#tenthousandmusesmaybemore

“Heya, Zen.” The bartender waves over the lounge’s spotlight singer for the night. There was still an hour before the show and patrons were only just starting to come in, so she felt at ease to steal a minute of his time. “That guy’s here to watch ya again.” She tilts her head towards the seating floor to gesture for Zenitsu to turn his attention that way. The gesture doesn’t need to be too specific; he should know where he’s looking. It’s the same damn table every time. Not front and center, but not the corner ones where the shady folk sit. Outside of the spotlight’s range— so even the singers who like to wander the lounge wouldn’t approach it— but only just outside it for the best view possible. At the table sits a single individual in a surprisingly well-tailored suit. He’s become a regular, though he hardly says a word to anyone except to politely order his drink. Speaking of which…. She sets a glass loudly on the counter to regain Zenitsu’s attention. Once she has it, she pushes the glass, which is topped off with a deep crimson liquid, forward, then waves a hand at it, “He didn’t even bother bringing it to his table this time. Just put the money down and walked off while I was makin’ it.” There’s a twinge in her voice that sounds almost like she’s offended, but the look in her eyes suggests something else. The gaze is focused on Zenitsu’s reaction. “Usually the guy’ll at least bring it with him, even if he does return it untouched every. time.” Her arms fold over each other as she leans over the counter. “You really still think he’s ‘here for the at-mos-phere,’ or whatever it is you keep insisting?”

       he could hear everything around him, the voices of the people backstage still getting things prepped for tonight, he heard their words quiet clearly saying things like 'make sure that he has enough water to drink throughout the night, we can't let his pipes go out on us, do you know how much business we get when he's the one singing?' it made the man's lips curl into a smile.

       zenitsu had been singing in this lounge since he was old enough to have his first beer, and now that he was twenty-five, it felt like ages ago he stepped foot into the place. he loved it here, the way that the people he worked for took care of him, the way that his coworkers had his back whenever he needed them--how could he not love this job?

       speaking of coworkers though, his ears picked up the voice of the woman he had thought of as his best friend in this place. turning his attention to emi he would stride over to her. he could see that there was a drink in her hand, unsure what this was all about he would cock his head to the side.

              "what's up, em?" he would ask before hearing her words. she didn't even have to say who it was and nor did zenitsu have to look over at the table to know who she had been talking about to know exactly who it was. he knew the table well, he knew that it would be taken by the man who showed up every night when he was here singing--and because of that there would be a slight tinge of red upon his already rosy cheeks. even so, his eyes would travel over to where the man sat, just looking at him set his heart into a whirl.

       why someone like him would come to everyone of his performances was beyond zenitsu. he was beautiful, and when compared to someone like the lead act of tonight--zenitsu felt that he was way out of his league. the way that he was built, the way that his face looked as though he could be a model--was he a model? wouldn't surprise zenitsu in the slightest.

       his thoughts were brought out of his head the moment he heard the glass being set down on the counter. zenitsu would jump slightly as he heard emi's questions and laughed at her.

              "oh stop it already, would ya?" he then reached out for the glass, taking it in his hand and grinning at her as he did so. "i'll show you that he's here to listen to everyone here, not just me." though, he wasn't too sure about his own words after being told yesterday that since he hadn't come onto the stage thanks for it being his day off, this particular regular wasn't at his table. "and then you'll aaaaaall know he didn't come in yesterday because he was either sick or busy."

       and at that, he began to stride forward. losing that grin upon his face for it to be changed into something more of a nervous look.

Kohaku once again was in another world, he glances around before getting up to venture forth.

As he walked, he took note of the scenery as it left him in a trance.

So much so that he didn’t notice the snare that caught both his legs and hoisted him upside down, he gasped as he tries to free himself but this rope, it was strong!

He tries to get a hold of his chained bone sickle from his belt but his head was becoming dizzy, this wasn’t good as he was losing consciousness from being upside down like this and swaying.

His arms became heavy as everything blacked out, his eyes closing.

