#cadenza of mercy

[xerith-42]

but do they every find a way to keep laurance alive that doesn’t drain the energy of his friends and do they ever find a way to wake up vylad?

CW for this post: Mercy killing, lots of violence in general, and some suicidal tendencies for good measure

Depends on how optimistic I'm feeling. In the bleakest version of events, Vylad and Vincent both get mercy killed, and Laurance and Zenix decide of their own volition to take their own lives.

Vincent is the first to go. I think Cadenza made the final say on Vincent, knowing that he would rather the story be a noble death on the battlefield, and he'd hate to exist in such a miserable state. He'd much rather let another guard take over and do an even better job than he ever did. She's clearly grief stricken over this, but she's able to stomach it because she knew him well enough to know this is what he would have wanted.

Despite being friendly with Laurance and leading a rebellion with him, Zenix can't stick around the group. He can't even fathom the idea of looking his former lord or his former mentor in the eye. Zenix is unable to sustain himself, but he comes to peace with his own death after a life of regrets, hoping he'll do it better next time.

Vylad and Laurance on the other hand...

I think to everyone's surprise it would be Zianna who brings up the idea of just putting Vylad out of his misery. She can't stand to see him like this anymore, but Garroth is still stubbornly holding onto the idea that they can bring his brother back. He really doesn't have any leads on the matter, but he can't stand to think of watching his brother die for a second time.

A fed up and frustrated Laurance makes the decision for him. Laurance can't stand to literally feed of his friends life energy. He already felt like an incredible burden on those around him before this happened, it's only gotten worse over time. He takes himself and Vylad out in one fell swoop. No need for anymore time to be wasted on them.

But there's always a brighter timeline that could exist. I mean, we never knew who had Kul'zak's relic or where it even is. Relics are basically condensed magic, one of them could sustain Laurance for an entire lifetime and then some, but there's a lot of challenges. First they have to find the damn thing, and then there's only a chance it actually bonds with Laurance and gives him that energy.

If it bonded with Vylad, it would also likely be able to bring him back to a state of living. It would be far from perfect, definitely the closest to a reanimated corpse as he ever has been, cold skin, no heartbeat, no breathing, but there's life. He can move. He can speak. He can love. He's effectively back, but his body is more of an uncertainty than it's ever been.

But there's only one of those relics. All the others have already bonded with someone. And it could bond to someone completely different and leave both of them with no hope. Because shadow knights were made by someone who once had the power of a relic, I think only a relics direct power can save them. Only a relic bonded to their life force has a chance of bringing them back.

[im-obsess-with-pixel-characters]

Making up more random ass scenario cuz I can and in school

Scen.1 }

Pov; the waf cast gets stranded in Indonesia and has no idea how to speak the language

Katelyn; we are lost and doomed

Aphmau; You can say that again

Lucinda; Travis put yourself to use please

Travis; apa pulang kam nyerang aku sama ini jir

Garroth; what did he just say?

Aphmau; I have no idea

Zane; is that even the language?

Scen.2 }

Pov; Hero, villain, vigilante au

H!(name) = hero

V!(name) = villain

G!(name) = vigilante

C!(name) = civilian

H!aphmau; we're never gonna catch these guys

H!Garroth; c'mon be a bit more enthusiast! We'll catch them eventually

G!Laurance; oh please, you needed a vigilantes help to catch emerald blue (Ein)

C!Vylad; correction we needed everyone's help that we can get

G!Zane; we did have a common enemy

C!Cadenza; why did you guys drag civilians into this?

H!Lucinda; yea I kinda don't understand that they're only related to Villains,Heros, and vigilantes

H!Melissa; like we said, the more the merrier and besides even for not being villains heros nor vigilantes you all have powerful abilities

G!Katelyn; yea gotta give it to y'all you were powerful

G!Travis; Can we like, go back home now?

H!Dante; I wouldn't mind if we stayed here a bit longer~

V!Gene; okay no that's stupid, knight (Dante) we are going home

G!Sasha; Yea let's go Gem star (Travis)

G!Travis; Cya knight~

H!Dante; *giggling to himself*

H!katelyn; Ew love

C!Cadenza; I think they're cute!

G!Laurance; you think every couple is cute

H!Teony; True

Scen.3 }

Pov;the not alone buddeis + Dante & Sasha gets stuck in a haunted asylum

Vylad; we are so going to die here alone!

Aphmau; w-we'll be fine! We'll just have to..stick together! Yea yea stick together!

Dante; I'm so scared right now..

Travis; why?

Sasha; I should've brought my séance gear

Dante; you shouldn't even have that!

Travis; I have candles and chalk in my bag

Aphmau; WHY TF DO YOU HAVE CANDLE AND CHALK?!?!??

Travis; I always carry candles and chalk around!

Vylad; we are dying in this asylum

Scen.4 }

Pov; it's game night for the lovers lane cast

Gene; *stuck in silent jail*

Sasha; *ready to murder everyone in the room*

Zenix; *just chilling with his 10th property*

Katelyn; *bout to rage*

Lucinda; *is actually dying inside*

Aaron; *somehow has so much money*

Aphmau; *is way to competitive to have mercy*

Zane; *is like half asleep*

Garroth; *really feels like throwing the game board out the window*

Laurance; *the one that actually threw the Uno cards out the window last game*

Dante; *is just scrolling through his phone in the corner*

Travis; *is actually asleep in Dante's arm without realising*

I love making these

[flameaurasphere]

"Miserere mei, Deus” by Gregorio Allegri

Gregorio Allegri (c. 1582-1652) was a late Renaissance composer, best remembered for his ‘Miserere’ for two choirs. Allegri began singing in San Luigi dei Francesi before joining the Sistine Choir in 1629. Renaissance music was built upon plainchants, and is characterised by polyphony, imitation, motets, superimpositions, and overlapping cadences that convey flow, expressiveness, and devotion. ‘Miserere’ exemplifies Renaissance polyphony—one choir of five voices sings a fauxbourdon of a plainchant for the Tonus peregrinus, while the other choir of four voices supplies with elaborations and cadenzas, forming a 9-part polyphony.

Sistine Codex of 1661

‘Miserere’ is an acapella performed exclusively during Holy Week in the Sistine Chapel for ages. The church forbade it from being transcribed, so while the original 1661 codex might not reflect the true composition, it reveals the secret ornamentation practice of the olden Sistine Chapel Choir.

The Sistine Chapel Choir is a permanent choir in the chapel that never sings with instrument accompaniments. In this historical recording, a group of voices sings the plainchant, and then a second group of voices responds with elaboration. This repeats four times, as Allegri intended. The two choirs are distinct—even without video, one could picture that the second choir is singing far away at another end of a massive room. While I appreciated the contrast as it dynamised the plainchant, the upper voices in the second choir had drowned out the lower voices, resulting in an “airiness”. Nonetheless, the voices were well-blended and captured the essence of Renaissance music—the melodies flowed smoothly with no fixed tempo, and the music was expressive, whereby the soft tenor solos sounded pleading, but the choir in tutti sounded haunting. ‘Miserere’ means "Have mercy on me, O God" in Latin; fittingly, the acoustics of the chapel allowed their voices to echo, amplifying their devotion to God.

King’s College Choir 1963

The world-famous Choir of King’s College, Cambridge sings in the King’s College Chapel. This is one of the first modern recordings, conducted by David Willcocks and featured soloist Roy Goodman. It differs vastly from the original—during the 19th century, ‘Miserere’ was incorrectly transcribed, transposing the solo choir up a fourth.

Although sung in English, this version still preserved the smooth melodies and distribution of rubato in the original 1661 codex. However, it is more textured, dynamic, and exciting. The articulation of words is clearer; the tenors used a higher vocal placement to produce a more lightweight sound; the basses were audibly growing louder and softer, shaping a slow push-and-pull melody; the boy sopranos pierced through with their resonance and agility in the ornamented lines. Nevertheless, the pièce de resistance is boy treble Goodman’s breath-taking high notes during the second half of the four-voice falsobordone. Though his entry was a little shaky, the transition to the “top C” note was slick and precise, with a slight crescendo and close-to-none sliding. It is astonishing how Goodman sustained those notes—four times—without sounding strained; his pure and aethereal voice quality cannot be replicated by a female soprano. The high notes are my favourite part in contemporary ‘Miserere’, and I have yet to hear one as moving as Goodman

Ofra Harnoy

Ofra Harnoy is a widely celebrated classical cellist with over 40 solo albums. This recording is part of her ‘Back to Bach’ album, filled with Baroque favourites. Harnoy’s vision was to design a large cello ensemble by herself. To attain that effect, she harnessed the power of technology to overdub and produce multi-tracks.

I thought Harnoy’s work was innovative—the mixing and mastering were done so well that with eyes closed, her arrangement did seem like a grand cello ensemble. The tempo was a bit slower than the original 1661 codex and King’s College Choir 1963 recording, but that allowed the strings to ring longer, hence extending the crescendos and decrescendos. Additionally, the lower parts are more discernible than in the previous recordings. The rich bass and use of vibrato dramatised the music, creating a hauntingly beautiful and poignant experience. The high notes did not overpower, unlike in the King’s College Choir 1963 version, hence highlighting the polyphony.

One might think that Harnoy made her cello sing, but I felt that she transformed ‘Miserere’ into a cello piece. My only critique is that all the verses should have been recorded, to demonstrate how each verse differs in the embellishments—for example, the appoggiaturas sung by the higher sections.

Montechait

Montechait is a YouTuber who does piano cover videos and arrangements. He played on a Studiologic SL88 Studio keyboard, then produced and edited the audio using Pianoteq and Cubase software. 

The pitches were not the most precise in the original 1661 codex and King’s College 1963 recordings. Hence, the pitch-perfect keyboard demonstrated how the melodies could sit with one another to deliver chords that assert gloom. I enjoyed that the ending verse was in forte, emphasising the volume of a 9-part polyphony. But this performance lacked expressiveness, which is quintessential to Renaissance music. Despite Pianoteq being one of the greatest virtual instruments that simulate the playability of an acoustic instrument, the recording had a largely manufactured sound. Furthermore, the piano is limited in the expressive shaping of notes as it does not offer dynamic nuance or vibrato.

I learnt that every performer has a unique story to tell in ‘Miserere’—whether it is of worship by the Sistine Codex of 1661, of tradition by the King’s College Choir, of beauty by Ofra Harnoy’s soul-stirring cello, or melancholy by Montechait’s solemn keyboard. In my opinion, the key change from G minor to C minor—due to scribal error—echoes the famous saying: “There are no mistakes, just happy accidents.” ~Bob Ross.

[pbjelly90art]

Spaceverse art!

Okay so I haven't decided exactly how I'm organizing these yet, but here's my first batch of the Spaceverse art posts! I've got a backlog of at least 205+ artworks to archive for this, so I had to get started somewhere. This is the original RP (and basis for my novel in progress) that I write with my friend Sakume, dating back some years now (maybe since 2019?) I don't have a title for the novel yet, so this is simply known as Spaceverse for now.

These characters originally came from some old forums we wrote on (circa 2006 at the start), and one day I came up with a new AU for them in a completely new space fantasy setting, with a new plot and new origins for the characters. I asked my friends Sakume and Cookie to participate, and this story was born. Cookie no longer actively writes in this RP with us, but some of their characters still show up in the art here and I'm very grateful for their contributions.

Sakume and I still write together and are adding new characters all the time! :) I grouped this batch of art to include sketches that mainly featured characters hailing from the planet of Illumina or the moon sanctuary of Nova Lux.

