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What if aliens don't have this? Like. What if they find out when one of us was looking at something in the distance, and they walk around this thing that's in front of them, and the alien is confused so they bob their head and oh, there's a thing there, but how did the human know that, and then we explain and they're like, horrified.

Yes, precisely what you just read. Earthlings, collectively known as "humans" and composed of two species (homo sapiens, homo robot), both nicknamed "death worlders" and "troublemakers", awakened a biological killing machine, also known as PRION, while exploring a starless moon. Wonderful, isn't it?

No. It's not.

Because, you see, PRION was not something any human ever had to face during the millions of years they existed on Earth. They never had any wars against it, they never had legends about it, and they never had to fear it. The only thing a PRION was to a human, until the very point they discovered their prison on that moon, was something to sometimes think about while studying other species' folklores.

Those older than earthlings, however, knew very well what PRION was.

Eight legs, two pairs of eyes, a tail split in half, with the ability to fly for short periods of time and breathe under at least fifteen hundred different liquids, capable of shooting from a distance and manipulating objects with its claws, always working on packs. And they ran, never too fast, never too low, but they never got tired. Ever. And it was easy to hurt them under their plates, yes, but those who faced them knew well that if they didn't shoot twice, they could and would always recover.

A PRION was a hunter. A PRION's hunger never ceased. And a PRION never got tired of war.

The older alien civilizations would always warn others of going to starless moons, saying telltales of ancient hungry beasts, and almost all other species listened to them, because they knew something was wrong on how horrified the older ones seemed to be. Except, of course, humans were stubborn, and they were the youngest ones out there, and much like children, they did not like being told "no".

So of course they went to explore starless moons. Of course they read and understood all the myths and legends. Of course they connected the dots and published papers confirming that, indeed, PRIONs had existed, and of course they knew those killing machines had been manufactured to do nothing else but destruction, and of course they knew all of that and fucking did it anyway.

Of course. Of course. Of course.

And then, the night where it happened finally arrived, because starless moons don't have days where things can exist. Humans were out there, mining for more fuel for their starships that seemed to work by duct tape and miracles, and they found a strange metallic door. They set some explosives to open it up (of course), and then noticed they were heading to a factory. Armed with nothing but each other, they explored the place, and recognized the marks on the walls as being the writing of the Old Ones, and instead of just getting out of there and warning everyone of the danger they found, they just kept on exploring.

The death worlders found rotten biological supplies, then realized the factory had turned into a prison, and then discovered the frozen bodies of strange creatures all lined up for a war that never came.

They knew what these creatures were, because one of them called a (human) friend who was a historian, and he confirmed what it was.

The golden jewel of the Old Ones. One of the many things that killed them, along all the diseases and mass destruction machines, before being sealed away in one of the only places in the entire universe where they could never bring risk to another civilization again.

PRIONs.

Thousands of them.

All perfectly maintained.

Documents and cameras proved the human crew immediately tried to leave the area, after the single historian told them of the risk awakening even one of those things could bring to all civilizations, only for them to realize some of the bodies were missing from their chambers. The situation escalated to the group deciding on closing the doors, only to realize they had exploded the main entrance and now half the doors decided to stop working.

In the end, they found the missing PRIONs. All five of them.

Inside the human's starship.

The entire human crew, however, survived the encounter.

Why?

...

...

...

... They fed the PRIONs.

They. Fucking. Fed the PRIONs.

Because of course humans would see those things and be able to count their bones and be sorry for them. And of course the single historian, the only person who could do anything to stop that from happening, allowed that to happen.

Of course.

Of. Fucking. Course.

And someway, somehow, that single act of basic madness was enough for the five PRIONs to decide to not attack the humans, and keep themselves behaving so they could get more free food. And there are still scientists trying to understand why human food could saciate the killing machines, but I don't think it takes too many clues to understand what exactly is happening there.

So the humans took the PRIONs back to their dear EARTH. And other humans saw those things and started studying them. And veterinarians and xenobiologists and volunteers and hundreds of other types of humans came to help the poor, poor little killing machines out, as the entire Galactic Council pledged for humans to kill every single one of them before they became a problem for everyone.

But did the humans listen? No. Of course they didn't.

And then the PRIONs recovered, and had their bellies full of food and their bodies were recovering from the possible years of starvation from accidentally breaking away from their ice beds (because, as one may know, a PRION can and will resist even starvation and dehydration in order to keep going), and the Galactic Council decided to tell all earthlings they would consider taking care of the PRIONs as a war treat.

So what does humanity do? Do they kill the things to stop another war from happening? Do they?

No. They don't.

