7 Works by floralsea
Listing Works
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Summary
Anya awakes in an empty world.
Left to wander the ruins of places she once knew, the former nurse eventually becomes both scout and medic for other humans in the north, a role that brings them hope, but also makes her a target for the androids on the other side of the mysterious war she’d slept through – particularly when they discover her immortality.(AU where Anya wakes up 1 year before she does in canon)
- Sporadic Updates -
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Summary
After she sets the timer for 4 minutes, Anya taps his shoulder, an amused look on her face.
"...You have flour on you."
"Where?"
"Here." She reaches up with her other hand.
Delta finds himself feeling starved for air, as Anya's fingers run through his hair, dusting out the flour.
Her touch is warm, unlike his own temperature. Surely, that difference is why he has to suppress a shiver.
Anya stares at him, noting the shallow breaths he takes. Reflected in her eyes, his own gleam bright green - reacting to his increased heart rate.
To his anticipation.-
Anya and Delta both come to a realization. -
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The CD player whirs to life, filling the air with soft singing. They start practicing once more.
"You used to like to do this." Anya looks up at him.
"I did. In a sense," Delta muses, "my brother's wish that this also serve as a way for us to understand each other more backfired. Learning this only made me more fond of humanity. More keen to cling to it."
"Then you stopped." Anya leaves the when and why unsaid. They both know the reason.
"Then I stopped."-
Anya and Delta address what he's tried to leave behind.[NOTE: This is the EDITED version of the original 'Tide', which was originally published Dec. 06, 2024]
Series
- Part 3 of Anchor, Drift, Tide
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Summary
“In any case,” Anya says, clearing her throat, “in a purely physiological sense, neither of us are human. Normal humans don’t regenerate, and they don’t revive either. But that’s not what you mean when you say you aren’t human, is it?”
Delta says nothing for a few moments.
“...You seem to be trying to convince yourself of someone’s goodness in this situation. I am not good, Anya, and the scorn humans had for my family and I helped to make it so. Do not forget that.”
"Ah, I never said anything about good, did I?" Anya sighs. "I said human – that isn't the same. I've...learned about you, too, during this time. Enough to know you're likely going to resent me for saying this."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
Anya pours the mixture from the pan into a bowl, then meets his eyes, unflinching – the light of her teal gaze reminding him of a scalpel.
And true to form, her next words cut into him, further exposing a festering wound.
She stirs in the spices. "I know...my brother killed the part of you that hoped to coexist. But he didn't succeed at killing all of your humanity."-
Anya tries to find common ground with Delta. -
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"...I can't promise I'd be any good at it, anymore." Delta mutters.
"Any good at...sleeping?" Anya says, brows drawing together in confusion.
"Not sleeping." He studies her. "Something else I liked to do, before."
"And what would that be?" Anya turns to study him, curious.
"...Dancing." He finally says.
Surprise flashes across Anya's expression.
"Dancing?" She repeats.-
In the face of new knowledge, Anya and Delta talk, and learn a bit more.[NOTE: This fic is the ORIGINAL version of 'Tide', as it was when it was first published Dec 06 2024]
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Summary
If his memory serves, these flavors are used across many human holidays in both autumn and winter – an orange, a bay leaf, cinnamon sticks, ginger, cloves, cardamom, sage, and of course, the honey.
If Anya had any thoughts as to why these appear so frequently, she did not write it down.
In his case, it has been too many years at war with humans to come to a correct conclusion. The events leading up to Anya's departure are evidence enough of that.
He'd...forgotten that, despite her adapting quickly, Anya had not left her world behind.
"Perhaps..." He says. "Perhaps this will be useful."
A glimpse into a dead world, represented by an undying human.-
Delta discovers something Anya has left behind.Series
- Part 1 of Anchor, Drift, Tide
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It’s easier, somehow, to admit this now. “Actually, it was my mother who taught me that fear isn’t always so bad.”
“How so?”
“The dead don’t fear.” Anya says. “Only the living. That might’ve been her way of trying to hold on. As long as she was afraid, she wasn’t dead yet. She was right, you know. In the end, she wasn’t really afraid anymore.”-
Anya and Delta talk over a late baking session.Series
- Part 2 of Anchor, Drift, Tide