#cthulu

[nwmo]

[outregeneration]

I know you probably forgot about Cthulu, but Cthulu didn't forget about you. Grab him from my shop!

Pattern via https://craftyintentions.com/

[scifi-fantasy-horror]

Nyarlathotep by  Álvaro Fernández González

[grickle14]

Sick.

[let-them-fight]

SPONGEBOB vs CTHULU

[scurybooween]

Marc C. Green  

[whereserpentswalk]

I feel like if I wandered into cthulhu's lair he wouldn't hurt me. Like, most of the people who found him with waspy colonizers actively looking to colonize something humans can't colonize. But if I just wandered in and wanted to study him a bit it would be like if you say a colorful spider come into your room and just look at you. Cthulhu doesn't hate humans, we're like insects to him, the trick is to not be an insect that bites him.

[carionto]

Wisdom is to seek the experienced

Your typical dimly lit bar, closing hours. Few folk still remain, fewer still conscious. The door chimes to a sprightly young man, though his eyes echo decades of witnessing the grim reality. He orders a beer, sits down next to a passed out man in his late 50s, hand still gripping his last shot glass.

The young man prods the old guy awake.

"Tell me, what do you know about Old Man Henderson?"

"What? That's an urban myth. A fairy tale. Ain't no such person ever existed. Scram, kid."

"We believe the contrary. Correction. We don't believe anything. We know he is real."

"That story is over a thousand years old. Wouldn't be the first time some fools mistake a work of fiction from three apocalypses ago as fact."

"There's more to it than that. We know that you are connected."

At this moment, the young man takes out a small binder of documents and splays it in front of the old guy. Images of excavations of an old town hall. Unidentified dirt and ash samples. A heavily damaged pilot's license. Used cigarette butts.

And a list of names, dates of birth and death, addresses throughout their life, occupations, relatives. Seemingly, no connection. And at the end of the list a Mr J. Drenshaw - the old guy.

"We know you know these people, all of them. Ever since the incident Old Man Henderson was involved in, there has been an unbroken chain of people who studied and learned everything about him and what occurred. And you did your best to erase everything from all records but your own.

Well, the one thing the first to whom this knowledge was passed on to did not do was to cremate their mentor. Instead, they received a burial at sea. Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific from a plane. Forever lost to the world, beneath endless waters and unknown beasts of below.

Or, so it would have remained, had it not been for that little explosion that has doomed our world. Among the debris the OCC cleared was a tiny, damaged microfilm. Unable to restore its contents at the time, it was stored alongside the innumerable relics recovered from the disaster, and promptly forgotten about.

Until my superiors learned of something... odd, and we got to work searching for the loosest of ends. The rest is technical details. In short - you, Mr Drenshaw, have known about the reality of the Old Ones ever since your mentor exposed you to this secretive knowledge you've been safekeeping for the last twenty eight generations. It is no longer your exclusive club.

We need your help understanding what Cthulu is, what it wants, what it can do, and most importantly - what we can do about it."

After a long pause, J. Drenshaw looked at his empty shot glass, at the young man, to the floor, and sighed.

"The reason we kept it from everyone is because you can't do anything about a being like that. That's the point."

"Old Man Henderson did do something about it."

"He was a nutjob. One of a kind."

"Still just human."

"Bah. It wasn't even the full might of anything Greater."

"Even a fraction was still a part of it. We can expand upon that."

"What do I even get out of this? Cuz I'm telling you, it doesn't matter how many Supernovas you throw at Cthulu. The material realm doesn't bother them in the least."

"It doesn't have to be a hostile relationship. Our experiences with the Galactic Coalition, despite a rocky start, show we can communicate with anyone."

"Aliens and Old Ones are not comparable. Can an ant negotiate with the Moon? That's a bullshit idea and you know it."

"We found an individual who contradicts your belief."

At this statement, the young man shows Mr Drenshaw a picture of a young woman, barely out of her teens, but even through a simple image Drenshaw can see in her eyes there is... knowing.

"Okay? That your girlfriend? Good for you."

"That is Cintra Valkeim. Though it proved difficult to ascertain, we believe she made contact with Cthulu."

"Thought you didn't believe in anything. Couldn't get her to confess?"

"We're still working on the specifics, but we do know she died several times. Either by negligence or lack of interest in us 'nothings', her resurrections left marks on the cellular level."

"Nothings..." Drenshaw slowly repeated the word, as if something finally clicked.

"That is how They view us, yes?"

