It Started with Love was named as such because people who know who I am as writer, know for a fact that I suck at titles- therefore this. The name is so suckish (more titles will be displayed under this title-file and that will display how bad I am at naming), even I cringe at it. It Started with Love is a collation of oneshots- again from mibba- which I have written and dedicated solely for/about Finnish Men (Rockstars). Therefore this title is only going to serve towards Finns. Yes. Ah, well.

You will see a lot of Ville Valo, Tuomas Holopainen, Kristian Mikkonen (Sir Christus) and Jonne Aaron Liimatainen under this section, so if you don't fancy any of them or really don't give a bat's ass nor a rat's shit about my writings, I warmly suggest you leave.




Under The Rose

I dream of the winter in my heart turning to spring

So harsh. Very harsh. His heart cold. Senseless. Loss of feelings. Numb. Until he met her. That was when he learned the meaning of warmth. The meaning of good. The meaning of love.


While the ice gives way under my feet

So dangerous. Falling in love, that is. The reason why he secluded himself in the first place. The reason why he’s so afraid.

And so I drown with the sun

And he takes this chance. This chance of falling in love and learning. Learning to fall and stand up again. Learning that the world isn’t so cruel after all.


I open my eyes with a sigh of relief

He goes through it strong. Strong enough to not know when to fall. But the fear still consumes him. He didn’t want this to end. He wanted love, yet he was so afraid. How vast a mistake.


As the warmth of summer sunlight dances around me

Warmness that he feels, he loves. He has learned to adore this, uncovering that beastly heart he once had. Becoming a new person as a whole. Loving it, loving it, loving it.


And I see you with dead leaves in your hands

Hopeless. It ends. He hates her. He doesn’t want this anymore. The beast inside hime arises once again. The one that was once forgotten. The one that drowned a long time ago, now burning with desire. Waiting, waiting for the right moment to once again consume him to become the man he once was.

I’ve been burning in water and drowning in flame

Trying everything. Everything and anything to forget. Forgetting the past. Starting anew. Wanting nothing more to do with love. It’ll only end up in tears. Pretending it doesn’t affect him. He was being strong. But only on the outside. What lays beneath the layers of skin is a man craving. Craving for happiness, the desire to love once again.

To prove you wrong and scare you away

He doesn’t want to admit defeat. He doesn’t want to be wrong. He wanted wholesome in this. Even though he couldn’t have found it and he knows. He knows that. But being the man that he is, the one that doesn’t give up willingly. As much as he wants to hate her, he just can’t. Because she was the first. The first one he loved. The first one he lost.


I admit my defeat and want back home

Defeated. Loss. Emptyness. All the felt. But he wanted back in her arms. He couldn’t take it. The pressure. The emptyness. Life like an empty void. Life with no purpose. Love. He wanted it. He craved it. He needed it. Badly. And so now he knows when to give up his pride. Hand it over for something more. Something magnificent. Something that he loves. Back in her arms.


Your heart under the rose


As her fingers danced across the keys to the last sentence, she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her. The warmth, happiness, love, the feeling he was giving off. He was not the man he was anymore. He has changed. To become someone. Someone that she loved. Someone who she cares for. Somone whom she calls hers.

____________________________
A/N: I'm proud of this one. :D
(More Under The Cut)

Storm is something I've created over mibba; a file name that contains the stories of fiction for Japanese men, specially created to fit whatever I want to fit in it- doesn't make sense, I gets. The stories under the file-title are the best that I've written amongst the other fiction I've composed. At least I think so. Storm had let me to explore new lengths and helped me discover what I could actually do in the art of writing a fanfiction.

(Warning; This story *PARTICULARLY contains NC-17 graphical situations- let me remind you again that this is a work of fiction and please, I beg you with all my heart and soul; do not be offended and enter at risk. Please and Thank you.)


Escape

7 January 2003,Tuesday

It was long a day, today. I’m exhausted.
Me and Shujiko skipped a couple of lessons. We helped Arina out of school, she looked like she was near death. Okay, I was exaggerating- but she still was in pain though. We only returned to class when the cab we called for her finally arrived. Oh how I wished that’d last longer. I’m sick and tired of lectures. D:

Tanaka Koki. He spoke to me today.
We conversed like we’ve known each other for years. It was only a five minute talk though. Still, it did shed a little light on the real him. Or what I know is the real him.
Maybe there’s a good side to Tanaka after all. …?


