#are usually signs of aging on the face. Many times people seem older than their age due to the use of chemical products
Note
What about a four year age difference smut between beomgyu x f reader where the f reader is younger
warning : age gap (gyu is in his late 20 & reader is mid 20), dubcon, car sex, drunk sex, size kink, implied dom/sub dynamic, implied squirting, pet names (little one, little girl) & nawt proofread
The first time you met Beomgyu was when you were having an internship in a high profile company under his supervision as one of team leaders in the division you were signed up for.
There wasn't much interaction between the two of you because Beomgyu always found his way to stay professional, both as your supervisor and team leader—making sure you wouldn't make a mistake or attracting any drama due to your lack of experience in real life.
Unfortunately, your internship only lasted for three months only—long enough to make some acquaintances but a bit too short to make you realised about the feeling that you harboured to the handsome, young team leader.
Fast forward to the next few years, you found yourself enamoured to the same man who held the new manager position now. Still finding him attractive despite being in his late twenties, looking even more mature than the last time you saw him.
As an assistant manager from another department, you couldn't help but feel disappointed whenever you missed your chance to see him—especially when the two of you could only meet because of business, having no time to know each other more on a personal level.
But, it seemed like the Heavens heard your prayers because three departments, including yours and his, were going to have a drink night at the bar few buildings away from the company, celebrating a successful deal or something like that.
Which led you to this position, getting sandwiched between your tipsy manager and a couple of drunk colleagues—not looking safe no matter how many times you looked at them.
Feeling a small tap on your shoulder, you whipped your head and swore that your spirit almost left your body because Beomgyu was holding out a glass of soju beer for you, smile looking sincere as always. "Here, no need to be so uptight over this," he coaxed as you took the glass from his grasp, cursing at yourself for being a lightweight and getting tipsy after few sips, head resting against the older man's shoulder comfortably.
Squishing your face between his warm hand, you weren't sure if your face was red from the embarassment or the alcohol—but, at least, it was enough to give you some courage to lean into his touch, flashing him the sweet smile you always showed him ever since you were an intern.
Beomgyu, who realised the alcohol in your system was already getting too much, told the rest of the employee that he would take you out to get some air—helping you to walk so that you wouldn't stumble on the ground.
Sitting you down on the nearest bench he could find, he took off his coat before draped it over your small figure, feeling his heart skipped a beat at your current look—hair slightly messy, cheeks flushed and eyes look glassy; reminding him of a porcelain doll people usually displayed.
Raising your head slightly to see his face, you pulled the coat closer to your frame and took a small whiff of the familiar cologne he always wore—washing you with a sudden feeling of comfort and security.
"I'll drive you home—"
"Am I not good enough?" You pouted, peeking through your lashes before tugging his sleeve gently; making him widened his eyes in surprise before brushing it off and helping you to get into his car.
Carefully, he buckled your belt and made sure he didn't make you uncomfortable before getting to the driver seat; praying to God that his sanity wouldn't leave him alone when you were so close to him, looking all pretty and vulnerable.
"Manager," your voice called for him, sounding more attractive than usual and hell, you always looked so attractive to him but tonight was where his limit got tested.
With your hand on his thigh, Beomgyu's sanity had snapped before he shot you a look; telling you to take off the coat and sit down on the backseat, waiting for him before he took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt—pushing you down under him.
"I swear to God you always know how to get me acting up, little one," he let out a shaky breath, hand sliding under your miniskirt before pushing them up to your waist and yanking your panties and stockings down, ignoring the ripped sound they made before tossing them away. "Acting coy and sweet when you're seducing me ever since you came to here as an intern," he pulled you to sit down on his thigh, clit making a contact with the soft material of his trousers and the filthy squelching sound it made whenever your bare cunny made a contact with his thigh didn't help either—in fact, they made Beomgyu got more aroused as you threw your head to the back, letting out a long, incoherent whine before staining his expensive pants with your cum.
Beomgyu loved you, that's a fact that wouldn't change, ever. But, you were way too young for him and could always find someone who's more desirable and younger than him. "Manager, more, please," you rutted your hips against his knee, trying to chase another high with tears streaming down your cheeks; making Beomgyu cooed to you sweetly, wiping away those stray tears before unzipping his pants and pushing his length inside you—clenching around them involuntarily whenever your gummy walls made a contact with his thick, veiny girth.
Resting both of your hands on his shoulders, Beomgyu realised how small you were; hands covering your entire ass as you were barely on eye level with him, despite being on top of him. "Little girl is having trouble down there, hmm?" He gave you a shallow thrust, trying to taste the water and getting lost inside your eyes—car filled up with loud squelching sound, your wanton moans and pleads to let you cum as his thick cock bullying your cervix mercilessly; thick rope of hot cum filling up your womb as a white ring covered his whole length, feeling satisfied that he was able to make you cum with ease, whispering a small 'one more time, little one, okay?' from time to time just so that he could knock you out and watch both of your cums dripping down to the backseat, legs spread out wide for him to stare at before fucking you for one last time with his fingers, covering them with your juice.
"Once again, for me, please, little girl."
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Can I get a romantic concept of yandere Cuphead, please???? Thx!
Sure! Aged up as usual and it's vague if this is the game or the cartoon, despite the gif. New to writing this fandom so go easy on me, lol.
Yandere! Cuphead Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, OOC Cuphead, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Guilt-tripping, Mental breakdown, Slight delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Implied forced relationship.
Out of both the brothers, Cuphead seems to be the most reckless/bratty of the two.
He's childish and wants the easy-going life full of adventure.
While he's typically kind-hearted, he takes risks and is usually greedy.
Cuphead would be Clingy, Manipulative, Easily jealous, Obsessive, Protective, and Impulsive with his darling.
Cuphead treats his crush on you like it's his most precious treasure.
He'd never gamble it away or share you with anyone.
Cuphead is still very greedy even when he's older.
Which leads to him wanting to take up all your time.
Due to his upbringing Cuphead is a bit... entitled.
He feels he is the only one that deserves to be around you!
He takes it from a normal level of wanting to be around your crush... to being unable to function in the day without seeing you.
You're visited by him often with a goofy smile on his face.
If you aren't home? Then he'll wander Inkwell Isle until he finds you.
Overtime he can be quite the handful.
Cuphead can be manipulative due to him feeling entitled to you.
He's not entirely delusional but he does feel you and him are meant to be.
He'd guilt you about neglecting him until you eventually cave.
Cuphead makes you feel like the bad guy for being tired of his clingy behavior.
He's tiring but makes it your problem.
Which doesn't make him the best partner.
It doesn't help that Cuphead is easily jealous.
Cuphead frequently fights with Mugman, if you were brought up then Cuphead throws a fit.
Cuphead likes the idea of it just being you and him...
He wants an easy life with you and is usually deep into his fantasy all the time.
Most of the time ignoring how you felt about his odd behavior.
Cuphead starts fights easily, too.
He can't deal with jealousy in the slightest without breaking out into a rage or crying.
Cuphead is obsessive about you as his crush.
He wants to know your favorite everything.
What better way to know everything about you than watching you?
He feels guilty... he knows this obsession is wrong.
Yet Cuphead was always one to give into temptation.
Cuphead is acutely aware of how bad his obsession is.
He's given into temptation by the Devil himself in the past...
So he's one to indulge in forbidden practices.
Watching you will be fine, right?
Just as long as he doesn't get caught....
Same thing for threatening people around you!
If he isn't caught by you... it'll all be fine!
Cuphead is protective of his darling not only due to jealousy but the fear that someone like the literal Devil could take you.
Inkwell Isle isn't as safe as you might think.
It's flowing with sin, he'd know.
Many have signed deals with the Devil here.
Cuphead is determined to protect you from this tainted world!
He's seen it first hand.
Which may mean Cuphead might look to isolation in an attempt to keep you with him... safe.
Cuphead's reckless and can get a bit impulsive.
With his obsession he dips into territory he shouldn't.
Stealing, manipulation, violence, stalking, kidnapping...
All of these he does on impulse.
He feels this will be the best way to start your relationship and keep you safe!
Meanwhile you're locked away like something that could be stolen any second.
Cuphead can be very intense with his obsession.
He's obsessive and draining towards his darling...
He may think starting a relationship will make you both happy... there's a good chance you'll be too tired mentally and physically to fight back anyways.
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This post is specifically intended for people who have or plan to get pet rats.
Of course, my blog isn't primarily about rats, but I've long wanted to share and discuss this weird observation, and seeing how active the ratblr community is (which I didn't realize up until recenlty) inspired me to do so.
A little (unconfirmed) tip on how to spot early symptoms of a pituitary gland tumor in your rat. It is a sad topic.
Three words: mineral stone chewing.
Or chalk, whatever you call it.
Now to the longer explanation...
I've had many rats over the years. Majority of them passed due to brain tumors, so I was able to observe the symptoms way too many times. They are not always the same, although similar. Some rats lose their ability to drink from a bottle, others have spasms in their front paws or develop head tilt, general unresponsiveness, etc. Some rats will brux from pain and chew everything in the cage, others sleep constantly. I don't have to tell you, you probably know or can easily google the typical symptoms (or watch Shadow The Rat).
But in every case, my rats shared a common behavior: they started gnawing on a mineral stone much more frequently. Like multiple times a day, every day.
I have no idea why that is and google doesn't know anything about it either. But I see it every.single.time. Now, whenever my older (1.5-2 year old) rat starts to consistently pay more attention to the mineral stone, I immediately give them Cabergoline. Of course, there needs to be more symptoms to confirm pituitary gland tumor.
Sometimes people tend mistake the first symptoms for just aging. Say that rat is "slowing down" and don't think much of it.
Now when I see the "slowness" (more than usual sleepiness, slightly squinted eyes even when active*, clumsiness) combined with frequent mineral stone gnawing, I know for sure that it is a brain tumor.
So it is either an early stage prolactinoma, in which case rat immediately responds to Cabergoline and lives happily for many more months. Or it is another type of brain tumor, then the rat goes from "normal old ratty but eats that chalk a lot" to very sick rather quickly. Unfortunately, the latter requiers humane euthnasia, nothing else can be done.
Obviously, to notice this behavior there must be a mineral stone in the cage. And it should be in a place easily accessible for older rats, not too high, preferably where they like to hang out the most. To spot the difference, you have to know the typical behavior of your rats, how often do they normally like to chew it. Usually, actively growing (2-5 months old) ratties chew it a lot, then less and less, adult rats pay almost no attention to it. Elderly rats can chew it more often than adults and still be alright, but if it's multiple times a day and you can clearly see the stone vanishing quickly…yeah, I'd start watching the rat more closely and show them to a vet.
Maybe none of your rats with brain tumors have ever shown an unusual interest in chewing on a mineral stone. That's just my theory based on owning rats for many years. Of course, no matter how many rats I've had, they still can't be a representative sample. It is purely my observation.
But I'll be happy if it ever helps at least one person detect a brain tumor early and maybe save a rat.
*examples of facial expression of rats with a pituitary gland tumor:
Note the squinted eyes and excessive porphyrin on only one side of the face, that's usually one of the early (if you're lucky) giveaways. Yes, narrowed eyes can be a sign of any kind of pain, but if you see it in a rat who's 2+ years old and otherwise seems healthy, a pituitary gland tumor is the most likely cause.
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Within her claws
Summary: You are a 21 year old cougar shapeshifter under the affiliation of a clan of other large cat shifters known as the pride. When a meeting is called about a witness protection across seas you volunteer to go alongside your best friend ending up landing in Romania. Things seem to be going well until you accidentally step into a secluded village that reeks of death and blood. Now you and your best friend must fight to get back without getting killed, and with a certain family of vampiric women intending to keep you don’t know what’s in store
Chapter one: The meeting
Sometimes you loathed your job.
Working with customers was always a struggle. There would be times you’d encounter decent and friendly ones who gave you no problems, but a majority of them were insolent, rude, and snappy. Some complained about the fries being too soggy or how long their food was taking, even though you’re just the cashier. Working at the local fast food restaurant was a nightmare, but it helped pay the bills and necessities at least.
Often you had the afternoon shifts but there were some times you’d be assigned with the midnight shift alongside your coworker Taylor and an older cook named Irene. Those who come around on the midnight shifts were stoners and the occasional late nighters. There was the possibility of shady people entering at three in the morning but the building did have a good built in alarm, plus the buddy system you and Taylor designed whenever either of you took the trash out. Even without those things you could very well handle yourself due to your special background.
You came from a third generation of cougar shapeshifters who mastered and crafted the gift of becoming an apex predator. Your parents claim you started to show signs at the age of eight and under both of their guidance started to get the hang of the feeling of your body contorting into its cat form. Out of all your friends you was the fourth one to show signs of being able to shift, not technically a late bloomer in the pride’s eyes.
The pride.
Similar to a pack of wolves you was apart of a large community of other cat shifters; formerly called The Pride. Usually pride members lived in a secured community where non shifters couldn’t get in to ensure safety. The pride takes care of each other and are close knit. You lived outside the gated community at your own choice but was still part of it. You even had your I.D in your wallet at all times.
