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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years ago

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A/n:This has been on my drafts for too long now. Is not one of my best works but is certainly something that I thought a lot when I first read the chapter and comung to understand Pops and Kai relationship as father and son. I hope this not come as petty or ahitty like some works of mine because this one I meant it to be... special.

Allert for murder and suicide mentions

Only by a miracle

"Why if I do even need to ask for? Just bullshit ..." he asked, barely bothering to look in your direction while he watched the news ... at least try to pretend he cared.

After the raid of the hassaikai, the league of villains; especially because of Shigaraki; taking his arms, taking away what little significance was left for the poor man, Chisaki had simply put everything aside ... his interest in things and knowledge, his goal of "cleaning the world", even of at least care about his physical and especially mental state ... the reason why you two are having this conversation right now. The only thing that he seemed to not have lost hope or interested thankfully was you.

"I just thought that maybe it was something to help you ... "you answered quietly, gently approaching and sitting right next to him" a psychologist may be a good idea especially after everything ... happened. That co-worker of mine can help and- "

"With all due respect (Y / n), I'd rather rot in Tartarus than accept someone else's help ... After all," he sighed, an empty, melancholy look in his golden eyes "that's what I deserve . "

"Stop." you immediately spoke right away, eyes burning with the urge to cry at his words. "Please, we already had this conversation ... you don't deserve it." leaning your head on his shoulder you can feel how tense his body was but soon relaxed ... as if he had actually released a weight from his shoulders.

sighing, your boyfriend finally seemed to slowly return to the real world than the torment that had turned his head as he looked at you.

"You're going on yours at least I hope." you nodded, gritted your teeth and widened your eyes when you saw the familiar green hair of the boy responsible for literally almost beating Kai.

You tried to take control before Kai saw it but already feeling his body tensing and the way his shoulders started to shake you already knew that he had already seen the boy.

You barely remedy what you at least think of the boy named Deku ... upset and irritated because he beat your boyfriend along with the other almost hero Lemillion beat his boyfriend or pity and fear if Chisaki happened to find him. As much as he no longer had his arms, he was still strong ... you have already witnessed several tantrums and breakdowns of his in the last few monthswhwre he had torned the small apartment you two lived now down ... his depression and panic attacks and paranoia were horrible .... but with sure what hurt you the most was when he woke up from a nightmare ... feeling a torturous pain in the place where his arms were supposed to be ... but all this was psychological pain. kai knew how much it affected you, and knowing that you were too stubborn to leave him, he insisted that you do therapy instead of him.

"Let's...turn this off." you mumbled before taking the remote and turning off the tv after turning to him and massaging his shoulders until he saw that he had calmed down at least a little.

"You know ... how about you come with me tomorrow?" you commented, happy that you had finally unlocked him a little "The same place where my therapist is where he is hospitalized and-"

"No ... he would be the last person who would at least enjot my presence angel." you frowned, your hope to at least pay a visit to the poor elderly in a coma fails again. You knew the amount of guilt and sorrow Chisaki carried of putting Pops on a coma, but behind that cold facade and th walls he had constructed, you knew better... You knew that he his intentions truly weren't on the bad side, but even you had to agree he had gone way too far on his path.

Sighing, you stood up, making Kai look i to your eyes questionably before you kissed his cheek lovingly mumbling that you were going to make his favorite for the dinner, smiling sadly at how he sighed and leaned on you, mumbling how he didn't deserves you and such things.

You went to the kitchen before jumping at your notification on your cellphone and beaming happilh at your door frame.

"Ne ne! Hon!" You put the box you just had received and openes for him to see, hoping to see him lighten up a bit.

You smiled and almost teared up when he gave one look at the box and let out a weak chuckle, looking at you with adoration.

"Seems like I wont be needing feeding anymore." He commented as you jumped on him to cage his frame on a hug as tears threteaned to spill from your eyes.

That was the first time in months Chisaki had come close to even smilling... things were slowly starting to get better... but yet, you knew it was never going to return back the way it was... and the worst?

You knew that not only you felt something was missing.

The next day you woke up feeling your boyfriend's arms prototics holding you close to your chest, the back of your neck feeling the warmth of his breath while his lips lightly brushed your skin. You mumbled to yourself seeing the schedule and gently raising the fake arms for you to slip past them to get out of the bed. Uou smiled when you saw and heard how Chisaki complained in his sleep at the loss of your warm, getting close to him and giving him a kiss first on his temple then lightly on his lips, stroking his hair for good measure.

Getting ready and leaving a note for Kai to see when he wakes up, you left your apartment for another appointment with your therapist ... after of course going to a flower shop.

"Good luck with your father-in-law, young lady"

"Thank you doctor" you responded by leaving the office and walking through the hospital corridors, avoiding the eyes of doctors and nurses when you passed and went to the room where he was. You entered with the permission of the secretary, your heart and body always seemed to freeze when seeing Pops in the vegetative state, machines saving him from death but not bringing him back from the coma that Kai had put him in.

"Good morning Pops." you whispered, exchanging the dead flowers on the table next to the machines to replace them with the new ones you had bought before your consultation "I came as every time."

Taking a chair and dragging it to the side of the bed you sat down with a sigh before smilling at the sleeping elder.

"... we miss you. All of us, both subordinates and me and ... Kai." you bit your lip before you started saying "I don't know if you can really hear me every time I say this, but I swear to you that Kai just wanted to make you proud... Pops if you knew how much he suffers and regrets doing this to you ... " you wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your sweater. You looked at the old man's face ... resting on the hospital bed for months now.

"Doctors say that even at your age you are a fighter." you giggled before returning your attention "... I tried to bring him here but he feels so guilty that he has no courage to come face you again .... please if one day you wake up again, forgive him, please... you were the only one he trusted and respected since childhood ... "you sighed before taking the bag and giving the elderly a small and careful hug as he used to do while he was awake" I ask a thousand pardons for him... I’ll be back next week Pops, maybe I can get him to come here next time! " you giggled sadly before frowning. Saying a little goodbye, you went towards the door ... but when you touched the maceneta you froze, hearing the sound of the mattress twinks and the fabric of the sheets moving ... looking slowly over your shoulder you gasped in astonishement and shock, bringing your hands to cover your mouth while your eyes watered when you saw tired gray eyes and the little smirk that the elderly person gave you in your bed even with numerous tubes in it.

"How good it is to see you again my dear. How long have I been away?"

"Sir is truly a miracle that you woke up from this coma honestly." The doctor said in astonishment as you awkwardly finsighed mumbling explaining all what had happened during the elder's absence.

"The shie hassaikai members are ALL on jail?" Pops asked calmly but you cringed hard at seing how wide were his eyes as you nodded.

"We're... trying to pay Chro- I m-mean Kurono! To get out of prison though... is a start." You clenched your jaw as Pops muttered something to God as he burried his face on one of his hands.

"Well." The doctor smiled at you both as she made her exit "You still have to spend one week to check up, but soon you will be able to go away wuth your..?"

"Daughter in law." The elder sighed, finally lifted his head up to show his gratitude to the medic before she left. Looking back at you "How is my granddaughter? Eri? I suppose you didn't know about the plan that boy had on his mind."

"Y-yeah.. She is on the hands of the hero Eraserhead, as far as I know of, the U.A took her custody to help her to control her quirk for real this time." You grabbed his hand and squezzed assuringly "She is on good hands Pops. I promise you."

"For once." He sighed before giving you a smile. Your phone buzzed and you excused yourself to pick it up.

"Hey hon.." you spoke as Pops furrowed hsi eyebrows, mentioning with his hands that he also wanted to hear.

"Where are you? Your apointment should had ended by one half an hour ago?" The nonchantly voice of Chisaki made you worry about how Pops body seemed tense as he montioned for you to jot speak a thing about him.

"U-uh... it got longer?"

"You're shit at lying, you know that right?" Pops smirked while you blushed a bit.

"Sorey sorry.." you rubbed the back of your neck a bit "I-I went to that place where they sell those sweets you like, that's all."

You heard a sigh and frowned at how tired your boyfriend sounded as he spoke on a vulnerable tune you had grew used to on the past few months... but Pops widened his eyes, almost not recognizing the vouce behind that cellphone.

"Just hurry up and get back home... I feel like one of those is about to come again.." he spoke as if that were a burden, you hummed immediately promising him to be home soon before saying how much you lobed him and hanging up.

"One fo those?"

"For these past few months he had gotten depression and some PTSD attacks..."

"Hironic." The eldery sarcastically chuckled with bitter as he leaned up his back on the mattress "He was the one to put my grandauther through hell, put me on a coma, ruin the whole bussines of my family and now, he is the one with depression." You furrowed your eyebrows at that. Taking a breath in, knowing that was something that could happen you talked back.

"I know the things he had done were wrong Pops... but believe me when I say he just wanted to-"

"(Y/n) my dear. As much as I know how generous you are, you can't actually try to be on Chisaki's side this time." He glared at you as you gulped "I lost count on how much I tried talking him out of those absurd ideas of his, but as always a stubborn one, he continued on and left the path I tried to teach him for years."

"Well, with all respect sir, you cant totally blame him if he was raised by a mafia boss no less." You grumbled as the elder narrowed his eyes at you for the first ever time.

"I taught him manners. He was the one who didn't followed them. Preffering to take this dark and horrific path. The yakusa is superior to villains and what he does? Becomes one of them despite fighting others that we are not? Is he bipolar now?!"

"Pops please just listen to me... We both know he suffered before you took him in, he feels in debt with you ever since that day."

"And he retributes me with this. Putting me on a coma."

"Pops I-"

"Stop defending him kid!" He yelled and you flinched away from him in shock "That man put my own grandaughter through hell and used her as some lab rat experiment, and now not only i lost my own daughter but her as well!"

Silence consumed the room... you felt at the verge of crying before taking a huge breath in determination. You wont let him, you wont let the man who created the one you love speak like that without you giving him a reason.

"Kai done these things, thats for sure ... but his whole life he felt trapped by the fact that he never got to repay you. He had absurd ideas for that? Of course, I will not cover up his errors. But I am not going to let even you Pops speak like that. Since you already knew he wasn't listening to you, why didn't you take him away from Shie Hassaikai's work and just put more pressure on him saying that he would, one day, be the new boss? Your sucessor no less?! " he remained his glare to his hospital room window "... he just wanted you to be proud of him .. so he still protects Shie Hassaikai's honor ... Pops do you even know that he lost only his arms still fighting to give you something?!" You cried as the old man opened his eyes wide and finally looked back at you "For the past months he and I have been in our personal hell, he has nightmares every night! Do you even happen to remember that you had to comfort him the first night he slept at your house? imagine the attack only ten times worse! do you even know how it was to see him begging me for me to kill him ?! "you sobbed while the man was still in shock to hear what you said and your state.

"my dear why are you still going through this?" he said almost breathlessly while you wiped your tears, almost leaving the room.

"Because I love your son ... and I know he loves you in his own weird and antisocial way ... Please I know that it is very difficult to forgive him, but I beg Pops ... try it... both of you only have each other now...." you sighed and left the room without even saying goodbye to him or the nurses asking if you were okay.

Two weeks had passed after that. You remained a secret that Pops woke up from his coma to prevent Chisaki to fell on one of those nerve train racking thoughts of his...

"You win this ever time, is not fair." You whined as your boyfriend smiled, replacing the many pieces back on the shoji board back again.

"So why do you even still insist on playing it then with me no less dearest?" He asked, not exactly expecting an answer before he froze at the way you kept looking at him with love.

"Because is your favorite game. And I love seing you happy while playing it." You giggled at the immediate scoff to hide his blush as he closed his eyes, his black mask preventing you to show his smile as he mumbled an affectionate "crazy woman".

You giggled even more at that. Things were surely better than they could have been. Thanks to your teraupist you were also able to help your own boyfriend... his attacks had stopped and you never felt more relieved to see that the bags from beneath his eyes were slowly dissapearing.

"Ugh... im hungry!!!" You whined loudly again, rolling over to lay your head on his lap as he looked down at you with an arched eyebrow.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Take out." You proclaimed before he flipped your nose.

"Absolutely not. Is disgusting." He growled as you whined and put your bottom lip out.

"One time it won't hurt! Pleaseeee???? Please my devil??" You smiled mentally at seing the tip of his ears going red "please my handsome cutie softie delicious-" he hushed you with one of his fake finger son your lips as he growled.

"Fine fine, have your way brat. Jesus Christ you're so spoiled." He offered you one of his last used, that the police couldn't track, credit cards as you lowered his mask to kiss him.

"Says who again?" You giggled before sighing in bliss when he brought you close, you stradling his lap as you circled his neck with your arms, contained your noises as he trailed his kisses down to your jaw.

It has been so long since you two had-

You both growled when your cellphone ringed, but Kai still stood on his track as he mumbled in your ear for you to pick up... although he still continued to carres your thighs as he vould feel them again and lay kisses in the crook of your neck.

You widened your eyes though whem you saw that it was from the hospital... you had beem visiting and making conpany to Pops even despjte the argument you had gotten to him, but now it seemed he was free to go... shit. You couldn't hide this anymore from Kai.

Although you gasped back to the current reality when you felt a certain... hardness on his lap.

"If you tell me you have to go Im setting this place on fire." He mumbled in your neck as you whined. That surely must be the worst cockblock you two had in your relationship. You nodded as he growled again, making yourself out of his laps, he let you go hesitantly.

"What is even about this time?" He said nonchantly as he adjusted his hair back.

"I... have to go to the hospital."

"Is that therapist of yours again?" He asked in annoyance as you left in a hurry, crossing his arms and auspecting at your attitudem

"I-It will be quick!"

"You didn't answer my-" and the door closed while he sighed loudly looking up at yhe ceilingx having to deal with the problem you had caused down there "Fucking brat." He growled out loud standing up with a hiss to go to the shower.

The drive back from the hospital was so awkward... the pregnant silence making you go crazy as Pops remained quietly the entire ride.

"I thought a lot about what you said once my dear." You yelped and looked at him in surprise.

"Eh?"

He smiled before looking at you with a serene expression.

"I was never once a good father example for both my actual daughter or Chisaki. Part of me didn't want to believe, but Kai needed more than just my help after I took him in... Guess he took on my stubborness."

"N-no, that was not what I meant-"

"Relax kid... I just recalled what you said back there when you left. There is nothing left for me asides from trying to at least solve things with Chisaki... I cant thank you enough, both of me and him weren't on the right side, so is not on place of me to judge him... specially when I tortured a childhood friend of my once."

... wait whAT-?!

The train stopped and you hesitantly took Pops hand when he offered it to help you stand up.

You two walked before you stopped by the front of your apartment complex as you looked at Pops uncertainly, but he only nodded with a smile.

"Is time for me to speak with him after who knows how long."

You shakily entered your apartment as coincidentally Kai emerged from the tiny hall, drying his hair with a towel, already dressed on his casual clothes as he opened one of his eyes to look at you.

"Better have a good explanation or else punishment is going to be extra harder." He smirked devilish and you would have gotten turn on if it weren't from right after he widened his amber eyes as if he had saw a ghost as Pops entered, crossing his arms as he looked back at Chisaki.

"Hello, Chisaki." He spoke seriously before smilling at how the man he created for years now seemes as a fragile boy who had been caught for doing sonething silly.

You aproached Chisaki slowly before taking his hand, making him look at you to remind him it wasn't one of his paranoia events... Pops was there. Smilling at him.

It was real.

The elder aproached, a small still present on as he looked at Chisaki.

"You seem way better than the last time I saw you. I'm glad to see that."

He couldn't speak, his throat was sore, it hurted too mcuh to even breath near this man again. He knew what had happened, so why on hell was this old geezer smilling at him iut of all people?! He could feel his eyes start to burn as he clenched on your hand before flinching violently when a hand that wasn't yours rested on his shoulder.

"I'm not mad at you. Is all in the past, I know your intentions weren't what happened... and I forgive you, Kai." He pulled Chisaki for a hug and the man himself tensed accidentaly letting go of your hand and lifting his metal arms in the air awkwardly. "But I hope one day you can still forgive me for not being a good father to you... my son."

That was the last straw for the man once called himself the name of his quirk, to break completely. He cried, silently, but the river of tears falling down his eyes was still there as he clenched the back of the man as he trembled... muttering how he hated himself and how much he was ashamed and sorry as Pops also apologized.

You smiled at the scene, trying to left the room but failing when your boyfriend and Pops called you back instantly... these two had still long to talk... but Kai still wanted you there. With him. As he always wanted.

After all, you and Pops were the only concept of family he ever had learned.

#bnha villains #bnha #bnha characters #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #chisaki kai #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul x reader #overhaul #fanfic overhaul #my writings #zuffer writings

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yooseung · 4 years ago

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( park jimin, cis man ) have you seen YOOSEUNG HO ? i heard HE is a WAITER at MAL’S DINER. they’re TWENTY-FIVE years old and they’ve been living in san verto for SEVEN YEARS. they tend to be CLEVER & DOGGED, but rumor has it they can also be SPITEFUL & SELF-CENTERED.

basics

name: yooseung ho

nicknames: yoo, seungie

pronouns: he/him/his

birthdate & age: 1st of november, 25 years old

current residence: living with yohan park at a spacious apartment

sexual orientation: bisexual (leans towards men :nauseous_face:)

childhood home: brooklyn, new york

strengths:

+ quick-witted

+ loyal

+ straightforward

weaknesses:

– obnoxious

– dogmatic

– quick-tempered

likes: black coffee, overwatch, sunday roast, cotton candy, caramel, trashy pop music

dislikes: early mornings, sports, heights, clowns, horror films, books, sea food

tattoos: yes :~)

piercings: multiple piercings on his ears and a navel piercing

fam background that i copy and pasted from my notes app </3 (tw: brief mention of abuse)

- yooseung’s childhood was polarising, to say the last. in the eyes of yoojin and junghoon ho, both more convinced by the prospect of heirs than the prospect of children, their son was little more than a vague annoyance on his best days and an intolerable menace on his worst. though extended family and close friends threw around words like “charming” and “handsome”, yooseung was every bit as likely to be beaten with his mother’s velveteen slippers and his father’s belt as he was to have his cheeks pinched and his praises sung.

