kamwritesshit

[kamwritesshit]

Stray Hyacinths.

Honestly, I’ve been on a roll the last few weeks. Here’s some cute Florist x Tattooist AU with TasuTsumu!

Word count: 3,717 words

"Just so you know, Tasuku, the flowers are all really happy and honoured to have been your model to all those sketches you've drawn," Tsumugi commented and chuckled as Tasuku was fixated on a few bluebells, the florist now unsure whether the tattooist was really sketching all those flowers for his customers or he had some kind of ulterior motive. Nonetheless, Tsumugi preferred Tasuku's presence than the typical emptiness of the shop before he even knew Tasuku existed. He very, very much preferred that because at the very least, his flower shop meant something to someone other than him and his grandmother, whom he gifted white lillies at her funeral. He was more than ready to say farewell and he felt like his grandmother was ready to leave the world of the living, knowing she had passed her wisdom to him.

Tasuku stayed silent but Tsumugi didn't mind, as he was a bit too fixated on those bluebells and plus, it gave him a chance to sneak up behind Tasuku to peak at his work of art. He stood on his tiptoes (not that he was that short; Tasuku was just taller and he's also quite the muscular fellow too) and he marveled at what was scrawled across his sketchbook. He had never seen such a masterpiece in person before, and knowing he made it possible made his heart flutter with absolute joy. The bluebells weren't mere bluebells on the murky yellow page of his sketchbook; they were bells which swayed and rang melodiously, enhancing both their beauty and their use among the fauna that they are ever so close with.

"That's amazing, Tasuku! I love how detailed the curls of the bulbs are! You're amazing, Tasuku," Tsumugi showered some praise onto the tattooist as his cheeks flushed pink, feeling more impressed and excited than usual. The florist could've sworn he saw a tinge of scarlet on the other man's cheeks but that was most likely wishful thinking. Tasuku kept on sketching his chosen specimens and Tsumugi was more than happy to leave him to his work. Still, he wanted to strike up a conversation somehow with him but his fixation on the bluebells made it almost impossible to do so. But Tsumugi decided to go for it. A little conversation won't do no harm.

"Did someone specifically requested bluebells for a tattoo?" Tsumugi started and Tasuku froze. Tsumugi's eyes widen in confusion and slight bewilderment, as Tasuku has never froze or even seem caught off guard in his presence. But he must say, he quite liked the fact that he managed to bring out a different side of Tasuku. He chuckled to himself and waited oh-so-patiently for his response as he wishfully thought again: Tasuku must've ran out of solid reasons to come and see him so he used the old 'I'm borrowing your flowers for me to practice drawing them for tattoos' excuse which was quite the clever one, as it'll last Tasuku a while.

"...No. Someone requested hyacinths. Thanks for reminding me, Tsumugi," Tasuku obliviously answered and Tsumugi could only crack a nervous smile out of embarrassment. 'Well, bluebells and hyacinths are pretty similar anyway because they're part of the same subfamily, but I guess being precise is part of a tattooist's job,' the florist thought. Plus, would Tasuku even know the difference between actual hyacinths and bluebells? Not that the florist was mocking him, he was genuinely curious, is all. Though Tsumugi would love to see him attempt to differentiate the two, however he'll do so.

"Oh, uhm, you're welcome. I'll help you find some hyacinths," Tsumugi responded and sighed, the serotonin from before dispersing almost instantly. He kept repeating the fact that hyacinths and bluebells are rather similar in his head and it probably should matter less to the tattooist than to him. But then he wondered; maybe not only the tattooing business was surprisingly demanding, maybe the reason Tasuku was so precise about what flowers his clients want was because Tsumugi does care about its differences. And so he planned to stay silent until the other man has fully finished sketching, even if he'll end up drawing the whole Scilloideae subfamily.

As Tsumugi searched for some hyacinths around the store, he wondered another question he constantly wondered: should he get a tattoo from Tasuku? He's mostly afraid of the pain but if it meant bringing them closer and gaining more understanding towards why many people do it, he's willing to try. He's been spending weeks mustering up the courage to...to what exactly? To waltz in Tasuku's tattoo parlor and courageously ask to be tattooed? To not have any urge to scream or even gasp at the sight of a needle painting an eternal picture into his skin? Or...to not be scared to approach Tasuku because he has what he thinks were uterior motives?

Ulterior motives. If it meant bringing them closer.

"It's fine, Tsumugi, I've found them," Tasuku called out from the other side of the room, instantly bursting his bubble of thought. Once again, Tsumugi sighed; he felt disappointed, unsure whether in himself or Tasuku or the both of them. Disappointed because of what, he will not disclose to anyone, not even himself. But still, for a second he thought to himself, how could someone so observant and stoic be so goddamn oblivious? But that thought immediately vanished once he completely processed what he just said. He found the hyacinths himself. And that meant—

"You know the difference between bluebells and hyacinths? Physically, I mean," Tsumugi questioned and made his way to Tasuku, who stood near the entrance/exit where two pots of hyacinths grew. Again, Tsumugi didn't mean to mock the other man but every other customer that ever walked in and saw the two flowers would say they're "basically the same thing", despite the differences being quite obvious. That's one of the many reasons why Tsumugi cherished Tasuku so much; he was always different and unique, in a positive way of course, and he was always careful with his words despite his oblivion to most of the florist's attempts to get closer.

"Of course I do. Hyacinths are like suzu bells at shrines. Bluebells are similar but they hang low, their heads facing the ground," Tasuku explained as Tsumugi slightly gaped at the amount of knowledge Tasuku had. But Tsumugi managed to quickly regain his composure and cleared his throat. He didn't want to admit it to himself but that was...somehow and somewhat attractive, if he's being completely honest with himself. Suzu bells. He never thought of them like that before but now that he mentioned them, hyacinths do look like them, somewhat. Nonetheless, he was determined to keep the conversation going.

"So who requested hyacinths?" Tsumugi asked again, feeling like a detective rather than a friend. But it wasn't as if Tasuku minded; any words that came out of Tsumugi's mouth would sound friendly or at least motherly to him. Tsumugi was always soft and tender — he was the type to be disappointed or angry when something is majorly, majorly bad. Tsumugi has the patience of a saint – hell, even more than that – and Tasuku has always been amazed by that. He may seem stoic from the outside but there's a lot of pent up anger inside that's begging to be left out once he's back at his tattoo parlor. But aside from anger, there was something else too.

"You," Tasuku responded, which caught Tsumugi way off guard. Tsumugi's ocean blue eyes widened and blood rushed to his cheeks, painting them a bright pink. He was caught off guard by his answer, of course, but his heart also throbbed at the way he said it; similar to how love confession in movies go, when the woman asks the man what he needs and the man goes "You". But instead of a man and a woman, there were two men. One's a florist who goes by the name Tsukioka Tsumugi and the other a tattoo artist named Takato Tasuku. But despite being both men and having such stark differences, there was some kind of tension in the air, at least that was what Tsumugi thought. As far as he's concerned, Tasuku was a bit unreadable.

"...Um, what do you mean?" Tsumugi bashfully asked and scratched the back of his non-itchy head but genuinely confused by Tasuku's answer. Even after 10 seconds of being uttered, the answer still lingered in the air and not to mention in Tsumugi's mind. It was a pretty good attempt, for such an oblivious man like him, but Tsumugi would be lying if he said he immediately got the message. He just had to hope it wasn't another oblivious answer to disappoint him yet again. But maybe he was so desperate and gullible, and that he was wishing for something that would be impossible in the first place. Still, he clung onto hope.

"You've told me countless times that they're your favourite flower. So since they're your favourite, I felt obligated to sketch 'em," Tasuku explained and Tsumugi was, in fact, not disappointed but he felt somewhat dissatisfied. But then he had an idea on how to keep the conversation going. Something contradictory. "You said I told you countless times but you still forgot and mistook them for bluebells," he retorted and offered a smile so wide, it seemed to reach his ears. Tasuku, as always, seemed unfazed by this statement and continued on sketching without a care in the world except for the florist standing beside him. Again, not disappointed but rather, I dissatisfied.

"That's because you said bluebells were your favourite too," Tasuku replied briefly and that seemed to shut Tsumugi up completely. Tsumugi had never thought he would be so forgetful of the words his own lips had uttered. Or...maybe he was falling into the tattooist's trap somehow. He'd believe in his words and think that he's oblivious while in fact, he reciprocated his feelings. But again, that was only wishful thinking and he had been doing a load of that ever since meeting Tasuku. Tsumugi kept quiet and only stared thoughtfully at Tasuku who kept sketching and sketching, his words dying before they even reach his trachea. Almost as if he felt defeated, which he wasn't but he thought he's done for the day.

