#normal gets his PE clothes

[milktrician]

who the fuck is this old fart

[octuscle]

Howdy, Support! I'm a 22yo twink working at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. Only good part about my job is uh..."servicing" the passing truckers. One of 'em is a real beast of a man; late thirties, tall, burly and hairy, with a big, solid beer/roid gut that's always straining against his filthy tanktop. Everytime he stops by, we have a beer shotgun contest right in front of everyone. Loser blows the winner in the stalls. I normally enjoy losing (not that I have a choice), but this time, I want him to meet his match...literally! I want to drink him under the table, and with each beer I down, I want to feel my gut grow heavier and larger as my work clothes turn into a stained tanktop and I gradually transform into a hulking, hairy trucker that stinks of sweat, just like him. I've programmed all the relevant settings for height, muscle, hair, BO, attitude and clothing, but I just realized I don't know how to sync the transformation to an event trigger like shotgunning the beers, much less on how to make it gradual! Please help me, he's due today!

I love challenges… First of all, I'll add one more skill to your traits. "Stable up to 3.5 per mille". I don't know how much your crush can take. But now you've got a damn good chance of drinking the guy under the table. However, you should manage at least 2.0 per mille. Because your transformation will take place in parallel with your blood alcohol level. Linear, until you have reached 2.0 per mille. At 2.0 per mille, the transformation is complete.

It's around 8 p.m. when your buddy finally comes in the door. Like you said: a beast of a man. The fist bump he gives you almost breaks your forearm bones. Beast of a man? You're miles or 2.0 per mille away from that. You are cute. But a twink. Not a man.

The regulars know what to expect. They chant "Booze! Booze! Booze!" One of them shouts that you're in desperate need of a protein shot. The others roar. Your buddy orders 20 cans of beer. He shouts to his colleagues that there will definitely be some left for them. He looks at you, winks and licks his lips. He has no idea.

The first can of beer. It really hits you. 0.3 per mille. One seventh of your way gone in one go. You feel a bit dizzy. You've been king of the highway for two years now. Well, maybe prince of the highway. You haven't put much weight on your ribs yet. But the good food at the truck stops and the hard work loading your truck are already having a bit of an effect. Your arms are no longer as thin as twigs.

The second beer. It didn't go quite so quickly. You have to burp loudly. Your buddy follows your example. 0.56 per mille. You've been driving your 7.5-ton baby through the countryside for over three and a half years. Does you good. Not as skinny as you used to be. You look healthy. Maybe a little red in the face. Drunk.

After the third beer you have over 0.8 per mille. Another burp. You need a piss. You stand with your legs apart in front of the urinal to avoid peeing on your boots. You take out your cheesy beauty from your dirty jockstraps. And empty your bulging bladder. Wash your hands? That's for twinks. You simply wipe your hands on your dirty Wranglers.

Janet brings you some onion rings with your beer. Good idea. After the toilet break, you finish your fourth beer almost in one go. Your buddy has noticeable problems. Your blood alcohol level is over 1.0 per mille. This competition between you and your colleague has been going on for about seven years. In the trucker scene, your competitions are small highlights. As soon as it is clear when and where you will next get drunk under the table and then disappear to the stalls, new routes are planned. Service stations know that you'll bring in good sales and are keen to host the competition. There used to be a lot of betting on winning and losing. Your buddy has been unbeaten for seven years. There's not much betting anymore. The odds on you winning are huge. But nobody expects that anyway.

The next beer. At 1.26 per mille, you start to falter. Your buddy weighs a few more kilograms than your 100. Maybe you're already a little over 100 - you broke that magic barrier a few weeks ago on your 30th birthday. Eat, work hard and lift iron in the evening. That shapes your body. And beer. Lots of beer. To the delight of the audience, you interrupt your drinking contest for a short burping contest. The landlord actually has a device to measure the volume. You lose. That's clear. You lack the resonance body…

The next beer is a big miss for both you and your buddy. Your dirty tank tops are now wet from the beer. But that was a quick round of drinking, so it happens. You feel a bit dizzy. Your buddy is already looking extremely glassy-eyed. A murmur goes round the room. Should you really stand a chance?

After the seventh beer, you both have to go for a piss. Shit, why are you doing this to yourselves? So that one of you can blow the other? You do that as often as you can see each other anyway. And luckily your paths cross from time to time. "Dude, has your beast grown?" slurs your buddy as you stand swaying in front of the urinals and can no longer aim and hit the target very well. "You bet your life, get ready for a lot, bro," you slur back. "And now give me a kiss, I can't wait any longer."

You're too drunk to remember to turn your caps backwards. You push his cap off his head and it falls into a puddle of urine. Damn, it's seen worse. You stagger back to your beer cans. After the eighth beer, your first goal is achieved. 2.0 per mille blood alcohol. Spread over a proud 120 kilograms of your 35-year-old body. A passionate trucker for 13 years. Your 36-ton beast is basically your home and your family. Hehehe, there are a few other people in the family too. Mike here next to you, for example. You rip open the ninth can and empty it almost at record speed. Shit, you're going to be sick. Mike opens the can, takes a sip. And stumbles towards the toilet. He can't reach the toilet bowl. But at least he throws up in the sink.

When he comes back, he looks at you with glazed eyes. He falls to his knees in front of you to the loud roar of the audience and tries to open your trousers with his drunken head. You have to laugh. "Not here, not now, Buddie" You pull him up. Let him sober up a bit first. You should both enjoy the moment when he sucks you off for the first time!

[adventuringblind]

So Powerful, So Vulnerable

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mafia AU, more crack than anything with the way I wrote it.

Summary: Lando has a meeting on neutral ground. Oscar has to make the switch. How'd she get caught in a petty crossfire?

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, gun violence, knives, blood,

Notes: This was far more fun to write than I expected. Another request done!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

She sighs, watching Lando hit his head on the steering wheel of the car. She wants to laugh at his dramatics. You'd think he wouldn't be so whiny since he's in charge of the areas strong Mafia, but she knows the truth.

"I Just - they had one job!" He moans and throws in a fake cry for good measure.

Oscar keeps throwing her looks from where he's spread out on the backseat. He and Lando also make it a point to keep her in the passenger seat and switch who drives. "It's an easy fix. Ten minutes tops, in and out, then back to our original plans." The Aussie shrugs.

"You'll make the switch?"

"Obviously, and if they shoot first, I'll shoot better."

~~~~~

The club rages around her. Not her preferred method of doing business. Dealing with people isn't her strong suit unless it's with a bullet to the head from the top of a building. Knives are fun to when things get messy.

The crowd is safer than the car if this does go south. Not that she's expecting it to, but better safe than sorry.

Oscar is already gone. He drops the money and gets the hostages while Lando goes to meet them on neutral ground. Simple as that.

Her job is to look pretty and watch the door that Lando had disappeared through. Mocktail in hand to make it look like she's part of the normal crowd.

Technically speaking, they'd only been together for the last year. Her and Oscar much longer than that. Though she has a sneaky suspicion Lando kept assigning both of them to the same jobs for a reason. If any jobs came up that required Lando to go out and needed people with him, they were the first he contacted.

If she had to guess, she'd say he orchestrated this relationship. She wouldn't have it any other way. It's not like any of them know how to do anything normally.

She tries not to grimace as a man saunters up to her. His movements unflattering and he smells like cigarettes. Her nose scrunches up in an effort to fight back her gag.

"You here all alone?" Even his voice is grating to her ears! Can this get even worse?

"My boyfriend is busy killing the guy that flirted with me earlier."

"Yeah right, anyone with that kind of attitude must be hard to flirt with." He scoffs. How mad would her partners be if she stabbed this man? No - she can't - they are trying to finish a deal. She'd blow the whole thing if she did that.

Actually - this guy looks familiar... She takes another drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.

"You alright? you look a little flushed."

"Yeah I'm-" Shit, she knows this feeling. More than that, she knows this man.

He's a hitman for the other gang. The one who has Lando's men. The one he's meeting with right now.

Her heart lurches. The fog in her head and heat are too much. Her body is going to give out on her.

She ends up stabbing him. The knife strapped to her thigh finds a home in Mr. Hitman's chest. He cries out in pain but doesn't pull it out. He smiles at her instead.

She tries to bolt, but three other sets of hands pin her. They drag her outside. The ground scraping against her skin in an uncomfortable way.

She sees the hitman fall to the ground; hears the thud as the pull her out the back where he was trying to follow.

Damn, she kind of liked that knife too. She'll have to go back for it later.

They already have Lando outside. Her blurry vision is enough to see him covered in blood, licking his lips. "You trying to take my girl?"

"Shut it, Norris. This is payback for what you did."

They start attempting to remove her clothes. Like she was going to go down without a fight. Her nails dig into the skin of whoever is close by. She pulls as hard as possible, skin from another getting stuck in her nails as she does.

Her body doesn't have the energy for more than that. She misses her knife. This would be easier if she still had it. The stabbing motion isn't difficult, and gravity would help.

"Get your filthy, fucking hands off of her!"

There is another round of fists clashing. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed four of my guys."

"You killed mine first! They made the deal exactly as intended and you still put a bullet through their skulls!"

This was all a setup then. They were planning on them showing up. Though, there is no way they know about Oscar. If they never intended on sending someone to make the switch, then they wouldn't have anyone on the roof.

Hands are everywhere, wrestling with her clothes. They don't get far, their intentions now clear. The shot echoes off the buildings. To close to be from the roof.

The man directly in front of her crumples to the ground. The spray of the blood from the shot sticks to her skin.

"I believe Lando said not to touch her." Oscar stands there holding the smoking gun.

She watches the fight break out around her. It's messy and loud, but her boys come out on top. As per usual with these things. She would've gladly joined in if these stupid drugs would let up.

The boss had scrambled away with his tail between his legs. Serves him right after this stunt. "Did he really not like you that much?" Oscar throws a raised eyebrow at Lando.

"Jealousy, I think." They work in tandem to heave her body upright and support her back to the car. "What happened on the roof?"

"I was waiting for any kind of signal but got nothing. Nobody showed up. So, I came back down and was greeted by six guns pointed at my head."

"They shot first, I presume?"

"But I shot better."

She doesn't need to see the smirk to know it's there.

~~~~~

The hot water of the bath feels exceptional against her skin. They'd scrubbed at blood for far too long. The raw skin finally being soothed is relaxing.

The drugs still haven't worn off. Her motor function is lacking, and her words are slurring together, but it's better than it was.

Lando and Oscar are keeping her upright. Her body resting against theirs. Fingers caress her skin. This is safety.

"Can't believe we've had to cancel our date." Lando plops three rubber ducks inside the bath. Oscar's ducks, mind you.

"Frankly, I think we could consider that a date. We went out, got covered in blood, now we're having a relaxing bath."

"You just don't like going out."

She's going to fall asleep here. Relaxed and at peace with her boys. The possibility of drowning unlikely. "I love you both."

"You're drugged and still got blood on you."

"Sexy."

"I killed someone for you."

"Romantic."

[merakiui]

this is going to be so ooc, but that one anime trope of a character whose fringe covers their eyes and when they push it back they're suddenly very attractive....... that but with loser virgin jade. <3 you think he's this weirdo in your class who is so quiet and shy, who gets this very creepy smile whenever anyone mentions mushrooms or the mountains. and then of course there's the trope of the nosebleed. you fall and land in a compromising position during pe and you can be sure there's a trail of blood running from his nostrils. or, even better, jade trips and lands right on top of you. T_T staining your pe clothes with his blood. waaaaa he's a loser!!!!! (obligatory beach episode where everyone's playing volleyball and he falls right into your chest......)

but then you happen to catch him in the woods one day and he's brushed his hair back and suddenly he's hot?????? has he always looked like this? his eyes are so striking. is this really the same guy?

(this is basically just idia, but sometimes you need the normally cool and collected jade to be the touch-starved virgin instead. <3)

[chuuyasheaven]

HAPPY 1k FOLLOWERS !!

Rules!!

ALSO THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

1st: This is a different Event! 

All of the fics will be based off songs from my playlist! 

(MUSIC IS THERAPEUTIC!)

I will interpret the meaning and kinky them up and stuff!

You’ll be able to choose which character would fit the best with it! Most likely, it won’t be easy to choose so I’ll be making two versions with different characters each.

2nd: Here’s my no-no list!

M*ri and any minors 

S3xual assault / R@pe

Any weird kinks (p1ss, sc@t, vom1t, hardcore stuff, etc.)

3rd: This is a nsfw Event only, but maybe, I’ll open up a sfw one after!

4th: Here’s my character list!

Chuuya Nakahara

Dazai Osamu

PM! Dazai Osamu (18 ofc)

Kunikida Doppo

Atsushi Nakajima

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

Fyodor Dostoevsky 

Nikolai Gogol

Ranpo Edogawa

Edgar Allen Poe

Tetchou Suehiro

Jouno Saigiku

Fukuzawa Yukichi

(THREE NEW CHARACTERS!)

5th: Requesting should go like this;

"Hi! I personally think that day four would really fit with Dazai! Could I request him with a afab!Reader please?" 

And to make it better, I will genderbend SOME characters! But only for fem!/afab!Reader tho!

Also mention what gender the reader should be: fem!/afab!/gn!/amab!Reader (trying amab! too!)

6th: Please be patient. 

Lately things have been fucking with me, so I may be a little slower or even take breaks! Writersblock can appear any time.

7th: Au's will and can be included, example; College!Au, Modern!Au, etc.

1st day: 

"I just wanna ride, get high in the moonlight.."

— You and your partner went out on a date, sitting in their car, you guys got heated while enjoying the moonlight..

Tags: making out, car sex,modern!au, soft sex, praise kink, pet names, etc.

2nd day:

"He had a cigarette with his number on it, (and) gave it over to me.."

— You boss called you to their office, wanting to 'talk' with you. But no need to worry, they just want to reward you for being good!

Tags: office!/normal!au, Office sex, teasing?, praise kink, pet names, etc.

3rd day:

"I hope, you’re ready, for what I’m about to do.."

—  You/Your Partner notice your/they’re kinda feeling low today, so you/they decide to cheer them/you up a little!

Tags: Oral sex, normal!au, praise kink/degradation kink, pet names, stress relief, etc.

4th day:

"He tore my clothes right off, he ate my heart and then he ate my brain.."

— A incubus, who was in a need of energy, needed you, really bad. So you let him fill you up!

Tags: Monster fucking?, incubus!au, praise/degrading kink, breeding kink, petnames, rough sex, cream pie, overstimulation, etc.

5th day:

"I’m gonna fuck you up, fuck you until you ask me for more.."

— You went out to a party with your partner, but someone tried flirting with you! So they got a little jelly!

Tags: Jealous sex, normal/modern!au, rough sex, praise/degrading kink, teasing, overstimulation, petnames, etc.

6th day:

"Buckle up, tonight I’m gonna give it to you stronger. Heads up, we can go a little longer.."

— During 'it', you got a little carried away. You needed to cum, so you got a little rougher, which made them get more submissive..

Tags: Switch!Character, normal!au, fingering, teasing, taking control, hickeys, overstimulation, petnames, etc.

7th day: 

"You’re dangerous, I’m loving it.." 

—  Your Partner/You are known to be the most dangerous person to Yokohama, but still, they/you can’t resist you/them..

Tags: Normal!au, marking, overstimulation?,slight breeding(?), petnames,  etc.

8th day: 

"As you recall, you know I love to show off.."

— Your Partner loves you very much, and they make sure you and everyone else knows, by showing you off. Bringing you gifts, kisses, cuddles and most importantly, making you feel good!

Tags: Modern!/Normal!au, passionate sex, overstimulation?, praising kink, foreplay, pet names, etc.

9th day: 

"'Cause I’m a jealous, jealous, jealous girl.." 

— Now the tables turned; someone was flirting with your partner?! You can’t help but feel jealous. You can decide, they could make you theirs or you’ll make them yours!

Tags: Jealous sex (2nd), modern!/normal!au, praising kink, pet names, overstimulation, teasing, etc.

10th day:

"Treat me like a slut, little bitch who loves to fuck.."

— You and your partner didn’t do it for a while, which had you sexually frustrated. So you were a brat, and how do you tame one? Easy, you fuck ‘em into oblivion!

Tags: Brat taming, rough sex, overstimulation/edging (u decide), (loving/degrading) pet names, etc.

Also, if you have any song-fic ideas feel free to request! 

Maybe smth like this;

"So, I had a idea for another song fic! The song "she’s so nice" by nice guy where the reader is like really nice but (character) fucks them really rough and calls them their slut? Also the reader's an afab?"

(Yes, mention what gender you want)

So can’t wait for your requests!! :3

Again, we’ve come so far! I can’t believe I have 1k People who like my works, so thank you all so much!!

[sp0o0kylights]

Like the Wolf Steve/Eddie Werewolf AU

I  have so much of this stupid thing written and it’s stuck on ch. 2 so imma just throw all the pieces up here now. 

This is a werewolf AU, not an A/B/O fic. My version of Alphas and Omegas runs like a mixmash of Patricia Brigg’s, Ilonia Andrew’s, and Carrie Vaughn’s. There is no second gender, werewolves establish a hierarchy within a pack by who is most dominant/submissive, with two Alpha’s to a pack and Omegas being an extremely rare gift.  Direct eye contact is considered a challenge and society has evolved to accept multiple types of Packs, including ones that include others beyond werewolves. All is explained in fic.

Warnings: Period typical homophobia, Eddie having trauma responses/being bullied/being hunted, mentions of Chrissy’s bones going snappy snappy,  and a general mention of the delightfully dumb social/moral/ethical issues that paranormal creatures raise.

Eddie Munson was not anyone's idea of a proper pack Alpha. 

Nor was he the kind of guy people wanted in a Pack, (capitol P intended, because “Titles are important, Edward.” and fuck did he hate when adults called him that. He went by Eddie for a reason.) or anywhere near them, period. 

Experience taught him that even in a traditional Shifter town like Hawkins, filled to the brim with werewolves and not much else, people would pick literally anyone over him when it came time to pair up.

Witches, the Fae, hell, even humans were better than him in the eyes of his peers. They wouldn’t pick him to be their PE tennis partner if he was the last guy left, let alone allow such deep and familiar actions like “treating him nicely” or “waving hello.” 

