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mrskokushibo · 5 months ago

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Lead us not into Temptation

Kokushibo x nun!reader

Warnings: Sex, Smut, MDNI, NSFW, strictly 18+

Summary: A young nun struggles with her carnal desires, and in the midst of that, she gets corrupted by a hot demon.

Masterlist

…And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and, the power, and the glory, forever. Amen. (Matthew 6:11-13; King James Version (KJV) of the Bible).

This was the fifth consecutive night that you were kneeling alone at night in the convent’s empty chapel, saying the Lord’s Prayer repeatedly. Your thoughts were, to say the least, impure, and this was the penance that the friendly old priest administered you in the daily confession. With autumn at the threshold and the harvest over and done with, there was much less physical work for the nuns. Autumn and winter were the time for prayer and withdrawal. A time to give the tired physical body rest after the intense labour of spring and summer. The convent’s gardens and orchard were breaming with fruit and vegetables, the bee hives full of honey, and the poultry barns overrun with chickens, geese, and ducks. Everything was now harvested, prepared, and stored for winter. Enough food to provide for both the convent’s needs as well as to help the impoverished families in the nearby settlement.

But your body was as fertile and ripe as the gardens in summer, and rest was not what it seemed to crave… You often wondered what it would be like to belong to a man. Your family could not afford the dowry, and there were only two choices for you: the brothel or the convent. When the latter was chosen, you knew you would never experience a man’s love. The former option, however, would have only given you a corrupted and twisted mockery of such love.

When you first stepped over the worn-out stone threshold of the large, grey medieval building, you felt apprehensive, to say the least. One look at the large crucifix, the only thing adorning the spacious vestibule, and the worry of a lonely and cold life were gripping you as tight as a vice. With time, you learned how wrong you were about life here. The nuns were warm and kind and since this was not one of the strictest orders, you were allowed to venture out to the village bringing food and medical aid to the inhabitants, who in turn treated you all as if you were angels. This was not a bad life. You enjoyed the gardens, and your favourite chore was tending to the animals.

At last, you finished your fiftieth Lord’s Prayer and slowly stood up, straightened your black nun’s habit, and readied yourself to walk back to your cell. The shortest way was to walk through the glorious sacred garden in the courtyard adjacent to the chapel. The cells were situated in the cloister, the open gallery walk that wrapped around the courtyard. The garden was magnificent in autumn, with leaves turning all shades of fire and sun.

As you stepped on the gravel pathway, you stopped in your tracks. There, in the corner near the large acacia, was a tall figure, judging by the broad shoulders, a male. You realised this could have not been any of the priests as they did not stay at the convent at night, but also, none of them was this tall… Apprehensive at first, you cautiously decided to approach him, your natural curiosity was always stronger than fear. As you were getting close, suddenly three pairs of eyes stared at you. They were red with golden pupils. Was this a dream? Who was this?

‘Who are you…?’ You spoke with a slightly hitched voice, but before you managed to finish your sentence, he was gone.

You stood for a while as petrified but then hurried to your cell. It was a sparse room, big enough for a simple bed, a closet for your habits, and any other garments you needed. There was also a desk, a chair, and several candlelights, which you requested, especially since you were an avid reader and writer, and the convent’s library had a wealth of approved literature.

After finishing your bedtime routine and saying your prayers, you crawled into bed, the last thought occupying your mind being the strange sight you encountered in the garden.

Without the candles being lit, your room was pitch black. You could barely make out the contours of your furniture. Suddenly, you heard a quiet rustle next to the foot of your bed…and then six burning eyes appeared out of the dark. A large hand started caressing your thigh and moving up toward your groin, a sudden light kiss on your lips, and a hand stroking your cheek and neck. You almost flew up, but the same strong, large hand pinned you down in place.

‘Shhhh, someone will hear you.’

A deep, masculine voice came from the direction of the eyes. You were speechless, this was surely a dream and well…you were curious as to what would happen next… A hand was now massaging you between your legs, not moving in under the cloth of your undergarment yet, but this was enough for your juices to slowly overflow. You moaned quietly, and this was encouragement enough for the male to slide his fingers under the cloth. As he was spreading your slick-covered folds, your pleasure was slowly taking over you. He was rubbing you up and down between your labia, not even yet touching your clitoris, a long finger slowly tracing circles around your opening and another prying its way inside you…

‘Father, forgive me for I have sinned.’