It’s often difficult living amongst humans. You had to control your emotions to not let yourself let loose and reveal what you really are. You heard from others that some shifters hunted humans for food or sport but you knew yourself and your pride refrain from doing such acts. It was risky and not many prefer the stringy taste, some even saying it’s like eating rotten meat. But that didn’t mean your primal instincts didn’t kick in at times, usually when you got really frustrated or was feeling a bit too…amorous. A couple of times you’ve left scratches on your previous partners’ back from being too invested, luckily none minded too much.
However you was still learning to be in control. You was lucky to not have harmed anyone.
You jolt out of your thoughts as your phone vibrates in your pocket. Pulling it out your eyes land on the name of who sent it; Avery. Avery was your childhood best friend and you admit you was crushing on her a tiny bit. Avery is two years older than you and had pretty light tannish brown skin with freckles decorating her roundish face. The thing that captured people the most were her grayish blue eyes that held innocence, even though innocent wasn’t what you’d describe her. The two had met at one of the pride meetings being put with the other pride cubs while the adults talked. The two of you hit it off right then and have been inseparable since.
Opening your phone you click on the message reading it.
Avery:
Hey bestie, have you gotten the news?
You:
No what news?
Avery:
Tonight there’s a big meeting, everyone is required to go. What time do you get off?
You:
Shit are you serious? I get off in another hour
Avery:
Want me to pick you up? We can go together
You:
Please, I’ll bring some leftover hamburgers and fries
Avery:
Keep then musty ass food, that stuff is nasty🤢🤢
You let out a soft chuckle putting your phone back in your pocket before going to collect the trash to take it out. The next hour goes slow as not many come in except for two people. When the clock finally strikes 11 o clock you all but dash to the door waving goodbye to your coworkers. Stepping outside you could feel the warm night air as you exhale softly. You look around the parking lot before seeing a blue sedan in one of the parking spots under a streetlight. Walking over to it you open the door hopping into the passenger seat as you look over at Avery, who was busy applying lipstick to her plush lips. “Really Avery? It’s just a meeting.” You playfully tease rolling your eyes.
Avery glances over at you with an mock hurt expression. “Of course! I must look my best in front of everyone, especially Michelle.” She says dreamily as she placed her lipstick in her purse.
Letting out a groan you put your seatbelt on. “You really think she’s going to notice you this time? She’s always stuck to the hip beside her parents.”
“The last meeting we went we had made eye contact! That’s gotta be a sign that we are meant to be!” She says as she starts up the car pulling out of the parking spot.
“I wonder what a snow leopard’s and tiger’s offspring would look like.” You muse looking out the window watching trees fly past.
“You’ll get to see if Michelle and I are soul mates.” Avery responds chuckling. “Can’t you see me standing by her side while she makes those amazing speeches while our little ones run about?” She lets out a soft sigh as her eyes lit up.
You tilt your head to the side you purse your lips. “I hope you don’t intend on dropping the kids on me while you two sneak off to get laid.” You yelped as Avery punches your arm.
“I would not!” She says haughtily.
“Would too!”
The two of you continue to bicker before going into a silence for the remainder of the drive. Your eyes soon grows heavy as you drift off to sleep.
#resident evil 8#resident evil village#lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#donna beneviento#lady dimitrescu x gn! reader#lady dimitrescu x female reader#lady dimitrescu x shapeshifter#bela dimitrescu x reader#cassandra x reader#daniela dimitrescu x reader#cassandra dimitrescu x reader#within her claws
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“Do you wanna play? Take a nap? Ooh! What about a snack??”
Name : Kisumi Inuzuka
Nicknames : ‘Sumi, Kiki-Chan (Miriam • @sakuramidnight15 ), Pudding (Hoshiko and Hikari • @starry-night-rose ), Goldie (Che’nya), Little Lady (Prince Rielle)
Jp Va : Ryouko Maekawa
En Va : Jackie Lastra
Age : 17
Height : 168 cm(5’6)
Homeland : Land Of Pyroxene
Birthday : April 16th (4/16)
Zodiac sign : Aries
Species : Human…?
Hair Color : Cyber Yellow
Eye Color : Gingerbread Brown
Gender : Female (She/Her)
Sexuality : Pansexual
Family : Adoptive Mother and Adoptive Father
Occupation : Student at Royal Sword Academy, Member of the Sanwaii dorm (By @twsted-princess !!)
Twisted from : PomPomPurin (Sanrio)
More info and PNGS down below!!
School Year : Second
School Year : Second
Class : 2-A (no.3)
Best Subject : Animal Languages
Worst Class : Flying
Club : Cooking
Dominant Hand : Right
Favorite Food : Pudding, anything soft!
Least Favorite Food : Nutritional foods
Likes : Her friends, napping, eating snacks, taking people's shoes???, animals, Hanging out with the Itsuki twins
Dislikes : Staying in one place, Being told to stay still, Insensitive people, being ignored
Hobbies : Taste testing Miriam’s desserts, making friends, baking, practicing giving her frowny face, coloring
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
Personality :
Kisumi is just a really happy girl! She's always smiling, almost never seeming upset or angry. Kisumi’s always seen talking to people as she loves making friends. She’s very energetic so that tends to drive some people away. She’s trying to calm herself down though! Her brain just moves at 180 mph. Kisumi absolutely CANNOT stay in one place for long periods of time. All in all, she’s a very sweet person who would do anything for her friends. She's just ur local golden retriever!
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
Unique Magic :
Turn That Frown Upside Down!
The user can control anyone’s emotions if they touch them for more than 3 seconds. This usually affects the other person in terms of control and focus, depending on the user's emotion. In order for a person’s emotions to be controlled, the user must feel those emotions they wish to have the other person feel. Angry, Sad, Happy, all of them have their pros and cons. If used too much or to its extent, the user’s emotions will go haywire and become uncontrollable. This will usually last from 2-3 hours depending on the usage.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
Backstory :
Kisumi’s biological mother died when Kisumi was only 8 months old, leaving her to spend her childhood in an orphanage. Despite her situation, she always kept a smile on her face and saw the bright side to everything. Until one day, a couple came into the orphanage looking to adopt. Almost instantly, they noticed this bright, smiley girl coloring with a plate of half-eaten pudding next to her. The then 5 year old Kisumi had been approached and rejected many times so she was almost comically shocked when two adults came up to her, asking about what she was coloring. Kisumi and the couple spent a long time talking and playing, they knew she was the kid for them. When the couple asked how she would feel about being adopted, her smile fell. At that point, no one has seen Kisumi without her smile. She believed she was dreaming, until the older woman gently pinched her cheek. This was real. She would have a family and a home she could call her own. Then, she bursted into tears. Kisumi is forever grateful for the life she has and continues to be the smiley and happy person she is.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
Random Trivia!
New dorm members usually get warned about Kisumi’s little…shoe hiding problem.
She’s extremely good at making friends, she just talks to someone and voilà! besties!
Kisumi isn’t just blindly optimistic. She knows when people are being rude and mean to her, she just chooses to ignore it because they don’t matter!!
She is oblivious to people who have crushes on her tho LMAOO
She’ll defend the fuck outta her friends. Or anyone tbh.
If you become friends with Kisumi, there’s a high chance you’ll be napping together
She’s a hugger. But if someone isn’t comfortable with hugging or touching, she’ll respect that and give them affection in a different way!!
She’s friends with Kalim Al-Asim from NRC! They’re similar so it was a given HAHSJSH
#sanwaii#Sanwaii dorm#kisumi🍮#kisumi inuzuka#rsa oc#royal sword academy#Royal sword academy oc#twst#twisted wonderland#Twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#jas drew a thing.jpeg
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sebastian stan, pansexual + panromantic, trans man + he/him → isn’t that corvus stark? i’ve seen them hanging out with the harpies. i hear they’re forty-two, but they’ve only been in alexandria for one year. they seem to be assertive & vigilant, but also unyielding & hostile.
BASIC INFORMATION
full name: corvus stark
nickname(s): cor, corvy,
age: forty-two
date of birth: november 16
hometown: new york, new york
current location: alexandria, louisiana
species: harpy
ethnicity: white
nationality: american
gender: trans man
pronouns: he/him
orientation: pansexual + panromantic
occupation: antique shop owner, attorney
living arrangements: at the chateau
language(s): english, french, german
accent: none
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
face claim: sebastian stan
hair color: brunette
eye color: blue
height: 6'4"
weight: 17- lb
build: athletic
tattoos: none
usual expression: scorned, frowning
distinguishing characteristics: his tiddies his eyes
PERSONALITY
positive traits: assertive, vigilant, precise
negative traits: unyielding, hostile, cutthroat
myers brigg: entj
zodiac sign: scorpio
element: water
enneagram: the challenger
temperament: melancholic
hogwarts house: slytherin
moral alignment: lawful evil
primary vice: pride
primary virtue: charity
fears: losing his power / control
hobbies: singing, designing
FAMILY
father: crassus stark
mother: eunonina stark
sibling(s): drusilla stark, sejanus stark
pet(s): none
FAVORITES
weather: misty/dewey
season: spring
color: red
music: classic rock
movies: drama
beverage: wie
food: salad idk
animal: hummingbirds
NSFW
preference: bottom, very dominant
kinks: breeding, rough sex, dom/sub, control in/out of bedroom, lingerie, submissive tops, open to others
anti kinks: scat, vomit, blood play, etc
BIOGRAPHY
corvus was born into an affluent and powerful family in manhattan. the starks have been important pieces in how new york city has been run since they first settled in the area two hundred years ago. corvus spent most of his early life living in the family penthouse and spending summers in the hamptons.
both of his parents came from generational wealth, with his father being a high profile attorney while his mother was a socialite. they were connected to the other supernatural families on the island; he first flew when he was a child and loved it, taking any escape the city and just fly away from his troubles.
the harpy has always been stern, something he inherited from his father who was always stoic around them and corvus could count the number of times he showed any kind of emotion with one hand. he took the world very seriously and never took any crap, looking to his father more than anyone else.
corvus and his siblings went to the best private schools you could find in manhattan and he'd eventually go to yale to study law like his father. he'd spend his entire college years in the library or in his dorms, studying. corvus never had the time or interest to waste his youth partying like so many of his peers.
it would eventually pay off and he graduated as valedvictorian of his class. after finishing yale, corvus was hired at his fathers firm and worked under him. he'd eventually find his first love, lionel, who was a few years older and worked at the firm with him. the two hit it off and after a few years, got married.
the marriage would work for a few years but he would eventually find his husband in bed with the firms newest intern. he would make sure to bury his husband in the divorce, taking as much as he possibly could and making sure lionel was screwed.
with his pride bruised, corvus decided to start over. it was too hard to stay in manhattan, so he packed his things and headed south until he was drawn to alexandria. it was like a flame calling out to a moth.
after a few weeks of visiting, corvus decided to settle down in town and has built his own law firm as well as buying an antique shop to help diversify his income. most people know better than to approach corvus, most are intimidated by just crossin him on the street. he doesn't think he'll ever love again but that's alright when you have a purpose like corvus does.
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Fun fact about Furby, but because I adopt seniors with disabilities only I usually feel too bad to change their name.
The shelter I got both my boys from does already as a little extra just distance from their old lives. (My other rescue Duckie was dropped off at a vet to be euthanized. He was severely neglected. Close to death from untreated diabetes and his old owners not giving a single shit about him his whole life. There's even some question as to exactly how old he is because his teeth are so bad the vet deduced he was either much older than they said or he had profoundly poor nutrition for a long time. Left to suffer. They didn't want to pay to have him recover. Vets will sometimes get owners like them to sign papers relinquishing ownership, promise to put the pet down, then call around to see if any shelters have the room to get an animal like him into recovery. Whoever used to have him, as far as they know, he's been dead for years. Changing his name gives the vet a bit of cover in the event his old owners see a picture of him on social media and recognize him. Like, Duckie has some pretty distinct markings on his face, but like, as far as they'd know it's just as likely a eerily similar cat to the one they abandoned. What they did is totally legal, but, for some reason people get weirdly pissed to find out the animal they left to die alone is doing well and has a better life.) But by the time I get them, they've usually been in the shelter for a while. Special needs senior animals are hard to adopt out, obviously. It usually feels a bit mean, you know? Third name change after all that.
However, I made an exeption for Furby. Unfortunately since the shelter gets so many cats and they all have to be named different shit, some of them end up with real bad ones. Furby's shelter name was apparently a model of German car, hard to pronounce, and un-fucking-spellable for my dyslexic ass. I literally don't even remember what it was, and can't spell it accurately enough for Google to guess. Because of that he had a million nicknames and basically responded to anything anyway.
