#i just wanted to explore this train of thought

[delladuck]

who up pony-ing their ducks?

okay so a lot of this is unserious as hell. i wanted to explore potential designs for if they were mlp… i could have got more creative with duck family’s hair but i wanted to maintain important aspects of their initial design, keep them recognizable, yadda yadda yadda, you get it. i’m done for right now. also i’m unsure of how technology works in equestria so if, hypothetically, the billionaire pony (if that would even be something that’s respected in mlp i’m not sure, i’ve only seen episodes where they idolize celebrities for talent or art. but i guess he’s a business guy so maybe, yeah, he would still be well known. okay, solved it. this is literally just my train of thought written out, enjoy), if the billionaire pony can’t get his hands on a plane, then i’d assume della and launchpad would be hot air balloon pilots? i’m a big fan of them being earth ponies so… no, no wings for them. but if they can’t have a plane, then that’s probably means no rocket, so where the hell is della banished to? is it a fucked up air balloon expedition over a mountain range that no pony has ever crossed before? still to the moon on a rocket because mlp already doesn’t gaf about its technology consistency? i have no clue. just fun hypotheticals i’ve been playing with, same with these designs. i’m not sure how much i even like them but i had fun. and before you ask “where’s da cutie mark s?” i cannot for the life of me be bothered to come up with cuties marks. i cant. i wish i could, i have some ideas, but maybe that’s for a future post.

also you can see on the scrooge page (isn’t he funny? haha old man) there are doodles of me working out how their colors/genes work and how they are passed down. i wanted what i was doing to make sense. so the ducks have more of a cool color palette while the mcducks are more warm, i dont know. mcponies. mcpony. mcdonald’s french fries. i might change scrooge’s design… just thinking as i type. i didn’t use references for like any of these. i am lazy and rely on memory. only used it for scrooge and lp but it was out of necessity. ples forgive me if they look odd.

also i just know they wouldn’t have designed webby to look like a scrooge-clone if they were ponies instead of ducks. i don’t want to hear it. i disregard canon—she is a cute pink/purple pegasus and that’s that lol.

[szariahwroteit]

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 10

Following his intense confrontation with Vinicius during training the previous day, Kylian couldn't have asked for a more opportune moment than the two days off that lay ahead. The physical and mental exhaustion from the altercation didn't weigh heavily on him, but the break felt like a much-needed refuge from the pressures of the game.

Stirring from his sleep, Kylian let out a groan as he rolled over, reaching for Giselle.

Kylian's eyes blinked open as his hand landed on the empty space beside him, his heart sinking momentarily at the realization that she wasn’t there. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room and casting shadows on the walls, but it couldn’t fill the void she had left behind. The sheets still carried her lingering scent, a mixture of floral and something uniquely her—a comfort amidst the absence.

With a stretch, Kylian swung his legs over the side of the bed, letting his feet touch the cool floor. He pushed away the thoughts of yesterday's altercation with Vinicius, focusing instead on the promise of the day ahead. The two days off felt like an open canvas, each moment a chance to relax and recharge.

Sliding on a pair of shorts before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth, he left the bedroom and made his way toward the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air—a signal that Giselle had probably been awake for a while.

As he turned the corner into the kitchen, he found her standing by the coffee maker, dressed in his oversized sweatshirt, her hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. The sight of her immediately chased away any residual tension from the previous day.

"Good morning," she said softly, turning toward him with a warm smile that ignited a flutter in his chest.

"Morning," he replied, his voice still thick with sleep but his eyes eager, taking in the way the sweatshirt fabric hugged her frame just right. "I thought I’d find you here."

"I got up early but didn't want to wake you. I figured you needed the extra sleep after turning into The Hulk at training yesterday, and you looked adorable," she teased, pouring him a cup.

Kylian smirked, accepting the steaming mug from her hand. Placing it down, he wrapped an arm around Giselle's waist and walked her backward into the counter behind.

The warmth of the coffee cup faded as his attention shifted entirely to her, the teasing banter between them morphing into something unspoken but electric. Kylian’s heart raced as he pressed his body against hers, the soft surface of the counter molding to their forms. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, and that alluring smile.

"We are going shopping today," he smirked knowingly, lowering his voice to a husky whisper, "I want to spoil you.”

“What if I don't want to be spoiled?” Giselle asked playfully, a teasing glint in her eye.

Kylian leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "Who said it was your decision?" he murmured, a blend of confidence and charm.

Giselle tilted her head, pretending to ponder his words. "You do make a valid point," she admitted, a smile creeping onto her lips.

With that, Kylian captured her lips with his, a soft yet urgent kiss communicating the intensity he felt bubbling beneath the surface.

It started as a gentle exploration, their lips connecting in a dance of warmth and familiarity, each moment making the sensation deeper. Kylian’s hands found their way to the small of her back, urging her closer as if he could absorb her essence into him. Giselle responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him in as if to erase the distance between them.

Lifting Giselle as if she were weightless, Kylian walked her out of the kitchen and back upstairs, forgoing his bedroom and entering the ensuite bathroom.

“Arms up,” he commanded playfully, his voice low and teasing.

Giselle's brows arched with feigned reluctance, but the spark in her eyes betrayed her excitement. She lifted her arms, and Kylian wasted no time, tugging at the sweatshirt to pull it over her head, revealing her bare skin beneath. The sight of her, illuminated by the morning light, took his breath away, a perfect juxtaposition of innocence and allure.

“Wow,” Kylian breathed, allowing his eyes to trace the contours of her body before settling on her gaze. “You’re beautiful.”

Giselle smiled shyly but confidently, the compliment igniting a blush on her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Yo're welcome,” hs replied, stepping closer until their bodies almost touched. The heat radiating from her skin mingled with the warmth of his own, creating a charged atmosphere that made his heart race.

“Are you going to let me spoil you, or do I have to fuck you into submission?” Kylian smirked, his voice dropping an octave, the playful tease blending with a more primal intensity.

Giselle's breath hitched at the words, her heartbeat quickening as she met his gaze—bold, challenging, and infused with an undeniable hunger that mirrored her own. She loved this side of him, the way he effortlessly transitioned between tender affection and this raw, confident energy that stirred something deep inside her.

“Both,” she replied, a sultry lilt in her tone as she stepped closer, closing the remaining distance between them.

Kylian's eyes darkened with desire at Giselle's response, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that spoke volumes about his intentions. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curves and contours as if committing them to memory.

"Both it is," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky with need. With a swift motion, he lifted her onto the bathroom counter, stepping between her legs and pressing his body against hers.

Giselle gasped at the sudden movement, her hands gripping his shoulders for support. The cool marble beneath her contrasted sharply with the heat of Kylian's body, sending shivers down her spine. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, eager to feel every inch of him.

Kylian's hands slid down to her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he ground against her.

His lips trailed a path of fire down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he left a trail of kisses and bites. Giselle arched into him, her head falling back to give him better access. His hands continued their exploration, one sliding up to cup her breast while the other dipped between her legs, finding her already wet and ready.

"Fuck, you're so perfect for me," Kylian groaned, his fingers slipping inside her easily. Giselle moaned, her hips bucking against his hand as he worked her expertly. He added a third finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come.

"Kylian!" Giselle gasped, her voice breathy and needy.

“What?” he snarled lustfully, curving his fingers as their eyes met.

"Have me," Giselle pleaded, her voice trembling with desire. She needed him inside her, needed to feel him filling her completely. The ache between her legs was becoming unbearable, and she knew only Kylian could satisfy it.

Kylian's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at her plea. Without hesitation, he helped her down from the counter, turning her away from him and leaning her over it, their lust-driven reflections staring back at them.

Kylian's hands gripped her hips tightly as he positioned himself behind her. He could feel her warmth radiating against him, teasing him, urging him closer. With a deep breath, he slowly pushed inside, inch by inch, savoring the sensation of her tight walls enveloping him.

"Oh god, Giselle," he groaned, his head falling forward as he bottomed out, fully sheathed within her. She felt incredible, as if she were made just for him. He paused for a moment, giving them both time to adjust to the intense feeling of connection.

Giselle's fingers dug into the marble countertop, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to maintain control, completely in awe of their reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Kylian's eyes locked with Giselle's in the mirror, a fierce intensity burning between them. He began to move, slowly at first, his hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that had Giselle gasping with each thrust. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her back to meet his movements, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the bathroom.

"You feel so fucking good," Kylian growled, his pace quickening. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, his lips finding the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. He sucked and bit at the skin, marking her as his.

Giselle pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with each movement, each touch. She could feel the pressure coiling inside her, threatening to consume her entirely.

"Harder," she demanded, her voice barely recognizable. "Fuck me harder, Kylian."

Kylian's response was a guttural groan, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He pounded into her, the counter shaking beneath them with the force of his movements.

Kylian's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at Giselle's plea. He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh as he obliged, slamming into her with a force that stole the breath from her lungs. The bathroom echoed with the sounds of their passion—skin slapping against skin, ragged breaths, and muffled cries of pleasure.

"Yes, fuck!" Giselle screamed, her body trembling as she neared the edge. Kylian's thrusts were relentless, hitting that perfect spot inside her that made her see stars behind her eyelids. She could feel her release building, the pressure intensifying with each movement.

"Not yet," Kylian commanded, his voice strained with his own impending orgasm. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit and circling it firmly. "Tell me you are mine to spoil and do as I please.”

Giselle's eyes snapped open, her gaze locking with Kylian's in the mirror. His command sent a shiver down her spine, the dominance in his voice both intimidating and incredibly arousing. She could feel her body responding, her walls tightening around him as if trying to pull him deeper.

"I'm yours," she gasped, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "To spoil, to fuck, to do whatever you want with. I'm yours, Kylian."

A fierce grin spread across Kylian's face at Giselle's submission. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Good girl."

His fingers moved faster on her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send her hurtling towards the edge. At the same time, he increased his pace, his hips slamming against hers with a force that bordered on painful, but Giselle welcomed it. She wanted to feel him, wanted the reminder of his possession.

"Kylian!" Giselle cried, her body convulsing as her orgasm crashed over her. Waves of pleasure washed through her, each one more intense than the last.

Kylian followed soon after, his own release ripping through him with a ferocity that left him breathless. He buried himself deep inside Giselle, his body shuddering as he filled her with his warmth. The sensation of her walls pulsing around him, milking every last drop, was exquisite.

For a moment, they remained still, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. Kylian's arms wrapped around Giselle, holding her close as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. He pressed a gentle kiss to her skin, a stark contrast to the intense passion of moments before.

"I feel..." Giselle started, her voice weak and trembling. She couldn't find the words to describe what had just happened between them. It was more than just sex���it was a claiming, a marking, a declaration of possession.

"Amazing," Kylian finished for her, his voice soft and content. He slowly withdrew from her, his arms tightening around her waist as he turned her to face him. His eyes searched hers, a tenderness in their depths that belied the intensity of their tryst.

Giselle leaned into him, her head resting against his chest.

“Shower,” Kylian murmured as he led her sated body over to the spacious glass shower stall, the steam already beginning to curl in the air. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right—a gentle spray warming the tiles beneath their feet.

As the water cascaded down, Kylian stepped back slightly, allowing the droplets to gather on Giselle’s skin, making her glow in the soft light of the bathroom. She leaned against the cool wall, relishing the warmth enveloping her, while Kylian moved behind her, his hands sliding over her wet body.

With careful precision, he captured a handful of shampoo, lathering it into his palms before working it into her hair with firm yet gentle strokes. The sensation sent shivers racing down Giselle’s spine, a pleasing contrast to the earlier intensity. The sweet, earthy scent of citrus mingled with the warm steam, creating a heady mix that filled the air around them.

"You're so beautiful like this," Kylian whispered, his fingers massaging her scalp, as he pulled her hair aside to lean in closer. The warm water cascaded over their bodies, mingling with their laughter and soft, intimate whispers.

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as he worked meticulously through her hair. "I could get used to this kind of spoiling," she replied, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Kylian's fingers moved from her hair to her shoulders, rubbing small circles into her skin as he worked his way down her spine. "Just wait until I spoil you with more than just a shower," he murmured against her ear, his breath warm and inviting.

As he pressed his body closer, the heat between them ignited once more. Kylian’s hands wandered lower, cupping the curve of her waist before gliding down to her hips. The gentle touch reminded her of the fire that still simmered beneath their playful banter, waiting to be reignited.

Giselle turned to face him, the water streaming over both of them, glistening on their skin. She took a moment to appreciate the way he looked against the soft glow of the water, his body toned and powerful, radiating a mix of confidence and vulnerability.

"You said you wanted to spoil me," she said, stepping into him, her skin brushing against his, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. "Why?"

Kylian's eyes darkened with mischief, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned in, capturing her chin between his fingers. "Because you deserve to be, and if I am being honest, spoiling you is just as much a treat for me. I like putting a smile on your face, haven't you noticed?”

A heat blossomed in Giselle’s chest at his words, an intoxicating mix of affection and desire. She searched his eyes, wanting to dive deeper into the connection they shared. "You have a way of making everything feel special," she admitted softly.

“It’s not me, it’s you,” Kylian murmured before his lips were back on hers, igniting a spark that spread through her entire being. The warmth of his mouth on hers was electric, an undeniable chemistry that seemed to pulse in the very air around them.

