🦊
occasionally subtle

★
YOU ARE THE REASON

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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@attristine
🦊
“ always remember how they’re supposed to fall like a head severed from the body. don’t they look like camellia buds, now? ”
The Curse of Onibaba
Jingo-ji 神護寺 (2019) by Patrick Vierthaler
“Tsubaki-san…”
(was going to be a longer comic but obviously that never happened lol)
… a writer lives in the midst of absurdity and imperfection.
~Dazai Osamu, “Letter to Kawabata Yusanari”
Bungo Stray Dogs Multimuse - Loved by Kui
art by cenva
'it’s a friendship present.'
too lazy to link. // @attristine
Skepticism lines his brows, and Guren’s face steels at he looks to the vampire. There’s no telling what the hell he’s plotting. A camellia flower lies in Tsubaki’s hand, the color of crimson like the rain that he commands. Guren’s lips purse, but he accepts this ‘gift’ as a token of temporary calm. Although, some part of him senses this flower is a warning for what is coming --- or rather who is coming.
❛ Is that what we’re calling it? ❜ A rhetorical question that earns an exhausted tone. If this is a representation of their friendship, then this ‘friendship’ is flimsy at best.
❛ A shame this’ll wilt by the end of the week. ❜
海棠春 by 蓝色珊瑚
Me hunting with my vampire friends: cracking open a boy with the cold ones
apologies for the radio silence ! this is a quick notice that I’ve been on @saccharot & will continue to be for a little longer since this is who I have the most muse for lately.
tragic that someone this sexy has to go through this much
🦊 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.
She hadn’t meant to stare– she’d only been curious about the stranger in the forest is all. And, wary that they might be aggressive she’d held back to watch from a distance. Just for a little while. Until he spoke up, and she knew he was talking to her.
At first, upon being noticed, she shrunk back and hid herself behind a tree. It took her a few moments after that to steel her nerves again, and cautiously emerge from her hiding spot.
“I… ah… I-I’m.. sorry.” She managed to stammer, making sure to keep a good distance between herself and the stranger even after she’d shown herself. She didn’t know anything about him, after all, and it was best to be safe.
“I didn’t mean to, uhm.. stare, like that.” She couldn’t quite admit she hadn’t meant to stare at all, though. “I was just– I-I was curious, I guess. Ah, anyways, what’re you doing out here? You’ve, uh, been standing there for a while.”
tame and sheepish she is no subclass of his, but he sure can see the weaker ones in her gaze, in her body language : apprehensive and mistrustful, though the latter Tsubaki can comprehend without the need for further questions. ( no matter how convinced of his own strength, faith in strangers doesn’t come with ease anymore. )
the skies indeed begin to cry their rouge tears above his head. too ominous a sight to those unfamiliar, nothing more than the manifestation of his sin – literal, literal melancholy – to him. it may scare her away, he muses silently ; it may prompt more inquiries in a voice so feeble.
❝ is that so? I must have lost track of time. ❞
eyes that match the tint of those cryptic raindrops lift themselves to invite the summer sun shower onto his face a gesture so serene, as compared to the display of gentle downpour staining the leaves red. ( 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇, it is anything but. ) the vampire glances her way again. ❝ sometimes, one gets tired of the city. is this where you live? I didn’t mean to intrude. ~ ❞
“My life has become a neverending game of ‘illegal or just frowned upon?’”
— Tsubaki, probably
🦊 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐗𝐏𝐄.
turquoise hues meet with the being that traveled just a few meters behind him . ( what intentions lie behind devilish smile , he knew not . ) nonetheless , he is irked . what did he want to gain from following him about ? caution in his sharpened gaze , he rests a hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword . the shift of the scabbard keeps the silence from turning ice cold as he stares at him without an immediate response . – those red eyes were ever so familiar . practically demonic . something he is far too accustomed to .
“ … it sounds like you already know the answer to that . now , what do you want from me ? ”
a reaction so typical, so expected, and still that gaze – the echo to his provocation – sends him on the proverbial trip down memory lane : back to an era when men were concerned with matters of the blade much more than today, of their own accord or otherwise merely a couple hundred years ago. 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄, almost contrasting with the fox’s expression ; neither stoic nor relaxed, what would the accomplished ones say upon witnessing a code twisted to his own liking? he won’t draw his katana, even if the thought does linger for longer than one would deem necessary. no matter ; he’s got to answer first.
❝ no hidden intentions on my end. it’s just a little nostalgic, to tell you the truth there aren’t many of us left nowadays. but if you’d like… ! I don’t mind proving myself to you. ~ ❞
@hariolor sent : Oh, look it is her sinbling! Have to offer him a drink and a seat~
he’s convinced this is how real si(n)blings treat one another : with consideration, and enthusiasm upon meeting after not even that long a time. what better way to greet the Lascivious than with a bouquet of crimson blooms? perhaps not her favorite – he cannot tell yet – but the commander of all flowers cannot visit without bringing in 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃.
❝ have you been well? ❞
🦊 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆.
concern weaves twixt sinews , collating akin to petals unfurling yet she refuses to prod. for cognizance swells in his reticence , 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 ( & though a reposte rests ‘pon the tip of her tongue , careening tween respect & irrationality , the virago stills. ) thoughts held in stasis as tiers curled , meticulous ease wrought from years of practice & brows furrow momentarily in lieu of words that threatened to point out his folly.
a hum treads ‘pon pursed tiers , strands spilling akin to ink as she shifts. ❝ oh , i know those ! my mother used to love them. they are beautiful indeed , i have no objections. 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢’𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥. regardless of its connotations , they’re beautiful nonetheless , no ? ❞
mother? how many centuries has it been since he last spoke of his own? a memory so distant yet cherished nonetheless lost in time, holding onto dear son as one of the reasons he would later walk the path that leads to war. ( she was a lover of spring blooms, he recalls. spring blooms, the ones whose significance spelled life… not death. ) no wonder a fellow pillar turns to seas of red spider lilies, looking upon them with fondness – despite their implication – and understanding. 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄, whether their nichirin blade inflicts it or they meet it while gripping a bloodied tsuka. ❝ in that case… ❞
it’s easier for one’s smile to widen some when company delicately urges it out of them.
❝ … why don’t we go pick a few? I don’t want to spend my day off solely around the estate. ❞