dbopdew

[dbopdew]

I’ve been busy with multiple jobs, but here’s a little Demiurge fanart with his hellfire :)

[dbopdew]

I'm contributing to this poorly drawn meme on behalf of Overlord fans 😭

[dbopdew]

This was something I did back in 2022, and I have to say I think my art has definitely grown way more than what I did back then. I was really digging Power from CSM, lmao. Thought her and Demiurge from Overlord could commit atrocities or something.

[dbopdew]

Hi, I'm just opening up some commission stuff for April. Only accepting five as I know I don't often have a lot of time to work on stuff and want to be sure to get anyone their commission in a timely manner. I want to just be able to practice with this sort of colorful style. Message me if you're interested! I draw more than just Demiurge, but he is my hyper-fixation... So yeah.

[dbopdew]

So well put!

Villain-Fucker Angst Hours

Good timezone, darlings~ Are you ready to get all up in your feelings? No? Me neither, loves, but here we are regardless so the words are going to flow as they usually do... This is focused on Raphael from Baldur's Gate 3 and his fandom, but the latter section can easily apply to any villain fandom.

Self-Analysis of Devil-Fuckery, Or Why Do I Adore Raphael When He Is Very Obviously Evil: A Short Essay by TavyliaSin (Who Still Cannot Name Anything With Less Than A Full Paragraph) ((NSFW)) (((Game Spoilers)))

The following may discuss heavier topics, but without specifics, so whilst it should be safe for most to read without triggering any difficult memories please be aware of Raphael's entire vibes, the content and context of his story, and I'd also like to mention that this isn't a "woe be us for we are terrible people" piece, it's actually more about:

"There is an inherent kindness and warmth to much of the Raphael fandom, and I think there could be some common threads behind that, pulling us all in closer in a comforting blanket that we wrap around each other to keep out the cold of the world."

So, what in the nine hells am I on about? Well. Raphael-fandom is a wild and wonderful place to be. The rest is in sections, so feel free to skip through to what you feel is relevant to your interests. I am so prone to waffle I should open a restaurant~

Who Are Fans Of Raphael? What Do They Want?

We are feral, unhinged, all sheets to the wind "I want that devil man, carnally, and there is no force in all the planes that could stop me". There's the vanilla to the extreme and every level in between, tops, bottoms, versatiles, Doms, subs, and switches - there are a whole lot of people who would love to get their hands on either (or both) of Raphael's forms, for a simple smooch or something far more spicy~ [edited in] To add on to this, not all of us even desire him in a sexual way, for many it is romantic, soft, or even just the rather pleasant thought of spending an evening with drinks by the hellfire because he would be fascinating company. Aces, Aros, and AroAces may all find themselves well within the devilish corners of fandom too~ which is a whole other essay~ [end edit] So, I see you. I'm one of you. Extremely loud and utterly hingeless in my fan appreciation for Raphael. He's one of my favourites to write about, I seek art of him, and the same goes for his mirrored other half, Haarlep, who I arguably love more despite there being far less content of them in the game.

And the Fandom? The Vibe?

From my experience in the Raphael Fandom areas, we have a very deep and abiding understanding of consent, respect, and treating each other with an absolute and uncompromising kindness. We've had talks about keeping each other safe in fandom, exchanged details of people we have encountered who need to be avoided, even shared details between moderators of different fandom servers to pre-ban people proven to be creeps and/or art thieves. We've also discussed consent, including the issues with it in the game, and how areas of the story can only really be considered dubious at best and could easily be triggering for people. And these discussions have been open, honest, fair, and with the acknowledgement that most of us love these scenes anyway. So there's a sense of care that runs through everything, behind the horny-posting and fan content, behind the endless thirsting after our favourite fictional characters. We have a depth of kindness that warms my sinners soul every time I see it.

What Does This Have To Do With Self-Reflection, Raphael, or Villainy In General?

Well let's look at Raphael. He's a villain, obviously. He's manipulative, devious, and inherently evil by his very nature. He keeps Hope chained in his basement, constantly subjected to endless torture. There's also mention of how Gortash was sold into his service at a young age, clearly not an enjoyable experience given the other details and how things turn out (particularly as Raphael would need Gortash's own plans to fail entirely in order for him to succeed in his own and get that crown). And as fans, we accept that. We don't sit making excuses, or trying to say "well actually Gortash is a little shit and Hope probably deserve it", and we don't shy away from or conveniently ignore those darker sides of him with malicious intent to enable more evil to flourish. What I noticed, when I allowed the thoughts to continue, is that there is a theme here.

If Evil Can Be Loved Then So Can I

That's the core. Of course, darlings, I am not claiming to be a heinous monster. I certainly do not have a laundry list of crimes that would make the devil himself say "Uh, that's a bit much." But I sure as fuck treat myself like I do sometimes. You see, I think a lot of us have that tendency, to judge ourselves far more harshly than anyone else. Our patience, understanding, and forgiveness for others runs deeper than the Mariana Trench, but when it comes to our own flaws? One minor mistake and we think ourselves to be the worst beings ever to disgrace the earth. Thus, the villainy we see reflects how we are treating ourselves. So by loving and accepting all of those things that should be terrible, hated, we are actually learning that no matter how poorly we think of ourselves that we can be worthy of that same love and acceptance. We are extending the affection we are unable to show ourselves to someone we see the worst parts of ourselves amplified within. And that's why villains attract the people with the most kindness. The most forgiveness. Because it takes someone with a truly huge amount of empathy to find love for the embodiment of evil.

Or, IDK, maybe villains are just hot and we're too far down to care.

But wait, before you go!

THERE'S SOMETHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT.

All of this is about FICTION. We should never be accepting of the kinds of evil we see in the game irl. We do not owe anyone kindness if they do not show it to us.

What is hot in fiction is not always OK IRL.

Look after yourselves out there, remember that consent is key in all things, and please do try to learn to love yourselves, darlings, you are worthy of it and you should judge yourself by the same standard you judge others. If you are in doubt, if you are worried, if you feel afraid - reach out, talk to someone. There are many who will listen.

Treat yourself as you would treat a friend. You deserve that much.

