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#my nebula blanket is on a temporary hold and can only be worked on at night
jedi-bird · 2 years
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Behold, my most ambitious crochet project yet. My partner loves Blue from Jurassic World, so since I've been eyeing some dinosaur patterns, I decided to try and make them one for our anniversary. Both arms are currently done; the first one took most of the morning and involved many restarts until the pattern finally clicked (this is pretty common for me unfortunately). Wire will be added to the claws and arms later to make her posable. Fingers crossed I can finish this in time.
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oh-theatre · 4 years
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Please tell me the angst?? OwO
:DDDD IT SAD BUT :DDD
Do I trigger warning this? Imma do it
ok so it’s also like a fully fledged au but leaf me alone
Tw: Sleep paralysis, hauntings and haunted, sensitivities,, blood, scary stuff, demons
(Loosely based on the Haunting of Hill House with my own interpretation)
Ok ok so Remy and Emile are a married couple, and they work on renovating houses and selling them!
They have six kiddos! Damian is the oldest (15), then it’s Virgil (13), then Logan (9), then Patton (7), then twins Roman and Remus (5)
One day they move into this house, it’s a little out of the city, and more in the country.
It seems normal at first, the house, though old, doesn’t seem unusual. Remy and Emile set up the kids in the room. Patton and Logan room together, the twins together, Damian gets his own room and same with Virgil
The day starts okay. But slowly things become unusual. Remy and Emile find themselves having a normal night. And so do the children, for the first night, except Damian
Damian, after saying goodnight to his siblings and parents, settled into his temporary room. Snuggled up with some sewing devices as he creates some clothes. He gets a little exhausted and accidentally pricks his finger. So going to the bathroom to clean it off, he touches the light. A quick shock but nothing unusual, until he returns to his bed to find two hours have passed. Chalking it up to exhaustion Damian goes to bed. 
Everythings fine until breakfast, when he reaches for a cup and the world falls away. The noise of the morning, his siblings, everything has gone. He feels the history of the cup, from when it was made from when it was placed into the house, to dust away on a shelf, to now as it clatters from Damian’s scared hands. He wears gloves now. 
Virgil, though skeptical, feels the strange premonition just the same. Finding himself in Damian’s room scared most nights. However one night he tries his hardest to fall asleep in his own room, using his methods to calm himself. He wakes up at three am, on the dot. He watches as the room grows darker until he isn’t in bed. But sitting alone in the middle of the floor, red eyes flashing around him. He screams until his voice is hoarse, somehow ending up wrapped between his parent’s arms. 
The next night, and the night after that, the same thing continues. The figures become more and more prominent, however, taking physical shape. On the seventh night, Virgil can see each distinct figure, too scared to scream he simply pushes away but this time, the darkness moves away with him. And through the next nights, he works quietly finding he can control… the dark..and the figures?
Though both his older siblings have expressed their concerns, Logan doesn’t believe in their myths. Only finding annoyance as Patton fears what his siblings have warned him about. So for the nights he works with Patton, calming down his brother, seeing as they share a room. Once Patton is calm, they fall asleep. However, Logan awakes easily as a gentle tapping takes place outside his door. He reads for awhile before the noise grows too much for his soft ears
He places his glasses on, tiptoeing with a shaky breath to the hall, creaking the old door open. His breath seizing as a hovering figure taps across the hall, facing away from the young boy. As it seems to turn towards him he rushes to his bed, shutting his eyes closed to put up a facade. He listens only as the door opens once more. He can feel the figure move around the room, tapping as it simply floats. Moving to Patton first then towards Logan. Holding his breath, the little one tries his best to appear asleep. Once the room grows quiet, and the taps fade, he exhales. A moment too soon, no face yet his screams are heard. 
He tells not what occurred that night to anyone but Patton, his little brother trying his hardest to comfort him. Even with his own hands shaking. As he goes to hug Logan, the be-speckled boy finds himself whisked away, the dark space becoming a bright nebula. Logan floats through, his pajamas flowing with him. He scream in his loneliness until he returns to his bed, sobbing silently into his brother. Confused, and no longer intrigued but terrified. 
After the many occurrences, and the restless nights he spend trying to comfort his siblings Patton collapses exhausted in his bed. Scared of what might come, loud winds outside awake him. The heavy shattering rain, and the cracks of thunder terrify the timid boy. Alas he cannot seek safety in the arms of his parents or brother, he cant move. He remains frozen in his cold bed. His blurred vision frets around the room, until a confusing image his blue eyes set upon. Something standing over his bed, nothing looking back. He whimpers, wanting more to escape. But nothing as he simply watches. 
