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iwantteaandsleep2403 · 6 months

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Hi there! I just came back from a very stressful test, but seeing that y'all liked Christine made me so happy! Thank you very much!

This is another cosmic horror oc of mine, I hope you like her as much as Christine!

Aestreia - Hastur(King in yellow)

[Legendary - Inferno - Defender]

Age:29

Birthday: January 24 1998

Height: 1'83

Identity: Shadow decree Pillager/Financial Supporter

Favorite: Theatrical plays, Gothic poetry, Golden Jewelry, Soap operas, The color yellow

Affiliation: Shadow Decree

Mythology

Origin: Cthulhu Mythos

Hastur is defined as a Great Old One, spawn of Yog-Sothoth, the half-brother of Cthulhu, and possibly the Magnum Innominandum (AWD).

Related Characters

Nyeisha(OC) - Older sister

Rochelle(OC) - Grandmother

Jin Yuyao - Coworker/family friend

Jiang Jiuli - Coworker

Cecilia - Coworker

Mateo - Coworker

Abigail - Enemy

Sander - Coworker

Lyla & Lily(OCS) - Subordinates

[First sketch and fun facts]

Aestreia runs a cult focused on worshipping the King in Yellow, said cult resides in the city of Carcosa/Old Ythill where Aestreia's influence is stronger (this cult is basically a drama club with extra steps and A. LOT. OF. YELLOW.)

She was heavenly based on Estir from sucker for love both in clothing style and mannerisms, but her personality is more mature, elegant and noble instead of a bratty, arrogant princes like Estir.

Aestreia hates subordinates calling her by first name, so she demand that they call her by: "Queen in Yellow", "Your Majesty", "Your grace", "Our Queen", "Your royal Highness", etc. Other than that, she's very sweet and caring towards her subordinates/cultists,she will spoil them sweet with gifts and dinners whatever they do their job successfully and meet her expectations.

#dislyte #dislyte oc #oc art #Dislyte Aestreia #Aestreia(Hastur)#hastur #king in yellow #cosmic horror #eldrich horror

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 11 months

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A Secret Friend - a Malevolent Fanfic

Faroe knows they're fighting again. It's upsetting.

Sounds like the perfect time for her new secret friend to make himself known.

(Takes place in the Surrogate universe, after Once Upon a Dream.)

AO3

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Kayne is only a little bored. It’s not dangerous yet.

Not really.

The metaphysical equivalent of floating around the party room, providing hors d'oeuvres to beings his level and somewhat greater, is entertaining enough—handing over tiny planets he's corrupted, or entire species he’s driven insane. Occasionally producing weird treasure thought up by some mortal and stolen.

But really, all of that is the prelude.

He’s got them all watching his favorite show now, which is deeply gratifying. The only challenge is keeping them watching and not interfering.

All I’m saying, spurts Abhoth, spraying ankle-height abominations with every syllable, is she might be more interesting with some cancerous growths.

“No,” Kayne says, far more patiently than he feels. “That would just ratchet everything up the wrong way, and it would make Arthur, John, and Hastur work together. See? We don’t want that. That’s dull.”

Oh, says Abhoth, who wouldn’t have thought of that.

“Subtlety of a mack truck!” Kayne chirps and moves on.

Ghroth is no fucking better. Imagine the carnage if I caused the Dreamlands to erupt.

“To erupt into what, oh Maker of the Doom of Worlds?” says Kayne, who does know how to play the game.

Ghroth considers. It takes him a while. Volcanoes, he suggests.

“Naw.” Kayne pats Ghroth's enormous eyeball self and moves on.

Down below, John and Hastur have gotten into a screaming fight while Arthur rocks, holding his head in his hands; which is dull, until Hastur’s internal alarms go off and they know Faroe is on her way in with a basket of flowers and her horrible goat-god in tow.

And it is amusing to watch them all scramble, to do the equivalent of smoothing hair back and straightening ties, and when Faroe is older, she’ll know immediately that things were hardly as peaceful as projected.

She’s not quite there yet, so she smiles, tells them a nonsense-story she made up as she hands out flowers, and skips to her room.

Everyone is sullen in her wake.

Curious, says the Nameless Mist, one of Kayne’s siblings and one of the only beings he bothers actually respecting. What do you intend to do?

“Beyond ensuring these chuckle-nuts don’t get involved? Well. I have a twist for the evening,” says Kayne, for once not sarcastic. “Call it a mid-season surprise. A guest star.”

Oh? says the Magnum Innominandum. Who would that be?

“You’re about to find out,” says Kayne. “After the ad-break.”

Faroe likes shallow baths.

She does not like deep ones. She learned to swim under grave duress at her daddy's insistence (one of the few times her tears and wails did not move him). She’s a very strong swimmer, thanks to him, but it scares her badly. She doesn’t understand why.

