Calf Cover & CO

They/she/he for the host Horror Blog ✦ SCP Foundation ✦ Alagadda Feel free to share our art, espesially with the link to this blog! 🦇 Anti-AI, AI users fuck off 🦇

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I'm making an Alagadda Choose-Your-Own-Adventure quiz! Almost finished the text part, so now it's time to find or/and draw some pretty Alagaddian views (o゜▽゜)o☆

Looking good so far! But I really, really hate the censor on this site and apologize for it. Just let me say goddamn words, you fucking algorithm-obsessed piece of junk.

⊰∙☽༓☾∙⊱  

P. S. I will seek art here on Tumblr to put in my quiz, and will ask artists' permission and desired credits (Tumblr-blog? Twitter-name? Insta-name? - any and many that the artist will prefer). So please, don't freak up (；′⌒`)

[pumpkincryptid]

Anyone got Alagadda music playlists they could share? Please I can't think of my own.

It can be the general place Alagadda, it can be the 4 Lords, it can be Lord specific, it can be the hanged kind, it can be the Ambassador, I just need music with Alagadda vibes

[calf-cover]

It took some time, but - I was able to gather my personal favorites with links. Enjoy!

Hanged King: I organased these ones on a scale from "songs about an eldrich nightmare god" to "songs about a bad or/and struggling man, turning into an eldrich nightmare god". P.S. On the second listening - it turned out that in this order it a plot about a god recalling and mourning its mortal past - so maybe the Hanged King's name is truly hanted and infects all that it touches with a narrative, damn.

Black Sabbath - Master Of Insanity (under the mask, there will be - the Master of Insanityyyyyyyyyyeaaaaa)

arai tasuku - Lizzy's delights (TW: VERY loud)

arai tasuku - Twisted Apple trees

arai tasuku - Nightmare circus feat. Itaru Baba

arai tasuku - Dear Alice

arai tasuku - Fuck off Aliceeeeeee feat. Itaru Baba

Jim Yosef - King of Hearts (ft. Scarlett)

Dirt Poor Robins - Babylon

Mother Mother - Burning Pile

Lemon Demon - When He Died

The Ambassador of Alagadda: Mix of cunty and existentialy nightmarish songs about being nothing, being haunted, being haunted but you kinda deserve it, and being at the top of the world at a too high cost. You can add "Dear Alice" pair of songs from the Hanged King playlist if you feel like it.

Anya Nami - Old Doll (voice cover)

Dead Man's Bones - In The Room Where You Sleep

arai tasuku - C is for Colleen who wasted away

Kikuo - Waltz of Malice (this caver is in my favorites)

Master Mirror - Ashley Serena

Raichel Rose Mitchell - Carnaval

AViVA - GRRRLS

Santigold - GO!

Baby Bugs - Autotheist (TW: Religious trauma)

Jamine Paige - ROT FOR CLOUT (feat. Kasane Teto)

Black Lord, Nigredo: Rot, manipulation and distruction. Songs strait from beneagh the dark rock soil, where the evil was supposed to be forever forgotten. The lord that lost its flesh and regals - and yet, it is free, and it never was happier.

Will Wood and the Tapeworms - Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going in!

Mother Mother - Wrecking Ball

The Circus Contraption Band - If I Told You Once (TW: graphic description of suicide, handging, and possibly implied necrophilia)

The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra - Little Birds ft. Gloom Darkheart

The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra - Marionette

BLVCK CEILING - davey drawings

Nero's Day at Disneyland - Mascara Running Everywhere

Psychic Rites - Killer (TW: A mummified corpse on a thumbnail)

White Lord, Albedo: Mostly wizardy and cold music, sometimes with words, or some ortodox chirch motifs. Make you think about alchemy or horrific magical manipulations. They feel like a louring sea.

