#the curse of us sinning & healing

[sad-girl-poetry]

GUYS

the final chapter and epilogue of the curse of us sinning & healing is in final revisions. it's LITERALLY almost finished. i am in shock.

coming soon.

[withbeasts]

@vitalphenomena, x.

he's used to dealing with many different setbacks in his little 'infiltrations,' but this was a new one.

" keep your voice low. " there's a knife pressed against her back, and he's got everything around them altered to darkness. " are you working with this group? "

[cloudedcreams]

yandere cleric! <3

he used to be such a righteous man. stern on his morals and devoted to helping others. yet all the ideals he’d built upon himself, all the resolution he’d held towards his god had came crumbling down the moment he met you.

you weren’t perfect, you weren’t innocent. there was something so pure about you, something so truly broken that had brought him towards you. he wanted to know you, to heal you, but other time he became aware of the fact that he wanted to *love* you.

with love, stems lust.

he hadn’t noticed at first. he had felt so blessed by his gods to have met you, so entranced with your existence he had barely taken note of his own. he only knew what was happening to you as he held you from your knee, begging for forgiveness.

it had overcome him so quickly. he had grasped onto you so tightly, tears rolling down his cheeks as his lips quivered.

he begged for you to take the feeling away. to relieve him of his sins, to *purify* him. he had looked so helpless, kneeling down in front of you, pleading to you as though you held the power of a god.

that night, the two of you made love. he had cried when releasing, letting out a strangled moan so passionate it made your heart race. with so much pent up energy he had forced himself to hold back, he was more sensitive than every, whimpering at every touch you graced him with.

he felt pleasure beyond his wildest dreams. he cursed the god he had worshipped his whole life for denying him of such a feeling, pledging to devote himself to you instead.

[withbeasts]

he does not think of little of her. when they were younger, she was simply not accustomed to the world around her, and as an adult he learned why. his parents may be protective, but they would never keep him locked up away from the world. it didn't seem like much of a life, even with loads and loads of money.

" i'm not normal. " he quietly reminds her. " normal -- people can't get in. "

he wishes he were aster now, and his skin could just heal itself. ( he still had his mother's mutant gene, and the sliver of his fathers altered dna. he didn't know it was the only reason he was alive half the time. )

" -- can i stay here? "

THERE'S STILL SO MUCH ABOUT THE WORLD THAT STELLA DOESN'T KNOW, DOESN'T UNDERSTAND. There are expanses she's only read about or seen on classmates' social media feeds. Even those examples are minuscule, laughable examples of the evils that Andrew goes up against on a nightly basis.

She doesn't know too much about the discrimination that mutants before her and contemporaneous to her experienced or experienced. Wealth and her father's own abilities have been a shield from that. Maybe she would be better off with a thicker skin. She often thinks so.

You're kind of like a fairy tale.

Stella smiles absently. Maybe Andrew is trying to compliment her. Maybe he isn't trying to do anything at all. But it hurts that he might actually think so little of her.

"What do you mean, nobody can get in?" She tries to keep smiling. "You're right here. So why would I feel like that at all?"

She does. She really, really does feel like that.

[mai-komagata]

so here is my melkor hot take of the day. i dont think melkor is more evil than sauron.

like yes, tolkien said sauron is less evil than melkor bc he is devoted and obedient to him, i.e. catholic theological legalese, since love and obedience are the catholic virtue things that dont originate from evil. cool. ASIDE FROM THAT.

and like, melkor is totally MORE POWERFUL than sauron by like orders of magnitude. sure. melkor is the evil soup that suffuses the world like original sin and the fall do in catholic theology.

but like if in looking at intent and what they do, i dont think you can say that for sauron's relative power, i hesitate to say he is more evil, but he is evil in a more insidious and dangerous way common to our age.

like i see melkor very much representing the evil of the natural world (and to some degree part of the universal plan of eru iluvatar). he is volcanoes. he is the blight of winter. he is disease and pestilence and decay. he is the coming of darkness, the destruction of creation. the entropy of the universe. he desires the spark or life but can only subdivide endlessly like bacteria.

but that is part of the fallen world in theological terms even if it shouldn't be part of a healed world of immortal quasi spiritual (or actually spiritual) beings. it is imperfection if the goal is deathlessness. but it is part of the world.

and to a degree i see valar as having this sort of impersonal force of nature quality about them. not just melkor. they all do. tolkien describes them like heavenly bureaucrats. they arent tied to the world and dont understand the world in a tangible personal way that even the maiar do.

sauron is different and i think there is a reason sauron is the villain in the books in the second and third age and specifically in the main book he published. he is the evil of our modern world.

because most mythologies dont have two dark lords. one representing chaos and destruction and one representing order and coercion and industry.

it represents a fundamental swing in how cultures started to conceptualize evil. we mastered science and thus a lot of the things that were a curse from the gods were being solved. and yet. the world wasn't becoming less evil. we still want to control each other, to subjugate others. we want to tame nature so much it kills her and makes her barren. we covet power because we are afraid of the lack of it.

so yeah. sauron and melkor are both evil. but sauron was subject to melkor (or natural evils) until we subdued and chained him. and then sauron's evils were dominant.

(is this character analysis or fictional theology? idk.)

i love these characters because they are symbolic of how we conceptualize evil in the world, as well as being stand-ins for a certain character archetype. i dont have to write them just as them being evil. but they are great for writing about difficult subjects because of their symbolic nature.

(and maybe like sauron i too love volcanoes and snow and mushrooms and thus am a bit enchanted with the force of nature that is melkor. i used to study a LOT of catholic theology, and now as an outsider looking in im like, maybe i can play with these myths and tropes. at the same time, the ultimate plan of eru iluvatar is meant to be a mystery.)

[pa1nrema1ns]

Opiate² || Sung Jin-woo (18+ One-shot)

Featuring: Yandere!Priest Sung Jin-woo x Fem!reader

If you want to get your soul to heaven Trust in me now, don't you judge or question You are broken now, but faith can heal you Just do everything I tell you to do

Summary:

“What you feel in your heart, the yearning you have for this man, it’s only to be expected. You are flesh and blood, malleable and weak to temptation. As am I… If you would indulge me, may I ask who it is that you covet so deeply?" “He—he is a man of faith,” you stutter, “someone I should have no business thinking about.” Father Jin-woo’s reply is sharp enough to cut bone: “But you still want him all the same, don’t you? This forbidden fruit of yours?”

♱ Word count: 5.8k

♱ A/N: It's finally here! My first, full-fledged smut fic, and I am beyond excited to share it with you all! Once again, I want to thank the incredible @ekkurea. She completely knocked it out of the park with her drop-dead gorgeous rendition of Father Jin-woo. She is an amazing artist and an absolute joy to work with. I highly recommend visiting her gallery and commissioning her.

I also want to thank my lovely friend and beta-reader @heyimkana for brainstorming ideas and offering encouragement during the writing process of this piece. Her help and insight has been invaluable, and I am extremely grateful for her support.

♱ Content warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, piv, body worship (giving and receiving), canon compliant AU (hunters and gates exist; Jin-woo is a retired hunter), afab!reader, dirty talk, religious themes and imagery, blasphemy, sacrilege, manipulation, possessiveness, voyeurism, gratuitous praise, pet names, softdom!Jin-woo.

♱ Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @anitalenia

♱ Header artwork by: @ekkurea exclusively for this fic. Please do not repost, edit, or use for your own fics, headcanons, or drabbles.

Your heart hammers inside your chest as you gaze at the confessional booth. A cursory glance at your surroundings reveals no other churchgoers inside the cathedral. Apart from a lone priest hidden behind the lattice, you were the only sign of life in this house of God.

An eerie silence floods the communal hall, worsening your anxiety. You release a shaky breath and wring your fists in consternation, too nervous to move from your spot in the pews.

Given your circumstances, you’re unsure if you should consider the lack of an audience a blessing or a curse. The foreboding atmosphere inside the church makes the latter seem more fitting, and for the first time since joining the parish, you find yourself feeling unwelcome and isolated here.

As if you were an outcast.

You clench your teeth at the thought.

In all your years of being a loyal parishioner, you hadn’t once sought penance. And up until this point, you didn’t have a reason to. You were a highly pious individual, regularly attending Mass, participating in the holy sacraments, and devoting all your free time to liturgical services. Of course, you weren’t always so virtuous. You had your vices, as all people do, but you remained steadfast on the path of righteousness. You had done everything in your power to live a life free from sin.

But the devil never sleeps, and evil lurks in the hearts of men.

Despite your best efforts, you were seduced into partaking of the forbidden fruit, and from the tree of knowledge, you ate. Now a blight has been cast on you, an affliction so devastating in its destructiveness that it left you teetering on the cusp of madness. Sin crept its way into your life, and it was slowly rotting you from the inside out.

Wickedness and temptation manifest in many ways depending on the person. For some, it’s hedonistic pleasures like promiscuity, excessive drinking, or gambling. For others, it’s immoral acts such as violence, theft, or murder.

For you, sin came in the form of a man.

Father Jin-woo stood out among the rest of the clergy. Young, roguishly handsome, and captivating in all measures, he attracted a considerable amount of attention from the parish. What’s more, the enigmatic priest proved to be a highly capable shepherd to his flock. In fact, he was held in such high regard within the church that many of Jin-woo’s followers attended his sermons just to catch a glimpse of him. The man was simply mesmerizing, both in aura and appearance.

Rumors abound about him being a former hunter, and if word of mouth is to be believed, he had been a damn incredible one. Why Jin-woo chose to abandon glory and riches beyond all reckoning for a humble life of the cloth, you did not know. To your fellow parishioners, it was a noble and benevolent decision.

But his aloof demeanor gave you pause. The man seemed to keep everyone at arm’s length, and then there were his eyes, so unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You noticed right away that Jin-woo always had a coldness to his eyes, even while proclaiming the word of God. It was a truly menacing stare, one that burned white hot with the promise of brimstone and hellfire.

Yet it wasn’t fear or adoration that struck your heart when you first witnessed this side of him.

It was pure and unbridled lust. An animalistic desire to be so thoroughly ruined, so thoroughly fucked by Jin-woo that not even the deepest dregs of Hell would have you.

You remember the rush of heat curling low and heavy in your stomach as you watched him give Mass the other day. You swiped your tongue across your lips as you imagined mouthing at the smooth expanse of his neck. You’d leave little love marks on the sensitive skin just above his clerical collar, making it impossible for him to hide.

When the priest raised his arms in supplication, his muscles pulled taut against the sleeves of his cassock, causing your breath to catch in your throat. That single action triggered a domino effect on you. Your panties began to dampen, your heart rate skyrocketed, and your clit pulsed for attention. You pressed your thighs together, attempting to quell the ache between them, but the small amount of friction it produced just wasn’t enough; you needed more. You needed Jin-woo’s fingers to be knuckle-deep inside your tight, wet cunt.

