#To stitch these together and also I’m stuck on how to end it like I know someone could write this better then me

[glitter50000]

Fic inspiration

Ulla ducks her head and gives a humorless chuckle. “It was never the mother, was it?” 

Her father regards her with a pained smile. “No, it wasn’t.” 

———————————————————————

He loved Ulla, truly, grey skin and all, she was still his child. Her laughs and giggles would fill the air with a joyous melody. He knew Ulla showed more promise as a baby than most sildroher ever have during that age. 

On dark days a small, ugly part of him thinks of taking her back to shore, finding her birth mother, and thrusting the baby in her hands without a word as she did him, never visiting again. 

During the times when Ulla’s wails would bounce across the walls and make the flowers shrivel and rot. He didn’t have a problem with it, she had a strong voice after all, but when the others complained it was a different story. How they glared at the two of them or sneered at the baby for the tone of her cries. 

The times when his wife would look at Ulla with an odd look, something akin to fear, repulsion, or pity. When that specific look would be on him instead. He remembers squashing down the hurt at the time she recoiled at Ulla reaching her little hands out to her or having just stood there as the baby cried. 

He would never want to give Ulla away though, for he never regrets her in the first place. 

———————————————————————

“You can hold her if you want.” 

She’s broken out of some trance by his voice as he comes over to the crib. He chuckles a little at that, recalling the occasions when she would hold Ulla with a smile on her face, entertaining her with a song almost as if she forgets about the baby’s heritage. Though now it seems she remembers the other half. 

“She won’t bite,” he says amusedly. 

“I know that,” she mumbles, glancing at Ulla’s tail and his. He sighs and moves to pick Ulla up instead, scooping her up in his arms. 

“You must think I’m a whore.” He tells her bluntly. Sometimes he sees her looking at him with what could be a trace of disgust. Remembers how uncomfortable she seemed when they were courting each other and she first met Ulla and he confided in her about Ulla’s true parentage. Still, she wanted to marry him and look after her like she was her own, despite it all. 

“What,” she’s taken aback, “no, no I don’t think that's all, it’s just…” she trails off, gripping the edges of the crib tightly. It’s silent for a moment before his wife speaks again. 

“I wish she had been mine.” She whispers.

———————————————————————

He still thinks about her at times, the shadow summoner, either with anger or nostalgia. Looking back to when she made him sing symphonies during their lovemaking.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever would’ve met Ulla had she not been born with a tail. Or would she have taken her away wherever she went and he would still be waiting for the bell to ring? 

———————————————————————

Brave little Ulla. Coming home on the bad days when there’s too much teasing with tears in her eyes, yet still acting strong and holding her head high. 

[hxney-lemcn]

Looking Out For You — Giyū Tomioka x gn! hashira! reader

summary: your decision to befriend the reclusive water hashira turns your life around for the better.

tw: anxious and insecure reader, awkward convos, non-descriptive injuries, mentions of getting stitches.

a/n: I finally wrote for Kimetsu no Yaiba, been a fan of this when there was only one season of the show (read the entire manga as it got updated).

wc: 6k

Master List

It was no secret that the water hashira was a loner. He stuck to himself and blended into the background. At first you were neutral towards him, you were similar in a sense. Kept to yourself and tried to blend into the background. The big difference is that not only were you friends with the love hashira, but you had managed to endear yourself towards some of the others. You weren’t sure how you did it, but it was nice to know that they cared. For Giyū Tomioka, it was the complete opposite. 

You could only hear insults towards the man for so long. A part of you related to him, and hearing Kochō be so passive aggressive towards him made you feel unsettled. So you made up your mind, you were going to try and befriend Tomioka. You had been completely alone before, and you had wished for someone to befriend you, so you were sure he was longing for the same. 

You had told Mitsuri of your plan as you both walked towards the Ubuyashiki Estate. You all had been called for a brief. These were rare, but it was nice to see how your fellow hashira’s were, and also a perfect excuse to try and talk to the water hashira. Mitsuri was nearly jumping up and down at the information, an excited grin overtaking her features. 

“That’s so cute!” She squealed, clasping her hands together. “You have to tell me how it goes.”

“I already feel like I’m going to fail,” You said, slightly sweating at the thought. “Last time I tried to make a friend it ended up really awkward because I never know what to say.”

“Hm,” She hummed in thought. “Just try and find a connection.”

You purse your lips, “That’s easier said than done.”

It wasn’t much longer before you found yourself sitting next to the stoic man. Ubuyashiki was going over statistics, how we could improve and how well we’ve been doing. I felt myself getting more anxious by the second. After the meeting I would try and at least say hi, but I was wondering if that was a good idea. Seconds ticked by while you had basically toned out Ubuyashiki’s smooth voice, fingers fidgeting in your lap. Once you were all excused, you hyped yourself up, looking over to the black haired man.

 “Hello!” You said a little too loudly, a nervous smile adorned your lips as  you gained Tomioka’s attention. 

His blank stare watched you for a few seconds before replying, “Excuse me.”

Then he left. 

…just like that. You blinked, mouth dropping in slight awe at just how fast he managed to escape. You had spent so long going over situations and anxious thoughts…only for him to barely acknowledge you. 

You didn’t even realize Mitsuri joined you until she spoke up, “Maybe next time?”

You turned your attention to the green eyed beauty, a pout adorning your lips, “He didn’t even say hi back.”

“Ara ara~” Kochō joined us, an empty smile placed on her lips. “I’m afraid it’s a lost cause.”

Your playful pout had turned into a frown, your feelings towards the insect pillar were mixed. She was blunt, which would be nice at times, but others it could be harsh. “Oh well,” You shrugged. “At least I’ll be able to say I tried.”

You had accidently ran into Tomioka only a few days later. You were walking back to your estate, exhausted after a long mission. It was more tedious than difficult, as the walking had been longer than the fight by far. You couldn’t believe your eyes when they landed on the split patterned haori. Before your anxiety could get the best of you, you approached him.

“Hello!” You waved, this time not shouting. “How are you doing Tomioka-san?”

Once again his stoic features watched you briefly, like he was trying to gauge your intentions, “I’m doing fine.”

Yes! He couldn’t run away like last time, you’ll make sure of it.

“How old are you?” You asked, genuinely curious. He looked both young and old in a sense, and you were curious where you stood compared to your ages.

Another awkward pause as you both stood on the trail, Tomioka finally answered, “Ninteen.”

Your mouth dropped open, unable to hide your surprise, “Nineteen! I thought you were at least twenty-two!” Tamioka only glanced away awkwardly, and you waved your hands around. “Not that it's a bad thing, I’m only twenty! So we’re really close in age. Besides, Tokitō’s fourteen so nineteen isn’t that bad…sorry I’m rambling.”

Your anxiety started to run rampant, this is the most you had spoken to the water pillar and it was really awkward. You both seemed to be in the same boat as he awkwardly nodded, arms crossed as his eyes couldn’t meet yours. An awkward silence encompassed you both and you felt yourself losing your composure.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized again, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “I want to befriend you but I’m very bad at talking to others. Mitsuri-chan recommended finding something we both relate to, but I am unsure how to do that.” You weren’t sure if your mind was playing tricks on you, but you swore Tomioka’s eyes widened slightly, head tilting ever so slightly. He almost reminded you of a puppy. 

“We shouldn’t be friends,” Tomioka’s tone spoke with finality. Your brows furrowed, you could understand him saying that, but the sting of rejection overpowered your thoughts. Normally you’d bow as an apology and scurry away to mull over all the points in which you made yourself look like a fool, but your wish to friend him overpowered that.

“Why not?” You asked, a slight frown pulling on your lips. 

Tomioka opened his mouth only to close it, eyebrows furrowing in thought. Finally, he replied, “I don’t want to be friends with you.”

You nodded, the sting of rejection spreading. You felt your face flush in embarrassment as you bowed, “I apologize, I wish you well Tomioka-san.”

You quickly turned around, rushing towards your estate, shame and embarrassment continuing to flood through you. You had quickly written a letter to Mitsuri, venting about how embarrassed you were. You had been sent on another mission shortly after, allowing you to forget about your embarrassing fiasco, at least for a brief moment. You were nearly back to normal, your restless nights finally ceasing as the memory started to fade to the back of your mind. Until it was violently forced back to the forefront.

You had found yourself resting in the same wisteria house as Giyū Tomioka. You both sat in silence, eating your food without acknowledging the other. It felt wrong, like you should say something, but those words he spoke rang in your head, holding you back, ‘I don’t want to be friends with you.’ 

You hate to admit it, but that simple sentence had brung back insecurities you thought you had overcome. You didn’t blame him, not at all. It wasn’t Tomioka’s fault that you had seemed to crumble due to one person's seemingly unapproval of you. You ate with your head bowed, hoping that you weren’t annoying him in any way. Was it the way you looked? The way you talked? Had you rambled too much in your nervousness? Did your mere aura annoy him? If so, you felt even more guilty for making him sit in your presence. 

Tomioka on the other hand hadn’t noticed your inner dilemma. Although he did find you seeming to shrink in on yourself further and further unusual, he wasn’t sure what your normal was. You hadn’t seemed to act like this around the other hashira’s, he only saw glimpses of you. If he were to be honest, he had seen the way you interacted with Mitsuri, so lively and happy. He wished he could experience that side of you, but he knew he had ruined any chance already. ‘I don’t want to be friends with you,’ those words haunted him. It was a lie, he did in fact want to be friends with you, but you were better off without him. He would only manage to drag you down.

“Are you finished?” Tomioka asked. You hadn’t even realized you had stopped eating. Looking up at him for the first time, you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh! Uh, yeah,” You stumbled. “Here, I can clean up.” Moving faster than he could protest, you had grabbed the empty bowls and started cleaning, not wanting to be a burden. The lady of the house was surprised when you approached her with the dirty dishes, asking where to set them. When she protested you helping her wash them, you begrudgingly made your way back to your shared room for the night. 

“Thank you,” Tomioka spoke up randomly, causing you to glance at him.

“It’s okay,” You shrugged, prepping your futon to your liking. “I like helping.”

It was harder for you to fall asleep than you’d like to admit. You had been running around for the past few days and it seemed that your mind couldn’t settle just yet. You kept your eyes closed, willing yourself to sleep as your body felt exhausted. 

It was even harder for you to fall asleep as Tomioka had murmured into the night, “I wish we could be friends, but this is for the best.”

Great, now you really weren’t going to fall asleep. 

The sun was just starting to shine through the windows, causing you to slowly wake up. You were surprised that you had awoken earlier than Tomioka. He looked so peaceful, the usual tension in his face had been relaxed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you went to take care of yourself in the bathroom. Your foggy mind slowly remembered the restless night before, how Tomioka had confessed to wanting to be friends with you when he thought you were asleep. Now that you knew that you weren’t the problem/reason, you were going to try even harder to befriend him.

When you returned to the room, you had half expected the room to be empty, but to your delight, Tomioka was still there, having just woken up.

“Good morning,” You smiled sleepily, still feeling sluggish. You tried to ignore how cute he looked as he rubbed his eyes.

“Good morning,” Tomioka replied back softly. 

“Did you sleep well?” You asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. While talking, you made your way to your satchel, making sure everything was in order.

“Yes,” He replied, the sounds of shuffling cloth coming from behind you. Glancing back, you watched as he was about to leave. “Excuse me,” He alerted, sliding the door open and leaving. At first you thought he was leaving completely like the last time, except you noticed his sword was still in the room. 

‘Good,’ You thought. ‘He should at least eat something before leaving.’

The lady of the house knocked on the door before entering, a bright smile on her face. You both chatted briefly as she set up a zataku table, loading some food on top. Tomioka entered the room not long after, glancing at the food but ignoring it. Swallowing the bite of taiyaki, I spoke up, “You should join me! The food’s really good.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tomioka muttered.

You bit your lip, trying to think of how you could get to know him better, “Not even for just a bite of rice?” His deep blue eyes glanced at me, pausing before he grabbed his sword, then his eyes drifted to the food. “I really can’t eat this all by myself,” You said, hoping that would finally entice him. It seemed your persuasive skills were better than you thought (or his loneliness was finally getting the best of him). 

As you both sat at the table, you found yourself rambling about your mission. The awkwardness between the both of you from before had seemed to vanish (on your end at least) as you talked to fill the silence. How the demon’s you were sent to kill had become more challenging, how the treck left you exhausted, how awkward you were around to kakushi. It got to the point of you rambling about this cute Ezo red fox you saw.

Tomioka may be a bit oblivious at times, but he had noticed this drastic change. Just last night you barely let out a peep, and now you were talking about anything and everything. He didn’t mind, no one has talked with him in such a way since…Sabito. It felt very bittersweet for him. He could only ponder on what caused your change, and he hoped that you hadn’t heard his confession last night. Especially since he found his will to be weaker than he’d like to admit. 

…

Misturi was a very good listener. The way she’d dramatically gasp or watch with bated breath. You knew she was hanging on to every word you spoke. When you had finished filling her in on everything that had happened between both you and Tomioka she squealed. 

“You two are so cute!” She smiled brightly, finishing another bowl of pork cutlet.

“More like we’re both awkward,” You mumbled. Picking at your food (still only on your first portion).

“He said he wanted to be your friend!” She pointed at you with her chopsticks. 

“But I’m not sure how to proceed,” You complained. “Do I just keep talking his ear off about random stuff? I feel like that’ll get annoying quickly.”

“Why don’t you get him something?” She asked, sipping some tea. “Maybe that’ll open him a little.”

“Hmm,” You pondered. What would you even get him? “Maybe.”

So you had continued to think about what a reclusive water hashira may like. It didn’t help that you were in the midst of a market. Vendors resided on either side, showing off their wares to entice customers to view their stalls. You took in the sites, yet nothing really caught your eyes. That was until a vendor who was selling omamori. You were surprised to find someone selling these charms outside of a shrine, so you were a bit weary of the product, but they seemed to be made from genuinely good materials.

You perused the items, there were many different colors and intentions. Finally, you picked out a blue omamori that wishes for happiness. You didn’t really think much of it. You did, in fact, wish Tomioka happiness. The rest of your mission went smoothly, and you sent Tomioka a letter upon your arrival. In the time it took for your crow to come back, you had almost forgotten of the invite. You felt yourself waiting anxiously for the time to come, tidying up your estate even more (much to the kakushi’s dismay), making sure you had enough tea and snacks. 

By the time Tomioka had arrived, you already had two cups of tea and a snack platter set out on your engawa. It was a nice warm and bright sunny day, and you might as well enjoy the scenery of the forest that surrounded your estate. You greeted him with a bright smile, coaxing him to sit down. The both of you savored the tea, sipping in silence. It was nice. Normally you’d feel pressured to say something, like you were failing at keeping the other person entertained, but at the moment you felt peaceful. Sharing a warm cup of tea on a nice day with someone you cared about. 

You watched as the sun rays fell down, barely hitting the forest floor. Rabbits hopping about as insects buzzed around. You quite liked your estate, you were grateful for all that Ubuyashiki has given you. It was in a secluded area not too far from a small village. It gave you a space for yourself, but you were still close enough to society that you weren’t a hermit. You enjoyed nature as well, watching animals was one of your favorite hobbies as you discovered silly little behaviors that they would do. Though as a hashira you found yourself having less and less time to yourself. 

“I have something for you,” You finally spoke up. You both had finished a cup of tea and some of the snacks were gone. You turned your gaze to Tomioka, only to meet his ocean blue eyes. You took the omamori out of your pocket and handed it to the water hashira. He hesitated before finally accepting the gift. You bit your lips, trying to suppress the giant grin that threatened to spread across your lips. A light pink dusted across his cheeks as he stared at it. 

“You didn’t have to,” He replied, eyes still on the gift. “...thank you.”

“No biggie,” You waved it off. “I saw it and thought of you.” You didn’t realize what you said until you had said it. Your eyes widened, and Tomioka’s blush seemed to only intensify. Deciding that ignoring the remark was the best option, you started talking about your last mission and the market you had found that charm in. A giddy feeling overwhelmed you as you watched Tomioka pocket the charm, his gaze looking warmer than usual. 

It was safe to say both you and Tomioka were quite close to each other now. You were someone he enjoyed spending time with and you loved being in his presence. The awkwardness that had initially been a part of your relationship fizzled, a warm atmosphere left in its wake. The two of you would spend time over tea, mostly at your estate, but you were proud to say you’ve spent time at his as well. Sometimes you found yourself going on walks on the trails that littered across your property, and you would point out animals you’d observed and little facts you found out about them over the years. Tomioka thought that if demons hadn’t screwed over the world, you’d have made a wonderful researcher.  

