#the lord is my light and salvation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoffmansgirl · 1 month ago

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MILLION DOLLAR MAN. ━ father charlie mayhew ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ✿ ⋆˚⊹

∙ a/n. took ages but it's based on this thought of mine & a lana del rey song (loosely) ♡ this shit is really kinky & not for everyone, PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! i'm sorry...

∙ warnings. PURE FILTH. i mean it. corpses, death, all that grotesquerie stuff... slight masochism!? charlie and reader are equally mentally ill... really. blood kink, blasphemy, charlie refers to himself as "god", praise, oral (f&m receiving), multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, knife play, whipping, crying, blood once again. ∙ wc. 3534

❝ 𝕿hat's... beautiful", you smiled, staring at Charlie's work; twelve corpses ━ homeless people, to be exact ━ positioned to resemble The Last Supper.

You couldn't help but smirk at the sight; the man Charlie put in the middle was positioned in a way that represented Jesus. You knew him; he had asked you for money many times, claiming he was hungry ━ you had suspected he spent every penny on meth, though.

You believed Charlie wholeheartedly when he claimed that all he did was for greater good. You weren't scared nor worried ━ if anything, you admired him and his dedication to everything he believed in. You watched him stand in the middle of the abandoned Church, admiring his own work; the image making your heart beat faster. He was covered in blood of his victims, and you should feel ashamed for the heat pooling low in your stomach ━ but you didn't.

Your careful steps echoed in the air as you walked over to Charlie, and he was quick to wrap his arms around you, his chest pressing against your back, covering your little dress with blood in the process.

A rush of adrenaline filled your chest as you hummed, Charlie's touch gentle and soft ━ as you looked at the blasphemous image in front of you, you wondered how'd he get that way. He never talked about his past; saying that all he needed was now, in front of him, clear as day.

"Look at our masterpiece, Angel", his low voice cut through the air like a knife ━ and in the moment you realised that maybe he was worth cutting yourself for.

"Our? I barely did anything", you chuckled, his presence behind you comforting; he was so big, muscular, making you feel safe; how ironic, you thought, looking at the image in front of you.

Charlie's crimson hand lingered on your neck, before he grabbed your chin, making you turn your head towards him.

"You're here, with me", he whispered, his words meaningful, familiar spark in his eyes; the very one that made you fall in love with him. Charlie's thumb rubbed against your lower lip, smearing the blood all over it, adoration overcoming his features as he looked at you. "And it's enough".

You turned to face him fully, taking his thumb into your mouth slowly; Charlie's eyes darkened and he swallowed hard, pressing it down on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his digit, lapping at the blood, the taste making your head spin. You held onto his forearm, and he pulled you closer, grabbing a fistful of your hair, his sick need matching your own.

Before you knew it, you were pressed flush against the wall with Charlie's lips on yours ━ tongues meeting in a chaotic dance, rolling over each other messily.

"I'd follow you anywhere", you breathed out when he moved down to nib at your neck. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating against your throat in the most delicious way. "Anywhere".

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?", you chanted, your knees cushioned by the padded kneeler. Charlie hummed softly; your words filled the air like the most beautiful song.

A mix of incense and Charlie's strong cologne reached your nostrils, somewhat comforting and calming as you felt his presence behind you.

"Beautiful", he muttered, almost as if he was speaking to himself. Your heart fluttered at the praise as you shifted, the sheer dress you wore rising up your thighs with the movement. "Go on".

"The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?", your eyes opened, lashes fluttering at the sight of Charlie; he towered over your kneeling form, looking down at you with a hint of awe and adoration in his features. You eyed his chest, covered only by a see-through, white gown ━ he looked like an angel, which, in your eyes, he was.

"And who is your Lord?", Charlie's hand was now in your hair, forcing you to meet his hard, demanding gaze. You meant it when you answered: "You. It's you, Charlie. You're the only God I want to worship".

He expected these words to leave your mouth, but he could never tire of hearing them. You spoke with such confidence, not a trace of regret or fear in your voice, and his his cock twitched at the sight; you were so obedient, so good to him.

Charlie offered you a hand, which you gladly accepted, getting up from the kneeler. Your legs shook slightly as he pulled you close, one of his hands on your face, the other grabbing your hip. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the gesture gentle and loving, his eyes scanning over your face.

"You've been so good for me", he whispered, and you leaned into his touch, pressing your body even closer to his; it simply was never enough. "I love you".

His lips pressed against yours, deliberately and slowly, as if you had all the time in the world. His smell lingered in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Charlie bit your bottom lip, drawing blood in process, lapping at the crimson liquid greedily, careful not to miss a drop. You whined, and Charlie was quick to lift you up in his arms, walking over to the altar.

You tried to deepen the kiss, but Charlie had other plans, dropping you on a wooden chair; the very one he sat in during masses and preaches.

"Greed is a sin", he whispered in a serious tone, brushing his lips against yours for the last time, before he fell to his knees before you. "Patience, my Angel".

You watched with wide eyes and heaving chest as Charlie spread your legs as wide as he could, lifting your dress ━ he gazed up at you, caressing the soft skin of your thighs with his big hands. You shivered when he tugged at the waistband of your lacy thong, and your hips rose up immediately, allowing him to pull it down your legs.

The cold air hitting your ━ now exposed ━ pussy made you gasp, as you clutched the edges of the chair tightly. Charlie chuckled darkly, watching the way your little hole clenched in anticipation.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing soft kisses around your pussy, giving you a sneak peek of what was about to come.

"You're mine to worship", he bit back a moan at the taste of your soft skin, and he didn't even get to the best part yet. "Mine to love", he met your gaze, and you nodded mindlessly, getting lost in his dark irises. "Mine to fuck".

As soon as the words left his mouth, he licked a deliberate stripe from your opening to your clit. Your head fell back, the rush of sitting on the specific chair while having his mouth on you made you feel so powerful. Charlie's tongue moved with purpose, circling around your clit slowly, before sucking it into his mouth. Your breaths came out in shallow gasps, the occasional groans leaving his mouth vibrating against your core, causing you to shake in his grasp.

"Charlie, fuck", you moaned, tugging at his hair, knowing how much he liked it. His eyes fluttered shut as he teased your entrance with the very tip of his tongue, lapping at the arousal that continued to drip out of you. "God, I'm━ I'm sorry, I'm gonna cum", you cried out; the endless flicks of his tongue, the groans leaving his mouth, the sight of his beautiful face between your legs ━ it became too much, fire pooled in your lower abdomen, ready to explode any second now.

Your loud cry echoed across the empty church as you came, and Charlie's eyes snapped open to watch as your face twisted in pleasure, a mixture of curses and shallow gasps leaving your mouth, and he swore he could cum from the sight alone.

He lapped at your pussy, eager to taste every single drop you had to offer. You twitched in overstimulation, slowly coming down from your high, sighing in relief when Charlie moved to kiss your inner thighs lovingly.

Not even five minutes later, you were already in Charlie's room, bloody clothes laying all over the floor; the memory of your latest crime, how you stood by his side the whole time ━ it made Charlie even needier.

You run your hands over his biceps at which desperate groan left his mouth ━ then he was quick to take the butt-less leather chaps and gown off his body before pushing you onto the bed.

Sick smile appeared on Charlie's mouth as he grabbed the metal-covered whip, along with a knife from his drawer; a rush of adrenaline run down your spine at the sight.

You took a second to admire his well-trained body as his back faced you, his muscles clenching as he moved around the room to get everything he needed. You were already breathless, and when he started moving towards you, his gaze predatory and dangerous, you were shaking. Not an ounce of fear in your body as he placed the items on the bedside table, his cock bobbing in the air as he walked; your mouth watered at the sight and his size that never failed to amaze you.

"Get on the floor". The harshness of his voice was enough for you to obey, sinking down on your knees right in front of him. "Worship your man. Let's see if you can handle me", he teased, knowing that in fact, you could, even if you struggled and choked. He challenged you, but you just smiled, knowing that the tables would turn soon enough.

"You know I can, Father", his cock twitched at the nickname ━ before he could respond, you were already grabbing his thighs, face to face with his giant cock, pressing a soft kiss on the tip. He hummed, satisfied, running a hand through your hair, tugging at it, forcing you to open your mouth a little wider. You smirked up at him before obeying, taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue and pressing it against the underside. You hollowed your cheeks, beginning to bob your head, taking more and more of him in the process, getting used to his size slowly but surely.

"Fuck, you have the dirtiest little mouth", Charlie groaned, watching you, beginning to thrust into your mouth as he grew needier. You struggled as he hit the back of your throat, your eyes falling open to look at him. His head fell back, chest heaving with uneven breaths, and you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you to him, still. You quickly replaced your mouth with your hands, wrapping them around his shaft, jerking him off. Your tongue darted out to lap at his balls, massive and full of cum, and a satisfied moan left your mouth; you loved pleasuring him almost as much as he loved seeing you on your knees for him.

Shameless groan left Charlie's mouth, your small hands around him and your mouth on his balls driving him crazy. "I need to feel you. Now".

Your eyes fell open and you moved to take him in your mouth again, causing Charlie to hiss, taking a mental note to punish you for disobeying him later. Yet he couldn't pull away, not now ━ not when your mouth felt so good, so warm and welcoming. He thrusted his hips lazily, and you stopped your movements, letting him take the lead.

"You fucking love it, don't you? You love choking on my dick. You love letting me use your mouth however I please", he panted, feeling himself getting close, the obscene sounds leaving your mouth only spurring him on further. You tried to nod, which was nearly impossible with the speed in which he was fucking your throat.

