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miquella-everywhere · 2 months

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Rating the Demigods based off their Homes

Technically Leyndell is not Morgotts house but his moms, which he inherited after escaping the sewers she threw him into, but he also runs the place like the navy runs a ship, so everything is in perfect working order. Nobody has any clue who he is and I appreciate his commitment to the bit. 8/10 really cool scenery but could definitely use some dusting and giant dragon corpse removal.

The Moghwyn Dynasty is every health inspectors worst nightmare. General unsanitary setting and blood swamps, Albinaurics captured and forced to assimilate against their will, along with several war medics, and also Mohg has the body of his shriveled up half-brother in his freezer. But overall the ancient civilization that lived here before Mohg had pretty okay taste, especially since they built their city under an underground starry sky. 10/10 but only because the health inspector died and Mohg forged the health report.

Godrick snuck in after his failings at the Shattering and just straight up claimed the place as his own, so Stormveil technically isn't even his house. Also his presence alone is so rank that thorns have started festering outside of the castle. 8/10 to the Stormlords cause they've got sick sense of style, but 2/10 to Godrick because he is a literal home invader.

Radahn does not give two shits about architecture, he clearly made Redmane based off of every other fort in the Lands Between and chose function over fashion, which is fair I guess, but also kinda boring. At least he strung up the all of the swords in Redmane and gave it some flaire. 4/10 because Redmane is so basic, plus minus 1 point for the tetanus hazard.

Raya Lucaria had an architecture course as an elective and Rykard committed himself to his GPA and developed his own aesthetic. He graduated top of his class and Rennala baked a cake for him. Best day of his life. Then he went up to Mt. Gelmir and was like, "I should totally make this place my house," and then he did because nobody had the balls to stop him. 10/10 for his commitment to the blasphemy aesthetic. And props to Tannith for doing a great job keeping the foyer the cleanest place in the Lands Between, but also 1/10 for the backyard being a general crime against humanity.

Ranni follows the rule of, "if it aint broke dont fix it," which is exactly why she broke everything else in the world and then returned to her childhood home after the Shattering. Caria could definitely use some bedrooms though because where the heck does everyone sleep?? Or do anything else for that matter???? Caria: Bathroom? Never heard of it. 6/10 because the sparkly magic bits in the air are super cool but Caria Manor definitely should've been a legacy dungeon.

Miquella attended both Leyndell and Raya Lucaria architecture classes, excelling over everyone and beating Rykards score in the final exam by exactly one point, and yet has no idea why Rykard is so pissed at him. Then after disowning his dad he had the great idea to try and build a treehouse but grew his own tree first because he's an over achiever and has gifted kid syndrome. 10/10 because the aesthetic is elegant and immaculate, and everyone who has depression is trying to get there for free therapy.

Malenia went to architecture school with Miquella because she had nothing better to do and slept through every class. The most she did there was break up Miquella and Rykards final exam squabble and also couldn't care less about architecture because she's fuckin blind. Rates the Haligtree architecture 10/10 because even though she's blind, she's sure that Miquellas sense of style is very pretty. But also rates it a 2/10 because Miquella keeps stubbing his toes and tripping on the carved stone flooring even though he insists everything is fine.

The Land of Shadow is less of Messmers house and more of his eternal timeout corner. He temper-tantrumed too hard one day and Marika put him there then completely forgot he ever existed. -10/10 because the parental abandonment is so real

#shitpost #elden ring #godrick the grafted #starscourge radahn #miquella the unalloyed #ranni the witch #rykard lord of blasphemy #malenia blade of miquella #mohg lord of blood #morgott the omen king #uri posts

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scoobysnakz · 7 months

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Hard Luck

It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?

||* mentions of masturbation (m receiving)

Chap i

The crisp autumn air carries a sense of nostalgia, which surprises you. It has been a while since you've experienced autumn in this way, but nostalgia is supposed to be a pleasant feeling, right?

Your daughter's small, chubby fingers firmly grip your hand as you playfully swing your arm out of her reach. You can't help but laugh at her adorable pout when you pull your hand away.

"I'm just teasing you," you say with a wide grin, extending your hand for her to take. "Stop being a grouch and hold my hand, RayRay!"

Her scowl quickly turns into a cheesy grin as she latches onto your hand. The sound of her pencil case and notebook thumping matches the rhythm of her skipping, and her glittery, purple sequin backpack bounces on her back.

Raya, or RayRay as you playfully call her, is your best friend. It's a bit sad, you know, but you've never really had time for friends. Ever since her dad left, she's been the only person in your life, aside from colleagues and your parents. And it's not so bad. She has adapted to your lifestyle, developed a sense of humor—her sarcasm is surprisingly on point for a nine-year-old.

The journey from your rundown apartment to her school isn't long, but it's far enough for the houses to transform from shabby boxes with crooked slate tiles to fancy condos with gleaming windows. It always amazes you how a few turns can take you to an area where people don't even know the meaning of a food bank.

You can tell by appearances alone that you don't fit in. The navy blue cable-knit sweater and boyfriend jeans, dirtied with mud stains, don't exactly scream, “I can afford more than one vacation a year!"

On the other hand, Raya always looks pristine. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but you'd rather wear nothing than have your daughter look as unkempt as you. Ensuring she has enough clean, stain-free clothes is your number one priority.

As you round a corner, narrowly missing a puddle that Raya "only wanted to look at" and not jump in, her disappointed expression gives her away.

Parents bustle around, urgently trying to retrieve their kids from the playground. It's nearly impossible to spot her teacher amidst the crowd of what seems like millions of moms, dressed in thick white scarves and thigh-high brown boots.

And then you hear it—a loud screech that, under different circumstances, would signify fear instead of the original joy it was intended for. "RAYYYY!" an excited girl squeals from the opposite end of the playground. Her dark brown hair is scraped back into a painfully tight ponytail as she races toward your daughter.

The two girls jump up and down gleefully, holding each other closely. It's a nice seeing her not alone.

You're so engrossed in watching your daughter giggle with her friend that you fail to notice the tall man standing next to you. What catches your attention first is his cologne—it's expensive.

The scent of thick oak is overpowering on its own, but it's tempered by the most unremarkable shower gel known to man.

"They're cute, aren't they?" he asks, causing you to turn your head and face him. You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out who this guy is. "Yeah... they are," you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Your words come out ruder than you intended, but you can't be bothered to fix your manners when a surprisingly attractive man is staring at your daughter, enjoying her time with another child. If you weren't genuinely confused about his identity, you might have reacted more strongly. Instead, you stand there, arms folded and brow furrowed.

"I'm... sorry, I'm Gabi's dad," he explains, his tone surprisingly apologetic.

That's her name.

"I'm Raya's dad," you reply, nodding toward the two girls. Hearing who he is instantly eases your fear that he might be something worse than just a father.

An awkward silence ensues as the man continues to study your appearance, seemingly taking you in. With a soft laugh, he smiles at you—a warm and irritatingly charismatic smile. "You don't look like a dad," he grins.

You open your mouth to give him a sharp, quick-witted retort, but your expression falters when you realize your mistake. Refusing to let this stranger have the upper hand in your first interaction, you smirk at him. "What do you mean?" you ask, poking your tongue past your lips to swipe across your teeth.

He instantly catches on to your smirk, and to be honest, it's endearing. "Because you don't look likea typical dad," he responds, matching your quickness. The same mischievous grin is plastered on both of your faces as you engage in a playful stare-down.