You bit back a moan and tried to ignore your arousal, hoping it would just go away on its own. But it was no use; every aspect of the priest bewitched you in that moment. His calm composure, the hard ridges of his body, and his quiet self-assurance all spoke of virility.

Ultimately, it was his piercing gaze that sealed your fall from grace. During the Penitential Act, you locked eyes with Jin-woo. There was such a smoldering, sexual intensity in the way he looked at you that it bordered on being indecent. You trembled under his stare, and for a fraction of a second, you saw the hint of a smirk upon his lips before he turned his focus elsewhere.

After that, your fantasies ran wild and unimpeded, your mind full to bursting with pornographic prose. You thought of Jin-woo pinning your knees to your chest as he pounded into your pussy until it molded to the shape of him. He’d bend you to his will, forcing every ounce of pleasure out of your pliant body while your ankles dangled helplessly from his broad shoulders like earrings.

Next, you fantasized about him eating you out like a starved beast as you writhed and moaned like a whore on the altar. The other clergymen would watch on in envy as they stroked their plump and leaking cocks, wishing they could also get a taste of your dripping pussy.

You idly wondered if Jin-woo would make you cum with slow, purposeful licks or if he would ruthlessly tongue fuck you, sucking and flicking at your sensitive little clit until you were a wailing mess.

Eventually these lust-fueled thoughts became too much to bear; slick coated your thighs, and the fire in your loins was blazing into an all-out inferno. You ended up sneaking out of Mass midway through the scripture readings to slake your thirst.

You took refuge in an unoccupied sacristy and slid your soaked panties to the side. Your cunt was positively throbbing with want; it was frightening just how aroused you were. But fear wasn’t about to stop you from making yourself cum.

You circled your clit and slowly pumped two fingers in and out of your sopping core, curling the digits against a spot that caused you to let out a small whimper as you sought more stimulation. The priest’s face was on your mind and his name on your lips when you came with a hushed moan.

The entire time, you were oblivious to the silent specter watching you from the shadows.

When you returned, there was something decidedly wrong with Jin-woo. His forehead was dotted with sweat, he had a white-knuckled hold on the podium, and he’d bitten his lip so hard blood ran down his chin. A few of the parishioners voiced their concerns, worried he might’ve taken ill, but he waved them off, wiping his mouth and continuing his oration as if nothing had happened.

You felt the priest’s eyes boring into you as you took your seat, and you ended up avoiding his gaze for the rest of the sermon.

At that time, an irrational part of you feared that Jin-woo knew what you did in the sacristy. But he couldn't have heard you through the thick walls of the cathedral… could he? No, there was no way. He was probably just pissed at you for disrupting his service; you’d have to apologize the next time you saw him.

That night, you prayed to the Almighty for forgiveness, but no amount of Hail Marys would be enough to rid you of the guilt and shame you felt. You needed absolution, an act of mercy that only an ordained priest could grant you.

You don’t know whether to cry or laugh at the irony of it all. Fate had a really fucked-up sense of humor, didn’t it?

And this brought you to where you are now, a penitent seeking salvation.

After several minutes of self-reflection, you strengthen your resolve and finally stand up from the pews; it was now or never. You approach the booth and make the sign of the cross prior to entering.

You cross yourself once more as you kneel behind the screen. All is silent, save for the steady breathing of the unseen priest. You swallow nervously before greeting him, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.”

A deep and familiar voice responds wholeheartedly to your call.

“Peace be upon you and take heart. You show much bravery by coming here today. To seek penance is to acknowledge our own faults and misgivings. It is a vulnerable act, but the Lord is merciful and just. You’ve nothing to fear in his presence. Now, please tell me, what have you come to confess?”

Just your luck; it was Jin-woo. Fate definitely had it out for you.

You release a breath you’re not even aware you’ve been holding and begin to speak your truth.

“Father, for the last few months I’ve been overcome by sexual desire for… an acquaintance of mine. At first, I thought it was an innocent crush, but as time passes, I find myself becoming more and more obsessed with him… to the point where it scares me.”

You can feel your face growing hot as you speak; it makes you feel even smaller and more exposed in front of the priest. You keep your head firmly bowed, refusing to face him.

“I see, so these lustful thoughts and feelings are what trouble you?” he inquires, tone impartial.

“Yes, Father,” you answer sullenly.

“God sends us many in the way of trials and tribulations, both to test our faith and to build character. It is unfortunate that affliction often precedes deliverance, but only in suffering can we truly blossom and grow stronger.”

After a short pause, he continues, his voice dulcet now. “What you feel in your heart, the yearning you have for this man, it’s only to be expected. You are flesh and blood, malleable and weak to temptation. As am I… If you would indulge me, may I ask who it is that you covet so deeply?"

“He—he is a man of faith,” you stutter, “someone I should have no business thinking about.”

Jin-woo’s reply is sharp enough to cut bone: “But you still want him all the same, don’t you? This forbidden fruit of yours?”

You raise your head and direct your gaze at the screen, diffident. He continues, “Two days ago, I saw you departing from Mass quite suddenly. I grew concerned, of course; you’re always so engaged when it comes to receiving the message of God, so I found your actions to be highly out of character… Now, after listening to your plight, I can’t help but wonder if that unusual behavior has anything to do with what we’re discussing right now.”

‘Wait, what!?’ You think, internally panicking. ‘Did he know? Did Jin-woo actually know—’

“I recall one of the deacons pulling me to the side after service that day. He was blushing furiously; when I asked him what was wrong, he mentioned hearing a noise that sounded like a woman’s moans and whimpers coming from our sacristy. Strange, isn’t it?”

“…” Words fail you. From behind the lattice, the priest’s eyes shift from cobalt blue to a sinister shade of amethyst as he studies your face.

There’s an audible smirk in his voice when he next asks, “Does any of this ring a bell for you? And do be honest with me when you answer this time. You’ll find that I have a low tolerance for liars, sweet girl.”

Your heart plummets into the pit of your stomach. So, he knew. He fucking knew this whole time, and he played you like a fiddle. The writing was on the wall, and there was no use in playing coy with a man who saw straight through your bullshit.

“Yes… it does,” you answer in barely above a faltering whisper, “I was in that room when I should’ve been at Mass, and I—I was touching… myself.”

There’s only silence on the other side of the lattice. The lack of a response makes you feel an even deeper sense of embarrassment.

You frantically apologize to Jin-woo, hoping to make amends. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Father! The sins I’ve committed behind these sacred walls are unforgivable, but I just couldn’t take it anymore! The person—the man I’ve been lusting over—is you!”

The priest inhales sharply, his first notable reaction since this debacle began.

“I lost control of myself as I watched you during your sermon; I couldn’t stop thinking about having your hands all over me!” you babble, “I left that day because I was so turned on by you; it was driving me insane! I hid in the sacristy and masturbated just so the hunger would go away…and I imagined some truly terrible things about you as I touched myself.”

When Jin-woo graces you with a response, his voice is husky, with an air of desperation in it. “Tell me what it is you thought of; reveal to me your darkest and most depraved impulses. And do not hold back. I won’t be able to cleanse your soul of sin unless I know the true depths of your debauchery.”

Your eyes widen, not so much from his request but from the wanton neediness in his voice. It awakens something inside you, something primal that rids you of all shame and inhibition.

“I’ve daydreamt of you fucking me in front of the clergy with my legs spread wide open on the altar.” you say, emboldened now, “I fantasized about sucking your cock and forcing so much pleasure on you that you forsake God, and I become the new deity you worship. I want to corrupt you in the same way the devil has corrupted me. There’s a sickness inside me, Father, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

You hear the faint rustling of clothes and a belt clinking. A moment later, a throaty groan escapes the priest, and the sound shoots straight to your core. You slip a hand beneath the sundress you’re wearing and run a finger along your slit, already wet with slick.

You didn’t care if he saw you this time. There was nothing left for you to hide.

“Meet me outside of the booth. Now.” Jin-woo abruptly demands, his terse tone brooking no argument. You heed his words without question, standing on coltish legs and walking with a slight tremor as you exit the confessional.

Jin-woo is in full view before you now, a licentious shell of his former self. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead haphazardly, sweat ran in rivulets down his face, and his fly was undone, exposing his hard and drooling cock.

You shamelessly drink him in. His cock was thick, thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, with prominent veins and a slight curve towards the tip that looked like it would hit you just right. His cockhead was also flushed a vibrant shade of red, and pearls of precum glistened at the glans. You wet your lips in anticipation, eager to get a taste of him. Jin-woo notices your ogling and gives himself a languid pump, once then twice, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Come to me,” he purrs, “Come so that I may bestow your penance.”

You take a step, but then he stops you with a second command.

“No, angel; I need you on your hands and knees. I want you to crawl to me like the lost little lamb that you are. Crawl for me, crawl for my cock.”

You sink to your knees and lower your hands to the ground, making sure to give the priest an ample view of your cleavage as you slink towards him on all fours. His expression is rhapsodic as he watches you, like a man who’s finally found purpose in his life.

“Look at you, look at how fucking gorgeous you are on your hands and knees. Such an obedient girl for me,” he coos at you with honeyed praise, cracks starting to show in his stoic façade.

Once you’re at his feet, Jin-woo quickly resumes his authoritative tone. “Give me your chin,” he orders. You obey, tilting your head back, and he grabs you firmly by the jaw, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes emit a luminous glow, reminding you of his status as an S-rank hunter. You’d all but forgotten this through the haze of your lust-addled mind, but you weren’t afraid of the priest’s change in attitude. In fact, you find his display of power invigorating.

He slowly caresses your cheek with his thumb and gravely states, “The devil has sunk his fangs into you, sweet girl, and he tempts you just as he tempts me, through our baser instincts. Your soul is tainted, but it’s not beyond salvation by my hands. Only by succumbing to your carnal desire for me can you achieve absolution. Knowing this, are you fully prepared to accept the penance you’ve earned?”

You try to nod your head, but he tightens his hold on you—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know who’s in charge.

“Use your words, angel.”

“Yes, Father.”

A rakish smile spreads across his face, and he presses a chaste kiss to your head. “Good girl. Now, take my cock into that pretty little mouth of yours. Earlier you said that you would make me forsake God for pleasure. That was the devil speaking through you, no doubt. Let’s test this twisted conviction of his, shall we?”

He releases you and rises to his full height, glancing down expectantly. You immediately get to work, eager to satisfy him. You tug at the waistband of Jin-woo’s trousers, and he tilts his narrow hips to assist you. Once the pants are halfway down his thighs, you’re able to fully take him in. Not only was his dick intimidating in girth, but it was also long and even prettier up close.

