#alisha gray

[aghhtdraws]

Jade Armor sketchbook doodles! Mostly studies of screenshots/moments. Just some recent ones from the start of the month. I've slowly come back to obsessing over my old pencil + marker technique I used a ton as a tween, and now over the last few years I've begun to use it more.

[aces-of-jade]

"Presentation de Personnages" - Lan Jun + Family and Friends - instagram post covers for Jade Armor promo videos! (in french)

[dazeddreamsss]

Oh the dream is back in BABY!!

[moon-river-me]

when it's alpha hot female x nerdy loser with no rizz.

[archive-folder]

[fruitbasketball]

wnba recap 7/5

i’m feeding y’all tn damn bruh

dallas wings vs atlanta dream

i actually could not give a fuck less about these two teams to be honest with you like they’re THE most painful teams to watch and/or recap but imma do it for y’all!

“wings pick up 5th win of the season” LORDDD satou you are MISSED girl 💀💀💀

rike bro meet efficiency! shake her hand! get acquainted and stop shooting 1-7 FROM FUCKING 3!!!! jacy sheldon thank you - 17 points on 50% shooting.

atlanta fucking dream if y’all play w henny again bro i SWEAR to god. thank you tina charles, great game alisha gray, nicely done haley jones - matter of fact, both starting lineups contributed evenly. hm. not as painful. but i’m watching you fuckers.

las vegas aces vs los angeles sparks

now imma go out on a limb here and say miss dearica hamby’s 28/14 double double is a large part of why this game went to OT. HELLOOOOO aari mcdonald man i haven’t thought ab aari mcdonald since 2021 nicely done.

i miss chelsea at full health bro i can’t even look at her stat line holy fuck take it away. syd w 1 min 😭 fuckin personality hire lord. cut the shit bro mvp a’ja rn are you joking. maybe don’t take any more 3’s tho 💀💀 that’s all you otherwise girl

yeah this is why the aces concern me sometimes because like… this should’ve been signed and sealed by the 3rd quarter but these mfkers are getting sent to OVERTIME LORDDDD

seattle storm vs. chicago sky

y’all seen jordan horston been on one lately??? think she had a double a couple games ago but she got 20 tn on 73% SHOOTING BRO. as a GUARD. ezi ate down (ignore fgp) (and 3pfg) YESSSSS GIRL YESSS EZI

sami shitcomb please switch sports, nika didn’t even SMELL the floor tn, paige madison bueckers - quit going to games. and making people lose. please dude. stay the fuck home.

CHENNEDY CARTER 30 PIECE!! ANGEL REESE DOUBLE DOUBLE!! ANGEL WITH 2 MADE THREE’S!!!!!!

anyway great night 👍🏽 lots of exciting things gearing up for this all star break n shit so stay tuned :)

[juregim]

things i've watched/read and liked in September '24

Articles/Essays

for the articles behind a paywall, i recommend 12ft.io

‘Am I a Snob Or Is He a Simpleton?’ by Ask Polly

At Home With the Marquis de Sade by Francine du Plessix Gray

Brat Summer Is Dead, Long Live Brat Summer by Arielle Gordon

Decolonization is not a metaphor by Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang (reread)

Desire, Dopamine, and the Internet by L. M. Sacasas

Good Girl by Michelle Albanes-Davis

'I Can't Decide What I Truly Want!' by Ask Polly

Innovators, coolhunters, and recognition by Style Analytics

Letter from a Region in My Mind by James Baldwin

my life is boring by Jenny Clark

Resisting simulations of the self by McKenzie Wark

THE CULTURAL REVISIONISM INDUSTRY by R. E. Hawley

The New Generation of Online Culture Curators by Kyle Chayka

Well, are we living in a simulation? by Amy Francombe

What Self-Awareness Really Is (and How to Cultivate It) by Tash Eurich

Youtube

a deep dive into the impact of 9/11 on pop culture by culture kitsch

booktok, brainrot, and why it’s okay to be a hater by alisha not alihsha

Claire Saffitz Makes the Most Delicious Pastry: Kouign-Amann | Dessert Person by Claire Saffitz

How Do Female Artists Paint Women? by Behind the Masterpiece

LOLITA: The Worst Masterpiece by Horses

The Incredibly Satisfying Downfall of Vice by Moon

The Sound the CIA Doesn't Want You to Know About by CHUPPL

There Are Mountains in the Clouds by Horses

This Video is About Brain Rot by Malik Peace

Books

i have some of the books as epubs (*) and i can send them over to you if you want

