I want to read a story about a wizard whose only spell is “fix this”, but the specially-crafted magic takes their intent into account. "Fix this" can mean repairing the wheel on the adventurers’ cart or healing a broken arm or “fixing” a lock so that it’s in what the wizard considers the “correct” (unlocked) position. Imagine the other mages getting increasingly frustrated as the wizard stubbornly refuses to learn any other spells.
Wizard: *points at a canyon* Fix this
Other casters: That’s not really how spells –
Wizard: Oh look, one of our blankets is now a magic carpet. Guess we don’t need a bridge.
Casters: How –
Wizard: *points at logs that won’t catch fire* Fix this
Other casters: There’s been too much rain, it won’t –
Wizard: I fixed it so that it’s in the same state it was yesterday. Someone here knows how to start a fire, right?
Casters: What –
Wizard: *points at charging dragon*: Fix this
Other casters: THAT’S NOT HOW MAGIC WORKS YOU IDIOT WE’RE GOING TO DIE
Dragon: *coughs* Did you just… cure my intestinal problems? I’ve been trying to stop breathing fire for weeks, but it just kept spilling out, and every time I tried to ask for help, I burned everything down. I won’t forget this kindness.
I always thought it was funny that your player character in Pokemon is 10 years old. Like, yeah, they’re “anime ten” where they look at least 18 yadda yadda, but they’re still ten.
Imagine the people in the Pokemon League. These are fully grown adults, right? They’ve trained their entire lives to be the best trainers in their country. They’re the best of the best. And then a ten year old walks in. A high and mighty four foot tall ten year old with a big smile on their face walks in. They’ve never even seen a tity. They don’t know where babies come from. They’re ten.
How did this ten year old get in to your arena? Did they wander in here by mistake? They say they’re here to battle you. Aww, how cute. This kid wants to fight the big league trainers, so they snuck in to fight you. That’s cute and funny. You’ll tell the others about this next lunch break. You decide to humor the kid and accept their challenge. You toss out your level 50 Tyranitar. You and this Pokemon have spent decades together, you trained for ages to get it to Level 50. You’re the best trainer in the country.
The kid reaches on their belt and tosses a Master Ball. Wait, what? A Master Ball? How did that kid get a Master Ball? Out of the master ball pops…
God.
God popped out of the Master Ball.
The very same God Pokemon that controls the flow of space, that you go to church and pray to every Sunday.
This ten year old kid just pulled out a Master Ball and threw God at you. God is, in fact, Level 73.
God shoots Hyper Beam at your life-long partner Tyranitar, causing it to evaporate in to dust. He’s fainted in one hit. The kid yawns.
The kid wipes your entire party of Pokemon, the Pokemon you spent most of your adult life training and caring for. You are stunned. You ask the trainer how long they’ve been doing this. They say “I started a couple of days ago.”
Okay so like there are vampires but one of the side effects of becoming a vampire is that you can’t explicitly tell people you’re a vampire.
Like, if they already know you’re a vampire, that’s cool and you can talk about it with them whenever. And if they don’t know but are straight up like “hey are you a vampire?” you can be like “yes I am” and then you can talk to them about being a vampire because they already know now.
But the point is you can’t tell people.
So you’ve got this vampire who really wants to tell their friends and they’re dropping all these hints and being as obvious as they possibly can be but their friends just think they over-exaggerate everything.
“Hey, when did you learn to lock pick?” “Sometime around the middle ages, I think.” “Okay, fine, I won’t pry then.”
“Cool shirt! When did you get it?” “Oh, about fifty years ago or so.” “Dude you weren’t even alive. It’s a hand-me-down, then?”
“Hey check out this cool Renaissance painting.” *points to a person lying dramatically on the ground* “That’s me.” “Haha, that totally would be you. I’m the one getting his head chopped off.” “No, you don’t get it that’s actually me.” “God, I know. You’re so dramatic.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been to Europe?” “A couple centuries at least.”
“What’s this red drink in your fridge?” “Blood.” “Is it that new diet drink?” “No, it’s blood.” “No, seriously. I’m thinking about trying this diet. Does it work?” *sighs* “No.”
