#apologies on the lighting everytime I changed it the black turned brown...

[hejihra]

Nicole Dollanganger Married in Mount Airy cassette tape.

[chazukekani]

SPOILER ALERT 

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today. 

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

-

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

-

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

-

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers 

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

-

The story continues on 27th Feb

[detroitbydark]

Character: Commander Fox x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Secretary!reader finds herself wanting to help her Commander. It's her job. It certainly is not because she's got a foolish crush. The Commander certainly doesn't feel the same...

A/N: Unpopular opinion: I love Fox. Our dear Commander gets far too much hate and not enough fics. I'm going to do my part to correct that. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think and if I should write more.  

------

The datapad has been loaded to the brim-reports, warrants, requisitions, schedules, and  guard rotations- awaiting the Commanders attention. You frown as you review the list you’ve uploaded. It’s hours worth of data the Commander will need to review and sign off on. Your not ready to spring it on him. He needed his rest. Since the incident with the Chancellor and the rogue clone trooper, Fives, he seemed to be getting too little of it. 

He’d stumbled in this morning at 0700 sharp- per his normal but the faint scent of fire-water hung in his wake. He’d been out all night again, too regimented to be late, but slipping in his seeming ability to care for himself.

You’d wanted to ask him how he was feeling, to suss out exactly what he needed from you. Though you’d been his personal secretary for nearly a year you still hadn’t figured out how to read his many moods. 

When you’d begin working  for clone Commander Fox he had been so clear and concise with his expectations. He liked his schedule, thrived from it. He required order and regulation. It was your job to keep his day running smoothly. You’d worked hard. Having proven yourself capable he’d reached a point where he seemed to trust you to know what he needed. 

It was anxiety inducing on the best of days. 

You were proud of his trust in you, privately preening over your ability to know what he wanted before he had to say anything but times like these- the times when he’d say not one word to you for days and arrive each morning like he’d come directly from the cantina, that you wished you had just a little more insight. You didn’t want to disappoint. You wanted him to value you, to know that you were needed and important.

You groan quietly. You were pathetic.Your fingers worry the hem of your uniform skirt. It hadn’t taken you more than a week before you’d begun to harbor a crush on the stoic clone and it had only grown worse the longer you sat at the desk outside his office.

This morning you’d let him walk by with only a soft, barely-there greeting slipping past your lips. Commander Fox had given even less in return, merely nodding silently as he’d entered his office. Your shoulders had slumped as his office door had slid shut, only to open again immediately with a quick growl to hold all comms.

You’d spent the morning turning away all attempts to see the Commander. You’d fought back your reserved nature to hold your ground with the pushier inquiries, offering soft promises to his men and higher ups. 

Yes, I’ll make sure Commander Fox knows you need to speak with him

The commander is indisposed right now. Can I take a message for you?

He should be available after lunch Lieutenant Thire. May I schedule for then?

The last, Lieutenant Thire, had let his irritation be known with a huff. You apologized but told him the Commander was taking care of very important matters. His look had been skeptical as he’d turned and left the office, his helmet held tightly under his arm.

 It was nearly lunchtime now and you’d not seen hide nor hair of your boss. You’d hoped, given some time, the Commander would be able to work past the hangover you were sure he had and rejoin the world of the living, knowing for a fact that you wouldn’t be able to put off the list of inquiries into his whereabouts much past the lunch hour. So you did what you did best and set to work making things run smooth. You sent an intern, the son of a well to do senator who was looking to add GAR experience to his application for the naval academy to his resume, to grab lunch with a few spare credits from your pocketbook.

When he returned you fixed a tray. balancing a mug of black caf, nuclear hot, and a Shawda club sandwich on the tray in one hand and the loaded datapad under your arm as you knock once on the Commander’s door. You frown, the scowl feeling as if it’s becoming permanent whenever Commander Fox was in your thoughts as of late. You use your hip to bump the control panel, silently moving into the darkened room as the door slides open. It closes behind you quickly, leaving you struggling to get a bearing on your surroundings. You blink rapidly for a moment before shutting your eyes entirely to allow them to adjust to the wild change in lighting before you reopen them, able to focus more readily in the low light. The blinds on the low window looking out into the midst of Coruscant are pulled tight with only a small sliver of light filtering through.

He’s sitting straight, feet on the floor and hands flat on his desk. You’d learned quickly that The Commander rarely if ever seemed to relax, at least not when you or other civilians were around. You’d walked on him and Thire a few months ago, joking and laughing with one another. The difference had been stark. His posture loose and relaxed compared to the stiff controlled way he held himself now.  He glances up, helmet still firmly in place. The blank black visor follows your movements as you pad softly across the room.

“I’ve brought you a little something.” You mumble setting the small tray down in front of him. The helmet flows from the sandwich and caf back up to you.

“I would have been fine with a ration pack.” His voice is a low rumble. Not quite disapproving but not particularly warm either. You’re sure it’s not meant to sound discouraging. He’s just pointing out a fact. Still, you feel your heart sink. You’d never worked for such a hard person to read and your natural inclination was toward pleasing those around you. Sometimes it felt like the harder you tried the colder he became.

“Yes, of-of course Sir.” You fumble, “I just thought you deserved something with a little more substance. It’s from Dex’s.” You say as if explanation.  A weak smile crosses your face. “I’ve also got some stims” you reach into your pocket for the packet and slidie it across his desk before he has time to say anything.

“Do I look like I need stims, Little Mouse?”

Little Mouse.

He’d taken to calling you the nickname after he’d heard some of the men referring to you as the little mouse scurrying about his office. It was embarrassing- except when it came from Fox’s lips. Something about it made your belly twist in the most delightful way.

Fox’s chair swivels to the side and you're both relieved and disappointed when his attention is no longer focused on you and instead on the ribbons of light filtering in through the window. He pushes the stim packet back toward you And waves his gloved hand dismissively.

“What else have you got for me, Mouse?”

You hesitate for a moment as he holds his hand out impatiently. You slide the datapad into his hand. Your fingers brush against his gloved ones. You quickly pull away. The commander's helmet cocks slightly and though you can’t see his eyes you feel his gaze on you assessingly.

You clear your throat. Something about the Commander has always made you nervous. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, competent and prideful, the air about him like he could take on the world and win.

“Sir, you really should use the stims. You’ve got a full schedule of meetings this afternoon and that’s before you have drills and range time scheduled-“

He holds up his hand and you stop short.

“It's just a headache. I don’t need stims.”

“But they’d help”

“Y/N” his voice his sharp and you swallow hard, “I said-“

“I could help then!” The words have left your mouth before you’d even had time to weigh the pros and cons of them. You’re just a shocked as the Commander at your sudden outburst.

Fox reaches up to his helmet and you hear the soft hiss of release before he’s pulling it over his head. Dark circles sit under his eyes. He looks exhausted. 

And gorgeous. 

Even with the uncharacteristic shadow of facial hair and weariness seeping from his pores he was absolutely captivating. 

The sharp cut of his jaw and the warm brown hue of his eyes draw your attention like they did everytime you’d gotten a glimpse of him. You don’t know where to look as you try to burn a few more details of the Commanders face into your memory banks to be pulled up and reviewed at a later time.

“How do you propose making my headache, go away?” He questions with a raised brow.

Your legs feel stiff as you move closer. His eyes are locked in your every step. “My Mama used to get horrible headaches” you begin softly “used to need to lay in a dark room and suffer through them till they let her be. I learned a few tricks over the years to help her. I c-could see if they work for you?”

“Tricks?” He chuckles, “wielding a bit of the Force, Little Mouse? Should I call the Temple and tell them they’ve misplaced one of their Jedi?”

Your eyes dip and your cheeks burn. You shouldn’t have said anything. You shouldn’t speak out of turn with the Commander. You-

“You all talk now?” His voice has softened and you're even more embarrassed. He feels like he’s got to handle you with kid gloves. You can feel it in the way his words flow over your skin. You’re supposed to be a reflection of him. How could you help him maintain-

“Little Mouse, get out of your head.” 

You look up at the order and glimpse satisfaction roll across his face.

“Come here and heal me if you will” You hear the teasing tone to his voice and you swallow hard before moving to comply. This was your idea after all. You could be useful. Helpful. 

You move around the desk slowly, keeping your eyes locked on the Commander’s. You feel him pick you apart with his gaze. He’s studying you, like a predator waiting for their prey to show a weak point. It’s a sorry line of thinking because suddenly you imagine Commander Fox, your boss, stalking you, his eyes burning with a want that you could only dream he felt for you. you move to his side. Your knee presses into his, bare skin against cool plastoid. 

Your heart flutters, beating against the bars of your chest. If he notices your nerves- and how can he not- he says nothing. Your hands rise slowly, hesitantly. You can not only feel but see your hands tremble as they move closer. You ball them into fists, squeezing until your knuckles go white. You release them just before they come in contact.

He’s warm. It’s the first thing you notice as one hand comes to rest against his forehead and the other cradles the back around where his occipital lobe was located. He kept his hair high and tight, not completely shaved along the sides but so short that it was almost nonexistent. You feel the soft prickle of it at the back of his head. You bite back the urge to run your fingers over it. He seems nearly as tense as you. 

“You need to relax Sir” your encouragement is barely a whisper. Fox inhales deeply, you focus on  the rise and subsequent fall of his shoulders. He repeats it twice more before you’ve seen enough tension drain to begin. 

You place pressure through your palms as if you're trying to bring them together in the middle. The Commander grunts but you’re already relaxing back. You repeat it, pressing your hands toward one another then easing off. The Commander lets out a soft sigh of breath as you continue to repeat the pattern. You’re glad he’s relaxing into your touch because you feel as if you're only growing more tense, nerves balling in your tummy. You’ve never touched him before outside of the accidental flutter of fingers against his own. Now your so close you can feel the heat radiate from his body. He tips his head forward into your hand and turning and repositioning his chair slightly so you suddenly find yourself standing between his spread knees. 

“That’s good, Little Mouse” he hums lowly and the sound shoots straight to your core. You barely have time to wrap your head around the feeling when his hand is coming up to rest at your hip. You squeak out a sound, his grip tightens, “don’t stop.” He orders.

“Yes, S-sir” 

“It’s Fox, Mouse. Call me Fox.”

“Yes Comm- Fox” Your hands continue a gentle pulse of pressure against his head. His thumb begins a series of slow, maddening circles at your hip.

“See that’s not so bad is it.” His voice has gone low, silky like you’ve never heard it. So much more dangerous than the usual gravel of it. “You’re always trying to take care of me, aren’t you, precious girl?”

You open your mouth to say something- anything- when the door slides office door slides open suddenly. You stumble away, as if you’ve been burned by his touch. Fox’s hand drops away but he makes no other indication anything is amiss. You blink dumbly into the bright light backlighting the new arrival.

“Am I interrupting?” Lieutenant Thire’s voice sounds amused as you take another step away and lower your eyes. You mumble a quick excuse and slip toward the door. You hear the Lt. chuckle. Fox’s voice, so much like Thire’s but yet so different calls after you.

“We’ll continue this conversation later, Y/N”

[ships-for-you]

Hello^^ May I request a two black butler ship one romantically and one platonically? I’m average height and I’m my early twenties. I had long curly brown hair, but I cropped it short on a whim and I’m loving it! I’ve got green eyes that tend to change color depending on what I wear. I’m a rather soft spoken individual and I’ve been told my voice is soothing to listen too.(1)

Romantically, I ship you with: Joker!

Now this may seem like a weird matchup but hear me out!

You’ve mentioned that you don’t mind befriending people as long as it’s technically in a forced situation.

Naturally, I perceived this as a perfect way to apply this idea; what if you were working for the Phantomhive manor?

Not only that, but what if you were tasked to be a private eye before they decided to infiltrate the circus?

As someone who is generally soft-spoken, I think Ciel would appreciate it if you were to speak less, so not speaking unless spoken to.

Ciel thought you were both a valuable but disposable asset to his array of pawns on his chessboard so although he appreciates your loyalty, if you were to fail? It would hardly matter to him.

Don’t get me wrong, he appreciates the fact that you’re caring towards him.

And that you’re probably the closest to a motherly figure he’ll ever have. But to an extent.

He assigns you the task of observing the variety of acts that Noah’s Ark Circus offers as soon as he recieved a letter from Her Majesty.

Through this, he expressed the intention of you getting recruited before he watches the show so he knows what to expect while leaving Sebastian to investigate the pattern of disappearance of the children.

Speaking of Sebastian, he’s the one who provided you with the blouse and trousers to make you blend in.

Apparently men are more welcome to be recruited, as they’ve read in an article. Luckily they managed to make you simply look like a charming young lad.

You bought a ticket to the presumably 2 hour show and had decided to keep a keen eye on anything there was to observe.

Too bad, as you made your way to the tent, you bumped into a performer and fell flat on your behind.

That would’ve been alright, had he left you there but instead reached out their “hand” to help you up.

That hand was that of a skinned man’s, naturally you backed away.

“Aw, there ain’t no need to worry! It be only a prosthetic, E'ee needn’t be scared!” The performer tried to console you and chuckled as he watched you try to scramble away clumsily.

You’re not really good with talking if not required to and so you panicked. If you don’t need to talk to him, don’t. Is what you thought.

Turns out he was the ringleader.

Great. Way. To make. An. Impression.

You kept up a facade to make sure you looked over the top interested so as to attract attention from the performers.

He recognized in the crowd halfway through the show and asked you as his volunteer for a, “Dagger’s” performance.

“How about the wee lad in the centre?! E'ee seem to be in good spirits!”

They told you to stay put infornt of the target but right as the blonde boy had thrown his knife, you saw something shiny and thought it was something suspicious.

Needless to say, you turned your head and moved a bit so the knife sliced your nose a bit. The crowd gasped as the boy’s mouth dropped.

“AM INCREDIBLY SORRY MISS!”

They took you to the back after the show to take a look at the cut with their doctor, chatted about, and you brought up your request to join as you expressed your interest in the circus.

“So are ee’ a young lad or lady?”

Form there, they’d be skeptical however would recruit you by the end.

You can’t be a tightrope walker, not with your clumsiness.

Certainly not a trapeze artist either.

That left you with knife throwing, juggler, or beast tamer. Any guesses what you’re best at?

Juggler it is!

From there, you spend a lot of time with Joker when training however not too much time.

You’re usually on cooking duty first thing in the morning ever since you cooked once and they wondered what you did.

You just said it was secret and the younger members and Dagger called it magic lmao. 

He likes your reaction to things that amaze you. The childish light in your eyes that he tried so hard to keep in the performers’ eyes.

He likes to bring you small gifts like small bundles of flowers or tricks that he’d like to use in their next show.

He appreciates your devotion to your friends, the rest of the first and second stringers, and your family. He knows that you write every night to your family to ensure them that you're fine and happy at the circus.

Or at least you told him you were writing to your parents.

Little compliments that seem almost flirtatious, much to Beast’s charging.

You try not to be charmed by his efforts however he just seems so genuine.

But you cannot continue. You have a task and you are falling for a criminal. Is what you tell yourself everytime he does these things.

You constantly writing every night to the Earl Phantomhive of your progress, purposely leaving out your domestic interactions with the ringleader.

The plan continues as you feign ignorance to seeing your master and colleague be recruited. Now, they serve as a constant reminder why you cannot continue as you please.

Of course, you can’t help but seem more at ease with “Black” by your side since you usually work closely together anyway.

Guess who’s jealous but laughs it off anyway? This little Pierrot.

I mean, he has no right to be. It’s not like you have an established relationship with him. He doesn’t ask how you’re close either.

He’s suspicious but he can’t suspect you since he thinks you have nothing to gain. So what if you’re chummy with a butler you’re supposed to have no way of connecting with?

He also, of course, understand that whatever he feels for you, he cannot fulfill for he also has a duty and obligation to the Baron.

It’s a fruitless romance you share with him and so you’ve merely chosen to enjoy whatever you have in the present with him.

You’ve already come to a conclusion what would happen to him in the end.

Platonically, I ship you with Sebastian!

As seen from the earlier situation proposed, you’d be colleagues meaning you’d pass by each other a lot.

I feel like you’d get along with most of the servants and occasionally Elizabeth when she visits but your dynamic with Sebastian is the most interesting and the most intimate amongst all of them.

He appreciates that you care for his master and that you don’t leave too much for him to clean up after, if not at all.

You help him clean after the other servants too and keep them in check.

He likes anyone who’s responsible enough so you’re pretty good in his book.

He’s not really the type to, “enjoy the company of others” since he’s usually too busy taking care of his bratty master’s orders however he does seem to prefer time with you than the other servants.

He appreciates how soft spoken you are therefore he finds the rare times wherein you do speak to him casually somehow precious(?) For lack of a better term.

You find yourself spending time in the young master’s library to read and he occasionally assists you when finding new and interesting material.

When you find something you like, he notices it’s always unavailable in the library.

“(Insert story lmao) again? It seems that you’re quite taken with that book, miss (y/n).”

He finds you to be the complete opposite of the humans he’s served in the past and so he’s naturally interested in your mannerisms.

He likes to observe you and you make him smile uncharacteristically for it simply finds a way to his face.

You like observing him as well as he’s unlike any “human” you’ve ever met. As perfect as a butler and as a man could ever be.

There was one time he caught you late at night outside chasing around fireflies that seemed to illuminate the silver sterlings in the garden.

He didn’t know whether to scold you for acting like a child or laugh at you for acting like a child.

Honestly, what if you tripped?

And then you tripped. Nearly fell sideways had he not done anything.

“Miss (y/n), this is hardly an appropriate time for a lady to be out and about. One could get the flu.” He’d coo but you can see that he’s slightly annoyed.

You’d apologize but would definitely do it again.

You like to be outside so you get along with Finnian as well in that regard.

Speaking of Finnian, he really likes your love for the outdoors and how caring you are for all of the servants.

“Miss (y/n), look what I’ve found near the creek! It’s a pretty narcissus flower!”

Bard appreciates how you’re very patient with him and help him when cooking meals. He’s stubborn since he can’t really let go of his flamethrower but at least he knows to be a little more patient with food now.

“That’s a pretty cool technique but I think we could speed this process up with m-” “Bard, please no.”

Mey-rin and you ofcourse share same clumsiness although hers is more related to her eyesight. She laughs along with you when you accidentally bump your hip along the servants’ tables when setting up.

You’re probably roomed with her as well and end up having nice conversations with her.

She likes your hair a lot and thinks it’s pretty and unique for the era.

“My hair just straight up looks like swine blood, yes it does! How do I have pretty hair as you, miss?”

Your “friendship” with Sebastian is quite odd and may be misplaced but as long as you don’t necessarily get in each other’s way, it’s all good.

Something I noticed very late, your eyes are literally a compliment each other’s.

~|~~|~~~~|~~~~~~|~~~~~~~|~~~~~~~|

Thank you for being patient and I hope you enjoyed your matchup! Requests are open lovelies.

[nunukibebe]

Forget-Me-Not

Hongjoong fluff!! Slightly suggestive ending, cuz this is me hello.

For my lovely @shyeosang, ily sweetpea.

-_-_-_-

Glancing up at the clock above the door, there was no hiding the small sigh that escaped you, your lips still turning up at the corners as you turned your head. Chin going back to its place in your palm, you knew that you could never truly be angry at the man you'd been staring at for the past half hour. 

Hair hidden under a red beanie, tongue poking out every so often as he poured all his concentration into the new piece of music he'd started, Hongjoong hummed under his breath, his brows furrowing as he stopped mid-tune and you stifled a giggle, not wanting to interrupt his muscial genius process.

As he stared at the computer screen, you stared at him, fingers itching to trace his features once more. The thousands of times you'd done it before were forgotten as he turned just enough to present you with his profile, and you felt his beauty like a punch to the heart. A year together and he still took your breath away, the moments creeping up without warning.

Another glance at the clock had you shrugging out of your jacket and pulling your phone out. Knowing that you would never make it to the restaurant in time to keep the reservation you'd made, you slid your feet out of the heels you'd chosen an hour earlier, padding silently out of the studio and into the hallway, closing the door with a quiet click. Dialing the restaurant's number, you quickly gave your apologies to the man on the other line. After listening to the man talk himself through the process of cancelling the dinner you'd spent hours planning, you finally hung up with a groan.

"Did 'Joong-hyung loose track of time again?"

The familiar gentle voice had you smiling as you looked up, San's brown eyes twinkling with mirth as he took in the picture of you, dressed to impress in a little black dress and leaning against the door that lead to his elders studio.

"He did, but I won't hold it against him." You admitted with a chuckle. "I knew that music would always be his first love even before we started dating."

"He loves you too, you know that, right?"

Smiling at the younger boy who had made you cry with his singing, you patted his shoulder, assuring the man that you knew Hongjoong loved you. He only told you everytime he saw you, and you would never complain about it.

Waggling your fingers in a casual wave, you slipped back into the studio, door closing softly behind you, toes sinking into the rug at the entryway. Your presence hadn't been missed, your boyfriend still focused on the music he was editing. This not being the first time you'd spent time waiting for Hongjoong to come back to reality, you crouched by the small loveseat that had been shoved into a corner, fingers searching for the soft blanket you'd stashed the moment you realized how immersed Joonie got. Wrapping the blanket around you like a shawl, you drew your legs up and tucked the corners of the blanket so you were completely wrapped in the blanket.

Then your phone was out and you let your mind wander as you scrolled through your neglected social media, Hongjoon's humming and occasional mutterings your soundtrack for the next hour. Contrary to other people's opinions, this was your happy place, curled up on an old loveseat and watching your boyfriend compose musical masterpieces. Yeah, you'd been looking forward to trying the food at the restaurant, but nothing would ever change the fact that you were happiest just being in the same room as Hongjoong. Looking up to catch the comical glare he was leveling at the editing software, you swallowed back the laughter that threatened to bubble up. Then, he looked up and there was no stopping the laughter at the pure shock on his face.

"Babe?"

Unable to help the laughter that escaped before you clapped a hand over it, you watched as your boyfriend bolted up from his chair to launch himself at you, wrapping his arms around you as he practically tackled you in a hug as apologies fell from his kissable lips.

Knowing of only one way to stop the man from talking, you freed your hands from where they were trapped under his arms and planting your palms on each side of his face, you lifted his head up to yours, forcing a gentle kiss onto him.

"Stop apologizing." You muttered into his mouth, lips curling into a smile as he stared at you in surprise.

"But I forgot about the dinner reservations." He got out between kisses, and you pulled away to level an eyebrow at him.

"This isn't a new thing, bubba." You snorted, and seeing the hurt look that passed across your boyfriend's sweet face, you held up a finger, continuing on. "But thankfully, you got super duper lucky, and your girlfriend actually prefers quiet togetherness like this instead of noisy restaurants where someone always smells like they dumped a whole bottle of cologne on themselves." 

Grinning as Hongjoong rolled his eyes in amusement at both your anecdote and the way your nose crinkled in remembrance of the horrible dinner that had been your second date with him, you winked and tossed him some finger hearts that had Hongjoong outright laughing and squishing your cheeks before he drew you into a quick but heated kiss that left you breathless.

"Super duper lucky, huh?" He asked, voice husky and coming from low in his throat, and your mouth dried up quicker than you could say 'paperplane'.

"Oh yeah." You managed to get out between dry lips before sneaking a kiss, leaping up to your feet as an idea occured, fighting down a laugh as you looked down at your slightly beweildered lover. Putting a hand on a hip, you grinned. "So you should totally buy me ice cream to make up for the fact that you totally forgot about your hungry girlfriend."

"Ice cream? Now?" Hongjoong asked, and eyebrow lifting as he righted himself, laying on his side and propped up on an elbow. "Babe, it's freezing outside." He said incredulously after pulling out his phone to check his phone for the weather.

"So?" You asked with a snort as you knelt to grab a shoe that had somehow found its way under the loveseat."Means the ice cream won't melt all over my hand like it normally does."

"You're so weird." Hongjoong muttered as he moved, reaching his longer arm under the sofa and pulling out your shoe. When you shot him a look as you slipped your other shoe on, he held up a placating hand, which you then used to hang his coat from. "I mean I'm super duper lucky to have such a loving girlfriend and I'll gladly eat uce cream with you in near freezing temperatures at 1 o'clock in the morning."

"Not sure I appreciate the attitude, Mister. But, I'll take it cuz I'm craving ice cream." You said as you shrugged on your jacket, pulling out the soft wool gloves that kept your fingers from, smiling when you saw his eyes light up as he recognized the gloves as the ones he'd bought you on your first overseas trip with him. It also just so happened to be the first time y'all had made love and you knew they reminded him of that night too when he slid an arm between your waist and the jacket, drawing you in for a kiss that had your knees threatening to give out, your hands grasping onto the lapels of his jacket to help you stay upright.

A swipe of his tongue and you were groaning into his open mouth, his other hand gripping your waist with an almost bruising force.

And just as quickly as he had deepened the kiss to where you swore you could almost see the stars, Hongjoong was stepping away, the deep red flush to his cheeks the only sign he was as flustered as you were. Gasping for breath, a quivering hand over your speeding heartbeat, you watched in a small daze as Hongjoong quickly saved his work and shoved his laptop into the backpack he carried everywhere before slinging the bag over his shoulder.

"Let's go get your ice cream, oh light of my life."

Snorting in laughter, you wrapped your scarf around your neck with slightly shaky hands, knowing he saw the trembling fingers when that smirk teased the corner of his lips that were a deep pink and kiss swollen and so very tempting. Feeling the familiar tingle running down your spine, you knew the instant Hongjoong sensed the change in your mood, an answering look in his eyes.

"Yeah, maybe skip the ice cream this time."

[utopiannamjoon]

A Knight in Leather Armor Chapter 1: Meeting the gang

Genre: Angst, fluff, university au, biker au

Pairing: Jeongguk x reader, Taehyung x reader

Major characters: Jeongguk, Taehyung, Yoongi, Jimin, OC

Warnings: Depictions of violence, swearing

Synopsis of the serie: You had an uneventful life, you went to uni and wanted to get by with no trouble but that with was thrown out of the window when you run into a biker, literally smashing your face against him at the university. Everything is changed from that point forwards.

A/N: Polished version of this chapter for a better reading experience. Next chapter tomorrow

Masterlist in bio

Link for this series masterlist can be found the main masterlist in bio

~~

You hastily shoved your things in your backpack when the lecture was finally over and booked it out of the room. You turned the corner and next thing you knew, you collided with someone, or rather someone’s hard back. The bag fell out of your hand, sending books and pens flying everywhere on the school floor.

“I’m so sorry,” you swiftly apologized, already cursing yourself in your head for being so clumsy. With shaky hands started to collect your belongings, knowing you’re late already.

“It’s okay,” the stranger said softly as he squatted next to you. Helping you, he quickly fetched the books and handed them to you, “Here.”

“Thank you-” You trailed off when you looked at him for the first time, you felt the color escaping from your face when his eyes looked back at you. He had a red bandana wrapped around his head leaving his hair hanging wherever, and the black leather jacket broadened his shoulders even further making him look more intimidating than he usually seems.

You recognized him. You collided with Kim Taehyung, who was a member of a biker gang. A lot of dark rumours of violence they’ve committed circled around about the campus, and now you’ve bumped into one of the members, that couldn’t be good. Sure, some of the members go to your university and you’ve seen them, but you’ve never made eye contact with a member, let alone talked to them.

“Are you okay?” He tilted his head, asking you in concern. You must’ve looked like you just seen a ghost. “You clashed into me quite hard,” he let out a slight chuckle as he hoisted you up by your arm.

“Yes, th- thank you. I’m so- so sorry,” you stuttered and apologized over and over again in a hush voice. You couldn’t even look at his face when you thanked him.

Taehyung’s mouth opened to say something but it was too late. You were already on your way, disappearing around the corner still apologizing between breaths.

As you guessed it, your boyfriend was waiting for you in the main hall, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor.

“What took you so long? I told you I was gonna wait for you,” He hissed as he grabbed the bag out of your hands, “Why are you so slow? This happens everytime,” He huffed to himself and started walking to the parking lot, you following just behind him.

“Well I’m here now Jimin,” you smiled coyly at him, but he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

You got in the passenger side of his car, as you sat down he flinged your backpack in your lap, making you flinch. Jimin scoffed at your reaction saying it was over-dramatic, and finally started the car and you were on your way. He dropped you off at your house and grabbed your arm as you were half way out of the car,

“I’ll pick you up at 11,” He told you.

“Sorry?” You trailed off, “Pick me up for what?”

“For the party,” He said, looking at you like you were an idiot. He paused for a moment, taking his time thinking before laughing, “Did I forget to tell you?”

”You did but it’s okay… I’ll see you at 11 then,” You feigned a smile.

You turned the key in the lock of your front door when Jimin opened up a window, “Don’t wear the short dress. I hate it, It makes you look like someone who belongs on a street corner,” He shouted before speeding off.

You sighed in front of your mirror looking at yourself. Now you’ve got to get ready for a party you didn’t even want to go. You’d much rather just cuddle up your blankets in the dark and watch tv. But Jimin wants to take you, this will be good for your relationship. Right?

You rummaged through your closet to find something decent to wear. You didn’t want your boyfriend to call you a whore again so you settled on a pink blouse and a black skirt that ended just above your knees. Feeling confident of your outfit of choice, you took a shower and got ready for the party. You put on subtle make-up and set your hair up in a bun. You felt satisfied at how you looked, all you had to do is to wait the clock hit 11.

Soon enough Jimin was outside, honking to get your attention. You cringed to yourself, thinking of yours neighbors reactions and unsattisfied tuts. Just once you wished he’d be a gentleman and come ring your doorbell. He pushed the door open for you from inside of the car and you made quick steps, knowing he hates when he has to wait for you.

“So?” You wiggled your torso as you sat in the car, trying to draw his attention on your blouse, wanting his approval.

“What?” He said with a dull face, not even sparing a glance at you.

“My outfit,” You told him shyly, “How do you like it?”

“Oh,” He set his eyes on you with a sour expression, he looked at you for only two seconds before looking at the red light again, “It’s fine.”

Was that it? ‘It’s fine’? You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t give you more detailed answer. So you just accepted it as what it was.

The party was alive and well when you arrived. You walked in with Jimin’s hand on your ass giving you painful pinches. You wish he didn’t insist on coming everywhere so late but he said it keeps up his reputation. If you arrived just two hours earlier you could’ve talked with your mutuals, but what could you say to Jimin?

You weren’t even in the house yet when calls for your boyfriend roared through the windows. He smacked your ass and told you to go get something to drink, before joining his friends’ beer bong game. So you did as he suggested and awkwardly found your way through the crowd to the kitchen. You looked through the red solo cups, trying to find a clean one to pour some liquor in.

“Ah we meet again Y/n,” A deep but amused voice said behind you, “I can’t believe he left you so soon from your arrival,” He chuckled, not at you but in disbelief of how ridiculously your boyfriend acted. You stared at the man with a red bandana with frozen eyes, squeezing the red cup in your hand in distress,

“How do you know my name?” You asked, nearly whispering but Taehyung managed to hear you through the noise anyway. He laughed at your question before looking at your confused expression,

“Oh you’re not joking,” he realized and explained with an understanding smile, “You’re the girlfriend of the most popular guy at the university. Everybody knows who you are,” The smile on his face didn’t drop at any point, but it wasn’t a forced one either. His adorable eyes smiled too.

You nodded, not wanting to look at him so you directed your gaze at the bottom of the cup. You wished it had some content to make your mind more at eaze. Taehyung’s demeanour exudes softness and friendliness, but you still weren’t comfortable with casually talking to him. You’re afraid that the rumours are true.

Taehyung lifted his jaw up a little to peek in your red cup where your eyes were focused, “I have water if you’d rather drink it than alcohol,” He said, offering a water bottle he pulled out of his jacket pocket. He saw how tense you were, you almost trembled from being scared,

“I’m with my bike so I can’t drink,” Taehyung explained at your pale face, “See?” He pointed out of the window towards a metallic black motorcycle with a white side. You tried to look in the dark to see it. His motorcycle was parked next to the curb, and from what you could see all of the details were in black except the seat which was sand brown leather. Quite a contrast to his personality you’ve gotten to know this far. You really didn’t know anything about motorcycles or Taehyung for that matter but this one wasn’t what you thought him driving. It was the most hipster-y and artsy motorcycle you could imagine.

