#naomi chin wing

[modelsof-color]

Naomi Chin Wing at No 21 Fall 2020 Backstage

#naomi chin wing

[kown]

naomi chin wing at alexander mcqueen spring/summer 2018

#fashion #style #outfit #accessories #2018 #runway #alexander mqueen #ss 18 #naomi chin wing #models #spring summer

[digitalfountains]

Naomi Chin Wing by Txema Yeste

- Vogue Spain, July 2018

#naomi chin wing #txema yeste #vogue spain #july 2018

[mcqicons]

#random icons #girls icons #naomi campbell #devon aoki #salem mitchell #iman #iman abdulmajid #france nuyen #kiara kabukuru #naomi chin wing #natalia vodianova

[therunwayarchive]

Naomi Chin Wing at Zuhair Murad, Fall 2021 Haute Couture

#Naomi Chin Wing #Zuhair Murad #models #fashion #runway #Fall 2021 Haute Couture

[carzenriq]

Gabriela Hearst // Fall 2023 #NYFW - New York Fashion Week

#suvi koponen #Saskia de Brauw #Naomi Chin Wing #Gabriela Hearst #Moda #Cool #Minimal #Chic #Effortless #Lineisy Montero #NY #NYFW

[cerisely]

Naomi Chin Wing at NYFW Spring ‘20 by Melodie Jeng

#naomi chin wing #nyfw

[highkeyvibingz]

#naomi chin wing #black excellence #black models #fashion #style #black style #hair #makeup

[evilkaeya]

Sai!! what are YOUR ada chuuya hcs?

Ohh this is going to be a long post so hold tight. Here are some of my hcs on ada chuuya based on asgr's idea (chuuya deflects with dazai)

> When they first join, they refuse to be partnered with anyone else in the agency. Despite claiming to hate each other it's clear that they share an unbreakable trust. They're not really inseparable, but they're always in each other's orbit. Both have a wall built around themselves but are also confined within a wall together, haunted by a past they share.

> Every mission they're sent to ends in success but with a cost of some destruction and agency money. Fukuzawa let's them be.

> Ranpo is the one Chuuya is most wary of at first. He's a genius on an equal footing of Dazai, if not a step ahead of him. Ranpo seemed to know too much and Chuuya hates it. Until the detective tells him, "People are built of both truths and lies, you know. I can tell both, but it's up to you how you're going to build yourself, and there isn't much to see for me beyond that." Chuuya held onto those words, feeling like he was truly given a chance to find himself, for himself and not for any greater purpose for the first time.

> His first Dazai less mission is with Ranpo, and he's amazed by the detective's ability. Even more amazed by how unprofessional he is, almost to a disrespectful extent. It's a bit like Dazai, but Ranpo doesn’t wear a mask like the other guy.

> So they both learn to trust, bit by bit, and settle right in. Fast forward to a few months later, Chuuya works with Ranpo and Dazai with Kunikida.

> When Atsushi joins, Chuuya is immediately reminded of Akutagawa and how Dazai had treated him. Part of him fears the history to repeat itself, but it doesn't. Dazai takes the kid under his wing and guides him in his own Dazai way, but it's unlike how it was in port mafia. Dazai has changed, and so has he. Maybe they aren't too gone to be saved.

The ghost of the past is still there, but it's not haunting them anymore. It's simply watching from the sideline, fading, as if saying goodbye.

> Chuuya keeps a framed picture of the flags on his desk.

> The girls are very curious about Chuuya's hair care routine, especially Naomi. He's also good at hairstyling and styles Kyouka and Naomi's hair sometimes. Needless to say, he's invited to girls' sleepovers.

> Chuuya is like a big brother to Kenji. They compete on strength, like who can hold the most stuff with one hand and all that. Dazai nullifies his ability mid competition one time, and Chuuya throws him out of the window.

> Kunikida and Chuuya don't get along at first, but they sort of become best friends eventually. One time Kunikida comes back after a mission with Dazai and starts shaking Chuuya.

"How. How did you do it for so long? How did you not go insane?" Chuuya laughs.

> Chuuya is very caring. No matter how much effort he puts into being subtle about it, it's obvious to everyone. He leaves energy drinks on people's desks, carries heat packs with him in winter in case someone needs one, and makes sure everyone has breakfast. The ADA is his family now, he's going to treasure them with everything he has.

> Chuuya stops by Dazai's desk one day and simply says, "Osamu," (cue Dazai snapping out of his doze and nearly hitting his chin on the desk) "thanks, for not leaving me behind." And he fucking leaves, bolts away almost, face hidden by hair but Dazai can tell he's trying to hide tears. But that aside, he still hasn't gotten over Chuuya calling him by first name.