Once they were done in the shower, Kylian and Giselle stepped out, the steam curling around their bodies like a comforting embrace. The bathroom mirrored their playful banter from earlier, now laced with the warmth of shared intimacy.

As they reached for towels, Kylian wrapped one around Giselle's shoulders, his fingers lingering along her skin. He enjoyed the soft texture of her damp hair against his chest. "What's next on our agenda, my spoiled princess?" he asked, amusement dancing in his deep voice.

Giselle narrowed her eyes playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips. "This was your idea, and by the looks of things, Madrid is your city, so lead the way," she teased.

With a confident grin, Kylian stepped back to admire her once more, the towel barely clinging to her curves as water dripped from her skin, glistening in the sunlight that filtered through the bathroom window.

They each took a moment to dry off, laughter punctuating the air as Kylian couldn’t resist stealing glances at Giselle, as they got dressed in preparation for the day ahead.

When they were both clothed, they made their way back downstairs to the kitchen, their cups of coffee now cold and forgotten on the kitchen counter.

Giselle took it upon herself to clean up what little mess she had made, putting things back into their rightful place as Kylian watched her move around his space freely, like she belonged.

“Melissa and Jirès are coming over with the children for dinner,” Kylian explained, watching as Giselle smile widened at the mentions of kids.

“They have children?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, my niece and nephew Isabella and Isayah,” Kylian confirmed, waving Giselle over so he could show her pictures of them on his phone.

Giselle leaned against the counter, her heart swelling at the clips of joy captured on Kylian's phone. The innocence of the children—Isabella’s bright, curious eyes and Isayah’s mischievous grin—made her smile widen even more. She swiped through the photos, feeling a warmth blossom inside her at the thought of being around them.

“They’re adorable,” she said, glancing up at Kylian, who was watching her with a soft expression. “Do you spend much time with them?”

“Whenever I can,” he replied, a glimmer of pride shining in his eyes. “They keep me grounded. Plus, I’m the fun uncle, so I have to keep my reputation.”

Giselle laughed, her heart fluttering at the affectionate way Kylian spoke about his family. “I bet you’re the best uncle. I can totally picture you having them running around and causing chaos.”

“When they are with me, they can do whatever they want.” Kylian's eyes sparkled with mischief as he recounted memories of days spent with Isabella and Isayah. Giselle could see his expression's warmth and how he cherished those moments.

“I get it; it’s the same with my nieces.” she laughed, leaning closer to him. She reached into her pocket to pull out her phone, swiping through her camera roll until she landed on a picture of herself and the three little girls.

“They all look just like you,” Kylian remarked, his gaze softening as he looked at the image of Giselle with the children. The laughter and joy captured in that moment radiated from the screen, echoing a warmth filling the kitchen.

“They are a handful,” Giselle replied with a chuckle, her eyes sparkling as she remembered their playful antics. “But they’re my world. I adore every chaotic minute.”

Giselle’s focus remained on Kylian, who leaned against the kitchen island with an easy confidence. He was striking in his casual attire, the hint of muscle in his arms evident as he crossed them over his chest.

“I can definitely see you being the fun aunt,” he said, grinning at her. “I think you’d be amazing with them.”

“Awww, thank you! I really hope to be a bigger part of their lives as they grow,” Giselle replied, her heart swelling at Kylian’s approval.

Kylian stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder, as he continued to look at the images of her with the little girls, who shared striking similarities with their aunt.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked as the moment lingered between them, charged with unspoken emotions.

Giselle nodded, a sparkle of excitement reflecting in her eyes. “Absolutely! Let’s go spoil me.”

Following Kylian through his house and into his garage, Giselle watched as Kylian stepped past the sleek black Maybach he frequented and pulled the protective cover off of another that sat closer to the ground to reveal a silver Lamborghini Revuelto.

Kylian looked back at her with a mischievous grin, making Giselle’s heart race. “What do you think? Feeling spoiled yet?”

“Wow,” Giselle breathed, her eyes wide in awe as she approached the car. “This is…” she paused, searching for the right word but finding none that could capture the beauty of it. “Beautiful!”

“It’s fun to drive, and I figured if we’re spoiling you today, we might as well do it in style.” Kylian’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he tossed her the keys.

“You’re handing me the keys?” Giselle said, her heart racing with a mix of thrill and nerves.

Kylian chuckled, a playful gleam in his eyes. “You will be fine. Just follow my lead, and enjoy the ride. Besides, I have insurance for a reason.”

With a teasing glare, she caught the keys in her palm, feeling their weight like a promise of adventure.

Giselle couldn't help but place her hand on Kylian's cheek, bringing him closer for a kiss. "You have thought of everything today, haven’t you?”

“Just trying to impress you.” Kylian flashed a charming smile that sent warmth rushing through her veins. “Now, let's hit the road before I change my mind.”

Giselle slid into the driver’s seat with an energetic nod, adjusting herself in the luxurious leather as Kylian settled into the passenger seat beside her.

Typing their destination into the car's navigation system, Giselle felt a sudden wave of excitement ignite within her. The engine roared to life, vibrating under her fingertips as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her heart racing.

“You ready?” Kylian asked, leaning back, his relaxed demeanor only enhancing the thrill in the air.

“As I’ll ever be!” she replied, a confident smile spreading across her face.

With a sharp intake of breath, she pressed the gas pedal, the Lamborghini surging forward with a powerful growl. Giselle felt the rush of adrenaline course through her, her senses heightened by the speed and the exhilarating freedom of the open road ahead.

“Just remember to ease into the curves,” Kylian advised, his tone playful but serious enough to keep her focused. “And enjoy the ride.”

Giselle nodded, adjusting her driving as they ventured deeper into the city. The sun shone brightly, illuminating the streets and the laughter of people passing by. She couldn’t help but flash a grin at Kylian, who was clearly enjoying himself as much as she was.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” she said as she navigated a sharp curve with surprising grace, the car obediently responding to her commands.

“You’re a natural!” Kylian cheered, the excitement in his voice only spurring her on. They passed vibrant storefronts and bustling cafes, each moment feeling alive with possibility. “We are almost at our first stop.”

As a man and his celebrity, Kylian couldn't partake in certain activities in the way that other people could.

Things like shopping worked a little differently for him. The experience was brought to him, and on this particular occasion, shopping came in the form of an office on the very top floor of a luxury high-rise, overlooking the stunning skyline of Madrid. Giselle felt the thrill of anticipation coursing through her as they navigated through the city, eager to experience this unique shopping arrangement Kylian had set up.

Pulling up to the building, Kylian shut off the engine and turned to Giselle, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Ready?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, returning his energy with a radiant grin. Kylian combined charisma and charm, transforming what could be an ordinary outing into a day of adventure.

They stepped out of the car, and before they even reached the entrance, a well-dressed attendant greeted them with a knowing smile. “Mr. Mbappé, it’s great to see you again. We have everything prepared for your visit.”

Kylian nodded, exuding confidence as he placed a hand on the small of Giselle's back, guiding her inside. The lobby was stunning, marble floors gleaming beneath crystal chandeliers, and she couldn’t help but feel a little star-struck at the entire atmosphere—like stepping into a world reserved for the elite.

Once inside the elevator, Kylian pressed the button for the top floor, and as the doors slid shut, he turned to her with an anticipatory smile.

Giselle had experienced personal shopping before, but nothing of the magnitude in which Kylian had set up for her. The air was filled with a mingling of excitement and nervousness as they ascended, and she found herself stealing glances at Kylian, who radiated confidence and charm.

When the elevator doors opened, they were met with a private suite that took her breath away. The expansive room was filled with racks of the latest designer collections, shoes lined up neatly on shelves, and a plush seating area adorned with luxurious fabrics. Natural light poured in through floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a panoramic view of the Madrid skyline.

“Welcome to your personal shopping experience,” Kylian announced with a flourish, a proud grin stretching across his face. “I hope you’re prepared to be spoiled.”

Giselle could hardly find her voice as she stepped into the room. “This is incredible, Kylian. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“I wanted to do something special for you,” he said, his eyes glistening with sincerity.

As she wandered deeper into the room, Giselle felt like a child in a candy store, her heart racing at the sight of the stunning outfits and accessories. She ran her fingers over the exquisite fabrics, each one promising to complement her in a way she had only dreamed of.

The personal shopper—a chic woman named Sofia—stepped forward with a warm smile. “Hello, Giselle! Kylian has informed me of your style preferences, and I’ve curated a selection just for you. Let’s make this a memorable experience!”

Before she could blink, Sofia began presenting outfits, describing each piece with excitement. Giselle found herself trying on a series of stunning dresses, each one more breathtaking than the last. After slipping on a silk gown that hugged her curves perfectly, she stepped out to show Kylian.

“Wow,” he breathed, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “You look perfect.”

Giselle beamed, feeling confident and beautiful under his gaze. “Thank you! This dress feels like it was made for me.”

Kylian walked around her, appreciating every angle. “It definitely shows off everything I enjoy about you.” The way he said it sent a thrill through her, adding to the warm haze of excitement surrounding their shopping experience.

The playful banter continued as Giselle tried on outfit after outfit, Kylian offering compliments and teasing remarks. After several rounds of trying things on, she settled on a couple of dresses, a chic top-and-skirt combo, and some stunning heels—all of which Kylian insisted on purchasing for her.

When the shopping was finally coming to an end, Giselle felt a mix of satisfaction and disbelief. “Thank you for an amazing day.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Kylian teased, giving her a conspiratorial wink. “We still have one more surprise.”

He led her out of the office, back into the elevator, and this time, taking the keys so he could drive over to his jeweler.

As the elevator doors slid shut behind them, Giselle's eyes sparkled with curiosity. Kylian glanced at her with a playful grin, clearly enjoying her anticipation. "We’re going to pick out something truly special," he said, his tone teasing yet earnest. “One of my favorite things.”

The ride felt longer than before, with the excitement buzzing in the air like static electricity. Giselle couldn't help but wonder what Kylian had in mind. She had thoroughly enjoyed the shopping spree so far, but the thought of picking out jewelry filled her with intrigue. Maybe it was just a fun trinket or a meaningful piece. Whatever it was, she was ready for the surprise.

When they arrived at the jeweler, an elegantly designed boutique nestled in the heart of Madrid, Kylian led her inside with that same confident demeanor that made her heart flutter. The space was adorned with shimmering displays filled with exquisite pieces, each one more breathtaking than the last.

"Welcome, Mr. Mbappé!" A polished woman greeted them warmly, and Giselle was taken aback by how the staff immediately rushed to Kylian’s assistance. The other locked the door of the store before pulling down the shutter. "We have what you requested.”

Guiding Giselle and Kylian into the back of the store, the well-dressed woman led them into a back office where an array of watches were laid out.

“Here we are,” she said, her tone smooth and professional. “Take your time to look through our selection of Audemars Piguet watches. Each piece is a masterpiece.”

Giselle's eyes widened as she took in the splendor of the meticulously arranged watches. The gleaming metals and sparkling details seemed to draw her closer as if each piece was calling out to her. There was an air of exclusivity that made her heart race—this was no ordinary shopping trip.

Kylian stepped forward, his excitement palpable. “I want you to try on a few. We’ll narrow it down to the one that speaks to you the most.”

“Are you sure this is okay?” Giselle asked, her voice barely above a whisper, still feeling the weight of Kylian’s generosity.

“I wanted to give you one when we were in Switzerland, but I didn't get the chance to,” he revealed, making her heart skip a beat. “Choose one,” Kylian smirked as he glanced down at the three dainty watches on Giselle's petite wrist, each one the price of a small family home. Or get all three.”

“Kylian, this is crazy,” she said, her eyes wide with disbelief as she looked at the extravagant timepieces. Each watch sparkled in the light, their faces adorned with intricate designs and precious gems that seemed to whisper luxury.

“Crazy?” Kylian raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “This is just a small token of my appreciation for the time you’ve spent with me, and the time we will spend together.”

Giselle shook her head, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in her chest. “You really don’t have to do this. I’ve enjoyed my time here without the need for gifts,” she replied, attempting to resist the allure of his generosity.

“I want to,” Kylian insisted, stepping closer. His warm presence enveloped her, making her pulse quicken. “Let me.”

“This one,” Giselle said barely above a whisper, her finger smoothing over the detailing of the gold watch that had caught her eye. The delicate face was encrusted with tiny diamonds, and the intricate craftsmanship spoke to the time and care that had gone into making it—a reflection of Kylian’s own attention to detail.

Kylian's gaze softened as he leaned closer, his eyes sparkling with delight. “A great choice.” He turned to the jeweler, who had been watching intently. “We’ll take this one.”

As the jeweler delicately removed the watch from her wrist, Giselle felt a swell of emotions. This wasn’t just a watch; it was a symbol of the uniquely intense connection she shared with Kylian. A connection that held no names or titles, but as real as the watch the being placed into its box.

Once the transaction was complete, Kylian took Giselle's hand and led her out of the boutique, a triumphant grin lighting up his features. He could see the mix of emotions playing across her face—from surprise to joy and a hint of disbelief.

“What is on your mind?” Kylian asked when they were settled back into his car.

Giselle leaned back in her seat, the luxurious leather framing her as she glanced at the watch resting on her wrist. Its gleam was a perfect reflection of the day’s unfolding adventures. “Just… all this,” she said softly, her heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and wonder. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

Kylian shot her a sidelong glance, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You deserve it.” His voice, filled with genuine affection, sent a shiver down her spine.

