#blue team: vesta

[xasha777]

In the distant future, humanity had spread across the solar system, reaching the farthest corners of space. Among the most intriguing and mysterious places colonized was Vesta, the giant asteroid, known for its massive impact basin called Rheasilvia. The basin held secrets that beckoned scientists and explorers alike, promising knowledge and power beyond comprehension.

In this distant world, living amidst the remnants of ancient alien flora that had adapted to the asteroid's unique conditions, was Althea. She was not entirely human anymore. The intricate patterns of leaves and vines that adorned her skin were a testament to her symbiosis with the alien vegetation. Her curly hair, intertwined with delicate tendrils, framed her piercing blue eyes—eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of centuries.

Althea had been a brilliant xenobiologist, leading a team to study the mysterious flora of Rheasilvia. The plants were unlike any seen before, capable of thriving in the harshest conditions. During an unexpected and violent solar storm, Althea's team had been forced to seek refuge deep within the asteroid. There, in the heart of Rheasilvia, they discovered an ancient, alien facility. The facility housed an enormous, pulsating tree that seemed to be the source of the vegetation covering the basin.

Curiosity drove Althea to make contact with the tree, and in that moment, her life changed forever. The tree, recognizing her as a kindred spirit, fused its essence with hers, embedding its knowledge and resilience into her very being. Althea's transformation began, her skin taking on the patterns of the foliage, her senses expanding to perceive the whispers of the plants, and her mind opening to the memories stored within the ancient tree.

Years passed, and Althea became the guardian of Rheasilvia, her existence intertwined with the life of the asteroid. She communicated with the flora, learning their secrets, and in turn, protecting them from the ever-encroaching humans who sought to exploit their power. The asteroid's unique position and resources made it a coveted prize, and many expeditions tried to take control of it, only to be thwarted by the seemingly omniscient guardian.

One day, a new threat emerged. A powerful corporation, determined to harness the energy stored within Rheasilvia's plants, sent an army of drones and mercenaries to subdue Althea and claim the asteroid. They underestimated her connection to Rheasilvia and the power she wielded.

Althea, with her symbiotic relationship with the alien flora, commanded the plants to rise against the invaders. Vines and roots erupted from the ground, ensnaring drones and soldiers alike. The ancient tree within the facility pulsed with energy, amplifying Althea's strength. She moved with grace and fury, her every step resonating with the power of the asteroid.

In the final confrontation, Althea stood before the leader of the invasion, her eyes glowing with an ethereal light. "You do not understand what you are trying to control," she said, her voice echoing with the wisdom of ages. "Rheasilvia is not a resource to be exploited. It is a living entity, deserving of respect and protection."

The invaders, realizing their folly, retreated, leaving Althea to her guardianship. As the dust settled, she stood among the ruins, the plants around her flourishing once more. She knew the peace would be temporary, but she was prepared to defend Rheasilvia for as long as she lived.

For Althea, the last of Rheasilvia, was no longer just a guardian. She had become the embodiment of the asteroid's ancient spirit, a bridge between humanity and the cosmos, a reminder that some places in the universe were meant to remain untouched, their mysteries protected by those who understood their true value.

[all-the-things-2020]

All Our Future Prospects - Chapter Thirteen

Summary: Two years later, Claire gets a visitor from the past.

Rating: PG-13

The flight from Galadon to Paddington was uneventful. Claire spent most of her time in her bunk, after a few abortive attempts to read in the lounge. Between the preponderance of crappy romance novels in the meager library and the unwanted attentions of a fellow passenger who seemed to think he was the most attractive man in the galaxy (he wasn’t, and the rest of the women on the flight seemed to agree), she had preferred to spend her time alone, letting her emotions get the better of her. It was almost decadent the way she wallowed in her grief and yearning.

At Paddington, she’d been quickly briefed and sent straight onto a FlanCorp shuttle to her next assignment, preparing lab specimens on an industrial moon colony near the swirling red and purple gas giant Theseus. Sealed in a dome with artificially enhanced gravity, the lab made her feel like a specimen herself, pinned under glass.

She had her hair trimmed to a sensible length but it didn’t feel right. Even as she settled into the familiar routine of lab work, she felt decidedly unsettled.

She received two messages from Cee, not very long because of the exorbitant messaging rates for intergalactic communication. She replied back just as concisely: “I’m doing well. I miss you, too. Tell Ezra I love him.” And then three months into the rotation, an industrial espionage incident rocked FlanCorp, causing the company’s stock to tumble and instigating a lockdown on all communication outside the corporation.

Her next rotation was number crunching in a cubicle on Waterloo Station, followed by a specimen gathering expedition on Vesta Prime, where FlanCorps had the exploration rights to a scrubby, parched section of the largest continent. It was while in that bare bones camp that the communications lockdown was lifted, and she was able to send a quick message to Cee. But it came back with the terse notation “Recipient Unknown.” She’d sent a follow up message to the school, spending far more than she could afford to fully explain her concern. In reply she got only two brief sentences: “No current student by this name. Unable to release information on past student rosters.”

Now, she was on Thalassia, crunching the numbers on someone else’s research yet again. The bio-dome was spacious and full of plants, having been built originally as residential space for retirees from one of the bigger corps. After the Big Crunch a few decades back, it had been sold off and was now leased in chunks to smaller corps for research and development and other office space.

She had a cubicle with a small window looking out onto a courtyard full of planters. Her desk was less cramped than many others she’d been assigned to, and there was a shelf where she kept a potted blue-fern and her now slightly battered owl figurine. She rose each morning in her apartment, walked to work, stared at her terminal for hours, scribbled notes, and walked home in the evenings. It was a tidy little life, and there had been a time when it would have been all she could wish for.

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. After that first cut, she’d let her hair grow out. It was now long enough to pull back in a short braid or ponytail, but there were always strands that had a mind of their own. She’d tried pins and barrettes, but they always slid loose and so she’d given up, only tidying the wayward bits when they fell into her face and interfered with her work.

“Are you sure you won’t join us?”

It was her cubicle neighbor, Nathan.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied. Several of the members of their team were going out for dinner in celebration of a birthday. “I want to get this section finished before I stop for the night.”

Nathan shook his head. “The work will still be there tomorrow, Claire,” he said. “Look, we all admire your work ethic and dedication to the corp, blah, blah, blah, but you’ve got to live a little now and then.”

“I did,” she said, staring at her screen, trying not to look at the owl on her shelf, or let her hand move to the pendant hanging from her neck. “I got it out of my system. Now go and have fun with the others. Tell Gilbert happy birthday.”

He shrugged and walked away, leaving her alone with the numbers on her terminal, which blurred for a moment as she forced back the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

Once, during that second rotation, she’d tried to cut loose a little. She’d joined a handful of fellow workers for a drink after hours, had even allowed one of them to flirt with her a bit, but it had felt wrong. Thoughts of Ezra had loomed in her mind, and the crushing weight of guilt at even thinking about another man had sent her to her quarters under pretext of a headache. She’d ended up with a real one, after crying herself to sleep.

Ever since, she’d done her best to forget him, to focus on her work and only her work. She had no idea where he was. Cee was no longer at school on Galadon; they could be anywhere or nowhere, together or apart.

She worked for another half hour or so, scribbling computations on her scratch pad and tapping her results onto the keypad of her terminal. With everyone else gone, the workroom was quiet, and she was able to concentrate on the numbers. When she heard the outer door open, she sighed.

“I told you I didn’t want to go,” she called out. It was probably Lynette, who was always coming up with cockeyed team building exercises, even though the members of their team were all working independently on different sets of data.

“I haven’t asked anything yet.” It was not Lynette, or anyone else on her team. It was a voice she hadn’t heard for nearly two years. She dropped her pencil and swiveled her chair around. It was him.

Ezra stood just inside the doorway, leaning casually against the wall, his arms — arms plural! — crossed on his chest, a smile playing tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You are incredibly hard to track down, little owl,” he said. “Of course, I put much of the blame on the bureaucracy of the corporation …”

She jumped out of her chair and ran across the room, launching herself into his arms like Cee had done on that day long ago on Galadon. “Ezra! But how — your arm — where’s Cee?” She was babbling but she didn’t care.

Ezra wrapped her in a tight hug and chuckled into her ear. “I will explain it all to you, my dearest one,” he said, “but for now suffice it to say that Cee is safely at home on Galadon and I am here with you.” He kissed her and she forgot everything at the taste of his lips.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she murmured when they came up for air.

“I am,” he said softly, kissing her nose. “And I’ve had a long journey and you’ve had a long day of work. I propose we find ourselves some sustenance and I can answer all your questions over dinner.”

She laughed. “Always food with you,” she said, trailing her fingers over his scruff. How she’d missed the soft hairs that framed his chin, the little bare patch on the left side that was the perfect spot for a kiss. She gently placed one there, hearing the familiar hum of pleasure from Ezra that always sent a jolt of desire through her body.

“Without food, we cannot survive,” he said. “And if we don’t eat soon, I fear we will find our way to a private place to satisfy another sort of hunger, and then we will waste away, leaving Cee bereft and alone.”

She ran her hand over his stomach, which while firm and muscular, had a layer of middle aged flab, just like her own. “It would take a long time for us to starve to death,” she said.

“And yet, we would,” he said, his voice hot and buzzing in her ear. “I would forsake food and drink and sunlight and air for the chance to be one with you again.”

She couldn’t breathe for a moment, every nerve ending her body short circuited by his words. “I think we can spare enough time to eat and talk before we get to that,” she finally managed to say.

“Good,” Ezra said with a laugh. “Because honestly, little owl, I am starving!” Right on cue, his stomach growled, which made her laugh as well.

“Let’s feed the beast,” she said, patting his belly again. “I know a little pho place not far from here that has generous portions. And private booths.”

******************************************************

The scent of broth filled Ezra’s nostrils as the server placed steaming bowls in front of them. He hadn’t eaten for almost ten hours, and the soup was a lovely sight to behold. And yet still not as lovely as the woman sitting across from him. His eyes drank her in, his beloved little owl. He could hardly believe she was really there; so many times over the past two years, he’d imagined her, wondered where she was and what she was doing and now she was here in front of him, her eyes shining as she ignored her meal to concentrate on him. He was an incredibly lucky man, in more ways than one.

“Eat,” he said, picking up his spoon. “Let’s get some sustenance into our bellies before we get down to the hard work of catching up on lost time.”

“You can start with that,” she said, nodding at his right hand, which held the spoon deftly now, a far cry from his first pitiful attempts at using the prosthetic.

“I will,” he promised. “But for now … eat.”

The pho was delicious, and once he started in on it, he couldn’t stop. Claire smiled at him. “You really are hungry,” she said softly.

“One tends to forget about quotidian things like food when one is focused on a noble goal,” he replied, slurping a noodle into his mouth.

She gave him a sly look. “I wouldn’t call getting me into bed a noble goal,” she said.

He shook his head. Same old Claire, full of wit and just a hint of naughtiness. “Although that is one of my more immediate goals,” he admitted, “it is not the ultimate one. As you will soon learn. But now, let me finish my meal in peace.”

He savored the last bits of the soup, taking his time just to aggravate her. He knew she was impatient to learn what he had been up to, but he liked making her wait just a bit longer. She’d done the same to him on occasion, usually in bed, and turn about was always fair play.

He drank the last of the broth and put down his bowl. Claire raised her eyebrows expectantly and he relented.

“Let me begin with this,” he said, holding up his new right hand, flexing the fingers. He was quite used to it now, but there were still moments when he looked at it in astonishment.

He told her how he’d broken down and told Cee about the offer from MedCorps, how Cee had hounded him to at least contact them and find out more details. How he had relented and found the contract acceptable, had left Cee behind at school while he flew off to a MedCorps station on one of the more prestigious worlds and submitted to experimentation in exchange for the promise of a new, fully functional limb.

He glossed over the pain of the nerve grafts that left him drugged to the gills and still writhing in his narrow bed, his left arm strapped down to keep him from tearing at the fierce burning where his stump met the prosthetic. He omitted the anti-rejection meds that made him so sick to his stomach that he could hardly eat for three weeks. But he did tell her about the long days of therapy where he learned to use the new arm, how it slowly went from a dead weight to a true part of him. And the reams of data MedCorps extracted from him, the knowledge that would be used to not only help others but to make the corporation more profitable.

“I was only able to understand about three-quarters of the science they threw at me,” he admitted. “But the technology is impressive. A true fusion of the human nervous system and cybernetic artistry. It’s all gears and pulleys and wires in there, but my brain thinks it’s muscle and sinew.”

“It’s amazing,” Claire said, reaching out for his hand. He slid his fingers between hers. It was an odd sensation; he could feel her hand, but it was as if he had a permanent surgical glove over his skin, a ghostly barrier between them. It was real and not real at the same time. He’d gotten used to it when working with objects, but it was disorienting now that he was skin to skin (so to speak) with another human. A little shudder ran through his arm.

“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, loosening her hold. “Did I hurt you? Is it still sensitive?”

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head, as much to clear his brain as to emphasize his words. “It’s hard to explain. I can feel you but I can’t feel you.” He squeezed her hand. “I have complete control of the hand and arm, but the sensors in the skin aren’t as sensitive as nerve endings. It’s like wearing a glove all the time.”

She nodded, a slight furrow between her brows as she tried to understand. After a moment, she brought her other hand up and took his left. This felt right, familiar, their fingers intertwining as they had so many times before. He could feel her warmth, the lines on her palm, the subtle movement of tendons and bones beneath her skin. This was home.

