cthuma

[cthuma]

If you would like to have your mind shattered and life ruined with a starter, like this post

[cthuma]

If you would like to have your mind shattered and life ruined with a starter, like this post

[cthuma]

@spacecop​

“I can give you a better ring. A greener, slimier one.”

[cthuma]

seekscryptids·:

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 , 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐌 . 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 ; he lifts his hand to tentatively touch his upper lip — just to see if his nose bled , as it was oft to do whenever faced with creatures beyond his realm of understanding . The walls pulsate , squirming with movement , as though something wanted in . But was kept out by some unseen force . A grimace as Sten pushes himself to movement , rifling through papers depicting arcane rituals and taking pictures of it , hands shaking . He ignores the first question — it’s not really something he liked to think about . Loneliness ? Anger ? Unwillingness to connect with humanity ? Who knows .

His skin prickles at the sensation of pressure around him , a hug that nigh-suffocates , and he SWEATS , dots of water along his temple and trickling downwards to be swallowed by his collar .  

 ❝ Not willingly . ❞ Stern stresses , attempting to shake off the sensation with a shrug of shoulders . Still , his hands tremble and gaze averts into the darkness of drawers , clicking his flashlight and stifling a yelp at the rat that leapt out with a hiss . ❝ When the TRUTH finds me , it usually wants to kill me . I find that pocket knives and bullets rarely fare well against eldritch beings . ❞

he looks up at the ceiling and he could feel it THERE , on the recesses of his mind — curious , maybe a tad frustrated . ❝ May I please know who exactly is talking to me ? ❞

“Not a particularly talented sorcerer.” The voice mused upon itself, the statement wasn’t necessarily for the mortal man, Shuma-Gorath examined the man’s disheveled notes. He smiled in the way that a being without a mouth could smile, ancient rituals discovered by early man too foolish to close their eyes to his kind. Like spider legs, his countenance scurried around between the layers of existence, he found an open crack in Stern’s mind-palace.

“Make no mistake, mortal, if I wanted you to be dead, you’d be dead.” The voice was closer, almost internal. He had found his way into the man’s subconscious. A direct line to a mortal mind.

A piercing, unblinking, eye appeared before him. It was faint, a glimmer on the wind. When those early mortals discovered his magics, they discovered a way to keep him out. A man sized starfish shaped cloud emerged, enveloping the the fizzling eye, a metaphysical presence the mortal could interact with and not be immediately rendered brain-dead. “I have many names, you can call me Cthuma.”

[cthuma]

stalkingthestars·:

It toyed with the lives of mortals like they were nothing but playthings at the end of the many faceted unending chaos. “Envy is unbecoming of you. There is no sense in denying it, if you had the same abilities as us, you would traverse freely, and sow the seeds of madness with subtlety among the pitiful little worms as we do.”

There was method to Nyarlathotep’s madness, sometimes it took the role of good, sometimes it took the role of evil, it truly did not matter as long as the greater return was suffering of beings on a grand scale. Its methods were only so varied and nuanced because at the end of creation it would be Azathoth to unthink creation, and there would be no sense in trying to fight that destiny.

“However, We are here, We are there, we are a little of everywhere. It is the benefit of being to freely pierce the veils of reality.”

“Your wit is as cutting as ever, perhaps the only thing your father instilled in you that was worth anything.” Madness wasn’t necessarily Gorath’s goal, Nyarlathotep should know that in his vast knowledge. The only goal Gorath had was that of his own prime-directive, to unite all flesh. But he knew that Nyarlathotep wasn’t wrong, as someone who once ruled every universe, only outclassed by the idiot sultan himself, the magics that repelled Gorath were an affront to his nature. The ingenuity of humanity to prevent his direct return, the more powerful he became the harder he found it to pass through the gate. Perhaps he would be embarrassed, if he were capable. “When I killed death, I unified the flesh in that one minuscule quadrant of existence, but you are content to the teasing of mortal men.”