"...What do they mean?" Tasuku asked out of nowhere, his intent gaze still pacing back on forth between the hyacinths and his sketchbook. The florist was confused at first but then he understood. The symbolism for the two flowers, of course. If he wasn't mistaken it should be— "Well...bluebells mean humility and gratitude. Hyacinths mean– well, blue ones at least, sincerity. But their Victorian meaning is engage in sport or play, which I think is fitting for you," Tsumugi answered and smiled gently at Tasuku, the smile unreturned. Tasuku shortly nodded.

"Have you always liked them? Or do you like them because they remind you of me?" Tasuku bluntly asked without missing a beat, which made Tsumugi cough loudly. Once again, the florist was caught way off guard and he could feel the blush creeping onto his cheeks once again. Tasuku was onto him, unexpectedly enough, and Tsumugi didn't know what to do about it. Yes, he liked both flowers because they do remind him of the tattoo artist but admitting that would falsely imply that there was a time he didn't like them despite his deep love for flowers of all kinds. Number two, that would heavily imply that he had been thinking of Tasuku way too much for him to be reminded of bluebells and hyacinths.

"...How did you know?" Tsumugi asked. Sure, he was a walking encyclopaedia of flowers but an encyclopedia is not the most readable book. Especially, and this sounded as if the florist was mocking the tattooist in his head, for a man like Tasuku. Again, Tsumugi wasn't underestimating his abilities and knowledge but rather he was just going by his gut feeling, especially because Tasuku was so unreadable. Perhaps he could be an encyclopedia too? Or was he a manuscripts filled with hieroglyphs lost to time? With pictures becoming letters and letters becoming pictures? Tasuku was more than a simple jigsaw puzzle but that was what made Tsumugi interested in him in the first place.

"I'm thinking that's a yes to both. You may not know this, Tsumugi, but you're actually kinda readable. I know you like me and I know you want to try getting a tattoo, which is why I'm here sketching these in the first place," Tasuku answered, debunking the fact that Tsumugi was an unreadable encyclopedia. In fact, maybe he's only a guidebook for children who has the desire to pursue gardening as a childhood hobby. Still, Tsumugi sighed and covered his face with his hands, more embarrassed than ecstatic at the fact that Tasuku knew all this time.

"Then why did you act so oblivious in the first place?" he questioned, his voice muffled and his mind unsure of what to say or ask anymore. Tasuku knew of his crush on him and that made him as joyful as a dog with two tails, but he went scarlet at the confirmation of him being an open book, being so readable. But it wasn't fair because Tasuku was unreadable; Tasuku had the higher ground. Then again, it could be an opposites attract sort of relationship and balanced — Tsumugi's readability and Tasuku's unreadability. Balanced as all things should be.

"I thought it would be fun to mess around with you since you're so pure and gullible. Sorry about that, hehe," Tasuku chuckled to which Tsumugi's heart replied by skipping a beat. His chuckle was dry and short but it wasn't mirthless. On the contrary, those two seconds of him chuckling might be the most mirthful two-second chuckle (or even laughter) Tsumugi had ever heard in his whole life. Right there in his flower shop stood a miracle personified and Tsumugi wasn't going to lost his chances with him, especially now that he knew that Tasuku knew of his feelings all along. Tsumugi stepped forward, but not too close as to not distract Tasuku too much, his eyes full of determination.

"W-Would you like to go on a date with me some other time?" Tsumugi asked, his heart full of courage and his mind running with future date plans; maybe they could go try out the coffee at the new café, perhaps they could stroll (or jog, since Tasuku's such a fitness nut) around in the park nearby since the flowers there were in full bloom, or mayhaps do it the classic way and go to the movies? On the outside he only seemed hell bent on getting Tasuku to agree but on the inside he was freaking out big time, especially because he wants their first date to be as perfect as it can possibly be.

Tasuku didn't answer but instead he turned to look at Tsumugi for a second and he leaned in until their foreheads were touching, dependent on each other. Tsumugi closed his eyes shut out of shyness and out of disbelief that this was happening. Actually, he wasn't sure what was happening. Because right after that, Tasuku's lips were right on his. His lips tasted of honey, specifically honey lip balm, and Tsumugi was willing to bet that he wore it because he knew this was coming. Oh, how Tsumugi wished Tasuku was more readable. He could've at least mentally prepare himself for this moment. And because he wasn't prepared, he almost lost consciousness and his face was burning red as if it was lit on fire.

Tsumugi swore they kissed for hours on end but it turned out to only be a few seconds. He was prepared to be disappointed when their lips part but instead, he was blessed with a blushing Tasuku who was just as red as he was. The both of them were grinning, content, but Tsumugi was sure he was still more embarrassed than happy. He looked at Tasuku in awe of his facial features now that they're literally closer. He has somewhat thin green-black eyebrows, fierce purple irises that reminded him of the tips of hyacinths, a perfectly sculpted sharp nose and, of course, his full lips that made it so hard to resist. But he resisted either way; he wanted the kisses to only be for special occasions. But he wasn't sure if that was what Tasuku wanted too.

"Is that good enough of an answer for you?" Tasuku slyly quizzed the other man and flashed a devilish grin which nearly made Tsumugi faint. Tsumugi furiously nodded as if his life depended on it and stepped back to lean on the counter. He thanked God that nobody came in and walked in on them because who knows what would've happened. Tasuku resumed sketching the hyacinths as if nothing ever happened — but Tsumugi liked that. He didn't mind whatever Tasuku wants to do there, at his flower shop with him, because now he knows. Now they know. And the florist couldn't hoped for a better day than this.

But then he had an idea. He raced to the back of the flower shop, leaving a dumbfounded Tasuku to his own devices. Tsumugi searched among the clutter of pots of flowers that were all personal ones — ones that were not for sale and definitely not for the eyes of the customers. But he made an exception for Tasuku; because Tasuku wasn't just a customer. Hell, he was never a customer, he only regularly visited to sketch images of the flowers displayed and depart for his tattoo parlor, to fulfill whatever requests and to satisfy whatever clients were dumped there.

Once he found the perfect one, Tsumugi rushed back to the front and extended the pot to Tasuku. "Here. You probably don't want a whole bouquet of them and bluebells so...take it," Tsumugi held out a lone pot of hyacinth and expected Tasuku to signal him to put it on the ground. But Tasuku put his sketchbook aside and grabbed the pot with his hands, gazing at it intently. And then he finally smiled a smile so warm, the sun was probably shaking his head in embarrassment and shame. Tasuku glanced at Tsumugi, the warm smile still in tact.

"Thanks. I love you," Tasuku confessed and Tsumugi finally stumbled to the ground. He couldn't handle it — how was someone so oblivious be so...smooth at the same time? But then he recalled that he had acted oblivious for the sake of teasing him and that made him want to stay on the tiles of the shop for all of eternity. Today was such an embarrassing day but the florist wouldn't have it any other way. Tasuku kneeled down to help him stand up again but Tsumugi reflexively sat up himself and pushed his lips against the other's. Looked like the "kisses are only for special occasions" plan went right down the drain.

And then the bell at the entrance/exit rung, ending their kiss awfully quick. Both of the men stood up straight as to not seem suspicious. It turned out to be one of Tasuku's coworkers at the tattoo parlor and he was demanding Tasuku to be back at the job. Tasuku sighed but was glad enough that they didn't catch him and Tsumugi in the act. Tasuku only nodded as his coworker slammed the door shut, to which Tsumugi flinched out of discomfort and because of their poor manners.

"Let's meet up tomorrow at the café down the street. 12PM sharp. I'll treat you to some lunch, okay?" Tasuku whispered to Tsumugi and the he nodded obediently. Tasuku smiled (today might've been the day he's smiled the most) and walked away casually while making a grab for his gift of a pot of hyacinth, to commemorate the day their true and honest feelings were conveyed. The bell rung again as Tasuku exited and Tsumugi tried not to faint yet again. What a magical day it was. Not only was he able to "tell" Tasuku, his feelings were actually reciprocated. Tsumugi was positive he was into women...but maybe he likes both? He shouldn't assume, was his conclusion.

But then he felt anxiety burning in his chest — what if all of this was just a extremely vivid dream? He pinched himself in multiple spots; his cheek hurt the most. It wasn't a dream. He really got through to Tasuku, and his feelings were mutual. They're going on a date tomorrow at the café down the street, which was coincidentally one of his favourite cafés. But if only he got to say those three (four?) words again, but no, he had to be so embarrassed he fell to the ground. He guessed you could say that he fell for him?