You took the water bottle from Taehyung because you didn’t want to be rude, especially since you didn’t know if he was actually the maniac every says he is.

“Anyway I have some business to do,” He told you with a small smirk tugging on his lips, “I hope you have a good evening.”

You wished him the same but it just splurt out of your mouth into mumbles, you just hoped no one heard you.

Looking at the water bottle you decided not to drink it and just set it aside on the counter. Though it’s cap was still intact you felt anxious about it. You poured liquor into your red solo cup and took sip, your face contorting every time the liquid burned its way down your throat.

You found few people to share some words with but they were all too hammered to talk clearly so you just thought it was better if you just stood in the corner. A slight breeze of fresh air hit you from the side as you were looking around the living room. A glass door for the backyard was open so you took your chance to see some stars in the warm night.

You leaned on the wooden fence looking up at the full moon and bright stars. Somehow it made you feel so insignificant yet so special. You searched for star constellations, finding only few but it didn’t matter. The sight was just something so beautiful, you could look at it forever with the world just blurring into the background.

“What’re you looking at?” Jimin wobbled towards you on the porch. Setting himself behind you, his face was next to yours as his hands leaned on the fence from behind. His breath just reeked of alcohol.

“Just the stars,” You smiled to yourself, “Aren’t they beautiful?” You asked, forgetting that he didn’t actually care. He was just after the one thing.

“Aha,” He just mumbled as he pressed himself against you. He grabbed your hips to keep them still as he tried to get a hard on.

“Here? Really?,” You asked, feeling shy about this happening out in the open. Though everybody were so drunk they didn’t care, even so it was uncomfortable for you.

“C’mon stay still,” He ordered you. Grabbing you even harder, trying to focus on pleasuring himself he grinded harder. You sighed, not wanting to fight your boyfriend. So you just closed your eyes and waited until it’s over.

It didn’t last any longer as Jimin was forcefully torn off you.

“That’s enough,” You heard the deep voice that had been haunting the whole day say calmly to your boyfriend.

“What the fuck do you want? Don’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” Jimin spat back at Taehyung, furious of being interrupted.

“Maybe you were, but she clearly wasn’t into it,” Taehyung remained calm and placed himself between you and your boyfriend, “And she is drunk.”

“What’s your problem huh?!” Jimin raised his voice, “Who the fuck you think you are?! Some kind of fucking perv watching us fuck?!” He yelled at Taehyung’s face, saliva flying everywhere.

Taehyung just chuckled at the shorter man undermining his authority. The light hearted chuckle enraged your boyfriend even further.

Jimin grabbed the collar of Taehyung’s leather jacket, and the smile Taehyung had always on grew even bigger. In return Taehyung clutched the material of your boyfriend’s shirt and pushed him against the wall without any trouble, the situation might’ve gone differently if he wasn’t intoxicated and entirely in control.

“Stop before you get yourself hurt,” Taehyung told him casually, like he was talking to some child and not to your grown-adult-boyfriend that was held up against the wall.

“I know what they say about you. I’m not afraid of you,” Jimin quipped quickly with an arrogant head tilt. Taehyung’s demeanor changed entirely as those words flew out of Jimin’s mouth. Was he offended? Despite Jimin’s attacking tone you caught the hint of hesitation in his voice and it seems like Taehyung did too,

“Yeah? Maybe you should be,” he said, pressing his index finger between Jimin’s ribs, “Because I have something you necessarily wouldn’t want poking through your lungs,” Taehyung told him in a menacing voice, without breaking eye contact. He moved his hand across Jimin’s abdomen in a cutting motion, “Or it can go here if you prefer, or even here,” His hand being now at Jimin’s throat causing him to gulb out of fear.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how the rumours were true after all. It circled around your campus that Taehyung was the psychopath of the gang, that he did all of dirty work because he simply enjoyed it. It definitely seemed that way right now too, the way he was boring his eyes through Jimin’s skull. Taehyung always had a smile on his face but this one was even bigger when he showed Jimin places where he could insert his knife. The rumour has it that Taehyung stabbed a man walking down the street, and punctured his lung with his stiletto switchblade jagged between the man’s ribs, just like he showed to your boyfriend.

Taehyung threw Jimin to the side when he knew the message was well received. He stumbled few steps before regaining his balance. You’ve never seen your boyfriend so angry yet so terrified. His ego took a massive hit when Taehyung didn’t leave him finish his business.

Taehyung took one powerful step towards your boyfriend for intimidation, and he flinched.

“Fuck you,” Jimin pointed at Taehyung as he looked for a way to get out, “This isn’t over,” He threatened and almost ran into the door on his way back in. And that’s what it just was. A threat. He had to say it to cover his ego and reputation somehow.

“What a fucking loser,” Taehyung breath out. He didn’t sound annoyed or angry, which honestly horrified you even more. Did he not feel anything?

You stood there, frozen, as you still leaned on the fence trying to make yourself invisible. Taehyung turned to you after making sure Jimin was nowhere to be seen, he didn’t want to take any chances of a counter attack from a drunk dude. He smiled from knowing he had won this one but when he turned around to you his smile faded quickly away,

“You’re crying. Are you hurt?” He asked you carefully trying to offer you a comforting hand, but you pulled back. You didn’t even know you were crying until he asked that, which just opened up the dam further.

You shook your head, you weren’t hurt but the smallest of attention Taehyung gave you showed you the contrast how your boyfriend treated you. It made you feel like your heart was ripped out of your chest, but you swore to him you weren’t hurt. At least it didn’t hurt more than usual.

Taehyung sighed, it was useless to push it further, he wouldn’t get an answer out of you. He took off his jacket and delicately put it around your shoulders,

“Let me take you home,” He gently said, or more like asked you. You nodded, which might have been a big mistake. You didn’t know him at all. All you knew he threatened your boyfriend and threw him on the ground but against better judgement you followed him to his motorcycle. He waited for you to untie your hair to place his helmet on your head and he fastened the strap for you. You managed to give him your address in between sobs when he asked you for it.

Taehyung sat on the motorcycle first, and he pushed the side stand up with his left leg, and reached to put down the passenger’s leg rests. His feet were securely on the ground on each side of the motorcycle. His right hand was on the front brake, and with his left he tapped the seat behind him signaling for you to get on. He saw how you hesitated, you didn’t know how. You’ve never been on one, this was the closest you’ve seen a motorcycle.

“Grab my shoulders but don’t pull me down when you get up,” He warned you with a slight smile, “Put your foot on that peg right there, and simply just use it to get up,” He advised.

With Taehyung’s help you manage to sit behind him and he moved your hands to fling around his waist. His left hand went to press the clutch all the way in and he started the motorcycle. The engine roared under you two. The noise was something new to you, it was so loud that your heart jumped every time he turned his wrist to give more gas. He slowly released the clutch and you moved forwards, your hands wrapped themselves tighter around him. You felt adrenalin flow through your body as he accelerated, scenery moving faster and faster around you. The wind blew in your hair and the cool air hit your face. You haven’t felt this alive in years.

The sweet purring of the motorcycle ended too soon, as you arrived at your house. You got off the motorcycle and took of his jacket he lent you.

“Thank you for everything,” You smiled coyly as you handed him the leather jacket back.

“Don’t mention it,” Taehyung said while pulling his arm through the sleeve, “It’s probably not my place to say but I wish you’d learn to stand your ground.” He told you referring to earlier.

“But he’s my boyfriend,” You whined as if that was a legitimate rebut.

“Especially so,” Taehyung sighed. He tried to find your eyes with his gaze, but he gave up on that since you were intensely looking down at your own feet, “Jimin should respect you in every way possible. You deserve someone who doesn’t degrade you like he does,” He told you in a matter-of-fact tone. It was something so obvious but for some reason you didn’t see that and it ate him up, Jimin wasn’t a good guy. Taehyung didn’t know you but it hurt him seeing someone so vulnerable, so trusting of others yet so unable to protect themselves.

“You’re not much of a talker are you?” He chuckled to himself when all you could do is answer him with a nod. “I’ll see you at school. Take care of yourself okay?” Once again you nodded and turned around to your house.

“Hey Y/n,” He called after you, “I’ll take the helmet too.”

You returned to give Taehyung the helmet with an awkward smile, your cheeks were burning up from this mishap. You managed to make one glance at him, he was smiling but it wasn’t mocking. You couldn’t quite describe his expression, it was like he was looking at something so innocent and small that he just wanted to protect.

You had the whole weekend to think over what just happened. Just the other day you were introduced to this biker, who is the most intimidating person you’ve ever come across yet he seems so kind. What were you supposed to think of it? Taehyung might have killed someone but here you are thinking about him and how nice he was, you should be smacked for it.

You turned on your side, groaning. “This can’t be happening,” You muttered and pushed your head back in your pillow, you just wanted to get your thoughts away from the biker with the red bandana. Your wish came true as the knock on your window bursted you out of your thoughts.

“Jimin it’s so late,” you complained when your opened your window. He jumped in and cocked his head,

“What do you mean? It isn’t even midnight,” He scoffed.

“Well no because it’s past that… It’s 2am…” You answered him, but he just brushed it off,

“You know, I can’t believe you let him get in the way of our special time,” Jimin said with a hint of accusation in his voice. You shook your head, refusing to register what he just said. You looked like a wounded animal trying to figure out why was he blaming you. In no way was it your fault.

“But,” He continued, coming towards you, “Now that I’m here I’ll take what’s mine,” He told you in between kissing your neck. You set your hands on his shoulders tried to push him away but he didn’t move,

“No, my parents are asleep.”

“So? That hasn’t been a problem before,” You heard him get frustrated. You sighed and thought of the only excuse he took to get himself off you, you’ve learned it the hard way,

“I can’t… girl… problems…” You lied.

He recoiled and stepped back, “That’s nasty,” He said, releasing his grip from you, “You should tell me that in advance. You’re making me have serious blue balls here,” He complained.

“Let me know when it’s over so you can deal with this situation,” Jimin pointed his finger at his junk, “I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow.”

You watched him leave through the window and climb down the tree. You didn’t say anything, you didn��t want to. It’s better if you just stayed silent. What could you say that would make a difference? It’s not like he’d ever taken your suggestions to heart. You’ve been with him since you were 15 and it was always like this. Doesn’t matter what you gave to him, he isn’t willing to give a fraction of it back.

Monday rolled around quickly and soon you were at the university again. Once again Jimin slapped your ass as you two parted ways. The amount of smacking he did you were sure your ass had his hand mark on it.

You sat down in the back of the class, alone. You always found the corner to be the most peaceful and quiet. It allowed you to write down a lot of notes and listen in closely, though you were far from the professor you thankfully had good hearing.

In the middle of the uneventful lecture someone sat down beside you,

“You did not just sneak in a class you don’t even take while the lecture is like half way through,” You whispered, shocked. You were always the good girl. Always early for every occasion, and never interrupting anything. So when Taehyung did exactly what your worst nightmares were made of, it left you astonished. You could never do that.

“Yeah I did,” He grinned at you like it was the most mundane thing to do. Maybe it was for him, but not for you. He grabbed your hand, dragging you up with him, “And now we’re going to sneak out.” You managed to snatch your laptop with you when Taehyung pulled you out of the class.

“That’s crazy,” You told him. Looking back the classroom door, you were on the edge should you go back in, “I’ve never done that. I can’t just leave the lecture.”

“Yes you can. It’s university,” He laughed, “You just get up and leave, it’s really that simple.”

“I’ve known you few days and you have already made me do these insane things,” You pointed out. You weren’t mad about it, it just seemed so unreal. This wasn’t you, you couldn’t just simply walk out of the lecture. It felt wrong.

“I have a feeling we’re going to do more of these ‘insane things’” He snickered, and patted your shoulder comfortingly. A giggle almost left your lips and his face momentarily lit up.

”Why did you get me out of the class anyway,” You asked the question burning on your mind. The only time you’ve left class was when you were 10 years old, and it was for the dentist.

”I’m just bored,” He shrugged.

”You’re just bored,” You repeated in a dead voice and he nodded, ”You dragged me out, because you were bored. Wha- Don’t you have friends?”

”Hey I have friends,” He laughed and dramatically placed his hand on his heart, ”They have important things to do, is all.”

”How isn’t my lecture important?” You asked, feeling something familiar in your heart. It’s like you were talking to your boyfriend. Your things didn’t matter but his did. Your schedule was irrelevant as always-

”It’s not that it isn’t important, it’s that it’s simple mathematics. I have no doubt in my mind that you couldn’t do it,” He told you, and he was right. You knew everything that course had to offer yet you still diligently made notes and sat through it.

”You don’t always have to be goodie-two-shoes. Sometimes it’s good be carefree and do what you enjoy, you should learn that,” He said, smiling as usual, ”So what do you like to do in your free time?”

”Study,” You deadpanned and he laughed, taking it as a joke.

”You have a lot to learn, but thankfully you’ll be learning from the best,” He pointed his thumbs at himself and playfully nudged you, ”Now c’mon let’s go.”

You followed Taehyung through the school hallways and you realised where you were headed to; the cafeteria,

”You couldn’t wait 20 minutes for lunch?” You laughed as you queued up for food.

”No, I’m really hungry,” He confessed coyly and lifted his index finger as if he was a professional speaker, ”Food is important,” He said in a deep voice. ”Food is fuel.”

You couldn’t really argue about that, food was important and you really didn’t mind the company. Usually you ate alone or with Jimin when his friends were too busy to join him. Carrying your tray you followed Taehyung to a table of his choosing. He chose one in the middle of the cafeteria but it didn’t matter since you were the only ones there. As soon as Taehyung sat down he started shoveling food in his mouth,

“You know, I know you saw me on Friday morning,” He said, mouth full of food, “And I know it’s why you looked so shocked when you ran into me the same day.”

On Friday morning both you and Jimin walked through the campus together, just trying to get to your classes. You tugged at Jimin’s sleeve when you heard commotion coming from behind the library. You walked closer with him to see a man in beat the life out of someone, only thing that stayed on your mind was the red bandana sticking out of his back pocket. Blood on the victim’s face splattered to the wall as the attacker threw a side hook to his cheek.

“We’ve got to help him,” You pulled Jimin’s arm but he ripped it out of your grip,

“It’s not our place to intervene.”

“But-”

“I said no. Get moving Y/n,” He told you sternly and started walking towards the main building, not looking back once. You stood there, considering of helping but you couldn’t do it. There’s no way a small girl like you would have the authority to break off a fight between two grown men.

The moment you crashed into Taehyung you recognized the bandana on his head, he was the attacker. It made you scared out of your mind and you wanted out of the situation immediately. You only got more uncomfortable when he helped you. He was brutally beating someone hours prior, but right then he lend you a hand with the sweetest smile.

“I have history with Jimin. That’s why he didn’t barge in,” Taehyung continued while slopping the food in his mouth. You on the other hand didn’t feel hungry anymore. You felt scared. Why did he bring it up? Did he want something from you?

“Though I thought he would’ve at least come to yell some curses at me since after all it was his friend who I was beating- Why do you look like that? Do you need to throw up?” He stopped talking when he glanced at your pale face. Placing down the utensils he cocked his head, waiting for you to say something.

“You beat up my boyfriend’s friend,” You stated to yourself, and he nodded in confusion. You brought your hands closer to your body and fiddled with your fingers. Trying to gather the courage, you finally managed to look Taehyung in the eyes, “Did you beat up him too?”

“That’s not what I was saying,” Taehyung shook his hands defending his words but he started rambling, “But yes I have… Has he not told you? It’s not like I like to have these fights but Jimin and his pals won’t leave me alone. They’ve been bugging me for so long. Calling me names, sabotaging my things…Ahh I don’t want to get into it,” He finished his thoughts while looking down at his feet. There was something Taehyung was insecure about but you couldn’t pinpoint it just yet.

You gently put your hand closer to Taehyung. Something told you he was sincere, maybe he was a master manipulator but you just wanted to believe him. The ache that shone through his expression made you to give him the benefit of the doubt. He saw your hand from the corner of his eye and gradually followed it to your smiling face.

“I’m sure you have your reasons. I’m not to judge,” You told him genuinely. He sighed, it was like a burden was lifted off his shoulders and all you did is have some basic understanding.

“He hasn’t told me though…I wonder why,” You answered his question. You tapped your jaw with your index finger as you pondered further. You’ve seen Jimin with bruises but when you’ve asked about them he told you to leave it be and not ask anymore questions.

“I’m sorry for asking this. I know it’s none of my business but,” He started off, “It seems like you’ve never denied Jimin of anything. Does he not allow you to speak your mind?”

“If I try to tell him something he scoffs at me or shuts me up-”

“So you’ve always done as he says? You’ve never made your own choice?”

“Well… Yeah…” You said coyly rubbing your arm.

“Here’s your chance then.” The grin set on his face, ”Jimin is walking here right now and staring at me pretty harshly, hope he doesn’t want to kill me right here,” He joked, though never losing the eye contact with Jimin, “Go if you want to, stay if you want to. Make up your own mind. You’re your own individual and not his puppet,” Taehyung told you.

You were so focused on the conversation with Taehyung that you didn’t realise the cafeteria slowly filling with other students. And of course other students would mean your boyfriend, too.

“Let’s get going,” Your boyfriend tapped your shoulder. You turned to him to find out his eyes were glued on Taehyung. What was this game they had going on? You glanced at Taehyung for help but he just gave you an encouraging nod. He wanted you to make up your own mind, it didn’t matter if you left him right there if that decision came from you and not Jimin.

“Ummm… No thank you. I’m talking to Tae,” You smiled at Jimin. His head snapped to look at you. You’ve never seen him so confused as right now.

“What do you mean? Let’s go. Now,” He said strictly, giving you another chance to comply but you shook your head.

“I’m with Tae. I’ll see you later.”

“Who’s gonna take you home then?” He asked a simple question but it sounded like a threat. You’d lose your ride if you didn’t go with him even though he still had one lecture left for the day.

“I’ll walk,” You brushed him off and turned back towards the table. You took a sip of water to calm down your nerves, just begging you won’t choke on it.

“Fine. Talk to this village idiot then,” He spat and turned on his heel. Even from his walk you could tell he was pissed to no end. If looks could kill, Taehyung would be dead for the nth time just in these few minutes. Taehyung kept a casual gaze towards Jimin the whole time, smirking as a mark of victory.

”Wow that was great,” Taehyung grinned and almost slow clapped it out for you but you stopped him by grabbing his arm but his grin just widened,”I never knew you had the guts to do that. I’m impressed. You even called me Tae, nice job on that one.”

”My heart is beating so fast. This is the first time I’m not following his orders,” You said. You felt giddy, it was exciting to make your own decisions no matter how small.

”I called you Tae on purpose, just to piss him off,” You confessed with a hand over your mouth. Tae was more intimate than Taehyung, it’s a nickname. You guessed that if you said it infront of Jimin you’d get a more dramatic reaction out of him, and you were right, that face Jimin made when you said it...

”You’re worse than I thought! You show great potential,” He gasped jokingly before the boxy grin set its place on his face again. Poking you he said, ”You know I’m going to the lake with the guys and I thought you’d want to join us. I would pick you up.”

”Sure, I’d love that,” You bit your lip from smiling ear to ear. You’re rarely invited to anything, if you are then it’s because of Jimin. So you’re gonna accept the only invitation that was truly for you.

After finishing your lunch you both walked outside, heading home. Your mind was still on the skipped class. You never played hookie so it just stuck in your head. Though it was great excitement to leave class and not comply to your boyfriend’s orders, it left you regretful and insecure.

“Are you gonna take the bus home?” Taehyung asked when you walked down the stairs in main hall towards his motorcycle. He parks it next to the library building to avoid anyone knocking it down with their car and if anyone was to mess with it they’d get caught because the library security cameras reached there.

“No, I’m walking home,” You responded with a smile, “You heard me say it.”

“I thought that was some kind of threat against Jimin,” He chuckled, “I’ll take you.”

“No, no, it’ll be just 30 minute walk,” You denied his request. You wouldn’t want to bother him that much. And little walk never hurt anybody. It was a warm day and you liked to look at the nature on your way.

“Come with me and it’ll be 10 minutes.”

“Are you sure?”

“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t ask,” He singsong with a small smile on his lips.

You finally caved in and followed Taehyung to his motorcycle. He handed you his helmet and got on the bike. You fiddled around, trying to lock the strap but eventually failing,

“I don’t know how,” You whined like you were 5 years old, “It’s one string and two loops. How am I supposed to tie it?” Taehyung chuckled at your antics and motioned for you to get closer,

“The strap goes through both of the loops first,” He explained as he pulled your head closer for his reach. He pulled the strap through the loops and tightened it carefully not to hurt you, “Here’s when you fasten it, then it does a little loop before goes again through the first loop. And ta-da you’re all set,” He took his hands off the helmet and smiled from ear to ear.

As before, your heart jumped when the engine started purring underneath. Were you ever going to get used to it? Just few days prior you were on a motorcycle for the first time but now… you realized you missed it. It’s something so freeing about driving on the road while the scenery passes by, it’s almost like you’re flying when the wind blows through your hair. You’re just gliding on the road on two wheels at the mercy of the surrounding world.

Taehyung pulled up in front of your garage and you already started whining, not wanting the ride to end,

“Does it have to end here?”

“Everything has to come to an end,” He chuckled at your puppy like expression, “Take your swimming trunks… Or whatever girls take to swimming…”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his awkwardness,

“They’re called bikinis,” You laughed and smirked teasingly, ” Anyway I’ll be back soon. I’ll just drop my bag and grab the bikini.”

Taehyung nodded and hit himself in the head for being so stiff. He turned the bike around while waiting for you, it would be easier to drive away that way.

You ran to your room, hopping over stairs to get there faster. You emptied your closet on the floor and nearly yelled for your mom, where are they? You rummaged through a drawer until your eyes found the bikinis.

“Damn you were fast,” He said looking at his watch when you came out of your house. You hopped back on his bike,

“Yup. I’m ready to go,” You tapped his side. He nodded and started the bike,

“To the lake we go!”

You were driving about 40 minutes when you began to be surrounded by trees. You didn’t know where you were. The road was narrow, curvy, and full of potholes. You saw no one else driving there. You weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

Soon enough you saw two men sitting on their parked motorcycles on the side of the road. Both wearing the same leather jacket as Taehyung, with same details and same patches. On their upper backs read “Bangtan” with a curved front.

Taehyung pulled up next to them. He turned off his motorcycle and waited for you to get off first.

“You brought a girl,” The white haired man stated dully, but then came in for a handshake introducing himself, ”I’m Yoongi.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself back. He didn’t go to your school, you had no recollection of seeing him before. You thought all of the members went to your school.

You waited for the other guy to do something but he just sat on the bike.

“This is Jeongguk, you might know him already or seen him before,” Taehyung told you and motioned towards him. You did recognize him as he turned his head towards you. He went to the same university and played for the baseball team, you’ve seen him a hand full of times but you’ve never talked to him.

Jeongguk nodded at you cooly before getting off his bike and starting to walk into the woods with everyone following him,

“I’m not keeping my shirt on because a girl is here,” Jeongguk scoffed at Taehyung who just laughed in response.

It wasn’t a long walk to the lake, you just followed a small trail to the open woods. You tugged on Taehyung’s sleeve as he set down his bag to ask him,

“Why did he say that…” You trailed off as fast as you started the sentence when Jeongguk took off his jacket, following with his white t-shirt. His muscles were so prominent you were sure it was a work of art. A Greek God. You were in a dream, you must’ve been.

Taehyung’s deep chuckle interrupted your thoughts and you finally unglued your eyes from Jeongguk,

“That’s why. Every girl who sees him shirtless has that same exact reaction,” He laughed. You nodded and tried to hide your blushing face. You sighed in relief that you changed your bikini on at home. You couldn’t deal with another embarrassing moment of changing in front of a group of guys.

You set your jeans and hoodie on a boulder to avoid dirt and bugs, or that’s what you hoped. Jeongguk and Yoongi were already in the water, splashing it on each other’s faces. But where’s Taeh-

You shrieked as you were suddenly lifted up in the air. He threw you on his shoulder, and you pounded your hands on his back. You continued it in protest but he just chuckled.

“It’s not gonna be too cold,” Taehyung said, but he wasn’t believing his own words either. He entered the water and instead of smacking you down in it he let you go. However it was still bad since when he let you down the water still reached above your belly button.

“It’s not that cold,” Yoongi laughed how you held your arms in front you and shivered. You haven’t been in water for a long time so you had to get used to it.

“Now since we have an even amount of people…” Taehyung said smirking, “Two versus two.”

“You’re on,” Jeongguk lifted his eyebrows and ordered Yoongi to sit on his shoulders.

“Oh no,” You whispered underneath your breath. You knew where this was headed to, shoulder wars.

Taehyung squatted all the way down to help you get up. You did what you had to do and got on. Yoongi shot you the most murderous look you’ve ever seen, but it didn’t scare you. You’re in it to win it.

Jeongguk stepped closer with Yoongi on his shoulders. He put his arms in front of him getting ready to push you down. You followed his movements while Taehyung chanted words of encouragement.

You caught Yoongi by his biceps and tried to push him down but he refused to topple. Instead Yoongi grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. He leaned too far back making Jeongguk wobble and Yoongi lost all of his balance. He went under water as the other guys laughed.

“Yoongi get up,” Jeongguk snorted and helped his shorter friend up on his shoulders again, “We can’t lose to them.”

You got ready for the second round. Just hopefully winning the first round wasn’t beginners luck but alas. Jeongguk charged towards you and Taehyung. Within just few seconds Yoongi crashed into you and you were all sent flying. The guys all laughed together. And for the first time in forever you were genuinely having fun. Maybe befriending bikers wasn’t bad after all.

“Oh who do we have here,” A voice called from the shore, “Is it the Bangtan bitches I see here. And is - is that a girlie they are with. Oh my,” He said unnecessarily loud and brashly to his friend, meaning for you to hear it.

Taehyung took a couple of steps to block your line of sight to the shore as he heard the man talking. The guys’ full attention was now towards the two guys standing next to their pile of clothes. The friendly and happy atmosphere was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck off Jack,” Jeongguk yelled back. Even from the back of his head you could tell how annoyed he got by that guy.

“Do you all fuck her at the same time or take turns? Three holes right?” Jack roared with laughter, leaning on his friend he wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Did you really follow us just to get your ass beat up again?” Jeongguk asked sarcastically as he walked out of the water, you and the others following behind. You went to your clothes that were thankfully further away from the two guys. You put on your shirt to feel little less vulnerable.

“There’s three of us and two of you. How do you think you’re going to win?” Taehyung scoffed. This was the first time you didn’t feel bad about being excluded. Fuck this situation.

“I don’t know but riddle me this,” Jack smirked, “It would be a shame if someone did something to your bikes. They’re so neatly parked next to the road. What would you do?”

The gang shared quick looks before Yoongi muttered curses and fetched his bag. He always kept some tools with him just in case this type of situation happened. He ran past you and touched your shoulder to say to hang in there.

“Now it’s two versus two. How’s your daddy doing by the way Jeon?” Jack tilted his head and mockingly pouted his lower lip. The question was a totally normal one to ask but the way he said it meant to hurt, it just left you wondering.

“You wouldn’t know would you?” Jack ridiculed Jeongguk, and it worked. You saw how his back muscles tensed further. Jack continued with a smirk, but he focused his taunting on something else, “You know she has two hands so we could join you with Mark.”

“Yeah she looks real pretty,” Mark said in a disgustingly greasy way, coming closer to you with his hand stretched out. You closed your eyes and turned your head away from him, you didn’t want him to touch you.

You waited for the contact but it didn’t happen. You opened your eyes to see his hand in Jeongguk’s death grip just inches away from your face. You saw how his chest just heaved from pure anger.

“You should’ve just said you were into beatings. I could’ve given you one for free,” Jeongguk stated with absolute fury in his eyes.

“Oh so you’re the one fucking her,” Mark’s maniac grin grew bigger. He winked, “Mind if we share?”

Jeongguk grabbed Mark’s right hand with both of his, placing his thumbs on back of his hand, tilting it towards Mark and then quickly turning it to the left. Mark’s whole body followed his hand like a chain reaction, having to fall instead of getting his wrist broken. He grunted as face planted the ground hard.

“Did your mom never teach you manners?” Jeongguk kicked Mark’s stomach.

With big eyes Jack looked between Mark and Jeongguk,

“You shouldn’t have done that,” He yelled.

Jack ran towards Jeongguk with his fist up. Jeongguk just blandly looked at him and turned his upper body to dodge, the fist almost brushing against his nose.

“And you shouldn’t make those insanely dumb loading movements with your whole torso,” Taehyung laughed, “We can see your punches from miles away. It’s hilarious. This is why you always lose.”

Mark wasn’t so sure of Taehyung’s words as he attached himself to his leg. Taehyung kicked him off with his other foot. He grabbed the collar of Mark’s shirt and dragged him up. The fists started flying as soon as Mark’s legs were grounded.

Taehyung jumped around, jabbing Mark in head and stomach once in a while, he was having fun with this one. Mark tried his best to let his fists hit something but Taehyung kept blocking and dodging them. When Mark’s left elbow came towards Taehyung’s face the game ended, as he just barely manage to avoid it. Taehyung bent his knees to dodge, and jumped towards the other, knocking him on the ground.

Jeongguk fought a bit differently compared to Taehyung. It was like he was out for blood. Taehyung was playing around, having fun, being equal with his opponent but Jeongguk ruled over his fight, as if he was fighting for death.

Jack’s face was beat into a bloody pulp and Jeongguk didn’t stop, he kept going and going. His hand wrapped around Jack’s throat as the punches came rarer but harder. You watched from afar, not knowing what to do. Your heart was in your throat. You just watched as Jeongguk’s fist spread the blood all over Jack’s face. It splattered on Jeongguk’s bare torso, arm, and face on every hit.

“Fucking stop Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk ripped his arm back from Taehyung’s grip, hitting Jack’s face again. Jack’s lip was busted open and his eye was swollen shut. Mark looked from the side with a bloody nose, he had surrendered not wanting to get hurt even more.

You sighed from relief when Yoongi ran past you, tackling Jeongguk from the side but ultimately failing. He and Taehyung struggled to pull Jeongguk up as he was still swinging punches.

“You’re gonna kill him!” Taehyung roared again deep from his chest.

They got Jeongguk far from Jack and just barely managed to keep him still. The fire was still seated in his eyes. As far as he knows, nothing is going to stop what he started. Jack laid on the ground heaving, making effort to breath. Blood dripped down, puddling up next to his face.

[aaaalterlove]

La Giraffa (a fic inspired by Martino’s picture on Instagram)

La giraffa ha il cuore lontano dai pensieri. Si e innamorata ieri, e ancora non lo sa

When Martino had first read that text from Nico, none of it had made any sense to him. It had taken him over a half a year to realise the meaning behind those words. He had been going through texts between Nico and him because the longing inside him had grown unbearable. Nico was studying in a university in Milan while he was still in Rome, finishing his last year of high school. They only saw each other on the weekends if neither of them were too busy with school work, which, unfortunately, was too often the case.

         ”Next stop, Milan!” shouted the speaker on the train and Martino was forced to wake up from his thoughts. Well, to be honest, it didn’t bother him one bit. It had been three weeks since he had last seen Nico and he couldn’t wait any longer to see his face and to hear his voice.

         Milan held many memories for Martino and Nico. Even though that night had made Martino more scared than he had ever been before, he didn’t want to forget all the good things of it. As it is said, the good things often top the bad things.

         The university in which Nico was studying was a big and old building. There were still some students going around the campus, even though it was a Friday evening. The sun was shining directly on Martino’s face and his hair, which made his hair shine as if it was made out of gold. Martino got up to the student’s apartments and made his way to the building that Nico was living in. To his surprise, the door to his apartment was wide open and there were noices coming from the inside. He got up to the door and almost bumped into an unkwown person hurrying from the apartment.

