#unfortunately i am much more motivated by gift knitting than knitting for myself

[unopenablebox]

should my next Big Knitting Project be lace shawl 2 or sweater

if sweater: i have a sweater in progress from a thousand years ago that i could pick back up. pro: have and like pattern and yarn. already have a front and a sleeve. con: only about 70% that i made a front and not a back would need to investigate. only about 60% that i definitely wrote down the needle size. would have to reswatch to find out if my tension changed since 2019.

while i still like that sweater i'm really most motivated by the idea of making sweater for 🌸 but it adds a lot of stakes to pattern selection since they don't actually have maximal introspective access to their own clothing taste. and also i have not made a lot of garments in the past and it might require a lot of reknitting to get it to a gift quality im happy with, which unfortunately given my Disability is a really severe setback if my goal is "eventually make finished objects". not that that's my only goal but i do care about it somewhat

lace shawl meanwhile is mostly motivated by the fact that i am super high on the joy of beading and lace rn. which is a very good reason to do it, but i truly truly do not know what i would possibly do with second lace shawl. dont even know if 🌸 will like wearing the first one yet.

[the28thofseptemberr]

for the past few months i’ve unfortunately been reading and writing less, so to try to motivate and push myself back into reading and writing fics i’m doing this fic rec & recap thingy!! i’ve seen a lot of people on my dash do something similar and i thought it would be fun, although sadly the list is quite short :/

here are the fics i’ve read (and loved) and the fics i’ve written this month!

read

•° — breakable heaven by @daggerandrose / amomentoflove  44.5k | E | hades/persephone au

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

note: this one was AMAZING. it contained literally everything i want in a fic and was just so so good, i love dark harry who is a softie for louis and this ticked all the boxes for me, i couldn’t recommend this one more :)

•° — yesterday came suddenly by @falsegoodnight 48.4k | E | assassin au

They don’t talk about it. The way Harry deflects any and all questions about his past and Louis pretends he isn’t confused or hurt by it. The way Harry keeps a distance between them and Louis acts like he can’t see it creating a wall between them. The way Harry doesn’t always answer honestly and Louis goes along with it as if he can’t tell. They don’t talk about it.

Harry knows Louis feels like he doesn’t know him well enough, and it pains him. It pains him every time Louis gets that look on his face that’s a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and confusion. And sometimes, self-blame. It pains him because Louis is wrong.

Because even though there is a lot Louis doesn’t know about him, there is so much that he does. He knows what Harry is like at his most vulnerable: curled up on this bed with him in the dark where it’s safest. He knows Harry in a way no one else does.

-

Or the one where Harry, the deadliest member of the NYC assassins’ guild, is forced to face a seemingly impossible task in hopes of finally leaving the underground behind for good, but when ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, escaping the darkness becomes that much harder.

note: oh my god this was incredible, it was fluffy and angsty and action-packed in all the right places and a darker fic like this might not be for everyone but it was perfect for me (i love john wick so i was so excited to read this one!!)

•° — make my wish come true by @soldouthaz 2.8k | M | holiday fic

The taste of Christmas cookies fresh out of the oven and peppermint hot chocolate is still heavy on his tongue. Harry’s sweater provides some warmth and it still smells of him from before he left for his internship two weeks ago, but it’s nowhere near the feeling of his arms wrapped around him. Louis shivers despite the blankets.

+

part iii of holiday drabbles

note: ahh this one was adorable! just super super cute and sweet and made me feel so warm and happy <3

•° — things unsaid by @londonderrytea / ladylondonderry 4.4k | G | soulmates au

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

Or, where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

note: this one was so cute and humorous and fun!! i smiled like an idiot the whole time i read this

•° — practice in pencil, seal it in pen by @loubellies 16.4k | E | friends to lovers

Prompt 174: AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending please

or Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

note: i am such a sucker for friends to lovers + oblivious harry and louis, plus jealous harry and we got to see both povs and see the mutual pining which is just perfection *chef kiss*

•° — (quiet like a fight) fingers laced together by @letthemkissyou / decadent 17.4k | M | hybrid!louis

It’s a thin hope, frail and as thin as the silver strands of a spider web, desperate in the way Louis keeps clinging onto it even when he’s already expecting and preparing for the worst. Maybe one day, he’ll have a home, a place where he can feel safe and sound, tucked away safely from the world that has the tendency to treat him horribly and then even worse, that maybe there will be someone in his life who cares for him, even if in the smallest of ways, and does not just use him for whatever they tend to need at the moment.

Or, the one where Harry is gifted a hybrid and it's a whole new world for the both of them.

note: this is beautifully written and just really stunning overall :)

re-read

•° — i'll do what it takes to make this fly by literato 4.3k | G | angst with happy ending

How could Harry be so... stupid? So passive and pretending like nothing’s wrong. Of course, something’s wrong. Everything’s wrong. It’s been going on for months since Harry got a promotion and Louis’ not sure if he can take this anymore.

or

an au inspired by Olly Murs' Up featuring Demi Lovato.

note: this is one of my comfort fics!! i’ve read it countless times and i love it, it’s heartbreaking but fluffy

•° — severed by jacinth 5k | M | abo

He would rather have Harry hate him and live, than love him and die.

note: another fic i’ve read many times - one of my go-to’s

my own fics

•° — in this damn world 6.2k | T | wisdom teeth au

louis gets his wisdom teeth removed and harry's there to take care of him through the loopiness of it all. ice cream, cuddles, and adorable goofiness ensues.

