Crystal Mountain
  • Crystal Mountain
  • Death
  • Symbolic
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Conjuring power it opens wide

On your seventh day,

is that how it’s done?

Twisting your eyes to perceive

all that you want

To assume from ignorance

Inflicting wounds with your cross turned dagger

Inside crystal mountain

Evil takes its form

Inside crystal mountain

Commandments are reborn

Muse Things~

Tagged by: chibixtrick

1. Name of your muse: Hisoka

2. One picture you like best of your muse’s FC:

image

3. Two headcanons you have for your muse that you have never told anyone: 

  1. Hisoka wanted someone he could train himself to make sure they would become a worthy opponent. But he has always been too fond of his freedom from responsibilities and things like that to even try to find that person… who finally found him first in the end.
  2. To remain on the same topic. Hisoka will never admit how fond he is of Mara. Even while he tought about killing the kid a few times since he looked like a waste of time and energy in the beginning, he grew attached of him in a very strong way but does not like to show it because he also considers it as a weakness of his. Among all people, Hiso-chan will always remain his main weak point.

4. Three things your muse loves doing in their free time:

  1. Observing events and people
  2. Collecting informations for hismelf or others but in the end, mostly for his own interests.
  3. Annoy people he’s fond of and training Mara

5. Four people that your muse “loves”: (I won’t mention HxH canon characters since they are already pretty obvious for the whole fandom)

  1. Hiso-chan ( chibixtrick )
  2. Yuuki/Hazama Terumi ( venenatis-mordeo )
  3. Mandrake Fyodor ( nakazaniye )
  4. Christine Marlow ( hothisoka1 )

6. Three fond childhood memories:

  1. The first time he answered back against someone bullying him
  2. The first time he managed to get some money by his own means
  3. Every accomplishment he made thanks to his own strength

7. One thing they’d go through heaven or hell to save/change:

Nothing specific.

8. Tag 10 people to do the same:

People I already mentioned and organdoom, conjuringchains, emittingdoctor, painxpacker, shockorobot, vxlts

Tagged by: lycan-sorcery

Name of your muse: Art.

One picture you like best of your muse:

image

Two headcanons you have for your muse that you never told anyone:

  1. Without having sugar after he wakes up he can’t function.
  2. When he finds it hard to sleep, he’ll read a book to help relax but then gets to caught up with the story and ends up staying up late anyway.

Three things that your muse loves doing in their free time:

  1. Catching up on sleep.
  2. Eating desserts instead of proper meals.
  3. Spending time with Nice.

Four people that your muse loves (platonically or romantically): 

  1. Skill
  2. Nice
  3. Gasquet
  4. Three &Honey

{I wish he interacted with more characters…}

Three fond childhood memories:

  1. Meeting Nice.
  2. Hearing Skill’s wish.
  3. Having pancakes for the first time.

Two things your muse regrets:

  1. Not protecting his brother.
  2. All of Re: Hamatora.

One thing they’d go through heaven or hell to save:

  1. His brother / Nice.

Tag ten people to do the same:

ask-speedofsound-nice, conjuringchains, electrifyingbirthday, threeamperes, sonicitaden, gouthesupermanager, freemum-mamiya, darkdoctorratio, operationtable, sniperthehunter

i always expected something of you
my imagination conjured something
that i know now could never be true

i wanted you to see
how much i cared for you
i was hoping you’d tell me
‘aw babe, i love you too’

my imagination got me in trouble
because i should have known
dreams are dreams
and nothing more
(a lesson i have learned
a time or two before)

and now that i’m ‘over’ you
i don’t dream anymore
all i can think about at night
is her walking through your front door

how much your parents love her
seemingly more than they ever loved me
how she distances herself from you
in a put off manner
like there’s some other place she’d rather be

and it’s more than frustrating
because
i have so much love to give
and no one to give it to
because for some reason
she is an infatuation for you

i wish i could show you
that she doesn’t care
that in the end she’ll leave you
and i’ll still be here

because she has a boyfriend
who she seems to like
you’re nothing to her
except extra
on the side

how can i show you
that for me you’d be more
i’d adore you and love you
you’d be my whole world

but i can’t tell you
or show you those things
all i can do is lie awake
trying to remember how to dream

—  #74 / expectations (dreams)

camaelczarka is a fierce and strong warrior who lives a nomadic life sleeping in woods, taking perilous quests for money, occasionally adopting fox pets, and seeking new lands and new evils to conquer with no one but nature to be her master.

are-are-kay is a cunning and saucy woodland witch who supplies potions and rare herbs and mushrooms which can do all manner of things from bringing the dead back to life to giving someone one hell of a hallucinogenic experience. She trades them for goods and services and maybe answering a few riddles. 

When Cam needs a powder that are-are makes in order to fulfill one of her quests, what the witch asks for in return is simple: her heart. 

"…I’m not giving you that. How about some gold? Sapphires from the mountains of Koriar?" 

"What good would those things be to me? I can conjure gold with a few incantations and waves of my hand."

"Well what good is a heart?" 

"Hm…. I don’t know. I guess I just feel like it’s important. and I want it :) "

"So this is just a whim for you, hm? I don’t have time for this. Are there any more reasonable witches around here that you know of?" 

"This is non negotiable, the moment we laid eyes on eachother we made a pact stronger than a bond of blood. If you won’t cut it out now, I’ll wait. As many years as it takes. But whether you cross the sands of Ali-kaya or the rivers of Yuhora, that heart in your chest will belong to me." 

SYMBOLISM

image

CELTIC GODS & GODDESSES

BLODEUWEDD

In my mind, Celtic symbols we can connect with archetypes (heroes/heroines) in myth are the most sticky. Meaning, these symbols ‘stick’ in our consciousness.

Why?