The feeling of something slipping into your pocket had put you on edge. Turning your head swiftly to the side, you stared at Tomioka with wide eyes. He stared at you back, eyes wide and cheeks a light pink. He had been caught. He didn’t know what he was expecting, you were a highly skilled hashira, trained to detect the slightest thing off. Slipping your hand into your pocket, you pulled out an omamori. You felt your face flush as it was not only your favorite color, but it was an anti-evil omamori. 

“Thank you, Tomioka-san,” You thanked with a bright smile. You were so busy trying to figure out how to attach the charm to the hilt of your sword, you almost missed Tomioka’s next words.

“Giyū,” He muttered, head turned away from you. You stared at him slightly in confusion until he clarified, “You can call me Giyū.”

“Thank you, Giyū-san,” You clarified, smiling so wide it felt like your cheeks hurt. “You can call me by my first name as well.” He nodded, still not facing your direction. Tugging gently at his haori, you led him to continue your walk along the trail, the day seeming a lot brighter than before. 

…

“Please Giyū-san,” You pleaded, putting on your best puppy dog eyes.

He tried his hardest to not meet your gaze, feeling his resolve slowly crumbling, “I…am busy that day.”

“Pleeeeease,” You drawled out, hands clasped as you jutted out your bottom lip. “I don’t want to be stuck as a third wheel.” He had accidently met your gaze, and he felt himself fold, how could you look so cute? 

“Fine.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You exclaimed, pulling him into a hug without a second thought, squeezing him tightly to try and express your gratitude. “I love Mitsuri-chan but Iguro-san scares me.” Giyū stood stiff, arms fell limply at his sides. Unsure what to do, he awkwardly patted your back before you pulled away. Your warmth that had seeped into him seemed to vanish and he immediately wished you held him for just a moment longer. 

The dinner had arrived too quickly for his liking. Although he found himself wanting to spend more time with you, and he didn’t mind Kanroji, Iguro had made his distaste of the water hashira clear multiple times. He hasn’t spent time with you in the presence of others, and he was scared that you’d finally come to your senses and sever your ties with him. 

He had arrived at least fifteen minutes early, which was exactly when you arrived as well. Giyū couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as he approached. You stood to the side of the restaurant that you were all to dine in. You wore a simple kimono, but he couldn’t help but find himself astounded. He thought you were ethereal in your uniform and haori, but seeing you in such casual wear had seemed to revise your beauty in another light. 

You, on the other hand, felt blood drain from your face. Giyū had been the next to arrive after you, and he was wearing his uniform. Your brain had become frenzied as you wondered if you had enough time to make it back to your estate and change your clothes. You didn’t want to stand out amongst your friends. 

“Wait, is everyone going to be in their uniform?” You blurted, feeling slightly dizzy at the thought. Giyū, still being stunlocked, seemed oblivious to your turmoil, shrugged. Your shoulders raised as Giyū stood next to you, waiting for the other two to join. Your brain continued to bug you for ten minutes, and only got worse upon notice of their outfits. Both in their uniforms. You felt your face flush in embarrassment, wanting to hide behind the water hashira as Mitsuri and Iguro spotted you both. 

“Hi!” Misturi waved enthusiastically before gasping your name. “Your kimono is so cute!” Unconsciously, you slightly hide yourself behind Giyū, not enjoying all the eyes on you. This is exactly why you didn’t like standing out in a crowd. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, hand grasping gently at Giyū’s haori. Normally, you wouldn’t have such a harsh reaction to being in such a position, but you could feel Iguro’s eyes watching your every move, judging your every decision. But you’d have to endure it, for Mitsuri’s sake. 

Giyū wasn’t faring much better. He hadn’t expected you to become so shy, using him as a shield. It made him feel a bit prideful and protective, you had chosen him even though you had been friends with Kanroji for longer. Though he also felt a bit embarrassed, unsure how to react to such a situation. He had never thought someone he found attractive would look at him, let alone find comfort in him in such a way. 

You all had entered the restaurant, Mitsuri trying not to squeal at the site before her. She had been trying to refrain from mentioning how your relationship with Giyū seemed to be some romantic plot from a novel she’s read. Every detail you shared with her had her blushing in excitement. She had recalled when you told her you didn’t expect to find love in this lifetime. As a demon slayer, you had little freetime, and the fact that you never knew if the day was going to be your last would loom over you until demons were eradicated. So having friends was tough, and a lover even tougher. She couldn’t be more overjoyed by the fact that you had managed to find someone even with the complications. Which led her to this master plan with Obanai, a secret double date (it would be a double date in her heart). A double date where only one person knew of it as such. 

Once you all got in, you found yourself feeling more comfortable. You found yourself in a comfortable conversation with Mitsuri, both your companions silent as they eyed the other up. It was a comical site for anyone who witnessed it. Mitsuri had beat us all in the amount she consumed, a bright smile as she asked for another. The atmosphere was warm in the small restaurant, the night sky shining through the windows. You slightly felt bad for Iguro and Giyū, as they both seemed out of their element, but overall it was a fun night. It almost felt like a date due to the fact Giyū insisted on walking you home. 

It didn’t take long after that night for you to realize your feelings. You were helping two lower ranked demon slayers defeat a demon. At the end of the battle they had checked in on the other, making sure they were both relatively okay before embracing. It had reminded you of how you treated Giyū, and suddenly it all came crashing down on you. You were in love with Giyū Tomioka. The two demon slayers had thanked you, as you weren’t there to help them initially. They were surprised at how kind you were towards them, remarking how they heard all the hashira’s were cold. You quickly waved them off with a slight laugh, explaining how most of you were just trying to get by like the rest of them. 

You had continued to stew on your feelings, unable to think of anything else. Your mind had been so dangerously drifting off, you found yourself injured. Not gravely, thankfully, but enough for you to end up in butterfly manor. 

“It’s rare to find you here,” Kochō commented as she cleaned your wound, causing you to wince. “Is something the matter? Have you finally realized the lack of heart Tomioka has?”

You frowned, unsure if unpacking your feelings to Kochō was the right play. It wasn’t due to Tomioka’s lack of heart, rather how much heart he has. Your eyes drifted to the sword leaned against the wall next to your current bed, the omamori charm dangling tauntingly. 

“No,” You confessed, hands clenching as she cleaned a particularly deep wound. “It’s actually quite the opposite.”

You took slight satisfaction in the surprise Kochō’s eyes held, but her empty smile didn’t waver, “Don’t tell me he’s managed to trick you somehow.”

“No,” You once again simply answered. “It’s all my own doing.” That was true, in a sense. Of course you couldn’t control your own feelings, but it was you who pushed past Giyū’s barriers and managed to sneak your way into his heart, just as he had snuck his way into yours. Though you weren’t sure if he viewed you in such a way, and you didn’t want to push him farther than he could handle. 

Without pause, Kochō took out a suture kit, threading the needle. Your eyes widened in horror. You’ve only needed stitches very few times, and the nausea you felt when a needle was presented never left. Mercifully, Kochō took out a balm and applied it to the skin around your wound. 

Waiting for a few moments to let the balm numb your skin, she spoke up, “Don’t get your hopes too high with him.” It was at that moment that you realized that Kochō was looking out for you…in a passive aggressive way. Although you didn’t exactly like the way she showed this care (by insulting Giyū), you still felt touched that she even cared in the first place. 

“Don’t worry,” You shrugged. “They’re never really high in the first place.” It was that moment she deemed worthy to pierce your skin. 

…

You didn’t need too many stitches thankfully, but even with the numbing the process was excruciating. You were relieved when the bandages were finally applied and Kochō bid you farewell. You were sore all over, waiting for the medicine Kochō made you take to finally kick in. Not only were you sore and tired, but you felt slightly ashamed. You allowed your emotions to overtake you and get injured in battle. You were a hashira, these simple things weren’t meant to let your guard down. 

You had been so absorbed in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed said water hashira entering your room. Kochō hadn’t been too surprised when she saw him stalking down the hall as she exited your room. With your previous conversation, and the bits Kanroji accidentally let slip, she had pieced together that Tomioka wasn’t all she thought he was. It was hard for her to believe that he would care about someone, but now that she witnessed the terror that shone in his blue eyes, he had even managed to surprise her. 

“They’re resting,” Kochō said, a fake smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Visiting hours aren’t open for them yet.”

Giyū didn’t even pause, continuing his trek to your room. It didn’t matter that his crow had told him you were only mildly injured, or the fact that Kochō left your room (a clear indicator that you were fine), he needed to see that you were okay with his own eyes. He had lost so much already, and he surrendered himself of such attachments, not only because he didn’t deserve it, but because he didn’t want to go through that again. You had managed to brighten his days again, he looked forward to waking up, wondering if he’d get to hear you laugh that day. All the good came crashing down the second he heard of your injured state.

You were both demon slayers, hashira at that, so you were bound to face injury. Yet he couldn’t help but blame himself. For what? Even he wasn’t sure, but he felt like it was due to the fact you were close to him. Karma for being the one to always survive. So when he quietly opened the sliding door, a breath of relief passed his lips as he saw you stare out the window. The sun hit your figure, causing a warm glow to light up your features. The usual smile that was on your face had turned into a frown, eyes distant. He wasn’t sure what to do. He had accomplished his mission, he’s seen you with his own eyes and you’re breathing perfectly fine, although the bandages that littered your face tugged at his heartstrings. 

“Oh, hello,” You spoke softly, snapping Giyū out of his thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, internally berating himself for asking such a stupid question. Of course you aren’t okay, you're sitting in a hospital bed at butterfly manor.

“I’m fine,” You smiled slightly. “Just some small injuries. Honestly all this pampering is a little too much if you ask me.” That was a slight lie on your part. It was clearly not just small injuries, or you wouldn’t have been taken to butterfly manor. You felt bad for the poor kakushi that had to tend to your injuries enough so you wouldn’t bleed out as they carried you all the way here. 

Giyū also seemed to sense your lie, his blue eyes unwavering from their intense stare. His eyes raked your body, trying to pinpoint all the injuries that littered your body. Fortunately for you, most of the injuries were hidden by your clothes and blanket. With a sigh, you patted the bed, gesturing for him to sit and join you. He did so hesitantly, ending up sitting as close to the edge as he could. You felt your mood lighten at the sight, the seriousness from before slowly dissipating. 

“You can sit closer silly,” You chuckled lightly. He scooted just slightly, and you smiled at him. “Okay so maybe I needed some stitches, but that was the worst of it. Really, I’m fine.”

Giyū’s shoulders slumped, finally he seemed to be able to calm down. You were fine, truly. You were still there, still sitting by him, still smiling at him, still laughing. Your breath hitched at how intense his gaze was. You felt your face flush as he stared at you with utter adoration. You felt your own gaze soften, probably matching his own. 

“It was my own fault,” You muttered, hoping to quell his worries further. “I was distracted, but that won’t happen again.” His eyebrows furrowed, the silent question in his eyes being loud enough for you to understand. Scratching your cheek, you looked away to try and hide your embarrassment. Should you just say it? Get it off your chest? Would he be weirded out? 

“I was thinking about you.”

Now you both were avoiding eye contact, flustered more than you’d like to admit. He hadn’t expected that. What exactly were you thinking? Have you been thinking about him often? It left him feeling warm at the thought. For some odd reason, it made him happy. 

The silence between you both grew, and you felt more anxious the longer it lasted. “Not…not  in a weird way,” You defended weakly, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. Glancing up at him your eyes widened in wonder as a tiny smile pulled on the edges of his lips, red dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. If you could capture this moment, you would in a heartbeat. Deciding that now was your chance, you ripped the bandaid off.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

This time Giyū stared at you in disbelief, and you wondered if you did the wrong thing. But he had smiled earlier! The first smile you had ever seen grace his beautiful features. Perhaps you came to the wrong conclusion. Both of you stared at the other, waiting for the other to make a move. Your heart beat faster and faster the longer he stayed frozen. His entire face and neck was engulfed in a violent shade of red, and you were scared you might’ve broken him. 

“You don’t have to love me back or anything,” The words quickly tumbled passed your lips. “And I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. That’s a weird thing to confess to your friend.”

That seemed to snap him back, he looked down at his lap, trying to regain composure. He found it harder and harder to remain stoic in your presence. The emotions he repressed would always flow to the forefront when you were around, and although it could be overwhelming at times, he still welcomed the feelings. Not sure how to convey his feelings properly (he surely didn’t trust his mouth to say the right thing), he scooted a little closer to you. You watched with bated breath, unsure where he stood on your feelings (he really didn’t make it easy to read him either).

“I reciprocate your feelings,” He replied, voice wavering just slightly. You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly. You weren’t sure what you expected, but such a formal response actually made you feel a bit better. Clearly this was new to both of you and you both weren’t sure how to go about this new territory. But that was fine, because you both could traverse it together.

…

Only a few days later, Mitsuri had managed to visit you. Giyū had refused to leave your side, assisting you with the simplest tasks. You felt bad for the girls who brought you your necessities as Giyū would watch their every move, ensuring you got all that you needed. When Mitsuri entered your room, she hadn’t expected to see the water hashira sitting next to you, let alone so close! Her green eyes took in the scenario, Giyū not meeting her gaze as he felt flustered that he was caught. You smiled brightly at the love hashira, welcoming her into the room.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” She apologized. 

“It’s okay,” You waved off her concern. “Giyū-kun has been keeping me company.”

Mitsuri couldn’t hold back her squeal, the two of you clearly have grown closer, dare she say you two have a more intimate relationship. Giyū looked even more flustered, head turned away from the both of you. 

“You have to tell me everything!”

[briarmoon1015]

What are your headcanons on the halbarry?

lol I have so many headcanons buckle in

1. I’m a big fan of Barry falling first but Hal falling harder. We do not get enough of pining Barry and I need it. I need to see more of Barry letting Hal crash at his place, and having to hold back any feelings he may have as the two eat like five pizzas and watch the latest Star Wars movie that Hal missed in space. Barry is a master at holding in his secrets, so it just makes so much sense to me

2. I like to headcanon that Barry isn’t a fan of pda, but the instant someone isn’t around he’s very touchy. Doing things like brushing hands with Hal or knocking knees makes him giddy.

3. I also like to think that Hal gets pretty bad insomnia when he gets back to earth from long space missions. His ring makes it so he doesn’t need sleep, so getting back into that cycle can be difficult. Barry also has pretty bad sleep habits. I imagine speedsters struggle to sleep eight hours straight thanks to how fast their bodies work, and with Barry having a somewhat typical 9-5, he isn’t catching up on sleep any other time. Whenever Hal gets home they both focus on getting their sleeping patterns down, and find it a lot easier to do with the other one around.

4. Hal knows he’s one of Barry’s lightning rods and takes full advantage of it. He will be getting healed by Barry after every stupid situation he gets himself into, and he will drag Barry out of the speed force every time Barry tries to do something even stupider. He also tries not to get stuck in other dimensions or in the speed force himself, just to avoid throwing Barry off.

5. Whenever Hal is away on missions, Barry will often go outside to star gaze. He doesn’t tell anyone it’s because he’s missing Hal, but his family will join him anyways. Hal, on the other hand, likes to find the direction earth is in and just take a moment to breathe.

6. Hal is a Star Wars fan and Barry is a Star Trek fan. They get into a ton of nerdy arguments about it, but they both watch them together. They also love Top Gun. It’s Hal’s favorite movie for obvious reasons, but I think it’d be hilarious if it was also Barry’s gay awakening.

7. Neither of them are good at cooking. Barry’s lack of patience while trying to heat things up often means undercooked food, or overcooked when he tries to use his powers to heat things up. Hal can make a couple of really good dishes but beyond that he is incapable of making edible food. It never turns out right because he tries to do his own thing instead of following a recipe, and ends up getting the proportions all wrong. They often eat out.

8. I need to stress how nerdy each one is. Barry may seem like it the most with his love of chemistry and dressing up like an old man half the time, but Hal will talk your ear off about planes. Not even just types and models, but also weird history facts about them, and mysterious crashes that happened. Because of this, Barry now is quite good at telling the make of a jet, while Hal has a good chance of being able to tell you what chemical compounds you are looking at.

9. On occasion, the two will need to stitch each other up. Hal is a lot faster at it, but his technique isn’t always perfect. It does make do, however. Barry, on the other hand, more gentle and effective, but he’s quite slow at it. He tends to overthink each stitch.

10. Hal doesn’t let a lot of people wear his dad’s jacket, but he often leaves it with Barry when in space. Barry often will leave it on the kitchen table chairs as a reminder of Hal, and will occasionally fix it up if need be. Having to mend his own suit has made Barry a pretty good seamstress, but he takes extra care with Hal’s jacket.

