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lomappreciationblog · 2 years

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Thoughts on LoM Anime Episode 8: Blackpearl - Leave Shiloh Alone >:(

Here's this week's thoughts on this week's episode! And a link to the episode as well~

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As usual, spoilers and discussion of Episode 8: Blackpearl, which features the events of the Cosmo quest of the Jumi arc!

There's a lot of things that happened in this episode, and as a result the pacing feels a bit…janky to me. It's not bad, but I think this episode could have done better.

Going off from the previous episode, Elazul and Shiloh go find Pearl, only to find she's already been kidnapped, with Sandra's note saying she's at Mekiv Caverns. Good on Shiloh to remember Sandra's penchant for disguises and explain it to Elazul, but the poor Jumi remains justifiably suspicious of Serafina. Speaking of our heroine, she doesn't appear in this episode, and there's no explanation yet as to where she is. Bummer, I was hoping to see her…and poor girl is probably not aware yet that Esmeralda has already been murdered.

Anyway, Shiloh and Elazul go to Mekiv. There's a brief battle scene where Elazul reveals he cannot use the Sword of Fate just yet - similar to how he mentions it in the game, it can only be used once.

You can actually get it for yourself if you choose Pearl to accompany you at Teardrop Crystal, and then talk to Elazul after you make your choice. If I remember right, Sword of Fate is an Ishe Platinum Sword with a 40 attack stat - and contrary to what Elazul says, you can equip it and use it as long as you wish, so a bit of gameplay and story segregation there.

After that battle scene, the two keep looking for Pearl and run into the Lord of Jewels, who's being kinda creepy sorting through rocks and muttering to himself lol. But he's just as polite as he is in the game and points our heroes to where Sandra and Pearl are. Elazul does show signs of familiarity with him, but he also states that he doesn't really know the Lord of Jewels. I wonder if they have met and Elazul just forgot, or if his Jumi instinct is reacting to the cores the Lord of Jewels has already swallowed.

Now onto the meat of today's episode, which is: Shiloh gets beaten up, again. Not kidding. Sandra takes out Elazul first by throwing a dagger at his core, and similar to the game, she demands that Pearl shed tears of life to heal him. Shiloh tries to fight her, but gets stabbed in the shoulder. Sandra is really cold though, and just to really drive Pearl into crying she also stabs Shiloh's knee.

Leave my cinnamon roll alone, Sandra! >:(

Despite that, Pearl still can't cry though, so Sandra asks Elazul which of them is she going to kill. Elazul offers himself up, but just as Sandra is about to pull his core, Blackpearl decided, yep, it's showtime! Her transformation here is different though, a black whirlwind surrounds Pearl and then she takes her place, while in the game rays of light come out along with illusions of flowers. I rather wished they kept that effect.

Oh, and I'm a bit sad Pearl didn't state the line where she asks to be given the power to defend Elazul.

The anime really plays up her vulnerability, but I'll wait until I see the next episodes to properly comment on it. In the game, Pearl is meek but she can still assert herself, though this happens more after Two Pearls, so maybe her character development in the anime is also waiting to happen.

What is accurate to the game is that Sandra is terrified of Blackpearl and backs away immediately - can't blame her, and Sandra fully knows just how good Blackpearl is at fighting! So instead, Sandra just goes Pokemon trainer and summons some Jewel Beasts with rocks she threw before getting away. Blackpearl takes them down easy, though. The Jewel Beasts do look nice, props to the visuals team for that, even though Blackpearl just smashes them in less than thirty seconds lol.

So far the Legend of Mana anime has been stunning visually, but I do notice that battle scenes aren't very smooth and can have a bit of awkward choreography sometimes, and since this episode had a few of them it got a bit more noticeable than usual. LoM as an anime definitely isn't one made for intense battle scenes, I'd pity the poor animators who have to deal with the already super detailed character designs and then animate them in fluid battle scenes. This doesn't make it a bad anime though! I hate the mentality that anime has to have great fight scenes to be called good.

So even though I think the battle scenes are a bit lackluster this episode, I'd say this was more of a pacing issue…because after all this happens, they still had to wrap up the rest of Cosmo's events. I think they should have put another episode about it rather than setting up the events of Two Pearls for the next one.

So Blackpearl appears and tells Elazul he's free of being a Jumi knight, and Elazul shows he does in fact know of Blackpearl's identity. Elazul is still injured though, and the Lord of Jewels comes in to help Shiloh and Elazul out rather than to let Elazul die then and there.

Poor Bud and Lisa come home only to find a bloodied Shiloh and a passed out Elazul on their hands. They're great kids though, and take care of Elazul. Shiloh recovers much faster this episode thankfully, I guess he got used to receiving some hard knocks!

While Elazul is recovering, Shiloh has a talk with Duelle, who reminds him to keep his focus on what he wants to do, and Shiloh re-affirms his wish to continue helping out the Jumi and stop their deaths. I do like Duelle and Shiloh's friendship, Duelle has got a really good mentor vibe to him that helps Shiloh out.

Shortly after this Elazul wakes up and tries to go, and Shiloh tries to stop him since Elazul is still suffering from the crack on his core. Elazul isn't having it though, and they get into a bit of a shouting match - boy, Nobunaga Shimazaki can do a good angry shouting voice! It's really noticeable since Shiloh usually sounds so kind and friendly.

Shiloh asks after Lady Blackpearl and how Elazul knew her, but he brushes it off as none of Shiloh's business…which is finally too much for our poor hero, who finally explodes and points out how could it be none of his business when all this time he had been trying to help them. Shiloh probably shouldn't have shouted, but he is right though.

This conversation is easier to understand with rewatching it a second time. Keep in mind that Shiloh was present when Elazul said he didn't know where Blackpearl was in the previous episode. Shiloh knows now that was a lie, and Elazul had deliberately kept the truth from both Pearl and Esmeralda. In restrospect, if Elazul had simply brought Pearl straight to Diana, they could have learned the truth of the Jumi's plight much sooner, and maybe even saved helped protect Esmeralda.

Despite everything, Elazul still cannot bring himself to reveal how he knows Blackpearl, so he tries to deflect Shiloh by accusing him of possibly being an enemy to Jumi, like Serafina. Okay, so Elazul is a bit delirious from being injured, and he still hasn't seen Sandra'a disguises in action so he is still suspicious of Serafina. But, uh, the only reason Elazul and Pearl are still alive is because Shiloh keeps helping them out, so that was a stupid blow to do.

Shiloh gets mad of course, but you can tell it's still because he's so concerned for Elazul, and his worries are just proven when our local prickly Jumi boy collapses, again.

Shiloh asks Bud and Lisa to take care of Elazul, which does make me laugh a bit. Sheesh, Shiloh, maybe don't dump a wounded stranger into your (often abandoned) kids' care? And then he goes to Trent's branches to think for a while. At the time of watching it feels a bit weird as why Shiloh did that, but writing this review now, Shiloh does need to cool down too and it may be more helpful to not be there when Elazul wakes up since they had just been fighting.

I suppose Elazul's words did remind Shiloh of something, since he says Serafina's name while contemplating. I guess it just sank in that he hadn't seen her since, and they still don't know what's up with her.

The next morning, Elazul is gone, because he's a very stubborn rock boy, and Bud and Lisa tell Shiloh so. It's cute that Bud asks if Shiloh hates Elazul for what happened, but Shiloh says that isn't the case, and he is in fact going to look for him. Before he goes, it's nice bit of continuity that he tells Bud and Lisa about Valerie going to come by.

Duelle tells Shiloh that Elazul was heading to Leires, and so goes there - just in time to catch Elazul from face planting yet again. Shiloh's been catching a lot of Jumi, heh. Elazul then reminds Shiloh this isn't his business, but Shiloh in turn reminds him that it is his choice to keep on helping out. And so it's the quest for Two Pearls in the next episode!

This episode has a loooot going on that makes better sense if you take into consideration previous episodes. It's still a bit janky to me compared to previous episodes, but rewatching it help makes better sense! So I recommend watching this episode twice. I hope we get to see Serafina soon, though. I wonder if she'll be in the next one?

#legend of mana anime

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saeta · 2 years

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RP Info: Saeta Lemiscus

Updated: 4/10/23

Data Center: Crystal

INTRODUCTION

Name: Saeta Lemiscus Pronunciation: Say-tah Leh-miss-cuss Gender: Female Age: Estimated around 25 to 30 Nameday: 7th Sun of the 1st Umbral Moon (February 7th) Race: Miqo’te, Keeper of the Moon Relationship status: Dating (multi-ship/verse) Open to platonic and romantic connections!

APPEARANCE

Height: 5 fulms, 4 ilms (5′4″) Body type: Slim, but well-fed with subtle muscle Hair color: Silvery gray Eye color: Yellow green Markings: Two white stripes on her temples, three white stripes on her cheeks, and a traditional tattoo in the shape of a teardrop in the center of her forehead. She also has the standard Keeper fangs. Accessories: Never seen without a pair of earrings, usually crystal or floral shaped Scent: Subtly sweet and woodsy, a combination of working with plants and outdoors. Oftentimes, there’s a hint of lavender.

PERSONAL

Languages: Common Eorzean Birthplace: Unknown, abandoned between the Black Shroud and Thanalan City state: Gridania Residence: Lavender Beds Religion: Not particularly religious, but respectful of those who are Patron deity: Menphina, the Lover

Profession: Former mercenary, currently botanist and herbalist + healer Hobbies: Going out gathering, studying for her profession, exploring the landscape, accepting a quest or two for extra gil, casually attending local events Other skills: As a former mercenary, she’s skilled with a lance. She was once part of the Lancers’ Guild in Gridania, but gave it up in favor of healing: both with homemade remedies and a dash of magic.

RELATIONSHIPS

Partner: Depends on the verse, but is only interested in serious, monogamous relationships Children: None Parents: Unknown (presumed dead) Other relatives: Unknown Pets: Shou (chocobo), Hazel (road sparrow) Acquaintances: Mother Miounne (NPC), Guildmaster Fufucha Fucha (NPC)

ADDITIONAL

Positive traits: Calm, confident, experienced, adaptable, patient, devoted Negative traits: Reserved, distrustful, stubborn, bossy, occasionally impulsive or single-minded Quirks: Enjoys lightly teasing people to test their limits, almost always drawn in by shiny trinkets like jewelry, has a bad habit of spending a bunch of gil when she thinks it’s a bargain, can be overly protective / possessive of her loved ones Phobias: Being completely helpless, losing her home / place to belong, losing the people she cares about

Drugs: Never Drinks: Occasional glass of wine or cocktail Diet: Balanced

Favorite places: Her home, Lavender Beds, Black Shroud, Gridania in general Favorite activities: Growing fruits and vegetables in her garden, reading fiction-based novels (romantic ones are a guilty pleasure), managing her stall at the market, going shopping for new clothes and furniture Favorite foods: Tea, coffee, bubble chocolate, cheesecake, baked goods like breads and cookies, omelet, meat and vegetable kabobs, fish Favorite colors: Previously red and black, currently purple and green

RP CONNECTIONS

Preferred themes: slice of life, adventure, angst, friendship, romance Willing to do mature themes (including NSFW) with 18+ writing partners. Please ask first!

SUPPORTING CHARACTER | Saeta was created to be a “NPC” in other people’s stories. She isn’t extraordinary, just an average citizen. She can act as a quest giver, goods supplier, local healer - or whatever else you may need.

BOTANIST | Saeta is a member of the Botanists’ Guild, and has a good rapport with its master, Fufucha. Recently, she has taken an interest in cross-breeding seeds. Any knowledge on the subject, or assistance acquiring samples, would be welcome.

HERBALIST | She’s relatively new to mixing herbal remedies, so she’s always experimenting. There’s a number of ways you could lend a hand: providing her with unfamiliar flora, tips from your own experiences, or even testing out a concoction.

HEALER | As a former adventurer, she’s no stranger to injuries. Maybe you’ve been attacked, and are now in need of her services. Whether it’s simply a scratch or far more dire, she would waste no time patching you up to the best of her abilities.

SHOPKEEPER | On certain days, you may find her at a stall in Gridania, where she sells her wares. She offers freshly picked plants, and handcrafted potions, including cosmetics. You could try to bargain, but be warned, she likes to haggle.

EXPLORER | She’s been to the main city states and their surrounding areas, but rarely ventures into more dangerous territories. Perhaps you could be her guide, or, if you would rather stick to safer terrain, just take a pleasant hike and enjoy the view.

STUDENT AND TEACHER | Do you have a skill you want to share, or are willing to pass along? She’s constantly curious, and eager to learn something new. It could be anything from playing an instrument to wielding a weapon.

OOC & CONTACT

My name, age, and time zone are listed in my blog description. Please refer to me OOC as Nat, not Saeta.

I’m available most days. I prioritize communication between writing partners, so I’ll let you know if I’m busy, and I hope you’ll do the same.

I believe in quality over quantity. Replies may vary in length, but I won’t leave you hanging with nothing to work with.

I’ve been roleplaying for 10+ years, but I’m new to this particular community.

I don’t actively follow the MSQ for FFXIV, so please be flexible with terms and lore. I’m just here to have fun!

While I’m mainly interested in acquaintance and friendship connections at the moment, I’d certainly consider others like rivals or enemies, old flames, distant family, etc.

I absolutely adore shipping. However, any romantic connection will require good, organic chemistry between our characters. Additionally, I do write smut, but only with chemistry and context.

Preferred writing platform: Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, and in-game (light sessions only).

Preferred contact method: Tumblr asks or messages, Twitter DMs, then Discord DMs for further discussion.

If you have any questions or are possibly interested, feel free to contact me, and I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can!

#ffxiv rp #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv lfrp #balmung rp #mateus rp

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octopus-defence-squad · 2 years

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inkpot gods by amazing devil and roseblings twins

(warning: touch of angst below cut, with implied character death and grieving, which is followed by an ambiguous but positive ending. precede with some caution)

"and i can hear him break when he doesnt understand. and i wish that i could take his hand, but where i'm going is for me and me alone" followed by the refrain of "if i dont make it back from where i've gone, just know i loved you all along" repeated like a prayer.

-----

repetition brings meaning, makes things significant, and with enough force of will and no small amount of luck and magic, if you repeat something enough you might tear a hole in the unyielding nature of the universe, wear it thin enough that something otherwise impossible might become true. if you are persistent and determined and stubborn enough, you might just get your miracle.

gem, her shoulders set with a determined look on her face and steel in her eyes, cloak filled with supplies and her staff clutched in her hand as she turns away from fwhip and faces the portal fwhip, resigned and obviously biting back words, tears carving paths through the gunpowder and redstone and grime on his face, sitting with a supply of healing items and looking like he would do anything to follow her

her mouth moving, soft words barely pressing past her lips as she rubs the folded and sealed paper tucked into her breast pocket, addressed to fwhip and labelled "to be opened only upon death of gemini tay, wizard of the crystal cliffs" in curling letters of violet ink she left another paper, similar but for the instructions, buried among his supplies. she couldn't say it aloud; couldnt force herself to admit that real possibility and couldnt bring herself to force him through it as well. just the same, a breeze carries her words back to him and he silently mouths them with her.

she doesnt look back.

the only thing that returns is her cloak, singed and torn into streamers and barely recognizable but they manage to rescue the paper from the pocket. with shaking hands and apologetic faces they offer it to the count. he crumples into his chair, face frozen and hands numb. tracing the soot along the edge and the faintly flickering amethyst enchantments, his fingers linger over his sister's handwriting. the ink is a purple one he got her for their birthday back when they were barely teenagers, when she had told him—hesitatingly, in stuttered whispers under the blankets of the fort they built together—that she wanted to learn magic and leave for the crystal cliffs. she had treasured that ink, only using it to sign his birthday cards and the certificate that solidified the alliance between their two empires. he turns it over, carefully removing the wax seal with the emblem of a dragon and an amethyst that he had first seen her sketching in their room, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth with concentration. he places it gently on his desk and begins to read.

teardrops stain the velvet of his vest, but he only cares not to let them touch the letter. the ink is too precious, he thinks, ignoring the half-full stoppered glass bottle sitting on a desk in an empty tower. the dragons’ cries have not ceased, but they do nothing to drown out the wail of the Universe itself reacting to the grief of one of It’s chosen which echoes in the hollow, ringing space where another should be standing nearby.

------

the remains of the cloak are buried beneath the wither rose field directly in sight of the count's bedroom window, a solitary figure whispering a broken promise above the petals. their voice breaks and they bow their head, hiding the red flash across their irises as three other things happen

somewhere else, in a place unknown to all but one living being, a body's heart begins to beat again;

the dragon on the wax seal still sitting abandoned on the count’s desk flaps its wings once, then twice, then a third time; and

a bolt of brilliant purple lightning flashes through the sky

-----------------

“The worst dreams I have ever had weren’t nightmares of being chased by monsters, nor were they the jump-scares that refused to let me sleep for more than an hour before startling me awake again, panicked and shaking.

