#The Garden Of Earthly Delights

[389]

Panel of hell (detail), Hieronymus Bosch The Garden of Earthly Delights, c. 1480-1505 oil on panel, 220 x 390 cm (Prado)

[a-book-of-creatures]

I know it’s a tiny detail overlooked among the rest of the Garden of Earthly Delights, but I have to appreciate how jaunty Bosch’s cow is

[cosmonautroger]

Hieronymus Bosch, The Garden Of Earthly Delights, 1500

[zorosdimples]

pairing ⛧ yandere!diavolo x f!reader x barbatos

warnings ⛧ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. this is a doozy… implied toxic relationships, inhuman anatomy, monsterfucking, breeding, knotting, cervix fucking, dubious consent, pregnancy mention, lots and lots of cum, passing out, neglect (kind of), bondage and restraints, implied nonconsensual acts at the end. reader has a vagina and is referred to as “my little human” and “little one.” please let me know if there is anything i missed!

word count ⛧ 1129

notes ⛧ this is the first installment of the garden of earthly delights! i apologize for the wait; i hope everyone enjoys <3

you have never looked more beautiful—more his—than in this moment, diavolo thinks. the demon prince has one massive hand encircling your ankles, pressing your knees flush to your chest. his other hand cradles the back of your head with adoration, forcing your teary gaze to remain on him, a clawed thumb hooked between your swollen lips. his amber irises are nearly subsumed by his pupils, jet as the moonless night.

black spots cloud your watery vision as you slobber all over the digit, broken whines the only sound to leave your lips; the golden tips of his horns flash in your periphery. you’re on the verge of losing consciousness.

diavolo has been breeding you for hours. his long, thick cock—gilt, ribbed, impossibly large, and complete with a knot—has already stuffed you so full of seed that your stomach is distended. the viscous liquid, a rich cream with an otherworldly sheen, spurts out of your abused cunt with each of his powerful thrusts. the rest of it tingles hotly in your core.

“you can take one more, can’t you, my little human?” diavolo coos, breath unnervingly steady given the force of his movements. he leans down to smear a gentle kiss against your damp hairline before dropping your head and sliding his hand down to rub your puffy clit, plenty slick with the fluids coating your flesh.

“c-can’t,” you whimper. your nerves are fried and the overstimulation has your head pounding and your legs shaking as diavolo’s cock batters your cervix. your hands scratch and scrape at his chest in an attempt to get him to slow, to stop—anything—but your nails do not even pierce the prince’s thick flesh. the demon chuckles at your pathetic protests and his pace quickens in response.

hasn’t he taught you that you are not as fragile as you think?

“you can,” diavolo asserts, pulling out entirely. his crimson strands hang past his forehead and obscure his eyes, the glistering gold almost menacing as he leans over you. he strokes himself lazily, grazing his flared knot with a shiver, ready for his high. ready to see your womb swell with his heir.

“and you will,” he punctuates by plunging his cock and knot inside you in one fluid motion, a guttural groan rumbling from his heaving chest. your mouth stretches to accommodate a scream that never passes your lips. your body is aflame, dripping with sweat; the room fades into nothingness as diavolo’s hot cum pumps into your pulsing cunt.

the room is dusky when you awaken. your lover is gone, his warmth and ever-present touch absent, stillness in his place. the slippery silk sheets cling to you and glide along your curves as you sit upright. you clutch your forehead and curse the dull thump in your skull, a wince breaking the quiet. you feel a trickle of sticky cum ooze from you to join the wet puddle you slept atop like an animal.

the demon prince’s little pet.

a rustling sound draws you from your thoughts. a looming figure swathed in shadow floats toward the bed; you squeak in fright as you yank the sheets up to your neck in an attempt to shield your nude form.

