#UP former CM

[telanganajournalist]

తెలంగాణలో సమ సమాజ స్థాపన కేవలం బహుజనులతోటే సాధ్యం

#Bahujans #Mayavathi #RSP #BSP #Telangana #Saroornagar #Hyderabad

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡You And Him｡⋆.

Aaron Hotchner x plus size reader

Calls from Jack were precious so Hotch was more than okay with you answering them

Warnings: fluff, thoughts on the future

WC: 579

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

There was a certain order of events that always transpired on the jet ride home after a case was done; A round of teas and coffees would be brewed by Rossi (who claimed no one knew how to do it properly), Derek would don a pair of headphones that should have been thrown out years ago and play obnoxiously loud music, JJ would take a much-deserved nap, Emily had a habit of reading cheesy romance novels while Spencer played chess against himself. And Hotch called home.

Hearing his boy’s voice or even just his breathing while he slept, calmed his anxiety down to almost nothing. It soothed him more than he could ever say out loud.

A smile pulled at his lips as Aaron’s phone lit up with his former sister-in-law’s name. He didn’t even bother glancing around the cabin to check if anyone was watching as he answered the call.

“Hey buddy.” The typical heavy breathing of a child filled his ears before there was a soft hiccup.

“Hi dad.” Hotch’s brow scrunched in concern and pressed the device closer to his skin, as if he could impart some comfort onto his son through the screen.

“What’s wrong?” Across the table from him, your eyes snapped up from your report, your attention now solely focused on him.

“Is um, is Y/N there?” Immediately, Aaron sagged into the airplane seat, his smile returning tenfold. Your relationship was fresh, still filled with the anxiety and excitement of firsts as you explored each other. You were infinitely nervous when he had finally introduced you to Jack as his girlfriend and not just the colleague you had been before.

But just like he knew you would, you and his son were thick as thieves and evidently, that carried over into when you were away for work. “Yeah buddy, she’s sitting right in front of me.” Your breath hitched and he knew that heat was now crawling up your neck. 

“Can I talk to her? Please?” His heart melted at Jack’s sincere plea. He would never deny his son, especially not when it came to this. 

“Of course.” Your head was tilted in confusion until Aaron pulled the phone from his ear and held it to you. “It’s for you.” 

Your beaming smile lit up the whole cabin as you practically snatched the device from his hand, cradling it to your ear as if you were holding a baby bird. “Jack?”

Aaron couldn’t hear his response over the roar of the airplane’s engine but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because as soon as you sunk back into your seat, your eyes sparkling with love, he became lost in his fantasies.

He could see you clear as day, standing in front of him in a white dress, glowing in that way you did when you were overwhelmingly happy. Jack would be between you, both as your man of honour and his best man, unable to choose which side he wanted to stand on. Maybe there would even be another little Hotchner in the crowd with your eyes and Aaron’s dimples. 

Possibly even two of them, or three. 

Your quiet giggles made his heart skip a beat and Aaron thought that he didn’t mind if you took all his calls from Jack on the way home if it meant that he could hear your voice, unburdened by the depravity of the job.

He wondered if it was too early to start shopping for rings.

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[railingsofsorrow]

summary: in which a phone call ruined your day.

... or not, because your boyfriend made sure to be there for you until you were okay again. pairing: s. reid x gn!reader

w.c: 2.1K

warnings/content: reader is reckless and puts themselves in danger (one time); angst; mentions of shutting people out; an argument happens but the fluff comes right after; case-related violence; reader is going through something but it isn't explained; mentions of past bad habits; be aware of spelling errors.

A/N: my finals aren't over but I forced myself to take a break for the night. thus, I'm posting this hurt/comfort blurb. hope you like it.

navi

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“you're mad.”

the day started good. you even got breakfast at home, which is something it almost never works out. but a case only arrived at around nine, so you had time to eat something before leaving.

spencer made toast, crispy, just the way you liked it. you sipped on your orange juice as he took his coffee, hand resting above yours in the comfortable morning silence you liked to partake in.

the day started good.

until things went south really quick.

it all begun with a phone call. not a work call, you were pretty used to those and when hotch called you up to the briefing room, everybody was already filling out paperwork in the bureau.

your mood went sour in a matter of seconds. you think you were able to desguise it from most of the team, though. except for spencer and maybe emily, because emily noticed every eyelash that was out of place, she couldn't even help it.

the news you got caused you to retract back to old habits, shutting people out and drowning in work to avoid thinking about it. you were numb, doing everything on autopilot, but you didn't let it compromise your professionalism. never. that fucking phone call wouldn't make you a bad profiler for a second. you wouldn't let it.

being numb lead you to be impulsive. and you took advantage of that. you'd jump straight into action just to avoid dealing with your problems. just to forget.

“i'm not mad.”

your boyfriend's tone was clipped, short. almost cold, but it didn't got that far yet. it took a lot to make spencer reid mad. but when it happened, and you were the reason, you were always conflicted on whether to let him cool off for himself, give him space, or beg for forgiveness right after you screwed up.

this time, you decided on the former. you don't think it worked that well.

the unsub had a gun pointing at a seven year old child. he was cornered in every way possible. police cars were still arriving at the scene, although five FBI agents aimed at the man, ready to shoot in case he so much as twitched a finger on that trigger.

anxiety ran along the bystanders as they watched it all happen in their neighborhood. you hadn't plan that, in fact, all of you had planned something else entirely. the profile was solid as well as the location and the unsub's endgame.

but people are unpredictable. no matter how hard you've studied the human brain. in certain circumstances, they would be capable of anything. including threatening children's lives.

your boss advised everyone to stay back. that they had it covered. it was only a matter of talking him down, carefully and with confidence.

but the second you heard the sob of that seven-year-old boy, you stopped focusing on the command reaching your earpiece. bulletproof vest and gun set aside, you marched forward, no ounce of hesitation. you knew what you were doing.

“spencer.” you followed him into your bedroom, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you felt your legs wobble slightly. you were exhausted. the day was hell both physically and mentally and you just wanted to take a good shower and sleep for forty eight hours. you wanted to forget it ever happened. you wanted to forget that phone call.

he didn't spared you a glance as he grabbed a pair of clothes to get into the bathroom. there was it. that coldness you hated. it was finally here. “spencer, please. can we talk?” you begged. if there was one thing that suffocated you was sleeping while upset. and your boyfriend was an elite grudge holder. you just couldn't do that tonight.

“of course.” he leaned back from the door just before entering the bathroom. an impassive expression across his featured as he turned to you. you wanted to scream at him. “you've been avoiding me all day, but you want to talk now? of course.”

okay. you deserved that.

did you though? why couldn't he make your life a little easier?

“sorry I was rude to you,” you said, holding back the petty comment wanting to slip out of your tongue. sorry I'm going through something and you're being an idiot about it. “i didn't mean to. I shouldn't have treated you that way.”

spencer's tongue poked around his cheek and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. an argument. in the middle of the night — morning, it must have been past two am.

“i don't care that you were rude the entire day.” spencer clarified as if that would make things better. “i care that you threw yourself in front of a psychopath with a gun, without a bulletproof vest and only your hands to work as a shield.”

“you had my back.” you insisted, recalling the moment the whole team started to shout at both you and the unsub. they were behind you, you had good coverage. “someone needed to talk him down.”

he didn't seem to be on the verge of snapping anymore. his shoulders were slumped. he was tired too. he was exhausted. it has been a long day and you needed to rest. you needed to sleep. you needed to forget.

it had started as a good day.

“we were doing that.” spencer mumbled, softly. he eyed your bitten cuticules, the bandage in your arm and your far away gaze. spencer wasn't stupid. he noticed things. he noticed you. he knew something was wrong from the moment you excused yourself to take a phone call in the middle of the case briefing. you came back into the room a different person. contained. robotic. strictly professional. “why couldn't you wait?”

“it was a child. he was scared.” you snapped, flinching away from him. “he didn't have time to wait.”

spencer pressed his brows together, deciding to not mention the time you did have to do what you had to do. statistics wouldn't help now. “you could have gotten shot in the chest.”

“it barely grazed my arm.”

“that's not the point!”

“and what is?” you yelled back, turning to him, fuming. “there is no point. the boy was in danger. you decided to wait. I decided to act. he's alive. I'm barely hurt. the case is over.”

spencer faltered, seeking something in you that he wasn't able to find. his gaze travelled accross yours in a desperate attempt to make you realise how stupid that single sentence was. one mistake. one wrong move. and you could have been somewhere else instead of in your shared apartment.

a bodybag.

“who called you?” you blinked at him, taken aback by the question. you expected him to blame you further. you even expected him to ignore you for the rest of the night. you would not back down. “i know something happened. someone happened. you're not... you wouldn't do that if you were thinking.”

“so because I'm impulsive one time, you're questioning my judgement?”

“when your judgement makes me almost lose you, yes. I am.” he crossed his arms, licking his lips as he studied you. profiled you. you fucking hated him right now. you wanted to rip his brains out.

“there was an entire team aiming at the guy, spencer.” you scoffed, pressing a thumb against your forehead, a headache brewing. your will to argue has vanished. you just wanted to sleep.

“you were blocking our aim.”

“can you stop?”

“no.”

you no longer had control of your emotions as your sight begins to be blurred by tears. fuck, I can't do this.

the room became silent. as if hearing your inner turmoils, spencer paused. he thought it through, any possibility that might have caused your sudden mood change. your impulsiveness. he thought he had done something, but by your reaction it wasn't that. it wasn't him.

it all shifted after that phone call.

you didn't retract when he approached. you didn't reject his touch or pushed him away. but you remained frozen, locked up in your own cage.

“do you want to talk about it?”

it had started as a good day.

you stood up, brushing your strands behind your ears and swallowing up the feeling of something permanently lodged in your throat.

you didn't turn to watch his expression faltering in disappointment. you didn't had the guts to see it.

