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basu-shokikita · 10 months ago

Text

Possibility, a Toki from a different reality

So @dalberadiata has an AU where Toki never left the cult and, therefore, never joined Dethklok. But the call of destiny is much stronger, so he accidentally catches a glimpse of Dethklok when they're visiting Norway and pretty much instantly becomes infatuated with Skwisgaar. The interest isn't one-sided and Skwisgaar teaches Toki about the world of music...and many other things. 🎸💘

I've been wanting to do something with this AU for a while because I'm fascinated with it. So, after many talks, I decided to write the scene where Toki wears non-religious clothing for the first time. More specifically, the clothes Skwisgaar lent him. Needless to say, this is a Skwistok AU 🥰

You can also read this work here!

Hat in his hands, Toki looked at his feet. Or rather, the lack of them. Covered by the dark robe he had been wearing everyday for the past 8 years, it was like he was floating on the floor. Some kind of ghost that still managed to trip on his non-existent feet sometimes.

His eyes kept going back to his legs, his arms, his torso, his neck even. All dutifully covered so there was nothing in sight, nothing to tell apart. Not even the top of his head was safe, protected by the hat of the same color of his robe. He was one undefined silhouette not to be confused by a mere mortal wearing vulgar clothes or showing skin. At least, that’s what his parents had taught him.

He was always to be covered, never to expose anything. Never to embarrass or as shame the family with his indecency. Long ago were the days where he was allowed to wear a simple t-shirt and shorts for his daily duties. He was a real member of the family now and he had to behave as such.

His eyes met his own hesitant reflection, worry scattered all over his features. Should he really be doing this?

“Eh, Toki,” Skwisgaar put down the black magazine he was reading. “Don’ts..think abouts it too much.”

Toki glanced at Skwisgaar in the reflection, and simply pursed his lips in response. He knew Skwisgaar meant well, but he had no way to understand. He had no idea what this meant for Toki, the weird guilt swelling in his gut just from his thoughts. The feeling that his parents, his dad especially, had always been right about him. That he was a failure to the family and the whole town.

He tossed the hat on his bed, as if that would make his dad’s eyes stop glaring at him from inside his mind. He wanted this. He wanted to do this.

“Okay.” He said, more to himself than Skwisgaar. “Turn around.”

“Whats?” Skwisgaar squinted like he hadn’t understood him.

“Turn around.” Toki repeated, this time gesturing with his fingers.

Skwisgaar grimaced for a good couple of seconds before throwing his palms into the air and turning around. “Talks about overkills…” He muttered under his breath but Toki still heard him.

Not that he cared, this wasn’t about Skwisgaar, it was about him and he wanted it his way. This was hard enough as it was, he didn’t need Skwisgaar’s prying eyes on top of it. Toki inhaled deeply and then closed his eyes. He counted until 10, an old trick to calm down his anxiety that he had learned from a nice old lady at the local market a couple of years ago. Then, he exhaled slowly and opened his eyes.

His stare wasn’t all quite confident, but he had to make do. Determined, he brought his hands to his collar and started unbuttoning his robe. It had exactly 16 buttons, so he took a while to undo them. The buttons were worn out and old so they always took several pulls to get off the buttonholes. One time, as a teen, Toki suggested getting new ones but his mother gave him a glare of disappointment that made him never want to ask again.

Undone, the robe fell to the floor and Toki’s first instinct was to immediately pick it up and carefully fold it to place it on his chair. However, his fingers hesitated when he was inches away from the floor.

He remembered the first time he refused to wear the robe, because it was uncomfortable to wear, to move in. Because he thought it was ugly, because he was tired of following this charade he had never wanted to be part of.

His dad ordered him to take off his clothes and made him stand in the snow for hours, with nothing to cover himself with. At some point he lost consciousness, and when he recovered it, he was shivering in his bed. His dad told him, just as cold as the snow that he had been surrounded by, that it was his own doing for rejecting the Lord’s graces.

A few years later, Toki fell off the mountain while running errands. He slipped with the ice and rolled for a few meters before crashing against a rock. He managed to limp his way down, though his sides really hurt and he was pretty sure he was bleeding from his leg. When his mother saw him, the first thing she was worried about wasn’t him, but the robe.

She made him take it off, quickly tossing the snow off it and washing it to remove Toki’s blood. Not even a glance of concern when Toki was stitching himself as she dried the robe next to the fire and carefully sewed the holes back. Toki watched his mother treat his robe with more care and gentleness than he had ever received from her.

When, just two years ago, Toki had taken his picture with them. It was his first official family picture. During his childhood, he had only seen his parents in the framed photographs around the house, never seen himself, like he wasn’t allowed to be part of it. So, he was pretty excited, to be finally acknowledged by them. He tried really hard not to smile when the town’s photographer came to take it.

