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solerey · 5 years ago

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Some initial TROS thoughts, unpolished and rambling. Feel free to come chatter.

So...”Rey Palpatine” is kind of stupid, but also kind of the best option that they had available to them short of just...doing to TLJ the same thing that TLJ did to TFA and just kicking it apart and tossing the pieces out the window. And I guess JJ and the other folks working on this movie weren’t that level of asshole, okay.

How the hell does Poe being a spice smuggler fit his backstory? Was it a Resistance mission and he didn’t want to spill those beans in front of everybody mid-mission? Because seriously, how the hell is that supposed to fit even time-wise into the history we’ve been given, let alone personality-wise? Was JJ just trying real hard to make Poe “this movie’s Han” or something? Because I hate to break it to him but Poe is the new trio’s Leia and he’s the one who established that fact so he really should have remembered it okay. I mean...at least we do have the canon of Han Solo being a spice smuggler, so we can kind of say it’s not as bad of a Bad Racist Stereotype as it would be to pull the equivalent shit in our world...but at the same time, smuggling space under the Empire is rather different from smuggling spice under the New Republic, which is not a horrible totalitarian government...and for that matter, Poe had nice loving parents and a good childhood, unlike Han, so how the hell did he even end up starting that in the first place? It must have been some kind of undercover mission. It must have. Nothing else makes sense.

OH GODS THAT KISS ASJLK:SGOIWEUGHUAKBN:KNSFN WHYYYYY. I legit let out a noise of involuntary disgust and horror that was some kind of scream-turned-into-a-gurgle that I really, really wish I could duplicate but I don’t even know how I got my throat to issue that sound omg. Made half the theater giggle though whoops. Thank every power in the ‘verse that he died then, at least; if Kylo Ren had not only gotten a “redemption arc” but also lived I don’t know that I could have stomached it...

P.S. “I realized that I’ve been a complete monster and have murdered tons and tons of people for bad reasons and now I feel bad about it, so I’m going to go kill some of my old allies now and then give my lifeforce to someone who’s actually a Good Person so they can survive in my place and improve the galaxy in ways that my shitty whiny evil ass never could” is not the kind of “redemption arc“ that actually turns someone into a good person. Just like with Darth Vader, none of the horrible deeds that Kylo Ren did were erased by the fact that he had a last-minute epiphany and actually killed a few of the right people at the end. He is still a villain -- still a mass-murdering monster. He just managed to do one right thing before he died. He is not Zuko. But gosh, am I looking forward to watching the fandom elevate him to Character Sainthood for that. What is it with people and their inability to enjoy a villain without painting him as some Innocent Woobie? In my day, we could look at our Magnetos and our Doctor Dooms and say “oh yes he’s such an interesting character, I love reading about him, definitely a favorite!” without also convincing ourselves that he was a Good Person who Never Did Anything Wrong Ever...I say, grumbling, from my rocker on the porch of The Fandom Elders.

He’s worse than Kyp Duron and tbh I think Kyp Duron should have gone to jail.

Anyway...I kind of hated the Han scene? And not just because it was part of the “absolve Kylo Ren’s horrific crimes” subplot, but because it just didn’t make sense.

SPEAKING OF...what the hell was up with the “we can teleport objects across massive distances with the Force” nonsense? And people were upset that Leia used the Force to pull herself through vacuum okaaaaay...

Oh Leia. Oh Carrie. At least we got something. Thank you. Thank you to everyone who gave us that; to everyone who salvaged that. Thank you.

Also I really really wish that someone writing for the New Canon would go back to watch the first movie and figure out how hyperspace works. Ughhhh...

Not a lot of Rose in this movie, alas -- I guess she was “the Lando” of the films, huh? Shows up in the second movie and is awesome (really the only good thing to come out of TLJ wasn’t she?) but then gets pulled back to supporting-character role in the third... Hopefully the new expanded universe will do a better job of keeping her around and engaged in the further stories than the original EU did with Lando!

Even less Connix, which is sad. I wonder if it was hard for her, coming back to Star Wars without her mom? Oh Carrie. My princess eternal.

What was the point of the new droid? Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t annoyed by it or anything -- I just didn’t get what he was actually there for? Whatever.

THANK THE FUCKING FORCE THEY DIDN’T KILL CHEWBACCA. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO EVAPORATE RIGHT OUT OF MY SEAT WHEN THAT SHIP BLEW UP.

So I’m guessing “Junior” is a baby Ackbar, right? Too bad they didn’t go with Jesmin.

WEDGE. WEDGE. WEDGE. WEDGE ANTILLES!!!!

Thank the Force they didn’t kill Wedge, either. (They didn’t, right? I mean, I was watching, but things were kind of chaotic, and I only found out that they’d killed Ackbar in TLJ because they fucking said it afterward, since there had been nothing to indicate he was there before that...but they wouldn’t kill The Survivor, RIGHT?)

Oh man it was so nice to see Lando. I kind of wish he’d been in it more, but at the same time, the bits he was in were so perfect. I hope we get a book about him helping Jannah and the other former stormtroopers tracing their origins.

So real disappointing that we didn’t get to see Finn inspiring any stormtroopers to defect, huh? When they got surrounded on the Star Destroyer, I was so hoping that the stormies were going to suddenly recognize him and lower their blasters...SIGH.

Still, at least Finn is going to be Rey’s first New Jedi Student now, right? Right?

I did really like the group of defecting stormtroopers in general, though. That was excellent. They make me want to actually read a New Canon book although it’s a shame Aaron Allston isn’t here to write one about them because his style would be a kickass fit for that story, wouldn’t it? Whoever they get, I hope someone writes it.

I’m still torn on whether or not I like that it was Luke who lifted the X-Wing out. I do know that I don’t like the Force Ghosts Can Interact Tangibly With The World idea.

JEDISTORMPILOT hug at the end? HELL YES. That is the only ship I want to see in this movie. Okay no that’s a lie I would have also been delighted with Finn/Poe and happy with Finn/Rey but since they didn’t want to give us anything more than bait-and-switch bullshit in this trilogy, I will just sit back and be thrilled by the lack of (likely heteronormative) Mono Ship Resolution and enjoy the fact that the closest we come to actual canon is this charming polyship. Even though all these of these characters deserved BETTER than the weird quasi-love triangle/whatever the fuck was going on there...and we’re not talking about the kiss again ever yuck.

I really wish they hadn’t opened Zorii Bliss’s helmet. UGH.

Speaking of: disappointed that Phasma didn’t come back again lol. Could have gotten her ass kicked again by Finn...only better this time, like the deleted version.

Also why are all of the main characters humans? Come on man...the Resistance is not the Empire (or the First Order, or Final Order, or whatever they’re calling themselves; it’s just a fresh coat of paint on the same old xenophobia). There should be way more non-humans in the ensemble scenes...and a few more aliens as full characters. Someday we’re going to get someone who actually understands the world building of this universe to write a SW movie... You couldn’t even paint Zorii Bliss a different color? Ugh. All we really got was Chewie and a few background extras/jokes/one-liners...and Chewie was pretty underutilized too, imo.

SPEAKING OF, WHY WASN’T THIS MOVIE DEDICATED TO PETER MAYHEW?

#star wars spoilers #tros spoilers #rise of skywalker spoilers #sw spoilers #spoilers #ooc ramblings #sw tlj criticism #sw tlj #sw tros #jj abrms salt #tlj criticism

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junietwohundred · 5 years ago

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Dev Diary: Writing is ineffable, in that I can’t be effed to do it

Another weekly report from Bee Foundry Games, where nothing goes as planned and the code doesn’t matter.

Last week’s goals:

More writing. That’s easy to do in the early mornings, and there’s a lot of it to do.

How do I make characters join and leave a party? I want Aziraphale to stick to Crowley like glue…but only sometimes. I think there’s a “follow” script later in the tutorial, so…

Finish repeating the tutorial. Pay attention to follow scripts.

Bentley: how do? Is it a more advanced version of the party? Is it just demonic magic? I don’t know!

So, how did that go?

1) Nope. I’m feeling drained and listless and I can’t make myself write descriptions even when it’s 7 a.m. and there won’t be anyone else in the office for another three hours. (Tech companies, bless.)

2) Figured it out. It’s not fancy, and it’s not in the tutorial, but I can add and drop a character to a followers list and they’ll follow the POV character wherever you go. In my experiment, Crowley can’t leave the Plant Room without Aziraphale saying “I think I’ll come with you,” and then hanging out with him forever. I think the plants creep him out.

3) Finished the tutorial (which has no follow scripts) again. It drove home how familiar I’ve become with some of the functions of Quest, because even with mucking around in the code on my own, it took me half as much time to finish as when I first did it.

4) Oh heavens. I wrote a “drive” verb for the Bentley object that moves the Bentley and the POV character (as well as whoever is following them) to the desired destination. It even prints a message tailored to whether it’s Crowley or Aziraphale alone, or both of them, getting into the car. It asks you which direction you want to drive and moves you there. But it doesn’t actually put you in the Bentley, so wherever you go next, you see the Bentley as though you were standing next to it, and saying “go SW” will take you southwest without the Bentley. If I make the Bentley an object that can contain other objects, I can make the “drive” script put the characters in the car, but now the exits that were accessible from outside are inaccessible, because you’re sitting in an antique car-shaped box. God hates me.

Also, there’s a bug where if you’re leaving Mayfair in the Bentley for the first time, saying “east” (Soho) or “southeast” (St. James’s Park) will both take you to Soho. I’ve figured out that it’s because the way I’m interpreting user input will take any input with an “e” in to mean “go to Soho,” but I don’t know another way to handle the user input, and did I mention that this only happens the first time you leave Mayfair? If you go west from Soho back to Mayfair, saying “southeast” will take you to St. James’s Park. Either the drive script stops working after the first move and the characters are on foot without my realizing it when they get back to Mayfair, or something is seriously screwy.

Real talk: I’m a software QA in my regular job. I pick apart programs other people make and say, “This is what I did, and this is what happened. Make it so doing those things doesn’t make that happen and makes this happen instead.” And then I give the code back, and the developers make everything better. Except there are no developers on this project - there’s just me, fucking up the game in mysterious ways.

I did learn some things this week:

I learned how to make the game perform an action every certain number of turns. If I want Hastur to pop in and steal your ice cream ever five turns, I can do that. (I don’t want that, btw. You deserve your ice cream.) My next step is figuring out how to make my understanding of “turn” mesh with what the program is doing, because I think it’s every time you enter a command, and it thinks it’s every time you move. There’s even documentation to back up that I’m right. And yet.

I asked on the Quest forums, and someone helped me write a function (read: wrote a function for me) that allows me to make room and item descriptions dynamic, depending upon which actions have been performed or, say, which items have been removed from a tabletop.

I hate lists with only two items, don’t you?

So, what’s the plan for this next week?

Write descriptions and flavor text. There’s no excuse not to; I’m just being lazy now.

Make the Bentley work like a car and not like a thing you’re toting around.

Fix the SE/E problem.

Annotate my game outline with what conditions must be set for the player to continue.

I’m trying to stay small this week; I had a disheartening afternoon of work on the game today and I’m feeling pretty low overall, so I don’t want to burn out.

Until next week!

#GOdevdiary #interactive fiction #text adventures #good omens #bee foundry games

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blurrymango · 5 years ago

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Chapter One

The air was salty and chilled, a sign that it was finally the beginning of fall. PoisonBerry clutched the journey in bony hands. There was something strange about this day, something overwhelming that loomed over the vessel of the ship like a cloud. The net that had been cast in the water came back up slowly. The crew watched with anticipation as it breached the surface. What they had pulled up was not fish nor treasure, but a body. With long brown hair and scarring burns covering what surface wasn’t covered in decay. The raven-haired girl felt to her sick to her stomach at the scene before, the nauseating smell and sight quickly overtook her, her body unable to handle it as she passed out.