Angels Before Man (reread), Angels and Man by Rafael Nicolás *

In the Miso Soup by Ryu Murakami *

Madonna in Black: A collection of short stories by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa

The Dangers of Smoking in Bed by Mariana Enriquez *

The Memory Theatre by Karin Tidbeck *

The Shepherd King duology (One Dark Window, Two Twisted Crowns) by Rachel Gillig *

The Wretched of the Earth by Frantz Fanon (reread)

Wintersleep by Kenzo Kitakata *

[equalhealerr]

Alisha Gray is so underrated 🔥

[gardens-of-may]

ENTRY ONE - beginning to chap. 8

spoilers ahead

i feel bad for avery 

i don’t like drake

is he a pedo? 😒

oh okay grayson shows up???

what does he look like?

a blond with gray eyes?

WHY IS HE SMIRKING 

libby is mmmm

oooh fancy

a lil bored

what is warm nuts?

who is this alisha girl? 🤨

“don’t lose your heart to a hawthorne.”

i have a feeling that’s exactly what’s going to happen 

oh alisa doesn’t like gray?

there’s four right? grayson, jameson, nash, and alexander?

xander is the baby, okay

i like secret passages!

avery and grayson?

skye???

i’m confused 

jameson… hmmm

end of chap. 8

[aghhtdraws]

"Xinyan's Bamboo" very silly and kinda ridiculous fanfic idea I had this year while rewatching (there's a Xinyan in every episode)

I'll make this a proper comic later xD

Basic premise: do you think the Ye family harvest Xinyan's bamboo shoots for food? (bamboo shoots are a popular or common ingredient in many asian dishes)

[mer-acle]

hiii you said you wanted to draw alisha yesterday (OH MY GOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAA) and I thought I should describe her a little to make it easier i guess. (Also I was gonna do this yesterday but I got sick :( ) (also you absolutely dont have to draw her if you changed your mind)

Okay let me start with 16 year old alisha. She has blond shoulder length hair that is wavy. Usually puts it in a ponytail. Gray eyes. (She is so good at doing the puppy eyes btw) Very full of life smile. She wears the camp tshirt but it has embroidery of little animals mushrooms swords etc over it (more towards the bottom) There is definitely an owl there hehe. They are not perfect but she loves doing them and they still look pretty good. She has brown shorts, probably to her knees and also filled with embroidery. (Most of her clothes are filled with embroidery like this. kinda like doodles) Very cute small earings. An owl necklace. Ohh and she has this belt thing to carry her sword (a xiphos so around 50-60 centimeters I think) and extra pockets. (There is also 16 year old alisha after her quest. Aside from a really nasty wound on her left shoulder -claw marks going in deep- , some necessary bandages for said wound and a smile that doesnt reach her eyes anymore there isnt much difference. Her clothes are bit torn so she probably changed them ig) ooh lastly 3 beads at her camp necklace (every kid has one & the amount of beads accounts to the summers they've spent in camp)

Jumping to 20 year old alisha -> dark brown hair with the roots undone for a while (she's been neglecting it). Hair very messy and short, a bit past her chin, more wavy since its shorter. The fronts of it are tied into a little bun so it doesnt obscure her vision. Very tired, has eyebags for ages. Doesnt wear the camp tshirt but instead a dark brown shirt that covers up most of her chest and shoulders with long flowy sleeves. Earthy colours, lots of green and browns. Kinda witchy clothing. Loves capes. They are her favourite. Also all of her clothes now have a thousand handmade hidden pockets in them. A light brown flowy skirt past her knees with flower embroidery at the hem. A belt for her sword ofc. (She keeps a lot of knives hidden in her clothes too) No owl necklace :< Seven beads at her camp necklace. Also she has this golden cuffs at her wrists, its colour almost looking toxic and painful to the eye, that kinda travels under her skin like bones made of sharp glass or like how tree roots go under the earth ig. (Yes it is the lightning. Yes it is excrutiatingly painful. Yes it has been on her for over a year. Yes it is slowly making its way up her skin.) Its probably 10 centimeters up her wrists rn. Though we mostly cant see it bc she covers it up with her sleeves. Just glimpses of it really.

Anyway this was it I cant wait to see what you do if you do end up drawing her. Its such an honour like aaaaaaaaaaaa

*munching on the sweet delicious lore* nom nom

Also I hope you're feeling better

I literally love all of this I am very excited to draw her I have a pose idea already fbejdbdj (I was hoping she had a sword so it would work lol)

Some notes for now:

The embroidery??? How cute is that????

