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deiaiko · 1 day

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#20.3 Company

"Where's Dan and Novick?" Grace asked, finding the living room unusually empty.

"They're going to the cinema since Agni gave us a day off today, cluck."

"Is that so?" Of course Agni had thought this far ahead. No wonder their teammates didn't try to wake either of them up. "I think we do need some time off."

"Speaking of, where's Agni?" Gyetang glanced at Grace and Agni's door.

"Ah. He's quite sick right now. I was about to fetch him some medicine and get us breakfast." Grace made his way down the stairs and allowed Bam to follow him.

Gyetang peeked from above. "Would you like me to take over your shift for lunch, cluck?"

Grace considered the offer. He did like cooking, and it usually worked wonders on easing his anxiety. But then Agni came to his mind, and Grace wanted nothing but to stay by his side until he got better. "I would really appreciate it, Gyetang. Sorry about that."

"It's no problem! How about macaroni soup?"

"Sounds good!"

"Got it, cluck." Gyetang gave him a salute and disappeared from his view.

Gyetang's cheerful aura filled some of the emptiness in Grace's chest. It sort of reminded him of Rak and Isu, and it made his heart ache again. He didn't want to cry now– he had cried enough last night, but the corner of his eyes started burning from the unshed tears. The fact that he would never be able to see them again was still a hard pill to swallow.

Bam tugged his shirt, and Grace realized he had been staring into the distance, stopping just in front of the storage room. He gave Bam an apologetic smile and went in, quietly searching between the aisles for the medicine Agni had listed. Bam not once let go of his shirt, as if he was trying to ground him. Surprisingly, it worked, seeing that his mind was brought to the weight of Bam's pull. Grace wondered how much Bam knew, looking at Bam's attempt to comfort him. Hwaryun must've told him what was going on, right? Was it the reason for his visit? Or did Bam just want his company after yesterday's breakdown regarding Rachel? Grace hoped it wasn't the latter.

Pocketing the needed medicine, Grace led them back upstairs to the kitchen where Gyetang had prepared two portions of reheated omelet fried rice and three glasses of orange juice. Looking at it, Grace realized he never had to find out what his old team's favorite foods were. So many moments he had missed, times that he could've used on getting to know them better. How could they still consider him a friend?

Gyetang waved from the living room, pulling Grace out of his daze. "Have you eaten yet, Viole? I can cook you something quick, cluck."

Grace could hear Bam's stomach growl, yet Bam didn't say anything. Grace figured Bam was probably torn between accepting and not being a bother to Gyetang. So he placed his hand on Bam's shoulder. "You can have Agni's share. I don't think he can stomach it right now anyway. I will get him some snacks instead."

So they both sat in the cafeteria, while Gyetang resumed playing on the game console. Bam stole careful glances at Grace between taking a spoonful, although Grace tried to ignore the worried look and ate his own ration as well. He wasn't really in the chatty mood right now, and he was thankful that Bam didn't try to start any conversation, or worse, pepper him with questions.

The food tasted bland, but maybe it was just him since Bam seemed to enjoy it. Grace finished the meal quickly. The uneasy and cold shinsu coming from their dorm room was getting harder to ignore. "Sorry, I can't accompany you for long. I really need to check on Agni."

Bam locked eyes with him before looking away, swallowing his food. "Okay."

Grace felt guilty for leaving his guest unattended, but he was more restless if he left Agni for longer. Even if Agni currently wasn't in immediate danger, Grace just couldn't help but worry. Still, he felt the need to make it up to Bam. So he put his hand on Bam's shoulder and pulled him into a side hug, "Thank you for stopping by. It means a lot to me."

Bam leaned his head to the embrace. "I will stay here for a while, if that's okay."

The unspoken 'I will be here if you need me' was clear to Grace. A warm feeling filled in his heart and he knew everything would eventually be okay again.

