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jocazep · 4 years ago

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In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 11

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Synopsis: Having grown up in the Front Sections of the Snowpiercer, you venture down the train when a rare opportunity presents itself, but the excursion quickly changes flavor when you arrive in the Tail Section.

A/N: Sooooo it's been a while... mainly because I didn't want to write the inevitable [SPOILER] of a certain character...but alas, the fanfic must go on. So here we go again...

Taglist: Now closed

Series Masterlist

Chapter 11 - Breaking Bread

“I forgot to ask,” you reached out to grab Curtis’ right arm as the gang shuffled along the green aisles of the garden section.

“What?” Curtis was too busy looking at the overwhelming plants, trees, and vegetables that he thought had long been extinct in the world. It was a beautiful sight, you had to admit, especially compared with the monotone bleakness of the tail section. So beautiful that when Namgoong opened the door, everyone’s eyes, with the sole exception of Mason’s, lit up as this unimaginable paradise was presented to them.

“That little scar on your forearm--”

“It’s nothing--” you felt his arm stiffen beneath your hand, his left hand involuntarily scratching the coat over the position of the scar. To be honest, you could barely remember what it looked like anyway. In the heat of passion last night, your eyes caught a long, even line near the elbow that looked more like the remnant of a precision surgery than a battle scar.

“All right, keep your mysterious cool guy aura then,” The scar piqued your interest, but you decided against pushing for an answer--there will be time after the matter at hand... You grabbed tighter onto his arm, tip-toeing to place your lips near his ear and whisper, “Tease.”

Curtis turned around, surprised. You didn’t need to forego all the fun, right?

“No, no, no don’t eat that--” a worker reached out to Tanya, who had picked up a tomato.

“It’s OK, just a tomato.” You calmed the worker down, rolling up your sleeve, “Here use my credit.” The worker took out the scanner, still hesitant, but obliged you. A small beep sounded and you were on your way.

“What was that?” It was Curtis’ turn to be curious.

“Well up front we have this thing called currency--” you joked, but the sight ahead distracted your audience.

You had come to the aquarium section.

Moments later, the eight of you were sitting along the sushi bar, staring at the plates of exquisite raw fish in front of you.

“So, sushi.“ Tanya took up her serving and popped it into her mouth.

“You people are lucky! This is only served twice a year, January, and July,” Mason decided this was a good time to open her mouth.

“Why, not enough fish?” Tanya quibbed dryly, as a massive manta flowed overhead.

“Enough isn’t the criterion,” You absent-mindedly took over the conversation from Mason as you poured the soy-sauce for your toro nigiri, “It’s balance--”

You lift your head to put back the soy-sauce, only to realize everyone to your right was looking your way, waiting for you to finish your thought.

“What about balance?” Curtis, sitting to your left, asked.

You whipped your head back, a quick moment as you looked at the man--he will need to know sooner or later, right?

“Be...because of that--” you pointed to the whiteness outside, the remnants of a metropolis whipping past, “the only way this aquarium was going to survive, was by becoming a closed ecological system. The number of individual units must be very closely, precisely controlled in order to maintain the proper, sustainable balance.”

“Like so many other things on this train.”

You passed a stern look to Mason, who was bitterly fiddling with the iron around her wrists.

“Whoever designed this got really lucky then,” Namgoong commented.

“Oh no, back in the first year my--” you caught yourself before the word “father” slipped out, “my friends told me they had to get rid of the fish that couldn’t fit into the food chain...”

“What, the restaurant served exclusively fish?” Curtis could almost hear Edgar’s ranting in his ear.

“Some,” You picked at the wasabi, smearing it on your sushi, “a lot of them got made into taxidermies for posterity...” It was only after the room became quiet that you realized you misspoke, “I’m sorry...It was...”

“It’s all right, it’s what actually happened,” Curtis put his arm on your shoulder, pulling you closer towards him.

You couldn’t let it go that easily of course. Remember your surroundings, you were bothered that your father’s voice rang up in your head. But the truth was you probably needed a reminder, after such a long time with the revolters, it’s easy to forget what you were really here for. Better now than later.

But it seemed the meal was just destined to go awry--no sooner had Mason picked up her chopsticks, than Curtis pulled on the chain, jerking the tools out of Mason’s control.

“No,” Curtis palmed out a protein bar, waving it in front of Mason, “You eat this. Know what it’s made of?”

Mason took it up, and threw a quick look at you, only to realize you had pre-empted her by turning your attention to Yuna sitting to your right.

“Curtis my friend, this seems uncalled for--“

“I’m not your friend, and this is 100% called for.”

”Would I be your friend if I had classified information about Wilford?“

Uh-oh. You forced yourself to turn your head--naturally and slowly--towards Curtis and Mason, “Curtis...” You lay your hand on his, and shook your head.

You could swear you saw his nostrils flare up a little, “We have had to eat this for, hell you have had to eat this for--”

“But isn’t the point of the revolt--”

“The point,” Curtis wriggled his hand from underneath yours, and flung the protein bar at Mason, “is to make them pay for what they did to us--”

“Make them pay? Weren’t we fighting for equal quality--“

“Not after what they did to Edgar--”

“How is degrading Mason any help?”

“At least I’ll sleep a little better knowing I made one front-sectioner get a taste of their own medicine.”

The words hung like leaden rings in the air, reverberating through your spine. Mason looked on, unsure how to react.

“Well,” after a long while, you finally opened your mouth, “then let that be me instead.”

Curtis, like everyone else, was taken aback. They watched as you reached out, switching the protein bar with your own sushi serving.

“Jo, that’s not what Curtis meant...” Tanya tried to diffuse the situation, but you ignored her, biting down on the brownish jelly, forcing the rubbery morsels down your throat. It tasted even worse than you remembered.

When you couldn’t stomach any more of the protein bar, you stuffed the rest in your pocket, got to your feet, and walked to the far end of the aquarium.

Curtis made a move to follow you, but Tanya stopped him, “let her blow off a little steam.” Curtis nodded, still hesitant, his eyes trailing your footsteps as they quickened the closer you moved towards the restroom.

Yuna ran past, intent on following you, but was met with the slamming of the steel door in her face. She looked back at Curtis and company, a little confused and hurt.

On the other side of the door, you were puking your guts out, eyes welling up, nose running. It wasn’t just the thought of eating protein extracted from millions of locusts that turned your stomach--the little clash had brought a stern reality check in your head: this is a revolt, and whatever the original intent, if Curtis and Co succeed, there will be suffering and chaos before any sort of balance is reached.

Guess the old man was pretty perceptive after all...you thought as you finally straightened up, wiping your face with water, trying to recall what your father had planned in case the revolt went further than the water section, only to realize Wilford had actively excluded you from that conversation.

You were wondering if he had predicted your eventual realization of the irreconcilable conflict between your visions of change and those of the revolt when a gentle knock sounded at the door. You checked your face in the mirror, forcing an air of nonchalance—you don’t want Curtis to think you had been crying, even if it was just from nausea.

“Are you OK?” It was Yuna’s voice coming through the door.

Eyes dropping a little, you pulled opened the door, “yeah, just nature calling. What’s up?”

Yuna raised the same wrinkled notebook page, pointing at the pencil-colored steel drawers.

“Yes we’ve been through this—“ Yuna pushed the paper closer to you, forcing you to take a closer look. There were shallow indents on the page, remnants of your notes when you made your way down the train.

Oh god. You panicked as you scrambled to remember what you might have written on those pages.

“Yuna, listen—“

“Guys, c’mon, we are moving onto the next section.” Tanya called out.

You nodded in her direction, and looked down at Yuna, “we’ll revisit this?” Yuna put the paper back into her pocket and followed you to join the gang.

As the two of you approached, Curtis tried to find your eyes. He wished he could say that he didn’t mean what he said, but he knew you saw the truth behind the hot-blooded words. Years of oppression had created a beast within him, and it was easy to hate the front-sectioners when they were faceless beings living in his head, or the pompous Mason. But now...

To be honest he had stopped thinking of you as a front-sectioner since well before your passionate evening together. Which makes it all the more frustrating when you chose to remind him of the undeniable fact, stirring awake the beast he thought he had put to sleep. He knows it’s not your fault—you were barely out of school when you boarded the train. And it is terribly difficult for him to imagine the courage it took for you to side with him against your family and friends—goodness he had never thought about that before. Do you still have family in the front--

His train of thought came to a grinding halt as you walked past him, determined not to look at him. Curtis felt his brows furrow further, and jerking the chain, pulled Mason forward.

“Curtis my friend, could we dispense with the chains for the next section?”

“Why?” A half-distracted answer from Curtis as he watched you push the door open with Namgoong and Grey, heading into the freezer section.

“Well, for the sake of the young, the children--“ Mason was barely finished with her sentence when you walked over, taking off your overcoat and draping it over her cuffs.

”What do you think you’re doing?“ Curtis didn’t sound too pleased.

“It’s the school section next,” you said as you strode to the front of the procession again, “kids shouldn’t be a part of this.”

The silence game between you and Curtis continued throughout the freezer section please, you walking at the front, him trailing in the back with Mason. You started fidgeting as you walked past the racks of beef and frozen chickens—maybe giving Mason your coat wasn’t such a great idea. But you were not going to give Curtis the satisfaction, so you did the only thing you could do, walk faster.

“Hey, spoiled lady, wanna slow the fuck down?” Namgoong never actually learned your name, which doesn’t really make a difference to your really...

“Sorry, I’m just not very good with cold.” You said as you slowed your steps until you were in the same footing as the disheveled security specialist.

“Then you’re fucked in this world.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “yeah guess I am...” Then you remembered something, “Why does the Yekaterina Bridge mean so much to you?”

“What?”

“I saw you looking for something through the windows when everyone was hanging on for dear life. Must have been pretty important to you...”

A moment of silence as Namgoong stopped his steps. You kept your eyes on him, waiting for an answer. He let out a sigh, raising a hand, “you wanna swipe your implant to open the door, or should I?”

You turned your head—and see the door at the end of the section.

When the rest of the company finally caught up to you and Namgoong, Curtis noticed your fidgeting hands as they raised up to unlock the door, the fingertips showing just a tiny hint for blue. With Mason in tow, he strode up to you, taking your hand before you could retract it.

“Wh—“

“You’re freezing,” Curtis said as the lively noise of children hit you like a heatwave. Bright colors assaulted your eyes and saccharin songs flowed through the concrete doors.

“I’m fine,” you replied, your hand twitching within his grasp, but not quite withdrawing it.

“Look, I feel like an asshole for earlier...” Curtis took a pause as the rest of the company shuffled past into the school section. A pregnant lady led the children in chorus as an educational, semi-propaganda introduction of the train was blaring on the TV at the moment. Thank god you were too old for this when you first boarded.

When it was once again just the two of you hovering at the entrance, Curtis continued, “Here take my coat—” He moved to shrug off his tattered coat, but you stopped him.

“Sure this front-sectioner has had enough taste of her own medicine?”

“C’mon, I don’t think of you as a front—“

That’s not exactly what you were hoping to hear.

“But I am one,” you said as you pulled your hand free, his fingers leaving visible prints on yours, “and up to a month ago, everyone in my life is one too.”

”But now you’re with us—”

“There should be no ‘us’ or ‘them’, that’s kind of the point of all this jazz, Curtis.”

Curtis just blinked at you. You could see the idea behind your words not quite computing within his mind, a mind that had always lived in the darker part of a dichotomy. And a part of your resolution melted away.

“Let’s do this another time,” You laid one hand on his, urging him to put his coat back on.

“Sure you’re ok without the coat?”

“I’ll survive. My blood is still raging hot from our fight earlier.” Curtis was a little bummed at your joking dismissal of his concern, but he knew there was no use pushing you.

“Children, let’s say hello to our guests from the tail section...” To her credit, the pregnant teacher kept her countenance as she took in the group of torn coats and ragged shoes filing past her, Tanya and Andrew getting their grease-stained fingers on a student’s face every once in a while when they thought he resembled their sons.

“Today is the first day of the new year, so we have a special little treat,” the teacher said as a well-dressed, clean-shaven Gerald walked in, to everyone’s surprise.