"loves capes" my girl has good taste

"no owl necklace" soul shattered

The lightning dhdbufbk. OBVIOUSLY it's traveling Jesus fucking Christ Eve 😭 (I love it)

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Abby's Basic Info

Name: Abigail Rose O’Brian

Abby's faceclaims were pretty easy, actually. For the 60s - Patty Duke (The Patty Duke Show); the 80s - Ally Sheedy (The Breakfast Club); the 90s - Natalie Portman (Star Wars); and now - Isabella Sermon (Jurassic World).

Nicknames: Abby, Abs, Pinkie Pie (not only a My Little Pony reference as she was addicted to it as a child, but also due to her wearing shades of pink more than any other color)

Age: 14

Date of Birth: December 13

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Birthstone: Turquoise

Nationality: Native American, Irish, and French-Canadian

Sexuality: Lesbian (closeted)

Birthplace: Elliot Hospital, Manchester, New Hampshire

Current Residence: Gray Road, Sanbornton, New Hampshire

Occupation: High school freshman and goalie on the local soccer team 

Talents/Skills: Acting, memorizing just about anything, getting good grades despite not studying, and telling terrible puns

Birth order: Middle

Siblings: Vivien (older) and Oliver (younger)

Parents: Damien Lucas O’Brian and Chelsea Alisha Mays

Signature:

Height: 5’3”

Race: White

Eye Color: A brown and green blend

Hair Color: Brown if she has it cut short, but it looks dirty blonde if it’s long

Glasses or contact lenses: Though she is the only one in the family who doesn’t need them for some reason or another, Abby wears them to feel closer to her family

Distinguishing features: Two streaks of colored hair framing her face that normally match the season/upcoming holiday (orange for Halloween, red and green for Christmas, pastels for Easter, etc)

Mannerisms: Using pencils as hair ties, spinning her rings, muttering to herself to keep her thoughts in order, and constantly licking her lips despite always having a Chapstick with her

Health: She has eczema on her hands, anxiety related to school, and a binge-eating disorder coupled with high metabolism

Hobbies: Photography, reading, watching 80s movies, imagining herself on Broadway, and playing ukulele 

Greatest flaw (in their opinion): How much she relies on other people’s opinions of her. While Abby doesn’t really care much what her friends think of her, her family’s opinions of her mean more than she’d ever let on. Oliver has always been there for her (despite those glorious 13 minutes while he was still in the womb) and his opinion of her has never changed, which she’s more than grateful for. Her dad adores her and treats her with respect and love, something she admires him for to no extent. The only people she worries about - whether they know it or not - are Vivien and their mother. While she definitely looks up to her mother (which I elaborate more on in her fears), their relationship is rocky at best. She feels pushed in the direction her mother wants her to go instead of being loved for who she is and what she wants. Vivien, thankfully, is the opposite of that. Abby has idolized Vivien for as long as she can remember and has tried following in her footsteps for just as long. They spend evenings together, watching old movies and just hanging out and, though they both have friends of their own, Abby loves the times when she can just sit with her sister and ignore the stress of the world. Though they’re very close, Abby’s respect and idolization of her sister has made it ridiculously hard for her to take any constructive criticism Vivien gives her. This one-sided strain has made it exceedingly hard for Abby to tell Vivien much about her personal life, any struggles she might have, her relationships, and her sexuality despite knowing her sister would accept her no matter what - leaving her feeling somewhat isolated from everyone.

Best quality (in their opinion): How versatile she can be. As long as she puts her heart into something new - ukulele, bass guitar, studying new subjects, trying new sports - she can become great at them. She loves trying new things, but the idea of not being great at something stops her from venturing too far out of her little bubble of comfort.

Biggest fear: Imperfection. Though Vivien was the oldest and most esteemed child in their younger years, once the oldest of their family came out and started being her own person, their mother turned all her focus onto Abby, forcing her to be the golden child. Perfect grades were a must, gold medals and academic awards had to be won, and if something wasn’t done to her mother’s standards, Abby could feel dread settling in her bones. Though her mother never screamed at her, the disappointment and subsequent silent treatment were enough for her to know that she wasn’t good enough. She dreads the day when she has to come out to her mother because, despite her mother saying she's now perfectly fine with having two screw-up children in the “alphabet soup community,” Abby can’t imagine what will happen when her only remaining golden child comes clean. On top of that, what will happen when she finds out that Abby wants to be a theatre major instead of a lawyer? Until she turns 18 and can leave, Abby is perfectly content pretending to be her mother’s perfect child. Besides, it’s what she’s good at, right?