Maybe in another timeline he would have cared, but by the sticky-notes she had covered the pages of his book with, it was obvious she had no idea who he was, no respect for the grave in which his thoughts at. And in the pale moonlight that shined through the small window on the wall, he realized that, as well as having no respect for him, she had no respect for herself either. Greasy and unkept short black hair mocked anyone who knew her. She used to take pride in herself, inner and outer. Those once delicate and slender hands that could make or break beautiful creations were now callused and shaky. He looked away, not wanting to see her in that state any longer.

Whoever had shared this before had long since left, as he hoped he would as well. He would have thrown on whatever of the person’s clothes fit comfortably, though with his stature he was reduced to choosing whatever wouldn’t slide off his awkward body. He absentmindedly wondered how easily he would be able to get his muscle and fat back up, knowing that until his skin wasn’t trying to heal itself over layers of decay he wouldn’t be able go back on testosterone. He sneered at the thought, grabbing an empty satchel and putting his journal and some money in it.

He figured that if he were to stay on the ship that he would be interrogated or if he managed to play dead that the male members of the crew would likely try to, well, make use of his corpse’s more feminine parts. He shivered at the thought, unable to tell if he feared the idea or got excited by it. Either way he did not want to find out which. He briefly considered taking PoisonBerry with him, but not only did she not remember who he was but frankly she might as well be dead if she didn’t remember him. Plus, he was a stranger to her, and though she was never quite smart, she had good instincts. He had always admired that about her.

He was about to get into a raft when he heard a gun cock and felt cool metal against the back of his head. He could hear it now, the unsteady and ragged breath of the person behind him. She never really liked the sea air, her asthma would always act up, as it was now by how it sounded. He cleared his throat.

“Th-the-the o-o-cea-ocean a-ai-air-r a-ain’t g-goo- ain’t g-good f-for ya lungs-s, girl.” He hated his stutter, it made him sound scared, but, really, he wasn’t really feeling emotions right now. His legs were tired from standing, his tongue sandpaper in his mouth, and his entire body was sore and nauseated.

“‘S-s-sides, if y-y-ya k-killed me, I b-b-bet-betcha’ th-that ya c-capt-tin beat y-you f-f-for it, make ya c-clean up my bl-blood and gut-ts.” The coolness of the gun left, and he turned to face her. Her features were etched with anger and fear, though her long nose scrunched up with disgust. Maybe it was the smell. But when he looked into her eyes, she looked away. Those once bright green eyes that he had once stared into with mutual admiration and respect could now barely stand to look back at him. She was afraid.

“Just return what st-stole and you can leave.” She held out her hand for the item.

“Th-th-the b-bah-bag ain’t-t yours, b-b-babe.” He needed to get on land quickly, else he was going to throw up his guts into the sea.

“I’m talking about the journal.” She sneered at him. He could handle an angry PoisonBerry, and he knew had to act fast or do what she wants, or things would get violent.

“J-j-jus-jus’ t-t-takin’ back what’s-s m-mine br-bro.” His instincts acted and then the gun was in his hand and aimed straight at her head before she could register what happened.

“Y-y-y’know wh-what-t, s-s-s-since you s-so rude to your g-guest, you c-c-can t-take me to the Av-v-v-vante docks or y-you-you’ll get a f-fuck-fucking b-bull-let in ya s-sk-skull.” She was no longer rude.

It would have been silent if not for the gentle waves around them. Blitz was looking directly at PoisonBerry, studying the rowing girl with scrutinizing eyes. She used to be so different, she was so confident, hard-headed and energetic. She used to give off an air of easy-going superiority that made anyone relaxed. The person in front of him was merely a pitiful disgrace in her body, if there was a way to get rid of this thing that possessed her and bring back his friend, he would take any opportunity he got. He hated how different she was now, and it showed.

“So, uh-“

“Sh-sh-sut-shut the f-f-fuck up, p-pl-please. I-I-I’m n-not in the m-mood to t-t-talk.” The rest of the it was spent in grateful silence.

When the two arrived at the town, the sun had barely risen, yet society was already awake. The mere idea of waking up this early disgusted them both and angered Blitz, but that meant stores were open. Which meant food, and though the thought of eating nauseated him, he was hungry, and he knew just where to eat at.

He walked with a purpose, if anger could be considered one. It certainly would have been a sight to see, a corpse walking with a girl so skinny she was a skeleton, both wore ill-fitted clothing. Blitz loved and hated the stares he got, on one hand, it was attention and their gazes were fearful, on the other hand, it was attention, and they were afraid of him.

When the two reached their destination, a small café tucked neatly away in the city, Blitz was thankful that there weren’t much people. He gestured for PoisonBerry to sit at a booth near the counter. He knew the girl at the register, but something told him she didn’t remember him. Before he could order though, another familiar face rushed in, a vampire girl whose admittedly had much healthier looking skin than his, she ordered tea and coffee. He snorted at the order, knowing that it was not born of indecisiveness, but of an ideology that screamed ‘Life is boring so do what you want and if you end up buried alive or in jail then you did not party hard enough.’ Quite frankly a beautiful philosophy to live by.

“Y-you tr-tryna’ c-c-cure a h-hang-hangover?” He leaned against the counter. She looked over at him, shocked by his existence, and smirked, pulling out a thermos. She unscrewed the cap and held it towards him. The contents of which assaulted his sense of smell. The thermos contained a mix of honey, blood, and vodka.

“M-m-ay-maybe j-just stick to c-candles, A-Amber.” He told her.

“Either you’re a psychic or a stalker, either way I’m outta here.” She exclaimed, pronouncing ‘either’ both ways. True to her word, she gathered up her things and left. The girl behind the counter snorted.

“Next, I guess.” The dark-skinned girl said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“U-uh, y-yeah, I-I’ll have a sl-slice of st-str-strawberry c-c-cake and a t-t-t-tea for my friend and I’ll have a dou-double-ch-choc-double-chocolate-ch-chip cookie and uh, the sw-sweet-test coffee you have.”

The girl scribbled down the order with a bored expression, then her eyes flicked up and she smiled.

“That’ll be $14.42.” She stood straight and cleared her throat. “But if you can guess my name you’ll get a discount.” She smiled lazily. He might as well have, considering he knew, both her and her twin.

“I c-c-can tell y-ya more th-than th-th-that. A-al-also I’ll p-pay for the va-vampire’s drink t-too, consider-considering h-how sh-she l-left bef-fore she- before she could h-h-hers-self.”

She pretended to ponder it for a moment, then held out her hand for him to shake his. She slid the order through the little window leading to the kitchen.

“Y-your n-n-name i-is Ar-Arti-Artimes, you ha-have a twi-tw-twin with b-bl-blue e-eyes named Apollo, and-and! - y-y’all are fr-friends and c-co-workers with girl n-named Ch-Char-Cha-Charlotte C-Cooke!” She stared at his grinning face with wide eyes.

“Go sit with your friend, your order will be out shortly.” He smiled at her, setting down $9 and going to sit with PoisonBerry.

“Wha-what are you, like, a stalker or somethin’?” She asked with bewilderment. All she got for a response was a small hum.

“Like, how do you know so much?” She rephrased. He leaned over the table at her and spoke in a low tone.

“I-I’m a g-god.” He leaned back up. “A-anyway, af-aft-ter this I f-figured we sh-should g-go v-v-visit an old f-f-friend.”

“Or maybe we should make you go get a haircut because it covers your face.” She said back. He let out a chuckle and a small glare.

A girl with skin the color of cookie dough and caramel-colored curly locks of hair walked over to them, carrying their breakfast. Charlotte Cooke, the love of his life from before death, still looked as angelic as ever. She nodded her head along with whatever was playing in her head-phones and smiled at him as she set down their food. He clumsily searched his bag for some money to tip her with.

“Well, thank you sir!” Her soft voice was music to him.

“H-h-have a n-nice d-day!” He said as walked away. The two ate in silence, PoisonBerry giving him weird looks the whole time. They finished up and left.

“Alright-t, s-s-so, I a-ain’t g-gon-na-na get my h-hair c-cut in p-p-public p-plac-ce.” He said to her as they walked down the gravel roads.

“What, so, you gonna cut it yourself?” She asked as they turned a corner. He didn’t respond, in fact, the walk continued in silence until they reached a point where gravel turned to dirt and buildings turned to trees.

“Where are you taking me?” Her curiosity was starting to turn into unease. She started wondering how much she could trust this guy. Minutes went by with no answer as Blitz lead her down a twisting path that lead to nowhere. She asked him again and he responded with aggression in his stance and an off-putting calmness in his words.

“Y-you cl-clearly aren’t c-c-com-comfortable ‘round me, y-yet you con-continue foll-follow what I s-say. I d-don’t need-need you at this point, a-at th-th-this-s pl-plac-ce.” He turned to face her, and even though his face was visible, it still just as unreadable. “Th-th-there is n-no more g-gun t-to your head-d,” he spread his arms out “and there is n-no g-g-gun in-in my h-h-hand. Ther-the-there’s n-n-noth-thing stop-stopping you fr-from-from leaving.” She looked away, hugging herself with boney arms.

“I got nothin’ to go back to if I leave.”

“D-damned if you d-do, damn-damned if you don’t. Y-you’ve go-got-t-ten this f-far, c-contin-continue, o-or not, it’s-s your ch-choice, I d-d-don’t ca-care.” He continued down the trail, and against her better judgement, she followed behind, like a dog on a leash.

The house was exactly as he remembered it. It towered over the trees and to those unfamiliar with it, they would lose more than just their path. He always loved this place, and it loves him. He could spend eternity wandering its’ halls. His house lifeless, like he had been. Yet there was someone in there. He barged in, ready to tear the place to shreds with his bare hands to find them, to find this intruder and remove them from his home like a parasite from a praying mantis. Yet there was no need to, the person was right there.

“Oh, I thought you’d be home sooner.” With pale, cubby cheeks, red eyes, and long straight blue hair, Sundae had not changed one bit. And judging by the barking corgi that squeezed through her legs to lick him, neither Sundae nor Butterscotch had forgotten him. He picked up the Brit and spun her around, the two laughing like children. Butterscotch yipped happily. He put her down, cleared his throat, and told her what he already knew.

“Blitz, trust me, I’ve been keeping tabs on our dear friends, and I know how to get their memories back. Except,” She gestured to a confused PoisonBerry, “she’s been at sea.” She walked over to the green-eyed girl and took her angular face between her hands. “Plus, she’s changed the most. Whatever made her how she was, was purely thanks to you. She’ll be the hardest to restore. But, we’ll also need her for Midnight.” She lead the two into the house.

“W-w-well, h-how we g-gonna do it?” He asked her, hands in his pockets. A thought struck him then. One that shook him to his core. Had his brother forgotten him? Did his sister forget him? His head was clouded, his ears rang, and nausea consumed him.

“Blitz!” Sundae caught him before he fell. She looked to PoisonBerry. “Well come on then, help me out here.” The raven-haired girl hurried to them.

“What’s wrong with him?” She asked frantically. Sundae simply looked at her. “Is-is he having a stroke?”

“What- No. He, he’ll be fine, he just passed out.”

