Made a self indulgent standee for a local con!
I’ve got some message lately showing interest from people from overseas so I’m opening an interest check for more character for the standee!
If you’re interested, please help filling the interest check! ‘w’)9
Interest check post HERE
A God and his favorite Seer, these two are like my second favorite idv pair, I also really like them as characters but I DON'T play either of them, lmao 🔮🐙
Fandom — Identity V
Pairing — Hastur/Eli Clark
Summery — As the water neared, Eli took a deep breath, holding his hands over his mouth as he was plunged into the icy water.
Content Warnings — DUBIOUS CONSENT (Eli POV to show its still a yes)
Word Count — 1797
Oletus Manor was many things; it was a scene of a crime, it was a place where the supernatural collected, a death game, but to Eli, it was a life line that allowed for him to repent for the sins of his life. They couldn’t leave unless they were given the letter, they couldn’t die unless they had committed a grave sin, so when Eli was pulled off the shore of a lake that lived near the manor, fingers clawing into the dirt and sand, drawing long lines of struggle that mixed with the lines of Fiona and William’s feet as they attempted to free their companion of the thing, eventually grabbing his hands as they attempted to pull him free.
Eli looked back as he attempted to kick the thing that had grabbed him, though he found no visible body, only a tentacle that wrapped around his ankle, dragging him into the murky depths. Reflecting the evening light, wet and glossy, the tentacle was nothing of any marine animal he had read of, but as he gripped onto William’s forearm, Fiona pulling at his clothing as they dug their feet into the sand.
The water lapped at his toes, a shadow towering over the survivors as they looked up. William was the first to let go, though hesitant, instead choosing to scoop up Fiona and jump away, barely dodging the tentacle that slammed down on the sand. Without their counter pull, Eli yelled as he was tossed into the air, the tentacle taking the time to wrap itself around the seer’s waist, Eli screaming words that he himself couldn’t hear before he heard the wind rush pass his ears.
As the water neared, Eli took a deep breath, holding his hands over his mouth as he was plunged into the icy water.
He couldn’t see anymore, his blindfold gluing itself to his face as he reached his hands for what he supposed was the surface, feeling as the water dropped in temperature around him the further he went. He could hear the sounds of his flailing in the water, the sound of fish scattering at the sight of an unfamiliar entity in the depths, his lungs burning until he couldn’t take it anymore, his body forcing him to release the oxygen in his lungs, water filling his mouth instead.
Then, the descent paused at the lowest point, Eli feeling the sand underneath his toes before he was dragged across the sea floor. He swore he was going to die, a mercy that would have provided some relief to him as his head throbbed — that was until he was tossed out of the water, left the sprawl on stone that was much colder than the water, inhaling air like it were the finest wine. Coughing, spluttering as he got to his hands and feet, the seer eventually lost his lunch on the stone floor, tearing away his blindfold and hood as if it would provide him any sort of sight.
Without being close to his owl, he was blind.
He struggled to his feet, body trembling and shuddering with the cold, shuffling along until he found the nearest wall, gripping onto it for dear life. This wasn’t on any of the maps that he had discovered around the manor, directing himself back to the entrance of the cave, walking until the lapping of the water was loud. He couldn’t feel an entrance under his feet, but, as he reached one hand forward he felt a barrier of water sway against his hand, the prophet gasping as he withdrew, clutching his hand to his chest.
“You aren’t the priestess.” Eli’s head whipped around, the echo of something he had never heard before repeating until only silence remained. Slithering, sliding, he could hear the tentacles as they approached on his position, Eli wondering if he would have better luck swimming back to the surface on his own before he was grabbed, feeling the warmth of another body through his soaked clothing, hot breath fanning across his face. He could feel the stare as the entity studied his face, the familiar smell of lake water and something otherworldly making Eli’s eyes widen. “Ah, the one blessed by a druid.”
The King in Yellow.
The entity didn’t allow for him to escape, hoisting Eli’s body into the air with more of the tentacles it possessed, sliding further into the cave. Lightly tugging on one of the tentacles, Eli found that it was the same grip the god used in the matches, gritting his teeth as the sound of the lapping water grew more and more distant. He knew that they were twisting and turning, but without his sight he knew he wouldn’t be able to navigate this labyrth on his own, forced to obey the god’s wishes, hanging limply.
The air shifted, Eli flinching away from the sudden warmth before being let down, the god thankfully keeping his hands held until he was able to find his footing.
