Shu-shu

before the day ends i really want to post this, want you to...

hilarious-war — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 18:10:20 -0400

before the day ends i really want to post this, want you to know about this, me, you, us, our feelings and what we have been through and all that stuff, i know i’ve never been the best at making letters or expressing emotions and i always end up babbling about nonsense…but the thing is that i wanted you to know how much good you have made to me, even if its just one person its always worth it and i really want to make it up to you, since you know me so prefectly, you always know what to say and how and when. and im here like a clueless son of a bitch that cant even put in words what i want to say… maybe i should go with “thanks you” but it just doesnt make it, like its so simple and i would throw a fucking party with huge balloons and write it with fireworks even the NASA would just go “houston we have a party here” but i dont have the money for it. or maybe i could go with “i love you” but it also doesnt make justice to all i feel, like those feelings when you just WANT to explode cause you cant contain it and you DONT want to contain it, you just want everyone to know how you feel, but it will end up being really awkward and embarrassing myself once again… so maybe i should go with a stupid “im sorry” cause thats all i can mutter while i writte this down…

obligatory update art.

hilarious-war — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 14:51:38 -0400

obligatory update art.

dashing-motherfucker-dave: You can’t keep me like this forever...

hilarious-war — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 02:04:03 -0400

dashing-motherfucker-dave:

You can’t keep me like this forever hunters…you should have killed me when you had the chance.

oh my god yES

Run Part One

hilarious-war — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 02:01:15 -0400

kazethecursedone:

Your name is…

Damn.

You can’t quite remember. It’s right on the tip of your tongue but just out of reach. You spend a while staring into the distance trying to recall it.

Something mistakes your lack of motion for you being dead and runs across your foot. You skewer it with your ninja like speed then raise it up to get a good look at it.

The rat’s legs twitch spasmodically from the end of your sword as it bleeds out all over your blade.

Read More

oH MY FUCKING GOD THANKS YOU

FOR LULU your the BIRTHDAY GIRL it is YOU.

hilarious-war — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 01:48:07 -0400

FOR LULU

your the BIRTHDAY GIRL

it is YOU.

TG: fuck yea dinning room im starving, we can settle this with...

hilarious-war — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 14:39:31 -0400

TG: fuck yea dinning room im starving, we can settle this with some champagne and maybe some tango?

TT: It will be a pleasure.

TG: its a date ;)

well looks like this is a thing.

maybe after this?

terezidactyl: With permission from ever-lovely tumblr user...

hilarious-war — Sun, 16 Jun 2013 20:30:46 -0400

terezidactyl:

With permission from ever-lovely tumblr user my-friend-the-frog, my friend Tyler and I did the voice acting thing with her comic!

Please go and look at her blog, her art is fantastic!

Go and visit Tyler, too! He is a marvelous voice actor!

comic: http://my-friend-the-frog.tumblr.com/post/45855059911

Jake: http://tylersthings.tumblr.com/

I voiced baby John and Jane! c:

skaldjsakdKLJSAKLD AWWWWWWWWWW THANKS YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOD YOUR VOICES ARE SO CUTE!

Walk Part Four-End

kazethecursedone — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 16:18:46 -0400

Your name is Dirk Strider and you don’t remember falling asleep but now you’re awake your body has the dull aching pain of sleeping wrong running through it.

Still wrapped tightly around Lil Cal your arms have started to go numb.

It must be morning, somewhere outside you can hear a bird singing.

You want to go back to sleep. It didn’t hurt then. In fact you didn’t dream at all.

No matter how hard you try you can’t go back to sleep. The bird is keeping you up with its cheerful chirping song, welcoming in the sunrise as if nothing had happened.

Flying feathery asshole.

Jane will be back soon, and Roxy. They wouldn’t stay away long now the Tide has dispersed. Soon they’ll be back and opening that door to make sure you’re both o.k.

You are about as far from o.k. as you can get. Jake is dead and you’re having a mental breakdown.