In order here we have: sketches of Cadenza, Altair/Vivace (her sister in the novel version, unrelated in the RP but may retcon, also Fabi/Alex's late mom and Anton's late wife), then Cadenza's daughter Luisa and a sketch of Cadenza in prison back on the Vault where it all started. Then we have Luisa and (spoiler!) young/child form Dawa, Cadenza with Adam, Adam himself, and then a bunch of sketches of their family together. Following that, we have Queen Venus (aka Elena), Cadenza's mom Sonya, Sonya with Leona, Xiulan, sketches of Cadenza and a masked Xiulan, Mingzhu, Joan (not an Illumin character but hey she ended up on my sketch page back then), older/adult form Dawa, young Dawa, Mingzhu, Cadenza's dad Galliard, Louis (another non-Illumin here to fit page space), Cadenza's sister Luminari, Cadenza herself, Lu with her husband Jaster, Simha (revamped character to replace Leona) and then Cascadia Riveria (Faer character, but happened to be on that sketchbook page.) Then lastly a few pencil sketches I missed, Xiulan, Mercy with Ramiro, Luminari and Cadenza, and some of my initial concept sketches of Spaceverse Cadenza and Luisa.

At the very end, we have some much older sketches that predate this RP, with Mother Carla, Ancient Ren of the Order, and Cadenza's late husband Paris (along with a sketch of Cadenza from a previous story where she was a human mage with shadow magic), previous versions of Vivace, Algretta, Luminari, Arietta, Cadenza, Sonya, Galliard, Reymundo, Izumi, Xiulan, Sarai (an angelo who hasn't appeared in the RP yet, but I might adapt), Shui Ya of Nova Lux, and Fletcher (a Faer character, but he happened to be on this page.) I still need to draw many of these characters some new portraits as their phantasm selves in this storyverse/setting, but I'm saving these older drawings for reference.

Some characters are going to show up that don't quite fit into these groupings because I tend to just draw whoever I feel like on my paper that fits before scanning them in. x3 Sometimes I edit them after to reorganize, but often times not.

Adam and Jaster belong to Sakume, and Leona and Joan belong to Cookie. The rest of the characters belong to me, but big credit to both of my friends for their help developing the world, organizations and characters, particularly in this case, Cookie brainstorming the Order of Lux Aeterna/Nova Lux with me, and Sakume brainstorming so many of the Vault characters and more.

Also small side note: I've been using the surname "Madrigal" since 2006 for Cadenza and her family waaay back on Zelda Universe forums, but I'm super happy it's way more popular a name now thanks to Encanto and I do love that movie. The movie was in no way a basis for these names, but I love to see more Latin culture and names in media, so I'm all for it. ^_^

[lamilanomagazine]

Torino: controllo straordinario della Polizia di Stato nell'area Barriera Nizza. Sanzioni per oltre 38mila euro

Torino: controllo straordinario della Polizia di Stato nell'area Barriera Nizza. Sanzioni per oltre 38mila euro. Durante il fine settimana la squadra della Polizia Amministrativa del Commissariato di P.S. Barriera Nizza, con la collaborazione della Polizia Municipale e dell'Ispettorato del Lavoro di Torino, ha effettuato un servizio di controllo straordinario nelle zone limitrofe la stazione ferroviaria di Porta Nuova. In particolare nel corso dell'attività sono stati riscontrati diversi illeciti a carico di 6 attività commerciali che hanno portato a sanzioni pari a 38434,32 euro totali. Il primo locale, un night club, è incorso in circa 15mila euro di sanzioni per violazioni riguardanti l'inosservanza delle normative relative alla corretta conservazione della merce e al funzionamento degli impianti di ventilazione. Personale dell'ispettorato del lavoro ha accertato la presenza di 7 lavoratori irregolari su un totale di 13 dipendenti. Il titolare è stato sanzionato per un importo di 2500 euro ai quali si aggiungono 1800 euro per ogni lavoratore non in regola. L'attività veniva, inoltre, sospesa fino ad avvenuta regolarizzazione del personale. Il secondo locale è invece un minimarket di via Madama il cui titolare è stato sanzionato per un oltre 6600,00 euro poiché si accertava la mancata interruzione della vendita di alcolici tra le ore 24 e le ore 6 come previsto dalla vigente normativa. Altri due minimarket, rispettivamente in via Nizza e in via Principe Tommaso, sono stati sanzionati, per un totale di 160 euro ciascuno, il primo per vendita di alcolici da asporto dopo le 21 e il secondo perché non si adoperava a dissuadere gli avventori dal tenere comportamenti pregiudizievoli per la tranquillità pubblica. Il titolare di un quarto minimarket, in via San Pio V, è stato invece sanzionato per quasi 15000 euro per non aver comunicato il trasferimento dell'attività, aver posto in vendita prodotti privi di prezzo per unità di prodotto e misura, mancanza del manuale HACCP, mancanza dell'indicazione della provenienza di alcuni alimenti, mancanza del cartello riportante l'orario dell'attività, delle merci erano mal conservate e mal riposte. Infine, il titolare di una pizzeria kebab di Corso Vittorio è stato sanzionato, per quasi 1000 euro, per mancato aggiornamento dei requisiti professionali per poter esercitare l'attività, per carenti condizioni igieniche e per non aver esposto il cartello indicante la cessazione della vendita di alcol dopo le ore 21.00, I controlli, in tutte le aree cittadine, continueranno con cadenza regolare.... #notizie #news #breakingnews #cronaca #politica #eventi #sport #moda Read the full article

[the-howling-storm]

OC-Tober - Day 1: Technique

Read on Ko-fi

OG prompt by slavontherocks on Twitter

A sudden leap backwards, followed by several more to gain necessary distance. His feet landing, dragging his position to a fast halt. Quick math and measurements played out in his head as the air filled with a relative silence. The space between the two was now optimal. All that stood before him...

"There... the perfect runway," grinned Randy. Crouching down, he hunched on all four of his limbs. Back straightened, and shoulders leveled just under his ears. Arms symmetrically propped on the ground by the tip of his fingers. One leg fully extended behind him, while the other bent inward at an angle for smooth transitioning. A runner's stance.

As the tension fills the air... metallic thudding breaks the silence. A rhythmic tap from his far foot, drumming against the floor beneath him. Hypnotic as it is foreboding. A preluding beat, looping over and over, as it awaits the next act.

Even as a child, Randall Jazz knew he had a temper.

A ferocious, bull-like rage that he took difficulty in culling from his nature. Even in his calmest moments, it would take from as his usual stubborn demeanor. Paired with such honed power, such fueled anger could only result in reckless abandonment and destruction. In a way, he could see why many would see him as a demon.

Yet such a weakness, can always be strength. A trump card came to mind. One he'd always dared not to use out of lack of practicality. Both to surroundings, and himself. Yet, a rare opportunity presents itself. Fueled by pride, for victory and his own humanity. Every inch of this body was a trained weapon. Bone, muscle, tissue and blood. A single burst is all he needs. 100% of what he could offer, for just a split second. Right here and now, to prove in this moment...

He can surpass any limit.

"You can hear it... right?" Randy speaks out from his inner thoughts. "Can't you sense that surge? It grows like a raging storm. A force of nature, swelling up in your soul from within. The taste in the air, the adrenaline in your veins, the excitement in your heart... All headed towards a one way course down the road ahead. One shot. One chance. Reach out. Cross the finish line. And break all contradictions that hold you back. That..."

The drumming comes to a quiet stop. For there was no longer a man to carry the rhythm. As the final note struck ears, he vanished forward. As if the laws of sound struggled to register his take off. Lagging behind, as the forceful winds jet outward behind an invisible mad dash.

As eyes and reaction finally correct themselves... the gap has closed. The speed demon returns to vision, staying straight course. Dodging at this stage is impossible. The only option is to block. A head-on collision.

But only an immovable object... can match an irresistible force.

"...is Climax-!!!"

A thunderous tear of pressure. A second wind, that not only dared to threaten the break the barrier of sound... but succeeded. A point blank sonic boom.

It was only a graze. A last minute correction of his sprint to avoid a clean hit. Out of safety to his own life? Or perhaps out of mercy. It mattered not. Deafening force shattering every window in radius of the spreading and dome. The street pavement ripping itself free piece by piece into rubble. What remained intact of the target, sent flying above and shredded by the sudden, sharp air. Randy himself, futilely attempting all attempts at impromptu brakeage against his own momentum, only to thrash and tumble along the coming road.

A high risk, yet high reward last resort. For its name signaled the end.

Climax Act Cadenza: Big Blast Sonic.

[theloniousbach]

BACK TO FUR PEACE RANCH: ACOUSTIC HOT TUNA with Larry Campbell, 5 NOVEMBER 2022

My best laid plans last night were to catch a real time set from Small’s Live by a piano trio led by Kevin Hays who deserves attention, though I sometimes find him a bit too clever for my own good. My jazz listening/writing is the one thing that hasn’t resettled since my sentimental journeys to Santa Fe and Pittsburgh. On the Monday in Santa Fe, I took advantage of the time zone shift to catch Miki Yamanka’s late set in real time and came in the middle of Alan Broadbent (not with Harvie S) before it. Those haven’t made it into one of these souvenirs, so seeing Hays would have allowed a cadenza about them. But I saw no more jazz out west and just the Lew Tabackin and Jeremy Pelt shows over this past week.

Instead there has been the Caffe Lena trad/folk excursion with Bruce Molsky and Beppe Gambetta (so I haven’t suffered). Though I had missed the social media announcement of this show, there it was. We jumped in for the last 45 minutes of the second set, about a third of the total, just as Larry Campbell embarked on Deep Elem Blues.

Having not immediately deleted an announcement that Acoustic Hot Tuna will be in Steelville in about three weeks. It’s a legendary intimate destination venue a couple of hours southeast of St Louis. With housing, it’s north of $200 each. So, no, but reluctantly. But that put this personally important band on my mind yet again.

Looking at the setlist, I regret missing Good Shepherd and That’ll Never Happen No More because I take a stab at as well as several rarities (True Religion, Keep On Truckin’, Highway Song (David Crosby sang on the original and he came up as they tuned into open G for the Water Song encore. In any case he was alive at the time), and Ode for Billy Dean. Campbell sung Police Dog Blues and Big River Blues which would have been fun.

What we did see was a healthy dose of Reverend Gary Davis. Not Candyman which opened the second set, but Hesitation Blues!! (Campbell on fiddle), Death Don’t Have No Mercy!!!!! (Jorma said, “We’ve been too cheerful.” Perhaps. I like playing it in my way as solace as I think of my coming losses.), and Let Us Get Together Right Down Here as the set closer. Between them, Jorma and Campbell are where I have learned most about the Reverend.

There were a couple of Jorma songs which I identified via the set lists, not by my own recognition. They have glorious chords and thoughtful lyrics (swallowed up again as Jorma’s voice has regressed to mean from the Quarantine Concert days and being off the road highpoint), but one camera angle put Jack Casady right in front. As I find my own way around my young singer-songwriter friend’s chord progressions and thereby figure out some things about the bass, I saw so much more about what he accomplishes sometimes with a quarter or even half note. He got a couple of flat out solos on Deep Elem Blues and Let Us Get Together Right Down Here.

Larry Campbell has quite the pedigree, doesn’t he? Music director for Bob Dylan and then the Levon Helm Rambles; a stint with Phil Lesh and Friends; and this longstanding friendship. Between those four gigs, he touches on keeping alive key parts of the music of my youth.