She chuckled lightly, appreciating the way he could transform her apprehension into excitement. “You really know how to spoil someone.”

“I try,” he said with a wink, revving the engine as they pulled out of the parking lot. The streets of Madrid whirred by in a blur, colors, and sounds blending into a delightful tapestry.

When they arrived back at Kylian’s house, a sleek black Range Rover sat parked on his driveway. He turned to Giselle with a knowing smile as he slowly drove past the car and into the garage.

“Are you ready to meet my favorite people?” Kylian asked, his smile wide as he shifted the car into park. The excitement in his voice matched the glint in his eyes, a mixture of pride and affection. Giselle felt a flutter in her chest at the prospect of meeting his niece and nephew. It was a significant moment, a connection that reached beyond their playful banter and intimate encounters.

“Absolutely!” she replied, her heart racing.

As they stepped out of the car, Giselle could feel her excitement building. Kylian led the way, his strides long and confident, and she followed closely, a smile blooming on her face. Together, they entered the house, the warm light spilling into the entryway, illuminating the space that felt both grand and inviting.

Inside, the bustling sounds of laughter came from the living room. Kylian paused, glancing at Giselle with a grin that lit up his features.

As they stepped into the living room, the two children who Kylian had shown Giselle in the pictures on his phone came rushing towards their uncle.

“Mes bébés!” Kylian laughed as he crouched down to their level as Melissa stood from her space on the sofa to greet Giselle with an inviting hug.

“Oncle Kylian!” Isabella squealed, her arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted her effortlessly off the ground. Isayah, the younger of the two, followed suit, his small hands gripping Kylian’s leg as he looked up with wide, adoring eyes.

“Hey, little man!” Kylian chuckled, ruffling Isayah’s hair affectionately. “You’ve grown since I last saw you!”

“Is this your girlfriend?” Isabella asked, her voice filled with innocent curiosity, her French accent melting Giselle’s hear as she spoke.

Kylian chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice at her assumption. “No, this is my Giselle.”

Giselle stepped forward, kneeling down to meet the children at their level. “Hi, Isabella! Hi, Isayah! It’s so nice to meet you both,” she said, her voice warm and inviting.

“Hi!” they chimed in unison, their faces lighting up with smiles.

“Do you like to play?” Isayah asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

“I love to play!” Giselle replied, her heart melting at the children’s enthusiasm. “What do you like to play?”

“Everything!” Isabella exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. “We have games! Come on!” She grabbed Giselle’s hand, pulling her toward where she had her iPad propped up on Kylian’s coffee.

Kylian watched with a smile as Giselle followed Isabella and Isayah, his heart swelling with affection.

His eyes met with Melissa’s across the room, who shot him a knowing smirk before standing to her feet so she could head into the kitchen. “Your brother is having a meeting in your office,” she explained before disappearing around the corner.

Going over to where Giselle sat playing with his niece and nephew, Kylian took a seat beside them easily slipping into their game as she fired question after question at Giselle.

It didn't take long before Isayah and Isabella grew weary of their ipads and left them to go exploring around their uncles sprawling home, leaving him alone in the living room with Giselle.

“Come here,” Kylian murmured as he took Giselle's hand, guiding her down onto his lap so she straddled him as he sat on his living room sofa.

“Someone might walk in,” Giselle blushed, looking into Kylian's eyes. His hands smoothed up her back, pushing her body flush against his.

Kylian chuckled, his breath hot against Giselle's neck as he leaned in to whisper, "No one is going to come." His hands gripped her hips possessively, grinding her against his growing erection.

"Your niece, nephew, and their parents are here." Giselle pointed out, releasing a lustful sigh as her resolve weakened.

“They are not in the room with us,” Kylian smirked, his bottom lips clamping between his teeth as he sent a relatively firm slap to Giselle's backside before gripping it.

Giselle gasped at the sudden slap, her body jerking forward slightly. She bit her lip, trying to suppress a moan as she felt Kylian's firm grip on her bottom. The combination of his touch and the slight sting sent a jolt of pleasure through her.

"We have to stop," she whispered, her voice trembling with desire.

Kylian's niece entered the room as if she had been summoned, her tiny feet pattering softly against the polished hardwood floors. The delicate sound echoing.

“I told you so,” she smirked as she rolled from his lap in time to save the five-year-old from seeing anything inappropriate. Giselle quickly shifted to the side, her heart racing as she tried to compose herself. Kylian straightened up, a mischievous grin still plastered on his face.

Isabella paid them no mind as she bounded into the room, pulling her iPad from the charger before leaving again.

Kylian watched Isabella leave, his grin widening as he turned his attention back to Giselle. He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her back onto his lap.

"You're being clingy," she teased as he nipped at her earlobe. Giselle squirmed in his lap, trying to ignore the heat building between her legs.

Kylian's grip on Giselle's wrist tightened as he pulled her closer, his other hand snaking around her waist to hold her firmly against him. He nipped at her earlobe again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, before speaking in a low, husky tone.

"Clingy?" He asked as his lips curved into a smirk against her ear, and his hand slid down to squeeze her backside, pressing her hips against his growing erection. "You’re leaving soon."

He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to explore and claim. His fingers dug into her flesh, marking her as his.

Although Giselle had been able to opt out of fashion week by claiming she had the flu, life awaited her back home in Los Angeles. As good as it felt to hide away with Kylian, duty called.

Kylian's grip on Giselle tightened, his fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her flush against him. He broke the kiss, panting softly as he rested his forehead against hers. His eyes, dark with desire, searched hers intensely.

"How soon can you come back?" he asked, his accent thicker with lust.

“I'm not leaving for another two days, Kylian,” Giselle smirked as her hands traced along his jawline, feeling the tension and heat radiating from him.

“And I want to know before then when you are returning to Madrid.” Kylian leaned in closer, his breath brushing against her lips, and he could feel the anticipation crackling in the air between them. His hands remained firmly on her waist, grounding her as he waited for her answer.

Giselle bit her lip, torn between her responsibilities and her desire to stay wrapped in Kylian's arms. "I have a full week of shoots and an audition, and then I have a talk show appearance in London," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kylian's expression shifted, frustration and longing crossing his handsome features. “A week feels like an eternity,” he murmured, his hands pulling her closer as if trying to absorb her warmth into his own body.

“A week isn’t that long,” Giselle chuckled, gazing into his eyes. “If there hadn't been that little mishap at fashion week, who knows when we would have seen each other.”

Kylian's fingers traced a path along her spine, stoking the fire of her desire further. "True," he said with a soft smirk, his gaze piercing into hers. "But that mishap brought us together in a way I never expected."

Giselle's heart raced at the intensity of his words. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, the connection between them electric. "And there's no denying the chemistry we share," she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Exactly,” he breathed, his lips tantalizingly close to hers. The moment felt suspended in time, the room's warmth fading into the background. All she could focus on was Kylian and the undeniable attraction pulling them together like gravity.

“Still, we have to be careful,” Giselle reminded him, glancing toward the door. “What if someone else comes in?”

Kylian chuckled softly, “Let them. They’ll have to deal with what they see.” With that, he captured her lips again, this time with a fierce hunger that made her gasp against him. His tongue danced with hers, coaxing her to melt further into him.

As their kiss deepened, Kylian's hands roamed freely, exploring every curve of her body, igniting her senses. She felt bold enough to shift slightly, grinding against him, feeling the desperate need he had for her mirrored in her own body.

“We have to stop,” Giselle whispered, her cheeks flushing as she stood from Kylian’s lap, pushing the heat between her legs to the back of her mind.

“I’m going to help Melissa with dinner,” she added hastily, trying to divert emotions and desires swirling inside her.

Kylian watched her stand, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Go ahead,” he teased, standing up as well, his eyes dark and smoldering as he reached for her, gripping her ass before releasing it again.

Kylian trailed behind Giselle as she made her way into the kitchen, where his sister-in-law had started preparing dinner.

The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air as Giselle stepped into the kitchen, desperately trying to steady her pounding heart. She suddenly felt overly aware of the heat radiating from Kylian behind her, his nearness a tantalizing reminder of their earlier escapades.

Melissa, Kylian's sister-in-law, glanced up from the cutting board, her brow furrowing with slight concern. “Giselle, are you okay? You look a bit flushed,” she pointed out, a knowing smile creeping onto her face.

“I’m good,” Giselle quickly replied, forcing a smile, her eyes darting toward Kylian. He leaned casually against the doorframe. “I came to ask if there was anything I could help with?”

Melissa's smile widened as she gestured for Giselle to come closer. "How sweet of you! If you could chop some vegetables for the salad, that would be great."

As Giselle moved to the counter, her heart still raced from her earlier encounter with Kylian, and she felt his gaze on her like a warm caress. She grabbed a knife and began slicing through the tomatoes, the rhythmic motion helping to ground her. But Kylian’s presence remained a distraction, each lingering glance from him sending shivers down her spine.

Kylian’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he approached the counter. Sidling up next to her and leaning in slightly, his warm breath tickled her ear; he whispered, “You are mine later,” his voice low and intimate. Giselle's breath caught in her throat, and she almost faltered with the knife in her hand before he turned on his heel and left the kitchen.

“You guys are cute!” Melissa gushed as she turned to Giselle with a knowing smile.

With embarrassment and excitement at Melissa's comment, Giselle felt her cheeks flush even deeper. She tried to regain her composure, focusing on the vegetables in front of her while her heart continued to race at the thought of Kylian’s possessive words.

"I… we’re just friends," Giselle stammered, attempting to downplay the palpable chemistry between her and Kylian, but her voice lacked conviction. The heat in her cheeks betrayed her, and she could feel Melissa's playful gaze assessing her reaction.

"Oh please," Melissa chuckled, shaking her head knowingly. "I can see the way he looks at you. It’s more than just friendship."

Giselle bit her lip, suppressing a smile. She resumed chopping, focusing on the vegetables to distract herself from the vivid thoughts of Kylian that kept trying to invade her mind. Every time the knife slipped through the firm flesh of the tomato, she could almost feel Kylian's hands on her body again, and the heat between her legs surged back to life.

“Just friends,” Giselle echoed, her voice wavering as she recalled Kylian’s possessive grip from earlier. It was clear to her that their connection had evolved into something much deeper, even if she felt too shy to acknowledge it.

Melissa chuckled softly as she continued to work on the dinner preparations. “Admit it; he makes you feel things you didn’t expect.”

Giselle glanced sidelong at her, apprehension mingling with exhilaration. “It’s complicated,” she replied, the very words tasting foreign on her tongue. Deep down, though, she relished the thrill of being close to Kylian and the rush of emotions he stirred in her.

“Complicated can be fun sometimes,” Melissa winked, stirring the mixture in her pan.

“Or just complicated,” Giselle laughed, making Melissa do the same.

“Sometimes complication can lead to clarity,” Melissa replied, her tone light yet loaded with wisdom. She moved to the sink, rinsing her hands, and glanced over at Giselle. “You’re both adults. You can figure it out as you go. Do you want him?”

Giselle froze momentarily at Melissa's direct question, the knife poised over the remaining vegetable. The air between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken truths and lingering tension. Her heart raced, and she could feel heat creeping back into her cheeks.

“Yes.”

[scribesynnox]

Kef's post here, specifically the art at the end, is haunting me. It is fucking with me bad. I wouldn't wish boredom and lack of mental stimulus on my worst enemies, and here Jazz is. Stuck and trapped.

Aimless.

So I decided to write a little something because OOF. Do you know what it's like to be bored? Constantly? Because I do and it SUCKS.

For @keferon's apocalyptic ponyo au.

There’s nothing to do.

This isn’t anything unusual. Jazz regularly finds himself bored out of his mind every day. He’s exhausted every avenue of entertainment he can and then some. He already knows this human dialect, English, so he can’t entertain himself trying to puzzle out words and letters. The people at this aquarium haven’t given him any toys to mess around with either. It’s always a toss up whether the aquariums he ends up at give him toys or not. He prefers it when they do. It’s demeaning sure, but what isn’t in his situation? At least with a beach ball, he could do SOMETHING. It’s night and usually, Jazz would escape his tank by now to explore the building, but the aquarium was setting up some new policy, something about frequent tank escapes and trying to prevent them. It’s not from Jazz’s end, he’s too good at this by now to get caught, but the octopi weren’t exactly being subtle when they went to throw rotten clams at their caretakers. What this means for Jazz though, is that the aquarium is busy tonight, and there’s too many humans around for Jazz to risk it.

What it means is that there is nothing to do, and Jazz is bored.

Bored bored bored, he is so BORED, there is nothing to DO!!

He bursts into an agitated swim, circling circling and circling, trying to burn off the restless energy, or maybe to get dizzy just to feel something, anything, but he’s done this too many times, it’ll take more than that to get him dizzy. The apathy and numbed anger quickly comes back, stealing his energy and hollowing him out. He hangs in the water, bored.

There is nothing to do.

More notes on being Bored!:

when you spend all day every day almost always always always BORED, you start creating your own entertainment

Jazz zoning out a LOT because there just simply isn't anything for him to do. Sure there's the training and there's the performances and the checkups and the people watching, but they can only take away the boredom for so long.