” Oh sorry, Marti”, the woman in front of him said and smiled. She had dark, brown hair and the widest smile Martino had ever seen, obviously apart from Nico’s. Nico’s smile was the widest and the most heart warming thing Martino had ever seen. And he would do anything to get to see it as often as possible.

”I’m Natasha, by the way. Nico’s flatmate”. Natasha then offered her hand and Martino shook it, now smiling too.

”I’m Marti, as you already seem to know”.

”Yeah, I have heard a lot about you. I feel like I know you already!” Martino looked at Natasha a bit confused, still smiling. Had Nico talked about him? What had he talked about? Martino’s train of thought got stopped once again when Natasha told her that she needed to catch a train to Bracciano. She was going to visit her parents. They said quick goodbyes and Martino made his way into the apartment.

         Martino had been in the apartment a couple of times before already. It wasn’t that big, but it was still cosy. The lights in the hallway were turned off and the sun shone inside through the windows making shadows on the walls. Martino headed for the kitchen. It was all very clean and the dishes had been washed, to Martino’s surprise. Normally he was the one cleaning. But then again, it could have been Natasha who had washed them, and not Nico. How would he know, he didn’t even know her. He had literally just met her for the first time. Next to the kitchen were two doors: one to Nico’s room, and the other to Natasha’s. The doors were built similarly, but that was the only thing similar about them. Natasha’s door had only her name written on it, whereas Nico’s door was full of drawings and texts. One of the drawings was a giraffe, with two people riding it. On top of it it read ”the last men on earth”.

         Martino opened the door to Nico’s room carefully, not wanting to scare him. He was supposed to be there two hours later, but he had taken the earlier train because he couldn’t handle being without Nico for another two hours.  Nico was on his table with his headphones on, only the table lamp on. Yet it wasn’t dark, because the blinds were open. The rays of the sun shone directly at Nico’s back. It made his whole body look angelic, his black curls to beam brightly. Martino could see that Nico was drawing something judging by the way his hands were moving. They were moving smoothly, as if drawing lines. Martino approached Nico and looked over his shoulder in order to see what he was drawing. He couldn’t take a closer look at the drawing, because the table lamp made a shadow of his face on the paper and Nico noticed that someone was standing behind him. Nico took his headphones off quickly and turned around confused, but only a millisecond later his face turned into a wide, genuine smile. The smile that Martino loved.

”What time is it? Did I lose the track of time? I was supposed to come to get you”, Nico said quickly, looking qenuinely quilty.

”No no no! I took the earlier train because-”, Martino felt his cheeks turn red,  ”because I missed you so much”. Martino lifted his gaze and saw Nico smiling fondly. For a second they stared into each other’s eyes, as if to study the other. It still had been three weeks since they had seen and when they finally saw each other, they wanted to try to memorise every single little detail about the other. It’s amazing, and scary, how much you can forget about the other in that short of time. Where the marks on other person’s face are, how they’re eyebrows go when they concentrate. Nico then put his had around Martino’s neck and pulled their forehead together softly. For a second they breathed each other in, as if to memorise even the scent of each other.

         Nico’s face was the most beautiful thing Marti had ever seen. The way his eyes were shut when he was asleep, to how his face grew into a wide smile. He could never get enough of him. They were now laying in Nico’s bed. It was a lot smaller than Martino’s own, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. This way they could be even more close to each other. And they were. Martino’s body was literally attached to Nico’s, and he could feel Nico’s steady heartbeat against his chest. Nico was still asleep, and Martino couldn’t help but run his hand through his face and move the strands of hair falling onto it. Slowly Nico’s face grew into a smile.

”What do you think you are doing?” asked Nico fondly. Martino didn’t answer, but instead kissed Nico softly on the lips. Martino then broke the kiss and they both layed there for a while, in total silence. Nico then put his hand around Martino and pulled him closer. They were totally tangled up together now, as if too scared to let go of each other. As if the oher could disappear, if they didn’t hold on enough tight.

”Nico…” Martino said, breaking the silence. Nico only hummed for an answer, too comfortable to move or even to speak. To Nico’s disappointment, Martino moved his arm away and climbed up to face him.

”I wanna tell you something.”

Nico then opened his eyes at Martino and looked at him.

”You can tell me anything.”

Martino looked Nico deeply in the eyes.

”Do you remembet that poem that you once sent me?” Martino took a short pause, ”after Milan”. They had talked about what had happened in Milan, but it still was hard to talk about, especially for Nico. That’s why Martino tried not to bring it up too often.

”Yes, of course I do. What about it?” Nico answered, something about his voice changing.

”Ehm...the first time I read it, none of it made any sense to me. Well, to be honest, I read it many times but I still couldn’t understand what it meant”.

Martino took a pause to study Nico’s face. It had turned into a lot more serious than before, as if waiting what was to come.

”But a couple of days ago, when I was going through our old texts, I came across that text again. And I don’t know why, but suddenly it all made sense.  I know you say that I should stop apologizing to you about what happened after Milan but please, let me apologize this one time.”

The seriousness in Nico’s face had lessened a little, and Martino continued.

”I think the reason that I didn’t understand the text at first was that I refused to even try to. And I’m so sorry about that. I wish I had listened to you and…well, things could have gone totally diffe-”

”Marti”, Nico suddenly stopped him, ”It is okay, I mean it. It was a very confusing time to you too. It is no wonder that none of it, or the situation itself made any sense to you. But now we are here, so let’s not worry about what has happened once, and focus on the present, okay?”

”Okay”, Martino just answered. They were both staring at each other. The atmosphere had changed a bit, but it wasn’t as serious as it had been a minute ago. Suddenly Nico started smiling.

”What?” Martino grinned, now sliming too.

”Well, the poem is very simple, if we really start thinking about it. And believe me, the time I sent it to you I really thought about it. I just can’t help but wonder, how on earth did it took you almost a year to understand it”, Nico said sarcastically, ”And you claim to be wise”.

”I am very wise!”, Martino protested, laughing. The atmosphere in the room was now light, as it had been before. Martino looked at Nico, now smiling thoughtfully.

”But in the end, aren’t giraffes kind of like our thing?”

”What do you mean?”, Nico answered, curious.

”I mean, didn’t you talk about how you would ride a giraffe if you were the last man on earth. And then you sent me that drawing about us riding a giraffe. And then the poem.”

Niccolo seemed to consider Martino’s words. Shortly after his face turned into a wide grin.

”Guess where we have to go this summer”

”To someplace warm?”, Martino said hopefully.

”To the zoo” Niccolo stated.

”To see a giraffe?”

”Absolutely”

The both of them started laughing. Nico then moved closer, just so that their noses were touching each other’s and they could feel each other’s breathing.

”I love you”, Nico said, looking Martino straight in the eyes. They had told that each other many times by now, but there was still this feeling in Martino’s stomach everytime Nico said those words to him. Well, nobody else had ever said those word to him, at least not in the meaning that Nico meant them.

”I love you too”, Martino answered, almost whispering. Nico put his hand on Martino’s face and moved the strands of hair that had fallen onto his face.

”I’m going to go and make us something to eat”, Nico said, pressing a quick kiss on Martino’s lips and getting out of the bed, despite Martino trying to hold on to him and telling him he wasn’t hungry and trying to keep him in bed.

”Fine”, Martino said, realising he had lost the fight, ”But not tabasco, okay?”. Nico turned around and grinned at him, leaving the room without saying a word. Marti thew his head back into the pillows, feeling too comfortable to get up. He layed there for a while, until he used his last strength to pull himself out of the bed. He took his phone from the table and saw that it was already almost 8pm. He then started leaving the room, but a drawing on the table caught his attention. He walked to the table to take a closer look at the drawing. It was a giraffe. Martino smiled to himself, taking out his phone. He opened his camera and took a picture of it. He then took one more look at the drawing. Maybe giraffes really were their thing.

You made it this far, congrats! This is my first fic here on Tumblr and I would appreciate it a lot if some of you could give any kind of feedback! Maybe in the future I’ll write more, who knows. And I know this is probably annoying to say, but English is not my first language, so there are some errors for sure. Sorry about that! Hope this made someone out there smile even for a bit, that’s more than enough for me!

[jzixuans]

For the fic title: ‘Light of my Life’?

right but this title is rlly cute 

inspired by the line, “Ma vie est monotone… Mais, si tu m’apprivoises, ma vie sera comme ensoleilée.” from the little prince. (the english translation doesn’t fit as well:  “my life is monotonous… but if you tame me, my life will be bathed in sunlight” or smth)

under the cut bc it got long

-

   Logan’s life is plain. He’s grown numb to the ever-stagnant routine. Wake up at six am, brush teeth, make coffee, go to work, come home at four, read a new chapter of his book, make dinner, wash dishes, perhaps another chapter if he’s up to it, and get ready for bed at nine forty-five.

   Time moves differently when nothing changes. Faster, slower, not at all. He stops keeping track after the fourth year of monotony. There’s not much worth paying attention to, anyway. 

   The change is almost unnoticeable when it happens. He’s coming out of his usual coffee shop when he nearly trips over a man handing a ten dollar bill to the homeless woman huddled under the window. 

   “Thank you, young man,” she croaks, voice ragged and hoarse from begging unwilling passerby. 

   “It’s the least I can do, ma’am,” the man replies. His light-hearted tone is nothing out of the ordinary, but there’s a gentleness to it that has Logan stopping and reaching for his wallet. By the time he fishes out a crumpled five and drops it in the woman’s cup, the man is already lost in the swarm of people going about their lives. 

   He doesn’t see the man until a week later when he’s taking a short cut through the park on his way home from work. 

   “Aw, who’s a good boy? You are! Are you lost, cutie?” 

   Logan wouldn’t have paid him much mind if he hadn’t heard him speak. Just a few feet ahead of him, crouched in the snow, was the man, bundled up in a thick scarf and hat, ruffling the fur of a soaking wet German shepherd. 

   He inches closer and the dog’s golden collar glints in the sunlight. On the other side of the park, Logan can see a man in a bright red jacket with his hands cupped around his mouth. He taps the man on the shoulder. 

   “Excuse me, I believe Prince belongs to the man in red over there. He’s known for getting off his leash.” Logan says. The man turns his head to beam at him. 

   “Oh, thanks for telling me! I better go return him then!” The man gives the dog one last muddy hug before taking off, Prince bounding happily after him. 

   Logan finds himself lingering a little longer than usual, watching Roman get tackled by Prince, landing on the ice in a giggling mess. There’s a spring in his step as he walks all the rest of the way home. 

   He’s at the library the next time he sees the man, long after the snow has melted. The man is sat in the middle of a ring of children as he reads from Eric Carle’s The Very Hungry Caterpillar, not more than a few desks down from where Logan is typing away at his computer. The children gasp and giggle in delight and Logan can’t help but smile into his coffee. Kids don’t normally interest him, so perhaps it’s just the man’s sunlit presence. 

   The man looks up and locks eyes with Logan and the two share a fleeting smile. Logan knows it’s impossible for his heart to skip a beat, but it feels like it does anyway. 

   The man’s at the coffee shop again, at the park, the library, the book store, even just walking around the same block where Logan lives. They don’t talk, other than a brief, “Hi, how are you?”, but they soon fall into a routine and Logan comes to look forward to their little run-ins. 

   And then the man disappears for a couple months, and Logan can’t quite put his finger on why it feels like there’s a gaping hole in his chest.

   He drops a couple ones in the old woman’s cup outside of the coffee shop for the man, gently ushers Prince back to his owner after a slobbery kiss on the cheek, watches from afar as a group of children pester the poor librarian at the desk, demanding to know where their favourite community reader went. 

   The days drag on and Logan finds himself wondering how he ever managed to deal with his boring, unchanging life. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does, in all honesty, but that thought doesn’t stop him from missing a stranger that he’s never even held a proper conversation with. 

   It’s spring again when he walks into the coffee shop for what has to be the twenty millionth time. Everything is in full bloom, the sun is shining, and the heavy clouds plaguing the city have finally dispersed. 

   “The usual?” The barista, Virgil, as he’s come to know, asks. 

   “Yes please,” Logan says, reaching for his wallet. 

   “No, please, let me get that,” someone behind him says, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “A medium peppermint tea, please and thank you.”

   Logan spins around to protest and comes face to face with the man he’s spent so long missing. Same warm brown eyes and fluffy brown hair, round glasses and splash of freckles. Same light-hearted voice and playful smile. 

   “No, no, it’s quite alright, you don’t have to―”

   “Too late!” The man grins, slapping a ten on the counter. Logan sends Virgil a pleading look, and the barista just shrugs. 

   “Sorry, dude. I think you lost this one.” He says. There’s a long line growing behind them, so Logan can’t do anything other than shuffle over to the side while he waits for his drink. The man bounces on the balls of his feet and glances around the shop. 

   “Long time no see,” he says, almost sheepishly. 

   “Indeed,” Logan replies, like he hasn’t been looking around the corner everytime he leaves his building, searching for a man in blue who might never return. 

   “Yeah, I had to go back home for a family emergency.” The man explains. 

   “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope everything is okay,” Logan says, and he winces at how incredibly insensitive he feels. 

   Virgil places their drinks on the counter and the two thank him, then make their way out the door. 

   “Could be better, but it could be worse, too.” Silence falls over them just as they reach the crosswalk. 

   “The children at the library missed you,” Logan says, in a weak attempt to ease the tension. The man laughs. 

   “Oh yeah? I’ll have to pay them a visit sometime this week.”

   They’re almost at Logan’s office building when the man smacks his forehead. 

   “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” He exclaims. Logan doesn’t have any time to ask him what for when he turns to him, holding his hand out to shake. “I’ve never introduced myself! I’m Patton.”

   Patton. Patton, Patton, Patton. Logan’s never going to let himself forget it. 

   “Logan. Nice to meet you, Patton.” He says, shaking his hand. They come to a stop outside of Logan’s building. 

   “Likewise! I’ll see you around, Logan!” Patton waves. 

   Logan can’t help the small smile tugging at his lips as he watches Patton skip away, apologizing to several people as he bumps into them by accident.

   Patton. Patton, Patton, Patton. The man that brought a little bit more colour into his black and white life. 

- 

this is incredibly unedited aklsjdhskjf 

send me made-up fic titles and i’ll write something for it! (requests close on sunday (feb 3rd))

[arsvitayoungjae]

Hide - The Beginning

Song Request: School Life - Stray Kids

The sound of my alarm goes off and surrounds the whole room. Somehow, I managed to lift my hand to turn it off lazily, but that didn't stop it. I kept on resisting, still tired from watching too many KDramas the night before.

"Good morning, sunshine!" A loud voice erupted from my front door.

"Shut up, Jeonghan," I mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. "It's much too early for you to be here."

"Early? What do you mean early?" Jeonghan chuckled. "You only have forty minutes to get ready for school."

I bounced up and scolded him for not telling me sooner. I grabbed my towel and ran to the bathroom. After around 20 minutes, I was done and fully-dressed. I didn't usually put on makeup but since it was the first day of school, I decided to put on powder and a light dab of liptint. I raced to my living room, seeing Jeonghan sitting on the sofa comfortably. As soon as he saw me, he got up and grabbed my arm.

"Let's go!"

•••••

Today is my first day of school. I'll be attending my dream school, The School of Arts and Entertainment in Seoul (or more popularly known as SAES), for the very first time. I had a really tough time in my old school as a freshman, so my mom let me transfer schools. She wanted to make up for all the things that had happened to me on my first year, that's why she took me to my dream school.

I found out about SAES when I was in ninth grade. They went to my school to introduce their own school to those who could be interested. One of the speakers was a student from JYP class - Nichkhun Buck Horvejkul. He seemed unreal to me. He is too handsome for a human being. His aura was too high class. But what attracted me the most was his wise words. He was a great speaker and he kept on saying inspiring quotes. What separated him from other speakers was the fact that his speech was clearly unscripted. His words have completely captured my heart.

I decided to enter SAES for high school without any doubts. Me and my best friend, Yoon Jeonghan both took the entrance exam. He effortlessly passed, but I didn't. I was late for the test and didn't even get the chance to answer at least half of the questions. Entrance exams for transfer students had an expensive fee to pay, but my mom worked hard to get enough money for it. I couldn't thank her enough. Because of her, I was now at SAES, my one and only dream school.

•••••

As soon as we got to the school's quadrangle, a large group of girls started to surround us. They kept calling on Jeonghan, asking him to sign autographs and such. Much worse, others were begging him to be their boyfriend.

"Didn't know you were popular," I whispered to Jeonghan. He just laughed in reply. I wiggled out of the crowd, not wanting to be part of it.

"Y/N, don't leave me!" He overreacted.

Instead of helping him, I decided to just walk away and pretend to not know him. It'll be a struggle if his fangirls find out.

I stared at my class schedule and looked around for my first class. I was too focused on the piece of paper in my hand that I didn't notice the voice beside me. On his probably fifth time calling me, I finally looked up at him.

"Hi," he began with a smile revealing his adorable dimples. "I'm the school council president Kim Namjoon, but most people just call me RM. I rap. Also, I'm a junior from Class Bighit."

He held out his hand for a handshake and I gladly accepted. I bowed to him and apologized for my carelessness earlier.

"No, it's okay. Are you new here?"

"Yes, actually. I'm a sophomore from Class JYP."

"Oh really? I have a friend from there, but he's a junior. C'mon, let me take you there."

He led the way and I followed him. It was awkward walking alongside Namjoon-sunbaenim since heads turned to look at us everytime we passed by the hallways. Not much time later, we reached the classroom.

"Thank you so much, sunbaenim. I hope I can repay you for your kindness." I said with a ninety-degree bow.

"No, it's good. That's what I'm supposed to do."

"Namjoon-ah, who is this?" I turned around and saw the one but not only Park Jinyoung PD-nim. My heart pounded fast with nervousness. This was the first time I got to see him face to face.

"Oh, Mr. Park, this is..." Namjoon-sunbaenim turned to me. "I haven't got your name?"

"I'm Y/F/N. It's an honor to finally meet you, PD-nim. I'm a fan." I bowed to him. He beamed and soon after, he and Namjoon-sunbaenim bid their farewells to each other.

"Are you the new student?" PD-nim asked as I nodded in reply. "Let's go inside."

Being escorted by really special people today feels really weird and uneasy, but I guess it helped me feel welcome.

I followed JYP PD-nim to the classroom, where he had me stand in front with him.

"Class," the class settled down when he spoke. "This is Y/F/N. She is our new student. Be friends with her and guide her, okay?"

"Yes, PD-nim," the class replied in unison.

I sat on a free seat near the back. To my right was a brown-haired boy with chubby cheeks and on the other side was a black-haired girl with spectacles. I didn't feel good on my seat because the guy kept staring at the girl. In front of me was another girl with slender eyes and behind me was a guy who looked similar. They were really pretty, to be honest.

I lost my train of thought when the girl beside me tapped my shoulder. I got a better look on her appearance. She was bubbly, but a little timid. She smiled when I looked back at her. Her smile was pure. I like her. She seems interesting.

"Hi, my name's Yumi. I'm a vocal," she excitedly told me. Her smile then dropped as she moved her head to look at the guy beside me. "Jisung-ah, stop looking at the new girl. I know she's pretty, but I'm worried your eyes might pop out."

I turned to the guy I believe was Jisung. He snickered, showing off his adorable smile.

"Shut up, Yumi. I have eyes for only one girl," he said with a cheeky expression.

Yumi whined because she said she still didn't know who the girl he's talking about was. Jisung just laughed in reply.

He held his hand out for me to shake. "My name's Jisung, a rapper. Nice to meet you."

The handshake was discontinued when the guy behind me stole my hand from Jisung's.

"I'm Hyunjin. Dancer. Let's be friends." He smiled with his eyes. His face was much more attractive up close.

"That's rude, Hyunjin." Yumi scolded while Jisung just giggled.

The girl in front of me turned around. She seemed annoyed by the noise.

"You guys, stop bothering Y/N. You're too noisy." Her angry face briefly changed to a soft smile. "I'm Yeji. I'm a dancer."

"Done with introductions, I guess?" Our teacher interrupted. "Settle down, kids. I'm Mr. Lee and I'll be your homeroom teacher for the whole year. It's nice to meet all of you, talented children."

Mr. Lee proceeded to the lecture. I wasn't really able to concentrate properly since Yumi and Jisung kept bickering every five minutes.

This turned out better than I thought. So far, I'm enjoying my stay here at SAES.

masterlist

[poison-shark]

Noa’s Siblings

[[MORE]]

Mateu Eduardo Ramires

Is 7 years older than Noa

Is Atlantean/ Portuguese/ Amazonian/ Japanese

Only exhibits the human and Atlantean sides

25 in season 3

ADHD

Has a deep resentment for his parents for being addicts, alcoholics, sub par parents, and also dying

Deeply respects Noa and treats her like an equal, despite the age gap, but still sees Aya as a newborn

Is very overprotective of both of them

Got mad at Aya for going to study on Themyscira and Noa for allowing it

Thinks Obachan is just a crazy old lady

His personality is a lot like their mom’s, but his morals are closer to their dad’s

Basically looks like he could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll

Looks a lot like their dad, but has their mom’s eyes

They’re a deep brown almost black

Noa is jealous of them, she hates her hazel eyes because they remind her of Ren

His hair is always a tangled mess

Is studying magic in Atlantis

Cried when he met Aquaman

Managed a way to get surface tv channels underwater and never misses a Coast City Clippers game or one of Noa’s concerts

Is frustratingly straight and sometimes forgets his sisters are not

“So meet any cute boys at school? If so, who is he? Where does he live? Who are his parents? What’s his number? I just wanna talk!”

“Noooooooo?”- Noa

*blank lesbian stare*- Aya

Is still super supportive and apologizes everytime

Even though she’s younger than him, Noa raised him

He didn’t realize at the time what was happening and how it was affecting her

Called Noa for every little thing his first year in Atlantis

But when he realized his little sister had taken care of him for the past 5 years of his life, including 1 year of adulthood, and he didn’t know how to do anything

He regrets putting her through so much pressure

Was not the person who realized this

That was brought about in a conversation with Queen Mera and Aqualad that turned awkward

Has not stopped apologizing since

It’s been 5 years

Still has not stopped

Reminds her he’s sorry once a FaceTime

Bonds with his sisters through surfing and basketball

Hates all lanterns of the emotional spectrum, but green

Especially red and blue

Has gotten really good at magic

Has always been good at magic, but like Atlantean party tricks his dad taught him

They used to cheer the girls up

Their dad had only begun teaching him serious magic a year before he died

When he got to Atlantis he realized just how far behind he was

Got specialized training from Queen Mera

Faced Atlantean “Purist” discrimination for his skin and fins

Caught up on five years worth of magic in a year

Is now training to be an Atlantean Ambassador under Garth

Is a social activist in Atlantis

No longer cries when he sees King Orin

Actually babysits the little prince every once in a while

Is protective of Queen Mera a views her as a second mother

Would never tell her that

She already knows and has already mentally accepted him as her other son

Is trained in combat

Not only by Mera, but also their parents

They were paranoid and knew their kids would be in danger, so they all knew some form of self defense, except for Aya

Dislikes superheroes in general except for Aquaman, Tempest, Wonder Woman, and the Green Lantern Corps

Loyal to his country, his heritage, and views green lanterns as space cops

Ren Elpídio Ramires

Dead

Died at age 7

Was best friends with Noa

Even though he and Noa can’t be identical twins they looked almost the exact same

But y’know with scales

Looks takes after all sides of his heritage

Shy boi

Also anxious

Like all the time

Despite the super strength and speed he was always super gentle and liked to take his time and enjoy life

Dyslexic

Always had trouble reading and writing, but loved stories

Noa used to read him to sleep from the top bunk

He was a really good storyteller and had just as much imagination as his sister

They would come up with grand adventures and Noa would write them down while he drew the pictures

They were comic books

Ren loved comic books

And superheroes

Specifically Aquaman and Wonder Woman

And of course the mighty and brave blue, red, and green lanterns of Sector 2814

Had trouble making friends in school so Noa made them for him

He had a really bad stutter

Got picked on a lot for a lot of different reasons so Noa got into a lot of fights

Loved insects

He cried when Mateu tried to force Noa into killing a spider (I know spiders aren’t insects don’t come for me)

Noa set it free outside

A cuddler and a hugger

No one is safe not even the mailman who he knows by name

Hides behind Noa whenever yelling happens

Yelling happened a lot some months, none others

Was terrified of Aya

Had never seen a baby before

She looked like an alien

Freaked him out a little that’s all

Warmed up to her soon enough

Cried when she cried

Her crying used to wake up both him and Noa at 2 am, who would attempt to wake up their parents to deal with it

Their attempts were waved off

“Let her cry it out”

They did not

Noa would remove the newborn from the crib and rock her while he fixed her bottle

He was too scared to drop her to hold her

Noa would burp and change her and they’d both sing to her until she fell asleep

Was the only other person in the house other than their mother who could handle Aya’s grip

I like to think if he hadn’t died he’d have joined the Indigo Tribe (lanterns of compassion)

Now for the sad part

Their parents had dropped them all off at Obachan’s house as she was their closest relative

All the little ones knew was that they had to go on a ‘work trip’

Thought Obachan was silly and old and reminded him of his mom

The first day was great

She fed them ice cream for breakfast and pizza for lunch and sushi for dinner and let them stay up late and eat wasabi candies for dessert

The next day was not so great

The twins woke up at 1 am puking their brains out and running high fevers

Obachan panicked and didn’t know what to do

She was drunk and didn’t want Akari to never see her grandkids again

The other day she didn’t know she had grandkids

She wanted her daughters trust back

Even if Akari did live Obachan would not have earned her trust

She decided she would drive them to the hospital like a good grandmother and left Mateu to clean up and look after Aya

She was uber drunk and exhausted bc even kind of dealing with two barfing 7 year olds is the most parenting she’d ever done

They came to an intersection

She ignored the red light

She didn’t see the flat-bed

The truck couldn’t stop

It t-boned the tail end of the car

The crash caused Obachan and Noa to fall unconscious and gave Obachan some serious neck and back issues

But the impact snapped Ren’s neck instantly and his limp body fell onto the middle car seat

Hazel eyes wide

The twins were still loosely holding each other’s hands when the paramedics came after another driver passed by and found them

The other driver involved in the crash was flung through his windshield bc he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt

Noa came to briefly while being carried into an ambulance

She looked at the lady carrying her and asked, “Ren?” Before passing out again

At the hospital when she had been treated for everything she woke up again with a start calling for Ren, her parents, Mateu, anyone, but mostly Ren

Obachan hadn’t woken up yet

The nurse who came in asked her for as much information as Noa knew or could remember

She answered every one and asked a thousand in return

The nurse finally told her that her brother had died

She threw a fit

They couldn’t calm her down she screamed and cried so much she puked again

They had to sedate her

When they told Obachan her first thought was of how Akari would never speak to her again

He was buried with his parents in the Coastville Cemetery

Noa visits by herself every Sunday and lays flowers down and talks to no one

Aya Emi Ramires

Well, that was depressing now here’s the baby!!!

Aya was 3 months old when everybody died

In season 3 she’s 11

She takes after her Amazonian heritage

Dyslexic and ADHD

Sees Noa as basically her mom

Doesn’t agree with Mateu a lot, but respects him

Also has their mother’s eyes which tortures Noa

Generally reminds both of her siblings of their mom and of Ren

She doesn’t know that, but that’s part of the reason they’re so overprotective

Noa raised her to have fun and enjoy life and not take shit from anyone

Is really good at sports

This is encouraged by Noa who is literally the captain of the cheer squad

Gets made fun of and picked on by a lot of kids both boys and girls for her strength and speed, her learning disabilities, being Japanese, and being gay

Yeah

Aya gets into fights a lot

Noa shows up to the elementary school with Obachan who pretends she can’t speak English

Noa’s former principal is now afraid of her

Aya’s outlet for anger is sculpting believe it or not

She’s pretty talented too

Isn’t really into superheroes except for green lanterns and Wonder Woman, Troia, and Wondergirl

Gets bad grades even though she’s incredibly wise beyond her years

Doesn’t get along with kids her own age

They bore her

Figured out she wasn’t straight pretty early on with a crush on Molly from Bubble Guppies when she was four

Noa also kinda normalized girlfriends with her sister talking about girls and boys at school she had crushes on

Realized she was probably a lesbian in 3rd grade when she realized she wasn’t growing out of her boys are icky phase like her sister had

Confirmed 5th grade lesbian

Does not like being treated like a baby

Eventually the question came up about what happened to their parents at family dinner

Obachan steered herself out of the kitchen right when she was about to enter it

Mateu curtly and accurately responded with, “They died.” Before tossing the dishes into the sink and sulking off to his room, slamming his door shut

Noa explained the best she could to the 5 year old, but it was hard for a 12 year old to form the right words

Also informed her of Ren in a very watered down way

Aya knows Ren existed and was Noa’s twin, but doesn’t know exactly how he died

She’s seen their comics though

Noa used to read them to her

Mateu used to stand outside the door secretly listening and trying not to cry

Is very affectionate with Noa

Will hug and cuddle her until she falls asleep

Noa forgot how rib-cracking Amazon hugs were

She’s glad Aya’s there to remind her

Aya mildly resents Mateu for leaving for Atlantis

More for leaving Noa to handle her alone

Is just as protective of her siblings as they are of her

Worries about them constantly

Especially Noa bc she’s human

When she turns ten she decides she wants to study in Themyscira where she’d be better accepted than her normal school

She was right

A lot of thought went into that on her part

Noa’s music career was skyrocketing, she had school to think about, extracurriculars, scholarships, taking care of Aya, taking care of Obachan, taking care of the cats, handling the shop, putting out new music, new videos, photo shoots, socializing with her friends, charity benefits

It took accidentally overhearing Noa have a breakdown to actually set her mind on the Themyscira decision

She brought it up to her sister who was heartbroken and the idea brought up a lot of Noa’s insecurities, but in the end Noa said yes

Noa set the whole thing up through her new friend, Garfield Logan, who was more than happy to help

Aya lives with their great-grandmothers on Themyscira

She was happy to see that they were 10x more stable than Obachan

She studies all the classics, receives combat training, has been learning Ancient Greek, and her skill with dealing with her learning disabilities has improved and even aided her in some subjects

She FaceTimes her sister everyday and Mateu every month when he checks in

She watches every one of her sister’s concerts even during training, and which she gets reprimanded for

Has asked her sister if she can meet celebrities

Noa says next time she visits she can meet whoever she wants

Her hair has lightened to a lighter brown from being out in the sun all of the time

Has entered both the dreaded horse phase and dolphin phase

[justmewoo]

Dirty Little Secret |eɴᴅᴇᴀᴠᴏʀ x rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ|

I was naive falling in love with you. But maybe a part of me wanted to believe everything you said.

"wнen тнe тearѕ coмe ѕтreaмιng down yoυr ғace  'caυѕe yoυ loѕe ѕoмeтнιng yoυ can'т replace  wнen yoυ love ѕoмeone вυт ιт goeѕ тo waѕтe wнaт coυld ιт вe worѕe?" -coldplay.

_____________________________________________________________

"Did you ever feel that magical spark inside you everytime we made LOVE?"

How did it end up like this? Why did I let him treat me like garbage? Only used me so he wouldn't feel alone. I was naive and stupid thinking that maybe one day he would change to become a better man but, I was foolish for such a wish like that. I fell head over heels to ever think it would happen. Maybe somewhere deep inside of me had that tiny little hope. I could still remember those hatred words he yelled before leaving the hotel room where we last made love. 

"If  you don't want to loose that scholarship that I PAYED for, you better keep your mouth shut. You're nothing but a foolish girl who's only good at sleeping around with heroes for money. Forget we ever met and go back to your pathetic life. I never want to see you again." Those were his last words. Yet after such a long time I can't seem to forget them. 

It's true that if it wasn't for his help I couldn't had gotten into a good college. But he was wrong about sleeping around with other heroes because the person whom I lost my V card was him and no one else. He's completely insane if he thinks I sleep around with others especially heroes. I was only a freshmen when that argument took place and the last time I saw him. He said he was going to pay for the scholarship every year but he lied. Once the second semester was over they inform me that no one had made a payment for the second year. 