These are just some general ones :) hopefully you enjoy them

[skyfallslayer]

A Stitch In Time || Prologue

-Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader-

Series Masterlist

° Series Summary: A Time Heist mission goes wrong, and some of the Avengers end up in the 1950s. Desperately clinging to their lives, they wind up in a place subconsciously. And unfortunately for Steve, and especially to Bucky, they find themselves face to face with someone they wish not to see.

° Chapter Summary: Worried about how his mission may go, Bucky visits a ‘touchy’ place, and recalls the short life he had with you.

° Date: 7/20

° Rating: Teen

° Word Count: 4,569

° Warning: Talks about death/dying; Reference to Suicide; Guilt; Child Abandonment; Talks of Fertility Issues; Alcohol; Allusions to Depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

° A/N: The only excuse I have for taking so long to get this out is because I had an expected mental health break. One that was needed. But I'm back! And I'm slowly updating some of my other stories! So be on the look out for those! Also, let me know if I missed any warnings! Enjoy!

The freshly wetted grass squished underneath his boots with each and every step. His shoulders were slacked, but his wrists were tense as he held the delicate bouquet with both of his hands. He was always nervous to be here, even though he’s done it so many times after finding it, the nervousness never went away. The nausea never stopped too… or the guilt… the fear… the sadness. Nothing ever stopped like he so desperately wanted to. Was this a curse he was stuck with for helping to bring another child into this cruel world?

He reaches the end of his line, just a few short inches away from where his toes could touch the stone; The stone etched with words and numbers that made his heart ache. And when his knees felt weak he lowered himself to the ground, sitting back on his heels. With a bittersweet expression on his features, he removes the old lilies and replaces them with your favorite, pearly white ones. The ones you always smelled like when you came back from playing in the park. Who knew he would miss such a fragrance? 

He takes a deep inhale through his nose, and exhales quietly, gathering his thoughts. “Hey, baby girl. It’s been some… time since I’ve visited. I honestly thought I should wait until your half birthday, but…” He trails off, frowning. “But uh, I’m heading off on another mission tomorrow, a… potentially dangerous one.” He chuckles dryly. “You know the deal with those.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for your answer he knows he won’t get, letting the hot summer wind touch his face and through his chocolate locks. He waited for that as his cue to continue on.

“Uh… so…”

It hurts to even think about it.

“I was just…”

Should he even say it?

“Wondering again if it goes south I can…”

Should he repeat what he always says to your grave?

“Be next to you?”

Another pause, this time it felt more painful. It always hurts to be here. It always hurts to say those words because it wasn’t like he had a death wish, it wasn’t like he was afraid of death, he just… didn’t know if he deserved to be next to you. You were his whole world and he fucked it up. Fucked it up so bad that it makes him more anxious to want to hold you, and hug you, and kiss you, and just talk to you. He loves you. 

He’s loved you since the very beginning.

.

.

.

Bucky would have fallen back in shock if it wasn’t for the small bundle in his arms. His ex-girlfriend had just said some words that he didn’t need to hear right now. Couldn’t even comprehend it.

No, it wasn’t, ‘Can we get back together? I made a mistake’.

No, It wasn’t, ‘The baby isn’t yours’.

No it was–

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked, disbelief etched in his words. There was also an underlying sense of anger and betrayal, because–

She couldn’t be serious...

Right?

He watched the woman standing in front of him roll her eyes, snatching her purse from his living room’s couch while responding, “I don’t want her. I only had her because you wanted to keep the baby after finding out I was pregnant.”

He nearly doubled over when he heard the disgust in her voice. “So you’re just going to leave?” Bucky asked, seeing his ex now putting on her winter coat. “But our daughter needs a mother figu–”

“YOUR daughter.” His ex snapped, poison on her tongue. “That baby–” She points furiously. “That baby is a spitting image of you. All the way from the shape of her face to the way she smiles. Everything. Which is fine by me, I don’t want someone looking like me out in the world.”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak as he followed her behind as she walked towards the front door. Unfortunately, she beats him to it. “As for a mother figure, you’ve got three sisters and a mom. That baby can pick up skills from them.”

She swings the door open, letting in the cold breeze of February. Snowflakes flew in, sticking to her clothes and curly hair. Bucky immediately stood sideways and drew you as far away as he could from the freezing air.

(Was she trying to freeze you?!)

“Dottie!” He called out from the doorway, stopping her on the porch.

She wasn’t even going to look back at him, wasn’t she? Or even look at you? Did she truly not feel anything?

He doesn’t know why but his voice cracked, and although he and his ex’s relationship was always rocky, and they both knew that whatever was between them wasn’t going to work out, he still doesn’t want her to leave him alone with a one week old.

“Come on…” He continued, quietly. “At least stay for a couple months until I can do this on my own.” His lower lip quivered slightly. “Please?”

He felt you shift a bit in his arms, probably from the weather, and waited for her to turn around…

But she never did.

“Goodbye, James.” Dottie said, before trailing across the snow covered path to the sidewalk. 

Bucky watches her disappear into the night, his feet glued to the floor even when part of his mind told him to run after her. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t want to go after her, thinking that maybe she’ll change her mind if actually begs, but the mere thought went out the door when you started to get fussy and cry.

Something deep within him kicked in, probably that parental instincts he’s heard about from his own parents, and all his attention was turned to you cradled in a lilac colored blanket.

“Hey…” He whispered, readjust his hold so that he could gently brush their–

No.

That’s officially gone out the window. 

It’s just his daughter. His.

He readjust his hold so that he could gently brush HIS daughter’s cheek. To brush your cheek like a soft paint brush across a canvas. “Hey. Don’t cry.” He says, soothingly.

He makes a soft shushing sound as he closes the front door with his hip, before carefully guiding himself to sit near the fireplace. He lays you cautiously in his lap, almost in awe as he sees your eyes peeking open for the first time.

(Y/E/C) eyes. 

So beautiful like the world itself. He almost wanted to start taking pictures.

Maybe later though.

He chuckles sadly, tears in his own as he brushes your cheeks again. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I got you.” He said, smiling down. “I got you, baby girl.”

You cooed quietly, staring back at him with a bit of curiosity. The look you were giving him melted his heart, but it also made him feel like he didn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry…”  He croaks, sniffling. “It looks like it’s just going to be me and you, doll. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

You made the cute sounds that took his breath away again, taking up his whole surroundings. However, if it wasn’t for his military training, he probably wouldn’t have even heard someone tumbling down the stairs. Bucky glances at the living room entrance, finding a certain skinny blond that he called his best friend. He saw his chest move slightly, and could almost hear him panting from here.

“S-Sorry.” Steve exhales, leaning against the door frame. “Your mom sent me down here when we heard everything go quiet.”

Bucky smiled a little. “She got worried?”

Steve copies him with a chuckle.  “Yeah. She wanted to make sure you hadn’t run off with her grandchild.”

The brunette shakes his head. “That sounds like my mother.” He turns his attention back on you, but from the corner of his eye he could see his friend shifting uncomfortably, almost hesitantly, in his spot. His smile grows. “Come here.”

“What?” The blond said, genuinely confused. 

“Come here, Steve. You can see her.”

He stiffens up a bit, looking unsure. “H-Her… A-Are you… are you sure?” Steve asked, pointing towards the stairs in the hallway. “I-I shouldn’t be the one seeing your baby first. Shouldn’t I–”

“Get your ass over here, Rogers.” Bucky said, almost wishing he could free his hand up and drag him by the ear (he was always so timid and too cautious sometimes).

Not even daring to question his best friend’s wish, Steve wandered over and took a seat on the couch next to Bucky. He leans in close, examining the small bundle in the soldier’s arms.

Steve’s big blue eyes lit up with joy. “Wow, Buck. She’s adorable.” He said, as you scrunch up your nose to show off your cute, chubby cheeks.

“She is.” Bucky said, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes again. He now wonders…

(Is this what it's going to feel like all the time now?)

After a moment of silence, Bucky threw his friend through another loop. “Wanna hold her?”

Steve held his hands up in defense almost immediately after those words left his tongue. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t.”

“I trust you.” Bucky holds you out a little, a reassuring look on his face.

Steve raises a cautious eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Bucky laughs. “I’ll show you.”

Bucky then takes his time showing Steve how to hold you, giving him pointers and readjusting everyone once and awhile until he has you in a good position. The blond’s nerves seemed to vanish into thin air when he started to see that you were looking at him with the same curious eyes you made at your father. Those eyes of yours could melt anyone’s hard shells at this point.

Steve chuckles, and grins as he gets butterflies in his stomach from you. “What’s her name?” He asks, sparing a glance at your dad for a split second. “Did Dottie ever give her one?”

Bucky shakes his head sadly. “No.” He said, his voice feeling rather small at the moment. “No she didn’t. I’m tasked with giving her one.”

“Have you thought of any? I know you were looking through some books a few weeks back.”

“I have and I think…” He takes another good look at you, making sure the name was the right choice. “I was thinking… (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” The blond repeats back, testing it out like an echo chamber for his friend who nodded back.

“Yeah. (Y/N).” Bucky tests it out his lips as other names start to form. “(Y/N)... Stevie Barnes.”

He looks up in surprise. “Stevie?” Steve asks in disbelief again. 

Bucky smiles. “Well, I heard Stevie is the girl version of Steve, so…”

“But…” His blue eyes look away again, looking completely torn.

Your father raises an eyebrow over this. “But what?”

“You’re flattering me way too much, Bucky.”

“Am I?” Bucky asked, tilting his head, slightly puzzled.

“Y-Yes!” Steve said, shaking his head. “Y-You can’t– You shouldn’t name your kid after me.”

Now it was his turn to be even more confused. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m– y-you have sisters! Parents. Y-You should name her after them. Not me.”

“But, Steve, you’re my brother. Besides…” Bucky shifted in his seat, knowing what he’ll say next is touchy. “I know… the doctor said you might not be able to have kids so… think of this as me… giving you a small piece of that.”

Silence befell, the subject was something that really hurt Steve when he heard it the first time; Hell, it even hurt his mother who was present at the time. It kind of haunted him for a while because what could he offer to a person who wanted to share his life? 

Steve stares at him for a while before tearing up, laughing quietly and looking away. “Jesus, Bucky. You’re making me cry.”

A chuckle. “Well don’t, ‘cause I’ll start crying again.” Bucky says, making them belly laugh. 

The blond sniffles and tests the name out on his own. “(Y/N) Stevie Barnes.” He looks back down at you, his smile returning fully. “Not bad, Buck.”

Your father looked at him teasingly. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Steven?”

“Nothing.” Steve replies, holding back another laugh as he watches you start to drift back to sleep. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.” 

A few moments more passed before you were carefully placed back in your father’s arms, where all he did was stare back at you as you pulled yourself to sleep. His happy face started to falter, and there was a heavy amount of doubt in his ocean blue orbs. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Steve.” He finally admits before swallowing the lump in his throat. He soon felt his friend’s hand on his leg, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky. You’ve got your family and you’ve got me.” Steve said, honestly. “And you know this. However, don’t doubt yourself, you got this. You’re going to be a great dad.”

Bucky’s lip curled up a bit, not caring that he was about to cry again. “Steve Rogers. The man who always knows what to say.”

“What can I say? I try.” He asked, coping with his expression.

“And you think I’ll be great? Even with me being a soldier and everything else that comes with it?” Your father asked, doubt was still just lingering on the surface no matter what he did.

Steve gives another gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be great. I know you’ll do anything to make sure she’ll be okay. So don’t worry too much, okay? (Y/N)’s going to be lucky she has you.”

Bucky hums, truly grateful for a friend like him. 

And without an ounce of hesitation, he bends down slowly and kisses your sleeping forehead. 

“I already loved you so much, (Y/N). I hope you realize that.” He whispers, lovingly. “And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.”

He swears at that moment he saw you smile.

.

.

.

Bucky brushed his flesh fingers against the words in the stone, tracing your name and important dates. February 23rd, 1936. A snowy, snowy day. Cool and crisp. Although he had to wait and wait until you were a week old to hold you, a week old to realize he was on his own, a week to realize that he truly loved you. No upcoming birthday surprises could top this one. But if he loved you so much then…

Why were you cursed to be underground?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Bucky got back home to his apartment, he found himself subconsciously grabbing the bottle of scotch in his cabinet. Although he knew he couldn’t technically get drunk, the feeling he got after a couple glasses was close enough. Sometimes… he liked the quietness in his home, the time to relax, untouched and left alone to be himself; But most of the time, after so many years of being alone in his head, he loathes being alone. Friends and family were everything to him growing up. You were everything to him growing up. 

He still wonders what it would be like if you were here, running around, asking him twenty questions, painting his toes, etcetera. He always wondered what you were like when you got older, the side of you he never got to see. He always wondered what those short years did for you.

Why did he have to get taken from you so soon?

.

.

.

You dove around your grandparents and aunts’ legs as you made your way out of the house, ignoring how your father’s duffle bag, that subconsciously you hated, was laying on the porch steps. You stumble around a bit on your five year old legs, before finding the person you wanted to see. 

“Uncle Steve!!!” You yelled, throwing your arms up.

“Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, teasingly. He wastes no time to scoop you up, and carefully holds you close to him (it’s been years and he’s still afraid he’ll drop you). “Have you gotten smaller?”

You scrunched up your nose at him, shaking your head. “No.” You giggled at the silly nickname, and it all was because you were pocket size.

“No?” Steve said, tilting his head, all cocky. “Are you sure?”

You giggled again. “Yes.”

He grins. “Just checking.”

A sigh came from inside, before the two of you saw your father exiting his parents house, all dressed in his neatly ironed uniform. He looked miserable as he gazed at his bag on the porch.

“Ready?” Steve asked, readjusting his hold on you as he frowned himself.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky mumbled, not ready for what’s yet to come. However, when he faces you his whole expression changes for the better. “And there’s my little girl!”

“Papa!” You yelled, holding your arms out. He takes you in his arms, hugging you gently. “Are you leaving, Papa?”

“Oh, baby doll, I am.” He said, pulling back to look at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He taps your nose. “Okay?”

You nodded slowly and smiled. “Okay!”

“Good.” He gives you a big kiss on your head, before peppering your face with some more making you laugh. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

“I love you more.”

He gives you one more kiss and one more hug before transferring you over back to Steve. They both give each other a strong hug and pat on the back, smiling bittersweetly.

“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve said, trying to hide his concern.

“I will. You too. The both of you.” Bucky said, grabbing his bag and making sure his voice was stern.

“We will. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Steve.” 

He bid them goodbye, and you and Steve watched him walk down the path to the military jeep parked nearby. It was chilling almost to watch, and your five year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend the heavy feeling you felt underneath the surface.

“Uncle Steve?” You asked, prying his eyes away from the moving vehicle. 

“Yeah?” He said, softly.

You looked at him all puzzled, something wasn’t adding up. “I thought you told me you were going with him?” You swear he mentioned something like that to you yesterday. Right?

His eyes look away from you, almost like he was recollecting himself before giving you his answer. “I am. But not yet.” He replies, honestly. His orbs finally meet yours again. “Not until I know you're okay.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.

“Sure am.” He smiles once more. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to see what Grandpa and Grandma are doing?”

Your eyes light up at their names. “Yes!!!” 

He laughs at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s go see them.”

.

.

.

Bucky throws a bottle of scotch across the room, shattering somewhere. He didn’t care though. It’s not like he even batted an eye.

Five years old. 

That was it.

That’s the last time he ever saw you.

And that hurt like a bitch.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He doesn’t know when…

But everything suddenly just…

Clicked.

Memories of his flooded in like a broken dam. He starts to recall who he was before and after the fall. Before and after the war. Before and after everything. So as he made his way to Siberia with his friend, Steve, he remembers something that was like a knife to his heart.

“I have a daughter.” Bucky said abruptly, cutting Steve off.

When he was on the run after the helicarriers fell, he remembers his time growing up in the early 1900s. The (multiple) times he saved his best friend’s ass from being picked on, or the way he took his younger siblings to the park, or helping his mother bake, or fixing the car with his dad. But there were a few memories he was confused by for a long time.

First he only heard little laughs, or someone trying to sing a child’s song. Then he saw little toys and dresses. Then he saw a little face with big, wondrous eyes. It didn’t take him long to realize who she was.

He met with his friend’s eyes quickly, almost getting choked up by an emotion that had been under lock and key for so long. “...I have a daughter… don’t I?”

Steve, who seemed taken back by his sudden string of words, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before settling his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, Bucky. You do.”