That said, I’m not sure he quite fit last/that night. I don’t blame him though. While Jorma doesn’t retain his QC voice, his guitar playing remains even more ornate from those months of being able to really practice. He takes up more space, so where to fit in?

I’m not going to return to the whole show in its entirety (but okay, Police Dog, Shepherd, No More, and Candy Man maybe) so as not to endure ads etc. BUT I’m very glad to have followed my nose about this show and I got a writing prompt out of it.

Jazz returns. I’ll catch that Kevin Hays set in the Small’s Archive in a week or so and I have a Smoke show pass already bought for this afternoon.

But Hot Tuna has also had a huge impact of the epigenetics of my musical DNA.

[cvvania]

Cadenza of Mercy AU, made with @edam-shame

In short, begins with Leon shielding Walter from Death in a split second decision. However in this short period of time, Walter tskes the chance to bite Leon and turn him. Things continue as canon, however Leon ends up with the Ebony Stone as well, and lets say it only goes downhill from here. With the Ebony stone still in someone's possession, the eternal night doesnt end even if the task is done,

Hunger hits on the way out of the castle, ends up getting a few animals and heads back for Rinaldo's once he is fine. Suffice to say its tense to begin considering Rinaldo is able to tell just what's happened. One doesn't become pale so suddenly for no reason. It also certainly takes some explaining.

It was not revealed to Leon thag Mathias was the one behind everything. Their friendship goes undamaged for some time.

And he... while he stays around the family for some time, its when others become suspicious of his and his family's nature does he leave. Instead he takes up residence in a manor near the old eternal night's forest. And here he rests for some time.

Until we have Eleanor Belmont come around, before the Belmonts have gone to wallachia. See, the vampiric genes still pop up and stick around here and there, but no one in the family has a true explanation for it at this point. As such, she decides to investigate rumors of a vampire out in the old forest.

She does carry the whip here. Decides to investigate, and the creatures that have made up the enemy forces in and around the Manor arent immediately in any want to attack her. The aura is too similar to their 'lord's' to the less sentient beings. Later on however they realize.

And she does eventually get her answers after bearing her way through the manor, eventually finding an old dusty coffin. She does succeed in getting her answers and waking Leon from his rest.

Now see the vampiric genes do pop up more here and there.

Later, he ends up joining Trevor on his and co's quest to kill Dracula after hearing word of Dracula finally reappearing in Wallachia. However do they know this is Leon? No. He follows after as a white wolf, a consistent habit to be for Leon. Trevor knows about the wolf by the time he goes for the castle itself, and Leon is a common conversation topic. Trevor keeps playing off Leon as his 'very real dog yes dont worry he's safe. I think.'

None of them know except Alucard, who honestly just rolls with it since Leon's not hurt them in any sort of way.

It continues as canon.

Simon also has Leon around pretty early, though typically leaves him be due to there being no sense in messing with what wasnt hurting. He does know by the end of CV1, and into CV2.

Then, we have Juste. He knows pretty early on whats up with Leon but doesnt really say a word. Whenever Leon decided to say something, then so be it. Juste has far more of the vampiric genes than most in the family. Leon's along pretty early on, though at some point goes off and meets Maxim alone. This is Maxim, but this encounter doesnt last long as he rushed off.

Richter doesn't know for most of Rondo until maybe the equivalent of stage 6, while Maria does know earlier. Maria doesn't say a word since well why should she, she was never asked. However by the time of Symphony he does indeed know, and I have a feeling that having your ancestor who started this all around would have further negative effect.

Leon perhaps has a fight with Richter pre-Sotn events, but after the possession?

Now. We have canonized Circle of the Moon.

Leon does indeed show up pretty early on in Circle, but doesn't stick around Nathan for as long, instead opting to go off. Hugh hears of this, Nathan actully having met the white wolf, grows all the more jealous.

Leon reveals himself earlier on, basically ends up adopting Nathan.

Also Nathan can do sick card tricks.

[dcnquixctisms]

@perncctation​​ prayed:  (Shinza for Cadenza) She's a bit lost, admittedly not /so surprising, seeing as she only came to visit here with her mother. Embarrassed by the whole ordeal, about to leave, she noticed a girl, looking younger than her. Surely, this person wouldn't give her too much problems right? "Excuse me-? I'm looking for Donquixote-san." Best not to give away their relationship, but seeing as this girl was walking around the palace, it was safe to assume she knew? //HI YES FIRST MEETINGS????

     It’s filled with a welcome silence. Comfortable, familiar at first, as every hallway seemed barren of activity. Every lesson in stern tones warn of keeping up defenses, wary of anything unusual even in times where peace is the only tangible presence. No conscious mind paid to dangers during hours in which only the family would roam the palace, focused more on relaxation as previously instructed. Sore shoulders bearing unthinkable weights made even the simple task of holding a book in place difficult. Near small enough to fit end-to-end in palm, spine tucked within a single crease. Not quite open, but not near closing, cover and back completely shielded by the splay of a large hand . 

     Quiet set apart by footsteps, drawing only mild attention to begin. Others still wandered within the walls even after the family scattered for the day. Another memory of yesterday, carefully pressing fingers together to close the book in hand without snapping it shut. A cant of the head upward, settling on the girl fast-approaching with a curious albeit confused expression. Blank for a brief second, skimming along features, no recognition or mention anywhere in the mind. Her face is unfamiliar, much as the sound of trodden footsteps. Nervous tension in a fidget of fingers rubs hardback just enough to make an unpleasant sound. Still, there was no reason given for Cadenza to be so concerned. Perhaps it is an inherited habit from one so distrustful of strangers. The unknown would be cast out in an instant. But there’s something else fluttering about on the edge of alerted thoughts .

     Keep an open mind, a soft voice speaks to her. Be cautious, but be open .

     In comforting tone she heeds, standing at the other’s request with newfound curiosity. Cadenza towers to her full height, book still in hand, staring down with all the patience and collectedness of eminence. How difficult it would be for most to assume her age simply on appearance, being overshadowing the masses with the only indication of her youth being delicate skin and a cherub’s face. A blink ─ just another sign of innocence attempting to appear respectful in front of another .

      ❝ You’re here to see Young Master? ❞ Rumbled like the small, heavy steps taken forward. A moment of thought to the events of the morning, running down occurrences in a smudged, winding list before coming to a relevant input. ❝ Um, I think he said he was going somewhere important today... ❞ Details clouded by a late rise, reminding her body of the strain it went through training the day prior.  ❝ I’m sorry ─ I don’t remember. But I don’t think he’s here right now . ❞

     Someone must have allowed her inside. It would be truly ridiculous to think any normal commoner without connections could simply stroll about the place unsupervised. Her father would never permit such a thing .

      ❝ You must be very important, if you’re here now. But I’ve never seen you before . ❞

[charlotte-headcanons]

I was re watching the part where Lola's vivre card got taken by Amande from Nami, her siblings were pretty shocked finding out that Nami knew Lola and didnt belive Lola gave it to her.

What do you think Lola's relation with her other sibling and their reaction to her leaving the family.

As shocking as Lola's secret escape from Totto Land was, it makes sense that her siblings still wouldn't want to believe she would be outright helping the enemy! Although the official family policy is to disassociate from Lola fully, comsidering just how pissed Mama is at her ruining her alliance with the giants, it can be a whole different matter what the Charlotte siblings truly think of their sister; and what they used to think of her before she ran away. Below, we listed some common ways various chosen Charlotte siblings approached Lola, as we see it, before her betrayal and after it.

Thank you for that ask, it was very interesting, and sorry for taking so long to answer! 🙏💕✨

Lola's relations with other Charlotte siblings (prior to her escape)

Very close, knew her like no one else: Chiffon, Pudding, Maple, Cornstarch

Generally positive, appreciated her unapologetic personality: Oven, Katakuri, Angel, Opera, Counter, Cadenza, Cabaletta, Gala, Compo, Snack, Praline, Myukuru

Neutral: Cracker, Smoothie, Zuccotto

Judgemental of her: Broye, Cinnamon, Melise

Lowkey hated her: Mont D'Or (because she never followed the plan), Amande (because to her, Lola was obnoxious and too dependent on the idea of romance), Daifuku (because he found her strong persona overwhelming)

Reactions that Charlotte siblings had to Lola's escape from the family

Utterly pissed off, ceased to consider her family: Oven

Pissed off because of the inconvenience and having to deal with Mama's anger: Mont D'Or, Daifuku, Bavarois

Initially pissed off, neutral and even kind of understanding after a while: Perospero

Disappointed but not surprised: Broye, Prim, Smoothie, Moscato

Whatever: Cracker

Sort of hurt that she didn't tell them about the plan and left them behind: Katakuri, Compote, Angel, Snack, Akimeg

Secretly happy for her: Chiffon, Pudding, Praline, Cornstarch, Maple, Gala, Opera, Noisette

So, there you have it! If Lola ever decided to return to Totto Land, there would be quite some siblings who would be happy to see her; others, though, could chase her down without mercy. While the matter is divisive no one really dares to defy Mama, too; and as we headcanon, Lola is fully aware that she cannot ever go back, even if she likes to lie to herself that her family must still love her...a little.

Thank you for the ask! 💕

[ticktockofthemetronome]

👑 for ur babies!

👑 — someone my muse is jealous of.

it’s less of the green bubbling pool of acid that fills her stomach and more of the roaring red concoction that crewel always warns about in alchemy class that starly feels. she can’t say that she is jealous because she acknowledges her lack of experience playing board games, but by the great seven, her bespectacled senior gets on her nerves.

every hour spent sitting across him is spent getting duped by an innocuous move and losing as a result. truly, azul ashengrotto does not hesitate with even the novice player. don’t get her wrong, the first games were not like this, no no. his mercy was something starly appreciated in the first days of clubs and perhaps maybe made her assume that he wasn’t as spectacular of a player as his looks belied. but the second day of clubs was a day when she was able to easily beat him, and it was only then that she realized that she never played a match with the real azul.

and ever since, starly has not won a single game with him yet.

every taunt from him was a burn on her skin, every trick from him was a thorn embedded into her head, every victory from him was a fire on the burner tired of heating up a pot and wishing to be set free.

but that is every reason why club hours are her favorite school hours.

azul may taunt, azul may trick, azul may win, but he is the reason why for the first time, she has a goal keeping her in the game. a goal that has slowly but surely influencing her day-to-day life, from cleaning ramshackle to hitting the books. a goal that keeps her from remaining seated on the cold hard ground.

her jealousy is aimed at nobody.

at least, that’s what she thinks as she walks through the corridors of nrc, holding notebooks and papers labeled not as angela cadenza but as pia sky. after all, there are more pressing matters at hand: the three papers for history class due on friday, the surprise quiz for alchemy class tomorrow, that problem set for math class, the lack of control of her unique magic…

she hates sitting down, not unless it’s for work. she cannot afford to dawdle lest she wishes to be left behind. stick to the schedule, she tells herself. listen to it like it’s gospel truth, like it’s the tick of the metronome that tells her where she’s meant to be.

but if angela gives herself even a sliver time to be honest with herself, sitting down and dawdling would cause her mind to wander off to a west wing that never to be sought out for. a west wing where a beast resides, lamenting on past days when the only thing that mattered was the monochrome keys set before her and not the world outside them.

is it shallow to be jealous of someone over a friendship?

iya would wonder to herself as she watches azul and floyd making easy conversation with jade. she knows more than anyone in this school the exclusive nature the trio possesses, from the manner azul addresses others vs the twins to floyd’s affectionate nicknames for everyone else except for azul and jade. in fact, it’s a miracle that she even gets to walk a few paces behind them. yes sure, it’s exciting and thrilling for the inner fan who has cherished the trio since great seven knows when.

but for the inner girl who wishes to get closer to the boy of her dreams, iya can’t ignore the way her heart hisses and seethes in the bitterness of her envy over the relationship azul and floyd have with jade.

