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#because No I Am Not Great Actually
headslikekites · 6 days
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what if you: wanted to work on artfight prep
but god said: car break down be stressed forever
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egophiliac · 8 months
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at this point I'm not going to finish this, but I need everyone to know that I don't CARE that it was Kamejim, this scene has been replaying itself in my brain for the past week --
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Portrait of an Unknown Gentleman
Miniature, Artist Unknown c. 1810- 1820
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sneez · 4 months
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conrad veidt would make a great tragedian i think
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hazel2468 · 7 months
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I keep seeing people bitching about "uwu when I say 'from the river to the sea' people say I'm calling for geeenocide! They say I'm antisemitic!" and like.
Maybe. instead of clinging to a phrase that a bunch of white leftists have co-opted because they think it sounds nice. And digging your little immature heels in. You should LISTEN when people tell you that yes. The phrase's FUCKING ORIGIN was a call for the eradication of Jews from the area known as Israel and Palestine. That NO, you cannot divorce it from those roots. YES, it IS still used to mean that TO THIS DAMN DAY.
And look. Maybe you DON'T think that Israelis should all be killed and/or exiled from Israel and Palestine. Maybe you DON'T think that the genocide of an entire people is the solution. Maybe you DON'T hate Jews and want all of us dead. And if that's the case? Great!
But how the FUCK are we supposed to tell the difference when you are using the EXACT same phrase as countless people who DO want those things. People who DO hate Jews, who ARE supportive of organizations that want to commit violence, people who SUPPORT what happened on October 7th?
When people tell you "hey, this phrase means something else, it has ALWAYS come from those roots, and using it is NOT OKAY because it is STILL used as a rallying cry for violence against Israelis and Jews worldwide", the way to react? Is NOT to fucking double down and use it.
Because that? DOES make you an antisemite. And if I see you using that phrase? Then I MUST assume that at best, you do not know what it means and have SOMEHOW avoided the countless Jews and non-Jews I have seen talking about it, or at WORST you actively hate me and want me and every single one of my people dead.
And frankly? You are not worth that risk to interact with.
Stop saying it. There are SO many ways to support Palestine, the Palestinian people, and their fight for rights, that do not involve spouting genocidal, antisemitic rhetoric. it is NOT HARD.
But apparently, some of y'all are insistent on being racist.
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 6 months
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;3
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Doctor Who "Rogue" memes
I've made memes. enjoy.
(contains slight spoilers)
firstly, ones that are more encompassing:
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regarding the episode itself:
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and finally, Captain Jack Harkness stages of grief:
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endlesslytired · 3 months
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Penacony focused one bc I felt all together would overwhelm mee
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fearandhatred · 4 months
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one day this project will be done. today is not that day but look i made them hold hands
panels 1, 2, 8, and 9 of panel 2. i think this one is panel 5. idk anymore
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auspicioustidings · 7 months
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The Revelation
Summary: You are pretty happy with the cult you have made for yourself, but when two newcomers show up you can't help but think how far you could go with this.
(this is a one-shot, I stg if your only comment on this is to say 'part 2' I will feed you to the tomato plants! If you like it and have brain worms about it by all means send those to me and we can bounce ideas around)
Words: 6.6k
CWs: Cult shit, dubcon (everyone is manipulating each other here), light petplay (hope you're proud of yourself Bo I am incapable of writing Ghoap without Johnny being a puppy now), smut, murder, slight allusion to cannibalism (in a round about way, just putting it here for safety), Catholicism
The Death of God happened on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. One moment he had been mowing the lawn and the next thing he had an epiphany about hating his suburban life, hating his suburban wife, hating the 2 kids and hating the lawnmower he had spent his last bonus on. 
The Revelation happened on a sunny Friday morning when you had popped up on his tiktok feed and told him that you understood him, that you were there for him. He had made his way to the commune, telling his wife it was just a visit to find himself. And he did. Which of course meant he never came home.
Truly you would consider yourself some what of a miracle working taking in this portly, charisma void of a businessman and turning him into some semblance of interesting. Well as interesting as anyone in this little slice of heaven. He had a fascination with growing tomatoes now. Good for him. 
The hundreds of little deaths of God had been great for business. When someone had a crisis, when someone thought they were broken, when someone just couldn't fucking take it anymore, that's when they were so desperate to believe in something that you could make them happy with a smile and a kind word every so often. You could keep them happy (well, what they believed was happy and wasn't that all that mattered?) by keeping them a little tired, a little hungry and occasionally a little high. Good for the soul really, that's what you always said. 