Bucky looked away, the confirmation sending his mind spiraling again, and the Captain could tell. He decides to approach this carefully since he knows his friend isn’t hundred percent in his right mind yet.

“Do you remember her?” Steve asked, watching him nod slowly. “What do you remember?”

Bucky thinks long and hard about this. What did he remember about you?

“Uh… I remember she was tiny… always tiny.” He chuckles quietly, making Steve smile. “She uh… had um… (Y/H/C) hair that was kind of wavy when she got older. Um… big, bright (Y/E/C) eyes. She… she um… smiled a lot… I think?”

“Yeah, she did Buck. All the time.” Steve said, patting his shoulder gently as he could see the joy it was bringing to his friend.

Bucky laughs again. “Uh… you used to call her by a weird nickname. What was it? Uh…” He purses his lips. “Po… Potato?”

Now it was the blond’s turn to laugh. “N-No. No. Close… Starts with a P, though.”

“Um…” His eyes light a spark. “Oh. Yeah. I remember now. We took her to her first Halloween pumpkin patch when I could hold in one hand because she was so tiny.”

“Yep. That’s what I called her.” He says with a nod. “Your Ma tried to dress her up like one.”

“Oh, yeah, she did.”

And then it got quiet, and Steve saw the bright light in his friend’s eyes go out when the wheels started to turn again. He held his breath, knowing what he was recalling next.

Bucky swayed on the balls of his feet a bit, looking at the floor. “She was five the last time I saw her.” He says, bittersweetly. “I remember, the night before, I took her to Coney Island, and we just played games and ate until our bellies ached. I got her a stuffed bear on the ring toss…”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort because he knew there was no stopping any memories of you.

“She was with you when I left. I gave her hugs, and kisses and…” His voice starts to break. “I love you’s…. Um…”

“Bucky–” Steve begins, hating how hurt he looked.

“Steve. W-Was that last time you saw h-her too?”

Steve closed his mouth, thinking to himself. He couldn’t lie. He was a terrible liar which the brunette always sees through. So what was the point of even trying?

Cap shakes his head. “No. I saw her when she was nine. ‘Bout to be nine.”

“N-Nine?” Bucky asked, just above a whisper. “W-Why?”

“Um…” He swallows. “I had to…. I had to tell your family about, you know… the train… and you.”

The Soldier went distant. “O-Oh…”

“I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell them.” 

“Oh…” Bucky started to get teary eyed. “D-Did you tell her?"

Steve held his breath again. It was like his mind started to relive that day.

You looked so happy to see him, but he watched that expression vanish when you saw his sadden face. It hurts to take you by the hand and into your room. It hurts to see how you’ve grown, and to think he got to see it and not your dad made the situation a whole lot worse.

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was hurt. 

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was still at war and won’t be home for a while.

He wanted to lie and say everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t, and felt like it was his duty to tell you what happened to your father, to his best friend.

He knew if the situation was reversed, Bucky would be doing the very same thing now.

And when he did tell you, he hated how you kept on denying it. You called him a liar, and god he wished he was.

“I-I did…” He said, feeling his eyes sting as well. 

Bucky jaw clenches. “A-And?”

Steve looks away for a second. “She cried for three hours.”

“O-Oh…” Bucky looks away too. “I always h-hated when s-she cries.”

With his hand still on the brunette shoulder, he gave him another comforting squeeze. “She…” Cap chokes, his memories flooding in all at once. “S-She um… she gave me her blanket, the one that she came home with. She um, wanted me… to promise to come back to her. But um… I failed at that, I guess.”

Bucky frowns. “Steve–"

“I tried finding her, Buck.” He finally looks at him. “When I came out of the ice, SHIELD managed to give me some of my things from the war. I kept the blanket in my chest, so… I tried finding her, because I didn’t want to break that promise to (Y/N), but…”

“You didn’t find anything?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He whispers, exhaling shaky. 

“Not exactly?” Bucky asked, wanting an answer. “What does that mean?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look all messed up. Especially since he couldn’t make eye contact again. He swallows a lump in his throat and says, “I’m so sorry, Bucky…”

“Sorry about what?” Bucky couldn’t understand what was happening and it was honestly starting to scare him. “What are you sorry about?”

“(Y/N)...” He sighs quietly, and forces himself to look in his best friend’s eyes. “Pneumonia. She, uh… got pneumonia in ‘54 and passed.” 

Now the knife has dug deeper, chilling his bones too. “She’s dead?” He said, barely audible. 

“Yeah. She’s dead.” The Captain replies, dispirit. “I found the spot where she’s buried. I can take you there if you–”

“Thank you, Steve.” The soldier says, ignoring the blond’s confused state. “I mean it. You were always so good to her, and to think you never stopped looking after all this time means A LOT to me. Do you understand? You helped my daughter when she was at her lowest, and you even found her for me. I thank you for that.”

Steve smiles bittersweetly. “No need to. I said I’ll always be there for the both of you.”

Bucky returns the gesture. “As will I.”

“Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”

.

.

.

“-Bucky.” Steve says, touching his shoulder and getting a small jolt from the man. Surprised eyes fell on him as he returned with concerned ones. “You ready?”

“Uh…” Bucky looked around quickly, remembering it was standing in the locker room changing. He didn’t even realize he had zoned out. “Y-Yeah.” He said, zipping up the front of his Quantum Suit. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve tilts his head, the worriedness never vanishing. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Let’s get this mission completed.”

And those were the words that would change -everything-.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@navs-bhat @liarasstuff @justmewoo @thed1v1n3

@luckyzipperscissorsbat @like-a-domino @kissesofdeadforme

@audigay

[levmada]

You have such a good perspective on canon!levi, how do you do it!! 🥰🤩 the cold weather has made me think fluffy thoughts... sooooo....

What are your thoughts on post-war levi needing some help with cutting his hair? He can manage, but it's probably harder to do, right? Does he even keep the undercut? Uh-oh, maybe the top grows out enough for a bun. Is this the first time he lets someone other than his mother cut it for him? Does it mean something to him, or does he just not like other people messing with it? If he needed help, he probably wouldn't ask, you'd just have to get in there and do it... and then it would just be a part of your routine together. I need to hear your thoughts!!

Also happy new year 😘😘

xoxo

happy new year!! idk how this post got so srs but here we are.... i promise... its fluffy towards the end...

//internalized ableism, mentioned suicidal ideation, some minor manga spoilers + hinted ch132 spoiler | wc: 1.0k

He didn’t get to cut his hair (I bet) for that month he was in the forest with Zeke. And then after the final battle, he’s in the hospital for some long months while his face heals (did you know that face wounds heal super well compared to other flesh wounds?), he gets multiple surgeries on his knee, and treated for the internal bleeding caused by the explosion (remember when he coughs up blood in the manga?), etc. The point is, he’s in the worst shape of his life.

And in all that time, his bangs grow to fall over his eyes all the time. They don’t like to stay pushed back over his forehead, either, and the prickly stubbled part of his undercut gains length. The longer tail in the back has creeped down his nape.

This is one more thing to constantly unsettle him. Routinely he’s always cut his hair every two weeks on the dot if he can, and he’s never let it get bad enough to grow out this much, not since he was a little kid.

He’s always cut his hair himself, too. At this point he’s firm in the belief that he’s the only one who can get it right, and on top of Levi’s stubborn independence and his newly realized weaknesses, means he’s defiant to letting even you (who has stuck to his side since he was admitted) trim it. You can count on one hand how many times he let you help with it in the past.

“I’ll cut it for you,” you offer out of the blue, for the hundredth time.

He, who’d been half-dozing in his hospital bed, grunts to show his distaste. The majority of the bandages are off his face, except for the white wrappings hugging one of his eyes. Unfortunately, Hange’s stitches had been removed, and restitched. Levi got extremely irate with the doctor who explained to him that the work done was shoddy, like whoever that’d done it seemed to be in a rush.

Either way, it still feels strange to talk with the cleft in his lips. “You’ve done enough for me.”

You stroke his uninjured hand. The other is still bandaged. Recently, he went through another small surgery to get them properly amputated to the second knuckle to prevent nerve damage and infection. (I’m so fucking sad.)

“The most I’ve done is just be here,” you say meaningfully. “Please let me help, ‘Vi.”

For the most part, Levi has been completely numb since the war ended. Maybe he’s still in shock, like the professionals say, but he has had the suspicion that he’s broken... That is until you beg him so genuinely. A familiar affection for you pulls in him. It reminds him. Not broken.

He blinks at you, and sighs deeply through his nose. “Only if… it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never. I already asked for the proper tools.”

He deadpans a little, affection growing. “Fine.”

Smiling, you give him a kiss.

Levi huffs. He’s stronger than he was since being admitted. With a few pillows fluffed up behind him, he sits up with relative ease. His socked feet brush the floor, where he stares down, deliberating.

“You shouldn’t—”

“If you get that fucking chair, forget it.” He raises his head and glares defiantly at you. “I’m not a shitty baby. I can fucking walk.”

You never said he was, never even implied it, but you understand why he’s lashing out. So you compromise by sitting down beside him, and sliding your arm around his waist. He hooks one of his over your shoulders, saying nothing as you together maneuver to stand. The bathroom is a few paces away, but to Levi it feels like miles as he heavily favors his good leg, causing him to hobble.

His cheeks burn in humiliation. Not because you’re helping him, but the fact that he needs help in the first place. He doesn’t even let the nurses do this.

In the same way, all the meaning of this favor to him isn’t in you cutting his hair. It touches him that you’d go out of your way (in his mind) yet again for him, as difficult as he knows he’s being. Has been.

He hates that his body’s this way now. Mangled beyond recognition of how it used to be, how it used to work. He’s left broken parts. Damaged. He’s permanently useless forever, he thinks. The resulting burden makes him think at his darkest moments that it would’ve been easier on himself and everyone else if he just died after killing Zeke. His duty was done. It would’ve taken long enough.

This occasional slew of dark thoughts have grown more common since he’s had time to do more or less nothing but think. When he remembers that everyone he fought beside, including and especially you, were thrilled that he was recovering, he feels a horrible stab of guilt. He should be grateful. The Titans are gone. He should be at peace, overjoyed. He doesn’t deserve to feel this much pain considering everyone else who lost their lives. Everyone close to him is dead. But, except you. Except you.

(I need to get back on topic.)

In the bathroom, he braces himself using the counter, his bad leg raised as you drag a regular chair inside.

“Same as always?”

“Yeah.”

He thought he’d feel even more pathetic that he can’t even do this with two less fingers and his eyesight, but he finds himself… relaxed for the first time in ages. More placated whenever your fingers card through his hair, occasionally scratching affectionately as you go about trimming, then buzzing his hair way down near the base of his skull and around his ears.

You’re slow and careful about it, and Levi finds himself holding onto that.

When his hair is fixed, the style as he always had it, he feels a shred better. Your eyes meet through the reflection.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

Later in the future, when Levi is out of the hospital (which he leaves on crutches), and enough time has passed to partway recover and re-establish a new routine in your lives, you still cut his hair the majority of the time. His eyesight messes with his field of view—it’s a task to land kisses to your lips, let alone cut his hair straight. So even though he’s ambidextrous, that doesn’t mean much.

Every two weeks, same as always, you stand behind him with a towel laid out for the stray hairs, and wordlessly set about doing it for him. He could grow it out, but he much rather prefers a few things staying the same as they’ve always been. Including his hair. Especially you.

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[iridiss]

Okay, two things

A. Your canon of Cult of The Lamb (The one with Azmontes!) has latched onto me like a parasite and genuinely I’m fine with that, I’ve been meaning to say that to you because I genuinely love your art, your characters, the expressions of said characters- ESPECIALLY YOUR COTL STUFF RAHHH-

B. OH OH OH! I also want to know, since COTL did a crossover with Monster Prom where you can date the lamb, how with that go with your lambsona Azmontes?

Thank you!! I’m very glad you like it! :D

I think it’d go a bit differently if it was Azmontes in canon!Lamb’s place! He doesn’t usually take an interest in anyone outside of their three spouses, but let’s say they make a special exception for the player. My Azzy’s a lot less chaotic & bloodthirsty than canon!Lamb, he’s more of a merciful, good-natured gentleman, seeking love more than…human meat and delicious corpses lol. He’d be happy to encourage you to come live at the commune (if you didn’t already have a significantly better living situation)! They’d offer protection, food, one or two outfits that they’d stitch together themself, but you’d get to help design your clothes! Sure, you’d have to leave behind all the clothes you already had, along with the rest of your belongings and the entirety of your old life, but he’d be willing to help make up for it. He’d get flustered at the idea of marriage, all flattered and bashful, but giddy and happy to accept once he knew you were absolutely okay with it. They’d introduce you to their spouses and get their permission as well (Sparkle would likely complain and protest, stating that “Uniblue is already a big enough of a pawful to handle already”), then he’d drive you home to the cult where you’d get married first thing and live a (hopefully) happy life in the commune for…literally the rest of immortal eternity. Overall, he’d be quite kind, helpful (to the best of his extent), flirtatious, bashful, loving, and…probably charming.

You’d end up probably about,,,the 7th in command in the cult? Like if Azmontes (1st), Narinder (2nd), Sparkle (close 3rd), Flarefan (4th), Uniblue (5th), and Fire, his daughter (6th) all went down in a crazy coincidence disaster, you’d get to rule the cult until any of them came back. The cult might end up doing things without you anyway. Oh well. It’s not much power, but it’s worth it to have the new God of Death as a wonderfully happy, doting, loving spouse, keeping you stuck in a cycle of ascension and resurrection for the rest of eternity.

Also I imagine he’d look like this

[the-sand-guardian]

Chapter 2: The Three of the Hospital

Still Feel - Generation Loss

Ranboo, Sneeg, and Charlie make it safely to the hospital, though not without requiring various treatments. Charlie and Sneeg have a conversation in secret. This chapter focuses more on Charlie.

Wordcount: 1925

This is chapter two of my fic, Still Feel, also available on AO3. For chapter one, click the following link:

Ranboo was in and out of surgery for days. The buzzing of fluorescent lights stuck in Charlie’s head like a fly he couldn’t shoo away. Before he himself had been discharged, he would drag his IV with him to where Ranboo was, where he would talk to the sleeping teen and check in with the doctors on their progress. Sneeg had had it the best out of all of them, and ended up staying longer in the psych ward than in the ICU. He came to visit Charlie and Ranboo a lot as well, though he focused more on Charlie than Ranboo. 

On one such visit, Sneeg had stayed as long as he was permitted to. They had talked for what must have been hours. 

“How are you holdin’ up, man? You’re gonna have some sick-ass scars I’ve heard,” He asked, smiling a bit. 

Charlie nodded. “I didn’t even hurt until they got Ranboo in here. I think I was running on straight adrenaline for hours…You wanna see?” He sat up with a wince before leaning back into his pillow. 

“Like actually? Hell yeah I do!” Sneeg scooted a bit closer to Charlie’s bed to get a better look. 

Charlie gingerly slipped his arms out of his hospital gown, revealing large claw marks that were being held together by a good few stitches. They sprawled all the way across his chest, though some had reached his biceps as well. 

“Shit, man, I didn’t even realize he got you that good,” Sneeg remarked after just a moment. “I’m even more shocked they let you on with him now.” 

“They said I’m lucky to have survived. I don’t actually think me or Ranboo would have if I didn’t go find you.” He put his gown back on and sighed. 

“I hardly did anything, man, you had to convince me that Ran was even still alive. I’m more thankful that you found me, I don’t think I would have made it out if not.”

“We’ll call it even then,” He smiled and adjusted his glasses. “I should be out of here in a few more days, they’re giving me wraps and stuff so I don’t bleed out and everything.” 

The two continued to converse for a bit before Sneeg inevitably had to leave for the “Lights Out” period of the day, a time in which Charlie dreaded tremendously. Most nights, a nurse would have to come and sit with him until he fell asleep or his screams would wake the other patients. Even when he could sleep, he would repeatedly stop breathing or breathe so fast that a nurse would have to be present anyways. 

He woke night after night with his gown stuck to him with his own sweat. Other patients even spoke of him crying when he was alone for too long, mumbling incoherently under his breath. When the doctors pressed, however, he couldn’t force himself to speak. His throat ran completely dry and all he could do was shake his head. When he was discharged, the doctors gave Sneeg a rundown of what he needed each day and reminded him that Charlie needed to sleep. He was sent home with three prescriptions: Percocet, extra-strength melatonin, and Zoloft. 