When I saw Furby, I fucking fell in love instantly. He doesn't seem to be all Persian, but he's clearly at least a good chunk Persian. I love Persians. I've loved them every since my little 12 year old Warrior Cat kid ass was instantly taken by best girl hag queen Yellowfang. This is no judgement to people who get pets from breeders, but, personally, I'm uncomfortable with supporting the pet breeding industry even as it pertains to "ethical" breeds, let alone unethical ones. And for those of you unaware, as gorgeous little gremlins as Persians are . . . At best, they're on par with pugs. It depends on what kind and how severe their face squish. And even before all that, just personally, in today's current pet trade market it's shelter or bust (in terms of cats and dogs, not other kinds. But even for rabbits and stuff I feel it's good practice to always check shelters first.) Persians are expensive, fancy cats, unlikely to end up in a shelter at all, and if they do, they'll be adopted out in a blink of an eye. Which is good, don't get me wrong, but, I try to always go for the ones who nobody but me would want. That's why Furby just seemed fated to be mine. Old? Needs special medical care? Tragic backstory? Completely unwanted and stuck in foster care for ages? That's MY KIND OF PET, BOyo. That he has this stupid short muzzle that makes him look like he's sucking on a lemon perpetually since he has no teeth and this big fat forehead that makes him look like a toddler about to fly into a temper tantrim was a special treat. He sits on the back of the couch with his front paws crossed and looks like the snobbiest little shiteating twink and I fucking love him with every cell in my body.
He looks exactly like the 1998 Furby I had as a kid. The white one with black spots. I collect furby stuff, as I am a toy collector and modder obviously, so the name seemed absolutely perfect. . . Too perfect. Profoundly far too perfect. In what I can only describe as a cosmic troll-job, he happens to also have something else very much in common with the 1998 Furby I had as a kid.
He. Never. Fucking. Shuts. Up.
In his distinct high pitched wail (if you've heard a Persian meow before, you'll know what I mean) he cries incessantly. Dare I not pay attention to him when he demands it, nothing but screaming. Unfortunately like an idiot, I've reinforced the behavior by accident. The more annoying he is the faster I'll drop everything to get him to stop with food or pets, so now he just goes full Final Girl to get what he wants as fast as possible. The only way he isn't like his name sake is that he has no batteries to remove in a desperate bid for peace. Like all cats, he's an agent of chaos unrivaled by any other animal on the planet. The degrees him and his brother can cause mischief in my daily life is unparalleled.
That sounds all extremely negative, but like, believe it or not this is exactly what I love about cats. I went through a very long battle with what felt like and endless cascade of health problems I'm only now starting to actually recover from over the past three years, and I don't think I would have survived it without my boys. No matter how sick or depressed or lost in a endless mental fog I got, these little pissbabies managed to get me to interact with them or there would be hell to pay. They managed to be as charming as ever charm me even while they caused all the fucking mayham they could.
Even when I felt like staying in bed until I rotted and died, Furby screamed until I got up. Duckie sent stuff crashing to the ground until I snapped out of my haze.
Non-cat people think cat lovers are insane, but like, it's never a fucking dull moment with them around. The will of cats is infamous, and in a lot of ways I think the real reason I managed to survive all I did was because it was inconvenient for my two little goblin kids to have to find another forever home if I kicked it, so they made sure that didn't happen.
#artists on tumblr#goth aesthetic#queer artist#cats#senior cat#rescue#adoption#animals#alternative#alternative goth#furby#furby fandom#furby community#furblr#gothic#goth#gay#gothcore#cat#warrior cats#erin hunter warriors#yellowfang#toy collector#gothgoth#small artist#small business#trans owned business#transmasc#trans guy#transgender
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“I just don't see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.”
Introduction
Yudai Toya, also known as KILLA W. in rap battles, is the Division leader and first member of Solar Siren. An adventurous swimming prodigy who’ve won many Olympic awards, he ran away from home to escape an overbearing father. It seems like he’s in a contract with someone, though he’s unusually secretive about who it is…
Biographical Information
Name: Yudai Toya / Toya Yudai
Yudai (優大) - “Big and excellent / superior.”
Toya (トヤ) - “Pond shore.”
Aliases:
Atuy - Native name
Llyr - Danish name
Yuu / Yu-chan / Yu-kun
The Red Sea Champion
SUSAN00 - Musician Name
“Seiyuu”
Aria no. 28 - “Shoreless Sea”.
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Birthday: April 7th
Star Sign: Aries
Ethnicity: Ainu
Hair Color: Fiery red
Eye Color: Aqua blue
Height: 171cm / 5’7”
Weight: 162 Ibs / 73kg
Piercings: N / A
Markings: A scar on his stomach.
Family:
Father
Mother (Deceased)
Step-Mother (Deceased)
Six older siblings (Some are alive, some are…unknown.)
Fun Facts
MC Name: KILLA W.
Occupation: Swimmer / Musician / Voice Actor
Division: Enoshima
Team: Solar Siren
Position: Leader
Likes: Exploring, the sea, fireworks, supernatural / paranormal media.
Dislikes: Secrets, people being overprotective and / or constantly nagging him, people who are constantly filled with hate, and dishonest people. It’s all ‘people people people’ with him huh.
Favorite Food: Anything with strawberries.
Least Favorite Food: Octopus. Actually, he seems to dislike sea food in general.
Appearance
Yudai is a tanned man of average height and a toned build. His messy hair reaches his shoulders and is a fiery red color, usually put in a small low ponytail. There are gold round glasses that frame his aqua blue eyes. On his neck is a pearl necklace with a purple clamshell attached to it.
Normally he’s wearing a light blue short-sleeved jacket; underneath is a gradient purple tank top with a beach design, complete with palm trees and all. His knee-length shorts are a dark greyish-green in color, and his sandals are dark blue.
Personality
Yudai, to describe him rather simply, is a huge bundle of energy. He’s spirited and bright, being affectionate to those he that likes or admires. He holds a huge passion for adventure and exploration—One that is “mistakenly” called rebellious by his father, according to him. His curiosity leads him into a lot of trouble. On another note, he has a bit of an ego due to his prodigy status.
Despite how kind he can be, Yudai has a temper that can make him incredibly spiteful to those that he dislikes. Calling them names to provoke them, roasting them right in front of their face, doing things that would make them angry, etc. He just becomes aggressively petty. This brat can hold grudges for a long time, you see.
Ironically, he can be pretty overprotective of people he cares about to the point it’s almost overbearing. This overprotectiveness can also lead him to be even more reckless than he already is, such as going straight into fighting without a second thought. I guess he and his dad are more similar than he thinks!
Hypnosis Mic
His mic is blue and handheld, with a spiral wave wrapped around the hilt and a shell around the mic grill.
His speakers take the form of a large open clamshell with a white spherical speaker inside acting as a pearl.
Yudai’s rap ability is…a secret, lol. Let it be a surprise during the rap battle, don’t you think that’ll be more interesting?
Much like Koyumi, he mixes rapping and singing together, often switching between the two. Sometimes when rapping he speaks other languages too, including his native one.
Trivia
As mentioned in the opening post, Yudai is also a TWST OC who’s twisted from Ariel, and the Little Mermaid from the original book as well. His quote is the beginning of the song “Part of your World”.
His birthday is the release date of The Little Mermaid book.
His MC name is a reference to Repun Kamuy, the god of the sea, who’s sometimes depicted as an orca / killer whale.
He’s originally from Hokkaido.
He’s left-handed.
Yudai has a VERY large voice range. His voice can be really high and sound like a girl, it can go incredibly deep, he can hold high notes for a long time, he can imitate other peoples voices, etc. This talent of his is why he’s also a musician and voice actor.
He really loves sea creatures, especially the super scary and mysterious-looking ones.
On that note, Yudai wants to be the first man to ever explore the remaining 80% of the ocean just to see scary sea creatures. He wants to be the first person to ever reach the bottom of the ocean too.
#hypmic oc#hypnosis mic oc#enoshima division#solar siren#oc profile#not me finishing his hypmic profile before his twst one even though he was originally made for twst first LOL#then again he’s like…the 11th mc so of course he’d take longer#yudai toya
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Sweetly || Agatsuma Zenitsu
Content and Warnings: Female reader, blood and death, aged-up characters, mafia - alternate universe, porn with plot, couch sex/riding, oral (f), criminal Pillars, modern day au with demons/slayers, NSFW, words: 6,743.
Notes: This is part of Thicker Than Water collab posted by @em-plosion. Thank you for hosting such a fun and amazing event. Please enjoy.
The sweet scent of sugar permeates the air as you carry a tray of homemade kohakutou candies out to the counter. You are almost sad to see them go; the last batch is personalized in pastel shades for the customer, a detail that you take great pride in as a Confectioner.
Packing them in a baby pink paperboard candy box with the name Amaku on the side – the name of the shop – you stand and wait for the fortunate customer to come in.
It's almost nine, near closing time, so you store the leftovers in containers for the staff to take home; a variety box is waiting for you of dangos and a cupcake with buttercream icing that your colleague made. You almost can't wait to tear into them.
Hearing the doorbell ring, you turn your eyes to the entrance, forcing a sweet smile as Mrs. Momoka walks in – an older woman with a friendly face that comes in once a week.
“Oh dear, I apologize for being so late. There was a terrible accident in Iwate,” she explains.
You raise a brow.
“What sort of accident?”
“The police were swarming the streets. I heard they found a mutilated body in a dumpster outside the convenience store in Ninohe District,” Mrs. Momoka answers.
You frown. An air of dread swallows you like a wet blanket.
“How long ago?” You ask.
“Half an hour,” Mrs. Momoka answers. She narrows her eyes in concern. “Why do you ask, dear?”
You hand the box to her over the counter; the app makes orders easier considering the customers pay online with no hassle.
“I live in Aomori. It concerns me.”
Mrs. Momoka frowns in pity.
“That is unfortunate. Be careful on your way home. Aomori is 2 hours from Iwate but you can never be too cautious.”
You agree. Waving goodbye to Mrs. Momoka, you walk around the counter and turn the open sign to close.
It's dark out. An ominous feeling inches across your body, but at least there are people around. You take an uneasy breath, walking away from the door to clean up.
At a quarter after nine, you leave Amaku, heading to the train station. The night air chills you to the bone, but it's the least of your worries. The incident plays in your mind like an eerie time reel. Tohoku is a quiet region; nothing usually happens on the island, so a brutal death so close to home has you on edge.
You try to ignore it, but the disappearances reported now and again on the news seem more real. Is there a pattern? A possible killer? You shudder to think so.
Boarding the train, you take an uneasy breath, resting in a vacant seat. At night there aren't many people around. You share the compartment with three others, making you unlucky number four.
It's an hour ride to Aomori, so you try to make the best of it as you can, playing a silent dating game on your phone.
Ten minutes till eleven the train pulls into the station and you depart. Your apartment is a five-minute walk from your current location. You saunter down the empty street, humming under your breath as you clutch the box of sweets in your arms. It's so close you can almost feel the warmth of your bed and the safety of your apartment.
The echoes of your footsteps pierce your ears, but then there is something else; something that makes your skin break out in goosebumps. You halt in fear.
A voice? A faint cry for help?
For a moment you think your mind is playing tricks on you. Being alone at night sometimes does. You take a slow and cautious step forward, but you hear it again.
It sounds like a child. You widen your eyes.
Listening intently, you locate where they are. The sound is coming from the side of a nearby vacant building on a narrow dimly lit street.
“Nope,” you utter.
There is no way you are going to investigate the sound. But on the other hand, a kid might be in trouble. What they are doing outside after dark is a mystery. You groan in frustration, walking to the corner of the building.
“Is someone there?” You ask.
There is silence at first, then a pained voice cries out.
“Please. My leg is hurt.”
Your heart pounds in your chest. You peek around the side to see a young boy sitting in the street. A bicycle too large for him is resting on the ground with a bent wheel frame. It looks like someone may have hit him and ran.
And there's blood on his hands and face.
You rush to his side, taking out your phone in case you need to call an ambulance, but as you are looking him over you can't seem to find a single wound.
“Where did this blood come from?” You ask in confusion.
The boy points his finger at the building and against the wall, you see a man’s body. A large bloody chunk of skin and tissue is missing from his shoulder and his head is caved in. Your eyes widen and you turn them to the bicycle frame, noticing hair and blood covering the spokes.
What is going on?
You hear a low gurgle in your ear and turn to see a pair of red gleaming eyes staring at you. A trail of saliva leaks from the boy's mouth.
“What––”
He lunges at you before you can form a question and sinks his fanged teeth into your arm. The pain is unbearable. A horrified scream tears from your throat as a result. The boy releases you and cackles, sweeping a lengthy and narrow tongue across his blood-stained lips.
He's a monster. It takes you a minute to process – monsters don’t exist, do they? – but when it’s clear that he is going to do to you the same horrible thing he did to the unnamed man, you panic. Shoving him away with all the strength you can muster, you run. To where you aren’t sure, but you know for the sake of your life that you must get away.
But it’s not that easy.
A sudden weight on your back knocks you off your feet and onto your stomach, forcing the air from your lungs; your phone and candy box lands out of reach. Coughing in protest, you are aware that the child is sitting on your lower back.
“Where are you going, big sister? Don't you want to play with me too?” The boy asks.
You sob in horror, clawing at the ground in an attempt to get free, or to at least reach your phone. But his weight is too much to bear. It feels like a ton of bricks is pressing you into the asphalt.
The boy laughs and buries his fingers into your hair, forcing your cheek against the ground.
“Brother tried to run too, so I broke him. Humans aren't very good toys. But they taste so good.”
Is he serious? What kind of sick person does that?
You choke on your tears. The fact that you are going to die seems unreal, and as the instinct to fight leaves your body, you shut down. It’s over. You’re as good as dead.
