100% ORGANIC GANGSTER , DELILAH MYHRE !
˗ˏˋ 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒. ˗ˏˋ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘. ˗ˏˋ 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒. ˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘. ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒.
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@myhrv
100% ORGANIC GANGSTER , DELILAH MYHRE !
˗ˏˋ 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒. ˗ˏˋ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘. ˗ˏˋ 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒. ˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘. ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒.

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𝐁𝐄𝐍.
𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 had been bothering him, any worries building under his skin immediately disappear with her arrival. The sight of her is a reminder of what their lives are like. He wasn’t in some teen romcom where all of his troubles could be about football or prom. No matter how much he liked to pretend that his family was not what it was, it didn’t change reality. Immediately he jumps to his feet, rushing over to her and reaching out, putting a hand atop of her own to add pressure to the wound. His entire demeanor has changed, he’s serious, lips pressed in a thin line and eyes filled with concern. ❝ what was the assignment ? ❞ Ben’s tone is serious, offering little room to question him. Of course, if Delilah wanted to, she would. He just hoped that this one time she’d explain. He had a better chance of helping if she told him what happened. He pulls away for just a minute, bloody hands digging through desk drawers to pull out a few of the required materials: painkillers, vodka, and a needle and thread in case she needed stitches. With a nod he motions to the wound, ❝ can i see it ? ❞
part of her wanted to already change the topic, go back to whatever it was he was talking about when she first walked in ——— relationship drama, legacy drama, anything would’ve been better than having to simmer in her own puddle of self - loathing. head was spinning, vision slightly blurry ——— HAD SHE LOST THAT MUCH BLOOD ? flashes of what happened, prickling in to her memories, ever so reluctant to leave. short gasp escaped her lips as she felt the pressure over her hands, wry laughter leaving her throat at the thought. in a world that demanded man against man, and here she was, practically falling to her knees for help, for support.
“ JUST A TYPICAL LIN ASSIGNMENT. no biggie, no biggie. ” lie, lie, lie. it was different and she knew it. she had half a mind to even think lin had done it on purpose. the man was always testing his students. she wondered if he meant to torture them. low hum escaped her lips, “ i don’t know, ben. he ——— I WASN’T EXPECTING ONE. i mean, i was expecting an assignment just not this. the guy had a bag over his head. fought to the death. ” tone was dropping in and out, stability lacking as she tried to keep her balance. wordlessly, she moved her hand and lifted her shirt just enough to reveal the open wound where the dagger had previously sunk in. and then uttered in a husked whisper, “ HE WAS MY COUSIN. ”
Is that what you say to yourself? That you’re so sorry for yourself that you just can’t fault your own behavior? Anyway, it’s not true.
Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.
noora + her various “the fuck” faces

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Er det noe du skjuler for oss?
passed out but on my feet with YEARS AHEAD to get some sleep and so much time to face defeat so write our names in wet concrete to 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝙻 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴 in space and time before we have to walk the line before we all move on in life before the sun comes up tonight
independent selective descendants original character : son of lyle tiberius rourke
JUST A SMOL POST FOR DELILAH SINCLAIR !
i. daughter of helga sinclair from disney’s atlantis: the lost empire, delilah sinclair was born and raised on the isle of the lost by her mother. helga was resurrected after her untimely death from being thrown off a flight. considered a villain because of her association and efforts to essentially kill of an entire civilization for money ( along with the exploitation and capture of princess kida ), she was placed on the isle and forced to live out her life in a dumpster prison. she has an apartment for herself and delilah, void of pictures or any designs. it’d been redecorated to mimic the most contemporary and minimalistic interior designs — as close as it could get to that on the isle. helga is known for her weapons engineering and repairement, which delilah has been brought up on.
ii. delilah was trained and brought up the same way helga was : no love, no affection, brute force training and combat training. taught to see the world through the lens of survival, there’s never been time for friendships, family, love, etc. the only bonds she was encouraged to have were bonds that would advance her position and status in life. ideal goal is to have money and power, at least one of the two. not trained for world domination or anything, nor was that ever helga’s goal, she just aims to live more than comfortably and wouldn’t mind hurting others to get that ideal life. helga wasn’t abusive, but abuse is subjective and some families just believe in strict discipline, no matter how painful.
iii. a near replica of her mother, delilah sports icy locks and piercing blue eyes, and the signature dark red lipstick that never seems to leave her lips. the only physical difference is that she has a ‘baby face’ which differs drastically from her mother’s striking visage. delilah is 5′1, often underestimated because of such aspects. she’s also seen wearing black cargo pants and a a white tank top just as her mother did. the cold doesn’t really get to her, and she prefers colder and darker weather, but when it’s too much to handle, she’ll wear a black turtle neck with khaki cargo pants because fashion. locks are almost always in a french braid or loose and wild and all over the place. despite the isle’s common usage of leather for clothing, delilah hates it and does the most to avoid wearing them.