•° — chapter two of i’ll love you for a lifetime wip, 6.6k | G | highschool au

[sequel to love me, please?]

harry is the popular boy at school, loved by everyone and enjoying his life. louis is the quiet, shy but unbelievably gorgeous boy who makes a certain curly boy fall deeply in love with him. the only problem is, they've never talked before. so what happens when a frog crushes on a hedgehog?

only, this time the story is told through the eyes of the blue-eyed boy.

aka a larry stylinson high school au

[prismaticmuses]

Verdant had been itching to find anywhere they felt comfortable going, but since they were trying to follow Rory, that meant they couldn’t just wander around. Rory had offered to take Verdant to the dance hall, but it seemed a bit too intimate for them for now. So, once it was announced, they both decided to go see the motorcycles- it would be loud and crowded, but at least no one would be paying them much attention.

While there, Rory would point out certain people in the crowd or on stage if he recognized them to give Verdant something to focus on while helping them feel more connected to the world around them. So far, things seemed to be going well. There were a few eyes on them, with Verdant’s odd outfit and Rory’s celebrity status, but he easily warded anyone off with a sharp glare.

Once the two were in a quieter spot, Verdant looked down and slowed to a halt. 

“What’s wrong?” Rory stopped to stay with them, frowning curiously.

“... okay.”

“You’re okay? You don’t seem okay. Was that too loud or crowded?”

They shook their head but didn’t lift their eyes. “Okay... but why though.”

“Why? Why what?”

“’Be specific, Bob,’” Verdant mumbled to themself, finishing a quote from a movie they’d seen before continuing their original thought. “You’re nice. Why.”

“Haven’t you asked me this before? You still don’t think I’m genuine, do you.” That hurt a bit. Rory had grown fond of this odd person, had given them a place to stay, helping give opportunities to go out in the world and start their way to independence. But maybe it was too much. They probably thought there were ulterior motives. Rory sighed and put a gentle hand around their shoulders. “Let’s go sit and talk.”

Once they were seated, Rory paused to let Verdant think. They didn’t lift their head.

“Verdant. Please look at me.” It took a moment, but they eventually complied. “Why do you think I have other reasons to be kind than... to be kind?”

“... ‘make yourself useful,’“ they muttered, tugging at their sleeves. They shrugged. 

Rory’s brow knit. So they were accustomed to being used. For what, he didn’t think would be appropriate to ask. They’d never seemed to shy away physically, so he ruled out some of the worse scenarios. Then it hit him. “Water. You breathe underwater.” That was a powerful gift around Apricus, especially if they were from the docks. With their strange behaviors, people must have looked down on them as a person and just wanted to use them for their power. That was a sickening thought. “I’m sorry, and I promise I will never treat you that way. You’re a person just as much as anyone else.

“But you asked me why. If I’m not planning to use you as a tool, why am I nice to you, specifically. ... I... suppose you remind me of a younger brother of mine. I have quite a large family, but he was special to me. We spent a lot of time together when we were younger while the parents were off on digs. He learned things a bit differently than the rest of the family, and we tried to accommodate him and help him through life. ... Unfortunately....” He hadn’t spoken about it outside the family before. It was tough, but Rory felt they should know. “... he took ill. We didn’t understand it at the time, but we tried anything we could. Despite our advances in technology, some things can’t be cured.... I lost him. ... It’s been nearly 5 years since then, but I still think about it. Death is easier for me than life, at times. I feel more connected to corpses than living people.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t consider life as precious. And so, I suppose I want to give you the opportunities my brother never had. It’s selfish.... 

“You know, you’re free to leave at any ti-” but he was cut off as Verdant suddenly embraced him. It was quite a tight hug. The younger one seemed to be crying, so Rory just sat and patted their head. “There, there. You don’t need to be sad for me, little one. I’m quite capable of handling myself. And don’t be sad for yourself, either. There are things in this life we can’t control. As they say in Rèunion, ‘c’est la vie.’ That’s life.”

“Stupid.” Verdant sniffled. They didn’t move, the two just sharing a quiet moment before going back to the festivities.

[thefreckledone]

Pompeii 46

Sakura traced along the salt circle with her feet, slowly making her way around the clinic and apartment. Sai and Yamato were her silent shadows, but she could sense their nervous energy. The lines of salt were no thinner than an inch at any given point and in the areas behind the building the design swirled outward into what appeared to be runes. Sakura sneezed, rubbing her nose at the sheer force of the magic within the salt.

It completely encircled her property.