Shallow baths are fine. She can wash, and use her cloth, and get her hair clean under running water (but never putting her face under), and she can clean Nibbles, and focusing on her friends’ weird hooves always helps. Not that Nibbles ever seems to need a bath, but that's not the point. Bath before bed. That is the rule.

Faroe thinks water is alive. It feels bad to her.

She tried to explain that to daddy, but he couldn’t quite get what she was saying. Water is not alive, he said, trying to explain chemicoles to her, and how it wasn’t living and so could not be bad.

But it was bad. She knew it was bad.

Uncle Arthur understood, though. Somehow, he did—and like he did with everything that scared her, he turned to music for a solution.

One night, after she sniffled because she’d had to have a real bath (she’d fallen into some mud and it had gotten under her nails and in her hair and it wasn’t her fault), he played something beautiful, and it… helped.

He said it was called Claire de Lune, and was about moonlight, but he always felt it was more like moonlight on water.

He played, and he told her to think about moonlight dancing on black waves, and how it could be beautiful, and how she didn’t have to go into it, but that it wasn’t always bad.

Something happened whenever Uncle Arthur played the piano.

Passing deities stilled. Monsters calmed in the walls. Sentient plants peeked over the balconies to listen.

Even the shriek-birds (which she did not like) went quiet.

And this piece… this moon piece… she liked it very much. Even if it was one of the ones that made him cry.

He cried a lot.

She hadn’t noticed it when she was little. She does now. She’s not sure what it means; he seems to just… do it all the time.

It feels bad. She doesn’t know why.

“This is concerning,” she says, because that’s how daddy talks about his people when things aren’t right. “I don’t think he should cry so much, do you?”

Nibbles bleats.

“Yeah,” she says, deciding the goat means ‘of course, you are correct,’ and gets out of her very shallow bath.

She’s big now, and can get into bed on her own.

She settles in under her sparkling white canopy, looks out her window at the velvet-blue sky and enormous moon, and sighs.

She’s in bed, She’s being good. But she’s not sleepy.

She can hear them yelling out there.

Faroe is young, but not stupid. She knows they think she doesn’t know they always argue.

“I don’t like it when they fight,” she tells Nibbles, sniffling a little.

Nibbles bleats.

I agree, Faruffin. It’s downright rude, isn’t it?

“Hello?” Faroe says, sitting up. “Mister?”

Nibbles makes a questioning sound.

Shh. She can’t hear me, little princess. Only you can. I’m your secretest friend.

“Secretest?”

Nibbles bleats again, slightly more concerned.

You can just think, sweetheart. I'll hear you.

Oh, she thinks, and lies back down.

I’m your secret friend! Everybody gets one when they’re almost four years old.

Oh! Well, that makes sense. Oh, okay. Hi, secret friend.

Hi, Faruffin!

The name triggers a memory, though she can’t quite place it. A weird day, she remembers that—but the nickname only brings good feelings. Safe feelings. Funny ones, amusing. Did we meet before?

We sure did! We made friends before, on the day you met Uncle Arthur. Remember what a mess he was? Oooh! Poor guy. He just can’t stop crying, can he? Pretty sad, if you ask me.

She ponders this.

She has no idea what to do with this information. But you’re not secret. Everybody saw you.

Oh, no, sweet thing, they didn’t. They were talking to each other.

Her brow knits. That’s not… quite what she remembers, but then, it is fairly vague. It was a weird day, tiring, and she isn’t quite sure.

Besides, it’s a grown-up voice. She remembers he was nice. Okay.

You can call me Brother Kayne, okay? But here’s the thing—you have to keep me a secret. Every time you tell someone about me, I get pushed further away! Eventually? I could shout at the top of my lungs, and you wouldn’t hear me ever again.

Well, that sounds terrible. Faroe wipes at her eyes. There is some reason that… someone going away forever is bad.

She can’t really put it together. Okay.

Our secret?

Our secret, Brother Kayne.

The voice laughs. No, that’s… yeah, I can’t do that. Just Kayne, okay?

Okay. Grownups are strange.

Wanna learn a trick?

Yes!

And Kayne teaches her a simple incantation.

She speaks it aloud—opening herself to magic the way her daddy’s been teaching her—and magic immediately happens.

The canopy overhead fills with stars.

She gasps.

The canopy is white, diaphanous, lovely; it shifts in the breeze from her window, and now, stars float through it, a lazy and lovely rotation, and she made it happen all by herself.

Nibbles bleats, then calms down. Maybe she likes stars, too.

Wow!

What do we say, Faruffin?

She remembers that name, now. It’s a good name, a silly one. She liked him when they met. Thank you!

Good girl. Now, go to sleep—you have a lot of growing to do.

Faroe watches the stars, tracing them, counting, until she finally falls asleep.