Oh! By the way, off tangent, but I finally thought up of a reason for why Jazz hasn't tried talking to the humans in an attempt to get them to realize that he's sentient and that he has a home and he wants to be free. Or to get them to make his tank more, you know, hospitable. Or at the very least not claw at the walls inducing.

Uh, simple reason: he physically can't. Like, merfolk just Do Not have the vocal cords to pronounce human speech. Humans don't have the vocal cords to copy a lot of noises! We can do a lot, sure, but we can't do everything! I say it's the same for merfolk! The may look like humans, but humans look a lot like mers too, and so I say: while both of them can learn the other's language, they're gonna have a difficult time actually speaking it.

so like, Jazz DOES try to talk to the humans, tries to get them to realize that he's a person and he just wants to go home, please please PLEASE-!

but he is clumsy with human speech and they just think he's like a clever parrot. He has intelligence, sure, but that's it. They think his cries are because he misses his home and his pod, sure, but they also think he's better off in captivity since he is so small and alone. They know better. Poor little orca, so scared and hurt. But they know better. It's for his own good. It's okay because it's for his own good.

ANYWAYS I'm digressing, back to boredom notes.

Jazz loses time a lot. There's just.. so little for him to do. And so little reason to do it. He tries to keep himself busy but sometimes he's just.. tired.

He swims because he's bored of staying still, and then he stays still because he's bored of swimming.

haha, wait, oof, ya boi probably has depression honestly.

He probably gets moments of mania too. You know, ACTUALLY clawing at the walls, throwing himself against the tank because he hates hates HATES how small and cramped it is! How it's only big enough for him to swim in small circles! HE HATES IT

The buzzing in his skin, the restlessness, the need for something, ANYTHING, to make him think, to make him FEEL. He’s going to claw at the walls, this is torture.

The reason why Jazz knows so many human languages isn't just because he was passed around a lot and was exposed to them, it's because he was actively trying to learn them. At first, it was to try and tell someone that he just wants to go home, but when it became clear it wouldn't work, he still kept learning anyways because that way he could overhear conversations, read information from maps and leftover textbooks/papers, and try to escape on his own. Can't escape from the aquarium if he just gets immediately lost once he's outside. (don't think about how he wouldn't be able to escape even if he can read and listen. That path leads to numbness and Jazz has had enough numbness, he needs to focus.)

There's also just.. nothing else for him to do. And if he wants to stave off the boredom and Empty Hollow Fog, then he has to do something.

Honestly, when Jazz and Prowl escape, Jazz is going to have one HELL of an adjustment period outside of just learning mer culture and the ocean world. Going from being bored every day to NEW EXCITING DIFFERENT CHANGES is going to be exhausting. Like, yes, it's all very new and very exciting, and Jazz is going to be a little too preoccupied with staying alive and being terrified to really feel the crash, but man oh man, when there is a lull in all of this? This mer going to crash a LOT.

He's going to have to take a lot of breaks, not just because his tail is weak and undeveloped, but also because he's never had So Much happening All The Time before. It's a lot to adjust to!

(Not that Jazz will let himself have those breaks because uh oh, he's kinda lowkey ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED that Prowl will leave him behind if he can't keep up and Jazz is tired, but he can not go back to being alone.)

Jazz has so many made up games and tricks and stories and music and and and in his head. Because, and I can't stress this enough, there is nothing else for him to do! And when there is nothing for you to do, you start making shit up because the only other alternative is to zone out and lose time, or hit something. And Jazz gets bored of zoning out too, and the last time he hit something, they restrained him and sedated him, so uh. No. No more of that.

Jazz spent a lot of time tinkering with the locks on his tank and practicing moving himself on dry land. He's gotten good at escaping, and very good at doing neat tricks, like doing pull ups to haul himself up the stairs by using their railings, or waddling over the itchy carpet by lifting his tail in the air and keeping it there, or doing a semi cartwheel where he flips himself head over tails by using his tail to help himself roll over (okay that last one is just for fun but come on, he's allowed to have fun.)

Sometimes, when he gets too good at sneaking around, sneaks around while giving himself a handicap just to give himself a challenge. Is it a good idea? Probably not. But he's so bored.

He's gotten some close calls, but he is now very good at sneaking around.

Jazz watches people, just like they watch him, and makes up stories for them. The lady with the screaming toddler is actually secretly a spy, and the child is their cover story! But the spy lady is regretting everything in her life now. She can hack into any computer ever, but she can not hack a child and tell them to behave. The man lingering by the penguins is staring at them because he's thinking about a lover who was lost at sea! The kid popping bubblegum in the corner has parents who are going through a very messy and very dramatic divorce, and they came to the aquarium to escape the fighting. The lady in the giant hat is having a secret affair!

He is so bored.

Jazz also observes, and notices people. Notices their behavior, their motives, their patterns. The caretaker with the Tuesday shift get nervous with loud sudden movements, so Jazz is careful to be small and gentle when it's his turn to feed him. Because if he is small and gentle, then the Tuesday Caretaker will give him a small smile back and sometimes, he'll spend a little extra time talking to him while feeding him, telling him about his classes or about whatever game he's playing for the week. The teenager regular, who must be one of the staff's kids to be able to come so often, loves it when he puts on a little show, playing up his cuteness, and acting playful. She stays longer when he does so, and that means that she stays long enough to meet with one of the cleaning staff members that she's friends with. THIS leads to them greeting each other, and the janitor leaving his cleaning cart unattended, and if Jazz is verrrrry careful, he can snatch one of the chemicals from the cart before the janitor notices. The night guard on Fridays is lazy and always leaves his shift a little early than he should, which means Jazz has less time to get back to his tank on those days.

Jazz notices it all.

There's little else he can do BUT observe.

Jazz probably fidgets and stims a lot too. Idle tapping of his fingers, splashing his tail into the water absentmindedly, humming notes to made up music, or snatches of songs he's memorized, making nonsense noises to himself, tearing up bits of his environment, like peeling paint or crumbling plastic rock.

He tries to stave off the Empty and the Fog, he DOES, but it doesn't always work. Some days, the Fog wins and he just.. floats. Listlessly. Bored. He's so sick of it all, and he's so tired.

He's heard about depression from the college interns and he's pretty sure that's what he has. Lack of stimulation, isolated, and bored bored BORED. Plus, there's that small deal with him being FUCKING TRAPPED AND HELPLESS TO THE WHIMS OF A PEOPLE WHO DON'T SEE HIM AS A PERSON. So you know. He's probably depressed. The Empty is probably the depression. Yippee.

He just wants to go home.

please.

[houseminyard]

post reading tgr thoughts (SPOILERS BELOW!)

wow. okay. what can i say.

i will admit that reading this has entirely changed my viewpoint of jerejean despite there being zero romantic interaction throughout - do you know how difficult that is. do you. it somehow manages to be just as raw as andreil without being a direct copy. jeremy and jean's fits of jealousy all throughout, their quiet eagerness to defy the other in order to provoke a reaction, the blunt honesty, the tension and hesitation... chef's KISS CHEF'S KISS !!!!!!! i'm on the jeremy knox / jerejean TRAIN now and i'm HAPPY ABOUT IT

i really did appreciate the heavy focus on jean and his healing, as well as the exploration of jeremy's backstory.. jean's progress is so realistic and not at all rushed, not dragged on either.. it's so refreshing to see a genuine healing arc that could SO happen in real life. it's so… the callbacks to tsc and the original trilogy… they have me so dead…

also KEVJEAN CONFIRMATION (AT LEAST ONE SIDED) ????? my life will never be the fucking SAME what do you MEAN you want him dead but you don't

i will say. my one gripe. thea muldani i'm sorry. kevin x thea in the year of our lord 2025… i refuse… i so thought this was leading up to kevjerejean i really did. i can and will appreciate her turning her back on the ravens in such an in-character fashion - and done brilliantly - but that man is gay. i'm sorry but this is just my opinion with no actual backing

[charlie-pippin-faraday]

you know...there's a chance sayaka's murder plan might've actually worked if she hadn't targeted somebody so fucking athletic. like, leon was one of the best athletes in the country and given a damn title because he was so athletic. he himself admitted he was the best player on his team despite hardly even trying, he was so gifted. i understand why sayaka targeted him - we saw him trying to impress her with his musical aspirations/"talents" earlier in the chapter, and he definitely seemed the most likely to be swayed by a summons from her. but like girl you didn't foresee that it might be difficult to overpower a renowned athlete? sure, he's not SUPER tall (5'9") or super heavy (148 lbs - about average for his height but light for a baseball player), but he was strong and had excellent reflexes. not to mention that she herself is pretty dainty. like there were a LOT of flaws in the "i'm going to surprise him and overpower him" plan when the target she chose was a damn ultimate athlete

so the hypothetical question is: could the plan have worked if she'd targeted someone else? let's look over the options. given who she is and what her general plan was, it feels obvious that she was going to target a boy, because boys are generally a little bit more swayed by her. so our non-leon options include byakuya, hifumi, taka, mondo, hiro, and makoto (no one knew chihiro was a boy at this point, so chihiro isn't included in the list). we can take makoto off the list, since he's the one she was trying to frame. byakuya and taka i don't believe would have actually responded to her summons each for different reasons (taka because it's against their decided-upon rules to be out at night and also a boy and a girl being in each other's rooms at night is "unwholesome" according to his own words lol, and byakuya cause he simply wouldn't give a shit and also would not think it was a good idea to listen - evidenced by him not responding to sakura's similar summons in chapter 4), so they would not be good options. mondo is a pretty huge and muscular dude who had exhibited some aggression and anger issues at this point (we all remember him knocking makoto out cold on day 1), so there's no way she ever would've chosen him as a target

which leaves us with hiro and hifumi as the options. and honestly...i think either of the two might've worked. yes, hiro is notably taller than leon (6'0"), and hifumi has a considerable size advantage on sayaka. but neither of them are athletic. hifumi obviously, and while hiro is pretty tall he never displayed any particular athletic prowess and in a later chapter it's shown that he is indeed susceptible to being snuck up on. i think they both would've responded to her letter and shown up - hiro ended up doing exactly that twice in later chapters (3 and 4), and hifumi later fell for and was manipulated by celeste's feminine charms AND in sayaka's murder trial said "who could resist the charms of the ultimate pop sensation?" (or something along those lines) so i'm positive both would've shown up at her summons for one reason or another. as for her actually sneaking up on them and overpowering them when the time came...it's possible. hifumi can't react quickly and could not run away fast, so she's got a shot if she can stab the right part on his body. not to mention he hated the idea of hurting girls or whatever so he might not have fought back anyway. hiro has proven he can run alright but his reflexes probably aren't the best and he can be snuck up on, and he's also on the stupid side, so if she gets the jump on him it's possible she can do it. this is all assuming she doesn't ultimately chicken out no matter who it is

so i actually really do think her murder plan might've worked if she'd chosen a different target, particularly one of those two. and then the whole of the DR universe is irreparably changed

[artanogon]

thinking more about being trans

[anza-redstar]

She had listened like an iceberg while he told the story he had prepared, and then—well, she didn’t actually call him a liar, but she gave him to understand in a general sort of way that if he and Dr. Cook ever happened to meet, and started swapping stories, it would be about the biggest duel on record.

Unexpected current-interest crossover: this P.G. Wodehouse story just took a side on Dr. Frederick Cook's claim to have reached the North Pole in 1908.

[deathsmallcaps]

Replying to tags but then I ran out of room and I think i was if not cooking then at least microwaving

#dude when I was in 6th grade I read #the veldt #and at the time it disgusted and genuinely scared me because I was #just so surprised that people - children! - could be raised to be so heartless #idk if I read it for the first time as a 23 year old it would scare me so much #but goddamn

#I think we're both people who are *at least* good at literacy but we're both a little too STEMmy #to look at it the way some English teachers want us to? #like they want people to go from 'damn that's fucked up → what themes are the authors trying to explore here → what about the world #made them think of that and perhaps what are they trying to get us to consider and think about and perhaps change' #obviously not all writing is a fable with a moral at the end #but a lot of good writing has some sort of central belief that it wants the reader to consider

#(I struggle in creating that with my fiction ugh and I think a lot of booktok books do too and it bugs me that we have that connection)

#but anyway #I think you and I'd first reactions are like #’that's horrible → how can we prevent that specific problem from occurring again' #like take the lottery. my (and maybe your?) first reaction is like 'that's horrible → they should ban the lottery' #but the English teacher is going to want us to think 'oh gee okay so this is a commentary on traditions. why would this tradition be started #/necessary? does the lottery reflect the overall morals and sensibilities of the overall society (aka fond of the death penalty etc). #what sort of tradition might this mirror today? connecting to historical events and the fact that the person stoned and the author were #women. aka the gender commonly stoned for witchcraft in New England #do you think that's related?' etc etc etc wrapped in metaphors and shit. and tbh that's how I learned a lot of my religious and political #philosophy as well as history. I really like Thomas swift's 'a modest proposal' (satire) for that reason.

but that was NOT my initial #thought process for English class. I had to be heavily trained into thinking that way and often my first instinct is to not engage with the #metaphor an just go straight to the logic/sensible answer. blah blah blah. I really respect lit and history teachers as a profession but boy #do I not want to teach it because I would be so slack on writing the kinds of questions that would get the kids to engage with the meta. #once I got a piece I got it but it was a struggle every damn time. because I had to get over my feelings of well why didn't they just not #do that'

the biggest one I can think of is 'song of Solomon' by Toni Morrison. I think my senior AP English teacher wanted us to really #consider authors and characters of color (he was white but it was 2018-2019 aka Trump era) so he taught us othello and TM. othello is a #little easier to understand because iago is just being a little bitch about a Black foreigner getting a promotion and a hot wife and no longer being able to convince himself that he was better than Othello

But TM’s main character Milkman? Unlikeable, spoiled little shit who doesn’t give a damn that he’s the 1 percent of his marginalized community and he’s frittering his privileges away so hard that it literally induces suicidal and murderous tendencies into the people around him. Among other things.

