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#or maybe a prologue
sophiethewitch1 · 4 months
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In Death's Embrace Pt. 2
Jason Todd x Death!Reader
Part one!
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Jason shoots up in bed, his hand stretched out. He’s sweating, drenched in his own panic in fear. His hand falls into his lap, still twitching. He doesn’t remember what he was dreaming about, doesn’t remember what he was trying to grasp.
He knows he failed. He knows it slipped through his fingers like sand. He doesn’t think there’s anything more tragic in the world. He doesn't know why.
“Once again, you amaze me. Breaking the rules of the universe, not once, but twice.”
His hand is wrapped around his gun before you even finish the sentence. It’s pointed between your eyes once you do. To your credit, whoever just broke into his apartment without triggering any of his alarms, you don’t even flinch. No, you just fold your hands behind your back and give him an odd look.
You tilt your head, eyes moving over the scars on his face and catching on the lock of white hair he sports. Then, your face breaks into a smile, and something in Jason’s heart jumps. There’s a knowing in your eyes that he doesn’t like. An understanding.
You see through him, somehow. He doesn’t like it. He’ll shoot you for the offence.
“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Jason demands, assessing you like you assess him. You don’t look like a combatant, in long dark flowing fabrics. Still, he knows not to underestimate someone based on their appearance.
That damned clown never looked like a threat. And now he was standing here, with someone who seemed just as crazy in his bedroom. Only someone that crazy would break into his home.
“Are you going to shoot me?” your words are teasing, eyes fond. Maybe you’re crazier, then. You don’t believe he’ll do it. He will.
He should have already. It’s base curiosity that holds his trigger finger. That’s what he thinks it is, at least.
“I might,” he finally says, “Again, who the fuck are you?”
“It’s interesting talking to you like this. You knew who I was straight away last time, but this time you turn your weapon to me,” you continue, ignoring his threat. A muscle jumps in his cheek, annoyed at your presence, at your blatant disregard for him.
“Last time?”
Your smile turns into a bright grin. He’s momentarily stunned by it.
“So, you really haven’t won just yet. That gives me a small measure of pride,” you say, walking over to the window with your hands still behind your back, “Maybe enough to spare you from my anger.”
You look over at him again. Purse your lips.
“Maybe not.”
“I think you forget who is holding the gun,” Jason reminds you, clicking his teeth at the way you just shrug.
You go quiet. No more teasing words or ominous warnings. Jason should shoot, shoot now. He’d hate the cleanup, hate the mess, hate all the effort, but it was necessary. You were dangerous. That much was obvious.
Instead, he opens his big dumb mouth and asks, “What do you want?”
You sigh, shaking your head. “Is it terrible I don’t know? Rules are rules after all, but this situation is… complicated. You’re not another Sisyphus, you don’t even want to be here.”
“You broke into my home and started threatening me. That doesn’t sound complicated,” Jason insists. This is such a fucking weird conversation. And Sisyphus? Jason had done his homework, he knew about the mythical man who cheated death. He thinks he’s actually quite a lot like Sisyphus.
He still doesn’t appreciate the comparison.
“Yes well, I don’t want to be here either, de-” your voice cuts off, eyes widen in surprise, and then narrow on him like he caused some great offence. Inside him, he feels his dead little heart wither even further at the sight. Like you being upset with him was one of the worst mistakes of his life.
Once again, you broke into his house. All he’d done was tell you to get lost. Oh, and maybe threaten to shoot you, but who cares about that. He soothes the momentary panic, insisting you obviously hadn’t.
Which is dumb. He’s being an idiot. Jason Todd is being an absolute moron right now, and he just needs to shoot you.
Instead of paying attention to the gun trained on you, you stare out his window, at the streets of Gotham’s Hill district below. The sun is rising, rays bursting through the fog. The people are just getting up with it. It’s one of the few times the city is anything close to quiet. Most are still sleeping, and so is crime.