“What do you think?” Yamato asked, scrubbing a hand through the coarse hairs at the back of his neck.

“It’s quite strong,” Sakura said, bending down to examine a rune that appeared to be an inverted ‘g.’ “How much energy did the two of you have to put into it?”

“Shizune assisted,” Sai said. “She’s been shoring up power within artifacts for decades.”

When Sakura still looked concerned, Yamato took her hand in his and patted it. “Sai and I will be running low for a few days, but our apartment and yours are impenetrable.”

“And salt alone will do this?” Sakura asked, thinking back to the memorable baking experience where Ami mistook salt for sugar when baking a chocolate chip cookie pie. Perhaps Ami was trying to ward their apartment.

“It’s more than salt,” Sai said, staring at the different designs. “It’s imbued with our magics and our intent. It’s able to assess the motives of those who touch its borders and keep them from crossing if they hold hostile intentions.”

“ You—we’ll be safe,” Yamato said.

Sakura nodded, a slow smile overtaking her face. “Well, alright then. Thank you both for your kindness and generosity. I guess we can begin your restoration period with a movie marathon. How do you feel about Studio Ghibli films?”

Yamato and Sai glanced at each other before shrugging.

“Oh are you two in for a treat,” Sakura said, herding them toward the front door.

“Sakura?”

The trio whirled and Sakura grinned.

“Kakuzu! It’s been awhile!”

“Has it?” Kakuzu stepped across the salt, shuddering slightly. He looked between Sai and Yamato’s thunderous scowls. “Which of you included the sting in the protection spell?”

Sakura glanced between the men, frowning at Yamato and Sai. She wasn’t sure if they were being overzealous or, considering the attitude of the town, properly cautious. Still, as she met Kakuzu’s slightly confused gaze, Sakura knew that he didn’t mean her any harm. Besides, he’d crossed the barrier of salt just fine.

“It’ll be fine,” Sakura said, looking meaningfully at Yamato and Sai. “Go ahead and get My Neighbor Totoro queued up; I’ll be up shortly.”

Sai was the first to turn away, clapping a hard hand on Yamato’s shoulder and pulling the glaring man away.

“I hadn’t realized they moved in,” Kakuzu said, smiling slightly as he looked at Sakura. “A lot has changed these past few days, huh?”

Sakura frowned slightly, letting Kakuzu into the clinic. “Kakuzu, it’s been a year since I last saw you.”

Kakuzu’s eyes went wide and he stumbled as he crossed the threshold. Sakura caught his arm, helping to take a seat. He sat down heavily, placing his head in his hands.

“Are you alright?” Sakura asked, rubbing a hand over his.

“When am I?” Kakuzu asked.

“Well, the last time I saw you was at the Uzumaki party closing out the old year. It’s been over a year since then. We’ve just ushered in a new year. The Uzumaki I’m sure completed the same rituals as last year but without all the fanfare; it was a private affair.”

“Private?” Kakuzu asked. “The winter solstice festival has been opened to the public for centuries. There’s no way that the Uzumaki of all clans would suddenly close it off.”

Sakura grimaced. “Well, a lot has changed in the year since your disappearance.”

In halting starts and stops, Sakura told him of current climate in Pompeii, the mysterious illness, and the turn of its citizens upon her. Kakuzu stayed silent throughout, but kept his hand over hers, squeezing at the specific intervals wherein Sakura discussed Pompeii’s attitude toward her.

“A lot has happened while I’ve been away,” Kakuzu said when Sakura fell silent. “More than anything that’s happened in the past few decades.”

“Where were you?” Sakura asked. “Do you normally disappear for months on end like that?”

Kakuzu shook his head, eyes curving up into a smile above his mask. “No, it isn’t normal. Usually I’m better able to keep track of the passage of time. I was in the fifty-second dimension which tends to cause one’s mind to wander far beyond time and space but…” He fell silent, brows knitting together with concern.

“But what?” Sakura prompted.

“I tried crossing back here a few times,” Kakuzu said. “I was…unable to. I had to jump among a few dimensions to finally make my way back here, which has never happened before.”

“Something prevented you from returning?” Sakura asked. “How is that even possible?”

Kakuzu shrugged in a particularly blase manner, but Sakura could read the concern in his eyes. “There was some sort of barrier between myself and Pompeii. I couldn’t reenter this reality. I was able to brush up against the barrier though and it felt…cosmological in nature.”

“Meaning?” Sakura asked.

“The essence of it was ancient, beyond myself or any of the denizens of Pompeii. I’ve felt such things before, rarely, in my travels.” He squeezed her hand. “It is something that has existed since the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?” Sakura asked, a trickle of fear trailing down her spine.

“The beginning of all,” Kakuzu said. “The beginning of both natural and unnatural existence.”

Sakura read the spark of fear in Kakuzu’s eyes and felt her body go cold all over. For Kakuzu, a being who sifted the fabrics of time and space easily, to be frightened scared her even more. What could she possibly bring to the table? Sakura curled her ragged fingernails into her palms, scowling. Though there was little she could offer, she’d offer it still. That had to mean something.