There’s a potent headiness in the air that surrounds him, a distinctly masculine scent that you can’t help but crave more of. Unable to resist, you lean forward, bracing yourself against one of Jin-woo’s legs, and press your nose against the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

When he sees you smelling him, the priest lets out a soft chuckle that breaks into a moan when you begin to play with his balls. You gently fondle them, appreciating the weight and feel in your hand. With your other hand, you stroke his shaft, alternating between twisting and up-and-down motions. Jin-woo lets out a pleased grunt at your ministrations and rasps, “Hah…ahh… yeah, just like that, just like—oh!—oh, fuck!” The priest hisses as his cock is suddenly engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth.

You swallow around him, swirling your tongue on the underside of his shaft before pulling back to kitten-lick at his leaking cockhead. He tastes like salt and skin, and you dip your tongue into his slit to savor more of him. Once you’ve had your fill of his pre, you hollow your cheeks and sink your mouth further down his length. Jin-woo tosses his head back, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy.

“Good girl—fuuuck!”

At this stage, your neglected pussy was wet and positively aching with need. Without stopping your ministrations, you sneak your other hand between the juncture of your thighs and slide a finger into your core. There’s absolutely no resistance, allowing you to effortlessly slip two more fingers in, up to the knuckle. This finally gives you the sense of fullness you’ve been longing for. Once satisfied with the stretch, you begin to massage your inner walls and grind your clit against the heel of your palm.

Your actions cause you to whine and moan around Jin-woo’s cock. He hums lowly, equal parts amused and aroused by your neediness.

“Mmm…are you touching that greedy cunt again? Heh, how cute... no—no, don't stop touching yourself, angel. I want you to get off too. I want you to make yourself cum with my cock in your throat and your fingers thrusting into that perfect pussy.” Praise intermingled with filth spews from his lips as he becomes lost in the feeling of your mouth. The priest promptly tightens his hold on your head and starts to buck his hips, face-fucking you at a brutal tempo.

The sudden intrusion causes your eyes to well, and you gag as you feel him hitting the back of your throat. You focus on breathing through your nose and attempt to relax your throat, a monumental task given how girthy and long the priest's dick was. Jin-woo takes note of your discomfort and stills his hips. You glance up at him through tears, and there's a softness in his features you'd never seen before. Unprompted, he loosens his hold on your head and cards his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands from your face. Next, he rubs the pads of his thumbs over your dampened cheeks. You melt into his touch and nuzzle against his hand.

After remaining like this for a few precious moments, Jin-woo begins to thrust again, this time at a much slower and less punishing pace. You allow him to guide your head down his shaft while you pump your fingers into your wet heat. A coil was sprung tight in your abdomen, and each swipe at your clit and scrape against your inner walls sends a thrum of pleasure throughout your body. The shockwaves to your impending orgasm were already set in stone; all you needed was that final push to send you toppling over the edge—

Without warning, you feel the presence of a large palm cupping your mons. It glides along your panties, tracing your pussy lips through the thin material. Before you can process what's happening, your underwear is tugged to the side and your fingers are pried from your cunt by an invisible force. Something much bigger replaces the digits. It fills you to the brim in one go, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your thighs shake when the appendage starts to undulate against your plush walls. Every twist and turn causes you to inhale sharply. The phantom's touch wanders aimlessly, with no set destination. Or so it seems, until you feel an intense burst of pressure on your sweetest spot.

You squeal at the sensation and lurch backward, a string of saliva lewdly trailing from your lips as you part from Jin-woo’s cock. You thrash wildly, trying with all your might to escape. It was just too much, too soon. But the priest effortlessly maintains his hold on you, and you can only watch in horror when several more tendrils of mana manifest from his hands.

The magic slithers across his forearms, down the floor, and between your thighs before disappearing into your exposed cunt. Using Ruler’s Hand, Jin-woo plays with the wetness that dances along your puffy folds. He then lifts the hood of your clit to lightly graze at the bud beneath it before pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves. That was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge. Waves of white-hot pleasure rip through you so violently, your vision fades in and out. All the while, the telekinetic appendage steadily fucks you through it, reaching depths you'd never imagined.

Your body clenches, then slackens, in the aftershock of your orgasm. There’s buzzing in your ears, a white noise that temporarily deafens you. But through the static, you’re able to hear the faint sound of someone screaming. It doesn’t register as your own voice at first; it was raw, hoarse, and unrecognizable. Like the pale imitation of a changeling.

Time slows and distorts, and you feel yourself drifting, sinking further and further away from a state of consciousness.

But Jin-woo manages to reel you in, away from the darkness.

“—come back to me, angel. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Choked moans and broken syllables are all you can muster in your blissed-out state, “Hnng—ahhh! Fa—Father! I… ha…ahn!”

“Shhh, it's alright." Jin-woo murmurs softly while stroking your cheek with his knuckles. He wraps his other hand around his pulsating cock and repeatedly runs his fist from the base to the tip, using a mixture of his own pre-cum and your drool as a lubricant. Above Jin-woo lay a large stained-glass mural of Saint Mary Magdalene. He's cast in iridescent rays of light as the setting sun illuminates the window, making him appear transcendent. The sight of him takes your breath away.

So enraptured were you with Jin-woo's beauty that you don't even realize he's lowered his hand from your face to your tits. He kneads at the supple flesh, admiring your softness. You mewl and arch into his touch, surrendering yourself to him. The priest then dips his hand into the décolletage of your dress and yanks it down, exposing your luscious breasts and the hardened peak of your nipples. Your core throbs at the strangled moan he lets out. “Oh fuck, you’re so soft, so warm,” he whispers shakily as he gropes at the plump mounds, “And the way the sun lights your skin, the enticing curves of your body, the quickening of your pulse as I take you in my hand… how? Just how can you be real? I’ve never wanted something—someone—so badly in my life.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the movements of Ruler’s Hand came to a complete halt. In an instant, all the telekinetic energy that surrounds your partially clad form dissipates. You’re not even spared the chance to gather your bearings before Jin-woo unceremoniously hauls you to your feet and presses his muscular frame to yours. He brings his face close, with only the narrowest of margins separating your lips from his. You can feel his breath in yours, the beating of vitality in his heart, and the rigid planes of clothed muscle against your bare breasts. You yearn for him to close the gap, to finally submit to the searing passion that consumed both of you.

Several agonizing seconds pass before Jin-woo pleads—begs, as the last of his restraint crumbles. “Please, please, let me have you—!” Unable to control himself, the priest captures your lips in a hungered kiss. You moan into his mouth and gasp when he slips his tongue inside to gently brush against your own. A low growl emits from the priest’s throat, and all semblance of rationality is lost.

Jin-woo delves his tongue further, deepening the kiss. You readily yield, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. Jin-woo grasps you by the throat possessively and allows his other hand to drift freely over your figure. He caresses the swell of your breasts with his calloused fingers, treading slowly over your pert nipples and leaving goosebumps in his wake. Next, he smooths his palm down your sternum and along your abdomen until he reaches the curve of your hip. The priest sinks his fingers into the pliable flesh, and with his lips never once leaving yours, he starts to walk you backward.

Jin-woo leads, and you follow; your submission to him nearly second nature by now. After a few stumbling steps, your back hits something hard, and the strange sensation causes you to break the kiss. Undeterred, the priest slides his hand from the front of your neck to your nape, and with the other hand he has on your hip, he uses his strength to hoist you onto a table—no—an altar. Jin-woo then lowers your upper body onto the platform, slots himself between your legs, and pulls the hem of your sundress up until the fabric bunches at your waist.

The breathless “oh fuck,” he mumbles at the sight of your bare cunt, has you clenching around thin air. The priest pants, and a sheen of sweat coats him as he pins you to the altar with his larger frame. He gazes at you with eyes glazed over before grabbing at his cock and running the tip of it along your slit. You bleat pathetically, and Jin-woo presses a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth to coddle you. He then slides his lips over yours, kissing you in earnest. When he parts, the priest murmurs imploringly, “I wanted to take my time with you, angel, really, I did. But if I go for another second without fucking you, I fear I might go insane. Tell me, are you sure you want this? This is your last chance to back out. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop once I’m inside you.”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes! Oh god, yes—”

He cuts you off midsentence, sheathing himself entirely in your heat. Your eyes well up as he splits you apart on his cock. No matter how wet you were, nothing could’ve prepared you for the sheer breadth of Jin-woo’s dick. He stretched you far past your limits, filling you so completely that you swore you could feel him at the back of your throat.

Your thighs tremble and your head lulls to the side, baring your neck to him. The priest licks a fat stripe from your collar bone to the apple of your check, lapping up your salty tears. Your walls flutter and tighten at his actions, and he groans approvingly, pushing his cock in even deeper. Your thighs tremble and your face scrunches at the sting. Jin-woo hadn’t even moved yet, and you were already falling to pieces underneath him. You clutch onto his shoulders for purchase, digging your nails into the well-defined muscles. Jin-woo grunts and lowers his face into the crook of your neck to nose against it. You shudder when you feel his breath tickling your ear.

“You feel fucking divine, angel. So warm, wet, and inviting… I think I’ll keep you for myself once I’m done. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Oh—shit! Did you just clench? Sweet girl, if you keep doing that, then I really won’t hold back.” The priest emphasizes his warning with a nip to your throat, drawing a cry of surprise from you.

Using this momentary pain as a distraction, Jin-woo pulls out of you until only the tip remains and then rams his hips forward, spearing you on his dick. You babble and wail incoherently as he batters your bruised walls. True to his word, the priest was holding nothing back from you. He pistons his hips in and out at an unrelenting tempo and grinds his pelvis on your clit with every thrust he makes. Gradually, the soreness in your cunt gives way to pleasure. You wrap your legs around Jin-woo’s waist and dig your heels into the small of his back, anchoring him to you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and cries of ecstasy permeate the room. Jin-woo thrusts desperately into you, his nostrils flaring and the veins in his forearms bulging from exertion. If the pulsing of his cock inside you was anything to go by, then he was close. Dangerously so. You weren’t far behind either; the priest was hitting all your spots, and the constant stimulation on your clit was maddening.

Jin-woo catches you totally unawares when he presses his forehead to yours. He peers into your eyes, looking intently into the depths, and then he speaks a secret meant only for you. “Allow me to make a confession of my own. There was no deacon wandering by the sacristy that day. It was me; I was the one who saw you in the throes of passion. And when I heard you moan my name—my actual name and not the title that binds me to the church—it took everything in me not to mount you right then and there! You have no idea what you do to me, sweet girl.”

“It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault. I’m the one to blame, Angel, not you.” Jin-woo quickly silences the unspoken apology burning at the tip of your tongue. He could sense it coming from the hurt look in your eyes.