Finally after what seems like an eternity, he closes his fists tight screaming through the house. Rushed his parents come to home, an already alert Logan by his bed. Once the night calms once more, they assume the incident wont occur again. Yet for consecutive nights, Patton remains frozen with fear as something watches him. And he cant do anything. Though his nights are restless, his day seem normal. Seem being the unfortunate keyword, as things only grow louder and more present, an everlasting headache for the young one. 
The twins find nothing wrong, playing delightfully through the giant house, clearly full of stories. They stay side by side, enjoying their nights (the non-screamed filled ones of course) and exciting days. Even through their small concern fro their siblings, and confusion to the worries of their parents. They seem to enjoy the house and their lives nonetheless. That is until… 
The boys settle in for a late night after spending too much time creating a world through their house. The decide to rest after a final warning from their exhausted fathers. Everything appears fine, the house calm even with the storms outside. A sudden crash awaking everyone, including the young boys. They heave themselves out of bed, grabbing their stuffed animals and blankets, following the noise to the main foyer. There they meet their family, but the noise only grows louder. Quickly Remy rushes upstairs checking through the house, things continue crashing and blowing. Another loud crash and the twins and Logan scatter to Emile, finding safety in his hold. Patton offers to make some tea, his two older brothers advising they join him.  
Another crash and the kids come back, scared to venture into the house any further. Remy returns and everyone is thrown in separate directions as a chandelier comes crashing down. The twins call out, tears in their eyes, for their parents. The others gather. But when Damian looks, he cant see his siblings anywhere. The family, in a panic, calls out for them. The twins grasp to each other, desperate confusion as their families walk past them. After hours, Emile spots them where he left them. Scooping them up, overwhelming relief as hes joined by the rest of the family. Once everything is settled, and the morning breaks. They set to work cleaning the remnants of the night. And soon everything returns to normal, well as normal as can be with so many deep secrets, 
The twins continue their games however, finding their routines return easily. Hide and seek becomes harder, especially as Remus trips through the wall appearing on the other side. And Roman finds if he wills hard enough, no one can see him. 
Nothing unusual about more fun, so the twins keep their secrets. One night, as they wander through, playing their sneaky games, they listen to soft struggles of fear. Creaking into their brother Virgils room, they find him stifling scared sobs. It appears he cant see them, even as they join him on either side. Hugging him sweetly. They shut their eyes, imaging the field outside, under the cherry blossom, where they imagine playing with Virgil, hosting tea parties. Soon enough it stops, and the room feels at ease. Virgil laughs, expressing his enjoyment for their idea, yet no words spoken?
PLEASE ASK ME PLEASE PLEASE
OK OK SO I HAVE ALOT MORE FOR THIS BUT I DONT WANNA BOTHER YALL SO IF YOU WANT MORE LET ME KNOW!! AND IF I TAGGED THIS WRONG ALSO LET ME KNOW!! BUT YES THIS IS AN AU NOW
SORRY IT SUCKS
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lajulie24 · 5 years
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And you will always find me
Part 6 in my Bespin AU/ESB AU series where Han and Leia escape Bespin before Breakfast with Vader. You can read the other parts here: Part 1: I know, Part 2: Jump, Part 3: Visions of the future, Part 4: Decisions, Part 5: Hear me.
“I know where Luke is. We have to go back.”
Leia had that look about her again. Her brown eyes determined, sure, her voice calm yet decisive. She got that look on missions sometimes, and when she did, Han knew instinctively to just go with whatever came next, even if it was a move that sounded absolutely insane even to a gambler like him.
To be fair, she had trusted him on a number of rather dicey-sounding plans, too, the most recent of which had included flying into an asteroid field, buzzing a Star Destroyer from attack position, and stopping for repairs at a mining outpost managed by his ex-boyfriend, with whom he hadn’t spoken in years. And, of course, there was the whole getting involved in an actual relationship thing, though that felt like less of a plan and more of a crashing inevitability.
Her preoccupation with Luke earlier in the day had started him worrying about the Kid, too, he had to admit.
So I guess we’re doin’ this. But Han needed a little more information.
“Back where?” he asked.
“The Nebula,” she said. “I don’t know why he’d be there, but I just—I think he’s in trouble.”
Han nodded. He wasn’t sure when he’d become the guy who put aside logic for trust, but if there was one thing he believed in, it was her. “All right. Let me tell Chewie.”
It was funny, the things that would come into your head as you sat there, drifting through space. Luke idly wondered whether it was some version of your life flashing before your eyes before you died. Only instead of flashing, it was floating. Languid, impossibly slow.