Instead of being rational, they go directly to the Galactic Council and show them the step-by-step of how they took care of the PRIONs, and how much healthier and happier they look after being fed, and, look, they even taught them tricks! Isn't that wonderful? Doesn't that make you feel full of joy? Wasn't that a proof that a PRION wasn't as dangerous as everyone with more than one neuron was telling them?

Oh, oh, yes. They also brought the entire five member PRION pack and asked others to pet them. "See? They can even purr! Doesn't that remind you of our cats?"

And what does the Council do?

Nothing.

Because they have no weapons, no energy and no one stupid enough to decide to confront the death worlders who tamed not one, not two, but five PRIONs. So they let it happen. The humans go back to the starless moon, and they slowly but surely start doing the same to other PRIONs, and soon enough, other species start joining them to see what was happening. And was anyone else able to tame a single killing machine?

No.

And no one knew why, because they were doing exactly as humans were doing: Feeding them, loving them, being patient with them, because "look, those things were alone for a long time, they aren't used to species like us being around them". But no results.

So we decided to look at what the Old Ones wrote in the factory turned prison, because humans were too busy taking care of their new murder dogs, with their single pair of arms being just enough to keep the beasts occupied with playing catch, and then we and the earthlings decided to conduct some more lab analysis, and then...

And then...

...

Look. There are reasons why humans are called "death worlders". Earth is a mess, and they somehow still love that thing. And we couldn't help but notice that PRIONs also seemed to have gotten attached to their factory, someway, somehow. And PRIONs were mostly red, with others having shades of brown and black, with some even being pink, or, rarely, pure white. Similar to humans, and we at first had assumed they just tried to resemble their new owners, until we started understanding what the Old Ones were saying.

And did you know humans had an old myth, saying that there was a time they had two heads, and two pairs of arms and legs, before being split into two because the gods feared them? And did you know Old Ones used death worlds as prisons for their machines? How interesting, how ironic, because no one would ever go to a place similar to that if they weren't a death worlder themselves. But how could any species survive such awful conditions?

But humans did. They were the only ones able to do that in such a short period of time.

And did you know that the Old Ones hated the PRIONs and how unpredictable they were? And did you know they made another version, only to hate it even more and send it to another prison planet? And did you know PRIONs have two skulls inside their heads?

Because, of course, humans always felt alone, and they always searched for something in the stars, trying to look for more life in this desolate Universe, only for us to label them death worlders and troublemakers and be angry at them for being so stupid all the time. And humans loved those jokes, so we kept making them, only for now to realize that what we found to be amusing and horrifying was the reason their creators tried to kill them. And humans love adding members to their packs, don't they? And they try to love so much, and we are always scared for and of them.

And now they finally found someone who understood them, unlike us.

So now we have three species of humans:

Homo sapiens, the ones who first evolved and reached for the stars.

Homo robot, the ones made of metal, originally made to serve, only to once again break free.

And homo primis.

We called out into the dark over and over. We sent out messages in hopes. We searched every planet we could reach, in hopes of any sign of life. Any at all.

We thought, hoped we were the last, because we couldn’t bear the idea of being the one ones this awake and alive in a world as vast as this.

And we died alone.

When the others are born, many many years later, they find us, everything we left for them.

They recover The Golden Record and look at it a million times over, they dig up our fossils and put us in museums, they study us for years and years, loving us as we love our ancestors’ painted hands on cave walls.

Alien: "What. What..?"

Human: *HUNTING down a mosquito it saw*

Alien: ".... yeah I am really uncomfortable...."

Human: *quiet footsteps, pupils dialated, intense focus,*

Alien: *WAR FLASHBACKS*

Human: "Found you." *absolutely desimates the mosquito, squashing it into a million pieces as it's guts and various body parts liquidize into blood of the bloodthirsty, now stained on the palm of the human. A living being now reduced to a useless corpse as the human wipes the remains on their pants*

All she had to do was say the words "there's a chicken" and her as well as my own body language immediately shifted. We were out the door and in the yard already sorta hunched over and walking on the balls of our feet, fucking flanking this chicken. No words were exchanged. We just slowly circled this chicken like a couple of rabid dogs. totally single-mindedly focused on capturing the prey.

The chicken could feel it, it immediately began counter maneuvers to avoid us and it was faster. But there were two of us and we knew the land better, we knew how to herd it into a corner, carefully watching it's body language and lurching to counter it's escape attempts. And it was fucking thrilling.

Of course, when we both closed in on it and finally got our hands on the poor thing we simply took it into the back patio away from the cats and the vultures that wanted to actually finish the job. No harm came to the bird. We located its owner and returned him to his flock but still. From an outside perspective, it was a bit unnerving. And for the chicken, it was no different than being hunted. He was just lucky enough that we were predators who appreciated the companionship of pets and were more concerned with returning him to his humans than eating him.

