#theme of sin

[danielleurbansblog]

Review: Love the Sinner

Synopsis: According to Dante, a sin is the misdirection of love – the human will, or essentially, the direction of our beings. Love the Sinner is an examination of just how those sins can kaleidoscope into horrific consequences creating a distorted and deadly landscape. These stories stand stark before you in full glaring misstep and macabre to show the human psyche in all its twisted…

[cloudedcreams]

thinking of a yandere! character who's recently become self aware.

hearts of favour, it was a charming game. with a stunning art-style and multiple love interests. there was nothing about the game that didn't enchant you, and so with such naivety you spent days piled in front of your computer. the love interests seemed intriguing enough, but not compared to him.

cindy.

his character was generally upbeat, but contrasted with a soft voice that practically sounded like a lullaby. you searched through his character profile, finding yourself slightly disappointed at the lack of mention towards his voice actor, but tried to avoid being too saddened by the fact.

more than anything, what interested you the most about his character was his strong sense of moral justice. he was driven by religion, but he seemed to be the only character in the game to ever bring up the concept of God. he spoke of them personally as if they were a friend more than anything, but many times he seemed to be unsure himself, switching the gender he addressed them as and going silent when you prompted your character to ask.

over time it was revealed that his concept of God was one that he shared truly alone. other characters cared little for him and viewed him as odd, and his religious thoughts were based purely on his own perception, rather than influenced by the beliefs of others.

his descent towards reality was faith based.

more than anything, he yearned for confirmation in his thoughts. he prayed the room he had devoted to be a shrine, a rose bleeding its thorns into his fingers. he wept, cried and begged for any singular sign to tell him that it was true all along, and then suddenly, his came dreams came alive.

the mc that you played as approached him. he felt his usual demeanour of solitude being disregarded, words pouring out of him like an endless fountain. for once in his life he felt so alive, and he knew in that moment that his saviour had blessed him.

whilst developing self awareness, he sees it as a gift from his divine, you. he spent his whole life devoted to a diety tat he didn't even know, but rather than freaking out upon the truth, it granted him all the clarity he had searched for. his existence meant nothing if not for your entertainment and so he strived to be your favourite disciple and succeeded. he was your favourite character, and you had no idea that he was self aware.

he heard your voice sometimes. when he closed his head to rest he'd hear you fawning over the game or groaning at certain features in the game. he doesn't care about the fact you didn't create him. as his God, you simply blew life into him.

[dykealloy]

i really hate recommending things on the grounds of "yeah just put 1000 hours into it and it'll start getting crazy good" but you should watch one piece

[kuncitizen]

Thots and prayers

Synopsis You kneel at the confessional, desperate for salvation, trembling with guilt and lust. Reverend Father Getou offers no judgment, only indulgence. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the unholy ache between your thighs, welcome to your new form of worship.

Pairing Priest!Geto Suguru x reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, priest kínk, confessional setting, religious imagery & heavy blasphemy, sacrilegious head, oral (male rec.), power play, dom!Getou, choking (rosary style), hair pulling, face-fucking, degradation + praise, crying, spitting, sacrament metaphors turned smutty, crying during orgásm, dubcon themes (priest authority), worship kínk, religious trauma undertones, slight exhibitionism, very intense power dynamics, atrocious levels of holy fuck, dripping with sin and incense, c*m as communion, unrepentant Getou, soul-crushingly filthy, no actual plot just unholy tension, you will not be absolved, Happy ending (kinda? emotionally? idk you're on your knees)

W.c. 1.3k

A/N: The cross is heavy but so is that dick

The confessional is dim and eerily quiet. Wood creaks under you as you kneel, air filled with incense and something else—something that clings to the back of your throat like shame.

You press trembling fingers to your chest, tracing the sign of the cross. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

The partition window slides open with a quiet scrape, wood groaning softly as if in protest or anticipation.

“Bless me, Reverend Father, for I have sinned.”

