#the cherryblossom skin is coming back

[jamieedlund]

🌸In the season of the white cherry, standing in full blossom🌸

retouch of last year spring doodle and a little doodle💗

[simpforroses]

🐺 Of Lupines & Red Stained Snow (Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader) 🐺

🌹In Collaboration with the One Piece Fairy Tale Oneshots Event, hosted by @boa-h, alongside @jazminetoad, @lucciluvr, @the-witch-of-one-piece, @starrybrujita, @cherryblossom-chopper, @hollyberryfairy--they, too, have their oneshots coming up throughout the week, so please be sure to check their awesome hard work too!

🌹A/N: Despite mainly being an artist here, being able to participate in this collab allowed me to truly showcase my writing style and capabilities on my main & I only hope readers enjoy reading it as much as enjoyed writing it! I wanted this to truly mirror a legitimate dark fairy tale/short story retelling, and combined with my passion for literature and Trafalgar Law, it became one of my best & most ambitious work. There are so many themes behind this particular one laced in the setting, the wordplay, the scenario, and the final metamorphosis, so see if it goes to capture the atmosphere & romance I wanted to convey. And if you do read, thank you very much! (art & graphics are all made by me via hand or royalty-free images)

🌹WC: 9.36K (it was hard not to write a whole novel, so I settled for traditional short story 😂)

🌹Warnings: Blood, Violence/Action

Winter came once more. The mountains adopt a character of lupine jaws that refuse to let you escape, and the snow that carries upon the low growls of the eastern winds are the fangs that hold you in place. Nightingales no longer sing in your town, as they all left to a place beyond your reach, but as much as you yearn to possess their freedom, you never minded the cold. There was a comfort in the barren whiteness to you, like a phantom canvas where any possibility imaginable could be illustrated. Plus, the surrounding black forests adopted a quiet character to them, that made your missions and private journeys more agreeable. There was no better weather to patrol the forests in peace than in the snow.

You were a member of the Riding Hood Order as a Red Hood; an organization of mercenaries and hunters throughout various regions in the northern continent, and you currently were under review to be promoted to the Master rankage. To earn a coveted hood, prospective initiates must undergo rigorous training involving fundamental combative and weapon mastery, survival skills, and fluency in the creatures, magic, and märchen that exist throughout the continent, among other things to prove they deserve the honor. Recognizing your fascination with cryptids and giftedness in pathfinding at a young age, your schoolmaster recommended you to the Order once you reached the cusp of adolescence, and you made a statement in your year’s Final Hunt by successfully hunting a manticore that had an insatiable taste for humans and märchen creatures, alike. Your peers thought you mad when they found out that you weren’t planning to hunt a bear or a wolf, like the rest of them, but because you did not come from a family of hunters nor of The Riding Hoods, you had something to prove. Plus, you were aiming to earn a Red Riding Hood position in one fell swoop, which was a division consisting of the three best operatives in the Order, who were given the opportunity to select solo missions and allowed the most freedom to roam the landscape as they pleased.  After all, it only took a little research to discover that the manticore would petrify upon seeing its reflection and that its poison had no effect on elephant skin. No sooner after you brought back the head of the creature that had been terrorizing the town for a decade, were you granted your red hood. But, a few curious details about the events continued to dwell on your mind.

Elephant hide was uncommon in your region and only statesmen with hefty coin purses could afford them. Yet on the night you noted your findings in your private forest alcove earlier that same afternoon, you saw a shadow leaping from your chamber window, only to find a pile of elephant hide crudely wrapped around some birch bark on the sill for you to fashion into a protective cloak. When you were examining the manticore corpse after slaying it, you felt that same sensation of something watching you from the foliage, and you found that the scorpion tail that you thought was cut by your snake blade, was in fact severed with a character resembling wolf claws. Furthermore, on nights patrolling the outskirts and shallows of the forests, you never failed to catch a glimpse of amber eyes watching you, like a phosphorous lantern floating in the darkness, waiting for the right time to consume everything in its vicinity.

As you sit at your post, situated by the mouth of the forest, you find yourself staring down that amber gaze through the gentle snow flurry, intently watching you with a predatory air and stealthily circling you from within the shadows. Whatever it is, it clearly seemed methodically patient, yet fascinated by you. You wonder if this had anything to do with “The Big Bad Wolf” that had been the town sensation for the past six years or if you unconsciously formed an attachment to a märchen when you secretly buried a family of wolves that were recklessly hunted by mid-rank Gray Hoods who wanted to sell the skin and bones for an extra profit. They didn’t even spare the cub and were unfortunately only given a slap on the wrist.

 It was almost taboo to honor monsters from the forest, since doing so was thought to bring bad omen, but you felt that it was only proper to honor lives that were callously cut short, instead of discarding the bodies in a waste bin, so during the night of a new moon, you snuck the bones out for a proper burial in a field of lupines. Reflecting on it, that was when you began feeling the sense that you were being followed whenever you spent time in the forest. It was initially alarming at first, but over time you grew accustomed to your watcher, who became like an unseen companion in your daily routine.

“_____!” a voice called out to you. The golden eyes immediately dissipated into the shadows, upon hearing running footsteps in the snow.

You turn your head to greet your colleague from the Green Riding Hood division, who were just under the Red Riding Hoods in rank, “Oh? Going on your last assignment for the day?” you ask, observing the large basket hanging from their arm like a weighted shackle.

“No, actually. I’m here to give you an assignment from the chairman. They want you to deliver this to the Grandmaster,” they relate, outstretching the basket to you.  

You give them an inquisitive look. 

Strange. Usually your tasks as a Red Riding Hood didn’t involve going deep into the forest as a delivery person. “Are there not enough Gray Hoods to do the job?”

“They are undergoing a new training regiment and the chairman thought that since you’re already here, you could accomplish the task most efficiently as our best navigator, given that it’s almost nighttime,” they say. Once again, the basket of bread, cream, herbs, and parchment were outstretched to you, “The Grandmaster also has a new mission for you too, so it’ll be killing two birds in one stone.”

Your colleague looked at you in earnest, coaxing you to take the basket. What could have been so important that the Grandmaster had to personally call you into the forest, just before nightfall? However, it seemed that your green-cloaked colleague would not leave until you accepted the assignment--most likely because you both would get an earful from the council for not accomplishing a simple task--so you took it.

“I’m sure you’ll get it done quickly. I’ll cover your post until you come back,” they assured with a cordial smile that ironically felt almost as frigid as winter’s breath.

“Thank you…” you replied. This behavior was not uncommon. Being one of the most hardworking and diligent operatives in the Order earned you both reverence and intense whispers of envy; however something about this unnerved you…as if they were not expecting you to come back. It seemed something in the forest agreed with you too, signaled by a low growl rumbling through the pines.

You made haste, pulling your crimson hood over your head. Tonight will be one of the longest, with the week of the winter solstice permeating through your sleepy town in the mountains. Boundaries between the human world and märchen were blurred during this period, and you did not want to face off against a horde of monsters a day before Christmas Eve.

The forest possesses a heart of its own, but luckily, you were well-read in the paths that made its veins and the voices that made its heartbeat. Hanging pine and willows offer a somber branch over passerbys, like a fishing reel playing on their sympathies to snatch them into the dark unknown, but you keep your focus forward, brushing them away with your sword. Distant howls catch your attention and the flurry of frost intensifies, as you witness lupine silhouettes running on the parallel path. That’s right…Christmas Eve is the werewolf’s birthday and the Wolf’s Sabbath intersects with the Nativity, so they must be congregating in preparation for the upcoming revelry. Although the scene intrigued you, you kept alert, in case their interest turned to you, but the only beings that were currently hyper-fixated on you were the evening dryads that attempted to coax you into following them with their inviting smiles and mischievous chippering. However, you knew better than to stray from the path. 

Night fell sooner than usual, but fortunately, you were at the final crossroads before reaching the Grandmaster’s headquarters. No flare was needed to tell that the left road took you on the Path of Needles that you usually used, and that the right led you on the Path of Pins, but just before you took another step, a voice spoke to you from behind.

“Are you sure you want to take the Path of Needles _______-ya?”

You startled, immediately whipping around and lighting your flare in a defensive stance to find yourself face to face with a tall wolfman with fur as black as darkest midnight. His eyes briefly held a drop of familiar golden glow, before melting into a silver, reflecting the December moonlight. He was a Valeteum wolfman who were known to possess many remarkable and fearsome supernatural abilities; the nature of his eyes told you as much.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” You demanded.

“I think you’re already familiar with me by now, ________-ya. I’m the Big Bad Wolf, as your kind likes to call me,” he grinned, flashing his sharp canines, “My job in this forest is similar to yours, so how could I not know the name of the human who slayed the manticore?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing that he was telling a half-truth, yet at the same time, you had an odd feeling that you could trust him not to try anything. 

Stories of the Big Bad Wolf outwitting the town’s best hunters, leading children astray into the woods, feasting on the flesh of humans, and tearing people to shreds in sadistic amusement circulated the town, but as someone who frequents the forest, you knew that most of those tales were balderdash, save for the first and last. It was true that there was a highly intelligent creature that undid and reworked nearly every trap set up by prospective hunters and that there were occasions of human bodies found near the mouth of the forest as a warning sign. However, most of the bodies were rendered apart in an immaculate fashion that was vastly different than being torn apart by a savage beast, and most of them were composed of bandits, grave criminals, hunters with a record of unethicalness, and a few Riding Hood operatives who were discovered to be hunting outside of The Order’s assignments. Yes, you knew about him, but you did not fear him like the others.

Time seemed to stop as you regarded each other, with both you and the wolfman circling the other in a dance at crossroads. Something about him seemed familiar. His voice was like one that often recurred in your memory or a dream: low and smooth, with a charming austereness mixed with a touch hoarseness that spoke of both danger and comforting secrecy. You’ve heard it many times before, without ever hearing it in person. His eyes held a familiar piercing intensity and focus, resembling the ones that watched you all these years with undivided attention. You were certain that he was your watcher, but the question remains: Why?

“I see news travel fast in your world too,” you finally say, giving him a smirk of your own, “Though, you have me at a disadvantage Mr. Wolf, because you know my name, but I don’t know yours. The guest can’t greet their host without knowing their name and frankly, I think ‘Big Bad Wolf,’ is a bit of a cheesy mouthful.”

The wolfman gave a low chuckle, and it was then you noted the tattoos that embellished his strong torso, “I’m glad you aren’t fond of that either. And you’re correct. The forests are essentially alive, so everything that occurs here becomes recorded as part of its history.” He stopped his circling and closed the space between you, observing you up close for the first time—your icy breaths intermingling with one another, “You can call me Law.”

“Law…” you say with his name having a natural roll on your tongue, “So Law, what makes you think I shouldn’t take the Path of Needles? I’ve used it many times before without trouble.”

“Have you checked what was in the basket?” he prowled on all fours, taking a whiff of the parcel and made a disapproving expression, “This is lined with scents that make bears and blood wraiths insane. If you walk down there now, it will be a bloodbath and I can’t guarantee that you’ll get out there in one piece, even with your skills.” 