Kayne bows to his audience. “Will this come up again? Will it matter? Am I a Chekhov’s gun? Stay tuned!”

I don’t get get it, Ghroth says.

“Philistine,” Kayne says almost fondly, and pats the enormous world-ending eyeball. “Go on, now. Off you go!”

Would Faroe keep the secret? He didn’t know. If she didn’t, he’d disappear. If she did… well.

There were a lot of things he could teach a boring little girl on her way to becoming interesting—things that could actually make her worth a spin-off, once this all went to hell.

“It’s all about planting seeds,” he says.

Hypnos twitches, and might or might not have comprehended what Kayne said. But probably not.

“A smart little Sheila told me that some plants need to be babied. Have to say, I agree.”

Hypnos looks blank.

Kayne sighs. “Always boring when they’re broken.” And he wanders away. There are plants to tend, after all, and victims to visit.

And safe in Hastur’s castle, Faroe sleeps through further shouts about marks and ceremonies and owning, and dreams about singing stars.

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NOTES:

That note about plants being babied will come up again, we promise. Muahaha.

#malevolent #malevolent fic #malevolent fanfic #kayne malevolent #faroe lester #nibbles lester #cthulhu mythos #malevolent pod #surrogate series

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cannibalcaprine · 2 years

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something that's always screwed with me is that Nyarlathotep, one of the objectively most Azathoth-like outer gods apart from Magnum Innominandum and Magnum Tenebrosum

and he's goddamn INFATUATED with humans

with the constantly comatose Azathoth and the fourth-dimensional Yog-Sothoth, he probably constantly emits radiation, and he loves to just fuck with us!

the hell's your problem, man

#cthulhu mythos

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dhampir-dyke · 3 months

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The List(tm) as it stands;

Nucleus - Alleycat

La Femme - Psycho Tropical Berlin

The Killers - Day & Age, Hot Fuss (I've actually listened to most of it, I just wanna listen again lol)

Childish Gambino - Awaken, my love

Tyler the Creator - Igor, CMIYGL, Scum Fuck Flower Boy

Paramore - Paramore, Riot, AWKIF, Brand New Eyes, After Laughter

Stray Kids - Rock Star, 5 Star, Max Ident

Filthy Frank - Pink Guy (don't look at me)

Steve Lacy - Gemini Rights, The Lo-Fis

Mitski - TLIIASAW, Bury Me At Makeout Creek, Be the Cowboy, Lush

Red Velvet - Chill Kill, Feel My Rhythm

Dave Dozy Beaky Mick and Tich - If Music Be The Food Of Love...

Sulphur Aeon - Seven Crowns and Seven Seals, The Scythe of the Cosmis Chaos, Swallowed By The Ocean's Tide, Gateway to the Antisphere

Magnum Innominandum

Casiopea - Mint Jams

Bo En - Pale Machine

Weezer - Weezer

Tom Waits - Frank's Wild Years

War - The World is a Ghetto

Flamingosis - A Groovy Thing

Waterparks - Double Dare

The White Tie Affair - Walk This Way

Ludo - You're Awful, I Love You

Sarah and the Safeword - The Book of Broken Glass

Raveena - Asha's Awakening

#in NO particular order ive been going off vibes tbh #rn im halfway through The Lo-Fis and its very brainscratchy

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4lle4rs · 3 months

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youtube

Magnum Innominandum - إمبراطورية مستحضر الأرواح [album]

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incorrect-hpl-quotes · 6 years

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Magnum Innominandum: Can we go to McDonalds?

Azathoth: No, Magnum Tenebrosum made dinner at home.

Magnum Innominandum, crying: I hate this fucking family.

#incorrect hpl quotes #incorrect quotes #submission #azathoth #magnum innominandum

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macabrecabra · 2 years

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Warmdown doodle for today c: The Three Spawn of Azathoth , hanging out, doing a clearly much appreciated sibling photo!

Its Magnum Innominandum (Nameless Mist), Nyarlathotep, and Darkness from left to right. Nyarla does not like hanging out with siblings....Siblings always are nagging them about SOMETHING. Mostly why Nyarla never uses their true form and likes to look quasi mortal MAYBE They don’t LIKE being a formless mass of cosmic blind idiot god spit and farts okay!?

#My art #warmdown doodle #sketch #Nyarlathotep #The Unnamed Darkness #magnum innominandum #The Nameless Mist #Lovecraft Lore #Cthulhu mythos #Nyarlathotep hides out on Earth to avoid is family #They inherited every braincell that Azathoth had to give

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rayveewrites · 3 years

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Thinking about my 'Cleo is the demigod daughter of Cthulhu' headcanon while rather sleep deprived results in some fun family reunion ideas.

