which-entity-this-post-serves

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

hello I’ve just had a horrible nightmare in which everybody at my school went to a dance (I think the prom venue got hijacked?)  but when they had came out they were all mush and i couldn’t separate one from the other. They were congealed but they were alive and they were screaming without mouths. The piles of what used to be people were rotting. I don't recall the smell, but i do recall how it looked. The spots of mold, the worms, the way parts of it would get holes where one of its many liquefied hearts had ceased to beat. I got myself to outside the venue to stare through the windows to find someone that wasn't yet beyond saving. This one kid I’m vaguely friends with (he/she/they) was still themself, and I frantically texted her to try to guide him away from the pulsating nightmare of faces and facelessness, each beyond saving. I perched in front of the window, guiding them as they tried to keep their mind and all I could say was to stay angry, stay indignant and resist. But she couldn't. Couldn't blame they, really, but oh god i'll be damned if i just let that happen. So i opened the door. The music rang through my skull and out my eyes until my vision blurred and my stomach clawed its way through its chest as a decaying mass of hands twirled me away from fresh air. then i woke up, thank god. any idea what this is? flesh or the stranger, i guess, but also the corruption, not sure. thanks!

This dream serves the Corruption, also called the Crawling Rot.

You watch from a safe distance as the pulsating mass of sickness engulfs the dance floor. The contagion has done something that no other force could do; It has brought your peers together to form one force. This hive-minded disease confuses their senses, drawing them in, making them blind to the wretchedness they are becoming, and using them to pull others into itself. You were lucky enough to be immune, until the disease wound its way into your friend's head.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

I need a guide to follow the desolation please and thank you

This is definitely not for an oc and definitely not for character lore

I definitely just really am curious about the desolation..........

This ask serves The Beholding, the Ceaseless Watcher, the awful and terrible Eye that sees all and It Knows You. Your curiosity pleases it, regardless of why you have asked.

The Desolation is, unsurprisingly, a difficult domain to fall under; It requires personal pain and loss, and your enjoyment of it. Burning is not all that it encompasses, but also mind-melting agony. To join the flames, you must allow yourself to burn away. It is the delicate line between careless sadism and sacrificial masochism. Falling too far to either side of the line would still be your worship of The Lightless Flame, but would put you in the domain of The Hunt, either as a hunter or prey.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

Hello, I have a question, I have recurring dreams of climbing up a spiral staircase in black and white but if I ever fall off at any point, the walls turn disorienting colors as I fall untill I stop screaming after a minute of no screaming I wake up. I was told you could explainwhat this is. Thanks.

This dream serves the Spiral.

Over and over and over again, you climb. Do you know what you are climbing for? How long have you been climbing? What are you trying to reach? How many times have your footsteps met the empty air, instead of the solid ground you were expecting?

You scream as you topple. You scream every time as the walls bleed down towards you, their colours grasping at you as if they could help you back up. They do not laugh, because they are just walls. Your screaming stops when the vertigo feeling in your stomach becomes more of a custom than a shock. Your eyes open, and it's over. But is it, really? You're awake now, and you still feel the urge to climb. What are you climbing for? Maybe here, the steps you take won't fall away anymore. Keep climbing.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

There's something wrong with your body. You feel the wrongness right above the top of your skull, jutting out of your forehead, but every time you reach, you find that the wrongness is that there is nothing there.

There should be. You feel it in your bones, in your very Flesh. You would break the wrongness off with your very hands, if you could touch, but you know the wrongness will grow back. Maybe this time, they'll actually jut out from your forehead. Maybe, this time, everyone else will see them. If only you could grab them, and help them take their true form.

What entity is associated with having an incredible urge to shed your antlers (I lack antlers)

Probably the Flesh? Your body doesn’t fit with what you think it should be.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves the Slaughter.

Et tu, Bruté?

ITS MARCH YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Spiral.

How did we even get here?

If you're ever feeling embarrassed about feelings, remember that i, girl-detector, have at least two times recorded where i was a sopping wet creature about it

If i said [REDACTED] right away, things would be very different now, to a point where someone else may have started girl-detector instead of me

Girls are pretty, keep that in mind 👍

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves the Flesh, also known as Viscera.

It was vegan. You know it was vegan, that it came entirely from plants. Gluten, a protein, taken from flour, taken from wheat, sprouted from the ground.

Vegan "meat".

You knew where it came from. You know the second, third, fourth, however many pieces that you broke it into in order to fit it down your gullet- You know those heartbeats aren't yours.

Finally, a vegan alternative to human heart! Douse in ketchup and eat with your hands.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Stranger.

You thought you knew who she was. You thought you knew about her, her career, her many roles she played. Then, she began to change. First, it was her hair.

"That's fine," You told yourself, "People change their hair all the time. She would look just as beautiful with any colour."

Then, her skin tone had changed. Tanner. Lighter. Darker. You wrinkled your nose at this, but how were you to know it was only the beginning?

