#effulgence clothing

[thegildedcentury]

Time, March 17, 1941

[talonabraxas]

Atu II - The High Priestess Talon Abraxas

The card refers to the Moon. The Moon (being the general feminine symbol, the symbol of the second order corresponding to the Sun as the Yoni does to the Lingam) is universal, and goes from the highest to the lowest. It is a symbol which will recur frequently in these hieroglyphs. But in the earlier Trumps the concern is with Nature above the Abyss; the High Priestess is the first card which connects the Supernal Triad with the Hexad; and her path, as shown in the diagram, makes a direct connection between the Father in his highest aspect, and the Son in his most perfect manifestation. This path is in exact balance in the middle pillar. There is here, therefore, the purest and most exalted conception of the Moon. (At the other end of the scale is Atu XVIII, q.v.)

The card represents the most spiritual form of Isis the Eternal Virgin; the Artemis of the Greeks. She is clothed only in the luminous veil of light. It is important for high initiation to regard Light not as the perfect manifestation of the Eternal Spirit, but rather as the veil which hides that Spirit It does so all the more effectively because of its incomparably dazzling brilliance.

[The tradition of the best schools of Hindu mysticism has a precise parallelism. The final obstacle to full Enlightenment is exactly this Vision of Formless Effulgence].

Thus she is light and the body of light. She is the truth behind the veil of light. She is the soul of light. Upon her knees is the bow of Artemis, which is also a musical instrument, for she is huntress, and hunts by enchantment.

Now, regard this idea as from behind the Veil of Light, the third Veil of the original Nothing. This light is the menstruum of manifestation, the goddess Nuith, the possibility of Form. This first and most spiritual manifestation of the feminine takes to itself a masculine correlative, by formulating in itself any geometrical point from which to contemplate possibility. This virginal goddess is then potentially the goddess of fertility. She is the idea behind all form; as soon as the influence of the triad descends below the Abyss, there is the completion of concrete idea.

The following chapter of the Book of Lies (falsely so-called), may assist the student to understand this doctrine by dint of meditation:

DUST DEVILS

In the Wind of the mind arises the turbulence called I.

It breaks; down shower the barren thoughts.

All life is choked.

This desert is the Abyss wherein is the Universe.

The Stars are but thistles in that waste.

Yet this desert is but one spot accurséd in a world of bliss. Now and again Travellers cross the desert; they come from the Great Sea, and to the Great Sea they go.

And as they go they spill water; one day they will irrigate the desert, till it flower.

See! Five footprints of a Camel! V.V.V.V.V.

[steviestits]

I Move the Stars For No One - Part 1.2

Written for a prompt dmed to me, which can be read in its entirety on this fic’s masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T (E for later chapters) Summary: After running away from home after an argument with his father, Steve storms off into the woods only to accidentally stumble into the unseelie king's lavish party. The king, Eddie as he likes to be called, is taken by Steve and dances through the night with him. Though Steve enjoys himself, he feels the need to return to the mortal realm, but soon learns that he can't as he has become property of the king after trespassing on a sacred fairy circle. Steve is forced to stay and begins to learn that all is not as it seems, especially in regards to his own past. (Labyrinth inspired story but they share zero plot points.) Trigger Warning: None for this chapter Eventual Trigger Warning: Feminization, Mating Rituals, Heats/Ruts but not the Omegaverse kind

(Link to previous part)

Startled at the sudden question, Steve looked down at his hand within Eddie’s then up at all the masked revelers around them. Though their faces were hidden, the sharp daggers of jealously still stabbed through the air, creating an atmosphere rife with contempt. Steve couldn’t stop himself from squirming a bit under the negative attention, before he carefully pulled his hand away, not wishing to draw anymore ire from the crowd.

“I’d love to, but I’m not dressed for it,” Steve said, motioning down at his plain clothes.

Eddie chuckled, “Is that all?” then snapped his fingers. A bright light surrounded Steve, engulfing him in an effulgent aura of magic, and silver sparks danced across his body, slowly transforming the clothes Steve wore into a flowing, white gown while silver-stringed ornaments wound through his hair while matching jewels appeared on his ears and neck. He also gained a pair of silver heels, though the height of the heels weren’t too high, so Steve found that he was able to keep his balance despite never wearing a pair before now.

“My dad would kill me if he saw me in this,” Steve muttered.

To which Eddie replied, “Is he here?”

“What?”

“Your dad, is here right now?”

Shaking his head, Steve said, “No, he’s not.”

“Then it should be fine. It feels right, doesn’t it? Like this is where you belong?”

Steve opened his mouth to refute Eddie’s statement but closed it when he realize that what the fae king said rung true. For the first time in a long time, Steve felt comfortable with himself. He didn’t feel like he was trying to fit into a mold of his father’s creation. The more Steve thought on it, the more natural it felt. Part of him worried that it was some kind of magic making him believe all this, but for some reason, the rest of him honestly didn’t think this was the case.

“I guess it does,” he admitted eventually.

“Then you have no other objections to sharing this dance with me?”

“But I don’t have a mask.”

“Stevie, your beauty is unparalleled. It would be a crime to hide it with a mask. I want to see it while I dance with you.”

Blush colored Steve’s cheeks, and he replied, “Then can I see your face, too?”

As a reply, Eddie reached up and took the wolf mask off his face, revealing dazzling features and a pair of dimples that made Steve’s heart flutter. He then took Steve’s hand, and despite the glares that were still aimed at him, Steve allowed Eddie to lead him out onto the dance floor as a new song started to be played by unseen musicians. The ball became lively again as the crowd swayed to the harmonious melody surrounding them. None of that mattered, however, as Steve was drawn into Eddie’s presence, unable to look away from the fae king.

Eddie began to lead Steve through the dance, never taking his gaze off Steve for a second. The outside world faded away until it was as if they were the only two in the ballroom, maybe even the whole universe. Steve didn’t care that he had to follow Eddie’s lead as they spun and twirled along the dance floor. He could hear his father’s voice chiding him, telling him that he was supposed to be the one leading the dance, not following like a girl. His father seemed so far away now, though, his words barely a buzz in Steve’s ear.