Letting him in their Pack? Any Pack, from a “true” one with the whole bond thing and fancy magic, down to the stupid social ones that did nothing more than let you know who your friends or coworkers were? 

Perish the thought!

“My mom says you’re a total freak.” One of the old-blooded, rich brats had said in third grade, and the nickname had stuck like glue ever since. 

It followed him throughout the years like it was branded on his forehead, accompanied by a steadily growing list of insults.

Weird. Faggot. Failure. Lone Wolf. 

Other.

Different.

He'd tried long ago to stop letting it hurt him. The way they made him aware that he fell so outside the realm of what others considered normal that they actively shunned him. 

It took until his sophomore year to get good at pretending it wasn’t painful, and at least by his third attempt at graduating, he had it down to where others believed it. 

Had even carved out a place for himself, starting with the Hellfire club. 

Gone about, rounding up all the other undesirables, the outcasted freaks who just didn’t fit into the stupid little social circles or dumb hierarchies of small towns the world over. 

Took in Grant the human, and Jeff the half vampire and Gareth, who was sick all the time even though he was a werewolf. 

Then the small group of incoming Freshman who’d been too loud, too proud, and far too nerdy to walk the halls without some kind of protection. 

It wasn’t much, but for someone like Eddie?

It had been everything. 

Too bad he was in Hawkins, Indiana, where people like him didn’t get to enjoy things.

Not without bad things happening.

Really bad things. 

Chrissy Cunningham pulling an exorcist level of demonic possession, dying on his ceiling, and crashing down like a broken porcelain doll to the floor of his trailer level of bad things. 

Suddenly Eddie wasn’t just the guy who couldn’t follow the same societal norms as every other bland teenage werewolf. 

He was dangerous. 

Satanic. 

His freak status elevated from “guy with long hair and weird clothes who wouldn’t stop acting like he was an Alpha” to “wolf willing to exchange his very soul in order to bring about the end of the world”-or something. 

Eddie hadn’t really listened much to Jason Carver’s rabid ranting, but he got the gist well enough. 

It didn’t even matter that for all the magic in the world, demons and satan were more of a human concept than anything that had proven, hard hitting magic sitting behind it. Satanic panic was just in, and Chrissy-

He couldn't think about Chrissy. 

Not that the  truth mattered anyway. 

No, the only thing that did was that one of their golden children had died in their town. A town they built, full of old werewolf families and a handful of powerful allies, that catered to them. 

They needed reparation for the insult that had been brought upon their power. 

Eddie was just the convenient lamb they had chosen to slaughter. 

So here he was, outcasted by the whole town. Watching as the people who hated him collectively lost their minds, regressing back to the days of one singular Pack hierarchy controlling everything. Two Alpha’s to rule them all, with Jason fucking Carver was taking on the role as one of them. 

Screw all the centuries of the world that had built past that. The way society was no longer “letting the inner beast win” but was instead getting along, moving forward. 

Eddie hadn’t needed whatever had actually happened with Chrissy to know how much of a lie it was, but then he hadn’t planed on pulling back the facade either. 

To bad for you, you idiot. 

Not that there was anything he could do. Not with his van, stupid idiotic, easy to spot van out of commission, blown up transmission leaving him stranded not even two miles from his house. He’d exhausted himself just to get to the boathouse, knowing damn well that it wouldn’t make one ounce of difference if he’d bolted or called the cops. 

They were gonna lay Chrissy’s death on his head, and now his chance to escape their wrath had all but dropped to zero. 

Best he could do was hide. Wait it out. 

Hope whatever the fuck had gotten Chrissy wasn’t going to come after him too. 

The reminder didn’t help, that he had no idea what the hell had even happened. His  mind ran in circles with his terror, trying to make sense of it, but all he could think about was how he could leave this damn boathouse. 

How he could get out.

Out of Hawkins, out of Indiana, just fucking out. 

It was that terror, the surge of adrenaline and the pure knowledge that if anyone caught him, his chances of survival dropped to damn near zero that he blamed for not recognizing Henderson’s voice. 

Hadn’t even picked up on the younger wolf’s scent, he’d been so freaked out. 

Wired with the intensity of a cornered animal, Eddie’s wolf staring out of his eyes and firmly in control the second he realized he wasn’t alone and whoever was here was calling his name, and all rational thoughts went right out the door. 

Add in Steve fucking Harrington, former King of Hawkins High and total asshole violently poking around, and well. 

There wasn’t a thought to be had at all. 

Not in Eddie’s head, anyway. 

He’d attacked when hiding no longer remained an option, proud of himself for pinning the larger wolf to the wall, snarling like the devil they thought he was. 

And Harrington-Harrington let him. 

Put his hands up as he crashed back against the wall. Kept his eyes off of Eddie’s, kept his throat exposed until Dustin could talk Eddie down. 

Explain some things.

Explain all the fucking things, which didn’t help his situation, at all, but did at least help his overall mental state. 

“We’ll work this out.” Henderson had said, voice confident, and Eddie, exhausted, starving, haunted by Chrissy’s bones snapping every time he closed his eyes-believed him.

Even if it was the stupidest thing to do. 

Because for all his bravado, all his jumping on tables and loud speeches, the Throne he DM’d from and the Hellfire Club he ran-Eddie Munson had a secret. 

He desperately, desperately, needed someone on his side.  

Anybody. 

Especially now, when he could feel himself seconds away from falling apart, life ripped out from under him a second time. 

Pity this time round he didn’t have yet another Uncle to run to. 

(It took Eddie a long time, in that same boathouse, to realize that Harrington had never retaliated against him for Eddie’s attack. For pinning him to the wall in front of his Packmate’s and making him look weak with a broken glass bottle, of all things.  

 Had in fact, backed down. 

Which was a hell of a thing, when Eddie had discovered that the damn freshman hadn’t been fibbing for fun.

They really did have a little established Pack, bonds and all, and Steve Harrington really was the Alpha in control of it. 

A born werewolf from one of Hawkins oldest families, with all their rules, fancy parties and refusal to be anything other than the best and he’d let Eddie, trailer park trash and son of two bitten, made, werewolves, pin him down like a puppy. 

If Eddie hadn’t been wrestling with the existence of a hell dimension, hand made superpowers, and the reality of a world where humans were experimenting on species of various kinds, the long held treaty laws be damned while they raced the Russians to do fuck knew what, he might have caught on that Steve was just as different as he was, a whole lot sooner. 

As it was, he just remained exhausted, hungry, and very, very grateful for the stupid freshmen.) 

                                                         xXx

Shit hadn’t really gone sideways in the boathouse until the third time Henderson's little crew had dropped off food. 

Dustin took in the look on Eddie’s face when Steve had unloaded the honeycomb cereal box, like the man had just seen water in a desert, and outright cackled. 

Eddie reached out automatically, hooking his arm around the freshman’s neck and pulling him taught to his side. Dustin shrieked as he was put into a nuggie, Eddie spinning them as the younger wolf pushed ineffectively at his arms. 

“Say uncle!” Eddie taunted with a grin.  

“Ow, ow, Eddie!” Dustin whined, before finally going limp and shouting; “Fine! Uncle!” 

Eddie dropped him with one last hair ruffle, grinning widely at him. 

Dustin grinned back, even as he pretended to fuss at his hair and clothes. “God, it’s not my fault you just realize Steve adopted you.” He said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why you gotta take it out on me?” 

Eddie went to automatically deny that he was taking anything out on Dustin. He was just the youngest wolf in the Hellfire Club which meant by all the rules in the universe, he was the automatic target for all teasing. 

The the kids words sunk in. 

Sunk in the same way fucking teeth went into a steak, all sharp and deep and pointed. 

Eddie froze so fast he almost nailed his face on one of the overhanging oars. 

“What?” He said, positive he misheard. 

“Those are your favorites right?” Dustin said, pointing at the offending cereal box on the ground. “He’s always been like, weirdly good at knowing what his packmates eat. I’d say it’s an Alpha thing but it’s totally not.” 

“What.” Eddie said again, his voice coming out as more of a surprised croak. 

“Max insists he pays super close attention but come on, it’s Steve. I once watched him trip trying to do the dance from the Breakfast Club. It’s absolutely just like, his weird little superpower.” Dustin hummed for a moment, face scrunched up in thought. “Like, snack-sense. Stevie Snack Sense!” 

Eddie stared, the words “Steve adopted you” and “weirdly good at knowing what his packmates eat” ping-ponging around his head. 

Henderson’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Get it? Like Scooby snacks?”  

Then he laughed his weird little cackle again, ignoring the way Eddie had crashed like one of the shitty computers their school was so proud of owning. 

‘Danger alert, the Freak is overheating. Danger alert, the Freak is-’ 

“Henderson are you coming or what!?” Steve yelled, causing Eddie to jump and Dustin to spin around, shouting something rude back.

“Keep your walkie on, okay?” Dustin said, turning back with a worried look that would have been touching if Eddie had been paying any attention at all, before scampering off to have an argument with his Pack Alpha. 

The same one who apparently, allowed such things from whiny, teenage puppies, and also, was trying to adopt Eddie. 

Into his Pack. 

Eddie just stared after them, feeling vaguely like the world no longer made sense.

Probably because it didn’t.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Coming Home (m) | PJM | Part one

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Summary: When your best friend, Park Jimin, who you’ve had a crush on since forever, suggests you stay at his house to heal and find yourself again after a series of traumatizing events had haunted you for years, you don’t hesitate to accept. Within those walls, a safe haven is woven, where wounds can heal and memories find release. As he nurtures your shattered spirit, an unexpected intimacy unfurls, leaving the fragile barrier between friendship and deeper emotions in question - can you keep your feelings hidden?

Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”)

Other characters: Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, OC (female, she is the therapist) and another OC (male, he is the perp). Also readers parents and mention of Jimin's.

AUs: Best friends to lovers!au, detective!jimin Genres/themes: thriller/dark, yandere vibes, slice of life, healing after trauma, angst, smut and fluff.

Rating: mature/explicit/R18

Word count: 20K

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings: Mention of past abuse and sexual assault (r*pe), trauma, stalking, trust issues, insecurities, thriller vibes, angst, fluff, slice of life, healing after trauma (including therapy sessions), blood (only in the beginning), BIG feelings, protective Jimin, previous character death (a parent), Jimin being soft and loving, self defense.

Disclaimer about warnings: I know nothing about sexual or physical abuse (I only know psychological because I experienced that, not in a sexual context though). This story is fiction, I do not mean to say that this is how one would go through their emotions or handle this situation. This is a delicate and fragile subject, so proceed with caution. I also know nothing about police work or the work in emergency/hospitals.

Also, I don’t own BTS or know how they would act in a similar situation. This story is purely fiction, a fragment of my imagination. They just inspire me so much 💜

Cross posted to AO3!

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings

Rain pelts down relentlessly, each drop a sharp reminder of the danger chasing you. 

The downpour blurs the line between raindrops and tears as they cascade down your face. 

Clothes cling to your skin, suffocating, strangling. 

Keep moving, keep running, the mantra plays on a loop in your mind. 

With each pounding heartbeat, the echo of footsteps grows louder. The adrenaline coursing through your veins drowns out the sound of the rain, but the fear in your heart is deafening. 

Each breath is a desperate gasp, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and the promise of danger lurking in the shadows. 

Every second counts, and the darkness seems to conspire against your escape, threatening to swallow you whole. Amidst the chaos, doubt gnaws at your resolve. 

Why did things have to turn out this way? 

Could you have done something differently?

But you push those thoughts away; now is not the time for self-doubt. 

The world around you blurs, but your heart beats like a war drum, urging you to escape the nightmare chasing your every step. Clenching your fits, you find a sliver of strength and determination within yourself, vowing to fight until the very end. 

Your tears mix with the rain, blurring your vision again, but you can’t afford to stop. The pain in your chest isn’t just from exhaustion; it’s the weight of a thousand regrets and shattered dreams. 

Memories flash before your eyes like lightning strikes, and you wonder if you’ll ever get a normal life again. But amidst the turmoil, one thought anchors you: survival.

The empty streets seem to stretch endlessly, dim streetlights casting flickering shadows that dance around you. An eerie feeling tightens in your chest - what if he had followed you? 

Exhaustion gnaws at your limbs as you continue to run, legs turning to jelly beneath you. In the distance, a familiar fence and yard comes into view, you feel a twinge of hope surrounding your heart. 

You quicken your pace, stumbling forward, almost there. 

The front door is within reach, and relief wash over you. 

You slam your body against the door, desperate for refuge. Pain sears through your shoulder, but you hardly notice. 

Knocking feverishly, you hope someone, anyone, will answer in this dark hour. But the silence that follows only heightens the fear bubbling within you. 

The wind whispers, carrying with it haunting whispers that seem to echo your own terror.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

His eyes snap open, frustration already creeping into his mind. What in the world is going on outside this time? 

Those blasted drunk teenagers just never seem to learn, do they? Groaning, he begrudgingly leaves the comfort of his bed, fatigue tugging at every step he takes down the hall to the front door. 

Should he open it and scold them? 

Or maybe he should just yell from inside? 

“Go home and sleep it off!” he yells, clenching his jaw with irritation. 

Just as he turns to retreat to his bed, the knocking grows louder and more insistent. He can’t ignore it any longer, and what’s worse, he hears someone crying amidst the chaos. Mortified by the possibility that someone might be hurt, he gives in and opens the door. 

What greets him, he had not expected at all.

You. 

As the door swings open, your heart leaps with relief, and tears of joy blur your vision. 

There he is, Jimin, your best friend of countless years, his dark brown eyes locking into yours. 

Without a second thought, you rush inside, seeking refuge in the familiar space of his home. 

Your back collides with the nearest wall, and you bury your face in your hands, overcome with emotions you’ve been holding back for too long. Jimin is taken aback by your sudden appearance, his mind racing to process what just happened, as he runs a hand through his dark locks. 

It takes a moment for him to register that it’s in fact you, his dearest friend, standing before him after a long period of time. He can’t help but look you up and down, trying to find words that seem to escape him in this moment of surprise and bewilderment.

His eyes widen, mouth agape, as he struggles to comprehend the sight before him. 

“Close and lock the door, dammit!” your voice trembles, the fear palpable in every syllable. Shivering uncontrollably, you stand on the threshold of his home, vulnerable and on edge. 

Jimin snaps out of his stupor and hurriedly complies, shutting the door in a swift motion. He watches you, torn between terror and warmth reflected in his eyes. Seeing you in such distress, his heart aches, but he knows not how to ease your pain. 

You stand here, trembling and panting, a state he’s never witnessed before. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a comforting embrace, but your body remains unresponsive, numb to the touch.

“What in the world happened to you?!” Jimin’s eyes widen in shock as he tightly grips your arms, searching for answers in your tear-filled eyes. You can’t meet his gaze and instead fidget with your fingers, the burden of your secret weighing heavy on your heart. 

With a sudden realization, Jimin’s eyes dart downward, and he gasps as he sees your bare and bloodied feet.

“OMG! You are bleeding! Did you run here barefoot? What happened?” he urgently asks, his mind racing with concern. 

He rushes into the kitchen, his voice a mix of worry and instructions to stay put. You can’t find the words to explain, so you merely nod as he returns with bandages and a glass of water.

The sound of your sobbing fills the room as Jimin carefully tends to your injured feet, his hands gentle and comforting. He’s always been there for you, a pillar of support, and in this moment, you’re reminded of why he’s your best friend. 

The glass of water he hands you feels like salvation, a small act of kindness that speaks volumes about the bond you share.

As the silence envelopes the room, you take a deep breath, unsure of how to articulate the series of events that led you here. 

Jimin sits besides you, his presence a source of solace, and you feel a flicker of courage to share your pain. You know that you can trust him, that he’ll listen without judgment, and that thought alone is enough to make you feel a little less alone.

“We need to get you to a doctor,” Jimin begins to say, but you immediately shake your head, chanting ‘no’ repeatedly, your heart pounding in your chest. An uneasiness settles in Jimin’s expression, his concern growing with every passing second.

“You have been missing for five fucking years!” Jimin’s voice raises, a mix of frustration and desperation evident in his tone. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and implores you to slow down and relax. 

The gravity of his words sinks in, and your whole world comes to a halt. 

Five years? It couldn’t have been more than a few months, you think in disbelief. 

You lock eyes with him, and the floodgates of your emotions burst open. What started as sobs turns into pained screams and gut-wrenching cries. Your whole body vibrates with anguish, and in that moment, you find comfort in Jimin’s embrace. 

Being in his arms feels like coming home, and you instantly feel safe, your body beginning to relax under his touch.

“I have to call the police, Y/N, and you know that,” Jimin says with a heavy heart. Deep down, you know he’s right, but the thought of facing what happened to you is terrifying. 

You nod, trying to hold back the tears that fall from your red, swollen eyes, the realization of your missing years cruising you from all sides.

Jimin leads you into the kitchen, gesturing for you to take a seat on a worn stool beside the counter. 

As you sit down, your eyes wander around the room, landing on familiar photos adorning the walls. Some feature Jimin, his family, and others of you both together, capturing moments of laughter and joy. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you remember the warmth of those times. 

Jimin’s presence beside you is both comforting and heartbreaking. The burden of the past five years hangs heavily in the air, unspoken but palpable. 

Despite the reunion, a sense of distance lingers between you, as if the chasm of time has carved an unbridgeable gap.

“Y/N, I have to make the call now,” he says softly, his voice laced with concern. 

“I promise I’ll find you some new clothes and finish taking care of your feet afterward” his words are reassuring, but you can’t help the unease gnawing at your heart. 

The prospect of facing the consequences of your disappearance looms before you, and you can’t help but wonder how much has changed in your absence. You glance at the photos once more, your smile now tinged with melancholy. The memories they hold are precious, reminders of the bond you share with Jimin, but they also serve as a reminder of the time you can never get back. 

As Jimin steps away to make the call, you find solace in the familiarity of the kitchen, a place that once felt like a second home. The creaking of the floorboards and the faint scent of a home cooked meal bring a sense of nostalgia, but the gravity of the present is too heavy to ignore. 

