m.

put the ✨ death ✨ in death metal 💜

Sometimes it blows my mind that there are people that don’t wear glasses/contacts. Like they can literally see with no aid. Like they wake up and just be out here seeing. What a wild concept.

And people say stuff like ‘lol don’t you hate it when you look up in the middle of the night and see a spider on your ceiling’ like bitch (!!) i could have Nicholas II last czar of Russia hangin from my ceiling fan and i would be none the wiser

gay_irl

PLEASE this interaction between a reaper player and a 76 player made me laugh so hard

talk about in character

Slave Knight Gael as the very final, climatic fight of Dark Souls as a franchise is definitely one of the most masterful strokes the franchise ever pulled.

To fight Gael, the Dark Soul of Humanity, at the very end of time itself, one on one, as the last two things left standing in a hostile, uncaring world that’s shutting down, its eroding carcass naught but a final arena for the two of you, is an incredibly fitting conclusion to everything in Dark Souls: It’s two nobodies in the middle of nowhere fighting over everything, however little that is.

In stark contrast with the Soul of Cinder, the godlike essence of everyone that has ever linked the First Flame, including your previous characters in Dark Souls 1 and 2 if you chose to link the Flame, all the way back to Gwyn, Slave Knight Gael is another undead not similar to you, no, he’s almost exactly like you, and the previous playable characters.

Slave Knights were canon fodder sent out for the grimmest missions and battles, intended as canon fodder and little else. Does that not sound familiar? “Slave Knight”, as a title, is basically just like “Chosen Undead” (with the context that ‘chosen’ here is but a lie), “Bearer of the Curse” and “Unkindled” (the formal title for the Ashen One): Just another nobody among many, upon which nobody puts any expectation. And just like the other three, Gael, specifically, is exceptional in that he never once gave up, and he carried on, and on, and on. 

Gael is the protagonist of a Dark Souls ‘game’ that we can’t play. And he’s old: He is the sole wielder of the Way of White Corona, a miracle that makes mention of the Way of White, a group so old, so long defunct and long forgotten that only someone from the era of the first Dark Souls could know of it, thousands if not tens of thousands of years prior to Dark Souls 3. Gael’s adventure has been an extremely long one, where at some point he met his very own Firekeeper/Emerald Herald equivalent: The Painter.

At the conclusion of this long journey, he finally reaches his objective: The Pygmy Kings of the Ringed City. And yet, at the very end, after all of that, countless lifetimes of toiling and laboring, he learns that their blood has dried out, meaning the Blood of the Dark Soul now cannot be used by the Painter. Gael goes insane from the revelation, that his torturously long quest has been for naught, as many things tend to be in the setting of Dark Souls, and starts devouring the Pygmy Kings, gorging himself on their Dark Soul, and attacks you on sight, ravenously hungry for more of the Dark Soul of Humanity.

And so the Slave Knight and the Unkindled fight, and the Unkindled’s attacks find purchase on the Knight, making him bleed, and here, here, is another stroke of incredible consistency and genius: Gael sees the black blood dripping from his wound, and calmly realizes that his quest has been a roaring success. The Blood of the Dark Soul, the pigment that the Painter needs, still exists: It’s in him now. He knows he can’t make it, he’s too far gone, possessed of so much Dark Soul that his individuality is on borrowed time, but this doesn’t trouble him, because in front of him is his ally, the Unkindled, who can promptly take the blood back to the Painter. He’s won. Gael won.

And just like Anri did after they defeated Aldrich, and like many, many other NPCs in all of the games did after accomplishing their ultimate goal… Gael hollows out. It is the pursuit of an objective, the determination and sheer dogged stubbornness to accomplish something, to focus and work towards something greater than oneself, that keeps cursed undead from hollowing. By winning, Gael finally let go, and hollowed out on the spot. We can affirm this is the case because the Hollowslayer Greatsword doesn’t receive its bonus damage against Hollows when used on Gael’s first phase, but it does deal bonus damage against Gael’s second and third phase.

And so, the very last fight in the game, the franchise, is initially against another one just like us, not another god or being of extreme power and mind-boggling gravitas, no, it’s something greater: It’s someone just like us, that killed countless other gods and beings of extreme power, just like we did. And when he hollows out, we effectively are not fighting Gael anymore, phase 2 and 3 might say “Slave Knight Gael” on the health bar, but the fight is ultimately against the Dark Soul of Humanity itself, finally taking the center stage, using Gael’s body. It’s you versus Humanity.

It is no coincidence that Gael’s weapon, a broken, rusted, jagged greatsword that has seen so much use and abuse throughout thousands of years, resembles the very first weapon every character in Dark Souls starts with: The humble Broken Straight Sword.

At the end of time itself, as the world crumbles and festers around you, as countless gods and pretenders lie dead by your feet, the only one that could possibly stand up to you is another one like you. Both of you, at the peak of your power, have one final, quiet showdown at the end of the world, with everything on the line, however little and insignificant ‘everything’ is now.

