#it would have a cult following of some size

[maddie-grove]

I rewatched The Butterfly Effect a couple weeks ago (or, rather, watched it all the way through for the first time because it was always on cable when I was a teen but I only saw it in pieces), and (a) it’s pretty solid (I really dislike it in terms of the messages it sends but I found it compelling), (b) I’m not surprised that it was critically panned (Goofy Sitcom Actor/TV Prankster in ACEs: the Movie would have been a hard sell at any time, but the mid-2000s was maybe the worst possible time), and (c) I’m surprised it made so much money (it’s so relentlessly depressing and everyone seemed to hate it so much at the time).

[itadorey]

𝐥𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭 — geto suguru

pairing: cult leader!geto x fem!reader summary: your job as an investigative journalist leads you to infiltrate the time vessel association in search of a good article. but you get more than you bargained for when you catch the attention of geto suguru, the charismatic leader of of the organization that seems more like a cult. notes: cult leader!geto, fem reader, reader is an investigative journalist, reader is wearing a dress, inspired by a chem class i took + s4e3 of criminal minds, geto has a test of loyalty involving the drinking of allegedly poisoned wine but it's fake (nothing about it is real and he participates), he is manipulative but not about the sex. the sex is consensual! he is not the nicest man in this, vaginal fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, marking, teasing/mocking, he's kinda mean + rough, lmk if i forgot anything! wc: ~7.4k

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 + 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

there are many words that are used to describe the leader of the time vessel association: intelligent, cunning, beguiling.

geto suguru was not someone to be taken lightly, especially after having managed to take over the association and quadruple it in size over the course of a couple of years. when you had taken on the assignment, you had known virtually nothing about them or the man in charge.

now, after nearly six months of investigative work, you knew of another word that could be used to describe the enigmatic geto suguru.

handsome.

joining the time vessel association was easy. their purpose was unclear to the rest of the country, and after giving a fake sob story and signing a few forms, you had been welcomed in with open arms. your life within the association was admittedly cozy, and you had uncovered nothing suspicious or interesting for your first few weeks within joining the organization. until you met geto suguru.

a charming smile was the first thing that filled your vision when you stumbled into someone, followed by a pair of warm eyes and handsome features framed by silky, black hair. you had immediately stiffened, back straightening as you let a soft smile appear on your face as you apologized.

"i'm sorry, i should watch where i'm going," you had said with a laugh, bowing your head slightly before stepping to the side.

"you should be more respectful," the light-haired woman beside the man had sang, looking you up and down before scoffing lightly.

"now, now, suda," the man had said. "there's no need to be so harsh with our new recruits."

upon noticing the confused look on your face, the man had laughed lightly, tilting his head towards you before speaking. "my name is geto suguru. it is an honor to make your acquaintance."

you had uttered your fake name after his own words, earning a knowing smile from geto before you hastily excused yourself. he had waved you off with a flick of his wrist, dark eyes watching as you walked away before he turned to ask suda for more information on you. the woman had hesitated slightly before looking through her tablet, rattling off your information as geto listened.

the two of them had stood silently in the hallway for a few minutes, a scowl appearing on suda's face when geto finally spoke.

"invite her to my office for tea. i would like to speak with her some more."

the first time you had tea with geto, you had been a nervous wreck.

the sudden invitation had left you wondering if he knew who you truly were, and your hands had trembled slightly whenever you had moved to bring your teacup to your mouth. his sharp gaze had only added to your nerves, and you did your best to avoid his eyes in an attempt to keep your composure. you kept reminding yourself that you had chosen the career of an investigative journalist for a reason, and you had taken multiple precautions to ensure that your real identity remained hidden.

once you got used to geto's presence, you realized how useful your meetings with him were. he was interested in anything and everything you had to say, and a slight part of you felt guilty knowing that everything you told him was a lie. in return, he was more open with you than you expected him to be, and you did your best to ask questions about the association without drawing any unwanted attention to you.

in a matter of weeks, you had learned a lot about the time vessel association. you had learned about the internal fighting that had existed before geto assumed power, and how he had been quick to quell all conflicts and earn everyone's respect. you had also learned that there were only a select few members that geto seems to trust, but you hadn't figured out why just yet. the biggest piece of information you had learned however, was that geto was unnaturally charming.

a simple compliment from him always had your face heating up, and you took great pleasure in the way his eyes seemed to follow your legs whenever you crossed one over the other. you enjoyed the way he took your tea recommendations seriously, and the way his gaze seemed to linger on your lips as you regaled him with another story about your life before joining the association.

but no matter how attractive geto suguru was, you had to constantly remind yourself that it was in his nature to be so charismatic. after all, he was the leader of what was quickly becoming the largest cult in japan.

you made sure to take meticulous notes about your interactions with geto every time they happened, whether it be the private moments in his office, or the casual conversations in public. the green folder was filled with months of information, and you took extra care to hide it under a loose floorboard under your bed to ensure that no one could find it.

a part of you was suspicious about how friendly geto was towards you, and you found yourself wondering if a man such as him could actually be so easily swayed by personal feelings. that is, if that's what he felt towards you at all.

you tried to convince yourself that he truly did like you; that you had managed to catch his attention the very first day you met him due to your clumsiness. but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was onto you, and so you quickly made arrangements with your editor to finally finish your infiltration, the both of you agreeing that six months worth of information was more than enough to write an exposé on the time vessel association.

but your luck could only stretch so far, leading to this very moment where you find yourself face to face with suda manami, a pleasant smile on her face as she stood outside your door.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you study her vacant expression. "does geto need something from me?"

"i can assure you that geto does not need anything from you," suda hisses, her eyes crinkling as her smile widens. "but he is calling an immediate meeting of all the present members of the association. i suggest you make your way to the conference room immediately."

you give her a hesitant nod, slipping out of your room before following behind her. she's silent the entire way, only pausing a few doors away from the conference room and motioning for you to keep going with a wave of her hand.

the air inside the conference hall is stifling, the majority of the seats being filled as people wait for something unknown.

you slide into an empty seat near the front, making sure to sit on the end of the row as you look around. your hands flutter about, smoothing your dress down over your thighs as you look for geto, trying to ignore the tense atmosphere that's engulfed the room.

hushed conversations take place all around you, and you strain your ears as you attempt to eavesdrop and figure out if anyone knows why a gathering had suddenly been called. there is no sign of the long, black hair you're currently trying to find, and you slump in your seat when you realize that he hasn't even arrived yet.

silence falls over the hall the moment a figure walks onstage, black robes fluttering about his legs as he makes his way towards the center. you breathe in sharply when your eyes land on him, and you watch as he takes a cursory glance around the hall. his gaze stops briefly on you, and your heart stutters when his lips turn up the slightest bit upon seeing you.

"thank you for convening on such short notice," geto says, his voice low and smooth as he gives his audience a pleasant, close-eyed smile. "it is my pleasure to announce that we have reached our most recent recruitment goal."

geto pauses as cheers fill the room, and he nods good-naturedly as he waits for the noise to die down. he signals to the people standing on the sidelines, and you flinch lightly when one approaches you, gently pressing a black, plastic wine glass into your hand before moving down the row.

"as a result," geto continues, the smile still present on his face. "we shall celebrate tonight. we will start with our finest wine, and continue with a traditional feast afterwards."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, looking down at the deep red wine currently being held in your hand. your eyebrows knit together, trying to recall if geto had mentioned anything about recruitment goals in your previous interactions. your shoulders tense when you take a glance around the room, seeing all other organization members take a swig from their cups without hesitation.

a cold chill runs down your spine when you turn your gaze back to the front, immediately meeting geto's dark stare. his eyes are focused solely on you, and he refuses to look away as he waits for you to make a move. you can feel your hand trembling as you clutch your cup, and you force what you hope is a coy grin onto your face as you lift your glass towards geto.

he grins back at you, his expression sharp and dangerous as he nods his head in encouragement. you press your lips to the rim of the cup, forcing yourself to remain calm and keep your lips clamped shut as you feel the liquid slosh against your mouth.

a satisfied nod is all you receive from geto before he looks away, and you waste no time before placing your cup on the ground, making sure that you tuck it behind one of the wooden legs of your chair. your hands are still shaking when geto speaks once more, a shining metal goblet now in his hand.

"it brings my heart such joy to see us all come together in celebration," geto proclaims, pausing to raise his glass. the lively atmosphere in the hall dissipates when his smile falls, and you can't fight the uneasiness creeping up your spine. "but i am afraid i also have some unfortunate news. it has come to my attention that we have a traitor amongst our ranks, someone who is not committed to the cause we stand for."

murmurs instantly fill the hall, and you can feel the ice creeping through your veins as you straighten up in your seat. you catch sight of suda glancing your way, and you do your best to keep your expression neutral, your stomach twisting with anxiety as wait with bated breath for geto's next words. confused expressions surround you, and you do your best to imitate them in an attempt to calm yourself down.

"this is why, the wine you've drank tonight has been poisoned."

you feel your heart leap into your throat at geto's words, and you silently watch as geto raises his cup to his lips before taking a deep drink. his lips are stained red when he hands his cup to suda, and you find yourself unable to look away even as panicked murmurs start arising all around you.

"i have the antidote, of course," geto says, a smile on his face as he scans the crowd. "it's ready to be handed out, once the traitor steps forward. you have five minutes until we all die."

there's a whole minute of silence as everyone tries to process geto's words, and you find yourself looking down as you stare towards your full cup of wine. your whole body trembles as you shut your eyes, and you find yourself wondering if geto had been telling the truth.

you start tapping your foot on the ground as people around you start debating in hushed whispers, trying to determine who could possibly be the traitor.

"one minute left!" geto announces, a calm look on his face as he eyes the clock on the wall. a part of you wants to jump out of your seat and admit to all your lies, but your fear of retaliation keeps you frozen in your seat. you know it's the right thing to do— you can't possibly let all these people die— but your resolve is broken down when you notice a man step forward.

"we have come to an agreement!"

geto's eyebrow raises as he eyes the man— shinji, you recall, one of the association's most loyal followers— and he tilts his head as he descends the stage, coming to a stop in front of him. he's a mere ten feet from you, and you can't look away from him as he hums questioningly.

"and what would that agreement be?"

"there is no one among us who would even think of betraying you," shinji proclaims, being met with sounds of agreement from the entirety of the room. you watch in horror as people nod enthusiastically, wiping away fearful tears from their eyes as they settle back into their seats. "we are wholly devoted to you and your mission, and if that means that we die for you, then so be it."

"you would all die for me?" geto asks, a leer on his face as the man nods. loud laughter tumbles out from his lips, and it only grows louder as he steps backwards, hoisting himself up to sit on the stage. "how precious."

geto's loud laughter rings throughout the room, and you watch as people look at him reverently. he rises to his feet, snatching his cup back from suda and downing the contents before tossing it to the side. the dull clang of the metal rings in your ears, and he sighs deeply as he gives the crowd a small bow.

"there will be no antidote handed out," he states, holding his hand up when mutters break out in the crowd. you can't draw your gaze away from him, your eyes tracing the drop of wine that trails down his lip before his tongue darts out to catch it. "there was never any poison. that was merely a test of loyalty and all of you, my dear congregants, have passed. it really does warm my heart to know that you all have such faith in me, and i hope that i live up to all of your expectations. there will be a celebration tonight, so please, enjoy the rest of the wine and i hope to see all of you in the dining hall later. now if you'll excuse me, i have some preparations to finish. i wish you all a wonderful day."

the words have barely left geto's lips before you're darting out of your seat, doing your best to avoid his line of sight as he's held up by some of the congregants. you feel yourself grow sick as you see the smiles on their faces, and you can't help the way your stomach lurches when they prostrate themselves at his feet.

you burst through the doors and into the hallway, trying to sort through all the emotions you're feeling. your thoughts feel jumbled, and you can only focus on getting to your room as you lurch to the side of the corridor to avoid crashing into people. you feel a relieved sigh slip past your lips as your room comes into view, only for it to turn into a gasp when you feel someone grab your hand.

your knees wobble as you turn your head, catching a glimpse of geto's usual hairstyle as he stands behind you. his hand is still wrapped around yours, and you wonder if he can feel the way your fingers tremble against his as he pulls you to him.

"i apologize for startling you," geto says, his voice rich and deep ad you nod your head in greeting. "i was wondering if you would join me for some tea before the feast."

"o-of course!" you say, mustering up the courage to meet his gaze. there's a glint in his eye as he grins, and he proceeds to weave your arm through his, your hand resting on the crook of his elbow as he leads you even further down the hall. you do your best to ignore the awed looks the two of you receive from the association members as you pass them, looking down at your shoes to try and distract yourself.

a soft 'thank you' leaves your lips when geto holds his office door open for you, and you wipe your palms against the skirt of your dress as you take your usual seat in front of his desk. he walks over to the window, a large assortment of porcelain and teas sitting on the shelves underneath it.

"any requests?" he asks, earning a quiet shake of your head. he sighs softly, crouching down to pluck a container of tea leaves off the top shelf before straightening up. he shoots a glance your way, watching as you shift in your seat. "may i ask a favor of you?"

"how can i be of assistance?" you say softly, looking at geto curiously. he chuckles at your expression, waving his hand towards his desk before turning to grab a teapot.

"can you grab the folder underneath the pile of papers? remember our last conversation? i have something that i think might interest you."

you respond with a hum, standing from your seat to reach the pile of papers he had mentioned. the edge of the wooden desk digs into your flesh as you stretch, your fingers brushing against the paper before you take the pile into your hand.

"i hope i didn't scare you with my little stunt earlier," geto continues, the soft clink of porcelain filling the room as he moves things around. you remain silent at his words, unable to find the proper words to respond with. you freeze when you finally find the folder on the desk, your finger closing around the familiar green plastic as you pull it towards you. you barely register geto's voice, too focused on the item that you were sure you had hidden in your room. "although i don't think it would be bold of me to say that you weren't scared at all, considering the fact that you didn't drink your wine in the first place."

your breath catches in your throat as you clutch the folder to your chest, and you feel geto come up behind you before reaching around you to set two empty cups down on the desk.

"what do you mean?" you ask, feigning innocence. "you watched me drink."

geto hums at your words, reaching over to pluck the folder from your hands. you whirl around in surprise, swallowing harshly when you realize that he was a lot closer than you originally thought.

"i did," geto agrees, opening the folder and skimming through the pages inside. "so imagine my surprise when i found a full cup of wine hidden underneath the seat you had been sitting at."

geto meets your eyes when you remain silent, giving you a teasing grin. he pulls out a sheet of paper, and your eyes widen when you recognize it at the one that was full of hastily scribbled first impressions.

"i know who you are."

his simple statement is enough to make your heart race, and you flinch when he laughs softly at your expression. he hums as he skims over the paper, eyes full of delight as they trace over the black ink.

"i must say, i admire your dedication to your job," geto continues, his eyes still on the paper. "when you first arrived, i didn't think you'd last one month, much less six."

"you've known," you finally whisper, drawing geto's attention back to you. he watches as your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, your lips parting as you stare at him in disbelief. "you've known about me this entire time."

"i have," is all geto says, returning the paper in his hand to the folder. he looks through the pages once more, plucking another one out of the stack before reading through it as well.

"why'd you let it carry on for so long?" you ask quietly. he doesn't respond for a while, closing the folder and tossing it onto your empty chair before looking up and studying your face.

"i suppose you could say i grew fond of you," he finally responds, a crooked smile on his face. you look away from him, flustered by his words.

"so you kept me around for your entertainment?" you scoff, earning a hum from geto. you cross your arms defensively, swallowing before asking the most important question on your mind. "so now what? what do you plan on doing now that you've blown my cover?"

"you're free to go and write your little exposé. i don't care about that at all," geto says casually, taking a step towards you. his robes brush against your knees, and you shrink back against his desk when one of his hands come up to cup your cheek, turning your face back towards him. your lips part slightly as his other hand grabs your waist, guiding you to take a seat on his desk. strands of dark hair fall over geto's shoulder as he leans down slightly, and you find yourself eye level with him as his fingers start tracing feathery patterns on your hip. "but as i said, i've grown fond of you,"

"oh?" you breathe, trying to concentrate on his words. his hand slides down lower, thumb stroking the junction of your thigh and causing your breath to hitch.

"i think it's safe to assume you've grown fond of me as well," geto says lightly, earning an indignant look from you. he leans in, nose skimming the side of your neck as you instinctively turn away. his other hand leaves your face to grasp as your other thigh, dragging you closer to the edge of the desk as he situates himself between your legs.

"you're wrong," you retort, huffing lightly as you squeeze your eyes shut. your head feels hazy, thoughts jumbled as geto leans over you, his large frame almost completely engulfing you as he chuckles against your skin.

"am i?" he hums, lips brushing your neck lightly as he speaks.

"ye— ahhh!"

you moan softly when geto nips at your neck, and he laughs mockingly as you arch into him. you fist your dress in your hands as he trails kisses up your neck, his breath hot against you as he leaves faint, red marks upon your skin.

"i don't think i am," he whispers into your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. he presses a fluttery kiss to your cheek, his nose bumping into yours as he pauses. you open your eyes to see him watching you, dark eyes half-lidded as he takes in your flustered appearance.

you let your gaze drop to his lips, and you hesitate for a moment as silence engulfs the room. you feel vulnerable, almost exposed, as you sit in front of one of the most dangerous men in japan. there's a chill that's settled into your veins over the past few minutes, and you can't find it in you to fully believe that it's a result of fear.

geto suguru is a name that's been praised and cursed, and you've seen firsthand how ruthless and terrifying the man can be. yet you find yourself leaning in, your heart racing— from excitement or fear, you still don't know— as you unfurl your hands, letting them get lost in geto's robes as you blindly pull him in.

your lips meet in a clash of teeth and tongue, and geto wastes no time before angling your head up, deepening the kiss as he slips his tongue past your lips. you moan into his mouth, leaning up further as your arms wrap around his neck, your chest pressed firmly against his. thoughts are still swirling around your head as geto sucks on your tongue lightly, only making your head spin even more as you try to figure out exactly what it is the two of you are doing.

he's dangerous, you repeat to yourself, thinking about all the information you've managed to gather on the association. you think back to the wine incident, the terrified faces of the congregants flashing through your head as you pull away. geto chases after you, biting your lip, and all thoughts vanish. there's no moment of reprieve before you're kissing him deeply once again, remembering that it was you who pulled him into the kiss in the first place.

you part from him with a gasp, your face heating up when you see the thin string of saliva connecting you to him. geto breathes heavily, watching as you unwrap your arms from his neck to wipe your lips before he grabs your jaw with one of his hands. his lips are red and swollen, and you can't help the way your chest puffs with pride at the sight.

"would you die for me?" geto utters mockingly, enjoying the way a scowl spreads across your lips at the question. you try to pull away from him, stopping when his fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly.

"no," you snap, mild defiance in your lust-blown pupils as you stare him down. he thinks you look beautiful like this, titillated yet strong-willed. he wonders if he can change that.

geto huffs out a laugh at your response before leaning down, giving you a bruising kiss before releasing your jaw. you're still staring at him, shaky breaths leaving your lips as he looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"have you heard of 'la petite mort'?" he asks quietly. he looks back down at you when he's met with silence, and he watches as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"it means the little death, right?" you respond, caught off guard by the sudden question. geto nods at your words, a low hum leaving him as he fixes you with a hungry look.