“no.” you said. “i'm fine. I'm going to take a shower. I'm tired.” you left to your shared bedroom without a goodnight, knowing it would be pointless since you'd be sleeping alone tonight.

sleeping was a strong word. you closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids so tight that you're seeing stars. tossing and turning for around one hour in an empty bed was enough to leave you upset. the weight of the day and the argument you had with your boyfriend taking a toll on you.

maybe you hadn't been fair to spencer. it's not like he did anything to force your sudden mood change; he had absolutely nothing to do with it, actually. he wasn't responsible for that phone call, he wasn't the person at the other line whose voice you didn't want to hear ever again. he was just the one at the receiving end of your irritability.

your boyfriend, he wasn't one to pry. to force you to speak of things that made you uncomfortable. things you weren't ready to discuss yet. he was the kind of person who would ask if everything was alright and he would make sure you knew you had a shoulder to cry on and a ear to vent if necessary.

spencer was caring and respectful. he knew you needed space just as he did at some moments. so much so that he wasn't sleeping on the couch because he was mad at you — though you had been rude for that to be case — but because being around him, or anyone for that matter, would only set you off.

his curled up frame on the couch, half covered by the blanket and half uncovered to the night air. curls splattered around the pillow he stole from your bedroom when you were still in the bathroom. you wanted to bury yourself into his arms and never leave him again. you wanted his warmth all over you.

standing on the entrance of the living room, you watched his eyelids move incessantly. it was what told you he wasn't in a deep sleep.

he was pretending to be sleeping and you knew he was aware of your watchful eyes.

“i'm sorry.”

you mumbled into the uncomfortable silence, scratching your arm beneath the bandage in nervousness. shifting into your feet, you contemplated approaching him, but remained in the spot.

he peaked at you as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. he moved to a sitting position, outstretching a hand in your direction. an invitation.

“c'me here.”

you didn't need to be told twice.

“i'm sorry I was rude to you, I didn't mean it. you were just there and I—” he shushed your ramble with a kiss to your temple, arms squeezing you against him the way you craved in bed a few minutes ago. “i'm sorry, spencer. please don't be mad at me.” the last part you let out in a soft whisper but it only made him pull you closer as a form of comfort, to erase the pain you were feeling.

spencer cupped your cheeks so you would look at him “i'm not mad.” he promised, thumb grazing your face lovingly. “i just thought you needed space, but I promise I'm not mad, okay?”

you nodded with your lips trembling slightly. you were fairly certain that if you were to speak anything right now you'd burst into tears immediately.

you did manage to let out i don't want space, I want you. because it was all that you needed right now. always.

he kissed every teardrop that slipped out after that, bringing you closer to lay on his chest as he rested his back against the arm of the couch.

“i'm here, baby.” he whispered, fingers dancing across your arms. “always.”

you turned on his hold to be face to face with him, lifting one hand to touch the side of his face, caressing his jaw where you felt the growing stubble on his chin.

“thank you.” you said, smiling faintly when he pecked the tip of your nose.

he ended up covering the both of you with the spare blanket.

he breathed out as if pretty satisfacted with your current position, even though you both will most certainly be complaining of backache as soon as you wake up tomorrow. “i love you.” he let out, not minding about the pain in his joints in the morning. the only thing that mattered was you in his arms, safe and sound.

the day started good, until a phone call ruined it completely.

or not. because spencer was there and he kind of made things bearable. and if he could just make you feel better for a little while, that's what he would do.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

[mydaddywiki]

Tim Walz

Physique: Average Build Height: 6' 2" (188 cm)

Timothy James Walz (born April 6, 1964) is an American politician, former schoolteacher, and retired United States Army non-commissioned officer who has served as the 41st governor of Minnesota since 2019. He was a member of the U.S. House of Representatives from 2007 to 2019, representing Minnesota's 1st congressional district. His cheerful and friendly demeanor has made him popular in office and that propelled him into the reckoning to be running mate to Vice President Kamala Harris.

Walz was born in West Point, Nebraska. After high school, he joined the Army National Guard and worked in manufacturing. He later graduated from Chadron State College in Nebraska before moving to Minnesota in 1996. Before running for Congress, he was a high school social studies teacher and football coach.

Funny how a week ago, few, if any people had no idea who Walz was, but now wanting to get into his pants and to be honest I’m here for it. He'd would look stunning, naked in my bed with my dick in him.

Handsome, looks hairy and he’s got some damn nice DSLs (Dick Sucking Lips) too! Walz is indeed a cute and sexy guy, but don’t get your hopes up, he’s straight. Married since 1994 with two children and a dog named Scout and a cat named Honey.

But… The more I look at him. The more I think he kinda has that guy next door who’s secretly into fuckery. Gay, straight or other fuckery? Who knows. But fuckery none the less.

[em1e]

⠀若年 // THIEVES AMONG US ⠀ ༝ ༝ wakatoshi ushijima ⠀ ༝ ༝ 1k words ⠀ ⚠︎ fluff to make up for the heartbreak i've been posting ⠀— ushijima is tired of having no hoodies left

ushijima wakatoshi was a lot of things. 

standing at a strong 189.5 cm, all muscle and intimidation to those who don’t know him. quiet and kind to those who do. 

patience is not something that ushiwaka finds himself lacking in the slightest. it’s actually one of the few things he prides himself in, tolerance for things at another level compared to others. on rare occasion does he find it wearing thin, and today seems to be one of those rarities. 

he’s looked everywhere for the stash of hoodies he keeps hidden in his room, locked away from your sticky fingers that manage to take home every other jumper, t-shirt, or jacket you can grab. as the days begin to get colder, leaves turning and falling off of their trees with fall turning to winter, he finds it necessary to have one of the few hoodies he has left under his roof before he goes out the door, and he cannot seem to find a single one. 

he almost wants to be amazed at how quickly you manage to grab them - unknowingly to his analytical eye, but frustration bleeds its way under his skin as he stands from looking under his bed for the third time. 

not in his closet, not shoved in the backs of his drawers, not even at the bottom his laundry hamper. poof, gone. disappeared into the wind with no evidence to prove they were ever there in the first place. 

ushijima heaves a sigh, pulling on his old, thin volleyball jacket with the decision of that needing to be enough. it’d have to be, with the fact of not having anything else to pull on over his long sleeve looming bitterly over his head. 

and to think you hate the color of his shiratorizawa jacket - now worn and dull compared to how it looked when he was still in high school. but, if he had to pick between your distaste for the jacket or be uncomfortably chilly for your date,  he’d choose the former. at least then, he can have some amount of satisfaction with being able to point out that you are the reason he’s been pushed to such measures. 

this bit of spite is enough to spur him on to your house to pick you up for your date. 

you looked excited when you pulled open the door, only for your face to drop and your nose to scrunch as you take in the sight of his jacket. faded purple clashing with the off-whitish-yellow shirt he’s decided to pair it with. 

“waka . . .” you almost whine as he steps inside so you can slide on your shoes, “we’re gonna take pictures, you don’t have any other jackets to wear?” 

“i think you know better than i do the answer to that.” the baritone of his voice cutting through you as you stand on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. it forms into a giggle when he returns it, leaving you to be the one to step away so you can finish getting ready. 

“‘m not sure what you mean,” you wave off easily, but you grab his hand to pull him towards your room so he doesn’t hover in the entryway while you put the final pieces of your outfit together, “can let you borrow one of mine, though.” 

he makes a noise, low in the back of his throat, that tells you he knows you mean one of the many you’ve robbed from him, but he doesn’t voice a complaint because even the short walk to your home was enough to leave goosebumps on his skin - his shiratorizawa jacket doing nothing to protect him from the elements. 

he watches as you grab a sweater of your own to pull over your shoulders, cute and matching the outfit you’ve picked perfectly, before getting on your knees beside your bed and pushing some stuff around under it, pulling out a large storage container with a huff. 

“don’t be upset,” you’re starting to say, popping open the lid and taking it off to reveal . . . every single hoodie he’s been missing in the past three years you’ve been dating. 

“how . . .” he starts, brows shooting up in shock before they furrow, “why?” 

“i like the way you smell,” you pout, puffing out your cheeks to fight the heat rising to them as you avoid his stare to dig through the tub, “s’nice for when you’re out of town for games.” 

you pull out one of the neatly folded hoodies you’d been searching for. a sage green that goes well with your own outfit and the shirt he’s got on. 

you offer it to him with a grin, “i can let you borrow this one, but i’ll need it back.” you say matter-of-factly, pulling it back to yourself when he doesn’t say anything to the comment, “i need confirmation you’ll give it back!” 

you have the audacity to look serious right now. deadly so, as if your life may be on the line without this very hoodie. 

“i’ll give it back.” he affirms, “but i need at least three back if you don’t want to ever see me in this jacket again.” he gestures to the worn jacket he’s began to pull off his shoulders, offering it to you in exchange for the green one still being held hostage in your hands. 

your eyes flick from the shiratorizawa jacket to the container at your feet. thinking. calculating. 

“fine,” you hold the hoodie out to him, “but i get to pick which ones.” 

he pulls the hoodie over his head, just barely catching the way your eyes eat at the portion of his abs that shows when his shirt rides up. he grins, “i’ll take that.”

[twstgarden]

✿ ❝ 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ❞

━ lilia vanrouge x gn! reader (reader can be yuu or an oc/twstsona)

━ you were once his light in his darkest days, but since then, he has not seen you and still yearns for your return, yet he wonders if he is just deluding himself into thinking you're still here.

this work may contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia's arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

silver and sebek were in lilia's room, aiding him in tidying up his items as they tried to distract themselves from the fact that their beloved father and mentor had dropped the bomb that he was migrating elsewhere.

in the middle of their packing, silver came across a photo album that he had not seen before. sebek also saw the photo album and spoke, "is that yours, lilia-sama?"

hearing sebek's query made lilia turn his head before realising that his son held the photo album, and with a smile, he replied, "yes. go through it if you wish."

and so they did. silver sat on lilia's bed with sebek standing beside him as they went through each page of the photo album together. they were filled with pictures taken during their younger days, and one even had the photo that lilia took on silver's birthday with malleus and sebek.

as they moved on to the next page, they came across a photo of lilia in his prime general days with a person smiling next to him. they looked ethereal, the very definition of beauty and grace. they looked gorgeous and breathtaking, and yet they had never seen this person before.

silver took the photo and examined it with sebek as the former asked, "who are you with in this photo, father?"

lilia looked at the photo in silver's hand and his eyes widened a little in surprise. 'oh, they found it,' he thought to himself. as he tried to keep a smile on his face, lilia responded, "someone very dear to me... however, i don't know where they are now."

"a lover?" questioned sebek as he and silver looked at one another in surprise.

"i had not realised that father had a special someone before..." mumbled silver in surprise.

lilia laughed a little at their statements, "what's that supposed to mean? i am the charming little fellow! is it such a wonder that i have a fair lover in mine arms?"

silver and sebek were about to respond until lilia continued, "ah, but... that was in the past." he then took a seat beside silver, taking the photo from his hand as he looked at it once more, gently caressing the image of his love - the only remaining piece of memento he had on them.

"...it has been over 300 or so years since i last saw them. i don't even know where they are until now," muttered lilia, "they were the charmingly funniest person i have met. quite shy, but definitely can sense danger."