It had to.

“It has been awhile since I last saw you here.”

Sakura glanced up, fighting the urge to fidget guiltily as she met Hiruzen’s gaze. She smoothed back her hair, knowing it was a futile gesture in the face of the war the magical books waged against her. The books on philosophy and the existence of the universe were apparently quite finicky about being handled and they weren’t afraid to let her know it.

“Things have been busy,” Sakura said, trying to keep from being defensive.

“Ah, you mean the tongues of the town have been busy,” Hiruzen said knowingly. Sakura flushed but did not disagree. “Unfortunately, Pompeii is kept running not by magic but by the gossip mill.”

“Sir?” Sakura said.

Hiruzen smiled, softening his harsh features to those of a genial elder. “Pompeii has abused you quite harshly. They’ve forgotten the services you’ve so willingly provided far too quickly. We may be long-lived creatures, but our memories appear to be much shorter lived.”

“You still do not believe this is my fault?” Sakura asked, chest tight with relief.

“Of course not,” Hiruzen said. “You, unlike many, have been seeking out the source.” He nodded to the pile of books. “Few have even considered coming by the library to use its knowledge. Besides, you know as well as I that there are far more likely candidates than you. The trees are the vessels for the attacks. I can think of only one individual who could possibly command the trees to act in a way so adverse to their nature.”

Sakura’s face fell. As much as she disliked Hashirama, especially the cold, easy calculation in his eyes whenever he looked at her, she didn’t think he’d destroy Pompeii. She’d seen his deep love for the town, quiet but profound. “Is he the only one with such abilities? Certainly, everyone seems to think he’s some sort of unique prodigy but he cannot be the only person to possess these particular gifts.”

Hiruzen eyed her with contemplation. “Perhaps,” he said. “Hashirama himself has experienced great tragedy in his life that may have driven him to such lengths. He lost two brothers in a skirmish with some nonmagical folk, centuries ago. Perhaps he believes he can bring them back, should he harness the powers of others. Besides, no one else with such power exists in Pompeii’s history.”

Sakura glanced down at the books in her arms. “Maybe not in its written history,” Sakura said. “No one has recorded a firsthand account of Pompeii’s founding, right?”

“As far as we know,” Hiruzen said. “All is legend and speculation; secondhand accounts that create legends larger than life.”

“Perhaps they were more accurate than you think,” Sakura said, thinking to the knights in the forest. “If nothing else, Pompeii has taught me that truth is far stranger than fiction.”

Hiruzen chuckled, patting her shoulder. “You may be right, my dear. Would you like me to go ahead and check out your books?”

“One moment,” Sakura said, running back to the shelves. She scanned them, grabbing one and adding it to her pile.

“Legends and Tales of Our Supernatural Beginnings,” Hiruzen read, glancing quizzically at Sakura.

“Legend and speculation,” Sakura said, smile wry. “This is a land where everything is larger than life. What better stories to explore than those of the gods among the supernatural? Perhaps they will have some extraordinary solution to the problem on our hands.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Hiruzen said softly, leading her toward the front doors.

“As do I,” Sakura replied, nodding her thanks as he opened the door for her.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Ahead of her, out in the courtyard of the library stood Tobirama, his arms crossed over his dark trench coat and green scarf. He was pale, paler than usual and Sakura knew it was the sickness within him. The stripes upon his face stood out clearly against his unhealthy translucent skin.

“Tobirama,” Hiruzen greeted, face unreadable as he moved to stand beside Sakura. “Are you feeling better? Hashirama let me know you’d fallen ill.”

“I couldn’t stay in bed,” Tobirama said, eyes focused intently on Sakura. She kept her gaze averted. He looked angry. And, considering the topic of her conversation with Hiruzen earlier, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. It seemed unlikely for the brother of the potential perpetrator to show up so soon after the conversation. “There is too much going on to stay idly by.”

“And are you coming in?” Hiruzen asked mildly, ignoring the tension between Tobirama and Sakura.

“I can’t,” Tobirama said reluctantly, sneering up at them. “Why have you blocked the entrance against me? I thought all were free to learn here.”

“They are,” Hiruzen said. “I am not the one preventing you from using the library’s facilities.”

“Oh yeah?” Tobirama’s lips curled in pain as he looked at Sakura. “Are you erecting the barrier?”

“She is not responsible for it either,” Hiruzen said, voice still calm even in the face of Tobirama’s raw emotion. “The library is an extension of Pompeii itself; I nor anyone else has control over its whims.”

Tobirama reared back in offense, hands flashing briefly with gold energy. “What are you implying, Sarutobi?”

“Was that not clear enough for you?” Hiruzen asked blandly. “Allow me to be frank: Pompeii is the power here. If you are unable to walk up the steps of the library, then it must be because Pompeii wants it to be so. The question you should be considering is why Pompeii would do such a thing? It is rare for Pompeii to actually intercede in the physical realm. What have you done to incur the wrath of the town?” Tobirama’s eyes flashed to Sakura for but a moment before returning to Hiruzen, but Hiruzen caught it. “It seems you have some idea as to Pompeii’s reason for doing this.”

