#It is likely. At least some part due to like labor isolation and all I do is work I do not have life events to interest people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkestcorners · 3 years

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graveyard shift | yandere!jungkook au

pairing: vampire!jungkook x reader {f}

genre: yandere, horror

warnings: 18+, supernatural themes, stalking, tormenting, obsessive behavior, slight gore, mentions of blood, mature themes, graphic language, minor character death

word count: 8.3k

summary: When you take the graveyard shift at your new job, you expect things to go rather boringly but the quiet night soon turns deadly when you realize you aren’t alone…

A/N: this was low-key inspired by that one spongebob episode with the hash slinging slasher lol. I'm not sure if I'm doing second part to this yet since it was kinda meant to be a one shot but if anyone would like another part please let me know:). Thank you so much for feedback I got on my polarity au! I will be posting the second part to that soon!:)

“Alright, so just make sure they show you their ID if they come to buy alcohol. ” Your coworker explained in a bored tone as he tapped away at the register. He looked tired already and you both had just arrived for your shift. You figured he must of worked a second job during the day due to the prominent bags under his eyes and his half lidded gaze. He was rather grumpy too.

You would admit anyone would be in a sour mood if they had to go to work at midnight but you had taken advantage of your few amount of classes this semester to take a good nap throughout the day. Of course this wasn’t an ideal job by any means but you counted yourself lucky considering the lack of job experience you had. It was a quick solution to earn some extra money to help your aunt with the rent. You didn’t need more of a reason for her to be on your neck, it was clear she already considered you a burden.

Besides the job didn’t seem that bad despite having to be stuck in a shabby 24 hour convenience store until 7 am. If anything, it was starting to make sense why they hired you, it seemed like it would be a slow night. It wasn’t as if the job required much labor and since it was the night shift, you wondered if there would be much customers to begin with at such unholy hours. The shop was located in a rather isolated part of town near the outskirts. It was clear it was geared towards tourists coming by to stop for a few snacks or drinks to continue their road trip. It served as a rest stop more than anything.

You stood there like a lost puppy as your coworker finished explaining to you the basics. You eyed his stoic expression, the dark hair rested over his pale forehead in a messy manner. You came to the conclusion that he would be cute if you weren’t so intimidated by him. Well, he was really cute but you were quick to shove the the observation away. He didn’t seem the least bit interested in even holding a conversation with you. If a friendly relationship was what you were hoping for at your first day here then it seemed like you were headed for disappointment.

“Got it?” His voice brought you back to reality as he raised an eyebrow at you. A few seconds of silence passed before you nodded your head eagerly knowing damn well you didn’t catch the last bit of what he said at all. He sighed as he stepped away from the register and walked around you, heading straight towards his seat next to you.

“Do you usually get customers at these hours?” You asked, your voice timid. Your gaze was glued on your co worker’s name tag that hung on the left side of his red uniform shirt. Yoongi.

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes shifted towards you slowly and he gave you slight shrug.

“I wouldn’t know, this is my first time working this shift. I usually work in the mornings.” He replied, his clear disinterest was evident but your curiosity spiked up.

“Really? Did they only switch you to train me?” If that was the case it would make sense why he looked so tired now, they must’ve of announced it last minute considering they had just called you yesterday informing you that you had gotten the job. No wonder he didn’t seem fond of you, it must have been an annoyance having to train a new employee for the graveyard shift. You instantly felt guilt wash over you.

“Yeah,” He muttered, confirming your thoughts. “ The old employee kinda quit last minute so we needed a quick replacement.”

“Oh.�� You whispered, turning your head back the register in front of you. “ Sorry about that.”

Yoongi looked confused by your apology but he didn’t bother saying anything else as he plugged in his ear phones and laid back into his chair. You as he crossed his arms over his chest, his foot lazily tapping against the tile floor.

This would indeed be a slow night.

You decided to take advantage of the chair in front of the register and let yourself fall back against the seat, eyes slowly drifting down to stare at the beat up converse you wore. Your legs had already started to get a little sore despite only being here for a couple of minutes. You brought your gaze back up to look at the different aisles in the store, your mind was already memorizing where everything seemed to be located. You supposed the one advantage of working here would be the endless snacks you could indulge in and not to mention the delicious ramen. Your mouth watered at the sight of the ramen cups on the opposite side of the small store. According to Yoongi, your lunch break was at 3 so you figured that would kill some time.

12:37 a.m

You glanced at the clock that hung from the bright white walls behind you before turning your head back around and letting out a sigh.

You focused your attention ahead of you, the glass windows giving you a clear view of the lonely parking lot outside. The two dimly lit street lights that stood at each corner of the side walk flickered slightly and that’s when you noticed how the tree branches rustled roughly back and forth. It was mid September and the weather was already getting too cold for your liking, rainfall was common in this wooded area. However, this caused a worry to seep through you. The windy weather often caused outages and you could only hope that wouldn’t be the case today. As boring as it was, you preferred the rest of the night to go smoothly. Needless to say you weren’t the most reliable person when it came to stressful situations.

As your gaze continued to travel across the empty parking lot you felt your eyelids grow heavy. You rested your chip on the palm of your hand and felt your head tilt involuntary. Your eyes stayed focused outside but they lazily started to shut, only to flutter open again when you caught yourself drifting off. You didn’t know how much time had passed of you just being on the brink of falling asleep but something in the corner had caught your attention enough for your eyes to stay open for a few more seconds. Your vision caught sight of something near the tall trees that stood off the side of the pavement. Something seemed to be moving behind the bushes.

You didn’t think much of it at first, figuring it must be some animal like a raccoon or a squirrel roaming around but the more you stared at it the more you realized the figure didn’t seem to resemble any sort of animal. You lifted your head up slightly, your drowsy state making it suddenly hard to decipher what exactly you were looking at. You watched as the figure shifted and that’s when you realized it was in fact not an animal. It was far too big. It looked like a person was crouching behind the bushes. You knitted your eyebrows, wondering what type of weirdo would be doing that. You wondered if it was just some random crackhead who had decided to sleep there for the night but that’s when you noticed the figure lift up it’s arm. It’s hand was now sticking out of the bush and you felt your entire body freeze up when you realized the claws sticking out from its fingers.

You watched in horror as the hand waved at you slowly as if it was taunting you.

The sight caused you to jolt back in your seat , pulling away from the register. You turned towards your coworker that seemed to be fully drifting off to sleep. No matter how much you despised the idea of bothering him you couldn’t bring yourself to care at this moment. Your fear had taken over completely and you tapped his shoulder frantically.

“Yoongi!” You called out in a panic and he groaned before his eyelids fluttered open. His eyes scanned his surroundings before landing on your distressed expression. He furrowed his eyebrows and ripped the ear buds off in a hurried manner, body instantly tensing up.

“What’s wrong?”He demanded, a mixture of annoyance and worry coated his tone.

“T-there’s something outside!” You pointed towards the windows refusing to turn your head towards the spine chilling scene again. Yoongi sent a perplexed look your way before getting up and walking past you. Your heart still felt like it was beating far too fast and your palms felt sweaty. You heard Yoongi let out a sigh from behind you and you turned your head in his direction.

“There’s nothing out there.” He simply stated as he stared out the windows. You didn’t believe him for a second so you forced your legs to move and came to stand next to him. Your eyes searched for the clawed hand you had just seen a few seconds ago but you were met with nothing but an empty parking lot. There was nothing near the bushes, no figure crouching down and certainly no hand waving at you.

Not a single thing in sight.

“I swear it was just there!” You tried to explain but Yoongi only glared at you, not even trying to seem like he believed a word you were saying.

“What exactly was there?”

“A hand! There was a clawed hand waving from that bush!” You exclaimed in pure panic not even realizing how utterly insane you sounded. Yoongi stared at you in silence, his eyes darting to the window and back at you in disbelief.

“Y/n,” He started with a low chuckle, hands coming to rub his temples. “ Do you hear yourself?”

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you when you realized how hard he was holding in a full laugh. Your mouth hung open, words threatened to spill out but you kept quiet. Your eyes traveled back to the same area and you wondered if you had imagined it all. You had been on the verge of falling asleep when you saw it. Your mind raced with possibilities of what you could of seen but none of them made any sense. You were describing something straight out of some cheesy horror film and you expected your coworker to somehow think you were okay in the head? You felt nothing but pure humiliation now.

“Just get back to work, we still have a long shift ahead of us.” Yoongi’s shoulder brushed yours as he walked back to his chair and you let your head drop as you sighed. You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to fully wake up and rid yourself of all possible delusions that your own head could be making up. What were you thinking? First day on the job and you were already making a fool of yourself, not to mention proving how unfit you were for such a simple job. You hesitantly made your way back over to your seat, not even sparing a glance at your coworker. You still felt far too embarrassed to face him again.

It was sure going to be a long night.

—

Thunder boomed throughout the sky, the loud sound practically rattled the entire space. It had started to pour about an hour ago and now there was a full on thunderstorm taking place. By some miracle no outages had occurred and you were thanking your lucky stars for that. Being stuck here with your hostile coworker was already awkward enough and you didn’t need to add to the unpleasant experience by all the lights going out. You were terribly afraid of the dark and you had already embarrassed yourself enough in front of him.

You were currently restocking some items in the chip aisle, you had decided to make yourself a little useful and roam the store for a few minutes to stretch your legs out a bit. That chair turned out to be extremely uncomfortable after a couple of hours and the numbness in your thighs had been tricky to walk off. You set the final bag of chips along with the rest and turned the corner before stopping to grab two iced coffees out of the refrigerators. You shut the door and headed back behind the counter, you glanced at Yoongi nibbling on what looked to be a granola bar.

“Coffee?” You asked holding up the drink and he nodded. You set it down next to him and opened yours , taking a long sip. The caffeine was doing its job so far in keeping you awake, you had not dozed off again but the same couldn’t be said for the guy next to you. You were sure he had been asleep more than he had been awake throughout this whole night. You couldn’t blame him, there not much else to do and not one customer had come in. You figured you would at least get some truck drivers in here at these hours but Yoongi had mentioned they probably wouldn’t start coming in until 4 or 5 am. You took a swift look at your phone.

3:16 a.m

“Thanks.” Yoongi said beside you as he took a sip of his coffee, his eyes glued to his own phone. He seemed to have just woken up, a look of misery painted on his face.

Time seemed to be passing at such an excruciatingly slow speed that you truly did pity him. And yourself. You figured you would have to get used to it, this was your job now and after today , Yoongi wouldn’t be here to keep you any company. Not that he served much company but at least he was some good eye candy to stare at. Besides, you were still a bit shaken up from what you had seen, or from what you thought you had seen earlier. You didn’t even want to imagine the scene you would of made if you had been alone.

The sound of a engine in the distance ripped you away from your thoughts. You turned your head towards the windows and squinted your eyes expecting a truck or motorcycle but there seemed to be a large bus passing by the street ahead. The red back lights flickered but the harsh rain was making it hard for you fully catch a glimpse of it.

“Do buses run at this time?” You wondered out loud. This town was relatively small and you were sure you had never seen buses run at these hours. The latest you have seen them operate was 7 p.m and that was pushing it. Your question seemed to shock your coworker as well, you heard him shift behind but there was a long pause before he spoke.

“I don’t think so.” He replied and you turned to him raising an eyebrow. He gave you a shrug before returning his attention back to his phone. Perhaps it had been a travel bus from out of town. It disappeared in the distance as it seemed to drive down another empty street. You took another sip of your coffee before sitting back down on the hard chair that you were sure was going to give you some type of back pain eventually.

You spent the next couple of minutes playing on your phone. Boredom had officially taken over and you reluctantly decided to open up your gaming apps in an attempted to distract yourself. You didn’t exactly know if you were even allowed to be on your phone but Yoongi didn’t seem to have an issue with it and if he was allowed to go on his that must have meant you were too. Your fingers tapped against your phone rapidly, letting out a groan or sigh here and there when you didn’t manage to win a round of the game.

The sudden bell of the door that rang throughout the small shop startled you, making you instantly drop your phone. You lifted up your head to meet the customer that had just walked in and you couldn’t say you weren’t taken aback. Your eyes scanned over the tall man in all black attire, the leather jacket hung slightly loosely on his lean figure. His ink black hair was dripping wet due to the unfortunate weather. It was parted to the side displaying an undercut. Different piercings covered both sides of his ears as well as one of his eyebrows. As your eyes traveled further down you noticed the tattoos peaking out from his right hand.

He was undeniably attractive but one thing that stood out to you was his paper white complexion. It almost looked sickly. He nodded his head towards in acknowledgment, dark orbs staring right through you. The intensely of his gaze nearly made you squirm and you instantly broke it, lowering your head down and focusing it on the register instead. You heard his boots pad against the floor as he walked further into the store, turning towards one of the aisles. You kept your head down but your eyes peaked up at the convex mirror that reflected the aisles allowing you to keep an eye on whoever was in the store.

To your surprise however you didn’t catch a single glimpse of him in the mirror. How strange. You craned your neck further to get a better view of the mirror again but it seemed the reflection only held the sight of the empty aisles. His face had been unfamiliar, you were positive had never seen him around here. You would of remembered such a striking face. You heard his footsteps again, he seemed to be walking in a oddly slow manner.

Your coworker was shockingly not dead asleep this time, it seemed like the bell had also startled him awake. He did look like he was seconds away from falling back into his slumber though, his expressionless face giving away nothing as he bopped his head to whatever music was blasting through his ear buds.

The store lights flickered causing Yoongi to let out a low curse. You glanced up at the ceiling , you had been dreading this would happen all night. They continued to flicker more rapidly and the sight of it made you dizzy. Another roaring sound of thunder was heard causing your body to flinch involuntary.

The sound of something being set on the counter in front of you forced your attention back in front of you. The man towered over you and your seated state made him seem a lot more intimidating than he probably should of been. You eyed the small bottle of vodka he had set on the counter as you silently rang it up despite the feeling of his stare burning into you. Thankfully the lights had finally stopped flickering.

You slid the bottle back over to him as you told him the total. He wordlessly reached over to his back pocket, pulling out his card and handing it over to you. Your fingers brushed his skin and you couldn’t help but notice how ice cold his hands were. He raised an eyebrow in question which made you believe you were doing a poor job at keeping a poker face, his sharp gaze didn’t waver from you for a second. His presence was unsettling you in a way you couldn’t explain.

You gave him back his card, your hand slightly shaking and you mentally cursed at your clumsy actions. You saw the side of lip tug at the sight , a full smirk forming. You averted your gaze once again but it only seemed to amuse him more, eyes attempting to catch your stare.

“Oh wait!” You suddenly remembered what Yoongi had said to you before you had started your shift. You had just dumbly realized your mistake. “ May I see your ID?”

His lips quirked up at your question, displaying his upper white teeth. He seemed to be holding in a laugh as his eyes scanned over your entire figure. You shifted a bit under his stare, not understanding what he was finding so amusing.

“You’re all good, man.” You heard your coworker say from beside you, waving him off. You glanced over at him with a questioning gaze and he gave you an exasperated look in return before rolling his eyes.

The man in front of you didn’t even seem to acknowledge Yoongi, his attention was solely focused on you. You hesitated a bit before printing out his receipt and handing it over.

“Have a nice night.” You forced out , sending him a small smile.

“Thank you, doll.” He replied, his voice velvety. It was a tone you hadn’t expected from his rough appearance, it sounded almost musical to the ears. It caused something inside of you stir, your heart rate suddenly picking up. His hands grasped the bottle and turned towards the door. He took a few steps forward before pausing, his head tilting upwards.

“You should fix these lights.” He commented as he seemed to stare up at them in speculation. Right as the words left his lips the lights suddenly flickered once again in a rapid manner. It disoriented you for a second , your eyes squinting so hard that they nearly shut.

“The hell,” Yoongi whispered beside you.

In that same moment they stopped and your eyes finally relaxed.

“Must be the bad weather.” The stranger mused as he flashed you a smile, this time showcasing his full set of perfect teeth. The expression gave him a more youthful look, softening his sharp features. You let out an awkward giggle in return, not entirely sure how to respond.

Something flickered in his eyes at the sound of your laugh but it disappeared before you could make out what it had been.

“You know, you’re far too pretty to be working here all alone at these hours, doll.” He said as he tilted his head to the side, picking you apart. “ Lots of creeps, someone could just snatch you right up.”

Something about his words left you uncomfortable. His tone was playful but you caught the seriousness layering underneath. It didn’t help that he was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. His eyes almost seemed hungry.

“Well,” You swallowed, a nervous small taking over your trembling lips. “ I’m not really alone.”

You were obviously referring to your coworker sitting beside you but the man in front of seemed to have barely taken a notice in his presence. His eyes slowly shifted over to Yoongi, gaze darkening for a mere moment before it returned back to you.

“Right.” He drawled out, amusement still clear in his tone. “I’ll see you around, Y/n.”

He gave you one last long look before he slipped out the door, the bell rang again signaling his departure. You let out a breath, your body relaxing now at his absence. But that didn’t last long when your mind played over his last words. Y/n. Had he said your name? You tensed up again before you shook your head in disbelief of your own stupidity. Your eyes caught sight of the name tag that hung on your shirt.

You’re too paranoid, you scolded yourself.

“That guy was weird.” You mumbled , turning to face Yoongi. “ and why didn’t you let me see his ID?”

Yoongi gave you a dumbfounded look.

“I meant ask for an ID when they look like minors,” He clarified in a condescending tone. “That guy was obviously of age.”

You didn’t even know what to say to that because he had a point.

“And how oblivious are you?” Your coworker questioned, raising a single eyebrow at you. His agitated face was rather endearing.

“What do you mean?” You asked not knowing what he was referring to.

“The guy was obviously hitting on you.” He scoffed, shaking his head at your wide eyed expression. His expression said enough, Yoongi clearly thought you were a bit of an air head and at this point you didn’t know if you could argue against it.

Had he been flirting? You would admit you weren’t the most experienced person in that department but the man definitely had a strange way of showing interest. His presence was far too strong and something about him had just seemed off no matter how good looking he was.

