when will my husband return from war.. :^(
the husband has returned, but he is tired and grumpy and hungry.
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@xaibao
when will my husband return from war.. :^(
the husband has returned, but he is tired and grumpy and hungry.
smoldering eyes flit DOWN only ever so slightly, fingers digging rivets into the other’s spine ( as if, through his bones, he could pull him closer than he already was, pressed against him ) “ Hello... “
ALL POTENTIAL BABY-GIFTS MUST GO THROUGH DETAILED INSPECTION BY ME, UNCLE BAOBAO, UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
nervenzerstorung ;; [CLAUS VOICE] UNCLE SQUAD windstormwielding ;; JOIN THE UNCLE SQUAD
UNCLE SQUAD COMMENCE
peeps softly.
chuffs curiously at small shinigami.
oni-analyst:
xaibao
dull, onyx nails scratched at the nape of his neck– the bed was warm, but that had nothing to do with him. the tiger sleeping soundly next to him radiated heat and akon would gladly embrace it. a silent yawn would escape his lips before he laid back down beside the other. it was no use trying to fall asleep again seeing as how the painfully bright morning sun bore down on them. xai, like a cat, always enjoyed it, but akon did not. the thoughts were pushed from his mind as he found himself slinking an arm over the other’s waist. he would then bury his face in the crook of xai’s neck, knowing he would soon be awake. akon was an early riser not by choice, but this morning wasn’t even close to the worst.
❝ are you awake yet? ❞
“Sadly...” ------------ said through slightly parted lips. the tiger glances over his shoulder, catches but the smallest glimpse of ebony tufts buried into his neck ( chuckles ) -- arm reaching back to slide against the one slung over his side. he LOVES the sun coating his skin, relishes in the soft prickling & warmth -- it had always reminded him of simpler times, when he’d had the luxury to sun bathe without fear of a dagger run through his belly for sleeping in the wrong meadow. he hides most of the sun’s warmth from the smaller man just with his wide shoulders. --------- “Sleep well..?”
oni-analyst
smooches him lots :^)
rumbles appreciatively & nudges. “I missed you, too.”
nudges the bf
nudges back ---------
promptly flops onto.
lonely neglected brother noises.
nervenzerstorung ;; [CLAUS VOICE] UNCLE SQUAD windstormwielding ;; JOIN THE UNCLE SQUAD
aw fucking y e a h UNCLE SQUAD
machinejaws
he can’t keep the hope from seeping into his voice --- “ So, did --... did it work ? “
LIKE THIS FOR A STARTER LATER
he’s secluded himself away again. once again, the doors of his home are closed, his w o r k has stalled ( left the bloodshed to his b o y s, the grime & the guts to the g a n g ). it happens, every so often, that he finds himself overwhelmed ; over- whelmed with the life he’ s chosen, the life he leads, the blood on his hands that seems into his bones when he doesn’t pay enough attention. so he locks himself within rice paper & wood so that no one could see the way his eyes have d u l l e d, and his skin has p a l e d.
he claims s i c k n e s s on these days-claims his legs are tired, claims that his head is splitting & he can’t handle the job, not today. it’s not entirely a lie, but it is certainly from the whole truth. hands instead busy themselves with cigarettes & matches, legs ( cracked & agonizing ) perched on the nearest pillow. this is okay, for now, but he’ll become itchy & b o r e d soon. he’ll become l o n e l y in a moment, and only then will it will be time to unlock the doors.
the steam that rose as he sank into the tub reminded him of the smoke that often filled his lungs. alert eyes would watch it spread throughout the room before he was completely seated in the deep basin. goosebumps rose on his skin only to be smoothed over by the almost too hot water. a pale arm would rest on the edge of the tub, head canted to the side as his gaze came to rest on xai. the soft light of the room danced on his sickly skin, giving him the illusion of life, but the contrast only accentuated his boniness– and it made the tiger’s muscles stand out. the deep rumble that met his ears made his eyes slowly close in thought. everything about this felt right. ( yes, i am.. ) his voice had a hint of feeling– appreciation of the taller males efforts to bring him much needed ease. the demon shifted, letting himself slink deeper into the water legs would brush and it was then that he realized contact would make this far more soothing. before the water even had a chance to settle, he was moving forwards on his knees. the water moved gently against his sin and with a few inches between them, he looked down at the tiger.