- their lives were ruled by tradition – a very unhealthy amount of it, and some very backward views. eight-year-old yooseung felt awkward at family gatherings and was unable to form bonds or conversations with his family.

- for all his too-clever comments and small acts of rebellion, however, yooseung secretly longed to please his parents. more than anything, perhaps, he wanted to make them happy in the hopes that it might sway them to affection. needless to say, that dream was never realized and yooseung, to the surprise of no one, became an arrogant and volatile product of his upbringing.

misc

- yooseung moved to san verto as soon as he turned 18, coerced by his parents to pursue a bachelor’s degree in business administration, except he dropped out of college after failing most of his classes. he isn’t smart, he hates reading, absolutely hates studying, and enjoys spending most of his time playing computer games and shopping

- his parents got Absolutely Pissed and financially cut him off, which prompted yooseung to begin working at mal’s diner RIP

- he is very materialistic and has a habit of splurging on expensive clothes and living a lavish lifestyle ,,, doesn’t really have self-control ,,, mans probably got a sugar daddy/mommy somewhere ngl because he only works at the diner four times a week and streams himself playing overwatch for fun (he’s steadily gaining followers because he’s really good at it)

- can’t live without a pack of cigarettes. when he began smoking as a teenager, it was just something that he had picked up from the other kids in an effort to fit in. however, he quickly found himself attached to the sensation, finding temporary relief and relaxation in the bad habit. throughout the years this has switched from a casual, social habit to something that he gravitates towards whenever he’s stressed, anxious, or needs to occupy his mind

- he doesn’t really have a dream as of the moment, but is flirting with the idea of becoming an e-sports player

- he’s v arrogant, is practically in love with himself, and makes fun of people all the time :sob: it’s how he protects himself from getting hurt, though it’s a very unhealthy method

- that being said, he’s had a pretty bad record with relationships. no matter how serious things became, he dated with an emergency exit strategy in place. despite the trail of broken hearts he’s created, he finds comfort behind the walls that keep him emotionally guarded

- but as mean as he is, he values and is extremely protective of the close friends he has

- also a potty mouth. :/

wcs? <3 rly rackin my brain rn these r all i can come up with for now im sorey

- smth spicy, like exes that ended on bad terms (i doubt yooseung would end a relationship on good terms honestly) or fwbs that kind of got serious so yooseung dipped because he hates Feelings awh </3

- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the one (1) person who curb stomped on his heart n is practically one of the causes of yooseung’s fear of commitment :flushed: could be someone he knows from high school, or could also be someone he met after moving to san verto (he was still shiny and dumb and easy to trick) haha who gnna give me this... <3

- a childhood friend from brooklyn (or somewhere else i can change stuff up)!!!!!!!! could be estranged, could also have kept in touch with yooseung bc facetime calls & letters are real cute

- neighbors!!!!!!!! maybe a neighbor yooseung likes to annoy bc he thinks they’re hot and he wants to sleep with them <3 UIERUIEWROUEWUR

- platonic stuff like unlikely friends, someone he met in university that he still speaks to, a mal’s diner regular? someone he plays overwatch with?

- a good influence... he needs it. He Really Needs It. he needs someone who can tell him that its ok 2 b nice to strangers sometimes <3

- yooseung is usually the devil on his friends’ shoulders but mayhaps it’d be fun if he had someone to be Bad with we can plot this out 4 more details

- enemies <3 he is Very easy to hate <3

- i have a wcs tag here <3

IF ANY OF THESE INTEREST YOU, HIT ME UP! SOME ARE MORE DETAILED THAN OTHERS BUT ALL OF THEM ARE OPEN TO MODIFICATIONS TBH, WE CAN DEVELOP THEM HOWEVER WE WANT :) FEEL FREE TO CHOOSE MULTIPLE PLOTS TOO..,.,. GO CRAZY

ps if u have any wcs yooseung can snag please im/dm me <3

#— about.#reposting bc my theme wasnt cooperating with the previous post format

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sheps-shepherd · 5 years ago

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Title: Perfectly Perfect

Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey; Mikleo & Sorey

Rating: T (for non-explicitly implied sexual content)

Written for @sormikweek 2020 Day 8: New Moon - New beginnings; Blank page / El Nath - Neutrality for good or evil; Symbolically called the Shepherd

A/N: This is by far my favorite piece that I wrote for the entire week. It's also the piece that started the whole idea to use this week to expand this universe that I'm really excited to build on and share. Expect not only the rest of the week's prompts, but many more independent works from this world.

"This world" being a BBC Merlin AU in which magic is illegal, Mikleo is a sorcerer hiding who he is, and Sorey is a prince living his best sunshine life. In case you haven't heard that spiel already.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

“What if I changed my name?”

Mikleo turned from the spellbook he was reading with a smile on his lips, sure that Sorey would greet him with a matching one. But Sorey wasn’t even looking at him, let alone smiling. He was standing by the window, arm braced against the stone wall above it, staring out into the courtyard with a shadowed look on his face. Mikleo’s smile faded. He’d been catching Sorey with that kind of look on his face more often these days than he liked.

“Where did that come from?” Sorey offered a half-hearted shrug and stayed silent. Mikleo didn’t buy it for a second. He closed the book and stood from his spot, crossing over to the other side of the window. “Is this about the coronation tomorrow?” Sorey winced like he’d been hit, which was as good as an admission in Mikleo’s eyes. “Sorey, it’s okay to be nervous-”

“That’s not it,” Sorey said, shaking his head insistently. “It’s not nerves.”

“Then why have you been thinking about changing your name?”

Sorey’s jaw worked like he was wrestling with the words inside his mouth. Mikleo waited patiently, leaning against the wall as he watched his prince.

King, Mikleo mentally corrected himself. Today was the last day that Sorey would be a prince. Although, in Mikleo’s opinion, Sorey had been a king for a long while already; it just hadn’t been official until now.

“Because I don’t think I can do it.” Mikleo opened his mouth, ready with another protest. But Sorey finally turned to look at him, and the shadows hiding in the green of his eyes made him pause.

Sorey finished, “I don’t think I can take the crown if I still have his name.”

“Sharing his name doesn’t mean anything. You couldn’t be more different than him.”

“I know that. I know that, but….” Sorey squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. “Mikleo, I can’t stop thinking about it. And if I can’t stop thinking about it, then how can I expect anyone else to?”

Mikleo reached out, placing his hand on Sorey’s shoulder as gently as he could. The muscle beneath his palm was taut with what he now understood was several days worth of stress and anxiety - this had been on Sorey’s mind for a while, probably ever since Velvet’s abdication.

No. Probably longer than that.

“You’re not Artorius, Sorey,” Mikleo said. The name tasted vile on his lips, and hearing it made Sorey flinch again. “You could never be. The darkness in him didn’t come from his name. It doesn’t work like that.”

“But that’s what I’m talking about,” Sorey argued weakly, cracking his eyes open and peeking back over at him. “It feels like that, doesn’t it? It’s like it’s a curse now. No one wants to say it. No one wants to hear it, and I’m supposed to accept his crown in front of the entire kingdom like I don’t know that’s what everyone watching will be thinking?” He pushed himself away from the wall, away from Mikleo. His hand went up to tangle in his hair. “I won’t do that, Mikleo. I can’t.”

“Sorey,” Mikleo said, as calmly as he could with his heart racing so frantically in his chest. “This is your destiny. You accepting the crown tomorrow was the only thing in Camlann’s history ever meant to be set in stone. And no, not everyone is going to understand that, but you will. You do.”

“But what does knowing that change? That becoming king of the kingdom Arthur broke should make me feel good? That doing it with his name should make me feel proud? Because I don’t feel anything but afraid.” Sorey raked his fingers the rest of the way through his hair, the strands sticking out wildly in their wake. Mikleo had always poked fun about how Sorey’s hair seemed to constantly look some semblance of messy, but there was nothing charming about seeing it that way now. “Arthur wasn’t even my real father, but I’m still destined to get stuck with all his mistakes? I know destiny means a lot to you, Mikleo, but that doesn’t solve anything.”

Mikleo’s magic stirred in his chest. It trembled in the anxious atmosphere that had filled the room like it understood it had become a topic of their conversation. No one knew the burdens that came with destiny as much as Mikleo did. Not even Sorey.

His magic strained against his fingertips. He knew what it wanted to do. He let it.

“You aren’t destined to be stuck with any of Artorius’ mistakes.” Mikleo looked back to the window and felt his magic rush out of him. The latch clicked and the window pane creaked open on purposely rusty hinges. A gust of wind flew into the room, buoyed by the sweep of his magic as Mikleo focused back on his king.

As he expected, Sorey’s eyes were wide; he still got starstruck every time he saw Mikleo’s eyes flash amethyst, even though he’d seen it plenty of times at this point. The breeze blew through Sorey’s hair, righting the strands that had been tousled in his frustrated pulling, circling around his head like a halo until it deemed every piece in its place. It sent his earrings fluttering across his cheeks as it swept down towards his shoulders and dispersed with a flutter of his sleeves. Sorey still stared at him, wonder replacing the shadows that had haunted his eyes. Mikleo stared back.

“You’re destined to fix them.”

Sorey - who was Mikleo’s destiny, and always would be - blinked slowly. Mikleo watched the anxiety bleed out of him, watched as his shoulders dropped and his fingers uncurled and his face softened. He suddenly looked exhausted, but it was better than seeing him look so hopeless.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, okay, that was what I needed to hear. Thanks, Mikleo.” He brought a hand back to his face and rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

That sounded more like the Sorey he knew. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I wish you had dumped this on me sooner.” He crossed the room again, and this time Sorey was there to greet him with a hand at his waist and a sheepish smile. “But I should have realized this wasn’t as easy on you as you were making it seem, so I’m sorry.”

Sorey opened his mouth, paused, then closed it again, like he had changed his mind about what it was he wanted to say. “It’s not easy,” he admitted finally, and Mikleo was sure he’d scrapped some kind of I’m fine, don’t worry about me speech. “It’s… been a lot to process. And sometimes it feels like I don’t have enough time to go through it all.”

“You don’t have to go through it all right now,” Mikleo said. “And you don’t have to go through it by yourself, either.” He placed his hand on Sorey’s arm, squeezing carefully. “I know Velvet’s leaving, and I’m not her, but-”

“I don’t want you to be like Velvet.” Sorey reached up to press his other hand against Mikleo’s cheek. “I want you to be you. Who else is going to tell me when I’m in over my head or being too dumb?”

“Velvet, but I see your point.” And his Sorey really was here again, because he threw his head back and laughed. A full, rich sound that made Mikleo think of sunshine - or maybe there were just things about Sorey that still left him starstruck, regardless of how many times he’d seen them. “As long as you’re okay with me taking up that mantle,” he continued once the other’s laughter died down, “I suppose that settles that.”

“I’m more than okay with it.” Sorey cocked his head then, staring at Mikleo with a fond grin on his face. “Sometimes thinking about all the destiny stuff makes my head spin, but I know it’s not all bad. After all, destiny brought me you….” His green eyes sparkled with mischief as he snuck his thumb beneath Mikleo’s fringe of hair, tracing across the skin of his forehead right beneath where his circlet rested. “...Luzrov Rulay.”

Like clockwork, Mikleo’s magic rose to the call. It swirled wildly in his chest, an involuntary spark that shot through his bones. The feeling wasn’t as alarming to him now as it had been when he was young with no idea of where it was coming from, which had resulted in his mother gifting him the circlet in the first place. Mikleo hadn’t felt that terrifying slipping feeling again until he met Sorey, although he eventually realized it wasn’t a rebelling of his magic, but instead an answer. The tampering enchantment he wore did nothing to block Sorey’s voice if he called, and Mikleo’s magic would never ignore their king. It pulsed in his palms, spiked aches in his knuckles on its way down to his fingertips, and then Mikleo felt the tell-tale rush that came with the beginning of a spell.

The window pane swung back and closed itself. The latch clicked. The drapes drew themselves shut with just enough of an opening for a sliver of light to keep the room dimly lit. But Mikleo still saw the stars that twinkled to life in Sorey’s eyes, also like clockwork as his own eyes flickered back to amethyst.

Sorey’s thumb moved again, now tracing a gentle path below his eye, watching intently for the moment the amethyst faded back to his natural blue. “There we go,” he murmured, and his magic sang from the praise as it settled back into his blood where it belonged.

Which then shot up to Mikleo’s face and burned his cheeks. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“You know that I hate it when you use magic around me when I can’t fully appreciate it. It was only fair.”

“I was just trying to remind you.” He cleared his throat. “Which it seems I did.”

“You did.” Sorey’s other hand came up, and he tipped Mikleo’s head back as he properly cupped his face. “You definitely did.”

Sorey kissed him, and his magic simmered happily. It was all Mikleo could do to hold onto Sorey’s arms as he leaned into him, all warmth and comfort as Sorey thanked him in his own way.

Mikleo let him take his fill, felt his head begin to get that floaty feeling that came with Sorey’s more intense kisses; the kind of kisses they shared when they were alone that often built into something more, which were finally becoming more common between them, much to Mikleo’s delight. But when he felt one of Sorey’s hands leave his cheek in favor of moving down to press against the small of his back, Mikleo reluctantly twisted his face away, and brought his own hand up to keep the other at bay when he tried to follow.

“Wait,” he said, and Sorey’s pout was immediate. Mikleo pointedly ignored how cute it made him look. “The name thing. You need to tell me more about that first, before we get distracted.”

Sorey blinked. “Oh. That.” His brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to spiral into what it did. I really did just want your opinion.” His fingers flexed nervously at the small of Mikleo’s back. “So, what do you think? About maybe changing my name?”

“I think the question you should be asking me,” Mikleo answered, “is what I think of whatever name you’ve already picked out.”

Sorey was surprised enough to take a step back, and Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Sorey, I’m not stupid. You wouldn’t have brought it up to me at all if you hadn’t gotten that far with it.” The pout returned. Mikleo ran his hands up Sorey’s arms, settling on his shoulders where he gave him a light shake. “Come on, tell me.”

“I really can’t get anything past you, can I?” Sorey sighed and straightened his shoulders. “I thought about just taking Velvet’s name. I mean, it would have made sense. The Crowe family is technically the one that should be on the throne. But.... I didn’t like the way that made me feel either. I’m not really Velvet’s brother any more than I was Arthur’s son.”

Mikleo opened his mouth, but the hand on his cheek shifted to cover it before he could speak. “And I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Sorey hurried on. “I just mean I think I’m finally ready to make my own name. I don’t want to be defined by Velvet any more than I do Arthur. I think it’s time I finally start just being Sorey, don’t you think?”

He took his hand away, dropping it awkwardly onto the bend of Mikleo’s elbow. Sorey stared at him with the most hopeful look Mikleo had ever seen on his face, and he didn’t know if it was possible to fall in love with someone twice, but their relationship had braved greater unknowns than that.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I do.”

The smile that split across Sorey’s face put the sun itself to shame.

“I like Shepherd,” he said, voice quiet like it was taking everything he had not to burst with excitement. “I thought it fit nice. I came from something simple, just like all the people I’ll be leading. I want them to know that.”

Mikleo nodded as his eyes stung with pride. Hearing that made him prouder than any ancient script of destiny ever could. His destiny was to make sure Sorey took the crown tomorrow, but Sorey made himself worthy of it all on his own.

“Sorey Shepherd.” It was like magic, sizzling on his tongue. “I like it, too. It’s perfect.”

You’re perfect, Mikleo didn’t say. Sorey looked happy enough to cry without hearing that part.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re right; it suits you.”

The pressure that suddenly appeared at the small of his back told him what Sorey’s next move was going to be, and he held up his hand again before Sorey could swoop back in. “But,” he chimed, maybe just a little teasingly as he watched impatience paint Sorey’s face, “to answer your original question, I think the whole thing’s a great idea. You of all people deserve a new beginning.”

Sorey smiled at him, something softer and more tender but just as warm. It matched the way he cradled Mikleo’s face. “You’re my new beginning,” he murmured. “You always were. You always will be.”

And while Mikleo would normally shove him for saying something so horribly cheesy, he let Sorey have that one. He wouldn’t have been able to stop the stupid smile that spread across his own face anyway.

Sorey’s fingers twitched against his cheek. “If there’s anything else from that spiel you want to talk about, you should say it now. Because once I kiss you again, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

Mikleo shook his head with absolutely nothing but fondness. He glanced over Sorey’s shoulder, eyeing the lock on his bedroom door, and his magic rushed to do his bidding. He heard the heavy click a moment later. The drapes were next with a glance over Sorey’s other shoulder, the sliver of light vanishing and shrouding them in darkness - but only for as long as it took Mikleo to light the candles on the walls.

The flickering flames sent shadows dancing across Sorey’s face, and Mikleo took a moment to appreciate the way he looked, just like he knew Sorey was doing as he felt his magic curl within him once more.

“No,” he answered, belatedly. “You can kiss me again.”

And Sorey, his sweet and shining king, was true to his word.

The next morning, His Majesty Sorey Shepherd of Camlann was formally sworn to the throne. The crown glittered where it nestled in his brown hair, caught by the sunlight streaming in through the windows as he stood on the dais, surrounded by his people. Rose and Zaveid were the ones who started the chant, passing it along to Velvet and Alisha and soon to everyone in the room. But Mikleo whispered his piece to himself, and his magic glowed with understanding. They would do everything they could with every bit of power they had to make sure the wish was fulfilled.

Long live the king.

#talesoffanfic #sormikweek2020 #sormik #sorey #mikleo #merlin au #tales of zestiria

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somefinelipstickonthatpig · 5 years ago

Photo

rated: g+

fandom: Tales of Zestiria

prompt: "Dragged by the Ankle”

requested by: @oliverniko

SO MY AMAZING FRIEND OLLIE REQ’D “Dragged by the Ankle” W/ MIKLEO AND ORIGINALLY I wasn’t thinking to do something to fulfill it from my AtlA AU...which is clearly where I went wrong because as soon as I thought about Mikleo from AtlA AU I got Inspired and figured out Exactly What To Do

unfortunately, the actual moment Mikleo gets dragged by his ankle is pretty short but uh he still doesn’t have the best of times

ft. “beach oval” necklaces, kiddos Mikleo & Sorey, some mean bullies, & the first time Sorey firebends

- o - o - o -

Of Promises and Necklaces [Read on AO3]

- o - o - o -

The children of the Southern Water Tribe could be cruel.

