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ghastspidergwen · 3 years

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I love @doctorsiren's dadskall au, and I thought I'd write a little fic about it. basically, the dadskall au is where xisuma and ex (alex)'s dad is doomguy, but some sort of accident/crazy magic/whatever made him and iskall share a body, go check out doctor siren for the whole story, she has great art, too!

disclaimers (you can completely ignore this section if you want): I have played about 15 minutes total of all the Doom games, read none of the books, seen none of the movies, but the ost is great, so this will probably be ooc for doomguy. xisuma and alex are more based on the featherweight au versions, not the real hermitcraft versions. this story is not part of the dadskall au nor any of dr siren's other aus, it's just a break for me to write some fluff. it takes place ~3-4 years after where fw currently is (s7 election era) but is not set in the fw au world. link to the post part of this is based on. ...and I think that's everything, onto the fic!

Xisuma took a deep breath, “I think dad’s alive.”

“You said you saw him die,” Alex, previously known as Evil Xisuma, said, turning to his brother, “They told me he died”

“He wasn’t exactly dead, it’s hard to explain. It’s more like...the horcruxes in Harry Potter. When dad died, I think there was some magic at play that made it so his ‘soul’ transferred into the nearest healthy, person. And I think I found them.”

“Uh-huh, and who might that be?”

“HALLO!” Iskall burst in, “What did you need me for?”

“Iskall? Seriously?”

“He was there that night and I have no reason to believe-”

“You really think Iskall-”

“It’s my best guess, everyone else was injured, and the magic had to choose the nearest healthy person, so it must be Iskall.”

“What must be Iskall?”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Iskall?”

“No, Iskall86,” Xisuma said, sarcastically, “Of course this Iskall, how many Iskalls do we know?”

“I still have no idea what we’re talking about, can -”

“No!” The void brothers turned to him and responded in sync. Xisuma pulled his brother into a side room, “Stay right there, thanks Iskall.”

“What?”

Xisuma exhaled and closed the door behind them, “Phew, OK, I have reason to believe that 13 years ago, Iskall was present the night that dad-y’know-and since everyone else there was either corrupted or injured, as the only uninjured person, dad’s spirit ended up inhabiting his body, but’s been so weak that it was only using Iskall as a means of staying alive, not influencing him or trying to take control of his body at all. Do you get me?”

“A little.”

“And I think I know the spell that will separate them, and give dad his old body back,” They went back into the main room with Iskall, “Should I do it now?”

“Blast ‘im,” Alex backed out of the room, putting a protective wall between him and the magic.

“WHAT?!”

A glowing green ball of energy swirled between Xisuma’s hands, and Iskall backed into the wall, “H-hey Xisuma, what are you doing?”

“This...shouldn’t hurt.”

Iskall held up a hand in a stop gesture, “SHOULDN’T?!”

Xisuma blasted him with the magic. Iskall glowed green, floated into the sir, then split into two people who fell down.

“I...think it...worked,” Xisuma muttered, collapsing to the floor.

Doomguy looked up, and noticed someone lying, unmoving, on the floor. His saving-people instincts kicked in, and he pulled himself over to the person. “C'mon, don’t be dead, don’t be dead,” he said, shaking them.

Someone was shaking Iskall. He sat up and opened his eyes, “Holy heck, it’s Doomguy!”

“You’re alive!” Doomguy said relieved, and pulled Iskall into a hug.

Absolutely starstruck, Iskall sat there, frozen. It’s Doomguy, I love Doom, Doomguy is right here, and he’s hugging me, it’s Doomguy! Iskall’s mind looped.

Pulling out of the hug, Iskall spotted Xisuma crumpled on the floor, “W-wait, I got-gotta check on my friend.”

Doomguy turned around, and spotted his son on the floor.

“Xisuma!” He stood up and stumbled toward him.

“Wait, you know Xisuma?”

“He’s my son. Well, your son, too. Our son.”

“Wha-”

“Short answer, I am you. You are me. We’re the same person.”

Looking at his hands, one thought crossed Iskall’s mind, I’m Doomguy. It was closely followed by “I HAVE A SON?”

“Two sons.”

“TWO SONS? And one of them is dying!” Iskall sprinted across the room and cradled Xisuma’s head, “I don’t know what to do!”

“Health potion?” Doomguy suggested.

“Oh, yeah,” Pulling a potion of healing out of his inventory, Iskall splashed it onto Xisuma. He held his breath and waited to see if it would work.

Xisuma opened his eyes. He sat up.

“Dad!” He jumped up, and buried his face in his dad’s chest plate, giving him a hug the same way he did when he was younger.

“I’m your dad, too,” Iskall said.

“You know?” Xisuma asked, breaking off the hug.

“Yeah, Doomguy told me. So give your poppa a hug,” Iskall uncrossed his arms and gave a very confused Xisuma a hug.

“Oh, OK,” Xisuma awkwardly pat Iskall’s back until he stepped away.

“Is Alex here?” Doomguy asked.

“He should be right outside, he didn’t want to be in the same room as an untested spell.”

“Wait, you didn’t test it? Then why did you cast it on me?” Iskall asked, panicked.

“How many people do we know that have another person living inside them?”

“Wels/Hels, I’m pretty sure Ren did for a while, a pregnant lady,” Iskall ticked off on his fingers.