...Tsumugi wasn't one with the best sense of humour.

He glanced at the hyacinths, ever so blue and violet, as if the colour of Tasuku's eyes were raised up its brightness and contrast. Tsumugi smiled to himself and approached them, holding them tenderly and dearly in his hands. He silently thanked them, for whatever reason, but he felt the need to thank them. He did the same for the bluebells. He thanked them endlessly, for a reason even unknown to himself. Before he could bore himself by waiting for more customers to come in, he spotted the petal of a hyacinth on the ground near the bluebells. He chuckled; it must've fallen off Tasuku's pot of it.

He picked it up and stored it in his pocket. But even then, he could see a trail of them (not literally, of course) lead outside the door and to him, and they continue to build a trail that'll lead back to him, wherever he goes, unbothered by the wind blowing furiously outside. It was about to rain but that trail of stray hyacinth petals aren't going away anytime soon. They were bonded, albeit he didn't know whether it was forevermore, but what's important was they were together. Flowers and tattoos cast aside. Readability and unreadability left astray. And whether it be hyacinths or bluebells,

their trails of blueish petals will always lead back to each other.

[kamwritesshit]

What the Arrow Pierced

A Greek Mythology AU this time, heavily inspired by the Tragic Orion event story in Revue Starlight Re:Live, with Zeus!Sakyo, Apollo!Muku, Artemis!Juza and Orion!Banri.

Enjoy.

Word count: 4,243 words

"Oh Juchan, you always worry me, you know?"

"You're worried 24/7."

The two cousins conversed as Muku, the God of healing and medicine tended to Juza's, the God of the Moon and archery, wounds. Even with Muku's constant worrying, the ruler of the Moon rarely got hurt from his hunting hours. Today was one of those rare days where Muku's worrying and talent paid off. Muku only sighed at the nonchalant response his cousin gave and offered a tired smile, to show he wasn't mad but rather exasperated yet glad with his attitude, a sign he hasn't changed for the worst for a few centuries now. And he hoped it continue the same as always until the day they are to surrender to death, because as strong as the Gods are, the Grim Reaper will reap what others have sowed.

"And...there," the God of healing concluded as he finished treating to the wound on his cousin's cheek which grazed thorns as sharp as Sakyo's, Juza's all-knowing and powerful father, gaze. Sakyo, God of lightning and creator of their current world, was seldom present in the same room as his son, abandoning him for the sake of the world beneath him. It wasn't as if he didn't love him; humanity demanded his attention more than his son ever did and so they were his priority. Juza never minded, fully acknowledging his father's duty as the all-powerful, but Muku was still brought to his palace to accompany him and live under the same roof as him.

"...Thanks. Sorry for making you worry. Again," Juza replied and attempted a smile, to which Muku responded with a smile back. He never really felt sorry for spending most hours of his day hunting and frolicking in the woods, surrounded by all sorts of game to be gained and eaten at home; deers, wild rabbits, he could go on forever. But he was clumsy today. Too, too clumsy. But he couldn't blame himself. There was a distraction, one he couldn't possibly be rid of, as much as he hated to admit it. His mind flashed back to the fateful encounter, seemingly unable to completely remove the memory.

~

"Who're you? What's your deal here?" He asked the stranger then, but he had a feeling who they were. They stepped forward with a stupidly devilish grin that was pure irony to how godlike they looked. Blonde hair that mirrored their smooth skin, eyes as blue as the delphiniums in his palace garden, muscular physique men could only dream of — even then, Juza only desired for his grin to be wiped off his face. Perhaps a simple punch could get them to leave but they didn't seem like the type to back down easily in a fight, which was why he scowled. From his observation of this stranger, he concluded that they could only be one being, and Juza didn't even like his own conclusion.

"The name's Banri. You've probably heard of me," he taunted and that dumb, dumb grin was still on his face. Juza only wanted him to go away and leave him alone to hunt for some wild hog, a treat for both Muku and him for today's dinner. As if to taunt him more, Banri sat down on an enormous log near Juza and looked straight at the expansive forest right in front of the both of them, still waiting for either to make a move. It was oddly silent, as if the stomping of Banri, the descendant of the Titans, demanded nothing but quiet from the forest. The inhabitants of the woods were accustomed to seeing Juza hunt and they weren't to hesitate on running, even if they do like him to some degree.

"You didn't answer my second question. What the hell's your deal here?" Juza threateningly questioned the other man and continued to sharpen his next arrow, his sights now on a wild hog he saw was strolling without a care in the world. He wanted to scream at him to leave, leave, leave but, unlike his father, he made sure patience was a trait that could be inherited. Still, that didn't mean his blood was boiling and was on the way to reach 100°C. 'You said "What's your deal here?", I don't remember any "the hell's in your question,' but he kept that to himself as to not make Juza lose his temper. He cared THAT much, at the very least.

"I wanted to see you. They were saying you're the best archer in the land and all that. And I came here to challenge you," Banri answered quite honestly, to Juza's surprise. Still, how dare he challenge a God when he was a mere Titan descendant, who lost the battles with Juza's father centuries ago? To engage in a so-called challenge would only be a waste of time, as Banri would never measure up to him. Besides, does he even know he is God of the Moon and of archery? He'd be beaten in milliseconds. But Juza recalled the conclusion he had made: Banri is the type of fool who'd never back down from a fight. Or a sore loser, as Juza liked to call them.

"I don't want anything to do with a womaniser like you. Get lost," he shooed him away once again but that only made him inch closer. He laughed at the word "womaniser" and clutched his stomach, debunking the phrase "laughter is the best medicine" because all that laughter only hurt him more. Juza felt heat surging, increasingly becoming unable to keep all the anger and irritation deep inside. Banri's laughter chased the woodland creatures away and the arrow in his hand almost split into two. Not that Banri would've cared nor noticed.

"Womaniser? Buddy, I swing both ways. Which is partially why I'm here," he teased and Juza couldn't take it anymore. The arrow in his hand split into two but Banri seemed to be getting more excited. Juza stood up and gazed into the greenery that enveloped his whole view and perspective. He took deep breaths and let the broken arrow fall to the ground as he weaved another out of his father's light, which was gifted to him for one of his many, many birthdays. Banri watched in awe of the God's power; but in his head, he was still somehow superior, being of Titan descent even if they lost. But they lost against the Gods — even getting into battle with them was no easy feat.

"...Fine. But I doubt you can keep up with me. Even if you can, there's no guarantee I'll get along with you," Juza finally gave in and Banri happily cheered as the first step of his plan resulted in victor. He took out his own bow and arrow and readied himself. Juza watched stoically, not all that impressed with whatever he was presenting. Still, he was slightly impressed a fool like him could annoy him enough to the point where he'd give in. Or there was a possibility that Juza longed for a partner to hunt with, whether platonic or romantic, as the woods could get quiet at times.

...No, there's no way.

They began to hunt and needless to say, Juza was more than impressed with the other's archery skills. Sure, he wasn't as good as he is but he never saw someone who could catch up to him as much as the foolish Titan descendant did. Sometimes, he couldn't help but watch in awe, jaw slightly ajar and eyes widened by a millimeter. Which was most likely the reason why he got a few scratches in the first place. He hated it so damn much. How that fool was the center of his attention for a good few minutes, how he was entranced by his agility and how he wanted to be rid of that stupid, stupid grin. Juza hoped that his skills would wipe the grin off his jester face but he only seemed to beam more and more. But, he guiltily admitted to himself, it was a nice change of pace.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted Banri to be back again tomorrow.

~

"Juchan~. Are you okay? Do you have something on your mind?"

His cousin's soft tone snapped him back to reality. Muku's expression only screamed of confusion and genuine confusion as to what caused his dear cousin to space out. Juza wasn't one to get lost in his thoughts when accompanied by anyone or anything — he hates the thought of leaving one in utter and complete silence as he delved deep into his own universe. But he couldn't have done anything to prevent this. And he hated that fact so much. He both hated and loved today. Oh, how he wished that Banri fool wasn't such a confusing one. He was the type you both love and hate at the same time. Somehow, though, Juza managed to find his voice and speak.

"No, it's nothing. Don't worry about me," Juza assured him and offered a smile, one that complimented his appearance this time. Muku had a feeling that his concerns were not answered genuinely and completely so he had to search for an answer of his own. He still questioned his cousin with his innocent sky blue eyes Sakyo would always marvel at, as if the sky he conquers was shoved into two tiny orbs. Juza tried not to sweat as Muku searched for the real answers and gulped. He was rarely intimidated but the intense gaze Muku held was rarer and for that he was stunned right where he sat, on the smooth marble tiles of the palace.

