#kanashimai

[starlitsakura-archived]

                                     I mean, do I also have to tell you to not throw sand ?

@kanashimai

[swansongcd]

----- @kanashimai​ and I talked about a thing.

Was she intending to make him something absolutely delicious. Yes. Yes she was. She could feel the edges of a day worse than usual riding his emotional wavelength and what better way to make a friend feel better than some damn good food and maybe a little song.  “I made cookies! And Ming and I have been working on a new song if you wanna hear it?” 

[offorgottenblood]

                                   "Erza, come here, you've got something on your face." 

   His face flushes brilliantly as his mother called attention to the fact that the young snake had something on his face. He stammered and clutched his books up close to his face. 

          “Moooom, No way. I can get it.”.

   He groans a little trying to wipe away whatever it is himself. He’s rather embarrassed, he can feel his older brother’s eyes on them from the distance and he knew he was wearing that shit eating grin on his face. It only made his face burn darker.

@kanashimai​

[vitavitale]

@kanashimai​ sent:  Fait didn't care what anyone said; He was determined to sneak his feline friend a special treat or two, armed with a slice of the salmon he'd made for dinner that night and a bowl of cream. V could scold him all he likes. Shadow would get a piece of the family supper and a good chin scratch if it killed him.

The darkness is all-seeing and all-knowing.

The sound of the boy’s coming footsteps were easily identified; his were unique, as were those of every other pair of feet that came and went within these walls. Shadow knew them all by the weight in and the pace of their steps, the length of their strides; and she knew each member of the household more intimately by the sound of their breaths. She was like spilled ink when she heard him, a black deeper than shadow pooled neatly on the floor. She hid herself in plain sight, cloaked by the shadows of her environment; but sensing a friendly presence on approach drew her from her cover to gather the mass necessary to assume her familiar feline form. In fleeting seconds there sat a thickly built, terrible death dealer, waiting and smelling. Ears flicked forward and a glossy nose scented the air, but apart from this she was politely still with her tail languidly curled round her back paws as if she were no more than a house cat.

When she spied the fledgling demon, she knew instantly she was to be fed.

Demons had a reputation for eating anything according to human ignorance. Shadow, and all her kind, were just the species to fall in line with the stereotype. Audacious of the little cat fiend to figure her out so easily, but he was not spurned when he crept upon her to turn in what he had scavenged from the night’s meal. She’d made no fuss when she watched her guarded flock nourish themselves; their human-grade food and human-sized portions would have never satisfied her, but while Griffon was clamorous about receiving scraps, she quietly lazed on the floor as if she’d never been there to begin with. A far more prudent and sagacious creature than any, Shadow had learned over centuries to bide her time, store her energy, let others make the first mistake. 

Fait was a kinder demon than most. If Shadow had not become domesticated by her conjurer, she'd have made a fair meal out of the feline boy and his spoils without discrimination—as was natural of her species. She would have eaten them all, quite frankly, long ago, but the age for that sort of instinct had passed in years recent to her, distant to V. Fait’s kindness would not see him eaten tonight, but welcomed instead. So, Shadow greeted him with harmless attention in blood-red eyes, almost statuesque in her regal bearing. 

No, no, she wouldn’t be compared to spoiled royalty! Forbid the notion!

The rumble in her chest hinted at her interest. With the meat surrendered and the bowl placed before her, she found that she would indeed eat just about anything. A pleasant purr vibrated deeply, an expression of gratitude for Fait’s selflessness. But she liked him, so of course she would lick the palm of his hand before he’d draw it away from her chin. Ah, there’s something about scratches...

In one bite and one gulp the fish disappeared, as did the bowl. But that shan’t be a worry: her body would expel it cleanly, whole, however not quite dry, in the next minute.

[tempusxvernum-moved]

I cant believe you said that. // Saryn for anyone in your bnha category. I'm sorry I should've prefaced my post. I've been day drinking. Feel free to ignore me.

° ✧ I CAN’T BELIEVE… SENTENCE STARTERS.

@kanashimai

“Hm? Oh, was that rude?” Mitsukuni wondered absentmindedly, aimlessly going through his phone. 

Admittedly, he didn’t mean for what he said to come out the way it did, but it seemed he couldn’t care all that much. 

“Not my fault some heroes can’t seem to do their jobs right.” He shrugged loosely.