The worst two dreams I ever saw rank in rising order. The lesser of the two was the one where I died and was forced to watch, impermanent and invisible, as my twin grieved me even as she grew into a life I would never get to see or share with her—trapped beyond a mortality I had lost. The worst was the one where I didn’t die but she did, and I spent years reaching for a hand or speaking to an ear that wasn’t there and realizing once more that I would never see her again, and that my triumphs and joys were mine only, ringing hollow without her to share them.

I know the nightmares are fiction, or at the very least that they are incredibly improbable. Those dreams don’t allow that comfort, small as it may be. Those dreams remind me of a certainty I want more than anything to forget, and it’s real.”

#post by oz #roseblings #geminitay #gemini tay #fwhip #empiressmp #empires smp #tw implied character death #angst with a happy ending #well at least a positively implied one?#tw death #ask to tag

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love-takes-work · 4 years

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Steven Universe Graphic Novel Crystal Clean (2020) - Outline & Review

The fifth original graphic novel for Steven Universe, Crystal Clean, is a new story about a mysterious Gem whose sludge-controlling powers make a mess of the beach. It’s new content–unlike some of the trade paperbacks that collect previously released individual issues of the comics. It is written by Talya Perper, with illustrations by S.M. Mara and a cover by Jamie Loughran.

This story seems like a pretty typical “chase the monster of the day and save Beach City” plot at first, but it’s got some delightfully complex interaction--including some complicated guilt issues left over from the Gem War, some interaction between Buck and his father, and some nuanced examination of Peridot’s feelings toward Lapis’s absence. (The action appears to take place after “Letters to Lars” but before the events of “Can’t Go Back.”) The whole concept of being willing to face a mess bigger than you are is examined sensitively and effectively in this graphic novel. You can look below for an examination of the plot and some noteworthy observations for fans, including lots of pics.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

The story:

It's time to clean the Temple in a belated summer spring cleaning, and everyone's excited--or at least determined--except, predictably, Amethyst. But they buckle down and deep clean the whole living space, including the fridge and the hard-to-clean areas.

Peridot is not being asked to help with the cleaning. She is still living in the bathroom, heartbroken over Lapis leaving and taking the barn with her. Steven is sympathetic. Amethyst, not so much. But when they finally finish and earn a beach day, they run out to the shore in their fun-in-the-sun outfits only to find that there's weird green sludge all over the sand.

And what's worse: the residents of Beach City assume the Gems did something to cause the mess and they're furious. Yellowtail even thinks he saw Steven skulking around messing things up, while Kofi thinks since the Gems live on the beach and would have seen who did it if it wasn't them, it's their problem and they need to fix it. To Amethyst's intense dismay, they find themselves cleaning the beach and agreeing to catch whoever made the mess, because it certainly wasn't them! After the second intense cleaning of the day, they're not in the mood for a beach day, and they figure they'll come back in the morning to get their day off.

But when they venture out again, the beach is back to being covered in green slime. Who's doing this?? As they search the beach for clues, Steven sees something shocking. It's indisputable that this weird slimy green figure is involved somehow. But what's not so clear is why it looks like a doppelganger of Steven!

The gross little figure is mean and fast. They give chase, upsetting some townspeople in the process, and oddly enough, when they try to fight the slime creature, it is able to re-mold its body and escape--much like the water clones Lapis Lazuli used against them during their first meeting.

They continue to pursue and the Gems are incapacitated by the slime creature throwing slime in their eyes. Steven is spared because he is able to block it with his shield. He continues to chase it as it runs toward the car wash, warning his dad about it as it turns into a slime bird and attacks. Greg reflexively sprays it with a hose. The monster is stopped immediately, but in all the leftover slime, Steven can't find a Gem.

With the townspeople still angry and the Gems still confused about what they're fighting, they decide to bring in some special knowledge: they consult Peridot. They want her expertise to fight the real culprit with water, but Peridot is easily reminded of Lapis when it comes to battling with water, and they're all unhappy having to ask her to help them when she's mourning.

But Peridot is very much needed at this time, and the other Gems are able to convince her to work on a water-based weapon. She agrees and takes a machine Greg uses at the car wash, saying she could develop it into a water blaster if she had a common Gem-based water converter called a Cloud Crystal. Luckily, the Gems have access to a place that uses them: the Sky Spire.

The Gems are able to extract a Cloud Crystal from under the water at the Sky Spire. Peridot demonstrates how it is able to pull water vapor out of the air to generate water. But they have to leave quickly because birds attack. (Not Gem birds. Just regular birds. Steven won't let the Gems hurt the birds, so they just retreat.) And then, only a few hours later, Peridot has created her new masterpiece: the Pressurized Hydro-Kinetic Crystalline Device, or P.H.K.C.D for short. Steven calls it the "Hydro-Pack" instead, and learns to use the features.

While testing out the hovering feature, Steven sees the slime monster again, so the Gems pursue. They attack it without destroying it completely, and as it begins to retreat, the Gems follow. They find it jumping through pipes and off roofs, culminating in an attack on Ronaldo. Some of the sludge gets in his mouth and he claims it tastes like avocado. Hmmm. They decide maybe this Gem monster is sending out Gemless doppelgangers because it's stuck in one central spot with access to this avocado-based goop. Time for some detective work.

The town council meets, which includes many of the business owners and local families. The Gems explain they're looking for sources on large amounts of avocado in the area, and Kiki brings up the Guacola incident from a while back--when Greg's old manager Marty came to town as a representative of the gross avocado soda Guacola and tried to use Sour Cream's DJ skills to promote the product. Discussion of Guacola suddenly makes Mr. Dewey very anxious. He begins spitting out weird explanations of how there are probably cans of the soda buried around and the Gems should search for them, and then he moves to end the meeting. Steven is suspicious, and then he receives a mysterious note.

Ordered to come alone to a manhole behind the Big Donut, Steven ignores orders and brings Peridot--who in his estimation, won't hold him back from dangerous investigations like the other Gems will. When they get to the meeting place, Peridot finds out what a sewer is. (She finds it, and the entire concept of the human digestive system, disgusting.) The originator of the note turns out to be Buck Dewey, who has information to share with Steven.

Turns out that after Dewey lost the election, the Dewey family was left struggling financially with only the income from the Big Donut, so he eventually went back to a previously rejected offer from Guacola to keep a storage silo on Beach City property. Now there's a Guacola silo on Dewey's personal property (and the Dewey family collects rent), but the silo is poorly constructed and is now leaking. Buck wasn't willing to blame his dad in front of everyone at the meeting, but he figured Steven would understand that and be able to take care of the situation. Before they can resolve much of anything, they're attacked again by avocado sludge and have to leave the meeting. Buck agrees to give them access to the silo the next day.

Steven has to have a little pep talk with Peridot before they move forward with the plan. She's very emotionally affected thinking this Gem might be like Lapis considering its powers, and she's afraid of how she'll react facing the Gem and worries she'll mess it up like she did with Lapis. But Steven needs her, so they go to the Dewey residence, where they meet Buck with an epic water gun. And lo and behold, in the center of the avocado pile is a teardrop-shaped Gem, and it's cracked.

Buck, Steven, and Peridot fight the muck that begins attacking, but it creates doppelgangers of them too and they're unable to keep up. Luckily, the other Crystal Gems arrive with reinforcements; Garnet and Pearl have water guns and Amethyst has water balloons! They take a pretty good stand (while Mr. Dewey comes out and flips out over the monsters), but the silo cracks and releases the biggest monster of all, so the Gems have no choice but to bring out their best weapons too.

Amethyst and Garnet fuse, and Sugilite is definitely a match for this slime monster. She's strong and not afraid to get messy. But as the battle continues, the creature emits a noise that has an emotional effect on Sugilite. She shouts out an apology, while Steven has no idea what this means and turns to Pearl for an explanation. Reluctantly, Pearl discloses that this Gem was once a Crystal Gem too and this noise is her distress signal. A signal she once emitted during a battle--and the other Gems could not rescue her.

Pearl regrets that they tried to run to this Gem's rescue but were unable to help in time, and because of their inability to help, the Gem had been shattered and buried somewhere so she couldn't be found. They never found her, though the images of the story imply that Rose's tears reached the buried Gem and partially healed it, though it remained cracked. Pearl calls it a mess that can't be cleaned up, but Steven is determined, and uses his hydro-pack to go after the Gem itself at the center of the mess.

In his protective bubble, Steven finds the Gem, apologizes for how long it took for them to find her, and heals the crack before immediately bubbling the Gem. The monsters dissolve, Sugilite unfuses, and Steven sends the Gem to the temple. Dewey and Buck agree they need to find a better way to make ends meet and need to get rid of the Guacola silo. And Steven confronts Pearl regarding this Gem's identity, at which point Garnet and Pearl admit to having suspected it was this mystery Gem because their history with her indicated the doppelganger attacks were in her skill set. They didn't admit it because they didn't feel comfortable including Steven in knowing that part of their history. Like Peridot, they weren't ready.

In the aftermath, Steven declares that he's ready for the hard stuff because Earth is worth it, and they leave Dewey with his mess to clean up. Then they have their well-deserved beach day, even getting an apology from Kofi about not helping. And this time, Peridot does join them. Inspired by the way their group has taken on a mess, she decides to clean the bathroom and both metaphorically and literally tackle the messes she's been dealing with.

Notable:

1. This graphic novel takes place sometime between "Letters to Lars" and "Can't Go Back" (yes, episodes 144 and 145) of the show. It's interesting how so many of the comic adaptations happen during this window--placeable in time because Dewey is working at the Donut shop and Nanefua is mayor, and Peridot is still living in the bathroom mooning over Lapis (whom no one has tracked down).

2. Garnet's "enlightenment guru" persona is invoked at the beginning of this book as she says the nonsensical line "realigning the chakras of the house will bring balance to the home." Chakras are generally energy centers in the body, not part of a building, though I've heard some people suggest rooms in the house can be represented by chakras. I don't know if that's a factual error or if it was intentionally gobbledegook to have Garnet saying goofy stuff.

3. Amethyst's INTENSE dislike of cleaning is so hilarious.

4. Dewey is still insisting on naming certain donuts after himself.

5. Garnet is said to canonically never ask questions in the show. In this comic she asks several questions. She blurts "What?!" when she's punched a slime creature and doesn't understand why it's not destroyed. And she says "Where?" when Steven says he saw the monster. And she asks Steven and Peridot why they thought they could handle this by themselves, and asks why they thought they wouldn't believe them, and asks what they're talking about. And after Sugilite unfused, Garnet asks a bunch of questions about what happened, how they escaped, and where Steven was.

6. The idea of the Cloud Crystal is really interesting. And the callback to the Sky Spire was nice to see.

7. Pearl points out that Peridot's device's abbreviation, P.H.K.C.D, sounds inappropriate when spoken out loud. Welp!

8. Ronaldo's cameo involves him singing the Koala Princess theme song in Japanese.

9. Peridot's dismay over the disgustingness of sewers was probably my favorite part.

10. At one point Peridot is consuming some kind of new Camp Pining Hearts material on her tablet while lying in the bathtub. When Steven interrupted her she partially blurted Lapis's name. :(

11. It's a really bold move to insert a piece of history into the Gem war in a side-story comic like this! I wish we had stories like this that were indisputably canon so we could learn more about the various Gem battles. It's still fun and weirdly touching to read about.

12. The Gem War flashbacks were drawn with the same character designs as those presented in "Your Mother and Mine." Looks really cool!

13. It's weird to me that Steven bubbled the Gem and didn't want to find out who she was. Maybe he figured she'd be dangerous and want revenge, but she shouldn't have been corrupted if she was underground and unformed during the time of the Diamond attack. (Lapis wasn't corrupted, just cracked.) It would've been nice to hear what she'd have to say, but at the same time, that would've been complicated and would have added a LOT to a story that's not really allowed to affect the main canon, which that probably would have on the same level Bismuth did.

14. I also think it's strange that Garnet and Pearl suggested they considered this Gem one of their team and felt such guilt over abandoning her, but they said they didn't know her name, indicating that they didn't believe she was a Lapis Lazuli even though she had similar powers and an identical Gem shape. I wonder if this was just an attempt to avoid being too presumptuous about the history or something since again these comic authors don't have access to the material for the show's writing team and aren't producing canon stories.

15. Can you really keep avocado-based soda in a silo like that? Gross. I'm not sure why a company would even want that honestly. A soda silo on private property?

16. Interesting that Sugilite recognized the distress call and felt guilt, but after unfusing, Amethyst still wasn't clear on what it was. It reminds me of how guilt felt by only one member of a Fusion manifested in "Mindful Education."

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

#steven universe #crystal clean #steven universe comics #steven universe crystal clean #myblog

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stardust-22 · 4 years

Text

WHAT IF THIS HAPPENED (AU) CH.6 Part 1/?

A/N: This was intense and stressful to write but I'm so satisfied on how this chapter turned out. I thank Sami @xxspacequeennxx for helping me with this bad boy! Sorry for the delay and I hope y'all will enjoy this :)

Tagging @totalfictionprincess @elizaglad @turtlesandalpacas @kanakalala458 @justconfusedperiod @aesthetically-feisty @apocalypticdetention @scriberated @bluecandy91 @calibansprincessx @perfect-ginger-maniac @xxspacequeennxx @calibanswhore

CAUSE SQUAD XX

THIS IS PART 1, WILL POST PART 2 AFTER THIS.

SUMMARY: Sabrina is crowned Queen of Hell. Then she reveals a shocking surprise to everyone.

CHAPTER 6: THE CORONATION

CHAPTER 1| CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6 PART 2|

SABRINA POV

“Lilith in your last act as regent, will you prepare our young queen?” I looked at Lucifer as he ordered Lilith.

She gave him a slight nod and obeyed. Lilith took me to my royal chambers to help me get ready for my coronation. My hair was curled and put into a chignon bun. I was dressed in a black bodysuit with a corset that had golden lining around the top of the bodice. Afterwards, my handmaidens put the petticoat over me.

Lilith walked back into the room and kneeled before me. She started giving me a speech.

“Every queen must be made battle-ready. Every girl must prepare for war.”

I held onto the handmaidens’ hands as Lilith helped me put on these black sparkling stilettos on my feet.

“Lilith, can you be a dear and fetch me something to calm down my nerves. And handmaidens, I might need some refreshments. Thank you.”

Lilith and the handmaidens bowed and left the room to get the stuff that I needed. Finally, I can text Cousin Ambrose that I won the final regalia. I’m still surprised that there’s even wifi here in hell.

Even though I wasn’t thinking of him, Caliban appeared in my room.

“Hello, my Queen. Isn’t it a lovely day for a coronation?” He said this as he was walking up to me.

“Caliban, why aren’t you hiding in your glamour. You could have been seen by someone!” I’m so frustrated with him.

“Relax Princess. I made sure to remain unseen and I had a feeling you were thinking about me.” He came up right in front of me and had a look in his eyes.

“Well you certainly came in a bad time. But my cousin Ambrose said to be prepared for the havoc that I’m going to cause for us soon.”

“The plan is after you get crowned then you will make the announcement about us and we go from there?” Caliban wanted to make sure that this was the plan.

“Yes. We could change your glamour to be one of my handmaidens since they’ll have to stand by me anyways. But change into it now before they come back here.”

“Before I do that, I wanted to give you something to calm down your nerves or so I’ve heard. In order to do that I need you to close your eyes since it’s a surprise.”

“Okay but no funny business.” I gave him a serious look.

“Princess, I will always ask for your consent and I think you would like this gift.” He told me cheekily.

I closed my eyes and felt something slipped onto my neck.

“Okay, open your eyes and tell me what you think of it.”

I opened my eyes and it was a shape of a teardrop that’s amethyst and copper wire wrapping around the amethyst like branches connected all over each other as one (wiring is shaped like a tree). I didn’t expect a necklace but everything looked cared for and homemade.

“Thank you..” As I was going to thank Caliban, we heard some scuffling by the door and I motioned my arm and mouthing to him to glamour himself. He changed into a handmaiden immediately, while in walked Lilith and my other two handmaidens.

“My Queen, I have something for you that you can take to calm your nerves. Here are essential oils with a pietersite, that’ll help soothe your nerves.”

The pietersite looked like a red brown color that’s slabbed with black on the crystal. According to Lilith, it’ll help with motivation and going forward in life. Including achieving goals, tasks like a powerful leader while keeping yourself grounded physically and spiritually to the earth’s energy. Healing properties said to help with blood flow.

After that, Lilith hands me the items while my handmaidens provided me with refreshments as I was parched from getting ready.