The song continued, enchanting Steve in the magic of the moment. He never wanted the dance to end, because he felt safe within Eddie’s arms. Steve had only just met the fae king, but he strangely felt as if he belonged here with him, and as long as the music played, Steve would continue to exist nowhere else except within Eddie’s company.

Unfortunately, the song did eventually come to an end, and when it did, Steve drew away from Eddie, even though their eyes remained locked. He’d never met anyone who commanded the room like Eddie did, not even Steve’s father could carry himself with so much confidence that everyone else in the room was forced to pay attention to the fae king. That’s why Steve was still shocked that the other had come up to him and chose to dance with him through most of the night, that he saw Steve as special enough to warrant his time.

Steve didn’t want leave, didn’t want to go back to where he was seen as a useless failure, back to where he wasn’t seen as beautiful by a handsome fae king, but he knew that he had to get back to his home. His dad would chew him out if he was late, which he’d been doing more since Steve turned eighteen. Sometimes, it felt as if all Steve had to do was breathe to set his dad off on him about how much of a screw-up Steve was and how he hadn’t lived up to their expectations at all. So, even though Steve wanted to stay with Eddie, he didn’t want to incur his dad’s wrath any more than he already had by merely existing.

It was then with a heavy heart that he broke eye contact with the fae king and took a step back. At least he tried to, but Eddie caught Steve by the wrist to hold him in place. The grip of the fae king was stronger than Steve expected, effectively preventing Steve from leaving as he wanted. Steve tried to struggle free, but he found he was unable to budge the hand even an inch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie asked domineeringly.

“I’m heading home,” Steve said, still struggling a bit in the tight grip. “I’m sure my parents are worried about me.”

The fae king snorted in amusement. “You are home. This is where the fae belong.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, but I’m not fae. I stumbled into a fairy circle on accident. I’m human. I’m from the human world.”

“Sweetheart, even if you were human, once someone enters the fae realm, they can’t leave. They become property of the fae king, which is me.”

“Eddie, it’s been fun, but I really do have to go. My dad will kill me if I don’t get home in time.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, because as I said, you’re my property. He can’t touch my property, which you are.”

Then with a wave of Eddie’s hand, a silver collar with a thin chain that matched the baubles that adorned his hair. Steve tugged at the collar, but it wouldn’t budge, and when he traced his fingers along the rim, he couldn’t find a clasp. It was as if the collar had been welded together, trapping Steve in it permanently. The chain then lengthened and wrapped around Eddie’s hand, clearly denoting his ownership.

“Until you learn,” Eddie said while giving the chain a tug, drawing Steve closer. “Because you’re mine, and no one else can have you.”

Part 1.1 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 1.3

[thereader-radhika]

Malayadhwaja Pandyan in Mahabharata

Pandya, who dwelt on the coast-land near the sea, came accompanied by troops of various kinds to Yudhishthira.

This Pandya king is addressed by two names in the epic - Malayadhwaja and Sarangadhwaja. 'Malaya' and 'Saranga' both mean "sandalwood" and the name is derived from the Tripuranthaka aspect of Shiva, who made Malaya mountains (named for the Sandal trees that grow on it) his yoke during the burning of the triple cities. He is a very fascinating character.

During Yuddhishtira's Rajasuya, Pandya and Chola monarchs brought gifts which were accepted, but they were not allowed inside.

And the Kings of Chola and Pandya, though they brought numberless jars of gold filled with fragrant sandal juice from the hills of Malaya, and loads of sandal and aloe wood from the Dardduras hills, and many gems of great brilliancy and fine cloths inlaid with gold, did not obtain permission (to enter).

Discrimination! Discrimination!

His country was annexed by Vrishnis at some point and his father was killed by Sri Krishna himself.

It was he [Krishna] that slew King Pandya by striking his breast against his . . .

He yearned for vengeance and trained under the renowned teachers of that era for that purpose. Even if he couldn't have killed Krishna, he was capable of causing great damage, as we can see later. But he listened to good counsel and gave up his revenge fantasies for the greater good. Very admirable indeed.

The mighty Sarangadhvaja . . . his country having been invaded and his kinsmen having fled, his father had been slain by Krishna in battle. Obtaining weapons then from Bhishma and Drona, Rama and Kripa, prince Sarangadhvaja became, in weapons, the equal of Rukmi and Karna and Arjuna and Achyuta. He then desired to destroy the city of Dvaraka and subjugate the whole world. Wise friends, however, from desire of doing him good, counselled him against that course. Giving up all thoughts of revenge, he is now ruling his own dominions.

One can even say that Malayadhwajan became a karmayogi before Krishna advised Gita to Arjunan, by not chasing personal glory and fighting selflessly for the people who were consistently bad to his clan.

Praised as "hardly inferior to Indra on the field of battle" and "followed when he fights by numberless warriors of great courage", Malayadhwajan led one of the 7 akshauhinis of the Pandava faction and fought valiantly until the 16th day of the battle. I don't understand what was he doing with those Pandavas who wouldn't let him or his father (I not sure about the timeline) enter the Rajasuya yajnasala.

On the 16th day, as he was destroying Karna's army which "began to turn round like the potter's wheel", Ashwatthama challenged him to one-to-one combat. When he fought Ashwatthama, Karna destroyed the army that surrounded him and Ashwatthama destroyed his chariot, as his arrows were unable to pierce the King himself. The epic says that Ashwatthama was quite excited by this fight and didn't slay Pandyan when he got an opening because he wanted to fight for some more time. Malayadhwajan climbed a stray elephant and threw lances at Ashwatthama who narrowly escaped with his beautiful crown shattered. This infuriated him and he killed the king, his elephant and the final six warriors that followed their Lord.

At this, Ashvatthama blazed up with exceeding rage . . . and took up four and ten shafts capable of inflicting great pain upon foes. . . with three the two arms and the head of the king, and with six he slew the six mighty car-warriors, endued with great effulgence, that followed king Pandya . . .