"Of course. Make yourself at home." Grace gave Bam a few pats on the back before pulling away and making his way to the kitchen to wash the dishes. "Is there anything you would like to do in the meantime, Bam?"

Gyetang overheard Grace's raised voice from across the room. "You're welcome to join me, cluck! The game is more fun with multiple players."

The offer seemed to pique Bam's interest. Bam looked at Grace with twinkling eyes, as if searching for approval that he shouldn't need to ask for. Grace returned with a nod and a warm smile, knowing very well that at this point Bam hadn't gotten the luxury of being able to play games, let alone with a friend.

After putting the dishes to dry, Grace rummaged through the kitchen cabinet to find some salty crackers. He put them on a tray along with the juice and a bottle of water. Before going into his dorm, he cast one last glance at Bam and Gyetang. "I will be back for lunch. Just knock if you need me."

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Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

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khruschevshoe · 25 days

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There's just something very specific about homoerotic character-enveloping friendships from around 2010 where they're semi-aware that gay people exist but queerbaiting isn't quite a thing yet sp their relationship consumes the narrative and changes them both irrevocably forever and they end in tragedy but the ending is JUST open enough for the fic writers to wriggle into that just makes me go fucking FERAL

#yes this is about trobed and merthur #trobed #merthur #merlin emrys #merlin x arthur #troy x abed #abed nadir #troy barnes #arthur pendragon #geothermal escapism #the diamond of the day #these two ships fundamentally altered my brain chemistry #I'll just be doing something else and randomly think about them #i honest to god don't think they'd be as poweful without the tragedy #i want to read every fix it fic specifically because of the unfinished tragic nature of their endings #because of the ways these characters fundamentally alter each other's lives so they can't exist without each other #platonic romantic who cares it's queer baby #two sides of the same coin

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tongues--and--teeth · 2 months

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Lovvveeeee this fic from @thebiscuitlabryinth sooo much omg. She’s such a visual writer I felt like I could actually see what was going on while reading lol.

Click for better quality!

POV: you’re Pure Vanilla Cookie

#Sorry for the tag!#I cannot give compliments for the life of me sorry #tbf I really like all his fics #but this one….. I am a sucker for dream sequences and stained glass….#couldn’t get SM’s soul jam fizzling out to look right #like I drew a whole abyss thing under it but it just kinda… didn’t work #anyway SM in light while PVs in more shadow a la we’re two sides of the same coin #they’re so special to me I also think they kiss right after this /j #crk #teethart #cookie run fanart #cookie run kingdom #fanart #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #cookie run #pure vanilla crk #pure vanilla cookie #vanilla milkshake #shadowvanilla #pureshadow #pure vanilla x shadow milk #digital art #artists on tumblr #honestly though it might just be the flu talking but this might be legit the best thing I’ve ever drawn #They're in the solarium of unity right??? bc I swear I saw that

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chthonic-kids · 1 month

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thinking about corvo and daud

two sons of serkonos, far from the place they once called home. one taken, one given away. children of the shore and the sea, bound to an empire of steel and blood. a sword masquerading as a shield, a knife eliminating stray threads from the shadows

#dishonored #i understand the knifecrow fics so much #two sides of the same coin #what is a sword but a knife with the backing of a throne behind it #corvo attano #daud #my thoughts

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ivypond11 · 8 months

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something something normscary. rotating in my brain like a rostisserie chicken <3

#normscary #normal oak swallows garcia #scary marlowe #the panels are from a nyx fic!#they make me so sick #i love them so much augh #do you ever think how they are two sides of the same coin #both having so much love to give and being so scared to love but finding that comfort in each other #dndads #dndads s2

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whataboutthreateninganass · 4 months

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Merlin and Arthur's prophecy:

“The Golden Age is promised. The Great King will come, born in love and death. He will be a miracle, Blessed by the Religion itself. The Great Purge of his Kingdom will follow. Dragon will slay dragon. Flame will die in flame. The kin of the Isle will burn. And from the ash, The Great Sorcerer will come, born in death and love. He will be Divine, Blessed of the Religion itself. They will mend the chasm. They will unite Albion. Two Dragons will rule the age of prosperity. They will come. It is promised.”

