#through the moon prism

[amethysts-angel0214]

Funny from Funny Pets Lore yayyy

Funny means "hilarious," "interesting," or "strange". Of course, it is not her real name. She is the sixth Funny to take on the stage name Funny Prism.

150 years ago, as urbanization progressed in the Southern Hemisphere due to the Gold Rush, influential politicians and royalty from various countries created mysterious entertainment districts where cats were worshipped as gods. The name of the district was "Cat God," and while alcohol, prostitution, and gambling were all legal there, it had its own judicial powers where bad public manners such as littering cigarettes were severely punished. At the time, French poet Charles Pierre Baudelaire described this entertainment district as "gathering together the constellations of the Southern Hemisphere."

Its glamour surpassed that of modern-day Las Vegas. The first Funny Prism emerged as the city's star. A skilled dancer, she entertained audiences with dances from around the world, including the waltz, tango, rumba, tap, and even Japanese dance and Cossack dancing. However, after only five years of topping the showgirl charts, she mysteriously disappeared. There are rumors that she either grabbed a number of balloons and disappeared into the sky, or that she caught the eye of royalty and was kidnapped.

There were rumors that she had been killed, but the truth remains a mystery. For 150 years, the top dancers in this town were Funny Prism. The name was given to those who inherited the name, and the life of the person who inherited the name was entirely covered by taxes. It could be said that the entire town protects them so that they do not disappear. Funny, who appears in the main story, was chosen as the sixth generation, and as a privilege, she was able to live in a remote area on the outskirts of town.

Since she is always surrounded by various costumes, she wanders around the house in her underwear. There is a reason why not many people know about this town called Nekogamisama. This town declared itself an independent nation as the "God of Cat Republic" in 1978, but the United Nations does not recognize the God of Cat Republic as a country, like the Principality of Hat River Province in Australia and the Principality of Sealand in the UK. However, a pass is now required to enter this town, and it is no longer a red-light district that anyone can easily enter. Now, you cannot play in this town unless you obtain a special passport. At the same time, the name Funny Prism remains in the world of only a few people know about.

[vicshush]

[ID: A photo or photoshopped image of 7 gray, mostly pale, strands of yarn or thread pulling through the eye of a brass needle. The needle is in the midground, while the threads start from and return to the foreground, coming in from an angle close to the viewer's left and angling back toward the viewer's right. As the threads pass through the eye, the strands are colorized. They spread out and proceed through bright rainbow colors, from red at the top to violet at the bottom. /end ID]

Dark side of the loom

[sailorsoons]

Prism Power (k. mg)

PAIRING: Mingyu x afab. reader

SUMMARY: It’s your first Halloween with Mingyu as a couple and when a power outage threatens to ruin your favorite holiday, Mingyu makes sure to save the night. 

WC: 3,891

AU: Established Relationship

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Explicit language, recreational drinking at a party, brief mentions of gambling (poker), terrible Sailor Moon jokes/puns, reader gets a bit upset for stuff going wrong at a party, sexually explicit content including vaginal fingering, a little bit of cum eating, hooking up in someone else’s bathroom, Mingyu begs a little if you squint, heavy making out, lots of ass and thigh squeezing, Mingyu does help reader jump up onto the counter, a little bit of biting.

A/N: This was originally requested for Haliween on sailorrhansol by an anonymous user - so sorry that it was lost for a time, anon! It is now being brought back for Valentine's Day weekend :)

A/N 2: This is totally unedited - forgive me.

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“ARE YOU SURE I HAVE TO WEAR THE HAT?” Mingyu pouts where he stands by the door, eyes wide and blinking at you. “It’s just going to fall off.” 

You put your hands on your hips, huffing in annoyance where you stand in the hall. Sweat drips on the back of your neck from rushing around the apartment to get dressed, and though putting yourself into the very itchy and difficult-to-get-into Sailor Moon costume will be worth it, you’re already worn out before the night can start.

Mingyu sees the way your brows pinch together. He grabs the hat in question from the arm of the couch, placing it atop his dark hair. He holds out his hands as if to say ta da and gives you a sheepish grin. “Hat it is.”

“Thank you, Tuxedo Mask.” 

“Prism power make your boyfriend do whatever you want,” he mutters under his breath, dropping his hands. You ignore him, instead appraising his costume. 

Looking at Mingyu up and down makes your heart flutter. He’s absurdly handsome outside of costume, but the well-fitted suit, elegant cape and even the top hat make him look even better. He stands near the door, chewing his lip as he lets you survey his costume, dark eyes wide. 

“You look really good,” you promise, crossing the space of the living room to your boyfriend. He reaches out toward you as you step into his orbit, drawn to your comforting touch. Wrapping your arms around his middle, you give him a squeeze, looking up at him through your lashes as you smile. “Really good.”

He smirks, his nervousness edged with the cockiness you know and love. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” 

“What do I get for allowing you to dress me up?” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t want to do couples costumes.” 

“You’re right.” His hand drifts from your lower back to your ass, squeezing lightly. “And I wanted to see you in this little dress.” 

Rolling your eyes, you step away from him. He pouts as you do, watching you as you grab your back and point him toward the door to get going. “What?” he whines, trudging toward the door. “You look really hot in the outfit.” 

“Come on, we’re going to be late!”

Sighing, Mingyu follows your directions to the door, grabbing the clear glasses off of the catch-all to put them on and complete the costume. He frowns a little at the plastic lenses, squinting to see through them. Wordlessly, you grab his favorite pair of sunglasses from the catch-all, raising them up toward him.

“Really?” 

“I’m willing to make a concession.”

He grins eagerly, trading out the traditional costume lenses for his fancy designer sunnies. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Let’s go, handsome.” 

A stormy sky looms over the city. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolls. The chill wind makes the short skirt of your Sailor Moon costume flutter, a shiver sliding up your spine as Mingyu opens the door of the Uber for you to slide in. 

As the car drives, you lean over Mingyu and look out the window nervously at the darkening sky. It’s already late at night, but you can see the thick storm clouds threatening to break loose. 

“The party is inside,” Mingyu reminds you gently, sensing your nervousness. “It won’t get ruined.”

“I know. I just love Halloween, I don’t want it to rain.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, leaving you soft and out of breath. “It’ll be alright. We’re going to have a great time.” He points at the sky, accusatory. “Prism power go away!” 

Mingyu is the kind of love you thought you’d never have. When you’d met him at a bar all those years ago, you were sure he’d shake out to be another reckless decision, albeit fun. And it had been a fun decision, throwing caution to the wind and letting the charming, very attractive man take you home for the night. 

And then the next night, followed by breakfast the next morning. And then dinner and a movie, and coffee the next morning. Mingyu kept asking you to go places and you kept saying yes. Not just because he was unnaturally good at turning you into a mess late at night in your tangled, messy sheets, but because he was charming and funny. 

Trust has never come easy for you, but Mingyu has always risen to the occasion and exceeded your expectations. You feel a swell of affection for him as he slides out of the car and adjusts his costume, extending his hand to you with a grin. 

When you get out of the car, you stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his. You feel him smile into the kiss, hands resting on your waist briefly. When you pull away, you look up at him to see he’s already looking at you through his silky lashes. 

“What was that for?” 

“I just love you,” you quip. Lacing your fingers with his, you tug his hand toward the stairwell leading up to Soonyoung’s apartment. “Thank you for being my Tuxedo Mask.”

Mingyu flushes and smiles down at his feet. He lets you tug him along, hands linked. Music echoes down the stairwell, muted by the door to Soonyoung’s apartment. You let yourself in without knocking, immediately hit by the explosion of Halloween decor and music. 

Thriller plays loudly somewhere in the apartment. People fill out the entire space, making it cramped and difficult to navigate. Mingyu’s hands go to your waist and he pulls you to his chest, walking with you pressed close to him in the sea of people.

How Soonyoung ever manages to stuff this many people in his apartment is beyond you. You swear he doesn’t have a home that’s that large, and yet each time he has a party, you see more people than you’ve ever seen packed tight. 

Your friends are easy to spot in the corner, dominating the poker table space that Seungcheol has undoubtedly asked for. The man in question sits in a folding chair dressed as Jared Leto’s Joker, his crimson hair slicked back. He looks up and grins when he sees the two of you, holding out his hand for a fist bump while shoving chips toward the center of the table. 

“You two are cute,” he says, eyes drifting back to Jeonghan who is looking like the cat that ate the canary - and who is dressed like a ridiculous angel. “Want us to deal you in?” Seungcheol asks your boyfriend.

“Deal her a hand while I get drinks.” He squeezes your waist and kisses your head. “What do you want?” 

“A seltzer, please.” 

Jihoon looks up as you take a seat between him and Seungcheol. “Holy shit, he really does look like Tuxedo Mask. You weren’t lying.” 

“And why aren’t you in a costume?” You demand sharply, drinking in Jihoon’s jeans, black t-shirt and fitted ballcap.

“I am. I’m Jason Bourne.”

“Please.” You pick up your cards from the table, looking at your hand. “That’s not a costume and you know it. You literally wear this every day.” 

“Okay, well Vernon is in the same outfit so go yell at him.”

By the time Mingyu returns, you’ve won him a single hand. You feel his presence at your back, making you look up at where he stands close behind you. He grins and puts your drink down on the table, leaning over your shoulder to look at the cards you show him. 

He hums thoughtfully, hooking his chin between your shoulder and neck to watch you play. You motion for him to switch spots and let him play with his friends, but he shakes his head, content to let you try your hand instead. 

You’re not particularly good at poker. It’s a game that Mingyu taught you because he and his friends liked to play on Friday nights and he wanted you to feel included. Now, you tag along on Friday’s but instead of playing, you sit on the sidelines with Soonyoung, who is always eager to host games but isn’t exactly good at them.

The host in question appears out of the crush of the apartment crowd well into the game. He screeches happily when he sees you, bending down to press generous kisses on your cheek, which makes Mingyu grunt in annoyance. It earns him kisses on the cheek from Soonyoung as well, Mingyu groaning and shoving at the man dressed in the same tiger onesie he wears every Halloween. 

“Come on,” Soonyoung urges, pulling at your hands. “I want you to be my partner for haunted beer pong.”

“What makes it haunted?” You let your friend pull you out of your sweet. Mingyu swaps places with you, picking up your cards and winking playfully at you as Soonyoung tugs you along.

“Nothing, unless you count Chan lurking since he lost the first round.” 

“I definitely count that.” 

Chan is indeed lurking around the table handing out unwarranted advice to the teams playing beer pong. You eventually throw your ball at him and hit him in the head after he insists your elbows are too close to the table, earning a shriek of laughter from your friends.

You feel good, the early beginnings of a buzz taking over as you sip the seltzers Mingyu drops off as he checks on you between rounds of poker. When he’s had enough of Jeonghan cheating and taking all of his money, he slides his hands around your waist from behind and settles his chin on your shoulder, only detaching when you go to make a shot at a cup. 

Wonwoo comes around - dressed as a vampire - and holds up a camera, signaling for the two of you to stand together. You giggle as Mingyu scoops you toward him, dipping you backward for a romantic kiss just as the lights in the apartment go out and the music goes dead.

There are a few shrieks as a crack of thunder rattles the window. Mingyu leans upward, holding you close in the total darkness until a few people use the flashlights on their phones to light up the room.

Outside, the sky unleashes a torrent of rain, lightning lighting up the windows. Mingyu jumps a little at the next crack of thunder, offering you a sheepish smile when you look at him. 

The party doesn’t stop with the lights out, but it grows considerably hotter and a little more chaotic in Soonyoung’s apartment. Without the buzz of the music, the sound of voices is louder than before and as the minutes tick by without air conditioning, the crowd in the living room begins to make it humid and heated.

The gloves on your hand feel sticky with sweat as you fan yourself. It doesn’t help that the material the Sailor Scout uniform is made from isn’t made for being wet, which leaves you constantly checking the front of the costume for signs of sweat stains. 

Your mood deflates a little. Mingyu keeps by your side, sitting on the arm of Soonyoung’s couch with you on the seat next to him, leaning your forehead against his legs. Your drink has gone a little warm and now that it seems like the power will be out for a long time, Soonyoung has put an embargo on opening the refrigerator repeatedly until the power comes back. 

In the dim light of the living room, Chan trips over someone’s shoe and falls over, spilling his beer. You feel the lukewarm liquid splash down the front of your costume and you shoot to your feet, startled by the spill. 

Chan is apologizing before he can even peel himself from where he’s half crashed into the coffee table full of drinks and decor as you hold your hands out and wince, looking at the wet front of your body.

“Chaaaaan,” you whine, pouting. “Ugh.”

“I’m so sorry!” He peels himself from the table and looks at you, eyes round and pleading. “Fuck, let me get paper towels, ugh I’m so sorry!” 

Mingyu holds out a hand and rises. “I’ve got it. I don’t trust you to not make it worse.” 

Grabbing your hand, Mingyu leads you away from the living room toward the stairs. Frustration mounts inside of you as you follow him up the steps, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. Your night isn’t ruined but it’s not going the way you imagined, and now you’re covered in the stale smell of beer and your costume is stained.

It’s quieter upstairs. Bypassing the guest bathroom, Mingyu leads you straight into Soonyoung’s primary bedroom and to the ensuite bathroom. You’re grateful the two of you have privileges in his house, going where others aren’t allowed to get away from the crowd with your soaked chest.

Mingyu spins you toward the counter. He taps your thigh and you nod, jumping a little as he hoists you the rest of the way onto the granite countertop. The bathroom is a decent size with his and hers sinks, double doors leading to a closet, and a massive bathtub. 

“This sucks,” you mutter, looking down at the vaguely yellow color of your once white dress. “I was having fun until this.”

