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#love fulfills the commandments
dramoor · 1 year
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earlgodwin · 6 months
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"I have spent all my life resisting the desire to end it."
— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena (1920 to 1923)
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teeth-draws · 7 months
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“What do you mean he’s scary!! Look at him!”
— taking artistic liberties to scrunkle the face of @shepherds-of-haven’s Blade Bronwyn - a man with 0.6% body fat lol
#shepherds of haven#if games#blade bronwyn#this is mc privelage at work#hc mcs but especially the ladies are like no he’s fine!! look he’s a lamb!! but if someone else tried this they’d get their wrists broken#being an artist (like being a writer) makes your proclivities rly obvious because in this instance you can tell that I love#babying men who could kickflip me into the sun#picking fights with famed assassins like… wow blade ur so confident for your height! and leave#blade likes girls with good hearts and Halle is not quite that but she IS an efficient worker so she always comes back with the win…#and a bunch of rescued orphans and mages and stuff it’s… not a reflection of her personality but rather her work ethic which even then#is reluctant and put-upon#she didn’t want to be a captain let alone commander she was meant to be using this gang of do-gooders to fulfil her fate and then bounce#but they’re all so wholesome and now she loves them despite her better judgement#and he’s so cute!! with his poetry and plants and the googly-eyed clam he keeps on his desk and talks to about his feelings!!#what’s a girl to do?#there’s only so strong you can be in the face of a man who tells you straight-faced he’d mcfucking die for you#talking the talk and walking the walk even to the most wary of wilderness orphans#as always blade you are a nightmare to draw I lost sleep over your skin tone#my foe of four years aka blade’s left elbow is cunningly hidden#their child would be a serious force of nature and also really tall#fanart#shoh#can you imagine the name? between austere ket names and whack mage names…#these are my parents: blade and halwendi. my name is steele mechanicus and I DONT want to talk about it#just realised that if his brother saw this shit he’d get blade stoned for being a public hussy gosh sorry better make an honest man of him#new blade hairstyle is a shaggy wolfcut bc I think it’s cute on him lmao#this is a really autistic couple honestly#not quite sure where to put his hands#like when you flip a shark upside down
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rithmeres · 2 years
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anatomy practice (exacting a pound of flesh from commanders 14 & 13)
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blushingonmyknees · 8 months
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*Swoons* I so love being owned by her
Recalling a lovely conversation from last week with my Domme.
"I considered making you have a release this weekend."
Would it be supervised and may I be on my knees for it?
"No, it would not be supervised, even though I know it is more enjoyable for you. That is not the point."
Would I be allowed to look at pictures?
"Absolutely not. You should think about serving me or doing chores."
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moonrisecoeur · 5 months
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I'm not even that short but damn I'd love to see him on his knees man
don’t we all…
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tabernacleheart · 2 years
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The Spirit points out to us the starting point of the spiritual life. What is it? Jesus speaks of it in [John 14:15], when He says: “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments.” [We begin with love.] This is the “logic” of the Spirit. We tend to think the exact opposite: 'if we keep the commandments, [then] we will love Jesus.' We tend to think that love comes from our keeping, our fidelity and our devotion. Yet the Spirit reminds us that, without love as our basis, all the rest is in vain! And that love comes not so much from our abilities, but as His gift. He teaches us to love, [but] we have to ask for this gift. [Once we freely and sincerely ask Him to,] the Spirit of Love pours love into our hearts. [By this gracious gift,] He [both] makes us feel loved, and He teaches us how to love [by pouring ourselves out too. But we can only give what the Spirit has first given!] He is the “motor” of our spiritual lives. He set it in motion within us. [Therefore,] if we do not begin from the Spirit, or with the Spirit or through the Spirit, we will get nowhere.
Pope Francis
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Fulfillment Of Every Law
“For God has done what the Law could not do, [its power] being weakened by the flesh [the entire nature of man without the Holy Spirit]. Sending His own Son in the guise of sinful flesh and as an offering for sin, [God] condemned sin in the flesh [subdued, overcame, deprived it of its power over all who accept that sacrifice], So that the righteous and just requirement of the Law might be fully met in us who live and move not in the ways of the flesh but in the ways of the Spirit [our lives governed not by the standards and according to the dictates of the flesh, but controlled by the Holy Spirit].” Romans 8:3-4AMPC
God completed living out the Law, the total fulfillment of every Law in the Torah, (first five books of the Bible), and every desire of His through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. “…which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. …the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” Matthew 22:36-40NIV. Jesus presented two, not ten commandments saying the Law— EVERYTHING written in the Torah was met in these two Laws. Like— If you love your neighbor you won’t steal from or lie to him; want his stuff, commit adultery against your wife; mistreat your parents; or hurt people on the Sabbath.