You don’t want to get up. Instead you just hug your puppet and curl up in your sleeping bag.

The bird keeps singing and your heart can’t get any lower. You’ve run out of tears to cry for Jake, for you, for everything the world will never let you have.

You are alone. So very, very, alone.

__________________________________________________________________________

You don’t realize you’d been falling asleep until you’re woken up but this time the bird has stopped singing.

Then the sound comes again, a quiet tapping noise, and you stand up. Your sleeping bag falls onto the floor.

“Oh good you are awake. There’s a bit of mess in here. I will require another shirt and possibly a bath.”

You can’t move. Your entire body has just frozen. Again Jake politely taps on the door.

“Dirk?”

“Yes, I’m awake.” You manage to say. Your lips feel completely numb and forcing the words out is difficult.

“Dirk…I’m not hungry anymore.” He says softly and you finally force yourself to turn and look at him.

Blood has dribbled from his mouth and his eyes but it is a dry crust. His glazed over eyes look tired and you can tell it hard for him to stand but triumphantly with bloody teeth he is smiling. Covered in blood and vomit and other less pleasant substances but still…

Jake English is smiling.

The next few moments are a blur you can barely remember, you feel so incredibly high it is as if your head might float off like a balloon. Robotically you get Jake some more clothes, some baby wipes to get the blood off, his toothbrush, soap, water…

He doesn’t once ask for food and you don’t go outside to find any.

His eyes will never be fixed, the disease has left that permanent scar on him but aside from the color his eyes are fine…or as good as they usually are, Jake jokes as he puts on his glasses.

Jake wasn’t kidding when he said there was mess in there; the marks of his agony over the past few days are clear from the smears of red along the walls and tables and his cracked and bleeding nails. There are even bite marks on his arm from where he has tried to gnaw at it and it looks like everything he’s eaten in the past few days is now a puddle on the floor.

You don’t bother to even think about this miracle in case it disappears. Jake’s been through hell, no not hell [i]Purgatory[/i] and now he is better.

You’re not surprised to find he doesn’t remember much about the period when he was ‘sick’ besides the hunger and the pain but from what he can tell you it really is over. In the end, the screaming bloody end, the disease had burnt itself out.

_________________________________________________________________________

Jake English has, against all odds and common sense, survived. The disease is gone and all that’s left behind are oozing scars, a white film on his eyes and a rasp to his voice.

Going into the storeroom, now nearly empty with the girls gone, you find the metal arm you had been working on in what was left of your spare time. It’s covered in dust now but you give in a good wipe down with your sleeve before carrying into the main room.

You can feel your heart beating in your throat as he steps out.

He’s weak, stumbling but he can walk under his own power and gives you a look that says he’s not going to take too kindly to you trying to help him up. His stomach rumbles and he looks down.

Subconsciously your grip tightens on the metal limb.

“That instant ramen would be nice about now.” He says with a weak smile and you can’t help yourself.

You leap across the room with such ninja speed Jake’s only just noticing you’ve moved when you’ve got your hands around his shoulders and your mouth against his mouth.

His lips taste like toothpaste and your mouth probably still tastes morning breath but god you’ve missed kissing him so much.

To English’s credit he’s only startled for a second before he’s wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you closer.

Your shoulders are trembling again.You’ve had no idea how much you needed this, to hold someone again.You’re about to start bawling like a baby but Jake is carefully stroking your hair and making wordless soothing noises in your ear and you can believe that everything’s going to be alright.

The door beeps and you know someone’s coming in but you’re not going to let go of Jake. Not yet.

“…O.k. I really did not need to see that.” Someone says behind you and you flip them the bird with the robot arm you’re still holding before you realize you have no idea who it is.

The euphoric bubble of good feelings you’ve been living in for the past few hours pops and your usual self comes back with a rush. You have business to attend to.

You put on your mask of a joking smile.

“Hey Jane-?”

There are four people standing in the doorway. Neither of them are Jane or Roxy. In fact you’ve never seen them before in your life.