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"what are you doing in here?" the sudden voice made you jump out of your seat as you looked around your garden in a cautious stance, wondering who had just spoken when you were peacefully sitting alone in the lovely garden of your cottage deep in the woods. "who's... who's there..." you muttered to yourself, uncertain if you should even ask. a rustle was then heard nearby and in a blink of an eye, you were caught in a chokehold. you tried to pry free from whoever was holding you, but they had a strong physique. "i won't ask again. what are you doing in here?" "i live here...!" you quickly answered. hearing this made the perpetrator raise a brow before looking around and noticing the cottage, "...here? deep in the woods?" "yes!" they then stared for a while before sighing and unhanding you. you then got a good look at them. it was a fae, standing at 158 cm tall, with a mask to cover his face yet his uniform gave away his occupation. "...an imperial guard...?" you muttered. "a human?" muttered the fae as well, "living in the woods... hah! good joke." you raised a brow at his words before speaking, "um... i do live here, though..." feeling threatened, you quickly backed away from him, making sure you were getting closer to your crops. he thought nothing of it, but he sure did sense your weariness. nevertheless, he spoke, "you shouldn't be here. no human is supposed to live deep in these woods. do you live under a rock? if other soldiers stumbled upon you and this cottage, you'd be dead in no time." "and here i stumbled upon a soldier..." you remarked. he took a step closer as he spoke, "i won't say this again. lea——! wha— hey!" before he could complete his sentence, you grabbed a bunch of your tomato crops and threw each of them at him while yelling, "go away! i won't hesitate to throw more tomatoes at you if you try to kill me!" the fae clicked his tongue and groaned in annoyance as he shielded himself with his arms from your tomatoes. "stop it!" yelled the fae, "cease this tomfoolery at once, human!" he eventually got close enough to you and grabbed your wrists before you could throw another tomato at him. with a glare, he spoke, "what do you think you're doing, throwing tomatoes at a faerie - a general at that? do you have a death wish?" once you registered his words, you blinked owlishly and eventually brought your hands down, letting your other tomatoes fall back to the ground, "...general...?" 'i'm done for.' with a sigh, the fae dusted off some tomato residue on his clothing before glaring back at you, "i was only giving you a warning and you already threw tomatoes at me. do you really think that will help you when others - especially with bad intentions - come over and attack? really, this is the first. attacking people with crops. horrendous."

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"they threw tomatoes...?" spoke silver in surprise.

"what kind of defence weapon is that?" muttered sebek in shock before silver spoke, "perhaps it was the only thing accessible." lilia laughed a little as he replied, "well, it did take place in the garden. at least they had the initiative to be resourceful and use their surroundings to their advantage."

"i suppose..." replied silver, "what else?"

"well, aren't you two curious? they're also very sweet and ensure i am taken care of."

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"you need to stop throwing yourself at the battlefield so carelessly." you scolded as you looked at his injuries and tried to tend to them, even if he said he could heal them with magic. "i do not need your he— hiss!" "calm down! i can't clean the wound if you keep moving," you scolded once again as you continued to dab the cotton on his injury, "really now. is this a thing with you gents - humans or faeries alike? just throwing yourself at war and getting yourselves injured without a proper plan?" lilia huffed in annoyance at your nagging, but he did not exactly do anything to stop you as he let you clean up his wound. "i do not 'throw myself at the battlefield'. i was merely defending myself." you sighed and muttered, "whatever you say, general vanrouge." after cleaning his wound and bandaging him up, you collected your first aid kit supplies and returned them to your cabinet. "have you eaten?" you asked. "...roasted lizards, yeah." hearing his reply made you freeze as you blinked in shock. though you are aware that faes tend to have a different palate than humans — though they do enjoy a human meal from to time — you still could not believe his version of a "meal" is some random animal he comes across in the woods and roasts it. "...i'll make you some dinner."

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"your lover cared for you a lot, lilia-sama," cheered sebek, "how wonderful! this is an amazing love story!"

lilia smiled at sebek's remark as he replied, "...i'd like to think so too."

silver then spoke, "then... what happened, father? why have you not seen them for years now?"

"...i do not know if they're still alive and hiding from me... or..."

lilia did not have to finish that sentence for the two to know what he meant.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"f/n!!!" lilia cried out as he rummaged through the cottage, entering every room and going through every space possible to check if you were hiding. he had just gotten back from the silver owls headquarters and was supposed to be on the way back to the wild rose castle to chase them back and make sure they didn't get to meleanor. on his way back, however, he came across your cottage and saw its dishevelled state. not caring for baul's calls, he got off his grip and ran to your cottage, ignoring the aching pain coursing through his entire body due to his injuries. "shit! shit, shit, shit!" lilia cursed as he looked everywhere and found no one. baul was quick to enter the cottage as he called out to the general, "right general, we must go! princess meleanor might be in danger!" "THEY TOOK THEM!" his loud, wrathful voice stunned baul as he spoke, "right general...?" "f/n! that human i'm with! those bastards took them!" baul then realised who he was talking about. lilia had mentioned a human in the cottage once that he was acquainted with, and baul started to connect the dots. "let's go!" before baul could ponder more, lilia's command quickly snapped him back to reality as they both continued their journey back to the wild rose castle.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"they were kidnapped...?!"

"father, that's...!"

their concerned and shocked faces were not lost on lilia as he smiled sadly, "i tried searching for them everywhere, and i did everything... and yet, nothing came to fruition in my endless search. eventually, i thought... maybe i was too late."

lilia then stood up, looking at the photo before he cast it aside only for silver to grab it and return it back to the photo album once more.

"it may have been centuries ago, but i will never forget the radiant light they shone in my life."

'and now, i don't even know if i'll ever see my light again.'

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: cookie cutter shark

There are some words that just shouldn't go together, like "edible radium", "reasonable conspiracy theorist", and "sandpaper underwear". Well here's a new one for you: "parasitic shark". The only problem is, that one is real. Yeah, this is one of those animals that's so bizarre it would be mocked as too silly if a fiction writer came up with it. Welcome back to Wet Beast Wednesday, where we discuss the cookie cutter shark.

(Image: a cookie cutter shark said on a patch of fabric. It is a small, brown shark with a darker collar region. Its fins are small and the head is blunt. It is widest around the middle. A pencil has been placed next to it for scale. End ID)

There are two known species of cookie cuter shark: Isistius brasiliensis and Isistius plutodus. The latter, common name: largetooth cookie cutter shark, is much rarer and less well known than the former, which will be the main topic of this post. The cookie cutter shark is a very small shark, measuring between 42 and 56 cm (16-22 in) in length as adults. They have multiple adaptations that set them apart from other sharks, even other members of the dogfish order. Their bodies are described as cigar-shaped, which is why another common name is cigar shark. The head is short and rounded and the mouth is large, with prominent teeth and large lips. The upper teeth are small and narrow while the lower teeth are larger and form a saw-like edge. Unlike other sharks, they do not replace one tooth at a time, but instead lose and replace the entire front lower row at once.

(Image: a closeup of the head of a preserved shark. The lips have been pulled back to expose the mouth showing the large, saw-like lower teeth and much smaller upper teeth. End ID).

Cookie cutters are among the few sharks that are strongly bioluminescent. Their underbellies and a collar around the neck area have luminescent cells called photophores. The cells on the belly mimic light from above, making it difficult for predators below to distinguish the shark from the surface of the ocean. The cells on the neck are believed to be used for attracting prey by mimicking a small fish. Cookie cutter sharks have large livers with a high oil content that helps them maintain buoyancy. While most fins are small (or in the case of the anal fin, missing), the tail fin is large and suited for sudden bursts of speed. Longtooth cookie cuter sharks are larger, with longer bottom teeth and smaller fins.

(Image: photos of the underside of a cookie cutter shark showing the bioluminescent photophores, which make the belly look blue. End ID)

The common name of the cookie cutter shark comes from its unique feeding mechanism. The sharks are deep-sea ambush predators that use their natural buoyancy to remain motionless in the water column while using their bioluminescence to attract prey. When prey approaches, the shark will dart forward and attach to the larger animal. Using its lips to form a seal, the shark can generate suction to make it very hard to remove. It then uses the upper teeth as an anchor to help the larger bottom teeth pierce the skin. Then , the shark spins around (the thrashing of its prey may help) to cut out a roughly circular plug of skin and muscle. The circular holes left behind are reminiscent of bits of cookie dough cut out by a cookie cutter, hence the name. The sharks will also eat small fish and squid whole and are known to scavenge carrion. They will sometimes school, possibly to help attract prey while discouraging predators. Just about any medium to large animal in the shark's territory is a possible target. Scars from cookie cutter shark feeding have been found on cetaceans (whales and dolphins), pinnipeds (seals and sea lions), other sharks, rays, and bony fish. Because the sharks feed off of other animals without killing them, they are considered parasites. Specifically, they are facultative ectoparasites, meaning they attach to the outside of their hosts and are not fully dependent on parasitism to survive.

(Image: a swordfish with multiple fresh bites from cookie cutter sharks. The bites look like pink pits dug into the swordfish's side. End ID)

Cookie cutter sharks are found worldwide in the mesopelagic zone (roughly 200 - 3000 ft deep), though they have been known to move to shallower water. They are found worldwide and seem to prefer the open ocean. Most sightings are around islands, but its not clear if they do congregate around islands or this is a case of sampling bias. Because of their remote habitats, little is known about their behavior in the wild. Likewise, we don't know much about their reproductive behavior, though like other dogfish, they are viviparous. The embryos are raised in two uteruses and there can be up to 12 of them. They likely have a very long gestation period.

(Image: a slender cookie cutter shark seen from the side)

Cookie cutter sharks are classified as least concern by the IUCN. There is no fishery for them and they are only caught as bycatch. People have been able to see the scars left by the sharks on their prey for a very long time and there were several hypotheses for what was leaving the scars, including lampreys and bacteria. In 1971, scientist Everett Jones was the one who discovered that the cigar sharks (as they were then known) were responsible. The name cookie cutter shark became popular after that. Human interaction with the sharks are rare, but multiple attacks have been recorded, most of them on swimmers trying to cross the channels in Hawai'i. There have also been reports of shipwrecked sailors being attacked and bodies have been recovered with signs of cookie cutter shark scavenging. Generally though, the sharks are not considered dangerous to humans due to their remote, deep-sea habitat. Back in the 1970s, US Navy submarines kept finding circular holes in the neoprene coating of their sonar domes, which let components leak out and impaired the subs' navigation abilities. Putting fiberglass over the domes solved the problem, but it wasn't realized until much later that the damage was caused by cookie cutter sharks mistaking the subs for prey and not an unknown weapon. This wasn't even the only time this happened. In the 1980s, it happened again with the robber coating for some electric equipment. If only we could all setback militaries as easily as this little shark.