This morning, when you hastily applied expired mascara and cheap lip balm while trying to wake up Raya, you never expected to encounter such an annoyingly funny and undeniably attractive man—by your standards, at least.

With high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and broad shoulders, anyone would take a second look at him.

The loud peal of the school bell interrupts your scrutinizing gaze, drawing your attention back to your daughter. You quickly give her a kiss on the cheek, and she instinctively wipes it away while giving you a glare, before you push her towards the school entrance.

The man—whose name you still don't know, aside from being Gabi's father—does the same, but his daughter doesn't wipe away the kiss.

"When I asked who you were, I was hoping for a name," you mutter, mostly to yourself, but hoping he hears it too.

"Miguel," he responds, his voice lacking the warmth he had when his daughter was present.

"I'm..." you begin to introduce yourself, but he cuts you off, his voice now tinged with cockiness.

"I know who you are," he says, raising an eyebrow. Your scoff makes it clear how creepy he sounds. "Gabi talks about Raya a lot, and with you being her mother, it's only natural."

You narrow your eyes at Miguel, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. Raya is your world, and beyond that, you've kept everything else tightly guarded. It's a defense mechanism, a way to shield yourself from potential hurt or judgment.

"What exactly does Gabi say about Raya?" you ask, your voice tinged with caution. You're not sure if you should be flattered or concerned that your daughter is a topic of conversation between Miguel and his daughter.

Miguel chuckles, seemingly amused by your response. "She just talks about how funny and cool Raya is," he replies. "They've become good friends at school. Gabi is always excited to see her."

There's feel a sense of relief that washes over you. It's comforting to know that Raya has found a friend who appreciates her for who she is.

“Well I need to go,” you say while motioning over to the school gates. “Work and stuff.”

He nods his head, expression just as nonchalant as it was moments ago.

***

After dropping off Raya at school, and a brief yet intriguing conversation with Miguel, you head back home. It's considerably warmer now than it was before; sun poking out of the clouds, shining down onto the leaf-littered pavement. The odd car whizzes past and it's all you can do to jump away in time before it splashes you in murky brown liquid.

Fortunately for you, you don't have to leave for work until ten so you get some time to yourself. As soon as you unlock the door to your apartment, it took longer than you'd like to admit as you forgot which way to turn the key, you flop down onto the worn-in sofa. It creaks beneath you- a sign that you need to get a new one.

If you had the money, you would. God, if you had the money you’d move out of this shitty apartment and into… anywhere else. Maybe a house on the coast would be nice, or one of those fancy condos by Raya’s school. Either way, you want out.

You feel your eyes grow heavy, the temptation to allow yourself a few moments of sleep all too good. With a low groan, you pull yourself up off the sofa and drag your feet over to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee.

You open the jar only to find a minuscule amount granules left- six to be exact. All you want is that burst of energy and yet you are denied it. “Fuck me,” you grumble under your breath.

***

Even though it was a painfully short moment between the two of you, Miguel decides you are tolerable. Okay, maybe you’re more than tolerable, he'll settle for bearable as he's feeling especially nice today. You’re funny, well that might be a bit dramatic since he hasn’t even had a proper conversation with you, but you made him laugh- internally that is.

But right now he needs to push you, the nice lady with a pretty smile and even prettier face, out of his mind. He has to focus on this paperwork that's been sitting on his desk for God knows how long.

Begrudgingly, he picks up his pen with a sigh and starts scrawling his signature on the limitless reams of paper. It's all nonsense about him signing off on random projects, and safety procedures and- those sweet lips.

Something about you is intoxicating. Even when he was skimming through the infinite amount of universes, you didn't seem that special. Yes, there were the odd facts that caught his attention but everything else just seemed… dull. So why now, after not even a full five minutes of your company, can't he get you out of his head?

At first, he assumes it's because you’re oddly charismatic but that's not it. You weren't even trying, you just didn't want him to pull a fast one on you. Maybe, just maybe, he underestimated your personality and being around you as a real person and not some fact file actually made you likeable- no, bareable.

Double checking his office door is closed and the blind is pulled down over the frosted glass before sliding back into his chair. “LYLA,” he calls out, words muffled by his head in his hands.

There’s a small glitch next to him that quickly turns into a digitalized woman. “You called?” LYLA asks, hands on her hips.

Fuck he feels guilty but maybe seeing that cocky smirk on your face will ease the culpability he’s feeling. “You… you know what I want and I don’t want teasing or anything about it, just do it, ‘kay?” Miguel’s voice is gruff, full of an annoyance he doesn’t even know he’s feeling.

“Why would I tease you about wanting to innocently look at something?” she drawls with a smirk.

He shoots her a look, an unamused one at that. Giggling childishly, LYLA pulls up a screen full of writing. Miguel’s eyes flicker back and forth trying to find something until he catches a glimpse of your name.

He swipes and flicks the blue pixels a few times before your socials are pulled up. It’s nothing much, just your Twitter, Facebook and a surprising amount of Instagram accounts. That, makes him laugh. He can tell exactly which ones are the accounts you use for stalking people and which ones are for actually posting things.

There are mostly pictures of you and Raya together on days out but there are a few of you on nights out nights out alone. He immediately notices you never post anything with friends and it’s oddly comforting because it’s not just drunk girls with smeared eyeliner that’s missing from your pictures. It’s a boyfriend as well.

Not that he wants to fill that missing gap in your selfies, he's just feeling a little lonely cooped up in his office. He's in this universe for Gabi and no one else, not the lady with a pretty smile.

Just as he’s about to zoom in on a picture that shows an alluring amount of your cleavage, LYLA cuts him off. “I like her smile,” she says while getting up a different picture. This time it’s one of you and Raya in last year's Halloween costumes. Pirates. That’s the two of you had dressed up as.

You’d drawn a black beard on her face, Raya’s outfit cute with the oversized black and white striped shirt meanwhile you… A tight black and red corset pushes your chest in a way that makes something inside Miguel stir.

He shouldn't be looking at you like this- it's wrong and perverse. The two of you only met today and yet he's salivating over a picture of you in a Halloween costume. Yet he can't stop himself from allowing his body to react to the way you look.

That feeling slips down from his chest to his gut until it eventually reaches his crotch. You look so pretty like that, cheeks appled and eyes wide as you pull a stupid face with your daughter. The picture is innocent enough in its own right but seeing you in something ever so slightly revealing makes his brain malfunction.

He bets could make you prettier, more gorgeous than ever if you let him. His cum painting your perfectly plump lips and his hands gripping bruises into your supple flesh.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #afab reader #dad miguel o'hara #gabriella o’hara

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aimlesspost · 6 months

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"Sullied" = damaged so that it is no longer pure.

Sellen: "Glintstone is the amber of the cosmos. Golden amber contains the remnants of ancient life, and houses its vitality, while glintstone contains residual life, and thus the vitality of the stars."

Raya Lucaria Robes: "Those who dedicate themselves to the study of glintstones formed from starry amber receive this modest yet elegant deep navy garb after making their vows of virtue and austerity."

Founding Rain of Stars: "The glimpse of the primeval current that the astrologer saw became real, and the stars' amber rained down on this land."

Amber Medallions: "The Erdtree's old sap becomes amber, treasured as the most precious of jewels in the age of Godfrey, the first Elden Lord. A primordial life energy resides inside."

Miquellan Knight's Sword: "[…] modeled after those carried by Carian knights. Instead of glintstone however, amber from the Haligtree is embedded in the blade."