They knew why Sorey and Zenrus’ tent sat outside of their small community’s snow walls. They never let Sorey forget as to why.

The name-calling and the snowballs only came whenever an adult wasn’t looking.

There were days Sorey would run to Zenrus in horrible tears, gasping about the other children’s laughter and unkind words. Even with all of his age and wisdom, Zenrus could only sigh and say, “It is not you these hostilities are aimed at, Sorey.” He would wrap his arms around the small boy, pull him into his lap, and mutter, “They have been hurt by an entity bigger than yourself and bigger than themselves. And now, for the first time in a long time, they finally have a target they can focus these negative energies on. It is not you, my boy. It is what you represent.”

Sorey clung to those words like he would the lantern Zenrus wanted him to carry around during those horrible stretches of weeks when the sun would forget to shine. It was just a hope, an idea, but one he so desperately craved: the thought that perhaps he didn’t have to be hated and feared.

Above all, Sorey longed so dearly not to be feared.

- o - o - o -

A small smile worked its way onto Mikleo’s face as he watched Sorey set down his lantern beside his knee. The small flame within the cage of glass flickered, casting a soft orange glow to the thick ice around them. “You really do carry that thing around with you everywhere, huh?”

Sorey’s green eyes fluttered up to Mikleo’s violets. A bright flush dusted his cheeks, and Mikleo knew it wasn’t because of the snow. Sorey looked back down. His mitted hands dug around in his coat pockets. “I guess so.”

“Why?”

Sorey shrugged. He huffed a small cloud of air out in frustration and withdrew his hands out of the deep folds of his coat. He slipped off a glove and stuck the freed hand back in to keep searching. “Gramps said I should. It kind of helps me not feel so bad when the sky gets dark for a long time. Y’know?”

Mikleo tilted his chin up. “But the sun’s been out today.”

“Yeah.”

“So why are you carrying it around today?”

Sorey shrugged again.

There was a brief pause before he answered, “Gramps said to keep carrying it around, I guess. I don’t really know why.”

Mikleo fought the small snicker that wanted to rise out of him. “Haven’t you asked him?”

“Well, yeah, but he says I’ll find out when I find out. Whatever that means,” Sorey mumbled under his breath. His face pinched tight, before he brightened with relief. “Ah-ha! There it is!”

“There what is?”

“What I dragged you out here for!” There was something radiant and hopeful in Sorey’s face as he pulled out a small blue ribbon from his pocket. At its center, dangling with every jerk of the brunet’s hand, swung a crudely-formed and round pendant with an unfamiliar pattern shakily carved onto its front. “Ta-da!” the eight-year-old boasted with a grin. “What do you think?”

Mikleo blinked. He rested his hands against his crossed calves and leaned forward to see the pendant better. “Is it a...necklace?”

Sorey nodded. His face turned sheepish and burned an even brighter red than before. “Y-yeah. But it’s also kinda more than that.” He lifted his other hand, still covered with a mitten, and cradled the necklace in his palm. “Do you remember what you were telling me Master Uno was saying the other day? About the Water Tribes to the north?”

“Yeah.” Mikleo’s eyes drew up from the necklace to his friend. “He was talking about the different traditions between our Tribes.”

“Yeah,” Sorey nodded back. He swallowed. It didn’t escape Mikleo’s notice the way his hands seemed to suddenly shake as he held the necklace. Was it because of the cold? He made a mental note to remind Sorey to put on his left hand glove again once he was done talking. “W-well, he said that when people up there want to marry each other, they make those, uh, beach oval necklaces, right?”

“Is that what he said?”

“Yeah. I think so,” Sorey’s face flushed terribly red again. He held the pendant to his chest tightly. “I kind of hope so,” he murmured, far quieter and under his breath--so soft that Mikleo almost didn’t hear the words.

“Sorey.” Nevertheless, Mikleo felt a wide smile slowly spread across his face. “Did you make me a beach oval necklace?”

“...m-maybe.”

Mikleo’s back straightened. Something warm and happy and a little bit like honored pride slid through him as he held out his hand. “Can I see it?”

Sorey made a suddenly uncertain and strangled sound. His shoulders curled in. “Wait, uh. I’m not so sure anymore.”

“It’s for me, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Then it’s fine,” Mikleo murmured around his smile. He bobbed his hand between them. Sorey’s eyes darted from the open palm, to Mikleo’s eyes, and then back to his hand.

Sorey made one more hesitant sound. Then, he nodded. “Okay. But you’ve gotta close your eyes!”

Mikleo fought the urge to roll his eyes, but he decided to humor his friend. He gently pressed his eyes closed and left his hand in midair. It took a moment for Sorey to reach forward, letting his clumsy carving dangle just above the center of his friend’s palm. Then, with a gasp, Sorey quickly thought better of it.

“Wait!” he said. He shuffled around the ice.

Mikleo raised an eyebrow. He almost opened an eye and would have, if Sorey hadn’t quickly ushered, “No! No! Keep your eyes closed!”

“Sorey?” he asked around a breathless laugh. “Now I’m just nervous.”

Sorey didn’t answer. He slipped off his other mitten still on his right hand and stuffed both of them now into his pockets. Now bare, his fingers shivered in the bitter cold as they stretched out the ribbon and dangled it in front of Mikleo’s neck. He took a deep breath and then wrapped the necklace around him.

Mikleo gasped. His eyes shot open. “Sorey!”

Sorey’s chilled fingers fumbled to tie the ribbon ends quickly. “Gimme a second!” he urged.

Mikleo raised a hand to the pendant. It was so very hard not to move until Sorey was finished tying. “You idiot! Now I can’t actually see it!” he huffed, his own pale face tinged red.

Sorey clasped both hands behind his back. He stepped back as Mikleo spun around and his shoulders bunched up into a sheepish shrug. “So? Maybe that’s a good thing!”

Mikleo heaved out a sigh. “Aren’t I the person you’re giving it to?”

“Well, yeah, but--”

“--and if I’m the one who’s wearing it, shouldn’t I get the chance to see it before I actually decide if I want to wear it?”

Sorey’s eyes darted away briefly. “If, uh, it helps, I think it looks good on you,” he offered.

“You’re hardly even looking at me,” Mikleo mumbled. He frowned, craning his head down while lifting the round pendant with his fingers. He tried his hardest to see the beach oval necklace Sorey had made for him, but no matter how hard he strained his neck, he couldn’t get a decent glimpse of it. He let the pendant fall back against the base of his throat with a sigh.

Sorey flushed again. This time, his eyes did not remove themselves from Mikleo’s face, though he kept glancing every stray moment to the necklace that now donned his best friend’s neck. He could see the stone peeking out from the furred lining of his hood; it filled him with a soft thrill of pride. “Sorry.”

Mikleo’s eyes fluttered to Sorey. He always had to do a double-take when he heard Sorey apologize; the other boy had such a strange way of pronouncing it. “...why’d you make me one?” he asked quietly.

“You don’t know?” Sorey asked, and his voice was so sincere and honest, Mikleo found himself blinking in return.

“No,” the waterbender murmured. “Should I?”

“I mean,” Sorey began and he shrugged for a third time, “I just thought it’d be obvious. I’ve told you I think I want to be friends with you forever, right?”

A small smile pulled at Mikleo’s face. He could feel any tension still present in his shoulders start to ebb. “Yeah.”

“Well, this kinda shows I mean it.” Sorey lifted a bare hand to scratch at his cheek. His green eyes turned to the side. “‘I want to be with you forever.’ So...now you know and you won’t forget. And it’ll always be with you wherever you go.”

“If I don’t take it off, you mean,” Mikleo said quietly. A warm feeling floated high in his chest.

“I...I sure hope you don’t,” Sorey murmured and lifted his eyes.

Mikleo’s smile widened.

- o - o - o -

Red dotted the snow.

Tiny pools of crimson, speckling like dark beads against the white. It spilled down Mikleo’s tight lips as the boy pushed himself upright. A hand left the snow to cup a mitten around his nose; it did little to staunch the molasses drip of blood down his chin.

“Whoa! Ed! What did you do?”

“Y-yeah! Ed, you took it a little far…”

“Shut up, Cynthia! That shows him what we think of him hanging out so much with those Fire Nation guys, anyway!”

Ed threw out a hand. His back was turned. The fur of his coat hood bristled in the arctic wind.

Sorey did not, could not, recognize the heat in his chest for the anger it was. There was something hot, hot, hot and bursting that was building within.

“What’s that dumb necklace supposed to be, anyway? An egg?”

Mikleo’s face twisted. Before Sorey could do anything, he spit on Ed’s sealskin shoes.

Ed snapped.

“Stop!” Cynthia cried, she didn’t know whether to reach out or keep her mittened hands close to her chest. Both her and the other children’s eyes were wide as Ed grabbed Mikleo’s ankle and yanked him across the snow until he was towering over him. Ed’s hand reared back for another punch.

Mikleo’s wrists snapped up to cross over his face.

Then the fire had a voice.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Ed shouted in surprise and fell back at the roar of fire that burst out of the lantern, stretching up to be nearly as tall as Sorey. Glass shards littered the snow, burst out of their metal bracings. The iron framework distorted, the circular handle twisting under the heat.

All of the children stared at him. Even Mikleo.

“W-what?” Ed gasped, but Cynthia was already there at his shoulder, pulling him away as the other children turned tail for the protective walls of the village. “The twerp can firebend?”

“Run!” she urged. “C’mon, Ed! You’ve gotta get out of here!’

Ed did not need to be told twice.

In the sharp and startling quiet afterward, the pillar of fire still rising from the lantern dimmed and ebbed. Sorey looked to Mikleo. Mikleo looked back. Sorey’s eyes darted down to the line of red leading down his friend’s chin. Feeling came back to his fingers, first. Shock and horror followed soon after, landing heavily in his stomach.

“Mikleo, are you okay?”

Mikleo sniffed. He blinked hard, or maybe it was a wince. “My nose hurts.”

“Yeah,” Sorey breathed and dipped his booted toes forward into the snow. He aborted the step before he even took it. “Um. I’ll get Gra--I mean, your mom, and she can--”

“--Sorey, I’m still not afraid of you.”

Sorey paused. Slowly, a smile broke out. “Right,” he said and scurried to Mikleo’s side.

Mikleo took his extended hand and slowly rose to his feet. When he wobbled, Sorey steadied him with both hands--incredibly warm somehow, enough to feel through his mittens and the lining of Mikleo’s coat--pressed to Mikleo’s arms.

His hand was even warmer when he took Mikleo’s own.

“That fire trick of yours was pretty cool, though,” Mikleo murmured with a laugh, hoping it hid the redness he was sure was crawling across his cheeks. He couldn’t stop smiling for some dumb, dopey reason, even with blood dripping down his face. “I thought you said you couldn’t bend?”

“I can’t.” Sorey shrugged and shook his head. He paused. “I mean, I guess I thought I couldn’t.”

“You’ve never done that before?”

“N-no.”

The two shared a look. Forest green met amaranthine and in that exchange, wonder and excitement budded.

“Gramps,” Sorey finally said as if waking up from a deep sleep.

“Yeah,” Mikleo breathed.

They hurried towards the tent camped on the outside of the village walls. The broken, warped remains of Sorey’s lantern sat forgotten in the snow behind them.

#sormik #sorey #mikleo #zestiria #bad things happen bingo #dragged by the ankle #fanfic: sorey #fanfic: mikleo #fanfic: sormik #atla au #mod krissey writes a thing #it starts out fluffy #then gets a littol angsty #but just a smidge

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icecoldbloodtype · 5 years ago

Note

what are your favorite lyrics from each track off of youngblood? then tag 5 people to do it :)

*disclaimer lol I put disclosure last time I am dumb, but same premises. I’m sorey.

Youngblood- “it takes one to know yeah you beat me at my own damn game”

Want You Back- It’s the way Luke says “I remember the roses on your shirt”

Lie To Me- “You look happy OOOOoooOoo so damn happy yeeeeeeah”

Valentine- SO DEEEEEO YOUR DNA’S BEING MESSED W MY TOUCH

Talk Fast- IDONTWANNATHINKABOUTAMOMENTWITHYOUIMKINDAHOPINFOR FOREEEEEVEEEEEER and whatever calum’s verse is...WHY SO COMPLICATED WONT UOU THROW ME A BONE I WNAY UOUR LOBE IN EVERY FLAVOR bc note change

Moving Along- The bassline. And I guess luke not enunciating “i nuh um the stuhped one who enduh et an nah um the stuhped one regrehhen et. tuh meh a couple dranks tuh adma et uh know u’m the stuhped one”

If Walls Could Talk- “Don’t let that class go to waste girl you’re a queen but uncrowned”

Better Man- “all of my wrongs they led me right to you”

More- IF YOU AND ME ARE LIVING IN THE SAME PLACE WHY DO WE FEEL ALONE

Why Won’t You Love Me- “3 missed calls at 2am at the place we used to NBC I and we take ourselves again...your best girlfriend just got engaged and we said you can’t work” or whatever mike and cal said in the back and forth verse🤷🏾‍♀️

Woke Up In Japan- Falling fast, breathing slow, tome us p the end is just a Dream.

Ghost of You- Calum’s entire verse from the time he says “cleaning up today found that old zeppelin shirt” to when “but I know better now” and that last chorus where it ends with “so I chase it down w a shot of truth that my feet don’t dance like they did w you”

Monster Among Men- A FORGOTTEN TREASURE. MICHAEL RIGHTS! “DEMONS HIDE BEHIND MY BACK and I can’t LET THEM KNOCK DOWN MY DOOR” and “Fragile always bout to fall just like sandcastles 3 2 1 go”

Meet You Tgere- Ashton’s live drum solo bc I’m pretty sure there’s no words?

Babylon- where the cal note change is...idk rn. “The color of your moon is all rude fall June so residue” that part.

When You Walk Away- the bassline. I’m so bad at letting go, why do you make it look so easy.

Best Friend- “even every time when your face says achoo but I run and get you a tissue” CASHTON RIGHTS

Midnight- the whole thing.

@goth5sos @rosecolouredash @sexgodashton @h0tsos @calumspeachy @heartbreakgirlisagoodsongcalum @cashton-queen @canyonmoonhood @classiclikeegyptiangold 😘💛

#again i am sorry #😬

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mashumiwu · 6 years ago

Text

HYBRID JAIL (Hybrid AU; pt 2)

[Previous] - [Main Masterlist] - [Next]

'Don't fall for it...she's evil...she's planning to kill all of us...' I was shocked that I could hear his voice. As soon as the scientist went out with the gaurds, the bell rang to go back to the cell. I followed Jongho and Yeosang back to the cell. I sat on my bed, still a little shock.

"Now, what I'm trying to say is-"

"I know, I understand, 'Don't fall for it, she's evil, she's planning to kill all of us.'" I said, recalling the words in my head.

"How did you..?" He started. Yeosang looked over.

"Maybe her powers are coming....she can read minds that's for sure..." He said. I hummed.

"That's a bit early though..." Jongho said.

"It's nothing big, right?" I asked, a little worried. Jongho shook his head.

"You're right, it's nothing to worry about..." He said. 'But now we can tell each other secrets without anyone else hearing.' I heard. I giggled.

"I could hear you guys..." Yeosang said.

"Oh right, Yeosang hyung also reads minds..." He mumbled.

'We could tell each other secrets still, just the 3 of us!' I tried. Yeosang and Jongho nodded. I smiled. It worked!!! I have my first known power! Jongho got up.

"It's getting late...we should go to sleep..." He said. I nodded along with Yeosang. I laid down on my bed. It felt the same as my bed at home when I normally sleep. Nothing too different about it. I brought my blanket up and wrapped it around my body. Jongho turned off the lights. "Goodnight..." He said, as he walked back to his bed.

"Goodnight...Hwa-Young, Jongho..." Yeosang said.

"Goodnight boys..." I said. I tried to go to sleep, but I laid there, wide awake. I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened today. I was taken from school to this place...what about my family? Did they know what happened? Why aren't they coming to get me? What about Mia? What about all of my other friends? I couldn't go to sleep at all.

'Hey, you ok?' I heard Yeosang's voice in my head. I looked up at his bed, where he was looking down at me.

'Not really...I'm just worried about stuff...' I thought. Yeosang sighed.

'Try to go to sleep Hwa...' I heard him. I smiled at the nickname.

"You too Yeosangie...' I said. He chuckled and laid back down.

'Now really, go to sleep...see you in the morning...' He said. I nodded in response. The next morning, I woke up to a loud beeping. I woke up and looked over at Jongho, who got out of his bed to stop the little clock.

"Good morning..." He mumbled. I smiled softly and yawned.

"Good morning...." I replied. I looked up at Yeosang, who was still asleep.

"We have school, get ready..." he said as he shook Yeosang awake.

"School? Still?" I asked. Jongho nodded. I sighed. "I hates school...." I mumbled.

"This school is worse than any other school I've been too..." Jongho said. Yeosang groaned.

"Can't we pretend we're sick?" Yeosang asked.

"Hyung! You know what will happened if we skip!" Jongho exclaimed.

"What will happened?" I asked. They turned to me.

"Uh...something bad..." Yeosang mumbled.

"How bad?"

"Death."

"Oh..." I hate the idea of dying so much....now there's a higher chance I will, here. The bell rang.

"Crap, that's the bell, let's go!" Jongho said. We walked out into the cafeteria. I sat with the boys again, joking around and laughing like we did yesterday. I guess living here is good so far, we need to see abiut school...

"Are you excited about school here?" Yunho asked. I shook my head.

"Not at all..." I mumbled.

"Oh, we found out her first power last night." Jongho said. The boys stopped laughing and looked at Jongho in shock.

"Really?!"

"That's early..."

"What is it?" The boys turned to look at me.

"Uh..." I was overwhelmed.

'C'mon, Hwa, you got this.' I heard Yeosang's voice.

'Tell them!' Jongho said.