“Did you go back to Galadon?,” she asked. “I lost contact with Cee when the corp went on communication lockdown, and when I was finally able to get a message out, the school said she wasn’t there any more.”

He nodded, still marveling at her touch. “I did, and Cee is still there, but no longer at school.” He wasn’t quite sure how to explain the next part coherently.

“Did — did you run out of money?” Claire asked carefully. “Because you left for a year?”

“Well, yes,” Ezra admitted, “but that’s not why she left school. I could have paid her tuition month by month, but circumstances favored a different path for us.” He bit his lower lip. It was harder than he’d expected.

Claire let go of his hands and sat back. “Take your time,” she said.

“On the way back to Galadon, after my contract with MedCorps was fulfilled,” he began, “I struck up a conversation with a gentleman with whom I had a few acquaintances in common.” As he started talking, it got easier, and he was soon in storytelling mode, unspooling the events for her.

He told her about the man’s inside information about a tempting new prospecting opportunity, and how when he’d mentioned it to Cee she’d immediately seen the unique possibility that presented itself to them.

“It was her idea to leave school and enter an apprenticeship with Ms Goode the bookbinder,” he said. “She’d done a few extra curricular projects with her while I was gone and the two of them agreed she has a future in the craft. And it was also Cee’s idea for me to come here, after the mission was completed.”

Claire raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small vial, half filled with tiny metal pellets. It still boggled his mind that such a dull looking material was worth so much more than silver or gold or any other shiny substance in the known universe.

“This is noridium,” he said. “An extremely rare element, a metal more highly prized than gold or platinum or any of the lanthanides. Absolutely vital for the new generation of cybernetics that are in the works. It was discovered less than a century ago and only a few deposits of any note have been found. The most recent one is on the fourth moon of Cerberus Seven.”

“That’s really new territory,” she said, picking up the vial. “Only two surveys have been in that system so far.”

He nodded. “And no one owns the rights to the so-called Blue Moon yet,” he said. “Or at least, they didn’t until a few weeks ago. It now belongs to MegaCorps, like so much of that sector.”

“How much is this worth?,” she asked, turning the vial around and around.

He quoted the exorbitant amount currently on record with the exchanges. “That’s for pure noridium,” he said. “This is slightly impure, maybe six or seven percent short, so a bit less.”

“And how did you get hold of it?”

He smiled. “That is a tale in and of itself, but we will save that for a later time. For now, I shall give you the basic details: Noridium is found in certain types of rock, and is usually extracted by crushing tons of ore, processing it with chemicals and other methods of varying toxicity, and then throwing out everything except the noridium residue. It is expensive and time consuming and very dangerous to anyone not safely encased in the control rooms of the gargantuan machinery that only a large corp can afford. However … on the Blue Moon, we had a small assist from Nature herself.

“There are a few places where the noridium bearing rocks have weathered into gravel and sand and — most importantly for our purposes — soil. And in these places, there lives a curious creature, a type of worm something like the great sand worms in the old Dune novels, although these are much more diminutive.” He suppressed a grin at Claire’s rapt expression. He was in full lecture mode and she was in full scientist mode, soaking in knowledge about the universe. “Like most worms and such, these creatures burrow through the ground, ingesting soil, digesting the organic bits and excreting the rest out the back end. With one important exception.” He lifted the vial. “Noridium is heavy. It settles in a pouch in the digestive tract of these worms and is stored there until the pouch is full. At that point, the worms expel it. As pellets. Which means the erstwhile prospector needs not industrial machinery but the simpler technology of shovel and sifter. Lots of digging, lots of lifting, but also — a lot of reward if you can find the right spot.”

“How long were you there?” Claire asked.

“About six standard months.”

“And this is all you got? For six months’ work?”

Now he laughed out loud. “No, no, this is merely a sample. The rest of my haul — all ten kilos of it — is locked in the safe in my hotel room.”

“Not on Galadon? Why did you bring it with you?”

“Because I’m here to bring you home, little owl,” he said.

[luseals]

Art Fight made me realize that I never draw my own OCs?? Time to fix that!

[durotoswrites]

I know there's not much to work with, but if you're still doing these, could you do a character analysis for Skye?

Skye, the elusive, self-proclaimed Phantom-Thief.  Exclusive to Harvest Moon DS Cute as a special bachelor.  Oh, don’t worry - I have some thoughts on him, hehe.

How I feel about this character:

Harvest Moon DS was one of the first titles I played, and I was so eager to play it on release day on my chunky blue DS.  All glitches aside, I think it’s a wonderful game.  My previous game being the original for the SNES, I loved all the new features.  I was tickled to find a copy of HMDS Cute at a pawn shop for a few dollars, as I heard that they had fixed a lot of the bugs and had a few new features.

One of those being a special bachelor.  (Technically there are special bachelors, but Mason is a completely different story.)

I remember starting both of my files - one as Pony and one as Claire.  Being a veteran to HMDS, I already had plans on how I wanted to differ the farms.  Pony was going to focus on livestock, while Claire grew crops.  I had already played as Claire in MFoMT, so I was eager to start my file as Pony and marry the special bachelor, Skye!

I knew very little about him other than his appearance and that he was an exclusive character.  I loved the cast of Forget-Me-Not Valley, so I was so stoked to have a new face show up.

But then he opened his mouth to speak.

I quickly learned that Skye was not my type AT ALL.  Using eloquent words and flaunting his pretty-boy looks, he smooth-talked people out of their hard earned goods.  He fancied himself the Prince of the Stars and often talked about how mysterious he was.

(No, Skye, I really don’t.)

His events were very different than the rest of the marriage candidates in the game.  Skye would leave a note at a location, stating he would steal something, and then he would attack the proprietors with his “Chick Beam” (more thoughts on that later) and make off with the goods, not without casting a flirtation at the main character on his way out.

I’m aware the whole elusive phantom thief trope is a thing, and it feels like an odd mix in a small farming community like Forget-Me-Not of all places.  The only place that really seems to have anything expensive in it would be Romana’s mansion - other than that, these are just humble people living in the middle of a small farming community.  I doubt Griffin was raking in the cash at the Blue Bar, so it felt strange to rob him, unless Skye was really that desperate for a drink.  I can imagine Vesta being a little more wealthy, selling seeds to other farms in the area (including Mineral Town in my headcanons), but I still can’t figure out why Marlin didn’t/couldn’t go after him, as he wouldn’t be affected by the Chick Beam?  Anyway, I felt that a lot of the thief scenes felt a bit forced and that the main character was living one of the episodes of the cheesy weekly specials they show on the in-game television.

Skye does open up to the main character briefly during his blue heart scene, confessing his love of experimenting with making different kinds of curry, but he has trouble getting it to taste just right.  You can suggest that he isn’t cooking with enough love, which he finds amusing, but he seems to take to heart.  It seems like we’re going to finally get to see a more vulnerable side of Skye…

That is, until his final heart scene.  The whole town decides to work together to catch Skye and stop him once and for all.  Honestly, it’s pretty neat to see so many characters in one scene together who usually don’t interact working together as a team.  I love how Rock is leading the team, eager to be the one to catch the thief.

Skye obviously doesn’t want to get run out of town and bumps into the main character.

If we agree, he tells the MC she looks pretty in his usual overly flowery way and leaves her to deal with the mess of betraying all the townsfolk.

Lying to all of the townspeople that I had been befriending up until then really left a sour taste in my mouth.  It really felt like I had to pick between him or the rest of the town. And it was at that point where I realized every single heart event revolved around Skye getting what he wanted by using others, including the main character.

We never find out why Skye is robbing people, either.  I got the feeling that Skye’s overly confident air was a bit of a defense mechanism, but we never really see him drop the “act”, even after marriage.  So maybe that’s just the way he is?  It felt a little hollow, and I would’ve liked to see a more down-to-earth Skye who realizes he doesn’t have to get by from stealing.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Sorry, I don’t have any. 😓 I feel that Skye needs to get his life together and realize that he can’t get by on his charm alone to get whatever he wants.  And since we are given so little about his actual character, it’s really hard to tell who he would be compatible with.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

No one in Forget-Me-Not Valley, for sure!  They all are eager to run him out, as he is constantly trying to steal from their businesses.

Perhaps Skye and Gourmet could talk curry recipes together, as they both really like it.  Maybe Gourmet could give him tips to get that perfect flavor.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Skye’s behavior raises a lot of red flags for me.  My biggest complaint is if you choose to propose to him, he plans on coming to your house to steal your blue feather.

It’s a bit of an “if I can’t have you, no one can” mentality, and I find it really uncomfy.  Just as he steals objects, he plans on “stealing” the main character’s heart.

Skye’s “Chick Beam” leaves girls literally paralyzed and he continues to have conversations with them, whether they want him to or not.  If this ability really works, it’s kinda scary when you think of how it can be abused.  Red flags all around.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish they had elaborated on Skye a bit.  A lotta bit. 

Yeah, I get he’s mysterious, but what is he doing in a small town like this?  Why not go somewhere with more valuables - is he currently hiding from a theft that ended badly?  Why did he choose to become a thief?  What is he saving his money for?  What is the “Chick Beam” and does it truly work?  Is he human, or does he possess similar powers to the Witch Princess?  We honestly know so little from him outside of this “mysterious air” he puts on as a security blanket, and I don’t really feel like he removes that after marriage, either.

Outward appearances are very important to Skye.  He presents himself in fashionable clothing and speaks in honeyed words.  Whether this is for him to work his charisma to steal more easily, we’re not entirely sure.  Maybe he just came from a wealthy family that dresses and speaks that way, although my gut points to the first reason.

Skye might not be my favorite character in the series, but he definitely stands out and leaves the player with a lot more questions than answers.  And unanswered questions are fun for headcanons!

Thank you so much for the ask!  Skye does have a bit of intrigue to him and there’s a lot of blanks for the player to fill in for themselves.  Definitely makes you think a bit! ;)

[abbidavisart]

The Sailor Quartet aka The Asteroid Senshi aka Crystal Tokyo’s Sailor Scouts! As always, infodump below the cut

AIGHT So I know the popular idea is that the Asteroid Senshi (Vesta, Juno, Ceres, and Pallas) kind of take the place of the Solar Senshi (Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, and Venus) with an older Chibi Moon acting as Leader/Princess BUT because the Solar Senshi are still around in 30th Century Crystal Tokyo I see them less as stand-ins and more as an independent team fulfilling a similar role like the Shitennou. In conjunction I don’t think Chibiusa will take on the Sailor Moon moniker as is; rather I think she would take on a variant that’s more unique to her. I haven’t really decided what her title would be though. I also think she’d develop a color scheme closer to Usagi’s because while All Pink works for a kid character I don’t think it holds up as well for an Adult Chibiusa. (I also haven’t settled on a color scheme for her though lol woops. Maybe something with violet as a reference to King Endymion?) As for Chibiusa’s powers, I know she’s supposed to be basically just like Usagi, but she’s got two parents gdi and I think she’d have several of her dad’s traits as well. I can see her with some rose themed attacks, and being an empath like Mamoru. Physically while she is mostly like Usagi I think she’d be slightly taller and ever so slightly leaner; as well as wearing glasses like her dad. Also shes in dating both Helios AND Hotaru fite me

Vesta (red) is the second in command after Ceres (pink). If Ceres is the Venus of the group Vesta is the Mars; Juno (Green) and Pallas (Blue) are thus the Jupiter and Mercury, respectively. Pallas is the least similar to her Solar counterpart; rather than being an intelligent tactician she’s more of an emotional anchor. Of the four she’s the least like an “older sister” to Chibiusa. Like Jupiter, Juno is the heavy hitter and is more “delinquent-like” than the other girls, but she doesn’t have the same girlish side that Makoto does. I gave her a darker skin tone and made her hair a combination of braids and afro-puffs, mostly cause I thought it’d be cute. Vesta is hotheaded like Mars, but with less “lady-like” elegance. She’s straight forward and blunt. Ceres acts as Chibiusa’s body double on the odd occasion they ever need one, so I’ve made her just taller than Chibiusa with a slightly slimmer figure and a similarly pale skintone. I’ve made their Sailor Fuku slightly more individualized, bringing in elements from their Amazoness outfits as well as a few details I thought would fit them. Hotaru is Chibiusa’s goth girlfriend. She’s a death themed lesbian to Chibiusa’s life/heart themed bisexual. She was raised by her 3 queer parents and something something time shenanigans so she and Chibiusa can be grown together. Helios is also there he’s in the background being the malewife to Chibiusa and Hotaru’s girlboss or something idk I just don’t think he’s super interesting ok I didn’t add her to this lineup, but I also headcanon the next incarnation of Sailor Pluto (Not a Setsuna reincarnation, a new girl to inherit her powers after her death in 30th Century Crystal Tokyo) to join the team as their younger “senshi in-training” counterpart.

[liquidstar]

old people......

another pair of ocs drawings i finished ^_^ things have been sooo busy lately and they took me a while but this makes 22 of the main guild finished! hopefully i can knock out the remaining ones soon too. as for these two geezers ill put info about them under the cut as usual!

The lady in pink is Vesta, named of course for the brightest asteroid, which in turn derives its name from the Roman goddess of the hearth and home. And Vesta is, and has always been, an incredibly vital part of the guild’s family dynamic. She was the first person to ever be born and raised in the guild, over 70 years ago, and she became it’s heart. Though she may not be a sweet bubbly young girl anymore, she remains the guilds healer, through her purifying fire ability. Though it does highlight her self-sacrificial nature, she always puts others before herself. It may not be as apparent now, she’s grown a bit less patient in her old age, and many things in her past have left her a bit more jaded. Her care and love for her family, and her tendency to put them before everything, stays the same. She’s the guild’s stricter grandma who won’t hesitate to scold you for doing dumb shit to hurt yourself.

