Nope not me not having caught up with Tumblr yet but posting another snippet of tragic fluff this time <<
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"So I… am stuck," she said, breathless, a terrible emptiness taking her over. "My life ends if I stay… and ends if I leave."
His hand upon her chest, Daeron apologized. Selessannea, however, shook her head.
"I can never blame you," she said, a smile on her face. "You have given me more than ever I expected to find. If my life must end here, then so be it. I will have known you, at least."
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Happy Blorbo Blursday from the Creators Club. Does your character miss anyone? Why do they miss this person? What would they be willing to do to see them again?
Oh well I kinda covered this over here without meaning to <<
So to give more context because it's both wholesome but also look away if you have any age gap triggers, Devon has been essentially this... presence in an important bloodline of the world. His first memory was Sorasiehn, whom he spent centuries with, and I discovered over time just how absolutely *core memory* this dysfunctional, never-defined relationship was. To the point that, when she died abruptly (unnatural death), he had to essentially shove all of the memories aside just to survive.
And went back to her home village, where he looked after Sorasiehn's daughter, Nefahtil, once she herself came back home (there's really too much context to give, bear with me that I shorten). Where things got tricky and um spiraled a bit is when Nefahtil had a daughter. A beautiful, gentle little soul with a power of her own, like her ancestors. Hers was a power of manipulation of the mind. A power she ended up not controling, as she didn't realize it essentially leaked from her.
Where it gets iffy and heartbreaking and I decide today I wanna talk about it, is that her power manipulated Devon's emotions. Not intentionally. But, as she grew older, into a young mature woman (I cannot stress her adultness enough), the fatherly feelings he had for her twisted into something wrong born from the buried feelings for Sorasiehn. Leading to Devon just... thinking he was in love, when his love was actually for Sorasiehn.
Before you scream at me in outrage: no, nothing happened. The man has some never-remembered trauma that makes intimacy for him impossible (thank fuck for that I say), and the fact of the matter is that, twisted as his feelings were, they were still nothing like the feelings he had for Sorasiehn (which I have been exploring since it was brought up to me that he sounded like something he's not, which hurt, buuuuuut led me to SO MANY FEELS about he and Sorasiehn that I am grateful for the pain now long gone). As said: twisted.
And it is this twisted nature of feelings that made him miss Selessannea with a blind madness completely unlike himself. That made him pursue necromancers and kill them mercilessly, lost in the grief of having watched her wither and die for a man he believed didn't love her (but, that man did, Devon simply couldn't/wouldn't see it). And all of this is *why* he missed Selessannea like a crazy man... because he was, in essence, crazy.
Now. Obviously, there was nothing he could've given or done to see her again, save to die - and even so. But, centuries later, he does encounter a true lethal creature who plays with his mind, too, and brings out all the actual grief but also anger he held for Selessannea, and twists that withering last image into an image of him killing her. Which I mention because it twisted things back into a sense of growing order. Snapped the twisted feelings back into their righful place, leaving room for different feelings to emerge. Different memories. Memories of Sorasiehn.
Where I'm at currently, he's not remembering Sorasiehn clearly yet, but he also doesn't miss Selessannea as he used to. The feelings have stabilized, righted themselves enough that I can feel relief. But ohhhh once he remembers her? Well, as I've seen in an AU with a close friend, the memory of Sorasiehn will be like death. It will be terrible. Devastating. Shred his heart to pieces and leave nothing standing.
And her, he will miss because he truly, genuinely, did love her, as she loved him, though neither of them ever defined these feelings, nor accepted them, nor acknowledged them. They lived side by side, vampire man and warrior elf, he proudly devoted and she fierce and cold, but oh how they cared about one another. For her, he would be willing to give anything to hold her again, just one more time.
(( @drawnecromancy I'll take french translations of those words, too 😛))
Here come the snips!
Dust - from Kristofa and Niskania's story (hasn't got a real title yet)
Through his soil-based abilities, Kristofa easily found his way to the nearest Human settlement, a small and cozy town called Farren. Kristofa was awed by the abrupt change in scenery: a sea of trees and nature turning to rectangular tall homes made of stacked rocks or bark shaped to boards. A cold surface the Humans called glass covered the windows, dead grass or hard panes served as a structure called roofs. Not a single home arched into a dome. Not a single edifice was covered in vines and light. Here, what they called the moons shone down through the night, a vast expanse of darkness speckled with dust that they called stars.
For an instant that obstructed his throat, Kristofa remembered a story Niskania had told him when they were children. Something about 'little lights' and the 'bright eyes of the dark, one small and one large'. He knew that he was supposed to understand something; but Kristofa merely knew to keep staring, dumbfounded. Mesmerized.
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Glower - from Ario's story part 5, From the Depths
"Are you alright, Yosen boy? You look awful."
"I'm dying."
The person chuckled. Ario immediately recognized him. "You must be fine if you can joke like that," Triku said. His laughter turned abruptly to a pained gasp, but he carried on, "Soba, however, won't be. Not like this. Whatever happened to him,…" Triku paused, his heart pounding with concern and regret. "This is no longer your place."
Your place? No: our place; the place, Ario thought about and he ardently wished he wasn't, his eyes transfixed on the top bunk, that Soba had but days ago befouled with his disgustingly wrong feelings. He needed to remind Soba of his wrongness; of the only way in which he was allowed to be wrong. Ario gritted his teeth and sniffled. Memories stared and smiled and glowered at him, collided with each other, jumbled, fragmented;
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Night - from Fragments of Selessannea's memories
For the first time in my life, when Devon reached out to me, I pulled away.
"Leave me be," I remember blubbering at him.
"Selessannea," he replied, and hearing my name spoken with such kindness after hearing him yell out with such ferocity made me feel sick. "This place isn't safe for you—"
"Of course it isn't! You're here!"
I did not regret my words right away. In that moment, a terrible disgust had taken over me, as well as the realization that malia had been right all along. I did not see my palo – I did not see the tears in his eyes, nor the shock on his face. All I saw was the blood coating his clothes, and the monstrous fangs protruding between trembling lips. The smell of him – something unnatural that defied description – made me feel sick. In that terrible moment, I wanted but one thing: for Devon to get out of my life, forever.
When Devon left, I did not cry. He was already long gone when a strange, uncharacteristic thought crossed my mind: that if he were to take his life that night to atone for all of his wrongdoings, I wouldn't even care. He'd have gotten what he deserved.
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Pierce - from The Life in your arms
The girl’s gaze pierced the darkness. He could not see her, but he felt:
She was reaching out. Attempting – and, this time, the term was correct – to communicate with him. She desired something. Something beyond his comprehension; but, he thought, not out of the realm of his abilities.
Lan lifted his head and looked around – at the impenetrable darkness that surrounded him. An idea crossed his mind.
He held out his arms towards the girl – towards where she had last sat, at least – and closed his eyes. Lan took a deep breath, and gathered within himself all the tingling moisture flooding the air itself. Air turned liquid in his breath; power coursed through his veins like rivers unleashed. Through his eyelids, he saw light. With his mind, he saw a large globe of glowing water, spinning and swirling before him - and then he was the water, and he was spinning and swirling and diving and dancing, joyous, unimpeded.
He was water; and he was everything.
But the girl was not. As her shaking fingers grazed the orb – grazed him – Lan perceived. There was a depth of liquidity within her, without a doubt… but it lied deep. Exceedingly deep. Engulfed by thick, viscous blackness that quivered at his touch, peeling away.
