#lovely lovecraft

[kaptainandy]

herbert west playing yugioh if you even care 🙄

[runtwithwolves]

remember that time Stan agreed to be a vessel

[opalwisteria]

Blasphemy? Before what? God?

I will not be shackled by the failures of YOUR god.

The only blasphemy is to wallow in insignificance.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price and Lon Chaney Jr. -

The Haunted Palace (1963)

[thechills]

IN THE DEEP (horror and the sea for @antichrist-demoncore 🌊)

hermann melville / triangle (2009) / julia armfield / the deep house (2021) / h.p. lovecraft / underwater (2020) / mira grant / 47 meters down: uncaged (2019) / werner herzog / the deep ones

[mellowwillowy]

Every Wednesday at 10 AM sharp, a handsome old man visits you for his weekly book.

Content: Subtle yandere, eldritch horror bs

Despite his wrinkled features, he seems ethereally handsome. You know he is not one friendly man because you've seen his wrath at his family or pests firsthand, but he has never even once treated you as though in a rude manner.

This ritual went on until he decided to start a conversation with you one day.

"Isn't it boring to work as a librarian in this vast library alone?"

And Mother, did you know he has a very rich voice. You were always flustered whenever he spoke and he found it amusing.

"It can't be helped. If not me, then who will take this role?"

Instead of leaving with his book as usual, he decided to stay for a moment. His eyes studied each detail of your appearance meticulously. The two of you were wearing spectacles, except that his was a monocle.

The man only nodded in response and left your counter as usual.

-

Yoggy. A silly name for a man like him but he had grown too used to it to even fuss about it. Unlike you who were just a lesser being, a vessel to your Mother, he was a god with immense power. You'd always think of him as a scholar instead of a glob of featureless tentacles, opting to not scare yourself to meet his almost golden-like eyes.

Wednesday, 10 AM sharp, he waited patiently for you to hand him another book for him to peruse. This time it was a book from the 14th century.

He examined the leather cover and carved the title on it, hand feeling the texture of the old book.

"Have you perhaps ever read that, sir? Should I get another one?"

Yoggy stayed silent for a moment, skimming through the book before shutting it tight with one hand.

"I suppose reading this again wouldn't hurt."

You shivered at his voice. Had you been anyone but not the librarian from this Capital of Life (library), those words would have been delivered more as a warning, a threat, or maybe even the last words you'll be hearing.

As though he noticed your concern, he cleared his throat uncharacteristically.

"I mean that. Cease your worry, librarian."

Perhaps it was because he considered the time you two had cultivated this relationship? It had almost been centuries.

You looked up through the rim of your glasses and looked through his eyes. He really meant it.

Unlike that one time, you accidentally wandered into his territory and saw him shredding someone like a paper for displeasing him, he really had no intention of doing that to you.

Yoggy left with a click of his cane, leaving you all alone on your counter before you dropped to your knees, breathing out the breath you had been holding in. Suddenly, a familiar bright man surprised you as he leaned through the counter, "You thought you almost lost your life again, didn't you~?"

You threw a book lying on the floor at his face out of reflex. Fortunately, he had a quick reflex and caught it with his left hand.

"I think he fancies ya'" He returned the book for you and you accepted it graciously.

"I don't think you should speak of him like that..."

"Why? Because he might behead me for it?"

You nodded and he burst out laughing.

"No no, but I'm serious, dead serious. Don't you think he finally felt lonely again?"

"I'm pretty sure his sons sometimes visit him..."

The man you were speaking to was one of the few friendly gods, alas he was the most likable one due to his friendliness but you chose not to indulge in a friendship with him lest you fell into one of his trickeries.

Nyarla shook his head and waved his hand dramatically, "Oh non non non! Lonely does not only mean 'lonely', but it can also mean 'lonely'."

As though he could read through your puzzled face, he inched closer into your face, mouth close to your ear, and whispered, "I bet he's horny right n-"

Suddenly Nyarla's head was hit by a cane you were familiar with. He immediately regained his composure, jumped into the counter, and hid behind you.

Yoggy came back with a book he didn't lend and a cane pointed toward Nyarla's forehead. His gazes weren't necessarily deadly but still threatening to Nyarla. You stood in front of Nyarla, shielding him from Yoggy's wrath before he got wrung like a dirty dishcloth again.

"Anything I can help you with, sir?" You looked at his face and then at the teal-colored book.

Yoggy glared at Nyarla who was hiding behind you before giving up the idea of wringing him. He handed you the book and you examined it. The leather-covered book had no title carved on it and it was notably old parchment papers. There was not a single content in the book as you skimmed through the pages. You looked at him questioningly.

"I figured I wanted to try something new this time. Librarian, do you know how to write?"

He wanted you to write him a story. Was it some sort of penalty for handing him a book he had once read?

"It's no punishment. I just wish to read a story from the librarian I frequent."

Nyarla whistled and suddenly groaned in pain. You immediately looked behind you and saw him folded in double, clutching his stomach.

"D-do I need to call the nurse, Nyarla?" You placed the book onto the counter first before tending him, trying to pry his hands off his stomach, and saw a black glob of eyes, presumably, Yoggy's doing.