[glassprism]

What vocal moment from any audio/video do you find yourself replaying because you find it just too cool/amazing?

Ooh, well...

Alexander Goebel’s ghostly voice in the beginning of the title song

Dale Kristien’s epic long ‘Think of Me’ cadenza

Inger Olsson Moberg’s ‘Think of Me’ cadenza

Saulo Vasconcelos laughing his head off

Brad Little’s “you try my patience”

Emmy Rossum’s “conSUME us”

John Owen-Jones basically shredding his vocal cords

The entirety of the end of Sierra Boggess’s ‘Wishing’

Katie Hall’s “tears of hate”

Jeremy Stolle’s “this is the choice”

Olivia Brereton’s “and speaks my name”

Sofia Escobar’s “why do you curse mercy”

[christinescarf]

just thinking about Lucy St Louis

her radiant Think of Me that, despite vocal perfection, still holds a twinge of anxiety and nervousness to it, until, as if encouraged by Raoul's memory of her, she demonstrates full control of that cadenza

her unrelenting belief in the angel of music, she really sells you the fact that this poor girl thinks Erik was sent by her father

her being surprised beyond belief with the fact that Raoul might be here, that he might've actually returned to her, and then the small giggle when she confirms that it is, indeed, him

her title song cadenza!!!

the way she puts emphasis on "MAN", her "i remember" is accusatory and confused, which doesn't make Erik lashing out at her not even five seconds later any better

from then on Lucy's Christine is in a panic, she's grappling with the fact that the Phantom and her Angel are one and the same, yet she also feels something very real for the man, her build-up to "SOAR" is a release, a confession not only to Raoul, but herself

her and Rhys' AIAOY is on a league of its own, I could make a whole post analyzing the inflections, the facial expressions and blocking, but the utter RADIANCE present in Lucy during the "Think of Me" cadenza returns once more, and for once the night isn't a giant boogeyman, it's something she'll face head-on, with Raoul by her side

the sadness in her voice when she understands she will never truly be free...probably ever. Erik will always be at the back of her mind, even when he's nowhere to be seen, and her "you will understand in time" really sounds desperate and apologetic to the max

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU EVIL WOMAN, HOW DARE YOU!!!!!!!!" and "I CANNOT SING IT, DUTY OR NOT" are delivered with such vitriol

"in this... [sigh] the Phantom's opera" again, she is and always will be at the mercy of this man and his actions

she reprises "in sleep he sang to me..." in completely jaded, unemotional fashion (I've heard many Christines really express their feelings of betrayal, but Lucy sounds like she's repeated those words to herself until they mean nothing)

her "Wishing" is a masterclass of its own, from anger and hurt ["Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing", "her father promised her" transitioning to a meaningless phrase], to the entire chorus as a plea, "GIVE ME THE STRENGTH TO TRY" and "NO MORE GAZING ACROSS THE WASTED YEARS" being sung through tears, and then reaching an acceptance with "help me say goodbye", where that same radiance sneaks in somewhat

and then PONR is just her retaking the control and autonomy Erik's stripped from her from day one and destroying him with it (she drags out that second "decided" and grunts out "CONsume us" so deliciously)

"so STAND and watch it burn" is angry, vigilant, and then when she pulls the hood off the emotion just comes crashing down on her, as if she cannot believe it's actually Erik looking back at her. the man who's crept up on her for years, months on end. and when he pulls out the ring, she just looks at him with the biggest amount of pity, because WHY WOULD HE BE DOING THIS, and why is there a part of her that wants to accept...

and the Final Lair...I could ramble on and on, because Lucy also changes based on whether she's with Killian or James, but with James there's this bubbling anger mixed with fear, mixed with the last bits of attraction, mixed with pity, mixed with disappointment and betrayal, that's just written all over her. and the fact that she sees he's also beyond the point of return and knows it doesn't make it any easier for her. that same jadedness that was present at the beginning of the graveyard creeps in and is quickly changed by ANGER as she sings out "you are not alone" and kisses him

she's so sorry to leave him, but at the same time she knows it's for the best. a tear escapes. he may love her, but she cannot bear the music of the night. and, just as the libretto says, she sings her final words to Raoul, not looking back

"each morning" with that same radiance

[wkemeup]

Guiding Light (12)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 8.2k warnings: angst™, descriptions of a panic attack, cannon violence, references to suicidal ideation 🖤series masterlist // series playlist

Bucky could barely stand on his own feet, vision tunneling as a ringing burned in his eardrums. His breaths were coming in too short, right hand numb as he struggled to keep himself upright. He couldn't understand how this was even possible; how had they done to you what they did to Bucky and no one even noticed it, didn’t even consider that there was something bigger at play, something evil and vile.

All this time he thought you were safe, thought the worst of it was over, but the rug was pulled out from under him and he was falling a thousand miles a minute, plummeting down to the very core of the planet itself and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

How did no one see this coming?

Only Sam took notice from the corner of the room as Bucky’s knees started to buckle, his hand grasping at his chest as his breaths were too shallow, and rushed at him. Sam gripped onto Bucky’s bicep, holding him up against the wall, and quietly instructed him to list five things he could see.

Bucky gritted his teeth, though he played along because it had helped once before, and he didn’t have time to panic like this, couldn’t waste energy losing himself to his mind because you were out there somewhere, alone, and at the mercy of Hydra. So, he listened to Sam and scoured the room for something to ground him.

Light blue trimming on the floor boards. Steve’s arms folded over his chest. Tony’s pacing up and down the small, enclosed room. The sheets of your bed thrown to the edge of the cot in haste. Broken glass lining the floor he hadn’t noticed when he walked in.

He still couldn’t breathe.

“FRIDAY!” Tony shouted as Bucky started mumbling four things he could touch quietly to Sam, “get me a scan of the entire building! I want to know where the hell she is!”

“You got it, boss,” the AI responded.

Bucky felt for the creases in his sweatpants, then to the thin layer of his t-shirt, hands grasping to tug on his hair, and then to grip onto Sam’s forearm. His breaths were starting to come in more even but he was still too dizzy to focus.

“Three things you can hear,” Sam said quietly, eyeing the rest of the team who had yet to notice Bucky’s panic attack. For all the shit he gave Sam, he was a good man and better than he ever gave him credit for to his face. He reminded himself to tell Sam how much he appreciated it that when all this was over.

“You,” Bucky mumbled, concentrating, “footsteps,” nodding to Tony’s relentless pacing, listening carefully for something humming in the background, “and, um, air conditioning.”

Bucky glanced up to find Steve and Tony talking harshly to one another in the corner of the room, trying to determine next steps and clearly being at odds with one another over what to do. Meanwhile, Natasha tended to Dr. Cho, helping ease her onto the chair as she attempted to explain what had happened.

“That voice just came over the speakers and she just froze,” Dr. Cho muttered, shaken, as she glanced between Tony and Steve as they hovered over her, “she started convulsing about halfway through; screaming, crying, begging for me to leave, but then she just… stilled. I’m not sure what that man said but the next thing I know, she was out of the bed and hit me over the head with a vase.”

So that’s why there was broken glass spilled on the floor; flowers and stems thrown haphazardly around the room. Bucky stopped breathing again, the rest of the steps in Sam’s list thrown out of his mind as the image of your eyes as cold and lifeless as his had once been prevented the air from reaching his lungs.

“Two things you can smell,” Sam reminded him quietly enough to not draw attention, “come on, man. We need you here.”

Bucky nodded, following Sam’s instruction and pushing the mental image from his mind. You needed him and whether you were taken to the darkest parts of your consciousness, he’d find his way to you, he’d bring you back. You’d done it for him more times than he could count. He’d do it for you, too.

The fresh flowers now spewed onto the tile floors. Disinfectant soap on the counter.

Sam was about to ask him for the final step in the grounding method when Bucky shoved his way from off the wall, a renewed energy in his veins and determination running through his body. He clenched his hands into fists, turning back to give a single nod to Sam in a silent appreciation.

“FRIDAY!” Tony called impatiently, “I need an update here.”

“I think I found something,” FRIDAY’s voice came through again, “in the east wing. The security cameras haven't been set up there yet so I can’t get an eye on Agent Y/l/n but there’s movement in the area.”

Steve nodded; arms folded over his chest. He glanced to Bucky with remorse clouding in the light blue of his eyes until his friend nodded, giving him the signal that it was okay to proceed. Steve let out a heavy breath, stepping forward and his arms relaxed at his sides.

“Alright, team. Suit up.”

***

Bucky couldn’t stand wasting time he should be searching the compound for you lugging on his Kevlar jacket and changing out of his sweatpants. It felt like a colossal mistake, attending to something so trivial, but it was Sam that pointed out that a knife and a bullet would rip through cotton a lot easier than the thick material of his suit. If he wanted to survive whoever hacked FRIDAY’s system and whatever hell they brought along with them, he needed to take the extra three minutes.

He emerged from his room, trying to ignore the mess of sheets and pillows he’d laid in with you just hours ago, and met Sam at the end of the hall.

“Steve said we’d meet up there. Let’s go,” Bucky grumbled, heading towards the stairs when a hand grabbed onto his wrist, not enough to stop him in his tracks from the pull of it but he sensed the urgency in the grip, the silent plea to wait.

“You need to be prepared for what you might see,” Sam said sternly, though there was a lingering sadness in his eyes. “You haven’t seen yourself when the soldier took over. If that’s what's happening to Y/n right now... you've got to be prepared for that, man. She’s not going to know you and she may try to kill you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, ripping his hand from Sam’s grasp. It was harsher than he meant to but there would be time for apologies later. He knew how it felt when the soldier controlled him and he didn’t need anyone else to tell him what it would be like to see it. There was no preparing for something like that, for seeing the love of your life stripped from thier emotions, their memories, and rendered a weapon for the same organization that tortured them for months.

Sam nodded, needing no further explanation and gestured for Bucky to lead the way.

The run to the east wing was long, longer than he remembered, and impossibly quiet. All he could focus on was the sound of their footsteps echo through the halls as they ran, the panting of Sam’s breaths, and the rustling of his jacket against his left arm. He didn’t let himself think about anything else, couldn’t, because it would consume him whole.

“We’ve got an issue,” Steve’s voice came in through the coms. “I’ve got company on my level.”

“Me, too,” Nat added, her voice low, as if she was hiding from something, “at least six outside my hall.”

“Looks like we’ve got a full-scale invasion on our hands,” Tony chimed in and the whirring of his suit buzzed through the coms as he spoke. “Wilson and Barnes, you’re are on your own for now, I’m afraid.”

“Not a problem,” Sam responded with a smirk, nodding at Bucky confidently. It was his easiest defense mechanism when things got tough, to smile through it and make jokes, because what else did they have if they lost their conviction.

Bucky nodded back, trying to latch onto the aura that Sam exuded.

It only lasted a second before the echo of gunfire rang out in the hallway and Sam ducked just as a bullet flew over his head.

Bucky skidded to a halt with his back pressed against the wall to shield himself from the open hallway where the gunfire had come from. Meanwhile, Sam threw himself towards the assailants down the hall without much of a second thought. Quickly switching into combat mode, Sam yanked the handguns from his holsters and began firing.