Amidst murmurs of “Is that Gerald?”, your eyes glazed over, thinking about his wife back in the tail section and her broken hand. And your resolution crumbled further—surely the train could have made room for one more violinist? A cloudy silhouette of the previous violinist took form in front of your eyes—was she the first chair of the Viennese Philharmonic? You couldn’t quite recall, except for the fact that she played at the weekly fete.

You were so lost in thought, and music, to have noticed Egghead walking down the aisle, handing each child a New Year’s celebratory egg.

And then, came the most traumatic three minutes of your life.

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

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freakie-deakie · 6 years ago

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Hyunjin // If We Let Go (Part 2)

Guys oh my gosh I didn't think you were gonna like the first part so much and all the positive responses made me so happy I just 😭🙏❤️💕💓💞 tyty I love you all sm

Okay so this was originally a one shot, but I decided to make it into a mini series. I feel like this chapter is a little slow, but I've already started on the next one I promise it gets more exciting. I hope you enjoy it~💕

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Hyunjin x Reader (angst mini series // 3k words)

There was a soft knock at his door, drawing Jeongin's attention back to the outside world after several hours of appreciated solitary confinement. It felt nice for him to blow off some steam through listening to music and napping in his familiar area. His roommates didn't even bother him, which felt like a rare blessing that grew from roots of pity, but he'd take solace in quietness wherever he could find it.

"Do you..." Chan's voice faded away as he gathered his thoughts. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he tried. "I made breakfast for us."

Bang Chan didn't make breakfast for everyone in the shared apartment. Part of him wanted to, and to have everyone eat together when morning came, thinking maybe it would dispell some tension between his teammates. The other part of him knew that it wouldn't work. Even if he had cooked for eight, Felix having been absent and at your aid, many of the members didn't want to look at each other after the bomb had been so casually dropped into yesterday's conversation.

Jeongin's refreshing period of isolation was probably the only reason he didn't get instantly defensive, yet it still hadn't drained his habit of sarcastically shrugging off serious situations.

"You mean about how I totally embarrassed myself and let everyone know about my crush on my friend's ex?" He laughed bitterly. "Thanks hyung, but I'm good."

A sigh could be heard through the thin wood that separated them. "I'm gonna come in," Chan spoke softly.

Before he could even jiggle the door handle, the youngest was already out of bed and holding the door shut. "Hyung, I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget it."

"Let's talk for just a minute," Chan bargained. "Please."

There was a moment if silence and contemplation on both sides of the door. It was so fragile that it was eventually broken by only a soft huff and a click, the younger swiftly opening the door, pulling his older brother inside, and closing it once more.

"Felix is gonna stay with Y/N until things settle down a little bit but-" Chan cut himself off when he saw Jeongin's eyes start to squint to hold back tears. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He was quickly at his side, pulling his head to his shoulder in a masculine attempt of comfort. The other could have cared less about his masculinity at that moment as he wrapped his arms around his hyung's torso as tightly as his unsteady muscles could let him hold on to someone.

"How could someone be so cruel?" he begged the answer. "And why did I have to say that? I kept it a secret for so long, why did I have to say it at the worst time, in front of everyone?"

Chan held the back of the younger's head, wrapping his spare arm around him to pat his back. "I don't know what they were thinking, honestly."

"I really like her," Jeongin confessed. "I want her to be happy. Why are they so unfair to her? And she'll never know how unfair they've been. It's not fair," he cried, pushing his face harder into the other's shoulder, focusing on trying to keep his breathing under control. Chan mentally noted that Jeongin was still unaware that Y/N had heard the majority of the conversation that took place as he had stormed off before they'd detected her presence.

"I know," Chan soothed, running his hand over the baby hairs at the base of Jeongin's neck. "I know."

•

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bacy," Felix taunted, moving the plate of fresh cooked breakfast foods under your nose, approximately half of your body being draped off the side of your cramped couch. He shook you lightly, trying once more. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty~"

Your eyes fluttered open, still feeling heavy and bound by the seal of dried tears. "You're too good to me," you croaked, slowly sitting up and taking in your surroundings.

"Someone has to be," he commented sideways. There was a small pause before you both broke out into a series of awkward chuckles. "Too soon?"

"Too soon," you agreed.

"Aish, I'm sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit." He put your plate in your lap and went to fetch his own.

When he sat down, he slowly placed a bite of egg in his mouth, eyeing every one of your movements closely as you ate, acting as if he expected you to break down at any moment. He wanted to talk, hoping venting would help you, but he had no idea how to start a conversation about-

"Maybe I'll just become a lesbian," you stated simply, popping a grape in your mouth.

He choked on his bite, holding a hand to the base of his throat and coughing. 'I guess that's one way to do it.'

"I mean, I find girls attractive. Like, maybe not as in I'm attracted to them, but I'm not blind. Who knows, maybe I'll end up gay? Women seem so much easier. Like, I know what a girl wants, 'cause I am one. I don't know how to play my cards with guys. I don't understand how much care I can give them before it hurts their stupid dick-pride, or how much care I can ask for before I get annoying and needy-"

"I'm gonna have to stop you right there." He glared at you from your side. He knew you had a tendency to hide your feelings with twisted humor, laced with self depreciation. "You're not annoying or needy. You just had a bad apple for a boyfriend."

You sighed, laughing with void emotion. "I don't know.. I don't wanna dwell on this."

"It hasn't even been a day. No one will judge you if you take some time to heal-"

"I've had plenty of time. Time is a virtue. In the time I've had, I decided I want to forget everything. Close a chapter, get a fresh start."

"You've literally been awake for like two minutes."

"And in those two minutes I decided to become a lesbian and not care that giving someone four months of my undivided love and attention was only for a bet because my significant other was actually repulsed by me. Look at me, gettin' on with my life."

"Look, Hyunj-" he stopped himself when he saw your eyes flicker with petty anger. "The guy was undeniably a brainless dick, but like you said, up his. So now, self-care. And self-care starts with talking out the things you need to talk out to prevent bottling. I know this because I watched a lot of Dr. Phill."

You poked his leg with your fork, earning a yelp. "I'm not bottling, I'm just being the bigger person and letting go."

You both ate in silence until your brain formulated another question. You were about to ask, but Felix confessed before he even knew you were on the same page.

"By the way, I had to pick your lock last night. I got the door open, low-key might have broken your handle though. Someone is bringing your purse later."

You eyed him with such false disgust that he gave you one of his own biscuits as an apology.

You laughed lightly, putting it back on his plate and standing, done with your own. You dropped it off by your sink and rewrapped yourself in your comforter.

Felix finished eating just in enough time to move his plate from his lap to the coffee table and allow you to take its place.

"I don't wanna cry on you," you chuckled, tears coming back to your eyes. "I don't wanna be weak; but if you don't leave, I'm going to."

Yet again, Felix tried another not-well-timed joke to sooth you. "Well you just laid on me, fatty. I don't really have an option now, do I?" More tears threatened to spill from your eyes at that. You buried your face in his chest, a small sniffle escaping you. "I'm sorry, that was mean. And it's not true, you're beautiful and I want you to cry on me."

"Do you think that's why he didn't like me? Because I'm-"

"Don't you even call yourself fat." He looked down at you, his hand that wasn't holding you up and rubbing your back threatening to flick your forehead. "Or clingy, or needy. Sure, you sometimes one-eighty your emotions, but that's part of your perfection. You're perfect; it's that dick that needs some serious readjustments."

You softly hit his chest, chuckling to yourself as your face continued to become a fully functioning water park. "Shh, this ain't about your opinions. Just let me rant." He removed your hand from his chest and held it, his thumb running over the back of it.

"I want you to rant in a healthy way then. No self deprecation, understand?" You pitifully nodded, wiping at your eyes until the skin of your cheeks was raw.

"I don't wanna do this. I'm not good with talking through actual emotions. Can we just go lay in bed and watch movies? I think I wanna call in sick today anyways."

He gave you a couple of minutes to calm down before lifting you and stumbling to your bedroom. He plopped you on the bed and moved to get your laptop. "The Lion King, Frozen, The Lone Ranger? What are you in the mood for."

"Fifty Shades," you said just to tip him off.

"My Little Pony it is."

•

The first thing Hyunjin did when he got up was stretch and check his messages out of habit. But there were none.

On any normal day, the group chat would have been being spammed with the names of Spanish foods beginning with letters A through Z, or an argument about which horse breed is the best. If not that, there was always your message waiting in his in-box. Today, there was nothing.

His room was empty, too. He figured his roommates had probably crashed with someone else.

He rolled out of his bed, slipping his feet into his slippers and straightening his pajama-bottoms. Scratching the back of his neck, he padded down the hallway and into the kitchen. There was nobody.

Everything was eerily quiet.

He found two plates of food on the stove top, but as no one in the dorms had ever made breakfast for all of them, he knew their owners would return for them soon. He poured himself cereal and sat at the counter.

Low and behold, he was right. As he scrolled through media pages on his phone, two bodies joined him in the kitchen. One, the baby of the group with tears running down his face, his red puffy eyes being more than enough to make Hyunjin freeze and rest his spoon in his bowl and phone on the counter. Neither, though both noticing his presence, decided to acknowledge him.

"Jeongin.." Hyunjin tried. The maknae didn't turn to him, taking his plate from Chan and heading towards the door, the leader right behind him. "Jeongin, what's wrong?"

"Screw off, hyung."

Being the responsible figure in loco parentis, Chan obviously wasn't in support of his members fighting. Tension only made everything more horrible, from tight living conditions to an already stressful work environment. At the same time, he felt Hyunjin deserved to hear those words. He still deeply cared about him, and didn't want him to think badly of himself, but he wasn't against someone telling him to reevaluate himself.

Hyunjin received the silent treatment from the majority of his members all week. Others involved in the scandal hid away in their rooms most of the time. Felix had come home, but refused to sleep in the same room as Jisung, opting to sleep in the couch instead. You hadn't reached out to any of them since you kicked Felix out of your apartment so you could cry in peace. Most of you found yourselves drowning in work to avoid the problem that resided between you all.

All lines of communication were too quiet. Not even the members texted each other. Social silence.

And so, for the third time, Felix finds himself picking the lock on your door. A sigh of relief fell off his lips when a soft click and low creek alerted him that he now had safe entry.

He slipped inside, passing the kitchenette and into the living area. He found you sprawled out on the sofa, catching Z's while anime played in the background.

Upon further investigation, he discovered your bed made, not a wrinkle in it's sheets, and two empty boxes of microwavable popcorn. The trashcan was overflowing with butter lined bags that smelled of (favorite seasoning), the smell so far past being intensely olfactible that he gagged.

There weren't any used dishes laying around, aside from the mug of a suspicious liquid on the coffee table in front of you and the half eaten bowl of popcorn ready to slip out of your grasp.

On your work desk sat a completed stack of papers that stood impossibly high for a stack of papers. 'She's overworking herself.'

He shook his head, closing the door and making his way back towards the entrance to your kitchen. He was going to break your unhealthy food cycle that consisted of popcorn and what he assumed to be some sort of caffeine. He started at an ungodly hour, seeing as he was going to be cooking for a decently large group of people.

--a few hours--

When you woke up, you didn't even clock the other people in your house. You pulled yourself off of the couch and slumped to the bathroom.

"Wow, she looks like death," Changbin commented to the boy at his side who sipped his coffee and nodded.

When you finished your business, you washed your hands and looked in the mirror. Your hair was distraught, clothes disheveled, and skin under the attack of a light break out.

Groaning, you turned on the shower to let it heat up and ungraceful stumbled out to turn on the coffee machine. It wasn't until you had passed them and noticed the already made coffee that you noticed the six boys who resided in your kitchen and were watching every one of your movements closely.

Changbin and Chan sat at your island bar, Jeongin leaning most of his weight on the prior. Woojin stood by the cabinets, and Seungmin leaned in the fake marble countertop. The artificial ginger with the thick accent stood over the stove, a spatula hovering above the scrambled eggs.

You all looked at each other.

Silence.

Awkward silence.

"Well, uhm," you started, trying to gather your thoughts before your mouth ran off and left you behind. At least, you tried to but all you could really process was the fact that you looked like an absolute mess and you had no idea why there were people in your apartment. "Since you already started the coffee, I guess I'm gonna hit the shower," you said quietly, holding up a peace sign and backing out of the open space.

When you returned, everyone ate in uncomfortable banter, most of which was praising Felix for his cooking skills. Finally, you got around to asking, "So why are you guys here?"