"that's the direct translation," he confirms, fingers dancing across your thigh. "however, the french used that phrase to refer to a certain... occurrence."

you hum questioningly, your attention caught by the movement of his fingers as you attempt to listen to him. geto smiles when he notices your struggle, and he lets his hand slip under your dress, his skin feeling hot as it lands upon your bare thigh.

"a more accurate definition would be 'the sensation of post orgasm as likened to death'," he continues, enjoying the way your breath hitches in his throat at your words. he lets himself lean down, lips barely brushing yours as he watches your reaction. he thinks the way your eyes flutter shut is cute, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you so ready and eager. "you said you wouldn't die for me, but tell me, would you be willing to die a thousand little deaths with me?"

a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers trail along the your inner thigh, and you hesitate slightly before opening your eyes. you see the smile on geto's face, and you hate the fact that you can't really bring yourself to turn him away.

"i promise it would be worth it," geto mumurs, voice low with desire.

you clench your hands as you he waits for your answer, your stomach twisting as he lets out a low laugh as your inner conflict. a shaky exhale leaves your lips as you place your hands against his chest, smoothing the fabric you had previously wrinkled. there's a nagging voice in the back of your head, telling you that it's wrong to be here, in this situation, with a man like geto suguru.

but your resolve weakens when you take in the sight of him, hair disheveled as he stands in between your thighs and stares at you as though you're the only thing in the world that could bring him to his knees. you tell yourself that you'll hate yourself for getting involved with such a twisted man, but you ignore your thoughts as his fingers brush against your panties, telling yourself that you'll deal with your regret later.

"this doesn't mean anything," you whisper, looking to the side. you gasp when you feel geto's lips back on your neck, teeth lightly scraping against your skin as he wraps his hands around your thighs, spreading your legs apart as your dress rides up.

"of course it doesn't," he says teasingly, fingers tracing your slit through your underwear. you squirm in place, your hands now firmly on geto's shoulders as he rubs your clit through the thin fabric. "whatever makes you feel better."

you're so focused on geto's fingers that you barely register his lips trailing down your neck. he leaves wet, sloppy kisses in his wake, only pausing briefly to tug at the neckline of your dress. a faint moan leaves your lips when the cool air hits your breasts, and it only grows in volume when he wastes no time in leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth, tongue circling the sensitive nub as you arch into him.

"you, ah, you're kind of eager, aren't you?" you ask quietly, gasping when he bites teasingly at the soft skin of your breast. "oh fuck!"

your hands tighten on geto's shoulders as he pushes your underwear to the side, fingers circling your clit and causing you to squeal at the sudden sensation. you feel like your nerves are on fire, pleasure ten times stronger now that there's nothing in between your cunt and his fingers.

"i'd say you're the eager one," geto huffs raising his head to look at you.

he scowls when you remain quiet, your forehead coming down to rest in the crook of his neck as he keeps a steady rhythm. your breathing gets heavier as he hooks one of your legs around his waist for better access but you remain quiet, causing a wave of frustration to wash over geto.

"say my name," he commands, feeling you shake your head against him. he presses harder against your clit, a strangled whine falling from your lips at the action. "say it!"

"n-no!" you whimper, gasping when geto slips a finger inside your cunt. geto smirks as he retracts his hand, watching the way you try to buck your hips in an attempt to keep his touch on you.

"no?" geto asks, faux concern in his voice.

"please," you whisper, pressing your lips to his neck. geto's other hand presses down on your thigh, keeping you in place as you try to inch your hips closer to him. your dress rides up even more with the action, and geto smiles when he notices the fabric rise, baring your glistening cunt.

he groans when you suck on the sensitive spot underneath his jaw, hand unintentionally tightening around your leg and causing you to gasp.

"please," you repeat, your voice needy as tug his face down to yours. your eyes are wide and pleading, a hint of glossiness visible as you pout.

"please what?" geto asks, enjoying the way you hesitate briefly. your lips part as you go to respond, only for you to pause when you see the proud glint in his eyes. you tense slightly, swallowing your own pride before pulling him into a deep kiss.

"please, i need—" you begin, pulling away from him and looking down. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly before speaking, embarrassment prickling at your spine as you give in to him. "i need you, su—"

geto smiles when you pause, letting go of your thigh to tilt your head up to look at him. "say it with me. su-gu-ru. it's not that hard."

your face flashes with anger at his mocking tone, feeling slightly irritated at his words. geto's eyes light up with delight at your expression, and you can't help but feel a twist in your stomach as you realize just how in control of the situation he is. you take a deep breath before squaring your shoulders, feeling entirely too exposed as geto watches you intently.

"please suguru," you say breathlessly, reaching for his other hand and guiding it back in between your legs. "i need you to make me feel good."

"well when you ask so sweetly, who am i to refuse?" he replies, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as you scowl. your contempt is short-lived as he complies, and you moan when he begins to finger you slowly.

he pulls his face out of your hands to watch as your cunt sucks his finger in, eyes darkened with lust as you squirm in response. your hands fall back to his shoulders, fingers digging into his robes as your legs spread even wider for him.

"m-more, please, suguru!" you cry out, drawing his gaze back to your face. your eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted as moans pour out of you. he complies without complaint, another finger joining the first as he speeds up his pace. his office is filled with lewd, squelching sounds, mixing in with your pretty moans and whimpers as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

"like that?" he asks innocently, laughing lowly when you nod desperately. you try to buck your hips in tandem with his thrusts, and he can't help but coo at the adorably pathetic sight. he angles his fingers to hit that soft, spongey spot inside of you, earning a sharp whine as your legs instinctively try to close.

"su-suguru!" you moan, hearing a pleased hum in return. his hand is clamped in between your thighs, the skirt of your dress covering the scene in between.

"c'mon," he coaxes gently, his free hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he tries to pry them apart. you comply slowly, knees trembling as he starts to move his fingers slowly. once he has your legs parted, he lifts your dress up gingerly, breathing in sharply when he sees your arousal coating your thighs. "so sensitive. or maybe you really are just that fond of me."

his words go unheard as you push his hands away, and geto frowns lightly before you start tugging at his robes, trying to shove the fabric off his shoulders as you pull him closer.

"what are you doing?" geto asks amusedly, smirking when you look up at him with a determined look. he keeps eyes contact with you as he licks his fingers clean, humming contentedly when you break his stare with a flustered look. you manage to untie his robes, only stopping when geto's hand closes around both of yours. "answer me."

"i need you," you state confidently, an embarrassed expression on your face as he releases you. he's pleasantly surprised by your determination, and he takes a moment to think before deciding to tease you.

"oh?" geto asks, a teasing lilt present in his words. "were my fingers not enough? was i not making you feel good?"

you pause at his words, giving him a mildly annoyed look before focusing on the the ties keeping his pants up.

"of course they were, suguru," you purr, saying his name wantonly. "i just need more."

"go on then," geto says, watching hungrily as your fingers deftly work at the knot. your eyes light up when you finally manage to untie it, wasting no time before haphazardly shoving geto's pants and underwear halfway down his thighs.

a sharp hiss escapes geto's lips when your hand wraps around his dick, and he watches in amusement as your lips part in surprise as you look at it. your tongue darts out to lick your lips as you give him an experimental stroke, and you look up at him through your lashes as he bucks into your hand.

"so pretty," you murmur, letting your thumb swipe over the head of his dick in order to spread the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip. you don't notice the way geto's breathing gets heavier, or the way he leans down to press his palms to the edge of his desk in an attempt to control himself. he watches with rapt attention when you let him go, bringing your hand up to your mouth to lap at the pre-cum that covered your fingers. "s-so big."

your eyes widen when he takes him self in his hand, using the other to lift one of your knees so that your foot is on the desk.

"w-wait!" you cry out, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wood under you. geto pauses, his head tilting to the side as he waits for you to continue. you look conflicted, your eyes still focused on his dick as he slides it up and down your folds, a weak moan leaving your lips when it brushes against your clit. "it's too big... it's not going to fit."

"it's too big!" geto mocks, your jaw dropping in surprise at his words. the hand on your knee slides down your thigh, and his thumb parts your folds, a sly smile appearing on his face when he sees your cunt clenching around nothing. "you were so bold a few minutes ago, and now you're saying it's too big? you asked for this, and now you're going to take it."

you whine as he rubs his dick up and down your slit a few more times before pushing in, your cunt squelching loudly as the tip pops in. your back arches as he keeps sliding in, his thumb reaching up to rub soothing circles around your clit in a futile attempt to help.

"suguru! 's too big!" you repeat, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. you pull him close, and he grabs your hips with both hands, pulling you to him as his cock bullies its way into your cunt. a loud gasp leaves your lips when he finally bottoms out, and he moans when he feels the way your cunt spasms around him, your legs trembling as they try to close only to be stopped by geto's frame. "i- i'm cumming!"

geto laughs at the sight in front of him, and he wastes no times before thrusting into you, setting a ruthless pace as you squeal loudly.

"suguru! it's too much! 'm too full," you moan, clinging onto him tightly as he keeps fucking you. his eyes focus on your tits, enjoying the way they bounce each time he thrusts up into you. he leans down to gently capture one of your nipples between his teeth, earning another surprised squeal from you as he tugs on it lightly. he pulls away to see tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes, and he can't stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

"it's too much?" he asks, his pace relentless as you bury your face into his chest. you nod against him and he can't help but laugh, only pressing down on your clit harshly and causing you to writhe against him. "maybe i should stop then."

"no! no, please, suguru," you cry out desperately, looking up at him with glossy eyes as he slows down. "it's not too much, i can take it, please."

"are you sure?" he hums, earning a desperate nod from you. he starts thrusting into you again, his thick dick dragging against your walls as he leans down to continue marking your chest. your hands tangle in his hair, finger tugging weakly at the smooth strands as he pulls you in closer, his own fingers tugging at your nipples as he moves up to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

"would you die for me?" he breathes into your ear, hips slamming against yours as he thrusts into you. your hands pull harder at his hair, muffled whines escaping your lips as you try your best to hide your face into his chest. he lets out a frustrated huff at your lack of response, one hand coming up to grab roughly at your jaw before turning your head to face him. "would you?"

"n-no!" you cry out, wrenching your face out of his hold when he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips. geto chuckles at the action, and he spreads your legs apart further, hands hooked underneath your knees as he drives his dick deeper into you. the new angle has the tip of his dick pressing against your g-spot, and he smiles as he notices the tears finally spilling down your cheeks as one of your hands leaves his shoulder to snake its way down towards your clit. he intercepts it, lacing his fingers with yours and smiling when you let out a frustrated cry.

"look at you, so cute," geto murmurs, squeezing your hand lightly. his soft words make your head spin, a stark contract to the punishing pace he was currently rutting into you at. you whine and turn away when he kisses your tears away, only for you to turn back to face him when he lets go of your hand to prod at your clit. "are you gonna cum for me?"

"yes!" you cry out, back arching as he rubs harsh circles around your clit. geto watches in fascination as you squirm underneath him, and his hips stutter when he feels your cunt clamp down on his dick. "i'm gonna cum! please! please let me cum, suguru!"

geto grunts at your words, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. "fuck, you feel so good. this sloppy pussy was just meant to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"

"mmhmm, yes!" you warble in affirmation, tossing your head back. "it was! all for you!"

one last thrust is all it takes for you to reach your orgasm, and you let out a half-sob, half-squeal as geto fucks you through your climax. every nerve feels like it's on fire, and you think you hear yourself let out a scream when geto sucks harshly on the side of your neck, leaving a dark, mottled mark.

"doing so good f'me," geto grunts, still thumbing at your clit as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. it's a herculean task, he thinks, your cunt clamped down so tightly around him that moving feels almost impossible. "so good, so fucking go—"

he cuts himself off as he empties himself into you with a low moan, and you whimper as you feel hot ropes of his cum filling you up. your post-orgasmic haze is quiet, filled with nothing but the heavy breaths coming from both you and geto. you feel weightless, and you're only brought back to reality when you hear a hesitant knock against geto's door, followed by suda's quiet voice.

"geto?" you hear her call from outside. "sorry to um, interrupt. but the feast is starting soon. everyone is waiting for you in the dining hall. excuse me."

you feel slight mortification at the realization that suda had heard what was happening, but a part of you couldn't help but feel satisfaction at the fact that it had been you on geto's desk and not her.

a soft chuckle leaves geto's lips as he starts to pull out of you, and he kisses you quickly when you whine at the feeling, your cunt still sensitive from all the stimulation. he pulls back to watch his cum dribble out of you, and he quickly moves your underwear back in place before any of it can fall on to his desk. you breathe in shakily as you fix the neckline of your dress, glancing down to catch a glimpse of the marks geto had left spread against your skin as he fixes his pants.

"i should go. that exposé won't write itself," you say hesitantly, breaking the silence in the office. you push yourself off the desk, your knees wobbling and causing you to collapse against geto as you struggle to maintain your balance. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he chuckles at the sight. you look up at him, eyes wide when he nudges your cheek with his nose, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before speaking.

"so soon? but you see, you promised me a thousand deaths, and i have only collected one."

ty for reading !!

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Vlad accidentally outed both of them publicly and Danny was forced to flee into the Ghost Zone while his former rogues destroy the portals and leave Vlad stranded in the mess he made.

Clockwork shows up only to dramatically tell Danny that "This chapter of your life has ended. It is time for you to begin anew." He also warned Danny that he would no longer be able to help him in the new world he would be inhabitanting and wished him luck.

Luck was something he clearly did not receive since he landed smack in the middle of Gotham.

Through a bright green portal.

At night.

As a very glowy Phantom.

In the middle of a very busy road.

People were staring at him from inside thier cars, some were trying to put thier cars in reverse to quietly get away some were filming him with thier phones or trying at least trying to. He is a ghost after all.

Some melodramatic person screamed and suddenly there was some type of demon swooping down to Phantom. It was at this point that Danny thought, Screw this. I'm out. Before turning invisible and flying away.

Except...the demon was following him. Black wings like a bat were flared as the thing followed Danny across the city. It took almost an hour to lose its trail and hes certain the only reason he managed to do that was by leading the thing into the sewers and phasing back up above ground while he was out of sight.

Danny took this opportunity to invisibly phase into a boarded up shop and transform from Phantom to Fenton then phase out invisibly and bolt. He needed to be more careful of cameras this time around. Amity may not have had a bunch but this city was infested with them. After a few failed mugging attempts from some people on the streets he thinks he knows why.

He spent his entire day exploring Gotham and swiping food. He felt bad about it but with no legal identity and no way to earn money in a non-criminal way he was kinda tight on options. Eventually dusk came and, not knowing if that bat demon thing could sense him or if it liked to snack on lost little ghosties, he began somewhat frantically looking for somewhere to hide for the night.

Danny was really, really good at finding hiding spots. Usually this wouldn't be a problem. The opposite really. But here it was.

Turns out most of the great hiding places Danny found (abandoned theaters, insides of clocktowers, the 13th floor of some wierd company towers that he heard were unused and had no way to access) they were already occupied. Either by thier wierd Owl cult, this wierd Robin cult or this wierd Bat cult, Danny has decided to avoid the heck out of the bat cult cause he was 90% certain the thing that chased him on his first night here was the bat monster they worshiped.

Also, that bird cult member in the back and blue kept trying to "adopt him" which he was pretty sure meant inducting into the cult, which is a solid no from him.

Appearently him just finding all of thier hideouts is either horrifying or just embarrassing to the members of the cults. One time he popped into another "bird nest" and came face to mask with Red Robin and Nightwing around when this first started. Everyone just stared at eachother in shock for a solid five seconds before RR began reaching for something and Danny bolted back the way he came (which weirdly enough was though a cabinet door)

RR inspected the dog sized hole in the back of the cabinet that the kid must have come through and realized it lead through the walls. Chilling.

In Dannys defence, his phone was left behind and he didn't even think about reading the newspaper past learning the current date. Still on him, but meh.

[novalizinpeace]

I kinda curious about the mini toys. What are they, why are they harmless with the critters? How many of them were childrens while the others are the workers of play Co? How do they obtain food with their small size?

This question need to be answer the big way, so prepare yourself

Time to learn about the hierarchy of the heretics

As i said, the second big group in the factory are those against the Prototype, but WHY are they against him? That a curious question, that sadly i can't answer YET, but lets say that, just like in a cult, he really believe his way is the correct way.

The first one that was against him was Alba (also a reason she's know as the traitor by catnap, 'cause she was onces in the prototype side), and even when she was a ''little'' big body, she was supported by one of the biggest in the place: Mommy. That why the heretics make it after all those year, because they have ''the body'' and ''the mind'' in charge of everything.

Nothing run without those two knowing it, and they both respect each other autority, but while Mommy is a hard boss that treat everybody like brats when they don't listen, Alba tend to be more soft with those around her, something that Mommy as told her ''make the dog walk over her''.

And talking about the dog...

4 members of the gang are part of ''the killer team'', a team that was create to make sure the heretics could stay safe anytime is needed, since Mommy can't be everywhere. Basically, all 4 of them stop feeling remorse when killing others, so they're the one to go when things like attacks from the prototype's cult happen. Nell is the ''brain'' in this team, usually making a plan that, most of the time, work, but sometime those plan end up walking over some rules that Alba had make (rules that she made to keep everybody safe), and that when shit like the christmas special (with everybody but Alba been trapped by catnap) happen.

Alba has tried to work this with Nell, but the man had been stubborn even since before become a experiment, so there's no way with him.

now, the next team

Nicole came with the name as a joke, but Samina andBetty (the catbee) like it, so it stay. They're the ones responsable of the food and the recollections of anything that could work as food, Nicole's bag is full of books about herbs, insect, mold, and anything that you would need to track the stuff they found growing in the factory (thanks the playcare for having a big library in it school, Nico and Alba had been practically eating those books for years), Samina used to teach children how to make simple meals, but now had become a complete chef with ''peculiar'' ingredients. And then we have Betty, that have a really good sense of smell, so she and Nico (with someone from the killer team) tend to go around the factory looking for ingredients for Samina.

Those two have their own category, 'cause Alba can't find a work that keep them busy for long enough time. Wallaby (the one-eyed) is the troublemaker, but his younger sister Jackie is also as adventurous as him. They learned that they with another 8 Bunzos were all siblings thanks to Alba (had you see those case of a lot of children coming from one disfuncional household? That the case with them, Play.co took 10 children in one hit and decided to try the same toy in all of them), but only those two decided to stay with the heretics, so they know their other sibling are probably out there, if the prototype hadn't use them already.

There's 18 of them, and weren't created using children, but dogs (here Play.co first trying with rat, then with more smart animals, and then with humans). So they are good at following simple rules, but of course can't think like a normal person so the fall in a different social category. Amara have one of them (the pink one) as a pet and teached him how to bite someone head off.

Now the last part

This is the saddest part of the experiments. 'cause how could Play.co insert a brain in such little body? Easy, if said brain was from a little creature, like a baby.

Alba doesn't understand how they created Poppy (she never found her files) but she know all the lil' ones were tests to see if they could make fully funcional little ''big'' bodies, but since if was hard to introduce a adult/teenager mind inside such bigger body without loosing some braincell (like what happen with the employee that was turned into a Bron), they worked with babies and toodlers, everything around 7 months to 2 years was useful, and there were around 500 of this experiments (maybe even more, but Alba decided to stop counting), but now there's only around 80, all in the heretics and under Bebe's care.

