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[certaincruelty]

JHIN &OTHER CONCEPTS BY JASON CHAN ON ARTSTATION!!!!

@unforjhinately !!!!

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Continued from here. 

    Plumes of colour ascended from the ranks of soldiers, their cries commingling into a glorious, cacophonic dissonance. He stood before the countless men with confidence, eyes closed as he lost himself in the sound. Their agony inspired him. He thrived off of it. This was why he performed. Jhin paid no mind to the one interrogating him, taking his time in appreciating his work.

    When at last he was amply satisfied, the artist turned to the one who seemed to be leading the charge - and directly into a trap. Jhin stood before her almost as a spectre; pale cream cloak and bone-white ivory mask blending into the frozen landscape. When he spoke, his breath was caught behind his mask, making him seem nearly impervious to the cold. “ Have I not made it obvious ? “ Though his voice was low, it commanded attention. “ I want to put on a show, with you as the star. Have you never wanted to experience that rush of victory, bathed in glory, under the watchful gazes of your soldiers ? “ He bowed. “ I magnanimously bestow my spotlight upon you. “

@frozen-sovereign

[certaincruelty]

antoine berjon (french, 1754-1843)

“fruit and flowers in a williow basket” ca. 1810

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“You are unbelievable.” -silxntmaven

MISCELLANEOUS / ANGST STARTER SENTENCES.

    “ You cannot fault me this, Sona, “ Jhin responded matter-of-factly, fingers rapping against his metallic cane. “ I told you that I needed to wait until it was perfect; when it felt right. We’ll get another chance. “ He could sense the other’s frustration as he took the bullets from Whisper’s cylinder and placed them back within the pouch that rested upon his hip. They were meant to be for the show, but it simply wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t that he was overdramatic - no, that was never possible. He was always only as dramatic as he needed to be. If the performance wasn’t perfect, then it would have been a waste of time anyway. 

    As he glanced back towards the etwahlist, Jhin could see her expression was unwavering. “ It would be beneficial for you to have more patience. Oftentimes I go months between shows, simply because the smallest thing is not quite right. As long as the audience is entranced by your music, there will always be another opportunity. “ He sounded sure of himself, likely because his mind had gone to the very same place as Sona’s in the past. He had no direction, no clear path. Until he did, and then he was heralded as a genius. 

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"Get off my stage you honkytonk stickman."

    “ Your stage ? “ A faux-hearty laugh is tugged from those ivory lips, all seriousness held within his visible eye. “ I think it is quite the contrary. The audience loves a show, and I can deliver. You, on the other hand... “ He looked the executioner up and down, as though silently critiquing his attire. “ You lack the style. Allow me to show you how it’s done. “ Without so much as even a moment of hesitation, Jhin withdrew his gun and pointed it towards Draven. “ My gun to your axe. I think it’s clear who shall triumph. “

[certaincruelty]

“i often looked at myself with furious discontent, which verged on loathing, and so i inwardly attributed the same feeling to everyone.” -amechanicalgirl

NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND

    “ To be secluded, alone one’s entire life, it is easy to see why one would only take their inner emotions and reflect it upon the kind who brought them forth into this world. “ His hand brushed against the ivory of the piano keys, sending the rustling sound of skin on bone off into the empty darkness of the abandoned theatre. 

    Jhin stopped abruptly at a key and tilted his head upwards towards the mechanical entity before him. “ I am all too familiar with what a dancer has to loathe about themselves. But do you not, and correct me if I am mistaken, possess the perfection and prowess of a flawless creation, one who can make no mistakes? “ He seemed to ponder his own question for a moment. “ But then I must ask, exactly what are you ? “

[certaincruelty]

Henlo,this is an indie-canon divergent Sona. If you would like to interact,please reblog this,and Sona will give you a hug.

[certaincruelty]

 “ They are puppets; I pull their strings, and then,

                                                   they D A N C E . “

HOME | ASK | RULES | THREAD TRACKER

[certaincruelty]

Helvi Juvonen, tr. by Anne Fried, from Bottom Ice: Poems; “The Offering,”

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Sparring/Training Sentence Starters

Requested by Anonymous

“Come on, then! Hit me!”

