The Elemental Triangles

Someone coming to witchcraft and Paganism for the first time will quickly encounter the most common representations of the material elements, the elemental triangles. source These symbols are representative of Air, Fire, Water and Earth, the four elements of manifestation which Greek philosophers posited were the underlying components of all creation. Combined, these four elements then create…

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i just posted but i feel INSANE hua cheng’s entire appearance in the ghost groom arc is just symbolism.

when xie lian is alone (having sent everyone away, in danger but perfectly capable of fighting his way out), hua cheng steps in front of xie lian, offers his hand, and guides xie lian through the woods to where he needs to be. monsters cower before him, magical barriers don’t stop him, he steps on the skulls of enemies and crushes them so thoroughly that xie lian behind him feels like he is walking on flat ground. he doesn’t just swoop in without asking — he offers his hand, and waits, and xie lian willingly reaches out and lets himself be guided. and his grip is featherlight, even as he steers xie lian through danger and darkness. his blood rain warns away all who would dare harm them, but xie lian doesn’t get hit by a drop. and hua cheng does this all in his true form, not in disguise, because he’s not playing a character or trying to achieve anything, this is just him. despite not being confident enough to face xie lian directly, hua cheng has already shown him exactly who he is.

(now excuse me while i gnaw through an entire wall because how was this not glaringly obvious to me all along)

I read a little about yakuza & mafia customs 😋 is ot accurate? No idea, but, consider; hehe.

Thinking about spellcasters where the gesture component is sign language

Fellow morms

Recently, a loved one of a person dear to me passed away, but they are not of our community.

Has it ever happened to you and did you prepare funeral potatoes for them? Or do you happen to know if gifting food in time of grief is generally well received outside of our community?

Serious question

me at 15 reading about ocd on the internet: oh that sounds like a nightmare I don't think I could live like that, so glad I definitely don't have it

me getting diagnosed 7 years later:

I watched an mdzs animatic with a song from wicked, and something in my mind finally clicked and now I want to scream about how similar my current and my past hyperfixations are.

"Good news, the witch is dead!" like

"No good deeds" is such a "character pushed to their limits" song. Imagine it before the nightless city. The first scream, as Wen Ning and Wen Qing walk away. The chanting as he lies there, unable to move, praying for them to be well. Memories of people he loves: Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, Lan Zhan, the Wen siblings.

"Was I really seeking good, or just seeking attention?" -- as he looks at the burial mounds and leaves.

"If I cannot succeed, Fiero, saving you, I promise no good deed will I attempt to do again." -- as he learns about Wen Qing and Wen Ning's death.

Ending with him arriving at Nightless city and pulling out the flute.

I want to see it animated so much!

My skills are so annoyingly not up to the task. Maybe if my hyperfixation survives long enough that I learn drawing and animating things well? It'll be the third mdzs animatic I really wish to do one day. Maybe one day.

nothing funnier to me than casters who use a focus refusing to acknowledge that their casting style descends from ancient ritual dance-based magic. awww, you don't wanna think of your silly little wand as a magic dance prop? don't wanna think of yourself as a ritual caster? too bad. maybe stop looking down on the magic users who came before you and get down with a funky jig or two

Fucked up realizing that Balthazar would perfectly chart when Aylin was going to die of dehydration so he could harvest body parts at peak “health” when she resurrected.

need to catch up on yellowjackets specifically so i can make a post that intersperses screenshots from it with my favorite poem bc i just realized soooo many of the lines fit with the yj girls' whole deals

this is Such an ella dialogue option. little athiest jotting this down in his journal as evidence that he's right about gods

its a fandom joke that marion is homophobic, frankly it's funnier if she's a gaybie and just asks what the fuck is wrong with francis, no, actually not that he's gay, i have eyes

bad work shifts are so weird it’s like oh i should be fired. but also they should pay me 1 billion dollars an hour

How do you need to be loved?

tagged by: @liibertysdream !! thanks annika !! tagging: all of you, but also @amethystarrows, @winterled, @redheadarcher, @ironxlegacy, @thanatologies, @shootsxruns, @biitchcakes, @monmuses, @mr-tony-stark (tag all the dash besties)

DEEPLY, LIKE THE VASTNESS OF THE SEA. You are a very passionate person. You feel everything so intensely, and that definitely includes love. You need someone who will match that passion, that intensity. You need someone who will care about you as much as you care about them, but you have a hard time finding that. You're usually the one who loves more, and it's sad sometimes, but it's okay. But you will find someone who loves you just as much as you love them.

CASUALLY, THE SAME WAY YOU LOVE TO BREATHE. You want someone who will see your favorite flower and will give it to you, without even thinking about it. You want someone who will remember all the little details about you, the things so seemingly unimportant but that matter more than you thought they did. You want someone who will still be there, thirty years down the line, holding your hand while the two of you do two separate things. You want the intimacy of being known by someone who makes you feel safe. You don't want expensive dinners or grand proposals. You want someone who will love you consistently.

CASUALLY, THE SAME WAY YOU LOVE TO BREATHE. You want someone who will see your favorite flower and will give it to you, without even thinking about it. You want someone who will remember all the little details about you, the things so seemingly unimportant but that matter more than you thought they did. You want someone who will still be there, thirty years down the line, holding your hand while the two of you do two separate things. You want the intimacy of being known by someone who makes you feel safe. You don't want expensive dinners or grand proposals. You want someone who will love you consistently.