And the man in blue is Pyxis, named after the constellation Pyxis Nautica, meaning “mariner's compass.” Back in his glory days, he was sort of the navigator of a team comprising of himself, Vesta, Venus, and one other character. He’s also the only one not named after a Roman god, but he sure doesn’t act like it. To this day he’s incredibly arrogant, in both his skills and intelligence, and his ego isn’t even unearned, which is the frustrating part. His ability is in his sword slice- he can swing his sword and send out a powerful slash of wind alongside it. So powerful it could cut through anything, but the catch is it gets 50% weaker each time he uses it until he has the time to recharge. But he’s always confident that he’ll only need one slice. Nowadays he occasionally steps in as a navigator for Vela’s crew, or handling the guilds finances. In terms of personality he doesn’t behave much differently than he did when he was a cocky young 20-something though. He’s just the guild’s cool grandpa, in his mind at least.

[ihearthes]

Golden Rod

(inspired by Golden MV)

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (2nd person) Rating: Smut (18+ only) Word Count: 2829

“Thanks for the ride, Ryan!” you call, waving at Lambert’s assistant as he drives away to the garages on the Vesta. “Ciao!” 

Excited to show Harry your new lingerie, you enter the villa where the team has been staying. “Is he done for the day, Ben?” The words are muffled behind the cloth mask you’ve insisted is essential despite the drop in Italy’s coronavirus cases. 

The Fulwell 73 producer points upstairs without a word before bending over the video footage he’s scouring with the director. The opulent surroundings have been modernized, and you grin while mounting the stairs to the top floor where the master suite consumes the entire space. From the expansive open windows, you view the Tyrrhenian Sea, causing you to literally pinch yourself. How had life blessed you in such a way? Giddy, you continue up the stone steps.

Kicking off your sandals, you curl your toes into the cool, smooth tile. Fuck. This had been the perfect day. Swimming in the infinity pool during the morning with endless fresh fruits at your fingertips whenever you stepped out of the water to feel the warm sun on your skin. A socially distanced lunch of Insalata Di Mare Campanese (Seafood Salad) with Molly in a local restaurant. A trip to the stores with the adorable stylist Ryan -- where he’d introduced you to a new designer of gloriously sexy lingerie! 

You’d bought four pieces. 

Harry was going to love all of them, and you couldn’t wait to showcase them in your own private fashion show on the secure top floor of the Italian villa. 

Stopping in the marbled bathroom, you draw in a deep breath at the chill on your heated feet. Quickly, you wash your hands, singing “Happy Birthday” twice like you’d been taught to ensure 20 seconds has elapsed. No way were you going to be responsible for inadvertently passing along the virus to your boyfriend during the Golden music video shoot. He’d end up missing out on filming the music video and the upcoming Don’t Worry Darling if he tested positive. Carefully removing your mask, you toss it into the laundry hamper before washing your hands a second time. 

Tiptoeing out of the bath, you wonder where the man of the hour might be. Napping? Nope. Not in the bed. On the loggia, you spy Harry settled in a chair, staring into space. 

“Can’t blame you, Styles. That’s one hell of a view.” Gazing over the colorful boats moored in the sea near the coast, your eyes feast on the sky with its tints of reds, pinks, yellows, and oranges as the sun begins to sink into the water. Honestly, you expect to hear a sizzle as the bright ball of gases descends into the blue serenity of the sea. 

“Indeed.” His quiet voice doesn’t sound normal for Harry, and you approach slowly, like one might a wounded deer. Wouldn’t want to frighten him away. 

“Harry!” The gasp leaves your throat, and you press your hand to your mouth to capture the sound too late as it has already escaped. “What the hell happened to your knee?”

He shrugs, finally glancing in your direction. “Skinned it. Hi, love. Did you have a good day?”

“I had a beautiful day, but what the fuck did you do to your knee?” Crouching down, you examine the spot where blood is flowing. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but enough that you want to clean it. “My poor baby,” you coo, “Let me clean that for you.”

Rising, you glide to the bathroom again. 

“Bring some ice too, love,” he requests, tacking on a “please” at the last minute. 

Stopping in the suite’s tiny kitchen, you search the small freezer for ice as requested. Ransacking the cabinets in the bathroom, you manage to locate cotton balls, an antiseptic, and a bandage. Returning to Harry, you kneel at his feet. “This might sting a bit.” Cautiously, you cover the cotton ball with the antiseptic and press it to his wound. 

He winces, but the only sound he releases is a mild hiss. 

“Sorry, baby.”

“It’s not a big deal, love.”

As the blood vanishes with its absorption into the cotton ball, you agree with him. The wound is relatively minor. Should form a scab in the next day or so. Carefully, you remove the adhesive from the bandage and press it over the small scratch. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” you tease, “you’ll heal soon enough.”

“Gonna run that one into the ground, aren’t you?” he jokes. 

“Might as well,” your shrug, grinning. “Don’t worry, H. You’re so golden.” His smile gives away his mirth at the pun. “Soon enough, you’ll be done filming, and moving on to something else. And I’ll give you hell about whatever the next thing is too.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he confesses with intense eye contact, and your insides start to flutter. 

As an afterthought, you hold up a bag of frozen peas. “No ice, H. I’m so American that I forgot Europeans don’t do much ice. Will this do?”

“Sure.” Grabbing the bag of peas, he smirks before placing it on his crotch. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Your dick needs ice?”

His eyes rake over you. “Kind of went running without an athletic supporter today.” 

Planting your hands on your hips, you glare at him. “Why would you damage the goods like that?”

Raising his shoulders, he grins, “The fans will love it.”

Your lower lip juts out as you pout at him. “Does that mean it’s off limits to me?”

“It’s sore, love. Not broken.” Harry emphasizes, but that doesn’t make you feel any better. 

“But I’ve got lingerie,” you state clearly. 

He sits up quickly, shifting the bag of frozen peas on his crotch. “You do?”

“Yep.” You allow the ‘P’ to pop. “Ryan introduced me to a new designer. I bought four sets.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. 

“Not with your dick wounded,” you remind him with a tiny hitch in your breathy voice. 

“Fuck,” he repeats. 

“Should I model the first one or wait until tomorrow?” You’re definitely pushing the envelope here, yet how dare he give fans priority to his most precious bits?!

Eyes darkening, he sweeps his gaze over your light trousers and loose shirt. “Ummmm...now please.”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t want you to hurt your dick more.”

The exasperated roll of his eyes makes you smile. “I wanna see, love.” 

Examining him, you come to the conclusion that he’s an adult and knows what he wants. With a nod, you grasp the handle of the bag from the designer. “Be right back!” Hurrying to the bedroom, you set the bag down before rummaging in it for the most sedate look: a white lacy baby doll bit that hits mid-thigh and comes with a long peignoir. Putting on frilly high heeled slipper with it, you strut in front of him with the robe tightly covering your body, watching as his eyes darken. 

“Like this one?”

“Shit, love. It’s…” 

When you part the edges to reveal the concoction underneath, Harry has to catch his breath, shifting in the seat as he adjusts the frozen peas. 

“Hot?” you taunt.

“Mhm. Come here, and check my temperature.” His voice is throaty, and you recognize the signs quite easily. 

“Nope. Three more to go before I get within touching distance, H. Sorry.”

“Dammit,” He mockingly shakes his head. “You know I could easily see all of them on separate nights. Let’s just start with this one.”

Purposely, you push your lip out in a pout. “But then the other lingerie would get jealous, and Ryan went to a lot of effort to get me a private viewing. After all, this stuff isn’t available to the general public.”

“No?” He sighs, and you catch the hitch in his comment. “Bring on the second one then.”

Confidently, you swagger from the room. With shaky hands, you withdraw the bright red lace camisole and boy short. Is this the appropriate one to wear next? The red might just push him over the edge. Best to stay out of his reach then. Smirking, you pull the outfit on and waltz onto the balcony with a twirl, your hair on pointe as its curls bounced with you. 

“Holy fuck. That’s the second one?” His strangled cry makes you laugh in joy. 

“How’s that cock feeling now?” you gesture in the direction of his crotch. 

“The peas have melted I believe.”

“Mhm. Maybe you should go get something else from the freezer then.”

“Nah. I’d rather you come get this bag for me. I might be too injured to walk inside.”

“Oh, you’re so funny. I know this game. I get close to you, and the other two lingerie outfits never see the light of day. Nope. You want more frozen food for your genitals, you can get it yourself.” Laughing, you smack your rounded ass as you amble into the bedroom again. 

“Fuck!” Harry yells behind you. 

The dialogue combined with the strutting has your pussy feeling damp as the waves of arousal rush over you. Sure you’d fucked last night, but today was a new day, and you wanted to feel that dick inside you -- regardless of the damage he did by jogging in the city for the video. 

The third one is pink -- and you’re well aware from experience how much Harry loves pink. The baby doll dress is silk and lands just at the top of your thighs with a black lace bodice that laces in the middle. Kind of laces anyway. Plenty of boob still visible. Or barely hidden. Whichever you prefer.

“Oh my god. You’re killing me!” Harry whines as you parade just out of his reach. When he starts to rise, you shake a finger at him. 

“No, no, H. You need to recuperate from running today. Better stay seated.”

He chokes as you twist around to show him all sides, including the g-string with its bare backside. 

“You’re evil!” he calls as you dance back into the bedroom. 

This is the final one, and you prepare carefully. It takes extra time to put on, and you smile as you observe your image in the room’s mirror. Deftly, you slip a couple of condoms in the bodice of the bralette. 

You find a playlist of romantic Italian music and set it to play on the Bluetooth speaker in the bedroom, ensuring the volume is high enough to be heard on the loggia. 

Harry gasps the moment he sees you. “You’re not wearing anything under that!”

Playfully you glance down at the last lingerie set. “Oh, damn. I guess when I put the garter skirt and stockings on, I must have forgotten the panties. Forgive me?”

His head bobs up and down as he gulps. 

“Now,” you murmur, approaching him. Grasping a pillow from a nearby chair, you plop it on the floor in front of him, settling on your knees there. “I think the best thing is if I take a look at this dick to make sure you didn’t do too much damage.”

Removing the no-longer-frozen peas, you toss the bag to the side. No one will be eating those. Ever. Silently, Harry waits while you carefully peel down the top of his elasticized shorts and remove his cock. You have to catch your breath every time you get to glimpse it, and today is no exception. 

Your mouth waters, and you lick your lips as you hold his rigid length in your hand, your eyes flickering up to his where he’s staring intently at you. Maintaining eye contact, you run your tongue over the tip of his cock, paying extra attention to the slit there. 

“Mmmm,” you murmur. “The tip seems to be okay. Let me check the length.”

Using your saliva as lubrication, you run your hands down his shaft to his balls. “Doesn’t appear to be broken,” you smirk, “In fact, seems pretty solid and firm to me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, “Might want to apply some suction there, love, just in case.”

You don’t really care what he means by that last phrase. You’re more than happy to test out the equipment to ensure that it’s in full working order. Spreading his legs more firmly, you lean in, sliding his entire dick into your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat. Harry grasps the hair at the back of your hand, bunching it in his hand as he guides you along his length. You hear him sigh, and you’re confident he’s tilted his head back and closed his eyes, but when you glance at him, you find that his eyes are still on your lips. 

Fuck. It turns you on even more, and you can feel your pussy dripping onto the pillow. You make a mental note to remove the cover and wash it before leaving the villa. 

As your lips glide along him, you’re frustrated at not having full access to him. As you apply suction to his tip, you pop off him with an audible sound. Both of your hands reach for the waistband of his shorts, and you gently encourage him -- “Lift your bum, H” -- so you can fully remove the garment, throwing it over your shoulder and hoping it doesn’t sail into the pool below. Harry smiles, adjusting his stance into the biggest man spread you’ve ever seen. 

Before you return to your ministrations on his cock, you grasps your chin, drawing your face forward and upwards until he can lock lips with you. 

“Not much longer, love, or I’ll explode.”

“I don’t mind,” you purr. 

“Mhm. But if we’re fully going to test the equipment, then that should include more than a bj.”

“Ah, I see,” you grin. “But of course. We want to be thorough.” 

First, though, you are compelled to play with his balls, so you take him into your mouth again, adding one hand to his length while the fingers on the other play with the balls underneath. Fuck. You could do this all day. Breathing through your nose, you deepthroat him and suck for a solid ten seconds before you release him completely. 

With a grin, you stand, kicking aside the pillow. “Hmmmmm...trying to decide the best way to do this.” Your voice has a catch in it, and you wipe your mouth before bending over and capturing his lips in a searing kiss. Tongue darting forward, you taste him, allowing him to suckle your tongue briefly. 

As you come up for air, Harry moves his legs together while slipping his hand between yours and nudging your legs apart. With one finger he teases your clit, flicking it from side to side as he watches your face and eases another digit inside you. Oh hell. This feels…

“Fuck, H.”

“You’re so tight, baby. Come sit here. Let’s test out the equipment. Make sure everything works properly.”

At his invitation, you step forward as he shifts his bum down on the chair a bit. 

“Shit. I forgot…”

With his words, you remove the first condom from your bralette where it has conveniently been nuzzling your nipple, the hard corner of the foil packet hardening your nip. 

Grasping his dick, he uses the tip to slap at your pussy a few times before using your internal juices to lubricate himself. Your eyes roll back into your head as the two of you work together so you can slide onto him without any additional moments wasted. 

