Okay, Hear Me Out, Hear Me Out— Johan Liebert As An Avatar Of The End

Murder for Dummies

So me being a Luke Booys enthusiast, decided to look for his works besides The Magnus Archives and found out he's part of the Casual Violence team. He's in a lot of their videos but recently they did this show on YouTube where he plays a character and it was great so I thought I'd share it here. Also just a general recommendation <3

YouTube

Murder for Dummies

A six episode horror-comedy whodunnit, made entirely independently by Casual Violence. Who killed the world's best loved ventriloquist?

oh and people who write fanfics are not "less talented" than people who write original works as their main source of income, by the way. fanfic writers aren't "all children going through a phase". they're writers who put in time, efforts and dedication just like any other writers, the only difference is that, instead of making their writing a career to earn themselves money, they write for free, out of pure passion, because they love the characters they're writing about so much that they're writing novel-length fics about them. you look uneducated af by using "fanfic writer" as an insult to imply fanfic writers aren't as valid or talented as writers who earn money from their works, especially when I've read so many fanfics that are a lot better and more professionally written than some best-selling books out there.

Alright, this is really specific but for quite some time, I've been thinking about what media that I've watched falls under which Magnus entity. I couldn't really categorise anything under The Hunt until I watched the 4th episode of the second season of the anime Mushishi. For context, Mushishi is about these strange creatures that exist alongside all earthly life called Mushi and sometimes when they interact with humans, it causes some weird things to happen. To solve Mushi-related problems, there are some people who specialise in dealing with them (kind of like doctors and scientists) called Mushishi. The protagonist is a Mushishi named Ginko.

Now, the synopsis of the episode that I'm talking about (titled 'The Hand That Caresses The Night') is this:

A young man has the power to lure animals to him using a scent issuing from his hand. He inherited this power from his father, and it makes hunting easier. But it makes the meat from his prey taste foul. More serious is the risk of losing his mind to the power and confusing family with prey. There's a cure, but will the boy be willing to give up his power?

That's the plot but it really doesn't tell you about the atmosphere of this entire episode. It starts with Ginko entering this mountain forest in the evening or night and almost getting hunted by this dude. The animation, the lighting, the music, it all builds this eerie, unsettling vibe which isn't uncommon for Mushishi, but it feels different in this episode. Like, there's always this bittersweet aspect to all episodes but this one is just so... Different. There's this whole thing about the hunter also being a part of the mountain and the reversal of roles (hunter turned hunted) but all in all, it really captures the feeling of The Hunt well.

I could go on but I think you need to watch it to truly understand what I'm talking about. I'm pretty sure there are plenty of other movies or shows that capture The Hunt but since I adore Mushishi, it came as a pleasant surprise that there was such an episode. You should go watch it! And while you're at it, just watch the whole show-

Psst, here's the link: https://hianime.to/watch/mushishi-the-next-chapter-38?ep=1123&ep=1123

Also, if you watch it, you are obligated to listen to the opening and ending. No watcher of Mushishi skips that. Ever.

this is fuggler#1 the fuggler. he is a fuggler

WHAT IS A FUGGLER

It's the Legendary Milkman!!!

I got curious and looked up the game because of him. Ran into him on my third run. Turned out to be a doppelganger though :(

Starting my 20th year with Ibuprofen

Update: I got a mouse and the bitch works again -_-

Laptops are always so much more Fucked than phones in my experience. A laptop is like a beautiful horse that wants nothing more than to break all of its legs. A decently solid android phone will act normal

Words Unspoken - gerard keay

Gerry isn't used to the Archives being quiet. Good thing he's got you, then.

masterlist

a/n: back from hiatus w a podcast fanfic out of nowhere. yippee enjoy

Gerard isn’t used to quiet.

He doesn’t usually get a lot of it. Not since he started working at the Institute. Certainly not since his mother started plaguing him, even before the books took her skin and soul. He’s been a Keay for longer than he’s been conscious. He doesn’t think he’s truly been at peace since he first opened his eyes.

He takes what he can, of course, bits and pieces in between the forays out into the world to find the books, the fucking Leitners, and burn them. He’s always been calmest when he can watch the pages turn into ash, crumbling away on the wind. The words inked within are twisted, vile things, bringing only ruin to those unfortunate enough to read them, but Gerard almost feels jealous when he watches them go up in smoke. It would feel extraordinary to be light enough to coast away in open air, he thinks. The weight would be nothing then. Certainly not enough to crush him whole like it does every other day.

He hasn’t burned a book in a month, maybe that’s why he feels so uneasy. He runs his fingers over the holes in his ripped jeans for the nth time that day, dark fingernails accelerating the ruin of the threadbare hems. The eye tattoos on his knuckles appear and disappear as he bends his fingers, as if they’re blinking over and over again. Sometimes, Gerard tells himself this ill-gotten stalemate in between terrors is the reason he stays here, in the Magnus Institute, in this world of fears and statements and book-burning. He can barely handle quiet when he gets a few days of it. He’d probably go mad if peace and calm became his whole life.

The door swings open behind him, and Gerard has to fight not to flinch. He’s not quite sure he manages it. In between reminding himself how to breathe, Gerard has enough time to notice the identity of his visitor. His shoulders drop a little in relief when he recognizes the even footfalls of Y/N L/N, Gertrude’s latest hire. Y/N’s another archival assistant, primarily engaged in researching statement givers. Their paths don’t always cross, but when they do, Gerard finds himself happy for it. Y/N– Gerard can’t describe it, really, what they do to him. They make him feel normal, almost. Almost, until he remembers the eldritch all-seeing overlord they serve, or the myriad disasters they catalog every day, or any other detail of their insane lives.