I got two part time jobs during summer vacation but it still wasn't enough to pay for the second year. So with all my heart I had to drop out it was impossible for someone as a simple civilian like myself to pay an extreme amount for a college that wouldn't had turned me into a hero even if I wanted to. But for someone like myself who comes from a small middle class family living outside of Tokyo could never get a fair opportunity like that ever again. 

I had no other choice but to return back home and help out my mom with taking care of my sibilings. My mother remarried with a man named [D/N] he's a kind and gentle men who loves my mother very much. Despite him not being my biological father he's always supported me and my crazy ideas. My mom and him had two little girls. One is eight years old named Akari while the youngest one is five years old named Himawari. 

My biological father passed away before I was born so my step dad adopted me as his daughter giving me he's last name. It's been at least two years since i've been living with my family. I was nineteen years old when everything fell upside down. But I have turned twenty one a few months ago thankfully living here has been a great environment for me. My family has helped me get through it and I hardly think of him. They don't know anything about my secret relationship with Endeavor and they probably never will at least that's what I used to think.

I know work at a elementrey school where my both sisters attend. I'm a teacher's assistant for fourth graders. Both my parents used to ask me about why I dropped out of college when I was so excited about attending. Of course I had to lie and try my best to dodge the question but of course they both knew something was up. But respected my privacy and space so they stopped asking. 

"Ne, sister are you going to the field trip with us to U.A. University tomorrow?" [I AM HAVING THE CHARACTERS INCLUDED IN THIS FANFIC SO EVERYONE WILL BE THE SAME AGE AS THE READER.] Himawari asked glancing at me as all three of us walked down the street holding hands together. 

I smiled down at her. "Of course I will hima your big sis will be with you all day tomorrow." 

Akari snorted. "That's not fair why can't you come with me it's not the same with mom." I stroked her hair. "Don't be mean Akari mom is fun at fieldtrips. When I was your age she would always sit with me in the bus along with all my friends." 

"What's so fun about that? It sounds pretty lame to me." I pinched her cheek. "She would use her quirck to make magic tricks." I released my hand from her cheek. While she rubbed her red cheek and continued walking. 

"Alright, you have a point there mom's magic tricks are pretty cool. Wow look at that look sis it's him!" Akari pointed a finger at the televisions from a store on our right side. I turned my head to Akari along with Himawari running over to the glass window where other people passing by took a glance or ignored it and continued on with their day. 

"You guys we are going to be la-"

"Just In the Number Two Hero Endeavor has done it again. Earlier this morning he captured one of the villains whom was on the most wanted list for killing several people around Tokyo. There are a few casualties but nothing to serious luckily civilains could now feel free to walk around the street without feeling scared look there he comes now. Mr. Endeavor Sir can we get a word!." The reporter and cameras all gathered around Endeavor with the villain tied in a rope. Endeavor crossed his arms smirking at his surroundings and directly to the cameras. "Mr. Endeavor how did you managed to captured such a villain who was on the search for almost two years." He asked placing the microphone over to him. Endeavor took a step forward to the camera and spoke. 

"It doesn't matter how he was captured all you need to know is this villain will not hurt another civilain he will be in jail for a very long time. The Number Two Hero will always be here to proect everyone that's my job as a hero." Endeavor walked away from the reporters making them chase over him to get another interview out of him. The screen turned black and people cheered including my two younger sisters. The small crowd that was gathered around the small shop disappeared one by one. 

"Endeavor's so cool don't, you think so sis?" Himawari asked running over to me as Akari followed behind. 

"I know right! When I grow up I want to become a hero just like him!" I snapped my head towards them. I clucthed my hands near my side. 

"Don't you ever repeat that again do you hear me Akari you could never be like him and you will never meet him ever! Now come on we can't be late for school." The rest of the way to school it was silent both girls know not to talk back when I get angry.

Once arriving to school Akari walked away from us to her friends leaving himawari and I alone. Hima glanced at her sister then back at me. "Why did you get mad at us big sis?" She asked hugging my leg staring me back with those big brown eyes of hers. 

I looked down at her then back at the ground. "Because...." 

"Do you not like Endeavor sis? Because you never get mad at us often Akari is sad because you yelled at us but, we didn't do anything wrong." 

I shook my head kneeling down to her height. "Me not liking.... him has nothing to do with me getting mad at her I promise." 

"Then why don't you go apologize to her?" She sure isn't making this easy maybe I should apologize to her. I just wish she wouldn't look up to someone who doesn't know the true him. Underneath all the fame and glory he doesn't give a crap about anyone. 

"Himawari i'm here what do you want." Akari stood next to hima. 

"Big sis wants to apologize to you now do it quick i'll leave you two alone." Hima ran away over to her friends. Akari kicked a pebble with her shoe ignoring eye contact with me. 

"Listen I shouldn't had yelled at you. I was just angry because you ran off without my permission and took Hima with you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you okay...... and about what I said forget it you have the right to look up at any hero you want just please... choose someone better like All Might or Best Jeanist. Don't you think Enj- Endeavor is always grumpy and doesn't like other's company. Do you want to be like him? And talk like this. I'm Endeavor and am the number two hero. I get so angry that I burn myself with my own quirk." I spoke trying to immitate his voice. 

Akari laughed shaking her head. "Not anymore I want to be like All Might because he always smiles and saves people with a smile!" She yelled. 

"See people who save people with a smile are a lot kinder than those who can't never seem to smile." The bell suddenly rang indicating its time for class to start. 

"I promise to take you and Hima for ice cream after school now hurry before you get late to class." I hugged her from behind planting a kiss on her forehead and released her. 

"what about me sis." Himawari came running towards me hugging my waist and gaved her a kiss on the forhead too. "Hurry Hima i'll see you later." Akari waited for her little sister and walked inside the building together. I made my way to the other building of the school. 

FLASHBACK:

It was during summer break before attending my first year in college when I had a planned a big surprise for Enji. I had bought brand new yukata's for couples. Enji's yukata was inside a big blue and grey box with a light baby blue bow. I placed the box on the brown table in the middle of the living room with a note attached to his present. I took a shower and got ready to meet him at the festival before he came home from work. I had asked him earlier today what time he would get home and said around six if nothing important came up. Once I was fully dressed I took a quick picture and saved it before grabbing my purse and exited the apartment. 

When I reached the outside of the building the sun was settling down. A few patches of the sky had a colored of pink mixed with yellow indicating summer time was just beginning. The air was warm yet fresh at the same time. A big smile was plastered on my face as I walked down the street alone admiring the great afternoon many couples walked ahead of me wearing yukata's or kimonos holding hands together walking next to each other. As I walked behind the adorable couple's I couldn't help but imagine how my relationship with Enji would be if he wasn't a pro hero or yet.... married. I was his lover after all there's no way I could ever become his girlfriend. 

I wiped the tears that where slipping out of my eyes before it ruined my make up. I continued my way towards the temple where the festival is being held in. When I reached the temple the sun was no where to be seen but the beautiful night sky filled with stars and a full moon makes everything light up. The festival was full with people standing at the food stands ordering food or walking in a group.

From kids to teenagers to even old people are enjoying the festival. I was the only person who was on her own but I knew soon it will change when Enji gets here. Speaking of Enji he should had gotten home already maybe I should call him. But first i'm going to go get something to eat. I skipped happily at the caramel apple stand to buy an apple. After buying the delicious apple I decided to call Enji and see if he's gotten the surprise. I took my phone out of the bag and dialed Enji's number while taking bites of the apple while I waited for him to answer. 

After the fourth ring he had finally picked up the phone. "Hey, Enji are you home from work yet." I spoke between chews. 

"Yes i'm outside the building where are you, what's that loud noise in the background?" He asked annoyed. 

I smiled enjoying the great atmosphere. "Just go inside the apartment there's a surprise waiting for you." 

"What the hell are you talking about. I'm walking inside now." I could hear the sound of keys and the closing of a door. After a few seconds I could hear him dropping off the keys on the table where the present is laid out for him. "A blue Yukata? why did you buy something I don't wear, where the hell are you." 

I giggled. "It's for you silly I want you to wear it right now and meet me in the festival that's near by..... I was thinking that this could be our first d-

"I'm not going, we aren't a couple your my lover get it through your thick skull how many times do I have to repeat over and over again for you to understand that we aren't in a relationship. I never did this crap with my wife and am not going to do it with you." 

My lips quiver the apple I was eating seconds ago lands on the ground getting covered in dirt all over it. The atmosphere around me fell suffocating I want to cry and screamed at the world. "B-but E-En-ji I wanted to... I thought w-we could spend time together like any couple." 

"We aren't a couple gosh darn it [Y/N] can't you understand what I just said! Do you want the entire world to know about my affair with an eighteen year old! Do you want to ruin my career!" Enji growl throught the phone. 

"But Enji-" 

"No buts! You know what i'm going home I don't want to see your face today!" Enji hanged up the phone before I could speak again. 

"But I love you Enji....." 

Enji had used his quirk to burn the blue Yukata and threw the box away ripping it in pieces. He grabbed his belongings and left to his house. When I got back to the apartment the place was a mess. There where pieces of burned clothing everywhere. The placed reaked of fire but when I realized the burned clothing was the Yukata I gave him my tears had finally fell. 

"[LAST NAME] Sensei you're crying are you alright?" My memory came back to school. The voice of a student brought me back to reality. 

I wiped the tears that I didn't know I was crying and smiled back at them. "I'm alright just got something in my eye maybe its this air that causes me allergies but go on continue doing your work so you can go play with your classmates." They nodded and continued to do their classwork while I spaced out again. 

"I keep telling myself I will forget about you but it's impossible because you will forever be my first love." 

________________________

Thank you for reading this fanfic of Enji. I apologize for the bad grammar and mistakes. English isn't my first language so writing could get a bit difficult. Another thing dont bring any hate because I know not everyone likes Endeavor. Thank you for reading see you next time! One last thing every character from Izuku to Tenya will be the same age as the reader so in their early 20s. And U.A will become a University. 

[easkyrah]

Aeonian Part 3

part 1 here  •  part 2 here

I apologize for the wait. It’s here and a full fledged ten pages on Microsoft. Your (monthly) nessian infused with greek mythology.

Tags: @katgirl05, @latinafangurl, @nicoletapink, @maachan-is-hungry, @literarynonsense, @aqueenpromised, @16ozamericano, @hierophantangel, @miss-phengophobia, @samaykay912, @bluephoenix222, @yellow-spiraledbook, @hashtolanashoba, @erwin5253, @jjellybean, @daeniran, @rowanismybae, @bloodshednesta, @illyrianinterrasen, @sarahjtrash, @midnightbluhm, @chocolateserialkiller, @herladyshipxx, @willsrune, @deezrmuhsheeple, @goldbooksblack, @dreamingofazriel, @sskoob

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed! Large thanks to @books-andhot-chocolate for beta’ing :)

Aeonian 3

I don't ever wanna be someone who will never recognize themself I don't ever wanna be someone hollow from the inside out This could be all we've been looking for This could be all we've been waiting for — The Score, Don’t Wanna Be

I. Nesta poured herself a cup of coffee, watching the steam spiral through the air, her palms turning red from the heat. The room she found herself situated in had everything she would have ever wanted, all for the perfect excuse to remain holed up in this place. Bitter, rich beans for servings of dark liquid, a library chock full of thick books, and a wide bathtub filled with steaming water...perhaps it was a ploy by the God of War to tempt her more than she already was. 

Nesta brooded in the dark chambers, running the pads of her fingers along the silky, black blankets and smooth mattress. She’d woken up alone, curled up in fetus style, a position she had long abandoned as her father did to her. To resume such comfortable, near childish posture of limbs meant her body felt...safe. 

She’d had to research how Gods and Goddess affected her conscience later. Yet a small part simply knew it wasn’t from the blood of immorality, but the tugging at the back of her mind...the claimed bond reverberating, tethering her to a being beyond mortality, and thus arguably, morality. 

Her toes slipped under satin material, soft against her skin. When she’d asked Elain who’d changed her clothes, the younger sister had merely blushed and shook her head, saying it wasn’t her. Nesta had balled her fists and searched for body for any marks—but there was none, save for the words carved into her mind. 

“Only you,” Elain breathed. “Would attract attention from the God of War.” And it was another God who’d taken their younger sister from them. Heavens forbid if she’d let Elain reach the same destiny. The revelation of the falling of family had slowly wormed into her, and had finally found its roots. “Nesta,” Elain said, staring at her turned head. “We’re together. We’re alright.”

Alright.

Nesta didn’t feel alright. 

She could still feel the sands running all over her, feel the dirt and grime, the blood from her own mouth stuck in her throat. Gaps and scars found home in her body, and everytime she closed her eyes, she could see the torches flaring that taunting, flickering light trying to douse her over and over again. 

Village after village had ousted and isolated her after they tried to break her down to be one of them: officials, constables, or anyone with a greater rank than the bourgeoisie ordered to drown her in bills, anchor her with lies, or throw her overboard into a sea of piranhas. And when that hadn’t worked, Ianthe had delivered the final straw—burn her in a pyre.  

Nesta sat still in her blankets. Did society not know that when the sea drained her, the air inhaled her, and the fire incinerated her, the wind always blew the ashes back to the shore? The scars on her skin ticked as a time testament to humanity and the sacrifices she would slave at the altar no offering of gold or ambrosia could afford. 

Everywhere she went, she was sought out. With weapons, with ire, with malice. And she reciprocated all that in her own rightful wrath. Elain reserved no part of the vicious cycle, and with Ares’s hint to take her somewhere safe, somewhere so another piece of her family wouldn’t have to fall prey into immortal hands...

“How long have I been out?”

A pause. Then—“A week.” 

Nesta didn’t wait a heartbeat. “And you’ve been here for a week?” The cold edge in her voice sent shadows scattering at the edges of her vision. “Alone?” 

A part of her was glad that the God of War had left her sister by herself, but another part of her silently seethed���her deal to allow the God to claim her came with the contingency he’d protect Elain...not leave her alone to her own innocent devices, which when exploited—as Nesta had been in that barn three years ago—was sometimes more dangerous. 

Elain smiled, a ran a finger behind a lock of hair. “Mostly. But for the times I ventured out, I’ve met the most...kind, albeit silent, man.”

Man—God or not?

The hair on Nesta’s skin prickled, and dark shapes seemed to scatter at the peripheral of her vision. She rapidly blinked, and then spat out, “You are in the residence of a God. One of the twelve Originals, in fact. Did you not think any of his associates would have their blood run with immorality as well?” Nesta could only think of the names of deities that Ares aligned himself with, most with bloodlust that would blind her other sister. 

“I try not to think of myself as Ares’s mere associate,” a voice returned, and Elain’s face went beet red. The eldest Archeron spun around, and stared at a man with not that signature smirk, but with…

...a slight smile, hazel eyes absorbing her appearance. A cold but not cruel expression coated his face. High cheekbones and elegant features, Nesta supposed he’d fit in right with the gentry. Except that the sheer slope of muscles against his collared shirt, and the scars over his neck that slivered all the way to his hands, severe red marrings that showed money could not cover everything—

—he arched a brow, perhaps waiting for Nesta to scream, to faint, or to...act like any other woman he’d no doubt crossed. But the Archerons were anything but delicate and Nesta had mastered her own emotional scars. 

“Interesting,” the man said, and tucked his hands into his pockets. 

His dark eyes blinked towards Elain, who twisted her hands—an action Nesta knew all too well Elain did when she was nervous. But if her younger sister wasn’t running away in fear, and stood in the presence of this male, much less in the house—

A feeling of serenity washed over her, the constant pressure at the back of her mind webbed in a cocoon of fear and anxiety ebbing away. The shadows that seemed to dart at the corners of her vision dissolved away, and seemed to be in her mind, soothing, a crooning of calmness.

This tranquility didn’t belong to her, and Nesta felt a feeling akin to panic rise within her, a thrashing serpent that beat out the pacifying peace loitering. 

The eldest Archeron scrutinized the male in front of her. Attention seemed to dart off of him, and Nesta had to focus in order to concentrate on the male who had enchanted her sister. 

“How?” she demanded.

The man seemed to understand her question. “I am—” he paused, as if he expected Nesta to know—and the fact that she didn’t had her silently seething. 

Elain offered them both a ghost of a smile, and skipped to Nesta’s side. But her eyes were not on her, but—

“I am Erebus,” the man said, whose eyes connected with Elain’s rich-brown ones, as if Nesta wasn’t in the room at all, her fists clenched. The man wasn’t a God or a mortal. He was something much more primitive—

“—Titan,” Nesta spat.

Those warm, hazel eyes darted from the younger Archeron to her, turning into something much more of a darker shade. The light seeping in from the windows turned pitch-black, wings of stygian fluttering around the room. The furniture of the kitchen blinked away into shapeless fragments, and a high-pitched whistling pierced her ears. 

Elain’s hand immediately snatched hers. “She’s not a threat.”

“Excuse me?” Nesta snapped. Erebus wasn’t just any other Titan, but—

Elain tried, “—he may be a primitive Titan, born of Chaos, and a personification of darkness, but—”

“—I am her bodyguard,” the Titan sulked, and the hurricane of streaks of shadows whirled to a faster crescendo, the hair on her arms prickling. “Upon a favor Cassian called in.” 

“Cassian?” Nesta demanded, clutching Elain’s arm, her senses running haywire, unable to see, unable to think—

“That would be me,” a voice boomed, and the darkness sucked out the window within a heartbeat, the sunrays pouring into the room.

Elain blinked a storm, adjusting to the light, but Nesta’s own steel orbs pinned onto the God of War who had seemingly appeared into existence in his full armor, a sight that had her more calm than Erebus’s tricks.

“Interesting,” the Titan said again. Elain’s squeezed Nesta’s hand. 

But the eldest Archeron couldn’t take her eyes off the scope of the bronze that hugged his frame well. There was something about seeing him in the daylight than the frigid, frozen, and foulness of the night where unspoken deeds transpired. The red jewels, seven of them to be precise, glowed brazenly, white rays of light bouncing off each facet—

“Done ogling?” the God smirked, crossing his arms, looking utterly pleased. His stare irked her to no ends, and if he thought he was worth that and more his self-inflated ego staked itself, then he was wrong.

Nesta dismissed his with a glance and turned to the primordial deity, equally repeating her question: “How?”

A snarl came from the God of War’s direction, and Nesta could imagine the scowl on his rough hewn face when the Titan didn’t pay him a second glimpse either. 

“You must remember that I am not the original Titan. While most have been deceased, I’ve gotten in the good graces, you could say—” The God of War snorted, but Erebus paid him no mind. “—of another one of the Twelve Original Gods.” The Titan swallowed, and his eyes flitted down to his hands—or the lack of them, securely snug within his pants pockets.

“That’s enough,” Ares snapped. “That’s his story. It’s not pleasing.”

“Nor is yours,” Erebus returned quietly, which was somehow more lethal. When Ares’s hazel eyes flashed, he added, “But when are the immortals’ stories ever—” Nesta felt his eyes on her “—pleasant, mortal or not, Cassian?”

Something inside Nesta twisted, and before Cassian could reply, she said to the Titan, “I’m sorry for overstepping.”

A hint of a smile flickered across his face, and he gently shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m Azriel. My name before I inherited Erebus’s...powers and duties, to put it simply.”

Any other male would have offered their hands to shake, and any other female would have grasped it willing. 

But they were not any other. 

Cassian coughed. “I’ve assigned Az to protect your sister, as part of my claim per your term.”

“And Az promised to take me to the woods to gather flowers, a rare breed in this area,” Elain chirped. 

Flowers. 

Nesta felt something at the back of her throat. Elain had stopped collecting flowers ever since Feyre had been stolen from them, gone with the wind. But now—Nesta didn’t even dare start to comment on the fact that Elain called him Az, as if he were more than an acquaintance. 

She watched the Titan dip his head in Elain’s direction. “As my lady wishes.” He slipped his hands out of his pockets, and Elain gave her a small smile before walking into his embrace. In a flash of darkness that swirled in a spiral, both disappeared.

“That’s called winnowing,” Cassian said. 

Nesta stared at where the Titan of the Night had disappeared with her sister. Rosiness had been on Elain’s cheeks, and the way the male had freely showed his scarred hands around Elain…

“Interesting, huh?” the male said, a bit of blade in his words, mocking Azriel’s former ones. He ambled towards the fridge, as if it hadn’t been coated in sheer blackness before, and pulled out a carton of milk. Snapping off the cap, he gulped down a huge sip, wiped off the remaining white on his lips with the back of his hand, and held out the jug towards her. “Want some?”

Nesta sunk into a rough seat, fingers running over the familiar fabric of hard leather. A sigh unwillingly escaped her mouth, and in a flash, the God of War was in front of her, the seat groaning as he took a spot next to her. 

“Are you...hungry?” he asked, and by the hesitation in his voice, Nesta knew he wasn’t insinuating anything else except for the blueberry muffin cupped in his palms. 

II.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel there was so incredibly wrong with this house that seemed to have everything she wanted. Before she could open a window in the drawing room, it had miraculously swung out by its panels, a little bit of the afternoon warmth seeping in. 

After waiting for Elain’s return—like a dog waiting for his master, as Cassian had put it, before Nesta had dropped a plate on his toe, and he had meekly slouched off—she’d fallen asleep in the library. 

As she stretched her arms, her book fell off her lap. The curtains had fallen over the windows, and when Nesta snatched them back, she realized it had grown dark outside. Picking up her skirts, she walked around the house, lights flickering on wherever she walked past. 

Spotting a glow of light under one of the wooden doors, she pressed the book against her chest with one arm, and used her other to twist the knob. She poked her head in, expecting Elain to be potting plants, her skin dusted with soil, but instead she saw a sight for sore eyes.

The God of War, Ares—Cassian—laid lazily sprawled across an enormous bed of black satin sheets. From his back stretched wings—large membranous and massive arching things—that slightly twitched when Nesta opened the door. His entire toros was on display, from the sinewed shape of his coiled arms to the rugged slope of his shoulder blades down to the abdominal muscles displayed over his chest. The blankets tangled over his lower portion, and a low groan parted from the God’s mouth, his tongue darting across his peeled lips. 

She swallowed thickly, and retreated faster than a lightning bolt, and shut the door with a soft click. 

To see the God of War so completely exposed and vulnerable left a sour residue on her mouth...but for the larger taste, she had felt—

“—Nesta?” a soft voice said, and Nesta squinted through the darkness until the familiar flare of lights in the house turned on.

Elain stood in front of her in the middle of the hallways, dirt on her arms and leaves in her hair. Her skin was not the normal porcelain, and her features had softened. She was glowing, and she looked healthy.

“Are you lost?” she said, and nodded her head in the other direction. “I can show you your room.”

Mutely, Nesta trailed after her sister, and plucked the thorns from her hair. “How was your day?”

Elain immediately perked up, her brown hair more golden. “We’re hidden in a place coated in magic and such by several of the Twelve Originals. All but two have forgotten about this place—Ares and the one who gifted Az with his status.”

Gifted, Nesta mused, and watched Elain’s fingers rub the dirt from her hands. “So the plants here have been overflowing and teeming, thriving for Gods who knows how long. Needless to say, they have evolved with some protections—”

Elain touched her unblemished wrist “—I accidentally cut myself, but Az healed me.”

Nesta stared at Elain, who rambled on about her day. Azriel, Titan of Darkness and Shadows, made her sister, the framed fragile fawn, the flower-grower, and the ever gentle heart, more than happy. He’d restored Elain to the state of how she lived before Feyre had been taken. 

If he left—

—Nesta’s own twisted. For Elain’s happiness, she would remain claimed by the God. When Elain opened her door, Nesta tossed the book Claims and Curses to the corner of the room. To see the smile on her younger sister’s features was enough, she told herself. She wouldn’t try to break the bond, the claim. 

Elain skipped to the armchair near the vanity, and daintily sat herself onto the cushions. She stilled for a second, and then shuddered out: “But that wasn’t it. The woods were not completely empty. There were hunters, and even Azriel didn’t know how humans entered this magic protected area.”

“Can the Titan not take care of the threats himself?”

“There’s something else that has been running around the trees have been whispering, Nesta.” Elain whispered, and the eldest Archeron flinched at fear in her eyes. When the fair-haired girl reached out, Nesta quickly crossed the room, and kneeled in front of Elain, taking the her shaking hands without question, trembling fingers intertwining with Nesta’s cold ones. 

The younger Archeron sister heaved a deep breath. “Tomas has been claimed by a God.”

The eldest Archeron sister stilled, knees locking, holding her own breath.

“That’s not all.” Elain mumbled. “He’s looking for you—Nesta Archeron.”

White light flashed across Nesta’s eyes, and when she blinked, she wasn’t in the candle-lit room with Elain in front of her. Instead, she was at the church in the first village where she had stayed, where her father had made her last offering. 

III.

A week before

“Witch,” Tomas sneered. “She’s a witch!”

“Can you provide proof?” the magistrate, a white-haired elder dancing near death’s feet, croaked out. Frail, trembling hands rolled the head of his staff around wrinkled skin as he leisurely reclined back against golden cushions.

“Easy,” the younger male begun smiling, his sharpened face smoothing out.

“Burn her. The fire doesn’t harm her. At all.” When the magistrate didn’t answer, Tomas added, “The first time I made her cook for me and she knocked over a heated pot in anger or clumsiness. The flames underneath should have given her more than third-degree burns. It didn’t. Then I started ‘accidents’ to test my theory. It’s true.”

The older man froze, still, contemplating Tomas’s words. The grandfather clock tolled twelve times, each ring filling the expanse of the church, casting a cover of ancient tranquility. His eyes glazed over the dusted pews, and his hands gripped his staff firmly. 

“Well?” Tomas said impatiently, eyes darting around. “Witch. Our rules say to execute them.”

Brows slowly furrowed and stitched together, and the older man slowly rose. Tomas retreated a step down from the base of the platform, and watched the magistrate’s Adam’s apple bob. “She isn’t a witch, Mandray,” he said solemnly.

“Witches burn. But a demi-god does not.”

Tomas’s beady eyes narrowed, and his fingers clenched. “I am not equipped to take down a part-God abomination.”

“No,” the magistrate exhaled. “You are not. But being demi-God yourself would even the scales, and I am familiar with a plethora of Gods looking to bring down an Olympian—Ares especially.”

Tomas began smiling again, and slowly, the tension released from his body. “Consider the scales already skewed. Ianthe and her goddess have already begun arming themselves.”

The magistrate looked up to the dome of the church as Tomas, ignoring the old man’s mutterings about prophecies and seers, stalked out.

IV.

Nesta was silent, clutching Elain’s hands desperately. Then she broke the fragility in the air: “How did you show me that? When could do that? How did you know?”

Elain looked down, rubbing her thumb over the top of her hand. “I—I don’t know. I was crouched in a bush, which is where I got all the thorns, and recognized the hunters from those in our first village. And seeing them—just triggered that vision. When they turned away, I ran and Azriel swooped in—he has wings, did you know that?—and asked me what happened. I just touched one of the blue stones of his armor—you know how Ares has red ones?—and I could project that past vision to him. After that, he dropped me off back here and went away to investigate.”

Nesta collapsed onto the floor. There were so many questions, the least of which observing how Elain called the primordial Titan by his nickname, and the God of War by his title. But Tomas—Tomas was after her.

“Is it true?” Elain whispered. “That fire doesn’t burn you?”

Nesta let out a dry laugh, and ran a hand over her face. “Yes. And you have these—conjured dreams while awake?”

“They’re more like nightmares,” she whispered. “But yes. The magistrate said we were demi-Gods…”

Nesta voiced the unanswered question: “Then what curse did Feyre have that had a God or Titan snatch her from us?”

A/N: Aaaand that’s a wrap! The next part will incorporate the ideas that I promised to add! I’m keeping each part of Aeonian about ten pages on my draft.

[become-the-story]

Different - Park Jimin 001

Words : 4229

Genre : Merman!AU

next | moodboard

I apologize for any grammatical or mistake in general, please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language 

This is the story of a lonely merman named Jimin, Park Jimin.

From the day he was born, Jimin was different, unlike every other merman or mermaids, Jimin was curious about land people, curious about how was life outside of the water. He has always been told not to approach any land people, that the outside of water world was dangerous and that no merpeople under any circumstances were allowed to be near the shore. Jimin didn't understand that rule, how a world could be so dangerous if no one knew anything about it ? But the rules were the rules, and he couldn't do anything but respect it.

Years after years, Jimin would go as far as he was allowed to, away from the pod to collect stuff, land people stuff, making his interest in the outside world even bigger than it already was each time. Most of his treasures were jewelry, a few rings, some of them in a pretty good state, while others were slowly rotting due to their time past in the salt water, there was plenty of necklaces too, one of them was his favorite find of all time, a simple shiny silver chain that suited perfectly his platinum blonde hair and his midnight blue tail. Jimin would sometime find pictures too, family pictures, kid pictures, people sitting on that green floor, with their legs crossed joined by sweet smiles or laughing faces.

Jimin would often lay in the sand, at the bottom of the ocean to stare at those pictures, wondering how life was, how having legs felt like, how walking felt like. But he never could wonder for long, since everytime, Jimin's best friend, Taehyung could swim around him at full speed wanting to play, making sand fly everywhere in slow motion, blinding Jimin for a few seconds.

And that's pretty much how every day would end up, Jimin would come back to the pod with Taehyung, stuffing the new treasures he found during the day in a brown thingy that he used to carry everything around.

But everything changed one day, the day Jimin turned 21.

At the age of 21, merpeople didn't have any limit as to where they could swim, they could swim to the next ocean if they wanted, the only rule that stayed the same was the rule concerning the shore. Now that he was an adult, the rule was even more strict.

“Any adult merpeople getting too close to the shore, going there, or being seen by any land people, getting our race in danger, would get definitely banned from the pod, and the said pod would have to  find a new safer place to call home”

But stubborn as he was, this didn't stop him. Jimin thought that while everyone was sleeping, he could sneakily escape the coral reef without anyone noticing, so that's what he did. He took his little brown catchall with him, and made his way to the nearest shore, his minds full of apprehension and excitement.

The distance was quite big, because the farther the pod was, the safer it was, but Jimin was one athletic merman, who could swim quite well and fast without getting tired.

The closer he got, the higher got the bottom of the ocean.

For the first time, Jimin popped his head out of the water, and he immediately got fascinated by what he saw.

When he looked up, he saw the sky, it was pitch black with sparkly white dots all over it. He must have stayed a good ten minutes staring up at the sky, in pure fascination.

He doesn't know how much time he stayed his head outside of the water, but his hair had dried out already, and he had the time to picture the beautiful place inside of his head. He didn't get to see any land people, but for a first time, he thought that it wasn't that bad. He looked around him one last time, and looked up to the sky before diving back into the bottom of the sea, a smile plastered on his face.

He managed to reach the coral reef before the sun lights cool peak through the transparent water, waking up the sea world. He expected everything to be quiet, just like when he left, but when he arrived he was greeted by a sad looking Taehyung.

“I- I'm sorry Jimin” was the only thing the merman could stuttered before swimming away in a hurry.

Not understanding, Jimin tried to catch up on his best friend, but got stopped by the chef of the pod.

“Park Jimin, you broke the law and went to the shore” stated the old merman. “We asked your friend Taehyung to keep an eye on you, he followed you tonight and made his report right after.”

“Minwoo-nim, I- No one saw me, I just wanted to look around I didn't mean to-” Jimin tried to defend himself

“What is done is done, I'm sorry Jimin, but you knew the consequences. You are now banished from the pod, we shall leave this place as soon as the sun goes up.”

And he left.

Everyone left. His parents, his friends, his best friend, everyone.

Just because of that one trip to the shore he was dying to make since he was little.

On the first days, he tried to find them, he swam north, he swam east, he swam west, for days and days, resting from time to time on the back of a ray or inside a random cavern he would share with a bunch of fishes.

Until one day, he gave up. He gave up and got mad at himself. It was his fault, his stubbornness that got him into that mess, if only he wasn't so interested in land people, if he wasn't so damn curious, at this time he would be playing around with Taehyung and dolphins.

