feral-goblin-24-7

[feral-goblin-24-7]

You ever disagree with a ship in a fandom but the fan art is fire? Like why the heck is my ship’s art shit? Damnit

[feral-goblin-24-7]

My OC’s (Pt.1)

Clone Trooper BJA-b1a5t, “Baja”.

Baja is a clone created at the end of the height of the clone wars. With the most combat experienced clones coming from the generation or two before, he saw plenty of combat himself was yearned to be in a battle of legend. After numerous cases of insubordination, he gets stationed to the desert side of a planet where the southern hemisphere is desert and the northern hemisphere is tropical islands. After going awol on three day leave where he was supposed to make regular check-ins, he comes back with bright green markings on his armor, the shoulder and upper arm plating gone which expose tribal tattoos of the world, and a pair of beskar knuckle studs implanted into his hands that he says he won in a “betting match” but won’t say what he was betting or what kind of game he was betting on. He also now regularly makes a weird juice that bubbles and claims tastes like “liquid electricity”, but he won’t share or give it a name other than “blast juice”. Despite his assurance that it’s not an explosive, nor extremely toxic, all his commanders are worried by this. The tattoos depict winding serpents, intricate designs, and bands of geometric shapes. After a local terrorist group attacks the base, Baja goes on what his commanders call a “rampage”. After an injured trooper lost their weapon, Baja pulled them off the field and gave him his blaster. He proceeded to go on the offensive with nothing but a knife and explosives.

[feral-goblin-24-7]

I have three tiny plastic babies on my dash, leftover from a prank I pulled during my junior year. There names are James, Juliet, and Charlotte. James and Juliet are twins. All three are identical, except for a few things. The twins don’t have their tag while Charlotte has hers, saying “return to X teacher” (there were +100 of these lil guys all with that tag), and James only has one arm. Also, James is stuffed into the head of a small rubber duck, which the top of was burned off with a lighter. Someone close to me gave it to me before going into a mental health facility. Those are my children and idk why I still have them

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Bro I have like 1/3 of a book written, and it’s not even in order. I started it for a college class, writing this idea out for a character. As the assignments went on, I fell in love with the characters. The problem is that because of the nature of the assignments, I have key chapters written, but not the in between stuff. And what I do have is mostly the beginning, some middle stuff, and a rough version of the last chapter.

[feral-goblin-24-7]

“That’s what I thought. At least I’m keeping up with the right form of English. It gets hard when someone cuts you off in traffic to keep yourself from biting your thumb at them. Blast, this Twitter shit looks pretty tubular dude”

“All those centuries, and you haven’t learned how to use a cell phone?” “I am 800 years old! Unless you know how to work a 15th century printing press, you can stop laughing and show me how to do the Twitter.”

[feral-goblin-24-7]

I fear the day I do this a dialogue no longer feels real. Like the people in my stories are crazy, cause then I’ll know that I have well and truly lost it

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Eyo mate, check dis one out: Roses are red, my blicks’ ivory white, cops finna catch me but I run all night. With this sacred treasure I summon: The Dom; drop gear and disappear

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Quotes from Old Man Dave (pt.2)

As fathers, after our kids are adults we can’t get caught up in still being the disciplinarians, we have to be the soft place to land for when they do fail, because we all fail. The world will beat them up enough so we can’t be stubborn and go on saying “I told you so, I told you so”, even if we did. And the next generation will become all the better for it.

A real man is someone who has become strong and powerful and threatening but has it under control. We have to be able to be threatening and powerful to hold the weight of the world and hold back the tide of pain while our children become strong enough to do it themselves. We have to have it under control so we don’t hurt the innocent and those we love. And we have to be strong or else our children will become strong too early and become hard as well. Strength isn’t hardness, and it isn’t anger. Strength is a gentle hug while at the same time using all the strength you have to keep them from being crushed.

As a father, the first 18 years before your kids move out of the house is 90% of the time you’ll get to spend with them over the rest of your life. The morning a functional family is not how well they stay together but how well they transition to being apart

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Quotes by Old Man Dave (pt.1)

“A successful marriage ends in death.” “Not everything is wine and roses.”

“the man might be the head of a body, but the wife’s the neck. Wherever she turns, he follows”

[feral-goblin-24-7]