Oh, and all Raphael fans who understand kindness are welcome around me, any hour of the day, I adore our little fandom circles and would gladly collect all of us together. I'm following a lot of you as soon as I find you, like hunting shiny pokemon~

See you in Avernus, my darling Little Mice, may we all find joy in the Cambion's Embrace~

[dbopdew]

I agree with this.

That Larian expects me to go about my day and be normal when Raphael exists in the game they created, all the while not letting us romance him, sleep with him, or at least give us a spare him in battle option is a crime against me personally.

[dbopdew]

This is for Inktober, Day 5: Map.

Literally just Demiurge in a desert reading a map, maybe finding the perfect location for the Happy Farm.

[dbopdew]

Sweet froggy demon.

[dbopdew]

Demiurge dressed up like a bunny for bunny day!!

[dbopdew]

I have nothing to say, but I have these images of Demiurge being cute in Overlord.

[dbopdew]

EeEEEEEEEEeeeee

[dbopdew]

Please help out a friendo!

This year has been a pretty tough one for the both of us and we need a bit of help with our new (and hopefully better) start in a new state.

[dbopdew]

Got a Demiurge tattoo!

[dbopdew]

Hey, I've been working on art, but it is 18+ so Tumblr isn't a fan of that. I'll be sharing that on pixiv!

[dbopdew]

[Commission] The Thirst for Knowledge - Chapter 2

Commission for @dbopdew

Description: Still new to her life in Nazarick, the half-elf continues to walk in the footsteps of her teacher--her Master.

Pairing: Demon x Half-elf

Rating: NSFW

Kinks: Master/ Pet, Spanking.

Words: 3139

Part 1

Life in Nazarick was something one had to adjust to.

She was hardly expecting Death Knights to just randomly show up at her front door unannounced by Ainz’s command as they usually did. Sadly, with him being the ruler of this Sorcerer Kingdom, she had little say in the matter.

“I can smell the stench so easily,” she muttered to herself, knowing the undead could only really go by simple commands alone. Not like a rotted corpse could hear her complaints.

Making it to the door, she opened it to be greeted by two Death Knights and—.

“Mm, h-hello.”

The intimidated voice caught her attention, making her look downward at a small dark elf that looked to be a little girl on sight alone. But she knew better. It was Mare Bello Fiore, the twin sibling to Aura Bella Fiore.

It was the apprentice Demiurge mentioned now and again. She just never really got the opportunity to work alongside him or even know anything about him other than he was a druid himself.

“I was umm, asked by Lord Ainz if you had any of the Heart Root Seed you used before when training along Lord Demiurge.” He was acting embarrassed, as though this was hard for him to say before her. Gripping the gnarled staff he held, he pressed his knees together while looking off to the side.

“The Heart Root Seed?” It wasn't her place to ask why Ainz would need it.

It was a horrific way to go, if she ever wanted to unleash it upon anybody. She could slip it into the open wound of someone when trying to fight them face-to-face. Demiurge had taught her to be more subtle in the act when he trained her out on the battlefield. When the seed managed to get into the bloodstream, it used that as water while migrating directly to the heart where it would take root and slowly—agonizingly so—sprout from the chest.

It could be used to puppeteer people to do as the caster intended. Some on the outside looking in, considered it a zombie type of virus where the person being manipulated knew what was going on but could do nothing to stop it.

She raised her hand, asking for a moment as she ventured back into her little home covered in vines and flowers. Looking over her shoulder, she noted Mare was peeking inside with his staff near his chest in intrigue.

“You can come in if you like.” She noted the Death Knights attempting to as well. “Err, just yourself, if you don't mind, Lord Mare.”

“O-Okay!” Mare raised his hand to send an order to the undead behind him. “You can wait here! I’ll be right back.”

With the door shut behind him, she gave a nervous chuckle. “I hope you don't mind. I don't want my plants to wilt or anything. The air in here needs to be clean for some of the things I cultivate.”

“Lord Demiurge said you are a druid as w-well.” Mare inched a bit closer to her side. “What kind of spells do you know?” He sounded intrigued, as though this was all new to him—having somebody to relate with. 

“I know the occasional healing spell or two as well as a few torture spells that Lord Demiurge is going out of his way to teach me.” Thinking about the title even Mare gave him, she couldn't help but be curious. “By the way, Lord Mare… why do you even refer to Lord Demiurge by such an important title?”

“Eh?” Mare seemed stumped by that. “Well, umm, I can just call him Demiurge, but even as a Floor Guardian he umm.. He ranks above me…”

“Oh, I see.” After rummaging through her belongings, she managed to find the seed Ainz requested. “What about yourself?” she asked, handing the item over. “I’ve heard you’re actually quite strong according to Lord Demiurge.”

“M-M-Me??” The lowered ears of the elf began to wiggle, as if embarrassed he would even be praised. “Oh, I umm.. I don't know about that! Nobody can be stronger than L-Lord Ainz!”

“I’m certain that’s not what he meant,” she insisted with a gentle laugh. “I am sure he meant when compared among the other Floor Guardians.”

Still, it was hard for Mare to ever consider himself stronger than the others. He often felt inadequate if anything. “Well, umm. I guess…”

She smiled warmly. “You’re a great healer, aren't you?”

“I’ve been told I am.” Mare’s smile was encouraged with the talk as he pocketed the seed Ainz requested. “But, what’s your f-favorite flower?”

“Flower?” She never thought much about that one. “I guess the cosmic bloom one that Demiurge mentioned not that long ago when we went to see the stars in the night sky.”

It was a gorgeous flower that when it was in full bloom looked like the galaxy itself. The colors and sparkling petals made it appear as something completely foreign from the world she knew.

Mare hummed in thought, catching a bit of interesting mannerisms in the way she mentioned such a thing. “O-Oh..I see.” He stifled a small chuckle. “Mm, well, mine is the scarlet pimpernel. Th-The blue one. It looks like the sky. I sometimes use them in umm my plant attacks. I make sure that they sprout on the branches and things of my vines and roots.”

That actually sounded quite interesting. She never thought of doing such a thing herself. “Lord Mare, I was curious… Perhaps you could teach me to do such a thing in the future with my own abilities?”