(Image: a circular scar left on someone's calf by a cookie cutter shark bite. End ID)

[supakixbabe]

So, I will be going on a blocking spree (which I never wanna do) because listen:

I don’t care if you like CM Punk, but for fucksake, hold him accountable for his actions. Saying Tony should’ve forced the Young Bucks to work with him is wrong on so many levels. Nobody should have to work with someone that toxic, because if they were in the ring together, he could’ve seriously hurt them. He could’ve seriously hurt them outside of the ring too. Same with Jack Perry. This has been normal behavior for this man which should never be condoned, but Punk fans will ride him into the sunset on such a high pedestal.

He has done this shit in so many companies, it’s actually quite sad and nothing new. I’m a former CM Punk fan (WITH A FUCKING PUNK TATTOO) and I know someone personally who’s actually hung around Punk.

They too are no longer a fan.

Brawl Out and the ALL IN incident should’ve never happened, but guess who caused all this shit? CM Punk. He has always been the “child” he called everyone else. Like I said, I don’t care if you’re a fan but don’t fucking claim he’s innocent and blame the people who worked hard to fix the shit he caused.

HE ASSAULTED HIS CO-WORKERS AND BOSS. I dare you to do that to one of your co-workers and your boss and see if you don’t get terminated, or worse, put in jail.

He is NOT INNOCENT. HE’S NOT RIGHT. NOTHING. And if you cannot hold him accountable and stop blaming everyone else for HIS actions. You’re JUST AS BAD.

AEW never needed Punk and he got salty and started running his mouth. He wasn’t right. HE NEVER WAS RIGHT.

This is my LAST time speaking on this and if you have a problem? Block me. If the roles were reversed, you’d all be up in arms. Keep that same energy with your pathetic savior – voice of the voiceless and a major hypocritical liar.

END OF STORY.

PS. Any Punk fans who hold him accountable are good in my book. 🖤

[sins0fthefather]

Wrath.

Jeff the Killer HCs:

General HCs:

Full Name: Jeffrey Alexander Woods (Only responds to Jeff though. Best case scenario if you call him his full name is he’ll ignore you, worst case scenario is him flipping his shit on you)

Age: 22-25 (Based on where in the story a character study/fic takes place)

Birthday: September 22 (Older than Liu by 2 years)

Wasian— Father is Chinese, mother is a born n’ raised Texan

Biromantic, Demisexual

Has autism, C-PTSD, BPD (contributor to his auditory hallucinations), NPD, ASPD, and BDD

Right Handed

6’1 (185~ cm)

Covered in burn scars, most noticeably on his chest, forearms, and back

He uses white facepaint, it makes his face’s silhouette look “cleaner” in his eyes

His cuts have healed up for the most part, although he’ll have moments where he relapses and cuts at them again. The ends will also sometimes tear if he does something like laugh too hard.

Very touchy with other people, but he despises being touched first. He prefers to initiate physical contact- both because of the control aspect of it and because of his general distrust of others.

His sense of humor waxes and wanes from extreme condescension to the most morbid sentences you’ve ever heard. Half of the time it doesn’t even sound like a joke.

Reckless driver, cursed with terrible road rage

Smokes cigarettes, his brand of choice is Marlboro

Drinks vodka straight as if it were water

I feel like his favorite band would be Tool or Slipknot. His music taste is just metal and dad rock.

Was brought up in a Catholic school for most of his life, although he obviously doesn’t keep up with the practice anymore. This is a big catalyst for why he develops a god complex however since he “has authority over life and death”— something unique only to gods from what he was taught.

Very observant of the people around him. He memorizes speech patterns, demeanors, even the way people walk. He’s gotten to the point where he can read people and their intentions well before they’re explicitly stated, making it much easier for him to spot a lie. However this also makes it much easier for him to tell when he’s truly pushing somebody’s buttons, and there’s nothing he loves more than pushing people past their limit.

Always stealing glances of himself in any mirror he walks past

He’s an opportunistic killer. Limiting himself to patterns clashes with the creativity and the thrill of the moment to him. However, there are specific elements of a kill he will often repeat if the mood strikes him. An example of this would be often including strangulation (albeit usually not the direct cause of death) to reflect his acquired need for control in all moments of his life. Sometimes he will also pose bodies in a “prayer” position to call back that god complex I mentioned.

He doesn’t always kill people immediately. If someone catches his eye, usually because he finds them beautiful in some aspect, he’ll take it a step further. He has no problem with being patient when the situation arises for it- stalking the person, learning their habits and schedules, the whole shebang. He’ll then slowly start to ruin said person’s life, isolating them through the slaughter of those closest to them and destroying any sense of peace and security they once had. He’s the sound that goes -bump- in the night. He’ll toy with his food until he eventually grows bored, disposing them like all the rest. After all, how dare someone else try to be beautiful in his presence- a punishment of the highest order is necessary.

His anger can be very… explosive. He doesn’t stick around very long for enough people besides victims to see it, but it can be as unpredictable as his own kills. It’s worse when he’s silent in his anger however, since with the former you at least have enough of a warning to brace yourself.

Backstory-Centric HCs:

(TW: csa, murder, mutilation, religious trauma, general stuff)

Takes place in college. Jeff is 22 at the start while Liu is 20.

Instead of being a one-off instance, Jeff and Liu have been subjected to bullying/borderline harassment since middle school. This builds up Jeff’s gradual distrust of others and leads to him shutting himself off from his peers.

Most of said bullying revolved around their mixed race situation. It only got worse as Jeff shut himself off and Liu became a people pleaser.

The two didn’t even have peace at home, since their parents were sexually abusive and excused it through their religion. It was “all apart of god’s love” as they said. This + the bullying leads Liu to develop DID and kickstarts Jeff’s resentment towards their parents. It also led Jeff to develop a twisted belief on what love and beauty is since god apparently “favored” the beauty of his parent’s form of “love.”

On one particular instance of bullying/harassment, a small group of people he grew up with planned on jumping and mugging Jeff behind a bar. Things escalated when Jeff retaliated in self defense, beating his aggressors with a nearby pipe found laying against a dumpster. He didn’t leave unscathed however, since one of the attackers dropped a lighter into the flammable materials (alcohol, trash, etc) that had been scattered in the fight, planning on making everyone go down in that moment. Jeff managed to survive (albeit with severe burns along his body) after being found by an employee who went to go check out the noise/smell of smoke, but the others succumbed to their wounds.

While in a heavy state of shock and psychosis (paired with being drugged up out the wazoo at the hospital) his usual unchecked auditory hallucinations worsened, leading his mind to trick him into believing this situation was a sign from god- that he was supposed to survive while his tormentors burned. Paired with his already twisted concepts of love and beauty, he began to believe that his burns were part of god’s plan to make him more beautiful- because he was favored.

This only gets worse when he’s released from the hospital’s custody due to a neglect in checking his mental state. After being sent home with his family and therefore being thrown back into the abusive environment he hoped to escape when going to college he ends up experiencing a psychotic break, mutilating himself in the process.

When his parents catch him, they attack him. In their eyes he had disgraced them, no longer upholding the “beauty” of heaven that they enforced. He ends up killing them in self defense, but furthers it by mutilating their bodies in an act of defiance induced by his break. He believes he’s outdone god in this moment, deluding himself into thinking he’s on the same level (or even better) than god.

While overcome by his psychotic break, he ends up severely wounding Liu after he wakes up to check out the noise. It becomes a conspiracy on if Liu survived or not since his body was never found by authorities.

The reason why Jeff continues on his spree after these instances is the feel of control he gets. After being forced into submission by those around him for so long, he finally feels a stable sense of power over those he deems as less than him.

He ends up wandering throughout the states after this, hopping from town to town. He never stays in one place for long, although sometimes he’ll revisit his home town to give the urban legend fanatics something to fear again.

[lucysarah-c]

I adore writing in Holy Ground, especially when Y/N genuinely worries about Levi. Especially knowing how strong Levi was even as a kid after he awakened his powers.

Like she's saying, "you shouldn't do that, it seems like a lot of effort/strength," because Levi is only what? 5 cm taller than her? In Holy Ground, Levi is just a guy who is apparently good at 3DMG enough for Erwin to bring him around. Levi isn't humanity's strongest soldier. Levi is just … A short guy who happens to have a bit of talent.

I had two scenes, one that didn't make it to the final cut and one I am adding. In one, they thought someone sneaked into the former HQ, and Levi is like "I will go and see, stay here" because … Levi is Levi, not a single poor soul that sneaked inside to steal or anything can actually face him. Meanwhile, she's like "ARE YOU NUTS?! WHAT IF THEY HURT YOU?!"

"They can't."

"Yes they can!!! Don't try to act tough!!!"

And the upcoming one is that Levi (who is still sharing barracks like the rest of the cadets because he hasn't been promoted yet) steps up to stop a fight in the showers. Y/N hears about this and literally scolds him like a kid.

"Don't EVER step up again. If the rest are silly enough to fight in the common showers where they could trip and hit themselves with tiles, with the glass of the mirrors, or worse, the ceramics of the sink and open their heads, that's on them. You don't do that, what if they push you around and you cut your head?!"

"TCH, They couldn't push me around even if they tried,"

"I do not care, it's too risky! I said no. Because I'll be the idiot cleaning your head off of blood if you get hurt! And who is going to pay me back for the anguish I'll go through?"

"They can't win me over, I already told you,"

"I said no,"

"Huh? What, you want me to tell them? No, I can't step in, my girlfriend bosses me around and said I can't?"

"Tell them whatever you want, I don't want it."

"… that's gonna win me a reputation hard to erase."

The mere idea of Cadets later on being like "OMG, Captain Levi is so strong! Worth an entire army!" all fangirling over him. And yet for Y/N, Levi is still "her Levi," and each time he's doing something risky, she's like "Careful! You may get hurt!"

