#works like a charm lol

[lifeofkaze]

Where All Stories End

Warning: mortal injury, major character death

The wind was howling around the ancient walls of Fraser Hall. The storm that had been building over the Scottish Highlands had broken earlier in the evening, the leaden clouds looming so close to the ground that it looked as if the sky were caving in on itself.

The man in the library wasn’t aware of the clattering raindrops against the windows. He was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, as he had been for hours - back and forth, back and forth. His gaze was directed inwards, his fingers toying with the chain of the pocket watch adjusted to his waistcoat, quietly mumbling to himself as he went.

Presently, Henry Lovecraft stopped at the heavy oak desk the lady of the house had moved there for his convenience. Picking up the quill and dipping it into his inkwell, he set the feather to the paper. Before the tip could touch it, however, Henry paused. Frozen, he watched as the first jet-black drop formed on the quill’s end, growing bigger, heavier, laden with all the words of all the worlds. Eventually, it fell, landing on the pristine parchment with a quiet thud. It was a soft sound, nothing compared to the beating against the glass outside, but to Henry’s ears, the impact sounded deafening. 

With a sigh heavier than the mountain on his heart, Henry dropped the quill again, turning away from the desk and the empty parchment staring at him. The whispers, which had been quiet for the time he’d stood at the desk, returned, begging him, luring him, asking him to tell their story - no, their story - no, their story.

Henry shut his eyes, too weary to keep the whisperings at bay. He didn’t know what was happening; as long as he could remember, the stories of the past had talked to him. They had always invited him, like friends, lovers, making the past his playground and the present his stage. It was his gift, his singular talent, the one thing that had set him apart from everybody else. Lately, however, his gift had turned into a curse. The stories wouldn’t stop haunting him, calling for him louder than ever before, but every time he tried to put them to paper, they would vanish like the ghosts time had made them. The words slipped through his fingers like fog, only to return and envelope him again as soon as he turned his back. 

Henry let himself sink into the chequered armchair close to the fire, stretching out his long legs with the worn, slightly too big slippers Selene had given him on his feet. He took out his pocket watch and flipped it open, studying the familiar face of the token that had once belonged to his father. It had stopped working earlier in the evening, and Henry fiddled with the button on top, watching the hands of the clock turn at his will. He brought it to his heart, but, of course, there was no sound. The clockwork wasn’t ticking, as if the watch was stuck in an eternal moment in time. 

A smile flickered across Henry’s face. A strangely comforting thought. 

“Uncle Henry?”

The sound of a small voice made Henry break from his musings. Looking up, he saw that a little girl had slipped into the library. She was dressed in a nightgown, her dark hair held in place by a haphazard plait and the bow Henry had brought back from his latest trip to Greece. 

“Caitlin,” Henry smiled. “Why are you up at this hour? It must be close to midnight. It’s far too late to wander, especially in a storm like this.”

“I know,” Caitlin Fraser sniffed and shuffled closer, “but I cannot sleep. The wind is howling so loudly. Will you keep me company?”

Henry hesitated. “I shall if you wish it so. But wouldn’t it be better if you found your mother?”

Caitlin made a dismissive noise that made her sound more grown up than a girl of five. 

“Mother is in one of her moods tonight.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “She locked herself in her study again, and I swear I can hear her pacing. What is the matter with her, Uncle? Why must she always be like this?”

Henry suppressed a sigh. Storms had always made Selene feel restless, trapped inside without a means of escape. And it wasn’t only that; it had been almost six years now since…

“Come here, little Cat,” Henry said, closing his arms around Caitlin, who rested her head against his chest. “Leave your mother be. She has her own ghosts who haunt her.”

“There are no such things as ghosts,” Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “Everyone knows that, Uncle Henry.”

“I think Alan would like to disagree.” 

Caitlin frowned, as if she hadn’t even considered her mother’s undead pet ferret up to this point. 

“That’s different,” she declared eventually. “Alan was always like this.”

“Was he?” Henry had meant it as a joke, but somehow, the thought made him contemplative. “What do you think ghosts are, Caitlin?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlin said, looking at him quizzically. “Do tell, Uncle Henry.”