@celestesinsight @willkatfanfromasia @sambaridli @harinishivaa @sakhiiii @whippersnappersbookworm @favcolourrvibgior @sampigehoovu @ambidextrousarcher

[thepunkmuppet]

guys do you ever just my soul is wrapped in harsh repose, midnight descends in raven-coloured clothes, but soft… behold! a sunlight beam, cutting a swath of glimmering gleam, my heart expands, ‘tis grown a bulge in it, inspired by your beauty, effulgent

[wordsvomit101]

4. Braids

(5 months after the death of Mr and Mrs Lee)

"What a mess", As Minhyeok entered Raon's bedroom, he was taken aback by the chaos that greeted him. Clothes were scattered all over the place, the bed was unmade and littered with comics and mangas, and the desk was piled high with books and various devices. The air hung heavy with the stale scent of junk food and unwashed laundry.

It had only been a few days since he last went to her room to help her tidy it up, but it was still a mystery to him how Raon could manage this in such a short amount of time. He knew that Raon was a messy person, but this was concerning.

She used to make an effort to keep her surroundings moderately organized, not much, but there was some form of order in it. However, it took a nosedive for the past months.

He sympathizes with her because he knows how long and draining their days at school can be, leaving her feeling overwhelmed and stressed. Understandably, she doesn't have the energy to clean up after herself.

Minhyeok couldn't help but release a soft sigh as he gazed upon the lump lying on the bed, shrouded by a thick blanket.

"At least she let me into the room"

He still remembers a few instances when he tried to get her downstairs to take a break outside or accidentally said something hurtful, and she kicked him out. He almost cried when she looked at him with more anger than he had ever seen on her face.

At first, he didn't understand why she was so angry, but after his brother scolded him, it was almost shameful how he didn't realize his mistake. Anyone would be upset if they were told to "just get over it".

He spent several days attempting to make amends with her, offering her snacks and suggesting video game nights. Eventually, she forgave him but didn't hesitate to remind him of his mistake from time to time. 

"It will get uncomfortable in here soon if she lets it be"

He walked over to the bed and sat down, shaking the lump gently. "Raon," he said, "you really need to clean your room"

He tried to wake her up again, but she wouldn't budge. So, he walked over to the windows and opened the curtains and windows.

In the languid embrace of a spring afternoon, the air shimmered with a golden effulgence, casting a glow upon the verdant landscape. The sun shines brightly upon the budding trees and flowers. The sky is a clear blue, with fluffy white clouds dotting the horizon. 

"Maybe I should try out calligraphy and writing poems next time"

He turned around when he heard a rustling sound from the bed. He didn't mind the annoyed look she gave him and instead focused on the condition of her hair.

At its best, it was a tangled mess and at its worst, it was riddled with grime as if it hadn't been shampooed in days. It would probably start to smell sooner or later. However, he hadn't noticed it because he had been busy practicing to prepare for the school's Sports Day next month and getting extra help for his English after school hours this week.

"I'm failing again...", it was a suffocating feeling.

... Now is not the time for it. As he approached her table to sort through the clutter with practice ease, he let a gentle smile play on his lips when he glanced at her.

"Good morning, glare at me all you want but go take a shower. I will clean this up, and also, wash your hair", as she was about to protest, he added with sad eyes, "Please?"

"..."

Raon clamped her mouth slowly and slowly looked away from him, signing out a heavy, "OK" before she got out of bed.

While Raon was enjoying a long bath, Minhyeok took the initiative to tidy up his friend's bedroom. He carefully made the bed, organized the scattered books, and hung up the clothes to prepare them for laundry. Next, he wiped down the messy table, removed the crumbs and empty water bottles, and replaced them with a clean placemat and a neatly organized set of writing supplies.

As Raon exited from the bathroom, her appearance had greatly improved from the sleepy morning. Her hair was newly washed, giving it a beautiful shine, and she dressed more comfortably.

She exuded an air of relaxation, having indulged in a long and warm shower. He smiled at her.

"Not so bad now is it?", which earned him a half-hearted pinch to his right arm as she sat on her chair in front of her mirror before asking him, "Do you know how to do braids?"

He discovered the hair dryer and answered, "Hm? A little, do you want me to braid your hair?". She always looks nice with braids, and it was clear that Mr. Lee never fails to make Raon feel and be as beautiful as she wishes. 

As Minhyeok gently runs the blow dryer through Raon's hair, she closes her eyes and leans back, savoring the sensation of his strong, yet delicate touch. 

"Yes, it doesn't have to look good, I just want to have braids for today"

He glances at her reflection in the mirror. Blank but relaxed, with heavy eyelids, and thoughts elsewhere.

"It doesn't seem like she wants to go anywhere today either, but this change of pace is good"

"Sure, give me a moment", she has a small grateful but pleased smile on her lips, like a cat that got the cream.

The warm air from the dryer envelops them both, creating a cocoon of comfort and… intimacy. The dryer creates a pleasant hum in the background, lulling Raon into a more calm state. 

Once he found her hair to be nicely dry, he took the comb Raon's gave him. Minhyeok gently ran the comb through Raon's silky strands, detangling each tress with care. 

The soft bristles glided effortlessly through her hair, creating a soothing rhythm. As he meticulously combed through her locks, his fingers expertly navigated the twists and turns of her hair, ensuring each strand fell perfectly in place. Raon sat still, her eyes closed in blissful relaxation, as the soft hum of their conversation mingled with the soothing rhythm of the braid being formed.

Once done, Raon gazed at her hair reflection in the mirror in awe. The intricate braids cascaded down her back like a waterfall of silk, each twist and turn done skillfully.

The delicate strands framed her face, accentuating her features and adding a touch of elegance to her appearance. As she turned from side to side, the braids caught the light, shimmering like spun gold in the afternoon sun. 

"Cute", is the only thought he has when looking at the girl below him, who is still busy looking at herself to notice his blush before her praise breaks him out of his trance.

"Are you sure you rarely do this? It looks amazing!", his heart skipped a beat as she excitedly looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly.