You touched yourself so many times before, but this was so entirely different. The anticipation of where his touch was to land next was the difference between a deliberate move of your own fingers. This was indescribable. You were trying not to moan too loud, but staying quiet was not an easy feat. When his touch finally reached your erect little bud, you were close to bursting. It did not take him long to push you to your orgasm and as you climaxed, you released your juices all over his hand. The next moment, you woke up, still riding out your orgasm. You were completely soaked between your legs from all the cum you squirted out. Sunlight was peering into the room through the narrow window, it was most obviously morning. You were in bliss, but also shaking your head at the dream that left you in this state. Because… this surely must have been a dream… This would be an interesting confession…

*****

The old, kind priest sighed as you uttered the routine phrase.

‘Is it the same… as usual, dear child?’

‘Yes, father, but this time it felt like someone … did things to me. I was not touching myself at all. Well, it was a dream, actually. But it evoked an indecent response from me… The thing that did trouble me, was that even though that someone was human, at the same time, he did not seem to be. He had six eyes and had a demonic aura about him.’

The priest sighed again and shook his head.

‘Look, dear child, what you are experiencing is normal for someone young. Believe me, we all had such thoughts in our youth. Just try and work on changing the focus of them. As for the form of your assailant, well, do not dwell on that too much. I am sure it is not possession or anything unholy like that. The human brain is blessed with the capacity to imagine, so do not dwell.’

He paused and smiled a little to himself.

‘You know, you are a good kid, the villagers adore you for your kindness and help. I am sure the Lord will overlook your recent troubles with yourself.’

With that, he drew the sign of the cross in the air in front of him and said the prayer of absolution:

‘(…) I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.’

The week that followed was a blur. For every day that went, your focus on daily chores and routines was diminishing as the wet dreams were increasing in length and intensity. Your thoughts were preoccupied with…him. The six eyes were etched in your mind like an unholy vision. Every night spent in the chapel on your penance prayers was wearing you out and making you more and more susceptible to daydreaming of being ravaged by the male. You were imagining what he looked like, what his manhood would feel inside you…Every time you were dismissing these thoughts in a futile attempt to regain some sanity, they were hitting you twice as hard as soon as you lost your slightest focus. It was all a dream you were telling yourself…

It was a particularly dark night when you ventured back into the empty chapel after the Sunday evening mass. A part of the penance was to tidy up and blow out the candles, leaving you with only a couple lit at the altar near the main nave, where you usually knelt to say your prayers. At this point, you started to feel like maybe an exorcist would be your best option.

Your obsession with carnal pleasure and that demon or whoever that was that invaded your thoughts was becoming unbearable. No matter how many wet dreams, how much you touched yourself, and how much you repented and tried to push these thoughts away, your senses seemed to not even come close to being satiated. You knelt in resignation, the burning sensation between your thighs as intense as ever, wetness pooling between your legs at the only thought that was occupying your mind.

‘… and lead us not into temptation…’

but the temptation was only getting stronger. At that moment, you sensed a presence behind you. The already dark, sombre space suddenly grew darker. You turned around only to see the six ferocious eyes staring down at you. But this time, you finally got a chance to see their owner. You gasped at the sight. The demonic eyes and strange red marks on his face and neck aside, he had a fully human form. A tall, solid-built male with a huge mane of thick red-black hair. He wore an outfit whose origin you did not recognise, but it did do his figure justice. Apparently, he was a warrior of some kind as there was a foreign-looking sword at his side.

‘Greetings, holy woman’ his polite words were laced with scorn.

‘Greetings’ you managed to stammer in reply.

He was foreign-looking. How could he speak your language? He could apparently read your thoughts as he indulged your curiosity:

‘I am an ancient demon, and human language is a mere trifle to me.’

A demon, so your fears were confirmed… How did this happen? Did you somehow manage to summon him?

‘You did not summon me, you foolish girl. I roam this earth, and when I stumble upon something that appeals to me, I merely claim it as mine.’

His self-indulgent speech was making you nervous but also weak at the knees from anticipation.

‘The dreams when I touched you were not dreams at all, I was there with you, and I already savoured your sweet juices. I could have ravaged you many times over, but you humans are a special kind. Playing hard-to-get and pretending to be pious and oh so holy. But deep inside of you all dwells a beast so ferocious that it makes us demons seem like angels at times. But now, it is time you give in to me and to the beast inside you. I will fuck you right here, for your Lord to see. And he will watch while you begin to serve a new Master.’

