#event : 029
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yeonmuse · 1 month ago
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˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Heeseung finds himself completely captivated by the campus golden girl. Perfect grades, absolute sweetheart, breathtakingly beautiful and the lead girl in every show the theater has put on thus far. Though just what he finds that he’s getting closer to her through her love of theater and performance arts, old flames and childhood friends make it harder for Heeseung to get closer to her.
ᥫ᭡ f!reader x lee heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷
ૢ CASTING ༉ ot7 Enhypen, THE GANG lesserafim chaewon, katseye manon, txt beomgyu. MC FRIENDS &team nicholas, &team jo, riize shotaro, boynextdoor jaehyun, p1harmony keeho, nezza @/babynezza, yuan @/ngc1961
⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well. (Completely rewritten)
TAGLIST IS CLOSED ❕ 🏷️
ღ GENRE smau & written parts, fluff|slight angst, acquaintance to lovers, non idol enhypen, university enha, crack tweets & texts
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CHARACTER PROFILES › ENHA & FRIENDS | MC & FRIENDS
001 › HEESEUNGS DOING WHAT ?
002 › JUST DON’T FUCK UP
003 › CONGRADULATIONS
004 › MAKE WAVES
005 › WHO IS SEYENA LIM ?
006 › SHAMELESS
007 › KEEP YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER
008 › I SMELL A SNAKE
009 › NURSE HES OUT AGAIN
010 › CINNAMON GIRL
011 › YOU’RE CLOSE RIGHT?
012 › THE LIGHTS ARE ON BUT NOBODY’S HOME
013 › WHO THE FUCK IS EJ WHO IS HE PART 2
014 › FUCK SCHOOL SPIRIT
015 › BOY FROM SECOND GRADE
016 › SHE DOESNT EVEN GO HERE
017 › QUIET ON SET
018 › NEVER BEEN THIS CLOSE
019 › DID I FUCK UP?
020 › SERVING ON HER DEATHBED
021 › SUNOO FUCKED UP
022 › OH SHE’S THE WEIRD ONE
023 › FORK FOUND IN KITCHEN
024 › OFFICIALLY LOST THE PLOT
025 › TRIP THAT BITCH
026 › PONYO PONYO PONYO
027 › SUBWAY SURFERS
028 › PONYO AND BAMBI
029 › NONCHALANT
030 › CAN WE TALK ?
031 › PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY
032 › BOUT TO FUCKIN JUMP
033 › HE WANT THE COOKIE SO BAD
034 › THERES NO MATCHA
035 › AUTUMN SUNLIGHT
036 › PONYO AND SOSUKE
037 › MELONCHOLIC HAPPINESS
038 › AND THE CROWD IS CONFUSED ?
039 › SHOWTIME
040 › CURTAIN CALL
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ohisms · 1 year ago
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↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , updated .     (  a  collection  of  various  settings  meant  to  inspire  drabbles  or  be  used  as  prompts .   )
001.   the seaside ,  as the sun is setting .
002.   a cabin in the middle of the woods .
003.   a picket-fenced home in the suburbs .
004.   a dark bus stop lit only by street lights .
005.   a private jet miles high in the sky .
006.   a funhouse’s room of mirrors .
007.   an office building ,  bustling and busy .
008.   the back row of an empty movie theater .
009.   a run - down motel room .
010.   a loud house party on a suburban street .
011.   a university lecture hall during a class .
012.   the rooftop of a very tall building .
013.   a great ballroom during an elegant party .
014.   the back of a wailing ambulance .
015.   the wine cellar of a large mansion .
016.   behind the school’s gymnasium .
017.   a boisterous bonfire at the lakeside .
018.   an otherwise empty parking lot .
019.   the shady bar of a noisy , dark club .
020.  the grounds of an empty summer camp .
021.   a large hedge maze ,  easy to get lost in .
022.   a neglected or derelict treehouse .
023.   a spacious ,  light-filled meadow .
024.   an underground illegal fighting club .
025.   an abandoned scrapyard .
026.   a large penthouse overlooking the city .
027.    an apple orchard in the middle of spring .
028.   an empty playground with squeaky swings .
029.   an extravagant greenhouse .
030.   the base of a large waterfall .
031.    a spacious walk - in closet full of lovely clothes .
032.   a solemnly quiet hospital room .
033.   the dark depths of an abandoned mine .
034.   the deck of a fishing boat at night .
035.   the thick crowd of an audience at a show .
036.   a long ,  winding road .
037.   the scene of a violent crime .
038.   a fork in a hiking trail deep in the wilderness .
039.   a cramped dressing room .
040.   a dusty antiques shop full of relics .
041.   the street of an unfamiliar city at night .
042.   between the tall shelves of a thrifted book shop .
043.   a building abandoned during construction .
044.   a house without power or running water .
045.   a mysterious trail found in the woods .
046.   the back of a taxi stuck in traffic .
047.    the inside of an elevator that won’t move .
048.   fairgrounds during a large event  (or after hours) .
049.   a garden bountiful with flowers or produce .
050.   a childhood home or bedroom .
+   30  more  setting  prompts :    1 / 3 / 2024
051. the site of a horrible accident .
052. a closed pool , after everyone has left .
053. a home holding horrific memories .
054. by the side of a dangerously quick river .
055. a private hotel room .
056. a police station in the middle of the night .
057. a ferris wheel carriage under a sky of fireworks .
058. a lavish , invite - only party .
059. a public transit stop as rain is pouring down .
060. the back of a taxi going in the wrong direction .
061. the underworld .
062. a dusty , forgotten attic .
063. on the set of a television show or movie .
064. a lighthouse overlooking the raging sea .
065. in a post - apocalyptic bunker .
066. on a ship hundreds of miles from the nearest coast .
067. on the rooftop of a perilously tall building .
068. a tent pitched in the middle of the woods .
069. a crowded stadium during a football game .
070. the morgue during an identification .
071. an otherwise empty library during a late study session .
072. a place that feels familiar , yet you've never been here before .
073. a long hallway that seems to stretch on forever .
074. a signpost at the start of a hiking trail .
075. a bar or tavern bustling with life .
076. the dance floor of a masquerade ball .
077. inside of a car parked in a secluded area .
078. at the edge of a cliff overlooking a large lake .
079. inside a very old house with very old haunts .
080. the antiseptic interior of a space station .
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ad0rechuu · 1 year ago
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۪ ᝰ ۫ MY OH MY ୨୧
based on my oh my by girls' generation
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SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ Yn finds out that her whole relationship has been a bet. To get over her heartache her best friend Sunwoo convinces her to take revenge.
How you might ask? By breaking the culprits heart right back of course!
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10jun23 | st. 31/12/23 ━ fn. 01/07/24
pairing. ━━━━━ Best Friend! Kim Sunwoo x Fem! reader (x Choi Yeonjun)
featuring. ━━━━━ the boyz members, kim chaewon, txt members + mentions of other idols
genre. ━━━━━ smau + written: humor/crack / fluff / angst / suggestive / childhood friends to lovers / college au / revenge relationship / relationship based on bet / slight slow burn
warnings. ━━━━━ timestamps/sm numbers/hair colors mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, crude humor (kys jokes), mentions of & illusions to of food/sex/drugs/alcohol/cheating/mental illness, use of pictures of yn but only for reference, yn is a sone (snsd fan). more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, please let me know if missed something. this story doesn’t describe the idols in real life and is written with a dark skinned poc in mind!
notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is open, send an ask to be added. spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too! credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics. i’m not a native english speaker! and thank you to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <3
( please give this story lots of love & check out my masterlist )
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PROFILES. ━━━━━ SONES INCORPORATED ᜊ DA HOMIEZ ᜊ MORE COOL KIDS ᜊ THE PLAYLIST
STEP 1. GET OVER HIM ›
ᝰ CH 000. prologue: THE NEXT BET
ᝰ CH 001. I H8 MEN
ᝰ CH 002. DON’T BREAK UP WITH THAT LOSER
ᝰ CH 003. THE PLAN
ᝰ CH 004. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
ᝰ CH 005. *INSERT EVIL LAUGHTER*
ᝰ CH 006. ANNOYING BRAT FOR SALE
ᝰ CH 007. DON'T WORRY YOUR PRETTY BIG HEAD
ᝰ CH 008. NOT OVER HIM
ᝰ CH 009. CLASSIC SUNWOO-YN-BFF-DATE
ᝰ CH 010. THE NERVE AND THE AUDACITY
STEP 2. MAKE HIM FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU ›
ᝰ CH 011. STEP UP MY GAME
ᝰ CH 012. SASSY CAT EMOJI
ᝰ CH 013. A NIGHT ON THE TOWN W/ YN & WOO
ᝰ CH 014. GOOD NIGHT
ᝰ CH 015. HOBBIES FOR SUNWOO
ᝰ CH 016. GRAND DISCOVERY (YN HAS AN IDEA)
ᝰ CH 017. JUNS UNAPPROACHABLE AND COLD GF
ᝰ CH 018. HANGING OUT WITH MY BFS FRIENDS
ᝰ CH 019. BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF
ᝰ CH 020. DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME
STEP 3. BREAK HIS HEART ›
ᝰ CH 021. CODE ORANGE
ᝰ CH 022. I FUCKED UP
ᝰ CH 023. HITCH IN THE ROAD
ᝰ CH 024. CONSIDER AND MAKE SURE
ᝰ CH 025. WHAT MAKES THE HEART GROW WHAT?
ᝰ CH 026. BALLOON FLOWERS
ᝰ CH 027. REJECTION + ANEURYSM = WENT WELL
ᝰ CH 028. MAKEUP
ᝰ CH 029. BALLOON FLOWERS VERSUS ROSES
ᝰ CH 030. MINE (HIS)
ᝰ CH 00I. epilogue: A PEAK IN SUNYN’S LOVE
ᝰ CH 0II. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT
ᝰ AFTER WORD
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special thanks (& follow these awesome ppl). ━━━━━ to @yuyusuyu @kodzumo @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @seonghwaddict @felixsramen : i have to give you six an extra special thanks because you all motivated and supported me so much while i was stressing and being annoying, just so you know guys are my motivation! (the other message is also to you all ofc)
and to @yunstarz @nyukyujs @rieuvie @thelargefrye @i-luvsang @cybrsan @gyumibear @pocketjoong @jaehunnyy @nebulousbrainsoup @justhere4kpop @xpixie @atinycafe @brrrkdslek @phantom-webber @a1sh1teruu @starryunho @aestheticsluut @end0rchans @yourfatherlucifer @alixnsuperstxr @girls4cheol @cheollipop @mintgki @aoi-turtle @renstears @42e15 @alixnsuperstxr @mrowwww @hwaightme @paradiqms @starrysvn @tubatu-wari-wari @kitten4sannie @chokchokk @hee0soo @joong-of-gold @armysantiny @evilsailorsenshi @mundayoonimnida @aapplepii @juhakutie : first of all i don’t expect you to read or interact with this fic, you might not even stan the boyz or like this sorta thing but i tagged you all because of one reason and one reason only; to tell you that you all make tumblr such a lovely and inspirational place for me, whenever i see ur accs it brightens my day because i know what great ppl are behind them, i just wanted to say that i think that you are amazing and i want to use this post to thank you! happy new years and i love you everyone (and you who’s reading this)
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my oh my © ad0rechuu, 2023. do not copy/repost.
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l3monlem0n · 1 year ago
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Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>
SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering
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Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun
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She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband
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As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)
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Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already
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Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke
OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier
"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months
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Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode
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Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol
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Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper
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You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...
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...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)
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Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever
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friggin bug (very pos)
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You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):
NOT judge her
Forced prom date (?)
Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery
The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast
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This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof
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We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot
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There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?
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We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk
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Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded
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Just N being a good boy :3
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The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image
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Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)
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I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is
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Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)
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I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage
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Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun
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This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...
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...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)
(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)
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Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole
Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight
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bekkarific · 3 months ago
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Playing With Fire
Chapter Four: Heat
Chapter Masterlist
Pairing: The Frontman/In Ho x Fem OC
The work was done for the day, each circle guard lined up outside her room. Ji Ah did a quick scan of the corridor and saw several blank masks staring back at her, but she couldn’t discern which one was Jun Ho.
An announcement rang over the speakers in an unnervingly cartoonish voice, insisting that the guards could now enter their quarters. Ji Ah sighed in relief as her door clicked open. Once inside, she swiftly removed her mask and hood, the oppressive weight of them finally lifted. Her breath quickened, adrenaline from the day washing over her in waves.
Crossing to the sink, she splashed cool water on her face, the sensation grounding her. She lingered there, the freshness calming her heated skin. When she glanced at the mirror, her own reflection startled her. For a brief, disorienting moment, she expected to see another masked face staring back.
She supposed that’s what this place did—erase identities. Circles, triangles, squares, numbers. Even she was now just Number 13. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the one who was different: the Captain. His commanding presence, the precision in his speech, and the austere luxury of his quarters set him apart. Was he the mastermind, or was someone else pulling his strings?
Ji Ah sat on the bed, moving the tray of bread and milk she had been left. Examining her sparse quarters. A small washbasin and toilet occupied one wall, alongside a steel bin tucked beneath the sink. Four hooks on the wall provided the only storage for her uniform.
Pulling back the blanket, she found a pair of grey sleep pants and a matching top. The minimalism of it all felt stifling, but she welcomed the comfort. Stripping off her pink jumpsuit, Ji Ah stood in her underwear, suddenly aware of a glaring problem. No spare undergarments. Her choices were grim: go without or wash her only set. Mortified, she opted for the latter.
Filling the sink with hot, soapy water, she removed her plain black bra and underwear, their delicate lace trim a rare vestige of normalcy. After setting them aside, she used the opportunity to wash herself as best she could. The hand towel provided was rough but serviceable. Clean and in the soft pyjamas, she felt a small measure of comfort.
Draining the sink, Ji Ah refilled it to wash her underwear, the simple task soothing her frayed nerves. As she scrubbed, her mind catalogued the day’s events. Roughly 180 players remained, a significant drop from the initial count in Gi Hun’s report. The guards were varied in stature and rank, their roles a puzzle she was still piecing together. And then there was the Captain—the one who unnerved and confused her the most.
Her temples throbbed as new questions multiplied. She needed a plan. She needed Jun Ho.
—————————————————————
“It is time to wake up and go to work,” blared the cartoonish voice from the speakers, jolting Ji Ah from sleep.
Groaning, she rubbed her eyes, the weight of her reality settling in, part of her hoped this had all been a terrible dream. Stretching, she laid there a moment listening to the muffled sounds of guards preparing for the day. Swinging her legs over the bed, she forced herself to her feet.
She dressed quickly, relieved to find her underwear dry. Pulling on her pink jumpsuit and securing her mask, she became faceless again. She deliberately avoided the mirror, not wanting to confront the stranger she was becoming.
The door buzzed, unlocking with a metallic click. She stepped out, falling into line with the others. Her heart skipped when she spotted 029—Jun Ho—looking directly at her. A subtle foot wiggle was all she dared as a greeting. Her chest tightened with relief when he mirrored the gesture.
But the relief was fleeting. Her group was assigned to the kitchen again, while his was led in the opposite direction.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to herself. At least she knew he was alive and nearby.
———————————————————————
In the kitchen, Ji Ah was tasked with glassware, counting and sorting the soda bottles for the players. 187 remained. The weight of the number gnawed at her, each bottle a life.
A square-faced guard approached her. “Number 13, take the silverware to the Captain’s quarters.” Her stomach dropped. Again?
She approached the bench to collect the tray, casting her eyes over it, there seemed to be a wide variety of silverware in a great amount, almost like they were planning to host several people.
Carrying the heavy tray, she navigated the maze of pastel hallways. The guard at the stairs barely glanced at her this time, letting her pass without incident. One small victory she supposed.
As she ascended, she noticed doors branching off the platforms. Were they guard quarters? Command rooms? She caught a glimpse of monitors in one—a surveillance hub. Every move was being watched, but for what purpose?
Reaching the imposing black door, she hesitated. Before she could knock, it swung open. But instead of the intimidating Captain, she was met with a striking woman in a black mask shaped like a leaf.
Ji Ah froze, momentarily disoriented. The woman’s crimson-painted lips and flowing blonde hair contrasted starkly with the utilitarian setting. Her short black cocktail dress and shiny black heels screamed opulence, who was she, Ji Ah wondered.
The woman waved her in without a word. Ji Ah placed the tray on a small table, observing the woman as she loaded glasses onto it. The precarious arrangement made Ji Ah uneasy, but the woman seemed unconcerned. The woman looked up again seemingly forgetting Ji Ah was even there and dismissed her with an imperious wave.
Ji Ah turned to leave but was stopped at the sound of shattering glass. Spinning on her heel, her hand instinctively brushed her concealed revolver.
The woman stood frozen, her face pale, trembling. Ji Ah took a step forward to offer help, when a familiar voice sliced through the air.
“What happened here?” The Captain’s mechanical voice sent a shiver down Ji Ah’s spine. He stepped into the room, his imposing figure commanding every ounce of attention.
Ji Ah’ pulse quickened as she looked at the woman who was practically cowering in fear at this point, swallowing the lump in her throat “It was my fault, Captain. I knocked the tray.”
His gaze shifted between Ji Ah and the woman, silent and assessing. Finally, he spoke “You are dismissed.”
The women bolted as fast could, not daring to glance back, leaving Ji Ah alone with him.
The room suddenly felt smaller, darker, making Ji Ah’s breath hitch. The broken glass crunched under his feet as he approached, like a tiger approaching its prey.
Ji Ah stood straight, her hands clasped behind her back in an attempt to appear calm.
He stopped in front of her and continued to stare, his masked face tilted slightly as if assessing her every move.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and unnerving, the sound of her own breathing seeming too loud in her ears.
Finally, his voice broke the tension, “You’ve been here less than a day, and already you’ve drawn attention.” He said, his voice laced with quiet menace.