he’s finding himself quite liking how the warm water makes Akon look – bring a flush of rose to pale, sallow skin – a tone of LIFE. the tone of his voice rings gently in Xai’s ears, even the most quiet words resonating in this room. though at the first sight of movement on Akon’s behalf, the tiger is alert, eyes following every single muscle slither as the demon shifted closer.
a puff of breath leaves his lungs as arms almost GREEDILY reach for the shinigami’s waist as soon as he’s close enough, knees falling apart to make room for his lover. he tries to appear as if he hadn’t been hoping for this, though he’s sure he’s failed it – had hoped the demon would wind up in his arms eventually. eyes meet the crimson gaze of the smaller male, hands snaking gently up the small of Akon’s back, snaking up to shoulder blades like knives. yes. contact. the sound in his chest is APPRECIATIVE, a small, smoky smile flitting upon his features – making sunset eyes narrow pleasantly ( he’s fighting every urge to nuzzle & coddle right now )
“ I’m glad… “
xaibao
Few and too many eyes follow the orphan children of the Rukongai, though many are generally focused on the more boisterous gangs that run wild through the streets, protected by their numbers and solidarity to an extent. For every child caught red-handed with something they’ve stolen there are always two or three who contribute successfully, keeping the pack fed as they rove.
The watchers less commonly eye the loners, simply for the fact that their silence and caution makes them more difficult to spot in the first place. Rei finds her tiny stature (literally and metaphorically) a comforting thing at times. When eyes slide away carelessly and muscles relax–that’s when she can take what is life-giving, be it water or food or even clothing if she must. After that it’s her turn to run wild, treasures clutched tight to a tiny breast as her victims yell or chase after her. Thankfully, few around these parts are ever inclined to help whomever she’s stolen from.
The markets aren’t very crowded today, both a blessing and a curse: without so many, the dust and stench are kept at tolerable levels, her eyes squinted only a little under the sunlight beating down. As a curse, though, there’s less going on to distract her marks and allow her an opening.
From the safety of the rooftops, her eyes alight on a fierce looking man, and despite her youth she can immediately guess what he is, doubly so with the meaner looking characters hanging close to him.
But oh, the treasures he carries. Food enough to last her a week or more, provided she could haul it off and keep it safe–and therein lies the challenge. A plan is formulated, and she slips from the rooftop, tiny fingers clenching reflexively at the test she’s about to put herself to. Does she really dare steal from someone who’s possibly an important yakuza? The way her stomach clings to her spine and cramps tells her she doesn’t have any better options.
The hunt is on.
its never been like Xaibao Zhu to BRAG – but it remained so that this area truly was HIS. and he liked it that way. why shouldn’t he? although the t i g e r, seated amongst rough & gritty men, was quite an INTIMIDATING CREATURE, he held true to his morals that kept him in a place ABOVE the scum gangs beyond this district. the s c u m that took the silk beneath the OLD, took the beds beneath the YOUNG, took whatever they could from whoever they were BIGGER than. no. xai takes what he needs from those who deserve to be taken from – and gives to those who may need it more. CRIMINAL? yes. for a good cause, he’d like to think.
though the fact would always remain he is a GANGSTER, has had enough b l o o d on his hand for a lifetime over & would never regret a DROP of it. he’s crushed a THOUSAND SKULLS – yet mended a hundred broken wrists, supplied blankets to a dozen tired heads – to make up for it, to clean it off.
and he’s always had a fondness for c h i l d r e n – never really caring for the UNBEARABLY HIGH number of orphans he finds around this district. he’s filed out a hefty sum of coin, a barrel’s worth of food to the hungry ( he can always tell when a child has REIATSU, by the look of pure suffering he only knew too well ) – sometimes to his gang’s chagrin but he is BOSS. and boss helps the children. and so must the gang.
he’s RELAXED today, telling a particularly interesting story to his right hands, the few tattooed muscle-men cackling as a pack of hyenas. not particularly worried, not particularly on guard. why should he be, midday and all?
╔ ╗ is such not the way of t w i n s? yet adored of one another, for they had always been beasts curled and snarling in their cave of self fulfilment ;; instractable, invidious. leona et tigris. from eyes-open, to eyes-shut–hadn’t they swallowed and gargled on pride together up til now ? made a lair for themselves of their own ribs? a monstrous contract, truly. ╚ ╝