Ranboo was, of course, less lucky. His many surgeries required him to stay in the hospital much longer than both Sneeg and Charlie, but both were determined to be there for him every step of the way. Unlike Charlie, Ranboo spent most of their time out of surgeries completely asleep, and, once they could, they were only ever really awake to eat. It took them more than a month to be able to eat properly again, but the pain from their multiple skin grafts made it painful and difficult. Neither of his brothers ever tried to get Ranboo to speak, but both each took turns coming in and speaking to him and keeping him company. 

The day Ranboo finally spoke again was a hallmark in their recovery. It was during one of the small periods they were awake, and Charlie was there to sit with them. The orange late-afternoon sun basked the room in light as it usually did, illuminating the room enough for Ranboo to make out the silhouette of flowers on his nightstand, as by this point it had been determined that their sight could only really be returned in one eye, and that procedure had yet to be done. Charlie let out a small sigh as the beams came through the vertical blinds. 

“Man, I’ll never get over how pretty the sunsets are here,” He mused wistfully. “You’d love them. So many shades of orange and pink…” 

Ranboo turned their head towards the window a bit and nodded before facing Charlie again. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

Charlie’s eyes widened immediately and his mouth fell open a bit. “You spoke-! I- fuck- I mean, of course man, but you-” 

Ran smiled a little and nodded. Their voice was shaky and their breathing was uneven. “I’ve- I’ve been w-working on it f-f-for a bit now.” 

“Can I call Sneeg? Or would that be too much for you?” He asked, pulling out his phone but waiting for an answer. “If not I can just text him and he can come in tomorrow.” 

“He c’n come,” They nodded, though they had paused a second beforehand. “I’m gonna stop until he gets here.” 

“That’s absolutely fine, man, you need rest” He pulled his chair to Ranboo’s bedside and gently squeezed one of their hands to let him know he was closer before phoning Sneeg. “You should come out here tonight too… He’s talking - Not just the mumbling… no- no… they’re actually talking to me.” 

Somehow, Sneeg had turned an hour-long drive into 45 minutes. He power-walked through the halls and cursed out an elevator in the process, but he made it. He sat down by Ranboo’s bedside and took the hand closest to him to alert Ranboo of his arrival. 

Ranboo initially jumped a bit but relaxed as he recognized the touch. “Sneeg,” He gave him a mangled smile. “You came.” 

Sneeg nodded and wiped his eyes, his own voice shaking a bit. “Of course I did, kid. Hey, that rhymed-'' He gave them a watery smile. “How’re you holdin’ up today?”

Ran shakily lifted their hand and waved it in a so-so manner. “It hurts, a lot,” They shut their eyes as a dull pain shot through their head. “Everything just hurts so much all the time.” 

“You’ve got your button still, you can press it whenever you need more painkillers,” Charlie chimed in, a pain rising in his own chest as he thought about all the torture his little brother had gone through already. 

Ranboo shook their head. “I’m timed out. Can’t get anymore for a few more hours.” He laid back fully now, adjusting his bed to be almost completely laid down. 

Sneeg looked from Ranboo to Charlie, his brows knitted together in confusion. He mouthed out the words, ‘ When did this happen?’ 

Charlie shrugged a bit, concern washing over his own face. ‘I have no idea, I didn’t see them press it.’  

Sneeg gently rubbed the side of Ranboo’s hand with his thumb with a quiet sigh. Charlie shifted a bit and ran a hand through his own hair as both watched their sibling quietly drift to sleep. Charlie then looked up at Sneeg with a new glimmer in his eye. 

“How’s it coming along?” He asked vaguely. “Better than this morning?”

Sneeg nodded. “It’s looking pretty good. I got a few more walls painted and I’m hoping to get the kitchen set up soon.” 

“Really? Shit, I feel like I haven’t done anything yet…I’ll swing by IKEA tomorrow and get the room set up, that way they have somewhere proper to sleep right away. I can get some kitchen stuff too while you’re here.” 

Sneeg nodded once more. “He’s gonna be so excited when he sees it, I’m sure it’s gonna look great. Before either of us leave, I want you to know something, ok?” He looked over at Charlie and fumbled with his own hoodie strings. 

Charlie nodded this time. “Yeah, what’s up?” 

“Do you remember Frank at all?” Sneeg shifted in his seat. 

“I’m not sure…I don’t recall a Frank, no. Why?” 

“So basically, Frank was this plastic skeleton, right? I don’t know where he came from but I swear, everything I was in while I was there, he was too… I found one while I was out today.” 

“And you brought it home, now it’s in our living room and you don’t want me to scream when I see it?” 

Sneeg let his posture fall and leaned back a bit, “You know me so well,” 

Charlie gave him a gentle smile as he relaxed in his chair. “Are you staying here tonight too?” 

“I can, I don’t mind either way. When’s Ran’s next surgery?” 

“Here in a few days. They said they might be able to help him see again. I’m not sure how well, but hopefully it means something, y’know?” He shrugged and rubbed at his face a bit. “They have to be terrified, man. They’re just a kid. We were so scared but we’re adults and we can handle it.” Charlie covered the lower half of his face with a hand. “They’re a kid.”

“I know, man. They’re strong, but they don’t have to be anymore. We’re gonna help give him a better life, Charlie. We’re all out now, and now we can all go and try to forget any of this ever fucking happened.” 

Charlie let go of Ranboo’s hand as his own began to shake. He backed away from him as his breathing shortened and his face paled. “Sneeg- Sneeg we can’t forget any of this shit- I can’t- They can’t,” He spoke quickly as his vision began to flatten. 

Sneeg stood up from his chair and went over to the other. “Hey, man, it’s alright. Did you take your meds this morning? Charlie?” He gently put his hands on his rapidly rising and falling shoulders, but Charlie didn’t respond. He sat there rocking a bit before he began to shake his head. 

“No, no- no no no, not like this- please, not again-” He murmured a bit, staring into the floor as tears ran down his face. “No more, I can’t handle it-” 

Sneeg shook him a bit before pulling him closer. “Charlie, Charlie, it’s Sneeg. I’m here” He hugged him tight, knowing the pressure often helped to soothe him. “Nobody is going to hurt you any more.” 

Charlie sniffled and choked a bit before his breathing began to slow. He relaxed into Sneeg’s hold and shut his eyes to try and continue calming himself down. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry-'' He cried softly into his shoulder. 

“It’s alright, man, you’re safe. I’m safe, Ran’s safe now too,” He kept his voice gentle and quiet as the other began to relax. “You can cry, but make sure you’re breathing.” 

Charlie nodded and wiped his eyes before sitting back up from where he had slumped over. Sneeg let go of him before speaking again. 

“You know I won’t make you talk about it, but whenever you need to, I’ll listen to you, ok?” He reminded Charlie. “You were whispering again. Whatever you experienced back there was serious, you can’t bottle it up forever and expect to be ok.” 

Charlie shook his head and wiped his watery eyes again, unable to speak through the lump in his throat. 

AN: Chapter 2! The suppourt on the last chapter has been amazing and has helped me keep my motivation so far, so I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much as you did the last! Again, comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated <33

[knotalot]

Hi ! I saw your Aether doll, and I was just wondering what's your process for the hair and the clothes? A friend's birthday is coming up (very) soon, and they really like Aether, so I'd love to know how to make this kind of stuff. I think you're really talented! :)

Hi! Thank you for your kind words :)

My process is largely on a ‘trial and error’ basis, but I’ve done my best to make a guide for you (using Aether as an example, since you mentioned him specifically). Unfortunately right now all of my stuff is in storage due to unstable living conditions, so I hope you’ll forgive me for only being able to offer pre-existing photos and hand-drawn diagrams. When I get access to my stuff again, I might do a step-by-step process for hair (for Lumine, since she’s my current WIP) but that could be quite a while yet.

Stuck under a read more because this is gonna get long lol

I’ll start with clothes because I always leave hair til last.

The first thing I do is hoard as many references as I possibly can, from as many different angles as possible. These are the one I used for Aether (made myself because I couldn’t find any online that met my needs), though I did also sometimes log into my game and rotate him in the character menu haha

From here, the next step is to start dissecting the layers. Work from the base up, and break it down specifically into what you would make as a single piece, rather than say the shirt base AND the sleeves AND the decal. If that makes sense.

I don’t normally draw diagrams or anything like I will be for this, but if that helps you visualise it by all means do!

(I also tend to go really ham on the details because I’m a perfectionist, but please don’t torture yourself unless you really want to. Making things a little more simplistic is perfectly fine and valid.)

I won’t do the whole thing or I’ll reach image limit but here’s an example of how you might break it down:

The more you simplify it, the easier time you’re going to have.

The next step for me, after I raid my cupboard and the local craft store for the right colours, is to work out which pieces of the clothing I’m going to incorporate into the doll’s base body and which will be separate.

For Aether, for example, the ‘hand’ part of his gloves are the actual doll’s hands, but the bit that flares up his arm isn’t. The boots are part of his actual legs up until the part where it flares up over the top of his pants, which I made as a separate piece. The seat of his pants are the bottom half of his base body, but the pant legs themselves are add-ons. Does that make sense?

Next, make your base body! If you’d like to use my pattern, you can find it in my pinned post :)

Once you’ve got the base doll, I start adding layers of clothing. I always use a smaller hook size for the clothes than I do for the base body. In my case I like 2.5mm (and a teeny tiny 1.25mm for fine details and thin layers – but we’ll get to that later). I normally start with the pants.

My normal method of doing pants is this:

Essentially, I crochet directly into the base body in a circle around the base of the leg (so I am not chaining, but actually single crocheting through random stitches on the base in a loose circle shape), and then work in rounds until I reach the length I want.

Because Aether’s pants are puffy at the bottom and have two colours (*shakes fist at hoyo designers*), though, the process ends up being a little different.

I made his pants in two pieces: the outer side and the inner side. So instead of rounds, it ends up being rows. To get that nice puff, just do some standard increases in the right spot and make sure to decrease on the lower rows to taper it back in.

Once you have both pieces, you can just sew the two halves together.

The flare of the boot over the top of the pants is exactly the same process. Attach and single crochet directly onto the leg from the top of the boot, working up towards the waist.

For trickier shapes like the gloves, it’s sort of just familiarising yourself with what kinds of effects different stitches do and allowing yourself to get it wrong about a dozen times before it actually works lol

If you break down the gloves properly, you end up with a shape similar to this:

(this is not great i am so sorry – I am realising once again my reference was awful for the gloves)

But you can kind of see how it’s largely bulb shapes for the brown part, which is easy to do with increases and decreases. The white part I made separately and attached afterwards. Yes it was a huge, tedious pain in the ass.

For finer details, like his jewellery and, like, the shoulder armour, etc etc, I use the smallest hook I can tolerate. Please do not attempt this unless you lowkey hate yourself because it is torture.

So when you look at yarn, you can see that it has a bunch of smaller strands wound together, right?

You gotta split em.

Like this.

(image borrowed from http://illuminatecrochet.blogspot.com/2015/03/what-is-ply.html)

And then. You are going to use that tiny ass hook. And crochet those individual strands. It sucks. It breaks constantly. It makes you want to commit a crime. But damn if it doesn’t look good.

On a similar note, don’t be afraid to use the 2.5mm/whatever hook you use for clothes with less than the full ply of the skein you’re using. For Aether’s cape, I did the outer facing white part with only 2 of the strands in my 8ply yarn, and the inside orangey part with the 1.25mm and one strand. It’s still a little fatter than I’d like but it’s better than doing the whole thing in single strand torture mode lol

I’ll wrap up clothing here but if you want some help with anything specific just let me know!

On to hair!

For hair, I use felt square sheets that are like $1 each. Except for Aether because he has to have a Very Special Hair Colour that my craft store doesn’t stock so his cost me $7 :/

It’s a similar kind of deal for hair as it is for clothes. Break down the shapes and start from the bottom up.

(This is not a good look for him rip)

Layers are your friend! As are sewing pins! For real, do not glue anything down until you’ve got the whole thing pinned down because once you glue you’re in for a bad time if you need to fix something.

I’ve made two Aethers (one as a custom gift commission, one for myself) and they’re both a little different from each other, but this should help give you an idea of how I translated it to felt. I like to simplify if I can, purely because larger pieces tend to look a bit neater and less chaotic than a bunch of smaller ones.

For his braid, I found the easiest way to do it was to just cut three really long straight pieces, braid em, and then trim the end to the length I needed.

My absolute biggest #1 tip for hair:

If it looks bad but you haven’t finished, do not stop and restart.

It will always looks stupid as hell in the early stages. Don’t make a judgement call on whether or not it looks right until you’ve at least got the whole front part/fringe area fully pinned in place. Trust me.

I think that’s probably about all I have the energy for right at this second, but again if you have any questions or want help on anything specific, my inbox/DMs are always open – and that goes for anyone reading this! I’m always happy to help :)

[spectralquartzafterdark]

👀👀 okay that was Jules??? Holy scrap im excited!! Now Rosie whatcha got cooking?!

Sure, this one needs a smidgen of context though. My brother told me what the original ending was going to be for Bayverse Dark of the Moon and it's been on my mind a lot lately. Imagine that Megatron having to atone for his war crimes. And then getting stuck with a powderpuff of a mechanic (My self insert Rosie) 😂 Call it a midlife crisis. It's uh gotten out of hand so here's a chunk of it. Heck I don't even know if it'll get posted. Also, mention of Noah because I'm mushing continuities together!

Something in him hated this. It hated her kindness. And he hated her not because he was cruel, but because he was starting to understand why the bots trusted her. He hated that he felt an attachment forming. He hated that a thought of staying in this place crossed his mind. He hated that even with his records she never treated him as an enemy. He hated everything about her and this situation and yet the moment the others left he tried to keep her attention for awhile longer. He needed it.

“How… did you learn to repair Cybertronians?” he asked wanting to learn more about her despite the dark energy in his Spark screaming at him to leave it.

“Well, for the minor stuff I learned from Ratchet initially. Basic biology and terminology and the like. It’s very similar to things we have here so it wasn’t too terrible. Especially considering my father taught me to repair automotive vehicles.” Rosie said as she began to clean up the workshop so she could work on his right hydraulic tomorrow, “Then Noah taught me to sew bots back together. So, long as we can get parts from their chosen earth altmode it seems to be an easy task.”

“And reviving bots?” Megatron seemed almost cautious with this question as he carefully sat back down on the concrete floor of the hangar.

“As Jazz said, it was an accident.” she chuckled, “When he was brought to us his Spark was in one piece, just dormant. And one day while Noah and I were stitching him together I had a brilliant idea. What if your Sparks needed the same electrical pulses it took to revive our hearts? And well, I took my taser and just shoved it to the Sparks case holding and there he was. Dazed and confused, but alive. It wasn’t planned just a stroke of luck.”

“A risk… one that worked out in your favor. Interesting…” he said watching as she hopped onto a lift to get to his level.

“Mmhmm. And besides, he was thought to be dead. So, if it failed it wouldn’t matter. It was worth the risk.” she explained coming to level with his optics, “I can also repair aesthetic injuries like your helm with steel. So, long as I treat it like a transplant your energon, blood… or well the equivalent seems to grow over it and make it apart of you. Jazz? That panel on his abdomen that you tore in two? That is a steel replacement I did.”

Megatron recoiled at the mention of the war crime he had committed. Not only had she definitely been told about his past, but it was absolutely eerie how she spoke about it so calmly. But, beneath that was relief. She didn’t seem to judge him for his poor decisions made from being power hungry and filled with a rage that he still fought with despite the truce.

“I see why Sam trusts your work.” He said.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly, I think he trusts Noah more than me. But, only because he’s been doing it longer. Mirage isn’t going to believe me when I tell him I got to help repair you.” she snorted leaning on the rail, “Listen, I am highly aware of the circumstances between you and the other bots. But, I’m also highly aware of how and why it happened.”

“Then why are you helping me?” his voice was low as if he was a dog ready to bite.

“Sometimes, kindness is enough.” She responded.

Something inside of him clicked. Though he couldn’t quite place what it was. He watched as she lowered the lift. He gritted his dentae as his mind whirred with what that meant. Kindness was still a concept he had issues with. He couldn’t fully grasp it. Yet. So, he decided to leave it. It was a sentiment he could live with.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” she said, “If the others give you trouble let me know.”

With that she left and all he could do is sit and stare into the wall in front of him. He didn’t even notice the others coming in. He was ruminating about what was said. What it meant. Why would anyone give him kindness? He was aware of what he did and clearly this human was to. So, why? Enough? What was that supposed to mean?

[dgblueknight20]

I have another idea. So that scene from Lilo and Stitch where Pleakley is having a wedding.

I have different ways this can go. The part I’m stuck thinking about.

