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Sora/Kilik x2
Air Gear fanfiction post~ Going to post it on AG comm, wish me luck ;)
Title: After
Author: Sessho
Rating: G?
Pairing: Sora/Kilik if you squint (I do)
Warnings: Angst
Words: ~400
A/N: betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fiendie - thanks; dedicated to ms_rebellious <3
After. She asked him what he was going to do after. What after? For him there was no ‘after’. There was the past. There were memories. There was Sora.
There wasn’t any ‘after’.
He didn’t need anything like that, he didn’t want it. Since that time he’s been tired. Completely burnt out. Or rather – he would be if not for that tiny bitter flicker of flame – passion, desire to put everything to an end.
It was burning him alive.
It was keeping him alive.
Frankly, being ‘alive’ had no significance for him. Fulfilling his goal – yes. Wiping out his past mistakes. His foolish, naïve errors. The grave one.
He had been a fool then. He was a fool now.
He could acknowledge that he had been. He did.
He would never allow himself to notice that he still was. It wouldn’t change anything. It would only burden him, stir doubts. He couldn’t afford any hesitation. Not because it would most probably kill him. Because it wouldn’t help him kill Sora.
He had to, he wanted to.
He breathed. He ate. He slept. He trained and he trained some more. Everything with that one thing in mind.
He didn’t know when it had started to define him. He didn’t want to know either.
When his aim is reached (not ‘if’ - never ‘if’) he will lose that thing. He will dispose of it himself – with his very own hands. He won’t regret.
There won’t be anymore what used to define him nor will be any need for a replacement.
He won’t bother. He won’t make an effort to shape himself anew. He won’t try to define his existence again.
There was no ‘after’ in his thoughts. No need for it.
‘After’ didn’t exist.
You can’t fly with just one wing. Especially when it only had been carved on your back right from the start.
Title: Foolish
Author: Sessho
Rating: G?
Pairing: Sora/Kilik if you squint (I do)
Warnings: More angst
Words: ~600
A/N: betaed byfiendie - thanks; dedicated to ms_rebellious <3 Your fault that I love Kilik ;)
Foolish idea, foolish dreams, foolish hopes. Once they had been more than that. Now they were reduced to that single adjective – simple and cruel in its simplicity. All they had already built and all they were striving to build were shattered. Like the glass that he drove Sora into. Like Sora’s legs.
Like the glasses – he still remembered getting them from Sora on his first birthday outside – on the day he himself chose but not without the other’s earlier insisting. Big glasses with round pink lenses. ‘So ya won’t look so stiff. ‘nd it will match your hair nicely too’. He was just about to puff from indignation and tell Sora to shove it when he added off-handedly – with that trademark grin of his - ‘So your world will be brighter ‘nd stuff’
His anger and outrage shrank immediately and he settled for roughly plucking the item from the other’s hand and giving him cold shrug for the rest of the day.
He stepped on them and crushed with his heel the very day he learned about Sora’s plans.
He was the only one who was trying to create anything. They all knew it, had known it right from the start, but didn’t bother to enlighten him. They all lied to him, betrayed him.
Beautiful, strong, prideful Rika who saw so much and did nothing. Ine who had her eyes set on Spitfire and him only, who proclaimed herself ‘neutral’ after all of this. Spitfire with his easy-going attitude. Dontores who was the weakest from all of them. Falko who treated everything with the same indifference – always concerned only about expanding his bloody road. Black Burn who was not any better than the rest.
His sister – the person who shared his face and looks. His dear sister who apparently didn’t share his thoughts and plans. Who didn’t mind stepping on his feelings and leaving him, betraying him even before everyone else.
None of them hesitated. None of them warned him.
And he was stupid for having trusted them, he was stupid for having believed in Sora. He was stupid.
And too naïve and gullible and just asking to be made a fool of.
All those things that he held dear – most of them were taken away from him. He himself took care of the rest.
All those feelings that he harboured – once stepped on he rendered of no use – tainted – and he disposed of them as well.
He changed ATs for a motorcycle – big, heavy and loud and with no chance of ever leaving the ground. He bought himself a new pair of glasses – big, round and with dark lenses.
He put a lot of effort to make himself a mere wreck of old him and he succeeded.
Strong and stern and ruthless and all about points.
His body muscular, but somehow tighter and smaller than ever. Full of sharp edges, sticking out bones. As if it was feeding on his hatred and bitterness and sense of betrayal but they didn’t serve it too well.
Pink strands framing his face, hiding his overly protruding cheekbones, but not helping to conceal just how tired and frail it sometimes seemed to become.
Always slim and bordering on the edge of frail, now he was looking more and more like one of those failed experiments – sentenced off-handedly to death from starvation by unsatisfied scientists.
Reluctantly he took out his ATs again. He put them on with poor imitation of a smirk on his lips.