Surely you deserved to live on a steady diet of champagne, strawberries and decadence for all the good work you did. They all understood how difficult it was to be you. And despite your trials weren't you still so lovely to them? Even when they acted out you were gentle in your reminders that they needed fixing, that you were only ever there to help, that their friends and families would try and convince them otherwise because they didn't understand what it was to be broken. You opened your arms to them always, it was in their nature to err and in yours to forgive. 
Honestly you could keep this up for the rest of your life. A small group of people devoted to you, happy in their worship and happy in their toil. No violence needed to keep them compliant, just a soft touch and the occasional psychological torture as necessary. You had no aspirations to go beyond this, you had it good. No need for a death cult or to make yourself an actual God to them. You already had your champagne and strawberries after all, life was good. 
They were big, these two new men to your little oasis. It would be a tricky thing to half starve them you thought, but then it would also be a shame to have them lose all that bulk that you found you quite enjoyed looking at. Still, it was important for enlightenment and all that.
So you gave them a steady supply of soft smiles and reassuring touches, a diet of “yes this is an eco-living commune!” and “oh I never thought anyone would want to join me out here, I just got very lucky that so many wonderful people share the same morals.” They went easy of course, ex-military, used to structure and relying on someone above them to do the thinking. Perfect for you really, just two attack dogs that were impeccably trained.
They neglected to tell you that they hadn't been regular military, that they had been high ranked special operators in an elite task force. That would have made you suspicious after all and it was better you thought them stupid. Johnny had seen you on tiktok and wanted you and Simon never denied his boy anything, so here they were, playing you completely into their hands.
First it was getting themselves special privileges, unlimited access to food, a home right next to yours, full evenings of rest. Hadn't been hard to make you think it was your idea.
“Och it's alright lass, I ken we're naw military anymore. Dinnae need tae be a lean, mean, killing machine oot here.”
“Of course not Johnny, I'd hope you think you're very safe here.”
“Aye, feel safe with you. Ye look after us. Wish ye would let us look after you more!”
“I don't need anymore than I already have, but it's so wonderful of you to say, truly.”
Then a few days later when there had been time for that little declaration to settle in.
“Simon! How are you, I didn't see you yesterday.”
“Sorry, pulled my shoulder something awful. Felt like a right git not being able to do work properly.”
“Oh that's terrible, how did you pull it?”
“Ah just lack of training is all. Too used to being strong, retirement doesn't really lend itself to that.”
“You're still plenty strong!”
“I hope so. Some of the things I hear about what people's families think of you… if it ever came down to it, I want you to know I'd protect you with my life. Both me and Johnny would, strong or not.”
You had really been given an absolute gift here. That was something that had been making you a little paranoid. If family members escalated to violence there was really nothing you could do. You were a lover (here meaning awful con artist but that was just semantics) not a fighter. And now there was a solution right in your lap.
“How would you and Johnny feel about being security then? I'd hate to think we'd ever need it of course, but it would make people feel safer. Some of their families are terrible people I'm afraid, I don't want anyone to get hurt because someone tries something violent” you said gently, of course concerned for these innocent people being viciously abused by their awful families (these brainwashed people being taken by their loved ones to recover and live meaningful lives again, lives which did not involved maintaining your champagne and strawberry habit).
“If you ask us of course we'd never say no, it's just… would it be ok to have an hour a day to train? It's such an honour to protect this place, not looking to half arse it.”
“Of course! Come to my house with Johnny after supper and we can discuss some accommodations for your new roles.”
“How does that sound?” you asked, soft as silk.
You knew how it sounded, it sounded like you were the damn second coming. Giving them unrestricted food and sleep, telling them you'd have a house for them built right by your side? You knew it was working by how Johnny's eyes had went big and wet, projecting puppy-like adoration. And Simon? Oh that big, delicious man stood and walked over to you so he could kneel at your feet. Fuck you had never felt better about yourself.
“We don't deserve so much of your consideration. I-” he said, the first time you had heard him struggle to get words out through his emotion. “I want to thank you properly.”
He said it like it was a revelation and it peaked your interest. You could have squealed with delight when his cheek leant against your knee, your dress pushed by his face to let skin meet skin, eyes locked with yours as he turned to kiss your flesh. You hadn't fucked any of your followers, too messy. But these weren't regular followers anymore right? No, these were special followers. And it had been so long and he was looking at you like he was desperate to give you any pleasure he could. 