His deep, melodic voice was sending shivers down your spine. It resounded perfectly in the solemn space of the empty chapel. His lewd words gave this medieval temple more justice than any sermon you ever heard…

You stood up in the last and futile act of defiance, but in that instant, you were pushed by the large male toward the nearest wall. His large frame dominated you and pressed you into the hard stone of the wall behind you, making you almost breathless.

‘Look at you, so beautiful and innocent. A flower ready for picking’ he was talking in a hushed, slow tone.

‘I bet you will not be as innocent once I show you what real pleasure feels like.’

His handsome face was now adorned by a smile, a vicious one at that, as the thought of corrupting this holy servant of a God so many worshipped, was making him crazy with lust. It was his work as a demon, to kill, enslave, turn people into demons, and corrupt women into the deepest abyss of carnal yearning. He enjoyed this, the power of it, as centuries went by and his strength grew, so did his desire for more conquers.

His hands were slowly starting to take possession of your body, gently, but deliberately caressing your face, neck, bottom, and breasts. He lowered his head and kissed your lips with the lightness of a falling rose petal. He kept on kissing like this down your neck and then back up to your lips again. This time, the kiss claimed more of your lips, and his tongue slowly snaked its way into your mouth.

Your mouth welcomed him greedily, and soon you were intertwined in a passionate kiss. He held your head in his large hands while kissing you, and when he let go, he helped you remove your clothes and went down on his knees before you. He cupped one of your breasts with one large hand and started spreading your swollen, slick-covered folds with the long, calloused fingers of the other. You were now so familiar with this from all the wet dreams that were not dreams at all. The coil in your belly was tightening slowly, and you were starting to edge when he moved to rubbing circles around and on your blood-filled clitoris.

He then leaned into your sex, blowing soft kisses on the outside of your pussy. His tongue started darting over your clit, flicking it lightly, eliciting even more moans from you. The warmth in your belly was turning into burning heat. You felt like soon you would be losing all control over yourself but before that happened, there was something you wanted to know. Without asking him directly about his identity you posed a more indirect question.

‘Don’t you want to know my name?’ You moaned.

‘I already do, y/n. And my name is Kokushibo. Remember it well because after tonight, it will be the only name you will need to repeat in your prayers.’

With that, he stood up again, and you automatically wrapped your legs around his strong hips. He was now carrying you in the direction of the altar, and soon enough, you were shamelessly splayed on top of it. Not lifting his burning gaze from your naked form, he started removing his own clothes, leaving you to admire what was slowly being unveiled to your vision.

If it wasn’t for the scars that covered his entire torso and arms, he might just as well have been a statue that came to life. His body was as if carved of stone, with skin deliciously stretched over the defined muscles. As he removed the last clothes covering his body, a black, skirt-like garment tied with ridiculously long belts, you could now admire his manhood in its full glory. It was already erect, huge, straight, and veiny with a bright red tip.

At this point, there was not a clear thought in your head, your lust fogging up whatever reason and decency that was left. All you wanted was him inside you. The tingling in your belly was increasing as if a swarm of butterflies was attempting to find a way out of your insides. Your craving was that of a beast, your inner muscles spasming and clenching on air, slick pooling out of your cunt, all in expectation of him finally granting you the fullness you so much lusted for.

And you did not have to wait very long because as if in response to your body’s call, he grabbed you by the hips and slid you closer to his rough ones. His cock was now perfectly aligned with your entrance and he slowly started pushing into your clenching walls. The sensation of being filled up like this was making you delirious with pleasure. Every inch he gained was adding more and more to your already peaking arousal. At last, he bottomed out, but before starting to move, he stretched out his arm and grabbed your chin with his large hand, tilting your head so that you could look at the crucifix above the altar. His lips were contorted in a frown, he was baring his fangs.

‘He is looking at you. And now, I want you to tell him who is your new Master. Say it.’

With that, he started slowly thrusting into you. You were moaning, but his grip on your chin did not lessen.

‘Say it!’

‘Lord Kokushibo is my new Master, my only Lord.’

