So a few things to say. I’ll post art in here whenever I feel like, however drawing anything with a soul is not permitted in my faith. I am religious and have been since I was the age of fourteen. If I stop suddenly, it’ll be because of that.

I don’t mind if people un-follow me and whatever I post will usually be in their appropriate tags.

Thank you everyone.

Personal account is muslim-princess if you need me.

Thoughts on Pandora Hearts 72:

Chapter 72’s seem to have a record for badass moments deliverered by heroines. Winry from FMA, Alice of Pandora Hearts. She’s like the light-hearted anti-thesis for everyone’s angst. =)

The look on Gilbert’s face keeps breaking my heart. Oz’s too.

Lacie is amazing and fierce and needs to pity. But I didn’t think she’d actually feel something beyond for Jack. JackLacie is surprisingly cute.

painted with acrylics on large board a few years ago, for art class. “love of ___” and I chose “Love of God” back then.

“It’s never easy to stand when the storm hits. As soon as it starts raining, lightning shortly follows. Dark clouds replace the sun and all you can see are the waves of an ocean, once calm, surrounding you. No longer able to find your way, you reach out for help.
You begin by calling the coast guard. No reply. You try again to redirect the boat. No use. You look for the lifeboat. It’s gone. You reach for a life jacket. Torn. Finally after you’ve exhausted every means, you turn your face upward.
And ask God.
But there’s something completely unique about this moment. At this instant, you experience something you otherwise could only theorize about: true tawheed. Oneness. See, on shore, you may have called on God. But you called on Him along with so many others. You may have depended on God. But you depended on Him along with so many other handholds. But for this singular moment, everything else is closed. Everything. There is nothing left to call on. Nothing left to depend on. But Him.
And that’s the point.”-Yasmin Mogahed.In this World, you are born alone and you die alone. Nothing of this world was meant to last. Moment can be good or bad, they all pass. Dear Allah, thank you for being there when nobody was.

painted with acrylics on large board a few years ago, for art class. “love of ___” and I chose “Love of God” back then.

“It’s never easy to stand when the storm hits. As soon as it starts raining, lightning shortly follows. Dark clouds replace the sun and all you can see are the waves of an ocean, once calm, surrounding you. No longer able to find your way, you reach out for help.

You begin by calling the coast guard. No reply. You try again to redirect the boat. No use. You look for the lifeboat. It’s gone. You reach for a life jacket. Torn. Finally after you’ve exhausted every means, you turn your face upward.

And ask God.

But there’s something completely unique about this moment. At this instant, you experience something you otherwise could only theorize about: true tawheed. Oneness. See, on shore, you may have called on God. But you called on Him along with so many others. You may have depended on God. But you depended on Him along with so many other handholds. But for this singular moment, everything else is closed. Everything. There is nothing left to call on. Nothing left to depend on. But Him.

And that’s the point.”

-Yasmin Mogahed.

In this World, you are born alone and you die alone. Nothing of this world was meant to last. Moment can be good or bad, they all pass.

Dear Allah, thank you for being there when nobody was.

3 days ago
7 notes

❝

So we may live in this world, and have all the goods and possessions of deception that anyone could dream of, but have completely failed at the object of our existence. And if the object of our existence is, as Allah tells us, only to serve Him (51:56), then it would follow that only that which brought us closer to that end, would be a blessing, while that which took us away from that end would be the greatest calamity – no matter what those things were. And so it may be that the loss of everything dear to us is in fact the greatest blessing from Allah. If that loss brings us closer to the very purpose of our creation, what greater blessing could there be?

Yasmin Mogahed (via beautifulpatienceforever)

3 days ago
4 notes

the artist behind this account

3 days ago
8 notes

teenage Gilbert and Alice. //“Quiet emotion”.

3 days ago
12 notes

Gilbert Nightray
alice
alice baskerville
Pandora Hearts
gilbert baskerville

dump of scattered unfinished works, Pandora Hearts and original characters.

5 days ago
39 notes

original characters
Gilbert Nightray
alice baskerville
Pandora Hearts
Oz Vessalius
vanessa nightray
lacie baskerville
ada vessalius
will of the abyss
white alice
alyss
gilbert baskerville

5min failish-realism Gilbert speedpaint.

6 days ago
8 notes

Gilbert Nightray
gilbert baskerville
Pandora Hearts

So

I am back-ish. I’ve had a few illnesses and losses to deal with and that’s the core reason I’ve been away so long. I don’t know who is still here after so long but hello again. =)

I’ll keep it short:

I’ll still submit drawings here but I won’t check my dashboard on this account or answer asks. That is because I have a personal account and don’t want to manage two blogs intimately.

It’s muslim-girlcess. Message/follow me if you wish to get to know me.

And lastly, I want to say sorry if I ever hurt anyone’s feelings and had misunderstandings, from the bottom of my heart. Salam alaikum.

6 days ago

Scene from AU RP with ~Polgara-Soceress. I play Elliot and she plays Will of the Abyss. This is my Pandora Hearts crack pairing and I like it a lot.

Red was foreign on her. A lifetime growing beside her and Elliot had never seen her in that colour. She always wore white, she was wearing white right now, but she usually accompanied it with blue. Violet. Green, even. And he didn't need a second glance down to think that the red of her cloth roses and the real roses at their feet horribly twin in hue and melting into each other until he couldn't tell apart. Red was her sister's colour and red was the eye colour of her husband. She never looked more tempting. (Quite the feat, for her.) (That was Elliot gradually leaning closer) In that white dress stealing colours from the white of her hair spattered with roses like blood blots it was so her. Sadistic kind of enchantment and tonight his breath has been caught since he saw her anyways, had he actually had any oxygen since? Because he couldn't remember. In that sea of torn roses, kneeling before the girl who had hurt him, Elliot Nightray muttered something resembling an insincere apology before biting his glove off, taking it in his left and tipping her chin with that left hand while angling his head for her mouth. His right hand went to the skin of her back, he knew he might as well have just leapt face-first into the rosebushes. Her thorns always felt more real.