Your eyes widened at that revelation and looked through the basket contents. You found nothing inside that could be out of place, but holding your flare closer to it, you noticed that the interior had a deeper reddish color compared to the outside. There was no strange scent, but maybe that was due to your human nose. If it was true that the basket was lined with something, it must mean that this was an elegant formula that only a handful of Green Hoods and the other two Red Riding Hoods were capable of brewing. “Are you suggesting that my own people sent me out here to be killed?” you ask, feeling a quiet fury inside of you boiling.

“I’m not suggesting it, I know it. You heard how that Greenie spoke to you earlier and you must have also noticed how your organization had been sending you on more oddly dangerous missions.”

Law seemed to know a lot about you, more than you would have liked a stranger to know. “That’s because I am one of their most reliable operatives. There are some missions that only I can accomplish that others can’t.” 

“Are you, ________-ya? Or are you one of their biggest threats?”

His words struck you like a shock of frostbite that bit into your chest. You’ve worked tooth and nail to get to where you were today, so the thought that your colleagues and superiors would consider your determination a threat to them, angered you. But you knew he was right. You can’t deny that despite being well-liked enough, some of your peers looked at you differently from the day your promotion was announced and that your recent mission selections have felt more like punishments, rather than tests of courage. It was like no matter what you did or how well you executed a task, it was never enough. 

You looked back on the white trail of your footsteps, leading back to the town.

“You couldn’t go back even if you wanted to, since they are guarding the forest entrance,” Law interjected, following your gaze.

“Then what do you suggest I do? If I disappear now, they’ll definitely send a search party throughout the woods. And I’m not even sure if the Grandmaster is actually expecting me or waiting to see my corpse when the sun comes up. ”

“We won’t know until you meet them, yourself.” Law closed his eyes in a moment of focus, taking a deep intake of breath, before reopening them again, revealing that unmistakable amber glow you’ve encountered many times before, “I sense some Greenies lurking around the woods right now, and a group of them waiting on the path of pins, at the possibility that you changed course. Your best bet is through the trees.”

He offered you a clawed hand that almost seemed to cut through the chill, with his dagger-like nails. You regarded him with trepidation and wonder, “Why are you helping me?”

“Let’s just say I pay back my debts,” he enigmatically answered. There was something his eyes were telling you, and although you did not know what, there was an honesty in them that you haven’t seen in a long time. You put your hand in his, melting away the snow that gathered inside his palms. A symphony of howls resounded throughout the forest at the contact, as if on cue.

“They’re coming,” Law lowly whispered, with an unhinged wildness overtaking his sharp features. He scooped you up in his strong arms and made a great leap upward into the trees.

Cold air wafted on your cheeks in a welcome greeting from the intangible unknown, as Law took you on an exhilarating experience you never had before. Black branches powdered with snow outstretched themselves to form a path for him to traverse above the trees, as puffs of white fog obscured the path behind you to misdirect anyone or anything that could be following you. Occasionally, when Law landed on a hawthorn or cherry tree, he would pick a bundle of red berries for you to put into your waist pouch to try later. For a moment in time, you forgot about your position as a Red Riding Hood and that you were allegedly being hunted by your own Order. You were once again a wide-eyed child within Law’s black-coated arms that reflected the sincerity of the moon above. You did not know why, but for once in your life, you felt protected, so you took off your glove and stretched out an arm, without reservation, to begin feeling the foliage between your fingers. You smiled to yourself, feeling the chill kissing your hand and proceeded to play with any snowflakes or curious night sprites that danced around it. If this is what it meant being led astray by the wolves, then perhaps you should have done this sooner.

“Having fun straying from the path?” Law asked with a toothy grin, observing how your smile widened each time he leapt from tree-to-tree.

“Yes, very much so,” you replied. Being curious, you ran a hand through the fur on his bicep, which caused him to briefly tense and whip his head down to you with his pierced ears perked up in alert at the unexpectedness. He looked at you with constricted pupils and eyes blown wide in befuddlement, asking you what you did that for. “I’m sorry, I just wondered how a wolfman’s fur felt compared to a regular wolf’s. I shouldn’t have done that without asking,” you say in genuine apology.

Law sighed, jumping down from the last tree in front of the Grandmaster’s headquarters to set you down, “It’s a good thing you didn’t do that while I was mid-leap or we could have found ourselves with a serious concussion before Christmas.”

“A more unexpected holiday gift compared to being ambushed by people you should have been able to trust?” you responded with playful irony, straightening yourself out.

“Heh, I think we’ll find more unexpected holiday gifts once you walk through that door,” he returned, carefully brushing some snow off your crimson hood and crossing his arms in thought, “Actually…you should enter through her office balcony, so I can stake out just in case anything happens.”

Once again, you wondered why he was going through these lengths to help you, but you kept it to yourself. You went to the south-facing side of the building, where the Grandmaster’s balcony should be and threw your grappling hook upward. Law accompanied you on the climb, carrying your basket for you in-between his teeth and tossed it to you once you hoisted yourself over the ledge.

You looked inside the glass doors and saw the Grandmaster’s platinum blonde hair and violet cloak facing away from you, contemplating the updated map of the forest you created for the Order last month. You knocked on the door frame to catch her attention.

She noticed you and went to unlock the door, “Oh? You’re already here, dear? I wasn’t expecting you for another hour in this time of day and weather, no less coming from the balcony.”

“I had to make haste, since this delivery seemed important and the balcony was the fastest way,” you say, setting the basket down on a nearby table, “I heard you have a new mission for me?”

“Hmm? Oh, oh yes, I did,” she responded, as if barely remembering something, “But why don’t you lay down first, dear? You look absolutely haggard, as if you were running from the wolves or some foul beast…you didn’t encounter any beasts on your way here?”

You opted to stand and leaned cross-armed against the doorframe. The rushing cold Law introduced to you earlier was more inviting than the stuffy office, lined with a multitude of hunting trophies and honors. “No, it seemed that most of them are hibernating for the winter,” you fibbed, “Though I encountered an unusual number of Green Hoods on my way here.”

You observed the corner of her mouth twitch; whether in ire or amusement, you could not tell. She moved to her desk and pulled out two crystal drinking glasses from a compartment. “They are most likely scanning the woods for any anomalies that usually occur during solstices. I’m sure your branch chairman sent them out for that reason,” the Grandmaster uncorked a bottle of apple cider and poured the liquid into the cups and offered one to you, “Care for a drink after a long  journey, my dear?”

“No thank you, I’m good,” you politely refused, not inclined towards the risk of poison. The woman never offered you a drink in all the instances you visited, and you doubted that the Christmas spirit influenced this sudden kindness. Furthermore, if delivering the basket was so urgent, why had she not inspected the contents yet nor related your new assignment?

“Pardon my forwardness, but is there something that you require of me to call me here so late in the day?” you ask.

The woman donned in her cloak of proud violet provided you a stiff smile. She put down the crystal glass with impatience and made her way over to the basket, casually inspecting the elements, “Yes, my dear…I require to know why you were seen fraternizing with The Big Bad Wolf at the Crossroads of Pins and Needles just earlier.”

A chill, sharper than the icicles, ran down your spine. How did she know that? Law said that the nearest Green Hoods he could smell were down the Path of Pins. Seeing your perplexion, she lifted the rolled parchment from the basket. When she undid the string, it revealed illustrations of your journey, from the moment you entered the forest, till the point you met Law, before the rest was muddled in inky fog.

“I have the other half of this parchment that allowed me to see what you’ve been up to, my dear Red. I could forgive you if you’d shown up with his pelt, but to my disappointment, you came empty-handed. For a monster of his pedigree, I don’t expect it to have been easy, but for someone being considered to be promoted to a Master Riding Hood, I had hoped you could have slain him like you did to that other beast five years ago.”

She was patronizing you and for a moment you were one with the black branches outside, trembling from the wind with a determination to keep your ground. “He meant no harm and only showed me a quicker way to you, beyond the path. There was no reason for me to kill him, and you must have noticed too that most of his victims were people who were asking for retribution from the forest.”

“Listen to yourself speaking of him like a harmless rabbit; to think that you of all people would be so easily charmed by a wolf,” she tutted, “They are savage incarnates fueled by their own bloodlust. We don’t need a reason to kill them, it’s just natural to do.”

“That is not what the previous Grandmaster thought,” you countered, “There is always a consequence for actions, and the forest is not our open season to do as we please.”

“That short-sighted philosophy is why the last Grandmaster lost their position to me, because they valued empty ideals like honor instead of putting the town’s well-being first. Under my wing, the Order and the town have flourished in affluence…thanks to the market value that märchen creatures provide these days.”

You gritted your teeth, “Are you telling me that I was sent on all those mercenary missions abroad in some wastelands, just so you could run a black market?”

The blonde woman only hummed and went to stoke the fire, “Correction: expand the market, my dear. And you had to be sent away, since you would have caused an awful lot of trouble for me. Unfortunately, you were too good at your job, so I couldn’t prevent your recommendations for promotion.” The chamber seemed to grow colder, despite the vigorous flames lapping in the fireplace. “Another thing I would like to ask is why you purloined the bones of the Big Bad Wolf’s kin before the year of your Final Hunt. They could have sold for a very handsome price, you know, since many people seek Valeteum wolves for the benefits their flesh and bones bring. But you don’t seem to be the merchant type, so the only explanation I can think of is that you went to bury them…and you know that is taboo. I can’t have anyone under me with a high rank who keeps secrets and may become renegade one day,” she concluded. 

You tensed, but said nothing, because it would have been a waste of breath. “So that’s why Law appeared to know me and went out of his way to protect me…I allowed his family to pass onto the afterlife and often punished those who tried to poach the forest creatures…if he has a similar job as I do in his world, that means we have an unspoken pact with each other,” you thought to yourself. 

Finding your silence as an admission of guilt and refusal to further cooperate with her, the Grandmaster pulled out a pistol from the fireplace bas-relief and fixed the barrel at your head as if executing a lame animal. “For your last mission _______… please die quietly.”

 “Like hell I would,” you growled, artfully dodging the bullet nanoseconds after the pop of the gun. At that very moment, a shower of glass crashed throughout the office, and you rolled away from the impact area to see Law in his beastly wolf form with shadowy mists exuding from ropes of his midnight coat, and golden eyes blown wide that could have melted from seething rage at any moment. He moved to guard your body, buying you the few seconds you needed to unlink the blades on your snake sword to command them in a defensive web around the both of you.

“Oh what’s this? Don’t tell me you are in love with my Red Hood to go through these lengths, Wolf.”

Law let out a dangerous snarl, baring his teeth against the Grandmaster, “She’s done many favors for both your organization and the forest, so I have a degree of respect for her. And I repay my debts, unlike you.” With every word, his murderous aura intensified. “My wolf pack helped your band of hoods exterminate the cockatrices all those years ago, and what did you do? You had us killed, including my little sister…for cheap pawn money?!” he gnashed his teeth, itching to crush the Grandmaster’s neck between his jaws. 