It took me foreverrrrrr to engage with the text beyond GOD I HATE THIS GUY but once I was able to examine his psychology and the mean flip side of ‘if you want to fly, you have to get rid of earthly attachments’, which he does at the end of the story.

Was it a chore? Absolutely. But have I ever forgotten the story or the literary tools it gave me? No.

Maybe I’m just speaking for myself in this longass response - you and I usually talk animals and men not books 😅 - but yeah every English class is full of these annoying stories that are meant to rattle one’s brain and I REALLY avoid rattling lmao. Tbqh again I respect lot classes but I’m glad they’re over lmao

But anyways I listened to Levar Burton’s podcast ‘Levar Burton Reads’ from start to finish, and he once read (as a three parter) Toni Morrison’s Recitatif. It’s the story of two girls, one Black one white, who grew up around and with and against each other during the mid 1900s.

I didn’t know what the story was getting at, aside from the surface ideas of the American Civil Rights Movement and privilege and stuff. But LB usually asked questions or briefly mentioned the author’s main idea at the end. And when he did? HOLY FUCK.

If you ever decide to listen to it (I’ve never gotten my hands to a print copy so idk if they usually have some sort of author’s note at the end to ask the reader this question)(I love LB’s voice he’s a pleasure to listen to if you listen to Recitatif) please @ me and tell me if it also blew your mind and made you consider how you viewed the POV character of the story.

Because it blew my mind and made me really consider why I assumed things about the pov character. Im not going to say anything further because I feel like I’m spoiling the point but yeah.

Anyways again this could be just me but I’ve always had trouble moving on from the straight solution mindset. When I was 12 I was in a model UN and I was told to write a report about Togo and its healthcare issues. I took this to mean that I had to research the common issues there (such as unclean water and mosquito bite diseases) and then come up with solutions.

It was incredibly embarrassing to do all that and then hear every other group explain their countries healthcare issues and WHY (historically, monetarily, etc) their countries struggled with such things. And my ass went up there and talked about affordable mosquito deterrent changes to water sources and cheap water cleaning services.

I didn’t realize it then but like. It perfectly exemplified my lack of instinct to subtextually interact with instructions and prompts.

And the thing is. May the universe bless and boost the fucking lit teachers out there because my poor students are entering math class with lit skills 6 grades under where they should be and are genuinely unable to interact with straightforward STEM instructions. My college had every ed major take a ‘teaching literacy’ class and sure I passed but the thing is. I’m not really the person that’s supposed to catch these kids on that subject. I’m supposed to be a secondary math teacher. So a lot of the advice in that class simply wasn’t applicable and I wish it was!!! I’d be happy to help in that subject but also I WAS TRAINED TO BE A MATH TEACHER. AND MOST LITERACY AND LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY COURSES ARE NOT DESIGNED WITH STEM IN MIND. (Which is why I want to learn enough Spanish that I can teach kids learning English math as well because that’s an area that doesn’t get a lot of crossover and a lot of kids fall through).

Well this turned into a ramble goodnight lmao. I’d say this was a decently microwaved thought track lol

[falleninthesnow]

i saw nosferatu 2024 today and that was not in dracula 😭😭😭😭

[bloomeng]

This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)

(image updated: 9/21/24)

I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.

Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories it can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.

This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)

Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.

Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.

(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)

The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.

This is a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rogues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.

Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title stripped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”

In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.

Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)

Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.

So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.

To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.

But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.

Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.

Things I haven’t figured out:

- what each of the batfam’s weapons are

- what each of the magical artifacts are

- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as

Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifact wielders.”

- how the wonderfam fits into this

I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could to see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”

Fin… for now.

[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]

Current designs:

[risuola]

I — NOT YET // When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

contents: smut, mafia!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words

a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm.

Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

[calypsocolada]

they think they lost you... ft. sanemi, rengoku, obanai, giyu, tengen, & hotaru

authors note: holy cow this was a lot of writing but i fear i may have done a good job. i hope you all enjoy this angst :)

cw: lots of mention of blood and gore, suggestive, angst, not proofread apologies

wc: 6.8k

click here for my masterlist

Sanemi isn’t able to speak. He'd never felt more anger in his life as he searched the charred remains of the mansion. A hopeless sort of desperation slowly nudging his anger to the back of his mind as he almost frantically tossed debris out of his way. His eyes searched everything they could, he left no stone unturned and only when all hope had been lost had he taken a step back.

You two paired up for this mission against Sanemi’s wishes of course. He’d been cold to you ever since you became a Hashira. Ignored you at every turn and when he couldn’t outright ignore you he was outwardly rude. Saying things about your position, how you weren’t strong enough to be fighting beside him, let alone any other hashira. Things that burnt you to your core. A part of you didn’t want to care about him. Didn’t want to linger on his vile words but you found yourself trying to prove him wrong at every turn. Trying to prove to him that you belonged. That you were strong enough to fight alongside him. It was stupid. It was idiotic. But you couldn’t help yourself. So when the chance to pair up with Sanemi arose you snatched it up with pleasure. 

He didn’t talk to you the entire train ride to your destination. You tried sparking some small conversation but… he just wasn’t having it. Not wanting to evoke his anger, you let him be, you lapsed into silence. You let him spend the rest of the ride alone in the suite as you explored the train, landing a seat in the little cafe until your platform was announced. Sanemi met you at the train door and gave you a withering look as he led the way off. For a moment you paused. You could let the door close right now, let the train carry you away. Let this week not be wasted on a man like him. 

But you stepped off the train.

The ashes of the mansion dusts up around Sanemi as he kicks the nearest pillar causing it to crack under his ire. You followed him off the train. He stayed spiteful to you. Why in the hell did you follow him? Sanemi felt the endless pit of anger in his stomach grow. You followed him into this mansion despite his warnings. You fought well. You fought violently and when Sanemi felt backed into a corner you helped him out of it at the cost of your life. This was the exact fucking reason he was so cold to you. The exact reason he kept his distance. The coldness inside of him was warmed just by your mere presence and he hated it. He hated that the mere thought of you and the mere sight of you weakened his deposition. You made him weak and you made him sloppy. You evicted his better judgment and filled his thoughts with only images and moments he’s shared with you. You’d never know this though because he never once let even the slightest amount of want slip through the cracks. He was a tight ship and he hated himself for it. Because all his work amounted to nothing. All his attempts to scare you into another avenue, another way of life and it all didn’t matter. You were dead and you’d never know just how much he cared. 

Sanemi felt the aching start in his chest. A deep bone rattling ache that made him physically reach up and place a hand over his heart. He was bereft. He was speechless and angry and couldn’t fathom that your last moments were wasted saving someone like him. He could hear the spiraling of his thoughts, their downturn. Honestly… he wasn’t quite sure if he could live with himself after this. 

“Shinazugawa!” A voice chirped, clipped and quick. Then again. He turned and the sight was something that almost took out his knees. The utter relief that flushed over him turned his stomach and healed the ache in his chest. You limped your way towards him, your hand still gripping your broken sword. There was a shit eating grin on your lips as you waved your sword at him. “I saved your life, you absolute asshole!” You yelled, coughing slightly as you slowed your pace. Sanemi didn’t answer your words. He almost said he could kill you for scaring him so deeply but with the possibility still real and tangible in his mind it was something he couldn’t speak aloud. He walked forwards without words, none of them would come out right no matter how it was spoken. You slowed down at his quick pace and something flashed across your face moments before he yanked your stubborn ass into a lip smashing kiss. You stumbled back at the force of it only for Sanemi’s ash covered hands to slide around your hips and yank you into him.

~

It was beyond Rengoku’s scope that you’d been taken from him. The indomitable spirit within him wasn’t allowing him to accept the very real fact that you could be dead. That no matter how hard he fought there were things beyond his control. Things that could be taken from him. Even when he held on with the utmost of his might. 

Rengoku had happily asked you to accompany him on his mission. You weren’t a demon slayer, just a nice girl he met in a village diner a few years back. 

He’d seen you in the kitchen, watched you from his diner booth. Watched you wipe sweat off your brow as you fixed food so effortlessly, tendrils of hair around your face like vines of ivy. He couldn’t look away, even when a nice waitress brought him his food and it sat slowly losing its warmth. He’d made a habit of coming to the diner as often as he could and it wasn’t for the food, obviously… 

The first speaking interaction you two shared was a quick moment as you passed by. He met your eyes and you paused. Your town was pretty normal, most people around her dressed in darker colors and lots of layers due to the colder climate, hair usually one of three or four colors so seeing a man with loud two toned hair and fiery garb had stopped you in your tracks, though this wasn’t the first time you’d seen him it still gave you some pause. That was until you remembered your father telling you about the hashira that had been stopping by a few times a week. You minded your manners and gave the man a soft smile.

“Enjoying your food?” You knew the answer, this man usually ate ten to fifteen bowls in one sitting. He was currently on his seventh bowl when you ventured out of your spot to take a little break outside. The man’s mouth was full so he gave an enthusiastic nod of his head as you breathed out a soft laugh through your nose. “Good to hear.”  You said demurly, walking your way towards the front door. 

Rengoku searched the depths of the forest, he called out your name relentlessly, He listened intently. He searched for hours.He’d search for days for years if needed. He’d run himself ragged, he’d tear through the leaves, he’d overturn mountains, he’d tear down the sky in search of you. He’d find you too. There was something about the determination in him that would fight off the improbability that you could really be gone. If there was even the slimmest, smallest chance he could find you, that he could save you he’d traverse the depths of hell and back. He’d do it all for you. 

Rengoku popped his head out into the cold to follow you outside. He hadn’t followed you after the first time you spoke to him but he decided a few days later he wanted to talk more with you. Not usually given the chance while you were hard at work You sat on a bench on the side of the diner, shielded by the overhang as snow flurried around you. Rengoku wasn’t used to the cold but just the sight of you brought warmth to his bones. You turned your head at the door being pushed open and offered him a polite smile. Rengoku returned your smile, wide and bright. 

“Morning.” You greeted.

“Good morning.” Rengoku returned eagerly. You moved over, sharing your space as Rengoku greedily took your offer and sat beside you. The first thing you noticed about this man was his warmth. You grew up in the cold with a colder family. Rengoku’s smiles and radiating kindness was something foreign to you. Foreign but wholly welcomed and intriguing. For a few days after he sat beside you it started to be a sort of regular occurrence, he’d find you, you’d offer him a seat you two would talk. The normality set in quite quickly and you began to look forward to the moments you two shared on your little breaks. You found yourself drawn to him like a freezing body drawn to a roaring fire. Before you knew it things were serious, he took you away from that cold town, away from uncaring parents into a stable environment. He filled you with love and soon enough the dregs of your past were slowly forgotten. And when you begged him to let you tag along on just one of his missions he was unable to turn you down. 

So as he searched for you now he didn’t have a moment to cry. To let out his emotions. He wouldn’t let himself grieve. He hadn’t lost you yet. 

“Kyojuro…” Your voice was small but there was no way in hell he’d let it go unheard. He called out to you again and waited. He heard his name once more and ran with ungodly speed towards the lips that had spoken it. When he found you it was like seeing you for the first time all over again. You parted your lips, most likely to apologize for letting the demon separate you two but Regoku swept you up in a hug, spinning the both of you around. His hands held you tightly as you smiled, breathing out in relief. For a moment, lost in the pines, you felt that cold creeping in. But once again this man fought it out and won.

~

You staggered, your wounds opening as you pushed out through the trees. You felt the warmth of oozing blood staining your uniform. Losing your footing you crashed into the forest flooring, the pain making you see white momentarily. You tried to push to your feet but you were unable.

Obanai was fast through the trees, he was quiet, precise. He killed the left over straggler demons without remorse, without a second thought. He sliced cleanly and kept moving. You two had been separated for too long and Obanai couldn’t help but assume the worst. Assume that he’d lost you and due to his negligence would never see you again. He found part of your haori in the hand of a slain demon. He ripped the scrap away from its hand and held it tightly between his fingers, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest.

You had managed to finally get to your knees, you sat there for a moment. Rain had started to pour, freezing rain that soaked you completely through. Against all odds you got to your feet, you trudged forwards towards a clearing, back the way you and Obanai had previously been separated. 

Obanai enjoyed nights like these. Cold and quiet. With rain pouring against the roof of Kagaya’s mansion. He’d stopped here to give a report but the rain poured so heavily he was asked to stay over for the night before taking a trek back to his own home. Likewise you were in the same position and out of all the hashira to be stuck with Obanai would be your last choice. You found him terribly scary. He was standoffish with mannerisms much like his white snake that always perched itself on his shoulders. You weren’t necessarily a fan of snakes, nor a fan of the man that had one as a pet. But the people pleaser in you kept what little conversations you two shared, well more of you talked and he possibly, possibly not listened. 