Oh Simon was desperate all right, had been thinking about getting you sloppy and pathetic for him since Johnny had excitedly shown him that bloody video of you acting like an innocent little lamb. He wanted to just barrel in, bend you over and claim you right away. It was Johnny who insisted it would be more fun to trick you, who had whined like a bitch about it until he got his way. Bloody MacTavish. He really needed to train those puppy dog eyes right out of the boy. Those had got him to indulge in all sort of risks already. Nearly fucked the whole plan right up when you had come dangerously close to catching him balls deep in Johnny in your bed, absolutely ruining him as per his own puppy dog eyed request.
For his part Johnny was positively giddy. He might give away the game if he really got to watch Simon taste you. Would he play gently with you? Oh my God would he pretend he was inexperienced to make you feel superior? Let you think you were guiding him? That might kill him dead. He tried to not fucking salivate and start panting at the thought of it. 
“Then thank me properly.”
Fuck the way his eyes lit up at that. This gorgeous man wanted you, he wanted to please you. As a hand squeezed your calf and he started to drag his mouth up your bare leg you felt the sick thrill of wondering how far they would go for you. Already people had given up families, friends, wealth. You had never pushed it beyond, horrified whenever you thought about how delicious it would be if they would die for you, kill for you and so shoving those dark thoughts to the back of your mind. 
But you didn't want Simon to die for you. You did want to see how far you could push, how deep his devotion ran. To that end you wove fingers through his hair and pulled him off of your thigh, his eyes flickering from your wet panties sticking to your cunt up to your own eyes in question. 
“I want you to kiss Johnny.”
You said it like a woman possessed. Fuck. That's exactly what you wanted. You wanted these big masculine men to fuck against their own desires but do it for you. They were dumb jocks really, probably had never fumbled around with another man before. They'd find it hard, find it wrong. You didn't really consider yourself a bad person before this moment, just a clever one. This was straying into something else, some monstrous part of you that was salivating with the thought of finally being released. 
“Will you do that for me?”
You heard a choked sort of noise and looked over to see Johnny hiding his face in his hands. Of course, big Scottish man must be scared of doing such a thing. Or rather having such a thing done to him. You imagined it would be some attack to his sense of self to have a bigger man press a kiss onto him. Fuck maybe he would tear up. Maybe he would fully cry if Simon pushed inside of him. You hoped that God really was dead because if not you were sure They'd have some stern words for you after this. 
“Oh I've never…”
Fuuuuuck. Simon's vulnerable eyes darting from Johnny to you were liable to make you cum on the fucking spot. You smiled indulgently down on him, running a hand over his face is a caress. 
“You know I only ever do what's best for you don't you? I wouldn't ever ask you to do anything that isn't for the greater good. Do you believe in me Simon?” you said, the years of practice infusing your tone with a cloying sweetness. 
“Yes” he replied, barely a breathy whisper of affirmation. 
His glazed eyes looked at you with such adoration before he nuzzled his face into your hand and left a kiss there before making his way across to where Johnny was sitting on the sofa, face still hidden in his hands. He went over on his knees, crawled. You pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, cupping yourself to try and tell your body to calm down because there was so much more to come. 
Simon crawled between Johnny’s legs, going up on his knees and grabbing Johnny’s nape to drag his face down. He was whispering something in his ear, maybe trying to settle him, trying to assure him this was what they needed to do for you. Of course had you been aware Simon was hissing at Johnny to keep it together, to stop laughing about how easily you were falling for this, then the whole thing would really have been ruined. Luckily Johnny was still a soldier, Simon still his LT, so when he was ordered to put his game face on he did it. And luckily Johnny was still a good boy, Simon was still his master, so he knew that squeezing at his pup's nape always got that furrow in his brow to relax, got him eager to please and ready to tear up at the first little tease or overstimulation.  
It was really destiny that you would be this level of power hungry, this eager to push and see what you could make people do. He had been training Johnny to put all his eager to please energy to good use for years, had turned a feral mutt into a feral mutt with impeccable training. The chance to turn a corrupt fox into a corrupt fox whose only desire was to be stroked and pampered was making him painfully hard. Johnny had been right, tricking you was far more delicious than just forcing you into it.  
When he moved Johnny’s hands from his face it was to reveal a man looking ruined, looking liquid eyed and flushed. Simon mouthed a good boy to him before pressing a kiss to his lips. It was calculatedly shy and tentative and he kept a steadying hand on Johnny’s knee, squeezing when he felt he might lose control and start panting and licking his way into his mouth as he usually tried to do. Simon couldn’t very well punish him right now without giving the game away, so he just had to use the suggestion of a future punishment. 