Blitz woke up a day later. Nausea filled his head and couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, he was numb and in pain all at once. He tried to scream, yet all that came out was blood and bile. He managed to lean over when he threw up. He knew it might be getting on his carpet, but at the moment he didn’t care. After emptying the contents of his stomach and lungs, he regained his senses a bit. His head pounded, and his body felt like it was on fire. He stumbled out of bed, thankfully not stepping in vomit, and limped to the bathroom. He fumbled around the mirror cabinet until he found his meds. He swallowed them along a mouthful of sink water. The room smelled like death, he smelled like death. He tore off the stolen clothes, grimacing when pieces of flesh went with it. He noticed now how his hair was in such a bad state. The brown locks were greasy, tangled, and covered his face. His skin, normally just pale and scarred, was covered patched of green and yellow rot. He stumbled to his bathtub, turning the faucet on scorching hot and dumping an entire bottle of soap in it. He got in and dunked his head under, too. He felt his hand around the floor and found scissors and a comb. With shaky hand he began to cut and comb his hair. By this point the tub was beginning to overflow, but he didn’t care because there was a drain beneath it. Then he bathed himself. He scrubbed until the blistered. He didn’t want to leave this heavenly scorching heat, but the feeling of unease made him leave. He turned the water off, unplugged the drain and went to the mirror. Eyebags, chapped lips, and a big nose greeted him. One eye was icy blue while the other nearly blind. His teeth were yellow and uneven, but he didn’t care as long he had them. He scowled at his reflection and left.

He combed his fingers through freshly cut hair while trying to recall the events of the past, what, day? He’d never been good at keeping track of time. He put on some baggy dark clothes and taking the vomit filled bucket, opened his window and dumped the bile out. Satisfied, he went to his desk and opened his journal. He scowled at the sticky-notes and carefully peeled them off the pages and threw them away. He flipped to a blank page and began writing.

Either he blacked out or zoned because when he opened his eyes the room was filled with the warm glow of the afternoon. He stretched his hands over his head and his stomach growled under his sweater. He groaned as he left the room. When he got to the dining room with a box of cereal, he saw Sundae surrounded by pictures and papers. He spotted his camera on the table, a cheap little thing he bought with what little money he had when he was a kid. His most prized possession, and Sundae kept it. He was overjoyed until she spoke.

“Blitz! I know who we’ll bring back first.” The black-clothed girl had only just noticed he was there. She picked up a photo of two girls dancing together under the un, not a care in the world. He remembered that day, he and Luci, a werewolf girl, had met Amber. He took the picture when the two were dancing to some upbeat jazz song that came on his radio.

“Wh-which one? He asked, hoping it would be Amber, as she might be easiest to find.

“Why not both? I know where they live.” Oh right, Blitz forgot she’d been stalking their friends while he was dead. This would be easy, they could get most of them done in a day. He gathered the materials they’d need, got PoisonBerry, and set off in a carriage to town.

Amber had a small apartment full of takeout boxes and unlit candles everywhere. The place was a mess and Blitz almost felt bad until he remembered that when he first met her she had been living in a doomsday bunker under a field. The curtains were closed, and the place was dusty and smelled like blood. Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them and the candles were lit. A figure cloaked in shadows stared them down with glowing red eyes.

“A stalker you are, you should have stayed watching from afar.” Amber stepped into the dim light. PoisonBerry hid behind Sundae who stood straight-faced with her arms crossed. Blitz stepped forward, and of all the scents in the room, there was no cinnamon. The one missing was in his satchel. He pulled it out with a box of matches. He lit the candle right as the vampire struck. Fangs almost in his neck, she went limp in his arms and the light became blinding.

When their eyesight came back to them, they were under the warmth of the sun. Tendrils pure light came from the vampire’s chest. And with a burst of light, she awoke in his arms as the sun set. She let out a breathy laugh as she looked up at Blitz’s bewildered face. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his cheek.

“Good ta’ see ya again, amigo.” She looked around and hurriedly sat up. “Where is our wolf?” She looked to him. Sundae cleared her throat and dusted herself off, leaving a shocked PoisonBerry laying in the grass.

“Your friend is in the circus, and the circus will be in town quite soon, just in time for the full moon. And since she joined recently, they have no idea.” She spoke

“S-so, what, she g-gets t-ta’ t-t-town, and w-wolf’s-wolf’s out t-to pl-play. A-and b-b-boom, j-just like-just like th-that, e’eryone’s-s d-dead.”

“Yep. So, if we don’t want a massacre on our hands, we gotta get her back quick.” Sundae stated.

When they got back home, Sundae and PoisonBerry started cooking, and Blitz and Amber started planning.

“So, as a wolf, they ain’t gonna be able to contain her. She’ll escape and look for a place where she can alone.”

“R-right, s-so we gotta-gotta he-her.”

“Do we got anything that’ll do anything like that.” Amber asked him.

Blitz went to his closet and pulled out a long chain.

“That’ll work.”

That night Blitz didn’t sleep. He thought of all that could go wrong and of his brother and sister. He had no idea if they remembered him, if they even still alive. Though he hated it, he was human, and humans feared the unknown. If his brother continued down his path of assassination, Blitz had no of knowing. Eventually, he gave up on sleep and decided to write instead.

He soon found that writing was a great way to pass the time when he heard birds chirping. Yet, right when he was going to leave the room, his body shut down. When he awoke it was obvious that his surroundings were not based in reality. The grass was a deep red, and thorny vines strangled anything that wasn’t grass. The sky was pitch black, yet in the great nothingness it seemed to all flow towards a single point. He followed the hypnotic movement of the inky nothing, each step calming and his movements languid and heavy. Eventually he found it, or rather, himself. The picture perfect of image of a younger version of him surrounded by sunflowers.

“Why, why do you put them through this? All you do causes them to suffer.” He scowled at the child, it’s voice alien and unnerving to him, its words dripping with poison. He stalked toward the child, it’s hair a blonde and tangled halo that he wanted to rip out.

“I don’t recall even speaking at such an age, child.” He hissed, circling around it, ignoring how weird his voice sounded. “Why is it that you’ve summoned me back to the realm make-believe? To gloat about your pureness, your virginity and innocence? That won’t last you very long, you know?” His voice echoed in the small infinity.

“Nothing I do will lead me to becoming you.” It sneered at him.

“And yet, here I am, all you are is a reminder of the purity I lost, the innocence that got stolen from me.” The world vibrated and shook with every word he spoke, the sky melting into the ground, leaving an inky void everywhere. “I hate dreaming, y’know. And you, we, I hate being alone. And my friends keep me from loneliness, and you’re keeping me from my friends.” The last thing he saw was that child’s damn face, mocking him, and contorted in fear. It was an ugly sight, one he was glad to leave. Though when he came back to the real world, there was an overwhelming urge to leave. He wanted to leave. The thought had not yet crossed his mind before now, and it sickened him. Leaving meant all of his progress would be wasted. Leaving meant abandoning his friends. All those forgotten memories, wasted. Yet, he knew he would prefer for them not to know. As he packed his bag, every fiber of him screamed at him not to leave. He found himself unable to scream back. He left his home behind him, a weight lifted off his shoulders and a sickness in his gut. No one knew he was leaving. Except for PoisonBerry, who followed close behind him like a dog.

He took the long way to the docks on purpose, not wanting to go through the sunflower field. A small voice in his head told him wouldn’t be able to avoid it for long. He never could. When he got to the docks, the voice screamed at him to go back. The pirate ship he had left was there, crew members guarding his only escape. He heard a whimper behind him. Of course she was here, of course she followed him, she always did and now she was going to die. He tried to hide her in the forest edge, but it was too late. The captain, who he faintly recognized as PoisonBerry’s sister, spotted them. She called out to them, forcing them to step onto the docks, and right into their clutches.

“Well, ain’t this an odd sight, a corpse and skeleton.” The blonde walked to the pair, crew following behind. Their weapons were drawn and there was murder in their eyes. Frankly, Blitz was unaffected. It all happened so suddenly, one minute they were staring the others down, the next they were in a crate, being thrown into the ocean. Water was filling the space as they sunk. PoisonBerry was panicking, pleading, screaming tothe gods to save her. The only answer she received was the rush of water.

“Pray-prayer is f-f-futile, the-th-the gods-s are f-f-forbidd-den to answ-swer. W-we are al-l-lone in oc-cean and th-they m-might a-as w-well be d-d-dead to- to us.” His voice shook with irritation and his body shook with fear.

“This—This is all your fault! I’m going to die and it’s all thanks to you!” She screamed with rage. Hands flew to her mouth.

“Y-you’re the o-o-one who f-f-fucking f-followed m-me.” There was a shift in the pitch, he could see her eyes.

“You held a gun to my head!” Brighter. “You made me leave with nothing but the clothes on my back.” He could see tears now, glowing, angry tears. “And even when you did give me a choice, my only options were you or being lost and alone!” Brighter still, he could see everything in the box. “I-I chose—I chose you.” The green light became blinding, his ears rang, and his head ached, yet he didn’t look away.

“Welcome home, Nat-Natalie.” He whispered and closed his eyes. He felt bony arms around him, wetness forming on his sweater and sobbing in his ears. He cried too and clung to his friend like a child. “Y-you’re back—you—you’re back. You’re c-come back—come back to—to me!” They held each other tightly as if either one were to let go, the other would fade away. She pulled back from him.

“Midnight! We—we gotta get Midnight!” She stood up. He looked around, sunflowers surrounded them, and they stared only at him, judging, mocking. He closed his eyes.

“I-I g-guess Amb-ber and S-sundae got—got Luc-ci handled.”

The shewolf snarled in her cage as people began surrounding it. They took pictures and laughed at the beast. In the crowd came a loud noise. It progressively got louder as people started clearing away. Amber walked to the cage and placed the trumpet down. The wolf growled at her.

“They got cha’ caged up like some type o’ beast, huh.” She reached her hand into the cage and opened it. The wolf put her paw on the human’s hand.

On the other side of town Blitz and PoisonBerry dragged a blonde girl up a cliff. She was tied up and screaming muffled cusses and curses through the improvised gag. They made it to the top where the ritual was waiting. Blitz waited with the now panicked girl as PoisonBerry picked up a leather-bound book. Blitz shoved Midnight, the blonde, into the circle of mushrooms.

“Fe lat me hahn se fuite nam!”

The circle burned with a bright light and the witch was restored. The ropes had been burned off and Midnight stood. The lovers locked eyes.

“PoisonBerry?” She asked, her accent thick with emotion. Tears welled up in their eyes as PoisonBerry ran to her shorter counterpart. They fell to the ground, holding each other tightly and whispering to each other in their native languages.

Blitz watched on, breathless. It was like he had been a man dying of thirst, seeing this scene of two soulmates coming together was like gulping down water. It hurt like hell going down, yet the refreshing cold numbed it, making him forget everything else, if only for a second. He felt around his scarred neck for a piece of worn string. He found it and clutched the two rings tightly.

He once wrote in his journal about their dynamic. “Visually, they’re opposites. PoisonBerry is tall and almost concerningly thin, with eyes angled in a permanent scowl, pointed ears and nose and a sharp and angular jaw. Her body is boney and pale, her nails bitten down to the nub. (likely a habit she picked up from Blitzs brother) Midnight on the other hand, is short and curvy, with tanned skin. (Blitz’s brother would say she’s “thick”) Her jaw is square with an upturned nose. Her eyes are big and squared off, eyes burning with a bright orange-red flame that held so much passion. So, soft curves and boxy features stood in high contrast with angular and cat-like sharp features. They dress differently as well, yet both seem to have a strong preference for stripes. Midnight wears a lot of black high-waisted skirts and shorts, with flowing short-sleeved shirts, black and blue being her main colors. PoisonBerry wears mostly tight-fitting dresses and sleeved cloaks, blacks, reds, and purples dominated her choice of color, with the occasional splash of green. Visually, they’re opposites, but they’re both filled with a passion for life that I could never hope to have.” (frankly, he used to be jealous of that when he was little, now he doesn’t feel much about it)

When the three of them got back to the house they were met with a vampire, a werewolf, a demon, and an invitation to a masquerade. The group said their hellos and discussed dinner plans. (Lucy glared at Midnight the entire time, silently nodding along to the conversation) Blitz pointed out the moon hanging above and made them agree to have a big breakfast in the morning. While everyone else slept, Blitz fought to keep his closed. The invite they had gotten left a bad taste in his mouth. The invite had been handwritten in a script that he could barely read, fancy lettering with unnecessary loops and curves, but he knew exactly who wrote it. The invite was from his half-sister, somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if his brother had gotten an invite too. He really hoped not, their half-sister had put them through hell when they were kids, leaving them with invisible scars and (thankfully only on Blitz) actual scars too. So, for her to even think for a second that Ty would go was idiotic. He sat up in his bed, wanting to vent his anger out. He opened his curtains to let the moonlight in, lit a candle, and went to his desk. He opened a drawer, one full of gears and nuts and bolts and other bits and scraps he collected over the years. He set some of them on the desk, stared at them for a bit, hoping inspiration would come, then put them back. He opened another drawer and took out his journal. (he had made it when he was very into book-binding, plenty of pages that could act as whatever he wanted) He started taking an account of all that happened since he last wrote. He loved writing, it was a good way to clear his head and keep track of important and not-so-important details that he would surely forget otherwise. It was a way to escape reality, if only for a sec. And this time, escapism worked well, because before he knew it the sun was rising, his candle had melted into a pool of wax and there was knocking at his door. Sundae entered and then gagged.