“there you are,” barbatos, who you can now see as he emerges from the darkness, says. “i apologize for disturbing you. i am here on behalf of the young master.”

you breathe a shaky sigh of relief—the demon butler is your only friend in the lonely castle. “you scared me, barbatos. where’s diavolo?”

barbatos turns on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a faint glow. his eyes, emerald in the low light, shine eerily as his gaze meets yours. “the young master had to run to an impromptu meeting, but he did not wish to disturb your rest. thus, i am here to aid you in his stead.”

you furrow your brows. a meeting. you were once a member of the student council, privy to conferences and other social functions—until diavolo’s devotion to you got the better of him. (as a human, you are far safer being completely removed from lesser demons. and there is no one better to care for you than the prince of the devildom himself.)

you suppress your memories. “thank you. i can manage myself.”

instead of bowing and leaving, though, barbatos stands still. his forked tail sways at his feet and his skeletal horns gleam resolutely. after a few moments of deathly silence, you rephrase your dismissal: “i don’t need any help, barbatos. i appreciate you checking on me.”

the demon takes a step closer to the bed, his knees nearly knocking against the frame. “you do not seem to understand me,” barbatos muses, gloved hand delicately resting beneath his chin. if you were less disoriented, you would notice the hint of mirth in his tone. “lord diavolo ordered me to assist you, as he had to leave unexpectedly. i shall honor his wishes.”

the corners of the butler’s lips curl into a faint smirk, but no humor marks his visage. in fact, there seems to be a primal hunger lurking in the dark, verdant depths of barbatos’s irises. fear beams through your body. it starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads its icy tendrils out through your limbs, biting your fingertips. headache forgotten, you now feel faint; your heart skitters like scared prey. unconsciously, you pull the sheets around you tightly, temporarily shielding yourself from the humiliation that is sure to come.

“there is nothing to fear, little one,” barbatos soothes, smoothing a hand over your hair, matted with sweat and his master’s cum. the act is more patronizing than it is comforting.

the demon snaps his fingers and the sheets wrapped around you disappear. you scramble to cover yourself with your hands, but barbatos is infinitely stronger and faster than you are. his forked tail—cold and wet—coils around your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. another snap of his fingers, and your body is bound with invisible restraints. your arms are stretched above your head, almost painfully so. your legs are spread wide and bent at the knee; no matter how hard you try, you can’t move. there’s even a gag in your mouth to muffle your cries and force you to suck oxygen through your nose.

crouching between your open legs, the butler tsks. “oh my, what a mess.” his tail slithers up your leg and settles atop your womb. the slightest pressure from the appendage causes a stream of diavolo’s cum to rush out of your bruised hole. the demon’s snakelike tongue darts out and tastes the semen that is now pooled beneath your ass.

bartabos’s eyes meet yours and he smiles something wicked. “let’s get you cleaned up—shall we?”

[shopwitchvamp]

Metaphor: ReFantazio // Hieronymus Bosch

So I'm sure a lot of people recognized this one:

Homo Avades // Tree Man from The Garden of Earthly Delights

But I've been picking up on so many as I play it that I'm about to start a collection here, haha

Homo Gorleo // Dancing Owl Head Man from The Garden of Earthly Delights

Homo Oppo // The Egg Man from The Last Judgement

Homo Fulquilo // Little Creature from St John the Evangelist on Patmos

And in one case at least, a special attack even looked like it was inspired by a drawing (from a page just titled Monsters)-

So will all the "humans" turn out to have pretty direct Hieronymus Bosch counterparts? Or maybe some other surreal renaissance artists will make an appearance?? Idk yet but I'm excited to play more and find out!

[a-swift-and-terrible-sword]

[speerfisch]

Homo incurvatus in se, Bosch inspired studies and illustrations, sketchbook nr. 19, 2024

[murasaki-cha]

The way I, an arts and design major, bolted up from my seat so fast to get closer to the screen when I realised the painting (or more correctly the triptych)in Hades' place is "The Garden Of Earthly Delights" by Bosch

[wtimetravelgentlemen]

Got myself an early Christmas gift

And in the process doubled the amount of beaks I have on my body

Face jumpscare 👹 Can't guarantee this will stay up

+ Good boy points if you recognize where the creature is from

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Hieronymus Bosch “ The Garden of Earthly Delights” right panel: Hell (Details)

[certainwoman]

The Garden of Earthly Delights (2004), dir. Lech Majewski

[spacecovvgirl]

The Garden of Earthly Delights (triptych, right panel), 1490-1500, Hieronymus Bosch // Berserk (Volume 34, p. 172), 2009, Kentaro Miura

[pandorasboxofhorrors]