How does the lil' one eat? Easy, they never were think to eat in the normal way, since they don't have funcional organs (or even mouth in some case), they were just made to see if a brain could survive using just the poppy serum and a body. So, they stay alive using the same serum.

Bebe put the plush one in a poppy serum bath ones a month, and the plastic one he recharge them everytime they need it ('cause yeah, the plastic one work with battery, doesn't ask me how).

They don't act like babies (not anymore, some of them are even probably in their 20's), but they can't speak, so they usually communicate with charades or morse code.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Maybe a drabble in which our Lamb meets Chimaera Reader, the maker of all crowns? Like, he stumbles upon their lair, and sees all types of the crowns, big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed, etc.? Maybe even a little inter actions between the Reader and the Red Crown in which it recognises them as their maker?

Sorry for my English, it is not my native language-

Also sorry if this request repeats, tumblr May have doubled it-

I swear I'm gonna turn this into an OC one day because I LOVE the concept of a crown maker in the COTL universe

........

'Where am I now..?' Lamb pondered as they stepped into a cavern--one most unfamiliar to them.

It was strange, considering they've scoured nearly every corner of the Old Faith for resources, potential rival cult activity, and even martyrs for the Bishops.

But this area was entirely new to them.

With their weapon drawn, they cautiously ventured further inward, eventually arriving into a larger room that was almost entirely cloaked in darkness. They could barely see a thing even with the few torches scattered around lighting the way.

Then suddenly, they saw a bunch of eyes opening up on all sides of them, varying in shape, size, color, and number. And they just stared down at the little sheep.

While they were accustomed to having so many eyes on them, this was completely different.

These eyes certainly didn't belong to any follower of theirs.

What if this was a trap?

What if-?

"Welcome, little Lamb! Promised liberator of the Old Faith!"

Looking upwards, they could see you descending from the darkness. You looked like a tradition chimera: a lion, goat, dragon, and snake all mixed into one. Both of your heads smiled as you took a seat upon your throne, although you frowned a bit upon realizing how poor the lighting must have been.

"Oh forgive me, it is awful dim in here, isn't it? Hold on one moment." Your lion head breathed out a small blast of fire, aimed towards a nearby candle that lit up.

That set off a chain reaction which lit up dozens of other candles around your lair, and burned the torches bright enough for Lamb to see what all those eyes belonged to:

Crowns.

So many crowns.

Big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed..and even multi-eyed; some sported horns and some did not. Others had bare surfaces while others were decorated with jewels or marred with scars from time.

It was an astonishing sight, and when Lamb looked back up at you, they could see a crown on each of your heads--snake tail included.

Not to mention your seat was adorned with four familiar ones...

"So you..take crowns from fallen gods?"

"Do I take them?" You repeated, before laughing uproariously. "No, but I can see why you'd assume that. I'm [y/n], Maker of the Crowns."

They blinked. "You created the crowns?"

"I have since the first gods ruled over these lands." You chuckled, taking the Green Crown into your paw. "I mold them into a design of my liking, give them life, and then send them off into the world to find a worthy host. They're like my children, so I do get sentimental at times...but I know they'll do great things."

'Huh...Leshy did say the crown found him..' Lamb mused.

"Of all the ones I've created, though, I never thought to see the Bishops' crowns again. But they were in such terrible condition...falling apart, barely able to keep their eyes open....I couldn't believe it." Your gaze shifted down to the sheep. "You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

They tensed. "...well...um-"

"Haha! I only jest, Lamb. I know everything." You smiled reassuringly. "I've sensed strong spikes in their energy, and I'm well aware they've been used as aids for the bishops after Narinder's betrayal. Speaking of whom...."

Pausing, you outstretched your paws towards them. "I see the Red Crown has found a new master."

"It's a long story, but--hey!!" All of the sudden, the Red Crown slipped out of their hands, morphing back into its normal form as it began floating up to you. They were shocked and angered, feeling extremely vulnerable without it. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing, little one. It came to me all on its own. Welcome home, my darling." With the crown nestled into your paw, your smile grew as its eye stared back up at you with happiness. You sighed and brought it closer to your cheek, allowing it to nuzzle up to you. "Oh how I've missed you, mighty crown of Death. I'm glad you have not forgotten me."

"Give it back!!" Lamb snarled, baring their sharp teeth as they tried storming up to your throne. But their little hooves kept slipping on the skull pile that served as its foundation, and they eventually tumbled downwards, landing on their rear. "I need it back right now!"

"...are they always like this?" You muttered to the Red Crown, who just rolled its pupil in response. "Huh, I thought so. Arrogant, entitled, paranoid....just like your first master-"

"Don't compare us." They scowled. "Narinder was worse than arrogant...he would have destroyed this entire world, along with you and all these crowns if I returned it to him! We are NOTHING alike."

"Hm, I see I've touched a nerve. My apologies. I just wanted to take care of this little chip in its horn." Smiling, you manifested some black ichor to seal the crack you discovered on the crown, before sharpening up its horns a little bit. "There. Much better."

"....thank you. Now may I have it back?" Lamb put their hand out, growing more anxious with each passing second they were separated from it. 'Why isn't it returning to me?"

"It doesn't see why it has to right at this very moment...and quite frankly, I don't either. It's not connected to your lifeforce. You're still standing without it-"

"Because I'm its new master! I gave it new purpose. I gave it freedom...and it should be obeying me unconditionally and I don't understand why it's being so stubborn. That crown wouldn't be anywhere NEAR as powerful if it weren't for-!!"

"Choose your next words carefully," you tutted, shaking your head as you gestured to the walls. "My children do not look it, but they too have ears."

Falling silent, they looked all around, noticing that the crowns were now glaring at them. They tensed up, a feeling of heavy discomfort and embarrassment washing over them as they slowly realized how childish they were acting.

And in front of the crown creator, of all people?

"Tell me..do you see the crown as nothing without you? Or perhaps you feel like you are nothing without the crown?"

"........"

"Your mistake, little lamb, is that you see crowns as simple tools to do your bidding. A conduit for your godhood. But do not forget, they are also living breathing creatures like you and I." You chastised. "As such, they deserve respect. I figured you would've been more grateful to meet their maker...such few have the privilege to enter my lair and receive such a warm welcome."

The Red Crown bobbed up and down in agreement, before it scowled down at Lamb, as though to say "you better listen to them and treat me better".

They just looked at the ground, unable to form words as shame creeped up their spine.

You sighed softly. "I understand your worries as a new god. The mere thought of separation from it drives you to rage, especially after what happened between you and Narinder. But I have no desire to take it from you. Not when you've fought so hard for it. All I wish is that you continue caring for it."

"....I'm sorry, Great Crown Maker.." Lamb muttered, finally letting themselves be humbled. "I don't mean to act like I did. It's just...he's been annoying me all day today, shouting about "divine right" and making my life a living hell. He still can't accept that it chose me over him.."

They felt the familiar and comforting weight of the Red Crown returning to the wool atop their head, but they only looked up at you with respect. "Thank you."

"Of course, young one." You nodded, smiling once more. "Narinder has possessed that crown since he was a wee little kit, so it's going to be quite a long time before he lets that grudge go. Perhaps in a hundred years, give or take."

"I understand...so.." Lamb looked around. "Do you have any wares?"

"Oh, plenty!" You clapped your paws together. "Feel free to take a gander! Since this is your first visit, you may have one of the tarot cards over there on the house. But just know that the crowns aren't for sale."

[chungledown-bimothy]

god i want to pick brennan's brain about the details of sol and helio's followers with regards to each other so bad.

bobby dawn clearly accepts helio's followers as being part of the fold- buddy's a cleric of helio, and bobby has pushed for kristen to come back as helio's chosen one. (for the sake of brevity, i'm gonna be using helioic and solian- if we have canonical alternatives like helian or solic, i'm blanking on them)

how does one choose, then, which group to be in? because they are still distinct divinities. my first instinct was that it's a generational thing, since bobby's the only person of that generation we've met and everyone of later generations has been helioic, but then there are the biscottos on leviathan.

and since the sample size is so small, we can't draw any conclusions there.

was there any kerfuffle when buddy chose helio? or if whichever parent is bobby's child and they're helioc, when they did?

there is inherent acceptance of some amount of polytheism in both religions. and i know it's getting into the cognitive distortions required to have that evangelical belief system, but that's such a glaring one, it's gotta break a lot of shelves, right?

were the harvestmen just helioic, or were there solians there as well? (was dayne blayde helioc or solian, for example) if not, is there an official solian stance on them? or do they just pretend they never existed? (which seems impossible to reasonably do, but not seeing things they don't want to is their forte)

i get writing galicaea and especially cassandra off as prodigal daughters, but there IS a kinder world where they're accepted as part of the divine family as well. and it seems possible, with bucky's interest in kristen's cassandra shards.

but is reform, like tracker is doing with galicaea, even possible? "wait for the older generations to die" isn't exactly a viable religious reform plan, but with how both helioicism and solism are, let's call a spade a spade, cults, is there any other option? how would that look or work, when questions will get immediately and harshly shut down, like we saw with bucky, or outright excommunicated?

i have even more thoughts and questions but this is already extremely long. so i'm gonna leave it there, but it's all i'm thinking about this morning.

[satoruhour]

THE JUST JANUS-FACED

a/n: please PLEASE read the warnings this is darker than what i usually write. this spiralled from me thinking about geto having a blood kink and then me being on my period and then me word vomiting into whatever this is / tagging only @getousex and @papersirens bc i feel like they will maybe like something like this? not sure if my other moots like dark content like this aahh

wc: 2.3k

warnings: DARK CONTENT, DUB-CON, descriptive piece, cult leader!geto, slight coercion, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, idolising, reader is mute for a bit, reader has a fucked up perception of love, christian religious references / parallels, corruption but reader is NOT a virgin, pet names, mentions of murder, clit stimulation, fingering, oral / cunnilingus, blood kink (?), power play, cum eating, size kink, period sex and oral, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

cult leader!geto who unfortunately has had to kill fellow sorcerers before just for opposing his cause, so he knows what sorcerers’ blood smell like. it doesn’t make sense anatomically: how there’s less of a copper smell, sweet and more tangy, not that he’s tasted it before. but the memory of satoru’s dried blood had been seared into his brain, a crystal clear vision of him carrying riko’s body; one of the drives that leads him to change the world of jujutsu.

so why can’t geto get his mind off you and your terrified state, bleeding from your torso after you’ve been ripped from your village? he acts like he hadn’t just ordered his followers to rip the place to shreds, to banish any and every trace of non-sorcerers. he crouches down to look at your pathetic state, swiping a thumb over your bleeding lip, putting it into his mouth.

that’s the first time he recoils at the taste of non-sorcerer blood — after all, it’s your beauty that entrances him.

geto’s not too sure why he kept you, either, locked up in shackles so tight they make dents on your wrists, wound left to be tended only bit by bit every time suguru finishes his sermon for the day and comes back to his office.

the second time is after a terribly stressful day. his contacts were falling behind on collecting money, there were followers stepping out of line, nanako and mimiko unfortunately bothering him at the wrong timings. he loved his girls, but sometimes he needed time alone.

what better way than to spend it with his pet?

the gag around your mouth is growing increasingly saggy, weighing down from the saliva and geto bestows some mercy on you, removing the cloth and throwing it somewhere in the room. at least your senses were still there, hearing the loud plop! of the fabric on tatami mats, but you could only whimper when geto asks you a question.

god, you looked so dumb and stupid, geto could’ve just killed you easily, but he still hasn’t found out why you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. he would send you to hell after that, but for now he’d keep you until he knows.

geto coos at the whimper.

“what is it, sweetheart? spit it out.”

your brows furrow as you uncover the hand cupping your core. it was fairly red, a strong iron smell filling the place. it wasn’t from your terribly treated wound, no — you were so concerned with this you hadn’t realised it’s fully healed, “magically” — but rather, coming from your vagina.

you were menstruating. geto sighs, flicking his sleeves before heading out, and you think that’s the end of it. he was going to leave you bleeding out on the floor while your womb contracted and expanded uncomfortably? your thoughts are quelled a minute later when he returns and tosses you a sanitary product.

“go.”

but before you can run to the bathroom in the big temple he seizes your hand, licking a stripe up your palm. there’s obvious shock on your face, from the clear line on your palm made by his tongue and the way your blood smears on his lips. geto hums, and lets you go.

it’s not too bad.

the third is when you’re sleeping soundly on the floor, still in shackles that are visibly loosened. this is the next month where blood is being shed again, made less harrowing by the products geto swears he hates getting you, “reluctantly” refilling for you after nanako asked him not to take from her stash.

by now, you’ve mellowed, but you still rather have a tough time talking and articulating speech. he knew — it wasn’t hidden that your village was built on strong men, which also led to lesser people being oppressed, silenced. only speak when you spoken to, only leave when given permission. you weren’t a stranger to the harsh slaps that landed on your face.

it was only lucky that geto had already got such an obedient little plaything. you knew your place, having learned your place before, and you think maybe he might be your saviour, because the way he spoke was nothing like the men in your village. it was done with a lilt of the voice, a lyrical, melodic quality to it. his touches are gentle but firm, never rough and abrupt.

geto-sama knew how to treat lesser people like you.

that’s why when you’re whimpering again, geto knows just the right thing to get you to shut up (although, your cute sounds are maybe just what he might be looking for. should he kill you after he gets his keep? should he slit your throat? should he—)

he brings you to your feet a little forcefully, dispelling a curse to unlock your shackles and he pushes you onto the bed. you’re the centre of attention, suddenly, not used to being in such a big space: laid out on the silk sheets of the tatami bed. you felt dirty, tainted. you didn’t deserve to be on white, didn’t deserve to have your feet planted onto ivory, to have been cleaned time and time again by his workers. you didn’t even feel like you deserved to be kept in such a sacred place as geto-sama’s temple.

and yet, when you watch your saviour’s approaching, looming form, you can’t help think of how he’s taken care of you. the love he showed you was the closest thing you’ve ever gotten, maybe a little morbid by normal standards, but who are you to question your saviour? paired with that melodic, smooth voice and the cast of his hair down his back, maybe you were even attracted to your saviour.

that was a possibility, right? you can’t tell right from wrong any more but it doesn’t matter when geto slams his lips onto yours, kissing him back clumsily that he chuckles at your inexperience. even when you’re bleeding, you can feel your cunt throb and the feeling in your stomach increase — it was oh, so delicious, the same thing felt whenever he entered a room with that sick smile.

geto nudges you to remove your clothing, touches leaving blazing fires along your skin. he sighs when your breasts are on display, taking a nipple and swirling a tongue around it. so foreign, so good that you grab his other hand and he stops. ah, yes, you were still a monkey after all, no speaking when not spoken to — that translates to actions as well.

the lord resumes his ministrations, other hand reaching for your tits to massage the other, moaning into your chest before he kisses down your body. you panic, because aren’t you dirty? aren’t you bloody?

“let me relieve you, doll,” geto-sama was well deserving of being geto-sama. like how a lord should be, he is observant in seeing how your hand clutches your stomach on the first two days of your menstruation. what qualities of a lover— lord that is.

he coaxes you into removing your bottoms (“but geto-sama, my blood—”, “nonsense, leave it.”), peeling your underwear off you and the smell hits him almost immediately. the smell he’s friends with, that metallic tinge that hits his nose so disgustingly when he sees yet another act of unjust done by the weak, and yet when geto sees you spreading his legs for him, this hit of odour is nothing like the terrible scenes he’s caused.

no, he thinks that this is right and just, this is in the fates, this was the moment of justifiable pleasure received by a weak, lesser monkey only he could satisfy. he was your saviour after all.

but when geto’s tongue makes first contact with your cunt, he thinks maybe he was on the other side of the picture — him, as weak as a non-sorcerer, sentenced to the giving of pleasure to you.

geto moans when he first tastes blood, and then your slick, the combination more angelic than holy communion. he sucks on your clit and your grip could draw blood from how tight you clutched onto the sheets but you make sure your nails don’t dig in and bleed. geto-sama wouldn’t want that.

he flicks his tongue on your nub, large hands spreading your thighs apart with ease as the abuse on your clit is merciless. geto hums into your cunt, the lewd sounds of your blood mixed in with arousal just staining the room with a pungent smell of copper and sex.

geto gives no warning as he shoves a finger into you, your blood giving him easy access and in an instant the uncomfortable cramp in your stomach starts to subside. he was a god, you know, he’s your god, you think, but you aren’t sure if you’re stingy and self-centred enough to cage him for yourself.

a loud moan leaves you when he starts to thrust, not stopping the stubborn movements of his tongue.

“oh, what pretty noises,” geto drawls, mumbling into your cunt, “your little pussy is being real loud as well, huh?”

you whimper at the lewd language, always being brutally and cruelly targeted towards you in your village, and yet when they’re spoken so filthily and intently to you — you can’t help but nod.

“need you to tell me how bad you want it, pet.” geto teases, knowing you hardly speak, but it’s an invitation, right?

your saviour adds a second finger and a mewl escapes your mouth, incoherent babbles that sounded like gibberish. oh, you really were too cute.

“that feel good, ain’t it?” he whispers, licking his lips and spreading the taste of your blood around his mouth. he smiles at your second nod.

“then tell me. what. you. want.” the command is straight, now, and if it weren’t for geto going back to suckle on your clit alongside his two fingers pumping in and out of you, you’d cower.

“want—” you moan, the squelching noises of your pussy increase in volume and the sound of his palm making contact with his chin is sinful, dirty, exactly what you were.

geto loved dirty.

“want your cock in me, geto-sama.” so, you did know the words, heart pounding so loud it resonates in your head; you wonder how you manage to even say it so clearly, so confidently. where did those words come from?

“want you to fuck me, and use me, please, geto-sama.”

your god’s smile widens into a grin and he wastes no time removing his gojo-gesa, his robes, fishing his cock out from his underwear with one hand while the other continues to lazily move in and out of you. you stare like a dumb little dog, excitement obvious by how you clench around his fingers and bite your lip.

all monkeys were so fucking predictable. your village, your parents, yo—

geto is proven wrong again when he first slips in, blood spilling from your cunt that he doesn’t exactly care if it’s because of your menstruation or your tight little pussy being stretched so far to accommodate his fat, heavy cock, but the warmness of your cunt is just so goddamn divine, he has to take a deep breath to brace himself.

“feel better already?” he fawns over you, over the bulge showing in your stomach. it showed how deep he was in you, in your womb, and you clench again at the feeling of being filled up. geto’s hips start to set a pace, rocking into you with groans of his own.

“s-so much better, geto-sama,” the smile you give him is drunk, horridly in love with your saviour who did nothing but manipulate, but you could hardly care for the morals of this world when his pre-cum filled cock hits your spots so well. his pubes and hips that meet yours are coated with blood, the scent of it increasing the longer he uses your body like a fucktoy, a reverberating pap! pap! pap! of his balls slamming into your ass.