After that little detour, Lilith and co helped me finish getting ready for the coronation. After my gown was placed over my bodysuit & petticoat, I looked at the mirror to see what it looked like. The gown is a metal black colour with a sweetheart neckline outlined with pale lilac roses flowing down the bodice of the dress. That is also shown throughout the chiffon skirt and includes sheer long sleeves & golden rhinestones.

___________________________________________________________________

While Sabrina was preparing for her coronation, back at the Spellman household, Ambrose and Aunt Hilda had a conversation.

“We brought Dr. Cee’s cocoon back from the store. He’s downstairs ready for you to say goodbye.” Ambrose tells Aunt Hilda.

Aunt Hilda then goes downstairs on the verge of tears. The moment she goes downstairs and looks to the side, there appears Dr. Cee sitting upright like he had woken up. Aunt Hilda was holding his memorial picture frame and dropped it in shock when she saw him there. She rushes up to him saying, “Dr. Cee, I thought I murdered you.”

He responds with, “Almost but not quite nearly my love.” They’re laughing and joking around with each other.

“I must have been saving you to eat later.” Aunt Hilda jokes to him. They both hugged afterwards.

____________________________________________________________

Going back to Sabrina and Lilith who was helping her tighten her dress.

“Gird your loins. Let nothing touch you. Let no man hold power over you.”

____________________________________________________________

Back to Zelda and Mambo Marie, who were having a conversation at the academy’s office.

“What are you now if not the Church of Night?” Mambo Marie asked Zelda.

“The Order of Hecate. Worshipping the three in one.” Zelda responded back to her.

“Zelda…. There’s an even darker evil force on the horizon, I fear. A sense of Sa Ki Mal lingers in the air. We must harness your covers, maternal pouvoir for protection and prepare them for war.”

“Am I to take it that means you’ll be staying on?”

“Only if I am welcome, ma cherie.” Mambo and Zelda then kiss.

________________________________________________________

One of the handmaidens (Caliban in disguised tho) hands Lilith a pair of the earrings she chose for Sabrina.

“And when they cry out for mercy, the Morningstar must show them none.” After Lilith helped put the earrings on for me, I grabbed my necklace that Caliban gave to me and looked at Lilith questionably. Almost as saying that we’ll talk later.

Lilith starts to prepare for my makeup. I looked in the mirror and felt so in shock on how different I looked compared to my wedding attire that I had.

While Lilith applies my makeup, she says to me: “Your crown and throne awaits you. First Lady of Pandemonium, Maiden of Shadows. Behold the Queen.. Sabrina Morningstar.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Well, I’ll get started on something. Let’s… I mean, let’s have a lovely family dinner, favorite dishes only?” Hilda said.

“It won't be the same without Sabrina, will it?” Zelda piped in.

Ambrose looks up, “Actually we have a celebration to go to.. More of a ceremony than a celebration really.”

“And where is this celebration being held?” Aunt Zelda questioned him.

Before Ambrose was going to respond back to her, Minion suddenly appeared in front of them.

Minion announces, “Before anyone threatens to kill me. I was sent here by Sabrina to invite you all to her coronation. You are all needed to attend and we must go now, immediately.”

They all look in shock towards Minion.

“Come now, you are late. We must go to Dorian’s Gray Room. Everyone is waiting.”, Minion continues.

“And who is everybody?”, Hilda questions.

___________________________________________________________________

Once Minion had teleported the remaining Spellmans and the addition of Dr.Cee to Dorian’s Gray Room, all the invites were completed. Those who were invited include The Fright Club (plus Robin now), Prudence, Nick, Dorcas and Dorian.

After everyone was about to settle in the room, Minion had to interrupt them.

“No time for talking or any questions, we must hurry. The coronation is about to start. Everything will be answered in due time.”

Minion then teleports everyone in the room to the main floor of Pandemonium. Lucifer sees them but gives no attention as Sabrina walks through the golden doors with her handmaidens behind her.

The doors went wide open for me as I was going inside. Everyone around me started to kneel as reverent music played in the background. As I looked through the crowd, Caliban who unglamoured himself, snuck in and disguised himself with a mask on his face right next to the many elite demons. While walking through, one of the she-demons sniffed my coronation mantle after I passed by them. After all this, while I was gliding up the stairway towards Lucifer, Caliban was walking through the crowd with more confidence in his stature. He looks towards me and soon, but not now he will make his entrance.

Everyone was clapping in applause as I soon neared Lilith and Lucifer at the top of the stairway.

Lucifer held out his hand towards me which I accepted. He guided me to the front of the throne.

As the fire roared behind me, I held out my hands as a show of strength.

_____________________________________________________________

“It is time to crown the new Queen of Hell”, Lucifer announced to everyone in the audience. The demons responded back with a roar to his announcement.

“The First Lady of Pandemonium, Maiden of Shadows. Behold the Queen.. Sabrina Morningstar. Give her the respect she has won and deserved through her trials” Lilith commanded everyone as she placed the royal crown on my head.

As the audience settled down in the crowd, I decided to give a surprise announcement.

“As Queen, I have a very special declaration, that the Infernal Kings might consider as a gift.

You see, I did not win the trials alone. I had helped from a very close companion that some of you might consider an outsider to the Morningstars. They call this place home but to some, they have no place in the kingdom. Longest seen as my enemy, can any of you guess whom this may be? My companion, my friend and now my husband. I’d like to introduce you all to your King, my husband King Caliban.”

Stage right from behind Lucifer, was Caliban who was sliding the mask off his face. Caliban walked past Lucifer and went to stand beside me.

Everyone’s reactions in the crowd were shocked except for Ambrose who was happy for his cousin. Everyone’s reactions were mixed.While Aunt Hilda was giddy to have a nephew in law, Aunt Zelda was still processing that I was married. Dr. Cee looked frightened to be here & was in disbelief. The Fright Club was even worse for wear. Harvey was pissed off, Roz felt betrayed I didn’t say anything to her, Theo was indifferent and Robin looked surreal that he was in hell (lol).

Prudence had a proud look on her face (approval #3 behind Ambrose & Aunt Hilda), Dorcas looked jealous, Nick was seething with anger and jealousy and Dorian looked happy to be in the drama.

Lilith looked appalled and processed everything going on as Lucifer could not believe the betrayal of his own daughter after he so warned her.

The Infernal Kings were in glee happily due to the revelation that Caliban was King Consort to the throne and married to me.

Caliban took my left hand and then murmured a spell to unglamoured our wedding rings.

The room stayed silent for the next couple minutes still reeling in shock until joy spread around the demons. They all collectively cheer but also sighed in relief that Lucifer has no claim to the throne because of me.

While Caliban and I were sharing a moment, relieved that we were no longer hiding our marriage from anyone, Lucifer began to usher out everyone in the room wanting to have a private conversation with me perhaps. The Infernal Kings look jeered at this, saying there is more work to be done in Hell now since we became their leaders. But they all leave for a few anyways, to give us time to sit.

I looked towards my family and plus, “Please follow Lilith to our drawing room while the Dark Lord along with myself and Caliban discussed a few things. We’ll be there no sooner than half past 4 at the latest.”

Everyone in my circle was about to give an argument, especially Nick who was reething mad but decided to go along with my request. All alone left in the room now, was Lucifer, Caliban and myself.

Lucifer looked at me with a mean glare and said, “Sabrina why did you not stick with the plan that we had?”

“Because I knew you had some other trick up your sleeve and please Father. You also kept a hidden secret from me! You and Lilith are pregnant and are having a son. You think I wouldn’t have heard about that didn’t you?” I gave him a menacing stare and Cal squeezed my hand in comfort and reassurance.

“Yes but in my perspective, I’ve already told you beforehand. I am crossed with you for hiding this marriage and the fact that you’re married to this Prince of Clay at all.” Lucifer retaliated back at me.

Caliban then stands right in front of me as he faced Lucifer.

“You might be Sabrina’s father but I’m King of Hell now. I won’t let you argue and degrade my beloved’s choices, even to the person to whom she has chosen to marry. Now I suggest to you to leave and get out before I unleashed all of Hell’s power upon you.” Caliban said to Lucifer as he defended myself on my behalf.

I felt a stirring inside me that began to bloom inside my heart. Caliban’s argument to my Father, gave me a different side of him. Instead of his usual, laid back and cheeky demeanor; he looked centered, a leader and a protector. He is also my husband and other half for eternity. After we deal with my Father, we can finally continue on where we left off from our earlier conversation.

Lucifer looked back at me and left the room seething in silence, already beginning his plans to try and take back the throne. After Lucifer left, me and Caliban were finally alone together with each other.

“We have made quite an impression on everyone, haven’t we Princess?” Caliban gave me a smouldering stare as we walked back near the right side of the stairway.

“There were some reactions I thought they would be happy for me except they weren’t unfortunately.” I gave a huge sigh and looked away from his gaze.

Caliban placed his left hand on the left side of my face as I closed my eyes. Whenever I feel his touch, I melt like a puddle. His presence is soothing but I can’t fall back to my old habits.

After I opened my eyes, Caliban had a soft gaze on his face while he looked at me in awe.

“I’m going to stay here by your side and make sure that you aren’t alone by yourself. We had a hunch that some of their reactions weren’t positive. But I am your husband and you don’t have to face everyone else alone head on. And look on the bright side, we have a couple people cheering for us.” He gave me his usual cheeky smirk and grabbed my hand in reassurance.

“You think I would be used to everyone’s reactions whenever I don’t think through my plans. But at least this time, out of all the decisions I’ve made, I’m glad that I have you by my side now and we’ll be able to get through this together.”

After I told Caliban this, I went up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. He looked surprised but had a hint of blush on his cheeks since I initiated the kiss first. I stepped back afterwards but I forgot we were still holding hands. He then leaned down sweetly, pressing his lips onto my forehead.

I felt the redness on my cheeks go down to my neck. Caliban smiled at me and chuckled.

“That was a pleasant kiss Princess and something I’d like to savor even more. And I know you wanted to continue our earlier conversation before the final regalia but I fear that it must still have to wait. But do not worry, we will be able to continue much more intimately soon.”

I was still in a daze from what happened between us that I completely forgot about the elephant in the other room. That everyone was waiting for us in the drawing room with Lilith.

“Thanks for reminding me Cal. I completely, almost had forgotten about the others waiting in the drawing room. Hopefully, this won’t turn into a screaming match but who knows with them.

And I can’t wait for our conversation later.”

I gave him a cheeky smile as I led us out of the main throne room. We began to walk towards the drawing room that I told Lilith to bring everyone to.

“Anytime, my Princess. I think speaking with them won’t turn out in that direction. But, if it does happen, I’m here by your side and will stand my ground. I’m also looking forward to our conversation later among other things.” Caliban chuckled at me as he saw my mind went to the gutter. It’s definitely not going that way but this clay boy here likes to tease me mercifully. Stupid, cheeky, hot jerk.

“Before this conversation turns into something else. Let’s take care of this situation first and then have our talk since we’re now in front of the drawing room.”

“As you wish, my wife.” Caliban replied back to me, as he let his hand linger besides mine while I opened the door to the drawing room.

#calbrina #caliban x sabrina #sabrina x caliban #prince caliban #caos #caos part 3 #calbrina fics #what if this happened au #sabrina spellman #prince cal #caliban #sabrina #stardust-22 #stardust 22

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chelledoggo · 4 years

Text

[Fanfic] Forgiveness [101 Dalmatian Street]

genre: angst, oneshot with epilouge

age rating: all ages

content warning: family arguments/tensions

summary:

After a feud tears a rift between the two brothers, Deepak finds it nearly impossible to forgive Dylan. What will it take to start repairing the broken bridge between them?

“C'mon, Deepak. It's been almost a week, now. How long are you gonna keep holding this grudge for?”

“At this rate? Probably the rest of my life. Maybe even a little bit into my next life.”

Dolly stood near Deepak's hanging pod bed in the pups' bedroom. The small yogi pup lay curled up inside, with his face buried in the cushioning.

“Look,” Dolly sighed in frustration. “I get that Dylan said a lot of awful stuff to you back there. But he didn't mean any of it. He was having a bad day and just said some stuff out of anger.”

“That's not an excuse,” Deepak returned in a stern voice. “I have bad days, too. Everyone does. It doesn't make it okay to say those kinds of things. He could've just walked away and meditated for a bit if he was that angry. But, no. He had to run his mouth. Dylan's gone way too far this time. I can't forgive him.”

“So, that's it?” Dolly asked. “Because of one little spat, you're gonna stop loving your brother?”

“Stop...loving?” Deepak turned around and faced Dolly, showing her his red, bloodshot eyes and his tear-soaked face. “Do you think I would still be crying this much if I didn't love Dylan anymore?”

“Well, then, why don't you just forgive him, then?” Dolly responded.

“I can't forgive someone who's not sorry,” Deepak replied as he once again curled into a depressed little ball.

“What are you talking about?” Dolly queried. “Dylan's been trying to make it up to you all week! He's been buying you expensive crystals, your favorite organic dog treats, all those Guru Miaow mantra CDs...And you keep turning them down!”

“Ughh,” Deepak groaned in exasperation. “You just don't get it, do you? You're just like Dylan.”

“Excuse me?” Dolly responded, a bit offended, but still trying to be sympathetic to Deepak.

“All those gifts and favors?” Deepak began. “Those aren't apologies. He hasn't once asked me about how what he said made me feel. He hasn't asked me if I'm doing okay or tried to hear me out. He thinks he can just bribe me into just forgetting all of it and make everything all better again. He doesn't care about me. He's just trying to save face.”

“Of course Dylan cares about you,” Dolly insisted. “I mean, remember when he went through Constantin's crazy cat tests to bring you home? Do you think he'd go through all that if he didn't care?”

“Come on, now,” Deepak scoffed. “You and I both know he only did that because everything was falling apart here without me. Plus, you basically had to talk him into it.”

“How could you even say something like that?” Dolly cried. “He did all that for you!”

“Be honest, Dolly. Do you think he would've bothered trying to bring me back if everything had been fine here without me?” Deepak stared Dolly down with an interrogating expression.

“Of course he would, silly!” Dolly's eyes welled up with tears.

“Yeah, maybe once Mum and Dad realized I was gone and guilted him into bringing me home, right?”

Dolly began to open her mouth to speak, but then held her tongue. Deepak was...kind of right.

“Your silence says it all, sister.” Deepak glared and turned away once again. “Everything Dylan supposedly 'does for us?' He only does it to save his own hide or feed his own ego. He doesn't care about me. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. He's just a selfish pup at the end of the day.”

Dolly didn't even try to speak. She just stared down bleakly at the floor.

“He doesn't feel the least bit bad about hurting me,” Deepak continued. “He's only trying to 'make it up to me' because he's upset that one of his 'loyal followers' stopped respecting him. It's all about him as usual, and he's done nothing as of yet to convince me otherwise. He's just pressuring me into accepting an apology that I'm not ready to accept. I don't have any reason to think he's sincere.”

“He's...he's really trying...” Dolly whimpered. “He feels really bad...”

“Oh, Dylan feels bad, huh?” Deepak responded sarcastically. “Let me ask you something. Has Dylan ever once voiced any concern for my feelings? Has he said 'I hope Deepak is okay,” or “I shouldn't have said those awful things to Deepak?' Or has he just been wallowing in his own self-pity and trying to haphazardly patch things up without any real thought so life can go back to normal?”

Dolly's head dipped down as far as it could go, as her teardrops pattered against the floor.

“...Is there really nothing I can do to change your mind?” Dolly asked in a weak, wavery voice.

Deepak was silent.

“...Deepak, come on, I--”

“Dolly,” Deepak interrupted. “I'm not mad at you right now, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Dolly sighed in defeat, and walked slowly out of the room.

In the hallway by the door to the bedroom, Dylan was waiting. He lay close to the ground, hiding his face in his paws.

Dolly looked down sympathetically at him.

“...I take it you heard everything?” She asked nervously.

Dylan's only reply was a sad, muffled “Mhm...”

“I'm sorry bro,” Dolly said as she gently stroked her brother's back with her paw. “I tried. I really did.”

Dylan said nothing.

“...Hey, come on, now,” Dolly said with an attempt at a reassuring smile. “I'm...sure Deepak'll get over it eventually.”

Dylan looked up at Dolly with wide, reddend, tear-filed eyes.

He didn't seem to have too much faith in Dolly's sentiment.

Neither did Dolly, honestly.

“...I'll be outside if you need me, okay?” Dolly said quietly as she began to head out. “Just...try to get your mind off it for now.”

Get my mind off it? Dylan thought. How can I? I just listened to one of my siblings go off for five minutes about what a horrible dog I am, and...And he's right.

Dylan sat and contemplated all the things he'd done to try to get back in Deepak's good graces. All the gifts, all the favors. But was he really doing it to help Deepak feel better? Or was it to make himself feel like he'd properly absolved himself of his own wrongdoings? Was he just so focused on looking like a good older brother in Deepak's eyes again that he didn't actually stop to think about what Deepak really wanted from him?

