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#so its eepy time
kwanisms · 17 days
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baeshijima · 1 month
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thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.
as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!
of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.
(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)
to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!
well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.
he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,
no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!
and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!
you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!
it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!
however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)
well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...
"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.
oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?
sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.
you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.
"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what am i to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"
oh.
...oh.
perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...
(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.
well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)
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hes all cosy :3
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dustykneed · 5 months
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graphic design is my passion (lie) pics nicked from here. dead spock sleep syndrome...
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felclipse · 10 months
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eepy,,, so eepy .......... 💤💤💤
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rowrowronnie · 1 year
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anyone remember that pyro is a robot headcanon? yeah um erm i also remembered that and also sorta maybe mightve gotten carried away a little bit.. tee hee..
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ohnoitsz1m · 13 days
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Uhh post canon Barney
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Man who has not had a break since the rescas and refuses to start now. Alyx and Gordon are hiding his gear as we speak while Kleiner distracts him.
I was sposed to do Alyx too but I blinked and it was 3 am so. Next time
Oh also I forgot to make a note but he does carry a sidearm
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mabaki · 2 months
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VSARTPARTY Aug 3 2024 EU & NA!
EU (1st)
Aurelia Dragonwings
Idunn Lumidern
Theodore La Mentia
NA (2nd)
Luenwen
Cladophora
NA (3rd)
Isgore Sharpscale
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krotiation · 23 days
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I'm running around divorced ceos au. Would katagawa Jr come to their divorce. Would he keep on trying to win Rhys over by shit talking Jack with him. I does it have to know kro (/ref) his stand in the au PLEASE
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Katagawa's trying to win Rhys over all the time, married or not, and Jack is a possessive lil brat over it 😔 Rhys at least has decorum to pretend not to be bothered when someone flirts with Jack
Also Rhys absolutely divorced Jack over the usual Jack typical behavior. Jealousy, anger issues, selfishness, clinginess, the whole shebang
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agentplutonium · 3 months
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Been in a weird writing funk for a few months now so I thought I'd try to write something small for y'all here. Of course, it is Milo/Sweetheart. Of course it is a comfort fic. This seems to be the theme when I am not in the best of spirits. Anyway, writing below the cut!!
"Sweets! I'm home!" Milo called as soon as he was in the door. The house was dark, something he noticed when he pulled into their driveway. The text that Milo sent to Sweetheart saying he was on his way home went ignored, which was unusual. The house was quiet too, which was also unusual.
Well, almost quiet, as the meows of Aggro started coming through the house as the cat made his way to Milo. Aggro found him as he was just putting his keys and wallet down, rubbing up against his legs and meowing up at him. He seemed a bit stressed more than usual, which worried him.
"Hi buddy," Milo said, a small smile on his face, bending down to pet him. "Where's Sweetheart?"
The cat blinked up at him for a second before taking off down the hallway. Milo followed without hesitation, worry creasing his brows. He knew that nothing bad had happened, but he still couldn't help but worry. They had bailed on the plans with the pack tonight because something came up at work again. They had been going nonstop for weeks at this point, early mornings leading to late evenings. It wasn't good for them, Milo could say that much. The tension that they carried in their body the last little bit was not fun to watch, or the growing dark circles under their eyes. Milo wished he could stop time every time he heard Sweetheart's alarm go off and they begrudgingly dragged themselves out of bed. Just to give them a few more moments of rest that he knew they deserved.
When Milo got to the bedroom, Aggro was staring at the closed door in front of him. Odd. Normally Sweetheart would leave it open enough for Aggro to come and go freely.
"Is this what had you so worried?" Milo asked him, to which he got a meow in response. Milo knocked gently on the door, ear pressed close to hear if they were in there. He didn't hear anything. A frown edged his lips. "Sweetheart? You in here?"
When he didn't get a response, he opened the door and stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dark fast and spotting a figure curled up in the bed. Aggro bolted under his feet and was on the bed in a split second. The figure on the bed stirred a bit as Aggro sniffed around before settling beside them.
As Milo turned on the bedside lamp, he realized that Sweetheart had fallen asleep still in their work clothes. He sighed, glad that they were okay and unharmed. He brushed some hair out of their face, hand trailing down their cheek afterwards. Sweetheart stirred a bit more, eyes blinking open at the touch.
"Well hello there," Milo said, a small giggle breaking out from under his breath. He still was rubbing gentle circles into their cheek.
"What time..." Sweetheart slurred, reaching for their phone that was haphazardly placed beside them. If Milo had to guess, they were likely on it before falling asleep, and it dropped when they were finally out. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Just after ten," Milo answered them when they frowned at their now dead phone. "Just got home."
"Sorry," Sweetheart muttered, rubbing their eyes.
"Don't apologize," Milo said, fondness dripping from his words. "But, I tell you what. Why don't you finally get out of these clothes and put on some pyjamas? It might be a bit more comfortable."