She fired 3 rounds of bullets in the gaps of your defense, but your eyes were quick and you commanded the movements of your blade to shift, so they would block them. This allowed Law to lunge towards her in a zig-zag motion that made his striking zone unpredictable. He only managed to brutishly tear at the Grandmaster’s prized violet cloak, as she ducked and attempted to sweep his hind legs from under and shoot him, which he anticipated with a leap and a swat of his claws that tore at her cheek. You guided your sword like a lethal ribbon around the Grandmaster’s right arm, including the leg she was balancing on, and quickly ran to her from the side in order to relink the chain, so you could cleanly slice the limbs. However, you were only able to cut her arm, being stopped mid-technique, as she attempted to shoot a sedative dart from her left gauntlet. Thankfully, Law was quick and managed to catch the dart and crush its contents between his hands.  

Suddenly, the office doors broke down with a flood of Green Hoods and White Hoods, who served as bodyguards for Order councilmen.

“ ________ is a traitor colluding with the Wolf to murder me! Get them!!!” 

You hated that some of them sneered, suggesting that they’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. Being trained professionals, they quickly surrounded you and Law, who found yourselves back-to-back. 

“Was approaching me today a part of your grand revenge plan?” you ask him, poised to use your blade-sweep technique, “because if it was, I guess I should thank you, since it kept me alive.”

“No. Believe it or not, I didn’t plan for this, but I don’t like the idea that someone highly regarded by both of our worlds would be assassinated in a low-blow by backstabbers, so you could say I acted on a whim,” he replied, and you could sense the corner of his lips curling into a smile, “Let me show you why they call me The Big Bad Wolf.”

“Oblige me,” you smirked.

With a terrible growl, he effortlessly leapt upward to the chandelier, knocking back the first wave of hoods with a pulse of shadow energy, as you unlinked your blades to cut at the ankles and throats of those remaining in the front lines. Those in the back fired their crossbows and sedatives at him, which he rendered apart by slashing the air and projecting a burst of electric energy at them in a shape reminiscent of wolf claws, tearing at the crowd. You took this opportunity to wrangle a horde of the mob in place, so you could run through them, alternating between linking and unlinking the snake sword in a figure-eight motion that sent a few opponents into the air and injuring many with the blades. As you worked, Law focused on the groups at your rear, diving into the heart of the crowd from the chandelier into a mass of obsidian shadow, before his large claws ripped through the crowd in a reverse half-moon motion, incapacitating the entirety of the horde. Your lips almost touched once you rounded back to each other in the midst of the skirmish, and despite only meeting tonight, you both agreed that you made an effective team.

By the end of it, your red cloak and his dark fur were coated in blood, and only the Grandmaster remained atop the sea of the wounded or dead. She held her bloody arm and backed against the paneled wall with a face of a madwoman desperate to know what went wrong, and Law’s lupine ears could hear her bones rattling in genuine fear, like the ashen film trembling on the fireplace. She would be the pre-sacrifice on the Eve of the werewolf’s birthday to ensure a full moon on Christmas Day…and Law was the reaper.

“If you want me to be a savage incarnate, that is what I’ll become for disgusting prey, like you,” Law growled, returning to his hybrid form and wrapping his claws around the Grandmaster’s neck, “And a word of advice for the afterlife: You shouldn’t demonize the monster, but the thing that created it.”

The fear in her eyes intensified, but then drew back into one of mirth looking past Law’s face, and that was when you saw a White Hood poised with a crossbow aiming at your wolfman.

“LAW!!”

Your legs moved by instinct, in spite of the exhaustion from fighting for the past twenty minutes. You threw yourself in front of him and extended your sword to pierce into the White Hood’s heart, painting a scarlet blossom across their uniform. Law’s eyes widened in horror at that split second, as you cried out in anguish when the arrow pierced between the flesh of your shoulder and collarbone. No, this can’t happen to someone he cared about again. Not now. He quickly snapped the Grandmaster’s neck, to catch your falling figure in his bloody arms, swaddling you in your crimson cloak.

“________-ya!”

You hissed, feeling the poison coating the arrow burn through your skin and seeping into your veins. 

“Out--Out--Law--poison!” was all you managed to choke, taking deep breaths between the searing pain.

Law’s eyes were moving in panic, despite his composed facade. Knowing he had to act quickly, he tore your sleeve from your blouse, and stuffed it in your mouth, coaxing you to bite down, so he could pull the arrow out without you biting off your tongue. It hurt him to see you suffering, so he placed a kiss on your forehead as an apology, before swiftly pulling out the arrow, which made you wail in agony. 

It was painful. So painful. Not only because you could possibly die within the next hour, but also due to your aggrievement at being betrayed by people you thought you could trust—feeling as if all you worked for was for nought. It wasn’t your decision to join the Riding Hood Order, but you tried to make the most of it, which turned out to be wasted time. You thought that if you did your best, exceeded expectations, and helped improve its reputation, that somehow, you could have a sense of fulfillment or earn a sense of freedom in a life that only seemed to be dictated by expectations and giving, but seldom getting. But in the end, you were a caged trophy bird that they discarded once you did not sing the tune they liked. 

“Hang on ________-ya. You’ll be alright, I’ll make sure of it. Just hang on for me,” you hear Law whisper to you in a desperate promise. You give him a weak nod, not finding the strength to open your eyes, as tears streamed down your face. 

December winds gently whistled against your ear and cooled your aching muscles, distracting you from the speed Law was carrying you towards an unknown destination. The scent of lupines soon overtook your senses, once you felt Law slow down, and it tempered the strong iron from the blood staining the both of you. He took you inside a place where sounds became hollow, which you guessed was his den, and gently laid you down on a bed of conifer leaves covered with an array of tarp or cloth he’s salvaged over the years. A confused hum escaped you, feeling him undo your red cloak and pull down your blouse.

“This won’t hurt as much compared to earlier,” he assured you, “I’m going to suck out the poison, so I’ll need you to relax as much as possible.”

You nodded, letting out a puff of cold breath to relax your body and gasping when you felt his goatee brushing your skin followed by his warm tongue on your wound. It was a foreign sensation, but strangely pleasant. Not wasting any time, his silver eyes glew gold again and he began sucking the poison out in earnest, causing you to jolt in surprise. There was a little pain, but he was careful not to hurt you with his canines and took your hand to rest it in the thick of his hair as consolation. You clung onto Law with great ardor while he alternated between extracting the poison and spitting it into a nearby bowl, and you found his fur analogous to the softest black silk anyone could find throughout the continent. Taking shallow breaths, you laced your fingers in his mane, appreciating the sensation and sometimes petted him while he worked, earning you an occasional low rumble of canine satisfaction from him. Once he determined that every drop of poison was removed, according to your scent, he gently cleaned the opening of the wound and lapped it close with his Valeteum wolf abilities, as if you never were shot at all. But by the time he was finished, you were already asleep from exhaustion.

Morning broke, yet the sun remained obscured by blankets of thick silver clouds bringing down a gentle snowfall around Law’s sanctuary. He was the first to wake, wishing to sit a morning vigil for you in the case that someone followed your tracks, but you also stirred from a shock of frost hitting your skin when his warmth left you. Pine and spruce began to overtake your senses mixed with a touch of warm muskiness, and your eyes fluttered open to meet Law, who regarded you with a depth of tenderness and concern that made you feel at home for once. How strange it was, that a wolfman whose eyes carrying the dogmatism of ice and the dangerous allure of candlelight could have done so much more for you in one night, than any other person had done for you in ten years, aside from the previous Grandmaster. 

He carefully threaded his fingers through your hair, taking a moment to appreciate the tactile sensation of a human who was unafraid of him, and found that you felt like the embodiment of suppleness and serenity. You were lost in studying his canine features and the soothing feeling of his hand on you, that you did not realize how closely you were pressed against him in the traditional wolfish fashion to conserve heat. You only became aware of the intimate proximity when Law shifted a little to lick off a snowflake that found its way onto your face from the outside, causing you to flush.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, amused at your flustered expression.

“A little,” you replied, pulling your red cloak closer to you in a habit of hiding your embarrassment.

Your wolfman stood up to fetch you some food he gathered for the winter, allowing you to see his full height for the first time. You didn’t have an opportunity to thoroughly take note of his features from the previous night due to the darkness and the fight, but now you could appreciate how his midnight fur possessed a subtle azure sheen to it when hit with light, and how his pelt beautifully accentuated the sculpture of his strong muscles. When he returned with a basket of various fruits and meat, you found yourself captivated by the black ink that decorated his broad human chest. ‘The wolves will lead you astray,’ they told you, but you would rather get lost with him than stay with those who bite the hand that feeds.

“You probably don’t eat them raw, so I’ll make a fire to cook them for you, ________,” he said, referring to the meat.

You smile, noting that he dropped the suffix he used the previous night, “Thank you, but you don’t have to wait to eat on my account, you must be starving from yesterday.”

He only made a sound through his nose, “The host has to treat his guest, right? So we’ll eat together.”

You found yourself chuckling at his reference to your encounter yesterday, which he was internally grateful to see, since you slept with such a grim look on your face throughout the night.

While you were waiting for the meat to cook, you took an apple for yourself. Law was too preoccupied making sure to not burn the meat, so you took the initiative to tap on his shoulder and offer him some blueberries and lobeira from the basket, since you knew wolves were fond of the fruits. Although you were not sure to what degree wolfmen shared the same traits as their animal counterparts, he responded with gratitude, and you thought that you would melt seeing how his big bushy tail swayed back and forth, while eating out of your hand.

After your meal, Law took you on a walk with him around the surrounding area. In this sanctuary, winter had seemed to freeze the river of time, so that every aspect of the world, from the most humble toadstool to the proud eastern winds could do as they pleased. Branches of pine and juniper brush your shoulders in greeting, as you follow him past a screen of willow flanked by opalescent boulders to a meadow of lupines roamed by ethereal winter märchen that painted a scene analogous to a living glass menagerie.

You’ve encountered many enchanting spectacles throughout your patrols and private promenades throughout the forest, but never like this. 

“So this is what you protect?” you ask Law in wonder, spinning around in a circle, when a few small bats, created from the essence of auroras, flitted around you in curiosity, “It’s not so different from the peace that I try to preserve in my world.” 

 He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, when an adorable bun-shaped snowflake sprite rested on his head with a chippery giggle. Law’s ears twitched and a confused expression graced his handsome features. The creature began bouncing on his head, wanting him to play. He let out an exasperated sigh, telling it that he was currently occupied, and lifted the little creature off his head to give it to you, seeing how you were gushing over it. 

“It isn’t. The only difference is that you were born into the human world and I was born as a märchen. I never planned to be the protector of this forest, but human activity had gradually been killing its heart over the years, which you probably noticed by how hostile it’s grown towards humans,” he related, walking you down rows of powdered flowers, “I had nothing to lose at that time back then, so naturally, I was chosen to be its champion. But if no other being was up to make sure there was justice for us märchen, it might as well have been me, in the end.”  