You watched as the rain padded against the windows, it didn’t seem like the weather was going to get any better anytime soon. You had turned down the AC despite Yoongi pestering you to leave it be. It wasn’t your fault that the store manager had decided to put it at such a ridiculously low temperature. As the night progressed , the more you began to dissociate from your surroundings. While you had promised yourself not to doze off, you had eventually gave into your lethargic state and had a quick nap. Well, at least you thought it had been quick because you had woken up in a fright thinking you had slept until daylight only to realize 20 minutes had gone by.

The time 4:06 a.m had practically been mocking you.

What you hadn’t mention to your coworker was what had woken you up. Your slumber had been interrupted by the insufferable sound of something sharp scratching against glass. The irritating sound resembled that of nails on a chalkboard, it had seemed as if someone had taken a razor and just ran it against the window beside you creating such an unpleasant sound to the ears. You had inspected the window beside you, looking for any type of damage but you had failed to find any. You figured some cat must have been having a field day.

You avoided mentioning it to Yoongi who had been in a coma like state beside you. You figured it was useless to even try, you knew he was either going not believe you at all or simply brush it off. It wasn’t like you needed a repeat of what had happened earlier so you decided to just keep your mouth shut, convincing yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

You were on your third coffee of the night and you were starting to think you were resembling a corpse at this point. You almost felt bad for judging Yoongi on his tired state because you knew that was going to be you from now on. It was almost ironic how this job required you to do so little yet drained your energy completely. The delirious feeling was started to creep back up as you struggled to maintain your eyes open again.

“We should play a game.” You suddenly announced as you came back from your fifth trip to the bathroom. Your small bladder did a really poor job at handling all the coffee you had drank tonight. You saw your coworker lift his head up at your suggestion but his gaze remained on the floor, his hands that were crossed over his chest unmoving.

“A game?” He didn’t sound the slightest bit intrigued by your suggestion and you wouldn’t either if you were in his position. You knew the last thing he wanted was for the newbie to keep bothering him when he had already sacrificed his sleep schedule in order to train you tonight.

“You know, to help us kill time?” Your comment sounded more like a question, clearly sounding unsure of your own idea as you took a seat next to him again. The empty ramen cups still stood on the counter in front of you, you two had taken a second break, courtesy of Yoongi, and had ate another cup of noodles in silence as you watched a YouTube video on his phone. Well, more like you had eavesdropped while Yoongi kept sending dirty looks your way, obviously trying to tell you to mind your own business.

“You mean to help you not pass out during your shift?” His foot tapped against the bottom of counter.

“Well, yeah.” You sighed in defeat not even bothering to defend yourself. It was very much in order for you to stay awake and not completely leave the counter unattended. You figured you were already on thin ice, there was cameras installed at each corner of the shop and if your manager happened to watch them back you knew it was over. You silently prayed they weren’t the type to be that observant. The establishment didn’t seem to be that strict so far.

Yoongi was a prime example of that.

“And who are you going to play games with when I’m gone?” Yoongi asked with a blank expression on his face. “ Your imaginary friend?”

“Well, actually-“

A blood curling scream cut you off as you jumped in your seat. You whipped your head around, staring straight out the window. The scream didn’t sound that far at all, only seeming to come from a few feet away but you saw nothing outside. You turned to face your coworker and for the first time in the entire night you saw a look of concern cross him. His eyes scanned over the parking lot attempting to find the source of the sound.

“What was that?” You whispered, you felt your heart drop as the screaming continued only to come to a sudden stop. You knitted your eyebrows in confusion as silence met you both. Only the sound of the rain and howling wind could be heard now.

“I don’t know..” Yoongi’s eyes stayed glued outside, his expression still remaining as confused as yours. You almost thought you were seeing things when the your vision caught sight of someone emerging from the left side of the side walk , it looked like a woman. Your eyes struggled to keep up with her frantic state, her figure moving far too quickly and that’s when you realized she was headed towards you.

The entrance door burst open, the annoying ringing signaling the woman’s sudden arrival. You stumbled back from your spot behind the counter, your body hitting the wall behind you. Your coworker was just as taken aback as you, his body jolting to the side.

It was an older woman and she looked absolutely in shambles. Her hair was a crazed mess, the expression she wore was petrifying. Her eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets and she was drenching. She wore a long dark coat that covered her entire frame. Her makeup was completely smeared, black mascara all over cheeks as her red lipstick stretched down to her chin.

Your eyes landed on her knees, she must of have fallen somewhere because they were covered in mud and visible scrapes. Some blood was still tickling down her leg.

“Please! H-help me!” She cried out and that’s when you noticed she was barefoot. She looked completely unstable, her arms reaching out towards you both and you didn’t know how but you managed to back up even further against the wall.

“What’s going on?” You heard Yoongi ask her as he came to stand right in front of you. He held up his hand, motioning at her to calm down but she only cried out more.

“Help me! He’s coming!” She screeched looking back towards the door. She gripped her hair harshly as she paced back and forth.

“Ma’am? Who’s coming?” Yoongi demanded, his arms still gesturing at her but she ignored him.

“He’s coming, he’s going to get me.” She mumbled frantically, hands still in her hair as she stared down at the floor, she let out another loud cry before she lifted her head to meet both your gazes again.

“You have to run! He’s going to get you too!” She yelled, slamming her fist on the counter causing you to flinch. You saw Yoongi back away cautiously at her actions.

“We need call the police!” You shouted in a low whisper to your coworker but as you reached over to grab your phone the woman let out another yell.

“It’s no use! He’s already here!” A look of pure anguish took over her face as she bolted towards the door again. “I have to go! He’s coming!”

Yoongi rushed over towards the door and attempted to call after her but she was long gone. You watched as she ran across the street, your eyes widening as she seemed to take off into the wooded area. Her figure instantly disappearing behind the tall forest trees in the distance.

You stood there frozen not believing what had just occurred. This night was starting to feel like a fever dream. Your hands shook as you lifted up your phone, dialing the police but you were met with nothing. The line went dead.

“Why is there no signal?” You groaned as you typed away again but were met with the same luck.

“Crazy bitch.” Yoongi huffed as he slammed shut the door and slid his hands over his face before letting out a long sigh.

“Try your phone.” You insisted and he picked up his own phone and pressed it against his cheek. The flash of annoyance in his eyes was enough for you to realize his line had was also went dead.

“What the hell was that?” You whispered mostly to yourself. You were too shaken up to even fully process it. The petrified look the woman had wore kept playing in your head repeatedly, you could practically still hear the desperation in her voice.

“She was probably on something.” Your coworker shook his head as he seemed to try and fix whatever was wrong with his phone. His eyebrows stayed glued together.

“What if she wasn’t? She looked genuinely afraid of something.” Who had she been running from? Your body chilled at the words she kept repeating.

He’s coming

You felt fidgety again, the ball of anxiety in your stomach prevented you from standing still. Your hands trembled as you bit your lip.

“There’s a lot of weirdos out here, it’s not like we are in the best part of town.” Yoongi reasoned as he let his phone slam back down on the counter. “ This damn weather is fucking up the signal.”

“What do we do?” That woman definitely needed help whether she was on drugs or not. She had run straight into the forest for gods sake and she looked like she was injured. She could be in danger right now. Your mind was racing as her face remained glued in your memory.

“We can’t do much right now.” Your coworker stated in defeat and while you knew he was probably right, it didn’t sit well with you. You felt so useless not being able to call for any help for that woman. She had look terrified. Why had she taken off towards that direction? Why hadn’t she headed towards roads leading up towards the town? Someone else must have heard her scream and you only prayed they had called for help by now but you knew that was wishful thinking. There wasn’t much of anything around this location and any houses near by were still a reasonable distance away from here. You doubted they were close enough to have hear her.

“I’m going for a smoke.” Yoongi muttered as he slid the hoodie that had been laying on the side of chair over his shoulders, putting the hood over head. He looked anxious but he was trying his best to hide it. It was clear the scene had left him startled. You watched as he stepped outside the shop, the cigarette instantly meeting his lips as he leaned his body up against the window.

You felt sick to your stomach all of a sudden. You stepped to the side and made your way towards the restroom. Closing the small door behind you, you came to stand in front of the sink. You ran your hands under the water, lowering your head to splash some of it over your face. The cold water felt refreshing on you, giving you a single moment of peace. You stared back at your reflection in the mirror. You look drained, your eyes were bloodshot. This night seem to be eating away at your sanity. You blinked rapidly as you tried your hardest to not let tears spill over. You couldn’t wait for this night to end, you were starting to seriously second guess your choice in accepting this job. So much had already happened and it was just your first day.

As if on cue, your few moments of peace were rudely interrupted when you room went pitch dark. Your reflection was barely visible now and your hands went over to turn off the faucet that was still running.

Looks like your luck with no outages had come to an end.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You whined as you dug into your back pocket in search for your phone. You lifted it up, your fingers sliding up the screen to turn on the flashlight.

It was uncomfortably too silent for your liking. You opened the door, practically jogging back over to the counter. You slowed down as you realized your coworker had not come back in yet. You turned your phone towards the windows and frowned when you didn’t see his figure pressed up against it anymore. You poked your head out the entrance door, looking both ways but you didn’t see him anywhere in sight. Raindrops fell harshly on top of your hair as your eyes continued to search for him.

Where had he gone?

You poked your head back inside and let your eyes roam around the small store.

“Yoongi?” You called out as you walked through each of the aisles, part of you expected him to be standing in some corner attempting to fix the lights but you were only met with empty aisles.You felt yourself starting to get nervous as there seem to be no sight of him. It didn’t make any sense, where could he had possibly gone? You turned the corner, heading over the storage room in the back. You peaked your head in, flashing the light to every corner before heading back towards the front counter.

As you stared back at the aisles , you saw something outside run past from the corner of your eye. You turned your neck so fast you were sure you heard it crack. Your eyes were met again with nothing but the empty parking lot but you were sure you had just seen something. It had been too fast for you to keep up with. Were your eyes playing tricks on you? You found it hard to swallow as your mouth dried up with the thought of something being out there but you forced the thought to go away momentarily. You had to look for Yoongi.

You forced your legs to move forward as you gripped the door handle again, this time you let your whole body step outside. The wind blew harshly against your face and the pouring rain quickly had your work shirt soaking. You came to cup your hand over your forehead as you squinted through the harsh shower.

“Yoongi!” You called out, your voice cracking towards the end. Your shoes felt heavy against the pavement as you stalked forwards, you heard a loud swoosh behind you and you nearly fell over at the sound. You turned your body around , expecting to be met with someone in front of you but once again there was nothing.

As if anything else couldn’t go wrong, the battery flashed on your phone letting you know it was soon about to die on you.

You felt like you were seconds away from breaking down.

“Yoongi! Where are you!?” You yelled out , your teeth were chattering uncontrollably now as you shivered. The cold wind felt painful on your cheeks . Thunder continued to rumble the dark sky and each bang of it sent a new wave of anxiety through you. You felt like you were in an actual horror film.

You turned back around and started making your way behind the building. You didn’t know where your coworker could of possibly went but it couldn’t have been far, you had only been in the restroom for a few minutes. But before you even got close to to turning the corner towards the back, you heard something drop behind you. You halted in your steps, legs feeling like actual jelly as you felt your heart beat rapidly against your rib cage.

You slowly turned your head, your eyes scanning the pavement beneath you. Your flashlight displayed a horrifying scene. A body lay just a few feet away from you. You let out a gasp, your blood running cold at the sight.

“Oh my god,” You whimpered. Your legs felt chained to the ground despite everything inside of you telling you to run. You didn’t want to face the gut wrenching reality in front of you but your body seemed to be moving on its own as you came up next to the body. You instantly regretted it , your mouth hung open in pure disbelief. You were about to empty your stomach right in that moment. The shock caused your phone fall to from your fingers with a loud clank.

You let out the most bone chilling scream at the sight of your coworker’s lifeless body in front of you. He lay in a pool of blood, ugly wounds covered the side of his neck. The blood seeped through his shirt and his empty eyes stared up ahead. His skin was devoid of any color, the once pale boy now looked practically grey in complexion. The rain caused the blood to wash off his neck, only giving you a better view of the pungent holes on each side of his neck.

“No!” You shook your head back and forth, refusing to believe your eyes. This all had to be some sick nightmare. None of this could be happening. Your hands came to cup your cheeks as you trembled, stepping back from the body.

“No! No!” You repeated as you sobbed, you covered your eyes as you shut them tightly as you continued to wail. You were completely drenched now, the salty taste of your tears mixed in with the raindrops that continued to fall against your face.

“Tsk, Tsk.” You heard a voice taunt from behind you. Complete dread washed over you as you refused to turn your head. You kept your eyes shut, somehow hoping you would wake up from this nightmare at any minute. “ It’s a shame I had to do that to your little friend but what can I say? I don’t like sharing.”

You continued to whimper pathetically as you heard the loud footsteps get closer and closer by the second.

“He was quite tasty, doll.”

That nickname.

A sickening realization coming over to you as you took note of the familiar voice. No. It couldn’t be. Your whole body continued to shake relentlessly as the footsteps continued.

“But I bet you’re tastier.” You felt his hot breath on your ear and you practically threw yourself forward, almost stumbling to the ground before you ran towards the door of the convience store. You didn’t dare look behind you as slammed the door shut, your shaky hands struggling to twist the key in the lock but you somehow managed to do it. Your mind was too panicked to even think straight and the first place you thought to hide was behind the counter. You bumped your head against it as you squatted beneath it.

You forced yourself to slow down your breathing, your hand coming to slap your mouth shut. You didn’t know what that thing was but whatever it was , you sure you were his next victim. You felt like you were about to pass out when you heard the door handle rattle followed by a loud bang. The damn jingle of the bell hit your ears and you practically felt your vision grow hazy .Your heart truly felt like it was about to stop any second.

A deep chuckle was heard as the slow paced footsteps began once again.

“How cute,” He practically cooed, genuine amusement clear in his tone. “ If you wanted to play hide and seek, you could of just said so.”

You heard his footsteps echo in the opposite direction. You let your eyes close again, trying your hardest not to let a single sound slip from your lips. The thing had broken the door. You didn’t even want to imagine the utter strength he possessed, the thought alone was close to sending you into a full panic attack.

You heard the steps halt suddenly and you held your breath. He sounded like he was near the refrigerators. You let your hand drop from your face as you moved your body over slightly, your knees met the floor and you adjusted your body into a crawling position. You needed to get out of here before he saw you.

“Boo.”

His face was right above you as he stared down at you from the other side of the counter, his body leaning over it. You screeched as you tumbled back, your backside hitting the floor. Your feet shifted as you slid your entire body back against the wall, attempting to put as much distance possible between you and him. But much to your horror, that didn’t seem to much because you saw his face perfectly even in the darkness. The familiar striking features stared back at you but now they were more terrifying than ever.

The once normal looking man now wore a deadly look on his face. Prominent purple veins covered his under eyes, stretching out to his lower cheeks. His eyes were full black orbs with no sclera. Just endless pits of darkness staring back at you. Sharp large fangs stuck out both sides of his mouth, and you saw the slightest bit of blood still coating the tips of them.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

That velvety voice certainly didn’t match the terrifying creature in front of you anymore. Another whimper left your mouth as the creature jumped over the counter with such ease, his body practically floating over it. His long legs allowed him to quick access to you. His face was right next to yours, so close that it was just a few inches from touching you. The smell of rust hit your nostrils and you squirmed in disgust but his fingers gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

You let out another choked sob when you took sight of the claws that dug into your skin. Another spine chilling realization hit you as the memory of what you had seen earlier in those bushes came flooding back.

It had been him.

Your face must have given away exactly what you were thinking because the creature suddenly grinned, tapping his clawed thumb against the side of your cheek in confirmation. You flinched as tears continued to coat your cheeks.

“He didn’t believe you, did he?”

A weep of agony left your mouth at his words.

“P-please, let me go.” You pleaded, your hands coming to tug on his own but his grip was like steel.

“Shh, don’t cry.” He hushed, tongue clicking in disapproval but all you could stare at was those fangs in front of you that threatened to attack your neck at any moment. “I forget how fragile you little humans are.”

You felt his lips brush the skin of your neck and you swore your heart was about to burst from your chest. You shut your eyes again cowardly, twisting your face away from him. It was no use, his mouth pressed against your neck fully now and your body tensed up, waiting for him to rip open your skin.

You were going to die.

Yet nothing came. No pain followed, just a wet kiss being left on your neck. You felt him let out a breathy laugh against you, your eyes fluttering open just in time to see his shoulders shake slightly.

“Relax, you’re too pretty to drain.” His claw dug into your cheek again causing you to turn your head back to him, those soulless eyes staring through you again. “And far too weak.”

His words left you stunned. His face becoming blurry due to the full tears that pooled over your eyes.

Did that mean he was going to let you go?

But he was quick to crush that small flash of hope that you assumed had crossed your eyes for even just a split second. He pouted as he shook his head, lifting your chin up higher.

“I’m afraid I like you too much to let you go, doll.” He tilted his head to the side, his eyebrow piercing managed to shine amongst the dimness, the only bit of light shining through the window coming from the flashes of lightening from the clouded sky.

“Besides,” He licked his lips, swallowing the last of the blood that must of coated his inner mouth. You were almost sure he was about to connect your lips to his but he paused and you watch his eyes gradually morph back. The whiteness returning around his dark pupil until they finally resembled those of the man who had entered the shop just a while ago.

His thumb brushed over your lips as he smirked down at you.

“Pretty little humans are useful for other things too.”

#jungkook yandere #jungkook angst #Jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook!yandere #jungkook au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts yandere #bts fanfic #bts au #bts angst #jungkook horror #bts horror #yandere!jungkook #yandere #yandere bts

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kitkatopinions · 3 years

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I feel the need to hear your opinion on this since this is something I've been thinking about recently, and it's how crwby handles complex relationships/abuse in their show... It's infuriating.

