#AND THE BIBLE SAYS NO NO TO ADULTERY

[claratyler]

i've got to say it: i love webweaving as much as the next guy but i've found that whenever i find a particular line of a poem particularly captivating and i look for the entire work i'm always left feeling a little uncomfortable because it seems like the few lines that were chosen for the post are (obviously) taken out of context, but it's like they're assigned a new meaning by the op by including them in the new context of the other quotes and it just makes me feel like if i were one of the authors it would make me feel a certain sort of way to see the meaning of what i was saying completely missing so that others can ascribe a generic lovesick emotion to it :/

[prickly-paprikash]

Pushing aside the fact that I am, quite possibly, a Kendrick fan—disregarding my biases, I think Drake needs to stop. Push Ups was a good diss. Surface level, vapid, but it possessed that mean, petty spirit that carries a diss track all the way. Even bringing up accusations that are, realistically speaking, unlikely still works because a diss is supposed to show just how much you hate a person and how cleverly you can bring it.

Taylor Made was weird. I get that it was a strategy. Drop the main diss first and then drop this one to really prod at Kendrick. Using Pac and Snoop AI voices sucks though. Distilling Kendrick as Taylor's underling also doesn't work because Kendrick only collaborated with her once (twice when they remade Bad Blood) and that's it. Meanwhile Drake is out here always looking for new, up and coming artists to pounce on their trends or cling to established artists. Then it got taken down, because of course it would have been. You used 2Pac's voice. Did you really think his estate, his family, wouldn't do anything?

So he bought Pac's ring and used his voice without permission. More and more we see just how much of a vulture Drake is.

And then Euphoria drops.

Your first diss was met with solid reactions. Your second got taken down. Kendrick drops on a random hot Tuesday, and in a matter of hours surpasses your numbers that took weeks to accumulate. Kendrick did that. Euphoria was also harsh, clever, and sounded so good that people kept replaying it over and over again. Once more, Kendrick schools you.

A few insiders then say that Drake will drop that night. Right after. But he then allegedly gets cold feet. A few hours later from when Drake was supposedly ready to drop but backs out, Kendrick drops 6:16 in LA.

In your previous disses, you begged Kendrick to drop something with quintuple entendres. Euphoria did that. But he took it a step further by naming his second diss 6:16 in LA.

June 16: Father's day. Referencing the fact that Drake has been proven to be a deadbeat father.

June 16, 1971: Tupac's Birthday. Kendrick idolizes him. Drake steals from him.

June 16, 2019: First episode of Euphoria drops. A show Drake is listed as a producer on. A show about underage girls entering a life of sex, substance abuse, and more. Things that Drake has been accused of repeatedly in the past.

June 16, 2011: in June 2, 2011, Kendrick posted on his twitter that there will be a concert at Toronto on 6/16. Allegedly this is where Drake and Kendrick first met.

6:16 AM: The time of release for this track.

6:16: Multiple possible Bible verses, given Kendrick's Christian background.

Other claims felt like reaches though, so I'll stick to that.

The final two lines of 6:16 also reference the Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, and their song "You Are Not Alone". Drake, who has always claimed he is Michael Jackson or at the very least his equal/successor, is now tied to him in a way he does not want. Because we know all of the dirt that came out after MJ's death. We all know what R. Kelly was sent to prison for. And we all know what Drake has been accused of multiple times.

Kendrick also alludes to the fact that you have a leak in your circle, Drake.

So Drake drops Family Matters. A scathing 7 minute song that makes fun of the GKMC van. Saying that Kendrick's daughter isn't his. Saying that his wife cheats on him with security. Saying that he beats his wife.

Now, these are enormous accusations levied. But Kendrick has responded before, years ago, that the DV accusations were false. He has also always been open about his faults. Adultery. Sex addiction. Insecurity. God complex. Kendrick, for better or worse, has always laid out nearly every aspect of his younger life on his songs. This also helped by the fact that in both Euphoria and 6:16, Kendrick says that Drake has spent millions on finding dirt on him but came up with nothing. Again, these accusations can still be proven true and if so, Kendrick needs to be held accountable for them.

But if not? Then Drake just adds another to the pile of "He's a liar and a master manipulator."

Drake also posts a Parody on his Insta that gains little to no attention because 30 minutes after dropping Family Matters and supposedly going on his victory lap, Kendrick drops meet the grahams.

Another thing. 6:16's cover was a glove. That meant nothing to us, the audience. meet the grahams makes it make sense by zooming out of the glove and showing off a shirt and drugs that Drake supposedly uses. Drake has not had any receipts with his accusations against Kendrick. Kendrick puts Drake's supposed prescription, his full name, on a bottle of Ozempic. Kendrick, for now, seems to make good on his threat. OvO, Drake's company, is full of leaks. And they're leaking it straight to Kendrick Lamar.

Nearly 24 hours later, Kendrick drops Not Like Us.

Euphoria was a general character dissection and assassination of Drake: Insecure about his identity as a biracial man. Culture Vulture. Blaccent user. Code switcher. Fake abs. Womanizer. Misogynist. Using black features just to feel black enough. A deadbeat dad that knows nothing of raising a child. And even revokes Drake's ability to use the N-Word (I have no stake in that I am Asian so I will keep my brown mouth shut for that).

6:16 in LA was an ominous threat that slowly reveals that Kendrick has insider information on Drake. That he is ready to leak so much more should Drake continue.

meet the grahams is a brutal open letter to Drake, his parents, and even to Adonis, Drake's son. Saying that Kendrick could be a better mentor to Adonis. Saying that Drake abandoned you and that's not your fault. Don't be like your father—whatever anyone says, for better or worse, you are a black man and don't code switch just to make yourself feel better. He says that Drake failed his mother for what he did to women. Saying that Drake's father is the cause of his gambling issues. Drake is a body shamer. Leaving the mother of his children to rot. And of course, the reveal that Drake has a secret daughter, the same way Pusha T revealed Drake has a son. Adonis.

