#bejeweled skeletons

[thethreedeadkings]

Decorated by the skilled lay brother Adalbart Eder, St. Valentinus in Waldsassen wears a biretta and an elaborate, elegantly jeweled version of a deacon’s cassock to emphasize his ecclesiastical status.

Detail of the hand of St. Valentin in Bad Schussenreid, Germany, one of a number of Katakombenheiligen (Roman catacombs saints) named for the popular Italian saint.

The skull of St. Getreu in Ursberg, Germany, is covered in silk mesh and fine wirework set with gemstones, which may have been done in Mindelheim, Germany.

St. Felix, pictured here, arrived in Sursee, Switzerland, in 1761, and was decorated to match St. Irenaus, brought over a century before by Johann Rudolf Pfyffer of the papal Swiss Guard.

[Source Heavenly Bodies: Cult Treasures & Spectacular Saints from the Catacombs. copyright, Paul Koudounaris]

[nocnitsa]

[kabybaali]

Death can't tear them apart 😭💕

Drawing inspired by @vahntares thread ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[thedepartmentofdiscoveries]

The talented nuns of Ennetach decorated the ribcage of Saint Felix in Aulendorf. © 2013 Paul Koudounaris.

[palatial-monstrosity]

halloween is over which means i have to redecorate the top of my white kallax until I have the money to replace it with something nicer please send suggestions.

[katabay]

my knight-monk agenda strikes again, but this was less of a 'I read something that made me experience several emotions and a strike of inspiration at once,' and more of a 'wouldn't it be fucked up if the bejeweled skeleton saints came to life and and started. eating people. or something. in revenge. medieval catholic horror, or an older horror of not being buried right. zombies, even. a complete bastardization of holy visuals. zombies.'

it's a far away idea, but I still wanted to play around with font layouts. like, if I DID make it into a full comic: these would be visual vibes, perhaps.

it's also a little bit about the kind of intimacy that these kinds of spaces provide, or in the case of this monk: the heavy trauma of war and the death of your brother, the escape to a secluded monastery, spiritual brotherhood to make up for your dead brother, but your role as a physician keeps pulling you back to this violence you want to escape. physician, heal thyself, only you have a holy calling to serve those in need, so instead: physician, open up your wounds again. saint jude, patron saint of lost causes, give us a fucking hand here, man. amen.

Homosexuality in the Renaissance: Behavior, Identity, and Artistic Expression, James M. Saslow

and this one is about earlier history than the medieval period that this comic is set in, but the monk character is sort of an exploration of earlier themes. a little bit. I like overlapping eras with each other, I've done it before and I'll do it again. this character is an exploration of some other stuff too, but mostly this book was interesting to read

From Monastery to Hospital: Christian Monasticism and the Transformation of Health Care in Late Antiquity, Andrew T Crislip

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Seduced By Your Scent (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary: Swayed by rave reviews, you purchase a perfume that endeavours to make any man fall for you. But you don’t want just any man; you want your beloved husband.

AN: Based on a perfume review I saw on twitter/from discord, and my friend got me back into Bridgerton so here we are. Potential part two to Subtle-tea��but can be read as its own fic. 

Content Warnings: Reader wears a dress, is referred to as “my lady”. Suggestive language and actions, 18+ readers only, minors DNI

Masterlist // AO3

“You must try this elixir! It’s like they’ve bottled Venus and sent her to solve all marital issues!”

Not that you and Benedict needed any kind of aphrodisiac or marital advice. After your glorious wedding and the honeymoon of your dreams, you grew more enamoured with one another with each passing day. But you couldn’t help but become intrigued by your companion’s impassioned declarations.

Here was where that curiosity led you: sitting at your vanity, staring at the bejewelled and beautiful bottle – fitting of its praise and hinting at the power of the perfume it held. It cast rainbow refractions across your room as you rotated it with a scrupulous gaze. The glass stopper released with a delicate pop and you gave the opening a tentative sniff. Sparks of something musky with a hint of whimsy reached your brain. It seemed to caress your sense of smell, lull you into a foggy serenity whilst curving the corners of your mouth into a smile.

A light knock at your bedroom door did very little to pull your from this haze, and your maid stood awkwardly in the doorway as you dragged your eyes away from the bottle and over to her.

“Breakfast is ready, my lady,” The maid bobbed a curtsey.

“Thank you.” And, as she closed the door behind her exit, you gave the bottle one more look.

Well, it couldn’t hurt.

With care, you tipped the bottle then dragged the soaked stopper across one wrist. It pressed together with its partner then paired against your neck to seal the scent in.

The moment you stepped into the dining room – empty besides your beloeved husband - Benedict rose from the head of the table and drew out the chair beside him for you to sit. It was part of your routine, in your home and wherever you went, as was the smile with which he greeted you. Often it was broad and beaming, like today. Sometimes it was more subtle but with his eyes just as bright. On one or two occasions, it arrived with eyelids sunk and a hand to his forehead that pounded with consequences from the previous night’s actions, but still he smiled even though (and these were his own words) it felt like his skin was being melted from his skeleton like candle wax.