"Or...are you thinking about somebody? Did you finally found your true love?!" Muku yelled in excitement as his eyes lit up, filled with genuine happiness and pride for his darling cousin. Juza didn't have the chance to elaborate as Muku was too busy being proud and gushing at the idea of the so-called unfeeling God of archery falling in love with somebody, regardless of their identity and reputation or rank. Juza was surprised to find his cheeks were tinted red and to find that Banri flashed for a second on his mind. No, he was only amazed that a mortal could keep up with him in the woods just now, it isn't anything beyond that. Besides, love at first encounter doesn't exist, and his father made sure that was fact.

But time seemed to prove him wrong.

☽

"Wow, he's actually late..."

Banri mumbled under his breath as he checked his watch and impatiently tapped his right foot, creating a beat no ant could resist the urge to dance to. Juza was always punctual, as the trait was probably beaten into him as a child (or whatever the god equivalent of it is), so for him to be this late both intrigued and slightly angered the blonde. Plus, he wasn't the only one who was waiting; the whole forest was stomping their feet impatiently, almost creating a catchy tune but Banri was pretty sure every inhabitant was tone deaf. He only sighed and searched his surroundings for any sign of his lover.

Yes, his lover. Banri would've never guessed that Juza reciprocated his feelings, considering how stoic he is and how much of a "tsundere", as humanity calls it, he can be. Nevertheless, Banri was ecstatic to know that the feeling's mutual, even if they have to sneak around and keep it a secret. He didn't mind, as long as he was with Juza, he was content. He had to admit to himself, he was initially interested in the God of archery because of his skills thereof and, he unashamedly admitted this, he was very attractive. Banri thought he'd have a fling with him, just like he had done with many others, but somehow he got attached. It's most likely due to how enchanting he was whenever he strikes his targets and how he absentmindedly smiles every time he lands a good hit.

"Sorry I was late. My dad was back after a while," Juza apologised and bursted Banri's bubble of thoughts. Banri immediately froze at what he was witnessing; Juza with his hair down, his bangs hanging down similar to how palm tree leaves are dragged down by gravity, most likely a result of rushing all the way here as to not make him wait any longer. And because of that, Banri appreciated the sentiment, but he was too busy admiring how so, so attractive his lover looked with his hair down like that. He tried not to blush or feel inferior, because he acknowledges his beauty, but Juza stole the spotlight for once. Banri cleared his throat in an attempt to dispose of his obvious thirst.

"You should be sorry. Anyway, c'mon, I heard that it's elk season~," he spoke as to not seem too soft, even though he did grew quite affectionate the longer he's with him. He was already a step ahead and he could feel the wind through his hair, a friendly reminder that he was also here to hunt and not to tease Juza all day until he leaves out of embarrassment. Again, something he had done with his flings for a night of passion, but done with Moon God to bond and grow love. Banri thought soulmates were a myth and that lead him to frolic with many but the thought of living without Juza made him feel ill. His old self would glance at how lovestruck he was with Juza and thunk it as pathetic but he was dead, an arrow struck right in his heart.

Juza attempted to get a headstart but was halted by a strong grip on the neck of his robe and so he glanced behind him to see who dared stop him from doing what he does and loves best. To his surprise, Muku stood there with the angriest expression Juza has ever seen on his angelic face and it scared him a little. It was difficult to disappoint or anger Muku; he was one of the most patient beings Juza knew and to see him grimace so much made him feel wretched. The guilt dug a hole in his chest and yet he felt like rebelling — he already knew why his pure-of-heart cousin was here.

"What are you doing with that filthy Titan?! I was so happy to know that you've found somebody to love, but you fell in love with a monster!" Muku shouted and Juza was shook at how angry he sounded. Then again, he's still a cousin of his and that meant he has the capacity to be threatening and imposing. Juza wanted to run then and there as Banri was already gone, oh-so-deep in the woods. Juza envied Banri somewhat, of his carefree nature and of his ancestors who couldn't see what he was up to as easily as the Gods could. Plus, Banri was the one to have thawed his frozen heart and made him not hesitate to feel so, so many feelings.

"I never told you to be happy for me. Besides, Banri is Banri. He's nothing like his ancestors!" Juza found himself defending his lover, the black hole of guilt digging deeper into his chest at every word he screamed at his cousin. He didn't want to, knowing that Muku was soft-hearted as if his heart was made out of clouds, but now it's as if his heart was armoured and heavily guarded. Juza even had the urge to slap him into oblivion, but that was too much, he thought. "Your hunting skills have been worse lately too, and it's all due to that filth personified!" Muku scolded him again and Juza was filled with much more rage at such a ridiculous thing to ridicule.

"I didn't get worse, he was the one who got better and better. I know him well, Muku, and I know he is sincere and genuine with me. I know of his breathing when he readies himself for hunting, I know of his soft smile when he was sincerely happy, I know of his everything and I love each and every thing about him. The war between my father and the Titans has nothing to do with us," Juza defended himself again. And as if there wasn't any better timing, Banri stumbled right out of one of the bushes and rolled to the ground, landing near their feet. Juza instantly kneeled down to check up on his condition, knowing he also rarely got hurt from their hunting sessions (though he still gets hurt more than Juza).

"Why weren't you..." Banri mumbled and attempted to get up but he let himself drop into Juza's arms at the sight of a furious Muku. Their secret was no longer one; the whole kingdom will surely hear of this. Banri, descendant of the Titans, the supposed "womaniser", had somehow pierced Juza's heart that was supposedly made of iron. Humanity will hear of it, the Titans will hear of it and of course, the Gods will hear of it. And both of them will be punished. Banri didn't mind being punished for pursuing his one true love but the thought of Juza suffering angered and saddened him greatly.

"So you're Banri. You know what? I'll give you a chance to save yourself, Banri. You either leave this land without a trace and do not keep in touch with Juza or you'll die by my hands or Sakyo's wrath. Choose wisely," Muku bargained, but Banri seemed to grow angrier. A stroke of anger flashed for a second in his eyes; Muku was oblivious to it but Juza knew what it meant. Juza glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed worryingly and his lips were in a sad frown. Banri attempted and struggled against Juza's tight grip, no longer able to fight the need to punch the God of healing, despite the angelic and almost brotherly look he held. Unable to break out of his lover's embrace, Banri scoffed.

"I'd rather die, thanks. But in return, you keep Juza alive. Don't lay even lay a single finger on him, got it?" Banri barked as Juza tried to shush him in desperation, knowing full well whatever words that will come of out of his mouth will put himself danger at the very, very least, although Juza had no doubt that Banri'll be executed and in the most painful way possible, even to Gods alike. He doesn't deserve that. Both of them don't deserve such pain and agony. Sakyo knew no mercy and Juza used to wish he was the same. But if it weren't for the spite-driven patience and compassion, he would've never got to love or even met his true love.

"How dare you threaten a God! This is why you filthy Titans are of the lowest of lowly beings! I am the one who decides what happens to Juza, whether you like it or not. But it seems you have made your choice. Very well then!" Muku grew more furious, somehow. The woods fell silent and the air was stagnant, the tension rising above the stratosphere. As Muku procured a bow and arrow out of Sakyo's lighting, the couple widened their eyes at what they were witnessing. "What...?" was the only word Juza could utter at that moment. He was the God of archery — why does Muku have the ability to weave a bow and arrow of thunder of his own?

"Sakyo said I was destined to be not only God of healing but also of archery. But I didn't want to take that away from you, Juchan, I didn't. I cared for you, worried about you 24/7 as you said, but this is how you repay both me and your father. Well, I hope all that time wasted in the woods was worth this moment," Muku confessed, eyes filled with such melancholy and disappointment, it was almost uncharacteristic. But Juza recalled; Muku was also a God, and of his lineage no less, so it was no wonder how he could have looked so menacing and malicious. Juza got up and stood in front of Banri.

"I won't let you have him!" Juza howled but Muku seemed unfazed. Banri took hold of Juza's left leg but he begged for him to let go. As the couple struggled against each other, Muku drew his bow, as graceful as a swan on a spring day. He let go and the arrow, expectedly enough, pierced Banri right in the heart. Banri looked down at himself as his soul was slowly leaving, departing for a place to belong in the sky above their heads. Juza kneeled down again, this time out of breath at the sight of the arrow in his lover's chest, his arms flailing in desperation to save him.

"You can't save him, Juchan. You're lucky he's only made into a star, instead of his soul being sent into the underworld. And be grateful you aren't being sent anywhere yourself, as Sakyo and I still somewhat and somehow believe that you still have the brains to repeat the same foolish mistake. From now on, he'll be a part of Rigel, but both Sakyo and I will make sure you won't ever have to lay your eyes on him, whatever form he may be in, ever again!" Muku called out and slowly but surely, Banri was fading into stardust. Juza hated how he couldn't do anything but hold him in his arms. Juza choked out a sob, something he thought he wasn't capable of until today.