#screaming because they're LITERALLY PARALLELS IN EVERY WAY #TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN #AND THEY WERENT FUCKNG JOKING #Merlin is because Arthur is #like #anyways #from a fic I'll never finish #lol #prophecy #merlin emrys #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merthur #merlin and arthur #emrys

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strawlessandbraless · 1 year

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So long story short I forced my sister to watch Merlin and even managed to watch the last episode on Christmas for the full experience. She was devastated. So, to help her cope, I introduced her to the Merlin fandom and the wonderful fic And like the cycle of the year, we begin again by @katherynefromphilly

I just received this video, thoughts and prayers for @bagmanunlucky are appreciated 🙏

#merlin #bbc merlin #arthur x merlin #arthur pendragon #merthurweek2022 #merthur #and like the cycle of the year we begin again #merlin x arthur #merlin fanfic #merthur fanfic #merthur fic #merthur fic rec #merlin fic #for Camelot #young warlock #two sides of the same coin #the once and future fandom #once and future king #merlin bbc

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rexscanonwife · 29 days

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Kepler and Ahsoka haven't always...gotten along, to say the least. As initiates, Ahsoka was always very clearly miles ahead of everyone while he fell behind. Even if she didn't mean to, subconsciously she always considered him the lowest bar, she's obviously very talented cause she's nothing LIKE him.

Of course they grow to resent each other for this and butt heads, especially with their masters being best friends which means they're forced to be around each other a lot more 😅 but they don't realize how similar they really are! Eventually they're able to reconcile and become genuine friends, though! 💖

Taglist♡: @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @star-whores69 @sunstar-of-the-north @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @me-myself-and-my-fos @squips-ship @in-true-blue-love @cassmeeks @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @cherry-bomb-ships

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astrobei · 1 year

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prompt from @strangeswift: "literally anything madwheeler. them bonding, them in the future being besties, them arguing... whatever you want. just them."

It might only be her first week of high school, but Max is already so over it.

It meaning everything. The cramped desks, the giant textbooks, the smell of the locker rooms after third period gym. The way that there had been some plausible deniability, in middle school, about the inherent repulsiveness of teenage boys– and now any minute trace of that is gone, because holy fucking shit, it’s like all of a sudden, deodorant has just totally ceased to exist.

Which isn’t great for someone like Max, by the way, who stands a glorious five-foot-three– also known as the perfect armpit height for the average pubescent boy.

Yeah. She’s so over it.

If walking the hallways hadn’t been abhorrent enough because of this and this alone– which it is, mind you, it’s plenty bad enough– there’s everything else. Everything else meaning the looks. The stares and the glances and the whispers following her as she walks from first period English to second period Geometry, trying her hardest to not get violently lost in the hallways like a total freshman. It’s embarrassing enough being a freshman, right, because you don’t know where your classes are and you have to run to the cafeteria to get a good seat and you’re not completely jaded yet, so people can one hundred percent tell that you’re new.

Max is used to being the new girl. She’s used to holding her head high and marching down the hall like she knows the school like the back of her hand, when in reality, she’d never stepped foot in it before that morning. So the being a freshman thing is a certain kind of clumsy spotlight that she doesn’t mind.

What she does mind, however, is the dead brother thing.

Stepbrother, technically. As if that makes it any better, the way that her mom won’t look at her and suddenly there’s beer in the fridge where her mom never used to keep any before. If that makes the pitying glances and whispers as she passes by any better. As if that takes away from any of it.

She knows what the girls, especially, are thinking. So few casualties at Starcourt, and Billy Hargrove– the cool new boy from California, the one with the cool car and the charm and the hair and the lifeguard job at the pool– Billy Hargrove had to be the one to die.