“Remove your clothing.”
“Excuse me?” Eli had never been without his robes in front of anyone else at the manor before, the comfort they brought to him being beyond safety as it was his life, his hands pressing against the front of his woollen torso. “If I may, I would—.”
“Are you choosing to defy me?”
Death was an escape, but he didn’t know what this god would do. Eli slowly stripped himself, first of his hood, attempting to fold it before it was ripped away from his hands. He did the same for most of his clothing, torn away from his hands before he could as much as wring them out before being forced to sit. Like the rest of the cave, the place he sat upon was stone, leaving the seer uncomfortable as he shifted. He wasn’t expecting to feel a finger prod at him, however. Yelping as he jumped back, he slipped from the rock, grunting as his body landed on his side, he scrambled to sit back on the rock, hearing the King in Yellow chuckle at his misfortune.
“Frail,” the god muttered, “you usually would not live to survive the winters.”
Eli couldn’t help it, his eyebrows raising as he heard the information given to him on a silver platter. “How long has it been since you’ve talked to a human?” Eli was quick to rush out a “King in Yellow.”
Tentacles slithered and withered, Eli feeling some poke and prod at his feet, sliding up his legs to feel. “Time does not exist to me.” Eli gently reached for the tentacle that was feeling along his knee cap, finger tips grazing over the surface, feeling as it nuzzled against his palm. He couldn’t help the smile, finding it so charming as he stroked his thumb.
“You do not show fear.”
“You have given me no reason to fear for my life.” Besides dragging him from the surface and into a place which he had no clue where to go — he supposed he could let it slide for now, something he would have to think on later when he came across one of the other survivors if he would be able to return to the manor. As he felt the tentacle slither up his arm, leaving a trail of slime on his skin, Eli shuddered, feeling as the hair on his arms and legs stood on end. It continued until it slowly wrapped around his throat, not applying pressure.
A heat rose to Eli’s cheeks as the tentacles prodded and squeezed at his legs, his thighs, feeling as his groin stirred. It didn’t seem to grow unnoticed by the hunter, feeling as the tentacles poked at his half-hard mast. He pushed the tentacles away quickly, shielding his groin with his hands, but he felt two wrap around his wrists, holding them still.
“The human body is still as grotesque and vile as I remember.” And yet the god was still poking and fondling him as if he were nothing more than a toy. He let out a whine as he was lifted into the air, no doubt so that the god could see him better with its many eyes, Eli attempting to close his legs and yet they were pulled open too.
He didn’t hate it… it just had been far too long since he had been touched by someone else, he wasn’t too sure how to think — but that was taken from him too, feeling as many smaller tentacles wrapped themselves around his cock, the seer thrashing about in the god’s hold. It was too much, too many sensations, tears prickling his eyes as every movement he made only seemed to shoot sparks up his spine. Trying to make noise was fruitless, even before tentacles was shoved in his mouth, feeling as they explored over his teeth and tongue.
What was this sensation?
“I can hear your heartbeat, human.” The god muttered, feeling as its fingers roamed over his cheek, “fast, do you perhaps like this?” A committed man being defiled by a being that wasn’t the one he worshipped? Eli wished he could say no, deny the sin coursing through his body, but he knew that if he did, then he would be lying.
And lying was an even worse sin above all.
Squeezing his eyes tight, he couldn’t escape it, the sensations and the sounds of the tentacles committing sin to his flesh, the way his heart pounded in his chest and the lust grew between his thighs. He knew this was natural, he knew the human body enjoyed feelings of pleasure and companionship, but this?
Eli moaned around the tentacles, drool dripping down his chin as his cock pathetically twitched, his hips leaning into the touch. He knew he was saying please, but he couldn’t pronounce it right, not even able to form words as he felt the tentacles pin down his tongue. His hips thrusted against the tentacles, unable to help it; he was already so close, he needed to feel the sweet end of his release. He needed to spill white, he needed to spill his sin for the god that made him feel so.
Body shuddering, he felt the tentacles tighten their pressure slightly around his cock, Eli tugging on his restraints, fists balling up as the fire burned hot in his belly, hotter than any pyre for a witch, feeling as if he were melting from the inside out. He chased that fire, chased the warmth that spread through his limbs, until he saw white in his darkness, collapsing against the restraints that held him up. As the tentacles left, save for those that kept him suspended, he heard the god chuckle once more.