“How come you don’t have any mirrors in your house?” “I don’t have a reflection.” “Cool. It’s really admirable that you’re not letting society’s expectations dictate your life.”
“Hey, it’s really sunny out today. Wanna go for a walk?” “No. I will literally burn up and die.” “Fine, stay inside and watch Netflix. That’s cool too.”
“I heard these coffin beds are really supposed to help you sleep. I’ve never seen one this cool though. Where’d you get it?” “I was buried in it.” “Fine. Don’t tell me.”
“Dude, why are you always so cold?” “I’m dead.” “No, really. I think you might be anemic. Are you getting enough iron?”
You tell your wife how glad you are to be a human and not a robot. She looks at you confusingly says, “What are you talking about? We’re all robots. Humans have been dead for years.”
For what seems like an eternity, you stay there, unmoving, frozen to the world. Does she…. But then, you notice that tiny move from her upper lip.
“Ahahah, great joke there, honey…”
Your wife keeps a serious face for about five more seconds, the five longest seconds of your life. Then she cracks up and points at you.
“Oh my god, Dave! You should have seen your face!”, she’s laughing so hard that tears are starting to stream down her face, also snot. Whomever said people looks their best when laughing, have obviously never seen someone truly amused.
“You got so white I though you were going to fahahahahah, to FAINT!” You can hardly believe it, but yes, this is your wife, litteraly kneeling on the floor, laughing like this is the best joke anyone has ever made. And okay, maybe, maaaaaaybe it’s a little bit funny.
Maybe you’re also starting to crack up, because you love nothing more about this woman, than her ability to find the fun in every little thing. So maybe, just maybe you’ll be joining her in a second, right there on the floor, the both of you mocking you on how reading so much science-fiction has definitely affected your brain.
You end up having a fantastic afternoon, hurting from laughing so much, and then a delicious evening, cooking together and feeding each other bites of whatever you’re making, inbetween kisses.
Nonetheless, when you go shower right before bed, you make absolutely sure the door is locked.
You raise your left arm and wave your right thumb under it. A small trap opens. You take the wire coming from it and plug it to your phone.
On a private, dedicated forum, you explain what happened that day, and how you felt, your reactions. You upload the data of everything you experienced.
Within minutes, you get dozens of responses, from other androids, from all over the world. Most are thankful for the experience, happy that you were able to share. Happy to learn more and more about the human behaviour.
None of you know exactly when the last of the humans will die, but you will do everything within your power to save everything that was good about them. This part of them will never be forgotten.
This is uplifting in a way I can’t comprehend. Meet Dave the sequal.
Concept: financially struggling biology student discovers that the reason her monthly data bill is so high is because an ant colony in her basement has been stealing her wi-fi.
“I’m not angry,” she says from the top of the basement stairs. “Just disappointed.”
Below, a million hard exoskeletons glitter in the light streaming through the open door. The floor is completely covered in them, the hard-packed dirt rounded and molded into their home.
With a sigh, she starts down the stairs. “Don’t you swarm at me. I give you food, I give you shelter and this, this is the repayment I get! Where’s the Queen?”
There’s the sound of insects rushing past each other and a black mound begins to form. It grows higher and higher, moving slowly towards the bottom step, until it’s at her waist. Slowly, the top layer of workers peels back to reveal the Queen in all her glory.
The Queen is easily the length of her hand, glittering and gorgeous in the faint light. She had been the one to make the Queen last semester as part of her final project. Her professor had given her an A on the condition that she destroy the Queen and her genetically enhanced children, but, instead, she’d taken them home.
“Look at this,” she says, thrusting her bill in front of the Queen’s tiny head. “I can’t afford this! I don’t–where did you all even get computers?”
The ants surge guiltily, producing a mac that looks very, very familiar.
“You stole my ex’s laptop.” It’s not a question. “That’s–alright, that’s pretty funny. I’m not going to take it away, relax, but you all need to figure out how to pay for this, okay? I can’t feed you and entertain you on my stipend, okay?”
