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katicin · 2 days

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we studious as fuck man, bouta learn all the juicy history of creation man, knowledgeable as hell yo

#daiten #art #oc #priest #what tomes shall we read

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tobnikk · 2 days

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Art dump of my sillies.

I adore my boy rm.

And the sillies hehe.

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evolutionsvoid · 7 hours

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Though the Church of Divine Wealth reigns supreme in this land, it isn't the sole faith that can be found. Just looking at the Church itself, you can find many sects that have formed inside and out. Those who worship a sole humor, or perhaps those who see their gods in different idols or flesh. At such a size, it was almost inevitable that fragments would break off and find their own way in this world, taking the good word and fluids to create their own truth. But beyond the reach of the precious golden Ichor are others who find worship in different places. Hearing songs from the depths of the ocean, or seeing hope in the stars dancing through the sky. And there are some who find the same faith in death and rebirth, but they have their own angels.

In this world, vultures are sacred birds, for none can deny their role in the great cycle. They are those who come from the heavens to mourn the dead and bring them back to the cycle for rebirth. With bowed heads, they consume the fallen flesh then ascend to the gods themselves, to ensure those who have perished can be brought back to the creators to be reshaped and reborn. It is said that the vultures themselves can bring forth new life, vomiting eggs from their maws, crafted from the essence of those they carry within. Eaters of the dead, birthers of new life, there is no surprise why some revere these divine birds. They who see these vultures as messengers of the gods, maintainers of the great cycle. These birds have a connection to the world that goes beyond nature, and into something far greater in their eyes. They carry the words of the gods, see the fates of those who live and determine who is worthy of divine rebirth. To have one's body consumed by a wake of vultures is an incredible honor, as you have been deemed a fitting soul. Thus, the followers of these birds believe in sky burial, leaving their dead up high so that the blessed messengers may come to collect them.

Of these followers are the Speakers of Carrion, priests and prophets who give themselves to the vultures and faith. The Speakers utterly worship these birds, to the point that it is their life's goal to become like them. Being eaten by a vulture is one honor, to be reborn as one is something far greater. So they don cloaks stitched from shed feathers, and wear masks that bear their wondrous visage. Clawed gauntlets upon their arms to give them talons, and hunched forms to share the same postures as their blessed birds. They wish to be like the vultures, and in turn choose to speak for them. Speakers of Carrion are said to be able to predict the future, divine one's fate and suss out secrets hidden in the world. Their connection to the messengers give them a vision and mind that can tease out the mysteries of the world. But in order for one to receive such wisdom, they must bring offerings to the Speakers. Food and dead flesh are simple gifts, but still eaten with appreciation. This shall gain you a few words and a paltry vision. What you really must bring them is a fresh liver, as that is the organa these vulture worshipers view as the most valuable. To them, the liver is the seat of the soul, and it holds great power and knowledge within its meat. Offer them a liver, and they shall greedily devour it and use its essence to answer your questions. One ability they are said to have is to be able to draw information from the life of the person the liver once belonged to, reading their digested essence to pull forth secrets and knowledge. Some will bring the livers of dead loved ones to the Speakers of Carrion to get answers for questions never fulfilled in life, to know what secrets were kept from them, or simply to hear their final words before returning to the cycle. Animal livers can help power the visions of a Speaker, but they are very much weaker than a liver pulled from man.

Livers are not the only offerings they crave, as they can be prophets if gifted the right material. What they seek are pellets vomited forth from birds, common for some species but incredibly rare for the likes of the divine vultures. Inside these hardened nuggets are said to be messages of fate, written in code and bone. If one has the luck of finding an intact pellet, bring it to a Speaker so that they may tease it open and see what secrets it holds for the future. Their art calls for cutting open the pellet, and observing the materials held inside. Hair, bone and other digested pieces are words and letters within these pellets, and how they are arranged paints a picture. From this divination, they speak of things to come and what lays in your future. If you find a rare vulture pellet, they can possibly learn secrets that are kept from mortals, taking a peek behind the veil of it all. This divination may require a lot of patience, but when one watches the process, they will no doubt see art.