His resolve was firm, from the way his voice communicated his thoughts to you with deep conviction, but at the same time, there was a weariness in his eyes that you were all too familiar with. He too yearned for freedom. He too, yearned for a moment where he could simply exist as he was, without burdens…without expectations…without the tales spun about him.

“I understand your feelings, completely,” you tell Law, releasing the snowflake sprite into the air to take his hand in yours, “It’s not a thankless job being able to see the ones you protect being able to live out their happinesses and how you make many lives much easier…but…sometimes you wish that you could have what you provide for others, too.” Law tightened his grip on your hand, silently demonstrating to you how he felt akin to that sentiment. Your eyes assumed a melancholy he had seen many times when you would write or contemplate to yourself in your private alcove, but he let you continue, “Blades like us have to be the best at what we do and occasionally bloody our hands or work in the shadows, so the beings in our world won’t have to. It’s fulfilling, sharpening your skills and seeing all the gratitude and acknowledgements, but…”

“But in the end, you are the only one who will fend for yourself, because it’s expected that you can shoulder anything that’s thrown at you…even betrayal,” he finished, as if seeing right through you. Law knew your mind quite well, from the times he watched you write in your journal or mused to yourself. Though even if he never watched you, he would have still understood you, like how the moon understands the heart of wanderers. 

“Yes…That’s why I can’t go back. I’ll either be gutted like prey or if I’m forgiven, I’ll just be a hound on a tighter leash,” you ruefully state, “And that’s no way to live.”

He nodded in agreement, “Then in the meantime, you can live with me until you decide where you want to go from here.” You gave him an appreciative smile and continued walking hand-in-hand through the field of powdered lupines, before Law stopped in his tracks,“Follow me, I have one more place to show you, before we go back to the den,” he tells you, leading you deeper in the meadow of lupines.

You pass through a cluster of cedar and a group of ice stallions dancing upon skates of white fog, until finding yourself in a part of the lupin meadow that seemed familiar. Solemnity and repose characterized this place, and in the center of the meadow clearing were three cool-grey stones gently dusted by the snow. You easily guessed the importance of Law bringing you here. 

“This is where I buried your family six years ago.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I can hear their howls in the wind on some days, thanks to you.” He closed his eyes for a moment, deeply focusing on how the wind made instruments out of the trees, before he heard it. “They want to thank you again for allowing them to pass onto the afterlife, for that time you gave your lunch to those lost wolf pups three summers ago, for slaying the manticore and holding humans accountable in the forest for their actions, and—” Law’s ears perked up in alert, as some rosiness crept on his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“My sister is getting ahead of herself…” he grumbled.

Now you were curious and cocked your head to the side, asking him what she said.

Law was reluctant, but it appeared like he was having a difficult conversation with the wind, seeing how his ears shifted a lot, as he began growling in exasperation. “She said ‘thank you for being her big brother’s mate,’” he finally grunted, gritting out his blush. Fortunately for him, you were too speechless in your own blushing to react for a moment.

“T-tell your family that I thank them and that I deeply appreciate their gratitude, though I was only doing what I thought was right,” you say, pulling your cloak closer to you and struggling to compose your heartbeat. The magic of the woods held many unexpected things, indeed.

You and Law spent some time talking about your childhoods and enjoying the tranquility of the scene before you. It was nice being able to have this undisturbed moment in time. There were intervals where it was difficult to look each other in the eye, after what his sister said, but whatever words you lost in your growing awareness of each other, Law made up by picking you some lupines that caught your eye. Before you returned to the den, you opened your waist pouch that still contained the red hawthorn berries and cherries Law picked for you the previous night and laid them atop the graves as an offering. Then you heard it. It was only a faint trace, but you swore you heard three distinct wolf howls in the wind. Although Law maintained a neutral expression, that gesture alone held a deep gravity of meaning to him.

“I still want to know why you went so far to save my life and helped me so much,” you finally ask him, bringing a snow-powdered blue lupin to your nose while walking ahead of him, “Providing me the resources to face the manticore and cutting off its tail for me should have been enough compensation for helping your family pass on.” 

His black tail swished in thought, looking into the rolling horizon, and then to you, who appeared like a deep red rose in the expanse of whiteness and frozen flowers, “I didn’t really know my reasons at first, either. I assumed it was because I felt that I still owed you a debt for the favors you did for the forest, or because I wanted to see you become a Grandmaster in the future for the betterment of both our worlds; however…”

He paused, conflicted if he should honestly express his heart to you, but the way you regarded him with patience and fondness provided him the certainty of courage to press on.

“I…I’ve become attached to you after seeing what kind of person you were. After all these years, I still could never take my eyes off you,” Law said, halting in place.

The tinkling of snow crystals ceased and the forest seemed to lean in to listen to its’ champion’s confession. A cool gust blew the ends of your crimson cloak upward in a manner reminiscent of doves holding up a bride’s veil, and you felt your heart being reeled into his own with every gradual step towards his solitary figure in the snow. You’ve seen and drawn his eyes many times, to the point where you memorized every nuance, and in this moment, they reflected both genuine affection and a fear that you would be repulsed by a wolfman’s love. If you turned away or were a step too late, you felt as if he would disappear into the winter mist as a transient memory.

But you wouldn’t have that. 

In the spanse of one night, you’ve experienced tastes of freedom, peace, understanding, and tenderness through him, and you refused to let that go. For once, you had someone who was unconditionally on your side and showed you aspects of life that you were only able to manifest in your imagination. He had been protecting you all this time and you wanted to return that by protecting him for the rest of your life. You wanted to protect your Big Bad Wolf, whose path was undeniably intertwined with yours, and to whom your heart had been calling out to for all these years.

“Law, if I told you that I’ve fallen for you…what would you do?” you ask, standing just a breath away. You gingerly reached out a hand to brush dots of snow that nestled into his midnight mane, but before you could finish, he took your hand in his and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’d make you my mate,” he answered, taking a deep inhale of your scent.

“Then I want that to be my future,” you tell him, raising your head to look into his eyes, “I want you to be at the end of where I go from here.”  

A rumble reverberated through his chest, communicating his happiness and excitement, “Are you sure you want that? Once I mark you, you will be bound to me forever.”

“Yes,” you answered with a smile of certainty, “It would mean that you would always be with me.”

He slightly released you from his embrace, so he could see your expression, which held the same untamed excitement he did for the unwritten future. But this time, Law did not want to watch you for long, as he brought his lips down to yours in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around him in the fashion of beastly jaws that refuse to release its prey and he responded by deepening the kiss, deliberately dragging his tongue across your lips to get a small taste of you. You pulled away for air, before leaning in again; this time with more gentle pecks and allowing him to explore your mouth, which he did with a wolf’s thoroughness. You felt your legs lifted from under you, as Law carried you in his arms back to the den, and the way his tail could not stop wagging back and forth was extremely endearing. 

The scenery around you appeared to celebrate too, with the blue, white, and violet flowers releasing their sweet scent into the air and the snow dancing in practiced illustration on wind currents that whistled around you. Distant lupine howls traveled from the mountains to your ears, causing Law’s heartbeat to race and join in the throng with his own impassioned howl.

Ah yes, today was the werewolf’s birthday, after all, and the solstice was the gateway towards rebirth and new beginnings…and the last Valeteum Wolf of the North just announced to all that he found his mate.

He laid you down on his bed of pine and spruce, gently bading you to remove your cloak, which you gladly did. You discarded every piece of your human modesty and willingly bared your neck to your Big Bad Wolf.

He gave an affectionate lick to your skin, before making a sound of beastly hunger and bit down on the supple flesh with vehement fervor. You whimpered from the shot of pain, but it would evanesce by tomorrow, like the snow of years past. Law made sure you wouldn’t be in pain for long and kissed the tears away.

“My mate…,” he whispered against your skin, carefully tearing and biting through your human flesh to slowly reveal a coat of beautiful fur underneath. He was consuming you completely and entirely, and you shrugged off the remnants of your mortality in willing surrender.

“My mate,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss of your own to his bloody lips.

Tears melted into the skin, like snow under the first sliver of heavenly brightness, and evaporated to reveal the birth of a new märchen created on the night of the werewolf’s birthday. You opened your eyes to the phantasmic light of Christmas Day, cradled in the safety of Law’s arms, with your bodies tangled within the blanket of your crimson cloak. You found him watching you, like always, with an inquisitive and tender gaze, inspecting your new lupine appearance. Every sensory aspect seemed more profound to you today, signaled by the twitch of your wolf ears and the new acuity in your nose…and you couldn’t help but comment about the variety of sensory dimensions you were taking in.

“What big eyes you have, Law,” you muse to your wolfman, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that trait before.

Law raised an eyebrow at your odd morning greeting, but decided to humor you. After all, the world will unfold itself anew to you following your transformation last night. “The better to see you with, ________, and watch you become a part of my world,” he smoothly responded.

“What big ears you have,” you continued, giving them a tender scratch. His ears flicked and folded at the satisfying sensation.

“All the better to hear you with, when you need me and listen to whatever’s on your mind,” he said, bringing your hand down and taking it in his.

“What big hands you have,” you chimed with laughter, closing your fingers over his own.

“All the better to hold you with,” he responds, moving atop your body and wrapping an arm underneath to pull you flush against him.

You smile, finding this little game between you two amusing. You raise your head to him, shooting him a coy glance, which he returned with a smirk showcasing his dangerous canines, “My, Law, what big teeth you have.”

“All the better to eat you with, _______,” he says, playfully nibbling your skin, as wolves do to demonstrate affection. Laughter filled the den and naturally died down when you nipped at his nose and maneuvered your weights, so you were now on top of him. He was initially caught off guard by your strength, but welcomed the new vantage point to admire his mate.

“How do you feel?” Law asked you in a low timbre, concerned if there were any complications with your transformation.

“I feel…free,” you answer, flashing him your pearly canines, “Let’s go on a brief patrol? We might be able to catch a glimpse of the Wolf’s Sabbath tonight.”

“I have an even better idea, _______,” he smirked with a raw primalness glazing over his eyes and tying your bloody red hood around you, “Let’s hunt.”

And it only took a look between you two to understand that the snow would be stained red by those who trespass on the Wolf's Sabbath that night.

🐺Tagging: @undercoverweeeb, @gabrielasalazar18, @friendly-kaiju, @kallian88, @fireflykaizoku

[daisiesandshakes]

Hi can I request jealousy headcanon for Isaac,Arthur,Mozart,comte please

Hi dear nonny! Thank you so much for your request 💖

Sorry it took so long, night shifts were exhausting...

Here you go, I hope you like it! 💝

(@ashavazesa , I'm tagging you, maybe you like it!)

Jealousy headcanons

for Isaac, Arthur, Mozart &

le Comte

Isaac

The shy, poor boy doesn't know what hits him, he wasn't prepared... It is the first time he's really in love and it is his first time being jealous.