“I know.” He doesn’t disagree or try to tell you it doesn’t suck - he is well aware that the ugly stain does suck. He takes off his top hat and glasses, eyebrows furrowed. “Peel this off for me, yeah? I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t see you raise your brows as he vanishes from the bathroom, leaving the door to the bedroom open. Rain rages against the bedroom windows, flashes of lightning lighting up the bathroom momentarily.

Carefully, you do what Mingyu has asked. You peel the gloves off your arms, carefully setting them down on the counter before you reach behind your back and reach for the zipper. You can’t quite seem to get it, struggling and angling your arm backward, fingers grasping.

Mingyu reappears with a bottle of detergent in his hand and some rags. He notices you struggling and laughs a little, setting down his things to sweep his hands over your shoulders to the zipper.

Dropping your arm, you watch him in the mirror as he focuses entirely on your zipper. It’s dark in the bathroom but you can see him enough to make out his features, watching the way his dark brows pull together and his bottom lip tucks between his teeth in concentration.

He manages to get the zipper free, pulling it down slowly so as to not snag the fabric. The rough pads of his fingers scrape against your warm skin, sending a shiver up your spine. You watch as he smirks, dark eyes flicking up to catch yours in the mirror when he realizes why you’re twitching. 

Biting back a smile, Mingyu makes sure to drag his hands across your skin as he pushes the fabric from your shoulders and down your arms. His touch heats your skin and you feel breathy, immediately affected by something as simple as his fingers on your arms. 

Mingyu pays extra attention to helping you step out of the costume, feather-light fingers brushing down your thighs as he pulls the fabric along. You know he’s doing it on purpose. Still, you find it a little harder to breathe, leaning heavily against the counter. 

He stands back up to his full height and leans around you, pressing his chest to your back in order to reach the things he put on the counter. His breath puffs against your shoulder as he murmurs, “Cold? You’re shivering.” 

You glare at him in the mirror. He’s grinning widely, eyes a little hungry. “Was this all just a plan to get me naked?”

He shakes his head and pulls away from you. You watch as he turns on the sink, pulling the stopper to fill it with cold water and detergent. He puts your costume inside the sink, soaking it.

“I’d never risk ruining your Halloween just to get you naked, baby.” Your neck and cheeks heat, feeling shy suddenly. “However, I’m not complaining about my view.” 

Of course he’s not. Without the Sailor Moon outfit, you’re left in a lacy white thong and bra to match. He dries his hands on a towel, prowling back over to you as he drinks you in, gaze heated. “Did you wear this on purpose?” 

“It’s the only white I had that couldn’t be seen under the costume.” 

“Hmm.” He reaches for your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch ignites a fire inside of you, your costume long forgotten as he tilts his head, admiring you. “Sure it had nothing to do with me loving you in white?”

“Nope.”

Mingyu’s hand skates from your waist to your ass, squeezing a handful playfully. “Well your costume needs to soak… so we need to pass the time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He presses in close, putting his forehead against yours. You feel his mouth brush yours when he says, “Hop back up on the counter for me.” 

With shaking limbs, you do as he asks, spreading your legs to give him space. He crowds you into the counter, making you lean backward against Soonyoung’s mirror as he presses in. He steals a kiss from you, lips hungry but slow. You make a sound in the back of your throat, sliding your fingers into his hair and tugging. 

Mingyu is an enthusiastic kisser, pleased hums escaping him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands skim up and down your thighs, a warm contrast to the pool granite of the countertop. You squeeze your knees into his hips, feeling a dull throb between your legs at just innocent touching and kissing. 

Somewhere outside, thunder rolls again. You’ve long forgotten about the party, lost in the heat of Mingyu’s mouth as he trails a blazing path of kisses toward your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him access as he attaches his mouth to your pulsepoint, sucking lightly.

A moan escapes you, echoing in the bathroom. Mingyu groans in response, eager and fueled by the way you melt in his hands, sagging against the counter. One of his hands squeezes your thigh greedily while the other sinks between your legs, pressing against the damp silk of your underwear. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, biting your neck and making you squeak. “Really? From just kissing.”

“And the costume, a little.”

“I’ll wear it whenever you want,” he promises. He buries his face in your neck, moving his fingers in a slow circle against your clit. “Just tell me when.”

Instead of answering verbally, you let out a breathy sound, hips twitching forward as he increases the pressure. It feels good, pleasure sparking low in your stomach as he continues to tease you. 

“Mingyu,” you mutter, fingers tugging harder at his hair. “Be nice to me.” 

“I like when you’re needy for me.” You can’t see him, but you know he’s pouting.

“I need you now. Please.”

His smile presses against your neck. He relents, hooking a finger through your panties to pull them to the side. He leans back to look down where he drags his knuckle down your sticky folds. He swears quietly, throwing back his head. 

A flash of lightning splashes him in silver for a moment, making him look like a god. And he sort of is, in a way. You cannot imagine worshiping anything the way you worship him and he returns the sentiment tenfold, his touch almost reverent as he circles his fingers around your dripping entrance. 

Mingyu knows exactly how you like to be touched. It makes you dizzy and leaves you panting against the mirror, sinking further and further so that you’re nearly bent in half as his fingers expertly circle your clit properly, applying enough pressure to drive you wild but not enough to work you up too fast.

It’s a marathon, not a race for him. Your thoughts turn to static when he sinks a finger into your pussy, both of you groaning as you clench around his fingers. The intrusion feels good, especially when he shallowly fucks his fingers into you.

“There,” you gasp, digging your nails into the back of his neck. Mingyu moans at that, the sound sweet to your ears. “Right there, Gyu. Shiiiiit.”

“Feels good?”

“Uh huh.”

Your pleasure fuels him, making him a little harsher. A little more feral. He crushes his mouth against yours, stealing your breath in a fiery kiss. He presses another finger in, fucking you with his hand in earnest now. You fall to pieces under him, tongues tangled and teeth clinking together. 

Mingyu presses his thumb to your clit as he works your pussy, applying pressure while pressing his fingers against your front wall, movements precise and dead on. You let out a loud sound, burying your face in his neck to quiet yourself. It makes him laugh roughly, increasing his pace, the wetness loud against the silence of the bathroom. 

“Come on,” he pleads, voice gentle. “Come for me, I wanna see it.” 

“Close,” you pant. “Close close close.”

He’s persistent, driving you right toward an orgasm, skillful fingers divine. You feel the coil wind tight in your stomach until you’re shivering in his hold, squeezing your eyes close as your breath starts to shorten and you feel your muscles start to twitch, a sure sign of your orgasm.

Mingyu presses his mouth against yours, wet and spit-slicked from your messy kissing. “Give it to me,” he begs. “Please baby, come for me.”

The desperation in his voice and the ferocity at which he presses that spot inside of you makes you unravel. You bite down on the cloth of his costume, muting your scream as you come around him hard, vision white. 

He praises you through it, peppering you in sweet compliments as he kisses your head, fingers moving at a leisurely place to work you through your high. You feel the stickiness between your legs, heaving a sigh as you drop your head back hard against the mirror with a thunk. 

“Be careful,” he chastises, slowing his hand until he’s stopped entirely, fingers pressed deep. You look up at him with stars in your eyes, blinking dreamily. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

“Meh.”

He smiles, retracting his hand slowly from your core. You wine, feeling the slick pull of his fingers as he lifts his hands. You watch as he brings them up to his mouth, dark eyes locked on yours as he presses them in, sucking the gleam right off his skin.

Mingyu hums happily, closing his eyes as he savors the taste. You lick your lips, mouth going dry as you watch him, lips parted. When he opens his eyes, his pupils are a little blown.

“That was hot,” you tell him honestly, staring.

His smile is a little shy. “We still have time to kill. Your costume needs to soak a little longer.”

“Does it?”

“Mhmm. Plus,” he grins, kneeling and pressing you open by the knees. “I wanna prism power eat this pussy.”

“Mingyu!”

“It was a good joke!”

“No it wasn’t!”

He huffs, eyes zeroing in on your dripping cunt. “Whatever. Now let me have a taste, baby.” 

PERMANENT TAGS:

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @cookiearmy @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched@eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy@gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380 @bultaereume @yoongznme @kaitieskidmore97 @coffee-addict-kitten @gyubakeries@archivistworld @asyre @kaepjjangiya @fancypeacepersona@beckyloveshannie @imujings @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jbluen@mingumis @kimsaerom @imlonelydontsendhelp

[ingeniousmindoftune]

Could you please write a fic about stack cheating with mary and getting turned, with reader being the one to find him with smoke? thats messy but i looooove me some drama

Smoke in the Room

Pairing: Stack Moore xblack!reader

Featuring: Mary (the other woman)

Setting: Urban supernatural underworld, 2025

Tone: Dark, sensual, heartbreaking

Theme: When betrayal is laced with magic… it burns deeper.

Mixture of the movie with a mixture of modern day.

You felt it before you saw it—a sudden electric shock racing down your spinal column, a tightening in your gut like shards of ice-water sluicing through bone. The world contracted into a single, breathless instant before your mind even managed to whisper a warning.

Stack had been a ghost for weeks—his messages reduced to curt, one-word texts; his late-night returns scented with damp asphalt and the bitter tang of regret. The warm amber glow that once lit his eyes had dimmed, replaced by something distant and hollow that haunted the edges of his gaze. You told yourself it was the city’s unrest—Sinner raids whipping violence into every alley—but you blamed anything and everything except the truth gnawing at your ribs.

Still, a frantic voice inside you had been screaming.

Tonight, you followed him under the fractured glow of streetlights, past graffiti-carved walls and shuttered storefronts, along cracked sidewalks where weeds thrust through concrete. You trailed him to the abandoned church on East Briar: its gabled roof sagging, its rose window a spiderweb of shattered stained glass. A thin crescent moon poured pale light through those violet-and-gold shards, splintering into fractured prisms on the rotting stone steps. Your heart pounded so fiercely it drowned out distant sirens, each beat an urgent drum in your ears. Fingertips whitening, you gripped the rusted handle of your car door, knuckles flaking with rust. You didn’t believe in miracles—only proof.

The heavy oak doors moaned on ancient hinges as you shoved them open. A sliver of moonlight cut through the darkness, illuminating motes of dust drifting in the stagnant air like ghostly fireflies. You slipped inside and froze.

There they were: Stack—shirt torn away—his chest heaving with ragged, desperate breaths. Mary leaned over him, her skin a pale, luminous ivory; her slender fingers splayed across his collarbone, nails tipped crimson. She pressed her lips to the hollow of his neck, her tongue tracing a slick, scarlet ribbon that gleamed in the moonlight. His eyes—your eyes—burned with an unnatural, furious red, veins pulsing with dark hunger.

Your lungs locked. Leaning against a decaying pew, you tasted iron on your tongue—was it your blood, or the taint of betrayal? A wave of heat rolled through the ruined nave, thick with the scent of mildew and something far fouler. Every hair on your arms prickled as the grim communion played out before you.

He’d been turned. And he hadn’t told you. Worse still—he’d allowed her to do it.

Mary straightened, voice as smooth as spun silk sliding over a razor’s edge. “You taste better when you’re broken, baby,” she purred, trailing a ruby-stained fingertip across his quivering lips.

A low, guttural growl rumbled in Stack’s throat—once a sound that sent thrills skittering through you, now a jagged blade across your heart.

You must have gasped, because he whirled toward you, eyes blazing like liquid fire. Dark crimson stained the corners of his mouth. “Y/N—” His name ripped through the shadows, half curse, half plea. But you were already stepping back.

Smoke emerged at your elbow, coalescing from curling tendrils of shadow as if he’d been waiting in the darkness all along. His coat hung heavy around him, black as night; his face was calm, implacable, an anchor of iron in the storm. He was Stack’s darker half—nightfall and steel—yet the only one who still carried any light.

His sharp gaze flicked between you and the vampire embrace. “What the hell did you do, Stack?” he demanded.

Mary’s lips curled into a venomous smile. “He made his choice.”

Your voice trembled. “You let her turn you? Let her—touch you?”

Stack stepped toward you, fangs gleaming. Smoke’s hand shot out, firm on his shoulder, halting him. “Back off.”

Stack’s jaw worked, pain and defiance warring on his face. “You don’t get to stand between me and her.”

Smoke’s eyes narrowed to slits of burning coal. “You already stood between you and her the second you sold your soul for that blood.”

Mary sighed, exasperated. “Brothers and their theatrics.”

You watched them—two fractured reflections of the man you once loved, shattered beyond repair.

“I was going to tell you,” Stack croaked, voice ragged with remorse. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this—Mary, she—”

“You chose her,” you snapped, voice brittle. “You chose this.”

Your chest constricted as love and grief twisted inside you. Even now, watching him corrupted, you couldn’t extinguish the ember of feeling that still burned for him.

Smoke’s voice was a low command. “Come with me. Now.”

You hesitated, thumb brushing the cracked leather of your jacket, every fiber of you aching to turn back.

Stack took another step forward. “Please don’t go.”

You met that pleading, wild gaze and whispered, “You already did.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked away into the ink-black night, Smoke’s silhouette close at your side. Behind you, Stack’s anguished scream echoed through empty stone halls—a requiem for everything you’d lost.

⸻

I know you wanted smoke to find him with her in the beginning but I switched it up a bit, I hope you still like it. Let me know if you want a Part 2—maybe we could do Stack trying to win you back, maybe Smoke starts catching feelings for yyou, maybe you embrace your power and make them both pay. I’m here for all the drama.

⸻

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[oddballwriter]

bbq ena x introvert reader that is very open with her? Like awkward introvert reader that outwardly seems stoic but gets super silly round her cuz ena fucking rocks. Could be co worker even

DREAM BBQ ENA w/ an introvert reader who doesn’t talk to people except for her

Warnings: reader is an introvert and people keep trying to talk to them, ENA lowkey flirting with the reader sometimes

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Don't worry about having to talk to people, ENA does enough talking for the both of you. Her salesperson sidecalls you her "demonstrator/assistant" when showing off her myriads of little products that she's trying to sell to different people or her extra pair of hands since “team work exercises help enhance productivity”. That’s her way of saying that sometimes you help her when she gets stuck on things are is having a moment and needs to get back on track.

