Writing Blog

[shortficsdiary]

3.18.2018

“I used to want to be a musician.”

Shouichi is somewhat surprised when Byakuran doesn’t laugh at the absurdity of his impromptu confession. Instead, Byakuran asks, sincerely, “Why didn’t you pursue it?”

“It wasn’t meant to be, I guess. I’m more suited for this kind of stuff, anyway.” Though he’s always been good at it, Shouichi nevertheless wonders if he’s happy with his choice of study. If he’d been right in quashing his dream of becoming a musician instead of studying engineering, as he’s doing now. 

Byakuran seizes the opportunity Shouichi leaves, distracted and unguarded in his daydreaming, to steal a long, overly drawn-out sip from Shouichi’s coffee cup. He even has the gall to dump three more packets of processed sugar into it, and he knows fully well that Shouichi can’t stand sweets. The smug bastard.

Shouichi’s too used to Byakuran’s self-entitled behavior now to put up much protest, so he doesn’t and settles for a half-hearted kick to Byakuran’s shin beneath the table. (He’s a little pleased with the quiet “ow!” that unwillingly tumbles from Byakuran’s lips in response.)

“Why are you here studying engineering, anyway, Byakuran-san? You don’t really seem like the type.” Ironically, Byakuran actually looks more like a musician than an engineer. Shouichi once rummaged through his closet and found nothing except designer jeans, artfully torn shirts, leather jackets, and enough studded belts to dress an entire emo-punk band.

(Though, in terms of personality, Shouichi suspects that Byakuran could lead quite a successful life as a career politician.)

Byakuran hums for a moment as he considers Shouichi’s question. Shouichi waits, already half-anticipating that Byakuran won’t bother to give him a serious answer.

“I’m here to get what I was searching for,” he finally says, vaguely. Shouichi’s a little annoyed, but also intrigued. 

“Did you find it, then?”

Byakuran takes another stolen swig of Shouichi’s coffee - it might as well be his, now - and Shouichi’s heart flutters a bit as Byakuran smiles, lavender eyes piercing directly into his own. 

Byakuran licks his lips and says, so pleasantly it could almost be a threat:

“Yes, I found him, alright.”

Shouichi doesn’t know why it sends shivers down his spine.

[shortficsdiary]

1.12.2018

Arima Kishou had one wish.

They say that in fairy tales, wishes might come true.

If Arima’s life was a fairy tale, then surely he’d be -

“No! Please! I don’t want to die!”

A slash. 

Blood. 

A body hits the ground.

Death.

- A monster.

Arima Kishou knew he was a monster.

And monsters never got their wishes granted. 

Monsters never had happily-ever-afters.

Monsters only knew how to kill.

Just like Arima.

“Arima-san, I brought you some new books today!”

But there was someone who cared for that monster.

Someone that monster cared for as well.

Someone who might grant that monster’s wish.

Arima Kishou wished to be loved.

Thank you, Haise.

[shortficsdiary]

1.9.2018

Sweet dreams, Arima-san.

You showed me I was weak, and you made me strong.

You took away my past, and then you gave me a future.

You killed me, and then gave me a new life.

You showed me pain, and then you healed me.

You taught me fear, then how to love.

You were at times hard and cold, at times soft and warm.

You imprisoned me. You freed me.

You saved me.

You loved me.

I loved you too.

I wish I could have saved you as well.

I will see you again soon.

Sweet dreams, Arima-san. Good night, Haise.

[shortficsdiary]

1.8.2018

“Babe, if Makkachin could talk, what do you think he’d say to us?”

It’s another lazy Sunday morning for Victor and Yuuri in St. Petersburg. They’re nestled up together under the blanket in Victor’s king-sized bed, Victor’s arms holding Yuuri to his chest as Makkachin lies snoozing on top of the covers at their feet. Victor absently presses a kiss to Yuuri’s ear while he considers Yuuri's half-awake musing.

“Maybe he’d say he’s getting tired of the dog food mix we always feed him, and he’d like us to switch it up once in a while, hm?”

Yuuri’s soft laughter warms Victor’s heart. He’ll never tire of it as long as he lives.