"Cry all you want but I'm still gonna turn into a star, y'know," Banri tried to lighten up the mood but tears still slowly streamed down Juza's cheek, which Banri now caressed for the last time before leaving. Juza's eyes went blurry even after one or two tears and he could barely see his surroundings. But that didn't matter when all he could see was Banri and only Banri. His beloved, his hunting and archery partner, his best friend, the shadow to his Moon, his sky and land and ocean and whatever lies beyond the world where their feet are planted, albeit his lover being a mere Titan descendant.

Juza kissed Banri with all the might left in him, which wasn't a lot but it was enough to say goodbye and to respond to his lighthearted farewell. Even as his lips slowly faded, the couple clung onto each other and hoped they will never have to let go. But after a few moments, Juza stumbled into the dirt and Banri was among the stars in the night sky, but forever hidden to his lover's eyes, naked or not. Juza closed his eyes tight and wished for the Earth to bury him deep, deep under, because he might as well be dead than alive. He was overwhelmed by all these feelings. And he regretted not saying it earlier, a result of his naivety and, he had to admit, his "tsundere-ness".

"...I love you. I really do. Forever and always. Thank you for everything."

☽

He was looking up at the starry night sky again. But this night was quite special — a September night, specifically the 9th. His lover's birthday. He couldn't care less about the preparations for his birthday the whole palace was rioting about. 18 days felt like 18 centuries either way. He stole some cake from the kitchen for him to snack on as he read every constellation and searched for Rigel despite the punishment he was given a year ago. He still hoped he could see him just once despite the events that had occured and the punishments he'd endured and still enduring. And he'll never stop hoping. Until he saw a familiar glint and glimmer in the starry canvas above him.

There he was. Banri himself. In Rigel, but Juza could've sworn he heard his cousin and father renamed him to Orion, which he admits is a very beautiful name. Orion. Even then, he preferred Banri. Banri is engraved into his mind and it became a heavenly name to him. Sure, his lover was no angel or even a kind mortal but he sure was an interesting (and quite attractive) specimen. He mocked him but out of love, he planted kisses on his cheek fully knowing Juza was always unready for kisses on the lips. His skills managed to hypnotise Juza every time and that memory eventually lead to painful scene Juza wished he never had to witness. Still, he got to say his farewells and kiss his lover like one would normally do.

"Ori...Banri. I wish I never met you. Damn life-changer," Juza mocked lovingly and smiled to hinself, as if Banri really could see and respond to his taunts. But what if he could see? What if he was always watching from above, even if he was invisible to Juza? Maybe his twinkling and shimmering was just another way to convey his feelings, and Juza wholeheartedly accepted them. Juza thanked whatever deity or miracle (because it surely wouldn't be his father) for letting him see him again despite him most likely undeserving of it, as he quietly munched on his cake. And he was surprisingly grateful that, out of everyone that has ever lived on his father's Earth, Banri's arrow was the one who pierced his heart.

Metaphorically, of course.

[kamwritesshit]

A Prick of Fate

I've finally written something after a while.

This is my take on the Soulmate AU. The pairing is a surprise. Enjoy.

Word count: 4,000 words

Warning: Contains uncensored swearing and mentions of death

He's found his soulmate.

At least, he thought so. Why would he, someone seemingly soulless and blank, have a soulmate in the first place? His hand hovered over the paper airplane but his eyelids begged to drop and drag him to dreamland. Still, he forced his eyes to adjust to the view of the eerily white minuscule aircraft. He blinked a few times, unsure out of exhaustion or uncertainty of the item in front of him. He forced himself to sit and pick it up. The paper pricked his fingers and he retreated as the airplane was dropped onto the comforter, landing gracefully. It looked almost revoking.

He took a sharp intake of breath at the pain and he watched as an unfamiliar name carve itself into his skin. He tried not to gasp at the sight of blood, especially how red it was and how it was glistening despite the dim lighting. He resisted the urge to scream when the name was almost finished writing itself, as the pain increased and increased. He bit on his lip but made sure it didn't bleed. Wouldn't want to add on the extreme he was already experiencing. He might as well be giving birth to a child, albeit he has no right to say or even think that considering, well, he's a biological man.

Arisugawa Homare, it wrote. What a stupidly long name, was his intial thought. Who was this girl and why was he assigned to her? Actually, he shouldn't immediately assume it's a girl. Let him rephrase that: who was this person and why was he assigned to them? Couldn't they have thrown the stupid paper airplane some time later in life? He hoped, whoever they are, felt the pain of his name being carved into them for all of eternity. Though, he thought, maybe this was bound to happen either way, and he'd endure the same pain he suffered before. Still, he gritted his teeth at the lingering pain.

"...Arisugawa...Homare..." he mumbled through his gritted teeth. He didn't know what to feel, most likely because of the surprisingly overwhelming pain. Was he really angry? Or was he somewhat relieved that this happened sooner than he thought it'd happen? He only managed a deep sigh as to not upset himself with a pained gasp or even a cry. He looked at the fated spindle which pricked his fingers. There it sat, still as ever, appearing innocent and harmless when it was the one that shot a thousand bullets into him. Well, mostly his right hand and arm, but he swore he felt the anxiety pound in his heart.

After an hour or so, finally, the pain was completely gone. His breathing slowed to its usual speed (not that he noticed it sped up in the first place) and he noticed that his heart had calmed down. He lied down again and daren't touch that...thing once again. Just as he was about to get comfortable, his whole body tingled and he felt insanely hot. Is this actually the aftereffects of the discovery of your soulmate? Sweat dripped from his forehead and he started to breathe heavily again. This amount of pain — as much as he'd hate to admit it, he didn't like it one bit. And he was actually hurting. He immediately sprang up and in the blink of an eye, he was out the door.

He needed to see the doctor. He doubted that these signs were typical for someone who recently discovered who their soulmate is and so he must go, pathetically enough. He ran in the shadows, a skill he honed god-knows-when and hid himself from the public eye. Surprisingly enough, the town was hustling and bustling, even at midnight when even the skyscrapers should be asleep. Nonetheless, he raced through the crowd, breathing heavily to restrict himself from screaming. The pain was surging, pumping, bleeding in him now. It hurt. A lot. More than he ever thought it would. He could not stress this to his own mind and body enough. To his surprise, the running didn't made it any worse. At least something was in his favour.

He ran and ran, searching for a clinic, so he could at least tumble down and beg for help, though he's quite untalented at the latter, considering he has been living by himself all this while and hasn't died yet. The former, however, was how he has been living his life. Constantly tumbling down onto his bed to sleep, sleep, and sleep. On some days, he's just tumble onto the cold hard tiles of his bathroom from exhaustion. The fact that he managed to land a job at the local convenience store is shocking enough to both him and his peers. He had heard piercing insults being whispered among the staff – "He's so lazy." "He doesn't even like to smile." "If he wants to sleep all the time then this isn't the fucking place." – but he doesn't care. At least, he pretends to.

Finally, after a few minutes of unconfined sprinting (albeit it felt like hours), he found one and thanked whatever deity watching over him for its deserted surroundings and seemingly lonesome interior. He walked in and sat down quickly, as he was already swaying by the time his first planted his foot on the smooth tiles of the establishment. He didn't bother opening his eyes as his head was starting to spin. Great. The one thing he thought was to his advantage turned out to eat at him in the end. Should've stole a bike, at least. He heaved and heaved, he felt like his lungs were going to burst. He couldn't even stand up to ask for some assistance regarding his situation.

"Oh dear. Can somebody lend a hand, please? He's quite out of sorts," he heard a voice call out, but not to him. He attempted to open his eyes then to see whoever it was that took notice of his presence and, of course, his pain. But he found it difficult as he curled up even more in his seat, similar to that of a cat asleep. Except a cat being asleep is no way in any pain unlike what he was experiencing. He liked that about cats; they never have to experience this excruciating pain humans have to go through. Or, for some humans, the pain they'd feel knowing that they'll never go through it. He felt lightheaded then, as if he waddling through dreamlamd when wide awake. He never felt that before, seeming as he's quite the heavy drinker.

He felt himself being lifted off his cosy seat and onto a stretcher of some sorts — he knew for, again, it was another skill honed without memory of why and when. He flinched, flinched and flinched, thinking that this may be how he ends. But then he recalled; no one has ever died from being pricked by the fated airplane. Even so, he thought he could set a world record. First man to ever die by pricking his fingers on the paper airplane of his fated soulmate. It sounded flashy enough for people to believe and gossip about, and maybe there was a chance for him to be known for the right reasons in this world.