She still tries to get you to talk sometimes though but if it fails she will just excuse you and say that “client work is not in their quota today” and occasionally her meanie side flat out calls you “poor with words and not paid for chattering”

ENA appreciates that you feel comfortable enough with her to let your true self shine through since a lot of people don’t really feel or bother to form that connection with her. So when she learns that you goofing off with her and cracking jokes is because you feel comfortable and at ease with her, she’s over the moon and stars about it.

Her salesperson side is always willing to have “partake in workplace and water cooler humor and banter” with you, which is just her freely say all her stupid and ridiculous sales pitches which are clearly scams and prism schemes that she thinks you’ll find amusing. Her meanie side also makes fun of you in a more teasing way rather than her usual insulting manner that she has with other people. If you say something really dumb she says “What’s your head full of? Spare junk? If you got paid for thinking, we’d be piss poor.” while poking your head.

It’s kind of hard for others to tell that her meanie side is just messing with you because she sounds the exact same, but you can just sense the vibe of it from her.

Her meanie said also wards off anyone who’s looking at you for too long when you’re clearly trying to to avoid interacting by calling them out with megaphone and all. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, YOU CLAM HEAD? YOU GOT A STARING PROBLEM OR WHAT?”

Meanie is also your version of “They said ‘no pickles’!”

On the other hand, her salesperson, again, will gladly do all the “sales pitching” for the both of you and make sure that all your “work” goes appreciated by also giving you credit too for when a job is done.

“I couldn’t have done it without my faithful companion.”

“My assistant did most of the heavy lifting and being a highly profitable hand.”

She never really calls you her co-worker. Even with her meanie side she says “partner” and even “pal” or “friend”, completely removing professionalism and formally. When ENA says these, they sometimes even sound like more than just platonic too.

Her salesperson side can be a bit of a charmer, “as part of achieving higher likelihood of successfully locking in a sale”, but sometimes she puts it on for you when no one else is around or listening, like she’s willingly flirting with you. You can’t tell if she’s also just messing with you as part of your regular banter but you’d be lying if you said that she couldn’t charm you into doing something for her. She’s actually gotten quite close too. She made her idea of an mlm about t-shirts that say “little noodle” on them sound very appealing and fashionable.

Maybe she is flirting with you. You can’t really tell with how all over the place she is with her words

[limoncats]

I ADDED ANOTHER TO THE BUNCH THIS MONDAY!!! Jade my baby they could never make me hate you

the song with the poses for all the Z-moves popped up on my recommended and i decided to draw some Prismverse characters in some of the poses!!

all characters above by @kiraprismart

[opheliann-darling]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧.

Yandere Ryomen Sukuna x female reader.

Synopsis: As you awake from the nightdream of a family to the daymare of Sukuna's lap, you trudge on the road of being a beast's concubine.

TWs: Concubinage, Misogyny, War themes, forced pregnancy, violence and gore, Nudity, cannibalism.

enjoy.

Awake! awake! Oh, slumbering souls, Arise like him who rules the night and leads forth the stars with wails¹. From behind the twilight and under the veil of darkness, Shadows danced, performing a morbid parade of welcoming the New king- King of Curses, the strongest of his time. Fear glared through a prism; its darkest shades casting over a village, a village like any other, one that was ode to be remembered in a look at a Byōbu or to be perceived in a vivid painting within a historian's imagination, when an Era of a creature- a creature like none of the other, a beast whose tale would unfold through terrified tongues and jittery letters across the centuries. hopelessness washes your heart with grief and a sense of naught as it crosses your mind that you, once a farmer's daughter in a nameless year, will be weighed as one of the girls who were orphaned, captured, adorned and sprawled across the mattress of Ryomen Sukuna, no more than a concubine in tales of the past.

The darkest of nights, of no moon to pray to, or a glimpse of a star to weep for: the night the beast howled, rushing forth into the outskirts, loud cries reverberating into a thin air on light ears of which death was its plague of mind. in the far distance of your memory, you could still hear the drums, booming thunder loud, whipping its dimmest horrors at the strings of the faintest of hearts. Hell wasn't only of the imagination- thousand splendid suns of a single space burned in the horizon, the prime of Kagutsuchi² painted in living colors.

The heart is a heavy stone, for the weight of sorrows slumber in a deep corner and rest on the tender angle of its sinews, joys long banished to a cold rib. memories glint unwanted and unwelcomed: in a strike of lighting, long knives flashed and grinned in red, tearing flesh and crushing bone, their sharp tips spearing through eyes; gush of blood emerging from a scar of a socket. recalling it alone pricked needles on your skin, a bitter taste rising in the back of your throat. such macabreness used to be only present in your visualization of inferno, now a series of crimson images played themselves too hastily, their detail remained as ashes of a fire, laughing at your door and haunting you even in sleep. Judgment day cannot be in a shade of horror as what took place in your village: a limb of your brother was left discarded; seemingly his arm- undoubtedly, his fingers that once wiped your tears are now cosseting the pool of blood on earth. no traces of your father or mother, their absence from your sight and knowing not of their fate tore your heart with grief.

You - alongside many girls of the village - were taken as war trophies, not before tasting the raw humiliation of being violated and used by the swordsmen of the king- your friends and cousins, some of whose milk teeth are still in their mouths. your heart wept for them before your eyes, no amount of pleading would alter everything to ordinary, when poverty and hunger were graces when compared to a current degradation and sufferance. ropes burned your skin, boiled water beneath flaming your wrists and neck, the thick bundle of ties extended behind you, shackling all girls and women with its length in a way a great serpent swallows a nest of mice. The barks of swordsmen pierce the silence of the trek occasionally, harshly instructing the girls to remain quiet and continue walking as would a shepherd to cattle. the stench of vomit and blood coursed through your lungs, you struggled to adjust to the new air, a hammer of ache drumming through your skull, the roars of angry men landing sharp blows to your ears. the thorns of grass and soil pinched and wounded at your toes and heels; the straw sandals decaying with each step. Despair pooled at the lake of your heart: how long was hell's path³?

Dusk blazed scarlet, slowly metamorphosing to indigo with a sole star twinkling across the sky's page; it's getting dark and a camp had to be set. a girl rocked herself back and forth, shuddering and calling for a name, perhaps praying this was all a daymare to awaken from. a pregnant woman slouched on the cold earth, blue threads right under her eyelids, lips losing their drops of ichor. tears warmed your irises out of pity for her- unlike you, she won't see the dawn break, her babe following not long after, forced out of its mother's womb to be burnt with her, as the king of curses regarded little lives to be lower than dust. Now it crossed your mind that Lord Ryomen hasn't appeared yet- he's surely on cloud nine to grasp another village in his fist; your prayers to the moon to protect your farms from him fell on deaf ears, all is hopeless.

Speak of the devil and he doth appear. a blur of a foot knocked the wind out of your chest, the guard's voice boomed at you to bow to the ground, immediately obeying while pain throbbed at your ribs. for seeing is believing, you didn't have to look up to perceive his presence; you felt it like a blind man would feel the light. you dared not stare, stealing a glance from the fan of eyelashes to see a fragment of him sauntering in the front. As fast as forgetfulness brushes a mind, you come to realize what was about to happen: he'll check his fruit, dispose of some and leave some to devour. a sob nearly broke off your throat; the Shinigami was guarding your heel, waiting for a harvest for the night.

Death wore masks and laughed in many voices; gentle in seconds and somber in long times. you would solace yourself with the idea that a quick death is tenderer than a slow torment; drawing rose-colored glasses of both death and life- if you happened to be one of whose heads flew into the air, you would finally rest from an existence that merely recounted hell, hurt and hunger; yet if you lived to go through more miseries, you would dare not call it a heavenly mercy.

“Get up, woman.”

Ordered he, voice landing heavy on your ears, tar liquid spilling on your heart before your mind. snow melted through your limbs, little heart forgetting its own rhythm of beat as you raised yourself from the ground, cowering under his solid gaze. under a curtain of vision, through a corner of an eye, red painted everything, separate pieces of what used to be humans ornamented a pale canvas of soil.

“You shall be my concubine for the rest of your life”

For it is so appropriate to color monstrosities in red; the horizon swam in a crimson rinse, sun darkening to an austere cinnabar. you watched everything die on the skyline, a candle dwindling in an end of no sight, shyly blinking behind the mountains and forests. The carriage trailed across the hill for two days and a night, a time that flowed like ten months of starvation. now closer than ever to the myth of the King of curses- no longer just hearing of him, but now feeling him before seeing him: if terror manifested into flesh and bone, he'd be him. never you'd think that a smile can mortify more than a rage mien: his lips curved up, cooing violence while his eyes -four of them- twinkled gorily. in the dead of night, under the stars and through the murk, your flesh is ironed by kisses, flames that bloomed atop your face, lips, neck and spine, an arm clutching you in place, another cuffing your hands with ease, both of your small palms choked in his big hand; a third arm sneaked its digits on your clit, rubbing and abusing the petal flesh, jarring a wave of ache with each movement. drowning in his scent, his voice, deep and twisting the strings of your heart with his loud snickers at the shell of your ear; skin on yours, flaying the innocent memory of your limbs, tearing apart the fabric on your muscles with a dig of his nails. Your tears did anything short of balming your pain, and if they ever had any use, they only added more fuel to his fire. the fourth hand of his, now in your sight, scalped your head in a burning grip, his gist clear when the words struck a pang of despair.

“Kneel, concubine!”

You didn't even need to obey. As soon as the command was uttered, his fingers seized your hair and raised your weakling body onto your knees, giving you a taste of more pain before breaking the vase of your purity.

When the last star in the sky had vanished, you jolted awake for the tenth time during night, the smell of blood stenching still, this time your own between your thighs.

The old maid in the temple wore a blind eye. For days, she silently washed and scraped your body, the washcloth rough in her hands; water trickling down your hair, cascading down to your chest and waist, seeping across your thighs and legs. the images of your reflection in the water were shattered to thousands of frames, none of them resembling you.

a halo of moon crowned the heavens, even at dawn. In another life, around this time, your father would rise first, just when the rooster crows, then he is seconded by your mother and brother, and at last, you would get up. a feather of gray flicked your heart's veil, echoing journeys to fields and markets, humble supper and early bed. in a dying corridor of your anamnesis, your father's bon mot on how a satisfied sweeper was blessed more than an anxious affluent reverberated; his soul watching from above, whispering on your existence. Now that you're a part of Lord Ryomen- an extension of him, in the nature of a fifth arm or a shoe to foot⁴, you bathed more than you ate, you spread your legs more than you slumbered, altered to the shapes of his whims. When days are blessed, he cackles and cheers, thrilling in your small body as he takes you, sensation of dagger that saws through the tender flesh between your fingers, except it happened too close to where your heart and mind wept, cutting your youth to ribbons with each thrust. When the moon drowns, he'll return, vexed and voracious, a malodour of blood filling your nostrils as you crawl to him, enduring humiliations to ease his wrath.

The silk of the long Junihitoe extended like a page of water, thirteen layers like waves. the old dame's fingers danced across your face, smearing the tone of your skin with rice powder, stitching a bridal mask to be your face- the concubine's face. rouge of a ruby coloring your lips, melted sugar glittering in an obscenely innocent seduction, a rose on each cheek, powder of red. The woman in the glass is beautiful, a piece of moon even: lovely and lonesome. scents of jasmine and cherry blossom were rubbed on your face, neck, shoulders and bosom, as the maid's hands seemed to be more lively than her; they scoured and dallied and adorned and squeezed every inch of your posture. it comes to your mind, out of the blue, while sitting in Sukuna's lap, how would she appear as a sort of slaughterer: she drags your form, coaxes you to wear the silk as a skin, arrays you from head to toe and offers you on a platter for him, a lamb to wolf. At times, from the corner of your vision, you catch a curve of a smile on her face, marveling at the sight of scars and bruises, as well as the smell of seed on your body. Perhaps she herself took pleasure in witnessing the slow staining of chastity.

“Listen, dear” gently called she, not of her character (even if you knew nothing about her, you could tell that kindness wasn't a word in her book), her hands mooching wet on your breast. The lapping of water was louder than breathing, her hand drowning the washcloth in the bucket for the hundredth time.

You just sat in silence.

“You're not the first girl who warms Lord Sukuna's bed. there were many; many of girls before you, more than my wry fingers could count…”

Her hands stopped briefly, continuing when you gave no response.

“They were all just as beautiful as you, and as miserable as yourself. they cried and begged for mercy, but had none. some were really feisty, they dared to talk back and rebel… only to end up where the devil himself would weep if thrown into…”

It is just now that a zephyr blew through your nerves, a trace of goosebumps bloomed on your back, certainly not from your nudity, or how less loving was water you bathed with.

“... a poor maiden said a word- a little word, and her tongue was fed to the dogs… another bit his arm, her teeth were plucked one by one, as you would pick cherries from the trees… the poor soul, how wept she…”

An amphora of ink shattered between your ribs.

“...What still twists the sinews of my heart to this very moment, is when I remember a young woman- a princess as I dare say, pretty as Kaguya-Hime herself, she had the king's child in her stomach…”

Her silence was deep gray, yet she found a tongue to carry on.

“...She filled her head with roses, thinking about escaping and so did she… and in the blink of an eye, her flesh fell to pieces… so the babe in her womb… Lord Sukuna saw red and her death wasn't enough…he…”

Were you to weep for yourself, for your lost family, for the abandoned corpses of the girls from your village, for the past concubines who served him or for the old woman whose tears fell from her empty eyes?

a sob struck her old ribs, they could rive from the strength of it.