When you’re fully seated on his dick, you grind just for a moment. 

“Hmmmm...seems sturdy enough,” you pant. 

“Oh, you’re so funny,” he drawls, but his eyes roll back in his head when you glide along his length, your stockinged thighs surrounded by his large hands. “Fuck, love.”

“Working on it,” you laugh breathlessly as the rhythm becomes easier. His hands move to your arse as he assists you in riding him. 

Draping your arms over his shoulders, you shake your tits in his face, and he grins as he bends his head to press a kiss at the juncture of your boobs. 

As your climax begins to arrive, your movements become less steady and more sporadic. Harry, knowing you as he does, reaches between your bodies to tease your clit as you throw your head back and cry out two thrusts before his seed spurts into the condom and his eyes roll back into his head. Spent, you collapse on his chest, still joined. 

“I think,” you whisper as you kiss his neck while playing with the curls at the nape of your neck, “we can agree that the equipment still works just fine. No damage here.” Picking up your head, you glare at him. “But no more, H! What’s mine is mine. The fans get enough of you.”

He laughs as his arms surround you, and he buries his head in your shoulder. 

“Of course, love. Whatever you say.”

A/N:  Reblogs are love, my readers.  If you liked this even just a little tiny bit, please take a second to reblog so that others might find it.  Getting likes is nice, but it doesn’t help me grow my readership.  Thanks for your consideration!

[dawninlatin]

Queen of Peace, chapter 13

A manorian high school AU

Words: 2563

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

Oh, the queen of peace

Always does her best to please

But is it any use?

Somebody’s gotta lose

-Florence + The Machine, Queen of Peace

The music roared out of the speakers, and Manon moved her body to the rhythm, letting herself get lost in the upbeat tones. She had done this a dozen times by now, memorized this choreography weeks ago. 

But then she turned to the right, and it wasn’t Asterin dancing beside her - as it had always been - it was Sorrel. 

It startled her enough that she halted and messed up a few steps. Manon caught up with the others, but she was unable to pour her heart into it like she usually did. Her mind was too busy thinking about Asterin, worrying whether she was okay or not after their grandmother had kicked her out.

Manon had seen her at school a few times in the following weeks, but they hadn’t talked, and she doubted they would. Asterin probably hated her now, after all the horrible things Manon had said to her. 

Getting kicked out is the least you deserve after getting yourself knocked up by a boy who will leave at the first sign of some real responsibility. Don’t come crawling to me when you find yourself homeless and heartbroken. You’re off the dance team, by the way.

Manon hadn’t meant what she said, not really, but maybe this was for the better…

Her grandmother had made it very clear that she was not to talk with Asterin anymore, and Asterin avoiding her, hating her, made everything much easier.

Yet, if it made things easier, why did it also make her so sad? The house had been awfully quiet these weeks, so quiet it was near-stifling. Manon hadn’t realized how different, how empty, home would be without Asterin there.

Stop moping around you sad, pathetic fool!

Manon mentally scolded herself, forcing her attention back to the dancing. She couldn’t keep letting this distract her. Asterin was simply an obstacle who no longer stood in the way of her future.

Finishing the rest of the choreography, she ignored the desperate, disappointed voice inside her head that whispered; you’re beginning to sound like her.

When the music faded into nothing and her body stopped moving, Manon put on her usual mask of cold, calculating boredom and turned towards her team. She immediately knew something was up, as they were all looking at her as if they had something to say, but didn’t dare say it.

«What,» Manon said, more an order than a question. If they had all decided to gang up against her, she only wanted to get it over with. 

The girls exchanged wary glances, before Sorrel took a step forward and said, «We need Asterin on this choreo.» Manon was surprised when Vesta, who leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, stayed silent for once.

With a sigh, Manon answered Sorrel, «And why the hell do we need Asterin?» 

Yet again did they all look at each other, as if this was something they’d discussed behind her back. The icy feeling of betrayal snaked its way up Manon’s spine.

«Because it’s always been the thirteen of us. We’re off-balance without Asterin.» It was Ghislaine who spoke this time.

«You’ve said it yourself,» Briar shot in from the back of the room. «If just one of us is missing, the entire team falls apart!»

It was when Vesta finally opened her mouth that she snapped. «And you slipped up today, Manon. Several times!» 

«I have no idea what you’re talking about,» Manon hissed, clenching her fists so hard it hurt. «You have been distracted today, hell, you’ve been distracted, lazy and off-beat all week!»

«Because Asterin-» Vesta begun, but Manon didn’t let her finish.

«I don’t wanna hear another word about Asterin! It was her own stupidity that got her kicked off the team, and if you, all of you, don’t start working a bit harder, I won’t hesitate to replace you with someone else!»

The room was unbearably quiet when she was done talking, and Manon could hear her own heart thundering inside her chest. She had to stay calm, couldn’t let them see her fall apart, even if that was what she felt like doing right now. She was losing control, she was-

«I can talk to Asterin today if-»

«GET OUT!» 

Manon’s blood was boiling at the audacity of Vesta. Why couldn’t they understand that Asterin, with her carelessness, was jeopardizing everything they had worked towards? 

Her grandmother had been clear in her orders: everything had to be perfect, so they had to win nationals, which they couldn’t do when one of the teammates first of all didn’t bother showing up to half of the rehearsals, and second of all, would be heavily pregnant come spring.

When everyone had left, and Manon was alone once more, she didn’t let herself brood over the fight they’d just had, didn’t let herself recognize how awful this made her feel. She simply turned the music back on, and forgot.

She forgot everything she’d promised her grandmother, forgot the math test she’d butchered earlier today, forgot the fact that her whole dance team had probably just quit, forgot that she had no control over anything in her life anymore.

Yet as she kept moving her exhausted body, one thought remained. One of piercing blue eyes and soft lips.

And when she remembered that she had an actual date with him the next day, Manon smiled, despite everything.

-

«Why are you looking at me like that?»

How am I supposed to not look at you? Dorian wondered. Manon was radiant where she sat with her body leaned back, eyes closed, face tipped towards the sky. She was smiling softly, the autumn sun making her white-blonde hair glow.

Instead of telling her that, Dorian went with: «I’m just wondering what you’re thinking. You went quiet all of a sudden.»

She had. They’d been sitting here for hours now, under the huge oak tree in the park, eating and laughing and talking, but now she was silent, a calm, contemplating aura around her. 

Manon hummed in answer, before opening her eyes and twisting towards him. «I’m just…savoring the moment, I guess.» Her mouth quirked to the side, the movement making her nose scrunch, and Dorian had to let out a chuckle.

«Now who’s the cliché?» 

She’d been playfully mocking him for his picnic this whole time, even asking him if he was aware that they weren’t in every high school movie ever made. Dorian had begged to differ, telling her that the only reason it was a cliché, was because it worked.

And it did. After a while, Manon had reluctantly agreed that yes, maybe it was a little romantic. The admission had been accompanied by an eye-roll, of course, but what else could you expect?

«What time is it?» Manon asked after a moment. 

Dorian scrambled for his phone, finding it half-lodged under the picnic basket. «It’s almost 3pm,» he said, marveling over how much time had passed. He could spend all day like this, just talking about all and nothing with Manon. No matter what they discussed, she surprised him with her answers, whether it be a funny joke or an unusually deep thought, offering a new perspective on things. 

«I should head home soon,» she sighed, but Manon made no sign of getting up. Instead she laid down, Dorian joining her. «My grandmother will start to ask questions if I’m late.»

From what he’d gathered, Manon’s grandmother was very strict, especially when it came to boys, and Manon had told her she was studying at the library today. She rarely talked about her family, and whenever they touched on the subject, she quickly started talking about something else. Dorian knew not to ask questions, though. She would open up when and if she was ready, and those moments often came at the most unexpected times. 

«I had a lot of fun today, you know. Even if I still think you just googled date ideas and went with the first hit.» Dorian laughed at that, his stomach filling with what could only be described as butterflies. 

«Does that mean you would want to do it again?» They were lying on their backs, face to face, and all Dorian could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss her.

It had been weeks since their kiss in the library, but they hadn’t been able to do it again. All they’d gotten was stolen moments in between classes and late-night texts, their busy schedules making sure of that. Until now, that was.

«I would love to,» Manon offered, answering his question. «But next time I decide what we’re doing.»

«Deal,» Dorian grinned, his eyes staying fixed on her lips as she spoke.

Moments passed, the tension between them tangible, and then Manon whispered, «Is it weird that I really wanna kiss you right now?»

That was all it took for Dorian to crash his lips into hers. 

The kiss was exploring at first, her lips so soft and so perfect. He’d thought about their moment in the library constantly in the past weeks, but his memory could never do it justice, he knew now. This was the real thing, the real Manon, and she was bewitching. No other word could describe the experience that was kissing her.

Dorian pulled her closer, and Manon placed her hands in his hair. He had to continuously remind himself that they were outside, in the middle of a park, and anyone could walk by at any moment.

Yet he couldn’t stop either. Their mouths had gone from searching to ravenous, both of them trying to get closer to the other. Manon nudged him with her tongue, and he opened up for her, the taste of her exquisite.

His blood heated, skin becoming incredibly tight all of a sudden. He could keep doing this forever.

But they had to pull apart at some point to simply just breathe. And they did.

Manon let her forehead rest against his as they both panted slightly, Dorian reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of her face. «I really should go now,» she murmured against his lips, leaning in to kiss him once more. 

It was Dorian who pulled away this time, stroking her cheek. «I’ll see you later then.»

«Yeah,» she sighed, standing up in one smooth movement. The air around Dorian suddenly became unbearably cold. 

After Manon had picked up her jacket, ready to leave, she halted for a moment, and said, «I meant it when I said today was fun.» 

Then she leaned down to place a swift kiss on his cheek, stood back up and walked away, leaving him alone, all flustered. 

Dorian had to wait a moment before he could get up himself, because his pants had just become very tight. His face was burning at the fact, but he forced himself to think of dead puppies and his parents fighting and his gym teacher in those tiny shorts he insisted on wearing.

That last image was particularly horrifying, but it seemed to do the trick. Then, Dorian picked up his phone, only to find fifty new messages from Aelin in their group chat.

Sighing, he began to skim through the thread.

Aelin: Do you guys have plans for today?

Aelin: Rowan is busy

Aelin: And I’m bored

Aelin: Hellooooo

Chaol: I’m guessing I have plans now…

Aelin: I can actually hear how hard you’re sighing right now Chaol

Aelin: We’re seeing a movie today

Chaol: When?

Then there was a lot of planning back and forth, and both Chaol and Aelin trying to reach Dorian. The last message he got was a selfie of his best friends glaring at him, the text reading: Come hang out with us loser.

So Dorian stood, feeling lighter than ever, and began calling Aelin to hear where they were.

-

Stepping into the narrow hallway of her home, Manon carefully closed the door behind her, trying to stay as quiet as possible in case her grandmother was working. 

She hung her coat on the rack and turned her phone on silent. She rarely got any notifications, but that was before Dorian. Now they sent messages back and forth at all hours, most of it silly nonsense.

«Manon, is that you?» her grandmother called from the kitchen. Letting out a shaky breath, Manon made her facial expression that of someone who had studied in a library for hours and definitely hadn’t just made out with a hot boy.

Listen to yourself, you sound like some lovesick girl from those movies you hate so much, Manon mentally yelled, rolling her eyes at how annoying her internal monologue was becoming.

«Yeah, I’m back.» She stopped by the doorway to the kitchen on the way to her room, where her grandmother was sitting by the table, laptop open in front of her.

The woman glanced up at the clock on the wall, before looking back at Manon, her eyes searching. «You stayed at the library for a long time.»

Manon had to fight to stay fully still, to not flinch at her grandmothers words. She couldn’t know, could she? Putting on a fake smile, Manon said, «I just got into a really good workflow, didn’t wanna quit.»

Her breaths were getting faster, and she could feel the panic sneaking up on her.

Just keep it together until you’re alone! She always asks questions like these.

«I’m almost done with the history assignment,» she added to make sure her grandmother bought it. Even if it was all a lie. She hadn’t even started on the history paper.

«Good. I already made dinner, but there are some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.» Her grandmother’s tone was pleasant, almost happy. She had to be in a good mood today, then. The whole thing felt deeply unsettling.

At least she was safe, for now.

«Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I’ll be in my room,» Manon said before turning and hurrying down the hall. Once she’d closed the door, she finally let out the breath of relief she’d benne holding, throwing away all pretense.

She couldn’t keep lying to her grandmother like this…

Not only did it make her feel awful, but the consequences would also be too great. She was putting her whole future at risk when she was acting like this, sneaking around and prioritizing boys over her schoolwork. 

Frustrated, she threw herself down on her bed, startling Abraxos who was sleeping on her pillow. Dorian made everything so much more complicated. Agreeing to go out with him had been a mistake. A huge, huge mistake.

Yet she’d felt better today, happier, than she’d had in a long time. She’d even managed to forget the catastrophe that was her dance team, if only for a few hours. And with this light, fluttery feeling, everything seemed more manageable. 

For now, she could do this, wanted to do this. The thought of not being with Dorian anymore… It didn’t feel right, and she was actually looking forward to Monday, when she would see him again.

She knew this, they, would have to end one way or another, but she couldn’t let go just yet.

A/N: That break really got longer than I anticipated...