Because the story of the heroine becomes personal. We can relate to her plight, and associate the horoine’s journey with our own life path. Therefore, her symbols become intimate in our mental constructs too. This offers of a strong bond with a symbol - something we can relate to.

With this in mind, I’m throwing out the Celtic symbols of Blodeuwedd for your soulful contemplation.

Blodeuwedd herself has several lessons to impart (as is the case with all myths, there is always a moral involved). She was magically conjured up by Gwydion and Math who wanted to provide Lleu Llaw Gyffes a bride.

It’s not that Lleu needed help finding a ladyfriend. Hardly, he was a fair-haired, boldly bright beau…very warrioresque, quite the catch. However, his mother, Arianrhod cursed him, disallowing him the company of a human wife (it’s a long story).

So, Lleu’s uncles conjured Blodeuwedd for his pleasure and company. She is an exquisite beauty (altho, not too faithful). In fact, her name is translated to mean “Flower-Face.” Indeed, Blodeuwedd was magically created from the essence of flowers.

The following are a few Celtic Goddess symbols of Blodeuwedd. As you contemplate her symbols, try to incorporate the depth of their meanings into your own life experience.

Meadoseet Flower, Broom Flower, Oak Pollen, and Owl

IMAGE: “I was fashioned from flowers.I mean that quite literally.Two men,great magicians I am told,crafted my body from bud and blossom,petal and pollen.Nine kinds of flowers, of course, they knew that much: the tiny tassels of great trees, the sweet small meadow blooms, the wild-flowers woven with the wheat. And the hawthorn-bloom, white as winter. Hawthorn. Did they not know? The arrogance of Men, to believe they see.”

CREDIT http://www.whats-your-sign.com

{}Perforate Me{}


Breathing with controlled excitement,
I feel my engorged veins
Through the taut stretch of imagined dreams,
What angelic creativity you conspire through devilish means. Through small motorized machines.These tools are made to conjure them like coils of a metal snake , stainless steel. The fangs are needles and I’m the prey awaiting the bite from a vampire lover. Like ink from a whiskey bottle, sterile from the alcohol .

You smell like the coffee stained pages in your sketch book and weed growing near by behind the church parking lot. The barren wasteland.
You shell the misunderstood soul of
A human child burdened with leashed talents and pure wild vision,
The hands of a genius molding me into something envisioned while daydreaming in economics class.

Cigarette smoke in the waiting room filled with faint jazz music plays and swirls round and round to that little metal vintage looking electric fan bought at second hand, making funny noises as the slight breeze hits the wooden Mona Lisa beaded curtain in the near doorway.

I lay there in beneath you with trust .
Each sting I inhale , I fill my heaving lungs with it, intoxicated. Bites pierce my pores and fill with liquid color. The excellence of a weird high.
There is no limit to the expressive mind of yours. We are almost one. Barely.

It won’t be my last visit here.I am not your first addicted canvas.
This type of pain and release . The sought valve of inhibition .
They roll off your vibrating hands and onto my smooth breast.
You’ve inked me. But with hands like
A steady sailing ship . You follow the North Star clearly in your dark lit mind.

Some will not approve of your workmanship nor appreciate this art.
The chest of a woman is not the place of any tattoo, one might say.
But it’s more than show, or liberation or even defiance. No .
It is deeper than the buzzing sting.
It’s more. Much more.
It’s your creative spirit inhabiting me.
It’s
Your
Very essence
Alive
In
And
On
Me.
The Artist.
The master creator.


I am the canvas that walks around showing you off, and how you left me.
Disfigured in the most
Beautiful of ways.
I am the canvas, that chooses the artist. I am the only canvas with life pulsing and blood rushing in and out of each molecule. The ultimate canvas.
The canvas who yields
Willingly .

But,

"What does this one mean to you?"
Well,
It’s more..

It is so
Much more.


~Darlene (braveheartswhisper)
(Curvypervyme journals)

anonymous said:

Canonverse! Sejuani finds out Janna's adorable, pointed ears are sensitive and teases her preferably with her mouth but anything works :

“Earrings?”

Sejuani holds them high in the air. Twinkling crystals shaped like snowflakes, mounted on silver. Quite pretty by any measure. Janna’s impressed by that if nothing else.

“Do you not approve?” Sejuani says.

Janna shifts. Her ever-floating hair moves behind her. She looks away, conjuring a few errant snowflakes within the tent, watching them fly around.

“It’s not that,” Janna says. “I think you did well picking them out. Just one of the many benefits of being my husband, I suppose, is good taste.”

Sej gives her a look. “I know fine craftsmanship when I see it,” she says.

Janna floats through the air towards her. She strokes Sej’s cheek, floats right into her arms. Maybe if she can distract her, she won’t figure it out.

“Oh?” Janna says. She kisses the warlord’s neck.

But Sej is on the ball today. She takes one of the earrings, clears away a shock of Janna’s hair, and—

And her fingertips touch the tips of Janna’s ears.

The Ice Queen isn’t fast enough to stifle the little moan that leaves her. Sejuani gives a satisfied smile.

“Ahh,” she says. “A little sensitive, are we?”

“You’re not sensitive,” Janna says. “There’s no need to say—”

But just then Sej lifts Janna up. Just then she bites Janna’s ear the same way she bites….other parts. Janna squirms. Her breath hitches. In the cold of the tent she suddenly feels very, very warm. She kicks her legs a bit; Sej holds tight.

And there it is. Another moan. Louder this time, unmistakeable. Sej draws away and kisses Janna’s forehead.

“Useful bit of information,” Sejuani says. “I think I shall have to get you more earrings in the future.”

Janna slips a hand beneath the hem of Sejuani’s trousers.

“You can if you’d like,” she says. “But remember you’re not the only tease here.”

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