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Favorite ice cream: Cherry Blossom

Favorite color: Peach

Favorite number: She doesn’t necessarily have one, but she loves Friday the 13th (not just because of the movies or her birthday), so that would most likely be her answer

Favorite songs: girls by girl in red, I’d Rather Be Me from Mean Girls the Musical, and all-american bitch by Olivia Rodrigo

A place they want to visit: Berlin, Germany

[cymorilcinnamonroll]

Ibis - A Book of Enoch Watcher x Human Romance

In the Land of Nod fruits were plentiful, if bruised, and fragrant rains often poured. We watered our gardens, our trees, through a maze-like irrigation system that Forbearer Adam had taught Grandmason Cain, and Cain passed down to us. I recited my morning song, invoking my patron goddess Asherah:

“Oh, the fabled Cainites— whom Yah’s favored Sethites hate! Our men of renown, bound to the earth and her green yields, worshipping at the altar of strange gods. Mammon— industry; Moloch— empire; the port wine-stain feathers shaped like wings of rawhide upon our scarlet backs! ‘Industrious Cainites, cavort for us— wilt thou part the bloodied rose?’ the kings of foreign lands plead, “Dance the whip and flaming sword! Show us what sin is sweet on your tongue. Kiss away our sorrows and wipe away our tears, sweet Kohonet daughters of Cain!”

I accompanied the morning ritual to Asherah as dawn broke with the clash of my cymbals, naked at her altar enriching her sanctuary of beauty and fertility. My magick rippled throughout Nod, blessing both harvest and land, and I went to my palatial bedroom connected to Asherah’s inner chambers to ready for the morning.

 “Sweet Lady, give me patience to deal with my little cousins, Istehar and Naamah,” I sighed, making a Tawu over my heart with thumb and middle fingers interlocked in an X. Lazily, I admired my wing-shaped birthmark in the mirror as I clothed myself in a gray layered dress, stitched with pomegranates interred within black, Egyptian glass beads. My aerial port wine-stains were shaped like an owl’s, spread from my elbows in fine feathery traces up to the nape of my neck. It was the fabled mark us Cainites bore; but to keep off misfortune or to attract it, I was never sure.

“I hate early mornings,” I sighed, “I have a feeling in my bones that the foundations of our world will shake. Perhaps High Priest Elizander is gambling heaven and earth with that errant angel again? I hope papa has not lost more money over craps or scarab races with them, dear Lady!” Papa owned a great temple and ten-thousand-cubit estate on the outskirts of Ken ha Gadol; it was the Kingdom of Nod’s finest palace, save his brother’s matriarchal sanctuary the Kohonet, ruled under the thumb of the wizened Rahab.

 “Oh crap, I was distracted! I forgot the last part in my invocation for rain,” I sighed, preparing myself as I sang an old song I had learned from Nod’s High Priestess, Rahab, Queen of the Kohonet:

Mammon, empire! They are men of renown, the Canaanites! Men of giant stature, men of sages and might— their women of beauty, science, and song! As comely and brave as bulls the maidens all, as sandstone skinned as the great wind-worn sculptures in the desert!

I was summoning the old gods of the blood, as was my duty as Lady of Ken ha Gadol, and the spirits scraped at the back of my skull like a crow pecking pomegranate seeds. My patriotism swelled, and with war gathering on the horizon I shrilly cried the last verse in a toga that held both a ripe fig and bottle of wine, ready to loose red juice and blood at any moment, beating my breast in a frenzy that would make the First Architect Cain proud:

Life in Nod is sweet, as sweet as gristle on bone. Scorned of all Creation the Canaanites are, yet blessed by the Sitra Achra! Watch our demons cavort! Sing of our many conquests! Name the line of Kohonet priestesses and kings! Atop snowy Mount Zephon, watch as we topple the sky!

Only the Assyrians could rival our cruelty; the Egyptians, our majesty; the Minoans, our mystery.

I sent breakfast to Elizander as I wandered out to Asherah’s orchard at our palace at the base of Mount Zephon. Alisha of Chavah’s seed I was, she who was Samael’s beloved; I was a Kohonet-trained priestess, formed in the crucible of sisterhood, of blood, bark, and wine. Under Queen Rahab my birthmark had blossomed, and the secrets of Asherah— as well as serving the nation— had been drummed into my head like the thump of a war-drum.