You found yourself in a similar situation tonight like many other nights. That damned snake always found its way to you, startling you into a choked scream. Embarrassed, you clapped a hand to your mouth, not wanting to wake Kagaya and his family. Pretty much every time you were forced to interact with Obanai it was after he’d come looking for his snake that, without fault, found its way to you everytime.

“H-hello Kaburamaru.” You greeted as the white slithering thing made its way closer to you. You felt your heart in your throat as the creature raised its head as though to greet you back. You swallowed as it lowered itself and slithered towards you again. You stepped back, softly blowing out a stressed breath as it wrapped around your leg and made its way up and up until it was around your own shoulders. A part of you hated this but another part felt sort of… excited, almost honored that this creature chose to climb on you. Kaburamaru’s head sort of nuzzles against your cheek as you hear the backdoor to Kagaya’s kitchen slide open. You’d been eating a late night snack when the snake found you. Your probably wide eyes met Obanai’s as he stepped inside. He takes in the scene, his hand paused on the handle of the door. “H-he always seems to find me doesn’t he?” You ask, attempting lighthearted banter with the dark spectral that was Obanai. His two toned eyes meet yours. His black hair was slightly damp from the rain and he wasn’t in his usual haori but instead some casual clothes. You cleared your throat after he didn’t answer, after realizing you were staring at him. “It’s like he likes me or something.” You say as Kaburamaru nuzzles you again and you swear the creature nods its small head. Obanai doesn’t answer, just walks forwards and holds out an arm. It takes a moment for you to realize he’s extending a branch for Kaburamaru and you feel slightly sad as the creature slithers off of your shoulders, leaving them bare. Obanai wordlessly makes his way back to his room. “G-goodnight.” You call after him. No response.

Obanai stopped in a clearing, slowing. He felt… disheartened. Kaburamaru hadn’t perked up since the moment he last saw you and the last time was… well it was bad to say the least. You were injured, far worse than you tried to let on. Obanai didn’t want to push, he just wanted to get you out of this damned forest in one piece. But he’d been searching for over an hour, he couldn’t sense you at all. He’d called out to you time and time again but only the sound of trees rustling responded. That’s when he spotted something, something unmoving and still at the edge of the clearing.  

You sat beside him the next morning. Kagaya and his family had left earlier, leaving only you two. You were an early riser. You fixed breakfast and just as you finished Obanai stirred awake. WIth messy hair he walked groggily into the kitchen, yawning. When you first looked at him you almost didn’t notice but then you did. Usually he had a white bandage around the entire bottom half of his face below his nose. Usually. But he must’ve been entirely exhausted because that bandage was nowhere to be found. You didn’t let your eyes linger, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

“M-morning.” You greeted in the same sort of nervous cadence you always greeted him in. He didn’t respond as he gathered his things. “I made breakfast.” You said.

“I see that.” He answered, his voice clearer than you’d ever heard it. You swallowed, feeling silly. 

“I made enough for two.” You added and watched his hand pause. He then suddenly slaps a hand over his mouth and wordlessly leaves the room. He must’ve noticed in a reflection. You fixed two plates in his short absence and two cups of green tea. Obanai appeared a few moments later with his bandage in place, Kaburamaru on his shoulders and his bag packed. “Wait… you should eat something before you go.” You say and when he doesn’t respond you just stop. You stop talking, stop trying to be his friend. He wrenches open the front door of the mansion. 

“Obanai,” You called out one last time. He pauses and turns as you walk up to him. You packed the breakfast into a little container, you held it out to him. “At least take it to go.” You say. He stares at you, eyes scrutinizingly sharp and you felt like he could see right through your skin to your innards.

“You saw my scars.” He started coldly. Your lips part in surprise as your eyes rise up to his. You give a simple sort of solemn nod of the head to him. His snake eyes cut to the container in your hands, the stare lingered there for a moment before rising back up. “You shouldn’t be nice to me.” He says. You can’t help but furrow your brows slightly.

“Hm?”

“You should be disgusted.” He says as though your reaction to his scars is something strange. You suck in a quiet breath, thinking about the right words to say at this moment.

“I’m not.”

Rain pelted against Obanai as he ran to you. You were slumped against a tree, blood staining your uniform. He didn’t waste a single second, he scooped your limp cold body into his arms and set out at a breakneck pace towards the way you two had previously entered the forest. There was a village doctor and Obanai would get you to him in record time. He wouldn’t lose you. Not after figuring out just how important you were to him. Not after sharing moments and nights and stories. You knew of his past, he’d told you everything over the few months after you’d seen his scars. All that shit that weighed him down, that haunted him you had listened to and bore some of its weight, easing things up for him a bit. He felt lighter with you around. He felt seen, he felt heard. And most of all… he felt loved. Care for even. You deserved everything you’d given to him, tenfold. He took you to shelter, he held your hand through the worst of it and sat at your bedside until you woke up hours later.

“That was one tough bastard of a demon.” Were the first words you’d spoken the next morning. Obanai had a crick in his neck from sleeping uncomfortably in the chair next to your bed. With snake-like grace and ease he rose from his chair and was sitting on your bed in mere seconds. You gaped at him as his hands slid against your cheeks, cupping them as he pulled you to him and pressed his forehead against yours. A gentle and tender gesture. He didn’t even need to tell you how bad you’d scared him, you understood it in the slight tremble of his fingers as he held your face.

~

It was happening again, just before Giyu's eyes. That fresh pain of revelation sat familiar and heavy in the pit of his stomach. He’d watch someone he’d loved risk it all before and lose. He couldn’t watch that again.  

Not after all you two had been through. 

Through ups and downs. You were just as much of a pained soul as he was. You’d lost about the same as him. Where he resorted to quiet you resorted to anger. It was something to be worked on but Giyu had never known anyone stronger than you. The loneliness inside him had reached out greedily for the smallest bit of warmth you had to offer and vice versa. You two had found solace in one another. A quiet comprehension and understanding. He’d begun to rely on you. You’d begun to trust him. You two had formed something not many hashira could keep. A simple thing that had been ripped away from almost every single one of you. Love. Something so pure and simple. You lost your family and after a lot of hardships and shutting yourself off from the world Giyu had found his way through your walls. He wormed his way into your heart and although you were wholly reluctant at first in the end you realized that life was just entirely too short to keep behind shackled walls. 

It wasn’t easy. You were easily scared off to relationships let alone the absolute devotion Giyu showed you. It was hard to stick beside him when you were so damn scared you’d lose him one day. It was just a recurring curse that always struck you when you least expected it. It was as though loving and losing was just a prophecy to be fulfilled. Giyu stood strong. He never wavered in the face of your fear. He stayed by your side even when you screamed and yelled for him to leave. He never raised his voice, he stayed on the path. The path being you. Because everytime you’d leave, or storm away, or get scared to your core he showed restraint to his own fears. He was as afraid of losing you as you were of losing him. But he didn’t push you away, in fact that only made him pull you closer. 

“One of us will die, leaving the other. So what’s the point, Tomioka? This will only serve to hurt us.” You had said teary eyed one day in the beginning of your relationship. For a few weeks you two wrestled with your feelings and it resulted in Giyu kissing you. It changed everything because from that point on you craved more. You hated it too. To crave someone so deeply knowing one day you’d lose them. 

“That’s true.” He said softly then. He’d reached for you, taking your hand, gently kissing your knuckles. You bit your lip, your cheeks flushed. Giyu was always like this when you were alone, around others you could never figure what he was thinking but alone he let you know exactly the scope of his thoughts and feelings. “But I’d rather be with you than not.” He answered as if it was really just that simple. He started kissing his way up your hand to your wrist, past your wrist up your arm. You swallowed dryly and when you turned your face towards him he kissed your lips. That terrible flip in your stomach came and the fear that wracked your brain over things out of your control slowly washed away. 

You killed them demon. It was an upper rank that surprised you both. It had Giyu at one point, had him by the throat as its jaws opened to finish a thing that wasn’t a person to it. That was until you swooped in, you knocked Giyu out of the way to safety and took the battle alone on your shoulders. Giyu was gravely injured and the moment he hit the ground he lost consciousness. The last thing he'd seen was the flash of the moon glinting off your chipped sword then nothing at all. When he woke up all was quiet. He’d sat up achingly quick. Blood rushed to his head making him dizzy as he searched for you. The demon you had killed was slowly dusting away in front of you. Giyu pushed to his feet and limped his way over to you, only pausing for a moment to watch your sword fall from your grasp. His breath caught in his throat. All those nightmares of his dying in front of you were in vain because your fear ricocheted to him. About fifty yards from you Giyu watched as you crumpled to the ground, still and lifeless. Giyu tripped over himself to get to you and in his haste reopened the slowly healing wounds on his body. He didn’t care, no amount of pain could stop him from reaching you. The closer he got the better he could see your weakened state. There was so much blood, your hair was stained red from the color of it.

“Hey… hey---” His voice was strained and weak, choked up from the sight of you. His hands slide on either side of your face. You felt him touch you and immediately opened your eyes. Although you looked close to the grave it turned out that after your almost hour long fight to the death that really you weren’t as bad off as it looked. You were just fucking exhausted. You smiled up at him. 

“Hey.” You breathed out and the absolute relief on Giyu’s face brought fresh tears to your eyes. 

“You scared me.” He barked, not necessarily loud but you could tell with the way he slumped down against you, hugging you tightly that your dramatic fall to the ground had his heart in his throat.

“Sorry.” You apologized, gently sitting up and wrapping your arms around him. He kissed the side of your head and pulled back, kissing your lips.

“You saved me.” He spoke against your lips. You smiled.

“Uh huh.” You mumbled, missing the press of his lips already. “Let’s get out of this damned forest.”

~

Tengen wasn’t someone that hides his feelings. In fact to the effect where it was always known that he was in love with you. That this thing you said made him laugh or the way you trained made him proud or the way you killed demons made him flush. All those factors were something you weren’t new to but still caught you off guard every time. All these compliments, his kisses and time spent with you was something you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to but… slowly you were starting to look forward to it all. He’d first kissed you after begging you to choose going on a mission with him rather than Giyu and after that any moment you two were alone things dissolved into flicked off lights, warm exploring hands and heated kisses. This had been a recurring thing for weeks with no end in sight. But neither of you wanted it to end and although Tengen was the more outspoken of the two of you, your quiet confirmation was all he needed to push you against the backs of doors and kiss you senseless. 

But that’s all you let it be. Against Tengen’s multiple attempts to make it something serious you’d just shut it down. He’d ask you to accompany him on missions but you’d say no. He’d be gone for weeks and write to you but you wouldn’t write back but the moment he’d darken your doorstep again you’d grab a fistful of his shirt and yank him inside. He could tell you missed him through the way you touched him but that’s all he had to go on. You never slipped up when it came to revealing things you kept close to your heart. Revealing how you truly felt was a well kept secret behind locks and vaults and ciphers. You were a riddle that Tengen was driving himself mad to solve. But Tengen was shameless, he didn’t care if he had to beg and plead on your closed doors because just an ounce of your attention was flashy enough for him. 

That’s why when you finally agreed to go on a mission he felt as though it was you finally giving him some ground to stand upon. And he accepted it greedily. You weren’t a Hashira like him, you were Gyomei’s tsuguko and although you wouldn’t tell Tengen this, Gyomei had asked you to accompany Tengen. Though you wouldn’t also tell anyone that you wanted to come every time he’d asked you before but wouldn’t allow yourself. It wasn’t that you were afraid of commitment because people could come and go in your life all they pleased. It was more of the fact that you already felt tenfold of what Tengen probably felt for you. You cared for him so much that it affected a lot of your training. So much so that Gyomei sent you away on this mission because of how frustrated he was hearing you mope around the house waiting for Tengen to stumble on the doorstep. You couldn’t travel together though for circumstances out of your control and when you finally made it to the entertainment district almost an all out war was being waged.

Tengen sat, unable to stand, his wives surrounding him as the poison in his blood had finally been cured thanks to Nezuko. He was one arm short and short of one girl that he’d make his wife one day. Hinata had taken the other two wives out to look for you in the rubble of the district after Inosuke had told them you had helped decapitate that female demon. But the aftershock had separated you into disappearing from the rest of the group. Tengen tried to push to his feet but held no strength in his limbs whatsoever. The pain of the fight was nothing compared to being stuck unable to look for you. Then it only got worse when he saw a flash of your hair and realized you were being carried. It was Obanai that found you, he’d got here late after all the destruction and stumbled upon you. Tengen sat up, his wounds screaming as Obanai carried you closer. You weren’t moving. He called out but his voice was strained as Obanai met with some of the medics, handing you off to them. You still didn’t move. Tengen was in absolute hell watching this. He pushed to his feet and fell back to his knees, the pain so striking it brought fresh tears to his eyes. But he persevered. He got to the medic who’d set you on a makeshift stretcher, carefully inspecting your wounds. He jumped at the sight of Tengen.