Meanwhile, Levi looks back at her confused, thinking "… I ripped a dude's face when I was 10…"

[joannasteez]

some are made like this

pairing: cm punk x reader warning: explicit descriptions of belt usage. pain kinks! pain as discipline. authors note: he beat drew with a belt... was i just supposed to watch that and be uninspired?! word count: its a 300 word drabble. testing the waters on this one. tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @kill-the-artiste @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling @2-muchsauce

salt on your tongue. fire in your skin. pulsing. stinging. a swirl of something aching in your belly before it unfurls to the balls of your feet. not all tears are made from some unshakeable evil. some are made like this. falling wet to soak your bedsheets like the satisfied runoff of rain. 

the line of your back slips to perform, a beautiful slope that lifts your lower half. trembly legs and soft, raw skin. the heat of the leather teasing. soothes against the pain like it aims to tame the bite of former lashings but threatens with a renewed viciousness all the same. 

you breathe like your lungs are desperate for it. full, unapologetic breaths, shuddered up by a whimper. the metal buckle of the belt tapping cooly against your clit. a dangerous juxtaposition that floods your mouth wet with the need to drool. 

he's being mean. too patient. 

"i apologized". 

you'd done a terrible thing, putting yourself in a position to be used as bait. and the scottish warrior ran with it. shoved the evidence of a thirty second interaction into punk's face. because "even your little lady likes me". a simple, effective twist of the knife. 

and he'd made it a point, to collect and smear the stringy drip of your arousal all over the sting of your inner thighs, like a reminder that you like this. enjoying the quick thrashing tip of his belt and the biting cool of the buckle. 

"fuck, please", a bright, delicate moan. your clit caught running over the bar of the buckle as he strokes it lazily along your slit. his free hand laying over tight to spank at your ass. the skin pliant, easily impressed by the tough make of his anger. his pleasure. his correction. 

his throat humming. tongue hot as it curls to taste the burn he's set in. a simple affection as he kisses along where the brute force of belt and hand has been. lapping closer and closer, towards the throb of your clit that grinds against that cold harsh buckle still. 

"such a pretty little glutton for punishment". 

teeth sinking into round thick flesh. just where your butt curves into your thigh. 

not all tears are made from some unshakeable evil. some are made like this. falling wet to soak your bedsheets like the satisfied runoff of rain.

[isagrimorie]

It’s always frustrating whenever the BAU tackles a case where either the victimology or UnSub has similarities to Prentiss’s background/upbringing but the writers rarely use it to give insights on Prentiss or have Prentiss’s background provide some insights into a case.

As an example, The Performer is an episode featuring Gavin Rossdale as a rockstar whose kayfabe was being a Vampire ala Lestat but fake.

The show could have dove a little into the goth community, a community Emily Prentiss used to be a part of. Did they do that? Unfortunately, no, they hung a lantern on it. The writers had Penelope tease Emily about how she used to dress Goth. Even though, Emily still dressed like one but corporate style.

In the episode, Pleasure is My Business. The UnSub grew up around wealth and privilege and then used sex work to lure her victims.

We discover in Lauren that Prentiss was in a similar enough situation re: Operation Valhalla.

Ala The Americans show, Prentiss used intimacy to get close to Ian Doyle.

Emily Prentiss became Lauren Reynolds because she matched Doyle’s type.

I know the writers had a vague idea of Prentiss’ past only that the writers had breadcrumbs pointing to a rich, mysterious past. They don’t have a crystal ball, but the privileged background could have been a jumping off point for a discussion, an insight to the UnSub’s thoughts.

In the season 16 episode, Orpheus Wrecks, the writers could have again used that case as a way to get more insight into Prentiss’ hidden personal life. As a Politician’s kid, and a somewhat savvy political operator herself, Prentiss would have been as familiar, if more, to the DC wonk space as Bailey was.

Prentiss would also be familiar with the Beltway Elite app even if she didn’t use it herself.

(As a former Spook, the idea of having an app like that in her phone would give Prentiss OpSec paranoia. She would not want her photo distributed everywhere. Being on Politico was enough of a headache for her tbh).

I know Prentiss’ whole thing is she wanted to distance herself from her mother’s political life but she would still have friends and would have known more people as she climbed up the ladder in the FBI.

Other shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Elementary, and Person of Interest almost always use a kernel of similarity/parallelism in their various cases of the week as a jumping-off point to tell a richer story about their characters.

Criminal Minds does but selectively.

This is what makes the show frustrating. You can always tell when the show could have threaded the Case/Monster of the Week and connected the case to one of the characters.

Morgan and JJ also needed more exploration. The only one the writers they consistently use this with is Reid.

To the writer’s credit they have vaguely gestured at Emily’s mysterious past— setting up Emily’s existential crisis about her morality in the face of what she’s done while she worked for CIA and JTF-12.

But then the show goes several episodes mentioning the problem, an arc villain, and it’s frustrating!

(I sometimes lowkey wish some Whedon trained writers joined Criminal Minds to establish a good character-to-case ratio. Like, Jane Espenson. Or someone from Person of Interest writers room joining the Evolution writers team. The idea of Denise Thé writing for the CM ladies makes me yearn because delicious character development + inventive messed up twists. Erica Messer does a good job showrunning— a different job altogether than just writing for the show. But also— I yearn! Think about a POI caliber writer in a CM writers room! It would be so good to have, IMO. Not that PoI was entirely perfect either, I have my frustrations too!)

——

Chris Mundy seemed interested in delving into the internal lives of the characters, especially Emily’s. Demonology was really important for our understanding of Emily Prentiss.

Her guilt, her low-key self-loathing— the way she runs from the people she loves because she thinks she’s not worth it. The way she can conform to be anyone to fit into a situation and not stand out.

Her casual regard for sex as a tool to help her get accepted. All things that were helpful for Prentiss when she became a spy.

As Michael Westen from Burn Notice said: “People with happy families don’t become spies. A bad childhood is the perfect background for covert ops.”

TLDR— It’s just frustrating because they’re always nearly at the cusp of a great character driven procedural but then almost always back off from giving us really good food.

[vasyandii]

PHAYVANH "NAK" SOTSVAHN 🐉🌺

Old Introduction

Nak Reference Sheet

Nak IRL Gear References

NSFW Alphabet (TREAD LIGHTLY)

GENERAL INFORMATION

Status: ACTIVE

Year of Birth: 2000 (Aged 20)

Day of Birth: September 13

Place of Birth: Vientiane, Laos

Race: Lao

Nationality: Laotian

Languages Spoken: Lao, Thai, English, Russian

Occupation: Tactical Assault Operator, Close Quarters Combat Specialist (Chimera Member)

Affiliation(s):

Golden Triangle Cartel (Formerly)

Lao People's Armed Forces (Formerly; Dishonorably Discharged)

Allegiance

Chimera

Physical Appearance

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Black

Height: 5’2”/159 cm

Build: Lean Muscular

Scars: None

Tattoos/ Markings: Large tattoos on left upper and Center of back

BIOGRAPHY

Born in Vientiane, Laos. Living the first 15 years of her life off her uncle's fortune, partaking in the trafficking of illicit narcotics at a young age. The two were close due to them being family, not having many friends due to her uncle's line of work.

Enlisted in the LPAF by her Uncle's wishes to "Carve a better path for herself". Was not liked by her peers for her cocky attitude, overly aggressive tactics, and habit of prioritizing her personal safety over the team.

After 3 years of service in the LPAF, excelling in Close Quarters Combat, dishonorably discharged due to repeated physical altercations among teammates. Spent the next 6 months back to working for Kapano Vang despite his reluctance, eventually fleeing to Urzikstan after an argument with Vang about difference in beliefs, multiple people injured; their relationship has been strained ever since.

During her time her path crossed with Nikolai, in search of work she signed a long term contract with Chimera, with one year of service.

Shown to exhibit signs of social anxiety and difficulty forming close relationships around people her age. Inherited Kapano Vang's short temper in combat, though more relaxed outside of it.

Developed a bond with Syd, seeing her as an older sister. Often paired up with Sebastian Krueger in order to keep them both in line.

Skills and Abilities

Fighting Style: Muay Thai, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

Weapon(s): Whatever is heavy

Distinct Weapon: SCAR FN PDW, Dual Push Blades

Shortcomings: Overly aggressive tactics, focus on personal safety, short temper

Family

Familial Status: Adoptive Niece

Siblings: None

Mother: Adoptive sister of Kapano Vang; (whereabouts unknown, records not found/withheld)

Uncle: Kapano ���Naga” Vang; (Former warlord drug trafficker, formerly in Warsaw Pact)

Relationship with Family: Nak still idolizes her uncle to an extent, but the more that she's out in the world,the more she realizes that he isn't a good person. Nak’s mother wasn’t present in life. Her uncle took her in after mother wasn’t able to care for her. Naga trained her at a very young age; he thought it was best if she was strong in their lifestyle.

Pet: Cat person, never was allowed to have pets but she would throw scraps of food to strays.

PERSONALITY

Myers Briggs Type: ESTJ-T

Nak is an extroverted introvert, she likes and enjoys talking to people, however it drains her energy quickly since she's not used to talking to people in such a casual manner. Things like talking business she’s more used to.

Adaptable

A quick thinker, Nak is able to carry out missions by finding creative solutions to make sure her operations are successful. Outside of the battlefield her adaptability allows her to have better communication with people, even with her social anxiety.

Pragmatic

Nak strives to make the most effective solutions so it’s easier on her in the future. Her decision making skills ensure that she’ll survive in the field and outside of it.

Responsible

Living on her own, Nak is responsible, she can’t relax unless all her work is done beforehand. As she starts forming close relationships with people, she realizes that she likes taking care of people.

Negative Traits

Stubborn

Starting out Nak isn’t a very good teamplayer. She doesn’t like others telling her what to do or how to do things so she’s stubborn in a way that she’s adamant about what she wants but adaptable with what methods are needed.

Judgemental

Her formative years with Naga didn’t allow her to trust people, because of the Golden Triangle Cartel she has a habit of being overly critical of others.

Paranoid Perfectionist

Nak is self-demanding, she doesn’t take failure lightly. This leads to her paranoia of not being properly prepared. She becomes aggressive out of frustration if her ability isn’t to her liking.

TRIVIA

Nak is a shortened version of “phayanak” the mythical water serpent in Laos, it’s also the Lao pronunciation of “Naga” which is her Uncle’s name in the field.

Her face paint draws reference to how snake teeth are shown in Phayanak statues. There are multiple snake motifs in her design. Is the design practical? No, she just likes standing out in that way.

Nak cuts her own bangs (long blunt bangs) she doesn’t trust anyone with cutting them.

Has a lot of upper body and lower body strength; she can lift things heavier than her and calisthenics skills (handstands, full planches, etc.)

Often, most people's First impressions of her is that she's "Unsettling."

[railingsofsorrow]

do you need me?

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where emily's death takes a toll on you. based on the prompt “don't come over, I can handle it.” from this prompt list.