Warm sunlight catches on your cheek, and again, something inside Jason cries out at the sight. It’s worrying.
“I think I want you dead, again,” you confess.
Jason’s breath whooshes out of his lips, and his gun arm twitches for a second. Well, fuck him, that’s certainly a statement. And again, why hadn’t he shot you?
He still doesn’t do it. He must be crazy, too.
“I’m being greedy. I always have been, of course. It’s what I am… But especially this time, I think I’m being too greedy,” you sound sad, your fingers trailing across the wooden window frame, “I think I shouldn’t be here, but it’s the ones like you who make it hard.”
You rub dust against your fingers, and Jason feels embarrassed for the state of his home. He realises a second later what a stupid thought that is, you broke in. He wonders how many times he’ll have to repeat it to remember it. He feels uncomfortable and off-kilter, and he knows it’s because of you.
He needs to get you out.
“I’ve always hated the special ones, you know. The smart ones. You’re too good at pulling me, manipulating me, tugging on my strings like a puppet. You make me human,” you turn back to him, crossing your arms and resting against the sill. You’re comfortable in his home, more so than he usually is. Calm, relaxed, like the world is at peace, and worries are something of the past.
He wonders what that must be like. Fucking delightful, he bets.
“Are you not human?”
You raise an eyebrow in response.
Shit. Ah, fuck it. His finger tightens, and the recoil jerks his arm. The silencer keeps the early apartment quiet. Quiet, if not for the sound of the bullet clattering to the ground.
You both glance down at the crumpled piece of metal sitting pathetically on the floor. You lean over, pick the piece up, and then lift it to your eye, watching that same sunlight reflecting the early morning in the steel. A small rainbow flitters across your skin. You close your fist, and you stroll over to Jason.
It takes him a moment to remember to be wary of you, and by that time, you already have his hand cradled between yours.
You place the remnants of the bullet in his scarred palm.
“I expect an apology for that later,” your voice is soft, sweet. Loving, even after he shot you in the chest. Not like it did anything. Your fingers curl around his, tracing every crack and crevice. You do it with concentration, with precision, like you were made just to touch him, to comfort him.
A memory, gone in a flash. He feels it’s loss like a toothache.
He swallows, “I’m sorry.”
You laugh, and the sun’s not outside, it’s in his bedroom and it’s smiling and it’s everything and it’s here in his grasp and he knows it’ll be okay again. It has to be okay again. You said it’d be okay, didn’t you? He can’t remember. His head’s swirling, spinning, falling right into you. Right back into you.
“Or now, that’s fine too,” you sound delighted. He’s glad.
You let go of him, and move back to the window, drawn by the view outside. Jason's hand clasp and unclasp. The street obviously fascinates you, your eyes flicking back and forth and tracking the movement of every soul outside. He wants your gaze back on him.
Jason clears his throat. You glance back at him, then pointedly, his right hand.
He can feel his face flush, embarrassingly. He’s still holding the gun. He turns the safety off and tucks it back under his pillow.
He clears his throat again. He wants something from you, expects it, really. But he can’t tell what it is. He thinks you know, though. That you’re withholding it, for some reason. He’s irrationally irritated at that. You said you were greedy, but nothing could compare to his greed.
Even if you wanted him dead. He was starting to put together the pieces, but he couldn’t seem to feel alarmed. No, it simply wasn’t necessary, with you here.
Still, it’s not quite enough. He wants more. He wants to know more. So he waits for you to speak again.
“I’ve thought about doing this so many times over the years. It would’ve been selfish, and more than that, outside of my duty. You’re not one of mine anymore. For a little while, at least.”
He wants to be. He wants to be yours. He wants it more than he can breathe. If he’s yours, maybe you can be his.
You glance to the side, thinking out loud, “But then you went and started remembering. I’ve worked very hard to make sure that’s impossible, you know. That the memories from my realm stay there.”