You moaned out, your breath getting heavy. Satisfied, he let go and increased the force and pace of his thrusts. It was as if time had stopped, and there was only now you and him, in this sacred space, performing this unholy sacrament. Your juices mixed, your bodies intertwined. Every spot inside you was stimulated. You could feel the veiny texture of his dick rubbing back and forth on your plush and swollen walls. If this was a sin, then you for sure belonged in hell. Because this was something you no longer could live without. And when your body finally reached the limits of what it could take before being plunged over the edge and into the eruption of your orgasm, you knew that this demon would be your bane. You were indeed possessed.

As you were riding out your climax, he kept on pumping into you with unchanged force. It was now his turn to grant himself a release. He pulled you closer to him, changing the angle slightly so that his rough hips were even closer to you. The sound of flesh smacking flesh, the wet squelching of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy, and your lewd moans echoed through the sacred building. His eyes were closed and his head thrown back, a glorious fallen angel with a halo of black hair with red tips that in the dim light of candles made it look as if he was emerging out of the fires of hell. His thrusts were not losing any of their strength or speed as you started to feel another orgasm approaching.

‘Kokushibo, my Lord, I am…. going… to come again’ you managed to moan out in your hazy state.

He opened his eyes and looked straight at you with a dark, lust-filled gaze.

‘Then I want you to say my name when you do and tell your old God who your new one is.’

He said with a vicious smirk while increasing the pace and strength of his actions. Every thrust was sending you closer to your climax, and when it was time for you to come again, you moaned out loudly

‘My Lord Kokushibo… you are… the only God… for me now’

And with that, you climaxed, and your consciousness started to blur.

He leaned over you now, small droplets of sweat running down his chest, making his skin glisten in the dull, warm light. His breath was very heavy, and his thrusts were getting sloppy. ‘I am close now’ he hissed through gritted teeth ‘I will fill you up with my demon seed, and from now on, you will forever be parched for it.’ With a final powerful thrust, he climaxed and emptied himself inside you, riding out his high with a few slower thrusts at the end. You were so overfilled, that his semen was pouring out of you around his cock and onto the altar. This was sacrilege, a sin beyond repentance. Yet, you knew, that this was just the beginning of your journey to hell and that you would not allow anyone to exorcise this demon out of your life.

You were still lying flat on top of the altar, breathless and blissed out, looking up at the crucifix and then at your demon lover’s face, when he finally pulled out, resulting in the remaining semen flowing out of you shamelessly onto the sacred stone. He smiled at the sight and lifted you up toward his chest, landing one last deep, hard kiss on your lips. He moved the hair out of your face and caressed your back, you reciprocating the action, barely able to reach around his large torso.

‘Will you be back?’ You asked in a weak voice.

‘If you pray to me, I will.’

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tagging my friends in this re-release: @doumadono @muzansfangs @sunsblaze @warringwarrioridiot @horror4themasses @cursetopia2 @misslauravillanueva @sunandflame

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pondering-gales-left-orb · 2 months ago

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Woe, jar of bees (and wasps) be upon ye

#dragon age inquisition #DAI #DAI sera #im sure someone has made this joke before but i had too with how my i use the jar of bees djnf #i threw one at a fear demon DO YOU FEEL YOUR FEAR NOW MR. FEAR DEMON?#i hope you are allergic bitch RAAAAHHHH

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shovson · 2 months ago

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#jenson button #b sides #footage u find like the beginning of a horror movie ass vibe #'on [redacted date] mr button was found dead outside of some random cabin thats been haunted by da demons here is da movey we found'

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paprikaries · 4 months ago

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"Let's play together!" WIP sketch Fanart: King Dice (show-version) / Alastor the Radio Demon (pilot-version) (Cuphead the game/the Cuphead show from mdhr studio/Netflix & Hazbin Hotel from Spindlehorse studio/Vivziepop/Amazon)

I think that Alastor could be a fan of Dice.

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this-too-shall-bleed · 5 months ago

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mr. scratch but it’s like the scene where john is staring up at the ceiling in terror as arthur begins an episode of absolutely traumatic sleep paralysis (youknow the one)

just the inking version is kinda cool (I was hesitant as hell to put down paint because this took like 4 hours) originally the orientation was flipped like this but I think it kind of makes more sense visually in the first image? I don’t know ceiling creature perspective is wacky upside down you go

thank you @ellamenop for the idea!

#ah the irony of losing sleep over drawing scratch #mr scratch is in the walls and the ceiling and under the floorboards #love me a dream demon #whats up with demons and stones in this podcast by the way #if I had a nickle every ti #malevolent #malevolent fanart #ink drawings #fountain pen #traditional art #mr. scratch malevolent #scratch malevolent #malevolent spoilers #malevolent season 4

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thrandilf · 7 months ago

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Lego Monkie Kid + Tweets!