Comments are love ^^
Title: After
Author: Sessho
Rating: G?
Pairing: Sora/Kilik if you squint (I do)
Warnings: Angst
Words: ~400
A/N: betaed by
fiendie - thanks; dedicated to ms_rebellious <3After. She asked him what he was going to do after. What after? For him there was no ‘after’. There was the past. There were memories. There was Sora.
There wasn’t any ‘after’.
He didn’t need anything like that, he didn’t want it. Since that time he’s been tired. Completely burnt out. Or rather – he would be if not for that tiny bitter flicker of flame – passion, desire to put everything to an end.
It was burning him alive.
It was keeping him alive.
Frankly, being ‘alive’ had no significance for him. Fulfilling his goal – yes. Wiping out his past mistakes. His foolish, naïve errors. The grave one.
He had been a fool then. He was a fool now.
He could acknowledge that he had been. He did.
He would never allow himself to notice that he still was. It wouldn’t change anything. It would only burden him, stir doubts. He couldn’t afford any hesitation. Not because it would most probably kill him. Because it wouldn’t help him kill Sora.
He had to, he wanted to.
He breathed. He ate. He slept. He trained and he trained some more. Everything with that one thing in mind.
He didn’t know when it had started to define him. He didn’t want to know either.
When his aim is reached (not ‘if’ - never ‘if’) he will lose that thing. He will dispose of it himself – with his very own hands. He won’t regret.
There won’t be anymore what used to define him nor will be any need for a replacement.
He won’t bother. He won’t make an effort to shape himself anew. He won’t try to define his existence again.
There was no ‘after’ in his thoughts. No need for it.
‘After’ didn’t exist.
You can’t fly with just one wing. Especially when it only had been carved on your back right from the start.
Title: Foolish
Author: Sessho
Rating: G?
Pairing: Sora/Kilik if you squint (I do)
Warnings: More angst
Words: ~600
A/N: betaed by
fiendie - thanks; dedicated to ms_rebellious <3 Your fault that I love Kilik ;)Foolish idea, foolish dreams, foolish hopes. Once they had been more than that. Now they were reduced to that single adjective – simple and cruel in its simplicity. All they had already built and all they were striving to build were shattered. Like the glass that he drove Sora into. Like Sora’s legs.
Like the glasses – he still remembered getting them from Sora on his first birthday outside – on the day he himself chose but not without the other’s earlier insisting. Big glasses with round pink lenses. ‘So ya won’t look so stiff. ‘nd it will match your hair nicely too’. He was just about to puff from indignation and tell Sora to shove it when he added off-handedly – with that trademark grin of his - ‘So your world will be brighter ‘nd stuff’
His anger and outrage shrank immediately and he settled for roughly plucking the item from the other’s hand and giving him cold shrug for the rest of the day.
He stepped on them and crushed with his heel the very day he learned about Sora’s plans.
He was the only one who was trying to create anything. They all knew it, had known it right from the start, but didn’t bother to enlighten him. They all lied to him, betrayed him.
Beautiful, strong, prideful Rika who saw so much and did nothing. Ine who had her eyes set on Spitfire and him only, who proclaimed herself ‘neutral’ after all of this. Spitfire with his easy-going attitude. Dontores who was the weakest from all of them. Falko who treated everything with the same indifference – always concerned only about expanding his bloody road. Black Burn who was not any better than the rest.
His sister – the person who shared his face and looks. His dear sister who apparently didn’t share his thoughts and plans. Who didn’t mind stepping on his feelings and leaving him, betraying him even before everyone else.
None of them hesitated. None of them warned him.
And he was stupid for having trusted them, he was stupid for having believed in Sora. He was stupid.
And too naïve and gullible and just asking to be made a fool of.
All those things that he held dear – most of them were taken away from him. He himself took care of the rest.
All those feelings that he harboured – once stepped on he rendered of no use – tainted – and he disposed of them as well.
He changed ATs for a motorcycle – big, heavy and loud and with no chance of ever leaving the ground. He bought himself a new pair of glasses – big, round and with dark lenses.
He put a lot of effort to make himself a mere wreck of old him and he succeeded.
Strong and stern and ruthless and all about points.
His body muscular, but somehow tighter and smaller than ever. Full of sharp edges, sticking out bones. As if it was feeding on his hatred and bitterness and sense of betrayal but they didn’t serve it too well.
Pink strands framing his face, hiding his overly protruding cheekbones, but not helping to conceal just how tired and frail it sometimes seemed to become.
Always slim and bordering on the edge of frail, now he was looking more and more like one of those failed experiments – sentenced off-handedly to death from starvation by unsatisfied scientists.
Reluctantly he took out his ATs again. He put them on with poor imitation of a smirk on his lips.
Comments are love ^^