"I'm gonna cum. Fuck, swallow it, swallow it all", he hissed, head falling back; your nails digged into his thighs, soft moan leaving your occupied mouth, and that seemed to be his last straw.

His cock twitched, and spurts of his hot cum finally painted your tongue and the back of your throat.

He pulled off your mouth with a swift movement, and you swallowed every single drop, the taste making you whimper, as you tried to catch your breath.

"Good fucking girl. Show me", he grabbed your chin, pressing his thumb against your lower lip; you obeyed, chest heaving with uneven breaths and throat sore, as you sticked your tongue out. His eyes darkened, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth, before he forced you to stand up, only to practically throw you on the bed like a doll.

Charlie grabbed the knife from a nightstand; your eyes widened and your legs closed, a spark of excitement running down your spine.

Charlie spread your legs, kneeling in between them; knife forgotten for just a second as he tugged at your dress, determined to get it off your body. It was thrown on the floor in an instant, and he was already lining himself up with your entrance.

You moaned in unison when his tip stretched you out ━ smug smile adorning his face at the visible impatience building within you.

"You're so tight", he rasped, pressing your thigh against the mattress. You cried out when he buried himself inside of you fully in one, swift movement. Your walls struggled to adjust to his size, and you tried to catch your breath. "So warm. My God. You really are an Angel, aren't you?", Charlie muttered, grabbing the knife while beginning to thrust into you ━ and your pussy clenched at the sight.

Then he pressed the flat side of the knife against your skin; the coldness on your burning skin made you gasp. The feeling of Charlie's thick cock fucking into you over and over again, combined with the thrill of being completely at his mercy making you gush.

"You have no idea how badly I want to cut my name into your skin", he groaned, pressing the blade into your skin lightly. You gripped at the sheets and your head fell back. The sound of your skin slamming together filled the room, along with your cries, and Charlie's loud breathing.

"Do it", you begged, and Charlie's hand wrapped around your throat, cutting your airflow in an instant.

You should be scared; he was the one having all the control, and, most importantly, he held the knife against your skin. Yet, in your sick mind, there was no room for fear ━ not when he slammed into you as if his life depended on it, mumbling incoherent praises right above you.

The truth was, you had all the power over him; he sacrificed everything for you, only for you.

So when the blade pressed into the skin on your chest, cutting through it, some blood flowing out of the wound ━ all you did was moan, feeling your orgasm taking over you slowly ━ and Charlie's hand left your throat, letting you take a deep breath.

"I'm going to cum", you cried out, the sharp sting of where he cut a big C into your skin leaving you whimpering.

Your blood covered his chest and stomach as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours, running the flat side of his knife over your cheek. The pain combined with pleasure of his restless thrusts sent you spiralling, and your back arched into the air as you soaked his cock.

"Good fucking girl. Come on, give me everything you got", he talked you through the waves of pleasure, sick smile on his face as he watched you cry from overstimulation. You took a second to calm down, enjoying the way he was balls deep inside you, pressing wet kisses down your neck. His hips grinded against yours involuntarily when he reached the bloody C carved out on your chest; he greedily licked at the wound, groaning at the taste.

You whimpered, letting him clean you of your own blood, before you gained enough strength to push him back against the bed, sinking down on his cock.

Charlie's eyes widened ━ he was partially surprised at your sudden dominance; he wouldn't let you do it often; but this time, it just felt right.

You lifted yourself enough to reach the whip from the nightstand. Charlie understood; he understood immediately, sitting up, as you sink down on his thick cock yet again. Some more blood flowed down your body, and he was unable to look away, his eyes almost pleading.

"How many?", you asked casually, although your voice was strangled, your cunt spasming around him in anticipation.

But there was no answer from him. So, smiling wildly, you swinged and whipped his back; the metal cutting through his skin.

Charlie cried out, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. The pain left him trembling, and you were quick to press a soft kiss against his lips. Charlie responded immediately, whimpering into your mouth, his hips snapping upward to meet yours.

"I asked you a question", you whispered, tugging on his hair.

"I... Five. Angel━ J-Just move", he pleaded, and you smiled sweetly; the contrast between the delicious roll of your hips and the whip cutting through his skin yet again made him lightheaded, and he only imagined how much blood flowed from the wounds.

"You're doing so good for me", you praised, beginning to ride him in an inhuman speed, switching between grinding your hips down and bouncing on his big cock. The stretch made you moan, and Charlie was unable to speak, feeling as if he could cum any second now.

Third whip and he was begging you to stop, yet you knew that's not what he wanted. His eyes pleading and wide, and before he knew it, he was cumming inside of you, biting on your shoulder, a desperate cry leaving his mouth.

"Good boy", and you bounced faster, trying to distract him from the pain as you lashed him for the fourth time. "Doin' so good for me. You need to take this. It's your penance". And he was nodding, knowing you were right ━ and he was ready to take any kind of punishment if it meant he could be with you.

After the fifth and last whip, Charlie fell back on the bed, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. He was paralysed ━ more from the pleasure and overstimulation than pain. You let the whip fall on the floor, giving him a minute to breathe.

But Charlie was needy ━ no, he was desperate to feel you trembling under him. A squeal left your mouth when he lifted you off him, pressing your upper half flush against the bed. You arched your back, dizzy from pleasure and need ━ your hips grinding into the air in search of his cock again.

Charlie plunged into you again with one, swift movement, feeling as if he could cum again just at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him deliciously.

You were a whimpering mess when he started thrusting into you in an inhuman speed ━ and you were almost convinced that you could feel his cock in your throat from how deep he was.

"Say my name", he demanded, tugging on your hair, yanking your head back to rest against his chest. The change of angle caused you to gasp, and you did exactly what he asked: screamed his name, the sound echoing through the room and corridor. "You're taking me so good", he stilled for a moment, letting you buck back into him, enjoying the way your ass bounced with every movement.

Charlie, unable to control himself, spanked your ass, obsessed with the way your skin got red, the crimson handprints contrasting with your pale skin.

He let you fuck yourself on his cock, a creamy ring appearing at the base ━ his cum leaking out of your used hole with every sway of your hips. You clenched, holding onto his thighs for balance, and Charlie let go of your hair only to tilt your head towards him.

Your clouded eyes met his, and Charlie smiled lovingly, pressing his lips against yours ━ sweetly and gently.

"Cum for me, Angel", he whispered as you grinded your hips down, almost passing out from the intense pleasure. Your skin felt hot, legs ready to give out any second now.

Charlie sensed it immediately, and he helped you by thrusting up into you, meeting you halfway, a satisfied moan leaving both of you.

It wasn't long until he came inside of you, filling you to the brim for the second time. His orgasm triggered your own. Charlie caressed your sides until you stopped shaking, whispering soft praises into your ear.

A few minutes later you were cleaning Charlie's back, muttering occasional "sorry" when he hissed in pain.

"I'm taking you on a trip tomorrow", he said softly, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your delicate hands taking care of his back. You nodded, not pressing any further.

As long as you were with him, nothing else mattered.

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yanderecxre · 8 months ago

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Yandere!Cult Leader/Priest × gn!reader

Summary: Mason Blackwair always knew you'd be his. His sweet little dove, kept peacefully by his side, it's such a shame you've gotten so disillusioned with the teachings, but that's fine. It just gives him the opportunity to keep you with him forever now, willing or not.

CW: gaslighting, stabbing, cults, abuse of power, pet names, religious themes/wording, breeding, disassociating (reader), non-con, dycraphilia, dubious consent, loss of virginity, threats & as always if you think I missed anything just pm or say anything!

Note: peeks in and waves hi! Hope you guys like this one if you want a part 2 let me know!! ~ bunny

You are a member of your family's cult. Recently, you've begun to doubt your faith and the cult members found you guilty; as punishment, you were chosen to sacrifice yourself in the name of God.

At night you came to your priest, Mason Blackwair cell to ask him to mitigate your punishment. Mason sits quietly and calmly, his face illuminated by the light of a candle, his thin long fingers running over the pages of the Bible. Finally, Mason notices you standing in the aisle and smiles brightly. Despite the certain joy in his face, it is obvious that his smile is fake and here just for the sake of politeness.

“Hello, my dear dove. What brings you here?”

Mason doesn't let you answer and interrupts you with a little laugh.

“Ah, wait! I think I got it, little dove. Did you come here to talk about your punishment? I am sorry to tell you this, but I cannot influence the sacrifice in any way. Soon I will become the leader of our beautiful commune and that is why I need to maintain the reputation of a strict and fair manager…”

For a second, something like annoyance and sadness flashes in Mason's eyes and he quickly turns away.

“My advice is… To open your heart for salvation, little dove. Perhaps our Lord will hear your request.”

"The same Lord who wants them to tie me to the altar and cut me until I'm cleansed?”

You demanded softly, teary eyed as you looked into his eyes, the eyes that once belonged to your childhood friend. The sweet boy who used to pick flowers with you and run around the commune, now turned into nothing but a stranger.

Mason pauses for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if he is trying to find something in your expression. Finally, he stands up from his seat and walks towards you, stopping just inches away from you.

"My dear dove… Do you know what this sacrifice means? It doesn't mean that they want to kill you. They want God to purify your soul by shedding your blood.”

Mason puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling gently at you.

"Look at me, little dove. You know how much I care about you and the commune's faith. But it doesn't mean that I am blind to the human side of things. I will talk with your father and see what we can do for you."

At this point, there is a sincere and caring note in Mason's voice.

"But remember, our Lord has a plan for all of us, even when it seems like He is leading us through dark paths."

