#SABIRAH

[richardmurrayhumblr]

Title: Sabirah Artist: Seanime https://www.deviantart.com/seanime/art/Sabirah-863443833 #rmaalbc #artist #Seanime

#rmaalbc #sabirah #seanime #black #artist

[bon-uoq]

Some OC doodles for y'all cause I definitely haven't posted my favourite girlies here yet but I want to make more content of them so bad 🤧❣️

Zora: Remi, Gerudo: Sabirah, Rito: Vayu

Remi and Sabirah are gfs & Vayu is their bestie and designated third wheel <3

Third doodle is them in modern!AU where they're all 21st century Hylians basically :]

there's no real logic to it I just thought it was fun when I made it a good few years ago & it's my designated fashion AU gdjsbfjdf

#the legend of zelda #bonuoq's art tm #bonbons ocs #breath of the wild #zelda oc #tloz oc #tloz #legend of zelda #zora #gerudo #rito #loz botw #my beloveds #sabirah bullying vayu in true big sister fashion #all out of love tho !! <3

[prettymrswright]

Lockdown.

pairing: koffee!singer x black!fem choreographer/artist

content: fluff, barely angst, innuendos, a lot of patois (Koffee is from Spanish Town, she has a strong JA accent), mentions of God/spirituality, artistry, choreography, flashbacks.

background: you had been spending quite a lot of time with the reggae artist after meeting her at a Reggae Fest a few months back. as time went by, the two of you grew closer, but in attempt to keep up your guard and protect yourself, you pulled back. the artist didn’t like that too much, and def used she would double down on her interest. she wasn’t letting you go that easy.

a/n: to this day, there are not Koffee fics to be found so guess who’s here to change that like the manifestor human design that I am?? ME! i unintentionally made this character almost identical to me.. by accident. there are so many things about y/n in this book that is my true life story lmaooo.

I’m gone try to insert some translations here and there, even though patois is still english, I know some things are harder to comprehend. But it’s important I insert it because 1, it’s sexy and 2, I like to maintain accuracy. hope unnu like it. <3

translations:

deh - there

yah - here

nuff - a lot, plenty

dung - down

guh - go

unnu - you (plural, like you guys/ y’all)

dem - plural, noun (i.e friend dem (friends) )

pan/pon - on

guh - go

suh - so or how (A suh you feel? That’s how you feel?)

dolly - slang for attractive girl/woman

taglist: @dejaonline @saintwrld @inmyheadimobsessed @venusdraco @vampzxi @msplayas @abenomeiiii @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @verachii @shuriszn @shurislover @sapphicvqmpires @ventingfanfics

if you wanna be apart of my taglist, apply through the link pinned to my page!

If you wan to opt out, or only want to be tagged for someone specifically, those are also options!

LOCKDOWN PART 2!

"Okay sexy!" Your friend and fellow artist, Sabirah-Amani paraded your ear with praises and hype as you checked yourself out in your hotel mirror. You had been working for the past few months, project after project, and although you were grateful, you were two hops and a skip away from burnout. Between choreographing for artists and late nights in the studio in hopes of being your own artist, you hadn't much left to give. You were very clearly overextending yourself in all areas. You were ambitious and focused, precise about your work; You're an artist, and you were sensitive about your shit! However, you were beginning to neglect yourself emotionally and spiritually. You and Sabi came to the mutual decision that a vacation was much needed. The two of you spent the week catching appointments, pampering and refreshing your appearance. You give a small giggle before looking at her briefly and mimicking a hair-flipping motion. "Look you," She continues in her trini-yunese accent. "In short ting. All yuh collarbone outside." The two of you erupted in laughter. "And all of Jamaica will continue to see my collarbone, okay?" you responded, still laughing. Ochi was so beautiful. It was full of sights and bashments and raves and just beautiful people having a beautiful time. For a reason unbeknownst to you, everything out of Jamaica just resonated with you and held your heart so deeply. It had been your first morning in JA, and as expected, the sun was blazing. The bright sun and tropical breeze shone through your plexiglass balcony doors. You and Sabi were going to get breakfast as well as check out the rest of the hotel. A cocoa-beige brown triangle bikini set hugged your body, overlapped with a long, knitted skirt of the same color. A white, knitted long-sleeved cropped coverup laid baggy over your toned arms. Your feet rested in some rhinestone encrusted strap sandals. Your hair was braided in cornrows falling right above the dip in your lower back , swirl designs in every direction. It was entirely too hot for a full beat, so your fresh lash set was holding you down. "You ready to go?" You asked. "Let's do it. " Sabi replied, and with that, you were out of the room and off to the lobby.

After getting off the elevator, the two of you walked through the lobby to reach where you would be having breakfast at. After filling up your plates at the buffet, you took a seat in the far corner of the restaurant, a clear view of the beach across from you. "I know we just got here and everything but," Sabi started. "I kinda wanna jump into the vibes tonight." "Um absolutely, that was the plan from jump," You say in sort of a 'duh' tone. "But I know you need your rest. You know, some unwinding time." She says concerningly. Sabi was always looking out for you in that way, it was one of her greatest assets as a friend. "Girl, mi neva come a Jamaica fi lie dung. I got another week and a half to rest!" You say in a comedic way, but you meant it. You were already starting to feel better being in a newer and fresher feeling environment. Rest would come, but right now? Vibes. "Okay, okay!" Sabi laughed in a hearty manner. "Yo you and this Patois accent, knowing you not even Jamaican is frying me." You playfully rolled your eyes. It was true. You were in love with all things of different cultures, so each one you immersed yourself in, you began to pick up. Growing up in NY, all you were around were Caribbean people, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for you. "Speaking of Jamaicans," Sabi began, and somehow, you knew what direction this was going in. "When's the last time you spoke to Mikayla?" "Who?" You lie, lazily spooning through your bowl of porridge. "Mikaylaaaa, Mikayla, Koffee, Big bad reggae artist from Spaintown, Jamaica, your woman--" She goes into a rampage and you cut her off. "Alrightttt, alright, alright. I get it" You rush her to end her tangent, hoping no one around you guys heard. "I don't know.. March?" You say, voice dying down at the end in cowardice. "MARCH?" Sabi's draw drops. "Y/N..it's June." A guilty expression washed over you. "I know, Sabi." "Why you duckin' her?" Sabi cocks up her left eyebrow and leans forward, curious to hear your answer. "I--" You drop your utensil in audacity. "Why you assume it was me?" "Girl, please okay. She was on your ass like back pockets at that Roc Nation Brunch. We both know you're Miss Ghost Town." Sabi says reading you for filth, pulling an accidental laugh out of you.

“I mean, she’s a big artist, she could have anyone she wants.” You shrug. “Her not hearing from me is barely putting a dent in her life plans.”

The truth was, prior to your disappearance, you two were becoming closer by the minute. You really liked Koffee. And with that, your body began to do that thing that it does when you’re about to be fully consumed by that feeling of infatuation. It wasn’t so much the idea of a relationship that you were scared of, but more-so of the uncertainty of its stability. Koffee was now an international artist, who meets thousands of people every day. You knew how it was in the industry, you were in it. It was one thing to really like someone, but to like someone in the entertainment industry was like setting yourself up for heartbreak. And you had entirely too much on your plate to go through that shit again.

“Who reached out last?” She asks.

“.. Her.” You say in a “so” type of tone.

“Mm.” She responds, strategically setting up her “aha” statement. “And who gave who an unlimited backstage pass for all her shows, in ANY city?”

“…her.” your defeated responses began to get smaller.

“And who—“ you cut her off, in attempts to stop the physically pain of her being right.

“Okay, okay, damn,” you laugh. “But you know how that shit go, Sav. One minute she thinks she wanna be with me and the next, she’s in some European country, with who knows, doing God knows what.”

“Uh, uh.” She says in disapproval. “Now you know she ain’t hunching with no white women.”

You burst into laughter. She could always tie something together comedically while simultaneously giving you the real.

“It don’t hurt to just say wassup, Y/N/N. I mean besides, when’s the last time you had any ‘fun’. Let loose a lil. If anyone needs to, it’s you.” Sab says, voice full of concern, but direction.

You looked off outside the window, pondering on her message. You missed her dearly. Who were you trying to fool? I mean maybe you were a little harsh. She didn't really give you any reason to be. Sure you'd seen some photo ops with her and other female artists, but that was her job. You didn't like the feeling it gave you though. When you look back towards Sabirah and her now empty plate, she was smiling at her phone. "And who exactly got you smiling like that?" You ask, now shining the figurative spotlight on her. "Oh it's nobody for real," She waved off. "Nobody huh," You chuckle. "What nobody say?" "Well actually, Nobody is gonna be at this party tonight that I planned on dragging you too." "Party?" You say frowning. "With all these white folks? Since when you wanna go to a resort party." "Oh girl, be so for real," She says scoffing. "My cousin JJ and his girlfriend are here at her family house, and they're throwing a bashment, off the resort." Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You were actually ecstatic to be getting into some real vibes off the resort. I mean, truly you had no real complaints, after all, you were in Jamaica. But country had the homegrown, feel good energy you were dying to be around. It was more authentic. "See now, that's what I'm talking about!" The two of you embraced in a dap across the table. "How we getting there?" "You ever been on a dirt bike before?" Sabi asks sincerely, yet you think she's joking. "What?!" ꨄ︎ Night begins to fall and as you and Sabi make your way out of the resort, a warm breeze surrounds your body. You two are greeted by JJ and his friend, Dwayne, and hop on the back of their blue and green dirt bikes. You wrap your arms around Dwayne's torso, tightly shut your eyes, say a small prayer and with a loud rev, you pull off into the rocky roads. When you finally gain to courage to open your eyes, you're blown away by how beautiful the scenery was. The hue of the sunset was mixed with orange, pink and purple, and tall trees took space along the sides of the open road. Each refreshing breath you took smelled like rain-bathed plants, summer and adventure. As a result of the fast-paced vehicle moving swifter and in the opposite direction of breeze flow, your braids flew past you forwardly. You couldn't help but to smile, in awe of all the beauty around you. "Woooo! JAMAICA WE REACH!" Sabi yells, cheers carrying across the sky, 80-mph. You beamed at her enthusiasm. Truth be told, you were just as excited. 20 minutes later, you pull into a backyard seemingly as big as 1/3 of the island. You were nowhere near the DJ booth, but you could feel the bass bumping through your entire body. If it weren't for the spacious area, you'd be packed like sardines. Everybody from the parish you were in were in attendance. Men dressed in their straight jeans, belts and button downs, marinas and cut-up shorts; most with spliffs in hand. Women in their mesh top and shorts, mini skirts, mini dresses, heels and bamboos, nails done and hair laid to the gods. This definitely wasn't the event to come looking regular. The aroma of seasonings and a burning grill slithered through your nose canal, causing you to avert your attention behind you, where hot plates of food and alcoholic drinks were being given out to the people in the line. It was definitely a vibe. "Ayeee allyuh mek it!" Sabi's cousin JJ comes and greets us both with a hug. "I saved two plates for y'all, cuz if it was any later, you'd be chewing your lip." You all erupt in laughter. "Omg J," you began. "You're the literal best because I am starving." "No sweat," JJ throws his hands up, emphasizing the 'no big deal.' "Your plates are in the fridge in the kitchen. Shelly's mom is holding it down, so you don't gotta worry about nobody theifing it." "Thanks Knucklehead," Sabi pinches his ear.

"Ouch! Remind me, I ent doing anyting nice fa yuh no more, yuh could starve!" JJ says to Sabi, rubbing his pinched ear.

"yUh couLd sTarVE!" Sabi mocks him. The two of them couldn't get along for more than 5 minutes, but it was always love behind their quarrel.

"Well look at you twooo!" JJ's girlfriend, Shelley approaches you with beaming smiles and open arms.

"Hot gyal Shells!" Sabi starts. "It's been a long time."

"Naa tell no lie! When JJ told me you two were visiting a resort so close by, I had to pull you for at least one night." Shelley says holding both you and Sabi's hands individually.

"Your home is beautiful Shells." You sincerely confess. "Thank you for the invite. Look at the turnout! You doing your big one."

"Thank you, babydoll. You know you're welcome absolutely any time. And I gotta put my ex party-promoting skills to some use!" Shelley replies.

Shelley threw crazy parties back in the day. She always was hosting, and was sure to not only bring in a crowd, but a GOOD one. Amongst many talents, she had the gift of gab for sure. She also always had artists in her venues. From Spice to Konshens, Shenseea to Aidonia. Everyone knew Shelley.

"I know that's right. Besides, I was getting tired of the resort food." Sabi says honestly, making us chuckle. The food was still good, but definitely a watered down version.

"Well!" Shelley clasps her hands together. "Dolly nuh come a party fi hug up pan wall. Unnu guh dance!"

"Don't nobody wanna dance with Paula the Preying Mantis." JJ teases Sabi, bending his arms up like the insect.

"Shut up, JJ!" Sabi says, giving his shoulder a hard nudge.

"Leave Sabi alone." Shelley follows up with a back-handed slap over his other shoulder. "I ain't wanna dance with you when we met. I just felt bad."

"Ohhhhhhh..." You and Sabi both say simultaneously, gagged by the way she just read him.

"Now why you had to go there? You ain't ha-" JJ began and Shelley cooed, half consoling him, half mocking. You and Sabi laugh your way all the way to the middle of the backyard, where the bulk of the party was.

You took in the scene around you and allowed yourself to get lost in the music. Sean Paul & Sasha’s I’m Still In Love with You is pouring out of the speakers and into your ears, filling you with nostalgia. You begin to rock side to side and slow whine your hips. It was definitely a bittersweet feeling. This was one of the songs you danced to at Reggae Music Fest with— her. You missed her. But she could’ve reached out right? You know, besides the 3 times she did already, that you were seemingly to busy for? That didn’t mean give up!

You and Sabi spun each other around and shared some whines and some laughs. You truly felt at peace for the first time in such a long time. You broke away for Sabi for one minute, and the next, she had a new dancing partner. You smiled at the interaction, and before you could really take it in, somebody approached you to dance with you as well.

“Excuse me likkle miss,” A tall, brownskin man with locs down his back approached you with a smooth, but respectful hand on your waist. “Beg yuh a dance nuh?” He smiled, showing off his fanged teeth.

He wanted to dance. Why not? You were out there to enjoy yourself. And at least you know the two of you could dance and that be it. It’s not like he was your type anyway— (obviously). What was truly the harm?

You gave him a smile, accepting his request & began to dance with him. Long before you knew it, you were dancing to another song with him. The man knew how to move. And he smelled phenomenal. Your moment was disturbed, however, when you began to notice two men in the far, right corner of the yard staring at you. And not in the admiring way; it was almost as if they were discussing you. Like they knew you from somewhere. The guy obviously felt it too.

“Yuh know dem from someweh?” He asks, semi-concerned. You just gave him a confused head shake, no.

“Yow yow yow, people, if yuh a enjoy yuhself tonight, mek some bloodclat noiseee!” The dj scratched and lowered the track to speak, and the crowd erupted.

“Outside nice, man. Good weather, sexy ladies, hot tunes. If a Jamaica yuh come from and yuh proud of it, buss a blank!” He continues.

Gun finger emotes fill the sky, followed by mimicked gunshot noises.

“This next song yah is fi all a di people dem weh love the Caribbean.”

Soon as the song begins, you feel your heart drop to your stomach and you’re adrenaline begin to rush.

Balenciaga 'pon me structure

Who them talk, push get the duck yah

I-i-i-io!

Everybody begins to cheer and holler to the feel good song.

It was West Indies.

West Indies was your favorite song by Koffee. It was such a feel good song, and you were there while she was constructing it. You knew it was close to her heart. She had even asked for your input. You encouraged her to push it out and make it a single. You knew the people would love it just as much as you did. And they did.

You felt yourself begin to get emotional, but you stopped the tears from advancing their welled-up position behind your lower lids. You migrated away from the main section, simply to avoid being asked to dance again. Not to this song. Too personal.

Sabi found you in the crowd and shot you a look of sympathy. “You okay?” she mouthed. You gave a closed lip smile and nodded. You decided to go get a drink and take some edge of. As bothered as you were, you still loved the song.

“One rum and pineapple, please.” You ask tell the lady serving drinks. You know you don’t have to pay anything, but you slip her a $10 anyway.

The mixed beverage slides down your throat and coaxes your nerves and you begin to let loose.

Coming from the West Indies

And you know say we giving them the best indeed

Anyweh we deh, we do a flex 'pon street

And the stylе weh we do no moderatе stampede

As you sway back and forth, cup in hand, approaching tipsy, you see a group of girls walking by, double-taking your face and your frame. They then begin whispering. All you could make out was “Koffee” and “Girl”.

Alright. What the fuck was going on?

You tried your hardest to ignore it, returning to your state of groove. As the chorus began to approach, the dj lowered the music once again.

“Alright everybody, mek some noise and big up Koffee!!!”

You froze. Immediately. Ironically when all you wanted to do was melt into the ground.

She was here. Of course she was.

And there she stood. In her black tank, showing between her opened and collared olive green button down, with olive green straight pants to match. She stood in black clarks. Her toffee brown skin being complimented by gold chains and gold bangles. Her medium-long locs held back in a hair tie in a loose bun.

Damn. She always looked good. But she would be looking her absolute best when you’ve been semi-dodging her.

If you know me, I'm having the time of my life

Don't you slow me down, beg you pardon me

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just, I wanna just

I wanna just party (yeah)

I wanna just party, yeah

She walked back and forth the backyard stage, she captured the entire audience and held them hostage with her stage presence. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you’d be in awe too. She was alluring in that way.

Sabi looked back at you from the crowd with wide, just-as-shocked-as-you-are eyes. Koffee spotted her and followed her gaze, making eye contact with you. There she stood, taking you in. Almost immediately, she gives you a warm expression with soft eyes and a wide smile, showing off her braces. A couple people looked back to see who or what she was looking at; others continued to vibe.

Instantly you felt your body heat up, and you failed an attempted fight not to smile back. You missed her, and she looked great, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty for letting so much time go by. However, something was telling you that she wasn’t phased very much. Seeing her up there in her element, you couldn't help but to think back to when the two of you first met at Reggaefest. She had been on the rise, heavy in the media, and the crowd was absolutely losing it. She had amazing stage presence. She wasn't too harmful on the eyes either. She went right after Lila Ike, who's dancers you choreographed. Koffee and her dancers walked up to the end of the stage and took a collaborated bow, hand in hand. Thank you Reggae Sumfest! You sat sideline, watching in awe. Her set was amazing.

Not to mention she wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. She had on a pair of light blue shorts, accented with white lines, a plain white tee, a blue fitted and AF1’s that looked like she bought them right before this set. Neck and wrists laced with that Caribbean gold. Her skin was glowing and glistening, sweat parading the circumference of it. Her locs were out, falling and standing right beneath her shoulders. With her team following, she walked and exited stage right, where you had been standing. She looked at you, and your rose your hands to clap for the artist, giving a closed-lip smile. She stopped in front of you gave you a small bow and a smile, appreciating your acknowledgement. You killed it, are you kidding?

A dat yuh seh?! She exclaims and smiles brightly. Respect, respect mama, thank you. Her speaking voice was just astonishing as her singing voice. The accent wasn’t making it any better either. What's your name? Y/N. She hummed at the sound of your name and repeats it. Y/N. I saw you and your dancers dem inna Lila's rehearsal. You have nuff talent. I'm a fan honestly. You scoffed in disbelief, shrugging off the compliment. Oh please. If any one should be a fan, it's me. Well I'd love if you came by one of the rehearsals. Y-you want me to choreograph? Absolutely. She stood trying to read your expression. Not sure if you were happy about the idea. I mean if yuh nuh want to, yuh nuh have to-- No I'd love to. Cool. She smiled brightly. Gimmi yuh numba and mi wi sen yuh all e details dem. If that's ok with you, of course. Yes of course. She takes out her phone and you type in your information. "Y/N." It was nice meeting you officially, Koffee. You can call me Mikayla. The pretty girls nuh have to call me by fi mi stage name. She throws you and wink and walks off to meet back up with her crew. If you weren't a professional at work and if you didn't have any morals, your clothes would be off. You felt your cheeks warm-up and you began to smile against your will. Not knowing this job opportunity would lead into a far more deeper connection.

You came back to reality, visited with a bittersweet feeling of a fond but seemingly distant memory. How did you get here?

She performed a few more songs before making her way off stage to navigate through the crowd and do her rounds with all her people. Panicked seized you as you ran to grab your friend.

“We gotta go, neowwww” You grab Sabi’s arm and begin tugging her away from whoever she had been dancing with and towards the direction you so desperately wanted to go in.

“N-now? But we just got here!” She replies in a semi-whiney tone. You in fact had been there for a couple of hours.

“Yes now— JJ! You ready?” You ask him.

“You ready to go?” He whisper-mouths. You nod & he takes a small sip of his red-stripe beer, taps his friends next to him and off you guys were.

As the two of you approached the resort again, a feeling of relief washed over you. You were somewhat disappointed that you let your anxiety take over you, but at least you left before you were confronted. And you knew you would be.

You hug the boys and thank them before walking in and heading up to your room.

“That party was active, wasn’t it Sab?” you say, walking in, somewhat telling the truth. somewhat deflecting.

“Yeah, until you busted it, party pooper.”

You drop your jaw and gasp, fake taken aback as if you didn’t know what she was referring to. “Whaaat? me? What did I do?”

“wHaT dId i Do!?” she mocked you. “You chickened out on the vibes cuz your girlfriend came and you dodging her.”

“I did not! And she is not my girlfriend.” You start picking things up around y’all room and tidying up, needing something to focus you.

“Nah, Y/N/N, you on some wack shit right now, I won’t even front.”

She wasn’t wrong. If she did want to talk, what was the harm? She didn’t even do anything to you. But what if she hated you? And now you made it even worse, because she SAW you and you ran. She probably thinks you’re dodging her. But aren’t you? You desperately wished you would get it together.

“I mean what was I supposed to do?” You turned to face her.

“I don’t know, maybe talk to her? I mean what you think she gone say, marry me?” She semi-chuckled.

“K likes you, a lot. I can tell. And I think she’d be really good for you. But you gotta believe that you deserve it. Don’t let your overthinking cause her to slip out of your hands.”

You chewed at your bottom lip in thought, pondering on all of the different ways the night could’ve went. You always did this. Self-sabotage, and then beat yourself up over it. It was starting to get old, even for you.

“Imma let you sit with that. I’ll be back, I’mma hit the bar down in the lobby. Get me another lil drinky-drink, okayyy!” She says grabbing her things and you playfully roll your eyes.

“What? Okay don’t look at me like that, your night is over, not mine!” You give a hefty laugh, and slightly nudge her. You do your signature handshake, and she’s off.

Quickly after she unlocks the door with her key and runs back in.

“Almost forgot my hand fan. You know that liquor coat get serious. K bye love you!” And she’s out again. You laugh to yourself. That girl could drink.

You continue tidying up, even though there’s not much to tidy. But any form of cleaning/organizing grounded you, and now in this moment, you needed nothing more but to be grounded.

You were on your way to sit down when there was a subtle knock at your door. Leave it to Sabi to have forgotten something.

You walked up to the door, unlocked it, and began opening it. “What’d you forget this time S—“

Startled, you jump at the sight of who was actually standing before you.

“M-Mikayla?”

“Oh, so you do know who I am?” She says tauntingly, letting herself in. You close the door behind her, eyes following her movements, still in shock.

“I was starting to think seh yuh did forget about me eno?” And she flashes that smile again.

“How did you find me?” You ask sincerely, feeling sort of turned-on, not that you would admit it.

“The gyal who Sabi cousin deh wid told me you’d be here.” Shelley. I should’ve known. It was no coincidence that out of all people, Koffee would be performing there when I was. It started to click. This was a collaborative effort from Sabi and Shelley.

You gave an exhausted sigh as you prepared to plead your innocence. “Look, K, I didn’t mean to run off how I did I j—“

“Oh so you weren’t dodging me then?” She pries, stepping closer to you, waiting to see if you’d lie.

“I-i mean, no. Well, not on purpose.” You half tell the truth. She wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Oh suh yuh dweet fi accident?” She gives a sarcastic laugh. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and for once, you wish it was from sunburn and not your own shame.

“I just thought..” You paused, debated telling her the truth or not. Awaiting your answer, she folds her arms across her chest and raises her eyebrows.

You decided to give in. She went through all this trouble.

“I don’t know, I ain’t really think you’d be checking for me like that. You know, with everything you got going on.”

Sheepishly, you looked down at your feet, fidgeting with your bracelet, ironically, the one she brought back for you on your second date. She looks down at it, giving a small, satisfied smirk, thankfully feeling not totally closed off from you like she almost thought.

“A mi tell yuh dat?”

You shook your head no.

“So you assumed,” She began. “I mean which part mek yuh feel like seh I wasn’t ‘checking’ for you?” She lightly mocked. “The repeated calls, or the double-triple texts?”

You chuckled bitterly at her sarcasm, and also at the fact that you couldn’t pin her to be wrong.

“If yuh nuh interested anymore,—“ She began and you couldn’t stomach her even continuing that thought.

“No, no.” You quickly interrupted her. You gave a heap of sigh before you would began to be totally honest with both her and yourself at the same time.

“I like you. I really fucking like you. And that’s the problem. You’re charming, you’re charismatic.. you fine…” you say trailing off that last part, making her laugh heartily.

“You have such a big heart. And if I, as the tough cookie and critic that I am can fall for you, I know girls all around the world are. I’d be lying if I said the thought of that didn’t make me ragingly jealous, but I also like you so much, that I don’t wanna deprive you of that opportunity. There could be someone far better for you out there. You could meet her tomorrow, hell, you could’ve met her already. See i’m all over the place and I—“

“Y/N.” She gently grabs your elbow and gives it a tug to bring you closer. “I appreciate your interest in my well-being. But mi neva ask yuh fi do dat, baby.”

“I chose you fi a reason. If mi really felt like seh a somebody better out deh fi mi, mi woulda neva run down yuh phone.” You laugh at her comedic delivery.

“I’m not perfect, but when mi love somebody mi love deep. A you mi want, and I knew that then and I know that now. All mi ask of you is to put it a likkle effort.”

She raises her hand to wipe the couple of tears that began to fall from your eyes. When you finally looked up at her, all you could do was nod. Nobody had ever went these lengths to show you that they cared before, and it meant so much that the person who was doing so was someone you considered your best friend. Mikayla knew you like the back of her hand. She could pull you out of any mood and place you in a better one, no matter the circumstance. And right now in this moment you felt so safe and so seen. And all you could think about was how silly you had been acting, and how silly it would be to let her go.

“Don’t cry baby.” She pulled you close to her and held you tight.

“I-i’m sorry for n-not answering you I—“ You let your vulnerability take over, and she consoled you before you could even get it out.

“Yuh nuh have to explain to me. Just mind yuh nuh pull away from me like that again, y’hear?” She pulls your chin up to her, switching her gaze between both of your eyes.

You lean into her and the two of you share a kiss. A pair of lips you have been longing to feel and haven’t felt in months. Instantly you felt a rush of emotions, all of which you felt when the two of you first met.

“Cuz mi need. All. of dis. yah love yah.” She repeatedly pecked you between each fragment, making you giggle into her lips.

“Okaaay, okay!” You say fake fighting her off. Truthfully you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be. You wrapped your arms around her neck and hoisted yourself up, locking your legs around her waist. You missed this feeling. You missed her. But you don’t know peace. Not yet.

“.. So who was that girl on stage who was tryna dance with you?” You playfully start an argument.

“Oh nuh start yuh fuckry, Y/N please.” She laughs and carries you out to the next room. And the two of you fall into each other all over again.

#prettymrswright hot ficpic #koffee #koffee x reader #black sapphic

[loverandservantoftheahlulbayt]

🍃🌺🍃 Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) 🍃🌺🍃

🍃🌺🍃 Biography 🍃🌺🍃

Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) belongs to the noblest family to have existed throughout the history of mankind. Her distinguished father, Prophet Muhammad (saw), was the very last messenger of Allah (SWT), a personality that the Noble Qur’an introduce as the Best Paradigm. The mother of Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) was a pure noble lady named Khadijah bint Khuwaylid (sa), a godly woman with unparalleled virtues and merits, who dedicated all her life and wealth to Islam. Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) is the wife of the Leader of all Believers, Ameerul Momineen, Ali ibn Abi Talib (as), mother of the Masters of the youths of heaven (Syed-e-Shabab-e-Ahlul Jannah) and grandmother of the other nine Imams of Islam. Her name is as beautiful and as peaceful as the garden of heaven.

Her other names are: Zahra, Seddiqah, Tahirah, Mubarakah, Batool, Radiah, Mardiah and Muhaddathah. The word Fatimah means separated. She is named Fatimah because her followers are separated from Hell because of her. Zahra means luminous. The sixth Imam, Imam Sadiq (as) said: “When Fatimah prayed, she shined for the heavens as the stars shine for people on earth.” Seddiqah means someone who says nothing except the truth. Tahirah means pure and clean; Mubarakah means full of favour and blessing; Batool means separated from uncleanliness; Radiah means satisfied with Allah’s (SWT) fate and destiny and Mardiah means laudable. Muhaddathah means the one spoken to by angels.

The following are some of her titles: Ensiah (heavenly lady), Haniah (sympathetic), Shahidah (martyr), Afifah (chaste), Sabirah (patient), Alimah (learned), Madhloomah (oppressed), Ma’soomah (infallible), Umm al-Hassan (mother of Hassan), Umm al-Hussain (mother of Hussain), Umm al-A’immah (mother of Imams) and Umme Abiha. Umme Abiha means mother of her father. Prophet Muhammad (saw) gave her this title showing that Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) treated Prophet Muhammad (saw) as his mother. This fact was proved throughout the history as she cured her father during the wars as well as other cases.

According to the Islamic Calendar, Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) was born in Makkah on the 20th day of the Islamic Lunar calendar month, Jumada Al-Thani (615 AD).

🍃 Her Ethical Attributes: 🍃

Fatima al-Zahra (as) inherited the genius and wisdom, the determination and will-power, the piety and sanctity, the generosity and benevolence, the devotion and worship of Allah, the self-sacrifice and hospitality, the forbearance and patience, and the knowledge and nobility of disposition of her illustrious father, both in words and deeds. “I often witnessed my mother,” says Imam Hussain, “absorbed in prayer from dusk to dawn.” Her generosity and compassion for the poor was such that no destitute or beggar ever returned from her door unattended.

🍃 Moral Virtue and Simplicity 🍃

Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) lived in a two room house made out of clay, wore the simplest garments, grinded wheat and barley with her bare hands to prepare meal for her family, and attended to her four children with utmost love and mercy. Yet, she was no ordinary woman. Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) had the highest moral virtues and her life was full of spiritual behaviour. Even on her marriage day, Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) did not forget about those in need. A girl’s wedding dress is probably one of her most cherished belongings however, in the case of the noble Lady Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) it was not.

The Prophet of Islam, Mohammed (saw) bought Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) a new dress for her marriage ceremony. Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) owned a patchy dress before this. A poor woman came to her house and asked for clothes. Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) remembered the verse: “By no means shall you attain to righteousness until you spend (benevolently) out of what you love.” (Noble Qur’an, 3:92) So she gave her the new wedding dress, while she wore her old dress to her wedding, following the teachings on the Noble Qur’an, the lessons of selfless love and helping those in need.

🍃 Sayings of Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) 🍃

🍃~The book of Allah is the guide of its followers towards the pleasure of Allah. Listening to it carefully leads to salvation. The enlightened and conspicuous evidences and proofs of Allah can be obtained through it. Also the knowledge of His (Allah swt) interpreted intentions, fear invoking constraining prohibitions, His sufficing testimonies, conspicuous arguments, desired virtues, allowed endowments and obligatory divine laws (can be obtained from it)[1]

🍃~Allah made the faith for you as a purity from polytheism (and infidelity)[2]

🍃~And (made) service the cause of your getting distant (purification) from pride (egoism)[3]

🍃~And rendered alms for the purity of your soul and flourish and expansion of your sustenance [4]

🍃~And rendered fasting for the maintenance and firmness of your sincerity[5]

🍃The Importance of Fatima (sa) 🍃

Without Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) there is no Islam. Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) is a role model who set an illustration of the highest morals and eloquence. We should aim to imitate her chastity; we should look at her as a source of inspiration. If we live in the west we should have the courage to wear the hijab despite the social pressures as we are making Fatima al-Zahra (sa), Mistress of All Women, proud. When helping others and giving charity we should remember her generosity. Fatima Al-Zahra (sa) is, and should be, the inspiration of all women and should be emulated. She was exactly like her father, Prophet Mohammad, and we too should strive to be like her. We should learn from her honesty, modesty and loyalty.

🌺 AYAN U SHIA ATABA AL JADEED, (VOL 1, P 316)

🌺 AYAN U SHIA ATABA AL JADEED, (VOL 1, P 316)

🌺 AYAN U SHIA ATABA AL JADEED, (VOL 1, P 316)

🌺 AYAN U SHIA ATABA AL JADEED, (VOL 1, P 316)

🌺 AYAN U SHIA ATABA AL JADEED, (VOL 1, P 316)

.

[skippyv20]

Twitter accounts

Hi Skippy. For the anon who wants to follow twitter accounts that exposes the Harkles. Baroness Bruck twitter,Sabirah Lohn, Royally Blunt, LouLou La, UnlikelyBot, MeghansMole.

Thank you so much!😁❤️

#submission

[coochiequeens]

The representative (of Power Gymnastics) explained that some of the company’s locations around the country are moving away from the women’s Junior Olympic Program and towards the less competitive option called “Xcel.”  And they are acquiring gyms that offer programs for women and girls leaving them without a place to practice.

HOUSTON – Frustrations are building as parents of elite gymnasts in Houston said one company is behind drastic industry changes, leaving some gymnasts without a place to train.

From Houston Gymnastics Academy to Mazeika’s Elite Gymnastics, the complaints are the same.

“It’s not just one or two or three programs that have been shut down, it has been multiple programs,” Shannon Dickman said.

Dickman’s 9-year-old daughter competed at Houston Gymnastics Academy.

Another parent also expressed disappointment in the changes. 

“We lost time and money by being misled on their intentions,” said James Radford, whose 12-year-old daughter competed level 6 at Mazeika’s. “We were led to feel pretty comfortable. We met a new coach who promised us nothing would change.”

Both gyms were recently acquired by Powers Gymnastics, a company operating one of the largest networks of USA Gymnastics certified gyms. The company also recently acquired Rowland Ballard Gymnastics, which has two locations.

Powers Gymnastics’ Linked-in profile states they “roll up gymnastics facilities and manufacture and lease Ninja Warrior Obstacles.”

KPRC 2 reported on Wednesday how parents were upset, saying Powers Gymnastics is dismantling elite women’s gymnastics programs after HGA announced they were eliminating their women’s team and focusing on the men’s team.

“At the higher levels these girls are training 20-30 hours a week,” Dickman said. “This is a huge part of their lives.”

KPRC 2 spoke to a person with Powers Gymnastics, who didn’t want to go on camera, but sought to clarify the changes.

The representative explained that some of the company’s locations around the country are moving away from the women’s Junior Olympic Program and towards the less competitive option called “Xcel.” 

They said Mazieka’s Elite Gymnastics is closing its Willowbrook area location and merging with another local gym but did not specify which one. They said now, only the Atascocita location will have competitive gymnastics but at the Xcel level, which isn’t geared towards gymnasts training at the elite level.

They further explained that less than a dozen gymnasts at Rowland Ballard were competing at a level 8 or above, which is considered elite. 

On the phone, the co-founder of Powers Gymnastics told KPRC 2 that communication could have been better.

“We will continue to work on our communication, and we apologize for any frustration that the communication has caused,” the company said.

By Sabirah Rayford

#USA #Texas #Houston #Save Women’s Sports Saturday #Power Gymnastics #USA Gymnastics certified #Dismantling elite women’s gymnastics programs #Eliminating women’s teams #Focusing on men’s teams

[mlichaelm]

"You'll marry me whether you like it or not, my love. And you'll like it, hmm?"

Espe shivered in the dark as she recalled the day the king had spoken those words. She would give anything to go back to those days now.

Before, in her opulent room with Sabirah to keep her company, she'd only felt like a prisoner. Now, sitting in a damp dungeon that smelled of mildew and death, she truly was one.

Alejandro hadn't sent a guard down with food in several days. Espe couldn't convince herself that he hadn't just forgotten. He had to be sending someone soon...

She jerked her head up at intervals, trying not to drift off in her hunger. The occasional groaning and whining of the less fortunate prisoners kept her on edge enough to prevent any real sleep, anyhow.

A whimper escaped her lips as her stomach rumbled painfully. Without much water, Espe couldn't even temporarily trick her system into thinking it was getting a meal. The pains got worse by the day, and she thought she was beginning to see things. It didn't help that she wasn't getting much sleep.

Espe held onto the hope that her friends were planning to rescue her. They would've known a long time ago, they had to be planning something. A rebel tear slips down her cheek, but her only thought is of the hydration she wastes by crying.

Someone was coming, right?

#whumptober2022 #no.2 #caged #OC #fic snippet #starvationfic #forced marriage fic #listen i know it's mostly implied but i haven't touched these characters since summer 2020 #so i decided to touch back with it and see how i feel #plus the mods said to have fun so here i am! #also it's 30 minutes late but ehhhh

[vyhurz]

Colette Dalal Tchantcho in Sabirah at the "Dangerous Liasons" Premiere

#colette dalal tchantcho #red carpet #*** #cdalaltchantchoedit

[sirveltic]

look at her being sad

#diablo #Diablo III #diablo3 #diablo angel #diablo oc #angel #angel oc #angeloc #OC #sabirah #sabirah the sorrowful #Big Brother's art #drawing #flat color #doodle #The Cat

[cliban]

*Four humans appear!

*.........They’re all dead.

The young patience SOUL, Sabirah, aged 8, dressed in raggedy clothes

The flamboyant, splendid, justice SOUL, Adla, aged 16, hiding her hat behind her back

The cutesy kindness SOUL, Jonas, aged 12, enjoying the attention

The third determination SOUL, Arnost, aged 15, murdered on the surface by persons unknown, still futilely trying to sweep Adla off her feet. 

#creatortale #adla #jonas #sabirah #arnost

[mal-likes-biscuits]

Sabirah has left a note! "Why have you strayed from the Heavens so long ago? How does it feel to know that you have led your followers to an early grave, one that they could have avoided had you not been driven to corruption?" Yikes.

Sabirah. A name Malthael does not know, but similar to those of the Angiris. To some of his closer kin.

Rarely has he been so completely eviscerated in correspondence. Though, the writer has every right to their questions – and their anger, which radiates through their brisk pen lines and the emphatic strikes underneath the question marks.

You forfeited your sadness over this long ago, he thinks, as he gathers his materials for a reply. Have your regrets, and your disappointment in yourself. But Sabirah, whoever they are, is right. This was your doing.

Why did I stray? Because I was lost. As are all who wander, searching for answers. I could not find them in the Heavens. I turned to Sanctuary. To the place that called to me.

But when the Sound spoke, I did not listen. Their voices were a howl to my ears. Mortal souls, experiencing the joys and pains of their brief life, in a way I could never understand.

Instead of trying to comprehend them, I became lost in the deluge. I drowned in their hate, and could not see the light they were as capable of bringing to the world.

Half-truth. He growls, shuddering. 

I could have seen, had I chosen to look. But I assumed the angelic way was correct. That my own judgement was correct. And that anything born from a demon, no matter its full composition, would only breed evil.

He’d drowned himself in the darkness. A stubborn fool, unwilling to swim towards a distant shore he could barely discern. He had chosen to Fall, instead.

And he had taken his entire Aspect with him.

You ask how I feel because you wish me to feel guilt. To suffer. I understand this compulsion. I felt the same when the Chalice clouded. But your anger has a source, unlike my own. A target. 

Myself. Rightfully so.

It aches. It is more than guilt. Far more. It is a deep-seated, nauseating feeling that accompanies him in even the quietest moments. It is the screams of the Reapers as they fell to the Nephalem. Corrupted, distorted, from their true purpose.

By him. The origin of the festering, insidious malevolence.

He cannot explain this agony without reducing it to his own suffering, and it is infinite realms beyond that.

It feels like dying, he writes, carving out the letters with emphatic, shaking strokes. Repeatedly. For each of them. As they died, needlessly, for me.

It is not enough. It is never enough. The sentiment is always best left unspoken.

He tries to apologize, but as soon as the quill touches the parchment, it slides from his fingers.

What am I to write? I am sorry? Three meager words for such sin?

They do not need his apology. They want a voice. The very thing he denied the mortals he slew, and his kin, who he bid reap them without thought.

I cannot change the past. But I can listen. I hear you.

Perhaps that is enough.

Speak.

[Writer’s note: Sabirah isn’t one of this Malthael’s Death Maidens. But she is one. And I think deep down, he knows that.]

#my asks #ask replies #ask malthael #oh this one was raw #yiiiiikes indeed #it's okay sabirah you have full right to be pissed #some meta musings on forgiveness #and redemption #sabirah #i think this is the first time i've pulled out that 'despair' emote lmao

[kinkyxgentleman]

#felicia combs #sabirah #bikini

[pandemoniumandfervor-blog]

.:One-Shot:.  A moment of peace

How long had it been since she last had a moment of peace? Too long, if you ask her. Not since Malthael had been found, not since... Sabirah gripped the handle of her scythe tightly, eliminating the thoughts of her demise. Well, trying her best to. Her mind hadn't been clear since she's found Wisdom- or, his physical body. That was no longer Wisdom, he was Death now. She had to remember that. No longer could she find comfort in him; he would turn her away, tell her to go make him stronger. And she did. Every time he would shoo her away, she would leave for Sanctuary and do as she was told, comfort but a distant memory. She had taken so many lives already; doubting in the back of her head. Maybe they were innocent, she would think. Maybe they had no part in this war, she would reason. But then, as if Death could read her thoughts, they would consume her again, remind her of what they are, what they have done through all of their existence. Mortals were monsters, oddities of nature. Murderers. After all, had it not been them who took Ramma's life so mercilessly? Sometimes a soft breath would escape her; a pitiful attempt at a miserable laugh. She would laugh at her outcome, wonder if her vow had been the one to lead her here. Unable to speak despite it being the only option, having to accept her master's every word in fear of his ire. His words that once promised safety now brought tyranny. But oh was he charismatic. The others would deem him as the Wise One, their master who their loyalty would lead them to their deaths. All but her. Sabirah, the skeptic. She, who's wings still shone brightly, the one who begun to doubt Wisdom's words. Wise as she may be, Sabirah knew Malthael could do whatever he wished to do with her. She could not tattle, she would have to take her own life if she did. Such is the vow. With wisdom, comes eternal silence. If a death is needed, then so be it. The maiden once more shook her head free from those thoughts, illumining the ground underneath her as she landed. There she stood, scythe in hand, wings messily folding back, paranoia seeping her every thought. So many lives she had taken, so many begged to be spared. None of them had been spared. Her gaze fell upon the clearing. Grass who was once a dull green now a dark blue, tips painted white by the light of the moon. The trees, eerie as they were, brought her a feeling of safety, if only just a little bit. Though she may be here to find a victim to claim, she always wandered back in this spot, where she had perfect view of the sky. Slowly, the angel took a seat on the ground, gently setting her satchel down next to her. Disturbed by the sudden pressure, the feline poked its head out from the flap and chirped. Sabirah's wings fluttered, the air around them warming up. Sanctuary could be harsh at night and a feline as frail as her companion was needed all the warmth it could get. Even though she was sure its messy fur did that job just right. She pulled back the flap of the satchel and slid her hands inside, hooking them under the cat's belly. Though it lacked much fur there, she was sure it would grow back one day. The feline chirped, its ears perked up as they were settled onto the death maiden's cold lap, her arms holding it close to her abdomen. The tendrils of her wings parted, snaking by her sides to form a sort of cocoon around herself and the cat. Though she couldn't feel it, the cat seemed plenty happy with the heat it was receiving and; as one would expect it to do, it yawned and continued on with its nap. Once again, Sabirah was left alone with her darkening thoughts. tiredly, she lifted her gaze up to the night sky. Was home still an option at this point? She wondered how a dear friend of hers was holding on. Azabel. A follower of Hope who she seemed to interest. He used to pester her until she would finally take a break from the scrolls she would write, the wisdom she would lay in words. No matter how many times she had kicked him out of her office, he would always find a way inside. The times she had deemed him an annoyance were too many to count. Yet despite her harsh feelings for him, she'd grown to appreciate his thoughtfulness. ________________________________________ "Sabirah." The stern voice of the healer resonated within the walls of her residence. The mute still kept her focus on the words she wrote, merely lifting her head up to watch the ink drop from the quill as she dipped it in the bottle. An armored hand waved in front of her field of view, of which she ignored and returned to her task. Again, the hand returned, this time snapping its fingers to distract her. Her wings flared up and she slammed both hands on the desk in frustration. She turned to look at the angel besides her. "Don't give me that look, Sab." She kept glaring. Azabel simply chuckled and fluttered his wings. They were of a pink-ish hue, the tendrils never truly staying still. If anything, she could associate them to the leaves of one of the Weeping Willows in the gardens of Hope. His armor a warm bronze, white cloth decorated with various patterns of flowers hid most of it though. He always seemed calm and upbeat, even after a tragic loss; he would always be the first to try and lift the mood of his brothers and sisters. The maiden of Wisdom let out a silent sneer, reaching over to the quill- only for it to be taken from her at the last second. "You know Wisdom won't be too happy if he finds out you've been cooped up here since the last Lightsong." He mused, holding her at bay with an arm while his other arm held the quill out of her reach. No matter how much she would struggle, she wasn't getting anywhere. Flying didn't help either, he was as flexible as he was annoying. Azabel very well knew that, as wise as Sabirah was, he was almost twice her size and very well could snatch the quill right back out of her hands. She really wasn't hat strong. Or tall. Of course, he would use that to his advantage. Sabirah gave in after a few moments, landing back on the floor with her fists clenched at her sides and a foot tapping on the darkened marble of her already dark office. Her wings flared and stiff, her aura accusing. He was the cause of her oh so dramatic misery. Azabel set his hands on her hips and leaned down towards her. "Just a few minutes outside and I'll be out of your wings, got it?" He hummed, waving the quill in front of her. Sure, he wouldn't be out of her wings forever, but every moment without him pestering her to 'be healthier' was a moment of peace. The maiden glared at him for a moment longer before her shoulders slumped and her head tilted down, wings going limp. Fine. She gave in. White flag. She yielded. Azabel clasped his hands together and pulled her close to him, an arm draping around her shoulders as they left the office and, in turn, the Pools of Wisdom. "Come on, you'll love the new flora that popped up near the Willows." ________________________________________ She didn't know how he did it, but every time he would get her out of her office, it always ended up with him braiding her hair. Well, hair, it was more like a mass of light resembling hair. All maidens had them, so they set apart from their fellow angels. Odd, but she had grown used to it. Sabirah lifted the cat up and nuzzled the side of her head against its fur, earning a confused meow. She didn't answer, her mind going back to her dear friend. He was probably worried sick about her.  Or maybe, her hope would argue, just maybe he was busy with tending to the flora that grew in the gardens. Maybe even getting stuck in a tree too. Like that time Sabirah had to untangle his wings from a branch. Tsk. The idiot. 

#diablo #diablo III #Diablo oc #diablo fanfiction #diablo fanfic #angel #angeloc #angel OC #sabirah #oneshot #the cat #the author speaks #look I just wanted something fluffy

[dreamalittledreamoc]

Have I mentioned that Sabirah *really* likes to fight? ((This is the first time I’ve ever done a fullbody sketch of her and OMG I AM SO IN LOVE!))

#Sabirah #my OC #human #pirate #fighter #dual wielder #scimitar #vitiligo #poc oc #lgbt oc #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d 5e #traditional media #pencil sketch #character reference #action shot #OC blog

[millie-cooper]

Finding gratitude during lock down

In this #lovedbylatouche I am writing about how I have been dealing with the pandemic.

By Lifestyle Editor Deborah Latouche

In this #lovedbylatouche I am writing about how I have been dealing with the pandemic.

I had many voices in my head asking endless questions about the meaning of life, fashion, money, and of course the brand I had just conceived SABIRAH.

Mid Feb 

SABIRAH launched during London Fashion week on the 15th February.

The glorious 2020 a new decade,…

View On WordPress

#Deborah latouche #Lifestyle Editor #lock down #SABIRAH

[pillarsheadcanons]

We all love our Watchers, but what about characters and companions you make just for the fun of it?

Who are your favorite non-Watcher ocs and why?

#feel free to talk about more than just one! #im updating the master post still ik the blogs been quiet for a bit #pillars of eternity #pillars of eternity deadfire #pillars companions #i have so many ocs its a problem #I've been talking about my moon-godlike Zelenia with a friend and i just love her #shes specifically an oc in Deadfire for reasons and also for multi-classing #and then i have two ocs that are sisters #Eostara is a nature godlike and Sabirah is an elf ranger with a bigass bear #i also have a death godlike paladin named Samhain and hes a sweet boi #i also love barbarians so i made an orlan named Sylvie #there's others but these are the ones that plague me #end rant