“Smells like rot in here.”

He turned his chair towards her and lifted his bare arm, covered in varying levels of decay and scars, then gestured to himself, in a similar state.

“S-s-sund-dae, my-my b-body’s m-m-m-mending, it w-won’t- it’s-s gon-gonna t-take awhi-whil-le t-till it’s heal-healed.”

Sundae hummed and stepped in, closing the door behind her.

“Seems as though we’re the only ones awake, well, Amber might be, but who knows with that girl.” Sundae told him. Blitz made a gesture that said ‘well, you know her.’ Sundae hummed in agreement, leaning against the wall where the sun illuminated her features, giving her an almost angelic glow. Ironic, considering the two rather prominent dark red horns sticking from her forehead.

“Y’know, I found PoisonBerry and Midnight curled up together, making up for lost time, I suppose.” They laughed quietly to each other. (Blitz’s ended with a rather nasty cough) He walked to his dresser and took some dark colored clothes from the pile next to it. A quick sniff determined they smelled better than he did. He was buttoning up his shirt when it hit him.

“The-the i-i-inv-v-vite, M-mint s-s-sent-t it h-here, t-to us—to y-you! Sh-she re-rem-rem—she—she kn-knows you.” He curled up into himself. “Sh-she remem-remembers wh-who we are.” He whispered.

Sundae approached him carefully, acting as though he were a wild animal. He knew it was unintentional, but when the look in her eyes went from friendly to cautious, it stung.

“Blitz, relax, you’ll be ok. If anything happens, I promise it won’t happen to you.” She was trying so hard to be comforting, but in his mind, that promise was empty, it twisted like a viper in his thoughts, mocking and tormenting and cruel and manipulating. He knew it wasn’t, Sundae has always been his most trustworthy friend, but he couldn’t help it.

Slowly they stood together, and with shaky hands, he got dressed, slowly, but still.

They eventually got everyone up and ready. (PoisonBerry made the process more difficult than needed, but still) Blitz suggested they go to Pepper’s café. The walk there was peaceful aside from Blitz’s occasional coughing fits. As the group was walking in, someone walked out. The person rudely bumped shoulders with Amber, calling her a deadbeat lawyer. Blitz saw red. He told the group to go head inside and order. Reluctantly, they agreed. (though PoisonBerry sensed a fight and wanted to join, Midnight glared her down till she went with the rest of the group) He glared at the stranger. The person was, to put it simply, jacked. He had at least a head on Blitz, then again, most people did. (stunted growth along with being biologically female will make you shorter than most other guys) To anyone else, the person seemed to have the upper hand, but Blitz wasn’t planning to fight. He shoved his hands in his pockets and snarled at the stranger.

“I-if we were-weren’t-t i-in p-publi-lic I-I’d b-beh-head you.” The person snorted with laughter in response and Blitz lost control. He lunged at the stranger, his mind far away while his body acted on its own. He felt familiar arms wrap around him, pulling him back. The stranger’s face was a bloody mess. Taking one final look at Blitz, the stranger ran.

“Sir,” he looked up at the voice, and stared into aqua eyes. “I don’t tolerate violence at my establishment.”

“Sorry about him, he’s” He looked at Sundae, her hands in her coat pockets and her eyes filled with shame and embarrassment.

He pushed himself from Pepper’s grip and looked at her. Concern and anger were etched into her features. He dug around his jacket pocket and pulled out two necklaces that were tangled around his fingers. He opened his hand, palm facing down, and the sun and moon pendants glittered in the sunlight. He took Pepper’s hand and placed the necklaces in her palm.

“I-I—uh—h-hope this—th-this m-makes up f-for—for wh-what I-I’ve d-d-one.” He disconnected his hand from hers and nodded towards the door. He and Sundae walked in and sat down at the booth with the others.

“S-s-so, you-you’re law-l-lawyer?” He asked Amber, to get rid of the silence. She laughed, and time seemed to move again.

“Yeah dude, a good one, at that!”

“So, like, is candle-making a hobby or somethin’?” PoisonBerry asked, confused by the new information.

“I think she became a lawyer when her memories were false.” Midnight interjected. The conversation continued while Blitz and Luci stayed silent. Well, at least he was paying attention, Luci was chewing on the napkins. C.C. arrived with their food and drinks and Blitz locked eyes with her. He swore he saw some of recognition there. She smiled at him as she left, and he smiled back. He saw Pepper rush into the kitchen while they ate. He didn’t expect her or her twin to get their memories back for quite a while, as even when he came back from the dead the first time it took a while for them to remember.

Then the bell jingled, and a lady came in who was obviously trying to conceal her identity, yet even with sunglasses and a hat, he knew who she was. He could smell not only the fear and anxiety radiating off her, but also the faint stench of sulfur. Her name was Lola Viper, and in her hand she held an invitation.

#mango man writes #oc shit #story #i can't figure out how to put something under a 'read more'#writing #abstract the book

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girls-scenarios · 6 years ago

Text

A Night to Remember

Idol: Nakyung (fromis_9)

Prompt: fromis finally gets their first win on nakyungs birthday and reader hosts a surprise party for nakyung afterwards!! omg i can't believe i almost missed this i love this blog so much

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: So the fromis_9 official profile spells her name as Nagyung, while everyone on Tumblr seems to spell her name as Nakyung I’m so confused-. Anyone care to explain? I usually go off the profile spelling but for Tumblr search purposes I’m going with Nakyung so I hope that’s okay. Also, I wanted to find a gif with her beautiful two-toned hair but there wasn’t one that fit :( Anyway, I hope you all support fromis_9′s comeback Love Bomb (it’s a bop and it’s stuck in my head), and enjoy!

Your heart was soaring. Even through the screen, you could feel your girlfriend’s excitement, and your heart was racing in your chest. Finally, fromis_9 had gotten their first win, and you could feel tears gathering at the sides of your eyes, smiling as you watched the girls gather around each other, trophy in Saerom’s hand. She was talking into the mic with her free hand, faster than usual and trying not to cry, while the other girls hugged each other. Nagyung was laughing with Jiheon and Chaeyoung while Hayoung, Gyuri, and Jisun were crying, and Jiwon was jumping up and down in excitement, holding Seoyeon’s hand. For a moment, you could only watch, lost in your happiness for them.

It wasn’t until the other idols began to file off the stage and their song started to play through the speakers that you were knocked out of your thoughts and remembered what you’d been doing. It was Nakyung’s birthday, and you were currently standing in their dorm, surrounded by balloons, a “happy birthday” banner, and other scattered decorating materials.

“What an awesome birthday gift,” you said to yourself, stealing one last look at the tv as the girls sang along to their song. Nagyung was glowing, looking happy enough to burst as she danced and waved to the fans, and she stole your attention again. Finally, you shook your head and looked away from the tv again. As much as you loved her, you had to focus on getting the dorm ready for her surprise birthday party. The other girls had entrusted this with you, so you couldn’t let them down.

Her presents from everyone sat on the table, alongside a space for the cake and snacks that you’d brought. The banner would go on the wall so she’d see it as soon as she walked in, and you were scattering balloons around the room, along with taping them up alongside the banner. You also had balloons that spelled out her name to put under the banner, and they’d taken you forever to fill up, so there was no way you were going to forget them. Rolling up your sleeves, you let the tv play in the background as you got to work. After everything that had happened tonight, the party had to be perfect too.

When your phone buzzed with a text from Chaeyoung, you had finished almost everything.

We’re on our way back now! Is everything done?

You took a quick look around the room. All of the decorations were up, so all that was left was to take out the food and cake and arrange the table.

Everything is ready so come on back. Congratulations on the win!

Thank you!!!! We’re all so excited so this surprise party is going to be FUN!

Laughing, you shook your head and put your phone into your pocket, knowing that Chaeyoung probably had some kind of crazy game planned. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jiwon was in on it either.

Alright, let’s get this done, you thought to yourself as you walked over to the fridge. There was a cake, of course, and ice cream, but there was also an assortment of other things, like a veggie plate, western chips and dips that Nakyung liked, plenty of different drinks, and the foods Jisun had cooked and left for you to heat up. You’d also ordered cheese tteokbokki from her favorite restaurant, and it should be there any minute. This was going to be perfect.

Quickly, you set to work clearing space for the food and arranging the presents around the cake in an aesthetic way before beginning to heat up the food. Halfway through the heating up, you were setting out the drinks when the doorbell rang. For a moment, you panicked, before you remembered that it was the delivery you’d ordered and hurried over to open the door and pay for it all, adding it to the array of food and going back to what you were doing.

It was perfect timing. As you sat down the last hot dish, your ears picked up the sound of the girls outside. You dashed over to dim the lights and hide behind the couch, hoping that they couldn’t hear your quickly-beating heart from the doorway.

The door swung open and Saerom stepped inside first, flipping on the lights. As light flooded the room, you heard Nakyung gasp and the rest of the girls begin to cheer.

“Surprise!” You jumped up from where you’d been hiding with a wide grin, and Nakyung’s hands went to her mouth, eyes growing even wider.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

“Happy birthday Nakyung! We planned a surprise for you!” Chaeyoung said, bouncing happily. “(Y/N) helped us out by getting all of it ready while we were working.”

“It looks like it’s doubling as a first win party as well. Congratulations, girls!” You said as you walked over to the group. Nakyung stopped covering her mouth to grab your your hands instead as the rest of the group tumbled into the dorms, tears still streaming down Gyuri’s cheeks as she leaned on Jisun.

“Thank you, (Y/N). Thank you, everyone.” You smiled at her fondly and led her further inside.

“You’re welcome. Come on, I just warmed up all the food, and the cheese tteokbokki is fresh! You guys deserve it!”

“You’re the best, (Y/N)!” Jiwon called as she darted into the kitchen, grabbing a plate and getting started. The rest of the girls followed suit, other than Saerom who hung back a bit to make sure everyone else had enough to eat, but Nakyung didn’t seem to be in any hurry as she approached the cake first. It was rather simple, reading “Happy Birthday Aegyo Queen Nakyung”, but it was her favorite flavor, and she seemed to be touched all the same.

“I love it,” she said, turning to you with a smile. “I love it all. You did all of this by yourself?” You rubbed the back of your neck, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t that bad. Plus, they got the cake and most of the food before you guys left.”

“That’s why Hayoung unnie wouldn’t let me in the kitchen,” she said, shooting a glance at the oldest member. “It makes sense now.” Laughing, you grabbed two plates, handing one to her.

“Sorry to keep you in the dark. But I got the cheese tteokbokki from your favorite place, so does that make up for it?” Smiling, she leaned into you, letting you lead her over to her favorite dish.