And of course, now. Not Like Us. Where Kendrick goes all in on one topic that he has alluded to in every diss track before. Drake is a groomer. A pedophile.

I am sick. I should not be tuning into this beef. But my fever can go ahead and end me, I need to know how this ends.

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

Once again, reading about queer history is so interesting cause you’ll find a dude who in 1814 said: Jesus respects gays and maybe even had “been the subject of male-male desire”

[blkkizzat]

'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]

[julietsbody]

divine figures — luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along. 

tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imagery…………..

a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!! 

luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasn’t. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, it’s bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.   

luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldn’t get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure. 

and he stuck true to that, until you came. 

he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there. 

always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his mother’s car. 

you hadn’t mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, “hey.” 

he hesitates for a second, “hi.” 

“did you like the sermon?” your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater. 

“‘course,” he smiles shyly, “i always do— um.. did you?” 

you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, “are you excited for easter?”

luke’s lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesus’ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way. 

jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldn’t believe in his father, jesus was going to take that place— and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lord’s name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and… father. 

he didn’t commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them. 

at the thought of women, luke’s mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didn’t hear you. “i am excited— for easter, will you be at— the um.. the church that day?” 

another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church. 

there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didn’t know any better, he’d envy him. 

“you should come on sabbath days,” you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision. 

he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “i thought they were for relaxation?” 

“and worship,” you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow. 

“right, right,” he wets his lips nervously, “i’ll just— ask my mom. mama?” 

as soon as he asks his mom, she’s all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more. 

“i’ll see you there,” is the last thing you say to luke that day. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

luke would be a liar to say he wasn’t riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that it’s sweet, that there’s no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up. 

the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasn’t thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying. 

luke didn’t know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasure— fuck. he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s unholy, it’s weird, but he’s already in too deep. 

he’s already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesn’t know why he prefers if you’d be hungry, if you’d bite and nip at him like you’re hungry, like he’s the last supper. 

his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasn’t one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properly— it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear. 

when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him. 

but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does. 

everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasn’t a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldn’t shake, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didn’t help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. he’s never had to confess anything larger. 

heat bubbles in luke’s stomach, it’s pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until it’s suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but it’s too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

when luke comes into the church the next day, it’s a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret. 

but he was here, and so, he prayed. 

the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room. 

luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy. 

for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldn’t allow himself to falter once more. 

as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadn’t heard his last confessions in his prayers. 

you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesus’ pointed glares, “i didn’t think you’d come.” 

his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, “of course i would.” 

all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, he’s practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises? 

luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize you’re speaking to him. 

“— wondering if you’d like to sit next to me tomorrow,” you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in luke’s pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you. 

is it so cruel to only tease him harder? 

luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, “sure, yes— um.. i need to— go.” 

before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow. 

desires go both ways, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

easter was once luke’s most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldn’t have another dream, he couldn’t let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew. 

the worst part wasn’t that you sat down next to it, it’s that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things. 

you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind. 

luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, it’s like he’s possessed, “what verse are you reading?” 

“luke 22:40,” you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips. 

on reaching the place, 

he said to them, “pray that you 

will not fall into temptation.” 

the saliva on luke’s tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs. 

luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else is— he is just silent, blank - faced. 

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and he’s tugging you back into the pew once it’s vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, “why are you doing this?” 

he’s out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like he’s pleading with you. 

“doing what?” you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together. 

“you’re tempting me— this, this isn’t fair, why?” his breath is shaky when he exhales. 

“i’m not doing anything, luke.” 

“you’re making me think— making me imagine things.. sinful things.” 

“what exactly are you thinking?” your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church. 

“i..” how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, “you know what i’m thinking.” 

“why don’t you show it to me?” 

absolution; 

formal release from guilt, 

obligation, or punishment. 

or.. 

an ecclesiastical declaration

of forgiveness of sins.

morals trickle down luke’s back when he kisses you, he knows it’s all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didn’t want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry. 

luke didn’t know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read. 

when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping. 

“please,” it’s barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l. 

“tell me what you want.” 

it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, “can you— ride me? or.. if you don’t want to— that’s okay.” does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course. 

“i want to,” it’s as if you aren’t in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how you’re moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh. 

he has no idea what he’s doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isn’t praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasn’t so easy to fall for temptation. 

god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight. 

 “you’re so big,” is all you can manage out. 

luke’s lips twitch around a small smile, “is that a good thing?” 

“if it fits,” you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, “then yes.” 

luke’s lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, you’re so slow with it it’s almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you. 

whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, sucking— he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate. 

he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts. 

“i want you to ruin me,” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible. 

“what?” your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips. 

he whimpers out a simple, “sorry.” 

you didn’t forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didn’t hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas. 

you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything he’s ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.

“‘m gonna—“ luke’s words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, “gonna cum—“ 

luke’s orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now. 

“do you still believe in god?” you offer him once you’re off him and he’s putting his belt back on. 

he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, “yes.” 

[latenightdaydreams]

Family Planning (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

Part 2

>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, cucking, p in v, religion, priest König

2.1k word count

⛪

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You’ve been married to your husband, Lucas, for four years now. Both of you are high school sweethearts. You never thought you’d have to seek counseling for the relationship. You nervously twiddle your thumbs as you sit outside your priest’s office, sitting next to your husband. Finally, the door opens and König’s eyes land on the two of you.

“Please, come in.” He stands at the door, waiting for you both to enter before he closes the door behind him. Once he sits down, he leans forward with a polite smile across his thin lips. “Mr. and Mrs. Altman. What brings you to me?”

