#church holy matrimony

[percyweasleyapologist]

Remus: If any person here knows of any just cause or impediment why these two should not be joined together in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace. 

Barty: Yes! I do. One of the partners is already married! They married me three years ago. And don’t let them deny it! I’ve got the marriage certificate to prove it! 

*Lily turns around to face him* 

Barty: Oh... sorry. Wrong church. 

[ominouspositivity-or-else]

*The Eucharist is the body of Christ under the appearances of bread and wine.

**God is bound to these sacraments, meaning he always gives grace through them when they are done, but he is not bound by these sacraments, meaning that God can do literally whatever he wants and can of course go around them and provide grace in other ways.

***7 sacraments, listed: Baptism, Confirmation, Holy Eucharist, Confession, Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders, and Matrimony.

Feel free to add nuance in the tags or talk about why you find the teachings strange! Let me know if there's anything utterly baffling that I didn't include!!!

Also please remember to be respectful!!! Not everyone knows theology like you might!!!

[theonion]

Pastor Bob Snowdon, of Holy Christ Almighty Lutheran Church in Nashua, is a man of deep religious and moral convictions. He derives great satisfaction from his various parish duties—reciting the liturgy, giving holy communion, and performing the sacrament of baptism. But nothing delights him quite like his favorite activity of all: fucking Emily Snowdon, his holy-wedded wife of 19 years.

“The Holy Bible sanctifies the bond between a man and a woman in matrimony as a sacred union,” Snowdon said. “And there is nothing so smiled upon by our Lord than the love and caring that is shared when a man fucks his lawfully wedded bride. Just thinking about it makes me want to zip home for a few minutes and fuck Emily right now.”

Full Story

[dubiousanon]

GAANARU FOR ME PLS DO U HAVE SNIPPETS ✋

SOMEBODY ASKEDDDD here is a chunk of a fic in my drafts in which Gaara is insanely in love with Naruto, and Naruto somehow decides it's in the best interests of their villages' alliance that they get married:

The thing is that Gaara didn't even know the meaning of love before him.

He thought he did up until now, the mark carved into his forehead and blood on his hands. But whatever he had before— it pales in comparison to the fire lit in his chest, the one that radiates heat through each of his limbs, straight down to the very tips of his fingers and toes. He's been set ablaze, and he hopes desperately that the flame never goes out.

Naruto breathes life into everything he touches, it seems. Gaara is no exception. He thinks that if he could choose to be anywhere in the whole entire world, it would be here every single time.

He's so stuck in his blissful daze that he hardly notices that Naruto has been rambling to him this entire time. And more than that, it seems it might concern issues he should probably pay attention to. Just a little bit.

"-and that's why I feel like the political marriage between Shikamaru and Temari is stupid. Shikamaru doesn't even like her! He'd be unhappy for like, life!" Naruto threw his hands up in the air. "If they really want a strong alliance, they should just have the two of us get married. Believe it!"

Gaara very nearly chokes. His brain doesn't fully compute, but some part of him must because he's answering before he can even think about it. Like some part of his hind brain sees the in for what it is and dives to take it.

"For the sake of the villages," Gaara says in a voice far calmer than the internal screaming going on within him is, "that sounds like it would be a far better choice."

It wouldn't be better. Realistically, it would actually make things insanely complicated. Two jinchuuriki of different villages, one being a kage and the other slated to become one in the future, bound in holy matrimony? It would be nearly impossible. Unheard of.

The more Gaara thinks about it, the more he realizes he's never wanted anymore more in his entire life.

Marriage to Naruto would be a guarantee for life. Naruto does not do things in halves. He sticks to his commitments and he doesn't go back on his word, and such a philosophy seems to transfer to all facets of his life. Gaara sees no reason it wouldn't apply to this one too.

It's beyond appealing. The thought that Gaara could have Naruto, and Naruto would be his— he's giddy just thinking about it, hungry in that same odd way that drives him to stare at Naruto's lips and imagine their taste so often when they're together. In his chest, his heart races.

Next to him, Naruto makes a grand gesture with his hand.

"Right?!" He exclaims. "I mean, we get along! We're super close. I'd totally spend my life with you, believe it."