Ji Ah stiffened, she tried to keep her voice steady, despite the panic crawling in her chest “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
The Frontman leaned in, closer than before “Don’t insult my intelligence. So tell me…” he let the words hang in the air, a blade suspended over her. “Why are you really here?”
Ji Ah swallowed hard, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with the mask. Her mind raced for an answer, but the weight of his presence pressed down on her, making it difficult to think.
“I was following orders,” she said, her voice firmer this time. “I was asked to bring the items, the tray falling it was an accident, a mistake. It wont happen again.”
He moved closer, until he was just inches away. Ji Ah resisted the urge to step back, though her pulse was thundering in her ears.“You’re different from the others,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “More observant. More… deliberate.” His head tilted, and she could swear he was studying her every feature, even with the masks obscuring their faces.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied evenly, though her throat felt dry.
He chuckled softly, the sound low and unsettling. “Of course you don’t.” He reached out, his gloved hand gently tugging on a piece of hair that had fallen loose from her hood in her haste this morning. The gesture was light, almost intimate, yet charged with unspoken power.
Ji Ah tensed, her breath catching as his fingers lingered for a moment before withdrawing.
“A word of advice,” he said, his tone sharp once more. “secrets…” He leaned in just slightly, the smooth, black surface of his mask mere inches from hers “Secrets are a luxury you cannot afford. Don’t lie to me again”
Ji Ah forced herself to meet his gaze—or where she thought his eyes might be—her jaw tightening. “Understood, sir.”
He straightened, his presence as commanding as ever. “Good. You’re dismissed.” As she turned to leave, her heart pounding, his voice stopped her.

“Number 13.” She froze, glancing back over her shoulder. “Next time, I expect an answer.”
Ji Ah nodded stiffly, quickly exiting the room. The moment the door closed behind her, she exhaled shakily, her pulse racing. Even as she walked away, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on her, the lingering weight of his touch, his words echoing in her mind: a threat, or perhaps a promise.
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aois-amaterasu-painting · 2 months ago
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Club Zy 029 - Ruki interview excerpt (January 2016)
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[...]
Interviewer: Do you come up with guitar riffs as well?
RUKI: Yes, I do. I always create riffs while playing the guitar; I don’t just program something that sounds like a riff. Right now, I’m practicing playing fast (laughs).
Interviewer: Really?
RUKI: It’s not like I want to play guitar solos or anything, but if I’m not good enough at playing guitar, I can’t perform the riffs or backing parts I imagine. If I can’t play them properly, I don’t feel excited when creating demos. Once you can play fast, it helps improve other skills too, right? So, recently I’ve been practicing fast picking quite a bit.
Interviewer: It's typical of you to not leave things to others, RUKI. Going back to UGLY, the lyrics depict a wicked woman, don’t they?
RUKI: When we were making this single, a lot of absurd things were happening. I turned that anger directly into the lyrics. It’s not about some imaginary wicked woman—it’s based on real events. At the time, I was so angry that it was impossible to write lyrics about anything else. I’m glad UGLY wasn’t tied to a commercial deal or anything (laughs).
That said, I’m not sure if I fully managed to express my anger. I struggled a lot with how to express my anger through words. Even though the lyrics are about anger, I didn’t want them to feel overly *murky. It’s like being absolutely furious, but at the same time, there’s a sense of laughing it off. It’s not about holding a grudge—it’s more like the ultimate form of being pissed off. In the end, I’m glad it didn’t turn into something like a curse song (laughs).
*ドロドロ (dorodoro) something sticky, murky, or dark, emotionally heavy.
[...]
Interviewer: DEPRAVITY is a cool song you’ve managed to create despite having little time. The lyrics of this track also depict anger toward absurd events, don’t they?
RUKI: Yes, it’s about one of the many absurd things that happened. So, it’s like 'Absurdity 1' and 'Absurdity 2' (laughs). However, when it comes to DEPRAVITY, there’s a sense of sadness to it—a kind of helpless feeling. That’s where it differs from UGLY.
Also, I only wanted to express the anger within myself, not explain what exactly happened. So, whether it’s UGLY or DEPRAVITY, I hope listeners vent their own anger and frustrations during these songs. Think of them as tracks for blowing off steam (laughs).
Interviewer: That’s a great idea (laughs). The third track, GODDESS, is a new direction for you—a powerful and emotional number.
RUKI: When I first heard the demo, I thought it was something very different from what the GazettE had done before, and it was really great. Once we decided to go with this track, I started by adding a melody to the chorus. I played it for Aoi, the composer, and when he gave it the 'OK', I worked on the rest of the parts with that direction in mind.
Interviewer: So, the melody for GODDESS was your creation, RUKI?
RUKI: That’s right. There was a sort of guide melody included, but I muted it and started from scratch. The melody for the chorus came to me instantly, and it ended up being used just as it was. For the parts where I got stuck, I’d unmute the guide for reference, but sometimes there was nothing there. It was like, “Ah, no hints here...” (laughs). That said, I did struggle in some places. There were moments when I thought, “I want this kind of melody, but the chord doesn’t fit...”
Interviewer: In cases like that, it’s common for the backing chords to be adjusted to match the vocalist’s ideas.
RUKI: Really? Please write that in bold (laughs). I’ve never asked anyone to change the chords. If I started doing that, then people might start asking me to change my parts, like, “Since you changed the chords back then, can you adjust this now?” (laughs). I’d rather avoid that, so I make a point of not complaining (laughs).
Interviewer: I see (laughs). Could you also talk about the lyrics for GODDESS?
RUKI: Following the anger in UGLY and DEPRAVITY, this song is about "living while carrying pain." These three songs are connected in a flow, almost like a concept album (laughs). The three songs were created around the same time, and by writing about my real feelings at that moment, they took this form. The lyrics of GODDESS are about how even in a life full of pain, there is salvation, and that to me is like a *goddess.
*女神 (megami)
[...]
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jo-harrington · 29 days ago
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Luminous Beings - Episode 9: Inner Starlight
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Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang
Summary: Eddie, Thalia, and their friends embark on a mission to save Wane. But will they succeed? Or have they bitten off more than they can chew?
Word Count: 13.8k
Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)
Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague References to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge, Discussion of the Force, Use of Force Abilities, Abstract Spirituality, Light and Dark Sides of the Force, Canon Typical Violence and Injury, Happy Ending/Hope
Note: Final chapter and I want to give a big thank you to my fellow team member on Team #029 @monologichno for being a great artist and partner in this, to @undead-supernova for being a great beta and for encouraging me to become a better writer with your advice. This project, as I've said before, was in the works for a while and was such an undertaking/labor of love but I've come out on the other side both a better writer and storyteller from having done it, as well as inspired to keep writing.
Thank you to everyone who read as I posted, thank you to the EMBB Mods for hosting such a wonderful event--my first Big Bang!--and anyone who reads well after I hit post. I really hope you enjoyed it.
Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Thank you for reading. Enjoy!
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Hyperspace, 10BBY
As the days went on, Eddie’s dreams only worsened.
Actually, after that first vision, things had settled enough that he had almost called off their trip entirely. Benny, Bob, Thalia, his crew, and even Hoppor, who joined to offer extra muscle, all thought he’d lost his mind when he said that he’d been overreacting.
He’d always had an overactive imagination; it was just a dream and Wane was fine.
"Besides," he told them. "We need to be careful. The Inquisitors found Thalia on Coruscant because we were on Outpost 86. We’ve already been galavanting to Jedha for my lightsaber. Who knows if we were recognized. The more we show up in Imperial-controlled space, the more we tempt fate.”
But the next night, he had another vision, and this time he saw things from his uncle's eyes.
Steev paced back and forth as he asked Wane questions. Interrogated him. And Eddie could hear Wane's muffled voice but couldn't make out what he said. His uncle spoke calmly, answered the inquisitor's questions as best he could. But with each answer, the younger man would grit his teeth and ask another. Clearly Wane wasn’t giving up everything he knew.
The vision itself wasn't so bad, but it confirmed that they needed to intervene to save Wane before it got worse.
And it certainly did get worse.
It was the first night aboard the Stranger Mantis, rocketing through hyperspace towards Bracca, towards Wane, that Eddie woke up screaming once again.
Pain had wracked through his body—Wane’s body—as Steev stood before him, hand outstretched. And it wasn’t a dull and persistent pain; it was sudden, hot, and burning. The power of the Dark Side was as unforgiving as the one who wielded it, and it intensified by the second as Steev’s leniency grew thinner, alongside his patience. 
"This can all be over if you just tell me what I want to know," Steev said menacingly, fingers splaying wider as he took careful, calculated steps towards the older man. His helmet sat in his other hand, curling with a punishing grip.
Eddie felt the sweat drip down his uncle’s forehead and the tears build in the corners of his eyes. But Wane never cried, never begged, and certainly never told Steev any of the information he knew. He endured in silence, like he had for his whole life, and instead Eddie was the one to expel the anguish that wracked his body as he woke aboard the Mantis.
Wane finally spoke the next night, finally giving into the pain. Four words. “I don't know anything." It was enough to earn a backhand across the cheek that broke Eddie from his sleep, clutching his own as the sting transferred.
He was livid, pacing the length of the ship as he ranted to the only souls who were awake. Benny and Thalia.
“He’s an old man!” he hissed. “Torturing him, hitting him. They’ll break his jaw before they get an answer. He doesn’t know anything.”
“They’d do worse,” Benny explained. “I’ve seen how the Inquisitors treat the people who get in the way of them finding a Jedi.” He gestured to Thalia. “We both have. It’s not pretty.”
“So what?” Eddie huffed. He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, but ended up pulling on it anxiously. “They’re gonna kill him?”
Thalia couldn’t look him in the eye when she sighed and said, “Killing him would be too merciful.”
Eddie understood what she meant the following night when he witnessed the abject torture that Wane endured.
For almost a week, he’d been seeing these events unfold from his uncle’s eyes; now he was forced to watch from outside of Wane's body. He was confused for a second, then wondered if it was some mercy of the Force itself to see the agony on his uncle’s face. Or maybe it was more of a punishment.
He tried to move, tried to intervene and stop the scene before him, but he was frozen, as stationary and still as the wall. Maybe he was the wall. 
Wane’s mouth was open in a silent cry as the punishing hand inched closer and closer to him, but he made no noise. He didn’t budge. Steev, though he was inflicting the pain on the poor, old man, looked like he was in equal amounts of agony. His helmet was missing, gloves removed from his hands, no hatred in his eyes; instead he practically pleaded with Wane. 
“Give up,” he begged. “Tell me what I want to know. Then we can both be free.”
Eddie tiredly relayed the visions to the others, who all voiced their concern. Especially Thalia, who offered to try and meditate with him so they could reach Wane together. So they could offer him the strength he would need to withstand the assault.
"He'll be okay," Eddie promised. He denied her again when she asked if he wanted to meditate for himself. "I'll be okay, too. Once we save him."
He kept to himself after that and ignored their watchful eyes and the ever-present worry that lingered in the air like a fart.
Maybe G'areth was ripping them to get Eddie to stop being such a mope.
"He's definitely doing it to try and get you to get up out of that seat." Jeff's voice broke through Eddie's thoughts and he looked up to find his friend sliding into the seat beside him.
He’d been sitting in the galley, picking at a late lunch. He’d tried to have lunch with the others and practically fell asleep into his food. Benny had sent him off to try and get some shut eye, but that hadn’t worked, and soon Eddie was back to poking his food.
"Did...did I say that out loud?" Eddie asked bashfully and pushed the unfinished plate away from him.
"Even if you hadn't, I'd probably still have come to tell you myself so the rest of us could be spared. I don't know what he ate but...phew." He shot a grin at Eddie, who couldn't help the quirk at the corner of his mouth. He wasn't able to manage much more than that. "We're a day away; we're almost there. It'll be okay. We'll save Wane, we'll beat those imps, and we'll escape. Back to band practice on Bogano in no time."
Eddie hummed. "You know, I thought Thalia would be the one to come in here and try to make me feel better."
He knew that his friends had their own worries about this whole situation; their families were back on Bracca too, at risk of being captured and questioned because of their associations with Eddie and Thalia. Bob volunteered to round them up while the others focused on Wane, which lightened some of the tension. But Eddie didn’t need his friends to coddle him while they carried the same burden.
"Excuse me, but I've known you for longer than she has,” Jeff reached out and lightly punched him in the arm. “I was the official Pep Talk Giver of the Dragonborn. After you, of course."
Eddie looked down at his feet.
"Besides, I think she has her own worries that she's working through and she doesn't want to upset you any more."
"Has she been having dreams, too?"
"She's your girlfriend, shouldn't you know?" Jeff teased, then added somberly, "She really hasn't said much today. Wouldn't even tell Dusty and BD a story when they asked. This is weighing on her. She's…blaming herself. She said..."
He trailed off and Eddie sent him a questioning glance.
"What did she say?" he pressed.
Jeff hesitated.
"She said it as a joke..." He wrung his hands together. "I'm pretty sure she did, at least."
"What did she say, Jeff?" Eddie repeated.
"She said that it might be easier just to turn herself in when we land on Bracca..."
Eddie was on his feet and out of the galley in an instant. He beelined straight for the bunk room at the back of the Mantis to find Thalia.
Hop vacated his bunk as Eddie strode in purposefully, muttering a quick good luck as he passed the younger man. The bunks were small, claustrophobic, and stacked upon one another, three bunks high. Thalia preferred the top bunk, but it wasn't so high that Eddie couldn't rest his arms on the edge. He watched as she lay, curled in on herself, and silently stared at her lightsaber.
"So we're both in the same funk, huh?" he asked.
Her eyes shifted towards him, then back, without a word.
"Oh, come on," he tried to keep his tone light, "I'm usually the grump out of the two of us. And it's up to you or the guys to get me out of it. When did you take over the title of 'chief pouting officer' aboard my ship?"
"Benny did," she said matter-of-factly. "He's seen me pout for a lot longer than you've known me. And we are aboard his ship, actually."
"Well carry on with the sad sackery, then." Eddie waited, a wry smile playing on his lips, but she didn't respond. He, of course, wouldn't accept that response, maneuvering up the small ladder attached to the bunks. "Alright, scoot over. I'm getting in."
Thalia protested lightly, but failed to hide her amusement as he shimmied into the overly-cramped bunk to lay facing her. He folded an arm under his head and then reached over and poked her in the cheek.
"What's bugging you, champ?"
She rolled her eyes, but answered, "Your uncle is in danger, you’re barely sleeping, and you're here trying to cheer me up. Doesn't seem right."
"Wane'll be in danger whether you're cheered up or not. I might as well try. Nothing we can do until we get there."
"When did you become the voice of reason?"
"Would you believe that I'm the most level-headed of my crew?"
"No."
"Then I won't lie." He inched closer. "You know, I've always been this...hot head. Ever since I was a kid. I blame my dad. Why? Because I blame him for everything. But there have only been a few people to get me to cool it. Wane, the guys, Dusty. But no one else. Until I met this Star Tours flight attendant who drove me crazy. Really. She drove me nuts. But she also helped me answer a lot of questions I had about my life and somehow, that mellowed me out a little."
"She sounds great," Thalia said with a monotone voice.
"She is pretty great." He poked her cheek again. "She's a pretty great kisser, too." He poked again, trying to get her to smile this time. "Come on."
She batted his hand away but still cracked a bit of a grin.
There was a moment of serene silence as they stared at one another.
"Jeff said you had this stupid idea," Eddie whispered. "That you were gonna turn yourself in to save Wane."
"It'd be better that way," Thalia explained.
"It'd be more cowardly that way," Eddie scoffed. “I say, we go in there, blasters blazing, and we kill Steev and save Wane.”
“I don’t want to kill him.”
“Well, why not? I’m sure he deserves it. He’s been putting my uncle through hell, I’d at least like to give him a black eye.”
“A black eye, maybe. But nobody deserves to die.” She sighed and ran a hand over her lightsaber. “I guess that’s the attitude that made me undesirable to the Jedi Order.”
"Come on! I know you say you're not a Jedi, but I know you've got a lot more fight in you than that. What is this…pacifistic load of bantha shit?"
"I'm not going to let you lose the only family you have left because you think I've got more fight in me!"
"You don’t know him. He wouldn't accept freedom if it meant someone else was in danger. And, believe me, he's going through it, but he's hanging on. He's not giving up without a fight. So neither can you."
Her eyes hardened. "I'm not giving up. I'll put up a fight. Once you and Wane are safe."
"Once Wane is safe," Eddie insisted with a scoff. "And once your old buddy Steev has an attitude adjustment, loses that chip on his shoulder."
He felt his heart ache because the words that fell from his lips sounded so much like his uncle's.
Wane had that matter-of-fact, no-nonsense, right-down-to-business way about him; how many times had he given Eddie an attitude adjustment because he was being a little shit? It was probably why Eddie stopped visiting home as much. He didn't behave as well as Wane had taught him to as he gallivanted about the galaxy, smuggling anything and everything that would line his pockets. He'd do anything to avoid that talking-to, even if it meant not seeing his uncle in so long.
Kriff, that was practically a lifetime ago. There was so much he had to tell Wane; this was a hell of a way to do it.
Thalia reached out this time, sensing his emotions and his thoughts, and laid a hand over his heart.
"We'll save him," she said resolutely. "I promise."
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Bracca, 10BBY
One of the worst things about Bracca was that it was a vast, rotting junkyard. Which meant that there were many places that the Inquisitors could keep Wane. Especially not when they wanted to lure Eddie and Thalia out into the open. But it also worked in their favor; Benny could hide the Mantis amongst the scrapped ships and the inquisitors wouldn’t be aware of their presence.
"If my ship gets scrapped," Benny grumbled as he stalked down the boarding ramp. "You're paying for it."
"We'll buy you a whole new ship," G'areth agreed, but Benny scoffed.
