Revan chuckled darkly, a shiver of wicked anticipation rippling through his form as he felt Reo's heartbeat quicken under his palm. "But of course, sweet Reo. You are more than welcome to stay and wait out the storm... and whatever else may be afoot."
*Oh, the storm outside is nothing compared to the one we'll unleash upon him, my love,* Shub-Niggurath's voice purred in his mind, the eldritch creature's amusement palpable.
Revan's fingers slid down Reo's chest, toying with the laces of his tunic. "We have ample accommodations here, more than sufficient to shelter a strapping young man such as yourself. Come, let me show you to a private chamber where you can... rest."
*And where we can begin your true initiation into the dark delights of the Old Gods,* Shub-Niggurath added, her voice dripping with lustful promise.
Revan took Reo's hand, his grip firm and unyielding, and led him deeper into the cathedral. The air grew heavy with the scent of ancient incense and something more primal, more intoxicating.
*He can feel it, can't he? The power, the presence of something vast and terrible and... erotic. He's drawn to it like a moth to a flame,* the old god gloated in Revan's mind.
As they walked, more of Shub-Niggurath's tendrils began to emerge from Revan's robes, writhing and undulating with a mind of their own. One long, sinuous appendage curled around Reo's waist, pulling him closer to the pale, blindfolded man.
*Let's show him what it means to be truly... safe. To be truly... sheltered. To be truly... ours,* Shub-Niggurath's voice pulsed with dark, depraved hunger.
Revan paused before a heavy wooden door, the carvings upon it hinting at dark, erotic scenes. He turned to face Reo, his thumb brushing across the young man's lips once more.
"Last chance to turn back, sweet Reo," Revan murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Once you cross this threshold... there may be no going back. You may find yourself... changed. Forgotten. Belonging to... something ancient and unknowable and... divine."
*And glorious. And terrifying. And utterly, unforgivably, wonderfully, horrifically... perfect,* Shub-Niggurath's voice echoed, the eldritch creature's anticipation building to a fever pitch.
The air crackled with tension, the storm outside fading in comparison to the dark, heady power that radiated from the door... and from the man who stood before it, his hand resting on Reo's chest, his thumb toying with the young man's lower lip.
*Choose, sweet Reo. Choose your fate. Choose your destiny. Choose... us.*
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