"...Come to me when you want to your braids from now on then, I will do it whenever you want"

[deersaints]

⤑ keith powers, 29, agender, they/them 𓇢𓆸 my my, if it isn't carnelian st. germain, my favorite witch in town. you know, though people say they can be rather overwrought and quixotic, i know they’re really effulgent and sedulous. but hey, what do i know? i’ve only known them for their entire life. if you need to get in touch, you can probably find them at their work as a manager & waiter at the rusty rail.

content warnings for... anxiety.

profile.

full name — carnelian laramie st. germain.

nickname(s) — carn; neil ( if you hate carn and want them to di– ); lars ( steven universe tease, only if you hate carn and want them to di– twice over ); laramoo ( mothers, affectionately; siblings, maliciously ); red.

place of birth — blackwater, colorado.

date of birth & age — june 30th, 1995, twenty9.

gender / pronouns — agender, they / them.

orientation — queer.

occupation — manager & waiter at the rusty rail, astrology bullshitter, tarot reader, amateur wizard ( virginal or not left to be seen, life school in wizards101 ), proud band member.

astrology — cancer sun, leo moon, libra ascending.

kind of being — witch.

abilities — spell - casting and potion brewing; communication with nature, minor healing. illusions and lunar - cycle based magic.

residence — a historical apartment in blue spruce commons; all creaking floorboards and rusted door hinges. used mostly to entertain and sleep. the ancient st. germain home in oldstone bend, time more often spent with family than on their own.

interests — punk and any variation of it, especially ska. any instrument involving blowing, strumming, or any variation of fondling. reading the daily horoscopes; shuffling tarot cards and pretending their word is law ( sometimes it is ). smoking in any capacity. crying during 80's power ballads. their family. the stars and all their constellations; moonlight. charging their crystals. landslide parties. camping, but only in groups of five. thrifting. hand - sewn clothing. cooking for others. curating mixtapes and playlists. native plants and animals to blackwater. underground raves. getting lost inside the woods. dungeons and dragons.

aversions — riding their bike into ditches and creeks for the 5th time that week. the come down after a particularly nice high. the color greige because it's fake and shouldn't exist. invasive species. the time they almost drowned in aforementioned creek. industry plants; both nuclear and hollywood. calling modern fans of punk "posers"; elitism. snobbery. their never - ending spiral of thoughts. seafood because they're too in land for it to be fresh ( usually ). not being listened to; their concerns being turned into mockery. thrill seeker behavior because they are not trying to die while white water rafting.

quirks — constantly drums their fingers against any surface present; whether it's a table or their own thigh. uses hand gestures often. bleaches their hair, lathers it in oil, then dyes it every week in a vicious cycle of damaged hair. accidentally ate selenite once; it wasn't a great time. cycles around instead of drives because it's better for the planet. curates playlists for every situation; including breakups. will send it to the person they're meant for.

most played — sound system by operation ivy.

notable features — more tattoos than bare skin; they seem to change everyday. charms sewn into every hemline, hanging from every piercing adorning nose and lip and brow.

general disposition — like they're about to shit themselves out of fear & excitement, maybe both. impossibly lanky for someone well - built.

character study — burton guster ( psych ) & seth cohen ( the o.c. ).

background.

the st. germains have lived in blackwater since the near - founding of the town; witchcraft born of the earth, their power was small but significant. once they made home in the mountains, the miner's luck increased; there were less animal attacks, better harvests. they've lived in the same house since the beginning; new sections built every year to accommodate their family's growth over the years.

somewhere in the 80's; their family grimoire - curated by their family for generations - was stolen by a rival family, an opposing coven. nothing more but a petty feud; the next generation of st. germains had to learn their magic from scratch.

anxiety; carnelian was born to that struggle, though their parents had made due with what was passed along via word and demonstration. their siblings - the lot of them - never seemed to struggle with their abilities. it came to them naturally, their specializations showing at a young age. carnelian was different; it wasn't so easy to them. their spells became laced with anxiety; tainted with it. things would go wrong; spell jars turning sour, fruit rotting off the trees.

while their magic was always weak - it strengthened considerably with the lunar cycle; the new moon was their enemy, but the full moon allowed them to channel it with relative ease. without the anxiety overpowering it. they began to practice in tandem with the moon, waning when it waned - waxing when it waxed. eventually, the stars begin to whisper down at them.

while their siblings are moving onto more ambitious things; ranging from recreating their family grimoire to getting it back from their rivals, to using their magic to help the community wherever they can - carnelian is talking to the stars. they guide their every decision; influence every magical decision. sometimes they feel like it's not the stars at all; but they push that feeling down. ignore it.

carnelian starts sleepwalking. it's subtle at first, waking up in different parts of the house. then outside. then across the street; then in the middle of the woods. each night it worsens until carnelian awakes atop a mountain, nothing but rocks beneath them.

they stop practicing magic after that; besides tarot cards and minor predictions, things that have no greater bearing - carnelian doesn't reach for the stars again. they want something from them - and they don't think it's something good.

details.

carnelian often feels like a magician more than anything else, reduced to cheap tricks and illusions to keep their magic at bay. anything else - and they overdo it, overwrought with anxiety. they're one of the weaker st. germains, and while it's never been a competition - there's that constant want to do more.

big on cleansing spells, good luck charms, crystals, the lot. their charms and trinkets are passed down, found from friends and lovers; hold weight to their meanings.

they will pick up any instrument handed to them with relative ease; has always been a natural musician, though they don't do much with the talent besides turn 80's synth pop classics into acoustic ballads. has cried during them before.

believes firmly in self medicating, prefers the feeling of melting into the backseat of a friend's van to the feeling of actually being present.

despite their friendliness and loyalty to their friends - carn is a natural skeptic. isn't quick to trust or believe others, but they're kind. always kind, always giving more of themselves than they should. the clothes off their own back kind of person.

carnelian is so nosy it's insane. purposefully seeks out information, if only just to hold it; doesn't spread rumors, or idly gossip - is a good secret keeper. they just like to know.

has a tendency to be self - righteous; thinks they know the best out of anyone, and can be a little arrogant in a way that isn't entirely annoying.

they're hopelessly idealistic, to the point where they're shit at advice. a big advocate of drop everything and follow your heart. they're indecisive themselves, often looking to their friends for guidance.

carnelian hates change, hates new things and new experiences. would prefer the same routine, the same life, over and over again. they don't cope well with loss, or shifts in their friendships.

