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blkkizzat · 8 months ago

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'SINS OF THE FATHER'

PRIEST!NANAMI X READER

✟ the liturgy: (summary) Even the most pious of men succumb to temptation and Father Kento is no exception... especially when it comes to you. (Priest!Nanami POV) ✟ the confession: (tw) dark themes, sacrilege, adultery, blasphemy, jealously, exhibitionism, blackmail/manipulation, heavy biblical references, cunnalingus, fingering, riding dick, shoe fucking, blow jobs, panty sniffing, olfactophilia, dacryphilia, lightly suggested altarboy!yuji (aged-up) x reader, oil tycoon!gojo x reader, suggested mentions of reader x other jjk men, corruption, masturbation and angst as you are literally tormenting this poor priest (lol). ✟ the sins: (wc) 4.1k ✟ the opening rites:(a/n) i grew up catholic (got confirmed too) and went to catholic school but haven't stepped inside a church in literal years. i was honestly surprised how many bible references came so easily from pure memory while writing this.

Sanctified conviction radiates off Father Kento as he approaches the inordinately adorned wood carved pulpit with authority to address his congregation.

Despite the uncomfortable Summer heat there is no lack of attendance, a sea of familiar faces packed into the small town chapel. The buzzing song of cicadas and soft oscillation of the large fan circulating humid air through the church are the only sounds heard as the masses eagerly await his homily.

You were among them of course.

Sitting front and center– a small saccharine smile graced your lips while your doe-like eyes, captivated and attentive, were made even bigger as they raised to the podium to meet his own.

Bible open, Father Kento takes a full breath pause before he finally speaks, his gaze is benevolent yet his voice is firm as it projects over the congregation.

“Dear Brothers and Sisters– Let us reflect on the gospel of First Corinthians Chapter 10 Verse 13…and The Lord says– ‘There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man—”

Oh but you– you were anything but common– and irregardless of any higher standing his status as a clergy member bestowed upon him he was still a man of flesh and blood.

No matter the effort exerted, Father Kento had been unable to keep his eyes from yours during the service. The magnetism of unknown and certainly unholy forces drew him to you time and again without fail.

No beauty in town rivaled yours, not with an angelic countenance that complemented your delicate features so gracefully in your every action.

Yours was a form of divine femininity rivaling that of Venus herself.

If that wasn’t beguiling enough, your honeyed voice and syrupy words had the ability to sway even the most feral of temperaments. Leaving those who heard it at your mercy like a gentle but deadly siren.

“—but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able—”

Is God faithful?

Ironic how you had Father Kento questioning the very foundations of his own faith while simultaneously indoctrinating God’s dogma to his faithful parishioners.

If you were a test he had failed.

Many times.

Even the first man, Adam, had fallen to Eve’s allures and not even the warrior strength of Samson was able to overcome Delilah’s seductions.

Who was he to prevail where the biblical idols had fallen?

What actual grace could God give man against the sensual temptation that he had carved from man’s own rib?

Father Kento had felt forsaken of God’s grace ever since you had approached him after mass to quietly request the rites of confession. He should have refused when you kindly solicited him to perform them in the cooler confines of the secluded rectory over the oven-like heat of a chapel confessional box in summer.

Led astray so effortlessly by your genial charms as you looked to him like a lamb lost and addressed him so meekly as “Father Kento”. He would have just as easily given you access to heaven then if it were in his power.

Yet it was you who had so graciously led him to the gates of Zion— which so conveniently happened to reside in the velvety depths between your thighs.

Consequently, the only sins that were confessed in the rectory that day were the moist squelches of your peach-ripened pussy gushing around his cock and coalescing with the frenzied sounds of hot flesh slapping together in unison.

A child of Lilth incarnate to be sure but you looked so pure and celestial, even in ecstasy.

Hair matted to the sides of your face drenched in sweat while your nimble hands clutched onto his clerical collar. Your eyes filled with such loving devotion and you rode him earnestly as if it was your life’s penance.

Father Kento in turn gives you his absolution by taking you from behind. The swell of your plump rear rippling against his hips and shared fluids splashing onto his hard abdomen feverishly drive him closer to God than he’d ever been.

Yes, he is weak.

But Father Kento held the conviction that not even The Vicar of Christ, the Pope himself would be able to resist the vice grip of your silken cunt as if its true purpose was never to bear life but to wring out the very essence of the soul of man.

He’d fallen prey to a day-walking succubus on hallowed holy grounds.

No– Father Kento was certain if this church had ever truly been blessed as a house of God you would have caught aflame the moment you graced its threshold.

“—but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye are able to bear it’.”

Father Kento concluded the passage. Nonetheless, neither it nor any other doctrine had provided him the solace of escape and nor biblical strength did he receive to endure against his temptations.

There was no resisting you.

There was no escaping you.

For anyone you cast your sights on.

This is exemplified by the obvious effect you have on the young alter boy Yuji.

Barely old enough to be called a man, the youth's entire body flinches whenever you spare a sweet glance in his direction.

Has Yuji’s innocence already been stolen?

Father Kento must quell the inkling of jealousy at the thought lest he stumble over his words and shame himself further.

He was a man in every sense of the word and a man of the cloth, he would not compete for your adulterous affections with his own altar boy.

Even so, Father Kento’s lip does curl in disapproval at the deep flush of guilt on Yuji’s cheeks. Yuji clumsily trips over his own feet, nearly permitting the blessed vessels for the rites of eucharist to fall to the ground.

Harlot! Have you really allowed someone other than himself to bathe in the sins of Jezebel?

Maintaining composure through his sermon, Father Kento reminds himself that an inexperienced youth is no threat.

However it is more than likely Yuji– who normally is so oblivious in nature– had likewise become aware of the wicked exhibition of sacrilege occurring beneath the prayer cloth in your lap at the very hands of your own husband– Satoru Gojo.

“So you may ask where does that leave us as followers of Christ? Temptations lure us into doing, saying or thinking something that does not reflect who we really are as sons and daughters of God.”

Neither you nor your husband were Christ’s children so none of these ideologies applied to either of you.

Nefarious philistines the both of you– godless and immoral.

Although Father Kento was for certain your husband, Oil Tycoon, Satoru Gojo– was the only one whose deeds could put yours to shame.

The white haired devil had descended upon the quiet small town like a thief in the night to greedily capture the first few drops of black gold that surged from the earth before it could even fall to the ground. Quickly buying up land and resources, in less than a fortnight Gojo essentially had control over the entire town– its priest included.

But as he became more wealthy, so did the town and its people. Satoru Gojo built up the town around him to match his own gluttony for opulence, taking the town and its people away from simple old time comforts and into the more complex modern age.

Therefore the man was seen as a saintly savior, rather than the lecherous leech he truly was.

To Father Kento’s credit, if he deserved any at all– he had initially held strong in his faith.

He was not a man tempted by the power that would come from a promotion to bishop if a larger church was built. Nor was he tempted by monetary gain. The treasures he had always held most valuable were only those to be found in God’s kingdom.

Familiar with the tricks masked by flamboyant arrays of grandior, Father Kento’s folly had been his own headstrong vainglory in being a man above the lures of temptation. Thus he failed in recognizing you as the seductive snake in sheep's clothing the cunning tycoon Gojo had sent to be his undoing.

And you had never once failed to unravel him.

Even now Father Kento struggles to keep himself together as you inconspicuously lean against your husband, your head resting gently on his shoulder while the dainty fan you are holding obscures the lower half of your face.

What appears as an innocuous attempt to halt the perspiration rolling from your nape into your heaving bosom is merely a front to hide the sinful ‘o’ your cherry lips form.

Your chest softly heaves although your labored breaths aren’t from the humid heat shrouding the church– but the increasing warmth dampening in your loins. All which had been provoked by your husband slipping two fingers through the buttons of your thin sundress and into your pussy, lightly teasing its gooey folds. Gojo’s movements are mostly concealed by the cloth but Father Kento can make out the skillful circular motions stroking your spongy bud and causing the sporadic twitch in your knees.

You had writhed similarly under him. You were always far too sensitive.

Fat tears would never fail to pour from your bright eyes when he would latch his mouth onto your sex. You would be his last supper if ever given the choice. If heaven had a flavor it would surely be akin to the taste of your pink candied cunt and he knew of no sweeter treat on earth.

Twas no wonder then how Father Kento easily loses all sense of self when flicking his tongue into your gaping slit. Swirling the appendage within your gummy walls he gluttonously slurps down the steady stream of your flowing nectar.

Your mewls and cries for him are far lovelier than even the song of cherubim. Father Kento has committed them to memory and as such he knows when they reach a certain octave– your pitch so high it's practically soundless– you're nearing your nirvana.