Uncertainty lingers like a shadow, and you wonder how your life will unfold from this point on.

Still sobbing, you watch as Jimin rushes around the house, his voice firm and commanding as he makes the urgent phone call. 

“It’s Y/N! You have to come now. Yes! Y/N! Get your asses down here. Get all of them!” 

The gravity of the situation settles heavily in the room, leaving you both anxious. Jimin returns with a first aid kit, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. He kneels before you, gently inspecting your injured feet again. The pain is excruciating, and you instinctively pull away, hissing at the contact. 

“It hurts” you cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks.

His worried gaze meets yours, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. 

“I bet it does… Where have you been?… I have so many questions,” he says, gesturing with his hands. As you place your feet back in his hands, he notices the depth of the cuts, and his concern deepens. 

He realizes that you must have endured a long and harrowing journey to get such severe injuries. You find it hard to answer his questions; there’s so much to say, yet the words fail to form, you feel a mix of guilt, fear, and relief at being found, but the overwhelming weight of the past five years makes it difficult to find the right words. 

So you remain silent, unable to provide the answers he seeks. Jimin accepts your silence for now, recognizing that the wounds go far beyond the physical cuts.

He gently tends to your injuries with gauze and the bandages from earlier, his touch a mixture of tenderness and sorrow. 

The unspoken questions hang in the air, leaving both of you grappling with the uncertainty of the future. You both forget the prospect of a new change of the clothes he promised as time tickles by.

About ten minutes later, a sharp knocking at the door sends a shiver down your spine, and you freeze in place. Jimin offers reassurance, but the anxiety hangs heavy in the air as he walks to open the door.

In come a group of uniformed police officers, and trailing behind them, you spot medics from the ambulance. 

The realization that your disappearance is something serious only adds to the anxiety gnawing at your heart. 

One of the officers stands out from the rest, with mint hair that catches your attention. He exchanges greetings with Jimin, referring to him as ‘Detective Park’, and you deduce that they must work together. 

It dawns on you that Jimin has achieved his childhood dream of becoming a detective. It pulls at your heart strings, proudness filling your heart.

The man with mint hair approaches you, introducing himself as Detective Min Yoongi. His calm and composed demeanor sets you at ease momentarily. “Hey Y/N, is it alright if I ask you some questions?” he says, his voice smooth and unwavering. 

As the atmosphere fills with tension and unspoken questions, you brace yourself for what lies ahead. 

The presence of the police and the sudden arrival of the whole police squad hint at the gravity of the situation, leaving everybody in the room on edge. 

The minutes tick by, and the gravity of your disappearance and the uncertainty of the future loom large.

“Dammit Min! Let us take care of her first before you make her re-play what happened to her!” An unfamiliar voice shouts, the paramedic’s frustration evident in the sharp tone. 

You glance over and see a tall man with broad shoulders approaching, carrying a bag of medical supplies. Behind him, a younger guy with a smile as bright as the sun follows closely. 

The tension in the room heightens as Detective Yoongi steps aside to let the two medics pass. 

The tall man’s protective stance and the younger guy’s warm demeanor catch your attention. Their presence offers a glimmer of relief amidst the uncertainty that surrounds you. 

The paramedic’s concern is palpable, and you feel a wave of gratitude for someone looking out for you in this disorienting moment. 

Detective Yoongi, on the other hand, seems resolute in his approach, keen on getting to the bottom of what happened. 

The conflict between his determination and the medics’ insistence on prioritizing your well-being leaves you torn and uncertain of what to expect next. 

As the medics attend to you, their professionalism and care give you a sense of security. The man with the broad shoulders, voice’s boldness in defending you feels like a comforting aid, assuring you that you’re not alone in facing whatever ordeal lies ahead. 

With a mix of emotions swirling inside you, the room becomes a whirlwind of activity.

“Hi. I’m Seokjin, and this is my buddy, Hoseok. We’re going to take a look at your cuts on your feet and determine if you have to ride with us to the hospital, okay?” 

Seokjin’s voice is gentle and comforting as he introduces himself and Hoseok. They both exchange a side-eye with detective Min, unimpressed by his approach. 

You feel a glimmer of relief at the soothing tone of the medics, finding comfort in their presence. You allow the paramedics to tend to your feet, the pain and discomfort still fresh from your barefoot run. Hoseok unwraps the bandages Jimin had put on you, inspects your feet and notices the bruises. Instantly, you withdraw your legs, hiding them under your gown, as if trying to shield yourself from further scrutiny. 

The sudden attention draws everyone’s gaze, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.

“I, I…” you stammer, looking down, afraid to share the source of your bruises. 

Your voice trails off, and fear grips your heart. However, the medics’ caring demeanor slowly breaks through your defenses, reminding you that they are here to help, not harm. 

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Seokjin says, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

You flinch, instinctively trying to pull away from the touch, unable to fully accept comfort in this moment. 

Hoseok and Seokjin exchange a knowing glance, understanding the depth of your unease. 

Instead of pushing further, they give you space and time to process. Their empathy creates a safe space, allowing you to slowly open up and trust in their care. 

With their gentle presence and understanding, you start to feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you can get through this.

As the paramedics continue to tend to your injuries, you notice that all the police officers have circled around Jimin, engaging in small talk. 

The room feels charged with tension, and you can tell that Jimin is both grateful for their support and eager to ensure that you receive the care you need. Jimin’s gaze shifts back to you, concern evident in his eyes as he observes the way you deflect any attempts at physical touch. 

His mind races, trying to understand the reasons behind your reaction. He’s torn between joining the police officers and focusing on your well-being. Hoseok’s interruption brings him back to the present. 

“We should take her to the hospital to get checked,” he suggests, pulling Jimin’s attention away from the crowd. “It’s hard to determine the extent of her injuries here.” 

Jimin’s heart sinks at the realization that your injuries might be more severe than he initially thought. He feels a sense of urgency to ensure that you receive proper medical attention, yet he knows that he can’t push you to do something you’re not comfortable with. 

“I’ll go with her,” Jimin says, the determination in his voice clear. 

He glances back at the police officers, who nod in understanding. They trust his judgment and know that your well-being is his top priority. 

As Hoseok and Seokjin prepare to take you to the hospital, Jimin steps beside you, offering a gentle smile. 

“You don’t have to worry. We’ll all take care of you” he reassures, his voice soft and comforting. He understands that you may be hesitant, but he’s determined to support you every step of the way. 

With Jimin’s unwavering support, you find a flicker of reassurance amidst the uncertainty. 

“Jin is just going to get the stretcher from the ambulance, and then we can go to the hospital,” Hoseok says reassuringly. You nod, the load of exhaustion settling heavily on your shoulders. 

Your body feels like it weighs a ton, and even the simplest tasks seem daunting. Seokjin arrives with the stretcher, and you manage to sit down with the help of Hoseok. 

“Please lie down, and we will secure you.” he says with an encouraging smile. The softness of his voice offers a glimmer of comfort amidst the chaos. 

At your side, Detective Min Yoongi appears, determined to take your statement. 

The idea of reliving the events feels overwhelming, and you shake your head, too tired to delve into the details.

“I think it will be alright for her to get checked out at the hospital first, no?” Seokjin suggests, his voice firm yet understanding. 

The conflict between the detective and the paramedics become apparent, each prioritizing their own objectives. Detective Yoongi grumbles his acceptance, a begrudging nod signaling his reluctant agreement. 

As the paramedics wheel you out of Jimin’s house and towards the waiting ambulance, you feel a mix of emotions - exhaustion, uncertainty, and relief. 

The events of the night have taken a toll, and the path ahead remains uncertain. But for now, you take solace in the reassurance of the paramedics and the support of Jimin and his colleagues.

On the way out, Jimin informs you that he’ll follow in his car since he couldn’t be with you in the ambulance. 

You’re secretly relieved that the paramedics insisted on you riding alone. 

In the ambulance, Hoseok gently tends to your feet again, his touch soft and comforting as he removes the gauze. You wince as he cleans the wounds properly, the pain a sharp reminder of the night’s events. 

“How come you have all these cuts on your feet?” Hoseok’s voice carries a mix of curiosity and concern, and you can sense his genuine desire to understand and help. He wraps your feet in fresh bandages, his soothing gaze never leaving you.

“I ran barefoot,” you offer a simple answer, not yet ready to delve into the details.

“But why were you not wearing any shoes?” Hoseok persists, his gentle tone an attempt to coax the truth from you. 

“I didn’t have time to grab them” you reply, turning your head away, already weary of the questions.

Hoseok’s caring eyes sweep over you, and he notices the black and yellow discolorations on your legs and arms. His concern deepens as he observes the evidence of further injuries. 

“I know you’re tired and don’t like me asking questions, but I need to ask some to help you, you know?” he explains, trying to establish a connection with you.

You flinch when he places his hand on your skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable. 

Memories of the past five years flood your mind, and you can’t help but pull away, mortified by the unwanted touch. The burden of your experiences is heavy, and sharing them feels like an insurmountable task. 

Yet, amidst your discomfort, you find a glimmer of hope in Hoseok’s genuine concern, knowing that he may be the one to help you find the strength to voice the events.

You take a deep breath, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. You know you must tell Hoseok, and later, Detective Yoongi too. Gathering all your courage and mental strength, you feel your body tense as you prepare to share the painful truth.

“I was abducted and abused,” you say in a faint, low voice, your eyes darting away, unsure about the reaction you'll receive. 

The weight of the words hangs heavily in the air, and you feel Hoseok’s presence, supportive and patient, as you struggle to find the right words.

You take another breath, steadying yourself before continuing, “And sexually assaulted” you whisper, almost as if speaking any louder would cause the memories to become too overpowering.

The silence that follows feels suffocating, but you know you can’t take back what you’ve shared. 

Your vulnerability lies bare before Hoseok, and you wonder how he’ll respond. In this moment of revelation, you realize that speaking about your past is just the beginning of a journey towards healing. 

You brace yourself for what comes next, hoping that the weight of your experiences will now be shared, lessening the burden you’ve carried for so long.

Hoseok looks at you, his eyes glistening with tears he’s trying to hold back, not wanting to cry in front of you. 

“Y/N, fuck, I’m so, so sorry that happened to you” he murmurs, his voice is filled with raw emotion. He attempts to give you a reassuring smile. But the pain in his eyes betrays the facade. 

The weight of your trauma hangs heavy in the air, making the atmosphere in the ambulance feel dense and suffocating. For the rest of the ride, Hoseok falls silent, the words caught in his throat. 

The ambulance finally stops, and the doors open, revealing the outside world again. 

As they wheel you out of the vehicle, Seokjin notices the tension between you and Hoseok. Concerned, he asks what happened, his gaze shifting between the two of you.

Hoseok hesitates, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. He’s torn between sharing the information with Jin and wanting to protect you from further pain. 

In the end, he decides to keep his head down, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air. Feeling drowsy, you manage to recount the horrifying events to Seokjin, who listens with sadness in his eyes. 

His reassurance that you’re safe now provides some comfort amidst the overwhelming emotions. “You should agree to get the sexual assault kit done. Maybe they can find the guy in the system, you never know.” he suggests, his concern evident in his voice.

As they wheel you inside the hospital, you find yourself surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses ready to help. Hoseok’s presence beside you provides a sense of security, and you notice how he smiles at a particular nurse with a boxy smile, displaying a reassuring camaraderie.

Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind “Jimin?” you ask, looking at Hoseok for reassurance.

“He will be right behind you in a moment. He’s probably parking his car” Hoseok assures you, waving as he and his partner step back outside.

As the nurses wheel you further into the hospital, you feel a mix of emotions - fear, exhaustion, and relief. 

The trauma you’ve experienced still weighs heavily on your mind, but the support and care from those around you offer a glimmer of hope. 

You take a deep breath, knowing that you’re in good hands, and that with the help of the hospital team, the police and your best friend, you’re one step closer to finding justice and healing.

Jimin keeps a short distance to the ambulance, his heart pounding in his chest as he refuses to lose track of it. 

With each passing second, the urgency in his movements grows. 

When the ambulance finally arrives at the hospital, he finds himself racing to find a parking space, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. 

The ambulance is fortunate to park in front of the emergency department doors, allowing medical personnel to respond swiftly. 

Jimin spots a free parking spot not too far away and practically dumps his car, almost forgetting to lock it in his haste. He dashes to the front doors, his feet carrying him as fast as they can.

As he approaches the emergency department, he spots the ambulance parked to the side, with Hoseok and Seokjin standing outside, restocking items. 

His heart sinks at the sight of the ambulance, knowing that you’re probably inside, dealing with the aftermath of what must be a traumatic event. 

Jimin’s emotions are a whirlwind - concern, worry, and determination. He knows he needs to be there for you, to offer support and comfort during this difficult time.

With a deep breath, he pushes forward, determined to be by your side. 

Jimin arrives, panting and out of breath, his heart pounding as he seeks answers. As he reunites with Hoseok and Seokjin, his gaze instinctively searches for you, hoping to see you safe and cared for. 

Your journey to healing has just begun, and Jimin is resolute in his commitment to stand by you every step of the way.

He greets Hoseok with a worried smile, but something is off. Hoseok’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, a telltale sign that something serious has happened.

“What happened?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice, upset that something has clearly affected his dear friend.

“It’s better that Y/N tells you…” Hoseok replies, turning away from Jimin, reluctant to share the details.

Jimin isn’t satisfied with that response. 

Their years of friendship have given him the ability to sense when something is wrong with Hoseok. He reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, silently urging him to open up. 

Seokjin intervenes, understanding the need to share the truth. He places his hands on the two friends, offering his support. With a sigh, he encourages Hoseok to speak.

“She was assaulted…” 

Hoseok finally reveals, his voice carrying the weight of your trauma. Jimin freezes, his heart sinking at the revelation. He struggles to process the information, grappling with a mix of shock, anger, and a fierce desire to protect you.

“How?” 

Jimin asks in a stern voice, determined to understand the details despite his internal turmoil. He knows he needs to be strong for you, but the truth is overwhelming. He braces himself for the answers, ready to face whatever comes next.

“... Sexually” 

Hoseok’s usual sunshine and brightness vanished, leaving the outdoors heavy with the weight of the revelation. Jimin felt the anger take root in his body, making his blood boil. He was furious that such a thing could happen to you, and he regretted not being there to prevent it. 

The surge of emotions overwhelmed him; he couldn’t bear the thought of you going through such pain.

“Thanks” he muttered, his voice tinged with urgency, and turned towards the doors in a hurry. He had to see you, make sure you were alright given the circumstances, and let you know he would be there for you no matter what.

But before he could leave, Hoseok’s voice stopped him in his tracks. 

Turning back, he faced his friend, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“There’s one more thing you should know…” Hoseok began, his expression filled with genuine sadness. Jimin braced himself for more devastating details, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

“She was also abused. Liked multiple times… probably over a long period of time.” Hoseok said with a frown, the burden of the truth evident in his words.

“What!?” 

Jimin almost shouted, his emotions spiraling out of control. The reality of what you endured felt too much to bear. He needed to see you, to hold you close and reassure you that you were safe now. 

Determination and love swelled within him, driving him forward. He had to be there for you, to let you know that he loved you and that he would protect you with everything he had.

As you settle into your hospital room, you feel grateful for the solitude, thankful to be the only patient in it at the moment. 

The nurse with the boxy smile, Taehyung, you learned, tends to you with professionalism and attentiveness, his reassuring smiles putting you at ease. His presence feels like a calming force amidst the turmoil of recent events.

 As he ensures your comfort, he gently inquires about what happened to you, just like the paramedics did earlier. Taking a deep breath, you recount the harrowing experience, trusting Taehyung to listen without judgment. His genuine concern is evident as he nods in understanding, offering you unwavering support. 

Remembering Seokjin’s suggestion about the assault kit, you express your willingness to go through with it. Taehyung agrees that it’s a good idea and asks if you’d feel more comfortable with a female coworker conducting the examination. 

You contemplate the option for a moment, acknowledging your vulnerability in this situation. Finally, you decide to have a female nurse perform the exam but request Taehyung to be present by your side for comfort.

“I’d appreciate having you there,” you say, appreciating the calm and caring energy he exudes. Taehyung nods warmly, assuring you that he’ll be right there to support you through the process.

The hospital room takes on a sense of tranquility as you put your trust in Taehyung, knowing that you’re in capable hands.

As Taehyung explains the process of the examination, you feel anxiety wash over you. The police involvement is a daunting prospect, but you're grateful that Jimin is part of it. 

When the door opens, and Jimin steps in, a sense of comfort washes over you, his familiar presence easing your tension.

“—You Taehyung?” Jimin asks, panting, concern evident in his expression as he approaches your bed. Taehyung stands in front of Jimin, almost like a shield, protective of you.

“Yes” Taehyung responds firmly. 

“Who are you?” he asks, sizing Jimin up with a discerning look.

“I’m a friend of Y/N. Detective Park Jimin” he replies, his eyes searching your face and body for any signs of discomfort.

“Oh.” Taehyung mutters, stepping aise to give Jimin space by your side. You try to sound tough, assuring Jimin that you’re fine, but he sees through the facade.

“You’re in no shape or form fine, and it’s okay to acknowledge that,” Jimin says, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside you, his supporting gesture speaking volumes.

When you ask if Jimin can be present during the examination, Taehyung hesitates for a moment before agreeing, on the condition that he sees Jimin’s identification. You feel relieved when Jimin shows his badge, securing his place by your side.

“I don’t have to be here if you’re uncomfortable with it, Y/N” Jimin says gently, squeezing your hand reassuringly and you feel your cheeks blush.

“I would prefer you. I don’t want somebody from the police that I don’t know” you reply, squeezing his hand back, the trust and affection between you two evident.

“Okay then. I’ll just get a female nurse to come and do the vaginal exam now” Taehyung says, leaving the room with a mix of sadness and determination in his eyes.

The weight of the situation settles in, but with Jimin by your side, you feel stronger and more ready to face what comes next.

The vaginal examination has been anything but pleasant, but you’re grateful that Jimin stayed by your side the whole time, providing a sense of security amidst the discomfort. 

After the female nurse and Taehyung leave the room, you find yourself alone with Jimin again. 