“As a hunter, I’ve dirtied my hands, stolen countless lives, and conquered lands unknown to man or God, all in the pursuit of power. I am tainted, bathed in sin. A disgrace to our lord and undeserving of someone as pure and as beautiful as you. But I don’t care what hell awaits me. All that matters is that you’re mine now. Mine—mine—only mine!” He snarls at the end, punctuating every word with a snap of his hips. Your breasts bounce, your thighs quiver, and your mouth forms a small ‘o’ under the influence of his ministrations. To Jin-woo, you were the spitting image of a fallen angel. You were also his undoing, as his thrusts became sloppy and more erratic. His hips stutter then cease all movement as he spills his seed inside you, cumming with a deep and guttural groan. You follow suit shortly thereafter, tossing your head back and screaming the priest’s name as you climax.

Jin-woo slumps forward, dipping his face into the valley of your breasts. You reach down to idly stroke at the ebony tresses. The two of you bask in each other’s presence as the afterglow washes over. You were boneless and utterly spent, but the exhaustion was well earned. Sex had never left you feeling so sated or fulfilled before. It was incredible… and tiring.

Your lids start to grow heavy, the promise of sleep too tempting to ignore. As your eyes flutter shut, you feel a strong pair of arms coiling around your waist and lifting you into a sitting position. Your body then becomes weightless, and footsteps echo in the background. Jin-woo must’ve been carrying you. ‘Such a kind man,’ you think.

When your breath evens out and you at last fall asleep, the priest pecks your forehead and peers up at the mural of Jesus Christ at the entrance of the cathedral. Jin-woo addresses the Son of God with a plea on your behalf.

“Forgive her, for she knows not what she does.”

[phoenixrisingastro]

The Astrology of Soul Contracts: Promises Written in Blood Before You Were Born

Prelude:

You didn’t just arrive here by chance. You didn’t stumble into this life, this pain, this chaos. Before you took your first breath, before your soul entered this body, you made deals—dangerous, binding, irrevocable deals.

You signed these contracts in the dark, with trembling hands, knowing full well what they demanded of you. You promised to suffer, to love, to lose, to rise. You promised to break yourself open, to surrender to forces stronger than you, and to become something greater than you could ever imagine.

But not all contracts are fair. Some are curses disguised as blessings, prisons you walk into willingly. Others are karmic debts, payments for sins you can’t remember but feel the weight of every single day.

The truth is, you can’t escape them. You’ll try. You’ll run. You’ll scream into the void, begging for mercy. But these contracts? They will haunt you, own you, control you—until you finally face them.

And now, they’ve led you here. To this post. To me...

The Contracts You Signed

The North Node: The Chains of Destiny

Your North Node is a binding agreement with your future. You promised to walk this path, no matter how terrifying it feels, no matter how much it demands from you.

The North Node doesn’t care about your comfort. It will drag you, kicking and screaming, into situations that force you to grow. It will strip you of everything you thought you wanted, everything you thought you were, until there’s nothing left but the raw, unrelenting truth of who you’re meant to become.

“You can’t run from me,” it whispers. “You will become what you were meant to be—even if I have to destroy you first.”

The South Node: The Shackles of Your Past Lives

Your South Node holds the weight of every life you’ve lived before this one. It’s where you feel most at home, most powerful, but also most trapped.

The South Node is a siren’s call, luring you back into patterns that feel safe but keep you stagnant. It’s the toxic lover you can’t quit, the dreams you chase even though they’re long dead, the habits that feel good but leave you hollow.

“Stay with me,” it pleads. “You don’t need to grow. You don’t need to change. Just stay.”

But staying means surrendering to a life that will never fulfill you..

Chiron: The Wound That Will Never Heal

Chiron is the scar your soul carries from lifetime to lifetime. It’s the place where you bleed, where you ache, where you crumble under the weight of your own humanity.

You agreed to this pain. You promised to carry it, to learn from it, to use it to help others. But Chiron doesn’t heal—it transforms. It breaks you apart and builds you back up, again and again, until you’re something entirely new.

“This will hurt,” Chiron says. “It will always hurt. But you will rise because of it.”

Saturn: The Debt Collector

Saturn is the enforcer of your contracts. It holds the ledger, the balance sheet of every karmic debt you owe. Saturn doesn’t care about fairness—it cares about balance. If you’ve taken too much, you’ll pay. If you’ve given too little, you’ll pay.

Wherever Saturn is in your chart, it demands discipline, sacrifice, and relentless effort. It will break you down to nothing, just to see if you’ll build yourself back up. And if you don’t? Saturn will drag you through hell until you do.

“You will pay what you owe,” Saturn says. “And you will be better for it.”

The 12th House: The Prison You Can’t Escape

The 12th house is where your soul goes to die. It’s the house of secrets, suffering, and self-undoing. It holds the enemies you don’t see coming, the fears you can’t name, the parts of yourself you can’t admit exist.

The 12th house is where you lose control. It’s where you surrender to forces greater than yourself, where you let go of everything you thought you were.

“Come closer,” it beckons. “Step into the shadows. Let me show you who you really are.”

The Truth You Can’t Ignore

These contracts aren’t fair. They aren’t kind. They were never meant to be.

You agreed to lose people you couldn’t live without. You agreed to carry wounds that would never heal. You agreed to face fears that would paralyze anyone else.

But you also agreed to rise. To evolve. To become something stronger, something untouchable, something unstoppable.

You didn’t come here to be ordinary. You came here to be extraordinary.

You feel it, don’t you? The pull, the ache, the whisper in your mind that says, “This is what I’ve been searching for.” You weren’t meant to stop reading. You weren’t meant to walk away. You were meant to find this post, to find me. This isn’t an accident—it’s destiny

You’ve seen the truth. Now what will you do with it?

You can keep running, keep hiding,

keep pretending that you’re not bound by these contracts.

Or you can face them..

You can uncover what’s written in your chart,

what you promised yourself, what you were destined to become..

DM me for a reading when you’re ready to stop running.

The stars are waiting. So am I...

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[deedeeznoofs]

Not the Strongest Anymore 

➺ Characters: Satoru Gojo, GN!Reader 

➺ Word Count: 3.1k

➺ Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst 

➺ Content: Reverse Comfort, Established Relationship, Non Sorcerer!Reader, Injured!Gojo, Mentions of Blood 

➺ A/N: I made this story because Gojo deserves someone to take care of him and give him a million hugs :( 

➺ Synopsis: When the Strongest sorcerer and your lover Satoru Gojo suddenly barges into your shared home bloodied and injured beyond belief, you make it your priority to heal him. However, you get suspicious when you notice him continuously dodging questions related to how he sustained those injuries. 

Water. 

That was the only thing that filled your senses. Whether it was the feeling of the warm water on your hands as you washed the dishes, or the soft plop plop plop as single droplets of rain made their way on the glass pane of your window. Yeah… water, that was what surrounded you on this night.

As you look out the window, you think of nothing but Satoru. Being the strongest sorcerer, your lover often worked early mornings and late nights. This was something he was accustomed to since he was a teenager. By extension, it was something you grew to get used to as well. It wasn’t that you were particularly fond of him being away for an entire day, or sometimes days on end, but it wasn’t like you could say anything. This wasn’t a normal job he could call off for, and you loved him so much that you wanted to stick by him, no matter the possible dangers that entailed. 

Still…you had an odd feeling in your chest. Think of it as intuition from being with Satoru for so long. You had the smallest feeling of something being off, and you felt it in your bones. After finishing up on washing the dishes, you looked out the window for any trace of your partner. “It’s getting pretty late, I wonder what he’s up to��, you thought out loud. Unfortunately, your mind jumps to the worst case scenarios. You thought about monstrous curses and curse users with terrible intentions. Satoru always got the worst of the missions, always being relied on to deal with the most dangerous of work. Your body shivers at all the things he must have seen, what it must be like to be expected to handle the worst sins of society. It was something you wouldn’t have wished upon anyone, let alone the love of your life. 

You shouldn’t be thinking like this. These thoughts would only make things worse, after all. So you shake your head to try and keep the thoughts at bay. “He’s probably fine” you said to yourself, walking away from the window and deciding to head to bed. Sleep… that’s what you should do right now. Then once you’re awake he’ll be by your side, just like normal. He’s perfectly fine.

Almost as if on cue, the man of the hour comes in, loudly barging in through the door. 

“Satoru!” you yelled out, before gasping at the sight. 

Before you was Satoru on the floor, bloodied and wet. He had wounds of differing severity all over his body… and the blood. Oh, the blood. There was so much of it, combining with the water to make a small puddle underneath Satoru’s pained body. You were used to Satoru coming home slightly injured sometimes, but this… this was something else. It was a truly terrible sight, so terrible that you froze for half a second, trying to process what you were seeing. 

Cough. Cough. The sound of Satoru coughing up blood before passing out in front of you snapped you out of your thoughts. You had to take care of him, and you had to do it fast. 

When Satoru opens his eyes, he finds himself lying down in your shared bedroom. He groans in agony and discomfort, feeling pain in seemingly every cell of his body. He has no knowledge on how he got home, other than hazy memories of trying to get to you in the rain, which based on context clues, he assumes he was successful. He turns his head to look for you, which causes his body to give a jolting rush of pain at his attempts to move. 

“Don’t move”, your voice hits his ears, and he finally looks at you, sighing in relief as he sees your face. You’re here… thank God. In excitement, he sits up, ignoring the pain that his body is in. “Satoru…” you say in a warning tone, and he apologizes, though he’s already sat up. You’re covered in blood, his blood, but you don’t seem to have much of a reaction, only focused on his wellbeing. 

He sees the clock and notices that it’s nearly 4:00 AM. He was probably knocked out for at least a few hours. Realizing that you took care of him this late into the night fills his heart with glee. He looked down at his body and noticed the bandages all over himself. You attempt to bandage him up some more, getting to the spots that you couldn’t reach while he was lying down, but Satoru stops you. 

“Don’t do that”, he says with a smile, his voice laced with honey. His hand lightly grabs your arm to stop you, before he lets go. “Watch this,” he says like he’s a frat guy who learned a new party trick. His hand moves to one of the wounds on his body, and he attempts to use Reverse Cursed Technique on the injury. You giggle and patiently watch as he works on his wound. 

“Voila!” he dramatically shouts out as his hand moves away from his wound. What he didn’t expect though, was for the wound to stay the same. “Uhhh…” he awkwardly blinks at the painful injury, believing if he looked at it long enough, he could somehow make the wound to heal out of sheer will. 