In their pursuit to be like the vultures, the Speakers seek to eat the livers and essences of those who passed, so that they may carry their burden. For each soul they consume, they will add a carved weight to their back. Shaped from bone and crafted in the visage of man and bird, these are meant to symbolize the essences held within their guts. The heft of them to remind them of the burden they carry. It is their hope that if they play this role enough, that the vultures will see them as kin, and that they may be granted the life of a divine bird. Some believe that this rebirth will occur when they perish, and others think that this transformation will come in life. When they have consumed enough and pleased the gods enough, their feathery cloaks will swallow them and birth forth a new vulture, a new messenger. To the Church, these folk are mad heretics, worshiping false idols and denying the grandeur of Ichor. These folk are chased from the towns and cities, labeled as lunatics and liars. To go to a Speaker for their services is seen as blasphemy and imbibing in heretical knowledge. However, the Church's efforts against these folk has been quite lax compared to others they persecute. They keep them away from the settlements they hold sway over, dissuade others from seeking them, but do little else. It is said that the Church sees them as so useless and pathetic, that they don't want to waste their time on a few feathery madmen. And once war broke out across the lands, all efforts to keep these followers away have vanished, as they have greater worries now.

So now the Speakers of Carrion sit upon their perches and squat within destroyed towns, reading the skies and beckoning to the birds. Those who have lost faith in the Church may seek them for hope and closure, trying to find anything to cling onto in these trying times. And sometimes, while you walk these ravaged lands, you may find a tattered robe of black feathers left upon the earth. Many would say it is the remains of fools who sit and preach while bandits and monsters run rampant. Another victim of this bloody madness. But to those who find these discarded garments, they can't help but look to the skies and wonder...

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"Speaker of Carrion"

In a world crafted from dead flesh, where bodily fluids are held as gods, of course the scavengers are seen as divine. And about time too!

#priest #prophet #vulture #bird #art #drawing #fall of ichor #blood

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ramlightly · 5 months

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Worship

#my art #suggestive #father basil #dandelion #demon #priest #monsterfucker

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kailysander · 2 months

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Forbidden Fruit

[uncensored version up on Patreon]

#artists on tumblr #angel #demon #golden hour comic #priest #horror #mythology #webtoon #tapas comic #webcomic #Lucifer #Satan

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 8 months

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#the simpsons #simpsons #witch #burning witches #cartoon #classic cartoons #priest #90'#90s #Patty and Selma #Patricia Maleficent “Patty” Bouvier #Selma Bouvier-Terwilliger #sisters #witchcraft #witch aesthetic #witches

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maalidoesart · 6 months

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this scene is bery VERY wenzhou coded

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kkarmin · 3 months

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#digital art #priest novels #priest #faraway wanderers #word of honor #wen kexing #zhou zishu #wenzhou #danmei

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chwengie · 1 year

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The cool whites and black reds hanging out and sharing stories ^^

#MXTX #CQL #SVSS #TGCF #TYK #Priest #wangxian #hualian #bingqui #wenzhou

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senseichaos · 2 months

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I JUST HAD THIS THOUGHT HAD TO WRITE IT

IMAGINE

Priest kink with Alastor.

You'd come back to your hotel room one day, tired from the day with Charlie and wanting nothing more than to be with your darling boyfriend Alastor. The ache in your feet is immeasurable against the flooring as you place your hand against the door knob, wrenching it open to be met with Alastor on the other side.

Though he isn't himself.

He's wearing a Priest outfit. A tight, black shirt that accentuates his broad chest with an iconic white collar. And then a pair of slightly too-tight dress trousers that cling against his hips in the most attractive way. You can't help but let your jaw drop, especially at the way he has his hands clasped together as he stares at you, unspeaking.

But your biggest question is, how the fuck did he know you were into that? You had never told him of this kink, nor had you even given him the slightest hint that you were. How does he do it? You wonder.

Your legs suddenly feel light and airy as you take a step forward, closing the door softly behind you as the air runs slower than molasses. The tension so think not even a knife could manage to cut through its heavy muscle. Taking another step, you place a hand against his chest, feeling the fabric of the shirt beneath your fingers as he stares with such a deep glance. Unreadable with his features.