-Family drama. Incredibly dumb family drama. You'd think a bunch of ancient, eldritch gods beyond mortal comprehension would have better things to do, but no, they're arguing over the pettiest shit imaginable. Someone gets disowned or undisowned every other weekend. "[X]'s tentacles are in my soup" is the most common reason.

-Demigod children of the Great Old Ones are stupidly rare, and vary from abominations in their own right to normal-looking. Cleo is actually one of the older demigods (undying zombie), and usually spends the family reunions running damage control.

-She's like the most responsible person there. Everyone else is just even more deranged, with the exception of a couple other normal-passing demis who grew up with their mortal parents.

-Yog-Sothoth and Shub-Niggurath are getting into relationship drama over Lavinia Whateley again so Cleo teaches the little baby abominations to play card games as a distraction.

-Magnum Innominandum shows up one time and Cleo gets really into Uno while Azathoth yells at it for not returning his phone calls.

-Joe tags along sometimes, with a magic spell on his glasses so he won't go insane from all the eldritch beings in close proximity. He introduces Nug to the concept of chicken nuggets, has an extensive conversation on the horrors of capitalism with The Colour, and teaches Tsathoggua to play poker.

-Doc wants to come sometime. Cleo does not want Doc getting any more reality-breaking ideas. The spacetime continuum can only handle so much.

-She always shows up back at Hermitcraft covered in slime, ooze, gunk, and blood in colours slime, ooze, gunk and blood should not be. They're actually quite useful in some branches of magic, so she keeps little bottles of them in a spare shulker.

-Still better than reunions with the mortal side of the family. At least the eldritch abominations don't pester her about still being a zombie.

-Her dad's the worst about that particular matter.

#I am. Very tired #I should not be #I get plenty of sleep #and yet I am #so have some incoherent ramblings about family reunions with The Great Old Ones #I'm not tagging them btw they're probably wildly ooc #this isn't an official au or something but you can ask about it I guess #rayvee rambles

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lovelaceace · 1 year

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My people will endure

Pestilence and wars

Just to bear my greed

Just to watch me live

-Black Lotus, Starspawn Of Cthulhu

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harbardgrim · 5 years

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“I found myself faced by names and terms that I had heard elsewhere in the most hideous of connections—Yuggoth, Great Cthulhu, Tsathoggua, Yog-Sothoth, R'lyeh, Nyarlathotep, Azathoth, Hastur, Yian, Leng, the Lake of Hali, Bethmoora, the Yellow Sign, L'mur-Kathulos, Bran and the Magnum Innominandum—and was drawn back through nameless aeons and inconceivable dimensions to worlds of elder, outer entity at which the crazed author of the Necronomicon had only guessed in the vaguest way.... There is a whole secret cult of evil men (a man of your mystical erudition will understand me when I link them with Hastur and the Yellow Sign) devoted to the purpose of tracking them down and injuring them on behalf of the monstrous powers from other dimensions.”

- H.P. Lovecraft

Hastur, The Unspeakable, The King in Yellow

#hastur #cthulhu mythos #lovecraft #horror #art

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phoenix-quentin · 5 years

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incarnateirony · 5 years

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Who is Azathoth and who is The Nameless Mist? I did not read Lovecraft, so can you explain to me if you can?

The Nameless Mist is one of the outer gods that’s a creator of a bunch of other ancient cosmic things. Nameless Mist also isn’t so nameless because it’s later named Nyog’Sothep and Magnum Innominandum (or at least it’s thought that was the name– look, Lovecraftian mythos is crazy.) But there’s next to no other mythos past that.

And Azathoth is… well, the creator of the Nameless mist, Nyarlathotep and The Darkness. The Nameless Mist would be a sister of The Darkness. The Darkness was the creator of Shub-Niggurath and so on. It’s a pasta bowl of lineaged children that look like pasta bowls themselves.

Azathoth is almost an undefinable concept. Explaining it is almost impossible. People get confused like “What is Azathoth?? Is it the universe?? Are we Azathoth??” The better way to put it is we’re just part of Azathoth’s dream. Like you sleep. You dream. You experience people and places and events that just kind of evaporate once you wake up. But while you’re asleep they’re real. It’s to say that everything you know or comprehend is part of Azathoth’s dreaming, and they dream many dreams, similar to what I mentioned in my various asks about The Demiurge or Abraxas.

It’s reasonable and fair to assume some association with The Empty with Azathoth inspiration, or Abraxas who was recently name dropped. He likes and needs sleep and just wants to quietly sleep and dream, after all. And is outside of space and time and existence itself before anything and everything poofed into being.

In Lovecraft, there’s a bunch of elder gods that run around and try to lullaby Azathoth to keep sleeping so the dream isn’t interrupted, too. It’s complicated.

#supernatural #ask me anything #season 14 #speculation #intertext #abraxas #lovecraft #mythos #my asks are getting wild today

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