“You don’t have enough cursed energy, my love…” you say to him. Even though you weren’t a sorcerer, you certainly knew enough to understand that any chance of Satoru healing himself at the state he was in is something out of wishes and dreams. You lovingly ruffle his white hair and go “Don’t push yourself, okay? It’s not anything like Reverse Cursed Technique, but I think I’m pretty good at healing the regular way” you laugh and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

Satoru accepts the kiss but still grimaces at the fact that he couldn’t heal himself. “I called Shoko but she’s away for a while, so this will have to do until you get your Cursed Energy back” you say while still rubbing his head, tangling his hair in your hands. Satoru nods. He was okay with that, more than okay, actually. He would rather have you heal him rather than Shoko or another doctor anyway.

“What happened out there, anyways?” you ask nonchalantly. Satoru just gives you a goofy smile and says “You know, I have no idea!”. He’s lying, you knew him long enough to know that. Plus, he was a terrible liar. You ignore it though, that could be dealt with another time. For now, your biggest priority was taking care of his wounds. Now understanding that he couldn’t use RCT, he allowed you to clean and patch up his wounds. Despite the agonizing pain he was in, he savored every moment of your touch, feeling warm inside at the prospect of you taking care of him. He usually dreaded being healed by other people, but this felt different. This felt… intimate, like a moment only you two shared together. 

“There you go!” you say with a smile as you finish patching him up, proud of the work you did to help bring him less pain. “Now…” you say, “Are you hungry? I can make you some food”. 

“Nah, I’m okay,” Satoru lied. He doesn’t remember when the last time he ate was, and the injuries weren’t helping. However… he didn’t want you to leave his side, so he opted to just deal with it, it’ll probably be fine, he thought.

His body had other plans though, and you hear the soft grumble of his stomach. You give him a stern look, and he scratches the back of his head, knowing he got caught. You give him one last look before turning away, “I’ll go make some soup”. 

“Noooo…” he whines, grabbing your arm “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just go to bed”. 

“Satoru…” you give him another warning call, before moving closer to him, cupping his face. You give him a kiss on the lips, still careful to not worsen any of his wounds. As you pull away, you touch your forehead to his, and tell him “It’ll be no more than ten minutes, okay?”. He knows he’s not getting through to you, so he nods with a pout on his lips, and leaves you with one last kiss before seeing you off. So cute! You thought, but you knew better than to tease him while he was already down.

“I’ll leave the door open so call if you need anything” is the last thing you say as you walk away.

You’re back in no time, just as you promised. This time, with some hot soup in your hands. He tries to take matters into his own hands and feed himself, but you lightly smack his hand away, insisting that you feed him. “You’ll spill soup all over yourself” you tell him, as you bring the hot liquid to his mouth. He complies and quickly finishes his meal. As he feels his hunger slowly subsiding, he feels you slowly bring his head down to his pillow and feels you make your way next to him on the other side of the bed. 

Next to him, you slowly caress his face in a way that only communicates one thing: I was so scared. You didn’t want to say it out loud to not bother him even more, and he didn’t need to hear you say it to understand. So… you both simply lied together, slowly drifting off to sleep as the pressures of the terrifying world around you slowly disappeared from the small little bubble you two built together. 

When Satoru wakes up the next day, the first thing he notices is the fact that you’re not by his side. The moment he notices this, he quickly sits up from his sleeping position and his eyes dart from place to look for you. He doesn’t see you, but he can sense the faintest smell of pancakes coming from outside the bedroom. Like a child on Christmas Day, he excitedly gets up from the bed toward the direction of the pancakes. He nearly falls over a few times due to the stinging pain on his ankles, but he is not deterred, and he makes his way to where you are in the kitchen. 

The sight before him was gorgeous. You… in his shirt, flipping some buttermilk pancakes over the stove. It was a dream come true for him. When you notice him out of bed, you begin to freak out a little bit. “Satoru! You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed by yourself!” you chastise, to which Satoru simply shrugs. You don’t completely blame him though, the smell of anything sweet could lure Satoru into a volcano if he deemed it enticing enough. So you simply tell him to sit down and rest at the table and that you are almost done cooking. Satoru excitedly complied, happily listening to your command and waiting patiently for breakfast. 

He had a warm feeling in his stomach while he watched you make him breakfast. He didn’t ask for you to do that, but you did. Thinking about it… he didn’t ask for you to do anything. He wasn’t used to being cared for in this way by anyone, and it made him feel all sorts of funny feelings. What was going on? He thought to himself.

He wasn’t given much time to ponder, however, as you placed a large stack of pancakes in front of him. Hesitantly, you also gave him some syrup on the side in a little container. “I know you love your pancakes sweet but don’t put too much my love, it’ll upset your stomach” you tell him, knowing he probably wouldn’t listen. You aren’t sure why you enable his sweets addiction so much, maybe it’s because of how much his eyes glow with happiness every time you let him slide. Yeah… the little glint of glee in his eyes, that’s what you live for, and that’s why you let him get away with any sweets-related mischief. 

The fact that you care so much about something as little as a stomach ache makes Satoru feel all fuzzy inside once again… but as you expected, he didn’t listen. On the contrary, he nearly douses his pancakes in as much syrup as possible, beaming with glee as he takes large bites out of the fluffy buttermilk goodness. 

As you both enjoy your meal, you decide that it’s a good enough time to once again ask Satoru the question that has continued to bug you since last night. “Satoru…” you place your fork down, which causes the man in front of you to look up “Hm?”. 

“What could you have possibly fought last night for you to end up like… like this?” you eye him up and down, pointing out the obvious. Satoru looked better now, sure, but that was more of a commentary on how messed up he was last night than how well he’s doing. If he was a normal person, Satoru would not even be able to move a finger. This wasn’t normal, even for Satoru, and you needed to know what was going on. 

“I really don’t know” Satoru laughs, he’s lying again, what was with this guy? You consider pushing the subject, but eventually you decide to just let it go for now. You can talk to him once he’s more healed. For now, you’re just glad that he’s alive and seemingly alright. 

After breakfast, Satoru once again attempts to use RCT to heal himself, and once again, it does not work. He curses to himself in frustration, “It’s okay Satoru… you’ll just have to take a break like the rest of us. I’m sure the world will be fine without Satoru Gojo for a day” you laugh. He grumbles at the thought, not being used to sitting still for so long, but he accepts defeat and decides that he’d enjoy spending the day with you anyways.

You spend the majority of the day being spooned by Satoru on the couch and hate-watching all the terrible TV shows cable television has to offer. “Man, I can’t believe they even air this stuff still” Satoru laughs at the screen as you turn away to face him. Looking at him up close, you pay closer attention to some of his scars, and notice something odd. Observing the wounds, you notice that some of them appeared to be recurring, as if they were healed using RCT but then cut through again. You feel Satoru’s chest vibrate as he laughs, causing you to snap out of your thoughts, but you keep thinking anyway. Something was really off. 

You have to basically drag Satoru into the bedroom to get him to rest. “But I’m not tireddddd…” he cries out “I don’t care. You can’t watch the TV for too long or it’ll strain your eyes, you know that better than anyone” you tell him as you get him to lie down on the bed. “Plus…” you add on with a smile, “I want to be the big spoon this time” you say as you bring him closer to your body. This causes him to to softly smile and close his eyes as you asked him to, though he doesn’t sleep. 

You keep holding him close, kissing his head and playing with his hair. You also kiss his ears, but that causes him to shiver and he says “Stop! It tickles, hehe”. You don’t stop, of course, knowing he secretly loves it when you mess with him. 

As you caress him through the night, you notice the small frown that begins to appear on his face, as he looks lost in thought. This saddens you a little. You’ve tried your best to be open with him, from the moment the two of you began dating. It took a while for him to take down his walls, and it still remains something he clearly struggled in, not wanting to appear weak. Despite this, you loved him. You loved that he trusted you enough to be this close to him. You loved that he allowed you to take care of him, no matter how hard it was for him. You loved Satoru, and you wanted to communicate that at every moment. 

“You know, I love yo–” 

“It wasn’t just one mission. It was multiple” Satoru suddenly spoke.  

“…What?” You softly asked him, not fully understanding what he meant. 

Satoru turned around to look you in the eyes. There, he explained the story of what happened last night. How he was slowly worn down from each mission he took. It started getting bad when he lost so much cursed energy that he was not able to fully hold up infinity, opening him up for hits from attackers. Despite this, he kept getting called on missions, and he kept going on them. Choosing to ignore any of the injuries he sustained until he was fully pushed to the edge. 

He’s essentially boiled down to a blubbering mess as he attempts to communicate with you, and you’re hardly able to understand him. You feel his warm tears on your chest as he tells the story, and you’re trying your best to keep up with this new information. However, one particular thing he tells you as he holds you close causes your eyes to widen.

“I…I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you to keep worrying about me”. 

The fact that he felt this way broke your heart, and you held him even closer. You tried your best not to hold onto him too tight in order to not cause him too much pain. “Satoru…” you coo, explaining that he shouldn’t ever feel the need to hide anything from you. You kiss his forehead as you wipe his tears, something he fully leans into. 

“Why did you keep going on missions even though you were hurt though?” you ask, trying to be as soft as possible. You didn’t want to make it sound like you were berating him. 

His blue eyes look up at you confused, as if you asked him the stupidest question in the world. He thinks for a moment, trying to find the right words, when he says, “I…I have to. If I stop being the Strongest and going on missions, what will there be left to see?” He looks down at his own palm as he says these words. 

Your heart breaks even more hearing that Satoru feels this way, but he keeps going “You know… sometimes I don’t understand you”. You look at him confused, “You keep looking after me and taking care of me despite me being so weak that I can barely even move. Even when I try to be strong and do things on my own, you stop me. You stop me from being the Strongest… I don’t understand that.” 

When he finishes his sentence, you give him a kiss on the head and hold him even tighter. As you hold him, you tell him, “Well I certainly admire the Strongest, but…” you cup his face, looking directly into his bright blue eyes “…My favorite person will always be Satoru Gojo, because only Satoru can lie on the couch to laugh at bad TV shows with me… only Satoru puts absurd amounts of syrup in his pancakes…” you both laugh, “…and while the Strongest protects the world outside, only Satoru can come home to lie next to me”. You then give him a passionate kiss, hoping to put all your love into the act, something to help him understand the full depths of your love for him.

Pulling away, Satoru leans into your chest once again, and only says “Thank you… I love you too, by the way” he giggles before falling asleep in your arms. 

Satoru still had a long way to go in order to fully bring down his walls in front of you, but this… being able to spend a day with someone he loved so much and for the first time in his life, do absolutely nothing. That was certainly a good start. 

-

A/N: Like Gojo? He’s also mentioned in this fic and this fic! <3 

[sad-girl-poetry]

not me just casually reading Giyuu’s wiki for any more trivia for the modern au fic, and here i see that yet again another of my headcanons (Nezuko being a prolific, talented seamstress) is canon when i thought i had made it up

hittin’ like that 30 on my jersey, man, i’m gifted

[withbeasts]

@freekzout.