Amber houses remnants of life/vitality + known producers of amber are the Erdtree, the Haligtree, and the stars (all things that are "living" in some way)

Deathroot growing upwards from Godwyn's corpse at the Erdtree roots, creating its own tree-like spire.

The twisting pattern of the staff, said to be a "part of the Prince of Death," somewhat reminiscent of the new tree wrapping itself around the Erdtree, which is seemingly bleeding sap.

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #getting out my dumb little notes before any more info drops #interesting thing is that you can see black stains in the amber on the staff.#is it amber from the erdtree that became sullied from contact with deathroot? can deathroot corrupt the remnants of life within amber?#or can it make its own?#is deathroot “sullying” the erdtree the reason it's drained of color?

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izar-tarazed · 17 days

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𝟐-𝟓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘

COLORS

#1 … Blue, deep and rich—a variety of blues, really, that are Izar’s guiding colors. The blue of the night sky; the intense Carian blue; the darker one that she calls the Sellian blue, color of night sorceries. The blue of Liurnia, softened through the mist, but lit up by sunshine. The eternal gloam of Raya Lucaria’s great library.

#2 … Purple. The color of Izar’s eyes and the mark she bears on her brow. She doesn’t know how either of those came to be.

#3 … Brass, both polished and weathered. This is the color of treasure and precision, for most of her tools are made of this: the telescope she bought from Kalé before purchasing anything else, the small armillary sphere she retrieved from Raya Lucaria, the compass and the sextant. Her most prized possessions—apart from that small bottle of ink—because they are the tools of her profession: the keys to her identity.

SCENTS

#1 … The scent of old books: leather and yellowed paper.

#2 … The memory of wild grass and crisp mountain winds—the scent of a place fit for stargazing.

#3 … A hint of pepper and minty herba; not out of nowhere, but from the sweet spiced tea beloved among the nomadic merchants that Izar now loves as well.

FASHION

#1 … The Carian Knight Armor. Blue, silver and gold; fabric and metal. This is the armor she feels most comfortable in—as if belonging to it in a way she could never explain. She was reluctant to put it on when she first found it, but now donning it feels oddly like coming home.

#2 … The Astrologer’s Robe. Brown and creme-white; simple and durable fabrics, yet more comfortable than one would imagine. This is the garb she woke up in; the beginning of her journey. Lightweight, with pockets she quickly went filling with herbs and rainbow stones, feathers and crystal buds. Sometimes, at the Roundtable Hold, she’ll still put the robe on—to be comfortable and without worries, nothing but an astrologer, allowed to indulge in her curiosity.

#3 … The Blue Cloth Vest … Its color reminds her of Liurnia, and Izar likes it a lot. Its chestpiece of hardened leather offers better protection than her Astrologer’s Robe while still being lighter than her Carian Knight Armor. It’s another attire she feels extremely comfortable in.

#4 … The Navy Hood. She still carries it with her wherever she goes; she doesn’t even remember where she found it, but the blue, of course, called to her immediately. With the hood pulled up, she feels strangely protected. She’ll bring the cloak out on chill nights and snuggle up underneath when she rests.

OBJECTS

#1 … A bottle of ink, and a quill made of a stormhawk’s feather, but with a brass tip.

Technically two objects, yes, but they go together: ink and quill, essential to Izar’s map-making. She uses them for the most precise lines, for notes and calculations that mustn’t smudge like those made with charcoal possibly could.

She also draws her maps’ ornaments with them: small crests and compass dials, and tiny illustrations of what she concludes certain constellations might represent. A jewel-eyed dragon; a fox chasing its own tail; the hand holding a candle in its palm: with simple lines, she calls forth the forgotten stories.

#2 … The telescope. Always on her belt, to be grabbed with one swift motion—not that watching the night sky would require hurry. But Izar likes to keep it close.

#3 … The Carian Regal Scepter … Once again, silver and blue, the night sky and its stars. Izar’s favorite staff and her most frequent weapon of choice. A reminder of what she’s already accomplished, and a promise of what still may come.

BODY LANGUAGE

#1 … the occasional glance skywards—even in daylight—, fingers brushing her telescope

#2 … a series of springy steps when she’s both in good spirits and absent minded; almost as if dancing to a tune in her mind

#3 … slightly lifting her hand as if she’s about to reach out, or point at something (not necessarily something tangible, it can also be a thought, maybe… or a memory)

#4 ... straightening her shoulders, tightening her fingers around her staff–bracing herself for confrontation

AESTHETICS

#1 … the scholarly ones: hand-drawn maps, the inky lines still dark or already fading; dark wood and stacks of tomes, cartography tools; the twilight of a vast library, and its silence.

#2 … the astrologer’s ones: the infinity of the night sky, the certainty of one’s own smallness; shadows and a hint of golden light against the immensity of the darkest shades of blue and the silver of the stars; a landscape lost in darkness.

#3 … the stars in all their aspects—sketched, drawn, real; unmoving and far away; pure fury when wielded in combat—deadly comets, a meteor shower, a whirl of darkness and sparkling light.

SONGS

#1 … Láska neumiera (Jana Kirschner)

#2 Les choristes / Vois sur ton chemin (Les Petits Chanteurs de Saint-Marc/Bruno Coulais)

(une lumière dorée brille sans fin tout au bout du chemin |

a golden light forever shines at the end of the road )

#3 … Le vent nous portera (Scala & Kolacny Brothers)*

(je n’ai pas peur de la route … Tout disparaîtra, mais le vent nous portera |

I’m not afraid of the road ... Everything will disappear, but the wind will carry us)

#4 … Běžela jsem lesem (Vesna)

(bojím se lesem sama jít | mužeš mě prosím ochránit? |

I’m afraid to walk through the woods alone | can you please protect me?)

#5 ... Korzenie (Echo Rodu)

___

*A cover version, but more fitting for Izar than the original by Noir Désir.

Tagged by @hexenjagd–thank you so much, going through these has been a great exercise and so much fun.

Tagging ... well, if you've made your way all through this long post, you deserve a treat! consider yourself tagged if you'd like to!

#izar headcanon #izar tarazed #elden ring oc #prized by the crafty and fleet of foot | tags and dash games #both bewitched and fearful of the abyss | headcanons and lore

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greeneywa · 6 months

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Hii people here is the part two of my Tiranmu-Syorkilvan love story

Again disclaimer: The Syorkilvan Clan is not mine its the creation of

@buzzkillchainsaw

Tag list: @ferretseal, @serralarla, @satans-arse-crack @aristoc-rat , @xylianasblog, @lilgurlbeoncrack, @maggzsworld

Warning: arguments, kiss,navi language include

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

With the initial tension between the two clans settled, the Syorkilvan Olo'eyktan proposed a collaboration to enhance their newfound coexistence. He suggested that some of the Syorkilvan warriors, who were accustomed to life in the mangroves, teach the Tíranmu Clan how to adapt to their new environment. Living in the mangroves was indeed different from the swamp, and sharing knowledge would ensure a smoother transition. So zrina had no choice but to learn how to live in the mangroves her teacher was Raya tsakarem of the Syorkilvan clan. In the quiet embrace of the river's dark waters, Zrina found herself gripped by a touch of fear. Her webbed hand, adapted to the swamps but untested in the mangroves, clung tightly to Raya's paddle-like palm. The unknown depth and the unfamiliar surroundings unnerved her.Sensing Zrina's trepidation, Raya let out a soft, reassuring chuckle. Her gentle laughter carried an undertone of encouragement as she urged Zrina to step further into the tranquil river.