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

w.c: 3.5K

warnings/content: mentions of skipping meals; grief; mourning the loss of a friend; jemily (implied); blood; non-graphic descriptions of violence; character death (mentioned/not the MCs); addiction; intoxication; survivor's guilt; crying; unhealthy coping mechanisms; this is... heavy, be aware.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! I wish that we all have an amazing 2024. here's the blurb you voted for. hurt/comfort at its best <3

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❝ it did not kill me and it did not make me stronger. it simply was and always will be scorched upon my heart. ❞

— d.j

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You don't know who took Emily's death the hardest. Pain is not something that can be measured or compared, people deal with it in different ways. Some are quieter in their grieving, others are loud. And although each one of your teammates knows how to compartmentalize their feelings, there was a fog in their eyes, a heaviness in their shoulders more than usual. Things you could relate well after all that has happened. You wish you didn't. You wished all of that was just a strange and far-off memory.

JJ was different — you noticed it during one of your night outs.

Penelope had forced everyone to hang out after a case, to relax. It had been a few months after what happened to Emily and the team was still... sore. Rightfully so.

Hotch and Rossi left earlier, leaving you, Derek, Spencer, Penelope and JJ at the bar. The only ones who weren't intoxicated were you and Spencer. You were pretty sure the conversation Penelope and Derek were having in their own little world was not PG-13, anyway.

“Do you think she's alright?”

Spencer asked, casting a look towards JJ. It's been half an hour she was nursing a glass of water — you had purposely brought her this one since she'd lost count of her shots —, staring at it with her stare unfocused.

“She will be.” You had said and when he told you he was leaving, you asked if he wanted a ride home. You hadn't drank anything but orange juice. He refused it, hugged you and, before he left, he demanded that you'd let him know once you got home.

You ended up being JJ's designated driver that night.

It was when you first saw a crack through the mask she had put on. Emily and JJ shared a deep bond. You knew their friendship wasn't just friendship, even before Emily had revealed to you that she had feelings for the blonde a while back. When Emily was gone, you saw how JJ took it hard. Not that everyone else didn't as well, but the love from each person in the team carried for Emily was different from the love JJ had for her.

Between the gibberish she was mumbling in the passenger seat of your car, she let escape a faint “I miss her”. Her voice cracked and your heart ached.

“D’ you think...” She muttered as you were helping her into her bed. “D'you think she miss— a hiccup — misses us?”

You refrained from saying that dead people cannot miss anything. Instead, you waited for her to fall asleep, placed a cup of water and aspirin on her bedside table before leaving her apartment.

She pretended nothing happened in the next day and you did the same.

You thought JJ had it worst, until Spencer showed up at your door at 3 a.m craving for something he hadn't touched in three years.

Again, pain is not comparable. One does not hurts more than another; people deal with their hardships in life differently, even if they have gone through the same life-changing event.

Some let it show, others just know how to hide it better. You no longer knew if you were the former or the latter through the eyes of your friends.

The current case you were working on had rendered you mentally exhausted. A victim had been taken hostage and for two days you tried to negotiate with the unsub, but to no avail. You almost had it. Almost. When you thought you had succeeded in releasing the woman, she was shot right in front of you.

She died in your arms and there was nothing that you could have done to prevent.

Or was there?

There was nothing that you could have done. You have heard that before. Countless of times. People tried to inject that into your head as a way to make you feel better. And they have their best intentions, you do not doubt it. But it was no use if you couldn't bring yourself to believe these words.

This was just one of those days, when you didn't know how to cope with that overbearing sadness that crippled your mind.

There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have—

“Hey.”

You flinched, startled at the voice. As you came back to reality, Spencer turned up in front of you.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” His face twitched into a grimace.

You cleared your throat, placing your stuff in your bag. You were so distracted that you didn't realise you had been holding the bloodied shirt you were wearing in the morning; you shoved it inside carelessly. I'm gonna burn it.

“You didn't,” you said. “What's up? I thought you had left already.”

Spencer leaned on the door, fingers playing with the strap of his satchel as he waited for you to leave the room. He followed you to the corridor, an unspoken silence that said a million things. His fidgety hands weren't just mindlessly stimming, he was nervous.

Everyone else seemed to have left, meaning the bullpen was fairly empty. You wondered how long you stayed frozen reminiscing as the minutes went by.

“I was waiting for you.” He responded as soon as the elevator doors closed.

You turned to him with widened eyes. “Why? I'm sorry I kept you waiting—”

Spencer quickly waved you off, “It's alright.” He gave you a soft smile. The one you felt warm inside. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

Oh.

“Of course I am.” You replied and you really hoped the tight smile you gave him was convincing enough for him to not question further. You weren't sure if you'd be able to not crumble down completely if he asked again.

“Are you sure?”

Damn, Spencer.

Yes, everything is good. I just need to get home, take a shower and have a good night sleep without interruptions.

Everything is good.

You don't know how many times you repeated that until he walked alongside you to the parking lot.

Arriving home was all that you needed to let your armour aside. God you were so tired. You didn't even reach your bedroom before the tears came like a waterfall. Falling into your couch, with no strength to stand, you finally stopped fighting against the sadness and let it lead you for the time being.

It's hard trying to be strong all the time, isn't it? Not admitting you need someone to be there for you because you only know how to be there for people. You tell them it's going to be okay. You let them be vulnerable. You say it's okay to not be okay.

Why can't you treat yourself the same way you treat the people around you?

You count every raindrop falling down your window, it helps you focus on reality. It was grounding and a few minutes later you have stopped sobbing your heart out.

It was raining hard outside. When you open the window, the cold slips right in and you stay there, enjoying the wind pushing your hair back.

You dial a familiar number tonight. And you don't hang up after two rings. You think about doing it in the fourth, but the person picks up, apologizing before they say hello.

It actually makes your lips twitch slightly. You don't smile, but you feel like doing it after crying so hard.

“Spencer.” You say through the phone interrupting his incessant apologies for taking too long to answer, your brows creasing after you hear how strange your voice is. “You don't have to apologize. I was the one who called you at one a.m. Why are you even awake?”

“I was reading. Lost track of time. I— have you been crying?” Well, shit. Too much for thinking he wouldn't notice through the phone.

“Why do you ask?” You ask rather pathetically. Why did you call him? Why did you bother Spencer at one a.m when he could be sleeping? You should feel sorry for yourself. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called—”

“I was thinking about you.”

Your breath hitches. You close the window and sit back on the floor and you feel like crying again, you don't know why. Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the fact that he makes you feel everything that you're allowed to feel.

He takes your silence as his cue to continue. “I know how much you love thunderstorms so I...” he trails off as if he's uncertain about what he will say. “I remembered you.”

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Spencer could take pride in saying he knew you better than anyone else.

He recognised the sound of your voice was different when your were excited about a particular topic and when you were discussing a case at work. He knew you brushed your hair behind your ear when you felt shy, but the same action could happen when you were uncomfortable. It heavily depended on the situation.

He was aware of your odd behaviour by the way you kept on touching your index finger throughout the day. The week, actually. Spencer could tell you were bothered by something, he could tell you were deeply upset. You skipped breakfast and you never had lunch with them. Not that past week.

And judging by the dark circles around your eyes, you weren't sleeping well either.

He saw himself in you a month back.

See, Spencer was the kind of person who didn't like being vulnerable around anyone. If anything, he mastered the act of not communicating his feelings, he just expected them to disappear, which didn't happen but he was getting better at understanding that.

After Emily's passing, the only one he opened up to was you. And it was the hardest and best choice he ever made. You made him feel seen. It was so easy to talk to you about anything that he didn't notice until a few days ago that you were a very good listener. Not that he didn't notice that before, no, it was not that. But you just listened. You comforted. You held.

Spencer was really concerned about your coping mechanisms, because he knew he didn't have the most healthy ways of dealing with things. He hoped you were better than him. He hoped you didn't let it build up until you were suffocating.

So when you called him, he wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you. His lie laid on the reading part, he was trying to fall asleep but his concern was keeping him up.

I'm here for you too. He wanted to say. Please, let me be here for you.

“I know how much you love thunderstorms so I...” He sat down on the bed, shifting until he found a comfortable position. “I remembered you.” This is what he started with.

Your ragged breathing through the line cut off his rational thinking. So you have been crying.

He called your name softly.

“Hi. I'm here.” You say, forcing out an exhale.

“Talk to me.” He pleads.

He hears a faint sniffle, “I'm here, Spencer.”

No, you're not. You're far away.

“I'm here too. You know that right?”

“It's been a hard week.” You admit through your shaky voice. “I just needed to hear your voice.” You cut him off quickly. “I know that I saw you a few hours ago, but I—”

“Do you need me?” He was the one who cut you off this time. He couldn't bear you explaining the reason you called. You could call him as many times as you wanted. Every five minutes, every second. He wanted to tell you he missed you when your shift was over for the day even if he spent the entire day by your side, and that you never ever could bother him because he cherished your company. He wanted you close. And he just wanted you to be okay now.

“... It's one a.m, Spence.” There is some shifting through the line, sounds like you were moving around. “I— I can handle it. It's fine.”

“Do you need me?” He repeats, shuffling out of his room to the living room. He couldn't care less that it was one a.m. He found his coat hanged and didn't wait for your answer to put it on. Really, Spencer should have done it sooner.

He's half way on tying his left shoe when you breath out in resignation. Your voice much closer to his ear as if you were telling him a secret you should be ashamed of. “Yes. Yes, I need you.”

He let out a hum, standing up to grab his car keys and sprinted out of his home to go to yours.

“I'll be there in ten.”

You lived twenty minutes away from him, but he'd make in ten. He wanted to see you. More than anything, he wanted to tell you everything that you hadn't heard when you were too busy comforting people instead of yourself.

He stops short before knocking on your door, deciding on sending you a text to let you know he was there so you wouldn't be startled at the noise. He didn't get to click send as the door was yanked open. Your bloodshot eyes and swollen lips are the first thing he sees.

“Hi.” He says, slipping his phone into his pocket. As soon as he did that, your arms envelope his shoulders which caused him to let out a sound of surprise, but he quickly recover and wraps his own arms around you, squeezing your shaky body against his. “Hi.” He utters into the croak of your neck, his hand trailing up and down on your back gently. “I'm wet because of the rain,” he apologises halfheartedly. “Sorry.”

The laugh he hears through your sobs might just have made his day.

He was cold immediately after you slips out of his arms. You pull him inside your place and shut the door, claiming you would be back with a towel despite his protests that he didn't need it.

Spencer lost count of how many times he visited your place. He knew every corner of your apartment, every place you left books that you keep losing when you didn't found them on the shelves, every painting and drawing you had on the walls. The ones he happily convinced you to put on because you made them and they were beautiful, you just didn't believe it.