Jimin was madly swimming straight, not caring where he would end and then suddenly stopped, looking at his catchall before throwing it as far as he could angrily shouting as loud as he could, before snatching the necklace off of his neck and throwing it as well.

Months have passed already, and he was still alone. After thinking a lot about it, he thought it would be best to come back to the only place he ever called home, the coral reef. And that's what he did. Nothing changed during the few months while he was gone, his cavern was still there, with his favorites seashells and everything. He got teary just thinking about all the good memories he had here, with his family, with Taehyung, and he hated this part of him that made him go to that damn shore, that part of him that still wants to go there, but he couldn't fight it, it was still here, and now, he didn't have anything holding him back. So he went there again, to that same place, but this time, he got even closer, to have a better look.

That day, Jimin's heart was warm, it was a sunny summer day, and he was sitting in a little rock, right behind a bigger one, which was hiding him, but still allowing him to see what was happening on the other side.

A family, like the one he saw many times on the pictures he found. There was a male, and a female holding a tiny human in her arms. They were laughing, having fun, running with those things they called legs, playing in the sand with the little human.

Little humans were definitely Jimin's favorite, even more now that he actually had the chance to hear the cute sounds they could make, the little giggles.

Jimin was happy. For the first time in a long time, he no longer had an aching heart. Because he knew that it was worth it, to see what he was seeing, to learn what he was learning. And maybe, just maybe, if he managed somehow to have the proof that humans aren't dangerous, he could go back to his loved ones, or make them come back here, to their real home.

Due to the summer heat, the shore was pretty crowded during the days, so Jimin could only go and take a look early in the morning or late at night, and that day was no different.

He came back there when the moon was already high in the sparkly dark sky, he swam slowly toward the shore, when he saw someone approach, making him dive suddenly in fear. He lost no time and swam toward his usual rock to take a look at the person.

It was a girl, she wasn't that tall and had long beautiful black hair. Even if Jimin couldn't see much from where he was, he could still tell what she was doing. She wasn't different from the others during the day, she took the things covering her feet off before walking slowly in the sand, taking in the beautiful scenery in front of her.

She then sat close to the water, and just stayed ther.

He didn't know how long, but his tail and hair had the time to dry out, making him feel slightly uncomfortable, but this didn't stop him from staring at the girl.

After what felt like hours, the girl finally stood up in a hurry and ran toward the warm water. Jimin couldn't really tell what she was doing, but he was pretty sure she was picking up something.

And she was.

Before he could see what it was, Jimin felt the bottom of his body itching, something he never felt before. When his eyes landed on his lower half, a scream of terror escaped his plump lips, and with a swift movement of his hands, he managed to dive back into the water just in case the girl would have heard him.

He never swam this fast before, his tail was hitting the water almost angrily, his mind was confused. Was he just tired ? Maybe all this swimming was affecting him after all ? Or maybe not ? Maybe it was real. When Jimin was back on that rock, completely dried from head to tail, he saw legs instead of his usual tail full of scales. The exact same legs the landpeople he always watched had. His mind was probably playing tricks on him.. Or was it ?

You always liked the beach, you didn't know if it was the relaxing sound of the waves that comes crashing against the shore, or simply the salty smell of the ocean, but you loved it. You would come there very often, after a stressing day or when you were sad, because that place had the power to make you feel better. Today was no different, an usual saturday during summer break, you would try to come by the beach you loved so much, but couldn't stay, with all those kids screaming everywhere, it just didn't feel the same. You loved kids, the problem wasn't there, of course not, but something just didn't feel right when all you hear is cries and screams instead of the calm sound of the water.

So you decided to leave, and come back later on.

You didn't really do anything all day, you walked in the busy city without anything in mind, you just wanted to get away from everything. From the aching memories of the past months, when you discovered that your own best friend betrayed you and was sleeping with your boyfriend behind your back, or the fact that your parents decided to suddenly move out of town, leaving you behind, saying : “you are an adult sweet heart you don't need us around you all the time, you have an apartment, you will enter college soon, you will be just fine, but if you ever miss momma & papa just come to us, you will always be welcomed here. We love you y/n”

College, one of the million things that were stressing you out these days. You were entering college, with an art major. You always loved art, painting, drawings, and you were also pretty good at it, with an amazing inspiration, maybe this was why you loved that beach so much, it was always such an amazing source of inspiration.

The day went by pretty fast, so fast that when you looked up at the sky, the moon was already there, next to the hundred of stars next to it. By now, the beach should be empty, so you made your way back there and arrived rather quickly.

You arrived there and started taking your beige sandals off, putting them down so they won't get taken away by the waves, and started walking, feet into the water. Soon after, you decided to sit down, to take in the mesmerizing scenery in front of you. The reflection of the moon onto the calm water always appeased you, so you just stayed there, a little smile of satisfaction splattered on your face. Until something sparkling caught your attention near the shore. Curious as you were, you quickly got on your feet and went into the water to pick whatever that was.

When you put your hand into the chill water, you heard a strange noise, a kind of muffled scream, scaring you a little bit, which made you go back into the safety of the land.

You sat back down to the exact same spot you were before, and examined your little treasure. Much to your surprise, it was a magnificent jewel, a simple silver necklace, that looked really nice despite it's time passed in the salty water of the ocean.

Without thinking much about it, you put the necklace around your neck and left the place to go back home.

Summer went by in the blink of an eye, and without even realizing it, you were already sitting in a classroom with a bunch of other people that were all majoring in the same department as you. Art. Day by day, you experiences new classes, like history of art, or 3d modeling, but your favorite period was definitely painting/drawing. It just let your mind go wild, and you're able to create beautiful pieces, with basically every techniques, watercolor, normal paint, heck even with just a pencil your work always had the others watch you with admiration.

One windy winter day, all your classmates were reunited in the art room, forming a circle, apparently watching something. You could hear some of the girls in front of you saying :

“Oh god Lisa do you see him, he's so handsome !”

“I know look at that jawline, craved by god himself i'm sure !”

Before you could ask any of them what was happening, your professor started talking.

“Good morning guys, so today as you can see, we have a special guest, he's a dance major that accepted my invitation very nicely, I present you your new living model for this week's project ! Please, introduce yourself to the class young man” the professor said, backing away, so that everyone would focus on whoever that guy was.

You managed to push a girl a bit to the side, to actually see the said guy, the guy that you would have to paint, or draw this week, and you were actually shocked when your eyes landed on his figure.

He was handsome, that's the least you could say. He had beautiful platinum blonde hair, slightly parted which let you see the little mole on his forehead, and then his eyes, his eyes were a deep blue, as deep as the ocean, you were sure that you could drown into them if you'd stare a little too long. His nose was small and cute, and his lips were plump and shiny. He stood up to introduce himself, that's how you noticed that he wasn't that tall, but he wasn't small either, he was the perfect size. Before you could examine him more, your mind went blank when he started speaking.

“Hi ! My name is Jimin, Park Jimin, I'm 20 years old and like Mr.Yu said, I'm a dance major, and I'm rather new to this school, so please, take good care of me~” he ended up his presentation with a sweet smile that made all the girl almost faint.

Everyone started introducing themselves to the new guy, while you, you got a little farther away, and sat down on a chair, taking out your personal sketch book, and you started to sketch a little something, his eyes.

You were almost finished when you got interrupted by someone yanking your sketchbook out of your hands.

“That's really nice, you're really talented”

You were ready to yell at whoever that rude person was for taking something from you with such force, but when you lifted your head, you were met with a sparkly eyed Jimin.

“T-Thanks, you, you really have beautiful eyes I just wanted to draw them… I'm sorry it might sound creepy, oh god” you started covering your face, starting to feel ashamed by your action, which made him laugh, ah his laugh, it was a sweet giggle, almost child like, it was really cute and charming.

“Nah don't worry about it ! I agreed to be the model of this class, of course I don't mind you drawing me ahah ! Oh by the way, I think you might be the only girl who didn't introduce yourself to me ? Do you not want to ?” He asked, tilting his head, a slight look of confusion across his face.

“No of course not !” you were quick to respond. “My name is Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you Jimin” you handed him your hand, for him to shake it, but he didn't, he just stared at your hand, apparently not knowing what to do, so to avoid any awkward situation, you scratched the back of your head with that same head quickly after.

“Well Y/N, I'm looking forward to your project ! Please draw me well~” He cooed cutely, flashing you one of his many cute smiles, before being almost scared of the bell ring. “Oh oh oh, looks like I'm gonna be late to my Modern dance class, well Y/N, see you soon~” and he ran off of the room, leaving you with a simple shy smile on your face.

Suddenly, you were also looking forward to this project.

He couldn't think about anything but you all day. Of course he knew you were that girl he saw on the beach this summer. You were beautiful up close, and you had such a soothing voice, he wished he could hear it all the time. The thing that also caught his eyes when he met you, was your necklace, well his necklace technically. He couldn't actually believe that you managed to find it, when he threw it in the middle of nowhere deep down into the ocean. He was sure it was sign, a sigh that you were the one, the one who'd be able to help him get back to his pod, the proof that humans aren't dangerous, that the only difference between the two species were only the legs and the tails.

Now his only goal, was to get to know you, to befriend you. He wanted to know more, about you, about humans, and that was exactly was he would do.

It actually didn't take long, a few weeks after the project was done, he grew closer to you, and he genuinely started to like you, not only for you to help him, even if you refused he wouldn't be mad, he's just glad he got to meet you and be your friend.

As the days passed, Jimin was wondering if it was time to tell you the truth, time to reveal his true identity to you, to show you his home, the ocean. As all the scenarios of what could possibly happen clouded his mind, he grew more and more nervous.

“Jimin-ah, are you okay ? You seem preoccupied” you asked him, looking concerned.

Jimin sighed and looked deeply into your eyes before saying : “Do you trust me Y/N?”

All you did was nod, and that's all it took for him to lead you to the beach. You were confused about the sudden action, but you let him guide you nonetheless, you really trusted him, you didn't know why, because you've only known him for a few weeks, yet it felt like years, the things you both shared together, the time spent together…

Once you arrived to your destination, Jimin led you close to the water and stopped there.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, stroking his blonde hair back with his hand before hugging you tightly.

“I really hope you won't hate me after this”

And he made his way into the water. He took his shoes and clothes off beforehand and started walking into the water slowly, before diving in when it got deeper. It took him a few minuted to go back to the surface, showing you his wet hair, his deep blue eyes and his wet sparkling lips.

You didn't quite understand at first, so you screamed to him to come back, that he would catch a cold since the water must be freezing at this time of the year, but when he swam back to you that's when you noticed something.

Jimin had a tail. A beautiful midnight blue tale, that was waving gracefully up and down in slow motion. You froze in place not knowing what to say, you were surprised yet, but not scared like any other would probably be, you were curious. How ?

Then it all made sense, the way Jimin never invited you over to his house, while he visited yours plenty of time, how he would always drink with a straw, or when he accidentally got wet at school, he would suddenly run off and you wouldn't see him all day after that.

Jimin was a merman.

You didn't run off, or screamed or anything, so it was a good sign for Jimin. But you weren't having any reaction, and that scared him a little bit.

“Are you gonna say anyth-” he tried to fill the blank but got cut off.

“Wow” you said. “That's amazing, that's so beautiful” you said calmly, your eyes staring at him. “You're so beautiful” you murmured, hoping he wouldn't hear you.

“Y-You're not scared ?” he asked with sparkly eyes.

“Why would I ? My closest friend is a mermaid !”

“Merman” he corrected you laughing it off “It's merman for men”

“Oh sorry, but really this is amazing, you're truly mesmerizing” you stated, still in awe.

“Y/N… will you please promise me to keep this a secret ?”

You nodded furiously without thinking much about it. Jimin was your friend, your closest friend, in no way you would ever want something bad to happen to him, and you will now do anything to protect him and his secret.

The following day, Jimin told you everything, his story. How he always was intrigued by your kind, he told you about his family, about his best friend, about how he got banished, and why he was on land for. It was a lot to take in, since the day before you didn't even know mermaid & merman existed, but you were still listening to him carefully, taking in everything and trying to understand as much as you could.

Jimin looked really sad, talking about his family and friends, you could tell he was missing them a lot, without thinking, you took his hand in yours and started rubbing it to make him feel better.

“It's okay Jimin, I'm sure you will get back to them soon, I will try my best to help you”

Those words managed to bring back his angelic smile.

He looked at you in the eyes for a few seconds, before his huge smile faded into a small one. He didn't know why but he was drawn to you, so his face got closer and closer to yours, until your lips met his. His lips were plump and soft against yours, they fitted perfectly. You both were lost in the moment and wished it would last forever. But it ended, too soon for your liking, but you knew that it was only the first, and that hopefully there will be more.

You liked Jimin ever since you laid your eyes on him, and your feeling only grew when you started to know him, and now you were sure all you wanted was to love and protect him, and yes, he was feeling the same.

But what will happen next ? Will you be able to protect his secret ? Will he manage to go back to his pod ? You didn't know. But you sure as hell knew that you will try as hard as you could, because all you wanted was for him to be happy, whether it's with you, or back in the ocean with his loved ones, where he belongs.

Admin K

[hanminbin]

Chapter 2

You still have that same nightmare every night, Mr. Jung?The psychiatrist rambles on to Dak-ho.

Uh..yes. Recently its been happening more often. He whispered.

Why were you in the forest Mr. Jung? She asked him, readjusting her glass frames on her face.

You ask me this everytime. I was chasing after my sister. She ran into there. He says back in a exasperated voice.

Do you have an idea why you may be having them again? She asks, peering up from her note pad.

My job. I'm working on a smiliar case now. I suppose that's the reason... He sighs

Well, that does make sense. She mumbled.

Are you sure you can continue to doing this line of work Mr. Jung? It may cause an onset of unsuppressed emotions. You have been off the medication for over a year now. She replied back nonchalantly.

I promised my boss, I would be able to handle it. He said in a determined voice.

This may cause you to relapse again if you are unable to control your emotions You may start hallucinating again. Do you want that? She looked up at him in concern.

You can't deny the fact your sister's disappearance has affected you in more ways than you know. She further said.

Then I'll have to try harder then. He spoke up.

The psychiatrist looked at her clock.

Our session here is over. I want you to rehearse that mantra I gave to you before. Repeat and meditate on those words everyday. If you're condition worsens, please don't hesitate to call me. She said in a serious

tone.

Dak-ho rose from his chair.

-----

What? They let her go? Why? Why? Dak-ho pleaded.

There's unfortunately not enough evidence to detain a person. We had no other choice but to release her. Chun-hei said calmly.

That's ridiculous!!! He stammered out loud. What about her?! I thought you, above all people, was worried about her well being? Did you change your mind suddenly?

We can't force anyone to stay. Especially, when we have no significant evidence. She was simply found there. There may not even be any correlation between her and the other women found nearby. She trailed off.

Yesterday you were rambling on about her being a victim. Now today, you're saying something entirely different? Why? He shouted.

We haven't even began our investigation. Did they block it? Chun-hei? He whispered loudly, gripping his bangs falling over his forehead.He was irritated.

So there's nothing we can do at all? He looked bewildered at her response.

Nothing...She murmured. They dismissed us.

What? Dak-ho mouthed. He was stunned.

Who would have the audacity to do such a thing? He spat out.

At those words, the door slammed open.

Why does this always happen? Dak-ho thought.

In entered in a tall, handsome man with mono-lid eyes and short black wavy styled hair. He wore a long dark black coat over a white collared shirt and black slacks.

I did. He interrupted, standing between the two now

Your services are no longer necessary for the continuation of this MP case. He simply stated, glancing at them both.

Who..who are you? Dak-ho snapped back angrily.

National intelligence service. The man answered their question.

How...how can you stop us from investigating?! Dak-ho sputtered out, feeling flabbergasted.

What gives you the right? He asks the man.

The government. The mysterious man said back.

Wait a minute. We deal with countless cases like this. People going missing.. people found dead. Why does this case make it any different from the previous ones we have handled in the past? Dak-ho cut in, shaking his head.

He chewed his bottom lip. You know more? You know something we don't? He raised both eyebrows at the NIA agent. He was suspicious now.

The agent simply chuckled at his reply.

Let me handle this. Chun-hei whispered under her breath.

Excuse me. With all due respect, who are you, sir? She said in a sweet, sugar coated voice. She needed to use her appeal to get this man's attention.

Why? Does it matter who I am? The man replied. His voice was deep and smooth like that of a baritone singer. It caught her off guard for moment.His dark slanted eyes were practically glowing at Chun-hei.

Who...who are you? Chun-hei thought, taken aback by his sudden charm and alluring looks.

Of...course, matters. She manages to stutter out.

The man cocked his head to one side. He leaned forward and flashed a mischievous smile back in her direction.

Really? He teased back flirtatiously.

Chun-hei took one step back, completely dumbfounded by his reaction.

Ok. For you. I will tell you who I am. He smirked, entertained by her nervousness. He inched closer to her face.

I'm Min Chanyeol. NIA sent me. He grinned, pleased by Chun-hei's curiosity.

Why? She asks. Her eyes locking with his.

Is there something we don't know? She questioned him this time like Dak-ho.

The man tilted his head back, biting his lip. Chun-hei was unconsciously gulping. His Adam's apple and sharp jaw line was on full display for her. She felt her cheeks reddening.

Do you want water with that? Dak-ho muttered back quietly in her direction.

The man lowered his face. He cleared his throat.

This is in our jurisdiction to do so. He answered.

But what about the girl? Dak-ho interrupted. Isn't it our responsibility to protect the citizens of the public too? Isn't that what we swore an oath to?

Ah..yes. Chanyeol grinned. His eyes lighting up at Dak-ho's question.

However she's not neccessary for this case, nor is she involved. He said straight out.

How.. can you say that? They found her passed out, a couple a feet from their bodies? She looks like she was running away from something. She even gave us a statement. Dak-ho retorted back.

She has retracted her statement. The man responded back.

Impossible. Everything she mentioned it was in precise detail. How can someone make that up? He stammered out in alarm.

She was simply dreaming or hallucinating. She was probably lost there or may have gotten spooked. Isn't that how people normally react sometimes? They think they see things but in the end, it's all their head? They just simply imagined it. Isn't that right, Mr. Jung? The agent winked back.

Something was oddly familiar in that wink to him. It made Dak-ho shiver silently. He couldn't speak.

The girl is fine. We will take it from here. The man insisted. He stared back at Dak-ho. His dark onyx eyes penetrating through him.

He couldn't move. He saw himself running through a dark wooded forest, desperately searching for someone. Sister!! He shouted, his voice echoing loudly amongst the large pine trees. He paused to look down at his hands. They were covered in blood.

Dak-ho jolted back. He blinked.

He shook his head flustered at the vision.

You don't have to worry. Let us handle it. The man smirked patting his shoulder gently.

Ok? The man spoke louder, raising both eye brows at them, before leaving.

--

Hannah? Have you ate? The elderly lady asks her.

No. She sighed.

I figured that much. You haven't came in a week. You had me worried for a second. She mumbled, shaking her head.

Wait here. Ok? She winked flashing a warm smile.

Ah..yes, ma'am. Hannah said, nodded her head.

She returned minutes later with a bowl of noodles.

I went to visit a friend. Hannah lied.

Your face...your arms. The woman said quietly, looking down.

Are you really ok? She asks her, peering sadly into her eyes.

Yes... Hannah murmured.

The woman sighed, as she took a seat in front of her.

I know it's been hard for you Being abandoned by your family at such a young age. You had no mother or father by your side. You were raised by your grandmother before for a short time and then she passed away. She responded.

I know. Sorry, I'll try to come more often. She replied, ignoring her.

The woman smiled.

Well. She simply said.

----

Hello? A voice whispered in Hannah's direction. She lifted her face in confusion.

Oh. Hannah gasped.

I'm surprised to see you here. Mr. Chanyeol? She answered back.

I spoke to you at the station. Hannah recalled. You told me I could leave. That I was no longer needed?

The man nodded his head,remembering.

Would you like to take a walk together? He murmured back.

Hannah nervously nodded her head, reluctant if she could go.

Do you live close by here? He asked, smiling.

She looked away uncomfortably.

She didn't exactly know this man very long.

She didn't know if he could even be trusted.

I..uh...I realize I shouldn't have overreacted in such a way. The man spoke up.

Hannah's eyes darted to the ground.

What..is it? She interrupted him.

The man cleared her voice and licked his lips.

You...should be more careful of your surroundings, Mrs. Park. Your criteria fits the description of those women.

Hannah glanced up at him wearily.

You..you don't trust me? He asked her.

Hannah could hear her heart rate accelerating at that moment.

Suddenly a woosh of air came blowing in, it blew through her long brown hair.

It causes the man to drop his gaze. He took a step backwards. He scowled as if in disappointment.

It's not that...She stumbled on her words, knowing she was lying.

I only came because I was concerned. He said.

Baek-hyeon. She heard herself whisper in her head.

She turned around at the sound of the name.

Please. The man whispered, holding her wrist.

He realize what he was doing and dropped her wrist immediately.

Sorry..He quickly apologized.

Do you know what happened to those other women? Hannah manage to say. They showed me the photographs.

The man eyes appear to tear up at her response.

They shouldn't have. He mumbled sympathetically back.

It must have been disturbing for you to see those pictures. And you were running through the forest all alone too? You must have been afraid? I could only imagine what was going through your head at the time..He answered.

No. I barely remember anything. Hannah replied. Which wasn't an entirely a lie. She couldn't remember anything before the dark room.

Hannah recalled being in that dark room. It felt so cold there.

Am I...Am I in danger, Mr. Chanyeol?

Yes...He breathed out.

What? Hannah gasped, stunned by his words.

I..don't understand. You said that I wasn't needed for the case. That there wasn't anything wrong. Now you've changed your mind? Hannah blurted out, startling herself.

You're right. I lied. Ok? That's only because I didn't want them to be suspicious. His dark eyes flashed at her, almost in desperation.

Of what? She questioned him.

Those women who died, they were all murdered by the same person.

Murdered? She repeated. I knew that much to be true. She thought.

Mrs. Park,that person, who committed those crimes..I believe he is following you.

How...how would you know that?

It's my job. I also know because I've been watching him carefully for many years now. All throughout the Korea:Seoul, Daegu, Busan, Gangnam, and Itaewon, this man has left his mark undetected. Every time I get closer,he's always one step ahead of me. It's almost impossible to track him.

You said him? Then you know it's a man?

Chanyeol nodded his head. My mind leads me to believe so.

And you said years?

Yes...for a long time.

How long then? She asks him.

Chanyeol sighed, closing his eyes.

I..don't know.. 25...30., perhaps longer? He answered.

He must be really old then?Hannah said.

I guess so. He mumbled, ruffling through his short black wavy locks.

Somehow whenever Chanyeol was around this woman, he couldn't quite grasp his words. She was too curious and far too naive for her own good. He assumed. Her eyes were bright and full of innocence, it reminded him of someone he had encountered before in his past.

Who are you? A child's voice echoed in his head at that moment. He frowned. He shook the thought away.

Mr. Chanyeol, are you ok? Hannah asked, intrigued by his abrupt silence.

No. I'm perfectly fine. He laughed out.

You don't look it? She asked him.

You sound worried about me? Yet aren't you terrified of what will happen? I just told you what I knew...He cut in.

I'm used to it. This is how it has always been to me. I must learn to adapt to my surroundings, regardless of what happens. If I don't....then it will swallow me up whole. I have to protect myself, Mr. Mr. Chanyeol. She confessed.

Have you been lonely this whole time? He heard himself say in his head.

No! He said louder.

It flabbergasted Hannah.

You're wrong. You don't need to struggle on your own any longer.

Why? Why do you care? Hannah looked up at him.

Because, this is important to me. I want to protect you from now on. He finished.

What..?

You're wrong...He interrupted her

No one deserves to live that way. He uttered back.

I want to protect you. He finished.

[kappasigmalife]

Eternal Purgatory: Chp 6 Theres Something about Robby

Eternal Purgatory: Chp 6 Theres something about Robby

 Chris wakes up cuddled to Brendan in bed looking at his phone getting blown up by paul, asking for breakfast. Looking at the clock he sees its 2pm and rolls his eyes saying hes gotta meet up with his friends, given its Saturday and everyone wants to go to the movies seeing the jigsaw marathon. Brendan kisses chris’s forehead telling him he wishes he was coming with. Chris nuzzles up to his furry little cub and tells him hes always welcome to join, the more the merrier, so long as no one bothers to ask for money. Brendan looks at him and smiles, accepting the invite. Paul calls chris telling him to get here and feed him.

“Apologies my sweet prince, but the animals need tending too.” Brendan laughs as he smacks chris’s ass as he gets up to dress for the day

“what can I say I love what I see.” Chris raises his eyebrow and tells him of course he does considering the amount of fun they had last night and waking up to those gorgeous brown eyes. Brendan begins blushing as chris gets another text of paul needing food.

“yeah ill text you when we pick you up okay.” Chris leaves and kisses Brendan leaving him smiling and getting dressed. Getting home, chris looks around and slowly enters the living room with helen waiting for him with coffee.

“afternoon slut, how was your little rendezvous with brendan.” Chris embarrassed looks at her stupidly blushing like mad.

It was nothing, we gamed all night and got too drunk so I stayed over, nothing really happened.” Paul from the other room

“BULLSHIT!!!, I saw it all from his console.” Chris jaw drops and looks at paul as he comes into the room with one of his gfs by his side. Shocked and appalled chris looks at paul and questions what he means.

“what do you mean you saw, were you watching us?” “Oh no, everyone was watching you, all 10000 subscribers on pornhub, you guys were phenomenal .

Chris grows red in the face and races to his bedroom calling Brendan. On the phone chris is apologizing hoping that he would undersand he didn’t know what happened and that paul shouldn’t of recorded them. Although shocked Brendan reminds chris it didn’t mattera s he was amazing and that the comments prove that the same.

“I never knew you could go 5 hours baby, I loved how slow you took it, like it was from a movie and you were reading me like a book. Asking me if I was in pain or if I wanted it softer, you made me feel loved.” Chris blushes smiling

“I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what was going on, no sense of having once sided pleasure.” Paul comes in giving chris a check, written for 500 and tells him that’s his share of the profits and theres more where that came from everytime they fuck, considering many people enjoy the slow porn and actual romance. Chris just glares at paul and thinks of how much money can be made by just making love to the same person every night and grins like a moron.

“Save your load asshole, we got customers for tonight, now lets go catch the movie.” Robby cuddles with helen on the couch and reminds her how amazing being in her arms makes him feel strong. Helen reminds him that they are just starting to date but it seems like they knew each other for a long time.  the group cram into the SUV and blast metal on the way to brendans who sits in the front and paul just smirks as he says his a great performer.

“shut up I didn’t know the camera was there!!!!!”

“yeah but the moaning and begging for more sure was prevalent.” Chris ducts under his shirt embarrassed and mentions that at least they got a commission off the video. Paul tells chris that the money is to be split between the two of them as they are sharing a salary. Robby asks about why he and helen weren’t recorded and paul tells him it’s a performance issue.

“what do you mean by performance issue?”

“people wanna see a hour long movie, not a 4 minute trailer.” Chris starts laughing and looks at helen and soon shuts up.

“im laughing at my own sister in disappointing sex, god I deserve to be in hell, oh wait I live with satan already.” Paul looks at chris and smiles through the rear view mirror

“and you wouldn’t change a damn thing.” “I hate it when your right, I wouldn’t change you at all, youd be too boring.” The group get to the theater and immediately get the marathon tickets and head to the middle rows with robby getting a shit load of snacks and gorging as chris and Brendan nuzzle to the movie starting. As the scares getting deeper in the movie, Brendan jumps and buries his head in chris’s chest.

“protect me, im scared.” “its okay cubby, your in safe hands.” Chris looks at paul whos smiling at the murders and looks around as everyone else is afraid.

“are we the only ones not affected by this movie series, I just love the story, but everyone just cringes at the gore, I find it appealing and exciting how he kills next using traps.” Paul nods in agreement and looks over as helen cuddles to robby, not even flinching.

“yeah you watch this while your alive, then as a dead person you don’t get much on the matter.” Chris thinks and agrees.

“yeah come to think of it, I never been scared about these movies, ive seen them since they first came out.”

Paul nods

“same here.” Brendan puts a thumbs up and asks for chris to tell him when its over.

Everyone looks at robby, watching the movie and eating his pretzel bites as everyone waits for his reaction.

Chris whispers to robby asking when he saw the movies.

“oh I don’t remember, not much to say, love the gore and mayhem.” Helen looks at robby, then asks him what his favorite anime growing up was, only to get a shrug and ignoring the situation. As the movie lets out the group look and see robby just walking to the car the rest still dumbfounded by his reaction. Chris decides to see whats up and asks robby what his parents were like when he was alive.

“eh I don’t really know, no one remembers their childhood.” “okay, I remember every time my father treated me like garbage and how my mom turned to the bottle just to cope, you obviously got something hiding in there.” “well I just don’t know, never really concerned myself with the meaning of existence.” Brendan goes over as chris drops his jaw.

“babe, you okay?”

“I don’t know if I should be pissed, jealous, or confused, im currently all three.” Paul walks over telling chris to get in before he leaves without him. Chris jumps in the back with Brendan and looks as robby stares blankly out the window.

“you ever wonder how far the world goes, like beyond our reach are the stars and through that, vast amounts of nothing, like a fantasy world undiscovered.”

The group get to the house where chris decides to take a break from the pressing matter of robbys psyche and goes to take a nap, with Brendan joining him. While getting up late in the evening to grab some late night snacks, chris goes to the living room to robby watching angel beats crying.

“yeah that anime was sad bro, but its just anime, not like your really in purgatory…. Never mind.” “no its not that, the characters all remember where they came from, you guys did too, but I don’t, all I know is my name and barely anything else, almost like im in a drugged state.” “hey bro its okay, no need to feel off about it, you will figure it all out over time.” Robby goes on to talk about he doesn’t even have a spectral power yet and everyone else including chris has their developing while he remains a ghost.

“I know its rough man, but you need to relax, youll figure things out as time passes, were basically here for centuries.” As chris glows his hands to calm robby down, he begins emitting a glow from his eyes creating a bright flash knocking him out. chris disappears and fall unconscious. A half hour later chris wakes up on a marble floor and finds himself in an entryway of a castle only not to find anyone around. As he lingers around, he looks at the hall behind him expand to hundreds of doors and goes to look, seeing a chain attached to him leading back to the front gate labeled exit. Chris finds a wooden door with a golden knob with the image of a rat on it. When he opens it shows a currently aged robby looking at a rat by his dining hall and calls it “sir whiskers”, while a bunch of frat guys laugh at him. The door reminiscent of smelling like lavender leads to a meadow where robby is shown hiking, getting bitten by a snake. Chris finds a chained door with no handle with a warning on the front labeled (NO ENTRY). Hearing crying, chris backs away and follows his chain back to the entrance that has been left partially opened. Looking back the halls appear black and slowly residing away as if withering, hearing chains, chris runs through the open gate in the front and leads to a massive light shining before him and appears outside of the castel and back home. Going back to bed, Brendan asks what took him so long and Chris replies with a friend who needed him. Chris gets up once more and brings robby to helens, and tells her that she should really be thankful for all he is.

“there's something about him hidden deep in his mind, but forcing your way in is devils work.”

Helen becomes confused and asks what chris means, chris points to his watch.

“3am sis, no way were doing that.”

[huffleluff]

ghost of you

this is an amalgamation of several prompts for laura hale appreciation week. i wrote this…in much less time than i usually would, and the last 8.5k words or so were written over the last four days, so apologies for any weirdness and/or errors that you find in it. also, ngl, the angst got a little out of hand sooo sorry for that too.

available with full tags on ao3 | laura hale/lydia martin

***

Not everyone exposed to the same traumatic event reacts the same way. That’s what the matronly social worker had said to Laura over and over in the weeks following the fire that killed most of her family.

Laura repeats that sentence to herself as she watches the faces of her remaining family at the memorial service–reminds herself of it when Peter says the family business needs him to stay in New York for a few months, a single suitcase at his feet. When Cora announces that she had been accepted into a study away program in South America for her last two years of high school.