You turn a disapproving glance his way.
“Of course, far be it for me to get in the way of a Wayne and his decision to break the world. You lot do that far too much, give me too much work,” you mutter that last part, hand moving to your brow. Like you’re massaging away a headache. He should be doing that for you.
“But you did it. And you’re here. And now I am, too. And I have to go soon.”
You drift closer to him, and Jason’s breath catches. He’s still. He doesn’t make a single movement, scared he’ll scare you away. He realises that’s stupid. That you caught a bullet to the chest. That you’re stronger than anything he could imagine.
He still thinks he could startle you if he’s not careful. That you’re like the mist outside, incorporeal. But Jason can do anything if he puts his mind to it. He knows how to catch the wind, how to gather steam on the underside of glass, how to cup sand and water and feathers and everything that would ever want to be outside of his reach.
You’re out of his reach. He has to let you step into it.
You stop a foot away from him. He grinds his teeth, and again, you raise a brow at him. He doesn’t move, despite his muscles screaming at him too. You give him a nod and take another step closer. He still doesn’t move, and you give him a satisfied look.
“So, what should we do, Jason?”
“How do you know my name?”
“What? Did dying strip you of any brains?”
The banter is familiar. He doesn’t mean to ruin it.
“Do you have to leave?” again, a voice in his mind whispers. You look sad, again. Again, again, again. All of this is an again.
“Eventually. Sooner rather than later,” you sigh, “You can keep a secret, can’t you, Jason?”
“Not if you leave.”
It’s a bold move. You take a step back, and he winces. Back and forth, back and forth… Still, he doesn’t take the words back. He can’t, because it’s the truth, and now that you’re here, there’s no going back. He’ll do anything to keep you with him, and if you go too far for him to reach, he’ll follow you.
“I think that’s an unfair request,” you say, and he shakes his head.
“It’s fair. You don’t have to stay forever, just a while.” Now that, that is a lie. You seem to know it, too.
You look out the window again. Jason, after a moment's hesitation, moves over beside you. You don’t flee, your attention is on the people below. He opens the window for you, and you give him another smile. He collects them like the rare treasures they are. You lean out into the air, and he freaks, then realises you’d shrugged off a bullet. He stays close, vigilant, anyway.
“I’m curious, I have to admit. What’s this place like?” you ask, resting elbows on the wood. The streets are foggy, as they usually are in the morning. The Hill isn’t the nicest place, not the cleanest either, but you look at it like it’s heaven incarnate. He can see his neighbour down at the local grocer, the old woman who hoards cats seeing her grandson off to school, and one of his guys hanging out on the street, keeping the space safe.
Under his orders. The Hill wasn’t the nicest place, but he liked to keep it as nice as possible.
...Peaceful, he wanted the people here to have their peace. He was obsessed with it, really.
“It sucks.”
You laugh again, music to his ears, “Not the best advertising.”
“I take it back, it’s the best place on earth,” he replies, barely paying attention to his words. He’s seeing how close he can get to you. How many inches he can claim. His face is almost in your neck by the time you lean back, and he curses under his breath.
“It doesn’t need to be,” you say, pushing away from the sill and turning to wander around his room. You take in everything about the space. From the general mess, to the Jane Austen books crammed into his bookshelf, to the mask he’s left half-hazard on his bedstand.
You watch it all, just as fascinated with the world outside as the one inside. He wants to believe that means he’s special to you. And if it doesn’t, that just means he needs to work a little harder.
Finally, you turn to him. You take in every facet of him, once again. Your all-knowing gaze finds his hair again. You seem especially fascinated by that. You lift your hands, and he’s in them before he realises he’s moved.
You map his features with your hands, and he makes a little sound in the back of his throat. Ignoring that, you wipe the bags under his eyes. He feels his sanity slip away under your touch. You trace the scar on his chin, the one above his left brow. The stubble along his jaw. The bump in his nose. The edge of his lips. He wonders at the smirk you give when he groans. And finally, you come to that strand of hair.