“M-Mr. Tengen!” He was startled. “Y-you should be sitting down.” Tengen dropped to his knees, he reached for your hand, it was cold in his grasp. Your face was pale, a large slashed cut stretching across your brow down the side of your face. Your uniform was stained in soot and blood. But the only thing that kept Tengen from losing his mind was the steady slow rise and fall of your chest. You were alive and you were breathing. The relief was like a punch to the stomach and it seemed the search for you was the only thing keeping him awake because the moment he realized you’d be okay Tengen fell unconscious beside you.

When he woke up he was in a room alone. He felt better, though his body still ached he pushed out of the bed. He traversed the halls of the butterfly mansion, outside he saw his wives eating, he smiled at the sight of them. He kept going, looking for one more person, one more thing he’d been craving. When he pushed open the door to the training room he felt weak in the knees. It was as though you weren’t even affected. You trained mercilessly, sword swinging expertly. You paused, turning at the sound of the door opening and met Tengen’s eyes.

“You’re awake.” You greeted, voice light. Tengen didn’t waste another damn second. He was across that room in the blink of an eye. Sweeping you up into his arms, hugging you tightly as he spun you around. “Careful!” You called out, amusement in your tone. “You’re still healing.” 

“Don’t care.” He breathed out, setting you down, arms sliding down against your waste as he and his giant body leaning into your space, lips meeting lips. 

“I care.” You mumble against his lips. He kisses you hard at that. It’s not often you expressed a liking for him outloud. 

“That’s good to hear.” He kissed past your mouth down to your neck as he hugged you tightly again, lips kissing at whatever they could find.

“Uzui.” You warned. “Lots of people walking around.”

“Don’t care.” 

“I care you big oaf.” You snap but your tone is light, still amused. Tengen raised his head.

“Come home with me and the wives.” He asks, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head.

“Hm,” You hum as he pulls back, so tall you have to crane your head to meet his eyes. “Feeling sentimental?”

“Most of the time, yes.” He answers simply. “I want you. I want to be with you, I want you home with me. Please… say yes this time.” He can tell you’re thinking about it so he lowers his head and presses another kiss to your forehead, sweet and tender.

~

Hotaru first kissed you a few months back. It was a startling and confusing moment. You’d traveled to his village for a new sword scared out of your mind because you’d broken a sword. You stupidly asked a competitor of his to fix it, hoping to save yourself from his wrath. But Hotaru caught you in the act and instead of being outwardly angry… he kissed you. And this simple act changed everything. It changed how you perceived all your interactions after that day. His competitor had referred to you as Hotaru’s favorite and you hadn’t been able to wipe that from your mind since. You hadn’t seen him since the kiss and you tossed and turned almost every night since just trying to make sense of the moment if there was any sense to be found. Maybe he’d kissed you to shut you up. Maybe he kissed you in a polite way? Like a thanks for keeping him in business kind of kiss? No… that kiss was anything but polite. It was hot. All consuming. It was everything you didn’t expect to come from the man who struck fear in all demon slayers. So despite your better judgment you used the little bit of time off that you had to trudge back to his village. You told everyone you were going there to relax before your new mission but in reality it was to solve the mystery of why he kissed you and why you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Hotaru lived on the outskirts of the village. A bit of a walk from everyone else’s house, It was like he was the town pariah or something. It was dark when you spotted the glow of his parted curtains, his chimney puffing out smoke. It was the dead of winter so you were chilled to the bone, not only at the fact you were about to speak to him after months of silence but also because of the damn snow storm you trekked through to get here. 

As you got to his door you blew out a breath and knocked. But just as you lowered your hand you heard something. A rustle, the movement of steps in the snow. You turned, surveying the area. Maybe a villager kid had followed you up here, interested in the girl that had come to talk to the town's scary ghost. Your eyes scanned the trees as the door opened. You didn’t turn back and that’s when you spotted it, lumbering through the trees, blood dripping into the snow. You turned back, hand flying to your sword. Hotaru stood in the doorway unaware of two things. Why you were here and why you pushed him back and closed the door in his face.

“Stay inside!” You called out to him, your sword in your hand at the ready as the demon busted through the trees towards you. 

The thing was viscous and obviously starving as its jaws opened and latched onto your shoulder. You screamed in pain, hitting it back and slashing violently across the length of its stomach. It was hard to maneuver in your layers of thick winter clothes but you mostly made it work. You fought the demon back away from Hotaru’s house, it’s bloodlust like that of a rabid animal. It snarled and growled and slashed at you, slashing up your clothes and your face. When you were finally able to get the upper hand you wasted no time slicing it’s head from its shoulders. It crumpled into dust and fire, blowing away with the wind. You blew out an exhausted breath, leaning heavily against a tree near you. So much for relaxing. You jolted at the sound of Hotaru’s voice as he called out for you near the treeline. You sighed, pushing off the tree, trudging towards his voice through the snow. 

“That was one tough bastard.” You said as you spotted him. You must’ve looked worse than you felt because Hotaru stumbled his way towards you rather ungracefully. “Careful,” You said as he approached, slamming against you in a tight hug. You gasped in surprise, winded by the force of his body slamming into yours. He hugged the life out of you. Hugged you so tightly you wondered if he was trying to kill you. “It’s okay-- I’m fine.” You breathed out and still he didn’t let up. 

“I heard you scream. I couldn’t find you.” He spoke into your hair, tightening his hold on you just barely. 

“Yeah, it bit me.” You answered nonchalantly. Hotaru pulled back, anger on his face. You sucked in a breath at the look on his face.

“What were you thinking!” He growls, turning and pulling you gently towards his house, despite the anger in his voice he handled you with care. 

“What?” You stuttered.

“You scared the hell outta me.” He says, throwing open his door and pulling you into the warmth of his house. He guides you to the kitchen. “Strip.” He commands and you do as told, kicking off your snow boots and peeling off your layers of clothes, careful around the stinging bite on your shoulder. Hotaru gathered some things, slamming things left and right. You were speechless, his reaction to you saving him was something you weren’t expecting. When he grabbed all he needed he dropped into the seat next to you and you turned to face him.

“Are you mad that I saved you?” You asked and watched his brows furrow. You sighed out heavily, almost exhaustedly. Both his hands slid against your cheeks and in another surprising twist he kissed you. He kissed you so softly and tenderly it had your stomach turning in knots. This man was loud, he was angry most of the time and every single slayer and villager was scared at the mere thought of him. But he was different when he kissed you, it had your entire body lightening on fire. You absentmindedly tried to wrap your arms around the back of his neck only for that bite on your shoulder to remind you with white hot pain. You gasped, sucking in a breath as Hotaru pulled back. He didn’t waste a second placing a rag over the wound, soaking up some of the blood. 

“I’m not angry you saved me.” He said after a moment. “Just mad you got hurt.” 

“I get hurt all the time.” You answer lightly, hoping for some humility but Hotaru doesn’t crack a smile. “It’s just part of being a Hashira.” His gentle hands are patching up your shoulder and he doesn’t say anything for a few long seconds. Once he’s finished he gets up, grabbing a blanket, wrapping it around you to warm you up. He sets back down and pulls your chair closer to his. Your nerves spike at the closeness. 

“You didn’t come all this way for a broken sword right?” He asks, your breath catches as you shake your head. 

“My sword’s fine.” 

“That’s good to hear.” He says, reaching a hand up to tuck your hair back out of your face. “Didn’t visit my competitor first this time?” It’s weird to see him joke but you find yourself relaxing.

“No. I came straight here.” You answer and his hand lingers on your cheek.

“Thanks for saving my life.” He says.

“You’re welco-” He cuts you off with a press of his lips against yours.

[sanemistar]

kissable lips — katsuki b.

contains ★ katsuki (post timeskip) x fem!reader (no pronouns used), fluff, suggestive (+17 only), making out, nothing too explicit but still, very slight swearing, rivals to lovers, 0.8k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ mha m.list

tension filled the surrounding air, sounds of racing heartbeats and heavy breathings echoed through the empty room. you were pinned against the wall as katsuki hovered on top of you, sending shivers all over your back the moment it made contact with the cold surface.

his rough hands gripped your neck tightly, stopping you from writhing and squirming underneath him. keeping you in place as his lips continuously smashed against yours. teeth clashing every time you kissed as he hungrily devoured your lips, not stopping for even a moment to let you breathe. he was forcing you to catch up to his very fast pace, which was quite hard at first. but when you matched his pace, everything felt so heavenly.

you felt his hands move from your neck down to your waist, exploring every inch of your skin. you held onto him tightly for dear life. adrenaline rushed through your blood while your arms securely wrapped themselves around his neck as if it was the most natural thing to do, pulling him even closer as your fingertips ran through the locks of his spiky, blond hair. ruffling it until it became even more disheveled than it was.

if you were told earlier that you'd be here passionately making out with not only one of the best pro heroes, but also your very own rival. you'd simply call it a joke and laugh it off. you just couldn't imagine it happening, not even in your wildest dreams. you two hated each other’s guts, and your only goal was to surpass the other.

however, to your surprise, it happened. and you hated to admit it, but it was far better than you would've ever imagined. you couldn't pinpoint the reason why you were enjoying it, but one thing you knew for sure was that you wanted it, dare to say that you wanted even more. it awakened an unknown desire in you that you’d never known of before, or maybe it had been there all along and you hadn’t noticed until then.

at that moment, the only things that filled your head, occupying your mind completely were thoughts of katsuki and how he held you in his arms as he covered you in kisses, his enticing taste that had you craving for more. your train of thoughts was abruptly cut short when he finally pulled away after what had seemed like an eternity.

your half opened, hazy eyes were caught in his gaze, your lips were all red and swollen, head still dizzy and light. your chest rapidly moved up and down, still trying to catch your breath after having such an intense make-out session.

“katsuki..” his name rolled off your lips in a faint, breathless tone.

your body lost composure and you almost fell to the ground due to your knees getting weak and shaky from all that tension and intensity. you leaned on the wall for support, since you had very little to no strength left to stand on your own.

"shit,” his voice was all low and hoarse, his hot breath fanned against your flushed cheeks as your lips were still slightly parted.

“you moron, if you keep callin’ my name like this while makin’ that face, i might go insane.” he groaned, and your face reddened even more at his words as you wondered what kind of face you were making at that moment.

“why did you of all people have to have the most kissable lips?” katsuki mumbled, but it was loud enough for you to hear. a hint of crimson red was seen on his cheeks as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, it was such a rare sight to see. and you took the time to carve it clearly in the back of your mind.

“hmmm…” you hummed sweetly, your hand traced down to his chest as your fingers ran up and down his shirt, leaving delicate touches. you leaned over and whispered softly against his ears.

“my lips aren’t the only kissable parts i have.”

you knew you were being bold there, a little too bold even. but you wanted to tease him as you tried to push him to his limit, wanting to know what would happen if he were to go insane.

“imma ‘bout to shut you up ‘nd make you regret that fuckin’ cocky attitude of yours.” katsuki was determined to shut you up, and you best believe that he did.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn @stunies @17020 @kalsplace

[helaintoloki]

Hey I want to request something since I saw your request was open. So can you do a fic where five and y/n ( they are already married) end up in the deli with the other fives.

Basically there are only few fives that have a y/n but she's died in their timeline. So basically it's just the other fives wanting to know more about her abd the fives telling their stories of their y/n

Y/n absolutely loves the attention she almost sequeled when she saw the other fives lol.

a/n: so this actually ended up turning into a more depressing piece than i planned LOL but the original intention is there

warnings: language, angst, mentions of death, light amount of fluff

summary: your search for answers leads you to a deli with multiple versions of your husband inside

As the danger of the impending apocalypse finally begins to sink in for Five, he realizes he needs to get you somewhere safe until he figures out a way to stop the world from ending. Thus, while his siblings continued to fight off the monstrous cleanse that was Ben and Jennifer, Five quickly grabbed hold of you and jumped you both to the only place he could think of.

You stumble over your own feet as your body adjusts to being dropped into a new setting, your hand quickly raising to shield your eyes from the bright neons that hang above you as you take in your surroundings. A subway car comes to a screeching halt in front you, and before you can protest Five is quickly ushering you inside.

“Five, where are we?” You demand, completely disoriented from having been transported away from the fight without warning and preoccupied with worry at the thought of your family fighting against the Cleanse without you both present. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you somewhere safe where you can stay until I figure out how to undo this mess,” he instructs you hastily, his lips pulling back into an exasperated frown at your resistance to enter the subway car. He doesn’t have time for you to fight him on this, his siblings need him, and he needs you away from the fight. Though you’re skilled at combat and wickedly smart, you don’t have powers, and Five can’t risk something happening to you while he’s preoccupied with saving the world.

“You’re leaving me?!” You exclaim in distress as panic immediately begins to take over your rational mind. You push against him harder to move away from the train, but despite all your efforts the boy doesn’t budge.

“It’s only temporary, I promise you,” he assures you, and when you shove him hard in the chest once more he tightly takes hold of your hands and brings them to his lips to comfort you. “I’ll take you somewhere nice, somewhere with a beautiful house and a garden full of strawberry bushes. I found it while exploring other timelines in search of clues on how to prevent the apocalypse, I know it’s safe because I went there alone. You can stay in the house until this is all over and I’ll come back for you.”

“Five, what if…” you swallow harshly as tears begin to well in your eyes, your emotions overtaking you at the thought of this being goodbye, “…what if you don’t come back?”