Max supposes she can’t really blame them either. It’s easy to get caught up in someone from afar. Easy enough to get too caught up on the ridiculous amounts of body oil and the gross open front shirts and the hair they spend hours on every day to really see the small stuff.

Like how they’re an asshole, maybe. An asshole who caked the whole house up with the stench of cigarette smoke and stale beers and sweat. An asshole who liked to push people down to lift himself up. An asshole who bullied little kids just to make himself big again, who–

The girls didn’t see any of that, of course. Max is happy for them, despite the glares and the whispers and the pity. No one deserves to see that. Let them remember Billy as a hero. The king of Hawkins High.

Don't speak ill of the dead, et cetera. It's fine. This is a secret she can shoulder on her own.

Max swings the locker door open, shoving her Geometry textbook into her bag with a soft grunt. Another reason to hate high school– or maybe love it– is that she’s going to get so scary jacked by the end of the year.

“You’re not going to tryouts today?”

The voice behind her makes her jump, even though the hallway is just as crowded and cacophonous as it always is. Mike Wheeler is looming over her, one hand clutching tight at the strap of his backpack, looking, for all intents and purposes, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Max frowns. “Tryouts?”

“Lucas has tryouts today,” Mike explains, slow and condescending like he’s trying to explain long division to a toddler. “Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Max says immediately, which definitely makes her sound guilty of not remembering. But she had remembered. Of course she had remembered. It was all Lucas talked about for the last month. Basketball tryouts for the high school team. He’d said high school team like it was the big leagues that were personally recruiting him, as if he weren’t going out for JV.

“Right,” Mike says. Predictably, he doesn’t sound like he believes her. “You’re really not going?”

Max bristles. “What’s it to you?”

“Because Lucas is my friend,” Mike huffs, “and I’ve had to listen to him mope all week about you being too busy to see him at tryouts.”

“Yeah, so?” Max leans down to zip her backpack closed, the zipper catching momentarily on a stray notebook corner. She heaves it onto her shoulder and tries to pretend like it’s not as heavy as it is. Jesus H. Christ. “I can’t help being busy, Wheeler.”

“You’re not busy.”

“Yeah? How would you know?”

“Because you don’t do anything,” Mike scowls, falling into easy step beside her as she speeds down the hallway to class. The bell is going to ring any moment and– damn it.

She’s definitely lost.

Whatever, it’s fine. Geometry is, uh. It’s here somewhere. She just has to get Wheeler off her trail and then she’ll be free to be lost and confused in peace. Do not engage, she thinks. He’ll never shut up if you engage.

“You– I do things,” Max protests, despite herself. “I– I have homework.”

“Bullshit,” Mike scowls some more. He’s been scowling a lot lately, ever since summer ended. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out why. El isn’t talking to him and the For Sale sign in front of the Byers’ just got taken down and replaced with an obnoxiously happy Sold! sign, and now Mike Wheeler’s got a dark little cloud of rain and gloom following him around like a lost little puppy. “It’s the first week of ninth grade. We have no homework.”

Max grits her teeth. “What do you want me to say? You want me to get down on my knees and grovel for forgiveness? I’m allowed to be busy, okay, Mike, I don’t owe Lucas anything, we’re not dating anymore–”

“Yeah but you’re still his friend!” Mike exclaims, throwing his hands up and nearly smacking someone walking towards them in the face. The boy scowls. Mike ignores him.

Max looks away. Was it a right down this hallway or a left? Whatever. She goes right.

“Whatever,” she says. “Of course we’re friends.”

“Friends show up.” Mike jabs her in the shoulder with one finger, and she bats his hand away. “Friends show up. You know he’ll be so sad if you don’t–”

“Yeah?” Max spins around to face him, and jabs him in the chest with one finger, just for good measure. Mike makes an offended noise and rubs at the spot with his other hand. Not so nice, is it? “Yeah? Well if friends show up, when was the last time you went to Will’s?”