Bucky’s hand was inching towards his gun, edging over the corner of the hall, when Sam started waving at him frantically, turning over a cadenza lined against the wall and ducked down behind it to shield from the gunfire in his direction.  

“Go!” he shouted as peaked out behind the blockade and fired at the two men. “Go, Barnes! I’ve got this! Find Y/n!”

Bucky watched as Sam charged out from behind the cadenza and disappeared further into the adjoining hall, chasing after the two gunmen, until all he could hear was the distant echo of the gun’s discharge, until he heard nothing but the labored pants of his own breath.  

Sam was right. The team was getting picked off one by one from the chaos of Hydra agents infiltrating the base. He was the only one left, the only one who might be able to reach you before it was too late. He didn’t have time to panic and rush after Sam. There was only one priority right now and it was you. Bucky pushed himself off of the wall and sprinted further down the long, empty corridor.

Soon, the furnished halls and room turned to exposed beams and wooden framing, the cool air seeping in through the exposed walls until he came upon the heart of the east wing. He pulled to a stop in the same room he’d spent weeks renovating with Sam. The smell of fresh wood still present in the air, but there was something off. Tools thrown sporadically around the room outside of the box he had left them in, plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling ripped down the middle, and an aura of something sinister enough to get the hair on Bucky’s arm standing on edge.

“It is good to see you again, Soldat,” a voice spoke from behind him, low, familiar. It was the same voice from the speakers that spoke the Russian trigger words. “Let me reintroduce myself. You may call me Cain.”

Bucky turned, slowly, to catch a glimpse of Cain from the corner of his eyes before facing him completely. The scar running down the side of the man’s face was enough for a growl to rip through Bucky’s chest and he yanked the gun from its strap over his thigh and held the barrel aimed between Cain’s eyes. This was the same man who beat you and tortured you and humiliated you on streamed footage for the world to see. Bucky had never felt a rage in his veins quite like this. It was painful. It was all consuming.

Cain held his hands up to the side, almost defensively, laughing, and it made Bucky’s stomach lurch.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he smirked, “not when I’ve got such a fun surprise for you.”

Bucky’s position faltered for just a second, his grip loosening on the gun. His cold, hardened expression fell to one of agony, enough for Cain to notice before he could hide it. The knowing grin that followed only seemed to make the dread churning in Bucky’s stomach worse.

Then, Cain stepped aside, allowing space for something behind him, and Bucky watched with his heart in his throat as you emerged from behind the pillar.

It wasn't the black, skin tight suit, or the bold, red insignia of Hydra’s emblem on your chest that frightened him most, or the muzzle over your mouth, or the dark black paint over your face like a mask. It was the empty, detached look in your eye as you stared at him, looking straight through him like he was made of glass, like he was less than nothing. You were still, body stiff, awaiting orders and it was so familiar, Bucky’s knees nearly gave out.

“Impressive, ain’t she? Conditioned her myself,” Cain taunted, eyeing Bucky’s reaction as he ran a hand up the side of your arm and flipping the hair from your shoulder. He circled your back with the flat of his palm possessively; his touch on you a reminder of who you belonged to. You were unresponsive to your captor’s hands roaming over your body, too locked away in the confines of your mind to care, but Bucky was fuming.

“Get your fucking hands off of her,” he seethed through gritted teeth, his eyes trained on Cain’s hand upon your hip.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Cain stepped behind you and used your body as a shield. His chest was pressed to your back, his hands settled on your shoulders as he leaned around the side of your face. “You gonna shoot me through your girl here?”

Bucky’s head was pulsing, jaw aching from how tight he was grinding his teeth. Cain raked your hair away from your eyes, pushed it aside and licked a stripe up the side of your face. Bucky’s stomach dropped and he tasted blood in his mouth, his grip on his gun faltering as Cain kept his eye the whole time, daring him to do something about it. He didn’t pull away until his tongue trailed from the edge of your jaw to your temple. You didn’t even flinch. You were motionless.

Bucky could see the shine of Cain’s saliva on your skin.

“I’m going to kill you,” Bucky growled, trying to keep his voice even despite the heat boiling inside of him, “I will fucking rip you apart! Do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”

“Not if your girl kills you first,” he shrugged, unfazed. “Listen Soldat, you’ve been a pain in Hydra’s ass for too long. If you’re not going to give up your little fantasy of pretending you’re some kind of hero and come home to Hydra where you belong, then we’re left with no choice but to eliminate you, to punish you for your decent. What better way to do that than with the woman you so pathetically fell in love with? Isn’t that right, эсминец?”

Destroyer.

You only blinked, unmoving, unaffected by the man’s taunts. Bucky kept his focus on you, desperately searching for a trace of the woman he knew you to be hidden somewhere in your eyes, screaming to get out, but it was naïve, foolish of him to even try. Sam had tried to warn him of that. The stories Steve had told him of what it was like trying to get through to him when the winter soldier filtered through the back of his memories. It was near impossible, he’d nearly beaten Steve within an inch of his life, but he did break through. Once.

He had to try.

“Y/n,” Bucky called out, directing his attention solely on you, even as Cain rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“Y/n’s not home right now, asshole,” Cain scoffed, earning no response from Bucky.

“I need you to snap out of this,” Bucky tried again, recognizing the lace of fear in his voice he had no hope of masking. You were staring right through him, eyes glazed over. Bucky could hardly feel the thunderous pounding in his chest. “Please, I don’t want-- I won’t fight you. Please, baby, just wake up. You don’t have to listen to him. You know who he is. You know what he’s done to you.”

Still, nothing.

He should have expected that, but it didn’t make the sting of your empty stare any less painful.

“Sweetheart, please,” he choked out, the lump in the back of his throat threatening to suffocate him where he stood.  

“Pathetic,” Cain grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Never thought I’d see the day the Winter Soldier begged like a fucking love sick school boy. You’ve become nothing but weak since you turned your back on Hydra. We raised you. We gave you your strength, your power, and you dare to throw it all away for some mindless whore with a vigilante complex!?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Bucky spat, eyes still locked on you because the second he looked at that vile man again, he’d lose it completely. He’d empty his entire clip into him and there was no telling what you’d do. It wasn’t a risk he could take, so he stayed focused on you despite the flinch in his body at the mention of Hydra, of the Winter Soldier, the physical recoil of his past life thrown back into his face.

Cain shook his head, a film of disgust upon his features. “Your makers would be sick at the sight of you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw so tight he drew blood against his tongue. His hand was shaking. Copper burned in his mouth. It took every ounce of his strength to stay focused on you.

“Y/n, sweetheart, look at me. I’m not your enemy. You know me.”

Nothing. No flickers of realization or softness breaking through the dense, stone cold expression etched into your muscles. You were empty, a shell, like he had been once. You didn’t know him. You didn’t even know yourself.

A painful split ripped and tore in Bucky’s chest and he was certain his heart had ripped in two.

“We don’t have all day here, so let’s cut to the chase.” Cain leaned into your ear and you shifted your head just slightly, slow calculated movements, waiting for his orders like it was the only thing you knew. It was. “Kill him.”

You nodded and without a blink in your eye, grabbed the handgun from Cain as he extended it to you. There was no time to react as you aimed the barrel in Bucky’s direction and pulled the trigger.

The fire of the release echoed within the room and suddenly white hot burning shot through Bucky’s right thigh. He stumbled back a few paces from the impact, his shoulder painfully colliding with the sharp edge of a wooden pillar, his leg threatening to give out under him.

He clenched his jaw, breathing harshly through gritted teeth as his hand darted down to put pressure on the wound and blood seeped between his fingers, thick and oozing through the torn hole in his suit, in his skin.

When he looked up again, you were already halfway across the room, stalking toward him and all he could see was the lack of remorse in your eye, the unabridged need to finish the mission, to take him out because it was what you were told. It was a look he knew too well.

He'd never even seen you like that when facing your enemies in the field. You were always cautious, calculating, but you still managed to crack jokes by his side as you infiltrated Hydra bases. There was a smile on your face and you eased him by talking about playlists and trips to Brooklyn as if he wasn’t following you through the halls of enemy territory with weapons in your hands.

You were never like this; separate from yourself, cold and compartmentalized, a weapon of your skills alone.

“Y/n! Wait!” Bucky shouted, calling out for you knowing it would be of no use but goddamnit he did it anyway because the idea of you being lost to him, after all you’d been through together, was too much to let himself give up now. He dove between the exposed wooden pillars, just trying to get out of your line of sight for only a second, dragging his right leg behind him to find relief.

Blood dripped down his thigh, leaving red in his wake and soaking through the fabric of his pants. He glanced over his shoulder and you were suddenly behind him, a hand on his bicep gripping tight into the straps of his jacket and you yanked him hard, shoving his body against the nearest wall.

You didn’t usually have strength like this and Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was the adrenaline, a foreign serum in your veins, or if his own body was weakened by the blood loss or just by the agony of it being you he was supposed to fight.

Dead eyes clouding over any trace of the woman he knew and you moved to slam your fist to his face, but he ducked just in time, sliding out of your grasp. The crash of drywall followed and you shook dust and plasterboard from your fist like it barely hurt.

“I’m not going to fight you,” Bucky panted, holding his ground a few feet from you as you cracked your neck. “Snap out of this!”

You stalked closer, a twitch in your lip and a growl in your chest.

“You’re only prolonging the inevitable, Soldat!” Cain called out, laughing as he leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. A coward who couldn’t be bothered to do anything but watch.

Bucky grunted, grabbing your hand at the wrist as you swung at him again. He held you steady, watching as your eyes narrowed in concentration and you tried to push forward, arm shaking in the attempt. There was nothing behind the hue of your eyes, no love, no longing, no semblance of the light he was so used to. It was only darkness.

“Sweetheart, please,” he begged, only for you to swing your free hand around and collide hard against his jaw. He stumbled back, grabbing at his face from the throbbing in his cheek.

You charged at him again, kicking him in the thigh where blood soaked through fabric and he cried out, the throbbing of the open wound aching through the entirety of his leg and shooting up through his spine.

“Look at me!” Bucky was growing desperate. He was running out of options. “You know me!”

He saw the flash of the gun quicker this time as you raised at him and rushed at you, slamming you hard against the wall and yanking the weapon from your hand, throwing it along the floor out of your reach.

Electric cuffs on the belt of his jacket released and he quickly adhered them to your wrists, leaving them bound against the wall like high intensity magnetics. You struggled against them, grunting and shouting, almost feral, and Bucky took a second to breathe.

Reaching forward, he removed the muzzle from your mouth and flung it aside, hands cupping at the sides of your face, touching the creases in your skin left behind by the sharp plastic. Fingers running soothingly over heated cheeks and you tried to stretch away from his touch like it burned you, like you’d never felt his hands before, like they were a stranger’s.

“Y/n, please, I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky pleaded, trying to catch your eye but you only growled back at him, fighting the restraints as your chest heaved in the exertion. He was gripping your face too tightly now but he was teetering on the edge of desolation, terrified of what could happen, and you wouldn’t even meet his eye. “Baby, it’s me. It’s Bucky. Just look at me. I’m right here.”

“Enough already!” Cain shouted, aiming a device over in Bucky’s direction, something he didn’t recognize.

As high-pitched ringing filled the room, your cuffs immediately released and you fell from the wall, shoving Bucky hard to the ground before you scrambled for the gun. He didn’t have even a second to stand before you were towering over him, gun aimed down at his chest.