There is a heavy tension in the room as you gaze over to Lucas. He sits with a finger pressing against his temple as he rests his arm on the armrest. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to talk about this.

“Well, it’s…we’ve been having some issues lately.” You speak carefully, trying to not offend your husband. 

“What issues?” König gives a concerned look to your husband.

“Well, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for the last four years and nothing. I went to the doctor, and everything was fine with me…” You stop talking and drop your head down, knowing the topic upsets your husband.

“So, that means it’s you that can’t get her pregnant?” His eyes lock with your husbands.

“Yes…”

“And that makes you feel…” König was trying to get him to admit his feelings.

“Worthless.” Lucas says in a low voice. “As if I’m not a man.” You rest your hand on your husband's legs and rub it in a supporting way. 

“We’ve always wanted a family. Since we met as teens, we’ve planned on having kids. The issue is not only his sperm, but to have a child, it would be through unnatural means.”

König watches the shape of your mouth as you speak. He nods his head occasionally to make sure you know he is listening to you.           Once you finish explaining your moral stance against IVF, he finally speaks.

“It seems almost cruel that God would give such a strong, devoted couple as yourselves such a heavy cross to bear.” His blue eyes gaze into yours as he speaks. “I also agree, IVF is unnatural and goes against God's word. The Lord sees how you’ve both struggled, yet never even up on one another.”

Tears creep up in your eyes as Father validates every feeling you’ve had along your way so far. Instead of judgment, he is listening with care. 

“But have you considered… other options?”

“Like adoption?” Lucas asks.

“Hm, no. Just a simple sperm donation.” König leans back in his desk chair, his fingertips touching as he studies both of your reactions.

“But having seed spilled by a contraption…it isn’t of God.” Lucas speaks softly. He knows you’d have the beautiful family you have always dreamed of if it weren’t for him. Guilt floods his body.

“Not with any medical intervention.”

“Then…how?”

“I can offer you my seed, to impregnate you.” König says boldly.

“Excuse me?” There is a bit of anger in Lucas’s tone.

“Please do not misunderstand me. I am a man of God. I’ve given up all pleasures in life. I’m simply the vessel put here by the Lord to give you the family you both desire. Like God impregnated Mary, but Joseph raised Jesus as his own.”

You sit staring at Father König with your mouth slightly ajar. Like God did with Mary and Joseph… Those words you kept repeating in your head, and the more it started to make sense.

“But that’s adultery.” Lucas snapped.

“God let men impregnate another woman in the bible when their woman was barren. I don’t see the difference here. No romance, just God’s gift.” He smiles at the both of you, impressed with how gullible you both seem to be. 

“He has a point, honey.” Your hand continues to caress Lucas’s leg.

He looks into your eyes for a while, a heavy gaze of guilt on his own. Is he really about to allow his Priest to sleep with his wife? That would be crazy, right? It would result in a pregnancy, and you’ll be able to start the family you’ve always wanted. Both he and Father König are blonde blue eyed me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to hide.

“I- can we think about this?” You can hear the buildup of emotions in his voice.

“Of course, take all the time you need.” König suppresses a small smirk. 

Everyone stands and you go home with Lucas. The night you both stay all talking, arguing, crying, laughing; just every emotion hitting at once. This is a conversation you never saw yourselves having. All you’ve ever wanted is to be a mother, and now God has given you an answer.

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You arrive outside of Father König’s home, fingers intertwined with Lucas’s. He hesitates before his knocks on the door finally. A few seconds later, König opens it, greeting you both with a warm smile. He is wearing his black pants and shirt with a Priest collar on.

“Bitte kommen Sie herein.” König steps aside to let you and Lucas come inside. 

The home is simple with crosses and imagery of Jesus and the Virgin Mary hanging on the walls. You both linger awkwardly, thumbs caressing one another’s hand. König closes and locks the door.

“Shall we.” He gestures for the both of you to follow him down a long hall. 

Turning into the last door on the left, he welcomes you in. There is a large king size bed with gray sheets and a blue comforter. A simple wooden cross with a bloody Jesus on the wall behind the bed. Your eyes linger on it for a while before turning your gaze towards Lucas. He is looking at the bed with a dejected look in his eyes. A heavy tension lingers in the air. 

“Y/n, you should undress.” König’s Austrian accent is smooth.

You nod and kick your shoes off before pulling off your sweater. Lucas took it for you, his eyes looking over your body as you slowly peeled away each layer. Both trying to avoid Father's gaze and only focus on each other. Once stripped of all your clothing, Lucas slips his hand back into yours. “You’ll be okay…” He whispers to you, pressing his lips to your forehead.

König takes your hand from your husbands, his icy blue eyes gazing down into yours. He walks to the bed, lifting you and gently laying you in the center of the bed. 

“Lucas, sit at the head of the bed. It’s important that you’re a part of this too.”

Lucas slowly kicks his shoes off and walks to the bed, pulling the pillows aside and sitting. His hands caress your hair, trying to ignore Father touching you. Ignoring how his hands ran up your legs, caressing the supple flesh of your thighs.

You tried hard to ignore Father's touch, but your body was responding positively. He climbs on top of you, his weight sinking you into the bed. Timid warm kisses trailing up your abdomen to your breasts. 

“Is all of this…necessary?” Lucas's voice cracks.

“Ja,” he continues to kiss over your breasts, lightly sucking on your perky nipples. “Her body needs to be relaxed to accept my seed.”

Lucas huffs, rolling his eyes. König ignores him, moving his lips to kiss up your neck, slowly making his way to your lips. He lightly bit your bottom lip before pressing his lips fully against yours. His knee sliding between your legs, rubbing it against your clit. You whimper slightly as his tongue circles yours.

“You like that, Liebling?” He licks your lips before kissing you passionately. 

Lucas stares at a wall as this is going on. He can feel his cock become slightly erect, but he tries to ignore it. He doesn’t want to get aroused watching a man take his wife. He’s her one and only- at least that’s how it was always supposed to be.

