double-edged sword

chapter 13: the farewell

Water was boiling in the iron kettle set on the stove, steeped in orange from the dancing candleflame in the other room. The air was unnaturally still, and no other sounds echoed through the infinite space—not the thunder, not the pattering of rain that drummed down on the tiled roof outside, not the shuffle of footsteps retreating into buildings all around. The bamboo had been drawn up on the circular windows, and the doors sealed shut, but they wouldn’t be for long.

The grim reaper laid out the cloth on the plain wooden table—a practised motion. The fukusa cloth lay still and uncreased—an ocean of smooth white silk. The reaper lay the brewing tray out next, the smooth dark wood equipped with slats to catch any spills—not that he needed any at all. Every part of the process was perfect, measured, free of human error. His gloves met the smooth, barren porcelain of the yokode teapot—free from the confines of inscription or carvings—placing it gingerly on the tray.  This was no ordinary teahouse, and aesthetics had no place at the edge of the world.

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

chapter 12: the star

Akaashi found himself lost in the gold, wading and drowning in a sea of fire and sun. He could not never understand the extent of Bokuto’s fondness for him, but Akaashi could see the barest glimpse of what went on in that meteorite heart of his. Bokuto was not special, no. He wasn’t a special human being. But he was special to Akaashi. He had become special to Akaashi.

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

chapter 11: the not-date

It was like a gear in the universe was turning slowly and steadily, a door was opening among an infinite number of closed ones; maybe he was able to understand warmth. Food was a way to bring about warmth and comfort. Grim reapers were supposed to understand comfort. They were the last touch of comfort and the teahouse a last source of solace for the dead. Comfort was part of his job, but the grim reaper was left shaken with every bite of his onigiri. He felt as though he had never understood comfort at all.

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

chapter 10: the proposal

“What are you going to do?”

“I will handle Bokuto-san myself,” the grim reaper said.

“What are you going to wear?”

The grim reaper gave him a pointed look.

“Don’t tell me you’re wearing that ratty old hat on a date,” Kuroo said.

“Do not insult my hat, Kuroo-san.”

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

chapter 9: the resolution

“You can set to me, and I’ll spike it—” Bokuto huffed. “—like this!”

The resounding thud of the ball reverberated through the space—singular and impactful; a meteor’s impact, and the collision of planets. There was another unexplainable feeling humming inside the reaper’s chest, where his heart was supposed to be. This feeling. It was just like the other one in its entirely unfamiliar nature, but it was vastly different. It was easy, comfortable, warm . The reaper did not know what it was, but he didn’t try to suppress it. It should’ve been abhorrent—a grim reaper feeling , there should’ve been something so innately wrong and disorderly about that, but perhaps the grim reaper had been learning a thing or two from his time with Bokuto. Did the universe really have time to care about one grim reaper feeling an emotion or two?

“We’d make a good team, you and I!”

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

chapter 8: the noise

“Thank you, anyway.” Bokuto swiped at his eyes, wiping his cheeks on the back of his sleeve. “I look stupid now.”

His eyes were rimmed red and puffy, and his face was still mapped with tear tracks, but the grim reaper didn’t see anything stupid about it. He saw something amazing. Bokuto had been so strong and determined all along that the reaper was almost taken aback by how scared he had been about dying. He had once told the reaper he was scared, but it didn’t really reach the reaper until he saw it for himself.

“I don’t see it.”

“See what?”

“The stupidity.”

Bokuto blinked. He scooted a little closer and held up his face.

“You don’t see it? I look stupid.”

“I don’t,” the grim reaper confirmed. “Explain yourself.”

“I cried so hard and my face is swollen now,” Bokuto whined. “I look ugly now, Akaashi.”

“You’re not ugly.”

“Then what am I?”

“You’re Bokuto-san,” the grim reaper said.

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

v. the hierophant | tradition, convention, conformity

The Hierophant’s task is to pass down his spiritual wisdom and divining by understanding the traditions and core principles of his time. The crossed keys at the Hierophant’s feet represent the balance between the conscious and subconscious minds and the unlocking of mysteries, which only he can teach. He may be able to present alternate viewpoints to challenge the established hierarchy, rejecting the strict ideas of tradition and structure in favor of personal power.

“Star scrying,” Akaashi replied simply. “It’s a method of divination.”

“So what do you see?”

“A heart,” Akaashi explained. “It is a symbol of love.”

“Does this mean we’re compatible?” Bokuto asked quietly. He didn’t have to clarify who “we’re” was.

“Yes, it means you’re compatible,” Akaashi offered no further explanation. There was a little twinge in his own heart when he saw the way Bokuto pumped his fist into the air, drawing a look from the rest. Was it possible to be jealous of yourself?

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

chapter 7: the visit

“Say, you’re always giving me advice,” Kuroo said. “How about I give you some of my own for a change?”

“I don’t see how a demon’s advice would aid a grim reaper.”

“Have a little faith, Akaashi,” Kuroo said. “Tell me more about this Bokuto.”

The grim reaper sighed. Even he was not completely immune to the urging of one demon. The wind whistled through the empty streets outside as the conversation took place in the heart of the teahouse, the two inhuman figures surrounded by a wreath of candlelight. The reaper told the demon about Bokuto’s dream, about his fear, and the little idiosyncrasies and quirks of the volleyball player that incited what could be considered confusion in the reaper. He told Kuroo about Bokuto’s eyes, and his favorite color, and his food choices. Then he recalled Bokuto’s stubborn and emotionally-prone nature, and the fire of his dream. He conveyed it all in his flat and placid tone, but even that could not mask the vitality of Bokuto’s very being.