Zrina's unease was palpable, her webbed hand tightly clutching Raya's paddle-like one.Zrina: "Txo swaw oe frato, oel fìmi li kea kxanì! (I'm afraid, I feel like I'll sink!)"Raya chuckled softly, offering words of encouragement in the melodious Na'vi language.Raya: "Kehe, ke tsun slä! Tìranmu tswin nì'it swaw fte a peyä rolo, tswin ulte hapxi nì'it zene nìltsan. (No, you can do it! Tíranmu swim fast like arrows, but here it's about swimming gently and moving through the roots slowly.)"Raya's laughter was a warm and reassuring melody that echoed through the mangrove's embrace, guiding Zrina as she hesitantly stepped deeper into the river's tranquil depths.

Raya demonstrated the techniques that made the Syorkilvan's swimming different from the Tíranmu's. She showed Zrina the importance of moving gracefully and harmoniously through the water, utilizing the currents and submerged roots of the mangroves to their advantage. It was a more fluid and less hurried approach, suited to the serene and tranquil atmosphere of the Payna'rìng.As Zrina learned from Raya, she found herself adapting to this new way of swimming, gradually leaving behind the swift, arrow-like movements of her Tíranmu origins.

Zrina, still slightly uneasy, continued her swimming lesson under Raya's guidance, a sudden change in the water's rhythm disrupted the calm. The surface of the river began to ripple and rise, like a breath from the heart of Pandora. Zrina flinched, her nerves causing her to trip and fall headfirst into the water with an undignified splash.Her abrupt entry into the water earned her a chorus of laughter from Raya, who couldn't help but find the situation amusing. Zrina, coughing and sputtering, rose from the river, her frustration evident in her soaked and disheveled appearance.To her surprise, the figure that had emerged from the water was none other than Ra'ak himself. He shook his head, sending a cascade of dirty water droplets raining down on the two drenched girls, who voiced their annoyance with playful whines.In response to their complaints, Ra'ak's chuckle rumbled in his chest, a sound that resonated like the pulse of the jungle itself.

Ra'ak: "Oe tìyawni oe kelku si ni'ul zìsìt (I disturbed your serene moment), Zrina?"Zrina, flustered and dripping, shot a sideways glance at Raya, who couldn't hold back her laughter.Raya: "Za'u, za'u, nì'itìkangkem, Ra'ak! (Come on, come on, it's all right, Ra'ak!)"Ra'ak grinned mischievously, his deep voice carrying a hint of playful sarcasm.Ra'ak: "Ooh, amip oel tse'a sìltsana. Oel fraporu kopu syulang? (Ooh, did I bother the two princesses? Sorry~)"In response, the two girls exchanged a glance, their shared annoyance melting into laughter.

After shaking the water from his hair, Ra'ak's golden eyes found their way to Zrina, and this time, he knew her name. His lips curled into a quiet sigh, a hint of something different lingering in the air. It wasn't shyness that made Zrina turn away but rather annoyance, as Ra'ak suspected this unfamiliar sensation might be a lingering effect of his recent Rut. Perhaps encountering a new face was unsettling his emotions. He sighed softly, contemplating the emotions swirling within him.While the two girls resumed their playful banter, Ra'ak's gaze lingered on Raya, his future mate. Their union had been arranged since childhood, a tradition among the Syorkilvan. Ra'ak wasn't just a warrior but the Ekkyu, the future leader of his clan. The weight of responsibility lay heavily on his shoulders.Ra'ak cast a glance around, taking in the serene atmosphere of the mangroves, before affectionately nudging Raya's neck with his head. It was a silent signal that he needed to attend to his duties and leave their playful gathering. Raya, understanding his unspoken message, reciprocated the nudge and smiled at him. With that, he dived back into the water and gracefully departed.

Zrina, her heart pounding inexplicably, had observed the entire exchange. Questions swirled in her mind – why did her heart race at the mere sight of Ra'ak? Their interaction had been brief, consisting of nothing more than eye contact.Raya's voice brought her back to the present, her laughter filling the air.Raya: "Hey! Are you even listening? Ra'ak is my future mate, isn't he handsome? giggles"Zrina, somewhat dazed by the whirlwind of emotions and her racing heart, managed a faint smile and nodded, finding herself caught in a complex web of feelings that the tranquil mangroves had woven around them.

"Yeah... handsome," Zrina replied with a faint smile, finding it difficult to fully concentrate on their lessons.As the days passed, Zrina adapted well to the art of living in the river. She sat in the lowest point of the river, water up to their hips, alongside Raya and Ra'ak he often joined them in is free time. The 3 of them closed their eyes, deep in concentration, and breathed slowly.Raya's voice, melodious and reassuring, resonated with the wisdom of her clan: "The way of water is the song of the Payna'rìng, the melody of our homeland. Our hearts dance in harmony with the mangroves, echoing our roots as we journey among the stars. The river is your cradle, woven into your very essence from the beginning and throughout your existence. The river bestows its gifts, and in its depths, we find acceptance."

The words were a gentle reminder that the mangroves, with their tranquil waters and verdant roots, were not merely a place to live but an integral part of their existence, a nurturing mother who would guide them through the ebb and flow of life on Pandora. They were seated in a triangle formation Raya was holding both of Zrina and Ra'ak with her hands and Zrina and Ra'ak hold hands with their free hand, making the 3 look like a triangle from a third eyes view. Then again an Atokirina float around right in the middle of them..The wind got stronger and the Atokirina slowly float and rest on Zrina and ra'aks hands that were holding onto one another both of them look at the atokirina feeling a warmth trought their hands Raya saw the scene too but prétend to keep meditating but her instincts were kicking in.

As Zrina returned to her new home in the mangroves, she could hear the heated exchange between her mother, Oy'nat, and Kekuna. Oy'nat's voice was filled with anger and frustration, her words carrying her passionate convictions.Oy'nat: "Olo'eyktan alor oeti vi tsun tivakuk, Kekuna! (The leader should have stood and fought, Kekuna!) Niä kemìri a krr alor ramey tswayon mì Hulanta. (We have strong warriors; we could have fought the Hulanta.)"Kekuna, the Olo'eyktan of their clan, spoke with a firm and calming tone, reminding her of her role as a peacemaker.Kekuna: "Ma Oy'nat, ke tsahik oe. Sìrey oe set. (Oy'nat, I am the leader. You are the Tsahik. Srung sneyä oe, ma sa'nok ngeyä. (Remember that, my dear.) Fìkem si Oy'nat, tsakrr a tsakarem Syorkilvan oe kelku. (Listen, Oy'nat, our daughter is learning from the Syorkilvan Tsakarem.)"Oy'nat, frustrated and agitated, questioned the adaptation of their people to the Syorkilvan ways.Oy'nat: "Fìtsenge tìnusumevaw lu trram. Siva'ane tsakrr kifkeyey, tsakarem Syorkilvan oe kelku. (Why are we teaching the Syorkilvan way? My daughter is learning from the Syorkilvan Tsakarem.)"Kekuna stood with authority, speaking in the Na'vi language:Kekuna: "Txo lu. Liru leiu oe, ma sa'nok. Tsmuk oe sa'nok sivi tsmuke, slä oeru teri nìtut makto tsakem ngeyä. Rutxe kxeyey, oeru tsahik. (That's enough. You're the Tsahik, and I am the leader. Remember, my dear, our daughter is learning from the Syorkilvan Tsakarem. Please, meditate and connect with Eywa, as that will remind you of your role.)"Kekuna left, leaving Oy'nat to reflect on her responsibilities as Tsahik and their clan's future in the mangroves.