[zorosdimples]

pairing ⛧ creepy medical student! law x gn! reader

warnings ⛧ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. while there’s no smut, this is suggestive, and everything that happens is nonconsensual (law is gross). mentions of masturbation, fucking inanimate objects, bruises, and death. additionally: cum sighting, cursing, knife play, a little blood, some spit, manhandling, and general grimetown weirdness.

word count ⛧ 1132

notes ⛧ this is another installment of the garden of earthly delights series, as well as a contribution to @bastardblvd’s house of slimy horrors collab—my prompt was “pumpkin patch”! the plot is nonexistent… just go with it <3

something isn’t right.

the early evening sky is hazy, the sun obscured by a leaden film that shrouds grimetown’s pumpkin patch in a deathly hue. the barren field before you is more of a squash graveyard than anything else—the vast expanse of dirt is littered with a few dozen orange carcasses.

this is certainly not what you were expecting when your date suggested a fun autumnal outing.

“this has to be the world’s most depressing pumpkin patch,” you grouse, craning your neck to look up at law’s stony expression; as usual, his face doesn’t betray his thoughts. you can never get a good read on him. you don’t know him well enough to tell if he’s simply awkward or if he genuinely doesn’t emote. “we should go somewhere else.”

the jet-haired man places a firm palm on the small of your back, urging you forward. “c’mon, we’re already here. we can’t make jack-o-lanterns without pumpkins. toji joe’s is out of ‘em.”

there’s a peculiar lilt to his words—a faux positivity that makes you hesitate for a split second. but you move forward anyway.

the blustery air ruffles your clothes as you drift across the dark earth with law, searching for a pumpkin that isn’t in some state of decomposition. this is exactly the sort of scenario you hear about on your favorite podcasts and documentaries: a careless person accompanied by a man they barely know in a remote area, not so much as a whisper of nearby life on the wind.

all you really know about law is that he’s a handsome medical student who shares similar interests, namely in true crime and literature. that, and he had been unusually pushy about this outing.

“hey, that looks like a good one.” law points to a suitable carving prospect. crouching down to get a closer look, a gasp leaves your lips when you find a hole a few inches in diameter bored into the side of the pumpkin. what appears to have once been a pale cream fluid is now a flaky crust, caking the opening. “is that—”

“probably,” law cuts in, resting a cold, tattooed hand on your shoulder. startled, you nearly topple over, but his strong arms catch you and pull you to his chest. now standing, you jerk in his embrace; he releases his hold and you take a few steps back. “it’s one of kappa upsilon mu’s fall festival activities.”

it’s impossible to hide the disgust that furrows your brow and creeps into your voice. “they mutilate pumpkins and fuck them like fleshlights as a frat tradition?”

law shrugs. you swear you see a glimmer of humor flit through his amber irises. “it’s not even close to the weirdest thing they do. ever heard of a ‘cum fountain’?”

you hold up a hand to stop him. “i don’t even wanna know.”

but something isn’t adding up you think with a frown. “if you knew all the pumpkins were going to be cut up and…violated, why did you bring me here, law?” you tried to measure your words carefully, but now that they hang in the open, your accusation is evident.

your date’s lips curl into an ominous smirk. the familiar chill of dread nips at your heels and paws at your chest. “well,” law starts, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a switchblade. your eyes rivet on the tool—the weapon—as he fiddles with it, nimble fingers gliding along the handle before flicking it open with ease. his bored, yellow gaze unnerves you; his words ooze calculated confidence. “i’m gonna practice my carving skills with you.”

his statement rips the breath from your lungs. unsure of what to do, you chuckle uncomfortably, praying that he’s still talking about the goddamn pumpkins.

law edges closer to you, a hunter testing his prey. you don’t move—you don’t think you could if you tried. your mind is racing in countless directions, but you can’t settle on an action, a plan. and this freak—your date—is one small thrust of the blade from you, crowding your space. so you stare down the predator’s maw.

“you’re beautiful,” law states, though it doesn’t sound complimentary; it’s an observation. there’s a clinical coldness to his words that makes you feel like you’re trapped in a microscope slide. he gestures to you with the knife, the unspoken threat palpable.