“Just the party would have made up for it honestly. But the cheese tteokbokki? I feel like I owe you one.” She was just joking, you could tell from the lilt in her voice, but you still grinned and raised your eyebrows.

“Hmm, could I get a kiss then?” She giggled and leaned in to press a swift kiss to your lips, almond eyes sparkling as she pulled away.

“I was going to kiss you anyway, you didn’t have to ask.”

“Eww, not in the kitchen,” Jiheon whined, making Nakyung stick her tongue out at her. But she pulled away from you anyway, moving instead to begin filling her plate with food.

The atmosphere was good; everyone was excited, happy, and giddy from the win, so no one seemed to remember that they were tired from long practices and schedules, instead buzzing with life as they gathered in the living room. The trophy sat on the highest shelf near the tv, proclaiming their win to whoever walked through the door.

Nakyung took your hand again once she was finished making her plate, and the two of you walked over to join everyone else sitting in the living room. As the two of you sat down, she bumped your shoulder with her own.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” No one else seemed to be interested in your conversation, busy talking about the win.

“What did you get me?” Her eyes were sparkling again, and she looked so cute that you really wanted to kiss her again. Maybe you would.

“Why do you want to know?” You had gotten her a little figure of her favorite Overwatch character, and the newest Oh My Girl album. But you weren’t going to tell her that and spoil the surprise.

“Because I wanna know?” She gave you the little pout that she knew made your heart speed up, but you shook your head.

“Nope, not going to work. You’ll have to wait and see.” She pouted even harder, leaning in even closer and resting her chin on your shoulder, but just as you felt like you might give in, Jiwon jumped up from the circle, startling everyone into looking at her.

“Okay everyone, it’s game time! Come on!”

“Game time?” Nakyoung asked, pulling away from you and giving you a moment to breathe. Chaeyoung moved to stand beside Jiwon, and you recognized the look on her face.

“Of course! The night would be boring without some kind of entertainment.” Seoyeon knew too, scrunching up her nose as she looked at her friends.

“By entertainment, you mean that you two are going to make us play some weird game, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Saerom unnie,” Jisun said, turning to the leader for help, but Saerom just shrugged and leaned back into her chair.

“As long as we’re not doing anything crazy or illegal, I don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s a birthday party, you’re supposed to play games.” Jisun sighed and rested her head on Gyuri’s shoulder, and Hayoung gave Saerom a wary look, but Chaeyoung and Jiwon cheered immediately.

“Thank you, leader! The first game is....” Chaeyoung turned to Jiwon, who announced it.

“Truth or dare!” The reaction was varied, from groans to laughs, and you shook your head, already knowing where this was going. But Nakyung was laughing, and as long as she was happy, you were happy.

“Remember the last time we played?” You said, looking at her with raised eyebrows. She nodded.

“Yeah, we had to switch clothes.”

“And you ended up keeping my sweater.”

“Hey, it was cute! And you said it was okay!” You laughed, and she rested her chin on your shoulder again, so close and cute that it made your heart speed up again. No matter now long you’d dated her, she still made your heart race. “Hey, let me dare you.”

“The game hasn’t started yet.”

“Just let me!”

“Fine.” She tilted her head slightly.

“I dare you to kiss me.” You let out a laugh.

“You didn’t have to dare me to do that. I would have anyway.”

“It’s in the spirit of the game.” It was getting late, but you didn’t feel tired at all. The food was good and the room was abuzz, and the entire night had been a success.

“Are you having a good birthday?”

“It’s amazing. It would be even better if you kissed me.” You couldn’t say no to that. Immediately, you leaned forward and captured her lips, kissing her softly. The rest of the girls reacted, of course, but you couldn’t be bothered, and you knew Nakyung wasn’t either. When you pulled away from her, you raised your eyebrows.

“That make it better?” She smiled that cute little smile that made her nose scrunch up just slightly and her eyes crinkle at the sides and wrapped her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder. You put your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and ignored Jiwon’s protests. Nakyung was happy, so you were happy, and well, you knew the other girls were happy too.

“Now it’s perfect.”

#fromis_9 #fromis 9 #fromis9 #fromis #nakyung #nagyung #fromis_9 scenarios #fromis 9 scenarios #fromis 9 scenario #nakyung scenarios #nakyung scenario #nagyung scenario #girl group scenarios #girl group scenario #kpop scenario #girl groups #kpop girl groups #fromis scenarios #fromis9 scenario

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jeonggukingdom · 7 years ago

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19 with jungkook because yes it's just yes :)

Prompt: “Stay in the light”Pairing: Jeongguk x ReaderGenre: Horror, demon!AUCount: 2.390 words

warnings: character death, mention of blood, gore.

Your lungs constrict spasmodically, seeking for the air you are so adamantly and unconsciously holding back in your panic-stricken state; your hands tremble around the cold pink case of your phone - your eyes frantically looking for his name on the screen - and you almost drop it to the floor as soon as the call starts.

Your heart beats frenziedly in your chest as another rush of pure terror throws your body into earthquakes, your bones painfully rattling together.

Curses escape your pretty mouth in whispers that would make sailors blanch and parents appall - still, every single word you emit is one hundred percent felt to your very core.

The clock stroke midnight somewhere between fifteen and thirty minutes ago - for Lord knows, time stops making sense when you’re making yourself shit-scared - and there is simply no denying that you’re the sole person to blame for whatever is happening in your house at this very moment.

As per tradition, you had been sitting in the dark expanse of your room - popcorns in one hand and remote in the other - watching a spooky marathon of horror movies just to get you in the mood for Halloween. It is also part of the tradition for you to get so scared, you won’t be able to close your eyes for more than the millisecond it takes them to blink for at least the next twenty-four hours.

So, it is not a rare occurrence for you to call your boyfriend from six years in the middle of the night and ask for his rescue. Which is why, it does not come as a surprise for him either both the frenzied tone of your voice as soon as he picks up the call, and the nonsensical words you’re trying to fit into a phrase.

“Did you scare yourself to death, again, ___?” his flat and lifeless tone tells you he was already in bed, probably on the verge of sleep, and that is usually a sign for you to retreat and just call it a day. But, the door downstairs decides to creak and you scream in respond - probably hurting his ear in the process.

“I swear to God, someone is in the house!”

“Is it me, or did we live this very scene many, many times before?”

“Jeongguk!” you hiss in your phone, clutching it harder against your face as your knees hit your chest in the vain attempt to make yourself look as small as humanly possible.

“Your parents will be home soon. Please go to sleep,” he yawns in the receiver and you can almost imagine him closing his eyes and go back to la la land.

“Please.”

You don’t know if it’s the tone of your voice or the fact that he knows for sure he won’t get even a second of sleep until you feel secure again, but he does comply and hastily walks out of the warmness of his bed.

“Fine, fine! I’m getting dressed. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Don’t hang up!”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, what would ever happen to you in ten minutes?!”

You open your mouth trying to find a plausible excuse to keep him on the phone, something along the line: ‘many things can happen in ten minutes’, but all your words die down as the power in your room goes off, leaving you completely surrounded in pure darkness.

The scream of pure terror that escapes your mouth is bound to wake up at least one of your neighbors and, for once, you actually pray someone would come knocking on your door and pester you about education and respecting sleeping hours.

“Why did you scream like that?!”

“The power…” you gulp down, scanning your room relentlessly as you get used to the veil of total blackness, “The power just went out.”

You close your eyes as you try to take in as much air as you can possibly fit in your constricted lungs and release it all out to calm your racing heart.

“I really think someone is here with me,” the broken whisper that escapes your mouth is welcomed by a sigh on his part and the promise that he is indeed on his way - like the prince in shining armor you’ve always dreamed of as a kid.”Do you have a flashlight somewhere in the house?””I’m not going anywhere until you come here!”

You bite down on the nails of your free hand, eyes scanning every inch of the room in search for the ominous presence you’re now completely sure inhabits the house.”OK, fine. I’ll bring one.””You’re not in the car yet?!” the shriek that comes out of your mouth is something akin to the scream of a banshee and you’re surprised yourself whoever is in the house with you hasn’t found you yet because, Lord knows, you have made a terrible job at hiding yourself.”I’m not ‘The Flash’, you know? I’m grabbing my keys now.”You exhale in relief as you hear the sound of his car engine starting and, suddenly feeling brave enough to stand up on your own two feet, you run to the window by your bed to attentively study not only your yard but also the street to see him coming.

“What movie were you watching anyway?” He asks after a while, a yawn mixing with his words into a mesh almost intelligible if it weren’t for the fact that this question is also part of the tradition.

“The Conjuring,” you whimper at the sole mention of the horror movie and he sighs into the microphone.”I really don’t understand why you keep watching this crap if you’re so goddamn afraid.”Of course, he is right but still, you do like the thrill and the fear that comes with those movies. What you can’t handle is a desolated house left in the darkness with odd noises and nowhere to run to.

Soon enough, two big bright lights illuminate the street of your neighborhood and you promptly get on your feet and dash out the door, taking the steps at a speed that is dangerous enough for you to fall and split your head open. Still, the alternative of being kidnapped by some sort of ghost is a far worse case scenario for you to even consider taking them as a normal human would.

You don’t know how he was able to park in your yard and come in your foyer faster than you could walk those steps but, you do not question his presence when he represents the only anchor to your salvation.

You promptly jump on him, encircling his neck to bring him closer and get lost in his reassuring embrace.

He chuckles in your ear whilst stroking your hair as if you were a child and, normally, you would backlash at him for making fun of you but, for the time being, you don’t mind a little teasing in the slightest.

“Did you bring the flashlight?”

He gives you a side look that seems to say that ‘of course he did, it was his idea in the first place’, but you ignore it and grab it hastily from his hands to bring a faint light into your house. You’ve learned the hard way that even your own home can turn evil and ominous when there’s no functioning light in it.

You gloss over everything you can reach with the white light, scanning the rooms to check that really nobody is there - and you do feel almost disappointed at the realization that it is probably all in your head, like all the other times - until your eyes fall upon the wall in your living room and you can see, even from quite a few inches back, dark droplets of thick liquid running down the surface and coiling to the ground.

“What… what is that?!” you ask in a whisper, bumping into him as you take a few steps back, “Do you think it’s blood?!””Let me go check.”You grab his wrist and look at him with dread in your eyes. Why would anyone go in and check when the door is just a few inches away along with freedom and safety? - that is what you think as he gives you a reassuring smile and leaves your side.

“Stay in the light!” you take a step forward, making sure he stays in the cone of light generated by the flashlight and you watch him getting closer to the wall, your heart going rampant in your chest.

“I think it is…”

“What?” you whimper, your hands shaking as he takes another step forward, and then another, and then another. And then, he’s engulfed in darkness and you can no longer make out the outline of his body.

“I think it’s blood, sweetheart.”

A cold hand grabs your mouth, trapping your scream within, and your whole body turns into ice - fear petrifying you on the spot.You don’t understand for, the voice right next to you belongs to the man you love with all your heart yet, the grip around your waist and the hand atop your lips do not match the tender ones you’re used to.

“No no no,” he coos, his breath hitting the skin on your neck to cover it in goosebumps, “Don’t tremble like this, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fill with tears of pure dread and horror and you watch him smile at the corner of your eyesight. He looks just like Jeongguk but with one, distinct, difference: his eyes are two pits of charcoal.

“I will uncover your mouth and you will not scream. Are we clear?”

You nod your head in compliance, the thought of disobeying his orders not even crossing your mind as you are quite sure of what would be of you if you did.

“What… what are you?” you whimper, as soon as his slender fingers leave your face and join the other hand on your waist, successfully back-hugging you in a grasp that feels like death.

“Didn’t your mommy tell you that monsters come out to play on Halloween?” his dulcet tone shots panic in your veins and silent tears rush down your face, “I’m a demon, sweetheart.”