The two of you spent long hours on your couch, either reading a book and saying your favourite quotes out loud or just watching bad movies and TV shows to pass the time.

He'd ramble on and on about the inconsistencies of any plot and you'd engage in his refutations until you'd disagree and some bantering ensued.

“Here.” Spencer turns around to see you offering a towel for him to dry off. The middle of your forehead furrows slightly, he feels the need to smooth it out himself but he refrains from doing so. “It's dangerous to drive when the weather it's like this. I'm sorry that I made you come all the way here for nothing.”

“Nothing?” He shakes his head as if it's the most absurd thing you've ever said. “You're not nothing.” He accepts the towel and what he recognizes is a jumper of his he must have forgotten a while ago.

When he's completely dry, he walks to the kitchen where you had ventured off to make some tea.

Two mugs are placed on the kitchen counter, the smell of camomile slowly filling the room. You are lost in your thoughts again, mixing the honey in your tea with a spoon for forty-three minutes, your gaze unfocused. Lost.

His fingerstips trails down your wrist to your hand, proceeding to take one of your hands in his, thumb running across your palm. “Can you please look at me?” He requests softly, head tilting until you have no choice but to meet his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It” are a lot of things. But he doesn't know if you feel comfortable enough to talk about all of them tonight. He'll just follow your lead and respect your time.

“I don't want you to see me like this.”

He feels your fingers tighten around his hand and he squeezes back as a form of reassurance.

“Like what?” He can't help but ask. Vulnerable? Human?

“Weak.”

“You could never be weak in my eyes.”

This time, he does smooth down the frown between your brows with his thumb, surprised that you don't reject his touch but welcome it by leaning into his hand.

Neither of you drink the tea. Instead, you move back to the living room, settling down on your couch. You end up cuddling, which wasn't strange because you have done it many times before. Now it just feels more intimate. His hold never strayed from yours. This time, he listened. He comforted. And he held you.

“I'm used to blood, we see it all the time.” you carry on, speaking directly to his chest as he looks down at you. “But I... My hands. There was just so much of it and I couldn't, I couldn't save her.” Your fingers play with the straps of his jumper to distract yourself.

There was nothing that you could have done.

“She knows you did everything you could.” Spencer reassures. He was well aware that you weren't just talking about the victim that you had lost today. “Wherever she is right now...” He lifts a hand to cup your face stroking your cheek with the utmost care in the world. “She knows.”

Your bloodshot eyes study him carefully, searching for any indication that could make you not trust anything he just said. He knew how hard it was to believe that you had no fault in the loss of a friend. Maybe if we had gotten there sooner... Maybe if we had figured everything out sooner...

A little bird told him once that you can't dwell on the past for long or else you'll be stuck in it. And those words — your words — helped on his healing process. He hoped he did the same to you now.

You were laying on his chest, one of your hands positioned right where his heart laid as your other arm involved his middle. His arm wrapped around you as his fingers were trailing up and down your back in the way he knew calmed you down. Spencer felt the most rested he hasn't felt in months and he wasn't even sleeping.

“Tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable.”

He shook his head in response, finding that statement completely absurd because it was not possible for you to make him feel uncomfortable. He's not a fan of PDA, but he found that he didn't mind it with you. So he lowered down on the couch, moving your body with his to be more comfortable, lips grazing your temple in a soft kiss.

“You're not.” He says brushing your hair away from your neck. Your eyes were shut and he could feel your breathing evening out. “Try to sleep a little.” He let out in a whisper to not disturb your peacefulness. He knew you needed it.

“Don't go.” You croak out, tucking your nose in the croak of his neck, breathing into him.

The corner of his lips quirk up. “I'll be here when you wake up.” He promises as thunder rolled outside. Fluttering his eyes shut when you have finally dozed off, he ignores the warnings in his head about sleeping on the couch and how bad it is for one's neck.

No, he could deal with that tomorrow. For now, he would just hold you.

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❝ all I know of strength, I have learnt from breaking. ❞

— sahiba

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taglist: @lilyviolets

[sgtyaraya]

Call of Duty OC

Name: Trudy Saidler

Nikename: Jay

Date of birth: June 01, 1992

Age: 24 (at the time of the events in 2016)

Place of birth: Liberec, Czech Republic🇨🇿

Citizenship: Czech🇨🇿

Nationality: English 🇬🇧

Rank: Sergeant

Specialty: Infantryman

Unit: TF - 141

Family/Relationships

Mother: Adele Saidler (Hofmann) 🇬🇧

Father: Philip Saidler 🇬🇧

Brother: Evan Saidler🇬🇧 ✝️

Love Interest: Gary "Roach" Sanderson🇬🇧💕

Reference/appearance

Trudy on the day she arrived at Credenhill

Parameters

Hair: brown with light strands

Eyes: grey

Pigmentation on the body: freckles

Tattoo: on the left arm

Scars: scratches on the right and left arm, a bullet wound in the left shoulder, suture marks on the right side at the rib level, bullet wounds in the abdomen, cartilage injury of the right ear

Height: 170 cm

Weight: 60 kg

Body type: normal

Equipment

Armored vest: warrior "plates" assault systems

M4A1 assault rifle with a grenade launcher

M14 EBR sniper rifle with silencer for long-range elimination and, if necessary, to cover the group

Pistols: M9 and USP.45

Cold steel: Alpha S D2 knife Tactical Knife and Custom Steel Machete D2 Machete Etsy Knife

Personality

Trudy is a young girl with sociability and good nature. Her attitude towards people depends on how they treat her: if they show a positive attitude towards her, she is a little stubborn. Even so, Trudy is not so trusting, so she does not immediately open up to the interlocutor. Trudy sometimes experiences moments that can cause irritation. And in such cases, she can flare up, allowing her emotions to come out. However, she tries to control her emotions so as not to show them to other people. But Trudy's weakest side is her worries. Everything that she experiences inside herself, she tries to hide from others.

Fears

🔥Pyrophobia🔥is a phobia consisting in a constant, irrational, obsessive, panic fear of fire, fires; an obsessive fear of burning alive, getting burned, or losing property as a result of a fire. (in one of the missions, she almost burned herself in the room in which she was locked, losing consciousness)

Biography

Trudy's parents live in the Czech Republic for most of their lives, they have successfully established their lives in another country, and we can say they have lived in it for most of their lives, and did not want to return to England. Adele Saidler (Hofmann) has opened her own atelier in Liberec, where they now live. The woman is engaged in custom tailoring, previously she was specialized in sewing military uniforms. Philip Saidler is a former infantryman, retired for health reasons, retired, but he helps his wife in the atelier, delivering sewing materials. He also earns a living on the outskirts of the city, but there is no information about his place of work. Before Trudy, they had a son, Evan Saidler [date of birth unknown, died as a teenager, cause of death unknown]. The couple suffered a hard loss, and were very worried about their daughter, who knows about her late brother.

Trudy's childhood, like that of ordinary children, was no different from them. She also had her own hobbies, which her parents reacted positively to, and supported their daughter in every possible way, most importantly. The girl was actively engaged in dancing from the age of 12, from which she developed flexibility, there were even performances on behalf of the school. She also loved to help her mother in the atelier, more often looked after the counter, and thus engaged in needlework, she could also sew some clothes with jewelry. In addition to dancing, Trudy also had hobbies, which she does not mention.

During her student years, Trudy met a girl who was 1 year younger than her, Linda Kovac (Czech). She was always an inconspicuous gray mouse, but Trudy became friends with her on the first day they met, and spent more and more time together. Thanks to her, Linda began to gain self-confidence and even changed her style in order not to fall into the gray mass and stand out somehow. Saidler never sought to attract attention, preferring to wear comfortable and not too bright clothes, and studied like all ordinary students. She needed Czech to learn, so even at preschool age she learned this language, English is considered the main one.

There have been mistakes in Trudy's life, one of them has undermined people's trust. As a student, a guy was in love with her, and he sought her attention in every possible way. The student's infatuation, yes, did not last long. This guy dated her for a joke, enjoyed her trust. After receiving her education, Trudy left Liberec and went to England. After living there for some time, she went to Credenhill, where the selection for group 141 was held. During the trip, Trudy heard other recruits talking about this group, and who is in it, quite big names sounded from the mouths of the guys, which made her interested. Arriving at their base, Trudy did not expect to see the members of the 141 group live. At the time, Captain McTavish was in charge of the selection, and he took up her training in order to make Saidler an experienced fighter. As a rookie, she was sent for additional training to improve her skills and adapt to work in group 141. During her stay at the base, Trudy met Roach, a young sergeant whom she saw on the day of her arrival. At first, things didn't go very well due to distrust, so we gradually communicated. Jay showed a special interest in Roach as a person and wanted to get to know him better, and thus she awakened trust in him. Roach also showed interest in the girl and communicated with her even from a distance. Trudy was very afraid of attachment to people, and hid her sympathy until the last moment, Roach had the same feelings for her. They gradually showed warm feelings for each other.

Participation

Jay began his service under the command of Captain McTavish, took his first part in the Hunting mission, where the goal was to catch Alejandro Rojas, worked in a group with Roach. In the future, she participated in assaults at certain points, provided cover, engaged in inconspicuous liquidation

The history of the creation of the OC

In 2011, I played with COD Modern warfare 2 for the first time. This game has left vivid moments in my memory, from joyful to sad, my favorite mission is "Rock Climber". At that moment, the first character appeared in my head. Since I couldn't draw at the age of 9, I was building a plot in my head. There is an important point, this is the date when I started playing and when I came up with Trudy. This is June 1, 2011, and this date is also Trudy's date of birth.

In her first version, there was no first or last name, I just called her "Emersan", this call sign is taken from another game that I also actively played. As for her appearance, Trudy looked different, not like she does now. In 2018, I visually sketched her portrait, hoping for my memory. Based on this, I decided to change her appearance, and also attached my old works. As time went on, I always wanted to add something, it seemed to me that Trudy was too simple. Although yes, she really was like that. Then, during the redrawing, I already gave her a name. Her name was Trudy "Emersan" Sombra. She later became Jay, the new surname is Saidler. Trudy's redesigns didn't last long, so I changed it again by drawing new references. You can see that she has hardly changed since 2019, there are small changes on her face – freckles and hair color have become darker. Next comes the tattoo. It was a difficult choice, I came up with the first tattoo myself, then I made another, more complex one. The final version was drawn in 2023, and received a reference

Trudy in 2011 to 2022

[mediadollz]

             LUNARIX is a six-member fictional girl group that debuted on July 17, 2023 under ANGELICO Entertainment. Rookies thrown into the UNFORGIVING landscape of the entertainment industry, Lunarix stands out amongst the rest with their UNCONVENTIONAL and QUIRKY sound and concept.