[apricxs-archived]

I'll protect you from them. I don't care how much it hurts. [ mj ]

“ y’don’t understand-- “

it’s a shame really. how life tends to catch up with you so quickly. 

takeshi could try and hide from reality for as long as he wanted, hell, he had -- and he’d gotten a few good months out of it too, stress-free, baby! livin’ life like he wasn’t in constant danger, like he was normal and good and gods above it was great -- he’d never experienced anything like it! early mornings, wrapped up in a blanket and making coffee -- the little kisses he gives mj to wake him up, helping him get ready for the day. mj rushing out the door, late for work again because takeshi just couldn’t keep his hands to himself and mj? well, mj was just as bad. there was no stress of figuring out what he’d eat for the next week, just asking mj to pick up some tofu on the way home because ‘ ooh, found this new recipe for tofu an’ kimchi stew tha’ i wanna try! gonna make it tonight after work! ‘ yeah -- work, a proper job in a little cafe. the money was okay, but it was the social aspect that takeshi lived for -- sometimes takeo would even come in during his lunch break to say hello, make sure takeshi was eating enough vegetables and...

life was simple. life was good. it was everything takeshi had ever wanted growing up, everything he’d never thought he’d have either. it was perfect -- and not a day went by that takeshi wasn’t grateful for everything that he had.

it was so perfect, in fact, that takeshi had forgotten all about the real world, his real life. the one he’d conveniently forgotten about and left behind without so much as a word. the nights where mj would be up worrying about whether takeshi was coming back in one piece that night. the bathroom scoldings at some ungodly hour of the morning as mj stitched up a wound that he most definitely did not have the medical background nor the qualifications to be stitching up. takeshi brushing off any questions about what had happened, the breakdowns when things get a bit too real, the moments when takeshi’s reminded of his own fuckin’ mortality and that one day, if he doesn’t stop soon, this is the shit that’s going to get him killed.

“ y’can’t... i won’t let ya. “ they’ve had this discussion time and time again. takeshi wants to get out, wants to lead a good, law-abiding life -- mj can help him do that. he knows someone -- doesn’t tell takeshi who, but he knows someone that can help. but takeshi can’t do it -- won’t let mj help him. because what if it goes south? what if mj gets stuck in the middle of it all and -- jesus, what if mj gets hurt? seunghyun knows who mj is now and that alone is dangerous information. that right there is enough to keep takeshi on edge, keep him obedient.

do your job, do what i hired you to do, takeshi, and your little boy toy won’t get hurt. it’s pretty simple, don’t you think?

“ it’s easier... if i jus’ do what they say. i mean -- what’s th’ worst tha’ could happen? “ a rhetorical question, but invasive thoughts answer that question quickly enough for him. hospital, prison, death -- can’t get much fuckin’ worse than death, can it?

“ it’ll be fine. i’ll jus’ keep m’ head down -- do th’ work. “ he wants to say that it won’t be forever, but seunghyun has said time and time again that the only way takeshi was ever going to get out of this business was death.

“ ya don’t gotta worry, yeon-in. m’ fine, i got this. “

@kanashimai

[vitavitale]

@kanashimai​ sent:  It was awfully convenient that Dabi's decided prey should all cluster around one specific locale - less running around to do - but it also posed significant enough risk that he could be caught and fingered for the devil he was. Now, he wasn't shy about his aloof and antagonistic nature, but he'd been flying under the radar for the most part, observing and memorizing this little family unit's routines, mannerisms, feelings.

And he was there, now, at the bar, casually sipping a mint julep the resident cat boy had mixed for him, watching the worker bees buzz about, a half-hearted attempt at smoothing out some ruffled feathers in the works. "So, V, why Devil May Cry?"

Not one of them really smiled at him, did they? Rough around the edges and difficult to swallow—and if Shadow had no respect for her master she’d have done more than snarl at this...Dabi. V would watch her bristle in his presence whenever she revealed herself, lock her piercing blood reds on him with all the distrust and the watchfulness she could afford. She was uncomfortable with him and V should have paid attention to that. But she’d melt away and cling to his body, and watch from there, and he’d allowed it. Shadow did not like everybody and was unafraid to express her feelings; it wasn’t all that strange of her, so V chalked up her behavior to the very same. She did not like Dabi, even Garrett didn’t, and V could not be expected to sing the demon’s praises either. However...

The question was odd enough, and V hadn’t really given it thought before. He never wondered why, so he hadn’t much of anything to offer his now-frequent visitor. Still, it pulled him from the glass rack he’d been tending to with all of his care. Someone had been having accidents of late, and glassware was pricey. He should not like to be them. His countenance was dry at first, but the subject matter welcomed an inoffensive simper. “I don’t know, the name’s not ours. You’d have to ask Dante—you know of him?—it’s his brainchild, only we have his permission to set up our branch of it. Very generous of him, I'd say.” It was all the truth. Though, V might have found it somewhat unusual that any demon, by now, would not have known that a Devil May Cry was Dante’s, first and foremost. The original, anyway, as Dante had gained infamy among the infernal he so delighted in slaying. He really should have done it for profit; V couldn’t believe the man was as penniless as he’d been discovered to be. 

Or, it could be that he wasn’t fortunate enough to have someone at his side to manage his finances, the way V did Garrett. 

Ah, he’d realized something then. “Or are you wondering why I’m in this business?” A brow quirked softly, eyes gleamed curiously, mouth smiled politely. “That one has...a longer story to it. But we’re still open, so I must tend to work. Perhaps another time, Dabi.” The warlock peeled himself away upon eyeing new patrons. He must go maintain order and integrity or the place descends into wantonness.

[offorgottenblood]

“He thinks he’s hot shit.”.

“Well. He’s not wrong.”.

@kanashimai​