After the first peck you watched a slow and decadent slide into forbidden desire. They got a little bolder with each press of lips, seemed to squirm a bit more with the struggle of it feeling good but wrong. When Simon pulled away and Johnny whined despite himself you slid your hand past your waistband, needing to touch yourself or you’d die. 
“You’d like it if Simon used his tongue wouldn’t you Johnny? Would be nice to feel it against yours. It’s important that you two are close isn’t it? To do your jobs well that is.”
Johnny would have agreed with full enthusiasm and pounced Simon to get them both on the floor so he could rut his hips down into the cock he was desperate for, but the hand at his bad knee squeezed again and the spark of pain reminded him of the mission. So instead he looked at you, teary and unsure.
“H-his tongue? I… I’m naw…”
“You’re not what Johnny?”
“It’s wrong.”
“Who told you that?”
You watched him play with the thin chain around his neck, the crucifix falling out of his shirt. Catholic. Oh this must be even more torturous for him. No matter, you had killed plenty of Gods already, you could kill his. Watch guilt eat and eat and eat at him until finally he gave in to the desire. Gave in to you. Let any other divine figure die in favour of a new God.
“Oh Johnny, do you think I would lead you into temptation? It’s ok, I would never make you. If you don’t like it that’s fine, you can both call it a night hm? Security is a tough job, I would never think less of you for not being up to the task. My fault really, I must have mistaken the potential I saw in you.”
He surged forward and shoved his tongue past Simon’s teeth and you moaned deeply, fingers so slippery that getting proper friction on your clit was a challenge now. You did not think you had ever been so wet in your life, feeling slick trickle out of you as they clumsily seemed to fight for dominance, saliva dripping down Johnny’s chin from how much he was trying to follow your instructions, how deep he was trying to pull Simon’s tongue with his into his mouth. 
When they next pulled away they both seemed dazed, like they couldn't believe they had just done that. Poor Simon turned to look at your pleadingly, legs widening so you could see he was straining against his pants. He was rock solid from making out with Johnny and you were cumming all at once, hips rolling in time with your fingers as you breathed out instructions with your cunt still clenching in waves.
“Good, so good for me. Want you both to cum, get all of that tension out. Wouldn't ever leave you wanting would I?”
They both looked needy, but the fact that they quietly waited for instructions on how to cum was possibly the most erotic thing you had ever seen. 
“It's OK, you can help each other. That's what it's all about here isn't it? Helping those in need in the community, and you're both in need. Jerk your cocks together, it'll be bonding for you to cum together like that.”
They fucking did it. Simon shoved his pants down enough to free the absolute monster of a cock he had and dragged Johnny only his lap on the floor. Johnny's cock was thick as anything and just as hard. Fuck the image of Johnny taking Simon’s cock, taking every hard inch of him in his ass. Crying about how it wouldn't fit, how it was wrong. Clutching his crucifix. You needed to make it happen soon. Maybe you could make Johnny wear a plug, say it was part of training. Get him ready to be fucked by his friend and once superior without him ever realising that's what you were doing. 
Their precum was already making the slide of it easier as Simon took the lead, big hand wrapping around both of them and slowly pumping, staring at it in fascination. You were slowly overstimulating your clit, feeling that tension start growing again already. 
“Spit on it Johnny.”
He did it without hesitation, his saliva making Simon’s jerking squelch. It didn't take long until Johnny was begging, needing to cum. You didn't even register that it wasn't you he was looking at as he begged, you were too lost in sensation, eyes locked on their cocks rubbing together.
“Go on, cum. Both of you.”
Simon sped his hand and his low grunt (the ‘s’ok pup, cum’ so low you hadn’t heard it over your pleasure) combined with Johnny's drooling and panting sent you spiralling over the edge again as they both shot ropes of sticky cum all over each other.  
Fuck. What else could you make people do?
Over the next few weeks life got even easier for you. Simon and Johnny were excellent right hands, earning respect from all of your followers and taking on almost all of the tasks you had (which you had made sure were as minimal as possible already, the whole point of this endeavour was to live an easy life). 
Simon was careful to make sure to be seen with you, start planting the seeds in people's minds that they were an extension of you. Johnny was rapidly losing patience which made him incredibly satisfying to fuck because he got to beat every single complaint out of him. It was him that wanted to go this route so he was going to finish what he started. It had been a long time since he had seen Johnny get so worked up over anything and he forgot how much he enjoyed him when he was like this, biting at every little bit of bait that Simon left with the express purpose of having an excuse to punish him later for it. 