Dylan took in a deep breath and stood up. He poked his head into the bedroom, and saw Deepak still curled up inside his pod, facing away from the world.

“D-Deepak?” Dylan addressed his brother anxiously.

The only response was a loud, disgruntled groan from Deepak, muffled by the bedding inside the pod.

Dylan continued on anyway.

“I...I heard you talking to Dolly, and...you were right. There was absolutely no excuse for me to say the things I said to you. You're my brother. No, not just my brother. You're a canine being who deserves all the respect in the world. No one deserves to be talked to in that way, much less a kind, peaceful, loving pup like you. And...I can't force you to forgive me. Trying to butter you up for forgiveness isn't really showing that I care. I need to stop wallowing in my own guilt and respect you and your feelings.”

Silence.

“Deepak,” Dylan continued with a sigh. “I totally understand if you want to stay mad at me. I understand if you don't want to forgive me. You shouldn't have to just because we're family or anything. Honestly, I don't deserve it. I wasn't treating you the way family should treat each other. I won't press you for forgiveness anymore. You should only forgive me when and if you feel ready to, and not a moment before. I'll leave you alone now.”

Having said all he could really say, Dylan walked away slowly down the hall.

“...Dylan.”

The elder pup turned around to see Deepak standing near the doorway behind him.

The zen pup wore a stoic expression and avoided eye contact with his older brother.

“Dylan, I...” Deepak began. “I...appreciate that you said that. I...honestly wasn't expecting you to come around like that.”

Dylan gazed at Deepak with teary eyes, hardly believing what he just heard.

Deepak was silent for a moment, then spoke up again.

“Look, I'm...I'm really glad to hear you say that. I won't lie, I'm still hurt, and I'm probably going to hurt for a while. If you really mean everything you just said, and you want to rebuild our brotherly bond...just...give me some time, okay? No more apologies. No more favors. No more gifts. Just give me some space and let me heal for a while, and then let things between us patch up naturally. Is that understood?”

Dylan nodded, as he sniffed and smiled sincerely. “Of course, Deepak.”

“Good.” Deepak responded as he walked away.

“...L...Love you, bro,” Dylan called out weakly.

“...Mhm,” Deepak mumbled, not looking back.

Dylan sighed. He was anxious about how things would work out from here on, but he would try to remain hopeful. Deepak seemed like he was willing to mend things in due time, so all Dylan could do was have faith in his little brother and leave things be.

– – – –

Epilogue

That night, Dylan lay fast asleep on his side of the living room couch.

He was suddenly awoken by the sensation of something small and warm sliding up to him.

He looked over to see that Deepak had snuggled up to him and was curled up to go back to sleep.

“Deepak?” Dylan whispered. “What's wr-”

“I was just a little lonely,” Deepak responded flatly. “That's all.”

“Lonely?” Dylan asked. “In a room with 96 sibl--”

“Just...go back to sleep, okay?” Deepak interrupted grouchily, not looking up at his brother.

“O-okay,” Dylan replied. “G'night, Deepak.”

“Good night,” Deepak muttered. “...Love you.”

Dylan smiled. “L-love you t--”

“Sleep,” Deepak cut him off once again.

“Right,” Dylan acquiesced.

The elder pup smiled as he lay his head back down. It might be a long road to fully repairing the brotherly bond between him and Deepak, but this seemed to be a good start.

As sleep reclaimed its hold on the exhausted Dylan and his eyes slowly slid shut, he thought that, just for a moment, he saw Deepak smiling as well.

#101 dalmatian street #dylan dalmatian #deepak dalmatian #dolly dalmatian #fanfiction #it has a happyish ending don't worry

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 5 years

Text

A love that never leaves (11)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Descriptions of depression. Some pretty heavy sads.

A/N: Flashback time. Grief can be all consuming and overwhelming. This time, we follow her while she tries to learn how to live again, before a night in 1946 changes everything.

And again...I am sorry.

Links don’t work, so if you want to access the full ALTNL Masterlist, just click the MASTERLIST header on my blog.

Previously...

In her hand, is a ripped piece of faded blue cloth, with a familiar gray patch sewn into it; smudgy rust-red splotches color the edges like fingerprints.

Wings. Gray wings. Nostalgically familiar, because back in the war, each of the Howling Commandos wore one on their left sleeve, a mirror image tribute to the one painted on Steve’s helmet.

Including Bucky. Who wore one on the left sleeve of his coat.

The left sleeve of his blue coat.

Now, he stares uncomprehendingly at the piece of cloth. “What - “ he starts, but his voice fades. Small shivers are running through her body as she watches him, her face filled with dread. Taking a shaky breath, she whispers.

“There was one other time we met.”

*****

February 1945

The telegram informing her of Bucky’s death, written in Steve Rogers’ messy, cursive scrawl, sits on her kitchen table for a week. Across the creamy white paper are crinkled watermarks and trickles of black ink, where the paper swallowed her teardrops and bled out the sorrow of Steve’s words. One night, in a fit of anger, she tears it to shreds and feeds each piece to the hungry flames licking up the stone wall of her fireplace. There is immediate relief at the words disappearing, but even without their physical presence, the grief always returns.

March 1945

The plush wool feels soft in her hands. A week after his last visit, she saw the bundle in a storefront and bartered two of her old dresses for it; the color was a simple heather gray, but she knew it would look perfect against the deep blue of his coat. Every evening, she would knit until her fingers ached, but in a few weeks, she had a thick wool scarf, one of her old hair ribbons tied around it for a bow. She thought she would keep it as his birthday gift. Now, on what would have been Bucky’s 28th birthday, she wraps it around her neck and crawls into bed. Sleep doesn’t come, but every memory of him arrives like a fresh bullet, punched clean through her chest.

May 1945

Over! The war is over! Relieved cries reverberate through the town when VE Day arrives, children running down streets screaming with excitement, mothers and widows weeping joyously in the streets. Healing will take decades, but with those words, the world begins to plan for what comes next. Life is breathed back into the village and in the crowded town square, she lifts her face to the sunshine and closes her eyes. Fingers the chain around her neck holding the St. Michael medal Bucky gave her for their engagement, and wonders if she will ever be warm again.

July 1945

Wildflowers grow in riotous bursts of yellow and red and purple, filling the space behind her chicken coop with color. Laying amid the blooms, she sits in the baking summer sun, tracing her fingers over the colorful images on the postcards Bucky gave her. She thinks about traveling. About visiting those places, seeing them with new eyes, free from war. When she looks at the Brooklyn postcard, she wonders about visiting his family, but then she sees the crooked hearts he drew on the back, and she knows it would be too much. She puts the cards away.

September 1945

Leaves begin to fall, carpeting the grassy bank near the stream. Going through the motions, she dumps clothes from her basket, dunking them in the gurgling water, scrubbing them clean under crystal clear moonlight. Humming under her breath, she sings to pass the time, but the only words she can find are the ones she sang the first night Bucky found her by the creek and walked her home. We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when. It hurts too much, so she just stops singing.

October 1945

Soldiers have been returning for weeks. Gaunt and haunted, new men arrive every few days, and do their best to pick up the threads of their old lives. One Saturday morning, she walks through the stalls of the market, examining produce and talking with the vendors. A young soldier steps aside to let her pass, quickly pulling off his hat and smiling. Offering a quiet hello in response, she finishes her shopping and leaves; the soldier jogs after her and nervously asks, could he perhaps walk her home? The earnest look in his eyes is so familiar, it makes her sick. She gently tells him no.

December 1945

Taking a sharp kitchen knife, she goes into the trees and cuts an armful of pine boughs. She spreads them through her house, taking deep breaths of the sharp, piney scent. In the white vase on her table, she tucks them carefully in place and adds a small sprig of holly, the red berries shining brightly. Curled in the armchair beside her fire, she drinks tea and listens to the staticky crackle of Christmas hymns on her new radio. It’s a daily battle, but it happens. Life really does go on.

February 1946

Coming home late one evening, she unlocks her back door and hangs her coat in the hallway. Rubbing chilly hands together, she walks into her kitchen and turns on the light. She skids to a stop. Filling the small space, are two hulking men dressed in black. One steps forward and quickly grabs her arms, while the other plays with a length of rope and smiles at her. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Someone wants a word.”

There’s a cursory struggle, but she doesn’t fight hard. She thinks to herself, if they kill her, maybe she’ll see Bucky on the other side.

That thought makes her smile, before the world goes dark.

*****

For the second time in her life, she awakens in a cold cell. Stretching her aching limps, she knows immediately this most certainly isn’t heaven.

Hell has a very specific look to it. One she knows far too intimately by now.

The small cell is clean, containing a lumpy bed and a worn blanket; in the corner is a pitcher of water and a bucket, and high on the wall is a small window letting in slivers of light. Her hands are bound in front of her, rough pieces of rope looped so tight around her wrists, the skin has rubbed itself raw. Blood soaks into the bristly rope fibers, staining it with streaks of black.

Where is she this time?

Leaning back against the wall, she blows out a long breath and there’s a strange satisfaction in her realization.

She just doesn’t care.

*****

Hours or maybe days later, her door creaks open. Outlined in the doorframe, is a tall Hydra guard dressed all in black, a mask over his face, a pair of reflective goggles covering his eyes. When he sees her, the gun in his hands trembles the slightest bit, before it steadies once more.

So, she thinks. Here it comes.

Motioning with the gun, the guard indicates she should stand, but she mutinously stays on the bed. If she has to go, she will be defiant to the end.

Stepping forward, he hesitates briefly, before grasping the rope and jerking her to her feet. Balancing his gun at the back of her neck, he pushes her forward.

Down a long hall they go, moving through a set of wooden doors. With a mute resistance, she refuses to walk, forcing him to physically drag her instead. Finally, he simply picks her up and throws her over his shoulder, stalking down the hallway with a series of breathless grunts.

She kicks him the entire way.

When he arrives at a heavy oak door, he bangs three times and throws it open.

The room is surprising. This is no torture chamber, filled with metal tables and metal chairs and the metallic taste of electricity on her tongue. It is warm and cozy, a roaring fireplace on one wall, armchairs strewn casually around, tall shelves lined with books.

In the middle of the room, stands Colonel Richter, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Please, come in,” he says cordially, laughter in his voice. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The guard dumps her in a sprawling heap and departs. In the flickering firelight, she struggles awkwardly to her feet and readies for battle.

“You again. What do you want? You know I won’t help you,” she snaps, her eyes roaming around the room, searching for threats.

Richter looks amused. Sipping his whiskey, he comes slowly closer until he is only inches from her face.

“First things first. Before, when you stole away in the dead of night - that was a bit rude, don’t you think?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

The quick crack of his backhand sends her stumbling sideways. The heavy ring he wears rips open a fat gash on her cheek and she instantly feels blood begin to ooze.

“Such language for a lady. Did you learn that from him? Let’s try again, shall we? I have a story for you and I’d like you to listen,” he says. “A few months ago, we were working on him and in the middle of one of his delirious rants, I hear something interesting. Can you guess?”

Glaring at him, she remains silent.

“No guesses?” he grins, raising his eyebrows. “Alright then. Through all the screaming and crying, I hear him say your god damn name. Imagine my surprise.”

The first prickles of confused fear skate up her back. “What the hell are you talking about?” she spits out.

“It took some digging, but we managed to trace the path he and that wretched group of assholes from his unit made the last couple years of the war. I sent a few search parties out, and low and behold - here you are.”

Bucky told her once, how he and Captain Rogers parachuted from an airplane. She remembers him laughing about the free-fall, how it made his stomach swoop in a million directions. That feeling of free-falling sweeps over her now, turning her blood to ice.

“What do you mean? Who?”

Richter smiles widely, his eyes gleaming. Grabbing the bloody ropes around her wrists, he yanks her forward and pushes her into the shadowy corner of the room.

“Wait here. I have a surprise for you.”

Outside the door, she hears voices arguing. The scuffle of feet and the sharp bite of an angry voice. Suddenly, the door swings open and four guards enter, dragging a fifth man.

From the dark shadows, she muffles a scream.

Bucky looks exhausted. Dressed in a long-sleeved green shirt and ragged brown pants, he’s thinner than the last time she saw him. Rings of black circle his eyes, the vibrant blue now dull and listless. All his beautiful dark hair has been buzzed short and she can see bloody sores scabbing over along his temples. The left sleeve of his wool shirt is empty, pinned up at his shoulder and his right arm is tucked behind him, a leather strap looped around his wrist and stretched across his chest, keeping his good arm immobile.

“You didn’t tell me it was a party,” he rasps mockingly. “I would’ve put on my fancy clothes.”

One of the guards grabs a fistful of his shirt and drags him closer. “Jesus Christ, I am so fucking sick of your fucking mouth,” he sneers and Bucky shoots him a cocky grin.

“Sweetheart, you’re adorable when you’re mad,” he stage-whispers. In the blink of an eye, the guard draws back his arm and smashes his fist into Bucky’s face. Dropping to his knees, Bucky’s mocking laugh turns into a rattling cough that comes up with a spray of blood and he spits strings of red on the floor. “Like being kissed by your mom,” he says weakly.

Swearing ferociously, the guard moves to kick him, but Richter holds up his hand.

“For god’s sake, every fucking time. You know he does this, why do you let him get to you?”

The guard is visibly furious, but he says nothing. Instead, he grabs Bucky by the back of his shirt, hauling him roughly to his feet. Bucky sways precariously, before he finds his balance. Taking several deep breaths, he fixes his mouth back into that mocking smirk and lifts his chin.

“Evening boys. What the fuck can I do for you today?”

Richter gives him a congenial smile. “We have a visitor tonight. I thought perhaps you’d like to meet her.”

Bucky barks out a hollow laugh. “I sincerely fuckin’ doubt that.”

Richter’s smile grows impossibly larger. “Well, let’s see, shall we?”

Pulling her from the shadows, he throws her forward and she stumbles into the light.

Here’s the thing.

Bucky Barnes is so weak, he can barely stay on his feet. For the last five days, he’s eaten nothing more than a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water. When he walks, he greatly favors his right side, still unbalanced by the loss of his left arm even a year later, and when he speaks, his voice has a perpetually guttural sound, his vocal cords shredded from months of screaming. Sprinkled across his shaved head, are a mess of pink scars where the dull razor blades they used bit cruelly into his scalp.

He looks exactly as one would expect. A prisoner of war.

For weeks, he’s been on the verge of collapse, but the moment he sees her, none of that matters.

Horrified disbelief fills his face and his eyes flick from the tears on her face, to the trickle of blood down her cheek, to the blood-soaked ropes around her wrists.

With a feral howl, he lunges toward her.

Throwing off the shocked guards at his side, he head-butts the man in front of him, sending him flying back. With a well-aimed kick, he knocks the legs from under the fourth guard and the man falls hard, before Bucky levels a savage kick to his head.

Richter laughs delightedly as he watches the show, until Bucky rushes for him. Lifting his gun, he sets it casually against her temple and cocks it. At the click of the hammer, Bucky skids to a stop, his mouth still twisted in a vicious snarl. Sweat dripping down his face, blood dripping from his busted lip, his chest heaves furiously.

“You god damn motherfucking cocksucking piece of shit, you let her go. Let her fuckin’ go, or I’ll fuckin’ gut you.”

“I thought so,” Richter says smugly. “So, our Soldier has something to fight for. How utterly inconvenient.”

“You’re god damn straight I fuckin’ do,” Bucky hisses, staggering under the rush of adrenaline. “Hurt her and I swear to god, I swear to fuckin’ god, I will slit your fuckin’ throat.”

With a dramatic sigh, Richter keeps his eyes on Bucky and bends down to speak in her ear.

“Apparently this one’s special, fights harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. Every time we wipe him, every memory comes back in a couple days. I don’t know what Zola did to him, but his brain fixes it too fast. Basically, he just won't fucking stay down.”

“Fuck no I won’t,” Bucky interrupts.

“See what I mean? You know what happened last time,” Richter says softly, his breath hot in her ear. “I don’t care if he is Zola’s little pet, he’s a wild fucking animal and I’m not above putting him down. So here we are. You fix him or I kill him. Your choice.”

“What the fuck is he talking about,” Bucky asks, looking directly at her now. “What - darlin, what the hell does he mean?”

Looking into his eyes, she thinks about that lovely blue. For the rest of her life, she knows she will see it everywhere. In everything.

Behind him, the guard he head-butted lumbers to his feet and manages to get his forearm locked around Bucky’s neck.

Richter stands behind her, waiting. Against her skin, he presses a light kiss and she shudders at the hideous feel.

“Come now. You love him, don’t you? Do the right thing.”

Clasped in a tight chokehold, she can see Bucky’s face turning red as he splutters for breath.