“oh. um, th-thank you,” you stammer, eyes darting wildly, cornered prey.

you force yourself to think: how do you escape this fucker? you had to take a shitty taxi to get to the pumpkin patch, but the driver could barely keep the car in its lane and tried to proposition you for sex. is everyone in grimetown a slimeball? you don’t realize your nails are biting so deeply into the skin of your palms that blood is dripping onto the dirt.

as though he can read your thoughts, law says coolly, “i wouldn’t run if i were you.”

options dwindling, you remember your lifeline. slowly, you inch a hand toward your back pocket where your phone sits. but your opponent is perceptive; law cracks a wide smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, running his tongue across his sharp teeth. he raises the knife and presses the flat side of the blade against your neck.

it’s an effective warning.

“there’s no signal out here—the only cell provider that services grimetown is slime mobile. you can check, though, if it makes you feel better,” law taunts.

to your horror, your phone reads “no service” at the top of the screen. your skin itches, nerves buzzing with adrenaline. your hands shake, fear and rage coalescing into an unshakeable tremor that has sweat beading at your temples. hot tears of frustration singe your cheeks. but the cold steel of the blade against your throat saps the fight from your body.

your final resort?

“fuck you,” you hiss with all the venom you can muster. and, before you can stop yourself: ptui. you launch a glob of spit that lands squarely on law’s cheek, punctuating your insult.

law doesn’t flinch. rather, he swipes two calloused fingertips through your precious gift. he holds his wet digits up, admiring the glistening pads of his fingers, then pops them into his mouth. the groan he emits while enjoying your taste makes you lightheaded. he pivots his blade so that the honed tip scrapes an angry line up the column of your throat. the pressure isn’t enough to slice your flesh—yet.

you shriek when law forcefully grabs your jaw and pulls you to him. bruises in the shape of his fingers will bloom on your face tomorrow—if you live that long, anyway. for the first time, his wide grin crinkles his hawkish eyes.

his voice is thick with desire as he murmurs, “i’d like to fuck you first.”

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Triptych: The Garden of Earthly Delights Hieronymus Bosch, Prado, Museum, Madrid, Spain.

* * * *

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.

[Sandra Lynn Sparks]

[artsandculture]

The Garden of Earthly Delights (1500-1505) 🎨 Hieronymus van Aken aka Bosch 🏛️ Museo del Prado 📍 Madrid, Spain

The Garden of Earthly Delights is Bosch’s most complex and enigmatic creation. For Falkenburg the overall theme of The Garden of Earthly Delights is the fate of humanity, as in The Haywain (P02052), although Bosch visualizes this concept very differently and in a much more explicit manner in the centre panel of that triptych than in The Garden of Earthly Delights. In order to analyse the work’s meaning the content of each panel must be identified. On the outer faces of the triptych Bosch depicted in grisaille the Third Day of the Creation of the World, when the waters were separated from the earth and the earthly Paradise (Eden) created. At the top left we see God the Father as the Creator, according to two Latin inscriptions, one on each panel: For he spake, and it was done and For he commanded, and they were created (Psalms 33:9 and 148:5). On the inner face of the triptych, painted in brilliant colours which contrast with the grisaille, Bosch painted three scenes that share the single common denominator of the concept of sin, which starts in Paradise or Eden on the left panel, with Adam and Eve, and is punished in Hell in the right panel. The centre panel depicts a Paradise that deceives the senses, a false Paradise given over to the sin of lust. This deception is encouraged by the fact that the centre panel is shown as a continuation of Eden through the use of a single, continuous landscape with a high horizon line that allows for a broad, panoramic composition arranged as three superimposed planes, in the panels of the earthly Paradise, the Garden of Earthly Delights and Hell.

While sin is the connecting link between the three scenes, the iconography in the Paradise panel requires further analysis in order fully to appreciate its meaning. As will be noted below in the analysis of the technical documentation, when he initially embarked on the work Bosch included the Creation of Eve on the left panel, but in a second phase he replaced it with God presenting Eve to Adam. This very uncommon subject was associated with the institution of marriage, as Falkenburg and Vandenbroeck discuss (Bosch, 2016). For the latter, the centre panel represents the false paradise of love, known as Grail in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, which implied a carnal interpretation of God’s mandate to Be fruitful and multiply, as instituted in marriage. The men and women that Bosch depicts in the Garden of Earthly Delights believe they are inhabiting a paradise for lovers, but this is false and their only fate is punishment in Hell. The extremely pessimistic message that the centre panel conveys is that of the fragility and ephemeral nature of happiness and delight in these sinful pleasures.