Arriving at your peak you would thread your hands through his blonde locks and thrust your hips forward as if his mouth were salvation itself. Your manicured nails would dig into his scalp to rock his head deeper into your plump pussy. The actions would beckon his tongue to finally give you its mercy by dragging it flat up your folds to suckle and nip at your swollen clit.

You never called on God then.

Nor your husband.

Only Father Kento.

Coincidentally, Father Kento’s gaze locks with Gojo’s for a brief moment and Gojo’s pale lips curl into smirk.

A fleeting look is shared before contact is broke but the message is clear:

Satoru Gojo own’s everything in this town.

Gojo owns your cunt.

Your cunt owns Father Kento.

Therefore by proxy Gojo owns him.

The revelation has Father Kento showing the white of his knuckles from the intensity of his grip on the pulpit podium as you simultaneously release a silent scream brazenly cumming on your husband’s dexterous fingers in the middle of mass.

“The time now is propitious for us all to make a journey of conversion, led by sincere faith to allow ourselves to be confronted with the Gospel. Let us confirm this commitment by sharing in The Body and The Blood of Christ.”

Proceeding with communion the altar boy Yuji stands next to Father Kento holding the tray where the blessed chalice of wine and platter of thin wafers reside as the congregation dutifully exits their rows to receive the eucharist.

As it is the more modern way to receive communion the majority of the congregation choses to place their non-dominant palm up over the other to respectfully receive the host. Yet traditionally, the priest placed the blessed wafer directly on the tongue of the one receiving. This practice was typically only seen by the elderly, the most exceedingly pious and of course— you.

When it is your turn to approach you beam brightly as you and all your beauty seem to float before him.

“The Body of Christ.”

Father Kento raises the host before you.

“Amen.”

You obediently replied.

Like expected your eyes fluttered to close as your pillowy lips parted in order to accept the host directly in your mouth.

God help him, this was the most sacred part of mass but the way your deviant tongue lulls out hot and thick with your saliva pooled on the edge and threatening to spill onto your lips has Father Kento shifting at his post.

You look just as compliant and yearning to receive as when you had been on your knees before him taking his cock in your mouth whole.

Father Kento delicately placed the host in your mouth in a similar fashion as to when he would tap the tip of his bulbous leaking cockhead onto your tongue.

So willing to please you kiss his angry red mushroom tip to appease his cock, swirling your tongue over the tiny hole before puckering it between your lips to greedily suck any drops of pre that dribbled forth as you pumped his base.

You were a tease.

That much was evident both then and now as you extended the tip of your tongue to caress the tip of his finger. A tiny kitten lick, but nevertheless a tingle ran through his cock in remembrance.

“The Blood of Christ.”

Father Kento presents the wine symbolizing the blood before you.

“Amen.”

Again you closed your eyes and allowed Father Kento to press the chalice against your parted lips.

The very picture of amenability, you actually enjoyed when he went rougher on you as a result of your teasing. Father Kento would gather your hair into a tight grip as he not-so-gently rammed his cock past your tonsils and down your throat.

It was unnatural and ungodly for a person to lack any semblance of a gag reflex such as you.

In response you pressed your fingers into his thighs– not as a means of resistance, but to control your own lust as you began shamelessly humping your mound against his leg. You were always desperate to feel any small sensation against your cunt while he ravaged your mouth.

Of course, Father Kento would oblige you and in turn he is rewarded with the heavy moans that would vibrate around his cock as his oxford loafer pushed up into your soaked core. Your white lace lingerie did little to contain your juices and as such Father Kento made use of the fluids leaking from your pussy as polish to shine his shoe.

Having sipped the wine from the chalice you peer up at Father Kento as if seeking his approval.

He gives you a small nod.

Similar to the one he bestows upon you after his seed has filled your stomach and you lick your lips as if it was his essence and not The Blood of Christ that lingered on them.

In the beginning, he had prayed long and hard to forget those sinful images of you that would intrude unwelcomed into his mind.

Yet you always had ways of sucking him back in.

Such as leaving your soiled panties stuffed between his headboard. Father Kento thought he was going mad when even after changing the sheets thrice was he still plagued with your smell.

He should have burned the offensive garment as soon as it was discovered and yet he treated it with reverence as if it were a holy object of salvation. Truly an euphoric experience, on days he couldn’t have you he’d bury his nose into the fabric murmuring blasphemy as he worshiped the very scent of you while jerking his cock.

When Father Kento finally ceased trying to resist you he then had the fleeting thought he could save you. Bring you to God and away from your villainous husband.

But you were no Mary Magdalene, there was no returning you to the flock.

You will not leave your husband who provides you wealth and security. Father Kento is not so enamored he holds illusions that extend beyond his reality. There is nothing Father Kento owns and nothing he can offer you but himself.

The singular consolation of the tragic circumstances is that Father Kento is sure you prefer his touch. The touch of a seemingly pious man who only has desires for you.

Unlike your scoundrel of a husband who Father Kento was sure had not remained faithful to your marriage bed. Not the way most of the female townsfolk threw themselves at Satoru Gojo. If he had no qualms using you to achieve his means he certainly had none for himself.

You were simply a pawn to be played, as was Father Kento.

“Before we depart I leave you with these words: Let every day be a new day to renew the promises of our Baptism: We renounce Satan and all his works and seductions — for sh– *ahem* HE – is the seducer. Now go forth, Brothers and Sisters and remain true in the light of God.”

The closing rites over, Father Kento has never been more relieved nor eager for the conclusion of a mass. Watching the congregation mingle in the entrance, he gives his farewell blessings to the parishioners.

A few still remained however you were nowhere to be seen.

This was not odd, the Gojos were a busy couple, likely excusing themselves immediately to attend to more important affairs.

Or so he hoped.

“There you are, Father! Riveting service, as always.”

With a devious grin and a firm drawn-out handshake Gojo greets Father Kento. Turning to face the devil himself, Father Kento greets Satoru in turn with a strained smile and an even firmer grip.

Yet still he is unable to show you any of the wrath you justly deserve and Father Kento’s smile is more genuine when he faces you.

You regard Father Kento coyly as your husband’s arm tightens around your waist. Your face is flushed and it’s evident you are still weakened from the orgasm your husband gave you earlier in front of the entire congregation.

That knowledge though is only held by the three of you, God and perhaps the altar boy Yuji.

Father Kento had never known you to be silent when cumming so the exertion of the effort you expended likely weighed heavy on you as displayed by how you are clinging to Gojo to keep from swaying on your feet.

“Thank you. I am but a humble messenger of The Lord’s wor–.”

“– Wait. Hold that thought!”

Father Kento’s eyebrow twitches as Gojo's attention is momentarily called elsewhere.

Every Sunday, a growing number of parishioners would seek Satoru Gojo’s greeting and recognition after service over that of their priest Father Kento.

True to character Gojo makes an obnoxious show of charisma which leaves the last group of parishioners fawning and singing his praises as they exit.

“Forgive me, Father. Where were we? Ah– Of course! Yes, you are quite excellent in your delivery of God’s word, a true testament to your faith!”

His flattery is so obviously false in its sincerity that Father Kento is not surprised when Gojo’s sordid smirk returns.

“But you are not only a messenger for The Lord… isn’t that right, Father Kento?”

Father Kento warily clutches onto the large cross dangling from the rosary around his neck as Gojo continues.

“I’ll need you to spread mine as well. Haven’t you heard? I have plans to run for Mayor.”

Mayor.

The diabolical fiend truly knew no limits in his quest for control over the town.

“I’ll need you to come over to dinner tonight to consult with the rest of my top supporters.”

Father Kento steeled himself..

There was nothing he could do to stop Satoru Gojo from being mayor but his infatuation with you aside, he could not walk straight into the lion's den to collude with heathens.

It would be the final nail in his coffin, Gojo would indeed own his soul.

“Oh! Y/N is prepping a feast too… aren’t you, angel?”

Gojo’s grip on your waist trails lower to palm the fat of your ass and you clutch on to him tighter as you nod eagerly in agreement, biting your lip as his large hands knead into your cheeks through your wispy dress.

Your body is ever responsive to Gojo’s touch just like he trained you to be.

“I must refuse. I have duties here to attend, I couldn’t poss–”

“P-Please F-Father…”

And just like that your delicate voice cuts through his iron defenses like it were warm butter.

“…K-Kento, p-please come!”

Your request fumbles out of your lips as a cry as Gojo’s devilish fingers dip past your ass to prod at your cunt.

“You heard her Father. She wants you to come. Break bread with us, you will be among friends. Friends who know how to share, yeah? I’ll even share a piece of her cream pie for dessert.”

That had been the final straw. Gojo had gone too far this time.

You seeking him out was one matter but he would not allow Satoru Gojo of all people to dangle you in front of him like a master would dangle a treat to a dog.

“Begone, you foul heretic. I will not tolerate your mockery of me, this church nor God any longer.”