“No,” she chokes out. “I won’t. I won’t.”

Cruel fingers dig into the back of her neck and he hisses in her ear. “If you say no, I will put him in that chair and fry his fucking brain every single day for the rest of his life and I will make you watch. Even if he heals fast, he still screams like a baby. Trust me on that one.”

Bucky is still fighting, his throat working uselessly as he tries to draw a breath.

Every scenario, every choice, every possibility, flies through her head. Trying desperately to come up with a solution, with a way to save them both, she thinks and thinks and thinks.

And she comes up empty, because the answer is simple.

There is no solution.

Then what choice does she have?

She remembers the parade of men from before, the sound of their screams as the chair rocked bolts of electricity through them again and again. The thought of Bucky strapped in that chair, his body convulsing as the electric currents wrack his body, as he screams for her to help him - it is inconceivable. She knows what she has to do. She knows.

What choice does she have?

“Yes,” she sobs, her eyes filling with tears. “Fine, yes, I’ll do it, please just - let him go.”

Motioning to the guard, Richter points at the floor. The man releases his death-grip on Bucky’s throat, kicking his feet from under him and Bucky falls hard to his knees. Wrenching herself from Richter’s harsh grip, she rushes to catch him before Bucky’s face hits the floor.

“You have one minute,” Richter warns, fading into the shadows of the dark room. “And then you do it. If you leave anything behind again, I will kill him.”

After everything, here they are. Together.

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, the warm light cocoons them in their own world, one last time.

Bucky rests his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes when she cradles his thin frame against her. In the quiet room, his short, shallow breaths echo raggedly. Carefully, she runs her fingers soothingly up his neck, over the spiky tufts of dark hair and his body wilts in her tight embrace.

Sighing wearily, he picks his head up and touches his forehead to hers. Cupping his face, she brushes her fingers over the scratchy stubble lining his sunken cheeks and he gives her a rueful smile.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking. You okay with a one-armed husband?” he breathes. “Promise I can still love you just as hard.”

Tears streaming down her face, she returns his smile. “I love it. It makes you look dashing.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” he replies, pushing his nose against hers. Precious seconds slip by as they sit in silence, breathing each other in. Both trying their damndest to remember everything about the other, before they lose it all. Finally, she whispers her favorite words in his ear.

“I love you, Bucky.”

He hums contentedly and smiles. “I love you too. Don’t ever forget it, okay? I know I won’t.”

It takes every last drop of willpower for her not break down. Because he will forget. He will forget, and she will make certain that he does.

Rubbing her cheek against his, she presses her lips to the shell of his ear, giving him one more thing that the rest of the world cannot take. Something that is theirs, and theirs alone.

“You’re everything for me, Bucky Barnes. You’re the love of my life,” she murmurs, and he leans his head against her. When he opens his eyes, she finds an endless ocean of sadness pouring from the blue depths and he speaks quickly under his breath.

“Listen to me. Whatever happens, I need you to do something for me, okay?” The desperate urgency in his voice makes her heart skip. “No matter what happens, don’t you dare stay here. I can see it in your face honey, don’t you stay here, stuck in this room inside your head, thinking you could’ve done something different. You understand me?”

Swallowing hard, she tries to answer, but he cuts her off. The words are full of fear, holding a message he needs her to accept. “Please, I’m begging you. When you get out of here, you find a way to go on. Find a way to live.”

Losing him again will break her. That fact is as certain as the sun rising in the east.

There’s no way she can do this again, but in her heart, she knows that’s not what he needs. He needs her to agree, he needs her to try, and if she has to send his mind into a graveyard of buried memories, at least she can do this one thing for him.

She owes their love that much.

“I will,” she says. “I promise, I will.”

“That’s my girl,” he whispers with a tired smile. Staring into his eyes, she does everything she can to memorize the love she finds there, before Bucky gives her a crooked smile and tells her one more secret. “You know what? I don’t regret anything that happened. If I had to do it all over, I wouldn’t change one damn thing. It all led me to you, and I’ll remember every piece of us to the end. Because this kind of love, it never leaves. Right?”

“No, it never leaves,” she echoes. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she kisses him full on the mouth, tasting blood and salt and love, trying with her whole heart to carve even a small bit of herself into his bones.

Breaking the kiss, her heart plummets at the sight of his sweet smile.

Blinking away her tears, she takes a deep breath.

And then she tears her entire world apart.

Surprise fills Bucky’s face when he feels the heat begin to pulse from her hands, when he sees the soft glow of white light from her fingers. Watching her in confusion, his lips part as though he wants to say something, but no words come. Concentrating harder than she ever has before, she gathers everything, all those beautiful memories that make Bucky Barnes the man he has become and she wipes them all away.

All his stories about the Howling Commandos. That spring day he caught a foul ball at a Dodgers game. Steve Rogers’ floppy blond hair shining in the summer sun at Coney Island. The way his mother sang while she baked, and the fairytales he read his sister before bed. How he felt looking in the mirror the first time he put on his uniform, pale and scared to death. Watching a brilliant red sun sinking in the ocean, the day he sailed for England. Every memory he has of her. The thrill of their first kiss and the way she held his arm when he walked her home from church and the first time they made love and how nervous he felt asking her to marry him.

How god damn much he loves her.

Every colorful memory he owns, she siphons away. Nothing is left behind, because this time, she can take no chances.

The white light burns hotter, so bright Bucky squeezes his eyes closed and still she watches him through it all, until finally, finally, finally -

She lets go.

Bucky slumps unconscious, his chin tucked to his chest. Pressing one final kiss to his forehead, her silent tears splash to the floor. She wants to stay forever, to be there when he opens his eyes, to force herself back into this new life, to make him remember her. To make him remember who they are together.

My god. Oh my god, what has she done.

Before she can say a word, the guards rip him from her arms. Dragging him away, his head lolls to the side and the last thing she sees, before they exit the room, are Bucky’s eyes beginning to flutter open.

“Wait -“ she says, panic filling every last cell in her body, “no, please wait, don’t - please, where are you taking him?”

“He has work to do,” Richter says dismissively.

Sick with heartbreak and drowning in regret, she remains kneeling on the floor, and every last piece of her soul shatters.

*****

Day later, there’s a screech of metal, and her door bangs open.

Richter saunters in, a length of cloth folded over his arm. Behind him, is the Hydra guard who escorted her from her cell last time, his gun cocked and aimed.

Caked in dried mud and an obscene amount of blood, the bright blue of Bucky’s Howlie jacket is nearly unrecognizable. The left arm is mostly torn away, the thick material hanging in ragged strips below the elbow. With a grunt, Richter tears away a piece of fabric at the shoulder and tosses it at her.

“Here. Thought you might want this,” he says coldly.

At her feet, the cloth looks dark and dirty, but in the midst of grimy blue, she sees the gray wings Bucky had sewn into his jacket sleeve. She remembers tracing her fingers over them, asking what they meant. Bucky had grinned, his chest swelling with a bit of pride, before he wove tales for her about the Howling Commandos. He glossed over their missions and focused on the men instead, and she remembers how wonderfully he could tell a story. The small bits of humor he found amid the bleakness of war painted a bright world for her to see.

Now, she picks it up, touching the rusty-red smudges lining the edges of the wings. She looks up at him.

“Why?”

Richter says nothing, but a grim smile pulls at his lips. He draws out the pause, savoring the expectation in her face, before carelessly dropping a bomb.

“Zola lost him during a routine experiment. He coded on the table. Guess we haven’t made our soldiers as durable as we need just yet.”

This bomb, it finishes the job Steve’s telegram began. For the second time, she learns the love of her life is dead and now there is nothing but cold emptiness where her heart used to be.

“We no longer require your services. We have a new machine that should work just fine,” he tilts his head, looking down at her. “But thank you for your help.”

Spinning on his heel, he shoves the remains of the blue coat at the guard still waiting in the doorway.

“Burn it,” he orders. “And leave her here to rot.”

The door bangs shut and the lock clicks with a sickening finality.

*****

No food. No water.

For two days, she hears footsteps marching back and forth in front of her door. Something seems to be happening, but through it all, no one pays attention to the woman locked in the cell at the end of the hall, waiting to die.

In her dreams, she sees Bucky strapped to a table exactly like the one they used for her. Was he scared? Did he go willingly or did he fight? Did it happen quickly? Did it hurt? Did he realize what was happening before his heart stopped?

Was there any part of him, maybe buried deep down, that loved her to the end?

She dismisses that last thought. No, of course there wasn’t. She made sure of that fact.

In a strange way, she finds a perverse relief in Bucky’s death. At least this way, he will never know how she betrayed him.

Perhaps if there is an afterlife, someday she can find him there and beg his forgiveness.

On the morning of the third day, sunlight flows through the rectangular window near the ceiling and she waits on her bed. For someone to come. Anyone. To save her. To kill her. Either would work, she’s not picky. Watching the slow crawl of sunlight move across the floor, she counts the minutes, until she notices something peculiar.

Silence.

Sitting up takes a massive effort and rising to her feet almost knocks her out. Knees wobbling dangerously, her sweaty hand presses to the wall for balance, and she stumbles to the door.

“Hello?” she croaks, but it comes as nothing more than a rough whisper. Wrapping her fingers around the bars of the door, she rests her forehead against the cold metal. Summoning her strength, she tries again. “Is anyone there?”

Silence.

No one answers. No lights illuminate the hallway. There is no hum of electricity, no sound of a distant radio playing, no raucous laughter. There is no one there.

So. They left her to die then.

Angry tears fill her eyes, and she bangs a weak fist on the door. Without expecting a solution, she grabs the door handle and rattles it, hot tears spilling over and streaking through the dirt on her cheeks.

But miraculously - the door opens.

Stepping cautiously into the doorway, she scans the hallway and finds nothing. Perplexed, she looks down and her confusion grows. Outside the door, a cloth bundle is propped against the wall. Crouching down, she hesitantly pulls at the loose knot and it falls open, revealing a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, two apples, and a cracked leather canteen full of water.

Common sense screams at her to think, but she throws caution to the wind. Grabbing the canteen with trembling fingers, she flips the lid and chugs the cold water. It has a dusty, alkaline taste, but she cries with relief. Tearing off a hunk of bread, she stuffs it in her mouth, her eyes drifting closed at the taste. It hits the hollowness in her belly so fast, she almost retches, but she manages to keep it down.

The rest, she wraps up in the cloth sack and hugs it to her chest.

She walks down the hall. Through a small office, down another hall.

With every step, she expects to be stopped. But nothing happens.

At the end of the hall, is a heavy black door. When she opens it, sunlight spills in and she takes a deep breath of fresh air.

From the outside, the base looks like a series of old buildings, but there is literally nothing else. No people. No vehicles. Nothing but the peppy chirp of birds warbling in the trees. For one brief moment, she stands in the morning light and thinks about giving up. Such a soothing thought.

But then the sound of Bucky’s voice fills her head.

Find a way to live.

The years that follow will be filled with devastating sadness, but beneath it all, she will hold these words close to her heart. She can do this for him.

So, she starts walking.

Down the ruts of the narrow access road leading away from the building, one foot in front of the other. She anticipates bullets hitting her from behind, but nothing happens. On she walks, through a forest of trees, one step after another. Into the open, where the access road joins up with a small country lane. She turns left and keeps going. Five slow miles she traipses along, until a town appears.

On the edge of the main street, she sees a small grocery store and walks inside. Covered in grime, shivering from head to toe, she tries to speak, but instead, she collapses. An older woman looks up from behind the counter, and her curls of thick black hair bounce when she rushes around the front counter shouting in Italian for help.

For two weeks, she stays there recovering, but no one comes.

In that sleepy Italian town, she finally understands.

After everything she has done, after everything they stole from her, after they broke her one last time - it appears that Hydra really was finished with her.

With freedom should come relief, but that is an emotion reserved for saints, not sinners like her. What she has done, she can never undo.

She will live with that fact, from now until the end of her days.

*****

Next Chapter

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fic #altnl

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angelandgypsy · 1 year

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Artisan Handcrafted Montana Agate Silver Crystal Healing Ring.

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clansayeed · 4 years

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Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 21: The Victor

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The mastermind behind the attack at the Ball is revealed. The Council enters the 21st century.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“What is the meaning of this?!”

“You claim to be innocent yet where you go these wretched abominations follow!”

“What— do you really think —!”

“Save the blame for later! Kill the thing! Nadya — get out of here!”

She doesn’t want to leave them behind. Not again, we’re not that lucky, her deepest fears scream. But Kamilah isn’t having it — pushes her back towards where they came with a vampire’s strength that makes her stumble to catch her feet.

Nadya hooks her fingers on the doorway and dares a look back.

It’s one Feral versus four vampires. Three of which are over two thousand years old. She isn’t surprised that the attack is over before it really begins — watches Isseya and Kamilah grasp it’s skeletal arms from behind and pull until she hears something break underneath the skin even far away.

Then two more writhing beasts enter; push over each other in their haste to consume, devour.

“KAM—!”

The rest of her scream falls flat. Drowned in a palm against her mouth. A strong arm grasps her from behind and yanks Nadya sharply back against a figure of hard stone.

Nadya looks up into the face of her attacker and screams.

“Now now, Miss Al Jamil,” croons Vega with fangs and fury, “let’s leave them to it. You and I have a polite conversation to finish — elsewhere.”

Before she can attempt another futile scream he whisks her into the museum’s depths.

There’s a fire in her lungs. No — not a fire — an inferno.

Nadya stumbles over a curled edge of a floor rug. Manages to catch herself before she can fall and pushes her screaming limbs against their protests to carry her further through the stacks of the Musea Sanguis.

“Ooh, that looked like it hurt. But good save, Miss Al Jamil! Good save indeed!”

Vega’s laugh taunts her — echoes off the walls and on every shelf she passes.

He’s getting his rocks off; he has from the moment she wrenched herself free of him and took off in an unknown direction. Anywhere, literally anywhere, was better than in the clutches of a man like him.

She knows he can smell her fear. Taste her blood on the tip of his tongue. Hear every raggedy breath she takes and the thudding of her racing footsteps. He’s just giving her a bit of time before killing her.

He wants it to last.

It’s like playing cat and mouse. If the cat were actually a highly-intelligent tiger and the mouse was missing its front paws.

Nadya rounds a stack and presses herself against it — holds her breath until she goes red in the face and the biological will to survive takes over and forces her to inhale. Sweat beads in thick teardrops down her face; into her eyes — makes it impossible to see through the salty sting.

She presses her knuckles into them until it feels like her eyeballs might pop. Blinks away the stars in her vision…

Vega grins down at her not an inch away.

“Boo.”

He could reach out to snatch her but doesn’t. Nadya feels the give of his body as she shoves him back on instinct and resumes her flight towards freedom.

Vega inhales with the whole of his chest and lets out another bellowing laugh.

“Divine — simply divine! I had no idea how much I missed this — the hunt, the chase, the capture! Run, girl, run!”

Nothing looks familiar. Nadya can’t tell if she’s just gone in a large square or somehow put herself in a different part of the museum altogether. If she’d been able to keep her eyes open when Vega stole her away… if she’d just tried to fight harder maybe.

But those negative thoughts don’t blend well with the headache pushing its way back between her temples. It’s not a real reason to stop thinking them but if it works; it works.

She just has to get back to Kamilah and Adrian. Or keep running long enough for them to find her. She just has to hold on.

A left, a right, then another right and Nadya’s suddenly a sitting duck; standing in the middle of the shelves with a dim crystal chandelier gathering dust overhead. Even if she could hear anything over the blood pounding in her chest she doubts Vega would let his steps make any sound.

Fuck.

In her moment of panic Nadya does the first rational thing that comes to mind: takes a page out of Lily’s book (not that Lily has spent much time on the run from evil villains in real life… that she’s aware of) and tries to think of what she’d do if this weren’t an actual life-or-death situation but instead was just another messy video game filled to the brim with pixels of blood.

There aren’t any health potions in sight. She doesn’t have a transparent map of the Musea overhead guiding her. But if she tries really hard Nadya’s pretty sure she can imagine daunting chase music on a loop in the background.

Breathe Nadi’, breathe.

The imagined echo of Lily in her head is giving some great advice. Makes Nadya stop, focus, and breathe.

“A vampire is never unarmed. Find a weapon of your own.”

Something catches the light out of the corner of her eye. Nadya turns and — really can’t believe her luck — gives an audible sigh of relief at the sight of a sword propped up on display in the middle of the path. Held aloft on a podium by two silver brackets carved to in the shape of bird claws and just underneath shorter shelves packed to the brim with tightly-wound scrolls.

She’s an inch away from grabbing the jewel-encrusted hilt when the smallest thread of common sense kicks into overdrive.

That voice did not sound like Lily — not at all.

But… it wasn’t wrong. Right? Vega’s got centuries on her; the strength to snap her like a twig and fangs that would cut through her flesh like butter.