In the centre panel, from which the triptych derives its name, Bosch included a large number of naked human figures, with the exception of the pair at the lower right, who are usually identified as Adam and Eve after the Expulsion from Paradise. Men and women, both black and white, are generally seen in groups or pairs, maintaining amorous relations with a powerful erotic charge that refers to the panel’s pre-eminent theme, the sin of lust. The animals, both real and imaginary, are much larger than their proper scale. Among them, Bosch particularly emphasizes two different types of owl that evoke evil. Staring straight out, they direct their disturbing gazes at the viewer at the two lateral edges of the panel, slightly set back from the immediate foreground. Also present are plants and fruit, which are again much larger than their scale dimensions. The entire composition is dotted with pieces of red fruit that contrast with other large and small blue ones, these being the two principal colours in the scene. In contrast to the apparent confusion that prevails in the foreground, geometry imposes itself in the middle ground and background. In the former, Bosch depicted a pool full of naked women. Around it, in an anti-clockwise direction, rides a group of men on different mounts (some of them exotic or imaginary), who have been associated with different Cardinal Sins. In the background of the scene Bosch included five fantastical architectural constructions in the water, the central one similar to the fountain of the Four Rivers in the Paradise panel, although here broken to symbolize its fragility and the ephemeral nature of the delights being enjoyed by the men and women who fill this garden. And now the owl depicted inside the fountain in the Paradise panel is replaced here by human figures in sexually explicit poses.

The right panel depicts Hell and is Bosch’s most striking representation of this subject, on occasions referred to as the musical Hell owing to the significant presence of instruments used to torture sinners who have devoted their time to secular music. In his text in the present catalogue Larry Silver describes the punishments meted out to each sin. While lust prevails in the centre panel, in the scene of Hell all the Cardinal Sins are punished. A good example is the punishment of the avaricious, who are devoured and immediately expelled from the anus of a theriomorphic creature with a bird’s head (a variety of owl) seated on a type of child’s lavatory stool. Gluttons and the sin of gluttony are undoubtedly referred to in the tavern scene located inside the tree-man, in which semi-naked people seated at a table wait to be served toads and other unpleasant creatures by devils, while the envious are tortured by immersion in frozen water. Further punishments correspond to vices censured by society at the time, including board games, while particular social classes are also singled out, including the clergy, who were notably criticized at this period, as reflected in the pig wearing a nun’s veil embracing a naked man in the lower right corner.

Although the triptych in the Museo del Prado is not signed, its attribution to Bosch has never been doubted. Its dating, however, is the subject of considerable debate. The results of the dendrochronological analyses could allow it to be located within the early years of the artist’s activity, around 1480-85, as Vermet stated without any supporting evidence. However, the work’s stylistic proximity to the Adoration of the Magi Triptych in the Prado (P02048), which can be securely dated to 1494 following Duquenne’s identification in 2004 of the donors, Peeter Scheyfve and Agneese de Gramme from Antwerp, confirms that the present work must have been painted in the 1490s and not after 1505, as most authors preferred to believe prior to Duquenne’s discovery. It has recently been argued that it must have been painted in or after 1494 as the image of God the Father creating the world on the reverse of the triptych is inspired by a print by Michel Wolgemut of the same subject -including the same text from the Psalms as appears on the wings- which appeared in Hartman Schedelsche Weltchronik published in Nuremberg in 1493.

Research undertaken in 1967 by Gombrich and Steppe allowed The Garden of Earthly Delights to be associated with the Nassau family. An account by Antonio de Beatis, who accompanied Cardinal Luis de Aragon as his secretary on his trip to the Low Countries, states that on 30 July 1517 the triptych was in the Nassau palace of Coudenberg in Brussels, where De Beatis presumably saw it. Since in the late 1960s the painting was considered to be a late work by Bosch, executed after the death of Engelbert’s II of Nassau in 1504, it was therefore thought that the patron was Henry III of Nassau (1483-1538), Engelbert nephew and heir. In the present day and in the light of the information that locates the triptych in the 1490s, it can be confirmed that it was commissioned from Bosch by Engelbert, who must have intended it for the Coudenberg Palace.