Your ears ring loudly and you can’t focus on anything else besides the words that just escaped from his mouth. Demon.

“Where?” you whimper and a loud sob fills the deafening silence of the room, making him chuckle in return, “Where is Jeongguk?”

“I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

You do not dare think about what his words imply. Because what he is saying is something you cannot believe. You won’t believe. For, if it’s true, you were the very demise of the love of your life.

“Is this a joke? Because it’s not funny Jeongguk!” You grasp that little hope you have left, tag onto it and grab it tight to hold it to your heart. It has to be a very sick joke. It has to.”Oh, sweetie. I’m not him.” he chuckles at your candid plea, “You should never trust a pretty face. Don’t you know that?” he smirks on your ear and his hand returns to your face. His fingers encircle your chin and tilt it up, just enough for your eyes to land on the ceiling.

A scream comes out your mouth and it scratches your throat, leaving you breathless.

You fall on your knees without the support of his monstrous hands - the hands that look like the ones of the man you loved - and so does the mutilated body that was hanging above your heads.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, left intact of him for you to recognize him. Except for the doe eyes, you loved so much. His pupils do not shine as they once used to, they do not hold the warm chocolate hue that made you fall in love and they do not have that kindness that was so Jeongguk. They are lifeless and full of terror.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

His fingers glide across your cheeks and he smiles at your pain, enjoying every bit of it - every single tear, sob, whimper you emit is nothing but music to his ears.

And when his hand finally grasps your neck and you feel his claws against your skin, what you feel is not fear. It’s solace.

Death doesn’t feel as painful as you thought it would. Or maybe it doesn’t when your heart is already shattered into tiny, little, pieces.

You don’t feel your body falling until it hits the ground, your eyes still fixed on the remains of your soulmate, and you caress his cheek with your loving hand - just like you used to do every time he was about to fall asleep.

You’d love for him to be the very last thing that you see but it is not. What you witness is his demonic face, his black aura dancing around his borrowed features as flames of coal, and the ecstatic expression on his features as he feasts on your flesh and blood. And then, only then, you die.

#noonanet #KWritersKollection #BangtanWriters-Net #Bangtan Bookclub #gguknet #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader #drabble game #halloween drabble #bts x reader #Anonymous

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swfanficbyjz · 7 years ago

Text

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 9

<- Previous Chapter

Obi wan sat on the floor of his modest hut. It was early morning on Tatooine, only one sun had risen so far. He needed to get moving, but he always started his day meditating. He sunk through layer after layer, it was easier now that he'd finally broken through what had been holding him back. Nothing had been resolved, of course, he could just escape it long enough to reach through to the other side.

"Hello, Obi wan," Qui-Gon's voice floated around him.

"Hello, master." Obi wan replied, allowing himself to relax.

But before they got very far in their daily lesson, something pulled on Obi wan's senses. He tried waving it away, but what had started as just a tickle of awareness, suddenly became something he couldn't ignore. He pulled himself up, grabbed his lightsaber and raced outside. He was up to the top of the ridge in no time, looking towards the Lars' farm. But he couldn't see or feel any threat.

His muscles ached, he wasn't as young as he'd once been. He'd mostly learned to be more patient, calmer. Not needing to jump into every fight that presented an opportunity. His life on Tatooine was a major contrast to the one he'd led on Coruscant. This planet attracted all manner of dangerous life forms, but nothing he couldn't handle. Some days it was hard to believe he'd once been a general, leading men into battle, fighting for his life day after day.

He scanned the horizon in all directions. He still felt something, but he couldn't see anything. Whatever it was, didn't seem to be coming for Luke... if anything, it was coming for him.

The force had changed since the last rotation. He didn't really know what was going on out there, and he avoided calling Bail as much as possible. The less contact, the better. But there was definitely something different. As if something big had changed. The force was less... empty... Could the tide be turning? And what did that mean? Was the emperor losing at last?

Before he could move from the spot, his eyes snapped to the west. Two figures had appeared at the top of the ridge of the farthest sand dune. He couldn't make out details, but he definitely felt them in the force. Whoever they were, they were both strong. And... familiar...

He ran back to his hut, threw on his robe and mounted one of his eopie, setting off in the direction in which he'd seen them.

---

"I'm not sure he'll want to see me, Ahsoka." Anakin said, stopping. "Maybe you should go alone."

She turned and put her hand on his shoulder. Since she'd found him again, sometimes it felt as though their roles had reversed. She was the master now, comforting her scared padawan. It was a weird feeling to her. But she also understood, that in a way, Anakin did need a teacher. Not in the ways of the force, or how to swing his lightsaber. Rather, he needed a teacher in life. She worried that he was relying too heavily on her to remind him who he'd once been. That she wasn't giving him the opportunity to figure it out for himself. She didn't want to smother him. She'd give anything to have him back just like she remembered him, but she also knew, he couldn't be that same person. He might not be Vader anymore, but being Anakin might mean something else entirely now. She wanted to teach him everything she'd learned both about life and who he'd once been, but she also wanted him to decide who he was going to be. After everything she'd learned in the past few days, she wanted to be very careful to not let him fall into another slave type role; she wanted him to be allowed to find himself.

"What do you want to do?" She asked him.

"I don't know," he replied.

"I'm not going to make the decision for you, Anakin. If you're not ready, that's okay. But you have to decide, not me."

He was quiet for a few moments. "Part of me feels like I'm about to face some serious wrath. But that's not how he works, even when I deserve it. From Obi wan, I'll only get disappointment, or worse, he'll pretend everything's totally fine. And honestly, I'm not sure what's worse. I think I'd rather be yelled at."

"Hmm, you're right. Master Kenobi isn't really the yelling type. Look Anakin, I know you don't think you deserve forgiveness, and maybe there's things that you've done that can never be forgiven... but do not ignore the fact that people can still love in the face of that. Do not belittle it or diminish it. Every moment you believe you're unworthy of it, only twists it into something terrible."

"Like it did before?" He asked.

"Kind of," she said. "Before, you couldn't see it as love. This time, you'll see it, but will you believe it?"

Anakin didn't have a chance to answer, because a figure had appeared on the next sand dune. He was mounted on an eopie, a four legged beast with a long snout. He wore a dark brown robe, similar to the ones they were wearing to protect themselves from the second sun's heat as it began to rise in the sky. He rode towards them, and even though Anakin had expressed doubts about their meeting, Ahsoka could sense he watched Obi wan approach with excited anticipation. No matter how he'd felt about his old master throughout the years, he still looked up to him and admired him.

The eopie stopped about twenty paces out and it's rider dismounted, patting it gently on the snout.

"Obi wan and his beasts," Anakin smirked suddenly. "Some things never change." Ahsoka couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips. That was the Anakin she remembered.

The two parties stared at each other for a long while, no one really sure who should go first. Finally Anakin broke into a run closing the distance between them and Obi wan. She watched Master Kenobi catch him in the hug, surprised, but pleased. The eopie made a startled snort and stamped the ground, backing away from them a few feet. Ahsoka decided to let them have their moment. And she turned to take in the scenery around her. There wasn't much to look at in this desert. She raised her hand to shield her eyes, squinting to see the round top of a building in the distance. A tall metal tower flashing in the sun's reflection next to it. She could just barely make out figures moving around the farm. But they were indistinct in the haze of the morning suns. There was a pull she felt in that direction. That must be where the boy lived that Obi wan watched over. She knew Anakin's senses were still too riled to notice some of those things yet. But making up with Obi wan would help him find some balance again.

"Ahsoka!" She turned towards Anakin's voice. He waved for her to follow them as they made their way to a little home between several ridges, shielded from obvious travel paths and the heat of the suns. A perfect place to be a survivor of order 66.

---

Obi wan sat across the table from them, looking them up and down. His hands shook slightly; for years, he'd thought of little else. To see Anakin again, to talk to him, to laugh with him, even to argue with him. Even with the knowledge of what he'd become, Obi wan had only ever loved him. And he had missed him terribly.

The ache had come and gone. Intensifying again as He watched Anakin's son grow into a handsome young boy, from a distance of course. The Lars family tolerated his presence, but they didn't like him getting too close. They seemed convinced that he carried whatever had happened to the boy's father as if it was a disease that could spread. At the time he'd given them the child, being a Jedi was like being a disease. A death mark for sure. And they had made it clear, they didn't want the boy raised or trained as one. They'd promised to love him and care for him, despite who his father was, but at the cost of a normal life.

But now, sitting in his tiny kitchen was Anakin. Obi wan hadn't been able to kill him on Mustafar. He'd left him for dead, assuming the lava would do what he could not. Somehow Anakin had survived and had become a more powerful Sith Lord than any he'd ever encountered before. He'd raced Padmé to Senator Organa, and was forced to watch her die; leaving behind two tiny children. And Anakin… was their father.

Sometimes he felt as though he should have tried harder to break them apart. He should've done what Master Yoda had instructed, and put a stop to their relationship. But he wasn't blind. No matter what he believed about attachment, Anakin had needed Padmé. She'd been one of the few things that brought him genuine happiness. At some point... he had just left them alone. He'd tried to remind Anakin when he could, about the dangers, but he knew it would never make a difference. So, it was only halfhearted attempts. He'd kept hoping that Anakin would come out and tell him the truth so he could advise him better, but maybe he'd never given him the opportunity to. He thought he had, countless times, but Anakin always held back. Maybe he hadn't recognized those moments for what he'd intended them to be.

In all his fantasies of Anakin walking across the sand dunes coming home, he'd never pictured it like this. His face was incredibly pale, scars from their fight on Mustafar ran across his now bald head, but probably ran just as deep beneath his skin. He was a shadow of the young strapping boy he'd once been. And next to him, sat Ahsoka. She'd grown into a beautiful woman. He wouldn’t have recognized her had Anakin not called her by name.

She wasn't the timid, yet mouthy padawan she'd once been. The lost, broken child running from the pain that had been inflicted on her. Her absence had taken its toll on Anakin after she'd left the Jedi order. He'd come to depend on her so completely, Obi wan had never been enough after that. But somehow she'd survived the purge. Somehow she'd found Anakin and somehow she'd saved him. She had done what he could not. And he wanted to pull her into his arms and thank her a million times.

"Master Kenobi," Ahsoka broke the silence first, "it's good to see you."

"It is good to see you alive and safe. And please, call me Ben." Obi wan replied with a smile.

"Ben?" Asked Anakin, hiking an eyebrow.

"It's an old nickname Satine gave me. I like it. I think it fits me better now."

"Old Ben Kenobi." Anakin whistled in disbelief. "My how times change.”

"Indeed." Ben replied and they all fell silent again. There was so much that needed to be discussed but no one seemed to know where to start.

"Pretty clever," Anakin said suddenly as he looked around the hut. "I'd have never thought to look for you on this dust bowl." Obi wan tried to hide his smile by taking a sip of water from the cup in his hand.

"I think that was the point," Ahsoka said. "I wish I'd thought of it myself!" To Obi wan's surprise, Anakin laughed. He couldn't help but wonder how long they'd been together again before coming here to find him. They seemed to have rekindled much of their past friendship to be able to joke so easily about what had been such a scary time. He wasn't sure if he should be proud or concerned. He sensed something hidden behind the joke though, regret maybe? Relief? He'd been out of communication for so long, what had happened?

"I'm sorry, master." Anakin said finally. Bowing his head in shame. "I failed you." Obi wan was startled by the sudden shift in his mood. Laughing one moment, broken the next. He couldn't quite grasp how to respond to him. He didn't know what to say. In spite of everything, Anakin was still a lost child. He still didn't know how to process his emotions, how to find balance. Before he answered, he glanced at Ahsoka, she was giving him a warning look as if to say, 'how you respond to him now will shape his entire future.' No pressure.

