#eldritch tales

[eldritchpotato]

First Contact

You're a renowned xenobiologist doing research on a remote planet. When quarantine is breached and you come face to face with some of the local fauna your life might never be the same, this new species has found the perfect home.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

Content Warning: alien smut, symbiotic/parasitic creature, female reader, corruption, brainwashing, body transformation, lactation, orgasm denial, oviposition, bad ending?

You weren't really sure what had happened until you got back to the station. The alarm still blared which was honestly more irritating than the breach of your suit.

Slamming the alarm off you kicked free of your space suit and held it up for inspection. The tear wasn’t large, maybe the width of your palm, but definitely enough to start losing oxygen quickly. It was lucky you were close to the base.

Then it moved, a shriek leaving your lips as you dropped it. Oh fuck, fuck fucking fuck there was something in your suit.

Holding your breath you waited, thankfully anything that could survive out there would be suffocated by the oxen-rich facility. When it stopped moving you slipped your oversized gloves back on and tentatively got closed.

Beyond the difference in atmosphere and the changes that caused, neither the fauna nor flora of this planet were abnormally dangerous. But you could never be too careful.

Slowly you picked up your space suit, trying to peek through the collar to see whatever it was. It promptly jumped right for you, warm grasping tendrils grabbing onto your head as it skittered for purchase. It was small and grey, oddly sticky and warm.

That didn’t stop you from slapping the thing off your face as hard as you could.

By the time you stumbled back and wiped your face the thing was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh fuck me,” you muttered, you were gonna be in so much trouble for this. But before you had the chance to initiate quarantine and the lecture from your boss that would follow it landed on your lower back.

You just managed to glimpse it slipping down your pants with an utterly odd flexibility in the reflection of the window before your fingers reached it. You scrambled to unbutton your pants, some old human saying about ants ringing through your head.

There were several things you were worried about, allergies, toxins, bites, stings, bacteria, viruses. So many reasons why you needed to get as far away from this thing as possible. It slipped down in an utterly invasive manner only to wiggle forward and press itself against your pussy was… well you didn’t even know how to react to something like that.

You froze like a statue at the sheer strangeness of it all. A suction against your clit jolted you into action to kick your pants off. But it was fast, faster than you could have predicted, its tendrils wrapping around your thighs, attaching itself to your body.

Sheer manic made you grab it, its coils only tightening around you in response, the suction on your clit becoming painful. You could feel something moving, its mouth maybe?

You tugged again, but it didn’t budge, the pain that shot through your clit dissuaded you from trying again. If you pulled on it, it pulled right back on your clit.

Horror thrummed through you. Nothing could have prepared you for this. This… thing was attached to your most sensitive area. How the fuck were you supposed to get it off?

It didn’t hurt, if anything maybe the suction was a little… nice. But you couldn’t very well go about your day with this thing suctioned to your body. It clung to you, covering your vulva like underwear though its soft tail dangled between your legs.

It didn’t look strong, but it was. You weren’t particularly keen on just waiting for it to finish whatever it was doing and detaching, because what the fuck was it doing?

Every muscle in your body tensed as something began to push inside you, both in your pussy and ass. Instinctively grabbing the creature only made it speed up, trusting some part of itself inside your body. It didn’t hurt, not really, it was just… 

“What the fuck,” you muttered, feeling far more full than you ever had before.

The worst part was that it didn’t feel entirely bad. The strange tingling feeling was quickly leaning more towards arousal. Helplessly your clit throbbed, the creature sucked.

You nearly fell over trying to sit down as the thing continued to… stimulate you.

It was impossible not to brace for something but nothing came. It just… rhythmically sucked on your throbbing clit, some part of it buried inside you. It was shocking how turned on you were. You were a well-respected scientist, no one could ever know about… this.

Slowly you stood, grateful that the thing did not impact your range of motion. Gently you brought your fingers down, attempting to wedge them between the creature and your skin. Its strange fleshy tendrils tightened around your hips almost in warning.

“Okay, not gonna do that then,” you sighed with a shake of your head.

Feeling somewhat in shock you headed for medical to get a scan done. At the very least you could figure out what this thing was doing and hopefully maybe how to remove it. Your bare feet pattered on the cool metal, the creature sucking on your clit happily the whole way there.

[darielivalyen]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance [WIP]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance is a game that blends elements of psychological, supernatural, and cosmic horror with a good dose of drama, investigation, and romance. You and your high school friends are reunited after five years by a mysterious letter, and through this letter, you inherit an old Gothic manor and a substantial fortune.

There is only one condition: you must live in the manor together.