"Alastor?" You ask, pulling your lip between your teeth.

He chuckles "That's father to you, my child,"

Your knees go weak, legs threatening to give out as goosebumps spread across your skin. Alastor sees this, taking the hand against his chest into his own large hand, dragging the other hand of his up your bare arm with a dark unmoving gaze. You gulp, intimidated and feeling small from it all.

"I read through that Diary of yours, what sins you've committed, my dear.."

Your blood runs cold and your throat clenches. Your diary. There is an entire entry about how hot you found priests, and well... A lot worse stuff, if you're honest. That would explain this, and the sins he speaks of. And even still at his deep voice you feel frightened, especially at the way his claws pinch at your skin.

"I do have to say, I don't know how I kept myself from reading it for so long, but even so I think you have to repent.."

You gulp down thick saliva in your throat, staring at him with large eyes.

"H-how, Father..?"

He chuckles, placing his hand against your cheek as he leans forward. You feel small, helpless. Even in such an intimate grasp you feel like your whole body is turning into mush, even at the slightest pry of his handsome hands.

"Get on your fucking knees,"

You don't think you've ever dropped down to your knees faster, at such a pace you most likely bruised them both. But you don't care. Instead you watch with an unwavering gaze as Alastor unbuckles his belt, lip set between your teeth in arousal. Your core pools with an aroused heat, drenching the thin panties beneath your skirt. You feel like by the end of this there will be a puddle from such arousal.

Alastor grasps the base of his cock, pulling his half-hard length from the confines of his pants, balls and all. You practically drool with desire, saliva gathering in your mouth as you bring your hands up. Though Alastor growls at this, jerking his cock in your face as his dark eyes pour into your own.

"No touching yet, my child. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes father.."

"Good girl, now open for me, hm?"

You tremble, opening your jaw as wide as it can go to welcome his length.

Alastor digs his hand into your hair, tugging you forward until your lips are clasped around his tip. You whine, not expecting this to happen. Especially when he begins sinking his length into your throat.

And then without warning, Alastor shoves almost all of his length into your throat, leaving 2 inches out that he couldn't fit in without you choking. And even then you choke, crying out against his cock as he tugs painfully on your hair, watching tears spring in your eyes.

"Fucking repent. Take the rest of my cock in that filthy throat of yours or I'll make you." Alastor demand, pushing your head down until you have no choice but to let the rest of his cock dive into your throat. You choke, of course, tears falling down your cheeks and dripping against the floor below.

Then Alastor begins fucking that throat of yours, drawling his hips back in hypnotic movements at a harsh rate. Your nose continuously presses against the bed of his pubes, tickling you very slightly every time. You can't see anything, the only thing in view the red haze of pleasure that fills your vision whilst being used like this.

Alastor's tail twitches in pleasure, yet his brows are angry and his smile is condescending and forceful. He enjoys every second of fucking your filthy throat, dead set on making you think about every single thing you wrote in that diary of yours.

He'd revel in the way you cry out, eventually having to take your head off of his cock for a few moments to let you breathe before diving your head back onto it.

"The things you wrote about me in that diary were filthy. Just filthy. I hope you understand this will not be tolerated without consequences, little fawn." Alastor lowly mutters, making his words more powerful with the way he thrusts particularly hard, cock head hitting against the back of your throat.

You moan, sobbing onto his cock as his claws press against your scalp. And yet you don't care. You'd let father Alastor ruin you like this any day. Use your filthy sinful throat. Fuck your tight holes. Make you think about the things you dreamt. He'd make everything come true and yet also reprimand you for wanting them.

"Stupid girl, stupid stupid girl." He tuts, hips quivering as his high begins to take him over.

And before you know it, he's forcing your head onto his cock all the way, emptying his thick warm seed into your throat as if you're just a cum dump for his using.

"Tell father you want him in your dirty pussy now, hm?"

You beg him for it more than you've ever begged before.

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #priest #priest alastor #priest kink #alastor x reader smut #smut #alastor smut #hh smut #hazbin hotel smut

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seraphim-eternal · 4 months

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