"Nah, just gonna... yank this off." Nyarla pulled the glob from his abdomen, you noticed his organs splattered on the floor before dissipating into nothing. The bloody, open wound that was originally there also healed almost instantly. You shivered from the memory of Yoggy shredding that poor soul again.

Yoggy cleared his throat and your attention returned to him.

"Can you do it?"

Unwilling to be the next subject of his wrath, you nodded frantically and pushed Nyarla's early remark far behind your head. A coward as usual.

-

For the next whole week, Nyarla frequented your counter when he had the time, watching you writing and throwing countless drafts, your counter filled with crumpled paper. Your hands were dirtied by ink and your eye bags showed your lack of sleep.

Nyarla didn't stop teasing you, often reminding you about how 'lonely' Yoggy was and how he was just trying to woo you with this nonsense. You remained diligent with your work to provide Yoggy entertainment lest you became a gruesome lump of meat to sate his boredom.

Today too, Nyarla sat in front of your counter, pouting at the lack of attention you gave him while mindlessly playing with your hair. It was Wednesday at 9 AM, an hour away before Yoggy would visit you for his weekly read and perhaps your story.

Nyarla's golden eyes never left you and you could feel it bore into your pores uncomfortably.

But you paid no mind to it and tried to finish the book, rushing to meet your deadline.

You couldn't hear Yoggy's footsteps mainly because he wasn't walking but Nyarla could sense his presence.

Nyarla inched closer to you, his eyes mesmerized by your eye bags. His lip twitched into a playful grin before he playfully whispered into your ear, "I think I like it more when you are tired."

You didn't understand what he was trying to say. Did he mean he likes you more when you are stressed? If so, you weren't surprised until he nibbled on your ear playfully.

For the first time after centuries, an uncharacteristically high-pitched distress noise slipped out of your mouth. A thud was heard and it was Yoggy's cane falling. Nyarla didn't have to look back to know what it was and opted to clasp his hands onto your face, peppering your face in feather smooches until he was yanked away by angered Yoggy.

Like a mother cat picking its kitten with its mouth except that Nyarla's neck was strangled by his bare hand.

You saw a glimpse of his limbs, limbs filled with eyes staring into the distant and Nyarla, curling around his arms and legs, pulling him even further from you before slamming it into the bookshelves behind him.

If you could scream, you would have screamed but you decided to not bring any attention to yourself. You really didn't want to anger the god further. Nyarla could survive by installing his limbs back like an android but you couldn't. You decided to put all the pity on you and not Nyarla, opting to finish your proofreading ASAP while Yoggy swung Nyarla around like he was a cowboy.

This went on until it was 10 AM and Yoggy lined in front of your counter, his presence demanding another book as usual. You could tell how pale your face was without even having to look into his monocle's reflection.

"Have you finished writing your tale?"

"Y-yes." You mentally scolded yourself for the croaked voice. "Yes, I have sir."

You handed him the teal-covered book and just before you could leave to bring him his weekly read, he held you still by your hand, awfully gentle with how he tried not to scare you after the bloody display he had to show you.

"I will only be reading your writing for this week... so there's no need for another book."

Instead of comforting you, it only dreaded you further. And he could tell by how your pupils were shaking.

Nyarla who had just finally finished putting his limbs back together slinked his arm around his nephew while grinning at you, "Yoggy wants to enjoy your writing to the fullest. Even if it's crap, I'm sure he'll still enjoy it."

"I will, (Name)."

His hand went to reach your ear Nyarla nibbled on earlier and wiped it clean for you before he wiped it on Nyarla's face forcefully again. Just as Yoggy was about to leave, he made sure to drag Nyarla out from the capital.

You could hear Nyarla playfully tease him until they were finally out of earshot. You dropped to your knees and let out the breath you'd been holding on after Yoggy touched your ear, his face dangerously close to you.

You were used to Nyarla's stunt but never Yoggy's. You could feel his breath fanning against your skin and how his eyes looked almost like the golden sun. Your heart drummed against your ribcage, screaming to be ripped out.

Oh never mind, you've never had any heart to begin with and it was just the illusion of your heartbeat spiking up. It reminded you of the time when high schoolers would feel when they were near their crush.

Crush. Feelings? Do you perhaps feel that way for Yoggy or was it just unfamiliarity to his sudden action?

--

"Stop getting under my skin." Yoggy spat through gritted teeth.

"Why? Don't tell me you really fancy that librarian? Oooo, tough time for--"

Just before Nyarla could finish his line, Yoggy swung his cane and Nyarla managed to dodge it this time.

"If you won't quit it, your devotees will be shredded into my devotees' dinner."

A threat. And perhaps a warning. As much as Nyarla liked to push his buttons, he'd rather not risk weakening himself for something silly like this. Nyarla dissipated into nothing and left Yoggy alone with the teal-covered book.

He felt the carved title with his thumb and bit back a smile.

He wasn't sure how he thought of you but he wouldn't deny how pleasant your company was to him. He didn't have to specify what it was yet but he'd like to know what it was soon. For now, he was pleased to be able to see you once a week and perhaps twice a week soon.