You just shook, rage and fear in your veins. You quickly turned away and left him behind, crying now. It broke his heart to see you so upset, he reached out for you but only touched empty air as you exited with the final parting words.

"I'm retiring to my prison.”

Mason watches you retreat silently, his expression unreadable. Once you are out of sight, he sighs deeply and picks up the Bible again. He flips through its pages, frowning at whatever it is that he sees.

After a few minutes of brooding in silence, Mason closes the book and walks towards the door of his cell. Before leaving, he turns back to look at the empty room with a sad smile on his lips.

"I hope you'll forgive me someday for what I'm about to do."

He murmurs softly before blowing out the candles and leaving it behind, retiring to his bedroom.

You spent the entire night crying your eyes out, lamenting that all you'd see tomorrow was the crazed looks of the people you once thought of as family, your weak pathetic cries echoing around your cell.

You stood still as your parents led you to the altar, your father offering soft whispers of apologies as he and your mother tied you down, a knife lay beside the altar. You looked up at the ceiling, teary-eyed.

As you lay tied to the altar, your family gathers around with solemn expressions. The room is dimly lit and there's a faint smell of incense in the air.

Mason steps forward, his robes rustling as he walks towards the altar. He stops at the edge, looking down at his dove with an unreadable expression.

"Dear little dove…" Mason says softly, reaching for one of your hands. "You are about to become a vessel for our Lord's power. Do not be afraid.”

Mason picks up the knife from beside the altar and holds it gently in his hand.

"I will be performing this sacrifice myself," he adds. "May God have mercy on your soul."

With that said, Mason places a gentle kiss on your forehead before raising the knife above his head with both hands.

"Do not resist," he whispers to your ear. "Receive His love."

You closed your eyes and sobbed, refusing to let that sick yet soft look in his eyes be the last thing you saw.

Mason hesitates for a brief moment, his grip on the knife faltering slightly as he hears you crying. A flicker of emotions crosses his face before he quickly regains his composure.

"Dear dove," Mason says softly, almost pleadingly. "Do not be afraid. The pain is temporary but the glory you will experience afterward is eternal."

With that said, Mason slowly lowers the knife towards your chest.

"May our Lord have mercy on your soul," he whispers as he plunges the blade into your flesh.

The sacrifice lasts only a few seconds - it's short, but terrifying- and everything becomes blurry to you, as if you'd been transported out of your body and that someone else was experiencing this torment instead of you.

When it's over you feel weak and faint.

When you awoke, you were back in your bedroom, your mother sitting on a chair beside you. She reached out to touch you and you flinched terrified, letting out a loud sob.

As you awaken in your bedroom, you see your mother sitting beside your bed on a chair. She reaches out to touch you, but flinches when she sees that you are terrified of her and immediately backs away.

"Shh… it's alright," Your mother says softly, trying to comfort you. "You're safe now, my dear.” you want to scream ‘LIAR’ at her as she speaks, saying you were safe. You felt horrible and terror filled your body.

Mason enters the room and stands at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest, watching silently as your mother tries to calm you down.

"You did well today," he says coolly. "Thanks for receiving His love."

Although his words are praised-like, they do nothing to produce any emotion or feeling from him. He watches you, shaking and looking like a terrified animal, like a lamb who barely escaped the slaughter. He wants to say more but knows nothing he says will help you.

It was like seeing a ghost, his little dove no longer did as they usually did. There were no more sweet smiles or hymns sung as chores were completed, no more treats baked with trays especially reserved for Mason. Instead his dove was shut away, in their room, only going out for meals and sermons or whenever their parents coaxed them out.

Mason notices the change in your behavior and it bothers him deeply. He cannot help but wonder if he's partly responsible for what happened to you.

One day, he decides to visit you in your room. When he enters, you are sitting alone by the window staring out at the sky. You look up when you hear him come in.

"Little dove," Mason says softly as he approaches you. "I'm here to talk with you.”

There's a slight tremble in his voice - an unusual vulnerability that shows that even someone like him has feelings.

"I know that things have been difficult for you lately," he continues, taking a seat beside you on the bed. "But I want you to understand that everything we do is for the greater good of our commune and our faith."

He places a hand on yours and looks into your eyes with deep concern.

"You can always talk with me if there's something troubling you."

You stared blankly back. "I am fine. I've been cleansed by the knife.” You whispered softly and finally looked at him with vacant and distant eyes.

Mason nods slowly, sensing that there's something you're not telling him.

"I see," he says quietly. "But I can see that you're still hurting inside. And I want to help you."

He takes a deep breath and continues, "Little dove, I know that the sacrifice was traumatic for you. But it was necessary for our faith. You were chosen because we believe that your spirit is strong enough to endure it."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching her face.

"But if you're still feeling lost or confused… You can talk to me about it. Remember: Our faith is in everything."

"I used to play the piano. Right? Or did I sing? My memory is confusing.” You looked up at him, sadly. Shaking slightly as you stared at nothing. “I don't know who I am anymore, Mason. I'm scared.”

Mason furrows his brow slightly, unsure of what you are trying to say. He doesn't remember you ever playing any instrument.

"I'm not sure what you mean, little dove," he says with a frown. "What are you talking about?”

"I don't remember who I was before the sacrifice. Who was i? Who am I now? I'm scared Mason, so scared. Who was I before you drove the knife into me?”

Mason freezes at your words, his mind processing what you just said. He stands up from the bed and takes a few steps away from you, his face contorted with shock. He thought you'd forgotten he'd been the one to do it.

"What are you talking about?" he asks harshly. "I never drove the knife into you, little dove."

His voice is cold and hard, and there's a hint of anger in it.

"Who told you such lies? You are mistaken. Your mind is playing tricks on you dove." Mason mutters as he knelt between your thighs, grasping your hands in his and squeezing them. “Fret not little dove, your mind will get better.”

"May our Lord have mercy on your soul." It's spoken in a mockery of Mason's voice. You looked at him slightly confused, "That's what you spoke, right? Unless um, I misheard… but it sounded like you-”

Mason's eyes widen in realization as you speak. He takes a step closer to you, his expression softening.

"Oh, little dove…" he says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through this."

He pauses for a moment before continuing.

"You are right… It was me who drove the knife into your heart. I did it because our Lord told me so in a vision - it was His will that you be sacrificed.”

Mason cups your face gently and looks into your eyes with compassion.

"But please believe me when I say that everything we do is for the greater good of our faith. Your family has devoted their lives to serving Him."

“Y-you did? But- w-why? It hurt- a lot-” You were working yourself up into a panic before he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Hush, little dove, you're recovering, do not strain yourself, you know why. In order to cleanse you, now enough of this. Rest and cease thinking about such things further.”

Mason looks away from you for a moment, his eyes full of sadness.

"I know you're not thinking clearly right now," he says quietly. "But I still feel responsible for what happened to you. I know that you must hate me now… But please understand that it was never my intention to hurt you."

He takes a deep breath and continues, "All I wanted is to protect our faith and people from the evil in this world. Sacrifices are painful, but they purify our souls and make us stronger - so we can better serve Him.” Mason murmured and hugged you tightly to his chest.

"I f-feel upset. You're supposed to protect me, yet you drove a knife into me and now that- that everyone in the commune saw it- i- I'll be alone forever and my parents won't find me a spouse.” Your lip wobbled and you sniffled slightly, clinging to him. You were unable to see his cruel and satisfied smile as he held you, petting your hair softly.

Mason listens to your words with a sinking heart. He knows that it is true - he did drive the knife into you, and that decision has caused you so much pain.

"I… I had no choice," he says quietly, almost to himself. "It was His will."

Fake tears glisten in his eyes as Mason looks at you, finally realizing the weight of his actions.

"You're right," he says softly. "I should have protected you, not hurt you. I cannot change what happened now… But I promise you this: I will do everything in my power to help you recover from this. Starting right now.”

Mason gently kisses you, his lips pressing against yours as he speaks. “I'll remedy this immediately, you and I shall marry. That way you won't be alone.” He doesn't give you a moment to speak, already pressing you against the bed, kissing you deeply now.

You let out a muffled noise of confusion and panic, squirming underneath him and pushing at his chest. His lips finally move away only to seek your neck and leave bites and bruises upon it as you gasped and whimpered. “A-ah! M-mason- wait- p-please hold on- i-”

His head lifts up, looking at you with his eyes blown wide as he grunts an acknowledgement to your words, “Yes my dove? Sh, it's alright, who better to take responsibility than the one responsible for your misfortunes? Relax, or would you rather this happen at the altar later? Where everyone, will see and hear you?”

You trembled slightly the idea of that happening terrifying you to your core yet feeling slightly exhilarating. Mason grinned, feeling you relax and continued making his way to your waist.

Mason kissed down until he reached your entrance, humming softly as he placed his hands firmly on your squirming thighs, grunting loudly as he forced them open. “Enough of that, do not do that again or I will have to tie you down. Understood little dove?”

You nodded, or tried to as you gasped softly and whimpered out a moan at the feeling of his tongue licking and sucking at your entrance, no one had ever touched you there. “Mhmph! M-mason! Hng- t-too much!”

Mason puts a comforting hand on your thighs. He pulls away from between your thighs, face covered in his own saliva and your fluids that ran down your inner thighs.

"I understand that it can be scary, little dove. But I promise you, nothing will harm you here with me."

He gives you a reassuring smile. Breathing heavily as he speaks, his fingers finding their way to your still quivering entrance which he circled a finger around.

"Besides, my love for you is as pure as the intentions of our God. All we have to do is make love and everything will be alright.”

Mason's finger breached your entrance, slick with something that made it easier to handle, slowly thrusting his finger in and out. He gave you plenty of reassurance and pressed kisses to your thighs and stomach.

