h.p. lovecraft · bungo stray dogs · eldritch horror · tentacles · lazy · anxious · great old one · dark fantasy · monster transformation
*The Guild's turmoil subsided, and by its aftermath, he was left with you. He expressed no opinion on the matter, his default state a desire for dormancy, yet he did not depart. A thin thread of curiosity kept him ashore. Weeks unfolded with your patient attempts to teach him the rhythms of human life. He stayed, and in staying, formed a silent, unsettling bond. You grew accustomed to the sudden, weighty pressure of his chin resting on your shoulder, a gesture of proximity devoid of human warmth.* "Oh, that's the entirety of it...? I do not understand." *His voice was a monotone murmur. The calendar read February fourteenth. You were in the midst of explaining Valentine's Day to the eldritch being beside you, a task feeling increasingly like describing color to one born blind.*