Feeding The Desperate (kyokao Fans)

The cool type 💜

shishishi. hello luka fans (included me) watching miraculous recently I couldn’t hold back and had to draw this beautiful little angel y'all don’t know how hellish it is to draw a guitar but i did my best :D 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 <3

Source: https://x.com/moa_a0

Kyotama but it's miraculous

Tamaki is chat noir and Kyoya is ladybug

Chat noir(Tamaki) : why hello beautiful

Ladybug(Kyoya) : for the love of God please stop saying that I will actually kill you

Chat noir(Tamaki) : what :D

beating, not still

— sylus slips into bed with you in the middle of his day to calm the specter that haunts you

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: sy’s chest has been thru the wringer so i wanted to show it some love. accidentally made myself sad writing this. something quick & cute, i’ll edit punctuation & caps in the morning hehe. enjoy! ❀-urs

sylus x reader | angst, fluff, mentions of killing, hurt/comfort, softsyloo

“you like that spot.” sylus murmurs, voice like caving ground and a simmering fire. his large hand comes up to brush your hair out of your face. warm like a furnace. through the curtain, you meet his sleepy gaze.

your lips press against his bare chest, just the tiniest tilt to the right of his sternum. he smells of clean soap, spice and something inherently him— crisp and familiar. the brush of your lips on his skin as you speak makes him shiver, ripples of sensation shooting through his nerves like fire. “good morning.”

“beloved,” he purrs, hauling you up by your shoulders to meet your lips in a tender kiss. “did you sleep well?”

you nod out of instinct. but you were awake in the middle of the night for a reason. he slipped in for a midday nap with you because of something you’d been doing in your sleep.

“are you sure?” he whispers, more sympathetically as he trails his thumb down the line of salt your tears left behind. he kisses your forehead tenderly, “Tell me.”

you turn away, crawling back down to his chest and planting your chin there as a silent protest. “i dont remember.”

he considers you— if you were being stubborn or secretive or brave yet again. but with the way you were trailing your fingers down the middle of his chest, how your ear is so meticulously close to his heart, listening for a thrumming heartbeat that was present and not still— he had a feeling he knew what it was.

“angel.” he implores you, large hand coming to rest on the top of your head. “i’m here.”

your chest tightens. a vacuum pulling every bone inwards until they shatter and crash into the cavity. and you are helplessly trying to ground yourself, match your breathing with the constant badump badump badump of his heart.

“i know.” you squeeze the words out, holding your breath when you do. controlling the amount you let out lest you let loose everything. “i know, sylus.”

“no, look at me.” his finger tilts your chin up from the spot. the spot he cherishes and the spot you despise. the spot you favor. the spot he kept protected until you. the spot where you pointed the gun, and where he pulled the trigger with your finger. the spot you hear his racing heartbeat. the spot you dug your sword into, and killed him the first time. once, a long time ago, relived in a dream.

he sees you. he sees every part of you in the darkness of your bedroom— and still you shine brighter than if all the stars in the sky were to combust. he holds your gaze, because let him keel over and die again and again instead of see you in this pain. “come back to me.”

something inside you stirs— not quite pain, but something deeper, more primal and abstract. your soul, like it was beckoned to heel. to be still as another wraps itself around it. to hold on to its other half that submits itself and never let go.

“i’m a monster.” you finally confess, shattering like glass, all too conscious of staining his palms red. of hurting him. of being foolish enough to take him away from you again.

his lips press into the skin above your brow— his favorite spot. his teeth graze it as he murmurs, “that’s not true.”

“sylus—“ you begin to argue, but he silences you with a kiss. you blink, but don’t let it deter you. “i hurt you.”

“have i ever complained?”

“dont do that.” because how could he not care? how could he look at you with such a loving gaze you do not deserve? how could he forgive you as easily as breathing?

he frowns and then studies your face. “you’re right. you have hurt me.”

and somehow that is worse. of course it is worse. your bottom lip trembles. his thumb comes to rest on the delicate flesh lightly. “my soul hurts with you. when you are in pain, so am I.”

his fingers dance down your spine and hook beneath one thigh. there, he pulls you up to his eye-line. your head rests on his bicep as he presses his forehead against yours. “so listen to me when I say you are the furthest thing from who you are in your nightmares.

“and if you are a monster, then so am I.” he rasps.

his heart races under your palm, his own hand spreading your fingers over his chest. “you’ve never hurt me alone. i’ve always been there to do it with you.”

“If you couldn’t heal—“ you start.

“Then I would have broken all my bones crawling back to you.” he vows.

“If you died—“

“I would have found you in the next life. And the next, and the next.”

“If you felt I hated you.” you hiccup, unable to hold back the tears. the thought of him believing for one second you felt anything but love for him devastated you beyond belief. His eyes fill with warmth as he lowers his tone.

“Then I would have done everything to remind you how much I love you.” He says steadily. “Don’t mourn over who we were, my heart.”