As the warm unpleasant breath of the monster hits your face, an unexpected current ripples through the air. The hair on your arms stands straight and the sweet pungent aroma of ozone permeates your nose.
Is it about to storm?
The monster growls and releases you for some reason unbeknownst to you, standing up near your shaking body. It seems to be staring in anger at something in the distance, but you are far too worn out to look.
“I’m not afraid––”
A yellow light suddenly zips past you and interrupts the monster, then to your horror, when your eyes clear, its headless body falls into a motionless heap beside you. What in the fuck? You watch in confusion as it reduces to ash, fading to nothing. All that remains of the monster is its clothes.
What is going on? You can't seem to understand. There is no logical explanation.
Not to mention you are weak. Your mind feels like it is lost in a warm haze.
“Please, someone, help me,” you sob.
The pain is too much.
Hearing the quiet patter of shoes on the asphalt, a person comes into your view. He has uneven blond hair – an unnatural color that is not worn by many in the region – and is wearing a black mask over his mouth and nose. But what concerns you the most about him, is the katana in his hand.
Does he hear you? His eyes are closed, almost like he is asleep.
You watch him lean down through blurry eyes and pick up the paperboard box, taking out the cupcake. He takes a bite, then opens his soft brown eyes in alarm.
“Where am I?” he asks, looking around.
The blond notices the katana in his hand and shrieks in fear.
“I went out alone again!”
Whatever internal battle he is having with himself, you do not care. You reach over and grab his pant leg, making him shriek again. But once he sees your condition, he takes a sharp breath. His face turns red.
“I’m so tired,” you utter.
“Rest, and I will take care of you,” he says softly.
You want to live. You sob as you can no longer see him. As the darkness consumes you, his warm hand on your cheek brings you some comfort. At least you aren’t alone.
It’s so cold, that you can hardly stand it. Is this what death is like?
Opening your eyes with a groan, you untangle the blanket from your waist, yanking it up to your chin. It takes you a moment to realize that you are awake; the notion comes as a surprise to you.
I’m not dead.
How? Maybe it was a dream.
No, you think.
The pain is too real. It feels like someone tore your arm out of the socket. You test your fingers pleased that you are able to move them. And now that you know you are OK, you can focus on figuring out where you are.
The room you are in is akin to that of a hospital, but there are no windows and the air reeks of bleach and dust. It reminds you of a basement. There is a thick sheet separating your bed from the rest of the room and no red call button to alert a nurse that you are awake. All in all, you are alone and confused.
Did the blond leave you here?
You frown.
“Where are you?”
You have many questions to ask him.
“Are you referring to me?” a familiar voice asks.
You gasp in shock as the sheet yanks back; the blond emerges from behind it. You are pleased to see him. Only he looks a bit different. The mask is missing from his face and a bamboo skewer rests in the corner of his mouth. Is he eating your dangos?
Your stomach growls in protest.
“I hope that did not come from the pink box I was carrying,” you mention with a glare.
“It did, and they were good,” the blond replies. “I’ve never heard of Amaku before, but I like their sweets.”
A sense of pride consumes you.
“It’s my shop in Akita, or rather co-owned shop,” you mention.
“I’ll remember that,” he states.
He tilts his head, staring at your arm in concern.
“How does it feel?”
You reach up on instinct and touch the bandage around your left shoulder.
“It’s tender, but at least it’s there,” you answer.
“I never would have forgiven myself if such a pretty woman like you had been maimed or killed,” the blonde mentions. His face turns red.
The events of last night come rushing back to you and you frown. That’s right. The monster almost killed and ate you. Warm tears blur your sight.
“Did I make you cry?” The blond asks in fear.
Rushing over to your side, he cups your face and uses his thumbs to wipe away the stray tears. You widen your eyes, feeling your face turn red in embarrassment. What is he doing?
“Let me make it up to you. We can share the last dango, or we can get married.”
Does he think he is being sly? You grab the pillow, whacking him on the head with it.
“Why did you hit me?!” The blond cries, covering his face.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but you are acting like a pervert,” you answer striking him over and over.
Seeing him cower triggers a memory. You halt, eyes wide in fear. The events from last night break through your guard and flood your thoughts. The body, the monster, you on the brink of death; it’s too much. How did you not realize the intensity of the situation until now?
“I … want to ask you a question,” you utter.
The blond peeks at you from between his fingers.
“As long as you don’t hit me anymore,” he states.
“The boy last night who attacked me. Was he a monster?” You ask.
He frowns.
“That's not up to me to explain. But I know someone who can; if he sees it fit to.”
You hum.
“Please ask him. I need to know.”
The blond turns and walks toward the door, but you call out to him.
“What is your name?”
He peeks over his shoulder with a smile.
“It's Zenitsu.”
You smile and introduce yourself.
“I owe you my life,” you add.
His face turns red.
“Does that mean accept my marriage proposal?”
Is he serious? Your toss the pillow at his head, feeling embarrassed by his blunt question. Did he have no shame?
“You’re a creep!”
Zenitsu points a finger at you.
“You lied! You said that you wouldn’t hit me again.”
You glare at him.
“I'll do much worse than that if you ever ask me again.”
Zenitsu squeaks and runs out of the room.
It's hard to believe that he is the same person from last night. You take an uneasy breath and rest against the bed. There is nothing else to do but wait. Whoever the unnamed man is, you hope he can answer your questions.
Time creeps on. An hour passes – according to the clock on the wall – then another. And still, no one shows. Maybe Zenitsu could not persuade the unnamed man to speak with you. Feeling let down, you are at least pleased that you are alive. Even so, you are traumatized.
Are there more of whatever the boy is out there on the streets? And how are you supposed to tell them apart from humans? He had appeared to be normal until his eyes changed. You wonder if you can even have a normal life now that you have seen the monster. In the back of your mind, you know that they are out there lurking in the shadows.
A sudden knock on the door causes you to jerk in fear, and before you can wonder who is on the other side, Zenitsu walks in. Behind him is a hulking man wearing a suit. You widen your eyes, watching him sit on the edge of the bed across from you. His eyes are white with no visible irises or pupils, and though he appears blind, he seems to get around rather well.
“How are you feeling, Miss?” He asks softly.
“Um, I’m fine I guess,” You answer.
All things considered.
Tears pour down the man’s face.
“I apologize that our base doesn’t have an elaborate infirmary, but we are well-staffed in doctors.”
Why is he crying?
“It’s not an issue. Though I’m a little confused as to where I am,” You mention.
“You are in Aomori in the Tohoku region. My lieutenant brought you here,” the man answers. “But where are my manners. My name is Himejima Gyomei.”
You raise a brow. Lieutenant? Does he mean Zenitsu?
“I was told that you have questions. Understand that you may not like the answers, but you are obligated to ask them,” Gyomei mentions.
What sort of horror awaits you? You clear your throat; you have every right to know the truth.
“I want to know as much as you can tell me about what happened to me and why.”
Gyomei merely nods.
“The creature that attacked you was a part of an ancient race of immortal beings known as a demon. There are hundreds of them lurking in the darkness around Japan, and their primary diet is humans. Do not think for a moment that you are cursed or have been chosen by them. You were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you are fortunate.”
Demons? As unbelievable as it sounds, you know that the child you had encountered was not human. If you had not witnessed it yourself, you would have laughed at Gyomei.
“And Zenitsu managed to kill it with a katana,” You point out.
“I was so scared I passed out again,” the blond mentions with a shiver.
Gyomei nods.
“More or less. Zenitsu and I come from a long line of demon slayers, and though our methods are a secret, I can tell you that there are hundreds of us across each region. For instance, I am known as the Stone Pillar of Tohoku.”
So, they kill demons? But then why did no one save the man who had been killed before you had showed up? You have a feeling Gyomei isn’t telling you something.
“I know that it’s hard to understand, but it’s best not to concern yourself with our business,” the said man mentions. “If you have no other questions, then Zenitsu will escort you to the exit. Demons only come out during the night, so there is nothing to fear when the sun is out.”
You raise a brow. Is that it? No promises to keep you safe, or what to do once the sun goes down. Your suspicions about them grow.
“I have no more questions,” you lie.
You have many, but you doubt that Gyomei will answer them.
The said man nods and stands up.
“Sorry for your misfortune.”
He leaves you alone with Zenitsu, exiting the room.
“The Boss is scary, isn’t he?” The blond asks. He laughs and motions for you to follow him.
You take an uneasy breath and stand with a grunt. Your shoes are near the bed, so you don’t have to search for them. A question comes to mind, and you hum.
“I forgot to ask about my arm. Will it be OK?”
Zenitsu nods.
“It should be. You had to have a lot of stitches and it may leave a scar, but if treat it like an animal attack, dress and clean the wound, then it shouldn’t become infected.”
That is good to know.
You slide on your shoes and frowned as you see the state of your uniform. Your coworkers are going to lose their shit. The fabric is torn and covered in blood. Damn. What are you to do?
Seeing movement from the corner of your eye, your face turns red once you notice that Zenitsu has removed his yellow jacket, handing it to you.
“You can borrow it if you don’t want to draw attention,” he mentions.
You thank him and slide it on. The jacket doesn’t fit well, but you don’t mind. You shove your phone and house keys into your pocket and take in his scent. At least he smells good.
“You look so cute in my clothes,” Zenitsu coos.
You ignore him and march from the room; your face is red from embarrassment. Once Zenitsu catches up, he leads you down the hall and up a flight up steps. You are right to assume that you are in a basement, but you never expected the house or whatever you are in to be so big. It reminds you of a traditional manor with tatami mats on the floor and rooms blocked with shoji screens.
“This place is nice,” You mention.
“This is Boss Gyomei’s manor. But the commission I make is enough to live comfortably,” Zenitsu explains.
You raise a brow. Do people commission him?
“You get paid for killing demons?”
“Something like that. We receive a request, then we go out and kill the demon causing the problem and we get paid,” he answers.
You narrow your eyes.
“I thought the Pillars protected the regions. What happens if the client doesn’t have money, but a demon is harassing them?”
“You don’t want to know the answer to that,” Zenitsu answers in low voice.
There is something off about them. The demon slayers are an organized crime group who profit off the clients who pay them for their protection. But then, why did Zenitsu save you?
“How much does a job cost?”
“Around 200 million yen, including clean-up costs,” the blond answers.
You feel faint.
“I don’t have that sort of money.”
Does Gyomei expect you to pay him back? You never asked for his help.
“Since I acted on my own accord, the Boss doesn’t except for you to pay him, but the clean-up cost still applies,” Zenitsu explains with a laugh.
“H-how much is that?” You asks.
Zenitsu hums.
“I think it’s 2%.”
“I don’t have 4 million yen! That’s ridiculous!” You shout.
The blond looks over at you and smiles.
“You are fortunate that Boss Gyomei has a kind heart. If you had ended up in debt with the Wind Pillar or the Snake Pillar, then you’d have to work until you die.”
Who is he kidding? You have to pay the cleaning cost. You groan.
“I’m never going to be able to make that much yen.”
“Not to mention, you owe me too. I could have died out there,” Zenitsu whines.
You are starting to think it would have been easier if the demon had just ate you. There is no telling how much Zenitsu is asking for.
“Don’t look so down. I’ll see if the Boss will ignore the cleaning cost, and as for my payment, well, I’ll let you know when I think of something,” the said man mentions.
How considerate of him. You feel worn out and defeated. You follow Zenitsu to the entrance of the manor and glare at his chipper expression.
“Just head over the bridge and you should be back in the city,” he explains. “I’ll see you soon.”
You hope not. You grumble a curse at him and leisurely walk towards the bridge as he had instructed. All you want to do at this point is to go home and go to bed. But you have a story to makeup and a co-owner to call.
It is going to be one hell of a day.
Nearly two weeks pass before you are able to return to work. Your arm is still a bit tender, but at least it doesn’t hurt as bad as it had before. You had told your co-workers that a stray had knocked you down and bit you. It isn’t a complete lie, but it also isn’t without consequence. Your co-workers make you take a taxi home every night; your funds are taking a beating and you still have not heard from Gyomei about your debt. Or seen Zenitsu for that matter.
Not like it matters. You have a lot to worry about. Currently, you are at Amaku, having to work behind the counter because of your arm, but on occasion, you sneak into the kitchen to help make Monaka with ice cream filling.
When it becomes night, it begins to rain. You know that the flow of customers will slow down, so you take a moment to use the bathroom.
You are washing your hands when someone knocks on the door.
“There's someone in here,” you declare.
“It's me,” Hisae announces.
You turn up your eyes in a spirited manner and unlock the door, letting your co-worker.
“I was about to come out. You could have waited,” You mention.
“Fat chance,” Hisae snorts. “Besides, I wanted to be the one to surprise you.”
You raise a brow.
“I'm lost,” you admit.
“There's a delinquent man here to see you,” Hisae mentions.
What is she going on about?
“I don't know any delinquents, let alone any men.”
“He seems to know you,” Hisae utters with a pout.
You turn up your eyes and walk out of the bathroom to see for yourself what Hisae is been talking about. As you round the corner into the customer area, your eyes widen upon seeing the familiar blond. You slide back around the corner and hid.