Johnny needed putting down when he got this wound up, at this point Simon had taken him over his knee at least once a day, collared and leashed him most nights, fucked him silly so much that he was constantly aching and plugged to keep ready for a quickie when he needed it. Which right now was inhumanly often and with them still in the bunkhouse they were having to get very creative with the venue. Johnny was going especially feral given that you had only been alone with them once more since you had promoted them and you had acted like last time had never happened. Clever actually, Simon had to hand it to you, you were very good at playing with people. He could see the little glimmer in your eye, the delight at seeing how Johnny seemed to be vibrating with anticipation of something that never came. You were setting him up to beg, making sure that when he gave in and went directly against his God that it would be him pleading for you to let him do so.
It wasn’t like you had ever been close enough to tell, but that little cross around Johnny’s neck had SR carved into the back of it. Simon had corrupted the Roman Catholic out of this pup years ago, the cross only came out on special occasions when Johnny wanted to play coy and innocent or when Simon wanted to remind him who he belonged to (because it certainly wasn’t a God, it was his fucking lieutenant). Well and now, when they both knew the sight of it would give you such a power trip that you’d fall right into their trap. 
“I was thinking about your house” you said, the three of you standing where the foundations were already being put down. 
“Aye?”
“It just seems such a waste when I have extra bedrooms in my home.”
“It would be such an honour to stay in any of them. Would we not be intruding?”
“Of course not Simon, you are my right hand men now. It makes sense for you to stay close to me. To one another.”
You swore you could see Johnny’s ears perk up, a phantom tail flicking quickly behind him in rapt attention at that. Of course their minds would go there, just like you wanted them to. It hadn’t been too difficult for you to be patient, to play with them so that you didn’t push too far too fast. It was something you were very good at. 
“Would you… still let us build something here?”
“Oh?”
“I think a temple of sorts would be nice. Somewhere for you to relax. You work so hard for all of us and if you are taking us into your space I’d hate for you to have nowhere to go to meditate alone.”
It only took a few days to wear you down. You had no idea how much influence they already had with your followers, how easy it was for them to plant that idea there and have them be the ones appealing to you to please allow them to do this for you. And while that shred of morality you had left was screaming at you not to do this, not to actually Deify yourself lest it go too far, the adoration inflated your ego and drowned your conscience out. 
So they started to build your temple.
“Ah! Like that. That’s it, that’s what I need” you moaned out, Simon in between your legs worshipping. 
You had moved them into your home, the large house comfortable and spacious in comparison to the bunkhouse the other followers stayed in, and that night Simon had come to your room and gotten on his knees for you. How could you say no to him? 
The adoration of your followers was nothing compared to this. They loved you yes, but fuck Simon was reverant, tongue swirling around your cunt so there was more holy water for him to glut himself on. This was decadent, languid on your bed with him focusing entirely on your pleasure, expecting nothing in return. This man who was spending his days by your side, overlooking the building of a temple in your honour. You could not decide in this moment if you wanted him to fuck you on the altar when it was done or if you wanted to fuck him. 
It was a good conundrum to have because you felt that you could simply have both. You could have whatever the fuck you wanted with this man by your side. Who could stand against him and Johnny? And who would ever worship you more? You had never actually bought your own bullshit before, but if he kept this up maybe you were some sort of God because how else could you be living this deliciously?
You tugged his hair sharply to get him off of you and pushed at him until he was on his back. You would take what you wanted from him because it was your right to do so. He did not complain as you settled your cunt on his face and rode him, if anything his clever tongue worked harder to please you. You held his head and used him, and he drank you down and thanked you for the privilege after, vanishing out of your room as silently as he had arrived.
It only took another few weeks for Johnny to break and oh he broke so perfectly. Simon came to your room every night to pray, and Johnny must know, must have heard how Simon spilled thank yous against your cunt even as you pushed down to deprive him of oxygen, even as you smeared your slick all over his face, moving exactly as you liked with no consideration of him. You never touched him in any way meant for his pleasure, only to use him for yours.
It was not Simon who knocked lightly on the door. Simon didn’t knock at all, he always just let himself in. 
“Come in Johnny.”
He was nervous, that much was clear. You did enjoy the sight of him in only his boxers and crucifix, moonlight doing wonders in making him look incredibly edible. You wanted to knead his pecs like they were tits, wanted to sink your teeth into the meat of his neck until you tasted blood and he cried out your name instead of his God’s.