being immortal

being immortal must suck. Like imagine having to hide the fact that the reason you look late teens-early twenties but have terrible back issues is like, you’re cells just refuse to stop multiplying properly and your spine is still minutely adjusting after falling 10 stories out of a building in New York a couple decades back and you still have normal healing time on that, it just does heal, eventually. Imagine have to see the faces of friends who died over a hundred years ago in your dreams as your ptsd flairs up again. Imagine getting drunk with a history major and admitting you’re an immortal to him, and as he humors you, you go on about the war. He thinks you’re full of it until he realizes when you said “the war” you didn’t mean the Cold War, or either of the world wars, but both of them. Your memories run together a bit, since they took place only one identity apart. In fact you made a “Tom Kelly Jr.”, specifically because the fields in Europe thirsted for more blood, making you question if all the blood you’ve spilt over there over the last few thousand years really meant anything. War in this day and age is easier to hide the fact that you’ve fought in battle before, because people don’t swing swords, axes and spears like they have for the last couple of millennia. Imagine having to go back and get a new degree in a language you already know because of linguistic drift. Imagine the standards for medicine are completely different than they were last time you practiced because of a fringe theory of a crazed person 400 years ago proved true. Imagine technology just baffling you at first but you still look really young so you force yourself to learn it to blend in because you’ve seen what happens when they catch immortals. You really know how Des destinées got its information. You know why the Catholic Church started burning people at the stake, because you can only die when you are completely reduced to ash. Anything less and your cells refuse to die, they just keep dividing, you just keep coming back. You can only see the same faces on strangers so many times, have the weight of so many years weigh on your mind so much, before you snap and loose all sanity. But here’s something humans don’t know. Eventually, the mind will heal. All wounds heal, mental and emotional as well. You can count seven times you’ve lost it all and been reduced to nothing before slowly clawing out of that pit after a century or so. After all, people still fear the wendigo. Sometimes you wake up and forget what era you’re in, sometimes you disassociate so hard you briefly flash back to a different identity, one you haven’t had since you “died” at the vents with the other soldiers in the gap, screams in Greek on the tip of your tongue. How god has an uncanny valley as well and you, a human that cannot die, and him, the being that made humans in his own image and the two differences were immortality and divine power, now watches you like you’re something to creepily close to him. But you remember your life as Icarus, and you do not fly to close to the sun anymore. Not because the heat of the sun melts the wax, but because no matter how strong you are you cannot flap wings long enough and hard enough to fly, and when you have wrought out every once of strength you have and you hit the ocean, still you don’t die. You sit on the bottom of the ocean drowning for years as your body works hard to heal the shattered bones under the pressure of the water. After you walk out of the sea massive changes to the physical characteristics of Poseidon happen and the myth starts to look like you. To many people get suspicious and you have to wander north to the tribes that you wonder if they are still there. You have a strong immune system because you’ve lived for so long, yet your digestive system weakens due to poisoning so many times over the years that you don’t know if you’ll heal up all the way and have to deal with the mild nausea for the rest of your innumerable days…

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Demigodhood

if I were a demigod, my parentage would be so confusing. Like I’d probably be the descendant of an Irish demigod, had Scottish fae and gods wanting me as a champion and using their blood in my veins as their claim, and the Norse gods wanting to kill me and induct me into Valhalla as quickly as possible before anyone else gets dibs because I also have their blood. Meanwhile the places I’ve lived in the United States have all had lots of Native American influence, of one tribe or another, and are all scratching their heads because I have a lot of qualities they value but I’m about as white as you can be while avoiding Britain Germany France and Spain. So the gods are all trying to give me abilities and stuff to get me to fight for them in the afterlife, like the Norse are just like “he’s been blessed to be really good in the water to he can survive on the ships easy” and the Irish gods and fae are like “no one is going to be as crazy and as mentally unstable yet mentally put together as him, that way he can drive other people mentally crazy by being in their presence. Just peer chaos”. And the Scott’s are like “we bless him with Dad Strength™️ x2, and the inability to put up with peoples crap” and the natives are like “oh we’re blessing him, um, idk, I guess he can just kinda vibe with the land ig yea I mean his bloods not from here but he just has a connection now. Yea we can do that.” And the consequences of all this is adhd and maybe being very mildly autistic (like a lot of the things people with autism struggle with I did to I just learned to cope quickly which is why I suspect I’m very low on the spectrum), I’m either saying wtf or the reason wtf is being said, have dad strength and bod at like 17 no matter how much I go to the gym and loose some weight (In a healthy way, dad bod remember I dance that line of husky and healthy), a great swimmer despite what my build says, highly resistant to both sides of extreme temperatures, and vibe with nature. And let’s not forget the urge to cause people bodily harm that I keep on a very tight leash like unless I tell you how much I want to hit someone you’d never know based on how I act.

anyways I hope I didn’t offend anyone with what I wrote

[feral-goblin-24-7]

my mother just straight up said the reason she birthed me and my brother was because she preferred not to carry heavy things. Then she continued her list by saying “the reason I had you was so I don’t have to carry water jugs, or dog food, or fill up my gas tank, and especially so I don’t have to work on my car”.

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Balled of the White Wolf

“You hunted me like an animal, yet are shocked when I bare my fangs? A cornered wild will kill a half-hearted hunter.” I said standing over the small quivering shadow…

I am the White Wolf. I am the Slayer of Shadows and The Hunter of the White Woods. I have stalked Temperate Timbers and prowled Dessert Ridges, yet Slick City Streets are my haunt. I have been given wisdom like Solomon and a prowess aliken to Odysseus, yet I seek peace like Ghandi.

When roused, my ferocity is like a wolf, making the 300 cower before me. I care not if I die, yet the wellness of those close to me deeply troubled me. Challenge is my comfort and strife my paradise. The path of most resistance points like a compass North towards my goals. Pain is my joy. It tells me when I need rest, where I am mentally weak, that I am killing off an old, weak me. But most importantly, pain tells me I’m not dead yet and that there is yet still more to do.