"I share the sentiment." Gaara is quick to say, feeling smitten. It's too good to be true. Surely he's not-

"In fact, we should just handle this ourselves. Right now." Naruto starts to stand. Gaara's heart nearly gives out right then and there. "Let's go find a church or something. Believe it."

Someone wake him up. Right now.

[moonlitsmile]

Hiiii

So first I wanna say I love you fic and I wanna give you all my support

So I had that idea of husband!father Charlie x wife!reader (because like I saw in a fic that apparently priest can stay married if they were before being priest but girl I dunno I’m not Christian😭) so basically reader work at the diner where Megan and Charlie goes to eat and she’s kinda jealous and don’t like Megan AT ALL because she’s always drooling over Charlie.

For the rest you can do whatever you like

Love ya kiss kiss 💗🫶

Holy Matrimony and Petty Jealousy

Charlie mayhew x f! reader

꣑୧ — 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Y/N is happily married to Charlie, who became a priest after they wed. But working at the diner where he and Megan eat, she can’t stand the way Megan drools over him. Jealousy isn’t holy—but she never claimed to be a saint.

The bell above the diner door jingles, and you already know who it is before you even look up. You can feel it, the hush that falls over the room. And when you glance over your shoulder, there he is. Charlie.

Your Charlie.

He steps inside with his usual quiet grace, brushing a hand through his dark hair. His face is all sharp angles softened by his smile , the one he saves for people like them. You. Megan. The whole damn town and church.

Megan’s already beaming like the cat who caught the canary, practically preening in her booth. It makes your stomach turn, the way she leans forward just a little too much, her eyes flicking up and down like she’s imagining things she has no right to.

Charlie doesn’t notice, or maybe he does and just chooses not to. He’s good at that. Pretending.

“Morning sweetheart,” he says, voice low and warm as he stops at the counter where you’re wiping down the surface a little too hard.

You force a smile, feeling the heat rise to your face. “Morning, Father.” The title tastes bitter on your tongue.

He leans in just slightly, his eyes flicking to yours. “You know you don’t have to call me that.”

But you do. Because it’s the only way to show him how this bothers you. But clearly he won’t take the hint. He let out a soft huff. “What’s wrong..?” He asked gently. His eyes softening. “It’s nothing..” you mumbled. Looking back down at your hand holding the damp rag. Continuing to wipe the tables. You glanced up briefly, seeing Megan. Waiting sitting at the booth, you figured he was coming to meet her again. Talk about that stupid case thing she was working on.

You feel his fingers brush yours when he takes the menu, and even though it’s the smallest touch, it still sends a little shiver up your spine. He notices, of course he does, his lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile.

It’s infuriating, how easily he gets under your skin. Even after all this time.

But before you can say anything, his eyes flick past you toward the window. And you know exactly where they land.

You don’t have to turn around to see Megan still watching. You feel it, her quiet, lingering gaze. She’s not obvious about it, but you know that look. It’s soft. Curious. A little too hopeful for your liking.

Charlie doesn’t react, he never does. He’s always so damn composed, so good at playing the kind, patient man everyone loves. The perfect husband. The perfect priest.

But you see the way his jaw shifts, the brief tension before he looks back at you.

“Busy morning?” he asks, his voice easy and warm.

You let out a breath, picking up the coffee pot. “Same as always.” You nod toward his usual booth. “Aren’t you suppose to be sitting with her?” You asked. Hand on your hip as you looked at him with a slight annoyed look. He couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the sight.. it made your blood boil. “She can wait a bit” you sighed, defeated. “I’ll bring your coffee.”

As he stands there at the counter waiting, you can’t help but glance toward Megan. She doesn’t look away fast enough, and when your eyes meet, there’s a flicker of something there. Embarrassment, maybe. But not enough to stop her from looking again.

The coffee pot shakes just a little in your hand.

When you bring the coffee to the counter, You set the cup down harder than you need to, and he raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong?” His voice is quiet, but there’s a hint of teasing in it. You glance back toward the counter, where Megan’s pretending not to look. “She’s staring again.”

Charlie sighs. “She’s not—”

“She is,” you hiss, keeping your voice low. “And you let her.”