± DITA REDRUM – V ±

ΔXIUS LIИK & ножевые ранения – NНΞЙ

Ведьмина Поляна & ножевые ранения – Ведьма

Catslash – Moon Spells

Dr. Rader – Save Yourself

SKYL1NK - The Wizard

Boards of Canada - Music Is Math

Crystal Castles - Violent Dreams (Sidewalks and Skeletons REMIX)

NEDOSTUPNOSTЬ - NEDOSTUPNOSTЬ III

polnalyubvi - Девочка и Море (TW: suicide)

Yellow Lord, Citrinitas:

Maybe all lords are the union of opposites, as all opposites are having a grain of their counterpart inside. Diligence can be apathetic and so, deciduous. Mirth can be forced into despair, and Anguish can result in triumph. And so, Hatred can mask as love, and love be worse than hatred. If the SCP-6224 told us anything, that is there no one in Alagadda who would be more passionate about its projects, than the Great Maestro, the Bearer of the Mask of Hatred.

Jyc Row - Aqasha, Goddess of Destruction (feat. Shelley Harland)

Sagan Hawkes - What Lies Within It (Basilisk 2000 is a very Citrinitas&Albedo themed project, check it out)

MUGL - Ne Otdam

Åpostol – λucifer's hatred

SLAMER - ฿ΣΣŽ Ī№ ★ ŦĦΣ ₮ƦÅǷ (TW: trypophobia)

††† (Crosses) - Bitches Brew [Sidewalks and Skeletons REMIX]

Steampianist - Wag Kang Bibitaw - Feat. Gumi

zero435 - Hatred of God

Inkubus Sukkubus - Vlad

arai tasuku - Been a While feat. coma

Red Lord, Rubedo: Lots of blood, lots of fun, if someone getting a kick out of its situation - it's Rubedo, the pinicle of self-actualisation and hedonizm. It can feel love, and sympathy, and even regret - almost no Alagaddian has this emotion. But, it chooses not to. You can't make a whine vithout some blood, so sorry, but you go into a comically oversized meat grinder. Enjoy!

Jerma Remix: THE MEAT GRINDER

The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra - One by One ft. Gloom Darkheart

Madds Buckley - The Red Means I Love You

Kikuo - Red ridinghood's Wolf

Avenged Sevenfold - A Little Piece Of Heaven (TW: Necrophilia, Comically Graphic Murder, lots of swearing)

Tally Hall - Turn The Lights Off

WIFI Princess - Passion

If you want some allagadish semi-classical music, check out Saint Preux - he's AWESOME. And arai tasuku & Mili - Holy and Darkness is a long one and sounds like Alagadda, meshed up together pieses of dream over someone long forgotten and lost trying to talk to you, so you not end up like they did.

[pumpkincryptid]

MAY YOU BE BLESSED WITH HAPPINESS FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE, THANK YOU SO MUCH

[calf-cover]

No problem! 💛🤍🖤❤

[pumpkincryptid]

Anyone got Alagadda music playlists they could share? Please I can't think of my own.

It can be the general place Alagadda, it can be the 4 Lords, it can be Lord specific, it can be the hanged kind, it can be the Ambassador, I just need music with Alagadda vibes

[calf-cover]

It took some time, but - I was able to gather my personal favorites with links. Enjoy!

Hanged King: I organased these ones on a scale from "songs about an eldrich nightmare god" to "songs about a bad or/and struggling man, turning into an eldrich nightmare god". P.S. On the second listening - it turned out that in this order it a plot about a god recalling and mourning its mortal past - so maybe the Hanged King's name is truly hanted and infects all that it touches with a narrative, damn.

Black Sabbath - Master Of Insanity (under the mask, there will be - the Master of Insanityyyyyyyyyyeaaaaa)

arai tasuku - Lizzy's delights (TW: VERY loud)

arai tasuku - Twisted Apple trees

arai tasuku - Nightmare circus feat. Itaru Baba

arai tasuku - Dear Alice

arai tasuku - Fuck off Aliceeeeeee feat. Itaru Baba

Jim Yosef - King of Hearts (ft. Scarlett)

Dirt Poor Robins - Babylon

Mother Mother - Burning Pile

Lemon Demon - When He Died

The Ambassador of Alagadda: Mix of cunty and existentialy nightmarish songs about being nothing, being haunted, being haunted but you kinda deserve it, and being at the top of the world at a too high cost. You can add "Dear Alice" pair of songs from the Hanged King playlist if you feel like it.