They looked at one another with confusion. "You sent us all messages last night telling us to visit you today," voiced the leader. Felix's mouth stretched into a wide, impossibly-missed grin.

"You little snake," you said, narrowing your eyes at the boy who sat across from you. "I gave you my phone password for emergencies! How did you even get my- Did you break into my house again?"

"This was an emergency," he whined. "We miss you! We want to make you happy. And you needed to eat something that wasn't junk food."

You huffed, sticking another bite in your mouth. "You're such a worrywart. I'm fine."

"Y/N," Changbin cut in, "we're never gonna stop worrying about you."

Breakfast continued, eventually falling into more inviting idle chat about anything and everything that was not involving the tree people who were missing from the crowd. Afterwards, four of the boys excused themselves for work.

"Jeongin, Felix, it's cool if you two want to stay or go home since you recorded your parts yesterday."

You chuckled at the hard working men standing by your door. "You guys really still have to work on your days off?"

Chan sent a wink in your direction. "We'll sleep when we're dead, babygirl. Don't worry about us."

"Speak for yourself, hyung. I need my naps," Seungmin butted in.

"We're off to the studio if you need anything," Woojin restated before walking his children out the door.

You played video games for a while with the two that were left. After a while, you ended up just watching them because you were still moderately tired from pulling late nights. Work had been drowning recently, but it made for a good escape, almost convincing you to stop swimming away from it. Almost convincing you to sink.

A couple of weeks went by like that. Working, working, working, spending time with Felix, working, working, spending time with Jeongin, working, working, being occasionally visited or checked in on by one of your friends that didn't stab you in the back, working, working, and more working.

You unintentionally used work as a way to distance yourself from everyone. You voluntarily let your job as a(n) (occupation) consume you. You didn't have time to worry about your boys, or boys in general. You didn't have time to remember that you loved someone who had bet against you or that one of his best friends had admitted to liking you in the fire of the moment.

It felt like heaven to have none of that be relevant anymore.

But it was more than relevant to Hyunjin, who was now missing a surprisingly large piece of his day.

You.

Even he couldn't believe how long it took him to come around to the idea that you were important to him.

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tcswritings · 6 years ago

Text

Movie night. (wip)

:: updated on 07/18/2019 ::

Orla and Mick have a movie night.

“Just makin’ sure I got this right, okay?”

“Whatever, go on!” Orla rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile as she knew what was about to come.

Mick had peeked in a few hours ago, to bring some of her stuff back that she had left at his place after the last party in his apartment. It was Friday night and Orla had just gotten comfy, about to watch some of her favourite movies and since she didn’t really feel like going out but still longed for some nice company, Orla had asked her friend to stay and join her for a spontaneous movie night.

They sat on her couch together, legs stretched out on her table, sharing the food they had ordered in, occasionally paying a decent amount of attention to Artie, Orla’s large orange tabby, who would play his usual game of “come and go” every thirty minutes.

“So, she comes to his book store.”

“Mhm.”

“She buys the shitty book instead of the good one.”

“Yeah.”

“And then she just leaves again, and he goes and gets a drink and, surprise, he runs into her ‘round the next corner again!”

“Congrats to payin’ attention for five minutes straight!”

Mick ignored Orla’s sentiment. “How’s that even realistic? Suuuure, of all people she could run into, she runs into the book store guy with whom she had the most awkward encounter ten minutes ago!”

Orla merely groaned. Watching movies with Mick (that he didn’t know) could be… interesting. She usually enjoyed watching his reactions since they were always so genuine but there were those other times when it was hard for her - or anyone involved - to keep a straight face or times, just like now, when all she wanted to do was to smack his head with one of her cushions.

“It’s a movie, Mick. If he hadn’t seen her again, the movie would’ve been over after ten minutes.”

“All I’m sayin’ is that’s not very realistic to casually run into a movie star twice a day, within fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Yeah, right, but it’s SO realistic that Sandra Dee comes from Australia all the way up to the USA, to that one high school of what’s probably billions of high schools, that her summer crush attends. Oh, surprise!” Orla mocked her friend.

“Hey, I thought you liked 'Grease’.”

“I love 'Grease’, but certainly not for it’s-” Orla made air quotes, “- realism, but because it’s cute and they have amazing clothes. You’re just ruinin’ one of my favourite movies for me now because you can’t stand Julia Roberts.”

“Her smile’s creepy.”

“I wish I had just thrown you out earlier.” Orla mumbled, slightly disgruntled.

“Nah, ya don’t!” Mick looked over to her and smiled before he snatched some more of the food out of the boxes between them.

Orla looked back at him and returned his smile, albeit a bit ironically. Actually, it was more of a grimace. A thought crossed her mind. “What’s your deal anyway? It’s not like those things never happen?”

“When do these things ever happen?” Mick asked, lazily, reaching for the curry sauce and spreading a rather disturbing amount of it over his chicken nuggets. Orla watched him, with a mix of admiration and disgust, before she picked up her train of thought again.

“Well, Kieran ran into Charlie again, just like that? And they didn’t have a great start either, by the way.”

“That’s different.” Mick insisted, shoving one of the chicken nuggets into his mouth, munching and looking amused now.

“How’s that different?”

“Charlie ain’t a movie shtar.” Mick stated, still chewing, and after a few moments, he went on, speaking clearly again. “Besides, from what I gathered, it was the fav’ pub of both. It took a little longer ‘cause Kieran lives over the pond, but they were kinda bound t’ meet again, aye?”

“Exactly! They were bound to meet again! It was fate!”

“Yeeah, that is… not what I meant.”

“It is how these things work, though! Right time, right place and all that shit. Sure, you gotta help out fate a bit sometimes, 'cause she’s hella busy, but we all just tend to act on the situations we get in, right? Or, well, we don’t.”

“That still doesn’t explain why book store guy ran into a movie star twice a day. I never ran into Liv Tyler so far, not even once, and damn, it’s not like I haven’t tried.” Mick laughed.

“That was just fate sayin’ 'I’ve given you a second chance, don’t blow it this time!’.” Orla insisted. “When Lauren came to the record store for the first time, it was coincidence, sure. The second time was fate, though.”

Mick shrugged, apparently not at all convinced. “I’d say she came back 'cause she had the hots for Declan. She kinda planned it, she told us.”

“Okay, maybe that was a bad example.” Orla admitted and bit her lip. “But hey, what if Charlie had never told Kieran to fuck off in first place? He always ends up doing the opposite of what he’s told. I mean she wouldn’t know back then that she had just created her future husband by doing that. BAM. Love story. That was fate.”

“’Created her future husband’? Orla, you’re not even making sense anymore. Lots of gals told Kieran t’ fuck off and he didn’t marry ‘em all-” Mick tried to interfere but Orla was on a roll.

“Or, I dunno, just think about Leila who had to get her car fixed. Of all garages within a fifty mile radius, she picked yours.”

“Yeah and I kinda wish she hadn’t.” Mick sighed, not even looking into Orla’s direction, and she immediately regretted bringing it up in first place.

What was wrong with her?

“Oh gosh, wow, gimme just two beer and I turn into the greatest dick on earth. I’m so sorry. Bad example.”

“Nah, it’s fine, it’s been a while.”

“No, it’s not fine. My stupid big mouth’s gonna get me into some real trouble some day.” Orla sighed and she looked really troubled by what she had just blurted out with.

“It’s what I always liked most about you. You tell unfiltered truths, that’s fun.” Mick laughed, giving her a look that told her he really was fine.

The statement still took Orla off guard, but she decided to not let him know about it and so she merely smiled at her friend and he smiled back and they looked at each other for a few more moments until Mick cleared his throat.

“Besides, it’s not all bad, y'know.” he said. “ At least I now know that I should just leave that shit be. I mean, why even date someone? Why the hassle? ’s not like it ever works out? Some of us are just bound t’ be alone, I guess.”

“Ugh, no, don’t be a dramatic sadsack now.” Orla laughed. “That’s my job.”

“At least ya not tryin’ to tell me that 'she’s still out there’, that I 'just have to find her’.” Mick rolled his eyes and sank a little further into the couch now.

“Yeah well, you just learned what you have to do about that? Give fate a chance. Quit your job, become a book seller and finally meet Liv and be happy.”

“You’re cute.” Smiling, Mick now crossed his arms behind the back of his head. “I’m not a happily-ever-after guy, though.”

“I bet you are.” Orla insisted. “I dunno, you just need someone who’s-”

The doorbell rang. Startled, both Orla and Mick looked up.

“At this time?” Orla mumbled. “Wait a second, I’ll be right back.”

Mick watched after her as she got up and bolted to the corridor.

He couldn’t peek around the corner so he had no idea who the surprise visitor was. He could hear an unfamiliar, deep (and rather muffled) voice, though. Mick raised an eyebrow and smirked. ‘Random male visitors late at night, I see how it is.’ he thought to himself, amused.

Before he could think anything else, Orla was already back, with a rather irritated look on her face.

“Apparently no one ever reads nameplates anymore.” she sighed and slumped back down on the couch, putting her feet back on the table.

“Huh?”

“That guy was confused, I tell ya. Came to see First Floor Mary, y’know, the one with the glasses, and then he was like-” Orla lowered her voice, seemingly to imitate the stranger, “‘Oh, you’re not Mary, so this isn’t Fitzpatrick?’.... NO, moron, and if you had bothered to read my nameplate which is right next to my door, you would’ve known!”

Enjoying Orla’s rant, Mick let out a hearty laugh. “That’s weird, First Floor Mary must’ve let him in earlier. How can anyone fuck it up that bad from there on?”

“What do I even know.” Orla sighed again. After a few moments, she sheepishly added: “He was kinda cute, though.”

“What?”

“Confused guy was cute! He actually had this bit of bookish-ness that Will Thacker has.” Orla nodded towards her TV.

“Bookish-ness? Is that even a word?” Mick raised an eyebrow. He certainly wasn’t an expert when it came to linguistics and the use of phrases but he was sure that he had never heard the term ‘bookish-ness’ before.

Orla ignored his remark. Again, she waited a few moments before she spoke up again. “Don’t you just miss it sometimes, though?” she eventually asked.

Mick blinked, confused. “Miss what?”

“I know you just said you’re done with relationships and all, and, I mean, from your perspective I even get it, after Leila and all...” Orla paused. “... and James breaking up with me hurt pretty bad, too, and it’s not like I want a new boyfriend just now but you and I have been single for a little while now and... don’t you ever miss... y’know? The other things?”

“The other things.” Still not understanding what Orla was on about, Mick looked at her with a ‘Just say what you mean!’ expression on his face, hoping that she would stop talking in weird multi-clause sentences.

Orla read his expression well, as usual, and she rolled her eyes. “Sex. Letting off steam. Making out.”

“Ah.” Mick let out another little laugh. He didn’t answer right away but Orla could see that he pondered the question in his mind. She smiled.

A thing Orla always loved about Mick was that he has never been a ‘Kiss and tell’ kind of guy and that he never engaged much in this kind of conversations. She knew quite a bunch of people who would’ve jumped at the chance to ramble about this particular subject, bragging and telling half-truths or maybe even one lie after another, probably even believing what they are saying.

Not him, though. Even now, as they were in each other’s trusted company, he merely shrugged. “I dun’ know. I mean, yeah, ‘course I do. Sometimes.”

“And when you see a cute girl somewhere, don’t you ever think stuff like, I dunno, ‘Man, I really wanna pin her against the next wall!’ or something? I know you would never do it just like that, but you sure think that kinda stuff, right?”

“Aye.” Mick nodded. “Thoughts are free.”

“See, that is exactly where I am now!” Orla eventually moaned, throwing her hands in the air. “I see a cute random guy who somehow managed to get lost in my apartment complex and all I can think about now is how I drag him inside and make out with him on the hallway rug! I’m pathetic!”

“The hallway rug?! Ya can’t even make it to the living room?”

“I’m goin’ through one hell of a dry spell, sweetie!”

“Have ya ever vacuumed that rug-”

“Oh my god! Not the point, Mick!”

“Sorry.”

Orla went on. “I just wanna, like, french someone for a start. I swear, the next guy who randomly shows up at my door will get very lucky.”

“Naaw, c'mon! What if it’s the caretaker?”

Orla looked at her friend and she pursed her lips. “Well, now that you mention him... Carl is kind of attractive.”

