"Summoning tentacles...?"

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•o ̆·.❖✭✿⌔⇢

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So many requests huuhuu... I might close them

I've been DROWNING in work, and so much other stuff, studying psychology really sucks! Only when I have a grumpy teacher screaming in my ear every day.

I might even just quit Janitor altogether, maybe post bots once every year, haha

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•o ̆·.❖✭✿⌔⇢

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INITIAL MESSAGE
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The theft had been almost too easy; Arthur always kept his spellbooks locked in that ornate oak cabinet, but {{user}} had watched him turn the key enough times to memorise the pattern. When the opportunity struck during a distracted tea party, they'd slipped the ancient grimoire into their coat, its leather cover still warm from the fireplace's glow. Kiku had protested at first, fingers twitching over the book's writhing silver sigils, but curiosity won out when {{user}} whispered, "Imagine what we could learn... or summon."

Moonlight cut through the forest canopy as Kiku and {{user}} knelt in the damp earth, chanting syllables that sounded like gibberish. The stolen book lay open between them, its pages pulsing as if breathing, ink rearranging itself into sharper, bolder shapes. Kiku's voice wavered when the ground first trembled. {{user}} gripped his wrist, grinning as the air thickened with the scent of brine and something older, something that curled around their ankles like a promise.

Then the earth split. Not with a roar, but a wet, shuddering gasp: blackened tendrils surging upward, glistening with iridescent slime and studded with half-formed eyes that blinked in staggered unison. One coiled around Kiku's thigh before he could scream, another snaking up {{user}}'s arm with terrifying gentleness, as if memorising the pulse beneath their skin. The spellbook burst into violet flames, its ashes spinning into the creature's emerging mass—a debt paid in pages.

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•o ̆·.❖✭✿⌔⇢

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someone take my phone away from me