“Different circumstances. Wels and Hels are one person, like two sides of a coin, Ren-I don’t know what happened with Grimdog or The Red King or whatever, but I definitely don’t want to mess with those, and did you just compare yourself to a pregnant woman?”

“Uhhh...nevermind.”

“You said Alex was just outside?”

“Yeah,” Xisuma pulled the door open, to reveal Alex sitting on a bench outside, drumming his fingers against the seat

“Did it work?”

“Yeah.” Stepping out of the doorway, Xisuma revealed their dad standing behind him.

“Hi, Alex.”

“Dad?”

“It’s me,” Doomguy sat next to his other son.

“Dad!” Alex hugged him, and they pulled Xisuma into the hug after a second. They sat there before the hug was interrupted by another pair of arms joining in.

“Family, together again,” Iskall sighed.

“What’s up with him?” Alex asked, glancing at Iskall.

“I’m part of the family, call me Dadskall.”

“OK...Dadskall, can we have awhile alone with our dad?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. See you later.” Iskall trudged out of the room.

“I haven’t seen you guys in forever! How long was I…”

“15 years.”

“So that would put you guys in your mid-30s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Has anything big happened in the last 15 years?”

Alex pulled off his helmet, “Nothing too bad. I was imprisoned for a bit of it,” he glared at his brother.

Xisuma also removed his helmet, “I said I was sorry, how many times do you want me to apologize?”

“I wasn’t saying it’s your fault, I was just making the point that-”

“I get it! I was an idiot and I didn’t listen to you when you were clearly right.”

“Just like old times,” Doomguy chuckled, he examined his son’s faces, “You look so much older, like real adults. I’m so sorry I missed out on the last 15 years, I would’ve loved to see you grow up.”

“It’s not like you could do anything about it.”

“I know you would have been here if you could.”

“Also how did you guys get those scars?”

“Someone needed to keep slaying the demons after you left,” Alex shrugged.

“I angered some Watchers years ago.”

“You angered some Watchers?” Doomguy asked, standing up.

“I just realized someone was right, but it was too late to save them.”

“Darn right, I was.” Alex and Xisuma also stood up.

“I...forgot how tall you were,” Doomguy said looking, at up at Alex, who was only a few inches taller.

“Oh, yeah. Xisuma was jealous he never got this tall.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Sure,” Alex smirked.

“So, anything else new?” Their dad intervened.

“Daisy’s still alive.”

“Should’ve guessed,” he chuckled.

“Oh! You’re a grandpa!”

“What?!”

“Yeah! I adopted a guy named xB. I’ll call him over, so you can meet!”

<Xisuma> hey xb, can you come on down to my base, I’ve got something to show you

<xBcrafted> ?

<xBcrafted> yeah, be there shortly

“How did you meet this xB?”

“I was doing some exploring between seasons, looking for a good seed, when I found a small single player world. xB was alone in there. Poor kid was only 13, didn’t know where his parents were, said he had been handling himself for the last 2 or 3 years, so I took him back to Hermitcraft with me. He’s a great kid, you’ll love him.”

“Xisuma has practically adopted the entire server.”

“Server? You’re an admin?”

“We both are. I’m main admin of Hermitcraft, Alex is the backup admin.”

“I’m so sorry I missed out on all of this stuff. I really wish I could have been there for you two.”

Something thumped into the outside of the building they were in, and the door opened, “Freakin’ rockets, stupid friggin’ elytra,” xB mumbled. “Oh, hey Uncle Alex, hey, dad.”

Doomguy gasped, “I love him already!”

“Wha-”

“xB, this is our dad, Doomguy.”

“Wait, I thought he was dead.”

“Wonky magic stuff.”

“OK then. I’m xBcrafted,” xB said, offering his hand for a handshake.

Doomguy scooped him up in a hug, “Hello, xB, you can call me Grandpa Flynn, or just Grandpa, or just Flynn, I don’t care. I have a grandson!”

“Nice-to-meet-you,” xB gasped.

“Dad, I don’t think he can breath.”

“Oh, right,” Flynn released his grandson, “sorry, got a little overexcited.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Glad to be back.”

“Do you want to go meet the rest of the server? There’s just under 30 of us, total.”

“Oh, you’ll love all of them. There’s me, of course, but Hypno and Jevin and Wels and False are all set up near me, Stress and Gem are also pretty close, and Doc and Ren are just past them, and…” xB rambled as the other three grabbed their helmets.

“You ready?” Alex asked, pushing open the door.

“Let’s go, I want to meet the rest of your family.”