His presence is both comforting and unsettling, and you can sense the burden of unspoken questions between you. Jimin’s eyebrows keep furrowing as he paces the room, a clear sign of the many inquiries swirling in his mind. 

You can tell he wants to ask you so many things, but he’s also aware of the sensitivity of the situation. 

He starts to speak a few times but falls silent just as quickly, understanding that this may not be the right moment. Time seems to stretch on, with each passing moment carrying the weight of unspoken words. 

The room is filled with an atmosphere of both comfort and tension, the air charged with emotions that neither of you knows quite how to express.

You feel the urge to break the silence, to tell Jimin everything that has happened, but the words catch in your throat. 

It’s hard to put into words the trauma you’ve experienced, the pain you’ve endured. It was easier to tell the paramedics and Taehyung, because they aren’t as close to you. 

There’s a fear that sharing the details might make it all too real, and might make Jimin think less of you. 

Yet, in the midst of the silence, you find a sense of solace in Jimin’s presence. There’s an unspoken understanding between you, a deep connection that doesn’t require words. You know he’s there for you, ready to listen and support you whenever you’re ready to share.

As Jimin continues to pace, you catch his eye and manage a small, appreciative smile. It’s a signal that you’re not quite ready to talk yet, but you’re thankful for his presence. The gesture seems to ease some of the tension in the room, and Jimin’s features soften.

For now, you both find comfort in the silence, knowing that when the time is right, you’ll have each other to lean on. In this moment of vulnerability and uncertainty, the unspoken words between you carry more weight than any spoken ones ever could.

The silence in the room is broken by the entrance of Taehyung, a warm smile on his face. Despite the gentle expression the news he brings sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Hey Y/N,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that we have called your parents, and they are on their way”.

You freeze at the mention of your parents.

Jimin looks at you, sensing your sudden unease. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, seems momentarily puzzled by the tension in the room before it dawns on him. 

“Shit. You didn't want them to know…” he trails off, his eyes dropping to the floor with a sense of defeat.

In a small and timid voice, you ask, “What did you tell them?”.

Taehyungs’s reply is gentle but regretful, “Only that you are in the hospital, nothing else”. He offers an apology, acknowledging that calling the emergency contact is standard procedure. You can see the sincerity in his eyes as he feels remorse for causing you further distress.

The conflicting emotions inside you are overwhelming. 

Part of you wants your parents’ support and comfort during this difficult time, but another part dreads their reaction, fearing their judgment and disappointment. 

You glance at Jimin, hoping to find relief in his presence. Jimin, sensing your distress, reaches out to hold your hand, offering silent support. Taehyung seems to understand the complexity of the situation and takes a step back, giving you both some space.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you finally manage to say, appreciating his concern and understanding, “I just… I’m not sure how they will react.” 

Taehyung nods, his expression sympathetic, “I understand. I’m sorry for any added stress this may have caused you. If you want, I can talk to them on your behalf, explain the situation.” 

You consider his offer, grateful for his willingness to help. “Let me think about it” you reply, feeling torn but also relieved that Taehyung is willing to be a buffer between you and your parents.

As Taehyung leaves the room, you turn to Jimin, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I’m scared, Jimin. I don’t know how they’ll react, and I don’t want to burden them with all of this.” 

Jimin’s eyes soften with understanding. 

“We’ll face it together, Y/N,” he assures you. 

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you, and we’ll navigate through this together”. In that moment, you realize the true depth of Jimin’s care and support.

The room falls into silence, and you find solace under the duvet, hiding your body away from the world. Jimin takes a seat beside your bed, the concern evident in his eyes.

“I know you don’t want to tell your parents everything that happened,” he begins gently, searching for a way to support you without pushing too much. 

“But maybe you could just… not tell them all of it” he offers, his voice soft with compassion. 

You’re taken aback by his suggestion. 

How could he know what you’re going through? 

You hadn’t even had the guts to confide in him yet. “Did the paramedics tell you what happened to me?” you ask timidly, avoiding his gaze as you fidget with the duvet and your fingers.

Jimin’s heart breaks at the vulnerability in your voice. 

He nods, his eyes filled with sorrow. 

“I’ve been friends with Hoseok for some time, so I asked him to tell me,” he admits, squeezing your hand gently. 

“He didn’t want to. I’m sorry, I know I should have asked you instead.” 

You finally meet his gaze, seeing the pain and empathy in his eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you reply softly. “I understand why you wanted to know, and I appreciate your concern.” 

Talking about what happened is difficult for you, and you appreciate Jimin’s effort to understand without pushing you to share more than you’re comfortable with for now. 

“I don’t know if I can tell my parents everything,” you admit, the burden of the trauma pressing down on your shoulders. Jimin doesn’t push; he simply listens and holds your hand, a silent source of comfort. 

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he assures you. 

“Take your time. Whatever you choose to share, I’ll support you, and so will your parents” you nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you knowing that Jimin will be there for you, no matter what. 

“Thank you” you whisper, feeling grateful for his unwavering support and understanding.

The room fills with a quiet understanding, the unspoken bond between you and Jimin providing comfort and reassurance. As you face the difficult road ahead, you find strength in knowing you’re not alone, and that you have someone who cares deeply for you by your side.

“So you’re suggesting that I only tell them that I was abducted and nothing more?” you ponder out loud, turning to Jimin for guidance. 

He nods his head in understanding, his expression gentle and reassuring. The burden of the decision feels heavy on your shoulders, torn between protecting your parents and seeking solace in their support.

A sudden knock at the door statles you, causing your head to whip around in panic. 

The dreadful feeling in your body intensities, fearing that it might be your parents. Thankfully, it's Detective Yoongi who enters, peeking his head in. You remember him from earlier, and his presence makes your heart race.

“Hello, Y/N, how are you doing?” he greets you, a mix of professionalism and concern in his voice. Jimin acknowledges him with a nod as the detective approaches the other side of your bed.

“Ehm, okay, all things considered, I think” you reply, trying to steady your breath because you know exactly why he is here and where this conversation is heading.

Detective Yoongi’s gaze softens, and you can sense his desire to help and understand.

“I’ve spoken with Hoseok, and I know it’s been a difficult time for you. We’re here to support you, Y/N. Can you tell us anything about the person who abducted you? Any details you remember?”

Yoongi looks at you and then glances at Jimin, seeking his approval. Jimin meets your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort, when finding none, he nods and gives your hand a soft squeeze, providing reassurance.

Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens, his protective instincts kicking in. 

“She’s been through a lot, Hyung.” 

Detective Yoongi nods in understanding, recognizing the delicate situation. “Of course. Take all the time you need, Y/N” he says, conveying his support and patience.

You take a deep breath and begin recounting the night five years ago, the events that led to your abduction, and the aftermath. 

As you mention Jimin’s presence there that night, you see his reaction, the anguish and pain etched across his face. You feel a pang of sadness witnessing his emotional turmoil in response to your words. 

The Detective listens attentively, his professional demeanor mixed with compassion, creating a safe space for you to share your story. 

With every word you speak, the burden of the past bears down on you, and the memories threaten to consume you. Jimin’s unwavering presence beside you offers some comfort, a salvation in the storm of emotions.

It had gone late, and everybody was going home, some of your friends talked about taking a taxi, but you had declined, saying it was only a short walk home for you. 

The streets were eerily quiet, lit only by the dim glow of streetlights. The chilling wind sent shivers down your spine, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as you walked down the familiar path to the forest. 

If only you had chosen to take the taxi, like Jimin had suggested, none of this would have happened, you think now, replaying the nightmarish events in your mind. 

As you walked home, you heard the unmistakable sound of a car approaching from the side. At first, you brushed it off, but then a window rolled down, and a man’s voice called out to you, offering a ride. 

You declined, trying to keep calm. 

But he persisted, his words becoming more sinister with each attempt to lure you in. 

Your heart pounded in your chest as the car suddenly accelerated, blocking your path. 

Panic surged through your veins, and you froze in your tracks, fear paralyzing your body. 

Before you could react the driver lunged at you, grabbing you from behind. 

You fought with every ounce of strength, but his grip was unyielding. Your desperate attempts to break free only fueled his aggression. A harsh chemical smell filled your nostrils as he forced a cloth over your mouth. 

The world around you blurred, and darkness enveloped your senses. Your mind became hazy, and you lost track of time, lost track of yourself. 

As you recount the horrifying memory, tears stream down your cheeks like a heavy downpour, mingling with the raw emotions that have been suppressed for so long. 

The weight of the experience bears down on you, and you can’t help but feel the burden of self-blame for not making a different choice that night.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jimin’s voice breaks the suffocating silence, his touch a comforting anchor. 

“You are safe now. I’m here, and I won’t let anyone hurt you again” he intertwined his fingers with one of your hands, as he hugged you tightly with the other. 

The action sends a weird tingle down your spine.

The memories are a torment, and you struggle to find the words as you recount the horrors you endured. Your voice quivers, and you take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. It feels like the past is clawing its way back into your present, engulfing you in darkness.

“I woke up in this unfamiliar room,” you begin, your body trembling with the weight of the memories. “There was a bed and a change of clothes, but nothing felt right. I knew something was terribly wrong” your eyes meet Jimin’s, seeking solace and strength.

As you continue, your voice becomes softer, as if you’re afraid to give voice to the nightmares that haunt you. 

“He forced himself on me, even as I screamed, cried, and begged him to stop. ‘No’ meant nothing to him” you utter, the pain evident in your voice. 

Tears glisten in Jimin’s eyes as he sobs softly, his heart aching for the pain you endured. 

He feels terrible and the only way he knows how to alleviate some of the pain, is to hug you tightly. 

“I’m so sorry” he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion, “I wish I could have done more, found you sooner.” 

“You did your best, Jimin,” you assure him, leaning against his shoulder. “You were the light in that darkness, the reason I held on. It’s not your fault” you stroke his back gently.

“Did you ever try to escape?” Yoongi’s question hangs heavy in the air, and you feel your heart tighten with dread. Memories of the countless attempts to break free flood your mind, each ending in devastating consequences.

“Yes,” you reply, the weight of your past pushing you closer to breaking point. “But every attempt only led to more pain. He beat me until I couldn’t move, leaving me bruised and broken.”

You take comfort in Jimin’s embrace, seeking support as you bare your soul, “I thought I could escape, find a way out of that nightmare. But hope faded, and I felt trapped. There was no way out.”

The ever calm Detective leaned forward, his eyes focused intently on you, “Tell me everything you can remember about the surroundings. Even the tiniest details could be crucial in finding this man” he implored, trying to elicit any information that might lead them to the perpetrator.

You close your eyes, trying to recall the blurred images from your escape. 

“I remember it was a rundown neighborhood. Lots of abandoned buildings, overgrown with weeds,” you begin, your voice wavering as the memories resurface. 

“The streets were dimly lit, and there was this eerie silence that made me feel terrified.” 

Jimin’s hand tightens around your arm, offering silent support as you continue. “I ran through narrow alleyways, twisting and turning, trying to put as much distance between me and that place. But everything felt the same, like a never-ending maze.” You sigh deeply, frustration lacing your features.

The Detective’s brows furrow with concern as he takes notes, piecing together the fragmented information. “Did you notice any landmarks or signs?” he asks, hoping for a breakthrough.

You shake your head, feeling helpless and frustrated with your inability to provide more details. “I… I don’t know,” you stammer, your voice laced with disappointment. 

“I was so focused on escaping, I didn’t really pay attention to anything else” you pout defeatedly.

Yoongi’s expression softens, understanding the immense trauma you endured. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures gently. 

“You did what you had to do to survive. We’ll do everything in our power to find this man and bring him to justice” he states assuredly with conviction.

You appreciate his comforting words, but the fear lingers in the back of your mind. 

What if they can’t find him? What if he comes after you again?

Jimin interjects, his voice firm with determination, “We won’t rest until we catch him, Y/N. You’re safe now, and we’ll make sure it stays that way.”

Yoongi nods, sharing the same determination. “We’ll keep investigating and following every lead,” he says, his gaze unwavering.

“Have you ever seen his face?” as the Detective inquires further, memories flood back, and you nod slowly, acknowledging that you had seen his face. 

The room grows tense as both detectives exchange meaningful glances, sensing the gravity of the situation.

“Would you be able to describe him to a sketch artist?” Yoongi asks, his voice steady but his eyes filled with concern.

You take a deep breath, mustering the courage to relive those horrifying moments. 

“I can try,” you reply, feeling the weight of the task ahead. 

Despite the fear that grips you, you know that providing any information could be crucial to catching the man who tormented you. Detective Yoongi then asks about the perpetrator’s name, and you recount how he demanded to be called ‘Hyun’. 

The room falls silent for a moment, filled with a heavy tension as you recall the haunting memories.

Exhaustion settles in, and you yearn for a moment of respite to process the traumatic events you’ve just relieved. 

However, your desire for peace is interrupted when there’s a knock at the door. As it slowly opens, your parents enter the room, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

Tears well up in your eyes as you see your parents, and you reach for them, seeking comfort in their embrace. 

You feel a mixture of emotions; relief to see their familiar faces, but also anxiety about possibly explaining what had happened. As your parents approach you, their eyes filled with love and concern, your heart swells with mixed emotions. 

It has been so long since you last saw them, and their presence brings comfort and a sense of home. However, the burden of the truth you carry prevents you from fully embracing their warmth. 

You don’t want to burden them with the horrific details of your ordeal, afraid that it will shatter their perception of you.

Your parents greet Jimin with warmth and confusion directed towards the other man in the room. Detective Yoongi introduces himself and explains that he’s here to help with the investigation. 

“He’s the detective in charge of my abduction case,” you explain, watching their expression shift from curiosity to shock and then concern. 

They eye him cautiously at first, but the firm handshake seems to ease their worries a bit. Jimin stands up, feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to protect you, even though he knows it was not his fault. 

Your parents look at Jimin, grateful for his presence. Jimin gestures for your dad to take the chair, and your heart swells with gratitude for your best friend’s support. With a soft smile, your father sits down beside you, and you appreciate the familiar comfort of his presence. 

Jimin steps back, giving you and your parents some space, but you can see the concern still etched on his face.

Detective Yoongi, now realizing the delicate dynamics, reassures your parents that they are doing everything they can to find the perpetrator and bring him to justice. He explains that your statement is crucial in the investigation and that they’ll do their best to support you throughout the process. He hums in approval and leaves the room.

Amidst the lingering tension, your parents turn their focus back to you, showering you with affection and love. They express how much they have missed you and how glad they are to have you back home. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” your father asks, his voice filled with love and worry. You nod, attempting to mask the pain and trauma that still lingers within you. 

You don’t want them to see the broken parts of you, fearing it will break their hearts too. Tears well up in your eyes as you feel the weight of their love, and you wish you could tell them everything, but you can’t bring yourself to share the horrors you’ve endured.

You squeeze their hands gently, offering a grateful smile.

 “I missed you both so much too” you say, your voice quivering with emotions.

As your parents speak, telling you that you can have your old room back at home, a mix of emotions floor your heart. Relief, fear, and uncertainty clash within you. 

You had imagined returning to your apartment, your sanctuary, after being rescued, but reality dawns on you like a heavy cloud. Your apartment is gone, leased to someone else while you were missing, and the truth hits you hard.

Your wide eyes betray your uneasiness, and your mother picks up on it immediately. 

Her comforting presence beside you offers a glimmer of reassurance, but your mind is still racing. She begins to explain the situation, how your absence resulted in losing the apartment. 

You can’t help but feel a pang of sadness and nostalgia for the place you once called home.

“I understand, mom” you say, trying to put on a brave face, but the disappointment lingers. Deep down, you had hoped to return to your apartment, to reclaim a piece of your past. Yet, it seems that life has moved on without you, and the reality of it stings.

Your dad’s explanation about them not paying the rent during your absence makes logical sense, but it adds to the weight on your shoulders. You don’t want to burden them further, and you know they have their own lives and financial responsibilities to take care of.

The conflicting emotions within you intensity. On one hand, you appreciate your parents’ offer and their unconditional love, but on the other, you crave a sense of comfort, independence and the familiarity of your own space. 

You long to heal and rebuild your life on your terms, without feeling smothered.

Taking a deep breath, you gather the courage to express your feelings. 

“I appreciate it, mom, Dad. I really do,” you start, your voice wavering slightly. 

“But I think I need some time to find my own footing again. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, but… I need some space to heal and find myself again”. 

Your parents exchange a glance, a mixture of understanding and concern evident in their eyes. They love you deeply, and they want what’s best for you. After a moment of silence, your mother speaks softly, “We understand, sweetheart. We’ll support whatever decision you make. Just know that we’re here for you, no matter what”.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you feel the weight of their love and understanding. 

In that moment, you realize that while you may not have your old apartment, you have something more precious - a family that will stand by you through thick and thin.

As your parents express their concern and worry about your safety by staying by yourself, you try to reason with them, emphasizing your independence and adulthood, you’re almost twentynine years old! 

However, your mom’s heartfelt response tugs at your heartstrings, making you realize just how much they care about you. “I know you want me close and safe, and I appreciate that more than you can imagine,” you say, trying to convey your love and gratitude. 

“But I also need to find my own way and regain some semblance of normalcy.”

You explain as Jimin interjects, “She can stay at my place.” 

You whip your head to look at Jimin, feeling tears fill your eyes at his caring offer.

The tension in the room escalates as your parents ponder Jimin’s offer. They are cautious about trusting someone else with your safety, especially considering the circumstances of your disappearance. 

However, Jimin steps in, ready to prove his dedication and reliability.

“I understand your concerns, and I promise, I will do everything in my power to protect her,” Jimin says firmly, looking straight into your parents’ eyes. 

“I blame myself for what happened, for not making sure she got home safely that night, and I will not let it happen again. She will be safe with me” he assures them with a stern yet comforting look. 

His sincerity and determination leave a lasting impression on your parents. You can see their hesitancy gradually giving way to trust. Jimin’s gesture of holding their hands and expressing remorse further strengthens their belief in him.

“I will never be able to forgive myself if something happens to her again,” Jimin adds, his voice laced with regret. “I promise you, I will be her guardian and protector.”

Your parents eventually agree to the arrangement, recognizing that Jimin’s dedication to your safety outweighs their concerns. 

