#rima staines

[ancestorsalive]

BABA YAGA Fiana Sidhe tells us, “Baba Yaga is a very misunderstood Goddess. She is not just the stereotypical wicked witch. She often appears as a frightening old hag, but can also appear as a beautiful woman who bestows gifts. She is wild and untamed but also can be kind and generous. Even in Her haggard form, Baba Yaga has many gifts to share. Baba Yaga is the old crone who guards The Waters of Life and Death. She is the White Lady of Death and Rebirth, and is also known as The Ancient Goddess of Old Bones. The old bones are symbolic of the things we cling to, but must finally let lie. When we experience a death, darkness, depression, or spiritual emptiness in our lives, we journey to Baba Yaga’s hut, where She washes new life into us. She collects our bones and pours the waters on them, while She sings and chants and causes us to be reborn. She destroys and then She resurrects. Baba Yaga symbolises the death of ignorance. She forces us to see our true, darkest selves, then She grants us a deep wisdom that we can attain by accepting the dark shadows within ourselves. We can only receive help from Baba Yaga by learning humility. Her gifts can destroy or enlighten us.” Sr. Dea Phoebe has this to say about Baba Yaga: “So, while She is certainly a dark Goddess, a death Goddess, and may even seem ‘wicked’ in ways, Baba Yaga is hardly the villain of Her stories. But also, Baba Yaga is not a nice, clean, civilised Goddess. In the story of Valalisa the Wise, triple Goddess imagery repeats throughout – in Valalisa and her doll’s white, red, and black clothing, (colours traditionally associated with the Maiden, Mother, and Crone,) in the repetition of threes throughout the story (three colors, three enemies in the stepfamily, three riders, three tasks, three questions, three pairs of hands) and in Valalisa, (the maiden beginning her journey), her mother (who has given Valalisa gifts to guide her), and of course, in Baba Yaga as the crone. As a denizen of the deep forest, Baba Yaga is the wild aspect of the psyche, what Dr Clarissa Pinkola Estés calls [in her book Women Who Run with the Wolves] the Wild Hag or the Wild Woman —not the gentle grandmother that bakes you cookies and tells you stories, but the stern grandmother that might just smack your rear with a spoon and tell you to smarten up! She is not pretty to look at, and she represents the deepest mysteries of death. No wonder she has a reputation of a scary old witch! When we work with Baba Yaga, when we take that path into the deep forest to face the mysteries of death and emerge with the light of wisdom, we also face the wild aspects of ourselves. They may not be pretty, they may have long stringy hair and iron teeth and a wild cackle, but they also hold mysteries our more civilised day-to-day selves never think upon. Baba Yaga is not tied by social norms and mores. She flies about in yet another symbol of transformation; She wipes away the signs of Her passing so you’re never sure if She’s really been there. She’s rude, She’s crude, and She lives in a hut that doesn’t have the manners to sit down and stay like we expect a house should—and you can bet She enjoys all of this. She is less concerned about what is civilized and polite than what is true. When you find yourself in need of true wisdom, when you find yourself being too nice, too polite in the face of ongoing boundary violations, when you find yourself stagnated by the expectations of others, it might just be time to retrieve your Wild Woman (or Man.) It might be time to brave the forest and meet Baba Yaga.” ♦️ How might you have courage, as Vasilisa did, to face the frightening depths of the dark forest? ♦️ What gifts can you find within yourself that will give you protection and guidance as you meet the dark goddess and learn from her? ~ Rebekah Myers ~ Fiana Sidhe, “Baba Yaga, The Bone Mother“ ~ Sr. Dea Phoebe, Order of Our Lady of Salt, “The Goddess and the Wheel: Baba Yaga – Wicked Witches and Wild Women“ Art: Rima Staines, Baba Yaga Rima Staines - Artist rimastaines.com

[chronivore]

Rima Staines

[sweetlittlevampire]

If you ever wondered what I imagine the visuals in Heart of Glass to be like...this is it.

Taken from chapter 15, which just dropped! I know many people wanted to see Wei Wuxian with Mama Lan's glass hairpin in his hair, so...here he is! I used some brushes to help me with the design of the windows; you can find the link to them in the replies to this post. They're by rL-brushes on deviantArt.

[laufire]

ooh can you tell me about beneath the foam 👀

gladly!

it's an original idea I started around... four years ago, I think? it's meant to be a novella, not reaching novel length, set in al-andalus (the time in history when the iberian peninsula was under muslim rule). the story focuses on Maryam and her two younger sisters, Yaminah and Rima. it's both about sea monsters (sirens) and the oppressive nature of their household, and how each sister navigates both.

I can't say more rn because this is one of the wips that's set for a remodel sooner or later. some things just aren't clicking for me anymore? I know some elements (those listed above) will be kept, but I'm moving a lot of pieces around.