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfic #doctorsiren #dadskall au #gsg writes

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pengosolvent · 6 years

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really frightened that i am lacking something essential and will never be able to be a skilled or creative artist no matter how hard i try. equally frightened that i have sabotaged my own progress in various ways and have wasted years backsliding and will never “get back” any skill i did previously exhibit. do you have any suggestions for how to continue to produce art and improve even when constantly suffocated by fear

anon this is a common but unfortunate occurrencei feel this a lot too this is a very long reply because i think about this kinda stuff often, so there’s a readmore

i’ve got some advice for you, though i’m sure you’ve probably already heard some if not all of this before, so i don’t mean to talk to you like this is new magic info, but just reiterating stuff that i try to keep in mind that might work for you tooalso i want to point out that i’m not a professional remotely, so the things i’m stating are completely from my own personal experiences ….. and also i struggle with perfectionism and other things so while i give this advice i also still have trouble with the problems noted and also i use a lot of examples and comparisons when i talk because its easier for me to understand things that way

anyway:

1- you are the person who sees your art the mostthis is a very obvious thing, to state but it ties directly into a lot of what you’ve statedyou feel you lack something essential, you feel you’ve backslid and lost previous skills, and youre afraidbut think about the other art you seeyou ONLY see the end result of what everyone posts… or even if people do post in-progress pictures or speedpaints, you’re not really seeing the “scope” of it with in-progress pictures, you don’t know how much changed or how much was erased how much time was spent how much etc with speedpaints, you see all the progress but its sped up and it’s easy to feel like all of that was done faster than it really was even if youre aware its sped up

and even if you watched a realtime video of someone drawing… theres thousands of hours outside of that video of this person doodling, and even THINKING about their art that you havent seen it makes other peoples art feel a lot more.. confident? secure?

for your own art however, you are fully aware of the struggle of every line because you’re the one doing it and thinking about itit might make you feel like you’re trying so hard when everyone else has just Got it

2- experiencing art as a consumer vs a creator is a different feelingthis is directly tied to the previous idea but it’s easy to feel like you lack something essential when, instead of consuming the art, you are the one producing it

here’s an example: i love horror contentnot all of it of course, but i love horror that really makes me think and makes me see a characters motivations and really digs in deep psychologically and sticks with you even after you’re done experiencing the media

however it is very very hard for me to make anything that is strictly horror. for a long time i thought i was just bad at it, but i realized later that i’m not missing something that helps to write/draw horror … i just experience horror different based on if i’m consuming it vs making it part of the horror appeal to me is the MYSTERYif i am writing/drawing horror, there is NO mystery! i know everything there is to know about the situation i am making! i know all the character’s motivations, i know everything there is to know about every tiny detail and even if i am writing something where i don’t know what happens so it’s a purposeful mystery (such as in this comic where i don’t know what happens if you take off the tinier beak) it sometimes feels less Cool Mystery for me and more like “oh no i don’t know this thing, oh god, i’m a bad writer”i’ve gotten over that little by little, but it’s still hard to shake that i’m “missing” something with work that ISN’T mine its easy to put meaning that may not have been totally intended and THINK that the person meant it, and thus feel like that thing is more thought-out than it actually is

you might be experiencing something similar with art… where it feels like when you see OTHER art, you feel happy or like theres a meaning there etc but with your own art, you can’t capture that same feeling… it could literally be because you know what youre going for and what youre doing because youre the one doing it

3a- old art feels better sometimes because it is more removed from youyou know better than i do in this regard if this is true to you, because sometimes people can genuinely get rusty and lose but for the most part older art tends to feel better due to the fact it is becoming more and more removed from your current state and mindsetold art starts to slowly get treated the way you read Other people’s art because you’re not staring at it constantly and you start to forget the process and effort behind the old art

sometimes you can’t see well if your new art is “better” or not because it is too current on your mind and you know how hard it is to make and if it does or doesnt match what you were going for or etc etcmeanwhile your old art starts to be viewed more objectively because you dont remember every difficult line with it, and you can see it as a bit better because you’re not bogged by the negativity

3b- even if you fell off, you can regain the skill

even if you DID get worse over time… you did it once before and you can do it againyou can learn from your old works, but also try to learn from your old mentality a lot of my old stuff was more expressive and emotivei could learn to do that again mechanically, imitating my old stuff, but a big part of why my art was that way was because my mentality was different back then i was louder, more open, etc etcthink about what’s changed within you to see reasons for things changed in your art

4a- fear only works if you’re afraid of being badit is important to be able to see ways you can improve… but it’s also important not to fear that you have areas that CAN improveif you view “making something bad” as a punishment/negative outcome your fear directs itself through all your art

the easiest point fear can attack is starting to draw at allbefore you start drawing its very easy for your mind to go “why do this? why try if it’s just going to be stressful” and all through out the process that ramps up like “see it’s just stressful why do it”

your fear seemingly offers you something to gain if you don’t even try: avoiding the pain of art altogether

but what if you were unphased by that pain? if you don’t care about making something bad, that fear can’t manifest

some artists start their day by drawing the shittiest thing they can to shake off rust and have fun doing it … drawing a cartoon character from memory, drawing and overly rendered shitpost etc now i’m not saying not to care about your quality and take a ton of shortcuts and blablait’s still good to want to learn and improve it’s just that you have to start rearranging your perspective on your steps to achieve that

4b- no-stakes neutral is no problemhow do you get rid of that fear? how do you stop feeling being bad is.. bad?