It is harder to accept the changes in Derek.

Even though Laura and Derek aren’t identical, it’s impossible to miss the fact that they’re twins. There’s the physical resemblance, of course–dark hair, thick eyebrows, and a prominent, straight nose. But it’s more than that, or at least, it used to be. They both take their coffee black. On family pizza nights, they’d order a large pizza with pineapple, bacon, and pickled jalapenos to share. Laura knows about Derek’s secret love of Jane Austen novels, and that he prefers the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice . They used to be on the same wave length. Laura only had to look up across the room, and Derek would be looking back at her, smiling in shared understanding.

The fire took that away from them, and Laura is beginning to think they might never get it back. It has been almost a year since the fire, and when Laura looks at Derek, her brow furrowed in worry, he always seems to be staring off into the distance. They’d never gone longer than a day without talking before, and now it seems like weeks can pass without them ever saying anything more substantive than, “We’re out of milk, can you pick some up at the grocery store?”

The fire makes Derek quiet, withdrawn. He hunches his shoulders like he can’t bare to take up the physical space that he used to, and he flinches everytime he sees a blonde out of the corner of his eye, even though Kate Argent is in jail and will, with any luck, rot there until the end of time. He picks through his food and in during summer before they leave for college, he sometimes sleeps twelve or fourteen hours a day.

Laura doesn’t understand how he can sleep. Nervous energy thrums through her body, and it’s a thousand times worse at night, like maybe the remnant of her connection to Derek means that he can offload his anxiety onto her so he can sleep. She lies awake in her bed, her heart thrumming, until she can’t handle it any longer and she has to just get in the car and drive. The shadows under her eyes grow larger and darker, and there isn’t a back road in a fifty mile radius she doesn’t recognize.

~*~

Derek was the brainiac in the family, but Laura doesn’t say anything when she sees the acceptance letter to Brown at the top of the garbage can, or when they send out two deposit checks–courtesy of the sizable life insurance check that she doesn’t like to think about–to Beacon Hills University in March. She hadn’t liked the thought of Derek on the opposite coast, with miles of mountains and cities and farmland in between them, even before three quarters of their family had been decimated.

This is how Laura comes to be leaning on a doorframe in Mathis Hall, watching Derek shove his clothing into the little three-drawer pine dresser wedged underneath his bed. Like her room in Rhodes Hall, the dorm room is small, but neither of them have much–they’d lost almost everything in the fire.

“You can go unpack your room, Laura,” Derek says, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “I’m fine.”

“I will,” Laura says, but she doesn’t make an attempt to move. “Are you going to be alright?” Living with a stranger, she almost adds, but she bites her tongue. She doesn’t understand why Derek didn’t want to pay for a single. They have the insurance money. Now he’s going to be stuck with some weird Polish kid with an unpronounceable name.

“I’m fine , Laura,” Derek says. It’s quiet for a second before he adds, “And don’t play the big sister card, either.” She can tell he’s trying to defuse the tension, but the familiar joke falls a little flat.

It’s awkward, more awkward than she thought it would be–leaving this room, going back to her sterile, bare dorm room, the walls so close together she can stand in the middle of the room, reach out, and touch them on both sides. She walks quickly over to Derek, squeezes his arm. Plants a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Eight minutes older, and I’ll never let you forget it,” she says softly, managing a small smile.

The moment is interrupted when three cardboard moving boxes, stacked one on top of the other, come barreling into the room. Laura can see jeans and tennis shoes below the boxes, and winces as the new arrival catches his foot on the corner of the desk, sending himself and all three boxes sliding across the floor with a yelp.

Getting a good look at the boy, Laura isn’t surprised that he tripped. He’s tall and gangly, with feet and hands too big for his body, hinting that he isn’t done growing yet. His hair sticks up in all directions, and he’s wearing a plaid flannel shirt, like it isn’t still summertime in California. He looks up at them and winces. “Uh–hi. I’m Stiles.”

Laura and Derek exchange looks, and for a second, the awkwardness between them is forgotten. Derek’s eyes are wide, like maybe he’s wondering what he got himself into after all. Laura snorts.

A second boy sticks his head through the doorway cautiously. He has a television in his hands. “Jesus Christ, Stiles.” This one is shorter, with light brown skin and a mop of dark hair that curls at the ends.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles mutters, sitting up.

“I’m Derek,” Derek says suddenly, looking at the boy who hovers in the doorway. “Are you, uh–”

“That’s Scott, he’s my best friend, his room is down at the end of the hall,” Stiles interrupts. “I’m Mieczyslaw–don’t even try and pronounce it, Stiles is easier. Scotty, you coming in?”

“You going to destroy anything else?” Scott mutters, but he walks in and drops the television on Stiles’s unmade bed.

Laura watches Derek, who watches Scott as he collapses onto one of the now-dented cardboard boxes. Stiles, who hadn’t bothered to stand back up after his fall, simply lays back down on the floor. “It’s too hot to unpack,” he moans. “Why couldn’t the school year start in October?”

“Then you’d have to pack everything up to go home in June,” Laura points out. “It’s not much better.”

Stiles starts, like maybe he hadn’t realized she was there. Derek is still carefully inspecting Scott, so Laura elbows him in the ribs.

“Ow,” Derek says, then–when Laura raises her arm to elbow him again– “Oh, uh, this is my sister. Laura.”

“Are you living in Mathis Hall too?” Scott asks politely.

“No, Rhodes,” Laura replies. And then, when Scott and Stiles don’t look like they’re moving any time soon to finish bringing in Stiles’s things, she adds. “I’d better get back there. Unpack, settle in.”

Stiles makes a noncommittal noise. Scott smiles at her. “Good luck,” he says.

Derek reaches out, gives her a one-armed hug. “I’ll be fine,” he says quietly, so only she can hear. “Go. Unpack.”

“Do you want to meet up later for dinner?” she asks.

Derek hesitates, looking over at Stiles and Scott. “Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe they’ll want to–you know. Hang out.”

Laura personally thinks Stiles looks completely uninterested in interacting with anyone who isn’t Scott, but she can tell that’s the wrong thing to say. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you…around.”

Derek doesn’t respond. He grabs a hoodie out of his suitcase and shoves it into the dresser.

Laura backs out of the dorm room slowly, eyes burning.

~*~

Living cheek by jowl with one hundred and fifty odd eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds creates the sort of energy that’s almost palpable. There’s always people studying in the common areas, someone belting out Disney songs in the shared hall bathroom, or drunk girls stumbling through the staircases, their laughter echoing through the building. Once, inexplicably, Laura opened her dorm room on a Thursday night just in time to watch a fratty-looking freshman pedal down the hall on a unicycle, hoisting a set of bagpipes on his shoulder. She didn’t bother to question it, just took a second to thank God that he wasn’t actually playing the bagpipes.

Paradoxically, the constant thrum of activity seems to help Laura sleep. She crashes onto the bed in her single in afternoons when her classes are over, and sometimes manages four or five hours of sleep before a sudden moment of stillness brings her abruptly into wakefulness. No matter how much she tries, she can never manage to fall back asleep after those moments. On the bright side, she might be the only freshman who doesn’t sleep through at least one eight-thirty class during the first two weeks of school.

There is one significant downside to her new sleeping schedule, however: by the time she wakes up at seven or seven-thirty in the evenings, the dining hall on the East Campus has stopped setting out fresh food, and what is left under the heating lamps is sad and wilting. Derek has already eaten–he goes to dinner at five with Scott and Stiles, right after Scott gets out of lacrosse practice. Laura’s joined them, once or twice, and she eats her dinner in silence, watching Derek watch Scott, and how the tips of Scott’s ears turn pink on the rare occasion Derek is bold enough to address him.

Stiles is oblivious, Laura thinks. He treats Derek with a good-natured sort of indifference, chattering on about his classes, Jackson Whittemore (some guy on their hall who, according to Stiles, is a total ass), and–the history of circumcision?

“I don’t know how you can sleep with him in the room,” Laura tells Derek one afternoon, when she’s managed to drag him away from Stiles and Scott long enough to get lunch at the Student Center. “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to wake up one morning and he’s going to have–I don’t know, set your textbooks on fire to cook some ramen?”

“He’s alright,” Derek says, his voice dry. “He doesn’t snore nearly as loudly as some roommates I’ve had.”

Laura, who shared a bedroom with Derek until they were both fourteen, sticks her tongue out at him. After a minute, she adds, “I think you’re just too chickenshit to ask Scott to hang out alooone .”

Derek ducks his head. With some shock, Laura realizes he’s blushing. “We’re going to a party this weekend,” he mutters.

Laura’s spoon clatters against her plate. “You’re–what? You’re going out with him? Without his shadow?”

“God, Laura,” Derek says. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

“I’m not!” Laura insists, even though she knows she kind of is. “I mean–good for you. Scott’s alright, I guess.”

“He’s–great,” Derek says softly. “He’s really great.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Laura says loftily. “Keep an eye on your drink. Make sure to use a cond–”

“Laura!”

~*~

Laura is well-acquainted with the library by the time her first essay is due–it’s the only building on campus that’s open 24/7. She takes her homework when she goes, but it’s more interesting to people-watch, to guess who’s going to be pulling an all-nighter and which couples are going to end up making out in the stacks. She doesn’t really visit the library during the day, except sometimes to take a cat nap between her two classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Tomorrow, though, her first essay is due in American Government, and she hasn’t really made much headway yet. She’s not too nervous about it–it’s only 9:30, and it’s not like she’d be sleeping tonight, anyways. Still, writing has never been her forte, and seeing her laptop and the books spread out on the table in front of her makes her a little nervous.

She’s two hours and about three-quarters of a page into the assignment when someone slides into the chair across from her. Laura looks up, startled.

Her first thought is that the girl in front of her is about to ask Laura to donate money to build schools for children in Haiti or something. She’s seen a lot of sorority girls sitting at tables in front of the library or the dining hall soliciting money for some cause or another. True, their tactics usually involve more banners and less accosting people trying desperately to write–but this girl still screams sorority.

She’s also maybe the prettiest girl Laura’s ever seen. She has long golden red hair that tumbles over her shoulders in loose curls and pale skin with the barest dusting of light freckles across her nose. Her large hazel eyes are framed with carefully darkened eyelashes, and her lips are a natural-looking pink. Still, it’s the way that she smells that really throws Laura off, like the carefully tended butterfly bush in the backyard of her old house. It reminds Laura of the summertime.

“Can I help you?” Laura asks, her voice squeaking.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” the girl says. Her smile is slow and warm. “You’ve spent the last half hour glaring at your computer. You have some pretty impressive eyebrows–I could tell you were scowling from the reference desk. I’m Lydia, by the way.”

“I’m Laura.” Laura looks over the girl’s shoulder. The reference desk is against the back wall, with a sign sitting on top that says Back In 10 Minutes. “Oh, yeah, it’s just–” Laura shrugs one shoulder. “I’m working on my first Government essay of the semester. You know how it is.”

“Due tomorrow?” Lydia asks, looking amused.

“Yep,” Laura says, and sighs.

“Sounds like you have a long night ahead of you,” Lydia says.

“Unfortunately,” Laura replies. “A long, boring night.”

Lydia laughs. “So you’re not into politics, then? Or just not into essays?”

“Either,” Laura replied gloomily. “Although I’m not really sure–” she grabs a book and pushes it towards Lydia, “that The Growth of the American Government from the Reconstruction through World War II really counts as politics.”

“I don’t know,” Lydia replied mildly. “People who lived during the Reconstruction and World War II might disagree with you.” She casually opens the book and looks at the description on the inside of the book jacket.

“Maybe,” Laura replies. Her cheeks feel hot–she doesn’t like feeling like maybe this gorgeous girl thinks she’s an idiot–but she adds defiantly, “I didn’t major in Landscape Architecture so I could write papers on dead cabinet members.”

One corner of Lydia’s mouth curves upward. “I guess not.”

“What are you majoring in?” Laura asks impulsively. “What year are you?”

“Sophomore. Mathematics,” Lydia says.

Laura blinks. “Okay. I was not expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?” Lydia asks.

“I don’t know.” Laura gestures at their surroundings. “Library science? Fashion design, maybe. The Growth of the American Government from the Reconstruction through World War II?”

“All worthwhile pursuits, I’m sure,” Lydia says dryly. “Well, I better let you get back to it. Good luck with the paper.” She pushes herself away from the table.

“Thanks. Bye,” Laura says. Watching Lydia walk back to the reference desk, she can’t help but take a second to appreciate Lydia’s legs, clad in mint-colored skinny jeans. She’s so goddamn sexy that Laura thinks she might have been a hallucination, or possibly a mirage brought on by the flickering of the fluorescent light bulb over the table next to hers.

Laura doesn’t get much work done until Lydia packs up her bag and leaves just after one a.m., but she still somehow manages to finish the essay before class starts at 8:30.

~*~

Laura reclines on Derek’s bed, watching her brother fuss with his hair in the mirror. He’s wearing khaki slacks and a pastel pink dress shirt. Laura makes a face. The color is disturbing. A pink-and-green patterned bow tie lays crumpled on the desk next to him.

“I still don’t understand why you’re going,” Laura grumbles.

Derek looks at her coolly over his shoulder. “It’ll be fun, Laura.”

“It’s going to be lame!” she argues. “Freshman are the only ones who actually go to the homecoming dance!”

“So we should go this year, before it’s too late,” Derek says.

Laura points at him. “ That ,” she says vehemently, “is what Scott said to you to get you to go, isn’t it?”

Derek shrugs.

It’s Friday, in the middle of October, and the campus has been a hub of activity and energy all week. Chicken wire and colored tissue paper litter the lawn as the Greek organizations on campus compete to build the best float–the winner gets a $2000 donation to their charity of choice–and Laura is pretty sure the sorority girls have actually gotten less sleep this week than she has. Meanwhile, class attendance had taken a sharp dive by Thursday, and even Laura didn’t bother to show up to her American government class this morning. She’d passed three frat guys on a couch in the middle of campus, sipping God knows what from red Solo cups, on her way to the dining hall for lunch.

The football game tomorrow is something Laura understands, even though she’s not big on school spirit and their football team sucks. She’s pretty sure the entire student population will either be in the stadium sporting flasks or on the mall dumping mini bottles of rum into coke cans. That’s the kind of celebration she can get behind. But this–

“It’s not even like it’s all freshmen,” she says, her voice perilously close to a whine. “It’s for lame freshmen who haven’t figured out how to socialize outside school-sponsored events!”

“Sounds like you’d fit right in,” Derek mutters darkly.

Laura sits up. “I socialize!” she snaps.

Derek opens his mouth, then shuts it. His shoulders slump. Hesitantly, he approaches his bed, then hoists himself up onto it to sit next to her. After a second, he leans in to her and drapes an arm over her shoulder.

“Laura,” he says softly. “You haven’t done anything since we got to college. No parties. No mandatory freshman social events. You don’t do anything with the people on your hall–”

“I went to their Disney movie night in Baker Hall!” Laura protests.

Derek just looks at her. “That was the second week of classes, Laura. You don’t ever eat with anyone in the dining hall, when you actually bother to go–”

“I eat with you!” Laura says, aghast.

Derek tightens his arm around her. “I’m your brother, your twin brother,” he says softly. “It doesn’t count.”

“ And Scott is there, and Stiles,” Laura adds.

“My boyfriend and his best friend, neither of whom you actually like,” Derek says dryly.

“I like Scott,” Laura protests. Yes, she was worried when Derek first started dating him–with Derek’s dating history, who wouldn’t be?–but by now, even Laura could tell that Scott genuinely likes Derek. “And you don’t like Stiles, either.”

“He grows on you,” Derek says dryly.

“Like killer mold,” Laura mutters.

“That’s not the point. Laura, I’m worried about you.”

Laura jerks away from Derek. His arm falls away from her shoulders. Startled, unsure of what to say, all she can do is look at him.

Worried? Derek? About her ? Yes, they’re twins, but for all intents and purposes, Laura has always been the older sister. Derek is sweet and sensitive, was prone to excessive clumsiness throughout his teenage years, and he’s someone who loves too hard and too easily. He needs her to protect him. It is her fault that Kate–but that isn’t what they’re talking about right now. Right now, they’re talking about Derek and worried about you and the role reversal leaves Laura reeling.

“I’m fine, Derek,” Laura says blankly.

“Are you?” Derek asks. “It’s not just that you never do anything, either. You’re still not sleeping–I can tell you aren’t, so don’t try to lie to me.”

“Half the student population won’t be sleeping next week when they remember they’ve got midterms,” Laura says. “I’m just getting the jump on them.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, Laura.”

“So am I. There’s nothing wrong. You’re worrying about nothing.”

“Laura–”

Derek’s dorm room door flies open and Stiles, wearing a black dress shirt, black slacks, and silver tie, tumbles through. Laura scowls at Stiles, though her reaction is mostly due to habit–by this point in the semester, she’s used to his haphazard entrances. As always, Scott follows a couple of seconds behind his best friend. Like Derek, he’s wearing khakis. His button down shirt is pastel green, and he’s wearing a pink-and-green patterned bowtie.

“Hey Laura!” Scott says. “Hey Derek–you’re not wearing your bowtie!”

“I don’t think I’m made for bowties,” Derek grumbles.

“’Course you are,” Scott says amiably. “Where is it? Here, let me help you tie it.”

Laura watches as Scott fumbles with the bowtie while Stiles begins to mess around on his laptop. It takes a couple of tries–”It’s harder to do it from this angle. Shut up Stiles,” “I didn’t say anything!” “I could hear you smirking,”–but Scott finally succeeds. Derek smiles down fondly at him.

“Gross,” Laura says suddenly, taking in Scott and Derek’s pink and green attire and matching bowties. “Did you guys seriously color coordinate?”

“Shut up, Laura,” Derek says.

Scott laughs. “Feeling left out?” he asks. “There’s still time! You can come with us, if you want.”

Laura thinks about the homecoming dance her freshman year of high school–she had worn an awful pink taffeta dress and her hair had been curled into ringlets–and shudders delicately. “No thanks,” she says. “I think I’ll leave the dances to you two lovebirds. And Sidekick McGee, of course.”

“Fuck off,” Stiles says without heat. Laura sticks her tongue out at him.

“He’s feeling a little sensitive about the whole third wheel thing,” Scott fake-whispers. “He tried to ask out a hot redhead at the library and she turned him down.”

Thinking about her own encounter with a hot redhead in the library, Laura flushes furiously. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she was avoidingLydia–she’s pretty sure you have to actually know someone before you can really avoid them–but she’s been staying off of that floor of the library at night, just in case. Not flunking American government this semester means studying, a lot, and that becomes a problem when all she wants to do is fantasize about a sexy reference desk worker who smells like flowers.

Stiles makes a face at Scott. “She was a strawberry blonde.”

“Whatever, dude,” Scott says. “Last chance, Laura. Think about all the non-alcoholic punch you’re missing out on.”

“It will be fun,” Derek adds, looking at her pointedly.

Laura hops off the bed, avoids his eyes. “Sorry, but I’m ditching you guys. I’ve got a hot date with Netflix,” she says, and saunters out of the room.

~*~

Originally, Laura’s plan for homecoming was to spend the weekend holed up in the library, but the hallway in her dorm room is strangely quiet–Laura thinks that some of the girls might have left their rooms Thursday night with no plans to return until Sunday–and it makes her skin itch. The library is also deserted, but at least it’s quietness is characteristic. She misses the sounds of pages turning and frantic typic and the general atmosphere of thinly veiled panic, but there’s no competition for the squishiest armchairs. Laura manages to fall asleep sometime around five a.m. Saturday morning and sleeps until almost ten.

She’s feeling relatively well-rested, and maybe that’s why she reconsiders Derek’s words from the night before. She still thinks he’s overreacting, but maybe–probably–this weird new side of Derek that fusses over her sleep schedule and her social life is just another byproduct of the fire. So, in the interest of having something to defend herself with the next time he gets touchy-feely, Laura decides to go out.

She swings by her dorm room and swaps out her sweatpants for skinny jeans, but leaves her BHU t-shirt on. Homecoming is about school spirit, right? She grabs a sweatshirt and her phone, about to text Derek, but hesitates. Was he serious when he said that hanging out with him didn’t count as socialization? They’d both had people who they were friendly with in high school, people they went shopping or hit up arcades with, but none of those casual acquaintanceships came close to the friendship that they’d had with one another.

Derek had dated Paige, of course, and there was the whole fucked up Kate Argent situation. But Laura had never dated anyone, even after she’d came out as a lesbian. Their high school had been big enough to have an active little GSA, but she’d never really clicked with any of the girls there.

Maybe she was just antisocial by nature, she thinks, but no one had ever noticed before the fire because it was damn near impossible to get any alone time when you have 12 people living under the same roof.

Hardening her resolve, Laura drops her cell phone into her pocket. She will let Scott and Derek have their alone time, assuming Stiles isn’t still tagging along with them. She’ll wander around the mall, and see if she can find any of the other girls who live on her hall.

The mall is packed with tents and awnings and people. Students and alumni are lounging in lawn chairs and on blankets spread on the ground and the occasional crappy couch that some frat guys had purchased used for the sole purpose of tailgating. The parking lot adjacent to the mall is just as full. It seems like every group of people has their own speakers set up, and the music–mostly either Top 40 or country–runs together as Laura walks down the mall. People play cornhole and flip cup, cook over grills, and barely bother to disguise the fact that they’re drinking in the middle of campus.

It takes her nearly half an hour, but she does finally find a couple of familiar faces–Kira and Allison, who live in the room near the communal kitchen on her hall, are sitting on lawn chairs under a large BHU awning. There’s a handful of other people in the general vicinity, but not too many, and when Laura catches Kira’s eye and waves hesitantly, Kira beckons her over.

“Laura!” Kira shouts. “It’s so good to see you! Isn’t this great?”

“It’s something,” Laura says laconically.

Kira laughs. “I feel like I’m in a college movie!”

“If we were in a college movie,” Allison says, raising her voice, “someone would bring Laura a drink!”

“You hear that, Jackson?” A somewhat familiar voice calls from behind Laura. “Laura needs a drink.”

Flushing, Laura turns around slowly. Sure enough, she recognizes the redhead standing directly behind her, a water bottle full of pink liquid in one hand: Lydia. Even though it’s October, she’s wearing tiny denim shorts and a BHU t-shirt that she’s cropped so it barely covers her breasts. Her stomach is painted maroon, with yellow text that reads “BHU!” and she has the school emblem done up in rhinestones on one cheek.

“Hey, Lyds,” Allison says, sounding surprised. “You know one another?”

“We’ve met,” Lydia says, smiling at Laura. “How’d the paper turn out?”

“I got a B minus,” Laura says stiffly.

Lydia makes a noncommittal noise. “Not bad, for your first college essay.”

“Oh, don’t gloat, Lydia,” Kira says, and sighs. “Lydia is a genius, Laura. It’s very unfair to the rest of us.”

“I figured as much,” Laura says. When Lydia raises an eyebrow at her, she adds, “They only let geniuses major in math, right?”

“Tell that to some of my classmates,” Lydia says dryly. Then, sounding a little uncomfortable: “I didn’t mean to come across as bitchy.”

“You didn’t,” Laura says.

“If you ever want company while you’re studying–” Lydia begins.

“Hey, Lyds!” A ripped dude with a ridiculous jawline strolls over. He presses a cold can of Miller Lite into Laura’s hand, barely looking at her, then gives Lydia a half-armed hug. “They let you out of the library?”

Looking at his arm around Lydia, Laura scowls. She should have guessed that a girl like Lydia would have a boyfriend that thought wearing socks with Nike sandals was the epitome of style. She pops the top on the Miller Lite and takes a cautious sip. It tastes like crap.

“I’m a social creature. They have to let me out sometime,” Lydia says, sidling away from Muscular McDouchebag. “Laura, I’m sorry to say that you have accidentally walked in on my unofficial high school reunion. This is my ex, Jackson.”

Laura takes another sip of the beer. “Nice to meet you,” she says grudgingly.

“Yeah, you too,” Jackson says, looking furtively back and forth between Laura and Lydia. “So…do you guys want to play flip cup?”

~*~

Laura decides three beers in that the Miller Lite doesn’t taste that bad, but she’s still not a fan. Still, she feels pleasantly warm–she’s beginning to realize why everyone is in shorts and tanktops–and there are worse ways to spend a Saturday. She’s sitting in a lawnchair in the shade, lazily watching the people walk up and down the mall, when Lydia plops onto the ground next to her.

“Having fun?” Lydia asks.

“It’s not so bad,” Laura replies. “Why do you work in the library if you’re majoring in mathematics?”

Lydia shrugs. “I like research. I like books. It’s slightly less tedious than working at Victoria’s Secret, which is what I do during the summers. Plus, I get the chance to meet grouchy girls who hate American politics.”

“Hate is a strong word. And I’m not grouchy–it’s just the eyebrows. It’s a family curse.” Derek would call her out for lying if he were here, but right now, all Laura wants is for this smart, sexy girl to–what? Be her new best friend? Paint her toe nails? Rest her head on Laura’s thigh, so she can run her fingers through the increasingly disheveled bun that Lydia had wrestled the golden red waves into?

Yes, Laura thinks, she really wants that last one. She scowls.

“See?” Lydia reaches up and taps Laura’s forehead with one delicate, manicured fingernail. “Grouchy. It’s probably the lack of sleep.”

“I am not grouchy,” Laura growls, which makes Lydia dissolve into laughter. Laura can’t help but smile at that, a little. Lydia looks bright and sweet when she laughs.

“What makes you think I don’t get enough sleep?” Laura asks, once Lydia’s giggles have quieted.

Lydia smiles. “Honey, I have never seen someone with circles that dark. You need to stick some cucumbers on your eyes.”

“Thanks,” Laura says sarcastically. “I appreciate the advice.”

“Don’t worry,” Lydia says, getting to her feet. “They give you a sexy, dangerous workaholic kind of look. Like an FBI agent. Or a vigilante superheroine, bent on revenge.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Laura says.

“It was meant as one,” Lydia replies with a smirk.

Laura’s still mulling over that comment when Lydia asks, “Are you going to the football game with us? Kickoff’s in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m not really an organized sports person.” Laura hesitates, then asks, “Will you be in the library next week?”

“Midterms,” Lydia says with a sigh. “I’ll be lucky if I have a chance to leave long enough to eat. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” Laura says. “I’ll see you.”

~*~

She can’t go to the library, Laura realizes Monday evening, feeling a wave of panic rise up over her. It’s not like they made a date . In fact, their conversation was so vague that Lydia was probably brushing her off, and Laura just hadn’t realized it because she was drunk. If she shows up at the library now, Lydia will think she’s some kind of creepy stalker. God, she’s probably straight. Laura groans.

The problem is, she has a paper due in two days, and she really needs to go to the library, Lydia or no Lydia. Her insomnia-slash-anxiety has permeated the dorm room and it makes it impossible to write in here, like her inability to sleep has overflowed into an inability to do anything else she ought to be doing.

Laura tries going to McElwin Hall–it’s the closest building to her dorm, and one of the only ones that freshmen have access to after 11:00pm–but half the classrooms have study groups in them, and the other half are filled with burnt out upperclassmen using the projectors to watch movies. Growling, she tries Johns Hall, but it’s just as packed. Feeling a little desperate, Laura trudges over to Derek’s dorm room.

Stiles answers when she knocks. Laura makes a face. “Is Derek here?” she asks.

“No,” Stiles says. “I think him and Scott went somewhere to study.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s very productive,” Laura says sarcastically. “There’s a lot of studying going on, I’m sure.”

Stiles snorts. “Hey, I’m just glad they’re not ‘studying ’ in the room,” he says, emphasizing his point with air quotes . “I have papers due, and even when they’re not making out–which, ugh –they’re exuding enough puppy love to make me nauseous.”

Laura sighs. “That’s Derek,” she says. “He doesn’t do things in halves.”

Stiles grins. “Scott either. I mean, I love the guy. We’ve been best friends since the womb. But man. I still remember his first big crush, back in sophomore year of high school. There was poetry. And pining, lots of pining.”

“Well, it sounds like they’re a match made in heaven,” Laura says.

“It sure seems like it,” Stiles says. “Honestly, I’m happy for Scott. Even if they’re going to give me cavities from proximity alone.”

“Me too,” Laura says. “Derek–” she hesitates, not sure what she should say. “Derek has a problem with falling for people who hurt him. I’m glad he’s dating someone who’s nice, for a change.”

“And you’ll kill anyone who hurts your baby brother, blah blah blah,” Stiles says, breaking her moment of introspection. “Save it for Scott. Do you want to come in? I desperately need a break from this paper.”

“I desperately need to start this paper,” Laura says.

“It’s still early,” Stiles assures her. “It’s barely even ten.”

“Great,” Laura mutters, but she follows Stiles into the dorm room.

She’s never been alone with Stiles before, and she isn’t exactly looking forward to it now. If Derek was out with Scott, the likelihood that he’ll be back any time soon seems slim. Still, it isn’t like she has anywhere else to go. Laura climbs on top of Derek’s bed and takes her laptop out of her bookbag, hoping that Stiles will take a hint.

He doesn’t. He rambles on about his classes and his paper–a history of circumcision, though Laura isn’t really sure what that has to do with economics–while Laura stares at a blank word document. Still, after ten or fifteen minutes of moaning about midterms, Stiles finally returns to his paper, leaving Laura in glorious silence.

She types her name and the date at the top of the page, then hits the enter key a couple of times. She changes the font from Calibri to Times New Roman, then to Papyrus and back again. Her phone buzzes–it’s just junk email–and she spends a couple of minutes scrolling through her Instagram feed. A couple of girls she knew in high school have posted pictures of a bonfire party. Cora posted a picture of a waterfall system in Argentina. Laura’s breath hitches. She tosses her phone aside and grabs her government textbook and begins to skim through the most recent chapters.

An hour and a half later, she’s actually managed to write a couple of paragraphs and she rewards herself by lying back on Derek’s bed. It takes her a minute to realize she’s being stared at. Laura flops over onto her side to look back at Stiles. “Can I help you?” she asks.

“Oh, no,” Stiles says. “I’m just impressed, is all. It’s not often that I find someone who’s just as adept at procrastinating as I am.”

Laura snorts. “Half the people on this campus are procrastinating at this very moment,” she replies.

Stiles grins. “I doubt they’re doing it as aggressively as you are,” he says.

“I’ve heard you typing over there,” Laura argues. “It doesn’t sound like you’re procrastinating.”

“It’s the ADHD,” Stiles replies breezily. “It occasionally grants me the gift of hyperfocus. Of course, my paper is only marginally related to the prompt, but whatever, it’s interesting.” He waves his hand. “My point stands–you look like you’d rather eat glass than work on that paper.”

“It’s my American Government class,” Laura grumbles. “I hate it. All I want to do is–I don’t know. Plant flowers. Design gardens. Whatever. What do I need American Government for? And it doesn’t help that I’m here , instead of, you know, in the library.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those ‘I can only focus in the library’ types,” Stiles says. “Which raises the question–why are you here waiting for Derek?”

Laura sighs and rolls back over, so she’s not looking at Stiles. She picks up her textbook again, flips through it mindlessly. She tries to sneak a look back at Stiles. He’s still looking at her.

“I can see what you mean about hyperfocus,” Laura grumbles.

“Smells like avoidance,” Stiles replies.

Laura growls at him, like she used to do to Derek when he was being particularly annoying. “It’s not avoidance!”

“Spill or leave,” Stiles says.

“It’s just–” Laura throws her hands up in the air. “There’s this super hot girl at the library, and I don’t know if she’s interested, or if she’s even into girls, and I have no fucking idea what to do.”

“Oh. Well.” Stiles blinks. “That was not what I was expecting.”

Laura glares at him. “What were you expecting?” she asks acidly.

Stiles puts his hands up. “Woah there, I was just implying that you’re a huge hermit. I was completely aware that you like girls. I mean, you’re basically Lesbian Barbie.” He gestures in her general proximity, as if that’s supposed to be some kind of explanation.

Laura looks down at her plaid shirt. “Boys,” Laura says, and sniffs. “So do you have any useful advice, or what?”