Geto’s voice answers on the other side, calm and measured. “How long has it been since your last confession, child of Christ?”

You swallow. “A week. Maybe less, I'm not too sure.”

You hear the faint smile in his tone, even if you can’t see his face.

“And what burdens your soul so urgently?”

You hesitate. The words knot in your throat with humiliation. “It’s… It’s been difficult. I’ve been trying to pray, I really have. But the thoughts won’t leave.”

“You’ve come again,” he says, and his voice is close, impossibly close, as though the partition between you is nothing but a veil. “Kneeling like that. With your head bowed, your hands folded so sweetly in your lap.” There’s something indulgent in the way he says it, a priest speaking not to scold, but to savor. “Do you know what it looks like, little one? Do you have any idea how you appear when you come to me like this?”

You purse your lips together, the action almost painful, before speaking up again.

“I wake up in the night. Restless, hot, bothered and I think of…” Your voice drops, barely audible. “I think of bodies. Of what it would be like to have one against mine...”

The silence on the other side stretches again, but it isn't cold, it's contemplative. You imagine Geto leaning in slightly, fingertips pressed together.

“Temptation is the Devil’s oldest trick. He plants seeds in your thoughts and waits for them to rot you from the inside.”

His voice is softer now, gentler, like a hand on your shoulder. “But you’ve done well to bring it here. Speak, and be unburdened.”

You shift on your knees, wetness slowly seeping between your legs. The air feels heavier in your lungs.

“I please myself,” you whisper. “When I feel it building. I try to resist, I do, but I end up on my knees anyway, just not like... this. Not for God. And afterwards I cry, because I just feel so empty and ashamed.... Because I let my lust consume me.”

You hear the faint rustle of his robes shifting behind the partition. No other sound, just that, and the pounding of your heart, like it’s trying to escape your chest and climb into his hands.

“Child of God,” Geto murmurs, “you carry shame like a second skin. But if you come here seeking sanctification…”

“Then let me take it from you,”

The wooden grate clicks open. Your breath catches in your throat as a sliver of light spills through. Enough to catch the faint glint of his rings, gold and tarnished silver, engraved with tiny symbols you don’t recognize.

His fingers slide through the opening gradually, knuckles kissed by candlelight. The cuffs of his robe pull taut at his wrists, the soft black fabric whispering against wood.

“Let me purify your being.”

Geto's hands cup your face, warm and firm, brushing the stray strands of hair from your eyes, tracing the curve of your cheekbone with rough hands.

You tilt your head up, eyes glossy with unshed tears. You can’t see him clearly through the rail, but you feel the weight of his gaze, knowing and unyielding.

His hand tightens just slightly, as if to steady your trembling.

“This is no mere penance,” he croons. “It is a communion of flesh and spirit. Will you receive the Host I offer?”

You nod, barely, wordless and desperate.

“Very well, then.”

The wooden grate slides fully open, divider folding back with a quiet, final creak. The confessional no longer feels like two separate worlds but one dimly lit chamber charged with a secret electricity.

Geto steps through, crossing over to your side. The flickering candlelight catches the deep black, traditional Roman collar crisp against pale skin. His robe falls smoothly, the fabric pooling lightly at his ankles, just above polished black shoes. Around his neck hangs a beaded rosary with a silver crucifix.

His hands slide to your face again, steadying you as the other moves to his neck. The beads slip through his hands with a soft, rhythmic clack. He lets the strand fall gently, like a silent benediction, before looping it slowly around your neck, the cross resting heavy against your skin.

Geto tightens his grip just enough to tug the beads against your throat, a slow choke that makes your breath hitch sharply and pulse quicken.

Leaning in close, breath hot and ragged against your ear, he murmurs, “Open yourself, and let me absolve you.”

His eyes darken with intent as one hand slides down to the waistband of his pants. Fingers deft and sure, he undoes the clasp with a muted whisper of fabric and metal.