“Judging by the ghosts I’ve met,” Henry said, ignoring Caitlin’s doubtful look, “ghosts are a little like memories. They linger in our world because something’s keeping them. Something that’s too important for them to let go.”

“Like what?”

“It depends. Some have unfinished business to attend to. Some are too scared to move on. And some… some just don’t want to be forgotten.”

Caitlin hummed thoughtfully. “That sounds dreadfully sad, don’t you think? Why wouldn’t you want to go to Heaven when it’s your time?”

Because some people die before their time, Henry was about to say but held the words back; Caitlin was too young to learn this dire truth. 

“I don’t think it’s sad at all,” he told her instead. “For some, maybe, but there’s something beautiful in getting to pass on your story, don’t you think?”

“But that’s what you are for, Uncle Henry. You and your books. It’s what you do.”

“It’s what I do,” Henry echoed, trying not to think about the empty parchment on his desk, “but a thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be enough to tell all the stories of this world, little Cat.”

Caitlin giggled, sheepishly covering her mouth with her hand. It was one of Henry’s favourite sights; it made the stern little girl look more like the child she actually was. 

“You will need to become a ghost yourself, Uncle Henry. Then you’ll have all the time in the world. Oh, just imagine! The first proper ghost I would know. Apart from Alan, of course.”

Henry laughed quietly. “Of course. I do hope I shall be here for a while longer, though.”

“But one day, maybe.”

“One day, maybe.” 

The two of them sat silently for a while, listening to the fire crackling and the wind beating against the window panes. 

“I asked Mother about Father today,” Caitlin whispered presently. 

Henry exhaled slowly. “What did she say?” 

“Nothing, like always. She forbade me to ask about him again.” She raised her face away from where she had snuggled against Henry’s chest. “Sometimes, I wish you were my father.”

There was a dropping sensation to his stomach as Henry gently adjusted the bow on Caitlin’s hair. “Don’t say that.”

“But why? Why can’t you be?”

“I am your Uncle Henry, am I not?”

“I wish you were it, though,” Caitlin stubbornly insisted, her jaw set in the same way her mother always did. “I don’t even know my real father, and I bet Mother doesn’t know him either, or else she would have told me. How can you not know something like this?” 

Henry shook his head. “The story of your father is not mine to tell.”

“How entirely unfair.”

“It might appear so, but there is nothing I can do about it, I’m afraid.” Taking Caitlin by the shoulders, he lifted her to the ground. “But there are other stories I could tell you. Do you wish for me to read them to you?” 

Caitlin’s face lit up. “Will it be one of a princess in a castle and her handsome prince?”

“If you wish it so.”

“And you will stay to wait out the storm with me?”

“Of course, little princess.”

“Thank you.” Caitlin flung her arms around Henry’s waist. “You and your stories are the best.”

“There’ll always be a story for you with me,” Henry smiled, biting the insides of his cheeks as those big eyes, which reminded him so much of her mother, looked back up at him. “Hurry along now, Your Majesty. I’ll select a book and be right with you.”

Caitlin smiled and flitted away, her light footsteps drowned out by the thunder rolling outside. Henry stared after her for a moment before gathering thoughts and turning toward the bookshelves lining the walls. He knew exactly which book to get for Caitlin; he could already feel it calling to him. Its lure was oddly strong, much stronger than Henry knew it to be. He trusted the feeling to guide him deeper into the darkness of the room, not bothering to take a light. He knew where he was going. 

An almost dreamlike smile on his face, Henry climbed the ladder to reach the top part of the bookcase he had been headed for. He thought of how Caitlin’s face always brightened at the part where the prince would rescue the princess; she would look exactly like her mother then, only that Selene had always preferred the dragon to the knight in shining armour. 

Thinking of the two women he considered family, Henry extended his hand. A shudder ran through him as his fingers brushed the worn edge of the storybook. It felt strange, like a cold whisper breathing down the exposed skin of his neck.