It's been nearly a year now, since I first got the idea for this fic and started writing it, and here I was, believing I could be done with it by summer 2020. In all honesty, it feels like I posted chapter 12, blinked, and then 4 months had passed. But here it is, at least:) We have reached the halfway point, and a little progress is better than none. I'm still not making any promises regarding this fic, other than I will finish it, someday, whether that be in 2 months or 2 years. And to all of you who still read, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU SO MUCH<3<3 I could not have done it without you!

All the love, Aurora<3

Taglist: @fireheartdreamerstarborn @bookishwitchling @hellasblessed @kit-12 @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be on any of them!

[juniaships]

OCs I have who are pink

Jora because she's a nature-themed character but ALSO in some cultures pink symbolizes honoring the dead and because goes with the Chromatic Arrangement (Ben/Green Rook&Gwen&Kevin/Blue)

Freddi: magenta because that's a color often associated with the supernatural and it compliments danny's green ectoplasm

I have a Hero Factory OC still in development who is the medical officer/combat medic and pink represents health/calmness

Vesta/Accelia: We don't have many pink superheroes in western media

Odette was designed as a Pink Ninja because originally she was going to have the power of Love but now she has no powers, her sister also wears pink

Lady Vella: okay she was meant for lotr but i repurposed her for bionicle; she wears pink to associate with lightning - i know lightning is canonically blue&white but I'm tired of the female gender being restricted to just Water plus I get Will Vandom vibes

Kyra: PINK RANGER it fits her cousin Cole's red lion theme

An entire racing team who has pink as a theme color (yellow is a secondary color) to represent their neutrality in the Teku/Metal Maniacs conflict

Ross's mission suit is pink cuz it complements Lioness

Arthur is the only male OC with Pink

Niya's theme color is red but her magic is a reddish-pink to symbolize her affinity for gemstones & to contrast Gwen's blue/purple

Alma is literally a pink tow truck

I'm pretty sure I have some more OCs

[rufousnmacska]

This started as a little head canon list but, not surprisingly, turned into more. Disclaimer - I have not read Harry Potter or seen the movies in years. So, I’m sure I got some things wrong about the world. Please forgive me!

@kit-12 I hope you like it! 😊

(Trigger warning - physical abuse)

*****

- Manon first notices him one day at lunch. His laugh echoes across the great hall and pulls her attention from the book she’s reading. It’s about magical creatures, her favorite subject. Not one usually considered suitable for Slytherins, so she has it hidden inside a larger volume on curses. As she watches him sit down with his friends who are on the Gryffindor quidditch team, she realizes she’s seen him at practices. Slytherin practices. She realizes she’s seen him in the library quite often too. She realizes ... he is now staring at her. Manon sneers at him but he just continues to smile at her. Slamming her book shut, she leaves the hall. Knowing he watches her every step. The heat flushing her skin is from annoyance she tells herself. Nothing more.

- Dorian never cared for quidditch but he is a regular in the stands. That first match he attended between Gryffindor and Slytherin in his second year, that first glimpse of the all female Slytherin team - his house called them Witches, with a capital W, implying something more, something darker, than a normal witch - he was hooked. Something about their captain caught his attention and never let go. Even as the years passed and he had crushes on other people, acted on them, earned a bit of a reputation. They’d never shared a class, and their houses hated each other. But always, he felt her presence, watched her from afar, seeking out that silvery white hair she wore in a long braid. Finally - finally! - she looks at him across the long tables. As if she never knew he existed before. As she stares, he can’t help but grin. Seeing her full on, her eyes glowing like torches, her full red lips and long eyelashes ... He’s unable, unwilling to look away. Even when she tries to give him a nasty expression. He sees her red cheeks as she leaves the great hall.

- Manon pushes the boy out of her mind. Pushes everything out of her mind except quidditch practice. Slytherin calls them The Coven because they are almost never apart. They share a dorm room, have been on the team since their second year - they’ve been the team - take all the same classes. But as much as she loves flying and playing this game, there’s always a bubble of anxiety building in her before each practice or match. Always on the edge of bursting. As they soar around the stadium, following the patterns and directions they’d been given to a T, she can’t help but glance at their Head of House, watching through cold, narrowed eyes from the top row of the teacher’s box. The Matron’s focus is not on them however, but a small group of students on the other side of the stadium. Manon looks, knowing who one of them will be. Just as she spots his curly, dark hair, a beater strikes her in the thigh, almost knocking her from her broom. If not for Asterin nudging her up, she would have fallen. Those cold black eyes are now on her. And Manon knows what’s coming.

- Dorian used the cover of a dedicated group of students who followed quidditch as if their lives depended on it to view practices. The Slytherin team’s aerobatics are hypnotic, and even though he still can’t always see the moves and predict their plays, he loves watching them fly. But he hates the violence of it. Especially now, watching Manon limp off the field. As the other fans disperse, he breaks away and makes his way to the locker rooms. The Witches are silently stalking through the hall and he ducks behind a corner. Manon is not with them. He doesn’t miss the worried faces though. Once they pass, he proceeds, poking his head around the open door into the Slytherin locker room. The slap surprises him, but it doesn’t seem to shock Manon. She takes it as if it’s nothing new. As if the blood now dripping from her nose is common enough that she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away. Another slap and droplets of blood fly. Another and another. All while the Matron screams in her face. Dorian can’t turn away even if he wanted to. He wants to tackle the Matron and return the blows. But he can’t do that either. Manon’s eyes slide past the Matron and find him, watching. Her only acknowledgement of his presence is a slight widening of her eyes. A warning. Go. But he holds her gaze, trying to reel in his anger and magic, hoping to show her she’s not alone.

- Manon breathes a sigh of relief when the boy - Dorian, she found out his name yesterday - disappears before the Matron turns to leave. She is alone. Not allowed to use magic to heal herself, not allowed to go to the infirmary. Her nose feels broken and it throbs as she sits down on the bench a little too heavily. She thinks about trying to find some ice at least, but she doesn’t move. Even when she hears soft footsteps, she is still. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking a seat next to her. She says nothing. Dorian pulls out his wand and is about to wave it when she says, “No. If she sees it healed, it will be worse.” He clenches his jaw so hard she thinks she can hear his teeth grinding. Finally, she looks over at him. His brows crease as he looks at her face. His brilliant blue eyes belie a secret connection. Like he knows exactly what she’s feeling. “Can I at least...” He swishes his wand and she feels a cold breeze. She sees an ice drop form at the tip and understands, nodding for him to go ahead. He mumbles a spell and icy comfort spreads across her face. Manon sighs deeply, savoring the relief. Dorian is watching her, as if connecting dots. Quidditch is a dangerous sport. But she often has injuries that go untreated. Most from practices, which should be less violent than an actual match. He is about to say something when she stands, slowly, and says, “Thank you.” She leaves him sitting in the Slytherin locker room and trudges back to the castle.

- Dorian only catches glimpses of Manon over the next few days, in hallways or on stairs just as they invariably move away from him. She’s never close enough for him to see if her nose has healed. He hasn’t told anyone what he saw. But he notices the looks he gets from the Witches. Surprisingly, they don’t look like they want to bite his head off. Which they could maybe do, literally. They’re all experts at transfiguration and give themselves pointed teeth before matches. To him, they offer grateful, if hesitant, smiles. More like a slightly upturned side of their mouth. But he’s nodded back. Tonight, in the library, he is carrying a large stack of books to the check out desk when he passes an aisle and sees white hair gleaming in the torchlight. She’s tucked away in a cubbyhole, her head buried in a book. Dorian approaches, making noise so she isn’t surprised by him. When she looks up, some faint bruising remains on her face, but no sign of a still healing break. Reading his face, she says, “It wasn’t broken.” Then, eyeing up the books, she asks, “Light reading?” Dorian laughs. “Actually, yes.” Manon examines him, not the books, and asks, “Why aren’t you in Ravenclaw?” He stretches to see what she’s reading. A very old volume on dragons. The pages look brittle and he sees she’s wearing gloves. Something about that makes his heart warm. “I don’t know. Perhaps the sorting hat saw something more in me.” She wrinkles her nose. “Gryffindors. Always thinking they are the best.” Leaning against the edge of her desk, he says, “I’d be the best in whatever house I got sorted into.” This makes her laugh, as he’d hoped. “So you’re into dragons? My father knows people that work with them.” He doesn’t know why he brings up his father. But his eyes keep falling on the bruises and he tries to ignore them. If he can give her a happy distraction, he will. “I like flying,” she replies with a shrug. Confused, he asks, “What does that have to do with it? You want to fly on dragons? Why not hippogriffs or something ... I don’t know, smaller? Something people can actually ride.” She gives him a wicked grin that kindles the fire inside him. “Maybe I like dangerous things,” she says, clearly aware of the effect her smile has on him. Dorian grins right back, leans down close, only a few inches from her, and says, “Maybe I do too.” And then, the stack of books in his arms begins to slide and he fumbles around trying to keep them from falling. Several hit the floor and Manon begins to laugh, a clear, sonorous laugh that sends that heat rushing through him again. But she gets up and helps him gather them together. As they both crouch, picking up books, they are again very close. She stills and without looking at him says, “I’m sorry you had to see that the other day.” Dorian frowns, wanting to argue that she has nothing to apologize for. But he just asks, “Are you okay?” She looks at him as though no one outside of her circle of friends has ever asked that. And then she smiles softly and says, “Yes.” He knows part of it is a lie. But only part.

- Manon tries to avoid him in the halls but it seems like he’s always there, always just walking around a corner. Always in her line of sight. As if he’d appeared out of thin air a few weeks ago to be her shadow. Stupidly, she realizes maybe she’s the one watching for him. It takes overhearing Vesta whispering about him to Asterin to make her understand. She snaps at them to mind their own damn business and storms off to the quidditch pitch. The stadium will be empty this close to dinner and she can sulk in peace. As she whips through the air, feeling badly about yelling at her closest friends, feeling badly about ignoring Dorian, she wishes the wind would take her troubles away. Begs it to somehow put her in another house. Away from the abuse of the Matron. Away from the constant needling of the other Slytherins to bully and harass other students. Away from the constant eyes judging her if she steps out of line. She remembers Dorian’s words about the sorting hat and how it must have seen something in him to place him in Gryffindor. What had it seen in her to put her in the darkest house in the school? Did she have nothing more to her than cunning and ambition? Surely she possessed bravery, and intelligence, and loyalty. Didn’t she? Something catches her eye and she sees him climbing into the stands. Expecting to feel annoyance, she finds herself smiling as she flies over to meet him. Hovering at eye level, she says, “Don’t you eat?” He grins and pulls a basket from his cloak. “Only if you will join me.” She can smell the steaming chicken and fresh bread. The chocolate brownies. Her stomach growls in answer and he begins to unpack the food as she lands next to him. They remain quiet, eating in silence until she can’t hold it in any longer. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Dorian looks adorably confused. “Because I like you?” Manon blushes. She can’t help it. His expression turns serious then. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for a very long time, but ... I didn’t want it to cause you any problems.” He doesn’t need to say what those problems are. She stares at him for a long moment, not sure of what to say. Until finally, she says, “I like you too.” And before she can talk herself out of it, because she wants to know if his lips are as soft as they look, because his smile sets her blood on fire, she kisses him.

- Dorian uses every excuse possible to ditch his friends each weekend they go to Hogsmeade. They suspect he has a new girlfriend but he’s managed to keep her a secret. Using an enchanted map he found in a book shelved in special collections, he sneaks back to the castle while they continue with their afternoon, thinking he’s merely a step or two ahead of them. Dorian hates that they have to keep it a secret, but he’d agreed with Manon when she’d requested it. He dreads seeing new bruises and that outweighed any annoyance he felt. As he sprints into the Room of Requirement, their meeting spot, he can’t wait to see her. Dorian stops dead in his tracks as he sees those bruises he’d feared. Manon tries to hide her face, but to no avail. “Hey,” Dorian says as he kneels down and gently pulls her hands away. Her gorgeous eyes are almost overflowing with tears. “Manon, what can I do?” She sniffs, “Nothing, I’m fine.” Her painfully swollen cheek says otherwise. Before he can think, his magic reacts, sending cold relief to her injuries. He lets her think it was deliberate, controlled. He says nothing about how her pain unleashes his magic, that it’s a manifestation of his hate and anger for the Matron. The potions professor who laughs at first years when they suffer burns or injuries in her class. The quidditch coach who beats her team captain at the slightest infraction. Too much, she reminds him of his father. The Minister of Magic who never fails to tell his son what an embarrassment he is. A man of power who hits with words almost as brutally as the Matron hits with fists. Pulling her close, he hugs her, until the shaking stops. “I hate this,” she chokes out between sobs. “I hate being punished for losing. I hate being watched. As if a Slytherin can only be one thing. I hate hiding here with you.” Dorian strokes her back. “I know.” He does know. The shame, the self hatred, the fear. Manon releases a long, slow breath, settling against him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

- Manon is rushing to her next class and almost misses the gossip exchanged between the two younger students. When it sinks in, she stops, almost running into a wall. “The matron got fired!” “What? Are you kidding? Don’t joke with me. I hate her.” “Everyone does. Or did. She can go rot now.” “What happened?” But the two disappear around a corner, leaving Manon shell shocked. Forgetting her class, she runs back to the Slytherin common room, ignoring everyone she passes in the tunnel. She finds Asterin in their room. Her best friend is grinning from ear to ear, a slightly dazed look on her face. “What the hell happened?” Manon asks. “A miracle!” Asterin calls, laughter overtaking her to the point she can barely speak. “A godsdamn miracle!” The Coven quickly join them, coming in one by one as they hear the news. Celebration is replaced by strategy as the teammates begin to discuss changes to their quidditch routines. They are a well oiled machine, so nothing much will be different. But at least they can use their own ideas for plays and techniques. Their door opens to reveal the Headmistress. Glennis Crochan eyes the young witches with a mildly disapproving look. The twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed however. She shoos everyone out except Manon. “I take it you’ve heard the news,” the Headmistress says. Manon forces a sober expression on her face. “Yes ma’am.” Professor Crochan sits on the edge of her bed and frowns. “I must apologize for not seeing the truth sooner, Ms. Blackbeak.” Manon feigns ignorance, but not for long. This wise, old witch is no one’s fool, despite mistaking the Matron’s evil tendencies for mere strictness. “She was an exceptional liar. I am so very sorry I believed anything she said,” the headmistress says. “I know,” Manon replies, not sure what else to say. Professor Crochan reaches out and squeezes Manon’s hand. It’s such a motherly gesture that Manon, who has no mother of her own, feels uncomfortable. Like she doesn’t know if she should squeeze back or continue to just sit there. Before she can decide, the headmistress smiles and stands. She offers her ear if Manon ever wants to talk. About anything. And then. before the crone leaves, she says, “By the way, I’ve demoted the Head Boy that the Matron assigned to Slytherin. He has learned too much at her feet. You will take his place. It’s time for some new blood to lead Slytherin.” Manon stands, her mouth agape, her heart racing. “You may say thank you if you’d like,” the headmistress says with a kind smile. “Uhh ... thank you. Ma’am. Headmistress,” Manon sputters, unsure if she is actually grateful. But when she’s left alone, when she thinks about all the things she’d change about Slytherin, she is overcome with hope and excitement. She runs out to find Dorian.