“Oh my god. Orla, ya can’t-”

“I am kidding!” she said, cackling at the look on Mick’s face. “I promise I won’t make out with Carl. He’s married and I’m certainly not a homewrecker.”

“Even if he wasn’t married, ya got better options.”

Orla snorted. “Yeah, about six months of nothing happening at all tell a different story, I’m afraid.”

***

(… to be continued.)

#orla x mick #orla #mick

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fangirlingpuggle · 6 years ago

Text

Crog Eva AU- Alwas Cycle Aikka POV

Prince Aikka knew that the Crogs would be attending to Alwas races, though he wished they weren’t. Especially since Toros had approached him before the races even began making it clear that Nourasia was just a tool for the Crogs in this race, that his parents, his family, his planet were hostage.

Aikka hated it.

He hated the Crogs so much.

It had been very surprising that Toros wasn’t the one racing.

He was there on Alwas, but he wasn’t the pilot, and clearly was not happy about the fact.

The pilot is strange, the Crog is around his size, tiny by Crog standards and with only one eye from the looks of it, he’d heard the mutterings of the crowd in confusion when they first saw them.

All mutterings were cut short when the pilot, defeated their first opponent in record time, moving their trident ship with expert precision and lightning speed.

During all the racers the Crog pilot was flying Toros stood watching practically seething.

He seemed to get even angrier every time the pilot won.

Aikka doesn’t really know much about the pilot, he hasn’t really paid attention, they haven’t threaten him or even been around Toros at all.

The pilot may be his challenger to beat in the race, but Toros is the real threat and the one needs to watch out for.

He’s the one who can destroy Nourasia.

Aikka doesn’t have time to worry about anything else.

He hasn’t paid much attention to the humans, or the earth team in general really, all he knows is the young male of the team is loud, arrogant and keeps sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, their pilot and older male is much easier to deal with and a capable foe.

Aikka doesn’t know what to make of the girl though.

She’s human, but he doesn’t appear to be a part of the team if the confrontation with Groor says anything.

He’d helped defend the earth time as Groor was out of line, and the earth team appeared to be honourable competitors.

Groor had been about to hit him from the side, a blow Aikka would have been just this side of to slow to avoid.

But the attack had been caught by the girl, who had flipped him Groor over her shoulder and out the window in a single fluid move.

Aikka was more than a little impressed.

She was amazingly skilled, clearly a warrior, her hair was a beautiful mix of black and red, eyes dark and intelligent, she had markings on her cheeks, faint and black of a star and a sharp pointed line from under her eye to her cheek almost like a scar, she was wearing a thick black cloak that reached the ground, making her look like a moving shadow, it was amazing.

She’d talked briefly before walking away, she’d been short with the earth team, and it had been clear she wasn’t a part of them

(Honestly they’d seemed shocked to see another human here)

She hadn’t answered their questions and left rolling her eyes, though she’s turned to him smiling “you’re really very skilled Prince Aikka”

Aikka would be lying if his cheeks hadn’t flushed at that smile and genuine compliment.

He curses himself later that he never learnt her name.

He meets her again after sparing one night he heads over to see G’dar, and she is leaning against the pen talking to him she’s wearing the thick black cloak again and it’s dripping with rain as is her hair

“And he had the nerve to say that to me, it doesn’t matter that I won he’ll never see me as one of them, and I’m stuck here with him ugh he’s the absolute worst, he’s just a malicious condescending arrg” she trailed off angrily

G’dar makes a sympatric noise to her as Aikka approaches and the girl laughs “thanks for listening sorry to unload on you but since my communicators been busted I can’t really do this to anyone else” she reaches out a hand and G’ddar moves towards is nuzzling lightly Aikka stares in awe “sorry you got all banged up out their buddy but you did great don’t worry I’m sure you’ll win your next race no problem I..” she trails off as she notices him and snaps back looking sheepish “ah Prince Aikka sorry I didn’t mean to intrude” she moves to go and Aikka isn’t thinking before he holds out a hand

“no please it’s fine” he relaxes as he sees her stop moving “Nourasian’s are known for their hospitability”

She grins back and Aikka feels his heart beat quicken at the sight “thanks I was just passing by I need to let off some steam after” she trailed off frowning

“a bad day?” he offers weakly

She sighs “it shouldn’t have been but yeah someone certainly made it one” she grumbled glaring darkly at the wall before brightening “luckily your friend here is an excellent listener” she says smiling up at G’dar who preens slightly and Aikka can’t help his own laugh from coming out

“he most certainly is” he adds and the 2 just smile at each other before Aikka catches himself getting lost in her eyes “ah I’m sorry I believe I’ve been very rude” he says straightening with a cough “you know me however, I have not yet asked for your name”

She blinks at him slowly “you don’t recognise me?”

Aikka stares back and suddenly begins racking his brain, have they met before? He’s sure he’d remember her, he’s not been able to stop himself thinking about her since he met her a few days ago if he’d met her before he’d know it he’s sure he can only weakly shake his head.

She frowns for a long moment before reaching for her faces eyes widening, in realisation “oh right you may not without the” she trailed off blushing herself “sorry that’s embarrassing”

“we’ve met before then?” he asked because he needs to know

She opens her mouth but instead a loud yell rings out from behind them “Prince Aikka” Canaan entering and glaring at the girl “who is this?” he questions approaching with a sword drawn

Aikka raises his hands “Canaan no she’s not an enemy”

At the same time he hears her “It’s ok, were allies”

Aikka blinks at that echoing “allies?”

She’s about to speak again when Canaan starts speaking about spys and the earth team, the girl doesn’t look scared at all but gives him a look as she turns to leave “I better go before this becomes a big deal sorry”

This time Aikka is able to call out “ah wait your name what” a laugh and smile cut him off she turns back to him in the rain with a wide grin

“guess you’ll just have to figure that out” it’s teasing and friendly and looking at her smiling widely rain hitting her face and looking finally at peace Aikka feels his frantically beating heart skip a beat

She’s gone then as Canaan continues ranting and insulting the earth team

“she’s not part of the earth team” Aikka finally manages after getting his mouth to work again

Canaan stops short looking confused “…then what team is she with?”

Aikka doesn’t know, but he’s going to find out

He sees her the next day, or he hears her first while he’s practicing for his match with the earth team “nice shot” he hears from behind him after the rocks start tumbling down he spins to see her standing behind him, she’s dressed in a loose red tunic and black pants and is grinning “I don’t think the earth team stand a chance”

He smiles back “I hope not, we cannot take risks with their laser cannon’s I do not want G’dar getting any more hurt”

She nods in understanding “if we get placed against each other I promise I won’t use my weapons on him just so you know” she says and Aikka slowly turns to her “I wasn’t going to anyway I mean were allies and I’ll attack a ship but no way would hurt your partner” she adds on but Aikka’s still stuck because

“you’re a racer?” he asks and mentally runs through all the pilots

She smirks slowly “yep” she pops the P “have you figured it out let?” she questions titling her head to the side

He stares at her blankly because he can’t think of anyone at all and just gapes she raises a hand to cover a laugh before holding it out “sorry I didn’t mean to tease you” she grins so warmly Aikka can feel his face flush “It’s noce to met you Prince Aikka” he reaches and shakes her hand as she finally answers the question that’s been buzzing around his mind since that first day “my names Vea”

Vea

That name is vaguely familiar but…he still has no idea who she is

It must be apparent because her face falls almost dramatically “really?” she frowns “honestly I don’t know if I should be kind of offended or happy to change is that good” she mumbled to herself

“I am so sorry” Aikka gets out through his embarrassment because he knows all racers names were said yet somehow he missed not only her name but all her races? How is that possible?

She takes one look at his frazzled face and takes mercy on him “it’s fine don’t worry about it” she puts her hands behind her back grinning widely “but now I’m allowed to tease you forever about this after you figure it out you know”

Aikka feels himself smile at that because that means, she wants to see him after the races, after the great race is over.

“It’s a deal Vea” he says her name and her grin lights up her entire face

Aikka’s heart almost stops, he is in way to deep.

And he still doesn’t know who she is.

Things were going well, he was happy

He should have known it wouldn’t last with the Crogs here.

Toros cornered him after his victory over the earth team, slamming him against a wall by his throat, he seemed to be getting angrier every day and today he seemed to just want someone to push around

Deciding that Aikka needed a reminder of ‘his place’

The pressure around of neck was turning the corners of his vision black when he heard a voice call out

“AIKKA!”

The voice sounds close but also far away almost underwater

“LET HIM GO NOW TOROS!”

Toros yells something back but Aikka can’t hear it his vision fades to black and when it comes back he can hear

“I SWAR BY KRAMM AND THE ENTIRE IMPERIUM IF YOU DON’T PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW I WILL CUT YOUR CURSED ARM OFF!”

There’s more yelling and then suddenly the pressures gone and he is dropped violently on to the floor hecan feel hands gently grab him and he hears Toros’s screams of “PATHETIC PEST” and “THIS FARCE WILL BE ENDING NOW!” before he hears heavy footsteps moving away

He’s coughing and gasping for breath vision still fading in and out as his sense slowly come back

He hears random snippets of the voice “Aikka please wake up your going to be ok I promise” “oh Kramm how long has he” “that monster” “don’t worry I’ll tell the Imperuim he wasn’t meant to be doing this” “Aikka I swear he’ll pay for this” “Please open your eyes” “Aikka please”

When he opens his eyes he blinks up into one long yellow eye of the small hooded Crog, his head currently in their lap he instantly pulls himself back on instinct pulling out his knife and holding it between them glaring daggers at the small Crog who hasn’t moved “Stay.away.from.me” he hisses out

The Crog just stares at him “Aikka” a small sound comes out and Aikka sees red

“HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS ME LIKE THAT YOU MONSTER” somewhere in his mind he registers how utterly awful an idea this is, this Crog could kill him, his planet, his family everything but right now he has reached his limit “AFTER ALL YOU HAVE DONE, THREANING MY PLANET MY FAMLY, FORCING YOUR RULE ON US, YOUR ALL MONSTERS ALL EVIL JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME”

His breathing heavily and shaking in rage

The Crog just stares unmoving frozen, there is silence around them

He hears a chocked sob and blinks realising it came from the Crog, he just watches in utter confusion as the Crog stands up “…I understand I I’m sorry”

He feels his jaw drop, did the Crog just apologise?

Before he can react the Crog is gone red cape fluttering behind them

Aikka doesn’t move for a long time

Somewhere in his mind he feels like he’s missing something

He catches a glimpse of Vea the following days, see’s her near the pilot Rush looking utterly distraught, when he tries to approach her she gose deathly pale and runs from him.

He can’t find her when he looks for her

He also doesn’t see the Crog pilot.

At least not to be able to talk to them

In the race against Rush Toros is the one racing he walks in smugly with an air of superiority, he taunts the poor man again the invasion

He races brutally and the Rush is carted to hospital

After that Aikka sits in the stands and realises the other Crog pilot damaged ships yes, like the earth teams, but never once caused any casualties at all.

Their a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach

He feels as if he’s missing something

That missing piece slides into place in the rematch against the earth and crog teams

The earth pilot is injured after an incident unable to fly, the Crogs are set to win by default

When the smaller Crog arrives

Toros and the other Crog start all out screaming at each other Toros isn’t meant to be the pilot he went against the Imperium, he refuses to step down

The smaller Crog challenges him to a rac Toros accepts he shoves his blade in to the ground, the arena goes silent

They’ve heard about Crogs trial by combat, Toros just made this one

The loser will die

The judges say they can’t allow an unscheduled race to go on but look worried of course, if the challenge can’t be completed by one they will lose by default, the small Crog will die

The small Crog say they’ll fly for the earth team

When the judges attempt to protest

They pull down the bottom half of their face, a mask, and remove what is not their eyes but a visor.

Aikka stares down at Vea as everything clocks into place

He feels his heart hammering in his chest

‘oh no’

#Oban Star Racers #eva is adopted by crogs #crog eva au #prince Aikka #Eva x aikka #molly x aikka #mokka #toros #eva wei #oban eva #Fic #ficlet #pining aikka #bamf eva #toros is a dick #Aikka see's Eva yeet someone out a window and is instantly in love

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pb1138 · 6 years ago

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A Reunion, Ch3

Chapter 3 of my Hawke x Varric fic. Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

“That bastard. I’m going to kill him.” Hawke seethed with anger as she read over the will, and Varric cast Fenris a furtive glance.