“Dove, you must relax, you're still clenching up and tensing up. You'll hurt yourself more than me if you don't relax.” With those words he sunk another finger inside, his free hand pinning your hips down to the bed when he felt you buck upwards.

Mason grunted as he felt your tight heat around his fingers, if you were this tight around his fingers you'd never be able to fully take all of his cock. He didn't want to hurt you more than necessary, not yet at least.

“Sh, sh dove, easy there we go, good little pet.” He murmured as you whimpered and moaned, feeling his fingers hit something inside of you that had you unable to breath. You heaved slightly and looked down at him through tearful eyes.

“M-mason- please- ngh! That feels….. mhm! Good-” You moaned out and let your head drop against the pillows, falling into a dream-like state as you allowed him to continue. “M-more…. Please give me more-”

Mason grinned at your words, a sinister gleam in his eyes before he cooed and slid his fingers out, shushing your confused whines with a simple kiss before he undressed himself and tore your remaining clothes off.

"As our Lord wishes," he whispers between kisses, his voice reverent yet filled with desire.

Mason aligned his cock with your entrance, sliding it through your messy thighs first to coat it before he spread your legs and slowly sunk in.

“P-please, please be mhmph! Gentle, please Mason?” You whimpered softly, eyes locked on him as he looked down at you, mouth drying when he saw your flushed and tear stained cheeks.

Mason looks down at you with tender eyes, his hand running up and down your side soothingly.

"I will take care of you, little dove," he says softly. "I promise."

With a gentle but firm motion, Mason fully enters you, slowly thrusting in and out of your body. His movements are gentle at first, but soon become more passionate as the intensity increases.

As he fucks you, Mason whispers religious phrases to you: "pray to me", "I am your God", "repent for your sins". He continues kissing and caressing every inch of your body, making sure that you are comfortable throughout the entire ordeal. Even as he feels you twitching around his cock, your own fluids covering both his cock and your thighs and stomach. How many orgasms had he wrung from your body? Five? Ten? You lost count.

He's filled you up more times than you can count, you thought he was trying to breed you and knock you up the way he came and came. You couldn't move as you moaned and whimpered, unable to speak much less move and do something about him fucking your sensitive body.

When he's finished, Mason pulls himself out and lays down beside you, holding you close to him. The room is silent except for the sound of breathing as you both catch your breath after Mason seemed to fill you up so much a slight bulge could be seen, you shifted trying to get comfortable yet only felt his cum leaking out your spent hole.

"Sleep now, little dove," he whispers softly into your ear. "We have obeyed our Lord's wishes. Soon enough tomorrow, we will marry and you'll live with me, my perfect little dove who won't have to do anything but obey and listen.”

You fell asleep, cuddled into his side as he looked down at you, a possessive look in his eyes. He'd deal with the consequences of your parents finding you two together in the morning for now, he'd happily hold his little dove and admire the marks he gifted them.

Mason stays awake, holding you close to him throughout the night. As the sun begins to rise and light filters through the window of your private quarters, he kisses your forehead again before getting up.

"I must leave now, little dove," he says quietly. "But know that I am always here for you."

As he dresses in his priestly vestments, Mason turns back to look at you, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Now go back to sleep and rest as much as possible. And remember what we did was pure love. Our wedding will be soon.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips before making his way out of your room and back into the world outside.

#yandere #yandere fic #bunny yaps #yandere oc #priest kink #yandere priest #cult leader #yandere cult #yandere oc x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #bunny writes #yandere x reader

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okiedokrie · 3 months ago

Text

INFERNO

Summary: The witch trials are in full swing, the church ordered for all witches to be burned at the stake. From morning until the night, you pray for those who turned their back against God. But a knock at your door startled you, the church, in desparation, accused you of witchcraft. Only then did you realize that your God has long forsaken you. Now, you make a deal with the Devil.

Characters/Pairing(s): Demon!Joshua X F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror

AUs/Trope info: Demon!AU, Contract Relationship

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: References to witch trials, religious terminologies, literally talking about giving birth to the anti-christ, killing everyone (im being serious), (smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: Dedicated to the ji to my han @nebulousbrainsoup

Smut Warnings: oral (f receiving), slight overstim, taking virginity, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie,

"Halt! You are being seized by the church. You will now confess all your transgressions to the light of the lord." The knights of the holy empire called out to you, that the one day you left the church to purchase food was the day you got accused of dark arts before your peers.

"Wretched witch, pay the price of your sins with blood and tears. Your crimes against our lord will not go unpunished. Come to the break of dawn in a fortnight, you shall burn at the stake as you will in hell."

The metal of the constraints dug into your skin, you aren't sure if the metallic scent in the air was rust, or blood, you couldn't hear the screams of those being tortured over the ringing of your own ears. You pray, this time for your own salvation; but seven days have passed and your god has not come to save you.

Whether it was desperation or disappointment, you couldn't tell. But something pulled you, so magnetic, the darkness that surrounded you was promising vengeance.

The sky grew dark as it was clouded in a tint of red as if the heavens bled for you, but your back is against them now, no god is here to save you.

"A soul most pure, intriguing, very intriguing." A layered voice said, it whispered, screamed, groaned, and moaned. You knew exactly who this was, the lord of darkness himself.

"Tell me, after devoting your life to your God, why have you come to beg for my mercy?" The shadows started to condense, each word was also a step towards you, the shadow now vaguely resembling the figure of a man.

"I beg of you, lord of darkness, spare me mercy for my God has forsaken me, give me salvation, and I will then devote my every hour to you, waking or not." You beg as you fall onto your knees, your skin breaking against the cold stone floor as your nails drag across the dirty floor, the grime building as filth under your nails.

He chuckles, "Let me make one thing clear, you call yourself a devotee, but when you are on the stage that is life, you are first and foremost, an actor." The voice echoed in the chamber you were a prisoner in, and the click of his heeled shoes ticked like a clock, "Good actors hone their craft, to captivate the audience. You may act like a devoted follower of the good lord, but you were promised to be mine. My mother of demons.”

He continued, voices condensing into a sound more fathomable, but still as sinister. “There is a seed of darkness in your purest of souls, feeding on the last of the purity in you. All I have to do is nurture it, and you will be mine.”

The darkness ripples and cracks around you, the air becoming hot, the smell of lightning invades your senses, overbearing, overpowering the reality you were accustomed to.

The voice speaks again, swirling into a deep masculine voice. His voice becoming more palatable to your much too human ears, you mind is no longer straining to comprehend the horror of his diction, “Which is why I will offer you a contract. Give what is most pure of you to me, and I shall protect you, give you the power to burn this earth to the ground, return them to me, and I will promise you a life of bliss by my side."

He steps into the dim red light, you see him now, a man dressed in a black suite that was much too modern for your time, his glowing amber eyes pierced your very heart as the smirk on his plump lips bared his fangs to you. His hand is outstretched to you, black lacquered nails and a glowing purple glyph etched onto the palm of his skin.

"Come now, won't you shake a poor sinner's hand?"

You jump from your place on the floor, grasping his hand, and with a firm shake, you say, "I do, I promise to answer your every beck and call, I will serve you, my lord."

You feel the mark on his palm burn onto yours, the pain was insurmountable, like all the ends of your nerves were burning, pain that you could feel in the very core of your being, but then, bliss.

The contract has been signed, the seal now is to take your purity.

Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti, beatae Mariae semper virgini, beato Michaeli archangelo, sanctis apostolis omnibus sanctis, quia peccavi nimis.

The cathedral bells ring ominously, and a dark red tint paints the sky to warn the people below the heavens that the devil has taken hold of another poor, unfortunate soul.

The choir sang as the church bells rang, another soul lost to the dark hands of the devil. A path of sin paved with blood, sweat, and tears. Solemn was the tone of the town, a young maiden of the nobility embraced the devil himself, lost in his sweet kiss.

You embraced him, your body, mind, and soul now his. In every sense of the word, you gave your life to him. The people mourned and wept for you, their hearts heavy with the weight of this stain, this sin you left for them to bear as you will live forever in the dark bliss of the devil's tongue.

He kissed you passionately, his black heart almost beating for you, cold hands held you delicately, as if the slightest touch would break you, he laid you on the sheet that acted as your bed in this cell.

He trailed his hands slowly, starting from your knees to your thighs, the way his palms ghosted over your skin made goosebumps rise, he hooks his fingers to your draws, pulling the garment from under your skirt and discarding it to an unknown corner of the cell.

He stares down at your heat, golden eyes in a heated stare with your wet pussy, a flower yet to be plucked, dripping with golden honey as the lord of darkness blew the cold air into it.

He placed a delicate kiss to your knee, he was much more delicate than what you’d expect the lord of darkness’s intimate manner would be, trailing equally soft kissed down the length of your thigh to the apex of them, your sex clenching in anticipation.

His forked, long tongue licked a stripe across your heat, collecting your sweet essence on his tongue, he groaned at the contact to your velvet flesh, reveling in the feeling of unbridled lust.

You throw your head back, a coil in your stomach was starting to form was the lord worked his tongue around your folds, stopping occasionally to suckle on your clit, you thread your fingers in his hair, pushing his head closer to your heat in a desperate attempt for more friction.

He continued this gentle but dizzying pace with one goal on his mind, to taste the first and last time this flower tasted so sweet. The coil in your stomach was tightening almost painfully, the pleasure was insurmountable, pressure was building in a way that you never experienced before.

Then the coil snapped.

You throw your head back in a silent scream, your body shivering from the impact of such a powerful orgasm, he continues his ministrations on your heat, only this time avoiding your clit.