"You can't even buy yourselves a new ship."
Eddie and his friends had discussed all of the places that the Inquisitors and Wane could be as they'd come out of hyperspace. Bracca was home turf. Their families still lived there. They knew it like the back of their hand. But as they walked out into the wasteland of broken down starships, they realized that time and the Empire had eroded the world they once considered their playground.
Even the sky looked different. A vast and endless grey, full of hopelessness, as though they’d never see another sunny day again. Storm clouds hung, ready to unleash a tempest on the unsuspecting world below. There was also a dense fog—smog—that hung in the air. All of the exhaust of the ships that were brought there to die.
The crew of the Dragonborn all felt a collective sense of mourning that this was what had become of their home. Poisoned by the Empire that left it to rot, and by the Republic that let the decay begin in the first place.
D5-TN got uncharacteristically silent as he surveyed their surroundings. It was especially strange for him, having come from scrap heaps like this. He'd been found and rebuilt with the care of his friends; how many other droids had been left behind in these husks? Ships? Would that have been him if luck hadn't been on his side?
"It's okay." Jeff laid a hand on his dome, as if sensing the turmoil overloading Dusty's processor. "Don't think about it. We have a job to do."
Dustin beeped resolutely and, with one final swivel to survey the sea of metal surrounding him, rolled onwards.
Dustin hadn't been the only one with a heavy heart, though. Eddie was bogged down by worry. As they headed towards the Terrace, about an hour's walk from where they landed, he'd spent the time trying to recall everything he could remember from the Force visions. The room where Wane was being held. Any surroundings. Was there anything outside the window? Had there been a window?
He'd been so worried about what was happening to his uncle that he'd missed every other detail of his visions. He felt a bit of hatred burn deep inside of him, hatred and fear. It clouded his mind, and broke his ability to concentrate.
Fear for his uncle, hatred towards himself, fear for Thalia, hatred towards Steev. Hatred towards the Empire. That's what really deserved his hatred, and all the hatred in the Galaxy.
"You're projecting," Thalia whispered as she quickened her stride to fall into step beside him. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. "Hate leads to suffering. The Dark Side of the Force is driven by those impulsive, reactionary emotions and if you're not careful, it'll lead to your downfall."
"We don't have time for me to meditate the darkness away, sweetheart," Eddie sassed.
"I'm not telling you to banish the dark, I'm just telling you to be careful not to let it pull you into a spiral."
Eddie's brows shot upwards.
"If it wasn't for the darkness, we wouldn't be able to appreciate just how bright the light shines," she said with a sense of finality. She squeezed his hand again and shared her strength, her heart, her hope with him.
Yes. Hope. Light. Why hadn't he thought of that before?
Just like he could feel her, he would be able to feel Wane here, shining bright in the dank hopelessness of this planet. It might take a little while, but it would work. He was sure.
He closed his eyes and started with Thalia.
He felt her unique signature in the force there beside him. Calm and resonant and connected to him. From there, he branched out to the rest of their crew; he'd felt them all before, tested his abilities by identifying the little differences they all had. Even D5-TN had a spark about him. The little sparks traveling amidst his circuits were a different sign of life in the Force. Eddie was astounded by it.
He continued onwards, sensing each soul that lingered in the dark shadows of Bracca, the little pinpricks of inner starlight that created a vast sky behind his eyes. Galaxies formed, nebulous clusters; luminous beings in the darkness. It was beautiful. He'd never thought of his silly little home planet this way before. He knew better now.
He basked in the feeling, until he came across a singularity. A black hole, devoid of all light.
The Inquisitors.
Just like Thalia had said, the darkness had pulled them so deep, so far from the light that they were lost to it.
But there, beside them...one shining beacon.
Wane.
Eddie's eyes shot open.
"I know where they are."
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The Guild Supervisor's office sat on a platform high above the main scrapyard, overlooking the day-to-day operations as the looming silhouettes of decommissioned Star Destroyers stretched far into the horizon.
The only way to get there was by train, which they caught right as the afternoon shift ended. The work-weary scrappers sent cautious glances as they boarded, but they knew better than to ask questions. Eddie was almost grateful that there was an increased Imperial presence here, with so many strangers coming and going. It was another point in their favor as they tried to keep the element of surprise on their side.
D5-TN let out a low whistle as they all huddled together in a corner to avoid suspicion; didn't the Jedi wear cloaks to keep hidden? The Inquisitors and their dark troopers would be much more surprised if they had hoods.
"I don't think that's what their cloaks were for, bud," Thalia chuckled, earning a series of mournful beeps.
"We can just throw a tarp over you though and call it good enough." Dayv held his hand up for someone to high-five him for the joke, but yelped as Dustin's scomplink extended and sent a shock straight into the meat of his thigh.
"Hey," Hop scolded them gruffly. "Cut that out. We need to keep our wits about us. No more jokes, no in-fighting. We go in, we take care of those Imperial Bastards, we get your uncle, and then we get the hell off this damn planet."
Despite voluntarily joining their mission, Eddie knew he was getting nervous to be so far from his daughter.
One by one, scrappers filed out of the car, until their ragtag group were the only passengers left. As the train looped back towards the main worksite, there was a tense silence, fate looming just beyond the durasteel walls of the train.
It would be alright. They would save Wane. They would survive.
The train pulled up to its destination and they all got out. As soon as their heels were on solid ground, Eddie and Thalia's perception shifted with the nearby dark presence in the Force. Eddie realized that this was different than the fear of the simple presence of the Empire on Coruscant, and suddenly understood what Thalia felt when she'd recoiled at the arrival of the Inquisitors.
The Dark Side did not just instill fear; it was fear.
Fear and anger and passion and intuition and power; it was as heavy and roiling as the storm clouds that rumbled overhead. The feeling was so complex and paralyzing, but they didn't get a chance to get lost in the depths of it as blaster fire began peppering them from the path up ahead.
A handful of stormtroopers and Inquisitorium Dark Troopers lined the winding pathway up to the Supervisors office. As the train door slid shut behind them and it departed for its next destination, their group found themselves needing to engage in the fight instead of retreating.
Thalia took a defensive stance at the head of the group, her lightsaber ignited as she deflected bolts left and right. There was no other cover for them, no other place to go but ahead. Eddie was about to draw his own lightsaber and join her, but she was nimble on her feet and quick to anticipate. Each bolt fired at them ricocheted back towards the troopers in rapid succession.
Instead, Eddie joined the others on the offensive, choosing to pull his own blaster from its holster. He took calculated shots at their assailants, instead of the veritable salvo of opposing fire that Benny and Dayv, quick-draws that they were with their combined six hands, unleashed. They all worked as a team, until their path was clear.
"Let's go," Thalia barked, out of breath, as the last trooper dropped to the ground. The blade of her lightsaber retracted with a hiss as she turned back to them. "I'm sure there are more up ahead. And they have the high ground. We'll need to be careful."
"You be careful, kid," Hop huffed as he strode forward. He laid a hand on her shoulder for a second. "Why don't you let the pros handle the bucket heads? You save your strength for the rescue."
The Nikto gestured for Benny and the guys to fall in behind him as he continued up the ramp, and Thalia hung back until Eddie and D5-TN brought up the rear of the group.
"Hop's right," Eddie stated nervously as he took her in. Her shoulders heaved and hands shook. He'd been in such awe of the skill she'd shown during their lightsaber training that he hadn't really realized that her practice, let alone her knowledge, was limited. "You need to take it easy."
"I'll be okay," she assured him.
"You said it yourself, you weren't meant to be a soldier."
"And I'm not trying to be. But I'll protect them. Protect you. If and when I can. I've got your back, and I know you have mine too."
"Still, you need to be careful."
"You're acting like I'm walking headfirst into my own demise," she scoffed. "I am careful. I didn't survive this long just to get shot by a lucky stormtrooper."
However, she listened from that point on and took it easier. She didn’t immediately jump to the front as she had done before; thankfully, there was more cover the further they went, and only one or two shots necessitated lightsaber interference.
Eddie was even able to get his turn to play hero; he traded his blaster for his saber on instinct alone to prevent a sizzling bolt from hitting Jeff. He wondered at the feeling, his connection with the Force coursing through him as the bolt was deflected straight into a trooper’s chestplate. His friends all cheered for them too, with what little time they had to spare for the celebration.
"It's amazing how well we all work together," Jeff laughed. "We could be a little rebel crew for good, give up the smuggling life, and fight the Empire."
But Benny was quick to grumble, "Oh no, no. This is the only time I cross my line in the sand; it's supply runs and non-combat rescue missions only."
"Come on Ben," Thalia cut in. "I've brought you to worse places than this. You like adventure."
"Didn't you tell me once that Jedi don't seek adventures? You wanna fight the Empire full time? I'll let these guys have my ship and spend my retirement slinging hash on Bogano."
The last words were forced out in a grunt as they rounded a corner and found, not only the final squadron of troopers, but the entrance to the Supervisor's Office. Benny shouted "you see what I mean?" before engaging them.
There were more troopers there than there had been along the way, guarding the final stretch to the Inquisitors, to Wane.
Eddie could feel him, right there, on the other side of that door.
If he thought about it, he could see the wry smile and the crinkles at the corners of his uncle's eyes when they'd finally spot each other, after so long. He could feel the pride Wane would have at knowing Eddie came to rescue him.
And so, despite the crossfire and his friends shouting his name, he made a run for it.
Lightsaber swinging in one hand, blaster firing in the other.
The force would protect him.
Right?
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If Eddie hadn't believed it to be a trap before, he was certainly sure it was now.
In hindsight running in here like that was a stupid move, but he'd never really been that good at impulse control.
As the pneumatic double doors of the office shut behind him, his weapons were pulled from his grasp, and he found himself standing there, trapped and unarmed. Face to face with the two Imperial Inquisitors, their glowing red blades illuminating their faces.
"Eddie Moonsun, in the flesh." Steev—Second Brother—greeted, voice hollow.
Although Thalia had refrained from referring to him by name, Eddie had always kept the younger version of the man in mind. Steev: a jovial and caring friend, a Jedi Padawan simply led astray. Even during the visions where he tortured Wane, he’d always been Steev. Now, however, standing before him was the Second Brother in the flesh.
With his helmet still removed, he was stiff. Jaw clenched, and dead behind the eyes. In fact, his eyes looked sunken and red-rimmed, and he was gaunt. A walking dead man. It was a harsh and sudden dissonance, and Eddie recoiled at the sight of him, felt his signature in the force sucking, draining all the light in the room.
Thalia's words about the Dark Side consuming you echoed in his head.
"Right on time," the female inquisitor said with a tight smile, pulling Eddie's attention away from her counterpart. And as terrible as Second Brother looked and felt, she was the more startling of the two. Tall and lithe with red skin that seemed to glow along with her lightsaber, like she was made of that same burning plasma. If Steev felt like exhaustion, she felt like anger. She burned, like a dwarf star fighting as it collapsed in on itself . "Thought you'd never make it."
He looked beyond them, then, to Wane, restrained in a high back chair. If only to spare himself from feeling the terrible darkness they exuded.
Physically, Wane was unharmed, but Eddie knew that his uncle was good at hiding any pain or illness to keep him from worrying. If he reached out through the force, just enough...yes, he could feel the lingering pain and fear within.
Eddie ground his teeth, but tried to keep his cool, as he finally spoke. ”See, I thought we were being fashionably late. Stopped to get a quick sandwich at the Terrace, but the Grill was closed. Sorry Wane, no Tip Yip wrap for you."
Despite the wrinkle in his brow, Wane couldn't help but crack a small smile at Eddie's antics.
See? He was fine. Nothing to worry about.
"I will be taking my Uncle home, though. Old man probably missed his bedtime. So if you could so kindly release him," he continued. "I'll even let you keep my knick knacks. Bartering is pretty common on Bracca, seeing as the Empire doesn't pay that well. Oh, and if you could let your boss know that; a formal complaint."
He choked on the last words.
No, not from emotion; he actually choked on them. He felt phantom fingers constrict around his windpipe as they tipped his head upward, and pulled him until he was practically standing on his toes.
The female inquisitor raised her free hand as he was lifted upwards and she grit her teeth at the effort of using the force. "Silence."
Eddie, not one to be told what to do, still tried to force words out in defiance but his throat got tighter, uncomfortably so. Tight enough to cause spots to appear in his vision.
Well, what a pathetic way to die. He'd spent all this time training and he wouldn't even die in a lightsaber battle. That would've been pretty wizard.
"Thirteenth Sister," Steev hissed at her, but she didn't listen. His tone got sharp. "Iskat. Stop."
The invisible grip was released, and Eddie dropped to his knees, coughing on the great gulps of air that he greedily sucked in. He held a hand to his throat, trying to feel for any physical effects of the Force choke, and looked up to see the two inquisitors growling at each other.
"We need him alive."
"We can go out there and get her. Kill this old man and their friends, kill them both, and be done with this."
"Stand down Iskat. This is my mission. My victory."
"This is your weakness, Steev."
The pneumatic doors behind Eddie suddenly opened with the cacophony of blaster fire from the skirmish outside, and in ran Thalia with impeccable timing. She, unlike Eddie, had only one weapon poised to attack: a blaster, surprisingly.
She fired one pointed shot at the two inquisitors, a fury of sizzling blue light—a stun shot—that Steev was able to dodge, but it sent a shocked Iskat to the ground, unconscious.
”Huh,” Thalia said breathlessly. “Didn’t expect that to work.”
Eddie looked up at her, about to open his mouth to say something snarky, but he didn’t get a chance. Thalia let out a yelp and dropped the blaster. In a flash, her lightsaber was drawn and ignited as a burning red blade swiped downwards.
The two sabers clashed together just inches from Eddie’s face, forcing him to drop to the ground and scramble backwards to avoid having his skull sliced in half.
The atmosphere in the room changed; if Steev had felt dead before, he was alight with anger now. Had he adopted Iskat’s rage as she had been knocked out? Or had his feelings simply been dormant until the sight of Thalia stoked them to an inferno.
"I've been waiting a long time for this," he sneered at her.
"I can't say the same," she replied through gritted teeth.
She pushed forward, knocking him slightly off balance, but he recovered quickly, taking several wild slashes towards her, each slash and thrust of his saber powerful and unforgiving and meant to maim. To kill. But she was quick and purposeful with each block and parry. Economical in her movements to keep herself from getting tired too quickly.
Eddie was temporarily distracted by the blinding flashes of red and blue, and the concussions in Force that reverberated with each strike; this fight was not just physical, it was emotional too. Steev's hatred for Thalia, and Thalia's forgiveness towards herself and towards Steev.
But which one would be strong enough to win out over the other?
However, he quickly remembered the reason they were here. His eyes slid past the two former members of the Jedi Order to his uncle; he didn't hesitate to get to his feet and make his way across the office to the older man.
"Hey Uncle Wane," he greeted, slightly out of breath. "Good to see you."
"What the hell is going on here, son?" Wane muttered.
"I think it's pretty self explanatory, no?" he asked, blindly gesturing behind him and wincing at the sound of the lightsabers clashing again. "But let's get you out of here and I'll explain the rest later, alright?"
He stared at the binders around Wane's wrists and closed his eyes; he sensed the mechanisms within them, and with a wave of his hand, they came undone. 
"Hah," he chuckled and opened his eyes. "Wizard, I'm glad that worked."
"Wha...how did you...Eddric," Wane stumbled over his words.
"I can explain later, let's get you out of here."
He helped Wane to his feet; the older man was a little weak, limping slightly, but was able to stand and walk on his own. 
When Eddie looked back towards Thalia and Steev, though, he grimaced. With thoughts of his uncle's escape momentarily forgotten, he watched the way Thalia maneuvered herself and Steev around. Although Steev was on the offensive, she was purposefully shifting and stepping in such a way, manipulating their fight so his attention wouldn't turn to Eddie and Wane.
To the untrained eye it was just to protect them, but it didn't take much for him to sense her intention; she was accepting this fight was hers and hers alone. Eddie and Wane were just bystanders and she wasn't going to let them become collateral damage.
He could tell it was starting to take its toll on her; even though she was trying to save her energy, she was getting tired, physically and mentally, as she kept splitting her attention between her adversary and them. She wasn't able to get her own strikes in at all, and Eddie didn’t need force abilities or gut feelings to know that if something didn’t change, she would lose this fight.
"There's not a back door to this place is there?" he asked Wane.
"Pretty sure there is," Wane nodded.
"Will you forgive me if I do something really stupid?"
"As long as you don't get yourself killed."
"Ehhh, can't promise that."
Wane sighed for a moment then put his hand on Eddie's shoulder. "I'll always forgive you, and I'll always support your decisions."
"Then you get yourself out of here so you don't watch me make some bad ones."
Wane clapped his hand on Eddie's shoulder twice, then limped towards the back of the office, through a set of pneumatic doors, then another, before they slid shut behind him.
Eddie closed his eyes again, this time to center himself, before he reached out and called his lightsaber into his hand. He blinked and the green blade ignited with a roar.
"Hey, laser face!" Eddie shouted, distracting Steev just enough for Thalia to push his lightsaber away and get a swift, hard, left hook in. Her fist connected with Steev's cheek, sending him stumbling into the center of the room. "Ouch. That was a cheap shot, sweetheart."
"I thought you were setting me up for it," Thalia replied breathlessly and shrugged. She spun her lightsaber and shifted into a more offensive stance.
"Shut up!" Steev shouted and stood, ramrod straight. He shook with rage, and his voice got dangerously low. "Shut. Up."
"Oh, come on," Eddie scoffed at him. "What are you so grumpy about? Not only do you have the opportunity to kill your arch-nemesis here..." He gestured to Thalia. "But you can cross another force sensitive bastard off your list too. This is like Life Day and Boonta Eve all at once. Why don't you calm down, Big Boy?"
Steev was thrown by the name for a moment, but had the audacity to growl at him.