("Ne Dazai, can you stop smiling by yourself like that? It's creeping me out." "Ranpo san, I think I'm in love with Chuuya." "Congrats, you're the last person in the agency to figure it out.")

#i have so much more but this post is long enough #can u tell ada chuuya lives in my head rent free #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #kunikida doppo #edogawa ranpo #soukoku #skk #ada chuuya #bsd #bungou stray dogs #sai answers #this is like a mini fic based on hcs

[modelsof-color]

Naomi Chin Wing at Jean Paul Gaultier S/S 18

#naomi chin wing

[carmddi]

Vogue Spain August 2018 Naomi Chin Wing ph. by Txema Yeste anneofcarversville

[digitalfountains]

Naomi Chin Wing by Txema Yeste

- Vogue Spain, July 2018

#naomi chin wing #txema yeste #vogue spain #july 2018

[navibluebees]

Pieces of a Soul - Chapter 10

Please read before interacting.

I love this chapter so much. It is time for Naomi's iknimaya and the bond between Naomi and the other characters is only getting stronger and dbksdbfdksj Thanks to you guys who have been reading the story of my OCs. 🥹💜

The morning of her bonding with an ikran came too soon. She went with another group of young hunters to the mountains, slipped once and saw her life flash before her eyes. She gripped the vine tighter and pulled herself to the top, meeting the rest of the group. She went last, Jake overseeing the group. He looked at her, placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a stern look.

“I know you’re probably scared shitless. And you should be. Means you’re taking it seriously. The ikran meant for you will try to attack you, too. You have to be ready. You can’t hesitate. As soon as the bond is made, you must fly. Hold on. For the love of God, please hold on. Neytiri will kill me if you don’t make it back.”

Naomi burst into surprised laughter. She turned, steeling her shoulders and walked to the ikran. A few hissed before flapping away. She twisted around quickly, eyes darting. One stepped closer and she growled. It squawked and flew off the cliff. She huffed. It was not going to happen. A giant body suddenly landed in front of her. It was bright yellow, pink accents on its body. The ikran screamed in her face, making her knees tremble. 

A power filled her veins. Determination to prove herself overcame her senses and she threw the bola up and over the ikran’s mouth, yanking it down hard. It jerked her up and around. She skidded on the ground, howling in anger. She hissed and kicked it right in the face, stunning it. 

Holding the bola with one hand and pulling her queue forward, she linked their bond. It stopped struggling and she gasped, feeling a new presence in her mind. Aside from the direhorses she’d ridden occasionally, she had never experienced anything like this. She loosened the bola and they stood there, cocking their heads like a mirror image of each other. 

“Naomi get on the fucking banshee and fly!” Jake screamed behind her. 

Her body jolted and she gripped its neck, swinging herself around and wrapped her arms around its queues.

Fly.

It hopped off the side of the cliff and she closed her eyes in fear. It felt her apprehension and wobbled in the air, unsteady. With a deep breath to gather herself, she opened her eyes and directed her ikran down. It swooped and twisted hard as she held on for dear life. She heard whooping and calls from above. The other young hunters flew their ikran near her and Jake came down in the front, leading them through the mountains. 

~~~

Keveya and Mìmuk sat close together at the base of the mountains. Keveya impatiently tapped his foot, then began to pace back and forth. “How long has it been? Too long, probably. Something has happened to her. Yes, I’m sure of it. We must find her.”

Mìmuk rolled her eyes with a smile, “Steady, Veya. We taught her well. She knows what to do. Jake won’t let anything happen to her. Neytiri would kill him.”

Keveya smirked at the image of a raging, pregnant Neytiri running after their leader. “This is true. I just worry for her. Also, you haven’t called me that in many years.. Mukmuk.”

She gaped at him, wide-eyed. He laughed. “You better shut your mouth before an ikran flies in.”They laughed together, some of the nerves easing off. 

A flap of wings could be heard overhead. They both looked up seeing all of the ikran descending and counting, breathing with relief when the number matched how many had gone up. They stood with the a small group of the clan waiting to congratulate the hunters. They peeked through the ikran, unsure which she would have bonded with. At the back of the group, Naomi and her ikran bumped their cheeks against each other and she smiled at it, scratching under its chin. They were wholly focused on each other.

With a small pout, Mìmuk said, “I think she has forgotten all about us.”

That next moment, her eyes found theirs in the crowd and she waved them over. They approached, grinning and Keveya said, “Beautiful. What will you name them?”

“Her name is Sunny. The sun is what brings light to the Earth and I have a good feeling she will do the same for me.” She leaned against her ikran’s neck and Sunny rested her head in Naomi’s arms, huffing contentedly.