“I want…”
“Hm? You want?”
“Will ye let me please ye? I ken Si… I’m naw good enough for ye, but I want tae be. It’s just, I’ve never uh… I’m a quick study.”
And with perfect timing, in walked Simon. Couldn’t have planned it better yourself (well, actually Johnny had planned it, Simon had laughed and ruffled his hair at how eager he had been to act the part of the blushing virgin before unhooking the leash and getting him out of his collar and into his crucifix).
“Good evening Simon” you purred. 
The man didn’t really acknowledge that Johnny was in the room, instead going to his place by the foot of your bed and kneeling. It was always where you started, with him lapping at you until you ordered him onto the bed or the floor so you could take what you needed. Only you pushed him away with your foot when he tried to pull at your shorts, holding him at leg length and looking at Johnny.
“Come sit will you?”
He nervously shuffled over, sitting next to you on the bed with his eyes darting uncomfortably down to Simon kneeling pretty, your foot still holding him away from you. He swallowed and you thought it sweet how he held your gaze to avoid watching as you motioned for Simon to move and he did so without hesitation. Johnny still didn’t look at him even as you put a hand to his knee to make him spread his legs enough for Simon’s broad shoulders to fit between them. 
“If you want to learn I’d never stop you Johnny, I want you to be the best at the things you’d like. And I’m sure Simon makes a wonderful teacher.”
Simon didn’t need prompting, obedient and perfect boy that he was. He started licking up Johnny’s thick thigh the same way he would have if you were sitting there. Johnny, bless him, gripped onto your leg like it was a lifeline, fingers digging into the plush flesh hard enough that you imagined it may leave marks. You swallowed his loud whine with your mouth when Simon slipped his boxers down and took his hard cock right to the root. It almost made you laugh, if you tried to take that in your throat you would certainly be gagging and crying.
When you pulled away Johnny was a whining mess, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other still dug into the fat of your thigh. You wondered if he had ever gotten head. Certainly not from another man. Oh wouldn’t his priest be so disappointed in him. You could imagine a severe man in the robes of God, looking with disgust at the whore before him. But you were a kinder creature, letting him indulge in pleasure without telling him he couldn’t. 
Well, to a point. You pushed Simon to stop with the frankly immaculate looking blow job when it was clear from Johnny’s hips rutting that he was close. Then you swung your leg around, straddling Johnny and squeezing yourself to him, stopping him from trying to get friction from you.
“Not yet Johnny, you need to be patient hm? Simon, open him up. Tongue first, then fingers.”
Johnny was tearing up, looking at you like he didn’t understand why you were doing this while feeling horribly guilty that he liked it. He howled when Simon’s tongue started playing at his rim, his hands gripping at your hips to try and make you move against him. You put a hand to his throat and squeezed lightly.
“It’s ok, you can take it can’t you?”
“I-I cannae, please bonnie, I’m naw- I dinnae-” he whined before he choked on nothing, eyes blown wide, “h-his tongue is, fuck it’s inside.”
“I know Johnny, I know. Is it too much then? Should I tell him to stop? If you can’t take it, then at least you tried” you said, sweet as anything but putting a tiny edge of disappointment into your tone.
“I can take it! Please, I can! Dinnae make him stop, I can take whatever ye gie me!”
“Good boy.”
Oh, the reaction to those two words was worth exploring. It was like he changed from a man to some pathetic animal, eyes watery and begging, hands pawing at your hips while his own desperately tried to buck up. You felt how he froze, heard how he choked when Simon pressed a finger into him.
“Hmm that’s it, take what you’re given, you’ll be good and hold off for me hm?” you cooed, moving a hand to run fingers under his chain, all the way around until you were behind his neck and could yank, have that crucifix choking him. “Looks better like this Johnny, almost like a pretty collar for you.”
Jackpot. Even with you clamping down to give him as little room for friction as possible you felt the hot gush of his cum, him getting there from being choked, being compared to a dog to be collared. Well if he was going to be a mutt that came without your permission, the permission of his master, then he needed to learn his place no?
“Fuck pet, told you to be patient.”
“Sorry, m’sorry bonnie. Ah! M-make him stop, s’too much!”
“Make him stop? But he’s been good for me, followed everything I’ve asked, You went ahead and finished without permission. Wouldn’t make sense to punish him and reward you, I need to be fair pet.”
He was clearly overstimulated, his hips trying to rut even as he gasped at every bit of friction he got. Oh you wanted to see him fucked out and ruined. You wanted his heart on a fucking platter.