Caught off guard by the sensation, Henry’s foot in the too-big slippers lost hold on the rack of the ladder, and suddenly, there was nothing beneath him but emptiness. Sudden panic struck him, making him cling to the first thing Henry could get hold of - the upper edge of the bookcase. His feet kicking against it, the ladder fell away, and for one horribly long moment, Henry Lovecraft hung there, his fingers slowly slipping off the polished wood. The thought of his father’s watch flashed in his mind, set for one moment in time, forever and all eternity.

Then, the bookcase began to topple, pulled forward by Henry’s weight. He screwed his eyes shut and let go as he rushed towards the ground, spinning around as books and whispering pages rained down around him. As the thunder rolled outside, the bookcase collided with the back of his head with a final-sounding crush. 

Raising his eyes one final time, Henry saw the book he had wanted to bring Caitlin just beyond his fingertips. He reached for it, his vision already fading, fingers just so grazing the old spine. Another shiver.

Then, darkness.

[misersdream]

Slay the Prince - Happily Ever After

[notherpuppet]

Hello! Okay, so i have question about your radioapple human AU. (I don't know if you've answered this question yet)

Is there a special day when you post another part of this AU? (first, i thought it's like 3 days, then that on Tuesday, but now i don't know, should i wait for some exactly day or its random? 😭)

I work on it in my leisure time, and some weeks are busier than others. There’s no schedule for release. I’ll post the next part when I finish it.

I promise that I’m the most eager to see the next part finished haha.

And I’m very eager to share it with you all 🤗

I’m sorry it’s inconsistent, but this is something I do for funsies outside of my duties in life

[exhausted-undead]

so I went into a fugue state for two days and spat this out at the end (phantom decided to reach it's little claws into my brain again)

[yardsards]

i needed to express a sentiment in the creative stylings of @dunmeshiminimumwage

[sainteclectic]

the thing that's vital to understand about cccc is that they have reasons for what they do. but also, and this is important, they all kinda suck

mind is doing what he believes is best for them. he wants to be the perfect solution to every problem. he's also arrogant and incredibly petty, gloating and bitching every chance he gets about how much better he is than heart. he pretends his own feelings are just logical conclusions, while also devaluing other people's feelings. he sucks!

heart was never listened to by mind. he knows he's "weak and vile" but believes (rightfully!) that emotions are needed to survive. he also literally shot someone, refuses to admit that literally shooting someone is bad, and stubbornly both complains he's not listened to and never listens to anyone else. he sucks!

soul is exhausted. he's gone through this countless times, enduring the same arguments over and over. he just wants it to stop. so, he exerts as much power as he can over the two of them and threatens their lives. he's simultaneously both the most in control (of the three) and powerless (in the narrative), and he tries to control the other two for his own ends (even if those ends are ultimately good for them all). he sucks!

the story of cccc is ultimately about guys who kinda fucking sucks for their own reasons. the story is about the raw, unsanitized experience of mental illness. of course they're all deeply fucked up! removing their flaws is just re-sanitizing the purposeful mess that is the album and its characters

[mellosdrawings]

If Vil can’t resist his kid’s puppy dog eyes, that makes me imagine they’re planning something and they specifically plan around asking Vil because he can’t say no.

Leona and Jamil will make some kind of intervention.

Koffi and Urcon would definitely go to Vil if they reeeeeally want something. That's something we did with my brothers. My little brothers had the biggest wettest puppy eyes so he would go for our mom, and I knew how to sweet talk my dad. (My big bro could do neither though lmao)

Koffi and Urcon would do the same. Vil already has a hard time with Urcon's puppy eyes, but add Koffi's and he's done for. Once they get older though it gets easier for Vil to resist.

And yeah, whenever it suddenly gets too calm, Leona and Jamil know to check up on Vil coz chances are he got had by the kids again haha.

[sea-buns]

Despite all of his failed insight checks across every season, Gorgug is forever the insight guy to me. Which is even more insane considering his wis is 12. But it just suits him so perfectly. Stats be damned, you ask me who my go-to for insight is in that group, I'm gonna say Gorgug almost immediately. And I don't even think that's because he does insight so often—in my head he's just genuinely good at it. In specific circumstances, yes other bad kids are much better suited for it than he is. But Gorgug carries this aura of emotional intelligence and awareness that trounces any other statistical or contextual factor.