“M-Me?!” He was a bit excited at the thought of being chosen to help someone new to Nazarick, but also a bit intimidated.

“Yes, I am learning from Master Demiurge just as you are at times, but I feel two druids could easily learn from one another a bit better. Don't you agree?”

His grip tightened on the staff as he nodded. “Y-Yes! That would be g-great!”

Before another word could be spoken, the dark elf paused as he placed his index and middle finger to the side of his head to receive an incoming [Message].

“O-Oh, yes Lord Demiurge! I’ll be there soon!” He smiled up at her for a brief moment before looking off to the side as if embarrassed once more. “I, umm, I better go deliver this to Lord Ainz. He’s asking for it!” He bowed. “Thank you again! I hope we can talk again soon!”

She wished she could give him something else beyond a mere torture plant that needed to go to his Master. Sadly, the idea was swiftly gone from her as Mare had left the house and ventured back out to the Death Knights.

Silence filled the home once more.

The moment she was alone with her thoughts, she found herself swimming in nothing but memories and conversations past with Demiurge, the devil of Nazarick.

Even if Ainz blessed the idea of the two in a relationship, she couldn't exactly wrap her mind around it. Why would an evil being bless such a union? It felt almost too good to be true.

Before she could even continue to let her thoughts race about, she heard a knock at the door. It was a sort of knock she recognized right away given how patient and regal it came across.

The door opened and Demiurge stepped foot inside to greet her. “How have things been fairing lately?” 

The wicked grin that would make others crumple to their knees in fear encouraged her heart to flutter. “I’ve been doing what I can.” She laughed a bit. “Sadly I can’t really do the sex magic practices without you.”

It was the devil’s turn to suppress his own chuckle. “True.” He inched closer to her, closing the distance between them. “But, that’s not exactly what I had in mind—for the moment.”

The way he paused confessing such a thing made her wonder what exactly he was hiding. “Then what did you have in mind?”

Demiurge appeared stumped on how to even express himself in that regard. For once, his grin faltered as if finding himself at a crossroads of sorts. “How about we head to the field of flowers once more as we have always been doing lately?” His fingers unfurled from his palm, asking for her touch in return. “I just wish to merely… experience a few things with you.”

The way he spoke made her cheeks feel warm. Accepting the offer, she found herself leaving her small house once more with her master—her mate.

It was a bit of a walk to this hill they often sat at and enjoyed in one another’s company together. She wondered why he didn't care to get a ride or at least fly them there but kept quiet on the matter.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve been beside me,” Demiurge finally said. His words oddly sounded a bit uncertain of how to go about this. “How do you feel living with us?”

It sounded like he was searching for a specific answer, but to lie to a demon would be her downfall. They thrived on lies and could easily sense them.

“I enjoy it quite a lot, really.” Her hand crawled against the cuff of his sleeve before moving between the divide of his fingers to hold his hand. “I just wish that you and I could live on the same plain of existence.”

His grip curled, holding her hand. “Mm? What do you mean?”

She sighed. “Well… you have to be on the Seventh Floor a lot of the time, and I sadly can’t live there like I wish I could. If I were to even move my home to your floor, it would probably burn to the ground.”

It was a sad truth that very few could make their way to his domain given how ungodly hot it was. Only those with fire resistance or races that could completely nullify any fire that extreme would be able to.

That usually meant demons and undead. It was a bit of a lonely life in that regard.

“Afraid that, until I can find a means to protect you, I won’t be able to see that the gap between us closed.” He paused, thinking about the surrounding floors nearby his. “However, there are the Sixth and Eighth Floors you could live on with ease. The Sixth belongs to the twins, Aura and Mare, while the Eighth belongs to Victim. Both are peaceful areas that have climates that wouldn't harm you. In fact, I am certain with how Mare behaves about you lately, he wouldn't mind you moving somewhere to the Sixth Floor if need be.”

“What has he said about me?”

“I am no fool with how often he looks for any and all excuses to sneak off and speak to you about something regarding plants, my dear.”

She thought about it. “I do suppose that living with Mare would be interesting and far more enjoyable than just living outside of Nazarick.” She couldn't help but feel her being outside of the tomb was just because of Ainz's lack of trust.

“I am certain I can speak with Lord Ainz about this all soon. Knowing him, he possibly had an idea in mind with you being on the outskirts of Nazarick instead of offering you a place within the walls of the tomb.”

The sun slowly began to set, giving a beautiful combination of oranges, reds and purples into the oncoming night sky. It made her excited as the two of them got closer and closer to the hill of flowers that would have one of her all time favorite flowers upon it.

She hurried ahead of him, making it to the hill as the sun was soon buried just behind the mountains across the way.

“I can’t wait to see it,” she whispered in anticipation.

The moment Demiurge joined her side, the night was soon upon them. The cosmic bloom glittered like sparkling jewels in the night the moment the stars blanketed the sky above.

“Do you enjoy your new life here?”

Hearing him ask such a thing caught her off guard. She looked at him, wondering where this was going. “Of course.” Her fingers slid between the divide of his to hold him close once more. “I’m here. With you. Why wouldn't I be content?”

The devil couldn't help but overthink every possibility in life—not just his Lord’s words but his own actions as well. In a way, he had bothered to bring her into Nazarick for her own thirst of knowledge under him. But was she happy there?

Seeing the look in her eyes, he accepted that answer.

Curving his finger under her chin, he urged her closer to his lips. The devil’s mouth laid to rest upon hers. The feel of his tongue caressing her lower lip made her heart flutter. She responded in kind, opening her mouth to accept him and his advances.

The palm of his hand crept upon her body before his claws curled with obsessive want upon her throat.

Her breathing hitched as her body fell to submission of what she knew her Master was to order even without words.

“Submit to me,” he breathed hotly.

She could taste those words, making her mind become foggy. Their clothing was discarded in a single instance to where only the starlight bathed them. What once was his grasp transformed into a twisted collar he could easily spawn by his touch alone. The golden outline twisted like waves upon the ocean while the leather itself was handmade and painted red.

Grabbing the chain that he manifested, he tugged on it to see her down on her hands and knees. Dropping to one knee himself, he moved his palm across her back till making it to the curve of her ass.