Anya Nami - Old Doll (voice cover)

Dead Man's Bones - In The Room Where You Sleep

arai tasuku - C is for Colleen who wasted away

Kikuo - Waltz of Malice (this caver is in my favorites)

Master Mirror - Ashley Serena

Raichel Rose Mitchell - Carnaval

AViVA - GRRRLS

Santigold - GO!

Baby Bugs - Autotheist (TW: Religious trauma)

Jamine Paige - ROT FOR CLOUT (feat. Kasane Teto)

Black Lord, Nigredo: Rot, manipulation and distruction. Songs strait from beneagh the dark rock soil, where the evil was supposed to be forever forgotten. The lord that lost its flesh and regals - and yet, it is free, and it never was happier.

Will Wood and the Tapeworms - Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going in!

Mother Mother - Wrecking Ball

The Circus Contraption Band - If I Told You Once (TW: graphic description of suicide, handging, and possibly implied necrophilia)

The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra - Little Birds ft. Gloom Darkheart

The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra - Marionette

BLVCK CEILING - davey drawings

Nero's Day at Disneyland - Mascara Running Everywhere

Psychic Rites - Killer (TW: A mummified corpse on a thumbnail)

White Lord, Albedo: Mostly wizardy and cold music, sometimes with words, or some ortodox chirch motifs. Make you think about alchemy or horrific magical manipulations. They feel like a louring sea.

± DITA REDRUM – V ±

ΔXIUS LIИK & ножевые ранения – NНΞЙ

Ведьмина Поляна & ножевые ранения – Ведьма

Catslash – Moon Spells

Dr. Rader – Save Yourself

SKYL1NK - The Wizard

Boards of Canada - Music Is Math

Crystal Castles - Violent Dreams (Sidewalks and Skeletons REMIX)

NEDOSTUPNOSTЬ - NEDOSTUPNOSTЬ III

polnalyubvi - Девочка и Море (TW: suicide)

Yellow Lord, Citrinitas:

Maybe all lords are the union of opposites, as all opposites are having a grain of their counterpart inside. Diligence can be apathetic and so, deciduous. Mirth can be forced into despair, and Anguish can result in triumph. And so, Hatred can mask as love, and love be worse than hatred. If the SCP-6224 told us anything, that is there no one in Alagadda who would be more passionate about its projects, than the Great Maestro, the Bearer of the Mask of Hatred.

Jyc Row - Aqasha, Goddess of Destruction (feat. Shelley Harland)

Sagan Hawkes - What Lies Within It (Basilisk 2000 is a very Citrinitas&Albedo themed project, check it out)

MUGL - Ne Otdam

Åpostol – λucifer's hatred

SLAMER - ฿ΣΣŽ Ī№ ★ ŦĦΣ ₮ƦÅǷ (TW: trypophobia)

††† (Crosses) - Bitches Brew [Sidewalks and Skeletons REMIX]

Steampianist - Wag Kang Bibitaw - Feat. Gumi

zero435 - Hatred of God

Inkubus Sukkubus - Vlad

arai tasuku - Been a While feat. coma

Red Lord, Rubedo: Lots of blood, lots of fun, if someone getting a kick out of its situation - it's Rubedo, the pinicle of self-actualisation and hedonizm. It can feel love, and sympathy, and even regret - almost no Alagaddian has this emotion. But, it chooses not to. You can't make a whine vithout some blood, so sorry, but you go into a comically oversized meat grinder. Enjoy!