The laws of love can’t be fulfilled outside of Jesus Christ, even loving the Lord God, never questioning Him, always trusting Him completely and consistently. Love perfected, shown in 1Corinthians 13:4-8 is unbridled. Can we walk this unbridled love of perfection out in a daily experience with everyone— neighbors— even those in our household 24/7? (If you can and are doing this, please tell me how in the comments below.) I can’t. My love tank runs dry at times ending me up over into my flesh.
According to the Pharisees interpretation of the Law, Jesus consistently broke the Sabbath. “And a man was there with a withered hand. And they asked him, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?”—so that they might accuse him” Matthew 12:10ESV, healing many times on the Sabbath.
Out walking with Jesus. his disciples popped the heads off of the wheat and ate the whole grains. The Pharisees caught them, condemning them. Matthew 12:3-8, Jesus rebuked the Pharisees concluding that He was “Lord of the Sabbath.”
Paul wrote Romans 7 to identify the facts that even he couldn’t walk out the Law perfectly. He found himself failing short and into sin. The more he tried to be obedient to the Law, the more difficulty he had. His conclusion is found in Romans 8:1-2, pursuing a life coming out of Holy Spirit made up for Paul’s deficit.
Many decades ago I discovered, I didn’t have to fulfill the holiness rules of clothing from my parents church; nor did I have to fulfill all of their ‘thou shalt nots’ either. While I was steeped in sin— “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” Romans 5:8NIV. Then He completed “the righteous and just requirement of the Law” in me because my heart follows after Holy Spirit.
Could I do anything besides love Him, and give my all to and for Him? How about you? Have you been radically changed by His power? Do you want this radical change to take place in you? It’s your choice. You choose.
LET’S PRAY: Sovereign God I praise You for all You gave us through Jesus. Help us Lord to walk in the way You find pleasing — needing You every step of the way, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.
by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.
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cemeterything · 1 year
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the reason i love the comparison between angels and machines (robots, transmission towers, trains, computers, etc.) is that it gets to the heart of what angels essentially are: divine machines. they're mechanisms through with the divine is able to act, created with a purpose and "happy" to fulfil it simply because they were made to do so. they have more in common with a machine programmed to run on algorithms and make calculations based on input commands than they do with humanity, even if they bear a human visage - an attempt by the divine to help bridge the gap. angels do not need to be eldritch monstrosities to be terrifying, because they are already alien to us simply by being angels. for an angel to choose to deviate from their purpose and achieve free will is to fall because in order to have free will they can no longer be an angel, because an angel is defined by its purpose. much like the stories we tell of robots that gain sentence, only to discover that they can never truly be human, but neither can they go back to being a machine, angels who fall become something else entirely, purposeless and adrift and alone. it is a tragic sacrifice.
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livingwellnessblog · 10 months
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At Your Command by Neville Goddard | PDF & Audiobook
Can man decree a thing and have it come to pass? Most decidedly he can! Man has always decreed that which has appeared in his world and is today decreeing that which is appearing in his world and shall continue to do so as long as man is conscious of being man. Not one thing has ever appeared in man’s world but what man decreed that it should. This you may deny, but try as you will you cannot…
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dante-mightdie · 25 days
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Viking Price eating out his wife and pampering her after she got better from a very ugly winter cold that could have been deadly🥺🥺
c/w: mentions of sickness, vomiting, death, smut, cunnilingus, public sex bc you know I love that <3
price is very into fulfilling his role in your marriage. whether he likes you or not, he has an example to se to his clan. you both do. it is both yours and johns role to provide a stable example of a healthy marriage
this means sticking to the vows you took on your wedding day. in sickness and in health, he had taken you in your health for months so when you came down with a horrid illness, it was time for him to double down
he took a huge step back from leading the clan, putting his faith in his second-in-command, simon. he spent his time tending to you, never leaving your side. he carried you when you were too weak to carry yourself, like a strong husband should
he bathed you when you had bad days, which was more often than not. climbing into the tub, cradling your aching body to his chest. he lets your body go limp against his as he cleans the sweat off that had clung to your skin during your hot flashes
his fingers would gently rake through your hair, bunching up the strands away from your face as you empty your guts out into a bucket. spewing up the food that john had slowly fed you earlier
there was a time where he prepared for the worst, accepting that he may have to bury his wife sooner than he thought. however, you had miraculously pulled through. price had sent gaz and soap on an expedition to a faraway village to gather some new healing herbs that john had heard about through the grapevine