“pussy so fucking good—” geto cums first with a loud groan, filling your womb with his seed that’s viscous and hot, and the heat of your cunt doesn’t stop him from moving, flipping the two of you over and you’re screaming in the process, body jolting from the sudden orgasm. geto grunts as he feels you spasm around his dick, switching to a violent ram up into your pussy — you’re atop him now and you suffer the pussy drunk thrusts he gives you, one after the other into your dripping hole.

it’s so messy, so dirty and so fucking revolting, your bleeding cunt mixed with his cum forming strings that connect your pelvis to his, the soiled sheets of red and translucent below you — your god’s hips falter and still, cumming for a second time so quickly geto has to make sure he’s still the right person after this.

your eyes are way back in your skull, head tipped backwards onto his shoulder and outstretched for all gods to see, and yet, geto suguru was your one and only definition of divinity. a man of wisdom, charm. you’re jerking and gasping when you feel his cum spill out of you and you’re reaching that intoxicating high all over again, geto-sama, geto-sama, geto-sama, like a chant on your lips.

it was like worship in the common room, and yet this was different, entirely, because you were getting purified and corrupted all in one sitting, by geto-sama’s cock.

geto grins and smothers himself in your cunt once you’re climaxing and eats the blood and cum out of your pussy, oozing out right onto his tongue and the mixture of it is like a sick little concoction of sin and virtue — exactly what the two of you were.

good and evil, blessing and curse, god and devil. except, geto suguru wasn’t sure what title he fell under, any more.

oh, no, not when he had you.

pls, pls tell me if i missed any warnings! ty for reading ♡

[weebsinstash]

I feel like there's a heavily under-utilized possibility in some of these ideas I've been coming up with and it's like. We all want to say "Oh Miguel is so intimidating because of his size, Miguel is such a threat because of his physical strength"

"What if Miguel found out the two of you were canon and forced you to be together" girlies and what if Miguel found out the two of you were canon and he has a full on Miles Morales level INTERVENTION in a room with all your Spider Society friends who are like family to you. This man has the weapon of EXTREME PEER PRESSURE on his side, like, how many of us WOULDN'T at least completely break down crying at that?

Even if it's not to be with Miguel himself and it's just for the marriage canon event stuff, to have that many people corner you in a room like that over such a sensitive and intimate topic, like they're basically trying to emotionally badger you into having a relationship you're not ready for and may even be SCARED OF, and also, imagine being so offended at Miguel as someone who was supposed to be your boss and coworker, "Really? REALLY?? You're telling me you had to turn this into A BIG THING? You're having a fucking INTERVENTION right now?! ALL THESE PEOPLE had to be here for this?!"

You've even got friends and mentors and people you trusted there. Peter B as an older adult who you've been confiding personal shit and self doubts in, apparently having been telling Miguel everything behind your fucking back, he's there, all "I know you're scared but you've got to take the leap of faith, look at how happy I am with Mary Jane and Mayday :)" and its like yeah and you had to be traumatized by losing Gwen Stacy first! And maybe you're scared of being hurt and taken advantage of and just have trauma and stuff but, they essentially keep telling you to suck it up, you can't break canon, right?

Like imagine some time ago you opened up to Peter B about, "I think I maybe want a baby but I don't have a partner and I'm scared, I'd want to be perfect and give my baby everything and I know I'm not good enough" and you tell him some of your thoughts and feelings and he's actually like so touched and is all "caring that much is exactly what a good parent would say :)" and you two Have A Moment and he makes you cry and sees you genuinely so vulnerable and. Fucking. Later on when you're gradually over time being socially shunned and encouraged to spend more time at home to date and shit, and eventually this full on CONFRONTATION. Peter B or Miguel whips that shit back out again, "it's not just canon, it's also what you want, you're just scared. You've been WANTING a baby, havent you?" and you're just hurt, "Peter you fucking told?!" and you're paranoid about, what else has he loosened his lips for? Some things, or everything? (It's everything lmao, fucking motormouth "I care about you because you're an amazing person and I do this for your own good" sellout ass--)

I just feel like we all underestimate the sheer power and emotional blackmail over him being able to put you in a room with so many people who are all listening to him and agreeing with him. Like this doesn't even have to be yandere for all of them to be pressuring you because "oh don't break canon muh muh muh, we care about you and it'd dangerous and we don't want you to die" like this could be terrifying in any scenario

And of course just really imagine Miguel finding out the two of you are canon and when he finally tells you in a probably really clumsy mechanical way after failing to woo you, you completely reject him and maybe even start actively defying him by trying to see other people or at least just fucking other men, and he gives you an intervention for that for some of his little vaguely cult-like followers to pressure you to basically get non-con'd by your boss who you had thought of kind of like a friend until all this. Miguel finally snapping and absolutely losing his patience after you keep rejecting him and even sleeping with someone else (both you AND Hobie would fuck each other just to spite him even if there weren't any feelings there lmao) Miguel finally corners you, you can feel the rage boiling off of him but he's trying to contain it, for you, and he's got you physically cornered, towering over you, it's legitimately terrifying, and he's growling about how he wanted to try and do this the right way, he wanted the two of you to take time, to have a proper wedding, he wanted to be good to you, but if you're not only going to be risking canon (that's how he's truly justifying all his behavior, ain't it) but also fucking other men, then he has no choice but to tie you down now, doesn't he?

Let's see other men touch you and try to take you from him once Miguel's gotten you pregnant. He either follows through with his threat right then and there OR, you have to beg him to not do this, to give you one more chance, you knowing you couldn't fight him off and resorting to pleading, "please don't do this, if we're supposed to be together you'll ruin our entire future by doing this, I'd never be able to forgive you, please just give me another chance" and you're shaking and terrified and fuck it maybe even pissing yourself because he's absolutely huge and you're realizing the gravity of being cornered and alone with him, like as a Spider you're strong and tough and fighting bad guys with confidence, but with him, someone who's on your level, even higher, you're just a helpless little woman again that he can do as he pleases with and it terrifies you that you're suddenly confronted with the realities of what he's willing to do

So now you're breaking up with any flings you may have been having even if it breaks your heart and are trying to force yourself not to freak out around Miguel and be a good little fiancé, forcing yourself to try and not tremble when he's around you, try and force yourself to look on the bright side as he begins courting you and asking about what kind of wedding you'd want, forcing yourself through it all because, if you don't do it 'willingly', if you're not walking on your own two feet with a forced smile, you're now horribly aware that he'll drag you, HE'LL make you, and you don't want to see how far he's willing to go to have you

[tswwwit]

Here's a thing! Reincarnation of Dipper who's not in the best of situations. (A Cult)

Got some gore and knives in here so watch out!

In the room of ritual, everything is ready. 

Off in that wide and majestic space, the candles are lit. The circle is drawn. The altar spread with gold and trinkets, little offerings of delight and whimsy, tomes of knowledge. Along with the remnants of the latest sacrifice, dried in long trails down the stone.

The tomes, though. If one looked closely, they would see mostly encyclopedia volumes from like, sixty years ago. Because, yeah, those are going to be so tempting for a being of infinite knowledge.

Long chanting rings through the hallways, preparing the way. The ritual is in less than an hour. In preparation for the service, the servants of their lord make themselves presentable. 

Dipper adjusts his robe - too big for him, by at least one size- and pulls at the neckline. It always drags up against his throat, in a tight, uncomfortable way. He tugs it down again, glaring into the small mirror on the otherwise bare wall.

Bill Cipher is the most powerful being in the universe, and his reach is infinite and his discernment of the mind and mastery of mysteries is unquestionable, yadda yadda yadda. 

Dipper just. Doesn’t know what everyone else here expects to happen. Especially with the setup unchanged from the one he saw last year. And the year before that. And the one before that. 

Odds are, this ritual is going to end up the same as every other one. 

Pointless.

Dipper adjusts his robes again, and smooths out the front with slow strokes. As long as this is going to happen, he might as well avoid drawing attention to himself. He’s had enough ‘attention’ for more than a lifetime.

There’s a rhythm to these ceremonies.  Dipper hears the footsteps, and easily tucks the hood of his robe up, only semi-stumbling as he joins the twin lines of robed figures leading into the ritual room. 

As he tucks his hands together, covering them with long sleeves - Dipper spends another moment to silently sigh. 

He joins the line, ducking his head as he joins in formation. The two lines of followers shuffle on with their long robes brushing the floor. He can hear them whispering to each other; varying levels of excitement, boredom. Talking about plans for after the ritual. He thinks he picks up one of the more devout members, almost humming with anticipation.

Despite the murmurs, the sight itself could be quite impressive. An all-seeing eye, if it was real, might even appreciate it.

Still, all these dramatics are so over the top. Just as fruitless and stupid as every other prayer, or ritual. Never worked before, not gonna work now. Dipper’s not sure why they’re trying the same freakin’ thing, over and over again.

For a bunch of people obsessed with the infinite power and knowledge Cipher represents, they haven’t accrued any. 

And for that matter! If Bill Cipher’s eye is truly all-seeing, why hasn’t he ever responded? His triangle is emblazoned on every wall, and on their robes. You can’t look at a surface without seeing it staring back at you, and there’s no short of devout worshipers, constantly praying and doing rites. 

Dipper dares a glance at one of the long scrawls on the walls, seething slightly at the handwriting. And the grammar.

If he was watching, surely he would have spoken up by now. Even if it’s just to critique the decor, which is tacky as hell.

The main ritual room fills up with warm bodies, and Dipper stands in an inconspicuous place. Just to the left, and not quite entirely in the back. At the front of the room, he can see the priest nodding approvingly, hands tucked behind his back. 

Hidden under the sleeves, Dipper clenches his hands together. Breathing out a silent prayer of his own, to nobody particular. He can stand stock-still through one or two more ridiculous rituals, if it means no more prayers to a blind idiot god.

A week. Maybe two. That’s it.

Then he’ll be out of these robes, and far, far away from here. He’ll never see these people again. He’ll never have to chant a single verse again in slightly incorrect Latin. He’ll never have to kneel, or go before that stone altar again, not even once.

The outside world is - there’s a lot of talk about it. There’s always a lot of talk, more or less colored by personal experiences and levels of permission to go ‘outside’. Dipper’s learned, now, that well over ninety percent of the gossip is lies. 

If his palms still sweat at the prospect, it’s because it’s… New. Different. But it can’t possibly be worse than here, and, like. Novelty is condoned by his not-really-a-god. Trying new things should be standard doctrine - if the priest wasn’t a total idiot.

Not much longer, now. 

Out there, things will be better. Out there, Dipper will have a chance at having a life. 

And there won’t be any trouble, since he’ll keep his mouth shut.

 “Children of Cipher!” The high-pitched voice of the priest rings tinnily through the air. “We are once again assembled!”

Dipper bows in concert with his fellows. Staring at the ground is a good way to not roll his eyes. 

A chant rises up, and he keeps his lips clamped together as he mirrors the ritual bowing and scraping and general genuflection. The priest will go on and on, no matter what he does. 

All it takes to get through this is time. Another round of kneeling, then standing, then kneeling, until they stand at the last word in a thronging chorus.

“Brothers!” A louder, shriller call, now that everyone has been drawn close to a fervor. For all his faults, the priest does know how to read the mood - “Tonight is a special evening!” His arms thrown up, spindly and bare as the sleeves drop near to his shoulders. “Who will bleed for our god?”

The only thing that prevents Dipper from flinching is how much attention that would draw.

He hardly dares to breathe, lest some wayward motion be taken as ‘enthusiasm.’ 

Dipper keeps his head bowed, as murmurs start up around him and  his forehead starts to prickle with sweat. 

Sacrifices happen all the time. Mostly animals. Last year they got a goat, and that was considered a pretty big one and the stew afterwards was filling, and probably tasted pretty good. 

Human blood, though. That’s - They haven’t done this in years. 

The susurration of voices in the background grow louder, and Dipper stays bowed in place. Of course nobody wants to volunteer; ‘willing’ isn’t easily found when it comes to getting a knife in your flesh - but someone’s going to bleed, tonight. The ‘volunteer’ bit will be justified by whatever’s convenient.

Around him there’s murmurs, a few, low arguments. Tension is starting to rise, but for the most part, he’s being overlooked.

He nearly thinks he’s gotten away with it, too, when a hard shove on his back sends him stumbling forward.

“Here, brothers!” The voice rings in Dipper’s ears as he tries to backtrack, slipping on the robes of the person in front of him and dropping painfully to the floor. “The provider!”

Shit, shit, shit. 

Dipper tries to glance back at whatever asshole pushed him, but the crowd’s already grouped together into a bunch of faceless clumps, drawing back from his fall. 

He levels the worst glare he can manage, even as both his arms are seized by two of his so-called ‘brothers’. The big ones. 

Gritting his teeth, Dipper digs in his heels. Struggling’s ineffective, protesting’s impossible. Gesturing wildly, including a raised finger in the general direction of the asshole who pushed him, Dipper gets dragged to the foot of the altar. 

“See how he offers his flesh! See how he shakes with joy!” The priest jogs his arms in the air. Dipper shakes his head rapidly holding up his hands. “His arms, already offered!”

And for a moment Dipper’s simply annoyed at how obvious it is that the whole damn ritual is a farce. 

“Tonight, we call upon the god! Tonight! We-”

Whatever else he’s yelling about, Dipper doesn’t pay any mind. He’s busy trying to use the loose robes to worm his way out of the guards’ grip. It halfway works, until one of them gets him by the bare wrist and painfully pulls it out.

The cold stone hits his waist. One of his sleeves is drawn to his shoulder. His arm pinned, bare and wrist upraised, on the stone. 

Damn it, if he finds out who shoved him, he’s going to - he arches up, but firm hands hold his shoulders. There’s little time to think about revenge when he’s trying to find a way out of this. Arm, stuck. Shoulders, held. The exits, totally blocked by a bunch of crowded figures. 

In a way, Dipper can’t truly blame them. After all, if the current sacrifice got away, who knows? 

They could be next. 

The priest seems pleased, at least. He paces in front of the altar, gesticulating wildly, and rambling on about god and blood, and other nonsensical bullshit.

Great. They have their ‘sacrifice’ for tonight. So, so super ‘willing’ too, what with how he, quote ‘rushed to offer himself’, end quote. 

Dipper takes a long breath, holding it for three beats. Then he lets it out. 

Okay. If this follows most other ‘human sacrifices’, it should be bearable. Some bloodletting, a nasty scar. Maybe a missing finger, but he’s learned to deal with worse. Push through the moment, wait for it to be over. Soon enough, he’ll be on the other side of this entire godawful situation.

Focusing on the transitory nature of pain helps him steady his breathing. And more importantly, slow his heart rate.

Calming meditation. He can work on that. Though it’s difficult, with the way the priest keeps going on and on about an ‘auspicious night’. Also, the very large, curved, very sharp-looking knife.

Dipper tries his best not to stare at it. Or to linger too much on the thought of knives and flesh and blood. If he could stop thinking, for once in his stupid life, it’ll be over before he knows it.

That’s totally not not the usual knife, though. He wonders where the hell it came from.

Last time, it was some basic utilitarian repurposed chef-thing, with a crudely engraved triangle on the hilt and the blade. This one’s much more… Ceremonial. Sharper, too, with a wicked curve and a gleaming edge, and covered in runes that Dipper’s never seen before.

He mouths a swear as one guard uncurls his fingers from the edge of the altar, turning his wrist back upright. The priest waves the very, very sharp blade around, yelling something that Dipper doesn’t bother parsing, even as his mind races. He can tell it’s definitely not Cipher runes on that thing, and not the old Latin their god prefers. Did someone go outside to find this? Another random artifact that the priest got his hands on? Seems like he’s always picking up useless semi-magic items.

The knife doesn’t feel ‘useless’, though, even from a glance. It radiates a pure and terrifying purpose. 

Especially as it comes down, and rests against his wrist. Almost gently, its point bites a drop of blood from his skin.

The fetid breath of the priest pants over the altar. Dipper turns away, neck twisting as far as he can manage, eyes shut.

Please let this be just a bit. Just a drop. A small, tentative cut to fill a bit of the channels on the stone. There’s a sting to the metal, a slight burn, and though Dipper’s not one of the main Holders of Mysteries or anything, he feels like that’s a very bad sign.

Then he feels. Cold.

It runs down his inner arm, lingering for an instant before blossoming into sharp, bright pain. He nearly chokes on air, cringing into a hunched position as he feels the knife slide.

The catching drag of the old knife would have been painful, but that was mostly used for taking a finger, or maybe dragging across the back of the arm, in a more decorative than productive way of drawing blood. 

The ease with which this knife cuts sends a deep, swirling nausea straight to the pit of his stomach.

“Behold, the flow! The magic gathers, my children!” THe priest’s voice warbles a bit as “With this tool, with this magic, our god will hear our call! He will behold our devotion, and raise us to glory! He will answer-” More and more words, variations on encouragement. Zero substance, all hype. A fanatical motivation speaker, Dipper thinks, half-hysterically. 

Vapid or not, the result is effective. The sight of blood has certainly spurred everyone into a kind of frenzy, whether from fear or fervor, Dipper doesn’t care.

And they’re certainly getting a lot of blood. More than required.

Dipper struggles up against the hold, but it’s pointless. He ‘s stuck there for a few long minutes, oozing out for an audience that can’t even see half the damn thing, and it hurts. 

The red trail gathers, slowly pooling down and into the engraven triangle. Enough to fill the shallow channels easily, which, uh. Dipper’s never seen before. With the other sacrifices it kind of stopped and clotted, but this moves like it’s being wicked along the surface.

He makes a face as  his blood slowly travels through the lines, but can’t see any surface changes, or feel anything that might have been put on the stone.  

Until it connects at the top point. Then it meets, completing the image of Bill with a strange, too-bubbly ‘blorp’. 

Okay. Weird. But that’s plenty, right? Ritual done, blood offered, and now, he should get going.

Lurching upward gets the grip to loosen up on his arms, as the guards loosen their grip a bit. They already have what they need, and hell. Dippers deserves a friggin’ break. With the immediate attention off him, he can dare a glance at his arm - 

And instantly averts his gaze to absolutely anything else. 

The priest turns around, arms raised. Pumping them  in the air, knife glinting in the candlelight. “Yes. Yes!” He swings the blade around, nearly catching one of the big brothers in the side. “See how easily the liquid flows. The power builds! I can feel it - the summoning, in this room tonight!”

The crowd calls out their enthusiasm, a high rising ‘oooh’ noise. 

Dipper sighs, and tries to scoot back away from the altar. It’s done, at least; he’ll just have to cope with the aftermath. Could be worse.

“The other arm, brothers!” A loud, clarion call. Dipper whips his head around,  as the priest lowers his arms - and turns back around. Pointing at Dipper. Again. “I feel the blade crave more!” 

Uh, hello? What?

Dipper glances up at the knife. At how the slight sheen of blood has dipped into some of the runes, the faint glow -  and goes ‘huh’. 

Alright, he’ll admit. It’s definitely magical. 

But he’s beginning to suspect it has less to do with Bill, and a lot more to do with other forces. Ones that might, say, make a ritual flow smoothly. Or make a fanatical asshole even more bloodthirsty.

Behind him, he almost feels the guards shrug, right before he gets shoved against the altar again. One of the assholes even dares to pat his side, in a brief bit of unexpected sympathy. Not that it means anything. 

Dipper longs to curse them out, to scream at every single one of these absolute jackasses. Every one of them is just watching this happen. Nobody thinks about what happens next, ever, including - 

He grits his teeth instead, hard enough that he thinks something might crack.

Everyone follows orders. The words of their supposed ‘god’, filtered through a man who’s fallible and frail and frankly fucking stupid.  Always getting stupid magical trinkets. Always trying to find a link to that demonic god, constantly pursuing magic, and power, and influence. No matter the cost.