You tug on it. A memory fizzles again, and to his frustration, he can’t quite grab it. Can’t quite take it, claim it. It’s not his, not yet.
You haven’t given him permission to remember. He wants it, he wants it, he needs it.
“I think I can stay, maybe. Just for a little, just a little. You want that, right?” your hands cup his face, and he knows, somehow, that you’ve done this a thousand times. And if this is the thousand-and-first time you’ve held him like this, he’s glad. To be back in your embrace is the sweetest pleasure. The greatest relief.
“Yes. Yes, yes… yes, I do,” he’s nodding, he’s begging, he’s pleading with you. Just for a moment more, just a second more. Just a little bit more, before you let him go again. He leans down and presses his forehead to you, sighing in your scent, the wheat reeds in the wind, the warm sun on skin.
He wonders what he has to do to make sure you never let go again. He wonders if you’ll let him do it.
You shake your head, giving him a rueful smile, “You really are too cute, darling.”
That nickname. The key to his heart, his mind. Every single barrier keeping him from you is gone, crumbled by your will. He is thankful you’ve given them back. He is thankful for every moment you ever had with him. And he’ll make a thousand more.
He presses his lips to yours, arms holding you close. When you melt into him, sigh into the kiss, he feels a euphoria he didn’t know could be true. He feels a relief he didn’t know even in his days under, even when you only held him.
He feels alive with it.
“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers against you, and he can feel that familiar, that damning smile spread.
“You left me. I had to hunt you down myself, Jason dear.”
Maybe he couldn’t have his peaceful death. But he had a loving one, and that was all he needed.
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medi-bee · 2 months
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when the stars are in time or sometthing
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egophiliac · 8 months
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I love your take on Crowley!
I know that the early, non-Diasomnia stories aren't really your thing, but are you reading the novels at all?
I have been following some of the fan translations and the second book seems intense! Would love to hear what you think about them.
thank you! 💚💚💚 I'm not really sure why you think I don't like the earlier arcs though, I love pretty much all the characters and their storis! (I think 5 and 1 are my favorite of the past episodes, though 6 infected me with the Shroud brainrot something fierce.) I just...ESPECIALLY love diasomnia. :') but there is room in my heart for all of these dweebs! like, who among us is not just as ride-or-die for Adeuce as they are for us.
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that said, I don't really follow the other adaptations like the manga (aside from a dip-in just to see the new Yuus) or the novels, though I keep meaning to check them out! I do like seeing the differences between the different forms of media, and how certain things get adapted one way or another! but alas, time/a lack of accessibility stands in our way more often than not. :( someday...someday I will have time to consume all of the media...
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aphantimes · 1 year
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I love this scene so so so so so much. It’s a demonstration of Knuckles’ strength, but also shows some INSANE precision. If he just had brute strength with no technique behind it he WOULD NOT be able to do this. He’s EXTREMELY skilled and I loooove seeing it demonstrated like this. And the fact that he doesn’t even break a sweat? He isn’t exerting himself at all here? It makes me wanna know what him going all out looks like!!!
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vampiresi · 5 days
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youtube
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gummi-ships · 1 year
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Kingdom Hearts 2 - Twilight Town
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clericofshadows · 2 months
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REGIS SHEPARD AND KAIDAN ALENKO MASS EFFECT 3 - MARS
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thebubblesareevil · 1 year
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Dreaming too Fast
Part 2
Ever since the accident that made him the Flash, Barry had been having the same dream. Over and over again, the dream would taunt him.
In the dream he is running, running as fast as he possibly can, but never fast enough. He's being chased by the Flash, but it's not him, it can't be him, draped in a black suit with and his face nothing but a masked skull. Every night he would close his eyes in his bed, next to his wife, and every night he would run.