He wouldn't talk about his feelings in the beginning, because he feels a bit ashamed about them. Additional he's not used to talk about feelings anyway, so he bottles up.

You recognize his strange behavior like avoiding your glare, his abrupt short answers (especially towards the male who causes the jealousy), but at first you can't figure out where it comes from. He would also act more possessive than usual, suddenly kiss you firmly in front of others or pulling you close.

Though he knows you love him truly, he's unsettled deep inside and needs your reassurance. You'll have to push him slightly to open up, to tell you what's on his mind. When he does...oh boy.

With glowing eyes and fervent words he'll beg you to SHOW him your love, pushing you onto the bed. Needy for your touch and your words of love, nothing remains from his shyness. He won't let you go the next hours, making sure you're really his.

"Isaac, please tell me what concerns you... did I something wrong?"

You're sitting next to him in his room on the edge of the bed.

"N- no... It's not that."

His behavior was oddly brusque today and you are really concerned.

With a sigh you overthink what happened all day and then something klicked. You spent a lot of time with Napoleon while he teached the kids. Could it be?  "Isaac, are you jealous?"

The vampire flinches and draws his gaze away from yours, a blush appears on his handsome face.

You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. Gazing deep into his beautiful cherryblossom eyes you ask "Isaac, you know that I love you, that my heart belongs only to you, don't you?"

"Y- yes. My head knows it, but..." suddenly he pushes you down.

"Show it to me." He whispers, his voice husky and deep, his eyes dark with passion before his lips captures yours in a fiery kiss, his fingers ripping your blouse open.

Mozart

Mozart is probably the worst with jealousy (besides Theo). He even can't stand the thought of another male being too close to you. It doesn't matter if it is another resident or a complete stranger, he is very possessive and you only belong to him. No other has the right to touch you.

If someone touches you by accident, his possession drives him to get rid of the foreign scent on you immediatly.

When it's a strange male (talking to him would be enough to drive him crazy), he would be broiling jealous, unable to express himself. Normally Mozart is very straight forward, but not when it comes to express his feelings for you. Blaming you for being too trustful, he would even start an argument.

But Mozart loves you so much, you're so precious to him, he'll regret his harsh spoken words soon and searches for a way to talk.

Admitting his jealousy, he shows you that there is only one way to calm him down. Claiming your body and mind he would train you to who you belong until the sun rises and your voice is hoarse.

"M- Mozart, what-" you gasp as he pulls you behind the thick curtains, sealing your lips with his. "You spent enough time with the other residents." He breathes hard as he pulls away. "Especially with Leonardo. I don't like his cigarello scent on you." Your eyes grow wide. "Wolf, are you jealous?"

A faint rose appears on his cheeks. "I don't want to be...But yes I am."

"But... You don't have to be jealous. I love you so much, Wolf. There is no room in my heart for another man."

"I know, meine Liebe. But it seems that my heart doesn't accept this truth fully." His radiant violet eyes pierces into your soul.

"What can I do to make you feel better, Wolf?"

A slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he leans forward. "Await me in the thermae. I'll make sure the only scent that remains on your body is mine, and obviously I'll have to remind you the next hours to who you belong." fervent spoken words next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Arthur

He never felt jealousy before. Being a rotten flirt, Arthur is used to be the reason for that emotion, he never thought it could happen to him.

Trying to hide his feelings he'd cover them with playful words and actions. But when a male approaches you and gets too close, he won't think twice to make clear you are HIS girlfriend, holding you at your waist, whisking you away.

Deep inside Arthur has the feeling he doesn't deserve you, so he is afraid to loose you and gets easily jealous. He wouldn't like to admit it to you , worried he could scare you off.

But you are not able to overlook the pout and scowl on his handsome face or to overhear the truth hidden behind his joking words, irrelevant how much he tries to mask his feelings.

Arthur has a deep longing for your reassurance in words and body language, he needs your touch so bad, be prepared for exhausting, delightful hours between the sheets after he got jealous.

You are sitting on the couch in Arthur's room, rambling about your day with Vincent. Lately he gives you advices in painting techniques and you enjoy them, happy to make progress in your hobby. Arthur looks up from the papers with a smile, sitting at his desk.

"Darling, you sound really happy. I know you enjoy painting with Vincent, but are you sure you didn't decide secretly to leave your filthy boyfriend for this pure angel, Luv?" Arthur chuckles. For a split second a hurt expression appears in his loving gaze and his voice didn't sound as lighthearted as it should. You set your cup of coffee down with a surprised look on your face. "Are you jealous?"

A slight rose tints his cheeks as he pulls his gaze away.

You hurry over to him cupping his face and locking eyes. "Arthur, you are the only one for me. You are the love of my life, you know that, don't you?" Your thumbs caress his cheeks.

Arthur's big blue eyes waver at your words and he inhales deeply.

"You have no right to be this adorable" he whispers with a husky voice as he pulls you on his lap. Kissing your lips ardently his fingers already unbutton your blouse. "Say that again, luv" he smiles at your lips. "And then I'll make sure you won't ever forget that you are MY adorable girlfriend" he breathes at your skin as his lips travel from your jaw to the neck.

Le Comte

Comte seems to be always so calm and thoughtful, but when it comes up to you all this is nothing but dust in the wind. He waited for you and your love for centuries, now that you are his he's confronted with the deepest fear of loosing you.

Also he is insecure inside, thinking he doesn't deserve someone so precious like you (are you surprised?). This uncertainty is more fuel to the fire of the jealousy that rages in his heart.

Despite his always graceful and sublime conduct le Comte is very passionate and possessive. He can't bear another man touching you, even it is only your hair. On the other side he wants you to live freely, interacting with the other residents as usual. So he would get jealous real quick, but:

Wearing a mask of gentlemanly behavior and used to lock up his feelings you wouldn't notice his jealousy until it's "too late". Maybe it was only you and Leonardo in the library, sticking heads together and giggling about something. Maybe it was a stranger at the market, picking up an apple for you that dropped to the floor, holding your delicate hand while putting the apple into it.

When he corners you after that in his room, there'll be no escape. Le Comte will make sure that you're his, taking possession of your body and mind until there is nothing left but thinking of him and moaning his name. He will only stop when you pass out due to the overwhelming passion.

Le Comte cocks slightly an eyebrow due to the sight that is presented to him in the library. Arthur stands in front of the bookshelfs, carrying you bridal-style. "What happened?" he asks with honest concern. "Oh, our pretty dove wanted to spread her wings. I catched her as she fell from the ladder" Arthur replies lighthearted. "Luv, if you want my touch so bad, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to risk your health to get it" smirking he looks deep in your eyes. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you hit him at his shoulder. "Put me down, Arthur!" With a wry chuckle he lets you go, giving le Comte an amused sideways glance. "Okay, my performance as a hero is over, back to work then." With these words Arthur leaves the library and you exhale, looking concerned over to the pureblood. "You know that it was only an accident? I feel a bit embarrassed and.." Le Comte cuts you off, smiling gently.

"Ma cherie, don't worry. I understand what happened, everything is fine."

With a relieved smile you pick up the dropped books "I should have known, that something stupid like this doesn't concern you..."

You hear a sharp inhale and look up. His expression is serious, his eyes burn like melting gold in a furnace. Approaching you with slow, predatory steps he asks softly "When did I say I don't care?"

With a fluid move he pins you against the bookshelf, kissing you senseless. You both pant for air as he breaks the kiss. "I await you in my room. Now. Your chores are done for today." Comte leaves you with trembling legs.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it 💝

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

hello! happy birthday!!! hope you have a good one! how about for headcanons: how your favourite character/s would treat their s/o on their birthday please and thank you

Characters: Dazai x reader; Atsushi x reader; Chuya x reader; Akutagawa x reader; 

Warnings: might be spelling and grammar errors; tad bit suggestive

Notes: Hi there anon! I understand that I’m super late on this and I’m sorry! Thank you sm for the birthday wish. Thanks for sending in a request, if this is not what you wanted feel free to request again. This is the most characters I’ve done in a single post, let’s see how this goes, under the cut because it gets long

______________________________________________

How Dazai, Atsushi, Chuya and Akutagawa treat their s/o on their birthday headcanons:

Dazai:

It all really depends on whether you enjoy having your birthday celebrated or not, because he understands if you don’t want to no matter the reason

I can’t really decide whether he’s one of those people who would wake up their s/o at 12:00am just to wish you happy birthday and throw confetti everywhere probably is

He has the whole day planned out

And he knows everything and anything you’d like

This bandage man tries making breakfast for you while you were asleep and could give it to you once you awoke along with a good morning kiss

However, little did you know that while you were asleep, he almost set the kitchen on fire, pancake batter spilled on the floor and he had almost cut his finger off with a knife

But it’s all worth it if it’s for you he thinks to himself

When you awake, the first thing you see is his face in yours, he dons a rather huge grin and then throws his arms into the air and says “Happy Birthday My Belladonna!”

The next thing is he takes you to whatever place you wish to go

But! First things first, he makes sure he gets the day off and leaves behind an angry Kunikida

Want to go to the beach? Park? Movies? Or just sit and cuddle at home under the blankies while watching movies or the likes? He’s down for it esp the last one

He’ll sneak little kisses throughout the day and always somehow manages to put a smile on your face

He might get you a gift but honestly i think he’s already a good enough gift himself

When night finally falls upon Yokohama, he’ll cuddle the hell out of you in bed, whether it be summer or winter. He’d place kisses all over your face until he’d reach just above your chest, you’re just too precious to him unless he decides to spend the night in a different way if you know what i mean

Atsushi:

His smile is so precious i can’t-

Would cook breakfast and it actually comes out good. Although he doesn’t think so, please reassure him it is

He’ll get your favorite flowers and put them on the tray in which he’s gonna put the breakfast on

“Happy Birthday Y/n” you smile sleepily as you awake and find him sitting at the edge of the bed

You’d give him a kiss on the cheek and he’d turn all shades of red

He’ll probably take you to the fair or just like Dazai he’ll take you anywhere you’d like

Prefer something more peaceful and serene? He’s got you covered

Of course he’d ask for a day off from work and he’d actually get it without a problem because he works so hard

Even though he can’t offer the most expensive gift, you don’t mind and either way you’d love it even if he didn’t get you a gift

He’ll hold your hand gently throughout the day and smile at you so lovingly, he’ll thank the heavens that such an angel was born on this day 

Let’s just say that it were Spring, he’d take you cherryblossom viewing

It’d be so lovely, the gentle breeze floating through the air, cherryblossom petals raining down upon the earth, when he’d look at you, he’ll instantly smile

His eyes look like they were in a dream, when he looked at you, admiring you, wondering how fortunate he was

At night, he’d hold you in his arms, might I add that he’d have his tiger arms transformed if you request, although he would be a bit hesitant

It’s the softest, warmest, coziest feeling in the world, and you fall asleep to the soft beating of his heart, he’ll kiss your head and tell you how much you mean to him and how much he loves you before eventually falling asleep himself

Chuya:

Treats your birthday like the most important day ever

Definitely not the type to disturb his s/o during their beauty sleep just to wish them at 12:00am

Like a professional chef, he prepares the best breakfast one could ask for with a red rose to finish the tray off

He’ll kiss your lips, your cheeks and forehead as you wake up and find him smiling wishing you a happy birthday

He’d get the day off, working some things around in his port mafia schedule

He’ll take you out anywhere you’d like, however for dinner he’s made a reservation for two at a fancy restaurant

Sure he seems all fancy, but he doesn’t really spend money on himself, rather he’ll shower you with gifts and praises and acts of love and affection

Would be a total romantic and kiss the back of your hand and hold it like you’re royalty 

He’ll offer only the best gift to you, he’ll know what you like

Be it books/literature, jewellery, anything really

This ginger will admire you with endearing ocean blue eyes, he’ll tell you countless times throughout the day how much he loves you not like he doesn’t everyday

Ends the day of at the restaurant and once night approaches, he’ll hold you in his arms like you’re the most precious thing to him or if he has other plans the bedroom would be lit with soft sweet scented candles, silk bedsheets and everything to scream romantic

Akutagawa:

He kinda freaks out internally as to what to do for your bday

I mean has he ever even celebrated his own?