Why would he care if one of the too-few worshipers pays the price?

And fuck that.

Before, Dipper struggled as much as he could. Partly from fear, sure. But mostly to make a point. That this was stupid and painful, and wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Knowing that with enough kicking and protest, he might get them to cut things short.

Now, seeing the priest whip the blade back around, raising overhead with both hands - he fights.

A solid kick lands in the left guard’s groin, and he gets his wounded arm back. Dipper clutches it to his chest, but the other’s still pinned and being twisted, now. Another kick gets something softer, and he hears a huff from the priest. Then a loud, angry order to ‘Hold him down!’.

Dipper’s shoved into the stone, stomach digging into the edge of the altar hard enough to make him gag. His head hits the surface, more dizzying than painful. There's a hand gripped in his hair. Then his other sleeve is drawn up, his healthy arm extended over the table. Bare skin exposed, lying over the bloody surface. 

He breathes heavily, nose nearly against the altar. It quickly grows hot from his breath, and moist, too, which is probably why his face feels wet. He doesn’t hear anything but his own harsh panting. 

He never wanted to be a part of this, he never wanted to grow up like this. In a week or so, he was going to get out, and now he’s going to get hurt again, so soon, and he only has so much blood in him. He doesn’t want to die. He shuts his eyes, tucking up against himself. Hoping the weight of his body will drag his arm away where his own strength couldn’t, choking back a tightness in his throat. He was nearly out. He was nearly safe.

He was almost free. 

He breathes harder, shutting his eyes tight. He presses his forehead against the runes, and the blood, and just wishes he wasn’t here. 

Metal clangs on the floor, ringing bright as a bell. 

There’s a sudden intake of breath. Dipper feels the hands release him, a shocked sound. Then the ‘flump’ of a lot of draped fabric, all at once. 

Dipper keeps his face against the stone, breathing slower. That’s. That’s not how any ritual goes.

He can’t waste the opportunity, though. Now that his arms are free, Dipper pulls his sleeve back up, bundling it around the cut. Shit. Does he clench his fist or leave his grip loose? Which one slows blood flow. 

Whatever interrupted this isn’t going to last. He’s only got a few seconds before everyone comes back to whatever passes for their senses, and tries to ‘complete the summoning’, or whatever the hell they were after.

Gotta act. Gotta - Dipper wheels around, panting for breath. 

In front of the altar, all the robed figures in the room have fallen to their knees. The priest’s dropped the knife. Dipper scoots it a little closer to himself with a foot, watching as the zealot raises his arms in devout praise. 

Dipper pauses. Still clenching tight on his wrist, though his sleeve is starting to feel damp. Things don’t just stop like that. The ritual has to continue. People should be surging up to keep the momentum, but the entire room is -

Oh. 

Yeah, now he sees it. 

All the candles were lit before. They give a little light to a room that’s never seen electronics in its life, dim as it is. 

Right now, they’re bursting with flame, rising high enough to cast weird shadows over the cavern - 

And it’s a very bright blue. 

Shit.

Dipper whirls around, unsteady on his feet. Staring at a long, long trail of rising blood. Almost a string, or a reverse droplet, floating up from the triangle carved on the stone. In midair it spreads into a thin web, shapeless and vaguely pulsing. 

Okay. That is definitely magical. And absolutely up to no good. 

He fumbles around - where did he kick the knife? Maybe if he breaks it, it’ll interrupt this whole thing. Who knows what the hell that idiot priest did, or where he got the artifact, or what it does. 

Dipper doesn’t know much about gods, or spirits, or demons, but anything that gets pulled in by a blood sacrifice can’t be a good sign. He spots the damn thing near the opposite corner, and braces himself on the altar. It he’s careful, he can reach it without alerting anyone. Maybe.

Which is when the entire hall fills with bright, loud laughter.

“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice rings just as brightly as the laugh. Dipper jerks towards the sound, involuntarily, only to see a single eye open inside the breath web of blood. “What do we have here?”

There’s a resounding groan from the crowd. Various people start chanting, but they’re all using different verses, and the priest starts his own, presumably improvised, wail of praise and devotion. The end result is an ear-rattling clamor. 

Dipper looks back at the altar. Watching the blood twist in this way, and that. The eye alights on him for a moment - he freezes - but it moves on from him quickly, examining the room.

There’s a lot to see, too. Maybe terrified, devout worshipers isn’t weird for a supernatural entity, but it’s thoroughly freaking Dipper out. Even the priest is on his knees.

“Boy, it’s been a while since I’ve had this kinda summon!” The net stretches, almost elastic; twisting into limblike shapes, and fractal forms. The slit-pupiled eye rolls back and forth. Then it blinks twice. “Might as well get dressed for the occasion! Hold on a sec.”

The eye shuts into nothingness. Moments later, the blood starts getting really active, pulsing faster, twisting into shapes like it’s alive.

Dipper spares a terrified check on his wrist, but. No, he’s not feeding it, or anything. This is something else. Someone else, taking the material and lending it power enough to grow. 

Even as he watches, there’s a spreading arch of bone and the twist of veins. A fairly glorpy assortment of something between and below what looks like ribs, a strange thick blackness tinged with yellow…

He cringes back, and shuts his eyes. Shit, watching this is deeply unsettling. 

Not that it’s gory, per se - that would imply that something’s being taken apart, when it shouldn’t be. This is something being put together, a way that it shouldn’t ever be.

He backs up a step from the writhing mass, getting more fleshy by the instant. Then grimaces, teetering in place. Blood loss, right. From the asshole who started this whole thing. He levels a glare at said asshole - 

But. Beside him, the priest is quivering with tension. Trembling like he didn’t expect this to happen.

Frankly? Neither did Dipper. For all the times they’ve done a ritual, there’s never been a reaction like this. 

This insane mass, forming insanely out of nothing. Or well, from blood, that spread out in a weird three-dimensional - triangle, oh shit -

He should have known. Should have noticed. This was a summon, and while the object used wasn’t for the right being, maybe that doesn't’ matter with so much gathered intent. 

This is….

Dipper falls, awkwardly, to his knees. Then ducks down in as low a bow as he can manage, pulling the hood of his robe back over his head.

Part of him thought Bill didn’t exist, or at least not in the way these guys talked about him. Maybe they’d latched onto some other spirit or deity, and completely misinterpreted everything. Maybe they’d made it all up, including some of the really old texts. There was never any evidence that their lord and master was real.  

But given what’s happening here…

Like hell is he gonna look like the only person who doesn’t. 

Something - two things - go ‘clack’ on the altar. A few series of taps. 

Then a long, pleased sigh, and the sound of soft movement, like cloth.

Dipper keeps looking down. The hood keeps him anonymous, another faceless shape in the crowd. Just one more figure genuflecting before his - 

Before a god. 

One that might not even deserve a capital letter on the word, perhaps, but still an entity that he should not, under any circumstances, piss off. 

There’s a tap that sounds like a shoe, and a low hum. Something lands beside him with a thud. In the brief moment that he raises his head, Dipper catches sight of black loafers, and long fingers on an oddly human-looking hand. 

He quickly lowers himself more towards the floor, holding his arm tight. 

Yep, just one more super-devoted believer, same as all the others. Super not important enough to notice.

“You know, blood’s usually for blood gods!” Bill Cipher’s voice rings through the room. It’s higher than Dipper expected it to be. One of the fancy-looking black shoes kicks the knife up into the air, where it’s caught by the long fingers of that hand. “Pretty wild for you guys to pull this. With another guy’s artifact, of all things!” A chiding tut, and the knife twirls. “And pretty disrespectful, I gotta say.”

“My lord.” The priest’s voice is dry, even for a guy who already sounded half-dessicated. He rises to his knees, hands clasped together. “We meant no disrespect. We are here to serve you, master. As we always have.”

“Uh huh,” Bill says. In Dipper’s limited sight, he toys idly with the knife, pressing the tip against the finger of an opposite hand. A bead of something dark wells up, and he rubs his fingers together. 

The priest recites several lines of a chant, making a triangle with his fingers. So eager, and so totally missing the disinterest in Bill’s tone- “We have always been searching for you, our worship unending! You honor us with your presence. You shine upon us your infinite glory!”

“Sure you have,” Bill says, sounding, if anything, bored. The blade in his hand flips around between his fingers, then back again. The motion reminds Dipper of a very deadly fidget spinner. “Do tell.”

Which is when the priest surges up, nearly grabbing onto Bill’s thigh. He’s only stopped by a rapid sidestep. 

Dipper cringes back out of secondhand embarrassment. Bad move. Dumb move. ‘Devoted’ or not, Bill was bored already - and infinite beings of pure energy do not like being manhandled by mortals. 

“Let us use this connection, and the blade! Let us complete the sacrifice.” The priest continues, undeterred. Shuffling closer on his knees, he spreads his arms wide, inviting and eager. “The blood could grant you all your power, that you might grant us-”

“Pass.” Bill says dismissively. The knife flashes, and there’s a wet, solid ‘thunk’. 

Dipper catches a brief glimpse of the priest’s face - stuck in shock, pale and lined with age - just before his body falls to the floor, as limp as a ragdoll. The knife handle in his chest props him up at a weird angle, before a swift kick from a black shoe sends it tumbling down the short three steps of the dais.

Dipper cringes into a smaller ball, trying to scrunch himself into invisibility. He watches Bill pass in front of him, standing in front of the crowd. The hand rests on a hip, while the other is raised out of site. Still far, far too close.

On the one hand, Bill’s examining the congregation. Distracted, for a moment. Staying out of his attention is so, so great. 

Dipper curls up in a much, much tighter ball despite that. 

In every single one of his plans to get out of here, Bill Cipher existing wasn’t a factor. Much less his actual, physical presence. All he’d ever thought about was how this was bullshit, that the people he knew were awful - and how hopefully, nobody would notice if he left. Now the ‘god’ himself is here. Standing so near Dipper he could, if he wanted, stupidly touch the hem of his pants.

A distant, insane part of him chimes in with the stupid idea that it’s nothing to really worry about. 

Like, compared to how he’s still losing blood, for example. 

Right. Staunch first, panic later.

Dipper wraps his sleeve around his arm, as subtly as he can, teeth gritted. His first priority is to stop bleeding. No escape plan - or any plan for that matter - is going to be useful if he dies. 

The immensely powerful nightmare god is also a problem, obviously. But in this moment he’s not the immediate threat. 

“Hmmm.” Bill lets out a low, contemplative hum. It resonates in the room, with how deathly silent things have become. “Let’s see here…”

After a pause, he snaps his fingers. “Stand!” 

The entire congregation leaps to their feet. One of them stumbles and gets a swift kick in the side.

“Sit!” Bill commands. Everyone drops to the floor. A low chuckle, then, “Turn around three times and bark like a dog!”

Oh, now that won’t - 

Or maybe it will. Dipper cringes, back pressed against the altar. Don’t just comply, what the hell. Sure it’s a magical god-being, but - fuck. He watches the scene with a grimace. 

Bill, though, seems to be having a great time. He’s bouncing in place, voice bright with enthusiasm. “Do a little dance! Twist yourself until your joints snap! Hell, start a fight with the guy next to you!”

There’s havoc in the room of ritual. Robed figures practically fall all over themselves, and Dipper notes with a nauseating turn that some of them have drawn knives of their own. Chaos reigns; an entire scramble to do each possible thing, all at once. 

And Bill’s laughter rings out over everything, clapping his hands in delight.

Dipper’s trapped in this room with an insane madman, leading a horde of equally insane idiots, and he doesn’t have a way out. He hopes he’ll stay out of notice. He hopes that he’ll live through the next five minutes.

There’s no controlling the situation, but he can improve his odds.

The altar’s pretty close, and Bill’s turned away, for the moment. Dipper scoots back, inching himself towards the corner. With enough shuffling, he might be able to move behind it and get out of sight. 

“Welp,” Bill claps his hands again, this time with finality. Some of the chaos stills. “You’re all annoying, boring little vermin, but maybe you guys could improve. I noticed the blood you used to summon me was real choice stuff!” The exaggerated sound of a kiss. “Very nice.”

Dipper feels sweat building up in his robes, and tries to be very still. Basically part of the ritual scenery. Anonymous furniture, at best.  

“In fact. It was so nice.” The voice continues, at a lower tone. Almost a purr. There’s a clack of shoes on stone. “Let’s see who this little treat is!”

The god seizes Dipper’s wrist - the wounded one, sending a bolt of pain down his arm - and clamps his palm around it, incredibly tight. 

Before he knows it, Dipper’s standing again, involuntarily, staring past his hood into a bright, glowing eye.

He’s meeting his god. He’s been noticed by Bill Cipher. 

So far he’s not trembling, so. That’s one thing he has going for him. 

Bill’s eye flicks down, then up again, almost thoughtful. Any question about his power is quickly tossed aside, because holy shit; the magic is nearly palpable, thrumming into Dipper’s skin and making his heart race. 

He’s also sporting a bright, wide grin, in a face that makes Dipper do a double-take.

Like. He thought - he glances at the triangle on the back of the wall, then to the person in front of him. 

Okay, it’s said that Bill Cipher can take any form he wants, human included, but, like. What?

Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice any of the insane, stupid things Dipper is thinking. All he does is raise his hand, and with one quick motion, sweep the hood off of Dipper’s head. 

Dipper flinches back. Jaw clenched, eye shut. 

Shit, shit, shit. Special attention. All the scenarios he can think of say ‘not good’. Best case scenario, it’s because Bill wants to thank him, for... Whatever his blood did. The rest of them involve increasingly terrifying ideas about what ‘nice blood’ means, and how much of it Bill might want. All of it, say. Maybe immediately. 

Dipper can’t pull away, not with such a strong hold on his arm. Fighting is downright dumb. Trembling’s happening, despite his best efforts, and the intrusive thought bubbles up that, hey, at least there’s lots of pressure on his wound. Could be worse.

Nothing happens. For several seconds.

Eventually, Dipper peeks an eye open. 

There’s Bill Cipher, looking back at him. His eye is literally lit up, the pleased grin wide on his face. 

Dipper waits for an order, but the god doesn’t speak. He just wiggles his eyebrows. If anything, he looks oddly… expectant?

Fuck. Dipper has to do something. 

What the hell, there isn’t any doctrine for this.

Sure, he knows all of the catechism, and each chant he was taught. He’s got an encyclopedic memory of everything he was taught about this powerful interdimensional god-being, he knows every ritual back and forth. The tenets spring to mind, unbidden: Be obedient, speak his words, serve him in all ways - and most of all, don’t think. 

But Dipper can’t chant. He hasn’t been told to do anything yet. And though it’d be a death sentence, if serving involves more bleeding he’d be tempted to kick again. Hell, he literally just watched everyone else trying the other bits. They did exactly what they were supposed to, and that was ‘boring’. 

He never could stop thinking, though. 

Now, his mind is racing.

A little-known and never-preached fact about Bill Cipher is that he doesn’t, actually, like rules all that much - 

So. 

Dipper offers a hesitant, closed-mouth smile. He wiggles the fingers of his free hand, a bit awkwardly, in greeting. 

Then ducks his head again, wishing he still had a hood to cover his face.

That didn’t make it weird, right? That’s a normal, devout thing to do. Coming from a totally religious guy, who’s only slightly damp from all the sweating.

“Oh.” Bill’s voice lowers to something like a purr. He tucks a knuckle under Dipper’s chin, lifting him to meet his single eye again. An eye that’s glowing now, bright gold and  half-lidded. “Ten outta ten on the offering, guys. Very cute.” 

Which is a little weird, but probably - 

“Y’know what?” And Bill’s grin widens, bright and wild, as his thumb strokes Dipper’s chin. “I like this one.”

Uh oh.

Dipper tries sinking down into his oversized robes, but Bill just fishes around inside them until he can pull Dipper up again by his undershirt. 

“In fact,” Bill declares, sounding proud. He pulls Dipper in closer, hand still clamped painfully tight on his wounded wrist. “I’m gonna keep him.”

What?

Immediately after that declaration, Dipper’s tugged in close, thumping against his side. Bill turns to start barking orders at the congregation, a sneer in his voice and a 

Dipper can’t quite parse it. He’s still running over the words in his head. 

In the ritual room, the candles flare even higher, temperature rising to an uncomfortable degree. Dipper watches two worshipers collide with each other in their frantic obedience, and can’t even laugh about it.

‘Keep’, Bill said. 

What does that mean? Everything here is already ‘Bill’s’, in a way. But the way he said it sounded… oddly specific. 

A hopeful part of Dipper chimes in that it might just mean ‘not let him bleed out’, but he’s never been that lucky before, and there’s no reason it would start now.

With everything else going on. With the presence of a god. e. 

The cultists are bustling about; a few of them deposit things near Bill’s feet, like gifts upon the altar. Boxes, totems, more lit candles that Bill idly kicks over onto one of their robes, watching them flail at the sudden burst of fire. 

Eventually, Bill considered the task ‘done’, or close enough. He sighs, shaking his head. “About time, guys! Talk about slow. Hard to get good followers these days.”

Bill clicks his tongue in distaste, then snaps his fingers.

Dipper hears a weird ‘zmmm’ sound to his left. He notices that Bill’s suit is really soft material, and also that he probably shouldn’t be grabbing it like this. 

He doesn’t dare look at the sound. Not when Bill’s turned towards him with smug pride, like he’s pulled off a plan without a hitch. 

“Man, it's only been fifteen minutes, and I’ve had it with these losers.” Bill gives the congregation a look of disgust, then turns back to Dipper. That grin reemerges like the sunrise. “Screw these guys, am I right?”

This time, Dipper’s smile is involuntary. He quashes it fast, but not before Bill notices.

“That’s what I thought.” Bill says, with deep pleasure. He takes a step closer to the altar, pulling Dipper along with a surprising lack of force. “So! What’d’ya say we ditch this joint?”

Dipper doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t know what’s been happening, either, other than it’s all been going way too fast.

But Bill Cipher is looking at him, still. Present, powerful. Eager for a response. 

Dipper just shrugs.

He wouldn’t know what to say even if he still had his tongue. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bill says, eminently pleased. Pulling Dipper in closer, with an arm suddenly around his waist. “Hold on tight! It ain’t a bumpy ride, but it’s a weird one.”

Dipper follows as he walks. Partly on automatic, and partly because what the hell else is he supposed to do?

About three steps in, he realizes they’re both walking on thin air, towards and over the altar. 

He jerks his head over, blinking at the source of that ‘zmm’ sound. 

Because of course summoning am interdimensional god-being would leave a remnant. He had to come from somewhere. 

Like, say, a weird red-yellow gap in space, with nonsense things flung around in a black and bizarre starscape. Dipper catches a glimpse of something with two many limbs, and of a series of screaming mouths with no bodies, and a duck and a grandfather clock, tumbling through the air. 

It’s almost like it might be a nightmare dimension. Who could have thought.

With nothing else to cling to, his free hand clamps Bill’s shoulder, tight. 

“You’re my guest for the next while, sapling.” Bill says, squeezing him tight in return as he steps in - and drags Dipper alongside him, stalking into the portal. “Glad to have you!”