" you don't have to stand at the door like that. " andrew tosses him a drink, banking on the fact that he can catch it. " you've been here enough. "

[theastrical]

genshin men and their way of apologising

Genshin men and their ways of apologising.

kaeya, diluc, childe, (alhaitham, zhongli, kaveh on pt.2) x reader (fem!reader diluc)

ps: it’s comfort/hurt, a bit angsty but with fluffy ending!! Also if you guys have triggers with cursing, this content has cursing/verbal scolding implications so please mind that before reading!

Kaeya:

“stop doing this and that..you’ll end up being a burden.” He shuts off the door and locks it. You were just trying to help him, and unfortunately, he doesn’t like it. This happens quiet a lot, where he closed off all part of himself in order to heal himself…that’s okay, at first, but what about you? You’re hurt and he kept you out just like that; is he here to wound your heart just like the other exes who grew apart from you?

And when you start to lose your patience, he can’t do nothing about it, right? He’s just there to hurt-hurt-and make you feel as if you in deserve of such a treatment. You cried, it felt weird to cry over kaeya. He has been sweet, yes, you never doubted once that his act are truly meant for you, but at what certain point did you do to make him immediately switch up? You didn’t know, you never know. He never wanted to communicate, that’s the problem.

“if you don’t want me to help you, that’s fine, just please kaeya…talk to me like i’m a human, not somebody you can use when you’re happy. I also need a set of time to heal.” You say that-an automatic reply set on your brain to confront him even if it’s not face to face. Now door to door-you just scold him and leave.

It took him a huge amount of time to heal. he knows what he has done can’t be undone. Listening to your cries become his worst fear, he can’t just stand in front of your eyes and say sorry, he knows that wouldn’t work. That enough explains how much he hates apologising; because his apologies always ended up with him crushing over the burden of his sins.

That’s why, the next day, in the morning when you woke up. Kaeya is already there beside your bedside. Folding your palm between his. His head on the floor.

“i’ve taken your words and…* he sighs before continuing. ��Apologies don’t really matter if i don’t change my attitudes, so please, if you’re still willing to give me one more chance, can i have the privilege to change, at least, for you?”…he stays quiet for a while. “Lastly, i’m sorry, i know all i did these yesterday and these past few months weren’t tolerable. I understand if you would hate me for this.”..he looks up to you, his eyes are already watery. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He hugs you and that felt so good…

A mark on your neck was left, a few peck it took for him to finally calm down. And he looks at you with a smile, even when his eyes are puffy. “I love you..thank you for still being here.”

Diluc:

Diluc came home quite late, it was unusual and it worries you, after all, since the day you married him. He had never been this late-he always come home with a huge surprise which is food…for obvious reason (he’s wants you to eat instead of cooking him a meal since he knew how exhausting it can be).

you were just about to ring up his phone-and suddenly a slam from the door was heard. You came to the first floor and..there’s diluc! “Diluc!” You grin, as always, you warmly greeted him, because it’s your husband, it’s diluc, what more reason to make you adore him?

You tried to help him get his bag and put off his jacket…but his bag was so heavy…whatever does he put inside his bag? Why is it so h— oh no! The bag suddenly hit your coffee cup and spilled the remaining coffee to the bag…now his bag is tainted with coffee and he-who saw that scene in front of him can’t even hide his raging eyes. Before one word to spit out-he gives off a long sigh-squinting his eyes.

“Why…sigh…it’s always you, you AND YOU who makes the worst mistake OVER AND OVER AGAIN! In the WORST TIMING AS WELL, CAN YOU—“ you replied, cutting off his words. “I-i’m so sorry diluc…i’ll help you with th—“ , “CAN YOU STOP CUTTING MY WORDS? Listen to me lady, it’s not about the bag or the papers, its about your presence…why helping you when you can’t even help yourself fix these problems, you’re helpless.”

He said that like a drunk man with no sanity behind his eyes, yet, this time, he’s actually sober, so sober he already pulled off that bag from your grip... He’s losing his patience and you know his words are the truth…still it hurts way too much. Why? Because it’s diluc, the one you called husband. tears fell and you don’t know what to do. It’s like your body doesn’t know how to move.

You look at his eyes, your mind went blank. You can sense his anger, but the tears never stop from your eyes. It’s like you just got hit by a truck. You try to left the living room to the bedroom upstair. At the same time diluc realise his action-you’re already up there-on the stair.

As soon as your foot step into the bedroom. You slowly loses the ability to numb the tears. You lay down on the comfy covers and then just cry. Sniffling. Without words, just cry and cry and cry. Realising that it was your mistake but..it hurts when he struck you with the truth that you’re useless in his eyes.

Diluc didn’t pay mind to pride when it comes to apologizing. Hence, when he heard the sniffling become louder in each breathe you took. He storms to the bedroom and hold your body to his embrace. Covering you from his face. Covering you from the cowardice and guilt he has to face. Securing you from his words..comforting you with his presence.

“sorry princess…don’t bother looking at my face if it means you’ll hate me…i don’t deserve the sight of your eyes…i don’t deserve anything.” He hugs you closer and strokes your hair, within each stroke, it felt like his hands have just won you again. “Thank you for helping me, it ease me a lot—that’s the word you need and i’m unable to fulfil that right..here i am, rejecting you, not acknowledging the effort you took just to wait for me.” He kisses your forehead before carrying you to sit on his lap. “but do believe that i’ll fix this mistake and beg on your knees if you need me to...” he look at your eye despite you not giving him a sight of your puffy eye.

“Anything for a second chance, for my princess.”

Childe:

you really love cooking. It’s something that nobody really knows-cause not evedybody has seen you cook or even taste the food you cook. You’re known to be secretive about everything; Even childe being your husband, only 2 of your 100 friends know-especially with the fact that topic is on your top 10 secret list.

And being in a marriage with childe means you’ll cook 24/7, which at first seems fine with you-but lately, you’ve been losing interest in cooking. It’s like..whatever you make is just a rating of ”it’s okay” for childe. It’s like he doesn’t even bother appreciating your food. So today, you’re trying to confront him…

He’s in a badmood-that’s why he doesn’t bother to try and reach out to you. Though it’ll be very thoughtful if you actually make him his comfort food right? And maybe if you did so, he would’ve complimented your cooking? Right! So you did and you’re so happy with the result! It taste perfect! So you began serving it onto the small bowl and put the food in front of him, you immediately get some spoonful of the food and put it inside his mouth-which is hot-like BURNING HOT. You know you fucked up so badly, so you get some water for him before he said “fuck!” so casually.

“W-what’s wrong..? Sorry i burned your tongue, i really am..!!! Please dr—“ he immediately cut you off. “No…i don’t want to eat dinner, the food doesn’t even taste good…” oh. “and thank you for burning my tongue as well! It certainly helps!.” He mocked you. “Now i can speak while enduring the pain! Right! That’s what you want your husband to feel, right?” He happily grins, a mockery. Childe immediately walked out of the dining room like a child.

And he scoffs silently on the hallway, even though it’s easy enough for you to listen because he talks to himself like he talks to another being. “I should’ve just searched for another person..i can’t stay with an idiot…” and that push you towards a realization that childe always have think of you as somebody who isn’t worth of his time. It’s like reality finally gives you a sign that he’s just one lucky pull you got. You didn’t cry. It gives you a numbing feeling, an empty one.

You sat on the dining table, taking out your apron, you get some bowl of the food and eat it by yourself. Because, like childe said, he wouldn’t eat dinner, so why bother waiting for somebody who can’t even appreciate you?

Eating alone is such a complex feeling, especially in a marriage. It feels lonely but peaceful. At least it can make your mind steady for whatever coming afterwards. You did feel a bit better but..the pain of his words never left you. It never did. It just makes the heart feel more numb as the seconds passed.

You sighed and…there he is, all shy and embarrassed behind the walls, he has been spying on you since 30 minutes ago…he’s guilty as charged. When you see him, you ignored him, immediately. Not wanting to share another eye contact with that man who have insulted your ways of loving him.

He follows you and hold onto your arm before you go elsewhere, who knows what will you do if his arms didn’t hold yours. Childe is embarrassed-guilt on his face and a coward on his heart. He made you wait for a good 5 minutes, he was waiting for you to say something..but instead, childe was met with cold air.

“i’m a loser for insulting your way of loving me. I’m dramatic. I’m a brat. I’m everything that you don’t want in a man.” His head can’t even meet yours. After all, your eyes are blank and it pierces his soul. “You don’t need to give me second chance. You don’t need to treat me right after what i’ve done. A bad deed is a bad deed.” With the courage of the final sentence; he hold onto your hand and kisses your fingertips. “I will win that cold heart of yours again and again, if it means i can live with you in every life to come.”

[withbeasts]

oh. that makes him feel like shit.

" that's not -- " can he not form a fucking sentence when she's around? he needed to get it together. " my wound is still healing. i've been laying really low. from my own family, even. " the questions that would come in an instant; he wasn't dumb enough to think he could fool his mother with something like this healing.

"—okay. Okay." He doesn't pull her so much as she pushes herself forward, crossing over the threshold into his apartment of her own volition and accord.

She looks around as if seeking signs of something out of place, something to comment on.

"I've been worried about you. So, so worried. And it's like I don't exist unless you need something."

[um-soybean]

Pact Marking

Summary: What happens if your pact marks burn instead?

Warning: light description of burning skin, talk OF burning skin, brandings, a darker side to pact markings, mention of death, no ship or specific mention of other characters

Reactions: Lucifer Mammon

Pact markings but they burn into your skin when you use that sin.

They start off as colorful tattoos. Bright and intricately designed just to mark your skin. To be a traceable feature of you. To symbolize the beauty of your newfound demon. A pretty marking, or a horrible mistake. But as your rage builds, as your pride makes others merely stepping stones, as you glance around to ensure no eyes follow as you swipe something, it burns.

Every deadly sin makes a deeper and deeper branding. Smoke flowing off your skin with a searing pain. One that even prevents you from doing so for too long. Or, that is so subtle you don’t even notice till afterwards when your skin flakes off a burnt black or furious blisters decorate your skin instead.

You bear it alone. Only Solomon with his endless years of use and numbness bears it. Bears one. No other human has been graced with the same curse you have. Meaning no one can know what it will do to you in the long run.

It’s unknown if the marks will eventually burn into your bones. If the marks will taint your blood. Or if by the time it happens, you’ve already died from the pain.

Maybe you manage to resist the temptation after the first time. Maybe, you learn your lesson and refrain as best you can. No matter the healing time, nothing can stop the remnant of a silvery scar etched in to your soft human skin.