- Dorian is so far behind on his charms homework, not even Yrene’s help will get him through it. Despairing in a hidden corner of the library, he stares blankly at his textbook, not seeing or understanding a single work on the page. His mind is focused on one thing. Or, one person.  At the sound of heavy footfalls, he leans into the aisle to see Manon charging towards him. He’s hesitant, unable to tell if she’s happy or angry. It could go either way. A person might be glad that their abuser was just fired, or they might be upset that someone meddled at all. Just as she reaches him, he stands and holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “I sent an owl to the Education Minister. She is friends with my mother and I thought maybe it would help.” He cringes a little, waiting for her reaction. Manon says nothing, just throws herself against him in a hug that almost sends him toppling backwards. “You’re not upset with me?” he asks, laughing. “Never,” she says. “You used your connections to save me. To save all of us. She was terrible to more people than just me.” They return to their embrace, and he realizes there are others gathering around, watching them. He starts to pull away but she doesn’t let him. “I don’t care anymore,” she says, her breath hot and alive against his skin. “Let them watch. I’ll throw them in detention if they give us any trouble.” Dorian pulls back, an eyebrow raised. “I’m Head Girl of Slytherin now.” She says it just loud enough for the gawkers to hear and immediately disperse. He laughs and promises not to step out of line around her. She makes him take it back. Later, as they separate to head to their respective common rooms, Manon frowns. “I wish I could do this for you. Get your dad off your back somehow.” That she would offer means the world to him, giving him some much needed strength. “Maybe when you become famous you can tell him off for me.” Her nose wrinkles slightly. “And what will I do to become famous?” He kisses the wrinkles. “Replace brooms with dragons in quidditch.” Manon’s eyes lit up, widening first in disbelief and then as she is flooded with ideas. “First, let’s survive Hogwarts,” he says. “We still have to meet each other’s friends. Officially, I mean.” Her brightness fades a little, but she is still smiling as she heads down the stairs to Slytherin, and he climbs up to Gryffindor.

*****

tagging - @itach-i @nestasbucket @blackhavilliard​ @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies​ @sierrareads​ @chloe123love607​ @manontrashbeak​ @over300books​ @bookishwitchling​ @jimetg98​ @mis-lil-red​ @yourfacesickens-me​ @awesomelena555​

fanfic master list (includes the link to my fics on AO3)  

Thanks for reading! I’m slowly working my way through a bunch of manorian requests and other ideas of my own, so if you’d like to be tagged or if I forgot you, let me know. 🙂

[ninatheauthor]

"I don't really like being called 'Angel' or 'Goddess'... I'm just a human being."

Basima Lee was an Officer under the command of Hange Zoë within the Survey Corps. Her paternal ancestors originated from the Kingdom of Seungil, also known as the Seungil Dynasty. They visited Paradis Island along with the shogun of Hizuru.

Table of Contents - part 1 ▸ Personal Information ▸ Biological Information ▸ Personality ▸ Likes, Dislikes, Favorites & Aspirations ▸ Professional Information ▸ Statistics & Abilities

Personal Information

Full name: Basima Mi-young Lee First name - "smiling" Middle name - "beautiful and outstanding" Last name - derived from the character Li, it means "plum tree" Nicknames: Freckle-faced Angel / そばかす顔の天使, Sobakasu-gao no tenshi - her admirers Northern Goddess / 北の女神, Kita no megami - idem Sisi - her friends Fatty - her former instructor Katakana: バシマ・リー Romaji: Bashima Rī Hangul: 이미영

Origins: • Unknown Former Eldian Colonies • Territory of Cesur Formerly known as the Cesur Empire, its territory was conquered by the Eldian Empire and reclaimed by Marley. Their religion is called Ceslam. • Seungli A small kingdom located in the East Sea region. The nation of Hizuru attempted to annex the territory ; they failed several times.  After Seungli signed a treaty of peace with the Eldian Empire, the Crown Prince along with the Right State Consulate visited and stayed on Paradis Island. 

Languages: Eldian (fluent), Seungian (fluent), Ceslian (intermediate) Sexuality: N/A

Birthdate: November 23rd, 822 Birthplace: Elgin Village, Wall Rose, Paradis Island Former residence: Survey Corps HQ Status: Deceased Death date: 850 Death location: Stohess District, Wall Sina Site of burial: Elgin Village, Wall Rose

Biological Information

Species: Human Gender: Female Age: 23 (845) 27 (850) Height: 165 cm / 5 ft. 4 in. Weight: 62 kg / 137 lb.

Physical appearance Long, medium, slightly wavy dark auburn hair. On-duty, she braided her hair around in a crown style or tied it up in a double braid ponytail.

An oval face shape with straight eyebrows, upturned dark blue eyes, a small snub nose shape, full lips and freckles spread across her nose and cheeks. She spoke with a deep, classy feminine voice. (*)

Light skin with cool, pink undertones. Basima disliked her winter complexion - once she started blushing, her cheeks and neck turned red. The adult adored her summer complexion: a warm, golden brown skin tone.  

According to her admirers, nobody else in the Scouting Legion had feminine curves like her. Due to her figure, Basima received harsh criticism for "being too fat" and "not fit enough for a soldier". Round shoulders with pudgy arms and thin fingers. Her wide-set breasts were bigger - not too large - compared to other soldiers. Clothes hid well the veteran's long, deep scar across her back, the little scars on her upper arms and her stomach rolls. However, she couldn't pretend that she didn't have large hips, a round bottom and thick thighs with long legs.

Clothing style The woman wore the Survey Corps uniform with a light pink button-up shirt. She got used to the sensation of the harness pressing down her chest, stomach, hips and legs. Off-duty, Basima wore shirts with cardigans, knee-length skirts and boots. 

Personality

Childhood "Good girl" - she obeyed to her parents and sister, always greeted the other villagers with a smile on her face. Instead of mocking the child, her parents and sibling encouraged the youngest to love her body. Basima often questioned her parents. Sometimes, their answers didn't satisfy her.

Early to mid 10s Confident prior to her enlistment in the Training Corps. Her comrades pitied her out: their Head Instructor demeaned Basima since day one. In her eyes, the villager was too soft-hearted, naïve and piggish. Despite these weaknesses, the trainee had good social kills - she got along with everyone and befriended few individuals. Unless Cadet Lee toughened herself and slimmed down, she wouldn't last long. Unbeknownst to Vesta Hajovsky, her favorite target exceeded her expectations ; Basima improved steadily the two following years.

Some Scouts started to idolize her: the "Freckled-face Angel" and "Northern Goddess" respected everyone, was kind-hearted, selfless and graceful. At the beginning, the teen went along with it. Basima greatly appreciated compliments about her, especially those concerning her weight.  

Late 10s One day, the Scout rejected these nicknames. Being put on a pedestal stressed Basima out. The soldier dodged Titans unless someone in the higher-ranks ordered her to kill them. She preferred to follow the rules like a good soldier than lead a group of individuals. She lied to hide her dad's ethnic origins. Unfortunately for her, some individuals wanted to know the truth. Basima was overtly defensive - she perceived their questions as an attack. If her interlocutor persisted, the woman would talk to them them with a hostile tone. She needed to protect her family.

Early 20s The passing of Liliane Berger took its toll on Basima's health. She barely ate, slept for few days and was hospitalised for a short period. The fear of Titans overwhelmed her. She lacked self-esteem, belittled herself. The officer healed slowly through the months. Once Basima acknowledged her fear, she exposed herself to it and engaged with it. The more they accumulated data about this species, the better.

Mid to late 20s

"The reason of my life is not to be the most beautiful woman in the world." - Isabella Rossellini

At first glance, Basima was a easy-going, sympathetic and affectionate individual. She greeted everyone, asked her comrades how they feel today. She made tea or coffee for her teammates and superiors. She hugged Hange when they confessed about their fears.

Basima grew tired of jokes made at her superior's expense. Mildly annoyed, the woman responded sardonically. The "nutcase" and "weirdo" who was in charge of a squadron and the Titan Research Team has a lot of qualities. Like her teammates, she showed loyalty to her superior and other high-ranked officers of the Survey Corps. The soldier confronted fervently those who downgraded Hange's intellect and leadership skills. She regained her composure  after the Captain or one of her superiors told her to hush, apologizing for losing her temper.

Basima was on active duty for 12 years. She had been under two different Commanders, survived dozens of expeditions prior the fall of Wall Maria. Reliable and adaptable, the veteran was an elite soldier among the Scouting Legion. She displayed a lack of empathy towards soldiers from the Military Police Brigade and aristocrats as she often made snarky comments about them. This lady could be somewhat calculating, acting like a helpless or luscious woman to achieve her ends.

Likes, Dislikes, Favorites & Aspirations

ღ Summer season ღ Observing the sun rises and sun falls ღ Listening to the birds ღ Ice cream ღ Knitting

✘ Winter season ✘ People who don't respect her boundaries ✘ People who worship her like a God ✘ Military Police ✘ Nobles

Favorites Food(s): Vegetable soup, fish soup and vanilla ice cream Color(s): Light pink Season(s): Summer Type of the day: Morning Animal(s): Cats and horses Activities: Knitting, braiding her hair, going out and shopping in town with her friends when off-duty

Aspirations Life-long dream: visit the land of her ancestors Goal(s): sell knitted clothes and accessories in her own shop

Professional Information

Occupation: Soldier Time in service: 12 years (excluding trainee years)

Affiliation 92nd Training Corps - Northern Division (835-838) • Grad. Rank: 5th • Grade: B-

Survey Corps (838-850) Mathias Aukes' Squad Nathalie Cooper's Squad Hange Zoë's Fourth Squad • Rank: Officer (上官, Jokan)

Titan Kills Solo: At least 5 In team: At least 15 Total: 25

Statistics & Abilities

3DMG: 8.5/10 Agility: 7.5/10 Combat: 7/10 Initiative: 7/10 Intelligence: 8/10 Stamina: 6/10 Strength: 6/10 Teamwork: 8/10 Willpower: 7/10 Knitting: 10/10

➜ Vertical maneuvering equipment

Basima has always been fascinated by it. If others could fly, so did she. The woman strengthened her lower body and learned everything about the equipment - apparatus, mechanics, etc. Furthermore, she mastered different techniques through the years. 

➜ Agility

The most flexible part of Basima's body was her lower body. Constant training and muscular reinforcement helped her to manipulate the 3DMG with ease. 

➜ Intelligence

Members of the Titan Research Team displayed various analytical skills such as critical thinking, research, information analysis, communication and problem-solving. In addition, Basima could schemed to get away from troublesome problems.

➜ Teamwork

During her trainee years, teamwork was her fortée. She understood the importance of having a group with members whom rely on each other. Basima took the time to improve this skill in the Scouting Legion. 

➜ Knitting

She learned from her mom. When Basima had time, she could make practical clothes. Her close friends and comrades received scarves, gloves, socks and pull-over for their birthdays.

(*) Her seiyuu/voice actress would be Eiko Masuyama and Michelle Ruff.

Some elements were extracted from a OC Sheet created by AliceCantBeStopped Statistics chart created by SNK-OC-Guide Shingeki No Kyojin © Hajime Isayama Basima Lee © Nina The Author

[luseals]

Happy Valentine's Day! Sending you all glitter and candy hearts via my silliest clown OC <3

[ryanmaleck]

* vestahqs TASK #001 _  get to know the muse *

psst! you can find her full biography by clicking on this sentence!

GENERAL STATS

BASIC INFO

Name: Karyanne Indira Vidia Maleck

Pronunciation: Kah-ree-ah-nn In-dee-rah Vee-dee-ah Mah-l-eh-k

Nickname(s): Ryan (prefers to go by this nickname), Ree, Anne (very occasional Kari from family and childhood acquaintances)

Age: 34

Date and place of birth: February 14th, Los Angeles, California.