Tobirama opened his mouth for a moment before quickly closing it. He shook his head, turning away from them. Sakura and Hiruzen watched until he disappeared.

“Thank you,” Sakura said, warmed by Hiruzen’s defense of her.

Hiruzen smiled. “I like to fancy myself an observant individual. I pay attention to the town and those it likes or dislikes. You, my dear, are well liked by Pompeii. The town is a far better judge of character than myself or any of the other denizens. Do not give up hope yet.”

Sakura shifted the books before reaching out to loop an arm around Hiruzen’s neck. “Thank you for believing me.”

“Of course, my dear. Here,” Hiruzen gently turned her toward the courtyard once more. Now the pink brick led up to circle lining her apartment. “Head on home. The library is open to you whenever you need it.”

The quiet movement of water lulled Sakura as she flipped through the pages of the book. In her periphery, Marigold and Daffodil practiced swordplay with weapons that creaked with each strike against one another. The small shrine was an oasis in a sea of uncertainty, untouched by the dark mysteries of the forest. Truly, Sakura thought it the best location to attempt to unravel said mysteries.

She skimmed entries of land masses rising from fights among veritable titans, more interested in stories taking place after the formation of this world.

She paused on a story about deposing a magic drunk tyrant with unnatural fruit, tracing over the illustration that accompanied the text. “Peaches,” she murmured, eying the swollen fruits in contemplation.

Perhaps it was an unhappy coincidence, an odd tie between magic and this particular fruit. Sakura closed her eyes, a shadow of the sweet scent filling her lungs.

Perhaps not.

Something tapped the side of her head and Sakura flinched, turning to the source. Marigold stood there, the butt of its sword sliding down to rest against Sakura’s shoulder. It clutched the battered sheath within its hand, marigolds spilling over across the sword.

“Sorry,” Sakura said, smiling up at the knight. “Did I zone out?”

Daffodil came up alongside Marigold, slapping the back of its helmet. Daffodil seated itself beside Sakura, leaning against her shoulder.

“I was just reading through the stories,” Sakura said, sighing as she flipped through the pages listlessly. “I hoped for some answers. So far, not much has come up, but hope springs eternal…”

Daffodil patted her arm in sympathy.

“Actually, I did have some questions for you,” Sakura said, pondering on what Hiruzen told her earlier. “Are you, by chance, related by blood to the thing that’s harassing Pompeii?”

Marigold tapped its foot twice.

Sakura swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. Perhaps Hiruzen was right about Hashirama, though she didn’t want to believe it. “I know that the Maiden was involved the last time the forest acted up. What did she do specifically? Did she fight the entity?”

Marigold tapped twice for yes while Daffodil tapped once for no.

They looked at each other, crossing their arms.

Sakura frowned at the conflicting answers. Unfortunately, there was little they could do to communicate the apparent complexities across the simplistic channel they’d created.

“In the end, she sacrificed herself,” Sakura said, tracing along the gilt of the book’s lettering. “Is there any way to avoid the sacrifice of the self?”

The two knights turned their attention to her, but they did not respond.

Sakura felt a chill run down her spine and she rubbed at her arms.

“Yeah,” she said, pausing to clear her throat at the thickness that lodged there. “That was what I was afraid of.”

They stayed in silence for several long moments as Sakura contemplated the worn, tidy shrine across the pond from her. The Maiden, whoever she was, had been willing to give her life for this place, before it was even Pompeii.

“So,” Sakura said softly, keeping her gaze to the book. “Where did this grand showdown take place?”

Golden light filled her peripherals. Sakura blinked before lifting her head. All of the hairs on her neck and arms stood on end.

At the very edge of the protective circle of the sanctuary, a will-o’-the-wisp bounced up and down, a buoy on a waveless ocean of air. Twenty feet beyond it, Sakura saw another, and another further beyond it.

The forest was beckoning to her.

The two knights stepped in front of her, hands to their swords.

“It’s alright,” Sakura said, shaking her head. “It hasn’t come to that; it won’t come to that. I won’t let it.”

She stood, stepping around until she was alongside the shrine. Sakura placed her hand on it, a sense of calm overcoming her in the moment. Silvery wisps of light threaded over and across her hand, encircling her wrist.

“It won’t end the same way this time.”

Sakura tiptoed through the garden, clutching the notice-me-nots close to her chest. Imbued as they were with an enhancement from Shizune, Sakura knew no one was going to see her but she couldn’t keep from being nervous as she heard voices from within the house.

She did her utmost to ignore them, focusing instead on the lattice that trailed upward to a small balcony. Sakura tucked the packet of notice-me-nots into her bra, pulling on her gloves before testing the lattice. It was, as she expected, quite sturdy beneath her grip. Thorns bit into the gloves, but left Sakura’s skin unscathed. Sakura hoisted herself onto the lattice, trying to avoid crushing the pale purple roses as she climbed. She swung herself over the railing of the balcony, landing softly.