Because you’re not dealing with just simple demons. Demons whose pact marks only tingle and glow when you use them.

No.

You’ve made a pact with THE Seven Deadly Sins the lords of temptation themselves, and you will bear that scar, that weight, and that burden no matter if your pact is eventually broken.

Note: Well then! I’m back (likely short lived) thanks for reading! This came to me randomly while trying to find a really specific lesson 16 fanfic (I didn’t find it).

[evilmenshoe80]

Okay, more headcanons are coming your way.

If Adam had never eaten the forbidden fruit, life in the Garden of Eden would have remained profoundly different from the world outside it. Pain might still have existed but would likely have been much less intense, functioning as a mild warning system rather than the severe and enduring agony experienced in a fallen world. Perhaps the purity of their state allowed their bodies to heal quickly, minimizing the impact of injury or discomfort. Without the curse of childbirth, reproduction might have been free of pain and physical strain, occurring through a more harmonious and effortless biological process.

Life in Eden could have paralleled modern professions but with a profound respect for nature. Scientific curiosity might have flourished without the need for cruelty, with humans and animals working in mutual harmony—perhaps even communicating, as if humanity's connection to creation were akin to a Disney princess speaking with animals. It’s an intriguing idea that the untainted might possess unique abilities like these, further underscoring their connection to Eden's perfection.

However since Mika, accidentally stepping on Adam's foot and experiencing pain, suggests a unique blend of vulnerability and resilience within Eden. If pain were softer, paired with faster healing, it would make the transition to humanity even more striking for someone like Mika. His struggle with mortality and the loss of divine powers would undoubtedly have been jarring, especially within a world where nothing could truly harm him.

Seth and Abel, as the firstborn sons of humanity, I'd imagine they might have titles such as the "Blessed Sons," considering they're the first two humans to ever be born in Eden. If Abel's tragic story were altered, perhaps Cain’s grandson Lamech would be elevated from the status as the world second murderer to the world's first murder. Meanwhile, Seth could emerge as a leader of the Exterminators or Exorcists, bridging the divine and human realms. Hmm,Seth kind of looks like Adam. Wouldn't it be funny if the first time Lucifer met him, he mistaken him for Adam and tried to kidnap him? Or maybe he constantly bother him with information about Adam since

No one ,( Seth probably: why is this thirsty idiot trying to get with his mom)

In some some headcanons, the exterminator angels, crafted from Michael's feathers, could be seen as his children in a spiritual sense. Imagine Adam doting on them as if they were his own, they are the children of his husband he's practically adopting them on the spot .Eve, with her role as a sin of Wrath I can imagine her having a more active role when it comes to the Sinners and their treatment by the Exorcist and how does Eve react now that she's practically living with the people that she hates the most?

Hehe. I also have a small headcanon that if Seth and Cain were to meet and Hell. They'd basically do their version of "Hell's Greatest Dad."

(WARNING: SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER (not too much) BUT STILL SPOILER OF THE ADAM & MIKA LORE AHEAD, IF YOU WANT TO WAIT AND BE SURPRISED DON'T READ THIS, THANKS (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧)

bring it! i love headcanons!

pain is a thing on both sides, both physical and emotional buuuut the untainted's side handle it better, while the untainted don't have agressive deseases like the tainted's side they can still get hurt, will it feel the same as the tainted's side? I don't know, I think the untainted already have too many advantages over the tainted

and yep, not pain at giving birth for the untainted

the untainted can communicate with the animals of eden but not really talk to them, I imagine something similar to us talking to our pets and they being able to understand despite not really being able to talk and yep, there will be no animal cruelty on the untainted's side, they love and respect their fluffy friends too much

oooohooo mika will struggle to adapt to being a human but the real question is, once he had accepted it and embrace it, will he be able to go back to his angelic life like nothing happened? 👀

"Seth and Abel, as the firstborn sons of humanity, I'd imagine they might have titles such as the "Blessed Sons," considering they're the first two humans to ever be born in Eden"

maybe the angels would give them that title, they are more than happy that adam will give birth to two babies soooo, yep I think it fits that heaven gives them a formal title, for adam and mika they are their "little miracles", deeply loved and pampered in paradise without a worry in the world......unlike their "siblings" on the other side....

"If Abel's tragic story were altered, perhaps Cain’s grandson Lamech would be elevated from the status as the world second murderer to the world's first murder. Meanwhile, Seth could emerge as a leader of the Exterminators or Exorcists, bridging the divine and human realms."

mmmmmm soooorry, but I won't elaborate here, too much spoilers

"Hmm,Seth kind of looks like Adam. Wouldn't it be funny if the first time Lucifer met him, he mistaken him for Adam and tried to kidnap him? Or maybe he constantly bother him with information about Adam since no one ( Seth probably: why is this thirsty idiot trying to get with his mom)"

ajdjadfjadadsh lucifer would have all of heaven behind his ass if he tried that, but realistically, lucifer would inmediatly notice that seth isn't adam, seth is blond and his skin colour is slightly lighter sooooo yeh, no addy booty for the naughty devil...buuuut he would definitely try to get information from him 😂

"In some some headcanons, the exterminator angels, crafted from Michael's feathers, could be seen as his children in a spiritual sense. Imagine Adam doting on them as if they were his own, they are the children of his husband he's practically adopting them on the spot"

aaaawwwwww I didn't knew that hc, that's so cute 🥰 i'm already a fan of adam being a father figure for the exorcists so, totally! Adam would definitely act like a mom towards his husband's feather babies!

"Eve, with her role as a sin of Wrath I can imagine her having a more active role when it comes to the Sinners and their treatment by the Exorcist and how does Eve react now that she's practically living with the people that she hates the most?"

totally, eve would and will advocate for her descendants, while she knows not all of them deserve forgiveness she wants to help the ones that are REALLY sorry for their sins on earth

she's not amused to live close to the people that in her eyes ruined her life, she acts "polite" but oooooohoho my girl is full of wrath and will be veeeeery passive agressive if pushed

"Hehe. I also have a small headcanon that if Seth and Cain were to meet and Hell. They'd basically do their version of "Hell's Greatest Dad."

I won't spoil much but yeeeeeeeah, cain and seth don't have the best relationship 🫣

[valentine-cafe]

Hi! So this is third of my orders per the question I asked earlier today! :3 Tis a smut once again hehehhehehe :3 A scenario please, where The herrera husbands (209) overhear their secretary (reader) breaking up with their partner over the phone, because of the partner cheating, during work and then when we go give them some paperwork or documents you finished working on for them, we're like trying to hold back tears and looking a bit like a kicked puppy but trying to remain professional because we are at work after all. And them fucking us like crazy (literally in their case XD) while sweet talking and comforting us? :3 Thankies!~

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : croissant & red velvet cake !! . . . mad doctors ⊹ gn reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡​​​​​​​𝑢​​​​​​​𝑟​​​​​​​𝑖𝑛​​​​​​​𝑔﹕verse 209 ꮽ  herrera husbands

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀a mad doctor/scientist duo, monstrous and charming

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... after you go through a rough breakup your bosses take it upon themselves to comfort you, and treat you a little kinder than the world has to their poor little secretary ⊹ cw ٬٬ reader got cheated on . rough séx . threèsome . workplace sèx . on the desk and everything . cúm . wc: 2.3k

A fat stack of paper hits the wooden surface of the desk below you. The hand that had previously carried it twitching as you sob into the wire phone in the other.

"Are you fucking serious?!" You whisper angrily into the speaker. Interrupting your partner immediately, as you hear them open their mouth to explain. "You're cheating on me— After everything I've done and do for you?"

Maroon eyes sweep towards your office, as Rishen makes his way down the hallway to cross over to the clinic.

Why, he was simply on his way over to his husband when he heard the commotion that sprawled around your little office room. Followed by the sound of paper flying everywhere and your angry voice yelling down the rear of the phone.

"You're a real asshole you know that?"

Oh Rishen could almost see the tears splattering out across the mahogany desk his husband and him had given you as a birthday gift. A gift of gratitude for all of the hard work you do here for them.

The scientist debated whether to go to you or not- But instead, he makes his way to his husband. Awaiting you there instead. While also informing Jìngyí, of your little situation. . .

A scissor cuts the wire of the phone. Whatever, the company can ensure a new one. Your stupid ex would call you over and over again had you not ended the call like this. So with the remainder of the phone in your hand. You throw it across the room and straight at the wall.

All it takes to try and calm yourself down is another deep breath. To compose yourself. You have papers to give your bosses. After all. Work and professionalism before anything else. You decided to tell yourself that on your way out of the office.

You can cry and throw your partner out of the house when you're home. Let the emotional fountain run wild and change it's course 800 km. Make a river, ruin kingdoms. When you are home. Just not now.

Heartbreak is a cruel curse, however. It is nothing that simply washes away like the sins that lay on your bosses hands. The blood they coat on them can be rinsed. The blood your heart spills, takes more than time to heal up. Especially if you forget to wash it away yourself.

Co-workers, strangers, patients, doctors and scientists all alike pass by you. While your legs feels as though they barely walk. The hallways guide you more than your body does.

What strange senstation it is to feel this numb just from a bit of pain. Its only when your hip bumps into the registration desk you realize you've reached your destination.

"Mx. ___ , you have all your papers with you?" The lady at the register asks. Sharp gaze running over the edge of her glasses. While long fingers with sharp nails type away at the typewriter as she multitasks between talk and work.

"I've everything I need, Serena." You hum in meek reply. Avoiding the viper's gaze. As the sound of a paper getting ripped out of the typewriter scratches your ears.

"The bosses will meet you in A12." She replies.

Instinctively, you note yourself dismissed. However, the same slender hand that previously typed away at the typewriter grabs your shoulder. More gently than usual. "You aren't dismissed. Wait a moment."

You rear your body back to where it had stood and look down at the woman. Who digs for something in the pocket of her bag. Only to hand you a cold bottle of water. "You look rough. Patch up."

A grimace overtakes your face for a milisecond. The gesture strings away at your heart and almost makes you spill. But you take the bottle and give the woman a bow of gratitude. Who dismisses you quickly after.

Door after door passes you once again. Vision unfocused. It is quite clear to most who walk by you, that you are in your own little world. Until you finally get to A12. Well you walk right by, actually. Until a hand grasps at your wrist and pulls you into the room.

"I do believe you were noticed we awaited you in A12. Dear. Not B15"

The gently spoken, deep voice meets your ear way before the face of doctor Jìngyí Herrera does. Only when you turn around to look up at him and register your surroundings does it hit you that you're where you're supposed to be to deliver the papers.

"Ah. I apologise, Doc. Herrera." You reply, bringing the free hand he'd previously tugged at up to your mouth to clear your throat. "I've come with the assigned papers."