They also think that Jimin will be able to keep you safer, with him being a cop now. They thank him for his commitment, and you can see a sense of relief wash over them. 

Your mom still wants to make sure that you are completely comfortable with the situation, and asks if you are fine staying at Jimin’s place.

“I promise you, I’m okay staying at Jimin’s,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “He’s been there for me since I got back, and I trust him completely”.

Your mother’s worried expression softens as she looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. “Are you sure, sweetheart? We just want what’s best for you”.

You nod, giving her a small smile, “I know, mom. I know both of you worry about me, and I appreciate that. But being at Jimin’s feels… comforting. It’s like I have a sense of security there,” you give a small smile. 

Deep down you know you won’t feel safe or comfortable with your own place like you initially thought, but this was a good compromise.

Your father places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “If you ever feel uncomfortable or unsafe, don’t hesitate to call us, okay?” we’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“I will, dad” you promise, feeling grateful for their understanding. 

“But please know that I need some time to myself too. I want to try and rebuild my life, and I think being at Jimin’s will help me with that, until I feel comfortable eventually getting my own place,” both your parents nod, accepting your decision while still trying to protect you. 

They express their love once again, and you can see the worry lingering in their eyes as they bid you goodbye.

As they leave, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of emotions settling in. Jimin returns to your side, looking concerned as he takes the seat beside you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your face and you blush at the touch.

“I will be,” you reply honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s just… it must be hard for them, you know? To see me like this.” 

Jimin wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. “They love you, Y/N. And they’ll do whatever they can to protect you. It’s natural for them to worry.” 

You nod, feeling comforted by his presence. “I know. But I also need to figure things out on my own. I need to feel like myself again.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Jimin says firmly. “I’m here for you, every step of the way. We’ll face this together.”

You look up at him, finding solace in his unwavering support. “Thank you, Jiminie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiles softly at his nickname, his eyes filled with warmth and love, “You’ll never have to find out. I’ll always be here for you.” 

With Jimin by your side, you know you have someone who truly understands and cares for you.

As you prepare to leave the hospital, haven met with the sketch artist too, the weight of what lies ahead settles on your shoulders. You’ve endured so much, and now the road to recovery stretches out before you like an uncertain path. 

Jimin stands beside you, his presence a constant source of strength, but you can’t help but feel the apprehension growing inside you.

Taehyung approaches you with a sympathetic smile. 

“Y/N, I’ve arranged a few appointments with a psychologist for you,” he says gently, handing you a small card. “She specializes in sexual trauma and can help you work through everything you’ve been through.” 

You take the card, trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to spill over. 

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say softly. Feeling your heart warm at his kindness, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” 

Taehyung nods, his eyes filled with empathy, “Just take it one step at a time,” he advises. “Healing isn’t easy, but you’re not alone in this journey” he assures you and bids you goodbye with a soft smile and wave of his hand.

You know he’s right, but the fear of facing your trauma head-on still lingers. The thought of reliving those harrowing moments again fills you with dread. Jimin senses your unease and pulls you into a comforting embrace. 

“You don’t have to do this alone” he whispers, his voice soothing.

You find comfort in his words, knowing that he’ll be there every step of the way. As you leave the hospital, you feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you; relief to be out of that place, anxiety about the therapy sessions, and gratitude for the support you have gotten so far.

As you step into Jimin’s home, a mixture of relief and vulnerability washes over you. The walls seem warmer, the air more comforting, and the thought of having Jimin nearby offers a sense of security you haven’t felt in a long time. 

You can’t help but feel grateful for his unwavering support.

Jimin leads you to the guest bedroom, its inviting decor and cozy atmosphere offering a stark contrast to the horrors you’ve endured. The room feels like a sanctuary, a place where you can begin to heal. You thank him softly, words barely escaping your lips as you try to convey the depth of your gratitude.

“I want you to feel at home here,” Jimin says with a tender smile. 

“Take all the time you need, and remember, I’m right across the hall if you need anything, okay?” 

His reassurance soothes the residual anxiety that clings to you like a shadow. You nod, a sense of trust growing between you and Jimin, knowing that he’ll always be here to catch you when you stumble.

“I’ve taken a few days off work to help you settle in. I hope that’s okay” he explains as you follow him into the hallway. 

“That’s very sweet of you Jimin” you feel a blush creep up on your face, as your heart feels full of love with his kind actions.

As Jimin gives you the rest of the tour of his home, you can’t help but marvel at the simple yet elegant design that surrounds you. 

Each room holds its unique charm, and you find yourself drawn to the minimalistic aesthetic that exudes a sense of tranquility. 

The bathrooms feel like a serene oasis, adorned with white and blue tiles that create a soothing ambiance. You imagine yourself soaking in the bathtub, letting the worries of the day dissolve in the warm water. 

The guest rooms, tough simple, offer a cozy retreat. 

His home office is a testament to his dedication and hard work, with a touch of understated elegance in the dark gray hues that enhance the room. It’s a place where he has likely spent countless hours diligently pursuing his career as a police officer and now detective. 

Moving into the heart of the house, the open floor plan of the kitchen, living, and dining room leaves you in awe. 

The kitchen, with its white and wooden accents, feels like the heart of the home, a place where love and warmth fill the air. The wooden tabletop and thick black metal legs of the dining table strike a perfect balance between rustic and modern, inviting you to gather around for shared meals and laughter. 

The living room, with its magnificent dark green couch, beckons you to sink into its comforting embrace. As you envision spending cozy nights here, watching movies or simply enjoying each other’s company, you feel a sense of belonging settling in your heart.

Throughout the tour, Jimin’s excitement and pride in his home are palpable. 

It’s evident that he has put love and care into every corner, turning his house into a home - a place of comfort and refuge, not just for himself, but for those he cares about.

As you continue to explore the rooms, you can’t help but appreciate the changes he’s made since the last time you visited. It’s a reflection of how he’s grown, just as you have, over the years.

“This place is beautiful, Jimin,” you finally say, your voice filled with genuine admiration. “I can see how much effort and love you’ve put into making it your own.”

A soft smile graces his lips and he looks around the familiar space with newfound pride. “Thank you, Y/N” he replies. “I’m glad you like it. And I hope you’ll feel at home here too.”

You nod, feeling the burden of your past gradually lifting as you step into this new chapter of your life. This house, with its comforting embrace and the man standing beside you, promises a future filled with hope, love, and healing.

“Did you renovate it? I don’t remember it looking like this when we were kids” you inquire, genuinely curious about the transformation.

“Yeah, I did it myself,” Jimin replies with a proud smile, his hands finding refuge in his pockets.

“It’s really stunning! I also liked how your parents kept it before. But this looks so modern,” you point out, acknowledging the aesthetic choices he’s made.

As you stand in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the emotions flickering in his eyes when you mention his parents. Sensing there’s a deeper story behind the changes, you ask, “How come your parents don’t live here anymore?”.

His eyes hold a mixture of nostalgia and pain as he reveals, “My dad died of cancer three years ago. My mom couldn’t keep up with the big house, so I bought it from her, and she lives in a small apartment in the city insead.”

You feel a pang of sorrow for him and his family, realizing the significance of this home in their lives and the changes they’ve had to endure. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” you say, offering genuine condolences.

“How were you supposed to know?” Jimin chuckles softly, his laughter carrying a hint of vulnerability. “It’s okay, really. You couldn’t have known.”

His ability to lighten the mood in such a sensitive moment surprises you, but it also speaks volumes about his resilience. Jimin seems to create an atmosphere of ease around topics that could be emotionally overwhelming, and you can’t help but appreciate his ability to find comfort even in the face of loss.

The rest of the day rushes by in a blur of conversation and laughter, leaving you with little time to process the burden of your emotions or even the movies you watched together on Jimin’s TV. The comfort of his company and the safe haven of his home envelop you like a warm embrace.

As the hours pass, you find yourself relaxing in Jimin’s presence, your guard slowly lowering. 

When a low rumbling sound fills the living room, you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Are you hungry, Y/N?” Jimin asks, amused by the hungry protests of your stomach. 

He tries to suppress his grin with his hands, but the laughter bubbling from him is unmistakable. Cursing your traitorous stomach internally, you can’t help but nod in defeat. It seems your body is making its desires known without your consent. 

Jimin assures you that he has some leftover lasagna, and your mouth waters at the thought. As he brings the steaming dish to the table, the savory aroma fills the room, making your stomach growl even louder in anticipation.

Taking your first bite, you’re pleasantly surprised at how delicious it tastes, and a satisfied ‘mmmmh’ escapes your lips. 

Jimin cuckles in response, his eyes twinkling with joy at your enjoyment. You can see the genuine happiness in his face as he watches you savor the meal.

“I take it you like it. I’m glad,” he says with a hint of pride, his own plate half-empty as he eats alongside you. 

You nod enthusiastically, your mouth full, and give him a thumbs-up to emphasize your approval. As you continue eating, the conversation flows effortlessly, and the laughter comes easily. 

Jimin’s ability to make you feel at ease and comforted shines through, and you find yourself opening up more than you ever thought possible. As the evening wears on, you realize that time has flown by, and you can’t help but wonder how you could feel so comfortable and at home with someone you’ve been apart from for so long. 

But in Jimin’s presence, it feels like you’re rediscovering a piece of yourself that you thought was lost forever.

As the night deepens, it becomes apparent that sleep is elusive, no matter how much you try to coax it. 

An odd sense of anxiety grips you tightly, and you find yourself restless and uneasy. 

You can’t quite understand the reason behind these sudden jitters, especially since you’ve slept over at Jimin’s place countless times in your younger days, but together is different; the weight of your past trauma seems to be pressing heavily on your mind.

Jimin, ever the perceptive friend, picks up on your unease. 

He offers a comforting reassurance, assuring you that you can always knock on his door if you need anything. His touch on your hand feels like a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty, offering a sense of calm amidst the turmoil of emotions.

With a grateful smile, you bid him goodnight and retreat to your designated room. 

But once you’re alone, your mind becomes a battleground of thoughts and emotions. The reality of what has happened to you, the journey of healing that lies ahead, and the uncertainty of the future all bombard your consciousness like a relentless freight train. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, you mind spinning with questions and fears. 

How will you find the strength to heal? Will you ever be able to overcome the haunting memories? Can you ever trust again after such a traumatic experience?

The silence of the night only amplifies the cacophony in your head. The ceiling above you becomes a canvas for your restless mind, and you find yourself staring blankly, unable to shut off the overwhelming thoughts.

Every creak and rustle in the house feels magnified, and your heart races with each little noise. Despite Jimin’s presence just across the hall, the fear of facing the darkness alone feels suffocating. 

You try to remind yourself that he’s there for you, but your mind is stubborn, refusing to relinquish its grip on the fear that has taken root in your heart.

Hours pass, but sleep remains elusive. 

The minutes stretch into eternity, and you’re left feeling like a prisoner of your own mind. 

The night feels like a never-ending struggle between the desire for rest and the fear of letting your guard down. 

The morning sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow over everything in the room. 

The pleasant aroma of pancakes fills the air, offering a momentary distraction from the weariness that clings to your body. But no matter how hard you try to revive yourself, the undereye bags and puffy eyes persist, bearing witness to the restless night that robbed you of much-needed sleep.

You walk into the kitchen where Jimin’s cheerful voice breaks through the haze of exhaustion, greeting you with a bright smile as he expertly flips pancakes on the stove. 

“Good morning, Y/N, did you sleep well?” he asks, his voice a melody of kindness and warmth. Despite his cheerfulness, his eyes widen in concern as they meet your tired gaze. 

He instinctively knows something is amiss.

You can’t help but sigh in response, slumping onto one of the wooden bar stools. Your body feels heavy, burdened by the weight of a night spent wrestling with haunting memories. 

“Not really,” you admit, your voice tinged with fatigue and vulnerability.

Jimin’s eyes soften with sympathy, and he gently scolds you for not reaching out for company when sleep eluded you. 

“My brain just wouldn’t shut off,” you confess, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice.

“I kept thinking about the past and all the stuff that I missed… about my future too,” you bury your face in your hands, seeking solace from the exhaustion that permeates your body.

In this vulnerable moment, you find comfort in Jimin’s presence. It’s as if his caring demeanor and genuine concern create a sanctuary for your weary soul. He doesn’t push you to talk about the details of your thoughts; instead, he simply stands beside you, a steady pillar of support.

As the pancakes sizzle on the griddle, the aroma fills the air, intertwining with the tender atmosphere between you and Jimin. The morning light casts a gentle glow, and for a moment, you feel a fleeting sense of calm amidst the storm inside you.

Jimin places a plate of warm pancakes in front of you, garnished with chocolate and jam. He offers this simple gesture as a balm for your tired spirit. 

“Here, have some breakfast. It’ll give you some energy” he says, his voice tender.

In that moment, you realize that this is more than just a shared meal. It’s an act of love and care, a way for Jimin to nourish not only your body but your soul too. And as you take a bite of the pancakes, you can’t help the blush that creeps on your face and feel grateful for having someone like him in your life - the kind of friend who stays by your side, offering comfort and understanding.

“It smells really good and looks so yummy, Jimin,” you remark with a genuine smile, appreciating not only the food but also the effort he’s put into making you feel at ease.

Jimin’s own smile widens, pleased to see you enjoying the meal he prepared. He joins in, savoring the taste of the pancakes alongside you. The moment is filled with a sense of calm, a temporary respite from the tumultuous thoughts that have been plaguing you.

But even in this tranquil moment, Jimin’s concern for your well-being doesn’t waver. 

He clears his throat gently, drawing your attention. 

“Maybe you should make an appointment with the psychologist, like that nurse Taehyung suggested,” he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. 

The sincerity in his words touches your heart. You can see the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his care for you. His genuine concern is both comforting and overwhelming, reminding you that you don’t have to face your pain alone.

With a small chuckle, Jimin adds, “Of course, you can talk to me too. I wouldn’t mind lending you my ear.” 

It's an offer that comes from the heart, a promise to be there for you in any way you need. You feel a sense of gratitude wash over you, grateful to have Jimin in your life.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” you reply, recognizing the wisdom in his suggestion. 

“And thank you so much, Jimin. It means a lot to me, all that you’re doing to help me,” a lot more than you would ever know, you almost want to add.

Later that day, as the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue through the windows of Jimin’s living room, as you stood there with Jimin, you found yourself facing an entirely different challenge: self-defense. 

Jimin stressed the value in being able to defend yourself, should you ever need it (especially with your perpetrator still at large). 

It is a practical and necessary step, given the circumstances. Jimin’s concern for your safety is evident. And you appreciate his determination to empower you. The seriousness of the situation loomed over you, but Jimin’s presence was a reassuring anchor.

“Alright, pay close attention,” Jimin says, his voice steady and encouraging. His arms gently wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against his solid frame. Feeling his heartbeat against your back brings a sense of flutters and comfort as you listen intently to his instructions and you already feel your breath quicken.

“First, if someone tries to choke you from behind, you need to act quickly,” he explains. 

“Use your elbows to strike their ribs or stomach. It forces them to loosen their grip.” 

As he demonstrates the movement, his arm guides your own, helping you to mimic the motion. His warm touch feels electrifying, and you feel heat rise in your cheeks. Your elbow hits his arms, and you can feel the strength in his muscles as he adjusts the pressure. 

“Good job” he praises you, a smile evident in his voice. Jimin’s encouraging words spurs you on, and you feel your confidence growing with each practiced movement. 

“Remember,” he says, his tone becoming more serious, “Don’t hesitate to use your elbow, knees, and even your fists if necessary. Your safety comes first.”  

He demonstrates the proper stance, weight distribution, and how to strike effectively without injuring yourself. As he continues to teach you, you find yourself amazed at his patience and skill. 

He moves with fluidity, demonstrating each technique with precision. It must be his dancing major, that gives him so much grace. You are entranced by his elegance and register your heartbeat quicken and your breath shorten. 

While the situation was serious, his lighthearted spirit shone through as he let you practice some kicks on him. 

“Nice kick!” he grinned, clearly impressed by your progress. 

“But keep your balance steady. You don’t want to lose it and give your attacker an advantage.”

With Jimin’s guidance, you practice each move diligently. It was physically demanding, and hard to keep your mind off his strong muscles, but his presence and encouragement made the experience far more manageable. 

He patiently corrects your posture and movements, helping you understand the importance of control and awareness.

As the session is nearing its end, Jimin demonstrates one final move. 

“And if you ever find yourself cornered,” he said, “A quick powerful kick to the groin can create the opening you need to escape.” 

With a nod you chuckle nervously, and take a step back and mimic the movement from earlier, visualizing the scenario in your mind. 

“Trust me,” he says, meeting your eyes with a serious expression, “It’s a highly effective move.”

Jimin’s eyes twinkle with pride as you execute the move with determination. 

“You’re doing great, Y/N,” he says, his voice gentle yet resolute. “Learning self-defense is about feeling empowered and in control. It’s not about being invincible, but knowing you have options.”

As you walk into the living room, a sense of excitement fills you. 

“I’ve made an appointment with the psychologist, and she actually had a spot for me tomorrow morning because someone canceled theirs,” you share with a bright and hopeful tone, eager to let Jimin know about the progress you’ve made.

Jimin’s attention shifts from the movie he’s watching, and he turns to face you, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness for you. 

“That’s nice, Y/N,” he responds with a warm smile. But it doesn’t end there; he takes it a step further, showing his unwavering support and care for you. 

“I can drive you tomorrow and wait for you so you don’t have to go alone,” he offers, reaching out to envelop you in a comforting hug. His embrace feels like a safe haven, grounding you amidst uncertainties that lie ahead. He is warm and soft, making your heart flutter. 

It’s a gesture that speaks volumes about his dedication as a friend, and you feel grateful for having him by your side during this journey of healing.

“Thank you, Jimin,” you murmur, your voice tinged with sincerity. 

“Having you there with me means the world,” you hug him back, relishing in his embrace longer than friends probably should, but you can't help yourself.

He pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he gazes into your eyes, his own filled with compassion. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N,” he replies softly. 

“I’ll always be here for you, no matter what”. In that moment, you know that his words are not just empty promises; they hold true weight and meaning. He’s proven time and again that he’ll go above and beyond to support and protect you, and his presence has become an anchor in your life.