The curtains were drawn and Sakura looked in.

The room was tidy and rich with all sorts of wall hangings and maps. A large desk filled with books and knick knacks stood in one corner. In the other was a large bed piled high with blankets. Beneath those blankets lay Ino, face waxy and wan even at this distance.

Sakura pressed at the door, unsurprised to find it locked. She wiggled her credit card between the double doors, shaking her head when, after a few moments of maneuvering, the doors swung open.

The lack of security was appalling, though it certainly explained how Kin and the rest survived even as veritable outcasts of Pompeii.

She pressed into the room, hating the stale taste of magic and medicine that lingered heavily in the air. It was nearly suffocating and Sakura knew it wasn’t good for Ino, magical disease or no. No one needed to live like this.

Sakura approached the bed, heart sinking the closer she got to Ino. Ino’s face was sunken and pallid, aging her far beyond her supernatural youthfulness. For once, she almost looked her true age. Lines of sickly green ran close to the surface beneath her skin, interconnected pathways that didn’t follow any normal physiological pattern. Sakura guessed that they traced the veins of magic that wove throughout Ino’s very being, marking her essence as different from that of a human. Patches of skin were covered with dull feathers, many shed among the blankets that encompassed her body.

Sakura swallowed against her suddenly dry throat, as she came face-to-face with the extent of Ino’s illness. Ino was a latecomer to the sickness, the symptoms appearing only a week and a half ago. How much worse off were the early victims?

How much closer to death were they?

Sakura pulled the notice-me-nots away from her skin and brushed Ino’s sweaty hair out of her face.

Ino stirred, blinking bleary cornflower blue eyes. “Sakura?” she asked in a husky voice.

“Hey,” Sakura greeted, movements gentle as she began to braid Ino’s hair out of her face. She didn’t ask how Ino was doing. They both knew it was a trite question and Sakura feared the answer. She strummed a thumb across Ino’s far too pronounced cheekbone. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too,” Ino said. She startled, grabbing Sakura’s hand as she struggled to sit up. “Do my parents know you’re here? They’re angry, even though I told them—”

“It’s alright,” Sakura soothed, showing her the notice-me-nots. “I hadn’t realized how unusual the potted flowers you’ve gifted me with were until Yamato told me. Were you preparing for a situation like this?”

Ino huffed a laugh, for a moment looking younger and brighter. “I am all knowing.”

Sakura grinned, turning Ino’s hand palm up so she could trace spiraling patterns over it. “I should listen to you more often.”

“You should,” Ino agreed. She clamped her hand around Sakura’s fingers, waiting until Sakura looked at her. “Listen to what I’m saying now. You need to leave Pompeii.”

“What?” Sakura flinched away from her.

“Pompeii is getting worse,” Ino said. “I hear them talking sometimes, when they think I’m sleeping—you have to leave. It’s too dangerous for you to stay.”

“Ino—”

“No!” Ino said, grimacing before falling back into her bed. She coughed and Sakura eased her back into a more comfortable situation. “Sakura, please.” Tears streamed down her face as her voice rasped out of her chest. “I love you. You can’t die a pointless death; not here, not for Pompeii.”

“I won’t,” Sakura said, bowing her head over Ino’s until their foreheads nearly touched. “I won’t. But I’m not leaving, not yet. If I must…well, I’m making arrangements.”

“Good,” Ino said, eyes falling shut. “Good. I’m so tired…”

“Rest,” Sakura replied. “All will be well soon.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ino’s forehead.

She tucked the notice-me-nots back into her clothing, watching as Ino drifted into an uneasy sleep.

“I love you too.” Sakura said, taking one last look at Ino before stepping out onto the balcony. “And I won’t be repeating history.”

[space-arts]

Is it rude to ask how come you barely post art anymore ?

