I love Bear Nuts. Seriously, I feel like there’s a bear anyone can relate to in this comic.
Peacocks and peahens sound a lot like a woman having sex with a goose and it’s seriously distracting.
I come back to find I have like five new followers and I’m like whaaaat? I don’t use this blog for things! Then I realized Lord Hater sent you.
can I just say how in character it is for Awesome to reblog pictures of his own butt all day
((Well it’s pretty easy when all the art of Awesome seems to focus on his rear-end, but thank you very much! I’m oh so proud. Here, have an autographed photo of E.A.))
The first thing he’d noted when he’d been awoken, was the absence of the warm red ambiance of his alarm clock that usually cast a dull, yet oddly comforting glow on his nightstand by his bed. Without it, the transition between dreams and reality had been blurred, being pushed from slumber into uncertain blackness. Lord Hater stared up at the black abyss that was his ceiling, wondering what had awoke him so abruptly… and what had apparently taken out his alarm clock.
He strained to listen for what had stirred him, for any sound at all. It was the absence of sound that had him worried; he did not even hear Captain Tim snoring peacefully in his little bed next to his own.
That’s when he heard it; an unfamiliar sound, its exact location untraceable in the darkness. Shhht-thud. Shhht-thud. Shhht-thud.
"Captain Tim?" Hater whispered, his frightened voice surprising him. The sound stopped, as if whatever it was had paused to listen to him.
"C’mere, boy, you can sleep with me tonight, I’ll allow it…" Any form of comfort was welcomed at this point.
Silence filled the room again, heavy and unsettling. He felt as if the darkness was closing in, suffocating him, hiding some unseen creature that watched him, knew him, would devour him. Hater pulled the covers up to his chin like a frightened child.
He never would have admitted to the scream that tore its way out of his throat when the sky outside let loose with a terrible boom that shook the entire ship. Seconds later, his room was illuminated for a split second, as what could have passed as lightning flashed across the cosmos.
Hater sighed, and settled back into his bed. It was nothing more than a space storm. Except that scurrying sound was not the storm raging outside. And neither was the thud. Shhht-thud. Shhht-thud. As if someone was dragging a bag of something wet across his floor.
Hater began to shiver as he felt something begin to pull on his blanket from the bottom of his bed. His fists tightened, securing the blanket to his face. Whatever it was, some long ago forgotten children’s lore kept him believing that it couldn’t get him if he stayed under the covers.
It a moment of terror, Hater suddenly realized what the unseen thing was doing; it was using the blanket to climb up onto the bed. He’d noticed too late, as he felt the weight on the bottom of his bed, accompanied by a thick gurgling sound.
He began to weep as he felt a hand- an actual hand- grasp at his leg, and tighten into a fistful of blanket, and pull itself along inch by inch. His eyes were wide, straining against the darkness at the thing approaching him. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the thing for one, horrifying second, and had Hater still possessed blood, it would have run cold.
Staring up at him was a face he’d never expected to see again. The nomad was missing his signature hat, but that wasn’t all he was missing.
"N-no…" Hater stammered, once again cast into darkness with the thing. "You can’t be, I… I was finally RID of you! I AM rid of you! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
It was true. Wander’s life had finally ended one year ago today, on Hater’s birthday, in the depths of his torture room. The carnage that was watching his furry little body pulled in two, his entrails spilling onto the cold floor, was almost too gruesome for the overlord to bear.
Hater could feel him pulling himself up, closer, his entrails dragging behind him, long ago spilled blood soaking into blanket, he could feel the warmth of it on his legs, he should not still be warm. Every flash of lightning showed him those empty eye sockets, staring at him, seeing him without seeing anything at all.
Fear held him there, pinned him down, paralyzed his very soul. And yet perhaps it was something more that chained him to this fate.
Was it guilt? That same guilt that stayed with him, gnawing at the back of his mind, his stomach, his non-existent heart? A strange sense of sadness, disappointment, emptiness that was always there under the guise of freedom, success, and accomplishment.
Wander was on his chest now. He could smell his putrid, rotting flesh, he could hear the wet gurgling, as if the fuzzy creature was forever drowning in his own blood and vomit.
Another flash of lightning, that wide, unforgettable toothy grin inches from his face.
"Happy birthday, Hater~" the thing gurgled, a cruel imitation of his usual, chipper voice. Hater opened his mouth to scream, but it was stolen away as long dead lips pressed to his mouth, in the first and last kiss he would ever receive.
And now I am informed my day off of work just became ‘LOL JUST KIDDING YOU GOTTA WORK BE READY IN THIRTY MINUTES. DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR PLANS.’ Might be fucking different if she PAID me. I guess I should have expected this on April 1st.
I kind of hope today is the day I finally get mauled by that rabid horse and die.
I had a dream last night where I was in a place and there was a group of homestuck cosplayers coming in and I was so happy and excited to see actual HS fans in real life, I hugged most of them and thanked them for existing. Then I woke up and realized it was just a dream and I’m still stuck in a tiny little town where no one has ever even heard of cartoons or webcomics and that I’ll be stuck in this shit town until the day I die and I cried a little.