Her head lowered, panting heavily as her legs trembled. At this point she nearly felt no different than a prized horse being on display for others to marvel at.

But the humiliation was intoxicating. So much so she hadn't even realized she was wet from the thoughts running through her mind till Demiurge slipped his index and middle finger upon the lips of her entrance.

“You're already anticipating me, aren’t you?” He pulled his fingers from her, letting the lubrication speak for itself. Bringing it to his lips, he delighted himself on the intoxicating scent before flicking his tongue across his fingers. “Well then…” His words derailed as he grabbed onto his belt, folding it in his hands to slam it down hard upon her backside.

“AH!” Collapsing onto her forearms, she shivered as the stinging sensation budded into something erotic. Ever since Demiurge got his hands on her and introduced her to the erotic side of even magical practices, she found a lot of ideas were quite stimulating.

Feeling him spanking her, no matter the means, was one of them.

Demiurge pulled the belt back once more, smacking it against her other ‘cheek’ just to see and hear the same reaction before grabbing the reddened flesh in his hand to squeeze.

“You appear even more enticed,” he said with a delighted grin.

The building excitement was burning in her gut as she looked over her shoulder at Demiurge. “Y-Yes…! Do you have plans for…anything regarding all this…M-Master?”

“Perhaps.”

It was a simple word that was intentionally left vague, but she could feel the intention buried within it.

The devil shifted in the moonlight, the head of his cock pressing against the lips of her entrance to where her breathing became all the more labored. His hand twirled about the chain, tugging on it once more to pull upon to where she responded in kind.

She was forced backward, the head of his erection opening her womanhood for him alone.

Gods above, this is driving me insane! She mentally thought, her body quivering as every veiny inch of himself was urging her to open for him. “F-Fuck…Master…!” she howled, her knees digging into the ground below.

“Don't fight me, pet,” Demiurge ordered through his fangs. He huffed through his nostrils at the erotic warmth that embraced his throbbing length. For a demon that was starved for any and all connection to outside life, this was like the devil himself being welcomed into paradise.

Soon he was sheathed completely. The curly mound of hair teased her skin, making the half-elf lose the ability to speak.

Demiurge reached around, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him from just over her shoulder. “I don't believe I heard you, pet.”

Before she could hope to even say another word, the demon slipped his fingers into her mouth to halt the thought, making her suck upon them.

His rhythm in and out of her body echoed a lewd melody about the night. Each harsh thrust within her made the half-elf fall to her front in due time—saliva breaking the bridge between his fingers and her.

“I-I’m going to come, Master…!”

Even Demiurge could feel it as her walls clenched tightly upon his engorged cock to where he found himself nearly losing control. His claw was digging into the flesh upon her ass, making the woman shiver in delight at the imprint he was leaving behind upon her form.

“Then come…!” He shivered when muttered those words, saliva dribbling from his maw as he breathed hotly into the cold night air. To tease the notion, he slid out of her just a bit before pushing back within her once more. He flexed his manhood, hoping to encourage what was his all the more.

Her fingers curled, digging into the dirt beneath her as the erotic blossom in her stomach finally bloomed. The roots of this sexual paradise urged her onward to where she came heavily, marking the length of the demon she had come to know as her master—her lover—her everything.

Demiurge grunted, feeling the walls cave about him to where it was near impossible for him to move. Holding her still with his hand upon the middle of her back, he arched his own while the demon’s seed claimed his prized pet.

The release was impossible for her body to keep in, allowing for a bit more to ebb through their union and mar the precious flowers below.

His heavy breathing was calming through the night. She focused on that just to bring herself down from the ecstasy that crippled her.

Demiurge maneuvered his hand underneath her body, grabbing one of the cosmic blooms that now was soiled in their love. His twisted grin spread across his face at the thoughts racing through his superior intellect. “I believe I can use this for a special treat in the future.”

[dbopdew]

He's so cutie pie!!! Thank you so much!

Our little Dem-Dem is back, thanks to @dbopdew for commissioning him !

[dbopdew]

He's such a spicy boy

The Devil's Tome - Chapter 1 His Prized Ewe

Request idea by @kittycat-kai

A/N: A new spinoff from my other story project, The Tome of Ashurbanipal. Just making the character more my own as well as other ideas people may offer me. ♥

If the request form is down, then it is probably because I’m not accepting requests for it. ♥ Do not offer me requests in the comments. I will only accept them through the google docs linked on AO3~.

If you’d like more of something, it’s completely okay to ask for more of it.

ALL dark stories with dark content I think might be intense for people will be tagged as dark fic. Please block the tag if it's not something you can handle. ♥ Your health is more important.

Description: She met the devil at a masquerade ball and, in that one chance encounter, everything ended up so much more... so much darker. And twisted.

What started as a dream, turned into a nightmare.

Rated: 18+ [Dark Fic]

WARNINGS: Mentions of human skinning, cannibalism, and non-con. It will not get that dark and descriptive, just realize it is there.

Can also be read on AO3: Chapter 1

<;< Previous || Continue >>

Masquerades were a bit easier to withstand when being forced to go out into the public eye.

Putting on a physical and emotional mask made it impossible to ever figure out who was the one behind the veil one would wear. It became a shield for moments like these, making it all the easier for her to venture out of her house when asked to.

These types of fancy parties were usually invitation only. One hardly had to pay for anything. Could she say she enjoyed it? No. But sitting at home reading one of her favorite books for the tenth time wasn't exactly a must anymore.

“So, how are you enjoying the party?”

She looked away from the wine she was attempting to drink. The woman with curly, ash blonde hair was a friend of hers. Delneana.

“I can stomach it.” She drank a bit more, only to stifle her desire to cringe at the taste. As an adult, she was forced to be seen as one in this society—that meant drinking alcohol she couldn't stand.

Delneana stifled a laugh, hands on her hips with a shake of her head. “All you’re going to do is sit in this corner and eat cakes and pretend to drink wine?”

“Nothing can stop me.” She reached for a small pastry the moment she was reminded the snacks were within reach.