[ramayantika]

The Cosmic Stage

High up in the sky when the night goddess takes her reign, there are a plethora of stars, their galaxies comprised coming together in patterns of circles and spirals. Where do they go? Where do they come from? Why do they come this way? Nobody knows.

You are asleep. The world is asleep. You think everybody is asleep, tucked in a comfortable bed and off to a lovely dream. Those dreams are a part of the dancing stars too. Alas, you are never awake to witness the magnificent spectacle.

There is an anticipating quietness around. Something is bound to happen in a moment. There. Did you hear the first beat of the damru? The Lord of Dance shall grace the stage, the God whose body is the whole universe. Adorned with the sparkling stars as his ornaments, the moon sits atop his hair, his effulgence blinds mortal eyes. As he dances, he takes up every thing every space that surrounds him, you and me. All sounds come from him. He speaks the universal language, connecting you and me. I bow to the dancing God in reverence. His performance transcends space and time, he is the dancer who creates, and also the dancer who destroys. May the bells at his feet provide the melodious sound of salvation. May his gaze provide ultimate bliss to a mere devotee like me.

What I see in my dreams -- is that true? What I see in front of me in waking state -- is that true?

I know I belong to the stars, the galaxies and the infinite darkness that surrounds this infinite space. The primordial sound of the Universe rings in my ears, and the drums have begun to beat.

I am dressed in colour of darkness. Black veil, black skirts but they gleam. Sparkles from the stars make this dress glitter. For a moment, I desire to never part from these clothes. Such is the attachment of human nature.

Whom do I dance for? I don't think I am 'me' anymore. Is this body mine? What am I? There is no one in form here, yet I feel the presence of many.

Does Time function here? How much time has passed since I have arrived here? Can mortals access this plane so easily?

By losing myself in this multitude of colours, these constellations, these galaxies, I think I have finally found myself. My breath heaves and I think I am reaching the end. The black silks have shed themselves off from this flesh. Now, I am what I was searching to be.

Taste of liberation is sweet. Moksha.

A thunderous applause deafens me. The spotlight is shining too bright on my eyes.

Om shanti shanti shanti hi

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩ •̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙ ✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

This is probably a mess idk. The last part was inspired from the Moksha item which is a part of the odissi repertoire and partly from some of my own realizations in these past 2-3 days

I wasn't even planning to mention Nataraja here, but something demanded in me to write this out. Maybe because, I was attracted to Nataraja since childhood in my dance classes.

But yeah this is it. I would write more about Moksha too someday soon

Tagging the sakhis: @swayamev @jessbeinme15 @ma-douce-souffrance @yehsahihai @aapki-pyaari-sakhi @lil-stark @pokemon-master-elita @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @pulihora @vedajananixx @navaratna

[revello-drive-1630]

I used AI to make a song with the lyrics from Spike's poem:

My soul is wrapped in harsh repose,

midnight descends in raven colored clothes,

but soft… behold!

A sunlight beam

cutting a swath of glimmering gleam.

My heart expands,

'tis grown a bulge in it,

Inspired by your beauty…

effulgent.

[sacredpit]

↳               ❛   are you asking me out on a date ??   ❜   From Jotaro … 😜

    sender :   @vialaviolenza      /     source :   prompted     /     status :   closed .

    many times had kakyoin envisioned his graduation   ━━━━   the sense of fulfillment as one chapter reaches its end   &   another begins ;   the glow of   conviction   emanating from his chest as he stands in the splendor of accomplishment among his peers ,   in the effulgence of his mother’s teary - eyed gaze   &   the rare expression of   pride   he has long desired from his father .   &   now that the day has arrived at last ,   he finds as much contentment in all of these things as he’d conceived these last three years ,   but what brings him the greatest sense of joy is one presence that had evaded his foresight until a fateful day two novembers ago .

it seems that jotaro has not left his side since then ,   or perhaps it is   he   that has been so closely adhered all this time ,   if it isn’t the work of some intangible force that holds them together in the same vein as what keeps the earth orbiting the sun .   either way ,   though kakyoin knows better than to take anything for granted ,   the stability   &   security that comes with feeling him there nigh on   always   cannot be matched by anything else he has ever experienced .   their shared moment of triumph in completing their secondary education is no different .   the praise   &   acknowledgment   &   congratulatory remarks are flashes of starlight in a darkening sky ,   but jotaro is the silvery moon that beckons the tide of kakyoin’s mood . 

after posing for an inordinate amount of photos for   both   of their mothers   (   holly - san had kept insisting they stand closer   &   closer together ,   almost like she knows ,   though kakyoin cannot imagine jotaro had revealed any details of their relationship to her   ━━━━   &   his own mother had been no better ,   teasingly remarking that they’ll thank her for capturing them this way many years into the future   ) ,   they had managed to slip away ,   finding a shred of privacy at the landing of the stone stairway where they’d first met .   as kakyoin gazes up toward the torii - like gate framing the summit of the hill ,   he silently revisits that moment their eyes met ,   though he’d been under the influence of an   external evil .   he’d been no part of himself at the time ,   but he thinks that something in his chest sparked at the sight of jotaro ,   a hint from the universe that his life was going to change forever .   he places a hand over his clothed core ,   the scar hidden beneath layers of fabric tingling in response to the intercepted touch .

jotaro’s words pull a humored smile from kakyoin ,   violet eyes rolling as he turns to face him .   his suggestion of the two of them straying even further from the crowd to get ice cream had mostly been made in passing ,   considering the balmy weather   &   the way their uniforms   ━━━━   which they are wearing for the last time   ━━━━   tend to trap heat .   it’s something they’ve done together before ,   &   though they will likely do it again without the routine of heading to   &   from school ,   kakyoin is a little too sentimental to abandon the chance to do it this way   one last time .

“   has it been a date for the past year ??   ”   he asks ,   a scarlet brow arching with interest .   “   you never outright said as much .   but some things don’t need to be said ,  i suppose .   ”   kakyoin turns away just as his smile starts to grow ,   but his dimpled cheek gives him away ,   a soft laugh barely audible over the slight crinkle of the paper holding the flowers his parents had given him ,   cradled in his arms with his ribbon - tied certificate .   slowly ,   he saunters his way up the stairs ,   cherry - red tresses flicked away with a strategic turn of his head as he casts a glance over his shoulder ,   a glimmer in his eye as he looks back at jotaro .