I can't tell if they genuinely think they are writing this in a good way or if they know they're half asss-ing it and don't care since the fandom will eat it up anyways. Two big examples that come to mind for me in the last volume are emerald & cinder and whitley & jacques. In both instances the the victim never gets a moment of closure or a moment of breaking away from their abuser, nor are either victims allowed to show any sort of 'hesitance' (for a lack of a better term) related to their abuse.

Emerald (despite being all over cinder before Midnight), just conveniently forgets about her for the finale. Same for whitley. He just completely forgets about jacques (the man who manipulated him from birth) the moment weiss hugs him. On a shallow level, watching a victim pay no mind to their abuser is satisfying, but it being so immediate is just unrealistic and takes away from the pain that we are supposed to think these characters have suffered.

One of the worst things about suffering from abuse is how is affects the victims even when they have left the abusive relationship, but crwby seems to want to erase that completely from characters who should experience that for plot convenience.

It seems like the lesson learned from this is "if you were abused, just get over it and be convenient to our heroes or else!" And it's pretty gross imo.

Thoughts?

I thought that I would put these two asks together and take this opportunity to talk about the abuse victims in RWBY and how they're handled. I've tried to think long and hard about what to say about this, because this is an important topic to me and something that's personal for me. I'm an abuse survivor, but I have a complicated relationship with that part of myself and I'm never really comfortable talking about it much. But despite the fact that I've experienced abuse, I recognize that I'm not a professional sensitivity editor, not a therapist, and not someone who's studied the effects of abuse.

I'm simply writing this based on my own feelings and what I've picked up witnessing other abuse victims discuss their own feelings about abused character. There will be RWBY criticism below the keep reading. Please keep in mind that I'm not speaking for all abuse survivors and am only trying to articulate my own feelings in regards to this issue.

The first thing to note is that there isn't one, correct, right way to write an abuse victim in my opinion. Lots of people have different reactions and responses to abuse, the way they were abused is often also different, causing different reactions.

In the first anon, it's noted that Emerald and Whitley both seem to move on from their abuse quickly and with very little effect on them or their stories. Many abuse victims put their experiences on the back burner or 'in a box' to deal with later, or mask and pretend that they're alright or that their abuse just didn't happen. Some of them let their feelings or their anger simmer over time. There are also abuse victims who do just... Move on with relative ease. I'd imagine that's very rare though. (again, I'm not not an expert or any sort of psychologist.)

In the same way, an abuse victim becoming an abuser in their own interactions is something that one hundred percent happens. Cinder, Salem, Adam, and even Blake and Winter have all acted in abusive ways towards the people around them (though obviously Blake and Winter acted much less abusive than any of the villains mentioned.) It might be very hard for abuse victims to not fall back into those patterns of abuse that they've suffered, especially if they go through it at an early age. I'm not very comfortable talking about my own experiences, but myself and my siblings have all had to fight down toxic, hurtful traits that we picked up either through emulating or through survival. And it's hard to do that. Portraying characters who have been abused that lost that fight and might have abusive tendencies or slip themselves is - to me at least - sometimes even helpful in working through my own feelings.

And there are definitely one hundred percent abuse victims who feel like the way they were treated is deserved, that they 'earned' it, that they must 'make up for it.' Oz is in this category. There's nothing wrong with the concept of a character who feels responsible for their abuser or the hurt their abuser has caused to others, there’s nothing wrong with a character who tends to act as though everything is their fault and who thinks very poorly of themselves.

In theory. But the problem is that in application, there are a lot of pitfalls and struggles that come with writing for abuse victims. Understanding, thoughtfulness, and care are not the RWBY writers’ strength, and any time you portray real life issues that strongly impact the real life people involved in them, you have to be aware and careful with the messages you’re sending. This is obviously very important when someone writes for any minority or oppressed group or the issues that they face, but it’s also important to remember when you write for abuse victims, because they do have stigmas around them and deal with stereotypes and harmful portrayals as well. Let’s look at what I consider some harmful or hurtful pitfalls when it comes to abused characters.

Are the abused characters treated as the victims they are? If the abuse a character faces is treated as comical, treated as unimportant, or treated as deserved, that’s an obvious major flaw. Sad to say, but RWBY does not pass this. On two separate occasions, a character is hit by someone close to them in a way that clearly causes them some pain, with Blake hitting Sun across the face for following her, and Winter hitting Weiss for answering a question incorrectly and again for failing in her training (I tend to be more sympathetic towards Blake’s situation, as it is more gray with her clearly thinking Sun had stalked her which is a clear trigger from her own abuse, but this is an explanation, not an excuse and the fact that it was framed as funny rather than something Blake shouldn’t have done and should apologize for is the problem.) They also do not treat Ozpin like the victim when Qrow punches him in the face, having no one call Qrow out for it and having him never express guilt or try to apologize for it. Yes, I know Ozpin had retreated, but they never showed Qrow even make an effort to get Ozpin to come back so he could apologize. . They also ‘redeem’ Hazel and give him a ‘partially right’ storyline despite his openly beating Ozpin, unfairly blaming him for the death of his sister, and insisting that Ozpin deserved to be tortured. On top of this, despite having been horribly abused by the SDC, Adam isn’t treated with even an ounce of sympathy or understanding and Jacques Schnee and the SDC is treated like a more comical-ish nuisance in season seven and eight. This is greatly flawed. Hitting someone because they lied to you or kept secrets from you is not okay, hitting someone because they said something you don’t like is not okay. This should not be treated as funny and it shouldn’t be treated as the fault of the person who was hit for not being a good enough friend.

Are the abused characters mostly villains, when the heroes have never faced it? The reason for this is obvious, although it’s valid to have a villain be an abuse victim, it’s never alright to villainize abuse victims. Making the majority of your bad guys abuse victims and your good guys have positive relationships is in my opinion, harmful. Point for RWBY, this is not the case for their show. Mercury, Salem, and Cinder on the bad side are all abuse victims with Raven being a possible, but unconfirmed abuse victim as well. While Weiss, Blake, Ozpin, and Whitley are also abuse victims, with Qrow and May both being possible, but unconfirmed abuse victims, and Winter and Emerald are both abuse victims who were on the side of a villain and then turned good.

Is the abuse more severe in the ‘bad’ characters and lighter in the ‘good’ characters? If the abuse that the good guys faced is mostly lighter things and the abuse that the villains suffered is worse and more severe, that might send some bad messages that people who suffer more are automatically worse people, or ‘unsalvageable’ or ‘too broken,’ as opposed to the people that ‘there’s still hope for.’ Unfortunately, I think RWBY is almost a tie? We’ve never seen Weiss or Emerald suffer more than a hit, we don’t know for sure that Whitley or Winter were ever victims of physical abuse. Ozpin and Blake’s abuse is worse, however, as they are hunted down by their abusers who attempt to murder them, make them suffer, and hurt their loved ones. They also were heavily emotionally manipulated and victim blamed by their abusers. And on the villain side, Mercury was beat by his father who hated him and stole his semblance (an extension of your soul, I believe, in canon,) and the abuse led to the loss of his limbs. Cinder was forced to work hard labor by her abusive employer and the ‘stepsisters’ treated her badly, and she was physically electrocuted. We see her abuse extend to Salem using her Grimm arm to hurt her, copying the effects of the necklace. Adam was also a child laborer who worked in terrible conditions who got his face branded by his employer, in the SDC, which had to have been anti-faunus charged due to his bull horns. We don’t see Salem ever physically abused, but know that she was mistreated, isolated, and neglected by her ‘cruel’ father. So it’s not quite a tie, there are more severely abused characters amongst the villains than the heroes, but this is close enough that I don’t consider this much of a strike against them.

In the villains, is the abuse they faced given as ‘reason’ for their villainy? As I said before, villainizing abuse victims isn’t the way to go. A good way to avoid this - I think - is not have abuse be the sole reason for someone’s fall into a life of crime or cruelty. This is something that RWBY... Fails at imo. When showing us Mercury’s backstory, we’re introduced to him through seeing that he had just killed his abuser who cost him his legs, and then gets recruited by Cinder who at the very least likely emotionally and physically abused him the same way she did with Emerald, leading to the conclusion that the only reason he’s there at all is due to abuse. However, he’s just a teen and it’s possible that (like Emerald) he’ll be redeemed. A much more condemning story to talk about is Cinder’s. After people had been clambering for a Cinder backstory since volume three, RWBY finally showed us one. But it doesn’t include Cinder meeting Salem, why she joined her, her proving herself, none of that. Instead, Cinder’s backstory was entirely focused on her abusive situation as a child, entirely focused on her suffering. Cinder killing her abusers and then killing the teacher who decided to arrest her for getting herself out of her abusive situation was portrayed as the only needed backstory, the explanation to why she’s a power hungry, abusive, cruel, selfish, and just plain evil person. ‘She was abused’ is the explanation for why Cinder is where she is and why she is who she is in RWBY. That’s highly problematic to me.

In the heroes, are they “the Perfect, Sanitized Abuse Victims?” As I said before, there is no one type of abuse victim, but if someone has several abuse victims and they’re all either submissive, sad, and self-doubting, but gentle and caring and soft or dropped their abuser like a hotcake and never looked back, never seem affected, never really talk about it after they left... That’s bothersome to me personally. Measuring how RWBY is in this particular subject is... A little harder than I thought it would be. Let’s start by looking at the most prevalent abuse victim, Blake. She’s one of the reasons why this is hard to gauge, because for the first five seasons, Blake was deeply flawed and clearly affected by her abuse in ways that made her ‘unappealing.’ Blake was cynical, stubborn, cold, hard to get to know, she didn’t trust easily, she lashed out at her friends regularly, ran from her problems, made choices for her friends, and had a very negative self image. This didn’t stop her from being a good character and friend with a lot of good sides, too, and she had real, important friendships. This was - to me - a really great portrayal of someone clearly affected by their trauma, with lots to work on, who was still a good person. Some of her faults and problems started to get resolved in a natural way through her journey with Sun in volumes four and five, but when season six came around, many of Blake’s other traits suddenly vanished. No longer stubborn, independent, or cynical, and no longer standing up for herself, or really displaying her temper or hardheadedness or her struggles with getting to know people... Blake became more submissive, sad, self-doubting, but gentle, caring, and soft. Sigh. As the first ask mentioned, Whitley and Emerald both seemed to drop their abusers quickly the second they were removed from their lives again. it’s also worth noting that Whitley was treated with nothing but coldness and contempt by Weiss until he ‘proved himself’ by doing something selfless. Weiss did more or less drop Jacques the moment she left her house in V4, only mentioning him or her experiences when she’s using it to talk about Blake, and when she confronted him again in V7, she did so as someone who is proving she no longer cares. Ozpin seems to be the only one still unable to move on from his abuse and the ‘unappealing’ abuse victim. The first anon is right, there’s something satisfying with seeing an abuse victim move on like their abuser didn’t matter. But when almost all your abuse victims do, and one of the only other ones is turned into a submissive and soft support based / romance based character, and the only really ‘unappealing’ abuse victim is someone we’re supposed to see as ‘gray’... There’s something off there, in my opinion.

Were the abuse victims treated respectfully and thoughtfully by their friends, and if not, were they portrayed as wrong? This probably isn’t something that really even needs an explanation. Abuse victims should be able to set their own boundaries and tell their stories only when they want, when they feel comfortable, Their friends should be understanding of this and not force anything from them. In the case of Blake and Weiss, this is handled really well! Their friends let them talk about their experiences in their own time, and they’re understanding and validate their feelings when it comes up (much more common with Blake than with Weiss, who like I said, seemed to move on from her dad quickly after she left.) However, when it comes to Oz... This is all wrecked. Although unintentional (no one knew how deeply tied up with Salem Ozpin was or how intimate the memories they were going to watch were,) our main characters still forced Ozpin’s deepest and most personal secrets out of him in a fit of upset while he was tearfully begging them not to. He was forced to relive his most traumatic experiences in hi-def with other people watching with him, all his secrets and all his abuse wrenched away from him in what was clearly a very painful way. And then no one showed Ozpin even the slightest bit of sympathy or understanding for what he’d gone through, and no one ever apologized for what they had forced him to relive. In fact, Team RWBY were clearly displayed as in the right, and Oz was displayed as completely wrong for not trusting them implicitly. He had to apologize to them, which they acted begrudgingly accepting of as if they hadn’t shouted at an abuse victim after forcing him to relive all his worst experiences.

Are some abuse victims portrayed as bad for things that other abuse victims aren’t portrayed as bad for? Like the second ask says, in RWBY, Cinder and Mercury are treated as villains for having killed their abusers and Cinder is almost arrested for it, it’s considered a step in the direction of their villainy. But Blake is (rightfully) treated as the victim who was forced, who had no choice, who just wanted the abuse to stop. This is hypocritical and fundamentally flawed. I think this is a reflection of the fact that Cinder and Mercury are meant to be ‘bad’ abuse victim, who had violent tendencies and anger issues, and were already featured as bad guys before their backstory’s dropped, whereas Blake was meant to be a better abuse victim who (by season six) was starting to get written as a soft girl who just wanted to help her friends.

All in all, although there’s some things that I think that RWBY did well enough, I definitely think that I would consider their portrayal of abuse victims to be lacking. This is just my opinion and the way I feel about the writing, but there are a lot of ways to look at it. I think overall, I just really wish that the RWBY writers had been a little more sensitive and spent a little longer focusing on the character arcs involved in abuse recovery. (There’s still a chance for Whitley, Weiss, and Emerald to get more focus in volume ten, though, so long as the writers don’t timeskip!)

#rwde #rwby criticism #rwby critical #rwby hate #rwby bashing #tw; abuse #trigger warning; abuse

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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hey so for the emporer luke thing would luke eventually get to see biggs/meet him cuz they're cool

As if I could leave my second fave Tatooine kid out of any OT story! Read on AO3

Biggs Darklighter was fifteen years old and he still dreamed of going to the stars someday. He was a good son, helped in the household, and took care of his younger siblings, and would his parents ask him to stay, then Biggs would. If they’d let him go though, Biggs would seek the unknown parts of the galaxy, chase after the adventures he had dreamed of ever since he was a little boy, running around in the courtyard of his family’s home or jumping up and down on Luke’s bed, pretending to be a ship in the sky.

It was strange how easily he had accepted Luke’s disappearance when he was younger. Tatooine was a harsh planet, cruel to the bone, and the death of a loved one happened far too often to be unfamiliar with how tightly life and death were woven together. He hadn’t forgotten about Luke, had mourned his friend and joined his mother on her trips to the Lars homestead, but he hadn’t let Luke’s fate dominate his every waking thought. There had been other things to worry about, such as the suddenly escalating conflicts due to Jabba’s death.

Now it seemed like the exact opposite was happening to Biggs. He couldn’t keep his friend out of his mind. The weekly trips to the Lars homestead, checking in on its state and the refugees hiding there for the next transport that would them smuggle off-world, were now spent trying to see whether Biggs could find any sign of His Imperial Highness in the murals and carvings they had made into Luke’s bedroom walls as children. He had been there when they had found Beru and Owen’s bodies, eleven years old and wondering whether Luke had made used of his uncanny ability to hide away so that he hadn’t been killed too. His aunt and uncle had been half-buried in the sand already, left behind to rot without a proper funeral. It had been easy to figure out what exactly had caused their deaths and what it meant for Luke. In the aftermath, when the news of Jabba’s violent end had reached even the Darklighters, they had traveled to the palace and the nearby city once, trying to see if anybody had heard of a child by the name of Luke Skywalker, but nobody had known a thing.

And then, just a year later, Luke had appeared again.

The Republic had never really cared about Tatooine and neither had the Empire, but even they had heard rather quickly about the Emperor’s death and his heir.

The Luke in the holos had looked like a doll, fake and imaginary, like a wind spirit. His face hadn’t been any different, it still matched the one Biggs remembered, but nothing else seemed to fit, not his name, not even his accent.

And yet he had been sure that the child appearing in front of the Senate was his friend.

All that had remained from Luke Skywalker were his blue eyes, the blond hair and the kindness that had made the other children scoff at him. Luke had been too good to understand, to naïve or perhaps he just hadn’t cared for their petty words. Biggs hadn’t known how he could smile so openly when the others took their teasing to far, but Luke had never lowered his head, at least not where he could see it.

Biggs missed his best friend, the one who would help him fix up old droids and fly speeders and skyhoppers more accurately than anybody else, even though he really shouldn’t be able to do so. Luke would certainly have the time of his life now, rushing across the sands at maximum speed, the wind hitting his face so harshly it almost cut into it. Luke had always enjoyed listening to the wind, from the sweet breezes in spring to the heavy sandstorms towards the end of drought season. Being stuck inside with nothing to do hadn’t been too bad with Luke around to narrate what the wind was telling him.

The distance between the Darklighter homestead and the Lars’ Rest, as they had come to call that safehouse, wasn’t too large. Biggs crossed it quickly even in his slightly beat-up ride that could use an upgrade or two. As far as he knew, no runaways should be staying there for the remainder of the week until they got the next group through. There were fewer and fewer slaves in need of transport nowadays. Tatooine was still, as it had been for the last years since Luke’s disappearance, caught in civil war between the former Hutt slaves, freedom fighters, whatever good soul they could convince to join their cause and those crime syndicates who sought to make use of cheap labor. Where the Hutts had that thought they could reclaim Tatooine quickly following Jabba’s death, Tatooine had wanted to prove them wrong. More and more slaves had escaped every day, more people stood up to fight for what they believed to be right.

Biggs wasn’t allowed to do much, not really. His older sister and her partners were heavily involved in the fights while Biggs could only do supply runs. He knew they were important, but he itched to do something more proactive.

But perhaps that wouldn’t be necessary anymore.

It had become more and more obvious that the Hutts were also a thorn in the side of the Empire and whoever was actually pulling the strings behind their Emperor was set to do something about it. There had been skirmishes so far, a few imprisonments. Nothing too large yet, but the horizon was darkening and if the last years had shown anything, then that the Empire didn’t tolerate disobedience. Biggs wasn’t sure how it would influence Tatooine at large. He didn’t know all that much about the way the Hutts operated on a galactic scale, but he figured that whatever took their attention away from Tatooine, even if just for a while, was good.