“How about we make a deal?” Eddie continued. “We call it even and you let us go. We pretend this never happened, you never have to see us again, and you can pretend that we’re dead. How does that sound?”
“What if you both give yourselves up,” Steev bit out a counter offer. “Neither of you have to die by my hand, but you’re left to the mercy of the Emperor.”
Eddie sucked a breath through his teeth. “That doesn’t sound like a deal.”
“You’re friends can go free, too.” Steev added.
“Unfortunately,” Thalia interjected. “We can’t accept it. I need to keep them safe, Steev. All of them.”
“Well, then I think you know exactly what your fate will be.” He spun his saber and stood at the ready.
Thalia's eyes shifted past Steev, directly at Eddie, and sent him a questioning glance that asked “was he ready for this?”
Time stilled as he questioned whether or not he was. 
He’d been working on his abilities, but had only trained with a lightsaber for one day. He could trust in the Force, but he was not a fighter. Not a Jedi. This was a real fight, with high stakes—life or death. But Thalia wasn’t any of those things either; despite the fact that she was certainly more knowledgeable in the Force than him, she was at a grave disadvantage here too. It didn’t matter how ready either of them were, they were here and needed to fight, needed to try.
He nodded to Thalia and then stood at the ready.
Thalia moved first. She feigned an attack, causing Steev to attempt to defend and that's when Eddie struck, hard and purposefully. Steev turned quickly, able to slash his saber upwards to deflect with ease. "You didn't think it was gonna be that easy, did you?" Steev taunted as he pushed Eddie away.
"Two against one," Eddie shrugged. "Seems like good odds."
Steev let out a bark of laughter. "Never tell me the odds." He rolled his shoulders back and then struck swiftly with an attack of his own that Eddie was barely able to dodge.
Steev was unforgiving with his strikes toward Eddie and Thalia. Every attempt they made at getting the upper hand against him was useless. They blocked, he struck harder. They struck, he parried. Over and over.
He didn't seem to tire either, his anger and determination fueled his actions. Every time his red saber clashed with one of theirs, a wave of hatred and anger and bloodlust reverberated down their blades and straight into them. Eventually, tired of the game of cat and mouse, he used the force, sending a shockwave outward that sent them tumbling to the ground. 
Seeing Eddie as the weak link between the two of them, he turned his attention to the smuggler and slashed downwards repeatedly, heavy and unforgiving. As Eddie held his saber overhead to defend himself, he felt his arm getting weaker, until he was disarmed altogether. He closed his eyes, resigned to this fate, as Steev lifted his saber over his head, ready for a killing blow. 
He grinned wickedly down at Eddie, before glancing over his shoulder to Thalia as she called out in shock.
"I don't know how you expected to teach this guy to be a Jedi," he jeered. "You only brought him here to die."
"He's strong in the force," Thalia said, desperately.
"His blood will be on your hands, just like the others."
"Strong in the light," she ignored him, and pushed herself back to her feet. "Unlike you."
Eddie was shocked that her distraction worked and Steev’s attention moved to her. She effectively let herself be cornered as he turned his back on Eddie.
"And how would you know?" Steev scoffed at her. "What would you know about the Force? About the light? You’re no one, nothing. You didn't even finish your training; the Jedi didn’t want you. Meanwhile, I've been practicing every day. I'm a master of the force. I'm the Grand Inquisitor's right hand."
"That just means you've gotten cocky," Thalia sneered. "I don't know what I should expect. You always thought you were better than the other Padawans."
"I was better than them," came the growled response. "I was stronger. I was powerful. I survived."
In the blink of an eye Thalia was on her feet. She reignited her saber and slashed it across Steev’s undefended chest, burning through his light armor. He yelped and stumbled backwards, holding his free hand to the singed graze across his sternum.
He looked up at Thalia, dumbfounded, then ground his teeth together and lunged for her.
Eddie watched, rendered immobile from shock, as they were back at it again. They practically danced around each other.  Strike, strike, turn, dodge, parry, strike. It would be exciting to witness if his damned heart wasn't lodged in his throat.
He cast himself forward through the Force, offering Thalia as much strength that he could offer.
But it wasn't enough.
Steev was driven by anger, by pain. Each blow was devastating. Not just emotionally; the beams of plasma sparked each time they crossed. His intention was to kill.
And Thalia was as good as she could be, but not as good as she needed to be to hold her own against him. She faltered once, just once. Let her guard down for a split second, out of exhaustion, but allowed Steev to return the blow that she dealt to him.
The red blade of his saber slashed across her abdomen. Burning, sparking, digging deep into her flesh.
Eddie screamed as she crumpled and fell backwards, hitting the floor with an oomph; he felt, through the channel he'd opened to send her his strength, how much agony she was in. He felt it burn across his midsection too, the phantom, stinging, throb. There was a loud ringing in his ears, his vision doubled; he screamed and tears dripped down his cheeks. He let his own head fall back and hit the ground as her signature in the force got fainter and fainter.
He breathed heavily as grief filled him; they'd made it this far, she'd made it this far. Only for Steev to cut her down in the name of revenge.
And now she was dead.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than he felt that familiar spark of light within her. He could still feel the shallow rise and fall of her chest. It was weak, but it was there.
Beating along with the throbbing wound. He never thought he would be so grateful for pain before, because if he could feel her pain, it meant she was alive.
But her pain, her light, wasn’t the only thing he sensed.
It grew, across his sternum, a dull and shallow cut. Aching and heavy. And beneath that, in the hollow of his chest, right beside his own life force, he sensed another. It flickered, swirled with shadows and darkness; like a cloud-filled night, the shadows shifted and revealed a tiny spark of light that pulsed, unsure, through the Living Force that connected them all.
Steev.
At first, he thought it was impossible, but he lifted his head and watched as the Inquisitor visibly changed before him. The man's posture slumped, as he towered over Thalia's prone, injured form. The hand that held his lightsaber trembled; his whole body trembled, actually. At this distance, Eddie could barely tell what he whispered to himself, the low timbre of his voice reverberated across the room.
"She betrayed me," he muttered. "She deserves it."
There was a beat.
"It's justice. It's what's right."
Another beat.
"Do it. Do it."
Steev beat his free hand against the wound on his chest, causing his pain to flare. 
And Eddie felt it too. Pain. Fear. Strength. They pushed out the doubt that was slowly creeping into Steev’s being. Eddie let the swirl of emotions fill him, but then he felt an intense clarity overtake him. An intense anger. His own anger. All Second Brother had wanted was for Thalia to die; all he’d wanted was revenge. And now he couldn’t do it? Now he was doubting himself?
Eddie let himself sink into his anger as the darkness in Steev fought with the light, and what he saw caused him to spiral further.
The doubt sparked more within Steev. Remorse, uncertainty, and grief. There were flashes of images, memories of Steev doing one dark deed after another without hesitation at the Grand Inquisitor and Emperor’s will. They all culminated in this mission, this hunt. Outpost 86, then Coruscant, now Bracca; slowly but surely his humanity returned to him. And at the end of it all, there was a voice. A familiar voice—Wane—weary and breathless, telling Steev, “it’s alright, you don’t need to do this, son.” The words repeated themself before each bout of torture he was put through.
Even now, with Wane away and safe, the sentiment seemed to stick with Steev, as he battled the deep-seated anger within him.
Eddie knew that his uncle was a voice of reason; he’d been his voice of reason many times throughout the years. His uncle’s love and support had been the only thing that kept him tethered and prevented him from going off the deep-end so many times in this shit-hole of a galaxy.
But Steev had used Wane as a means to get him here. To get Thalia here. And now—after he’d tortured a poor old man, after he’d tried to kill Eddie, and as Thalia suffered at his hand—he was feeling some remorse?
No. Bad was bad, and a villain was a villain. There was no remorse, no redemption.
Eddie, who often found himself in many moral grey areas, wasn't about to watch this bastard change his mind with no repercussions. What was he going to do after he graciously spared them all? Betray the Empire altogether and kill the emperor single-handedly?
There was something deep and raw inside of Eddie that forced him to push himself upright, and get to his feet. Rage, distress, or a desperate need to get Thalia to safety? Maybe all three. He couldn't know for sure. But it told him to take advantage of the turmoil within Steev and to leave his lightsaber on the ground, it told him exactly where to step so his footsteps stayed silent, and it told him to launch himself the remaining distance until he landed on Steev's back, with his arms locked around the Inquisitor's neck.
Steev lurched forward and let out a shocked noise as Eddie taunted in his ear. "Didn't your Grand Inquisitor tell you never to turn your back on an enemy?"
The Inquisitor growled and bucked, lashed out with his lightsaber to try and slash at Eddie, but Eddie held steadfast. He tightened one arm around Steev's neck and wrapped the other around the flailing arm, wrenching it backwards until there was a sickening snap. Steev released the lightsaber and howled at the pain.
Refusing to give up, though, he took several steps backwards, each one propelled by the Force, until he could slam Eddie into the durasteel wall to try and release himself from the grapple.
Once. Twice. Each time his back struck the wall, Eddie felt like the air was forced from his lungs. He tightened his arm around Steev's neck and hissed.
Steev took several steps forward and then rammed himself back against the wall one last time; finally, Eddie released him and fell back limply.
Steev held his uninjured arm out and called his lightsaber back to him, and Eddie did the same, just in time for the red blade to clash with his green one. Sparks flew but both men held strong, neither willing to let up.
"You could've taken the kriffing deal," Eddie said through gritted teeth.
"I'd rather die," Steev grumbled.
Well, Eddie could make that happen if he really wanted.
On instinct, Eddie's leg shot out and the heel of his boot hit the instep of Steev's leg, causing him to falter. The Inquisitor stumbled backwards, letting Eddie stand tall and really take advantage of the upper hand.
On they went, lightsabers clashing. Their fight even took them out of the office, through the pneumatic doors, and onto the landing that overlooked the decaying junkyards below. Eddie’s friends were gone, as were the troopers, leaving the two of them alone to fight as the sky overhead unleashed a torrential rain.
Their boots slid on the slick concrete, but they both held their own.
Being the more injured of the two, Steev struggled and faltered, but Eddie was unskilled in the lightsaber. He could hear Steev’s thoughts echo loudly through the force. They repeated form and stance and attack sequences unknown to Eddie. He felt the prickle of doubt in the depths of his stomach more than once, but then he remembered Thalia's lessons. He remembered his own acceptance to learn these newfound abilities.
He only had his gut feelings, and his trust in the force. And that was all he needed.
With that trust, he reached a flow state. His lightsaber was an extension of himself, every move made on instinct. He was able to resist every time Steev used a trick or a special flourish of his blade to try and distract him. He was able to hold his own against a man who had been raised in the Jedi Order.
To any onlooker, he should've been cut down from the beginning.
A skilled force-user, a Jedi-turned-Inquisitor. Versus a...nothing, a scrapper kid from this wasteland of a planet.
To Eddie, though, it meant only one thing: The Force wanted him to prevail.
It made him feel powerful. He would be victorious. The hero of this story.
Filled with a newfound determination, he pulled his shoulders back and pushed forward. He struck once, twice, and a third time. He gave Steev a run for his money. Didn't give him a chance to recover. Pushed him back further and further, until Steev's boots slid against the edge of the platform.
The Inquisitor faltered at the feeling of nothingness beneath the edge of his heels; it threw him off so much that he lost his grip on his lightsaber and it flew from his hand, down to the worksite below.
Disarmed, he held his uninjured arm ahead of him, poised to use the Force to hold Eddie back, as the other was tucked close to his body.
He looked weak. Pathetic. Tired.
“You don’t need to do this,” Steev tried reasoning, using the words that echoed in his head against his opponent, instead of simply letting them haunt him alone.
Eddie gnashed his teeth together and scoffed.
“Is that what you told yourself before you tortured my uncle?” He gestured back towards the entrance of the office. “Is that what you said when you were debating whether to kill Thalia or not?”
Steev huffed a weak laugh and hung his head, then glanced up at him with dark eyes. “Kill me, then. Strike me down, since you think you’re better than I am. Since she clearly taught you that blood shed by someone basking in the light is justified.” He waited for Eddie to make a move, but when no strike came, he shouted. “Do it! Kill me! I’m already dead!”
Steev curled the fingers of his outstretched hand, and Eddie was dragged forward, close enough that his lightsaber grazed the side of Steev’s throat.
“Do it,” Steev hissed again.
Eddie was about to.
He could've ended this once and for all, if pulled his saber across Steev's throat, they could make a getaway. Continue the work Thalia had started alongside the Hidden Path or simply hide on Bogano until the Empire toppled, as Empires were prone to do.
They'd be safe.
So why couldn't he get himself to push the blade just a few more inches and end Steev’s life?
Because you're a good man, Eddie Moonsun.
Thalia had said that to him the first time they had met. Before they'd known anything about each other, before they'd taken this ridiculous journey together. She saw the good in him, saw the light. She believed in him.
She'd gotten him to believe in himself, too.
If he struck Steev down like he wanted to, like Steev himself wanted him to, then he became just as bad as Steev was. Doing what he wanted, instead of doing what was right.
"When to move," Eddie muttered. He lowered his lightsaber and deactivated it with a satisfying shhk. "And when to stay still. I can't kill you. Like you said, you're already dead."
He took several steps back and watched as Steev slumped further. He turned his back towards the Inquisitor to go check on Thalia, missing the way Steev's head snapped up. He charged towards Eddie.
And Steev was quick, but Eddie was quicker.
He dodged the blow Steev tried to land on him, and was able to activate his lightsaber quickly enough to slash across Steev's back, cutting through muscle from the side of his torso, up and across, to his already-injured shoulder.
Steev flailed and stumbled forward, skidding across the durasteel to the opposite edge of the platform, then over it.
"No!"
The pneumatic doors opened, revealing Thalia, who ran to the edge of the platform, and practically jumped over the side after her former friend. Eddie, stunned, faltered for a moment, before running after her; he threw his lightsaber to the side and then lept to try and keep her from sliding too far.
She cried out, both at the feeling of being crushed by Eddie's weight atop her and at the friction against her injuries. But she was still able to throw both of her hands out. Using all of her might and strength in the force, she held Steev's unconscious form aloft, dangling over the worksite far below.
"What are you doing?!" Eddie shouted at her.
"I can't...we can't..." She huffed at the exertion, voice weak. "We can't let him die. Eddie, help me."  She looked over her shoulder at him. "Please."
He felt rage build up in his chest.
He’d already tried to let Steev go free once, spared his life out on the ledge, and the idiot had tried to backstab him. He deserved what he got.
"Why should I?" Eddie shouted, teeth gritting in anger. "He hurt you, almost killed you. Could have killed my uncle and my friends. Our friends. Just like he killed your friends, and, I'm sure, countless others since then. He attacked me, tried to kill me, and I defended myself. He wants to die. He deserves to die."
“No one deserves to die!” She fought. “I told you that before! Listen to yourself!”
“You should listen to yourself, Thalia," Eddie strained. "He tried to kill you, and has been wanting revenge for half your life. And you want to...what? Give him another chance? So he can try and kill you again?"
"He could've," she whimpered. "But he didn't. There's good in him. Just like there's good in you, in all of us. You were already going to spare him. If you let him die now, you become just as bad as he became. Help me Eddie. Please.
"I can't lose you to the darkness like I lost him. I can't lose you too."
His eyes shut at the desperation, the strain, in her voice, and those words echoed in his ears.
She couldn't lose him? Well, he couldn't lose her either. They'd both already lost so much. Their homes, their lives, their purpose. But they'd found new ones, found each other. They'd come so far.
She'd trusted him, believed in him, even when he was being a bantha-brained, scruffy, foolish scoundrel.
Even when he'd been a stranger.
He’d trusted her too, even when he didn’t want to.
Why shouldn't he trust her now?
He pushed himself forward, shifting his body until his head rested against her shoulder, and he could stretch his arm out alongside hers. His fingers caressed the back of her hand softly, then he held his own hand out, ready to help her lift this impossible burden.
And it was an impossible burden.
As Eddie reached out and felt the familiarity of Thalia's strength in the Force, he sensed the sheer weight of Steev's body—his soul—that hung over the precipice. Singularities, black holes...they held an unimaginable mass; it was impossible to know just how deep and dark they were. Although he'd seen Steev's darkness waning, it still pulled him under.
He could feel it pull Thalia down, too, as she got weaker.
So he envisioned his own strength, his own light, and lent it to her, to help anchor hers; together they moved, like the rising twin suns back on Bogano. He imagined their hands scooping beneath Steev, and together, he and Thalia hauled him upwards.
And the higher they lifted him, the lighter he got, until he floated right beside them.
Then they all collapsed in a lifeless heap.
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Hyperspace, 10BBY
Almost everyone aboard the Mantis was on edge at the addition of an Imperial Inquisitor aboard, even though he was unarmed, unconscious, and fully submerged in the bacta tank down in the medbay.
Benny and Bob trusted Thalia implicitly. Even Hoppor didn't object.
"As long as El stays safe," he grumbled. "I'll be keeping my eye on him. Not in the business of taking risks."
For most of the trip back to Bogano, he sat in an uncomfortable chair in front of the Bacta tank, watching for any unexpected movement with his blaster rifle across his lap.
The crew of the Dragonborn made their objections known, though, bothering Thalia every chance they got.
"What if he has a tracker on him?" Jeff questioned. "The Empire is gonna follow us and we'll be toast."
"We just got our families safe." G'areth gestured to the group of elderly parents and handful of siblings who were huddled in the galley with bowls of porridge and cups of caf, courtesy of Benny and his constant need to feed everyone.
"He doesn't have a tracker on him," Thalia insisted. "And they're not going to find us. We're safe. I have a gut feeling; just trust me."
"You're starting to sound like Ed." Dayv let out a sardonic chuckle and then looked to their captain. "What do you think about all this?"