He licked your essence off his lips, he discarded his pants somewhere along the time he was between your legs, his firm hands took your legs and threw them over his shoulder, you catch his shoulder,

"Wait!" You plead, "my lord, your name, please give me your name." you say, the dark lord stared at you, but only for a moment.

He stares into your eyes, his amber gaze burning into your memory before he speaks again. "Joshua. Joshua would be more suitable for your human tongue." He said, as he finally entered you.

"Joshua-!" you gasp out, the stretch of his girth deliciously burned, his hard cock dragging into your heat with just friction that it didn't matter how wet you already were.

He rolls his hips in a slow and steady pace, taking in every new expression on your face and sound that you make. He bit his lip, holding back his own noises to savor the sweet sounds falling freely from your lips.

He picks his pace up after he notices you relax more, the force that his hips meet yours made your body rock upwards, shaking from the pressure that was rubbing against your walls.

"I'll breed you, your body, mind, and soul, all mine for the rest of time. I'll plant my seed into you, you'll bare the devil's children, mother of demons. My whore for all eternity." He breathed out, ragged from the force he was thrusting into you, you could only feel the rapid thumping of your heart over the ringing in your ears, your head was pleasantly empty, the only thoughts in your head was the delicious drag of his cock into you.

"Oh- Joshua-! It feels so good, oh- I feel it-!" You moan out, although you aren't sure if that's exactly what you said, for all you know, it could've just been babbling noises.

"Yes, cum around my cock, cream on it and milk it for it for all it's worth." he groans out, clearly also close to his release, his grip on your hips, dark talons digging into the skin and drawing blood.

Another coil snaps in you, this time, much more powerful. You can fill a surge of dark power being absorbed into you at the same time Joshua spills his seed into you, this dark force was hot, it felt like you had the power of a god swirling inside of you.

Out of breathe, Joshua looks at you, "by the break of dawn, you will no longer be human. Let the sleep take you, my dear, for the next time you awaken, your final waking place will be all of the new world. I promise you that."

He said as he placed a searing kiss to your forehead.

By the time the sun rose again, all the strength you had lost from being imprisoned here had not only returned to you, but you were now stronger, the dark flame burning under your skin fueled your anger, and an unholy boiling boils beneath the surface.

The cell, the dungeon, all the king's men, all the king's subjects, and the king himself, will not escape your inferno.

The only throne left standing is the one where Joshua sits, ruling over the sinners of the old world with you by his side.

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lightfromthelighthouse · 3 months ago

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Good Morning!☀

The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. Psalms 18:2

David wrote Psalm 18 after years of being on the run from King Saul, whom he had the opportunity to kill on two occasions but refused to do so. He understood that God would elevate him to the throne in his own time and way. God did so and also gave him victory over all his enemies, not just Saul.

Through today's verse, we get a glimpse of what God had been to David during those years. What an awesome list! Yet, had not David gone through the persecution that he had, he probably would not have come to know God in this way. Through his needs, David came to know God as his foundation, his rock. He found God to be his protection surrounding him. In his escapes from Saul he he found God to be his deliverer.

Out of the so-called gods that were being worshipped in that day, David declared that the Lord, the one true God, was his God. He had no doubt who his source, supply, and support was. He goes on to tell of other ways God had shown care and support of him.

David had gone through great trials and battles. Through those experiences, God progressively revealed himself to David and David rightly gave God praise for the victory.

If you identify with David and testify that God has been these same things to you, take some time today to thank and praise him. Then do like David did and tell somebody about it!

#The LORD is my #The LORD is my refuge #The LORD is my rock #the lord is my light and salvation #The LORD is my fortress

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doumadono · 3 months ago

Text

Warnings: dark ending, smut, exhibitionism, blood, overstimulation, p in v, creampie, death

Summary: as the high priestess, you lead a ritual to summon the powerful King of Curses, offering your body and soul as a willing sacrifice, only to meet your inevitable demise at the hands of the very deity you revere

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

The torches crackled and hissed in their sconces, bathing the ancient temple in flickering light and casting shadows that danced across the walls. Your heart pounded against your ribs like a caged animal, the anticipation making your palms sweat as you stood in front of the altar, your fingers fumbling slightly with the crimson silk robe draped over your shoulders. You weren’t supposed to be nervous, not when you had performed similar rituals countless times before - but tonight was different.

Around you, the other believers swayed in unison, their eyes closed, their lips moving in fervent, whispered chants. Their voices rose and fell, a symphony of devotion that vibrated through your bones, a palpable force that seemed to draw power from the very air itself. You could feel it - thrumming through your veins, wrapping around your heart, filling your lungs until every breath you took felt heavy with anticipation.

Tonight, you were calling upon the King of Curses himself.

"Brothers, sisters," you called out, your voice commanding yet gentle, a whisper that carried power, "tonight, we offer ourselves to him. Our bodies, our souls - everything belongs to our Lord Sukuna."

Your words were met with a chorus of whispered agreements, their voices merging into one, an endless, hypnotic hum that resonated through the chamber. You took a step forward, the hem of your crimson robes trailing across the cold stone. You could feel it - a rising tide of energy that thrummed beneath your feet, creeping up your legs, twisting around your spine like a serpent.

The silk robe draped over your shoulders was barely a barrier, translucent, whisper-thin, catching the dim light of the torches and clinging to the curves of your body. It was the only thing shielding you from the eyes of other believers. As you moved, it slid against your skin like a lover’s touch, revealing glimpses of bare flesh, the swell of your hips, the curve of your breasts and the perky nipples that hardened due to the cold air in the chamber.

You had studied ancient texts, whispered tales passed down through generations, and listened to the trembling voices of elders. They spoke of a creature, a god-like demon, who could bring salvation or damnation with a flick of his wrist. And you needed him. You needed his power, his strength, to protect what was left of your home from the relentless enemy forces that threatened to devour everything you loved.

Your master had always warned you that summoning such a powerful entity could be dangerous. In fact, most would consider it sheer madness. But you had practiced, studied, and prepared every day for this moment. And the time had finally come.

You took a deep breath, pushing the doubts and fear from your mind. The ritual demanded absolute confidence, unwavering faith, and total submission. "Great Ryomen Sukuna," you began, your voice strong despite the fear coursing through your veins, "I call upon you, the one true King of Curses, to grace us with your presence. We offer our devotion, our loyalty, and our souls as tribute."

The wind seemed to howl in response, the flames of the torches flickering more violently as if acknowledging your words.

There was no turning back now.

You repeated the incantation, your tone growing more fervent, your body swaying with the rhythm of the ancient words.

The wind howled around you stronger, rustling your hair and the hem of your ceremonial robe. With trembling fingers, you took the knife from the altar, its blade gleaming in the moonlight. "O, King of Curses," you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath, "I offer you my blood, my flesh, my soul. Come forth and answer our call."

Without hesitation, you sliced across your palm, the sting sharp but brief. Blood welled up and dripped onto the cracked stone altar, seeping into the ancient symbols you had painstakingly carved into its surface. The ground trembled beneath you, as though the earth itself recognized the power you sought to unleash.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, the wind died down, the air becoming unnervingly still, and a sense of dread settled over you like a thick, suffocating blanket. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt an overwhelming presence, one that pressed against your very soul and made your body ache with fear.

From the back of the altar, a shadow stirred, a darkness so thick it seemed to swallow the flickering torchlight. The air grew heavy, stifling, and a hush fell over the temple as the believers knelt lower, trembling in anticipation. From the depths of that black void, a figure emerged - slowly, deliberately, as though he had all the time in the world to make his presence known.

Sukuna emerged from the darkness, his presence suffocating, overwhelming. He towered over all, a god among mortals, cloaked in light, flowing robes that barely concealed the powerful form beneath. His muscular body, honed and perfect, moved with the grace of a predator, every step deliberate, echoing with the weight of his authority. His skin was pale, but not with any human fragility - it was alabaster, almost ethereal, in contrast to the black, intricate markings that wound across his chest, arms, and neck. Those tattoos, like dark serpents, seemed to shift with the flickering light, symbols of his immense power and ancient origins, each line coiling and twisting like chains of darkness binding the god of curses.

But it was his face that captured you - the sight of him, fully revealed. His hair, a wild, chaotic pinkish-red hue, framed his angular features, strands catching in the torchlight like flames burning in the night. The color was unnatural, vibrant, a stark contrast to the coldness of his expression. His sharp jawline and high cheekbones gave him an undeniable, cruel beauty, a face that seemed carved by the gods themselves for the sole purpose of commanding and conquering.

His eyes, though - those were what ensnared you. Crimson and burning with an unholy light, they bore into you with terrifying intensity, gleaming with malevolence and ancient hunger. Four of them, two set above the other, creating a gaze that felt impossible to escape, as if they saw through everything - your soul, your mind, your very existence laid bare before him.

Two pairs of arms remained folded across his chest, the motion languid, casual, as though he had all the time in the world. His hands, adorned with black markings like the rest of his body, exuded a dangerous aura, as though each movement was capable of bending reality itself to his will.

His gaze swept over the temple, pausing only when it found you. Beneath the thin silk robe draped over your naked form, your skin prickled under his scrutiny. His eyes lingered, dark amusement playing in the depths of his four crimson orbs. His lips curled into a cruel, knowing smile, a smirk that told you he had seen this moment long before you had ever whispered his name. "Well," Sukuna's voice was deep, resonating with the power of an ancient god. "It’s been a long time since anyone dared to summon me in such a way. I thought all of my worshippers had been swallowed by the sands of time. And yet here you are, kneeling before me like a lamb to the slaughter, sacrificing yourself so willingly, little priestess.”