Bonus Addition: LMK + The Onion!

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk meme #lmk mk #lmk sun wukong #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #lmk text post #lmk red son #lmk lady bone demon #lmk princess iron fan #mr tang #lmk tang #pigsy #azure lion #this took awhile whew enjoy!!! i should have another big post comin soonish

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tea-cat-arts · 5 months ago

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Ranking mxtx couples by whether or not I think they'd be good parents

(I'm 90% sure I'm forgetting someone)

Yep, next question (S)-

Wangxian: tried and tested good dads. I wish them luck with the whole “trying to get wwx pregnant” thing

They have some shit to work through, but after that I think they'd be fine (A)-

Ling Wen/ Bai Jin: if we're just going off the original publication, I would put them in a much lower tier, but since the revised edition added that thing about them raising orphans together and said orphans turning out alright before unfortunate circumstances, I'm putting them up here. I think they'll be alright once they work through the miscommunication

Xiao Xingchen/ Song Lan: They obviously have a lot of trauma they're working through, but I'd like to think they and A-Qing will be a loving family in the long run

One of them would be a good parent, the other wouldn't be a bad parent (B)-

Jiang Yanli/ Jin Zixuan: there's no canon reason for me putting them this low. Jin Zixuan just gives off a mediocre parent vibe to me (and we all know Jiang Yanli is the best)

Yushipei: Yushi Huang has good mom energy, and Pei Ming has been shown to be a not terrible mentor. I'd want the misogyny fully beaten out of him with a mace before I'd think he should have kids of his own though

Lang Qianqiu/ Little Guy: at the very least, they're making sure Guzi is fed, clothed, washed, vaccinated, and has access to education. Neither of them know what they're doing, but I think Little Guy is good at faking it. I wish them luck in their upcoming custody battle

You know what, surprise me/ I'll hear you out (C)-

Bingqiu: My first instinct is “no, do not bring kids into this,” but then I remembered tharnShen Qingqiu has a surprisingly decent track record? Like, Ning Yingying and Ming Fan both turned out a lot more health than they did in the original novel, and though I wouldn't call him in a good place, Binghe is doing a lot better than Bingge. The wild card for me here is Luo Binghe because I have no idea how he'd be with kids

Quanyin: Yin Yu had a decent track record until he was pushed into snapping. I think rn, he needs a couple centuries of being a babygirl before he's ready to parent again. No idea how Quan Yizhen would do though

Born to “dual income, no kids, rich uncles/aunts” (D)-

Fengqing: Feng Xin is canonically a bad dad. I know he's working on it, but it is what it is. Mu Qing has been shown to be decent with kids, but I think he’d have a melt down if he had to deal with the mess constantly.

Hualian: I mean, Xie Lian has raised three kids at this point and one of them became a god, another became state preceptor and then sorta complicit in a genocide, and one became god AND committed genocide + he babysat a ghost king for months and didn't even realize that's what he was because it was a miracle if he remembered to feed him… so, a mixed bag. Hua Cheng may be schrodinger’s child hater, but I'm intrigued by the idea of him raising kids just because I want to know how his own childhood would influence his parenting abilities. They should probably just stick to babysitting for now though

Mingling: Liu Mingyan is too busy writing gay porn to be dealing with kids, and I just can't imagine Sha Hualing as a mom

Please don't bring a kid into this mess (F)-

Beefleaf: Do I need to explain this one?

Mobeishang: Shang Qinghua should not be put in any position where he has to teach someone about consent (Binghe’s early attempts at flirting being a prime example of why that's a bad idea). I also think Mobei Jun is still working on the whole “why hitting people is not cool” thing.