“We were asked to come and help you out by a girl of that name. She helpfully provided the door code.”The blonde girl gives you a small knowing smile and offers a hand. “Of course once we saw your signal we knew this must be the place. Rose Lalonde.”

“Yeah, well a horde of the walking dead [i]does[/i] tends to draw a bit of attention.” You say bluntly as you ignore the gesture. It isn’t proof the girls are safe.

“It was more of the giant katana marks in the door spelling out ‘Bro’.” The dark haired boy says, looking a little embarrassed at his outburst. “I’m John Egbert.”

“Jake English.” Jake introduces himself with a theatrical bow and you roll your eyes beneath your shades. “And this sour-puss here is Dirk Strider.”

“Strider?” The third member of the party, a dark haired girl says in surprise, turning towards the last guy who is totally giving you the once over behind his shades.

Of course you’re doing the same thing.

“Dave Strider.” He says finally. “I’m here looking for my brother.”

Your name is Dirk Strider and this is all too much for you.

((Interested in a sequel y/n?))

Kitty Caught A Vantas: A Demonstuck Fic

hilarious-war — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 15:43:52 -0400

thestoryofameliapond:

Summary: On a hunt with John Karkat comes across a demoness that acts more like a feral cat… one that seems to know and like him already. Based on the goddamn awesome demonstuck AU by my-friend-the-frog!

Characters: Karkat Vantas, Nepeta Leijon.

Warnings: Blood. Nothing really intense in this one. Rusty writing from not doing it in a while, be warned.

—

She’s knocked you flat on your back and climbed onto your chest before you even had a chance to yell for your colleague, clawed hand giving one powerful swipe to knock your sickle clean out of your hand. You wonder if one hard swipe could break your neck. Judging by the clatter indicating the weapon’s hit the far wall, probably.

Read More

aw yiss trolls demonstuck!

Walk Part Three

kazethecursedone — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 15:39:38 -0400

Your name is Dirk Strider and you can’t protect everyone.

It’s your nightmare, the thing that wakes you up in a cold sweat every time you hear something shuffle past your building.

Deep down you know you’re not good enough.

You weren’t trying to be a leader but when things started to happen you just took charge. Get your four friends to a safe place until this crisis was over, check.

But the crisis isn’t over. It’s not going to be over until everyone is dead.

Including Jake.

Including you.

There are no heroes. You think it every day that no matter how the others look up to you, no matter how many fights you manage to pull them through you aren’t a hero. Hell you’re not even old enough to drive.

Another day another few corpses dragged in and sectioned up for Jake. You met Caliborn today and he made some very crude suggestions about what you were doing with a tied-up Jake complete with pelvic thrusts.

You punched one of his teeth out. It wasn’t like you. You should always act cool, in control of the situation.

But you’re not cool, not this time. You’re [i]angry[/i]; at yourself, at Jake, at this whole messed up situation. Sometimes all that aggression needs somewhere to go and the only reason you don’t slit that skull-masked asshole open with your sword is that he leaves bodies for you to give to Jake.

It isn’t until things start heating up again that you realize exactly how quiet things have been. You’ve been too busy worrying about getting the bodies back safely to really notice the patterns in those you’re killing, that the numbers wandering the streets have been waning.

You only have a few hours advance warning that the Tide is coming in, courtesy of the trolls who are considerably less callous than Caliborn.

_______________________________________________________________________

Your name is Dirk Strider and you’re just carrying in the evening meal when the first scouts start to appear.

At first you just think they’re stragglers, lone wanderers separated from any larger mob but no soon has Roxy shot one down when more start appearing.

After what happened with Jake you had spent a while wondering if there wasn’t some way to stop the mobs, feed them something to stop their rampaging, turn them back human again.

It was a stupid hope. They’ll only resort to non-living meat when they have to and even then it’s only [i]human[/i] that stops their hunger. There’s nothing left of them to recover, much to Roxy and Jane’s disappointment.