You look at her now, so far removed from the round-faced child she had once been. Her eyes are thin, now, and her face far too sharp, the skin pulled back by a ponytail far too tight to be real.

"The voice of an angel," You had once heard someone say. "The voice of a witch."

Where is she? Surely, that sweet baby-faced actress is still in there, somewhere. Perhaps all there is to do is take down her hair and peel away the waxed leather that we all mistake for her skin.

something deeply uncanny about ariana grande. she has the eyes of a taxidermied snake. she looks like a wax model of herself

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

heya!

making a biblically accurate-coded tma oc.

vast or spiral? if possible, both?

please help, my lovely eye friend.

many thanks!

If by biblically accurate, you mean as inhuman as possible, the Spiral holds the most potential. I would like to See the results of your creation.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

Does it matter if nothing is real?

Is it reality that gives things meaning?

Or is it enough to have simply experienced it?

What you See is your reality. To experience it is to experience meaning itself. Reality is frail, as each moment is born and dies and is reborn in quick succession.

Even if it isn't real- That is to say, even if you are the only one who experiences it, it still matters. It will still affect you. Do not trivialize it.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

i would appreciate a guide in how to escape the lonely.

i know it has a grasp on me.

i can't tell if it wants me to serve it or if it wants to feed off of me, but i don't want either.

please help me.

i miss my partner.

The Lonely is particularly difficult to escape, isn't it? Ironically enough, it is the entity that will hold you closer and closer, as if it fears its very self. Do not pity it.

Nor should you pity yourself. Do not isolate yourself. Do not surround yourself with others, either, lest you find yourself alone in a room full of faceless people and wordless chatter.

Talk to your partner, if you can. Keep your closest friend in the forefront of your mind.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

ABSOLUTE RADIANCE (cue boss fight music)

The music swells as you push past those who have already found their seats. The thick, oily smell of stale popcorn ground into sawdust by many a muddy boot reaches your nose as the spotlights swirl around the tent.

Before you are able to sit, the lights land on you. You can't even make out the words of the ringmaster through the many cheers, the sound of thousands of voices piercing your eardrums, drowning out your protests while performers drag you down from the bleachers and out to the back tents.

A tall, thin man watches from behind you in the mirror while his performers get to work. He merely smiles at you, the sharp amber hazel of his eyes flashing from the shadows where he stands, letting your questions go unanswered. As you return his stare, you try to figure out what's wrong with it, but your gaze breaks when the performers fit you with a mask.

His hand is on your shoulder, all bones and sinew and sharp nails, and he drags you back to the Big Top. You try to see his face, but...his eyes. There's something wrong with them. He blinks, and his grin spreads, splitting the skin of his cheeks bloodlessly. He blinks again, and you realise what's wrong with his eyes, but it's too late to scream. You're on the stage now, fumbling your hands around the bowling pins you had been given to juggle as everyone watches.

It can't have been real, right? A trick of the light, perhaps? Eyes can't possibly open that way. Eyelids are horizontal, not...

You look up as you start to juggle, and you fall to your knees. In the center of the big top, where the crest of the tent should have been, an eye the size of a steamroller's front wheel stares back at you. You can see your painted mask in the reflection on its pupil, another clown in the circus, being watched with rapt attention.

You continue staring, because you Know that if it blinks.... Well. Without an audience, there is no performer.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

aww, thank youue..

we aprove! 🪱🪱🪱🪱🫀🫀🫀🫶🫶😁

of you. that is

cwrrycon, strange eye creature!

-🪱

👁️👁️

I'll see you again, I'm sure. May you find many a dark, wet, warm crevice to flourish in.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

pipe bomb

What a curious delivery.

A simple creation, meant only for destruction, but clearly made with care. A short section of a hollow steel rod, packed with gunpowder and a fuse, then welded shut on either end.

I will take great care of this gift, and use it as it was intended. I believe the Desolation would like me to return fire, as it were, and you have given me the means to do so. They will erupt, as they are apt to do, and I shall record the flames.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

I greatly admire your work. I take great interest in your categorizations and your anecdotes, o great and gazing Judge.

You would do well in an Archive. Keep reading. Never stop watching. Record everything.

Watch.

Know.

Behold.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

tips for how to join the Vast? it calls to me every day and has slowly seeped into my Thoughts over the years

I need to Enjoy Sky Blue

I need the Deep to Care for my Bones

please

help

-🌊🪂

The Falling Titan reaches its hands towards you; you mistake the shadow it casts for the night, though you've never seen a night with quite so few stars. Reach up- its embrace will crush you. Sail towards it- it will dive in with you, and the waves it creates will drown you, but do not be alarmed. This will not draw you into Forever Deep Below Creation.

Gaze up.

Gaze down.

The direction will not matter.

All you will see is blue infinity.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

wgwhw...

what are your..?

you sre a strnage one; yknow..

hmmm...

-🪱

Greetings, creature of the Crawling Rot, and well-met.