#in this chapter also represented:

[thornedarrow]

…because the painful words of the past have essentially nothing to do with who you are. - 2.24 if i may shed away my burden now

[i-still-dont-know-a-username]

Don't get me wrong, "The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite" is a quote that absolutely hits me square in the chest every time.

..But I feel like putting it in italics under an aesthetic picture is kinda neglecting the context, since Piranesi has Nearly Drowned when he first says that.

[greyscale-enthusiast]

ch. 258 / ch. 260

i mean kaisers backstory was quite as heavy as we imagined maybe even worse but i found this little symbolism cool

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

yeah i don’t think any of you should be surprised by this point

have the yashiro commission

[hinata-boke]

[hannahssimblr]

The road towards home is long and dark. The streetlights taper off after ten minutes, and as we reach the major stretch of road toward the beach, the only light is from passing cars and the faint glow of cats’ eyes under the moon's light. But the stars are out, clear and bright and spectacular. 

Evie and I have stopped saying things to each other. Initially, she was apologising for being too heavy, for borrowing my hoodie, for imposing and being an inconvenience in all the ways she could think of, but she was wrong. She’s a perfectly lovely passenger, whether she likes it or not.  

But it is quiet now, and I can’t think of anything acceptable to say to her. Perhaps it’s that the journey home is long, and with the extra weight, I am concentrating on keeping the bike balanced and upright. Maybe I am awkward and have forgotten how to converse with girls. Or maybe the comfortable silence feels more courteous to the sleeping countryside. 

About halfway through our journey, a silhouette rises, inky black against the deep blue sky, from behind a thicket of trees lining the road. A church. Several times in summers passed, I cycled as far as it, just to have something to do. 

Years ago, when my parents first bought the beach house, it was a community hall, then it was a meeting place for model railway enthusiasts. I used to watch them through the windows, waiting for them to notice me so I could say whatever rude thing I had saved up and run away, weaving through the crooked gravestones before they could catch me. 

It’s abandoned now, though nobody ever bothered to bolt up the door. I’ve been visiting on and off throughout my summers, sometimes just reading the graves, sketching, and poking around with the vague hope that I might find something interesting like a mummified skeleton or a book full of ancient secrets. 

Last year I brought Michelle, and she decided to give me an awkward blowjob in the pew. She didn’t want to kneel on the floor among the broken glass and discarded beer bottles so she sort of hovered over me in a frog pose, then had to stop because her thighs were cramping and she realised she was overcome with an unshakeable sense that God was judging her. She’s not even Christian. For me, it was the opposite, and I felt more like I was having something related to a religious experience, but I understood her point of view. 

There is something very Catholic about Evie Kilbride. I suspect she’ll like the inside of this church. Any church. Aren’t they known to enjoy ecclesiastical sites?  

“Do you want to see something?”

“Yeah.”

I turn my bike down a rocky path where all residual light vanishes, and the darkness envelops us. It’s more overgrown than it’s ever been, with twigs and branches lightly whipping against my arms and legs. When I skid to a halt thatch of nettles sting my ankle. I swear under my breath and rest my hands against the churchyard wall. I know that my eyes will adjust to the darkness, but I’m having a hard time seeing even what is one metre in front of my face.

I ask Evie to hand me my Nokia, and she snickers as she pulls it out of my hoodie pocket. “Nice phone. Is it the new Blackberry?” 

It’s heavy and solid like a brick. “Ha ha. Can your Blackberry do this?” I find the right button and light blasts from the torch at the top of it. It’s a highly embarrassing piece of technology, the kind of gadget that someone like Liam would carry unironically, but it’s the only phone that has ever made sense for me to have. It doesn’t break no matter what I do to it. I have dropped it, kicked it, and left it out in the rain. Last week it survived a spin in the washing machine.

The light glances the jagged cap of the wall. It’s mossier and more dilapidated than last year. Nevertheless, it looks sturdy enough to hold me. With my phone in my mouth, I take a running jump at the wall, my hands finding purchase with ease. I remember when I was smaller, and this was so hard. All of those years ago when I was… I shine the light down at Evie, waiting expectantly at the bottom. 

…About her height. 

Once I have scanned the other side of the wall for any shopping trolleys or bits of rock that might complicate our landing, I turn back to find her struggling up the side of the wall. 

“Give me your hands.” I place the phone down and haul her up. She’s light, I knew that already, but she is nimble too. With a fluid swing of one long leg over the wall she sits facing me for a beat. Two. 