That makes him smile, a real one this time, crooked and familiar. “What would you like me to do? Ask her to stop coming to the only diner in town?”

You glare at him. “You could tell her you’re married.”

He reaches for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “They all know I’m married,” he reminds you softly. “I’m married to you. That’s never been a secret.” It’s true. Everyone in town knows. You’re the priest’s wife, one who stands beside him on Sundays, the one who bakes for every fundraiser, the one who people come to when they need a little extra kindness. You’re supposed to be graceful. Patient. Godly.

But none of that stops Megan from looking at him like he’s hers for the taking. And none of that stops the heat curling low in your stomach when his fingers squeeze yours over the counter gently.

“You could still tell her to stop looking at you like that,” you mutter.

Charlie’s eyes soften, and he leans in just a little. “Why would I,” he murmurs, “when I only ever look at you?”

The words shouldn’t still get to you. But they do. But it’s still wrong Is it not?. You sighed. Shaking your head slightly. Giving him a light smile. “yeah..” you mumbled softly.

The coffee’s still warm in your hand when you see him get up.

He’s going over there now. He glanced up at you, “I’m gonna go talk to her now okay? Nothing bad” he said. His voice was gentle. Lightly taking his coffee cup off the counter. He gave a light, teasing little smile. Before walking off.

He walks over, easy and casual like it’s nothing, and when Megan looks up. surprised, but pleased. you feel your grip on the pot tighten. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you don’t need to.

It’s the way she tucks her hair behind her ear. The way she smiles, soft and sweet. The way he leans in just enough that anyone would think they’re having a quiet, private conversation.

You know it’s probably about the church or that case since she’s some detective nun. it always is. And of course, Charlie never turns down a helping hand.

But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Careful,” a voice murmurs, and you blink down to see coffee sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the pot.

You glance up to find your coworker, Mae, raising an eyebrow. “You’re gonna crack that thing if you squeeze it any harder.”

You force your fingers to loosen, setting the pot down a little too roughly. “I’m fine.”

Mae follows your gaze toward the booth, where Charlie’s still talking, his face calm, his head tilted just slightly as he listens. Megan’s smiling again. You hate that smile.

“You sure?” Mae asks, not unkindly.

You take a breath, smoothing your hands on your apron. “I said I’m fine.”

But you aren’t. Not when you see Megan reach out, just for a second, and touch his hand. A light, fleeting thing. It could mean nothing.

But you know better.

And worse, you see the way Charlie doesn’t pull away.

-

The bell above the door jingles again, and you don’t even have to look up to know it’s Megan leaving. You hear her soft “Goodbye, Father,” and you swear there’s a little too much sweetness in it.

You watch through the corner of your eye as she walks out, her step light, like talking to your husband just made her damn day.

You were sweeping infront of the counter where people constantly dropped crumbs at. when Charlie comes up behind you. You don’t look at him right away, you’re too busy sweeping at a clean spot, your jaw tight.

“She’s gone,” he says, his voice soft. Almost amused.

“Not soon enough,” you mutter, finally leaning the broom on a nearby wall.

Charlie’s quiet for a second, and when you finally glance at him, he’s watching you with that calm, patient look that somehow makes you feel more on edge. Like he’s waiting for you to say what you really want to say.

But you don’t. Not yet.

“I’m heading to the church,” he says after a beat, his voice gentle. “Megan’s headed there helping with the supply drive. Just going to get a few things set up.”

You fold your arms, not bothering to hide the sharp edge to your voice. “Convenient how she’s always around when you need help.”

Charlie’s mouth quirks, but there’s a softness in his eyes, like he sees right through you. “Shes one of the nuns. Plus, a lot of people do.”

You hate how reasonable he sounds. How calm. Like there’s nothing to be upset about. But then his hand brushes your arm just lightly, and his voice dips low, only for you. "You know I only need one person."

You hate how that still gets to you.

"Then maybe tell her that," you mutter, even though you're already leaning in just a little when his fingers trail down your wrist.

He smiles - that soft one that always makes your knees feel a little weak. "I'll be home by dinner," he says. "Don't be mad when I get there, sweetheart."