Mike blanches. “That’s– different,” he gets out. Max feels a guilty rush of satisfaction at his expression, at striking a nerve. Not so nice, is it?

“Friends show up,” she parrots gleefully. “But I know you’ve been avoiding him, so why can’t I avoid–”

“Me and Will aren’t you and Lucas,” Mike splutters, face going from a ghostly sort of white to a splotchy red all in the span of one and a half seconds. “Me and Will aren’t–”

Max waits, raising an eyebrow. “You and Will aren’t what?”

Mike ignores her. “Don’t turn this around on me,” he says. “This isn’t about me.”

“Feels an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black, Wheeler,” Max says anyway. “What is this? Some sort of intervention? Did Lucas put you up to this?”

“No way. He doesn’t know.”

Max lets out a sigh, not bothering to hide her frustration. “Then why do you care? Why can’t you just screw off?”

“Because Lucas is my friend,” Mike presses. The scowl on his face has given way to a stubborn, almost-pleading look. “And you know how much this means to him, and–”

“Well, tough shit, okay?” Max snaps, and Mike’s mouth falls blessedly shut. “I can’t do this right now. I have to go to class and– you can stop following me now, by the way. I don’t need another stalker.”

Mike’s upper lip twitches. “We have second period Geometry together, asshole,” he says, yet somehow not unkindly. “I literally sit next to you.”

Oh. Maybe he does. Max feels a little bad for not noticing, but she hasn’t been noticing a lot of things lately. She’s spent most of the first week focused on drawing as little attention to herself as possible. Getting in and out of class as soon as she can. Running home before anyone can corner her and– God forbid– rope her into hanging out or whatever.

And see, that’s the thing, is that a different version of herself– months ago, when things were good and simple and fun and wonderfully uncomplicated– would have gone. Of course she would have gone. She can’t remember the last time she had friends like this. Definitely not back in California, definitely not right before the move. The summer had been some of the best weeks of her life. Before the– you know, before the shit had totally hit the fan and Billy died and Hop died and El was moving away and she and Lucas broke up. Again.

They’d broken up before too, and they’d always gotten back together, but it seemed like a finality this time. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could make up to her with jewelry and teddy bears and chocolate from Melvald’s with the price sticker scratched off (and Mrs. Byers’ employee discount no doubt utilized).

It was different this time because he didn’t need to make things up to her. Because it wasn’t his fault, and she wasn’t dumping his ass because he’d been immature and loud and thoughtless in typical thirteen-year-old fashion.

He’d been the opposite, actually.

She turns away from Mike before he can see her face.

Lucas had been so composed about it, so mature. He hadn’t rolled his eyes or scoffed or been frustrated when she’d said it. He’d been– quiet. Sad. Accepting. If that’s what you want, he’d said, and she’d nodded quietly before stepping off the bleachers and walking away.

It was what she wanted, because it was easier this way, but something still made her frustrated and keyed up at the way he’d said it. Quiet and sad and without a fuss.

More than anything, Max wants it to be April again, when things were simple. When he’d win her back and deep down she’d be secretly pleased that he hadn’t gotten tired of this inane push and pull. That he wanted her enough to spend his allowance on that teddy bear or those roses. She’d never really been mad at him. That’s just who she was– someone who pushed and pulled on the slightest of whims. Someone who dragged everyone else along with her, just because she could.

“Max?” Mike prompts. “The bell’s going to ring, and we’re in the wrong wing, so–”

The scowl has disappeared from his face a bit. He looks strangely contemplative.

Not angry. Not pitying. Just– looking.

Max takes in a deep breath and crosses her arms. “And you didn’t tell me this before?”

“You were all– all angry and stomping around and– it didn’t seem like the time!”

“Like you’ve ever cared,” she huffs, then spins on her heel and sets off in the opposite direction.

“No, Max– go left.”

“Oh. I knew that.”