I'll leave you an old excerpt, Because:

When she was a child, Maryam started daydreamed that their parents made her and her sisters the way a sculptor creates statues out of clay. As the eldest Maryam had been the unlucky first –a rushed, dangerously imperfect job. Their inexperienced hands left her with brittle bones, a slow tongue and a fickle mind, sorely lacking in virtues. She imagined them warned and determined to rectify their mistakes in their next attempts, pouring everything they had into it. Filling Yaminah with innate wisdom; steadfast kindness; quite strength. Getting then creative with Rima by gifting her with quick wit, an incomprehensible charm, and talented fingers perpetually stained with ink, capable of the most beautiful creations themselves. Maryam had been a tentative attempt at shaping a human being by two people with little idea or even the real will to do so. Her sisters, in their later arrival to the world, benefited from her misery and two seemingly, completely different sculptors.

ask me about my wips!

[arikakuku]

Skts + desi trans (MTF) Atsumu, transphobia & comfort

Kiyoomi knocked on the door, waiting for Atsumu to reply, but there was no answer in return!

Atsumu had asked him to wait outside; she was confused between two outfits she wanted to wear for her cousin's wedding, and Kiyoomi, who would tell her she looked like the most beautiful person even when she was wearing her old torn clothes, was the judge!

 

Kiyoomi had been waiting outside for more than half an hour, and with every passing minute, his tension was increasing. He knocked on the door again, calling out to her.

 

"Atsu? Baby, are you done?"

"Love? Are you okay?" He called out again, debating whether to break it. He heard the click of the door, and instead of Atsumu putting on a fashion show for him as she usually does, she ran towards her bed, hid under the blanket, and blew her nose, throwing out the tissue paper and screaming.

 

"Omiomi, I'll pick it up laterr, promise!"

 

Kiyoomi groaned, but this was not the time to get disgusted; Atsumu had a running nose, and the only reason she could have one was if she had cried! And Kiyoomi had promised himself never to see tears come in Atsumu's eyes; whoever had caused this should better be prepared; Kiyoomi would take Atsumu's revenge!

Atsumu's outfits were laid out perfectly, with jewellery still in their boxes, the makeup products untouched, and a half mehendi cone lying with stained tissue papers beside it!

 

Kiyoomi sat down besides Atsumu, gently caressing her arm and sliding the chocolate he found on the side table inside the blanket, hoping it would get her out, and it did!

 

Atsumu grins as she slowly comes out like a tortoise and gives Omi her prettiest smile. Kiyoomi's hand immediately went towards her face, wiping down the wetness from her cheek.

 

"Are you okay, darling?" He asked once Atsumu had finished eating. Atsumu looked hesitant but gave up once she saw the determination on his face. Kiyoomi was not going to give this up.

Sighing, Atsumu showed Kiyoomi her mehendi, stained hands.

 

"Well, I wanted to try some nice designs! Mehendi would look soo good with these outfits, so i decided to try, checked some YouTube videos- IN THAT THE LADY DOES IT SOO QUICKLY AND EASILY!! BUT- but when I went to try- well, it was a disaster, like, I can't even draw a straight linee!" Atsumu cried,

 

"When I was a kid, I always wanted to put mehendi on, but you know, no one would let me EXCEPT that one time Rima-

My cousin..... The BRIDE" Atsumu continued as Kiyoomi nodded, finally understanding.

 

"Now where was I-haa, except that one time Rima practised on my hand and told everyone that it was a tattoo art, I wanted to surprise her, with a similar design, but it's just too muchh" She sulked 

 

Kiyoomi chuckles as he gets up and searches for something.

 

"HEY! DON'T LAUGH AT ME ITS A VERY SERIOUS MATTER OMI!!" 

 

'Did you know, love? The 15-year-old Kiyoomi wanted to be a tattoo artist. He wanted Tattoos all over his body, small, big, large, tattoos of every size, with small intricate details that he was convinced no one else could ever do, so he practised, practised on paper, practised with pens with different kinds of pens, practised on his body till he was decent in it, so um, do you want me to channel that Kiyoomi? He will do some decent work!" he asks with a sweet smile, sitting back down.

 

Atsumu giggles as she nods her head and starts showing the design she wanted.

Kiyoomi paid attention to every little detail; all the flowers matched, and all the dots were perfectly aligned!

 

"You're giving some serious competition to the mehndi wali didi, Omi!" Atsumu giggles, poking his thigh with her toes.

 

"That mehendi wali dhidhi-"

"DI-DI"

"Yes, mehendi wali didi! She is no one in front of me!" Kiyoomi smirks

 

"But wait, why didn't you get your mehendi done from her, babe? I remember seeing you sitting over there!"