Hearing the obnoxious giggling of the wealthier girls in the distance, she looked over the rim of her glass to catch whatever or whoever it was they were gawking over. Noticing the blue, devilish mask with gold trim, she couldn't help but twist her nose to the side, acting unimpressed.

“Ah, it’s him.”

She glanced over at her friend. “Know him? Some rich snob, I’m guessing with how they’re all acting.”

Delneana shook her head. “Not that I know of, but I got to be honest—nobody knows a thing about him other than his name, Jaldabaoth.”

Looking back over at the tall man, she saw his slicked back black hair and a suit that was black with gold trim. He wasn't eating or drinking anything, merely using a cane to lean upon as he seemed to entertain the crowd around him. Canes could be used by the wealthy just to flaunt their wealth. She never saw it as him possibly having a disability at first sight alone.

From where she was standing, he just looked like every other guy she’d seen.

“Sounds like a title to cover himself more than a real name,” she confessed. “Doesn't that name mean ‘traitor’ or something? I could have sworn I read about that somewhere.”

Her friend laughed with a shrug. “I suppose you’re right. It’s always odd that everybody knows his first name and not his last. But… I would still advise caution.”

“Oh?”

Delneana moved in close to whisper something. “There are rumors circulating about him in regards to people going missing when they leave here with him.”

She gave a funny look at the man across the floor. With that mask in the way, it was hard to say whether or not he was looking at her… but it sure did feel like he was. “Then why the hell is he allowed at the ball?”

“Nobody has been able to pinpoint if he is the reason behind the disappearances. He’s also a cripple, or at least, that’s what they say. But I would still be careful.”

“So the cane isn't just for show, huh?”

“Not that I know of. Something about a bum leg.” Delneana curtsied. “I’m going to mingle a bit more before maybe heading home. Work will be bright and early tomorrow at the factory.” Her friend sighed, wishing she could ignore all that.

Turning back to the man across the room, she felt the atmosphere shift. The entire ballroom’s happy sounds turned into a dull buzzing noise as everybody walking about seemed to blur in motion.

For a split second, she thought the mask’s eyes glowed red. Her heart froze, realizing he was looking right at her.

Jaldabaoth raised his gloved hand as if to excuse himself from the crowd that had gathered about him. Much to her shock (and minor horror), she noted him heading in her direction.

She did watch as he walked. He was indeed using the cane more for leaning on then to swing it around in hopes somebody would ask about the price of it. She couldn't help but feel bad for him. He was merely disabled. How could he even be responsible for any disappearances?

Before she knew it, he was standing before her. 

“Good evening.” His hand upon his chest, the man bowed. “I couldn't help but notice you’ve been alone all through the night.”

That was embarrassing. She didn't think she’d stand out that much. “Oh, yeah. Well. Heh. I don't really do these gatherings except if I know food is involved.”

He stifled a small laugh. “I suppose that makes sense given how this kingdom chooses to run things.”

He wasn't wrong. It felt like it enjoyed making the poor suffer. That was for sure. Didn't help that it was a high part of their population.

“Where are my manners?” He bowed, hand upon his chest as he did so. She couldn't help but notice the grip upon the cane tightening a bit. “I go by Jaldabaoth here. And what is your name?”

She offered it in return, still finding it odd the name he had. “Is that…even your real name? I know that name is in history books as a traitor of the gods.”

His laugh could easily be heard, the mask didn't even bar it passage to her ears. “A clever one, aren't you?” He shook his head. “It isn't, no. I live more on the side of caution. You never know when the twisted souls are about, especially at parties such as these. I find it wise to always offer a fake name just so nobody can use it for nefarious purposes.”

That was fair. Mages and even just magic users in general always used fake names for these reasons. A name was a powerful thing. If anybody had it, you could be cursed from afar.

Standing up straight, he offered his hand. “Perhaps we could get to know one another a bit more as we dance.”

She almost choked on the biscuit she was trying to shove impatiently down her throat. “I’m umm… not a great dancer.”

“You don't have to be. Think of it as walking with me while we take a moment to merely talk.”

Accepting his offer, she found herself out onto the dance floor with him at her side. It made her nervous, heart thumping painfully in her throat. However, as the melody continued in the background, she found herself enjoying the small conversation they had.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay dancing like this?”

He was quiet, seemingly confused. “Oh, you mean my leg? I can balance just fine now and again. But not for extended periods. I will fall otherwise.”

Hearing that, she couldn't help but be a bit nervous. “Do let me know when you need to sit down or something. I don't want you to just fall over!”

“Certainly. I’ve been lasting a bit longer on my feet as I force myself to walk on my leg now and again.”

“Force?” It sounded as though he had no other alternative. She couldn't help but feel bad for him.

He nodded, doing his best to guide her across the dance floor without any issues. “I used to have a caretaker, but she went missing sometime ago. No letter was left behind. I am to assume she found a better place to work. I just wish she had told me.”

That made her feel awful for him. Even in the few moments she was getting to know him, he didn't seem at all like a bad person. If anything, his voice was so charming to listen to, she almost always wanted to keep him talking just to hear it.

“I am sure you paid her well and everything.”

“I did. I have more than enough money to pay anybody if they are ever interested.” He stifled a laugh in his throat. “I hate to say that’s the main reason I sometimes venture to such parties as these.”

The entire ballroom had become mere background noise. All that mattered to her at this moment was hearing his voice. “So you don't enjoy them that much either, huh?”

Jaldabaoth shook his head, the dance soon ending. “As I said, it can be a bit straining on my body at times.” Taking to his cane once more, he ventured towards the nearby balcony with her right behind him. He had to sit down, just to get off his feet for a moment.

“Are you okay…?”

He nodded. “I can stand and walk about just fine, but I have my limits, as I said.”

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Not really. In all of this conversation, I cannot say I know much about you, my dear. What is it you do working for the kingdom?”

She twisted her mouth to the side in thought. “I work at a booth that sells spell books to magic casters.” It was a boring job but it paid her enough to keep a roof over her head, so she’d count that blessing.

Jaldabaoth went quiet, trying to think of what to say. “I see. Are you happy working there?”

The tone of his voice would indicate he was trying to possibly open her up for a job himself. She couldn't help but be interested. “Kind of. Why? Do you have a job for me?” Her tone was a bit playful.