Soon Biggs was approaching Lars’ Rest and was surprised to see figures standing in the distance. Biggs frowned and slowed down his craft. He was absolutely certain that no group should be coming in today. The position of Lars’ Rest was kept quiet so that no slaver would discover this particular hideout. The only other groups that knew of it were smugglers and the sand people, though they hardly bothered coming down the underground tracks these days. They had decided to target moisture farms far deeper into their territory or, in the case of some clans who were not as isolated, target the rich of Tatooine so the poor would cease trying to expand further into the desert.

Biggs reached for his rifle. If they were slavers, he had to be ready. It was obvious that he was doing supply runs, who else would be out here, and if they took him, that could be disastrous for the whole organization.

Tatooine was a horrible planet to plan an ambush on. Sand for miles, the open desert, and skies, nothing could hide you or provide adequate cover. Once your enemy spotted you, that was it.

Biggs could of course leave, drive back home. They didn’t keep anything too incriminating at their homestead, so even if they were to follow him, there was be nothing to be found there. And yet, somehow, Biggs couldn’t bring himself to do so as anger flared up in his stomach like the midday heat.

That house had belonged to his best friend. It was supposed to be a safe haven now when before its inhabitants had found death or worse. Nobody had any right to ruin those memories.

With newfound bravery and strength, Biggs sped up again. He was a good shot, the best in his family, he’d definitely hit them before they could shoot him.

As Biggs got closer, he saw that the group was larger than he had thought at first. Ten, perhaps fifteen figures. He had been confused because their forms had not been easy to make out with the sun bearing down on their light uniforms, no, armor. The armor was mostly white, but some patterns appeared to have been drawn on it. He saw the green ones first, their color standing out the most against the yellow and blue background of Tatooine. Then there some men with blue, orange, and red patterns, those being much harder to see. Biggs’ eyes were good, but not that excellent.

Nevertheless, he readied his rifle. It was easy to get stormtrooper uniform, and to paint it in the color of the Emperor’s guard was even easier.

Biggs took aim. He wasn’t going to shoot unprovoked, but he was going to shoot first if the situation escalated.

“Hey!” He shouted once he was within hearing distance. “Get the hell out of here!”

As expected, the armed men immediately raised their weapons as well. Biggs didn’t know why they hadn’t done that the moment they had seen him. Now that he was standing in front of them, Biggs wasn’t so sure his move had been the smartest. There were way too many of them and only one him.

“Move away,” one of the troopers, a red one, said.

His armor looked pristine, the paint new. This has to be a trick, though he no idea what somebody would get from parading around in trooper armor here. There were certainly more effective ways to pretend to have more power than you actually did on this planet.

“This land doesn’t belong to you,” Biggs said, forcing his voice not to waver. “Move.”

“Listen here, kid,” one of the troopers said, then suddenly stopped talking. Another man had put his hand on the man’s shoulder and leaned forward, probably telling him something. Even though Biggs couldn’t see their faces, they didn’t look too concerned by it all

“I’m not joking!” Biggs insisted and raised his blaster just a little more, set on using it if need be. “I will-“

“Biggs?”

The voice was barely louder than a whisper, certainly not above the noise the wind and the engine were making, and yet Biggs still heard it clearly.

“Your Majesty-“ The red trooper hissed, but in between the trooper’s bodies, a smaller form pushed through.

The person was short, but not as by far not as tall as the holos made him out to be. His hair had darkened as well, wasn’t the light blond Biggs remembered, but the eyes, clear blue, were definitely the same.

“Luke?” Biggs couldn’t believe it.

His clothes were far too fine for Tatooine, at least for standing outside where sand could easily get stuck everywhere on your skin. His robes looked soft and were decorated with gold and red lines interconnecting to images reminiscent of flowers and vines.

The boy's face split into a smile and he looked like he’d jump into a sprint if not for the trooper’s hand on his shoulder.

“Biggs! It really is you!” Luke said excitedly. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. I was hoping someone would look after the farm, but I-“

He cut himself off to shake his head, a gesture so familiar that it had to be Luke standing in front of him, brilliant pilot, Emperor of the galaxy.

Biggs hurried off his speeder and fell to his knees.

#ask #tiny emperor luke au #star wars #biggs darklighter #luke skywalker #fanfic #anon

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lyriquette · 3 years

Text

RWBY farming au

Conceived in the Frosen Steel server, a RWBY farming / hydroponics AU. I’ll probably use some of the ideas in this for Rising Snow. Mostly background with scattered pieces of actual fic. - lilac

If people don’t mind this format, I’ll probably post similar world-building AUs in the future.

Featuring: Penny Polendina, Oscar Pine, Whitley Schnee.

Because of the freezing cold and the years of industrialization in Mantle, Mantle/Atlas soil is incredibly poor for growing plants. Most food product is imported from Vale, and in turn Atlas supports Vale in terms of sharing their technology. It's why the two Kingdoms are more modern in appearance than the other two kingdoms, not to mention that they were originally good allies during the Great War.

In this AU, Watts develops his murder machines first and ends up winning whatever contract Atlas was offering. The Penny Project is later realized by Pietro, and Pietro later resigns as he picks up on the increasing militarization in Atlas as if General Ironwood was preparing something big - and he wanted his daughter not to be involved.

Pietro decides to move down to the Crater in Mantle to facilitate that. That way no one would know about Penny. He then creates a small shop to help repair electronics and create prosthetics for the unfortunate. It’s through this change in locale that Penny learns how bad things are down at Mantle.

The main reason is food. Though Atlas and Mantle do have greenhouses, they're only able to supply food for a small amount of people - and it's usually just to the rich who want to eat fresh produce up in Atlas. The rest of the food is imported and thus expensive. In a way, food is a means to keep Mantle underneath Atlas's thumb because if its citizens don't work, they can't eat. If they quit, someone else would gladly take that job just to feed themselves and their family. Thus, a cycle of control is created where people simply can't break free of the poor conditions nor could they really complain, because to them it's happening everywhere.

The SDC is the main actor in that, given their non-essential businesses are everywhere. If they decide to forcibly close down those businesses, many many people would be out of a job and likely die. Whether the government would act or not is a coin flip - the SDC needs Mantle for labor, but Atlas could run effectively without it - they have robots for labor, the rich for funding, and a military arm in the form of Atlas Academy.

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

Most of the Faunus who lived in the Crater did not trust Penny and Pietro at first, but given Pietro's generosity and Penny's kind demeanor, they slowly warm up to them. The White Fang within Atlas is more of a community hub that supports each other because they can't afford to be militant; attacks of SDC buildings end up having extremely bad repercussions on Mantle Faunus which includes unofficial anti-Faunus hiring policies or firings - the whim of the SDC can easily kill a couple thousand of them from that alone.

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

Penny initially started this project, not because she wanted to change the world, but because her father had been getting more sick lately, getting thinner, and starting to get sores in his gums and bleeding more easily. She later on would learn that these were signs of malnutrition - scurvy - things that those living more centrally in Mantle or up in Atlas didn't get but was a problem now because of where they lived. Though buying vitamin supplements did help, it didn't quite replace actual food - and nutrients were often better absorbed and palated in the form of food, especially when it came to the nonessential but still important minerals.

However, she knew that things simply did not grow in Mantle. And the things that did grow were usually hardy weeds turned poisonous due to absorbing heavy metals from the ground. It was all too common to see a desperate man or woman just collapse shaking from eating too many wild weeds because they couldn't eat anything else. Maybe one day, they could plant enough weeds to help improve Mantle's soil quality, but it didn't help her dad now.

She's heard of hydroponics before. It wasn't exactly a secret; however, the science was in its infancy stages. Part of it was because people in the food importing business did not want others to grow cheap, domestic food - greenhouses were already bad enough for them. However, the main reason was that people didn't quite know what made plants succeed in growing and creating produce (farmers were the least likely people to work in permanently cold Solitas) - usually the plants failed to germinate, died drooping (overwatering), or end up growing but don't create produce (never bore fruit). Even though there was limited success, the yield would be extremely poor, and the amount of time and energy could've just be used to create another greenhouse instead.

But this was okay for Penny cause all she really had was time and energy. And it wasn't like she was selling food. She just wanted to grow produce, so her dad could eat healthier.

Her dad supported her efforts by getting the short experiment logs of the initial hydroponics projects at Atlas. And it became clear to Penny that there were many holes in that research with the main factor being that there was not an actual farmer to help with the research. And with the arrogance of Atlasian scientists (Watts being the archetypical example), who would bring a down-to-earth farmer who knew nothing of science and the like? Lacking expertise and knowing that the entirety of Atlas would be of no help, Penny sought the CCT for assistance.

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

Oscar didn't particularly like farming. He wanted to become a Hunter, but his aunt wouldn't let him. Too dangerous, she said. He might end up mixing with the darker elements of Mistral because of it, not to mention the fact he’d be fighting the Grimm on a regular basis. Better to be a farmer in central Mistral with a nice stable income like how his parents and their parents and their parents' parents lived.

Still, he never complained out loud. After going to school in the morning, he helped worked the fields in the afternoon, the same as the other farmhands like his uncle and his cousins. He was living under their roof, and he knew it was hard to provide for a thirteen-year old who was just starting his growth spurt. He probably ate more than his aunt and his baby cousins combined now. And their family generously paid for his living conditions without forcing him into anything he didn't want to do.

As of late, he's been a bit happier with his lot in life. Using the CCT, someone from Solitas had contacted him in regard to farming - about how they wanted to grow things in Mantle and potentially revolutionize the lives of people there. But they couldn't due to the soil being bad. In what way, he didn't particularly know. They discussed the issue with each other through voice-chat, talking about their very different lives and even the possibility of something called hydroponics - honestly, it felt like finding a kindred spirit. And he looked forward to the days he could talk things out with his new friend.

"Hey, wait. Check this out," Oscar said as he checked the CCT forums, "Your thread got replied too."

"Really?" said a bewildered voice on the other line.

"Yeah, a Penny123 is asking about farming in Mantle too. Even mentioned hydroponics."

"...Let's try bringing this Penny in."

"You sure, Whitley?"

"Yeah. As much as I want us to keep the credit, it's not like we're going anywhere right now. Maybe this person will have new ideas."

==========

So a duo became a trio. And Whitley was right. What Penny brought to the table was the scientific expertise. She might not know how hydroponics actually worked, but she did have the means to analyze the soil content (retrofitting some of her sensors for more specialized purposes) and simply put - she was a scientist. On the other hand, Oscar had the farming expertise - he knew what soils worked well with which crop, the habits of each plant he grew, he knew what plants liked more water and which ones preferred less, and what a plant should like when it was growing well.

Whitley was the odd duck in the group. First of all, he wasn't quite doing it for altruism's sake. He was doing it because he disliked his family - and really hated the Schnee Dust Company, seeing that it's responsible for his mother's drinking, his parents' loveless marriage, Winter abandoning the rest of the family for Ironwood and the Hunters/Huntresses, and Weiss's likely plans to abandon ship on him too (he's angry at her for that, but after having Oscar to confide in, it wasn't as bad as being left alone and isolated completely.)

He's also responsible for making sure that his two partners weren't murdered in their sleep. Going this route infringes upon the interests of several major corporations including the SDC and the food import companies. Seeds and food products coming from and going to Solitas were tracked very closely. Penny is also given some chilling news from Whitley: people have tried building greenhouses at the Crater before, and all of them were destroyed without a perpetrator to be found.

The danger was serious enough that Oscar was also planning to move to Solitas to not implicate his aunt and uncle when he and Whitley finally started the project in earnest. With Penny around, Oscar potentially had a place to stay (Oscar also was like "i can do heavy lifting, the dishes, cooking, farming, etc" as part of his self-advertisement).

Even Whitley acknowledges that he himself might not be safe. One wrong move on his part - and well, if his father was able to endure nearly a decade of loveless marriage just to take over the SDC, there's no telling what he'll do when he realizes he's working against his interests.

Penny needs some time to think. She now knows that her tiny project of letting her father eat better is connected to the livelihoods of so many and also brings a lot of danger along with it. Not just to herself but to her father - her dad would also be a target if things go south. With her partners’ agreement (since it's inevitable Pietro would get wind of things since the project will be occurring in his house), Penny talks to her dad about the hydroponics / farming project. He's worried for her but understands what she wants to do - she's filled with purpose now and wants to help the people out. As much as he's scared for her and doesn't want her to do this, he can't help but feel a bit of pride about his daughter growing up. Still, he makes her promise that as soon as things start looking bad, they'll stop. They'll quit and not look back. He asks to speak to the other two, not quite realizing they're a pair of thirteen-year olds, and extracts the same promise for their sake.

------

As plans for moving and gathering soil samples are being made, Pietro starts building Floating Array.

Penny begins dragging several abandoned shipping containers to the "backyard" of their store, saying her dad needed some raw material for experimentation when in reality it's gonna be where the heart of their project is.

Weiss starts getting worried about her younger, now constantly sneaking around and speaking to the scroll in hushed tones. She overhears part of his conversation - about how he'd get in a lot of trouble for a certain course of action (directly smuggling goods in using his authority) - and worries that he's getting bullied.

Oscar tells his family that his friend found him a job working as an engineer's assistance in Solitas, and he'd like to stay there for a year. His place of employment has already paid for the transcontinental ticket.

#rwby #rwby fic #rwby au #penny polendina #whitley schnee #oscar pine #farming au #lilac writes #throws my au at the universe

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buck-nialled · 4 years

Text

Protector of Girlfriend - N. Horan Imagine

NOTE: a continuation to my angel!niall imagine “Featherlight”, where he meets your parents.

Typically, when you bring the topic of meeting the family up to your significant other, it would leave him shaking in his boots. At least, that was how your prior boyfriends would react to the proposal. And each one you asked always had some excuse, whether it be that they felt it was “too soon” even though you brought the idea up six months into the relationship. Another past affair claimed his job was more important, a big red flag which was an impetus for you to call things off with him soon after.

You were awaiting a similar reaction from Niall when you invited him hesitantly over dinner and asked how he would feel introducing himself formerly to your parents. It is times like these, where your heart was pounding in anticipation and the pauses for his answers felt too long. All of the possible scenarios in how could he say “no” were reeling in your mind like a film.

Until you remember that Niall Horan is an angel at heart.

He did not believe in bad days. Hell, he did not believe the adjective “bad” or any word near it could describe anything. After nearly burning your house down trying to cook him a meal, he ate the charred chicken sparingly and called it “toasty.” Any time it rains, he thinks of all the plants that need watering and all of the cars that could use a hefty washing. Yours included, which you always seemed to forget needed proper maintenance on its exterior. So when you prompted Niall to join you on your next visit to your parent’s house, he was overjoyed.

This only meant he was a step closer to you in your relationship. He would finally meet the woman who cared for you nine months and the eighteen years afterward before he had the chance to. Niall found honor in the thought of introducing himself to the man who thought of his kind like he thought everybody should; caring, endearing, protective.

One minor detail that you failed to mention to your parents was that Niall was not one hundred percent human, as he appeared to be on their doorstep the following week. He donned a navy blue button-down, which made his charming blue eyes pop. Glasses framed his eyes and complemented the tan slacks that made him look overall mature and worthy of looking after somebody's daughter.

Niall’s warm hand met your father’s, who held a gaze so cold, he almost felt tremors run down his spine and to the tips of his hidden wings. Your father was an intimidating man only by appearance. Secretly, he was a big softie but would rather die than to admit such a thing. You and him both knew he was only interested in why this one boyfriend of yours out of many agreed to meet him and your mother (who took in Niall with open arms).

You could see Niall’s tense stance physically relax as your mother took him in her embrace. Something you and your mother both had in common, Niall informed you later, was the calming aura both of you held. And the fact that you both give great hugs and could not cook a proper meal to save your lives.

Following the initial, interrogating questions thrown at him over the dinner table, Niall had your father finally warming up to him. You think it was when Niall brought up his passion for golfing that your father was internally swooning. In fact, when Niall first mentioned his infatuation for the sport, a small part of you thought ahead to the exact moment when he and your father would rattle on about it endlessly.

Towards the end of the night, you squeezed Niall’s hand that rested atop of your thigh and looked towards him. He nodded to confirm he was ready to share his secret with your parents and cued you to introduce it. Though his heart rate was unusually rapid, Niall kept his posture appropriate and the food in his stomach.

“So mom, dad there’s uh…something you should know about Niall.” You bit your lip and felt the man sitting beside you tighten his grip on your hand.

“What is it, hun?” Your mom was curious, but your dad was suspicious. He sat back in his seat, arms crossed and an eyebrow quirked you show he was somewhat interested.

“Your daughter tells me you’ve met angels, sir.” Niall’s voice shrunk as he neared closer to the word. “Is that correct?”

"Angels...oh Y/N don't tell me you told him-" A sigh of disdain left your father's lips making your heartbeat catch up to Niall's in an instant. "Honey, those were just silly old stories I used to make up." Your father waved his hand about as if the topic were a fly he was swatting away. You felt your bottom lip jut out in a slight pout, now feeling doubtful about sharing Niall's secret at the table.

"B-but you used to tell me about all the angels you met. And-and what they were like and--"

"Those were just to get you to sleep, darling. I didn't know you took them so seriously. Nobody's seen an angel on earth unless they're crazy." He scoffs, lifting his glass of iced water to his lips to take a sip.

"I'm not crazy," you mutter under your breath, your eyebrows turning downward. Niall squeezes your hand in comfort, though it feels like you should be the one doing that to him.

"So...so you don't think they're real?" You can tell this topic is aggravating your father the more you talk about it, but you could not deny your interest in his philosophy.

"I can't believe in something that isn't there, Y/N. I know there have been "sightings" and such but c'mon...those things are as real as bigfoot." He declares. Eyes wide and tainted with sadness, you look to your mother for her take on it.

"Honey, we just told you those stories because you liked listening to them. We thought eventually you'd find out they weren't real. Like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy." She shrugs, helpless to your downtrodden state.