This was it, he realized. This was the way he was going to die, staring down the barrel held in the hand of the woman he spent his whole life waiting for, the woman he loved. He’d already heard you say you loved him for the last time, already had his last kiss with you, felt your hands so tenderly upon his skin, saw you smile, heard your voice. It was all over before he even realized it, ripped away by the cruel utterance of Russian words over the speakers.

He wondered if you’d ever forgive yourself.

You released the safety of the gun, the click of it deafening in his ears, and he clenched onto his thigh. Blood oozed between his fingers and he winced at the pain of it as it shot up his leg. Glancing up at you, staring into the cold and empty look in your eye as you strengthened your stance, ready to pull the trigger. 

Bucky knew that if he was honest with himself, this fight would always end here.

He wasn’t fighting the way he should, wasn’t using his years of training and decades of combat and missions.

He could have swept your leg and pulled one of the knives hidden in his jacket, could have taken you by surprised and gotten control of the gun in your hand, he could have gained the upper hand and had you on the floor in a matter of seconds, but he couldn’t do any of those things without the risk of punishment from Cain reigning down on you before he could get you to safety or even convince you in this state that he was someone to trust.

He’d known what it was like to be in your position, to have nothing but orders in your mind and a determination that out-ruled everything else. You wouldn’t stop, no matter what he did, and he knew there was only one way to end this.

Cain wouldn’t let you leave here alive without accomplishing your mission. It was the reason they’d taken you in the first place, to break you and wither you down until they could shove the soldier into your head and rip away the woman he so adamantly loved, just so he knew in his last moments, it was you that killed him. Another sick form of torture that Hydra sought to punish him with. He’d always been at the mercy of those vile men, no matter what he did or how long he thought he was free from their grasp.

And they used you to do it.

Bucky made a decision in that moment as you stared down at him through cold, hooded eyes. Chest panting and sweat dripping from his brow, he tried to bring back the memory of your smile, your laugh, the light in your eyes he’d so easily fallen in love with.

The team would find you before Cain escaped. They’d find you and you’d be safe again.

It was all he cared about.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he exhaled, nodding slowly, hand gripping to the painful ache in his thigh. He hand was coated in red. “It’s okay.”

You narrowed your eyes, confused, and you glanced over at Cain for answers and he only shrugged, waving at you to get on with it. You adjusted your positioning, though your finger remained steady on the trigger.

“I know you’ll wake up from this soon,” Bucky continued, taking advantage of the time you gave him before it ran out, “you’ll wake up and remember this but I need you to know that I love you, okay? I need you to know that you’re the best thing that ever happened to me and this isn’t your fault.”

You blinked, furrowing your brow.

“You saved me all those years ago. Remember that,” Bucky urged, his voice softer than he intended, coming out in a broken rasp and losing energy fast. He coughed, blood spraying from his lips. “Do you understand me? This isn’t your fault, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.”

“Jesus fuck! This is pathetic!” Cain shouted, storming his way through the open walls and pushing aside half completed insulation. He stood next to you, raised his own gun to your head and releasing the safety with a deafening click. “Do it. Kill him, now!”

“Y/n, it’s okay,” Bucky pleaded, heart lurching at the sight of Cain’s finger inching closer to the trigger, the barrel pressing against your temple. “Sweetheart, it’s alright. You can do it now. I’m okay.”

But you didn’t move. You only stared at him, studying him, and for the smallest, most impossible second, Bucky thought he saw a flash of realization, but he knew it was only his mind playing tricks on him, a false hope he didn’t dare allow for himself.

“What the hell are you waiting for!?” Cain roared, shoving the barrel of the gun hard against your temple enough to force a falter in your position. “Kill him!”

“Y/n, please, it’s okay—”

“Listen to your goddamn boyfriend, princess! He’s fucking asking for it, ain’t he? Kill him!”

Bucky winced, feeling lightheaded from the throbbing in his thigh. He didn’t want to die, not anymore, not after he’d finally found you again and his world shifted into something beautiful and hopeful and filled with light. He didn’t want to die, but he’d give up everything if it meant keeping you safe.

He’d give up his life.

“I love you,” he said to the woman who didn’t know him, words falling out in an exhale as his eyes fluttered closed, just needing to focus on the image in his mind of you, of lying under cool sheets and curling against bare skin, of warm smiles and the soft touch of your lips. He needed it to be the last thing he knew as the darkness took him under.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I love you.”

Bucky settled in, waiting, hands trembling and breaths shaky in his chest.

But the gunshot never came. One minute later. Then two. Still nothing.

Slowly, Bucky opened his eyes again to see you clenching your jaw, nostrils flaring as a rage boiled under the surface. Your hand gripped and clenched at the handle of the gun, eyes flickering down to the barrel as if the very action of its aim repulsed you. There was a war fighting in your head, sweat beading down your temples as breaths came in thick and heavy, chest panting.

The soldier didn’t have emotions like that and Bucky felt his heart start to pick up in pace again as he dared to meet your eye.

Panic, confusion, shame, fury, all rolled into a single moment and a tear slipped down your cheek, blinking away another. Your lips parted, almost in a gasp, and it was like a cloud of smoke broke from the emptiness in your gaze, replaced with a complexity of human emotion all your own.

Bucky’s chest was tight, painful, and he realized he had stopped breathing. He sucked in a harsh breath, shaking on the exhale, as he kept your eye. You remained still, Cain still none the wiser as you had yet you drop your gun, though your finger had strategically moved away from the trigger.

Almost as if in slow motion, you turned to face Cain, prodding the gun away from your temple with the back of your hand until he held it down by his side. You clenched your jaw, eyes darkening over at you looked at him, losing traces of the woman Bucky knew you to be in favor of a vengeance that ran deep in your veins.

“What the fuck are you doing, princess?” Cain seethed, readying to lift the gun at you again but a scream, pained and broken, ripped through your lungs, echoing through the east wing, and you threw yourself at him before he could move.

Bucky propped himself up on his elbows, unable to do much else from the dead weight of his right leg, and watched as you slammed Cain to the ground, throwing his gun far away from his reach as you sent punch after punch against the side of his face until blood splattered along the floor.

But then, Cain kneed you hard in the side, throwing you off of him and managing to get the upper hand. Bucky tried to crawl towards you, desperate to do something, anything to help as you scrambled to your feet, but his body was fading on him, too weak to stand, let alone fight.

Cain laughed, spitting a gob of blood from his lips as he grabbed a hold of your shoulders, throwing you at the nearest pillar and Bucky flinched as he heard the sound of your head against the wood. You were too slow to get up, unsteady as you clung onto the wall with one hand and pressed at your temple with the other. Your vision was doubling and you fell back to the floor.

“You think you can beat me?!” Cain bellowed, arms stretched out to the side, “I am the embodiment of Hydra itself and Hydra cannot be killed!”

In his arrogance, he didn’t notice Bucky’s hand grasp onto the cold metal of the gun that had slipped from your hold in the struggle. He didn’t notice Bucky meet your eye for an impossibly short second before he slid the gun across the floor to you. He didn’t notice your fingers curling around the handle, pointer on the trigger as you released the safety with a short flicker, before it was too late, and without even waiting a beat, you fired a shot straight into Cain’s chest.

He stumbled back; words caught in his throat as he glanced down to red seeping out through his shirt. You pushed yourself to your feet, holding the gun with both hands and fired a second shot just as Cain attempted to lunge at you again. This one brought him to his knees. Then a third shot fired, until Cain collapsed to the floor. Even when he laid upon the ground, unmoving, eyes rolled back, you emptied the entire clip.

“Y/n,” Bucky called, trying to catch your attention over the sound of the gunshots, the ringing in his ears from the close quarter discharge pulsing painfully. You couldn’t hear him, firing round after round, refilling the magazine, watching as Cain’s lifeless body flailed with each shot. You didn’t stop until the weapon was firing blanks.

“Y/n!”

You froze, turning over your shoulder slowly, like you were afraid of what you’d see. Upon laying eyes on Bucky, the gun slipped from your hand, falling to the floor with deafening sound.

You rushed at him, skidding on your knees, hands hovering over his thigh, his chest, his face, so irrevocably afraid to touch him because you’d already caused so much damage but longing for the feel of him, to confirm the beating of his heart under your fingertips and the breath exhaling in warm gusts from his lungs.

Tears welled in your eyes, and Bucky grabbed your shaking hands.

“Oh, God... oh, God, what did I do...”

“I’m okay, love,” Bucky tried to assure you as you threw yourself against his chest, arms wrapping tightly around him and a world of relief filled him. Your whole body shook with every sob as it made its way through your spine and Bucky rubbed his hand soothingly down your back.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, hands clenching around the thick fabric of his jacket, “I’m so sorry, Bucky, I didn’t-- I didn’t know how to—how to stop--”

“I know, sweetheart. Trust me, I know,” Bucky said, kissing your forehead. There was no control when the triggers were activated, no fighting back. It was a feeling Bucky knew too well.

You nodded against his chest, curling up tighter against him and Bucky did his best to run his hand gently along your back. Steve’s voice came in through the coms letting him know that they’d taken care of the last of the stray agents and he quickly mumbled back that he was clear with you but he needed time. The numbness in his leg long forgotten. The serum in his veins would give him the time he needed.

It took a while before you calmed down again, breaths coming back in an even pace, steady exhales warm against his neck, and your grip on him slowly began to ease. There was something on your mind, something you were ruminating about, because he could feel the heaviness behind your breaths and the subtle twitch in your hands. Bucky swallowed, knowing what was coming.

“You were going to let me kill you, weren’t you?”

Your voice was soft, aching, and so quiet Bucky almost didn’t hear it, but it still managed to make his heart skip a beat. He sighed, not knowing what the right answer was, so he landed on the truth.

“Yes.”

Pulling back, you met his eye and he saw a world of pain swimming behind your irises. “How could you—why would you--” you exhaled, trying to steady yourself, “do you still want to die?”

Bucky’s features softened immediately. He didn’t know how you found out about that, about the darkest moments of his life when he let his secret slip to Steve that night in a Hydra base after he’d killed a dozen men. You were smart, though, intuitive beyond measure, so he shouldn’t be surprised you put the pieces together.

“No,” he responded honestly, sincerely, and the answer would have shocked him if someone had asked him a few months prior. “No, sweetheart, I don’t. I’ve got too much worth living for now, but I... I wasn’t going to let him hurt you, Y/n. It wasn’t a death wish, but it was the only thing I could do to make sure you got out of there alive.”

You shook your head, tears sliding down your face. “But what about you? You think I’d just be okay after all that? You think I’d be able to just move on, that I’d be fine, after I-- I killed you?”

“You’d be alive.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“I know,” Bucky sighed, his hand trailing up the side of your neck and cupping your cheek. You leaned further into his touch, and he brushed his thumb over your cheekbone to capture the tears as they fell. “The one time I was able to break through the conditioning was when I almost killed Steve. I thought... maybe if it came to that, if you were ready to pull the trigger, you might snap out of it like I did.”

“That’s a hell of a bet, Buck.”

Your voice was aching, shaken, and Bucky could hear the lingering heartbreak present behind every word. He knew the gravity of what he was saying, knew he was basically telling you he’d rather you kill him than have to watch you die again, but it was the truth and he was never going to lie to you. Not after all you’d been through.