“   well ??   are you coming for our first   date   as high school graduates ,   or not ??   ”

[firespirited]

Jekyll and Hyde #10

endowed besides with excellent parts: not a dick reference, just good health

inclined by nature to industry: naturally hard working

imperious: same root as emperor but means arrogant

blazon: like blazing a post, proudly display

inveterately: from vetus = old, old habit

perennial: enduring (used for plants that come back each year nowadays)

man will be ultimately known for a mere polity of multifarious, incongruous and independent denizens: humans will be recognized as a mere organization/state of multiple, clashing, independent residents.

naked (possibility): slightest

fleshly vestment: flesh clothes

pavilion: big tent

burthen: old form of burden

effulgence: glow in context (radiance, brilliance)

immaterial tabernacle: spiritual temple (as in your body is a temple)

ebullition : latin for boiling

millrace: flowing water that powers a mill

fancy: imagination

a solution of the bonds of obligation: solution = dissolved

stature: height

express: precise

misgiving: distrust

the captives of Philippi: bible story of prisoners set free by an earthquake

doff: remove clothes or hat

parry: avoid (used in fencing)

pecuniary: latin for money

bestial avidity: latin for animal-like greed

chastisement: punishment

swart: same root as schwarz, dark, see also swarthy

feint: deception

babylonian finger on the wall: old testament reference

insensibility and insensate: apathy and lack of feeling

morally sane: moral insanity was an ancient way of thinking about what we might call anti social personality disorder aka sociopathy which remains a very contentious and disputed way of talking about causing great pain while being quite lucid.

screwed to the topmost peg: I feel like in context this is like “turned to the highest volume”

buttress: support on a building

terrors of the scaffold: fear of being hanged

capacious: large capacity, spacious

thrall to the gallows: servant to the hanging gallows

obsequious: relating to funerals (obsequies), overly dutiful

quail: flinch in fear

thoroughfare : main road

He smote her:  he hit her (past of smite)

re-indue: indue is latin for put on, he will wear Hyde again

[talonabraxas]

Atu II - The High Priestess Talon Abraxas

The card refers to the Moon. The Moon (being the general feminine symbol, the symbol of the second order corresponding to the Sun as the Yoni does to the Lingam) is universal, and goes from the highest to the lowest. It is a symbol which will recur frequently in these hieroglyphs. But in the earlier Trumps the concern is with Nature above the Abyss; the High Priestess is the first card which connects the Supernal Triad with the Hexad; and her path, as shown in the diagram, makes a direct connection between the Father in his highest aspect, and the Son in his most perfect manifestation. This path is in exact balance in the middle pillar. There is here, therefore, the purest and most exalted conception of the Moon. (At the other end of the scale is Atu XVIII, q.v.)

The card represents the most spiritual form of Isis the Eternal Virgin; the Artemis of the Greeks. She is clothed only in the luminous veil of light. It is important for high initiation to regard Light not as the perfect manifestation of the Eternal Spirit, but rather as the veil which hides that Spirit It does so all the more effectively because of its incomparably dazzling brilliance.

[The tradition of the best schools of Hindu mysticism has a precise parallelism. The final obstacle to full Enlightenment is exactly this Vision of Formless Effulgence].

Thus she is light and the body of light. She is the truth behind the veil of light. She is the soul of light. Upon her knees is the bow of Artemis, which is also a musical instrument, for she is huntress, and hunts by enchantment.

Now, regard this idea as from behind the Veil of Light, the third Veil of the original Nothing. This light is the menstruum of manifestation, the goddess Nuith, the possibility of Form. This first and most spiritual manifestation of the feminine takes to itself a masculine correlative, by formulating in itself any geometrical point from which to contemplate possibility. This virginal goddess is then potentially the goddess of fertility. She is the idea behind all form; as soon as the influence of the triad descends below the Abyss, there is the completion of concrete idea.

The following chapter of the Book of Lies (falsely so-called), may assist the student to understand this doctrine by dint of meditation:

DUST DEVILS In the Wind of the mind arises the turbulence called I. It breaks; down shower the barren thoughts. All life is choked. This desert is the Abyss wherein is the Universe. The Stars are but thistles in that waste. Yet this desert is but one spot accurséd in a world of bliss. Now and again Travellers cross the desert; they come from the Great Sea, and to the Great Sea they go. And as they go they spill water; one day they will irrigate the desert, till it flower. See! Five footprints of a Camel! V.V.V.V.V.

[lusterlacked]

Name: Tavhyr

Class: Fighter, Battle Master

Background: Folk Hero

Other Names:

Hyra (Close friends and family only)

The Effulgent

Gender: Woman, but like it's work clothes

Orientation: Bisexual

Age: 260

Place of Birth: Unknown, though most likely Menzoberranzan or Ched Nasad. Was born into service of a notable noble house in 1232 DR.

Family:

Birth Mother (Unknown)

Mother (Dead)

Father (presumed dead)

Maternal Grandmother (Dead)

Paternal Great-Grandmother (Alive)

Sister (Alive)

Species: Seladrine Drow

Notable Characteristics: Large facial burn scar, several older scars across knuckles, hairline scar (from hitting her head)

Backstory:

Hyra was the first daughter of an only son.

Despite being within a noble merchant house, there was little likelihood for Hyra to rise above her station and from a young age was promised instead to Lolth to train beneath the Clerics and become a holy warrior. It was a not so well kept secret that she was the child of an adulterous relationship.

Her sister was also believed to be a child born out of wedlock, but due to reasons unknown to Hyra, Kseniya gained the favor of both sides of the family after she was born, the favored child.

In 1252 there was an attack on their family leaving only herself, her sister, and their father alive. Their father was severely injured and never mentally recovered, and Hyra was wounded, nearly dying in the aftermath. Kseniya had made it through the ordeal unharmed, claiming to have hidden herself during the attack.