As you arrive at Blackthorn Manor, strange, unsettling events begin to unfold. Shadows move on their own, nights are unnaturally dark, and the atmosphere grows increasingly tense. The manor is full of secrets, and the more you learn, the less you seem to understand.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Customize your appearance, personality, and sexuality.

Romance or befriend a wealthy and carefree playboy, a no-nonsense scientist, a disciplined and protective ex-soldier, or a sweet and free-spirited artist.

Manage your relationships, or face unforeseen consequences.

Pay attention to your sanity and health, or…don’t.

Search for clues, solve puzzles, and learn the truth behind your inheritance.

Discover hidden rooms, secret passages, and eldritch artifacts.

Confront moral dilemmas, and be careful as they may have far-reaching consequences.

Face randomized events that will keep each playthrough unique.

Experience multiple endings based on your choices and actions.

What darkness does Blackthorn Manor conceal, and how will it affect your fate? Can you uncover the truth and survive, or will the manor’s sinister influence consume you all?

TYLER REYNOLDS

Background: Born into wealth, Tyler has always enjoyed privilege and opulence. While his party-going ways have quieted recently, he still likes to boast about his family’s status.

Personality: Tyler has a confident, carefree spirit that can be both alluring and unnerving. He enjoys living in the now and isn’t too concerned with the future.

Physical description: Tyler is tall and lean with an athletic build. He has dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a preppy yet sophisticated style. He is fond of loafers and owns over two hundred pairs.

Smell: Blend of citrus and sage.

CALEB MITCHELL

Background: A former soldier, Caleb has spent the last couple of years doing different security jobs. He’s very protective of his younger sister Julia, with whom he shares a close bond.

Personality: Caleb is disciplined and protective, with a dry sense of humor shaped by his military background. Despite his rugged exterior, he dreams of a peaceful life.

Physical description: Caleb is tall and muscular, and has an overall rugged appearance. He has a dark brown undercut, deep brown eyes, and a bit of stubble. His style is mostly casual.

Smell: Cedarwood with hints of amber.

JULIA MITCHELL

Background: Julia has a deep passion for science; she excels in engineering and physics. Her career and research define most of what her life is about.

Personality: Julia is a no-nonsense individual who values efficiency and clarity. She’s methodical in her approach to problems but can get puzzled in overly emotional moments.

Physical description: Julia is of medium height with a lean physique. She has neck-long black hair, deep brown eyes, and wears stylish glasses. Her style is Parisian chic.

Smell: Paper and ink, with hints of lavender.

LUNA HARPER

Background: An artist first and foremost, Luna’s whole world revolves around her paintbrush and palette. She embraces all forms and aspects of spirituality and loves crystals.

Personality: Luna is a free spirit, and her vibrant personality is reflected in her artwork. Her optimism is infectious, her humor innocent, and her soul seems to be untouched by cynicism.

Physical description: Luna is petite and has an ethereal presence. She has long platinum-blonde hair with pink highlights, green eyes, and loves the bohemian style.

Smell: Patchouli and sandalwood.

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[tawked]

Conan the Barbarian: The Tower of the Elephant, Marvel, (very slightly) edited.

[witchofthemidlands]

until further notice i shall be of the belief that this is all gearing up to the trickster's big comeback, in this essay i will…

[slytherintothedms]

watching ‘the exorcism of claire nunez’ and picked up on the fact that morgana called jim a “trollish whelp” - cute little bit of foreshadowing from the all-knowing morgana

[see-arcane]

Eggers' seems to like his vampires as very visibly walking corpses. That of course wouldn't really fit with the Carmilla story for a whole number of reasons.

Other than that she does actually have a lot of the "folk vampire" aspects he likes.

She does! But she's also a very distinct kind of monster compared to Dracula/Orlok in how she operates. Almost on the same level of Lord Ruthven of "The Vampyre," ala the MO of befriending and/or seducing innocents specifically to kill them. With Laura she seems to show signs of 'serial killer got too attached to the victim,' cue Millie getting into fixated vampire lover territory. But other than that, she has less of Eggers' preferred visceral threat and jagged edges than he seems to prefer with his villains.

[mamaangiwine]

Honestly? I think there should be more folk horror cinema inspired by The Bible. This shit is so eldritch and it goes hard.

[deconstructthesoup]

The stepmother can do what now

[junkkey]

Here's my Meet the artist (about time I did one ^^) :

[eldritchpotato]

The Hunt

You’re running through the woods, doing your absolute best to escape from the creature hunting you. Unfortunately, you’re outmatched and the huntress has no intention of letting her prize get away.

Content Warning: female reader, primal play, alien smut, alien anatomy and rough sex.