Astrological sign: Aquarius

Gender: Cis female

Pronouns: She/Her

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Indian

Occupation: Former actress (generally) entrepreneure (but precisely: owner of her own beauty salon where she can work occasionally as a beautician & manager of Vesta’s Animal Shelter where she volunteers while also being on the managing team of Magdalena’s Theatre in Vesta)

Education: Bachelor degree in Film and medias at Columbia University , professional formation as a beautician

Religious beliefs: Raised Hindu, is agnostic.

THE PHYSICAL

Height: 5′9 feet.

Body Type: Hourglass

Hair: Dark brown (with natural highlights)

Eyes: Black

Clothing Preferences: Business Casual, white shirt & jeans with louboutins.

Defining Features: Multiple tattoos including a sunflower on her right ankle, this henna inspired pattern on her right wrist, this small saturn planet on her right side bood and this small doodle on her left thumb.

Voice Tone: Honeyed.

Blood-Type: A+

Allergies: None

ROMANCE

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual (preference towards women)

Romantic Orientation: (Most probably) Homoromantic

Do they have a type: Absolutely not!

Pet peeves: Cheating, loud chewers, people with no ambition

PERSONALITY

Likes: Her mother’s food, Orange crush soda, Jewelry (especially rubies), Unplanned trips around the world, Soft scented perfumes, Red lacey lingerie and Black nail polish.

Dislikes: Waiting at the airport, know-it-all types of clients, questions about her past, blue eyeliner.

Ambivert, introvert or extrovert?: Extrovert

FAMILY

Siblings: None

Birth order: -

Parents: Amara-Jayne & Sewa “Sam” Maleck

Children: None (had one abortion in 2014)

Do they want kids: Not biologically, but the door is not closed to fostering or adopting

SKILLS  

What language(s) do they speak: English and conversational French

What are they talented at: Singing, dancing

What is a hidden talent no one knows of: Sewing

What are they worst at: Cooking

A DEEPER LOOK

a little disclaimer is mandatory! she is somewhat similar to clémentine, if clémentine was money oriented and addicted to investing in a ton of projects. they are both workaholics, but in different ways. minnie likes to be in charge and know every details about her business and projects while ryan prefers to delegate. she loves to get involved and she’s a much better time manager than minnie. personality wise, i’d say ryan is way less annoying than minnie. ps! i’m whiter than snow white so i apologize for the stereotypes and the heavily “americanized” backstory. i’ve done some research, but i will keep on reading more about indian-american history before i feel comfortable using more of it in her biography! 

WHAT IS THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR FAMILY LIKE?:

it’s very complicated. although ryan benefits from it now, she hated the way she grew up. she never had a place to call home. she was moving almost every year, if not mulitple times, to follow her parents’ contracts. her father is a script writer and her mother a costume designer and they traveled according to their job or the projects they were working for, most of them being international. she would have liked to have a real home & long lasting friendships, but she never had access to that sort of luxury. she was also a very tough kid, very strong-minded and opinionated. she would never miss an opportunity to fight with her parents on all sorts of topics, especially their parenting skills. ryan has the feeling she failed them along the way, by not fitting in the mold they had built for her while they feel the same, that they failed to adapt to their daughter’s free spirit.

DESCRIBE THEIR PERSONALITY:

kind of all over the place? she has multiple facades. ryan refuses to open up about her past (how she so easily got a part in a huge bollywood production, how she blew her chance to become a real star in the industry, how her abortion happened, how she categorically refuses to be called by her full name). she pretends to be very emysterious and secretive while, in reality, she has the feeling that no one cares enough to bother and listen to her crazy life stories. he is extremely passionate. she layers the projects and the investments because she has faith in the success of everything she joins. she is a true multitasker, a busy bee. ryan is also a huge softie. she is charmed by the sight of any cute things, whether it’s a cute piece of clothing, a pen, an animal, a baby... she’s a turtle. she has a shield, but deep down she’s just very sweet and vulnerable.

ARE THEY HAPPY WHERE THEY ARE IN LIFE:

she’s never satisfied. she always wants more, wants to dream bigger, reach higher grounds. hence why trying out in the bollywood universe was a very in character project, although it failed to bring her the joy and pride she imagined. she drowns herself in work to feel like she has a purpose in life while, really, she’s only existing. she also wishes she could fix the broken pieces with her parents, before it’s too late, so she won’t ever be truly happy until this happens.

WHAT IS THEIR DREAM:

professionally, she wants her beauty line to be in as many countries as possible, à la kardashian but with actually great products. she wants to be famous, but make it right, with good intentions and not just empowered by her pride.

personally, she wants to connect with people, make friends, meaningful friendships. she wants to discover other sides of her personality, but, most importantly, she wants to see the good in humanity.

[lysataylor]

*VESTAHQS TASK #001: GET TO KNOW THE MUSE

but there is something that happens when you are told you are Too Much you begin to ask everyone, how small would you like me?

GENERAL STATS

BASIC INFO

Name: lysa amelia taylor.

Pronunciation: lie-sah.

Nickname(s): ly.

Age: thirty.

Date and place of birth: september 22nd, 1989; nyc, new york.

Astrological sign: virgo sun, cancer moon, pisces rising.

Gender: cis-female.

Pronouns: she/her.

Nationality: american.

Ethnicity: caucasian.

Occupation: art/creative director.

Education: b.a in journalism & visual arts (princeton university).

Religious beliefs: catholic (non-practising).

THE PHYSICAL

Height: 5′7′‘.

Weight: 119 lbs.

Body Type: slim.

Hair: brown.

Eyes: blue.

Clothing Preferences: business chic, feminine, neutral-toned.

Defining Features: front teeth gap.

Voice Tone: soft, mild.

Blood-Type: ab rh+.

Allergies: penicillin.

ROMANCE

Sexual Orientation: heterosexual.

Romantic Orientation: heteroromantic.

Do they have a type: cocky, slippery & way less interested in her than she is in them (speaking from past experience).

Pet peeves: being late, loud chewers.

PERSONALITY

Likes: wine, high-thread-count sheets, art museums, tidy workplaces & messy studios, painting, flowers (especially peonies), dainty jewellery, velvet furniture & silk dresses, coffee, powdered sugar, the smell of fresh print & a job well done, romance, lace lingerie, vintage bookstores, being needed.

Dislikes: thunderstorms, anything cherry-flavored (excluding maraschino cherries), flying, being taken for granted, blood (especially the smell of it), cold soups, doing laundry, spicy food, team sports, incense.

Ambivert, introvert or extrovert?: ambivert.

FAMILY

Siblings: one sister, holland katherine taylor (b. 1988).

Birth order: second born.

Parents: edward theodore taylor (b. 1962, business owner), eileen catelyn taylor (b. 1965, socialite).

Children: none.

Do they want kids: yes, someday.

SKILLS  

What language(s) do they speak: english, french.

What are they talented at: arts, time management.

What is a hidden talent no one knows of: she can do the splits.

What are they worst at: confrontations, saying ‘no’ (in personal settings).

A DEEPER LOOK

WHAT IS THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR FAMILY LIKE?:

distant. complicated. best consumed in small dosages & loved from afar. lysa’s father is first and foremost a businessman whose love language consists of approving nods, additional responsibilities and an occasional lunch. he’s always seen more of himself in his eldest, allowing lysa to do her own thing, but not taking much interest in it. lysa’s mother, however, finds her younger daughter perfect. at least as far as a personal therapist goes. and then there’s holland, her sister. the two rarely get along, each exchanged word followed by a bitter aftertaste and feelings of failure. lysa always gets tense when holland’s mentioned, her name a summoning call for lysa’s anxiety and insecurities. if only holland really was a heinous bitch, then she could feel justified in her aversion and mixed feelings. for now, however, their relationship is best described as complicated.

DESCRIBE THEIR PERSONALITY:

kind & grounded. can be a bit of a push-over, however. someone who takes pride in her work but little else. humble, but high-class - it’s obvious she comes from money even if she doesn’t flaunt it. seems like someone who’s got her shit together until you open the pandora’s box of unresolved issues & insecurities. doesn’t handle stress well, gets emotional and borderline unhinged when subjected to a lot it. lacks confidence in all fields except for professional. inherently unlucky and used to it (according to the rich white girl standards). feels & thinks way too much. soft™. but also (potentially) the crazy girl who leaves you ten consecutive voicemails after a one-night-stand.

ARE THEY HAPPY W/HERE THEY ARE IN LIFE:

getting there, she hopes. moving away from new york city, to make something of herself separate from her family & break free from the life she always felt was lived in her sister’s shadow certainly feels like a first step towards something greater. it’s been a year since & she wouldn’t go as far as to call herself ‘happy’, but her days in vesta are certainly ‘happier’.

WHAT IS THEIR DREAM:

fairytale-like happy ending, as simple and complicated as that.

[the-regal-warrior]

Making Mat: Part One

Welcome to my new Elorcan AU!! Yes, this definitely stemmed from the fact that I’ve watched Cheer like a million times, but I tried to write it so it would make sense if you haven’t seen the show. I’m so excited to share this little mini-series with you - it’ll be three parts in total!

Summary: It’s an Elorcan meets Cheer AU, because why not? Elide Lochan: member of the champion Terrasen University cheer team. Lorcan Salvaterre: serving his country in the army and Elide’s loving boyfriend. Watch their love unfold as their friends try to get him home to see her.

Warnings: Just some language, I think!

.

It was a very big day - probably the biggest day of the entire season. Well, aside from Banjali. 

Elide could practically feel the entire squad buzzing with energy as she walked into the gym. She was a member of the cheer team at Terrasen University, which just so happened to be the reigning champion collegiate cheer squad - and the most decorated. They’d won more than any other team, and just making the squad was a huge honor.

But today was the day they could be granted the greatest honor of all - being chosen for mat. Even though there were forty members, only twenty of them could actually compete at the Collegiate Championship Competition in Banjali, Eyllwe. They worked hard all season - basically competing amongst themselves - to prove themselves to be deserving of one of those coveted spots. 

Tossing her bag onto the bench, she was just turning to go stretch with some of the others on the mat when she was lifted into a hug from behind and spun around. She squealed in surprise, her fingers gripping the muscular arms around her waist - arms she thought belonged to her boyfriend’s best friend in the entire world. A glance down proved her suspicions were right - a mountain range was inked across his left forearm in greyscale, a perfect match to the one on Lorcan’s arm.

“Vaughan,” she giggled, “put me down.” Expecting to find her feet on the ground, she shrieked when she was tossed into the air. Reaching down to brace her hands on his shoulders, he caught her just before she hit the ground, pulling her into a tight hug as he set her down. “You’re such a pain in my ass, Osten.”

“If that’s your polite way of saying that I’m your best friend,” Vaughan started, tickling her sides and chuckling when she giggled, “then I humbly accept.”

She huffed, but nodded anyway. “Mmm, I mean, I’m basically stuck with you because of Lorcan.” He rolled his eyes, so Elide leaned up to press her lips to his cheek in a quick kiss. “I’m just kidding, love. You know I’m glad of your friendship.”

“I’m glad of yours, too.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Vaughan began steering her in the direction of the mat. “Besides, as his best friend, it’s basically my duty to look after his girl while he’s gone.” Lorcan Salvaterre, Elide’s boyfriend and Vaughan’s best friend, was serving in the army, and he’d been deployed to Adarlan’s base in Melisande for almost nine months. She missed him terribly, but she was glad that she and Vaughan had become close. It was a way for the two of them to bear the weight of missing someone they both loved so much.

She giggled, coming to the stop at the edge of the mat. “And he’d kill you if anything happened to me while he was gone, right?”

“Erm, yeah, more or less.” Vaughan scratched the back of his neck and offered her a small smile. “But that’s not the only reason I’m your friend - I hope you know that.”

Taking his hand as she turned to look at the two people taking turns tumbling across the open space in front of them, she murmured, “of course I know that - but thank you.” 

He squeezed her hand in a silent thank you, and then they both immediately started laughing when they realized that the two people tumbling like beasts across the floor were Fenrys and Asterin. They were the two best tumblers on the team, and it was fairly common to see them trying to out-tumble one another.

The fact that they had been dating for almost three years only seemed to make them more competitive. As Elide folded her legs and sank down onto the mat, Asterin flipped her golden ponytail over her shoulder and arched her brow at her boyfriend. 

Taking the silent dare, Fenrys winked at his girlfriend and took off across the surface, his body twisting and turning through the air so quickly that Elide almost struggled to keep up. He stuck the landing with a massive smile on his face and stepped back, gesturing for Asterin to take her turn.

She did so, with all of her usual swagger in place, even going so far to blow Fenrys a kiss before she sprang into action. If his pass had been difficult to follow, then hers could only be defined as practically impossible. Elide had always considered herself to be a decent tumbler, but Asterin made her look like she had no clue what she was doing. 

Slowly easing herself into a split and feeling her muscles starting to stretch, Elide watched as Asterin rounded on her boyfriend, giggling happily when he bowed his head and held his arms out to her. She launched herself at him, squealing when he caught her and spun her around.

Though she was happy for her friends, watching them be so happy together sent a pang of sadness right through her heart. Though she knew Lorcan was doing something he loved, something he was proud to do, Elide couldn’t help but wish that he was home with her. 

Her mind was consumed with thoughts of him as she continued stretching, though her mood improved significantly when she remembered that he, according to his last email, was supposed to be calling her later that night. She was just thinking that she’d have to ask her coach if she could break the no phones rule when the woman stepped up to the edge of the mat and called them all to attention. 