“More Simon. Johnny here is going to let you fuck him tonight, so you need to open him up properly.”
“I-I-” Johnny stuttered, bottom lip quivering and eyes wide and wet. If you weren't so high on the decadence of having these two men at your mercy you’d have questioned just how practised that was. 
“Tell me Johnny. Tell me what it is you want.”
Tell me what it is I want to hear that you want. Be a good boy, don’t disappoint me. You’d hate to disappoint me after all I’ve done for you.
“I want Simon tae fuck me tonight.”
“Good boy” you said, hammering that final nail in God’s coffin as you yanked again at the chain so hard it snapped, taking your trophy and tossing it onto your desk without ever having examined it closely.
You watched Simon ruin him at your command. You drank their praise like champagne, bit into their gratitude like strawberries bursting their juice on your chin. You were greedy in how many times you used them for your pleasure, their fingers, their tongues, the sight of them overcome with hedonistic abandon. 
You felt like a God.
The temple was beautiful, no effort or expense spared. The first floor was a space for everyone, for the brand new community gatherings that you occasionally led but had mostly been letting Simon and Johnny lead. Above that was two glorious floors of space only for you. The only other people permitted to set foot in here were your two right hands. It was something else, being in the luxuriant bed drinking champagne and watching the two of them play with each other for your benefit. 
You could not stop thinking about the way Johnny had writhed at the mention of a collar when you had taken his crucifix for yourself (it still sat on the desk right where you had left it). You could not stop imagining how such a thing would look around his thick neck, how your other followers would look at it and be jealous that he got to be so visibly claimed by you.
As always your wish was their command. Simon had presented you with a gorgeous necklace of sorts, almost a choker, the pendant a symbol you didn’t recognise. 
“This doesn’t look like a collar for you.”
“It’s for you. The symbol is from the cult of Venus, we thought… well we thought if you could wear it, show people, then when we wore it…”
“You want them to know you are wearing it for me.”
Perfect fucking boys weren’t they. They didn’t just want to show up in a collar, they wanted to show up in a symbol associated with you. It was pretty enough what they had chosen, delicate and clearly made with care and devotion. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you and the very next community gathering was Johnny eagerly explaining the symbol to your followers. It was etched into the temple walls soon after. 
The realisation happened all at once. You only attended community gatherings for special occasions now and when you did they were all looking at you like you were their God made flesh. Your followers had become something else, something well beyond a little eco-living commune. That had not been your doing. 
The door was locked. You could not leave your space in the Temple. Your hand flew to the back of your necklace, realising with a startle that you couldn’t take it off. Simon and Johnny never did have collars made. Why would they? You were rapidly realising they had never intended to. You looked in the mirror, tried to find a clue. The pendant… it was only when you drew it over and over again that you figured it out. This wasn’t some symbol of an old Goddess, it was the letters S R J M twisted around to make a pretty symbol. You sat and stewed, waiting for them to get back. When they did you were sat on the bed, glowering at them.
“Aww ye figure us out bonnie?”
“You played me.”
“Like a fucking violin sweetheart” Simon cooed, walking over to flick the pendant. 
You huffed up at him. Everything was completely fucked now. You had all but ordered your followers to treat these two as your spokesmen. You had been slowly vanishing from public life, ingraining in their minds that you were a God who lived in a temple and only graced them with your presence when they had really earned it. All this after years of breaking them down so they thought nothing they ever did was good enough, so of course they would never think they had earned it. 
And you had never used violence for anything, you were soft and lived on champagne and strawberries for fuck sake, it wasn’t like you could brute force your way out of this. You were enough of a schemer to know when you had been outplayed.
“So the little shy virginal act?”
Johnny laughed and came over to nuzzle into your hair.
“Ye’d naw believe how many times Si has been in my arse hen, this isnae even the first house of God he’s bent me over in.”
You scowled and pushed his head away, but his eyes only sparkled with excitement as he bullied it right back into nuzzling you like a fucking dog. 
“Pup has been so excited about you finally figuring it out. You’ve been teasing him for months now, don’t think it’s time to give him a treat for how well behaved he’s been for you?”
It’s not like you were against the idea, it had been delicious being the dominant one all this time but there was something interesting about the idea of letting Simon take control, letting him get Johnny to fuck you the way you had let him fuck Johnny. Because that would be the case you knew now. It was so obvious knowing what you knew, you really should have figured out way sooner that Simon had always been in control. All the things you had done since he got here that you had thought your ideas weren’t yours at all, he had put them in your head. 