However, when he saw the final picture, he felt nothing but cruel disappointment. Because the person in it, between his two parents, didn’t feel like him, it didn’t look like him. With the serious face and the dark robe, he looked like any other member of the sect. Nothing to tell him apart from the rest, and that’s exactly what his parents had wanted all along for him.

Toki straightened instead, not even giving a spare glance to the robe on the floor. He proceeded to unbutton his dark purple shirt, trying not to feel self-conscious when the skin of his chest began to reveal itself. He always undressed looking away from the mirror, it was a habit his parents had taught him. Dress with the mirror, undress without it. Flaunting one’s own skin, even in private, was sinful.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Skwisgaar’s head move. “I’m not ready yet!” He said, trying to inspire obedience but his voice came out squeaky instead.

Skwisgaar grumbled but he didn’t try to take a peek at least, and Toki was relieved. Undoing his pants took him way less time than the rest, and he just let it join the robe on the floor, along with the shirt.

The clothes Skwisgaar had lent him were resting on the edge of his bed and Toki hesitated again. Was this really him? Maybe he shouldn’t mess with the order after all. Maybe he shouldn’t be tempting…he didn’t even dare to think of the word. His eyes wandered around the room, until they finally fell on Skwisgaar’s mane.

Luscious bursts of golden cascading down his shoulders, leading to that black leather jacket that had enraptured him since he first saw him and the tight black pants that followed, finishing up with the elegant black boots of the same color. He was beautiful and, just as important, he was free. And Toki desired that freedom just as much as he desired him.

He made up his mind and grabbed the shirt first before forcing it down his neck and torso. Then, he spread the pants and shoved his legs inside. It was definitely tighter than he expected, and he had expected a lot. As he struggled to make his groin somehow fit comfortably between the fabric, he realized Skwisgaar was most likely a smaller size than he was. The last touch were the black combat boots that, ironically, were a tad bit too big for his feet.

With one last exhale, Toki took a glance at his reflection and almost didn’t recognize himself.

His usually hidden shoulder-length brown hair was exposed and slightly disheveled from the movement. His torso was adorned by a short-sleeved black shirt with an over-designed skull and the name of a band he didn’t know in red letters. The shirt had probably been loose on Skwisgaar but on Toki it fit just right. The faux leather pants made noise whenever he moved and, just like he suspected, made his crotch stand up. Packed with combat boots, they made him look like a rockstar, even if he could still see the reluctance in his expression.

Toki tried smiling, then he tried frowning and struck a pose. He put a hand on his hip and one foot in front of the other one and feigned the smugness he often saw on Skwisgaar. It made him laugh to see this much arrogance in his face, however, and he ended up cracking up in front of the mirror. Sighing, he stood straight and contemplated himself. It was weird, and it definitely didn’t look like his usual self. But maybe it could be.

Maybe this could be him.

Also, he could finally see his feet step on the floor, how crazy was that? Toki Wartooth, finally allowed to have visible lower limbs. Absolutely insane.

“Oh, heys.” Skwisgaar said, walking up to him with a smirk. “Has I met you befores?”

“Pfft.” Toki snorted, though couldn’t erase the coy smile on his face, especially not when Skwisgaar wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You looks good in my clothes.” He said, eyeing Toki’s body. His stare stayed for a little longer on Toki’s lower abdomen before it went up again. “Ja?”

Toki averted his gaze, chuckling lightly. “I look like you.” He said, feeling his cheeks heat up from Skwisgaar’s attention and proximity to him.

Skwisgaar took a whiff at his collarbone. “Smells like me toos.” There was something suggestive about his eyes, and Toki could’ve sworn the room was getting hotter despite being in the middle of winter. “Heh.” Skwisgaar seemed satisfied by the reaction and pulled away. “Wants to gets out of here?”

Toki didn’t expect that, though he wasn’t against it. “Where are we going?”

“There’s ans a metals show in the towns.” Skwisgaar said, his eyes were smiling at Toki with tenderness he hadn’t seen before. “I can gets us there.” His thumb slightly brushed Toki’s chin. “Hm? What you says?”

Light blue eyes got starry from the idea alone and Toki swallowed heavily. His first metal show ever…he imagined a raging crowd and killer instrumentals. An imposing vocalist growling incomprehensible lyrics, the chaos and sweat in the atmosphere…

His heartbeat sped up from anticipation and Skwisgaar smiled at him. His first metal concert would be with Skwisgaar of all people. Toki couldn’t help thinking it was the perfect date. A nod. “Let’s do it.”

Skwisgaar’s smile turned into a grin as he laced his fingers with Toki’s and dragged them away from the room. Toki allowed himself to be led, excitement bursting through his chest.

When he walked past the door frame he turned around and gave his old clothes one last look before leaving.

He would never look back.

#metalocalypse #toki wartooth #skwisgaar skwigelf #skwistok #my writing #tw religious guilt #tw child abuse #no beta we die like men etc #they're speaking norwegian in this btw which is why skwis is the only one making mistakes

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