His world was spinning, spinning, spinning, even with his eyes tightly shut and still. He felt the world beneath him rattle and shake, like an earthquake the average child would be frightened of. Too bad he was the...not-so-average adult. He lurked in the shadows, slept 24/7 if work wasn't there to interrupt, received the paper airplane of destiny and slightly killing himself bit by bit in the process of attempting to cradle it in his hands. He still thought he deserves a world record. He tried blinking but it was to no avail. Not only did the blinding lights made him want to shut the world out but the pain. It's still there and it wants to kill, kill, kill. At least, he assumed so.

"Don't worry, we'll..." he had heard initially, but the rest of their words fell on his deaf ears. He saw colours spiral around in the darkness he was witnessing but there was no sound; he expected for the colours to crackle and explode, like fireworks do at summer festivals. Summer festivals. He hasn't been to one yet. Mostly because he doesn't see the point in going. It's like any other event and celebration. Pointless and fleeting. He wished oh-so-much that the pain was the latter. Fleeting. But it seemed as if his body disagreed. It wanted to hurt itself, for whatever reason, not help him find his soulmate like its original purpose was.

He passed out, million sharp eyes on him, yet none could penetrate his thoughts or his pain.

⛌

"Hey, can you hear me?"

He had heard, which should answer their question already but unfortunately, he has to answer since they wouldn't know that, considering they weren't...him. The lights were on full brightness as usual and they threatened to knock him back to sleep as they shone and stabbed his eyelids with their rays of filtered light. Still, he forced himself to at least attempt to open his eyes at the strangely calm voice of whoever's calling out to him, which would probably a doctor or nurse. He blinked, blinked, blinked; and then he was looking straight at a bar of light — the typical LED. But he didn't care about that. It was blinding, thus it was bad.

"You're awake. Good. You're lucky that someone was there to call for our help. Or who knows what might've happened," someone else's voice piped up pointingly at him and he could feel his usual irritation with most human beings awakening. Still, he nodded slowly, his restless body refusing to cooperate with him. He began to sit up but a sharp pain wounded him in his chest and it forced him back down, almost knocking him out again. The two whom he interacted with rush over to check up on him and make sure he doesn't accidentally kills himself. He started coughing and swore he could see a bit of blood spill over the bed(?).

"Oi, stay still! You're still in bad condition, we just managed to lessen the pain for you," the man, he saw now, scolded and sighed. He obeyed and it's as if he has turned to stone. He tried not to let his eyelids fall and drag him into dreamland once again, but he thought again; preventing himself from doing had lead him here in the first place. So maybe he should let them shut the whole world out and venture his own for a few hours. At least he can ignore the pain and, if he were to die, he'd spend his last moments in his beloved little universe.

He stayed still for what felt like hours, when really it was a few minutes. Still, he felt...reinvigorated somehow. Born anew. He felt the pain lessen and lessen and lessen, to the point where he had forgotten how pain feels. He hoped the process didn't lead to a much, much more painful punishment and it didn't. Just like that, the pain was gone. Huh, he wondered. He shouldn't have underestimated the authority clinic doctors have. He waited a few minutes to open his eyes (he realised he has been shutting them this whole time — must be out of habit) and when he does, nothing seemed to be going wrong for once. He saw the light but it wasn't as blinding as it was before. He was strong enough to sit up and not have pain pin him to the bed again and again.

"I assume you're okay now," the lady, he now saw, offered a smile. He didn't know how to do that but he attempted at the very least, as thanks for saving his life. Actually, was his soul on the verge of death in the first place? It must've been, considering how much it hurt. But then again, he doesn't really know how a near-death pain feels like. He slightly shivered at the thought of a pain more agonising than what he had experienced minutes ago. He could see that the lady was trying not to frown and bring his mood down than it already was. He heard footsteps and fully expected the man to walk in and scold him again but it turned out to be another person, who seemed much calmer than the man or the lady.

They didn't pay attention to him at first so he took the time to fully observe and read them. They had silky and long platinum hair, which almost matched their long-fingers hands which looked smoother than a mirror. They had glassy yellow eyes that were almost cat-like, though the glasses seem to be surpressing that fact to make them look less intimidating. He couldn't see what his name tag read but it started with "Yuki". Before he could stare at them more, the person strutted over to him and sat down on a chair as their eyes landed gently on their patient. He wondered if this doctor thought what everyone thought of him; erratic, lazy, depressed, and much, much more.

"Good morning. My name is Yukishiro Azuma, as you can see here. It seems like you're all fine and dandy now, aren't you?" they spoke (revealing to be a 'he') oh-so-softly and smiled, seeming much more feminine than the lady. But he wasn't one to judge. They all saved his life and that's all that matters. He nodded in response; he really liked how calming this man was and he didn't want to ruin it for the both of them. But sadly enough, Yukishiro Azuma wasn't Arisugawa Homare. He almost forgot about that name, although it was one of the things that brought so much pain in the first place.

"Fufufu, you're quite obedient, aren't you? Don't worry, you weren't the first to stumble into our doors like that. We have more than enough experience," Dr. Yukishiro elaborated and he felt somewhat sad he couldn't snatch the world record he kept daydreaming about. Nevertheless, he continued to nod as a response and hope it conveyed 'Thank you so much for saving my life, can I go home now?' as strongly as possible. Dr. Yukishiro chuckled and stood up to walk away, marking the end of their conversation. But before he disappeared, he dropped one last line.

"There's someone who wants to see you. And I think you might want to see them too," he said and then he was gone. He was left dumbfounded who would want to meet him at such an hour? Actually, what time was it anyway? The doctor said good morning so it must be morning. He got off from his bed and walked out of the room, escorted by the lady from before (Tachibana Izumi, the name tag read). His eyes immediately landed on the only other patron there, and they seemed to be asleep, with their head knocked backwards and leaning against the wall. He could feel the chill of the walls just by looking at them being sound asleep.

He walked slowly towards them, as he didn't want to seem too excited for they were his initial saviour. As he slowly inched closer, he took notice of their...unique haircut and colour. He also noticed the quite formal attire they donned, making them seem like a teacher or professor of sorts. He sat down beside them, unsure of whether he should wake them up as they were sleeping so peacefully. He always felt angry and annoyed whenever his neighbours would wake him up in the middle of a deep, deep sleep and thought they wouldn't want the same thing. He tried not to lean on their shoulder from the usual drowsiness that was coming back to him. But that dispersed quickly when he saw what was written on their arm.

Mikage Hisoka, it read. He could feel the anger surging through him now and the adrenaline he initially felt from running across yards and yards of road tar pulse back into rhythm. Luckily enough the pain wasn't there to haunt him for the millionth time for the last few hours. He placed his hands gently on their shoulders and he slowly inched his way up. Up, up, and up until...

"What the hell are you doing? Get your hands off him!"

The man from before. Mikage sighed and he let his hands fall limply to his sides. A shame, really. He might not remember how and why he knows how to do it but what he does remember is how to do it swiftly, without a trace left behind, but it seemed as if that skill was slowly fading away from memory. Or perhaps, it was something else, considering the person he tried to choke was his soulmate, not just any other person. His soulmate. The person he'll be forever bonded to. He cringed at the thought of it and slightly shivered, remembering the pain he felt because of this stupid soulmate thing in the first place.

"Whether you like it or not, he's your soulmate. You can't do jack shit about that," the man barked – Furuichi Sakyo, the name tag screamed – and approached him. Furuichi (Doctor? Nurse? Something in between?) gripped Mikage's shirt, a big portion of it in his balled fist, and stared daggers into his eyes. Too bad for him though, his eyes were already too blinded by the LEDs to be blinded by a few metaphorical daggers. He didn't feel threatened, no, not at all. Somehow, he was used to this. He only blinked a few times and Furuichi let go furiously before strutting back into the abyss that was the clinic. To his dismay, the man beside him had woken up, stretching his arms and yawning very loudly.

The man – actually, Arisugawa Homare – looked to him and smiled radiantly, as if he took the sun and shoved it into every fibre of his lips and possibly being. Mikage was unsure if he liked it or not. That smile and the eccentric aura and vibe he was giving off. He saved his life but at the same time, he was the one who put him through so much pain in the first place. He was conflicted. He only replied to his smile with a confused yet longing gaze, questioning his every intention. Why did he threw that paper airplane? Why did he help him? Why was he so radiant and eccentric? Mikage wondered this questions as if they will never be answered.