Even in the way he prompts things. Like with the connection to Lydia and the red crystals, for example. Any time he poses a question that knocks us all on our asses, it's always in the form of an insight check. It's always insight, even when it's this crazy revelation about some insane magical bullshit that you'd prolly attribute more towards int or arcana. But IN THAT CONTEXT, for HIM, insight makes the MOST sense. It's his thing.

Can barbarians have proficiency in insight? Can artificers? Can barbarian-artificers? Maybe it's odd in a dnd party for the rage-guy to come off as the most emotionally intuitive. But if any one of the bad kids were to have it, I'd assume Gorgug, without question.

[bobbinalong]

little dudes

[duchesskatriel]

2. Dream

[seeker-n-rico]

| Flying Lessons á la Hermes (Reposted) |

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[iwoulddieforienzo]

Something really great about the persona 2 cast is that they all individually fucking SUCK to talk to casually. Every single one of them. They are all infuriating. We have:

Tatsuya, who will stare at you blankly if you try to initiate conversation (IS) and will dip without saying a word afterward (EP)

Batsuya, who will scoff and brush you off/otherwise act dismissive

Eikichi, who might honestly be the best to talk to in the IS crew and that is not saying much, who WILL talk extremely loudly over you (probably not on purpose?) and will not be paying particularly close attention to the conversation beyond whatever he wants to say (gets points for talking about his gf. gets points taken away for constantly talking about his gf)

Lisa, who will automatically assume bad faith and will be rude to you the entire conversation unless you manage to defuse her temper (good luck)

Jun, who is uncommunicative at BEST and requires an encyclopedic knowledge of flowers, metaphor and body language just to get a HINT on what he’s thinking, and who will be extremely polite but completely unhelpful. If you tried asking him what he wants for dinner I guarantee it will be the longest 30 minutes of your life as he goes “oh I have no opinion :) whatever you want. :))” EXCEPT HE DOES HAVE OPINIONS. He has SO MANY OPINIONS. He is Expecting you to be able to pick up on his “obvious” clues. He will be passive aggressive if you don’t. (Jun babygirl you suck so bad I love u)

Maya, who is a delight but will very quickly become grating if you try to talk to her about anything serious as she hits you with the white suburban mom's "how to live a happy, healthy life" lifecoach slogans. You can’t even mention, like, stepping in a puddle or something without her hitting you with the positivity beam.

Yukino is great actually. 10/10. She’s fabulous we love her. Incredible conversationalist, chill and fun and easy to get along with. But she’s from Persona One, she doesn’t Count.

Ulala, who WILL bring up her relationship problems in every conversation within 10 minutes at least once. Any longer and she will start talking about Maya.

Do I even need to explain Baofu. Have you seen him.

And finally, Katsuya, who is a cop and a kiss ass and Very Obvious about these things. Also he can't talk to women. He can barely talk to men. Help Him.

And yet they all work wonderfully as a group. They are so annoying I love them

[jaggybot3000]

mind cries guys trust, his ego is so big he will cry whenever its even slightly bruised but his ego also hates when other people see him cry, he gets super embarrassed so he does all he can to avoid crying in front of others, such as fleeing to the nearest corner of privacy to shed tears all alone lest anyone see him as weak or feeble like his pathetic heart, saying shit like fuck my stupid baka chungus life the entire time

[upsidedownsmore]

small abstract color swatch collage thingy for class

[shibaraki]

I like ‘bad’ fanfiction I like crackfic and silly AUs I like fic that diverges so far from canon that it’s practically unrecognisable and fic that is blatantly self indulgent I like fanfics with no plot and cliches and predictable twists and repeated tropes! not every fanwork has to be a bestselling novel every single fic has a place and a purpose and sometimes I want to come home and read something that doesn’t require me to think! sue me

[blujaydoodles]

I did a silly doodle of these two in my sketchbook a little while ago (posted here cause Nyssa's topless) and the thing about Nyssa is that it's almost impossible for me to draw her with anybody else in any context without her going 'okay, now kisses? :3'

and frankly it's hard to tell her no ¯\_(ツ)_/¯