“Good morning!” He called to you while you crossed the room, his arm outstretched to clasp you close then guide you into your chair.

Continuing the routine, you kissed his cheek before sitting down, “Good morning.”

Now, this was when Benedict would push your chair in then sit beside you, ready to dine and run over your plans for the day ahead. And he started as normal. However the rate with which he pushed your chair into place was as if he was encased in jelly.

You clocked his new blank expression, “My love, are you alright?”

Instead of speaking, Benedict bent over the back of the chair and kissed your cheek. A short and slight sniff dragged up where his lips had pressed. He withdrew gradually, just a few inches, his brow was creased in thought.

“Hmm.” His jaw twisted and he clicked his tongue. Then he leant back in, this time his nose drew a tickling line down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Benedict,” You felt your face grow hot as you resisted the urge to tense when he planted a quick kiss on the curve of your shoulder.

But your mild embarrassment only warmed the scent on your skin and spread it further around you until Benedict was encased in it beside you. Just one of your thoughts was spared in thanks to the fact that you and Benedict had stipulated that you dine alone – no butlers, no maids, no interruptions unless someone was dying.

“Have you been bathing in an aphrodisiac?” Benedict mused. Without turning away from you, he dragged his chair loudly across the floor so that he could perch himself beside you. Taking your hand, he kissed your loosely closed fist and breathed deeply in before finishing his question:

“Or are you just naturally this irresistible, and you’ve been hiding from me?”

“I can’t think what’s gotten into you,” You said, your voice wobbling when Benedict raised his eyebrows at you.

“I think you know exactly what’s gotten into me.”

Melting under his sparkling stare, you weakly nodded at his plate and setting, “Your breakfast is getting cold.”

Benedict didn’t look away from you, “I know what I’d rather eat.”

A laugh bubbled up your throat and you found yourself bordering on hysterics as Benedict’s eyes creased and he leant in close to you to titter and teem with joy.

After taking a few deep breaths, your face aching from the grin, you managed to say, “You must be drunk from the alcohol in that perfume.”

With a hand clutching at his cravat, Benedict gasped, appalled, “How dare you? Must I be drunk to show my wife some affection?”

“Nevertheless, you approve?”

“Oh yes, but only when we’re at home. Can’t let anyone else catch a whiff of this. You’ll seduce them, make them all fall in love with you, make them fall to their knees.”

“We absolutely cannot have that. Only you’re allowed to do so.”

Very suddenly, Benedict rose and kicked the seat from beneath him, pulling and pivoting you around so that you faced him. Knelt before you, you let him kiss you whilst you pet through his dark hair. His affections did not distract you from his hands tracing up your legs. The skirts of your dress caught on his wrists and exposed your sensitive skin to him.

He mumbled dreamily, “I could not agree more.” Then, with another deep inhale pressed into the side of your neck and his hands drawing down your undergarments, he drew from you the first of many delighted sighs that mingled with the lingering scent of your new perfume.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Thinking about Ianthe's arm:

"He says it’s hideous and he’ll gild it for me—” (“Tacky,” you said.)"

Gold isn't something you can manipulate with necromantic ability. But here's Augustine casually offering to gild the bones of an entire skeleton arm, which sounds like it would be quite laborious manually.

But of course, what is the Mithraeum filled with?

Things like this:

"a skeletal arm wrapped in gold foil, amethysts studded like so many eyes between the knucklebones"

and this:

"gilded and bejewelled skeletons of Third and Seventh heroes dressed in gold and green robes of necromantic office, with amethysts and topazes and emeralds for eyes"

You have to assume that the Lyctors in general, or Augustine in particular, have been DIYing the bejeweled House hero relics for the last myriad, so adding some gold to an arm that's attached to someone isn't all that much of a stretch.

This is also riffing on an actual thing in Catholicism, so if you're trying to imagine the Mithraeum, I promise you that you are not visualising something as weird and tacky as reality...

[froody]

I wish there was some way to donate my remains to those Catholic nuns who bejeweled all those random catacomb skeletons and pretended they were saints and put them in beautiful reliquaries.

[ultrainfinitepit]

Day 7: Catacomb Saint for my Angeltober 2023.

The virtue angel Greed embodies charity as well. They appear as a bejeweled, armored fox skeleton. But Greed's true form is actually an amorphous, shadowy being that inhabits this glittery shell.

[thethreedeadkings]

The arrival of St. Albertus’ remains from the Roman Catacombs in 1723 was a source of great excitement for the parishioners of the church of St. George in Burgrain, Germany, offering both a tangible connection to the early Christian martyrs and a glimpse of the heavenly treasures that awaited the faithful.

The relic of St. Deodatus in Rheinau, Switzerland, is an example of an unusual reconstruction technique in which a wax face was moulded over the upper half of the skull and a fabric wrap used to create a mouth.

