#Sidera

[iingezo]

SIDERA x QUASAR

[grox-empire]

Drew an old Grox character I haven't touched in aaaages.... Sidera my beloved

[admoooosa]

more shots from my film, Boys Night in Sidera Institute I swear these won’t be the only things I post !

[the-fox-and-the-shadow]

"Sooo, Vizzy~ what've you figured out so far?"

"I believe I've figured out how these... 'abilities' as the world calls them... are named and work. you can't just say you're a shapeshifter, technically. I'm trying to figure out what this 'armed detective agency' and 'port mafia' are..."

"Firefox."

"....what?"

"my ability is now Firefox."

"...of course it is."

[bellasaraeternal]

“Dream big dreams and work hard to make them come true.”

[mysticallty]

Videns: what would you do if I was your child , and decided to eat Doritos and 2 am?

Vizerxa: ... Let you??

Dominus: give you a baseball bat to go beat Sidera to death with.

Sidera: hey- I'd steal your Doritos and throw you out the window.

Venenum: be asleep, probably.

Videns: I-

[popolodipekino]

oroscopi

Con la sua "calligrafia da insetto" (così la definiva), Borges scriveva annotazioni sui risguardi dei libri, evitando con cura di apportare segni sulle pagine stampate. Nella sua copia della Royal Art of Astrology di Robert Eisler, il più sfortunato e misconosciuto fra i grandi visionari eruditi del Novecento, si trovano due rimandi che illuminano ugualmente sia Eisler sia Borges stesso. Nel primo si legge: "Gli oroscopi individuali - 165", corrispondente a questo passo del libro: "L'idea che gli eterni dèi astrali possano essere intimamente coinvolti nel fato e nel carattere di qualsiasi Tom, Dick e Harriet - "così tanti dèi che infuriano in una sola testa" (tot circa unum caput tumultuantes deos), come diceva con tono beffardo il filosofo Seneca - non sarebbe potuta venire in mente ad alcun Assiro, Babilonese o anche a un Egiziano o a un Etiope". Ne conseguiva che l'idea dell'oroscopo individuale poteva essere stata sviluppata solamente dalla cultura greca. Ed era un modo fra i tanti, ma assai eloquente, per distaccare l'Europa da ogni Asia. L'altra pagina isolata da Borges era ancora più significativa, perché insinuava gli astri all'interno di ogni attività, anche di chi li ignora. Questa l'annotazione di Borges: "Contemplation, consideration - 261", riferita al seguente passo di Eisler: "Sarebbe difficile, se non impossibile, trovare un altro corpo di dottrine che abbia così profondamente influenzato - a dispetto di tutte le critiche rivolte in ogni epoca alle sue palesi manchevolezze - il comportamento di tanti individui eminenti di tutte le epoche e di tutti i paesi, lasciando un'impronta incancellabile nella lingua inglese e in tutte le lingue romanze, sicché fino ad oggi siamo costretti a usare un termine astrologico ogni volta che vogliamo "con-siderare" ciò che stiamo per fare riguardo a questo o quel problema - in quanto la "con-siderazione" non è altro che l'atto di confrontarsi con l'influenza dei vari astri (sidera) sulla decisione "contemplata", mentre la contemplazione stessa significava in origine la costruzione di un diagramma che divideva il cielo in quadranti - operazione chiamata templum dagli antichi auguri etruschi e intesa a facilitare l'interpretazione sistematica dei portenti osservati da chi studiava il cielo." da R. Calasso, Come ordinare una biblioteca

[britishmuffin]

Y'shtola (for the @ffladieszine)

★ patreon || website || twitter ★

[creatorbiaze]

decided to sketch some practice Vizerxas & sideras without reference selfies

[maridoodles]

Pre-orders for @ffladieszine OPEN til May 17!

Here’s a close up look at the merch I designed for this gorgeous FF ladies zine! You can get this 2.5” acrylic charm with the Astra full bundle or the Lucis Golden Era bundle, and this tote bag is available as an add-on!

Shop ffladieszine.bigcartel.com

[eljeebee]

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Homophobia

Vanderburg Twin seen Cheating from His Commoner Boyfriend

These are the words sitting in front of Dowager Duchess Margaux.