“Zenitsu,” you utter. Your face feels warm.
Of course, it is him. He did say that he’d be seeing you around. But why did he have to show up at Amaku? And in front of your co-workers.
“So, you do know him,” Hisae mentions.
You shake your head in agreement. There is no point in lying.
“When were you going to tell us you were seeing someone?” Hisae asks.
“I'm not,” You argue.
You hush her and try to listen to what he and Shouko are talking about. All you can hear is your co-worker reciting the menu to him.
“It all sounds so good,” Zenitsu mentions. “What do you suggest?”
You groan and step out into the open.
“I suggest you buy something and leave,” you express. “It's almost closing time.”
Zenitsu shouts your name in glee.
You face heats up. Does he not hear you?
“Zenitsu came here from Aomori to escort you home. Isn't that sweet?” Shouko asks.
“It's a bit creepy,” you admit.
“Creepy?” Zenitsu asks. He walks to your side and puts his arm around you. An umbrella dangling from a cord around his wrist dampens your uniform, making you curl your nose. “But that's what a boyfriend does.”
You elbow him in the ribs.
“Why are you so mean to me?” Zenitsu asks with a cough.
“Because, dear, that's how I show my love,” You tease.
Shouko raises a brow.
“So, you two are dating?”
You sigh. Poor Shouko is terrible at reading the room.
“He looks like a delinquent,” Hisae points out, motioning towards her head.
“This is actually my natural color,” Zenitsu admits.
Hisae laughs.
“Sure it is.”
She walks behind the counter and stands next to Shouko.
“How long have you and Mister Delinquent been dating behind our backs?” She asks.
Hisae wears a smile but her eyes are unnerving.
“We're not––“
“A week,” Zenitsu answers.
You take an uneasy breath.
“We met at the clinic. Zenitsu works there and helped treat my arm after the stray bit me. But we’re not dating.”
You turn up your eyes upon hearing him openly whine over your answer. It is bad enough that you are lying; you are not about to pretend to be in a relationship with him.
“We close in 20 minutes, but you are free to stay around until we lock up, Zenitsu,” Shouko offers.
The blond smiles.
“Thank you.”
Hisae and Shouko return to the kitchen, leaving you alone with him.
You sigh.
“What did you come here for? The real reason.”
Zenitsu hushes you.
“We’ll discuss it back at your apartment,” he answers in a whisper.
You have a terrible feeling you know what the blond wants to discuss; the word debt is crawling around in your head like a cockroach. Merely nodding, you return to the counter and check the online app. No last-minute orders have been made, so you begin to bag the display candies and cakes, even going out of your way to make Zenitsu a to go box.
Once the shop is clean and locked up, You wish your co-workers a good night and usher Zenitsu outside. The rain seems to have lightened up a bit, but you still aren’t eager to walk home in such clammy weather. Perhaps a taxi is easier.
“At least the station won’t be crowded tonight,” Zenitsu mentions.
“Yeah, I––”
You lose your train of thought when you see the bright smile on his face and the umbrella over his head.
“You only have one umbrella.”
“Why would I need another?” the blond asks unashamedly.
You glare at him. Of course. You walk to his side and stand as close as possible to him to prevent the rain from pouring down on you.
“If I get sick, then I am going to choke you,” you utter.
Zenitsu laughs.
“Stay close to me.”
A sweet scent akin to the ozone radiates off him. You turn your head to take in his scent ashamed of the action.
Now who is being a creep, your mind teases.
Eat my ass, you snap, as sharp as a whip.
Are you seriously arguing with yourself? You take an uneasy breath.
“So, I see you don’t have your katana.”
Zenitsu hums.
“I don’t always need it.”
“But what if a demon attacks you tonight?” You ask.
How is he going to protect himself?
“I didn’t think about that!” The blond shouts. Tears gather in his eyes.
“Are you ignorant or something? How do you not think about that?” You ask in disbelief. “A demon could swoop in and tear out your eyes and you’d be a free meal.”
Zenitsu glares at you.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! I don’t want to die!”
You hush him. His rant is starting to draw attention from passing people. He has a big mouth.
“No more demon talk, I swear,” you utter. “So please calm down.”
Zenitsu nods in agreement.
Honestly, you aren’t sure how he is still alive. You sigh; you were right, a taxi would have been easier.
Arriving at your apartment, you unlock the door and usher Zenitsu inside. You are a bit nervous about him being in your apartment – chores had fallen behind since your injury – but not as nervous as you were walking home from the station. At least with a demon slayer at your side, you feel a little more at ease.
“Do you want something to drink?” You ask, watching the blond glance around the room – you apartment isn’t too impressive; you have a 1 bedroom 1 bathroom space with an attached kitchen and little to no closet room.
Zenitsu hums, lifting the to-go box that you made him.
“I have all I want.”
“Then make yourself at home, but don’t get my couch wet,” You order.
He removes his damp coat and sits down on the couch.
You pour yourself a drink from the fridge, then join him in the living room, grinning as the blond seems to enjoy the sweets you packed him. Your face heats up and you clear her throat.
“You wanted to discuss something with me,” you bring up.
Zenitsu licks the remnants of an Ichigo daifuku from his fingers and hums.
“My visit regards your debt to Boss Gyomei.”
You thought so. You sigh.
“What is the damage?”
“The 200 million you owe is squared away. I came by to tell you that I went ahead and paid the cleaning cost for you.”
He did? You widen your eyes.
“Why? I’m a complete stranger to you. There is no reason for you to have done that.”
“Even people like us can do something good for another,” Zenitsu answers. “And besides, I like you too much to see you buried in debt because of one bad day. If Amaku went under, you’d never talk to me again.”
You smile despite your best effort to control your emotions. Warm tears sting your eyes.
“You’re damn right. But now I owe you another favor.”
Zenitsu grins.
“I know what to ask for too.”
“If it’s for me to marry you, then no,” you reply, sharp as a whip.
The blond groans.
“I could die though.”
“That’s on you,” you utter. “But, maybe I can take you out one afternoon.”
His face turns red.
“My wife is asking me on a date.”
You playfully turn up your eyes. For a coward and a flirt, Zenitsu is rather adorable. It feels good to be wanted. A sense of desire washes over you.
“As for the second favor,” you utter. “Close your eyes.”
Zenitsu raises a curious brow but closes them regardless.
You lean over and gently kiss him on the cheek, pleased as the heat rising from his face warms your lips. You smile and veer away.
“I hope that will be enough.”
Zenitsu turns to you and in that brief moment that your eyes peer into his, you are captivated. You aren’t sure what comes over you, but you want more.
“I want to kiss you,” you admit.
“O-ok,” the blond utters.
You link your hand with his and lean in, pressing your lips against his. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as Zenitsu kisses you back. A soft wet smack meets your ears as you separate from him, but as soon as you do, the blond bends in and kisses you again, only with a bit more pressure.
You moan softly and lock your lips around his lower one, sweeping the tip of your tongue over it. You are pleased when Zenitsu reciprocates. With light touches, you toy with him, using your tongue to tag his own, only for him to hum and lift his hands to your face. Deepening the kiss, a wave of pleasure sweeps across your body, causing your nipples to harden as a result.
Raising your arm, you run your fingers through his hair, parting from him; a thin lead of saliva links you to Zenitsu until you run your tongue over your lips. Your breath comes out hot and thick as you press a kiss to his jaw, then veer over, sucking gently on his ear lobe.
Zenitsu groans and clutches your upper thigh, reaching for the button on your pants.
You sit up on your knees and remove them, then crawl into his lap. His hard cock presses against the lining of your panties, urging you to grin. You ease his head back, giving him another closed mouth kiss, then part your lips and run your tongue across his lower lip. As Zenitsu opens his mouth, you reach down and undo his pants.
A groan leaves his mouth as you take his cock in your hand and stroke it. You want him badly. You move aside your panties and position yourself over him, but Zenitsu clutches your arm.
“W-wait!”
You widens your eyes and part from him. Your face is hot with embarrassment. Did you do something wrong? Perhaps he doesn’t want to go further with you.
“Do you want to stop?” You ask.
Zenitsu shakes his head no.
“I don’t have a condom.”
You smile gently.
“I have one in the bedroom. Give me a moment.”
You reluctantly crawl from his lap and hurry into your bedroom, searching through the side table where you keep them. You are fortunate; Zenitsu is a considerate man. You tear a packet from the container and briskly walk back into the living room.
Handing it to him, you remove your panties and wait for Zenitsu to roll the condom down onto his cock, then resume your spot. You lean up on your knees and spread yourself, sinking onto him until you are seated in his lap. Your walls clench as a result and though it hurt for a moment, you feel utterly full.
You groan and clutch the backrest, rocking your hips a slight bit to get a feel for him. Zenitsu grabs your hips and urges you to move, thrusting into you when you bounce your lower body. It takes you a minute with his urgent need to fuck you in order to find a decent rhythm, but once you do, a gentle sensation begins to grow in your stomach.
It isn’t enough to push you over the edge, but having him inside you drives you mad. Your breath comes out in short pants as Zenitsu quickens his pace, wrecking your pussy with deep and quick thrusts. You try your best to keep up, sliding your arms around his shoulders for leverage, rocking your hips.
Hearing Zenitsu groan, you feel his hips shudder. His thrusts switch between fast and deep to slow. Then he stalls, bottoming out in you with a moan.
You pant in exhaustion, grinning as the blond does the same. Your throat is dry, but you are still eager to continue. The grip on you eases up and Zenitsu helps you slide off his lap.
He removes the condom and ties the top to prevent his cum from leaking out, but as he goes to stand, you stop him.
“I didn’t get off,” you mention.
Zenitsu widens his eyes.
“You didn’t?”
You answer his question with a shake of your head. Lying down on the couch, you motion for the blond to come over. He sits the used condom aside and hovers over you, peering into your eyes.
“Give me a minute and––”
“Go down on me,” you beg.
The blond smiles. He slides between your legs and lifts them over his shoulders, resting on his stomach.
You hum as his finger trace your tight hole, entering you. It isn’t a cock, but honestly, you don’t mind. Once he adds another finger, he begins to curl them inside you. Zenitsu spreads your outer lips and leans down to run his tongue over you clit; the warmth of his breath sends chills across your body. Your walls clench around his fingers as he thrusts them into your eager pussy.
You arch your back, panting as his pace quickens. The tension is driving you insane. You want to cum so bad, but you aren’t quite there yet.
“A little lower,” you beg.
Zenitsu raises his head and takes a breath, then does as you instruct, flicking his tongue over the very spot you need in order to curl you toes. Yes! Your thighs tighten around his head.
Shutting your eyes, you focus on the sensation coursing through you. Your mind wanders over to a few minutes ago when the blond had fucked you. Had you been comfortable with your words you would have begged Zenitsu to make you cum; you would have assured him that you belonged to him and no one else. Oh, how you wanted to.
Your face heats up as the tension in your stomach escalates. You are close. Taking an uneasy breath, your hands wander, teasing and pinching your hardened nipples. The pain is ecstasy; a perfect blend that brings out an airy moan. A familiar and long-awaited sensation tickles you.
“Don’t stop,” you plead.
Zenitsu closes his lips around your clit and brushes his tongue against you in a way that makes you grind against him.
It is too much to handle. A wave of pleasure crashes over you, filling your body with warmth as you cum. You open your eyes, but your vision is blurred by tears. Once your high begins to fade and your body relaxes, you ease your legs from Zenitsu’s shoulders and took a deep breath; your core is throbbing in reaction.
“Thank you,” you utter.
Zenitsu sits up and wipes his mouth clean. His cheeks are red and his breath is labored, but he smiles.
Groaning, you sit up and hum. You are exhausted. Taking a look at the clock on the wall, you frown.
“It’s late,” you mention.
Zenitsu hums.
“Do you want me to go?”
You shake your head no.
“You can stay if you want.”
You aren’t sure what the consequences of having sex with Zenitsu will have on your potential relationship with him – if there is one – but wondering what-if can wait for another time.
You stretch and stand up with a grunt.
“I’m going to clean up, then go to bed. You can sleep on the couch if you want, or join me in the bedroom.”
The blond smiles.
“I’ll lay beside you however long you let me.”
You are relieved. To be honest, you feel safer with him around. Perhaps you will never leave your bed again.
A girl can dream.
#demon slayer#zenitsu agatsuma#demon slayer fanfic#zenitsu x reader#aged-up characters#mafia au#emsyakuza900#gyomei himejima#demon slayer smut#one-shot
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Don't Go to Bars Alone || Owen & Ariadne
TIMING: Very recent, but before the Goo.
LOCATION: The Wormhole
PARTIES: Owen @apaininyourneck and Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock
SUMMARY: Ariadne tries to go to a bar (The Wormhole), and meets Owen. :/ This is not a slayer she can charm so easily. They talk, and Owen is Owen.
CONTENT WARNING: Implication of a creepy coworker of Owen's but nothing happens. Also mentions of alcohol and smoking.