10 January 2003, Friday

Oh, TGIF!. Class was short and sweet, nothing that lasted more than an hour(thank god). Gah, I’m tired. I should do more things, socially and academically. Let us begin intensive self-reconstruction, shall we?
YOSH!

I feel like there’s an empty void that needs to be filled.


16 January 2003, Thursday

He came up to me again, today. Tanaka. We conversed much longer than our previous meeting. When he first talked to me, I didn’t expect there would be a second time. He was Tanaka Koki after all. He wasn’t the kind of person I hung out with, wasn’t the kind of person I talked to. Call my standards high, I don’t care. But our cliques just don’t match. So when he came up to me once again today, I was surprised. Because in both our minds, my kind of people hated his kind, and his kind hated us. But when he talked to me…

Somehow that void seemed to be filled.


20 January 2003, Monday

I tried catching his eye. I tried smiling at him. Both of those failed. I don’t think he’s avoiding me, I just think that it’ll ruin his rep if he goes around saying ‘hello’ to every wallflower in front of him instead of flirting with them.
Hell, it’ll ruin my rep. ..but why am I so concerned?


31 January 2003, Friday

It’s my birthday. Am I supposed to sing myself a song?

After last week, I didn’t even bother to look at him. I kept telling myself; If he wanted to talk to me, he’ll come.

And he did. I don’t know how and why he did it, but he did. He slipped me a note during lunch, it told me to wait for him under the bridge near our school after class. I was hesitant at first. Hell, as said, he wasn’t the kind of person I’d trust so easily. But I showed. And (surprisingly)he was there. He held out a cupcake, a purple one, with a single candle. He asked me to blow it and make a wish. I did. And we spent the rest of the evening there. What I’d always wished for;

Escape.


5 February 2003, Wednesday

I love my friends. I just hate them as people.
Because they could be the most insensitive people on the face of the Earth. We’re not superior, we just like to look down on others when we’re the people who’re supposed to be looked down on.

The only person I could truly be myself with; Tanaka Koki.



“What’s up with you?” He asked, tilting his head a little to the side.

Once again, they sat across from each other, their legs crossed; under the bridge near their school. They’ve been meeting each other, secretly, for the last five months. Always under that bridge. Sneaking away from friends or acquaintances just to fulfil the planned date. It wasn’t as if they were a couple, it was date of friendship. The only time where the both of them could be themselves.

“Why did you start talking to me?” Ran questioned, pointing a look at Tanaka.

He shrugged, exhaling the smoke from his lungs, “I don’t even remember what I talked to you about. How do you expect me to ask myself why?”

“That’s a shit answer.” She spat.

“I’m a shit person.”

Ran shook her head, she couldn’t believe how lightly Tanaka took everything. He seemed as if the world meant nothing, his life meant nothing. Deep down inside, she was envious. She couldn’t be like him, free like the wind.

“Why’re you still hanging out with those brats you call friends?” He asked, inhaling the remains of his third cigarette.

She sneered at him, “You’re one to talk. I’ll hang out with whoever the fuck I want. It’s none of your concern.”

Tanaka smirked, “Oh, if your friends heard the curses that flow out of your lips like water from a river, they’d murder you.”

“And I’ll murder you if you ever spill any of our meetings to anyone.”

Koki rolled his eyes, “I’d murder myself if I ever spilled anything to anyone. You’re not that much of a superior woman that everyone needs to know who you hang out with.

“Go to hell, Tanaka.”

Tanaka jumped on his knees and crawled forward, nearing his face till it was inches apart from Ran. He spoke; “Make me.”

She stuttered, even though she had spent a lot of time with Tanaka, she hadn’t been caught in such a suggestive position. “Tanaka, get off.” She muttered sternly, pushing his shoulders up.

Once again, he quipped; “Make me.”

He pushed his lips towards hers, gaining entry almost immediately to her opened mouth. Lacing his tongue with hers, she heard her give out a small moan. He loved it.

Tanaka Koki couldn’t help himself anymore. He waited five months. Five months to have her. At first he wanted her as a friend, because in all honesty, she was the only one whom he could call his sole saviour. The only one that took him out of the dark world he lived in. She was his only escape.