Commanding in his tone, Father Kento extends the cross of the rosary forward to Gojo as if he were casting a malevolent curse back down to hell.

Father Kento doesn’t have the courage to look at you though, he can’t. Not if he wants to take a triumphant stand against Satoru Gojo.

And so Father Kento closes his eyes and silently prays.

Immediately bored at such a devout display, Gojo sighs rolling his eyes.

“Alright, alright, Father. I get it. Whatever you say, jeez. It’s not like I need your support to become mayor– just thought it would be nice is all. ”

Father Kento remains silent as he listens to both of your footsteps exit the church but not before Gojo stops at the doors, his cheerful voice taking on a dangerous edge.

“Heh, you know, not everyone in this town is as pious as you Father. Sheriff Fushiguro has never been one to turn down a stack of bills but I’m sure tonight he would enjoy sharing in Y/N’s creampie if you don’t.”

Father Kento’s eyes open to flash red with fury.

Having received a satisfactory enough reaction from the priest, Gojo grins wildly as your own eyes widen in shock at your husband’s words.

Has Gojo only ever used you to manipulate him alone?

The thought remains as Father Kento doesn’t miss the pleading gaze directed at him from over your shoulder as you are led out of the church.

Goddammit– He couldn’t let you fall into the brutish clutches of Toji Fushiguro.

Toji may have been the sheriff but he was well-known for his oafish demeanor and greasy womanizing ways.

NO! He mustn’t think of you any longer.

Father Kento needs to clear his mind of you for good with prayer.

Prayer and solitude.

Deep prayer and extensive solitude was what he needed if he ever hoped to rise again to gain God’s favor. He needed to call upon The Lord’s strength one last time to remain at the parish tonight and defy Gojo’s will.

Father Kento couldn’t let the pleasures of flesh continue to manipulate the very fibers of his being in such a way.

The rosary still in his grasp Father Kento raises his hands close in prayer as a final call for God’s mercy… and then it hits him– wafting off his fingers, overwhelming his senses and igniting every nerve in his being.

The scent of your cunt.

The lingering perfume of your sinful drippings spilled on your husband’s hand during mass had been transferred to his own when Gojo shook his hand and held it so firmly.

The bastard.

The rush hits him hard and he feels dizzy as his ears begin to ring. Vertigo overtakes Father Kento as he holds the offending hand out as if he had been poisoned.

Leaning back against a wall to gather himself, Father Kento realizes once the manic pounding coursing through his veins begins throbbing in his loins that he’s fated for damnation.

This is the moment he’d always dreaded although ironic with the simple acceptance of it he feels no despair.

Father Kento’s conviction is finally clear as he is left with a singular truth that rang through his entire soul:

Whatever solace he would know, whatever peace he would have in this life, he would only find with his cock buried in the sweet embrace of your cunt.

✟

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

✟ the closing rites: (a/n) hell is hot and it's surely my destination after writing this. i tried to leave it a little ambiguous to whether y/n is actually in-love with nanami or just a sex-crazed slut eager to use him at the request of her husband. i don't have a pt.2 planned just fyi as this is meant to be a oneshot. although i do need to write more nanami so i will take requests for him! but fair warning i am very slow i apologize.

also shout out to the amazing art i used for the gfx ✟ art by mishwell

✟ REBLOG to be unburdened of your sins by Father Nanami but likes and comments are also appreciated!

upcoming: the nursery (yakuza!toji), please teach me! (ceo!gojo), request: teasing choso (college au), request: sukuna x blkreader, [none in any order as im at the mercy of my adhd lol]

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monstersflashlight · 2 months ago

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Day 5. Monster-kinktober: Ancient God + Branding/Uniform

A/N: Using they/them pronouns bc angels have no gender (but his earth manifestation is a priest so he/him when referring to him like that). This turned out very poetic and I’m not sure I fully like it, but hopefully it’s good. Enjoy!

Gn!Biblical angel x fem!reader || branding, mind control, heavy dub-con || tw: murder, manipulation

You died. You don’t know how or when or even your name… But you died. You passed away and you were walking through a clear path ahead. No destination in mind, you only knew you needed to keep going. You walked and walked. And after what felt like days, maybe years, you saw a light on the horizon. Then you ran and ran, instinctively knowing there was your answer, that light had all you needed even if you didn’t even know what that was.

As you approached, you expected the figure to become more humanoid, more god-like maybe, but it didn’t. In front of you, there was a big ball of light surrounded by thousand of eyes. No, not a light creature… an angel. A true biblical angel that looked so bright and ethereal you had to close your eyes because their beauty was too much to hold, but not a second later you had to open them to see if they were indeed that beautiful. It pained your soul to look directly at them, it was too pretty to be looked with your poor human eyes, it was too much but at the same time you couldn’t look away for even a second, your eyes unable to blink as you stared at them.

“We meet again, my little lamb,” a voice in your head said.

You knew that voice, you didn’t know from where or why but you knew it. You knew them… You knew you were safe with them, no memories, no many thoughts in your head, but the only thing you were 100% sure about was that they were there to take care of you. To answer your questions and to alleviate the pain in your soul.

“I promised you’d always be safe, and here I am here to collect what’s mine to protect.” There was an edge to their voice, a growl in the way they said mine that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. But you still couldn’t look away.

Something akin to a hand, maybe a ray of light, you weren’t sure, reached around him to get to you. And in that simple touch against your chest, a fire so big you couldn’t hold back a scream rose from within. Little by little you started remembering pieces of your mortal life. You started to remember his voice, his smell… but most of all you remember his clothes. You remembered seeing him on a priest uniform, always so proper with everyone until you rolled around.

He never touched you, but you didn’t need him to, he always had this aura around him that made you go weak in the knees and made you want to sin. You told him everything, even how he made you feel like you were depraved for having dirty thoughts about a priest. He just laughed, dismissing your concerns and telling you how you were his little lamb and he would always protect you. But he never judged you, not really. He was always there when you needed it. And every single time he showed up for you, you fell a little harder for him.

By the time you were so deeply in love it hurt to see his face, he pushed you softly and you hit your head… right at church. Right in front of him. The last imaged burned on your retinas was him with a halo around his body, almost like an angel, almost like a death angel coming to earth to retrieve your soul. And when you came to be, the memories in your brain were fresh and painful, but they were in front of you, waiting, expecting... but you had no idea what.

“Did you kill me?” You asked, confused, the images of him pushing you and the halo around him so fresh it still hurt your heart.

“I did what needed to be done so we could be together forever, little lamb.” Their voice was deep and unbothered, like that simple fact was enough to justify everything.

“Did you kill me?” You asked again.

“I did,” they accepted. “Now we’ll be one in eternity.”

“How?” You loved them, the feelings were still there, but he killed you… That was fucked up.

“I branded you in your mortal life, little lamb, and when you died you became one with my soul,” they tried to explain, but you didn’t understand anything.

“And if I want to leave?” You ventured to question, already expecting the response.

“You won’t, little lamb. You are mine.” There was a dangerous edge to their voice. “And I am yours,” they added in a softer tone. “I will make you happy, forever…” They reached to you, and you tried to move away, but you couldn’t. There was a force beyond yourself stopping your movements. You were trapped inside your body and they could control all your movements. “Follow me, little lamb, let’s walk into eternity.”

Eternity was how they called their home, an empty space without anything but light. It was so warm you almost wanted to take off your clothes, but you could still only follow them. Your foot moving on their own accord as your angel levitated a couple steps ahead.

At some point they just stopped, everything around you looked exactly the same, but for some reason they decided to stop right there. “It’s time to enjoy what mortal pleasures we refused ourselves in your past life, my little lamb,” they said, cryptically.

“What… what do you mean?” You let out, breathless with the effort to talk when your body was not your own anymore.

Instead of answering, they made your clothes disappear. You stood before them, naked and unable to cover yourself as they stared at you. You wished more than anything that they had a face so you could at least try to figure out how they were feeling, too. And above all, you wished their voice and their touch didn’t make you as hot as you were, already dripping, your body betraying your head for them in an instant.

They made you lay down next, flat against the white surface under you. “Open your legs, let me see you, little lamb.” You wanted to say no, but your hands moved on their own. You reached down and parted your legs, exposing yourself completely to them. “Such a pretty pussy, my pussy, all wet. Touch yourself, let me hear how wet you are.” Your fingers moved on their own accord, the resulting sounds were filthy and you blushed. “Yes… I like when you are so desperate for me you can’t contain yourself from dripping with desire. Rub that tiny bundle of nerves, lamb. I want to see you fall apart, for me.” Their voice was deep.

Your mouth was tightly shut and they spoke inside of your head, telling you what to do, what to feel… And you couldn’t avoid it. You couldn’t say anything about it. But at the same time, you didn’t want to. Their touch felt like a betrayal, but the comfort it gave you made everything worth it. You danced between the dichotomy of needing their touch and being repulsed by it.