“... He… he forced me to cook her flesh myself … and I did… a flesh I spiced with my tears… he ate to his heart's content… and I chewed on her as well… everyone in this temple did… we were all starving… I can't live to see another demise…”

Your mother- you felt a fraction of her tenderness, as the old dame caressed your cheek.

“...Please… I'm tired of seeing flowers die… my heart cannot take any more pain… please… be a good girl… don't cross Lord Sukuna… bear him children… please him… try to love him- even if it was fake… spare another girl the pain you're living now…”

“I see it in your eyes that you're a kind soul with the gold of a heart... don't die…” the last word fell on your ears like a drop of dew on a leaf. her lips wobbled, helpless in a true color.

Heart, heart…you hated having a heart.

As ten full moons passed by, the feeling of his hands, the humps of his muscles and the size of him became a new memory. deep under your skin and atop of your red flesh, his touch was known to your body as your own name, a drop of his blood through your wounds, dwelling inside and wandering around to where every notion of life resided in you. The lineaments of his face are strangely familiar, no longer coursing its old atrocity through your soul. you burn the candles of thought as you lay next to him stripped, head on chest, of your existence as a plaything: surely you had the life of a princess you dreamt of, but at the cost of your feelings and dignity.

“My, your hands are such a wonder. my little concubine knows how to please her master”

Eyes glinting from above, he regarded you with a smile -never soft, predatory to say precisely- while you knelt in front of him, washing his feet in a basin and massaging them. you came to practice a so-called art of ‘coquetry’, or rather what would you think of as patting a beast's head so as to not be eaten by it. Sukuna's ego was something majestic, and majestic things had to be caressed and stroked. you gave a polite smile from beneath, saying nothing.

“You're quite the good girl, I'm glad that you learnt your place.” He leaned his face against one of his four fists, while another played with your hair.

"I'm glad to be in your service, my lord.” you said, a little lost in your task.

a short-lived silence stretched, before he praised again “You know, I've never been served by a girl whose as obedient and pretty as yourself, little girl, I like you”

Something twinged in the pit of your chest. your fingers went numb, mindlessly swimming in the water.

“Not only are you obedient, but sweet and tender. I trust that you'll be the best mother too, my heirs need a mother”

Knots wrapped themselves in your lungs. just how many women before you heard these words from him? is he lying- of course he's a liar, one his lies are masterfully hidden, you can't predict when he's telling the truth or manipulating you.

His hand snaked around your throat, moving then to cosset your clothed chest.

“a mother who'll piously carry them in her womb, let them suckle greedily from her breast, wash them and rock them in her bosom, teach them how to bow to their father…”

Your own face grew foreign to you; you couldn't feel it even if you tried to touch it. you didn't sense yourself, but another existence that sojourned far in. His digits spidered to your chin, holding your head up to look at him. his face was gravelly now- the amusement he wore a minute ago slipped to the ground.

“I expect you to raise this child well”

He knew, before you could.

Truth seemed way wilder than imagination. The feathery movements were as real as the sky, a clot of blood that connected itself to the warmth of your guts. you would stare at your form in the mirror, searching for whatever change appeared during long months, leisurely, your own eyes would betray you and the metamorphosis of your body would happen regardless of what you'd seen: a small bubble that wasn't visible under your kimonos, then a light mound, to a clear swelling and to a heavy node. The heavy rock of a weight above your pelvis was anything short of normalcy: seven months, you assumed, vigorous at night and still at day. your hands fondled your large bump, seeping in the sensation of something that is tethered to you yet not a part of you. you wondered if your baby can hear your trail of thought- would your future son or daughter carve a memory of you being unloving to them? or to carry down your shame on their flesh, ironing your mayhem on their skin. much worse: were they destined to be like their father? a joint of a human beast and a helpless doll, a new mantra of cruelty and violence. Sukuna already mentioned that if the child was to be a male, he'll raise it himself to heights of power and ruthlessness.

“You'll just have to give birth and breastfeed, woman. if you ruin my heir with your softness, I'll tear you to shreds and gorge your flesh” Seeing your terror was his ultimate joy; even when you're overweight with another human inside of you, he still took pleasure in ravishing you. Moving around and rushing back and forth on roads and fields swiftly was a talent you mastered, now your arms grew iron heavy and legs raw, immobilized and in need of help when bathing or in want of support when walking. your breasts had their fair share of dilatation as well, leaking milk and burning from the least touch. silent tears cascaded down your cheeks: what happened to the maiden who careened through meadows and danced in orchards? When did the curves of a body melt and pour into a swell of a shape ? How did the fabric of a flesh distort into scars and marks? She's never again a Lily; a deflowered chrysanthemum.

a Blood moon crested above, stars were nowhere to be seen in a dark layer of heaven. a winter's wind blew outside, howling and whipping the trees. your eyes beheld the crimson orb in the sky, deciphering an expression or a voice in hopes for a last chance for survival: you prayed for your death, for your soul to be given to the creature that was about to emerge from your flesh. a pinch atop of your ribs throbbed, striking a cord for your voice to tear the silence of the night in a low cry. a fire foamed across your back and shot to your abdomen, all colors and shapes of pain, from a pallid ache to pure agony, cleaved your stomach open. the anguish ceased when the shy sun poured white rays through, the scream of your infant caroled the morn; it was a baby boy.

"Well done, my little concubine!” He held the tiny human up in the air, its sole existence eliciting his pride and joy, a reminder that you went to a limit no other woman before you reached: winning the motto of the Queen of curses. For the first time ever, Sukuna called your name, praising you yet again with a dose of honor that will never live for too long.

“I knew that you were a good girl who loves me, and I adore you for that. from now on, you'll remain by my side to your last breath, as now I announce you my wife”

Your lips sewed themselves together, frowning not nor curving up and unable to snivel or rejoice.

The far prime of the sky burned with red, swallowing the sun in a slow fade from yellow to scarlet. you watched it with great attention, nursing the bundle of your child in your lap. you glanced at your little one's face: he stared at you in a meek confusion of innocence, taking your nipple in his lips. Soon enough, Sukuna would be back to see you, cradling the heir like a good mother and attending to the father like a good wife. Was a shallow living more merciful and a lively death? you don't know. a fragment of your old self still lulled from the back of your head, singing your life into thousands of sunsets, hoping to be remembered.

¹ : a resference to one of Omar Khayyam's rubáiyát, with the original stanza of the poem saying : Awake! awake! Oh, slumbering souls,Arise like him who rules the morn and leads forth the stars with song.

² : The deity of fire in Japanese mythology.

³ : Reference to Dante's Inferno.

⁴ : Allusion to Silivia Plath's poem 'Daddy'.

[x-i-l-verify]

Okay Linked Universe Fandom, we have to talk. I am extremely disappointed in all of us that out of all the myriad possible duos of the Chain, only one has an official name (Downfall Duo). This has got to change. We need more duo names stat. So, this is my proposed list! Hopefully at least some of them catch on. 👀 Many thanks to @kuraiarcoiris for assisting me with some of the uncooperative duos on the list. >.> Looking at you, Warriors and Wind.

Without further ado!

Sky

Sky+Four: Horizon Duo (because they are the first two Links chronologically in the timeline, charting new horizons for the young kingdom of Hyrule, and because I view the two as representing the sky and the world [e.g. Four’s element motif]. And where do the sky and world meet? The horizon.)

Sky+Time: Wife Duo (because they both canonically love their wives and miss them. Sky isn’t married to Sun yet, but he will be, so it counts. >:V)

Sky+Legend: Harp Duo (because they both canonically play magic harps and enjoy music)

Sky+Hyrule: Thunder Duo (because of their abilities to channel lightning and the fact that Hyrlule’s spell is called Thunder. Also two of the quietist Links having a duo named after a loud sound is amusing)

Sky+Twilight: Firmament Duo (because “firmament” another word for the physical sky, and also sounds like “firm,” and both characters are good grounding forces for the other Links.)

Sky+Warriors: Knight Duo (because they actually remember their training as knights and can apply that training. Plus, both are knights in shining armor for their Zeldas.)

Sky+Wind: Breeze Duo (because flying and sailing both use air currents, and breezes are heartening and encouraging, just like these two.)

Sky+Wild: Aeon Duo (because “aeon” means "a long or seemingly long period of time" and these two are the Links that had to wait the longest amount of time to complete their quests.)

-

Four

Four+Sky: Horizon Duo

Four+Time: Shade Duo (because they are possibly the only two Links that lingered after their deaths, Time with the Hero’s Shade in Twilight Princess and Four with the four Shadow Links that appear in the Palace of the Four Sword in A Link to the Past [though one could theorize that those are Dark Links unrelated to Four entirely, so this duo name could also refer to Shadow from the Four Swords manga])

Four+Legend: Forging Duo (because not only do they have blacksmithing skills, but both forge the way for the heroes who come after them to the best of their abilities.)

Four+Hyrule: Mousetrap Duo (because they can both shrink to the size of mice, Four with his Minish form and Hyrule with his Fairy spell)

Four+Twilight: Prism Duo (because light is very important to both of their games [Twilight’s light spirits and Four’s Light Force], but also their mechanics allow them to “split” and show another side of them like light through a prism, i.e. Four's ability to divide into four and Twilght’s crystal that lets him become a wolf)

Four+Warriors: Teamwork Duo (because their games center on teamwork more than any of the others')

Four+Wind: Shield Duo (because of their identical shields that signifies a possible blood connection between them)

Four+Wild: Shattered Duo (because they both break or "shatter" things in order to fight. Four breaks himself through his splitting mechanic, and Wild breaks his weapons. You could also interpret this as Wild's memories being broken, too.)

-

Time

Time+Sky: Wife Duo

Time+Four: Shade Duo

Time+Legend: Melodic Duo (because their games focus so much on music)

Time+Hyrule: Fairy Duo (because of their connection to fairies)

Time+Twilight: Legacy Duo (self-explanatory)

Time+Warriors: Command Duo (because leader and his unofficial second in command)

Time+Wind: Menace Duo (because these two absolutely will be menaces together once Time relaxes a bit.)

Time+Wild: Moon Duo (because of the focus on the moon in their games. “I Hate the Moon” Duo doesn’t have the same ring to it :p)

-

Legend

Legend+Sky: Harp Duo

Legend+Four: Forging Duo

Legend+Time: Melodic Duo

Legend+Hyrule: Downfall Duo (basically codified fanon at this point)

Legend+Twilight: Critter Duo (because they are currently the only two Links with animal forms)

Legend+Warriors: Worsties Duo (or just "the Worsties." Self-explanatory :3c)

Legend+Wind:Seagull Duo (because Aryll loves seagulls and Marin loved seagulls.)

Legend+Wild: Stockpile Duo (Because they’re obsessive about being prepared, so they stockpile things more than anyone else in the whole Chain.)

-

Hyrule

Hyrule+Sky: Thunder Duo

Hyrule+Four: Mousetrap Duo

Hyrule+Time: Fairy Duo

Hyrule+Legend: Downfall Duo

Hyrule+Twilight: Rustic Duo (because they both come from very humble origins. Most of the Links come from pretty humble origins, but I get the feeling those two are Country Boys if you know what I mean. ;))

Hyrule+Warriors:Firestorm Duo (because of Warriors' penchant for using fire in battle and Hyrule's thunder spell)

Hyrule+Wind: Salvage Duo (because both have had to salvage their kingdoms from their destroyed states and salvage important items from where they were scattered around their worlds)

Hyrule+Wild:Wander Duo (because they both are the most adventurous Links and tend to go off the beaten path more than any of the others)

-

Twilight

Twilight+Sky: Firmament Duo

Twilight+Four: Prism Duo

Twilight+Time: Legacy Duo

Twilight+Legend: Critter Duo

Twilight+Hyrule: Rustic Duo

Twilight+Warriors: Big Brother Duo (because they are the big brothers of the Chain)

Twilight+Wind: Successor Duo (because they are Time’s direct successors that are actually acknowledged as such in their games and in the comic)

Twilight+Wild: Protégé Duo (because Twilight is Time's protege and Wild is Twilight's)

-

Warriors

Warriors+Sky: Knight Duo

Warriors+Four: Teamwork Duo

Warriors+Time: Command Duo

Warriors+Legend: Worsties Duo

Warriors+Hyrule: Firestorm Duo

Warriors+Twilight: Big Brother Duo

Warriors+Wind: Scarf Duo (because there have been a few panels where Wind steals or hides under Warriors’ scarf)

Warriors+Wild: Arson Duo (because of that one sketch where the two are riding on a log burning everything down around them, and they clearly enjoy setting things on fire)

-

Wind

Wind+Sky: Breeze Duo

Wind+Four:Shield Duo

Wind+Time: Menace Duo

Wind+Legend:Seagull Duo

Wind+Hyrule: Salvage Duo

Wind+Twilight: Successor Duo

Wind+Warriors: Scarf Duo

Wind+Wild: Walkie Talkie Duo (because Wind's joy pendant allows him to talk to Wild through his Shiekah slate)

-

Wild

Wild+Sky: Aeon duo

Wild+Four:Shattered Duo

Wild+Time: Moon Duo

Wild+Legend: Stockpile Duo

Wild+Hyrule:Wander Duo

Wild+Twilight: Protégé Duo

Wild+Warriors: Arson Duo

Wild+Wind:Walkie Talkie Duo

-

A few trios for good measure!