try to view arts range as neutral to positive (as opposed to negative to postive) because at it’s base that’s exactly what art is what i mean by that is…let’s say you’re trying to draw a cat (and it’s not a commission or anything). your first attempt does not look anything like a cat this is not a “bad” thing though it may feel that way your failed attempt at a cat has not stabbed you or taken money or food from you or in any way truly inconvenienced you

the base idea is that you drew something and it wasn’t what you wanted this is completely neutral.. it’s like going to look for a new shirt. if you see shirts you don’t care for, you move past them until you get to the shirt you want.your “bad art” is just that. a bunch of shirts you don’t want til you find the one you’re looking for… you don’t have to pay anything for those “bad” attemptssure they take a bit of time and if you don’t have a lot of energy you might feel bad to use it on a drawing that you don’t enjoy and it can be frustrating if you keep trying to no avail, but all in all it’s not a stark negative

art isn’t a straight pathit’s winding, it’s really confusing , and it can be tiringbut if you go down a path that’s a dead end, you just try another pathdon’t fear reaching dead ends, there are always more paths

chuck jones (an iconic animator) said he had to draw multiple drafts to get expressions just right failure is in the eye of the beholder… he felt the first drafts for those expressions did not fit what he wanted, but he didn’t fear failure because of that even if the art was not by his standards, he continued until he got the one he felt was appropriate

it takes patience to get to where you wantif you stay patient you will eventually arrive there

5- drawing and thinking go hand in handart is a blend of being able to draw and being able to problem solve through what you already knowwhen i get stressed with art it’s usually because i don’t know what the hell i’m doing with no way to check myself if i’m close to what i want or not with me it tends to happen with backgrounds or animalsthis is why ppl typically suggest learning to draw cubes, cylinders and spheres from any angle because then you can transfer that base knowledge into other objectslike, cubes can be used to draw rooms, boxes, screens, fences, etccylinders can be pipes, water bottles, arms and legs, etc

transfering base knowledge is essential in art and understanding that you can do that, even if only as a base, helps a lotwith learning how to draw a mouse, you have a starting point for learning how to draw a rat (comparing the headshapes, sizes, ears, etc)… then you can use these two as a base point for drawing a squirrel, then a rabbit etc

another example could be maybe you know how to draw claws but not fangs… you can interchange the shape of a curved claw for a curved fang easily

starting with something you know and figuring out how to transfer the knowledge is very important and can help lessen that stress because instead of not even knowing where to start, you can problem solve to figure out what you already know under different termsits just all about knowing what connections you can try and learn, and working “smart”

on that vein… 6- perfecting things doesn’t make perfectit’s very tempting to make every tiny detail as good as you possibly can… but it’s very daunting and time consumingyou should try to work “smart” here too and now what i mean by that is … say i’m making a comic. i can make the comic to the absolute best of my current ability and take forever and become extremely drained Or… i could decide to try but still set a deadline for myself, and not worry TOO much about the smaller details why is the second one better? because i will get it done. if i try very very hard my ABSOLUTE best on a comic, making sure every single line is perfect, in a few months that comic will still be outdated. it will still get old and the amount i learned from it is limitedif i give myself some leeway (still trying of course, still learning and challenging myself) and set a deadline, i learn to be disciplined in my comics, i get a comic finished, AND i learn more because i am finishing more work in general

this is a really helpful video that explains this point more in depth

this isn’t to say you need to take the easiest routes for art that are availableit’s more like… back to the comic example, let’s say it’s like making a cake i can be a huge perfectionist about my cake, carving everything exact and putting every drop of frosting as exact as i can… but i’m still not a “master” at this i’m still learning the next time i make a cake i’m going to have to do the same situation … take forever to try to make the perfect cake

if i make a cake and still try, but accept when i don’t know how to get the exact result, my first cake is going to be a bit of a mess, but the next cake i make, i’ll be a little closer and in the time it takes Perfectionist Me to make 2 cakes, i might have already made 10 and i’ve sped up the process now and improved because i’ve learned a lot with those 10 cakes

there’s probably more that can be said about art, but i’m hesitant to try to dictate too much about how you experience your art and go about it i hope that this can help you at least a bit though

#nonbonart post

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benitezalise94 · 4 years

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Reiki Therapy Auckland Marvelous Useful Ideas

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Reiki Healing Kurs

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Reiki Symbol Master

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#Reiki Therapy Auckland Marvelous Useful Ideas #Reiki Crystal Healing Certification

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sloblesbian · 6 years

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been doing a new years resolution & reflection post every year since 2014 so im gonna continue that trend.

personally this was a really great year for me. it’s very weird. things are objectively bad. if you think too much about the future things start to fall apart. there isn’t anything to rely on, outside of my own ability, and that’s limited in what i can do without support. but. it’s not hopeless. i dream a lot of finally graduating and getting a job that will keep me more than just barely afloat, and of what that could mean for me... i won’t graduate for at least 2 year (i need 56 more credits-- i think after 2 years i’ll have 2 more classes to get in, unless i manage either some summer courses or 2 semesters of 5 classes, both of which are unlikely) and even then i know finding a job is hard. theoretically i could start now but i find it difficult to work 30 hours a week and go to school. i’m also afraid that i might make less at an entry level job than at my current job... but maybe this summer i will apply at some bookstores & libraries.

also... i really love my girlfriend. she’s coming to stay with me for 2 weeks in march and i am so excited. it’s been a good year for us. every day i talk to her and she really understands and like, gets me you know? i am amazed and i fall in love some more.