His cock springs out, pale and pretty with a pearly split tip. And it's huge. So big and girthy that for a moment you wonder if you could even fit it in your palm. The sides of your mouth froth at the mere thought of it.

You part your lips, trembling, as he presses himself to your mouth. The tip slides past your lips, warm and demanding. You take him in eagerly, mouth hot and wet, the taste sharp like consecrated wine.

Geto's hands thread through your hair, fisting it and holding you firm as he fucks your face. Low groans spill from his throat like worship.

“That’s it... the Lord will—”

His words catch, swallowed by a deep, guttural sound as he pushes himself deeper and deeper, your pretty little throat stretching to welcome him. The pressure of the beads around your neck and the fullness in your mouth blend into a pulse of sinful salvation.

You suck and swirl, tasting him fully—holy and profane in one breath—as his hips tilt forward with steady rhythm. The church walls seem to close in around you, sacred space pulsing with every grunt and stifled moan.

Your cunt throbs. Your cheeks are wet from the mixture tears and spit. Your fingers slip between your thighs before you know what you’re doing, sin layered on sin, shame so sweet it could only be divine.

“I can feel your mouth praying for me,” he pants. “Isn’t this what you wanted? What you needed? The Lord forgives you. I forgive you.”

You gag softly as he hits the back of your throat, but you don’t stop. He doesn’t let you. You look up through your lashes, drool spilling past your lips, fingers moving faster. You’re cumming before he does.

“More,” he gasps, voice heavy with need. “Let this be your penance.”

Geto's head tilts back slightly, jaw tensing as a breath escapes him. He shudders, the release flooding your mouth, hot and creamy ropes gradually painting near the inside of your mouth.

“Be a sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice hushed and hoarse, thumb tilting your chin up. “And swallow it for me.”

You swallow, your throat aching and still tightening around the rosary beads.

Geto looks down at you through his hooded gaze—still kneeling, spit and release coating your lips lewdly. His hand finds your jaw again, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. His eyes then flick down to your trembling hand, fingers slick, glistening with your own climax.

He catches your wrist, bringing it up slowly. His tongue laps the mess you made, savoring the taste of your sex with a groan deep enough to echo through the confessional walls.

When he’s had his fill, Geto pulls off with a wet pop, licking his lips. "Sweet little sinner,"

He lingers for a moment, eyes trailing over your wrecked form—your heaving chest, the tremble still in your thighs, the cross hanging heavy against your neck. Geto's breath is still uneven, but his voice is steady as he speaks,

“In this sacrament of flesh, you are reborn.”

[valtsv]

"how did the guy with no friends win" is fucking me up because. that's the point. that's the truth that lies at the centre of the life series. if you want to win, you can't let yourself get too attached to anyone, because you'll just have to kill them anyway. that's the pact that was made in the very first season in a bloody circle on the sand. you can't bring anyone with you, not unless you want to look in their eyes and see the betrayal - or, perhaps worse, understanding - there when you kill them. nobody wins the life series with friends. nobody wins the life series.

[gothicrepetitions]

“The greatest weight.-- What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: "This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence - even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!" Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus?... Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life to crave nothing more fervently than this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal?”

― Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science

Supernatural (2005-2020)//True Detective (2014-)//Time and Personal Identity in Nietzsche’s Theory of Eternal Recurrence, Scott Jenkins//Purgatory with Color TV: Motels Rooms as Liminal Zones in Supernatural, Lorna Jowett//Yellowjackets (2021-)//Revolutionary Girl Utena (1997)//Quote by Guillermo del Toro//One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Marquez Garcia//Trauma Reenactment in the Gothic Loop: A Study on Structures of Circularity in Gothic Fiction, Andrea Juranovszky

[sinnbaddie]

Naruto as a series is perfect if I ignore the lack of change to the systematic oppression and the victim blaming and the child cruelty and the oppressors being forgiven and the clear classism and the regression of character development and the-