St. Munditia, in the church of St. Peter in Munich, grasps a flask supposedly containing dehydrated blood as evidence of her martyrdom. When faith in the catacomb saints waned, Munditia was boarded up and spent several decades hidden from view.

The jeweled skeleton of St. Benedictus.

[Source Heavenly Bodies: Cult Treasures & Spectacular Saints from the Catacombs. copyright, Paul Koudounaris]

[favcharacterpoll]

ROUND 4 MATCH 19: QUILL VS. SANS

Quill Kipps from the Lockwood and Co. books faces Sans Undertale from Undertale. Who do you like more?

Quill Propaganda:

"He's such a loser. Has beef with 3 16 year olds. He's like 4'10. Had one of the best character arcs ever. He almost died. His sword is bejeweled."

"guys vote for my son quilliam and his stupid little bedazzled sword"

Sans Propaganda:

“Fucking skelektion (i have the flu”

“funny skeleton :))”

“C’mon look at him just look c’mon look look at him and his genocide-related-depression c’mon he’s so sexy and”

“"Gosh dont even get me started, first of he's my husband my beloved my one and only my bonefriend my soulmate the love of my life the absolute perfect man to exist he's someone every guy strives to be he's just that perfect oh my gosh also did i mention he's my husband? Exactly, see my point? Secondly like how can you not like him! He's funny he's a nerd and is depressed! Just like tumblr userbase! Everyone can relate to him! And yk if you dont like him there's like bajillion alternative versions of him so go ahead pick and choose your favs there's surely at least one you'd like! (Which one i like best? HA! THATS CLASSIFIED (.... it's edgy version of him, of course it's the edgy version))Thirdly! He's so stylish like have you seen taht hoodie? Have you seen those gym shorts? The pink slippers? What a timeless look srsly! And one that everyone can recreate! Everyone can be as stylish as Sans! What an icon!Fourth-ly(?)! What a great brother he is! Supporting his brother jn everything whilst still annoying the shit out of him! Thats a true love for your sibling if i ever saw one! (That sentence doesnt make sense im sorry im tired) Fifth! He's hot. Okay thats it thanksies for your time <3<3<3"”

[master-of-fluff]

Stealing a This or That cuz I'm bored so why not

Version to copy here: pumpkin or apple // cocoa or cider // Halloween or Thanksgiving // leaf piles or apple picking // hay ride or corn maze // wooly sweater or furry slippers // pumpkin carving or knitting // squash or sweet potato // black cat or bat // skeletons or witches // fake blood or fake spiders // mashed potatoes or stuffing // orange or black // apple pie or maple donuts // marshmallows or candy corn // vampire or werewolf // fireplace or cozy nook // spiced wine or craft beer  // candied apples or s'mores // big scarf or oversized hoodie

My own answers:

pumpkin or apple // cocoa or cider // Halloween or Thanksgiving // leaf piles or apple picking // hay ride or corn maze // wooly sweater or furry slippers // pumpkin carving or knitting // squash or sweet potato // black cat or bat // skeletons or witches // fake blood or fake spiders // mashed potatoes or stuffing // orange or black // apple pie or maple donuts // marshmallows or candy corn // vampire or werewolf // fireplace or cozy nook // spiced wine or craft beer  // candied apples or s'mores // big scarf or oversized hoodie

@bejeweled-skybound @squib-2006 @randomness227 @lennon-cuddlywump @thebluelittlewitch2-thesequel

@trappedham @amour393 @star-ocean-peahen and anyone else I'm forgetting

[bastardtrait]

not iain providing angelo with a soundtrack like he's some kind of bard... are we shocked he's a bottom? anyway they were gonna proceed to the temple, but uh, angelo opened up a chest and became a bejewelled skeleton (with his stretched earlobes still visible…) so. y'know what. bye.

transcript:

IAIN, strumming and playing: And maaaaybaayyy ur gonna be the one that saves maaay

ANGELO: Please be artifacts, please be artifacts, please be--

ANGELO: …alright we're packin it up for the day.

IAIN: Ahhh isn't this so much nicer than being on fire, Angelo? Angelo? Eh?

ANGELO: In my professional opinion as not even slightly an archaeologist, this appears to be uhhh ahhhhh uhhh. dirt,

[pwlanier]

An Unusual Spanish ‘Memento Mori’ Oil on Canvas Depicting the Penitent Saint Mary Magdalene Lying in a Grotto a Classical Landscape Behind Contemplating a Skull Her Lower Body Displayed as a Skeleton Her Upper Half with a Richly Clothed Bejewelled Décolletage

Mounted in a contemporary wood frame decorated with scrolling foliage and with skulls to each corner

Mid 17th Century

Finch and Company

[fitzrove]

Bavarian catholicism is SO creepy I looked up places to go to tomorrow in munich and in the main church there is a bejeweled skeleton just hanging out on display 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 no wonder the wittelsbachs were fucked up goths I would be too 🤣