He swallowed a few answers that rose up until finally he understood. "No," he said at last. "I'm the one that failed. I was trying to teach you to be something other than yourself, and I see now, that it was wrong. I didn't truly understand who you were, or how much your experiences shaped you. And for that, I'm truly sorry. I've had a lot of time to think about everything, and the Jedi order was wrong to burden you with so much without ever offering you the support to get through it. We were afraid of emotions because we'd been taught they were dangerous. So instead of learning to understand them, we hid from them. We pushed them aside and pretended they weren't there. And some of us could do that better than others. But you, Anakin, you came with memories, you came with relationships, you came with emotions that you'd never been told to hide. And teaching you to push them aside had been an act of denial of everything you were. I'm sorry I didn't see that sooner."

---

Ahsoka watched as the two of them finally found some middle ground. She didn't expect everyone Anakin faced to forgive him, but she was grateful they were at least trying to approach him with love rather than hate or anger. So many things in all their lives would have gone completely differently had Anakin been able to see that love before. But the past was the past. It can't be changed, but it can be learned from, and that was what she wished for him. She wanted him to face it, to stop running from it. Just as she had been forced to do when she left everything she'd ever known behind. It had been the most terrifying thing she'd ever had to do, but when she found herself, there was a calm that nothing could disrupt. Anakin being unpredictable and spontaneous was part of what made him exciting, but she would never ask for that back if it cost him his sanity.

She got up from the table and wandered outside, leaving them to talk. She didn't want Anakin to find out he was a father just yet, but at the same time, she was very curious about the boy. Would he be anything like his dad? Or more like his mother? Or neither perhaps, being raised by two other people entirely. She wondered about the girl too. The stark contrast between their two lives, one here on the desert world of Tatooine probably having to work to survive, the other raised in a castle as a princess. She didn't have to ask why they'd split them up, they'd be safer this way. Now that she knew for sure who they belonged to, she could feel them. They were strong in the force, both would have had natural Jedi abilities. Unsurprising really, but neither trained.

Padmé had not been a Jedi, though Ahsoka had been convinced on more than one occasion, that she could've been one. Maybe Anakin had rubbed off on her. Or maybe her abilities had manifested in different ways. She'd definitely been an incredibly talented and charismatic politician. She'd loved Padmé almost as much as she loved Anakin, which is why she'd let herself be distracted by other love interests that came along. She never would have wanted to come between them. Though she found herself jealous of the way he'd look at Padmé. Wishing he saw her that way. It certainly seemed at the moment, they had potential now to be what she'd always dreamed they could be. But at the same time, she needed to be sure he wasn't hanging on her like he did on Padmé before. Regardless of the shape their relationship took, especially when his children were added back into the equation, she'd stand by him. As a lover, as a friend... either would be okay. Though she hoped they could be both.

Figuring they had a lot to catch up on, she decided to go for a run. It had been a long time since she'd just been able to stretch her legs and feel the wind. She jogged out of the valley and took off in a full tilt. She let her senses guide her by opening up completely. It was the first time in years she didn't hold back or be afraid of letting it go. She'd been so caught up in the euphoric freedom, she hadn't realized she'd run straight towards the farm.

Her feet led her to its west side, where set back from the house were two gravestones. She was drawn to them and as she got closer she understood why. On the first one was written "Cliegg Lars", the second, "Shmi Skywalker Lars." That must be Anakin's mother... She knelt down in front of her grave. She could feel the memory of his pain. No wonder he hated this planet. She had very little memory of her mother. She'd been brought to the temple so young. Most memories of that age had eventually faded. The Jedi had been the only family she'd ever known. But Anakin had been nine when he came to the temple, which she found out later had actually been the same year as her. He would have remembered his mother. He would have remembered this life. He would have remembered what it was like to be a slave. To be taken from his family. To be brought to such a contrasting world and life. She shivered, thinking of the difference in weather alone between this hot dusty planet, and Coruscant. He would have been so cold. But no one at the temple would have hugged him, or held him, or tucked him in...

She thought about how she has her own grave on Mandalore; one her and Rex had hastily dug to cover their tracks. She wondered if anyone she'd known had ever found it. She'd stared death in the face a thousand times since she'd become a Jedi, but she couldn't imagine the acute pain that would come from losing a parent. Especially when they had been all you had in the face of such a terrible life.

"Did you know my grandmother?" A voice said behind her. She nearly jumped. She'd been so consumed by her thoughts, she hadn't felt Anakin's son approach. She turned and looked up at the handsome, light haired, teenager. She weighed her words carefully, unsure how to answer without giving anything away she shouldn't.

"No," she replied at last. "But I've heard stories about her." It wasn't entirely true and she was sure she'd get caught in the lie somehow. She wished she had heard stories about his mother. "What was she really like?" She decided to redirect the conversation to him as to not get questions about who she was.

The boy knelt down next to her. "I didn't get to know her," he said. His voice was soft, like Padmé's. She studied his face, hoping he wouldn't notice. He had Anakin's features, but they weren't quite as harsh. He had a softness in his demeanor, and his eyes were nearly identical to his father's. It may be a difficult life on Tatooine, but this boy had been well cared for and well loved. She was grateful for that. "She died before I was born. But my uncle used to talk about her. He said she was one of the kindest people he'd ever known. She'd been a slave before meeting my grandfather. He freed her and brought her here to have a normal life. Sometimes I think I see her in my dreams. She'll tell me that she loves me. Sometimes she tells me about my father." Ahsoka's eyes widened. Had Anakin's mother been force sensitive too? The boy looked at her suddenly, embarrassed. "You probably think that's silly." He said a little nervously. If only she could tell him she was the last person to judge him for a confession like that.

"No I don't," she said. "I think people we've lost can speak to us in dreams. I think it's how we keep them close. It's to help us not be so scared all the time."

"I like you," he said. "What's your name?"

She hesitated. And then decided he'll find out eventually, she might as well tell him the truth. She was pretty sure her name wouldn't have any meaning to him just yet. "Ahsoka," she said finally. "Ahsoka Tano."

"My name's Luke. Luke Skywalker." He said with a grin.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." She said, shaking his outstretched hand. "I should get going," she stood up.

"I hope we meet again, Ahsoka." He said waving at her as she went on her way.

"I'm sure we will," she whispered too softly for him to hear. Instead she glanced over her shoulder with a smile and a wave. And then as soon as she was far enough from the farm, she let the tears roll down her cheeks.

Next Chapter ->

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fruitcoops · 3 years ago

Note

You write Moody so well! I would love to see something where Moody and Remus talk for the first time after Coops was outed. Whether it happens after the meeting Coops had with Arthur and Alice or after the all star break. I feel like they have such a good relationship!

Thanks! This was partially inspired by watching The Karate Kid (1984) last night, so I hope y'all are ready for some mentor hurt/ comfort this fine Sunday! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for mentioned forced outing

Remus was almost done. He only had a few more drawers to clean out. The whiteboards were as squeaky and shiny as the day he arrived; the desk had a few more dents and coffee stains decorating the surface, but overall it looked decent. He still couldn’t bring himself to take the pictures off, though. It was his life. His friends. He just couldn’t do it.

The sleeve of his ancient Wisconsin hoodie was still damp when he smudged it under his runny nose. No tears had fallen, but he could feel the maelstrom gathering in his throat. Everything he had worked for, gone because of one stupid mistake.

Not Sirius, of course. Sirius would never be a mistake. It was Remus’ fault they had been caught in the first place.

He stared around his office in misery—no official notice of his layoff had arrived, but he knew it would come, and it was always better to be prepared. Maybe it would hurt less if he did it himself, one final ‘fuck you’ to the homophobes before he trooped off with his tail between his legs.

The tiles were cold through the seat of his comfiest jeans. He tucked his knees closer to his chest.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the suffocating silence. He didn’t answer.

“Kid?”

Remus’ lower lip wobbled and he croaked out a ‘come in’ with as much strength as he could muster; it wasn’t much. The door opened with a creak—he had never gotten around to having it fixed, after all—and uneven footsteps shuffled in, followed by a sigh as his visitor settled next to him on the floor.

“You have a chair, you know.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“Not all of us have young knees. Doesn’t your ass hurt?”

Remus nodded.

Moody huffed through his nose and hoisted him up by the arm. “Well Christ, kid, up you come. You’re awfully dense for a beanpole. What, you got concrete for bones or something?”

“No,” Remus mumbled as he followed Moody across the hall and allowed himself to be plonked down in the soft chair by the door. It was his favorite of both their offices; as far as he knew, Moody never let anyone else sit there. His chest seized as a sob tried to fight its way out. “I’m sorry.”

Moody shot him a look at he got comfortable in the adjacent seat. “For what?”

“I dunno.”

“I don’t like useless apologies, Lupin.”

Remus sniffled. “I should’ve told you.”

“Says who?” Moody snorted. “Your business is your business. You’re a bright young man, none of this is your f—oh. Okay, Lupin, easy does it.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus blubbered as the tears finally started to fall. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like crying, but I’m kind of a wreck right now.”

Moody made a few soft shushing noises, inching closer until he could wrap an arm around Remus’ shoulders and pat his arm like he was trying to soothe a frightened dog. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The sobs were near-silent; Remus never cried loudly if he could help it, and he already felt bad enough for dripping his perpetual raincloud all over Moody’s office. He caught his breath after a few hitching inhales and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Remus pulled his knees up again and hugged them tight to his chest. “I haven’t called my parents yet.”

“Did they know?”

His heart gave another painful yank. “Nobody knew. Nobody. And—and now it’s everywhere and people won’t leave me alone and I’m gonna get fired—”

“Woah, deep breaths,” Moody interrupted gently, giving him a little shake. “You’re not getting fired.”

“Yes, I am.” Everything felt gross and cold and sad.

“Who told you that?”

“Coach said it might happen ‘cause I’m a doctor.”

Moody scanned his face for a moment, then reached over and grabbed a box of tissues off his desk. “First of all, take some of these. You look like a mud puddle, Lupin. It’s very unsettling. Second, this is a complicated situation and I wouldn’t be too quick to make assumptions. And third, I’ll go to bat for you.”

He paused midway through blowing his nose. “What?”

“You’re a good man. An excellent PT. The best colleague I’ve ever had, actually. You know your shit and if they try to fire you over this, I’m not going to make it easy for them.”

More tears threatened to fall over the edge of his itchy eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Moody grumbled.

“He hasn’t called.”

“Who?”

“Sirius.” Remus swallowed hard and, before he could second guess himself, leaned his head on Moody’s solid shoulder. “I’ve called him 23 times and he hasn’t answered a single one. He just…left. Didn’t even look at me.”

“He’s making a mistake.”

“I ruined his life.”

“Hey.” Moody’s tone turned stern. “You don’t get to talk shit about yourself in my office. This is a Lupin Appreciation Zone.”

Remus’ shoulders shook and he closed his eyes; he wished he could just dissolve into the floor and stay there until someone mopped him up. Everything hurt. The world sucked. Moody—

Moody was petting his hair.

The tears stopped abruptly and Remus hiccupped in pure confusion. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m bad at comfort, kid, gimme a break.” The sat in silence for a few seconds as Moody continued to pat his head and muss his hair, which was in dire need of a cut but just long enough to cover his eyes when it was pushed forward. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you…?”

Something akin to embarrassment tinted Moody’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “My cat hates thunderstorms.”

“Oh. Cool. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks,” Remus said again, much quieter. Moody’s office always felt safe; all the clutter was in its proper place, clean and homey. The touch of familiarity was more of a comfort than he cared to admit. He sat up straight and wiped his face clean, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “If I do get fired—”

“You won’t.”

“If I do, I wanted to say thank you for changing my life.” The words hung in the air. “You—without you, I would never have felt at home here. You were the best mentor I could ever ask for and I’m never going to forget that. You did more than just teaching me routines. Thank you.”

