me: this fella is my comfort character 🥰

someone: you know they're a psychotic monster and would kill you if you ever met-

me:

culo

Culone

peers in

hey.

A figure in your unconscious turns at your presence

Sacrificed some sleep last night to do some drawing :0

[Black and white drawing of Dream of the Endless, crouched and looking at the viewer. His eye sockets are shadowed; his eyes are stars. Inky black flows up his body. Three odd wings emerge from the black.]

lambs love

ko-fi / redbubble / shop

Hiiiii ❀(*´▽`*)❀ here I am after a good while-

So like always I present you more charas :D

19 minutes???? this can't stand

Idk how to take wide picture 😂 but my nintendo haul!

rolling around the dash like a cat. plops down with a tree.

Oh guess who is back from the death! Your favorite Phantomhive! 💕🥰💕 How are you all doing? 👀

&&. @longerhuman moved from legacy !

it's curious to see such a thing on another,  only ever seeing it through the hazy reflections of herself,  but ah—  that look.  this look.  that emptiness is ...       ❛   is it because you have no reason to live.   ❜       tone does not even lift to indicate a question,  speaking bluntly.  if their similarities would only continue from there,  then,  it makes sense for him to want to die. and even if you want to live,  do you have the qualifications to do so ?   what does it mean to  “ live ”  in the first place ?   knowing nothing of that,  knowing nothing about what it is to truly be  “ human ”  ...  she supposed it would only make sense.  what other option was there than to just disappear ?

—though,  where her's was an unfeeling resignation,  at least he wants to die.  as morbid a desire as it was,  it was still a desire.  something.  she has nothing at all.       ❛   i don't care about your present.  i don't care about what you want.   ❜       and whatever he's seeking for—  entertainment or a response or whatever.  what did he hope to get when faced with something as lacking as himself ?   it doesn't matter.  if i'm heartless,  then so are you.  she doesn't see a point in stating the obvious;  and just like herself,  surely he understood himself enough to realize that by now. 

lifting up the gun once more,  actions remain undiscernible but hands work to instead disassemble the revolver. her lack of skill in working it does not show through the action,  steady and smooth movements remained as mechanic as ever.  just like a machine.  metallic clinks fill the silence as the bullets are removed,  one by one,  carelessly spilled onto the floor.  there's a pause at the last bullet,  held in dainty digits.  a swift flicker to the other,  as if to gauge his reaction.  would you be disappointed ?   upset ?   any of it would be better than her unfeeling self.  but regardless of his feelings,  instead of joining the others,  the lone bullet would find its place loaded back into the cylinder.  a faint clicking sound following as it is then spun.

taking a seat on the floor,  she doesn't gesture for him to follow suit,  nor does she bother explaining.  only peering upwards with vacant eyes.  when gaze is met,  the item is set in the space between the two.       ❛   we can get one turn each.  whoever shoots first,  where they aim,  it doesn't matter.   ❜       nothing about it really matters,  but—

❛   ... if you're still alive,  tell me something about yourself.  ❜  

I see you peeps decided to gang up on me just like that

Ten thousand found dead. Miami. Crab wars.

I wonder if there is an Aldemu ship week event out there, somewhere im not even aware of.