#AltarBoy
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Altar Boy, Good Friday, Mesta, Chios, Greece, 2024.
#Chios#Greece#Aegean#Europe#AltarBoy#AvailableLight#SummiluxM50mmASPH#Mediterranean#BlackandWhite#Candle#Island#JohnPerivolaris#Mesta#shadows#GoodFriday#Chiaroscuro#Church#Face#Easter#Faith#Grain#Christianity#Journey#Leica M11 Monochrom#Orthodox#Religion#Youth
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The Altar Boy, By Jeff Stanford, 2023.
#© jeff stanford#midjourney#midjourneyart#ai#discord#digitalart#aiart#altarboy#catholic#church#priests#religion
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rest in peace 2019 me, you would have loved altar boy.
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#altar boy and his priest#altarboys#catholic#the pope#spiked drinks#spiked#funny#funny post#lol#funny meme#funny memes#lmao#too funny#fuck around and find out
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it makes me uncomfortable so im not gonna write any of the exorcist characters saying too many slurs, though i'm keeping regan's last insult to karras and that one proposal from dyer, but i'm trying to get creative instilling this sense of need-to-pass dread that would push dyer to leave and karras to mental breakdown by the end (bad ending/book ending). from my experience they much prefer "homosexual" or "tomboy" and bringing up saint paul anyway. then again. different language and different time.
#'intrinsically disordered' from snobby catholic philosophers#'homosexual tendencies' a classic bitchy way of saying it#'priests that sashay during procession' uncomfortable joke at a party perhaps#'preference for altarboys' you already know what that means
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i was today years old when I connected St. Sebastian being shot with so many arrows he looked like a pincushion, with Sebastian Dragonage2 being an archer.
I am probably late to the party but my immediate reaction to realising this was wanting to throw something out the window
#the funny thing was it was someone thinking an rvb post was about the irl saint#and im like. hang. hang on a fucking second#anyway. much 2 think about#well maybe not that much#but my brain is catching on this like felt on velcro#anyway there's no way this is a coincidence he's a fantasy catholicism altarboy#im afraid to maintag this i dont know how big the da fandom is lmao#i am used to the like 20 people in the rvb fandom at any one time
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As a Catholic I approve this message and will wear those under my altarboy robes
booty shorts that say 'i <3 heavily sexualized catholic imagery' on the ass
#jk i havent been an altarboy since i was like 16#my church has adult altarservers so i could start again#remind me to share my embarassing altarboy tales#catholic#tee hee
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'SINS OF THE FATHER'
PRIEST!NANAMI X READER
✟ the liturgy: (summary) Even the most pious of men succumb to temptation and Father Kento is no exception... especially when it comes to you. (Priest!Nanami POV) ✟ the confession: (tw) dark themes, sacrilege, adultery, blasphemy, jealously, exhibitionism, blackmail/manipulation, heavy biblical references, cunnalingus, fingering, riding dick, shoe fucking, blow jobs, panty sniffing, olfactophilia, dacryphilia, lightly suggested altarboy!yuji (aged-up) x reader, oil tycoon!gojo x reader, suggested mentions of reader x other jjk men, corruption, masturbation and angst as you are literally tormenting this poor priest (lol). ✟ the sins: (wc) 4.1k ✟ the opening rites:(a/n) i grew up catholic (got confirmed too) and went to catholic school but haven't stepped inside a church in literal years. i was honestly surprised how many bible references came so easily from pure memory while writing this.
Sanctified conviction radiates off Father Kento as he approaches the inordinately adorned wood carved pulpit with authority to address his congregation.
Despite the uncomfortable Summer heat there is no lack of attendance, a sea of familiar faces packed into the small town chapel. The buzzing song of cicadas and soft oscillation of the large fan circulating humid air through the church are the only sounds heard as the masses eagerly await his homily.
You were among them of course.
Sitting front and center– a small saccharine smile graced your lips while your doe-like eyes, captivated and attentive, were made even bigger as they raised to the podium to meet his own.