"All sorted out I see." Rishen sighs in relief. A fond smile greeting you as always. "It is always nice to have a secretary who takes the order of the papers seriously." She hums and swipes her finger down the stack to count the number order.

"It's perfect, as always dear."

Tears threaten the ducts of your eyes. Sting painfully, with the promise of sobs in the horizon too. No, you couldn't do that.

Amber eyes see straight through you. They perceive the sadness, and they dig into it like a predator clawing at it's prey.

"Why. . . Your eyes look a little puffy, dear. Are you suffering allergies?" Jìngyí calls quietly, as his hand meets the small of your back with reassurance and a promise for comfort. It sends sparks of all sorts throughout your body. Mixed ones.

It feels good, it feels wrong. It feels everything all at once and you barely have time to process before you are being sat in the plush chair by the desk.

"No—" You choke out. Oh damn your heart. Damn everything, you are going to cry infront of your bosses. Whatever.

Tears fall freely from your eyes without your permission to. Perhaps it isn't so bad when a soft bronze hand meets the skin below your eye to gently wipe the salty droplets away. Soft tuts and croons crashing into your heart like the ocean lapping away at the beach.

"No no no."

Rishen gets out of his chair, but keeps the hand on your cheek steady and still as leather shoe clad feet move around the elaborate desk to meet you on the other side.

"Oh darling we can't have you all broken over someone who didn't deserve you in the first place." Time stops and starts after each word spoken and rips the breath out of you at the last part of her sentence.

She knew? Oh. . . Oh of course she knew. Your office can't be avoided when she passes to the clinic. Where is the nearest hole to hide away in and never come out of. Not only are you bawling your eyes out, you are maroon faced at the notion of your boss walking by your earlier meltdown.

"Oh pretend you didn't see it." You squeak out in a sob. The pitches of your voice varying on each syllable. Both Rishen and Jìngyí would argue they are some of the prettiest pitches and noises they've ever heard. A perfect mix of heartbreak and embarrassment they anticipate to turn into pleasure instead. Wouldn't that be fun? Hear you gradually go from wails of grief to fucked out moaning?

Rishen huffs in response to your words. The immediate pushing away and denial she saw it is quite endearing. "Cariño," she whispers against the shell of your ear and takes your hands in hers. "I saw it, know it hurts too. . ."

Meanwhile, Jìngyí finds his hands circling your waist before they move you close to wrap you into a hug. The affection of both of them kickstarting your spiral all over again. So much for any attempts to stay composed. It all runs from you and you can't chase it anymore.

"We can help you feel better." The doctor whispers in your ear. Shushing your sobs when they become frantic. While his hand rubs circles at your back, smoothing out any aches around your shoulders as well. "Would you like that dear?"

"Y-Yeah," you sniffle into the other man's shoulder. And let out a small noise when you feel her warm hand move to your thigh. "Wait—"

"It's okay, I won't do anything unless you're uncomfortable with it." The whisper sends chills up and down your spine. While goosebumps riddle your skin, and the scientist in front of you doesn't help at all when she chuckles at the feel of it below his hand.

"Don't feel pressured either, darling." The doctor whispers from behind. Long fingers comb away at your hair, moving up to massage at your scalp to help you ease a bit and better decide what you want. "We only want to make you feel good after such awful discovery."

You suck in the air your lungs have been begging to breathe in for a while after you held it for long enough to make your skin tingle and prickle by the lack of oxygen. And for a moment, you ease into the both of them as you think. You allow yourself time to think about it.

"I think. . . Yeah, I'd. . . I'd really like that." You swallow the lump forming in your throat as the smooth hand on your thigh moves back up to the inside of your thigh. Squeezing at the supple flesh, as it nears the edge of your underwear. Teasing at your hole to get a reaction out of you.

"Fuck this is what we have been missing out on?" Hot breaths fan against your shoulder and chest. While you take Jìngyí from behind and Rishen tends to you in the front. One hand fixed on your tip/clit while the other pinches away at your nipples and makes you tug at her piercings too. All while Jìngyí jerks Rishen off too while fucking you raw and sore.

Another moan escapes your pretty throat, as fangs bite down into your chest. Grinning as tears of pleasure roll down your face and down your neck. "O— Oh my god, p- mh— thank you- t-thank—" You cry out, sobbing against the head of curls that leave hickeys and crecent moon bitemarks down your chest and collarbone.

"No need to— Heh, fuck. Thank us. Darling." Jìngyí breathelessly chuckles into your ear and angles his hips to intensify the thrusts. "Such a sweet hole— fuck, you're doing so good."

Shivers feel like lightning strikes that clash straight into your body and jolt away at all of your limbs. They both feel the static that you exude. That sunlight that they always look forward to seeing. A fucked out, dumb smile taking over the frown that had previously stayed on your pretty lips.

"D'ya even remember why you came in here pretty?" Rishen laughs and flexes her arms a little as she pushes you further against Jìngyí and the desk. Delicate fingers tilting your chin to look into the maroon eyes that stare down into yours with obssessive affection. And you can only shake your head in response to the question.

"N-no?" You pant and smile. Earn a little round of laugh from both of them as they speed up their pace. "Good."

The rough whisper is a praise that only gods could give their willing and ever devoted followers. You would follow the both of them into any place they crooned for you to. Like a pair of mischevious crows singing lullabies to the sparrows outside the graveyard. Humouring them to join them. But at what cost?

You are exchanged between the two of them like a blunt passed around. Sending them to the heights of the world. The feel of Rishen suddenly jack hammering his hard cock into your sensitive and overstimulated hole sends you through another orgasm. "R—Rishen!" You squeal and hold onto him tightly.

"Theeeere we go— Pretty darling." She laughs and leans her head over your shoulder to press a kiss to Jìngyí's lips. Moaning against them as she feels everything inside of you. The warmth wrapped around him is more than delightful. You're fucking delicious and that bastard you were previously clearly didn't know what they had.

Heavy pants and desperate whines build up in your ear like the chours of angels. Not only do you feel amazing, your brain feels as though it's being cleansed. You haven't ever been pleasured like this. It's addicting.

"Won't have to worry anymore. We'll take care of you." One breath. "Poor thing. Want us to keep going? Yeah? Make you feel better than you ever have?" Two breaths— Oh you're coming undone all over again. What if people hear you outside?

Suppose that bottle of water you received at the registration has it's purpose after all. These two aren't stopping anytime soon until you forget about your shitty ex. You're gonna need the fuel and hydration.

[smutmind]

Sex Note (Ending pt.1)

The storm raged outside.

Inside, silence reigned.

The door swung open and shut with the howling wind.

Miyeon was gone.

Only the wreckage remained.

Jae slumped against the wall, face buried in trembling hands.

Minjae sat on the floor, head bowed, sweat cooling on his skin, Miyeon's scent still clinging to him.

Neither spoke.

Neither moved.

Until—

The notebook twitched where it had fallen.

Pages flipped by themselves, faster and faster, slapping against each other like frantic wings.

Then, from the heart of the book — a voice emerged.

It was not loud. It was not angry.

It was worse.

It was calm. Ancient. Amused.

"You thought it was just a game."

The voice was smooth, curling through the room like smoke.

Jae jerked his head up, eyes wide with horror.

Minjae flinched, scooting back against the wall.

"You used her body. You crushed her spirit."

The book's pages shivered, words burning themselves onto new sheets — black ink bleeding like wounds.

"You took her dreams. You broke her mind."

Jae sobbed, shaking his head violently.

"No— I didn't— I tried to stop—"

"You tried too late."

The voice cut him like a knife.

"You both consumed her. Now she will consume you."

Minjae slammed his fist onto the floor.

"Shut up!" he shouted, voice cracking. "I loved her—!"

"Love?" The voice laughed softly — a cruel, pitying sound.

"You loved your own hunger. You loved your own power."

The pages twisted, words rearranging themselves into new sentences, ones that seared into the room:

"Her heart will never return. Her soul now carries your sins. Her body, once yours, will curse you both."

The lights flickered, the air growing colder, heavier.

Jae clutched his chest, gasping.

Minjae gritted his teeth, fists trembling.

"And this is only the beginning."

The voice grew softer — almost intimate.

"You thought the Note only bound flesh. But it binds fate."

A final line scorched itself into the open page, smoking faintly:

"You are marked."

And then — silence.

The notebook snapped itself shut with a loud crack.

The room plunged into cold darkness.

Jae sobbed brokenly, curling into himself.

Minjae sat frozen, wide-eyed, feeling something creep inside him — something black, oily, and permanent.

Miyeon was gone.

Their futures were cursed.

And no apology, no prayer, no plea would ever undo it.

The Sex Note had only just begun collecting its price.

The morning light was thin and gray.

The storm had passed, but the air still tasted bitter.

Inside the ruined apartment, Jae sat slumped against the wall, eyes red, heart hollow.

Minjae stared blankly at the ceiling, chest barely rising with each broken breath.

Neither spoke.

Neither could.

The black notebook lay between them on the floor, closed, still.

Waiting.

Watching.

And then —

It moved.

The cover shuddered.

The pages flipped rapidly on their own.

The spine arched as if it were breathing.

A faint glow pulsed from the leather, once… twice…

And then the notebook vanished.

Gone.

No smoke. No flash.

Just emptiness, where it had been.

Minjae staggered to his knees, clawing at the floor like he could drag it back.

"No—!" he shouted hoarsely. "We're not done—!"

But it was gone.

The Sex Note had chosen its next prey.

Leaving them behind.

Broken.

Ruined.

Forgotten.

🌑

Somewhere else — a different city, a different dreamer — the Sex Note appeared again.

A new temptation.

A new soul to destroy.

The cycle would never end.

🌑

And Miyeon?

She woke up two days later, curled in her bed at home, the faint ache in her body a mystery.

She remembered nothing.

Not the red swimsuit.

Not the silver whistle.

Not the cold hands on her skin.

Not the laughter. Not the pain.

The spell had ripped the memories from her mind to protect her soul.

Miyeon would heal.

Move on.

Smile again.

But something inside her stayed bruised — a faint ghost of a scar she would never explain.

A shiver when strangers touched her too roughly. A sadness in her smile she never understood.

🌑

But for Jae and Minjae —

There would be no forgetting.

They remembered everything.

Every scream.

Every whimper.

Every broken plea.

The touch of her skin.

The taste of her tears.

The look in her eyes when she realized what they had done.

It haunted them.

Day after day. Night after night.

They reached for love and found only guilt.

They touched new bodies and felt nothing but shame.

They tried to move on — but the stain of what they had done clung to them like a second skin.

No love ever touched them again.

No intimacy ever filled the hollow spaces inside.

They were hollow men.

Breathing.

Walking.

Empty.

Punished.

Forever.