QiJiu: I think the original timeline is a prime example of how they're just not in a place to be raising kids

Jun Wu/ Mei Nianqing: Xie Lian would like a refund on his adopted father figures. They had one kid and he only made it to age 20 because he was cursed to not die

#heaven official's blessing #tgcf #mdzs #grand master of demonic cultivation #svsss #scum villian self saving system #I'm not tagging every couple because idk all their ship names #hualian #bingqiu #wangxian #beefleaf #qijiu #fengqing #quanyin #yushipei #for anyone wondering about the “schrodinger’s child hater” comment:#HC is shown to be on good terms/likes Banyue and Guzi but in the revised edition theres a scene where HC says he doesn't like kids #but also in that scene he's brainwashed and thinks he's a rich 16 y/o #mentally preparing myself for the Feng Xin stans to explain why mr “behave xyz way or I wont acknowledge you as a person” is a good dad #Feng Xin is less of a himbo and more of a tall/buff Chilchuck and I'd like if the fandom at large acknowledged that #idk what ship I forgot to include but I know its not a Jaing Cheng ship #edit: the Binghe defenders are raising valid points but he's still a wildcard to me because of his trust and abandonment issues #I could see bingqiu being good parents like... 5-10 years after the series end point

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dunmeshistash · 5 days ago

Note

I've been having a bunch of ideas kinda float around my mind like little screensavers that I didn't feel like putting on paper, but one of these ideas just so happened to hit a corner, and it gave me an idea for what might perhaps be a bit of a silly (and oddly specific) question, but one I was very interested in asking nonetheless. Especially after reading your long post on the Demon's perspective of Laios' backstory. I really hope you don't mind.

While my memory's a tad blurry on how the scene played out in detail, I still find Laios' confrontation with the demon to be one of my favorite scenes. Definitely top 5. It's the one where Laios secretly orders Izutsumi to execute him at the slightest hint of suspicion. That one. I think that scene is among my favorites because it's both a perfect demonstration of Laios' remarkable cleverness hidden underneath all that lack of social skills, but it's also the perfect demonstration of how utterly terrifying the demon is.

At first I was under the assumption that Laios had it all under control, but the Demon's frighteningly gentle with how he twists Laios' very thoughts in a way that frames him as some sort of misanthropist, and the Winged Lion's words seemingly foil whatever plan Laios may have had. It made me think that Laios had failed, and Izutsumi's orders to lob his head off may have been a fail safe because he didn't know if he could successfully thwart the Demon's plans.

However, after finishing the story, extras, etc; I started thinking that perhaps failing was all part of Laios' plan, too. At least partially. Perhaps he realised that the only way to outsmart and ultimately best the Demon, was to let the Demon win. Perhaps he concluded that the only way for him to stand a chance against the Demon was to lose, to be at the Demon's mercy, to have his words utterly twisted; because he couldn't just make the demon "think" he had won. The only way for the Demon, the embodiment of hunger, to think he had won, was for him to actually win.

Maybe he ordered Izutsumi to… how do you put it… "artificially shorten his lifespan" because he knew the Demon would use his love for monsters against him, and would manipulate him into wishing to become the Ultimate Strongest Monster. His recent addendum (that the Ultimate Strongest Monster can eat desires) seems to support this theory, if I remember correctly. However, I can't remember for certain. Maybe his plan was to trap the Demon in his body and kill it that way? I genuinely can't remember.

So, I was wondering if you'd be interested in answering this oddly specific and mildly stupid question: How much of Laios' interaction with the Demon was planned, and how much was him fucking around and finding out? I'd love to know your thoughts on this!

PS: Laios rocks the swag he dons as king. Would happily serve under him. PPS: I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week, Mr. Morbius! Thank you for this awesome blog. You're cool.

Hello!!!!! Yeah!!!!!! The question Kabru himself would rather not know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Same as Kabru I decided not to think too hard about but Kui definitely gave us hints that this could be the case, I don't think Laios "planned" to fail from the start, he strikes me as a very optimistic guy (as you can see with how he first thought the confrontation with Thistle could go and how he STILL tried to talk to him instead of fighting) but I think he did "prepare" somewhat for the worst case scenario, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst?

Like I don't think this part of his plan was a misdirection I think he really hoped it could be this simple? So this was plan A (although he realizes this is too optimistic I think he hopes it will work)

This part tho I'm pretty sure was partly a misdirection for his teammates, since he asks them to help him get his mind back only to tell Izutsumi to kill him at the smallest hint he lost his mind, so I think this was plan B as in "If I become the lord of the dungeon kill me so there's no more dungeon lord" which was the original canary plan

Which again is kinda confirmed by this thought bubble

I think this was plan C

He knew he no longer wished for a country where humans and monsters could coexist (because of what he saw) so I guess he had *some* idea that becoming a monster was his other wish and added that as a fail safe if plan A and B failed? I don't think he could have guessed the Demon would use his body but maybe he thought he could use the nature of the demon against him (granting his desire to become a monster even tho the monster can eat him)