"Why are you guys so quiet?" Wooyoung finally asked. "Are you guys telepathically talking again?" Wooyoung said. They turned to Jongho and Yeosang, and then back to me.

"Waaittt....do you have mind reading powers too?!" Mingi asked. I nodded and smiled softly.

"Wow..." Seonghwa said. "What do you think you are?" He asked. I shrugged. We went out and the boys showed the way to the school, a huge underground basement. It was bigger than my old school! There was gaurds at every door and lockers were lined at the walls. I heard the bell rang again, signaling the start of the day. Everyone came running and shoving to get to class. In the midst of the crowds of people, Yeosang geabbed my arm and led me twoards a class.

"I have all the same classes as you, c'mon, let's go." He said and led me to the classroom. We walked in and he sat down at a table. I sat down next to him. I looked at the door to see more students walking in. Finally, I saw Chan walking in.

"Chan!" I whisper shouted. He looked up and smiled. He walked over to the table and sat by me.

"Hwa! How are you?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Ok, I guess..." I said.

"Oh, yesterday, I found out my first power!" He said.

"Really? Me too!!" I said. "What's yours?" I asked. He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the bell ringing. He turned around to face the front. I looked up front too, but peeked over at him. I was curious, so I couldn't help myself to read his mind.

'Telekinesis'

I smiled before focusing back to the front of the room where, I guess, our teacher was at.

"Welcome back, class! We have two new 'students' today." She said. She looked over at me and Chan. We looked at each other and stood up.

"Hello, my name is Chan..." Chan said and bowed. He looked at me.

"Uh..H-hello, my name is Hwa-Young..." I said and bowed. The teacher nodded and we both sat back down.

"Welocme to our class, Chan and Hwa-Young. I am Ms. Lee." The teacher said. After 30 minutes, the bell rang for the next class to start. I walke dout and started talking to Chan with Yeosang listening in.

"My powers are mind reading!" I said.

"Oh yeah! Mine is-"

"Telekinesis." I cut him off and smiled.

"Yeah!" He smiled and I high-fived him. The bell rang again and Chan waved at us and walked down the hall to his next class, while Yeosang pulled me with him to the next class.

"How many classes do we have?" I asked.

"7" he said. I groaned. Today is just gonna be along day...

(I FINALLY UPDATED!! I'm sorey for taking so long on updating Hybrid jail ㅠㅠ -Admin Ji)

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eachainn · 7 years ago

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Wish I Could Be Part of Your World (Tales Whump Week Day 1: Wounds)

Author’s Note: A semi-sequel to the Little Mermaid AU that I did for Sormik Week. Title take from Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid.

Warning: references to past mind control/character having no agency over thier actions, offscreen rape/non-con.

“Wake up, darling king.”

Sorey twitched, grabbing at the covers.

“No, no. None of that. We have business to attend to.”

Sorey shook his head, trying to kick out with his legs, but he couldn’t. He was held in place like he always was. It was there, just sitting in the back of his mind, holding him down and still until he was commanded to move. All he had was the words, the ones that would set him moving. It wasn’t freedom, and Sorey wasn’t sure if it was better than being stuck lying down.

He shuddered at the ghost of fingers across his forehead, their cold touch moving down to his cheek to cup it.

“Are you ready, your majesty?” The bed creaked. “It’s time to face your kingdom.”

Sorey jerked upright, gasping for breath as his body responded to the order. He stared at the darkness of the room, his heart pounding fast as he took in the shadows that marked when the furniture was. It was all unfamiliar, which was good. It meant that he wasn’t in his room, their room.

He shuddered, reaching up to rub at his arms. He looked around at the furniture, reviewing the placement of the pieces, some part of him marveling at the ability to rub his arms. It was strange that he was allowed those ticks again. For years he had been kept in perfect form, everything just so. The perfect image of a king with his queen by his side. Later on, a daughter had been added, a princess that he couldn’t even picture. Sorey wasn’t even sure of everything that he had done in those years. He had been trapped in his own head, alternately screaming out into the void there because he couldn’t take it or just slipping back into something that might have been sleep. His consciousness hadn’t been there, but his body had kept moving, because she had wanted it to be. She had needed him alive, because he was the barrier between her and whatever waited for her in the ocean.

Sorey shuddered, clutching at his arms. He hadn’t been able to do much, but he had felt that. He had felt her fear. It was why she had ordered him to sign the order for the sea wall. She was afraid of the ocean.

He swallowed and stood up, walking over the window. He leaned his head against the glass, staring down at the beach. It was a different view from the ones that he was used to from his room, the sweeping view of the beach. It was the beach that he had been pulled up onto after the sinking of The Celestial. The same beach where he had first found Mikleo. The same beach where he had first seen her walking, first heard that voice, the same one from when he had been rescued. He had been so sure of it and it had caught.

He could hear it even now.

Sorey jerked back at the cold press of glass against his palm, Sorey staring at the back of his hand. He didn’t remember moving it, and that made him shake.

It was too much like when she had been in control.

Sorey could hear his breathing get heavy, but louder was the sound of the waves on the beach below.

Even louder was the sound of that song.

Sorey whimpered, staring at the beach for a moment more before turning away. He managed three steps before he was sprinting.

Sorey grabbed for the door, hauling it open before stumbling out into the hallway. He didn’t bother to pause, he knew his castle like the back of his hand. Besides, he didn’t dare stop, not when he could hear that damned song.

She was gone, he knew that. He had watched her get dragged back to the ocean for some sort of punishment. He had never asked Mikleo what it was, because it hadn’t mattered. In that moment he’d been free of her and able to think, and he had been grateful. He had thought it was over.

Sorey shook his head, so occupied with trying to chase the song and her voice out of his head that he almost fell down the stairs.

His feet slipped out from under him, Sorey twisting around to scramble at the railing to keep himself from tumbling down the stairwell. He winced as his arms took his weight, Sorey glancing back over his shoulders. It wasn’t a bad fall, just the gentle curve of the stair case in the dark. But there was every chance that he would smack against the wall on the way down, or break his neck. Sorey tightened his grip on the railing, hauling himself closer to it to rest his forehead against the marble. It wasn’t as cold as the window, but it helped.

He stayed curled against the railing for a moment longer before pushing himself upright. He kept one hand on the railing, the steadiness of it soothing him. It felt more solid than he felt, and it was familiar and home. Better still, it was marble, it was of the earth and exactly the opposite of the creature that had tortured him.

Sorey winced and looked over his shoulder, watching for movement on the landing. There wouldn’t be anyone up this late, or so he hoped. But there was no telling with Mikleo. Mikleo was a law unto himself. Sorey didn’t know if it was just Mikleo being nervous or a part of what Mikleo was. Sorey had never asked, and he didn’t know if Mikleo and Symmone were very different. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, Sorey turning away and making his way purposefully down the stairs.

It didn’t matter, because he had asked Mikleo to stay. He didn’t know why, he had just been glad that he could control himself and the years of longing had caught up with him. Maybe some part of him had wanted protection from her, but Sorey hoped that it was not the only reason. Beneath the panic and the fear, he wanted to believe that some part of him still loved Mikleo. It was just hard to find that when it was at night. At night, there was only desperate distraction.

Sorey stepped onto the ground floor, staring at the shadows of the furniture. That was familiar too, Sorey taking a deep breath. He took a moment to look around the room, revealing in the freedom to do so. He was so used to having his movements so precisely controlled, so the simple act of looking around was a novelty. He lingered a moment longer before moving off.

He couldn’t stand in the entryway forever, there was plenty of things to do that would occupy his attention. It was a pattern he had established, keeping himself occupied at night in the hope that he would one day sleep through it.

It hadn’t happened yet.

Sorey made his way through the halls, seeking out his study by the library. Once, he would have made a beeline for the library, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t even bring himself to stop.

It was the one room that she had never gone into, which meant that it was still free of whatever pall she had cast over the castle. It still lingered in him, it was the only explanation he had for why he could still hear her voice and the song.

Sorey reached up to cover an ear, pressing his palm hard against it until he reached the door of his study. He leaned into the door, stumbling into the room as it opened. It was dark, Sorey walking as quickly as he could through the darkness. He reached out in front of him, searching blindly for his desk.

His legs knocked against it, Sorey turning to grope blindly on the surface. He muttered a curse as he felt his hand slide against papers before they were spilling to the floor. Sorey braced himself against the desk, closing his eyes for a moment before renewing his search. There were matches somewhere on the desk. He had left them there the night before. He just couldn’t remember where. It was all a blur.

Sorey groaned and leaned over to press his forehead against the desk, only getting a moment to collect himself before the door was creaking open.

He turned his head, his eyes widening at the shadow that he could see in the doorway. For one, heart-stopping moment, he thought that she was back.

“Your highness?”

Sorey slumped against the desk at the sound of the familiar voice. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before pushing himself upright. “Taccio.”

“What are you doing up?

“It’s nothing.”

That didn’t seem to appease the old retainer. Taccio remained stooped in the doorway, the darkness making it impossible for Sorey to tell what his expression was.

Sorey swallowed, offering the man a smile, even though he didn’t know if Taccio could see him. “I’m fine. I just want to get some work done.”

There was a pause before Taccio spoke again, his voice nearly a whisper. “It’s the fourth night in a row.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need your sleep, sire.”

Sorey started shaking his head before he realized what he was doing. He found that he couldn’t stop the motion, Sorey curling his fingers against the side of the desk. He knew that he should say something to throw Taccio off, to get the man to leave him alone so he could hide away from the voice, song and touch that haunted him. Maybe he would be able to snatch a few more hours of sleep without it waking him again.

He jumped when light flared, Sorey looking across the desk at where Taccio was setting the candle back into place. The old man shook out the match, settling it at the base of the candle before leaning forward to look at him.

Sorey flinched away, closing his eyes as he felt Taccio’s hand on his head. It was bearable, if only just.

He swallowed, relieved that Taccio seemed content to just rest his hand there, like he had when Sorey was young. It was supposed to be comforting, but Sorey wasn’t sure what it was. It was a human hand, and it made his stomach swoop.

“Don’t do this, not tonight.”

Sorey shook his head. “I have things to do. The kingdom…”

“You won’t help like this.”

Sorey licked his lips, feeling himself start to shake. Taccio was like family. Even as a king, Sorey was sure that Taccio would chivvy him back to bed, maybe even back to his room.

The shaking grew worse at the thought. That was the room that was the prison within his prison. That was the room that she had taken and altered until he didn’t recognize anything inside it. That was the room where he had been the singular focus of her attentions.

“You’re a lucky man, little king. You’ve got someone with power on your side. Your people will be safe so long as I am kept safe and satisfied. You don’t want any harm to come to them, do you?”

Sorey choked on a sob, his legs giving out. Distantly he heard Taccio call for him, but he was beyond hearing. He was lost in the sound of her voice and stolen song.

He crumpled to the ground, curling in on himself. Sorey clutched at his arms, sucking in deep breaths of air around his tears. He felt arms drop around him, Sorey tensing up even as Taccio rubbed at his back.

“Oh, Sorey. We’re here. We’re here.”

Sorey shook his head, not sure what he was trying to say. At a loss, he looked up at Taccio, feeling his stomach twist at the hopefulness in the man’s eyes. There was nothing that he could say in the face of that, not when Taccio believed that everything was going better now. They had suffered as well, and Sorey couldn’t take away this freedom from them. At least they were free.

He dropped his gaze away, his eyes widening as he saw Mikleo in the doorway.

The man was sitting in it, blocking the exit. His knees were drawn up to his chest, making him look small and lost. Sorey wanted to flinch away from the sight, but he couldn’t look away. Mikleo’s hand was in the room, palm up like an offer if he could reach across and take it.

It wasn’t far away, maybe a few steps once he got away from Taccio.

Sorey’s fingers flexed by his side before he slumped against Taccio, numbly accepting the touch from the old man.

It was a matter of a few steps, but he couldn’t cross it, not when he could still hear her stolen song.

#TalesWhumpWeek #my fic #sormik #tales of zestiria

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tmariea · 7 years ago

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New Light

Hello all, here is my entry for the Sormik Advent Calendar, day 7!

The Winter Solstice is a time of light and song and stories. For Mikleo, this makes it even harder losing his mother so close to the holiday. Thankfully, he has Sorey to offer his support and comfort, to sing with him in the darkest hours of the longest night, and to help make the season bright again in the years to come.

Read on AO3

It was the first year that Mikleo hadn’t gone to Temple for the Winter Solstice. He’d had a long car ride from Ladylake instead, and arrived back in Elysia after the sun had already set, too late to attend the sunset services. Sorey’s house had looked like it always had, with the addition of strings of holiday lights along the trim, a bright point in the early darkness of the evening. Mikleo had tried to not look at his own house just next door, tried not to think of how it made him feel sick to his stomach to see it dark and empty.

But then the door to Sorey’s house had burst open and he’d heard a shout of his name followed by footsteps pounding down the wooden porch stairs.

“Welcome home. I missed you!” Sorey said, yanking Mikleo into a hug and simultaneously trying to lift him off the ground and squeeze him as tight as his arms could manage.

“Me too,” Mikleo managed to choke out. He felt his toes just barely leave the ground before he was set on his feet again. When he took a step back, he could see that Sorey was wearing his big, goofy smile, but it was fake looking; there were tears starting to leak from the corners of his eyes.

Sorey scrubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand and sniffed. “Ah, sorry,” he said, and for a moment it sounded like he was trying to apologize about crying. But then, broken in the middle by a sob, he finished, “sorry about your mom.”

Sorey’s Gramps had joined them then, to welcome Mikleo home too. It spared him trying to come up with something to say in reply. They had all thanked Miss Lailah, an old friend of Mikleo’s mother, for taking care of him while his mother was in the hospital, before heading into the brightly lit house.

The three of them had eaten a quiet, simple dinner in Sorey’s kitchen, as if there was nothing different about this night from any other. Then Mikleo had taken his bag upstairs to the guest room, which was his room now he supposed, to unpack while Sorey sat cross-legged on the bed to watch. Thankfully, it hadn’t been too hard to convince Sorey to talk, about school and their friends and everything that had happened while he’d been away. He hadn’t felt up to filling the silence himself.

But then they had to go to bed, and it had been silent again anyway. And dark. Only a tiny sliver of street light filtered through the thick curtain. It was much harder, without the holiday lights, or Sorey’s chatter, to keep himself from thinking. Thinking of the past month spent living in someone else’s home, watching day by day as his mother’s smile grew weaker, in almost agonizing wait for the moment it wouldn’t come at all. Thinking of how now, with his Uncle Michael gone in an accident while traveling a few years ago, he was without family anymore.

Mikleo had thought he must have cried himself out of tears by now, but he was wrong. He pressed his lips tight together and tried to wipe them quickly away from his cheeks.

Tonight, he had the unfortunate ability to know exactly how long he cried, when he heard the boom of the first of the fireworks going up overhead. Midnight. He’d been awake like this for nearly two hours. His eyes hurt as he watched what tiny flashes he could see illuminated through the edges of the curtain, and his cheeks and nose hurt as he tried to rub them dry one last time.

The sound and the light was enough distraction from his thoughts to stop the tears, at very least. But as soon as it was done, the world was quiet and dark again.

He knew there was no way he would be able to sleep; it didn’t feel right. Sorey’s house was made for sleeping over on the couch, playing video games way too late at night, midnight movies where they’d fall asleep halfway through and watch the rest the next day. He wasn’t supposed to be alone in this room. This wasn’t supposed to be his room. This wasn’t his pillow, it wasn’t his bed and it was Sorey’s Gramps asleep down the hall, not his mom. His mom was… in a better place. In the glorious Land of the Seraphim. He’d heard that a lot over the past few days. She wasn’t sick anymore, she wasn’t in pain; but she wasn’t there.

She’d always been there, for every night when he couldn’t fall asleep and for every Winter Solstice when the sun threatened to stay down below the horizon and leave him in darkness. She’d read him the stories and sing him the songs. She – she was reason the light came back; she had called it back with her voice and she wasn’t there.

Mikleo could feel his heart beating faster. He clutched his knees tight to his chest even as he told himself to just get up and turn on the light. It took a few repetitions in his head before he could convince his legs to move. When they did, he found himself scrambling into the hall instead, and then to Sorey’s room.

Sorey stirred as he opened and closed the door, despite his best efforts to stay quiet. “Mikleo?”

Mikleo froze, suddenly unsure how to explain his fears to his best friend. His mind knew that whether the sun rose or not didn’t depend on his mother’s songs. But he felt so nauseous he thought he might puke, and his heart still stuttered in his chest as if it really believed that the light was gone forever.

“Mikleo what’s wrong?”

While he was trying to think, Sorey had sat up in bed, turning himself into a shadowy silhouette. That unnerved Mikleo too, so he walked over to sit on the bed, where he could reach out and touch Sorey, could feel that everything was still as it should be. With hardly any conscious thought, they were folding into each other. Mikleo’s forehead came to rest on Sorey’s shoulder and a pair of hands came up to his back.

“We didn’t sing,” he said finally, just because he felt like he had to say something.

“Sing?”

“The Winter Solstice songs, the ones we sing to bring back the light. We,” Mikleo choked on his words, but they came tumbling out of his throat no matter how much his breath caught and caught. “Mom and I, we stay up late to sing every year. And now she’s g-gone. The light isn’t going to come back.”

“What do you mean? Of course it’s going to come back,” Sorey reassured.

Mikleo could only shake his head against Sorey’s shoulder and squeeze his eyes shut tight so that he wouldn’t start to cry all over his shirt.

Suddenly, the hands on his back were gone, and then pushing him away at his shoulders. Sorey probably didn’t want his shirt cried on either. Mikleo brought a hand up to rub at his eyes and winced. When he looked back up, even though it was hard to see in the dark, Sorey’s face looked almost excited.

“I have an idea,” he declared. “Why don’t I sing with you?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah! We can stay up all night, read all our favorite stories and sing all the songs, and then in the morning it will be light again.”

“Really?” Mikleo asked, and hoped that Sorey hadn’t noticed his voice cracking in the middle of the word.

“Yes really. Gramps and I, we’re going to be your family now. And that’s what families do – help each other when they’re sad or scared.”