“What does it say?” Ah, Carver. Ever the genius.

She clenched the paper in her hands and ground her teeth as she stood. “Mother got it all. Every single copper. And Gamlen spent it all.”

Carver shrugged. “And? What are you getting so worked up about?”

Fenris took a step back, eyes going wide. A line had been crossed, and everyone except Carver knew it.

Her voice was eerily calm as she spoke, but each word came with more venom than the last. “And? Oh, and nothing, I suppose. A family fortune, wasted in the span of 20 years. That’s nothing to get upset about, you’re quite right. Nevermind that the reason we just wasted an entire year of our lives in indentured servitude because of Gamlen’s incompetence. The estate and the money meant to provide us security in this rathole of a city, who needs it? Nevermind we live in a three room hovel, sharing a triple-decker bunkbed with our mother. I quite enjoy listening to her night terrors, don’t you? Nevermind our mother has nothing left of her parents or her life before us. So, no, Carver. You’re quite right.” An eerie and sarcastic grin spread across her face. “There’s nothing here to get worked up about. Nothing at all.”

By some miracle, Carver seemed to recognize that if he were to speak now, it would be disastrous, so instead he just looked away. Hawke ground her teeth some more as she cast the will one more look-over. Shaking her head, she scoffed and stuffed the paper into her sack. “Let’s just go. Mother will want to see this.”

Xxx

“…I’m just saying, blood’s blood and all but you are taking advantage of my hospitality. It’s only fair if you make something of a…monthly contribution.”

Hawke was positively vibrating with anger as she opened the door to Gamlen’s hovel. Varric reached over to put his arm in front of Fenris to prevent him from following the humans inside, which the elf seemed to agree was a bad idea. Instead, the two men leaned against the wall on either side of the door, listening intently.

“You sold my children into servitude! Now you’re asking me to pay rent?” Varric smirked slightly. It wasn’t difficult to see where Hawke got her fire from. Leandra may be a small woman, but Andraste’s tits if she weren’t a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be.

“Uh. Maybe just put something towards food?” Maker’s breath, Gamlen was pathetic. Simpering and weak, backing down from the challenge as always. Varric felt deeply for Hawke having to put up with his shit for so long.

Hawke’s voice carried through, menacing and fierce. “We found the will.”

Carver butted in, his tone sounding as though he had been angered by the discovery all along. “Grandfather left everything to Mother and us. I guess he had some sense after all. See for yourself.”

Leandra read a few lines from the will and trailed off, as though accusing Gamlen of his crime.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re the one who ran away, Leandra!” Varric’s eyebrows shot up, and he cast Fenris an incredulous look, mouth slightly agape. Fenris seemed equally surprised, and the two of them leaned in further to better hear. Gamlen went off on a rant, the standard younger-sibling tripe that Carver often used against Hawke. The air around them was getting colder, indicating the depth of anger Belladonna was feeling. He trailed off with a simpering, “How long was I supposed to wait?”

They both waited on bated breath. “You’ll spend the rest of your life paying my mother back for everything you stole.” It wasn’t a request.

“Andraste’s ass I will!” Varric half expected Gamlen to be tossed through the door onto his ass. It’s not as though he didn’t deserve it. Instead, Leandra surprised them all, absolving him of basically all responsibility. After all that, Gamlen was off the hook.

After a long moment, Hawke threw the door open and stalked through, small sparks of electricity dancing around her clenched fists. She didn’t wait for her friends to follow her as she prowled away. Fenris gaped at Varric for a moment, but the two of them went running after her. Hawke maneuvered her way through the streets, straight to the Hanged Man. Once inside, she bee-lined straight for the bar where she reached over and took an entire serving jug of ale from below the bar. Taking a giant swig from it, she stormed her way up to Varric’s quarters. The two men followed her inside, a little breathless from the chase, and Fenris followed her obligingly. Varric paused just long enough to slip over to Corff and pass him a small bag of coins in payment.

“The nerve! I mean really? He spends it all, every single copper given to her from my grandparents, and then he has the audacity to try to extort more from my poor mother?” She scoffed, pacing around the length of the room, gesticulating wildly with sparking hands as she ranted. Varric and Fenris took seats at the table, watching as she let the steam out. After a good long half hour, she slumped down in a chair and took another long swig of the ale. “I just. I can’t believe him. Nor Mother, for letting him off like that. If it were up to me…” She trailed off, pursing her lips and clenching a fist in agitation before taking another swig from the jug. Neither of her companions knew what to say, so instead they settled for letting her catch her breath. She let out a sigh and smiled weakly at them. “I’m sorry, guys. I don’t mean to burden you with my shit.”

Varric chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. “Hey, what’s a night with Hawke without a little drama?”

The three of them shared a laugh and began talking again. Before long, Isabela and Anders made their way to the table to share in Varric’s generous purse and listen to each other’s’ tales over a few rounds of Wicked Grace. They were enthralled by one of Isabela’s exploits on the high seas when there was a knock at the door. Hawke looked up and waved, a big, drunken grin plastered on her face. “Hello, Lord Carver,” she called.

He sat down across from her, but Varric could see he wasn’t having it. “We’re still a long way from cowing templars with our titles, Sister.”

Hawke’s teasing expression faded into something Varric could only describe as “annoyed.” Eyes narrowing, she lowered her mug, but he could see how hard she was working to keep her expression calm and level. Despite the near-success of not showing her emotions on her face, her words came with more venom than he was sure she’d anticipated. “We took a big step with this. You should respect it.”

“Right, right, the glorious Amells, a noble lineage dating to the third blight. You know what that means. 700 years of people sitting around saying, ‘Wow, look how great we used to be!’ Mother didn’t even want that life back until we got dumped here. And you only care because we’re under templar scrutiny.”

The conversation around the table fell silent. Varric’s eyes went wide, and he could practically feel the anger rolling off of Hawke. A few of the others seemed uncomfortable by the growing tension, not without reason. Fenris and Isabela shared a nervous glance. “The second child act is getting pretty stale, Brother.”

Carver scoffed, the hostility in his own voice rising above his sister’s. “Try it from this side, always running after you or taking care of Mother while you mark your territory.”

Isabela looked as if she were going to say something in Hawke’s defense, but the mage put her hand up to silence her, and the Rivaini shrunk back in her chair. Her jaw twitched before she growled in a menacing tone, “That’s enough, Brother.”

Carver is many things. Strong, brave even, occasionally funny. But smart? Maker’s breath, Varric thought he could count on one hand the number of functioning synapses left in that moron’s brain. Too many blows to the head, he imagined, and it showed when that idiot kept going. “Even back home, what could I be? The lone blade in a house of mages? If I excelled, it would’ve brought too much attention.” He narrowed his eyes. “That was a waste, huh? Could’ve found my fortune if Bethany was going to die on your watch anyway.”

Varric grit his teeth and clenched his fists, the desire to pummel the fool almost too strong to ignore. That was the lowest of blows, even by Kirkwall standards.

Nobody around the table moved for what felt like an eternity, almost too afraid to breathe. They waited until Belladonna spoke, her voice icy hard, sending shivers up Varric’s spine. The air in the room had dropped several degrees, as it had at Gamlen’s house, her anger too strong to control. “You will not use her against me like that. She deserves better.”

“Then you should have given better!” He was on his feet now, glaring her down.

She slammed her sparking fists on the table, rising to meet his glare. “I gave everything! Question me, Mother, yourself, but not that!” A single angry tear slipped down her cheek before she pushed away from the table, nearly spilling a few mugs. She turned and stalked towards the door, growling out a simple, “Good talk.”

“Sister.” She froze at the door but didn’t turn to look at him, the air around her thick with unshed magic. “I feel… I don’t know. It’s like Mother, taking everything out on us. She was just scared. I don’t have a place in the life she is trying to bring back. I’m here if you need me, but I must find my own way.”

Varric heard the small tsk as she sucked on her teeth, probably fighting back some retort. After a short moment, she left, and Carver sat down. Everyone was silent for a long time, and Varric glared at the younger Hawke. Carver seemed to have forgotten they were present because when he remembered they were there, he cringed and tried to direct his attention to his goblet. Noticing Varric’s angry gaze, he scoffed. “What?”

Varric shook his head and pushed away from the table. As he rounded Carver on his way out the door, he let out a small, “You’re a real piece of work kid.” Behind him, he could hear their friends saying similar things, but he didn’t think they were following him.

It wasn’t hard to find her. There were only a handful of places she went in the city, and at this hour, there were only two or three of those she would go without backup. He found her after about an hour, sitting on the stone steps of one of the docks. She’d rolled her pants up and was sitting with her feet in the water. Or ice, as it were. She didn’t even seem to realize she’d frozen it as she stared unblinking at the Gallows.

He cleared his throat as if to announce himself, but she didn’t turn. After a moment, he took his own boots off and joined her on the step, albeit a few feet away where the water was still warm. The moon hung low and large over the peak of the mountain, encasing the area in a soft pale glow that seemed to turn her eyes to stone. He looked up at the looming towers then back at her. “You know, brooding is more the elf’s thing.”

A soft smile tilted the corner of her mouth up, making him grin in response. She glanced at him then, then frowned as if realizing just how far away he was sat. With a start, she looked down at the ice around her legs and cursed beneath her breath. She glanced around them, checking they were alone. With a wave of her hand, the ice melted into steaming water, and he scooted closer so that their arms were nearly touching. They sat there for a while, the waves lapping against the steps rhythmically, the moon glittering against the water. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been crying. “She would’ve hated it here.”

Varric turned his head to look at her. “Bethany?”

She nodded softly. “Too many templars, too much crime, not enough grass. She would’ve liked to have heard our grandparents didn’t hate us after all but…” She sighed. “I don’t think she would’ve been happy here, at all. I don’t even know if I’ll be happy here. It’s not as though this life were everything I’d dreamed as a kid.”

Varric turned back to watch the water, mulling over what to say. “It must be difficult, things ending up the way they have.”

“It certainly hasn’t been easy on my liver, no.” She chuckled once. “Bethany would have many things to say about that, as well.”

“You’ve never really talked about her before.” Most everything he knew about the girl came from Carver. Belladonna avoided the subject like the plague, and Varric hoped he wasn’t pushing any boundaries by inquiring about her now.

Belladonna chuckled once, softly. “I haven’t, have I?” She dragged her foot through the water, a slow but intentional stream of electricity following her, sending a blue glow up their legs. “She was…” She struggled to find the words. “She was my best friend. It used to feel like us against the world, featuring Carver the Asshole.” She smiled sadly at a memory before her voice lowered to nearly a whisper, filled with lamentations and regret. “Our father was an apostate, as I’m sure you know. Ran away with our mother. When they had me, I’m told he was over the moon. Didn’t last long, though.”

“How do you mean?” How could anyone not be over the moon about this woman?

With a sigh, “Our father had been in a Circle most of his life, namely this one. So, he’d prayed and prayed and prayed that his children wouldn’t become mages, that they’d be ‘normal’ and be able to… I don’t know. Have lives? Get married? Have little non-mage children? Shit like that.” Her expression became overcast as she lowered her face. “But I remember. My first spell. I was young, really young. Four or five, I think. We were at the dinner table, and I didn’t want to eat my squash. So I electrocuted it, blew it up. And my father… the look on his face.” She scowled, sitting up straighter, turning away from him. “He was… terrified. Angry. Confused. I don’t even have proper words for it. It was like all his hope for this world just… disappeared before him. He started my ‘lessons’ that day.” She emphasized the word “lessons” with air quotations. “Namely, we focused on how to hide my magic and how to channel it so I didn’t blow myself or the house up. He wasn’t teaching me how to be a powerful mage. He was teaching me how to evade detection, to be ashamed of my powers.” Her voice had begun to crack a little as the memories flooded back. “Then Carver and Bethany came along. He had such hope for them. Maybe two of his children would be normal, would have a shot at a good life. Then, when Bethany was five, Father cut his hand on a piece of farm equipment. Bethany, ever the sweetheart, kissed it, and it healed, and I remember his face so clearly. He wasn’t afraid, wasn’t angry. He was…almost proud.” She clenched her fists where she held them against her arms. “She was brought into our lessons and they changed, drastically. It wasn’t how to hide anymore, it was how to do useful magic, learning theories and histories. Offensive spells, defensive spells, healing spells. Nothing I’d ever spent time learning before. It stopped being so much about the Templars and how to avoid them and more along the lines of how to be a good mage. And she was. A good mage, I mean. A good woman.”