“You are going to finger my pretty pussy and when you fall apart for me, I’ll enjoy it,” they ordered.

You wanted to refuse, but you found yourself nodding along as your hand found your wet entrance, your fingers moving on their own accord as your other hand played with your clit. You knew half of those movements weren’t yours, you knew they could control you completely and you were at their mercy, but for some reason that didn’t bother you as much as it should.

They kept talking. “I promised you I would take care of you, and now I can, now that you know everything… we finally can do all you wished. All those dirty depraved thoughts you had and confessed drove me wild with desire, little lamb, and now we are going to make all true.” Your fingers accelerated, pushing against your G-spot in the perfect angle. “Let me remind you some of those… Let me remind you how you wanted to be bent over the altar and fucked until your pussy was so full you were overflowing.” Their words made you shiver as you rubbed your clit faster. “Let me remind you how you told me all about how you would fall to your knees and suck my dick until you were absolved of all your sins. Tsk. Such a dirty little lamb wanting to blackmail a priest.” The insult was soft, but it made your blood boil. But they weren’t done. “Let me remind you how you came to church without panties and exposed your sweet, sweet pussy, my pussy, in the first row… tempting me. You were a sinful little lamb, and you deserve to be punished.”

Their voice became dark and dangerous at the end, and you weren’t in control of your hands anymore. They controlled all your movements, and rapidly you were coming around your fingers, your body trembling as they stared. But you realized it wasn’t your body anymore, nor your fingers... You fell for them in their human skin, when he was dressed as a priest, and you were okay with that. You were depraved enough to confess all your dirty fantasies… and now you would be punished for them.

You were depraved enough to fall for a priest, and the priest was depraved enough to brand you to own your soul forever. They acted like your guardian angel… but they became a demon for you.

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siblingshuffle · 2 months ago

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Rocktober Day 1: “First”

TW (I guess?) Religious references. Kinda.

“This, my son, is ‘the Creation of Adam’ by Michelangelo. It depicts the moment Adam - in some religions, the first human created by God - is given life.”

“The first…human?…”

“Yes, according to Abrahamic religions.”

“…”

“…Are you alright, Blues?”

“…Do you think he ever got lonely, being the first?”

“…I…suppose…”

“…Why’s Adam naked outside? I thought that was illegal.”

—————

Inspired by a panel in the Archie comic book “Prototype”, this is something I thought was interesting. Enjoy your only-semi-relevant-due-to-the-role-shuffle biblical parallels!

Relevant Lore:

Blues realized pretty quickly that he was the only robot like him.

Kids ask the strangest questions, don’t they?

Until after the military demonstration incident, Blues called Dr. Light by his name or “sir”. Because, you know, until he was in the clear, having his robot kid call him “Dad” might make the Military a little suspicious lol (credit for the idea)

#sibling shuffle au #mega man au #mega man classic #megaman #my art #blues light #dr. light #dr light #Rocktober #Rocktober 2024 #I’m gonna tag religious references because some people don’t want to see that #religion #religious art #because of the Creation of Adam.#References to religion

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uravitsy · 10 months ago

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‘BLESSED BE THE FRUIT’ RYOMEN SUKUNA

summary. sukuna finally answers your prayers, ready to give you anything you desire for just a small price in return. ☆

warnings. breedingkink!trueform!sukuna (though he doesn’t have two dicks in this ???), virgin!fem!reader, dirty talk, rough/forceful sex, talk of pregnancy, biblical references, a bit of mythology (?), angst if you squint, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, porn with plot, tw!coercion, you and sukuna are fucking in a temple, this is kinda long and barely edited

a/n. this was loosely inspired by eurydice and hades, if you know you know. i enjoyed diving deeper into some darker topics and exploring sukuna with a breeding kink.

Cloaked in the dim glow of candlelight, you knelt before a modest altar adorned with symbols of the underworld. Your eyes, reflecting a blend of sorrow and determination, were fixed upon an ancient relic representing Sukuna, god of the realm below. With clasped hands and a voice filled with quiet strength, you uttered fervent prayers, seeking solace and sanctuary within the hidden temple. The flickering shadows danced in rhythm to your whispered pleas, creating an atmosphere of otherworldly reverence.

“Please," you whispered, lowering your head beneath the flickering candlelight, the shadows emphasizing the pain in your eyes. "Hear my prayer, Lord Sukuna. Bathe me in all your glory and breathe life into my every desire."

Dealing with the gods was dangerous, a fact you were well aware of, but what other choice did you have? In a world where women were mere possessions, you refused to succumb to a fate of being bartered off like livestock. Each day, you faced the prospect of being presented to suitors—elderly men whose former wives had long since died. It was a fate you couldn't accept. You aspired for more than to become someone's wife; you desired to etch your name into history, to be remembered for more than just a marital tie.

Frustrated by societal expectations, you turned to Lord Sukuna, a deity with a tale that resonated with your own struggles. The legends spoke of his fall from grace, a narrative both pitied and condemned.

"Grant me freedom, the freedom to shape my own destiny, and I shall offer you my body and soul," you implored, slowly disrobing despite the inner warning that this was a dangerous gamble.

As the storm outside intensified, a deafening roar of thunder filled the temple. Startled, you leaped from the cold stone floor as a serpent came before you, its scales brushing against your bare skin. Panic set in, and you screamed, frantically kicking the reptile away.

Your realization of your actions heightened as you hastily covered your exposed body with the silk gown. Ready to leave the temple in disappointment, a chilling voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I come to answer your prayers," the tall figure announced, and as you turned to look, it became apparent he was no ordinary man. With multiple eyes and a visage both unsettling and captivating, it was clear before he spoke that this was Lord Sukuna. Though you recognized him from forbidden stories and images, seeing him in person left you awestruck. The deity towered over you, his appearance more otherworldly than any depiction you had encountered.

"And yet you kick me upon first glance," he snarled, and you dropped to your knees in a bow, pleading for forgiveness.

Yet, Sukuna's response was not what you expected. Swiftly, he materialized behind you, his voice close to your ear, taunting and chilling. As you nervously explained your choice to invoke him, he laughed dismissively, questioning the value of mortal offerings. The encounter with the King of Curses had just begun, leaving you on edge and uncertain of the consequences of your plea.

"Please forgive me, my lord," you uttered, head still bowed, as you sensed Sukuna leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. "I-"

"You, you, you," Sukuna mocked, his tone dripping with disdain. "It's always something you mortals want. I came from my duties to answer your cries for freedom. Was not giving you humans free will enough?"

"I don't have free will or control of my own life," you confessed, glancing over your shoulder to meet Sukuna's gaze. "That is why I called upon you."

With an amused expression, Sukuna suggested drastic solutions, his words making you uneasy. "You could run away, or better yet, kill yourself and give your soul fully to me." You looked down, unable to deny the truth in his words. "Oh, but you won't do that, will you? You mortals always want everything but won't give anything in return."

In response, you steeled yourself, determined to offer what you could. "I can offer you my body and my soul," you declared, a glint of determination in your eyes. "That is all I have to offer."

Sukuna, ancient and seemingly indifferent, stretched his arms with a chuckle. "I am older than the Earth and the Sun itself. I have countless souls and have slept with goddesses.” He tapped his chin with a shake of his head, “No, no, I'm going to need something… more. Something that will weigh on your heart."

Your frown deepened, "Then what do you want?"

"A sacrifice," Sukuna replied, his voice holding a mysterious gravity, leaving you to contemplate the implications of the request. The encounter with the god took a dark turn as the demand for a sacrifice hinted at the potential cost of seeking divine intervention. The weight of your decision began to settle in, and the true nature of the pact you were considering became clearer.

"Sacrifice?" you repeated, the word hanging in the air, leaving you breathless. The realization hit you hard – you were in way over your head. Gambling with the Gods always came with a hefty price.

Sukuna grinned wickedly down at you before revealing his unsettling request. "I am in need of a woman, a woman to carry something very special to me." His fingertips danced across your back, sending a shiver down your spine. "For I need to taint a virgin to birth my son."

The weight of his words sank in, and you instinctively brought your hand to your stomach. "My firstborn child?" Your words echoed in your ears.

"That child would belong to the Gods, to me. It wouldn't be yours," Sukuna explained coldly.

"But I would carry him as my own."

"You'd be nothing but a mere vessel," Sukuna pressed his hand against yours, his black nails digging into your skin. "Do this one task, and I shall ravish you in wealth and power."

The internal struggle reflected in your expression, but Sukuna cut off your thoughts. "I don't have all day, (y/n)." His touch sent shudders through you. Sukuna laughed, his gaze roving over your body as if you were nothing but a piece of meat. "Do you accept?"