“Oh, no,” Stiles says quickly. “I just wanted to know what was going on. I don’t do romantic advice. I mean, look at me. Ordering my coffee from the same barista every morning senior year of high school is, like, the full extent of my relationship experience. But, I guess–” he shrugs, “talk to her, maybe?”

Laura throws a pillow at his head. “Thanks, Captain Obvious. And what exactly am I supposed to do after that?”

“Netflix and chill,” Stiles replies sagely.

Laura groans.

~*~

At nine p.m. the next night, Laura heads to the library. Her essay is nearly halfway done, but she has to finish it before the next morning, and she can’t exactly spend another night camped out in Derek’s dorm. For one, Derek is in bed with a cold and Scott is there feeding him chicken noodle soup. And though Laura has to admit, grudgingly, that Stiles isn’t so bad, she still knows a lot more about circumcision than she ever wanted to.

So Laura, armed with two pumpkin spice lattes, climbs the steps into the library. She doesn’t necessarily have to talk to Lydia, she reassures herself. She could just find somewhere to write her essay. Wait, and see if Lydia comes to her.

And do what, exactly, with the two cups of coffee she’s holding?

Laura blows a lock of hair out of her face. Calm down, stupid. You can do this. Clenching her teeth so hard her jaw creaks in protest, Laura marches up two flights of stairs and to the reference desk–

–and stares blankly at the dark-haired guy sitting at the desk. His fingers hover above the keyboard of the computer, obviously working on his own classwork. There’s a sign, printed on neon pink paper, taped onto the front of the desk that reads, “NO FOOD OR DRINKS IN THE LIBRARY.”

“Can I help you?” the guy asks, clearly annoyed.

“I, uh–” Laura hesitates, not sure she wants to bring up Lydia’s name. Reference desk guy is eying the Starbucks cups.

“Looking for me?”

Laura turns around. Lydia is standing behind her, smiling, her bookbag over her shoulder. She’s wearing black leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. A few strands of hair have escaped the clip securing them to the top of her head.

“Hey, Lydia,” Laura says. “Are you, um, working?”

“No, I’m off tonight,” Lydia says.

Laura shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, well. I won’t bother you then. I’m sure you want to get out of here.”

“I just got here,” Lydia says, gesturing to her bookbag. “Midterms and all.”

“Oh. Cool,” Laura replies. “Did you–uh–I brought you this.” She holds out one of the pumpkin spice lattes.

Lydia takes the cup and beams at Laura. “Excellent. Coffee. Just what I need at nine o’clock the night before my vector calculus exam,” she says. “Did you want to find a table?”

~*~

It’s nearly three a.m., but the library is just as packed as it was when Laura first got there. She and Lydia had given up on finding an empty table, but by some small miracle had managed to find two empty armchairs. Admittedly, the armchairs hadn’t exactly been next to one another–Laura had been on the receiving end of several nasty looks as she dragged one into an elevator and across the library floor. She had hesitated, but ultimately decided to situate the chair so that it was right next to the one Lydia had taken up residence in, the arms of the chairs pressed together.

Wearily, Laura types up a couple of sentences for the conclusion of her paper. Her back hurts from sitting ramrod straight in the chair. Meanwhile, Lydia is sprawled out over hers, and has been since about half an hour into their study session. Her legs are draped over one arm of the chair and her head is leaned back against the other. Her hair has half-fallen out of the clip anchoring it to the top of her head, and every few minutes, Laura gets a whiff of her floral shampoo.

She should move, should pack up her things and go back to her dorm room and try to catch a couple hours of sleep before class starts. She’s still got the midterm for her design class later this week, and she’d promised to meet up with Derek and Scott tomorrow–tonight–whenever–for dinner.

Laura doesn’t realize she’s been staring at Lydia’s notes, at her precise and elegant handwriting, until Lydia asks, “You done?”

“More or less,” Laura replies hoarsely. “How are you doing?”

“I’m feeling pretty good about it,” Lydia says. She stretches, pointing her toes and reaching her arms out over her head, so that they drape across Laura’s lap.

“Are you going to go back to your dorm room and catch some sleep?” Laura asks.

Lydia raises an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Laura huffs. “Why do you always bring up my sleep schedule?” she complains.

“I’m not sure you can call it a sleep schedule if you never actually sleep,” Lydia says.

“I sleep,” Laura replies.

“I totally believe you,” Lydia says. “You know, slow-wave sleep is very important for your semantic memory.”

“The fact that you know that just tells me that you get too much slow-wave sleep,” Laura retorts. “Kira was right. You are a know-it-all.”

Lydia laughs. “Maybe she’s right.” She sits up, swinging her legs off the arm of the chair, then leans over the arm of Laura’s chair, so she can look straight at her. “Hey, you want to know something I don’t know?”

“What?” Laura asks.

Lydia flutters her eyelashes. “Your number.”

Laura stares at Lydia. That was a pickup line, she’s sure of it, but it still takes a second for her to decide that Lydia isn’t kidding. Laura’s hair is a mess and her teeth feel fuzzy from drinking the too-sweet coffee and she’s pretty sure she didn’t bother to reapply her deoderant before she decided to camp out in the library for six hours. Meanwhile, in spite of the leggings–or maybe because of them–Lydia looks like some kind of modern goddess of libraries and all-nighters.

Laura has to fight off a sudden wave a panic. There’s a part of her, and it’s not a small part, that wants to say, “Oh no, sorry, I dropped my phone in the toilet this morning, probably won’t have a new one for a couple of weeks,” and then get the fuck out of there.

Lydia’s smile grows dimmer the longer Laura is silent. She thinks about Derek saying I’m worried and Stiles saying Just talk to her , but she also hears Peter saying I’ve got to go to New York and Cora saying I’m leaving for Argentina in a few weeks and, further back, her mother: Laura, you know we’ll always love you, no matter what. We just want you to be happy. She doesn’t know what to do sometimes, with all these people inside her brain–she can barely hear herself think.

“Here, give me your phone,” Laura says. When Lydia passes it to Laura, their fingertips brush against one another, and Laura’s hand twitches at the sudden sensation of electricity between their skin. The hair on Laura’s neck stands on end.

She types in her phone number, and saves it under her name plus a purple flower emoji.

~*~

“So are you dating?” Stiles asks.

It’s Saturday night, a couple of weeks after midterms, and they’ve all made it through with passing grades. Well, mostly–Stiles had a meeting with his economics professor earlier this week, who had told him to redo the assigned and please, for the love of God, Stilinski, stick to the damn topic this time! “It was technically a great paper, though,” Stiles had told her smugly. Laura had snorted.

Now, she, Stiles, and Derek are sprawled out on the floor of their dorm room. They’re only missing Scott, who went home for the weekend to help his old boss out with a fundraiser at the animal shelter. There’s a fifth of Fireball and a half-empty two liter of 7-Up on the floor next to Derek. Laura made a face when he had handed her the first cup, but it isn’t the worst thing she’s seen freshmen drink.

She takes a long sip now. “I don’t know,” she says finally. “I think we’re just–hanging out. We haven’t kissed yet.”

“And–no offense–you’re sure she’s into girls?” Derek asks skeptically.

“I’m like ninety-five–well, like eighty percent sure,” Laura says. “She definitely flirts with me. Definitely . I think we’re just, you know. Taking it slow.”

“Yeah, Derek,” Stiles says amicably. “Not everyone’s a huge man-slut like you.”

Laura gives Stiles a nasty look, but Derek just laughs. It’s the sort of comment that would have made him shut down just a couple of months ago. “Hey, you’re the only one having casual sex here, Stilinski. Where is Malia, by the way?”

“Out terrorizing other freshman boys, I presume,” Stiles replies airly. “I didn’t think you would appreciate her being here, Laura. Her idea of relationship advice revolves exclusively around sex and food. Sometimes at the same time.”

“Gross,” Laura grumbles.

“To each his own,” Stiles replies. “So what are you doing, since you’re not dating?”

“Homework, mostly,” Laura admits. “I hang out in the library with her while she works sometimes. We’re watching Numb3rs on Netflix. Um. I made her dinner once?”

“In the dorm?” Derek asks, surprised.

Laura shrugs. “It was just breakfast for dinner,” she mutters.

Derek nudges her with his foot. “Laura’s famous breakfast for dinner,” he says softly. “We haven’t had it since–well, it’s been a while. And made with a hotplate and a toaster oven, no less. You must like her.”

“The hall kitchen has a real stove,” Laura says defensively.

“Eggs,” Stiles scoffs. “ Bo -ring. Let’s have a Hale twins pow wow when you introduce whipped cream into your relationship. Does anyone want to play Kings?”

Which is how Stiles ends up passed out a couple of hours later, while Laura and Derek sit shoulder-to-shoulder on Derek’s bed. It’s a little after three, and Laura’s brain feels pleasantly fuzzy, and she’s considering heading home and marathoning Extreme Homes until she can finally fall asleep when Derek says, “Laura?”

“Yeah, Der-Bear?” she says.

He elbows her gently over the use of the childhood nickname. “How are you sleeping?” he asks. “Has it gotten any better? Recently?”

“Wow, two heart-to-hearts in less than a month,” Laura says sarcastically. “Look who thinks he’s in a place to be giving advice on being a functioning, emotionally stable adult.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Derek replies.

Laura shrugs.

“Well, I’m happy you’re at least–making friends. Dating. Getting out of your dorm room. Whatever,” Derek says. “Although–are you going to tell Lydia?”

“Why would I?” Laura asks, appalled. “You didn’t tell Scott!”

“Actually, I did,” Derek says. He puts his hand over Laura’s. “That’s what people in relationships do, Laura. They share things with each other.”

“Well, you would know,” Laura grumbles. She feels a little bad for saying it–he and Paige had barely started dating when she had died. And Kate Argent–well, they both saw how that had ended. But still, can’t he see that she doesn’t want to talk about it? Even the thought of Derek talking to Scott about what had happened makes her nauseous.

Did he tell Scott I should have known? she thinks, feeling lost and scared and desperate. Did he tell Scott I could have stopped it?

~*~

Laura needs time to think so she just–she stops. Stops going to the library, stops hanging out with her brother and his friends, stops texting Lydia back. It’s not like they’re dating, Laura reasons. And it’s just for a couple of days, so it’s not really ghosting. Just long enough for Laura to figure out how to tell Lydia that she’s just not really cut out for–relationships. Friendships. Whatever.

Laura knows by now that Lydia is smart and resourceful and not a little bit stubborn, especially when she wants something. Somehow, though, she didn’t think to take that into account when formulating her plan.

Which is why Laura is so surprised to find Lydia outside of her door.

“Hey. What’s up?” Lydia asks. She’s sitting cross-legged in the hallway, a textbook open in her lap. Though her words are friendly enough, Laura sees a mixture of worry and anger in Lydia’s eyes that makes her pulse speed up.

“Um. Not…much?” Laura replies. She holds up the paper bag of food that she had left campus to get. “Do you want…doughnut holes?”

Lydia huffs. “You better believe that you are going to tell me what is going on with you,” she says threateningly. She gets to her feet, grabs the paper bag out of Laura’s hand, then stands, arms crossed, next to Laura’s door. It’s obvious that she’s waiting for Laura to unlock the door.

Laura does so, muttering, “By all means, come in.”

“I will, thanks,” Lydia replies, her voice heated. She follows Laura into the room, shutting the door behind her with slightly more force than necessary. She drops the bag of doughnut holes on Laura’s dresser and then hoists herself up onto Laura’s bed. She looks at Laura expectantly.

“Um. Well. How was your weekend?” Laura asks.

“Fine,” Lydia replies. There’s a long pause.

“How’s vector calculus?” Laura tries again.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “Come on, Laura.”

“What?” Laura asks, her voice defensive.

“You know what!” Lydia snaps. “We’ve been talking or hanging out basically every day, and suddenly you decide you can just–not answer my texts! Ignore my calls! I haven’t heard from you in three damn days! You could have been–I don’t know! Dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Overreact much?” Laura snaps back. Then she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. This is exactly what she didn’t want. “Look, Lyds, I just needed some time.”

“You should have told me,” Lydia says darkly.

Laura sighs. “Probably,” she admits. “But, look–this is what I mean, see? I’m shit at this–sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lydia demands.

“It means–” Laura throws her hands up, exasperated. “I don’t know! I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“I want you to tell me the truth,” Lydia replied. “Laura, look,” her voices cracks, “We’re friends, right?”

Laura hesitates. She’s losing control of the conversation, she knows she is, but– “Yeah,” she says softly. “We’re friends.”

“And–you like me?” Lydia says, sounding unsure. “I mean–you’re, well, you’re funny and fierce and I never know what you’re thinking. And–God, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. But if you don’t–don’t feel the same way–”

Laura looks at her, and there’s something in Lydia’s eyes that overwhelms her. Lydia is scared , Laura realizes, and the realization is like an out-of-body experience. She’s afraid, because she’s opened up to other women before and been rejected, and what the fuck is Laura supposed to do now?

“Jesus, Lydia,” Laura says, her voice raw. She runs a hand through her hair. “It’s not that. It’s not like that. Of course I like you, you’re…perfect. All I can think about sometimes is the way you smile, or the way you smell… God.”

“Then why?” Lydia asks, her voice still vulnerable.

Laura sighs. She crosses the room and crawls up onto the bed, so she can sit next to Lydia without looking at her. “Look, there’s–there’s something I haven’t told you. Something…important, I guess.”

They’re quiet for a moment. Lydia finally asks, “Is it–does it have something to do with how you never sleep?”

Laura smiles, though it’s a little watery. “You’re obsessed with me sleeping. You know that, right?”

Lydia laughs. It’s soft and breathy.

“But–yeah, I guess it does,” Laura says.

“I knew it was something,” Lydia says softly. “I mean, you never talk about your family, other than Derek. And you’re so–hyper aware, all the time. I figured–something. I was going to take everything really slow, you know, so I wouldn’t freak you out.” She snorts. “And then you dropped off the face of the fucking planet, and I guess I freaked out a little. But–you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” Laura says. It’s not entirely true, but Derek had said she should, right? And it’s not like this is a fucking therapy session, for God’s sake. Just like a bandaid, she thinks.

“Some homicidal blonde pyro burnt our house to the ground and killed half my family.”

Saying it–she feels like she’s someone else, or somewhere else, or maybe like she’s still Laura Hale, still in her dorm room, but in some alternate dimension where this conversation never happens. Her voice sounds far away and foreign.

“God,” Lydia says. Laura hears a soft thump! as Lydia leans-slash-falls back against the cinderblock wall, forcing the air out of her lungs in a short, harsh sigh. “God,” she repeats.

“Yeah,” Laura agrees.

“Was she,” Lydia hesitates, “–someone you knew?”

Laura understands what Lydia isn’t saying. “You mean, was she my girlfriend?” Laura laughs a little hysterically. “God, no. I didn’t know her from Eve before they arrested her.”

And that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it? Derek was seeing a woman ten years his senior with the temperament of a rabid snake, and Laura–his sister, his twin– didn’t know .

“Do you want me to go?” Lydia asks softly, her voice strained.

“God, no,” Laura replies.

Moving slowly, like she’s afraid Laura might run, Lydia turns her upper body slightly so she’s facing Laura and reaches out to cradle Laura’s face in one hand. Her skin is as cool as dew and silky soft. Laura can feel the jump of the pulse in Lydia’s wrist where it lays against Laura’s cheek. Laura shudders slightly. Lydia’s eyelashes flutter as she closes her eyes.

Carefully, Laura leans in and presses her lips to Lydia’s temple, then to her mouth. Lydia’s lips part slightly as she sighs. Her breath is wet and somehow sweet. Laura kisses her once again, brushing her lips against Lydia’s perfectly full bottom lip, and draws back.

They rearrange themselves in the bed. They’re both still fully clothed–Lydia in a wispy dress that rides up her perfect thighs and stockings that now have a run in one knee, Laura in skinny jeans and a collared shirt–but they make it work. Laura’s spooning Lydia, sort of, with her face buried in the redhead’s hair, and they’ve got a laptop balanced on Lydia’s hip so they can watch Netflix. It’s not very late yet, not by her standards, but Laura feels tired, so fucking tired–

She falls asleep.

—

The sunlight creeping in through her broken blinds turns the inside of her eyelids red. Laura jerks awake.

It takes her a couple of seconds to realize that she’s in her own dorm, her own bed. It’s been nearly three months since she moved in, but this morning, the cinderblock walls seem suddenly unfamiliar. It only takes half a second longer to place Lydia, who’s propped up on one elbow, watching her.

“So, you do sleep,” Lydia says.

“Sometimes,” Laura croaks. She doesn’t mention that she doesn’t remember the last time she slept at night . “What time is it?”

“Almost eight,” Lydia replies. “So that’s, what? Seven and a half hours?”

“Something like that,” Laura replies, though it had been impossible for her to pay attention to the clock last night, with Lydia’s body pressed against her.

“So, kissing,” Lydia says casually, leaning in closer to Laura. “Is that something we do now?”

“I have morning breath,” Laura protests weakly.

“So do I,” Lydia says reasonably. She rests her open hand against Laura’s waist, sending tingles up Laura’s spine, and kisses her, warm and slow.

~*~

Days pass, then weeks. Laura does not often sleep through the night, but it does happen occasionally. More nights than not, she’s left awake while Lydia sleeps curled up next to her. It’s probably a good thing, Laura reasons, running her fingers through Lydia’s hair, skimming her fingertips over the expanse of perfect, exposed skin on Lydia’s hip. The twin-sized dorm room bed is not meant for two people to lay side by side, as Lydia and Laura do almost every night. Lying awake means that Laura, at least, is aware enough to keep one of them from rolling off the side.

Laura and Lydia’s relationship is not so different than it was before. Laura brings coffee to Lydia in the library on nights that she works. They eat dinner in the dining hall together. Sometimes, Derek, Scott, and/or Stiles join them. More often, they sit with Kira, Allison, and Jackson–Lydia’s friends from high school–or the people she’s met in the math department and the library. Against all odds, Laura decides she likes them. They go to a party at Jackson’s fraternity house, where Laura gets regrettably drunk on peach schnapps, much to Lydia’s amusement.

Whenever Derek is around, he watches them with a pleased sort of smile. Laura resents him for it, a little, can’t understand why he acts like it’s all so normal . Like a semester at college and both of them getting laid is all it’s going to take for things to be like they were before the fire. (And, well. It’s not like Laura and Lydia are having sex. Yet.)

Rationally, Laura knows she shouldn’t be holding this against Derek. He deserves to be happy, to date someone nice and uncomplicated for once. And he isn’t the only one pretending that everything is normal. She is too, because it’s easier than the alternative.

Laura smells smoke wherever she goes.

~*~

It’s Sunday night, and there are only two days between the student population at BHU and Thanksgiving break. Though Laura usually takes comfort in being surrounded by crazy college students, their barely contained excitement has had her on edge the entire weekend. She knows there’s no way she’ll sleep tonight, not when she’s dreading five straight days of an empty campus.

The dining hall is closing Tuesday night for the duration of the holiday, and Laura had been torn trying to decide if attempting to cook Thanksgiving dinner in a dorm kitchen would make her and Derek feel more or less pathetic–until Derek had pulled her aside at lunch today to tell her he was going to visit Scott’s family for Thanksgiving, and did she want to come too?

Laura had demurred. She had her term paper to write for American Government, a project due for her design class. Anything was better than spending five days in a strange house, playing third wheel to Derek and Scott.

Lydia seems to pick up on Laura’s strange mood. It’s getting late, and normally around this time, Lydia would curl up next to Laura, her head pressed against Laura’s chest, and Laura would turn on House Hunters reruns to watch until she finally falls asleep.

Instead, Lydia says, “Do you want to go out?”

“You have class in the morning,” Laura protests.

“No one teaches anything useful two days before break,” Lydia replies. She holds out a hand; Laura drops the keys to the Camaro into her palm.

They go.

~*~

They drive with the windows all rolled down, even though it’s really too cold to do so. Laura, at least, remembered to bring a jacket; Lydia is just wearing the blouse and jeans she’d been wearing all day. Still, the cold doesn’t seem to bother her. Her cheeks are red, her eyes bright. Lydia drives even faster than Laura across the country roads, and the wind tangles cold fingers in her red hair.

Laura isn’t sure where they’re going, or if they’re going anywhere–she’s spent innumerable nights in this car, driving simply because it’s as close to flying as she can get–but she’s still surprised when Lydia turns off onto a long gravel driveway that ends in front of an unlit cabin.

“Where are we?” Laura asks.

“My family’s lake house,” Lydia says. “I come here sometimes, to get away and think.”

Laura looks at the house skeptically. Geographically, of course, it seems pretty away –their nearest neighbor must be at least a half mile off, and thick woods cover the ground around it. “So, which is it?” she asks. “Do you come here to get away or to think?”

“Both,” Lydia replies.

Laura sighs. “I think those two things are mutually exclusive.”

“Only if you’re trying to get away from your thoughts,” Lydia says softly.

“What else is there to get away from?” Laura asks. “Oh, I forgot–dining hall food. I bet you have a fancy kitchen in there.”

Lydia smiles wryly and reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Laura’s ear. Laura doubts the windblown look suits her as well as it does Lydia. “Come on,” she says. “No one’s here this weekend. Let’s go rustle up some supplies.”

The “supplies” turn out to be a couple of thick blankets, two bottles of white wine, and a half sleeve of Triscuit crackers. Lydia and Laura take their spoils outside to the dock. Lydia, wrapped up in a fuzzy green blanket, removes the cork from one of the wine bottles and takes a sip straight from the bottle. She passes it to Laura.

It’s a clear night. The lake slaps against the dock sleepily and there are more stars in the sky than Laura has ever seen before. She is suddenly, acutely aware of their aloneness. It feels like a living thing in between them. There is no one around for miles. Laura takes a sip of the wine. Lydia watches her.

Laura sets the bottle down. Lydia leans in and kisses her.

They’ve kissed a lot in the past couple of weeks, but they’ve never been alone together, not like this. The dorm walls aren’t exactly soundproof, and it always smells like someone has just burnt popcorn down the hall. It’s not exactly conducive to romance, though Laura and Lydia have made do. Here, on the other hand–the air here smells wet and earthy and the night is only broken by the occasional owl and the sounds of the lake.

Laura tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. It feels like silk against her skin. They trade kisses, soft and lingering. Lydia tilts her head backwards, exposing her long, pale neck. Laura rests her cheek against Lydia’s throat and listens to her pulse.

“You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Laura whispers.

Lydia kisses Laura’s forehead. “Don’t stop, Laura.” Her voice is ragged and hoarse. She slips her hands under Laura’s shirt, her fingernails digging into Laura’s back. “I need you.”

“God,” Laura whispers. She kisses Lydia’s jaw eagerly. Lydia leans back, drawing Laura along with her until they’re laying horizontal on the dock. Laura drags the collar of Lydia’s blouse down far enough to expose the redhead’s collarbone. When Laura begins kissing and sucking on the soft skin there, Lydia gasps. Hesitantly, Laura cups Lydia’s breast with her free hand, running her thumb gently over Lydia’s nipple. The blouse Lydia is wearing is thin, and her bra is unlined–Laura can feel Lydia’s nipple harden at her touch.

Lydia moans. “God, yes. Please, Laura.”

“Do you really want to do this here?” Laura whispers. She’s already breathing heavily.

“Yes,” Lydia hisses, arching her back.

Laura instinctively squeezes Lydia’s breast, eliciting another moan from her partner. She’s sort of straddling one of Lydia’s thighs, and she grinds against it, desperate for contact, for pressure against her clit.

Still, she’s present enough to ask, “Are you sure you’re not– oh– cold?”

Lydia cups Laura’s face her in hands, pulls her down until their mouths crash together. When she releases Laura, Lydia says, “I don’t think I’ll ever be cold again.”

Logically, Laura is pretty sure they’re both going to be cold as fuck when this is all over, but she sure as hell isn’t going to worry about that now. She drags Lydia’s blouse over her head and tosses it aside, admiring the swell of Lydia’s breasts in the lacy blue bra she’s wearing.

“If I’d known we were going to be getting naked, I’d have worn a prettier bra,” Laura comments, running one finger along the edge of Lydia’s bra.

“I love a woman in a sports bra,” Lydia says breathlessly. “I’d want you if you were in a potato sack. In anything. In…nothing.”

“That last one could be arranged,” Laura whispers. She leans over and kisses Lydia again, nibbling her lower lip, enjoying the way their tongues slide against one another as Lydia fumbles with the buttons on her shirt. It only takes a minute before they’re both completely topless. Lydia breaks away from Laura’s lips and captures one of Laura’s brown nipples with her mouth. Her hand reaches up to massage Laura’s other nipple in between two fingers.

“Jesus, Lydia.” Laura grinds against Lydia’s thigh and moans. She’s holding herself up on one elbow, trying to keep from crushing Lydia underneath her, and her free hand fumbles with the button on Lydia’s jeans. It takes her a minute, but she manages to undo the jeans, and she eagerly slides her fingers between Lydia’s labia.

Lydia’s slick and wet and wonderful , and she squeaks when Laura momentarily brushes against her clit. But Laura can’t concentrate, not with Lydia sucking and licking one nipple and then switching to the other, not with the way she’s grinding against Lydia’s thigh. Laura knows it’s going to be over way too soon if they keep it up like this, and she isn’t ready for it to be over. So she leans back, panting, and asks, “Can I go down on you?”

“As if I’d say no,” Lydia retorts.

It turns out that skinny jeans are a little harder to take off than bras or shirts, especially when they’re both trembling with excitement and arousal, but they manage. Lydia’s panties match her bra, and Laura’s a little sad to see them go, but she loses that train of thought once she had her mouth on Lydia. Lydia’s legs are over Laura’s shoulders, her thighs pressed against Laura’s head, and Laura is so turned on that she aches. She can feel the blood pounding between her legs.

Laura starts out rubbing her thumb lightly and repeatedly over Lydia’s clit, licking aimlessly and a little sloppily around her fingers. Lydia whimpers when Laura repositions her hand so that she can insert first one finger, and then two inside her, then replaces her thumb with her mouth, running her tongue back and forth over Lydia’s clit. When Lydia cries out and rocks her hips to press her pussy against Laura’s face, Laura begins to suck gently at her clitoris.

Lydia’s moans gets louder. Her thighs tighten against Laura’s head, she drags her fingers through Laura’s hair–

Unable to ignore the ache between her legs any longer, Laura thrusts her hand between her legs, rubbing against her palm in an attempt to take the edge off. Her mouth stays focused on Lydia. It’s only a couple of minutes longer before she can feel the muscles in Lydia’s legs start to spasm.

“Oh, God, Laura! Lau–oh, yes, fuck!” Lydia’s back arches. Laura pulls her face back, continuing to lick Lydia’s clit until she becomes still beneath Laura.

Pulling back until she’s resting on her heels, Laura shoves a hand down her sweatpants and fucks herself on her fingers until she comes. It only takes a couple of minutes. Lydia watches her through half-closed eyes, and licks her lips.

When Laura crashes onto the blanket next to Lydia, she sighs. Lydia says, “You are so sexy.”

“So are you,” Laura mumbles sleepily.

“We should go inside,” Lydia says, although she makes no effort to move. “I’m cold.”

“Told you so,” Laura replies.

~*~

Laura doesn’t tell Lydia about Derek’s change of Thanksgiving plans, but she’s half afraid Lydia might invite her to Thanksgiving anyways. She isn’t sure she’s up to acting like a normal, functioning college freshman in front of Lydia’s parents for five days straight. But Lydia doesn’t ask, and Laura spends five days on an empty campus, texting Lydia, liking Derek and Scott’s selfies on Instagram, and taking cat naps in the library.

After the fact, losing her virginity isn’t as big of a deal as Laura had thought it would be. It doesn’t really change things, except that now she and Lydia spend several nights a week in Laura’s bed with their shirts off, and Laura tries not to think about how many other girls Lydia’s been with when the redhead goes down on her. It’s not that she’s jealous, exactly; she just sometimes feels inexperienced and inadequate and stupid . It’s completely irrational–Lydia doesn’t seem to have any complaints about her performance–but she can’t seem to help it.

“Sounds like you have some kind of internalized fear of sex. Or maybe relationships in general,” Stiles says, when she tries to explain this feeling to him. She’s not entirely sure when–or why–they became friends, but it’s hard to deny that that’s what they are now.

“Sounds like you’ve actually been doing your reading for your intro psych class,” Laura retorts.

“Hey, you asked for my opinion,” Stiles says. “And my opinion is that you have a lot of crap you’re suppressing. Your ‘happy in love’ act might have Derek and Scott fooled– temporarily– but not me.”

Laura sighs, because he’s probably not wrong. “Any advice, Dr. Freud?”

Stiles spins his laptop to face her. “Cosmo suggests tantric massage,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m sure Lydia would be happy to hel–”

Laura throws a textbook at him.

Orgasms do seem to be the internet’s go-to solution for insomnia, Laura discovers after a little research of her own. Lydia certainly sleeps like the dead after she comes. Laura did too, the first two or three times they had sex, but the past week has been as sleepless as those immediately following the fire. She leaves Lydia asleep in her dorm room at night and wanders around the campus. It’s December and cold out, but she doesn’t always remember to grab her jacket. Her breath makes clouds in the dark night air. She’s always back by morning, but Lydia must wake up at some point in the middle of the night, because she asks where Laura was.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Laura says. “I’m just stressing about finals. You know how it is.”

Lydia eyes Laura dubiously, but she doesn’t press her for further information. Laura is relieved–until Derek brings it up at lunch one day.

“Lydia told you ?” Laura asks disgustedly.

“She’s worried,” Derek says. “Laura, I wish you would talk to someone.”

Laura throws her hands up in the air. “I already told her about the fire! What else do you want?”

Derek sighs. “Telling her about it is a good first step–but it’s not the same thing as talking about it. And if you don’t feel like you can talk about it with us…Laura, maybe you should consider talking to, you know, a professional.”

“You want me to see a shrink,” Laura says flatly.

“The university has free mental health services,” Derek suggests.

“No chance in hell.” Laura crosses her arms. “Besides, you’re one to talk! You didn’t talk to me for months after the fire, Derek! Months! I needed you, and you were just–just–checked out!”

“And I’m sorry about that,” Derek says levelly. “I was grieving, and I didn’t know what to do. I wish I could have been there for you, but–” Derek sighs. “I honestly wasn’t sure if you wanted me to be.”

Laura turns her back on Derek, so she doesn’t have to look directly at him, nut instead peers over her shoulder at his feet. “What about before the fire?” she whispers. “You–you never told me. About Kate.”

Derek looks at the ground. “I know. I just–she had me convinced that if I told anyone, I would, you know, lose her. That we wouldn’t be able to be together.” His voice is almost inaudible when he says, “I understand, if you blame me for the fire.”

“Blame you?” Laura whispers. “Der, you were just a kid. I don’t blame you. I just don’t understand–” Her voice cracks. She swallows hard. “How can you tell me to, to talk about it, like that will make everything okay? How can you act like everything’s okay?”

“It’s not okay,” Derek says softly. “It will never be okay. But, Laura, talking helps. You’re bottling everything up. You barely cried at the funeral, you never talk about Mom or anyone else.”

“I just want to be strong for you and Cora,” Laura says. “I–I wasn’t there for you, before the fire. I should have known, but I–”

“No.” Derek reaches out and pulls her into a hug. “Laura, you can’t think like that. It wasn’t your fault. And–I don’t know what we would have done without you, those first few months after. But you can’t do that forever. You can’t–you shouldn’t feel like you have to make up for something that was never your fault.”

Laura pulls away from him and shrugs. “I guess.”

“Laura,” Derek looks at her. “Promise me you’ll consider talking about this. To me or Lydia or a counselor or, I don’t know, somebody . Promise.”

“I promise,” Laura mumbles, before escaping the room.

~*~

Laura doesn’t go to dinner that night. She doesn’t go back to her dorm. She takes her laptop and sets up camp in a laundry room in the basement of the dormitory. There’s a pretty steady stream of traffic in the evening, but it begins to slow down after ten. Laura gets a diet Pepsi and a pack of crackers from a vending machine to eat for dinner.