Bible open, Father Kento takes a full breath pause before he finally speaks, his gaze is benevolent yet his voice is firm as it projects over the congregation.
“Dear Brothers and Sisters– Let us reflect on the gospel of First Corinthians Chapter 10 Verse 13…and The Lord says– ‘There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man—”
Oh but you– you were anything but common– and irregardless of any higher standing his status as a clergy member bestowed upon him he was still a man of flesh and blood.
No matter the effort exerted, Father Kento had been unable to keep his eyes from yours during the service. The magnetism of unknown and certainly unholy forces drew him to you time and again without fail.
No beauty in town rivaled yours, not with an angelic countenance that complemented your delicate features so gracefully in your every action.
Yours was a form of divine femininity rivaling that of Venus herself.
If that wasn’t beguiling enough, your honeyed voice and syrupy words had the ability to sway even the most feral of temperaments. Leaving those who heard it at your mercy like a gentle but deadly siren.
“—but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able—”
Is God faithful?
Ironic how you had Father Kento questioning the very foundations of his own faith while simultaneously indoctrinating God’s dogma to his faithful parishioners.
If you were a test he had failed.
Many times.
Even the first man, Adam, had fallen to Eve’s allures and not even the warrior strength of Samson was able to overcome Delilah’s seductions.
Who was he to prevail where the biblical idols had fallen?
What actual grace could God give man against the sensual temptation that he had carved from man’s own rib?
Father Kento had felt forsaken of God’s grace ever since you had approached him after mass to quietly request the rites of confession. He should have refused when you kindly solicited him to perform them in the cooler confines of the secluded rectory over the oven-like heat of a chapel confessional box in summer.
Led astray so effortlessly by your genial charms as you looked to him like a lamb lost and addressed him so meekly as “Father Kento”. He would have just as easily given you access to heaven then if it were in his power.
Yet it was you who had so graciously led him to the gates of Zion— which so conveniently happened to reside in the velvety depths between your thighs.
Consequently, the only sins that were confessed in the rectory that day were the moist squelches of your peach-ripened pussy gushing around his cock and coalescing with the frenzied sounds of hot flesh slapping together in unison.
A child of Lilth incarnate to be sure but you looked so pure and celestial, even in ecstasy.
Hair matted to the sides of your face drenched in sweat while your nimble hands clutched onto his clerical collar. Your eyes filled with such loving devotion and you rode him earnestly as if it was your life’s penance.
Father Kento in turn gives you his absolution by taking you from behind. The swell of your plump rear rippling against his hips and shared fluids splashing onto his hard abdomen feverishly drive him closer to God than he’d ever been.
Yes, he is weak.
But Father Kento held the conviction that not even The Vicar of Christ, the Pope himself would be able to resist the vice grip of your silken cunt as if its true purpose was never to bear life but to wring out the very essence of the soul of man.
He’d fallen prey to a day-walking succubus on hallowed holy grounds.
No– Father Kento was certain if this church had ever truly been blessed as a house of God you would have caught aflame the moment you graced its threshold.
“—but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye are able to bear it’.”
Father Kento concluded the passage. Nonetheless, neither it nor any other doctrine had provided him the solace of escape and nor biblical strength did he receive to endure against his temptations.
There was no resisting you.
There was no escaping you.
For anyone you cast your sights on.
This is exemplified by the obvious effect you have on the young alter boy Yuji.
Barely old enough to be called a man, the youth's entire body flinches whenever you spare a sweet glance in his direction.
Has Yuji’s innocence already been stolen?
Father Kento must quell the inkling of jealousy at the thought lest he stumble over his words and shame himself further.
He was a man in every sense of the word and a man of the cloth, he would not compete for your adulterous affections with his own altar boy.
Even so, Father Kento’s lip does curl in disapproval at the deep flush of guilt on Yuji’s cheeks. Yuji clumsily trips over his own feet, nearly permitting the blessed vessels for the rites of eucharist to fall to the ground.
Harlot! Have you really allowed someone other than himself to bathe in the sins of Jezebel?