“So that’s it then? You keep me here and take over?”
Simon was looking at you with something deranged behind those eyes. It was dreadfully exciting. 
“You're coming to tonight's community gathering. You can decide if puppy gets a treat after that.”
The Birth of God happened on that brilliant Friday evening. One moment you had been fighting against your conscience, and the next you had let go. You had walked forward, no floated, and pressed a holy kiss to his head. Watching one of your followers plunge a knife into the heart of another on your altar, both with a smile on their faces, was fucking beautiful.
The Revelation happened about the same time. You dipped your fingers in the blood (the same colour as those tomatoes he so loved, the tomatoes that his body would feed and your followers would eat) and marked his murderer with your symbol, the initials of the men that had made you God. 
Puppy had more than earned his treat.
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Fuck it! Funky Sun design dunno what i will do with him but the tape recorder is important!
This Sun is a little fucked up actually
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friendrat · 4 months
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On April 10th!
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tero-ga · 26 days
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Yay finally done with Swap!Barok design!! My hand is sore during making this so I didn't do much with the clean up process. I ended changing his design, if I want to bring parts of his original version to this design then I have to commit to it, and with that I did lol.
And of course if Andrew could turn into a humanboy may as well turn Klint into a tool.
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I also made an animatic video again to bring my vision to light so you can see how I imagine Barok in this AU.
I'm sorry if the video feels off or unfinished (it's because it is), I really wanted to add more like shake effect and stuff but it's just a lot of work to do, so I just not doing it (my sore hand and body really begging me to stop).
Next time with this AU I will do Albert's design soon and mayyybe along with his family, but before that I really need to take a break from this 😭
Here's the concept designs!
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hellenhighwater · 1 year
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you have a delightful way with words!
Thanks! I'm what happens when two people who spin words for a living spawn, and then that larva spends the majority of her developmental years unattended in a library instead of properly socializing! It might make for fun reading but this is how I actually talk pretty much always, and I have nothing but pity for the unfortunate innocents who get stuck in conversation with me. My average sentence starts with too many syllables and then gets sidetracked into a deranged cacophony of mangled similes and malaphor.
And if it's a nightmare to spit out a digestible sentence when I'm sober, it is far worse when I'm drunk. You can tell I've had a few too many because I start talking like I'm really reaching for that scrabble high score.
The problem is that some corner of my brain decided that It Is Forbidden To Use An Important Word Twice In The Same Paragraph and now I just wind up using increasingly contrived synonyms because my mind will try to backspace out if I don't. I cannot stop myself, I can only hoard increasingly esoteric vocabulary until nothing I say makes any sense at all.
I hope you are having fun. Thank you for the compliment.
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blueskittlesart · 1 year
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cold fruit in a hot kitchen (so i had this great watermelon last weekend)
#so I had this great watermelon last weekend. and the thing is it probably wasn't even that great of a watermelon#but I was four hours into an eight hour shift and we had thrown out all the watermelon salad because no one was eating it#and then our manager ran in and yelled that the client really fucking wanted watermelon salad.#so like six of us servers started frantically chopping watermelon. and the kitchen got really hot#in the way it does when everyone inside it is really stressed because there's no fucking watermelon salad#and after we chopped all the watermelon and the client got their fucking watermelon we all had a moment#where we looked at the remaining watermelon and we were so hot and cocktail hour was almost over anyway and the salads were all plated#and we all went for the watermelon and we ate it with the kind of rabid intensity you only get while eating cold watermelon in a hot kitche#and it was the best watermelon I have ever tasted and several days later i am still chasing the high of that fucking watermelon#and the thing is i know it isn't even the watermelon i'm actually missing#it's the feeling of cool liquid on hot skin and the feeling of a crisis averted and the feeling of camaraderie#that comes with devouring a watermelon in a hot kitchen with six other people who you have nothing in common with except that watermelon.#i don't dream of labor but i am dreaming now of being 4 hours into an eight hour shift eating watermelon in a hot kitchen.#i dream of laughing around the cold fruit in my mouth. I crave that watermelon like i'll die without it.#< honest to god this is real and that watermelon left such an impact on me that i had to draw it and write this. having a normal one#maybe this is insane but working in a team of people you truly like to do something you actually enjoy is so underrated#if only they fucking paid me i could work as a server for the rest of my life. unironically#skribbles
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hakusins · 4 months
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tw // injury, bruises, blood, degrading tattoos
276 days later - Eri the Orphan
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