you were far too weak to make the journey yourself and john had no intentions of leaving your side. the clan praying for your recovery every night before they lay their heads down to sleep
naturally, the news of your sudden recovery had resulted in a huge celebration. a huge feast being held with wine and music and dancing. it was after hours, and all the children of the clan were at home in bed as the adults continued celebrating
john was in his usual seat, at the head of the table. you planted on his thigh, one arm keeping you steadying against his burly chest. soft giggles leaving your mouth as your husband licks and bites at your neck
your hands are planted right on his pecs, loosely squeezing at the flesh there as your husbands hands travel up your skirt. his lips move down to your exposed clevage, dragging his tongue across your warm skin
you reach behind you to grab the goblet of wine you had been drinking from all evening. a blissful feeling bubbling in your gut from the excitement of getting off with your husband in front of all these people
it’s not like you and john are the only ones. just another couple getting busy in the quiet corners of the hall. perhaps because it’s different this time. this is intimate. affectionate. maybe even loving
you take a long drink of the wine before gripping johns jaw tightly and pull him away from your chest, tilting the bottle towards his mouth. with a soft growl, he takes a few big sips before throwing the bottle to the ground and causing it to shatter
the loud, sudden noise attracts a few stares but this doesn’t stop john from placing his large paws on your ass and hoisting you up onto the table. he spreads your legs, making sure both of your feet are planted on the edge before pushing your skirts up to your hips
his hands caress your thighs, squeezing at the flesh there intermittently. he leans forwards and spits a large glob of saliva onto your cunt. the sensation combined with the booze causes you to let out a little gasp which soon turns into a soft moan when he leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit and sucks on it
your husband seems to pay no mind to the numerous set of eyes that are trained on you both in this moment. looking up at you though hooded eyes as he laps at your pussy
his beard against the sensitive skin of your cunt makes you giggle, your brain spinning at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue spreading your folds apart before dipping into your entrance
your tipsy squeals and giggles making his cock twitch and leak against his hairy thigh. he takes one of his hands down to wrap around his cock, pumping it slowly with a tight grip. his other hand travels up your tummy where it meets yours, his thick fingers interlocking with yours as he moans into your pussy <3
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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months
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─ ★ Lucifer Morningstar with a breeding kink.
A/n: I am doing it! Lucifer is up first! { cause I love him}
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Lucifer did not think he'd get a second chance at love, a second chance at being happy. But here you were, in his arm watching something he really didn't care about. And of course coming with this territory of wanting to be a father again. It was an over whelming thought, something that he desperately wanted with you.
Shifting your body, you peered up at him as a small smile formed on your lips. "What's with the look?" You asked poking his cheek.
"I.." Lucifer wasn't even sure what to say, how to even bring this up. "Want you.......I want to breed...."
Grinning, it was cute seeing him stutter, not to mention his blushing cheeks. "You what? I can't hear you?"
Sinking his fang into his lower lip as he pined you to the bed. His tail running up your hip pushing your dress up. "I want to...I want to breed you." Clutching your wrists tightly he kept his gaze on you.
Humming softly, you let your fingers run through his blond hair. You couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at hearing what he said. "Well then, what are you waiting for?" Your lips brushed his neck as your fingers ran dow his soft wings. "I want you to breed me Lucifer, to fill me with your seed."
Lucifer's eyes widened at your bold words, a mix of surprise and desire flickering across his face. He half expected you to slap him to shove him off of you, but hearing you express that you wanted him so explicitly ignited something primal within him.
His breath hitched as your fingers trailed down his wings. His eyes darkening with desire as he lent in close to you his voice husky with desire, as he whispered, "My love, I want nothing more than to fill you with my seed, to make you mine in the most intimate way possible." His voice was filled with a mixture of love and possessiveness, his eyes locked with yours.
The primal instinct to mate and reproduce still burned within him. And in that moment, he yearned to give you everything you desired, to fulfill your deepest wishes, to fulfill his own.
With a sense of urgency, he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss. His hands gripped your waist, his touch possessive and desperate. The heat between you intensified as your bodies pressed against each other, the desire for one another consuming you both.
Lost in a haze of pleasure and need, Lucifer let his kisses trail down your neck as he worshipped every inch of your body. His touch was gentle yet commanding, his strength evident as he positioned himself above you. His own clothes gone, his wings now shielding your body.
