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Memoirs of an empath

@cursemarked / cursemarked.tumblr.com

A semi-selective indie RP journal for Hisoka Kurosaki from Yami no Matsuei (Descendants of Darkness).
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Whatever I was expecting, it isn’t this: all that shy and quiet tucked into hunched shoulders and bashful non-eye contact, swapping secrets over hot tea with milk and lots of honey.   You know, If you’d have asked me a year ago, two years ago, two weeks ago, I’d have said love was all teeth.   Except—here he is, sitting across the table tapping his foot against my knee, talking about stars or storms or waking up in the middle of a good dream. All soft hands. All quiet, heated wanting. All coffee cups and candlelight and none of the ugly.   Turns out, love can’t hold his liquor, can’t hold himself together, pours over the table after two beers and weeps. Just a sad, sweet little thing, looking for the lessons in the heartbreaks.   Nothing like me—trying to hammer trauma into something sharper, locking doors instead of opening them. Me, with his number tucked into my pocket, knowing full well I’ll never call him.

FIRST DATE WITH LOVE by Ashe Vernon

(from the book Wrong Side of a Fistfight, a rewrite of the poem On Loving Love)

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reblogged
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lucicelo

After Hisoka yelled himself hoarse, his father simply held him in a loose embrace, whispering apology upon apology. Frozen stiff, tears gathered in his eyes as he stared forward in disbelief. His gift picked up memories of past interactions, the thought process of his father, who distanced himself to protect him from an unknown that consumed his very being. He didn’t forgive the man, far from it, but he understood the truth and it slowly released his hatred for his father.

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I can manage that, yes.” His reply comes out in a low rasp, and then through a yawn— the late hour last night is making it difficult to fully wake today. Tsuzuki goes to the cabinet and pulls two mugs from the shelf, holding both handles in the grip of one hand. He pours Hisoka’s coffee black. He pours his own cup a little over halfway full to make room for excessive cream and sugar.
“At least today should be an easy one. Just catching up on filing everything.” He holds Hisoka’s mug out to him with a small smile, saying, “Careful, it’s hot.” As nice as it’ll be to have a relaxing day at work (he hadn’t been lying when he said Kyushu is a relatively easy sector to work in, hardly in any need of two full-time shinigami working the field), he’d much rather crawl back into bed and spend the day lazing about. Especially when Hisoka still looks warm and inviting and snuggle-able.
“Boss is such a slave driver,” he sighs. “If it were up to me, we’d have the day off today!”
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“It’s not that bad.“  All they have to do today is finish the report on their latest case, and that’s something that Hisoka can do in his sleep.  Still, he finds easier when Tsuzuki isn’t such a distraction.  When his partner is bored he’ll do anything to entertain himself, even sometimes going so far as to happily daydream in his vicinity.  Hisoka can’t decide if that’s pleasurable or maddening.

It’s good to have him nearby, though.  Hisoka worries when Tsuzuki’s out of sight.  He gratefully takes the cup out of his hand, heir fingers barely brushing.  It’s enough for Hisoka to feel the gentle-intimate emotion Tsuzuki is feeling.  That desire to cuddle in bed.  Bringing the hot drink to his lips, Hisoka looks at Tsuzuki over the rim. 

It really is a shame they have to go to work today.

“I’ll bet you he’s bought donuts for the break room.“

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REBLOG IF YOU’RE COMPLETELY OPEN TO ROLEPLAYING WITH A MUSE WHO DOES NOT HAVE THE ABILITY TO SPEAK AS A REGULAR CHARACTER WOULD BUT RATHER COMMUNICATES VIA SCRIBBLING/WRITING OR SIGN LANGUAGE.

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