As Jimin’s arms envelop you in another warm and comforting hug, your heart races with a mixture of emotions. The familiar touch of his hands against your back sends tingles down your spine, and you can’t help but yearn for more. 

But as much as you cherish his affection, you know the depths of your feelings go beyond mere friendship. Throughout the years, you’ve hidden your unrequited love for Jimin, fearing that revealing it would jeopardize the precious bond you share. 

You’ve watched from the sidelines as he laughed, smiled, and even dated others, all the while silently nursing your love for him. Now, being back in his embrace, your feelings resurface with a vengeance, and it’s becoming harder to suppress them.

Jimin’s genuine kindness and the way he selflessly cares for you only deepen the chasm in your heart. You find yourself yearning for more than just his friendship, craving a connection that goes beyond what you’ve ever shared. 

But the fear of rejection and the potential loss of his friendship weigh heavily on you.

As his scent fills your senses, you can’t help but wonder if he could ever feel the same way about you. 

The thought of confessing your feelings terrifies you, and you push it to the back of your mind, trying to focus on the present moment instead. 

Yet, the trauma you’ve endured has left a mark on your soul, casting a shadow over your emotions. The assault and abuse have stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, making it harder to decipher what is real and what is merely a product of your pain.

As you bury your face in his hair, you cling to the familiar comfort he provides, but you can’t help but feel the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. 

The tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over, and you take deep breaths to regain control.

As the movie’s scenes play out on the screen, you find it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything but the warmth of Jimin’s body pressed against your own. 

Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and each breath feels shallow as his proximity sends a surge of electricity through you. It takes all your willpower to remain composed and not let your feelings betray you.

Jimin’s closeness is both a blessing and a curse. 

On one hand, you relish the feeling of his body so close to yours, a sensation you’ve secretly yearned for. 

On the other hand, it intensifies the turmoil of emotions within you, making it difficult to keep your composure. 

As the movie’s plot unfolds, you find yourself stealing glances at Jimin’s profile, mesmerized by his features and the way the flickering light of the TV dances across his face. 

You wish you could be brave enough to tell him how you feel, but the fear of rejection and the potential loss of his friendship paralyze you. Every fiber of your being longs to lean into him, to feel his arms wrap around you in a warm embrace. 

Yet, you fight the urge, knowing that doing so would only deepen your emotional entanglement and make it even harder to keep your feelings hidden.

Despite the inner chaos, you manage to keep a facade of calm, smiling when appropriate and nodding along to the movie’s plot. 

But inside, you’re a jumbled mess of emotions, and you can’t help but wonder if Jimin can sense your turmoil. As the movie comes to an end, you take a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing heart. 

You’re grateful for the movie's conclusion, hoping that it will give you a moment to regain your composure. But even as the credits roll, Jimin doesn’t move away, and you find yourself torn between the desire to stay in his embrace and the need to escape the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

In the end, you opt to remain where you are, cherishing the closeness you share with Jimin and savoring the fleeting moments of intimacy. Though unspoke, the unrequited love you hold for him lingers in the air, creating an invisible bond between you two that goes beyond mere friendship.

The hours pass by in a blur, filled with laughter, heartfelt conversations, and a marathon of movies that bring moments of joy and escapism. You find solace in Jimin’s presence, his genuine care, and the comfort of being so close to someone you’ve admired secretly for years. 

Yet, as the day draws to a close, a looming sense of emotional exhaustion settles over you like a heavy fog.

The impending therapy session hangs over your head like a dark cloud, filling you with both anxiety and hope. You know it’s necessary, that facing your trauma is a crucial step toward healing, but the thought of reliving those painful memories is daunting.

As the night deepens, you find yourself sitting on Jimin’s bed, lost in thoughts. The room is bathed in a soft glow, emanating from a small lamp on the nightstand. Jimin, ever observant, sits next to you, his warm presence a source of comfort.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, remember?” he says gently, his voice tender and caring.

You look into his eyes, seeing the genuine concern in them, and you feel your heart clench. 

How much you long to pour your heart out to him, to share the burden of your emotions, and to finally reveal the depth of your feelings. 

But fear holds you back, and you keep your emotions tightly guarded. 

“I appreciate that, Jimin,” you reply, a hint of vulnerability seeping into your voice. “It’s just… I’m afraid of what might come up during the therapy session.”

Jimin reaches out, placing a comforting hand on yours, “I understand. Facing the past can be overwhelming, but remember, you are not alone in this. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

The tenderness in his touch and the reassurance in his words almost break the dam you’ve built around your emotions. 

You want to lean into him, to finally confess your hidden affection and to seek true comfort in his embrace. Yet, the fear of jeopardizing your friendship keeps your heart in check.

As you lie in your own bed that night, sleep eludes you again. 

Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, and the weight of unspoken words feels almost unbearable. 

You wonder if Jimin can sense the depth of your feelings, if he has any inkling of the unrequited love that resides within you. 

The therapy session looms ahead, and you can’t help but feel both apprehensive and hopeful about the healing it may bring. You know it won’t be an easy journey, but having Jimin by your side, even as a friend, gives you the strength to face the painful memories that haunt you. 

As you drift into a restless slumber, the turmoil within you persists, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto your feelings and the fear of what might happen if you reveal them.

The morning air is crisp, and the first rays of sunlight gently kiss the edges of the sky as you step out of the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. Jimin’s consideration never fails to amaze you, and as you get dressed, you can’t help but think of all the little ways he has shown his kindness and care.

With the appointment with the psychologist looming ahead, you’re both nervous and eager to finally start the healing process. As you make your way to the kitchen, the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast fills the air, and your stomach growls in anticipation. His culinary skills are impressive, and you can’t help but appreciate his efforts to make your morning special.

He hands you a green smoothie, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles warmly. 

“I know you need all the energy you can get today,” he says, his voice gently and encouraging. You take a sip, savoring the fresh and invigorating taste of veggies and fruits, while feeling a rush of gratitude for having someone like Jimin in your life. 

Together, you sit at the dining table, and with every bite, you feel the warmth of his presence seep into your soul. 

The connection between you and Jimin grows stronger with each shared meal and conversation, yet there’s still an unspoken understanding that hangs in the air. 

As you finish breakfast, you exchange glances, and it’s as if the unspoken words are dancing on the edges of your lips. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how his kindness and friendship have been a lifeline in the darkest of times, but the fear of jeopardizing what you have holds you back. 

You find yourself lost in his gaze, unable to look away, and it’s in that moment that you feel a flicker of hope. 

Maybe, just maybe, the unspoken love between you is not one-sided. 

Maybe Jimin’s tender gestures and caring ways are more than just friendly acts?

But before you can delve deeper into your thoughts, Jimin’s voice breaks the silence. 

“Are you ready for today?” he asks softly, his eyes full of concern and support.

With a small nod, you find your voice, “I am, and I’m grateful you'll be there with me.”

His smile widens, and he reaches across the table to take your hand in his, the contact sending a warm shiver down your spine. 

“I’ll always be there for you, no matter what,” he says, his words carrying a deeper meaning that you can’t ignore.

As you sit in the car, the silence between you and Jimin speaks volumes. It’s not the awkward silence you had anticipated; rather, it’s a comforting one. You find solace in the familiarity of Jimin’s presence, and his unspoken support eases some of the anxiety building up inside you. 

As Jimin pulls up to the tall building, its glass facade reflecting the city’s hustle and bustle, you feel a mix of nerves and determination. Jimin follows you outside and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before stepping inside. 

As you grip the handle to the tall building, your heart races in your chest like a wild stallion. 

The weight of unfamiliarity and the daunting prospect of sharing your innermost thoughts with a stranger collide, setting off an explosion of anxiety and nervousness within you. 

You take a deep breath, knowing that this is a pivotal moment in your journey to heal and move forward. 

This is uncharted territory for you, but you’re determined to brave this new experience.

The reception area is modern and welcoming, but your heart still races as you approach the front desk. The green plants add a touch of serenity, momentarily easing the tension coiled in your body. 

The receptionist smiles warmly, and you check in using your new social security card, a symbol of your newfound strength and resilience.

Taking a seat, you try to steady your breath and silence the thunderous pounding in your ears. 

Your palms feel sweaty, and you quickly wipe them on your things, hoping to dispel any signs of unease. 

You remind yourself that it’s normal to feel nervous, but you won’t let it deter you from seeking the help you need. 

Just as you’re about to give in to the overwhelming anxiety, you feel a gentle hand on your thigh. You turn to Jimin sitting beside you, his presence like a comforting anchor in the storm. He gives you a reassuring smile as he lightly squeezes your thigh, his eyes filled with support and understanding.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you,” he says softly, and you feel a wave of gratitude wash over you. 

The fact that he’s willing to stay by your side, even in the face of your inner struggles, makes your heart swell with affection. As you sit together in the waiting area, you find solace in Jimin’s presence. 

The unspoken bond between you grows stronger with each passing moment, and you feel a sense of reassurance that you’re not alone in this journey of healing.

Your heart skips a beat as you’re abruptly brought back to reality by a woman’s voice calling your name. 

You quickly stand up, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through your veins. In your haste, you extend your hand to greet her, feeling a little self-conscious about the volume of your response, as you say ‘yes’. 

Her warm and reassuring smile puts you at ease, and you can’t help but notice the genuine kindness in her eyes.

“I’m Chin-Sun, your psychologist,” she introduces herself, her soothing tone like a gentle wave lapping at the shore. 

You exchange a fleeting glance with Jimin, silently acknowledging the strength he’s given you. With a deep breath, you follow the therapist into her office, leaving Jimin behind in the waiting area. 

You feel a flutter of apprehension in your chest, but knowing that Jimin is just outside waiting for you, gives you a sense of security.

As you enter the therapist’s office, you feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you. But with Jimin’s reassurance still lingering, you know you can take that first step towards healing and finally find the courage to confront your past.

Outside, Jimin waits patiently, knowing that you’ll come out stronger, and that he’ll be there every step of the way.

As you enter her office, you’re immediately drawn to the inviting atmosphere that surrounds you. Chin-Sun gestures gracefully towards the plush couch adorned with an array of soft pillows. 

It beckons you to sink into its comforting embrace, and you oblige, feeling a sense of calm wash over you already. 

The small table in front of the couch catches your eye, adorned with candles, tissues, glasses and a jug of water, a thoughtful touch to create a soothing ambiance. 

Seated on a chair in front of the table, Chin-Sun's serene presence envelops the room. Her warm smile and kind eyes put you at ease, and you find yourself feeling more relaxed in her company. 

The office is a perfect balance of tranquility and professionalism. One wall, painted a soothing navy blue, adds a touch of depth and serenity to the space, while the rest of the room remains in calming white tones. 

As you take a moment to glance around, you notice her neatly organized desk, equipped with a computer and other therapeutic resources. 

Chin-Sun picks up her pen and paper, explaining her preference for taking notes. It gives you a sense of comfort to know that your thoughts and feelings will be heard and respected. 

“It’s natural to feel nervous,” she assures, her gentle voice like a lifeline amidst the storm of your thoughts. “This is a place of healing, and there’s no judgment here. You have the power to set the pace, and if it ever becomes overwhelming, don’t hesitate to let me know.” 

As you grapple with the knot of nerves in your stomach, you can’t help but apologize for your nervousness. She leans in, her empathy palpable, and reminds you that there’s no need to apologize. This is your journey, and the feelings you’re experiencing are entirely valid.

“I understand how unfamiliar this may be,” she acknowledges, validating your emotions. 

“But remember, you’re here because you want to explore these emotions and experiences. It's okay to take your time and ease into it.” Her encouragement emboldens you, and you find the strength to meet her gaze. 

You realize that this therapeutic space is not about judgment or quick fixes; it’s about embracing vulnerability and allowing yourself to heal at your own pace.

As you sit in the cozy confines of Chin-Sun’s office, her gentle encouragement puts you at ease. You feel a mixture of relief and vulnerability knowing that she has your medical report from the hospital and will be guiding you through this process with sensitivity and understanding.

She leans forward with a calming presence, offering you both empathy and professional expertise. 

“When you are ready,” she begins, her words a gentle invitation, “can you start from the beginning?”

With each breath, you find the strength to speak your truth. 

As you begin recounting the events that led to your trauma, you focus on the broad strokes as Chin-Sun suggested. The weight of the memories may be heavy, but you remind yourself that sharing them here is an essential step towards healing. 

Chin-Sun listens with unwavering attention, her pen moving gently across the paper, capturing your words with care. She refrains from interrupting, giving you the space to voice your experiences without judgment. 

Her approach allows you to navigate the emotional terrain at your own pace, and you feel seen and heard. 

As you speak, you find solace in her empathetic eyes, and the vulnerability in sharing your story with a stranger gradually dissipates. 

You appreciate that she doesn't pry or push for more details, respecting your boundaries and giving you the freedom to share as much or as little as you feel comfortable with. 

The moments of silence that punctuate your narrative become opportunities for reflection. You appreciate that Chin-Sun doesn't rush to fill the void but rather allows you to gather your thoughts. 

As the session draws to a close, you can sense Chin-Sun's genuine sadness for what you've endured. 

Her compassion has created a safe space for you to share your experiences, and you appreciate her understanding demeanor. With just ten minutes left, Chin-Sun offers you the opportunity to ask any questions or discuss topics you'd like to explore in future sessions. 

You feel a flicker of curiosity and decide to seize the moment.

“Actually… I do have some stuff that’s been on my mind. Can I ask you those questions?” you say, sitting up straight, determined to confront the thoughts that have been swirling in your mind.

Chin-Sun's gentle nod and sip of water give you the encouragement you need to voice your concerns. You share your lingering worry about your captor and whether he might still be out there searching for you. 

The fear in your voice is evident as you whisper your words, as if speaking any louder might draw danger closer.

Understanding the weight of your concern, Chin-Sun responds with empathy, “I understand that. Do you have anybody that can help you feel safe while the police are looking for the perpetrator?”

You take comfort in her soothing smile as you fidget with the hem of your shirt. 

Gathering your thoughts, you find the courage to speak about the one person who has provided you with a sanctuary – Jimin, your best friend and the detective who has taken you into his home. 

Chin-Sun listens intently, acknowledging the significance of having someone like Jimin by your side during this trying time. 

She allows you to express yourself fully, creating a space where your emotions and thoughts are validated.

As the floodgates of your emotions open, you find yourself pouring your deepest fears and vulnerabilities to Chin-Sun. 

The weight of your trauma is overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes, threatening to spill. Though she tries to offer calming words of reassurance, you feel unable to listen. 

The pain and trauma inflicted on you have shattered your trust in men, and you express the feeling that sex is now ruined for you. Images of your horrifying ordeal flash before your eyes, making it hard to escape the haunting memories.

In a desperate attempt to shut out the distressing visuals, you press your hands against your eyes, your body trembling as you curl your feet up onto the couch, seeking some form of comfort and safety. 

Recognizing your anguish, Chin-Sun gently hands you tissues and moves to your side, offering a comforting hug.

“It might be incredibly hard in the beginning. But it is possible to trust again. It’s also possible to have sex again, if that is something you want. Just take your time and progress slowly. Do what you are comfortable with and stop and voice your feelings if you ever feel like it or if it goes too far,” she says, her comforting presence providing you a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

As you struggle to regain your composure, you take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and shaking body. 

Gradually, the storm of emotions begins to subside, and you feel your body easing into a state of relaxation. The tears eventually stop flowing, leaving you emotionally drained but also somewhat relieved.

Before you leave her office, Chin-Sun offers valuable advice, emphasizing the importance of taking things slowly and not rushing yourself into anything. 

She encourages you to communicate your feelings and boundaries with utmost honesty and to seek out the support of people you trust.

As you step out of the session, the burden of your trauma is not fully lifted, but you feel a glimmer of hope for the future. 

Trusting again may be a daunting journey, but with Chin-Sun's guidance and support, you are determined to embark on the path to healing and rebuilding yourself.

Your resolve to take each step at your own pace, honoring your feelings and emotions as you move forward. 

The thought of having sex again is something that both frightens and intrigues you, but you know that with time and support, you might find the strength to explore intimacy once more. 

As you contemplate the future, you recognize that healing is not a linear process. There will be ups and downs, and that's okay. With Chin-Sun's encouragement, you feel more hopeful that, one day, you will reclaim your sense of security and find solace in the arms of someone who truly cares for you. 

Maybe you have already found that one person, currently waiting for you in the waiting area.

As you enter the waiting area, Jimin's concern is evident on his face. 

He takes in your swollen and red eyes, the dried tear streaks marking your cheeks, and he knows that the therapy session must have been emotionally taxing. 

You sink into the seat, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion.

“Are you alright? How did it go?” Jimin’s voice is filled with genuine concern as he looks for your eyes seeking reassurance. You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking.

“I’m okay, Jimin. The session was good, but I’m just so emotionally drained” you say, your voice heavy with weariness. You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently, seeking comfort and connection.

“I’m here for you, always,” he responds softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. His unwavering support brings a flicker of warmth to your heart, and you find solace in the knowledge that you have someone by your side who truly cares for you.

“I’d like to go home and rest now,” you add, feeling the need to retreat and process the emotions that have been stirred up during the session. Jimin seems to understand, nodding in agreement.

“Of course, let’s head home,” he says as you walk out of the building, turning on the engine and shifting into gear. The car ride is quiet, but it’s a comforting silence, one that allows you to collect your thoughts and emotions.

As you arrive home, Jimin accompanies you inside, his presence a soothing balm to your weary soul. He lets you rest and recuperate, offering his unwavering support from the sidelines. 

In the comfort of his home, you find a safe space to process your feelings and begin the healing journey.

It’s already Jimin’s last day off and he decides it’s a good idea to go grocery shopping so you don’t starve to death while he is working. 

You are not really the best cook, so it was a good idea. 

As you and Jimin stroll through the supermarket, filling the cart with groceries, the atmosphere is light-hearted and fun. Jimin seems to have a talent for turning even the most mundane tasks into enjoyable adventures, and you find yourself laughing and joking along the way.