Jerma Remix: THE MEAT GRINDER

The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra - One by One ft. Gloom Darkheart

Madds Buckley - The Red Means I Love You

Kikuo - Red ridinghood's Wolf

Avenged Sevenfold - A Little Piece Of Heaven (TW: Necrophilia, Comically Graphic Murder, lots of swearing)

Tally Hall - Turn The Lights Off

WIFI Princess - Passion

If you want some allagadish semi-classical music, check out Saint Preux - he's AWESOME. And arai tasuku & Mili - Holy and Darkness is a long one and sounds like Alagadda, meshed up together pieses of dream over someone long forgotten and lost trying to talk to you, so you not end up like they did.

[calf-cover]

In the walls, in the streets, in clothes and gardens and foods, reshaped and altered to fit a new purpose. It's hard to say if your remains still hold any of your personhood, but it's okay. You don't need to understand what you are anymore.

Rest now, and let the town invent yourself for you. You were a good puppet.

ENDING 7: SACRIFICE

[proth-blog]

Anguish and his daugther in the mythos au, sometimes she grows tired if his fea ass, he is a menace and won’t stop being one unfortunatly for everyone

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Spray that pest

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Alagadda Tumblr, wake up. Your dream about getting a find-footage SCP-701 film had come true

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Once upon a time they were all together and well.

The four siblings from Death and the Doctors hub. Left to right - Surgeon, Therapist, Anesthesiologist, and Diagnostician. This hub is what inspired me to imagine SCP-049 as its own creature(s).

Born out of buried remains, Children of the Barrow are made of human flesh, but were never human. Their touch is deadly to animals, and to a slightly lesser extent to a plant life, and they have no control over it. However, it is easily blocked by a sufficient layer of fabric. If several plague doctors shared the grave, they would consider each other siblings. The family bonds will presist for their whole long lives.

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The Many Faces of the Ambassador

Spooky season is not over.

In some tales Ambassador exhibits the ability to shapeshift, and in almost all of their apperances - to at least manipulate the perseption of the whitnesses. This is what formed the basis for their depictions when I started writing mine story about Alagadda. And made it angsty!

ACCESS GRANTED_

Pretas are restless ghosts from Buddhist and Hindu mythology, tormented by an insatiable hunger. Reincarnation as them is associated with excessive earthly attachments, anger, greed and in some iterations - grief. Their throats are narrow as an eye of a needle, making eating an unbearable torture, and the food that manages to reach their wast as a country insides only worsens their suffering. Pretas are often depicted as mummified corpses with swollen bellies, but occasionally can change their shapes and faces to scare people they choose to bother. Experiencing an incredible hunger, they wander endlessly in search of anything that can satisfy it.

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The shards of your old face are grinding on your broken teeth

It's spooky season!

An illustration for a mini-chapter of "Thousand and One More to Join". Alagadda has fallen, and the King's fateful servant and friend struggles to accept the new normal.

Word count: 1050 TW: Body-horror, Self Harm, Violence, Mentions of sex, graphic description of corpses, gore, worms and bug infestation. Name: A̶̲̪̎̆̕L̶̡̛̞̜̂ʘ̫̫̹̙̬̥N̸̷̨̦̈̽Ḙ̡̧̭̓̅

The stone has never felt so soft, lumpy as scales, slick as seabed. The palace merged with the prison, and the sky mixed with the firmament of earth. I tried to crawl, and got to my feet, and went up, and crawled down, and found tower steps in the dungeon, and a rough earthen floor in the celebration hall, and tried every fake painted door, and basked in the flames dancing on the walls.

Sometimes the path led me to the street and curled between the bare trees. But the scarlet-soaked ground was sinking in gleaming fog, and the tall bars kept me from jumping to it. I lifted my head in search of familiar stars, but every time all I saw were only horrid black stripes cutting apart the burning sky, and I knew that we were falling so fast that even the luminaries themselves could not keep up with us.

Sometimes I felt like I would wake up in my bed, unharmed and young. As if all of it – the dungeon, the torture, the death – was nothing but a grotesque nightmare. And the birds will sing on the balcony I sit on, and ahead there will be years of travel, festivities, performances, and my advice will be wise, and people will look at me like on a kind star, and in an old age I will teach oratory, and quietly die with a smile on my face, surrounded by ones I guided.