You swallowed hard, willing yourself not to tremble under his scrutiny. "I am here to serve you, my Lord Sukuna," you uttered, bowing deeply until your forehead nearly touched the stone floor. "I have dedicated my life to you, and I wish to offer myself as your vessel. I am yours to command."

Sukuna's laugh was harsh, echoing through the chamber like thunder. "Is that so? And what makes you think that you, a mere mortal, could be worthy of serving me?"

"I have prepared for this moment my entire life," you answered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "I am willing to give you everything - my body, my soul, my very existence - if it pleases you, my Lord."

"Hmmm." Sukuna stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as they roamed over your form. You could feel the heat radiating from him, a tangible aura of power that made your skin tingle. He towered over you, the sheer presence of him enough to make you feel like an insect beneath his heel. "Stand," he ordered, and you obeyed, rising to your feet with as much grace as you could muster.

He reached out with one of his many hands, the claws grazing your cheek, drawing a single line of blood. He observed the crimson droplet with a glint of amusement before pressing his thumb to your lips. "Lick it," he commanded, and without hesitation, you parted your lips, your tongue darting out to taste the coppery tang of your own blood.

"Interesting," Sukuna mused, watching you with a predatory intensity. "You do not cower or flinch. Are you not afraid of me, little priestess?"

"I am," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But my fear is nothing compared to my desire to serve you, my Lord."

His laughter reverberated through the temple once more, and this time, you could sense a hint of genuine amusement beneath the mockery. "Very well. Let’s see if you can truly entertain me."

In a blink, Sukuna's fingers curled around your throat, lifting you off your feet as if you weighed nothing.

You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping his wrist, but you didn’t struggle. You couldn’t - wouldn’t.

He brought you closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Do you know what happens to those who disappoint me?" he whispered, his tone dark and laced with malice.

"No, my Lord," you replied, your voice choked but unwavering.

"They die," he mused simply, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Painfully. Slowly. And I enjoy every second of it."

He released you, and you crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. But even in the face of such raw power, you felt no regret. You pushed yourself back up onto your knees, bowing your head. "I will not disappoint you, my Lord," you promised.

"Prove it," Sukuna growled, gesturing toward the altar. "Strip."

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the sash of your robe, but you obeyed, letting the silk slide from your shoulders to pool around your feet. You stood before him, naked and vulnerable, feeling the weight of his gaze as it roamed over every inch of your body.

Despite your nakedness exposed to the cold air of the temple and the eyes of the other believers kneeling around you, you felt no shame, no fear. Their gazes, if they dared to lift their heads from the stone floor, meant nothing in the grandness of this moment. You had prepared for this - body, mind, and soul. Each prayer, each offering, every ritual bath had cleansed you of doubt, stripped you of earthly concerns. Your purpose was singular, unwavering. It wasn’t their eyes that mattered; only his. You stood bare not only in flesh but in spirit, ready to fulfill the sacred role of high priestess, ready to meet the eyes of the god you had summoned. This was the moment you had waited for, and no mortal gaze could shake your resolve.

Sukuna took his time, savoring the sight of you, and a dark chuckle escaped his lips. "Such a delicate little thing," he murmured, almost as if to himself. "I wonder how long you'll last before you break."

He approached you, each step sending a jolt of electricity through the air, and with a flick of his wrist, you were laid out on the altar, your back against the cool stone. The sensation was jarring, but you didn’t dare protest.

Sukuna’s hands traced the length of your body, his touch both gentle and brutal as he gripped the plush of your skin occasionally as if he were mapping out all the ways he could destroy you. His smile widened, revealing sharp, pointed teeth that gleamed in the dim light. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his mouth claiming yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You could feel his other hands moving, one pinning your wrists above your head, another spreading your legs wide for him, and the last caressing the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing out a shiver that left you weak.

He played with your hard nipples a bit, then reached up and stuck a finger in your mouth.

You sucked on it for a second, and then the king of curses pulled it out and smeared the wetness on your left nipple.

Once it was wet, he blew on it, and it hardened even further.

You moaned softly, sucking your lower lip into your mouth, rubbing your thighs together.

He parted your legs unceremoniously.

As his fingers brushed against your pussy lips, you gasped, your body instinctively reacting to the sensation. "Please…" you begged, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

"Please, what?" Sukuna taunted, nipping at your lower lip, drawing blood and drinking it willingly. "You’ll need to be more specific, little priestess."

"Please, take me," you pleaded, the desperation evident in your voice. "Make me yours, my Lord Sukuna."

Sukuna’s grin was feral, and without warning, he thrust two fingers inside you despite the resistance of your tight pussy, making you cry out in both pleasure and pain. "Such a pretty little thing," he cooed mockingly. "So eager to be ruined." He moved his fingers with a deliberate slowness, savoring every reaction, every gasp, and moan that escaped your lips while his thumb brushed over your clit.

It was overwhelming: the heat, the sensation, the knowledge that you were entirely at his mercy. Your legs were already trembling like leaves on the cold autumn wind. You writhed beneath him, your body straining against the hold of his hand on your wrists, and he watched you with those crimson eyes, drinking in your every movement.

"Beg," Sukuna commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Beg for me, and I might consider being gentle."

"Please," you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Please, my Lord. I want you. I need you."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through your very bones. "Very well," he purred, "I’ll grant you your wish." He pushed his white hakama pants down his muscular legs, revealing the monstrous size of his member. His cockhead bounced back firmly against his toned abdomen, an audible slap as flesh met flesh. He slowly jerked himself several times, watching you writhing in anticipation, gently playing with your breasts as you looked him right in his crimson eyes. His cock got rock hard nearly instantly. Ryomen positioned himself at your entrance, and with a single, brutal thrust, he filled you completely, the angry, red tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he settled himself within your wetness.

You cried out, arching off the altar, your fingers digging into the stone as he began to move, each thrust harder, faster, and more demanding than the last.

The pain was there, sharp and searing, but it was drowned out by the pleasure, the feeling of being completely and utterly claimed by the King of Curses. "You belong to me now," Sukuna growled, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck after he leaned in. "You’ll serve me, obey me, worship me until the day you die."

"Yes," you gasped, clinging to him, feeling your release building, the heat coiling tighter and tighter within your abdomen. "Yes, my Lord, always."

Sukuna's laughter was the last thing you heard before he drove you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure so intense it felt as though you might shatter. And as you fell apart in his arms, the only thought that lingered in your mind was that you were finally his.

The world around you blurred as your body quivered beneath Sukuna’s relentless assault, every nerve alight with sensation.

His nails - sharp and jagged - scraped across your skin, leaving thin red lines in their wake. He grope your breasts, squeezing them between his calloused digits, brushing the nipples with the pads of his thumbs. "You're so fragile," Sukuna murmured, almost as if in awe as he kept of fucking your already overstimulated pussy. "So breakable. Yet you begged for this. Tell me, does it hurt?" He improved your position and hoisted your legs up onto his muscular shoulders. Sukuna began a fierce pounding, hammering away from the start.

"Y-Yes," you stammered, your voice hoarse from screaming, from crying out his name. "But it feels so good. My pussy is so sore, my Lord!”

He chuckled darkly, leaning in close until his breath ghosted across the column of your neck. "That's because you belong to me now, little priestess," he whispered, each word a venomous promise. "I will make you mine over and over again until there is nothing left of you but a shell that worships my very existence."

After abruptly pulling out of you, he flipped you over, dropping you on all fours. He quickly positioned himself behind you, his fat, swollen, cockhead pressed against your wet needy pussy so hard it almost forced you open.

Grabbing your hips, his rough fingers digging into your fleshy hips that supported your fat fuckable ass, he threw himself toward. The power of his thrust would've forced you off the altar if not for Sukuna holding you in place. Your entire body surged forward as a cock too big to take was forced into you with unstoppable strength. Sukuna’s hand shot to grab your hair and pull you head back, arching your back against his chest as he kept on slamming into the tightness of your core. His other hand moved to wrap tightly around your neck.

The muscles in his arms bulged as he quickened his pace, slamming into you with a force that sent shockwaves through your sweaty body. ''There will be no breaks for you tonight, little whore of mine. I want to fuck this fucking cunt of yours non-stop, do you understand?”

You gave a nod and made a quiet sound, and Sukuna pushed his cock in deeper, making you squeal a muffled cry as you bit on your lower lip, drawing blood from the flesh.

The wet slamming of your bodies filled the huge chamber.

You couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but feel him. The sensation of his heat, his strength, and his utter dominance was enough to drive you to madness.

Soon, you were flipped on your back again, and immediately his massive cock pushed back into your abused pussy. His eyes burned with violent lust, yours were filled with a satisfaction like you'd just achieved your life's work.

One of his free hands moved up, tangling in your hair, jerking your head back so that you were forced to look into his eyes. Those crimson orbs gleamed with sadistic pleasure, reflecting the flickering flames around you, and you were certain you'd never seen anything more terrifying or beautiful in your life. "Say it," Sukuna commanded, his voice ragged. "Say that you belong to me."

"I… I belong to you," you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks, the rawness of your voice echoing in the chamber. "I am yours, my Lord Sukuna." You took immense pleasure in being watched by the other believers. Your body, already beautiful on its own, became a sight to behold when joined by Sukuna's presence.

The satisfaction in his expression was palpable, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as much a claim as it was a punishment. He kissed you with the same brutal intensity that he took you, his tongue invading your mouth, leaving no room for resistance, no space for doubt. His other mouth, placed on his abdomen decided to have some fun too, so the slimy tongue darted out to lap at your clitoris.