So Nadya takes the sword in hand — in both hands when she struggles with the weight of it; definitely different than Jax’s katana — and tells herself repeatedly that she’s not listening to the feeble croaking horror-movie voice that’s decided to make itself comfortable in her head.

Too many people are doing that lately; chilling out in her noggin like it’s a hostel or a Brooklyn bed’n’breakfast. Only the freeloaders aren’t welcome and definitely aren’t paying rent.

In the distance Nadya spots a familiar ruined archway and sobs in relief.

But she’s not even two steps forward when Vega emerges from a row with feigned surprise. Though it turns real at the weapon she has in hand.

Only he laughs at it; doesn’t see a desperate life with a sword but rather a child with a stick. “What exactly are you planning on doing with that,” he croons, “besides dragging it around like dead weight? Do you even know how to use it?”

Nadya’s own ferocity surprises her. “I think ‘stick the asshole with the sharp end’ is pretty straightforward.”

She holds the weapon between them but Vega steps forward unperturbed.

“I’d applaud your effort if it weren’t so useless. You’ve never used a weapon like that in your life — that much is painfully obvious.” He stops Nadya from raising the blade higher with nothing more than the tip of his finger holding it steady. “In fact I rather doubt you’ll use it now.”

“You’d be mistaken.”

“Then prove it.”

He’s called her bluff. Already her arms start shaking with broadsword’s weight; teeth grit in focus.

“Go on,” he jeers again, “prove yourself. Not to me — I couldn’t care less about one more sack of blood. Yet despite your fragility you’ve managed to enchant Raines — though I can’t say I’m surprised — and Sayeed.”

“Dude—seriously—shut up.”

“Run him through. Or cut out his tongue for his insolence. But I should think you aren’t quite ready for that kind of violence yet.”

Vega can’t hear the voice in her head; continues on, “There’s nothing impressive about you. Unless I’m missing the obvious.”

“Never underestimate an opponent. Show him his mistake.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate me…” Her voice wavers. Makes Vega bark a laugh.

“When there is so little to underestimate as it is?”

“Do it. Run him through.”

“Perhaps there’s a delicacy to you I’ve overlooked. They’ve tasted you; Raines and Sayeed. Haven’t they?”

“Do it. Do it now!”

Vega stalks closer; practically presses the sword into himself.

“Maybe I’ll see what I’m missing…”

“Stop! Stay away from me!”

“Do it! Do it!”

She’d like to say fear, panic, and a sudden courage she didn’t know she had made her do it; made her swing the sword. But being honest with herself… Nadya isn’t so sure it wasn’t the voice compelling her into action.

If only it could compel her into some talent, too.

The sword swings in a half-arc; wrenches up and away from Vega and tries to carry Nadya along with its weight. But she holds fast. Pants every breath like she’s just run the breadth of Manhattan Island.

Vega stands before her impossibly still. A drop of crimson running down the slit in his cheek like a coppery teardrop. Even though the wound heals the evidence remains.

“A disgrace,” the voice comments in her thoughts, “though you managed to wound him nonetheless.”

And yes; war is still terrible and weapons are still terrible and whether it’s a club or a sword or a gun she still is against the violence in the world. But wow did that feel good. It felt freeing.

It felt empowering.

Vega, however, doesn’t seem to think so. Instead he looks like he’s done playing games. Upper lip curling back in a savage snarl.

“Run.”

Nadya flings the sword at Vega in a panic — if she lives through this she’ll call herself names later for that move — and flees.

The hunt resumes. This time pure adrenaline and hunger. He kept to the edge of catching her for his entertainment before but she knows that all it will take is one grab of his hand and that’s it. Game over.

“Turn.”

She’s not listening to the voice — turning just happens to be a good idea. Not running into a dead end is a very good idea; a very very good idea.

“Turn again. Double back.”

What? Hell no. But there’s a heavy thud beside her and Nadya rounds on the other side of the bookshelf just in time to avoid Vega’s wicked grasp and a tidal wave of tomes fall on thin air instead.

So… maybe she’s just going to take directions from her unconscious. Better safe than sorry. Especially when sorry really means dead.

Nadya doesn’t break pace — turns when she’s told and hides behind this canvas and that display. Like there’s an omniscient watcher on high (she chances a look up at the rafters but sees only shadow) helping her navigate the labyrinth.

Only it takes her a moment to realize she’s not being led to freedom or safety. Nothing around her looks even remotely familiar. She’s being led into the depths of the Musea hidden in shadow. Being led not just away from Vega… but towards something else.

“Turn now!”

Her feet move on autopilot — careen her right into a dead end.

“Dammit!” She shouts without thinking — looks hastily behind her like Vega should be right there. Actually… he should be.

She just gave herself away so why isn’t he there?

Her panic doesn’t subside — not one bit — but her racing heart calms enough to cure her tunnel vision. Gives her a moment to focus on where she is. Where she’s trapped.

She’s somewhere in the back of the Musea. Maybe an archive or something. For the last five hours (or maybe it was five seconds; time passes differently running for your life) she’s only passed stack upon stack of books and volumes and scrolls placed in haphazard balance with the utmost care.

And in every dead-end alcove there’s been some sort of table covered in contributions yet to be sorted. But not this one.

No — Nadya and all her amazingly crap luck turned into the alcove with a giant black coffin against the wall.

It vaguely reminds her of the tomb Adrian had placed Lily in for her Turning. Heavy stone carved together as both a place for mourning and rebirth. But where the coffin in the Raines Corp. basement was allowed to show age and weather this one isn’t. The edges are still sharp — like one touch would slice her hand open.

And that’s not even beginning to unpack the large iron chains polished to a glossy finish wrapped in an endless coil around the thing. A padlock with five key holes the size of both her fists resting near the top like a metal heart.

You chain something up to keep people out. You go that hard on a lock, though, and immediately you know something is being kept in.

Yet even with that fact in mind Nadya finds herself stepping towards it. Deeper and deeper into the alcove and into the alluring obsidian void the polished surface reflects. Her mirror image — disheveled and pale; just a hairs breadth away from dying of fright — reaching out with her in sync towards the lock.

She can open it. She just knows. Knows that like she knows she shouldn’t but wouldn’t it be all right to have just one peek — just one…?

“Just one…” Nadya whispers. Her reflection whispers.

Both Nadyas are fixated on the lock. Ignore one another for the promise of what lies trapped within. Of the safety it could provide for them if it was let out.

Both of them almost miss the blurry figure behind them. Almost.

She whirls around too late. Scream lost, choked in her throat as Vega doesn’t just grab — but squeezes. His eyes shaking in his skull; face red and a vein in his temple throbbing. She claws and claws with all her might but nothing works.

Then the floor goes out from under her. The back of her head hits the onyx coffin with a violent thunk. Nadya feels an unfamiliar warmth slip down her skull to tickle the nape of her neck.

But even as things start to go fuzzy around the edges Nadya notices right away that Vega isn’t focused on his conquest. He’s too busy staring at the image of himself in the coffin’s surface.

“Endless corners to hide in, rooms to get lost in, weapons to arm yourself with… and you choose this.” For a man who prides himself on his presence there’s something different about him, now. She struggles with the right word for it.

He’s… smaller. Shrinking himself back in the presence of, what, of her? No. Not when he’s been howling and batting her around like lame prey.

Vega’s eyes roam; take in every chain link and corner behind her. “What stories have they told you of him? Did they regale you with his glory days and conquests? Did you see a knight in golden armor set free to slay your enemy out of sheer gratitude? Did Raines tell you of the innocent blood they bathed in together?”

It’s the black casket.

And she knows, now, who rests inside. Like all things — she has always known.

“I may not know what Adrian was like before —” every word like a serrated knife against her lungs; struggling to speak even as his grip tightens, “—but you’re wrong Vega. He’s, ack, he’s a good man. He’s not Gaius. Not even a little.”

He barks a laugh. Spares her a glance for only a sneer before he fixates on the slab again. Like if he dares look away somehow the evil inside will slip free of its bonds and roam untethered.

“Such deluded arrogance.”

Nadya tries her best with struggling survival — and really, she doesn’t have to try that hard — to give him every ounce of hatred she has in one look.

“Why — why?”

He humors her even in the haze of his fear. Slackens his grip but raises her higher. The chains dig against Nadya’s spine; the blood from her head smears the perfect surface.

“Squeak louder little mouse,” Vega jeers, “it will be your last to be sure.”

Nadya swallows against his palm. The air thick and dusty in her lungs.

“Why?” she croaks. If any word is going to be her last it’ll be that. Whether he gives her an answer or not. She tried. God, did she try.

Whatever it takes. She did whatever it took. Even this.

And he tells her.

Either because he’s a great literary villain or because he pities the gasping half-dead thing she’s becoming under his hand; he tells her. Whispers it so only she can hear. But she’s not the only one using her ears. He’s a fool to think they’re alone.

“I did what must be done.” Vega pulls back and there’s absolution lurking underneath his hunger. He’s glad she heard his confession.

She regrets wasting her last word to ask.

He squeezes. Sticky blood wells up underneath his fingernails. Smears an imprint of his palm against her throat. Nadya opens her mouth to scream — however silently — and Vega mirrors her with his fangs reared for the kill.

Then there’s a knife on the tip of his tongue. Not another metaphor — she’s on the verge of the end it’s no time for metaphors — but the real deal. Vega’s blood splatters on her face, on her lips, and uses up the last of Nadya’s energy to make her recoil from the horror of it.

The knife’s point twitches and shifts — left to right, right to left — and wedges the top half of Vega’s skull off with little respect or grace. Like a mechanical claw his hand opens and the stale air never tasted so good as it does in that first breath she takes falling to the museum floor.

On her hands and knees Nadya blinks through the sting of vampire blood in time to gaze one last time into the face (well, most of it) of Adam Vega. Watches his lifeless eyes fixate hollow on the wall behind her before it crumbles into ash.

His body follows shortly after; knees buckling but it withers and wastes in blanketed silence over Nadya’s crumpled form. She closes her eyes, struggles to hold her breath when her lungs are still remembering how to work right.

God forbid she inhale any of the creepy jerk.

When she’s sure she won’t go blind on Vega-ash Nadya opens her eyes to a familiar hand reached out in offering.

“Your companions are scouring the Musea for you.”

Valdas gives her the time she needs to collect herself. Doesn’t retract his hand while she takes deep, reviving gulps of oxygen and helps pull her up on trembling legs. And when she buckles he’s there to catch her. Not in comfort or kindness; but in stiff obligation.

Being this close to him again she can feel that endless void in his breast trying to reach out to her. It’s enough motivation for Nadya to forcibly stand on her own two feet.

She wipes off her face with a sleeve. Tries not to think too much about the way Vega’s ash clung to Vega’s blood before it dried.

Holy…

“You —” rapidly looking between the Nadya-shaped outline on the carpeting and her rescuer, “— you saved my life.”

Judging by the look in his immortal eyes, though, that’s just a bonus. She chooses not to think too hard about it.

“Two birds with one stone.” Is his clipped reply.

“I thought you were going to…”

“‘…to…?’”

“— to confront him. For using you and Isseya.”

The vampire looks down at the remnants with calm passivity. Nadya wants to be angry; wants to be fucking stoked he’s gone. But something about how Valdas isn’t even sparing Vega’s death another thought resonates with her.

Or maybe it just resonates with the part of her that’s the part of him.

“No.”

And that’s that.

Then it hits her like an aftershock. Your companions are looking for you. Kamilah and Adrian — they’re alive! And even though she has no idea how to begin going about finding them in this maze from hell she starts forward.

Only to be stopped by Valdas’ grasp on her arm.

She looks back, “hey, what —” and finds him turned away from her; fixated.

Nadya’s done everything in her limited power to forget the dark black casket is there. Not an easy task; like seeing a canvas with only one subject and trying to convince herself the display is blank; like there’s a hole in her world because it doesn’t — shouldn’t — exist.

She chides herself mentally for thinking it was that easy.

Placing her hand over his Nadya tries to coax him with her. Kind of impossible since he’s like a load-bearing pillar.

“Come on,” she urges harder, “help me find the way out of here.”

She might as well not be talking at all.

When Valdas finally speaks his words make her shiver deep in her bones.

“So this is where they put you.”

She’s not dumb. Knows he isn’t talking to her. But really doesn’t want to stick around in case what he’s talking to decides to, you know, answer.

“Valdas, please. Come on.”

“To think… that which once waged impossible wars on immovable heavens could be chained. Locked away. Forgotten…”

“Val—Valdemaras, please…”

Something about his name brings him back from wherever the siren’s call of the tomb tried to take him. When he looks at Nadya she holds her breath while each blink changes his eyes — red to honey and back again.

“He led you here.”

Nadya nods — doesn’t want to say it aloud. Was able to push that knowledge back by struggling for her life but with Vega gone she has to face facts.

She knows who is in there. And she knows he led her here — to his prison.

But she won’t continue to play the pawn. Not after all this.

“Let’s go.” And she’s lucky for one step — it’s getting kind of frustrating. “Good; now the other foot.”

Real smart Nadi’. Patronize the crazy old vampire who just killed the guy who was gonna kill you. Excellent survival skills there.

It works (though she tries her best not to be surprised; like it was her plan all along). She doesn’t know if Valdas looks back until the coffin — call it what it is: a prison — is out of sight but she doesn’t give it the satisfaction.

Together they venture back through stacks and shelves. Nadya keeps him close — or keeps close to him, she’s not picky — in case any more of Vega’s Feral friends are hiding out of sight.

And just when things start to look familiar — no way this place has two giant taxidermy Minotaur heads in a glass case, right? — she hears a familiar voice and sobs.

“Nadya?! Nadya where are you?!”

“I’m over here, this way!” She calls out to Adrian with actual hope and relief. “I’m okay Adrian, I’m okay!”

“Kamilah —”

“Yes yes, I heard her too. This way.”

Because it would only make things more difficult (and secretly because she’s reached her body’s step-count for the day and really doesn’t want to collapse like a damsel in Kamilah’s arms) Nadya stays rooted in place.

Has to choke back the tears in her eyes as she dares to think everything might just be okay.

“What did Vega whisper in his final moments?”

Dammit. She tries not to flinch. Couldn’t they just leave well enough alone and just… forget it? Can she not have one little slice of victory pie?

Valdas doesn’t have to ask twice and he knows it. Waits with unerring patience until Nadya looks back at him through her curtain of ashy hair.

Don’t make me say it.

The look in his eyes speaks volumes.

“Nadya — once more!” This time it’s Kamilah who calls out to her and she’s much closer. Not close enough.

“Over here!” Maybe she’ll get lucky. Maybe they’ll find her before Valdas gets impatient.

But she’s used up all her luck. Valdas’ lips quirk downward.

So Nadya wets her lips, conjures up the last bit of courage she has, and tells him. “He said…”

“You know nothing of the kingdom of blood; of the vast hills strewn with bodies in His wake. We made a mistake when we chose to let him suffer for his crimes — I knew it. We all knew it. But we let him live and now we will pay the price for our vanity.

“He’s coming. And He will not stop until His kingdom is finished. Until His Soldier and His Queen return to His side. I tried to stop Him — I tried to break the cycle before it had the chance to begin. I did what must be done.”

There’s an exhale behind her; Adrian’s noise of relief. Then Kamilah’s hurried footsteps.

“He said he was jealous of Adrian’s status. Probably some long-running rivalry I don’t understand. Thank you for saving my life — again. I mean it.”

Nadya turns away and feels her held-back tears finally start to fall.

By Jax’s third prolonged sigh Maricruz has had enough.

“Stop. being. a. child!” She smacks his shoulder with every word and judging by his flinching it’s not a love-tap. Finally he uncrosses his arms to hold them up in is defense.

“All right, stop!” Doesn’t stop him from sending another scowl towards the conference room doors and the vampires beyond. “I just think it’s kind of jilted. She didn’t even put up a fight and what do they get; a bunch of Ferals to wail on.”

Nadya blinks; pretends like she’s cleaning out her ears with her little finger to make sure she’s hearing him right.

“You’re mad you didn’t get to fight?”

“Well —”

“You’re mad you didn’t have to risk your life — or worse if they’d bitten you — and instead got the easier job? Am I hearing that right?”

But before Jax can defend himself Lily returns with pilfered goodies from the lobby coffee cart. Throws a bag of onion-flavored chips Jax’s way to placate his aimless frustration.

“Don’t even try to reason with him, Nadi’,” she chides while handing the human her much-needed caffeine, “he’s a sucker for violence. Why else do you think he carries around that stupid sword, like, legit everywhere?”

She’s got a point. Nadya sips her coffee while looking him over as if for the first time. It’s doubly satisfying when he squirms under her gaze; adjusts a slip of his shirt hanging out under his zipped jacket.

“I figured it was for the aesthetic.”