“I…” he started, but then came up short on what to say. He nodded instead. “Thank you.”

Sorey pulled Mikleo into a sudden, brief hug before releasing him again. “You’re welcome! Now come on, let’s go!” He kicked off his blankets and slid into a pair of slippers next to the bed before grabbing Mikleo’s hand and tugging him from the room.

They knew from years of sneaking downstairs that Gramps slept like a log, except for that third creaky step from the bottom. They carefully stepped over and made it down with no signs of an awakened and grumpy guardian from above.

The living room was dark, but not as dark as the bedroom had been. There were no curtains to block the lights from the street, and on the mantle over the fireplace sparkled five electric candles, still turned on. The bulb on the center candle was white, and flanked by two on each side in red, green, blue and orange. Around each hung a detailed charm in molded silver – a stylized sun for Maotelus, and then the symbols of each natural element. Mikleo knew, from the annual round of bragging, that these charms were the ‘real deal, even older than Gramps!’

“Before people used battery candles it was the wax that was colored,” he said, just because it felt good to say something normal.

Sorey looked over his shoulder as he crossed the room. “Sure, but they do make the fire different colors at Temple every year. Loanna told me they do it with chemicals.” He turned away again as he reached his destination, and plugged an electrical cord into the socket on the wall. Strands of tiny lights wrapped into garlands of fake pine needles and holly branches lit up across the room. They were draped around the fireplace and lined the tops of all four walls.

“Is this okay?” Sorey asked. “Gramps wouldn’t let us light the fireplace.”

“It’s okay. But anyway, the colors in Temple only last a minute or two. You couldn’t do that all night.”

“Maybe not.”

Mikleo looked at Sorey with narrowed eyes. It wasn’t like him to give up on an argument. If he was only doing it because he felt bad for Mikleo, he would be mad. But it didn’t look as if there was any pity on Sorey’s face, so he let it slide. Instead he followed him to the couch, the one he always started to sink into while watching movies if he wasn’t careful, and sat gingerly. He pulled his knees up to his chest while Sorey reached for the family copy of the Celestial Record on the coffee table.

“Where do you think we should start?” Sorey asked, running his thumb across the tabs and bookmarks around the edges. “I know the services always start with the story of the Great Darkness falling at Camlann, but that one always just makes me sad.”

“Right,” Mikleo agreed. He leaned his head to the side on his knees so he could still see Sorey, not that he would notice him looking. He always had so much energy when talking about the Celestial Record; in that moment it made Mikleo jealous for that feeling.

And yet Sorey did look over when he was least expecting it, with a wide, bright smile on his face. It felt almost as if he was trying to share his joy. The edges of Mikleo’s mouth curled up a bit and he wondered when the last time he smiled genuinely was. He thought he saw Sorey’s smile spread even wider, but it might have been just a trick of the dim lighting.

“So then, what about the Origin of the Shepherd?” Sorey suggested, and caught the edge of a worn leather bookmark between his fingers to open to the page.

Mikleo scooted closer to Sorey to look over his shoulder. One page of the two was taken up by a drawing of a spectacular Shepherd mural. The man was surrounded on all sides by symbols and images, of Maotelus, of the seraphim, of the dragons legend said once roamed the skies. He reached over to touch the sword the man held aloft.

His arm dragged over Sorey’s as he moved, and Sorey turned to him with a frown that creased his eyebrows. “You’re really cold. I’m sorry, you know how much our heater sucks. The fireplace usually does most of the work. Here.” He pressed the open book in to Mikleo’s hands before turning and stretching as far as he could over the arm of the couch to try to reach the blanket thrown over the nearby armchair. He let out a triumphant noise, and dragged his prize back onto the couch. “Trade you!”

Mikleo had hardly a moment to react before the Celestial Record was snatched away and the blanket pressed into his arms instead. He draped it over his shoulders and tucked his legs to the side so he could wind the edge around his bare feet.

“Don’t you have slippers?”

“Not here. At home.”

“Ah.” Sorey looked a mix between apologetic and a bit lost. He turned his face suddenly back to the Celestial Record and cleared his throat. “In the Era of Great Darkness, Maotelus conferred with his Lords and all decided they would need a champion to bring them back the light,” he began to read. Mikleo moved closer again to read along over his shoulder.

After they read the Origin of the Shepherd, Sorey insisted on reading the story of The Shepherd Who Still Sleeps. It wasn’t directly related to the solstice holidays or prayers, but it was his favorite. Mikleo didn’t put up a fuss about that; if Sorey was willing to stay up all night with him, he should get to read his favorite story.

Next came the Hymns to The Four Lords. They sang to Hyanoa, Musiphe, Amenoch, and Eumacia, trying to keep their voices low so as to not wake Gramps. They called to the wind, to fire, to water, and to earth, to ask for their blessing and bounty in the coming year.

It was different to hear the hymns in Sorey’s voice. They had sung them together in Temple with everyone else, but never before just the two of them. Mikleo’s heart couldn’t decide whether to be sad that his mother’s voice wasn’t joining them, or grateful for everything Sorey was doing for him. He landed somewhere between, and did his best to keep his voice from cracking as he quietly followed Sorey’s lead.

They were just beginning to read the prelude before the Light Calling Songs when Mikleo leaned back against the arm of the couch, and clutched the blanket tighter in his arms. His eyes were trying to slip shut. He thrust the blanket off of himself with vehemence, and sat up, shaking his head to try to clear it.

Sorey paused where he had been reading and looked over. He frowned when he saw the blanket lying to the side. “Now that’s not good,” he said, leaning over to set the Celestial Record on the other arm of the couch, still open to their page. Before Mikleo could protest, there were hands snatching up the blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders again. They brought the sides around the front and tucked them close together so that he was entirely bundled up. “You should be warm.”

“I’ll fall asleep like this,” Mikleo admitted.

“That’s okay.”

“No, I can’t sleep.” If he slept, it would be for nothing. If he slept, he’d wake up in darkness.

Sorey puffed out his chest and declared, “I’m not tired at all! I can stay up for you.”

Mikleo tried to open his mouth to protest, to say that Sorey didn’t have to do that for him alone. But his eyes still hurt from crying earlier, and it was so much easier to lean back against the arm of the couch again. The lights from the garlands were starting to blur in his vision, changing from tiny points of light to wider and wider circles that met and blended together.

He blinked and looked back at Sorey, who had picked up the Celestial Record again and seemed absorbed in finding his spot. When he found the line he’d been searching for, he made a soft “aha” sound, and then opened his mouth to sing. Mikleo recognized the song; it was Journey’s End, the hymn for sending off the old light of the previous year. Even without the music to go along with, both of them had sung it often enough that Sorey was fairly close to key. Mikleo tried to join, but his voice was distorted from lying down, and quickly cut off by a yawn.

Sorey paused as he heard him falter, in order to insist, “Sleep.” Then, he picked up where he’d left off in the song as if he hadn’t been interrupted. Even his image was blurring now, sat with his legs crossed to support the Celestial Record, head tilted just slightly up to sing.

The next sight Mikleo would see was the first light of dawn through the living room windows. Sorey would be curled next to him, with the blanket tucked messily around them both.

With Mikleo’s memories of the Winter Solstice from his childhood, no one would have blamed him if he had come to hate the holiday. But, it had become one of his favorite days of the year, and Sorey was almost entirely responsible. Mikleo could tell that he’d put a lot of effort into making each Winter Solstice special. He’d given the best presents, convinced Gramps to take them to interesting places and then still stayed up all night reading after. Sometimes it was the Celestial Record and the Light Calling Songs, sometimes a new book that had them both fascinated. He’d tried to bake Mikleo a cake when they were twelve, which had been memorable at the very least even if the cake itself didn’t go to plan, kissed him for the first time under the fireworks when they were fifteen, and, two years ago to the day, Sorey had got down on one knee at dawn and asked Mikleo to marry him.

And now, well. Mikleo smoothed non-existent wrinkles out of the front of his white suit, and reached up to tuck away any stray hairs even though each was perfectly in place.

“Nuh-uh, you stop that,” Lailah said, and swatted his hands away. She’d been working on his hair for hours, braiding and coiling and pinning. The end result was a crown of many interwoven smaller braids, from under which tumbled an artfully casual waterfall of curls. He had so many clips and pins in his hair at this point that he would not want to be standing outside if a lightning storm blew up. Not that lightning was very common in the winter. There had been that one time when he was eleven and it had scared him badly because he hadn’t been expecting the thunder and…

“Mikleo.”

Mikleo blinked a few times and Lailah came into focus before him. Red and white lacy dress, hair up in a high ponytail, hand hovering just slightly out from her side, at the ready to swat at him again if he tried to touch his hair more. Lords he was nervous if his thoughts would take off like that.

He took a deep breath and tried to ground himself. The room smelled of pine boughs. They were laid out on the windowsills and draped across the top of the full-length mirror before him. Five candles dripping colored wax adorned a small altar near the door, more for ritual than for light. Outside the window, the sky was lightening from the black of night into the grey of pre-dawn.

Once he felt as if he had a handle on the racing beat of his heart in his chest, Mikleo smiled in a way he hoped would be reassuring.

“Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

“Just remember, if you try to run away, your feet will be even colder!” Lailah exclaimed. “You know, because it’s winter. And there’s snow on the ground. Under your feet,” she continued, and then cleared her throat when Mikleo still looked at her blankly. “Anyway, you look stunning. I can’t wait to see Sorey’s face! And now for the finishing touch.”

Lailah pulled a silver hair clip from her bag. It was decorated with two delicate silver fish, dancing in the swirls of water that held them in place. Sorey had given it to him for the solstice the previous year. She stood back to admire her handiwork and clapped her hands together. “You know, Muse would be so happy.”

“You think so?” Mikleo asked. He blinked twice quickly to fend off any wetness in his eyes; it was hard, to think that his mother wouldn’t be there to see his wedding day.

“Of course! She always used to say that she thought the two of you would end up together one day. Looks like she was right after all.”

There was no more chance for thought, then, because there was a knock on the door and one of the temple attendants saying, “It’s time.” The woman smiled at him gently when Lailah opened the door and led the two of them out into the temple. The antechamber where he’d gotten ready was at the back and to one side of the temple proper. Standing in a very similar door, at the other end of the aisle formed by the last row of pews was Sorey, decked out in a black suit and still wearing his big feather earrings despite the occasion.

Mikleo was suddenly quite grateful for Lailah holding onto his arm and leading him forward. They’d practiced this entry a few days ago during the rehearsal, but how was he supposed to be expected to remember any of that when Sorey was looking at him as if he had made the sun rise again himself?

They met in the middle of the aisle, Sorey similarly led by Gramps. At this point, they were supposed to link arms and head down to the altar. Instead, Sorey stopped to say, “You look amazing.” His voice caught just a bit as he spoke, and there was the glitter of tears at the edges of his eyes.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to cry at our wedding,” Mikleo replied with a teasing smile.

“I did, didn’t I? Looks like you win.”

“There’s no winning or losing today, okay. Are you ready to do this?”

“I’ve been ready for a long time.”

At this point each of their chaperones were starting to give them subtle nudges, so they took each other’s arm and began to walk forward. Lailah and Gramps linked arms as well and followed behind. They passed the pews, draped in blue and purple flowers and filled with their friends, and came to stand before the priest at the altar, who smiled widely to see them. They bowed in respect, and then turned to face each other.

The priest began to speak. They had chosen favorite passages from the Celestial Record for the ritual portion of the ceremony, lines and stories that represented love and growth and discovery. Both of them had read the words countless times, and so the speech faded away into the back of Mikleo’s mind. He was far more entranced by the way, as the sun rose, light shone through the magnificent stained glass window behind the altar and cast a rainbow of colors across Sorey’s face. For a moment, streaks of red and blue mingled, and painted Sorey’s eyes with a flash of purple. Mikleo’s smile widened and his heart felt even lighter, to think that somewhere out there Muse might be looking down on them from the Land of the Seraphim.

“Mikleo.” Sorey took his hands and began to speak, bringing his attention back. “You are the most amazing person I know. You are so smart, and talented, and hardworking, and have persevered through everything in our lives with such dignity. You have taken care of me, and taught me, and shown me what it is to love someone with your whole heart. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to do the same for you.” Here, Sorey paused to swallow and to blink against the tears forming in his eyes once again. His voice caught as he began to speak again, but that made his words no less resolute. “Once, many years ago, I said that I would be your family. And so I, Sorey, promise once more – with the light of Maotelus and his four Lords as our witness – to be your family now and for the rest of our lives. I promise to love you and to stand by your side through all of the joy and triumphs and sorrows that we may experience, as your husband.”

Mikleo squeezed Sorey’s hands, and tried to fight back his own tears. It didn’t seem to matter though, as he began to speak, that his voice was already catching. Neither did he find himself caring that the words from his mouth did not exactly follow the speech he had carefully crafted and rehearsed. All that mattered was the man in front of him. “Sorey, I can’t imagine what it would be like to live without you. You have been by my side through some of the best and the worst moments of my life, to celebrate or to lend your shoulder to lean on. Words don’t do justice to how much it means to me. You are my best friend, my love, my own guiding light. I want to keep growing, keep becoming a better version of myself for you. I promise that every day, I will work to build a bright future for us.” And then he found himself falling into the traditional words they had agreed to say together, telling Sorey, “I, Mikleo – with the light of Maotelus and his four Lords as our witness – promise to love you and to stand by your side through all of the joy and triumphs and sorrows that we may experience, as your husband.”

This time, Sorey wasn’t even pretending to hold back his tears, and smiling wide through it all. At the priest’s word, they turned and stepped up to the altar, where there was an unlit, white candle waiting for them, and before it two gold rings. Sorey picked one up and slid it onto Mikleo’s finger. Mikleo copied his motions.

“As a sign that you, Sorey will take Mikleo as your husband, and you Mikleo will take Sorey as your husband, please light the candle together from Maotelus’s light,” the priest instructed.

They grasped the candle, with Mikleo’s hand above and Sorey’s below, and the light catching on the gold of their new rings. Together they tipped the wick to meet the center white candle. The flame caught as they brought it away again, and sprung up bright and strong.

#tales of zestiria #sormik #suremiku #tmariea writes #soymilk #sorey #mikleo #character death #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #marriage

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randomactuallywrites-57 · 7 years ago

Text

Gifts of All Kinds

Title: Gifts of All Kinds Author: RandomWriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 5,566 Summary: Twas the night before Christmas, And all through the town, A goblin cart rode, Letting presents rain down.

Or, Sorey and Mikleo deliver presents to their friends on Christmas Eve, whilst hoping their Christmas wishes will come true.

Notes: Happy holidays everyone! So I recently found the Asteria Christmas outfits for Sorey and Mikleo and I couldn't resist writing a oneshot where the two of them wear those outfits. It kind of spiralled into this. I hope you all enjoy it! Wishing you all the best for the end of 2017 and all of 2018! Also on: AO3

Mikleo wishes he hadn’t agreed to this.

To be fair, Sorey’s ideas aren’t usually this regrettable. With Sorey’s ideas, there’s generally a clear indication of when Mikleo needs to put his foot down.

For whatever reason, he hadn’t thought this plan required such a thing. Perhaps because he hadn’t understood what it fully entailed, at the time.

Now, as he stands in Sorey’s room, dressed in red and white, he knows he was wrong.

“Do I really have to wear this?” he asks, picking at the soft fabric of his red jacket, which is lined with a white faux fur.

“Of course you do! It won’t be as good if you don’t,” calls Sorey from inside the bathroom, where he is currently changing into his own outfit.

Mikleo has to admit, the quality of the outfit isn’t bad: the fabric is soft and warm, and the styling isn’t the worst that he’s seen. The long jacket looks nice when paired with the knee-length beige boots and white trousers he’s been given. No, it’s the accessories which put him off, especially in addition to the purpose for which these outfits will be used.

He flicks the reindeer antlers on his head, and the bells attached to the holly jingle merrily.

“Going to people’s houses at this time of night was a bad enough idea,” Mikleo says, “but wearing this is going to make it even more ridiculous.”

The door to the en-suite bathroom clicks open, and Sorey’s reply is clearer, this time. “You don’t look ridiculous. It actually really suits you!”

Turning to the source of the sound, Mikleo pauses at the sight of his friend. If Mikleo supposedly suits his own outfit, he has nothing on Sorey, who owns the outfit as if it was styled specifically for him. His red jacket is slightly different from Mikleo’s, with a far larger hood and white puffball buttons, paired with red trousers and black boots. Atop his head sits a red santa hat, which is a far more sophisticated piece of headwear than that which Mikleo wears, in Mikleo’s opinion.

He actually looks like he’s meant to be a sort of modern Santa Claus, whereas Mikleo just looks silly.

Sorey frowns and moves over to Mikleo, scrutinising his outfit. “You forgot the bell.”

“But that’s the worst part-”

Before Mikleo can protest any more, Sorey picks up the large yellow bell from where Mikleo left it on Sorey’s bed, slipping the green bow over his head. It’s a bit of fuss, considering he doesn’t remove the antlers before he attempts this, but he eventually succeeds. It falls on Mikleo’s collarbone, between the lapels of his jacket. Mikleo glares at Sorey, then transfers this glare towards the bell, as though it is the one who has wronged him.

“Don’t look like that,” Sorey says with a laugh. “It looks great! Perfect, even.”

“Says the one who actually has a decent outfit!”

“You’re meant to be a reindeer! You can’t be a reindeer without a jingle bell.” He taps the bell for added effect, though its sound is muted against Mikleo’s chest.

“I already have bells on the antlers,” Mikleo says. As if for added effect, the bells chime along with the movement of his head when he looks back up at Sorey. “The whole town is going to hear me coming a mile away.”

Sorey cocks his head to the side with an expression entirely too innocent for the one who purchased these outfits in the first place. “Isn’t that the point, though? That’s why Santa has bells on his sleigh- Oh, that reminds me!”

Before Mikleo can ask what he’s planning now, Sorey grabs his hand and pulls him out of his room, heading through the flat into the living room. The feeling of Sorey’s gloved hand against Mikleo’s bare one might have been comforting, if he wasn’t already dreading finding out the next part of the plan.