“We are here.” he says, kissing the tip of your nose. floating his lips over the lids of your eyes. “Come back to me and stay.”

ever patient, ever gentle and kind to you. he keeps you in his embrace until you calm, feathering the tip of his nose lightly up and down your cheek as he kisses each of your fingers.

you listen to his heart; to his steady breathing, swaying and cradling you like the push and pull of the tide. you listen to his words, turn them over and around in your head— once, twice, thrice— until they sink deep, deep in your heart. this truth settling like oil in your liquid thoughts.

he watches as you calm. and you melt back down his chest— to the spot where he found you.

“beloved?”

you kiss him there— over the invisible mark of the bullet and the sword and your hatred. what once was his undoing, but has always been his strength. the hand that killed him now holds him tightly, tenderly. lovingly and achingly so.

this is your promise to him— to undo all that was done.

to return. to love. to stay.

his face is almost feverish when you cradle it. his content smirk a charming twitch beneath your thumb as his eyes close at your touch.

your cheek to his chest, iron to a magnet— natural, inevitable. finally, you smile— small, but sincere. enough for him. “i like this spot.”

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

(pages 44-46)

is the "ayup" too british i fear it may be too british

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im pretty sure its a running joke in the kyokao fandom that they actively make each other worse which i think is absolutely hilarious (because like, yeah annoying capitalist x annoying capitalist) but what are some of the ways you think they improve each other? :D /gen

Great question!

I think Kyoya makes Kaoru more ambitious. Kaoru is smart enough to skirt by most of the time without much effort or forethought. I would not hesistate to believe that he and Hikaru are only doing like half their subjects and then taking tests for each other. I also think Kaoru is immature and nebulous about the future and what he wants from it.

Someone like Kyoya, who is very goal oriented and future focused would be somewhat of a motivating factor. Hikaru and Kaoru's decision to go to Tokyo University is more triggered by Haruhi and Nanako than Kyoya's still pending decision to stay in Boston, but I think Kyoya seeing what he wants and going for it is impressive. I think Kaoru would take his work more seriously, maybe take more of an interest in the business side of things if Kyoya made it more fun.

Meanwhile, I think Kaoru would motivate Kyoya to reevaluate what he thinks freedom means. Freedom is Kaoru's family motto and something Kyoya strives for and thinks he has- but has he? I think in the same way Tamaki makes him reevaluate the box his father has put him in, Kaoru would help recontextualise that a bit more. Yes, you don't have to be trapped in the expectations of your birthright, but maybe you don't need to be beholden to anyone's expectations of you- Kyoya himself said it doesn't matter as long as the people he cares about knows who he is, so maybe he should live by that instead.

The host club in general convinces Kyoya to have a bit more fun, but I think even Kaoru's specific situation- overshadowed by his elder brother, possibly disinherited due to reasons unrelated to merit- and the fact that Kaoru would be entirely unbothered by it would allow Kyoya to maybe reevaluate his options and pick ones that allow him that freedom. After all, those who live freely are the winners, right? And Kyoya wants to win.

I think this "Kaoru makes Kyoya a freer spirit" stops slightly short of Kaoru getting him on a motorbike at any point.

Basically, I think they mellow each other out. Kaoru works harder, Kyoya becomes less of a workaholic. Kaoru becomes a little more self-possessed, Kyoya becomes a little bit freer.

I also think, as me and @pilindiel were only discussing earlier, they mesh pretty well with each other's anxieties. They're two people who believe that they can only be love for the mask they put on, and two people who quite easily see through each other's masks. As long as the people you care about know who you are, nothing else matters- is as much about Kaoru as it is about Kyoya. It's an inadvertant, egotistical admission by Kyoya that he does know who Kaoru is and Kaoru does care about him, and vice a versa. Platonically, and bewildering to Kaoru at this point, but important nonetheless. Kyoya proves his point by even saying it and articulating it as a viewpoint that Kaoru would share- because he does know who Kaoru is, and nothing else about it matters.

But yeah, Kyoya believes that it is more important for the people he cares about to know him than it is for them to love him. And Kaoru is kind of into the whole evil scheming ambition thing so that negates that concern. And Kaoru meanwhile is terrified of being made obsolete and being left behind. Which is negated somewhat by Kyoya being the kind of guy with the dedication to stick to his convictions, one of which he has decided is the perpetuity of the host club. And one would be Kaoru too, of course.

Also just tacking on at the end because I'm rambling too much. I think Kyoya would make Kaoru more independent-- something Kaoru already strives for a bit more of, but there's nothing like giving someone a reason not to share a bedroom with their sibling anymore as that final push. And I think Kaoru would encourage Kyoya to be less self-isolating, less of a lone wolf. Mainly because he likes getting into other people's business. Kaoru loves teamwork <- freak.

I think this is so TamaKyoHaru. Kyoya is the character who is a genius and had to take care of everything alone his whole life and Tamaki and Haruhi just want him to be able to rest

miraculous doodles from last year

Fucker won't let me study