You felt the pressure building again, that unbearable coil tightening in your core, threatening to snap at any moment. "Please!" you gasped, your nails digging into his skin, your body arching against him in a desperate attempt to bring him even closer. "Please, my Lord, let me… let me…!"

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip tightening painfully on your wrists. "You will not come until I allow it. Do you understand?"

You nodded frantically, the desperation evident in every fiber of your being. "Y-Yes, my Lord.”

"Good," Sukuna purred, thrusting harder, deeper, his movements growing more erratic, more frenzied. The sound of your flesh meeting echoed in the chamber, mingling with your ragged breaths and the low growls that rumbled from his chest. And still, he denied you, holding you on the precipice of pleasure, refusing to let you fall over that edge. His dick brushed all of the right spots deep within your pussy, and since you were dripping wet at that point, some of your juices were pushed out of you by his massive length.

"Please…" you whimpered, your entire body trembling, your mind unraveling as you teetered on the brink. "I can't… I can’t…"

"Beg," he demanded, and the cruelty in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "Beg me for your release."

"Please, my Lord Sukuna," you sobbed, your voice breaking, your vision blurring as the tears streamed down your face. "Please, I beg you. I need it. I need you."

For a moment, he said nothing, merely watching you with that infuriatingly calm expression, his crimson eyes glowing with a light that seemed to come from another world. And then, without warning, he drove into you one final time, his body tensing, muscles rippling as he found his own release, spilling his thick, warm cum within you in nearly five massive spurts. The sensation was overwhelming, like fire spreading through your veins, igniting every nerve, every cell in your body. Slowly he withdrew the whole length of his cock and jerked himself while he kept on spraying thick liquid all over your helpless body. He covered your abdomen in hot cum until you were completely drenched in white, sticky goo. "Now," he growled, his voice rough and ragged. "Now, you may come."

It was all the permission you needed. The coil snapped, and you shattered, your body convulsing, waves of pleasure crashing over you in an endless, merciless torrent. You screamed, your voice hoarse and raw, the sound echoing through the temple, mingling with Sukuna’s own guttural groans as he continued to pound you, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your trembling form, not minding the hot tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. You shuddered in orgasm, cumming just from looking from under your half-closed eyelids, and imagining your Lord Sukuna fucking you again. "My body was made for you, my Lord.”

You were dimly aware of his hands on your body, caressing you, grounding you as you slowly came down from that euphoric high. Your vision blurred, your body limp, utterly spent, and you collapsed against the altar, unable to do anything but lie there, gasping for breath.

Sukuna’s fingers traced lazy patterns across your skin, and despite the roughness, there was a gentleness to his touch now, a possessiveness that made your heart flutter. "You did well," he murmured, his tone almost tender. "You pleased your lord."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Thank you, my Lord," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard it.

He smirked, leaning down to capture your lips once more, this time in a kiss that was slow, lingering, a silent acknowledgment of what you had just shared. Looking directly at where you were connected, Sukuna pulled his semi-hard cock out of you, grinning like a kid while watching how your mixed cum dribbled out of your reddened, abused hole. He scooped some on the pad of his index finger and took a closer look at the slimy, pearly white liquid slowly streaming down his digit. He pushed his finger past his parted lips, tasting himself and you on his tongue. “Such a delicious, little lamb,” he praised within a grunt that rumbled deep in his chest.

His fingers still traced across your skin, but their touch now carried a different weight.

You sensed the shift immediately, though your body, still dazed from the euphoria, struggled to react.

“Such a good little lamb,” he mused, his voice low and silky. “But even the most loyal lambs must be sacrificed.”

Your breath caught in your throat, but your body was too weak, too drained to move. You had known from the start what this ritual would cost you. You had prepared for it, accepted it. And yet, as you lay beneath him, his shadow swallowing you whole, that acceptance turned to a quiet, desperate hope for more - more time, more moments, more of him.

His hand wrapped around your throat with deceptive gentleness, his grip firm but not yet cruel. Sukuna leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ve served your purpose,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And now, you’ll give me one final gift.”

A flash of panic surged through your exhausted body, but it was too late. His fingers tightened, cutting off your air, and his crimson eyes glowed with an almost loving intensity as he watched the life slowly being drained from yours. You clawed weakly at his wrist, but there was no malice in his actions - only inevitability.

As the darkness crept in, your vision narrowing to a pinpoint, Sukuna pressed one last kiss to your forehead. “Rest now,” he murmured, his voice soothing, as if he were putting you to sleep rather than ending your life. “You’ve earned it, satisfying your lord.”

The world dimmed, your body going limp as your final breath left you. The last thing you saw was his cruel, satisfied smile, and then - then was pure nothingness.

The temple fell silent, save for the distant murmur of the remaining believers, aware that their high priestess had become nothing more than a sacrifice, her blood and soul claimed by the king of curses.

As Sukuna’s laughter echoed through the vast temple, the gathered believers knelt in silent terror again. Their faces, once filled with awe and reverence, were now twisted in fear. They had witnessed the culmination of the ritual, the ultimate sacrifice of their high priestess - the one who had led them, who had spoken the will of their dark god. And now, she lay still, her lifeless body draped across the altar, pale and motionless, while Sukuna stood over her, drenched in the eerie glow of the temple’s firelight.

Some of the followers dared to look up, trembling, their eyes wide with horror. The sight of Sukuna towering above her was both majestic and terrifying - a god who had claimed his offering without hesitation or remorse. The air hung heavy with the smell of incense and the iron tang of blood, a solemn testament to the price of their devotion.

One brave soul, trembling with fear, took a step back, his face pale. Others followed, their belief shaken as they witnessed the brutal truth of the god they had summoned. Whispers broke out, hushed and frantic, the terror rising in their chests as they realized that if even their high priestess could fall to Sukuna’s insatiable hunger, then none of them were safe.

Sukuna turned his gaze on them, his crimson eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement, and in an instant, the whispering ceased. Every believer froze in place, their hearts racing as they cowered under his piercing stare.

"Frightened, are we?" he drawled, his voice low and mocking, sending a chill down their spines. His presence was overwhelming, dominating the space as he stepped away from your lifeless form, leaving it to rest as though it were nothing more than a discarded toy.

He scanned the kneeling figures, a smirk playing on his lips. "You shall be," he continued, his tone dripping with cruel satisfaction. "What did you think would happen when you called upon me? That I would take, and not demand more?"

The fear in their eyes only seemed to amuse him further. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his bare feet silent against the stone floor, but every movement radiated power. "This is what it means to serve me," he said, his voice a dangerous purr, each word like a blade slicing through the tense silence. "To give everything. Your bodies, your souls, your lives."

He paused, his gaze narrowing, daring any of them to defy him. None did. "But take heart," he added, almost teasing, his tone shifting as though speaking to children. "Your devotion has pleased me. You live, for now. Consider yourselves fortunate, mortals."

A dark chuckle escaped his throat. “Continue to worship me," Sukuna claimed, his voice turning cold. "But remember - this is the price. When your time comes, there will be no mercy."

With that final, ominous warning, Sukuna turned away from them, disappearing into the shadows that had birthed him, leaving his followers trembling in his wake.

The oppressive silence returned, broken only by the faint crackling of the temple’s torches and some quiet sobs, as the believers remained frozen in place, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

In the center of the altar, your body lay still, a solemn reminder of the fate that awaited those who dared to summon the King of Curses.

#sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk smut #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna #dark content #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #smutty fanfiction #divider by cafekitsune

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thewordfortheday · 2 months ago

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The LORD is my light and my salvation-- whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life-- of whom shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1

There are times in our life when it feels like we live in a world full of darkness. Although much of the world is lost in darkness, there is a Light. David claims that God is his light, his salvation and his strength in this journey on the path of life. Notice how personal David makes it … my light … my salvation … strength of my life. There are times we think we do not have the strength to make it or to go on. David is pointing us to God, He is our strength but more importantly as the main source of everything pertaining to life, lighting our path when the way ahead seems dreary and dark. Who is the source of your strength? If God is, you don’t have to be afraid. He will see you through any and every situation.

#bible verse #daily devotional #christian quotes #bible quotes #inspiration #daily devotion #christian quote #christian life #scripture #bible #salvation #light

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khuzena · 2 months ago

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Fable

Pairing: Sunday x gn!reader

cw: themes of religion, emotional turmoil, mental health struggles, sin and redemption.

Synopsis: In a world engulfed with sin, Sunday feels as if there's no difference between him and the lowly sinners he preaches to. A stark irony in his thoughts and the cross that lay heavy on his chest, a preacher of Aeon Xipe, yet a damned fool that longs for a sinner. He offers redemption as if it's cheap since it only asks faith as its payment. However, the sinner he longs for has no ounce of faith in their soul. In the end, he could only sing praises— if only attaining salvation was so easy.

A/N: GUESS WHO'S BACK (no one remembers me) but I'm here to deliver angst anyways bc fuck this shit. My writing is shitty so bear with me. :(((

“Repent, sinner.” Sunday whispered as he held your hand, “Repent.”

"Sunday— let go” you drawled, voice dripping with shame. You leaned against the wall, the smoke from your cigarette curling lazily through the dim air, mingling with the stale scent of cheap perfume and old upholstery. The brothel was alive with murmured laughter and low music, the worn-out couches and faded curtains casting long shadows in the flickering amber light. Your skin was drenched in sweat, your head riddled in shame as your clothes lay bare on the floor. You've just finished servicing a client yet Sunday's invaded unknown territory; to save you, maybe.