If York is the one running in with flowers and Carolina is the one behind him, in the house and in a black dress, she just laughs at him.

If Grif is the one running in with flowers, and a ring, and Simmons is the one in a white suit eating cake to the side, he waved at him and offers some cake.

If Simmons is the one running in with a wedding present to congratulate and Grif is behind him, in the house and in a white dress, he’s a little hurt Simmons isn’t jealous but also touched he got him a really nice gift on such short notice.

Finally, Simmons walking in looking for everyone while in a white dress and Grif is gobsmacked because it was only halfway through getting to the altar, he admitted He was told they’re playing a game and that he’s playing the bride. So Grif is trying not to be disappointed while explaining that he was lied to.

So Simmons turns and walks over to his daughter, Lulani, whose trying to sneak a way.

“Lulani! Just because he’s your father doesn’t mean I have to marry him. Besides you know how I want to get married, the bridal armor my grandmother wore. I’ve told you the story of her wedding that she’s told me! You also know why I’ve given up that ever happening.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m her father?”

“Uh….right. I never told you…. Or anyone else that, have I?”

Simmons rips the bottom of his dress, turns to pick up his daughter, and runs as fast as he can. Grif and the others gives chase.

In place of Lilo is Lulani. That is if we go with before she’s a teenager. But I think this is an idea that Kiya would do.

So instead the lecture starts with “Kiya, just because he’s Lulani’s father doesn’t mean I have to marry him.”

Kiya’s going to keep mopping that she just wanted to have two parents, knowing full well that’s not a good arrangement.

Simmons escapes Grif, Kai, and the others questions for a solid week and a half because of Tex. Also because Lulani being the cry baby she is and explaining what she thinks is why her dad is hiding so they let up and let him come to them and try to calm her down.

So Simmons and Grif do end up talking in Grif’s room. Surprise! They don’t actually sleep in the same room even if they live together. I’m kind of surprised no one thought Lulani and Grif were related except Kai because she knew it wasn’t just a coincidence Lulani looked like her when she was a kid.

Also… how they (Simmons and Grif) started being friends:

Simmons and Grif took two different dance classes at the only dance studio in town. Simmons acts coldly to Grif and usually has a frown on his face.

They have small, petty arguments with each other whenever they talk. Then Grif helps him with some bullies (they around 18 years old) and they become friends. The next time they see each other, Simmons kisses his face in front of everyone else.

“? Oh! We’re friends now.”

“You kiss your friends?”

“Yes, don’t you?”

“I thought you had a crush on him?”

“What? Why would you think that! I didn’t like him at all! Hadn’t you notice the arguments?”

“I noticed you stare at him dreamily as you write his name in your notebook and work up the nerve to talk to him.”

“Wha! No I did not! That’s ridiculous!”

He holds his hand while walking away, “come on Grif! We don’t need to listen to this!”

There’s more but I’m done with this post.

So later.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Chapter 27

Glass Shards

Warnings: None

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Over the next few weeks, they slowly prepared for the journey ahead. For nights on end, they sat together, heads bowed over maps they had borrowed from the innkeeper. They had considered taking a ship, but had both decided against it. The danger posed by pirates, sea monsters and storms was too great. The land route would take longer, but it wasn’t like they were in a hurry. As much as Damien wanted to fix this, he knew a few weeks more or less wouldn’t matter.

Merridy had recovered quickly and was soon as nimble as before. Only sometimes Damien could see her pause in mid-motion, her face contorted as if in pain, and breathing very carefully. When he asked her about it, however, she waved it off every time; telling him something about stitches in the side or that she had probably pulled a muscle. He didn’t believe her, but couldn’t get anything else out of her, and to his relief these incidents became less frequent. Those bruises had been worse than any he’d ever had, so it was understandable that it took a while for them to fade.

Damien was more than grateful that she had offered — insisted, really — to come with him. As much as it pained him to uproot her again, he didn’t think he would have been able to bear it to leave her behind.

As the weather grew steadily warmer, they finally dared to set a date for their departure. Merridy copied the map with the biggest roads and most important landmarks and sketched the planned route. She also got Damien a bag that he would be able to carry across his back with just one strap instead of a backpack, and they tried out how many clothes and other things would fit inside.

The contents of her chests and boxes, which had been steadily shrinking over the past few months, were subjected to close scrutiny. Merridy rummaged through her belongings, placing them in various piles, the meaning of which only she knew, and shoving them into a corner one day, only to bring them out again the next. Damien watched this for quite a while, until at some point he worked up the nerve to ask.

“What are you going to do with all this stuff when we leave?” His gaze wandered over the mountain of painted dishes and cloths in front of which she was squatting at that moment.

“Sell,” was her curt reply.

“But they’re your things,” Damien worriedly pointed out. 

Merridy raised her eyes and grinned faintly. “Actually…” she began, presumably referring to her unconventional way of sourcing them, then shook her head. “They’re just things, Damien. The few I care about I’ll take with me, even though my back probably won’t thank me for it. But most of it,” she said, making an all-encompassing hand gesture, “is just stuff. I’m not going to read any of those books a second time. I don’t need a plate of” — she glanced at the object in her hands — ”painted daffodils or seventeen colorful silk scarves.”

The argument made sense to him. Strictly speaking, he himself owned nothing at all and hardly missed it. Nevertheless, he felt a little uncomfortable when he looked at the amount of things Merridy wanted to part with. 

She stuck to her words. In the last days before the beginning of spring, the piles in the room became smaller and smaller, until one day even Damien could imagine that the rest would fit in their bags. They had each picked out the best-preserved, sturdiest clothes, and a pair of shoes, for spare. In addition to two newly purchased sleeping bags, they would keep the blankets, as well as some of the rags. When Damien’s bag was finally filled, they packed up the rest of the clothes and set them aside to sell them later.

In her own backpack, Merridy stuffed the rest of the things; flints, soap, mirror and razor, sewing needles and thread, wooden bowls, cutlery, two waterskins, and much more. As Damien watched all that she was putting into the bag, he had to admit that he himself would have thought of maybe half of it, if that. With the important items finally stowed away, Merridy went back to her stacks and fished out a few things. An obviously well-read book found its way into her bundle, as did the playing cards, cloth balls, a small painted wooden box, and an ornate dagger. When the backpack was already pretty well filled, she took a rag doll in her hand and stroked its brown wool hair and beady eyes. Damien saw her look, sadly assessing the space in the backpack, and wordlessly took the waterskins.

“If we roll up one of the blankets and tie it on the outside, these will still fit in my bag,” he said in response to her questioning look. Her happy expression as she fit the doll in the backpack made him shake his head. “Please Merry, I don’t want you to leave something you care about behind because of me. You’ve already given up so much for me. Take everything you want to keep, we will find a solution.”

He wasn’t sure if she would follow this request, but after a while she went back to the book box and took out two more. After some repacking, everything finally fit inside and she stretched with relief. “Done— ah.” She winced in mid-motion and leaned forward with a soft gasp.

“Merry!”

Damien had just placed the packed bags against the wall furthest from the door. He turned around to rush to her, but she stopped him with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“I’m all right. Been sitting still too long.” She smiled at him, but he still watched anxiously as she carefully got up and then settled on the bed with a sigh. “Tomorrow I’ll sell the rest and in three days we’ll be on the road. I can hardly wait. What about you?”

Damien couldn’t quite shake off his worry, but he nodded in agreement. “Why don’t we get something to eat and sit at the beach while we still can? Perhaps one of those pastries?”

He grinned at her visible excitement, extending his hand in her direction to help her up. Side by side, they left the inn, strolling through the streets, sparsely populated on a rather cold and overcast day such as this. Still, when they arrived at the baker, there were two people before them, so they got in line. Damien turned towards Merridy.

“So what’s it gonna be? Sheep cheese or sheep cheese?” he asked.

Whatever reply he had expected, it wasn’t for her face to fall like this, for her to look away from him. Squinting at the blackboards above the stall, listing the regular as well as today’s special offers, she ignored him as he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

When it was her time to order, she picked something else, for the first time in months. It didn’t make sense.

“I’ll wait at the beach,” she said once she had gotten her pastry, still not looking at him. Damien stared after her as she hurried off.

When the merchant cleared his throat, repeating his question about Damien’s order, he didn’t have to think twice.

“Are you all right?”

Damien arrived at the beach a few minutes after Merridy. She was already sitting at their usual spot, one arm wrapped around her legs, holding her pastry in the other hand.

“Of course.” She looked up with a smile, but something still seemed off. “I’m a bit nervous, that’s all.”

With a sigh, Damien settled down next to her. The wind was chilly, but the sight was as beautiful as ever. Perhaps a bit more, even, with the water and sky as dark and gray as her eyes. He’d miss the ocean, the calming sound of the waves and the salty air.

A few minutes later, he found that he had barely taken three bites. He didn’t mind sheep cheese, but this one had little else in it. Glancing at Merridy, her progress seemed to be even slower. She took a tiny bite, grimacing as she chewed it. Damien was sure she wouldn’t if she had noticed him watching.

“Wanna swap?” he asked, deliberately looking at the waves in front of them. “Mine’s a bit bland.”

“Bland? Yours?” Her tone was incredulous, and he could feel her eyes on him. “That’s a first.”

Damien held out his hand, offering her the pastry. “Slight misjudgement,” he said.

There was a long pause. “Damien…”

When she didn’t say anything else, he finally looked at her, finding her staring at him. “Why?” she asked. He couldn’t interpret the look on her face.

“That one has dried tomatoes,” he said, gesturing in the direction of her pastry with his head. “You don’t like dried tomatoes.”

This time the silence stretched on for even longer. He didn’t dare to move, holding out his hand until she — finally — reached for his pastry. As soon as she had taken it, he bent to the side, to grab the other from her right hand before she could decide otherwise.

“That’s more like it,” he said, taking a bite. Dried tomatoes weren’t his favorite, but they were all right, and the garlic heavy bits of sausage in it were excellent. In fact, they were even spicier today than usual. “No won— hey, what’s wrong?”

Tears were not the reaction he had expected. Merridy was staring at her pastry, turning her head away as he addressed her. He regretted that he had sat down on her left side. There was no way for him to put his arm around her, even if he wanted to risk staining his clothes by putting the pastry down. All he could do was lean closer to her, his shoulder brushing against hers.

“Merry, please. If I ever do or say something wrong, tell me.” He didn’t know what was wrong, and he probably wouldn’t get an answer if he asked again. But something he had said or done must have caused this, making her tremble even as she leaned against him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in a whisper. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

Merridy said nothing, her head resting on his shoulder. After a while she started to eat, and Damien followed her example. He hurried to finish his pastry, so he had his hand free to at least reach for hers. With the fingers of her right hand interlaced with his, and her left arm around his back, it didn’t feel quite as cold anymore. There was no beautiful sunset to watch on a day like this, just the light of the day slowly fading. They stayed until the wind picked up, blowing sea spray into their faces as they got up, stretching stiff limbs.

Halfway to the city gate Damien turned his head, looking back at the beach. In the dim evening light he could barely make out the shapes of the cliffs towering over it, or the little hill where they had sat. How quickly the months had passed. How much his life had changed. Tomorrow, it would change again, and for the first time he found himself looking forward to it.

* * *

When the moment of departure came, Merridy found it harder to say goodbye than she had thought possible. The cook packed them two fruit cakes in addition to the provisions they had asked for, and Merridy thought she saw a little tear in the corner of her eye. Even the innkeeper bid them a fond farewell and gave them some well-intentioned advice along the way. Perhaps no wonder, since they had left a small fortune in his inn over the past months.

With each step they took toward the gates of Dragon's Reach, Merridy’s excitement grew. White rocks towered up, forming a gigantic portal that made the travelers before them seem tiny. The wings of the wooden gate were over ten meters high, wide open and firmly anchored in the ground. Next to the cliffs they nevertheless looked inconspicuous. Merridy wondered if they were ever closed at all. Two city guards stood on either side of the gate, boredly watching the sluggish flow of people arriving and departing.

Merridy had shouldered her backpack, and Damien carried the sack with her blankets and clothes. Both had opted for simple brown and beige pants and shirts, and while Merridy held a walking stick, Damien had strapped on a plain short sword. She had gotten it for him after selling the rest of her things, since he had insisted on carrying a weapon to protect her in case of emergency. 

Again and again, Merridy’s gaze flitted to Damien, to his shoulder and his right arm, which he let hang loosely at his side. She didn’t even remember which of them had come up with the idea of creating this illusion. They had both agreed that it could only be an advantage not to look like easy prey on the journey. Although the Dragon Road was reasonably safe, there was always the danger of running into bandits.

At the gates of the city, Merridy turned around once again and looked back. Like every time she turned her back on a place that had been her home for a long time, she felt quite wistful. This time, however, the sadness stayed away. She wasn’t alone and she had a destination, so it felt less like a goodbye and more like a new beginning. She turned away one last time and then only looked ahead, at the paved, dusty path that wound through the fields.

Merridy had studied the maps for a long time. For the first few hours, the path would follow the course of the coast. Once they left the headland, at the tip of which was Dragon's Reach, they would walk through the plains of Nór. The ground was still sandy, the wind carried the smell of the sea with it, and seagulls flew screeching above them. But as the sun rose above its highest point, Merridy felt with each step how they were leaving the sea behind, how the hint of salt in the air faded, to be replaced by the scent of the first spring flowers.

They didn’t talk much that day, neither of them accustomed to walking for such a long time. Shortly after sunset they went in search of a suitable resting place and found it in a small group of trees not far from a stream. Both were so exhausted from the exertion of the long hike that they only quickly lit a fire, ate some bread, and then crawled into their sleeping bags.

[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

Tagging: @dont-touch-my-soup​​​​ @kixngiggles​​​​ @starlit-hopes-and-dreams​​​​

[handmadecp]

‘One minute bag’.

Hi guys, it’s been a cow of a few years here in the UK but we are back with a new Build along project. Again, the credit for the Pattern goes to Tony See at Diesel punk.Ro. The actual putting together is all li’l ole’ me. Let’s go.

The project this time is this Lovely Satchel ( for UK residents) or Messenger style bag ( for our friends around the World.) Known sarcastically as the ‘One minute Bag’. Enjoy.

 Pic 1. As always I purchased a Pattern from Dieselpunk.ro, printed it all out to the correct scale, cut it all out and then stuck each piece onto the Veg Tan leather using decorators tape, as shown here, which leaves very little mark when taken off. I like to sharpen my blades for a few times so they last a bit longer.

Pic 2. Next I used a 1mm single punch to make all the holes shown on the pattern, ignore what the wire is for, it’s just the wire for taking the photo..only got two hands though. I’m not going to show me cutting and punching all the pieces as the proceedure is the same for every piece.

Pic 3 . Once the pieces are cut out I burnished the edges of them all using gum Tragacanth and the wood slicker.

Pic 4.

Pic5. Pics 4 + 5.  On some of the pattern pieces there are a few ‘markers’ left by the maker, be careful to look for them and to carry the marks over to the leather...or you will have difficulty lining things up later. Check ‘every’ piece just incase.

Pic 6

Pic 7. Pics 6 + 7 show the handle. This is very easy to make so I felt no need to show it in more detail, just stitch the relevant pieces together to achieve the handle shown here. Then, take the cut out section that has the corresponding holes for the handle and stitch it on. the larger section on the bottom of each end should be stitched first follwed after by the top piece, note how the bottom stitching is ‘underneath’ the top piece. The stitch used on this bag project was mostly the ‘locking saddle stitch’.

Pic 8. Take the ‘side / end ‘ pieces and skive around the edge to about half the thickness, because now we have to wet ( not soak ) the edges and using our fingers roughly bend up the edges as seen here and allow time to dry. then take the end piece ‘edge’ strip shown here and once ‘that’ is stitched so the ends meet making basically..a circle..for now, line up those markers I mentioned on both pieces and stitch all the way around.

Pic 9. Here are the finished end pieces, now they don’t look quite so rough. Again burnish any rough edges to make them smooth. Be careful to have them in the correct position BEFORE stitching because it sucks to have to unstitch and start again, Yup...I did that.

Pic 10. Take the pieces that will attach the D-ring and first stitch the thin section to the side piece as seen here..REMEMBER to put the D-ring over the thin end BEFORE stitching, again..it sucks to have to unstitch and start again. ( Yup..you guessed it, I did it again. That’s what tiredness does to you lol.)

Pic 11. D-rings attached.

Pic 12. Take the main body section and the flap with the handle section. On the main body, bend into position and do a few stitches just to hold the pieces together..see where I’m pointing. These will be cut off and disgarded once your ‘actual’ stitchline meets it.