After that their great-grandmother graciously (her words) took them in. She made it clear that she was disappointed in her daughter's choice to only ever have the one child and that he, and his children were found lacking in her eyes.

Hyra was treated as and expected to act a staff member, only escaping house duties when she was following through on her training or tending specifically to her sister's needs.

She was given the name Hyra as she grew older by the staff. A Drow word for DIAMONDS, she proved resilient to the punishments for missteps and perceived slights against the Lady of the house as she began to service the house as a maid and eventually serving food.

After escaping the destruction of Maerimydra and Ched Nasad in 1372 DR Tavhyr and her sister fell back to Menzoberranzan with their noble house. When catching wind of yet another siege, Tavhyr gathered what staff members were brave enough to leave Menzoberranzan. Their noble house attempted to stop them, and in the fight Tavhyr detonated an experimental weapon that destroyed the estate.

She escaped with over 50 Seladrine Drown, Lothsworn defectors, and other individuals to the surface, her sister among them. She earned the title THE EFFULGENT among these individuals given her explosive exit from the Underdark.

She renamed herself Tavhyr upon reaching the surface, maintaining her true name for only those she was closest to. She and her sister carved out a life for themselves working as farmhands and mercenaries early on, eventually Hyra would join the Daggerford guard, working her way up to captain over the years.

She's served with the past three rulers of Daggerford, promoted towards the end of Pwyll "Greatshout" Daggerford's reign.

[femsolid]

I was called a retard, a liar, a terf, a toxic feminist, a racist, a hinduphobe, told to kill myself, told that I should shut the fuck up and that criticizing or laughing at religions is not to be permitted.

I'll only respond to the "liar" accusations here, the rest isn't worthy of any response.

This is the story of Krishna stealing women's clothes :

---

Sri Krishna is an unfathomable reservoir of steadiness and all other good qualities, yet He often displays a unique type of fickleness. Crouching down and casting a few furtive glances and a mischievous smile, Krishna adopted the mood of a thief and arrogantly snatched the gopis’ garments from the bank of the Yamuna. After hushing up His little friends, Krishna slung the gopis’ clothes over His shoulder and quickly climbed to the top of a kadamba tree. Sitting on a branch, Krishna glanced toward the gopis and listened to their chatter.

Upon coming out of the Yamuna and not seeing their clothes, the gopis exclaimed with surprise, “Who stole our clothes?” While arguing over the various possibilities, they looked fearfully here and there with their wide blue eyes that resembled the petals of a blue lotus.

Seeing their plight, Vrajendrakumara assumed a splendid aura of beauty as He sat on the kadamba tree. Then Vidagdha Krishna joked with the gopis in a sweet, clear voice soaked in a nectar unknown even to celestials. “I have stolen your sparkling pure garments just to enchant your minds and relish some pleasurable pastimes. Now you can come here one by one or all together to collect your clothes.”

The Vraja kanyas, with gleaming teeth and bashful faces, stood silently without yielding to Krishna’s demand. They were thinking that Krishna might not keep His promise to return their clothes. So they deliberately refused to answer for a long time, or even look toward the kadamba tree. Finally giving up their shyness, they gopis spoke in such a way to show their disgust with Krishna’s naughty behavior.

Mustering her courage, one gopi said, “O Krishna! Are You not the respectable son of the great king of Vrindavana who instructs everyone in proper behavior? Are You not the all-attractive ocean of good qualities full of waves of compassion? Are You not the personified bliss of Vrindavana, illuminating the eyes of everyone with Your effulgent limbs? Are You not learned in all sastras and weapons? Therefore, why are suddenly performing such an unjust and abominable act?”

Another gopi spoke up, “Why did You steal our splendid garments? Is this Your idea of fun? It will not bring You any good; but rather it will make You infamous. Now just follow the path of honor, play fair and return our clothes.”

Sri Krishna, touched by their humble entreaties, said, “When I said come and take your beautiful clothes, I was not telling a lie.”

The young unmarried girls were intensely eager to attain Krishna. Thus they felt they could no longer ignore the harsh demands of this rarely achieved person. However, inside themselves the gopis waged a war with the forces of shyness trying to hold them back, and the forces of desire pushing them forward.

The gopis could not move forward because the power of their moral character equaled that of their strong attraction to Krishna. Though saturated with Krishna prema, modesty subdued their ecstatic bliss. Glancing restlessly here and there from the corners of their eyes, the gopis came to the Yamuna’s bank with great difficulty. Due to shyness, they hid behind each other while trying to cover themselves from Krishna’s curious gaze.

Then Krishna said, “O sakhis! Why are you afraid of Me? Now stand in a straight line, come before Me, and exhibit your splendid beauty. If you do what I say, then easily you will get your clothes.”

The Vraja kumaris attentively listened to Krishna’s pleasing words. Overcome with feelings of love, respect and hesitation, each gopi slowly moved toward their beloved. While observing their state of embarrassment, Krishna relished the purity of the gopis’ prema. With their draped over His shoulder, Krishna smiled as He drank the nectar of their sweet loving faces.

The gopis lost all their apprehension after hearing Krishna’s clever and pleasing words. Thus overwhelmed with prema, the kumaris slowly rose out of the water to reveal the stunning beauty and unique elegance of their beautiful divine bodies. Casting aside their shyness, the gopis stood humbly before Krishna with their heads hanging down. As Krishna’s prema-filled heart melted, a nectarean smile perfumed His lips.

At that tender time, Sri Krishna said, “O Vraja abalas! You have greatly pleased Me, and I feel the utmost limit of love for you. Now take your clothes and dress yourselves. May you drown in the ocean of ecstasy according to your individual tastes of love.”

While saying this, Krishna extended His hand to give each gopi her respective clothes. Holding their shimmering dresses in their hands, the gopis appeared very beautiful like clusters of golden lotuses bedecked with flags.

Then Vrajendrakumara compassionately addressed the gopis, “I have performed this astonishing pastime just to increase your love for Me. By ordering you harshly, I tested the purity of your love. Being completely attracted and attached to Me, however, you submissively obeyed My beneficial orders. Thus I have manifested a permanent bond of love within your hearts.”