Zrina entered the hut and, concerned by her mother's outburst, asked , "Mother, what happened?"Oy'nat replied with frustration, "Never forget our ways, my child! Kekuna wants us to change, but we won't!"Zrina, while still puzzled by the situation, chose to remain silent, respecting her mother's convictions and the traditions of their clan.

As Ra'ak climbed into his hammock that night, the unease that had gripped him since Zrina's arrival continued to haunt his thoughts. His heart raced, and he attempted to divert his mind by thinking about Raya, but Zrina's image, with her heart-shaped face, her warm smile, and her graceful form, persisted in dominating his thoughts.

He sighed in frustration, knowing that his attraction to Zrina might be a residual effect of his recent Rut. Restless, he turned and shifted uncomfortably in his hammock, unable to escape the memories that flooded his mind.

A few weeks passed and In the afternoon, Zrina found herself submerged underwater with Raya, deep in the darkest part of the river. It was an unusual place for a lesson, but Zrina was there to practice the darker version of the Syorkilvan sign language. As a Tìranmu, she had adapted to the dark and murky waters of Kuns'uluk swamp, which gave her exceptional vision. Her eyes were well-suited for those conditions, allowing her to see in the obscurity of the swamp with ease.Zrina was initially skeptical about the need for Syorkilvan sign language, as her eyesight as a tiranmu in these dark waters was already exceptional. However, she understood the value of learning the language so she learn the sign language. Here she was tracing the pattern of the sign in Raya's palm it is the alternative the Syorkilvan use to communicate when they cant see each other under water.

Raya emerged from the water, her head breaking the surface with a gentle smile on her face. She nodded in approval, congratulating Zrina for executing the correct sign patterns.

Raya: "Tsun srung oeru! (You're doing well!)"

Zrina, though still adjusting to the new sign language, appreciated Raya's encouragement and nodded in return, determined to become proficient in this new skill.

Zrina was finally free to explore the village of the Syorkilvan clan cause of Raya having to attend to her duty as tsakarem. As she wandered around, her curiosity led her to the water where she spotted Ra'ak. The water reached his chiseled green chest, and he appeared deeply focused on something underwater. Zrina approached him silently, treading water, and soon realized that Ra'ak was using a fishnet to catch fish.

She watched with interest, not wanting to disrupt his concentration. Suddenly, a low sound rumbled from Ra'ak's throat, causing his Adam's apple to bob up and down. Zrina looked at him, puzzled, before she noticed a fish-like creature swimming toward his net. It seemed that Ra'ak's skilled hunting instincts were in action as he tried to catch food for his clan.

As the fish-like creature swam into Ra'ak's net and he successfully trapped it inside, he explained, "This is tìrangoa; we Syorkilvan eat it a lot." Zrina nodded in understanding, observing how he carefully placed the catch in a woven basket.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn't resist asking, "What are you going to do now?"

Ra'ak flashed a mischievous smile and replied, "I'm just going to play around in the water now that I'm done fishing."

With a playful glint in her eye, Zrina nodded and decided to join in the fun. She splashed water in his direction, but her attempt fell short, as Ra'ak had moved to the shore. He turned and gave her a "now you're in trouble" look before playfully tackling the Tsakarem into the water, creating a joyful splash that echoed their newfound camaraderie.

In the midst of their playful splashing and laughter, Ra'ak and Zrina found themselves thoroughly engrossed in the moment. As Ra'ak tossed her through the water, their laughter filled the air, echoing through the tranquil surroundings. It was a brief escape from the daily pressures they both faced in their respective clans.

Caught in the excitement, Ra'ak suddenly lifted Zrina up, her back pressed firmly against his chest, her legs kicking freely in the air as she playfully struggled to break free. Their laughter resonated, and Ra'ak couldn't help but share in her joy. The exhilaration of the moment was palpable, their connection growing stronger with each laugh.

Yet, within this seemingly innocent play, something shifted. Zrina's onyx hair, wet and glistening, brushed against Ra'ak's cheek. A delicate scent, earthy and full of life, filled his nostrils. He found himself drawn to it, his instincts taking over. His lips, cool from the water, met her skin. Gently, he began to nuzzle her neck, placing tender kisses in a rhythm that mirrored the rhythm of their hearts.

Zrina's laughter faded into a hushed silence as Ra'ak continued his intimate explorations, and her own heartbeat quickened in response. It was as though the world around them stood still, all their senses focused on this newfound connection. Their bodies felt the undeniable chemistry, while their minds struggled to come to terms with what was happening.

With a growing sense of self-awareness, Ra'ak slowly lowered Zrina back into the water. They exchanged a lingering, questioning glance. What had they done? How had this innocent play turned into a moment of intimacy that blurred the lines between them? Their eyes reflected the guilt and confusion that welled within their hearts.

Without a single word, Ra'ak abruptly exited the water, his footsteps marking the earth with his inner turmoil. His mind raced with thoughts of Raya, his intended mate, and how he had betrayed her. The waves of frustration and self-loathing coursed through him as he distanced himself from Zrina, leaving her feeling bewildered and conflicted.

The calm waters they had just shared moments earlier remained, but the tranquility was now marred by the complexity of emotions that swirled between them. The boundaries they had crossed altered their understanding of loyalty and commitment, casting a long shadow over their uncertain futures.

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatar #atwow x reader #omaticaya

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tellurian-in-aristasia · 10 months

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Aristasian Customs and Manners

How Aristasians behave — and Why

Until recently, learning about Aristasian customs and etiquette has been a thing that happened only in "real life". In Elektraspace it was not necessary. With the advent of Virtualia, that has changed. Aristasians, both established and new, are meeting in virtual environments and visitors are encountering Aristasia and being received as guests at the Virtual Embassy and in other Elektra-venues.

The time has come, therefore, to explain a little about Aristasian customs and etiquette so that the newcomer need not feel confused.

The first thing we should like to say is — don't worry! We are used to newcomers. We do not expect you to be au fait with Aristasian ways from the start. If you do not remember this page at all, that is fine. You will learn as you go along. This is just here as a resource you may wish to consult to make things clearer and perhaps explain a little of the background.

Aristasia is a whole world, not a single nation, so customs vary in different parts of the Empire. The ways you will encounter are the ways of the far West. There is a degree of Estrenne influence because of the involvement of the Novarian Navy and diplomatic service in the founding and administration of Virtual Aristasia, and in any case a certain degree of West-Estrenne conduct is inherent in the more formal Quirinelle manner.

However you may be relieved to learn that on the whole, the manner of Quirinelle prevails, which is generally the least strict and formal of any in the Empire. Our level is a little above that of Quirridip Espresso-bar society! — But still relatively relaxed by Aristasian standards.

Respect

Respect is the keynote of much Aristasian conduct. It is considered proper to treat each person with the highest respect she might be entitled to. This means you will give each person her title. Usually this will be Miss. In some cases it will be a military rank or other distinction. Teachers at all levels are addressed as ma'am, as are grown-ups by children and anyone of distinctly superior station to oneself. There are other titles, but you will probably not encounter these at first.