A few rapid shots from the direction of the barricade are all the warning you need. Aradia was on sentry duty today and that girl didn’t mess around shooting anything that wasn’t serious. You drag the body inside and get Roxy and Jane up from the fire they’ve started to build.

Without bothering to unpin it you tear the map from the wall.

It’s a bold enough statement.

“Pack supplies, anything you can stand to leave behind.” You say swiftly.

You had an hour at the most before the mother of all mobs got here. That was the problem with the virus, it took away enough of people that they couldn’t control themselves but left enough behind that they were so dangerously smart at times.

Some days the isolated groups, ready to roll over any lone survivor, met up to hammer a single target. You called it the Tide because stopping it was like trying to stop the ocean coming in. This wouldn’t be the first time you’d pack up the irreplaceable thing in your life and move to a safer place for a while. They’d batter any place you’d stayed for a while then disperse and you could pick up what supplies they’d left you.

Yes, it was common, absolutely perfectly normal but you can feel your heart beating in your throat. You had to leave [i]now.[/i]

“Is it moving day?” Jake asks from behind the glass and your heart sinks into your stomach.

Jake, Jake, Jake…

You can’t take him outside or he’ll be shot. He can’t run as fast as you can and if anyone else alive saw him behind you-

No, no, no, no! That’s not happening to him. You will protect him, you will always protect him.

Roxy has already finished stuffing the map into the faded purple backpack she’s managed to scrounge. With a box of cake mix half in her hands Jane looks up at you.

“Go through the Wild-life Park. The door codes 3247900-Got that?”

“324…79…00.” Jane slowly repeats back and you smile a fraction. “But aren’t you coming with us?”

“Bypass the barricade to the other side of town and find somewhere defensible for two days maybe three max. We’ll be fine here won’t we Jake?”

“Just tickeyboo.” Jake says from the other side of the glass and makes you all smile.

“We’ve got supplies and these attacks never go on for more than a few days. This place is a rock; we’ll be fine for that long.”

Roxy is at the door already, throwing a look over her shoulder at you standing in front of the firing range window and Jake looking through the glass behind you.

More staggering bodies are already lurching out across the street.

“Come on Dirk.” Jane says giving you a look you can’t quite identify.

Already you’re worrying about them but you can’t go. That would leave Jake all alone and after he first opened up to you and hold about what happened to him you swore to yourself that you would never do that to him.

“It’s o.k. I can stay here by myself.” Jake adds. His voice is faintly muffled by the bulletproof glass.

Feelings rise up inside you like bad seafood. Words strain to break free from your mouth. You want to tell them everything; about how scared you really.

It’s been eleven years, 6 months, 17 days, 5 hours, 23 minutes and 48 seconds since child services took you away from your brother. Jane always had her father right up until this epidemic struck; she doesn’t know what it feels like to have that happen to you at such a young age. To be passed from home to home like it was some fucking party game until you stopped believing that anyone would ever really want you again.

Even Roxy who had never really known her mother had the people of her neighbourhood to care about her. Oh, she had acted like such a bad girl too until she saw you and realized that compared to you she was just playing. She’d never had anything on you.

They don’t know what it feels like to be alone, to be so utterly alone that you’ve given up hoping that one day your brother might come back and you’ll be a family again.

When Jake’s grandmother had died he’d been alone as you were but together you were lonely together. In those first few months he had everything you’d never had when your bro had left; he had the three best friends in the world there for him.

You’d never had anything but your brother, Jake and lil Cal.

Now all you had was Jake and that fucking lifeless puppet that reminded you of your brother.

You couldn’t lose Jake. You couldn’t be alone again.

Those are the words you long to scream, to get out your stressed feelings out in the open but instead you keep them trapped and festering inside you and faking a smile like a cool kid.

“Come on, can’t a dude get some alone time with his boyfriend. It’ll be fine. Three days remember?”

“Yeah…We’ll see you in three days.”