Caught in the web of your own desires, you hesitated. Sukuna, the King of Curses, already knew your answer before you spoke it. Your words were trapped in your throat as he continued undressing you. The silk gown you were being discarded, pooling around your ankles. The vulnerability of the moment made it clear how little agency you truly had.

"I accept," you finally whispered, turning around in his arms, ready to submit yourself to him. "I will give you a son."

Little did you know the depths of the consequences this pact would unleash. As you willingly embraced the bargain, you couldn't fathom the entanglement of your fate with the God of death. The journey ahead would prove more treacherous than you could have ever imagined, and the true cost of your decision was yet to unfold.

“Then let’s get to the fun part shall we?”

You had to admit that this wasn’t how you imagined losing your virginity. You thought it would be the traditional way, on your wedding night against a plush feathered stuff bed but clearly the universe had other plans for you. Your body felt as if it was on fire under Sukuna’s gaze, your legs spread apart for him to see you and all your naked glory.

“Look at you, so ripe and ready to be plucked,” Sukuna grins, “I should warn you that I am not the gentle type.”

“I can handle you,” You tell him with a new found confidence.

“Oh?” Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his long slender fingers glide up along your wet folds, “Don’t get too cocky, little lamb.”

You winced in slight pain, his finger entering you up to his knuckles. Sukuna didn’t even give you time to adjust before he started fucking you with his finger, a glob of spit leaving his mouth and on to your naked cunt to get you more lubricated and to make the dry feeling less uncomfortable.

Once his finger could slide into you with ease he added another, his eyes never leaving your face so he could watch your every expression. You tried to bite back your moan, not wanting him to know that that pain you felt now turned into something that was pleasurable. It started off as a faint feeling inside your lower abdomen but it grew, and it had your legs shaking slightly from ecstasy, “Lord S-Sukuna..”

“What was that?” Sukuna pretended not to hear you, “I can’t hear you over the lewd sounds your pussy is making, dove, you got to speak up.”

“Ah!” You tossed your head back at the sudden feeling of Sukuna’s warm tongue on your pussy, it was long and felt a little rough but its warmth had you become a quivering mess. It was all a new sensation, something that the books don’t tell you— that sex can actually feel better if you had a somewhat relationship with the person you’re being intimate with. It was different with you though because you hardly knew Sukuna and yet it was if you’ve known him for years.

“Sukuna..” you moaned his name, the sound bouncing off the temple walls. That pit of pleasure only growing, something that was foreign and seemed forbidden to chase, “I—This feeling—Ah!”

“What a cute virgin you are,” Sukuna’s tongue was exceptionally long as he toyed with your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves as he spoke, “You’re the perfect woman to be filled with my cum.”

“M’gonna..” your legs began to tremble at the pleasure, your chest rising and falling as that wave inside you intensified. You were now being fucked with three fingers, Sukuna enjoyed the sight of your pussy sucking his large fingers in as if your body was specifically made for him, his own cock hardening underneath his kimono.

That wave inside you crashed, your orgasm falling over you, leaving your body involuntarily shaking at that overwhelming feeling of pleasure. Sukuna helped you through your release, his fingers quickly replaced by his thick cock that he slowly moved up and down your soaked folds, teasingly rubbing his swollen tip along your clit.

Your eyes widened at his size, you were sure that he was half the size of your arm. It was intimidating to say the least but what did you expect from one of the Gods? “You’re so big..”

“Aren’t you observant?” Sukuna teased, before taking ahold your legs in his large hands, with a snap of his fingers he materialized a pillow to rest beneath you, giving you a bit more comfort than the stone floor. You thought the gesture was sweet, making you realize that just maybe there was something warm brewing inside his cold, black heart.

Though those thoughts quickly faded as you watched him press your legs forward, your knees against your chest. You were fully exposed to him and unable to move, his fingertips dug into your soft plush thighs with such force you were sure it would leave a mark come morning.

“Now open up for me.” without warning, Sukuna thrusted inside you to the hilt, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. To say that you felt as though you were splitting in two was an understatement. It felt as though something ripped inside you, the pain was so instant that you tried to struggle away from his grasp but to no avail. Tears fell from your eyes as you bit down on your bottom lip so harshly to the point where it drew blood. Sukuna was your only source of leverage as he began to pound you against the temple floor. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your muffled moans was tuned out by the roaring storm still ensuing outside.

“Look at that little dove,” Sukuna groans at the sight of your small frame taking in his large cock, the thin trail of blood sliding down his veiny length almost sending him into a frenzy, “You aren’t a virgin anymore.”

“Sukuna…please..” Sukuna felt pity for you, for he knew this was no easy task, sleeping with a God— especially since he could be so cruel. To ease the pain, Sukuna opened his mouth on his stomach so his tongue could be free, lapping at your sensitive bundle of nerves yet again as he moved his other two free hands to fondle at your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipples to invoke more pleasure than pain. He knew his goal succeeded when your whimpers quickly turned into soft moans, your glossy eyes looking up at him with such reckless abandon.

“Is that better? I feel you clenching around my cock,” When you didn’t answer right away, Sukuna snaked his fingers in your hair, roughly pulling on the strands to toss your head back and expose your neck to him, “Answer me.”

“It’s s’good,” His cock pistoling inside you had your mind scrambled, eyes rolling further back into your head in pleasure.

“Ah, fuck.” Sukuna was enjoying this, enjoying this a bit too much. It had been a least a thousand years since he had sex with a mortal. He forgot how cute they could be, how fragile they are, “That’s it, take my cock, you like being fucked now don’t you? I bet after this a simple man won’t ever be able to satisfy you.”

You quickly found Sukuna’s fingers in your mouth to stop you from making any more noises. You moan around his cold digits, sucking and gliding your tongue along his fingers as if your life depended on it. Sukuna let out a string of profanities, retracting his hips before plunging himself right back into your greedy cunt; groaning softly at the sight of you quivering under his touch.

Sukuna’s hips continuously collided with yours, over and over with a lewd squelch coming from each forceful slam. You whimpered out his name like a soft prayer. Your drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth and down your chin. The pleasure that racked through you had your whole body shaking against his Sukuna’s death grip, you were unable to move, your role was to simply lie there and take whatever he was giving you with no complaints.

Sukuna kept you pinned to the floor, your legs pinned against you so you could watch as his large cock disappeared inside you. You couldn’t believe that it would barely fit before and now you were taking him like a champ, all of him.

"Look at you, taking my cock so well.”

Another orgasm came over you— making you toss your head back with a loud moan as Sukuna continued to thrusts into your tight velvety walls. You didn’t noticed he had flipped you over until you felt you cheek press against the floor and his large tongue attacked your sensitive pussy yet again.

“Oh my god, s-sukuna..” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head at the feeling of him fucking you with his tongue. It felt warm, so warm and inviting that you couldn’t stop your own hips from moving back to meet his sinful ministrations, “Yes..”

“You’re quite enticing for a virgin,” Sukuna licked his lips after he was done eating you out like a man starved. Using two of his free hands, he parted your ass cheeks, spreading you wide open for him so he could easily slide his dick in once again. You winced from the pain, this angle making him just go slightly deeper to the point where you felt a slight budge in your lower abdomen. It has you limp, completely powerless against the King of Curses as he used you like a simple toy, “Why, you’re nothing but a slobbish mess. Is my dick that good, dove? You want me to keep fucking this pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You were crumbling, his name falling off your lips incoherently as he fucked you into another orgasm.

“You ready to take my cum?” Sukuna grunted, feeling his own release nearly reaching its peak. The God sat back against the temple steps, pulling you with him so you were in his lap, your feet on either side of his thighs as his large hands bounced you on his cock with such force it had your mind spiraling. You don’t know which hand it was but one of them found its way to your throat as he fucked you ruthlessly while the others held onto your thighs, forcing you to be still while he pounded up into you, his swollen balls slapping against your ass in the most sinful way, “C’mon woman, tell me you want it,” You shuddered at the feeling of his tongue against your ear, his voice in a cruel whisper.

“I want it.” Your back was against his chest and head on his shoulder as you began to move on your own accord, not even realizing that Sukuna loosened his grip on you.

Sukuna grinned wide, his eyes glinting with mischief. He knew that once he filled your womb you would be bound to him forever, an invisible contract sealing your fate as the mother to his child. You were his now, he owned you in more ways than one— that is what happens when you make a deal with the devil himself.

“I can’t hear you,” He teased, hands moving to cup your full breasts as his sharp teeth grazed your neck.

“I want it!”

“How badly?”

“So, so bad please…cum inside me, Lord Sukuna.”

With those words Sukuna painted your walls white with his load of cum, burying into you to the hilt to ensure that not a single drop would be spilled. You went limp against him, eventually passing out from exhaustion. Sukuna's laughter echoed, a sinister symphony as he gently traced circles on your stomach, foretelling the emergence of his heir.