Wind + Wars + Time = Eras Trio

Wars + Sky + Wild = Chivalry Trio

Wind + Wild + Hyrule = Apocalypse Trio

Hyrule + Legend + Wild = Triple Threat

Warriors + Twilight + Sky = Big Bro Trio

[pokemonheritageposts]

If you're still ranking pokemon tcg art, could you do darkrai?

decided gen 4 was due a turn next and skimmed through all the gen 4 requests i've had, decided to pick whichever mon had my favourite cards.

it wasn't even close. darkrai has some MAGNIFICENT cards oh my god

FULL TCG RANKINGS MASTERPOST

10. Umbreon & Darkrai GX (illus. Mitsuhiro Arita, Sun & Moon - Unified Minds 125/236)

9. Darkrai (illus. 5ban Graphics, Black & White Promo #73)

8. Darkrai (illus. Naoki Saitou, Sun & Moon - Ultra Prism 77/156)

7. Darkrai (illus. nagimiso, Sword & Shield - Darkness Ablaze 105/189)

6. Darkrai (illus. kawayoo, X & Y Promo #114)

5. Umbreon & Darkrai GX (illus. so-taro, Sun & Moon Promo #241)

4. Darkrai (illus. Uta, Sword & Shield - Fusion Strike 167/264)

3. Darkrai VSTAR (illus. Poni Kobayashi, Crown Zenith GG50/GG70)

2. Darkrai EX (illus. Oswaldo KATO, Pokemon TCG Pocket - Spacetime Smackdown 202/155)

1. Darkrai & Cresselia Legend (illus. Shinji Higuchi & Noriko Takaya, HS Triumphant 99 & 100/102)

[vitaminseetarot]

Pick-a-Carp: REM - Random Emerging Messages (From Your Dreams) 🐠🌑🔮

*･ﾟ✧Masterlist | *･ﾟ✧Ko-Fi

Sup y'all, it's time for another pick a card reading! I have always enjoyed dream interpretation, long before I discovered tarot. Amazing insights and revelations have come through by understanding dreams, at times being more predictive than waking signs. Although it can be hard to be really into dream interpretation when I can't remember most of mine upon waking. 😅

So for this Pisces New Moon, this reading will look into what kind of dreams you may be having and the messages they're trying to tell you. We have many dreams at night we don't remember, so this reading will take a deep dive into those hazier ones into account as well as the more significant dreams. Pick any one of the three beautiful koi fish varieties:

1 - Asagi - Blue/Silver 💙 2 - Showa - Black/White 🖤 3 - Utsuri - Orange/Black 🧡

Pile 1 - Asagi 💙

4 of Cups, Queen of Swords, XVII Star, 10 of Pentacles; Full Moon Sagittarius, 3 of Prisms, 3. In the Light of the Moon, Spider, Self-Care

Hi pile 1,

Your dreams focus mainly on the past. You may be having rather realistic dreams of situations that have already happened. There is a skeleton key present in these dreams in order to unlock a passage. This dream must be processed to clear old stuck energy that's keeping the conscious mind tied back. It may require seeing things from a different angle or point of view, or looking at the dream in a new light. This dream may be annoyingly repetitive but it's not without purpose. The message is relentless for you to receive it, so it uses the same dream or similar set-up to stay direct. Like solving a long tricky math problem on a practice test.

This dream may likely involve family members or close friend groups. You may relive confrontations you've had with them previously, or dream that you're getting into conflict with those you are otherwise on good terms with. You may get emotionally meshed with others' energies which appear in your dreams as a bigger tide in your imagery (they may even appear taller in dreams). It's important to apply clear judgement when it comes to these scenarios. Having a bad dream where a good friend cheats or fights with you is trying to help you understand how your emotions contribute to relationships; it's not a reflection of the actual state of the relationship. So this friend may be testing boundaries from within the safe confines of your dreams so you can figure out how to respond to such situations. In waking life, pile 1, you may need to review how you see your individual self as distinct from your community. Your dreams want you to center and reclaim your mind and boundaries so these scenarios can't phase you or your future decisions, because no, it doesn't have to happen like last time.

Your dreams show you are a caring person with great regard for your community's well being. With Spider, I think of the web, so this could be an online community or just one that feels tied together as a unit. This could also represent a large work environment where you collaborate with many people. Despite this, the Spider is largely an solitary being. These dreams could have people trying to call you, or talk to you, even if you're not able to hear what they're saying. Your reverie is swimming with their collective energy, but in doing so is also asking you to instead look towards yourself for insight. Let's say you have a reoccurring dream where a love interest keeps blasting your phone but for some reason you can't answer it, or the phone dies as you answer it. Consider what you would want the person on the other line to say ("I think you're really cute"), then ask if these are affirmations you can give to yourself now ("I think I'm really cute"). The Star card says you can provide yourself with the positive feeling you may be seeking in your dreams. They're wanting you to come back to yourself and stand on your own two fins--er, feet.

Dream Symbols: Outer Space, Light, Family Gatherings, Foreign Lands or Languages, Clothing, Groups of 3 or the Number 3

Pile 2 - Showa 🖤

6 of Wands, X Wheel of Fortune, 8 of Wands, Ace of Pentacles; Void-of-Course Moon, 5 of Relics, 42. Gentle Moderation, Butterfly, Take Charge

Hey pile 2!

Regular, practical matters seem to be the main concern here. This could be your physical body, housing, work, or your finances. The symbols in your dreams represent everyday worries like running errands. However, the dreams that start out as casual can quickly become unstable or chaotic. Grand plans like an expensive flight could be made only to suddenly cancel, or you may have dreams of getting lost and struggling to find directions only for the scenery to constantly morph itself around. Each scene may wildly change the circumstances and elevate activity in sleep. Emphasis is placed here on releasing your worries. Occasionally, they may be pointing out certain stressors or physical issues in the body. Overall, there is a need to take control of your circumstances as the captain of your ship, and you may find that with more time and awareness, you can tap into lucid dreams.

Out of all piles, your dreams likely make the least amount of sense. It could involve a lot of sudden frenzy or inexplicable changes, like seeing strangers turn into floating pumpkins or going to a doctor's clinic only to find that you are the doctor. I feel this is because you normally have your head on your shoulders in your waking life, and you may come across to others as steady and dependable. So when things go awry in sleep, these elements force you out of your comfort zone to showcase how you would react to a variety of scenarios. Many of these dreams come as a direct result of an every day worry and can be interpreted in a straight forward way, despite the seeming randomness. Going to the library to drop off a book that turns to glittery bats when you pull it out of your bag, for example, may simply be reminding you of a library book that's actually due.

You have the 6 of Wands, here, so it looks as though the events your dreams are based from largely resolve themselves even if it can stir you up in your sleep. Many of these things are fated to happen anyway, so there's no need to fret about them, and in fact worrying and overthinking may make the situation worse. So if you have an embarrassing dream about a job interview, it could be a reminder to practice answering questions beforehand. There's a good chance you will still do well at the interview as your dreams are helping you to see that you can handle any sudden disruption in plans and see your goals through. The caterpillar is destined to change into a butterfly no matter what, so it's okay if it has dreams that the cocoon string doesn't come out right or the wings look strange. It's all part of adjusting to big changes in life. The important thing is to not rush into doing something out of worry and to work at a steady pace. Remember that no matter how weird or utterly out there your dreams get, you're at the helm and with practice, you can decide how the dream ends.

Dream Symbols: Theater, Driving, Shapeshifting, Magic Wands, Flight, Maps or Compasses

Pile 3 - Utsuri 🧡 (cw blood imagery & brief mention of trauma)

V Hierophant, 10 of Swords, 9 of Wands, 9 of Swords; Full Moon in Cancer, 2 of Prisms, 41. Convey Your Meaning, Crystal, Eternity

Hello, pile 3.

I see the main theme in your sleep could involve reconciliation with a loved one. You may have a lot of one-on-one dreams involving confrontations and heated discussions. There could be a lot of miscommunication, a struggle to speak, or an inability to get one's point across in the dream. Words which ache inside your throat in waking life can finally burst within your dreams, words which you may have held onto for perhaps years. Your dreams are a place to bring out and vent what is difficult or even impossible to manage while awake. Your mind is seeking to let go of a major issue to achieve peace. If these really are words you wish to let out, I recommend both a dream journal to document what's being said along with a regular journal to help you air out things that will otherwise filter into your sleep.

For a few of you, the dreams may recall a painful encounter or event in the past, which can feel mocking when it comes back around, as though it can disappear for a long while only to suddenly reappear at the most unusual time. Let's say the trauma involved a bicycle accident: the accident may appear in different forms, like the bike turning into a helicopter, but with the same emotional response. You may think, "that was almost a decade ago, why am I still dreaming about this?" This is due to having a more emotionally detached state while in the dream world, allowing a more introspective consciousness to come through. Ultimately, with the 10 of Swords, it's helping you process it through so it doesn't overwhelm you while you're living your life. Your mind is slowly healing itself by "analyzing" these dreams like an audience member watching a movie to help you feel safe in your skin upon waking.

You may feel interested in checking out pile 1 too because I also see repetitive dreams in here. Only in this case it may not always be a dream based exactly on reliving a memory, but rather different scenes that involve the same core lesson or emotion in every one. You may even have a sequential dream that ends and restarts itself like a chapter in a book, or experience nested dreams in which you wake up to the alarm only to still be dreaming, which could create déjà vu. This is to help you gradually learn from past turmoils and errors while freely letting go of past hangups. Your dreams do not show you these visions to scare or frustrate you, but to build the pieces together to create a more unified psyche. They're breaking up old crystallized patterns of thought so the shadow isn't lurking over you like the volcano in the 9 of Wands. It's building the new staircase to your personal freedom by allowing you the opportunity to rewrite the scenario as you see fit. How different would the same dream feel with just one little detail rearranged? Try to imagine how it would feel if the bicycle turned into a Pegasus and allowed you to soar high.

Dream Symbols: Warm Tones, School, House, Library, Spirals, Gates

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2025, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[docboom]

My official Space Riders ocs!

Name: Vixen Snowfrost Species based on design: Arctic Fox Gender: Female Bio: Vixen Snowfrost is an heiress to her kingdom. The planet is mostly winter all year round and it rarely gets spring, summer and fall. She has ice powers or cryokinesis which is a rare gift among her people. Some say that her great 5x grandmother was the first welder of the ice. Team name/Role: Team Aurora (captain) Home Planet: Planet Name: Cryovelle Type: Ice Planet Environment: Cryovelle is a vast, glacial world of shimmering frost plains, towering crystal spires, and dancing auroras that stretch across its skies every night. The planet’s surface is layered with ancient ice sheets, some of which sing with resonant vibrations when struck—believed to be remnants of a lost civilization buried beneath. The atmosphere is cold but breathable, and light from Cryovelle’s twin moons refracts through the ice, giving the world a dreamlike, prismatic glow. Inhabitants: Cryovelle is home to the Frostren, a graceful, resilient species of arctic animal-folk like Vixen. They're known for their natural affinity for cryomancy (ice magic), and most undergo sword training from a young age to honor the tradition of the Glacier Sentinels—elite protectors of the realm. Culture: Honor, precision, and serenity are core values. Ritual duels in aurora-lit amphitheaters are both a martial test and a spiritual rite. Captains like Vixen are seen as both warriors and wisdom-keepers. Notable Landmarks: The Crystal Hollow – A massive frozen cavern where the planet’s energy is strongest; many Frostren journey here to awaken their elemental abilities. The Mirror Spire – A tower of reflective ice used for celestial navigation and meditation. Auroracrest Citadel – A snowy stronghold perched on a cliff that serves as Cryovelle’s capital and training ground for swordmasters.

Name: Midnight Star Home Planet: Crystallara Species based on design: Night Light dragon (HTTYD) Gender: Female Bio: Midnight Star is the youngest of her family in a crystallized-like home. Role: Team Medic/Scout Planet Name: Crystallara Type: Luminous Crystal World Environment: Crystallara is a breathtaking world of jagged gemlike mountain ranges, glowing caves, and skies scattered with floating crystal islands. The entire surface sparkles under a twilight sky that never fully brightens or darkens, casting an eternal dusk across the land. Bioluminescent flora grows along the edges of crystalline lakes, and glowing star-motes drift gently in the air, attracted to emotional energy. The world pulses with quiet, magical harmony—especially potent at night. Inhabitants: The Lunari, a rare race of sleek, light-sensitive dragon-like beings with smooth, crystalline scales, call Crystallara home. Midnight Star, being a Night Light-inspired dragon, is one of them. The Lunari are deeply connected to the magical ley-lines of the planet, allowing them to draw on starlight and crystal energy for flight, stealth, and beam-based powers. Young Lunari, like Midnight Star, are nurtured in family clusters that live in glittering, cave-like sanctuaries, grown organically from the planet’s living crystal. Culture: Crystallara’s society reveres light balance—the interplay between shadow and glow. Lunari raise their young in protective, radiant caverns where each crystal "sings" with the ambient feelings of those nearby. Emotions subtly influence the environment, so meditation and harmony are key cultural values. Notable Landmarks: The Prism Vale – A vast crystalline forest where young dragons learn to fly, hide, and connect with the planet's energies. The Shardspire – A towering monolith said to amplify the thoughts of those who perch at its peak under the starlit sky. Lumenheart Caverns – Midnight Star’s home, a family dwelling carved deep into a glowing crystal formation that hums with warmth and light.