Sweetheart nodded, sitting up with the guidance of Milo's hands, a yawn spiling from their lips.
"Stay here," Milo whispered to them, crossing the room to the dresser, rooting around for a pair of pyjamas.
"You don't have to--" Sweetheart started.
"I want to, though," Milo cut them off, already walking back. "I'm still wondering how you were able to fall asleep like this," he said jokingly, placing the pyjamas beside them and plucking off their glasses.
"Was tired after work, and it was, like, 7 PM by the time I got home. I had already eaten so I was just gonna lay down for a little bit. Looks like I ended up falling asleep," Sweetheart explained.
"It must have been a long day," Milo commented, reaching for their wrist so that he could take off their watch. He kissed along their knuckles when he was done, and he just caught the small smile that graced their lips at the motion.
"Something like that," Sweetheart sighed.
He turned to place the items on the bedside table as Sweetheart started to change. When that was done, he reached for their phone to plug it in, already setting the alarms that they set every night in the process. It was quiet in the room, but Milo didn't mind that. As long as he could feel Sweetheart's aura pulsing from them in time with their core, that was all he needed. Not to mention Sweetheart was still half asleep, there probably wasn't anything that they wanted to talk about.
"Are you hungry?" Milo asked after he finished his tasks, pressing a kiss into Sweetheart's shoulder. "When was the last time you ate?"
"At six," Sweetheart said. "Supper was bought for us when we had to stay behind. It was very nice actually. Though..."
"You want a small snack don't you?" Milo teased, already moving back toward the kitchen. "The usual?"
"Please," Sweetheart said. There was a pause before Milo heard their feet come padding behind him. "I love you," They added from behind him.
"I love you too," Milo said, hand instinctively reaching behind him. Sweetheart's fingers intertwined with them in a heartbeat, making Milo's chest fill with warmth. "Some would even say I love you more."
"Impossible," Sweetheart said, chuckling.
In the kitchen, Sweetheart didn't break away from him until he handed them their smoothie drink from the fridge. Milo grabbed the last of the strawberries from the fridge, and grabbed a bowl and a knife, before settling beside where they sat on the counter.
"How was the party?" Sweetheart asked. "Did you have fun?"
"Not as much fun as I would've if you were there," Milo said sincerely. He loves his pack, of course he does, but he also loves showing off for Sweetheart who loves his antics. Secretly.
"Oh, stop," Sweetheart said, but even when they took a sip of their drink they weren't able to hide their smile.
"And the pack missed you," Milo added. "Got asked where you were at least every few minutes for the first, like, half hour."
"They missed me that much?"
"You've barely been around for three weeks at this point, Sweets, of course they have," Milo said. "They love you."
Sweetheart didn't answer, but Milo could sense that they were glowing without even looking at them. When he did glance at them, he was caught by their beauty again. Even like this, with their hair a mess, cheeks red with sleep, and the last remaining lines fading from their skin. God, was he ever lucky to have them.
When Sweetheart realized what he was doing, they groaned, pushing his face away from them. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" Milo asked, chuckling.
"Looking at me like that!"
"Like you're the only person in the whole world?" Milo asked.
Sweetheart didn't answer, just grumbled something, much to Milo's amusement. "Just focus on the strawberries before you cut your finger off."
"Please," Milo said, "I could do this in my sleep."
"I'm not rushing you to the hospitable if you hurt yourself," Sweetheart said.
"Sure," Milo said. "The love of my life, my mate, wouldn't bat an eye if I accidentally cut myself."
"I wouldn't," Sweetheart said.
"Which is totally reasonable," Milo said, "especially after I've been terrorizing you with my lov--ow!"
Milo dropped the knife, clutching his right thumb with his other hand. Sweetheart immediately reacted, placing their drink down and grabbing for his hand.
"What did I tell you! Here, let me see," They chided, brows creasing together as they pried his fingers away from his thumb to see--nothing. Sweetheart stared at his thumb for a few moments, blinking, before they groaned again. "You jerk!" They said, lightly pushing him away. "I was worried about you!"
"So you do worry when I hurt myself," Milo teased.
"You're evil," Sweetheart grumbled, crossing their arms.
Milo hummed, scootching over so that he could settle between their legs, a hand automatically settling on their thigh. "You love me," he said, his other hand coming up to cup the back of their neck and pull them in for a kiss. For someone who thought he was evil, they sure did respond to his touch, melting into him the second their lips touched.
"Evil," they muttered against his lips, though with considerably no force behind it.
"Will this make up for it?" Milo asked after he pulled away, reaching for the bowl beside them and presenting it.
"Maybe," Sweetheart said. They accepted the offered bowl.
"Dork," Milo muttered fondly, stealing a strawberry half. Sweetheart didn't respond, just wrinkling their nose at him. "Do you have the weekend off?"