Eddie stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest; he was still conflicted about the whole thing. Once he got back to the ship and made sure Wane was alright, he began to feel a creeping sense of guilt. Sure, he didn't let Steev die, but he hadn't exactly acted in any way that Wane would've been proud of either.
Shit, it didn't even matter if Wane would've been proud of it; he wasn't proud of himself. He would go to whatever lengths necessary to protect his family and friends, but he'd gone too far. It had all gone to his head, the sense of fulfillment and the power.
"Does it matter what I think?" he grumbled and turned away from the others, feigning disinterest.
Dayv scoffed. "Yeah, it does!"
"You're the one who dragged his body onboard," G'areth pointed out. "Both of them! Thalia was practically dead on her feet! I'm gonna assume that you didn't do that to her. Ergo—"
"Oh, ergo? Big words, G'ar," Eddie mocked. He pushed himself off the wall and approached his friend, stepping as close as he could, until their noses practically touched. "You think I decided to bring Mr. Bright Suns onboard? Think again, moof milker. And if I was in the business of bringing dangerous people on board, I would've hauled the other Inquisitor in here too. Two-for-one sale on Imperial prisoners."
"There were two of them?!"
Everyone started clamoring over one another, trying to get their thoughts and opinions in. They debated how safe they really were, if they needed to find a new planet to escape to altogether. Jeff even shouted something about ejecting Steev from the airlock. They shifted their attention between Thalia, who held steadfast and silent, and Eddie, who snarked and sassed his way through the barrage of questions and comments.
A sharp whistle brought them all to silence.
Everyone's head snapped towards Wane, who sat otherwise unassumingly with a steaming cup of caf in his hands. He even took a long slurp before sighing. "We all deserve to know what the hell is going on and have our safety ensured. Our lives were all just upended, after all. But my nephew and Miss Trieste here just risked their lives to save me." He looked to G'areth, Jeff, and Dayv's families. "Hell, all of your kids did. So I reckon they're not exactly thinking about the long-term just yet."
There was a collective muttering in agreement.
"I'm not too keen on having an Imperial agent on board this ship," Wane continued. "But...well, believe me, that man and his associate had me tied up for days. They might've done awful things to me, but I still saw living beings there. They could've killed me when I didn't give them information, but they didn't. He's a living, breathing man with pain...and regret.
"So instead of resorting to mob violence—" He shot Jeff a pointed glare. "—let's focus on healing him up, understanding who he is and why he did what he did. Then we can decide whether he's a threat or not."
Everyone spoke over one another, in support and agreement. In apology. Then they finished their breakfast and dispersed around the ship to various makeshift bunks.
"How're you feeling, old man?" he asked.
"I'm doing alright," Wane nodded as he lifted his cup to his lips. "Confused. Overwhelmed. But alright."
"Good." Eddie nodded. "Good."
They both avoided the inevitable discussion that awaited them.
Why the Empire had been looking for Eddie, why they'd gotten Wane involved, and how Eddie had suddenly shown up with a lightsaber and abilities he hadn't had before.
It was a weighty discussion and they'd barely had a chance to talk since they'd been on the Mantis. The last time they'd seen each other—the last time they'd even talked via holocall—felt like several lifetimes ago. He was barely the same person he was last year, and he hadn't seen Wane in the flesh in 5? Maybe more?
He knew they needed more time than just a few scant minutes of privacy aboard a crowded ship.
Wane, though, seemed to get over his hesitation, and he finally asked, "How did you become a fugitive from the Empire, son? I thought I taught you better than that."
"You do know that the guys and I were smuggling before this, right? You didn't think we were gonna get into trouble?" He snorted nervously, but straightened under his uncle's stern gaze.
"I taught you to lie low. Even when the Republic was still in power."
"I know."
"Suddenly imperial agents with red lightsabers are showing up to ask me about your whereabouts. Felt like when superintendent Hig-Gins comm'd to tell me you and the boys had skipped classes at the Institute."
The older man cracked a wry smile and then took another sip of caf, lessening Eddie's worries about being in trouble.
"Why aren't you mad?" he asked his uncle. "W-why did you do that whole show of...of tolerance with the others? He and the other Inquisitor tortured you for days."
Wane sighed. "Lots of people have done me wrong over the years, Ed. And I used to be hot-headed about it. Just like you. But I came to the realization that they might be feeling some kind of hurt. Or loss. Or misguidedness. And that I should offer them the grace that they were incapable of showing me."
Eddie hummed thoughtfully, but Wane continued. "It's why I welcomed your dad home every single time he came back to Bracca. It's why I made sure that you saw the best he had to give you. You didn't deserve to see a father that was broken beyond repair. And he didn't deserve to have a son who hated him."
"But I did hate him," Eddie argued. "I do."
"Do you?" Wane sniffed. "You used to smile brighter than the suns when he came home. Or do you just pity him now that you know better?"
Eddie sat back in his seat and kept his mouth shut. He knew his feelings, his anger. But he also knew that Wane was right.
"Same goes for that man down in the medbay." Wane gestured towards the hall. "The Empire is just a big machine and he was part of it. But then he took his helmet off and he was a human. I wouldn't have ever given you up, Ed, but I saw the pain in his eyes every time he tried to get a word out of me. That wasn't a man who wanted to hurt me. It was a man who had no other choice."
Eddie thought about the hate emanating off Steev during that confrontation with Thalia. How was that no other choice? Eddie might've hurt people before. Smuggling was a tough job, the galaxy a hard place. But he'd never been angry enough to intentionally kill someone; to hurt them, to end their life.
Not until he'd seen Steev hurt Thalia and Wane.
He shook that dark feeling away and reminded himself that they were alive, they were safe.
"And if he killed me?" he snapped at his uncle. "What then? Would he still be a man with no other choice? A man in pain? Could you forgive him then?"
Wane's gaze hardened. "I might not forgive him. But if he had remorse? Regret? It has to count for something."
There was a moment of silence as Eddie let those words simmer.
"Does it?" he finally asked softly.
"It does."
"Hmmm..."
There was a lot he needed to think about.
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Bogano, 10BBY
To say that a hero's welcome waited for them when they returned to Bogano would be an understatement.
Their friends were all ready and waiting as the Stranger Mantis touched down at the edge of camp. Benny and Bob waved to them from the cockpit and then Benny joked that they must've unloaded every crate and box in Eno Cordova's old workshop to make some of the decorations that littered the camp.
There were garlands made with old cables, nuts, bolts, and spare parts. Tarps of various colors covered their makeshift mess tables. They'd even thought of music; Hop's favorite band—Blootopian Blues—came from a loudspeaker that Jonathan had sliced a datapad into.
At first, Joyce tried to wrangle them all to keep them safe as a group of unfamiliar faces were the first to exit the ship. But before long, the crew of the Dragonborn joined and eagerly and excitedly introduced their family members.
Jeff had a younger brother around Na'ancee and Jonathan's age, G'areth's mother quickly struck up a conversation with Joyce, and Dayv's grandfather happened to have a pocket full of candies that he excitedly shared with all of the younglings.
"Poppa, were those really a necessity?" Dayv scolded the elderly man as he handed out the sweets. They'd been told to pack light.
"Guess you boys are going to have to smuggle some more Tapasi Taffy for old Poppa, huh?"
"Sarcasm runs in the family," Hoppor joked before hurrying to find El in the crowd.
Bob took charge and led the newcomers to their new living spaces; Joyce and the kids had done a good job setting up extra tents, but it seemed that they would need to get more supplies. Especially if Bogano was going to become more of a permanent home for them all.
"What about credits?" Wane questioned as he was corralled into his new living quarters. It was the same tent that Eddie and his friends lived in; another bed was set up for him beside Eddie's.
"What about the credits, he asks." Bob snorted and clapped a hand on Wane's shoulder. "Mr. Moonsun, you're on an undiscovered planet with a Force-wielding outlaw, her group of youngling students, your smuggler son and his smuggler friends, having just escaped a kidnapping from Imperial Inquisitors hoping to kill you all. And you're wondering ‘what about credits?’"
"Fair point." Wane nodded and settled down to unpack his things.
Benny, although tired, promised a feast for them all. 
“And then someone else can make breakfast in the morning,” he said with a laugh. “I take my caf with extra cream, and if anyone wants to make me some blue milk porridge with dried fruit? I wouldn’t say no.”
G’areth saluted him and agreed.
In all the commotion, there was one face pointedly missing.
Eddie looked for Thalia everywhere; he thought that her solitude aboard the Mantis would end once they arrived. The kids all wanted to see her, wanted to hear about the adventure from both of them, and he thought she should be around when he broke the news about their unexpected guest to everyone in camp.
It wasn’t until he’d checked her quarters that he realized that she must still be aboard the Mantis.
He snuck into the medbay as quietly as he could; there was no other place that she could be. Actually, he’d thought to look back in the bunkroom, but had been lured down by the binary conversation going back and forth between BD-1 and D5-TN.
He stood and watched as Thalia sat in the chair, and held BD-1 in her lap. Meanwhile, D5-TN was in front of the Bacta tank, nervously rolling back and forth. The two droids questioned how long the man inside would stay there, and Dustin was concerned that any time in the tank was too much.
"I know you've never seen one of those before, but he's fine, Dusty. He's not gonna drown," Thalia finally intervened with a soft chuckle.
"Yeah, but are we planning to keep him in there forever?" Eddie finally piped up, causing Thalia's head to snap in his direction. "We could put him in a circus out in Wild Space. See the great, pickled Inquisitor."
She cracked what was probably the first smile he'd seen since they'd departed Bracca.
"How's he, uh, doing?" he asked.
"Healing." She shrugged. "Slowly."
"Maybe kolto is the superior substance after all." She rolled her eyes at him. "There’s a whole party going on outside, and you’re still hanging out in here. I don’t think that old Steev’s better at conversation than we are. ‘Specially not in the state he’s in now."
He let out a soft laugh, but sobered up when she didn’t respond.
“How are you?” he asked. “What’s going on? I thought we solved this funk thing before we got to Bracca. Is your stomach still hurting? I can get you another stimpack.” She'd refused any medical attention when they'd gotten back to the Mantis, instead focusing on getting her former friend stable. Eventually, Bob sat her down and gave her stimpack after stimpack and then finally a sedative so she could sleep.
"I...I don't know how I am," she whispered. Eddie knew that she was referring to more than just the lightsaber wound.
BD-1 looked up and whistled softly, then looked over at D5-TN and honked. She loosened her grip and the small explorer droid hopped to the ground, then the two droids departed from the medbay, leaving Eddie and Thalia alone.
Alone…with Steev.
"I feel like I'm at some kind of a crossroads now," she continued. "I stand by my decision not to let him die, to bring him with us. But after that? What do we do? Do we leave him in bacta forever, just like you said? Until what? We overthrow the Emperor?"
"Is that our next goal?" Eddie joked.
"Until it's safe to let him..." She paused and searched for the words. "Let him heal from what the Dark Side has done to him. With the Empire in power, I don't know if that can happen. The Inquisitors, they'll always...he’ll always…"
She trailed off with a hum, lips pursed.
Eddie waited for her to keep talking, and when she stayed silent, he took a few steps forward, until he was in front of the bacta tank.
Steev floated inside, unconscious and hooked up to a breathing mask and other devices that read out his vitals. He looked serene, as though he was sleeping instead of sedated and unconscious. His hair moved ambiently through the fluid, and the dark circles around his eyes had seemed to clear up. His body, however, looked bloated, distorted from the curved transparisteel of the tank. Along with the lightsaber wounds from the duel that looked like they were in the early stages of knitting itself back together, there were other scars that littered his body amidst freckles and moles.
A ligature mark around his neck, blaster wounds on his arms and legs, the look of what was possibly an old, healed bite wound along his side.
Had he gotten those as a Padawan during the Clone Wars? Or as a part of the Inquisitorious? Had his surrender to the Dark Side of the Force spared him from further pain? Or only caused him more? Eddie thought about the sparks of light he felt buried beneath the darkness in Steev's heart. Then he thought about what Wane had said to him, how remorse and regret had to count for something. A villain, someone who had truly given themselves to the Dark Side, could never feel those things. But somehow, Steev had.
“Do it! Kill me!" Steev had said at the end of their fight. "I’m already dead!”
Hopeless. Lost. Confused. Eddie had been those things at one point or another in his life, but he’d overcome it. He had one thing that Steev didn’t seem to have: friends. And Thalia. She was more than a friend. She was the person who was responsible for half of his troubles in this endeavor, but was also the one who helped him transcend them. Even when he’d felt his own anger settling in and pulling him to a dark place, she’d helped him back to the path to finding what was right.
"I don't know what to do," she whispered and Eddie turned and looked at her in shock. The person who’d seen him grow and change the most in the past few weeks was now lost herself. Well, he couldn’t have that.
"See, now I think that's a bunch of bantha shit," he scoffed and took a few steps back to her. He knelt before her and took her hands in his. "Because I heard you spout off a whole plan just then."
She frowned at him. "Did you?"
"You bet your boots."
"Would you care to elaborate on this plan you think I said?"
"You said that you would heal him, heal what the Dark Side has done?" Thalia nodded. "Then that's what we'll do."
"How?"
"We'll figure it out, one step at a time. Together."
"It's not that easy, Eddie." She tried to pull her hands away from him but he held on. "There's too much to be done. More missions for the Hidden Path, lessons in the Force—lessons that you haven't even completed yourself, by the way—not to mention simply surviving. There’s no time!"
"Well it's a good thing you're not going into it alone now, huh?" He squeezed her fingers lightly, and let himself channel the calm that he always felt from her. He let it flow freely towards her, felt it surround her and fill her up. Until she was a little calmer, a little brighter. "Steev is an Inquisitor, and even with the whole of the Empire at his back, he’s still alone. To deal with his anger, to deal with his troubles. Shit, even when he was part of the Jedi Order. I remember thinking that it was so cool to be a Padawan and have a Jedi Master teaching me things. But what did you say? Jedi don’t form attachments. So outside of the one person Steev was meant to trust, he had no one. He had you, right? But even you—”
“Let him down,” Thalia scoffed.
“Kept your distance,” Eddie corrected. “In your memory of the Jedi Temple, the biggest thing that stood out to me was how alone you were. Master Cordova? He wasn’t your master, he was your boss. And he wasn’t even there to protect you when the Order fell. None of the masters could save their apprentices. They couldn’t even save each other. It was every man for himself.
“Well, not anymore. I told you before we went to save Wane, you're not in it alone. You helped me, helped all of us." He glanced at Steev over his shoulder. "And I don't know entirely if he deserves it, but you'll help him, too. What did you tell me? Huh? A single spark of courage…” He frowned and tried to think back to the exact words she had said; he could only feel how good they’d made him feel. He wanted to share that feeling with her now, too. “Sorry, I can't remember.”
“Can ignite the fires of hope,” she recited as a smile grew on her lips. There was a warm feeling in his chest that grew at the sight of her smile. It was nice to provide her with the comfort she constantly gave him.
“You are that spark. We are that spark.” He continued and he thought back to his first instance of training to sense the living Force and felt the vast glowing nebula of light and life on the planet. He pushed that thought, that image through to Thalia, and he felt her squeeze his hand as she gasped. And then he helped her see the glowing bit of light in Steev, still shrouded, but not lost. “We will help him find the light again."
He opened his eyes in tandem with her, and she smiled and squeezed his hand tighter.
“When did you get to be so insightful?” she asked, letting out a watery laugh. “Seriously, you must have a really great teacher. You’re not the hotheaded, scruffy-looking smuggler I met back on Nar-Shaddaa.”
Eddie scoffed and tried to get up, tried to pry his hands from hers so he could walk away in fake outrage.
“Here I am, trying to make her feel better,” he narrated out into the empty ship. “And she calls me scruffy looking.”
She pushed herself out of the chair and swatted at him. He pulled her towards the entrance of the medbay so they could join the others for dinner, but she paused at the door to give one more look to Steev.
“He’ll be okay,” he promised.
“Yeah.” Thalia smiled and turned back to Eddie. “Yeah, he will be.”
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They headed down the boarding ramp and into the festivities as their friends, new and old, greeted Thalia as well. The kids demanded stories, Robin asked questions about the supposed newcomer aboard and if they’d need any help tending to him–
“I’m a pretty good healer, actually.”
–and G’areth and Jeff eagerly tried to announce that they would be playing a set for the festivities.
“Hey!” Eddie barked at them. “Why am I the last to know about this set? We haven’t practiced in weeks!”
“Come on, son,” Wane squawked in a heckling voice. “You’re gonna tell me I taught you how to play that guitar, and you need to practice for a week just to play a few measly songs.”
“Didn’t know you were playing for the Emperor,” Erica teased along with the older man, earning a pat on her head.
Eddie grumbled a lighthearted threat at them both, before he gave in.
The celebration was lovely, and as the sky began to turn shades of pinks and oranges and purples, the exhaustion began to set in. And the realization that this was what they all had to look forward to, what they had to preserve in the coming days, weeks, years that were to come.
Togetherness. Community. Hope.
Thalia found Eddie at the edge of camp, smoking while leaning against the barrier wall, shortly after he and the guys finished playing for the crowd. She didn’t speak at first; she didn’t need to. He could feel the way her soul brightened the closer she got to him, and when she took his hand in hers, a gentle calm descended on them both. He discarded his death stick and pulled her into his embrace. 
After a few beats, she spoke, and he could hear the cheeky smile in her voice as she said, “so, lightsaber training? Bright and early tomorrow morning?”
He threw his head back and groaned.
“Seriously? After everything we went through?” She lightly punched against his side. He let out a drawn out, dramatic sigh and then agreed. “I guess a little practice wouldn’t hurt. Not if I have to save your ass again.”
“Excuse me? Again?” She laughed and pulled away to look him in the eye. She looked about ready to bicker with him, as was their form of flirting, but Eddie was quick to cup her cheek and catch her lips with his.
