Me, Eyeballing The Shitstorm That Is G*na Car*no

a haunting four part story

little nightmares 2 spoilers but i give you no context whatsoever

Daily reminder to go read Cucumber Quest

i dont want to unlock shit

you only unlock this emotion by being terminally online for the last seven years

When the last tree has fallen and the rivers are poison You cannot eat money

sometimes I forget Tumblr exists and that I have a space in this void for me to scream in. 

Anyway,

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909794/chapters/71047512#workskin

‘what he would’ve wanted,’ has been updated! That’s right, I asked myself, “what should I give out to the world today” and my answer was “pain”

“No one?” Master Skywalker’s fragile hope was shattered, and the shards were there in his voice.

Yes Mister Skywalker, not even your holy Jedi-ness is exempt from the angst I have for you. Now open wide-

i saw this and i had shivers so I liked it and then I saw it again and still had shivers so now it deserves a reblog this is golden

we survived because we were the “smartest” species you say, we survived because jellyfish don’t know how to construct a Fighter Jet. We survived because our environment is ours to manipulate with walls and floors and lightbulbs to capture the sun and tunnel into night.

we survived by being faster in our cars and stronger with our tools, and better than we were before. We survived with language to build on the past with and weapons to fight the future. We survived because of our hands and our heads and the fact we make the universe itself knowable.

But then again, a mother will gain the strength of ten men to lift a full car off her baby. A man will spend eight hours nursing a puppy back to health and that dog will follow his every step from the doorstop to the grave. A best friend will dropkick an alligator in the water for the sake of him.

And I’ll tell you, maybe it was all of it. And maybe it was because we loved each other better than we hated, we loved each other in the dark before the lightbulb and loved each other more in the wilds before our walls, and we loved each other so thoroughly we made pyramids and libraries and monuments, and wrote not for the sake of money and food and living, but for the sake of wrapping each others hearts in velvet soft to escape the sandpaper winds of this world.

And that too is survival. That too is a reason. Not for our brains or our hands or our grit, but for our willingness to wrap each others wounds in bandages and set the broken bones of grandparents and sit outside windows and sing lullabies and love songs and cry over butterflies and sunsets and care too deeply. Care too strongly. Care too much.

That too is survival.

This. Actually. No cap.

I used to had to deal with people who go ‘Oh and then they just leave me on seen wow’ and its even more frustrating when I did not mean to leave them on seen, I just had something to do and I was going to come back to you later. I had to apologise so many times for doing things in my own life and whoops I looked at your messages when I wasn’t ready to reply yet, please don't hate me I’ll do better.

No. Just, no. Stop. I don’t need to be anxious about this when I already have an unlimited amount of other things to be anxious about. I’m done.

Get rid of "Read" indicators on all messengers ever lol

battle scenes; swords

Clang. The Soldier drew the sword behind his head. Clash. The screams of battle faded into white noise. Slash. His opponent drops to his knees before him. Shaking hands drop an oranate sword, pressing against the bleeding open wound. With a dull thud, the unmoving corpse falls forward. Never to move, never to breathe, never to live again. The Soldier huffs a pant. The sounds come rushing back. Yells and grunts and battlecries - echoed by the clang of metal against metal against wood. The back of his wrist wipes his sweaty forehead. His armour is slicked with blood and dusted with dirt. Those same elements coated the blade of his sword. He hears more than sees his next opponent. He feels more than hears it coming towards him. A vibration on the ground, beneath his feet, shaking him. Drawing him to the present. He cussed himself, silently. Turned around and pointed his sword- A lithe shadow lands on him from the back of a speeding horse. Sends the both of them crashing to the ground. Panic seizes him. He struggles from underneath the assailant. He struggles to lift his sword. He grunts as he pushes himself free. Staggers to his feet and narrows his eyes. The lithe figure wears the garbs of an assassin. The glint of a hidden dagger confirms this. As do the stealthy way they move. The Soldier groans inwardly. Out of all people, assassins were the hardest to fight. Like grabbing carp with your bare hands. He lifts his sword up again. Angles the tip to point beneath The Assassin’s chin.  To the life-vein he can just barely see. The sounds disappear. Not fade into white-noise, though. It disappears. Everything disappears. Just him. The Assassin. His sword. Beneath the visor of his helmet, the Soldier grins. “Make your move.” The Assassin darts forward. For if a shadow is the absence of light, then how quickly would a shadow move? Very fast, The Soldier finds. He just barely manages to lift his sword up. Block the fatal blow. Force the shadow to retreat. The Assassin does, briefly. Unperturbed, they come back. Shoves a palm towards his chest - a move that The Soldier just barely escapes. The Soldier staggers back a few steps. Places a hand to where he was nearly stabbed. Stares at the pacing, agitated shadow. Still, beneath his visor, his grin grows larger. Finally, finally, he’s found his match. This time, The Soldier moves first.

I’ve rose from the dead just to tell you to read this webcomic

http://cucumber.gigidigi.com/ bunny people go on adventures and things aren’t as they seem

honestly if it was enough to inspire me to write a 136k word fic about the villain and basically started my whole writing shibang then you know it’s worth it

also the art is cute