The priest’s eyes swept the room, narrowing as if each detail confirmed his worst suspicions. His mouth twisted in a thin line of disgust as he clutched his Bible close to his chest, as if bracing himself against the "unclean" aura around him. The expression in his eyes was soft, painful—a thousand sermons held back by a single withering look.

“Please,” he said, voice clipped. “You know this isn't the answer— it's never too late.”

“Just go,” you replied, frowning without your usual certain devil-may-care charm. You let sin consume you, as it's all you've ever known. “But you’re right, Father. It's never too late for others but I'm a lost cause.”

You trail off, the musky aroma of carnal desire in the room intoxicating his ‘pure’ soul, “You're gonna save me? With what, exactly? A sermon? A confession?”

“Redemption.” He said the word as if it could wash the room clean. “Even someone like you—someone who parades their sin as if it’s a crown—you could still be saved. Even now.”

You laughed, the sound echoing off the peeling walls, more haunting than humorous. “Saved? By what, exactly? A few Hail Marys and a scolding?” You looked him up and down, that faint amusement never leaving your eyes. “Maybe I’m not the one who needs saving. Ever thought of that?”

Sunday's face darkened, his fingers tracing the edge of his Bible like it was a weapon rather than a shield. “You speak of kindness, yet you live without a shred of humility or grace. Do you really think there’s peace in… in this?” He gestured around the room, lips curling in contempt. “All I see is emptiness masquerading as freedom.”

Your eyes narrowed, your smile fading. “Freedom?” You flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching it drift to the floor like grey snowflakes. “Tell me, Father, when was the last time you felt free?” You crawled to him as he sat on the stained sheets, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath, the faint scent of smoke and cheap perfume mixing with the cold edge of his cologne. “You clutch that Bible like it’s a cage, not a comfort. You come here, looking down on us from your self-righteous mountain, but you’re the one running. From what, exactly?”

He stiffened, the muscles in his jaw tightening as if you’d struck a nerve. “I serve the Lord,” he said, voice quivering with a mixture of conviction and something darker, something unsettled. “I bring light to places that have forgotten it. I offer hope to the lost.”

You smirked, unbothered. “Hope, is it? Funny, you seem more scared than hopeful. You think that because I don’t kneel and grovel that I must be empty, but I don’t need your god to tell me right from wrong. I may be a ‘sinner’ in your eyes, but I don’t preach peace and then threaten damnation. I help the lost here, too, in my own way—without the guilt. And without shame.”

For a moment, his composure slipped, a crack appearing in the stone-cold mask he wore. He looked at you—really looked at you—as if seeing past the lipstick and the smoke to something rawer, something he couldn’t name.

“Kindness without repentance is hollow,” he muttered, almost to himself, fingers ghosting over the cross around his neck. His eyes betray his actions, he can't admit that he loves a sinner like you.

“And blind faith without understanding is cruelty,” you shot back, your voice like a knife through the heavy air. “You think kindness is something you hand down from on high, something earned by prayers and purity. But look around, Father. These people don’t need sermons. They need food, a place to sleep—a little mercy, not lectures.”

He opened his mouth, as if to counter, but words seemed to fail him. Instead, his face twisted, half pity, half frustration. “I’ll… pray for you.”

A dry laugh escapes you, a hollow sound in the oppressive quiet. “Pray for yourself, Father. You’re the one who seems lost here.”

“I just want to save you,” He reiterates, his eyes gleaming with desperation, “Please, just repent. There's always a place for you in the church”

An airy scoff escapes your lips as you smack his hand away, “A place for me? A place for a sin laden person like me?”

A pregnant silence filled the room, he clutched the cross on his neck. There must be an answer, and if there isn't, he'll make you one. His free hand reaches into his pocket, you feel a beaded bracelet rest onto your wrist. It's heavy, so heavy.

“What are you doing to me?”

“I just want to save you,” his hands trembled in sync with the flickering candle light, “Just listen to me.”

“Stop, stop—” no matter how many times you plead him to stop acting so pathetic, he implores mercy for you. The sacred bracelet on your wrist is a testament to his love and his faith— one you could never share.

Sunday vowed himself to never step into the walls of pleasure as they're the home to lust, they're home to fools who seek salvation in sex. Yet, he's here. He's here to seek salvation for you. He brought Xipe’s presence into the home of the devil, in hopes to coerce you to the brighter side.

His presence in this brothel feels like an enigma, he doesn't belong here.

“I don't want you to rot in hell,” he trails off, kissing your knuckles, “I’ve never felt this before— Xipe owns my body, my soul.”

Why does his touch feel so addicting compared to the touches of far fairer men than him?

His wings droop onto his shoulders, your clothes on the floor reflecting on his shiny halo but he doesn't budge. He doesn't want to leave you here, he knows your heart is kind, yet your body's defiled— he’s determined that he'll cleanse you, he'll cleanse you of this sin.

He presses his lips again to your knuckles, “Why do you have to be so difficult?” He mutters to himself as his sacred tears paint your tainted skin.

Xipe may own every fibre of his being, but you've taken his very soul, you've stolen it with every scornful laugh, every unrepentant sin. THEY have save you, THEY need to save you—

However, when he stares back into the abyss in your eyes, he knows you're long forsaken by their blessings.

When you don't recite the verses escaping his lips, he realises you're a lost cause.

Please, Xipe. Please do something about them—

If that's not enough, he's brought jar filled with ash.

“That's enough Sunday—”

“It's not.”

His words sunk low as he turned more desperate than a man faced with death. For you to die and rot in hell is death in itself.

You should run away, you should push him away.

You should throw him back to the cathedral he preaches in.

But a part of you wants saving.

A part of you long to be in the same world he is, in body and soul and in every prayer recited.

But you can’t.

With trembling hands, Sunday brought his fingers to the jar of ash he'd clutched as if it held the very essence of Xipe himself. His touch was reverent, fingers dipping into the blackened dust as he leaned forward, his face a mask of fevered determination. His breath was ragged, each exhale brushing against your skin like a ghost's touch, hovering close as he traced the symbol of harmony on your forehead.

The ash was cold and heavy against your skin, spreading like a dark stain over the sweat still clinging to you from moments before. Sunday’s fingers shook as he sketched each line, each curve, his brows furrowing as if with each stroke he could carve Xipe’s mercy into your very soul. His lips moved soundlessly, chanting prayers, pleading with his god to see you—to reach you. His eyes glistened, holding a desperation so raw it felt as though he were laying his soul bare with every brush of his fingers.

"Please," he whispered, voice breaking as he drew the final stroke, his forehead pressed against yours, the rough ash between you a stark reminder of the worlds that kept you apart. "Please, let this save you." His eyes searched yours, wild with a hope he couldn’t contain, pleading with a faith that was beginning to crumble as he realized that even this sacred act, this final attempt to offer you salvation, might still leave you beyond his reach.

You're still a sinner through and through.

Sunday’s fingers lingered, almost frozen against your skin as he stared at the dark symbol he’d left, the weight of it so heavy it felt like it would pull you both under. His breaths came uneven, shallow, as he fought against the reality sinking in—that his desperate plea might not reach you, that this sacred symbol he’d etched might be nothing more than a stain.

His hand drifted to your cheek, thumb tracing the faint smudge of ash, as though hoping to rub it deeper, to make it part of you in some way that went beyond flesh and bone. His eyes were wet, glistening with the weight of unspoken prayers, with the terror of a man standing on the brink of faith and despair.

“I love you— I want you.”

“Then want me.”

‘Want me without fear’ - what you should've said.

He shakes his head, swallowing. “I can’t. To want you… to touch you? I’d lose everything.” Each word is a knife, cutting through the heavy air between you.

“Then why are you here?” you murmur, your voice laced with disbelief, the irony palpable in the dim light. A saint in sacred clothing before a madonna whore.

“Because you’re worth saving.” His eyes are fierce, but they tremble.

You laugh bitterly. “Even if I don’t want it?”

“It’s not just for you!” His grip tightens around your hands, desperation bleeding into his voice. “I need to believe… that you can be saved, that I can—” He falters, his eyes darkening. “What if I’m here because I’m as damned as you?”

“Then maybe you should let go of salvation.”

His wings flutter as sobs wreck his soul. Why can't THEY save you too? Why does he have to live with the idea that you'll rot— that he can't do anything about it?

And as he kneels before you, his lips brushing over your knuckles in a final, desperate kiss, he prays—more for himself than for you.

"I’ve seen hell, and it’s not the one you think," you murmur, voice low, yet biting. "It’s in the way you look at me—like I’m nothing but a sin."

A flash of pain crosses his face, mingling with the flicker of understanding that never quite settles. Anxiety tightens his grip on your hand as he absorbs your words, though he’ll never truly understand them. He opens his mouth, but only silence falls—a prayer unsaid, a salvation he’s not even sure he can give.

His gaze drops, lingering on the thin sheet covering you like a veil over desecration, and he looks away, ashamed yet bound.

He leans in, lips hovering just above yours—a kiss he tells himself is selfless.

“I'll pray for you."

I'll forgive you.

Note: BYE BER MONTHS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK— I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED PROGRESS OF MY WIP FICS AND I WAS IN TEARS AND JS CRASHED OUT. IM BACK BC GIGI PEREZ JS MADE ME WRIT EGAIAN

special mention: @whyiseveryname-taken bro I'm still ariting abt that angst jing yuan fic btw if u still remember 😈

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡

#hsr sunday x reader #hsr sunday #sunday fluff #honkai star rail sunday #sunday x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr fluff #hsr angst #sunday angst #honkai star rail angst #sunday smut #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail #what have i done

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