His kiss was full of challenge, promise, gratitude, and love, and she melted into it, accepting everything he had to give. And his heart soared as she gave it right back to him, tenfold.
Eddie Moonsun had only ever dreamed of the sky, and as soon as he’d been able to, he had soared as high as he could. He’d found adventure, danger, the will of the galaxy—the Force—and had gone further than he’d ever imagined. Now, though, in the aftermath of chaos, he found himself grounded. With Thalia’s lips against his and the faint sounds of their friends in the distance, he realized that this was better than anything he’d ever dreamed of. 
A home, his friends, a purpose, love, hope. They were the real dreams, the real adventures, and he found that he was content to savor it as long as he could.
Thalia pulled away and fell back into his arms, and they watched as the binary suns of Bogano set. Tomorrow would bring another day, another challenge. But they were ready for a bright and brilliant future that they’d create and protect. 
Together.
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Eddie Moonsun, Thalia Trieste, Steev Toninghar, and all of their friends will return in By Any Other Name (Summer 2025) and Braver Than Most (Fall/Winter 2025).
Thank you again for reading! May the Force Be With You. Always.
19 notes · View notes
safarigirlsp · 9 months ago
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  ✨ SUMMERWEEN ✨
🔮🐈‍⬛ 😈 & 😈🐈‍⬛🔮
✨ BABBUSHKA’S ✨ 10 YEAR BLOGIVERSARY
🔮🐈‍⬛ 😈 & 😈🐈‍⬛🔮
✨ SAFARIGIRLSP’S ✨ ✨ BIRTHDAY BASH ✨
August is my birthday month, and anyone who's been here long knows Halloween is my favorite time of the year! I also just finished a big 200k plus story and want a little break before starting the next big thing. And on top of that, it’s my wonderful friend Babbushka’s 10 year blogiversary! So, we’re going to celebrate in our favorite ways — by writing spooky stories and tormenting our favorite characters!
REQUESTS ARE NOW OPEN for anything spooky or related to SUMMERWEEN! Please read this entire post for complete information, and if you're new, please take a look at my Masterlist. And see Babbushka’s Masterlist for all of her stories and guidelines.
We’re inviting everyone to celebrate with us! Readers and Writers alike!
All Readers: Please send us requests, ideas, thoughts, HCs, anything you like! And as many as you like! I’ll pick our favorites or, very likely, a combination of a few different ideas, and write a oneshot that includes everything I can fit in. Feel free to send in multiple ideas or requests! The more ideas to choose from, the better! All AU concepts, time periods, etc are welcome. Anything is fair game.
All Writers: Please feel free to repost, steal any prompts, write anything, and do your own thing with all of this! I'd love to be tagged in any content pertaining to Adam characters or anything related to Spencer from 1923.
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I’m only writing for Mills, Flip, and Jacques for big oneshots. If any new followers have a Spencer request, I would write for him too. I will do HC’s for anyone I have ever written for.
I have a strong preference for horror, action, adventure, and AU's.
My stories generally range in size from 5k to 25k, and some are even more! Look for a mix of horror, humor, romance, and adventure! Everything will contain adult themes and mature content. My masterlist has more detail on what I like and don't like, but one of my few hard no's are ships of any kind.
Requests will be open for one week, from July 26 - August 2. However, because I tend to write longer stories, the sooner an idea comes in, the more likely I am to use it.
This is an Adults Only event. My content is not for minors, or people who are easily triggered or offended. I write mature content intended for a mature audience only. All my content is buyer beware for wholesale offense and toxicity.
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Keep reading for prompts!
Prompts
𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺
* 001.    the seaside ,  as the sun is setting .
* 002.    a cabin in the middle of the woods .
* 003.    a home with a white picket fence .
* 004.    a dark bus stop lit only by street lights .
* 005.    a dive bar .
* 006.    a funhouse’s room of mirrors .
* 007.    an office building ,  bustling and busy .
* 008.    the back row of an empty movie theater .
* 009.    a rundown motel room .
* 010.    a loud house party on a suburban street .
* 011.    a university lecture hall during a class .
* 012.    the rooftop of a very tall building .
* 013.    a great ballroom during an elegant party .
* 014.    a natural history museum .
* 015.    the wine cellar of a large mansion .
* 016.    an old school gym .
* 017.    a boisterous bonfire at the lakeside .
* 018.    an otherwise empty parking lot .
* 019.    a neon club filled with throbbing music .
* 020.    the grounds of an empty summer camp .
* 021.    a large hedge maze ,  easy to get lost in .
* 022.    a derelict treehouse .
* 023.    a spacious ,  light-filled meadow .
* 024.    an underground illegal fighting club .
* 025.    an abandoned mansion .
* 026.    a cabinet of curiosities .
* 027.    an apple orchard in the middle of spring .
* 028.    an empty playground with squeaky swings .
* 029.    an extravagant greenhouse .
* 030.    the base of a large waterfall .
* 031.    a spacious walk - in closet full of lovely clothes .
* 032.    an attic or basement filled with forgotten things .
* 033.    the dark depths of an abandoned mine .
* 034.    the deck of a fishing boat at night .
* 035.    at home during a power outage .
* 036.    a long ,  winding road .
* 037.    the scene of a violent crime .
* 038.    a fork in a hiking trail deep in the wilderness .
* 039.    a porch on a stormy evening .
* 040.    a dusty antiques shop full of relics .
* 041.    the street of an unfamiliar city at night .
* 042.    between the tall shelves of a rare book shop .
* 043.    an abandoned asylum .
* 044.    a brewery or winery .
* 045.    a mysterious trail found in the woods .
* 046.    a stable of horses .
* 047.    a county fair at night .
* 048.    a rodeo .
* 049.    a garden bountiful with flowers or produce .
* 050.    a childhood home or bedroom .
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* 051.    the site of a horrible accident or crime .
* 052.    a closed pool ,  after everyone has left .
* 053.    a home holding horrific memories .
* 054.    a drive in movie theater .
* 055.    a double-booked air b&b .
* 056.    a police station in the middle of the night .
* 057.    a violent storm warning .
* 058.    a lavish ,   invite - only party .
* 059.    a public transit stop as rain is pouring down .
* 060.    a cabin in the woods .
* 061.    the underworld .
* 062.    a dusty ,   forgotten attic .
* 063.    on the set of a television show or movie .
* 064.    a lighthouse overlooking the raging sea .
* 065.    in an archaeological site.
* 066.    on a ship hundreds of miles from the nearest coast .
* 067.    a place from a dream or a memory .
* 068.    a tent pitched in the middle of the woods .
* 069.    ancient ruins .
* 070.    the morgue during an identification .
* 071.    an otherwise empty library during a late research session .
* 072.    a place that feels familiar ,  yet you've never been here before .
* 073.    a long hallway that seems to stretch on forever .
* 074.    a signpost at the start of a hiking trail .
* 075.    a bar or tavern bustling with life .
* 076.    the dance floor of a masquerade ball .
* 077.    inside of a car parked in a secluded area .
* 078.    at the edge of a cliff overlooking a large lake .
* 079.    inside a very old house with very old haunts .
* 080.    inside a courtroom .
* 081 past the warning signs .
* 082 around a bonfire or campfire .
* 083 here there be monsters .
* 084 high on a mountainside .
* 085 inside a trendy coffeeshop or bookshop .
* 086 on a road trip .
* 087 at a writer’s retreat .
* 088 under the stars .
* 089 a swanky restaurant .
* 090 on safari .
* 091 a picturesque beach .
* 092 a quaint village abroad .
* 093 in the fall foliage .
* 094 a crystalline winter dawn .
* 095 an expedition into the unknown .
* 096 a treasure hunt .
* 097 following a mysterious map .
* 098 off the map .
* 099 lost .
* 100 exactly where you were always meant to be .
 
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 Dark Academia Writing Prompts
1. A history major begins to unravel a murder that happened 100 years ago on campus.
2 A witch disguises herself as a professor in the occult studies department.
3. A group of history students uncover evidence of a witch trial that took place on campus centuries ago.
4. A journalist investigates a series of murders inspired by works of literature.
5. The study of an artifact leads to mayhem when an ancient evil is brought into the modern world.
 
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Situational Prompts
1.        Leaves crunching under your boots. 
2.        Morning air just a bit colder than expected. 
3.        The smell of warm cider in a mug. 
4.        Baking cinnamon muffins
5.        Pumpkin spice
6.        The harvest moon 
7.        Going to a haunted house
8.   Black cats crossing your path
9.   Heat of a fireplace on a cold night
10.      Crumbling tombstones
11.      Twigs snapping on the forest floor
12.      Trick-or-treating
13.      The call of an owl 
14.      Costume party
15.      Scary movie night
16.  Ghost stories
17.  Apple orchard
18.  A Victorian mansion
19.       Scratching at the door 
20.      Howling at the moon
21.       Eyes in the trees 
22.      Whispers from the shadows
23.      Murder of crows gathered outside
24.      Something’s under the bed 
25.      Fog rolling on an open field
26.      The only headlights on miles of open road
27.       Footsteps coming up quickly from behind
28.      A bathroom mirror in the dark
29.      Growls down the hall
30.      Wrought iron gates
31.      Friday the 13th
32.      A scream in the night 
33.      Blood washing down the shower drain
34.      Hot wax dripping on pentagrams
35.      Lightning over a castle 
36.      Torn stitches
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🏤 Stepping into a house that gives off all the wrong vibes
🍁 A crisp autumn evening, the smell of leaves and smoke on the air
🎹 Nighttime in an ancient house/manor, with the tinkling of piano keys from the next room
💧 Rain in the early morning, so dark that there’s hardly a sunrise
⛪ A church right after a funeral, a small handful of people dressed in black hanging their heads in silence
🌳 A foreboding forest at dusk as the sun disappears
⛵ On the beach before dawn as remnants of a shipwreck wash onto shore
🍂 A chilly, overcast autumn afternoon
🌃 Midnight in a busy city, sirens blaring a few blocks away
🎃 After dark on Halloween night after trick-or-treating ends
🚘 Driving down a long, dark stretch of road after taking a wrong turn
⚡ Distant thunder from a massive storm headed straight this way
🥀 An overgrown garden of nothing but poisonous plants
🌾 An eerie plot of farmland with seemingly no one around for miles
🐊 Murky swampland with posted warnings to keep people away
🔥 A roaring bonfire in the distance on a pitch-black night, with dark silhouettes crowded or dancing around it
🚧 Standing near old, abandoned train tracks when the bell starts to ring
🐟 Taking a swim on an uninhabited plot of beach, noticing ripples in the water
🌿 An old-fashioned plantation with secretive locals and a bitter history
💀 A cemetery full of dead, dry flowers as if all of the plots have been forgotten, some of the stones cracked or sinking into the dirt
🚇 A dingy old subway station, walls chipped to pieces, while waiting for a ride home
🌈 The sad silence after a violent storm, debris and wreckage everywhere
👗 An attic full of musty clothes and antiques belonging to someone long-dead
❄ A snowstorm locking everyone in their homes, with electricity flickering
🌲 An enchanting plot of forest or stream, tiny whispers cutting the silence
🌑 Inside of a re-occurring nightmare had time and time again
☔ A rainy afternoon, running nefarious errands
☕ At a quiet cafe, but unfamiliar folk are whispering and staring
🌵 A winding road through the desert with only one dingy hotel, its ‘vacancy’ light flickering red
💤 Dreaming of scraping nails against the window glass, and waking to still hear it
🐺 A quiet night, the only sound being the call of coyotes/wolves in the woods
🗿 An archaeological site
🏔️ Deep in the mountains
🐆 On safari
🔮 A fortune teller who knows too much
🐈‍⬛ Magic, that's practical
👻 A mansion with a haunted history
👹 A museum at night
 🕯 A seance
🍿 Scary movie night
🔪 The killer is here
😱 Spooky slumber party games (Bloody Mary, the Midnight Game, etc…)
☠ A cemetery or catacombs
⌛ An antique store
🏠 At home by the fireside
🍷 Go to a winery/brewery or cider factory
⛺ Rent a cabin for the weekend
🏰 A spooky vacation spot 
😈 A cryptid encounter
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(here are the same prompts on stupid backgrounds because I felt like making them)
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Tagging some witches who may interested!
@babbushka @mrs-gucci @mrs-zimmerman @iamburdened @gabesprincess @maybe-your-left @candycanes19 @rynwritesstuff @caillea @cas-backwards-tie @queeniebee @lumberjack00fantasies @mythrielofsolitude @icarusinthesea @ghoulian13 @reyloaddict55 @fizzywoohoo @heartlight-starlight @richbrittstein @clydesfavoritegirl @bensolodyad @thepalaceofmelanie @celiholland @reveluving @vedavan @queen-of-elves @srorgana1 @reylokisses @vixenofcourse @kylofrk @looking4mymagicshop @diejager
All edits by the amazing @kyloremus
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escapedartgeek · 18 days ago
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CHARACTER  TRUTHS : Z. Andrews
bold   –   always  ⁄  often | italic   –   sometimes | 
001.   smoking:  the  action  or  habit  of  inhaling  &  exhaling  the  smoke  of  tobacco  or  a  drug.
002.   binge  drinking:  the  consumption  of  an  excessive  amount  of  alcohol  in  a  short  period  of  time.
003.   drug  abuse:  the  habitual  taking  of  illegal  drugs.
004.   nail  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
005.   lip  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
006.   night  owl:  a  person  who  is  habitually  active  or  wakeful  at  night.
007.   early  bird:  a  person  who  rises ,  arrives ,  or  acts  before  the  usual  or  expected  time.
008.   negative  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  criticism  &  pessimism.
009.   positive  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  optimism  &  confidence.
010.   swearing:  the  use  of  offensive  language.
011.   superstitious:  an  irrational  belief  that  an  object ,  action ,  or  circumstance  not  logically  related  to  a  course  of  events  influences its  outcome.
012.  inspecting  fingernails:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  boredom.
013.   scratching  your  neck:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  uncertainty.
014.   foot  &  finger  tapping:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  stress / impatience.
015.   nose  touch:  a  subtle  body  language  sign  of  deceit.
016.   flipping  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  craving  attention.
017.   twirling  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  flirtation.
018.   cracking  knuckles:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
019.   hands  behind  back:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  confidence.
020.   finger  pointing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  authority.
021.   hands  on  hips:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
022.   hands  in  pockets:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  mistrust / reluctance.
023.   frequent  touch:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  warmth / familiarity.
024.   throat  –  clearing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  rejection / doubt.
025.   jaw  –  clenching:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  hostility.
026.   eye  –  rolling:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  irritation.
027.   head  –  tilt:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  interest.
028.   whistling:  to  emit  high  –  pitched  sound  by  forcing  breakthrough  a  small  hole  between  one’s  lips  or  teeth;  usually  to  a  tune.
029.   humming:  make  a  low,  steady  continuous  sound  like  that  of  a  bee;  usually  to  a  tune.
030.   perfectionism:  refusal  to  accept  any  standard  short  of  perfection.
031.   photographic  memory:  the  ability  to  remember  information  or  visual  images  in  great  detail.
032.   paranoia:  a  mental  condition  characterized  by  delusions  of  persecution ,  unwarranted  jealousy ,  or  exaggerated  self  –  importance,  typically  worked  into  an  organized  system.
033.   exaggeration:  a  statement  that  represents  something  as  better  or  worse  than  it  really  is.
034.   intuitive:  using  or  based  on  what  one  feels  to  be  true  even  without  conscious  reasoning;  instinctive.
035.   quick  –  witted:  showing  or  characterized  by  an  ability  to  think  or  respond  quickly  &  effectively.
036.   interrupting:  breaking  the  continuity  of  a  conversation  with  one’s  own  statements.
037.   doodling:  to  scribble  or  make  rough  drawings,  absentmindedly.
038.   irritable:  having  or  showing  a  tendency  to  be  easily  annoyed.
039.   gambling:  to  play  games  of  chance  for  money;  bet.
040.   travel  –  sick:  suffering  from  nausea  caused  by  the  motion  of  a  moving  vehicle ,  boat ,  or  aircraft.
041.   sensitive:  having  or  displaying  a  quick  &  delicate  appreciation  of  others’  feelings.
042.   melancholy:  a  feeling  of  pensive  sadness,  typically  with  no  obvious  cause.
043.   chewing  gum:  the  exercise  of  chewing  flavored  gum  which  is  not  intended  for  swallowing.
044.   fidgeting:  to  make  small  movements,  especially  of  the  hands  &  feet,  through  nervousness  or  impatience.
045.   skeptical:  not  easily  convinced;  having  doubts  or  reservations.
046.   neat  –  freak:  compulsively  obsessed  with  cleanliness.
047.   gossiping:  divulging  personal  information  about  others.
048.   prim:  feeling  or  showing  disapproval  of  anything  regarded  as  improper;  stiffly  correct.
049.   abbreviating:  giving  others  nicknames / shortening  names / giving  pet  names.
050.   having  a  catchphrase:  having  a  sentence  or  phrase  typically  associated  with  a  specific  person.
tagged by : @dayzarisn
tagging : @bewitchingbaker @deathdvncer @wraithseen @bigspinachpuff
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magnetic-regent-magneto · 10 months ago
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GREAT MAGNETO PROMPT MASTERPOST (includes Music, Theme, Verse and Place Prompts)
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↪     MUSIC 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 ,
PLOT BASED ON A SONG
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↪     THEME/ERA 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 ,
Plots based on a Magneto-related theme, verse or era. Plot Roulette for quick access. Add (*your muse/my muse*) for adjustments -- updated 24.06.24
001. Spionage Era .
002. Acolyte Uprising .
003. AnarchyX Revolution .
004. Future of X-Men Blue .
005. Asteroid M's Final Stand .
006. Savage Land Philosophies .
007. The White King of the Hellfire Club .
008. Brotherhood Noir .
009. Dark Fantasy .
010. Apple of Krakoa .
011. Elden Ring/Lords of the Fallen .
012. League of Legends .
013. Kree and Shi'ar War of Kings .
014. War of Arrako .
015. Peace of Arrako .
016. Resurrection on Krakoa .
017. Political Intrigue of Krakoa .
018. Legacy Virus .
019. Mothervine .
020. Mysterium Metal .
021. Secret Wars with Avengers .
022. Headmaster Magneto .
023. Magneto Protocols .
024. X of Swords .
025. Civilisation on Saturn .
026. Chimera Plots .
027. Chimera Magneto .
028. Quiet Council Secrets .
029. Uprising .
030. Paradise Genosha .
031. Ruins of Genosha .
032. Lives of Moira X .
033. Black Vault .
034. Machine Forge .
035. Expedition .
036. Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse .
037. Cosmic Cerebro .
038. Mutant Purge .
039. Broken Magnet .
040. Black Ops .
041. Game of Thrones .
042. Legacy of M .
043. Avalon Sanctuary .
044. Terrorist .
045. Brotherhood .
046. Morlocks .
047. Anomaly .
048. Riddled Alliance .
049. Civil War .
050. Lost .
051. Celebrations .
052. Studies .
053. Rebirth .
054. Family .
055. Rise of Magneto .
056. Cosmic Event .
057. Reforming Mars .
058. Living Earth .
059. Reluctant King .
060. Betrayal .
061. Corruption .
062. Imprisoned .
063. Sacrifice .
064. Infiltration .
065. Annihilation .
066. Negotiation .
067. Survival .
068. Experiment .
069. Invasion .
070. Art .
071. Judgement .
072. Banishment .
073. Assassination .
074. Forgiveness .
075. Eclipse .
076. Quantum Electromagnetism .
077. Heart of a Star .
078. Nimrod .
079. Resonance Chamber .
080. Control (Game) .
081. Blackest Night .
082. Destruction of London .
083. Boss Fight .
084. Series 97 .
085. Golden Tracks AU .
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↪     PLACE 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 ,
001. Genosha .
002. Asteroid M .
003. Savage Lands .
004. Island M .
005. Wundagore Mountain .
006. Poland .
007. Berlin .
008. Krakoa .
009. New York .
010. Madripoor .
011. Dark Dimension .
012. Limbo .
013. Mars .
009. New York .
010. Madripoor .
011. Dark Dimension .
012. Limbo .
013. Latveria .
014. Underground Cities .
015. Atlantis .
016. Morlock Tunnels .
017. Xavier Institute .
018. Avalon .
019. Muir Island .
020. Research Facility .
021. Museum .
022. Astral Plane .
023. Bermuda Triangle .
018. Mojoverse .
019. Vault .
020. Jungle .
021. Phalanx .
022. Saturn .
023. Space .
018. Outerspace .
019. Eternals .
020. Avengers Tower .
021. Study .
022. Quantum World .
023. Hellfire Club .
024. Apocalypse .
025. Titan .
026. Hell .
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spidermilkshake · 1 year ago
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Deployment
More RE fanfics--more mutants, more corporate shenanigans. Finally, we have arrived on the day of RE2's events.
Rating: Teen (TW for suggestive language, human experimentation, dehumanization, medical/lab settings and stuff, plus also human adults cuss like human adults)
Mr. X would rather like to get off Umbrella Corp.'s wild ride. It's a rather short one while I'm working on finishing up the next--which will FINALLY feature a certain newbie RPD guy about to be pursued by a Big Big Fella.
7: Deployment
            The agent commanded Mr. X to enter the panel moving truck, but by the limited space within and the chill that pervaded the blank interior the unmarked vehicle was clearly a refrigerated compartment. T-00 set itself down against the far wall in a cross-legged posture, tucking itself down to resist the slight cold and letting itself doze off for much of the rumbling journey. It must have taken several days, which mattered little to it. It did not wish to be all that aware after being torn away. Its metabolism had been slowed enough by the confines that only once an armed guard yanked open the door and blasted the dormant Tyrant with morning sunrays did it notice any sort of thirst or hunger. Its joints cracked stiffly as it stood, tromping down the truck’s ramp and into a familiar yet unfamiliar industrial warehouse setting.
            There were five other Tyrants already waiting in a semi-circle, immobile while Umbrella staff and guards buzzed around them like frantic bees. It recognized one of them—not by designation, but by its drowsy habits during downtime. T-00 came to a stop right beside the other Tyrant and eager to be near someone familiar, who greeted the younger with a bleary blink, grunt, and a slight bob of its head. Mr. X rumbled in its throat in response, but the nonverbal reunion was interrupted by a labcoat-wearing older man approaching the group of huge creatures:
            “T-103 Tyrants—stand by for your new orders.” The man rasped, untucking a sheaf of documents and photographs from under his spindly arm, “T-048, T-049. You two are to maintain a perimeter around the Disposal Plant. No unidentified creatures or persons are to exit this perimeter. Destroy all irregular mutants; kill all armed persons you find.” These two accepted between them a copy of a large photograph which showed the exterior of a large disposal complex, one hand of each holding opposite corners as the B.O.W.s nearly hit their skulls together in their close study. They were much more similar in looks than many T-103s—likely from a split embryonic batch and accustomed to assignments together.
            The older man also handed a copy of this photo and an internal map schematic to the three others.
            “T-029, T-033, and T-035. T-035. Hey, Sleeper. Wake up.” He snapped, and Mr. X’s former holding room neighbor flinched and snapped to attention, “You three will infiltrate the facility. Clear out irregular mutants you find inside and put all organic materials from them into the disposal chamber. There will be a trained armed squad of outsiders within. Kill them all.”
            These Tyrants grumbled roughly in a sort of response, weight shifting from pillar-like leg to pillar-like leg—anxious, building with adrenaline at the thought of the more violent-natured assignment. This left T-00 standing alone, eying the old staff member as he turned towards it and appeared to ogle its trilby for a long moment.
            “As for you—you have a very special mission.” A small stack of papers was offered towards it, and with a curious head tilt it took them in one vast hand and began shuffling through them. “You are to obtain a sample of Dr. William Birkin’s G-virus. You are holding a schematic of the N.E.S.T. layout below the city where all samples should be located. However, intelligence suggests that before a team was sent to dispatch him Dr. Birkin had locked the sample cache down with a number of fail-safes that will detonate unless it is unlocked with a specific keycode. Next you should see a photograph of Dr. Annette and William Birkin’s daughter, Sherry.”
            Mr. X examined this photo. Sherry was very much what its experience had it expect of juvenile humans, though as pale as the Birkins’ where Mariposa had been as dark as Ramirez. She shared the tired lower eyelids of Julian’s daughter in this frozen moment she was in—baring her teeth in a broad smile between her two distracted-looking parents.
            “Based on the bugging of their house, it is very likely that one or both of the Birkins has given Sherry an object which conceals this keycode, if not a dormant sample of the G itself. If you encounter her, get that object. It could be jewelry, a pager, a flash drive—anything roughly that size.
            “You have a secondary task—find the Raccoon City Police Department and clear it. A photo of the building is in your materials.” There was in fact a photo of a large, distinctive building with a sturdy gate around its front exterior, and a… tower? Tower, yes. It would be very hard to miss even from a distance.
            “You are to track down all surviving members of the R.P.D. and kill them all. You have photos of every confirmed member of this force. If you encounter any of these targets, kill them immediately. Understood?”
            T-00 gave a heavy nod, flipping through the smaller five by sevens which appeared to be officially-taken headshots. There were more than a dozen to memorize, so Mr. X took an additional minute to do so, its leathery brows just barely mobilizing in concentration.
            A heavy blast of air from the propped-open warehouse door had the Tyrant’s free hand shooting up to catch onto the brim of its hat. A powerful whirring of double-rotors slowing filled the space and drowned out the shouts and commands of the Umbrella personnel as the cargo helicopter touched down just outside. A woman in a labcoat leaned down over the high catwalk above the bioweapon conference and bellowed in a voice of authority:
            “Alright boys—get those living tanks loaded up! Move—we don’t have all goddamn day!”
            Aware they were about to be on the move, the Tyrants all pocketed their various background materials and fidgeted in place, their tremendous weight giving the small movements extra energy, extra menace for any observer who knew what was good for them; T-00 straightened up its hat atop its scalp and watched as two armed guards gestured at the group of Tyrants to follow over towards a cluster of heavy, metallic cylinder-shaped pods that sat strapped and ready to be hooked up and airlifted. These drop-pods were arranged two by three—ten feet tall and more than six feet wide, the devices armored and painted minimally with a dull red and white block letters naming the designations of each Tyrant they were meant for. Mr. X’s sleepy-natured neighbor was loaded into the cylinder just ahead of it, and the creature startled sharply at the noise of the curved doorway hissing as it was hermetically sealed and its support systems came online. With a swift glance, it confirmed for itself that none of the handlers had noticed the sudden jolt of fear, and under another goading from the nearest guard it cautiously wedged itself into the extremely tight confines of its pod.
            The gas valves sizzled painfully in its ears as the door shut it in. A small LCD screen lit up mere inches from its eyes, showing a diagram of a vague bipedal form along with a short instruction: LINE UP WRISTS AND ANKLES IN THE SHOWN POSITION. T-00 felt its jaw clench tighter with the stress, but it focused on where its arms and legs were backed up into the grooves built into the sleek white inner surface. A green light half-stunned it from the screen, and firm Kevlar belts engaged from the grooves to restrain it in place. The Tyrant let out a panicked croak. This was… not a part of training, or something it was intuitively inclined to accept or understand. It tried to concentrate on anything else but the clinical, plastic-y smell choking the stuffy space or the complete loss of mobility: The G-forces on its huge frame increased, telling it the pods were finally being lifted.
            The muffled double WHUMM-WHUMM-WHUMM from above was the only thing now that could distract it from the tightness and the nauseating proprioception as the Tyrant pods lurched along behind the tow line. The bioweapon hoped the distance until the airdrop point was not far; not that it had anything to vomit up, but it did not want to think about how the pod’s systems would react in that case…
            It was a torturous half-hour of top-speed flight until the pods gave a second, even more violent lurch—now dangling straight down over a selected spot as the helicopter hovered over. It had felt so many times longer. T-00 gave a reflexive jerk against its bonds as a pneumatic whoosh sounded from a neighboring pod; then another—and another. Five Tyrant pods had been dropped in succession; Mr. X was alone now. It strained with greater force against the straps holding it down as it felt the chopper’s tow line drag along again, swinging the Tyrant in a perpendicular direction. The inch-thick Kevlar started to give off little ping!s as its fibers gave way, one at a time.
            Mr. X really, really wanted off of Umbrella Incorporated’s wild ride. Before it had the chance to put its enhanced muscles to the test doing that, there was a sudden k-CHUNK! from overhead. The straps holding the deployment pod ripped free with a controlled hiss. For a few seconds, T-00’s eyes widened until they watered in the artificially-dry air, sensing itself floating up from the floor—slowly putting together what this lapse in gravity meant, especially given its great mass.
            This box had better be strong enough to—
            CRASH!
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nightingeal · 12 days ago
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CHARACTER TRUTHS!
bold   –   always ⁄ often | italic   –   sometimes |  strikethrough - never
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001.   smoking:  the  action  or  habit  of  inhaling  &  exhaling  the  smoke  of  tobacco  or  a  drug.
002.   binge  drinking:  the  consumption  of  an  excessive  amount  of  alcohol  in  a  short  period  of  time.
003.   drug  abuse:  the  habitual  taking  of  illegal  drugs.
004.   nail  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
005.   lip  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
006.   night  owl:  a  person  who  is  habitually  active  or  wakeful  at  night.
007.   early  bird:  a  person  who  rises ,  arrives ,  or  acts  before  the  usual  or  expected  time.
008.   negative  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  criticism  &  pessimism.
009.   positive  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  optimism  &  confidence.
010.   swearing:  the  use  of  offensive  language.
011.   superstitious:  an  irrational  belief  that  an  object ,  action ,  or  circumstance  not  logically  related  to  a  course  of  events  influences its  outcome.
012.  inspecting  fingernails:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  boredom.
013.   scratching  your  neck:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  uncertainty.
014.   foot  &  finger  tapping:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  stress / impatience.
015.   nose  touch:  a  subtle  body  language  sign  of  deceit.
016.   flipping  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  craving  attention.
017.   twirling  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  flirtation.
018.   cracking  knuckles:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
019.   hands  behind  back:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  confidence.
020.   finger  pointing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  authority.
021.   hands  on  hips:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
022.   hands  in  pockets:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  mistrust / reluctance.
023.   frequent  touch:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  warmth / familiarity.
024.   throat  –  clearing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  rejection / doubt.
025.   jaw  –  clenching:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  hostility.
026.   eye  –  rolling:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  irritation.
027.   head  –  tilt:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  interest.
028.   whistling:  to  emit  high  –  pitched  sound  by  forcing  breakthrough  a  small  hole  between  one’s  lips  or  teeth;  usually  to  a  tune.
029.   humming:  make  a  low,  steady  continuous  sound  like  that  of  a  bee;  usually  to  a  tune.
030.   perfectionism:  refusal  to  accept  any  standard  short  of  perfection.
031.   photographic  memory:  the  ability  to  remember  information  or  visual  images  in  great  detail.
032.   paranoia:  a  mental  condition  characterized  by  delusions  of  persecution ,  unwarranted  jealousy ,  or  exaggerated  self  –  importance,  typically  worked  into  an  organized  system.
033.   exaggeration:  a  statement  that  represents  something  as  better  or  worse  than  it  really  is.
034.   intuitive:  using  or  based  on  what  one  feels  to  be  true  even  without  conscious  reasoning;  instinctive.
035.   quick  –  witted:  showing  or  characterized  by  an  ability  to  think  or  respond  quickly  &  effectively.
036.   interrupting:  breaking  the  continuity  of  a  conversation  with  one’s  own  statements.
037.   doodling:  to  scribble  or  make  rough  drawings,  absentmindedly.
038.   irritable:  having  or  showing  a  tendency  to ��be  easily  annoyed.
039.   gambling:  to  play  games  of  chance  for  money;  bet.
040.   travel  –  sick:  suffering  from  nausea  caused  by  the  motion  of  a  moving  vehicle ,  boat ,  or  aircraft.
041.   sensitive:  having  or  displaying  a  quick  &  delicate  appreciation  of  others’  feelings.
042.   melancholy:  a  feeling  of  pensive  sadness,  typically  with  no  obvious  cause.
043.   chewing  gum:  the  exercise  of  chewing  flavored  gum  which  is  not  intended  for  swallowing.
044.   fidgeting:  to  make  small  movements,  especially  of  the  hands  &  feet,  through  nervousness  or  impatience.
045.   skeptical:  not  easily  convinced;  having  doubts  or  reservations.
046.   neat  –  freak:  compulsively  obsessed  with  cleanliness.
047.   gossiping:  divulging  personal  information  about  others.
048.   prim:  feeling  or  showing  disapproval  of  anything  regarded  as  improper;  stiffly  correct.
049.   abbreviating:  giving  others  nicknames / shortening  names / giving  pet  names.
050.   having  a  catchphrase:  having  a  sentence  or  phrase  typically  associated  with  a  specific  person.
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byanyan · 13 days ago
Text
CHARACTER  TRUTHS : yeong-hwan byun byan
bold   –   always ⁄ often | italic   –   sometimes |  strikethrough - never
Tumblr media Tumblr media
001.   smoking:  the  action  or  habit  of  inhaling  &  exhaling  the  smoke  of  tobacco  or  a  drug.
002.   binge  drinking:  the  consumption  of  an  excessive  amount  of  alcohol  in  a  short  period  of  time.
003.   drug  abuse:  the  habitual  taking  of  illegal  drugs.
004.   nail  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
005.   lip  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
006.   night  owl:  a  person  who  is  habitually  active  or  wakeful  at  night.
007.   early  bird:  a  person  who  rises ,  arrives ,  or  acts  before  the  usual  or  expected  time.
008.   negative  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  criticism  &  pessimism.
009.   positive  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  optimism  &  confidence.
010.   swearing:  the  use  of  offensive  language.
011.   superstitious:  an  irrational  belief  that  an  object ,  action ,  or  circumstance  not  logically  related  to  a  course  of  events  influences its  outcome.
012.  inspecting  fingernails:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  boredom.
013.   scratching  your  neck:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  uncertainty.
014.   foot  &  finger  tapping:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  stress / impatience.
015.   nose  touch:  a  subtle  body  language  sign  of  deceit.
016.   flipping  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  craving  attention.
017.   twirling  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  flirtation.
018.   cracking  knuckles:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
019.   hands  behind  back:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  confidence.
020.   finger  pointing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  authority.
021.   hands  on  hips:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
022.   hands  in  pockets:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  mistrust / reluctance.
023.   frequent  touch:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  warmth / familiarity.
024.   throat  –  clearing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  rejection / doubt.
025.   jaw  –  clenching:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  hostility.
026.   eye  –  rolling:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  irritation.
027.   head  –  tilt:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  interest.
028.   whistling:  to  emit  high  –  pitched  sound  by  forcing  breakthrough  a  small  hole  between  one’s  lips  or  teeth;  usually  to  a  tune.
029.   humming:  make  a  low,  steady  continuous  sound  like  that  of  a  bee;  usually  to  a  tune.
030.   perfectionism:  refusal  to  accept  any  standard  short  of  perfection.
031.   photographic  memory:  the  ability  to  remember  information  or  visual  images  in  great  detail.
032.   paranoia:  a  mental  condition  characterized  by  delusions  of  persecution ,  unwarranted  jealousy ,  or  exaggerated  self  –  importance,  typically  worked  into  an  organized  system.
033.   exaggeration:  a  statement  that  represents  something  as  better  or  worse  than  it  really  is.
034.   intuitive:  using  or  based  on  what  one  feels  to  be  true  even  without  conscious  reasoning;  instinctive.