“Hey, Jimin, remember that time we tried to cook together in college? It was a disaster!” you chuckle, recalling the disastrous attempt at making a simple pasta dish that ended up in a kitchen full of smoke.

Jimin grins, his eyes crinkling with amusement, “Oh, how could I forget? We set off the fire alarm!” he laughs at the disastrous memory.

You both burst into laughter, drawing a few curious glances from other shoppers, but you don't care. It feels good to let go of the burden of the past and embrace the present moment with your best friend.

As you reach the fresh produce section, Jimin playfully challenges you to a ‘vegetable picking’ contest. You both pretend to be food critics, carefully inspecting each vegetable, making exaggerated remarks about their texture and flavor profile. 

It’s all just silly fun, but it brings an undeniable joy to your heart.

With the cart now filled with a colorful array of vegetables, starch, meat, canned goods, and some treats, you make your way to the cashier to pay. 

With the grocery shopping done, you head back to Jimin's car, where he skillfully begins to load the bags into the trunk. 

“I promise not to let you starve,” Jimin says with a grin, pulling more bags in the trunk and giving you a playful wink. 

“We’ll make some delicious meals together. Who knows, maybe we’ll discover a hidden chef in you,” he sticks out his tongue playfully. You laugh, knowing very well that your cooking skills are far from impressive. 

“Well, with your help, I might just become a master chef,” you tease back, enjoying the playful banter like old times.

As you stand next to Jimin, watching him load the groceries into the trunk, a sinister presence seems to linger in the shadows, shrouding you with unease. 

You can't shake off the feeling that someone was there, watching, but when you glance back, the dark hooded figure has vanished without a trace. 

Your heart races, and you try to shake off the feeling, not wanting to worry Jimin.

“Hey, are you alright?” 

Jimin’s concerned voice interrupts your thoughts. 

He looks at you with a hint of worry in his eyes, sensing that something might be bothering you. You quickly put on a facade, mustering a bright smile and nodding, “Yeah, I’m good to go home.”

As you get into the car, your mind is preoccupied with the mysterious figure you saw by the carts. 

Who was it? What were they doing there? 

And most importantly, why did they vanish so suddenly? 

The questions swirl in your mind, but you keep your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to burden Jimin with your sudden discomfort.

The car ride back is filled with an awkward silence that wasn't there before. You steal glances at Jimin, trying to gauge if he senses anything amiss. 

He's focused on the road, but his brows are slightly furrowed, indicating that he's concerned about you.

You decide to break the silence, attempting to distract yourself and Jimin from the unsettling encounter. “Hey, what do you think we should cook for dinner tonight?” you ask, trying to sound casual. You hope that talking about something mundane will help ease the tension.

He glances at you, a small smile forming on his lips, grateful for the change of topic. 

“Hmm, how about that pasta dish we tried to make in college? I think we can ace it this time,” he suggests, trying to bring back the lightheartedness you both had earlier.

You chuckle, glad he’s playing along, even though your mind is still preoccupied with the mysterious figure. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. We’ll make sure to avoid having the firemen drop by for a visit” you reply, trying to match his playful tone.

Jimin can't shake the feeling that something is amiss with you ever since the grocery store. He tries to play it cool, giving you space to open up if you wish, but his concern gnaws at him like an itch he can't scratch. 

He wishes you would confide in him, knowing that you could share anything with him if you wanted to. But as much as he wants to stay by your side indefinitely, reality beckons, and he knows he has to return to work tomorrow. 

The thought of leaving you alone with your worries gnaws at him, but he trusts that you'll reach out to him when you're ready.

As Jimin prepares to leave for work, a mixture of concern and guilt gnaws at him. He hates the idea of leaving you alone, especially when he senses that something is still bothering you. But he knows that pushing you to talk won't help; you need the space to process your thoughts and emotions.

He stands by the door, hesitating for a moment before finally stepping outside. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he assures you, trying to put on a brave face despite his inner turmoil. “Take care of yourself, okay?” he gives you a small hug.

You nod, offering him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I’ll be fine” you say, your voice soft and uncertain. He wishes he could read your mind, to understand the depth of what you’re going through, but he respects your boundaries.  

As the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. 

The silence that fills the house feels overwhelming, and you find yourself wandering aimlessly from room to room, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that linger in your mind.

You spend the day with Jimin's laptop on your thighs scouring YouTube for funny animal videos which gives you a few good laughs. 

It helps keep your mind off the haunting feeling you feel inside. Your laughter is suddenly interrupted when you hear a knock at the door. 

Startled, you place the laptop off to the side on the couch. It couldn’t be Jimin, because it was too early for him to be home yet. 

You feel panic run through your body, but you force your feet to carry you to the door, unlocking it and opening it. 

In front of you stands a man in a brown uniform sporting a yellow logo that reads ‘UPS’ on his left upper chest. You let out a relieved gasp as you place your right hand over your heart giving out a low chuckle at your reaction. 

The UPS delivery man gives you a friendly smile. “Good morning Miss! I have a package for Mr. Park, is he home?” he asks politely. 

“Oh, uh, no, he’s not home yet. But I can sign for it if you want?” you reply feeling a bit flustered by your initial panic.

“Sure thing! Just need your signature here” he says, handing you a small electronic device. You sign your name with a shaky hand, still trying to shake off the lingering nerves.

“Thank you. Have a great day!” he says cheerfully as he hands you the package. You see that your name is on it too.

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, managing a smile as you close and lock the door.

You lock the door and walk back to the couch, dropping down with a heavy thud. 

You turn and twist the package to get some kind of information about its contents. You decide that you might as well open it, as it is also addressed to you. 

You go to Jimin’s home office and find a pocket knife that you use to delicately cut along the tape to reveal its subject. It’s a phone. A brand new one at that! You take it out of the brown package and inspect the case that reads ‘Google Pixel 7A’. 

You unbox the snow coloured phone and find a SIM card and the charger. In a matter of seconds, you have placed the SIM card in the phone and put it in the charger to power it up.

You let the phone charge in peace as you go to the fridge to grab some of the leftover food Jimin had been sweet enough to make for you yesterday. 

Then you go back to leisurely browsing through YouTube on Jimin’s laptop while getting comfortable on the couch. You have already spent hours on the laptop, watching random videos of this and that. 

But it had definitely helped keep your mind off things, so you hadn’t even noticed the time. It is already around dinnertime and you expect Jimin to be home soon. 

You hear a key being inserted in the lock, twisting, and then Jimin enters with a tired smile dorning his face while he drags his body inside. 

You jump to your feet, a burst of energy rushing through you, banishing the remnants of sleep from your body. With giddy feet and a spring in your step, you dance your way to Jimin, your heart warming at the sight of him. 

“Did you have a good day?” you chirp, eager to bring a smile to his tired face.

Jimin lets out a tired sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He runs his hands through his tousled hair, ruffling it in a way that makes your heart flutter.

“Yes, but tiring” he admits, the weariness evident in his eyes.

You pout at him playfully, determined to lift his spirits. 

“Well, you’re home now, and that’s all that matters” you say with a soft smile, hoping to convey your genuine happiness to have him back.

His exhaustion seems to melt away as he gazes at you, and he nods, “And being home with you makes it even better.” 

You reach out and embrace him in a big warm hug, feeling the comforting strength of his arms around you. He leans into the hug, his tiredness fading as he draws comfort from your presence. His scent, a delightful blend of musky vanilla and woody notes, envelopes you, making you feel safe and at home.

You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

His warmth and closeness ease the tension in your body, too, as if you're sharing the burden of the day together. For a moment, you both stand there, just holding each other, finding solace in the simple act of being there for one another.

“I missed you” he whispers into your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. 

You can feel your cheeks flushing red, grateful that he can't see your reaction with your face buried in his chest. You nuzzle your head against his sturdy pectorals, seeking comfort in his embrace, and he chuckles softly at the movement.

“I missed you too,” you murmur, looking up into his eyes. His tired gaze meets yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. You think you catch a hint of longing in his eyes, but you're not entirely sure. There's a depth to his gaze, a hidden emotion that leaves you yearning to unravel the mystery of his thoughts. 

Still holding you close, he presses you gently against his body, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart. His embrace is both protective and tender, making you feel safe and cherished. 

The world outside fades away, and it's just the two of you, lost in the comfort of each other's arms.

You feel your body relax in his embrace, the tension of the day melting away. And then, in a playful gesture, you give him a gentle pinch on his side, right above his hips. 

He jumps slightly, letting out a surprised, yet endearing, small shriek.

“I got your package” you giggle, pointing towards the new phone charging on the couch table. It's your way of breaking the momentary intensity, adding a touch of light-heartedness to the air.

He adjusts his head, following your gaze to the living room, where the package lies.

“Ah, right,” he says, his lips curving into a soft smile. “I hope you like it, princess” he adds, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. 

But as he utters the last word, your body tenses, and a wave of discomfort washes over you. His hand on your back feels heavy, and you take a step back, trying to create some distance.

He notices the sudden change in your demeanor and takes a concerned step forward, studying your face for any sign of distress. His playful expression fades as he sees pain and agony etched on your features. 

You struggle to find your voice, your body still frozen in place, as if trapped in a moment of overwhelming vulnerability.

The room feels suffocating, and you try to take a deep breath, but your lungs refuse to cooperate. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat resonating with fear and unease. 

Your mind races, unable to escape the grip of rising panic. 

In that moment, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, unable to flee from the intensity of his gaze. 

His concern only amplifies your discomfort, making it harder to find the words to explain what's wrong.

You realize you've been holding your breath, and you force yourself to exhale, hoping to dispel the growing tension within you. 

But the freckles of a panic attack linger, threatening to engulf you in their overwhelming embrace.

Jimin takes another step closer, his hands reaching out gently, as if trying to touch the pain you're hiding inside. But you step back again, creating more distance between you. 

It's not that you don't appreciate his concern; it's just that you're not ready to confront the tumultuous emotions swirling within you.

As the tears flow freely down your cheeks, your voice trembles with each syllable, making it difficult to articulate your feelings. 

Jimin's grip on your shoulders loosens, his concern evident in the furrowed lines on his forehead. “I–, I'm sorry,” you manage to stammer out, your breath still uneven. 

“It's just... a horrible memory came over me.”

Jimin's eyes soften with understanding, and he pulls you gently into a comforting hug, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder. His embrace feels warm and secure, offering solace and safety in the midst of your turmoil.

As you regain control of your breath, you find yourself locking eyes with Jimin, his gaze filled with concern and regret. 

The atmosphere is charged with emotions, and you can feel the electricity between you two. Your boldness surprises even yourself, but it's as if a newfound courage has taken hold of you in this vulnerable moment.

“That's what he called me,” you repeat, your voice steadier now. “It's a trigger, I guess...” you gulp the realization down your throat as you try to regain composure.

Jimin's eyes soften, and he nods understandingly, his hands gently holding yours, reassuring you that he's there for you.

“I didn't know,” Jimin repeats, his voice soft and remorseful. “I would never intentionally hurt you, Y/N.”

“I know you wouldn't, Jiminie” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “It's just that... that word brought back memories I've been trying to forget.”

“I'm so sorry you had to go through that,” he says, his voice filled with empathy. 

“You don't have to face this alone” with his presence, the haunting feeling starts to subside, and you find comfort in his unwavering support. You're grateful for the breathing technique you learned in therapy, but it's Jimin's presence that truly grounds you. 

Jimin's hand finds its way to your cheek, gently caressing it as he looks at you with unwavering support. 

“I'm here for you, Y/N. You can tell me anything, and I'll do my best to understand and help.”

His words resonate deep within your soul, making you realize how lucky you are to have him in your life. Despite the pain, there's a warmth in knowing that Jimin genuinely cares about you and wants to be there for you.

As you lock eyes with him, you feel a surge of affection and gratitude. 

“Thank you” you whisper, feeling the weight of your vulnerability lessen with each passing moment. Jimin's embrace tightens, pulling you into him as if he never wants to let you go. 

“You don't have to thank me,” he murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. 

“I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened! I planned to write like 5K words to get back into writing and then boom 40K+ 😆I don’t really know how I feel about this story, but I wanted to post it because I finished something 🎉If it’s shit, I’m really sorry. Also, I just couldn’t decide which hair color to give Jimin, because I love all colors on him, so I settled with black 😊

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[yuurei20]

Silver Info Compilation part 4: Appearance and Emotions

Like most of the characters Silver is often dressed in layers, but based upon his PE uniform illustration it seems he is meant to be very well-muscled (this might be kind of difficult to put across in his in-game sprites?)

According to other characters he is also extremely attractive, with Vil complimenting his “auroral eyes”, “strong nose” and “perfectly formed lips”, recruiting him into a Film Club project based on his facial features alone.

Silver’s magical pen is too large to fit into the jacket pocket of his uniform where most of the other students carry theirs, so he keeps it on a belt.

Vil gifts Silver with a hair care kit in thanks for his participation, but Silver says that now that he has used it all up, his routine is to simply wash himself from head to toe with the same soap as he is “sure it’s sufficient”.

Silver says that he sometimes cuts his hair himself but sometimes Lilia or his friends cut it for him. Silver has many lines about his lack of interest in clothes or grooming. It seems that the other people at the school have difficulty telling when he is or isn’t smiling.

From the Game Guide: “When he does smile—which is rarely—it is a gentle expression. Lilia sees him smile quite often. He usually hides when he is shocked so that others cannot tell he has been caught off guard, but he does get surprised."

Silver's dorm vignette is based around his inability to portray his emotions through his facial expressions, with students in his class gossiping about how they can never tell if he is angry or happy, which he overhears.

Silver enlists Kalim in teaching him how to show his emotions on his face (and Kalim brings Jamil), which Sebek interrupts. Silver and Sebek go to the courtyard to practice swordplay together, where the students from Silver's class overheard Lilia and Malleus discussing how Silver always looks so expressive during his training (particularly when Sebek does well) because Silver is a person who takes joy in the successes of others, adapting to the happiness and sadness of those around him.

Lilia says he hides passionate emotions beneath a poker face, and Malleus says that it's more like Silver just can't express those emotion on his face. Lilia says that he has no problem understanding how Silver is feeling based on his facial expressions.

The eavesdropping students tell Silver he looked cool during practice and they could see his passion. Sebek reveals he asked Silver to practice with him in the courtyard specifically so that they could show to those students that they are wrong about Silver's ability to show emotion, and Silver realizes he doesn't need to change himself after all.

Silver is often apologizing to everyone around him from Malleus to nameless ghosts and everyone in between, sometimes on Sebek’s behalf but most often simply for causing problems for others or for falling asleep.

Silver refers to younger students and his fellow second-year students by their first names with no honorifics, while the third-year students he refers to as first-name-senpai. He refers to Lilia as “Lilia-senpai” in front of others and calls him “Father” when they are alone.

The only character he refers to with a unique honorific is Malleus, whom he refers to as either “Malleus-sama” or waka-sama for young prince / lord / liege /etc. (This is an interesting contrast to Sebek who also refers to Malleus as Malleus-sama, but also to Lilia as Lilia-sama, not hiding his association with Lilia like Silver does.

The honorific that Silver uses for “father” is “father-dono”, which is not an honorific that is used in normal conversation.

According to Yana the original plan was for Silver to refer to Lilia as father-sama, but the repetition of “malleus-sama / waka-sama / father-sama” was too much, so she changed it to the historical drama, warrior-character-type word, “father-dono” instead.

[8-rae-rae-8]

CW Abuse, queerphobia, neglect, religion, attempts of cleansing via religious practices, minor Agere

Johnny was pushed to leave his house as an older teen. Each straw snapped in half as his parents picked at his brain. Seventeen with nowhere to go. A fresh mohawk on his head, eyeliner traced around his bright blue eyes. All he had were the clothes on his back, he didn't have time to get anything else. Not between his mother's shouting and his father being home soon. All he could do was get out his window with a protein bar, wallet, and a half empty bottle of water.

Where was he supposed to go looking like this? With no one close enough to run to, no family that dared to bring him in. They would tell his mother or the cops anyway.

He had enough money in a bank account he could withdraw from, a bus ticket to get past the boarder couldn't be too expensive. If he could just get there and find somewhere cheap to stay, where no one would look for him, he'd make it eventually. Make it where, he didn’t know.

A job was out of the question for now, no proof of residency. The ticket over the boarder was already expensive enough, a hotel was out of the question.

“You’re not the son I raised.”

“God, I fear the adult you’ll grow into.”

The way his mother spoke to herself, bled herself dry pleading to a god that would never reach his hand from the heavens and ‘save her from her son’s madness’.

The way she screamed as he locked his door and opened his window.

“You’re dead set on ruining everything and everyone!!”

She had hissed. She pleaded for him to straighten out, be normal. But no, he dressed in patches, spikes raised on his shoulders, a rainbow painted on his back pocket. Faded and dulled over the years of his parents painting over it with black paint to simply ruin it. Ruin his identity, ruin his image.

“Save the son I disciplined and praised.. For the one who disobeyed me.”

His mother sat on her knees, hands folded in prayer. In pleas. His father joined every so often, muttering prayers at her side. Sycned words, as if they knew what the other would say.

“There’d be time to rectify him.”

Time to fix him.

Time to break him apart and mend him in their image.

That’s how he knew he needed to go. His last straw snapped in half. He needed far away. Across the boarder, safe somewhere else. Somewhere the cops wouldn’t be looking. Somewhere he could slip in.

His first night is spent mapping out the city. Mud stained boots washed by puddles and rain, revealing their old rose design on the side. The yellow stitching stained brown long ago. Walking till his heels bled and his lungs no longer filled with air. The best place to sleep was some shitty motel that was suspiciously cheap. Thirty pounds a night.

Good enough for him.

With the amount of money from his card now transferred to cash, he broke the debit card up and threw it out before he got his place in the motel. Some dull town near Newcastle. Good enough for a sleep now he knew the area. He walked long enough to know that no one was coming for him.

They never did. Not friends, not family. Not even the people that could make a good buck off him, like employers.

In the cold of the motel, he was alone. He shed his drenched clothes to dry on a towel rack. There were no bandages to clean up his heels, just scratchy towels. But home didn’t offer that comfort either. That forsaken house was freezing, colder than any unfamiliar place could be.