“How is breakfast, my Alisha?” papa asked while a servant brought us garlic, herb omelets, challah, and dates. I drizzled honey on a loaf, drinking it down with some saffron tea. The fine brick walls of our home had high ceilings with windows made of costly Egyptian glass that, when opened, let drafts of sweet oasis air in. “Wonderful, papa. Say, does the High Priest have need of me today?” I asked, yawning.

 Papa smiled. He had a face scarred by a Sethite prince’s sword, but was otherwise greying and handsome. After mama’s passing, papa took a harem, yet never remarried—she had been his one true love. I tried to stay clear of his consorts.

“Keep an eye on the Watcher atop Mount Zephon, Elizander says.”

I nodded, my mood souring. Things were changing, east of Eden: Watchers made camp atop mountains by the smatterings of cities and towns that ringed King Ahrand’s country, his holdings, like glimmering rubies. Cymballed Naamah led them, alongside peerless, virginal Istehar, with their lovers Azazel and Samyaza. Oh, how I despised my impish, coquettish cousins!

 The Watcher of our town, Baraquiel, had set up camp on Mount Zephon, above the ornate, carved cave where hoary High Priest Elizander so divined. We entertained my Uncle, King Ahrand and Cousins Naamah and Istehar often; I did not have to work the land: I could have gone into the Kohonet like smiling Naamah and gorgeous, virginal Istehar if I wanted.

“Sister Alisha, come dance with us! Your hair is the reddest of us all, like flame across an amber night. We shall teach you the secrets of Lady Lilith and her starry Lilim, where there are men of pleasure and Watchers to delight our every wicked craving. Why, just yesterday Azazel crushed malachite into a fine powder to paint my bronzed lids, and for Istehar, Samyaza fashioned a bracelet of onyx and polished jewels to affix over her tanned wrist," Naamah had burbled; they were always begging me to join them.

I shook my head, remembering their incessant prattling last week— oh, goddess forbid I had to play hostess to them again!

I sat idly by after having finished harvesting palms, fruits, and nuts, as my labor on the estate farm was done for the day and my midwife’s herbs dutifully replenished; Elosha, my childhood best friend, was to give birth the town over next week according to her moon chart. And without warning there came a great wind racking up golden dust in the damp soil, shaving scruff from the wheat. I looked beside me to find that I was not alone at my favorite fretting place; the Worry Rock, as I called it. No, there was an angel, an angel of might and of

handsome mien to boot; he wore skin in midnight’s particular hue, eyes that shone like lapis lazuli, and was decorated with luxurious curls of white-turquoise hair that fell to his waist in braids. The angel held an astrolabe in his hands, charting the early morning stars that had stubbornly refused to set.

“To what do I owe the honor, introverted Watcher?” I teased. Our town misfit angel, Baraquiel, kept to himself; it was said he abhorred women and had refused every temptation Samyaza and Azazel had lured him to the Kohonet with. As for us humans, Baraquiel would only talk in whispers to High Priest Elizander. The fact that I was, in my dirtied state, the first woman he had probably laid eyes on in years, mattered very much to me.

I had my vanity, after all.

“Rain is coming today. Lightning strikes. It boils my blood, stirs my wings to ride aback the wings. That is the problem of sin, comely daughter of Chavah— Azazel’s wings are withered, having strayed too far from the Father, and Samyaza rots not long behind.” I crossed my legs, admiring his wings— ibis, like I saw on trips to Egypt with papa. “And yet, Samael and Lilith are still whole, and they have flown long after leaving Yah’s paternal court,” I pronounced.

Baraquiel winced. “Do not speak to me of the ways of God: you are a heathen. What would you know of my Father?” His inquisition rent my heart into ire and iron, and I rebuked him.

“Quite a lot, actually: I’m a Kohonet-trained qodeshah. I tend the sanctuary of Asherah, and nurse her sacred groves. I midwife babes, heal the sick and heal the lame with my sacred herbs and unguents, dancing for our kingdom’s rains.” Baraquiel smiled. His teeth gleamed sharply, his

midnight skin shining starlike with dew. “Isn’t qodeshah what Father’s humans call whores?” I winced. “That is not the heart and soul of our practice, Baraquiel. Indeed, we tend to the men

once a year at the Festival of Atargatis, turning away neither ugly nor old, sick nor poor from our patient breasts. That is how Lilith and Chavah love: given freely, humbly, like mothers— their suitors as if their own kin. The Sethites gossip a lot, but their lies about Cainites are rumors: they hold neither sting nor vinegar.”