It wasn’t exactly a highlight reel, either, but more a collage of some little things he’d nearly forgotten. The swishing noise Aunt Beru’s skirts would make when she came to tuck him in at night. Uncle Owen’s gentle encouragement peeking through his gruff exterior, teaching Luke to drive a landspeeder. Biggs’ laugh. The way Wedge’s accent changed when he was angry, or amused, or drunk. The spices in Chewie’s favorite stew. The little tunes Han would whistle sometimes as he was doing repairs, the tone of his voice when he called Luke “Kid” for the thousandth time. The furrow of Leia’s brow as she read, and the way her face would change when Luke said her name or Chewie brought her a cup of tea or Han greeted her with that grin of his.
Luke still attempted to restart the engine every few hours, just in case. R2 had isolated the problem to two possibilities, one of which was a temporary issue that could potentially resolve itself, and the other of which required parts they did not have available to them at the moment. It seemed the latter was more likely.
He hadn’t given up; far from it, in fact. He was beginning to understand what “there is no try” actually meant; it didn’t mean you never attempted anything, never acted, just blindly accepted your fate. It meant that if you were going to trust the Force, you had to actually jump in with both feet and trust it fully, not claim to trust it while making a plan in case it didn’t work. (Which meant, for instance, not bringing your weapons with you into a mystical cave to face the Dark Side.)
Did it always make logical sense? Of course not. But it didn’t make logical sense to go marching into the detention area to rescue someone slated for execution when you were carrying stolen plans, or to turn off your targeting computer just as you got in firing range of a deadly space station, or to go AWOL and take off to a strange planet based on a vision you had when you were half frozen to death, either.
He remembered something Uncle Owen used to say, about how fear was a gift, that it was telling you something, and woe to you if you didn’t listen. Useful as far as avoiding raiders and staying alive in the Tatooine desert went, sure. But for life advice, Luke had always chalked it up as another example of Owen letting fear circumscribe his life, using it as an excuse never to try anything or do anything.
Maybe Luke had been wrong about that, though; maybe it meant something more. Maybe listening to the Force was like listening to your fear, learning from what it had to say. And what it had to say wasn’t always don’t act, stay safe, keep your head down, protect yourself at all costs but to act with intention. To trust what was in your gut, your heart. Luke wasn’t sure how, but he still believed in his heart that leaving Dagobah had been the right thing to do.
And now, the Force had guided him to reach out to Leia, and he knew that she had heard him and would find a way to help him. He would do everything he could to give them plenty of time to get here—preserve his oxygen, shut down except for the emergency systems—but he would trust in the Force, and in his friends.
Chewbacca’s family had been surprisingly supportive of their abrupt departure, and even though both Han and Leia had tried to convince Chewie to stay behind and visit some more, he had insisted on coming.
“But Chewie, your family—“ Leia had made one last attempt at the landing pad before their departure.
[Little Princess.] Chewie’s growl had been as gentle as she’d ever heard. [The Little Jedi needs our help. And I have to protect Cub and you, now. My debt is to you both.]
There had been two surprises in that statement: that Chewie had accepted her conviction that Luke was in trouble without question, and that he seemed to be saying something about his life debt. “To us? But—“
[You are Cub’s mate,] Chewie had said simply. [You share his debt. I do not make the rules.]
“Chewie,” she’d said softly, but he’d just ruffled her hair again and turned to bid farewell to Malla before running up the ramp of the Falcon.
They were coming out of hyperspace near the Nebula now, and Leia just hoped they were right to have believed in her. It was hard to tear her eyes away from the viewscreen—they’d managed to jump into the tail end of an electrical storm, which was making things even more exciting than usual, and had Threepio in a conniption fit—but she closed her eyes, hoping to hear the voice she’d heard before.
Luke, where are you?
The reply was faint, but it was there. Leia?
“All right, Sweetheart, where to?” Han was asking. Leia opened her eyes.
“Set 392,” Leia heard herself saying, and Chewie put it in. The cockpit grew quiet, with the exception of an occasional “oh dear oh dear” from Threepio, and they all watched intently.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Han said softly. The cloud of particles surrounding them made it difficult to see at first, but the distinctive shape of an X-wing began to emerge. The engines didn’t appear to be engaged; it looked like it was just floating there. Leia held her breath as Han hailed the ship. “Kid? You okay there?”
The pause felt like forever, but Leia anticipated the answer a split second before it came. “Han? Am I glad to hear you! Where’s Leia?”
“I’m here,” Leia said, relief washing over her.
Han looked a little amused at Luke’s response. “What, I’m not good enough for you now? Ah, I see how it is.”
“Got a stalled engine,” Luke said, and suddenly Leia noticed how exhausted and wan his voice sounded. “R2 and I have been stuck here for a while.”