Maintaining composure through his sermon, Father Kento reminds himself that an inexperienced youth is no threat.
However it is more than likely Yuji– who normally is so oblivious in nature– had likewise become aware of the wicked exhibition of sacrilege occurring beneath the prayer cloth in your lap at the very hands of your own husband– Satoru Gojo.
“So you may ask where does that leave us as followers of Christ? Temptations lure us into doing, saying or thinking something that does not reflect who we really are as sons and daughters of God.”
Neither you nor your husband were Christ’s children so none of these ideologies applied to either of you.
Nefarious philistines the both of you– godless and immoral.
Although Father Kento was for certain your husband, Oil Tycoon, Satoru Gojo– was the only one whose deeds could put yours to shame.
The white haired devil had descended upon the quiet small town like a thief in the night to greedily capture the first few drops of black gold that surged from the earth before it could even fall to the ground. Quickly buying up land and resources, in less than a fortnight Gojo essentially had control over the entire town– its priest included.
But as he became more wealthy, so did the town and its people. Satoru Gojo built up the town around him to match his own gluttony for opulence, taking the town and its people away from simple old time comforts and into the more complex modern age.
Therefore the man was seen as a saintly savior, rather than the lecherous leech he truly was.
To Father Kento’s credit, if he deserved any at all– he had initially held strong in his faith.
He was not a man tempted by the power that would come from a promotion to bishop if a larger church was built. Nor was he tempted by monetary gain. The treasures he had always held most valuable were only those to be found in God’s kingdom.
Familiar with the tricks masked by flamboyant arrays of grandior, Father Kento’s folly had been his own headstrong vainglory in being a man above the lures of temptation. Thus he failed in recognizing you as the seductive snake in sheep's clothing the cunning tycoon Gojo had sent to be his undoing.
And you had never once failed to unravel him.
Even now Father Kento struggles to keep himself together as you inconspicuously lean against your husband, your head resting gently on his shoulder while the dainty fan you are holding obscures the lower half of your face.
What appears as an innocuous attempt to halt the perspiration rolling from your nape into your heaving bosom is merely a front to hide the sinful ‘o’ your cherry lips form.
Your chest softly heaves although your labored breaths aren’t from the humid heat shrouding the church– but the increasing warmth dampening in your loins. All which had been provoked by your husband slipping two fingers through the buttons of your thin sundress and into your pussy, lightly teasing its gooey folds. Gojo’s movements are mostly concealed by the cloth but Father Kento can make out the skillful circular motions stroking your spongy bud and causing the sporadic twitch in your knees.
You had writhed similarly under him. You were always far too sensitive.
Fat tears would never fail to pour from your bright eyes when he would latch his mouth onto your sex. You would be his last supper if ever given the choice. If heaven had a flavor it would surely be akin to the taste of your pink candied cunt and he knew of no sweeter treat on earth.
Twas no wonder then how Father Kento easily loses all sense of self when flicking his tongue into your gaping slit. Swirling the appendage within your gummy walls he gluttonously slurps down the steady stream of your flowing nectar.
Your mewls and cries for him are far lovelier than even the song of cherubim. Father Kento has committed them to memory and as such he knows when they reach a certain octave– your pitch so high it's practically soundless– you're nearing your nirvana.
Arriving at your peak you would thread your hands through his blonde locks and thrust your hips forward as if his mouth were salvation itself. Your manicured nails would dig into his scalp to rock his head deeper into your plump pussy. The actions would beckon his tongue to finally give you its mercy by dragging it flat up your folds to suckle and nip at your swollen clit.
You never called on God then.
Nor your husband.
Only Father Kento.
Coincidentally, Father Kento’s gaze locks with Gojo’s for a brief moment and Gojo’s pale lips curl into smirk.
A fleeting look is shared before contact is broke but the message is clear:
Satoru Gojo own’s everything in this town.
Gojo owns your cunt.
Your cunt owns Father Kento.
Therefore by proxy Gojo owns him.
The revelation has Father Kento showing the white of his knuckles from the intensity of his grip on the pulpit podium as you simultaneously release a silent scream brazenly cumming on your husband’s dexterous fingers in the middle of mass.