035.   quick  –  witted:  showing  or  characterized  by  an  ability  to  think  or  respond  quickly  &  effectively.
036.   interrupting:  breaking  the  continuity  of  a  conversation  with  one’s  own  statements.
037.   doodling:  to  scribble  or  make  rough  drawings,  absentmindedly.
038.   irritable:  having  or  showing  a  tendency  to  be  easily  annoyed.
039.   gambling:  to  play  games  of  chance  for  money;  bet.
040.   travel  –  sick:  suffering  from  nausea  caused  by  the  motion  of  a  moving  vehicle ,  boat ,  or  aircraft.
041.   sensitive:  having  or  displaying  a  quick  &  delicate  appreciation  of  others’  feelings.
042.   melancholy:  a  feeling  of  pensive  sadness,  typically  with  no  obvious  cause.
043.   chewing  gum:  the  exercise  of  chewing  flavored  gum  which  is  not  intended  for  swallowing.
044.   fidgeting:  to  make  small  movements,  especially  of  the  hands  &  feet,  through  nervousness  or  impatience.
045.   skeptical:  not  easily  convinced;  having  doubts  or  reservations.
046.   neat  –  freak:  compulsively  obsessed  with  cleanliness.
047.   gossiping:  divulging  personal  information  about  others.
048.   prim:  feeling  or  showing  disapproval  of  anything  regarded  as  improper;  stiffly  correct.
049.   abbreviating:  giving  others  nicknames / shortening  names / giving  pet  names.
050.   having  a  catchphrase:  having  a  sentence  or  phrase  typically  associated  with  a  specific  person.
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violetgleams · 13 days ago
Text
CHARACTER  TRUTHS : Avi Anders
Tumblr media
bold   –   always  ⁄  often | italic   –   sometimes | strikethrough - never
001.   smoking:  the  action  or  habit  of  inhaling  &  exhaling  the  smoke  of  tobacco  or  a  drug.
002.   binge  drinking:  the  consumption  of  an  excessive  amount  of  alcohol  in  a  short  period  of  time.
003.   drug  abuse:  the  habitual  taking  of  illegal  drugs.
004.   nail  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
005.   lip  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
006.   night  owl:  a  person  who  is  habitually  active  or  wakeful  at  night.
007.   early  bird:  a  person  who  rises ,  arrives ,  or  acts  before  the  usual  or  expected  time.
008.   negative  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  criticism  &  pessimism.
009.   positive  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  optimism  &  confidence.
010.   swearing:  the  use  of  offensive  language.
011.   superstitious:  an  irrational  belief  that  an  object ,  action ,  or  circumstance  not  logically  related  to  a  course  of  events  influences its  outcome.
012.  inspecting  fingernails:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  boredom.
013.   scratching  your  neck:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  uncertainty.
014.   foot  &  finger  tapping:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  stress / impatience.
015.   nose  touch:  a  subtle  body  language  sign  of  deceit.
016.   flipping  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  craving  attention.
017.   twirling  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  flirtation.
018.   cracking  knuckles:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
019.   hands  behind  back:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  confidence.
020.   finger  pointing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  authority.
021.   hands  on  hips:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
022.   hands  in  pockets:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  mistrust / reluctance.
023.   frequent  touch:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  warmth / familiarity.
024.   throat  –  clearing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  rejection / doubt.
025.   jaw  –  clenching:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  hostility.
026.   eye  –  rolling:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  irritation.
027.   head  –  tilt:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  interest.
028.   whistling:  to  emit  high  –  pitched  sound  by  forcing  breakthrough  a  small  hole  between  one’s  lips  or  teeth;  usually  to  a  tune.
029.   humming:  make  a  low,  steady  continuous  sound  like  that  of  a  bee;  usually  to  a  tune.
030.   perfectionism:  refusal  to  accept  any  standard  short  of  perfection.
031.   photographic  memory:  the  ability  to  remember  information  or  visual  images  in  great  detail.
032.   paranoia:  a  mental  condition  characterized  by  delusions  of  persecution ,  unwarranted  jealousy ,  or  exaggerated  self  –  importance,  typically  worked  into  an  organized  system.
033.   exaggeration:  a  statement  that  represents  something  as  better  or  worse  than  it  really  is.
034.   intuitive:  using  or  based  on  what  one  feels  to  be  true  even  without  conscious  reasoning;  instinctive.
035.   quick  –  witted:  showing  or  characterized  by  an  ability  to  think  or  respond  quickly  &  effectively.
036.   interrupting:  breaking  the  continuity  of  a  conversation  with  one’s  own  statements.
037.   doodling:  to  scribble  or  make  rough  drawings,  absentmindedly.
038.   irritable:  having  or  showing  a  tendency  to  be  easily  annoyed.
039.   gambling:  to  play  games  of  chance  for  money;  bet.
040.   travel  –  sick:  suffering  from  nausea  caused  by  the  motion  of  a  moving  vehicle ,  boat ,  or  aircraft.
041.   sensitive:  having  or  displaying  a  quick  &  delicate  appreciation  of  others’  feelings.
042.   melancholy:  a  feeling  of  pensive  sadness,  typically  with  no  obvious  cause.
043.   chewing  gum:  the  exercise  of  chewing  flavored  gum  which  is  not  intended  for  swallowing.
044.   fidgeting:  to  make  small  movements,  especially  of  the  hands  &  feet,  through  nervousness  or  impatience.
045.   skeptical:  not  easily  convinced;  having  doubts  or  reservations.
046.   neat  –  freak:  compulsively  obsessed  with  cleanliness.
047.   gossiping:  divulging  personal  information  about  others.
048.   prim:  feeling  or  showing  disapproval  of  anything  regarded  as  improper;  stiffly  correct.
049.   abbreviating:  giving  others  nicknames / shortening  names / giving  pet  names.
050.   having  a  catchphrase:  having  a  sentence  or  phrase  typically  associated  with  a  specific  person.
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youngshinxjunghoo · 9 months ago
Note
From the setting prompts: 029.   an extravagant greenhouse
omg lets so go <33 just so you know this is going to be so self indulgent i love writing about plants so much help. but also this is the first white collar thing ive ever written this is so scary but have some flower talk <3
(also this is set canon universe post 4x02)
It didn’t take a genius to realize that Peter Burke struggled with feelings. He liked logic, efficiency, and results, not sitting down and spilling his guts about uncomfortable feelings. Maybe because the emotions of other people- and sometimes himself- were completely uncontrollable to him. He liked solving puzzles, sure, but only when those puzzles ended in finding hidden treasure or someone getting arrested, not when he had to figure out what the hell was going on in someone’s brain and then try to comfort them about it. 
Which is one thing most people agreed he should never be allowed to do. 
Peter Burke wasn’t exactly good with sappy words or comforting others. 
However, he just so happened to have a wife who was great at it. 
It was only a week after Peter and Neal had returned from Cape Verde. Neal was still healing from getting shot in the leg and immediately being pushed back into work.
It was clear he was holding on to a lot and with everything that had happened, Elizabeth could tell he needed a well deserved break- and no, Cape Verde did not count. But since when did Neal Caffrey ever take care of himself? He was too focused with throwing himself into work in an attempt to do anything he could to bring Peter back to White Collar. 
He was the one who was shot, yet here he was, doing everything he could to help Peter’s career. 
He more than deserved a bit of gratitude from El, and since she lacked the skills to steal some pricey European painting for him, a personalized gift from event planner extraordinaire Elizabeth Burke would have to do for now.  
She had decided on making a flower arrangement for him. It was personal, classy, and it would hopefully make for a fresh new decoration to Neal’s apartment. Almost like a ‘welcome back’ gift. Besides, Peter was money conscience and Elizabeth just so happened to have a florist she often collaborated with owe her a favor. 
So Elizabeth and Peter soon found themselves in a homey greenhouse outside of the city. Elizabeth had a white basket around her arms as she entered the greenhouse, only to be attacked by the vibrancy of the plants and flowers that covered almost every area of the packed room. The bright sunlight used the glass walls to bend its rays to magnify the soft colors of the flowers that took up most of the greenhouse. 
Despite the bundles of plants scattered around the greenhouse, it was surprisingly organized. Each section was labeled and even seemed to be color coded. It was like a rainbow had exploded into hundreds of soft, flower petals. 
It was already giving Elizabeth inspiration, as she could clearly picture bouquets of different flower arrangements sitting as a centerpiece in Neal’s already lively home. 
Peter, on the other hand, was stumped. 
Elizabeth’s friend who owned the greenhouse was letting her pick as many flowers as she needed, and Peter soon found out how overwhelming simply picking out flowers was. There were too many shapes, colors, and types involved and Peter had no idea which ones would even look together. El was the one with a keen eye for style. 
“It’s not about the flowers, Hon,” Elizabeth tried to explain as they walked through the rows of flowers. “It’s about the meaning behind them.” 
Peter stopped himself from asking if she thought Neal would know the meanings behind all these flowers, because who was he kidding, of course he would.
“Make something that represents Neal,” El suggested, walking past a collection of lilies. 
Something that represented Neal? It’s not like there was a fedora shaped flower or anything. However, there were some brightly colored gaudy flowers that almost resembled those sparkly jewels Neal had an eye for. 
“What’s this one?” Peter asked when he came across a fluffy looking bundle of bright yellow flowers. Yellow flowers were usually used for joy or friendship, right? That could probably work. 
“Yarrow.” Elizabeth leaned over to get a better look at the small flowers that almost looked like a honeycomb from farther away. “You know, it’s actually known as a healing plant.” 
Huh. That was pretty on the nose, wasn’t it?
So Peter stuffed some of the lacy yellow yarrow flowers and placed them in Elizabeth’s basket. Sure, he felt a bit silly that he was wishing Neal a good recovery through flowers, but it seemed like flowers were good for speaking the words he didn’t know how. 
Hm, maybe that’s what he needed to do. Communicate through the flowers. Which, yeah, sounded a bit cheesy, but Neal knew how to appreciate cheesy. 
With that in mind, Peter let Elizabeth lead him around the greenhouse and tell him the meanings of each flower, occasionally stopping to let him pick out a few flowers he thought would fit. And after stuffing about four different flower types in their basket, they returned home to let Elizabeth demonstrate the artistry of actually arranging the flowers together. 
It wasn’t that difficult, as Peter’s floral choices had turned out to be strangely tender, with a soft and welcoming palette of pale pinks and yellows. 
Peter watched as Elizabeth started with pink chrysanthemums, which almost had an ombre look to them as the curved, leaf shaped petals in the middle started out as a vibrant pink and then faded out to a classy rose pink. Peter did not at all consider himself to be sappy, but when Elizabeth told him the meaning of chrysanthemums, his hands began moving on their own volition to pick the flowers and put them in the basket. 
Unwavering optimism. Positive growth. Joy. They were all such hopeful and colorful descriptions of the delicate looking flower and Peter couldn’t help picturing Neal. After all, there was no one he knew who had more ‘unwavering optimism’ than Neal Caffrey. It was almost obnoxious, how he could have such a positive outlook on everything and use that to fuel most of his hairbrained impulsiveness. 
But maybe Peter also wanted to use the flowers as a reminder. That yeah, he was proud of Neal. 
Which was something he didn’t say enough. 
And that led to the next flower, the dahlia. 
Elizabeth cut down the stems of the orangish-pinkish dahlias so that they hung just right underneath the petals of the chrysanthemums. The ball shaped flowers with the cone like petals were yet another soft addition to the arrangement as they symbolized devotion, love, beauty, and finding inner strength. 
It was at this point that Peter began to wonder if he had gone overboard. 
...This was extremely tacky, wasn’t it?
“You don’t think Neal deserves to know how you feel?” El had countered when Peter had voiced her concerns aloud. 
“Sure, through my own voice, not through flowers.” 
“I think he’ll appreciate the flowers. And he knows you don’t always have the easiest time saying what you feel.”
So the dahlias stayed. 
Peter couldn’t complain, the arrangement actually did look stunning- it was by Elizabeth though, so that was to be expected. 
El proceeded to weave the lacy yarrow in between the dahlias and chrysanthemums, injecting some neatly placed leaves throughout the bouquet. 
And lastly, she took the tall stalks of yellow and muted pink snapdragons and added them to the arrangement. Like many flowers, snapdragons held many different meanings. They stood for grace and strength, but at the same time, they symbolized deception. 
And what represented Neal Caffrey better than graciousness and deception? 
Besides, he knew it would get a long overdue chuckle out of Neal. He knew Peter didn’t mean it to be vicious or accusatory, but rather something that pointed to Neal’s strength.  
Soon enough, Elizabeth had put the finishing touches on the bouquet and stepped away from her creation, studying it for a few minutes with pursed lips before turning back to Peter. 
“What do you think?” 
“It’s like I’m staring right at him.” Peter admired the vibrant yet sophisticated arrangement as he pictured it sitting in June’s apartment, fitting right at home with Neal’s vintage suits and work in progress paintings. “Do you think you could add a mini fedora?” 
Elizabeth laughed, but grabbed sheets of brown and black origami paper a few minutes later. 
And just like that, Neal’s bouquet was decorated with a tiny fedora. 
It was straightforward, it was cheesy, it was bright and colorful and carefully crafted. It was everything that was to be expected from Peter Burke trying his best to represent the enigma that was Neal Caffrey. 
Peter wasn’t always the best at expressing his feelings, but hey, at least now he could try to communicate through the language of cutting and neatly arranging flowers.  
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mastcrmarksman · 17 days ago
Text
CHARACTER  HABITS & TRUTHS
bold ; often | italic ; sometimes | strike ; never | formerly
001.   smoking:  the  action  or  habit  of  inhaling  &  exhaling  the  smoke  of  tobacco  or  a  drug.
002.   binge  drinking:  the  consumption  of  an  excessive  amount  of  alcohol  in  a  short  period  of  time.
003.   drug  abuse:  the  habitual  taking  of  illegal  drugs.
004.   nail  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
005.   lip  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.
006.   night  owl:  a  person  who  is  habitually  active  or  wakeful  at  night.
007.   early  bird:  a  person  who  rises ,  arrives ,  or  acts  before  the  usual  or  expected  time.
008.   negative  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  criticism  &  pessimism.
009.   positive  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  optimism  &  confidence.
010.   swearing:  the  use  of  offensive  language.
011.   superstitious:  an  irrational  belief  that  an  object ,  action ,  or  circumstance  not  logically  related  to  a  course  of  events  influences its  outcome.
012.  inspecting  fingernails:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  boredom.
013.   scratching  your  neck:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  uncertainty.
014.   foot  &  finger  tapping:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  stress / impatience.
015.   nose  touch:  a  subtle  body  language  sign  of  deceit.
016.   flipping  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  craving  attention.
017.   twirling  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  flirtation.
018.   cracking  knuckles:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
019.   hands  behind  back:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  confidence.
020.   finger  pointing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  authority.
021.   hands  on  hips:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.
022.   hands  in  pockets:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  mistrust / reluctance.
023.   frequent  touch:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  warmth / familiarity.
024.   throat  –  clearing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  rejection / doubt.
025.   jaw  –  clenching:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  hostility.
026.   eye  –  rolling:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  irritation.
027.   head  –  tilt:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  interest.
028.   whistling:  to  emit  high  –  pitched  sound  by  forcing  breakthrough  a  small  hole  between  one’s  lips  or  teeth;  usually  to  a  tune.
029.   humming:  make  a  low,  steady  continuous  sound  like  that  of  a  bee;  usually  to  a  tune.
030.   perfectionism:  refusal  to  accept  any  standard  short  of  perfection.
031.   photographic  memory:  the  ability  to  remember  information  or  visual  images  in  great  detail.
032.   paranoia:  a  mental  condition  characterized  by  delusions  of  persecution ,  unwarranted  jealousy ,  or  exaggerated  self  –  importance,  typically  worked  into  an  organized  system.
033.   exaggeration:  a  statement  that  represents  something  as  better  or  worse  than  it  really  is.
034.   intuitive:  using  or  based  on  what  one  feels  to  be  true  even  without  conscious  reasoning;  instinctive.
035.   quick  –  witted:  showing  or  characterized  by  an  ability  to  think  or  respond  quickly  &  effectively.
036.   interrupting:  breaking  the  continuity  of  a  conversation  with  one’s  own  statements.
037.   doodling:  to  scribble  or  make  rough  drawings,  absentmindedly.
038.   irritable:  having  or  showing  a  tendency  to  be  easily  annoyed.
039.   gambling:  to  play  games  of  chance  for  money;  bet.
040.   travel  –  sick:  suffering  from  nausea  caused  by  the  motion  of  a  moving  vehicle ,  boat ,  or  aircraft.
041.   sensitive:  having  or  displaying  a  quick  &  delicate  appreciation  of  others’  feelings.
042.   melancholy:  a  feeling  of  pensive  sadness,  typically  with  no  obvious  cause.
043.   chewing  gum:  the  exercise  of  chewing  flavored  gum  which  is  not  intended  for  swallowing.
044.   fidgeting:  to  make  small  movements,  especially  of  the  hands  &  feet,  through  nervousness  or  impatience.
045.   skeptical:  not  easily  convinced;  having  doubts  or  reservations.
046.   neat  –  freak:  compulsively  obsessed  with  cleanliness.
047.   gossiping:  divulging  personal  information  about  others.
048.   prim:  feeling  or  showing  disapproval  of  anything  regarded  as  improper;  stiffly  correct.
049.   abbreviating:  giving  others  nicknames / shortening  names / giving  pet  names.
050.   having  a  catchphrase:  having  a  sentence  or  phrase  typically  associated  with  a  specific  person.
tagged by : @dayzarisn.
tagging: @pympartic, @transistorized (or for emmrich), @biitchcakes, @hubrisdescent, @humancyclops, & @blindfated, @heroin3, (gotta grab you guys new blogs)
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