Varric couldn’t help but reach over and put his gloved hand on her arm, giving her a soft look. “That must have been difficult.”

She turned her head to look at her hand on his and smiled faintly. “I resented her at first. I was Father’s mistake, but she was his greatest treasure. It took me a long time to realize he was just dealing with his shitty situation as best he could, trying to keep his girls alive. She was about 10 when we started being good friends. We took to studying together, sharing our thoughts together, going to town together without Father.” She laughed, remembering something. “There was one time, we were going to the bakery. It was all three of us kids, and I was distracted. A Templar had come ‘round the corner, but hadn’t seen us yet, so Bethany pushed Carver into him and tackled me into a bale of hay. That idiot spent the next 15 minutes talking to that poor Templar about The Order and Templar training so Bethany and I could slip away.” She wiped her eyes hard, one hand still under his on her arm. “She loved all of us so dearly. It nearly broke her when Father died, she just wandered around for days in a fog.” After a minute, she took in a shaky breath. “She used to tell me that she wanted to be a part of the Amell family, that we should be nobility, safe in our high castles surrounded by our money and our loving grandparents, a big, happy family. If she’d seen this shit, what we’d been reduced to because of Gamlen…” She shook her head, an angry smile on her face. “I don’t even think there are words for how angry she would’ve been.”

Varric regarded her a moment. The loss was evident in her voice, in her face. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of it. “It sounds as though you cared for her a great deal.”

Nodding, she moved so she was standing and stepped a few steps deeper into the water, letting her fingers drag along the surface. “More than I’ve ever cared for anyone, if I’m honest. When she died…” Her fists clenched by her sides, and she turned her face away from him. “Mother said it was my fault. Carver says it was my fault.” She took in a shuddering breath. “And maybe it was.”

“No!” Varric jumped to his feet and reached for her hand, a fire in his eyes. “You can’t ever think that!”

She scoffed. “I was the one who left Mother’s side. If I’d been there to help Bethany, she wouldn’t have…” Her voice broke and tears began to fall from her eyes. “I wasn’t strong enough, quick enough to save her. I did everything I could and still…”

A fury burst within his chest, not at her but at everyone else in her life who had ever allowed her to feel this way. Belladonna Hawke had only ever been kind and generous, giving her all to those she cared about. How could someone bring her to this? He took a few steps down and reached for her arm. She turned to look at him, the moonlight making her eyes glow like magelight, and his heart shattered at the emotion in them. “You did everything you could have. Nothing you have ever done has ever given me any doubt that you didn’t do everything in your power to save your sister, and I’m sure she knows that, too. Carver is an unmitigated ass.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes seeming to search his for something though he wasn’t sure what. After a few seconds, she nodded weakly and turned into him, taking him in her arms. From their placement on the steps, he was almost as tall as her, and he wound his arms around her waist. Her head went to his shoulder, turned away from his face. “Thank you, Varric.” Her voice was barely audible over the sound of the water, but he nodded none the same.

They stood there for a long second, but not nearly long enough, though neither would admit it. When they parted, she looked down at him with a soft smile before she cleared her throat. “Well. We’d better get to bed. Big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

The Deep Roads. Right. Varric smiled in return and nodded towards the city. “Let’s get goin’ then.”

He walked her to her door, a gentleman if ever there were one. A small part of him hoped she might kiss him again, as she had the last time he escorted her home in the wee hours. Not tonight, though. At the door, she bid him a soft spoken, “Good night,” and slipped inside with a smile.

He waited at the door until he heard Oberyn, her mabari, settle back down from his excitement at his master’s return. The road back to the Hanged Man isn’t a long one by any means, but Varric’s legs felt tired as if pulling iron chains behind him that grew heavier with every step.

Every step away from her.

Xxx

The next day was it, the big day. Belladonna was at his door bright and painfully early which in itself told him she hadn’t slept. In all the time he’d known her, she’d never been voluntarily up before the sun hung high overhead. She hadn’t come into his room, but she knocked hard against his doorframe and called into the darkness, “Rise and shine gorgeous!” a cacophony of hungover groans and cursing from fellow patrons following her words like an echo in the mountains.

He himself groaned. “It’s too early, Hawke,” he mumbled into his pillow.

She chuckled, and the sound put a sleepy smile on his face. “Tough, we’ve got to get a move on if we want to set out by midday.” With a sudden flurry of bright sparks in the dark, the candles all around his room burst to light, blinding him as if from the sun, and he cried out.

“Damned magic,” he growled, shoving his head under his pillow. She laughed again, but her footsteps began receding, and he knew she was probably on her way to assert her painfully sunny disposition on Fenris, who was also coming. Varric sighed heavily and contemplated the importance of the mission. Was wealth and fame really worth the agony of being up this early? Grumbling, he heaved himself out of bed and set about getting ready. Maybe not for him, but for her it was. And damned if he wasn’t going to do this for her.

The three of them met up near the Chantry, bags hanging off all shoulders. Fenris looked disgustingly peaceful and well rested this morning, particularly next to Hawke. Her eyes were rimmed with blackish circles from her lack of sleep, her irises even seeming a little dark. Her hair was clean but hadn’t been brushed since her bath so it hung about her shoulders in messy curls. She hadn’t even put makeup on this morning, the strongest indicator that she’d not slept. Vaguely, Varric wondered if she would even be alert enough to do this.

“Where is your brother, Hawke?” Fenris looked expectantly at their leader.

She rubbed her face and shrugged. “I don’t know. I told him to get up before I left, told him where we’d be.”

Varric quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure he got up?”

She scoffed. “I would hope so.” Beaming, she jerked her chin up. “I threw a bucket of water on him.”

The three of them shared a laugh and waited some more. It was nearly an hour later, and Hawke was getting pissed, but finally he came stumbling around the corner, obviously hungover. He stalked over to them and dropped his sacks, glowering at them all. “Sorry I’m late. I had to dry my clothes after someone threw water at me.”

Belladonna snorted. “Maybe don’t be such an asshole all the time and I wouldn’t want to. But enough. Let’s get a move on.”

The three of them walked together into the Merchants’ Guild square. Bartrand was stood at the feet of one of the paragon statues, talking to one of his lackies. Hawke and Varric nodded at each other and left their bags with Fenris and Carver before walking over to him. Varric smooth-talked him into agreeing to let them join the quest, much to Hawke’s delight.

A few minutes later, Bartrand was in the middle of making his grand speech about virginal caves and deflowerings when he trailed off and asked who had brought “the old woman.” Belladonna sighed heavily, running her hand through her hair before joining everyone to look at the Amell. “Maker’s breath,” she whispered.

Leandra smiled apologetically at the dwarf. “My apologies, ser dwarf. I need to speak to my children.”

Carver, fuming, joined Hawke at their mother’s side. “Mother, no. We talked about how important this is.”

“I just want to know one thing—Are you planning on taking Carver with you?” Leandra’s voice was full of worry.

Hawke turned to regard her brother. The anger he held in his stance hadn’t dissipated, and she sighed. “I can’t leave Carver behind. I need him.”

Carver also softened, lowering his shoulders. “I’m going. It will be fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Leandra’s voice was almost cracking as she held back tears. “You can’t both go. What if something were to happen to you? You,” she turned to Hawke, “I understand wanting to do this. But leave your brother here, I beg you.”

“I said I’m going. Besides, if we’re so bloody afraid of Templars (Belladonna sighed,) I should go and she should hide.”

Bartrand, ever the pragmatist, walked over. “Well you’re not gonna be able to take everyone anyhow. You’ll need to decide.”

“It’s Fenris and Carver, like I’d planned.” She smiled at Fenris and Varric. “I need my boys with me.”

Leandra ran over. “Carver, I beg you. Don’t go. Don’t do this!” She was nearly crying now.

He smiled at her and put his hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about me so. I can take care of myself. You’ll see.”

Leandra said no more, leaving them then. Bartrand hurried them along to gather their things, but they paused long enough to say goodbye to their friends who had gathered in the square. Belladonna made sure to hug each of them, kissing both Anders and Isabela on the cheek. She told Aveline to take care of everyone, “especially Merrill,” and hugged the stoic woman a second time, tears in both their eyes.

They set out moments later, eyes alight with the anticipation of the future.

If only they knew what lay ahead, maybe it would’ve been fear, worry, trepidation in their eyes instead.

Xxx

The fires in the Great Hall had begun to die with the late hour. The flickering light from the torch mounted on the wall across from Belladonna cast a darkness over her face. Clearing her throat, she stood from the table and gave Varric a soft smile. “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

He looked up at her and returned her smile with a gentility that made Cassandra blush. Taking her hand in his, he brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’ll be there shortly,” he whispered.

She leaned down and kissed his head before sauntering off, casting Cassandra a wary glance as she did.

Cassandra and Varric watched her go. After she disappeared through a door, Cassandra set her palm in her hand. “I understand now why you lied.”

Varric turned back to her, his eyes hardened. “Do you now?”

She looked back at the door the Champion had passed through. “You love her, that much is obvious. You were protecting her. From me, the Chantry, all of it. In your shoes, I might have done the same.”

Varric regarded her a moment before nodding. “You’re not mad then, I take it?”

She had to consider it a moment. “I am conflicted. If you had given her to us, things might be quite different. Though that is not necessarily a good thing, I suppose.” She sighed. “Things are how they are. I must accept it and move on.”

Varric stood with a nod. “I’m glad you see it my way, Seeker. If you’ll excuse me, it’s late, and I have a beautiful woman in my bed.”

She blushed furiously but nodded. “Would you tell me the rest of the story later?”

He smiled with an affection that surprised her. “Of course, Seeker. Good night.”

She watched him go, and as the door shut with a quietly echoing thud, she sighed, “Good night, Varric.”

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raptorginger · 6 years ago

Text

Netherfield Is Let at Last: Chapter 7 - The Secret Life of Daydreams

mood board by the wonderful @prinecssleia

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

The first thing Rey did when she got home a few days later was shove Ben’s sweater as deep into the corner of her closet as she could. However, with the doldrums of fall and the bone chilling cold of winter fast approaching, the damn thing kept creeping its way back out. Rey swore the thing could move on its own.

In her quiet moments, she replayed their last encounter over and over in her mind, turning over every word, every movement, around and around. There was no doubt in Rey’s mind that Ben did not agree with Snoke as to the quality of her character. Angry Rey had thought that in a moment of hazy rage. Ben was an ass but not a monster. But, he had decried and derided her chosen form of expression, more than once and quite passionately. It was hard for Rey not to take that personally. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, of course, Rey reasoned. But he could have been nicer about it. Rey didn’t think she could be in a relationship with someone who looked down on what she did so vehemently. It wasn’t such a large leap to go from not respecting what she did to not respecting her. Even if that kiss was probably the most passionate she’d ever had. Don’t go there, Rey told herself.

In her waking hours, she never did. But when she slept…

Rey is running through the woods. It’s some indefinable time in the past. Maybe a past that never was. The trees are tall and dark. Jagged looking. The air is chilled and hazy, the ground cold and damp. The skirts of her dress rustle and flow as she runs, the sharp wind blowing them hither and yon. She can hear the clank and shouts of the armored men behind her. They are some faceless mass chasing her on the orders of a fearsome man. He reminds her of Snoke. He’s more frail, but somehow yet more cruel as he commands them “Forward! Forward!”. She is the witch that lives in these woods, and they mean to kill her for what she’s done.

A massive black furred wolf leaps out between her and the knights, snarling and frothing in rage. Rey knows it’s him - Ben. The were-touched have been hunted by these men for years, but hypocrites that they are, they kept him alive because he was strong. They are the ones that tried to make him into a monster, and he will make them pay. She knows this; he has shown her. He slays them all with tooth and claw as she keeps running. She rescued him, set him free in her woods. Loved him. For this, they would kill her. He would not allow it.