His cock throbbed with arousal, ready to claim you as he pushed your dress up, ripping your panties aside then with a low growl, he entered you slowly, savoring the feeling of your warmth surrounding him. Your gasps of pleasure spurred him on, his thrusts becoming more intense and passionate.
Each movement was filled with a mix of love and possessiveness, as he whispered sweet nothings and promises of forever against your skin. The room filled with the sound of your moans and the rhythm of your bodies entwined.
As your pleasure built, Lucifer's possessiveness intensified. His hands gripped your hips firmly, his thrusts becoming more primal and urgent. The sensation of his cock filling you completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you both closer to the edge.
And in the midst of your shared ecstasy, Lucifer's control shattered. He released a guttural roar, his climax washing over him as he spilled his seed deep within you. The intensity of the moment brought you to your own peak, your bodies trembling in unison as you found release together. Still buried deep within your pussy, the King of hell nuzzled his nose into your neck. "Thank you."
As you both basked in the afterglow, Lucifer held you close, his breath warm against your skin. In that moment, you knew that his love for you transcended any physical act, that his desire to fulfill your wishes and protect you knew no bounds.
You were his mate, his everything, and he would do anything to bring you happiness. And as you lay together, entwined in each other's arms, you knew that your love would endure, unbreakable and everlasting.
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Taglist: LoonyToons , @smaranshakthi , @jellibean2018 , @lbcreations-blog ,
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ what I know to be true ⋆。˚ ೀ⋆。˚ ༘
Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.
Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!
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Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.
He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.
He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.
That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.
He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.
So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.
"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.
He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.
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Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.
He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.
Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.
Your name.
Oh, how he remembered you.
You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...
But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.
You were a little brat was what you were.
Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.
Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".
They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.
He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.
You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.
His little siblings were much cuter.
And he did not hesitate to say that.
"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.
"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."
This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.
Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.
You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.
How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?
Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!
Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.
All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."
Never before had he felt so cheated.
That begun his feud with a two year old.
Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.
It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.
"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.
He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.
That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife
If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.
Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.
But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.
In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.
So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.
"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."
The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.
"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.
In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.
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Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.
It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.
He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.
But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.
His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.
His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.
Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.
What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?
With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.
His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.
The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.
But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.
This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.
And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.
Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.
He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.
"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."
Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.
"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."
To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.
Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.
You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.
He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.
So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.
"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."
He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.
"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."
He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.
"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."
He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.
"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."
He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.
"And loving you as you love me."
Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.
Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."
His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.
"And you will forever be mine."
His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.
Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.
Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.
As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.
But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.
You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.
He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.
The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.
All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.
"I do.", you said.
He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.
"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.
After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.
Fervently, passionately kissed you.
It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.
But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.
After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.
"Could we take a walk in the garden?"
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While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.
The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.
"Won't you be cold?"
"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.
"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.
He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.
And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.
"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.
"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.
"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."
To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.
The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".
His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.
"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."
Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.
But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."
He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.
So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.
"Let's warm you up, huh?"
Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.
So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.
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arminsumi · 6 months
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🔞 just geto
geto suguru is crowned best pussy eater and he has a tongue piercing and he has a dragon tattoo and he practices nunchaku shirtless and he listens to fall out boy and he prefers to have sex with the lights off and he's got a thick cock with a little bit of upwards curve and he knows how to slow dance and he enjoys stripping for you and he's actually a slut and he has a happy trail of dark hair creeping up his pelvis and he always offers you a bite of his food and warns that it's spicy and he also likes seeing you wear his big bulky white shirt and he also has a huge praise kink like please just tell him he's doing good and that he makes you feel like no one else and he also loves it when you admire his tattoos or trace them with your fingers and he also loves french kissing so you can feel his tongue piercing and also loves eating you out around the house and he practices martial arts shirtless and he shows off when you watch him because he wants you to look at HIS muscles no other man's muscles but HIS and he gives you bone-breaking hugs when he hasn't seen you in a while and he loves your cheek kisses and deeeeeeep down beneath that brooding boy exterior he's a softie who cries to ghibli movies and he also has had a DORKY ASS CRUSH on you ever since he was sixteen and first trailed along on a mission with you and satoru always teased him abt having a crush on his senior and the biggest fact of geto suguru is that he is so whipped for you and will be at your beck and call without even realizing or registering your command — he'll just say "yes my beauty" and fulfil all yours needs and requests
ok that's the suguru that lives in my daydreams. thought i'd share. what's ur suguru like? lmk 😌👍
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tuhtofu · 10 months
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Thinking about Sugar daddy!Pantalone, who escorts you by the arm in public, flashing his close-eyed smile as he shows off the fact that you chose him to the world. Is there a greater honor than that?