With time, he felt love. He felt loved and in return, loved her. It would’ve only took at most a week for him to get a normal girl into bed, but she deemed different. She was conservative yet she was able to bad-mouth. A lot. And he loved that. He loved how she acted towards her friends, so tacky and girly, whereas towards him, she was strong and dominant.

He wanted to dominate this time round.

Stradling his waist, she deepened the passionate kiss, fulfilling her lust. She wanted him there and then; “Fuck me.”

She was no different from him; Kazama Ran was just an average girl. Of course she reigned more superior, her grades, her scores, her level. But she didn’t want all that. She didn’t need it. What she needed was someone to listen, someone who wasn’t fake and acted all high and mighty when they aren’t. Of course she acted that way, it was only a façade she deceived the people she called friends with. They thought they knew her. How far they are from the truth.

The only friend that eventually fulfilled all her wishes was someone she didn’t expect. Because the first time Tanaka Koki talked to her, she thought that he was just there to have a quick fuck.

Koki groaned; pleasure and bliss overcoming him. Intoxicated.

Because once they were one, they realised that the both of them were more similar then they had expected. They realised that their need for each other had been there long before they met. They realised that they were the only people who satisfied the other.

“Scream my name.”


11 January 2009, Saturday

A day to shed light on who we really are.

Five months to glory.

Seven years to get her to marry me.

I, Tanaka Koki, solemnly swear, in sickness and in health, to care, love and cherish Kazama Ran, till death do us part.

Because after all this time, she’s still my escape.


__________________________________

A/N: For the record, I wrote this before the news of Koki-doing-a-transex-news story.

(More Under The Cut)

A lot of people probably remember what their first movie was. Probably something epic; Star Wars, Harry Potter, Finding Nemo. They would probably be quite excited about their first trip to the theater. I don’t quite remember what I saw on my first trip to the movies, and frankly speaking, I don’t get what the hype is if one does remember what movie he saw when he was ten.


If memory feeds me well, it was quite a memorable trip. As I have previously revised, I am the last out of six siblings, the only girl among five guys, all of whom are at least ten years older than I am. And you’re probably gonna get tired of reading this, but; typical fanfic character.

My brothers are morons, in all honesty. Yes, all of them did attend University- yes, even James, but that doesn’t justify that they’re sane. Or normal.

James was the oldest, out of all of us. In the household, he was the mafia. Okay, not really, that was our dad. But between us siblings, he was the strongest, most significant person that one could look up to when in need. He didn’t fight for you, he fights with you. This directly translates into how all his other siblings just seem to get a black eye every other day of the week.

You know how Yankumi’s grandfather trained her how to fight in the first season of Gokusen? Yeah, well James was a little like that. Just a little less accepting and a little more kick-ass. Literally. It was like he looked forward to training sessions between us just because he wants to see his siblings down on the ground, clutching their abdomens in pain.

“This is unfair, I have exams at the end of the month!” Leon complained, getting into the back seat of the five seatter.

“Eh, we all have a life too, okay.” Randall piped, his Singaporean accent adamant. Now thinking back, he was the only one out of my five brothers who has his accent still intact. Even though we were all born and raised in the sunny island, only me and Randall got away with being true, blue Singaporeans since the other four studied abroad and had… their own weird way of speaking.

“Quit whining, Leona,” Allan teased as he ran up past the last male.

Garret was the second child, so it was only right of him to take after James’ character; his vigor, stature, even down to the way he talked at that time, it was a mimic of James’ delinquent days as referred to by Allan.

Growing up with Garret didn’t prove too interesting. He wasn’t at all taken with me, and neither was I with him. When I was younger, I really didn’t get why he loved to scold me, no matter how slight the problem might be, he would come at me like deer in a lion’s den. He wasn’t like James or Allan or Randall or Leon, no matter hows irritably Leon got at me, he still treated me as a kid when I was. But Garret expected so much more.

And somehow, I grew to hate him.

“Can guys shut up and just get in?” Garrett shouted angrily from the truck.

As my brothers loaded up into the navy blue truck, I found myself starring at its plate number as the engine revved up. I didn’t know why, but I was so out of it at that time that I just stared as James drove off.