She didn’t know that of course, but it’s not like she’s going to say this out loud. Mike catches up to her in three long strides, his bag bouncing obnoxiously against his back. “So?” he prompts, and Max wants to slam her head into the wall and yell. “Are you going?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insanely persistent? Like annoyingly so?”

Mike grins. “I consider it one of my better qualities.”

“You remind me of poison ivy,” Max grumbles, as they turn the corner into the east wing. The bell rings sharply, the sound shrill and tinny through the hall, and she startles. “Oh shit–”

“So you’ll come, right?” Apparently Mike Wheeler doesn’t care about racking up tardies in his first week here. It’s not like Max does either, but she does like to hold the moral high ground.

She shakes her head, almost smiling despite herself. “Why do you want me to so bad?”

“It’s important to Lucas,” Mike insists, “and he’ll want you there. I don’t know how many more times I can say the same damn thing.”

“I don’t think Lucas wants to see me, Mike. I broke up with him, remember?”

At this, Mike stops abruptly, right in the middle of the hallway. Max collides roughly with his shoulder with a shocked gasp.

“Hey! What’s your deal?”

Mike grabs her shoulders, frustrated. “It’s because we– I’ll kill you if you repeat this to anyone, Max, I swear– but we miss you, okay? All of us. We miss you. It’s not that complicated, seriously.”

We miss you.

If she’s being honest, Max hadn’t been aware that there was anything to miss. She visited El, sometimes, after school when the trailer park got dark and lonely and way too quiet. It wasn’t the same as before, though. Things were heavier, sadder. Too many things unspoken, hanging in the air.

El lived with the Byers now, and sometimes Will would be there too. There was something heavier and sadder about him too, but Max couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. But surely there was nothing to miss in her absence. The four of them did just fine before she came along– Lucas and Dustin and Mike and–

She glances down at his hands on her shoulders, and gets a brief flash of phantom pain– hands gripping her wrists, too tight, angry. Being pushed against walls, wrestled and manhandled and shoved into the car. Road rage.

So much anger. God, there was so much anger.

She was tired of the anger, but now she doesn’t know what to do without it. Maybe that means there’s something wrong with her. Normal people don’t think like this.

She pulls away sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

Worry flashes across Mike’s face, a split second and then it’s gone. His hands fall limply to his sides. “I– sorry.”

Max feels bad. Really, she does. She wants to go. Really, she does. She wants to laugh and tease Lucas as he misses free throw after free throw, and then congratulate him when he inevitably makes the team anyway, because of course he will. He's a shoo-in, and she wants to run down to the gym after school and shake the nerves out of him and tell him that. She wants to go.

She wants–

Mostly, though, she just wants to be left the hell alone.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Mike’s face falls, ever-so-slightly. The guilt swells up inside her and she looks down at her shoes. They’re getting even more late with every second she waits here, unmoving, and yet– “I really can’t.”

Mike doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he sighs, and reaches for the handle of the door to the classroom, pausing for a moment before opening it. “Next time?”

It’s weirdly hopeful. Max swallows the guilt back down. “Next time,” she lies, and follows him inside.

#i can't believe i've never written madwheeler before #this got sadder than anticipated #sorry abby #i hope this still scratches that itch #i have a max character study brewing in my mind so this is like. dipping my toes #testing the waters #god i love them #two sides of the same coin for real #fun sized fics #madwheeler #mike wheeler #max mayfield #ficlet #alexa play midnight rain #fic

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abisalli · 1 year

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Hey how’s your day going? I just cried over a 200k Merlin fic

#fee rambles #it was a very good fic #they’re two sides of the same coin your honor #my life my soul my one great love #CAN YOU HEAR ME!!!!#CAN YOU!!! HEAR ME!!!

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deiaiko · 4 months

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#18.1 Rak

Rak let out a huff and sat down next to Agni. Agni peeked over at Rak, who was looking far ahead, as if his past were replaying right before him.