Atsumu goes quiet; she really didn't want to remember all that, but she knew Kiyoomi wouldn't let it go, so she made him give a promise.

 

First, you promise me you won't do anything!"

"Atsumu, what happened?'"

 

Fuck, he took her full name, NOT GOOD.

 

"Omi- first promise me! Otherwise, Im not going to tell you ANYTHING," she stressed.

 

"Atsumu-"

"NO! Promise me first!" She says, putting her palm forward.

 

Reluctantly, he promised, He can ask for forgiveness later!

 

"Okay so, so you know how she is, no?"

"Who?"

"Aunty, Rima- rima's mother, how she, well, quite literally outed me in front of everyone? I told you about her, no." Atsumu whispered

 

"Did she do anything?" Kiyoomi asked worriedly.

 

"Nothing special, she was doing what she normally does, telling everyone around her how I used to be such a 'nice boy, how I have spoiled the 'Khandan ki izzat' nonsense, how she doesn't want to involve my mom and Samu because of my 'influence' and other things. I usually take it, Omi, but then she started speaking badly about you, Ma, and Samu, and that was something I couldn't take, so I just got up and left. I really didn't want to create a scene; I know how important this is to Rima, and I wanted to be there for her, Omi! But I just couldn't!" Atsumu cried; she didn't want to, but the tears just started rolling down her face.

 

"You know, when I was a child, she was my favourite aunt! She would always buy me things! Would always take my side whenever I used to cause some trouble! Uhh who knew the one who loved me the 'most' would suddenly want me dead-"

 

"Atsumu, you know you don't have to tolerate this! I can book the next flight tickets and-"

 

"Omi, you promised!"

 

"But Atsu!"

 

"I want to stay, Omi! I want to stay for Ma, I want to stay for Samu, I want to stay for Rima! AND I WANT TO STAY FOR US! I don't want anyone to think of us- of me as someone different! I want everyone to know that they can't break me. I mean, it does hurt sometimes, but because of that, I have become stronger! NOW DONT CRY OMI-OMI." Atsumu squeals, wiping down the tears running down Kiyoomi's face!

 

"And ANYWAYS! This is the last function with Aunty; after Rima, only two people are left to get married: me and Samu, and I don't think we are going to call her! She put me through lots of trauma and gave Ma and Samu unnecessary tension! No one is going to call her! So now it's just a matter of bearing her for a few days!" She continues, giving him a small peck on the lips.

 

"Now Stop crying and finish the mehendi, Omi!" Otherwise, it will dry! And it will be a mess!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"And after this, you have to dress me up in the saree!"

"WHAT!? WAIT BABE-"

"OMI! My hands will be full of mehendi! You want me to spoil my beautiful saree?"

"But how will I?"

"YOUTUBE!"

"YOUTUBE?"

 

It took him an hour to wrap the saree and another hour to figure out the jewellery, and the day ended with them going on a small 'watching the sunset' date that Kiyoomi had planned for his precious Girlfriend!

 

Well, the aunty somehow ended up with her face coloured with pakka colour on the Haldi day, and no one could figure out who did it. In the distance, Kiyoomi and Osamu just drank the chaas that was being served, and Atsumu, at the side showing Rima her mehendi, all four of them totally unbothered by the chaos!

// END

[ayay]

Today something I did draw, something of the most luxurious sort. And though it's contents make many guffaw, I am obscenely proud of it, in short. And so I posted it with no shame, Alas, it only stained my rapport. (Terza rima is fucking hard urgh)

oh i'm no good at it either LOL i just think it's really fun to make shit up i'm happy for you though, drawing goofy* art that you love is very important to loving what you're doing either way, it's a bit late at night and i've made some tea, would you like a cup?

[bandydear]

I posted 23,254 times in 2022

192 posts created (1%)

23,062 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hotvampireadjacent

@iamnotlanuk

@starry-river-serval

@appsa

@cryptidfucky

I tagged 3,111 of my posts in 2022

#the locked tomb - 470 posts

#arcane - 126 posts

#nona the ninth - 86 posts

#gideon the ninth - 85 posts

#harrow the ninth - 63 posts

#griddlehark - 58 posts

#gideon nav - 58 posts

#nona the ninth spoilers - 58 posts

#ianthe tridentarius - 42 posts

#harrowhark nonagesimus - 42 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#especially when i first played dishonored 2.. beautiful beautiful game. it has the most beautiful wooden wall paneling in any game ever lol

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

If there’s one thing I want from Nona the Ninth it’s Camilla getting her pussy ate and maybe a nap. She’s been through too much… third wheeling two different annoying couples going through dyke drama, the loss of her special boy, keeping an immortal shebeast from eating fries directly out of the deep fryer… someone please give this woman a bubble bath and some orgasms

698 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

#4

John Gaius is so MUNDANELY UNSPEAKABLY evil. He has the Just Some Guy energy of a tenured professor, and he wears a laurel wreath made out of BABY FINGERS. Hi, yes, welcome, have tea and a bikkie while I show you how to kill a planet and every living thing on it. He is become death, destroyer of worlds, and he has a yogurt stain on his shirt.