“I may not know this Bokuto,” Kuroo began. “But it sounds to me like you’re quite fond of him, my dear reaper.”

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

Chapter 6: the ace

“I do have a dream,” Bokuto said—a declaration.

The grim reaper felt a brush of something great, like he was on the cusp of the birth and death of the universe witnessing a meteor flying past. A meteor that could be quite breathtaking, but was lost against the brilliance of the cosmos around it. He felt like he was on the edge of witnessing something great—life, love, loss—and if he blinked he might just miss it. The meteor was already winking out of his line of sight, hurtling on a greater path that he could never understand, but had been given a chance, a glimpse of.

“And I want it to come true.”

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

chapter 5: the bell

It was like the clock’s hands were crawling with great effort through the excruciating turn of time, barely moving against the drone of the teacher’s voice. Pens and pencils whispered across the kiss of paper pages, denoting the stubborn rhythm of numerals and brackets and signs. Math had never been Bokuto’s favorite subject. Not even once. That’s what he liked about it. He was convinced that he could make anything his favorite thing if he searched for the something that made it special. He hadn’t found that yet for math, and that was what excited him.

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

milk-white

bokuaka | E | 2.3k

Akaashi liked to think of himself as a fickle creature, one that couldn’t be pleased simply by moving through life with a plain and banal existence. One might even call him hedonistic at best. He had come to the conclusion that he simply recognized the merits of pampering oneself and indulging in the many sensory experiences that life had to offer. Well, he didn’t spend tons of money on skincare and shower products for nothing. Caring for one’s body was simply an aspect of enjoying life, and one that he greatly enjoyed. Getting fucked in his own shower hadn’t been included in Akaashi’s definition of self-care, but he had always lauded himself on keeping an open mind.

Chapter 4: the commute

The sky was slowly lighting up with the vitality of the day, and the platform was nice and cool in the morning, as always. There were a few other people on the platform waiting for the same train, everybody lining up behind the marks on the floor—an unspoken and respected order. There was a comfortable cadence of normality in taking the train here, a nice rhythm of humdrum that Bokuto could seek solace in. He enjoyed the unpredictability and excitement of things like playing volleyball, but even he needed a break sometimes. He took in the calm morning air, feeling the tension in his limbs melt away.

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

iv. the emperor | authority, convention, structure

The Emperor sits on a golden throne, locked into power by heed of tradition. Behind his throne looms a tall, impenetrable mountain range, signifying that he is backed by a solid foundation but resistant to making any changes unless he deems it necessary. Beneath the peaks flows a small river, offering some hope that despite his tough exterior, he is still an emotional being — it will just take a lot of digging and trust to open him up to his softer side.

“Akaaaashi.”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“So, you’re here to help me pick a suitor?”

There was a slight clench in the mage’s jaw that would’ve gone unnoticed if Bokuto hadn’t been watching so closely.

“Yes, that is my job.”

“Do you think I really need a suitor?”

“It is not my place to say,” Akaashi stated.

Bokuto squinted. It was hard to wring emotion out of Akaashi’s responses, but he was not one to give up so easily.

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

Chapter 3: the ticking clock

| grim reaper au | G | cw: major character death

“I’m not doing it,” Bokuto said. Frankly, it sounded silly to him, but he couldn’t deny that a little part of him was scared that if he really did look into the reaper’s eyes, somehow it might be able to convince him to give up his life and his dream. He had heard tales of hypnotists—stories that told of people with the abilities to make others cluck like a chicken or bark like a dog. He supposed that this was something like that, except that he wouldn’t be able to cluck or bark if he was going to be dead.

a bokuaka piece that I’ve written for @bokuakabigbang, with art done by the lovely narufirefox

read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

Chapter 24: The Dawn

Zuko and Sokka hiked their backpacks higher on their shoulders and began to walk out of the park. They wove through the game stalls and traversed the creaky wooden boards of the pier, ducking under water-stained tarps and rain-sullen wood beams. The morning sun was easy on their skin, and the ocean waves soothing on their ears. There was a poignant comfort in how empty it was out here, and a peculiar inherence in the way that they had adapted to life in the aftermath of humanity’s demise. They were ghosts with a loneliness that had once persecuted their soul, trekking across the vastness of the world together. They didn’t know where they were going, or even where to begin, but they had to get going. You didn’t stop, even for the end of the world.

This was only the beginning, after all.

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

art by the amazing @beignetbenny and beta by @flydunes

Chapter 23: The Rise & Fall

“There’s one thing you and I were wrong about, Suki.” Sokka turned to her with a daring shine in his eyes, like the rippling of an ocean wave that had nowhere left to go but to throw itself onto the rocks and howl with the force of the sea. Suki had once fallen for Sokka, and she was one of the few who understood exactly what it was like to stare into someone else’s soul and see a reflection of your own. Sokka was entirely Sokka, but looking into his eyes made you feel as if you were a part of his world too. “This is our fight as much as yours.”

Warrior and Fighter. In the light of the dawn, they stand facing each other—no longer enemies but instead, survivors . There was no mistaking the look in each other’s eyes. There was no mistaking the shaking hands that held the weapons they had used against each other. There was no mistaking the humanity that was left standing in the dusty grounds of that abandoned amusement park. They were the ones left at the end of the world, at the edge of fate. This whole time, they had been making enemies out of each other, when in actuality they had forgotten what they had been fighting against. Fate . They were defying fate—the fate of the world, the fate of all the lives that had been lost, the fate of humanity itself. The world had wanted them dead, and yet here they were. Still standing, still alive. Still human.

Read it here, and the rest of the chapters here.

art by the amazing @beignetbenny and beta by @flydunes