~~~

Later that night, Neytiri was cheering excitedly as Naomi recounted her story of the day. “…and then Jake said you would kill him if I didn’t come home.”

Neytiri flashed a sharp grin. “He is right, I absolutely would. You are like my sister.” She paused, realizing what she’d said. Her mate looked at her fondly, putting a hand on her back. She started to withdraw, unsure, but Naomi reached to clasp her hand.

“And you are like mine, Neytiri. I See You.”

~~~

The next day, Naomi walked alone through the forest. Her Avatar body was beginning to feel like the only one. The same thing happened to Jake, according to Norm. He was sad that she wasn’t around as much, but he felt her heart was with the Omaticaya. Norm knew more of her story. She had parents, but had gone no contact with them a long time even before she went to Pandora. This job had been partially because of her hard work with Pandoran studies, and although she hated to admit it, also due to her parents. It seemed like a last ditch effort for them to earn her love which they had lost long ago. She was deep in thought when she sensed another presence behind her. She whirled, pulling her knife, but it was only Keveya and Mìmuk.

He held his hands up to ease her. “Be at peace. It is only us.”

Little did he know, that was what she was afraid of. Sooner or later, she would have to come to a decision. Deciding. One choice that was guaranteed to hurt feelings. A thing she tried to avoid whenever possible. 

He sensed the turmoil in her head and reached for her hand to bring her down beside him, Mìmuk across from them. He played with her hands, fixating on her extra finger. “We are in no rush, little one, but I hope that you are sincere about your intent to inform us of your feelings. It doesn’t have to be in the immediate future, but it would be courteous to let us know. I don’t… I don’t think you would do something like that to hurt us.. toying with our feelings, I mean. It is a fear, though. You are very dear to us.”

Mìmuk nodded and couldn’t make eye contact with her. “If you do not think you will choose one of us, please tell us now. It will be easier to make a clean break so we could stay friendly instead of with hurt between us.”

Naomi, saddened by the insecurities she had caused for them, held their hands tightly, all three connected. “I care for both of you. You have taught me so much and I enjoy my time with each of you. Regardless of what happens between us, I want to become Omaticaya. I hope that Eywa will accept me in this body. I feel more myself than I ever have before. On Earth I was lost. They hold on to many old religions, righteous people telling us the way to live, but they are full of hypocrites. I felt like something was missing. I did not feel seen or heard. Just lost. Here with Eywa, I connect to the Great Mother’s creatures. I connect to Her. She surrounds me and I see the evidence that she is real. I feel so spiritually whole that I cannot imagine staying in my human form and being so lost again.

"My parents named me Naomi. Supposedly the name means ‘pleasant’. I was anything but that to my parents. I was not the perfect child they desired. I did not meet their expectations.” She trembled as she continued to speak. “Anything I did was never enough.. but I was a child. I was still learning. I have begun again as a child, learning from you two and neither of you have ever made me feel like I was not fully capable. Like I did not hold power of my own to control my destiny. You have believed in me and made me strong. I am stronger with you two.”

***

Taglist:

@ikranwings

#neytiri #jake sully #avatar fanfiction #avatar oc #navi oc #avatar 2009 #avatar james cameron

[therunwayarchive]

Naomi Chin Wing for Roberto Cavalli, Fall 2021

#Naomi Chin Wing #Roberto Cavalli #models #fashion #lookbook #Fall 2021

[angelfishofthelord]

Okay first, SUPER cute idea of writing for your birthday. And ooo, can I request #11 but pre-spn!!!!! Cas has such a long life before s4 and an eternity with the other angels and multiple lobotomies, it would be super cool if we could get a glimpse into that <33 (you can choose a different prompt if that fits better but I would really love a pre-spn one!!) LOVE YOU 🫂💙

Prompt 11: what do you think you deserve

“What do you think you deserve,” Naomi hisses, looming over the dark halo his bloodied eyelashes are forming. Castiel sags between the grip of two other angels. His grace shivers with the stench of brimstone and salt.

“A chance,” he gasps, watching his vessel’s tongue slide to the floor. “To explain.” Lot and his family were righteous. They deserved to be shielded by the promise Michael had given him.

Naomi rocks back on her heels. Castiel’s vision flickers like a broken oil lamp.

Then comes the red.

“What do you think you deserve.” She says it mildly, an afterthought. He sees Naomi’s wings humming as she cleans off the needle and picks up another weapon from the tray. It’s made from angel grace. It will puncture right through the five craniums of his true form.

“A moment,” Castiel bumbles frantically, “let me rest.” He thinks about the crippled man that he helped to reach the edge of the pool. Castiel had watched the man crawling forward, too slow and too late to touch the water’s hem, for thirty-eight years. Almost four decades of waiting. Surely he can endure this punishment for a fraction of that time.