Your heart is drumming in your chest. You know she is out there. The occasional click and growl. The rustling of branches. You can’t see her, not that sprinting through the woods as fast as your legs can carry you remotely helps with that, but that primal part of your lizard brain knows you're still being pursued.

You duck behind a tree, gasping for air as you try to compose yourself. You’re making so much noise, but your chest is spasming so much you couldn’t slow your breathing if you tried.

You can’t hear her footsteps, she’s too skilled for that. Peering around the tree you manage to make out the faint shimmer. Thank the heavens for the rain or you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of spotting her through her active camouflage.

Her form stops moving and you know you’ve been spotted. An amused thrill emerges from the massive shape before she rushes you. How something so big can move so fast you have no idea.

You scramble to your feet, slipping in the mud. Your clothes have been long since ruined but you have far bigger problems.

The tree behind you explodes, large invisible blades splintering the trunk. You would scream, but you still haven’t caught your breath.

There’s no point in turning to look behind you. If you could even see her you would just realize how utterly fucked you were.

Your only option is to keep going. At some point going down the hill becomes sliding, then tumbling. Banging against a rock and scratching yourself on a branch as you claw your way up the other side of the ditch.

All is silent. At least you can’t make out anything over your heavy breathing. You’re alone now, or at least you have a moment of respite. There’s no way she isn’t still watching you. She’s an expert hunter, a predator, your odds of escaping are virtually none. But you have to try.

A growl emerges from the woods around you. You spin on shaky legs, struggling to pinpoint the origin. You’re so slippery caked in mud, you can barely stay on your feet. Sure it helps to hide your heat signature but your exertion increases your body temperature far too much for it to be of any use.

Your own attempts to flee only make your position more obvious. A branch snaps above you, she’s in the trees. It’s enough to give away her position though.

You turn and run.

It’s easy enough to realize your mistake before you even can process why. The thing flies directly at you, your own panicked brain sending you right where she wanted you.

One moment you're turning, the next your legs are being pulled out from under you, the bola tying you up as you roll down the slope through the mud.

By the time the pain subsides and you manage to start to untangle yourself you hear her thump to the ground. Footprints appear in the mud as the invisible figure stalks towards you. The rain is blocked by the trees here but the occasional droplet makes her form spark into existence.

Crawling is futile, you’ll never get away without the use of your legs. But she’s towering over you before that could ever be an option. Her hulking figure appears. Her silver featureless mask, her writhing tendrils of hair, her toned and muscular body.

She reaches down and grabs you up by your jacket. Her other hand reaches up to unclasp her mask, her mandibles flare as she lets out a roar of triumph.

You’ve lost.

Tossing her mask to the side she picks you up with both arms, pinning you to the tree effortlessly. Her claws tear off your cheap clothing already long ruined by blood. You're covered in bumps and scratches, tomorrow you’re going to be extremely sore.

She’s saying something, without your translator you're at a disadvantage but you’ve spent enough time in her company to recognize the clicking gruff gloating of victory.

No reason to make it easy. Unfortunately, she knows you too well, your brief attempt at struggling doesn’t remotely budge her. When she slips her claws between your legs in response you can’t help but tense.

She laughs then, unbuckling her belt and tugging off the rest of her armour. With one arm less to keep you in place you can wiggle, not that it gets you very far, the tree bark digging into your back.

She clicks at you in warning before tugging you against her broad chest. The tentacles between her legs are already grasping at you, sucking to your thighs and trying to wiggle between your legs.

You kick at her, petulant more than anything. A large hand wraps around your throat, gently restricting airflow as she lets out a pleased growl.

She’s always liked this. She’s a hunter after all, what fun is it if the prey surrenders?

Whispering something in your ear you feel her forked tongue trail down your neck. She holds you with one arm and spreads your legs with the other.

You’re utterly soaked, as to be expected, but she would still be teasing you about it if she wasn't busy slipping her tentacles inside you. They sucker your bodies together and hold you in place as much as they can.

You know how sensitive they are, just like her hair tendrils. Unfortunately with your hands pinned you’re at her mercy and can hardly tease her.

You groan as they fill you up, wiggling deeper.

She lets out a purr, licking at your neck as she fucks you, her clit rubbing against yours.

The breath you had only started to recover is forced from your lungs. When her grip starts to falter she presses you against the tree, manhandling you so she can fuck you properly.

As whine leaves you as you clench around her, her tentacles never leave you though, only burrowing and wiggling even deeper, attaching you wide.

That would be enough to make you cum, but her heat sliding against you is just too much. You’ve never been particularly vocal, but she always manages to fuck you hard enough that you lose control of yourself.