When they reach the living room, Sorey drops Mikleo’s hand and heads to the opposite side of the small room, where something stands, covered by a thick red cloth. He grabs the cloth and pulls it away with a flourish, grinning when the thing underneath is revealed.

Mikleo face-palms.

“The goblin cart? Really?”

A wooden cart stands against the wall, decorated with tinsel and a cardboard reindeer head, with fake snow glued onto the top and edges. He isn’t sure whether it actually looks better now than it did when it was a simple replica cart from Sorey’s favourite film, or if the decorations simply look garish. On the back of the cart sits a sack filled with colourfully-wrapped presents. Mikleo recognises quite a few of them, having wrapped many of them himself.

Putting his hands on his hips, Sorey puffs out his chest in pride. “It looks great, right? It makes the perfect sleigh!”

“If you think I’m pulling you along on the goblin cart, I refuse.”

“What? No, you’ll be on the cart with me! I can drive it, don’t worry.” Sorey grins, standing on the cart and wheeling it out of its corner and into the centre of the room. Sleigh bells jingle on the front of the cart. “Shall we?”

Rolling his eyes, Mikleo ignores the hand Sorey offers to him, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you going to get it through the door if no one opens it for you?”

For a moment, he pauses before scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Oh, right. Thanks, Mikleo.”

The two manage to manoeuvre the cart through the flat and the hall outside, taking the lift downstairs instead of trying to carry it downstairs; neither of them can forget what happened last time they tried to do that. Waving cheerfully to the perplexed receptionist, Sorey wheels the cart through the front door, which Mikleo closes behind them, shaking his head all the while.

Outside, it is far colder than it had been only hours ago, though that’s to be expected considering the time. Luckily there isn’t any snow yet, and it hasn’t been raining recently, so they won’t have to worry about ice, either. The streets are only covered by a thin veil of frost, which Sorey’s cart should easily be able to navigate over.

“No snow,” Sorey says, his expression a little sad. “Bummer.”

“Makes it easier for you to drive, though,” Mikleo says. “Hey, it might snow later?”

“I hope it does! Imagine if we get to have a white Christmas on our first year in Ladylake. Wouldn’t that be awesome?” Sorey turns to him with a more hopeful expression, and Mikleo doesn’t hide his own smile.

Both of them remember the years they spent together in Elysia, waking up on Christmas morning to piles of snow, deep enough that they could have buried each other in it. (Sorey even tried to do that, once. Needless to say, neither Mikleo nor either of their mothers were happy about it.)

After opening their presents, they’d always spend the afternoon out in the snow, building snow-villages and having snowball fights which always ended up with both of them returning home, shivering from how doused in the cold they became. Their mothers would scold them, but there was always sure to be a hot bubble bath running upstairs that the two of them would fight to be the first to use, and a steaming mug of hot chocolate for the loser of said fight. Once the first person finished in the bath, they’d switch over, then spend the evening wrapped in warm blankets by the window, watching more snow drift downward, illuminated by the moonlight. Countless times had they fallen asleep like that, with their heads on each other’s shoulders, barely lucid when their mothers picked them up to put them to bed.

Obviously the last part only really happened when they were young kids, but they still managed to fall asleep on each other even as teens. In fact, Mikleo won’t be surprised if tomorrow night, they end up doing the same thing again.

“Yeah,” Mikleo replies.

This time when Sorey offers him a hand, Mikleo takes it, climbing up onto the goblin cart - or goblin sleigh, as Sorey corrects him. The metal handrail is freezing against his fingertips, and he wishes that his costume came with gloves, like Sorey’s.

Sorey begins carting them through the streets of Ladylake, their speed only mildly faster than it would have been if they were walking. Still, Mikleo doesn’t have room to complain - they already got the cart down from the flat, so they might as well make the most of it. Luckily, the streets are devoid of people, so no one has to witness two strange university students on a Christmas-themed cart. It’s bad enough that they’re going to see people they know anyway; if strangers had been here to see this too, Mikleo isn’t sure he’d last very long at all.

Their first stop comes up not too far from their flat, in the form of a tenement building a few streets down. Sorey parks the goblin sleigh outside of the building, and whilst he chains it to a nearby railing (which Mikleo thinks is unnecessary, because who would want to steal a goblin cart, anyway?), Mikleo digs the first presents they need out of the present sack. He hands one to Sorey, and the two head up the stairs to the front door, pressing the buzzer for the flat they need.

A few minutes pass in silence before the door opens, revealing to them the tired face of their friend Lailah, a student a few years older than them. The fact that she’s in red pyjamas patterned with snowflakes makes Mikleo wonder if they’ve just woken her up. She blinks in confusion at the sight of them.

“Sorey? Mikleo? What…?”

“Merry Christmas!” Sorey says cheerfully, with Mikleo mumbling it along with him. They hold out the presents in their hands.

Lailah puts a hand to her chest in surprise. “What? Oh, you didn’t have to get us anything!”

Sorey nudges the present towards her. “We wanted to! There’s one for you as well as one for Edna.”

“Thank you both,” she says, smiling kindly as she takes the gifts from the two of them. “Would you like to come in for a warm drink? I’m sure Edna would love to see you both.”

“Actually, we need to head off,” Sorey says, looking a little saddened about the fact. “Still got lots more presents to deliver!”

Giggling, Lailah says, “Well, who am I to keep Santa Sorey waiting? Oh, and Mikleo, you make a very cute reindeer.”

Mikleo feels his face heat up with embarrassment, but Sorey only puts an arm around his shoulders and says, “He does, doesn’t he?”

“S-Sorey!”

Lailah laughs again, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “Don’t be frosty, Mikleo! I’m sure you’re very reindear to Sorey. He seems to be fawned of you in that outfit.”

“Baby reindeer are known as calves,” a new voice says over the chorus of groans that come from the boys. "But nice try."

The three of them turn to see Edna standing just behind Lailah, wearing her own normin-themed pyjamas, her hair tied into pigtails. If they didn’t already know she was in the same year as Lailah, anyone would have thought Edna was ten years younger than she really is.

None of them get the chance to answer before she sees Mikleo and grins devilishly.

“Oh, it’s Reindeerleo. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Don’t give me reindeer-based nicknames, please.”

Sorey interrupts by saying, “Merry Christmas, Edna! We brought presents.”

Lailah passes the present labelled ‘For Edna’ to her flatmate, whose face betrays surprise for only a moment before returning to its usual sceptical expression.

“Thanks, though you totally didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to,” Sorey says cheerfully. “Now, we should probably get going, or else we won’t get all the presents delivered.”

The two girls wave them goodbye before closing the door, leaving Sorey and Mikleo to return to the goblin sleigh, which is (perhaps unfortunately) right where they left it. Unchaining it from the fence, the two head off through the streets once more, moving towards the city centre.

The city centre is alight with Christmas decorations, far more sophisticated than the cheap things they’ve stuck up in their flat. Bright lights fill the square, with a giant Christmas tree as the centrepiece, topped with a traditional star. Though this tree is overall better-decorated than their one, Mikleo still prefers their own, if only because the topper on theirs is a doll of a seraph that they found in an antiques store when they first arrived in Ladylake, and it fits with their overall theme of ‘A Celestial Christmas’. Most of their decorations are to do with the old Shepherd myths, with some of their baubles being the signs of the Five Lords and the Shepherd.

It might look a bit messy when paired with cheap tinsel and fairy lights, but it has more sentimental value, in Mikleo’s opinion.

They pass through the city centre and head towards another residential area. Rather than the nice flats and tenement buildings of the last area, here they find the student accommodation, which looks as cheap as it is to live in. Though many have filled their windows with decorations, it hardly detracts from the peeling paint on the doors or that one cracked window in the flat building which they stop outside of.

When they head up to the door this time, Mikleo keeps half a eye out on the goblin sleigh - not out of worry for the sleigh itself, but for the presents they’ve left in the sack there. They’re not expensive gifts, or ones which people are likely to want to steal, but leaving them behind makes him feel anxious regardless.

Before he can suggest that he stays with the cart, however, the door clicks open, and Sorey pushes it, letting the lukewarm air from inside the building come out to meet them.

“You coming?” he says.

With one last look at the cart, Mikleo shakes off his fears. No one is here to steal their gifts. It’ll be fine. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Taking the creaky old lift up to the seventh floor, they head along to the last flat in the corridor, one which bears a single piece of tinsel in the shape of a circle on it in place of a wreath. Sorey knocks on the door, and though they don’t mind waiting this time, since it’s warm inside the building, it only takes a moment for a fully-dressed Rose to answer the door, her grin as bright as her red hair.

“Merry Christmas you guys!” she says to greet them. Her eyes flick over their outfits, taking on a more confused expression. “What are you wearing?”

“I’m Santa Sorey, and he’s Reindeerleo,” Sorey says, much to Mikleo’s chagrin. “We bring gifts!”

“Ooh, presents! Should I wake Dezel up?”

Mikleo shakes his head, then regrets it when the bells on his antlers jingle with the movement. “Er, no, don’t worry about that. Just put them under your tree and you can both open them tomorrow.”

“Oh, we don’t have a tree,” Rose says. “Well, we kind of do, but it’s made out of beer cans. And it’s more of a pyramid. But I can put them near it!”

“Just how many beer cans do you need to make a Christmas tree?” Mikleo asks under his breath, but he doesn’t get an answer.

Instead, Sorey shrugs and hands over the present in his hands, which gets Mikleo to follow suit. “Sure, that works! We should probably go, though, since we’ve still got some to deliver.”

Rose tucks the presents under her arm before producing her phone from her pocket. “Can I get a photo first?”

As little as Mikleo wants this moment to be immortalised on Rose’s phone, Sorey agrees, and with Sorey’s arm back around his shoulders, there’s no chance of escape. All he can do is smile forcedly as Rose snaps a picture of the two of them before taking a quick selfie with them.

“It was great seeing you guys,” she says once she’s done. “Have a great one!”

“You too! See you later!”

They head back down in the elevator. Mikleo lets out a sigh of relief once they reach the front door of the building. Honestly, he knew Rose would be one of the more annoying people to encounter whilst wearing something like this, but that didn’t actually go as badly as he’d expected it to. Then again, he doesn’t want to think about what Rose might do with those pictures.

The cold air shocks their skin as they step back into it, but that’s nothing compared to the dread which fills them when they turn to see that their goblin cart has disappeared.

“No,” Sorey whispers, moving over to pick up the broken chain from the ground. “Did someone steal it?”

Mikleo feels a lump in his throat. That goblin cart, as strange as it is to have in the flat, was a present hand-made by Sorey’s grandfather, Gramps, for his birthday a few months ago. He’d treasured it ever since, and to see that someone had actually had the gall to steal it, even though they’d secured it and everything…

Even if he doesn’t think the goblin cart is valuable to himself, for Sorey it meant the world.

“Sorey…” He walks over to comfort his friend, and halts in his steps when he sees the sack of presents lying on the ground. Changing direction, he picks up the sack and frowns when he sees that all of the presents they had left are still intact within the bag. “They only stole the cart?”

“That is strange,” Sorey says. He moves to Mikleo’s side, examining the bag with him. “You’d think they’d want the presents too, but it doesn’t look like they even checked what the presents were before discarding them.”

“I wonder why someone would do that.” Mikleo’s frown deepens, and he looks around the area for any more clues. “If only there were tracks or something we could follow…”

A warm hand on his shoulder distracts him from his thoughts, and he looks over to see Sorey smiling gently at him.

“Let’s forget about the cart for now,” he says, his tone only a little disappointed. “We still have the presents, right? We’ll take care of them first, then we can get the cart back.”

Mikleo stares at his friend. “Whoever stole the cart could be miles away at that point, though.”

Sorey shrugs. “We’ll find it eventually. Come on, let’s go.”

Taking the sack of presents from Mikleo, Sorey hauls it over his shoulder and begins to walk in the direction of their next destination, leaving Mikleo baffled behind him. He knew Sorey was emotionally strong - has seen it countless times, when he’s done badly on tests or been rejected for things he’s wanted to do badly. But for him to give up something so dear to him so he can give presents to his friends without delay…

For the thousandth time, Mikleo feels a warmth and affection for Sorey which cannot be denied.

In this moment, though, all he can do is shove it to the side as he jogs to catch up with his friend, walking alongside him in the cold, towards the next place.

“Do we really have to-”

“Come on, Mikleo, we can’t just leave him out.”

“But it’s Zaveid, I’m sure he wouldn’t even care. We can just give him it on Boxing Day.”

“But he won’t get to open it on Christmas Day like everyone else! Come on, Mikleo!”

When Sorey grabs Mikleo’s hand again, he doesn’t have any choice but to follow.

The two head up to their next destination, a house covered in the most garish of decorations. Lights cover every inch of the building, and a suspicious-looking blow-up Santa doll greets them outside the door.

Mikleo looks over to Sorey, ready to protest again, but his friend knocks on the door before he can say anything.

“It’ll be fine,” Sorey says, glancing over to him with a smile. “It’s just Zaveid.”

In theory, Mikleo knows Sorey is right. Zaveid isn’t exactly someone to be feared. The only reason he’s apprehensive is because Zaveid’s teasing can be even worse than Edna’s, depending on the subject matter. Mikleo, unfortunately, finds himself as that subject matter more often than not.

Rolling his eyes, he catches sight of something at the top edge of his vision. He looks up above himself and Sorey at the roof of the porch above them, and he freezes.

Dangling sweetly above their heads is a sprig of mistletoe.

Part of Mikleo instantly wants to slam his head against a wall. He should have known that Zaveid would pull a stunt like this, if only because it might be his only chance of actually getting a girl to kiss him without being too drunk to think any better of it. Not that he imagines it’s very effective anyway, but regardless.

He hears Sorey take in a sharp breath, and looks over to see that he too has spotted the plant. Sorey’s eyes flick over to him, and they only hold each other’s gaze for a moment before they both avert their eyes, cheeks stained with a pink that doesn’t come from the cold.

To be honest, Mikleo doesn’t even know why he’s getting so flustered about this. Mistletoe is a stupid tradition, and it’s not like anyone is going to come out and shame them for not partaking in it.

Then again, they’ve already knocked on Zaveid’s door, and if anyone’s going to egg them on for something like this…

Maybe they should just do it. A peck on the cheek would probably be enough, and at least even something as small as that might finally end the dancing they’ve been doing around each other for months now. Mikleo has noticed the way that Sorey sometimes looks at him, with an expression with which one might regard their favourite book. He also can’t deny that he has flirted subtly with Sorey, and Sorey hasn’t only acknowledged it but responded in kind. Maybe this will be their chance to take things a step further.

Besides if they get it done quickly, then there’s no way Zaveid will catch them in the act.

Making up his mind, Mikleo turns to Sorey, ready to lean up to kiss his cheek-

Only at the same time, Sorey turns to face him, to do what Mikleo isn’t sure and perhaps he’ll never know-

They both stop with their noses pressed against each other, their breaths intermingling. Neither of them can look away this time, caught in the gaze of the other, green and violet meeting in such close terms. Mikleo can hear the bells on his antlers twinkling softly, can feel the warmth of Sorey’s hand, which has come to grasp his own, though he doesn’t know when that happened.

Mikleo lets his eyes begin to drift shut, shuffling closer to Sorey, whose breathing stops for a moment before he does the same. Tentatively, they lean in, craving the warmth they are sure to find in the other’s-

The door slams open.

“Merry Christmas!” yells a very drunken voice.

Springing apart, Mikleo and Sorey try to look anywhere other than at each other, or at the person who has just answered the door to them. A strange lump - is it shame? Guilt? Regret? - forms in Mikleo’s throat, and he puts a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his blush.

“M-merry Christmas, Zaveid,” Sorey says, his voice wavering a little as he holds out Zaveid’s gift to him. When Mikleo chances a glance at him, he sees that Sorey is also doing his best to avoid eye contact.

Zaveid, on the other hand, seems to have no idea what he’s just interrupted - though perhaps that’s just the alcohol. Mikleo sincerely hopes it’s the alcohol which has prompted him to wear nothing but a pair of red boxers and a Santa hat, with his chest and legs bare to the winter chill.

“A gift? For me? Oh, you’re too good to me, Sheps,” Zaveid slurs, taking the gift with a lopsided grin. “You too, Mickey-boy.”

“Well, we’d best be going!” Sorey says in a falsely cheery voice. “Have a good night, Zaveid.”

“Wait, you can’t just abandon me on my porch!” Zaveid says. “It’s Christmas.”

“Sorry, places to go, things to do. Bye!”

Sorey and Mikleo rush away from Zaveid’s house, ignoring the drunken yelling which follows them, though luckily their friend does not leave his porch in pursuit.

Once they get far enough away from Zaveid’s house that they know he won’t follow, they stop, breathing heavily. It is only then that they meet each other’s eyes again. The contact lasts only a moment before they both look away, still embarrassed.

“L-let’s get going,” Mikleo says, picking up the almost-empty gift bag from where Sorey dropped it when they stopped. “Only Alisha left now, right?”

Sorey nods with a constricted sound of approval, and the two of them head off once more, the silence between them more awkward than ever.

When they reach Alisha’s house - or rather, her front gate - Mikleo and Sorey share a look of unease.

Behind the giant gates lie two lines of trees, flanking a path which leads towards a house which looks big from this distance, which means it must be massive up close. The house and its garden are decorated with perhaps the most sophisticated decorations they’ve seen yet, with warm white fairy lights tangling around each tree, and other light works creating the impression that this place could be Santa’s house.

Sorey gulps audibly. “S-say, do you think they’ll let us in?”

“At this time of night?” Mikleo says, arching an eyebrow. “I’ll be surprised if Alisha’s guard dog doesn’t chew us up before the gates are fully open.”

“Just because you’re afraid of dogs doesn’t mean they’re all bad,” Sorey chides. “Besides, I’d be more worried about Maltran, if I were you.”

Mikleo grimaces. He’s only met Ms Maltran once, and it was not an event which he likes to remember, considering that it was on the night where Rose managed to persuade Alisha to drink one cocktail too many, resulting in Sorey and Mikleo having to cart their friends back to their homes, being the only sober ones left standing. Ms Maltran, Alisha’s guardian, coldly told them to leave as soon as she took Alisha off their hands, and according to Alisha, she had a major scolding the next morning. After that, she didn’t dare drink so much again.