He kisses your forehead before you can answer, and you watch him leave

still feeling the warmth of his touch even as the door swings shut behind him.

-

The house is quiet when he finally comes home. You hear the soft click of the door, the familiar sound of his keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. You’re in the kitchen, pretending to be busy, stirring a pot on the stove even though dinner’s already done.

“Smells good,” Charlie’s voice comes from behind you, warm and familiar. You don’t turn around.

“Hope it’s still warm enough for you,” you say, a little sharper than you mean to.

There’s a beat of silence, and then you feel him step closer, not touching you yet, but near enough that you can feel the heat of him at your back.

“You’re still mad.” It’s not a question.

You shrug, still not looking at him. “Didn’t know I had a reason not to be.”

Charlie sighs, and a second later his hands are on your waist, gentle but firm, sliding around until his chest is against your back. “You know there’s nothing to be jealous of.” His voice is low, right by your ear. “You’re mine. only mine, okay?

“Doesn’t stop her from looking at you like she wants to change that,” you mutter.

He chuckles. And you hate how warm it makes your stomach feel. “You really think I’d let anyone come between us?”

You shake your head, but the words still stick. “You didn’t pull away when she touched your hand.”

That makes him pause. Then his lips brush against your neck, soft and slow. “You notice everything, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s my husband getting eyed up in my diner.”

His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you back against him. “Maybe I wanted to see if you’d get jealous.” His voice dips, teasing and low. “You know I like it when you do.”

It’s infuriating. the way he always does this. The way he knows exactly how to get under your skin and make you forget why you were mad in the first place.

But you try to hold on to it, even as his lips trace along your jaw. “That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“Mm. Maybe not.” He turns you in his arms, his hands sliding up your back. “But I like seeing you all worked up.”

You glare at him, but it’s half-hearted, especially when he leans in, his mouth brushing yours.

“You know I love you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Only you.”

You want to stay mad. You really do. But when he kisses you like that, slow and soft and sweet. it’s impossible.

“You’re still washing the dishes tonight,” you mutter against his mouth.

He grins. “Deal.”

And when his hands tighten at your waist again, pulling you closer, you know you’ve already forgiven him.

I AM ON A ROLL OH MY 🔥

[truelycharmed]

Religious!Soap on your wedding night

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, MDNI, smut, p in v, fem reader, religion, traditional values, probably a little (a lot) of mischaracterization

Religious!Soap Who wouldn't sleep in the same bed as you until you married him.

Johnny was a religious man, born and raised a good Scottish Catholic, who would never mean to touch you before marriage. However, he's not a man with much self-control. He's spent your entire relationship absolutely yearning to touch you, but he knows he must wait like God intended. He's very traditional that way.

So when you're finally married and he's got you in your lacey wedding lingerie he's like a man starved. Every touch is so desperate, he's been waiting so long for this bonnie, absolutely craving the feeling of your body.

He's pawing at you and groping you so rough as his lips meet your neck, sucking and biting like a man starved. By the time he's got you in missionary and he's nudging his tip against your dripping cunt he's whimpering and grabbing at you like an animal. As he pumps deep inside he whimpers things about "consummating the marriage" and "breeding a big traditional family".

Your cunny clenches around him as orgasm tares through your body and he finishes deep inside where he has been kissing your cervix as he mumbles something incoherent about "God's holy matrimony" and "Ephesians 5:31".

Afterwards, when Johnny's got you lying there he's holding you and kissing you showing every ounce of his appreciation for your body. He's caressing you and mumbling about what dress he wants you to wear to church in the morning. What a sweet traditional catholic <3

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

Oscar: You do realize that this isn't legally binding?

Noel: I'm a cop. 'Course I do.

Oscar: And that most of the church-

The Butcher: We don' live under a rock, Father. Now get on with it.

Oscar: (sighs) Fine. We are gathered here today to witness the union of Noel Finley and Dennis Collins in holy...er...incredibly violent matrimony.

John: Arthur, are we really just going to let this happen?!?

Arthur: Noel's a big boy; he can make his own decisions.

(Oscar did offer to marry Arthur and John while he was at it. John refused because the ceremony would have been Christian and, "Other gods have no business in our relationship.")