Your fingers dig into her leathery skin, your cunt fluttering as your orgasm approaches. You can’t take it, too much to be pleasurable, too rough not to be painful. She’s using your body, claiming her reward.

But you’re cumming regardless, your muscles spasming, if she wasn’t pinning you against the tree you would have lost your grip. Your head falls back against the bark, your eyes tightly shut as you clench your teeth. Your vision has gone white, cumming so you can’t feel anything else, but she’s not done yet.

Your muscles can’t keep up anymore, too exhausted to not just clench down. Your gushing, drenching her tentacles and cunt as she keeps fucking you. You’ve lost any control of yourself, you can’t even breathe.

She howls, her crest slamming into the tree inches away from you as her mandibles nip at your shoulder. She cums, her weight crashing into you and nearly smothering you as she tenses. Her own wetness mixed with yours.

She’s got no eggs to fill you with at this time of year, not that you were a male that could fertilize them but that only makes it more fun. But quite honestly considering you’ve been cumming for a solid minute you think that might break you.

When she finally releases you she takes you into her arms rather than letting you slump to the middle ground. Cheap clothes are one thing, you’re far too precious.

“Fuck,” is all you can croak, your pussy still thrumming with overstimulation even as her tentacles gently and lovingly ease themselves out of you.

She presses a kiss to your forehead, her fangs ticking your foreheads. 

“F-hmm,” you groan.

She laughs weakly and gathers her things.

Your vision is still spinning as she carries you back to her ship. She’s going to spend the next week panicked about every scratch and bruise she gave you but it would be so worth it for this.

Weakly you promise yourself that next time you’ll manage to escape. Even if you know that definitely won’t be the case.

[darielivalyen]

Just read Eldritch Tales and it was so intriguing! Well paced, cool characters, very spooky. Excited for more. :)

Hi there! Thank you so so so much for your kind words! I'm glad you enjoyed the story so far, and I assure you more is coming. I meant to upload much more frequently (and I used to do so with previous projects), but I've been struggling a bit with my health.

I write whenever I can, but it's still not as often and as much as I'd like to. Things seem to be getting better, though, so I hope this changes soon! Thanks again! 💚

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[grokebaby]

Lore notes - sayings and lingo of the afterlife realm (Not sins but tragedies)

HELL

- Oh Satan! Is a common curse, or a way to express shock and frustration in the Pride district. This district tends to be aware of human culture and it's own history, and thus Satan is something of a pop culture figure to them. Not real, of course, but it's developed from an ironic inside joke to a common reference. Other variations of this saying include cursing to Satan's body parts, such as horns, for example. This saying is used in place of "Oh my god", which is seen as a controversial sentence (to varying degrees, depending on area and company)

- (By/For/All of) heaven and earth! Is another way to curse, or express exasperation. This isn't a region specific saying and can be heard in most districts. It is often connected into some other sentence to intensify the sense of annoyance, ridiculousness, or grandness the speaker wants to instill. For example "By heaven and earth, you better listen closely right now!", or "For heaven and earth, you two are gonna be in big trouble!" or "You could hit em over the head with it and they still wouldn't care, for heaven and earth!". The saying has a similar energy to "Oh for cryin outloud!", and historically refers to a sentiment by olden angels, which they used to express a sense of superior meaning by excluding hell from the equation. It has been adopted by demons since.

HEAVEN

- A throne's rotation is a way of saying something would take so long, or such intense effort that it's near impossible. This saying is very old fashioned, and it refers to the fact that God's throne is so cosmically heavy, and bound tightly to space and time, that it'd be near impossible to rotate or lodge out of place without causing huge danger. For example, someone may say: "It'd take a throne's rotation to gather all grains of sand from all of earth!" or "What a mess! It'll be a throne's rotation before it's all cleaned up again!". Technical nerds though, can be quick to point out that the saying might also refer to the waves of energy that God's throne cycles ("rotates") in and out of itself at a near constant rate, so really, the phrase 'should' mean the complete opposite. However there's been arguments over the true origin of the saying, and realistically, it could mean either one. The saying has fallen largely out of fashion due to this.

- Oh/By the/Dear Throne is essentially the angels' way of using any "God" sayings. (Oh dear God / oh my god / by God ect) this is of course, due to the highest Angel being God's throne, and not 'really' having a The God™ figure aside from it. Hence, someone saying Oh my god, instead of Oh Throne, would come across strange and foreign. They're also very averse to adding "My" to any throne related sayings, as it comes across as creepy and abnormal at best, and downright heretical at worst. Even mother Ngah, an angel knownly enamored with the throne, would find adding 'My' very disrespectful towards it. To say such is to imply ownership and to attempt to deny the throne it's vastness and meaning. This aversion may also be an attempt to dissuade angels from developing unhealthy relationships or views with and towards God's throne.