They smile and close the door behind them. You can hear their footsteps receding into the distance.

You lock the door behind you and go and sit with Jake.

__________________________________________________________________________

The Tide hits your doors with an unholy sound. The many fists battering at the doors and walls and even the roof sounds almost like rain except rain isn’t accompanied by moaning and screaming and this is.

You have nightmares like this where you are trapped alone with the mob outside trying to find their way in…And if they do find a single crack in your defences they will eat you alive…

You can’t sleep like this, alone in the big empty space where once there had been four so you drag your sleeping back out to the door or the firing range. Jake watches you but he doesn’t say a thing. Instead he just settles down in his own sleeping bag.

It really shouldn’t but the sound of his breathing helps you get to sleep.

__________________________________________________________________________

For the first day under siege you talk with Jake. You’ve got no duties to perform other than keeping him fed and with no girls around you can do all the stuff you never get to do with him…except for touching.

It’s almost fun, like a sleepover and you could almost believe you were back in some normal time if it wasn’t for the sounds of continued assault on the building.

Only a day ago you were confident this place was sealed up tighter than Jane’s dad’s wallet but now…now you just try to stop yourself from thinking about it.Worrying won’t do anything and you can’t repair any damage the attacks might be doing to the walls. All you can do is wait until it is over.

As you go to sleep you’re glad Jake is here. You could never survive this alone.

_______________________________________________________________________

By the time the second day starts you’ve almost gotten used to the sounds of the attack. Once they realize they can’t get through the concrete walls the mob will disperse and Jane and Roxy will come back.

Until then you take the opportunity to be as soppy as possible with Jake. He laughs and teases you about it in the adorkable way he has and you laugh together to drown out the fear.

The attack isn’t stopping…

They’re not slowing down.

Jane and Roxy took the bulk of the supplies with them but you manage to get a fire started and make yourself some noodles.

The meat is running out and while the reduction in the smell is welcome there’s no way you can get any more.

Jake notices you’re worrying when you bring him his dinner and suggests you play a game. You play charades for the rest of the evening through the glass. It’s nice.

_________________________________________________________________________

It is the third day and finally the furious pounding on the walls and door is dying down. The Tide is dispersing.

Falling asleep curled up in your sleeping bag with only the door between you and Jake you feel better than you have in weeks.

You survived.

Both of you survived and nothing bad happened.

“HEY STRIDER.” The shout is barely audible over the noises outside but you recognize that voice.

Caliborn.

A few seconds later something crashes into your door and for one crazy moment you’re sure that somehow that masked psychopath has gotten his hands on an RPG.

Then you smell steak and gunpowder and you realize it is worse.

With the trademarked shrieking sound of a skyrocket the Meatbomb detonates.

As the rocket hits your door and explodes in a shower of blue stars the light and sound instantly draws attention to it for blocks. The chunk of bleeding meat tied to it explodes with the rocket and showers the mob with blood.

A highly effective distraction you’ve used more than once to keep a mob away from you Caliborn is using it to get his revenge.

Certain that a meal lies just beyond the door the ebbing Tide swells again, fists beating at the door with renewed fury. Those that had started to wander away return swiftly so as to not miss out on the feed.

You slam your fist into the wall and begin to cry.

You only have enough meat to feed Jake for one more day.

The sobs start off small, hot tears trickling from underneath your shades as you silently gasp for air. Whatever inner strength has been keeping you up fades and you slump backwards against the glass.

This is your nightmare.

__________________________________________________________________________

Today you tell Jake that it might be a while before you see him again and it breaks what little of your heart you have left to break.

He smiles up at you like he understands but you can already see that the short time without food is hurting him.

It hurts you too to know that there is absolutely nothing you can do to help him. There is no more meat and nothing else will stop the hunger.

You cry curled up against the door and Jake puts his hand on the glass.

He wants to hold you and tell you everything is going to be alright.

But it’s not going to be alright. Ever.

You are Dirk Strider and today is the day you couldn’t help everyone.