"But what if they are real?" Your parents look up at you, along with Niall. The table is silent for a few seconds, egging you to continue. "I-I mean...what if I told you I saw one."

"Honey...are you on drugs?" Your father's tone hardens, face filled with befuddlement at what you were spewing at them.

"No, I just--"

"Then how did you see it?" Your father's voice cut through your own, which was growing meek.

"It...showed me." You murmur. "It showed me its...wings."

"Showed you its...forget it. If you're on something--"

"I'm not--" you begin refuting, almost laughing in disbelief by how isolated your father's mind could be.

"Whatever you're doing, don't do it under my roof. Okay? Good. We're done talking about this, then."

"But dad--"

"I said, end of discussion Y/N."

Moments of silence passed, the only noises being made was a heavy sigh of defeat leaving your chest, and your mother clinking her silverware against the plate. But another thing you and your mother had in common was your abomination of awkward silences. Just as Niall's stiff frame was about to relax in the dining chair again, your mother asked, "what was that thing we should know about Niall?"

Your lips parted, and your eyes turned up to meet his fearful blue ones. You certainly had not planned for any answer other than the truth. But clearly, your father would refuse to listen to it. And frankly, you were scared of what his reaction would be if Niall did sprout his pair right now, considering the conversation which had just transpired.

"My house...it's quite spacious. Y/N's lease is going to be up in a few months...I was wanting to get your permission first to have her move in with me. It's got a couple of guest rooms. You two are welcome to spend the night for yourselves anytime and see." Niall sputtered out with a few shaky breaths in between.

"Why, that sounds lovely." Your mother sent a smile in Niall's direction while your father just hummed, staring down at the porcelain cleared of food. After that, dinner concluded with Niall offering to help your mother clear the table and wash the dishes. You stayed behind with your father, who sat unmoving in the wooden dining chair.

"I'm not on anything, by the way." You mumble with a frown on your face. "Never have been. Never will be."

"You sure about that?" He remarks and flicks his eyes to the kitchen when he hears your mother and Niall giggling through their conversation.

"He hasn't done anything either. I just...wanted to know your thoughts on the subject."

"I told you we aren't talking anymore abo--"

"I know that. Just forget I brought it up...it's stupid." You say upon turning your heel and pivoting back towards the hall. You see Niall and your mother standing in the kitchen's doorway and you spare neither a glance as you trudge down the hallway.

Due to your childhood home being quaint in its size, your father (with some reluctance) agreed for you and Niall to share your bed. The only rule he enforced was that no funny business would occur beneath his roof, which Niall promised he would follow. One thing you did not miss about staying overnight at the house was your old bedroom. Particularly your bed, still unchanged from when you had moved to college with the same itchy comforter, firm pillows, and hellish mattress that was littered with bumps and divots in the worst places. But somehow, like everything else, Niall made it better.

He let a small groan fall from his lips as he rested up against the headboard. The wife-beater he adorned underneath his button-up was grabbed by his fingers and flung off of his body in seconds.

“Not that I’m complaining…” you begin, allowing your fingers to run up and down Niall’s stomach, “but my dad said no funny business, remember?” You look up at Niall, raising your eyebrows at him.

He simply shook his head. “Not what I had in mind.” His breathing grew labored, and at the sight of the muscles flexing in his back, you turned away. You loved this man, but even after shifting a dozen times in front of you, your eyes could not bear to witness it.

A sudden softness enveloped your body, warming you up to the perfect temperature and acting as a safety blanket. One of Niall’s wings supported your back as no mattress could, and you felt your body sink into it like quicksand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d totally make a blanket out of these things…” you moan out, sandwiched between Niall’s chest and wing. He looked frightened but noted to take it as a compliment rather than a threat.

His wing flexed against your side and brought you even closer in proximity to his face, which resulted in your lips connecting moments later. When they parted, you opened your eyes to a blurred sight of Niall, bare-chested, and with a frown at the sight of tears racing down your cheeks. One of his hands came to rest on the back of your head, before gently urging it down to meet his chest.

"I'm so sorry." You repeated, sobbing against his warm skin and sniffling in between words. "I'm so sorry." Niall only shushed you and combed his fingers through your locks in comfort. It was his way of saying apologies were not necessary, especially from you.

"I thought they'd be more understanding. Or at least..at least l-listen to me." Your throat tightened as your breaths became more labored. You tried matching the rising and falling of Niall's chest while still keeping your cheek against it but it proved to be a challenge with a new onslaught of tears pouring from your eyes every few seconds.

"I want them to love you. I want them to accept you and know you as I do."

"They do accept me," Niall replied, thinking back to all the good parts of dinner, and even afterward with your mother in the kitchen. You simply shook your head against his chest and looked up at him with your eyes stinging.

"Not all of you." Your whisper was cracked and made it difficult for Niall to continue comforting you. Admittedly, he was a bit offended by your father's visceral reaction to dispute his kind's existence. However, it was clear you felt a new level of heartbreak over the dinner table.

"But some of me. And that's a start, right?" All you could do for a moment was stare at him in awe. Pure disbelief ran through you at his response.

"How can you still be so positive after all of this?"

"Well, I still have one person who will accept me...and she's right here in my arms, snuggling me. What more could I need?" His gaze was heartfelt and sincere as he stared down at you. Your tears were slowly dissipating by each blink of your eyelids, now feeling incredibly heavy.

"Hey," Niall says in a hushed tone, "wanna hear a story? A real one?" Your lips curled up and you shook your head up and down, wrapping an arm around Niall's abdomen.

"It's about this angel named Niall, you may have heard of him. The boy was a bit big on the whole "love at first sight thing" but he'd never truly experienced it. Until one day, the most gorgeous human you'd ever seen came along..."

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newstfionline · 3 years

Text

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Beating The Heat Is Out Of Reach (IPCC, AP News) The U.N.’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) published a shocker of a report Monday summarizing the latest authoritative scientific information about global warming. 234 scientists contributed to the 3,000-plus-page report. Global temperatures have already risen by 2 degrees Fahrenheit (1.1 degrees Celsius) since the 19th century, the highest in over 100,000 years. Further warming is already “locked in,” meaning even if emissions are drastically cut, some changes will be “irreversible” for centuries. Ice melt and sea-level rise are already accelerating, and wild weather events like heatwaves and storms are expected to worsen and become more frequent. Earth is warming so fast that by the 2030s, temperatures will probably exceed the Paris climate accord’s ideal goal of no more than 2.7 degrees Fahrenheit and 1.5 degrees Celsius by the year 2100. The report called it a “code red for humanity.”

Infrastructure bill approved in Senate (AP) With a robust vote after weeks of fits and starts, the Senate approved a $1 trillion infrastructure plan for states coast to coast on Tuesday, as a rare coalition of Democrats and Republicans joined together to overcome skeptics and deliver a cornerstone of President Joe Biden’s agenda. “Today, we proved that democracy can still work,” Biden declared at the White House, noting that the 69-30 vote included even Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell. The overwhelming tally provided fresh momentum for the first phase of Biden’s “Build Back Better” priorities, now heading to the House. A sizable number of lawmakers showed they were willing to set aside partisan pressures, at least for a moment, eager to send billions to their states for rebuilding roads, broadband internet, water pipes and the public works systems that underpin much of American life. The measure proposes nearly $550 billion in new spending over five years in addition to current federal authorizations for public works that will reach virtually every corner of the country. There’s money to rebuild roads and bridges, and also to shore up coastlines against climate change, protect public utility systems from cyberattacks and modernize the electric grid. Public transit gets a boost, as do airports and freight rail. Most lead drinking water pipes in America could be replaced.

COVID vaccines to be required for military under new US plan (AP) Members of the U.S. military will be required to get the COVID-19 vaccine beginning next month under a plan laid out by the Pentagon Monday and endorsed by President Joe Biden. In memos distributed to all troops, top Pentagon leaders said the vaccine is a necessary step to maintain military readiness. Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin said the mid-September deadline could be accelerated if the vaccine receives final FDA approval or infection rates continue to rise. “I will seek the president’s approval to make the vaccines mandatory no later than mid-September, or immediately upon” licensure by the Food and Drug Administration “whichever comes first,” Austin said in his memo, warning them to prepare for the requirement.

For first time, average pay for supermarket and restaurant workers tops $15 an hour (Washington Post) The U.S. labor market hit a new milestone recently: For the first time, average pay in restaurants and supermarkets climbed above $15 an hour. Wages have been rising rapidly as the economy reopens and businesses struggle to hire enough workers. Some of the biggest gains have gone to workers in some of the lowest-paying industries. Overall, nearly 80 percent of U.S. workers now earn at least $15 an hour, up from 60 percent in 2014. Job sites and recruiting firms say many job seekers won’t even consider jobs that pay less than $15 anymore. For years, low-paid workers fought to make at least that much. Now it has effectively become the new baseline. Economists caution that a higher average wage is not the same as a $15 minimum wage. Half of workers in these industries are still making below $15 an hour. Nonetheless, rising pay is still a game-changer for millions of workers.

Dry California tourist town to guests: ‘Please conserve’ (AP) Tourists flock by the thousands to the coastal town of Mendocino for its Victorian homes and cliff trails, but visitors this summer are also finding public portable toilets and signs on picket fences pleading: “Severe Drought. Please conserve water.” Hotels have closed their lobby bathrooms and residents have stopped watering their gardens in the foggy outpost about 150 miles (240 kilometers) north of San Francisco after two years of little rain sapped many of the wells Mendocino depends on for potable water. Mendocino’s water woes were compounded in recent weeks when the city of Fort Bragg a few miles to the north—its main backup water supplier—informed officials that it, too, had a significant drop in its drinking water reserves after the Noyo River recorded its lowest flows in decades. “This is a real emergency,” said Ryan Rhoades, superintendent of the Mendocino City Community Services District, which helps manage the water in the town’s aquifer.

Nicaragua recalls four LatAm ambassadors in tit-for-tat move (Reuters) Nicaragua has recalled its ambassadors to Mexico, Argentina, Colombia and Costa Rica for “consultations,” the government said on Monday, deepening the Central American country’s international isolation over its crackdowns on the opposition. Mexico, Argentina and Colombia recently recalled their ambassadors to protest against moves to clamp down on the opposition in Nicaragua, while Costa Rica a few weeks ago suspended the appointment of its ambassador to the country. On Saturday, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken accused Ortega of taking new “undemocratic, authoritarian actions.” Blinken also singled out Ortega’s wife, Nicaraguan Vice President Rosario Murillo, and said the two were seeking to hold on to power “at all costs” with a strategy of disqualifying potential opposition candidates. Nicaragua is due to hold presidential elections in November in which Ortega is seeking a fourth consecutive term.

Twelve Days In Office, and Crisis Swamps Peru’s Leftist President (Bloomberg) Peru’s new president is off to a rocky start, selecting contentious ministers, alienating allies and setting the stage for a brutal face-off with congress, all within days of taking office. A rural teacher and union activist, Pedro Castillo won the election after reassurances that he’s his own man, not beholden to his party’s Marxist ideology or chief. But when he named his cabinet—including a prime minister who’s under investigation for being an alleged apologist for terrorists—analysts, opposition figures and even some who’d backed him expressed alarm, so much so that the word “impeachment” was heard more than once. “His political capital went up in smoke in 24 hours,” said Rodolfo Rojas, a partner of the Lima-based Sequoia political advisory group. “If he doesn’t change course, there’s no future for him.” Impeachment isn’t imminent, Rojas said, but a clash with congress looks likely. And while Peru has made a habit of ousting presidents, it’s rare for such a discussion to take place within days of inauguration.

French wine production set for a 30-percent drop (Washington Post) A confluence of weather woes is hurting France’s wine harvest. First, there was severe frost in the spring, which laid the foundation for disaster by damaging 30 percent of the production. Then, torrential summer rains hit western Europe in July, leaving parts of Germany and Belgium ravaged by floods, and leading to fungal attacks on grapes and their leaves in France. All of this has set France up for a wine supply drop of 24 to 30 percent this year—the lowest output since 1970, France’s farm ministry said Friday. For champagne, harvest potential has been slashed in half, some producers warned. In Italy, the world’s largest wine producer, high temperatures in the south caused an early harvest, while heavy rains in the north caused a late harvest, according to farmers association Coldiretti. Output is estimated to fall by 5 to 10 percent.

'We fought a great battle': Greece defends wildfire response (AP) As Greece’s massive wildfires were being largely tamed Tuesday, the country’s civil protection chief defended the firefighting efforts, saying every resource was thrown into the battle against what he described as the fire service’s biggest-ever challenge. Nikos Hardalias said authorities “truly did what was humanly possible” against blazes that destroyed tens of thousands of hectares (acres) of forest and hundreds of homes, killed a volunteer firefighter and forced more than 60,000 people to flee. Two other firefighters were in intensive care with severe burns. “We handled an operationally unique situation, with 586 fires in eight days during the worst weather conditions we’ve seen in 40 years,” Hardalias told a news conference. “Never was there such a combination of adverse factors in the history of the fire service.” Greece had just experienced its worst heat wave since 1987, which left its forests tinder-dry. Other nearby nations such as Turkey and Italy also faced the same searing temperatures and quickly spreading fires.

Smoke from Siberia wildfires reaches north pole in historic first (Guardian) Smoke from raging forest fires in Siberia has reached the north pole for the first time in recorded history, as a Russian monitoring institute warned the blazes were worsening. Devastating wildfires have ripped across Siberia with increasing regularity over the past few years, which Russia’s weather officials and environmentalists have linked to climate change and an underfunded forest service. One of Siberia’s hardest-hit regions this year has been Yakutia – Russia’s largest and coldest region that sits atop permafrost – which has had record high temperatures and drought. On Saturday, the US space agency Nasa said its satellite images showed wildfire smoke travelling “more than 3,000km (1,800 miles) from Yakutia to reach the north pole”, calling it “a first in recorded history”. It added that on 6 August most of Russia was covered in smoke. According to Russia’s forestry agency, this year’s fires have ravaged more than 14m hectares, making it the second-worst fire season since the turn of the century.

Lockdowns In Manila (Guardian) The more aggressive Delta variant of COVID-19 has led to record case numbers in countries across Southeast Asia. Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia, and Vietnam have reported record cases in recent weeks. The variant was detected in the Philippines in mid-July and has spread to 13 of 17 regions. On Friday, the national capital region of Manila, with a population of almost 14 million, was placed under strict lockdown until August 20 in an attempt to slow the spread. Only authorized people, including those buying food, traveling for medical reasons, or frontline workers are allowed to go outside. The day before the lockdown went into effect, thousands rushed to vaccination centers and waited for hours hoping to get a shot. Rumors had spread that unvaccinated people wouldn’t be allowed to claim government aid or go outside.

Taliban Capture Sixth Provincial Capital (Foreign Policy) The Taliban’s advance across Afghanistan continued on Monday with the capture of Aibak, the capital of Samangan province, marking the sixth provincial capital to fall to the group in less than a week. Monday’s seizure was hastened by the defection of Asif Azimi—a prominent warlord with ties to the now defunct Northern Alliance—a worrying sign of shifting allegiances due to a rapidly changing situation on the ground. As the fighting drags on, pressure is building on President Ashraf Ghani to get a handle on the situation or get out of the way. Reports in Bloomberg and the Wall Street Journal paint a picture of an isolated leader whose best hope lies in rallying support from anti-Taliban groups ahead of an all-out civil war.

#headlines #news

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ave-aria · 4 years

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ROTG Hope Week

Happy Easter, everybody! This was written for Hope Week, in response to these darker days we’re going through. Who can’t use a little extra hope?

Day 1: Hope Wordcount: 3,305 Tw: Coronavirus, Covid 19 Pairings: Jack/Bunnymund

Kudos to Chaos Incarnate for giving me the idea for the title. ;)

Can I Offer You A Nice Egg In These Trying Times?

"Whaddya mean, Easter's cancelled?"

Bunnymund's voice rang through the Warren, scattering the herds of unpainted eggs at his feet. Jack, however, remained unmoved. He crouched atop his staff, toes curling into the wood as he stared down at the Easter Bunny before him.

"Hey, it's not my fault," he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Don't shoot the messenger, I'm just letting you know. This Coronavirus is shaping up to be some pretty nasty stuff."

"The—what virus?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at Bunny.

"Coronavirus. Covid-19." He said. "You have been keeping up on the news, haven't you?"

Bunnymund, caught with his head in the ground, sputtered. "Look, I am not the shut-in I used t' be, ok!" which was true; the Guardians had made great strides in getting out of their comfort zones in the past eight years. The attack by Pitch made them all realize how isolated they'd become. But… well. Old habits die hard. "So what if I missed a bulletin or two?"

"Bunny," Jack huffed, exasperated. "It's a worldwide pandemic."

Frustrated, Bunny threw his hands in the air. "It's less than a month till Easter! Whaddya want from me!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "A little less denial would be nice."

Fuming, Bunnymund threw his paintbrush to the ground and stormed towards his tunnels.

Sighing, and deciding to take pity on the Pooka, Jack hopped off his staff and followed him across the grassy field. Eggs parted to let him pass. There were dozens of them, hundreds, all waiting to be painted; more were due to hatch from the Eggplants in waves as the month rolled on. The fruits of long labor. Bunny'd put a lot of work into this year's Easter, like he did every year, and it was a shame to see it all go to waste.

Bunny beelined for the European tunnels, ducking into one that Jack knew well. Bunny always seemed to be using this path. It led to a little suburb in England, the very same place where he'd been walked through on that fateful failed Easter years ago. The Pooka never said as much, but Jack suspected; England and Australia seemed to be Bunnymund's Burgess.

So when the lagomorphs hopped down on all fours and darted out of sight, Jack didn't worry. He knew where Bunny was going.

After a few minutes of picking his way through the tunnels, Jack emerged into cool air and cloudy, overcast skies. The tunnel opened up in the narrow space between two long rows of houses, with a park visible down the road. The ground was clear of snow; Jack hadn't been active here lately, but looking at the green grass springing up between the pavestones, he thought he ought to change that soon.