Naomi pulls the red curtain over him and he sees himself at the bottom of that pool, screaming for healing. For Raphael. For anyone.

He jerks away from Naomi’s silver-tipped blade so violently that he snaps his vessel’s spine.

“What do you think you deserve.” It comes out in a half whisper. Naomi, slumped over her desk, chin on one elbow. Her wings droop wearily, as if the sound of Castiel’s screams have exhausted her.

A touch. Castiel thinks this but does not say aloud. His entire form is vibrating in agony. He cannot heal himself. The pieces of himself crash back and forth inside himself, the way the ground shattered when he let off the earthquake to release Paul and Silas. They had been singing, caged birds worshiping the One who had let them be placed behind bars.

The red doesn’t wash over him this time. Naomi’s grace ghosts over his foreheads and he cannot resist leaning into the touch. Hungrily. Shamefully.

“What do you think you deserve.” Eprahim and Jonah don’t wield the needle with the same dexterity as Naomi. They lack the finesse to split him into fine shreds. They are clumsy, much like a child learning to write for the first time.

Castiel begs for mercy anyways. He never dignified Naomi with such a plea. He tastes weakness in the back of his throat for weeks afterwards.

“What do you think you deserve.” Dean interrupts his explanation. It’s a perfectly sound plan: Castiel goes to the Empty, and Dean, Sam, and Jack take down God and live in the peace on earth afterwards.

“Why does that have to do with this?” Castiel replies.

The corners of Dean’s eyes pinch together. “Why do we deserve to live more than you? What about you--what about you being alive? Safe? Happy?”

Castiel wants to laugh. Since when has he ever been the last one.

Instead he avoids Dean’s eyes, all watery and red with misplaced emotion, and waits for the spiraling river of black to consume him. At least it’s not red. Not yet. He has no misgivings about what torture the Empty plans to do to him once he’s there forever.

Just before his fingers graze the edge he feels the ground shift from under him. Earthquake, earth bleeding brimstone, and the saltiness of tears falling on his lips.

He opens his eyes to realize he’s been shoved halfway across the room. Dean is tangled up around him like a fishing net. The Empty and Billie are gone. Dean’s chest is pressed against his. It’s heaving up and down like a fluttering wing in a summer’s gale.

What do you think you deserve

A chance. A moment. A touch.

Right now he has them all.

#bonus points if u recognize all three bible stories #thank you for ur suggestion i loved writing this!!! #ily too mwah mwah mwah #angelfish birthday #my spn fanfic #angst prompts #tw torture

[and-stir-the-stars]

Between Desperate and Divine

Summary: Young Castiel tries to escape Naomi in Heaven.

/ The air burned in Castiel’s throat, and he only just managed to muffle his sob. The fingers tightened around his chin as the other angel heard it. He tried to look away from the angel's eyes, but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

"And Castiel? I can make the pain go away. But you have to want it. You have to choose it." \

tw: child abuse & gaslighting, blood

ao3

...

Castiel’s wings were lying limp against his back, the tips of his black feathers curling uncomfortably against the pristine white floor. 

His face was wet, and there was a smell in the air. Something thick and electric and strong. Something coppery. One day Castiel would come to be familiar with that smell in the way only a soldier could be, but not yet. One day the smell of blood would thrill Castiel as much as it frightened him– one could not reign victorious in battle without spilling blood, after all– but now, the smell only made the young angel's head spin. 

Through the blood stinging his eye, Castiel could make out a door in front of him with a door knob within reach, but he didn't reach for it. Just the thought put a throbbing in his head, one so powerful he was half-afraid his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets from the unceasing pounding. 

For a while, Castiel just stood there. Trembling, crying softly from the pain in his head. He couldn't even remember where this door was supposed to lead anymore, or how he had gotten here or why.

A feathery rustle sounded behind him, followed by the click of approaching footsteps. Castiel still could not move, though the air itself seemed to stiffen at the newcomer's approach. 

"Castiel." The newcomer's voice was sharp, controlled, crisp. He knew that voice, though he couldn't quite remember how he knew it. His head was pounding too much. 

"It hurts, doesn't it?" The newcomer moved so they were standing right beside Castiel, but the fledgling still could not drag his gaze away from the door. It felt important, somehow; so important that he couldn't bring himself to look away despite the throbbing it brought unto his head. 

The newcomer kneeled down. Their gaze on him felt like a hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, even though no one was actually touching him. 