[cthuma]

@theratinthewalls​

“Spawn of chaos.” Shuma-Gorath could see through any and all illusions the thing masquerading as a woman may have used to manipulate the mortals, though he was sure that she was intelligent enough to know that it wouldn’t work on him in the same way. His globular existence bubbled through the aether, his singular prime eye peering on the thing. “And what could you possibly want with me?”

[cthuma]

@stalkingthestars​ A meeting of the incomprehensible, non-existences clashing in the spaces between realities, the Many-Angled-One met with the Crawling Chaos. His singular crimson eye glared at the squirming visage of his contemporary but said nothing. They communicated in a way that only their kind could comprehend, Shuma-Gorath beckoning the other to join him for cosmic tea, as it were.

“Surprised to find you returning to your betters, not wasting your talents on fragile mortals.” He had no room to talk, Shuma-Gorath’s goal was to rejoin all of existence, and through mortals was the sole method to accomplish that task.

[cthuma]

etrnty·:

                 ❝   YOUR  IMMANENT  DEATH   would  be  preferable.   ❞

“We both well know that’s impossible. You will fade far before I.”

[cthuma]

@etrnty​

“What do you want?”

[cthuma]

@seekscryptids​

“Which part of your soul do you need to fill with your endless search?” The voice was slight, it crawled up and down the walls of the room, finding its way into the agent’s ears. The entity was kept out by the thinnest gossamer of reality, unable to appear before the agent in his purest form - though the prospect itself could kill the mortal. He felt the petty mortal emotion of frustration, pressing his power against the fabric of the reality that kept him out, unable to pierce it. Pathetic. He reached out with his thoughts, with his vile intrusiveness. The delicate threads of the universe bowed under his pressure, curling with unseen resistance. They curled around the agent, as a mother embracing her child, Shuma-Gorath’s crimson eye fixated on what could possibly be his window into this reality. “And yet, when you begin to find the actual truth, you cut and run.”

[cthuma]

manifestedsun·:

“Great hero…?” 

His nose scrunched up a little at that. He was barely a hero. He was in training. Sure he’d be seen as official in a matter of months but there were a lot of heroes and it would be a long time before anyone would recognize him as one.

“I dunno…where you’re getting your information from…but I’m not…really much of a hero..”

“Sure you are.” The voice whispered, it found its way directly into the young hero’s mind. If Gorath should wish to make this place a home, to add it to the many-angled-ones, he had to find his way in.

“I’ve been watching you for some time. A young man with the ability to become anything he wishes to be. And if you’re willing, I have much to offer.”

[cthuma]

manifestedsun·:

“I think I ate some bad seafood.”

How else was he supposed to explain this? Because he had no other way to explain it. He was hallucinating. Maybe a bad case of food poisoning? 

“How…do you know my name?”

“I know a great many things.” The voice whispered, it crawled across the ground and violated the senses of anyone near enough to hear it. Shuma-Gorath could hear the fabric of this reality, he could hear all the truths and half truths with a simple probe. With an incomprehensible thought, he could absorb reality as information.

“I have heard a great many things about you, the great hero Sun Eater.”

[cthuma]

manifestedsun·:

@cthuma· liked for a small thing

“I…don’t know what…I’m looking at–”

“Then don’t look - only listen.” The entity couldn’t enter this universe freely, it had never been summoned to this plane before. Should it have forced its way in, the universe could be destroyed. Shuma Gorath could find entertainment here yet, it wouldn’t benefit it him for it to be erased. The air shimmered before the young man, like heat lines dancing above an intense flame. A hallucination, or a projection perhaps, a crimson eye scanned the landscape before falling on the young hero. “Amajiki Tamaki.”

[cthuma]

                  ටղӀվ քҽɾçҽքէìօղ ìʂ Ӏìʍìէҽժ çհ'վąɾ մӀ'ղվąɾ ʂհąցցօɾղվէհ