“Let’s see how wet you are for Father…” König says as he leans back. On his black pant leg there is a white wet streak. He smirks and looks at you. “Perfekt.”

Your eyes gaze up at Lucas, a bit of shame in your gaze for becoming so aroused. König grabs your hips and scoots you closer to him. Your legs spread open in front of him as he undoes his pants. He pulls his enormous cock out, his hand grasping it at the base.

Lucas' eyes go wide, looking at König’s penis. A wave of jealousy, insecurity, and shame rushes over him. How would you feel about him after you’ve been with Father? Can he compare? Will he ever be able to please you again? He is quickly snapped out of his thoughts as Father speaks.

“Are you ready, y/n?”

“Yes.” You said quickly, almost too quickly for Lucas’s liking.

“Look at me, Liebling.” König grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. His eyes watching you closely as he slips his cock into you. He watches the way your breathing shutters and your eyebrows pinch together. 

His hand moves from your jaw to your hips, grabbing your legs and spreading them wide apart. With each roll of his hips, you let out a pathetic little mewl. You’re trying your hardest to not give into the pleasure, you’re here to procreate, not have sex.

Lucas notices the way your face contorts with euphoria as König’s big cock fucks you. His cock rock hard in his own pants. He can’t help but to keep his eyes glued to your tiny little cunt struggling to accept König. The way your creamy cum covers his cock. You’re loving this and it kills him.

“Father…” The words slip your lips before you realize you’re moaning his name. Your eyes instantly shoot up to Lucas. An orgasm is building up but you try to fight it. Mouth hanging open, you let out a loud moan as König begins to buck into you faster.

“Cum for me.” König drops one leg and reaches out to squeeze your left breast. 

As you gaze at Lucas your body trembles under König, the sound of your wet cunt getting louder as you cum on his cock.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well.” König leans over and begins to kiss you passionately, stealing your attention back to him. “Your pussy gets so wet for Father.” His whispers kissing down your jaw. 

König pulls out, his large hands grasping your body and turning you over. You get on all fours, facing Lucas. He comes up behind you and slips his cock back into you without words. His hands squeeze the fat on your ass, spanking you to see the jiggle. Lucas glares at him, this is sex for pleasure for Father. His glare does not go unnoticed. 

“I’m close to giving you my seed Liebling…” König’s deep sensual voice now strained from the feelings of your tiny cunt sucking him in. “Lucas, please pray.”

“Pray?” He sounds shocked.

“For me to cum in your wife. For me to impregnate her.”

Your fingers are grabbing beat sheets as you look at Lucas. Babbling words as he thrust his cock even deeper into you. König grabs a fist full of your hair, holding your head up so Lucas has to see the way he is turning his wife into nothing but a stupid little sex doll.

“Please Lord, hear my prayers. Please let Father König’s seed be successful and fruitful.” Lucas looks at you with a slight bit of disgust. His sweet Catholic wife would never be enjoying fornication with another man this much. This was all a mistake.

“Say you want my cum!”

“Please, please cum in me! Please God! Please fill me!” Your voice is so enthusiastic, you’ve never acted like this for Lucas before.

“Ah, Ja!” König stops moving and pushes his cock deep into you. Your eyes roll back and Lucus turns his head to not see the finale play out.

König leans forward and kisses down your neck, biting you so hard he leaves a mark. He rests his body over yours, panting slightly.

.

.

Fully dressed you all stand by the door. You’re glowing. A huge smile on your face as you gaze at Father König with dreamy eyes. König reaches out and caresses your bottom lip with his thumb. Lucas stands there with a defeated look on his face, slightly dissociated in this moment as his mind tries to process what he witnessed.

“If this isn’t successful, my door is always open.” König grins at Lucas as he opens the door for you both.

Part 2

[supreme-leader-stoat]

Where does "turn the other cheek" leave Christians in terms of self-defense?

Alright, so, big asterisk up front: we've been arguing about this among ourselves for about two millennia and it shows no signs of stopping. A Quaker is liable to give you a much different answer than a raised-Baptist.

First, some context. The "turn the other cheek" verse is specifically part of the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus takes Old Testament law and raises the ante. The law says not to murder, He tells them not to let their anger overtake and control them to begin with. The law says not to commit adultery, He says not to even look at people with lustful intentions (this is the poke out your eye, cut off your hand passage). The law says that a man divorcing his wife has to give her the legal protections of a certificate of divorce, He says that anything short of cheating isn't valid grounds for divorce to begin with (this has a lot to do with the protections or lack thereof for unmarried women at the time, but that's a whole tangent I won't go into here). The law says to keep your oaths, He says to be such a straightforward and honest person that you don't even need to give your oath to begin with. And so on.

Now, with all that in mind; "turn the other cheek" is Him upping the ante on the segment of Mosaic law that literally gives us the phrase "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." It was half legal prescription on the just punishments for certain crimes, and half laying down the rules and restrictions of what constituted acceptable proportionate retaliation. If someone punches you, you can punch him back. Someone kills your brother, you can execute him. What you can't do is go and slaughter his entire family, because that's how you get blood feuds, and that doesn't end well for anybody.

Looking at it from that angle, "turn the other cheek" is a commandment against retaliation and vengeance, and this is the interpretation I've grown up around most of my life. Someone hits you and you've got the opportunity to walk away, then you take your lumps and go, and you don't stew and think about what you're gonna do to get back at him the next time you see him.

Active and immediate self-preservation is another matter. To the best of my knowledge, there is no clear prohibition in the Bible against such actions; even "he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword" is immediately followed by "Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?" The rebuke isn't for acting in the defense of others, it's for getting trigger-happy when Jesus isn't in any true (immediate) danger and because it's ultimately a pointless fight; Jesus has to go to the cross.