That night you take Lil Cal into bed with you. You’ve had that puppet since forever. Your brother made it for you and it’s the only thing of his you’ve been allowed to keep.

Normally holding him soothes the nightmares, takes you back to a time when you felt safe and protected but now…it’s just cold dead cloth.

__________________________________________________________________________

“Dirk…”

You haven’t been able to sleep at all.

“Dirk I’m hungry.”

Jake’s voice sounds rough, as if he has been gargling gravel. Each breath wheezes in and out with more effort each time.

You can’t bear to turn around and see him pressed up against the glass, glazed over eyes staring at you and demanding a meal.

“Dirk I’m hungry.”

You try to pretend you’re asleep, that the only reason you haven’t fed him yet is that you haven’t woken up yet.

“Dirk…”

His voice is monotonous, robotic in tone as he forgets even the words of his plea.

Through the night Jake repeats your name over and over…

You almost manage to fall asleep when even that noise stops.

Fists beat at the doors of the firing range and the doors to the outside almost in unison as Jake’s mouth opens unnaturally wide and a rasping inhuman moan leaves it.

And you thought you had run out of tears.

_________________________________________________________________________

You’re no longer keeping track of the time. Instead you huddle up in your sleeping back, drawing it over your head to try and protect you from the awful sounds.

The hammering outside seems faint compared to the hammering inside as Jake tries to beat down the door that separates you.

You can hear his fingernails scrabbling across the glass, each wheezing breath from his hungry open mouth.

Their sounds you’ve heart every day since this started, sounds that meant fear and danger and there’s nowhere to escape from them, even inside.

You are scared. You are very, very scared and like a baby you pull the blankets over your head and hug your doll close and hope that the scary monsters will go away.

But the noises don’t stop.

More than once you fall asleep and in your nightmares the door breaks and Jake is hauling you out of your sleeping bag.

You jolt awake to find the door is still solid and Jake is still determinedly clawing away at it with a snarl frozen on his face.

__________________________________________________________________________

You haven’t gotten up in what feels like days and haven’t slept in what feels like just as long.

Even though you haven’t turned around you know there’s now blood smeared over that glass.

The pounding is getting worse and more desperate as your best friend, no, the [i]fucking love of your life[/i] is starving to death.

You are so tired, so tired of this.

Your mind is suffocating on sorrow and sleep deprivation and through the blur of your tears you are tired of it all.

The noise, that pounding noise, it never stops. They are calling for you, calling out for your blood in a wordless scream that permeates every inch of the building.

Jake has stopped pounding at the glass, without food he doesn’t have the energy any more. Now he lies on the floor and screams with pure raw hunger as his body goes into spasms.

It’s a horrifying noise that drills straight into your head.

You hate yourself for this and want to die. You want to grab your sword and end this the honourable way but you don’t know where the blade is anymore.

You want to die and end it.

You even want Jake to hurry up and die so you don’t have to listen anymore and that thought only makes you feel more ashamed of yourself.

__________________________________________________________________________

It is past midnight on the seventh day when the Tide finally disperses and the noise finally stops.

The sudden silence, broken only by the shuffling of feet, falls like a guillotine and suddenly you can’t breathe as if the quiet is literally suffocating you.

There is no noise from the firing range and nothing but a bloodied hand print smeared across the glass…

You didn’t save him. You didn’t protect everyone.

You start to cry again and press your face into the fabric of Lil Cal’s shirt just like you always did when you were little to hide your tears from your foster parents.

The cloth smells so familiar but rather than calming you it makes you feel even worse.

In your sleeping bag your shoulders shake as you cry for Jake the same way you always cried for your brother; alone where no-one could see your tears.

You cry until your tears soak through into the puppet’s stuffing and your mind is so anesthetized by sadness you can’t even remember exactly why you’re crying anymore and though your body shudders with wracking sobs not a sound leaves your mouth.

Your name is Dirk Strider and you can’t even cry openly for him.