He laughed. “I just might. Depending if you’re interested, of course.”

Her tone was playful as she said, “Depends on what you offer me.”

Jaldabaoth could almost be heard smiling under the mask as he folded his hands upon the rounded top of the cane. “Seeing as my other servant left me without much notice, I was curious if you’d be interested in her position.”

She knew nothing about him, but nothing stopped her from nodding eagerly. “Of course! I’d love to!”

He reclined back, humming in thought. “I will pay you handsomely while offering you a room in my house. Does that sound good to you?”

She nodded once more, feeling this deal to be too good to be true.

“Marvelous.” He motioned towards the ballroom exit. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to head home right away. I use teleportation magic of my own making to come and go as I please. I’ll use my cane for the most part, but if you wouldn't mind helping me stand, that would be wonderful.”

There was a low purring sound in his words she didn't catch. All she knew was this was her moment to prove she could do anything he needed and more. Offering her hand, she assisted him in standing. Thankfully, he used his cane as an alternative to just leaning on her.

“Better,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Let’s head onward, shall we?”

The moment the two were outside, Jaldabaoth took out a spell scroll from his pocket. Activating it with a flick of his wrist, a giant portal engulfed the two of them as they were soon whisked away to an old looking mansion not far from the outskirts of the town.

“Oh, this place belongs to you?” It was a building she saw often enough whenever she left the village. Given its shabby outward appearance, she often assumed nobody lived there.

“It does indeed.” The man motioned towards the front door “Go on ahead.”

Making it to the entryway, she opened it for him before stepping inside herself.

The interior was in far better shape. She could figure why given how Jaldabaoth only mentioned having a maid or two to help him.

“Now then,” he began, grabbing the mask he had on his face. Removing it finally, the sky-blue eyes seemed to glitter in the dim lighting of the mansion. It was almost beautifully haunting in a way. “My name is Demiurge, but I must ask you to never speak of it outside of these walls.” His grip tightened upon his cane, the leather of his gloves hissing in a way as he did so. “Do we have an understanding?”

She nodded, trying to not seem hypnotized by his eyes. “Y-Yes. Of course.”

He smiled. It was a warm smile but there was something almost unsettling about it for some reason. “Excellent.” He turned, motioning for her to follow as he headed for the kitchen. “Seeing as it is your first time here, I won’t mind making the meal for the time being.”

She looked about the kitchen to take note of where everything was before hurrying to his side. “Oh, I am sure I can figure it out myself, umm.. Demiurge.” She wasn't sure if she should call him Master or Lord. Given the size of the building, she would assume one of those would work fine.

“Master Demiurge works fine,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “Do not worry so much about it, my dear. I can handle this.” He pointed back towards the door. “Just down the hall is where the dining room is. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I can handle it from here.”

Making sure he was okay, she eventually stepped out of the kitchen to at least take a look around.

The interior was gorgeous even if some of the portraits appeared to have not been dusted in awhile. Some even appeared torn. “Almost like a derelict mansion,” she muttered to herself.

Making her way to the dining room up ahead, she couldn't help but gawk at the enormous table that felt as though it would put the king’s to shame. The fireplace was lit up, giving a beautiful atmospheric light to the woodwork.

She took notice of the interesting statues of human workers with missing limbs. It seemed he had enough money to get it replaced, so she wasn't sure why he didn't. It made the once calming vibe turn to ashes, and she felt a bit unsettled.

“Ready to eat?”

Turning to Demiurge’s voice she did her best to calm whatever small anxieties were nipping at her. “Oh, yeah. You finished the meal that fast?”

He chuckled, placing a tray of food on the tablet. “We both just ate at the party, so I didn't make anything too exquisite. But it would be in poor taste for me to not offer you a meal as a sort of celebration for your new job.”

She noted the soup that looked to be that of creamy potato. It smelled divine, making her stomach growl in anticipation for a taste. “It smells wonderful.”

Demiurge motioned towards the empty chair near the table at one of the far ends. With the meals placed, he sat nearby her.

She took a hasty bite. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't like she was starving or anything, but there was a part of her that really wanted to appeal to him—for some reason. Noticing how quickly she had begun to dig into her soup, she tried her best to calm herself.

“So, umm, what is it you do for a living? I imagine something like this must be painful to upkeep without servants to hire.”

He grinned, folding his fingers together to create a place for his chin to rest. “I make and sell spell scrolls.”

The way he said such a thing made an odd chill crawl down her spine. It didn't prevent her from continuing to eat, however.

Noticing her reaction, he relaxed a bit. “I use a type of skin from a creature that’s rather easy to obtain. They populate the world effortlessly, mind you.”

She began to slow her eating, not realizing how enthralled and, perhaps, horrified of this story she was becoming. There was something lying in wait in his words. Like a monster waiting to pounce at the right moment. However, as her eyes began to grow heavy, she figured that the ball had begun to wear her down.

“Perhaps when you’re ready, you can assist me at my ranch as well.”

“Yeah, uh. Maybe.” She rubbed her eyes. “I don't know why I’m so exhausted.”

“I would recommend sleeping.”

The words were such an enchanting lullabye of a command, she found herself doing just that without any hesitation. Arms sprawled upon the table, she rested her cheek upon one arm with a content and weary sigh.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, a horrific tearing sound choking the once quiet dining hall as two claw-tipped wings spawned from the being’s back. The grin twisted, elongating upon his maw to show he was far from the human he led her to believe he was.

The metal, spiked tail finally allowed freedom from the spell, Demiurge removed the cane from his sight. He no longer needed it now that he could properly balance for once and give up the charade that he was a crippled man.

If others were to view him now, they would see him as a twisted elf with dark skin.

“Don't worry, my dear,” he hummed, petting her head. “When you awaken, you’ll be able to assist me in special ways.”

—

She had found herself awakening in literal hell—a part of the devil’s own twisted scheme that he had been orchestrating for who knew how long.

Humans, both men and women, were treated like cattle on his farm. The worst of it was the skinning…The very thing that made her anxious to know more about back at his house was made from human skin. Not dragons, or chimeras, or any mythical beast— humans .