@tenthousandmusesmaybemore inquired: if i'm not annoying you, what's the point? ((Hikae at Kira cuz your post reminded me I was gonna send one of these

⁕| The Romance Of Banter |⁕

Hikae… He had been a thorn in her side since they met. Kira didn’t know what about her interested him so, but she couldn’t seem to shake him off. Maybe he just liked to annoy and get a rise out of her… So she tried to ignore him. Tried. It didn’t take long for her to be frustrated all over again.

If she were any other demon, she’d have half the mind to just attack him. But no, he hasn’t posed any sort of threat to her or a human, so Kira wasn’t going to attack him unprovoked. Even though he had indeed provoked her plenty of times already…

@tenthousandmusesmaybemore sent: Inosuke leans towards Genya, "Hellooo, fellow nice-list-er!"

Don't mind him, he's still wheezing from everyone being on the naughty list. There may be tears in his eyes. This is the most entertaining thing that's ever happened to him.

@tenthousandmusesmaybemore asked: Inosuke gonna run up and attempt to droPKICK NEZUKO CUZ HE MISSED HER

Nezuko was already covered in wounds as she tries to flirt with the new boy from the southern region of the Demon Slayer Corp. Her red eyes laid on the boy's beautiful face that she did not noticed her boar-headed friend behind her as he KICKED HER ON THE HEAD. The girl stood her ground, but growl.

🌸 → ❝ YOU PIG FACED BASTARD! Can't you see I'm busy trying to be a husband. I'll kill you! ❞

The pair starts wrestling in the dirt.

@tenthousandmusesmaybemore sent in:

🍼- falls asleep in your muse’s lap. (For Inosuke

He had been sitting against the couch just reading a book whenever the boar decided to come and join him. Not that he minded, but he had a feeling he wouldn't get that much reading done if Inosuke was now going to be joining him. But he had to admit that he was shocked when the other just laid across the couch and he found Inosuke's head on his lap. Glancing down at the other he raised an eyebrow at him.

"You comfortable?" Tanjiro doesn't put his book down. And he notices that the boar already had his eyes closed. Since for the first time in a while the other had his boar head mask off. Tanjiro just shook his head as he smiled.

@tenthousandmusesmaybemore sent:

“chomp” (( Inosuke to Kaigaku

Dark eyes blinked as he looked at Zenitsu's feral friend.

Then the realization that he felt fucking teeth in his arm.

The sound that left him was high pitched and unholy, comparable to some of the screams he has heard demons make. Violent static dancing in his vision.

"I WAS FUCKING RIGHT, HE IS FUCKING RABID!!!"

“Ugh …”

Beneath the hood, his eyes—unnaturally sharp even for him now—as he tracked a group of drunk salarymen stumbling out of an izakaya. Their wallets bulged in their back pockets. A year ago, he might have cared. Now? Their pitiful lives weren't worth the ash he flicked onto the pavement. His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket—another notification about his latest single topping the charts. The irony wasn't lost on him. He had been a demon a hundred years ago, now he had a second chance, nothing had changed. Humans worshipped what they couldn't understand. Pathetic. How he hated them, but still how he needed them to adore him.

The neon peach pit glowed above the lounge's entrance like a promise. Or a taunt. Inside, the air was thick with whiskey and the low murmur of conversations meant to be forgotten by dawn. He slid onto a stool, his reflection fractured in the mirrors behind the bar. The bartender—some fool with bleached tips and an eyebrow piercing—didn't recognize him. Good. He ordered bourbon, neat, and watched the amber liquid swirl. The glass was smudged. He almost laughed. Even now, dirt clung to him.

Under the bar's dim light, he rolled a peach between his fingers that he had taken—plucked from a gutter where it had no right to survive. Like him. The fruit long gone, the pit remained. Hard. Useless. Persisting. He crushed it in his palm, the fragments scattering across the counter like teeth. The bartender frowned. He drained his drink in one swallow and tapped the glass for another. "Keep them coming.” He said, though the alcohol was just a burning ghost in his throat. Demons didn't get drunk. But old habits died harder than humans. He didn’t know what he was anymore, all he knew, was he made it right to the top, to be where he wanted to be, to finally have everything he could have ever wanted.