As Marcille and Kabru realize tho, that might all be a coincidence and he really thought plan A or B would work lmao. WHO KNOWS Laios' mind is a mystery

I'd recommend rereading chapter 88 if you want to go thru Laios' whole plan and how the demon manipulated him, it's a great chapter (87 too with the demon origin story)

#dungeon meshi spoilers #laios touden #Laios #PS: Thanks!#PPS: WHY MR MORBIUS AGAIN LMAO #winged lion #demon #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi thoughts #speculation #dunmeshi

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matrixbearer2024 · 1 month ago

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Cruel

[Mr Bill Pines AU: Bill Cipher-Pines x Clifford(Stanford Reincarnation)]

Bill misses his husband and he can’t decide at the moment if this was Karma or just another mistake he’d walked into. Fate could be very kind, but it could also be a very cruel thing.

Inspired by a comic from @honeqq and I decided why not write something related to it! I need to write more stuff for them PLEASE-

Bill had to steel himself once more at the familiar chime summoning him again. He already knew who it was and had a few theories about the reason behind it. The real problem was that he didn’t know if he could take it anymore; each moment felt like a deep cut, with wounds left to fester as his heart battled his mind, tearing apart any semblance of sanity.

He had to mentally prepare himself for every encounter with the lookalike of his deceased husband, the imitation of a man to whom he had once given everything. Just being there was painful—the same voice, the same face, the similar mutation…

But he wasn’t the same man.

Taking a deep breath, Bill stepped in front of the impatient artist, who regarded him with mild annoyance. The artist was blissfully unaware of the constant struggle the god faced just to maintain a decent appearance. For some reason, Bill didn’t dare to explain this to him; it made it easier… sort of.

“Oh, finally. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

Bill mused that someone must be pulling a sadistic prank, repeatedly putting him in this situation where every waking moment threatened to unleash the flood of emotions and grief once more. This man wasn’t the genius he had once loved. This guy wasn’t Sixer, no matter how similar they looked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d call you ‘lucky’ number seven, but you’ve just been annoying. Of all the cosmic beings to seek guidance from, you’d think you’d pick one that hasn’t faded into obscurity.”

“You were the muse for this journal’s author, so I thought you’d be able to help me in some way, somehow. I think.”

At the mention of the journal, Bill wanted to shrivel up and die. It was the only one he hadn’t had a hand in writing. The others he had co-authored with his husband, but this one… this one had eluded him for so long, only to be found by… this guy.

He wanted to bash his skull in and scream.

Stanford was gone; that pill had been hard enough to swallow a thousand years ago. Fate just had to rub salt into that open wound. This whole situation was cruel.

“What’s the problem this time?”

“I can’t decide what I want to paint.”

The empty canvas the other man gestured to seemed to beckon him, the stark white void drawing him in and holding him in a vice grip. The triangle stared blankly at the vacant space; an idea flickered to life in his mind, but he hesitated to indulge it. What if he did? It would only unleash another wave of grief, a haunting reminder of what once was and what he had lost to the relentless claws of time and the cold hands of death.

Bill already knew this was going to be idiotic. He felt it in his bones—he was about to make yet another stupidly ridiculous choice. Yet, before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. Regret settled in immediately after he spoke.

“How about this? What if you painted someone for me? A portrait.”

The reincarnation regarded him with curiosity and interest, and Bill felt an overwhelming urge to gouge out his lone eye at the sight. Don’t look at him like that. Don’t give him the same expression that once held so much love and adoration, the kind that had nearly drowned him. Don’t remind him of those memories. Don’t drive the knife in deeper.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

That was the amusement that haunted him: the ghost of a man he had once loved to his own detriment. Someone whose smile caused the edges of his eyes to crinkle with unbridled joy, someone whose gaze never wavered in love and adoration. It was a ticking time bomb to have chosen and loved a mortal; inevitable goodbyes lurked around every corner of his finite life. There was no telling how much time they had left together, yet Bill still felt like Stanford was taken from him far too soon.

What he would have given for just a little more time—one last kiss, one final “I love you.”

He was a god, yet he would have surrendered absolutely everything for just another moment with the man he once called a husband. His equal. His muse.