If I remember correctly, I was sitting on the concrete steps leading to the lift of our apartment block for an hour before my brothers showed up again. Okay, not really- that was just for comedic effect. They got me after about ten minutes, which can take you somewhere (like a shopping mall) when you’re in Singapore.

That was basically the highlight of my life, if you talk in terms of sibling relationship. The good thing about being a decade younger than the rest of the family is that sibling rivalry had long been over and done with, so one didn’t need to experience the turmoil and anger of having your brother wanting to beat you up after everything you did. Oh, wait, that’s Garret.

The bad thing was that, growing up, I didn’t know my brothers much. By the time I turned ten, they were either striving to get their careers on track or busy going through books that weighed ten kilos for mid-terms.

Allan had just gotten back from America, a true jock, he was playing quarterback with cheerleaders fawning over him. He had muscles the size of Mount Everest, training them with lifting me up until I got too heavy for him to carry. He was the nice one, though we really weren’t that close. Allan loved girls, but the thing was, he did not at all know how to interact with me. Which I find ironic, but then again, my whole family is ironic. Sometimes, he was so awkward in conversations that James would slap the back of his head to stop him from stuttering.

I guess, in all my years as a kid sister, the only brother I seem to get along with is Randall. I looked up to him, he was like Batman (because everyone knows that Batman’s much cooler than Superman) and I always wanted to be Robin. He wasn’t like the rest, in a good way, Randall understood me. At least he acted like he did, and he used to shower me with everything and anything that I ask for. Of course material things weren’t what I strived for, but it was good sometimes.

Even though James would be appointed by our parents to take care of me, the job was constantly pushed to Randall. And he watched me grow up, not just physically, but mentally. He was the person I’d go to when the weight of the world seemed to burden my shoulders. Randall was my shelter, is my wall, and will forever be my brother. Just like the rest of them.

Leon was always too busy with his books to care. And he was the closest to sibling rivalry I’ll ever get. It was something like, I tried kicking, but he’d just hold me down with one finger. No, I wasn’t talking about physical fights, if it was that, I would’ve pinned his ass down and won hands down- the others seem to have a lot of fun betting on it too. But Leon was such a… tool. Ah, he’s gonna kill me.

I think he was quite determined not to turn out like his older brothers, therefore he’s always knee deep in books. It was frustrating sometimes, for me, to not be given the attention I wanted from Leon. Of course I had all the others, but sometimes, my list gets canceled out so he’s always the last resort.

But at the end of the day, he’s a good guy, no matter how prissy and straight arrowed he is. And you know what’s more ironic? Is that Siwon is exactly like him. They’re like copies of each other, and our characters- mine and Siwon’s- just seem to completely match. So I thought it wasn’t that impossible for me to get along with Leon. God, even his name sounds prudish. Yeah, he’s gonna kill me.

“Yeah, thanks for that guys, it’s the highlight of my life.” I sarcastically remarked as my brothers started laughing from around me.

We found ourselves huddled together in the corner of the wedding boutique, discussing how brainstorming our way through how to go about Randall’s wedding with as little hassle as possible.

I gazed across the round table and my eyes met with Garret’s. He smiled at me.

On that particular day, when they’d driven off without me, we were supposed to go watch my first movie as a child. It was so particular because Garret had shouted at me for being too excited when I got to the theater. Talk about traumatic childhood. I think, by then, I was just too used with him being unjust towards me that I really didn’t care what he had to say. But it was salt in a wound when all the parents started starring at him, and their kids, holding on to their popcorn and candy floss, were laughing at me discreetly, as if it was a free show.

I didn’t really tear as a kid, and one wouldn’t usually do that when she grew up with men dominating the household, and I didn’t plan on starting then. So I kept to myself, and kept repeating inside my head that this was normal, people would stop starring and Garret would cool off. But that was easily, one of the most humiliating experiences of my life, and I vowed never to forgive him.

But that night, as if it was a turn of events, I found him standing in front of my room, a tub of ice cream in his hands, “Wanna watch a movie?” He asked, faintly showing that he was unsure of himself.

A sane person would’ve rejected his offer, but we came from the same family therefore our genes were screwed up somewhere, and I nodded at his offer. And you know what? I didn’t regret it. Because that night, I found out how my brother isn’t really the person he acts out to be. He just didn’t know how to act- much worse than Allan’s case.