iv. though not particularly fond of people and riddled with trust issues, delilah is a chameleon of sorts and can adapt to any society/setting. she’s extremely talkative and tends to go on tangents with just about anything. despite her mother’s reputation, she’s not prone to violence but to protect herself on the isle, she’s been equipped with various weapons, including a gun she fashioned herself out of spare parts. most of her weapons were handcrafted and built by her, a passion of hers. she never goes anywhere without her gun, though she’s never had to use it. along with her gun, she has multiple daggers and switch blades located at her ankle, hip, and waistband of her favorite black cargo pants.
v. unlike most inhabitants of the isle, delilah doesn’t hate the idea of auradon nor does she hate the royal family. she doesn’t harbor any resentment, she’s just trained herself to not care. she won’t let herself get upset about it, nor would she actively try to find a way off the isle or drive herself thin with plans and hatred that’d get her nowhere. she was, however, disappointed when the core four were chosen but moved on. post-d3, she’s one of the many VKs to make the move over to auradon, though her mother remains on the isle because of comfort. staying at one of the safehouses ( aka ‘temporary’ house for incoming VKs ), she works as a waitress, though later gets involved with the king’s guard ( auradon’s military ) and works on creating and fixing weapons for them — their official weapons supplier. she’d then have her own workshop within the military base that’s considered “top secret” and works on inventing weapons. she’s chillin.
WHAT TYPE OF YEARNER ARE YOU ?
THE WISTFUL YOUTH : most of your nights out with friends end with you playing ribs by lorde on repeat. you're so caught up in thinking of times gone by that you often forget to enjoy the present for what it is. one day, maybe someone will help you see the beauty of the moment you're in.
tagged by : @nociur
whenever you’re ready, can we surrender?

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𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚.
“WE DON’T. We put it on because we don’t have to pay attention to it. So we can do other things.” Being used to not giving annoying people the time of day unless she absolutely had to, McKenzie’s near tear filled rants could be tuned out in favor of focusing on Delilah instead. She didn’t have a ear-splitting voice and it was worth mentioning that she was a lot prettier. Reality stars seemed to think that permanent duck lips and asses that looked like diapers were hot and they were sorely mistaken. “Am I?” Malia arches an eyebrow at the invitation.
Malia had no interest in actually throwing herself down the stairs. What she was interested in were the sneaky little fingers making their way across her skin. Subtly wasn’t Malia’s strong suit. “So, were you going to take my shirt off at some point?” Grabbing a hold of Delilah’s wrist, Malia slides her hand further up her shirt. “Or did you want me to pretend not to notice so you can keep playing with it and talking about being a cripple?”
“ what, so is this trash t.v. show our new sex playlist ? ” the bluntness of her question did nothing to ease the way her heart skipped a beat or how hot her skin felt, she was only joking but there was a hint of seriousness playing over the tip of her tongue. gaze narrowed at her, pseudo-insult almost aching to fall past and it was bit down instead, “ you are. unless you want the reassurance taken back, then, you know. i can do that. whatever. ” she was trying not to smile, ends of petals twitching even as her muscles forced herself to remain visibly unamused. though all of her efforts were thrown as soon as her hand was shoved further, breath hitching in her throat and she couldn’t help the inaudible laugh escaping.
“ hey, i wasn’t just talking about being a cripple. i would literally be a cripple. i’ve stubbed my toe so many times i’ve wished for death. i bet you’ve stubbed your toe and never felt any sort of pain. you probably went ‘ huh ’ and moved on with your life. ” stalling, she never seemed to get over her nerves when it came to malia. even as she talked her fingers were tracing the bareness of her skin, feeling the light thud of her pulse against her own. “ i mean, are you cool with your shirt coming off and all ? ” cheeky grin, same hand now smugly cupped over her chest, squeezing on purpose. “ honk. ”
/ @unferaled
𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬.
He rolls his eyes in such a way that there’s no possible way she could miss it, letting out an annoyed groan and slumping slightly in his seat, “ highest of the highest my ass. you think king softie cherishes any weapons ? besides i’m doing my job. i’m supposed to be monitoring what you get up to in here, you kinda have to tell me. ” He didn’t know the king personally — well actually, he kind of did. They had sat in the same room multiple times and Ben had high-fived him like twice during practice so they were pretty much best friends. It wasn’t that Stiles hated the guy, he didn’t. He just didn’t trust anyone who smiled that much. No one was that happy, it was impossible. Which made him an evil dirty liar that could, under no circumstances, ever be trusted. He didn’t get why everyone didn’t understand that. Plus he was rich and rich people were terrible.