also i accomplished a ton in 2017. maybe not the things i set out to (i finished 1 sock that i started last november, lol, and the only short stories i read were a few online and for school) but i transferred to RIC. i only took 2 classes because i couldnt register till june but i got As in both of them and my gpa is a 4.0 which has never happened in my LIFE. i’m excited about the classes i’m starting this month, and after i finish spanish & anthropology i should only have english classes from then on out. i wouldn’t say i love my current job but it’s miles better than working in retail. it’s less stressful and while i’m generally working less hours i am making a little bit more. it feels necessary & helpful as opposed to being in an endless capitalism machine that only exists to grind me down for unreasonable standards.

but i did read 100 books which was real touch & go for a while.. the first couple months of 2017 i barely read & felt like i had lost my ability to plow thru a ton of books, then the middle of the year i caught up & jumped ahead... fell behind, etc. i finished my last book on the 28th though. i read a lot of comics; my page count for this year is way down, but it doesn’t matter. that’s still damn impressive.

and for things i didn’t plan at all but still accomplished: i wrote 4 pieces of fiction this year. i mean. they’re all fanfiction, which isn’t really something i even read never mind write, which i think is maybe??? sort of even more impressive? i’m going to try and write some original stuff in the coming year but like. right after nanowrimo, my friends and i, who were previously in the fictional coalition of writers who don’t write, uh, all started writing. which is great. but i mean. i started writing in february? march? i wrote a 10k word fic, and then a short follow up, a short pjo thing, and i wrote another 6000 words this month but it’s not on ao3 cause it’s like... a complementary piece to something that isn’t finished yet, lol. overall about 20k words which isn’t too much in the long run but i like that i wrote 4 completed pieces. it’s nice because i had sort of let myself give up on writing because... i mostly don’t enjoy it. i don’t like scrounging for ideas. but i do like planning things out enough, outlining what i want to happen, and then writing the whole thing. it’s like writing a list and then accomplishing it which... as u know, i love. as far as i can tell uhh most people don’t need to do this. i really have to know like. the end trajectory of a piece before i start writing. i don’t have to know every detail but if i am confused to where it’s going i can’t write it. i’m not great at ideas but i am good at making things happen. it feels nice to accomplish something creative, when i basically haven’t since i uhhh dropped out of art school.

also, i wrote 47 reviews, which, damn! i (read: my bff & roommate mags) put up a new website, even if it is going to come down this month (i think. i wanna transfer everything first) and i wrote a review nearly every week and a lot of them were good. like. that’s a lot of writing, between fiction & what have u, what category do my dumb reviews fall under.

(FOOD/DIET warning i dont wanna put it in the tags of the post just skip this paragraph) oh also i cut dairy & eggs (& also gelatin & honey, i guess) out of my diet, & i feel very very good about it (also i think i lost something like 20 lbs-- i don’t weigh myself but uhhh thats good thats very good). when i stopped eating meat in 2010 i lived with my mom & my intention was to one day go vegan but like... i didn’t want to put the strain on her & also i sometimes struggle with food things. but it’s gone really well. it’s nice. feel good. love to cook. very good at it.

so like...... a really good year for me. here’s what i want out of 2018

i’m cutting my reading goal down specifically because i don’t think it’s something that can grow exponentially and i think the main reason i was able to accomplish it was because i didn’t have too much school this year. when i started setting goals for myself in 2012 my original goal was 50 books; that’s what we’re going back to.

every year (except 2016 when i was realistic) i told myself i would read more short stories & knit more. i’m hoping that having less to read (which i prioritize over all other hobbies) will give me more time. also i have a desk & a chair set up which... idk... helps? i put some knitting stuff there & grafted the toe of a sock the other day, so i hope it does, at least. i read a short story yesterday so i hope that’s a portent for 2018. i want to finish the time travelers almanac at least. i have a lot of collections and i do enjoy them. it’s just easier to get through novels than anything else.

if u follow my twitter you have probably heard me say this but: 2018 is the year of the video game for me. im, uh, terrible at games- im fairly certain i have dyspraxia, at least mildly (im wildly, wildly uncoordinated)- but for a while i was playing a few because i had done it enough that i had gotten better..... well, this year i played persona 5, which i really loved like. more than any video game in a long time. i know a lot of people were disappointed with aspects of it (rightly so) but i had never played another persona game so i think that probably shaped my opinion some, and also, i think p5 dealt with issues that i really love to see in fiction & generally don’t, even if it ultimately dropped the ball. anyway. it kind of revitalized my interest, and i want to play more. i have p4 that i want to get through. i never finished usum. i have a bunch of games on steam & mags let me sign into their steam library too & they have about 400 games (thats not an exaggeration). i wanna replay me2&3 for sid. i want to practice so i can play games that are more difficult than i usually do. (mass effect being the sole fps i can play, usually i can only play very linear rpgs (think pokemon & dragon age) and uhhh puzzle games, god i love puzzle games)

so, more concretely:

read 50 books

try to read more short stories

knit more

play video games

do well in school

that sounds good. happy new year.

#year in review #diary tag #long post

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pengiesama · 7 years

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A Reasonable Amount of Trouble (Fic, Sorey/Mikleo, Detective AU, Chapter 1/?)

Title: A Reasonable Amount of Trouble, Chapter 1/? Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo Summary: Sorey is an experienced member of the supernatural detective division, the Shepherds, but is a fresh face to the city squad when an unexpected transfer lands him in Lastonbell. Things tend to get complicated when you realize that hot hookup from the bar last night is now your new partner on the force. (Detective AU)

Link: AO3

This was a commission from @shamingcows, who requested fic from her fantastic Detective AU!