The King of Curses, now bound by an unsettling promise, sought to give you a life bathed in opulence and liberation—a reward for your courageous surrender, offering both body and mind to bear the weight of his lineage.

Your destinies were now intertwined, a complex tapestry of sacrifice and anticipation. The promise of new life echoes in the air. In nine months on a full moon such as this, a child will enter the world, bearing the legacy of Sukuna. Amidst the shadows of power and ambition, your role is pivotal—a linchpin in a grand design. Sukuna's excitement resonates, not just for his prince, but for a future that hinges on your connection. The gravity of your intertwined fates, a force impossible to escape, draws you deeper into the intricate dance of destiny.

URAVITSY 2024

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animeyanderelover · 4 months ago

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Request: Nsfw Hc's for Hannah Annafellows from Black Butler?

Tw: Yandere themes, Nsfw, possessive behavior, obsession, isolation, Stockholm syndrome, sadism, dub-con, manipulation, corruption kink, dacryphilia, blood kink, face-sitting, afab reader

Taglist: @lovley-valentine7@leveyani@chxxz

Nsfw Hc's

GIF by natsuki208

🟣Hannah is all about the sweet manipulation, all about entrapping her darling until they are dependent on her, obsessed with her. Your own obsession could never compare to her own feelings of course as she, a creature of darkness and evil, feels something that goes beyond what humans commonly refer to as 'love'. Only after she has turned you into a demon would you be able to understand the full extent of her feelings for you. She'll take her time though to enjoy your humanity for as long as she can. As submissive and gentle as Hannah may appear to be she is a demon through and through, possessive over her human mate and biblically viewed as a sinful creature who tempts humans to abandon their virtue and join the hellish crusade, undeniably the sexual aspect of this relationship is something that will eventually cross your way one way or another. She does not violently force herself on you though, instaid waiting until she has wrapped you just enough around her fingers for her to coax and sweet-talk you into letting her show you just how much she adores you whilst the best you can give her is weak protest before you submit to her.

🟣Known for being a species that greatly enjoys corrupting the hearts and minds of the common humans, Hannah finds herself finding her own pleasure in this aspect just as much. Especially if she senses that you are still unclaimed and still a virgin would she find herself on a more feral side during your first time, her dead heart thrilled as she rips away your innocence from you, taints and claims you all for herself. She'd be ever so slightly displeasured if she were to figure out that her darling is no virgin and has been claimed by someone before as the innocence of her mate would have been something precious she would have loved to devour. That primal resentment that something that should have only belonged to her got taken away subtly shows itself in the reveal of her more sadistic side during your first time together, in her more feral and possessive manner as she decides to erase every trace of them from your body as well as your mind until only she remains.

🟣Every time the both of you do the dirty deed the demon lady slowly reveals more and more of her true nature and her desires to you. That sweet, nurturing and almost motherly facade of her slowly fades as you get more and more glimpses of her feral, sadistic and starving nature. Her praises are poisoned honey that she feeds you, her words admiring and adoring with a tinge of condescendence in it all. You are her everything yet you are ultimately still a human. Terribly weak and frail, gone in the blink of an eye for someone who has haunted the world for as long as she did. You helpless little thing need her. Every time you are laying beneath her she whispers those manipulative words in your ears and against your lips, forces you to admit it to her as she plunges you into orgasm after orgasm with her tongue, her mouth, her fingers, her hands. She feeds on your release, her tongue greedily devouring it all as her eyes turn for a split second magenta. It may not keep her satiated like the souls of people do but she still finds herself indulging in the taste of your growing adoration for her.

🟣If you thought of her as a modest woman you should think again. She relishes in tormenting her darling just enough for the tears to swim in your eyes and your skin to start tingling in shame and fear. Sacred activities that were once restricted to the bedroom slowly get taken outside where the potential risk for other people to walk in is much higher. The scent of fresh night air and flowers, the grass your only cover as she fucks you in the fields where families normally have a picnic and children play around. A side street next to a normally busy main road as you are forced to stand on wobbly legs, supported by her hands on your hip as she kneels in front of you with her tongue deep inside your moist pussy. Every sound and embarrassed plea you make, voicing your fear of being caught only has her prolonging the process, drawing your anticipated climax out until you start begging her to finally make you cum. With her extraordinary senses she would never let someone else see you like this, a sight that should only be reflected in her demonic eyes. You don't need to know that though.

🟣She provides you with great, albeit guilty, pleasure and soon it is your turn to give her some too. After all you would want to keep your lover happy as well, wouldn't you? Hannah loves the sight of you between her legs, loves watching you as you eagerly and sloppily lap at her pussy juices, desperate to provide her with the same pleasure she always has you experiencing. She is much more composed though as she pats your head, encourages you to keep going over and over again. Her own libido, whilst mostly controlled, is quite high so she can cum around your fingers and tongue for hours and still desire more as she coaxes you into spending hours pleasuring her and will by the end still be less exhausted than you are. Her warm praise means more to you though than your exhaustion as she lays you against her large chest and lets you rest there. Especially her heat will drain you as long as you are still human, her juices staining your chin and the hair of her cunt tickling your nose as she sits on your face, her eyes flashing magenta far more often than normally as you are enslaved by her and forced to pleasure her until the worst is over.

🟣The taste of your blood is yet another bodily fluid of yours that she dines on. There are bite marks where her sharp canines cut through your skin and revealed the red, delicious liquid to her taste buds, the force of her bite always purposefully more painful to draw that painful groan from you. Your body is by the end always covered with purple lipstick and multiple bite marks all littering your body as if you were an empty canvas waiting to be filled with her love. Pleasure can quickly turn to sexual torture though if you were to displease Hannah. Brats need to be reprimanded and Hannah does so by some serious edging, getting beneath your layers of clothing multiple times a day only to leave you on the brink of an orgasm every time before returning to her duties until your underwear is soaked and your pussy clenches around the painful emptiness where her fingers or her tongue should be. Hannah can keep this up for days until you come crawling to her and promise that from now on you will behave yourself before she finally pushes you into sweet release.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere hannah #yandere hannah annafellows #yandere x reader #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #hannah x reader #hannah annafellows x reader

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jo-harrington · 2 years ago

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As Above, So Below - Series Masterlist

Van Helsing - Kas!Eddie/Fem!OC - Soulmates

This story is told from 2nd Person POV (you/your)

Minors DNI - This fic is for 18+ readers only.

Summary: In order to undo a centuries-long curse, you travel to Hawkins to defeat a great evil and close the gates to Hell once and for all. Unfortunately, you uncover many unsettling secrets including some about your lost love, Eddie Munson.

Warnings (in no particular order): Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut (Specifics Tagged in Chapters), Major and Minor Character Deaths, Violence, Gore, Body Horror, Blood, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

This story is going to be EXTREMELY HEAVY to write, so I will not be putting out a posting schedule. Chapters will get posted as they are completed.

OC is of European/Italian-American descent on her father's side and her mother's side can be left up to interpretation. She is loosely Roman Catholic and you will see why I say loosely if you read. I will not be giving her a name, or any major physical descriptors if I can help it but her cultural identity is integral to this story.

Note: You do not need to have seen Van Helsing (2004) to understand the premise of this fic. You should, however, read the prequels.

Prequels: Heaven - Hell - Purgatory

Hymns of Heaven: A series of "additions" to the prequel timeline based on cryptid and monster requests. April 1984 Mothman - April 1984 Immortal Snail - May 1984 Splinter Cat - May 1984 Sully - June 1984 Chupacabra - July 1984 Will-o'-the-Wisp - August 1984 Manticore - August 1984 Frogman - September 1984 Fresno Nightcrawler - September 1984 Thunderbird/Horned Serpent - October 1984 The Kraken - Halloween 1984 Werewolf - December 1984 Freddy Kreuger - December 1984 The Guardians - Christmas Eve 1984 Loch Ness Monster - January 1985 Manananggal - April 1985 Oneiroi - Unknown in the UD Inner Monster - Unknown in the UD Nachzehrer

Related Blurbs: Limbo - Genesis

Gratia. - Charitas. - Solamen.

Prequel Playlist

Chapters: Prologue - Annunciation 1 - Illumination 2 - Descendió a los Infiernos 3 - Crucible 4 - Malum Malus 5 - Via Domus 6 - Revelation 7 - Exodus 8 - Miserere Mei 9 - Deus in Absentia 10 - Atonement 11 - Amor Vicit Omnia Epilogue - Ab Aeterno

Series Playlist

Reader's Guide to AASB - A collection of references and Easter eggs that are made in the story.

Series Art All series art is commissioned by me from various fandom artists. Some art depicts the Knight (artwork varies from original character design to self insert art). If you want to keep the illusion of a faceless Knight, please do not look at the artwork noted with (*).