He was a demon. An archdevil to be exact. Of course he’d use humans as a means to obtain what he so desired. The least efficient method could only be enjoyed if he was feeding on the misery of other humans.

Humans were even forced to breed with each other or monsters of various types this strong beast had managed to keep locked away on his twisted ranch. The smell of death and the wretched stain of bodily fluids was unbearable in the earlier weeks, but over the course of what she could only assume was a month, it got easier.

Much to her horror.

She felt much relief in that she was never taken to the skinning portion of the barn or the other area where the breeding happened. However, the constant desire for food was almost unbearable.

He would go a while before bothering to feed her, and knowing that he would force some of the humans to cannibalize didn't make her interest in any meat grow.

Someone has to come and save me , she thought to herself. Rocking in the straw bedding, she tried to drown out the misery that was around her. My friend or somebody… they had to have seen me leave with him. They will investigate his mansion…!

It was the only thing really keeping her sane at this point—that small glimmer of hope.

The door to the barn opened, making her shake all the more as she heard his footsteps getting louder and louder with each passing moment.

When they stopped right before her stall, she worried she would wet herself in fear.

The words beat loudly in her brain: no, no, no…!

Opening the door to her stall, the ringing of the chain upon her door and the moan of the hinges were torture on their own. The demon now stood before her. A devil in a red pinstripe suit with black hair that was slicked back to perfection. His face was elongated, making the grin all the more uncanny when she had the courage to gaze at him. Never had she seen his eyes in this form, for he always kept them squinted. It was almost impossible to make sense of them, but she could have sworn she saw the same glistening appearance as before in his human disguise.

The spiked, metal tail flicked as he grinned while feeding upon her misery. “I have another stall ready and prepared for you, pet.” He came into the enclosure, a collar and chain in hand.

Her breath hitched, making her crawl away to the nearby corner of the stall.

“Oh, come now. Is this how you’re going to behave?” Demiurge’s voice sung in such a teasing manner. Watching as she continued to shake, he got close enough to where he could grab her wrist to keep her steady. “Be still, pet. It won’t be as bad as all of that.” He inched closer to her ear, the words hot as they caressed her skin. “I have a proposition for you. Now sit and be good.”

Her body went rigid. Not of her own control but because of a passive trait the demon had where every word he spoke could easily become an order to mortals. Every being was like a puppet on a string to him.

No wonder he was able to get away with so many humans without lifting a finger. It even made all of her brash and unintelligent decisions back at the ball make a bit more sense.

The bell collar fit perfectly about her neck, causing it to chime as she was guided to her feet before being escorted out of the barn she was previously locked within.

Her heart was in the pit of her stomach as she took many steps out into the field to venture to another smaller barn that Demiurge had pieced together.

He was a demon of many talents and even carpentry seemed to be one of them.

“What do you plan to do with me…?” she nervously asked.

The moment the door swung open, she found herself greeted with a far cleaner scent. It wasn't at all what she was expecting.

He chuckled to himself, ushering her onward to an empty stall right in the middle of the barn. She expected he would just throw her in with no explanation and be done with it. But no.

“I’ve found myself in a bit of a precarious situation, my dear.” He unhooked the chain from her bell collar, coiling the length of it about his arms. “You see, whenever a child is born here, sometimes the women don't produce enough milk or there’s no milk at all to be had.”

“Y-Your point…?” She oddly felt a bit brave at that moment.

Demiurge couldn't help but stifle a laugh at her bravery. “Mm, my point is, I would like to try a little test with you, you see.” He stepped off to the side, going to a small working bench he had placed in a new, larger enclosure. Grabbing a syringe he had ready in a holder rack, he came over towards her with a wicked grin. “Hold still. This might sting a little.”

If it weren't for a needle coming right at her arm, she would have struggled as much as she wanted to. By this point, she could only huddle in the corner and shake a bit as the devil injected her with it.

Her body jerked a bit, making her whimper and stifle a moan of displeasure as the weird concoction lit a small fire in her veins. The devil took a cleaned washcloth to wipe down the area he injected.

“There we are,” he murmured, his thumb massaging the spot sweetly as well.

It was an odd feeling given everything she knew he had done to the other humans. Why was he showing any sort of care towards her?

“What… What will this do…?”

Wiping down the syringe, he put it back in the holder rack. “We’ll see in the coming days, won’t we? I have to give you many shots just to see what will transpire.”

That didn't make her nerves calm at all.

Plucking at the fingers upon his gloves, he removed the black clothing and put it off to the side. “Until then, I will still need to run a few experiments on you.”

The words were breathed in a sort of twisted ecstasy she didn't catch. But she could hear a form of hunger in his words all the same.

She was unable to even find the right words to speak. Before she knew it, Demiurge’s bare hands were upon her and removing the torn up clothing she was asked to wear. The chill in the air blanketed her before the demon’s warm grasp was upon the nook of her neck, ordering her to be still without words.

It caused a shaky sigh to part her lips, a welcoming sensation crawling over her form as she fell to needy submission. Sad to say, her twisted mind yearned for company. After having been secluded in a stall for so long without anybody to hold her, the devil’s grip was a warm and loving caress at best by this point. Even if it could feel like a wolf ready to pounce upon its prey, she ignored it blissfully.

Demiurge’s grin widened. “Enjoying the sensation, are you?”

She bit her lower lip. Should she lie or tell the truth? Demons were well known to feed off of lies or at least sense them. She worried what would happen if she didn't speak the truth…

“I umm… I…”

His hand crawled up to her cheek to cradle it in a way that nearly made her heart burst. Even for a twisted devil, she felt herself fall into his embrace.

“There now,” he purred. “You can be quite well behaved when it’s only me you’re subjected to. Isn't that right, pet?” His teeth seemed to flash at her nickname he had given her.

She was subdued, so much so he could tell she was ignoring the prick he gave her earlier. His palm was crawling down every curve of her body, every part of her she would no doubt see as imperfect… before landing upon her inner thigh.

The claws of the devil were cautious, petting her skin to watch as her body tensed and quivered against him.

“Enjoying that, are you?”

A small exhale choked from her, expressing in the moment she wanted to deny it but finding it impossible to do so.