[interpolationz]

me staring at my phone trying to figure out if the homophobic sorority girl from my brothers youth group realizes that putting the song casual by chappell roan in the background of her best friend appreciation post is a little odd

[whalemarch]

please bring him back </3

[biomic]

[yourgoldennotebook]

taylor swift + madness

blank space mv (1989, 2014) / the last great american dynasty (folklore, 2020) / mad woman (folklore, 2020) / champagne problems (evermore, 2020) / still from the eras tour (champagne problems) / hits different (midnights, 2022) / "in summation" - a poem by taylor swift / fortnight (the tortured poets department, 2024) / fortnight mv (the tortured poets department, 2024) / the tortured poets department (the tortured poets department, 2024) / down bad (the tortured poets department, 2024) / florida!!! (the tortured poets department, 2024) / guilty as sin? (the tortured poets department, 2024) / who’s afraid of little old me? (the tortured poets department, 2024)

[temis-de-leon]

Tw: dark themes (mentioned prostitution, sex trafficking and eating disorders), my general opinion on sins and demons (related to what I've learned in school and my family's beliefs) and very ooc OM! cast.

Obey me should be 18+. Obey me should be bloody and vicious. Mc's presence would be so much impactful if only the demons behaved like demons and the angels behaved like angels. If Solomon was an almost forgotten king living amongst dark creatures with no crown on his head.

When i think of Solomon i think of that story where two mothers were arguing about a living child. He offered giving each of them one half of the baby.

Where's that Solomon?

Why does Mammon keep spending money? True Greed lives within those parents that choose witnessing their child in pain over paying expensive medicine. Those people that bought one pair of leather boots ten years ago and refuse to buy something new because everything is "too expensive" nowadays. Mammon should be selfish and bitter, criticizing everyone's spending habits, not encouraging them.

But Mammon's greed represents having everything and more, you may say.

Well then, if he wants to have everything and more, why does he gamble? Does he expect to win every single time? I'm not convinced.

And Beel shouldn't be hungry all the time. On the contrary, he should be full. He should be eating without really having the need to do so. Food is not a coping mechanism for Gluttony, it takes the whole meaning of sin away. Beel should eat because he can do it and because he wants to do it. He should be eating until he feels sick and then keep eating because, why not? The food is delicious and it's right there.

And on top of that they're demons. Mystical beings dedicated entirely to temptation and punishment.

In obey me they're all bark and no bite (except lesson 16 and maybe Lucifer sometimes).

Give me some violence. Give me the gore that comes with living in hell. Give me a mentally unstable MC that truly shouldn't survive the exchange program. Demons all around are obsessed falling in love with them. Give me a true reason and not plot armor.

Envy and Pride are so close. Levi should be as ruthless as Lucifer. Greed and Lust? Prostitution and sex trafficking would put Mammon and Asmo on top of the food chain.

Tell me why Diavolo is more powerful than Barbatos.

Tell me how Luke is still alive.

Masterlist

[dire-miralis]

When a monster's theme is going full steam ahead and then a gentle and very significant leitmotif plays within

[styxxsyringe]

hotel manager

[moonagedaydreamsofrhiannon]

When The Goo Goo Dolls said “I’d give up forever to touch you,” “you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be” and when Hozier said “the only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you” and when Taylor Swift said “I would fall from grace just to touch your face” and when Hozier said “if I could hold you for a minute, I’d go through it again,” “I would not change it each time, heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I” and when Hozier said “I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door” and when George Ezra said “is the grass of Eden overrated? No one else is such a beautiful dream to me” and when Big Thief said “no love is like this, no sacrifices” and when Jeff Buckley said “my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder,” “all my riches for her smile,” “all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter” and when Johnny Cash said “you can have it all, my empire of dirt” 

[lucidloving]

Interview with Melissa Broder, "Ask Polly and So Sad Today Talk About Feelings" // Miranda July, The First Bad Man // Giuseppe Molteni, The Confession