“The time now is propitious for us all to make a journey of conversion, led by sincere faith to allow ourselves to be confronted with the Gospel. Let us confirm this commitment by sharing in The Body and The Blood of Christ.”
Proceeding with communion the altar boy Yuji stands next to Father Kento holding the tray where the blessed chalice of wine and platter of thin wafers reside as the congregation dutifully exits their rows to receive the eucharist.
As it is the more modern way to receive communion the majority of the congregation choses to place their non-dominant palm up over the other to respectfully receive the host. Yet traditionally, the priest placed the blessed wafer directly on the tongue of the one receiving. This practice was typically only seen by the elderly, the most exceedingly pious and of course— you.
When it is your turn to approach you beam brightly as you and all your beauty seem to float before him.
“The Body of Christ.”
Father Kento raises the host before you.
“Amen.”
You obediently replied.
Like expected your eyes fluttered to close as your pillowy lips parted in order to accept the host directly in your mouth.
God help him, this was the most sacred part of mass but the way your deviant tongue lulls out hot and thick with your saliva pooled on the edge and threatening to spill onto your lips has Father Kento shifting at his post.
You look just as compliant and yearning to receive as when you had been on your knees before him taking his cock in your mouth whole.
Father Kento delicately placed the host in your mouth in a similar fashion as to when he would tap the tip of his bulbous leaking cockhead onto your tongue.
So willing to please you kiss his angry red mushroom tip to appease his cock, swirling your tongue over the tiny hole before puckering it between your lips to greedily suck any drops of pre that dribbled forth as you pumped his base.
You were a tease.
That much was evident both then and now as you extended the tip of your tongue to caress the tip of his finger. A tiny kitten lick, but nevertheless a tingle ran through his cock in remembrance.
“The Blood of Christ.”
Father Kento presents the wine symbolizing the blood before you.
“Amen.”
Again you closed your eyes and allowed Father Kento to press the chalice against your parted lips.
The very picture of amenability, you actually enjoyed when he went rougher on you as a result of your teasing. Father Kento would gather your hair into a tight grip as he not-so-gently rammed his cock past your tonsils and down your throat.
It was unnatural and ungodly for a person to lack any semblance of a gag reflex such as you.
In response you pressed your fingers into his thighs– not as a means of resistance, but to control your own lust as you began shamelessly humping your mound against his leg. You were always desperate to feel any small sensation against your cunt while he ravaged your mouth.
Of course, Father Kento would oblige you and in turn he is rewarded with the heavy moans that would vibrate around his cock as his oxford loafer pushed up into your soaked core. Your white lace lingerie did little to contain your juices and as such Father Kento made use of the fluids leaking from your pussy as polish to shine his shoe.
Having sipped the wine from the chalice you peer up at Father Kento as if seeking his approval.
He gives you a small nod.
Similar to the one he bestows upon you after his seed has filled your stomach and you lick your lips as if it was his essence and not The Blood of Christ that lingered on them.
In the beginning, he had prayed long and hard to forget those sinful images of you that would intrude unwelcomed into his mind.
Yet you always had ways of sucking him back in.
Such as leaving your soiled panties stuffed between his headboard. Father Kento thought he was going mad when even after changing the sheets thrice was he still plagued with your smell.
He should have burned the offensive garment as soon as it was discovered and yet he treated it with reverence as if it were a holy object of salvation. Truly an euphoric experience, on days he couldn’t have you he’d bury his nose into the fabric murmuring blasphemy as he worshiped the very scent of you while jerking his cock.
When Father Kento finally ceased trying to resist you he then had the fleeting thought he could save you. Bring you to God and away from your villainous husband.
But you were no Mary Magdalene, there was no returning you to the flock.
You will not leave your husband who provides you wealth and security. Father Kento is not so enamored he holds illusions that extend beyond his reality. There is nothing Father Kento owns and nothing he can offer you but himself.