On her screen, a picture of her son, chatting with a woman on a pub probably around Foxbury. They were quite close in the photograph. She thinks they were about to hug, or had just hugged, but she could see the body language–none of them had tense shoulders, and none of them wore an awkward smile.

She rubbed her temple. What gave her a pounding headache was the tabloid’s assumptions of her son dating a commoner boyfriend–Louie Davis, the twins’ friend.

Every showbiz news network, news site–whatever–speculated that he and Louie were dating, as the paparazzi had taken quite a few pictures of them together when their friend group were out, when they were still at high school. Her private secretaries spent a lot of time giving the networks kill orders to kill every picture of the children, especially the photographs of Louie and Seamus “together”, on a reason stating that they were minors, and scared the networks that they could be sued by the parents for taking their photos without their consent. They made sure they never mentioned Mousse’s relationship status.

She even sent a peace offering to Louie’s parents, some new set of high-quality pots and pans for the father, a new handbag for the mother, and a new dress for Sidera Harper–Louie’s girlfriend.

Louie has a girlfriend, for Watcher’s sake.

Bernie entered the room, slamming the door. She could see him stressed. Obviously.

“This is why I told him to release a statement!” He almost growled. “The family never batted an eye when they said he’s gay. But I know the Queen Mother was disappointed.”

“Didn’t stop her from showing her favoritism to the twins, though,” Penny pointed out.

“Yes, Penny,” Bernie exasperatedly sighed. “But the disappointment is there. Did you see how she’s preferring Julie more than her brother?”

“Or maybe,” Penny rolled her eyes, “Julie is the Duchess so she’s more focused on her?”

Bernie exhaled. His heated glare targeted the ceiling, “Look,” he looked back at her, “the family is giving me shit right now–excuse me, Your Grace–they don’t like the cheating allegations. They can leave the boy be and be gay than see him as a cheater. He is considered his father’s spitting image, and they would hate it if he’s painted as an adulterer!”

Penny scoffed, “What, you’d rather have the family be homophobic than give you shit about a cheating scandal?” “What? No!” Bernie let out a noise of frustration. “Look at Prince Gerard and Mr. Simon, since when did the family release their disappointment?”

“Obviously not publicly. Prince Gerard and his husband stepping down from royal duties, retiring from his senior royal work, and moving to Starlight Shores is very telling. And don’t reason with me with Milo and Ramon Perez. The family doesn’t mind them– don’t care even –they’re distant relatives of the household. They’re far away from the throne, Bernie. As long as it’s not the main family, not from the line of King Pierce, they’re fine with it, because it doesn’t steal the show, doesn’t steal the limelight, doesn’t tamper royal values.”

Penny pointed a finger to Bernie. If he was near, Margaux knew the younger secretary would shove him with it, “That’s how homophobic they are.”

“Enough, you two!” Margaux raised her voice. “Let’s not put the blame on my son here.”

“That’s not what I – ”

She held her hand as she stood up from her seat. Bernie closed his mouth.

“What we’re going to do is fix this. You will drive to Foxbury, get my twins, their friends, including this girl, and we will debrief them. From there, we will ask Mousse to release a statement, which includes clarification on why he never spoke before–force him if need be, and then we will have Julie release a statement that shows support,” she motioned to Penny, “which includes a picture of their friend group, with Louie and Sidera together– take note of this –and my son and this girl sitting beside each other. Stage them to be as intimate as possible, have him sling an arm around her waist–anything. That will shut them up.”

“Excellent idea, my lady.”

“And if this doesn’t work?”

“Then we face the wrath of the Queen Mother.”

Seamus spared a quick glance to Bea, who stood beside him, helping him with his presentation.

Lou? He recalled the conversation he and Louie had. How did you know you…liked…Sid?

Louie had whipped his head to face him so fast Seamus had almost laughed. Dude…

He had sighed. I don’t know Louie. I thought of Bea as a friend, but I’m starting to see something more. I can no longer see her as a friend. Every night I think about her, her voice, her laughs, the way she speaks. The way she smartly answers our professors, the way she handles her fans inside the campus, telling them to move their asses away and not disturb her education…I always look forward to seeing her, Lou, but I’m also nervous when I’m about to see her. I was never the one to look conscious about my appearance because everyone finds me handsome anyway –

– Woooow. You sounded like a prick there. Louie had laughed at him.