“Your stance is all wrong.”

“Am I doing this right?”

“I feel like I’ve been chewed up, spat out, and run over repeatedly.”

“Get down and give me 20!”

“How many miles/kilometers are we running?!”

“Hey! Watch where you’re swinging that!” 

“Nice punch! Now do it again!” 

“You won’t hurt me, I promise.” 

“My grip feels off…” 

“Have you ever used a(n) __ before?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“I think I’m going to feel that tomorrow.” 

“If you can lift me up, then you can lift these weights just fine.” 

“On a scale of one to ten, how much did that hurt?”

“Here, you put your feet like this…” 

“Relax. I’m trying to help.” 

“Can you teach me how to __?”

“God, we stink.” 

“Are you doing okay?” 

“Are you alright?” 

“If I do fifteen push-ups, can I be done for the day?” 

“Come on! Another round!” 

“You can win this time!”

“Work your angle a little more and you got it perfect!” 

“What are you doing up at this hour?” 

“Where did you get that bruise?” 

“Hey, no, stop. You’re going to break your fingers punching like that.”

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Thought-Provoking Headcanon Meme

Send a symbol and I’ll answer the question about my muse. (Or answer in character. Whatever works for you!)

⛔️ - How does your muse react to others breaking the law? If they would do it themselves, what is their reasoning? 🚑 - If your muse was the only person around and someone was injured, would they help? Would they have the experience needed? 💸 - What does your muse think of wealthy people? Do they resent them, or do they believe they earned what they have? 🆘 - What does your muse think of poor people? Do they think they’re a waste of space, or do they want to help them? 📩 - Does your muse prefer to physically write letters or send them online? What is their reasoning? 📢 - Does your muse have a loud personality or a quiet one? Do they enjoy being the center of attention, or would they rather watch and listen? 📊 - How does your muse feel about the state of the world? Could it be better? Could it be worse? 👨 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their father? Is it good, bad, or complicated? 👩 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their mother? Is it good, bad, or complicated? 👧 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their siblings? Who do they get along with best? 👶 - If they have any, what is your muse’s relationship like with their children? Do they feel like they’re a good parent? 👻 - Does your muse believe in an afterlife? What do they think it’s like? ⏰ - Does your muse feel like they need to do things quickly or do they take their time? ⌛️ - How often does your muse think about death? Do they think about it at all? 🔗 - What are your muse’s standards for meaningful relationships? How quickly do they form relationships like these? 🚹 - How would your muse react to losing their father? How would they cope? 🚺 - How would your muse react to losing their mother? How would they cope? 🚼 - How would your muse react to losing a child? How would they cope? 💧 - How would your muse react to losing a best friend? How would they cope? 💔 - How would your muse react to losing a romantic partner? How would they cope? 🐜 - How does your muse feel about animal lives? Do they treat them the same way they’d treat a person, or do they feel they’re inferior? 🌎 - Does your muse want to change the world? How would they go about it? 🎭 - How does your muse handle their emotions? Do they bottle them up or pour them out as soon as they start to feel? 💋 - How does your muse feel about people who cheat? Do they see a reason for it, or is it completely immoral? 🌠 - Would your muse make a wish on a star? If so, what would they wish for? 🎁 - Does your muse celebrate their birthday? If yes, how do they celebrate? If no, why not? 🍟 - How does your muse feel about their body? Would they change it if they could? 💅 - How does your muse feel about gender roles? Do they conform to them, or do they play by their own rules? 🌺 - Does your muse have a favorite flower? Why do they like it?

[certaincruelty]

choke - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

[certaincruelty]

[certaincruelty]

Continued from here.

    “ Many things entice me, chain-warden, “ Jhin responded which an air that commanded respect. To have someone question his intentions was almost an insult. He searched the other’s features cautiously but with a stern expression, so as to gauge the direction of the conversation. “ Perhaps I do not like your tone, or perhaps the way your strut about so noisily with chain-links draped over your body. “ The artist looked him up and down, displeased. “ There is grace in death, but you seem to be lacking. Not altogether dead, it seems. “

@askthresh

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napoleon bonaparte - write an aesthetic paragraph / prose from your muse’s point of view, using first person and all.