The singular consolation of the tragic circumstances is that Father Kento is sure you prefer his touch. The touch of a seemingly pious man who only has desires for you.
Unlike your scoundrel of a husband who Father Kento was sure had not remained faithful to your marriage bed. Not the way most of the female townsfolk threw themselves at Satoru Gojo. If he had no qualms using you to achieve his means he certainly had none for himself.
You were simply a pawn to be played, as was Father Kento.
“Before we depart I leave you with these words: Let every day be a new day to renew the promises of our Baptism: We renounce Satan and all his works and seductions — for sh– *ahem* HE – is the seducer. Now go forth, Brothers and Sisters and remain true in the light of God.”
The closing rites over, Father Kento has never been more relieved nor eager for the conclusion of a mass. Watching the congregation mingle in the entrance, he gives his farewell blessings to the parishioners.
A few still remained however you were nowhere to be seen.
This was not odd, the Gojos were a busy couple, likely excusing themselves immediately to attend to more important affairs.
Or so he hoped.
“There you are, Father! Riveting service, as always.”
With a devious grin and a firm drawn-out handshake Gojo greets Father Kento. Turning to face the devil himself, Father Kento greets Satoru in turn with a strained smile and an even firmer grip.
Yet still he is unable to show you any of the wrath you justly deserve and Father Kento’s smile is more genuine when he faces you.
You regard Father Kento coyly as your husband’s arm tightens around your waist. Your face is flushed and it’s evident you are still weakened from the orgasm your husband gave you earlier in front of the entire congregation.
That knowledge though is only held by the three of you, God and perhaps the altar boy Yuji.
Father Kento had never known you to be silent when cumming so the exertion of the effort you expended likely weighed heavy on you as displayed by how you are clinging to Gojo to keep from swaying on your feet.
“Thank you. I am but a humble messenger of The Lord’s wor–.”
“– Wait. Hold that thought!”
Father Kento’s eyebrow twitches as Gojo's attention is momentarily called elsewhere.
Every Sunday, a growing number of parishioners would seek Satoru Gojo’s greeting and recognition after service over that of their priest Father Kento.
True to character Gojo makes an obnoxious show of charisma which leaves the last group of parishioners fawning and singing his praises as they exit.
“Forgive me, Father. Where were we? Ah– Of course! Yes, you are quite excellent in your delivery of God’s word, a true testament to your faith!”
His flattery is so obviously false in its sincerity that Father Kento is not surprised when Gojo’s sordid smirk returns.
“But you are not only a messenger for The Lord… isn’t that right, Father Kento?”
Father Kento warily clutches onto the large cross dangling from the rosary around his neck as Gojo continues.
“I’ll need you to spread mine as well. Haven’t you heard? I have plans to run for Mayor.”
Mayor.
The diabolical fiend truly knew no limits in his quest for control over the town.
“I’ll need you to come over to dinner tonight to consult with the rest of my top supporters.”
Father Kento steeled himself..
There was nothing he could do to stop Satoru Gojo from being mayor but his infatuation with you aside, he could not walk straight into the lion's den to collude with heathens.
It would be the final nail in his coffin, Gojo would indeed own his soul.
“Oh! Y/N is prepping a feast too… aren’t you, angel?”
Gojo’s grip on your waist trails lower to palm the fat of your ass and you clutch on to him tighter as you nod eagerly in agreement, biting your lip as his large hands knead into your cheeks through your wispy dress.
Your body is ever responsive to Gojo’s touch just like he trained you to be.
“I must refuse. I have duties here to attend, I couldn’t poss–”
“P-Please F-Father…”
And just like that your delicate voice cuts through his iron defenses like it were warm butter.
“…K-Kento, p-please come!”
Your request fumbles out of your lips as a cry as Gojo’s devilish fingers dip past your ass to prod at your cunt.
“You heard her Father. She wants you to come. Break bread with us, you will be among friends. Friends who know how to share, yeah? I’ll even share a piece of her cream pie for dessert.”
That had been the final straw. Gojo had gone too far this time.