Bunny, to his surprise, was not darting from bush to bush as usual. When Jack arrived, the Pooka was standing smack dab in the middle of the paved streets, subtlety be damned. He turned in circles, a bewildered look creeping onto his face.

Upon spying Jack, he threw his arms out. "Crikey, Jack, it's a ghost town out here! Where is everybody!"

Jack pointed at the long rows of houses. "Inside," he explained. "…Or they better be."

Bunny did another 360, scanning the streets. It was so empty out here, a tumbleweed wouldn't be out of place. "Mate, this—this seems bad," he admitted at last. "I've never seen this place so quiet."

Jack shook his head. "No kidding. You should see the cities."

Bunnymund froze. "The cities?"

"If you think this place is a ghost town, wait till you see London," Jack said. "Paris, Tokyo, Dubai— Venice is so empty the waterways are clear for the first time in ages."

Bunnymund warily scanned the neighborhood again. The lack of people, mid-day, was eerie. He held perfectly still, holding his breath. His ears pricked forward, waiting for sound, eyes on the empty space - as if he expected someone to jump out and yell "boo!" - but nothing came. Slowly, he took a wary step forward, eyes scanning the streets.

Jack stepped forward, reaching out. "…Bunny," he started.

Bunny's whiskers twitched. "So this Coronavirus," he said. "It caused this?"

Jack held up a hand. "They're self-quarantining, for the most part. To help slow the strain on the hospitals. Practically everything is shutting down, everywhere."

"Must be some virus." Bunny replied. "…Takin' out kids and the elderly, I assume?"

"Mostly the elderly. And people with underlying health conditions. It's like the flu on steroids, with a ridiculous incubation period." Jack drew up to his side.

"How many dead?"

Jack winced. "It's… not clear—"

"Give it to me straight."

"…Over four thousand deaths in Italy so far." Jack said, reluctantly. "And more to come. China's not far behind. The US—well." He shrugged. "With the state of healthcare there? Bound to be ten times worse."

It felt different saying it aloud. Four thousand deaths.

A chill ran down his spine.

Jack cast a worried glance at Bunny. He seemed… withdrawn, and Jack hated that. Good news—if he could just think of good news— "Kids though! They seem largely unaffected, thankfully. Gotta catch some breaks, right?"

Bunny looked at least a little relieved at that. Jack went on. "But—the kids're taking it home and giving it to their parents, their grandparents… a lot of places are talking about closing down schools." He slung his staff over his shoulders. "Which, I might add, is totally unfair. I mean, I drop three feet of snow on Burgess and Jamie's highschool might close for, what, a day? Two at most? And then one little pandemic comes along and completely wipes out my record by a mile."

Bunnymund snorted at that. "You're full of yourself."

"I try."

"So," Bunny said. A pause, and his shoulders slumped. "…No Easter this year."

Looking at Bunny's crestfallen face, knots twisted Jack's gut. "Hey, that was the Pope. He cancelled Easter. But I'm sure your status as the Easter Bunny outweighs his authority."

Not even a smile at the comment. "Quarantining means no egg hunts," Bunny said. His ears drooped further. "No egg hunts means no Easter."

Jack took a deep breath and let it out slow. "…Yeah."

They stood silent for a long minute.

"S'not even about the egg hunts, really," Bunnymund said at last. "What worries me is skipping Easter—at a time when the world needs hope the most."

Jack bit his lip. "You could still—I mean, not to bring up North's method, but—pop inside the houses, leave eggs around the house?"

"I already do that, some places," Bunnymund told him. "But if I get the virus on me fur, or me googies, and take 'em inta a clean house—"

Jack sighed. "…Right. Kinda destroys the point of quarantining." He said. Still, he cats about for options, something to lift Bunnymund's spirits. "…Maybe if you disinfect between each place—"

That, oddly, drew a laugh from the Pooka's lips. Bunnymund ruffled Jack's hair, messing it up even worse than it already was. Jack ducked under the noogie, squinting up at Bunny.

"Appreciate it, really," said the Pooka. "But… you're right. Unless somethin' changes, fast, there's - there's just no Easter this year."

Jack straightened, frowning. Giving up wasn't Bunny's MO. He'd thought - he knew the news would hit hard, if he hadn't already caught wind of it, but he thought for sure Bunny would come at this swinging. Maybe try to brainstorm some solutions to the problem, or pull out an unexpected ace hidden up his sleeve.

But just giving up? "Hey now—"

"It's for the best." Bunny cut him off. Apparently it was written all over his face. "In the grand scheme of things - a couple of googies is a small sacrifice to pay fer a safe community."

Jack's frown twisted. Sure but… still.

Bunny gave Jack a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I'm headin' back. Better find somethin' to do with my newfound free time." He added, in a mutter. Turning back to Jack, he asked, "Need a lift anywhere?"

Jack's eyes lingered on Bunny for a long moment. At last, he shook his head.

Bunny's hand dropped from his arm, and it felt like defeat. "Ta, mate," Bunny said, giving a halfhearted salute. In two taps of a paw, a tunnel opened up, and he was gone.

Jack watched him go, wishing, for the life of him, that he could find a way to fix this.

Staring down at the bare earth where the tunnel disappeared, a cold resolve settled in Jack's heart.

He had to find a way to fix this.

—

It was three days and as many consecutive sleepless nights later that Jack came knocking again. The tunnel opened reluctantly, Bunnymund's magic sluggish to match its owners mood, and the rabbit didn't meet him in the field. When Jack arrived, the Pooka was still curled up in his Burrow, slumped at the kitchen chair with a hot tea and sweets littering the table.

"Go 'way," he moaned when Jack's silhouette darkened the doorway. "Let me mourn my holiday in peace." A couple of eggs, unpainted, butted at Bunnymund's heels; the rabbit hadn't had the heart to get rid of them.

Aha, Jack thought, triumphant. Bunny wasn't as satisfied with giving up as he'd pretended to be.

"Pick up your paintbrush and get back to work," Jack told him, eyes gleaming. "Easter's still on."

"Jack," Bunny groaned. "We already talked about this—"

"No egg hunts," Jack flapped a dismissive hand. "We're doing this the old fashioned way."

Bunny sat a bit straighter at that, raising a curious ear. "And what would that be?"

Jack's eyes sparkled, glimmering with hope.

"Baskets," he said, and that was that.

—

Egg hunts hadn't always been the center of the holiday.

In Jack's time, rumor was that if you left a basket - or a hat, upended like a basket - on your doorstep, the Easter Bunny would drop by and fill it to the brim with goodies galore. The practice died out slowly as Bunnymund realized that encouraging folks to go out and seek for the good things in life was a more effective method at garnering Hope; but this year, it was coming back full force.

"Wicker. Ribbons. Paint." Bunnymund dumped another armload of supplies on the grass, and dusted off his paws. "Who's on weaving duty?"

"On it," Jack called, sandwiched between two yetis. He'd all but kidnapped them from North as it became apparent that Bunny's basket production needed to skyrocket, fast. North readily obliged, and even donated some holiday gift baskets he had sitting in the warehouse, unused.

Bunnymund eyed the donated baskets; "…as long as they're not painted red, they'll do."

Over the next few weeks, they emptied Bunny's storage and wove baskets until their fingers fell off. Some were simple affairs, others were elaborate, oversized displays, reserved for houses with large families. In addition to painting eggs, Bunny quickly doubled his output of chocolate, peeps, and hard candies.

Sandy had an eye for basket-arranging, easily assembling multiple at once with the aid of his dreamsand. After Tooth disinfected each finished basket, her Mini fairies carried them off to a cooler and semi-refrigerated room of the Warren that Jack had helped set up. They would remain in isolation until Easter.

They worked at a steady pace, some coming and going, everyone pitching in. When the wicker ran out, Bunny went and found more. North donated plastic baskets as he churned them out. One night, Tooth and Sandy disappeared with a sack of quarters and came back with a truckload of baskets, procured in bulk from closed dollar-tree stores.

"Technically they're paid for!" Tooth insisted when Bunny hemmed and hawed over the gift.

At last, he accepted them. A month was a short time to make millions of baskets, even with everyone helping out. He wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You know," Bunny remarked, a few days before Easter Sunday, as he and Jack wove a handful more baskets to put them over the top. "This just might work."

"Might?" Jack echoed, offended. He flexed his overworked fingers, scowling. "Don't sell this short. Of course it'll work. It's brilliant."

Bunnymund chuckled. "Aye," he said. "But you do realize there's one tiny problem with yer plan?"

Jack paused. "Problem?"

"Quarantine," Bunnymund said. "Most o' these people haven't left their houses in weeks. What makes you think they'll notice the baskets on their doorstep before the eggs start to stink?"

Hm. That was a valid point. Jack set down his half-woven basket and leaned on a hand, thinking.

"We knock," he said at last.

Bunny huffed, amused. "That's your brilliant plan? Knock?" he, too, set his basket down. "Mate, even if it were that simple, I can't. They'd see me."

"Ignoring the fact that being seen isn't as dreadful as you make it out to be," Jack flapped a hand, "I'm not dumb. I wouldn't have you knock." When Bunny cast a confused glance at him, clearly not understanding, Jack said; "I'll have you know I'm a master at ding-dong-ditch."

Bunny studied Jack's face for a long moment, then cracked a smile.

"So you're inviting yourself on my run, huh. You think you can keep up with me?"

Jack laced his fingers and turned his palms outwards, stretching. "I know I can, cottontail. In fact, I'd say I'll knock this one out of the park."

Bunnymund groaned. "No. No puns."

"Hey," Jack laughed. "Hey—knock knock!"

A resigned sigh. "Who's there?"

"Boo," Jack said.

"…Boo who?"

"Why are you crying?" Jack asked. "Easter isn't canceled anymore."

The smile Bunny sent Jack was the most genuine one he'd seen all month.

—

Operation Ring-Every-Doorbell-In-The-World was a go.

"Finished with China," Bunny's voice said through Jack's earbud. "Headin' down to Oz. Catch up, slowpoke!"

"Ohhhh you're dead when I get down there," Jack shot back, flitting from house to house.

So this was a biiit tougher than he thought it'd be. Jack wasn't well-known worldwide yet, so no one had spotted him, and all he had to do was press a button at each station, an easier task than carting whole armfuls of baskets to the surface. He was running into unexpected walls, however, when he realized to truly make this work, he had to ring doorbells in a certain order.

Apartments, Jack decided, were the worst. He had to ring every doorbell in each hall before anyone answered their door; if he didn't, those who'd emerged would realize their neighbors' doorbells were ringing of their own accord. But he couldn't be too quick about it, either, since people exiting their houses en-mass was also, in a way, counterproductive to the quarantine.

But he managed, staying just a step or two behind Bunnymund at all times. Ring and knock; flit to the next target.

Doors opened as he passed, with surprised folks drifting out into the street. He saw dozens of people in pajamas, more who sorely needed haircuts, and a handful who were apparently sitting around their house in Wedding Dresses and Dinosaur Costumes. Quarantine fashion - an interesting trend. The delighted gasps and laughs that echoed in his wake were well enough to spur him on.

They caught their breath over the atlantic ocean, ("Good news! Right now, Greenland's virus-free!") before diving back in to work on the Americas. By the time they hit Alaska, Jack was about ready to drop.

"How do you do this?" Jack wheezed as they drew up to the final house on their stop. Bunnymund was waiting, tweaking the ribbons and eggs that had shifted in transit. "Every year?"

Bunny smirked. "Stamina, mate. It's a marathon, not a race."

"I hate that you're not even winded," Jack groused back.

Satisfied with the presentation, Bunnymund stepped back. "Care to do the honors, mate?" he motioned to the doorbell.

Jack stole an extra minute longer, leaning on his staff for support. Then, with one last deep breath, he raised a hand - no doorbell on this house it seemed - and knocked.

A rustling inside the house. "Mama!" called a young voice inside. "Mama who knocked? Is it the pizza man? Did you order pizza on Easter?!"

Quick as a blink, the two retreated a safe distance back. The front door opened seconds later; a young girl, six years old, stuck her head out.

Her eyes landed on the basket and, all at once, lit up. "Mama!" she screeched in delight. She gathered up the basket—nearly as tall as herself—and waddled back inside, leaving the door hang open. "Mama, he came! You said he wouldn't be here but look, he came!"

"What?" a bewildered voice called from inside the house. Bunnymund and Jack traded a sly look, and a snicker.

The mother stuck her head out of the doorway, glancing this way and that for the culprit. Bunny made sure to flatten his ears and duck down low to avoid detection.

"Huh," said the woman, to herself. "I guess someone in the community is looking out for us after all."

After the door closed, Jack went ahead and dramatically collapsed on the ground before them. "Tell me we're done," he said, though he knew full well they were.

"Righto," Bunny knelt at his side, amusement in his smirk. "Need a lift back t' the Warren?"

"Why would I run to the Warren when I'm perfectly content to die right here?"

Bunnymund chuckled. "Always with the dramas," he said, and scooped Jack up in his arms.

"H-hey!" Jack balked, blushing deeply. "I can walk!"

"Can ye now?"

"Yes!" Jack squirmed out of Bunny's hold and skittered away, then raised his chin defiance. "Though I reserve the right to complain the whole time."

"As ye wish." He tapped twice and summoned a tunnel, motioning Jack in first.

Jack paused at the lip, but just before jumping down, caught Bunnymund staring back at their last house. He turned to look, too, companionable in their silence.

"We did pretty good, huh?" Jack said. "Considering."

Bunny gave a nod. "The world's doing pretty good right now, considering." He remarked. "A couple 'o baskets might not be much, but hopefully, it's something."

"It's the little things," Jack agreed.

"…It really is."

Bunnymund broke his gaze with the house to rest his paw on Jack's shoulder, and this one, in a sharper mirror of the same gesture a month prior, felt like sun on the skin. Bunny smiled at Jack, shining with soft gratitude.

"Thanks fer bein' here, Jack," he said. "Couldn't've done it without ya."

Jack smiled back. "Happy Easter."

Bunny nodded at the tunnel. "Now c'mon," he said, tossing something to Jack which the winter spirit just barely caught; "We've got a disinfecting bath and a nap waitin' fer us in the Warren."

Jack paused, unfolding his hands to inspect what he'd caught: an Easter Egg, painted a vivid blue, speckled with snowflakes and a golden scrawl that read Thank You.

Jack beamed at the egg, holding it gently in his hands, then turned the smile up at Bunny.

Bunny's own grin turned wicked. "—Race ya," he said, diving into the tunnel.

"What!" Jack stiffened, sore muscles seizing. Any protest he might utter fell away at the sound of Bunnymund's bright, ringing laughter.

Pocketing the egg, Jack dove in after him, his center bursting with joy and hope.

#ROTG #Rise of the Guardians #ROTG Hope Week #Hope Week #Jackrabbit #Jackrabbit Week #sorry for the length #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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candythemew · 4 years

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UrSan Headcanons!🌊

The UrMaid of Thra...

It’s probably no surprise that UrSan The Swimmer is my favorite Dark Crystak character considering how much I draw her, but I feel like many of you would like to hear my headcanons for this beautiful lass!

UrSan is a Nomadic UrRu. Constantly swimming through the various waterways and seas of Thra. Like Urgoh and UrVa, she seeks out her own path. Prefering not to stay in place for too long. Like her counterpart, she yearns to have her own independence and sense of purpose.

UrSan is Loving and kind, but not Naïve. She knows life can be cruel, but she tries to keep her spirits up. She shows compassion to others, because she knows firsthand how hard it can be when you feel isolated, alone, or nobody cares. She had been scared half to death once when someone very close to her nearly perished due to their grief.

UrSan’s voyages across the rivers, seas, swamps, and lakes of Thra have inspired many folktales and legends among the Gelfling. The Majority of them coming from the Drenchen and the Sifa. These tales can arrange from terrifying bog monsters with bright glowing eyes... Made up entirely of tangling limbs, reeds, and mud. Shambling about to take away any naughty children who may have wandered too deep into the swamps, To beautiful women who lure young Gelfing into the dark depths, or even pure-hearted sea spirits that will lead you back to shore with their songs when you’re lost at sea…

UrSan’s singing sounds like that of a whale or siren. Many Sifan folktales have their roots in hearing this elusive tune underneath their ships. Echoing beneath them with a resonating lullaby that can be heard for miles.

Ursan wears little to no clothing as to prevent drag in the water as she swims. Her long hair serves to cover up most of her body whenever she leaves the water. (Which isn’t often.) But if she must be out of the water for an extended period of time; she has a lightweight dress she wears. She’ll usually keep these dresses in hollow tree trunks along the banks of rivers where she’s known to stop and rest. She finds clothes kinda itchy and weird.

Due to all of her underwater travel, UrSan occasionally gets things stuck in her hair. Mostly Seaweed, but sometimes small animals, or sometimes even Gelfling can get trapped in her deep indigo locks! Although for that to happen is extremely rare and scary! She often lets plants that get tangled within her mane stay. Using them as a form of decoration. ((And sometimes a food source.)) Although most of the time, this is actually due to her forgetting to remove the flora in the first place! When dry, UrSan’s hair is wavy. She also has little tufts of hair that stick out of place.

UrSan Swims by using her powerful tail to propel her forward in the water. keeping her arms and legs pressed against her body. She’ll use her arms to cling onto rocks in particularly strong currents, or to assist in turning another direction.

UrSan has hidden grottoes and hideaways she stays in if she needs to rest or recover from an injury she may have gotten from her travels. Most often when noticing that her counterpart got into a particularly nasty fight. She calls these places “Sanctuaries”. These areas are scattered across the world of Thra, and are very hard to come by if you aren’t The Swimmer. UrSan knows these places by heart, and a few of them are connected by underwater tunnels. Any adventurer to stumble upon one of these sanctuaries is a lucky one indeed! As these places are full of necessities for survival, as well as rare and exotic items The Swimmer finds on her travels. She keeps these behind as mementos of previous journeys. If you’re particularly lucky, you may even stumble upon her during a period of rest. A sight very few ever see, but will always remember. As well as Sanctuaries, She also has a network of underground channels she’ll use for fast travel. Although these are more risky due to the darkness, sharp rocks, and strong currents. Here are some visuals of what I have in mind for these Sanctuaries:

(Below) An underground channel located in the claw mountains.