*Knight Character Design Sheet - by @floredaqueen *

*Eddie and the Knight on their First Date - by @boltedfruit *

*Eddie and the Knight and the Fresno Nightcrawler - by @doomcheese*

*November 5, 1984 - At the Trailer - by @boltedfruit * (TW: Blood)

Hell Eddie - V2 feat. Knight's Intervention - by @lilacwinelili (TW: Blood/Gore)

Purgatory Eddie - by @dance-on-the-bones (TW: Blood)

Kas!Eddie - by @nightonblogmountain

*AASB Sketch Sheet - by @toomanyacorns* (TW: Blood)

Via Domus - Eddie and the Demobats - by @hearsegrrl

*AASB Sketch Sheet 2 - V2 (Contains Spoilers) - by @toomanyacorns * (TW: Blood and Major Character Death in V2)

Miserere Mei - The Master of Puppets - by @nightonblogmountain (TW: Major Character Death, Blood, Violence, Gore)

The Gospel According to Mary Victoria - AASB as told from Mary Victoria’s perspective and a deep dive into her journey.

Book 1 - Book 2 - Book 3

This fic will not be for the faint of heart. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

Tag List: There will be no tag list for As Above, So Below.

#Series masterlist #Kas!Eddie #Eddie Munson fic #vampire eddie munson #vampire!eddie #Eddie Munson stranger things

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secretartblogowo · 4 hours ago

Note

care giving us a lore dump on your yellow and angel oc?

Oooh, yes I absolutely can!

*tw for sacrilege, reference to bible, religious themes, and religion*

So I'm not a writer by any means, but I do have a lot of ideas in my head about these characters. I think one day maybe I'll do something with them but for now they are just characters to create visual art with :)

The blue angel is named Zadkiel and he is an archangel while the yellow angel is named Verity and she is a seraph. In my little "biblical headcanon", based on some genuine text, seraph's hold vast amounts of knowledge (especially historically) and are incredibly valued in the angelic hierarchy, while the archangels are low on the hierarchy and serve as protectors and warriors. Zadkiel is Verity's designated archangel. (Something to note: Angels are not really gendered and their humanoid forms are manifestations, their pronouns and bodies are a personal choice. Being conventionally attractive is just a norm for angels as it makes it easier to communicate with mortals)

(MS paint drawing of "true forms". For Verity this shape is a lot more natural while for Zadkiel he struggles as his connection to God is not as strong)

A seraph's job is to stay safe and sound in heaven and archive everything told to them by God (who I imagine to be a completely nonphysical being, incoherent to mortals, and unable to communicate to anything but other holy beings. Morally grey by our standards of morals) and record any massive historic events on earth shared to them by lower class angels who regularly travel to earth. As all conscious beings do, God has given angels free will but it's unheard of for anything but lower class angels "Falling" as seraphs, virtues, cherubs, etc. all stay off of earth.

Verity knows of sin but it's completely inconceivable to her. You could read a million books about the Grand Canyon but you will never truly know the Grand Canyon unless you've been there. She has a very naive personality and her duty makes her naturally curious, which lands her into some trouble with her peers. It's hard to be objective when you have the free will to think and reflect and she questions why things are the way they are. Zadkiel, being a lower class angel who visits earth regularly, is deathly afraid of sin. He sees what it does and is mortified by Verity's curiosity. He is overprotective but cares for her deeply, his more human side admiring her personality and quirks. Their dynamic is essentially Verity being naive and wanting more while Zadkiel, who has access to the "more", insisting there is nothing good for her.

That's really all there is to them. All the belly stuff and any intimacy between them is "noncanon". I do have ideas a basic plot about Verity being "put on trial" by God, sending her down to earth without revoking her status, to test her faith. Her having to come to terms with her rebellious ideas and navigating the world facing unknowns for the first time. Zadkiel would be her only familial companion since he's able to visit earth as he pleases.

Few notes: Angels can change their shape and form with their only restrictions being mass to a certain degree, their halo, and sometimes their wings. The halo is a constant unless ripped from their soul by God or another angel through the will of God. Their halos are unique to some degree, mostly by status. The colours I made up. I don't know why they're blue and yellow, I thought it was cool.

There are no mortal angels. A mortal who dies and goes to heaven does not become an angel, it's merely a sanctuary of the soul. When someone dies and does not go to heaven, they don't go to hell either, unless sworn to a demon while alive. Their soul is lost forever and are only bound by affiliation, whether "good" or "evil". There are also no mortal demons but angels can become demons through the act of "Falling", where an angel directly disobeys or disgraces God through "unforgivable sin". Fallen angels can freely move between hell and earth but can't go back to heaven, while hell-born demons have to be summoned out of hell. All angels can travel anywhere but the entering of hell would be a death wish.

(MS paint drawing of immortal travel guide)

A few disclaimers about the religion in our world compared to my little made up world: This is obviously based on Abrahamic religions, from the standpoint of someone who doesn't practice and only has cultural knowledge (that's me!). In my lore, the human expression of religion is a point of contention for angels and demons alike. The way immortal beings (demons and angels) see mortals is almost like a fawn, a child who doesn't "know any better". Religious literature was written by humans and the interpretation of it will be restricted by how the humans interpret any communication made to them by an immortal being. As I haven't actually explored this world and it's characters literately, I haven't had the time to appropriately explore what "messages" this God wants to send to humans. I didn't think I'd get this far and I don't want to take that lightly. I try to view these characters as objectively as possible. Verity's questioning of her faith is important to the story and it tries to approach the concept of an undeniable creator as something that isn't easily accepted. Just like it's real world counterpart, there is somethings that are up to interpretation. I can't explain why a god of any kind would choose to make life and rule it when the need for power or purpose is a very uniquely human need. We would need to set aside the idea that God is completely omnipotent, perhaps only capable of creating life and the vaguest idea of "purpose", but not able to control much else. A little context on me: I grew up in a multi-generational atheist family. Religion of any kind was never a part of my life until I moved to the West and suddenly I had to face the wrath of doctrine. I find the artistic, social, and cultural significance of religion absolutely fascinating but find it outdated and suffocating in such a deeply developed and connected society. I can't really put myself in the shoes of someone who was actually raised with the belief or has the belief in a God, it's more a story of rebellion and self-discovery. Perhaps Verity is a reflection of my own naivety on the oppression and fear religion can instill while Zadkiel is a representation of that fear? Anyway...

Sorry if I went off tangent and didn't have more "lighthearted" things to share. I hope this doesn't exhaust or upset you, anon and readers <3

#tw religious themes #tw religion #tw bible #tw sacrilege #oc #oc lore #ask

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whatanightmaregrinch · 2 years ago

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John Hancock x Fem!Sole Survivor- holy matron

In Hancock’s opinion, taking up with the vault-dweller had saved him. Feeling like a fraud was no good, but walking around Goodneighbor made it worse. It only fed his increasing self-loathing, and then in turn, his chem habits. He spent most of his time either in his office absolutely fucked out of his face, or stamping out get-rich-quick schemes he would have given an arm and a leg to be a part of with people and ghouls he would have been glad to call his partners, and it was weighing on him. If he wasn’t concerned about the threats to his people, it was his own personal demons that taunted him. So many times he’d thought about taking just one too many Day-tripper, just to see how close he could get to the edge without going over (although he was more than sure that if he did tumble off of the edge, he wouldn’t have given a shit anyway).