"Hello, my darling soulmate. It seems you are well once more," Arisugawa finally spoke for the first time when his darling soulmate wasn't preoccupied with heaving and on the verge of death. It was a bit jarring, to say the least. This teacher-slash-professor-looking man, who was gentle and careful with his words (not as much as Dr. Yukishiro but still), one who inflicted so much pain even if indirectly, with a haircut worse-looking than a mop, was his soulmate. He wanted to kneel and ask the fates — why was he destined to be with this man? Because for one, he was one would describe as "heartless" and "unloving", though he begged to differ.

"Is something the matter?" the mophead asked and widen his eyes in confusion. Mikage noticed his shrinking and slit-like red pupils, like bloody icicles on a particularly icy and dangerous day. They attracted him like a magnet, slowly pulling in and then all at once, he found himself lost in his eyes. The red surrounded him like dark clouds on a thunderous night and the questions he had were being dragged out of him. He screamed but there was no echo to screech in response. And with that, his soulmate understood. "I see. You wish to know why I threw the fated airplane," the other man snapped him back to reality and he nodded furiously, more furious than he ever had done in his life. Arisugawa chuckled and shifted in his seat.

"You see, dear Hisoka, I was naive. I insisted of entering a relationship with a woman before discovering who my fated soulmate is and that, as it should, lead only to ruin and heartbreak. As I was reminiscing on the fragments of memories we had shared, I was surprised to find my hands folding a paper airplane. And without further thinking, I threw it out my window and it flew into the world, oblivious yet all-knowing. It flew right to you and, I'd assume at the very least, your name was carved into my arm the very moment mine was carved into yours," he narrated as he caressed the name on his arm oh-so-lovingly.

As always, he was speechless. He didn't know what to say. He's constantly at a lost for words but this time it felt wrong somehow. Almost guilty for being silent. They only knew each other for, what, a few hours excluding the ones when he was knocked out? And yet he was speaking as if they knew each other for a decade. Mikage wanted to state that they barely knew each other but somehow, he found himself not wanting to break the other man's heart a second time. He was...sympathetic. And somewhat compassionate. He didn't necessarily liked it but it wasn't something he hated either. Maybe this soulmate thing was doing something good for him after all.

"I acknowledge your worries. We do not know each other well, unlike most fated soulmates; but I accept you with open arms. We shall take the time to befriend each other and fall in love. I am willing to bare my soul but in exchange, so will you. What say you?" Arisugawa offered and looked into the other's eyes, impatiently searching for an answer. As much as he hated to admit it, Mikage could easily get lost in his eyes and swim in an endless sea of red, but he knew he had to think of an answer. His eyes might be enchanting but his heart was still conversing with his mind.

'What do you think, Heart?'

'I have felt nothing for decades and you're asking me to feel for someone I barely know?'

'But maybe it'll be worth our while. It's time for some change.'

The whole lobby was silent, save for their breathing and pounding of hearts. Mikage's heart refused to halt but his mind was out of the woods. People always told that you should always go with the preaching of your guts and follow the singing of your heart. But he was soulless and blank. But maybe it's time to write something on that blank slate and fill it with some soul. His heart sang yet again.

'...I suppose.'

And with that, his arms were thrown around the taller man, he felt less than empty but he couldn't say that he was feeling something, unfortunately enough. But as soon as his soulmate rubbed his back reassuringly, he could feel...warmth. If warmth was what he was feeling. He held onto him tighter, as if his life depended on it. Maybe all that pain and adrenaline was worth meeting him. Worth feeling these other feelings. Worth a change of pace.

"Deal," he promised, as another paper airplane dashed out the clinic door, searching for its unsuspecting victim. And Mikage hoped, with all the compassion his steel heart could muster, that the recipient and sender know that the pricks and pain and adrenaline will be worth their while, as cheesy as that sounded in his head. He might've had no right to think that, since he had never open up his heart for anything but, like his soulmate, he was willing to try. If he'd try, then so will anyone else.

Screams could be heard in another room.

[kamwritesshit]

In the world of hitmen, credentials are everything. Among the members of your guild, a License to Harm is one of the most common, while a Licenses to Dismember or Kill are much rarer. One day, an unfamiliar assassin strolls into the guildhall with the highest certification you’ve ever seen: a License to Obliterate.

[kamwritesshit]

A reoccurring mood of mine

[kamwritesshit]

enemies to friends

A story where two characters who dislike each other are stuck together as roommates for whatever reason and there is just one bed

BUT

both characters are secretly aroace and the story is about how they go to great lengths to ignore all the fanfic tropes that keep happening to them, because they abhor the idea of the other character becoming romantically interested in them.

- just one bed? Yup, I absolutely hate you, but you can take it, I’m perfecly happy with sleeping on the floor. I’m NOT sharing it. Okay, we’ll take turns until we can afford an air mattress.

- you got sick? Well, that sucks, but I’m NOT making you soup. Here is some cold medicine, though, because your cough is *annoying*

- my parents are visiting and it sucks because I told them I had a SO but it was a lie. However I will *not* be asking you to pretend to be my SO, and instead will own up to my lie and stand their deprecating comments.

And they become so grateful that the other is not forcing them into romance tropes that they inadvertedly start helping each other avoid uncomfortable situations with other people

- an old friend of character A comes to visit and starts making unrequitted moves? Character B starts telling really bad jokes every time the friend tries to say something romantic.

- B’s ex wants them back and B has been trying to ignore their texts, but the ex calls to say their car broke down and really need B to pick them up? A goes with, they are good with cars and can probably fix it (or tell bad jokes if they can’t)

Helping each other avoid awkward allo situations slowly becomes a routine and they one day they realise they have become best friends. 

The very dramatic moment comes when their friends notice and think there is romance involved, so they force a situation where A and B are left alone in a room during a party. However, by then A and B are comfortable enough with each other to come out and say they are aroace. When their friends spy on them to see if they are kissing, they find them comfortably playing Animal crossing on their phones instead.  

That’s it. That’s the story. 

[kamwritesshit]

[kamwritesshit]

im gonna slide in here to also just say that if you have a story in you, any kind of art, be it a comic, or just visual, or just literature, and you’re scared other people won’t like it or it’ll never get done, it’s still worth it to try and make it. Even if it’s just for you yourself at that point. Even if you never publish it, or you publish it and it doesn’t get the reaction you hoped, I really think it’s worth it to construct the things you feel passionately about. No matter what it was practice and it was a chance for you to reflect on how you think and feel and put something in the world that wasn’t there before. 

[kamwritesshit]

As a fic writer, i need every reader to know that:

I don’t care if your comment is coherent. I know what you mean and i love you

I don’t care if you ramble. I read every word and i love you

I don’t care if you leave a comment on a fic from four years ago or leave comments/kudos on like ten of my fics in one go. This isn’t IG, pls stalk my AO3. I love you

I don’t care if you mention the same thing in your comment that four other people have already mentioned. It’s actually really useful to know what resonated with people and I love everyone who takes the time to tell me they liked a particular turn of phrase

I don’t mind if your comment is super long or just a couple of sentences, i love them all

I love you

[kamwritesshit]

Daily #2,292! No one is more shocked than me.

Now if only I could *always* not be anxious…

[kamwritesshit]

Neil Gaiman’s 8 Rules of Writing, a remake of this post. Source.

Want more writerly content? Make sure to follow maxkirin.tumblr.com for your daily dose of writer positivity, advice, and prompts!

[kamwritesshit]

Please understand that it’s impossible for my app to become official because AO3 wants to remove my app from the AppStore.

[kamwritesshit]

Velvet Violet.

Whoop, starting over again. I’ll just post whatever I want this time, lmao. Here’s something I wrote for a challenge on Amino, inspired by All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven.

Trigger mention: Suicide mention, strong language, anxiety mention

Word count: 2,156 words

Your irises were velvet violet.

That was my initial thought when I saw you on the other side, the school bell an enourmous barrier separating the two of us. Your figure was a bit small, but I could see you clearly. Your eyes were filled with uncertainty and fear as you looked down from above. I looked down too. As expected, a crowd had gathered and they're all glancing up at us, rumours already floating amongst the sea of strangers.

It was strange, seeing you there with me on the ledge of the school's roof that can crumble at any time. Mostly because you're the most popular guy at school — and also a pretty famous actor in Japan. Sumeragi Tenma, I wondered, what brought you here? Your life's as perfect as it should be; famous, rich, popular, what more could you possibly want or need?

"You come up here often?"