You seeking him out was one matter but he would not allow Satoru Gojo of all people to dangle you in front of him like a master would dangle a treat to a dog.
“Begone, you foul heretic. I will not tolerate your mockery of me, this church nor God any longer.”
Commanding in his tone, Father Kento extends the cross of the rosary forward to Gojo as if he were casting a malevolent curse back down to hell.
Father Kento doesn’t have the courage to look at you though, he can’t. Not if he wants to take a triumphant stand against Satoru Gojo.
And so Father Kento closes his eyes and silently prays.
Immediately bored at such a devout display, Gojo sighs rolling his eyes.
“Alright, alright, Father. I get it. Whatever you say, jeez. It’s not like I need your support to become mayor– just thought it would be nice is all. ”
Father Kento remains silent as he listens to both of your footsteps exit the church but not before Gojo stops at the doors, his cheerful voice taking on a dangerous edge.
“Heh, you know, not everyone in this town is as pious as you Father. Sheriff Fushiguro has never been one to turn down a stack of bills but I’m sure tonight he would enjoy sharing in Y/N’s creampie if you don’t.”
Father Kento’s eyes open to flash red with fury.
Having received a satisfactory enough reaction from the priest, Gojo grins wildly as your own eyes widen in shock at your husband’s words.
Has Gojo only ever used you to manipulate him alone?
The thought remains as Father Kento doesn’t miss the pleading gaze directed at him from over your shoulder as you are led out of the church.
Goddammit– He couldn’t let you fall into the brutish clutches of Toji Fushiguro.
Toji may have been the sheriff but he was well-known for his oafish demeanor and greasy womanizing ways.
NO! He mustn’t think of you any longer.
Father Kento needs to clear his mind of you for good with prayer.
Prayer and solitude.
Deep prayer and extensive solitude was what he needed if he ever hoped to rise again to gain God’s favor. He needed to call upon The Lord’s strength one last time to remain at the parish tonight and defy Gojo’s will.
Father Kento couldn’t let the pleasures of flesh continue to manipulate the very fibers of his being in such a way.
The rosary still in his grasp Father Kento raises his hands close in prayer as a final call for God’s mercy… and then it hits him– wafting off his fingers, overwhelming his senses and igniting every nerve in his being.
The scent of your cunt.
The lingering perfume of your sinful drippings spilled on your husband’s hand during mass had been transferred to his own when Gojo shook his hand and held it so firmly.
The bastard.
The rush hits him hard and he feels dizzy as his ears begin to ring. Vertigo overtakes Father Kento as he holds the offending hand out as if he had been poisoned.
Leaning back against a wall to gather himself, Father Kento realizes once the manic pounding coursing through his veins begins throbbing in his loins that he’s fated for damnation.
This is the moment he’d always dreaded although ironic with the simple acceptance of it he feels no despair.
Father Kento’s conviction is finally clear as he is left with a singular truth that rang through his entire soul:
Whatever solace he would know, whatever peace he would have in this life, he would only find with his cock buried in the sweet embrace of your cunt.
✟
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
✟ the closing rites: (a/n) hell is hot and it's surely my destination after writing this. i tried to leave it a little ambiguous to whether y/n is actually in-love with nanami or just a sex-crazed slut eager to use him at the request of her husband. i don't have a pt.2 planned just fyi as this is meant to be a oneshot. although i do need to write more nanami so i will take requests for him! but fair warning i am very slow i apologize.
also shout out to the amazing art i used for the gfx ✟ art by mishwell
✟ REBLOG to be unburdened of your sins by Father Nanami but likes and comments are also appreciated!
upcoming: the nursery (yakuza!toji), please teach me! (ceo!gojo), request: teasing choso (college au), request: sukuna x blkreader, [none in any order as im at the mercy of my adhd lol]
#♋︎kizzatcooks#♋︎kizzatcookedthat#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader smut#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#kento nanami smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento smut#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru#jjk fanfiction#nanami fanfiction#nanami x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento#nanami fanfic#jjk nanami#priest kink#priest au#priest nanami#jjk gojo
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Good Friday, Mesta, Chios, Greece, 2024.