The girls break into short-lived laughter at his expense.

Short-lived only because not long after the conference room door opens. Adrian gives a grim jerk of his head for them to enter.

Nicole is still tied to the chair at the head of the table — “Jump rope, really?” “Good thing Lula left it in the van.” — only she’s no longer struggling against her bonds but instead sits slumped over; unresponsive.

Nadya immediately finds comfort at Kamilah’s side. She just can’t help looking at the woman with concern.

“Is she…?”

“She’s merely unconscious. Don’t fret.”

“Hey there’s no fretting here,” she swallows her scalding brew, “I just…”

But Lily’s already got the same thought — best best friend ever — and pushes a single finger to Nicole’s head to raise it. Sure enough her eye is ringed a mottled blue-and-purple. Lily flashes her a thumbs up.

“Wait — you really did punch her?” Adrian asks as he closes the door behind them. “I thought she was making it up to make you look bad.”

Nadya looks to Kamilah. Kamilah who had very much been there when the famed punch occurred.

The woman simply shrugs. “I believe in basking in one’s victory over an enemy. You deserved this at the very least.”

Okay, that’s cute. Makes Nadya flush slightly and nudge herself closer against Kamilah’s side. Though her expression remains impassive Nadya feels the ghost of a touch at her lower back. That’s more than enough.

Jax fake-coughs. “A-hem. So, are we gonna get to it?”

And pettiness aside Nadya, too, is itching to hear what the pair learned in their interrogation of Nicole. If only so they don’t ask her if Vega explained anything important before he was killed.

In the short months she’s known Adrian she’s gotten familiar with his expressive attitude — especially when it so starkly contrasts with Kamilah’s reserved nature. She’s seen pretty much the entire emotional spectrum and what it comes with; the good and the bad.

But whatever has him so quiet, terse, tight-lipped? She hopes that when all this is put to rest she never has to see him like this again.

There’s a burning darkness hanging behind his eyes as he rests his weight on a pair of chairs; looks over to Nicole with tension trying to come out on top over immortality in the creases of his furrowed brow.

“He promised her his next clan opening — to start with.”

Adrian had willfully looked with a blind eye to just how much Nicole wanted to be Turned. He keeps trying to blame himself; “If I’d just taken her a little more seriously,” but neither Kamilah nor Nadya let him fall into the well of self-pity for too long.

It was Turning Lily that set her over the edge. Unable to look past the dire circumstances (and the fact that Lily hadn’t taken the Clan spot anyway) she decided enough was enough and went to the next best candidate to help her continue along her current uphill trajectory.

Vega was the obvious choice.

Especially when he revealed some plans of his own; plans that required getting Adrian out of the way, Ideally on a permanent basis. “The one thing she couldn’t tell us was what he was working towards,” Adrian explains, “When Nicole wants something she’ll find a way to get it. But she couldn’t crack him.”

“How do you know she’s not just keeping it secret for leverage?” asks Mari; rightfully so too.

Kamilah hums. “Trust me. I pulled everything out of her she was able to give.”

It was Nicole’s idea to tie the rise in Ferals to Adrian’s experiments. Apparently being one step below the top just wasn’t enough. She forged results and data — and when the time came for there to be a body count alongside the paper trail Vega was there to help.

“As for the Ball…” Defeat hangs heavy on his shoulders. “They knew it was a risk but also that if they pulled it off my fate would be all but sealed.”

“Vega was willing to risk his life — risk the Council, risk everything — to pull it off. The lives lost as a result are on his head.” adds Kamilah. The look she gives Adrian is probably her version of reassuring. It’s decidedly less so.

Nicole had used her access to Adrian’s labs to take a vial of Feral venom from testing — “similar to the venom in our blood that Turns humans, only corrupted with the Feral taint,” — and with it eliminated any exposure risk on Vega’s part.

Nadya thinks of Megan writhing prone and desperate in the middle of the ballroom; remembers hearing Brandon’s sobs of grief beside her on the train back to the city. Then there’s an icy hand over hers and she looks down to see her own fist clenched — white-knuckled rage held just below the surface.

The look Kamilah gives her is silent but questioning. “I’m okay.” She reassures. Maybe soon she’ll even start to believe it.

The rest of Nicole and Vega’s combined master plan they were pretty much there for; the trial, the lies, Vega relying on the Trinity to stab Adrian in the back for their own sakes and them falling right into his expectations. For her help and testimony not only would Nicole be Turned but Raines Corp. would practically land in her pocket.

“And now it won’t. Hooray, now can we please go home?” Jax rolls his eyes as he says it — still angry about the lack of action on his end.

Adrian’s holding something back — Nadya can see it. If they had more time she’d pester him until he popped but there’s so few precious hours until dawn… and there’s one more thing they need to do.

“But hold on a sec. You’re both still wanted —” Lily points at Kamilah and Adrian, “— so why would the Council of Ass-Clowns agree to meet with you? And have it not be, like, you know… a trap.”

“Plans have already been set in motion. But we should hurry.”

Kamilah doesn’t waste any time — practically drags Nadya with her until they’re all on Raines Corp’s front steps.

Jax gives them both a curt nod. “Then this is where we part ways.”

“Actually…” and Jax really doesn’t like how Adrian leaves him hanging on a single word; really really doesn’t like the look he and Kamilah share.

“No. No way.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“I don’t need to. I’m done trusting you two.”

Nadya can’t help but be disappointed. “Jax, just give them a chance.”

“Why should I? So far there’s been a whole lot of risk and very little reward.” Yes, he’s referring to the lack of violence. Which frankly Nadya’s starting to get tired of.

But before she can try to sway him further Adrian steps forward with a hand out in offering. Gives Jax an earnest look.

“Because I don’t forget my debts… and because I think I know how we can make change happen. But it’s now or never.”

It’s like the last five minutes of a show and there’s a whole plotline left untouched. She watches with near nail-biting anticipation as the men size each other up. As Jax’s eyes narrow in suspicion and he starts to object.

“I —”

This time when Maricruz hits him there’s nothing gentle about it. Lily has to smother her fit of laughter while the Clanless square off.

“Fuck your pride, Jax. This is about everyone and somewhere deep down I know you know that. So put your dick away and shake the man’s hand, dammit.”

It’s not the longest speech; nor the most heartfelt. But it’s sure damn well effective.

“You’d do well to remember you’re in our city.”

“Yeah. You can’t just summon us on a whim!”

“And yet here you are.”

“I can’t believe I left a fucking massage for this shit.”

“Oh — will you just shut up, Priya?”

“What did you just say to me?!”

Any louder and they’d echo over Central Park; statue-topped hidden entrance or no. But it’s no surprise. Still they continue down into the Council chamber — into the pit of vipers that awaits.

Valdas and Isseya stand in the center of an oblong triangle of Council members; each colored in varied levels of frustration.

Kamilah is the first to emerge from the stairwell — her presence cuts the Baron off mid-snap at Priya.

“You little cu — Kamilah?”

All eyes turn to watch the rest of them enter. Nadya watches the Baron go a violent shade of red at the sight of Adrian — but when his eyes land on Jax he’s positively ready to burst.

“You! Clanless whelp! How fucking dare —”

He cuts off like something out of a film. There’s nothing else to do, though, what with Isseya suddenly at his back with two dangerously strong hands pressing down on his shoulders. Nadya knows firsthand just how hard she can squeeze.

Isseya leans down and purrs into the Baron’s ear; “Sssh… I’m tired of hearing your voice.”

The Baron shuts up.

As they approach the center of the chamber Adrian offers his hand for Valdas to shake.

“Thank you for doing this last favor.”

Valdas doesn’t take it. “Consider this your repayment for bringing Vega to me. I would have loathed having to hunt him down myself.”

It’s enough to draw attention away from the fact that Adrian’s there — Lester looks around as though he’s just now noticing Vega’s absence.

“What have you done?” he barks.

Valdas takes the answer; “Punished the guilty.” then back to Adrian, “Do not call upon us again. Unless… you wish to repeat La Soirée.”

The cavern’s sudden silence is deafening as Valdas cups Adrian’s jaw in hand and presses a firm and chaste kiss to his lips. Even Adrian isn’t sure how to respond — simply stands there and accepts it rather than giving back. There’s an almost seductive quality to the way Valdas strokes Adrian’s bottom lip with his thumb before pulling away.

“Come, my love.” He calls for Isseya with a crooked arm. She’s gone from the Baron’s space in a blur — but not before stealing a far less innocent kiss from Adrian as well — to take Valdas’ arm in hers.

As they pass Isseya turns to watch Nadya with bright eyes — their endless depths showing only one thing: hunger.

“Enjoy your gift.” She whispers.

The Trinity leaves — and every person present watches them go.

What gift she means Nadya doesn’t know. But she can’t shake the feeling that they’ll meet again.

Or is it that they’ve met before?

The spell breaks as soon as the vampires of New York are left alone. Fangs on the edge of bearing, sides already being taken. The tension is a thick fog and it’s just shy of choking them all.

Kamilah assumes the rigid posture of the eldest and addresses them calmly. “Adam is dead.”

“Yeah,” Priya snorts, “we figured that much out for ourselves.”

“I won’t say he didn’t deserve it. He was willing to do the same to me for his own ends.” counters Adrian firmly.

“He wasn’t guilty of Council treason.”

The look Adrian gives Lester is colder than Nadya’s ever seen in him.

“Neither was — am — I. He and my former VP conspired together to blame me for their own ends.” A shadow crosses his expression and Nadya’s heart leaps a beat or two. “Nicole only cared about being Turned. I still don’t know exactly what Vega got out of framing me… but I was framed.

“I admitted to everything I did behind your backs. To experimenting on Ferals, to hiring the Nighthunters. But Vega used my research to Turn other vampires Feral and placed everyone at the Ball at risk.”

Priya rolls her eyes. “Why would he put himself in that kind of danger?”

“Because he was insane.”

“Or stupid…” Lester mutters. And Nadya’ll give him that.

“He used everyone. He used the Trinity’s clout to make me seem guilty and used your fear of the situation and our infighting to turn you to his side.”

“And if you’re still there,” warns Kamilah, “I’ll have you join him.”

Her threat isn’t thinly veiled in the slightest. But neither is her strength; which she wears like a proud cloak in front of the Council. No one says anything against her.

“Pssht, infighting…” the Baron mutters under his breath the, but before Kamilah can make good on her words Adrian throws out an arm to stay her hand.

“If you don’t see it then you’re only blinding yourself,” he insists, “because I think something like this was a long time coming. Think about it — we formed this Council not out of want but out of necessity. At the time we didn’t even like each other. The only thing that bound us all together was —”

“Getting Gaius out of the way and saving our own skins?” offers Lester. And Adrian nods.

“— Yes. The Council was the only thing between order and a chaos that could have destroyed everything. And I believe Vega sought to bring that chaos back to form. Trust me… I would have much rather had him stand trial for his crimes.”

But he had to go and run afoul of the Trinity. Somehow Nadya feels it linger among them all. The five left standing. No one has to say it. No one wants to.

“So what now?” That the question comes from Priya is enough to make Nadya wonder if she’s dreaming. “We’ve never had to pick a new Council member before. Do we divvy up his shit?” Her grin widens. “Momma could use a new mansion…”

Adrian refuses her steadfast. “No. And we don’t need to pick a new member.”

The Baron growls. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Don’t you see the opportunity we have before us?”

“The fuck you talkin’ about, boy?”

“I’m talking about a chance to make real, lasting change. Not out of desperation but out of recognizing that our system is flawed.”

“You think democracy is flawed?” Lester blinks in astonishment.

But Adrian’s on a roll. No longer filled with the darkness of his trial and false incrimination but something else. It’s the first time Nadya’s seen the real him shine through since this all began and it gives her a rush of hope.

“Of course not. But our rules just don’t fit with the times. We need to embrace the new world and we’re going to start,” he steps aside and gestures to Jax, “by righting our earliest wrongs. We’re going to start with the Clanless.”

There’s opposition at first.

Priya threatens to tear out Jax’s heart; “no matter how pretty he is.” The Baron barks out half a declaration of war — but only half, since Jax gives him a surprisingly calm reminder of his Clan’s business with Jax’s own people and how that very same business was the reason Adrian was able to escape his execution in the first place.

Lester is the quietest of them all; the most willing to hear out the possibilities. Even so, Nadya knows the gears turning in his head are just trying to figure out how to turn the situation to his advantage. And if that’s what it takes then she’s down with it.

Nobody wants a war — that’s what it comes down to. The one thing they all agree on. Whether they have too much to lose, have fought too many wars already, or don’t want innocents in the crossfire; there’s something holding each one of them back.

And that’s a better place to start than she thought they’d have.

At some point they start arguing about which rules to change and which to keep — that’s when Nadya stops giving in to her exhaustion. When the Baron tries selfishly claiming Vega’s assets for himself she thinks closing her eyes for a minute won’t hurt.

Then there’s a cool tickle against her forehead. Initially she resists… but okay, things could be a little more comfortable — is that stone she’s leaning on because her back feels terrible.

Nadya’s bleary eyes open to the sight of Jax and Adrian near the cavern stairs.

“Come by my office tomorrow at sunset and we’ll draw up the paperwork.” Adrian says with his hands in those borrowed jeans pockets. Things will be back to normal when he’s back in his suits.

“I told you,” argues Jax, “I don’t do paperwork.”

Adrian sighs — looks like he debates trying to press the issue but he lets Jax go without another word.

The tickle returns and Nadya glances to see Kamilah off to her side. Tender touches brushing wisps of hair out of her eyes. She likes this side of the woman; the way her eyes pull her in like puddles of melted chocolate.

Mmm…. Chocolate.

“What about it?” Kamilah’s lips quirk and that’s when Nadya realizes she said that aloud.

“Uh… nothing. Nothing. What happened? Where’s…?”

“Gone,” Kamilah answers before she can even finish asking, “placated… for now.”

Kamilah wordlessly helps her stand and get her bearings. Nadya rubs her eyes and looks to see Adrian smiling at her near the entrance.

“Does that mean we —” —yawn— “— we won?”

It takes a nudge but Kamilah stays at her side as they start to leave.

“I believe so.”

It’s not enough to give her the energy to wake. But it’s still something.

“Awesome.”

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bloodnsnowflakes · 4 years

Text

In Dreams She Lies

Ice blue eyes surveyed a haunted land, winter-white knuckles locked hard around frozen steel. Auresta had gone from the crypt in her full death-plate, to a land that had showed her many things, and whispered many more.

Close to her she kept a crystalline teardrop, hardened forever in shining perfection, dropped from the eyes of a despairing Drust and found ages later by the Bloody Snowflake. It was a sweet friend, this shiny treasure she kept. She felt that she ought to do what seemed only right, find whatever was left of whoever had made the Drust weeper cry... and make them cry and cry, and cry.

~*~*~*~

Two men and a woman in armor surrounded another woman on her knees in a dress. The moist earth made her dress messy. Her situation made her black hair even messier. They had her limbs wrapped in chains of silver, barking questions at her. Not a terribly curious or strange scene for living humans, but the way that the Snowflake’s crystal teardrop reacted to it made her stop and watch.

With every strike that landed on the bound woman from her interrogators, the teardrop’s inner light pulsed in protest. Finally one drew a sword, its edges gleaming with silver, and the crystal wailed in Auresta’s mind. She had seen enough.

A swift yank of her outstretched hand brought the one with the sword flying through the air to roughly land right in front of her. Her icy, wild-eyed grin bewildered him for only a moment, before one of her swords went through his gut and the other displaced his head. As the carcass slid from her blades and slumped to the ground, she drew a fist and threw a punch in the direction of the other two armored humans, standing in front of the woman on the ground. An icy wind howled through the trees to blast them in the faces with the motion. They were not long in succumbing to the bite of her frost and and her steel.

The silver-bound woman lay panting on the ground. Auresta’s crystal teardrop pulsed a light that... matched her breathing? What? The Bloody Snowflake brought forth her treasure, lifting it in the palm of her hand towards the woman’s face, and then away again. Twice. Three times. Sure enough, every time it came closer to the dark-haired human on the ground, the teardrop grew brighter, felt happier, as if it had found home.

Auresta stared for a long while, ice-blue eyes regarding her silent human companion, processing... Until her face split into a grin, and she hugged the woman close as she squealed, “I found you!”

~*~*~*~

It had been about three weeks that Auresta had stayed with Dyan. She only knew this because living humans had a need to measure passing time, apparently. The delightful witch was a good friend to her, full of bitterness towards her enemies and even to her own family, and it was Auresta’s great pleasure to wreak havoc on them all in her name. She often brought back their corpses to Dyan, and they would carve up the flesh and bones together.

