#cw religious imagery/themes

[pachimation]

a sinner wakes up and finds himself trapped in eden.

announcement that i’ll be working on a long-ish (40+) page vampire/vampire hunter chscr comic and will therefore be on hiatus for about a month!!

spiderweb in paradiso will be debuting at comifuro18 this may, and i’ll (do my best to 🤞) have asia preorders open and up by next friday with intl orders opening date tbd

[idiot-mushroom]

white lillies are a symbol of devotion

me and @si-li were on w whiteboardfox together and were talking abt how ctommy is super religous and it inspired me to make this piece!!

[sting-raes]

[SCOPOPHOBIA WARNING!! THIS PIECE HAS MANY EYES!! AND STARING!!]

If you think my stardrop piece had unintentional religious imagery wait till you see this one (yes, I decided to make them accompanying pieces hehe)

I don't think Elliott's religious (at least, not in the present) but I like to think he holds some religious guilt from his past.

Inktober prompt list below!

[xmagicalpotatox]

stained portrait

[robo-milky]

“Are you aware of the most beautiful book?”

REVEREND/PRIEST/CULT LEADER! ROOK MAKES A COMEBACK!! May do more stuff with him- also made me really happy that a good chunk of y’all wanted to see more him (like a year ago-)

Definitely not my usual style but I felt like forcing myself to render since I was unsatisfied with my style previously, and this definitely helped- Even forcing me to look up actual references- Even though art is just a hobby now, I still want to improve for the sake of it-

[softiedownfeathers]

True form

[mmehrunesraz0r]

leon s(aint) kennedy

[liquidlycan]

DANTE BASILLO - 8:11 THEMED STIMBOARD

with themes of religion, rams, and tainted divinity

cw religion

art by du-buk! please god play 8:11! it's fantastic :)

requested by lycan

x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x

[dollologys]

windswept dreams ... ♥︎

columbina rentry ! credit for the graphics is linked through the biggest graphic (click it !) & please do not remove it .

requested by ; no one .

songs/lyrics used ; all my own stuff !

graphics made by ; @horrorification on tumblr . (please message me if you want to be untagged/never tagged again!)

rentry.net/angelic-s ; definitely not mobile friendly i am scared to look at it on my phone ; only looks good on light mode . i know its not versitile but i saw the graphics and couldn't help myself they are so pretty .

[bitethetablet]

merchandise

[kirstein-alice]

wip!!

inspired by Rurus' tweet! (screenshot below)

[jae-is-drawing]

The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit

I have been obsessing over religious symbolism and imagery with deltarune recently so here’s this

[charred-angel-ribs]

An interaction I just had with my brothers a few minutes ago:

*Watching Hannibal*

Brother A: This is like The Bible

Me: Hold on, pause.

*He pauses the TV*

Me: Elaborate?

Brother A: In The Bible, Mary gets pregant, not with Joseph's baby, and he's just got to take her somewhere to have this baby that isn't his. He doesn't do anything. He's irrelevant. Mary gets pregant with God, and Joseph has nothing to do with it. That's Jack [Crawford].

Brother B: Joseph just sees Gabriel walk out of his house and suddenly Mary's pregant.

Brother A: Yeah, exactly, and Joseph's just stood there.

Me: Wait, so- are you comparing Hannibal to Gabriel or God? What- I mean, you're comparing Will and Hannibal to Mary either Gabriel or God - I assume Will's Mary.

Brother B: It depends which one gets him pregant 🤷‍♂️.

Me:

Me: You're going on the Hellsite.

[d1s1ntegrated]

basilica

tomura shigaraki

cw: religious trauma, religious motifs/themes/imagery, catholicism, defiling of the church, angst, hurt, slightly ooc

a/n: just a short angry religious trauma post drabble bc i'm feeling a type of way rn and it kinda sucks lol. sorry for projecting this onto u tomura i love u

try reading with the song! it adds a layer to the writing i feel honestly is kind of important