It’s a little past midnight when Lydia finds her.

“You aren’t answering my texts,” Lydia says, sounding hurt. “I thought we were over the whole thing where you avoid me.”

“Yes. Instead, you just talk about me to my brother behind my back,” Laura says. She’s sitting on top of a dryer, leaning against a set of stack washers next to her. It’s impossible to keep herself from looking at Lydia–she’s like a magnet, or a black hole, Laura thinks bitterly–but she does her best to limit her looks to brief glances.

Lydia scowls when Laura refuses to meet her eyes. Anger makes her pale skin flushed and splotchy. “Is that really what this is about? I’m worried about you, Laura, and you sure as hell aren’t talking to me!”

“Why is everyone always on me to talk about things?” Laura snaps. She slams her open palm against the dryer. “Jesus Christ! Sorry I don’t just break down and spill my guts to you every time I have a bad day!”

“If it was just a bad day, I wouldn’t be worried!” Lydia says. She takes a couple of steps towards Laura, but stops in the middle of the laundry room. “Laura, you’ve barely slept at all in the last week. You can barely concentrate on your schoolwork. You’re distant, and, no offense, you’re moody as fuck!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Laura says.

Lydia throws her arms up in the air. “It’s not about wanting you to say anything.”

“Then I don’t understand what this is about!”

“Of course you do!” Lydia stops and takes a deep breath. Exhales. Starts to pace before forcing herself to stop and lean against a wall. “Look, Laura, I didn’t mean to start this. I don’t want to fight with you.” She doesn’t look at Laura as she says it.

Laura gets off of the dryer she’s been perched on top of and crosses the room to stand in front of Lydia. Moving slowly, carefully, she reaches up and cups Lydia’s face in her hands. “Lydia, this is–it’s all new to me. And I like spending time with you. You’re amazing.”

“But?” Lydia whispers.

Laura pulls her hands away, looks away. “But maybe you should think about if this is what you really want or if–if this, having me, fixing me, is just another challenge to you.”

Lydia’s breath hisses through her clenched teeth. “That’s not fair.”

“Maybe not,” Laura admits. “But that’s how I feel.”

“Laura,” Lydia says, “I love you. I know that this is–it’s crazy, and it’s fast, and believe it or not, it’s new for me too. I’ve never felt like this about anyone else. This isn’t about the challenge, or the chase, or whatever you think this is for me. I love you. And I want you to be happy. And–I need you to trust me, if this is going to work. Trust that I care about you, and that I want you to be happy…and trust me enough to talk to me, instead of running away.”

“I want to but–I don’t know if I can,” Laura says softly.

“Well then,” Lydia says, “it looks like we both have things to think about.” She leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Laura’s cheek, and leaves Laura standing in the laundry room, staring blankly at the wall.

~*~

Laura had thought that Lydia would avoid her after the fight, or the confrontation, or whatever it was, but she doesn’t. They eat meals together in the dining hall. They hold hands when they walk across campus. They drag chairs together in the library, and takes turns bringing coffee from the campus Starbucks. With Lydia’s help, Laura drags herself through finals, hyped up on espresso. Lydia does not spend nights in Laura’s dorm room. They don’t have sex. Laura doesn’t sleep.

At midnight or one or two a.m., when they pack up their things and abandon the library, Laura heads to the Camaro and drives. There’s a little 24 hour diner downtown that serves watery coffee and some of the best damn doughnuts she’s ever had. One night, she goes back up to Lydia’s lakehouse, driving slowly past the house but not stopping; out here, the night is too dark and too quiet for Laura to face it alone.

After Thanksgiving, Laura is a little afraid that Derek might leave her to spend Christmas in their empty little apartment alone. The dorms are closing for the four week break. But when she gets the nerve to ask him, he says that Scott only lives an hour away from them, and he can always make a trip up if they want to see each other.

The night before the dorms close, Stiles whines and pleas until they all agree to go to a party at a house half of a mile from campus. He’s already drinking a PBR when Laura gets there. She eyes it with distaste. The taste of cheap beer has not grown on her since homecoming.

“I made it through finals without having to rewrite any boring economics essays,” Stiles tells her defensively. “I deserve this.”

“And I had to spend all week listening to you complain about your boring economics essay,” Derek says dryly. “Which means I deserve at least twice of whatever you drink. I’m going to get a beer. Do you want anything?”

That last question is directed at Laura and Scott. Scott accepts amiably, beaming at Derek, but Laura shakes her head. “I want to find Lydia,” she says. “She ought to be here by now.”

Derek and Scott amble off in the direction of the kitchen in search of the cooler. Laura begins to poke her head into the rooms downstairs. The house is huge and old and there’s a room for everything–formal living, regular living, formal dining, regular dining, a study, a gameroom–and her chest aches when she thinks about their old house, set up much the same way, burnt to ashes. She doesn’t realize that Stiles had followed her until he says, “So, what’s up with you and the ever-gorgeous Lydia?”

“If she ever heard you say that, she would crush you like a bug,” Laura warns.

“I think she would pretend to crush me, but would be secretly flattered. Well, flattered might be a strong word, but I still thinks she likes being admired.” Laura shoots hims a skeptical look over her shoulder. “No? Okay. We’ll call it fifty/fifty on the likelihood of actual crushing.”

“ I’ll crush you if you don’t shut up,” she threatens.

“Laura!” someone calls. Laura looks around and spots Allison across the room, waving cheerfully. With her is Lydia, who smiles when Laura catches her eyes.

“Go watch out for Derek and Scott,” Laura tells Stiles. “We’ll find you later.”

“Fine, fine,” Stiles replies. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

Even across the room, Laura can see that Lydia’s face is already flushed a splotchy pink. Though Lydia complains about this particular effect that drinking has on her fair complexion, Laura has always found it to be pretty cute. She fights her way across the crowded room, eventually getting close enough to bump Allison’s shoulder with her own and squeeze Lydia’s hand in greeting.

“How long have you guys been here?” Laura asks. She has to shout to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Long enough for Lydia to get her ass kicked at quarters by a group of lacrosse players,” Allison replies, snickering.

“Oh, go screw yourself,” Lydia retorts. “I was at a disadvantage! Lacrosse players have–um–naturally strong hand-eye coordination. Or something.”

“Honey, you’re drunk,” Allison says.

“And it’s not even ten,” Laura says, shaking her head.

Lydia jabs a finger into Laura’s chest. “Like you’re one to talk. I was there for the peach schnapps incident, ma’am. And I’m not drunk. Just–tipsy.”

“And wondering what you’re going to do for four weeks without the library, I’m sure,” Laura says.

Lydia reaches out and pulls Laura into a hug, burying her face in Laura’s hair. “Wondering what I’m going to do for four weeks without you,” she protests.

Laura wraps her arms around Lydia and kisses her temple. “Yes, I’ll miss you too,” she says. “You don’t see me getting drunk over it.”

“That was the lacrosse players,” Lydia replies sleepily.

“Do you mind watching her?” Allison interrupts. She smiles apologetically at Laura. “Kira’s around here somewhere, and we’re supposed to go to another party later with some of her classmates. I think Lydia might need some help getting home on the sooner side of things.”

“I can hear you,” Lydia mumbles, her face cradled against the curve of Laura’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I got her,” Laura says. “I do owe her after the peach schnapps incident.”

After Allison leaves, Laura guides Lydia into a chair, coaxing a glass of water into her. About halfway into the second glass of water, Lydia begins to complain that it’s too hot in the house. “We can go sit out in the backyard,” Laura says, helping Lydia to her feet. “Did you bring a coat?”

“No,” Lydia says. She wraps an arm around Laura’s waist, allowing most of her weight to rest against the taller girl. Laura has to put her own arm around Lydia to hold her up.

“Come on, now,” Laura teases. “I know you’re not that drunk.”

“Maybe I just like having the excuse to snuggle you,” Lydia replies. She tips her head up to look at Laura and smiles.

Laura thinks about the past week, about nights spent alone. “You know you don’t need an excuse,” she says, but her voice is a little hollow. “Or at least, you didn’t use to.”

Lydia sighs and straightens up, taking her weight off Laura. Her arm drops away. “Laura–”

“I don’t think now is the best time to talk about it,” Laura says, cutting her off. “C’mon, let’s get you some fresh air.”

There’s people out in the backyard, but it’s not nearly as packed as the house, and there’s no roof to hold in the heat from their bodies and the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol. Lydia lowers herself onto the peeling steps leading from the deck to the grass, and after a second’s hesitation, Laura sits next to her.

There’s a heated discussion about s’mores taking place in the yard. Within a few minutes, there’s a group of people piling logs and twigs and dry pine straw in the middle of a circle of dirt that’s clearly been used to host bonfires before. The pine straw catches fire first, but it quickly spreads to the twigs. Almost everyone is standing around the fire at this point, holding their hands towards the flames for warmth. A couple of guys continue to pile wood onto the fire. It grows.

Laura watches as a bit of fiery pine straw is picked up by the wind. It blows towards her, narrowly missing her face. Her muscles are locked in place. She can’t move.

The fire is growing taller. The smoke–it’s getting thicker. It doesn’t smell like a campfire, doesn’t smell like childhood memories of camping in their backyard. The smoke is black and acrid and she can smell flesh burning she can see people falling to the ground the fire is growing it’s growing she can’t see the edges and people are screaming, screaming–

“Lydia, if you were straight, I would gladly marry you and have your babies, but right now you need to back up! ”

The voice is so at odds with what is going on that Laura snaps back into something resembling–consciousness, if not reality. It’s like time has bent, and she is seeing two scenes superimposed over one another–Derek on his knees in front of their burning house. Two firefighters slinging to Uncle Peter’s arms, trying to keep him from running back into the house as he screams. Another firefighter, Cora’s body limp in his arms. A chorus of screams as the glass in an upstairs window–Matthew’s bedroom window–explodes and fire roars outwards. That’s one image.

In the other, Stiles’s face is too close to hers, blocking out her view of the bonfire. Lydia hovering anxiously behind him, her eyeliner smeared across one cheek. Laura’s fingernails are digging into her jeans. Her breath is jagged and harsh against her throat which, despite the lack of smoke, still burns like the night of the house fire.

In both, tears stream down her face.

“Go find Derek,” Stiles says, and Lydia is off, skating nervously along the edge of the stairs like she’s afraid to be too close to Laura. “Laura, can you hear me? You’re having a panic attack. You’re okay, you’re safe. Derek’s going to be here in a minute, okay?”

“Der,” Laura gasps.

“Yep, that’s right,” Stiles says. “You need to slow down your breathing, okay? I’m going to count–trying breathing in for five seconds, holding for two, and then breathing out, okay?”

Laura blacks out before Stiles reaches five.

~*~

Laura is flat on her back on Derek’s bed, staring at the ceiling. Sunlight pours through a crack in the blinds, illuminating the room. Soon, Derek’s alarm will go off and they’ll have to drag their suitcases out to the Camaro and head home for the break.

She tries not to think about the night before. Calling it an overreaction is an understatement. And it’s not like this is the first time she’s seen a fire since the night their family died. There’s a fancy electric fireplace in the student center, and there were bonfires on campus homecoming weekend. She can’t stand the thought that she’s getting worse, that she’s falling apart, that she might spend the rest of her life flinching at candles and sirens and the smell of burnt ramen in the dorm kitchens.

She’d came to consciousness in Derek’s arms. She’d insisted that he put her down, but he still kept his arm around her for the entire walk back to the dorm, which was probably a good thing, because she hadn’t totally regained feeling in her feet. It was cold and quiet and the only thing Derek said to her the whole way back was “You need help, Laura.”

Derek and Stiles must have made some kind of agreement, because Derek is sleeping in Stiles’s bed and Stiles is nowhere to be seen–he’d probably crashed on Scott’s floor. Laura rolls over and is busy staring at the cinderblock wall when someone knocks on the door.

Derek tries to sit up on top of Stiles’s lofted bed and barely manages to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. His hair sticks up in soft tufts. “Can you get that?” he grumbles. “Stiles probably forgot his key or something.”

Laura sighs and crawls out of bed. She’s still in her clothes from yesterday, and they’re wrinkled from being slept in. She takes a second to run her fingers through her hair before she opens the door.

Lydia stares at her from across the threshold. “Hey,” she says.

Laura stares back at her. A second too late, she replies, “Hey.”

“I went by your room, but no one answered,” Lydia says. “I figured you’d be here–or at least that, you know, Derek or Stiles could tell me that you’re okay.”

“Okay,” Laura echoes softly.

“Yeah,” Lydia replies. “I mean, you seem,” she gestures in a way that somehow makes Laura even more self-conscious of her messy hair and day-old clothing, “fine. All things considered.”

“All things considered,” Laura says hollowly.

The repetitiveness of the conversation seems to annoy Lydia a little. Her cheeks flush and the corners of her mouth turn down. “Yeah.”

Laura shakes her head, trying to clear out the fogginess that has surrounded her all morning. “I’m, uh, sorry. For freaking out on you.”

Lydia’s shoulders slump. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Laura says again.

“It’s not your fault,” Lydia says softly. “I’m glad Stiles showed up. I had just started, like, shaking you, when I realized you weren’t responding–I completely lost it. I didn’t know what to do.”

Laura looks at the ground.

“Anyways,” Lydia says with forced cheerfulness. “I thought we could get together sometime over the break. Hang out, maybe talk about things, if you’re up to it. Not before Christmas–I’ve got Christmas parties and all kinds of family crap, my mom would kill me if I missed any of it. But maybe after New Years–”

“No,” Laura says.

“No?” Lydia asks. She purses her lips.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Laura says. “Look, Lydia, I’m clearly not ready for a relationship, or whatever this is. There’s just–I have a lot going on right now. And I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get anymore, you know, involved.”

“Involved?” Lydia says. For a second, she looks surprised and worse, hurt, like Laura has slapped her, but her expression quickly dissolves into anger. “Laura, I am trying to be here for you, but you are sure as hell not making it easy for me!”

“Oh, you’re trying to be here for me, are you?” Laura retorts. “What, do you want a medal? ‘Look at me, selflessly attempting to nurse my crazy girlfriend back to help!’”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” Lydia snaps.

“Go away, Lydia,” Laura says quietly. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

Lydia opens her mouth, closes it. Blinks twice. “Fine,” she says.

Laura shuts the door quietly.

Derek is still in bed, half-sitting with his weight resting on his elbows. He stares at her, eyebrows furrowed, and she can tell that he’s–he’s annoyed, but worse, he’s worried, and that feels like a knife to her gut. She’s supposed to take care of him, goddamnit.

Because she can’t, she just snarls, “I don’t want to hear it from you, either.”

Derek just looks at her. “Fine,” he says finally. His voice is weary. “Let’s go home.”

~*~

Being back at the apartment is weird, partially because of how–well– restful it is. Laura remembers resenting the quietness of the apartment building just a few short months before, but for the first couple of days at home, she revels in it. Part of the difference, she thinks, is due to the change she sees in Derek. That change is even more stark now that they’re home, now that they’re around each other basically 24/7 again.

Four months at school; four months of dating Scott, who is inhumanly nice; four months of hanging out with Stiles, who can make anyone laugh, even if they’re just laughing at him–the last four months have made Derek into someone not unlike who he was before the fire. He doesn’t smile as easily, and he sometimes fall silent in the middle of conversations–but he talks to Laura about professors he’s had and hated and books he’s read and loved. He hugs her when she makes breakfast for dinner. He watches Christmas movies and makes sarcastic commentary for the first twenty minutes before he becomes completely engrossed, the big sap.

Cora surprises them when she shows up to the apartment two days before Christmas. “Airplane tickets were on sale,” she says. “So I decided that I could probably tolerate you two losers for a couple of days.”

Laura isn’t fooled, and neither is Derek, but they both tactfully refrain from mentioning how Cora’s eyes water up when she hugs them.

They exchange gifts on Christmas morning under a scrawny, half-dead Christmas tree that Derek found at Walmart. Cora makes snide comments, but helps Derek string lights around it. “It was the only one they had left,” Derek says plaintively. “It was on clearance!”

They even take turns facetiming Uncle Peter on Cora’s iPad. Their conversations don’t last long–Peter is celebrating Christmas with his new girlfriend in the Bahamas.

“Gross,” Cora says once they’re all done talking. She wrinkles her nose.

“He deserves to be happy,” Derek says firmly, but Laura privately agrees with Cora. Peter’s girlfriend is far too young for him.

Laura manages to get a good night’s sleep about one night in three, which is not a lot but still much better than she’s been doing since the fire. The rest of her nights alternative between insomnia and nightmares about fire and smoke and Derek and Cora crumbling to ashes in her hands as she desperately tries to put them back

together.

“You seem to be doing a little better,” Derek says, the day after Cora leaves to go back to Argentina.

“A little,” Laura agrees. “Part of it was getting to see you and Cora, I think. But part of it–I don’t know.”

“It’s being away from school, isn’t it?” Derek asks. Laura nods. “I thought so.”

“It was nice to have a distraction for a little while,” Laura says. “But–I guess, having to interact with all those people, all the time. Doing homework. Going to class. I feel like a senior citizen, sometimes. I just–don’t always have the energy. And then, worrying about what I’m not doing makes it so hard to sleep. Which is a pretty big downward spiral.”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “I felt that way for a long time.” He reaches out, clasps Laura’s hands in his own. “Laura? I’m sorry if I’m beating a dead horse but–you should do what makes you happy. Or at least, what makes you okay.”

“Yeah,” Laura says.

That night, sleep does not come. She spends a long time fingering a business card, given to her months ago. “Everyone reacts to trauma differently,” she says quietly. “Everyone heals differently.”

~*~

The next day, she makes an appointment with a therapist the social worker recommends.

The therapist listens to Laura stumble through a brief description of the fire, of sleepless nights and the panic attack at the fire and her breakup with Lydia and the constant feelings of fatigue, and sets up a weekly appointment for her. He also refers her to a psychiatrist. Laura makes an appointment with the psychiatrist, where she has to grit her teeth and go through the whole story again. The psychiatrist talks about PTSD and depression and SSRIs, gives her a prescription and a thorough warning about side effects, and schedules her for another appointment in four weeks.

Two days after that, she makes breakfast for dinner and makes Derek sit at the dining room table instead of the couch. “I’m not going back to school this semester.”

“I know,” Derek says.

Laura looks at her food. “I don’t want you to be disappointed in me or–or feel like I’m abandoning you,” she says.

Derek looks at her, surprised. “Lo, I’m not disappointed in you,” he says softly. “And I don’t feel abandoned. This is what I meant before. You need to do what is best for you. And–I’m happy you’re finally getting help.”

“Me too,” Laura says. She gives Derek a watery smile.

“I don’t–I don’t like the idea of you living here alone,” Derek says. “Maybe I should look at taking a semester at Tech. Or I could take a semester off–”

“No,” Laura says hurriedly. “No, I don’t want that.”

“Well, it’s your choice,” Derek says, although he looks like wants to argue. “I mean–whatever makes you happiest. Right?”

Laura thinks about it. Admittedly, she’s not really looking forward to living by herself, but she desperately wants Derek to return to BHU and to Scott. She’s not sure she could bare the guilt otherwise, even if Derek if offering. She isn’t sure what to do, and she knows that if Derek senses so much as a hint of doubt about living alone, he’ll drop out of BHU after all. So after dinner, she texts Stiles.

Stiles: it sounds like u need a roommate butternut

Laura: ewww

Stiles: no to butternut? i thought it had great potential

Stiles: that je ne sais quoi

Laura: i’m going to ignore u before u ruin our beautiful friendship

Laura: but seriously how do normal people find roommates

Stiles: craigslist

Laura: that is a terrible idea

Laura: pretty sure craigslist is for serial killers & perverts

Stiles: leave it 2 me

Which is how Laura ends up with a posting on Craigslist that reads: “Roommates wanted - 3 bedroom apartment downtown - NO PERVERTS OR SERIAL KILLERS - call # below if interested.” She’s pretty sure Stiles meant it as a joke, but sure enough, by the time Derek is packing up to return to BHU, Laura has two roommates lined up to move in. Erica has blonde hair, hooded eyes, and blood red lipstick. Despite Stiles assuring her that Erica made it through his “specialized, son-of-the-police-chief-approved screening process,” Laura still isn’t entirely sure she’s not a serial killer. Isaac has angelic curls and killer cheekbones and sort of comes off as a dick, but Stiles assures her that he is really a marshmallow on the inside.

“I get the feeling you were screening people on looks alone,” Laura tells Stiles when she talks to him on the phone.

“Your lack of faith wounds me,” he replies.

“I can’t believe you let Stiles pick out random roommates for you over living with your own twin,” Derek shouts in the background.

“Listening to you pine for Scott would disrupt my healing process!” Laura yells back.

“Ow!” Stiles says. “You’re not on speakerphone, Laura! You nearly just blew out my eardrum.”

“Make sure you relay the message,” Laura says airly.

Stiles sighs, sounding much put upon. “I will.”

On the last day of registration, Laura goes to the community college–referred to by most of the locals simply as “Tech”–and registers for a class on the history of landscaping. Afterwards, she drives around and puts in applications at a couple of nurseries and home improvement stores that have gardening centers. It seems like the sort of thing her therapist is always encouraging her to do.

Laura goes to class, does her readings. She becomes friendly with Erica, who is wickedly funny–she can see why Stiles liked her–and discovers that Isaac is, as promised, a complete marshmallow. She hangs out with Derek and Scott and sometimes Stiles when they come home on the weekends to visit her, and sends them snapchats of the cookies Isaac makes and of Erica’s crazy outfits when they don’t.

She goes to the appointments with the therapist and the appointments with the psychiatrist and has the dosage of her medicine carefully adjusted and readjusted. She gets a job with a local nursery, and spends twenty-five hours a week hauling bags of dirt around. Sometimes she sleep and sometimes she doesn’t, but she does her best to adhere to the new schedule.

She doesn’t talk to Lydia, even though she thinks she might want to.

~*~

In late April, Laura goes to visit Derek at BHU.

As much as she likes her job at the nursery and her classmates at Tech, Laura has been feeling, well–kind of restless, lately. She spends an afternoon flipping through the BHU catalog, thinking about all the cool classes in landscaping and design she’ll be able to take if she ever makes it through her intro classes. She talks with her therapist, who agrees. She’s going to re-enroll at BHU for the fall semester.

Of course, there’s paperwork involved. From Laura’s brief experience with academic bureaucracy, she knows that things will go smoother if she can turn in some of it in person, so she can flutter her eyelashes at certain members of the administrative staff and look pathetic and downtrodden for others. And, if she’s being honest with herself, maybe this is a test–a chance to see if she can really go back without falling to pieces. So that Friday, Laura packs herself a dufflebag, loads it into the Camaro, and heads up to BHU.

When she gets to Derek’s dorm room, he grabs her into a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re going to be back,” he says.

Laura smiles at him. “So am I.”

“Oh my god, I am too stressed to deal with wonder twin cuteness in my own dorm room!” Stiles cries from his desk. “Please go have this reunion elsewhere!” After a second, he adds, “Laura, I will be happy to see you after I turn in this paper at precisely 11:59.”

“Understood,” Laura says solemnly.

“We better go,” Derek says in a mock whisper. “Before he subjects us to the entire history of male circum–”

“Ugh!” Stiles shouts, burying his face in his hands. “Would you guys just let that go already!”

Laura snickers.

She, Derek, and Scott end up wandering around campus. The atmosphere is mixed–there’s just a week and a half until finals, but it’s a Friday and the weather is warm and inviting. Students play frisbee or nap in the shade or spread out their textbooks across a blanket in the grass, highlighting entire passages lazily. Laura hasn’t seen Scott much this semester–he’s only came home with Derek two or three times–and she’s recounting one of Isaac’s many baking disasters to him when she looks up and sees–

Red hair.

Laura freezes. It takes her a couple of seconds to confirm that yes, that is Lydia, standing fifteen feet away on the steps of an academic building, looking at them. Derek and Scott have stopped too, and once Derek realizes what has caught Laura’s attention, he looks at her with furrowed brows.

“Give me a second,” Laura says without looking away from Lydia. “I’ll catch up with you guys.”

Derek hesitates. “Are you sure…?” he says, but he doesn’t seem to know what he’s asking her.

Laura sighs. “I’m sure, Der. I left things…badly, and that’s on me. I should probably apologize.”

Derek looks like he wants to argue that point, but Scott loops his arm around Derek’s and draws him away. Laura hears him say, “It’s not like they can avoid each other forever, if Laura’s coming back–there’s less than six thousand students here, they’re bound to run into each other…” before they’re out of earshot.

Yes, they’re bound to run into one another, and she might as well get this confrontation out of the way now, when she has a couple months at home in front of her, time to lick her wounds. Laura approaches Lydia slowly, half-expecting her to run away–but of course, Lydia was never one to be afraid of confrontation. Her mouth is set and her hazel eyes are unreadable, but she is as beautiful as ever.

When Laura gets within a couple of feet of Lydia, she stops. Lydia glances over her cooly. “Can I help you?” she asks. Her voice is brisk.

It takes Laura a second to get up the nerve to say, “We should talk.”

Lydia sighs. Her shoulders slump. “I have an exam in ten minutes. Let’s get coffee tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Laura says.

Lydia looks away from Laura, towards the clumps of students lazing in the sun. “You have my number,” Lydia says. She turns on her heel and walks into the building. Laura watches her go, knees wobbling, before walking slowly to catch up with Scott and Derek.

~*~

They arrange to meet at the campus Starbucks at 11:30 the next morning. Laura gets there early and buys them both a coffee–a latte for Lydia and a decaf iced coffee for herself. She tries to limit her caffeine consumption most days–too much makes her heart race and her hands shake. She wills herself not to look at the door to the coffee shop.

At exactly eleven, Lydia gracefully swoops into the chair across from Laura and eyes the latte. “For me?” she asks.

Laura smiles wanly. “It’s tradition,” she says.

They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. Laura’s palms are sweating, and she can feel her heart rate increase when she realizes that she should probably be the one to break the silence. Despite a fairly sleepless night the night before, she hadn’t figured out what she would say today.

Breathe slowly , she reminds herself firmly. And start with the simple things .

“I want to say that I’m sorry,” Laura says, fighting to keep her voice steady. “For…the way I left things. I had a lot going on, but it wasn’t fair for me to lash out at you.

“But,” Laura pauses, trying to get her words into order. “I’m not sorry for some things. I’m not sorry for leaving school. I needed some time to figure things out, and that’s helped a lot. And–I’m not sorry for breaking things off with you, just the way it happened. You were–a distraction, for me. Being with you made it easier to not think about the problems I was having, at least at first. But it didn’t make them go away. And maybe I needed to get away from you to realize that.”

“I’m sorry too,” Lydia says. “I’m sorry for pushing you to talk when you didn’t want to. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive. I’ve thought about that a lot, recently. Once I started to get over the hurt feelings. I should have tried harder to be there for you. Even if it was just as friends.”

Laura hesitates, then rests her hand on top of Lydia’s. “I wouldn’t have let you, not at first,” she says seriously. “I had– have –some problems with trust. It’s something I’m working on.”

“Well,” Lydia says, trying to smile. “I had– have– some problems with perfectionism, and trying to fix things people don’t need or want me to fix. It’s something I’m working on.”

Laura laughs. “We’re just a mess, aren’t we?”

“Apparently,” Lydia says. “Laura, I know it might be too little, too late, but I’d like to be friends now.”

Laura squeezes Lydia’s hand. “I’d like that too. I’m coming back to BHU in the fall–you might have guessed that already, I guess–and it would be nice to have a friend other than Stiles. And Derek, of course.”

“Of course. You can’t rely on Stilinski for life advice, honestly .” Lydia sniffs.

“Alright, then,” Laura says, clicking her coffee cup against Lydia’s. “To friendship.”

~*~

Epilogue: 2.5 Years Later

“Ugh,” Laura says, collapsing on the couch in their living room. “I can’t believe there’s only one hundred and ninety-seven days until graduation.”

Lydia looks over at her coolly from her position at the dining room table, surrounded by workbooks. “Laura,” she says, “You cannot start counting down yet. It’s only October, for god’s sake. Can’t you wait until January or something?”

“I think you would be more excited if you weren’t about to sign yourself up for eight years of schooling,” Laura says sagely.

Lydia snorts. “The only way it’s going to take me eight years to finish my PhD is if I spend two of them in a coma,” she argues.

Allison pokes her head out of one of the bedroom doors. “Eight years is the average time it takes to finish a PhD program, Lydia, god. Try not to rub it in, okay?”

“And stop studying and go out with me,” Laura adds lazily. “It’s a Friday, and we all know you’re gonna knock your GREs out of the park. Let’s go have some fun.”

“Studying is fun,” Lydia grumbles.

“Nuh-uh, you can fool the other library nerds with that kind of talk, but you can’t fool me,” Laura says. “I want to go swimming. Let’s hit up your lake house. Allison, you in?”

Allison shakes her head. “Isaac and I are going out tonight,” she says, her cheeks flushed.

Laura sighs mournfully. “I don’t know why I ever introduced you two,” she says. “Come on, Lyds, what do you say? Swimming? Lakehouse? Movie marathon afterwards?”

Lydia resists a little while longer, complaining about her work and how cold the water is going to be this time of year, but Laura wins out–she nearly always does, when it comes to Lydia. She throws her swimsuit and pajamas and a change of clothes for the morning into a duffle bag and basically dances her way out to Lydia’s car. Lydia follows at a more reasonable gait.

Because Lydia doesn’t take defeat sitting down, they listen to Tchaikovsky the whole way out to the lake. Laura doesn’t complain as much as she usually might, which makes Lydia eye her suspiciously–but hey, what can she say? She’s happy.

Still, Laura doesn’t want to ruin the surprise, so she tries to act extra surly for the second half of the car ride.

She has to talk Lydia out of stopping somewhere for dinner, but they finally make it to the lake house a little after dark. “Come on,” Laura tells Lydia, a little giddy. “Let’s go out to the dock!” She breaks into a half-jog.

“I am too old to have sex outdoors, Laura Anne Hale!” Lydia shouts after her. “So don’t even think about it!”

“Not everything is about sex, Lydia!” Laura calls back gleefully.

She had driven up to the lake house earlier that day to set everything up. There’s a little folding table positioned on the dock, with a checkered tablecloth over it and a vase of red roses in the middle. There’s a bottle of wine and a box of crackers set out, and a travel cooler filled with cheese on one of the chairs. Laura is lighting the little candles when Lydia crests the hill and stops in her tracks. She covers her mouth with her hands.

“Happy six month anniversary!” Laura says, throwing her hands into the air.

“You sneak!” Lydia accuses. “What were you going to do if I didn’t agree to come out here?”

“I knew you would agree,” Laura says smugly. “You always do.”

Lydia wraps her arms around her girlfriend and gives her an enthusiastic kiss on the mouth. Laura tangled her fingers in Lydia’s hair, kissing her girlfriend slowly and deeply. By the time she pulled away, Lydia was panting slightly.

“You know,” Lydia said, attempting to save face, “the whole concept of a six month anni -versary is a contradictory. Anniversary literally means year.”

“Hey,” Laura says softly. “We’ve got to seize the moment, right? You want some cheese?”

“Oh, I think I have something else in mind,” Lydia says, grinning.

“I have some stuff to make dinner inside the cabin if you–” Laura begins. She’s cut off when Lydia shoves her into the lake. “Hey!” she sputters. “Rude! You’re lucky I didn’t have my phone in my pocket!”

Lydia just laughs. “Watch out!” she cries, and jumps into the water.

“You witch,” Laura complains when Lydia resurfaces. Her teeth are already chattering–the water is chilly this time of year. “I brought my swimsuit for a reason.”

“Oh?” Lydia says, raising one eyebrow. “I thought we might try…skinny-dipping.” She begins to unbutton her blouse, which is plastered to her skin.

“I thought you were too old to have sex outdoors,” Laura points out.

“Well, since we’re seizing the moment,” Lydia says, “I guess I can make an exception.” When they kiss, Laura feels the warmth from her head to her toes.