Rey passes over a line of stone into a clearing. It’s reach is wide and protected by her warding magicks. The air is calmer, warmer here. Her woods is quiet except for a faint ‘chuff’ sound at the edge of the clearing. Rey turns, looking with wide eyes as the black wolf steps from the edge of the clearing, its gait graceful and almost timid. She looks away as the wolf shifts, unable to bear the sight of the twisting limbs and tearing flesh. When she looks up again, Ben stands before her. His human skin is pale, scattered with scars and speckles. A whole cosmos written on his skin. His hair is deepest black, like the wolf’s fur. His eyes, a warm deep amber, are always the same. He is naked before her, completely vulnerable to her. Only for her.

He approaches the line of stone but cannot cross. Not unless she allows it. His warm eyes meet hers, asking a silent question. She nods, her fingers twisting together. He steps over the line of stone and takes her into his arms. He is warm, so warm, like the heat in her belly. He takes her face between his large hands and kisses her deeply. Rey rests her hands on his broad chest, the fingers of her left hand lightly tracing the vicious scar that runs down the right side of his body. She returns his kiss shyly at first, then boldly, almost demanding, tracing his lower lip with her tongue. He growls with pleasure, pulling her dress from her body so she’s as exposed as he is.

As he lays her down on the soft grass and small flowers, his hands simultaneously everywhere and in the one spot Rey needs them most, he purrs lowly against the delicate skin of her temple, “Everything I am is yours.”

As he rakes his teeth down her neck to her shoulder, his throbbing hardness entering her slick heat in one hard thrust, “And everything you are, is mine.”

Rey woke with a start and a gasp, having fallen asleep on her couch wrapped in Ben’s sweater. Again. She’d had the dream. Again. She felt overheated, her core throbbing with want. She was almost sick with it. She groaned and got up, staggering to her kitchen to make some tea. She sat at her small table as the kettle boiled, resting her forehead against her curled fingers, her eyes closed. She tried to force her breathing into a deep, even pattern. Opening her eyes, she saw the email from Poe she’d printed off. While she hadn’t seen or talked to Ben in weeks, she couldn’t say the same for Snoke, unfortunately. The cantankerous old codger had wanted to have her charged with assault for slapping him.

“Probably thinks it’ll help him save face in front of 200 students,” Rey grumbled when she called Finn to ask for his help about a week after she’d gotten home.

She could almost picture Finn’s sympathetic face as he listened to her ranting. “Let me talk to Poe. I think he knows Snoke’s lawyer. Maybe he can get him to back off,” he’d offered. “And if he can’t, Poe’ll represent you, no charge.”

“Thanks, Finn,” Rey replied gratefully. She was sure her publisher would have no problem footing the bill, and they probably had their own lawyers at the ready anyway, but she appreciated Finn’s words.

As it turned out, Poe had been able to convince Snoke’s lawyer to back off. In fact, Wildemount had gotten wind of the whole situation somehow, according to Poe who heard it from Snoke’s lawyer over a Manhattan or two. The Board of Regents began to quietly investigate Snoke and his time as the head of the English Language and Literature Department. Rey was shocked to discover that contrary to the popular myth, there are certain things that can remove a tenured professor, fostering a hostile work environment along with a long list of complaints of harassment, discrimination, and full on assault being the most egregious examples. It didn’t surprise Rey that the University’s investigators were able to compile a veritable mountain of evidence against Snoke. It did surprise her, pleasantly, that they actually did something. Snoke was summarily dismissed, his classes assigned to other professors.

Poe’s email was simply an official notice that no file was opened, all charges, if they could even be called such, had been dropped. Rey sighed. She wondered how Ben was doing, in spite of her promise to herself that she would try to think about him as little as possible.

The wind howled outside the kitchen window as the kettle whistled. Dried dead leaves rustled and scratched at the glass, their skritching and hissing unnerving. Rey crossed her arms over her chest, holding Ben’s sweater closer to her body as she went to the stove and poured the steaming water into a mug, the tag of the tea bag fluttering like a butterfly’s wings in a draft. While her tea steeped, she braved the dark and dashed out to her mailbox, realizing she hadn’t checked it in a few days. She hardly received anything these days, save for a handful of junk mailers, but she always hoped to be surprised. She grabbed the small pile that had accumulated and dashed back to her warm home, the light from the living room a guiding beacon in the dark.

As she flipped through the stack, junk as usual, a confused look crossed her face when she came upon a thick envelope, letter sized. The paper was thick and creamy, the penmanship impeccable. Flipping it over, she saw a blood red wax seal first, the stylized ‘S’ unmistakeable. Just above the envelope’s point was written neatly ‘Professor Benjamin Solo’ and Ben’s address in Coruscant. Rey had to laugh, just a little, at the pretentiousness of it.

Breaking the seal and opening the envelope, a faint hint of Ben’s scent floated up to her nose, and Rey let out an involuntary humming sound. Inside was more of the luxurious paper and beautiful closely lettered but flowing handwriting, a letter addressed to her.

Dear Rey:

I figured if anyone would appreciate an apology in the form of a letter, it would be you. I’m better at writing than talking anyway. It’s harder for my temper and feelings to get in the way.

There are a large number of offenses for which I need to beg your forgiveness. To list them in their entirety would, I’m afraid, result in the fracture of the unfortunate postal carrier’s arm due to the large number of pages required. So let me say in brief here, I’m truly sorry for any offense and hurt I have caused you. I hope that one day, you will allow me to apologize in person, so that I may express the deep fathoms of my regret. You said once that I could be nicer about expressing my opinion. I want you to know that I AM trying. Coming from a long line of bull-headed individuals known, perhaps infamously, for their stubbornness, it is...challenging. But I am trying. With Snoke gone, thank you for that by the way, it’s easier around the office to express dissenting or even simply different opinions. That man ran that department like his own personal...cult I guess. Now that he’s gone, it’s like some kind of fog has been lifted from all our eyes. Did you know there’s a guy here by the name of Dopheld Mitaka? He’s just about the nicest person you’ll ever meet. He loves your books and has gifted me with the first one. I’ll admit, I’m scared to read it. You’ll prove all my opinions wrong, and then what kind of stuck up academic will I be?

I also wanted to assure you of the sincerity of my feelings in regards to my actions on the last day I saw you, after your talk, I mean. When I kissed you. When I held you. Do you dream about me? Because I cry out for you. I wasn’t kidding when I said I could hardly breathe without you. I see your sparkling eyes and your dancing freckles everytime I close my eyes to sleep, and I smile.

I miss you.

-Ben

Rey wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, surprised to feel a wetness there. Carrying her tea up to bed, she read Ben’s letter over and over. When she laid her head down, for once, she allowed herself to simply feel what she felt for him, and she wasn’t surprised when she cried out for him too. His name was a sigh on her lips as she drifted off to sleep that night.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfiction #rey #ben solo #ben solo x rey #pride and prejudice feels #modern au #ben writes a letter!

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svteenaus · 7 years ago

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'Fuck You' Flowers | Jihoon

AN: This was supposed to be out on his birthday but it took a little longer than expected — hope you enjoy it (^^) Also I don't know anything about what it's like to be a florist so I might have got some things wrong with that sorry (;^^) I'll get some requests done soon! (b^^)b --- Today was quiet as usual. You worked in a small flower shop that rarely had any customers so you just spent the majority of your shift aimlessly scrolling through your phone or reading a book. It got boring at times, but there was something about being amongst the array of different flowers, each giving off their own feel and vibrant colours, that made the long hours of nothing worthwhile. "How do I passive aggressively say 'fuck you' with flowers?" You jump at the sound of someone slamming their hand into the counter, your hands automatically snapping your book shut. A man around your age with black hair and a glare cutting right through you stood on the other side of the counter, a £20 note scrunched up in his hand. "Oh - yeah - sure." You were still taken back by his sudden appearance as you were too engrossed in your book to hear him enter and along with him requesting flowers meaning 'fuck you,' your needed a minute to gather your thoughts. Most people requested cuter things like 'I miss you' or "I love you,' but those started to seem quite simple and generic after you had done the such similar bouquets over and over, so this was a nice change. "I guess I could do orange lilies and some geraniums. That'd be hatred and stupidity," you muttered to yourself, looking around the room for inspiration."Ooh! Some yellow carnations some foxglove and some meadowsweet - ok, I've got it." You clapped your hands together before hopping out from behind the counter to find the needed flowers. The whole time, the man stood silently, tapping his fingers against his leg impatiently. You could almost see the steam coming from his ears, like a kettle that was just about to start ringing. You wondered what someone had done to get the man so angry. "What's your name, Sir?" You asked, trying to speak as formally as possible, he was a customer after all, but you also didn't want to tip him over the edge and have him lash out at you. Even though he was quite small, you knew you wouldn't stand much chance against him. "Jihoon." He replied coldly, but after hearing the harshness in his voice, his face immediately softened. "Sorry, I'm just really mad right now," he apologised, his voice much gentler now, and his hand no longer tapping against his leg. "It's ok," you reassured him with a smile. "Who are the flowers for? If you don't mind me asking." The words had slipped out of your mouth before you could fully comprehend what you were saying. It was something that you usually asked your customers, but this didn't feel like the same kind of situation. "Uh - you don't have to answer that." You added awkwardly. "They're for my soon to be ex," he spat, the bitterness returning to his voice but not just as strong. Jihoon wasn't really one to openly talk about his feelings, preferring to write them into a song, but now he had the urge to just spill everything to someone he has never met before. "Oh, I'm sorry. They must be a bitch." "Yeah," he replied. "Caught them cheating." You could tell he was restraining himself from telling you anymore. "You can tell me if you want - you don't have to hold back." --- Half an hour later you had all the flowers for Jihoon's bouquet ready and were just getting started on arranging the flowers. Jihoon had told you all about what had happened with him and his girlfriend. They were supposed to be celebrating their anniversary today, but he found out she was cheating on him thanks to his friend who was at the same party she was. "So how are you gonna confront her?" you asked, taking an orange lily and gently rolling the stem between your fingers. "Because it's not likely she'll understand the flowers." "I don't know," Jihoon said, his face scrunched up in concentration as he rattled his brain for any ideas. "Oh! I know!" you exclaimed after you had joined him thinking for around thirty seconds. "You've got her a present or something, right?" "I guess?" "Did it come in a box? Like, was it fancy?" "Yeah." You paused for a moment, debating with yourself on whether you'd voice your idea. "No - never mind. It's mean." "No, no, mean is good. I couldn't care less about her feelings anymore," Jihoon urged you to share. "Ok then, if you take the actual present out of the box so she'll think you're giving her some kind of expensive shit, but when she opens it, there's a note that says something like 'you cheating bitch,'" you explained, leaning back on your chair behind the counter. "Yeah, that is kind of mean.. Considering what present I got her," Jihoon muttered, but he still spoke loud enough for you to hear him. "What did you get her?" you curiously asked him to see if it would fit into your plan. "An engagement ring." The gentle smile on your face fell slightly. He must've loved her a lot if he was planing to marry her. Even after he had ranted to you, you still couldn't imagine what he was feeling right now. After all, you had just met. "But I'm still going to do it," he grinned. "It'll have more of an affect, people will be watching." "Ok." You nodded, grinning back at him. "Good luck, Jihoon." --- Jihoon came back to the shop a few hours later to collect his finished bouquet, but this time instead of the oversized cream sweater that he was wearing earlier, Jihoon was dressed in a smart black suit, his tie perfectly straight, not one was thing out of place. You had noticed that he was attractive the first time you saw him, but after seeing him all done up for his date you felt your heart begin to beat faster and faster, heat rushing to your face. "It's beautiful," he had told you when you handed him your finished product. "You really didn't have to put in that much effort." "Thanks," you laughed. "I don't think she'd care that much either way - unless I made them look really shitty. I could if you want though?" "Nah, it's ok." He turned the bouquet over in his hands, admiring the vibrant flowers from many different angles. "Anyway, how much?" "What?" "How much do I owe you? - for the flowers." "You don't owe me anything!" You insisted, stopping Jihoon from taking his wallet out of his pocket. "I can't just take them for free—" "Jihoon, it's fine," you reassured him, gently placing your hand on his arm. "You've been through a lot today, it's the least I can do." "Thanks," he smiled. He paused for a short moment before nodding and continuing, "I better go now. I've left her waiting long enough." And with that he left, stopping only for a moment to wave goodbye to you. --- You hadn't expected to see Jihoon again after that - not today at least - and he probably hasn't been expecting to see you either, but once his date with his now ex-girlfriend had finished, rather successfully if you asked him, but definitely not for the girl, who had still been in shock when he left, he found himself heading in the opposite direction of his apartment and straight towards the small shop you worked in. "Jihoon, how did it go?" you inquired once you saw him enter. You put down the cloth you were using and made your way towards him. "It went well," he nodded. "Thanks - for all of your help." "No problem," you smiled. "It wasn't the best birthday I've had, but you certainly brightened it up" sighed Jihoon, returning your smile. 'Wait. It's his birthday?' you thought to yourself, instinctively covering your mouth. "It's your birthday? You should've said earlier!" you exclaimed. "Well, it wasn't really that important to the conversation," he muttered, but you weren't listening. "One minute!" You quickly untied the small knot on your apron before throwing it across the room, it landing on the counter. "What? Where are you going?" Jihoon questioned as you made your way to the door. "Don't worry Jihoon," you said, turning to face him, using the handle of the door to keep you upright. "I'll be back in one minute, ok?" --- A few minutes later you returned to the small flower shop. Jihoon had moved away from the middle of the room and was now sitting patiently waiting for you on a stool placed against the wall where the first row of flowers come to an end. "Oh, you're back," he greeted, bouncing up from the stool. "What there you doing?" "I was doing... This!" You pulled a white box out of the plastic bag you were carrying. You took the box over to the counter and carefully placed it down. "And that is?" "Your birthday cake!" you exclaimed, happily pulling the lid of the box off. Inside was a small, round chocolate cake. In the corner of the box there was a few candles. You took the candles out of the box and put them on top of the cake. "I'm sure I had a lighter around here somewhere," you mumbled to yourself as you rummaged around in the drawers behind the counter. "You really didn't have to do this," said Jihoon. You popped your head over the counter for a second and saw that he was smiling widely. You returned the smile before continuing your search. "You didn't deserve a birthday like this," you told him, popping back up a few seconds later, proudly holding your newly found lighter. "I just want you to be able to look back on your birthday and smile a bit instead of it being a sad thing," you added as you lit the candles. It took you a few tries, but they were soon flickering to life, helping light up the shop as although the lights were on, the sun, which the shop relied on for the majority of its lighting, was quickly setting outside. "Just you being there is enough for me to look back and smile," Jihoon said, now avoiding your gaze. He took a few steps towards you and the cake before quickly blowing the candles out. "Thank you, (y/n)."