The Queen regally nods. There’s a shift in the air as she communicates with the others and another mound of ants forms and pushes forward. This one opens to reveal a plastic bag filled with dirt-covered jewelry and a handful of…ancient coins?
She takes the bag, staring blankly at it. “Okay…I’m not going to ask. I don’t want to know. I’ll invest in better internet and pretend that you guys aren’t about two seconds from opening a chop shop or crime ring or whatever in my basement.”
The ants wave agreeably.
She turns to go and pauses halfway up. “I have to ask. What do you guys even need internet for?”
The mac flickers on to show Jessica Jones paused halfway through episode six.
“Fair enough,” she says and goes to google local pawn shops that don’t ask too many questions
Suppose there was a species that was very peaceful, very good at diplomacy and just generally very nice— but they also happened to look really terrifying to humans. Sort of an opposite to that ‘humans are cute space orcs’ thing— species X is perfectly friendly, but just happens to look like they walked out of a human horror movie.
We don’t blame them for it, it’s not their fault (and we’re slightly too afraid to talk to them about it anyway) we just quietly avoid ships where they are stationed and stay away from areas where they live and, over time, it just becomes accepted that, for whatever reason, you don’t put humans and species X together. Captains turn down human applicants if they’ve got a member of species X on their crew and visa versa. They barely notice that they’re doing it, it’s just how things are done.
Then one day a human crewed ship breaks down in species X space so that one of their ships picks up the distress signal. Being such lovely people, they offer to help and the humans can’t think of a good enough excuse to refuse.
The repairs take about a week and, the whole time, the species X crew members are loving the human ship. It’s so spacious, you barely even see other crew members! (They don’t realise that all the humans are constantly ducking out the way whenever they see them coming.)
The humans, meanwhile, just spend the entire week in Hell. The species X crew members like to take shortcuts through the ventilation shafts, so you can constantly hear them skittering around above your head; the ship is full of this low key but very distinctive smell— rotting meat, the smell of death (apparently they give it off when they’re happy); half the crew have goosebumps, despite the temperature controls working perfectly.
The ones working in the engine room directly alongside the species X crew have it hardest though, they can’t run away— and it’s very hard to relax and do your job when, suddenly, you hear this noise above your head and a hairless, milk white creature with no eyes and a huge mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and long gangling limbs with fingers and toes that look human but like they’ve been stretched, leaps silently with catlike grace from the rafters, lands right next to you, flicks out a forked tongue, holds out a long taloned hand and asks “can I borrow your spanner?”
i dont think goosebumps books ever came into print i think they just mystically appeared in public school libraries one day already in mediocre condition
this sounds like a plot for a goosebumps book about goosebumps books
You know, in a horror movie, everyone always responds with a flight response when they see the monster. But that’s not the only thing that happens when people get scared. I want to see someone choose the fight response. I want to see a character turn around to see the killer right there, scream in terror, and start punching them in the face repeatedly.
draw women in post-apocalyptic world settings with armpit hair, leg hair, bushy brows and pubic hair ya cowards,, draw brown women/women with dark thick hair with arm hair and happy trails and sideburns and mustaches i’m sick of seeing silky smooth soapy clean make up wearing post apocalyptic dolled up women next to stinky sweaty crusty men with dirty nails and sweaty clothes and sweaty greasy hair and 3m long ugly beards
or, if you must depict women maintaining that shit, at least be interesting about it. I can actually buy someone shaving/putting on makeup if that’s their way of coping, something they do to tether themselves to the past or an ellusive feeling of normalcy. So show me the EFFORT put in, yeah? Show that woman risking a zombie horde because she spotted a fucking tube of scarlet lipstick and christ she hasn’t seen that color in five years but it’s what she wore on her first date with her now-dead husband. Show me the girl who is quietly starting to fucking lose it but covers it up with fanatical commitment to her appearance because if she gets these eyebrows right, maybe no one will notice how she stares at things that aren’t there.
I find it completely plausible that some women would go to incredible lengths to maintaining their appearance, because they’ve been socialized all their lives to caring about it, because it’s a part of their identity. So show me how that part gets negotiated with once the world has gone to hell.
Catch me in your local bunker doing a smoky eye with the ashes of my former life.
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