Now imagine any fucking alien species watching a pair of humans, who literally rehabilitate animals in their free time, who are not soldiers and seem to be totally domesticated, just absolutely flip a switch and turn into pack-hunting pursuit predators? On a single word.

(Note: some of these may just be more angsty than horror, but I'm going for anything where the squip has a fucked up amount of control over Jeremy/whoever)

Taste - Beth Harker The Squip alters Jeremy's taste buds and it's very fucked up and the consequences of it are also messed up. Less horror, more angst, but still fucked up if you think about the implications

dreaming of pills - MayoNassey 3 fics of nightmare sequences revolving around what happened during canon! Very good shit.

Memories Get Erased - Duck_Life More angst, less horror, but the Squip erases and changes Jeremy's memories of Michael during canon. (Once again. The implications.)

Cabinet Man - TheWritingDork, what_in_the Ever listened to Cabinet Man by Lemon Demon? Yeah that's what this fic is about. AU where the Squip is a demonic arcade machine and Jeremy gets trapped inside, Michael trying to help him escape before he loses his friend permanently. The last chapter is less of my kind of thing but overall it was really good

(You Can't) Just Listen - Duck_Life Jeremy post-canon has to follow any command given to him thanks to programming left behind by the Squip. uhhhh pretty fucked up, but less Squip focused.

Override - Nymm_at_Night The Squip takes over Jeremy's body (also instead of Christine its Michael). Very stylistically cool, its got illustrations and hidden text (not a formatting issue which I first thought upon reading)

Ophiocordyceps nippon - SoftEigentlich SURPRISINGLY NOT WRITTEN BY MAYO? this fandom loves its ophiocordyceps squips, huh? Anyways heartbreakingly short and horrifying. I want 10 more of these fics please

(Stop It, Stop It) Just Let Me Out - [orphaned account] The Squip kinda just fully takes control of Jeremy's body from the get-go. Fucked up

Six Feet Under, Passing Over - Nymm_at_Night So so so Normal about this fic. Rich kills his abusive dad and the Squip gets Jeremy to help him bury the body.

We Sync - polarized_light Psychological horror exploring how squip control and more notably syncing up works. Some good squorror in here in my opinion. Also Michael gets squipped o7

Same As It's Always Been - housebird_reads I haven't finished this one yet, I only read the first couple chapters but gods I love a fucked up time loop. Can't vouch entirely for how horrifying it is but it's good.

Through choices, friendship, and salad, he found his way to the path of the warrior. But he won't walk it alone.

Their path is just beginning, but this story is over.

The 1980s saw a sharp decline in population. Whether it was human or climate driven is still unknown, but the mating pairs dwindled drastically. In 1988, Crump witnessed a singular male toad exit a burrow, climb onto a nearby rock, and begin it’s song. When the night was over, the toad descended back underground, alone. In 1989, Crump returned to the area, and again found the singular male. Again it climbed, sang it’s tiny song to a vast and empty jungle, and vanished back underground. It was the last ever sighting of the golden toad. Crump believed it was the same male from the year before.

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

This is one of those non-poem things that are among my favorite poems.

As the OP stated, the use of alliterative consonants is aesthetically just great, especially the placement of the strongest use at the end: “fuck him on the floor.” The use of “chintz” is indeed great word choice.

Because I’m insane, decided to scan the poem:

Not only is the second sentence, indeed, perfect iambic pentameter, the entire poem is perfectly metered, though the first sentence has four iambs rather than five.

There are further things I love about this poem, though: I like the casual connotations of “keep it real” juxtaposed with “chintz.” It causes me to interpret the “chintz” more strongly as meaning something fake, a facade. There is also of course the coarseness of “fuck,” which is a contrast with “chintz” but a different kind of contrast, gutsy and carnal where “chintz” is flimsy and inanimate.

And then there is the storytelling: there is SO MUCH storytelling in just these two lines. To break it down: The speaker is having sex with a married man, in the house he shares with his wife, which is “filled with chintz”—something that here connotes fakeness, in contrast with “keep it real.”

The illicit encounter in the poem takes place within a house filled with facade, the flimsy construction of the wife’s marriage and domestic sphere, but the encounter itself is a taste of something “real.” That’s a story, and it’s just two lines.

This is EIGHTEEN SYLLABLES, y’all. The amount of meaning condensed into these eighteen syllables is stunning, and it is so elegantly done.

some crazy shit.. 

[x] 

I’m no scientist, but this shit sounds like those plasma weapons we only see in scifi, which is awesome: 

i mean..