Seamus had chuckled at this, and then continued, When I’m with her, I always find myself worrying about how I look. Do I look good? I’ve asked the girls about it. Julie always says yes, and Sid just gave me a thumbs up. My confidence spikes–until I see her.

Yeah, and you buy the magazine that has her at the cover, Louie had teased him by adding another thing that he’s so embarrassed to admit.

Seamus remembered giving him a look. He also remembered Louie stuck his tongue out to tease him more.

Anyway, his friend had patted him on the back firmly. You’ve fallen in love, my boy.

And back to the present. This is why she’s here. He invited her under the pretense of asking her help. Honestly, he can breeze through this presentation with how inspired he is.

He’s going to confess to Bea. Right here. Right now.

“Bea– ”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

He tried not to click his tongue. Smiling at Bea, he said, “I’ll get it.”

As soon as he opened the door, in came Louie, pushing Seamus back into his room, and kicking the door closed. He looks worried.

“Nobody freak out,” Louie said, but it looked like he said that for himself.

Worry etched on Bea’s face. “What’s going on?”

“Girl, I said, don’t freak out!” Louie let out a sound that made Seamus almost laugh.

“No one’s freaking out but you, Lou. What’s up?” Seamus chuckled.

“There’s…” Louie gulped. “There’s paparazzi outside our door!”

They jogged down the stairs, and when the paparazzi noticed them through the glass windows of their door, they pounded, demanding them to step outside. It was locked, luckily, and Seamus is sure they wouldn’t break the window–no one really liked to pay property damage.

“Juls,” Louie said to his phone, “lock your front door. Do not go out. Your brother and I will handle this.”

Seamus heard him. What his sister said, he doesn’t know, as Louie had immediately dropped the call.

“What should we do?” his friend asked. “Should we call Mr. Braxton?”

Seamus thought for a moment. He’d hate to have Bernie here. He’s going to give him one hell of a lecture. You should’ve released a statement a long time ago!

“I’ll go out and talk,” he finally said. “Just a quick announcement…”

“I’ll go with you,” Louie firmly nodded.

“Then I’ll go as well,” Bea added.

“Are you sure?” Louie asked, worried. “I think it’s safe for you to stay inside.”

Bea looked at Seamus. He sighed and gave her a small smile. “Okay, but if it gets too much, Louie will bring you inside, alright?”

“Lord Seamus! Is it true you’re cheating with your boyfriend?”

“Mr. Davis, how do you feel that he’s cheating with that girl right beside you?”

“Seriously? I have a girlfriend!” Louie scowled.

Seamus whispered back to him, “That’s the first and last reaction you’ll give them. Let me handle this.”

Louie shared a glance with Bea. She nodded at him, before looking down at her feet to avoid the paparazzi. Louie rubbed the back of his neck.

Seamus saw his sister and Sid watching through the windows of their door. He knows what she’s thinking. Don’t. He looked away.

“I’m here to confirm one thing,” Seamus started, and the commotion stopped. The journalists waited. He continued, “Bea and I…” he glanced at her. I’ll have to confess this way. I’m sorry.

“We’re dating. The cheating allegations are not true–never is, never was. No relationship before Bea. My sister and I are dear friends of Louie, and his girlfriend, Ms. Harper. I have been silent to the media for many years, even when you assumed my orientation, as I believed that leaving you be is enough, and not engaging with your behavior will keep my family safe. As I’m seeing right now, it’s not. You’re putting my friends at risk. Now, I suggest you leave, before we call the campus security.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the journalists started speaking over each other. A cacophony of more questions. Seamus turned on his heel, pulling Bea with him, and on cue, Louie followed suit, shielding them as they went back inside. He elbowed some journalists away, then quickly closed the door behind him, locking it.

“I’ll call Bernie,” Seamus said, exhaling. “Call security, please.”

Louie nodded.

Seamus looked at Bea. He doesn’t know what to make of her expression. He understood why she was angry. She should be. He should’ve confessed to her first before publicizing that they’re dating.

“We’ll talk after this,” Bea finally said.

There goes my confession.