Originally known as "ANGELGIRLZ" during their pre-debut phase, the group faced immediate scrutiny. Their debut announcement quickly followed the disbandment of Angelico's top-performing groups, VENUS and DeepDive. Accusations arose, claiming that ANGELGIRLZ copied Venus' "VENUS PROJECT" with their pre-debut project, "The Angel Project." Angelico chose not to address these allegations.

The negative reception toward ANGELGIRLZ intensified when their leader, Angel, was exposed as a school bully. The group's pre-debut single, "Chu~♡," received a poor response from the public. Following this setback, Angel was removed from ANGELGIRLZ, and her contract with Angelico was terminated.

On their debut date of July 17, 2023, Siyeon, a former DollsWorld member, joined the lineup, completing the current six-member configuration. Despite this addition, Lunarix still struggles to gain widespread public affection and often becomes the target of online hate trains.

Siyeon, the leader of Lunarix, was born on May 13th, 1999 in Daegu, South Korea, to a bustling family of six siblings. Siyeon's path to stardom seemed destined from the start, as she was born under a Waning Crescent moon.

From a young age, Siyeon displayed a big personality and an undeniable need to be on stage, setting her apart from her siblings. Her innate charisma and talent caught the attention of many, earning her the title of the "survival show princess." Siyeon participated in numerous survival shows, consistently making it to the finale but never securing a spot in the final group. Despite this, she remained a beloved contestant among viewers.

SIYEON'S SURVIVAL SHOW RESUME !

KARA Project: RANK 3rd

PRODUCE 101: RANK 18th

IDOL SCHOOL: RANK 17th

MIXNINE: RANK 5th, failed to debut.

UNPRETTY RAPSTAR 2: Third runner-up

THE UNIT: RANK 12th

PRODUCE 48: RANK 14th

GP999: RANK 11th

In 2019, Siyeon finally made her official debut with the group DOLLSWORLD under Stormedia. However, the group's journey was short-lived, with only two comebacks before silently disbanding as all the members terminated their contracts.

Undeterred by the challenges, Siyeon embarked on a new chapter in 2021 when she joined Angelico Entertainment. Alongside her commitment to training, Siyeon continued to participate in various survival shows, showcasing her resilience and determination.

Siyeon became Lunarix's new leader, main singer, and visual after Angel, the group's previous leader, was removed before their debut. Siyeon's strong singing and attractive appearance brought fresh energy to the group and contributed significantly to its identity.

ﾞ . ✩ . ' ۫           INFORMATION!

STAGE NAME :: Siyeon

BIRTH NAME :: Oh Siyeon

Birthday :: May 13th 1999

Zodiac :: Taurus

Birthplace :: Daegu, South Korea

Hometown :: Daegu, South Korea

Ethnicity :: Korean

Nationality :: Korean

Faceclaim :: Lee Yeoreum

Height :: 160 cm || 5′3

Liala Davis was born on January 20th, 1999 in Songkhla, Thailand during a Waxing Crescent moon. She grew up in a home filled with music, as her father was a copywriter and her mother was a journalist and part-time singer. They provided a rich environment full of musical inspiration for Liala to grow up in.

Liala grew up in a musical family. Her mother sang beautifully, and her father played the guitar in his spare time. This upbringing instilled in her a deep love for music. As an only child for much of her life, Liala was often pampered by her parents. Because of this, her friends and family referred to her as "Princess."

During her school days, Liala's fascination with becoming an idol began after she and her friends watched a performance by 4minute on YouTube.

Liala was a natural leader who took charge as the head of her school's dance team. She loved performing and showed her skills and passion to everyone. One day, she caught the attention of Angelico Entertainment and they accepted her into their agency. Liala dedicated herself to training and her exceptional talents quickly set her apart from others. She left Thailand to train in South Korea and while she was away, her parents welcomed another baby girl into the world, making Liala a big sister.

Liala spent three years practicing and improving her singing and dancing skills. Finally, she made her debut as the main singer and lead dancer of Lunarix.

ﾞ . ✩ . ' ۫           INFORMATION!

STAGE NAME :: LIALA

BIRTH NAME :: Liala Davis

Birthday :: January 20th 1998

Zodiac :: Aquarius 

Birthplace :: Songkhla, Thailand

Hometown :: Songkhla, Thailand

Ethnicity :: Mixed ( Black + European )

Nationality :: Thai

Faceclaim :: Madison Bailey

Height :: 175 cm || 5′9

Kim Taerin was born on August 12th, 2000, in Seoul, South Korea. She is a talented individual with a complex past that adds to her intrigue.

Taerin has always kept her childhood a private matter. While there isn't much information available, some internet detectives have uncovered some heartbreaking details. When she was 5 years old, Taerin lost her parents and older brother in a terrible house fire. She was then adopted by a couple in Seoul. She has openly stated that she prefers not to think about her childhood, and the people who raised her are no longer a part of her life.

Taerin struggled with her studies and social life, but found solace in music. At just 15 years old, she began producing music on SoundCloud, showing that she was talented at making beats and melodies. She adopted the name SEEU and started making music for lesser-known groups and Korean hip-hop artists. This helped her grow up fast as she navigated the producer scene.

Taerin faced challenges when she decided to pursue her craft independently at the age of 17. It's unclear how she caught the attention of Angelico Entertainment, but this was a turning point in her life. Under Angelico's guidance, Taerin worked on her image and kept most of her past hidden.

She'd debut in Lunarix as their main rapper, lead vocalist, and producer.

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STAGE NAME :: Taerin

BIRTH NAME :: Kim Taerin

Birthday :: August 12th 2000

Zodiac :: Leo

Birthplace :: Seoul, South Korea

Hometown :: Seoul, South Korea

Ethnicity :: Korean

Nationality :: Korean

Faceclaim :: Kim Suhyun

Height :: 173 cm || 5′8

Evangeline Rostova, who goes by Evie, was born on June 5th, 2001 in Vladivostok, Russia, during a Full Moon. She is the second of three children in a family of academically talented siblings. Evie confronted the challenge of distinguishing herself among her siblings, but found her true strengths in dance, singing, and gymnastics. Despite not being great in academics, her mother was pleased with her gymnastics talent.

Evie was a successful gymnast at the age of 17, with a good chance of making it to the Olympics. However, she decided to leave her gymnastics career behind and go to Korea. She wanted to train with Angelico Entertainment, a prestigious training company.

Evie's pursuit of her dreams had consequences. Her mother didn't support her and cut off all communication, calling her a disgrace. However, Evie remained in touch with her siblings.

Evie was a talented performer in the Korean entertainment industry. She nearly secured a spot in the popular girl group VENUS and worked on other projects with Angelico Entertainment. After much anticipation, the time came for her to make her highly-anticipated debut.

When Evie joined Lunarix, she took on three roles: Main Dancer, Lead Singer, and Rapper. Her versatile talents added an extra flair to the group, making their performances even more dynamic and captivating.

ﾞ . ✩ . ' ۫           INFORMATION!

STAGE NAME :: Evie

BIRTH NAME :: Evangeline Rostova

Birthday :: June 5th 2001

Zodiac :: Gemini

Birthplace :: Vladivostok, Russia

Hometown :: Vladivostok, Russia

Ethnicity :: Russian

Nationality :: Russian

Faceclaim :: Nova

Height :: 157 cm || 5′2

Jang Yoomi was born on October 10th, 2001 in New York City. She moved to Ulsan, South Korea when she was seven years old. Yoomi faced challenges during her move, including her shy personality and difficulty learning Korean since she had not spoken the language before. She was born during a Last Quarter moon and started her life in a fast-paced environment in the United States.

Yoomi and her siblings grew up in a family of successful business owners and CEOs. They went to the most prestigious private school in Korea. Despite being academically strong, Yoomi had a difficult time adjusting to the new environment. Her limited Korean skills and introverted personality made her a target for bullying and harassment. The situation reached a boiling point when she suffered a broken nose and cracked ribs from a particular incident.

Yoomi's parents decided to withdraw her from school due to the worsening situation. They wanted to ensure that their daughter was in a safer environment, so they used their connections to secure her a trainee position at Angelico Entertainment. This change was aimed at providing Yoomi with a more supportive setting to develop her talents. Yoomi continued her schooling online and thrived in her role as one of Angelico's top trainees, demonstrating her resilience and determination.

She officially debuted in Lunarix as their main dancer, lead rapper, and vocalist.

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STAGE NAME :: Yoomi

BIRTH NAME :: Jang Yoomi

Birthday :: October 10th 2001

Zodiac :: Libra

Birthplace :: New York, New York

Hometown :: Ulsan, South Korea

Ethnicity :: Korean

Nationality :: Korean-American

Faceclaim :: Lee Chaeryeong

Height :: 162 cm || 5′4

Navi Pandya was born in Odisha, India on November 7th, 2002, under a Waxing Crescent moon. Despite her young age, Navi has an impressive portfolio that showcases her commitment to her craft.

Navi's early childhood is not widely known, but it is known that dancing was an essential part of it. She was inspired by her four sisters who were all accomplished dancers themselves, and she aspired to be like them. Navi was influenced by K-pop bands such as Wonder Girls and Miss A, and started her trainee journey under JYP Entertainment.

Navi first appeared on the K-pop scene through the reality show SIXTEEN where she competed to become a member of the group TWICE, but unfortunately didn't make it. She didn't give up and later participated in Produce 101, where she ranked fifth and went on to debut with I.O.I. Navi won the affectionate nickname "nation's baby" for her performance.

Navi's career came to a halt after I.O.I. She was expected to debut with ITZY, but a disagreement over her contract with JYP changed things. She joined FLOWERBANK Entertainment but faced challenges with mismanagement of her solo career and several promised group debuts that never happened. This period led to a decline in the momentum gained during her I.O.I days.

In 2022, Navi made a significant move by joining Angelico Entertainment, marking a turning point in her career. Debuting with Lunarix as their main dancer, center, and lead rapper in 2023.

ﾞ . ✩ . ' ۫           INFORMATION!

STAGE NAME :: Navi

BIRTH NAME :: Navi Pandya

Birthday :: November 7, 2002

Zodiac :: Scorpio

Birthplace :: Odisha, India

Hometown :: Odisha, India

Ethnicity :: Indian

Nationality :: Indian

Faceclaim :: Sriya Lenka

Height :: 170 cm || 5′7