Name: Kitty Softclaws and Obsidian Paws Relation: Sisters (Obsidian has two tails. It's a genetic mutation and based on a cat yokai) Home Planet: Nekoroku Species based on: Tuxedo Cat Breed Gender: Female Bio: Both Kitty and Obsidian are twins and are very skilled Roles: Kitty Softclaws – Scout & Spy Obsidian Paws – Chef & Info-Gatherer Planet Name: Nekoroku Type: Hidden, Forested Feudal World Environment: Nekoroku is a secretive, mist-shrouded planet where lush bamboo forests, cherry blossom groves, and sacred mountains dominate the terrain. The land is divided into ancient territories governed by noble clans of feline beings, with each region preserving traditions passed down for centuries. The skies are often clouded by rolling mists, giving the world an ethereal, dreamlike quality. Massive koi ponds, stone bridges, and glowing lantern paths connect hidden villages and floating shrines tucked into the landscape. Technology exists, but it’s disguised as ancient magic or “spiritcraft,” blending seamlessly with the cultural setting. Inhabitants: The Nekomura, an intelligent species of catfolk resembling elegant breeds like tuxedo cats, are renowned for their agility, sharp wit, and mastery of stealth, culinary arts, and information flow. They dress in flowing space-kimonos embroidered with clan symbols and woven with reactive fabrics that shimmer or cloak depending on light. Kitty Softclaws and Obsidian Paws come from the Yoru Clan, known for its specialization in espionage, shadow travel, and silent communication. Culture: Nekoroku values balance: between action and observation, flavor and discipline, tradition and adaptation. Cooking is a spiritual practice—believed to align one’s chi with the universe. Information is treated like gold, and those who can gather it without being seen or heard are highly respected. The society operates under the Veil Pact, an agreement among the clans to keep their world’s location hidden from the galaxy at large—known only to those born under the Five Moons of Nekoroku. Notable Landmarks: The Whispering Grove – A sacred forest where sound vanishes, used for training elite spies. Moonclaw Market – An underground, ever-shifting network of food stalls and informants; Obsidian Paws knows every secret recipe and back alley. The Hidden Pagoda – A teleporting castle that phases in and out of the material plane, said to appear only to those pure of purpose or skilled in shadow arts. Shadow Petal School - Where spies learn to glide silently through bamboo corridors and vanish with a single leap. Kitsu Broth Temple - Where recipes are encoded with secret messages and herbs act as memory enhancers. The tea and meals aren’t just food—they’re layered with coded knowledge, emotional calibration, and mild truth serum (for enemies, of course).

Space Riders Belongs to @onyxonline

[thesirencult]

PAC READING: CHRISTMAS WISHES FROM YOUR FS

PILE 1

Your FS is going through a "10 Of Swords" moment. They have been blinded from the truth. Her light is stronger than any illusion's. You are part of this truth. You and this person share a very special soul bond. Your lives' are parallel to eachother, a thin thread connecting the dots until the moment you meet.

"Keep your map close to your chest darling.

Not many people will understand the journey you are embarking on. I do. I want you to know that I wish that all wishes come true the next year. I'm kinda hopping one of them involves me ; )

I wish you get to heal. I wish the sun is warming up your skin and your eyes are shining with hope. I wish I was there to hold your hand. We could embrace eachother under the sun.

You are my sun.

My Sun. Take the chance and that leap of faith. It will bring you closer to happiness and to me. There are times the most illogical choice and the most risky one leads us to success. The paradox of risk.

I wish you keep the flame in your heart alight and your optimism helps you rise above every single. I wish you find love and guidance within your soul.

Goodbye, for now, my Sun and Merry Christmas <3"

PILE 2

Your person is not happy. They are far away from you but energetically they can feel that you are struggling. Your person is very spiritual and they want you to hold on for a tiny bit longer. They might be older than you. When you meet they will take on the role of a mentor. They see you, the real you and they want to help this diamond form under pressure.

Your FS is very calm, cool and collected. They know what they want. Your message is more heav,y but I know, deep in my heart, that you are telepathetically connected and they constantly send you messages, especially through songs and quotes you stumble upon.

"I wish you could see yourself from my POV. The amazing, beautiful, strong soul that you are. I wish you could look at life through a different prism. I want you to take the reigns and show everyone who you are. I wish you find the strength to own your beauty.

Your energy is mesmerizing. Like a cold night under the full moon and a wolf howling in the background. Hecate.

Choose sovereignty. Choose yourself baby. You're not unlucky. Your time just hasn't come yet.

I want you to push one last time baby. Do it for me. I'm sorry I'm not there to wish you "Happy Christmas".

I wish you manifest your dreams,I wish you dare to invest in your future, in our future without thinking you don't deserve it.

You have more options than you think. Don't make any bad choice you will regret later.

I love you baby. I want you to be healthy and strong."

PILE 3

Your FS is very "hungry" for you. They want you to let them take control. They are more possessive and obsessive than you would expect. They show their emotions through touch and on the bed.

They are daring and won't mind to show that you are theirs to everyone. Your FS knows taht you have big goals and they want you to know that in the future you will achieve all your dreams.

They are pretty succesfull themselves and they want you to get that bag and level up. They love material things and they invest in their future. You would meet in an environment supporting your level up (gym, career day, course, seminar etc.).

"My lovey dovey Sweetheart,

I wish you indulge this season. I wish you let your hair down for a while. When you are mine I will help you calm down. I will take the burdens off of your shoulders and tie your hands. Merry Christmas my lovely baby. I wish this time next year we are together, driving around in our luxury vehicles.

Let me dominate you. Let me take control. I will wrap satin sheets around you and carry you to the bathroom. A bathtub full of rose petals. Champagne for you my love. Sit on my face.

I wish you achieve all your goals. I wish you get your dream car, you bossy little lady. I will hold your hand through everything. I'll be by your side on long nights and I will proudly parade you around and show you off to everyone. I want them to know that the most accomplished person is mine.

You are mine. Mine. Mine.

Always yours, your FS."

[thesobsister]

Nico, The Marble Index

If all you know of Christa "Nico" Päffgen's music are her vocals for that iconic first VU album, this, the first of what has come to be seen as her trilogy (Marble Index / Desertshore / The End…), may help refine your view of her talent and accomplishments (album lyrics here).

When one thinks that she wrote and recorded these—with the collaboration of old bandmate John Cale, who brought his arranging, composing, and recording nous to work with her sound and vision—in 1968, not 1988, it's quite remarkable as a sui generis piece of individual genius and as the forgotten progenitor of much of what would become goth, darkwave/cold wave, and the like.

Some background via Wikipedia: "The American singer Jim Morrison, whom Nico later called her 'soul brother', encouraged her to write her own songs; this was 'a key breakthrough' for her. They were together in California in July and August 1967, often driving into the desert and experimenting with peyote. Morrison, who encouraged Nico to write down her dreams, read the writings of Mary Shelley, William Blake and Samuel Taylor Coleridge to her. He recorded his chemical visions and dreams, using the material for his songs as he imagined the opium-addicted Coleridge had worked. In 1986 Nico said, 'He taught me to write songs. I never thought that I could … He really inspired me a lot. It was like looking in a mirror then.' She began writing material and performing it to an intimate audience at Steve Paul's club, the Scene. Nico composed her music on a harmonium bought, according to Richard Witts, from a San Francisco hippie. Her manager, Danny Fields, said that she may have acquired it through the Canadian singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen. The harmonium became her trademark with which 'she discovered not only her own artistic voice but a whole new realm of sound'."

(more details on the inspired/troubled Morrison-Nico relationship here)

She dipped into Wordsworth, one of her favorites, and his magnum opus, The Prelude (the 1850 posthumous, final version), for her album's title:

And from my pillow, looking forth by light Of moon or favouring stars, I could behold The antechapel where the statue stood Of Newton with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind for ever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.

[halfway-happyyy]

another soft journey awaits us, friends.

lately i've been thinking a bit about what the first time frank tells you he needs you in his life looks like. let's explore it together 💖

five am sunlight peeks through a crack in your curtains and casts a brilliant prism of light across your lovers' toned chest. he had pulled himself from you so recently that his sweat still has yet to cool on your skin, and you're amused to find that you miss the all-encompassing fullness of him almost instantly. as you watch the measured rise and fall of his chest, it occurs to you that your relationship with mornings has become much more complicated since he's become a part of your life.

emerging an hour later from the humid warmth of your shower, you're surprised to find frank still in bed. normally, by this time, he'd already be dressed and lacing up his boots to go, never really in the habit of telling you when he'll be back. kind of coming in and out of your realm like a ghost.

"you alright, frank?" you ask.

he shucks the covers off and swings his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly down against the hardwood flooring.

"c'mere kid, there's something i need to tell ya."

his voice, all cut glass and gravel, beckons you forth and you do as you're told. instinctually, your hand travels to his forehead to check if he's ill, but the warmth there is most definitely a by-product of the love he made to you less than an hour before, and not the flu.

your palm moves to caress his stubbled cheek, and he tilts his head to press a kiss to it.

"what is it, frank?"

he swallows hard, gazes up at you and says, "i need you, kid."

it's an entirely different i need you than the one he whispers when he's buried to the hilt inside of you, fingernails carving miniscule half-moon crescents in the soft skin of your hips. this i need you comes from a place entirely different than anything you've ever known.

"you have me, frank." and it's the truth. you take whatever you can get from him when he can give it to you because there is no one on earth that could ever compare to him. you had known from the moment he became a semi-permanent fixture in your life that your dalliance with him was never going to be an easy one. how could it, given how much he had been through?

"you have all of me."

he clears his throat, and it becomes apparent that this is land neither of you have traversed yet.

"look kid, i can't pinpoint when it hit me exactly, but i don't really wanna do this thing without you anymore, and it feels so fucking selfish because of what i do but i just..." his voice trails off. "if you'll have me, i think i've got it in me to give this thing a real shot."

except for the sounds of the city coming to life around you, your room is silent. taking a seat beside him, you reach for his hand, which he offers up without protest.

"'course i'll have you frank."

for now, and despite everything, it's as simple as that.

[suguwu]

moon eater I four

"But truly, Master Diluc—why am I here?"

"I would wed you," he says, flexing his hands in his lap. "If you are amenable to it."

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

masterlist

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x f!reader

notes: thank you to everyone who sponsored this fic for fics for gaza's initiative! i appreciate it more than i could ever say. enjoy the chapter!

content: marriage of convenience, politics, some manipulation, pining, jealousy.

wc: 4.5k

The afternoon lengthens. The sun’s rays stretch across the vastness of the Dandelion Sea, bathing the fields in light, catching in the crystalline fluff of each flower, nature’s finest prism. Diluc watches as you kneel among them, carefully plucking a few flowers that haven’t yet faded into fluffballs. Their blossoms shine golden in your hands, little suns fallen from the sky. You gather them gracefully, piling them up in the cradle of your arms. 

He’s not sure what you’re doing; you haven’t bothered to inform him. Still, he’s content enough to watch you work. There’s something hypnotizing about the way your hands move, slipping through stems to pinch the blooms off with deft surety.

(The riverbank was muddy. The water swelled at its edges, cold and clear. Diluc saw the shadows of fish just beneath the surface, their fins swaying gracefully with the current, scales flashing like fireworks when they caught the light just right. The summer sun shone hot, the scalding rays making sweat bead up at the nape of his neck, but the mud was cool against his bare feet. 

You crouched on the bank, scooping up mud with careful fingers. He settled beside you, balancing on his haunches, but you didn’t look up. He watched as you shaped the mud deftly, building a structure he couldn’t quite make out. 

He almost asked, but when he glanced at you, the look on your face stopped him in his tracks. Your eyes were knife-sharp as you concentrated, but joy shone through you, the sun cutting through clouds. He subsided, content to simply watch your delight.

You worked steadily, sometimes letting the mud drip into wavy patterns, as sinuous as a snake, winding through the structure the way the river cut through the mountains. Diluc liked the way your hands moved, delicate but sure. 

He thought he could watch you forever.)

You hum as you pick another sunny bloom, running the pad of your finger over the petals of it. Then you push to your feet and head back to where Diluc is leaning against a tree. The dandelions sway as you pick your way through them, a few loose seeds rising through the air.

Diluc shifts as you settle on the blanket you’d spread out. The dandelions tumble from your arms to pile up like fool’s gold, glinting brightly even in the shade. You pick up a few blooms and start to knot them, weaving them together, your fingers a loom. Your wedding ring glints with each movement.

“Will you help?” you ask, not looking up.

Diluc stiffens. “How?”

You glance up at him, that rosebud smile blooming on your lips. “Come sit,” you say. 

He hesitates for a breath. You watch him serenely, your face a still pond, not even a ripple to betray your thoughts. With a sigh, he uncrosses his arms and pushes off of the tree. He settles across from you on the blanket.

“Give me your hand,” you say.

He balks. “Why?”

“So I can cut it off.” 

He rolls his eyes before he can stop himself; you laugh, the sound catching in the breeze and swirling around him. 

“C’mon, then,” you say, reaching out, palm up.

He stares for a breath. He thinks of an altar carved of flesh and bone, a place to lay everything he has to give. Then he reaches out, setting his gloved hand in yours.

You curl your fingers around his. He wonders if your skin would be cool against his, a snowmelt touch. He thinks it likely, but he’s glad for the protection of his glove. His hands are gnarled with scars and burns, his sins made manifest; they would catch against your softer skin, scrape across it. He doesn’t think he could bear it. 

He watches as you start to wind a dandelion stem around one of his fingers, weaving another stem through it before pulling them towards yourself. You do it again. By the third time, he realizes what you’re doing as a dandelion chain—made thick by the way you’ve woven it, three blooms across—starts to wind around your wrist, each golden blossom a small sun against your skin.  

“A crown?” he asks.

You peer at him through your lashes. 

“It could be,” you say. “I haven’t decided yet. It’s for Anatol’s daughter. I promised I’d make her something.”

“Anatol?”

“One of the Fatui diplomats,” you say, still weaving dandelions together. “He was stationed in Liyue previously, so we know each other well.” 

Diluc tenses. He almost curls his hand into a fist, but he catches himself at the last second, unwilling to ruin the flower you currently have wound around his finger. “I see,” he says. “You work closely with the Fatui delegation in Liyue?”

You hum. “From time to time.” 

“How often?”

You glance up at him again. Your eyes gleam in the sunlight, knife-sharp, an autopsy cut. “Thinking of taking up diplomacy, are we? I must say, I’m not sure you have the temperament for it.”