If you'll pardon an older example, let's take a look at Esther Chapter 8. King Ahasuerus gives the Jews leave to form militias to protect themselves and their property against the lynch mobs that would be attacking them as part of Haman's genocide plot, and this is presented to us as an inherently just and sensible course of action.

So, to answer the original question, I don't believe that there's anything wrong with Christians practicing self-defense, "turn the other cheek" notwithstanding.

But.

There's one more thorny patch to consider in this whole argument, and that's the one bit of Matthew 5 that comes after "turn the other cheek": "Love your enemy, and pray for those who persecute you." The safety that Christians enjoy in the modern west is an anomaly both geographically and historically. Christianity is, at its very root, a religion of martyrs. Many and maybe even most of those martyrs have gone to their deaths, if not willingly, then at least peaceably. It's worth noting that we don't tell the story of Stephen, who made a valiant last stand against the mob that tried to stone him. We tell the story of Stephen the martyr. "Lord, do not hold this sin against them."

Honestly, I don't know that I'd have the courage to die like they did. If there's someone who's trying to hurt you, trying to hurt your family, I won't be the one to look you in the eyes and say you have to stand down; I'm already well aware of the decision I'd make in that situation. But from the moment we accept eternal life, our old lives here on Earth are forfeit. Any time that could be taken from us with our death is on loan to begin with. A hypothetical attacker in a self-defense situation isn't guaranteed that same benefit. They might very well have far, far more to lose than we do.

I don't believe Christians are forbidden self-defense, but I think we are expected to weigh the costs.

[inamindfarfaraway]

The Exorcists’ Masks of Virtue

The vast majority of Exorcists in Hazbin Hotel have a notable design element that other angels don’t: their masks are missing an eye. Specifically, the right eye.

I believe this is a reference to the Bible, Matthew 5:29. Jesus says, “If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.”

He’s being hyperbolic. Mr Free Healthcare was not pro-mutilation. What he means is that you have to be willing to make sacrifices to prevent sin. The context of the eye metaphor is him condemning adultery and warning that even something as easy, casual and small as a look full of lustful intent can lead to further, worse sin if you don’t notice your sin, hold yourself accountable for it and do the work to not let it influence your decisions. This will probably be hard. It could be very, very painful. Changing your perspective can feel as horrible as plucking out your eye, so many people can’t bring themselves to do it. But although it won’t feel that way in the moment, it’s healthier for our general wellbeing in the long run to abandon traits and behaviours that damage ourselves and/or others.

(You may notice that Jesus’s teaching that you can have sinned, redeem yourself by giving up sin and thus escape damnation is the founding principle of the Hazbin Hotel. You may also notice that it contradicts everything the Exorcists believe.)

The Exorcists seem to follow this idea of painfully excising badness for the sake of the greater good devoutly to the point of placing it above teachings like ‘Thou shalt not kill’, with their job being to remove sin, in the form of sinners, to protect Heaven. Hence the missing right eyes. They’re a declaration of moral righteousness and inability to stumble.

But the truth is that the Exorcists all have their right eyes. Their flawlessness is a facade. Underneath, they are untouched, think themselves morally untouchable and, as shown by their horror and outrage when even one of them is killed, would much rather be physically untouchable too. This perfectly represents their complete unwillingness to acknowledge their own faults, let alone improve. They are never the ones who sacrifice. They force the sinners to sacrifice and don’t compensate it with any salvation. They metaphorically rip out the sinners’ eyes, but still condemn their entire bodies as inherently, permanently sinful. So they’ll just have to do another Extermination to get the other eyes! And another one to cut off their right hands! And so on until there’s nothing left.

The only exception to the rule is Vaggie, both in appearance and character. Her mask has the left eye crossed out instead. Even before her expulsion, she’s set apart to the audience as an Exorcist who has the capacity to, shall we say, see a different side of things. Her mask having its ‘sinful’ right eye reflects her understanding that the Exorcist worldview is wrong.

When she almost kills a demon child, her hateful vision clears. She discards the part of herself that’s an unquestioning, merciless agent of death, terror and grief… and as punishment for what Lute perceives as treacherous weakness, gets her eye plucked out.

Of course Lute leaves her with only the ‘sinful’ eye. It brands Vaggie forever as the inversion, a perversion, of what the Exorcists are meant to be.

You know, all this talk of eye removal in the Bible reminds me of another line - ‘an eye for an eye’. Adam directly quotes it in “Hell is Forever”. He uses it to frame the Exterminations as Old Testament-style punitive justice; the sinners did harm and so they receive it. But putting aside the debate about how ethical the concept of revenge is, the entire point of taking an eye for an eye is that it’s proportional. The punishment fits the crime. If someone cuts your eye out, you shouldn’t murder their whole family in front of them and then slowly disembowel them to death. That would be the sin of wrath. You should just make them pay without excessive pain or collateral damage. This is the fairest form of revenge.

The Exorcists don’t do that! The Exterminations aren’t proportional to the wrongs of all they hurt, nor was Vaggie’s brutal punishment equivalent to her extremely mild insubordination. Lute literally takes Vaggie’s eye, and more, after Vaggie does nothing to her! That’s the opposite of the phrase! Adam and his soldiers are wrathful and cruel, deriving satisfaction from others’ suffering. But they just can’t stop going on and on about how disgustingly evil the sinners are, in total hypocrisy… despite some of the sinners being far better people than the genocidal Exorcists are… it’s like they’re obsessed with specks of dust in the sinners’ eyes when they have massive logs stuck in their own. Oh hey, that’s in the Bible too!

[perseidlion]

I'm new to the KAOS fandom, and I honestly love the way the show is riffing off myth.

I've seen some rumblings of some people thinking they're changing too much. But, uhhh, the show definitely never promised they'd be sticking close to myth by its whole *gestures broadly* deal. Also like...WHICH version of the myths? There are so many and they changed, sometimes drastically over time. KAOS is just really continuing the tradition of remixing these characters and the stories.