“ yeah cause it is the best idea in the world. ” He makes a face, trying to make it painfully obvious that it was a good idea and she was wrong to think anything else. Shoving the last of the orange in his mouth, he nods, “ yeah sure. ” The words come out garbled and messy due to not waiting to swallow until speaking. Stiles brushes his hands on his pants, “ i guarantee you make more than i do. ” That wasn’t to say there weren’t benefits, there were plenty and the pay wasn’t terrible, it just wasn’t I can buy the biggest castle in the world and a few vacation castles like some people were lucky enough to be born into making. He reaches his hand into the weapon after barely even glancing at it, “ okay so what, i just pull really hard ? ”
“ i’ve seen some outlines of his abs, HE DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A SOFTIE TO ME. ” the remark fell from her lips with ease and she didn’t even bother trying to check herself. “ you know, if i were to objectify the king. but i’m not. it’s just an observation. ” rolling her eyes she was growing increasingly impatient, but not enough to snap at him. or maybe enough ? she could never tell when her mouth was going to open without her wanting to. “ your job is to babysit me, and i don’t need the babysitting. maybe you need the babysitting. you can’t sit still and i can feel your . . . energy. it’s all, ” wild gestures, circulating before her with an unfazed expression, “ LIKE TBAT. ” all good fun in teasing, she knew she was more than relieved to have him there. at least she wouldn’t have to shoot her own brains out from going insane staring at machinery all day. too much of a good thing was also a bad thing.
“ huh, you really think so ? that’s kind of sad. i mean, i don’t like most of you guys and you guys don’t really like us, but the systems kinda wack if i’m making more. ” icy discs turned back to the equipment, fingers tracing over the two pieces stubbornly attached. “ yeah, just pull really hard. obviously, don’t break shit, or i might just have a breakdown and shave your eyebrows off when you’re least expecting it. ” shoulders flexed as she braced herself for it all, purposely placing her hands on the opposite end one tug did absolutely nothing. pearls bit down on her bottom lip, brows furrowed and it isn’t until the last attempt that the pieces came apart and she was backhanding him across the face once her grip was lost. pieces scattered on the floor, and she was quickly diving after them. “ my CHILDREN. ”
#MYHRV ——— NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED. ——— AS WEAPONIZED BY MACY

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𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬.
♜ ↠ plotted starter for @myhrv·
“ so what’s that one do ? blow up buildings ? paralyze someone completely ? implode a brain ? because you are seriously not taking advantage of your skills if it does not do any of those things. ” He peels a section of his orange, pushing off of his chair as he tosses it into his mouth and leans over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at just what she’s working on. “ oh ! or shoot lasers. it should shoot lasers. that’s my best idea yet. you know you should really be taking notes on all of these things i’m throwing out there. ” Hand raises as he glances away for just a second, wrist flipping to toss something into the trash and peel goes flying in, hitting the bottom of the can with a satisfying thud. “ still got it. ” He jokes with a smug smirk, rolling his shoulders, “ i knew those years warming the bench on the tourney team would pay off somehow. ”
crystal hues refused to tear away from her current project, something she honestly didn’t even have an elaborate plan for initially but was working on a whim, nimble digits pulling away at the metal that just wouldn’t budge. “ if i tell you, it wouldn’t be a super top secret, extremely dangerous and volatile weapon cherished by the highest of the highest, would it ? ” teasing laced in her tone, she wrinkled her nose at the scent of the fruit. she would’ve thought by now she’d gotten over it, but honestly, it was beginning to feel like her nose couldn’t breathe anymore. or her lungs. it was just so strong. maybe that was why she was irritated a lot, because her nose was angry. “ . . . honestly that’s not the worst idea in the world, stilinski, i might put lasers. ” she wasn’t going to. not for this one, at least. this one --- was something quiet and cunning . . . much like her mother when she wanted to give her a heart attack.
it felt like no matter how hard she was trying, that stupid piece of metal just wouldn’t fuckin --- “ hey, stiles ? i hate asking but can you help me get this piece detached because i lose my mind and break it because i’m getting a little angry and i might smash it and they’re going to fire me. i don’t think i want to get fired. not that the pay is any good but this is my kink and i’m really not lookin’ to --- ” stopping herself, she inhaled sharply, forced grin on her features as she eyed him just a little crazily, much like dr. frankenstein on the verge of a creation, impatient. “ bring your warm butt over here and help ! ”