[themultifandomgal]

Isaiah Jesus- We’re Getting Married

When I told my brothers that Isaiah and I were getting married, they were not happy. I am the youngest Shelby, as Arthur puts it 'our baby sister'. Thankfully though my brothers came around and now here I stand smoothing down my dress as Esme places my vail in my hair

"You look beautiful YN" Lizzie gushes

"Thank you, but so do you both" I look at Esme and Lizzie through the mirror in front of me

"Ready?"

"Yeah" I smile turning around to Lizzie

"I'll go let Arthur know" she says leaving the room. A few minutes later Arthur knocks the door with his hand over his eyes

"We're all decent you can come in" I tell him. He takes his hand away and I can already see the tears in his eyes "don't cry because you'll make me cry"

"I'm sorry. It's just... my baby sister is getting married"

"Ok no smudging the makeup" Esme says stopping both me and Arthur from crying

"I think Isaiah is waiting" Lizzie places her hands on her hips

"Your right. Come on" Arthur holds his arm out for me to take.

As I wait for the doors to open to reveal Isaiah I start fidgeting

"Don't be nervous"

"I'm not. I'm excited. I love him Arthur"

"I know you do" finally the doors open and in walk Lizzie and Tom, then Esme and John. Then in walk my bridesmaids and finally Arthur walks me to Isaiah who's stood at the end of the aisle looks so freaking good. I notice he's got a tear running down his smiling face which cause me to cry a little. Arthur gives Isaiah my hand then kisses my cheek before taking his seat next to the rest of my family

"Welcome" the priest starts "today we are here to witness the marriage and bond between YN and Isaiah. Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"I do" we both respond

"Before we start. Is there anyone here who has reason that these two should not marry?" Thankfully neither Isaiah or I have to be nervous about anyone standing up "since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church" Isaiah and I hold hands

"I, take you , to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life" Isaiah says looking into my eyes. I repeat what he says

"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit. Who has the rings?" The priest asks. Charlie steps forward with both of our rings. Isaiah then takes my left hand

"Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit" he then places the ring on my finger. I repeat

"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss" the room is filled with applause while Isaiah and I share a kiss.

It's now the after party at the Garrison and I've changed into something a little more comfortable so I can dance in. Isaiah and I had our first dance then Arthur clears his throat

"Can I have everyone's attention" I take Isaias hand in mine "I'd like to raise a toast to my sister and now brother in-law. Now when you first starting courting I wasn't happy" this makes us all laugh "in all seriousness though, I saw the way YN looked at you and the way you looked at her. It's a love that can't be ignored. I can't wait to see where life takes you both, but no babies yet I'm still not recovered from this wedding" again this makes everyone laugh "to YN and Isaiah"

"To YN and Isaiah" everyone shouts before we all take a sip of the champagne. I turn to my now husband and look up at him

"I love you"

"I love you too" he leans down and kisses my lips.

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Rogier van der Weyden or Roger de la Pasture (Netherlandish, c.1399-1464) The Seven Sacraments, ca. 1440-45 Royal Museum of Fine Arts, Antwerp The 7 Sacraments celebrated in the Catholic Church are Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance and Reconciliation, Anointing of the Sick, Holy Orders, and Matrimony. They are divided into three categories: Sacrament of Initiation, Sacraments of Healing, and Sacraments at the Service of Communion.

[luidilovins]

I hate you syncretism I hate you gnostism I hate you compulsory christianity I hate you proselytising I hate you ministry outreach I hate you predatory humanitarian affairs I hate you missionaries I hate you consumerism I hate you objective moralism I hate you crime and punishment I hate you cultural genocide I hate you moral policing I hate you moral panic I hate you manifest destiny I hate you american exeptionalism I hate you christian persecution complex I hate you science criticals I hate you creationists I hate you christian nationalism I hate you spiritual warfare I hate you merging of church and state I hate you war on christmas I hate you evangelism I hate you normalized iconography I hate you conversion therapy I hate you tax exemption I hate you neural synchronicity I hate you confirmation bias I hate you frequency illusion I hate you hyperreligiosity I hate you spiritual psychosis I hate you religious OCD I hate you shame culture I hate you crusading I hate you religious homogeneity I hate you I hate you religious pluralism I hate you religious persecutors I hate you theocracies I hate you denomination conflict I hate you purism I hate you cultural erotophobia I hate you indoctrination I hate you hypocrisy I hate you cherry picking I hate you sola scriptura I hate you biblical scripture chatta I hate you weaponized scripture I hate you pro life I hate you biblical dominion and stewardship I hate you victim blaming I hate you rape culture I hate you original sin I hate you dichotomous thinking I hate you christian karmic justice I hate you holy matrimony I hate you retrobution I hate you condemnation fuck you and everything you stand for.