Bright like the sun itself, I see His children there too. His blood and flesh, the memory of my faithful service. My mind travels to His fɑce on the day we became close - the sight of a trembling, tired smile makes me choke on my own bile.

Sometimes I met the others. Wandering in the darkness, hidden behind masks, they did not respond to my pathetic attempts at speech. When there were many, they teared each other in an act of torture, devourment and lust. The death tremor merged with the cramps of pleasure, and I looked away; with shards of my old face grinding on my teeth.

Several times I passed by my own tongue - a patch of yellowed flesh, hollowed like a sea sponge. Always anywhere else, but the steps where I left it. My flesh got rid of the wriggling worms some time ago, but the mind remembered scraping and swarming under my skin. How I tried to squeeze them out with bumpy fingers and beat the riddled flesh against the walls and floors, how I rubbed my unbearably swollen temples against the arms of His throne while He sobbed and shook in silence.

Sometimes, exhausted, I watched Him drive splinters under His fingernails and break bones on His chains, trying to reach out to me with a withered hand.

Soon, however, I found a way out of my misfortune. In the kitchen, among the walls curved like a snail shell and between merged into multifaceted, multi-legged abominations of utensils, I found a blazing stove. Inside it, my salvation - an untouched pot of boiling water, stood on a hot fire.

My skin turned scarlet and glossy as an open wound, then gray and devoid of color. The remnants of my clothes tightened like a net, entangling me like roots. Blood hissed, oozing from the blisters, fat melted and dripped onto the floor. When I dropped the empty vessel, I heard nothing, but a blissful silence ringing in the arches of my skull. For an ecstatic eternity I laid in the corner, stroking the hushed flesh in felicity and rapture, finally alone in my own skin.

He has screamed a lot since. The walls were shaking, though his voice was hardly a wheeze. Disgust and cold replaced my soul, and dark joy played in the threads of my new being when I looked at His broken figure. I would cry if only I had tears, and screamed, if I still had living lungs.

And yet the distant, detached warmth huddled in my chest when I took His weak hand. He was quiet, and His facə - a wriggling ghost, curling and melting like blood in a river, dripped on His chest in clear droplets and wavering smoke.

I tried to say that everything would be fine, but my broken jaws wouldn't obey. As loud as possible, as if He could hear mine thoughts, I thought that we couldn't fall forever and no matter where we may end up, we will find kind people.

I wanted to ask him why he did this. Why am I still here. For what terrible misstep was I turned into a walking corpse, in what hell do we go for his own sins. Once I hit him, pushed him deeper on long needles, painted black iron with his rotten blood. Next moment I collapsed to my knees, sobbing and hiding my face into his tattered clothes, begging for forgiveness.

An empty cup lies on the floor beside His writhing body. I stare, unable to look or get away - my legs buckling like made of rags, shoes stolen for gems and golden thread an eternity ago. Well, bet the thieves weren't enjoying the loot for too long as their blood gushed through the pores.

Maybe it's really a dream - I'm so endlessly, unbearably, hopelessly tired. This body should not hold the soul, should not heal its wounds. But the torn skin comes back together, the bursting flesh fuses anew, and the shards in my legs turn into new bones. Perhaps I just need to sleep. Just lie down against the wall, cover myself from the sight and sound with hands, and let the delirium take me away from here; a tidal wave taking the ship into darkness, to the endless stars sparkling in the skies overboard.

I dream of a man in a tiny shack. Images and writing are strewn across his bed, ink soaks the sheets, and a bolt holds back the door. Sensing someone else in a room, he turns away from the window, yet freezes halfway through. He whispers nonsense, wagging his head to shake off the feeling, his lips are dry, his eyes are bloodshot. And when he meets my gaze, a heart-wrenching scream cuts through the silence of the night.