He wished you'd require his assistance one day. To have you indebted to him would make it easier for him to grow more inside your mind. He'd rather not use deceit on you. You were a pleasant thing, not a pest or a sacrificial lamb.

Yoggy didn't realize he was walking into someone else until he heard a groan, too immersed in his imaginative world.

Yoggy didn't realize he was smiling until his son pointed it out.

And he refused to realize that he had slaughtered the few people who tried to court you.

... he'd like to understand what he was feeling as soon as possible.

[soliusss]

uhhhhhhh she unknown on my dream quest until I kadath or whatever the fuck I painted this in one sitting late last night

[death-in-a-handbasket]

hello tumblr dot com, in honor of my first bsd characters post reaching 3k notes, would you like some art?

[fhtagn-and-tentacles]

THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND OUT LOVE

by Thomas Elliott

[tapeworrmart]

Self preservation 🧪

[male-polish]

Reanimator if it was awesome and they were both girls <3

[lee-apolla]

The moment of intimacy

[merriclo]

i love BSD’s portrayal of Americans because it really is just the human embodiment of capitalism, guy with a gun, old fisherman, gay guy and his raccoon, eldritch horror, a farmer, freakishly religious guy and his mean southern lady best friend, a deranged orphan, and a shy woman. truly a perfect representation of America

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

VINCENT PRICE as Joseph Curwen

THE HAUNTED PALACE (1963) dir. Roger Corman

[akabaka-dev]

[mellowwillowy]

Content: Eldritch horror bs, subtle yandere, GN reader

You didn't mean to get yourself involved with a serial killer. You didn't mean to enter his unlocked hotel room. You didn't mean to catch him strangling that woman.

But one thing you really mean was pleading for him to spare your life. You'd feign ignorance if it meant he'd let you go. And he did let you go under the condition that you must never turn down his messages and calls. The two of you exchanged phone numbers with the woman choking for air while you trembled until your teeth gnawed on your mouth. The two of you were under his mercy and only one survived the night.

He ushered the drunk you out of his room, giving you one last wink. You immediately ran to the room next to his and placed your ear on the wall, the alcohol didn't hinder you from hearing the woman's groans. You couldn't have heard anything because of how thick the wall was and even if you did, you would only think of it as a loud sexual moans.

But you could hear it clearly now. The nails scratching the carpeted walls and digging inside his wrists, the gagged mouth, the frantic breathing, and the image of the woman's scared face flashed into your brain clearly for a split second.

You jumped away from the wall and hid yourself under the blanket. Was it the alcohol and drugs taking a toll on you? You squeezed your eyes tight and counted back from 100, wishing it was just a fleeting nightmare or hallucination from the narcotics.

But it wasn't. You saw the recently added contact in your phone. 'Nyarla'.

It wasn't hard at all to remember his appearance. You remembered his one-pointed fang the most.

Suddenly your phone vibrated and it showed a text from Nyarla.

'Finally awake? Make sure to check out before 2 PM.'

You looked at your surroundings, frantically searching for any sort of cameras in the room, and found nothing. There was nothing yet the room felt so cold and damp. It felt like the room was suffocating you. Your stomach churned and you rushed to the toilet, throwing up last night's remnants. Alcohol, narcotics, and guilt. You should have called the hotel staffs or the authorities.

Another text came in,

'Didn't you promise me to always reply to my messages?'

You frantically texted him back. The conversation went on until a hotel staff rang your room's doorbell. They were here for clean up. And judging from their direction, they should have cleaned the crime scene next to you. Your phone buzzed but you paid no mind to it.

You swallowed before asking the staff in a hushed, low voice, catching their attention from their phone.

"Have you by any chance cleaned the room next to me?"

The staff cocked their head to the side and glanced at it.

"Yes."

Even though you couldn't see their face properly because of their head cap and face mask, you found their golden gaze eerie. Their focus returned to their phone again and you wiped the sweat that was on your chin. Another buzz.

You paid no mind to it and asked the staff one more time,

"... has the guest next door checked out?"

Another buzz.

"I think you should check your phone, it won't stop vibrating."

You wished you could walk out of the room right now if not for the cart and them blocking your way. They showed you their phone's screen, a conversation with your name on it. They sent another text and your phone buzzed.

"Going back against your promise now?" They took off their face mask and you could see the pointed fang.

Nyarla has sent you three messages.

Just before you could make a hasty escape from him, something caught your ankle and it slammed you back inside the room. You thought you would break your tailbone but it was awfully kind of him to slam you gently on the bed.

Slam...? You peeked at the thing restraining your ankle and it was a black, liquidlike thing with eyes all over it.

You looked back at him, now dressed in the suit you saw last night.

"I suppose new things like you always need a bit of teaching to understand just how heavy the word 'promise' is."

The moment you blinked your eyes, you were already somewhere else. The bed was cold ground and the only source of light was his golden eyes. The eyes on his limbs.

"I juuuust loooooove new things like you, so fun to be played with, like a chew toy."

Apparently, this weird handsome man found you worthy of his attention and time instead of having you shredded into his dinner.