[green-eyedfirework]

Slade watched his mate-to-be walk down the aisle and locked his jaw so he wouldn’t growl.  The haze of anger coated everything like spun-sugar, sickly and inescapable.  He had dreamed about running a sword through his bride so many times that he was half-afraid he’d wake to blood on his hands.

Grayson’s path was unhurried and graceful, the veil shading the omega’s form as he took dainty steps, escorted by his smiling aunt.  The mood of the hall was joyous, an exhale of relief at an averted war and the excitement of a change in the air.  He’d caught servants and nobles alike gossiping about the new consort and everyone had thrown themselves wholeheartedly into wedding planning.

None of them knew the truth.

None of them knew that white should be stained with red, that Grayson walked up the aisle playacting at innocence when he was guilty.

None of them knew that Gotham had delivered both murdered and murderer back to Defiance.

It had been the work of multiple spy reports as Slade delved deeper into the mystery of his eldest’s death.  Putting the pieces together, late at night, until grief and shock warred in equal measure.  Greeted by the Gotham contingent the next morning and the smiling, cheery visage of his son’s murderer and now his intended.

The final lilts of the march grew into a crescendo before dropping into silence.  The Gotham alpha, sister to its King, placed the omega’s hand in his own.  Slade had to stop himself from squeezing too tight.

“We gather here today, in the light of all that is true and holy, to join these souls in blessed matrimony…”

Up close, Grayson’s bright blue eyes were visible behind his lace veil.  His expression seemed oddly fixed—a grimace instead of the cheery smile he’d bestowed upon arrival.  Nerves, no doubt, much like the way his fingers almost trembled in Slade’s grip.  Perhaps he was holding too tight.

It was the deepest betrayal—to stand here in his capital, in the church where his son was baptized, to marry his murderer.  To swear a vow to champion his protection.  To watch false lips repeat an oath like poison dripping into his ears.

Slade’s only consolation was that the vow would be broken soon enough.

~#~

If his people were expecting him to put on a display of merriment, they would be sorely disappointed.  The mourning colors had only been exchanged for wedding decorations, and Slade hadn’t been one for frippery or fancy before that as well.  Still, there was more than one moue of disapproval when Slade disdained the dancing and Grayson, following his lead, refused every request that came his way.

Slade expected his new bride to be more talkative, having observed the way he chattered at the retainers that had accompanied him.  But aside from the pleasantries, Grayson’s mouth had remained firmly shut, even against every dish that was placed in front of him.  Oh, he made a show of moving things around his plate, but nothing that touched his lips passed through them.  Nerves, perhaps, or maybe Slade’s distaste was more obvious than he thought.  He fought to regain a coolly neutral expression.

He could not kill his mate tonight, no matter how badly he wished it.  Too hasty and too soon.  With Gotham retainers and nobles and guards and even the princess still here.  The risk was too high to be borne.

Slade would have to play nice tonight.  And the next night.  And the next and the next and the next, until the Gothamites left and his consort was all alone and circumstances could be arranged to find the murderer high up in a tower where he might fall to his doom.

The omega’s love of climbing was well known, after all.  Gotham would find no cause to assign blame.  After all, if Slade was denied the chance to go to war for his eldest son, he would ensure that King Bruce befell the same fate.

A son for a son.  A murder disguised as accident.  And finally, justice.

[dandy-andyyy]

wanting someone to kiss me in a church at an altar but like not in a holy matrimony kinda way, more of a god-defying way as a beautiful creature tells me I’m loved and tempts me with unimaginable power and damnation ya know?