Bill had to turn away from the other man, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He quickly blinked them back; after a thousand years, the grief was still overwhelming. It felt like just yesterday he had been in the arms of his lover, and now that love and comfort were nowhere to be found. The ache in his heart throbbed and pounded, emotions turning him soft. What a useless god he’d become. What was once a pleasant feeling had morphed into crippling sorrow.

“If you don’t mind me asking, though… who is it that you want me to paint?”

That was a loaded question, burdened by the lament and grief of a thousand years—a love lost to the hands of time and the embrace of death. The one plane of existence where Bill couldn’t follow. Not as he was. Not when he didn’t have the ability to die. The sickness of an immortal, truly.

“Someone important to me. My muse.”

“You have a muse? Wow. They must be someone incredible.”

Bill could only let out an empty laugh. Stanford was incredible—more than he could ever dare to articulate. Words simply wouldn’t do the man justice; to have a god fall to his knees out of love was an immeasurable feat. The triangle always believed his lover was a force to be reckoned with, a powerhouse and then some. Yet, the relentless sands of time eventually wore him down. Even Stanford's brilliant mind, which had endured so much, couldn’t escape the inevitable; the grim reaper came to collect his dues.

No mortal was spared from that fate.

“Yeah. He was .”

The pain that bled through the triangle’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by the artist, despite his attempts to conceal it. However, the artist chose not to mention it, believing it was best not to pry. After all, it wasn’t his place to interfere; why would he?

Bill cleared his throat and floated up to get a better look at the empty canvas. Every instruction was clear and concise, every requested stroke of the brush executed with intention and purpose. The triangle’s close guidance and precise descriptions of each detail left no room for error; there were simply no mistakes.

As the painting began to take shape, colors and pigments blended seamlessly, crafting an image clearer than crystal. Gradually, the likeness of a man emerged—one with silver hair and a gentle gaze, complemented by a smile that reached his eyes, eyes that radiated immense love and adoration. It was evident that the painting captured an intensely intimate moment; such an expression was not meant for just anyone. Only someone so deeply loved and cherished could inspire a face like that. Only someone who felt eternally young could carry the weight of age with the wonder and joy of a child. The painting became a living juxtaposition.

The artist dropped his paintbrush in surprise; the painting looked so… alive. Under Bill’s guidance, this project had transformed into one of his best works. He couldn't help but wonder if its resemblance to a self-portrait was purely coincidental—an unnerving mirror he had created hour after hour, stroke after stroke, with immense specificity from the triangle beside him. However, the longing gaze from Bill toward the smiling subject made things clear. That action alone spoke more truth than any words they had ever exchanged. Yet, despite the painstaking effort poured into this piece, his eyes were inevitably drawn back to the final product.

It felt… familiar somehow, as if he knew this man, perhaps having met him somewhere before, despite the artist's certainty that he never had.

What was this sense of déjà vu?

The painting was beautifully crafted, distinctly unreplicable, particularly within the eyes of this man, which overflowed with mirth and fondness that clearly belonged to a lover. The expression he wore embodied the true essence of being loved, the purest depiction of happiness.

How had Bill even known about this? Not to mention in such explicit detail…

“Bill—”

“You have your painting, I need some time to think.”

The triangle’s voice trembled with overwhelming emotion, cracking under the weight of his grief. He couldn’t bear to look at the painting any longer. He turned away, unable to face either the finished work or the living, breathing human who looked so painfully similar to the man immortalised in the portrait. Every glance at the painting drove the knife in his chest deeper.

He had been right—this was a stupid idea.

“Just summon me again when you need me,”

Bill muttered, his voice barely holding together. And with that, the god vanished before the artist could even respond.

Back in his original resting place, hot tears spilled from his lone eye as the grief he’d kept buried for so long finally poured out. The triangle broke down into uncontrollable sobs, curling up against a nearby wall, shivering as anguish consumed him. An agonised scream tore from his chest, shaking the very room. It was a miracle he had managed to stay composed for as long as he had.

Maybe he had wanted to see Stanford again—wanted to remember a happier time, to recall a memory frozen in place. The face of his husband, the man he had loved so deeply. But that love was now buried beneath a thousand years of pain and loss, an ache that had festered beyond measure.

Bill Cipher couldn’t move. He stayed there, weeping through the day, letting the weight of eternity crush him.

If he was truly fated to cross paths with that reincarnation, there was only one truth left.

Fate was just so cruel.

Fic is here as well on Ao3!

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