Ariadne had only gone to a bar to prove something. It was the one that Matty had mentioned, ages ago, and even if she didn’t have the combat boots or leather jacket to really fit in, she felt a desperate need to prove (both to herself and to Chance) that she could go out and do wild things, that she wasn’t some scared little mouse. Her dark-wash jean jacket and some non-pastel-colored dress would have to do the job. Plus, if she was going somewhere completely unlike her, she had to dress like she fit in. She wondered if Celene or Inge would be proud of her embracing a darker side of herself. She certainly felt more mare-like. She hoped they’d be proud. If they were, and if Chance was, then that’d make three whole people who she adored and who she looked up to happy.
Which made her happy. Maybe she’d bring Chance back a snack from the bar. If bars did that. Ariadne wasn’t sure, but she figured that was what this all was for.
She at least knew that she wasn’t supposed to knock at the doors of bars. So Ariadne just entered, and was a bit surprised when she wasn’t even carded. Maybe she looked or seemed older than she thought. Which was fascinating, considering even though she was twenty-one, she was also technically still nineteen, in many ways. The thought gave her an unusual boost of confidence and she went up to the bar and ordered something she’d heard Chance mention before. Taking a sip, she glanced around the bar, before one of the men behind the bar was talking to her again. In a way that she did not so much enjoy. Not a total creep, but there was something about him that was unsettling, though Ariadne didn’t know if that was just the alcohol talking. He’d hit on someone else earlier, and it wasn’t in a sweet sort of way. So, emboldened some combination of alcohol and outfit, she followed him out back, fingers tapping against her thigh. “Hey.” She flashed him a smile, somehow grateful for the choice of red lipstick (which she’d bought after Alex had told her to listen to Taylor Swift, because apparently Taylor Swift sometimes wore that). “You - you know you’re supposed to uh, treat people with respect. I - I’m not sure if I -” she continued, tripping over her words. “You’re supposed to be nice.”
The man scoffed at her, though not before giving her a once over. Which made Ariadne feel all sorts of icky. So she took a few steps forward. She was supposed to practice her skills and abilities, right? That was the only way she’d ever get better? So she offered him a small smile, internally apologizing in her head to Wynne, who was the usual recipient of those smiles. Though, with them, it was never forced. Ariadne shook her head, forcing herself to focus, before she brought her hand up to his forehead and watched him collapse in a heap.
Being too busy at work was never fun but still, it was preferable to working shifts with Dave. The guy was a smarmy dick, harsh words coming from Owen who could usually pride himself on being both of those things, but his colleague for tonight was just… pathetic. His attempts at flirting had all the grace of a slap to the face and it was a wonder that he hadn’t managed to scare every single female out of the bar by this point. So when the man proudly announced that he was going for a smoke break, Owen was relieved for a moment of reprieve. Had he mentioned that the guy never fucking stopped talking?
Even so, when the five minute break turned into ten and there was still no sign of return, Owen rolled his eyes. The mention of a smoke had gotten him antsy for one as well and ten minutes was overkill to finish off a cigarette. Stupid fucker was probably out there mourning the lack of activity on some dating app. With a sigh that was closer to a grumble than anything else, Owen slapped the bartop and pointed at one of his regulars. “Anyone fucks anything up in the next five minutes, it’s your ass. Keep ‘em in line.” With that, he moved for the back door, ready to tear Dave a new one.
“Dry your eyes and get inside, fucker. Break time is-” He paused. The distinct crawl of his skin hit Owen at the same time he saw Dave’s useless body crumpled on the floor, where he looked to be… snoring? Stepping outside slowly, he let the door close behind him and spotted who had to be the cause of the tingling down his back. Not a vampire, but something. “Everything alright out here?” he asked slowly, words tinted with suspicion as he took in the girl. She barely looked old enough to be in here, not that their bouncers really cared enough to card anyone.
Everything alright out here? Ariadne looked up at the man who’d just exited the bar. Well, this certainly wasn’t at all in her plan for the night. “I - uh, yeah!” She chirped, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, wishing she had bubble-gum to pop for the added effect of seeming normal. Normal, and even a bit clueless. Which normally she wouldn’t relish in, but a collapsed sleeping guy next to her meant that all bets of everything else were off.
“He’s - he fell asleep.” Which wasn’t a lie, exactly. “Or like, fell over, I don’t know. He followed me out here, I just wanted a break for - um - something. Smoking!” Which made her involuntarily gag, but she couldn’t take that back now. “Do - why are you out here?” Which was not the best sort of thing to just ask someone, especially someone who very clearly worked or at least fit in at the bar. “I - does that door lock behind you?” Ariadne sighed. “I - I’ll go now, uh, I should go, yeah.”
Owen had met his fair share of liars, some of them decent, others very talented. This young girl was neither, falling over her words in a painful display of innocence. A less suspicious man might have let her go since she didn’t exactly give off vibes of fear and death but Owen knew what she was. Well, sort of. “Yeah, he does follow young girls outside sometimes” he replied with a glance at the snoring man, leaning against the now closed doors, arms crossing.
“Nah, no need to rush,” he cut in as she started her attempt to run away, pulling out the pack of smokes from his pocket. “I came out here to do the same thing as you. And don’t worry if you forgot yours, I can lend you one.” Obviously not a smoker, her fingers too clean and her nose too scrunched up at merely the thought. Might be fun to see how far she would take the lie, though. “And don’t worry about the door, we can walk in together once we’re finished here.” Whatever that might entail.
Lighting up one cigarette, Owen passed it to the young girl before lighting another for himself, smoke swirling around her as he watched intently. “So which is it? He fell asleep or he fell over?”
“That’s not very nice to do!” Ariadne nearly squeaked. “The following girls outside thing.” She wanted to shrink into herself, but now was not the time for that. Not if she wanted to hold her own against anyone who worked in that bar. She was, however, going to mention to Matty that maybe this bar wasn’t so much her vibe. No offense, of course, but she just didn’t love it.
And he had cigarettes on him. Great. Ariadne could think of just about every PSA she’d gotten at school, but she was dead anyhow, so would it do her a great deal of harm? If it got the man to ignore her, to realize that she was just clueless and innocent (however much of a lie that might’ve been), she’d deal. “Yeah, I did realize I forgot, and then I thought I’d look so stupid if I went back in, and then back out so I’d love one, yeah.” And about a whole bag of gummy worms when she got home, to get whatever taste would come all out of her mouth. “Good, yeah, we can walk in. Unless – wait, you’re not gonna hit on me, are you?”
She took the cigarette and held it to her lips, the smell making her fight against wrinkling her nose. “He fell asleep and, uh, then he fell over. Like, boom,” Ariadne half dropped her posture, before looking back over to the man. “I dunno what happened. Sorry, I mean, why.” She coughed, involuntarily. “Thanks for the smoke.” Another cough. “I bet he’ll wake up soon, though.”
Owen shrugged in agreement. “Yeah, he’s a fucking dick.” This whole scenario probably would have gone down a lot different if the young girl in front of him wasn’t, Owen had gathered, a mare. No one would ever accuse the slayer of being a pure hearted saint but stalking down very uninterested girls back into an alley definitely crossed his very blurred line of right and wrong. If Dave had been out here harassing someone instead of snoring on the ground, Owen probably would have fucked him up himself. But since the mare had taken care of that herself…
Her sudden worry was understandable, given that she’d just been followed out here, and very ironic considering that was the last thing she needed to be focused on right now. “Please. I like my women to be of at least drinking age, preferably a bit more.” Watching her fumble with the cigarette was amusing in and of itself, face fighting against the instinct to recoil from the smell. The fumbled lie would have been cute, if it hadn’t been delivered by a mare caught red handed. “Hmm. Guess he was just really tired.”
A pause as the girl coughed, body rejecting the cigarette she obviously had no experience smoking, before Owen took a single step towards her. “So, how long you been a mare, then?”
“He does seem to be rather impolite, yes.” She tugged at her hair, trying to find something – anything, really – to do with her hands because of whatever nervousness being here had inspired.
“Good for you, I guess?” Ariadne scrunched up her face. “Also you’re not my type, either. I prefer people with – well, who don’t – who have kinder smiles.” That was the most she could manage right now, as far as retorts went. It wasn’t good, even she could tell that, but she certainly didn’t have anything more eloquent or, realistically, better in any sort of way whatsoever.
“Yes. Really tired. There’s stuff that can make you just collapse, I think.”
Ariadne felt tense, itchy all over. She really was the worst at lying, wasn’t she?
She’d figured she could find some sort of excuse to leave, because she didn’t need or want to go back into the bar, but then the strange tall man asked her something that made her stop cold in her tracks (if she had been in a more humorous mood, she would’ve found the fact that someone like her who was cold all the time couldn’t stop anything but cold). “What? I – how – just over a year.” Ariadne settled her gaze on him. “If I was one, which I’m not saying I am, so…”
This small talk, fueled by panic on one side and curiosity on the other, was humorous but getting a bit old. Owen didn’t have the slightest interest in knowing the young girl’s type, whether it was kind smiles or goddamn tentacles.
The most interesting question of all garnered what had to be the only honest answer Owen had received this evening. Of course the girl backtracked, but it was done with the same level of expertise as the night’s previous lies, that was to say, zero. The how was interesting to hear - had she never encountered a slayer before? A decent feat if she really had been around like this for more than a year.
With a sigh, Owen took yet another step to close the distance between them, whipping out a knife from his jacket in a fluid motion. Good thing he’d grabbed it before the smoke break. “I don’t like being lied to,” he said sweetly, knife held down by his side, for now. “So why don’t you tell me what really happened to the snoring shitstain over there and then I can get back to work?”
Ariadne tensed up as Owen took another step toward her. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, or the way his voice sounded. That was a mean sort of thing to think, but she thought it nonetheless.
Her eyes shot straight to the knife as he pulled it out of his jacket. A curse and a blessing that she had perfect eyesight at nighttime, though Ariadne liked to figure that even if she hadn’t, the knife would’ve still been pretty much entirely visible.
“I - he fell asleep, okay?” She snapped, more than she would’ve liked. “He – I —” the man knew what she was, and even though Ariadne had never been all too good at guessing games, she had to figure that this also meant that he might’ve at least had a hunch about what she could do. “Fine. I made him fall asleep because I was uncomfortable.” She shrugged, still halfway folding into herself. “I didn’t hurt him, and I’d really really like to leave now.”
Large eyes focused on the knife, obviously, and as so many times before, it was a foolproof way to get anyone talking. Some people required a bit more persuasion and Owen was never hesitant to provide that but the young girl didn’t seem very experienced with all of this. Hadn’t built up a fixed attitude towards slayers. At first lies poured out, words tinted with anger that the slayer honestly hadn’t expected given how this whole conversation had gone so far. Finally though, the glint of a knife worked its magic.
“Mm, you didn’t hurt him, true,” Owen mused, the distance between them shrinking further. Playing with the knife in his hand, not brandishing it at the mare quite yet, he finally stared her down fully. “But you have hurt people before, I bet. With your freaky little nightmare powers?” There wasn’t really a purpose to this and the girl didn’t really look dangerous but Owen knew that appearances could be deceiving. What kind of a slayer would he be if he didn’t fully assess the danger before deciding whether or not the mare could go on her merry way?
She wasn’t going to cry. Even if this tall grumpy man knew just what she was, and that she had hurt someone. “I – no. I – I don’t hurt people. I don’t like to hurt people. Ever. It’s – I swear.” Ariadne very much doubted that she was proving anything to this man, but now that she was going, she found it exceptionally difficult to put a pause.
He made her feel tiny. Both of her parents were on the taller side, and she’d gotten that from them, but Ariadne had always figured that she didn’t hold her height nearly as successfully as they did. Though there were a whole heck of a lot of things that she didn’t do as well as they did.
“I won’t tell anybody at all that you brought a knife to work, I just – will be going.” She took a step to the side, toward the street. “Why would you say I hurt somebody? I know – my powers are bad, but I don’t think that’s something a knife can fix.” Ariadne’s eyes narrowed. “So like, stop? Okay??”
It was never really as fun dealing with these kinds, the ones whose necks constricted in an attempt not to cry, who pretended to be strong while lying through their teeth about their nature. Owen much preferred the monsters who bit back, screamed and shouted and fought for their vile way of living. At least right up until the end when they begged for mercy instead. “Ever?” he pushed sarcastically, cocking his head. “You’d be dead if you didn’t feed and I think I already told you I don’t like being lied to.”
Her step towards the street was mirrored by Owen, easily blocking the young girl’s way out. They weren’t finished. “I don’t know, kinda hard to give people nightmares that might kill them when you’ve met the business end of a knife,” he mused, holding the knife higher to drive the point across, dim lights glinting off the blade. “If it’s my job to get rid off things like you, why should I stop?”
“I’m – I don’t – I have to feed yes but I try to do it so that I hurt people the least possible.” Ariadne sighed, “people’ve told me that it doesn’t really hurt. That it’s just a part of what already naturally happens so… like… I might as well.” It sounded like a lie to her, too, as much as she didn’t want it to. As much as she wanted to believe Inge or Leila and tell herself that she wasn’t some sort of freakish abomination. “I’m not trying to lie.”