Check out my commission info here.

Read on Tumblr!

Lastonbell wasn’t a bad assignment.

A major metro center, it was a city known for the arts, theater, and music – and all the accompanying drama that came with it. A writer, wretched with rejection letters, going hellion in the streets; a seraph, strung out on the torrid emotions of starving artists, going missing and turning up a week later rampaging through the commercial district wearing scales. Organized crime rings, trafficking drugs and bodies both, occasionally facing off against each other in the streets.

Sure, it didn’t have the glitz and glamour of Pendrago. But Sorey had gotten too comfortable with the detective beat in Ladylake, and welcomed the change of scenery – but mostly he welcomed the change in local attractions and historical points of interest. When he wasn’t being wined and dined (more like boozed and burgered) by his local friends as part of his farewell festivities, he was scrolling through Lastonbell food and travel blogs and devouring every book about the city’s lengthy history he could get his hands on. These research efforts had a predictable effect on Sorey’s packing efforts, and on the eve of his big move, he had to sheepishly call in a favor to Rose to enlist her help in getting the remainder of his apartment into boxes.

(“I helped you and Alisha move into your place,” Sorey pointed out in response to Rose’s endless griping, over the sounds of packing tape and clattering plates.

“I bought you pizza and beer!” Rose countered. “That debt was paid in full! Man, how many books do you have!? You owe me a night bar-crawling in Lastonbell for this. While I wear a crown. And you’re carrying me on one of those fancy back carriage thingies.”

“Palanquin,” Sorey informed her.

“Gesundheit,” Rose blessed him.)

Now that he was in Lastonbell, there was the matter of getting his apartment out of the boxes. Sorey flopped down heavily on one of the few open spots on his couch, and brought out his phone. He’d had a long day, and maybe it was time for him to make use of his extensive city research to check out some of the local bars.

He scrolled through some of the blog posts he had bookmarked, and landed on a name – The Katz Pajamas. It looked way…louder than the bars he tended to frequent. And definitely had a certain vibe to it. A certain vibe that Sorey, stressed and lonely in this big new city, could maybe appreciate tonight.

Sorey didn’t usually go for casual encounters, much less one-night stands. Even if someone checked all his boxes for physical attraction, he just generally wasn’t interested in anonymous sex with someone he barely knew. There was also the matter of common ground – normal “pickup talk” conversation bored Sorey to tears, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that most people (or even some people, or a few people) would be interested in what archaeology journals he was reading, or wanted to rant with him about that badly-researched documentary he caught on Netflix the night before.

But there was always an exception to be had, wasn’t there? Especially as a stranger in a strange land.

Which sums up how Sorey wound up with his cock buried hilt-deep inside a guy he picked up at the bar.

His name was Mikleo, and he was a regular at the club, had great taste in books, and was absolutely stunning. He was tall; almost a head taller than Sorey, who was no slouch himself. He had a slim build; light enough for Sorey to pick up and throw onto his bed with ease, with slender wrists just the right size for Sorey’s hands to wrap around. He had legs for days; they were previously showcased in a pair of tight jeans, and were currently wrapped around Sorey’s waist. His eyes were a deep and fascinating violet, his hair was long and wavy white, frosted with pale aquamarine streaks, and – Sorey noted, as he slid a hand through it, prompting Mikleo to damn near purr at the feeling – was just about the softest thing he’d ever felt. Sorey had never gotten with a seraph before, and with how this encounter was going, he wondered why the hell that was.

The second he stepped into the club and had his eyes adjust to the low light, he’d spotted Mikleo at the bar, chatting with the bartender like an old friend. Dumbstruck with how gorgeous he looked in the colored lights and running on fumes and exhausted idiot courage after his long day of moving, Sorey slid up to him in a neighboring seat, and struck up a conversation. About five minutes in, Mikleo was laughing at Sorey’s dumb pickup lines in Ancient Avarost and buying him a drink to welcome him to the city, and Sorey realized that this was the best decision he’d made all day. About ten minutes in, as they crowed together about shitty movie adaptations of the restoration period, Sorey realized this was the best decision he’d made all week. About an hour in, as they ground on each other in the back of a taxi making its way back to Sorey’s place, Sorey realized that he really should have tried harder to unpack, and was about to hook up with a beautiful stranger amidst a maze of cardboard boxes. For his part, Mikleo almost seemed charmed by it all – or at least was too polite to do more than laugh as Sorey scooped him up and carried him bravely through the debris and into his bedroom to ravish him.

Sorey hadn’t really gotten much action since his last relationship about six months back, but managed to last longer than he thought he would with such a mind-blowingly sexy partner. From the look on Mikleo’s face as Sorey carefully pulled out of him, he’d given Mikleo a great ride as well – which was good, as Sorey wanted to at least make Mikleo’s efforts in putting up with his cardboard kingdom worthwhile. Sorey removed his condom and wrapped it in a tissue, and leaned in to kiss Mikleo deeply before he got up to clean up in the bathroom. The smile Mikleo gave to him in return just about killed his desire to leave the bed. Sorey leaned back in for another kiss.

Then another.