That tub of ice cream was just a bridge that he tried to form, after ten years of my existence, to try to get close to me. And my ten-year-old self could faintly see that glimmer in his eyes that said he was genuinely sorry, not only for what he did to me at the theater that day, but for everything else that he did, or failed to do, as a brother.

I thought he was indifferent, but he cared.

Our relationship didn’t change over night, but I respect him with all my heart and soul, for trying his best to connect with… something… that was so foreign to him- his feelings. Over the years, we did get closer as siblings and though there are disagreements- he would shout at me, but I’ve learnt to shout back, and now worked towards sitting down and talking things out.

I guess our relationship as siblings wasn’t like what normal people shared, because our age gap was so far apart that there was nothing in common. And I guess he was just trying to find common ground with the one thing that he was good at, fighting.

I’ve since vowed a new vow; is that to always forgive Garret Taenaka, no matter how rough he can be, no matter how loud he shouted at me, no matter how mean the things he did to me. Because, as someone who shies away from his feelings, he just wants to protect me from mine.

Now that I think about it, the ice cream was a cheap trick. Asshole.

My smile towards him turned into a smirk when our cousins smacked the back of his head as he claimed the seat next to him.

Garret tried to retaliate as the rest of us greeted, “Hey Gackt.”

Ah, did I mention I have Rockstar cousins?
(More Under The Cut)

You know how when you’re on a plane, and you hate it whenever there’s an old woman nagging down the aisle, the ruckus going on somewhere at the back which you just can’t seem to spot and with someone on your right blasting music thinking it was for their own pleasure, but in reality, they just want you to know that they were listening to Avenged Sevenfold? Oh, and this is cherry on a cake; how a baby suddenly cries out of no where in the middle of the night, disturbing the hushed mummers of passengers. Yes?

Well, I was one of those babies.


I couldn’t have gotten any more used to the feeling of being jet lagged when one gets off a plane, not any more familiar with how bad the food taste and how turbulence really disturbed me, but I just act as if it was normal but in fact, I was terrified inside. But one couldn’t say that when one was an experienced flyer, can she?

I met my first friend on the plane. It was bits and pieces I’ve came to puzzle out just recently. Remember how a paragraph ago, I said I was one of the babies? Well, at that time I was about four. I know, I’m quite anti-social, looking at how I only made a friend at four. It wasn’t my first flight; I was in fact, by then, somewhat of an experienced flyer. Since my father worked for an airline, he got free tickets for the family annually.

Wait no- he just got free tickets for himself and our mom. I have five brothers- I know, typical fanfic character; these brothers are probably gonna save my life or something. But no. Well, not really.

The youngest out of the five is, at least, ten years older than I am. Which makes the oldest about twenty years, but that really didn’t matter at that time. I was four, having five brothers meant my parents had to purchase an extra six tickets for the rest of us. Maybe that was the reason why it looked like they were tempted to leave us at the airport.

So, as I was saying, I was about four at that time. It was nearing Christmas; we were on the way to somewhere to celebrate my Uncle’s birthday. He was born on Christmas day, which either meant that he was a Christmas miracle or that my Grandma really had OCD.

My memories could only feed me faintly, but what I do remember is that, every time we hit a cloud, I would give out this massive gurgle that disturbed most of the passengers on the flight. Some would scream, I would scream louder, others would give my parents disapproving looks- but with six children, growing accustomed to this sort of thing is only a tenth of parenting.

People hated me back then; especially passengers, but being four had its perks. Some that I couldn’t really use to save my life right now, but it helped me heaps while I was a toddler. And my brothers, they hated me as well. Not so much now, though sometimes they would abandon me in a parking lot across the state. Ah, they love me.

James Taenaka was about twenty one- teenage transitions, whatever they call it, he was going through it. He would get into the worse fights, even if one was given a choice, got grades so bad, my parents had to go through corrective work order for him just to up his game. This didn’t work much. I remembered once, he got into trouble so bad; he had to sit in the cell for five days because dad refused to bail him. They should’ve just thrown him in jail for a month so dad didn’t need to skive.