I am an elite strategist. I adapt my tactics to my enemies. Because I fight against the Blood-Bone Warrior and the Shadows and their Master of Darkness, I have waged a two-front war my entire life.

When the Blood-Bone Warrior came at my Lion-Cub heart, I became burned and disfigured. I seethed in the smolders, striking blind at all, hitting unsuspecting friend and missing suspecting foe as a black, red-eyed monster.

I felt the only way to douse the flames was to encase myself in stone. After battle after battle with the Blood-Bone Warrior and building and burying, I had constructed a hidden, secluded fortress with many walls and trenches around my stone cased heart.

Time passed, and the Blood-Bone Warrior seemed defeated. Alas, one gets lonely in a stone carapace that pushes all away. I let the outer walls come down and fill the trenches. It was with my realization of my seclusion that’s the Shadows dig their claws into me.

I battled the Shadow Demissio for two years before his brother Mors Voluntaria came to me when I was 9. After that moment, it took another three years for me to destroy the fortress that Demissio had turned into my prison. The passion of Libidine and her flames finally melted the cold stone. And I have battled her and the Blood-Bone Warrior ever since, with more wins than losses, thank Fortuna.

However, it is not of my own strength that I push this duo back, but that of The Sanctus. By pledging my vassal-ship to De La Lux, he orders my march forward. The Salvatorem will welcome me into his halls when it is my time to retire the sword and fade from this realm. Until then, I may be named heir but I am as worthy as the filthiest of peasants. I could sing of my own deeds, but they’d be as the dirty stockings of a young lad compared to his victories.

Even if I could conjure the audacity to sing my my own deeds, I would refuse because it would inhibit my ability to be His herald. And if others sang if my deeds, I would plead with them to stop, for stories grow bigger then the man, and I am simply that, a man.

I torture by the world and myself. I am torn between the service of Fortis Magnum and the seduction of Antithion and his Shadows.

Qui Me Totem does not help the servant who does not ask. He knows of our plights, but cannot help without breaking his own rules, which as Iustitia, he refuses to do.

The facade of Vit Varg of one who unceasingly studies after Sanctus if just that, a facade. And not one intentionally put up.

For every inch I’ve gained towards Him, I’ve scratched and clawed my way for, off the path of the Shadows. Yet all of this was down with a strength beyond my own.

Only rarely have I reaped the fruit if my labor on this plane. My path, the path I have taken and choose to take, is insane to some, but the benefits are reaped in the halls of De La Sanctus.

But for now, I scratch and claw my way towards His path while the world beats me down and the Shadows try to entangle me. The closer I claw towards The King, the more Antithion’s whispers fall on deaf ears.

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Think of the Children

so the entire time we played botw, we all killed monsters. Especially bokoblins. They’re pesky and annoying and for one reason or another, I’m sure all of us went on a murder spree of these little shits. But now with totk, we have boss bokoblins. The little shits got big. And it occurred to me while massacring a fort of them; normal bokoblins are children. Bokoblins are sentient, or at least semi-sentient creatures that can apparently grow. They make rudimentary structures at best and form little gangs around the the strongest ones. Well when one grows up, or becomes an adult, they become smarter, being able to organize bokoblins into ranks and being able to build an actual structure other than a tree house. And in totk, when link goes around killing forts, planning on using bokoblins horns to make better weapons, he’s just hunting down children for their scalps. Now whether the boss bokoblins take the roll of found parent, general, or slave driver is up for debate.

[feral-goblin-24-7]

So I’ve been thinking about a way to tie together elves and fae into the same universe, and my ADHD sprouted this idea into being. Fae, along with gnomes, giants, humans, and anipeople, and the five primary races at the beginning of the world. Fae and humans had offspring which gave way to Demi-fae. Demi-fae can either look mostly human or mostly fae, and having traits that lean either direction like how long they live and if they have the ability to shift. Fae shift into an animal form (they are born with the form and it’s a congenIal thing) but Dem-fae can only shift from a more human for to a fae form if they can shift at all. Demi-fae however are kind of outcast from both societies and breed among themselves, causing elves to come into existence. They’re an in between fae and Demi fae because of a higher level of fae blood yet not quite pure fae. They have magical prowess like fae do, but instead of it being over one thing really well, it can be channelled in multiple different ways it’s just more energy inefficient than fae. They’ve lost the ability to shift for the most part except for a few exceptions. Elves have lost the instinctua, almost animalisticness of fae, having something more similar to heightened human instincts. However because they were outcasts for generations, they’ve developed an extremely pretentious sociaty as a way of looking down spin others and take massive amounts of disrespect to the smallest mistakes

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Rowan all of HoF

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Science side of tumblr, level with me: could the human skeleton support a set of full-sized wings? Taking into account making some of the skeletal structure hollow-boned and keeping some bones the way they are to keep resistance to damage, as well as an increase in muscle density in the pectoral, back, and shoulder muscles, what other things would need to occur to make humans flying creatures