“Merely curious.” 

You thumb at the stem wound around his fingertip; it vibrates softly, a plucked harp string. He can’t parse your expression. The smile on your lips isn’t a rosebud curve. It’s something harder, the edge of the crescent moon, a fishhook of a thing. It sinks into him, buries itself beneath his skin. 

“It’s funny,” you say softly. “I think you’re more curious about my work than you are about me.” 

Diluc winces. “That’s not—”

“It’s fine, though,” you say. “I know that it’s just a marriage of convenience. Though I hope we can be friends.”

His stomach twists. “Friends,” he echoes.

“If you’re amenable to it.”

He nods, a little sharper than he means to. “Of course.”

Your smile softens. “Good.”  

Before he can say anything else, you hum, tying off the end of the dandelion chain with nimble fingers. “There,” you say. “That should do it.” 

He pulls his hand back as  you wind the chain securely around your wrist, a bracelet of little suns. There’s still a pile of unused flowers on the blanket; you scoop them into your arms before setting them to the side.

Diluc helps you fold the blanket up. Your fingertips brush and he wonders again what your skin would feel like. He shakes the thought loose and concentrates on helping you pack up. It doesn’t take long between the two of you.

“Let’s bring these,” you say, gathering up the extra blossoms again. They spill across your arms in a golden river, sweet and bright. “Lisa uses them for potions, sometimes.”

“There’s room in the saddlebags. My mare’s at the edge of the Sea.”

You nod and the two of you make your way through the Sea. Diluc’s mare huffs as you come into view, tugging lightly at her tether. He murmurs to her, stroking along her flank before checking that the saddle hasn’t loosened. 

“What’s her name?” you ask.

“Daybreak.”

“Pretty name.”

“My father named her. He said I couldn’t be trusted.” 

You laugh. “Really?”

“Apparently I’m bad at names.”

“What would you have named her?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You look like you’re going to say something, but Daybreak noses at you, searching for treats, and you coo over her instead. Diluc makes a note to give her an apple in the stables; he’s not sure he could bear to admit his chosen name to you. He lets you pet her for a bit before he nudges her away. 

“We should be off,” he says. “The sun will start to set soon.”

“Alright,” you say, tucking the rest of the dandelions into the saddlebag carefully. “I’m ready.”

Diluc helps you up onto Daybreak before taking her reins to start to lead her down the path.

“Diluc,” you say. “Surely you don’t expect me to ride while you walk.”

“It is what I intended.”

You peer down at him. The sun haloes you, crowning you with divine fire. He has to look away.

You sigh. “If you’re walking, I might as well walk too.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Then ride with me. At least then we’ll get to the city before dusk.” 

He hesitates. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He sighs and hands you the reins. He swings himself onto Daybreak with one graceful movement; he hears your breath catch. He settles behind you, stiff in the saddle to try and keep from pressing up against you. 

It’s not enough. He can feel the curve of your ass between his thighs, the swell of it soft against him. He sucks in a breath. Your scent billows over him, your perfume lingering on your skin even after hours in the sun, lush and inviting. He shifts; you glance over your shoulder at him. He focuses intently on the sweep of your lashes instead of the curve of your lips. 

“Are you alright?” you ask.

He nods, flicking the reins lightly to set Daybreak into a trot. 

You eye him for a moment before turning around. You settle back into the cradle of his hips again, and Diluc bites down on a curse.

It’s going to be a long ride.

—

By the time the two of you arrive in the city, the sun is cracking open over the horizon, bleeding crimson and orange. Cider Lake is afire as you ride across the bridge; it glows golden, a molten pool. 

Daybreak snorts as Diluc brings her to a halt just before the city gates. 

He swings down off her back and offers you a hand. You slip your fingers into his grasp; he grips them carefully as you dismount. He almost thinks he can feel the heat of you through the thick leather of his gloves. 

He lets go once you’re safely on the ground, though his fingertips linger. He pulls back when he realizes, flexing his hand. You don’t seem to notice. You’re already rummaging through the saddlebags to collect the dandelions you’d gathered. Some of them are a little worse for the wear, but they’re burned copper by the setting sun, gleaming in your arms. 

“I’m going to find Lisa,” you say. “Will you be at Angel’s Share?”

He nods. “Come to the tavern when you’re ready to leave,” he says. “I’ll accompany you back.” 

“You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble.”

You examine him for a moment; he doesn’t know what you see, but it seems to satisfy you.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll see you then.”

You’re off before he can respond. Lawrence salutes to you as you spare him a small smile, your lips a sweet curve. Diluc watches you sail through the gates of the city; he breaks free of his trance only when Daybreak nudges at him, nuzzling up against his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he murmurs to her, stroking a gloved hand along her neck. “C’mon, let’s get you stabled.”

He waves off the stable boy when he tries to take Daybreak from him. He sequesters himself away in an empty stall, carrying in water for the mare and stroking at her flank as he takes off the saddle. The light fades as he works, slanting through the window, a melting patch of gold. 

It’s dusk by the time he leaves the stable, faint fingers of light still lingering on the horizon, blending with the darkening velvet of the sky, a watercolor thing. The full-bellied moon is beginning its steady rise. He pauses in front of the stable, glancing towards Angel’s Share.

Then he heads the other way.

The Grand Goth Hotel gleams in the moonlight, rising high into the sky over the courtyard. It should be intimidating, but there’s something quietly graceful about it, like the curve of a dancer’s back. Vines trail over it like lace, tatted over the wood and dotted with bright pops of flowers. A lone Fatuus stands guard in front of the grand doorway. 

Diluc’s fingers twitch.

He longs for the weight of his claymore, for the way the pommel rests in his palm. It would pacify the thing that lingers behind his ribs, a yawning maw that always hungers. He’s never been able to satisfy it; in the darkest hours of the night, he sometimes fears he never will. 

The Fatuus yawns. Diluc steps closer, until he can feel the faint mist of the fountain’s spray. The faint scent of the fountain’s planters rises, stirred into something lush by the water. It’s a little musty, but he doesn’t care; the hotel has his full attention. He scans the building and zeroes in on a moving curtain. 

There’s a figure just beyond it, made misty by the distance, a ghostly outline against the window. The curtain flutters again, flicked shut, and Diluc huffs out an annoyed breath. He watches for a moment more, but the fabric remains still.

When he returns his gaze to the guard, his shoulders stiffen.

You’re chatting brightly to the Fatuus, who has a slight flush on his cheeks, visible even from across the square. Diluc grits his teeth. You’re turned just enough that he can’t read your lips, that he can only see the corner of them, a sweet curve. 

Whatever you say, the guard steps aside. He pulls open the door for you and ushers you inside with a hand on the small of your back. He returns to his post as you disappear behind the massive door of the hotel, the building swallowing you down. 

Diluc’s gloves creak as he curls his fingers into a fist. He strides towards the hotel, his boots echoing against the cobblestones. The guard sees him coming; he pales a little but stands firm at his post. 

“The Goth Grand Hotel has been reserved for the Fatui delegation alone,” he says, though he can’t quite look Diluc in the eye.

“My wife just went inside,” Diluc says, crossing his arms over his chest, knowing it emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders. “I’m meeting her.”

The guard wrinkles his brow. “No access for unauthorized persons!”

“She’s authorized?”

“That’s not information I can share.”

Diluc raises a brow. The guard flinches.

“My wife,” Diluc says, “is inside. I will be joining her.”

“You’re not authorized.”

“Do I look like I care? Take me to my wife. Now.”

“Sir—”

“I’m not asking.”

The guard wilts at Diluc’s authoritative tone, but he holds firm. Diluc would be impressed if he wasn’t so annoyed. His fingers itch for the weight of his claymore again; his Vision is warming against his thigh. He shifts, but before he gets far, your voice rings out in the square. 

“Luc.”

He goes still. Even as children, you’d never taken to calling him by a nickname; to hear it slip from your lips now makes something in him swell. He hadn’t thought—

“Yes, Miss?” the guard asks.

“It’s ma’am,” Diluc says, petty. “She’s married.” 

“I’m sorry about my husband,” you say, sliding out from between the heavy oak doors of the hotel to lay a hand on the Fatuus’ arm. “Diluc, stop tormenting Luke.”

That feeling in his chest deflates like a pierced Anemo slime. His brow knits into a thundercloud expression; the guard—Luke, apparently—flinches. 

“I wasn’t tormenting him,” he says drily, staring at where you’re still touching the other man. “If I was, everyone would know.”

Luke pales.

“Ignore him,” you say. “He’s just grumpy because I’m late.” 

Luke just nods, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. You sigh and turn to Diluc. 

“Shall we?” you ask, and Diluc finds himself raising his arm for you to take hold of without thinking. You slip your hand into the crook of his elbow; he thinks he can feel the heat of it even through his coat. 

You make it just a street over before Diluc can’t help himself.

“Are you often allowed into restricted areas?”

You blink, confused, and then your face clears. “Oh,” you say. “It was just because I was going to see Anatol. It wasn’t going to take long, especially since he met me in the lobby.”

“Still.”

You hum. “It’s because of child,” you say, as if that makes any sense.

“A child?”

The laugh that leaves you is bright; it echoes through the street, lingers shimmering in the air. “No,” you say. “Childe. The Harbinger. We’re quite friendly. It allows me small exceptions at times.” 

Diluc tamps down on his automatic reaction. This is not new information. If anything, he should be glad for it. But it stirs something in him that he’s afraid to name. He breathes out through his nose, a slow, steady flow of air that serves to put out the embers smoldering within him.

“I see.”

You glance at him; he can’t quite decipher your expression before you turn away.

The rest of the walk to Angel’s Share is spent in silence. 

—

The two of you do not spend long at Angel’s Share; Diluc speaks to Charles as you greet a table full of Knights of Favonius. Diluc watches as they stand to greet you, looking far too pleased to have your company. He huffs.

“Master Diluc?” Charles asks.

“It’s nothing,” he says, returning his attention to the bartender. “Please, continue.”

Charles nods and goes on to detail a few small issues that have come up since Diluc was last in the tavern. Diluc listens intently, but his gaze occasionally wanders to the knights’ table. 

You make a sight, sitting primly at one of the tavern’s rustic tables, your hair shining in the flickering lantern light, as if stars are scattered within it. You’re a queen holding court, your mouth a sweet curl. The knights’ cheeks are cherried by alcohol; they’re stumbling over themselves to tell you stories of their trips, their fights, their bravery. 

Diluc wonders if any of them could even take care of a few slimes.

You laugh, covering your mouth with one hand. Your wedding ring glints in the light, and something satisfied curls through Diluc’s chest. 

“Is there anything else?” he asks Charles.

“That’s all, Master Diluc.”

“Thank you, Charles. I’ll take tomorrow night’s shift as planned.”

Charles nods.

Diluc gives him a sharp nod in farewell before stalking over to your table. You glance up as he approaches, your mouth still curled into that rosebud smile. 

“Is it time to go?” you ask, pitching your voice just loud enough for him to hear you. You don’t wait for an answer, starting to push to your feet. Next to you, one of the knights starts to rise to his feet as well.

Diluc lengthens his stride. He reaches the table just as the knight starts to extend a hand to you; he offers you his hand before the knight can fully reach out. You blink as the knight freezes. He sinks back into his chair as Diluc extends his hand further, an obvious prompt. 

You laugh, though Diluc is not sure why. Still, it doesn’t matter, because you slip your hand into his and he closes his fingers around it, helping you from the table. He lets go as soon as you’re by his side. 

“Goodnight,” you say to the table. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Of course!” one of the younger knights says, grinning widely. “Though it’s a shame the captain missed you!”

You laugh again, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Don’t fret,” you say easily. “I’ll see him soon enough.”

Diluc frowns. 

“Travel safe,” one of the other knights—Anselm, Diluc realizes, the one who had escorted you earlier—says. “May Barbatos protect you.” 

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a little smile.

Diluc clears his throat. “It grows late,” he says. “We need to be off.” 

“Of course,” you say. “Goodnight, sirs.” 

The knights chorus a series of goodbyes, somewhat clumsy with inebriation. You laugh again, but don’t linger, heading towards the tavern door; Diluc lengthens his stride once more and opens the door for you. 

Your lips curve sweetly, but you don’t say anything.

The walk to the stables is quiet. True night has fallen, a dark curtain lit only by the lantern of the full moon, casting its light in a perfect halo, blotting out the stars. It grows darker when a cloud crosses the moon, a ship cutting across the sea of the sky. 

Diluc, though, is used to it. He leads you to the stables carefully, keeping to the main roads in lieu of his darker paths, of the murky alleys that not even the moonlight pierces. He stays close by your side; sometimes he thinks you might even lean into the warmth of him. 

When the stables come into view, still lit by multiple lanterns and humming with life, stablehands settling the horses for the night, Diluc pauses. “Did you bring the carriage?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I didn’t want the fuss,” you say. “It seemed easier to just ride.”

He nods before guiding you into the stables. Your horse—Sunsettia, if he’s remembering correctly— is stabled next to Daybreak; he slips into her stall and starts to tack her up for you. He smoothes a hand over the mare’s flank before he tightens the saddle. Her tail flicks and he pets her again.

When he steps out of the stall, you’re nowhere to be found.

Then Daybreak nickers inside her stall. Diluc glances into it and blinks. She’s perfectly saddled, nudging against you in a quest for apples or some other treat. You meet his gaze over the stall’s edge. You smile, a crescent moon curve. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

You tilt your head. “Neither did you.” 

He huffs but inclines his head to you. Your smile softens, the edges of it smoothing into something sweeter. You slip out of Daybreak’s stall and take Sunsettia’s reins instead, leading the mare outside and calling out a quiet goodbye to the hovering stablehand.