Constantly grappling with his inner self; he felt like two men consistently battling for the right to live, the stronger of the two dictating his actions at the time. The coward who he desperately wanted to bury, urging him to just hide under his covers and take as much jet as he could not to feel anything, the degenerate who’d allowed a fellow drifter to meet their end at the hands of Vic and his boys- and the ghoul he’d forcibly become. The ghoul who treated his citizens with care, the ghoul who would stand up for what was right no matter the cost, famous for his freedom loving attitude and warm hospitality. He figured he’d get a little soul searching out of their travels together initially, but he ended up discovering a whole different way to be. Sole Survivor’s bottomless confidence and kindness had revived the way he thought about the Commonwealth and the people in it, and quite frankly, it had scared him. He’d never expected such a change to blossom within him, and it ignited an intense fire. The type of fire that had shown him he was thinking too small in terms of personal goals. This woman had somehow managed to co-ordinate a bunch of tattered strangers into becoming a trusted outfit (a feat, considering the name “Minutemen” often left a shitty taste in people’s mouths), all the while searching for her son and taking the fucking Institute on. If she could do that all at the same time, he could at least try and get his shit together. When they woke in the mornings, he was more excited to start the day with her, not terrified, high, and preparing for that day to be his last in the wastelands. Maybe some things would never change- like his habitual chem use, but he didn’t force Buffout and Mentats down his throat as soon as his eyes cracked open just to deal with the thought of being alive, most days. Sometimes it was bad, and he felt like he couldn’t move from the pile he’d put himself into, but she would always be there to lend him a hand, out of the dark hole and into the light again. He was sure the Commonwealth had brought forth an angel, a dazzling burst of sunshine on his radiation-clouded day. She listened to everything and anything he had to say, and the more he talked, revealing the sorer parts of himself, the more he realised the fondness he had for her was developing into something more tangible, something real. She had too many shining qualities for him not to be attracted to her- and like a moth to a flame, he was sucked in. Guilt ate at him most days after he realised how he felt about her. He felt like he was betraying the trust his friend had placed in him to travel with her as a companion- his widowed friend, no less. She didn’t really talk about her spouse, Nate, only if something small came up- like if a song came on that he used to like, or when they’d eat sugar bombs and she would smile a sort of painful smile, recounting how she’d throw them at Nate for him to catch in his mouth. There was a part of Hancock that detested Nate- not for loving Sole, but for being such a standard of man that John could never hope to compare himself too. It was unfair of him to do that, he knew that Nate wasn’t the one stopping him from being a better man, but when it came to Sole, Hancock wished he could be nothing short of perfect for her. For starters, he wasn’t smooth-skinned the way she was, and whilst he had confidence, it wasn’t that much confidence. She was ethereal at times, eyes straight from a pre-war film actress that burned into the back of his eyelids. He was well ... He was John Hancock, the guy who’d purposely taken a radiation drug knowing it was about to fuck him up and turn his skin into a pile of brahmin shit, just so he didn’t have to look at his own face anymore. Cause a girl’s gonna find self-mutilation sooo attractive. Sole wasn’t the type to judge on appearance- he was sure of that, but he couldn’t be sure that he was what she wanted, and losing the close bond he had with her over something like this scared him to silence regarding his feelings. He promised himself he wouldn’t read too much into how she acted and responded to him, he knew well enough that she was grieving and probably interpretated his actions as simple kindness, but he couldn’t help the way his chest seized when she interacted with him of her own accord- a guiding hand on his forearm when he was about to turn in the wrong direction, a quick but joyous hug when they received good news- his brain ate those memories up and played on repeat for him to experience, over and over again in the back of his mind. He was starting to feel like a teenager around her, and it was fuckin’ embarrassing. He was the king of ghouls, not some scared teen attracted to the girl next door. She was far from that type of lady anyways, hard to picture the woman as innocent when he’d seen her take a Raider’s face off with a hunting rifle at point-blank range. ��Hancock?” the angel whispered at them from across the campfire. He immediately gave his full attention, not that she’d demanded it. “Mm?” he made a noise in reply, and her smile washed over him like a sunrise, beautiful and life-giving. He’d bask in her glow for an eternity if she would only let him. “Do you think the Greentop Nursery folks will be okay? I’m worried the turrets won’t be enough.” She confessed, patting the ground next to her to search for her cigarette carton and flip-lighter. He almost felt amused at her line of questioning, he was sure that those people were safer than the dickheads in Diamond City with how many defences she’d created and repaired when they visited. “Between the turrets and the traps ya’ set up? More than okay. We’re not too far from ‘em though, could always check in tomorrow.” He offered, and she seemed to turn his suggestion over in her mind as she lit the cigarette, and enhaled. “Alright, We’ll check tomorrow- I just wanna make sure the Greenskins stay gone this time, that’s all.” She said, idly glancing at their surroundings, as if the very mention of a Super-Mutant would cause one to come crashing out of the bushes at them, Mini-Nuke in hand. He stared at her for a moment too long, and she gestured at her face. “Something there?” She rubbed at her cheeks, paranoid for dust marks or otherwise. He laughed, shaking his head.” No, but if there was i’d probably just let it sit, see how long it took ya’ to notice.” She rolled her eyes at him, throwing a rock at him, which just bounced off the tree he was sat near, and settled by a puddle on the floor. “Nice, real nice. What if ya’ took me eye out? What then? I’d be a one-eyed ghoul and it’d be your fault.” He sniffed, playfully. She actually considered the prospect, and grinned as she puffed at her cigarette. “I’d lead you around, tell everyone you lost your eye trying to chat up a Deathclaw.” She mused, exhaling some smoke, and he snorted. “Ya’d still lead me around though, feel like I win there.” He pointed out, and she grunted in reply. He grinned, he loved that noise. It was an old-man habit she had, unable to admit she was wrong, but not proud enough to dismiss him completely. He fished around in his pocket for his Berry Mentats, and pilfered two for himself, throwing them back like they were shots of whiskey. She spotted the box, and sweetly batted her eyelashes at him, silently asking for some. He rose a (long-gone) brow, and held the box up in the light the fire provided, so they could both see the faded design. “Ya’ want some of these? I dunno..” He pretended to be all beat up about her asking, masquerading as a ghoul who truly cared about his chem supply. “I just feel like keepin’ ‘em all too myself.” He continued, eyes trailing to hers to see what she would do with his defiance. She processed the moment, and a playful expression touched her features. She suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, pointing over his shoulder with a terrified face, and to her credit, it startled him enough for him to turn and look. She scrambled forward, hand shooting out to take the Mentats from him, but he was faster- leaning back and holding them up and out of reach, arching away from her. “I’ve been around too long for that to work on me, nice try though.” He taunted, waving the packet around. She huffed, but quickly went in for another attack. Hancock felt himself involuntarily gasp when Sole launched herself at him with such force that it sent both of them toppling to the ground, her arms coming to pin his forearms to the floor, causing his tricorn hat to fly off, abandoned next to them on the floor. He was vaguely aware of the way her legs straddled his stomach, but he couldn’t even form thoughts to react, especially when a smile so wolfish and greedy eclipsed her that it had his brain factory reset. He was too close to her, the fire illuminated her in a warm and inviting glow, she was so close he could count her eyelashes if he wanted too, and oh how he wanted. He wanted to know everything about her, wanted to know what made her smile when she felt down, wanted to know what made her mad; how he could make her happy again. “I’ve been alive for over two-hundred years, John. Nothing works on me, either.” She taunted him, proud at their role reversal. All he could do was watch, wide-eyed as she shifted her weight, easily grabbing the box of Mentats from him (like he’d ever put up a fight). She tipped one out into her hand, and dropped it into the back of her throat, swallowing her ‘stolen’ chems with a slight grimace at the taste. Hancock was sure this was as close as he’d ever get to heaven, watching her felt like observing a miracle up close. He watched in a trance as her attention finally turned back to him, completely enraptured by her movements. He watched as she analysed him, and she opened her mouth to talk to him, but whatever it was that she wanted to say slipped away as her pupils expanded, eating away at her irises until they were tiny slivers, pupils gorging themselves on any light that strayed too close. She shuddered, allowing the chem to sink into her. This felt holy, her grace flooding him. He felt naked, stripped bare of his corporal form, for her to view all of his sins underneath her. It was too much, too fast. His brain reeled at her perfume; tones of amber and sandalwood, and his body reacted before his brain had chance to sign off on the idea. In true John Hancock fashion, he told her the one thing he absolutely shouldn’t have. “I might be in love with you.” he stumbled out, and he froze when his thought process caught up with the rest of his body, gasping and furious about being left out of the decision, waving a shiv at him. She stared at him in silence, processing his words, and he sucked in a breath when she didn’t back away from him, but instead increased the amount of weight she was using to lean on him. He was pinned underneath her now, not that he could consider moving- the gaze she fixed him with was intense, he felt like he could set ablaze any minute if she willed it. “You’re either in love with me, or you aren’t. You don’t maybe love someone.” Her words burned his ears, and he trembled as his brain, riddled with Mentats, tried to summon a response. “I do love you.” He managed, heart beating in his ears. She leaned closer to him, absorbing his amended confession with a furrow of her brow. “Tell me again.” She demanded quietly, and John experienced her in a way she’d never allowed before. Her face was flushed, revealing her excitement- her eyes held a far-away desperation, a need to feel wanted, to feel loved. Hancock didn’t give a shit if anyone overhead him, he held her gaze as he told her again. “I love you.” She didn’t ask, but he continued to repeat the words to her like they were a prayer, and each time he said them, she got a little closer, a little more relaxed by his devotion to her. He would become a martyr for her cause, no matter the personal cost. She finally closed the gap, and they shared a kiss. It was a little rough, the Mentats in both of their systems meant they couldn’t afford the same grace they’d have sober. She pulled away, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and her lips remained there for a moment to whisper to him. “Love me, John. Love me for as long as you can.”

#john hancock fo4 #fo4 companions #fallout companions #fallout 4 #john hancock x reader #reader insert #gUYS I GOT MY KEYBOARD BACK #sobbing #so much easier to write fanfiction now #accidentally gave myself carpal tunnel from typing fanfiction with an xbox controller #confessions #hancock has feelings #lots of them #implied returned affections #returned affections #ill never tag properly #you cant make me

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