“Should we just leave the gift here then?” Mikleo says, pulling their final gift-wrapped box from inside the bag. Since it’s small, no one would notice it if they hide it in the shadows of the gate, but that might only mean that Alisha won’t receive it at all.

Sorey shakes his head. “Let’s at least try the buzzer. Maybe a maid will be awake to take it.”

Sighing, Mikleo watches as Sorey presses the buzzer on the pillar holding the gate up, the LED screen reflecting blue onto his face. For a long moment, nothing happens, and the two of them look at each other, wondering if they should just leave.

A click stops them from doing so.

“Who is it?” a crackly voice says through the receiver.

“Ah, hi! This is Sorey and Mikleo. We’re friends of Alisha’s.”

“And what do you want at this time of the night? Surely you know that Lady Alisha has a strict curfew-”

“Yes, we’re aware,” Sorey says, accidentally cutting the maid off. “Actually, we’re here to deliver her a Christmas present.”

“Could you not have done so at a more appropriate hour?”

At that, even Sorey cannot find a good excuse. It had been his idea to deliver their presents in the hour leading up to midnight, after all.

“We deeply apologise for disturbing you,” Mikleo says. “Would it be at all a bother for us to leave the gift in your hands, though? Since we’ve come all this way.”

The maid sighs deeply. “I suppose you might as well. Drop it in the delivery hatch.”

As she says this, a metal panel opens on the wall, revealing a chute into a delivery box. Mikleo pops the box into the chute. It lands in the box with a dull thud.

“Thank you,” Sorey says.

“Good night,” says the maid curtly, and the intercom clicks off.

The two boys wait a moment before relaxing, the empty sack falling limp in Mikleo’s hand. Finally, they’re finished.

Sorey turns to Mikleo with a smile. “Looks like we did it.”

Mikleo meets his gaze, his own lips tugging upward. “Somehow.”

Together, they begin the trek back home, taking a slow pace now that they have no obligations left. Mikleo looks up to the sky, frowning when the stars are hidden from view by clouds.

Following his gaze, Sorey says, “This night sure has been weird.”

Mikleo looks over to Sorey. “I agree. Who knew delivering presents so late at night could be so eventful?”

“Yeah! I mean, we had an annoyed maid, a drunken Zaveid, a goblin sleigh thief…”

Humming, Mikleo pulls the sack up into his arms, his fingers threading through it. “About the cart. Couldn’t we find it? We’re done delivering presents, after all.”

He feels Sorey’s eyes on him, and can sense his surprise at the words.

“I thought you didn’t like the goblin cart?” he says. “I honestly thought you’d be glad to see it gone.”

Mikleo shakes his head, the bells on his antlers jingling with him. “Even if I think it’s silly, I know how much it means to you. We should get it back.” After a few steps, he realises that Sorey has stopped. He turns to face him. “Sorey?”

His friend’s expression is unreadable for a moment, his eyes hidden beneath his fringe. He walks over to Mikleo, pausing a foot or so in front of him.

Before Mikleo can even react, Sorey kisses him.

Mikleo melts into the action, though he doesn’t get a chance to reciprocate before Sorey pulls back, his cheeks flushed. His lips tug into a goofy smile, one which makes Mikleo’s heart sing.

“Thank you,” Sorey says, eyes shining.

A rugged breath comes from Mikleo’s lips, and he somehow manages to say, “If I’d known supporting your goblin cart fantasies would get you to do that, I’d have built the damn thing myself.”

Sorey laughs, his voice sweeter than a choir of children singing carols. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

With an uncontainable smile, Mikleo puts his cold hands on Sorey’s cheeks, grinning when Sorey flinches at the sudden chill. As if to make up for it, he pulls Sorey’s face forward and presses a kiss to his lips, lingering when Sorey reciprocates, the warmth of their breaths intertwining. Gloved hands come to rest snugly on Mikleo’s waist, and the bells above Mikleo’s head twinkle when he tilts his chin, allowing their kiss to deepen.

Neither knows how long they spend kissing, but when they part, it is to the feeling of something cold and wet falling around them.

Gasping, Sorey looks up to the sky, his bright eyes widening. “Snow…!”

Around them, lumps of white drift to the earth, peaceful in their descent. They stick to the ground, managing not to dissolve in the chill. By morning, Mikleo knows the road will be coated in white, the branches of trees dipping with the weight of snow.

“Guess you got your Christmas wish after all,” Mikleo says, absently playing with the hair at the nape of Sorey’s neck. “We’ll have a white Christmas this year, too.”

Sorey turns his attention back to Mikleo, eyes warm with affection. “The snow is nice, but my Christmas wish this year was you.”

Mikleo blushes at his words, burying his face into Sorey’s chest with embarrassment. “You’re so cheesy, Sorey.”

As Sorey leans down to press a kiss to his hair, however, he smiles and whispers, “You’re my Christmas wish too, Sorey.”

The next morning, Mikleo awakens caught in a warm embrace. As much as he wants to snuggle further into it, however, his phone buzzes quietly, somehow not waking the softly snoring boy next to him. Pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, Mikleo slips out of Sorey’s bed, taking his phone through into the living room, where Sorey will not be awoken by his conversation.

“Hello?”

“Good morning,” the receptionist from downstairs says. “Someone left something at the front office for you to collect.”

“Oh? I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“Well, I assumed it was yours considering you left with it last night.”

Mikleo blinks, the cogs in his head turning slowly. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

When he gets downstairs and finds the goblin sleigh, fully intact, he can’t help but smile wryly.

Maybe Sorey’s Christmas wish was for him, or for snow, but he’s sure he’ll like this surprise, too.

#sormik #soymilk #tales of zestiria #tales of zestiria fanfic #toz #hey look it's a christmas fic #there may or may not be a mistletoe in there somewhere #also this is a modern au in university for ease of context #wouldn't make much sense in canon to have christmas lol

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dustingrayves · 8 years ago

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coeo

Pairing: sormik Rating: T WC: 1009 AU: tainted AU Notes: hey. hey

ao3 mirror sormik week, day 1 [beginnings]

The castle towers tall, stone so cold he can feel it even standing paces away. Head craned back, he looks up, watching the contrast of the dark walls against the pale yellows and pinks of the setting sun.

And then he decides he had stalled enough. His feet disobey only momentarily, and then he's pushing the main entrance open, a heavy wooden door thrice his height.

Malevolence rolls from inside in thick waves, like smoke being let out of a room. It hits him like a wall and he pushes through the wall, entering and shutting the door behind himself.

The inside is barely lit, and even the few candles burning on the mounted holders appear dimmer than normal. Wood creaks beneath his feet until he steps onto a dark carpet, and then everything is quiet.

The malevolence around him is like molasses, so thick it feels like it’s slowing him down as he steps forward, placing a foot onto the first step of the rounded staircase leading to a balcony. He isn’t sure why he goes there when the corridors wind left and right, equally like to have the one he’s looking for inside them.

But the malevolence is strongest straight ahead, and so he ascends the stairs, fingers gliding over the railing.

A large ornamented door stands before him, carvings in the wood depicting a scene from an old war he has no brain power to think about right now. They’re made of heavy oak, but still yield easily when he pushes them open.

The throne room is simultaneously darker and lighter than the hallway, which should make no sense, except it does. Weak sunlight stream in from a single half-curtained window, but it dies out on the floor much sooner than it should, only lighting up the area around itself.

In the dimness, Mikleo’s eyes follow the red carpet laid out before him up to the throne, chipped and dusty on the carved decorations. A figure clad in black and red sits upon it, one leg crossed over the other, arm on the armrest.

He can’t see the face, but he knows he’s being looked at. A shiver runs down his back.

“What are you doing here?” the figure asks, almost barking it out.

Mikleo recoils; not so much at the tone, but at the words themselves. “I came after you, of course,” he says, tentatively taking a step forward.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you! Why do you think?”

The figure rises from the throne, tall, imposing. He steps forward, into the faint light, and Mikleo can finally see his features, the deep, worried frown etched into his features, the pursed lips, the tense stance. “Mikleo,” Sorey breathes out, and Mikleo’s heart flutters in his chest.

How long since he’d heard this voice say his name? Sorey hadn’t even greeted him when he’d arrived.

“I’m tainted. You can’t be here.” And just like that, the voice is back to strong and commandeering. Mikleo frowns himself.

“No,” he shakes his head defiantly. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“Mikleo. I’m tainted,” Sorey repeats, and this time he sounds exasperated. Annoyed, maybe? Is he annoyed at Mikleo? Mikleo bites down at his bottom lip as Sorey clenches his fists. He’s still staring straight at the Seraph. Truth to his words, his entire being is drenched in the malevolence, stronger than Mikleo had ever felt before. It makes his knees want to buckle, but he fights it. Somehow, it feels more welcoming than any malevolence he’d ever felt. “I can’t return.”

Mikleo giggles breathlessly (taking in a deep breath to refill his lungs. he hadn’t even realized he’d held his breath) and steps forward. When Sorey doesn’t make a move, he keeps going, until he’s face to face with him, having to angle his head just the slightest bit upwards.

“I didn’t come to bring you back,” he says. His hand reaches out to grab Sorey’s; he almost breaks out in tears when the half-gloved fingers automatically squeeze his back.

“Why are you here then? It’s dangerous.”

Mikleo squeezes Sorey’s hand, really feeling the tears gather in his eyes. “It’s always dangerous around you,” he mumbles quietly, no more than an exhale, “I came to be with you.”

Sorey pulls away like he’d been singed, lowering his head. His bangs fall into his face and Mikleo can’t see his expression like that. “You can’t. The world is going to end, and it’s the most dangerous around me. I can’t pull you along into hell again, Mik.”

“It’ll be bad everywhere. And if I have to go through hell," Mikleo says, his eyes narrowing with a lopsided smile that looks more like a grimace than a real smile. He reaches out and grabs Sorey’s hand again, fighting him for a moment. "At least let me do it with you. Please.”

“Mikleo,” Sorey breathes his name like it’s something holy, like an enchanted spell falling off his lips. It takes a few too many seconds for Mikleo to understand that he’s crying, his shoulders shaking and fingers tightening sporadically. “Mikleo, I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Mikleo squeezes his fingers back, moving a hand up to Sorey’s ashen face, cupping his cheek tenderly. “Then don’t send me away.”

Sorey stares at him with those wide green eyes Mikleo loves so much. They seem darker, and Mikleo isn’t sure it’s only because of the lack of light in the room. But they’re also glossy, swimming in unshed tears. Sorey leans into his touch, asking, “Are you sure this is something you want?”

“I had to fight tooth and nail to get here, you know?” is Mikleo’s simple answer. “You think the guys wanted to let me?”

“You’re an idiot,” Sorey says, letting go of Mikleo’s hand in favor of wrapping his arms around the Serah’s slender frame.

It feels like the malevolence is swallowing him up, warm and blanket-like as he hugs back, never wanting to let Sorey go ever again. And he never will, not even when the world shatters.

#toz #tales of zestiria #sormik #sormikweek2017 #soymilk #eso's fics #tainted au #why is this 'beginning' you may ask #thats because what happens then is basically soul nomad demon route #mine

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obliviondtd · 8 years ago

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Day 5: Lohgrin [Truth | Time]

They truly were hopeless idiots.

So my computers a bitch and my original story got deleted but this one’s better anyway it just took me all day to write. Now I’m just frustrated because someone just spent idk how long arguing with me over punctuation when I knew what I wanted it to be and Hello?! I’m the writer. (I’ve had a terrible week with stress and bad weather I need a break.)

Read on AO3

For a small town situated within a ruin, Lohgrin was lively. People bustled to and fro – telling stories, laughing, shopping – just going about their day-to-day lives. It was almost as though nothing bad was going on in their little worlds. As though they could just flit through life without any burdens. Mikleo watched them from his spot on top of a broken wall in the middle of the hub of activity. He watched, and wondered…

‘Why did things come to this?’

Between learning the truth behind the Lord of Calamity and Mayvin's untimely end, Mikleo was just… lost. He felt as though his whole life was a lie — as though this was all formulated as so he would feel the most painful effects of his role. He was a catalyst to catastrophe. Part of the blame for the world's current plight rested on his small shoulders.

Of course, in his mind, Mikleo understood the principles of causality, and that it was the previous Shepherd – no, his uncle – who used his human, infant self as a sacrifice. In his heart, however, Mikleo felt some of the blame still rested with him. His sacrifice led to the rise of the Lord of Calamity. And now… his dearest companion was forced to shoulder a burden that was his fault.

Even Mayvin's death, he noted, was partially his fault. If they hadn't needed knowledge on Heldalf's past, Mayvin would still be with them. As painful as the thought was to the young seraph, he couldn't deny his part in any of this. ‘ Perhaps,’ he found himself thinking, ‘ it would have been better had I not come with Sorey when he left. I've only caused people to suffer in the past, it seems. What right do I have to be here?’

Mikleo internally chastised himself for these thoughts. He needed to be here. He had to fight by Sorey's side, just as Gramps had wanted for him. Besides, if he had a hand in creating this Age of Chaos – regardless of willingness or circumstance – he should also do his part to see it unmade. Gathering his resolve, Mikleo hopped down from his place on the broken wall, setting towards the place where he'd find his friends.

It wasn't hard to notice that something was bothering Mikleo. And considering everything that had happened, it wasn't much of a surprise.

To say they were worried when he took off on his own for a while was a serious understatement. They'd waited until he was out of sight and earshot to talk about it, exchanging worried glances and sending pitying ones in the direction he'd disappeared in.

Of course, as expected, Sorey was the most worried. He was staring off into space, biting at his thumb as a series of emotions flashed in his eyes. Even still, he reluctantly left his lifelong companion be. Some things just need to be sorted out on one's own.

So, when the water seraph returned to the group with a look of firm resolve set on his face, they let out a collective sigh of relief. It seemed leaving him to his own devices had worked out just fine.

Except, Sorey still looked worried.

His gaze was fixed on his friend, looking for any holes in the impenetrable emotional armor he'd donned. Suddenly his eyes widened before narrowing, nearly staring a hole through Mikleo. He looked pointedly at Rose and Lailah, knowing the two would understand what he was trying to communicate without words.

He needed to talk to Mikleo alone.

Fortunately, the two did understand what he wanted to convey, and directed Zaveid and Edna elsewhere. Before they left, Rose nodded discreetly at Sorey, to which he mouthed a 'thank you' in response.

Once he was sure no one was around to hear their conversation, Sorey quickly broached the subject he knew Mikleo wanted to avoid. "You're still upset about it. You're blaming yourself when you shouldn't."

Mikleo sighed in defeat, realizing there was no escape now that he'd been caught and cornered, "Was I that obvious? I thought I hid it well enough that you wouldn't notice."

His own expressions were as emotionless as he could manage, trying far too hard to keep calm. He couldn't afford to lose it now.

"Well it wasn't that obvious. I've just known you too long to be fooled."

Mikleo shook his head, realizing the futility of relying on non-committal responses and petty assurances to fool Sorey. For years, the young seraph had acquired a skill at putting on a brave face. Also for years, Sorey had worked hard to notice when he was putting on a front. They were at a stalemate then.

"I guess since you figured it out on your own, there's no point in trying to hide anything." Mikleo leaned his back against a wall. "I'm still feeling a bit confused about everything. I understand that it's not technically my fault, but I still feel like I had some part in it. It's more of a pain than anything really." He sighed once again, adopting a wry smile. "Geez, I guess we're both hopeless idiots."

"Hey! I take offense to that!" Sorey jumped back placing his hands on his hips and fixing Mikleo with a look of mock offense. "Jokes aside, I get where you're coming from. I also can't help but feel some responsibility."

"But you had nothing to do with–"

"Let me finish." Mikleo fell silent in an instant. "Both sides from back then share some blame. Heldalf did something unforgivable when he left those poor villagers to die. But Shepherd Michael shouldn't have done what he did either. They both had reasons, though neither were good reasons."

Sorey paused. Mikleo's face was projecting all kinds of muffled, mixed emotions, but the emotional armor was beginning to fall away. That was always a good sign.

"But the point I'm making is this: Heldalf became a hellion, and thus the Lord of Calamity, because of what the previous Shepherd did. Now, the world is in serious trouble, and a good part of the blame lies with a previous Shepherd. I guess that as the current Shepherd, I also feel responsible for what happened."

"But Sorey, that's ridiculous! You had nothing to do with what happened back then. There was nothing you could have done to change what happened." Mikleo was going full "enforcer mode" (as the seraphim back home were wont to call it). This was exactly what Sorey was trying to do. "You're only responsible for your own actions!"

"That's exactly what I was trying to tell you."

Mikleo fell silent, eyes widening as his mask shattered to pieces. That was what Sorey was trying to do. And he fell for it completely. Though, Mikleo would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel a lot better. In his moment of mixed, confused emotions, he started laughing. Hard.

Sorey joined him, laughing just as hard as he felt his smaller friend start to poke at his midsection. Not one to let something like that slide, he retaliated with full force, until the two were laughing uncontrollably mirthful tears pooling in the corners of their eyes and sticking to their eyelashes.

Meanwhile, around a corner, 3 seraphim and a human girl watched from their hiding place.

"Geez, those two are such morons." Rose shook her head, amused. Edna nodded, opening her umbrella and turning away, twirling it.

Zaveid sighed, a fond but exasperated look on his face. "Honestly, those two are so obnoxious. Who would have thought the Shepherd and his Sub Lord would be such dorks..."

Lailah on the other hand was stifling her laughter in her hand. "Yes, perhaps that's true. But I do think it's rather sweet how close those two are."

"You would think that," Edna turned around to face her, "But I'm about to puke. Can we please go back so they'll stop?"

"Very well." Lailah laughed, leading the other three to meet with the two boys, who stopped what they were doing immediately, looking sheepish.

Yes, they truly were hopeless idiots.

#sormikweek2017 #day 5 #i had a hell of a time with this #and i just want a nap now

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childesballs · 8 years ago

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Rosewood Anemones Chapter 2

Word Count: 2560

Notes: Sadly, this may be the last chapter for a while because life.