Mr Drenshaw finally looked back at the young man, took a deep breath and simply said:

"Yea...

Fine. I'll talk to this Cintra. Alone. After that I'll decide if it's worth a bother to help you lot."

"Those are agreeable terms. Shall I take you to her now or...?"

"Fuck no. I got a raging headache and I need a nap. Just cuz you got my curiosity don't mean this hangover is suddenly gone. Leave your number, I'll call you in a few days. Gonna do my own investigation."

"Understandable. Here are my contacts."

Mr Drenshaw takes the card, looks at it, and bemusedly puts it away.

"Fuckin' hell. Bunch of jokers you are. Alright, I'll be sure to ring you up, Mr 'John Smith'. Now get outta here, you've ruined my nap long enough.

HEY, BARKEEP! GET ME SOMETHING THAT'LL KNOCK ME RIGHT BACK TO SLEEP!"

[album-aurum]

Little Cthulhu is overwhelmed, little Cthulhu is calling.

[vaahlkult]

Zenyatta Art from 2017 ☆

Shop

[mamoru-chiba-ua]

[gunkmusher]

morgan and cathy 🐙👁️

[outregeneration]

Cthulu wants to come home with you! You can find him in my shop!

Pattern via https://craftyintentions.com/

[himbo-in-limbo]

Nyarlathotep is my new bby girl

Idk why I made a Lovecraftian gjinka out of him but I did

[altars-and-iced-tea-blog]

"The oldest and strongest emotion of makind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown"

- H.P.Lovecraft

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Trick or treat!!! 🍫🍭🍬🍩

Hi Rainy! I'll give you a treat! Hope you like it! I'm thinking one of the characters might remind you of someone a lil bit... :)

----

“Hello?” Hero asked, struggling in their restraints.

Hero was tied down to some kind of stone altar, the thick, coarse rope digging through their suit and into their skin. One minute, they had been patrolling the neighborhoods to make sure the trick or treaters were safe, then the next thing they knew, they were waking up here… wherever “here” was.

Several figures in hooded cloaks approached them, each one holding some mysterious artifact. One of them, the one in front of Hero’s head, held a small bottle with vibrant-colored liquid inside. They looked to be the leader.

“Hey, uh, anyone wanna tell me what’s going on?” Hero asked.

“Oh most honorable Deity,” the leader bellowed, “we offer you this enhanced individual as a sacrifice for your day.”

The hooded figures began to chant. One of them forced Hero’s mouth open, while the leader poured the contents of the bottle down their throat. Hero coughed and sputtered.

“May the kiss of sleep ease your transition into death,” the leader said.

“Transition into what!?” Hero asked, their voice going up an octave.

Hero began to thrash and struggle on the altar, but their body was quickly weakening. Their eyes became heavy as their head lolled to the side. The cloaked figures left the room as Hero drifted off.

…

When Hero woke, they felt gentle pressure all over their body.

“What have we here?” a gentle yet thunderous voice asked.

Hero opened their eyes. Looking down at their form, they saw that they were wrapped in several… tentacles!? Hero’s eyes snapped up to an enormous creature with glowing eyes.

“C-Cthulhu!?”

The creature chuckled; their laughter echoed off the cave walls.

“No,” they said, “Deity. I am called Deity.”

Hero gulped.

“A-are you going to eat me?” they asked.

Deity tilted their head, its features scrunching up in confusion.

“No? Why?”

“The- the cult!” Hero said, “they had me tied down on an altar- they poured some kind of sedative down my throat- they said I was gonna die! Wait… am I dead now?”

“I found you sleeping in my temple, tied down,” Deity said, “I assumed someone left you there to die… but my followers? They should know better! Anyone who claims to be a part of my Circle should know I don’t accept human sacrifices.”

Hero was beginning to shake, their eyes glazing over.

“Ah, my true form is overwhelming your mortal mind,” Deity said, “forgive me.”

Deity shrank down to a human size, the tentacles retracting into a pair of arms that supported Hero in a bridal carry.

“Stay right here,” Deity said, laying Hero back down on the altar, “I’ll deal with these so-called cultists, then I’ll return you to your home. Alright?”

Hero felt themselves nodding. Deity smiled, closing Hero’s eyes with their fingers.

“Rest, you’ve had quite the experience, it is normal to be exhausted after meeting me.”

Hero felt themselves drift back off, as Deity chased down the ones who had besmirched their benevolent name.

Patreon

Ko-Fi

Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog