Bored Bored Bored

even in her human form Yeliza has fangs, nothing you'd notice at first until you're really looking at her and then you'll notice her canines are sharper and slightly longer than yours.

mmmm I want more things so like this for a dynamics call and I'll slide into your DMs

If your muse had a sound track who would feature on it? For Yeliza it's Florence And The Machine and Ashnikko and Poppy

Seventeen - Sharon Van Etten

we're in the mood for mischiefs

My favorite Tudor costumes (28/37):

Elizabeth of York’s blue and silver dress + blue add on sleeves in The White Princess (2017)

Yeliza doesn't wear lip gloss and only wears lipstick on some occasions, but uses strawberry flavored lip balm daily

*   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ @freakarus: Send me a 🚶 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC in my muse’s life.

Yelizavetas' Husband: Bucky Barnes of Earth: 982

Yeliza’s Bucky wasn’t built for the world that came after. He wasn’t a soldier. He never held a rifle in some muddy trench. He never got stitched into history with blood. In her universe, he was just a boy who grew up in Brooklyn in the eighties, soft around the edges, stubborn where it mattered. The kind of kid who stayed up too late reading sci-fi books and dreaming about other galaxies instead of wars. Before the world fell apart, he taught astrophysics at the university — filled lecture halls with stories about black holes and collapsing stars, about the universe folding in on itself like paper. He loved it. Loved learning, loved teaching. Loved imagining something bigger than all of this.

He wasn't supposed to survive an apocalypse. But he tried anyway.

When the sky turned black and the cities burned, he held onto Yeliza like a lifeline. Held onto Mila even tighter. He wasn't a fighter, but he fought anyway — not because he was good at it, but because there was no other choice. He taught Mila the names of the stars even when the smoke covered the sky. Told her they were still up there, still burning, even when they couldn’t see them.

He died the same way he lived — trying to protect the people he loved. Yeliza never blamed him. He wasn’t meant to be a weapon. He was meant to be a teacher, a father, a man who kept the memory of the stars alive even after the world forgot them.

SLENDER DIGITS MOVE WITH PRACTICED EASE; methodical, focused. The only sign she’s even heard Ellie is the slight tightening of her grip as she slides the cloth long the barrel of her weapon.

“Because I was the last one he spoke to.” She says it without inflection. Like reading it off a page. A quiet beat follows. Yeliza sets the pistol down across the table in front of her. Her eyes flick up only once — just a glance — to confirm Ellie’s still standing there. Then back to work.

“He didn’t say anything useful, ” she continues, tone even. “ But he wasn’t right. He didn’t look at me the way he usually does. ” Now she sets the cloth aside. Finally meets Ellie’s gaze briefly. No challenge in it, but no warmth either. Just truth, calm and clipped.

She doesn’t say I told him not to go. Doesn’t say I knew something was off. That part stays buried " whatever it is, ” she finishes, voice low, “ he walked into it with his eyes open. ”

｡･:*:･ﾟ🐬 SHE PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE HERE .. but she didn't know who else to ask. she lingers near the doorway , arms crossed over her chest. ❝ because you were the last person he spoke too. ❞ bucky was a big boy , he could handle himself - but ellie's gut was telling her something was wrong.