#seventeen #woozi #lee jihoon #seventeen au #seventeen writing #seventeen one shot #Woozi seventeen

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killing-for-candy · 8 years ago

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Different anon here. I used to be heavily involved in the Star Wars Speculation subreddit. I called it quits because the Rey**s are EXTREMELY defensive, to the point of telling some users to find a "safe space" for theories that are not overwhelmingly supported, like ReySky. They remind people that they were completely oppressed at one point, and that now it's their turn to make themselves heard. Every argument against Rey** is disregarded as inferior to theirs, and downvoted to hell. (1/2)

(2/2) What's funny is that some of the most popular Reyl* bloggers are there, sharing their extensive speculations with their sources being completely outside the Star Wars lore. They use the themes of SW, mix 'em up with mythology or Joseph Campbell and boom, Reylo seems to be likely. I have noticed that when they are challenged with FILM analysis (not literature), some backpedal and others remain convinced that Rey and Kylo are the focus of TLJ (but it's Rey and Luke, right?). SmhOh nonny, it sounds like you have been through hell and back with this bullshit. :x Honestly? I started ignoring the Rey/los a long time ago. I mean don’t get me wrong, I get the chuckles whenever I read some crazy logic post and feel the need to laugh it off on my tumblr page or blow off some steam. But I just... There is no way in hell Rey/lo is going to happen. These movies aren’t about to turn into some Nicholas Sparks white-people-almost-kissing romance. There is no proof in the films whatsoever that Rey is in love with Kylo, or vice versa.In my experience with shippers like the Rey/los, this is what I think. I am sorry for this rant, but I have thought about this a lot lately. Here goes with my text-to-world analogy.Back in my day (middle school era) circa 2006/2007, I had a brief affair with Twilight. This was before the movies came out obviously and every girl in my age group that I knew had read them. Of course, I read Twilight and enjoyed it -- as a standalone book, it really isn’t terrible. Very much on the average scale (even back then, I was in eighth grade and it didn’t blow my mind or anything). But I looked forward to future installments and I read New Moon right afterwards.Now, this is where even in my teenage peanut sized brain was able to realize that Jacob was actually the better option for Bella. I would mention that to fellow book readers and they would defend Edward to the death, no matter how much I tried to point out that Bella’s obsession with Edward was unhealthy and Jacob had a lot more morals, withstanding a healthier relationship.It’s... The same bullshit with Reyl/os. You can point out the flaws, they won’t see it. People who are engrossed so deeply in an unhealthy ship refuse to see logic after a while because women and young girls are conditioned to believe that romance/romantic love is always more important than morals and ethics and family and... The list goes on and on. You know what else is funny? Twilight fans were super Team Edward until Taylor Lautner was cast as Jacob. TL is obviously more conventionally attractive than Robert Pattinson, which sort of plays a factor into Star Wars. Most white girls are influenced by internalized racism and don’t find black men attractive, and that is why they are centered on Adam Driver. They really just can’t accept that Rey could possibly -- gasp -- end up with a black man they don’t think is hot...?!?! Regardless, Twilight had a terribly white-washed cast anyway and I doubt that if they had actually cast a Native American for Jacob, fangirls wouldn’t have been so shallow.(John is way more attractive than Adam but ok)Unfortunately, these fangirls who are crazy about Rey/lo really picked the wrong fanbase. Stephenie Meyer, VC Andrews, Nicholas Sparks, nor EL James are not writing this series. Kylo is the villain, Rey is the heroine, and Star Wars’ main plot is always about the Skywalkers. TFA was rooted to the plot of finding Luke, and guess who found him...?Oh, random girl did, who has no family, and inherited his lightsaber...Don’t let the Rey/los get you down. Karma will get them eventually. Once again, sorry for the rant.

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disparais · 8 years ago

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that piece cannot be moved

(aka my nightmarish week back "home”)

24 September:

i want to scream but i can’t because i’m not even the screaming type. how sad is that.

i distinctly recall blowing off a little steam at kt re my mom last night. can’t even recall what it was about now because i keep procrastinating writing this post in its entirety (please don’t blame me both neo and msl are having events hurhur and texting friends is infinitely more appealing than dealing with my crappy life). probably something about how she’s been even more of a control freak than she usually is this past week because she’s out of her mind with stress about my brother’s promos. (he is in really bad shape though he’s all set to fail math so i think i might have to stage an intervention tomorrow.)

today i was stunned when she verbalized the possibility that she had an anxiety/control issue in the car. she foreshadowed this topic on the way out, checking the stove a whole bunch of times (which is highly uncharacteristic of her) and wryly noting how similar her behaviour was to that of OCD patients she’d met. but the true shock came when in the backseat, she casually mentioned that it was probably a manifestation of her anxiety, and admitted that my brother’s prelims are making her antsy as heck (no shit, sherlock).

kt was so positive and encouraging about it. i hope things get better.

(later that day)

today i was incensed. i got back (from a strange dinner date with m s f - this was really uncomfortable, yet familiar. idk i am bothered by this too but more on this in a separate post) and g was telling me about how worried she was about lunch with cl/her emotional reaction/how ready she felt for a confrontation. i was texting g about that, when mom appears and is all like “why aren’t you (doing what you’re supposed to do)” rn.

i can’t calmly narrate this part so i’m just going to script-ify it, bless my auditory memory:

me: f is having some issues so i’m talking her through them (i’m so sorry f if you ever see this - i have to lie about which friends i’m talking to sometimes because dear ol’ judgmental mom has an issue with humans having human issues & she already sees g as a burden)

mom: why are your friends so emo? people will always have problems; no one’s going to remember this conversation in a while anyway

me (indignant): i care that i’m there for them when they need me, and i will remember this conversation, and i’m sure they care that i was there when they needed me. i’d rather be there for my friends than graduate with a fucking mbbs anyway

mom: your friends won’t be friends with you in future if you don’t have an mbbs

me: how dare you presume what my friends will be like??? sure some might change but right now not one of them is like that and i’m sorry you feel this way about friendships ?!?!

mom (with calm certainty): it’s difficult to be friends with someone not from your socioeconomic class. like imagine visiting their big house in bukit timah [and there being this awkwardness because they both know you’re not as well-off]

i was so ANGRY i could feel it in my extremities and all my blood just rushed to my head. it is vital that i get this conversation down on paper because i need to remember that every time i second-guess myself and 心软, i need to force myself to remember that i’m not dealing with someone who cares about my feelings (or, perhaps, anyone’s feelings).

don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love me (in her own warped way). it’s just that she doesn’t respect me as an individual, doesn’t give a flying fuck about my feelings/dreams/me as a person in general, and doesn’t want to admit she’s flawed in any way. (which is why i’m never going to get a sincere apology + repentance from her, and why every time something goes wrong it’s everyone’s fault but her own - tbh this is everyone in the household other than me and rarely my dad UGH what is it with people and their inability to admit/take responsibility for their wrongdoings?)

26 September:

apparently, to this family, i am little more than an investment.

first she had to come argue with me in the damn shower. and then she had to drop bombs like those and now she expects quick healing. goodness. chernobyl is still a wasteland. it’s not as simple as downing a parlyz heal. even appendix cancer surgery pales in comparison. how do we recover from things like these?

we don’t, that’s how.

while sobbing my eyes out in the shower (if i can’t cry silently shit is pretty damn real because i can’t remember the last time i couldn’t suppress my sobs), i can admit that the following possibilities crossed my mind, some with a greater degree of seriousness of intent than others:

applying for a gap semester

transferring to fass and doing my dream job already ahh i got a taste of it again when editing s’ reflection and he said “your writing is damn imba” + “it’s like driving a toyota to servicing and getting a merc[edes] in return” hehe i was deeply pleased. this is something i excel at that effortlessly that i actually enjoy. why God why

离家出走, which brought me to...

...staying in capt permanently (i immediately ruled this out because i bet that woman would show up and bang my doors down since who lets investments run away? that’d make me a ponzi scheme)

legal emancipation (i wondered if i would get access to the admittedly-not-a-lot-of-money in the bank registered under my name), which brought me to...

...半工半读 and/or applying for scholarships/bursaries (a good idea esp when coupled with legal emancipation, methinks)

finality (but no i’ve considered this way too many times and whenever i do the math it’s never going to be worth it. first and foremost there’s the eternal wrath of my Creator to deal with. and i do not live for my family - my life is not theirs to 左右; there are so many beautiful things i live for like close friends and classical music and serendipitous moments and i know there is more ahead for me. my life is a symphony and i have barely finished my first sonata.)

27 September:

for the second time in my life, i caught myself doing the continent thing.

i chose to rant to f, who did tell me what i needed to hear, which was reassuring coming from her since i’m real stressed about us drifting apart. it seems as though s is her primary confidante these days and i’m not benchmarking, i’m really not (i haven’t figured out why since f means so much to me) - it’s just made me wonder if my importance has diminished. f knew to reassure me in terms of how desirable my time/company was (smart) because of how happy i made her (smarter). i think the misstep was telling me that everything would be fine again with family, and pulling out the ohana quote - i have no room in my life for emptily encouraging bs. but i reiterate, i drew much strength from the personal bit. and for that i am deeply grateful.

i’m vaguely sorry for pretending i was fine, but kt already has so much on her plate and i’ve already stretched her bandwidth on monday night so i felt like showing my brokenness to her wouldn’t be the best thing for her.

my gratitude knows no bounds. she effortlessly pulled me out of my (i am lost for words because “bad mood” doesn’t even begin to cut it).

because i was grappling with feelings of unworthiness/commodification, i really just needed to know that i was loved as simply myself, and no one else. not the doctor-to-be, not the daughter, not the comm member, not even the spiritual sister. just me. and she made me feel like i was enough. my mood lifted within like 5-10 minutes of talking to her, and mentioning 凤凰传奇’s most ridiculous songs (completely random on my end) sparked one of our most hilarious conversations to date.

i’m just so much lighter and happier, knowing that someone values me of their own volition.

#rant #family

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