Tomura wanted to cry. Wanted to scream in anguish, beg and plead for a miracle or a sign from a God, any God. But the pews of the rotted church served little to sanctify him as he crumbled each one with an angry fist. Shaking fingertips dug into the deep grooves in the mahogany and crumbled them into forgotten prayers. Scattered pages of proverbs and psalms littered the marbled tiles, and the sun rays twinkled in through the ornate stained glass, reminding him just how small he was against the hands of God. There was no God here- only Him, and He alone could stand the tides of change with a battering ram for a heartbeat. It hurt, it hurt so badly, to be forgotten and known all at the same time. Who was he? Tenko Shimura, the sweetened cherub boy, with scraped kneecaps and bruised elbows? No, never. It was a dream, a softened hymn that only time knew the words to. Now he stood, an adult in the eyes of society- though his body never felt quite big enough to be- Tomura Shigaraki. A man, a disciple of the Feared One, a machine created to destroy. And destroy he would. Starting here.

He didn't believe in God. He didn't follow the practice of any one religion, especially not the Catholic Church. Hell, the fact that there was even a church to find out here was a one in a million shot- they weren't exactly few and far between in the cities, but the Catholic population in Japan was a small decimal compared to Shintoism or Secularism. But for this moment, he felt it was best to be in here. A lot of western media he had consumed over the years painted church and Christianity as some all-consuming Light, like this is where miracle happened. Well, the only miracle here was that Tomura even set foot inside.

Every step pressed another layer of dust into the deep red runner up to the sanctuary. The altar remained pristine as he caught his breath, his throat tight and dry. The sound of his thumping heart swelled in his ears and head, the pressure reminiscent to being underwater. Looking up, the height of the cathedral shrank him down to atoms. It felt like a mockery. Like even God was reminding him he was small.

Small. Tiny. Pitiful.

Each word of arrogance against him made his blood turn darker, thinner, rushing through his veins as he grasped at the elegant pillars, dragging himself to the ground with a gasping cry, so that he fell to his knees at the altar rails, his tired bloody eyes locking with the adorned chancel, and the poignant, giant statue of the Son, hung plainly in front as if to scream "I'm here, too".

He felt more alone at this revelation, that human faithlessness was so overlooked because of sin, that people like him weren't meant to be here not because of their trouble finding faith, but for their lack of it. That he too would be damned because he chose not to find light in God, and instead found his own way of safety through destruction and chaos and everything Sensei had taught him. His own scripture, signed in viscera, torn at the edges. It wasn't his fault no one taught him to believe, but it was damn sure his fault he didn't seek it for himself- and he felt it, now, as Mother Mary's half-lidded gaze held above his wakened frame as if he were a pestilence on this world that God created.

Was he in the wrong for keeping his head low? Should he hang it high, be grateful for the hands that supposedly formed him and molded him? This, Tomura knew, was the entire reason behind his aversion to faith. Because he needed someone to listen, and not a single ear fell for him. Not even Sensei cared enough to listen to his alleged son, his pride and joy as some called it. He felt neither prideful or joyous when face to face with him, instead it was a sinking, sorrowful feeling, that could best be described as grief. Grief for his old life, or for the new one he failed to perfect for himself, his Sensei, his friends- try as he might, he was just so small here, and could do only so much.

Church was a last-ditch effort to feel something. Anything. His time was low, and the unfortunate arms of fate were every turning and chiming, reminding him that his goal was only so far. It was seconds away, he felt as he could reach out and grasp it- but he was too well trained, he knew better than to reach out to the things he really wanted, in fear he would destroy it all in the blink of an eye. Not even Gods hands could hold him now, though, as he pretended to pray for one last chance.

His hands pressed into the cold tile and he felt the ground beneath him rumble, his body quaking and splintering in wretchedness, the power lifting him entirely. The pure white turned a murky grey as they shattered and cracked under him, the giant spires atop the roof even quivered at the desolation. And as he screamed, as his throat burned in anger, poor Mother Mary fell to the ground from her pedestal, an ironic display. The caricature of fallen angel, in the house of God, airing his grievances to no one but marble and blood wine, he stood. Destroying it all.

Not in the name of God, but the name of Tomura Shigaraki. Because there was no God that could ever come close to being this angry.

[critterishere]

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!🤬🤬

[the-dance-of-italy]

Lament of saint Judas Iscariot.