Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
The Demigod and his Lover
You can't convince me Jesus wasn't queer. And Judus was a jilted lover. Both destined to die because of one another. "You betray me with a kiss"
I also totally personally headcannon Jesus as a Trans man.
And like Jesus wouldn't be the best lover. What I mean is he is a giver. Like sure, it's good to be generous, but he wanted to change the world by hand. He was also constantly getting himself in trouble. He threw over the tables of the taxcollecters. He mocked monarchs and said fuck capitalism, everybody gets to eat. He believed in the fundamental good of humanity but was also a chaos gremlin.
He is the half son of one of the biggest narcissistic bipolar gods. And as much as he uses it to his advantage,(like he'd use the "do u know who my father is" for threat and excuse) he also goes around trying to clear up some of his dad's messes. Trying to spread peace and love whether people wanted it or not.
just recorded a talk @ my moms church abt sexual immorality bc i have the NASSSSTIEST nanami idea (age gap, emotional infidelity, ANDDD a church setting meowwww)
I could talk for ages about how my perception of angels growing up was entirely different from my perception of God.
An angel: A guardian to protect you, and watch over you when your in need, God: He will send you to hell if you think about girls a little too hard.
Something I learned is that people in queer artist spaces LOVE angels and religious themes, when they aren't religious . Maybe its something to do with how religion effected us growing up. Taking an old cultish like experience and feeding it queer content until it becomes something of a comforting theme.
I've seen this happen to so many people here, especially those with furry angel ocs specifically. And maybe thats also why we love Angel hare so much?
Something I learned is that people in queer artist spaces LOVE angels and religious themes, when they aren't religious . Maybe its something to do with how religion effected us growing up. Taking an old cultish like experience and feeding it queer content until it becomes something of a comforting theme.
I've seen this happen to so many people here, especially those with furry angel ocs specifically. And maybe thats also why we love Angel hare so much?
gross nasty gross boy
Absolutely no one:
Angel foxes when they orgasm :
More details under the cut!!
Okay so basically my idea for lust is a chubby/fat fem character that is based on a mantis because when they like have relationships they eat their partner and I thought that was very fitting for lust plus!! They're chubby/fat because of fertility!
Second we have sloth!! They're based on a sheep (because counting sheep to sleep and stuff) plus! Their hair/wool is like a candle (it's wax) and also their skin is literally based on the sky and reflects how they feel, their eyes change as well!! :3 moons when they're sleepy/good and suns when they're awaken/mad!
And that's all for now I will share more designs very soon!! :3
TW: religious themes/trauma, Implied domestic abuse CW: Straining/Bright colours
Can you feel the earth turning slower than it ever had before? So much has happened over the last couple of years, and the weight is almost too much. We’ve seen war, and illness. We’ve watched a fool become king to this country, and the changing of the seasons that is no doubt melting down the icecaps- hell, we even gained a second moon in September. It’s enough to make anyone begin to worry if this is downright biblical.
I remember during my childhood, the idea of an apocalypse being just on the horizon of our lives was something so often talked about. It was spoken about as if it were a concrete fact, and that one day everything we hold near and dear was going to burn in hellfire. What stuck with me most though,was how they would talk to us children, about how we had to be strong, and how we were so special. About how we wouldn't let our minds be poisoned by those outside of the community. Now I’m 24 years old, and I’m living far away from my hometown… and still, the earth continues to turn, my heart is still beating.
I try to remind myself that I’m different now, and that I can look at things from a less coerced mindset. The fear is always there though, burning white hot in my lungs. I think about my poor grandmother, on her deathbed, how she looked me in the eyes and said, “You aren’t Jules...who are you?” Her last moments, I think about often whenever I think about the end of the world.
Maybe the earth ended long ago, in another timeline far from this one. Maybe everyone we’ve ever loved, every fear we ever hated- maybe it all went up in smoke and we can’t remember it because remembering would mean enduring the fear all over again. Sometimes times I think I can feel a tension thick in the air, like I’m running out of time, and a million breaths gasp in fear all at once, all over the globe- and that feeling terrifies me because I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I may have played a hand in it.