I feel like the people who are saying this takes it too far probably have a superficial understanding of Greek and Roman mythology. Cause if you really dig into it, these stories are weird, contradictory, raunchy, violent and tragic.

I was a Classics major for two years (before I decided I couldn't learn Latin or Greek which was required to study primary sources, so I switched majors.) And let me tell you, KAOS is VERY accurate to certain portrayals of the gods. Not all, of course, but many.

Zeus is absolutely a horndog dick who sleeps with all sorts of people and spreads his seed everywhere. I mean, he straight-up disguised himself as other people to have sex with their partners. Animals, too!

Hera is incredibly petty and vindictive and transforms people into all sorts of things as punishment. She was especially hard on any of Zeus' lovers she caught, or his kids from different mothers.

Everyone was doing adultery all the time.

Hades wasn't a meek corporate type, but he also wasn't a devil analogue as he often gets interpreted as in pop culture. He's definitely a big ole grump and doesn't seem to have a soft side, but he's not often portrayed as evil. Zeus is not God and Hades is not Satan. That's really applying a Judeo-Christian framework to Greek mythology.

The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice was always more about grief and not being able to let go than about the power of true love.

The gods gained obedience and worship through fear. They absolutely punished people who didn't worship they way they wanted them to.

The gods were a giant, powerful, highly dysfunctional family with lots of petty grievances and grudges.

The Greeks had no concept of gay or straight. They conceptualized sex and sexuality as acts, not an identity. They were more concerned about who was the passive person in a sexual encounter (for reasons of class and manliness) rather than what gender their partner was. So it makes sense that this modern retelling would have a similiarly open an undefined concept of sex and sexuality.

Greek myth is full of people who change genders or who swap back and forth through magic or prayer, or were both male and female at the same time. Caeneus in the show, is based on a real myth of someone AFAB who wished to become a man.

(sidenote: Misia Butler is so damned charming and handsome.)

It's also important to remember that the religion of the ancient Greeks lasted a very long time and changed over that time. There was also this really interesting dichotomy between the gods of plays and myths and the gods they worshipped in a religious context. That was one thing that is really hard to wrap your head around when you're studying Greek and Roman myth, especially when you're studying it alongside plays and epic poetry.

The gods of the stories who were being vengeful and petty and the gods they sacrificed to and worshipped were not the same - and they were. Sort of imagine it like Christian peoples' perceptions of Jesus vs Jesus in pop culture. Like, if you studied Dogma or Good Omens or something alongside the Bible and didn't distinguish between religion and pop culture, you'd definitely be confused.

So there are all these competing stores, some benevolent and holy, some raucous and scandalous. KAOS very ably continues in that tradition by remixing and recontextualizing the source material for a new audience.

They do some reaaalll weird thing with timelines, though! They squish together myth and pick and choose different versions and inspiration. But honestly that doesn't bother me because it's all done deliberately and not out of ignorance. They're changing what they've changed to serve the story.

Plus it's great fun. It's one of the most creative shows I've seen in ages. Go and watch it! As a bonus, it's also hella queer.

[sciderman]

I really don't like how we're just glossing over the fact that Gwen cheated on Peter let alone MJ hiding this from him.

who's glossing? i'm writing a whole fic about it.

2. they were on a BREAK

3. you're forgetting that peter and gwen are dramatic irony the couple™ and at exactly the precise same time gwen had her tongue down mary jane's throat peter had his tongue down harry's. the exact same night.

the joke is that peter has been burying all this guilt for years thinking that he'd failed gwen and was terrible and dishonest and she was an angel who was too good for him until he finds out. gwen was always just as much of a messy bitch as he was. but he was too busy spiralling in his own messes to realise that gwen was just as messy as he was.

4. mj didn't tell him, sure. but that's because she assumed gwen told him. i don't think mj's the sort of girl to say "hey by the way i fucked your girlfriend shitlips" even if that would be hilarious. she didn't think it was a secret though and definitely thought gwen told peter.

and yeah. i'd hesitate to call it cheating - they were definitely on a break. they might not have laid down a law, and definitely both feel ridiculously guilty about it, but they. were. on a break.

i think it was just a necessary thing, for both of them.

i think for me, i'm not about the moral black-and-white of relationships - it always got me down when people point at the piña colada song saying it's terrible. it's about cheating. that's objectively bad and evil so says it in the bible thou shall not commit adultery yadda yadda yadda. no, no, shut up. that's not what the song is about. the song is about rediscovering there's stuff you've overlooked about your partner. that you can think you love someone, but not actually know them. and you can learn more about them, and realise they're not what you thought, and you can fall in love with them all over again. for me, that's like, the most romantic thing ever, actually. and those who look at it through the "this song is about cheating" lens completely sleep on how genuinely, sincerely cute and romantic it is. that it's a song not about cheating, but discovering stuff you didn't know about your partner, and falling in love with them all over again. finding out that actually, you're both the kind of person who's crazy and lustful for life enough to run away with a romantic stranger on a wild escape, but you were both too afraid to admit that to each other. i love that song. it's so much more sincere and human than any stupid love song. nay sayers get away from me.

i think peter and gwen are a lot like that piña colada song. neither of them are a villain. both of them make mistakes and both of them were messy and both of them had stuff to figure out before they could make it work together.

i... sighs... i'd like people to kind of stop expecting these guys to be right all the time. they're disasters. i wouldn't be interested to write them in any other way. and i promise you wouldn't be interested to read it, either. i'm here for the messy bitches who have stuff to figure out. shout out to the messy bitches who have stuff to figure out.

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

😡🤬🖕

“Kelly Johnson features the couple’s podcast on the website of her company, Onward Christian Counseling Services, which promotes Bible-based pastoral counseling. Her website also includes a link to its 2017 operating agreement, which lays out the corporate bylaws for the company ― and embraces a number of socially conservative beliefs about LGBTQ+ people and women’s reproductive rights.