She drops my hands.

My torch surveys the other side one last time before I determine it's safe enough to leap off. I land with a soft thud on the overgrown grass, then reach for her again. 

“It’s too high.”

“I’ve got you.”

Slowly, she scoots to the edge of the wall and cautiously turns around to ease herself down the side. One foot scrapes along the side and I grab her immediately, my hands firm on her waist as I lower her to the ground. 

She’s breathing quite hard. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“If you want to go home, I can take you home.”

“No, I want to stay.”

“Alright.”

My phone light shines onto the uneven ground, the mounds of grass, some flattened by footfall, some over grave sites, while the headstones jut from the earth in broken clusters. 

“Where are we?” she says. A snarl of blackberry briars tugs on my sock, and a rain beaten cider can in the middle crunches underfoot. 

“Oh, we’re in a graveyard.”

“Yeah. This way.”

I lead her to the church doors, which rattle as she reaches out and lays her hands flat against them. With her mouth agape, she stares up toward the steeple. 

“A church,” she breathes. “An abandoned church.”

God, she’s weird. 

“Can I show you what’s inside?”

“Is it safe?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

The door is stiff as I push on it and it creaks open with the scrape of dried leaves against the tiles. The torch sends a beam of light down the aisle, punctuated with litter and debris. As she walks, I guide her gently away from any pieces of the broken window that have splintered on the floor.  

“There, look,” I say, and point the torch at the stained glass window above the altar. Remarkably, it is still intact, even when most else inside the church has been so thoroughly vandalised. “This is what I wanted you to see.”

She steps closer and stares at it for a long time. It’s a nice window, that much is objective. I have always liked the style of the religious figures. The woman, an angel, I think, with her long, languid shapes, has hands that meet in prayer as her long neck lolls to the side. A male figure kneels at her feet, a crystalline tear on his cheek as he weeps. About what I don’t know, it’s a scene I’d find in the Bible. maybe, if I ever became a person compelled to read it. Its appeal isn’t in its meaning so much as it is in its style. How gothic it is. The level of intricacy. 

“It’s incredible,” Evie says. 

“Yeah, I thought you’d like to see it.”

Her eyes dance with intrigue as moonlight shimmers through the glass and throws abstract colour over her face. “Thanks for showing me.”

“A bit emo, isn’t it? They both look so sad.”

When I glance at her, she's looking right back.

I want to kiss her. 

My eyes run all over her face, and my heart picks up in my chest. “Do you believe in ghosts?” 

“I d-”

I switch off the torchlight.

She shrieks, and just like that; I have successfully destroyed the moment. In the rafters above, a cauldron of bats comes to life, flapping and squeaking as Evie gasps, “Jude! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry! Are you scared?” I reach for her through the dark, finding her wrists, her pulse jumping under the skin. “I’ve got you, you’re fine.”

“That was mean,” she whimpers, and I feel bad. Usually, things like this are funny, and everyone thinks so, but I didn’t really take the time to consider how the outcome might be different in a church with a haunted ambience.

“It was, I’m sorry.” I switch the light back on and point it towards the ceiling so that she can see the bats retreating, and that none of them, in fact, are coming to bite her. 

She slips free of my grip and smoothes down her hair. “I could almost feel them clawing at my head.”

“They wouldn’t.”

“They might.”

Another shudder rips through her. “let’s get out of here. I can’t stand the thought of them coming back down and… getting me, or whatever.”

With a swift turn, she marches toward the door while I follow behind, sheepish, and more convinced than ever that something is indescribably wrong with me.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter [2]

[sirenspells]

[Amnesiac Omori AU]

The day before Omori appears in the real world, Sunny has a dream that is totally normal and totally doesn't mean anything :3

[akkivee]

the pivotal points in bat’s past 🤔

kuukou

age ????- his best friend moved away

age 14: attained a higher level of asceticism than his father, met hitoya who helped clear an assault charge on some good will that went awry

age 15: left home to flex his talent, got humbled quick lol but met ichiro and vowed to grow stronger

jyushi:

age ???? (presumably 6)- received amanda from his grandmother

age 13- started middle school where he ‘befriends’ iyogi

age 14- has been a victim of bullying for a year and the bullying escalated to the point his grandmother was killed. met hitoya who made sure iyogi ain’t seeing the light ever again and a little later helped jyushi find the will to keep living

hitoya

age 14- loses his brother

age 23- upon receiving a tip, he decided to change majors from being a doctor to a lawyer in order to jail the guy that bullied his brother. broke up with jakurai after a disagreement

age 31- meets kuukou and jyushi for the first time and we see the fruits of his lawyer efforts

[passerines]

really quick thing but i had to get it out immediately once i thought about it

Edit 05/26/2023: thank you to @princess-of-purple-prose for assistance writing the following image ID!