You collapsed back against his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him and Bucky didn’t say anything else. He just held you because it was the best he could do, the most he could offer because he’d been where you are right now. He knew what it was like for something so evil and vile to snake its way into your mind and rip you from your body, to watch yourself commit violent acts and have no control of your hands as you pulled triggers on countless victims. He knew the war going on in your mind and the painstaking guilt of it being him on the end of the barrel, the same way it had once been Steve on the end of his.

It changed you. Broke you.

It broke him, too.

***

You didn’t know how long you laid there with him until he finally called for Steve over the coms, letting him know they he was ready for the team to head to the east wing now that things had settled down. One by one they all filtered into the room and you kept your hold tight on Bucky’s waist, face pressed against his neck.

A short glimpse over your shoulder and you found a deep red gash over Steve’s forehead, cracks and chips in the paint of Tony’s suit, blood trailing down Natasha’s arm from the cut of a knife to her shoulder, and a varying mixture of blood, dirt, and dust covering over most of Sam’s exposed skin.

Steve carefully kneeled down by Cain’s body and checked for a pulse he wouldn’t find. You had emptied nearly two full clips into the man. He’d been dead by the third bullet.

Slowly, the team started to piece together what had happened. The open wound in Bucky’s thigh, the red emblem of the Hydra symbol on your chest and the faint markings of black paint around your eyes, eerily similar to what they made Bucky wear the first time he encountered the team on the highway in D.C. The red in your eyes and the flush in your cheeks and they all knew without asking what the man with the scar down his face made you do.

It was Natasha that carefully pried you away from Bucky. He whispered soothing praises in your ear, reminded you he was okay, that he was right here, and wasn’t going anywhere, and you reluctantly released him from your grasp. You curled up against Nat as Steve and Sam propped Bucky up between them so he could favor his right leg.

You muttered another apology to him as he tried to put pressure on it but recoiled in pain, and he was quick to remind you it wasn’t your fault. Sweet, encouraging, lovely smile on his face and he reminded you again and again, because he meant it with everything in him and if he believed you when you said it to him about the horrible things he’d done under Hydra’s control, he’d find a way to make you believe it too.

Nat led you down the hall behind them to the med bay. She tried to steer you away from the chaos of bodies and SHIELD agents you encountered along the way, but it was no use. There were too many of them. SHIELD agents cuffing the Hydra affiliates they managed to capture alive, cleaning crews coming in to remove the dead bodies and the pools of blood in their wake. Tony urged the rest of you on while he stayed behind to help organize where to send the Hydra agents for custody.

Some of the Hydra agents tried to taunt you as you walked by, sneering at their emblem on your chest and calling you ‘Destroyer’, but Steve had left Bucky in Sam’s hold just long enough to scare the men into keeping their mouths shut as he flung his shield into the wall just above one of the men’s head. It clipped off the ends of his hair as it embedded itself into the wall and the room silence immediately.

Tony rolled his eyes, listing off another task that needed to be taken care of to the damage control staff as he yanked the shield out from the wall.

Steve grumbled under his breath, sending a wink at you, before he swung Bucky’s arm back over his shoulders and continued down the hall. You surprised yourself as a soft smile lifted your chapped lips to see the agent quivering where he sat.

When you made it back to the med bay, Dr. Cho was waiting with a bandage over her head and a kinder smile on her face than you deserved after you’d attacked her less than an hour earlier. Steve and Sam helped Bucky into the bed and she cut a strip up his pant leg to expose the bullet wound on his thigh.

A team of nurses came up behind you and tried to pull you out of the room to examine you themselves but a jolt of panic rushed through you, eyes catching on Bucky and he sat up further on the bed.

“She’s fine here,” he ordered, glancing to Dr. Cho who nodded at the nurses to step back.

“I’ll examine Agent Y/l/n myself once I’ve finished with Sergeant Barnes,” she said and you exhaled a steady breath, leaning into Natasha as she helped usher you to the seat by Bucky’s bed.

Slumping into the chair, Bucky reached down and grabbed a hold of your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips and kissing them tenderly, enough to remind you he was there and to keep your head from spinning in the clouds. You smiled at him though it didn’t reach your eyes, but he understood. It was the most you could manage for now.

Dr. Cho worked silently as she retracted the bullet lodged in his thigh. Bucky did his best to keep his face stoic, to not let you have to see an ounce of pain as Dr. Cho pulled the metal fragments from his leg, but the subtle twitch of his upper lip and the furrow of his brow were enough. You squeezed his hand harder, a silent apology and Bucky turned to you, softening his features quickly and tugged you closer to him. Always so understanding, so forgiving, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

A few hours later, after Dr. Cho used some kind of laser to seal Bucky’s wound together and she attended to the minor scars and scraps on your arms, Tony came barreling in with a laptop with Sam and Steve hot on his heels. Natasha sauntered in after them casually and sent you a wink before she collapsed into the chair in the corner of the room.

“So, I found out who the asshole with the scar is,” Tony grunted, propping the laptop up on the edge of the bed. An image of Cain illuminated in the top right corner of the screen and you leaned in closer to Bucky, feeling your heartrate elevate just as the sight of that man.

“Alex Cainning,” Tony started, “was dishonorably discharged from the US Army back in 2010 for a series of physical altercations against his own unit members. Made him an easy recruit for Hydra. Looks like he was a part of the Winter Soldier project for a few years, too.”

You looked to Bucky, wide eyed, to find he was just as surprised. He’d recognized Cain’s voice but he had assumed it was from the videos, not because he’d known him in his past life under Hydra. It would explain his vendetta against Bucky for escaping.

“So, he’s a certified bad guy,” Sam shrugged, rolling his eyes, “he’s dead. What does this matter?”

Tony pursed his lips, sending a scowl in Sam’s direction, before turned back to you and Bucky. “I thought the two people whose lives have been uprooted by this monster might want to know that because of this intel, we tracked down the base he held Y/n at. I’ve got a team of agents heading there as we speak to blow the joint to kingdom come.”

“That includes the machine they used to condition both of you,” Steve added, a hopeful edge of lips curving up at the ends.

Bucky nodded, a wave of relief present on his face and you pressed yourself to his side, arm wrapping over his waist as he pulled you tight against him. Warm and solid and tangible in your hands, you breathed him in, smelling of copper and sweat and lingering florals from your body wash. The never-ending enigma that was Bucky Barnes.

“It’s really over?” he asked cautiously, unsure, because it never had been before.

Tony nodded. “We’ll have to ship Y/n off to Wakanda soon so Shuri can get those words out of her head, but the good news is that she already has the procedure down after spending all that time experimenting on Barnes.”

You laughed into Bucky’s chest, smile obstructed by the thick Kelvar of his vest but he could feel the movement in your back, the vibration in your chest, and it eased him more than anything else. Tony went onto explain the logistics, of how he was readying a jet as they spoke and had already put in a call to T’Challa to let him know you’d be on your way. Shuri was more than excited to have someone else to test her procedure on and while Bucky stiffened at that, you only laughed more.

It was an odd feeling, to have such laughter in your chest and smiles on your faces while you wore a Hydra emblem on your suit and Bucky was held up in a hospital bed from the bullet you’d shot into his leg. But your world was full of chaos and unpredictability and nothing was ever guaranteed. This makeshift family of yours was the only constant in your life, the dynamics between them, the push and pull, the teasing and the heartbreak.

They would hold you together. Even through the worst. They’d pull you back from darkness.

----

ahh one more chapter to go! feedback is always so so appreciated! pls reblog and comment if you enjoyed

tags ❄️ @sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts / @sarcastic-and-cool / @no-clue-whats-happenin / @capsgrl / @happyeyesandsunshine / @slithredn / @13sunken-ships13 / @thefandomplace / @wxstedhexrt /  @jennmurawski13 / @galaxkay / @moonlessnight14/ @kittybritty7 / @pancakefancake / @vitamingrant / @justendlesssummerfeels

[the-melting-world]

Devil in Jersey City 🍋

Khleo x Cadenza

~ In which a secretive barhand provides a service for a raven-haired magician…

This fic was fueled by “Devil in Jersey City” by Coheed & Cambria

The Khledenza saga continues! This is a follow up to “Present Tense” | Khleo’s pronouns for this fic: she / they | Cadenza belongs to @arcanecadenza

cw: biting, lemony content ahead 🍋 (Note: there’s about 90% plot and 10% acidity in this particular fic.) 

~ 2.6k words

***

Khleo’s coworkers were giving her hell and she could not care less.

“Absolutely defunct this one,” said Gabe, who was mopping the floor. “Keeps polishing the same damn glass over and over.”

Khleo ignored him, but Samira came to her rescue anyway. “Quit it. You know Khlee gets like this whenever they’re crushing on one of the patrons.”

Basil, the best mixologist on staff, piped up from the far end of the counter. “Nuh-uh. It’s never been this bad. Or else she would have punched Gabe’s lights out by now.”

While Khleo’s coworkers continued to chatter amongst themselves, her mind was somewhere else completely.

Hands tied above her head. Bathed in absolute darkness. 

The last time Khleo was with Cadenza, she was completely at the raven-haired magician’s mercy. And it was…

Sublime.

Khleo surprised the other barhands when she suddenly sucked in a deep breath. Somewhere in the background, Samira’s sweet concern reached her. “Khlee, are you doing all right?”

“They’re fine. Just forgot to breathe again. That’s been happening a lot today.”

Khleo wanted to do something for Cadenza. But what? What could the magician possibly want?

< Not want. Need. >

Khleo shook her head and set down the glass.

~ How am I supposed to find out what she needs, Hefe? That’s personal. ~

“So I’m real curious, Khlee.” It was Gabe again. “Who is it this time?”

Apparently the conversation of Khleo’s new flame was still going strong.

Khleo finally spoke up. “Her name is Cadenza.” Once again, the three other bartenders fixed her with perplexed looks. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living. Did you have a nice time in La-La Land?”

Khleo ignored Gabe’s jab. She grunted as she hopped over the counter. “I’m going to see Cadenza right now, so someone needs to cover for me.

Samira’s hand shot into the air. “Oh, pick me! I’ll never turn down the chance to deceive the boss in the name of love.”

Khleo smiled. “Thanks, Mira. I won’t be long.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Basil called with a wave. 

Gabe snickered, “Yes, please do. Clearly you won’t be useful around here until you go do whatever you have to with this–”

Khleo threw him a warning look.

Gabe paused to roll his eyes. “This Cadenza.”

***

Khleo used the mental link she shared with Hefe to make sure that she didn’t get lost on her way to Cadenza’s shop. When the raven-haired magician opened the door, she didn’t expect the barhand to be standing there, leaning up against the doorframe and fixing her with that dark, penetrating gaze.

“Khleo,” Cadenza greeted, searching for what to say next. But the barhand beat her to it.

“You can’t sleep.”

Cadenza blinked. “Wha–”

Gentle, but assertive, Khleo helped herself inside the shop and down the corridor. 

“Right? You can’t sleep so you go walking in the streets at night. That’s how you wound up at my bar.”

Cadenza faltered as she closed the door and rushed after the barhand. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything? You come here unannounced, don’t even properly greet me–”

Khleo started making her way up the stairs.

“And now you’re what, just going up to my room?”

Khleo paused in her ascent. “And last time we were together,” she muttered more so to herself than to Cadenza, “You mentioned having nightmares.”

Cadenza couldn’t help bristling a little at the offhanded way Khleo spoke about their time together. Cadenza herself would have been lying if she said that she hadn’t been thinking about that night and every tender moment it held. 

But here Khleo was trundling up the stairs of Cadenza’s shop muttering about all that intimacy that was shared between them without much thought or even respect, it felt. 