[insomniaticdreamer]

LOVE BIRDS - Diluc R. part 2

-`♡´-I wanted to expand this a little more because I liked it too much and because I feel that Diluc's bird is very forgotten, so let's start

-`♡´-You two let your birds be together, anyway, the birds got along well and loved each other too much.

-`♡´-Soon you began to notice how your parrot began to sing when the hawk came to give you your daily letter from Diluc saying good morning and some sweet words along with a rose promising to see you by noon

-`♡´-I think that Diluc has a bird resting stick in his tavern for his hawk, so both for him and for all the customers it was evident the affection that both birds had for each other when you arrived with your parrot and the little bird positioned itself next to the hawk and snuggled under its wing

-`♡´-Soon Diluc began to notice how there were times when his hawk would groom your parrot gently while he gave you a hairstyle after you had spent hours convincing him to do it and your parrot returning the favor as well as the little bird could.

-`♡´-Soon the day came where Diluc couldn't find either his hawk or your parrot, which scared him a little since you had entrusted him with your parrot while you were on a long trip.

-`♡´-After hours and hours of walking around and whining and shaking a bowl of food to call them, he found them very well hidden in the Dawn Winery, specifically behind an armchair.

-`♡´-They had stolen some of his shirts and a scarf that you made for him, cuddling lovingly, being in the warmth of each other

-`♡´-Diluc did not have the heart to separate them and take away their little love nest, since he had remembered you and himself, so he simply left them there as soon as he saw them, leaving them alone in their little place.

-`♡´-When you returned he told you what happened which made you laugh and smile because of the adorableness of the situation.

-`♡´-A small fleeting idea also came to mind

-`♡´-It was the day of your wedding with Diluc, his hawk sat proudly on his shoulder with a black bow tie tied gently around his neck, just as elegant as the young master who was with a confident face on the outside because he was fainting. of the nerves

-`♡´-Soon the doors of the church opened, revealing you, dressed in a beautiful dress, a small veil fell from you and your hands held a bouquet of many flowers and on your shoulder was your parrot with an equally veiled nicer than yours

-`♡´-As soon as they both gave each other the kiss that would seal them in holy matrimony, the birds also gave each other a ''kiss'' on their beaks, the young master Diluc and you would love each other for the rest of your life the same. that his hawk and your parrot

(making evident here how much I love and adore Diluc, my little one deserves the world)

[marinafanning]

some percy jackson incorrect quotes for you

reyna: I eat cheerios because they’re heart healthy. reyna: And my heart has been severely damaged, so jason, if you’re out there—

percy: If any person here knows of any just cause or impediment why these two should not be joined together in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace. rachel: Yes! I do. One of the partners is already married! They married me three years ago. And don’t let them deny it! I’ve got the marriage certificate to prove it! hazel turns around to face them rachel: Oh… sorry. Wrong church.

piper and percy are fighting frank, taking aspirin: I have a headache! Can you guys just be cool?! piper and percy start fighting while wearing sunglasses and riding skateboards

calypso: Why are you drinking? reyna: I drink when I'm depressed. calypso: But you're always drinking? reyna: smug grin

nico: annabeth is off at an appointment, so while they’re gone, I’m going to cut the sleeves off all of my shirts. frank: Why? nico: They’re like 90% of my impulse control.

frank: How does one turn their emotions off? piper: Okay, so first go to settings. piper: I'm a fucking idiot, I thought that said emojis at first. frank: No, I'm still willing to try this, go ahead. I'm at settings, what do I do next?

nico: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little shit’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun’.

will: piper, I think we have a problem. piper: What, the fire? will: No, the- wait, what fire? piper: Oh forget about it, this sounds more interesting.

leo, dashing into the room: WHY AREN’T THE DISHES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER?! frank: …What does that even mean?!

percy: What time is it? grover: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out grover: BLASTS the saxaphone calypso: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING grover: It’s 2 am

rachel: See, the problem is, hazel, you’re playing 3D chess. I’m playing 4D. hazel: I’m playing checkers. I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing.

piper: If I had a face like yours, I'd put it on a wall and throw a brick at it. percy: If I had a face like YOURS, I'd put it on a brick and throw a wall at it.