Castiel bit down on his cries, though the pain was so intense he could feel it throughout his body, wrenching at his Grace and ripping a great hole in his chest and reverberating through his fingertips. 

"Do you know what it is, Castiel?" 

Castiel tried to answer, but the words all felt wrong in his head, like a misshapen, clunky, unwelcome thing. The most he got out was a choked off, meaningless sound. 

"It's not the feeling of a headache, or a tear in your Grace, or even of a broken wing. It's the feeling of doing wrong."

Castiel blinked hard, trying to clear the blurring out of his eyes as he realized that the angel was right. He'd felt a similar feeling before, right after the time he had told Balthazar he didn't want his brother around anymore if he was going to continue dragging Castiel into trouble and disrupting his training. This was the pain of going too far in a fight, of watching tears stream down your loved one’s face at some cruel thing you said and knowing you could never take it back or make up for it.

The angel wrapped their fingers around Castiel's chin, lifting up and forcing the fledgling to meet their stern eyes. "It’s the pain of a mother who told herself she’d do anything to protect her child but stands frozen in fear as she sees her child torn to shreds by a merciless beast. It's the pain of turning and fleeing and abandoning your siblings to die in battle behind you. This is the pain of doing something so egregiously wrong, you betray yourself and everything you stand for."

The air burned in Castiel’s throat, and he only just managed to muffle his sob. The fingers tightened around his chin as the other angel heard it. He tried to look away from the angel's eyes, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. 

"And Castiel? I can make the pain go away. But you have to want it. You have to choose it."

Castiel wanted it to stop. Oh, Father, he wanted the pain to stop so much; he wanted everything to stop. But the pounding in his head was so strong he could feel his very wavelengths quivering before it, threatening to collapse; he couldn't think straight, and his chest was a gaping, all-consuming hole that numbed his entire body from his fingers to his wingtips. Nothing could stop it, no more than anything could stop a black hole. This was all that was left of him now. 

"I can make it stop," the other angel murmured as though hearing his thoughts. "All you have to do is move away from the door." 

The… door? Why did the door matter? For all Castiel knew, it could lead to something useless, like a closet or to a storage room or to… to… to something, something important. No. He couldn't leave the door, even if he didn't understand why, even if so much as looking at the door made him want to collapse from pain.

But why would he go to something that was only hurting him?

No… no, this didn't make sense. The door, how he had gotten here and why– it was a blur of confusion and hurt. The one thing that made any sense of it all was this angel, who had looked at him and somehow knew exactly what he felt when even Castiel could barely figure it out for himself. Castiel had thought the angel was familiar when they first appeared, and this must be why: this angel understood him in a way Castiel had not known was possible.

Castiel moved. One step away from the door, one step closer to her. Her. Not them.

The newcomer's wings arced up behind her as though in invitation. 

Another step closer and the angel was wrapping her wings around him like a warm, safe cocoon. Her soft feathers brushed against Castiel’s wavelengths and entangled themselves against Castiel’s feathers as the fledgling buried his head against her. The pounding in his head eased slightly and Castiel sobbed from the sheer relief as Naomi wrapped her wings around him. Naomi. Naomi. Naomi.

"You're improving," Naomi murmured. "There was a time once when you would have escaped through that door without a thought." 

Castiel tried to speak. The words were like barbs prickling inside Castiel’s head; it hurt trying to string all those sounds together and assign meanings to such abstract concepts. But Castiel tried anyway. "I-I did good?"

Naomi looked down at him like she was surprised the croak had left his lips at all. "I didn't say that. You still tried to escape."

"I was afraid," Castiel whispered. He could still feel the blood on his face. It was drying now, caking against his skin so thick that it tugged in all the wrong ways every time he moved the muscles of his face.

Naomi's mouth twisted. "You cannot be afraid." Disgust dripped from every word, and the nails of her hands dug painfully into Castiel’s flesh. "Everything an angel does or endures is a part of God's will, and to be afraid is to express doubt in His will. To be afraid is to distrust and disavow God Himself."

"I didn't mean to–" the words were blades shredding the insides of his throat, and Castiel cut himself off with a pained cry. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." 

Naomi wrapped her wings even tighter around him as Castiel started to sob again, harder than before. "You will learn," she whispered. "One way or the other, you will learn."

#katswrites #castiel #fledgling castiel #spn naomi #spn fic #spn fic rec #spn #tw childhood abuse #tw gaslighting #castiel in heaven #pre series #pre canon #young castiel #child castiel