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @scottlava

Scott Campbell has illustrated numerous children’s books, including SKULLS!, Sleepy the Goodnight Buddy, and Zombie In Love. He was author/illustrator of the much-loved HUG MACHINE. He enjoyed a long career in video games, where he art directed the critically acclaimed game Psychonauts and Brutal Legend for Double Fine Productions. Great Showdowns is his ongoing online series. Scott’s work has appeared in galleries and publications around the world. You can see more of his work at ScottC.com.

Check out our interview with Scott below!

How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Great Showdowns?

I went to art school in San Francisco and have been painting, making comics, and designing video games ever since with Double Fine Productions. The Great Showdowns began at the first Crazy 4 Cult exhibition at Gallery 1988 in Los Angeles back in 2007, an exhibition of artwork inspired by the cult classics of cinema. The first 10 little paintings were intended to be snack-sized pieces for people to easily collect. They began with perhaps the most iconic of wild west showdowns from A Fistful of Dollars with Clint Eastwood. I pulled some of my favorite moments from films like Ghostbusters, Predator, Exorcist, and Planet of the Apes and placed them all in simple little dust-colored squares as if they were in the dirt streets of a wild west town. They began as good versus evil but grew to all kinds of showdowns between people and objects and often moments of great love between people. I started a tumblr for them a few years later, and I have been posting them ever since. We have published three Great Showdown books and have had 3 solo exhibitions along with worldwide scavenger hunts. There are over a thousand of them up on the site by now, and i do not plan on stopping any time soon.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I would like to gather Jim Henson, Walt Disney, and Richard Scarry together for dinner and chats. They have all created my favorite and most joyful worlds. I think we would have some of the most delightful chats.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I love collage, but every time I try it, I get frustrated and just quit. Someday I will get into it when my kids are old enough to really mess around with various mediums. I plan to have boxes of textiles and magazines for them to just annihilate.

What does your work set up look like?

Oh, it’s just a table with an old mug for water and an old plate for my watercolors and not much else. I share a studio with a bunch of very inspiring people who make wonderful things, from fabricated creatures to VR experiences and films. I have probably the simplest little area in the space. I do have an old oak flat file that I love to look at.

Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?

The biggest thing I would push upon everyone would be to not fret about one’s visual style. The style will grow and present itself as you experiment with mediums and expose yourself to various cultural delights. Just have fun and try all kinds of things.

What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

I gave a game design presentation many years back on a game I had art directed at the time called Brutal Legend at a game conference in Leeds. The game followed a roadie to the age of metal in the land of metal, with demons and chrome volcanoes and hot rods growing from the ground, and rivers of happy and cheering fans. After the talk, I spoke with someone whose work I had seen in earlier portfolio reviews at the conference. She was very shy but incredibly talented. She came up to me after the talk feeling pretty emotional and inspired to the point of tears and sobbing. It was probably the most extreme reaction I have ever gotten from someone, and it touched me deep down in my guts. That’s why we make things! To bring on the tears!

From video games, to illustrations, and children's books, you've worked on many projects. What was the most challenging, yet rewarding one?

Video games take an enormous amount of work over a long period of time and rely on the skills and talent of many like-minded people. It is sometimes difficult to corral such an effort, but it is incredibly rewarding to see it all come together to create such epic worlds. That said, though, children’s books are very enjoyable in a cozy way. It’s just me right there working on a world and all the pressure is on me. I cannot rely on all the talented people around me to make it look great.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

I love perusing old fashion and film blogs and artists like Bob Jinx and Neil Sanders and collections like Its Colossal.

Thanks for stopping by, Scott! Be sure to check out the Great Showdowns over at @scottlava!

[justadeadreaper]

Hey, this is for @frogchiro and her COD Gods AU. I hope she is comfortable with this, and I'm sorry if she isn't and will remove it if she asks me. But, let me just say thank you for blessing us with this idea and I am so happy that you are back as you are one of my favourite Tumblr accounts and your ideas are always amazing.

This will be very long and could be confusing so please hear me out as this is 4771 words of explanation.

My idea for God König could be him being a mysterious God that not many people know about entirely but they'll know his cults. He has many, many cults (like the cults of Dionysus or Pan) worshipping him, but all for different things due to how he randomly appeared one day and had all these cults popping up like it was planned, but all these cults fight each other over what he's the God of as they can't seem to agree but to try and beat each other they try to spread their worship to more people, not knowing that it makes König more powerful. I can also break down each aspect, why he has them, how powerful each aspect is due to the size of the cult, and what parts of the world would worship which aspect.

To make this make sense I have made a hypothetical world which I hope @frogchiro is okay with. So for this hypothetical world which I'm basing on other fantasy worlds and our Earth, we can say that most of the mountain ranges would be a majority in the North, going through the North-East and a lot of the East. Now forests would go across the whole world but would be more focused in the North all across to the West, although the North would be thicker deciduous or timber forests compared to the West where it would be mostly oak or birch forests, but the South-West would have some tropical rainforests while the East has a mixture of tropical forests and normal forests. The East going into the West, which would be the middle, would be mostly desert area, which has some oases here and there. Most of the South is a coastal region with the upper parts being sand deserts while on the South-West and East-West would be tropical rainforests with the furthest parts of the South being pure beaches that are mainly used for fishing villages. Of course, there are offshore islands that come off the mainland, with the South and East having the most islands.

  Wildlife/Nature/Earth- I see König being worshipped as the God of Wildlife/Nature/Earth due to how we see in his Ghillie Monster and Desidia skins we see that he is tanned and he gives the vibes of an outdoorsman who loves nature and wildlife but also feral animal vibes especially when on field, plus the gun we see with his The Wolf skin (look on the wiki) reminds me of the hunting rifles my great-great uncle owns and he is a giant outdoorsman. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the North and West because those are the regions where it is mostly land thick with nature and forests. The powers König gets from this are the ability to talk to animals and have some control over them but not complete control, he can also morph forests to make them thicker or more confusing, he can also help plants grow but he doesn’t have to much control over it, and he can mimic animal calls but also shift into the animal if he has a part of that animal and he can grant a safe passage through forests or safety from predators to his followers for this aspect.

  Mountains/Caves- I see König being worshipped as the God of Mountains/Caves due to how he is a mountain of a man, so it would make sense for him to be associated with them and I thought to add in caves due to caves being closely linked with nature and caves but also due to how caves are natural shelters and it made sense in my mind that people would worship and thank him for these shelters within nature. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the North and North-East because those are the regions where it is mostly mountain ranges and mountains tend to have tunnel systems. The powers König gets from this are being able to be so tall and use mountains as his territory and he can grant shelter and to grant big, strong children to his followers for this aspect.

  Shadows- I see König being worshipped as the God of Shadows due to how it was one of the easiest for him to steal first and I always find it funny when someone so big is so quiet and sneaky that they blend into the shadows. This aspect is mainly worshipped by assassins so it can be anywhere but normally there is a designated spot in a city where the assassins can pray to him. The powers König gets from this are being able to travel through the shadows and sneak around and he can grant similar abilities to his followers for this aspect.

  Death- I see König being worshipped as the God of Death due to how he probably has the highest kill count and if I saw him on the field I would think that it was Death coming me himself and because it fits into the backstory I have for him. This aspect is mainly worshipped by a select few cults, which would mostly be his most original followers. The powers König gets from this are to be able to see when someone is going to die, to easily kill anyone and to have control over the dead, and he can’t “grant” anything to his followers for this aspect unless they want him to kill someone after they’ve given him a big enough sacrifice.

  Oceans- I see König being worshipped as the God of Oceans due to how there’s the whole Eldritch König thing in the fandom which was made worse by his Deep Lord skin and paired with his ability to change into animals from being the God of Wilderness he could have transformed into a Kraken once so people started worshipping this Kraken form so it did not hurt them when they are fishing and allows the to fish in its territory. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the South because it is mostly fishing villages on the coast. The powers König gets from this are the ability to control the ocean and sea storms and he can’t “grant” to his followers for this aspect as he isn’t really aware of this aspect yet.

  Fertility- This is inspired by @stariepie 's idea for God König, and I hope she is okay with this, and if not I don't mind removing it as I don't know if she doesn’t mind me expanding on the idea. I see König being worshipped as the God of Fertility due to how much of a fine specimen of a man he is, like who wouldn’t and I see him as a family man, so it just works. This aspect is worshipped anywhere because people want to have kids. The powers König gets from this is boosted fertility and being good at you know what and he can grant a boost of fertility to his followers for this aspect.

  Physique- This is inspired by @stariepie 's idea for God König, and I hope she is okay with this, and if not I don't mind removing it as I don't know if she doesn’t mind me expanding on the idea. I see König being worshipped as the God of Physique due to him in my eyes being one of the perfect specimens of a man based on my type, he could easily protect his family and he could give the best of cuddles and he is carrying a whole battle axe down there. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the North because his physique would be most suited for the North region and the men who survive the most there would be like him as you need to be strong and warm to live there. The power König gets from this is his amazing physique and he can grant advantages to get stronger and more muscular to his followers for this aspect.

  Secrets/Mysteries- I see König being worshipped as the God of Secrets/Mysteries due to how mysterious he would be to most humans and because canonically we know virtually nothing about actual König but also due to how I think König tries to hide his past and plans to make it easier for him to achieve his goal. This aspect is mainly worshipped by people who worship König as to not piss him off but not because they actually care about him.   Music/Poetry/Literature- I see König being worshipped as the God of Music/Poetry/Literature due to how I envision each God having a wholesome part of their aspects which is worshipped and I envision these for him as I think it fits him as I get the vibe he’d probably be a poetry snob and enjoy learning to play and actually playing instruments even if most are too small for him, plus it’s a nod to all the AI covers people make of him singing. This aspect is mainly worshipped by artists because it first came about due to artists romanticising the aspects of König, and he was seen as a martyr for the outcasts of society, which artists tend to be, so he became their God in return. The powers König gets from this is the ability to be able to play most instruments and have a beautiful singing voice, and he can grant the ability to have a breakthrough song or poem to his followers for this aspect.

  Madness- I see König being worshipped as the God of Madness due to his social anxiety and the paranoia it causes as I have social anxiety myself which causes me to have paranoia, and I thought it would be cool nod to his social anxiety and how he is feared on the field even by the people he is rescuing. This aspect is mainly worshipped by a select few cults, which would mostly be his most original followers. The powers König gets from this aspect is to cause madness and panic, which is generally in the form of paranoia or anxiety through his screams or he can cause people to become paranoid to the point of changing their memories to something that involves him, and he can grant the ability to cause madness in the enemies of his followers for this aspect.

  Royalty- I see König being worshipped as the God of Royalty due to how in German ‘König’ means King, so I thought it was fitting, and royals would see him as powerful and would want him on their side so they could continue ruling. This aspect is mainly worshipped by royalty all over the world. The powers König gets from this are nothing but just being known as the favourite God of certain royal families and he is seen to grant strong heirs to his royal followers for this aspect.

  Lost/Forgotten/Outcasts- I see König being worshipped as the God of the Lost/Forgotten/Outcasts due to the backstory I made for him and with his backstory of being bullied outside the AU as I can see how he’d relate to people who are outcasted from society or forgotten about especially for physical differences. This aspect is mainly worshipped by people who are outcasts. König doesn’t exactly have any powers for this aspect, but he has an elite form of guards who are outcasts that he picked out himself as he saw something in them that no one else could, and he uses these guards to protect certain areas that are extremely sacred to him. I could honestly spend hours explaining each aspect and the backstory of how he got it and how it would be worshipped and explain the influences more clearly, but that is the basics for each one, and if I get permission I may go into them more and explain them more.

Strength of the aspects from strongest to weakest: -Madness -Lost/Forgotten/Outcasts -Shadows -Death -Mountains/Caves -Wildlife/Nature/Earth -Secrets/Mysteries -Physique -Royalty -Oceans -Music/Poetry/Literature

My inspiration for God König was actually Persephone due to her history as it's really interesting, and the same for Pan as his history is really interesting as well. I ask you to please watch Overly Sarcastic Productions' videos on the two Gods (their video about Persephone and Hermes as it depicts the history of the two) since if you do, my ideas will make a lot more sense, but I will do a summary.   Persephone and Demeter predated the Greek Pantheon due to their mysterious cult and were already associated with Death due to being linked to Poseidon before the Pantheon we know, as he was originally the God of the Underworld, which linked to the Earth and the God of the Oceans as that was seen more important at that time. Persephone had many titles and many things associated with her since people didn't directly talk about her due to being genuinely terrified of her as she was powerful and she was a Dread Goddess linked to Death.    Pan is equally as mysterious as Persephone as he is described as a rustic, ancient God of the wilderness and was primarily worshipped exclusively in Arcadia like Persephone. Barely anything is known about him, but we know he's the reason we panic due to the noises he would make.

I also have a backstory for König, which isn't totally figured out yet, but here is what I have so far. So König started off as a God of Madness and Death. He wasn't well known or worshipped at all as being a God of Madness and Death; no one wanted to worship him as those things are associated with very negative things, which caused König to be extremely jealous of the Gods that were being worshipped, which affected his insecurity. So, as the God of Death, he started going and killing other Gods and taking their place; it's why he suddenly appeared as he previously had no worshippers, and he took over the place of one God. The first aspect was the aspect of being the God of Shadows from Graves, and this started by having a cult in a ring of assassins, who needed the shadows to do their job, as he used his powers as the God of Madness to change the minds of that cult to believe he was the original God of Shadows the entire time. But, our dear König got greedy and cocky with his new sense of power and wanted more, so he sent out his assassins when on their killing missions to spread the word of him. Now each assassin was given a different aspect to start cults on depending on the region he was in. These original members are his original court and infested many small cults and would build them up until König was worshipped for that aspect more than the original God, which boosted his power but weakened the powers of those Gods, giving him the chance to go in and kill them. And König isn't going to stop until he gets someone to pacify him or until he's the God of everything, as he wants all the power and he's paranoid about being forgotten and being reduced to a powerless God again.

I imagine König to look very cryptid-like to fit his theme of being inspired by a Dread God and to fit how mysterious and all-encompassing he is. For his body, I say that he is tanned, as I mentioned earlier, as we see that he is somewhat tanned in Desidia and Ghillie Monster skins, and I see him as an outdoorsman, but he would be the tallest God and be a mountain of a man in his height but also in his build, as I imagine him to be pure muscle with a layer of fat on top so think of something similar to a dad bod but muscular which makes him all the more warm and cuddly. Now I see him as someone who is a bit hairy, and for his hair colour, I’m basing on my own family where we are dark strawberry blonde, but at different angles it looks like different colours, so from the back he could look ginger or the front he looks blonde since I can’t pick one colour for him and I thought it would look so pretty on him. I think his head hair, it’s long and puffy to the point that when he takes his mask off, just a bush of hair falls out and it’s an absolute wild mess. His body is riddled with scars, but some noticeable ones would be his cleft lip scar, a clipping of his right ear which is missing, one that runs down the whole of his spine, multiple stab wounds going from the upper area of the left of his chest to the lower of the right of his chest, a burn scar on the top of the right side of his forehead and the bottom left side of his face, and multiple scars on his hands from when the knife in his hand would slip out or from when he was stopping attacks. I feel like his tattoos would either be runes or statement pieces of animals, and he would have piercings in his ears which use bones of bandits he has killed. For his clothing, I imagine him using a mask which is a deer skull with a veil coming out of the bottom of it to cover his face, and he mostly wears furs from a mixture of furs from elk, bears, and wolves -mostly so he can transform into them to scare off hunters from his temple- which he uses as a cloak and to cover his lower half but I would imagine him not covering his chest as a cocky show of strength and to show off his body in general as he is proud of it. For decoration, I see him having chains/necklaces that have small trinkets on them as references to what aspects he has (e.g. for Ocean he has a belt-like chain of shark teeth, but for Wilderness he has vines wrapping around his body, but for Death he uses bones as decorations).

I'd say his sacred animal would either be an eagle due to it being the national animal of Austria and Germany as an eagle represents boldness, power, and victory, which fit König well, or it could be a wolf due to The Wolf skin König has, but also due to how I headcanon him as part Serbian due to @would_tbh on X/Twitter and for the family history I headcanon him to have and due to how wolves are Serbian’s national animal and it fits him well as wolves are described as lone creatures which fits his social anxiety but also how they’re pack animals which fits how König has his own team he has to take care of as a Colonel and wolves are supposed to represent loyalty, strong family ties, good communication, education, understanding, and intelligence which you’d need to be a Colonel and I see him being a big family man. Although I have two more unique choices of what his sacred animal could be. The first is a bear, as in Germanic regions, it was used to represent a warrior, which fits our big guy well and bears are big just like him, and bears can be deadly or cuddly like him as well. While for Indigenous people, a bear can represent strength, family, vitality, courage, health, thoughtfulness and independence, with little need for fellowship with it being self-contained and strong-willed in nature, which are all attributes I would associate with our Colonel. But my second and most unique choice is a winged boar. This is due to how wild boars are surprisingly shy animals that generally try to avoid humans, which fits how the fandom sees König as shy even though he’d probably just want to avoid other people; however, wild boars are also formidable assholes -I don’t get recommended being chased by one- when cornered or angry or threatened so it has come to represent courage and ferocity. The reason why I say a winged boar though is due to Khrysaor, as it was supposed a winged boar that was born when Medusa’s head was cut off. I thought this could be a nod to the eagle, but also a nod to how Medusa’s eyes are deadly as they can turn anyone to stone and the only part of König that isn’t covered is his eyes, and if he were to look at you, with his size and demeanour, you’d probably freeze on the spot like you were a stone statue.

König's relationship with the other gods is messy, and when I say messy I mean messy:

  Ghost- Fucking hate each other. Just plain enemies to the point that they have fake versions of each other in their temples that they train with and brutally murder. König hates Ghost as due to Ghost being the God of War, Strength, and Fertility; he is König's biggest enemy due to how much power and influence Ghost has since it's an equal amount to König and Ghost has the strength as the God of War and Strength to be able to attack König and actually be able to beat him in combat. While Ghost hates König as some people have started worshipping König for fertility instead of Ghost, and due to Ghost thinking Madness should be under the aspects that Ghost is the God of as Madness induced by Fear and Panic is what is experienced in War (this is based on the sons of Ares: Deimos and Phobos).

  Soap- Surprisingly, these two actually get along. I imagine Soap is also the God of Art, as in painting and drawing, so the two get along due to their love of the arts. Soap loves making paintings of König's poems, songs, or stories, and in turn, König loves making songs, poems, or stories based on Soap's drawings or paintings. They are also friends as Soap being the God of Spring means that König's nature flourishes more and is reborn after it's destroyed by Makarov in Winter.

  Gaz- This is based on how people replace Gaz with König but these two are hostile to each other. The reason why I say this is because Gaz is the God of the Hunt, König is the God of Wildlife. To hunt in König's forests and kill the animals under his protection, you need his permission and sacrifice some of the hunt to him. Gaz did not do that as he didn't know, and Gaz accidentally killed König's favourite winged boar, which pissed König off greatly, so he went to fight Gaz and so the two have hated each other ever since.

  Krueger- I headcanon Krueger and König to be cousins, so these two do get along but they annoy each other like all cousins do as even not in the Gods AU, I see König as the older cousin who used to be the main problem maker of the family before Krueger -who was an accident- was born; they may not have much of an age difference as I see it as König being five years older, but once König realised that Krueger was as chaotic as him, or even more so, he would get Krueger to do his schemes with him or just encouraging Krueger’s schemes. But back to the AU, originally, Krueger was a more powerful God than König, but as König grew in power, he became more powerful than Krueger, but as they have that cousin love for each other König helped Krueger by giving him an aspect or two that he didn't want. I don't know what Krueger would be the God of, but I know it would link to König somehow.