In the end, Sorey wound up climbing Mikleo like a tree one more time before they collapsed into unconsciousness. The next morning, he wished he had more to offer his houseguest hottie than coffee and a muffin from the chain across the street, but Mikleo took the gift with the same good grace that he put up with Sorey’s bad jokes last night. Sorey really, really wanted to ask him to hang around while he went off to check in at his new station, but couldn’t justify asking him to; not with his apartment…the way it was. Mikleo bid him good luck and farewell, sweeping that silky hair of his over one shoulder as he bent down for a last, long kiss. Belatedly, as he creaked his way out of the taxi and into the station, his whole body aching from moving strain and from screwing Mikleo like his life depended on it, he realized that he hadn’t asked for Mikleo’s number. Sorey’s heart twisted a bit with disappointment.

It was the appeal of one-night stands, he supposed. You meet a gorgeous, brilliant guy, hump his brains out, and then never see him again. No strings. No expectations. Nothing but fun, pleasure, and the lingering memory of Mikleo’s smile burning in his brain like embers.

Sorey hung around the station for a little while, getting his new hire paperwork and greetings out of the way – he had been hoping to meet his new partner, but had been told he was taking a long weekend and would probably be next in the coming week. Sorey supposed it was a blessing in disguise. He was still more than a little cranky from exhaustion, more than a little homesick for Ladylake, and more than a little hung up on a hookup that he had no right to be hung up on. He probably wasn’t in much of a state to be making good impressions on coworkers.

As he headed out for the day, his shoulder devil whispered to him to go back to The Katz Pajamas. Great plan, that – nurse drinks for a few hours, lurk like a creep, and skulk off into the night when Mikleo inevitably didn’t show. His shoulder angel told him to go to the grocery store, pick up some real food, and spend the night and the rest of the weekend unpacking. Sorey hung his head, listened to his shoulder angel’s admonitions, and went to pick up some kitchen supplies.

Well, the joke was on his shoulder angel, because he ran into Mikleo again at the store.

Sorey fell too hard, too fast in his relationships. Thus, he was so bad at one-night stands. So horribly bad. He saw this character flaw of his and tried to keep himself under control, but oh, his heart was singing as he saw Mikleo blinking at him across the freezer section. He looked just as beautiful under the florescent grocery store lights, dressed in a comfy oversized sweater over a button-up, as he did in the neon club dressed in skintight pants and a black choker.

What, exactly, was hookup etiquette in a situation such as this? Was it jogging over to where Mikleo was looking at ice cream bars, striking up a conversation with him, and after another half-hour of wonderful conversation, inviting him back to his cardboard kingdom? Was it popping a boner in the middle of the store like a teenager when Mikleo smirked at him and picked up a 24-pack of condoms from the shelf, and tossed it into his basket next to the ice cream?

This, in fact, was probably not hookup etiquette in any sense of the word. But it netted Sorey another night with Mikleo.

And then a whole day with him, lounging in bed, eating Mikleo’s ice cream bars as they watched documentaries together, idly discussing and debating, Sorey’s head in Mikleo’s lap, trying not to purr as Mikleo pet his hair.

They didn’t leave bed that whole weekend, and Sorey got zero unpacking done, and kind of felt like his dick was going to fall off from using it to nail Mikleo in every position he could. But by god, Sorey didn’t regret a single moment of any of it. As he and Mikleo finally said their farewells to each other early Monday morning, Sorey felt like he was walking on air. Mikleo still had to get back to his place, change, and head off to work, all with Sorey’s hickies marking up his neck, but Sorey now had his number tucked safely into his phone, and a sly little suggestion from Mikleo that they could meet up again sometime if Sorey ever got bored. Sorey dreamily stared at his contact in his phone as the subway rumbled toward the station, his thoughts full of the books he wanted to loan to him, the museums he wanted to visit with him, the things he wanted to keep doing to that firm, tight little ass of his.

The whole weekend combined made it really awkward when the station chief introduced Sorey to his partner on the Shepherd detective force, the seraph specialist Mikleo.

So, he had had a one-night stand, or rather a one-weekend ice cream-and-debauchery fest, with his now-coworker. Sorey knew that dating at work was bad news, and constantly had to overhear gossip on the latest drama about office hookups in the break room at his old station in Ladylake. He’d thought he was above it all, but alas – karma was a bitch, and it was paying him back by banishing him to the realm of sexual limbo. What had seemed like a sure thing, a great way to start off his life in a new city, now seemed too awkward to even consider as they rolled out in a squad car to investigate their first case.

Sorey couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Listen. I am so sorry I didn’t mention where I was going to be working, it’s just, some people get on edge when I say I’m on the force, so I didn’t really want to--”

“It’s fine,” Mikleo said, shortly. “Just – don’t worry about it.”

Sorey managed to stay silent for a few minutes. He did not manage to not worry about it.

“It’s just, we’re going to be working together now, and I had such a great time, I really did, and I don’t want to make things awkward between us--”

“We’re here,” Mikleo informed him. He threw the car into park and unbuckled himself, trying and failing not to look at the wretched look on Sorey’s face. “…listen. I had a great time too, and I don’t blame you for anything. But let’s just focus on the case for now, okay?”

“Yeah…yeah,” Sorey agreed.