When addressing a person as Miss, you may use either Miss [Surname] or Miss [First name]. The first is more formal. It should be used when you first meet someone. As in Telluria (at least until recently), moving onto first-name terms is a sign of developing intimacy. To use a first name with a stranger can cause genuine puzzlement ("Does this person think she knows me? — Oh gosh, I hope I haven't completely forgotten her!")

In Quirinelle,and especially in the atmosphere of Virtualia (where welcoming new people and forging a community are central to the whole project) this first level of intimacy often develops quite quickly — once people feel they know one another. However, although you use the first name, do not drop the "Miss". To address someone by first name alone is in Aristasia a thing that happens between family members, sweethearts, childhood friends and (sometimes) very close adult friends. First names alone are also used in schools (especially among blondes) and by superiors to their very distinct inferiors — to children, by mistresses to maids, teachers to pupils etc. Though at University level a lecturer will address her undergraduates as Miss [Surname]. If the teaching relationship is close, she may move on to Miss [First name], but the pupil will not return this. She will at all times address her teacher as Miss [Surname] or ma'am. A spiritual teacher, or close personal guide may sometimes be addressed as "Raya". This is also used as a courtesy title for some other persons and for titled ladies. Priestesses and ministers of many ranks and denominations are addressed as "Matri". These will probably not arise immediately. Do not worry about it — just call people what other people call them.

Someone has suggested as a guideline that in Aristasia one would not use the first name alone (without Miss) to anyone whom one would not call "darling". In Tellurian terms this may be a reasonable guide, but in Aristasia terms like "darling" and "sweetie" may be fairly frequently used, especially by blondes. It is quite possible to say "darling" to someone one would never dream of addressing by first name alone.

Which brings us to another important point. Affection is very abundant in Aristasia. If the higher degree of formality suggests coldness or distance to you, you must put that idea aside entirely. In Iron-Age Telluria, with its unbalanced-Vikhelic nature, rivalry and competition are common bases for relations with others. In Aristasia, love and appreciation of other girls is very deep. Seeing someone dressed beautifully pleases us. It may also inspire us to do better ourselves, but our first thought is: "How lovely; and how nice of her to make our world prettier". Affection is really quite overflowing in Aristasia, and there are many kinds of friendships and relationships. The idea of one jealously-guarded relationship, surrounded by (and sometimes causing) rivalry and wariness everywhere else, is very alien to Aristasia. Aristasia is regarded as a family with the Empress as the mother of all (sometimes termed the Little Mother of the World — because God is the Great Mother).

Love between Aristasians at all levels is one of the fundamentals, and showing respect is, in Aristasia, a way of showing affection. Of course one shows respect even to those for whom one may not feel affection, but for a good Aristasian, affection is almost universal. A thing the newcomer needs to understand, though, is that an Aristasian may often show someone more formal respect because she loves her, rather than less.

Rayati and the Reverence

"Rayati" is the universal greeting in Aristasia. It means "Hail to the Sun (in you)". It is a greeting addressed to the Divine Essence, or Solar Heart in each person. It is used to begin and end a meeting or encounter, like both "hello" and "goodbye" (though hello and goodbye are sometimes used as well). To a traditional Aristasian, a meeting with a friend, or friends constitutes a special state, almost a very informal ritual (just as eating a meal at a table, or visiting a person's house is a ritual). The word Rayati is the opening and closing word of that ritual. Any words said after the closing "Rayati" are regarded as a sort of postscript. Occasionally in the West, and in very informal company, the greeting is omitted (this is regarded by traditional people as a sign of Westrenne decadence), but if it is given by either party, failure to respond with "Rayati" is an immense gaffe and could even be seen as an insult.

Among Military personnel and on some formal occasions, the greeting is Rayati Raihiranya ("Hail to the Empress as an incarnation of the Sun"). This might also be said at, say, a school assembly where the mistress conducting would greet the assembly with it, and the girls would reply in unison.When a civilian is greeted by a member of the military with "Rayati Raihiranya" it is usual to give the civilian response "Rayati", but it is perfectly in order to reply "Rayati Raihiranya". Occasionally this is shortened to "Raya" among the military — normally only when addressing each other. It is rare for a civilian to use "Raya" as a salutation, even when so saluted. Other military salutations are "Chalwë" and "Ehr Chalwë". You will probably not hear these, but if you do, you may respond with "Rayati" (more usual) or "Chalwë". Incidentally, the implication of responding with "Rayati Raihiranya" or "Chalwë" rather than "Rayati" is one of a certain kind of comradeship. It is saying "we are all soldiers in the same Cause". It is more common among brunettes than blondes.

Another ending of an encounter (used after "Rayati") is "May She be with you". This tends to be used a) among more religious people and/or b) as an expression of additional affection. On leaving a house the hostess may say "May Dea go with you", to which the response is "And may She remain with you".

The Reverence is used a great deal in the East. In the West it is sometimes omitted, and in some company not used at all. It is not de rigeur in the West (except in schools and other institutions that require it, which many do). It is essentially a bow that accompanies the greeting "Rayati". It is made at some other times as well — for example when accepting an order from a superior, when it is a sign of the recognition and formal acceptance of the commission or prohibition; also when thanking or apologising. Although it is sometimes omitted in the West, the Bridgehead Authorities recommend the use of the Reverence by all Aristasians in Telluria.

The reverence can take various forms, but most usually it is done either with the hands at the sides or folded over the solar plexus, or with the hands placed before the chest in the position associated in Western Telluria with prayer. It may be only an inclination of the head or it may be a deeper bow. This has to do with degrees of respect. An inferior will reverence more deeply. An superior may reply with an inclination of the head, or in some cases not at all (it is rare for a mistress to reverence her class, though they will reverence her).

Here is another thing newcomers must beware of misunderstanding. While Aristasians will often actively seek out reasons for using respectful words or gestures (for example, a brunette may more deeply reverence a blonde as a blonde, even if she is somewhat her inferior), the absence of them does not imply disrespect or arrogance (unless it is a misplaced absence). A mistress could well reverence her pupils, since each of them has the Solar Heart within her; but part of her way of serving them is to be a "rock" for them and to represent a secure and immovable link in the Golden Chain. In a very minor sense, she is Dea to them, as a spiritual Ranya may be in a much greater sense. This is also why obedience is a very important virtue in Aristasia, for "obedience to elders is obedience to Dea" (elders here means "superiors" without necessarily a reference to age).

A still more respectful reverence is made by raising the hands (still in the Tellurian attitude of prayer) to the level of the forehead and bowing deeply. There are numerous other styles of reverence, but these are the ones most commonly encountered in the West. Also among Westrennes, some blondes may curtsey rather than reverence.

Military salutations are accompanied by a military salute, or by the military version of the reverence, which is performed by standing erect, as if at attention, bringing the heels sharply together and making a crisp bow from the waist.

Virtual note: At the time of writing, we have not animations either for the pressed-hands style of reverence or for the most usual form of Aristasian military salute (in which the right fingertips are touched to the left shoulder). However we have a simple bow with the hands at the sides — which is a fully acceptable style of reverence in Aristasia — and a Tellurian-style military salute.

Personae and Functions

In Aristasia-in-Telluria it is common for girls to have multiple personae. Readers of Children of the Void will recall that the book had twenty-one characters but only seven physical bodies . Some girls are even "ambis", having both blonde and brunette personae (this is not the norm, but it is not rare).