709 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#3

You are Mercymorn. You have scattered memories of a world pre and post-apocalypse. You know few and many things. You know you love Cristobel. You know you hatelovehate Augustine. You know what parts are supposed to be in a body. You know that John is God.

You sit down at the canteen to have your peas and your cannoli. A looming shadow drifts over to sit across the table from you. An image from your past that seems to sit on the tip of your memory. Blonde, teased out hair, a small nose, small ears, wide pink lips, and luminous yellow eyes. An eight foot tall Barbie doll setting her tray down to eat. You see she has cannoli and peas too. You nervously take a bite and watch her mirror you. She wrinkles her nose at the taste of food and begins eating the fork instead. You watch in fascination and horror as she starts chewing the tray next, mechanically moving a jaw with far too many sharp teeth. She blinks at you and tells you, “It wouldn’t make you happier if you kissed Augustine, but it would make you less tense about it.”

You say to John, “She has to go.”

2,030 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

#2

Just gonna share some pictures of Māori people here for the members of the fandom calling the Nona cover white washing

Jemaine Clement is Māori

Rima Ti Wiata is Māori

See the full post

2,040 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Must we gender blorbo as default male? Is there something inherently masculine about the fixation on a fictional character? I read blorbette and it gave me psychic damage. Blorbo is genderless you fools.

4,519 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[combziescloset]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Rock Revival Rima Boot Cut Style Denim Jeans Size 32.

[grandhotelabyss]

Favorite colour?

The true aesthete must enjoy them all, as Poe teaches us in that decadent passage from "The Masque of the Red Death" that looks forward to Huysmans and Wilde, which I quote in honor of Halloween season:

The apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose color varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example, in blue — and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished and litten with orange — the fifth with white — the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But, in this chamber only, the color of the windows failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were scarlet — a deep blood color.

While I mostly wear black clothes, while I love the autumn leaves, while I appreciate history's cloudy wine and wood and the future's gleaming silver sheen, my color preferences tend to be concentrated in the green-to-blue part of the spectrum. I went looking for good poems about these colors and found the superb almost terza rima "Green" by D. H. Lawrence, which I'd never read before—

—no surprise since, as I knew without having to google, Lawrence also wrote one of the great "blue" poems in "Bavarian Gentians" with its "burning dark blue, / giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off light..."

[peaamlipoetrydoctor]

Wealth, Weather and Women (according to Raymond Chandler)

Decided that for my second attempt at this prompt, I'd fashion words directly from Raymond Chandler quotes (link to the source website at the bottom of the page - thank you Kidadl...).

It's found poetry but snipped and pushed around a bit to make stanzas - and it seemed like a good opportunity to have another go at the Rimas Dissolutas form, which surely sounds like a form well suited to chronicling the story of a film noir archetypal gumshoe?

So I give you -

Wealth, Weather and Women (according to Raymond Chandler)

The big foreign car drove itself, but I               

held the wheel for the sake of appearances,            

empty of life as a scarecrow’s pockets.

I needed a lot of life insurance – a drink –          

a vacation – a home in the country…                 

What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun.   

The Santa Ana was blowing, hot, dry,

stirring paranoia – and romances –

roaring from the mountain like a rocket.

It curled my hair and made my skin itch,

Skittled me off the street to a bar I’d seen,

blinking at dust that made my right eye run.

Woman at the bar caught my watering eye.

A blonde, not unusual in the circumstances,

eyes like wet stones shoved into her sockets,

a presence that would make a bishop flinch,

kick through a stained-glass window to flee.

The kind to lie about anything to anyone.

[mosquitocountyshirtco]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Rima Men Hawaiian camp shirt pit to pit 26 XL aloha luau tropical turtle fish.

[ancestorsalive]

Baba Yaga by Rima Staines

[enchantedbook]

Baba Yaga by Rima Staines

[sweetlittlevampire]

I made a shorter version of this for twitter, and I am not sure when this will drop, since is podfic like this takes a very long time to produce, but I've wanted to do this for so long, so...please enjoy.

If you want to know more about my Wangxian fanfic "Heart of Glass", please find its tumblr promo post with a summary, the tags, and a link to AO3 below.

[innervoiceartblog]

Sometimes A Wild God ... He will not ring the doorbell; Instead he scrapes with his fingers Leaving blood on the paintwork, Though primroses grow in circles round his feet

Tom Hirons

The author reads here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5lJnbB4woQ