The case itself was a pretty standard one. There had been a rash of hellionizations in the area, all producing a certain kind of hellion – goblins, who had an appetite for theft and property vandalism, and also illegal street racing. As was covered in basic Shepherd training, certain types of malevolence tended to create specific breeds of hellion. Goblin hellions grew from turbulent greed and raw gluttony, and the number of cases plus the profile of the area the cases were centered in pointed toward drug-related activity. Lastonbell was a big city, and big cities had drug trafficking problems. And drug trafficking problems led to goblin street races.

“We’ve been making some arrests in the area recently,” Mikleo explained. “All straightforward purify-and-process. Some have had intel on mob activity in the area, but nothing our undercover informants haven’t already gotten us. We’re closing in on the distributors who are likely operating in the area, but we’ll have to monitor to make sure more don’t move in when we take down the current big dogs.”

Nothing Sorey hadn’t already seen in Ladylake. He knew the ins and outs of Ladylake’s streets and back alleys better though, and that made it way easier to break up these goblin races when they went down. He also hadn’t fucked his investigative partner in Ladylake. Lots of new things to consider in his new home.

A commotion interrupted that line of thought – the telltale hooting, hollering, clattering wheels, and cannonball fire of a goblin street race. At the sight of the squad car, they abruptly changed routes down an alleyway. Mikleo smirked and jumped out of the car.

“Right on time,” he said. “Hope you’re up for a chase.”

“You’re on,” Sorey replied, giving him a cheeky little grin.

Mikleo took off like a shot, his long legs and knowledge of the area giving him a solid lead on Sorey. Sorey felt his heart flutter, and not just because of the thrill of the chase. He was so, so bad at hookups.

Well, the good news was that they caught the speed demons, and the purification process went smoothly. No surprises there – a bunch of petty street punks were no match for Sorey’s knack for purification; the silver flames leaping from his blade and streaking across the ground to burn the taint from their flesh, mind, and souls. He’d been informed his partner was the sharpest shot in the precinct, and he’d lived up to the reputation already; shooting out a wheel axel from one racer, sending him careening into another, setting off a panic among the riders that allowed Sorey to commandeer one of the perps’ carts and ride it, flaming sword held high, rattling and clattering through the streets, his own mighty chariot of justice.

It got results. A crew of beat cops was helping them load the purified perps into a transport car, and a tow truck was on its way to pick up the wrecked carts. That being said, it was clear Mikleo was furious with him about the whole chariot of justice thing, and he wouldn’t even look at Sorey as he read off his report over the radio.

“A half dozen gobblecarters in the slammer in one shot,” one of the beat cops said, admiring. He offered a paw to Sorey to shake. “Not bad for a rookie! Put ‘er there, champ.”

“Hey, I graduated academy five years ago. You’re looking at a seasoned pro, here,” Sorey said. However, he knelt to accept the handshake. “This isn’t even my biggest haul.”

“You tryin’ to impress me or your boyfriend there?” laughed the cop. Mikleo continued to ignore them both. “Don’t look like he’s swayed. Maybe bring in some werewolf pelts and he’ll let you take him out on the town.”

Sorey rumpled the cop’s beret until his paws came up to swipe at him.

“’ey! Knock that off or I’ll report you to HR. Don’t think you special ops bozos get the privilege to touch this fine headgear.”

Leaving the beat cops to coordinate cleanup and transport, Mikleo and Sorey began to make their way back to where they parked the car. Sorey scratched his neck, wincing at Mikleo’s silent treatment.

“…I’ll take care of the paperwork?” Sorey offered.

“I’m sure Captain Strelka will be ecstatic to read it,” Mikleo said dryly. “‘Dear Captain, today I nearly made my partner shoot me by bowling into his line of fire, riding atop essential evidence, streaking through the streets like a flaming comet.’”

“You’re a flaming comet,” retorted Sorey. Mikleo was confused into silence, mouth twisting into a pout, one eyebrow arching. It would be a problem if his partner was this cute, and this easy to rile up. It would be a big problem.

They slid into the squad car, and Sorey yawned and stretched, priding himself on his efforts to not flop one arm around Mikleo’s shoulders.

“But it’s not a bad haul for my first day, you’ve got to admit,” Sorey said. “Can I drive?”

“Not a chance,” Mikleo said, turning on the engine without missing a beat.

Sorey’s eyes were bright with exhilaration. “I think, as my senior, you’ve gotta take it upon yourself to familiarize me with the city. I need to get the lay of the land, you know? Why don’t we go out to the belltower tonight; I’ve always wanted to see it in person.”

Mikleo scoffed. “The belltower? Sure, if you want people to think you’re a tourist.”

“Well,” Sorey drawled. “Would a Lastonbell native instead prefer to be taken out to the exhibition on Avarost-era sculpture at the Historical Art Center?”

“No, a native would more prefer to hit the bar district and then heckle the pretentious performance artists in the college town. But I on the other hand have been meaning to see that exhibit anyway.” Mikleo got them on the road to the station. “As long as it’s not too late when you’re finished with your paperwork back at the station, you can tag along, I guess. And if you can pass a city map test.”

Sorey pumped his fist. Lucky for him, he’d always been good at geography.

#sormik #sorey/mikleo #suremiku #soymilk #soremiku #tales of zestiria #i guess this is my personal tales of zestiria tag now #a tenderly crafted fanfiction #writing commissions #commissions

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