“Well, I guess the life of a dog doesn’t have much in the way of intellectually sophisticated thought processes then.” Yuuri shifts, pressing their chests together as he tosses an arm over Victor’s shoulder. Victor closes his eyes and just focuses on the feeling of Yuuri’s own heartbeat against his. 

“How rude, Yuuri. I’ll have you know that our Makka is a certified genius, maybe the smartest dog in the entire world. Actually, he’s got six degrees from Moscow University, didn’t you know?”

Yuuri snorts. “Mm, I must have missed that section on your Wikipedia page.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence. There are birds chirping outside Victor’s window, the sun’s soft light filtering in through the blinds. Makkachin’s leg kicks out behind him as he dozes, chasing pretend rabbits in his sleep.

Victor loves these moments with Yuuri. He doesn’t ever want to let them go.

Yuuri’s nearly asleep again when Victor whispers to the crown of his head, “Actually, I think I know what Makkachin would say, if he could say something right now.”

Yuuri’s quiet hum of acknowledgement encourages Victor to go on.

“He’d say, ‘I love you, Yuuri, so, so much, and I’m so glad you came into Victor’s life. Please stay by our side, and never leave us.’ I think that’s what he’d say.”

“Oh, Victor.” Victor’s heart leaps when Yuuri tilts his head up to look at him, eyes soft and glowing with life and love.

“I love you too.” He lifts his hand to Victor’s face and strokes the skin of his cheek, his body shifting again to a more comfortable position as he starts kissing up Victor’s jaw. Makkachin’s tail unconsciously thumps the bed at the movement, bringing the two men’s awareness back to the now-waking dog.

Victor stills, and Yuuri smiles fondly when the poodle rises, his fluffy tail wagging at the sight of his two favorite humans. “And Makkachin, too, of course.”

[shortficsdiary]

1.2.2018

“To get Shou-chan to say yes when I ask him the big question~”

It was supposed to be a simple conversation filler, Shoichi thought, ears and cheeks reddening, but leave it up to Byakuran to turn this into another quick opportunity to embarrass Shoichi at every given moment.

“I just asked you what your new year’s resolution was, Byakuran-san. If you didn’t want to answer with something serious, you could have just said so.” Shoichi currently doesn’t feel like looking the other man in the eye, so he doesn’t. He’s afraid he’ll get irritated at the sly, playful look Byakuran no doubt is giving him right now (which seems to happen all too often recently).

“I’m hurt, Shou-chan. You know I’m always serious about what I say.”

Shoichi hums, a note of vague acknowledgment, and focuses on stirring more sugar into his coffee. Byakuran has been saying a lot of weird things, lately. Shoichi always does his best to patiently humor him, but he knows that Byakuran knows that he hates being teased, and even Shoichi has his limits (though they’ve certainly been stretched quite far since meeting Byakuran).

“Well, if you’re going to just outright reject my romantic advances, then maybe at least you’ll listen to my business proposition?” This makes Shoichi look up again, to an annoyingly perfect view of Byakuran’s easy, catlike grin.

Another one of Byakuran’s crazy ideas, probably, but Shoichi can’t help his wary interest. Byakuran will be graduating their university this spring, but Shoichi hasn’t heard about any job offers he’s gotten yet. He’s not even sure Byakuran’s bothered applying to anything.

“I’m going to start a business venture,” - Shoichi’s not sure he likes where Byakuran is going with this, given that Shoichi’s never witnessed him actually finishing a single school project by himself in his entire four years of uni life, and it’s a wonder Byakuran has even managed to fulfill the minimum number of credits required for him to graduate - “and I want you to be my partner.”

Just humor him, Shoichi thinks. Byakuran is fortunate enough to possess both natural genius and the bankrolling of his wealthy Italian family, so surely if he’s passionate enough to put even a little effort into making his “business venture” work, Shoichi could consider what he has to say. “What's your idea?”

This time, Byakuran is the one taking his time stirring his own cup of coffee. When he finally looks up, there’s a glint in his eyes that Shoichi’s never seen before. 

“What do you think about the idea of world peace?”