[super-paper]

afotaro is the elephant's foot of toxic old man yaoi but that's not gonna stop me from memeing on it, y'know, as a coping mechanism.

[tawked]

Conan: The Tower of the Elephant & Other Stories, Dark Horse.

As Conan came forward, his eyes fixed on the motionless idol, the eyes of the thing opened suddenly! The Cimmerian froze in his tracks. It was no image - it was a living thing, and he was trapped in its chamber! That he did not instantly explode in a burst of murderous frenzy is a fact that measures his horror, which paralyzed him where he stood. A civilized man in his position would have sought doubtful refuge in the conclusion that he was insane; it did not occur to the Cimmerian to doubt his senses. He knew he was face t o face with a demon of the Elder World, and the realization robbed him of all his faculties except sight. The truck of the horror was lifted and quested about, the topaz eyes stared unseeingly, and Conan knew the monster was blind. With the thought came a thawing of his frozen nerves, and he began to back silently toward the door. But the creature heard. The sensitive trunk stretched toward him, and Conan's horror froze him again when the being spoke, in a strange, stammering voice that never changed its key or timbre. The Cimmerian knew that those jaws were never built or intended for human speech. "Who is here? Have you come to torture me again, Yara? Will you never be done? Oh, Yag-kosha, is there no end to agony?" Tears rolled from the sightless eyes, and Conan's gaze strayed to the limbs stretched on the marble couch. And he knew the monster would not rise to attack him. He knew the marks of the rack, and the searing brand of the flame, and tough-souled as he was, he stood aghast at the ruined deformities which his reason told him had once been limbs as comely as his own. And suddenly all fear and repulsion went from him, to be replaced by a great pity. What this monster was, Conan could not know, but the evidenc es of its suffering were so terrible and pathetic that a strange sadness came over the Cimmerian, and he knew not why. He only felt that he was looking upon a cosmic tragedy, and he shrank with shame, as if the guilt of a whole race were laid upon him. "I am not Yara," he said. "I am only a thief. I will not harm you." "Come near that I may touch you," the creature faltered, and Conan came near unfearingly, his sword hanging forgotten in his hand. The sensitive trunk came out and groped over his face and shoulders, as a blind man gropes, and its touch was light as a girl's hand. "You are not of Yara's race of devils," sighed the creature. "The clean, lean fierceness of the wastelands marks you. I know your people from of old, whom I knew by another name in the long, long ago when another world lifted its jeweled spires to the stars. There is blood on your fingers."

— The Tower of the Elephant, Robert E. Howard, originally published in Weird Tales Magazine March 1933, this version from "The Complete Chronicles of Conan," Gollancz, 2006.

The subtext of compassion for a profoundly disabled person - a literal elephant man no less, perhaps inspired by Joseph Merrick upon whom the famous film was based and who lived from 1862 - 1890 - is something I personally always found profound in Robert E. Howard's work.

You must understand, at the time freak shows and human zoos were common, as were institutions which would house disabled children more or less from their birth to their often not-too-far-off deaths as a matter of cultural protocol. Fear of infection regarding physical deformities was a fact of Howard's life, so there is a perhaps an intentional violation of taboo in the use of physical human contact here. Regardless, compassion for the disabled was not common. That Conan, here characterized in an almost Hobbesian sense as a true reflection of human nature without the influences of civilization, reacts immediately with kindness and sympathy.

[vangold]

Kind of a warm up now that October is slowly approaching and with it upcoming Inktober. Actually I already decided for this year's theme. I'm planning to do an entire Inktober - or better said Creeptober - Lovecraft-themed. Really looking forward for it. Was in the mood lately anyway to do more stuff into that direction.

However until than don't mind me giving His Yellowness some more well deserved screen time here.

L̴̬͌ơ̴̖n̷̼̏g̵̩̀ ̸͚̈l̶̢͒i̴̗̊f̷̯̆e̶̪̚ ̷̭̊t̴͖̃ḥ̸͋ë̸̪ ̸̥̕K̵̖̎i̴̾ͅn̵͉̉g̵̜͊

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[metatomatoes]

So I'm not into MTG but I do like collecting things so I bought a few booster packs a while ago just to check out the art. Finally got around to opening them and promptly FREAKED OUT because LOOOK they did Eldritch Elrond!

Elrond, Lord of Rivendell by Anato Finnstark for Wizards of the Coast/Lord of the Rings Tales of Middle-Earth 2023.