But would put on an apron and whip up a delicious breakfast, literally puts his heart and soul into it

However, expect to get scared first thing in the morning

This man has high patience, so he’ll just be standing there at your bedside, staring at you waiting for you to wake up because he doesn’t wanna disturb you

Not only is he staring while holding the breakfast and flowers he’d picked for you, he’s admiring you

Taking in every little detail about you, honestly his cheeks turn a little pink from how cute you look asleep

Give him a kiss as thanks and he’ll stop working

Didn’t know at first whether to take the day off or not but decided to do so

Prefers taking you somewhere quiet, serene, better if there are no other people are around actually

Either you’ll both stay at home or go out as per your wish

The idea of cuddling with you under the blankets makes him internally smile

But so does spending the day out with you

He’d love to just sit under a tree in the park and enjoy some peace, serenity, shade and you

A little picnic is what he’d go with. Figs and tea really is all the snacks he needs. He gazes at you, your smile, just automatically makes him smile

He’ll let you lay your head on his lap and read a book, sleep or basically whatever you’re doing, while playing with your hair, twirling it, running his fingers through it

The night ends with him holding you with your back facing his chest, arms wrapped around you, his nose in the crook of your neck and feather light kisses being placed on your skin

He’s not all that good with psychical acts of love and affection but he tries

[kagami--uchiha]

💀

TW: Death

Kagami never really thought that he’d have someone he would take care of in sickness. Maybe later when he would be a father but that would be something completely different. 

With a soft sigh he poured some of the soup he had prepared into a bowl, adding some vegetables and a cooked egg as he went and placed the bowl next to the tea and the small container with medications on the tablet. “Good!” He whispered contently, picking it up carefully to bring it over into the next room, where he was tending to Hashirama, who was only a shadow of who he used to be, frail, pale and weak. Skin sitting tight over his bones, muscle and flesh long had given way, making him seem so incredibly thin, that one would be afraid to break him. The once dark brown, silky long hair had turned into a dark ashy color, matted with no more shine to it, but still framing him neatly. 

“Ohayo Hashirama!” Kagami singsonged as he entered, pulling she Shoji door shut behind him before he turned back. “I’ve made you a vegetable soup today, I was able to get a lot of mushrooms even, since you like them so much!. Along to that I prepared you a Green Tea with Cherryblossom petals... Mito-Hime told me you like the soft taste!” And even though Hashirama usually was cheery, always having a smile when Kagami entered, today he was awfully quiet. Maybe he didn’t feel well? Worry was creeping into the Uchihas face as he quietly set down the tablet next to the Futon, kneeling down so he could get a better look. 

His expression was slack, but peaceful, chest absolutely still and Kagami registered it... it was just... his brain refused to process what he was seeing. Hashirama had passed sometime during the night, it was to be expected yet Kagami liked to think that there was still time, that he would know when it was about to happen but now he sat here, right next to the man that wished him a good night, telling him that he is a lucky man to have had a nephew like him and slowly he understood. 

Kagami might’ve not known... But Hashirama already felt that it was time. Hashirama made his peace with himself and the world with giving those he loved last words and now... He probably was re-united with Tobirama and Madara, having a drink like old war buddies. 

But he was still here, sitting seiza next to the man that meant so much to him. Next to the body of the man that he had considered family but now... He would be alone, a fact that broke him, no, it shattered him. Heart bursting in his chest like a mirror that took a clean hit in the middle. And just like a mirror his face immediately showed what he was feeling, grief, loss, loneliness. A choked out cry escaped him, shaking his body with silent but painful sobs, hands then finding their way onto Hashiramas arms, fingers digging into eh fabric of his yukata as he tried to find support.

It took him a while until he found his voice back, but all he managed to say was...

"Please ... Come back..."

[fionainnl]

Eufraatstroom 13

The blessed quiet of the house comforts and summer has come showing the garden full of bright light. But empty now for the objects from our travels are gone and color has disappeared from my beloved garden.

What joy the house and it’s garden have given in the past 15 years! It had my soul from the moment we built you. In those 15 years it was the background of my life and experienced every change with me. When I was home, I planned and cared and dreamed. Cried out; ‘Hello house, how have you been?!’ when I came back tired from travels.

My happy, sunny and good home. You gave me light and shade. Cozy warmth in winter under the blanket with the fireplace burning merrily. Happy family Christmasses and hosting gatherings with friends from all over the world. You left me cool in summer letting soft breezes from open windows caress my skin. You never let me down, you never broke down. During the worst storm you stood strong. You have always been there, embraced, caressed and comforted. You held my secrets and were my protector. You saw my loneliness and ached for me. When mum died the loss was tremendous, but you, number 13, helped dry my tears and it was alright.

I’m not the only one with feelings for you. I know for a fact that Mister Mozes loved you. He had his special winter and summer spots and lorded over you. At least he thought he did! So did others; during the years we’ve had a number of visitors.

Regular guests were the Turkish dove couple. We had a kestrel perched under our roof for many years and a pure white dove came to visit and one time sat resting on branches for several hours. We’ve had a cheeky green parrot couple come to the garden and have had blackbird and sparrow make their nests. Of course I shouldn’t forget Robin redbreast whose red breast stood out cheerfully against the green hedge in wintertime. I was always very happy to see him!

We’ve had bright green frogs in the pond and an enormous brown toad under the stones. We’ve had our home boy mr. hare in the street sitting in front of the kitchen window just chilling a bit! Every spring the pond exploded with new born fish and the water lily gave more flowers with each passing year. So did the peony and the rose and the mapletree and the cherryblossom tree. I planted everything that I loved in you and you nourished and enabled them to blossom.

You didn’t want to be rented out or sold. But when the time came you finally agreed. And then you were sold within 2 days to a happy couple with a young daughter who adore you. You deserve to have a family, you’re the type of house who will also provide a safe haven for them.

But I will miss you house, my lucky number 13. I’ll remember you always. You were an oasis in a busy life. With you I could rest and be me.

Now I’m saying goodbye to our friendship. Thank you Eufraatstroom 13, you were wonderful.

Exception; next post will be back to Dutch.

[itsladykit]

Song Drabble 1 — Cherryblossom

Hurt/Comfort

Song—“Bad Liar” by Imagine Dragons

-

Papyrus smiled.

It’s what he did.

When the weight of the rock ceiling pressed down on him.

When Undyne’s expression grew stiff at any mention of further training.

When Sans dismissed his fears that he was unlikable, unlovable with a simple, “aw, bro—who wouldn’t love you?”, as if Papyrus wasn’t acutely aware of Sans’ popularity and his own lack of friends.

He just...smiled. No matter what.

It had worked for years, so he did the same when they reached the surface. Smiled when humans yelled at him as they drove past, looking to startle him. He smiled when they stared at him, as if he were a freak. He smiled when they flinched from the touch of his bony hand, visibly shaken by the press of bone on skin.

He smiled. And he played dumb. Don’t let them see that they hurt you. Don’t let them know. It would only give them a reason to hurt you further.

But Cherry—Red—didn’t seem to think so. He swore at the humans that honked as the couple walked down the street, their fingers laced. He stared back at them when they stared at their clasped hands or their bony features. He squeezed the humans’ hands tight, smiling viciously when they tried to pull away from his handshake.

“why do you put up with these assholes, creampuff?” he asked after they walked past the cashier, both carrying coffee. The human behind the register had stared at them as soon as they entered the coffee shop—then blurted out ‘but won’t it just pass through you?’ when they ordered coffee. Red had seethed, but Papyrus had laughed it off and explained how magic absorption worked. “they aren’t worth yer time.”

Papyrus sipped his latte. “THEY JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND, CHERRY. AND AS AMBASSADOR, IT’S MY JOB TO EDUCATE THEM!”

He snorted. “yeah? well, lemme know when you get some time off, ‘cause that seems like a full time job.”

Papyrus just kept smiling. “THEY’RE TRYING.”

He snorted. “if ya say so.”

“I DO!” Red blinked, but Papyrus maintained his blank grin. “HOW’S YOUR COFFEE?” he asked, changing the subject.

It was so hard. Smiling. When Helen proposed that monsters shouldn’t be allowed on the sports teams. When it was suggested that the most recent flu season was made worse by the monsters’ presence—as if they were carrying and spreading disease, regardless of the piles of evidence against it. When yet another human tagged the embassy with red letters and hateful words.

He was so tired. And it felt like he’d been smiling for years. The expression felt brittle. Fragile. So, alone, he sank slowly to the floor of his apartment and covered his sockets, breath hitching.

It hurt. It hurt so much, and his soul felt so heavy, so tired. Another sob wracked him, and he didn’t force it back or push it down. His whole body rocked, and he gasped for breath.

Someone knocked. He sniffed. “WHO IS IT?” It was so hard, keeping his voice bright and cheerful, when it felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

“orange.”

He didn’t smile. “RED?”

“tha’s not how the joke goes, creampuff. are ya gonna lemme in?”

Papyrus couldn’t smile for him. Not right now. He simply couldn’t. He couldn’t be the bright and cheerful presence everyone expected him to be.

“I—“ He swallowed. “DO YOU NEED SOMETHING?”

“jus’ came by ta see ya.”

His chest hitched. “IT’S...IT’S NOT A G-GOOD TIME, CHERRY.” His voice wavered.

“...creampuff? you okay?”

Papyrus swallowed. “OF COURSE!” he lied, “WHAT COULD BRING THE GREAT PAPYRUS LOW? I C-CAN CONQUER ANY OBSTACLE IN MY PATH!”

Ted didn’t reply right away. Then—

“hey, pap? it’s okay, ya know? ta be upset. ya ain’t gotta be happy all the time.”