“Artoo!” Threepio exclaimed with happiness.
“All right, Kid. We’ll get you and the droid into the airlock, tow the ship back with us. Don’t want to stick around here any longer than we have to.”
“Thanks, Han.”
“Three, Kid. Three now you owe me.” Han sounded like the breezy, wisecracking version of himself that he’d been on Hoth, but Leia could tell that he was just as relieved as she was to hear Luke’s voice.
Luke’s laughter sounded a little weak, too, but it was good to hear it coming across the comm.
Chewie went back to take care of the airlock, and Han turned to Leia, his eyes tinged with a little bit of awe. “Min larel,” he said, “you are somethin’ else.”
As soon as the X-wing was secured, Han and Chewie returned to the cockpit, so Leia was left to tend to Luke in the medical bunk.
“Wait here,” she said, after getting him settled with a blanket and some intravenous fluids. “Be right back.”
She reappeared a few minutes later with a steaming cup of broth and a sleeve of crackers, and handed him the cup before sitting down beside him. As he sipped, she smoothed some of the hair away from his face, watching him with obvious concern.
Luke could hardly believe she was real, that he was here on the Falcon, that she and Han (and Chewie, and Threepio) were okay, but the broth helped ground him to the present.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much,” he said, taking another sip. “It’s good.”
She smiled, and her presence exuded warmth. “I can’t take credit; Chewie made it,” she said. “I just heated it up.”
Interesting. Something about Leia was distinctly different. Besides the obvious, of course—
“You changed your hair,” Luke blurted out. Nice, Luke. Apparently being sleep- and nutrient-deprived had removed his ability to hold a normal conversation.
But Leia didn’t seem bothered; she smiled again and pulled one section of long brown waves over her shoulder, so that her hair fell down her back. “We were on Kashyyk,” she said. “I was feeling a little…hairless.”
He chuckled a little at that. “I guess you would,” he said. “Um, how did you end up—“
“On the Falcon?” she finished. Now it was her turn to chuckle. “I missed my transport on Hoth. And the hyperdrive broke, and—”
Suddenly Luke understood. He’d barely seen any interaction between Han and Leia at all yet, but he could see it in her face, feel it in her presence. He turned toward her, unable to conceal the knowing smile on his face. “You and Han—“
Leia’s face lit up with that unguarded smile, the one Luke had only seen once in a great while. He suspected it had become a lot less rare recently. “Me and Han. Yeah,” she confirmed, and then looked a little apologetic for a moment. “Luke, I’m—“
“No, no, it’s great,” he assured her, grinning. “It’s—I’m really happy for you guys.”
“I love him,” she said, and it would have sounded like a confession if she hadn’t been radiating with so much happiness. Apparently once that smile made it to her face, it had trouble leaving.
“Yeah, you do,” Luke said. “Ah, Chewie must be so relieved!” Han and Leia’s love for each other had been obvious, inspiring, yet maddening to their closest friends. It was amazing, the lengths to which they had gone in their misguided attempts to protect each other from pain by staying apart, only to end up hurting each other anyway.
“Chewie was probably about five minutes from throwing us out the airlock before we went to Kashyyk,” Leia said dryly. “He spent six weeks trapped in sublight with us while we, ah, figured things out.”
Luke laughed. Was that a blush on Leia’s cheeks? He was pretty sure he’d never seen that from her before. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d had an eventful few weeks.
Gods, but it felt good to be back with his friends. He accepted a cracker from the sleeve Leia was holding, chased it with another few sips of broth.
Leia slipped an arm around him, gave him a bit of a squeeze. This was like it used to be, when they would have their long talks, spend time just hanging out together between missions, or on the down time during missions.
Han was leaving to pay off Jabba, Luke remembered. Han and Leia had managed to figure out the love thing, obviously, but he wondered how much they had managed to figure out about what to do about the main thing that had been keeping them apart. If they were on Kashyyk before this, maybe—
“So—“ Luke began.
Leia’s face grew a bit more serious again, determined. “We’re figuring it out. Coming up with a plan. I’m not letting him face Jabba alone.”
At least they were talking about it. But they hadn’t quite figured it out yet, it seemed. Understandable. Tough, but understandable.
Luke didn’t say anything, but took Leia’s hand and squeezed it. They were quiet for a few minutes.
Maybe now was not the best time to bring up the other big thing. But he wanted to talk about it with just Leia, first, so this was as good a time as any. And he’d finished the broth.
He put the cup down on the table beside the bunk. “Ah, Leia?”
She looked at him, her brown eyes huge. Her hand was still in his.
“Do you know how you found me?”
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