IMPERIAL ASKS

    I am but an obedient servant to my own whims. When at first I set my eyes upon a target, they are a blank canvas; a masterpiece waiting to unfold. I know precisely how to make them beautiful. It is not a complex task, as many may think. My mind does the work for me setting the stage and blocking the movements of the actors. This was what I felt when I first set my eyes upon the maven of the strings - her cobalt hair reflected the sky above her, mirroring the heavens themselves. She was what one might have described as a jolie jouvencelle; quaint, modest, kind, and pure. A perfect target.

    Four times did I check that Whisper was loaded, each time counted the bullets held therewithin. I rested my right hand on my hip, getting a good look at the woman in front of me. The background faded as a spotlight shone above her head. Porcelain skin was drained of colour as she set her glittering eyes upon me. Fear. What a way to start a show. Before I even began, colours bloomed around her graceful figure, scattering petals at her feet. “ The audience loves you already, and you have not yet performed. Perhaps they will even want an encore, if you do well, “ I noted, raising Whisper and cocking my head to the side.

    Sona said nothing - but then again, how could she have? It was not as though she needed those words, whatever they may have been. Nothing would stop me from helping her to become a masterpiece, leaving my name in history as one to be remembered and fear. The patron saint of art, and death. Many times before had I mused upon how intertwined the pair were, but only rarely incorporated in tandem. It is a shame, as they make such a lovely duet. Almost as lovely as myself and the maven had been in that moment. 

    I fired the first bullet, the bang ringing in my ears and Whisper’s kick sending a shockwave up my arm.  My shoulder seemed to grind against the socket, a sharp pain running down my back. It never gets easier, but oh, is the satisfaction worth it. A silent cry was wrought from Sona’s lips as she sank to her knees, the bullet connecting with her flesh to create a gorgeous display of flowing water. Luminescent mist rose from the wound, dissipating into phantasms of songbirds. “ Sing little lark, sing! “ I demanded, unloading another bullet into her. 

    The force of the second shot made her collapse fully to the ground, the bullet having been lodged in her abdomen. No vitals had yet been damaged, no heavy bleeding from what I could see. She would live for another two shots. Then, she would be perfect. The final two were more difficult than the first; as she gazed up at me with eyes reddened and cheeks glistening with tears, my shoulder felt somewhat more painful than it usually did. I wondered if, for a brief moment, I was going too far. The last thing that I wanted to do was complete a performance that would cause me lasting damage and impact my ability to do so in the future, but I pressed on.

    At last, Whisper’s last bullet was loaded, and I pressed the warm barrel against her forehead. Sona was emotionless, empty. But she was beautiful. Where blood spilt, shimmering rubies fell, clattering to the floor in a pile of untold riches only to melt away in the serene waterfall that poured from her chest. The scene almost took me away to a distant Ionian rainforest, calm and quiet, with nothing but the chattering of wild animals and the soothing gush of running water. It was time for the finale.

    The last bullet made me ache, and I nearly wept with joy at the beauty of my piece. Exhausted and drained, I sank to my knees as Sona first did. I felt pride well up within me as I observed what was no doubt my finest work, holding the maven’s limp body in my embrace. I could still feel the warmth of her skin, as it slowly drained away in my hands. The lingering display of beauty was for the common-folk to see after my audience had observed. I knew that what I had done on that night would resound throughout Runeterra for many years, and still to this day do I revel in the sheer grace and magnificence of it.

@magiccharmer

[certaincruelty]

“✏️”

SEND “✏️” FOR MY MUSE TO TRY DRAWING YOURS 

    “ What does a man do with the gift of immortality? Squander it, of course. One can’t fault him - after all, he barely recognises the gift bestowed upon him. Centuries of living, only to develop into a tragedy with poor taste in hairstyles. ”

[certaincruelty]

one quote//four lockscreens - the song of achilles

please like if you use please do not repost or delete the caption.