Papyrus closed his sockets and brought his knees to his chest. “I—.” He swallowed. “i know.”

“...can i come in?”

Papyrus didn’t answer. He waited until Rd knocked again to ask, “WHO’S THERE?”

“boo.”

“BOO WHO?”

“see? knew ya were cryin’ in there.”

Papyrus wiped the tears away. “THAT’S A VERY STRANGE LAST NAME, MR. BOO.” Red laughed softly. He knocked again. “WHO IS IT NOW?”

“radio.”

“RADIO WHO?”

“radio not, here i come.”

Before Papyrus could protest, Red teleported into the room. “aw, pap.”

Papyrus looked up at his, his cheekbones tear-streaked and his sockets over-bright. “CHEATER,” he complained. Red just wrapped his arms around him and pressed their foreheads together. Papyrus shuddered. It felt good. So, so good. He shuddered, trying to hold back another sob, but Red just rubbed his back and murmured soothingly. Realizing he was fight a losing battle, Papyrus clutched at Red and allowed himself to cry like he hadn’t since he was a babybones.

“‘s okay, pap. ‘m here. ‘m here fer ya.”

[shibuemiyuu]

Desires - Hakuoki Fanfiction - Chapter 5

Okay, here’s another chapter. Just want to tell that I can’t find any picture where Hijikata is sleeping. So, I use this one... Even though there aren’t any situation happened like in the picture, but at least in this one he IS sleeping... Although again this situation was what happened in Hijikata’s mind when someone soothed him in the middle of his suffering that happened in this chapter. Just read to find out which part I mentioned about.

Thank you so much to the one that had read my story. Like I said in my previous post, I will tag everyone that can be tagged that had liked my story. Just tell me if you want to be remove :D

And just a site note, I think my Chizuru is rather bold compare to the Chizuru in the anime or in Hijikata's route. I don't think that the Chizuru in there would dare enough to take any action like what I've made her do in my story. So she's maybe a little OOC, but I need her to be like that. Because Hijikata needed to be provoke; he is to aloof with his feeling toward our girl. Someone has to make a move for the story to get going and for them to be working.

May you enjoy this chapter also.

Chapter of the story:

Prequel - Prologue - I - II - III - IV

@hijichiweek @sabinasanfanfic @hidetheremote @eliz1369 @kana-fiesta @legallyblindgamer727 @shell-senji @flower-dragon @animeluver1798 @silverlotuslilith @local-radical-bandit @kimi00twin @csilla-nocturine @blueeyesgirl @flowerynameslover @blackonblacknct @sora-yume-zero @cherryblossom-night @kirakirachiizuru @naukatti @bumpdabump @looloca24 @lescahiersdesable @anime1027 @samarayikimera @magicaloddcouple @riana-one @rabcatthechandler @higosha-to-yumi

Miyuu

-V-

Huff...Huff...Huff...Huff...

A ragged and heavy breath could be heard from inside one room. And inside that room there's a person, lying on a futon. A very sick person that none other was the oni fukuchou.

Hijikata was suffering in his room, courtesy of himself of course. At last, the day he couldn't do anymore of his antics had come, because just to open his eyes was VERY difficult, let alone to move his body. His stubbornness of not want to admit that he was sick and needed to rest had getting into him in the end. He's completely motionless on his futon.

'I'm gonna die… My head is splitting… My body is shivering… My ears are ringing… Breathing is so hard… Did someone pour a sand to my mouth? It feels so damn itchy. I feel so cold…’

He opened his eyes a little bit but closed it immediately. He felt so exhausted, so weak, so sick...

'Is this the end of me? So pathetic....'

There was a rustle sound of his soji door being slide opened and closed. A person had entered his room. Because of his condition, he didn't hear when someone had entered his room. But when that person sat beside him, he could feel the presence. He tried to open his eyes to see whatever presence he had felt. But, again, all he could see was a blurry silhouette.

'Is that a Shinigami? He's so black. I don't think a living person could be so black like this one.' Clearly, his mind was having a delusional because of his high fever that he couldn't recognize the person that had enter his room. And no, it's not a Shinigami. 'Shinigami-san, you can’t take my soul now. This is not my time yet. And also... I haven't told her about that night. Just go away will you!'

"Go...away...you...Shini...gami..." He spoke with a very weak voice and his raspy voice was not helping.

"I'm not a Shinigami Hijikata-san. It's me, Matsumoto Ryoujun. And I'm not going anywhere until I check on your condition and give you a medicine," Matsumoto answered Hijikata with final tone before he began to examine him. Nonetheless he was amused by what the vice commander had said. Before he even touched his body to do his examination, he'd already knew how bad his condition was. 'If I don't help him know, a real Shinigami will come to get you soon enough, Hijikata-san.'  Matsumoto mused inside.

Even in his weak state at the moment, his sharp mind was still working. He recognized whose voice that speaking, "Matsu..moto-sen...sei...?"

"Yes, it's me. I come to examine you Hijikata-san," Matsumoto answered while continued to examine the vice commander. Hijikata stayed silent the whole process. Well, he didn't have any energy to do anything after all. And because of his sore throat, speaking was plain impossible.

For sometimes Matsumoto checked his body condition. After finished, the doctor sat still and looked at the patient. Then he sighed.

"Really... A real Shinigami will come to you soon enough if you still act like what I've heard about. I know you can hear me Hijikata-san. For your own sake, don't ever move from your bed, at least for a week. Get a plenty of rest and sleep. And-"

Matsumoto voiced was somehow getting softer in Hijikata's ear. To the point that the voice commander no longer could hear it, because he was succumbed again by sleep in the middle of talk.

"....I will see you next week to check on your condition. And I hope you'll regain your health back," Matsumoto said and looked at Hijikata. The patient was closing his eyes. He once again checked for Hijikata pulse and he found the vice commander was only sleeping. He tried to make sounds as little as he could when he stood from his position and exited the room.

Outside, Matsumoto met Yamazaki that had waited in kneeling position in front of the room. "I had examined Hijikata-san's condition. I will prescribe some medicine and please give him according to my instruction later. Give him a light meal that can be easily digest. And more importantly, don't let him OUT of the bed for at least a week."

"I understand," Yamazaki answered and bowed his head.

Matsumoto shook his head, "Really, I know that you bunch are stubborn but this level of stubbornness is beyond what I think."

After that Matsumoto gave the prescription that he mentioned earlier with the instruction also. Then he left the compound with a promised to come back the week later.

---

Midnight, with as quietly as possible, someone entered Hijikata's room. With a tray that brought the fukuchou's medicine and a bowl of sweet red bean soup with rice cake -Hijikata's favorite- the person entered the room.

The room was dark, but that night the moon was in full shape and shone brightly. For a brief, it alighted the fukuchou room when the person slid the souji door and entered the room, and revealed the person face and figure; a petite figure clad in pink kimono. Worried could be seem in the brown eyes of the said figure as the person entered the room and closed the door.

Because of the fullmoon, the room wasn't as dark as it usually was. That's why Chizuru, the figure that came to Hijikata's room, could move around inside the room without difficulty.

Even though this was the latest thing that she wanted to do, but before she realized it, she had offered herself to take care of the fukuchou, when Yamazaki explained to the other captains of what Matsumoto-sensei had told him at dinner time.

The other captains were quite surprised for her outburst. Of course the person itself were more shocked then the other.

'What did I think when I said that?'

The answer was she had been worried and thought about Hijikata all the time. She heard from here and there of what Hijikata had done while he was in his state. But she didn't have any courage to say anything to him regarding his antics. In the end, she couldn't stand it anymore. She HAD to see him. And when she would had a chance to see him without the latter knew about it except now? Even though she had to resort to this bold (in her opinion) action, it's because she didn't want to wait any longer. Her desires to be near him was at the limit.

Chizuru put the tray beside the futon and sat beside the sick man. She looked into the man that had took over her heart. His face contorted with a pain that he felt right now. At first she was hesitant, but slowly she lifted her right hand to set aside the hair that cover Hijikata's face and put her hand to his forehead.

'It's still burning hot. Yamazaki-kun had given the medicine once before this. Looks like the medicine hasn't worked yet.'

Against her cool and cold hands, the skin was felt so hot. There was a bassinet that fill with cold water and a cloth beside the futon near where she sat. She took off her hand and wanted to cool off the fever with the cloth, but then something stopped her.

"Chizuru...?"

She froze -her hand still in the midair, just an inch from Hijikata's face. She looked to him. Afraid to see the purple eyes stared at her with accusing look. But, the eyes were closed.

...Did he called her Chizuru? Not Yukimura?

....Or was it her imagination when she heard he called her name?

"Chizuru."

The eyes that were closed before, slowly opened. What greeted her was a hazy and confused gaze; not a cold, composed and calculated stared he always gave.

"What are you doing?"

Her heart rate was quickening a beat or two when she heard her name was called for the second time. When his eyes were opened she stopped her breath for a second. Before her thought told her to run from the room, his voice had stopped her to do that.

So soft, so weak, so... Not him.

And once again her heart, that care, felt a compassion and love for this man, had taken over her rational thought.

"I come to take care of you, Hijikata-san."

---

His body was burning. There was a fire inside his body that made him so hot and weak.

He felt hot and cold at the same time. Oh, Kami-sama, if he could pass this thing, he wouldn't ever want to experience this kind of thing again. He would never underestimate cold, EVER again. Who'd thought that a cold could bring down the infamous oni-fukuchou to his state like now?

At one time, he kind of felt that someone has entered to his room once to give him a very bitter medicine. He spitted it out and choked it when the medicine entered his mouth. He thought that someone tried to give him a poison, but then the person that gave him this deadly potion told him that it was his medicine. The taste was similar to Ishida Powder's, his family medicine... He drank the medicine with difficulty, because of the awful taste. Somehow he could hear Heisuke and Souji laughing because of the medicine. For a split second he thought he was really done for.

That someone also gave him a bit of porridge. Maybe that's why he felt a little better and felt some strength. But still, the pain won't subside.

Long after that, nothing happened. Then in the midst of his suffering, suddenly there was this coldness that gave a cool sensation to his forehead. A soft touch that also very soothing. Not many things that could give him a feel like that. In fact, only one person that could give him this feeling. Such a strange thing to be felt when the same person was also the only one that could ignite him, doing the opposite of what he felt that time. To ignite his desires that began this whole problem and matter. But that was for another time.

Then he said her name, not her surname, without him realizing it. Twice. He'd thought that he'd imagined her presence, that's why he said her name in question the first time. But he was certain that she was near him. He called her name again in certain, while opened his eyes.

And there she was, sat beside him. He's asking what did she do inside his room. And what greeted her was a smile of an angel. Although he never met once but he knew if there was an angel, the presence and the smile would be like what he felt and saw now.

"I come to take care of you, Hijikata-san."

Was he dreaming?

"I bring your medicine and a bowl of sweat red bean soup with rice cake. Can you sit and take your medicine?"

No, he's not dreaming. The woman that had occupied most of his thought this one month was there, sat near him and she said that she would take care of him. The Kami was so good to him.