This night was no different. He laid down next to his wife, kissing her before he drifted off to sleep. Like always he opened his eyes and he was surrounded by yellow and white light racing forward towards something he would never reach. He didn't hesitate, he only made that mistake once, he ran as fast as he could, speeding through the tunnel of light. He could feel the creature following him as he tried to push harder, faster, further.
There was something up ahead of him, a figure draped in black. It was him, it had to be, there was no one else! Barry panicked, doing his very best to stop, to turn around to GET AWAY. But it was too late, he was caught up in the momentum and he spun out. He landed face down before the creature, he prayed he would wake up before it got him.
"Dude, major wipe out. Maybe slow down a bit, this place is fast enough without you pushing it along." shouted a voice. Barry blinked from his place on the ground. He slowly pushed himself up from the ground before he looked up to get a better look at the stranger.
"You're... just a kid?" The teen raised a brow. He couldn't be much older than Wally.
"Why did that sound like a question? Hey road runner! Is this guy a friend of yours?" he shouted to someone behind Barry.
He quickly spun around only to come face to face with the very creature who had been tormenting him for years. He froze, there was no point in running, it was to late. It was.... turning around and running away. Barry turned back to look at the kid in shock.
"Don't look at me like that! You're the one that's been running around here willy nilly, throwin this place outa wack. Honestly it's my favorite nap spot and you go and ruin it by agitating the whole pocket dimension." The kid said in a huff as he started to float off the ground.
Barry shook his head "Who are you? Where are we?" The kid stared at him like he was crazy.
"How on earth did you get into the speed force on accident?!"
"I'm sorry care to repeat that?!?! What do you mean I'm in the speed force?!?! You were taking a nap in the speed force?!" Barry's jaw dropped.
"Hey! Don't give me that look! Nobody bothers you hear as long as you don't go running around, and you're surrounded by white noise! It's a peak napping location!" Barry takes a breath to retort but can't actually find any fault in his logic so in stead he says,
"You never told me who you are." The kid blinked once, then twice before giving him a wide toothy grin.
"You can call me Phantom."
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To me anyway, there's something so devastating about Kagari's monotone. It's like you can actually hear every emotion that should be there but isn't. No emotion in his eyes, no emotion in his voice. He's just an extension of his sword, resting in nothingness between kills.
If there really exists something about him that's spoiled, I hope Emma abuses it until the smile returns to his voice.
If Chevalier had a nickname for Kagari, would it not be the same one he has for Licht 😭
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bbnibini · 10 months
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I wonder if it's a design choice or the devs themselves can't make up their mind, but why did Solomon's eye colour "change" in NB? The chibi sprites in the OG show his eyes are shades of grey to brown/almost gold-bronze.
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The NB chibi sprite shows his eyes to be dark blue and brownish-gold.
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Don't even get me started with the cards and merch that can't make up his effing eye colour
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To my Solobesties (I'm calling Solomon stans this now. I think we formed a strange kinship after lesson 17 even if we never interact lmao), especially artist solobesties, hats off to you and your service to the community.
My personal HC is kinda a spoiler for uhhhh something I'm writing, but here it is:
"It's just…your eyes are like you: I can't figure them out." "MC, I-" "No! No! Solomon, I'm sorry! No…it's not like that, I promise! Look at me, won't you? Please look at me." So he did. His eyes trembled as he met with yours. How could he have hidden this part of himself for this long? How could you not notice? How could you forget? How could Father be so cruel to him and you for simply existing? You traced the corner of his lips with your thumb as you held him by the cheek. He was leaning onto your right hand, unable to maintain his gaze. He was surprisingly bashful. Adorably shy without his facades. But he looked like he would crumble even with a gentle word so you did not say anything. He looked at you expectantly, then looked away as your gaze burned onto him for too long and muttered, "You can't figure me out?"in almost a whisper, after a long-drawn out silence, weighing in his words, watching your expressions and body language. Afraid, so deathly afraid. You smiled. "It's like I'm looking at a mirror. Sometimes it's silver, sometimes it's midnight. When you look at the world around you and then look back at me, I feel like you've captured the sky and the oceans in your eyes. It's beautiful." His face was red all over, even to the tips of his ears. It was such a shame. You haven't even said everything you wanted to say to him yet. That he was the moon and the stars to your daytime; gold and silver gazes, looking after you from afar in the many branches of realities he couldn't be as honest with you as he was now. Ah. What will you do without him now? How can you give this up after remembering everything? You knew it was selfish, but you love him. Both of him. Every part of him just as much as he loved you and every part of you that existed. But now, you had to say goodbye. Again. How truly unfair.