Sweetheart nodded. "Finally."
"Perfect," Milo said, smiling.
"I swear to God if you say 'like you'--"
"Like you," Milo said, chuckling when Sweetheart lightly smacked his chest. "Eat, so we can go to bed."
--END--
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problemcore · 2 years
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4/4
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kopivie · 11 months
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as a continuation of this post.
you squeeze your eyes tight and wait for the worst to happen. you can only imagine what sort of pain you were about to be subjected to. your stomach churns as your mind conjures up the sickening sounds of bones crushing and teeth gnashing; of flesh being ripped from the bone and blood being splattered like paint upon a canvas. you wait, and you wait as the gardemek gets closer. you can practically taste the putrid steam that pours from its nostrils. you wait and you wait...
...but death never comes. or at least, not in the way you expect it to.
"at ease."
his voice is gruff, like he's speaking through his teeth. you've never heard him like this before. on any other occasion he's calm, cool, and collected; he normally sounds like he has everything under his control. but right now, after hearing him sound like he's holding himself back, you wonder what expression he's wearing.
you're paralyzed with fear. your entire body is taut and wound tight, almost as though rigor mortis has already set in. but you're not dead, you have to tell yourself. you're not dead. you repeat that phrase over and over like a mantra in your head even as the presence of the three-headed gardemek diminishes. you're not dead. you're not dead, not dead, not dead not dead not--
"you're okay."
your eyes may still be closed, but you know he is here. he is right in front of you. you can feel it. you can feel him. his hands are ghosting over your frame -- your hair, your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks. you can smell him, rich and heady -- intoxicating. hell, you can practically taste him with how close he seems to be.
he calls your name. his voice is still rough, but it is becoming softer as he speaks. perhaps he doesn't want to scare you any more than he already has. "look at me," he begs. he pleads. would he grovel if you asked him to? "please, look at me. open your eyes, my love. you're safe. it's been taken care of."
your neck feels stiff as you shake your head.
you feel his hands finally come to rest on your cheeks. his hands are calloused and cold, yet also warm and grounding. his touch sends a shiver down your spine. your joints creak as you bring your hands up to cover his own.
"that's it," he breathes. "i'm right here. breathe with me. i'm here. nothing will hurt you while i'm here."
your breathing is shallow, but he, wriothesley, is patient. he is always patient when it comes to you. four beats pass, then six, then ten. your breathing is stable and he is still here, grounding you to this plane of existence. finally, finally, you open your eyes.
and there he is. pale grey eyes stare back into your own. maliciously, your mind wanders to the sky above the overworld. you wonder if today is sunny. perhaps the sky is overcast. if it is, you wonder if the clouds are the same color as his eyes.
you used to seek refuge in nature whenever times got tough. but since you won't be returning home for the forseeable future, you let your mind run free. you start to sink as you return his gaze. lower, lower, and lower still. the closest you will ever get to seeing the overworld again is by staring into his overcast eyes. you hope and pray to whatever god exists that you'll get a glimpse of some cumulus cloud reflected through his irises. but when reality inevitably hits you, when the adrenaline starts to bleed from your pores and your body starts to deflate, you realize that the only thing that's reflected in his eyes is you.
he does not dream of the overworld. he does not dream of freedom like you do. he does not wish for a life outside of these walls. he wants for naught but you.
you feel bile sour your tongue. some savior he is. your words of thanks become rotten and disgusting. you swallow it all back and tear your eyes away from him. "i want to lay down." your voice is hoarse. "take me to my room." belatedly, you add a, "please."
he regards you closely. he analyzes you, scans you like the very gardemek that you nearly lost your life to mere moments ago. in times like these, you wonder just how much difference exists between him and the very mechanical beasts he commands.
his hands leave your face and he sighs. you recognize that sigh. defeat. he won't get any gentle treatment from you today either. but you know he won't think much of it. he never does. he will try again tomorrow.
hopefully, you think as you march to your room, he does something about that monster.
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how-to-humaning-401 · 19 days
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hooray yippee yahoo yay yay i stylized snatcher its been over a year and i finally stylized an ahit character
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tired old man...
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and uh might as well put the whole alive family here too bc uhhhh silly
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also uhhhh yknow snatchductor because eeeehhehhehueueuahuuee i miss them.......
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crunchycapn · 9 months
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Face Studies!!
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Blorbo's Eepiest Soldier
Thank you everyone for your kind words, I'm doing better and am back to it <3
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Heard you needed non DCA stuff so here's some pretty pictures!
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(and just throwing one from one of my all time favorite games ever, Superliiminal)
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Hi! Thanks for the pretty pics i took them and ran with it! Introducing the lady of the lake and that one mermaid obsessed kid at your school
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This is like the most messy i have gotten with my coloring but i am eepy so i go to bed now
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