Evidently, James was like the mafia in our family, and his younger brothers respected him. He really didn’t do anything much for the rest of us though- wasn’t someone to go to your school and stop the bully, instead he’d ask us to go up to the dick and punch the living day lights out of him. Sometimes, it worked. Other times, we just got caught by our parents because the apparent bully told his mother about it and the mother complained to the principle. Till now, James still doesn’t forgive us for ratting him out; no matter how used he was to the beatings he received after that.

But as bad as a guy he is, he did introduce me to the friend I had been talking about. My parents had subjected me under his care- which was a bad idea in the first place, but my parents though nothing could really happen on a plane. As always, they were wrong.

Apparently, while listening to his beat-up walkman while accompanying me to the restroom, he had been caught by a man, mid-thirties with a little boy in his arms, spewing profanity like nobody’s business. Hell, if I was a parent back then, I would’ve scarred his face too. But of course I was too young to care, so I just stayed quiet hiding behind my brother’s pants while the adults had a war of words as I starred at the boy across from me.

With his fingers tracing his lips lightly, he could’ve been as harmful as an ant. What an ugly kid, I thought. Of course, back then, his looks wasn’t as well-developed as it is now. You know how kids have big eyes which really aren’t proportionate to their face size because their chin seems just a bit too small? Yeah, he was that ugly. But no matter how ugly he was, he had courage- nothing compared to mine.

He stepped forward, lengthening his arms towards mine for a handshake. His big eyes starred at me, hopeful. I started to smile a little, because no other kid had been so forward before. Normally, when James puts me in a sandbox to ‘mingle’, all the other parents seem to drag their children off to different directions. Because they knew my brother’s reputation, therefore his siblings were bound to end up the same. Those people are stupid.

And suddenly, the adults stopped arguing; I was in the clutch of his arms, the ugly, little minx. Skinship much, that would probably run through my head if I was a little bit older.

The older man sighed, “It seems that my son is taken by your daughter.”

“Daughter?! I’m twenty-three, cut me some slack.” My brother shot back, his tone unchanging from the argument they had before. But I guess he realized that if he didn’t stop this now, mom and dad probably will kill him, so he ended up speaking nicely to the ugly kid’s dad.

“She’s my sister.” James sighed, ruffling my hair as I escaped from the grasps of the monster child.

He still likes Skinship to this day, as to what I’ve seen on the variety shows he’s on. It’s quite disturbing really, if you think about it now. Of course when we were younger, it probably was too cute for anyone to handle. But Skinship at this age, especially for a man of his stature, it was unconventional. But his good looks redeemed him.

“Eh, ugly.” I called as I entered wedding boutique. Automatically, heads shot up and a familiar face beamed at me.

Compared to then, he really wasn’t really that ugly now. In fact, his looks were perfect, chiseled, award-winning smile, clear gentle eyes that had probably made millions of girls swoon, be it they liked him or not. He has this certain charisma that he holds no matter how shy he could get now compared to then; it told people that he was confident in himself. He was sure of what he did, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Pulling me into a tight hug, he whispered how much he missed me and how my looks never seem to change from the first time we’d met. His words were more charming now, but then again, he was a charming boy. I averted my gaze towards his friends as he introduced me to them one by one. The choruses of ‘I’ve heard a lot about you’ and ‘I’ve been dying to meet you’ met with my bow through the thirteen member group.

By now, you probably think that we were getting married. No, I’m twenty one, cut me some slack. And I would choose Edward Scissorhands over Choi Siwon any day, if given a choice. Actually, I’d pick Edward Scissorhands over any guy if he was real. However, that is beside the point.

My point? I guess my relationship with ‘ugly’ wouldn’t have ended up the way it is today if James had put up a fight. Because ironically, for whatever reason, my brother, his dad and my dad forged a friendship too, one that was to last about twenty odd years, if one was to count. And that’s why we’re still friends now. No matter how popular he got, no matter who he got married to.

Because at the end of the day, not many people have a close relationship with their first friend. Some might have even forgotten who that person is. And I am proud to say that Choi Siwon was, and still is, my friend.

“Hey!” Jimmy interjected, balancing the weight of his five-year-old on his hip, “Stop daydreaming and start contributing to your brother’s wedding day.”

Now let’s talk about my brothers.
(More Under The Cut)

Alright, pretty little fanfiction starts from now. :D

(More Under The Cut)