The magician took a steadying breath and followed the barhand. She raised her voice again when Khleo barged into her room and made her way straight to the window. 

“Khleo, would you slow down and tell me what it is you’re doing? What do you want?”

Cadenza stayed at her door with her arms crossed while Khleo engaged in her strange investigation of the window. She opened it, then shut it before standing back and studying the entire opening. 

“I just wanted to check something.” 

Cadenza pushed her brows together. “That’s not an answer.”

Khleo turned around. Cadenza wasn’t prepared for her to march in her direction, jaw set and eyes looking beyond the magician into the hallway.

“Yeah, I’ll be back later this week.” The barhand swept past Cadenza. “See you, Denz.”

Cadenza didn’t know where she found the nerve, but her hand dashed around Khleo’s arm and she pulled as hard as she could. Khleo, who wasn’t expecting to be handled so roughly, stumbled against the wall. She looked into Cadenza’s face with new eyes now that they were touching and her stubborn train of thought had been broken.

“How dare you,” Cadenza seethed, “even think I would let you back into my home after you just came in here and–”

“Hey, hey,” Khleo surrendered her hands. “I’m sorry. Denz, listen.” She carefully lifted Cadenza’s hand from her bicep and placed it over her heart. The raven-haired magician couldn’t ignore the stretches of softness interrupting the mostly flat surface of her chest. But Khleo didn’t seem to care where Cadenza’s hand had landed. She said, “Last time we were together. What you did for me was…” After a few unsuccessful attempts, Khleo gave up on words. “Look, I want to do something for you. Got it?”

Cadenza let go of a breath that had been weighing uncomfortably on her since Khleo arrived.

“Is that all? You don’t have to–”

She fell silent into Khleo’s kiss. Not that much time had passed since they’d shared one, but Cadenza shivered all the same. She moaned and nipped for more, massaging the hand that was still pressed against the barhand’s chest.

With a broken groan, Khleo pulled back and used her strong arms to guide Cadenza’s hands to her sides.

“You’ve got to just let me do my thing. Alright, Denz?”

Since the use of her hands was currently unavailable, Cadenza leaned in and fitted Khleo’s suspender strap between her teeth. Then she dragged it to the right, making sure to deliberately nuzzle her chin where her hand had been earlier before tugging it off Khleo’s shoulder.

“You could do your thing to me right now if you want.”

Cadenza waited a moment before meeting Khleo’s gaze. The barhand was definitely struggling. She had the corner of her lip tucked between her canines and tracked Cadenza with hungry brown eyes.

“I…” Khleo’s gaze flickered. She shook her head. “I can’t right now. Not until I get this done.”

Cadenza blinked in disbelief as Khleo shrugged her suspender back into place and shifted her attention elsewhere, most likely back to working out this mysterious task. Cadenza walked the barhand to the door. Khleo seemed just as lost in her thoughts when she left as she had when she arrived.

***

The barhand showed up at the musician’s shop three days later with a short wooden ladder, a chunky wheel of rope, and some other tools that Cadenza presumed would aid in installation.

Khleo made it clear that she wasn’t open to discussion or explanation until after she was finished doing what she needed to. Looking at all of the strange equipment, Cadenza already felt like she was about to burst with questions, but she held them in, determined to respect Khleo’s wishes.

By the time they made it to Cadenza’s room, the raven-haired magician was content with lying across her bed and watching Khleo tinker away at the window. Khleo being completely consumed by her task gave Cadenza the freedom to stare as long as she wanted at the barhand’s healthy thighs and defined arms. She allowed herself more fantasies of prying the suspenders off of Khleo’s shoulders and rolling her stockings (lavender ones today) down and past her knees. 

Cadenza hardly noticed that her own hand began to drift down her form when Khleo suddenly thrust open the window and helped herself outside. The barhand grunted as she swung her legs to help with her climb to the roof.

Cadenza left the bed and walked to the opening. “What are you–”

“You’re going to want to stay back for this,” Khleo said, her legs still scrambling to gain enough momentum to haul herself completely up. “I have to do a few tests.”

Cadenza backed up from the window. “What sort of tests?”

The answer was clear a few minutes later with the sound of Khleo’s body rolling over the roof tiles and the sight of her tumbling past the window. Despite how disastrous this looked from Cadenza’s perspective, the barhand knew what she was doing. She always caught herself on the ledge, muttered some indiscenerable private commentary, and then hoisted her body once more to the roof to run another test.

Eventually, Cadenza gave up on standing at the window and watching Khleo topple off the roof repeatedly. The raven-haired magician took up a book, returned to the bed and got lost in her reading.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when Khleo finally approached the bed, interrupting Cadenza’s concentration.

“I’m done. Come have a look.” Khleo didn’t wait for Cadenza to put down the book. She took it upon herself to lift it out of the other’s hands and help her to her feet in one swift motion. Khleo kept her hold on Cadenza’s hand as she led her to her window where the ladder was there waiting for them. 

Khleo walked Cadenza through the steps of opening the window and maneuvering the hooked end of the ladder to the lip of the roof. She propped it in a way so that the other end wouldn’t slide against the floor when pressure was applied. After Khleo made sure Cadenza understood how to correctly position the ladder, she guided her onto it and followed in the rear. 

Cadenza tentatively climbed towards the sharply slanted part of the roof, wondering how they would be able to cross the last stretch of incline when Khleo said, “Grab that rope there.”

Cadenza nearly missed it. The heavy spool lay just within reach, nearly blending in with the russet tiles. Cadenza took it firmly between her hands and used it as an anchor in her climb. She was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to pull herself the rest of the way onto the flatter, more secure shelf.

Spry and sure-footed, Khleo pounced on the shelf after Cadenza and took a seat beside her.

Neither spoke. Or even looked at each other. Cadenza inhaled long, deep and cleansing breaths while Khleo listened to her with a mind that was finally at peace.

When Cadenza’s hand found Khleo’s, the barhand suppressed a sigh at the contrast of fine bones and uneven skin brushing up against her own. Khleo felt her hand being lifted before it was placed palm-side against Cadenza’s cheek. Still looking out at the stacked avenues and clustered rooftops, Khleo felt the pressure of Cadenza leaning into her hand. She also felt something warm and wet, but not much of it. Khleo swept it to the side with her thumb without a thought. Then she curled her fingers around the back of Cadenza’s head and pulled until her lips met the magician’s dark, wild crown.

Together they stayed this way until Cadenza told Khleo that she wanted to go back inside. Only after they had climbed back into the bedroom did Khleo look at Cadenza’s face again. The magician was smiling. More than Khleo had ever seen before, she was sure. 

A smile like that was enough to motivate Khleo to surge forward and playfully tackle Cadenza onto the bed. To Khleo’s delight, the magician was laughing before she hit the pillows. Khleo wasn’t shy in how she secured her arms and legs around her. Nuzzling against the magician’s ear, she said, “Now that I’ve got that taken care of, I just want to hold you.”

Cadenza snickered. “Just hold me? Are you sure that’s all?”

“Hm.” Khleo gave her thighs a thoughtful squeeze and rocked her hips. “Maybe fuck you a little too.”

Cadenza moaned unexpectedly against Khleo’s neck, making the barhand chuckle. 

“But really Denz, I’m tired. So when I say just a little, I mean it.”

Laughter bubbled up in Cadenza’s voice again. “Then you just relax, let me take care of the fucking.” She untangled herself from Khleo and sat up. “If I’m not mistaken, you haven’t had my fingers inside you yet.”

Khleo sat up too. “Sounds like you’re bragging.”

Cadenza met Khleo’s gaze, challenging her with hooded, gold-flecked eyes. “Maybe I am a little.”

Khleo’s gaze turned a little darker as she absently wet her lips. “Maybe you should put your money where your mouth is.”

Cadenza didn’t hesitate to reach for one of the barhand’s suspenders and tug it towards her. 

“Maybe you should come to the edge of the bed, take this off,” she let the suspender go with a light snap, “and shut up so I can take care of you.”

The skin under Khleo’s freckles warmed up very fast at the command. Her smile dropped and for a moment, her expression became unreadable. Cadenza wasn’t sure if she had crossed a line, but she firmly held her gaze through the silence.

Finally, Khleo rolled her eyes and kissed her teeth. “Plucky today, huh?” She started shrugging out of her suspenders. “You better be glad I like you.”

Cadenza’s heart pounded steadily at the passing of the tension combined with Khleo helping herself out of her shorts and moving to the edge of the bed to let her legs dangle off. Cadenza came up so that she was behind her. She wrapped her left arm loosely around Khleo’s waist while resting her other hand on her upper thigh.

“While I’m inside you,” Cadenza whispered, “is it okay for me to bite?”

A wave of satisfaction passed over Cadenza at Khleo’s reaction. Once the barhand got a handle on her words, she leaned her head back against the magician and said, “Go ahead.”

Cadenza brought her hand up to where Khleo was already weeping onto the mattress. To Cadenza’s surprise, Khleo didn’t go completely silent when she worked two fingers inside. The magician closed her eyes as she guided and curled her fingers past slippery, tight inner walls. She thoroughly enjoyed the sounds of her partner’s uneven breaths, louder than they would be otherwise. Khleo chuckled intermittently as if she were being tickled. Though she did her best not to show it, she did in fact squirm. She hummed and whimpered much like a restless housecat. It was all quite entertaining.

Cadenza couldn’t help murmuring, “You’re incredible, Khleo.”

Another breathless chuckle. “Nah. Just incredibly ho-hnnn.” She twisted unexpectedly in response to Cadenza deftly spreading apart her walls only to sneak in another finger.

Panting slightly, Khleo said, “Hey, when are you going to stop teasing me and actually start making me come, huh?”

Cadenza playfully bristled at the jab. “Teasing you, am I?” She didn’t give the barhand a chance to respond. Cadenza picked up her rhythm and made better use of her fingers.

Khleo strained, struggling to form words. Eventually, she managed to say, “Oh – quick! Bite me.”

Cadenza, who had forgotten all about her request from before, eagerly latched onto the muscle above Khleo’s collarbone. The barhand squirmed sharply. She threw their head back with an aggravated groan, pitching higher than her usual raspy tenor.

And that was when Cadenza realized… she played right into Khleo’s trap. Clearly the barhand was already very close to coming and the taunt was just insurance to get there faster.

Later, when Cadenza was sucking Khleo’s cum off her fingers, she said, “You know, you didn’t have to goad me. I would have let you come.”

Khleo was almost done pulling up her shorts. “Right, Denz. Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

[galespider]

Uraboku - Infernal Luka  🎵 -  Cellar Prison: Othercide

BEHAVIOR: Destruction ABILITIES: Brute Strength (Noted to be higher than Cadenza’s), Searing Claw and Tail, Magma/Incineration attuned magics, Levitation BRIEF DESCRIPTION: An otherwordly being spawned from the hellfires of the seventh hells. It is unknown why this replica took form, but rumor has it that this being was borrowed from the form of a powerful Opast known as Luka Crosszeria. Be warned. He will show no mercy in his wake if you ever encounter him and cause mayhem to make his enemies kneel before his might.

Proceed with caution.

Commissions, Deviantart, Twitter, Instagram

Something a little fun that I want to make with the Crosszeria Twins! You bet Luze’s is going to be up later on But with a different creature aesthetic. Good luck hunting. The pain of the details @_@

This was heavily based off from an Inktober drawing I did. And this is also a gift to @xzessx​ 👀 Hope your days are going well!