Diluc leads Daybreak out of her own stall and presses his face into her flank for a breath, then he follows you.

It’s a long ride home.

—

“Master Diluc.”

“Yes, Adelinde?” he asks, not looking up from the document he’s reading. He flips to the next page, mouthing along with the numbers as he does, sketching them down on a scrap piece of a paper. 

She clears her throat. 

He pauses. He sets down the paper and glances up at her. She smoothes down her skirt and his brow furrows. Whatever she’s come to tell him, he won’t like it.

She meets his gaze steadily, her shrewd eyes gone to seaglass in the morning light. “Your wife is preparing to leave,” she says.

“I’ll be down in a moment.”

“She is insistent on not taking any personnel from the winery.” 

“She needs to take at least an attendant with her.”

“She has one, she says.”

“One of ours, Adelinde.”

“I understand,” she says. “She disagrees. Quite strongly.”

Diluc pushes to his feet. “I’ll convince her.”

Adelinde studies him for a moment, her green eyes flickering, all St. Elmo’s fire. “If I may, sir,” she says, “I’m not sure that you can.” 

He pauses. “That I can? Or that I should?”

Her eyes soften; her mouth curls into something tender, a still-healing bruise. 

“Both,” she says.

He sighs. “I’ll take it under consideration, Adelinde. Is there anything else?”

“That’s all.” 

Diluc inclines his head to her before he strides from the room. He makes his way to your room, but there are only servants in there, stripping down the bed and throwing open the bay windows to air it out. He moves on to the rest of the winery, but it’s not until he steps out into the warm glow of the mid-morning sun that he finally finds you.

You’re petting one of the winery’s ratters, stroking along its head and laughing when it tries to lick you. The dog is a beautiful one, sleek-bodied with short-cropped fur the color of burnished copper coins. It sees him coming and pulls away from you, trotting up to him instead and nudging its head against his gloved hand. Diluc obliges, skating his fingers behind the dog’s ears and scratching.

“Yours?” you ask, standing from your crouch. 

He shakes his head. “One of the workers’,” he says.

“I suppose I can’t take it with me, then.”

“No,” he says. “But you can take one of the attendants with you.”

You sigh. “I already told Adelinde that I have no need of another one.”

“It’s different now,” he says. “You’re a Ragnvindr.”

You raise a brow. “I assure you, my current attendant meets Ragnvindr standards, despite what you may think.”

“My staff is vetted.”

“So is mine.”

“It’s—”

“This isn’t up for debate, Diluc.”

He’s about to argue when a whistle rings out, long and low and fluting, and the dog’s ears perk up. It arrows off into the distance, pausing only to snap at a crystalfly that had fluttered a bit too low. The two of you watch it go.

When Diluc glances at you again, you’re already watching him. You’re unreadable, a new moon’s outline in the velvet sky, and he sets his jaw.

“Alright,” you say. “If I accept your attendant when I’m in Mondstadt, will that pacify you?”

He frowns. It doesn’t get him what he needs—one of his people in your office—but it’s a start. “I’d prefer that you take them with you to Liyue.” 

You study him for a moment. Your eyes are knife-sharp and slip beneath his skin, but Diluc is used to being sized up by worse opponents.

“Very well,” you say, sighing lightly. “I’ll take them with me to Liyue.”

He blinks, startled by the sudden capitulation, but he recovers quickly. “Thank you.”

You hum as he beckons to a nearby worker, sending them into the winery to alert the attendant he’d picked out. It takes a bit to sort everything out, but you’re ready for departure in a timely manner. Diluc approaches you at the carriage’s side and clears his throat.. 

“You are prepared?” he asks.

“I am.”

“Shall I?”

You nod and he hands you up into the carriage, where your new attendant is waiting. You settle into the seat gracefully before glancing at him once more.

“Thank you,” you say. “For your hospitality.”

He shakes his head. “It is your home too, now,” he reminds you. 

“Still.”

Silence descends, pulled taut like a harpstring. It’s broken by the driver’s arrival. 

“Safe travels,” Diluc says, a little bit stiff. “Send word when you arrive.” 

Something crosses your face, a lightning-strike expression. It’s too fast for him to parse. 

“I will,” you say. “Goodbye, Diluc.”

“Farewell,” he says as the driver closes the carriage door. Your eyes are the last thing  he sees, gleaming in the morning light. Then the driver is up on their post and clicking the horses into movement down the road. 

He watches until the carriage is out of sight. Then he turns around and heads back into the winery.

Somehow, it feels a little emptier inside.

[cielito--lindo]

What's Going On?

wc: 1.8k

parings: bakugou katsuki x reader, some iida tenya x reader

a/n and warnings: aged!up au, prohero!reader, afab!reader, swearing, angst and a small amount of fluff, maybe eventual smut??

Part One. Part Two.

“That absolute mother fucker” You gritted out. You could practically feel the steam coming out of your ears. No contact for almost 6 months and then suddenly he’s sending you flowers? FLOWERS?! Oh the next time your lay your eyes on Katsuki Baukgou, it’s on fucking SIGHT.

Kirishima must have told him of your dinner plans for tonight. Katsuki had always been territorial, especially when it came to you. A tight grip around your waist was ever-present on your nights out, a snarl on the tip of his tongue if a guy got too close for his comfort. 

There was a faint flutter in your stomach as you remembered his hands around you, growling a soft “Mine”. 

NOPE. NOPE. CUT THE CAMERAS.

You squeezed your eyes and locked those thoughts away. “5 Gs, girl.” You muttered to yourself. Good god girl, get a grip.

Pain radiated from your palm and it wasn’t until then that you realized how hard you were squeezing the necklace in your hand. The light shining off of it caused prisms to dance along the walls of your office. You could feel your quirk humming under your skin, aching to be used. You haven’t felt like this since the last full moon, hell it feels even better than that. The small potted plant you failed to revive caught your eye from the corner of the room; letting your eyes flutter close, you lifted a hand and aimed the thrumming energy to it. 

Using your quick came as easy as breathing, you watched as the plant seemed to reverse in age. The browning leaves, fading to a bright and vibrant green. Your quirk worked through lunar energy, being able to manipulate dark matter and time-space. Or at least, that’s how your parents described it. They both came from planetary quirk families and they had passed their traits onto you, but you felt like there was more than what they had let on. Your mother’s quirk was in tune with the sun; your father’s the stars. It had been a long time since someone with lunar abilities had been born into the family. As you grew older, you felt other..aspects of your quirk manifest. Visions or illusions. The only person you had confided in about it had been Bakugou after a particularly vivid nightmare. You’ve had better control with them now, thanks to endlessly grueling training sessions.

You shook yourself out of the memory and admired the newly flowered plant. You quickly threw the pendant in your desk drawer, locking it away to obsess over later. Right now, you had to focus on this mountain of work in front of you and then...dinner with Iida.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

“Girl, you’re still here?” Ochako’s head popped in behind your door, your head snapped up at the sound of her voice. The afternoon shade had begun to replace the soft spring sunshine, you hadn’t realized how much time had passed. 

“Fuck what time is it??” You frantically searched for your phone, hoping you hadn’t made yourself later. You breathed a sigh of relief “Thank god, it’s only 5.”

Ochako gave you a flat look “You should’ve been out of here at 3!” She chastised you “This is what happens when you pull the I’m just a girl, I simply will die if I do my paperwork at a reasonable time.” 

“First off, fuck you. Second off, fair point.” You sighed in defeat “In my defense, it’s hard being a teen pro-hero.”

“Bitch, we are 28.” 

“Okay, whatever, god.” You rolled your eyes, dodging with a laugh as she threw one of the little mints you had in a bowl by the door. “Oh and also texting the group chat. Really? I got another one of Kirishima’s ‘I’m a child of divorce’  calls.” Ochako had the decency to look sheepish as it was your turn to chastise her.

“I’m sorryyyy, I was just excited!” Her eyes finally landed on the bouquet you had placed by the window “Oh my god, those are beautiful!” She rushed over to admire them. “Who were they from?”

Sweat prickled the back of your neck. Oh, they were from my ex-boyfriend who I’m sure now knows I’m going on a date with our old classmate because your nosy ass couldn’t resist gossipping to one of his best friends. “Uh, I’m not sure, actually. Didn’t come with a card.” A half truth was good. “I think it might have been from that charity I had helped with last month.”

She hummed, not fully paying attention. “Yeah, maybe.” She gasped “What if they’re from Iida?! Oh how romantic!” You quickly reacted as you saw her reach for her phone. Darkness swiftly creeped up her hand and shifted the phone into your hand. “Ugh!” She grimaced “I hate when you do that! It’s cold as hell!”

You waved her phone in front of her “I wouldn’t have to do it if you weren’t such a gossip! They definitely weren’t from Tenya, trust me.” You tossed her phone back to her. “Speaking of, I gotta get going if I wanna make it on time.” 

Ochako raised an eyebrow at the remaining folders on your desk. “That’s future Y/N’s problem.” You dismissed her. 

After locking up, you rushed back to your apartment, sending a quick prayer of thanks to Maia for finding you an apartment so close to the agency. 

You spent a good amount of time just staring at your closet after your shower. The scent of soft vanilla and coconut filled the room from your lotion and perfume. 

With your quirk, you produced visions of curated outfits you could wear. Not the best use of it, but it came in handy. Shuffling outfits for a while, you finally landed on a velvet dark blue two piece outfit. The corset top was embroidered with twinkling stars and showed juuuust enough cleavage to still be tasteful and the skirt had a slit that stopped mid-thigh. Thankfully it was still long enough that it touched the floor, even with the heels you paired it with. You definitely may have spent a little too much time on your makeup and hair, but as you checked yourself out in the mirror, you couldn’t help but grin. God damn, you definitely still got it. 

A faint beep came from your phone, signaling you that your uber was outside.

Well, here goes nothing. 

***

The restaurant was bustling as you entered, your eyes scanning the room. “Can I help you?” A smiling hostess asked as you approached “Do you have a reservation?”

“Uh, I believe so?” You replied “It would be under the name-”

“Y/N!”

Your head whipped around at the sound of your name. Iida stood, towering over the other seated patrons, waving you over eagerly. “Nice work” the hostess whispered over to you as she ushered you through.

“Iida!” You greeted, hugging him “It’s been so long!” His touch was gentler than you expected, long gone was the typical stiff Iida hug from your school days. The scent of clean laundry and citrus filled your nose. 

“It definitely has” He agreed as he pulled away “You look beautiful.” You watched as his eyes roamed over you, noticing the way they lingered a little longer around your chest. Mentally note that for later, you thought. He quickly moved to pull out your chair, you smiled up at him with a quiet thank you. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered us some drinks. I hope you still like rum and coke.” 

“You still know me so well, Tenya. Color me impressed.” You grinned, seeing the tips of his ears turn pink. “So, what have I missed, Ingenium?”

He animatedly filled you in about his life since you had last seen him. His eyes still lit up whenever he talked about his brother and their family, boasting about being a proud uncle. After the waiter came and took your menus and orders, Iida cleared his throat. “Pardon, if this is too forward, but I can’t help but ask about the elephant in the room.”

You nodded with a resigned smile “Bakugou and I?” Iida responded with a sheepish smile of his own “I forget you weren’t around when it happened, it feels so long ago, but...not? If that makes sense?” You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“Oh, it makes complete sense. I think we were all surprised by the news, you both had been together since graduation. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

You shrugged “It felt like we were living two separate lives, you know? I felt like I was the one trying to keep the relationship alive. The work we do is incredibly hard and trying to keep yourself alive as well as a relationship can prove...difficult at times. It wasn’t solely just on him, I also had things to work through, but he’s doing his thing and I’m happy to be where I am.” You looked up at him through your lashes, loving the way a soft blush dusted his cheeks. 

“If it’s worth anything, I’m happy you’re here too.” He grinned at you, his smile causing the small creases around his eyes to crinkle. He noted your empty glass “Oh, let me call over..Bakugou?”

You snorted, “Oh god, that would be the worst.” 

“Oh, would it be, you wannabe lycanthrope?” The sound of the gruff voice behind you made you freeze. 

You watched as Katsuki Bakugou himself strode towards your table, the model from the cover shoot trailing after him. You looked up and met his red-hot eyes that seemed to bore into your soul. He looked absolutely murderous, but his eyes..it felt like there was more betrayal than anger behind them. 

This cannot be happening, this cannot be happening. 

Ever the polite hero, Iida stood and extended his hand “Bakugou, it’s great to see you again.” Katsuki just ignored him, continuing his one-sided staring contest with you. “Uhm, are you going to introduce your date?”

That seemed to snap Bakugou back to the present “Huh?” He grunted, looking behind him. His date looked at him expectantly “Oh, her name’s Leah.”

“It’s Lisa.” She scoffed

His eyes returned to you “Yeah, whatever.”

You felt an uncomfortable heat rise up your chest. You couldn’t let him see you with your defenses down, not like this. You took a sip of your water before standing and smoothed down your outfit. You didn’t miss how his eyes roamed down your form hungrily, without shame in front of his date. “It’s nice to meet you, Lisa.” You smiled politely at her “I’m Y/N.” You turned to the man in front of you, “Bakugou.” You greeted. He always hated you calling him by his last name. 

“That’s for the fucking extras to do, you call me Katsuki or whatever you want. Not Bakugou.”

His jaw twitched “That’s-” He was cut off by the waiter, trying to grab his attention.

“Sir, your table is ready. Please follow me.” 

“Nice to see you again!” Iida said as Bakugou and his date were being ushered away.

“Eat shit, Sonic!” Bakugou yelled over his shoulder.

y'all i cannot tell you how hard it was to write this shit out - i struggled, but we're here, babeyy!

i appreciate the support so much! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for upcoming posts!

taglist: @kimsrie

dividers: @saradika