Pic 13.  You can see the main body here has the straps attached, they’re stitched to the main body prior to ‘bending’ into final shape as are the base strenghtener piece and any other pieces needed for it. You can’t really go wrong as Tony at Dieselpunk.Ro. ( Ro. Means Romania. )..also makes a build along Video to go with each pattern which can be located through his channel on Youtube. The main ‘Flap’ section is now attached to the main body..again using the good ol’ Locking saddle stitch.

Pic 14. Look closely you can see two sam brown buttons, ..I realised I had them on upside down here so I changed them around, they are used to help hold the additional inside section in place later.

Pic 15. Here’s the view of the bottom strengthener piece and showing the strap positions. If you punched all your holes correctly you will have no problem seeing where each piece should go, plus you can use the Dieselpunk.Ro video on Youtube and also my own build along Youtube video on my ‘Shamancraftprojects’ channel. Btw..as I’m here, If you like watching people just riding around on motorbikes and chatting about all kinds of things, ( no long boring talks about STATS I promise....I ride bikes, I don’t ‘Read’ them lol), I also have another Youtube channel called ‘Some Ol’ Dude’ where you can follow me as I ride around enjoying my 3 motorbikes. I hope you’ll drop by and have a look. It’s just as it says..Just ‘Some Ol’ Dude’ (Me..lol ) riding his bikes. Ok, back to the ‘One minute Bag’...btw, you are probably realising The sarcasm Tony used when naming this Bag by now hahahaha but it’s great fun to make.

Pic 16.

Pic 17. Pics 16 + 17 show me attaching the side panels, I used my awls to hold it in place whilst I got some stitching started the other end is already attached as you can see.

Pic 18. I used some chrome leather which was medium soft to cut out the inside pockets and stitched them to the inside panel as seen. Using the locking saddle stitch still. note the larger holes at the corners where it will attache to the Sam Brown buttons to hold it in the bag.

Pic 19. Once the bag itself is finished, just sand the edges where needed to give a nice smooth finish, using sand paper or a sanding machine. Be careful if using a sanding machine as you can catch your fingers and also because it takes just a moments inattention to ruin the edges of your project. Here you can see me finishing the straps. Believe me, by the time you’ve built the bag, these straps will be a piece of cake, just remember to attach D-rings and buckles before stitching.....errm, yes, I did forget hahaha. Hey, we all make mistakes, what counts is how you react to it and how you correct it..right??.

Pic 20. Annnnd VOILA!!. The ‘Sarcasticly’ named ‘One minute Bag’. Original idea and Pattern credit to Tony See at Dieselpink.Ro, please check him out he has some brilliant offers. What a lovely Bag this is and it was a lot of fun to make. You can find this and many other projects on my Blog ‘A Journey into Leathercraft’, look in the Archive. ( a.k.a. Beginners Journey into Leathercraft. )

Hope you enjoyed this one, sorry it’s been such a long time but as we all know the world has gone a bit mad over the past few years and sadly we lost a handful of relatives which took a time to get used to. Best wishes to all those who are still following me to this day Happy New Year to you and your families, keep well, till the next one, Bye for now.

[progg]

Repentance

I want to break down my favorite chapter of Hunter x Hunter and explain what makes it so astonishingly good. The chapter I’m referring to is #337, “Repentance”. In this chapter, Koala delivers his confession to a reincarnated Kite, Gon apologizes, and Koala commits to a life of redemption.

I think Repentance is unjustly disparaged for its low-quality art and lack of major plot beats. While I can understand the complaints, it’s my personal opinion that Repentance is, from a literary standpoint, the most brilliantly written chapter in the series. The chapter is crucial in establishing the major themes in the story.

The objective of this write-up will be threefold.

To explain why Repentance foreshadows the arcs of Gon, Killua, Kurapika, and Leorio, and how it ties in with the recent cyclical symbolism.

To explain how Repentance emphasizes the significance of the soul, existentialism, and spiritual fulfillment, and informs us of Togashi’s philosophy on life.

To explain why I believe Repentance is the most brilliantly written Hunter x Hunter chapter to date.

I’ll begin by doing a line-by-line breakdown of Koala’s speech, after which I’ll analyze the speech on a macro level (including a very cool observation regarding the speech’s structure!). Then, I’ll tie in what happens after the speech, culminating in an explanation of how the chapter encapsulates the entire series.

Before I jump in line-by-line, I’d like to preface how I’m addressing the text. I’ve consulted various different translations, picking out the passages that I believe best convey Togashi’s meaning. What you’ll see for each line is extracted from my “stitched together” version. If the text doesn’t match the associated image or original chapter, that’s why.

With that out of the way, let’s begin!

LINE-BY-LINE BREAKDOWN

“She was a redhead, just like you. The girl I shot to death. Because the ants that were chasing her—they would have their fun with her while she was still alive.”

We start off in medias res, with Koala confessing to the murder of an innocent girl. There’s almost no better way to hook someone into a story than with a sudden life-or-death situation (some of my favorite examples of this are in Dorohedoro and The Graveyard Book). Koala first portrays this murder as a “mercy killing”. He is saving the redhead from a fate worse than death.

“I thought to myself that, even after being reborn as an ant, I was doing the same things. Before all this, it was my job to snuff people. I’d get my orders and pull the trigger. The rest of the time I’d yell a lot. It was a job anyone could do. Even when I was reborn, it was the same thing. A stupid cycle.”

Koala goes on to explain how his occupation before becoming an ant eerily resembled his occupation after, and that he came to this realization shortly before killing the redhead. He takes special time to emphasize the unfulfilling monotony of his human job (see bolded sentences). While the immediate function of these sentences may seem to be explaining Koala’s disdain for the “stupid cycle”, they also support the idea of spiritual fulfillment that will be introduced later in the speech.

“I wanted to free her from that cycle. I don’t know the details… all I thought was that if I let them catch her and have their way with her, she’d be stuck too. A quiet life in a nowhere village, suddenly ended by irrational violence. I shot her, praying she would escape such a cycle.”

Koala justified his actions at the time of the murder in a rather convoluted way. Without the pre-knowledge that Koala regrets his actions, this passage can be a little confusing. It is, after all, an inherently flawed justification. There are many reasons for this, and Koala will explain one in the next section. Thematically, the “cycle” Koala is referring to may also be the Hobbesian cycle of violence alluded to in Ming Jol-ik’s poem. I will discuss this more later.

“But the queen ate hundreds of people, and only a few came back with memories. I guess that means most people escaped without my help. Still, I wanted to do it. I wanted to feel like I helped her escape. The fact that you’re here in the place of that girl means she probably did escape. And I haven’t yet met a previous existence who claims to have been killed by me. I guess… they all escaped.”

Here Koala hints at what will be confirmed near the end of the speech. His decision was rooted in selfishness rather than altruism. He wanted to feel like he helped the redhead escape, but in reality, there’s no reason to believe shooting her would do so.

“Before this, I never believed in the concept of the soul. To me, we were no better than fleas and flies. We lived and died, and that was it. The ego was a glitch, a side effect of an overly complex brain. Death was the end. We would die, disintegrate, and be scattered to tiny bits.”

We’re now approaching the first climax, which is unfortunately misrepresented (I think) by most translations. We’re also diving into some pretty heavy philosophical themes. Koala’s pre-transformation beliefs are essentially rooted in two schools of thought: physicalism, the belief that all things existing in the world are material (there are no souls), and nihilism, the belief that nothing one does in life matters.  What we see next is an almost complete rejection of those two philosophies.

“I thought those bits were nothing, but here I am, standing here, doing the same stupid things. I may be a fool, but I won’t deny what I know, and I won’t ignore what I don’t know. I died. I was torn to pieces and digested into molecules. But it didn’t end there. Those tiny bits that I thought were the ‘end’…  held greater power than I had ever imagined.”

Togashi’s personal beliefs begin to shine through here. Koala was separated into molecules, similar to how our own bodies decompose after death, but the particles he became were immensely powerful. There is something associated with these “tiny bits”, which we’ll come to understand is the soul.

“Tiny particles no larger than pollen are able to store energy for hundreds of thousands of years and affect our health. Even smaller is DNA, where the information that defines our bodies is stored on an elegant double helix. And even smaller, infinitesimally smaller, are the elements which gave birth to the entire universe.”

We’ve hit the first climax. This is an absolutely gorgeous sequence in which Koala categorically describes the relationship between size and power. Particles get smaller and smaller, but more and more powerful, until we reach the unimaginably small things that created the entire universe. Togashi is probably referring to the Big Bang, a scientific theory that dictates at some point, all of the universe was contained within a single point, smaller than an atom.

“The size of a thing has nothing to do with its power. The soul is probably small, but it has enough energy to ‘repeat’ itself.”

The reason for the previous sequence becomes clear. The soul may be just as small as the stuff that created the universe, allowing for Koala’s reincarnation despite being torn to bits. Again, we’re getting into heavy philosophical territory. I’m not sure where the soul resides in this context—if it’s in a specific location or if it exists throughout one’s body. I believe Togashi intended the latter. In this case, it would seem the soul can be salvaged from any portion of the body (this is how it works in Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun).

There’s also a very interesting implication here that the soul may be tied to the creation of the universe itself. An individual soul may, in some inscrutable way, be connected to all other matter. There are various schools of religion and philosophy that reflect this, including animus mundi, the hypothetical intrinsic connection between all living beings, and pantheism, the belief that God is synonymous with the universe. The idea of interconnectedness also comes up again in the very next chapter with the "world tree".

The animus mundi.

Whether you agree with these beliefs or not, this is a beautifully written passage that accommodates an equally beautiful belief system. It’s an argument for the existence of souls that is heavily rooted in uncertainty, but the way it unfolds is wonderfully poetic.

“So was I reborn just to ‘repeat’ the cycle? I don’t know what the future will bring. This is all just speculation. But something inside me is saying I need to stop repeating.”

Whereas the previous passage was heavily based on physicalism and spiritualism, the next is rooted in nihilism and existentialism. Existentialism is the belief that humans are in control of their fate. In other words, they are not doomed to “repeat the cycle”.

“Maybe the reason we have to repeat or redo things is because something was missing the first time. The body is slow to move if the heart isn’t into it. Even in my previous life, I kept thinking “this isn’t right”. And I’ll end up doing it all over again. I’ll keep thinking “this isn’t right”, because I’ll always make the wrong choice.”

Now we’re approaching the second climax. Remember when I mentioned how Koala’s previous life lacked spiritual fulfillment? That's what was “missing” back then. In order to break free of a self-destructive cycle, and by extension nihilism, one has to act in a way that satisfies their soul. This idea is extremely important when considering the arcs of the four protagonists, among others. More on that at the end of the write-up.

“I shouldn’t have shot the girl, but the guys chasing after her!”

Boom! We’re back at the beginning, but this time, things have changed. Having realized something was missing in his heart, Koala comes to a cathartic realization. He should have shot the ants, not the girl! The fact he has realized this already shows he is on the path to redemption.

“I was the biggest scumbag of all—I couldn’t ‘escape’ because I didn’t want to face the pain of my mistakes. I prayed for her escape? That was just an excuse. I shot her to protect myself. And now I’m making my confession to you because you look like her. Just trying to save my own dirty soul again. It’s a rather pathetic story, but thanks for listening.”

Koala is already introspecting and “facing the music”, which is exactly what he needs to do in order to break free of the cycle. He’s not there yet (he’ll take until the end of the chapter to get there), but it’s a step in the right direction.

GENERAL BREAKDOWN

Right off the bat, I’ll reveal the thing that blew my mind when I re-read this chapter. So much of Koala’s speech is about cycles, and when it comes down to it, the speech itself is a cycle. It’s a long, chiastic poem that begins where it ends and ends where it begins. It’s pure poetry. The prose is beautiful, the structure is beautiful. It’s just really, really, impressive writing.

Shooting the redhead → freeing (the redhead) from the cycle → meditations on the soul → freeing (Koala) from the cycle → shooting the redhead (but with a twist!)

Note that each half of the speech is essentially inverted. This coincides perfectly with the recent influx of Mobius strip symbolism, as well as the respective arcs of Kurapika, Killua, and Gon. If this is seems too abstract, don’t worry. I’ll elaborate more in the final section. For now, just remember how the speech is inverted.

Another really impressive thing about Koala’s speech is it’s focused on a character we have little attachment to. Koala has been irrelevant for many chapters, yet he delivers one of the most profound speeches possible. The same thing occurs with Ming Jol-ik’s poem at the end of the Chimera Ant arc (he’s not the writer, but the poem is associated with him).

“Come. Let us raise a glass. Let us drink… to this creature called man. Good and evil repeat in an endless cycle… on the spiral of time, where a lifetime is far too long for peace yet far too short for war. That is why they yearn. That is why they foster. If only they knew… that all one needs in life is the sun, the soil and poetry.” – CHAPTER 315

I think this poem, like Koala’s speech, loses some of its eloquence in translation. Still, it’s wonderfully written and echoes the idea that spiritually fulfilling actions are needed to break free of deadly, Hobbesian cycles.

Lastly, Koala’s speech gives us a pretty good idea regarding Togashi’s personal beliefs. I don’t want to assume anything, so I won’t. I’ll keep things pretty broad. Religion in Japan is a bit different than in other places. Despite Shinto and Buddhist beliefs permeating society, most Japanese do not identify with either religion.

The influence of Buddhism on Togashi’s works is clear, not only with Netero’s Nen, but also with the recurrent themes of resurrection. Reincarnation, in Buddhism, takes place via an endless cycle known as saṃsāra. As long as one has not achieved enlightenment, they will be reborn into the mortal world. Only by acting with good karma can one achieve nirvāṇa, and escape the cycle. This is very similar to Koala’s speech.

A depiction of saṃsāra.

This is also why I love Togashi’s take on resurrection. Sure, it can feel like a get-out-of-jail-free card sometimes, but in Hunter x Hunter, it’s much, much more than that. People change, undergoing literal and symbolic rebirths. I think it’s almost undeniable that Togashi believes in some aspect of the soul persisting after death. This idea is at the core of his previous work, YuYu Hakusho, which also seems influenced by Buddhist beliefs regarding karma. Not to mention, Halkenburg’s ability suggests the soul, in the Hunter x Hunter universe, can be separated from the body and transplanted somewhere else.

At the same time, Koala’s speech is very scientific in nature, and I can also see elements of agnosticism in Togashi’s works. Religion is seldom a focus, and I suspect most of the diverse religious symbolism scattered throughout Hunter x Hunter is simply because Togashi finds it cool.

What I’m most certain of, however, are the existentialist themes that permeate Togashi’s works. The most overt manifestation of this is at the end of the Yorknew City arc, when the Phantom Troupe changes their fates. However, Togashi doesn’t completely reject nihilism (see Keeney’s death on the Black Whale, and also, potentially, the realization of Neon’s prophecies). I think he’s setting up a nice dichotomy between the two. Just because characters can change their fates doesn’t mean they will.

IN THE CONTEXT OF THE CHAPTER

After the speech, Kite demands that Koala repents for his past actions.

Kite says “I’m not giving you a choice”, but Koala’s choice is at the center of this chapter. Koala is not doomed to “repeat the cycle” if he comes to terms with his past actions. He’ll linger nearby as a new visitor, Gon, inadvertently influences his decision.

It’s a bit on the nose, but Gon reaffirms his intent to change his behavior and stay by Kite. His situation directly parallels Koala’s, and a significant amount of space is dedicated to showing Koala hears this. Gon has also undergone a rebirth—at least, a symbolic one. But this time, he is facing the music and repairing his soul.

At the end of the chapter, Koala initiates a conversation with Kite in the same way Gon did: with an apology. And Kite responds, again, in the same way: “Sorry for what?” It’s yet another direct parallel to the interaction with Gon. Koala promises to lead a better life, breaking free of the cycle, and that’s how this deeply symbolic chapter ends.

IN THE CONTEXT OF THE SERIES

So Togashi decided to write a highly poetic chapter about cycles, existentialism, and spiritual fulfillment. What’s the point?

I’ve already mentioned that these themes have been underlying for a very long time, from Ming Jol-ik’s poem to Neon’s fortunes. The idea of repeating cycles is reflected in the arcs of many characters. Many recent events in the story parallel earlier ones. I believe the recent influx of Mobius strip symbolism is meant to be a variation on this cyclical symbolism.

The Mobius strip has only shown up on the cover of Journey to the New World, and the shape of the eponymous Lake Mobius, but it’s clearly significant. The Mobius strip is itself a cycle but is unique in that it contains twists and turns, sometimes overlapping with itself such as the one shown above. Symbolically, this reflects the chiastic structure of Koala’s speech as well as the arcs of several characters. They repeat themselves, but always with slight variations.