I've asked some friends to beta read the first part of the update, namely Margaux and her conversation with her private secretaries, so I'd like to thank: @systsim, @novac2281, @plasmadaze, @authorspirit, and @changingplumbob. Thank you for your feedback 🩷

[sidera-arcade]

Everyone always talks about how “oh, didosdd is different for everyone! It’s a disorder that everyone experiences differently!” but what about things that must be true? What symptoms/criteria is the one you absolutely need? Is there an experience that almost every system has had before?

What draws the line at something being a dissociative disorder? Yeah, it being a disorder means it messes with your daily life due to your dissociation, but what’s considered severe enough for doctors or people?

[fyodor-dustyevsky]

*Fyodor gets a text from an unknown number!*

"AMARANTH I SWEAR TO XECRU STOP BREAKING INTO MY HOWSE I DONT WANT TO MOVE REALMS AGAIN ... wrong person you're not Amaranth"

(- @keiluvi-anonymous

*Fyodor stares at her phone, confused.*

“Realms? Are you by chance like Vizerxa and that horrible disease?”

[admoooosa]

shots from my film Boys Night in Sidera Institute

[the-fox-and-the-shadow]

"...Aella'd like the fact we can actually see the ocean here. I think the other Fallen would enjoy this place as well... It's been a couple days now, right?"

"Eh, who cares. They're there and we're here! hehe, I wonder what chaos I could do here..."

"damned parasite..."

[sp00kymulderr]

chapter 1

Warnings: None for this part, 18+ for the series as a whole

Pairing: Ezra x ofc

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Escaping a world that offers nothing but hopelessness, Mireya starts a journey to a new beginning. On the transport where her voyage starts, she meet an intriguing man with his own dark past. He might just be an important piece to finding the way to the new life Mireya has always dreamt of. Or perhaps he’ll be her undoing.

A/N: You may have seen this before, but it was deleted. I'm trying to write more of what I love and I have always loved this story, thank you @chronically-ghosted for inadvertently reminding me of that. Set before Prospect. Part one is really just an introduction, and a very limited introduction at that to our oc because of the nature of the story.

The small, elegant Cerphain soars along the dangerously rocky coastline of Zjara’s outer-lands with a grace few other creatures can manage. The bird flies free; weaving amongst the jutting rocks of the cliff-face where it nests, then sharply diving to skim the water for sustenance. It’s black feathered wings spread, catching the wind to guide it on it’s way wherever it wishes to go.

Mireya Seda had always envied those birds, watching them from her one spot of solitude on the whole miserable planet of Zjara – once a world of natural beauty full of creatures like those birds, now a barren land turned grey and cold by it’s uncaring inhabitants. Every night for years and years the young woman had dreamt of flying, of sprouting wings and finding her way out of the arid commune with the ease and grace of a Ceprhain.

There was never anything for someone like Mireya on the planet, she had known that for all the cycles she had been there; no warmth, no hope, no soul. Just the grey, rocky plateau and the waning moon peeking through the never-ceasing thick blanket of clouds. A place of purgatory with it’s vicious icy rivers and the bleak landscape of a dying place.

It had been that way since she arrived; eleven years old when she had been sent to the commune. Now twenty-four, every day of that time Miyera had only wished to escape.

So she found a way out, a way to fly even higher than the birds. Running away with a clear path of chaos left behind, destroying what had held her in place for so long. No more fear, no more duty. No more. Paying her way on to a visiting shuttle that would dock to the Deonida - a long distance hauler - and take her across the system and away from the miserable bone-deep cold of Zjara and it’s people.

It’s funny then, Mireya thinks, that the hulking metal transport that will take her away from purgatory feels almost as claustrophobic and caging as the settlement did. Somehow after a week on the ship she feels more jealous than ever of creatures who don’t have to rely on the suffocating, behemoth vessels to find their place.

The Deonida is huge and oppressive in it’s structure, but it’s the only hauler that could traverse across the system all the way to Tereverus in exchange for her hard earned credits. With all she has to her name – credits earned in secret through various skills cultivated in years of captivity – Mireya can afford to pay board on the ship, a bunk in a cabin shared with too many others, and a one-way journey to a world with endless potential and a future that could never be dreamt of in Zjara. A chance of freedom, if she could only make it several weeks on the labyrinthine transport full to the brim with wayfarers just like her – looking for their new start.