[Image ID: Digital fanart of Vash from Trigun Maximum. Vash is depicted in profile. He is kneeling with his face pressed to the ground, his hands braced on either side of his head in a pose reminiscent of prayer or prostration. He is sobbing. The background is white with a gray cross. Excerpts of text float through the background, with the last three lines surrounding Vash. They read:

If you are Gilgamesh and did those things, why Are you so emaciated and your face half-crazed?

I have grieved! Is it so impossible To believe? he pleaded. My friend who went through everything with me Is dead!

No one grieves that much, she said. Your friend is gone. Forget him. No one remembers him. He is dead.

Enkidu. Enkidu. Gilgamesh called out: Help me. They do not know you As I know you. End Image ID.]

[plan-3-tmars]

just finished reading dungeon meshi (I will never recover) so take some sleepy thistle panels I collected

[buttercup-art]

hey

[talesofwhimsy]

I'm 100 pages into Moby Dick and they just got on the goddamn boat

This book actually kinda fucks hard it's great?

[eggbagelz]

old stories say sigtings of her started after the first fires

[authenticcadence18]

WHAT IF I CRIED OVER THE DIPPER AND PHINEAS LISTENING TO BABBA ART WHAT THEN

[im-s0rry]

Scamcair and The Existential Dread Lurking In My Mind :D

Hello all and welcome to tonight's posting of a bit of fanart and interpretations of, what I would assume to be, an AU of one of my friends in this sphere. But first, a prelude and a check in with my mental health.

As you all know by now, I am a System. I live with my Headmates in this Headspace where we all must suffer together. In all truth, we have been doubting ourselves. We've all been feeling this bit of existential dread on whether we truly are a System or not, on whether we're anything we say that we are. I hate to drag all of you, those who may not understand my personal pain, but I feel like I should state it for the record. I do not want it to go unsaid that I have been having these thoughts, but I also want to say that being a System has been freeing to us all. Our collective lives have felt so different in the best way possible from just the fact that we know what we are and that we have embraced it.

However, this was not the place to say all of this, I will admit. What I may also admit is that I have been both drawing Spamcair and have been drawing my interpretations of what this "Grimm Deltarune" character in my good friend Mr. Chaos's Self Insert AU could possibly be. After all, I would be the most knowledgeable person to ask what I would look like. . .At least I'd assume.

Firstly, my sketches of Scamcair.

I decided to take a few creative liberties with the design and add a few more elements from outfits of classical composers as well as adding more detail to the design in general. To @mrchaosman and @mercair , I hope I did this design justice in your eyes.

Secondly, we have my interpretations of myself, as well as my System, as what we could look like in a "Self Insert AU Chapter Three."

Take One - Take One is my idea for myself/Serena as the main boss of Chapter Three. I based her design off of an outfit that Serena just loves to be drawn in as well as incorporating ideas from mob bosses and rook chess pieces for the design as a whole.

Take Two - Take Two is my idea for my System as one collective secret boss. I based the design of Macabre off of lost media creepypastas as well as rabbits and an outfit my System has taken a liking to. The reason for the choice in making them a Bunny was because The True Mike Deltarune is a Bunny actually. . .And no other reasons whatsoever. Anyway, I can imagine Macabre as either an empty husk or a puppet that can flip on a dime to any one of the six people locked inside of her. Anyway, I represented my System by making us FRIENDs because we're all friends around here! They can shift Macabre's body at will because that's pretty cool and body horror-y if I do say so myself.

Take Three - Finally, Take Three was my idea for My System in the place of WD Gaster. This basically just resulted in me drawing our sonas as Goners which was pretty fun in all honesty. I do not know why I made Helvetica the Mystery Man sprite equivalent though.

And that, my friends, was a bit of fanart for Scamcair's AU that Mr. Chaos Man kind of just put me in for no real reason other than for the funsies. I hope you all enjoyed your time reading through this and found the designs passable. To all a goodfright. . .

-Sincerely, Jackal.

[thathilomgirl]

Just some interesting notes from an interview between Nozomu Mochizuki and the publisher TO Books regarding Tearmoon's writing