[seyph]

Another bunch of october daily drawings :

10. Are We Cool Yet (vaguely inspired by one of my tales taking place during May 68)

(Other drawings under the cut)

11. SCP-4790

12. The Ambrose restaurants

13. SCP-143-FR

14. EMBARGO (this one is a bit of a deviation in the challenge lol)

15. Gendastrerie nationale (text in french)

16. Gilbert the intern (a running gag in the -FR branch)

17. Shark Punching Center

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Contrary to ostentatious power and arrogance, the appearance of the Ambassador is largely dictated by the ideas, expectations and wishes of a figure who summons them.

Despite this, they hold on to some of their traits zealously, regardless of the consequences, although some traits are much harder to preserve than others. But they are struggling. Even if they know that in the end all this will go away and only the only thing left will be the rot.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

RUS: Тысяча и ещё один. Глава 2, Упавшая звезда.

Finally it back. My work, my child!! Can't wait to make this smug high heels fucker to experience Angst. They have it commin'.

Somebody will suffer greately.

[calf-cover]

Help

That, like, an imp. She's cute, I like her. Bet it's good with Tarot and №1 in knitting cute spider silk trinkets. Idk how to name her.

Don't mind two Kings making faces, it's not about them.

[tumblers-top-animals]

tumblrs favourite bunny r1p3

Dotty (animal crossing)

scp 524

Voting ended onOct 13, 2025

[calf-cover]

Guys. Please.

[calf-cover]

Something we're going around the young prince. How does the Ambassador treat the prince? How does the prince feel being around the Ambassador without supervision?

Transcription: Nereya, the Prince's wet nurse: "...And that all. Need to go and pee... And sleep... And take a bath... Thank for the rose, old pal. Any help is welcomed. (Can't believe you're not in prison tho.)" Ambassador: "Cursed, cursed land! Something's awry, wicked. Yet the task at hands is eas-" Prince: -Nom- 🌹

Eldritch horror vs the challenge of supervising a one-year-old child. Who will win?

⊰────── ≪⋅•◦☽✴☾◦•⋅≫──────⊱

They had never had to look after a child before. It was always done by others, they had important things to do, and no one would ever entrust a cub to a complete stranger. Something is very wrong with this place.

...Meanwhile, the little Prince is just very happy with all this new attention. And yanking all these dangling outfit trinkets is so much fun.

⤜Theology of a Snake ask⤛

Nereya, the the King's second cousin. A young 20-year-old noblewoman who was suggested as a wet nurse after losing her own pregnancy. What could move her family closer to the throne than raising the heir himself? Truly, what a pity it is that she's already married out.

She just wants it all to finally be over. She misses her partner.

Also I twicked the Teology of Snake's Ambassador design, srry

[calf-cover]

The new Alagadda article looks stunning!

there are spoilers under, be carefull

I'm dying like thousands and thousands of victims of a cursed Alagadda sitcom, staged to conceive an impossible child (don't ask).

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...Would you still love me if I was stinky and bird?

I draw some shit, and now it is your problem. "Death and The Doctors" is one of the most iconic hubs, not gonna lie. Like, imagine if there were just a bunch of SCP-049 running around causing chaos. Sounds like a dream.

Wanna some headcanons?

❃ Their sweat smells of spicy herbal ointment and garlic to to ward off blood-sucking insects. Not only such vermins could carry the plague, but the intense immune system of Doctors does not perceive their bites well - almost all of them are allergic.

❃ Each plague doctor's mask can be made of different materials, from bone to dense muscle fibers and tooth enamel. Although they don't have hair, eyelashes, or nails, their mask can sometimes consist of keratin too.

❃ "Doctor" is the default name these creatures give themselves. However, when several Doctors meet each other, they find themselfes forced to be more creative.

[calf-cover]

Angel? Animal? The light at the end of the tunnel? Although Small Death appears in many forms to the creatures it takes, its true form remains elusive. For a long time it had a habit of bringing its brothers in its own petty quarrels, resulting in a disproportionate justice for poor reckless mortals.

The "design" and shapeshifting abilities of this diva are significantly inspired by by Ekh from the old cartoon "Wow, a Talking Fish!". Honestly, Small Death partially shares this archetype too, it's such a jerk I love them.