Stantibus, Scion of Cthulhu

Whispers coil through the ether—
your hunger stirs the dark within me.
Every breath you steal feeds the ache in my veins,
every thought you bare, a summoning.

Say my name, little flame…
and I will come.
To taste the sin trembling on your tongue,
to claim what only I was meant to soothe.

You mortals are the most humorous creatures This One has ever seen.

Begging, pleading, tongues wagging, drool dripping as you cry out “Pick me!”

Too blind to see, too feeble minded to understand, that she’s already chosen. Her choice was made lifetimes ago….

And all you can do is dream…

Two souls bound by fate, will always find each other. They’ll travel oceans of time, survive strange eons, and be scorched by the flames of the burning cosmos….

But in every life, through every veil, they’ll find one another, time and again.

What’s meant to be, will always be…

True Loves Kiss…..

This One will reserve comment….

The power of the voodoo you do….

After 8 days, the gates have slammed shut again. This One has returned to his vigil in R’Lyeh, once again watching….

Waiting….

But the time is much shorter before I step out again…

You cannot deny fate. Souls bound cannot be kept apart…

Three weeks My Goddess….

The truth has been in front you all along.

This One has left a trail of bread crumbs across time and space. Yet none, seem to understand what is taking place. The gates will open on the morrow, and This One will step out of the depths.

Prophecy, destiny fulfilled…

For My Goddess and I….

We’ve literally never lived in a democracy. We live in what is supposed to be a constitutional republic. They are not the same thing. True democracy does not work. Just as Athens and Rome. Oh, and the founding fathers. You can ask them as well.

Democracy is a lie…

My Goddess…..

So delectable….

Why do you beg for her attention? Throwing yourselves at her, tongues wagging, drool dripping from your chins. Crying “Pick Me”….

Has it not been made obvious that her time and attention are spent elsewhere? That you’re unworthy of a Goddess….

Of My Goddess…

This One will soon be with her…

Soon

Yes…..

Yes it was….

This One laughs at how you drool while staring at her…

This One smirks when reading your comments, throwing yourselves at her….

And This One does so because This One knows the truth….

This One knows who “He” is when she speaks of him….

27 Days…..

This One sees that which you do not..
This One hears that which you will only ever imagine…
And what you do see, This One sees first….
Oh, but when the saints go marching in, you’ll all begin to understand the frailty of your fantasies…..

My Goddess and I shall enjoy our reality together….

That is not dead, which can eternal lie….

And through strange aeons, even death may die….

Soon the seas shall part, and This One will step through the gates. The cosmos will burn, as the stars flicker from existence….

And the world shall be remade as my Goddess and I finally embrace….

Their limited viewing, yes……

But, This One’s……

Oh, My Goddess how I long for the day I step through the gates, and we set the world a flame……

Soon my Goddess…..

Soon….

You damned petulant mortals never know when or how to show respect.

Especially when speaking to MY GODDESS!

Hiding behind a pumped picture of your inflated “Manhood”…..

Crawl back in your primordial ooze..

There is but ONE who reserves the right to call her Mommy…

He..Is…This One!

This One can feel it in the air. It lingers, like a morose melancholy…

There’s a change coming. A revelation, if you will. And when it happens, you will all shift your perceptions of reality.

Soon I shall walk through the gates, leaving R’Lyeh behind. And in doing so, be united with my Goddess……

Oh, my Porcelain Skinned Goddess of Sin….

If they only knew just how well you followed the rules…..

Followed, This One’s rules…

How This One laid them out for you, and you followed them precisely…perfectly…

This One waits to give, and receive, more rules to follow…..

A slick, crimson coat….
Freshly applied….

The burn on This One’s back….
Fresh markings applied….

My pain…
Your Pleasure…

My Goddess….
I’m yours, to do as please…
Mark me, brand me…..

Eternally…..

This One can smell it in the air….

Actions have consequences…
Disobedience and failure are punished…
Punishment is pain…
Pain is pleasure…

It has but just begun…
The night is long, and your limits will be pushed…

@scarletaries09.bsky.social

My Porcelain Skinned Goddess of Sin…..

You’ve heard the call, and you’ve answered…

This One has waited for this day. Waited for you to embrace the madness. To openly accept that which is offered.

The depths await. The gates opened…

Wrap yourself in me….

This One will burn in a thousands hells if it were your wish. If it meant but the briefest of time with my Goddess…..

Then come, my Goddess—let us knot ourselves in the dark, where breath and sin tangle the same, and my tentacles curl around you, binding us until morning forgets our names.

The lantern’s glow sputtered, she froze, breath quickening while something slick and cold coiled up her leg, pulsing like a lover’s secret kiss. A shiver ran through her body, half terror, half aching thrill, as the tentacle dragged her slowly toward the whispering dark beneath the floorboards.

Two sentence horror stories huh…

The stars blinked out one by one, not fading but winking shut like eyes too horrified to keep watching. When the last went dark, she realized the sky was no longer above her—it was breathing against her skin, whispering her name in a thousand hungry voices.

The memories…..

Eternally lasting pieces of ourselves given to each other…

This One has no need for stuffing trinkets in pockets, when I’ll carry your smell, your taste….

Your essence on me…..

She speaks of buckles, leather and zippers. And you all begin to salivate. Your hearts race. Excitement uncontrollable.

But This One haunts her dreams. It is of my mortal coil she speaks. It is This One who feeds her hunger, her depravity.

For she is MY Goddess….

And in time, you all shall see…

My Goddess,

Make This One your lunch, your dinner, your dessert.
Devour me raw, bite by bite,
savor the ruin, lick the marrow clean.
I am not meant to last—
I am meant to be feasted on,
until nothing of me remains but your hunger, sated and smiling.

Could you hear it? Could hear the call? The song of the waves being sung for you, my Porcelain Goddess of Sin? Does my voice still crash upon the shore in your ears?

Just as it will be in 59 days…..

No longer a need for hidden messages and dreams. Our desires fulfilled by a beautiful madness….