“Alright, everyone,” Evalin Ashryver Galathynius started, “I know you all know what today is - it’s Mat day. So, I won’t hold you in suspense. I have the list right here, so I’ll go through who’s actually on first, and then we’ll talk about who’s doing what.” Everyone shuffled off to the sides, leaving the center clear for those who had been chosen. “And remember,” she added, “just because you weren’t chosen doesn’t mean you’re not a valuable member of this team, okay?”

She waited for everyone to nod their agreement before reaching for the notebook on the chair behind her. Elide felt her nerves settle into the pit of her stomach, and she reached for the dark blue scrunchie flecked with little white stars on her wrist. Lorcan had given it to her - well, technically, he’d given it back, since he’d stolen it from the pack before she’d even had time to open it - before he’d left for his last deployment, and she only took it off when she absolutely had to. It was a source of comfort for her, a way for her to keep him close whenever he was gone, and it helped take the edge off her nerves. 

Evalin cleared her throat. “Okay, then: boys first. The eleven of you chosen are Sam, Ilias, Enda, Ress, Galan, Luca, Dorian, Nox, Aedion, Vaughan, and Fenrys.”

Elide could see each of the boys let out a sigh of relief when they were chosen, and she realized that the moment of truth was all but upon her.

“And now, the girls.” Her coach looked up at all of them for just a moment, offering them a small smile before she read the names. “Kaya, Briar, Edda, Vesta, Lysandra, Nehemia, Aelin, Asterin, and Elide.”

Feeling the smile pulling at her lips, Elide joined her teammates in the center of the mat, hugging Fenrys quickly before Vaughan was tucking her into his side with a happy little grin on his face. 

Evalin offered all of them a very happy smile as everyone else shuffled over to the back half of the gym to keep stretching. “So, I have a feeling you all know why you’ve been selected, but I’ll just go over it quickly. The stunt groups will be as follows: Elide, Fenrys, and Vaughan; Aelin, Aedion, and Nox; Vesta, Ilias, and Enda; Lysandra, Ress, and Galan; and Nehemia, Dorian, and Sam. Baskets will be all but Lysandra’s stunt group, with Lys joining Elide’s, Galan joining Aelin’s, Ress joining Nehemia’s, and Edda joining Vesta’s. Elide, Aelin, and Vesta will be the top girls in the pyramid, with Lys, Nehemia, Edda, and Briar as the other fliers. Luca, Asterin, and Kaya will be our main tumblers, though Fenrys will also be doing quite a lot as well.”

She’d been listening with rapt attention as her coach rattled off their spots, and she felt some of her nerves settle back in. Stunts, baskets, and pyramid, plus the necessary tumbling, was a lot to ask of one person, but Elide knew that she could handle it. She’d spent years training for this exact moment, and she was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Now that everything is all sorted,” Evalin began, “let’s get started on the pyramid. Take five more minutes to stretch and then we’re going to run this.”

Realizing that she’d better talk to her coach before practice really got underway, Elide jogged up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

Turning, the older woman offered her a smile. “Elide. What can I do for you?”

“Well,” Elide said, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. “I sort of have a favor to ask you.” 

She arched an eyebrow questioningly, and Elide idly realized that was where her daughter must have picked up on the habit - Aelin had perfected the single-eyebrow-arch before they were teenagers. “What’s up, dear?”

“Okay, so I know you have the no phones rule, but Lorcan told me he’d be able to call tonight, and I was really hoping you’d be willing to bend it a little, just for tonight.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a single breath, and Evalin blinked at her, a slight smile on her face. “I was just really hoping you could keep an eye on my phone so I don’t miss his call?”

“Elide,” Evalin finally said, interjecting before she could keep rambling. “Of course I’ll watch for him to call - I know how important this is, and I’d never want you to miss it.”

Elide grinned, a happy little hum slipping through her lips as she hugged the other woman. “Thanks, Aunt Evalin!” Though they weren’t related by blood, Evalin and Elide’s mother, Marion, were as close as sisters, and the two families spent as much time together as they did apart.

“Of course, love.” She returned the hug before nudging Elide in the direction of the rest of the team. “Now, get yourself over there, miss. I’ve got a winning routine to perfect, and you’ve got a pyramid to run through.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She handed her phone over and jogged back to the mat, taking her place between Ress and Galan for the pyramid. Both of them offered her small smiles. Though she usually stunted with Fenrys and Vaughan, her starting spot took her away from the two of them. Not that it mattered - she trusted every member of this team with her life. 

“Alright, let’s do this!” Evalin yelled, clapping her hands twice and starting the music. 

Waiting for her cue, Elide took a deep breath and braced her hands on the boys’ shoulders. She nodded once, held still for two counts, and then she was moving. 

Being one of the top girls meant that she was constantly moving, constantly twisting and turning and flipping, being passed from one set of bases to the next to being braced on someone’s thigh or shoulders. She was rarely still, only hitting a pose for a matter of seconds before she was being tossed around again. Even though Vesta was the center top girl, the one who would be the focal point of the actual pyramid, Elide and Aelin were both given parts that were just as difficult. 

She lost count of everything that was going on in the gym around her, only focusing on the pyramid and her role in it, making sure that she was doing what she needed to be doing when she was meant to be doing it. 

It wasn’t until she’d been put safely back on the ground after their fifth - or was it the sixth? - run-through of the pyramid, Nehemia slinging an arm around her shoulders as they both tried to breathe, that she noticed Evalin was holding her phone in her hand. She gestured for whoever was FaceTiming her to wait for a moment before turning to face the team. “Okay, y’all, let’s take a break. Elide, someone’s on the phone for you.”

There was a loud chorus of “oooo” and “aww” echoing around her - everyone knew that she was waiting for him to call, but Elide hardly noticed. She was ducking around her teammates, all but sprinting for her coach. “Thank you, she managed to breathe before her phone was in her hands and her eyes met her boyfriend’s. “Lorcan!” she squealed, tears springing into her eyes.

“Hey beautiful,” he greeted, his normally stoic face splitting into the widest grin. “Are you crying, love?”

She sniffed, sinking to the ground and wiping the few tears that had slipped down her cheeks. “I just missed you, baby.”

He gave her a soft smile, and she noticed that there were unshed tears lining his eyes. “I miss you too, Elide.” They just stared at one another for a few moments, grateful for this time to catch up when they were apart, but eventually Lorcan broke the silence. “So, first things first - did you make mat?”

“I did! And I’ll be doing stunts, baskets, tumbling, and pyramid!”

She could see the pride filling his eyes. “I knew you would, El. I’m so proud of you, baby. Tell me everything.”

~*^*~

Vaughan watched Elide slowly sink to the ground, and the smile that spread across her face was as happy as he’d ever seen her. As he watched her keep talking, an idea was slowly forming in his head. 

Grabbing Aedion’s wrist where he was leaning against the wall next to him, he dragged him over to where Fenrys, Asterin, and Aelin had flopped down on the floor. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who sees how happy Elide is right now?”

“Aww, I know,” Asterin sighed, the others nodding along with her. “She really loves him.”

“They both love each other so much,” Fenrys added.

Aedion heaved a sigh. “I wish he could be here to see her - he’d be beyond proud of how talented she is.”

Vaughan nodded, a small smirk spreading over his face. Aelin noticed, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you thinking over there, Vaughan?”

“What if we found a way to bring Lorcan home to see her - and us - cheer?”

The others were all telling him that they thought it was a wonderful idea when Elide’s voice reached them “Fenrys, Vaughan!” she yelled, waving them over. “Get your asses over here - Lor wants to talk to you!”

Agreeing to table the discussion for the moment, the two of them jogged toward Elide, though Vaughan knew that the gears were still turning in Fenrys’s head, just like they were still turning in his.

Whatever it took, he would find a way to bring his best friend home to see his girl.

.

Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @snelbz @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @nalgenewhore @bookrebelwordwarrior @sleeping-and-books @photofeesh @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @belamoonbeam @mis-lil-red @julemmaes @thesirenwashere @tswaney17 @b00kworm @over300books @maastrash @empress-ofbloodshed @ladywitchling

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from my tags, please let me know! I can’t wait to know what you thought!

[juniper-and-lamplight]

DGHDA Feedback Fest prompt: Femslash or fic starring women

I added this prompt to the @dghdafeedbackfest rec prompt list because I hoped people would use it, and so obviously I’m going to kick off my recs for the week by using it myself! I’ve recced a lot of these fics previously, but I’ve added some newer ones, too, because I’m always looking to read about the weird, brilliant women on this show. Recs are under the cut, in alphabetical order by author.

A Moment of Clarity - electricteatime | @kieren-fucking-walker - 7k, G, Farah/Tina “Farah is saved from answering when Tricia promptly throws up on her own shoes. She would be more annoyed, but in the moment she finds herself too preoccupied to care. Girls with girls. There’s a thought.“ If you believe that Farah Adrienne Black deserves ALL the love and acceptance, from herself and from others, then you absolutely must read this fic.

real and okay and beautiful - embraidery | @blueandnoah - 2.8k, G, Farah/Tina/Amanda (but mostly just friendship) "Mona’s feeling down in the dumps (body insecurities) and her friends try to help her feel better about it all!” Do you love awesome women supporting each other and feeling free? If so, read this!

Keep the Home Fires Burning - @flightinflame - 16k, M, Farah/Tina, AU “Bergsberg is a small town off the beaten track. For Project Vesta, a Blackwing runaway, it offers a fresh start and the chance of a friend in the town’s sheriff.” A painful, cathartic fic that gives Tina’s character some real attention, and gives Farah and Tina the happiness they deserve.

Casual (Isn’t Something I Can Do) - @gallantrejoinder - WIP, E, Farah/Tina “Farah Black may have come to terms with being a lesbian, but that doesn’t mean she’s … out, exactly. And there aren’t that many opportunities for closeted lesbians to gain any experience with other women. Enter Tina Tevetino - bisexual, out, and experienced. And more importantly, extremely good at maintaining the "benefits” part of a friends with benefits arrangement.“ This is the Farina fic of my DREAMS, y’all. The characterization feels so deeply accurate to me that I’m not sure I can convey the feeling with words? I just. Love it. SO HARD.

pray for the thunder and the rain - inkyfishes - 7k, T, Farah/Amanda "A Farah-centric slice of a possible future. Everything has gone wrong. Everything is broken. Farah works through her anxiety whilst beginning their lives on the run. Her place in the universe is, as yet, undecided.” An excellent and all-too-brief glimpse into Farah’s psyche, with a steady undercurrent of Faranda.

i was born in a summer storm (i live there still) - janeseyre - 10k, G, Farah & Todd & Dirk “Farah confronts the vestiges of her past as she, Dirk, and Todd travel east to visit her mother. It turns out Farah isn’t as over her father’s death as she thought she was.” A deeper look into Farah’s families, both biological and chosen; full of lovely little smile moments and Farah getting the closure she deserves.

Never Played It Cool - @lavellington - 1.8k, T, Farah/Amanda “Dude,” Amanda says, squeezing her tight while her hair tickles Farah’s face. “It’s so good to see you.” “You too,” Farah says, meaning it, and when they break apart Amanda’s hands linger on her shoulders for a second longer than they have to, and that’s nice. That’s enough to feed her borderline pathetic crush for a week, at least.” Short, sweet, a tiny bit steamy, and beautifully in-character.

Hold Her Fast - Lynds | @gold-from-straw - 11.9k, T, Farah/Amanda, AU “Farah Black is the new girl in Amanda’s school, and she’s captivating. Everyone has a story about her. Amanda just can’t quite figure out why her entire being is so totally aware of her, why her skin prickles when she’s around, why Farah looks more real than anyone else she’s ever known.” I’m not typically into high school AUs, but this one is funny, moving, angsty, and gloriously DEFIANT.

Firearms Proficiency 101 - @nekosmuse - 3k, T, Farah/Amanda “I can’t believe you took me to your private shooting range on our first date. That is so punk.” Do you enjoy awkward Faranda? ME TOO. Especially stuff like Farah saying: “I… I am… into you as well.” These nerds

you will soothe my worried looks - orphan_account - 2k, T, Farah/Amanda “Farah sees a therapist. It’s a strange journey, but not one she needs to take alone.“ I would read many thousands more words of Farah in therapy, honestly.

there’s cell reception on this widow’s walk - strix_alba - 2k, T, Farah/Tina "In which Tina sort-of-kind-of asks Farah to stay with her in Bergsberg, and Farah kind-of-sort-of wants to say yes.” Clumsy flirting, Farina styles! Tina mentally describes the Jacket Team as a “bunch of hot, uptight weirdos,” which is p e r f e c t.

Coincidental - tastewithouttalent - 3.7k, M, Farah/Tina “It turns out that blue is a ridiculously good color against the dark of Farah’s skin, and also that that shirt fits her better than any shirt has any right to fit anyone, and also apparently Tina has more of a uniform kink than she realized she did.” You just have to love a babbling, awkwardly-crushing Tina.

And finally, this fic isn’t femslash-focused, but it has enough Faranda in it that it deserves an honorable mention:

Stuck in the Middle - @dont-offend-the-bees​ - WIP, T, Farah/Amanda, Dirk/Todd “Dirk returns to the Ridgely after an impromptu jaunt across the Nordic wilderness, and finds life has moved on somewhat in his absence. With Farah camping in his bedroom, Bart and Ken living in (alleged) domestic bliss, and Todd freshened up and back on the dating scene, he finds himself with no one to commiserate with but his agoraphobic landlady Amanda; who, sadly, remains the one person he can never be truly honest with, on account of the whole ‘lying to get the flat’ thing.”  Seriously, the intensity of the Faranda flirting in this fic is off the charts, and it’s laugh-til-you-snort funny as well.

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