Partially because of the holiday gift making right now, partially because I'm struggling (with art). I have been making a lot of handmade items for gift giving and I'm still only about halfway through. I don't usually have this much non-art coming through so rapidly, but it's been flying out the ying-yang as of late. Now, unfortunately for you, even though most of my asks would be as simple as this you have come at the right time.... for a wall of text. I've just been pondering over a lot of stuff recently, and this ask kind of gives me the ability to speak out a lot of thoughts that I've had brewing. Sooooooooooo sorry about this... If I am being brutally honest I feel as if drawing and I have drifted apart and I don't believe it is ever going to continue to be the main thing in my life anymore. I don't want to give up on art, but I don't believe I have the same connection to it any longer and it's senseless of me to cling to something that just isn't there. I have been wearing myself down for a very long time, and forced myself to draw even if I didn't want to every single day for years miserably. It led to me ruining the happiness that I got from making art. I burnt myself out for years, and I feel that it will take years to recover what I have lost. Right now I am drawing to just even out the queue. What kind of art is that to look at? I know I've put nothing into it, no effort no joy no nothing. So when people look at it, I feel it radiates nothing. It is sad to be forcing myself to draw only for the sake of updating a tumblr queue but it's where I'm at right now. Recently though I have wanted to knit and crochet more and more, and with that plus gift making there is I'm sure a sudden surge with more handmade items... especially because it is only recently that I finally started posting the majority of what I make because I'm more shy when it comes to showing my handmade stuff. I'm pretty content making handmade stuff right now and although it will never fully replace drawing, it right now is just what I more want to do. Putting something down that I enjoy to force myself to do something I've grown to hate sucks. It sucks. I want to have fun again and to enjoy what I do and I'm not getting that from art anymore. I'm just not. I know there's something still there, but if I continue on like this I'm going to kill it forever. I have no inspiration, I have no motivation, I have no reason, I have nothing in me other than a desperation. I've grown up my entire life thinking you have to draw fast, you have to draw every day, you have to draw a lot every day, and look where that's gotten me. I'm worse off for it and I've lost something I've held so dearly to me. I have to slow down, I have to re-evaluate things. I hope that by slowing down and not forcing myself to draw 24/7, it will help me in the long run. I've gone on too long forcing myself to continue drawing when I just don't want to, and I have to stop and take a hard look at all of this. There's nothing in these past few years art wise that I'm even mildly proud of, and barely anything that I put any work or effort into. I have nothing to show for all of these years that I've been desperately struggling through so what's the point of continuing on like this? There isn't, my art has suffered greatly and I'm never going to get where I want to be with art if I continue down this path. Of course, art will not stop coming in (still largely in part because I'm struggling to not still push on like I have been all this time), but it's not going to be as much art as before because I have to slow down already... TL;DRI've started picking up my pencil in the crochet hook position and I think I understand what that means.

[togreblog]

Nessian - Part 4

So this has turned into a collab with @cataclysimic-star

she wrote a post which we consider Part one

I responded to her post with Part two

Within an hour we had Part three

(Part 5)

Nesta POV  (1930 words)

We had been training for weeks, Feyre wasn’t back, but in every other aspect, life had changed. My combat skills had advanced greatly under Cassian’s careful training, but not nearly as far as my magical abilities. As Rhys had thought  when I had first asked him about my magic, the power had been evolving as I had learned to control it - beginning by understanding the magic of the elements as Feyre had, then moving to Tamlin and Rhys’s and Cassian’s magic, only imitating the darkness, but to such perfect likeness, that I may as well have been the High Lady of the Night Court. The darkness was only an imitation though. The power I had been given could be fashioned in any which way I pleased. I used it like the demati, a gift that did not usually stem from magic, but from ones naturally gifting, but yet I could push this raw magic, not of the courts like Feyre’s, into someone’s mind and create a tunnel through which I could hear and see and delve into the minds of others. The mental shields that I had initially build had been the same as those any fae might construct, but now the walls were fashioned not of my own strength, but of the cauldron's magic that even the most powerful high lord to ever reign, could not break through.

Mor hadn’t changed much, other than her initial suspicion of us lifting to reveal an annoyingly cheerful soul underneath. Even in the midst of the war, she greeted me each morning and smiled when I agreed to let her help me with something… anything.

Elain was more quiet than usual, reclusive even. Rhys had tried explaining to me that if Lucien had felt the mate bond click into place and told Elain, then she would be able to feel the bond and therefore feel him at the end of it. We had tried learning basic shielding, from Rhys but neither of us had had much success. I knew that though she was quiet, his voice in her head was probably deafeningly loud. As much as it pained me, after a while we all just accepted that the best thing for her was to learn to block him out so that the voices would stop and so that she could say and hear things without them going directly to the right hand of the spring court.

Azriel hadn’t woken up for the first few days, so for him to be walking around was probably the biggest change in any of us. Although Cassian had only stayed in bed reluctantly until his wings were healed enough to not physically pain him, or enough for him to hide it if I had learned anything about the Illyrian in these last few weeks. I think that's why Rhys set him to train me, it was a job that needed doing and it wasn’t as strenuous as the training at the camps. He was changing too, the number of bandages on his wings reducing a little in the last week as the magically aided membranes knit themselves back together in a beautiful tapestry of scars. The more black started to show through, the less he looked like an angel, but the more time I spent training with him, the more I thought he was.

Which brought us to today. Cassian, shirtless on the roof. Me using my magic to cool us down. My skin tingling every time I punched him, just because of the contact. And Rhys planning a war from an office in a townhouse in a village that apparently didn’t exist. 

The lesson was over before I was ready to relinquish the opportunity to touch Cassian’s beautiful torso, but I didn’t say anything. I had never let anyone in when I was a human and I wasn’t about to start by swooning over some faerie, even if he was strong and fairly… ok really good looking and the biggest flirt I had ever met. My thoughts were interrupted by his beautiful deep voice calling out to me, “Hey, Sweetheart, we need to talk about tomorrow. No lessons sorry.” I cursed my heart as it sank at his words and fought to keep the frown off of my face, instead commenting on the possibilities of the day I could now spend as I pleased. 