Baraquiel twisted one of his intricate braids, laden with bronze beads. “So, then, would you not turn me away?” I blushed, and Baraquiel looked at me hungrily, like a lion waiting to pounce.

“It is many moons until the Festival of Atargatis…but I would be happy to show you Asherah’s grove.”

“You want me, Alisha. It is etched in sinful Cainite daughter’s bones to tempt angels. Why I signed that pact with damnable Azazel is repugnant to me. ‘Take a wife,’ he said, but the Kohonet was stifling— all those oudh-clad ladies barely clothed? Not like you, Alisha. That dress— it suits you well. Stately. Modest. Good for farming— good, in fact, for flying.”

“I do not want you!” I blushed, but I was certain he always saw me admiring him from my palace chambers as he made his daily walk to High Priest Elizander, where they gambled over dice; playing craps with a cantankerous, wheezing elder was not how I imagined I would spend eternity, if given the chance. Once, Baraquiel and father had raced scarab beetles. Papa lost and refused to see Baraquiel again; I could surmise papa forfeited quite a sum of money. In the morning Baraquiel appeared jolly at Elizander’s door with casks of fine Minoan wine, and by then it was not hard to guess where papa’s money went.

Baraquiel smirked. “You are a qodeshah, my Alisha. A heathen. It does not matter what you want, does it? It only matters what Azazel and Naamah deem you fit for.”

I scowled. “You are coarser than sand, Baraquiel, and are ignorant of our ways. I’ll let it be known that I have never done a dance with a Watcher.”

“Not even shy Samyaza?”

“That lunatic is just pining after closed-leg, prissy Istehar! I can’t stand the lot of them! Naamah is spoiled, and Istehar is a shrew.”

“And I cannot stand my fallen brothers. So what does that make us, dearest Alisha?”

“In a pickle.”

“I like to eat pickles; they are one of humanity’s finest creations. That does not sound so bad.”

We were leaning against each other by now, some sort of animal magnetism drawing us together, or simply us bonding over both being irascible, ornery bastards. I was not too sure which it was.

“Where does an angel get pickles from, Baraquiel?” “Elizander makes them. You really should talk to him more. He is wise. In fact, just yesterday he told me how to ingest Syrian rue so as to experience strange visions.”

“You’re doing drugs with an old man?” I laughed. “What did you mean, then, when you said ‘my dress was made for flying’?”

Baraquiel smiled. “Shall I show you, Alisha?” He lifted me gently but sturdily into the air as we set off flying. The air was sweet, warm, and thick, the clouds damp but not clinging, and his great ibis wings spread out like war flags.

“I could get used to this, Baraquiel.”

“Call me Baraq.”

We took to playing craps with Elizander.

Over time, I built up stamina to visit Baraquiel’s camp atop Mount Zephon. Always, we went flying, and over time, he fell from the stars for me like Lucifer struck down from heaven, in love with a comely daughter of Cain. We worshipped Asherah and danced for Samael, and made love for Lilith and Chavah. I found myself with child by the third month, and Baraquiel dropped his pickle mid-bite out of sheer joy.

“I will have to be a little more careful when you fly, then.”

The rains came that night with a loud thunderstorm, filling Nod’s wells for years to come. The canals were brimming with fertile waters, freshly churned soil, and loam. Baraquiel, the angel of lightning, was like a weathervane, the winds responding to his moods. We made plans to marry, and Rahab blessed us on our first journey to the Kohonet together. Naamah was ripe with her second child, and Azazel lingered at the edges like a black ink-stain, scheming.

That night, Baraquiel’s feathers began to fall out, one by one, like snow atop Mount Zephon.

By the fifth month, my husband had Elizander cauterize his dead ibis wings from his back.

“Where I’m going, as father to the fruit of my seed, I won’t need any marks of my old pact with Yah,” Baraquiel simply said, caressing my swollen womb as I cried over his lost bit of heaven.

Samyaza had finally had enough of Istehar refusing his advances; she asked him the Secret Name of Yah, escaping his assault by flying to the stars. Yah, taking pity on one of the Cainites for what might have been the first time in eternity, changed Istehar into a constellation. They came to call her the Star Maiden. Samyaza hung himself the next morning, and Yah made his death a starry tomb; you may know him as Kesil the Hangman. What it took for an angel to die, I did not wish to know.