Five refuses to meet your gaze when the question leaves your lips. He’d never lie to you, and he knows he can’t guarantee he’ll live long enough to join you in the peaceful timeline he’d found, but he doesn’t have the heart to voice this to you. How can he look you in your tear filled eyes and tell you that this might be the last time you’ll be together as husband and wife?

Sighing, he releases your hands in exchange for cupping your face so that he may brush away the tears that slide down your warm cheeks. He hopes that one day you’ll be able to understand that every moment leading up to this has been for you, and he would happily die a hundred times over if it meant keeping you safe. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

You open your mouth to argue only to snap it shut when your gaze falls over his shoulder and lands on another figure in the subway. You blink away your tears to get a better view and are left speechless when you realize you’re staring back at the face of your husband.

But how can that be when he’s standing right in front of you?

Noticing your change in demeanor, Five follows your gaze and spots the lookalike that stands across the way from you both. His features contort into confusion as you both watch the second Five offer you a wave in greeting before disappearing down the stairs. Exchanging looks of uncertainty, Five and yourself immediately rush after the doppelgänger to figure out just what exactly is going on.

Your quick chase leads you both to the front doors of a deli, the dazzling sign above welcoming you warmly as you cautiously open the doors and set foot into Max’s despite Five’s protests to wait. If this other Five has the answers you need to return home safely together, then you’ll stop at nothing to get them.

Your originally confident demeanor quickly dwindles when the restaurant becomes deathly silent upon your entry. While you only expected to see one Five, you now find about twenty of them staring intently at you as you slowly walk towards the lookalike from the subway that waves you over to his table. Five is quick to rush after you and place a protective arm around your waist; you’re not the only one unsettled by their stares, and he feels uncharacteristically territorial in the presence of himself.

“Have a seat,” the subway lookalike offers with a gesture towards the empty space across from him, and you’re both quick to slide into the cushions at his command. “I’m glad you found me.”

“What is this place?” Your husband demands impatiently as another Five dressed in a waiter’s uniform approaches your table with three cups of coffee in hand.

“This is where all the Fives come after they decide to give up on figuring out a way to stop the apocalypse.”

As he speaks, a plate of pie is suddenly placed in front of you, and before you can even open your mouth to question it, the waiter offers you wink and assures you, “It’s on the house.”

Picking up the fork, your eyes widen in surprise as you realize what specific dessert has been given to you. Looking up at the Five across from you, you ask, “How did he know that-“

“Pumpkin pie is your favorite?” The lookalike finishes for you with an amused smile before leaning back to take a drink of his coffee. “We all know that, because we all know you.”

“Me?” You repeat quietly, brows drawn together in confusion as you look to your husband who seems rather displeased with all of the attention you’re getting. He never once thought to think of himself as potential competition over you, but it figures. Who better than himself to sweep you off your feet?

“Mind telling me why you all seem to have such a great interest in my wife?” Five demands with a wry smile, eyes blazing with annoyance and a subtle hint of jealousy.

“‘Your’ wife?” The Five behind the deli counter scoffs in amusement. “Take a number, pal.”

“What deli Five means to say is that each and every one of us has our own y/n in our own perspective timelines,” the boy across from you clarifies before gesturing to the the back of the shop. Your eyes widen in shock as you take in all the various pictures of yourself that line the wall from top to bottom, and it takes you a moment to process the fact that various versions of you have existed throughout time unbeknownst to you.

“My y/n was a trained assassin,” the Five at the table next to you describes with a dreamy smile before biting into his sandwich.

“Mine was sent alongside Hazel and Cha Cha to kill me,” another voices while pulling down the collar of his shirt to showcase the ghastly scar on his chest. “She gave me this along with three beautiful kids before I screwed it all up with this end of the world bullshit.”

“If you all care so much about her then why did you give up trying to save the world?” Your husband protests in agitation. Your search for answers is going absolutely nowhere, and you’re both left with more questions than solutions. If these doppelgängers were really meant to be him from different timelines, then why did they quit so easily? His sole purpose, his entire being, was doing everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family. Come hell or high water, Five would always be willing to get his hands dirty if it meant you and his siblings lived to see another day. So why weren’t they doing the same? “Why come here instead of preventing the apocalypse so she has the chance to live a safe and happy life even if it means you can’t be in it?”

A forlorn silence fills the deli at his question, and now none of the Fives can find it in themselves to look at you. Their features are almost shameful, their eyes full of guilt and their shoulders full of tension as no one dares to answer.

“When us Fives find a way to save the world, y/n is the one that pays the price,” the boy across from you discloses somberly before tilting his head to meet your gaze. Looking at you is like looking at a ghost, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you as if you are his own. “The Handler killed my y/n after discovering my betrayal of the Commission.”

Another Five raises a woeful hand before announcing, “Viktor killed my y/n on accident with his bow after he discovered his powers.”

“My wife took a bullet for me because she thought my life was worth more than her own.”

“Dad had y/n disposed of in my timeline because he saw her as a distraction to me and my siblings.”

“Cha Cha tracked us down, found our home, and burned it to the ground with y/n still in it while I was away trying to save the world.”

You swallow harshly and ignore the knots in your stomach at hearing all the violent ways in which other versions of you had met their end. Your heart aches at learning what these men have been through and how much they’ve lost, but it also makes you begin to wonder if your fate will be worse than any story they can come up with. Sensing your discomfort, Five wraps a comforting arm around your figure and pulls you closer into his side.

“No matter how many times I traveled back to make it right, the result was the same,” the boy across from you relents in a desolate tone. “If I couldn’t even keep the most important woman in my life safe then how could I expect myself to save the world?”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmur softly, taking it upon yourself to reach across for his hand and offer your comfort. “I’m sorry for all of your losses. But as a y/n myself, I don’t think she would have wanted you to give up. She would have wanted you to keep going in spite of her death because that’s what she loved about you- your strength and your resilience when it comes to saving the people you care about.”

“God, you sound just like her,” he comments with a doleful laugh before shaking his head and pulling his hand away. “Believe me, I did everything I could. But no matter what we do, there’s no escaping the apocalypse.”

“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Five retorts in disbelief. This was all a complete waste of his time. He’s nowhere near close to preventing the Cleanse, and you’re still not somewhere safe away from the impending apocalypse.

“You can enjoy the time you have left with your y/n,” the lookalike instructs firmly, the other Fives in the deli nodding along. “You got lucky, you still have your wife, so why don’t you do us all a favor and take her somewhere nice?”

“I’m not giving up on this,” your husband argues before hastily rising from his seat in the booth. “There has to be a way to save the world, and I won’t stop until I figure it out myself.”

You watch him stalk out of the deli with purpose as he slams the door open and begins to formulate his next move. The room is silent other than the bell that jingles above the door, and you take this as your cue to leave.

“I should probably go after him,” you admit with a meek smile before scooting your way out of the booth. The Five from the subway rises to meet you, and he can’t help but to carefully cup your face in his hands and admire your features for just a moment. This might be the last time he’ll ever get to see you in person, and he’d like to commit every detail of you to memory from the reflection of the light in your eye to the smell of your perfume.

“If he ever gives you any trouble, you know where to find us,” he instructs you firmly before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and releasing you from his hold. Smiling faintly, you return the gesture by chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before rushing off after your husband.

Who would have guessed that in every timeline, in every possible version of himself to exist, Five’s love for you knows no bounds.

[bumblingbabooshka]

AU where the Alter Ego storyline takes place over a longer period of time (The Harry-Tuvok portions stay the same in content but maybe we delve a little deeper into both of them and their burgeoning friendship when given more time...but this post isn't about that!) and Tuvok comes out as trans (not in those words) to Marayna while thinking she's just a hologram. Marayna is not trans but she resonates deeply with the loneliness she senses from Tuvok (just as she did originally) and the feeling Tuvok expresses of being 'stuck' the way you are for a multitude of reasons despite it slowly making you more and more miserable. In the alpha quadrant being a man made Tuvok a 'Husband' and 'Father' for decades - roles that have brought fulfilment. Now, alone, what does it bring? Tuvok asserts that Marayna can change, she can return to her people. She doesn't have to just bear it. "What about you, Tuvok?" she asks. The Lieutenant has no answer....things will surely remain as they've always been. Tuvok doesn't know how to change them now. Is it even worth it to change them? Tuvok's not as bad off as the emotional Marayna. There's no need to change. Why rock the boat unnecessarily, because of a (decades long deep-seated) whim? Marayna is later able to sporadically contact Tuvok somehow (she's traveling instead of being among her own people) which leads to them finally meeting up in some alien virtual space. Marayna uses the 'Marayna' (not her real name) model so Tuvok can quickly identify her and Tuvok uses a Default Vulcan Model...the fact that the model is female was sheer coincidence. It was just the first one that popped up and Tuvok doesn't care either way. Obviously. The two of them have a wonderful time observing the alien program - standing apart from the crowd but also being together. Tuvok begins spending more and more free time in the program even when Marayna isn't there. Eventually, on the last day the program can be activated (Voyager's moving out of range) after saying goodbye to Marayna Tuvok's noticed by an alien and spends the rest of the night talking with them. The alien doesn't know Tuvok and acts as if they're speaking to any other woman. When asked for a name, Tuvok says "T'Vok." Immediately afterward, Voyager goes out of range. Tuvok stares at the ceiling. Meditates. It was the same as going undercover. Nothing has changed. Nothing. That night the Vulcan dreams of someone: That fuzzy childhood-static-filled image of herself as an adult...as a woman. Waking up, Tuvok meditates again - this time not seeking to accept and overcome (as a Vulcan normally would) but to repress, erase. 'It is unnecessary' Tuvok repeats, erasing her yet again.

What if Tuvok was a closeted trans woman and the episode 'Alter Ego' got a whole lot sadder

[helluvapoison]

Could I get Adam, Lute and Lucifer and how they 'court' the reader? Like how birds with court each other, little gifts, wing 'dances', nesting, etc...

Also, could I be your 🐌 anon? <3<3<3

Birds of a Feather

Adam, Lute and Lucifer courting you

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Peacocking has nothing on The First Man

• His personality is amped up to the highest level when he sees you walk in a room

• (Overcompensation for how fucking nervous you make him)

• Adam gets cocky when he knows he has your attention

• Tossing grapes high in the air and catching them in his mouth, bragging louder than usual about something or the other

• Heaven forbid you laugh at any of his antics, (His smirk is dangerous, “Oh you like that?”) he’ll start singling you out in front of everyone, calling your name before he acts up

• Performances include inviting you to watch his band play and miraculously getting more energy

• Casually tosses guitar picks in your direction— and when he finds out you kept one!? He’s over the moon

• He won’t go out of his way to get you food but he’ll order you something if he goes somewhere

• Adam hates nesting. He doesn’t like being stressed in general and nesting is really fucking stressful!

• The very fact seeing you pricks the urge in him to nest drives him insane

• (AKA, he likes you a lot more than he thought he did!)

• Seeing you in his space does something he doesn’t particularly hate though

• “It’s whatever if you don’t like it.” Adam shrugs

• “No, I think it looks nice! Very you. Tell me about these pictures?”

• He’s fucking done for

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Like they have a mind of their own, her wings stretch out and audibly fluff up when she makes eye contact with you

• Mortifying is an understatement

• She picks out trinkets to give to you at first, something small that could be waved off as insignificant

• Later, when Lute realizes her affections are returned, she brings useful offerings or something you offhandedly mentioned needing

• She wishes she could tell you about the exterminations solely to brag

• See how fierce she is, how skilled she is, how good of a protector she could be for you

• Lute will ask you to arm wrestle as a compromise. She gets to hold you hand and show off her strength!

• Nesting was fine, it was the judgment part that drove her up a wall

• Watching your eyes roam over her apartment, deciding whether or not it was good enough for you? Gah!

• “What, uh—“ Lute clears her throat, she’ll hate herself for even asking later, “What do you think?”

• You smile knowingly, something else that makes her absolutely mad, “It’s perfect.”

• Lute beams with pride like she’s won a great victory

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Never before has he felt the need to actually flaunt.. anything?

• With you it hits him like a fucking train and it’s even harder to supress it

• He’s Lucifer! That’s supposed to be self explanatory, that’s supposed to be enough

• Suddenly he’s checking every mirror on his way to you, making sure he looks better than he feels

• He tries to find other ways to steal your attention or show that he would be a worthy partner

• …But showing off his wings couldn’t hurt, right? He has six after all. If you needed to get to the other side of town he’d be more than happy to fly you over!

• Nothings too good for you! If Lucifer thinks you’ll want or like something, he’s buying it!

• Did you notice he can make things too? He’ll make you something— or fix something for you!

• Quick, break that so he can show you he can fix it!

• Lucifer pulls all the stops trying to prove himself, nesting is no exception… he’s just not great at it

• He starts! However a little after beginning he realizes just how big his mansion is and gets overwhelmed so he closes all the doors and focuses his energy on the only room that matters; his

• “I mainly stay in here,” Lucifer explains while squishing a duck in his fist, watching you explore his room, “I cleaned it up for you! N-Not for you, not for that— I mean not that I’m opposed! I just meant so that you could, uh, see?”

• “I see why you like it, I’d never wanna leave.”

• You’re gonna kill him saying shit like that

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 CAN I GIVE YOU A KITH BECAUSE THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!