UrSan makes a pilgrimage back to The Valley of the Mystics once every few Trine.

On this voyage back home, she’ll bring back various things from her travels to give to her fellow UrRu. It’s not about the quantity, but the quality. Since she can’t carry too much while swimming miles upon miles back home; she’ll put a lot of thought into it. These items will often have a special meaning on how she feels about a certain individual. As well as a use. Many of these objects are not accessible in The Valley making them a heartfelt gift indeed. She keeps them in a small bag made out of fishing nets, or tied up in her hair.

She’ll stay in the valley for about a week or two before leaving. During this time, She’ll catch up with her brothers. Helping out, speaking of her travels and answering numerous questions. She will also allow her hair to be brushed, dried and braided. Decorating it with seashells that she will leave behind in The Valley from her numerous pilgrimages. As well as wearing clothing. Elaborate ones at that. (Or at least for a Mystic...) Her Robes are made from Sifan silk she found in a shipwreck that she gifted to UrUtt the Weaver, who in return created this masterful work of art. ((Clothing HC Based off of this description of her outfit!))

The two are good friends. Even though UrUtt is put off by her decision to remain nude outside of the Valley. UrSan however, is blissfully unaware of how others could find her choices inappropriate. Being completely innocent about this aspect of life.

Speaking of Relationships, Two of her closest friends are UrTih the Alchemist and UrZah the Ritual Guardian. UrTih the Alchemist is very close to UrSan. With the two of them interacting like a Big Sister and Little Brother of sorts, despite them being the same age. UrSan will spend a good part of her time back home experimenting and helping The Alchemist out with all sorts of things! Be it finding the materials he may need for potions, or asking him thousands of questions on whatever he may be working on! She also helps The Alchemist get out of his shell, as he sometimes feels anxious to speak or share his ideas with his fellow UrRu. UrTih is fond of UrSan as well. And is one of the first people to greet her upon her return. He enjoys the stories and excitement she brings to the monotony of Valley life. Even if she can get to be a too much at times. UrSan gets very excited whenever she’s around UrTih. He always has something new to say, and she admires his Creativity. She brings out a brave side of him, and he offers her kinship and a feeling of family. All and all their bond is inseparable! I heard that with the collaboration with another UrRu, UrTih is crafting a strange vessel known as a “Canoe”... UrZah the Ritual Guardian is one of UrSan’s oldest, and closest friends. Their relationship started when his facial disfigurement caused him to spiral into a depressive state where all he would do was pray, do his rituals, and go to sleep. He wouldn’t eat and barely ever drank. As he felt unworthy of it. Like he was being punished by the gods for his transgressions. He was guilty of so much; breathing and speaking hurt so bad... It had to be a punishment. Especially considering the wicked acts of his “Other Half”. UrZah was just as responsible of those atrocities as he. They are two sides of the same coin. This period happened during a time frame where UrSan’s travels were very brief. Still being titled “The Swimmer” however she was not nearly as nomadic as she is today. Only really acting as a scout as she swam around the streams in the wilderness they had camped for the night. As they were still looking for their own home. She would make sure check up on everyone at night as she held her vigil. One particularly cold night, She heard UrZah’s harsh wheezing in the distance. It sounded much more labored... So she followed the noise and saw him collapsed on the ground surrounded by various types of sands, prayer objects, and half finished symbols. Twisting about in mesmerizing patterns all across the ground. Mortified, she immediately rushed for help. A few nights later the golden haired mystic awoke to see The Swimmer, UrIm the Healer, and UrSu the Master all watching over him. She had learned that she had saved his life; but he didn’t know why or how. He was scolded harshly by the three, but UrSan stayed with him for the night as she was worried for him. She would spend the next couple unum trying to lift his spirits, giving him little reasons to go on, and making sure he was eating and drinking at least something small everyday. It took a long, long time but he got better due to her and his fellow Mystics. And for that he’s eternally grateful. When he asks her about what happened the night she found him, she only stares off into the distance. Silent. Not saying a word. But perhaps... that’s for the best. As the trine passed the two grew closer despite their long distance apart due to UrSan’s travels. Becoming better friends despite their vastly different personalities and opposing worldviews. UrSan believing in being independent and doing all that they could to make up for their past transgressions, while UrZah believes the opposite. Following the Master’s orders of staying hidden, remaining vigilant, and being patient. Praying for safety until the next great conjunction. They work together like Caramel and Sour Apples! Better with each other than without. UrZah is a stable mystic who can help keep UrSan grounded in reality. Reminding her that there is a way to things. And UrSan is someone who can help him get out of his overly strict attitude and lift him out of his all or nothing mentality. The weight of the world is not on his shoulders. And She’ll always make sure to remind him of that. Other Wandering Mystics: She has many experiences of running into UrVa the Archer, UrMa the Peacemaker, and in her younger days; UrGoh the Wanderer.

When finding one of her Dear, Fellow Travelers. She will often speak to them. Asking where they might be headed and what their plans are. Sometimes they’ll even camp together. Telling each other of their travels. Each Interaction is different depending on who she meets, but meeting another vagabond is always a fun surprise! UrMa the Peacemaker is by far the most social. As he travels the lands looking for peaceful solutions to conflicts. When the two meet they’ll be sure to play around a bit before catching up. This usually entails UrMa racing her on the riverbank as she swims by the water’s edge. Or UrSan slowly emerging out of the water creeping from behind to startle the big strong UrRu! They’ll definitely set camp together and talk until dawn. Most stories shared between the two are those of unique individuals they met. The Peacemaker telling UrSan of some of the most foolish reasons conflicts had arisen and the weirdest ways those problems were solved! In the morning UrMa will usually invite her to follow him wherever he may be headed next and as long there’s a river alongside him to follow his path, The Swimmer will accept! UrVa the Archer is someone UrSan also likes to catch up with when she can. She’ll find him most often drinking from a stream or resting in one of her secret sanctuaries. Their talks usually consist of philosophy with a bit of witty remarks and jokes sprinkled in-between. The two will also practice their physical abilities by sparring. As they are the two most active and strong UrRu. When they camp together they’ll catch fish to make into kebabs. (UrSan is extremely fond of this part) UrVa will wait patiently as he stays still and catches them with his hands in the shallows. Using his strong reflexes and knowledge of the Mystic’s rarely used martial arts. UrSan however will chase the fish around the open water like a dolphin until she catches up to one and grabs it either in her mouth or powerful arms. Sometimes quickly jumping out of the water as she chases them! Each take only what they need for the night and make sure not to waste a single bit of what was given. All life is a gift from Thra. And as they are not of Thra, they can’t take recklessly. The two will cook together, and speak of their journeys and various tales they had heard or have made up themselves. The two will sleep at their camp together, and then part ways in the morning. Wishing the best for each other on their travels. UrGoh the Wanderer is a name UrSan hasen’t heard of in hundreds of trine. She hasn’t seen him since she was young. Telling her of a vision he was given to embrace unity with their counterparts. As well as the others shunning him from the Valley due to him trying to convince the rest. But sadly, they were all too stubborn. UrSan didn’t know what to make of this. It was a very complex and ambitious task to set fourth to acomplish. She did not follow him. But she gave him a spiral shell as a memento to be safe and to keep going forward. There wasn’t much she could do, because to be honest... She was scared. There are some nights where she wonders if she should have done more, should she embrace her own half as well? And how is The Wanderer nowadays? Safe she hopes. These thoughts sometimes keep her up at night.

Scars: [MAJOR SPOILER WARNING FOR THE TIDES AND FLAMES OF THRA UNDER THE CUT] Non-Spoiler HC: She has some minor scarring from SkekSa due to the Skeksis being a swashbuckling adventurer. Of course she’s gonna get nicked from time to time. UrSan has gotten used to these. She also has piercing holes along the sides of her snout, but she doesn’t choose to wear any piercings to go with them.

When Skeksa gets her hand cut off by Tae, as we know, the same happens to UrSan. Her hand being cut clean off. Thankfully Urru have four hands in all, but this wound took a lot out of UrSan and makes turning while swimming harder. As well as gripping to rocks in areas with stronger currents. Saltwater can sometimes enter the wound. Causing a stinging sensation. She also has a bad stab wound in her abdomen and shoulder. As well as burn scars across her body. Her Fight with SkekSa also gave the two of them some deep scars.

Although her Counterpart was imprisoned inside an enchanted apeknot tree, UrSan survived into the Garthim wars. During this time she would save and hide away as many Gelfling as she could even though all seemed hopeless. She died of unknown causes during this era. Let’s just hope her efforts weren’t in vain.

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tazzytypes · 4 years

Text

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 6

Thank you guys for your continued support! Your comments really encourage me to keep writing through any personal doubts I may have in my own writing.

Read on AO3 or see Masterpost for more chapters!

Em and Timothy stood in the hall, Grey’s bustling around them, the occasional Purple or Warden passing them by with a sideways glance. It had been two days and Emily still hadn’t spoken a word to Em, making her feel isolated from the pair. She didn’t want to admit the truth in Langdon’s statement — she’d find a way to reconcile with the other girl even if it was out of spite.

“She’s coming around,” Timothy assured her, “you could always talk to her, you know?”

“She likes you more,” Em said, Timothy shaking his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You two are not great at admitting our mistakes, are you?”

“I stand by my words,” Em informed him, “and I won’t apologize unless it is sincere.”

Timothy sighed, understanding her reasoning but none the less finding the situation stressful. Emily had given him the same response only hours earlier. The two were remarkably similar, only diverging in small, almost microscopic chinks of their moral alignment.

“Perhaps if I could better explain—”

“My mom always said the best thing to fix an argument was space,” he sighed, knowing how that conversation would end, “just… be patient.”

“Hard to be patient when she misses game night,” Em jested, a small smile forming, “I had to team up with Coco.”

Timothy laughed, “the world appreciates your sacrifice.”

“Timothy!” A voice called out, the pair looking down the hall behind said boy. Em peaked her head out from behind his shoulder to see Emily standing there. Emily’s face fell and her posture became stiff, lips pressing into a thin line.

“It’ll all work out,” Timothy assured one last time before walking towards his girlfriend, hand going out to take hers when he got close enough. Emily spared Em a glance before turning to walk the opposite direction, pulling Timothy close to whisper something.

Em wasn’t good at apologies. She knew that. Her mother used to drag her in front of someone she offended and force her to say the words even if she didn’t mean them. Insincerity was a trait the older woman had refined… a tone of voice Em knew all too well.

So she turned on her heels and walked in the opposite direction, wondering if she was being sincere in her lack of action or simply being too proud. Her feet led her to the salon, not in the mood for Langdon to appear over her shoulder once more and bring up unpleasant emotions. The brunette wouldn’t even be able to focus on reading, anyways.

The salon was surprisingly empty and quiet. A Grey bustled around dusting and cleaning as a familiar tuft of white hair sat on the sofa.

“Where is everyone?” she asked rounding the sofa.

“Hell if I know,” Gallant sighed as she sat down beside him, “this place is a fucking maze.”

“Evie in an interview?”

He chuckled and smirked, “and I finally have some peace and quiet.”

“Where’s Coco?”

“She’s in one of her moods,” Gallant said, whatever satisfaction he had left him, smile fading into a frown, “God forbid I want to talk about something other than her.”

“As a hairstylist, I thought you’d be used to it.”

“It’s not like I worked the salon 24/7.”

Em reached for a glass of water, “fair.”

There was a moment of silence… peace. Naturally, Gallant couldn’t let it last for very long.

“So what’s your deal?” He asked as she leaned back in her seat.

“I’ve made many deals in my life, some savory some unsavory,” She said, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Well duh,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I meant personally. You’ve got this whole… mysterious thing that’s great, don’t get me wrong, but also there are like… four men left in the world and three are gay so you’re going to have to change your brand.”

“Well, I’m bi so that solves that.” Em said before muttering into her glass, “bold of you to assume I’m straight.”

Gallant rolled his eyes, “Everyone’s bi in the right situation.”

Em’s lips pressed into a thin line. She had met people like Gallant, people who said the exact same thing — toxic.

“Well I’m also ace so…” she says.

“So you’re either a prude or someone did ya’ dirty.”

“Or I just don’t like sex.”

“How can you not like sex?”

“I don’t know…” Em trailed, trying to press a point, “How can you?”

“How can you not?”

Em’s nerves were already wearing thin.

“Well, we all know where it got Stu.” She snapped. They all knew Venable was homophobic. Singling out the gay men? She didn’t even try to hide it.

“You really don’t pull the punches, do you?”

“It’s the apocalypse,” she said frowning into her drink, “If I held back I’d be dead.”

Gallant silently toasted her mentality, but the look on his face displayed a sort of… judgment. She knew the look all too well. It asked — “Are you really part of the LGBT community or do you just want to feel special?”

“Let me put it this way,” She said, putting her drink down and turning to the man, “Do you like Brussels sprouts?”

He looked at her like she had grown a new head, “no.”

“How can you not? I mean you must not have had the good ones…. Maybe it wasn’t seasoned right. No one just doesn’t like Brussels sprouts.”

“Alright, alright,” Gallant conceded, raising his hands in defeat, “I get your point.”

“I get it,” Em admitted after a moment of silence, “I can pass as hetero-normative if I need to and I have due to being in the closet. But both sides of the table always told me I was just seeking attention or going through a phase.”

“This conversation got way deeper than I was planning on it to be,” Gallant noted, eying his drink before mirroring Em and putting it on the table.

“Yeah,” Em admitted with a chuckle, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling, “Some things just didn’t die with the apocalypse, huh?”

“New world,” He said, glancing at Em as he mirrored her actions, “same bullshit.”

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

At some point, Em wandered back towards the library. It was a siren’s song she could not fight against. Also, one could only bare Gallant’s companionship for so long. The man had a way to take his good moments and completely ruin them. He had tried to ask her about multiple highly-sexual definitions as a sort of test of her sexuality or somehow prove it was real to begin with.

To quell her irritation, she focused on what she was going to do once she got to the library. There was a first edition Hawthorne she had her eye on, but the ever-looming threat of death made her wish for more science books. Hell, she’d take her old high-school textbooks over Hawthorne any day if it gave her the information she needed.

With a sigh, she took out her notebook and scribbled down yet another unanswered question to research into. It only grew longer as the days passed with no end or hope of answers in sight. The only way to survive was to wander out into the radiation, but she’d rather die at the hands of cannibals than fall victim to cancer and tumors. Perhaps if they focused on finding canned preserves the risk would be lower? It was more hopeful thinking than anything else.

Nose in a book, she barely even noticed the figure rounding the corner until her shoulder clashed with theirs. Pencil clattering to the floor, a hand beat hers to the mark and she pulled back as she kneeled on the floor.

Emily was before her, mouth twisting as she handed the pencil back and searched for the words to say. Em was the first to stand back up, Emily patting at her skirt to buy more time.

“Hey,” Em spoke, breaking the silence.

“Hey.”

“So…” Em bit her lip, looking to the floor to the ceiling and anywhere that wasn’t Emily before sighing and looking at the girl, “I’m sorry. I got so... consumed by surviving I talked to you like you were stupid instead of listening to your concerns.”

“As am I,” Emily echoed, shoulders losing their tension, “I pretty much called you a heartless bitch.”

Em chuckled, “we both got heated. It’s not like your mindset wasn’t warranted.”

With a half-hearted smile, Emily gestured to the library door, Em holding it open for her before following after. As always, everything was right where they left it. Books left to the side stayed exactly in the order she had arranged, bookmarks in the right places. It was the one corner of the world the chaos didn’t touch... or at least where she could begin to understand it.

They fell into place at a table, Em sitting in a seat and Emily sitting on the table itself. She looked around the room, obviously not having been in there since Em and herself fought.

“You know,” Emily began, “before all this I was protesting a coffee shop for exploiting child labor.”

“Now those kids have more to worry about than poverty,” Em finished the thought, “and they didn’t have the luxury of a decent childhood.”

Emily thinks about it and shakes her head, “I was always told I was getting angry for no reason, taking things too far.”

She looked to Em, “I’m tired of not being able to do anything and then it being too late.”

Em broke from her gaze, trying to turn the chaotic disorder of her thoughts into words, “I wish I could jump into the deep end like you, but I just… I just can’t be a hero. It goes against everything ingrained in me.”

Emily smiled sadly at the girl, squeezing her hand. She always seemed to understand without asking. Em thought it was like her superpower or something.

“Let’s collect info,” Emily reassured, “and when you feel like it’s time… we’ll strike.”

“When we think it’s time,” Em insisted, “ya’ll’s asses are on the line too.”

Emily smiled and shook her head, “we’ll take a vote. Do it like a jury or something.”

“Viva la revolution.”

They talked for a while, Em updating her on post-interview plans. They needed to find a way to conquer the radiation. There had to be more than one organization of doomsday preppers in the LA area.

“What about the cannibals?” Emily asked, “we don’t even know what or even if there’s an armory in this place.”

“That’s why I was thinking of sneaking into—”

They were interrupted by the screeching of un-oiled door hinges, both girls quickly turning towards the sound. Bookshelves blocked their view, but the telltale sound of steel-toed boots against carpet was unmistakable to Em. Emily looked to her friend as she stood, walking towards the sound.

“Erika?”

The Fist appeared from one of the aisles, smiling at the girl as Emily looked between the two. Em fell back to sit next to Emily, giving her a reassuring smile as she closed the notebook they had been looking at.

“You have a good ear,” The Fist said, turning to nod a greeting to Emily.

“Emily,” Em introduced, “Erika.”

“A pleasure,” The Fist said, Emily offering a still anxious smile before addressing business, “Mr. Langdon wishes to speak to you.”

“Me?” Emily asked, hand on her chest as she looked between the two.

“No,” The Fist replied turning to the third woman in the room.

Em’s brows knitted in confusion. “But some of the residents haven’t even had their first—”

“It’s okay,” Emily tried to reassure, nodding for Em to go ahead, “we’ll talk more about books later.”