For some girls personae are not important. Some have no extra personae. Some have only, perhaps, a schoolgirl or a schoolmistress necessary for her school life. At this point persona shades of into Function — an important concept that we shall discuss shortly. Other girls have two or more very distinct persona, so that no one supposes she is talking to the same person when she knows the two of them — as, indeed, she is not. Some girls find this aspect of Aristasia alone a huge liberation, and wonder how they could ever have gone through life with only one personality! It would have been as if part of them were missing.

In Virtualia at present, it is usual to have only one Avatar and one persona. So in a sense it may be said that Virtualia, with all its flying and teleporting, is a little more staid than Physicalia! There is actually no reason why girls should not eventually have second personae (it may indeed be interesting to have personae that are not "tied" by a similar physical appearance), but at present this is not the case.

Nevertheless, a somewhat related phenomenon is that of Function, and that needs to be understood in the light of the relatively formal nature of Aristasian society. When one performs a Function in Aristasia, whether as a mother, a teacher, a minister, a military officer or even a subordinate Function, such as a daughter, a pupil etc., one is manifesting an Archetype. This is an important point for the newcomer to understand, because the modern Tellurian West — especially since the cultural Eclipse of the 1960s, when an extreme individualism has attempted to expunge even the vestiges of true Function — is at the opposite extreme from this consciousness.

In Aristasia, each Function is ruled by one of the Janyati — a musician by Sai Thamë, for example, a military girl by Sai Vikhë, a nurse by Sai Sushuri. Actually, it is more complex than that. A teacher, for example, is ruled by Sai Mati insofar as she imparts knowledge, by Sai Thamë insofar as she imposes order, by Sai Sushuri insofar as she gives love to her pupils, by Sai Rhavë insofar as she corrects them. However we look first at the primary Janya for each Function, and, indeed, traditionally a maid would invoke the tutelary Janya of her Function (or of a particular aspect of her Function) before performing it. This is very often omitted in the modern Aristasian West (another example of cultural decline), but even when it is, the principle behind it is not forgotten.

In the light of this, it is perhaps easier to understand why Functions in Aristasia are regarded more seriously than "jobs" or ""roles" in the Pit. A girl performing a Function is usually addressed by the title of the Function and will be treated almost as a different person in and out of her Function. Teachers, for example, are accorded great respect in Aristasia, and while in the role of teacher, even those who know her more intimately at other times will regard the officiator of that role almost as a divine representative (which, on a certain level, she is). The idea of calling a teacher by her first name (with "Miss", of course) would be unthinkable, even in the case of a person who is regularly addressed so at other times.

The point here is that while the Pit regards the individual as paramount, in Aristasia, the Function is paramount. When a maid takes on the mantle, or "mask", of a higher Function, it is the Function, or Archetype, that is paramount. Aristasian pupils (like pupils everywhere) may not always be above criticising their teachers as individuals, but during the actual "ritual" of the lesson, the perception of the Archetype should be to the fore. This does not mean there is never a joke in class — sometimes there is — but it does help to explain why classroom disobedience is a) much rarer and b) regarded as what Pit-dwellers might consider to be a disproportionately serious offence.

We have taken the Function of teacher as an easily graspable example, but similar remarks might be applied to any Function,

Pit-dwellers distrust masks as devices to hide the face of the all-important Individual (which to them is the only reality). Aristasians revere them as the means of actualising a supra-individual Reality that is in no way false, but is, in a very important sense, closer to the Solar Heart that we greet many times daily with the word "Rayati".

We would suggest that the above paragraph sums up as succinctly as possible the underlying difference between Aristasian forms and manners, and those of the Pit. It is worth meditating upon.

To finish, we should just like to reiterate what we said at the beginning. While this may sound difficult and complicated, please do not worry. Aristasia-in-Virtualia is there to welcome newcomers. You do not need to know any of this. Many girls have come in before this page was written! You will learn simply and gradually as you go along.

We are simply waiting to welcome you.

Good luck to you in your magical adventure into the Motherland.

And Rayati!

https://web.archive.org/web/20230627113119/https://aristasia-info.aristasia-central.com/customs.html

#aristasia #aristasian #chelouranya #miss martindale

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jualgamisanaktulungagung · 11 months

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mickgaydolenz · 1 year

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Heres my dream (even though I am still recovering from the lost Elton john concert (also this is an old dream cus I can't remember my dream last night) )

I was on the beach in my swim trunks just enjoying myself, pretty sure I was tanning or something because I wasn't swimming (water too scary for my enjoyment) and a lady came up to me and told me that I'd get an awkward tan line with my swim trunks so I told her I didn't own bikini bottoms and she just rolled her eyes and spit her gum out on me which was fcking disgusting and I had to go throw it away. then I saw a little girl at the shower areas and every time she got her hair in the water it went green (she was a brunette) and I remember not thinking anything of that except "oh cool I wish I learned to do that" and then I went back to my little blanket (I was alone?) and sat back down and started singing RainMaker but only the part that goes "rainmaker says..." then I just trail off and say it over and over again. then fcking OLD man Mike came and sat with me, he even had his silly black sunglasses he wore all the time. and when he sat down he looked at me and asked me why my shorts were pink, like he said "why're your swimming trunks all pink and stuff" and I told him I got them from old navy and the only pair of swimtrunks they had for women were only pink and he told me I should've gotten some from the men's aisle then and I told him I didn't have time. then he gestured wildly to his swim trunks and said "I have nine pairs of the same swim trunks, you fckin nerd" ????? then he had a waterbottle and just took really really intense swigs of in and then threw it at a guy that walked by. -_-. then he asked me if I wanted to swim and I told him no and he did that teenager thingy like "uuuhhhggg" or whatever then he went swimming and I don't know how but he had one of those fake shark fins and he was scaring everyone and whenever he would he'd go "HA Raya did you see that?? >:)" and I kept trying to hide my face with a magazine which was actually working because nobody knew of this raya he spoke of then he went "RAYA IN THE PINK SHORTS DID YOU SEE THAT" and I literally packed up and went to my car and waited for him (honestly I don't know why I didn't just leave) and I waited there ALL DAY and then the sun was down and Mike came into the car all laughing and went "some first day first date first day!" what does that mean???? then he started driving and I woke up (thank GOD)

BROOOOOOOOO HDSHSHSHHSSHVAGAGAGAGAGAAAAA!!!??!?!??!??! DREAM MIKE IS A MENACE AHHSHSHSAGAGGAGA!!!!!! WHY IS HE ALWAYS LIKE THAT TO YOU!?!?!?!??? (fuck i’m dying after reading that, i laughed so hard i gave myself acid reflux 😂). fucking what right does a goofy ass old man who scares people with a fake shark fin have to judge you on pink swim trunks!?!?

#old man chapstick in your dreams is just……wow the worst 😂#also gross can’t believe some lady spit gum on you 😔#raya’s dreams :)#rhubarb asks

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rayabarra · 1 year

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Welcome to Aurora Bay, RAYA YABARRA! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like LINDSEY MORGAN. You must be the TWENTY-EIGHT year old RETIRED ARMY NURSE/UNEMPLOYED. Word is you’re AMBITIOUS but can also be a bit STUBBORN and your favorite song is FALLINGWATER BY MAGGIE ROGERS. I also heard you’ll be staying in SEABROOK QUARTERS. I’m sure you’ll love it!