  Makarov- I headcanon Makarov to be the God of Winter and Plagues. This has caused him and König to be respectful rivals as sadly Makarov's plagues and Winter kill König's animals and nature but he benefits from Makarov's plagues killing people as it means he has more souls due to people dying. Makarov, like König is trying to kill the other Gods to become more powerful, so it has caused a rivalry. Makarov is slightly jealous of König being the God of Death but the two do have some respect for each other because of their similar goals and how their aspects affect each other.

  Valeria- I headcanon that Valeria is the Goddess of Deserts and Poisons/Venoms. She and König both don't like Alejandro since König sees him as a risk due to Alejandro being the God of Rage like @stariepie said, and as we see in the campaign, she hates Alejandro. So due to both having a mutual dislike of him, they made an alliance where Valeria's poisonous and venomous animals are protected in König's forest, and in return, König has oases through Valeria's deserts so his followers can have some water when traveling through to get him more followers.

  Horangi- Everyone headcanons these two as friends, and I do too, so I imagine these two became friends as Horangi is the God of Bad Luck and Gambling; one time challenged König to a game of Matgo where the first to get enough points to say "Go" then "Stop" got to take an aspect from the other God. Horangi, due to being the God of Bad Luck, lost but König liked Horangi's balls to challenge him to such a challenge, so he gave Horangi the aspect of tigers from König's aspect of Wildlife, which made Horangi also the God of Tigers.

  Roach- I headcanon that Roach is also a God of Outcasts, but unlike König who focuses more on people who are outcasted due to their physical appearance, instead Roach focuses more on people who are outcasted due to being different by having a mental disability as I see him as autistic and mute. They are allies since they are the only few people who are accepting of outcasts and they sometimes trade their chosen outcasts with each other as I also see König having autism and sometimes he sees one of Roach’s outcasts that he thinks is a lot like him and the same with Roach as König may have an outcast who’s mute due to a physical disability or scarring.

  Price- Based on @stariepie 's idea of God Price being the God of Knowledge and Wisdom and my idea of him also being the God of Stratedy makes König either fear or be uncomfortable about Price. Unlike with Ghost, who constantly fights or acts snarky with König which created the hatred for each other on top of the other issues, Price doesn’t take notice of König as he just sees König as another God but does judge König’s friendliness with Makarov. But, König fears Price due to that, as König is smart enough to understand that with Price being the literal God of Knowledge it means that Price knows König’s weaknesses and knows ways to defeat him, which does not help König’s anxiety-induced paranoia as he sees Price’s indifference as Price plotting something.   Graves- Our poor Phillip hates König for obvious reasons. I also see Graves as the original God of Shadows because he started the Cult of Shadows, which was a ring of assassins, but König accidentally became it as well as some assassins saw him and thought oh Death God if we worship him he could help us kill more König saw it as a perfect opportunity to steal his first aspect by making them think he was the God of Death and Shadows. This, of course, created hate between him and Phillip as Graves sees him as an undeserving thief who’s overstepping and trying to take over, while König hates Phillip as half of all assassins still worship Graves and König thinks that they should be worshipping him.

One little fun fact: a headcanon I have for God König is he is actually the God that gets sick the most as he is the blood type AB- as seen on The Wolf skin and said on the wiki, and all my relatives that are AB+ or (especially) AB- get sick really easily and seriously so I imagine him to be the worst when he’s sick; he genuinely makes man-flu seem like it’s nothing as he’s overdramatic and tries to push through it even if he is near enough dying.

Sorry about this, but I'm just a giant König fanboy and adore this man and have so many fucking ideas and headcanons for this man which I may post at a later date if anyone is interested because I have so fucking many, and I have made a full backstory and family tree and the same goes for Price, Makarov, and Soap which I can talk about for days. If I have anything more to add to it, I'll probably post it or send it to @frogchiro 's inbox, but if you have questions, you should honestly ask her as it’s her AU unless I get permission from her to answer the ones I receive.

Now, if either person mentioned in this are uncomfortable with this or needs me to remove anything, just please tell me, and I'll remove it when I see it. But I hope they are okay with me expanding it with my own ideas, but if not I do not mind removing it. If there’s anything offensive or any mistakes, please tell me. I also may come back and edit this at a later point if I think I need to. I just saw the posts and got inspired as I adore König, especially God König. Also sorry if the formatting is weird this is my first ever post on Tumblr instead of being a lurker so I may change the format if I'm not happy with it and if I need to add any tags to this I will just tell me if I need to.

-This is Ozzie signing out, and I hope you have a fantastic night.

[randomtable]

Random Faction Builder

How many pies do they have their proverbial fingers in? (1d10)

1-4. They are tightly focused on their singular area of influence. Roll once on the following table. 5-6. Roll twice on the following table. The first result is the field they openly deal in, or what those who know them mostly know them for. The second result is the field they are secretly trying to infiltrate or influence. 7. They serve as a mediary between two spheres, or between certain groups within two spheres. Roll twice on the following table. 8. Roll three times on the following table. The first two results are the fields they openly deal in, or what those who know them mostly know them for. The third result is the field they are secretly trying to infiltrate or influence. 9. They’re jugglers, jacks of all trades. Roll three times on the following table for areas they regularly deal in, plus one time for a field they have their sights on breaking into. 10. They’re everywhere. Roll once on the following table for the one circle they can’t show their faces in anymore.

1d6 Circles of Influence:

1. Government/Politics/Law Enforcement 2. Religion/Faith/Cults 3. Crime/Black Market/Underworld 4. Guilds/Trades/Organized Labor 5. Business/Merchants/Corporations 6. Knowledge/Information/Research

Now, roll 4d6 and assign one die to each of the following attributes, then look at the total on the last table:

Group Size

1. Just a few people devoted to a cause. 2. Enough people that it’s hard to get them all in a meeting together, but not enough people to really split into multiple sub-groups. 3. Enough people to crew a large vessel 4. A pretty big group, church congregation sized. 5. Enough people to populate a neighborhood. 6. If this entire group mobilized it would be a full-scale army.

Financial Power

1. Broke. It’d be a dream just to break even. 2. Surviving. They can get what they need, but can’t afford to expand or to have a large unforeseen expense. 3. Middling. Can use money to further their agenda but must be selective about doing so. 4. Comfortable. This group can afford to make investments. 5. Well-off. Their investments are paying off. 6. Rolling in it. They can solve most problems by throwing money at them.

Age of Faction

1. Brand new. This faction hasn’t existed long enough to have done anything of note. 2. Recent. This faction is probably still made up mostly of founding members, but has had time to make a name for itself. 3. Established. People remember this faction being founded. It may have some original members, but if it does they are old. 4. Pretty Old. This group was established before the oldest currently living generation was born, but in the lifetime of their parents or grandparents. 5. Old. This group was founded hundreds of years ago and has played a roll in many historical events. 6. Ancient. This group may predate the current civilization, and is seen all throughout history books.

Expertise

1. Bumbling. This group is incompetent and lacks basic knowledge. 2. Shoddy. They know just enough to get themselves into trouble. 3. Mediocre. There are no experts in this group but they have meaningful skills. 4. Competent. This group employs some actual experts but still has real gaps in their abilities. 5. Highly skilled. They may not be the absolute best in the business but this group can use skill to address most challenges. 6. Only the Best. This group has a reputation for their expertise.

Total - Overall Faction Influence

4-8  Nobodies. Who even are these losers? 9-12  Small fish in a big pond. This faction has an impact on certain individuals or niches, but are still unimportant enough that none of the big players pay them any mind 13-16  Up and Coming. Enough influence that they need to be careful not to upset the highest tier factions lest they get squashed. 17-20  The big leagues. This faction has a great deal of power but is not infallible. 21-24  Powerhouses. If there is only one faction at this level, they are functionally in charge of the society. If there are multiple factions at this level, their conflicts and machinations can have devastating fallout for ordinary people.

[infinite-hearts-333]

Meet: Ouřa Thorn!

Hi hi I have a hyper fixation on the smiling critters the size of fricking Saturn and all you amazing beans are making me feral enough to post on this site again PFTT- SO here’s my take of the space rider au that was made by the AMAZING @onyxonline (dude your art is like my world rn good job 👍🏾✨)

Also what would I be without a lil lore drop so that’s all below hehe :3

Ouřa Thorn is based off of a Armadillo girdled lizard, though due to their horns, and massive size, many confuse them for a dragon or a wyvren of some sorts (not that they care to correct).

They joined the space riders in their teens, and just never left- doing the odd jobs where ever they could, cleaning, cooking, maintaining crafts, ect. They had no powers to their knowledge, and if they did they weren’t noticeable or activated yet.. and well many crews don’t have room or need for a wannabe space maid. So Ouřa Thorn stayed at the base.

They were fine with this, they would be a little bit of a sore thumb in the crew since lack of fighting skills, powers, and that they couldn’t wear any of the cool uniforms without shredding them with their spines. (Sure they could flatten them, but it only takes one spook for them all to spike up and poke someone or rip something :<)

The world however, always has other plans. Whilst they were working in the supply section, checking out crates that came with make, gear, food, what ever critters had mailed to base had to checked through carefully to ensure nothing sketchy was put inside. Standard precautions, and for a good reason.

One of the closer priests had tried to mail some their followers straight to the base to try and breach and take over it, or to lay low and snoop out info.

Ouřa Thorn heard one of their fellow mail sorters shriek as a gang of the cults follows breached into the docking bay. Sirens filled the air as the base was alerted of the breach, and hopefully some of the riders would be able to get to the docks and stop the cult before any casualties or damage happened.

When the riders arrived at the scene- well. It was quite the scene. Ouřa Thorn always had powers. They just need the right amount of pressure to kick start it.

Under the stress of critters they cared about being in danger from the cult, Ouřa Thorn gained their only ability. Their symbol is the Ouroboros, representing the cycle of rebirth and destruction, as well as the World Serpent.

Over all, it was a little bit of a shock of see a massive Lindworm aggressively hoarding all of the docking staff while hissing angrily at a heap of cultists, laying still on the floor.

This form is absolutely a last choice move, due to its destructive behavior and the factor that it is high in energy to maintain, leaving Oura Thorn exhausted afterwards. Though with all those spines and thick skin, they’re practically a tank for charging through lines hehe.

After the docking incident, their started to consider being a space rider :>

[mildy-vibing]

Alright I'm going to go off on a mild Itty bitty little head canon / AU of mine. Side note, grammar is not my strong suit.

Personally, I interpret the lamb as a very damaged being. They don't take it out on the world, instead they are very sympathetic and caring of their followers. The Lamb wants to make sure that each and every follower knows they are loved and not alone. The Lamb wishes to protect them and - even at the expense of their over dependence on them - keep them from the horrors of the world beyond the cult boundaries. They wish not to have anyone experience what they had experienced. Being the last of your kind (Toothless Experience) does damage to one's psyche.

Like, having to fight 4 bishops and a God just for the right to continue living hurts. The Lamb has struggled with plagues, hardship, and far too many wounds to count. Eventually they wish to know at least some peace in the form of death.

Oh yeah, you can't when you are death.

The Lamb also struggles with building deeper relationships. In the beginning years, they took up spouses. However, the knowledge that you will outlive them and everyone around you will always remain. When Narinder came around, for once, the lamb found a stable factor in their life. A hateful (secretly loving), immortal friend-turned-lifelong-partner.

Did the lamb hate the Bishops when they joined their cult? No. They still find the actions of the bishops deplorable. However, they understand these acts were done out of fear. Even though the bishops have hurt them in the past, the lamb would rather keep them on cult grounds than have them roaming the world.

Does the lamb enjoy being the God of death? They aren't exactly leaping for joy, but they accept it. What they do not like is what came with it. For decades, they were you know, lamb sized. When they ascended to God hood, their body grew to accommodate such power. And that means more than just becoming giant. It meant their senses heightened. All around them, they can feel life and the power that flows through the ecosystem. It greatly stresses them, often leading to overstimulation. Only Narinder is aware of the more vulnerable side of his husband. However, Lamb likes to keep their forms separate. They prefer their smaller, more agile form to their taller, imposing godly form. Better for the followers and all.

What does being the God of Death bring? A lot. Other deities, gods and divine beings still believe only Narinder as the God of Death. This is a point of mild frustration for the lamb. Would you be mad too if you fought your way to get a title you hardly wanted and nobody took you seriously. The only being that even has a speck of respect is ???. Even then, ??? treats them more like a child than a adult God.

The lamb hates the name 'Infant God'.

They often find themselves reminding people that they are indeed, 'God of Death' and not someone to be joked about. Yes, they are young by God standards, but still, they find such name degrading.

Narinder still finds it humorous at people believing he is still God of Death.

Anyways, end of my TedTalk. I'm open to questions, comments and stuff :]

'God form Lamb and Narinder'

AND HAND HOLDING.

[storiesbyrhi]

🧚 🧚🏽‍♀️ 🧚‍♂️

i would love to hear about this fairy fic 🖤

It's only 700 words or so. I had this idea that Eddie, after everything that happened, moved to the city. But his time in the Upside Down left him magically marked. This gets the attention of the secret fairy living in his apartment block.

It's part magic realism (you know me) and part some weird size kink bullshit hehe.

I have a lot of thoughts and ideas, but haven't really decided how thw story is going to go. However, I am happy to share what I have! Unedited and very likely to change.

Love youuuuuuuuuuu.

Eddie Munson tried to not think of leaving Hawkins as running away. He had sworn to himself, standing against a tornado of demobats, that he was never going to do that again. No, Eddie would be brave in the face of danger. There was no battle he couldn’t fight. No enemy to send him cowering in the corner. But Hawkins… Hawkins wasn’t just any monster.

Hawkins had thousands of eyes, all peering at Eddie whenever he ventured further than the trailer. Her mouth could speak in an endless number of different voices, all whispering about cults and murder and Chrissy Cunningham’s body. She had power too, Hawkins, power enough to stop Eddie from getting work after he graduated from his hospital bed. She had him frozen in time and place.

Eddie didn’t know how many more days of fight he had in him, but a kind twist of fate offered Eddie an escape plan in the form of his sweet friend Jeff. A plan in which Eddie could play the hero, rather than the deserter.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, man!” Jeff paced back in forth in front of Eddie. “Everything was all set up but I can’t pay rent on my own. My dad says to put a notice in the paper but even that costs money… And I don’t want to live with a stranger! What if they’re like… an axe murderer!”

It was refreshing to hear about someone’s normal problems. It seemed a lot easier than working out how to communicate cross-dimensionally or where the hell Nancy Wheeler’s missing guns went.

“I’m sorry, dude,” Jeff apologised. “I shouldn’t complain to you,”

“Why?” Eddie fished.

Jeff hesitated. “Well… You know…”

“Because I was accused of murder, attacked by wild dogs, and almost killed in an earthquake?” Eddie was obviously being sarcastic, but it still made Jeff wince.

“…Yes?”

Eddie laughed, shocked that people had really bought ‘attacked by wild dogs’ … but they needed some sort of cover story for the bite marks. Despite his best efforts, Eddie couldn’t even make himself the hero of that adventure. Goddamn Steve Harrington had saved him from the rabid pack, earning himself some matching battle wounds.

“It’s cool,” Eddie reassured his friend.

The pair sat and watched whatever shit was on television for a little while longer. When the idea popped into Eddie’s head, he sat up straight from his lounging position, moving quickly enough to startle Jeff.

“Jesus!”

“I have an idea,” Eddie announced. “What if I come with you? Take the room? Nobody knows me there. I can get a job. Actually leave the fucking house. You don’t have to live with stranger. We can still jam… It’s a good idea, right?”

“You really want to move to Chicago?”

“I mean… S’not like I have grand plans in Hawkins. This town fucking hates me… I’d miss Wayne but… Yeah… Yeah, I wanna move to Chicago… If you’ll have me.” Eddie grinned at his friend, the wide smile full of fun that Jeff hadn’t really seen since before everything went down.

“Eddie Munson. My hero.”

…

It was a dark magic. It was cold. Lonely. And there was only a whisper of it, thankfully, but it was there. From your window, you watched him unload a U-Haul onto the sidewalk. A group of people were moving boxes and furniture into the building; the noise followed them to the second floor, to the vacant apartment across from yours.

The magic was only coming from him. All his friends were unremarkable, just a mismatched crew of boisterous boys. None were scarred like him either. Even from your window, you could see the pink ripples of scar tissue on his face, neck, and arms. The war must have been recent, you decided, the pink fresh and his movements stunted by discomfort and pain.

“Eddie, dude, you’re not meant to be lifting the heavy ones,” his friend yelled, coming to take the box away from him.

“I’m fine,”

“Whatever. I don’t wanna scoop ya guts up when you pop a fuckin’ stitch, man.” The imagery was strong and it forced a smile on your lips. He was loved, the boy with the scars, despite the dark magic.

…

 It only took Eddie a week to realise something was happening.

[wildandsmile]

𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓬𝔂

◦•●◉✿ Bloody Prayers ✿◉●•◦

This piece is written for Doma (Upper 2), a character from Demon Slayer .

Kinks included in this fic: Creampie, Cervix Kissing, Size Difference, Fem Receiving, Praise and Degrading.

Trigger Warnings: Cult, Blood, Hypnosis, Creepy Old People and Sacrifice.

You were an esteemed traveling merchant, specializing in a wide array of herbs, medicinal potions, and rejuvenating oils. Your expertise and reputation attracted a diverse clientele, including the wise elderly seeking remedies and young women yearning to enhance their natural beauty. So when news reached your ears about a hidden gem of a town nestled amidst the mountains, inhabited by enchanting young women and the almost nearly forgotten. You felt compelled to embark on an extraordinary journey to this land of promise.

During your arduous journey, you diligently gathered an exquisite assortment of rare herbs and vibrant flowers, envisioning the possibility of crafting remarkable new concoctions. And so after what felt like an eternity of unwavering perseverance, you finally arrived at the gates of the town. As you crossed the threshold, an unsettling aura seemed to permeate the air, causing a slight unease within you.

Dismissing it as mere hunger pangs from not having a satisfying meal in quite some time, you brushed it off and resolved to find sustenance and shelter. It was then that a strikingly beautiful young lady caught your eye, prompting you to seize the opportunity and strike up a conversation. Hoping to secure general information you approached her with genuine warmth, “Could yo-“ you try to stay but to your dismay, she swiftly says , “I’m sorry I really would help you but I’m running late to the ceremony” her face etched with concern.

As you gaze at her with a quizzical expression, an intense curiosity sparks within you. However, before you have the chance to inquire further, she swiftly departs. Left without anyone else to approach, you scan the surroundings only to realize that this place has succumbed to the ebbing currents of time, becoming yet another forgotten ghost town. Despite this, driven by your determination, you choose to linger, patiently awaiting the arrival of anyone who might shed light on this enigmatic locale.

Before long, a throng of individuals begins to populate the streets, engrossed in animated conversations about a mysterious figure. Seizing the opportunity, you approach yet another woman, hopeful that this encounter will yield concrete information. "Excuse me, could you please guide me to a local Inn?" you inquire, your anticipation palpable. She glances at you briefly, breaking into a warm smile as she responds, "Certainly! There's a delightful Inn just three streets down on your right. They offer the most exquisite breakfast you'll ever taste."