The agreement states that Onward Christian Counseling Services is grounded in the belief that sex is offensive to God if it is not between a man and a woman married to each other. It puts being gay, bisexual or transgender in the same category as someone who has sex with animals or family members, calling all of these examples of “sexual immorality.”

“We believe and the Bible teaches that any form of sexual immorality, such as adultery, fornication, homosexuality, bisexual conduct, bestiality, incest, pornography or any attempt to change one’s sex, or disagreement with one’s biological sex, is sinful and offensive to God,” says the eight-page business document.

This agreement also refers to “pre-born babies” and says the company is committed to defending and protecting all human life, “from conception through natural death.”

Speaker Johnson’s signature is on the last page. He notarized the document on July 1, 2017. Notaries are not required to read the documents they notarize and are sometimes discouraged from doing so for privacy reasons.”

[winterxisxcomingx]

How would sera react to Emily dating Charlie and vaggie

ready for some angst?

to put it simply, Sera wasn't happy to hear the news

and Emily was afraid to tell her, but... but they already told Charlie's dad and Vaggie's friends... Emily couldn't be the only one to back out

she went alone to talk with sera, her girlfriends waiting for her behind the closed door

(she & her girlfriends were later so thankful for Charlie's good hearing)

Sera expected to hear something she won't like. She expected that Emily committed adultery. Maybe even with woman - after all, she was in hell for so long, bad influence could badly affect her

but it was worse, so so much worse

Sera's first reaction was disgust and resentment. She was looking at younger seraphim with terrifying fury in her eyes, and she didn't think for a second before she slapped Emily's cheek,

"How dare you, Emily, you, the daughter of Heaven, one of God's children, to commit such a sinful sin!"

Emily was too surprised, too confused, to even answer Sera. And Sera never stopped talking, or yelling, really

"...-aughter! You know what Holy Bible said! 'But because of the temptation to sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband.' and you're not even a Human nor a soul nor a daughter of both! This is another sin to your growing list of them!"

At that moment, Emily, touching her already swollen and red cheek, started crying. She knew, she knew, she never forgot Heaven's teachings but... but how could that be wrong, this, this shouldn't be wrong! Everyone involved were happy so how-? But she was silenced by Sera, couldn't say a word against her angry monologue

"... Tell me, did you commit adultery too? And with a demon and fallen angel to that? Are you proud of yourself?"

Sera take a hold of Emily's arms, squeezing it way too hard

"S-Sera, please, I beg you, s-stop, I didn't mean to, It isn't like that-"

"Was it worth it, Emily? WERE THEY WORTH IT!?"

The last thing Emily saw, were her girlfriends breaking through the closed door. Charlie already in her beautiful demon form, Vaggie's weapon ready. She heard their voices as her vision was going black. Before she fell onto the floor, she could hear their panicked voices and two pair of hands holding her from falling on the hard floor.

After that, Charlie and Vaggie didn't let Emily see Sera for a long, longest time. Who could blame them, tho?

[chinesegal]

@oldshrewsburyian

in regards to my earlier question about what would be the likely reaction of a royal court to a queen committing adultery, I want to tell you about a fantasy story I want to write:

I'm thinking of writing a story meant to be a retelling of The Book of Esther from the Hebrew bible with Vashti and Esther as protagonist with the story being told from their POVs.

In The Book of Esther, the king of Persia throws a huge banquet attended by all the members of the court, dignitaries and afterwards all the inhabitants of his capital as well. On the last day of the latter banquet, Ahasuerus orders the queen, Vashti, to display her beauty before the guests by coming before them wearing her crown. She refuses, infuriating Ahasuerus, who on the advice of his counselors removes her from her position, and that's the end of her appearance in the story.

Vashti is portrayed in a rather unsympathetic light in traditional jewish sources, and the things written about her by the authors would be interesting to analyze from a feminist perspective to say the least:

(in my opinion it comes across as twisted to assume "sinful intentions" despite the men and women dining separately, since by our standards that's rather modest).

Traditionally, the king's command was for Vashti to appear "wearing nothing but her crown" which means her refusal was standing up to sexual coercion and exploitation.

I've been told by the historian that "The decadent hypersexual elements are characteristic of both Greek views on the Persian harem and exaggerated Jewish portrayals of eastern conquerors immediately before and after the Persian period." In light of this, I want to create a depiction of life in the Persian royal court which while not historically accurate, faithfully captures their social attitudes and material lives, especially when it comes to gender and sex.

In contrast to the rather sexualized depiction Vashti has in traditional sources I wanted to explore feminist themes by showing what it would actually be like for royal women when it came to sexual freedom and the lack thereof-while men had access to multiple wives, concubines and courtesans, women needed to appear pure and virtuous at all times and to have sex outside of marriage would be an extreme transgression with dire consequences if found out.

I was surprised to learn that it is possible for medieval European royal courts to have a "live and let live" attitude in regards to a queen taking an extramarital lover, causing me to doubt my earlier assumption that it would be nearly impossible for a queen to get away with an affair, but I'm still determined to explore sexual double standards for men and women in my story.

If it's OK I want your opinions on my ideas.

[bethanydelleman]

Rant against hypocrisy in Christianity, inspired by Ruth by Elizabeth Gaskell. Spoilered for people who have religious trauma. Also I might swear and I won't even feel bad about it because this is the right place for swears.

Where, in the entire fucking Bible, which I have in fact read, does it say that if a woman ever has sex before marriage that she is never to entire polite society again? And no, "commit adultery" does not count, because that means cheating within marriage. If a sixteen year old girl has sex with a twenty-three year old man outside of marriage, where exactly does it say to throw out the whole woman, and of course her kid because he ought to be condemned forever too.