BASICS:

NAME: Raya (Rye-yuh) Jean Yabarra

BIRTHDAY: September 9th

AGE: 28

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual

OCCUPATION: unemployed(retired Army Nurse)

FAMILY:

MOTHER: Jennie Yabarra

FATHER: Marlon Yabarra

SIBLINGS: 1 younger sister, older half brother

CHILDREN: n/a

Homeland: Laredo, Texas

PLOT POINTS:

Born and raised in Laredo, Texas. She is the middle child of 3.

Her parents blue collar American. Her mother worked as a teacher at a elite private school and her father worked as a police officer till he retired.

She did pretty well in school, being a most A student.

Raya entered a pretty serious relationship in her Freshman year and was devastated when it ended two years later.

Heartbroken she decided to follow in her older brother’s footsteps. He enlisted in the Navy, Raya enlisted in the Army.

She utalized the opportunity to attend college and received her Bachelors in Nursing becoming a Registered Nurse.

Once she finally met the requirements to become a Nurse in the Army she applied and was approved for the job switch.

She recently fulfilled her contractual requirements for the army and decided now to reenlist. She instead wanted to start anew some place else. She remembered a quaint little beach town a friend had talked about.

PERSONALITY:

Raya is very ambitious. Once she has her mind on something she doesn’t stop till it’s done no matter how over the top it is.

Ever since she got her heart broken she hasn’t been the same. She became icy to really any man. She realized it was just puppy love but she refuses to let another person make her feel that way again.

You want to make sure you don’t cross Raya because she holds grudges like no ones business and she’ll use it to her advantage.

She’s extremely independent and is dead set on making it without the help from anyone.

When she gets moody or angry it’s best you stay clear. The anger emotion from upside down? yeah that her times 1000 when she’s angry.

VANITY:

5'5” and Slim

Long dark brown hair with honey highlights

Dark brown eyes

Hair usually pulled up by a claw clip

OPEN CONNECTIONS:

BEST FRIENDS:

POTENTIAL LOVE INTEREST:

FWB:

UNLIKELY FRIENDS:

GOOD/BAD INFLUENCES(can go either way):

HATESHIP:

ROOMMATE:

*seriously anything

CLOSED CONNECTIONS:

#aurorabay.intro

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rayasland · 7 months

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🍃 BYE GUYS!! /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

this isnt my official leave as ill be trying my very hardest to complete older / unfinished posts instead of making new ones, as well as editing my old ones to fit my current and last theme but no promises. my last ever post will be my scaramouche fanfiction that is was meant to come out last month.

thank you to the 200 followers who have been here even with me being on and off with posts. i apologise for this 😭😭 school has taken up all my time which allowed me no time left to be here and post more as well as take in requests.

this is a very important year in school so all my focus has to be solely on school.

im not really expecting anyone to see this or care its just to let you guys know im not going to completely abandon this account until ive finished all my unfinished projects.

the reason im leaving is because i really have nothing left to do with this account and i was barely able to post things on time, be active etc.

i will most likely start a new account with more organized posts. i will also try to make weekly posts. (not confirmed so dont get ur hopes up)

thanks again for following and liking my posts!!

! all of my tags r in the tag thing

! link 2 my navigation ( ur free to ask wtv u like! dni p*rn accs y’all r weird )

lil note. srry for grammar mistakes n stuff im tired as shit man

#↳ ﹕⌕ calico chan ・#✪︰ raya's asks ˛⁺﹒#%. rayas navi

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myprinter · 1 month

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Product: Ampau Raya Custon

Koleksi ampau raya BMW tahun 2023/144H. Edisi terhas ini dicetak menggunakan 157gsm matte paper dengan kemasan spot UV. Termasuk kotak yg dibuat menggunakan 300gsm box board dengan kemasan 128gsm matte dan spot UV. Mengandungi 6 keping ampau bersaiz 80mm x 170mm. Pilihan warna tema pula adalah navy blue.

#customampau #myprinterseremban #edisikhas

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dearserenesoul · 1 month

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The night of 1st Syawal

I've already anticipated this feeling towards the end of Ramadan. I'm not ready for Ramadan to end. I need longer Ramadan. During the 28th or the 29th night, i got worried. What if this serenity i felt in Ramadan doesn't last?

And yes, i hated listening to lagu raya, reminding me that it's no longer Ramadan. I never feel this sad over the end of Ramadan. But i feel guilty too for feeling sad, bcs i know i'm supposed to celebrate the victory of returning to fitrah. Maybe i did return, but the real journey feels like it just began; the true mujahadah an-nafs as well as mujahadah the evil whisper of the shaytan.

Got a bit emotional last night, that when everyone was throwing raya wishes & du'a, i posted gentle warning to not wish me raya lol. Cuz i'm so overwhelmed with the sadness over its departure.

Taking the benefit of the night of eid, that is said to be the night where du'a is not rejected, i woke up. But i took my time to plan my du'a, while staring at the ceiling.

Apparently my sadness was not just for the departure of Ramadan. And that awareness made me feel even worse. I was reminded of last year's eid. I was battling my emotions again.

“Don't wish me raya. Make du'a for me semoga i'm happy again, semoga tahun ni last raya single, so that i can get my old self back yang happy, focused, unbothered, in my lane, moisturized,”

i wrote to my close friends, especially my girls; letting them know the state i'm currently in since we haven't talk sepanjang Ramadan. Kinda letak limit awal-awal kejap kot; that i'm not ready to rekindle.

Then there i was; on sejadah. Tears dropped on my cupped hands.

“Ya Allah, sepanjang Ramadan i kept silent except once. But all my nights belong to You. I chose You over my own self, my own feelings, my own emotions. I surrendered to You everything. But here i am again. It's me again, after all those nights, with these feelings & emotions burdening me. Please, look at me ya Allah. Please, listen to me.”

Yet it still felt wrong to say anything of my own choice.

“If it's good for me, please bring it close to me. If not, please erase my shaqawah. Make me among the people of sa'adah.”

It's the same du'a i recited once during one of the days in Ramadan. And I asked Allah, that i really want to meet my love. I really want to.

Last night Abang Im got a bit tempered just bcs i asked to pass pinggan lauk yang jauh from me (?). He raised his voice to me. I cannot. I'm never okay with people raising their voices to me, what more males, what more for unjustified reason. So it stirred my emotions a bit even more too. That i want to stop being taken as a child that people can raise their voice at. I'm an adult and talk to me like an adult.

At that time, i naively thought, if I had my man next to me by now, people may take me more seriously. That my protector is here—while knowing well that fighting with a spouse is even more common. But if he can raise his voice during our fight, is he even the man with the traits i've been asking from Allah? Only the traits i beg for, or not; “ya Allah, make him so gentle & soft with me, even in his anger.”

So again & again, I make du'a for the righteous spouse i've been waiting for all my life.

But then the morning of 1st Syawal went well. I was in a good mood, no inconvenience happened. Tudung on point, makeup jadi, abah tak being his usual hasty & pushy self yang pressure orang suruh siap cepat lol. So yeah, pagi raya went well <3

Hikss ootd 🙆🏻‍♀️ We're in navy blue this year 💙 Tapi kak hus abang mat fahri mufaraqah 💆🏻‍♀️ cuz katanya tahun lepas dah navy blue for their small family. So they're in black. Okay lah, sipi-sipi.

Us with Mok, seb baik coordinate jugak with us hee. Tahun depan inshaAllah tambah lagi 2 (babies), or 3 termasuk menantu mama abah. Allahumma aminnnn. AMIN PALING SERIOUSSSSS!!

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