Following the precise directions imparted by the kind lady earlier, you traverse the path until you stand before a quaint, inviting Inn. Driven by a sense of urgency, you swiftly enter its premises, the melodious chime of the bell resonating through the air as you await the arrival of staff. In mere minutes, a genial elderly gentleman descends a flight of stairs and stands before you.

With great efficiency, he completes the check-in process, guiding you to your abode while graciously outlining the meal timings for breakfast and dinner. Expressing your gratitude to the amiable man, you enter your room—a haven that exudes a comforting familiarity. It may not be extravagant, but it possesses an ambiance that befits a temporary home for the days ahead. Settling into the embrace of your soft sheets, you quickly succumb to the embrace of a deep, restful slumber.

The following morning you wake up to the smell of steamed fish and miso soup followed by the rich scent of green tea, not wanting to waste anymore time you get up and head straight down not caring if others say your bed head and morning face. When you had entered the kitchen area you were greeted by the innkeeper and his wife who both greeted you with a warm smile, taking a seat you thank the couple before digging into the food. And just as fast as lightning strikes you finish your meal, thanking the couple again you get up and head to your room and get dressed for the day.

Every aspect of your journey had unfolded flawlessly. Your sales in the town had flourished, reaching such unprecedented heights that you found yourself compelled to hastily return to the comforting confines of the inn to replenish your supplies. Among your assortment of goods, the Anise herb had proven to be an unrivaled sensation, captivating the locals with its exquisite qualities, not only as an ingredient for teas and culinary delights but also as a sacred component of spiritual practices.

Yet, as the days wore on and your presence lingered, a disconcerting shift gradually pervaded the villagers' countenances. Their once-welcoming gazes now bore a tinge of skepticism, tinged with hints of bitterness. Perplexed by this subtle change, you turned to the innkeeper in search of answers, sensing that he held insights into the community's transformation. Meeting your gaze, he shared a solemn glance with his wife, silently exchanging a wordless conversation before summoning a deep breath, preparing himself to disclose the unsettling truth.

"Some of the townspeople have developed unfounded suspicions regarding the herbs you've been selling," the innkeeper says his voice laden with a mix of regret and concern. As his words settled in, you furrowed your brow, the perplexity deepening within you. The innkeeper, caught in the weight of the moment, briefly shifted his gaze towards his wife, releasing an audible sigh, before turning his attention back to you, his eyes brimming with a mixture of empathy and uncertainty.

"With an air of certainty and seriousness, he declares, 'I believe it's high time you embrace the devotion.'" As you gaze at the pair, your face displays a mix of curiosity and skepticism, only fueling the old man's determination. "Tonight, when we depart, why not accompany us?" After pondering for a moment, you nod in agreement, accepting their invitation. With a decisive motion, you rise from the table and make your way to your room, eagerly anticipating the night's arrival.

Finally, the innkeeper's wife delicately knocked on your door. As you graciously opened it, donning a beautiful kimono, she couldn't help but admire your elegance. She led you outside, where her husband awaited, and together the three of you embarked on a captivating journey towards a temple located on the tranquil shores of the town's shimmering lake.

As you arrived, a sight unfolded before you: the townspeople, donned in exquisite formal attire, and amidst them, a young woman who seemed to emanate ethereal beauty in her silk white dress, resembling a goddess beneath the gentle moonlight. Curiosity piqued within you, yet the innkeeper, placing a finger over his mouth, gestured for silence. The intrigue grew, fueling your desire to uncover the secrets held within. Before any questions formed in your mind, an elderly man stepped onto a stool and began to eloquently address the gathered crowd.

The people gathered eagerly, their anticipation palpable, as they formed a circle around the old man who was about to speak. He began, "Tonight, this young woman shall surrender herself to the embrace of a benevolent deity. But before this sacred act, the divine entity wishes to hear words of praise from each of you. Therefore, I kindly request that you enter the chamber individually."

Then with the assistance of some younger gentlemen, the old man descended from his elevated position. In the ensuing commotion, as everyone vied for a place at the forefront, you unwittingly found yourself in line with the innkeeper and his wife. Oblivious to the chaos, you patiently progressed forward, steadily moving closer to the coveted destination. Finally, after a few more minutes, your turn arrived, and you stood at the threshold.

As you entered, two women warmly greeted you, immediately guiding you through the necessary steps without giving you a chance to change. They skillfully attended to your body, ensuring everything was fixed to your satisfaction. Leading you down a captivating hallway, they unveiled a grand red door adorned with vibrant golden paint.

Before you could fully appreciate its beauty, the door swung open, gently nudging you forward. Once inside, you obediently followed their instruction to bow your head until the door's opening and closing sounds reached your ears, signaling permission to raise your gaze. Abiding by this rule, you patiently awaited the moment, feeling a growing sense of urgency as the door opened wider. Nevertheless, you resisted the temptation to flee.

Once the door closed behind you, you finally looked up, only to behold a remarkable sight—a man with flowing blonde hair and mesmerizing eyes, a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors that seemed to stretch into eternity.

Seated directly across from you, his gaze locked with yours, intensifying the already charged atmosphere that seemed to constrict your throat. "My beloved followers, how may I assist you?" he inquired, his voice dancing between playful and serious, amplifying the pressure in the room. As soon as his words concluded, your mind frantically searched for a request, fearing disappointment if you failed to present a genuine need. Summoning the remnants of your inner strength, you spoke, "I desire the power to alleviate people's pain and suffering."

His contemplative gaze lingered for a moment, then he waved his fan and uttered a whispered incantation. "May your wish be granted," he murmured, and in an instant, you were escorted out by temple maidens. Stepping into the open air, you collapsed to your knees, overwhelmed. Reflecting on your encounter, you pondered the enigma that stood before you in that room. Though you had encountered demons before, his essence defied classification, leaving you with lingering questions about his true nature.

Barely had you a moment to collect your thoughts when the innkeeper and his wife rushed to your side, bombarding you with an onslaught of questions about your encounter with the all-powerful Lord Doma. Overwhelmed, you responded mostly with nods and gestures, trying to make sense of it all.

After a few minutes, you managed to regain your composure, rising to your feet and taking deep, steadying breaths. In that moment, a realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. “What could someone as mighty as Lord Doma possibly want with that young lady from earlier?” You says with a nasty taste in your mouth.

Puzzled, you directed your query to the innkeeper as the two of you made your way back to the inn. In a solemn tone, he replied, "Most of the young women chosen by Lord Doma become part of him, assimilating their exquisite beauty and unparalleled power." You shook your head in disbelief, the implications of such a fate signaling a grim reality.

It has been some time since your fateful encounter with Lord Doma, and although he frightened you, you couldn't resist finding yourself at the temple every night, seeking help. At times, you questioned your sanity, yearning to be one of the young ladies dressed in white, offered to Lord Doma.

Yet, you tried to dismiss such thoughts, focusing solely on the improvement of your business. It seemed that after visiting the temple, rumors about you vanished, and you gained the trust of the townsfolk, who now valued your herbs and spices. Considering leaving in a few weeks, confident in your newfound financial stability, your plans took an unexpected turn when the innkeeper and his wife entered the kitchen, bearing surprising news.

"The innkeeper's wife beamed with delight as she revealed, 'You've been chosen as an offering for Lord Doma! Isn't it simply marvelous?' Her face radiated happiness, but you couldn't hide your apprehension. While fleeting thoughts of such a fate crossed your mind, you certainly didn't desire to be selected. It meant a lifetime spent with a being that could only be described as a monstrous entity, if that was even what it truly was.

Without uttering a word, you mustered a faint smile before excusing yourself and retiring to your room. As you climbed into bed and rested your head on the pillow, tears welled up, silently streaming down your face. Gradually, you drifted off to sleep, only to awaken and realize that night had yet to descend. Determined, you resolved to devise a plan to uncover the true nature of that mysterious being, before the townspeople offered you as a sacrifice to whatever unknown force awaited."

Prior to the villagers making their way to the temple, you resolved to slip away unnoticed and uncover the true identity of these men before you became their offering. Swiftly, you navigated through the temple, deftly evading both the temple maidens and the monks. Eventually, you reached the temple's entrance and headed straight for the ominous red door, but this time, you didn't wait for guidance.

With a determined push, you swung the door wide open and stepped inside, only to find an empty room. However, an unsettling sense of fear and discomfort washed over you, reminiscent of when you first encountered Lord Doma. To maintain cover, you sought refuge in a nearby closet, waiting anxiously. As anticipated, Doma made his appearance, accompanied by a group of unmistakable individuals—a demon, recognizable by his vibrant pink hair and intricate blue patterns adorning his body.

You stayed in the closet hand covering your mouth so your breath can’t be heard, you also made sure to place yourself where their was a small crack in the door so you could still hear and see what was going on between the two. “When are you finally going to start eating women Lord Akaza, you know it would make you stronger ~.” Doma says in a playful tone as he grabs he’s arms around the demon you now know as Akaza. “I could even help if you want you know the villagers give me a fresh maiden very night, and I would be happy to share with you Lord A-“ Doma tries to continue but before he could Akaza vanished into thin air leaving him all behind. “You could have at least said bye”

And with that, Doma gracefully exits the room, relieving you of the oppressive atmosphere. As you slowly remove your hand from your face, you take a deep breath, allowing the tension to dissipate. Suddenly, Doma reappears, swiftly dragging you out of the closet and encircling you in his arms, sending shivers of true fear down your spine for the very first time.

"Oh, that expression on your face is simply precious," Doma remarks, a chilling blend of amusement and malevolence evident in his voice. He proceeds to guide you to his throne, dropping you before him, his commanding presence towering over you like that of a deity. "Now, little mouse, what brings you to my domain?" he playfully inquires, his tone laced with a venomous undertone. Despite the mounting anger, you choose to remain silent, a decision that only manages to further incense him.

"Well, since you refuse to speak, perhaps I should jog your memory," he taunts, driving a finger straight through his own head, searching for something that wouldn't be necessary later. Panic sets in as you desperately scan the room for any possible escape routes, but every thought of fleeing only ends with the inevitability of getting caught.

Just as Doma draws closer to you, you prepare to rise and make a run for it, but he senses your intentions and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "My dear follower, surely you don't believe I would truly harm you," his voice now smooth like honey, yet playful like a summer breeze. Conflicted and uncertain, you find yourself torn between the instinct to flee and an inexplicable pull to stay.

Somehow, your body betrays your mind, allowing you to wrench Doma's hands off your shoulder and make a frantic dash towards the door. However, before you can grasp the handle, he swiftly seizes your wrist with one hand, his other preventing you from opening the door.

As you struggled against his grip, a chilling sensation enveloped your body, gradually draining away your warmth. In a state of confusion and desperation, you continued to writhe, but each movement only seemed to trap you further. Time stretches out, transforming moments into agonizing hours, while your thoughts become muddled and disoriented—a state precisely orchestrated by him.

With a devilish smile and seemingly sincere eyes, he inquired, "Are you alright, little mouse?" Your head shook, offering a hesitant nod as a response. Sensing your vulnerability, Doma pressed on, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, little mouse, what is it that you desire from me?" As he began to trace tight circles on the back of your hands, a strange submission washed over you.

You uttered, "To be by your side, Lord Doma," feeling as if your mind had been shattered and pieced together for the sole purpose of someone else's amusement. With a twisted sense of fulfillment, he replied, "If that is your wish, then I shall grant it to you."

Skip (Got Lazy Plus it’s already long af)

Doma's lips trailed down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His hands worked their magic, caressing your sensitive nubs in tight, circular motions, eliciting a sinful moan from your lips. "Feeling a bit aroused already, my dear mouse? Don't be shy, let me explore your body and see how much more I can make you quiver," Doma whispers as his hands glide down to your pulsating center.

With the gentle touch of his finger, he teased your sensitive cunt, sending shivers down your spine. His movements were slow and deliberate, tracing circles around your slick folds, causing your lips to swell with desire.

As he persisted, you attempted to clench your thighs together, hoping to alleviate the throbbing sensation. However, Doma caught sight of your futile efforts and proceeded to drag his moistened fingers across your slick entrance, tracing a path up to the very center of your abdomen.

The sensation sent electric shocks down your spine, as you felt his nails graze against the fabric of your clothing. “Come now , little mouse. If you keep those legs shut like that, I won't be able to feel every inch of myself inside you," he whispers as he pokes the center of your stomach. The ache between your thighs is becoming unbearable, begging for release.

“So, mouse, shall I take you into my arms and lavish you with all the pleasure you desire? “ He says as he leans in closer, his hands firmly grip the sides of your thighs, gently parting them to reveal your glistening cunt to anyone who might happen upon the scene."Please, Lord Doma," you whispered, your voice filled with desire and impatience.

You were aching to feel his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your body, especially between your thighs. "Mmm...you look so delicious," he whispers, his gaze trailing down your body and lingering on the way your legs are spread open. With a sly grin, he slipped his finger under your panties and pulled it down, feeling your wetness cling to his skin. He couldn't resist the urge to lick his lips in anticipation. “You're already so wet for me.” He say’s making you feel his hot breath right against your cunt.

You try to resist, but he only chuckles and starts to slowly pull down your panties. His gaze was filled with desire as he hungrily devoured every inch of my body, as if I were the most sacred flower in the world.

Your wet folds were illuminated by the moonlight that came in from a small space in the door, creating a seductive glow. As he traced his finger along your velvety folds, he couldn't help but get lost in the moment. The sound of your breathy moan sent shivers down his spine, igniting a fiery desire within him.

As he traced a long, slow line with his tongue along your sweet, wet folds, you gasped and moaned, lost in the throes of pleasure. The intensity of the moment left you breathless, your body aching for more. Your lips parted with a soft moan as he sensually explored your body, his tongue tracing every inch of your skin.

He focused on the way your body quivered with pleasure as he teased your sensitive clit, savoring the taste of your sweet wetness as it dripped down his chin. As his lips remained firmly attached to your sensitive clit, you couldn't help but grip onto the bamboo mat in ecstasy.

"Mmm... you're so good, Mouse," he moans as his nails dig into your thighs, sending shivers of pleasure through your body and leaving marks that make you feel both sore and satisfied. His tongue sensually traced up and down your throbbing clit, causing your legs to tightly wrap around his head as you squirmed on the floor, yearning for more. "Fuck…sh-I'm cumming, oh Lord Doma, please," you moan, feeling as if all the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

"Mmm, let go for me, my little mouse," he whispers into your wetness, sending shivers down your spine. And as the moments passed, you felt yourself succumbing to his every touch, unraveling completely under his skillful hands. "Shit,little mouse, you taste so delicious both inside and out. I think it's time for me to fuck you and make you lose your mind," he whispers, his hand resting on the soft curve of your stomach.

After sensually licking his lips of your delicious wetness, he shifted his position, gazing down at you with a primal hunger, as if you were the most succulent dish he had ever laid eyes on. With a seductive glint in his eyes, he revealed his throbbing cock, the tip glistening with a tantalizing bead of precum. As his throbbing member tantalized your eager opening. "Ho-, yes," you moaned softly as you squirmed with anticipation, imagining him filling you up and molding his cock perfectly to your insides.

With a deep moan, he slid himself inside your dripping cunt. Slowly and sensually, he explored every inch of your body, savoring every taste and sensation. With his head nestled on your shoulder, you could feel his sweet moans reverberating through your body. Your gaze drifted downwards, and you couldn't help but notice the bulge growing in your stomach. The thought of being filled to the brim with him, until you were left feeling empty without his throbbing cock inside your slick, dripping cunt, made you squirm with desire.

“L-lord Ah Doma, I beg of you, fuck me with your throbbing cock until my mind is consumed with thoughts of your throbbing cock and how it stretches me to my limits.” You whisper seductively as you press your body against his, craving his touch as if it were the only thing that could satisfy your deepest desires. "Oh, little mouse, you can't tease me like that," Doma growls as he slides his throbbing cock back into your wetness, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“M’m Lord Doma, soo deep … fu-.”

Your sultry hums, seductive whines, and passionate moans, reverberated throughout the room, igniting a fiery desire within me. As he plunged deep inside you, hitting that perfect spot, waves of ecstasy rippled through your body.

“F..Fuck little mouse you feel so good when you tighten around me like that.” Doma says as he sinks his teeth into your neck, you feel a rush of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation of your blood trickling down your skin only adds to the intense eroticism of the moment. His tongue sensually caresses the crimson liquid, making you feel a rush of desire and causing your body to writhe with pleasure. You let out a sultry moan, unashamed of your desire as the erotic ambiance enveloped you.

He pulled out with a tantalizing slowness, only to thrust himself back into you with a fierce intensity that left you gasping for air. Your lips parted in a breathless gasp, and your body was left trembling with desire. Your supple body arched with hunger as you wrapped your luscious legs around his strong waist.Making him hit even deeper inside you to the point you could feel his cock kissing up against your cervix. Your tightness around him was driving him wild, eliciting a soft moan from his lips. But even though you were driving him wild with pleasure, he still craved to see you whimpering and moaning mess around his cock

With that desire burning within him, he began to pound into you with fervor, his throbbing cock delving deeper and deeper into your depths, exploring uncharted territory within you that you never knew existed. You were starting to grow numb in his grasp as he took over every inch of your sinful body. As you surrendered to ecstasy, all you could focus on was the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, and the rhythmic collision of his hips against yours.

“Lord Doma, I’m about to cum”

"I know, I know," he whispered sensually into your neck. As his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses and gentle bites. He felt his body quiver as your walls started to vibrate around him. The sensation was beginning to consume him with an insatiable desire. You were so intoxicatingly delicious that he yearned to remain deep within you. "Cum for me, my little mouse," he whispers in a seductive tone against your neck. You began to writhe against his hips, desperate to feel the intense pleasure building inside you.

“Come on, Lord Doma. Fill me up. To the point I look pregnant” you hissed as he thrust into you no longer caring about his speed of strength.

Your breath became ragged and your moans grew louder as he kept taking you. It was overwhelming, yet tantalizingly insufficient. He was absolutely incredible. Finally, he came apart, shooting a hot load deep inside your womb, causing your body to convulse with pleasure as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. As your body writhed in pleasure, Doma couldn't help but be captivated by the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, your moans of pleasure filling the room as your orgasm washed over you.

You both nestled in each other's arms, relishing the tender embrace. Eventually, Doma gently urged you to rest, and you welcomed the suggestion with delight. As slumber claimed you, a soothing blanket of warmth enveloped your being. In that ethereal realm, you yearned to eternally dwell, and indeed, you did.

"Why do you behave in such a manner? Your sole purpose seems to be granting women a fleeting taste of love and hope before devouring them. Why not simply consume them outright from the beginning and be done with it?" Akaza says face contorted in disgust as he expressed his thoughts. Doma however only wore a twisted grin, and countered, "Beautiful things deserve to be cherished before their eventual destruction, don't they?" Dismissing the conversation, Akaza muttered, "Whatever," and departed, feeling that any further moments spent in this company would sicken him.

"Perhaps one day you will come to comprehend," Doma replied, his words laced with a hint of enigmatic wisdom. He gracefully made his way back to his chair, deftly retrieving his hat. “Go ahead, Please send them in” he gestured, extending a polite invitation for the visitors to enter.