Moody cleared his throat again. “Tissues.”

Remus silently passed the box.

“If anyone gives you shit for being gay, you call me and I’ll take care of it,” Moody said once the tissue had disappeared into the depths of his pocket.

Remis blinked at him. “Are you offering to hurt someone for me?”

“I’ll deny it in court.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughed. “Fuckin’ hell, this is a mess. I’m a mess.”

“You just got outed and your boyfriend ditched you in an airport,” Moody said bluntly, fixing Remus with a look. “You’re allowed to be a mess. Now go talk to Lily. Call your mom. Do whatever you do that makes you so sunshiney, and then we’re gonna unpack all your shit and put it back where it belongs.”

Remus swallowed hard. Fuck it. Fuck the NHL, fuck the homophobes, and fuck being sad.

Moody narrowed his eyes. “You want to use the kicking bag, don’t you?”

“I really, really do.”

---------------------

“Stupid—fucking—son of a bitch!” Remus gritted out as the beat-up and half-folded gym mat squeaked under his assault. It was two inches of plastic and therapy—he was 90% sure Moody had stolen it from a middle school gym, and it had rapidly become the team’s favorite way of winding down after a frustrating day.

“Harder!” Moody barked behind him.

Remus wound up and slammed his foot into it again. “I worked too damn hard to be kicked out for this bullshit!”

“Damn right you did!”

The kicking bag creased in the center. “And I’ve got too much student debt to walk out of here like—like a coward!”

“Yes, you do!”

His grief had burnt off at least five minutes prior. Remus was well and truly pissed now. “And it’s nobody’s goddamn business who I kiss!”

“That’s the spirit!” Moody cheered.

“And maybe his face is stupidly pretty!” Remus threw his shoulder against the mat before he resumed kicking it. “And, yeah, he has really nice shoulders and a great ass—”

“Lupin—”

“But fuck him for leaving me in an airport! What kind of douchebag does that to a guy? I’m hot and smart and nice and I can date whoever the hell I want if he doesn’t appreciate that!”

“That’s certainly one approach!”

Remus stopped with a harsh exhale and dropped one last halfhearted kick to the base. “I don’t want anyone else, though. And I miss his stupid pretty face.”

A hand, heavy but gentle, squeezed his shoulder. “Then go get him.”

#remus lupin #alastor moody #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic

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kansascityhappenings · 5 years ago

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Oklahoma mother pleads for answers after son’s body found on roadside

OKLAHOMA CITY — “This was my child, and I just want to know what happened, and I want the person to pay for what they’ve done and not have the capabilities to do this to anybody else ever again,” Robin Jones said.

Jones is now living every mother’s worst nightmare.

“’Are you sitting down?’ And I knew then something was wrong. And I said, ‘Why?’ And he said, ‘Takota’s been murdered. The police just left,’” Jones recalled.

Her 22-year-old son, Takota Wise, was murdered and left dead on the side of the road.

This happened Thursday near SW 104th and Morgan.

Police have no suspects and no idea how Wise’s body ended up there.

“We’re supposed to let them bury us; we’re not supposed to bury them,” Jones said.

Jones says her son has struggled with drug use in the past, but she never thought this is how it would all end.

“The world stopped. Even with his drug use and everything, you know, mentally, you try to prepare yourself for a call like that, but then to … murder?” said asked.

Despite Takota’s struggles, she says her son was loving and kind.

“He had a big heart. That’s what I’m going to choose to remember more than anything,” she said. “The only thing that kind of gave me comfort yesterday is knowing that he was saved and baptized when he was 11.”

At six years old, he started playing football at Roosevelt Middle School.

“I said, ‘Takota, the only place you’re allowed to hit somebody is on that football field, and if you do that, we’re good!’”

His father passed away when he was 13, and Jones says since then, Takota was never the same.

“I hope his dad’s happy. He got him earlier than he should’ve, so they can watch TV together and play football.”

Jones is now left with unlimited questions and thoughts of the last time she saw him.

“Every time whenever I would leave his presence – and it comforts me to know that I did, which is I love you – I always told him ‘I love you’ and I always gave him a hug,” Jones said.

Jones left us with a strong message for the people responsible for her son’s murder.

“You left my son dead on the side of the road. I think that hell is too nice of a place for whoever did this,” she said.

You can donate to Takota Wolf’s funeral expenses here.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2020/01/26/oklahoma-mother-pleads-for-answers-after-sons-body-found-on-roadside/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2020/01/27/oklahoma-mother-pleads-for-answers-after-sons-body-found-on-roadside/

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

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Nosy Neighbors

Hey folks! This is a continuation of the Coops social media series, kind of like the boyfriend tag and the tiktoks. Let me know what you think and if you like these fics! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove, as always. Some parts inspired by the SW discord!

“Bonjour, everyone, and welcome back to the Gryffindor Lions Instagram! I’m Sirius Black and I’m here with my fiancé, Remus Lupin, to answer some questions you are sending in while we’re live.” Sirius set his phone up so both he and Remus could see it. “Alright, first question: what are our favorite colors?”

“Green,” Remus said, leaning over Sirius’ arm to see. “Specifically dark green, kinda moss tones?”

Sirius hummed. “I really should say red or gold, but I like blue a lot.”

“Don’t tell Coach,” Remus said to the camera. “Question—wow, these are coming in fast—question two: who kissed who first?”

“You did?”

“I think so. That’s right, I did, because we had the whole conversation beforehand and I just kind of went ‘fuck it’ and smooched you.”

“Smooch.”

“Shush, read another question.” Remus kissed him on the cheek as he looked back to his phone.

“Who is more romantic?”

“You,” Remus said without hesitation. “You’re so sappy.”

“That’s different than being romantic.”

“Either way, you can do it forever.” Remus scrolled through a couple more before pausing and bursting out laughing.

Sirius’ whole face lit up and he craned his neck to see. “Which one is it?”

“It’s not even a question, I just love it.” Remus took a second to collect himself. “All it says is ‘these bitches smitten’, and you know what? Yeah.”

Sirius laughed loudly, leaning against the back of the couch for a moment. “Merde, I’m using that forever. Thank you, whoever sent that in. Okay, what do we have next…who said ‘I love you’ first? Me!” He smiled broadly, looking very proud of himself. “I did.”

Remus peered down at the phone. “People think it’s weird seeing you actually answer questions for once.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Apparently most of them didn’t know you could actually smile—that’s sad.” Remus looked back up and stuck his lower lip out. “Everyone who didn’t know that, I feel very bad for you. Sirius Black’s smile is a national treasure.”

“That’s an awfully smitten thing to say.”

“Turns out I’m a smitten bitch, did you know that?” Remus wrapped an arm around his waist and tapped the phone screen. “On the ice, both of you are pretty aggressive—aw, that’s such a nice way of putting it—and I was wondering if that ever translates into when you argue. Oooh, we’re getting personal now.”

Sirius cocked his head to the side. “I’m going to say not really? First of all, we don’t fight that much, and second of all, we both make an effort to leave any dickishness on the ice.”

“Dickishness is a highly scientific word, of course,” Remus teased. “No, in all honesty, hockey is the only place either of us get, like, aggressive aggressive.”

“Hey, this one is specifically for you,” Sirius said, leaning down to see it better. “Oh, I like this one. To Remus, how do you survive being around that accent all day? If it were me, I would spontaneously combust for sure. How do you survive, mon loup?”

Remus groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t. It’s so frustrating.”

Sirius sent the camera a smug smile. “C’est bien. Hmm, this next person wants to roast us both. Who is messier?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“You just don’t want to admit it’s you.” Sirius raised his eyebrows when Remus scoffed. “You leave your socks everywhere.”

“At least I own more than one pair without holes!”

“That’s not part of the question. I win, you lose, your turn.” Sirius handed him the phone and Remus stuck his tongue out at him.

“Someone named Laila wants to know if we ever get competitive at home or if that’s another thing we leave at the rink.” Remus propped his chin on his hand. “I don’t know, baby, do we get competitive?”

Sirius struggled to hold back his grin. “I’m just going to ask the general public a question now: what do you think happens when you put two professional athletes in a house together?”

“Especially when one of them is the captain.”

“The short answer is yes, we do. I can think of three separate occasions in the last week where we competed over something completely pointless.” Sirius thought for a moment. “Wait, no, there’s four. We should move on before this spirals. D’accord, dinonuggets asked why our dog’s name is Hattie. Good question!” He whistled and Hattie wandered in a few seconds later to sit between them on the couch. “Her name is Hattie because she is our lucky third for a hat trick.”

“Woah, people really like that.” Remus poked the screen as hearts exploded across it. “She is the best girl. Babycakes, sweet girl.” Hattie rolled onto her back and put her head in his lap. Remus petted her absentmindly as he read through the comments, then swung around to face Sirius with a mischievous smile. “What’s the best and worst part about dating someone from Wisconsin?”

“The slang for both,” Sirius answered immediately. “Jeez is so cute, but I do not understand the obsession with ‘hold your horses’ at all.”

Remus shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, you have no culture. Alright, you’re up.”

“Oh!” Sirius slapped at Remus’ leg in excitement and Hattie made a grumpy noise. “Un bébé!”

“A baby?”

“This person is just starting to question their identity and wants to know what labels we use.”

Remus lit up. “Baby gay! Hello! Oh, this is awesome. To answer your question, I used to identify as bisexual but after college I started identifying as gay because I felt like it fit me better.”

“As everyone knows, I was closeted until about eight months ago, but I’ve known I’m gay since I was…oh, maybe 13? 14?” Sirius’ face turned solemn for a moment. “Please remember that your labels can change and you’re still valid. Stay proud.”

“We’re starting to run out of time here, so we’re going to do a few rapid-fire questions. First one: What’s your favorite thing about your partner?”

“Your heart,” Sirius said, turning to look at Remus with a soft expression. “You’re so kind to everyone and you have so much love to go around.”

Remus had one hand over his mouth. “That’s so sweet. I feel so bad now. Uh, my favorite thing about you is how adventurous you are, since I’m an introvert and we balance really well.”

“Why did you feel bad?” Remus didn’t answer. “Oh my god, you were thinking of something else. What was it?”

“Doesn’t matter. Next question—”

Sirius grabbed the phone out of his hand. “Oh, no, no, tell me. Was it my ass?” The mild flush that crept up the sides of Remus’ neck gave him away. “It was!”

“I do genuinely love how adventurous you are,” Remus defended. “Just read the next question before I embarrass myself even more, please.”

“You’re never living that down. What’s the best and worst part of playing on the same team?”

“I think having the same schedule and really understanding the hockey lifestyle helps us avoid a lot of disagreements that couples have, but if we have a bad game then we both come home grumpy and that’s never very fun.”

Sirius nodded. “When you were still the PT we hung out less, since you had to stick around after practice and get there early to set up. Now, we can spend more time together in the mornings and evenings which is just the best. I’d say the worst part is that people have started comparing us in the media, and that’s total bullshit.”

“Yeah.” Remus scrunched up his nose. “It doesn’t have any real impact on our relationship, but it’s irritating to see it circulating when there are so many more important things they could be focusing on.”

“Last question, make it good,” Sirius warned, leaning back so Hattie could stretch her legs further.

“Okay, from Lathan in Texas, how do you have such beautiful hair?”

Sirius seemed rather surprised and sat up straighter. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Well, Lathan, I wash it every other day with shampoo and conditioner and I don’t brush it while it’s dry. Once I get out of the shower, I just kind of…” he shook his head and the ear-length curls mussed a bit. “do that until the extra water is gone and let it air dry.”

“Godspeed, Lathan,” Remus said gravely. “Looks like that’s all we have time for today.”

“Thanks for tuning in, and see you later!”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #wolfstar #lumosinlove #sweater weather #social media #my fic #fanfic #hattie

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