"Hijikata-san?"

"Huh?" Hijikata said absentminded. "Oh, let me try to sit." He tried to move his body. But looks liked it still not possible for him. Then without missing a second, she helped him to support his body. She watched him closed enough to know if he was restraining his body or not. He would not want for Chizuru to be in closed proximity to him in its the usual him (at least until he could control his desires for the woman), but because of his weaken state he accepted the help.

When he already in sitting position, he met her eyes that looked worry for him. "Are you comfortable with this position?" asked Chizuru. He could see Chizuru's cheeks a bit flush from their proximity, before the woman leaned away from his body to five them a distance.

"Yeah, it's okay." He answered with raspy voice.  He turned his head and saw the tray. He stared at the bowl of food for sometimes before he said one thing that the usual him would NEVER say it out loud.

"Feed me."

Chizuru blinked in shock, "I beg your pardon?"

"Feed me. You bring me the food and medicine. I want to eat first before drink that medicine. But looks like I'm still weak and don't have enough energy to move my muscle. So, feed me," He paused before added the last word, "Please, Chizuru."

To be continued

[cherrycvla]

hello hello !!, this is sam, an actual shy n’ smol cactus. i’m setting you up on this blind date called mateo, you don’t know him? he’s that local mechanic with the permanent sleepy eyes. the guy with the bloody nose and deep voice, y’know him ‘specially ‘cause he reeks of car sick and cigarettes. yeah! that guy, him !!  he’s pretty great.  

oh jeez this is actually pretty long. when did this turn from an intro into a bible pls.  

kim taehyung + cismale + he/him — have you met mateo sa? they are a twenty-two year old mechanic known as the austere. a bisexual capricorn, they are impartial + attentive, as well as inflexible + reckless. their soulmark is a mountain ridge line that extends past their hipbone, and they can feel the emotions of their soulmate.

intro;  tw; abuse, death, blood, slight drug + alcohol abuse mention.

so let’s set the scene. mateo’s family moved to the island when he was twelve. himself, his mother, his father and his twin sister. the kids are meant to believe that this is a vacation to enjoy the warm weather opposed to a chilly murky korean winter. they don’t pack for forever but it turns out those pictures mateo left in his childhood home of his baseball team and his first girlfriend, his trophies and those 3pm held hands, would all be missed. a season would turn into three, a month would turn into years. eventually they would stop asking when they’d go see the cherryblossoms bloom. 

it’s not too bad in sunny captiva though. not when your father owns the local car shop and the normal at home punching bag starts getting pats on the shoulder for working hard and not bleeding on the carpet. there’s food, and money and reasons not to call the police at 4am.  it’s five short years of people that come and go, where only mateo’s hands and forearms bear the carelessness of stripped engine block threads and corroded coughing carburetors.

mateo thinks his soulmark burns for the first time when he learns his mother’s hyundai elantra collides into a tree just outside of fifth avenue on the coldest day of that winter. but it was just the hurt that pooled acid in his gut.

it’s only ten days until their seventeeth birthday and only two spend the three nights in the hospital for them to be told they’d only have one parent to congradulate them. 

when your dad smiles like sunshine took a shit in your coffee, no-one thinks he could try to suffocate you while watching hell’s kitchen reruns. he does try though. thin walls and cracked plaster never stopped him for long. but mateo’s grown taller, and his skin aches to bruise bone and taste the momentary shreds of freedom in the form of numbness or blue static behind his eyelids. thats where he saw his mother again, and could hear the sweetness of moonsik in his ears when the sound breaks and reality bled. 

and you learn that your sister steals kisses from your eyelids on those nights that she brings you hot rags and melting spicket water icecubes for the darkness that cradles your jawline or the weeping black under your nose. that the one that calls you moonsik sounds too much like her and not enough like the woman whose legs you clung to with your thumb in your mouth as a child.

it’s okay though, mateo overcompensates with bringing back customers, with keeping food on the table and too many blood stained cigarettes tucked against his lip. 

it’s not okay on a day where you accept a pack of methols and a half-cocked kiss as payment for fixing the door on a electric blue 2016 porsche macan with cherry red seats and pink fox-fur pompom balls in the window.

 not when its from a boy.

( a boy with dark golden skin and tastes of cherry coke and weed. )

not when you’re mateo sa 

definitely not when your father discovers the taste of fireballs & scorpians.

because that’s when you discover that fists and muddy steel-toe boots are kinder than metal pipes that nearly disconnect your brain from your spine. 

and that’s when kisses on your eyelids feel more like tears against your cheek.

and mateo sa doesn’t remember what it feels like to escape. because when he does, and the sun breaks the horizon.  he forgets why he’s run at all. friends of that night turn into strangers. lovers turn into mistakes. one cigarette turns into twenty. 

it’s okay though, mateo overcompensates with bringing back customers. with keeping food on the table. with too many blood stained cigarettes tucked against his lip.

dossier;

mateo is kind, but he is particular. he doesn’t seem to care for people immediately, and he may seem rather cold, however with how many people come and go in his garage let alone his life.  it’s difficult for him to keep connections. there are moments where he is stubborn, or abrasive and simply staring through people without recourse.  once someone gets to know him they realize that he’s quite energetic and sweet.  a bit on the clingy, laughy, get in your face just to be in your space kid of guy. he’s playful when he wants to be. touchy when he wants to be. forward and ignorant of personal bubbles when he wants to be.  there are times where he’s even desperate for things that aren’t part of his reality. in those days he drink in more than his share of attention. 

fighting has been a part of his life for as long as he could remember.  if he hates someone, they should be able to see it in his eyes more so than in his body language. he is unafraid of letting someone know he doesn’t like them, however doesn’t always put his hands on others first. he’ll laugh if it hurts half as much as the beatings he recieves almost daily. then he will resume with breaking his knuckles on their face so he can get back to the next car he’s supposed to work on. 

for those who first see mateo. they may see glimpses of his frustration. his outbursts and tantrums when fixing something that doesn’t seem to listen. but it’s the forgetting of faces and people who are supposed to mean more, into the forgetting of entire days. 

buying cars just to enhance or upgrade them had become a hobby. to drive them around town and honk his horn at women and their soulmates and highschoolers on their bikes. to show off a forced talent for making burnt trash into sparkling diamonds. the rest of the extra money he gets from selling off these cars goes to giving his sister whatever she wants whether its gucci handbags or 5$ bags of weed on saturday nights. 

aaaa, basically please plot with me!! let me stop before this becomes ten pages long. i’d love to write lots more with all of you. come to meeee ~ 

[missmidnasart-blog]

There's days like today where I have to take a step back and remember how far I've come and all my challenges along the way. Being a mental health challenger, it helps to take just 10-15 minutes each day to remember what I'm aiming for, who has been beside me through thick and thin and what has given me a thicker skin. This badly done tattoo is an epitome to this. It is my own design, i put hours into the drawing for one apprentice to ruin it. I can see blow outs, incorrect shading and alterations to the original linework. I use it as motivation for getting my own apprenticeship so i know what NOT to do to someone and to not push my teacher to let me tattoo earlier than i am ready. It is a double edged blade, my love for my closest friend and soul mate who has been beside me, and a negative reminder of what can happen in the tattoo industry. As a work colleague told me once, take everything with a pinch of salt. #reflection #artist #tattoo #oldschool #owndesign #thightattoo #anchor #cherryblossom #tattooart

[katwarrenart-blog]

Starting tomorrow, "Sun Drunk", a painting created for a special exhibit at Liberty Town Arts in Fredericksburg, Virginia, will be on exhibit. . The “Open to Interpretation” exhibit spotlights the works of 18 literary artists whose work was randomly assigned to 18 artists to visually interpret their work. All pieces will be published in a limited-edition book with all profits going to Mental Health America of Fredericksburg. . The show opens on October 6, 2017 and this was my poem – . Every Blooming March by Madison Seaver . The wrong words are cunning and sound right. So when I say that going back would feel like winning the lottery– maybe I mean it like a gambler, with all the fierce hope of a fool who forgets how winning ain’t sure, how bruising is loss, how tiring to come down, how gutting to waste my chance, let slip any bright thing that smiles… or maybe I’m remembering someone else, chasing a pretty, sundrunk girl who took for her wife all the breadth of an old, slow river, and one day ceased to take breath long and low, as young things ought– ceased to breathe easy, ceased to breathe free. Ceased. Oh, but her wife never took her under! And a girl like that is owed no less: loved ones, soft sheets, poetic justice; all her warm bayou love turning back for more, accepting with reverence her last breath of air. Instead– she ceased to breathe, and she did not die drowning. Every blooming March I start to retell it– the cherry twigs breaching my skin, studded with firework bubblegum blossoms– and every May I stop. I paint over her like so much wallpaper, so many walls, so much bad art. But I will not forget her name. #libertytownarts #poetry #poem #sundrunk #May #March #dmv #bayou #love #painting #Instaart #lovefxbg #cherryblossom (at Stafford, Virginia)

[wayfitness]

Today I Rest in Gratefulness 🙏... As I see my body transform and look back on all its gone through these last few years... 2 years ago I was fighting for my life, as I was also trying to house a life that was being created inside me. From years of living with Stress and Heart Ache my Physical Heart was Failing me. Dr's did what they could to patch me up so little Mav and I could live. It took ALL of me to find Enough Strength to even get up and pee let alone be a mom 😳 But I knew God had my back and had my Helpful and Supportive Family in His hands 💗... 1 year ago I was Alive but Barely. I was losing weight faster then my body could cope with, weak, and my skin was Grey. My heart rate was through the roof and I was soooo tired. I was tired of being tired, and sick of being sick. I could barely keep up with the needs of my kids let alone plan my wedding or even look after me. And still I knew there was an end to this someday, and I knew God was working. These struggles would soon be my Cherry Blossoms 🌸 It Hurts Growing New Branches and New Buds, just like it Hurts as our Body's Change and Grow. But at the end of all the Pain there is Beauty 😘🌸 These Struggles are Perfectly Orchestrated by God to bring out the Greatest Results 🙏🌸... Today I Am Strong! Where one would see a Nasty Scar I See Strength and Fight. Where One May See Lose Skin and Scars I See Life I've Given and Been Given... Strength to love on 2 of my 3 Littles that are feeling under the weather 🤒 Strength to compromise with my youngest when all he wants to do is cuddle and all I want to do is go for a walk 💪 26lbs is alot to carry for 2-3km... This is My Challenge to You Today. Take a Good Look at Yourself in the mirror and Reflect on All you've gone through, and how Far You've Come. Though our Stresses may have a Different Story our Body's still feel Stress and Pain the Same. Maybe you're in the middle of Growing a Branch or a Bud, and it Hurts it Really Hurts. But I Encourage You to Hold On, You Are Stronger then you know, and that Blossom Will Bloom Soon I Promise 🌸 #yogamom #healthylifestyle #strength #scars #pain #cherryblossom #blessings #liveandlove #namaste