And if that isn’t the single most poetic and beautiful end to close Dark Souls, I sincerely don’t know what is.

If Zagreus was a boss in Hades 2 it would definitely be another cerberus situation

Crows are scary They

Guys I’m really scared of crows now. (q) 

Yeah but have you seen this 

A colleague of my dad’s lives next to a lake, and looked out the window one morning to see a duck trapped in the ice. A crow swooped down. “Oh hell,” she thought, expecting carnage, because crows are opportunists. But the crow chipped at the ice with its beak until the duck was free.

Idk of this counts but a few crows saved me from a magpie swooping attack once ,they’re bros who can tell when magpies are being unreasonable and need to chill

I love crows so damn much. When I was fifteen, I hit a pretty serious bout of depression, to the point I was in my room for months. Well, a family of crows made a nest in a tree outside my window. There were two parents and two chicks. One chick was healthy and strong. One was weak, and had a caw like something being strained. It sounded more like a rooster crowing and so my parents jokingly named him ‘Buck’.Well… months passed and Buck’s sibling was taught to fly. His parents focused on the sibling because the sibling was strong. The father stayed behind to try and teach Buck, but I saw him try to fly, fail, and crash to the floor. His father helped him back up into the tree.

Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.

That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him. 

Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree. 

That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.

Cut to ten years later? We have a family of crows who all have a very distinct caw and they come here and spend every spring, summer, and fall on our property. Buck still greets me every spring.

that last reply made me wanna cry. that’s so beautiful.

Don’t forget the Russian Crow SLEDDING DOWN A ROOF not once, but twice. 

this one morning i kept hearing really loud caws, i remember it was like 5am, LIKE REALLY LOUD AND ANNOYING AND AGGRESSIVE, so loud that i could hear it through a closed window, and i eventually went outside to check it out. there was a crow on my front lawn, it had an injury on its head and couldn’t fly and there were two other crows circling right above it, and they were cawing like mad. 

i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.

a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.

i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.

Best birbs !!

your son is Beautiful and Strong

every time I see this post it has different crow stories and every time I reblog it again because all crow stories are good stories

Like, I wouldn’t want to be on bad terms with a crow, but they are a really smart animal, they aren’t scary You just want to be nice to them because they will know and they will remember, and they will pay you back if you treat them a certain way.

As a side note, I volunteered at a rehab (Hope for Wildlife), where they were rehabbing a crow with a broken wing–who was named Russell Crow. He kept pulling his bandage off so a sleeve was cut off some old clothing and put on him like a little sweater. 

!!!!

I don’t think I’ll ever not reblog this. This posts makes me cry and smile at the same time.

He’s so handsome!!

Birds . . I like em

I love crows.

@eatmygayfist

me in my head at the supermarket: nobody is ever going to fucking love me. omg 25% off

I saw this post and couldn’t help it, the idea was TOO GOOD.

There's something really sweet about seeing a youtuber/streamer/whatever you liked when you were younger being openly queer now. Like man yes. I'm sobbing

My favourite thing about (most) Germanic languages:

Norwegian: due (pigeon), drue (grape)

Danish: due (pigeon), drue (grape)

Swedish: duva (pigeon), druva (grape)

Dutch: duif (pigeon), druif (grape)

Afrikaans: duif (pigeon), druif (grape)

Frisian: duif (pigeon), druif (grape)

German: Taube (pigeon), Traube (grape)

A few notable outliers: English, Scots, Icelandic

if i was harry from the british royal family i would just tweet "the queen died? thats too bad mines still alive though xoxo" with a picture of meghan markle and then turn my phone off

nothing better than the wrong capitalization of Sie

#‘’we are obliged to keep this data for 4 weeks after which it will be destroyed’’#versus#‘’we are obliged to keep this data for 4 weeks after which YOU will be destroyed’’

Adiris: *sneezes*

Mikaela, hiding in the locker: “Bless you.”

Adiris, in Akkadian: “God?”

I guess Hunk is just in The Legion now.

We've now got a band of murderous teenagers chaperoned by some security man in a gas mask.

I don't think people who act like Botw has the most feral iteration of Link have played Skyward Sword recently because Skyward Sword Link is WILD. Like Yeah Botw goes bomb fishing and catches small fuzzy animals with his teeth but he's a polite young man who helps those out around him. Skyward Sword Link despite his dopey little face is a MENACE. He will fling your chandelier on the ground in the middle of a crowded restaurant for having 5 USD on it. He WILL give your love letter to the shitter ghost to use, despite the fact that there is a ton of paper in literally the next room over. He WILL take a nice eight hour snooze in the shop you keep flying via peloton bike and make you lug his ass back to a distant island. Like he is completely and utterly fucked in the head and it makes the fact that he's the first one so much funnier

“Wait if I sheath my sword will he not attac-DID THIS TWINK JUST SLAP ME?!”

This scene always makes me laugh cause Zelda’s all “oh no the castle has fallen” and Link just looks like he’s thinking

“Damn that’s your house? That fucking sucks.”