piper, ordering Starbucks: Hey, I just got my heart broken, what do you recommend? annabeth, who’s running the drive thru: … annabeth: Tequila.

annabeth: I wouldn’t wish that upon my worse enemy! annabeth: Unless of course. . We’re talking about my enemy, rachel. Fuck you rachel, you know what you did!

rachel: Like, no offense to myself and all, but what the fuck am I actually doing?

juniper: I didn't drink that much last night. hazel: You were flirting with grover. juniper: So what? They're my partner. hazel: You asked if they were single. hazel: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

juniper: If I fall… piper: I’ll be there to catch you. calypso: looks at percy What if I fall? percy: Then I’ll fall with you, never leaving your side. rachel: watches these two interactions rachel, to annabeth: And if I fall? annabeth: I’ll be the one who pushed you.

thalia: If you ever feel stupid or weak or powerless, just remember that I am not. I am out there, very dangerous, and I am looking for you. Good luck.

percy: That's ridiculous, annabeth doesn't have a crush on me. will: Yes they do. juniper: Yes they do. annabeth: Yes I do.

[talonabraxas]

"The Holy Spirit is the Fire of Pentecost or the fire of the Holy Spirit called Kundalini by the Hindus, the igneous serpent of our magical powers, Holy Fire symbolized by Gold..." - Samael Aun Weor, The Perfect Matrimony

The Church of the Holy Spirit

The church of the Holy Spirit is the church of Thyatira; this is the church of the heart. The priest who demands payment for a wedding ceremony commits a tremendous sacrilege, because a wedding is a ceremony that concerns the Holy Spirit, a wedding is a mystery of the heart; therefore, to make of the heart a business is same as to make of the Holy Spirit a business.

Those who make of the sacrament of marriage a commerce, profane in a horribly way the mysteries of the Holy Spirit. Love must not be bought nor sold because to do such thing is to commit a serious crime against the Holy Spirit.

“Wherefore I say unto you, all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men: but the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit shall not be forgiven unto men.” - Matthew 12:31

The one who commits suicide sins against the Holy Spirit, because the Holy Spirit gives us life through love and sex.

When the soul of those who take their physical life by their own hand is reborn again, they get a pleasing life in their new physical body, yet they die against their will; this is their punishment.

The Judas-like person who betrays the Master, sins against the Holy Spirit because of his ingratitude, since the love of the Master abides in the church of the heart and the fires of the heart control the Kundalini. The Kundalini develops, evolves, and progresses according to the merits of the heart.

So, the ascent of the Kundalini is very slow and difficult; because, each vertebra demands certain conditions of sanctity; this is the terror of Love and Law. Thus, one single seminal ejaculation is enough in order for the Kundalini to descend one or more vertebrae. Afterwards, it is very difficult to recover the lost degrees related with those vertebrae; this is the punishment for the weak.

The man is one column and the woman is the other column of the temple of the living God. The two columns of the temple of the Holy Spirit are terribly divine. The man is the expansive principle, the woman is the attractive principle; the key of redemption is found in the union of both. Love is nourished with love; the kiss is the mystical consecration of two souls who adore each other. While in the supreme trance of love we forget about the theories of men.

The sexual act becomes the consubstantiation of love within the psychosexual human realism. Man is strength, woman is sweetness.

Peter has the keys to heaven. Peter means rock, that rock is sex, and Sexual Magic is the key of Heaven. Upon the rock (sex) we must edify the church for our “I Am.”

Self-realization is impossible without the magic of love. Whosoever learns how to love will be transformed into a God; Sex is the philosophical stone, the cubic stone of Yesod. Man and woman sexually united become as Gods. It is better to love than to theorize.

Goethe said, “Every theory is gray, and only the tree of the golden fruits of life is green.”

A home with playful children, a good garden, and a good wife are more valuable to a man than the cluster of theories from all the spiritualist schools of the world; a strong, loving, pure, and noble husband is more valuable to a woman than all the libraries of the world, because with the sacred fire of the Holy Spirit we become as Gods, yet, with theories we just become intellectual scoundrels.

Blessed be love, blessed be the beings who adore each other.