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syrupyyyart · 9 months
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A whole new chapter of Motley is up! Go read it right now!!!!!!!!!
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whumblr · 1 month
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Yknow what, I'm gonna pull a 'fuck it, let's do this'.
Been teasing myself with prison whump for years now and I've been wanting to start the series ever since after hiwthi ended but never got to it. Perfectionism holding me back. Now, we'll just see where it ends.
So, new series. Will put the prologue up this Sunday :) Excite.
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flourbray · 6 months
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via ineosgrenadiers on instagram
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deiaiko · 3 months
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#19.3 Unravel
It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.
Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.
They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.
Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"
Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"
"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"
"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."
"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"
"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."
"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.
Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.
"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"
Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arms ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 
Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.
Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"
"There's always a chance–"
"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."
Grace fell silent and went still.
Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"
"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"
"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.
Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."
"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.
Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"
"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.
Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."
Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.
"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."
Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.
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Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.
Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.
Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."
Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.
When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.
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#Whee we get to know some of their past. Specifically their turning point#I hope it flows nicely because i have rewritten this like 3 times now 😭😭😭 dialogues are just not my specialty#like how to make them reveal such information without making them come out of the blue#writing style aside. let's talk about why Agni behaves this way#I will save the details on the what and how for the prologue. but basically Agni had been through hell that he couldn't escape alone#Rak Hatz and Isu saved him (or attempted to). and Agni owed them for saving his life. thus the strong attachment that Khun doesn't have#also let me mention that Agni had trouble differentiating between hallucination and reality after the incident. So he was kind of in denial#maybe Agni had come to a conclusion that they might be dead months after that. but he was too afraid to admit it to Grace#because he thought it was partly his fault for being incompetent. and Grace would hate him for letting their friends die#not wanting to risk being left by Grace. he just put himself (and inevitably Grace too) in the illusion of truth#that there's still a chance their friends are still alive because they have no proof of their deaths#so when Agni was offered to go back to the past. he agreed to it. Already expecting that Rak Hatz Isu aren't the same ones that he looks fo#but it was as good as he could get to redeem himself. Plus they get to meet everyone else who they couldn't save#Anyway. I'm taking hiatus until April. In return I will answer if you have any questions whether it is written in the tags or sent via ask#see ya folks <3 we'll get more brothers and team bonding when I return#tower of god#tog#two sides of the same coin fic#my fic#my art#bam#25th bam#jue viole grace#khun#khun aguero agnis#khunbam#shibisu#ship leesoo#rak wraithraiser#hatz
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dekupalace · 5 months
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hey isat heads! do you want nearly 11 hours of siffrin time looping vibes that are depressing, bittersweet, self-deprecating, AND heartbreaking all in one package? OF COURSE YOU DO!!! have fun!!!
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cerealforkart · 8 months
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i know requests aren't open, but just floating a lil idea down your way (especially after most recent DnDads episode)
the teens and Mr Peabody time travel adventures! (the ancient Peabody's Improbable History, from Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons)
or maybe just Link and Dood in that vein!
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Had to look this show up before deciding to go a little overboard with this one. Anyways. Here's a cel from your favourite cartoon that didn't exist when your parents were kids
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