“Wait, Cassian, why aren’t we having lessons?” Trying to hide the disdain in airiness and curiosity.

“Rhys has finally realised that he cannot win this war without me and is sending me… somewhere.” He stressed the last word and gave me a pointed look, clearly overjoyed at being allowed to resume his secretive work in the inner circle. 

“So take me with you.” I shrugged casually as he paused, assessing me, trying to gauge my motives. The look fell from his face leaving it blank and expressionless in a strangely beautiful, yet slightly sinister manner and he walked straight past me and down the stairs into the house. I gave a mental huff and scalded myself. “Nesta, you finally have a day off. Your muscles constantly ache as it is, use the day to rest.” I quickly made up my mind about what to do tomorrow, then marched right into Rhys’ office. “Is my training coming along well?” I pleaded with urgency. 

He raised his eyes to me slowly and replied hesitantly, “yes, I believe it is. Cassian tells me that he still can’t feel your punches through his leathers, but you are extremely fast with any form of weapon and have learnt to form them from your magic so you will never need hand-to-hand combat skills anyway.”

“Am I a trusted member of your court?” I paused long enough for him to think I had finished talking, the realisation of where this was going had been evident on his face and after considering his answer for a minute, he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut off his reply. “I know enough about your plans to destroy you so clearly you trust me.” Not a question this time, if I wanted to… persuade him to my way of thinking, I needed the upper hand. “I eat your food, I live in your house. I am clearly on your side in this war and have agreed to fight for my sister which means I fight for you.” 

“Nesta, did you speak to Cassian about this? Ultimately, I believe that you are the sort of person we need representing the Night Court. This is a war, you are strong and will show our allies and enemies alike what the King of Hybern is doing, and the power that we now hold, but I’m not the one you would be travelling with so it’s up to him, but I will tell him that he has my permission to give you any sensitive information, if he wants you to come that is." I smirked at Rhys and he groaned knowing that he had just given me the ammunition I needed to go against his own brother. 

When I left, Cassian was waiting outside, was I really that predictable? 

"I heard. THANKS A LOT, RHYS." He shouted to his brother before turning to walk away, out of earshot no doubt and pausing for me to follow. "So? Now that's it's your choice, do you want me to come with you or not?" 

His cocky, flirty facade faltered. He was stuck between being the strong warrior who went on secret and lonesome missions for the most powerful person in the universe and the opportunity to spend a weekend with me. I dared a step closer, how ever beautiful he and his muscles looked, basked in the morning sunlight on the roof, I hadn’t encouraged his affections, in fact, I had actively tried to discourage them on numerous occasions. My last relationship with Tomas hadn’t gone exactly to plan and the stories I heard from Mor did not exactly paint him as the kind of guy who wants a lasting relationship, which, in my new immortal body, could potentially be a very long lasting relationship. However, if brushing against him and looking up at him was going to allow me the chance to help the night court and my sister, then screw him and his flirting, I was going to use his own arrogance against him.

“Come on Cass.” I let my body brush against his, just as it had at my house in the mortal realm, but now taller, leaner and wrapped in leathers, I didn’t have to push so close and stretch up on my tip toes to reach his face. This time, though, I leant to the side and spoke over his shoulder, “you taught me, your teaching has prepared me, let me help save my sisters as you would want to do for your brothers. Do you still doubt my skills after I got you into this very vulnerable position?" With that, the memory of the moment I had recreated hit him with as much force as I had and he withdrew, not far enough that I couldn't still get him, but to allow him to anticipate my moves and stop me if I did. I gave him a smirk, "you're going to need my skills. After all, this is the only court with a High Lady and I have a small feeling that my charms will work better than yours, also my magic is stronger and I am clearly just more of a delight. Surely with a resume like that, you can't turn me down? What time do we leave?" I gave him another smile. This one not cocky, but sweet, turning a little bit pleading, then sad, ending with puppy dog eyes. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine, but if your coming, you may as well winnow us, your magical imitations of wings aren't perfect and your flying isn't good enough. As much as I would cherish the feeling of you pressed up against me for a day, it's a bit far and as you said I may as well make use of your... charms, strength, magic and... delightfulness." He said the last word with too much of a gleam in his eye, but at least he was letting me come. I smiled at him, trying not to replicate his glint, "time?" I instead asked impatiently.

"9, on the roof."

We nodded, and I let my own facade slip, showing him the pure elation I felt at the opportunity to finally be useful. But only for a second before quickly turning away with my head held high. It was only after I got back to by room and stood in the hot showers, relaxing my tight muscles after today's training, ready for tomorrow's adventures, that I realised I had forgotten to ask where we were going and what we were doing. Unfortunately, I had a feeling Cassian was laughing to himself about the impression I had clearly been under about some glamorous visit to another court. Even so, I hoped I wasn't wrong but was already planning to put clothed for any court and any scenario into various shadow realms Rhys had taught me to use, lest I be surprised by Cassian's "trip."