#Chios#Greece#Aegean#Europe#AltarBoy#AvailableLight#SummiluxM50mmASPH#Mediterranean#BlackandWhite#Candle#Island#JohnPerivolaris#Mesta#Hipstamatic#shadows#GoodFriday#Chiaroscuro#Church#Defocus#Face#Easter#Faith#Grain#Christianity#Journey#Leica M11 Monochrom#Orthodox#Religion#Unsharp#Youth
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a childhood friends altarboy tim and choirboy jason that got away from me and spiraled wildly out of hand
#sart#this is. old and was very precious to me bc i sunk a lot of work and love into it so i held off on posting it#but yeah heres the full thing#i posted the clip of jason a while back#i might post the tim clips separately#anyway!! productive use of my catholic upbringing#theres lore but eh
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let me give you how i see teenage!copia:
he dances in his underwear and socks to metallica. hairbrush microphone. over-slicked back hair. he just combed his gross late pubescent teen boy pencil mustache. hes sliding around in his white socks.
he's an orphan and doesn't know he'll cause the death of the three older men who actually talk with him during interchurch meetings and are actually his brothers. he's awkward and only an altarboy so no one really pays attention to him other than to gossip about how he must be a bastard because he has a demon eye.
but he's never smiled as hard at himself in the mirror as he has right now. he looks like a cool rockstar. he picks up the guitar he bought using his satanic altarboy salary and managed to play the opening riff without messing up.
maybe he can play a cover of fuel when he's Papa one day.
#YES I KNOW IT CAME OUT IN 1997 LET ME BE DELUSIONAL#papa copia#cardinal copia#copia#papa emeritus iv#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost#ghost band#ghumblr#ghost headcanons#metallica#fuel by metallica#teenage copia#copia headcanons#cardinal copia headcanons#papa iv headcanons#papa emeritus iv headcanons#headcanons#Spotify
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I say this but I've been rating every enstars song and i do have a general fondness for Alkaloid's music
undying holy love musically slayful
+1 tatsumi redemption point
( redemption to me personally bc i don't care much for him )
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— ALTARGENDER ; a gender system in which ones gender is connected to being an altar [ noun ] ( i.e " altarboy " ) . this gender system is not necessarily religious or tied to religion but tends to have religious themes . ( this post is a recoin / flag remake of altarthing )
— coined by me ; req by n/a
transparent imgs of cross and star pattern under cut
#ⓘ mine#ⓘ recoin#liomreal#mogai#mogaisafe#lgbtq#liom coining#mogai coining#mogaireal#liom term#mogai flag#liom#pro liom#liom safe#liom gender#mogai heaven#pro mogai#mogai gender#mogai safe
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Sacrilegious Snarry
Half the fun of Snarry is how "wrong" it is...so throwing in a bit of blasphemy should make it all the more fun, right? 👀 Forgive me Daddy, for I am sinning.
The Confession
by Alisanne. Rated: E. Words: 1,324.
Harry disagrees with Severus' career choice.
Like a Virgin
by Cybele. Rated: E. Words: 5,252. Cross-dressing. Object insertion. Established relationship.
Harry has reservations about the fancy dress costume that his new lover has chosen for him.
Private Lessons in Piety
by Dementordelta & isidore13. Rated: E. Shortfic. AU. Chan/underage.
Altarboy/priest. Blatant disrespect of religion.
Sacrilege
by iulia_linnea. Rated: E. Words: 101.
An altar boy, Harry's relationship with Father Snape is both a blessing and a curse, but he can only bless it.
For I Have Found Salvation
by lumosatnight (@lumosatnight). Rated: E. Words: 7,177. Muggle AU. Virginity loss. Catholic guilt.
Severus is a priest, and Harry is the parishioner who may just make him break his vows of celibacy.
Cloistered
by Siobhan Parker. Translated by RaeWhit. Rated: M. Words: 34,330.
During fifth year, Harry is stunned to discover that in a previous life he was a novice in a monastery. And that Snape was there with him…
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