He wasn’t the sort of person she would’ve been friends with in high school. Even though she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have even been there at the same time because he looked older, and not in a nice big brother way. The thoughts, of course, made Ariadne feel horrible, and so she frowned at him. “That’s a - uh - weird thing to get paid for, and you should stop because I said please.” She took what must have been only a millisecond of distraction to dart around him, in an attempt to get away.
She was meek, frightened and hiding behind excuses that honestly, Owen believed. This wasn’t your regular undead playing coy, feigning innocence but rather, a young girl who actually didn’t want to hurt anyone. Shame she was what she was, then. Not that it was his problem and he didn’t exactly take pity on her for it, but he did take her word that she wasn’t trying to lie.
The sudden movement was unexpected since she had so far been working with panicked talking and ‘freezing’, so flight wasn’t something he had prepared for. Of course, his only response to anything sudden was, and always had been, fight. As the much smaller form tried to slip around him, Owen’s blade struck, not aiming to kill at the moment but definitely to incapacitate. It slipped into the girl’s side with ease before retracting, now coated in something shiny. It took a second for him to recall why the fuck before a distant bit of knowledge popped up, about the energy or whatever mares had instead of blood. “Gross,” he muttered, much preferring actual blood or the clean and simple dust vampires at least had the decency to turn into.
She tensed up when the knife entered her side, looking over at the man with wide eyes, ones that she hoped said, why would you do this?
He called it gross and even if she found the glitter somewhat beautiful, sometimes, Ariadne couldn’t help but agree with him. She was something gross, and her hand found the cut on her side quickly, hoping that it wouldn’t have done too much to damage her, but unsure, considering she hadn’t actually ever been stabbed before. “Why did you –?” She backed away from him. “That was very mean.”
Which was a given, at least to her, though Ariadne wasn’t sure if it was just as obvious to her companion. “You could’ve just left me alone. I was just leaving.” She didn’t like how much she whined. “Your friend is fine. I didn’t feed from him.” Ariadne took another few steps away for good measure, before squeezing her eyes shut, picturing her bedroom, and projecting away.
Inge would be proud, she was certain.
#wickedswriting#c owen#chatzy#writing#don't go to bars alone#// this came about in part bc hera wanted to show that owen is Really Mean#anyhow i think this went well#:)#and i love hera and i love owen even if he scares me and ariadne#harrassment tw#smoking tw#alcohol tw
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Buna Aburame: Headcannons
Well, better late than never. Here you can enjoy a little bit of the best grandpa, Buna Aburame, a charming face and kind soul.
Buna Aburame
Age Part 1 – 58 Part 2 – 61
Height - 2,15 cm
Weight – 120, 4 kg
Physical appearance: He has a rather tanned skin, it looks as if he has been his whole life under the sun, something that is partially truth but also, he was already born with that lovely soft tanned skin. He is incredible tall reaching and impressive 2meters and 15 centimetres of height. He also has a lovely round belly and softer features that let subtle hints of his past body. Although now he is rather fluffy in can be perceived that he used to be very muscular, but time has making his Akimichi side to pop up and round his features. However, he never had the sharpest out of the Aburame, although his son and grandson really looked more Aburame than him.
He is very proud of his silver mane and loves to take good care of it, loving to braid his hair in special occasions and always making sure that it looks on place. He also cares a lot about his beard which he always has it in a very decent condition and perfectly trim. It makes his chin look sharper. He has a few piercings; in each ear he has three earrings and a piercing in his right eyebrow. He also has always wanted to have a few tattoos, now that he is getting older, he is starting to ponder the idea to take that ink in. However, he is rather perfectionist and really wants to find the perfect tattoo artist and the perfect design for it.
He is also deaf since birth. Something that a lot of people are surprised by because “he doesn’t look like one”, every time that he must read the lips of someone saying something along those lines, or his family translates it to him you can Definity see his eyes flicker, but not with anger but with disdain. Talking about eyes, his are in a softer blueish-greyish colour. He usually hides them with his shades but when he is with his family or in a very comfortable environment is usual to not see him wearing them, the older he gets the more he forgets to wear them. Consequently, when he is outside in broad sunlight, you can see him squinting his eyes to try to see. It is not until either his son or one of his grandchildren appear and gives him some shades to protect his eyesight.
Psychological features: Now that he is older, he looks ever wiser than when he was a young adult or teenager. He has a very calming attitude and reassuring shoulder. He is a very loving guy with those that show that they care about him. He learnt at a young age to differentiate those that wanted to take advantage or mocking him and those that really like him. Specially when the one that he thought was the love of his live trick him and almost tried to erase from existence his real love, his child.
He is always kind to help others and has a very altruistic nature, yet the stones that he had found in his life as making him been cautious about to whom share his heart and thoughts and to whom lend a helping hand. Some people want a hand, and they ended up devouring your arm. As he would sign “I am kind, not stupid”.
Because of his hearing impairment many people judged him when he was a kid and automatically assumed that he was “below average”, quite the opposite; he is brilliant and if the clan would have let him a helping hand, he would be one of the best tacticians, but the clan thought that he would be useful in the fields taking care of crops and insects. He wasn’t suitable for a shinobi job. “It is something that they miss, although I would never like to punch a fellow” He seems to have a very pacifist nature, but do not be mistaken, do not anger him nor touch his family. He would not doubt throwing up some punches back at you.
He is a very charming guy, knowing how to please people with his words when he writes them in his small notebook, a very useful instrument for him. Not to mention, that he is a master when it comes to words. He usually writes letters to his child and grandchildren, just to cheer them up. Maybe one day Reina after crying and feeling under the weather she finds a small letter written by his grandpa, impersonating some strange mythological creature or a forest spirit that is asking for help or telling a torrid confession about how their lover has left him. Maybe a funny mouse story or a short tale about ogres and werewolves. He has a very creative mind and it shown in his little collection of letters, especially the ones that he always writes to Takeo, Tatsuma and Reina when their birthdays approach impersonating Hana.
A creative and kind mind that has learn how to stop being a people-pleaser and how to differentiate those that deserve his caring and those that do not. A gentle soul that has been forced to be rather reclusive due to people not being able to understand him or even taking the effort to do so. But he doesn’t care, since at the end of the day that means that he is truly surrounded by those that really love him, not like the rest of the people who are around people who would not even remember their names.
Background: Born from Ai Aburame and Haruka Akimichi (Granduncle of Chouza Akimichi) famous for being a Casanova. Ai Aburame fell in love with him and thought that been expecting his child would make him marry her and start forming a family. She always felt strange to her own clan, mostly because she was grossed out by her own hive and the insects surrounding the compound, forced to be a host and a shinobi like almost everyone back at those days, thought that a humble housewife life would safe her. Great mistake, Haruka kept laying around with other people to later come to her bed and lay with her too, what led to her having a herpes infection that would eventually cause his earing loss. However, back at those time it was not implied nor thought that the father’s behaviour was the cause of the child’s issue instead, the blame fell upon her.
She became a pariah for the clan, being not just useless as a kunoichi but also tainted the family with such a child. She thought many times to get rid of Buna, but somehow, she was unable to do it, instead he turned his life hell on Earth. Treating him as the clan members treated her and the world, Buna grew in this environment, where he never felt loved by anyone around him, but thanks to the books he found love there. He started to create those magical worlds, since when he read them, he was in the same conditions as anyone who dive into their pages; you can’t hear the characters talking. He found refuge in there, reading lovely parents that took care of their adventurous child he decided that he wanted to be one of them. He wanted to live the biggest of adventure with a child of his own and someone near him that loved him tenderly as he always wanted to.
The truth is that he soon was sent to the fields to work on the land, what allowed him to gain independence from his mother when he was only 16 years. Consequently, he started to prepare everything to get out of Konoha and live that adventure. However, when he was 20, he fell hard for two good friends Mei and Kentaro, he couldn’t understand what was happening. He really thought that he had found loved in both…the truth is that they have heard about the “Aburame charm” a myth that was extended among the villagers about the size and girth of Aburame’s attributes. Since the” normal” Aburames were rather reclusive and not that extroverted, yet this Aburame seemed different from the rest either eager or wanting to interact with others…So it was their chance. Buna thought that they loved him as he loved them, the truth both wanted just to taste him. As a result of their multiple encounters, she got pregnant.
She tried to get rid of the baby but time was not on her side, she had an early birth and Takeo, Buna’s son, was born premature. As a result of his mother’s action he was born without one of his arms, but…. people did not blame her; it was easier and more “logical” for them to blame Buna. After all, he was also born broken, unfinished. Takeo was left with Buna and he never knew about his mother, not he wanted to. Buna then became a rather reclusive when it came to love. He started to perceive it differently, and thought that sexual love only brought misery to those that taste it, he became someone who hated everything related with love in general… Until his teenage boy brought home a redheaded girl who looked at his son with true blessing and warmth.
Buna smiled when she tried to communicate with him using the sign that his son had thought her. She tried to interact with him, to get to know him and his son. She truly loved him. It was at that moment that Buna believed that he had been a stupid bastard for truly letting those two heartless people ruined something so pure and beautiful as love his. He found in Hana a daughter to take care of too.
Thus, he started to read once more his beloved romance novels that he had hidden away, fearing that reading those sweet lines would bring him bad memories of what aa heartbroken heart feels like. However, he found that he had never had a broken heart, his son had fixed it. There is more than one kind of love, and some of them can be more powerful and healing that the finding that person that you want to expend your life with. Buna had found that person ages ago, himself. When raising Takeo he had found that there was no one as reliable as himself, he learnt to love every imperfection and every wonderful thing about his body, his mind and soul, and her discovered that he was more than enough. He thought that to his son and tried his hardest to make him see that he wasn’t missing anything. He pushed him into pursuing his dream of becoming a shinobi and celebrate with him every achievement that others found impossible for someone with his condition to achieve. He became a jounin, regardless of what people claimed that he really was…he was the best at his job.
However, when Hana became pregnant, panic and fear possessed both, she was about to give birth to another disappointment for the clan. A broken toy like themselves, Buna would never know, but Takeo suggested her to get rid of the child, she slapped his face. She knew that it was fear talking, not his heart. When the day came a beautiful child named Tatsuma was in his arms. His grandchild…he was a grandfather. He never thought that he would never be one after everything that life had throw at him, but here he was, a miracle. He was born “perfect”. He couldn’t help it but cry and whine, after all it was broken…the filth line that he started by being born was broken. Just for being taken away by Danzo when he was five… He couldn’t stop his child, nobody could. Takeo faced the council, the elders, and the head of the clan his peer Shibi Aburame. Just to came back hurt, bleeding and hurrying his family to live Konoha.
They became pariahs once more… not deserted of their motherland, yet not welcomed there.
He always dreamt of going out of Konoha and discover new horizon, he never expected that he had to do it to escape the possibility that his land would take away from him another child: Hana was expecting another blessing, Reina.
She was born on a summer storm and as such were her screams and movements, what none expected was that her mother would only have time to breathe her name and kissed her forehead. She died that night; the doctors of the village couldn’t do anything. Takeo felt into misery and disgrace, hating the child, and even attempting to murder her, it was Buna who stopped such crazy actions, the one who took care of the early stages of Reina. Until Takeo could look at her tiny face and his rage was gone, instead sorrow and shame was brought upon his child. They never talk about those times, Takeo is ashamed of his acts and actions, Buna his hurt that he couldn’t help his son better. However, that is in the past and together they raised Reina, hoping to see once more Tatsuma and being able to sleep under Konoha’s sky, their motherland…Hoping to stop being treated as a freak.
Likes:
His family, butterflies and silkworms, fashion, smut and romance novels, poetry, mystery and horror movies, novels, and myths. Writing under the tender light of a candle. Tea, prepare tea, cultivate tea leaves, packaging his tea leaves, tea lover!!! Crochet, designing clothes and mending his family clothing. The smell of wet soil, and the feeling of the petals in his hand. Reina’s smile, Takeo chuckles and Tatsuma’s pranks. Tarot cards, making them. Stones, he loves stones and minerals. Gifting anything that he has handmade: a scarf, a teddy bear… Teach other people with hearing impairment or voice problems sign language and learn the sign language that every small community in other villages has developed. Teach sign language to those that he loves, people who make and effort to either sign or let him write what he wants to say and they do to instead of have to lip-reading everything.
Vanilla and mango flavoured stuff and his son’s cooking, he is an expert chef.
The man himself, hoping to hear your questions about this buggy-gentleperson. He is love and he is kindness!!! Thanks for reading all of this and stick around to hear more about this wonderful human.
BUG GRANDPA!!!
#onmywaytofanfic#buna aburame oc#aburame oc#aburame clan#naruto oc#naruto hcs oc#oc stuff#buna is love
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I want to talk about My Dress Up Darling. I usually tend to avoid this kind of anime because, subtextually, they tend to be quite depressive animes in my opinion - the idea in Japanese culture that the only time you're happy is in the middle-high school and so on. But My Dude (how I like to refer) is different in my opinion.
The plot seems to start with the usual "girl way out of protagonist's league fall for him" trope. Marin herself is in many best girls list for obvious reasons: beautiful, charismatic, extroverted, has self-respect, high middle class (so that she's shielded from the expectations of high class and can have more freedom in her hobbies). She just won the social-genetic lottery.