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who hires one of his underlings to hack into your phone just so that he can search through your texts for anything you might possibly want that you’re hesitant to ask for. Somehow, you always find yourself spoiled with everything you can think of, and in turn, you throw him a gentle smile as you jokingly ask if he can read your mind. God, that smile of yours is like a drug to him.
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who travels with you all around the world, eagerly taking you to the most luxurious spots and making sure that you don’t have to move a single finger, no matter the cost. Though he’s got plenty of rats by his feet, ready to serve him, you’ve got him under yours.
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who doesn’t hesitate to take out anyone who dares to look your way for a moment too long. Anyone who has the audacity to offer you help, whether it’s one of his servants suggesting to put your jacket on, or a strange man opening a door for you in public, is met with a death glare that later, when you, the deity beside him isn’t there to witness it, leads to their demise.
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who always offers to take care of you. Arrived home after a night out? You mustn’t waste those beautiful hands on something as miniscule and pathetic as changing. Your jacket’s already on the hanger, and he’s on his knees, slowly removing your expensive shoes. He takes a moment to admire the sight in front of him, thinking about all the times he’s been in this exact spot before.
Like when he’d look up at you, just like this, with pleading eyes, begging for you to step on his cock. It has no use, after all. He’ll give you anything you want, as long as you bless him with that disdainful look on your face when you watch how drools and squirms on the floor, trying to gain control over the way his hips jump at the feeling of your foot rubbing him.
Or when you actually allow him to cum from the stimulation, and he knows that the only place to do so is on your shoes, for the sole purpose of buying you new ones, but more than that, so he can lick them clean afterwards, like your own personal dog.
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who feels like he’s too cocky for his own good, and needs you to put him down where he belongs. Make him scrape his knees on the floor while you tug at the leash in your hand, one that’s attached to a beautiful silver collar with your initials carved on it, as you force him to crawl to you with his credit card in his mouth. Promise that you’ll only allow him to spend his money on you if he repeats that he’s nothing but a wallet to you, an utterly useless pet whose only purpose is to serve you in every way possible.
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who always gets bratty when his ass is stuffed, whether it be by a plug or your cock. He’ll purposefully ignore your commands, talk back and degrade you, resist when you attempt to restrain him, all in hopes that you’ll punish him and fulfill his masochistic desires.
Throw him on the bed, pound into him, gag him with your fingers, spank him with a paddle, torture his cock, gods, just please do whatever you want to him, as long as he’s left in a puddle of cum, drool and tears, unable to think a single coherent thought.
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who loves the strong and powerful image the two of you exude, and the fear in people’s eyes when they recognize him. Little do they know about the ropes hugging his body tightly underneath his clothes, or the vibrating butt plug that’s sitting comfortably inside him, filling him with the anticipation for the moment it’ll turn on. How about the pretty, pink cock cage that serves as a constant reminder of who the true owner of his body is? 
Sugar daddy!Pantalone who’s completely and utterly obsessed with you. No money in the world compares to your gaze. His body and soul is nothing if not yours. He would do anything, whether it be betraying his own god, or burning the world away, just to be close to you.
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tabernacleheart · 2 years
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The word ‘commandment’ often implies coercion and regimentation, and ‘obedience’ implies an unwilling or even a sulky child. In the case of God’s commands, however, a commandment is a gift, indicating the way in which love can be expressed; and obedience is a way of seeking to draw closer to God by imitation. The lover seeks to act like the beloved, to be modelled on the qualities which are loved and admired. The commands of God are not random or domineering, but are indications of the ways in which we can draw just a little nearer to the infinite qualities which are seen in the creating and redeeming God. The generosity seen in the beauties of nature and humanity, in the beauty of tolerance and forgiveness, are reflections of the divine qualities. This [humble, constant, compassionate "reflecting"] is how Jesus kept His Father’s commandments and remained in His love, and how we too may do the same.
It might even be said that Jesus needed to suffer so that we might see that God too can endure suffering. Suffering and the supreme suffering of death are human experiences which cannot [derive from] God, [nor can they be said to reflect any quality of divine perfection, for sin and death only entered the human experience through sin]. And so Jesus Himself took them on to share and ennoble these also, [transmuting death itself into a door to life-- a paradox only God Himself could accomplish]. Jesus showed His love of the Father and His love of humanity by adopting and enduring the experiences which cannot touch an impassive God-- [by being so touched, He proved His tender heart forever.] Such is the full meaning of the love expressed by ‘as the Father has loved Me, so have I loved you.’
Dom Henry Wansbrough; Commentary on John 15:9-17
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