The Nephilim, our children with the Watchers, grew fast if they were conceived out of lust, not out of love. Baraquiel and I heard rumors every day that they were giants, full-grown in a year, and Azazel and Naamah were setting their scions and the Kohonet’s other half-angel offspring as lords over our enemy the Sethites. And then the Nephilim turned on Nod.

First the Nephilim ate the cattle. Then they ate the sheep. Finally, the goats and pigs. When even that was not enough, the Nephilim turned on man. Azazel and Rahab had lost control, and the Land of Nod fell into misrule and infamy. Elizander, papa, his consorts and servants, Baraquiel, Elusha’s family and I fled to Egypt, carrying as many riches as we could to start life anew, and just in time at that, for Raphael was sent to bind the Watchers hand and foot in Dudael.

After that, Samael sent a flood, a great drowning of his son Grandmason Cain’s land, to wipe the Nephilim off the face of the earth.

All but one.

I gave birth to a girl with ibis wings, lapis lazuli eyes, amber skin, and red hair: Sarai. Elusha was her godmother, and we cut her wings like the Sethites circumcise their children.

Baraquiel has taken to dyeing his white-turquoise hair with henna. We work as scribes and gardeners, and I serve as a priestess of Qadesh— the name of Asherah in this foreign land. Every year I serve my goddess. I turn away no man, young or old,

Greek or Egyptian or Sethite, African or Assyrian. But it is a bitter service, and all I can do is think of Baraquiel, my dear husband, as the strangers ruthlessly spear into me from above.

One day, in our large house by the Nile, Sarai was playing with seashells, and I looked over at Baraquiel— still beautiful, but more mortal than he had ever been— and I squeezed his hand, asking him “Was it worth it? Leaving Heaven, leaving your holy post atop Mount Zephon, taking a heathen bride?”

Baraquiel smiled like it was the most obvious, pleasing answer in the world. “My darling, beautiful Alisha, is it worth it to spend months brining a pickle? Does rendering the common, humble cucumber into a treasure for the tongue not take some patience sacrificed, and tempers tried? Are you not my greatest service of all?”

And with that, we kissed, drank wine, and called over our darling little Sarai to enjoy a plate of dates. She pecked her papa on the cheek and told us stories about her doll. When I looked into Baraquiel’s eyes I saw the crackle of joyous lightning.

Love, true love, is often hard to find. But I lived in the Land of Nod once, wiped from the face of the earth, and I myself won a husband from the stars. Strange, us forgotten Cainites. Foreign in our magic, sinful in our ways.

Proud people, though, the memory of Nod.

And for Asherah?

I dance.

[amarthfaeg]

VERSES 𖬺͟ MUSES :

( high muse indicated with a * , muses in testing indicated with ** )

lotr / tolkienverse :

· arwen undómiel ( canon )

· éowyn ( canon )

· tauriel ( canon )

· arondir ( canon )

· eryniel of lórien ( original character ) *

· haldir ( canon )

· idis ( canon )

twilight / wwdits / vampire verses :

· katrina denali ( twilight, canon )

· juliet monroe ( verse flex, original character ) *

· nadja of antipaxos ( wwdits, canon ) *

· john mitchell ( being human uk, canon ) **

· annie sawyer ( being human uk, canon )

· daisy hannigan-spiteri ( being human uk, canon ) **

twisters :

· kate carter ( canon ) *

· tyler owens ( canon ) *

hit man :

· gary johnson ( canon ) *

practical magic :

· sally owens ( canon ) *

doctor who :

· eleventh doctor ( canon )

· twelfth doctor ( canon )

new girl :

· nick miller ( canon )

one tree hill :

· peyton sawyer ( canon ) *

misfits :

· alisha daniels ( canon )

you :

· love quinn ( canon ) **

shadow & bone :

· nina zenik ( canon ) **

avatar ( james cameron ) :

· neytiri ( canon )

· nova selfridge ( original character )

the gray man :

· yara sosa ( original character )

slavic folklore :

· rusalka ( headcanon based )

la la land :

· mia dolan ( canon ) **

zootopia :

· (human) judy hopps ( headcanon based ) **

one day :

· emma morley ( novel and series based ) *

… more muses tba ! ♡

⠀

[lottmatthews]

looking for casual 1x1 partners on discord, below are basic rules / plots / faces / dynamics i'm really feeling ! if you like this, i'll message you. rn my reply speed will vary so if you're only looking for rapid fire, probably not the best option !