And this reflects how she treats others. Due to her good looks and charisma, she is the kind of girl that always get treated well and even gifted for no reason at all. Rewatch her interactions with Gojo when he's measuring her. She doesn't notice how she's making Gojo uncomfortable. If she were an evil person, she'd be a terror. But she's far from it.
In reality she's also a really kind person. The way she cried when she realized she didn't treat Gojo with the due respect and accidentally made him do the cosplay at the cost of his wellbeing shows that was probably the first time that she realized she has this effect on people. Therefore she started to treat Gojo with respect. And, when she falls in love with Gojo, she has the opportunity to grow as a character. The Marin of episode 1 would've more assertive and impatient in her feelings than the Marin of chapter 6, who's more mindful and is cultivating her feelings.
But what caught my attention most was Gojo. I've seen people complaining his reactions to Marin are unrealistic, but it's really not. I know it's cliche to say "this character needs therapy", but Gojo really needs to face his own feelings. It's really sad in hindsight how Gojo was traumatized due to a small, childish comment, but things like that can have a deep effect.
Due to this, Gojo basically forfeit his social skills. It should be noted that Gojo isn't a nerd, as the cliche of the genre goes. His casual clothes are a jinbei, to show how different he is, as if he belonged to a past age. That's when I noticed that My Dude's demographics is older people, because Gojo, in many aspects, has more to do with a salaryman than an otaku high school student. He's already set out to "win" capitalism, because he will be a productive member of society when he inherits his grandpa's business. He already has his life set out for him, doing what he loves. So, he doesn't "need" others. He only needs his work tools and his dolls.
He's more like a corporate drone than a high schooler. And he doesn't even know that.
That's why he doesn't understand what Marin is feeling for her. One of my favorites moments in the series was when Marin looked with pity at him while he casually says he never went to the beach. Marin is being empathetic and understanding Gojo is just different.
And Gojo's social inability is treated as a flaw and he keeps making mistakes that are consistent with this flaw. He can't understand Marin's feelings and doesn't have wingmen to nudge him into this path (the part where he finally interacts with his colleagues in the school festival was just great, it'll help him to have more friends). Unless he opens to his grandpa and by chance he can be relatable to him, his grandpa can't help him much, but they seem to live in a culture without much communication. Chapter 76 showed these problems well, with Marin showing signs of fatigue and even questioning herself and if he really likes her. If Marin wasn't Marin, she'd already moved on, but it's clear she knows Gojo is worth fighting for. And she's getting hurt in this fight.
And I'm old enough to see this happen close to me. If Marin confesses to him too early, he'll have a "wrong" reaction like running away and that will make things worse. What needs to happen is for Gojo to confront his feelings before that, for something to happen so that he can face the question "What Marin is for me?"
#my dress up darling#sono bisque doll wa koi wo suru#to be honest#i just want to grab gojo by the shoulders#and tell him to ask marin in a date#and tell her shes the most beautiful girl on the world#but that might take a while#and given the development#it needs to go slow#but at the same time#too slow might be a problem as well#also I love kind girls like marin#get me an anime where one of the protagonists is a kind girl#that you'll interest me
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SOLEDAD YILDIZ ( SHE/HER ) is a CIS WOMAN, THIRTY year old OWNER OF DELIA’S CAFE who has been living in Moorbrooke for FOUR MONTHS. They were born on MARCH 5TH and right now, they are currently residing in COPPINGFIELD CRESCENT. It has been said that they look suspiciously like HANDE ERCEL and if they had to choose a song to describe themselves, they would choose HERE COMES THE SUN by THE BEATLES.
tw: death mention, illness mention
Name: Soledad Yildiz
Age: 30
Birthday: March 5th, 1992
Birthplace: Eskişehir, Turkey
Zodiac sign: Pieces
Sexual orientation: Bisexual
Gender & pronouns: Cis woman, she/her
How The Story Goes:
Marisol was born to two loving parents, both of who adored their daughter with everything they had. She was the only child of Carmen and Ömer Yildiz. Shortly after her arrival into this world, the Yildiz’s moved from Turkey to Boston, Massachusetts, when her father got the opportunity for an excellent traveling salesman position.
Growing up, Soledad was a happy child at home. She was so infectious with her laughter and smile that her family quickly nicknamed her “Sol,” and the name was one she fell in love with from a young age. She tried her hardest to live up to it every day.
Despite the loving household Sol had, things at school were different for her. For some reason, one Sol couldn’t seem to understand, the kids in her grade always looked at her funny. The girls never wanted to talk to her about anything, no-one made an effort to sit with her at lunch, during gym she would always get picked last, and her locker usually had some sort of goop or slime smeared on it as ‘the prank of the day.’
She found her escape in books. One day she picked up a copy of ‘Harry Potter’ and the brunette was hooked since. It wasn’t long before she was trying to read as many books as possible, from all different genres. Thanks to her books, the older she got, the tougher her shell began to get towards the world around her.
Her real escape came when she left Boston to attend university at NYU. She chose to take the business path like her father. Starting her second year of school, she met someone and the pair dated for just shy of one year. They was her first love, first one (and only) to have ever slept with, and heartbreak. During her third year at school, her mother ended up passing due to complications with heart surgery. She was devastated and kept to herself even more than ever. It wasn’t long before her relationship came to an end, closing her happily ever after, though she used the sadness she felt towards motivating herself to study harder.
With a lot of hard work, she ended up graduating top of her class. After graduation Sol took some time to travel around Europe for a bit. She did some backpacking and in her adventures met many lovely, and not so lovely, people along the way. She went to places like Paris, Peru, Japan, China, Egypt, Prague, but her biggest dream has always been London. From some reason or another she just can’t seem to get there. It was a dream when she came across the opportunity to own Delia’s Cafe.
Now, freshly new(ish) to Moorbrooke, Maine, Sol is ready to make her mark in the town and the small bushiness. She always tries to show up with a smile on her face and a bright personality.
She can come off as shy at time but once you get past her shell she is extremely friendly and always ready to talk your ear off about her newest book she’s reading.
fun facts:
she may not be too outspoken about it, but she is a gamer.
loves music, late night talks, and laughing
is always ready to lend a helping hand or shoulder to lean on
she will keep your secret and take it to the grave
she has a cat named Sprinkles.
her favorite customer is bane and she often tries to have his cup of coffee always ready for him when he makes his daily visit to delia’s cafe.
she has made demir her unoffical rooomate as she has given him a key he can freely use to enter her home whenever he needs it. she’s used to him coming over needing to be stitched up, but she also likes to lightly scold him. all in all she cares about the guy and just doesn’t want him to get seriously hurt.
her employees are her little family. she absolutely loves all of them even if she likes to pretend they are a pain in her ass. she is very understanding to anything they have going on and often encourages them not to overwork themselves. since she began working there she likes to dedicate one friday out of the month to an after hours party for the delia’s cafe crew and their loved one. a way to celebrate how amazing they are if you will.
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Deaths Wake
Or as I like to call it: The most stubborn beast I’ve had the misfortune to know.
The Deaths Wake earned its name for the fact that you never see the dragon itself, only the corpses it leaves behind and maybe one of their bones or two if you’re lucky. I never expected to meet one face to face while escaping a slave ship. But that’s a story for my autobiography that I may or may not write.
Hoarding tendencies: They seem to favor crystals, gems, and sea glass. They will often bury their hoards in the back of their dens.
Colors: They seem to be born with bright scales that darken as they age. The bright color probably helps with scaring off predators while they’re too young to defend themselves. (bright colors in dragons usually means poisonous if eaten) The dark color as adults aids in their nocturnal hunts.
Eating behavior: Because of their messy killing style, they prefer to hunt around bodies of water that help with cleaning away evidence of their hunt.
Abilities:
To start off with, this is the cheetah of the dragon world. Albeit much more of a threat to other creatures than an actual cheetah. All of its abilities are directed towards moving faster than its opponents and prey. That tail of its is its main weapon. They will arch it over their back in whichever direction it sees fit and take a stab at its target. The barbed tip goes in easy with its sharp edges but leaves a nasty wound behind when it tears it back again. If there is ever an occasion where their tail isn’t cutting it (pun entirely intended), a chomp of their teeth, encompassed by their sharp beak, or whichever set of claws or talons they choose will work just fine. They are capable of breathing fire, but I think it’s a one and done deal. Most dragons have larger bellies to fit their fire bladder. Not the death wake. They’re thin as a twig. It’s itty bitty little fire bladder seems to be in its chest/neck. They spit one white hot shot then proceed to use other methods of fighting until around the next day when their sack would normally fill up again.
Social structures with each other :
From the one pack, I’ve been able to observe. I believe Deaths Wake prefers to travel with their immediate family. Star (the main dragon I’ve been watching) leads the pack with her mate, and what I’m positive about is her mother. The rest of the pack is made up of her cubs. For something with their reputation, they are very family-oriented. The adults will go out when a cub is hungry and come back within minutes with a stomach full of food to spit up to the cubs. Their grandmother seems to act as both an older maternal figure and governess. If the two younger adults are patrolling territory or hunting at the same time, grandma will often take time to play with them or demonstrate different hunting methods. The old girl certainly has an ‘I’m retired’ energy. Finished raising her kids so she can spoil her grandkids and all that. Star and her mate bring her back most of her meals.
Behavior with other dragons :
It’s best for any other breed of dragon to keep well away.
Behavior with humans :
I couldn’t tell you how many other people have seen a Deaths Wake in the flesh… because I don’t know. Deaths Wake hate humans with a passion, so much they are little more than an urban legend in many places because of how much they avoid them. The only reason I or anyone else know for sure they ever existed is their skeletons and the carnage left in their wake from stupid beasts that thought they could take them. Even when we were forced to interact, Star made her thoughts about having to deal with me well known. Did I mention they are like parrots? They can’t mimic human speech perfectly, but they come disturbingly close. Every curse Star had heard up to that point, she used on me when she got frustrated with me. Can’t say I helped her foul mouth with my own comebacks; I definitely added some choice words to her vocabulary. She seems to get along with my apprentice, though.
Signed,
-The Drackein Badger
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I started to panic when I turned 60. But it wasn’t the usual mid-life crisis.
I recently turned sixty. Don’t worry, I don’t have a list of sixty pieces of advice I’ve learned over the years.
But I did recently refer to myself as “middle-aged.” To which a friend quipped, “Oh, really? So you’re planning to live to be a hundred and twenty?”
Related:
My mom’s gay best friend was a boisterous, chain-smoking alcoholic. He taught me so much.
There are almost eight billion people on the planet — and there are exactly that many different ways to live.
Later, I did a a Google search on “middle-aged” and, at least according to Merriam-Webster, it means the period of life from about 45 to about 64.
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I thought about throwing this in my friend’s face, but you know the old political expression: If you’re explaining, you’re losing.
The truth is, my friend had a point. No matter how Merriam-Webster defines my age, there’s now considerably less time in front of me than there is behind me.
Previously, getting older has never bothered me. Turning thirty, forty, and fifty didn’t faze me at all.
It’s partly because my life has mostly only gotten better with each passing decade.
But as I approached my sixtieth, something did feel different.
But what? Did I see myself in some new way now? Less capable? Less relevant? Was I worried about dying?
I pondered my feelings, trying to figure it out. But it didn’t seem like any of that.
My husband, Brent, and I are currently in Sydney, Australia in a beach suburb called Cronulla. It’s a very special place to me because when I lived here as a high school exchange student, the experience transformed me.
As soon as we arrived Cronulla, I started planning all of the things I wanted to do:
* Catch up with old friends.
* Hike the nearby Royal National Park.
* Hike the other nearby park, Kamay National Park.
* Walk the coastline to the north and south.
* Spend the afternoons body-surfing in the water and swimming in the rock pools.
* Walk the Esplanade and catch the sunrise every morning and the sunset every night.
* Take loads of pictures.
* And oh yeah, continue my full-time job producing a newsletter with Brent.
Looking back, I can see I may have been being a little, uh, manic.
Making matters worse, Sydney’s spring weather wasn’t cooperating. I couldn’t do half the stuff I wanted.
I started to feel very, very frustrated. Mania turned to, well, panic. Because I really wanted to do all of the things on my list. No, I needed to do them.
This wasn’t normal behavior for me.
Make no mistake: As Brent and I travel the world, I always want to make the most of my time wherever we live. Brent might tell you that when it comes to sightseeing, I am often a bit driven.
But this frantic urgency boiling inside me felt different. I might not have known what it was or what was causing it, but I knew I didn’t like it.
One Saturday, Brent was scheduled to be busy all day online with some friends. I decided to do one of the coastal walks I had planned.
As I researched my day, I discovered two of the walks weren’t far from to each other. If I did them back-to-back, I could kill two birds with one stone!
Early Saturday morning, I shot out of the house.
I started in Bondi Beach where I had also planned to take pictures of the murals along the boardwalk. But I moved so fast, snapping pictures all the while, that I barely noticed the murals or the coast.
I left Bondi behind and headed north, but a number of sections were closed, which meant long detours. The legs that were open were, quite frankly, boring. I wasn’t happy.
I finally reached Watsons Bay, near the end of my first walk. The best part was supposed to be the… http://dlvr.it/T0dk25
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