Ao3 Link

Flipping through every pocket of his satchel, triple checking that he had everything, Sorey finally turned to Alisha poised behind the oak desk.

“You really don’t mind running things solo?” He asked.

“Not at all. Besides, you’re going for a business meeting. Not a date.” She smiled.

“Oh man. Rose’s got you on that too?” Sorey’s shoulders slumped along with his head. Alisha giggling behind her hand only worsened his slump.

“I know. He’s just a customer, but you never know where things will go.”

Finally righting himself, he once again checked his bag. He’d done countless meetings like this yet he somehow always forgot something. One last glance around the shop, and he said his goodbyes and made his way outside.

He lazily spun as he walked, enjoying the warm sunlight from a cloudless sky. Excitement ran through him. Work had kept him from leisurely strolling through the trees Elysia was built around. Never did a day pass where he didn’t marvel at how Elysia had started as a mountain top town and spread into the forest, yet hardly removed a tree. In his twenty three years, he’d never seen one removed, only continual building around them.

Opposite the tree line gave way to the original Elysia, and there sat mostly homes of the elders, but between them, next to a shallow natural pond, was a larger hut that had been renovated into a library.

Sorey crossed through the doorway as easily as he would his own home. Natalie, the librarian and owner of the building since pre-renovation, greeted him as usual, and questioned what reading he’d be hunting down. His head shake earned a questioning hum and a head tilt. He glanced around the tables on other side of her desk. He earned an understanding hum once she followed his eyes to a head of silver.

With only an exchange of knowing glances, he left Natalie to her business. As relaxed as usual, Sorey pulled out the chair across from Mikleo and sat down like he would for any other meeting. Everything was second nature at this point, save for the oddly heavy beating of his heart. He brushed it aside as just a result of finding this particular customer attractive, but Sorey had never been the type to go after someone on looks alone.

“Good morning.” Mikleo had closed his book and looked up with a warm smile all in one motion.

“Morning.” Sorey replied before digging through his bag for both a notebook and a smaller sketchbook than his usual. As he set things on the table, he noticed the stack of books beside Mikleo.

“Age of Darkness, huh?”

“It’s really fascinating to see how humanity shifted from coexisting seamlessly to all these divides appearing seemingly out of nowhere.”

“I always get goosebumps reading about things that happened.” Sorey shivered at the thoughts alone.

“I get that. Bad times all around, but the art that was produced is still stunning.” Mikleo shifted backwards into his chair, arms coming to rest on the table.

“Craft workers had a huge movement too. That’s actually where a lot of coffin making techniques still used today originate.” Sorey hadn’t thought until the words left his mouth. Part of him expected Mikleo to shrink back, even though that’s what they were here to talk about.

“To last that long, those must be seriously solid techniques.” Mikleo held a hand to his chin, talking more to himself than Sorey.

“With how rampant diseases were, craftsmen had to find quick and cheap methods they could reproduce easily. Designs became simple and less meaningful, more focused on a solid structure, but the general population preferred it.”

“Makes sense. Why get all detailed with something that gets buried?”

“It’s why I couldn’t specialize in them; it may be an outdated belief, but I still think that both what someone is buried in and with affects their afterlife.”

“Definitely outdated. Old and uncool,” Mikleo smirked “but it’s why I came to you.” His head lowered, eyes falling with it. “So… how do we start this? Can’t say I’ve ever ordered something like this before.” He stammered.

“Well, we got Rosewood being your preference, so next would be figuring out design elements, and anything symbolic you want to include.”

“There’s so many styles though… of course I love Avarost and the like used in the Lefay Shrine…” Mikleo’s ramblings went on nearly non-stop, Sorey nodding and humming as he took notes and narrowed down the specifics of what he liked, all to keep him talking so Sorey could eventually find the patterns that Mikleo likely wasn’t aware of.

All of Sorey’s years doing custom work and he’d learned that people always had penchants and patterns in what they liked, yet most people never noticed. So he’d do this; get them just talking and extrapolate those patterns. As Sorey flipped a page, Mikleo stopped abruptly.

“You… You’ve been taking that many notes?”

“Sorry. Should I have asked first?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just… not used to people following along… with everything.” His stunned eyes fell onto Sorey’s notebook, catching all the margin notes. Sorey scribbled a few last notes before pulling over his sketchbook. He went into his bag, looking for one thing that was not there. He had checked his bag three times, and what had he forgotten? A ruler. His audible groan met a raised eyebrow. He hesitated to admit the situation. He’d have accepted the blush spreading over his cheeks as his only response, but then Mikleo laughed, and Sorey’s earrings clinked as he snapped around with an irritated groan.

Before Sorey could say a word, a gold accented green ruler was being offered to him.

“I’m not an artist, but I’ve grown used to carrying the oddest things around for people.” Mikleo explain as he released the ruler into Sorey’s grasp.

Sorey knew he would zone out if he let himself focus solely on sketching, so he started rambling his thought process. He glanced up occasionally to make sure he hadn’t lost Mikleo, who held his chin the entire time. Violet eyes followed each line Sorey made; every so often his head would lift for a question or comment, but he mostly remained silent.

Sorey had lost track of time when he sat back, pencil rolling across the table. Spanning numerous pages were drawings small and large of coffin after coffin from every angle, and all sorts of design possibilities. Mikleo spent some minutes examining each one, picking and pulling what he liked from each one, ultimately ending in Sorey offering to spend a day or two creating more detailed sketches and pulling everything together.

With that conversation at a close, they slid out of their seats, Mikleo re-shelving the books he’d taken, before they exited the building. Passing through the doorway, Sorey turned towards Mikleo.

“I was gonna get lunch at Mason’s, if you want to join.” Sorey’s nervousness showed.

“Ah, sorry. I’ve got plans with my sister.”

“Nothing to apologize for. But um… if you wanted to swing by the shop for progress updates.” Sorey rubbed his neck.

“I’ll think about it.” Mikleo said coldly as he retrieved his phone and fingers danced over the keyboard. Sorey shrank back, feeling he’d crossed a boundary. The only words left between them was a single question of if Sorey needed anything else for the project. He shook his head and received a stiff ‘goodbye’ before Mikleo took his leave.

Sorey sighed before heading back down the hill, checking his messages from Alisha that she’d closed up the shop and gone out to lunch. Part of him wanted to keep rambling about historical ages and everything that went with them, while his artist side itched to carve a relief of nothing but Temperance of Avarost designs.

Throughout the whole walk back to his shop, Sorey’s hands stayed behind his head as he contemplated what designs he wanted to work with for the coffin. He’d have to dig out his book on the Lefay shrine. Or maybe he’d do an entire portrait of that shrine before ever touching the coffin. He tussled his hair; he had too many ideas and he couldn’t pick even two or three.

Loud groaning vibrating against his closed lips, he unlocked the shop and pushed through with his shoulder. Crossing the sunlit room, he passed into the back room after tossing his bag under the desk. Flipping a couple switches brought soft light to the entire shop.

The backroom hadn’t been given near the care of the front. Originally, it was nothing more than storage. Sorey had gone through the trouble of tearing up carpeted floors in favor of tile. Though he’d never done anything about the stark white walls, over time he had covered them with various history posters and his own art inspirations. He’d gotten a large cube table that sat centered and acted as his main work area. Dotted around the room were various bits of wood, paint, and unorthodox carving tools. A back closet kept his table top lathe until he needed it.

He shuffled over to the cabinets that he’d installed himself specifically for food and drink storage. The amount of times he’d spent an entire night in this room were uncountable. Despite his large tea stash, nothing jumped out, so he blindly grabbed. Taking the tea pot from the sink below, he filled it and then set it on a heat element that most certainly wasn’t made for boiling water, but it worked just as well.

While he waited, he moved to a stack of books sitting on a corner of the table. None of them the one he wanted, but he pulled out one on the Age of Darkness and the Age of Calamity. Crude, rough, scratchy designs sprang up from those eras, yet they oddly mixed with the smooth and flowy designs of the Temperance of Avarost.

Allowing himself just a few loose sketches was enough for the water to boil. His mind still buzzed with the things he’d come up with; papers with notes and doodles and everything that was the visual of his creative process sprawled across the table.

“Sorey?” A voice said. He hadn’t heard the bells.

“Back here.” He hollered before making a mental note to check the bells later.

“I shouldn’t be surprised— oh what’s this?” Alisha paused as her eyes traveled around the table.

“Huh? What is it?” Sorey cocked his head as he poured a second glass before burying himself back in his work.

“Mmmh, quite the sudden dive into Temperance of Avarost? What happened to the Era of Asgard?”.

“You know I jump around.”

“Surely this wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain man would it?” Sorey instantly went as red as his tea kettle.

“W-what are you getting at?” He scratched his jaw, jinging an earring. Only now had Sorey directly met her gaze.

“Hmmm, only that Rose may be correct about you having a crush.” She held a trembling finger to her lip, faint red eyes turned upwards as she spoke,

“Gah, c’mon! I know you two got together after what? A week? It takes more than that for me.”

She laughed weakly, the sound ringing wrongly in Sorey’s ears.

“As they say, ‘one can’t control matters of the heart.’” Her voice dipped. Too low. She pulled a chair over to sit next to him, taking the cup he’d set for her. Everything was wrong, and Sorey had finally stopped debating whether he’d pretend not to see it.

“What’s wrong?” Her head snapped away, silence ringing.

“I wanted Rose to be here, but… I received some news…” She couldn’t look anywhere near Sorey.

“Alisha, what happened?” Sorey steeled himself, bracing for any and everything.

“Boris… he…” she shuddered, “he’s gone Sorey…” He nearly fell off his stool. Goosebumps raised across every inch of him, chest beginning to heave. Finally Alisha meet his headlight gaze, and seeing how much effort she was using to hold herself together, Sorey slid off his chair and wrapped his arms around her. Instantly she clung to him, tears bursting as she sobbed into his chest.

They knew any day could be this one, yet neither could have prepared for it. Military duty came with tragedy looming within every second. Still holding Alisha, Sorey managed to pull his phone out and call Rose, who could do a much better job of calming Alisha down than he could. Rose had never met either Strelka brother; both having joined the military straight out of high school. For Sorey and Alisha though, Sergei and Boris had been their best friends since elementary.

Alisha hadn’t been able to say anything to Rose, who started freaking out the moment she heard sniffles. Sorey took to stroking her hair as he mustered up the strength to speak. His words broke too many times to count, but he strung together enough fragments to communicate that he wanted her to come to them when she could. Not even five minutes after their call ended, she was there.

Rose had pulled up another stool beside Alisha, and in a matter of minutes, had Alisha haphazardly laying across her and Sorey’s laps. Keeping her arms securely locked around Alisha, Rose turned up to Sorey.

“How’re you holding up?”

“It hurts… but I’ll manage. It’s her I’m worried about.” Sorey gazed at the sleep talking Alisha.

“Yeah. I hope I can actually help her through this.” Rose’s grip on Alisha’s shoulder tightened.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever seen her sleep on.”

She smiled, melancholy in her eyes as she twirled blonde hair. Rose spent a few moments staring down an Alisha, tucking loose strands behind her ear.

“We should probably get her home.” Sorey suggested. Rose nodded before gently shaking Alisha’s shoulder. Through her sleepy stupor, she’d forgotten what had happened, and hyperfocused on why she’d fallen asleep in Aroundight Woods. Sorey convinced her to not worry about that and they headed home, Sorey leaving all but his keys and phone there.

Half way home, Alisha trembled, a hand coming over her mouth. She’d woken up enough to remember, and everything hit her again. Sorey took her free hand and gave her every assurance he could think of. It took Sorey holding her hand, and Rose her shoulders to get her home, but once they did, she collapsed into bed, coiling around Rose like a snake. Sorey left with a small smile before retreating to his own room.

There, he checked his phone for the first time in hours to see a message from Sergei asking if they could talk. Sorey agreed to the phone call, and did his best to stuff everything down as he heard the details, and heard how broken Sergei was, yet putting on that practiced facade. Though Sorey was certain his squeaks and sniffles broke his own facade.

Routine border patrol, something as common and everyday as eating for them, yet this one day, Boris’ squad found mines strategically placed to create a landslide that buried every one of them.

Sorey remained on the phone well into the night, until he hadn’t a shred of doubt that Sergei was okay. Once Sorey’s head hit the pillow, he was out, not realizing just how exhausted his body had become.

#tales of zestiria #fanfiction

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celestial-leaves · 6 years ago

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MMOTOS III

The sun had long set, leaving the moon free to roam across the celestial vaults, hindered only by the few clouds that drifted by lazily. Sorey breathed gustily and rubbed his hands together, but it did little to warm them. The cold front had been going on for several days, harsh winds, freezing rains, and even the promise of snow. The shepherd shifted closer to the fire and brought his legs in to rest his arms on. The flames crackled before his eyes, bright sparks occasionally flitting out. Across the campfire, his newest squire was curled up under a thick wool blanket covering all but the tip of her head where it rested against her saddle. Sorey sighed again and rubbed at his knees. “I don’t know what to do,” he muttered.

<<Then stop thinking about it and go. To. Sleep.>>

Sorey jumped, hand dropping to his sword, as he looked around wildly before he realized that the grew had come from inside his own chest. He sat down again, blushing self-consciously though there was no one around to see it. “I can’t do that,” he said allowed.

<<Why not?>> The growl came again, though when he concentrated on it, he noticed that it was more of a slurred speech pattern than an actual growl. It reverberated out of his chest and through his head like the rumblings that the earth occasionally made.

“I’ve never been able to,” Sorey admitted, “when there’s something on my mind, I just can’t sleep until I’ve solved it. And… and this is kind of important.”

<<Get down here.>>

“What?”

<<I said, get down here.>>

“Er, how do I do that?” Sorey felt the exasperation that drifted up from his inwards like a sudden wave of scent. The smell of rain-washed dirt, but more clogging then refreshing, it pressed down on his pores and made it difficult to breath. Sorey gasped, reaching up convulsively towards his throat and just like that the pressure was gone, replaced by a soothing warmth.

<<Close your eyes. Concentrate on that area where you store us. It’s like sensing Maovelance but not.>>

Sorey closed his eyes without comment, Edna had sounded vaguely discomfited. The inside of his eyelids was black but swiftly the images of the day’s events flashed across them. The blade. Blood dripping down Mikleo’s arm. Lailah’s fire wheel. The BLADE. And those eyes, blank but so cold.

<<Focus!>>

Sorey shuddered and reached further back sending out his senses towards that loud presence. It was easy enough to find, a large heavy weight sitting deep in his gut. It felt gritty against his sense but not in a bad way, just odd. Sorey opened his eyes and found himself in a cave. Loose dirt brushed past his toes. He looked about, noting with some alarm that he was barefoot and dressed in unfamiliar clothing. His pants had turned into black shorts hanging just past his knees, his cape had flitted off somewhere leaving him in a sleeveless variation of his blue undershirt. The greatest surprise though were the names that swirled up his arms, curving around his wrists in flowing script. He lifted a hand and peered closer as a strand appeared to separate from the rest and curl teasingly through his fingers. The letters grew more familiar the long he starred at them until, abruptly he saw ‘Luzrov Rulay’ dancing over his hand. Sorey watched as the name flitted back to join the rest, merging easily with Fethmus Mioma and Hephsin Yulind. Sorey shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, deciding to figure out the strange tattoos later. He shuffled along, kicking up dirt until he spotted a familiar figure seated on top of a mound of packed dirt.

“Took you long enough,” Edna said once he’d clambered up besides her.

“I, sorry, where are we?” Sorey asked. He looked around again, but the scenario had not changed. “And why am I dressed like this?”

“It’s not your clothing,” Edna replied, “that’s not important though.” Sorey waited but she gave no more clarifications, so he let out a quiet grunt. Edna tore her gaze away from a fascinating speck of dirt, to look at him with a bored gaze. “You said you needed to clear your head, so talk.”

“Er? About the assassin situation? I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Does it matter?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does it matter that your Squire is an assassin? You need all the protection that you can get, you’re rather weak.”

“I’m not that weak!” Sorey protested, “and it’s not that she’s an assassin! It’s just, wouldn’t killing people create Maovelance? Wouldn’t that negate what I’m trying to do?”

Edna hummed but seemed disinclined to answer his questions so Sorey sighed and stared blankly at the wall as well, while words bumbled through his brain and slipped out his mouth unfiltered. “I want Seraphs and Humans to be able to live equally, but wherever we go Seraphs are either being used as tools or weapons and even when we meet a free Seraph, they’re not exactly…you know. Take the Dragon Slayer for example, he clearly hates me, and he only hung around for so long because Lailah asked him to. As the one and only Shepherd, how am I supposed to moved forward? What do I do to fix this?”

“My brother is a pirate captain,” Edna said suddenly. “He regularly kills humans and gets into fights with the Order but he’s not maovelant.”

“Waittasec! Hold up, you have a brother?!” Sorey exclaimed, twisting about to stare at his smaller companion with wide eyes.

“Shut up,” Edna replied succinctly, “and listen. The act of killing isn’t what’s going to cause this world to blow up. For starters, it’s already been blown up, and right now you need all the help you can get. You can’t afford to be picky.”

“So, I’m supposed to support it? Turn a blind eye?”

“If it bothers you that much, just tell her to stop,” Edna said. “And you’re wrong about Grampveid.”

“How am I wrong?” Sorey said, not quite able to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but Edna’s umbrella slamming against his shoulder was his only answer. Sorey ducked away from it yelping, but when he settled again, he found to his pleasant surprise that the heavy feeling in his chest had faded somewhat. His head felt a little less full, and he turned back to Edna. “Thank you, a feel a bit better?” Edna frowned at him, a fierce look despite her age, and without another word jabbed him in the chest. Sorey opened his eyes to the sight of flames flickering and his new Squire sharpening her numerous blades. She looked up abruptly and Sorey twitched guiltily, but a smile flitted across her face and she lifted a knife as she waved cheerfully.

“Good morning Sorey!”

“G’morning Rose,” Sorey said and smiled back hesitantly.

#Dragon Slayer! AU #Who gave me a pen?#Tales of Zestiria #Sorey (ToZ)#Edna (ToZ)#MMOTOS

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