RECKLESSLY, LIKE A HORSE RUNNING AS FAST AS HE CAN. You've been told that the way you love can never last, and that heartbreak is inevitable. But you don't want to love carefully. You want to love with reckless abandon. You want to love with everything you have, and you want to be loved the same way. You don't want them to worry about tomorrow. Make today worth living for.

Bottled a few years before Beth breathed into existence, the Chave Hermitage Blanc is a tiny ocean of golden hues, waves cresting and breaking time with each swirl of Lawrence’s glass. Barely a competition against the constellation of Manhattan at night, halogen lights twinkling through the panes of his own corporate monolith. A machine he only visits on occasion these, and tinkers with even less, letting the churn of worker bees buzz under Mary’s guidance and leaving him free for more interesting pursuits. It is, still, suitable enough for this specific parley.

“As I’m sure you are aware by now, many of those with power and affluence seek the obscene and the taboo to evoke any sense of excitement.” He takes note of the wine’s bouquet without tasting it. “I’m aware of one who spends a large chunk of his inheritance bribing women to allow him to be the one to ‘deflower’ her – his prosaic term, not mine. Not that I am suggesting you make his acquaintance, Beth. You need neither the money nor the tedium involved.”

Lawrence lounges upon an over-stuffed seat, one ankle to knee, the black of his suit only a handful of shades darker than the leather beneath. “I mention him because he puts great value on the concept of virginity. The motif of the value of virgin blood is hardly new, and yet, I am curious as to if there is any true merit to it. Some say virginity is a construct.” The flash of white teeth might be paired with a joke, if coming from any other man. “So, I come to the expert for the truth, before I start locking the young and innocent away to keep a ready supply on hand.”

~*~

A Will and a Way || -

She really wishes she could say his taste in wine is trash, but to do so would make a liar out of her, and he'd call her on the carpet for it. Her curiosity at his casual invitation unto his kingdom is enough for her to venture out once the sun has set much to the annoyance of her sibling for not telling him anything more than she's taking the car into the city and not to wait up for her. Now she's perched a hip against the edge of his desk, watching not his face but rather the motion of his wrist, the angle at which he holds the glass, and breathes in its aroma from her own glass. She has no fear that he will have any cause to poison her, not when all the things he wants most are so readily available to his reach in and with her. Even if he was feeling those particular oats, her body would filter out any potentially lethal toxicity from her blood, and she has a bezoar in her grove, along with enough amethyst to flood 5th Avenue. He'd be better off making good on his once-threat of throttling her, or expunging his innate rage by laying hands on her. He won't. Not when she can see the question burning in the coldfire of his gaze.

His preamble draws a look of sheer disgust from the delicacy of her features and she sets the glass down beside her, equally untouched. In the world he speaks of, many of her sisters and aunties, her countless mothers and daughters, even cousins ~both in the dream of shared Kinship and stranger alike~ find themselves in a place of no power. It was not always like this but the rise of Reason was also the turning away from equality; in a rush to fill the vacuum people like the one he tells her about rose from the mud and the dark and beat fists upon their chests. And then turned that violence on the life-givers, the wise-women. It makes her sick but she doesn't blame the women who must be so desperate to need the unknown stranger's money, attention, or whatever else he provides for their validation and continuing survival. She needs to know the man's name, though she can likely suss it out on her own with a little determination. A pack of her more militant female cousins would see it as a gesture of good will between Tribe and Tradition. She also makes absolutely certain that her face doesn't betray a single lick of dark humour.

She honestly cannot imagine Lawrence....deflowering any one. She inclines her head at his surprising gentility regarding what she may or may not need, and for once she lets it go without biting instinctively back, asking if he's got plans for what she may or may not have. Which she does, even now. Ah, and there it is. His gaze still burns, but his is the light of Diogenes. For the sake of clarity she sets aside her natural speech patterns, reaching rather for his or some reasonable facsimile. "Blood has always been a sacred thing, a liminal matter. It could empower or pollute, restore health or waste corporeal and spiritual existence. It was the Divine Mystery in the mortal creation. For a very long time, those of us who were Awakened, understood this bond and this responsibility. Even before my Tradition took it on as a formal responsibility, we traced the progeny of our forebearers, for in blood there was always power."

Her eyes see beyond him and beyond his glass, something deeply bitter that goes hand in hand with her magicksplaining. "A splinter group broke off and formed...the Hippocratic Circle and they were largely the ones who ruined it for the rest of us. Through them the world came to see that male blood and bleeding was a public experience, connected to heroism, lineage in familial relationships, and to sacrificial practices, while female bleeding is a private matter and that women's blood while connected with parturition and life, should be feared for its polluting qualities. "But that wasn't your question. Your question is specifically about virgins. And the only answer I have for you is...I don't know. Depends on what you or I or anyone else deeply believes. It isn't lip-service level, either. It comes down to what you know in your soul. I use my own blood in rituals, of course. And others, when the need arises. My Tradition knows and uses blood the most, be it animal or human. Some people believe virginity conveys purity, virtuousness. A sort of appeal to the Unseen forces in any mysticism. They might value it more highly than perhaps I would."

She pushes herself off the edge of the desk and pads barefoot toward him. She rakes him from head to toe with a particular sort of gaze; part feral and part threat, part oddly affectionate. Then, she smiles and only the darker aspects of her nature remain. "If you ever require virgin blood for any reason, just ask for it. A lot safer an’ easier for everyone really.” She then hunkers down into a vague sort of squat, until she can look up into his face. It is a look too keenly like her Cousins to be comfortable.  “Now, Larry, be a dear and tell me more about this...ah...friend....of yours.”

Only real couples be sleeping ass to ass and rubbing feet like crickets