Gon

Gon underwent a symbolic rebirth after being healed by Nanika, and now he’s back where he started. His arc is, notably, an inversion of Killua’s. If Killua’s journey begins (in a way) when he accompanies Gon to Whale Island…

…Gon’s begins (in a way) when he returns there, alone.

I suspect that this time around, Gon will take very different actions than he did in the Chimera Ant arc. He’s soul searching on Whale Island, which is exactly what he needs to be doing right now. I wrote more about Gon and Killua’s arcs here, including where they might be headed.

Killua

Killua’s story has deep roots in existentialism. His future is planned out for him by his family, but he decides to take control of his destiny and become a better person.

It takes some time for him to break free, but he mentions never taking pleasure in the assassination business. There was always “something missing” when Killua was an assassin. Now, he seems to be in a much better place spiritually. He has found a new purpose in protecting Alluka (see essay above).

Kurapika

Kurapika represents perhaps the best example of Koala’s cycle-breaking motif. The Succession War parallels Yorknew City in a variety of ways. A self-destructive cycle is repeating for Kurapika, in which he loses a part of himself every time he regains the eyes of his brethren.

He is acting in a way that will not, by any stretch of the imagination, put him at ease (read more here). At some point, he will have to “face the music” and introspect. A symbolic or literal resurrection may be in the works.

Leorio

We will likely see a repeat of Leorio’s backstory occur a second time with Kurapika. Kurapika may be indisposed at the end of the Succession Arc, and Leorio will have to cure him, as he was unable to do for his young friend. I wrote about Leorio a bit in the essay linked above, although we still don’t know much about his arc. However, the opportunity is there for him to have his own “repetition”.

Hisoka

Before his resurrection, Hisoka makes a reference to “the eleventh hour.”

Typically, this phrase means “the latest possible time”, but it also has biblical origins. In the Bible, the eleventh hour refers to a story in which last-minute workers, hired long after the others, work just as hard and are paid the same wage. It’s an allegory for entry into heaven that suggests it doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past as long as you become a pious, moral person. Consequently, post-resurrection Hisoka has taken on the almost noble quest of killing the Phantom Troupe. His second life brings him closer to enlightenment, so to speak.

<source>

[fallintitan]

whiskey chapter uhhhhh 36

His first mission with the IMC goes horribly. He can’t say he’s all that surprised, given his track record so far in life. It’s still unknown to him and everyone else how he made it through basic training. But he did, and here he is--should he feel some sort of excitement, here? His first injury out on the field. Taube’s first screw-up of many, he supposes. 

His dominant arm is cradled against his chest and he can feel blood oozing onto the fabric of his gear from the bullet wound. He can also feel the sharp, grinding pain of broken bone-ends grinding against each other.

The feeling of eyes digging into him keeps him decidedly glaring into the floor. He refuses to meet anyone’s eyes, not even the medic’s as he’s tinkered with. Another IMC grunt stands guard at the door. While it feels like their gaze is more empathic and concerned, he resolutely ignores them as well. He doesn’t need to be pitied. If anything, he needs to be taught a lesson.

“Is he gonna be okay?” the guard at the door asks. Of course they’d be “concerned” about his well-being. If he were to be out of the field for too long, it would be another body out of work that could be instead helping the IMC with its work.

And, really, that’s all he’s good for at this point.

“He’s fine,” the doctor says bluntly, digging a piece of shrapnel out of Taube’s bicep and making him wince. “He’ll recover. This is far from the more serious injuries I’ve dealt with, and it’s also one of the dumber ones.”

He feels his face heat under the passive assault. He can tangibly feel his brows furrowing together further as he glares harder at the floor. 

“It was a mistake,” the guard counters. “Everyone makes mistakes, doc.”

“Not everyone gets injured by their shitty mistakes, soldier.” Out of the corner of his eye, Taube sees the medic look directly at the guard and dare him to speak further.

“I mean, I’m sure I have at the very least.” He swears he hears a hint of teasing in the words. “Heaven knows you’ve had to stitch me back together from stupider things.”

“Which is precisely why it needs to be wrung out of a person.” He feels a harsh jolt on his shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah.” His eyes fall to the side. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t lie to my face. I’m not an idiot.” The medic’s voice is harsh again. “With the way you’re acting, I’ll be expecting another visit very soon.” He pushes the little stool he’s stooped over back and away from Taube, rising to his feet. “Both of you. Get out. Don’t come back.”

Meekly, he takes the medic’s words to heart. He rises silently, arm now wrapped in gauze and medical tape and stuck at a crooked angle, approaching the door. He desperately hopes the guard won’t speak to him on his way back to his bunk. 

“Don’t take anything that guy said too seriously,” the guard says as soon as the door is shut behind them. Taube bites down a groan and keeps walking. Unfortunately, the guard is able to keep up with him. “Everyone here is a hardass. They take it competitively, it feels like.”

Taube doesn’t respond, focusing on his footsteps as they make their way through the halls. 

“You’re new, right?” The guard continues to chitter. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. ‘Course, that doesn’t really say much in terms of things. This place would hire damn near anyone if it meant they’d do what they asked.”

Surprise jolts through him. Why is this guy so openly speaking against the corporation that not-so-subtly made people that did so disappear without notice? “You’re stupid for saying that,” he mutters over his shoulder.

“This whole place is stupid,” the guard chuckles. “The higher-ups get a little too pissy when someone doesn’t kiss their boots the right way.” The guard bumps Taube’s shoulders with his own. “Plus, it’s only frowned upon if you get caught doing it.”

“It’s still stupid.”

“And why is that?”

“I mean, this place took us in, gave us jobs and shelter and all that. Why trash it?”

“‘Why trash it?’” the other echoes, seemingly stunned. “Have you heard of the shit this corporation does to get what it wants? War crimes upon war crimes, stacked on top of even more war crimes. The only reason people don’t speak out about it is because another war crime will be committed to keep them silent.”

“You really feel that way?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”

“So, why stay?”

“Taube, you think they’ll let me go if I defect? You think they’re just gonna let someone rumored to talk about the shitty side of things with his cohorts get away out into the world to keep jabbering?”

A pause. “No, not really.”

“That’s why I’m still here.” He hears the other man heave a sigh that sounds entirely too weary for someone his age. The guard is suddenly right next to him, crowding into his space respectively, but still close. “Always thought about it, though. Getting the hell out of here would be paradise.”

“Even as a whistleblower?”

“Even as a whistleblower. Not gonna waste my freedom knowing there’s awful things going on that I could do something about. They wouldn't be able to keep me shut down, even if the public begged me to shut up.”

Finally, he meets the man’s eyes. “That’s very noble. Stupid as hell, but noble.”

“It’s not about being noble,” the guard waves a hand dismissively. “It’s about doing the right thing.”

“Of course.” They pause outside Taube’s bunk, awkwardly hanging before the door. “Well, this is my stop.” Before he turns away, he adds, “Thank you for the company. You didn’t have to. But it was nice.”

“Nobody has to do anything if they really don’t want to. Just might end up dead with certain things.” The guard winks at him, then holds out a hand. “MacAllan. James MacAllan.”

Awkwardly, Taube reaches out with his left hand. “Robert Taube.”

“Nice to meet you. You’ll stay low about my ranting, will you? Just made a good friend, wouldn’t want him to get lonely without me being there because the officials caught wind.” A smile splits his face, honest and genuine.

“What ranting?” Taube smirks back at him. “All I heard was us talking about the glory of this place.”

MacAllan snorts and claps a hand on Taube’s good shoulder.”Good man.” 

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

The Marali Festival Commentary Day 5

And we’ve reached the end of the commentary for this story! Thank you so much everyone who has stuck it out this long, reading my HEAVILY detailed notes. (I like talking about this stuff 😭) And I hope everyone is ready for the accompanying drabble I have prepared for tomorrow. 👀

**SPOILERS FOR THIS FIC BELOW**  

Chapter 13- Kiss

Okay so this was my FAVORITE chapter to write. But, I’m always a sucker for confession scenes.

“Did you accept Tabor’s suit?”

Bilbo wanted to scream and rant and throw things. Stupid obtuse dwarf! Did he sound like someone happily courting another?

“No, I didn’t.” He snapped back.

Silence again.

“Bilbo, malkânê (my hobbit), mudùmê (my comfort) please open the door.”

The RELIEF I hope was physically palpable from Thorin right here as he rushes to spew endearments knowing Bilbo is still blessedly single. 

“Not your fault. I’m sorry that I’ve ruined our friendship with my stupid…” Bilbo mumbled.

“No! No, Bilbo. I’m afraid you’re misinterpreting my words.”

“That’s entirely the problem! I’ve misinterpreted this whole time that you…”

Thorin rolled his eyes before his lips locked onto the hobbit’s own. Bilbo froze before he slowly began to look up, hoping against all hope he didn’t just imagine that.

“Malkânê, my hobbit.” Thorin translated as he pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s forehead. “Mudùmê, my comfort.”

Another kiss, this time to the tip of Bilbo’s nose.

“And amrâlimê, my love.” He breathed before kissing Bilbo on the lips once more.

This was one of my favorite things to write! Thorin spelling out what he’s been saying in khudzul with kisses inbetween.😊

“I created a garden of my own. That’s how hobbits court? With flowers? It seemed appropriate for a day to celebrate the earth.”

Let it be said that Thorin’s ‘courting gift’ here was going to be more of a test in universe before Fili, Kili, and Tabor’s interference. Does Bilbo like it? Does he think it’s a romantic gift? Yes? Time to actively court him now! But, Bilbo’s basically confessed at this point so he has his answer.

“Just once, plainly, for me…tell me you love me?” He whispered fearfully, shutting his eyes against the idea of rejection now.

A string of kisses traced his jaw before finding his lips once more. Chaste, questioning, but present.

“Bilbo Baggins, I love you.”

Words of affirmation are definitely a Bilbo Baggins love language. Of course, if I had just had my heartbroken to be stitched back together .5 seconds later, I’d probably want the reassurance as well.

Chapter 14- Fireworks

So back-tracking to this Valentines’ list I’ve been using. The final day was actually supposed to be ‘First Date’. But when I started plotting this out, I again, changed it to fit my purposes...even though it sorta was a first date. 

“What’s got you down, Tabor?” Fili questioned.

“I was demoted!” He whined. “And no, before you ask. Not to guard duty for your idiots. I’m on gate duty for the next two months!”

Was Thorin a bit harsh? Probably. But also you know, his hobbit. 

Both of his nephews flailed dramatically. His youngest trying to plead with his beloved for mercy.

“I actually would have been much worse. You should thank him for showing you leniency.”

Thorin had to fight down the grin when Kili did just that with a whiney edge to his voice. He was not about to let the elf know he was amused.

And that’s was the moment Tauriel won over Thorin.

“Surprised at our courting?”

“Surprised it had not happened already.”

Thorin found himself snorting at the wizard’s wink and twinkling eyes. Honestly, he was as bad as his sister.

“Yes, well. Not for a lack of trying. Do you know how many blackberry tarts I’ve baked for this dwarf?” Bilbo sniffed with a put on expression.

Wait…blackberries?

I had to make Gandalf not only a Bagginshield shipper, but the only one to understand all the subtle hobbit hints Bilbo had been dropping while Thorin stands there like ‘wait, what?’

Thorin just watched as Bilbo’s delight lit up in shades of red, green, and blue with each explosion overhead. Slowly, he backed away from the hobbit moving to the small boulder that hid Thorin’s final surprise. He had not intended to give it tonight. He wanted to wait and let it be his next courting gift, but after he finally left Bilbo, he spent all night finishing his project. He didn’t want there to be a single doubt of his desire to make things official between him and his hobbit.

Bilbo realizing he had slipped away, turned to face him only to blink in surprise at the object thrust between them. The metallic bouquet with jeweled flowers lit up under the falling lights of the fireworks. Edelweiss for devoted courage, hydrangeas for gratitude, sweet pea for delicate pleasures, and yellow tulips for the sunshine is in your smile. A courting gift worthy of a hobbit. Thorin couldn’t say anything as he gently took Bilbo’s free hand in his own. Not that he needed to. Relief swam on Bilbo’s face as the flowers said everything Thorin couldn’t.

SHAMELESS PLUG FOR @stardryad-random​ and her AMAZING illustration. 😭😭 It really helped to make this story just that much more special. Thank you my friend!!

AND THAT’S THE END!! Cue the fireworks... 🤣 I also wrote a smut sequel, but I’m not going to commentate unless someone specifically requests. Otherwise, thank you guys for all your love for this fic!  💖💖

[trulyinspiringmovies]

Fear Street Part One: 1994

“Fear Street Part One: 1994″ utilizes its medium in a very creative way, but wastes all potential with abhorrent writing.

Deena Johnson is a Shadyside resident who is going through a recent breakup. The reason is that her significant other, Sam, moved to the neighboring town, Sunnyvale. Since the two towns have a rivalry, Deena and Sam eventually get into some conflict, leading Sam to barrel down a hill in a car. The car crashes in a spot in the woods and gives Sam some flashbacks of someone else’s life. Now, Sam is being targeted by a bunch of undead killers and it’s up to Deena and her friends to save her life.

With the evolving landscape of media distribution, it’s always exciting to see films take the full potential of the medium. With the prominence of the internet and video streaming services, it’s cool to see a series of movies come out weekly like television shows. Now, from a cursory glance, this could just look like a short season of television with longer episodes, but there are some key differences. For one thing, television episodes don’t have to specifically be self-contained. They’re a piece of a larger narrative, so you can get away with not addressing everything that’s been set up because you know you’ll eventually get to it by the end of the season. With a series of movies, you have to make each film stand on its own. “Fear Street Part One: 1994″ fails to do that. On its own, this movie is a hodgepodge of generic horror villains stitched together with bad writing. Each villain is forgettable because the filmmakers knew they were going to flesh out their backstories of them in later movies. The problem is, now that I’ve seen a movie where they’re so uninteresting, I don’t even want to bother learning about them. You can achieve a cool villain without divulging too much about their backstory, but this movie forgoes any of that effort. The main characters aren’t much better. When they were first introduced, I genuinely thought they were just some random side characters for that one scene. They instantly came off as unlikeable. This movie is heavily inspired by “Scream” and the characters in those movies are supposed to be unlikeable, but the performances help the audience still love them. Stu Macher is objectively insensitive and annoying to his friends, but to the audience, we’re entertained by Matthew Lillard’s performance. In this movie, we have Deena who’s mad at her girlfriend because her parents decided to move. Then we have Kate who has this stuck-up popular girl attitude. Also, we later learn that she has kids sort out drugs for her to sell, which is scummy. We have Simon, who’s not funny. Finally, we have Josh who’s basically a simp. In an homage to “Scream”, they kill off Maya Hawke and unwittingly kill off the most endearing character in this entire movie. I don’t like any of the characters we’re left with so I’m not invested in seeing them survive the night. Whoever the music supervisor for this movie was needs to be fired because it’s downright unacceptable how many licensed songs got crammed into this movie. And when I say crammed, I genuinely mean crammed. There are scenes with multiple licensed songs fighting one another to be heard. It also doesn’t help that the audio mixing in this movie was trash too. I mentioned before that this movie suffers from abhorrent writing and I think that that is this film’s worst transgression. The dialogue doesn’t feel human ever. It’s expository and unnatural. The setups exist for the sole purpose of setting something up for later, so those moments stick out like sore thumbs. Then, when those setups are finally ready to be paid off, we’re already expecting the payoff because they did a horrible job at hiding the setup. Finally, characters make decisions that don’t make sense or things happen that make no sense. There’s this bus scene where Shadyside’s bus is being chased by a couple of Sunnyvale hooligans. Deena opens the back door to throw a drink cooler at the car. The bus driver never stops the vehicle and the car behind the bus never swerves or stops to avoid the cooler. It’s so contrived that it hurts. Then, you have a scene where Deena needs a gun, so she tackles an officer of the law and steals his gun because the holster wasn’t strapped. And she isn’t reprimanded for assaulting this officer. Then she uses the gun once in the very next scene and then abandons it. There’s also a scene where the characters escape in an ambulance and it’s never shown how they got the keys to it or how they even got access to it. The movie is filled with moments like this and it just hurts the viewing experience. I will admit that I thought the reveal of Sam’s blood was creative and that there was one cool scene with a character’s death, but that’s about all the credit I can give this film. If the two other movies hadn’t been made before the release of this film, it would’ve surely killed the franchise before it even started.

★★

Watched on October 24th, 2022