TW: Self harm and suicide…in a way? (Sorry if it gets too dark. I put the TLDR on the tags)

Masterlist

☕ Buy me coffee ☕

"I met him back when I was young, about a hundred years ago," Rak started.

Agni was taken aback at how long the gap between their time travel was. He wondered how much his Rak had changed.

"It was getting cold, which meant it was hunting season. I got bored and picked a fight with the toughest and biggest prey I could find."

Agni hummed when Rak paused for a moment too long, "Let me guess. You underestimated it and you lost?"

"The river was slippery!" Rak crossed his arms defensively. "And I didn't lose!"

"Sure," Agni rolled his eyes, one corner of his lips upturned. "How come?"

"I didn't lose, but I didn’t win either." Rak looked away, probably in embarrassment. "Another spear pierced its head before mine. That's when I met him."

From the way Rak's expression turned fiery, Agni had a suspicion that that exact moment had affected Rak more than what he spilled out. It didn't surprise him however, since he knew Rak’s ego.

"He was around for a while, acting like he cared about me." Rak huffed again, more fondly this time, eyes closed and arms still crossed. "He taught me a few fancy tricks with rocks and how to hunt better. He talked a lot about turtle this and turtle that. There were so many, I don't remember. But Black and Blue turtles were the ones he talked about the most, saying something like 'no one else will be more worthy prey than them.'"

Agni felt his chest tighten. To think that their Rak had acknowledged them and even bragged about it…it filled him with a sense of pride and longing.

"I didn't believe him then, since turtles are boring and no way they could do what he said they could." Rak paused and untangled his arms, eyes focusing and turning predatory, "But when he said that these turtles were unlike what we had there, I have been wanting to meet those turtles he told me about and hunt them."

Rak's story was intriguing. But even if it flattered him, Agni was more curious about his Rak's whereabouts. "What happened to him then? Wasn't he…badly injured?"

Rak frowned and went silent. But when he found his voice, it lacked its previous vigor. "He was. It looked fresh and so impossible to walk with, but he did. I asked if it was painful, but he said he didn’t feel a thing."

Third-degree burn. Agni thought to himself. But there was no way it spread evenly. Some areas must've been painful.

"He definitely lied," Rak voiced Agni's thought. "He was just acting to look tough."

The edge of Agni's lips twitched in an attempt to suppress his smile. That's him alright. And of course Rak could figure his own self easily.

"One day he challenged me in an all out duel," Rak's gaze turned dark. "His wounds had weakened him over the months, and it was obvious who would be the winner."

Agni frowned at the implication.

Wordlessly, Rak called out his arms inventory which held a familiar looking spear that shouldn't have been in his possession at this point in time. Agni would recognize that design anywhere, "...Mad shocker."

"He said he wanted to test me, and he gave me this." Rak glared at the spear as if it was responsible for his misfortune. "And later told me that I should be proud, for only a true hunter was allowed to defeat him."

Agni felt his throat going dry, and gulped. "He died, didn't he?"

Rak's eyes sharpened. Whether it was in regret or anger, Agni couldn't tell. "I killed him."

Agni didn't know what to feel about that. On one hand, he could empathize with how much pain Rak must've felt from the injury, especially with the lack of proper treatment that could cure or even just lessen the pain. But on the other hand, it meant that his Rak was truly gone, in such a way, and he still couldn't wrap his head around it.

Rak put his pipe back to invisible mode, like looking at it had brought him so much grief. "I've never used that spear since."

The silence stretched, with only the loud noises coming from the training ground to fill it. Agni wasn't sure how to reply to that without being overly friendly nor physical, and he definitely wouldn't do that to Rak, who only met him today.

Sitting beside Rak like this reminded him of their chat before the workshop battle, on the balcony. It was when Rak truly let him see his buried feelings, his desire to climb the tower together with him and Grace. And with that, the grief finally started to dawn on him. The scar on his face felt itchy and his hand was already clawing at his mask before he registered the motion. He sighed and put his hand back on his knee, pushing the tangled feeling to the back of his mind to be dealt with later. And since the silence had stretched out for too long, he asked; "What was he to you?"

