late-night AU, Lovecraft calls for a special shade of purple prose, disregard this Tio sucks cocks
And he sleeps still: deep in the underground caverns of Malaysia, surrounded by darkness and burned-out lamps, his breath is all that disturbs the close air -- though not enough to stir the leaves of the open books, plays from every era, the last one still lying open and half-read, just as it was when the last flame finally gave out. Here he rests
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;__;
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i wanted to write something in pretentious lovecraft prose.
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i cried okay
NOT LIKE THAT'S NEWS OR ANYTHING
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