One of the few blessings of the grimy, overpopulated Deonida is the observation deck. Often empty - the vast expanse of stars seemingly unimpressive to the drifters who spent their lives travelling through space – the large windows with a narrow metal bench facing them is where Mireya finds herself more often than not, in some state of wistful meditation that helps focus on what’s to come instead of where she is stuck for the time being.

She sits silently and watches the stars in quiet wonder. It makes her feel so small – a speck of dust on a map so vast and encompassing that she might vanish to thin air in a moment. It’s often like that on the hauler too, left to her own devices and only interacting when trying to find a crew she could go to Tereverus with, on Zjara she learnt well how not to draw attention to herself and that modest manner meant she was left alone for the most part now too.

It’s a shock then that when Miyera is standing at the window, hand pressed against the thick, cold glass as she wills herself to feel some peace amongst the beauty outside it, she is lulled out of contemplation by a deep, distinctive voice of a man.

“I wondered if we might cross paths here soon...” he starts, making the woman gasp lightly in surprise. Turning she finds the source of the words to be a man with tired, brown eyes and a mess of dark brown hair – an unusual tuft of blonde at the front. He looks worn and weary, but greets with a surprisingly pleasant smile. It is unusual, for the occupants of this ship.

“Oh?” Mireya responds gently, pleased beyond expectation to be able to share words with someone after what felt like years of silence. On Zjara, it was rare for her to speak.

He nods, looking surprised for a moment before speaking again.

“I noticed you in the mess...you’re not the usual type to...well, I suspected this might be your first ride aboard a long-haul transport?” he queries politely, sitting on the bench as she turns towards him. “Very few spend their time observing the cosmos after their first passage”

His demeanour is non-threatening. Pleasing, the way he leans back with his legs outstretched as if he is completely relaxed in her presence despite their being strangers. There’s a certain and clear charm to him which to Mireya can only translate as friendly – after all he is the first person to speak to her about anything other than shuttle maintenance. Somehow, and perhaps naively, she feels an air of calm wash over as she contemplates the stranger.

His clothes and shoes are clearly worn-in, he doesn’t own many more, and she quickly notices the calloused, overworked hands when he rubs his fingers against an itch on his neck. He’s handsome, but not in an obvious way like the clean-cut folk from Central. A wanderer, almost certainly a prospector – dirt under his fingernails and caked in to the tread of his boots.

Immediately it’s clear this is a man who knows the stars and his place in them, and she can’t help but find herself intrigued.

“I travelled long-range once before, when I was very young. The stars were like magical beings to me, they still fascinate me now. I never really got to see them on…on my home planet” the words are barely more than a whisper, looking away from him as she thinks back to the long, long journey from Central to Zjara as a child. How different things might be if she had never had to take that trip…

The man continues to watch, a crease between his eyebrows as he sees Mireya’s expression change following those words. Does he see that pain? The shake of her hands before she’s clasping them behind her back? No one can know where she came from, not until that place is far far away.

“How many times have you been on board?” Mireya asks the man quietly, trying to distract from the change in demeanour. “Does it always feel this…this…lonely?” the last word a whisper.

“Far too many to divulge. Travelling long-haul can be a laborious task, I’m well aware of that” The man’s voice has a pleasing lilt, an odd accent she doesn’t know. “If you ever need a companion to ponder the galaxy with I’d be pleased to offer some succour”

A soft sigh, barely heard, escapes her lips. It’s easy to be alone but being lonely is another beast, snarling and ugly, one which she spent far too much time with on Zjara. Perhaps this unknown person will make escape easier on an anguished mind.

“I...I’d like that…” Not without hesitation but the words come out quick.

“Ezra” he offers his name and extends a hand.

“Ezra” Mireya murmurs back, a pleasant sound from her lips.

Sitting besides him, she turns her gaze back to the glowing specks surrounding on all sides while he begins to tell her some fast flowing tale about his experiences amongst them. And while she listens with rapt attention, Mireya can feel something intangible rise within her soul – regardless of who this man is, his presence seems to be a catalyst for something spectacular to begin in life.

All at once Mireya understands that, finally, this is the start of her story.