“I’m not through with you,” Demiurge insisted with a salivating grin.

The tips of his fingers caressed the lips of her entrance, making her cry out loudly. His free hand moved to her collared neck, gripping it to keep her still and up against the wall. He didn't wish for her to try and make a break for it.

It was the last thing on her mind. The woman’s thoughts were completely blank. Never had she been touched in such a way; especially as of late. She felt starved of another’s caress no matter who it came from.

No doubt how he ‘encouraged’ the breeding on the farm.

But it was all far from over.

His thumb rubbed her clit in a gentle yet firm circle, whispering ‘good girl’ to her as he did so. His teeth nipped upon her neck, making her world become hazy for a moment. The beautifully agonizing sensation came to a slow descent as he removed his touch… only to have his index finger toy with the soft petals of her womanhood.

Throwing her head back, she almost smacked it hard against the wall. Fuck! She mentally cried. H-How is he able to make me kneel to his mercy…?!

The fires could be felt growing in the pit of her stomach, rooting out to her veins as her toes curled from just his index finger alone now moving in a circular motion.

“Good girl,” he praised once more. Those words could easily be felt brushing against her erect nipple as he did so. His tongue flicked against the sensitive knob, making her cries grow in passion.

It was there his index finger pushed forward, curling upward in a rather cautious manner as his lips encased upon her breast.

Her fingers curled into a fist—nails biting at her palm as she squirmed in place. “M-Maah…!” She could hardly express herself. Every time a word threatened to usher forth, she was stalled by the devil pressing his twisted, long tongue against her breast.

Slowly, he pulled his finger back. A trail of come attached from his finger to her pussy. His mouth could be felt grinning in triumph upon her skin as he pulled away from her breast as well. “Enjoying yourself, are you?”

It was there she saw them… his eyes.

They were glistening gems that felt as deep as the universe itself. So enthralled that it became difficult for her to turn away.

Moving his fingers into view, he rubbed his index and thumb fingers together to let her view the small amount of come that was on his grasp. “Mm, that’s a bit pitiful, don't you think, pet?”

It sounded like he was scolding her. She couldn't help but feel herself be a bit terrified at what he may attempt. Regardless, it didn't stunt her arousal.

Demiurge moved his finger to his mouth, licking it off as though it were sweet candy he couldn't be without. A low growling purr rumbled in his throat as he did so. “Sadly, the way your body responds to even my fingers, I am not certain you are quite ready for my cock just yet, pet.”

There was a pause in his words that felt as though a ‘however’ should have been added in there somewhere. Never had she been with another person in a sexual sense. The very thought she might have to accept a demon’s cock was a bit horrifying to her if he were to ever try such a thing.

“But, let’s try a few more things first…” His words trailed off, leaving a sense of mystery in the air.

The tip of his claw traced down her stomach towards her legs once more. Using just one finger for now, he urged it back inside of her. The woman’s body tensed as she savored (in silence) the sensation that crawled through her like a warm spring that her entire form needed.

The entire digit pushed inward, moving slowly in a circular motion to feel with ease as her walls clenched upon it. “G-Gods be damned… I’m going insane…!” She couldn't control herself. The words just came forth, ignoring her denial.

The devil’s twisted grin widened upon his maw. Her wet walls clenched upon his prying finger, making him stifle a moan as well. He was doing his own best to control himself—hoping to not throw her to the hay bed below to have his way with her.

He had to take it slowly. At least… for her. She was the only ‘ewe’ he’d be patient for.

“Just a bit more,” he whispered hotly, using his other free hand to grab at her breast to squeeze it to entice her.

She bent into his touch, craving more of it. Her flesh creeping through the divide of his fingers made her breath visible upon the cold air. The heat within her now was coming to a boiling point, the fire in her belly a near inferno.

His finger was moving in circles, digging deeply as he enticed her onward to where she felt she couldn't hold back any longer.

“I-I’m going to come…!”

Demiurge’s tongue licked across his elongated face, entranced by that thought. “Then what is stopping you, pet?” His index finger was soon joined by the middle one, moving the two slowly in a come hither motion.

That was it. That was all it took. Her body started to quake, walls crashing down around his fingers to where her orgasm could easily be felt as well as heard. Her cries echoed about the barn.

Slowly he removed his finger, looking at the come upon it this time. “Better,” he praised, rolling his tongue across it to clean his hand of the mess. “Mm, now then…” 

The devil inched closer, his fingers digging into her collar to pull her nearer to him. The bell chimed eagerly upon the urged motion. She was worried but also entranced by what he may do let alone say to her.

“You are to be mine, pet.” He spoke those words like a warning. “If I ever catch you sleeping with the other ‘sheep’, I will not be kind.” Once more, his eyes opened. “A demon’s love can be the most honest and twisted kind there is. See me as evil all you wish to…” His words quieted as he trailed his finger up to her jawline to grab onto her chin. “..But you are mine . My prized ewe, that only I will be allowed to breed with.”

The crushing realization that he still saw her as a pet felt splashed upon her like water during the winter’s biting night. “Wha… What do you plan to do with me?”

Demiurge gently urged her back towards the stall’s wall. “I plan on keeping you here where I will do as I so wish with you. Consider me gracious, pet. I don’t have the courage in my dead heart to skin you as I do the others.”

She wasn't even sure if she should praise that. Her lower lip quivered in the aftermath of her time with him.

“I will give you better food, my dear,” he purred in a twisted sort of loving manner. “In fact, you haven't eaten in a bit, have you?”

She shook her head. Compared to the other people, Demiurge did give her a bit more to eat than the others. It made her anxious given how often the other humans would give her angry looks. All because the devil seemed to favor her.

“Very well.” He took to his feet, brushing the straw and everything off of his knees. “I will tend to such a request. I can’t very well have my prized dairy ewe go hungry now, can I?”

She shivered at the way he spoke such a thing. Remaining curled up near the back of the stall, she watched as he took his leave of the barn he crafted for her alone.

Silence. 

It was deafening. A part of her almost wished she could be back with the others. Hearing people bemoan, scream, and beg for mercy was oddly more melodic than the sound of silence. All that kept her company now was the ever pounding imprint of his touch upon her body.