That is 100 years of punishment, at least, upon this poor woman and her child, because she dared to have sex outside of marriage. I just can't with this ridiculous level of punishment. In the Christian religion, which teaches forgiveness. The very Gospels tell of Jesus forgiving a woman who did commit adultery. And of eating at the houses of prostitutes. But no, a teenager must burn forever because she dared to have sex.

And no one is even suggesting to track down the father and throw him out of society. Nope. Just the woman. Throw out the whole woman but leave the man to make more of these women to throw in the trash. It's insane.

Ruth & A Woman of No Importance both have these "fallen" women who live a completely pure life afterwards, but that doesn't matter. And worse, they condemn themselves! For one sin in their youth. It's awful. At least in A Woman of No Importance another woman says to the fallen woman's face that she never did anything wrong.

And this isn't even the morality of the 1850s, I know this still happens, or has happened recently enough that it has affected living people. And it is always women who bear the largest portion of the blame.

It takes a lot for me to hold onto my religion these days. I go to an affirming and accepting church, but this shit comes up and makes me angry all over again. How do people pervert the Bible this badly?

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

does the Bible say marriage is only one man and one woman? I’ve been seeing some controversy about that on my dash and some saying the scripture was never clear about that.

The Bible could not be more clear about this. Marriage is rooted in the created order. Genesis 2:24

For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.

Jesus affirms that design in Mark 10:6-7 citing God's created order of marriage between a man and woman committing to each other until death is not meant to be broken. God wants this relationship to be completely pure, no third parties involved, not even in the thought life which He considers adultery of the heart (Matt 5:28). Proverbs 5 warns to be faithful to the wife of your youth and not go straying into relationships with adulterous women.

This design of God is good because He is good. Humanity cannot exist without this design. Man and woman getting together is how human beings are born. It doesn't work any other way. Nature makes it obvious, but our sinful opposition to God makes us pursue unnatural desires

Romans 1:24-28

Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen. For this reason God gave them up to dishonorable passions. For their women exchanged natural relations for those that are contrary to nature; and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error. And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done.

God hates unfaithfulness in marriage and the corruption of His design because He created marriage to reflect His own goodness.

Ephesians 5:31-32

"Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.

Paul, quoting God's created order in Genesis 2, says that the relationship between a husband and wife shows us what Christ has done for His Church. Christ nourishes and cherishes those who believe in Him and gave up His life for them, and the Church loves and honors Him.

When we say marriage doesn't really matter and can mean whatever we want it to mean we are saying God's love does not endure forever, that we do not need Him to provide for us and we do not need to honor Him. We can be our own gods and find love in our own ways. You cannot have love without God because God is love (1 John 4:16).

Love becomes entirely about me and what I want instead of sacrificing and serving for someone else. That self-centered world is how we create our own destruction.

[drconstellation]

Portable People

Muriel: "Can I...Can I take a book with me? I was looking at one earlier. They're like people, only portable." S2E6

Crowley's yeeting them around while stress-cleaning the bookshop, Jimbriel is trying to sell them to the investigating archangels, and Muriel just wants to read them all. Should we give a second thought to any of these books?

Er, yes. Yes, we should, I say.

In Crowley's case, both times he tosses the books aside (both in S2E3) it is adjacent to a conversation about memory.

In the first one he remarks to Jim that he doesn't remember why "they" invented gravity. He tosses the books - records of the past, records of (human) knowledge - then moves right back into the present, observing Rodney the Stunt Fly with Jim and then describing his Operation Lovebirds plan to him.

The same with the second GIF - Crowley has to make a decision between answering the phone (which is Aziraphale calling from Edinburgh) or the books. The present wins again, and he has the phone conversation with Aziraphale.

Crowley: Pffft. Humans. You don't let yourself get too attached. Aziraphale: No. No, I suppose not. Um… You haven't actually been selling any of the books, have you?

While we get the impression of Crowley not wanting to hang on to the past, as if its something that's hurt him before and he doesn't want to repeat that, on the other hand Aziraphale was having a lovely time remembering Mr Dalrymple the Scottish surgeon from 1826. This from an angel who hates getting rid of memories books, and we learn keeps a diary! Hmm.

I suppose the question is, is it a real memory problem on Crowley's side or an affected one to get around certain...awkwardness to do with his history? Such as not remembering working with Saraqael or fighting next to Furfur before the Fall?

Jimbriel, on the other hand, is more like Muriel. He is having a wonderful time discovering the delights of Humanity in the bookshop for the first time and is sooo excited to show it to the archangels when they arrive on Aziraphale's doorstep!

[btw, do you notice which side Jimbriel is standing on here? Its actually interesting to pay attention to which shoulder-side he is on in S2, because he is rarely on the left - even in S1, as well]

So while Aziraphale tries to, um, explain what humans do, Jimbriel "fans" one in Saraqael's face and then tries to (horror!) kill Rodney the Stunt fly with the Wicked Bible - the one with the printing error that says "You Shall Commit Adultery." *ahem* (not looking at you Jimbriel, oh no, not all...) Good thing it never works, Jimbriel declares, as the dust flies dramatically.

Edit: This book-banging episode is also a Monty Python reference! I found out over in my Assistant Bookseller meta that Jim's Fair Isle's style vest is a nod the Gumby characters, who all wear that style of vest and have the catchphrase "My brain hurts!" They also bang bricks together occasionally. *sigh* The things you didn't expect to find...Gabriel the Gumby...

The angels take no notice of Jim's antics. Since when do they take any notice of what goes on with humans, anyway? Oh, yes, they are going to keep a close eye on Aziraphale, but some idiotic human - nah! Don't care!

Then there's this travesty:

Aaah! The horror! Aziraphale reluctantly lets Maggie and Nina throw the books of human knowledge at the demons. But that doesn't work in the long run. Only the angel himself can solve this crisis.