intro + guidelines !

hi, i'm whimsi ! i'm 24, i use she / they pronouns and i live in eastern standard timezone. i love horror, fantasy, sci-fi and all things angst. i rarely write smut, i have to be comfy with you and invested in the ship to do so, but i'm not adverse to other adult topics. my triggers are: predatory age gaps, csa, and eating disorders. i only write on discord rn, it's easiest when it comes to accesibility. i won't write sexually taboo subjects, and faces who are racist / abusive / homophobic or transphobic / all around shitty are a no go. i don't always know stuff celebrities have done though, so if someone i use sucks definitely let me know!

faces i want to use

lizeth selene, jenna ortega, kedar wlliams-stirling, sophie thatcher, xolo maridueña, dev patel, amandla stenberg, talia ryder, maya hawke, joe keery, jonathan daviss, zendaya, lola tung, milly alcock, alisha boe, dylan minnette, savannah lee smith, conan gray, michael cimino, d'pharaoh woon-a-tai, evan mock, auli'i cravalho, mason gooding, renee rapp, milo manheim, brigette lundy paine, anya chalotra, quintessa swindell, kiana madeira, algee smith

faces i want to write against

any of the faces above as well as, liv hewson, whitney peak, sabrina carpenter, yara shahidi, ethan cutkosky, mark mckenna, emma mackey, ncuti gatwa, katie douglas, haley lu richardson, meeki lepper, odessa azion, justice smith, rachel sennott, chase sui wonders, jessica alexander, halle bailey, and more! these are just off the top of my head, i'm usually fine playing against whoever you're feeling (*:

wanted plots / dynamics

dark academia / college mumu, small town mumu, horror / slasher mumu, fantasy settings, original character celebrities, rich kids / socialiates, enemies to lovers, queer friends to lovers, situationships / messy relationships, multifandom mumu, etc

[gothwives]

my drafts are screaming at me and i'm finally working on gifs agan but i wanna get some things going with my test muses so like this for a one-liner/short starter from one of them!! they're in the source link and listed under the cut. mutuals only for now please <3

josefine “jo” obasi (ayo edebiri fc)- she/her, 25, bisexual, television writer

the insecure youngest child to strict immigrant parents, the "family disappointment"

michelle “meesh” leung (stephanie hsu fc)- she/her, 31, lesbian, dj

fiercely independent and free-spirited, doesn't like be tied down or told what to do

ari olsson (alexander skarsgård fc)- he/him, 44, bisexual, ceo

seemingly authoritative and controlling, typical business bro but incredibly submissive behind closed doors. has a thing for being dominated by younger women.

francis “frankie” doolittle (whitney peak fc)- she/her, 20, bisexual, intern/student

plucky and opinionated, slightly naive, emotionally immature but incredibly loyal

kathryn “kitty” buchanon (grace van dien fc)- she/her, 23, bisexual, waitress

small town girl yearning for a better life, former cheerleader/high school it girl turned diner waitress

daphne banks (alisha boe fc)- she/her, 25, pansexual, actress

former child star trying to shed her wholesome reputation to be seen as a serious actress

jett fuentes (dominic fike fc)- he/him, 27, bisexual, amateur stuntman/line cook

reckless, careless, unreliable. willing to do anything for attention

gideon grant (david corenswet fc)- he/him, 28, heterosexual, filmmaker

spoiled stuck-up nepo baby seen as a visionary/creative genius in the film industry, but really he's a sleazy, manipulative asshole

odette “odie"  cameron (olivia cooke fc)- she/her, 29, bisexual, con artist

raised by her single father who she learned all her scheming and scamming ways from, constantly bouncing from town to town so she won't get caught

kenneth “kenny” bardot (freddie stroma fc/matthew gray gubler alt)- he/him, 35, heterosexual, app developer

pretentious, stuck up former nerd with serious mommy issues, good at keeping up appearances but cruel down to his core, patrick bateman (american psycho) inspired

robyn knight (cleopatra coleman fc)- she/her, 32, bisexual, teacher

incredibly kind and nurturing by nature, willing to give her loved ones the world even if they treat her like dirt

birdie mellencamp (aimee lou wood fc)- she/her, 25, former pageant queen

trailer park princess, the sweetest lil' bimbo you'll ever meet, easily manipulated and overly trusting. what she lacks in brains she makes up for in heart!