Em gave a nod of confirmation before turning to The Fist, “lead the way.”

Once the woman’s back was turned Em sent a frantic glance to Emily. Had someone overheard their conversations? Venable killed people for just having sex. God knows what she’d do if she unearthed conspiracy.

“I’ll be with Timothy when you’re done.”

The hallways suddenly felt more foreboding, her paranoia making every shadow into an enemy. Would she be able to fight her way out of there? No… not alone, at the very least. They had guns… she didn’t. She knew how to disarm them. Bullets only went in one direction, after all. Then again, things like that were easier said than done. It was incredible what people were capable of when they were put between a rock and a hard place.

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

Langdon didn’t look up at her as she entered, gesturing to the chair she had sat in before as he shuffled through papers.

“Miss Mead tells me you’re instrumental in keeping morale up among the residents.”

Em paused at the arm of the empty chair, hand resting on the back, “Do you ever start with a hello?”

Blue eyes finally lifted from papers, a smile crawling onto his face as he put his pen down. His hands sat on either side of his work as he stared at her with what seemed like amusement in his eyes. “Do you ever directly answer questions?”

“Sometimes.”

A smirk of her own crawled to her lips as she settled into her chair, “I simply make suggestions on how to pass the time. What they do with that is up to them.”

“You sell yourself short,” Langdon noted, examining her reactions, “there must be something that drives your mediation between residents.”

“Boredom?”

“Actions cause reactions. There has to be something you wish to gain.”

Langdon leaned forward and Em’s skin prickled with anxiety. He didn’t know anything. He was fishing. He couldn’t prove anything. “Tell me… what do you desire?”

She had expected accusations, the lack of which made her at a loss for words. Langdon watched her think for a long moment. Her eyes trained on the floor, looking beyond it at something he couldn’t see. She shook her head, defeated.

“Honestly,” she admitted, “I don’t know.”

“Everyone desires something,” he pressed, “luxury, prestige, sex... Ah, well. The latter not so much in your case.”

Em either didn’t notice the faux pas or simply didn’t comment on it. Langdon knew it was low-hanging fruit, anyways.

“Material objects bring such fleeting enjoyment,” she sighed, “and then you’re bored again looking for something to fill the hole.”

She paused, genuinely unable to think of anything.

“I guess I’d like to live comfortably,” she admitted, “… not worry over rent or if I can buy food… but being here has negated the need for that.”

“Then let’s speak immaterial,” Langdon proposed.

That. That she did have an answer for, “motivation… happiness.”

Her interrogator was less than impressed, scoffing at her response, “sounds like something from an Instagram thirst ad.”

Em laughed, amused as she realized the truth in his words and how she must sound saying them aloud. Langdon was once again perplexed by her reaction. He had been expecting something much more defensive.

“But it’s true,” she assured, looking down at her skirt and fixating on a piece of fuzz that had settled on the purple fabric, “I want to have motivation to work on the things I love. I want those fleeting moments of happiness to last longer… but these days they only last a heartbeat before they’re gone.”

He continued to stare at her. She was an oddity among this lot, genuine in a way none of them could ever hope to be. Langdon could see the desire in her eyes and the sadness that came with knowing it was something that could never be given to her. It wasn’t fame or fortune… those desires were always so much easier.

“A material object gives focus to desire,” she finally finished, finally gathering the confidence to look back into his eyes once more, “but it is fleeting. I know that all too well.”

For once Langdon was the one who was at a loss for words. The two could simply look at one another for a long moment until Em broke the silence.

“May I ask you a question?”

He waved his hand for her to continue, “Why am I receiving a second interview before some residents have received their first?”

“Maybe I think you have potential.”

Em’s face twisted into a wry smile, “or you want me to think I do.”

She did have a way of making him laugh.

“You’re quite the character,” he admitted, leaning back as he chuckled, “it makes me wonder exactly what would happen if you let go.”

“Let go?”

“Of that anger boiling inside of you.”

There it was. The dropping of the pin. Langdon liked to get you comfortable before he shoved in the knife.

Once again, Em felt the need to edge around the statement. A sinner in church felt themselves being watched by a thousand eyes when the reality was not a single one was focused upon them. No. She’d watch her words until he accused her of conspiracy. She’d play it safe.

Langdon watched her become guarded. Hands once placed on either arm of the chair became centered on her lap, fingers twisted together. Green eyes dilated and he could see a muscle tense around her jaw.

“Momentary catharsis isn’t worth the consequences,” she noted.

“There are no laws anymore,” he noted, rounding the desk, “no rules. Chaos has won.”

Em shook her head, “don’t tempt me.”

If she hadn’t of known better she’d of said he looked… enthralled. There was an eagerness to his gaze. Langdon felt his heart leap in his chest. It was as if he was witnessing a phoenix rise from the ashes.

“You’re picturing it now, aren’t you?” he asked, “taking back the power Venable holds, leading a revolt to—”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Em noted, pulling back and leaning back into the chair in preparation to rise from it, “until the cards are in my favor I won’t move.”

His tone scared her as he continued to press and press a button she had been trying to ignore. It was like staring at a snake alone in the middle of the desert, unsure if its bite will simply hurt or turn your insides to mush. Either way, it was just the two of you. Even if you managed to wrangle it off you and cut off its head there was a chance you wouldn’t survive.

“Hold the cards too close to your chest and they will be wasted.”

He only moved slightly towards her and she jumped to her feet as if his mere presence was a blazing inferno. The buzzing feeling began again, spreading from her chest to her head and all the way out to her limbs.

“I think we’re done here,” Em said, words rushing from her mouth before they could catch in her chest. She took a step back. His hands moved quickly, but his touch was light as he grabbed her arm. He pulled her towards him, just as gentle.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, voice almost soft as blue eyes searched into her green ones, “I’m on your side.”

She yanked her arm from his grasp. Em did not care for cages, gilded or covered with rust. Langdon’s eyes looked hurt as she pulled away, gaze going desperately between her face and her arm as if trying to understand why she pulled away.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” She snapped before leaving the room as quickly as her feet would carry her. Langdon simply stood still and let her go, hand slowly falling to his side.

In her desperation to flee, Em’s surroundings seemed to blur around her. She had tunnel-vision and all that mattered was getting as far away from Langdon as possible. What he made her feel… there were no words for it. She was terrified and excited all at once. It was like being on a roller-coaster, the adrenaline rush making you run into danger again and again. No. She wouldn’t run into the fire. She wouldn’t play hero.

“Woah!” a voice exclaimed, “slow down.”

Timothy stood in front of her, hands on either shoulder as he bent down to look her in her eyes. They were frantic, dilated, and unable to focus on anything.

“What happened?”

Movement over her shoulder caught his eye from somewhere down the hall. Langdon stood there, hands coming to rest behind his back as he eyed the pair. A noticeable frown was on the blond’s lips, eyes narrowing on Timothy’s hands on the woman’s shoulders. Timothy felt like he had interrupted something… probably for the better. He honestly couldn’t tell.

Finally noticing Timothy’s gaze, Em glanced over her shoulder to find nothing but a dark hall. She quickly righted herself, calming her breathing and nerves.

“Where’s Emily?” she asked, voice almost robotically even.

“In her room…” Timothy said, pulling his eyes from the dark hall, “why?”

Em shook her head, “You were right… something is wrong with Langdon... wrong with this entire fucking outpost. We need a plan sooner rather than later.”

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

Hours later, Em couldn’t place why she had been so scared. When she looked at his face she just felt pain striking right at her chest and there was only a moment before the venom destroyed her from the inside out.

Timothy and Emily had noted her distress, promising to brainstorm ideas and meet up later once things settled down. While Em had been the first to propose that they keep their ear to the pavement, the patience to do so was quickly thinning.

There was something in Langdon’s eye… like he could see everything she had ever done or ever will do. It was like he knew exactly what they were doing.

Em paced her room, trying to keep her mind on the tangible instead of giving in to fear. A plan… she needed to figure out a plan. The Warden’s, Grey’s, and Venable were her best bet at getting a base-level understanding of how the outpost was run. She had tried talking to the Grey’s, but they either knew

Things just didn’t add up. Most of the residents, no matter their station, seemed in the dark about The Cooperative’s movements. Venable even seemed perplexed. There could be information in the woman’s room, but doing so would lead them to a quick death.

Their best bet would be to gather information from the Greys, scattered and benign as it may be. Emily was probably talking to them now as Em paced and paced. Going as a group would make them larger targets and more suspicious, but it was maddening to just sit and wait.

A knock on the door pulled her from her reverie. Em raced to hide her notes in her desk. Putting them all back in order was taking more time than she expected. Another knock came, harder and more urgent.

“Just a second!” Em sang, deciding to just shove all the papers in the desk and organize them later. Smoothing down her hair and straightening her skirt, Em stalked to the door and opened it.

There was momentary relief when she saw Coco, quickly replaced with dread when she realized exactly who was standing outside her door.

“Yes?” Em asked, leaning forward as she had one hand on the door and another on the frame. Coco had a sickly sweet smile on her face which could only mean one thing.

“I need your help.”

At least this time she hadn’t beat around the bush and wasted Em’s time with an hour conversation about doing makeup in horrible lighting. She stared at Em, an awkward silence falling between the pair.

“With?” Em finally asked.

Coco gave her a look, “my dress! Duh.”

Em’s eyes scanned over Coco’s dress, confusion marring her features as she looked back at the woman’s face, “what about it?”

“Not this one!” Coco exclaimed, rolling her eyes, “the purple one… well… the purpler one. I asked Mallory and she had no idea what to do but I saw you out here once with —”

“Coco,” Em said, voice like a teacher trying to get a rowdy student to sit in their seat, “what do you want?”

“Can you mend my dress?” Coco grabbed on to one of Em’s hands as she begged, “There’s a giant hole in my armpit and my interview with Langdon is in an hour. I swear I’ll put in a good word with him for you!”

Em pried her hand away from the woman and resisted the urge to groan. Taking a deep breath she weighed her choices. Finally, she let out a sigh, resigning herself to her fate and trying to be as nice as possible.

“I guess I have nothing better to do.”

A grin spread across Coco’s face and she took her hand once more, hardly giving Em a chance to lock her door before dragging her along. Coco was only nice when she wanted something. Em logically knew that. Yet, somehow, the girl reminded her of an old friend, rambling about this, that, and everything as she tugged her along to god knows where. If she stared at the back of Coco’s head for a moment she could pretend the blonde hair belonged to someone else.

Em quickly threw the trail of thought away. Last thing she needed was Coco spreading a story about how she cried over the woman’s pathetic attempts at being a decent human being.

Coco threw open the door to her room and quickly shoved the garment into Em’s hand, shattering whatever illusion of kindness she had briefly created. “Here!”

“What side?” Em sighed, turning the garment around in her hands.

The blonde looked up as she thought, raising one arm, then the other as if recalling the exact moment it ripped.

“Never mind,” Em droned, “I found it.”

The hole was quite large, probably due to its poor fitting. It wasn’t as if they had someone take their measurements before they arrived at the outpost. It reached from the armpit to halfway between the sleeve and the waistline. Coco had gotten lucky, the tear following the natural stitching of the garment.

“Do you have a needle and thread?” Em asked, Coco hovering over her shoulder as she examined the damage.

“Do I look like I mend my own clothes?”

The brunette sighed once more, “get a Grey to bring me something, then.”

“Don’t you have your own tools or something?” Coco scoffed.

Em rose her eyes to look at the spoiled brat.

“When’s your interview?”

Coco huffed and went out into the hall, leaving the door open so the other woman would be sure to hear her stomping. For a moment there was glorious silence, Em examining the inside of the dress to figure out how to sew it up. After a few moments, a figure caught her eye and she looked up at the doorway.

Gallant stood, leaning against the frame with a box in one hand.

“What’s she having you do for her?” he asked.

“Mending clothes,” Em sighed, holding up the dress, “you here for her hair?”

“Yup,” Gallant said with a pop, moving to set up in the room, “Don’t know how many more miracles I can pull in that department.”

“A comment on your lack of supplies or an insult to Coco?”

The man paused, turning back towards her as he eyes the ceiling in thought, “Both?”

They could hear Coco’s stomping before they could see her, the woman appearing in the doorway with a scowl.

“Here’s your supplies,” she snapped before turning to Gallant. She mouthed something Em couldn’t hear, but Gallant’s silent response was comically easy to read as he mouthed the words “I know.”

Wearing a plastic smile she had learned from customer service, Em took the needle and thread from Coco’s hand and pulled out what she needed from the spool.

“Did you get scissors?” Em asked as she looked around.

“No.”

Regretting her decision to help, the brunette turned to Gallant.

“Uh-uh,” He said, shaking a finger in front of him, “no way.”

“Just do it!” Coco snapped, falling back into a seat before her vanity.

With the grace of a sulking toddler, Gallant made his way towards Em, reluctantly cutting the thread. His frown persisted as he went back to deal with Coco’s hair.

“You owe me,” He grumbled. Em couldn’t tell if the statement was directed at herself or Coco.

“Did they ever figure out what caused that power out earlier?” Coco asked Gallant, the two quickly creating their own little bubble of which Em was not a part of. Not that she cared.

“Probably just some minor glitch,” Gallant dismissed, obviously not losing sleep over the issue.

“That’s hardly reassuring. My father paid millions to get us in here. You’d think they’d at least be able to keep it running smoothly.”

Gallant rose his hands, giving Coco a look in the mirror, “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Coco didn’t even hear him, going on some random tirade Em quickly tuned out. What she wouldn’t do for a pair of noise-proof headphones.

Both Gallant and Em went into a trace as they worked. Em remembered when she was little and wanted to be a fashion designer, herself and another friend spending their elementary school lunchtime drawing out designs. Her grandmother had been more than happy to teach Em how to use her old and outdated sowing machine. Childlike enthusiasm led to it breaking. In the end, her grandmother was only able to teach her a few things before she passed… most of them with a needle, thread, and her own hands.

“Are you almost finished?” Coco demanded, pulling Em out of her train of thought as she paced the room like an angry chicken. Gallant followed after her, trying to keep his masterpiece in place. “He can’t finish until you’re finished.”

Em paid her no mind, turning back to her work and maintaining her steady pace, “do you want this to look like it was patched together by a drunken child?”

Coco huffed and stalked back to her seat, much to the relief of Gallant.

“I have twenty minutes…” she continued to complain.

“And the walk down the hallway takes five.” Em reminded.

Gallant was content to wait. He’d worked on models before back when he was first making his break and he was well used to clothing mishaps. Coco, on the other hand, glared daggers at Em as she worked. If she was being honest, Em quite enjoyed annoying the woman. It was comically easy to test just how spoiled she truly was.

Fifteen minutes passed and Em finally finished the last stitch, knotting the end a few times to keep it in place.

“Finally!” Coco exclaimed, not waiting for the pair to leave before changing. It wasn’t as if there was much to expose. Victorian undergarments were infinitely more modest than modern swimsuits. As soon as the dress was over her head, Gallant did a few last adjustments to her hair.

“Fini?” Coco asked, staring at the man as he focused on one stray strand. One would think he was diffusing a bomb given the intensity he looked at hair when working. Finally, he nodded and Coco was gone from the room in an instant without a single word of thanks.

“She’s a mess,” Gallant sighed, turning back to pack up his things.

“For once we agree on something.”

“Why did you agree to do this?” he asked, waving a comb as he continued to pack up, “aren’t you usually holed up in the library?”

“Bored.”

Gallant chuckled, “Fair.”

Rolling the loose thread back around the spool, Em made her way back to her room. Without the outside distraction, something to focus on, her mind went back to its earlier worries. She felt like she was staring at a brick wall, wondering how to tear it down when her only tools were her own two hands. If she got to the other side… maybe then she could find something.

Movement caught her eye as she turned a corner, looking up to find Langdon holding the door open for Coco. Something stirred in her chest and she turned away and kept walking before it could fester. Her cheeks warmed as she felt eyes burning into the side of her head.

Emotions were far too stressful. That’s why she liked logic. She just had to focus on the logic. Then she’d be safe.

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

There was nothing like the impending doom of death to make people do anything to chase away anxiety. Even after a solemn vow to never play the game again, they had brought their make-shift Pictionary once more. Bits of extra paper and a whiteboard from the Grey’s common area used to draw upon.

“Oh! Cats the musical!” Coco yelled out as Andre drew, “Horny!”

Timothy kept an eye on his pocket watch, finally looking up as he called time.

“Rosemary’s Baby!” Andre shouted at Coco, circling the spikes at the top of the head he was drawing, “They’re horns!”

Coco huffed and waved a hand as she fell back in her sleep, grabbing her water and taking a drink as Timothy’s eyes returned to his watch.

“Okay! He announced, “Emily and Emily!”

Em got up and reached into the box of folded cards, looking at the words written. Her lips twisted as she thought about how to approach it.

“Ready?” Timothy asked. Em nodded. “Go!”

Rapidly, Em drew a caricature on the white-board as Emily leaned forward in her seat.

“Dolly Parton!” Emily shouted after a few moments. Em threw down the pencil in victory, a large grin on her face.

“No fair!” Coco bemoaned, gesturing to the pair, “you have fucking Da Vinci on your team.”

“I was on your team last time.” Em reminded.

“That was ages ago!”

Em’s eyes flitted up to the balcony which loomed over the salon, a familiar figure in black catching her eye. The glow of the fire made it seem like his hair was made of gold. He leaned on the railing like a content cat watching the mice play.

She pretended she hadn’t noticed him but could feel his eyes on her back, the hairs on her neck standing on end as the buzzing feeling began to return.

“Okay, Timmy,” Gallant declared, rising from his seat to take the board from Em, “our time to shine.”

Her focus on the man watching them was interrupted by Timothy tossing her his pocket watch. If not for the way it caught the light Em would have let it drop.

When she looked up Langdon was gone as if he were a shadow instead of a man.

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon #ahs x reader #ahs x oc #ahs #fanfic #fanfiction #ahs fanfic #american horror story fic

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