---

Ananda Vrindavana Campu - chapter 12

Fun fact! The god Vishnu is probably the most famous hindu god and, according to hindu texts, he would stalk women as they were bathing and then steal their clothes.

Only after the women begged him would he return their clothes and let them dress themselves and leave. Of course men made lots of art about this beautiful event.

It's funny how male gods act exactly like male humans isn't it? What lesson are hindu women supposed to take from this? Well the metropolitan museum has a perfectly good explanation: "Krishna, the mischievous Divine Cowherd, has stolen the clothes of the bathing gopis, who shiver with cold but also with delight in their devotion to their lord. This splendid allegory of spiritual love-" excuse me what? the splendid what? lol Krishna is Vishnu in case you're wondering, he's an avatar of Vishnu kind of like Jesus is the avatar of God etc. Anyway, the museum details: "it recounts his playful theft of the clothes of the female cowherds, the gopis, who had left their clothes on the Yamuna River bank while bathing. Krishna placed them high in the branches of a tree, in which he is seen perched, daring the gopis to venture from the water. Metaphorically, this story serves to convey the power of devotion, to stand vulnerable before one’s God, secure in the power of bhakti, the unquestioning devotion to one’s god." ah it's not a creepy story it's just like if you love god and you're a woman you need to show him your body and beg him for your clothes and stuff. Makes sense.

Still according to hinduism, humans were created by the god Brahma.

Brahma was a pervert "in love" with his own daughter, the goddess Śatarūpā. She tried to run from him so he grew several heads and arms to reach her no matter where she tried to hide. He grew four heads to look at her from every cardinal direction, she couldn't escape his gaze. He's a buddhist idol still represented with his 4 heads and arms for better stalking.

Fun facts all around... I love religions.

[mortallydeliciousbear]

Accepting Feminine Electrical Power: Carrying Peace Of Mind with Higher Heels and also Pantyhose

Introduction

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The Allure of Pantyhose: Why Are They Therefore Sexy?

Pantyhose have actually long been actually related to sensualism and also glamor. There is actually one thing without a doubt eye-catching about a girl wearing a pair of transparent stockings that effectively enrich her legs. But just what is it that creates pantyhose so sexy?

Sheer Elegance: The large cloth of pantyhose incorporates a factor of luxury to any sort of attire. It generates a sophisticated and also polished appeal that projects femininity.

The Power of Leg Wear: Improving Legs from Excellent to Great

Have you ever pondered how some ladies handle to have lower legs that appear exquisite, even without hrs invested at the gym? The secret lies in the power of hosiery. Right here's why:

Smooth and Even Skin Layer Tone: Pantyhose deliver a soft and also even skin tone, immediately offering the look of remarkable legs. This is actually particularly helpful for those along with uneven skin tone or small imperfections.

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[sasorikigai]

[ undress ] sender takes their time removing receiver's clothes piece by piece (canon!)

PROMPTS FOR THE ROMANCE OF HANDS & TOUCH || @hexsreality || accepting

[ undress ] sender takes their time removing receiver's clothes piece by piece

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || If Hanzo had a flower for every time he reminisced and contemplated about the past and what would have happened if Harumi and Satoshi were alive, he could walk through his garden forever. Shirai Ryu Fire Gardens' indescribable and otherworldly effulgence and splendor stretching forth all the Earthrealm and beyond. But the vines would wrap his legs, thorns would engrave their talons into his skin, turning his wounds septic. He could only sit with his name on it for so long, for the bench would grow scorching hot, even challenging the threshold of his perfected pyromancy. His skin would stick to the metal and all he could do is wallow. Then he would become so quick to be complacent, bending, morphing, and shrinking as the suffocating vines draw blood, and the echoing words would cauterize the wounds instantly.

Hanzo Hasashi is never bound to the past; that much he knows. He has long torn the vines off, for he has seen life even amidst the rigidity and harsh threat of death. Still, missing someone is not about the length of time he doesn't see them, but about the number of things he wants to still do with them. And this exists more as a feeling than a mere thought or emotion; on the days his heart cannot scream back, it metaphorically bleeds and aches. Perhaps falling back in love with someone else have been feeling like an act of betrayal, a grave and mortal sin in his eyes. But against whom? And why?

Hanzo has already suffered exorbitant trials and tribulations ever since he regained his life back. And in the maze of fate's design, his heart sought goodness and betterment ever since Grandmaster Hasashi's souls gradually entwined along with Wanda Maximoff's, bound together along love's sweetest chime. No lie compares to the absolute truth he recites through his vocalizations and body language, as he surrenders to this ruthless scheme of time. However precarious and unpredictable this universe may be (and the next), it did conspire for their two stars to align, and this ardent love is all he needs here and now.

He knows, he doesn't have to drop his walls and show Wanda the darkness buried deep inside him. His fathomless umber gaze may have been significantly mellowed to become the tender light that would breach the fog swirls that cloud the starry skies, as the day's composure melts as his silky raven hair drapes over his broad shoulders. In a yukata of simple elegance, his guise further accentuated by the now-descending gentle rain. There is no need for grandeur or exquisiteness, but the simpleness of a man who yearns to be revered in tender affection. And in this moment, complex emotions blend; a long awaited procrastination finding its end, as a subtle kind of sorrow coalesces with abundant anticipation.

"Sometimes I forget what it is like to be gently touched by the hands of love, caressed willfully with an appreciation that one oneself can see past. It is the passage of action both useless and paradoxical to the minds of sane, yet perfectly calculated to those drowning in a melancholic pool of depression," Hanzo believes that devotion rarely comes with rationality; for ratios were rarely a strong point and love itself was never supposed to hold an answer. Perhaps the shed armor discarded for the night was the very bits of himself left behind, everywhere and always, for he finds the most surprising pieces of the present and the past seamlessly melting to become one. His chest rises, with the gentle ebb and flow of his heartbeat as the last garment slides off his broad shoulders, revealing beaten copper imperfections of his skin. "Perhaps I was meant to live through vignettes of adjacent consciousness, as all the lives I could not live and realities that cannot be pass through me in this life." ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||