Can you feel that tension? Can you feel the earth’s blood and hunger? Well, maybe we can use this chance to turn things around. Let’s save the planet from itself, we have to be brave because we live in a world of constantly being frightened. They say it on our televisions, in articles and books that we should be afraid of our future and that things look grim, but I think there’s still hope for us yet. We just have to take matters into our own hands, and make this world worth living in, a little at a time. We can fix this. It’s our last chance to forgive ourselves.
“Good. It reminds me that I am…”
I trail off, hesitant to say alive. If there is no death, is there really life? A breath no longer holds the same weight to me that I once did. Not after gaining this immortal stretch, this breath of eternity. A breath is simply a creature comfort to me now, I could live without it and simply bask in the aching, screaming burn of lungs without the air that was once so vital for survival, but I opt to breathe both out of habit and for comfortability.
She shakes her head at me, frowning. I know that it scalds her, ruffles her, that her “gift” to me has been met with such an abundance of bitterness. But she stole me away, forced me to watch all the people I loved slowly age and slip away. She stole my golden years, trapped eternally in the body of a young adult may seem like a gift, but jobs begin to be difficult to attain when your resume doesn’t match your face. To say the least about the pain of immortality.
As the child grows, I bask in their light and their warmth, loving them as if they are my own. Their life, 98 years, was a lengthy stretch of time for most humans, but for me, it felt like a blink. Over far too soon, and like all the other losses, this one destroys me. My heart torn out, my lungs aching, and again, she returns.
“I told you this would hurt.”
“Please.” All I need to say, she knows what I’m begging for.
Scoffing, she leaves me, crumbled at the rubble of the alter of my place of worship. The alter to my God that I was raised in. The God that she ripped me away from, barring me from the eternity that I had longed for. She took my family, took my faith, and gave me no hope of escape from this agonizing existence, and expects me to grovel and worship her every breath as if I was given a gift, not punished for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
So the cycle begins again, spiting her with my every thought. Every fiber of my being dedicated to being an eternal thorn and embarrassment. I find the weak, the helpless, the fearful, the abandoned, and I love them. Help them, protect them, and when she warns me of my impending pain, I spit at her warnings. I dive in and love just as much and as unwaveringly as I did when I was human, like I haven’t felt the agony of the impending loss a million times.
For every time she has chosen to be a harbinger of agony, of suffering and pain, I chose to be one of love, of happiness and hope. I will until the world rots around us and the gods and forsaken immortals are all that remain, or until she decides to unmake me, going back to my conception and unraveling my DNA as it begins its formation, so that my handprint can never mark history.
Her fierce and evil face contorts in fury each time I smile in anyone’s direction. But it’s only natural. Only natural for us to be at odds, for her to hate me so.
Her hideous name is Hate, and I have and will always worship at the alter of love.
The abandoned child you’ve taken in sleeps on your lap as the god who gave you immortality softly warns you. “This will hurt.”
YOU ARE NOT CHRISTIAN IF YOU PROMOTE HATE.
YOU'RE NOT.
I don't care what verse you cite. I don't care what justification you give. Christianity is about LOVING OTHERS. THIS IS WHAT PUSHES PEOPLE AWAY. THIS IS WHY PEOPLE LEAVE. If you look at someone and say they are lesser because of xyz, you're NOT CHRISTIAN.
People I know and that I see that have the audacity to go ahead and say you can't curse and then use the lord's name in vain because 'this is an abomination!' just make me SO MAD. YOU'RE NOT CHRISTIAN IF YOU CLAIM JESUS PREACHES ANYTHING BUT ABSOLUTE LOVE. YOU'RE NOT CHRISTIAN IF YOU GO TO CHURCH AND THEN TURN AROUND AND TELL SOMEONE THEY'RE GOING TO HELL. THIS ISN'T ROCKET SCIENCE.
[Coloured text- YOU'RE NOT CHRISTIAN IF YOU CLAIM JESUS PREACHES ANYTHING BUT ABSOLUTE LOVE. YOU'RE NOT CHRISTIAN IF YOU GO TO CHURCH AND THEN TURN AROUND AND TELL SOMEONE THEY'RE GOING TO HELL. THIS ISN'T ROCKET SCIENCE.]