Y/N smiles at him, taking a seat on a nearby chair. They’re holding two mugs of tea, one of which is slid across the table to a grateful Gerard, and a few file folders full of various notes.

“How’re you?” Y/N asks pleasantly. Most find the labyrinthine underbelly of the Archives too cold and austere for words, but it never seemed to bother Y/N. The Institute, much like everything else, just seems to make them that much better and brighter in Gerard’s eyes.

Gerard takes a sip of tea to avoid answering. “I’m alright,” he murmurs at last. “A little restless, but that’s nothing new.”

Y/N hums in agreement. Not for the first time, Gerard finds himself wondering why on earth someone like them would end up somewhere like here. He could find out, if he really wanted to, could look past the pretty face and encouraging smile to read the truth like another printed line from a cursed book, but for once, he doesn’t give in to the urge. He’d rather have Y/N tell him. He’d rather be the willing keeper of their secrets, not the thief.

Y/N catches his musing stare and Gerard coughs, embarrassed to be caught, and points his chin towards the stack of file folders in their hand. “What’ve you got there? More statements?”

Y/N nods. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about them. There’s somebody, a banker out near Bradford, who’s been having weird encounters with one of his neighbours. I don’t think the banker has read a Leitner directly, but I wanted to see if you thought his neighbour might be a victim of a book. He’s been describing weird, erratic behavior, odd patterns–”

Y/N flips open one of the manilla folders and slides it across the table. Gerard leans over to take a look, his tattooed fingers tracing the lines where they point. For a few carefully held breaths, their two hands brush, and Gerard has to fight the urge to wrap his fingers around theirs and never let go. It’s a right pain to make himself focus on the statement again, especially when there’s someone vastly more interesting right next to him, but Y/N is diligently focused and so Gerard reluctantly follows suit, peering at the description of the banker’s worries.

He tilts his head to the side, considering the statement. “Yeah, might be. He says his neighbour was doing, like, weird rituals, right? Could be the People’s Church of the Divine Host, but given how closely it all seems to relate to, uh, meat, it’s probably Flesh-adjacent.”

Y/N snorts. “Flesh-adjacent?”

Gerard rolls his eyes. “Fine, you come up with a better way to say he’s been reanimating random corpses or bits of corpses without seeming silly. I’m just trying to help.”

He’s grinning, though, and Y/N laughs too. He likes it when they laugh. It makes him feel better about himself. Can’t be that fucked up as a person if you can make someone like that smile.

“Alright,” they say, still humored, “Flesh-adjacent it is. So you’re thinking all this stuff was started by a book?”

Gerard lifts a shoulder. “Might be. The neighbour guy’s probably learning some spells from a Leitner, thinking he’s the next big thing in witchcraft, when in reality the book is just draining his measly little soul to do it. I’ll go take a look around in a few days, see if I can track down the thing.”

Y/N’s face falls. “No, I can’t ask you to do that. It might be dangerous!”

“No, it’s quite alright,” Gerard says. “Like I said, I’ve been getting restless. It’ll be good for me to get out and do something.”

Y/N arches a dubious brow. “It’ll be good for you to track down someone reanimating corpses using evil spells from a murderous book?”

“Are you worried about me? That’s sweet of you,” Gerard teases, noting with a thrill of delight up his spine how Y/N’s face heats up when he leans ever closer to them. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Plus, I’ll run it by Gertrude first. Downright cautious. How’s that sound to you?”

Y/N flips closed the file folder, smoothing down any errant paper corners with a deliberate movement of their hand. “I guess. I just didn’t want you to think that I only came down here to send you on another death mission.”

“Of course not, I know you love my company,” Gerard grins.

“I do,” Y/N insists, their eyes rising to insistently meet Gerard’s gaze, like it was incredibly important that he know how they felt. Like it might even matter as much to Y/N as it does to Gerard. Like for once, they feel the exact same way, and it’s– it’s–

Up one floor, a door closes a little too loudly, the reverberation of the slam echoing down to them. Y/N flinches away, and just like that, they’ve both lost their nerve. Y/N stands up quickly, gathering up the folders again and their tea. “I’ll see you around, then,” they whisper, and head out, stealing one last glance at Gerard when they think he doesn’t notice.

He does notice, though, and he does notice the plaintive sigh they let out once the door closes behind them. It’s alright. He’s got plenty more chances to say what they both want to hear.

all tags list: @wordsarelife, @supervoldejaygent

🧐

Lost At Sea

Here I lie, lost at sea,

dazed and lame as I can be.

The sky above is dark

as is the water below me.

How I got here, I scarcely remember—

when I boarded, when I left the pier.

The time as well, I could not decipher—

September, October, or November.

Alone in this vastness,

silence embraces me—

the great stretch of the universe and the sea

do all but eclipse me.

At times I start to wonder

what if instead of wander,

I let the waves take me—

pull me in and consume me.

I close my eyes and picture

my delicate arms and legs,

spread restful as they please,

sink into the cold water.

Visions of the starry sky peek through,

strings of faint light probing in the blue.

The stars shimmer above the mirrory surface,

far and out of reach, they peer with indifference.

But then I pull myself out

of my ruminative bout;

the spirit of life taking reins

to brave my impermanent pains.

My boat is a drifting speck,

a mote between infinite black;

so here I lie, lost at sea,

alone and numbed as I can be.

______________________________________________________________

Inspired by and written for the prompt "Cold water". Prompt credit to @the-kingofdoritos