I rhetorically asked, knowing damn well I'm the roof's regular customer; only customer, in fact. Pretty sure this ancient roof wasn't expecting any other visitors, let alone Sumeragi Tenma. How did you get up here, I kept wondering. I locked the door to the bell tower when I climbed up here; maybe you had some tricks up your sleeves. Wouldn't bet on that though.

I still remember how you looked to me with those wide eyes, the violet violent yet scared. Probably because it's Hyodo Juza who's calling out to you on a crumbling roof during the calm before the storm. People think I'm cynical, stoic, which I am — kinda. I've grown tired of that so I usually try to entertain myself whenever I'm up here. I thought that maybe I could've entertained you too, even if our sense of humour might differ.

You ignored my question and looked down on the others again. I sighed and inched backwards, not wanting to see or hear whatever the others were spouting about, especially because you were here with me. I could hear my classmates and homeroom teacher yelling insults at the top of their lungs while the counsellor just wanted the both of us to come down.

"Fucking Hyodo at it again!"

"Just jump off, you freak!"

"You two, please come down! It's dangerous up there!"

I flinched at every words thrown up here, as if they were bricks that could finally break the roof and grind it into dust. I, feeling tired, absentmindedly got up and went over to where you sat, jumping all over the roof to which the crowd roared. You jumped at my sudden presence as I sat down beside you. I looked down this time.

I was just that to them — a freak, a monster, a ghost and most importantly, a loner. My appearance has always been scary and everyone avoided me in the hallways but when I'm up here, unreachable, that's when they launch their missiles. I've grown to get used to it, even bored by it at times, depending on my mood. And sometimes, I'm severely affected by it.

It prompted me to actually jump off once or twice. Almost.

I only shook my head and turned my gaze to the grey horizon, searching for the answer for one simple question: what were you doing here, a territory I never meant to mark and rule? You were obviously scared; what good would it be to run up here, especially knowing damn well that Hyodo "Freak" Juza would be up here, talking to himself and occasionally looking down on students with such intense neutrality? Why—

"No."

You mumbled, to my surprise. What surprised me more was the fact that you mumbled the answer to my question. I even chuckled because we both obviously knew the answer to that question. You immediately glanced at me as if I was crazy. And according to almost everyone at school, that pretty much sums up my whole character, apparently. If they think I'm crazy, then you must be weirded out by the fact that I'm not in a mental asylum.

"Of course not. I'm the only one who comes up here."

I replied, adding another chuckle. I could see that you were resisting the urge to smile too but I made no comment. You nodded in agreement and looked down again as I lied down despite the protests from my back. The sky was grey, just how I liked it. But instead of continuing to look at the sky, I looked at you and how your body shivered, whether it was from the pre-storm chill or fear. I wanted to offer you my jacket but 1) you probably wouldn't want it and 2) that's probably gay.

Still, your body sagged and you seemed...lifeless, which was a rare sight. What happened to the high and mighty Sumeragi Tenma everyone knows and loves? Something was definitely up; the only reason I could say that for certain was because I've always observed people from afar rather than engaging in a conversation with them, like a normal person would. Unfortunately, I'm a freak.

"What happened?"

It was a simple question. You turned to stare at me and I hear you mumble a "Huh?". I only sighed and sat up, my eyes and attention fully on you. I wasn't trying to look intimidating — I was just patiently waiting for you to answer my question, seeming how simple it is. You avoided making eye contact with me by staring at your feet. I sighed for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Look, I may be a freak, but I ain't no dunce."

I continued. You shifted a bit, uncomfortable with my words and unsure whether you should retort. Probably because I can throw a mean punch if I want to. Thing is, I didn't feel like raising a single muscle, except maybe to smile so you wouldn't actually jump off. Finally, you slightly raised your head to look straight ahead at a few skyscrapers.

"...One of my close friends died recently and I...just feel weird."

I didn't hesitate to reply.

"Weird as in you feel like going up here and look down on people, wondering whether you should jump or not?"

You fell completely silent and still. I supposed I hit the nail on the head; I wanted to comment on you having close friends since it seemed like you were close friends with everyone you met, excluding those who hate how you're so confident in yourself which could easily be perceived as being egotistical. Even if you were, you had the right to strut the hallways of this god-forsaken school.

I opened my mouth to say something but the bell beside us rang and almost deafened us, but definitely reminding us that we should get our asses to class. Despite that, we both sat still, as the stagnant air mingled with the grayness of the sky. Looks like the storm won't be coming any time soon; still, the calm was alarming. The crowd had dispersed, giving up on us just like how I gave up on myself a long time ago.

"You should get to class."

I spoke up and waited for you to leave. Instead, you shuddered and brought your legs to your chest, your head sulking into the space between your knees like clouds drifting among mountains. I reached out a hand to console you but I had a feeling that you'd freak out more at that and accidentally jump off and I'd be the accidental murderer, as if being a freak wasn't enough. I was half-hoping you'd stay, half-hoping you'd leave my territory, but you chose both.

"...I'm not going unless you're tagging along."

I was genuinely shocked, I felt my eyes widening for more than just a second. But at the same time, I was kinda pissed.

"What, you want me to waltz to class with you so people can praise you and call you the hero who saved the freak of the school? Even when you're this big shot actor and shit? Like I said, I may be a freak but I ain't no dunce."

At this, you raised your head and gazed intensely at me for the first time in forever. Your eyes were violent again but they're just that. Violent and mad, just like the scowl on your face. For the first time in my life, I felt slightly terrified by someone with a smaller figure than me.

"I don't mean it like that. I just don't want to mingle with all those fake people in the halls wanting to get close to me just for money or fame or love or any of that bullshit. My close friend who died...he was the only one who knew the real me. Igawa. I fucking miss him," you rambled. I wanted to reply but you cut me off, continuing.

"So what if you're a freak? At least you're genuine and honest to yourself. To everyone. I spent my whole living lies people had told me. You're allowed to hate someone. I can't. You tell yourself every day that you want to die but you don’t. I was confused. And that's why...that's why I came up here. I wanted to see you."

You stopped venting, breathless. And then, finally, you broke into tears. You cried and cried and cried. I didn't hesitate to give you my jacket as you were shaking more than ever. You wrapped yourself up with it and held on tight to it for dear life. I even rubbed your back which made more tears leak out unapologetically. You even blowed your nose on my jacket. And it was completely fine. Looked like the storm didn't even need to come and ruin your day any more.

After you've done crying, we just leaned against each other. You closed your eyes, but you're wide awake and still so afraid. We spent a few minutes just like that and it was comforting in a way. Having someone lean on you like that; I've never felt such...warmth pulse through me. It felt really, really nice. For what felt like hours, I broke the silence.

"You wanted to see me because I wanna die but don't?"

You nodded, eyes still closed shut, ignorant of the still-grey skies and ugliness of everything. In spite of that, I smiled to myself for no reason and lied down again, completely comfortable this time. I waited for you to talk; I kinda like the way you talk when you're not boasting about your latest role in a movie or some shit. Soft and reassuring. Humble, even. But since you were silent for a while, I decided I should lighten up the mood.

"It's just that...jumping off this roof would be a real boring way to die. Some days I just wait for lightning to strike me or some shit."

Do you remember what you did next? You laughed. A breathy laugh, not the usual one echoing in the school corridors. But I like that too. That whole side of you was pretty refreshing to watch. And to know that I, Hyodo Juza, made you, Sumeragi Tenma, laugh made my chest pound harder than it should. Probably the anxiety of me having potential to make an actual friend. Even after you laughed, you finally smiled. And best yet, my humour spread over to you.

"I don't think you'll die. You'll probably turn into a superhuman. Like Thor or Ultraman..."

Then it was my turn to laugh, not just because I was feeling giggly and playful — he's also very, very wrong. Man, for an actor, he's surprisingly ignorant of famous movie characters.

"You do know that Thor is an actual god, right?"

He denied not knowing, like the tsundere everyone keeps saying he is. And to be honest, I started liking every side of you. Flawed or flawless, I liked each and every one of it. Because you were my first friend. You did that to me. I couldn't even do that to myself. For once in my life, I'm not talking to myself or an imaginary person at school. I'm always talking to you and it's surreal how you make me feel like me, whoever me is supposed to be.

I actually looked forward to school, just to see and talk to you. The best thing is you never grew tired of me. You even dragged me into acting, which I've grown so, so dearly fond of. We're real friends; we talk at school, hang out on weekends, all that stuff. I couldn't ask for more; this was too much of a miracle. Every time I see a glimpse of your bright, orange hair in the hallways, I'd rush over to you and tease how you look like a "fucking tangerine". But most importantly, I'd gaze into your eyes and think of the day I was on the bell tower with you.

Falling in love with your velvet violet irises again and again.