The Snowflake had smiled as she watched the witch bind some of their souls into woven wicker servants, with stag-skull faces which Auresta had brought her. (Actually, she’d brought her the whole stags, as Dyan had the tedious need to eat for sustenance and not just pleasure, poor thing). The Kul Tiran had noticed the smile. “What? You like them?”

Auresta’s fond smile widened a little, “They remind me of the dolls he makes.” She didn’t explain who he was, just that he was gone for now and had promised to come back for her. That he was changed, but it didn’t change that he loved her. She couldn’t wait for him to come home so he could meet her delightful new witch!

~*~*~*~

“Do you know what you were before?” Dyan asks.

“Before what?” Auresta replies, confused.

“Before you became what you are now.”

Auresta frowns. “I was me,” she answers. “I’ve always been me.”

“I mean before you were you,” tries Dyan.

This was getting frustrating. “That makes no sense!”

Dyan chuckles warmly, patiently. “Here, let me try something,” she murmurs. Trustingly, Auresta inches closer to comply.

Ancient words flow from the Drust-descended’s lips, calling on the earth and shadows, weaving their energies to reach gently in to her undead elf friend’s being. Two work-weathered fingertips touch the center of her snow-white forehead, and the magic peels away at the fog of darkness...

Until Auresta screams.

Broken images, feelings, and voices froth in the elf’s head. Names and faces she doesn’t know, but does. She sees herself, but not herself - a sun-touched Thalassian beauty, with honey-gold hair and eyes like the ocean.

It’s not me... It’s not me! ... What am I?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!

The pain in her head threatens to burst out her eyes and ears. Stabbing shards of things she knows but doesn’t recognize, too unbearable in their jaggedness to even begin to piece together.

Kill me! End it! I don’t want this!

Her fingers scrabble blindly for something, anything to make it all stop...

KILL ME!

... and then oblivion takes her.

~*~*~*~

Dyan Witherstead stood on the glacial ground, her face solemn, stony, but her heart full of sadness and regrets. On a sled, she pulled the body of the unliving elf who had rescued her, made her life less bleak, her ritual dagger sticking out of the poor thing’s heart.

It was the only thing that halted the magic Dyan had called upon to try to help heal the undead elf’s memories... not knowing that the damage done from the decay to her mind after her first mortal death made such a task insurmountable. Not knowing the confusion of trying to repair them would bring agony rather than clarity.

The witch came to a stop in the center of Gol Koval, ancient capital of her Drust ancestors, and one of the few ruins still left standing in peace. She incanted a greeting and a summoning to the spirits residing here, asking for their counsel. Some came as figures of twisted Nature, others as wispy wraiths. They listened.

“What can be done for her?” Dyan pleaded. “She has saved and served your daughter, faithfully, unconditionally. What can I do?”

The Drust spirits regarded their descendant and the lifeless, winter-white elf. “Oblivion would be kindest,” spoke one. “Let her sleep,” said another. “Take her to the glacier, in the mountains above,” rumbled the nearest. “There, she will be undisturbed.”

“What of her soul?” Dyan had to ask.

“What soul?” Was the answer the spirits gave. “Her soul has been in the Shadowlands since her first death, her soul is not here.”

“Where?” Dyan felt a rising panic. “Where in the Shadowlands is it?” She had to know. She could not let her friend be lost.

The spirits sighed between themselves, but ultimately decided to indulge their daughter. “You may come to fetch it, if you wander the woods of Thros. She will sleep well if you keep her in one of the charms we bless and curse for you.” Dyan nodded, and began her trudge up into the mountains, pulling Auresta’s form behind her.

~*~*~*~

Dyan sat, weaving thread, wicker, feathers and crystals into what looked like a dream catcher to the night elves.

It was a soul catcher to the people of Drustvar.

She glanced up every so often to look at her friend, Auresta, in repose, the witch’s ritual dagger still embedded in her heart, letting her physical form sleep. The elf was encased in purest ice now, summoned by Dyan’s petition to the spirits of the mountain, preventing her from being disturbed, or the chance that the lich magic which animated her the first time would seep and drain away over time. Couldn’t allow that, to have her fade away, decay further. She looked glorious, like in a story.

Dyan briefly clutched the crystal teardrop that hung from her neck. She had divined through her dark arts that it was a tear that had been shed by herself in a former life, when the ancient Gilnean settlers had made landfall in Kul Tiras at Drustvar, and assimilated the Drust into their people after conquering them. Her past Drust self had wept and wailed in despair as her home was desecrated... and somehow destiny twisted and turned to place the manifestation of that agony and sorrow in the hands of this exquisite risen elf, to find her again.

I found you!

Dyan took in a long, cold breath and sighed, laying her cheek on the ice block over Auresta’s face. “I go now to Thros to find you, and when I return, you will rest well forever,” she promised in a whisper. She truned her head and placed a soft kiss upon the ice. “Sleep well, Snowflake.”

~*~*~*~

@lokkiir @drustvarhardrock

#story #canon #character death #Wyrmrest Accord #Warcraft

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cloudidiot · 5 years

Text

this is what i like to call

a big waste of my time. but it was fun and im still gonna make 2 more (but tomorrow)

—————————————————————

Zeta: Wishful Dusk

A human-turned-weapon that pushed away from her fate and helped save worlds with her friends by her side. She is cautious but kind to all, and her water-like wings give off a cool, soothing feeling.

Lance. Physical weapon. Range: 1. Damage reduced by foe’s Def

Flying unit. Can move two spaces. Ignores forests, mountains, rivers, etc., when moving.

Base Stats: (Max. Lvl. 40)

Hp- 45

Atk- 29 (w/o weapon)/ 45 (with weapon)

Spd- 30

Def- 34

Res- 38

Weapon- Tsuki Crystal

Mt 16 Rng 1

If unit is adjacent to an ally, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+4 during combat. If a skill like Sing or Dance is used, grants bonus on target ally’s Atk/Spd/Def/Res = highest bonus on target ally for 1 turn.

Assist- Sing

Rng 1

Grants another action to target ally (Cannot target an ally with Sing or Dance)

Special- Glacies

Boosts damage by 80% of unit’s Res.

A Skill- Distant Counter

Unit can counterattack regardless of foe’s range.

B Skill- None (Recommended Skill- Quick Riposte 3)

C Skill- Teardrop Melody

At start of turn, grants allies within 2 spaces Atk+5, Def+6 and heals 10 Hp to all allies. (Excludes unit.)

S Seal- (Recommended Seal- Iote’s Shield or Distant Def 3)

Quotes:

“My name is Zeta and I hail from a different world much different from this. I may be from some place different, but I hope my skills can still help”

“So you’re the only summoner of this world as well as a tactician? Must be hard for you. Need some help?”

“I can see that my... wings must look weird . It’s something that I’m still getting used to...”

“Hmm. I can sense that there are more people from my world that are here in this world. Wait... could they be here?”

#aaaaaaaaaaand im going to sleep #also. yay. fake fe heroes unit for zeta #i hate the fact that it took me 4 hours to make it but fuck it.#and by 4 hours i mean it took me like. 2 1/2 hours to come up with names....... rip #ok goodnight y’all #cloud says shit #zeta

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acrosstimeandspace · 5 years

Text

Wandering Girl

(Currently Jin is my biggest f/o, and I wanted to write Fae’s backstory as to how she met and grew close with him and the others! This is going to be in several parts all tagged as #wandering girl)

It was rather cold when the Marsanes had landed in the south, near where Tantal was rumored to be. There were rumors of core crystals popping up around this area, so they had decided to see if they could rescue any. However, no one expected a tiny girl to pop up onto their ship’s deck the third day they had been there.

Jin had walked out onto the deck to get some fresh air when he saw her covered lightly in some of the snow that was falling. She looked like she was freezing, curled up into a ball with a frown upon her face. She bore a few deep gashes, including one on her head, that stained some of the snow around her red. Her blonde hair looked sticky with blood, and she was barely breathing. But her face looked like she was still fighting, even in her near death state.

Jin wasn’t one to care for humans, after all that he had seen all he felt was mostly hatred towards them. This looked like another tally to add, a small girl dumped on a foreign ship nearly dead. He was tempted to save her, but he shouldn’t. His end goal was to kill all the humans. She was just one of them, right? Another selfish human. But the part of him that remembered the small girl he defended when he was first awoken caused him to go closer to the girl.

He was right about the defiant look. Her brow was creased as she fought to breathe, shallow breaths being all she was capable of. Strangely, she had a pointed ear peaking out from her messy hair. They weren’t really common on humans, much more often they were seen on Blades. Could she be like them? He had to find out.

He gently scooped her up in his arms, he noted that she was much lighter than she should be, and carried her back into the warmth of the ship.

“Hey Jin!” Called out a cheery Mikhail. “I thought you’d already left u- woah there who’s that?!”

He jumped around Jin to look at the girl in his arms. “I found her on the deck. She needs to be healed. I don’t think she’s human.”

Mikhail shook his head. “She’s so tiny.”

“I know, that’s why we need to hurry. It looks like she’s lost a lot of blood already.”

She was quickly put into a healing pod, by the two, and started the process of healing. Her wounds seemed rather deep, the process would be slow. “She looks so tiny, so young.” Mikhail blanched. “Who could have done such a thing?”

“Humans, who else.” Jin stated evenly. “I will stay here and watch her, you go look with the others. Tell them about our discovery.”

Mikhail looked ready to question, before shaking his head. “Well, alright. I will. Just make sure to monitor her. We don’t know how she’ll react when she wakes up.”

“I know, now go.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•───── ─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

It was near dusk before the others had returned, storming into the room where Jin sat with the girl. It looked like she would take at least a few more hours before she was fully healed.

“Why do we have someone, possibly a human, here?!” Patroka exclaimed as she got close. “They’re our enemy, aren’t they?!”

“Hey! As I said before, It’s possible that she isn’t! Plus, look at her! She’s a little injured kid!” Mikhail sighed.

Malos scoffed, “Sure, a kid. Either way it’s still a human.”

Mikhail whined, “C’mon, just look at her!” He walked up to her pod as he pointed. The small girl looked more relaxed but her injuries were still apparent. “She looks like she couldn’t hurt a fly! She’s so scrawny!”

“I decided to have her healed,” Jin stood, “I think she’s not human. Though I saw no core crystal on her chest. It could be somewhere else, though. I thought healing her was more important than looking.”

Malos shook his head. “You’re always doing stuff like this, you’re still too nice for your own good. What are we going to do if she’s human?”

“She wouldn’t be here if she was.” Jin said softly. He reached over and tapped her pod. “She should be done in a few hours. Then we’ll see.”

Malos walked away, arms crossed as if he were pouting. “We might as well see how it plays out, huh? Who knows, could be interesting.”

Mikhail threw his hands into the air as if he were cheering, and did a small dance as Jin shook his head. “It most definitely will be interesting, Malos. It definitely will be.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•───── ─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

It was around the middle of the night, and Jin leaned back against the wall as he read by the slight light of the rooms’s electronics. It was a calming quiet as he rested. Suddenly, the pod made a creaking noise as a figure stumbled out of it.

Jin stood up slowly as he watched the girl stumble sleepily out of her pod. Her hair was still a bit matted where her gash was, a good wash and brush would fix that, and her eyes looked to be a bit glazed over as if she had just woken up from a long sleep. She stumbled over, and Jin quickly caught her. She still felt too small.

She straightened up, with a bit of his help, as she looked up at him. She rubbed her eyes with a her right hand as she used her left to support herself on him. “Umm, hi...” Came her soft voice. “Do I know you?”

Jin shook his head, “No, why?”

“I don’t know... I thought you might know. Do you know who I am? My head is all fuzzy.” She used her free hand to rub her forehead, her brow creasing. “Feels like I took a hammer to everywhere.”

“You don’t remember?” Jin said softly. The pod was great at healing physical wounds, but those of the mind where another matter entirely. “You probably need to eat.”

Jin gently picked up the small girl in the way he had before, and in response she wrapped her arms around his neck. He started to walk towards the dining area as she leaned into him with a sleepy look on her face. “Food sounds good. So does sleep..”

“First food then sleep, alright?” The small girl gave a week nod. “Do you remember anything?”

She looked away, her nose scrunching up in thought. “My name... My name is... Fae? F..Fae... My name is Fae. What’s yours?” The girl, Fae, looked up at him curiously.

Jin gave her a kind smile. “I’m Jin. Can you remember anything else?”

Fae scrunched up her nose in thought again, a cute trait. “Um... I think someone was chasing me. I remember running and fear,” Jin nodded for her to continue, “I can’t remember anything else... Oh wait! I think I’m um, I’m eighteen? Hmm... It’s still so fuzzy...”

Jin blinked. Eighteen? She barely looked twelve, let alone an adult. “It’s okay, it may take a while. When I found you you were badly injured. Ah, we’re here. Let me set you down.”

Jin sat Fae down at a the table, her legs dangling, too short to reach the ground even though she was in a chair. She couldn't be eighteen, she’s much too small. “I’m going to go heat dinner up for you, okay?”

Fae nodded and turned to watch Jin mess with the kitchen supplies. He looked like he sort of knew what he was doing, as if he had cooked a long while before, but it had been too long to properly remember. She stared at his back as thoughts wracked her head. ‘Is he the only one here? And where am I exactly? Well, at least Jin seems nice, he’s been so kind to me for the fact that we’re strangers.’

In what felt like a few minutes for the girl, a plate was sat gently in front of her. It was full of crisp vegetables mixed into rice with some fish. “It’s simple, but it’s got all of what you need. So eat up.”

“Thank you, Jin,” Fae smiled up at him before digging in. Jin had called the meal simple, but to the hungry girl it was heavenly. She put a giant spoonful into her mouth only to choke on it.

“Slow down now, don’t eat it all in one breath,” Jin said in a teasing tone as he passed her a glass of water.

She drank some of it and then looked up at Jin. “Thank you, and sorry. It’s really good.”

He pat the top of her head gently, “It’s no problem, I’m glad that you like it Fae.”

They sat through the rest of the meal in silence as she calmly ate. She had a wide smile as she chewed, as if she were in pure bliss. Jin was glad that he decided to rescue her, however there came up the issue of her being human. As she finished he asked, “Do you know what Blades are?”

“Blades? You mean like the thing on the end of swords and daggers and stuff?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“No. Well sort of. I mean the type of life forms that Drivers use.”

“Life forms that people use?” She frowned. “No, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.”

Jin shifted to face her, “Well, Blades are awakened by a Driver who has their core crystal. Blades can reject Drivers, of course, and they create weapons for their Drivers to use in battle. You can tell who is a Blade because they have a core crystal somewhere on their body.”

Fae shook her head. “A core crystal? What do those look like?”

“Usually they’re blue and they have a sort of glow to them, why?”

Fae pulled out a necklace from under her shirt. There hanging on it was a glowing teardrop shaped blue-green crystal wrapped by a small wire tied to the necklace. “Well, I remember this crystal. But, I don’t think it makes any weapons. None that I know of, at least.”

Jin gently took the necklace from Fae. The crystal didn’t look like any core crystal he had seen, nor did it feel like one. But there was no denying there was some sort of energy coming from it. “I don’t think this is one. Perhaps I can have one of the others show you theirs... I’ll have Maos look at this later, if that is okay with you.”

Despite his words, he handed the crystal back to Fae. “Of course, but what do you mean by the others? Do you have Blades?” Her shoulders bunched together and she eyed him wearily. He appreciated that she also seemed to disapproved of the way Blades were treated.

“No, we are Blades, well mostly.” Jin explained. “We are what you would call Flesh Eaters, Blades that have been fused with human cells. We do not need Drivers because of this.”

She blinked owlishly at him and relaxed her shoulders. He didn’t know what drove him to tell her the truth, but he felt like it was the right thing to do. “Oh. Fused with... Were you experimented on?” She could see no other reason as to why this would occur.

“Some of us, yes. But I, well I would rather not talk about it.” He looked at her sadly as he remembered his previous Driver.

Fae nodded, “I understand, Jin,” she reached towards him and gently put a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “I am here if you would like to talk about anything, alright?”

He gave her a weak smile. “I should be the one saying that to you, Fae. But thank you.” He gave her head another gentle pat. “Now let’s get you to bed. You need to rest.”

He picked her up again, and he felt like this would become a trend between the two of them, not that he minded. He would come back for the dishes later, probably. She wrapped her arms around his neck again. “Okie dokie. Where will I be sleeping?”

He froze mid step. He hadn’t thought about that. “Well, we don’t have any other rooms prepared, so I guess with me.”

Fae, who was too full from her meal and sleepy to care, just nodded happily. “That sounds really nice.”

He gave her a smile as she proceeded to fall asleep in his arms. He was confident that saving her was a good decision. He would be less so confident of leaving the dishes out the next morning when Patroka would come into his room to yell at him, though.

#wandering girl #my writing #love letters #snowdrop #jin #self insert #self shipping #self ship #fae aureliana micheli

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