"A rival," Rak looked thoughtful before adding, "and family."

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#TLDR: current Rak was good friends with Agni's Rak #They met about a century before current Rak entered the tower #Future Rak is dead #--end of TLDR--#I do love Rak. but this is the price he must pay for being one of my favorites #ok but did you know that spear inventory is called pipe? i was surprised too #to everyone who was excited last week for future rak comeback...I'm not sorry #it was very entertaining to see your comments (and imagining the despair) hahaha. I thank you for that #anyway. life been very hectic right now. i consider taking a break after valentine update to stock up some chapters #i barely have time to write now. let alone drawing #I'd rather keep my weekly updates than posting once a month. Lest you forget the story and had to reread previous chapter(s) eachtime #tower of god #tog #two sides of the same coin fic #my fic #my art #khun #koon #khun a.a #khun aguero agnis #rak wraithraiser #rak

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arthursknight · 2 years

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having a lot of thoughts recently about post-canon merlin's relationship with music

bc like. he would have lived through the evolution of a lot of mediums-- written word, theatre (please dear gods do not GET me started on this one it's for your own good), visual art-- but, arguably, the one that has some of the most dynamic change has been music. (i say this very carefully, knowing i am opening myself up to the fact that, in a lot of ways, i am Wrong)

this is to say, because my brain is rotten--

i imagine merlin being delighted about the way music changes throughout the ages. i don't know much in the way of medieval music past its religious connotations, but i like imagining the centuries of folk music merlin must have been exposed to. the way music was used for storytelling, for communication. musical instruments changing and evolving and choral arrangements changing and evolving and thematic structure changing and evolving. all Very Interesting

here's where the rot comes in

i imagine there's a point in which merlin starts thinking i wish arthur could hear this. and for, you know, the absolute vast majority of his time on earth, merlin wouldn't have the ability to preserve the music he's hearing for arthur to hear it. so maybe he teaches himself how to play, so he can memorize these pieces that arthur will love. and he just has tomes of sheet music that he composes over the years, especially the early years when a lot of it wasn't really written down. (this is where my musical history knowledge suffers. please flay me if I am wrong.)

and he sees all these musicians that he's like. arthur would love this. and he has these wild stories of like, seeing mozart as a child, that he saves up for one day

and then i think of how fucking excited merlin would be when we finally got the ability to record music. at the very least with most other forms of art, there's always been a way to preserve it-- written word has the privilege of being written, visual art has a canvas. but music recording is a VERY young invention (save for the music box, but even then, that isn't a recording moreso than a reproduction), and suddenly merlin has the ability to catalogue all the things he wants arthur to hear

and so i imagine years of vinyl and 8-tracks and phonographs and, as the technology evolves, merlin has to adjust and save and like.

as music becomes more dependent on lyrics, merlin starts finding things that remind him of arthur and just. starts crafting playlists. starts thinking of how to introduce him to how music changes. starts crafting his own history that he can one day show arthur. starts imagining how arthur would react to bluegrass, gospel, blues, rock n roll, punk. (if he purposefully saves a signed edition of never mind the bollocks just to see arthur's face when he hears "god save the queen" for the first time, that's his prerogative.)

just. years and years of saved up songs, all because merlin would be in a concert hall or a church or a community gathering or playing alone in his room and would hear a chord that said arthur. and he would think, "even if he doesn't speak my language when he returns, he will know this."

and, you know, if-- when-- arthur comes back, if arthur finds that the majority of those songs are love songs, well.

he doesn't need to be any the wiser.

#merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #merthur #two sides of the same coin #merlin bbc #anyway someone write me this fic.#i literally cannot i have so many fics to write.#but please. Please.#thank you. god bless you all.#also make the playlists. thanks.#niche interests hours

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