Johnny couldn’t recall the many things that made it that way. It had just been so cold for the longest time. He could point out feelings and sensations, but never a full event, like his mind forced him not to remember what all happened. Just in the last week, he could remember the way his skin crawled as his pastor touched his shoulder and pulled him in for a chat. Never was he allowed to stay home, not since he started showing signs of being ‘impure’.

Impurity. That’s why he screams to be seen. As more than a mess, as much than an infection for people to hide their children from. Impurity, rectification… A disease to be healed.

At thirteen, he was first called a devil’s spawn. An evil creation. A faggot over something so simple as art. A piece to study anatomy leading to him losing all access to the outside. His parents even faked his sick days to pull him to church daily until he was deemed cleansed.

His mother’s scolding stuck in his head, no more than words and a tone that conveyed his apparent betrayal.

“You can throw your life away, just not at my expense.”

Over art. Like he was throwing everything away over pencil and paper. His parents surely saw it like that. Constant reminders that he was being watched by an unseen god and angels felt so completely stupid to him, but had him checking corners and his closet every night like habit.

Even still, he checked the motel’s closets and bathrooms. Like he swore he needed, or they would find and watch him. Even so far away from their church.

The sheets scratched at his skin. Maybe he should have thought about his comfort, but that wasn’t exactly something he was sure he could even get. Comfort, far from anything even semi-familiar. So, so very far from everything he knew. In a new town, with bloodied heels and a broken mind. Pieces chipped off every second, he was sure.

What else could be that hazy feeling behind his eyes?

What else could be forcing him to get comfortable, dispite the horrendous sheets?

His eyes shot around the room. Door locked, bathroom light on, closet shut. Then his eyes closed, nearly as if forced by exhaustion and something creeping around in his head. So very alone, but something trying to warm him. It was gentle, like the hum of a lullaby.

Johnny tugged the fabric of his tanktop into his mouth, suckling at the fabric. Each movement helped him relax into the cheap bed, his body heat warming the blankets with ease. He ran hot dispite the chill of the air around him.

He could get himself far enough, he could run till he couldn’t move. But he dreamed of someone coming to save him. Someone like him, someone who would love him unconditionally. Someone turned to two, then three and four. People who would love him with every ounce of their beings.

[fanneyxxx]

My little #OoD Au hcs:

About the whole AU:

- Both are in the yakuza, Kenshi is the oyabun (the leader of this whole organization). This organization is spread all over Tokyo and every other gang is afraid of them.

- They deal with all types of crime except r*pe, because Kenshi considers it unforgivable, Johnny too. No matter how dangerous they are, they never k1ll innocents.

- One day, Johnny was in danger while leaving a bar drunk, and Kenshi saved his life. They stayed together and it turned out that Johnny suffered from depression because his wife left him. He was in Tokyo because of filming. Slowly, Kenshi fell in love with Johnny and started helping him in every way he can, so lovesick Johnny was slowly absorbed into Kenshi's fledgling organization. Everything was kept secret.

- Kenshi and Johnny are both very rich, so they live in a huge house in a hidden part of Tokyo.

- Kenshi taught Johnny how to help him run the business, and it turned out that he could also be of great use as an assassin due to Johnny's brutal fists.

- Johnny gave up his entire career for Kenshi. He disappeared from the TV screens and forgotted his name with the wider world.

- He also changed his name to Johnny Cage from John Carlton because of that

- Kenshi is not completely blind, but he needs Sento's help to see normally

OoD Johnny:

Backstory:

Johnny was an actor, he also had a wife who left him. After that, Johnny tried to move on by filming in new places, so he chose Tokyo. Just like other usual evenings, one day he got drunk there and got into a fight with a couple of street guys, who beat him bloody. Kenshi noticed this on the way home and immediately went to help Johnny. He took him home and started treating the wounds that Johnny got. He stayed with him all night, not knowing what to do, and the next morning they discussed what had happened. Johnny was very grateful to him and Kenshi insisted that they keep in touch. Months then years pass like this and Johnny slowly got into Kenshi's heart and then into the yakuza too.

Personality:

- crazy villain but still emotional

- He completely changed after meeting Kenshi

- He makes decisive and well-planned decisions, he is actually a genius

- Funny and always joking in serious situations

- Deep down there's an insecure John Carlton but just very very deep down

- He gets angry easily, and when he's angry, he creates a lot of drama

- He never cared about homophobes, he always knew that he was bi, a very confident and romantic person

- His love language is physical touch, but he is easily gets flustered when Kenshi flirts with him with gentle and kind words

Habits:

- Not a morning person

- he loves to bathe with Kenshi or just alone, I imagine they have a huge bathroom with a big gold ornate bathtub and a chandelier, plants everywhere. He thinks its so fancy.

- Definitely a cuddler, but he doesn't talk about it because it's not a badass thing

- He likes to party with or without Kenshi

- His fav drink is malibu with pineapple juice

- He also does the paperwork since Kenshi can't see properly, he also loves cooking

- Kenshi is usually very busy, so he also does the laundry when the cleaners can't do it

- He never makes mistakes when it comes to m*rder. He doesn't proud of it but he loves Kenshi too much to care about these things.

- He is very harsh with people, even his own close friends in the gang

Clothes:

- He likes the color blue, but since Kenshi's fav is red, sometimes he wears red as well too

- He loves fur coats

OoD Kenshi:

Backstory:

He never had a lover as he was too busy trying to take over the organization from his father. He didn't want to be a gangster, but fate wanted it that way, which led to the fact that he became the most famous among the other gangs. When he met Johnny, something changed in him.

Personality:

- He is so badass like a true oyabun

- He knows no mercy, only because of Johnny he holds himself back sometimes

- He is better with words than actions

- He was born visually impaired, he hates that sometimes he needs help he finds it annoying (but there's Sento for him)

- hates pity ofc

- Not very emotional, only with Johnny. He thinks that in a profession like this, it is better to turn off your emotions sometimes.

Habits:

- he always preferred showering, but he loves bathing with Johnny for hours (he has to because Johnny wants the princess treatment)

- he has been smoking since he was 17 years old. Johnny only smokes when he is upset or when he just wants to be in heaven for a while

- He slept like a statue until now, but otherwise he likes to cuddle with Johnny late at night (he doesn't have a choice)

- morning person because he has a lot to do every day

- If he's not sending Johnny to take care of someone, he'll go with his katana himself

- A very silent killer, everyone is afraid of him

Clothes:

- He loves red, even his mansion is red themed and fancy

- in love with suits

Relationship:

- At first it was very new to Kenshi

- Johnny didn't fully trust Kenshi at first because he thought he would just take advantage of him. But Kenshi quickly showed him that he could trust him and that he loves him with all his heart

- Their love is sometimes very chaotic and romantic at the same time

- They form a very iconic pair among gangsters, many people only refer to them as the blue-red couple

- They are ready to die for each other at any time

- Kenshi never thought about whether he was gay or not, freestyle, he just fell in love

- Kenshi is the more dominant partner of the couple although it doesn't show, Johnny likes to take the lead when it comes to discussions with others

- Kenshi was obsessed with Johnny at first it was almost scary

- Both of them are crazy but so lovelydovley

Angst:

- Kenshi is often very busy and doesn't have time for Johnny, so Johnny feels ignored

- Kenshi also has a hard time showing his emotions, mostly only succeeding in bed

- Johnny doesn't like being called a wh*re (only likes it when Kenshi says it)

- Johnny only had one breakdown where he actually cried when he had a big fight with Kenshi

- Kenshi sometimes hates the things he has to sacrifice or do

Nsfw:

- Johnny is a power bottom and Kenshi is a top, obviously okay

- When they do it its never meaningless, Kenshi likes to show his love for Johnny

- definitely had hate sx

- Kenshi often speaks japanese when they're at it

- One of the things that made Johnny fall more hopelessly in love with Kenshi was the aftercare every time. Kenshi thinks that this is very important even after all the aggressiveness

- doesn't matter where are they

[trulytiredhermit]

Alright, hear me out on this one.

So i was thinking, what if the reader still wore their uniform? Like the uniform that they use to go to school? Like a PE uniform or still the normal Monday to Thursday uniform.

And then while they wore their uniform, they still had their ID ( assuming that they have one ) and their bag.

..and I'm silently hoping that none of them would go through-- alright i just jinxed it didn't i.

Hmm I had to think about this one.

Because I for one never had to deal with wearing a uniform when going to school. And I’m assuming since Reader has a school uniform then they probably went to a private school of some kind.

So I’m gonna assume Reader’s uniform is the typical white button down shirt, vest, blazer, and a pair of nice pants, white socks, nice shoes.

And as you said they’d have their student ID (most likely on a lanyard of some kind) and their school bag that definitely has their textbooks, notebooks, laptop in it.

Aka all things that probably aren’t built to really be running around a forest/over land with.

So when the Reader meets the Chain things are probably gonna be a little weird.

Given how Reader is dressed the Chain’s going to be quite curious about Reader. They wouldn’t have seen clothes such as theirs before.

Likewise Reader is thinking they’ve somehow been throw into a Ren fair or something.

Their first meeting would probably go something like:

“What are you wearing?”

“What are you wearing?”

After things get explained and everyone gets over their internal panic (aka mainly Reader, bestie is NOT gonna be sound of mind for a few days while dealing with everything) I feel like Sky and Warriors would be the most understanding of Reader going to school and wearing a uniform.

Y’know since Sky went to the Knight academy and Warriors I’m sure went to some form of a Knight academy too (I’ve really gotta check out a play through of his game). And in then they probably had to deal with wearing the academy uniforms.

Every member of the Chain would find the modern school system really interesting, but many would point out the impracticality of Reader clothes 😂

“How are you supposed to fight or travel great distances in this?”

“You don’t. I’m only supposed to travel the length to my classes and pray to god it doesn’t rip because this shit’s expensive.”

The Chain be baffled. These clothes are expensive!? They aren’t even magical!

And we haven’t even gotten to what’s in Reader’s bag.

Y’all ever seen Lord of The Rings with Gollum and the one ring? His precious? Yeah, that’s Reader with their bag.

Their textbooks? Fricken expensive, Reader isn’t gonna lose them to some stupid pig demon because the dude got a little stabby.

Their laptop? Over Reader’s cold dead body. You know expensive that is? Not to mention all the essays and homework they have on it.

Their notebooks? Those are filled to the brim with notes and things they need to know for upcoming tests. Handwritten notes that Reader has had to scramble to write down because the professors flips through the slides so fast.

Yeah, Reader is gonna go ape shit on ANYONE or ANYTHING that gets near their stuff.

Needles to say if the Chain is curious about anything of Reader’s they’ve got to have Reader’s supervision when looking at things.

Reader is like a hawk with their possessions. If they had to bring their stuff with them, they’re sleeping with that stuff tucked into their arms like they’re cuddling a giant teddy bear.

Their uniform has been neatly put into a separate bag (because let’s be honest, their uniform isn’t made for the Links’s worlds and Reader isn’t going to want to get it dirty or ripped).

Over time Reader would probably trust Legend the most with their stuff. And sad to say, but they’d probably trust Wild and Wind the least.

“I can look after your stuff too [Name]!”

“Wild I just watched you break that sword and shield.”

“I was fighting bokoblins! It was bound to break!”

“It was a new sword and you broke it cause you slipped and smashed it against a rock.”

“… well that one wasn’t technically my fault. Technically it was the rock that broke it.”

“… you broke your shield by shield surfing over a spikey rock that I warned you about.”

“…”

[danceswithsporks]

Warm- Part 5

Part 1 of 6 in the Complete Series!

Parts 1 2 3 4

Tech x Reader

Warnings: Assault, implied attempted r*pe, this one’s gonna hit a bit hard. I’m sorry in advance and if you’d like to know what happens without reading this part let me know and I’ll cliff notes ya. 🖤

Authors notes: Ok so besides the warnings, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of retconning going on. I just…don’t like allllll of our fav clones being dead or MIA. Also, there are some decisions I had to make that we don’t have canon information on. If that gets changed anytime soon I’ll update this part with the new information.

Luke warm, the temperature of the cup of tea that sat unattended on the counter. The owner was now on his way to the next stop of his journey to freedom. With a happy sigh, you pick the cup up and dump it into the sink behind you. You’d lost count of how many clones you’d helped at this point. It made you happy to know they were all off to hopefully better lives away from the empire. Off to families of their own. Actual homes with normal jobs where their lives weren’t put on the lines all the time.

Zeffos wasn’t the first stop on their journey, more like the third. Here they would get new identities and chain codes. They’d be set up with some money and clothing and moved through the underground tunnels of Ord Mantell. You helped them however you could as they waited for the next leg of their journey. From changing their hair, teaching them about colored contacts, and giving them a place to stay.

Phee had bought the entire building for a fair price and in turn, you’d completely renovated the three floors above the shop. Different apartments with emergency exits were available to any on the Path in need. While your shop mainly focused on helping clones on the run, you’d had a family with a young force user stay with you just a week ago. You’d never believed the whole ‘Jedi were the real traitors’ thing that had been blasted across the Galaxy. You’d seen firsthand how much they cared about the public and the clones. It just never made sense to you.

When Phee approached you about helping those in need escape the Empire, you didn’t hesitate. Now you were two months deep into being a part of…well the resistance. It was going on six months since Tech's death and while you still had moments where your heart ached for him to walk through the doorway, you were surviving. Dreams of him still filled your sleep every night, but instead of waking up in tears, you woke up with a soft smile. In a way, it was like he was rewarding you from the afterlife. Letting you know that he was proud of the hard work you were doing to help his brothers. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Wolffe just contacted me. Slips on his way to the next leg.” Echo moved across the space behind the bar and next to you. “Ya did well today. Know that one wasn’t easy.” He watched as your fingers stilled against the teacup. “Wanna talk about it?”

“You guys helped him survive an assassination attempt. He talked a lot about helping Tech figure out the access codes to prove Kamino was an inside job.” You shrugged carefully as you placed the cup into the dryer. “Wasn't hard to hear about Tech before Pabu. It was when he asked where Tech was.” A lump formed in your throat for a moment before you cleared it away. “Don’t worry. I filled him in.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. You could have asked one of us to do it.” He was impressed with how you’d been handling yourself in all of this. But every once in a while, he’d see your lip tremble for a moment.

A sigh left your lips as you pulled on your leather jacket over Tech's shirt. “I’m a big girl. I can handle telling people he’s dead. Thanks though.” You didn’t mean for it to come out so sharp, but you also kind of did. “Looks like we’re out of some stuff I need for tonight’s dinner. I’m heading to the market.”

Echo only nodded as he watched you pull your satchel over your shoulder. “ I’ll have WA-7 keep an eye on the place. Gotta work on some more chain codes.” Using the program he and Tech had developed. Echo missed his brother more than most. At times he felt like Fives had sent Tech his way as if knowing he needed that second half. Fives…Tech…felt like he always lost brothers that became too close to him.

“Sounds good. Have her clean around the bar, think someone spilled some milk. Don’t need more pests.” You heard Echo agree as you walked out the door and into the dim alley outside your shop. Even with the new streetlights you’d had installed, the alley was still too dark for your comfort. You checked your boot for the Vibroblade that Crosshair had given you and once satisfied that it was there, you made your way to the grocery stalls.

As it stood you had three extra clones staying in the building. They had been higher-level clone captains and commanders. As such they were heavily wanted by the Empire which meant it took longer for the heat to die down. Someone named Quinlan Vos was supposed to be securing a safe route out for them, but that seemed to be taking more time than you’d expected. Which meant you had three more mouths to feed on top of Echo, Howzer, Phee, and Kix, plus yourself.

A commotion near one of the gambling bars drew your attention and you casually made your way over. The crowd was massive and hard to see over, so instead you tapped the shoulder of the person in front of you. “What’s going on?”

The species turned to you and you realized that you didn’t recognize it, which meant you didn’t speak the language. They uttered unrecognizable words to you in a deep guttural tone as their tentacles waved around excitedly.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand.” You fumbled in your satchel for your datapad, hoping they at least wrote in Aurebesh.

The tentacle went up quickly to their throat and tapped at the translator device. After a moment of fizzing static, a computerized voice answered you. “Racer of Riot Pods Champion, Automan, has been spotted! Most believe death for his absence.” The translation wasn’t exactly perfect as their kind did not have words for the true name of the racer, nor did they possess the ability to make the necessary sounds required to say his name. But it would hopefully be enough to get the point across. Three yellow eyes watched the female before she made a face, uninterested. Confused? Who knew with humans?

“Oh, I don’t know anything about Riot Racing, or Pod racing for that matter. But thank you for the information.” You nodded carefully to the species before you and watched as they returned the gesture with an odd smile. Maker, you really hoped you didn’t just agree to marry them or something. When they turned from you and back to the crowd you took that as a sign that you were in fact safe from an accidental engagement.

-*-

“Excuse me? Can I get a cup of tea? Anything you’d recommend?” John sat at the bar of the comfortably lit tea shop Gonzo had found. He wasn’t sure exactly what kind of tea he was looking for, but hopefully something would jog his memory. The last two months had been spent in preparation for this trip. Research on Ord Mantell City and its many shops. Research on how to safely leave Eriadu and not draw attention to the village.

“This is a one-way trip, John. We can’t go with ya. Can’t risk too many ships goin in and out. We’ve stayed out of the Empire way this long.” Gonzo had handed him a satchel with supplies to survive on his own for a while. A decent amount of credits had even been placed in the bag. “Entire village chipped in. Ya find your family, John.”

John watched as the droid in front of him shook her head awkwardly. “I am not programmed to recommend beverages. Please make a request from our menu.” With a clatter, a menu was placed in front of him before the droid moved away to help another patron.

Tanned fingers moved across the datapad as something pulled at his mind. These were…familiar. The design was something he’d seen before. John groaned softly as his head began to ache. Flashes of distant memories clawed their way to the front of his mind. A woman smiling at him as she worked on the menu. A cup of tea next to her leg as she sat on…something. He couldn’t make it out. John closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to focus.

“Be better if ya came back when the lady of the shop is here.” A stranger at the end of the bar spoke carefully to the newcomer. Seemed the man was suffering from some kind of head problem. “She’s a smart one. Always knows exactly what ya need.”

“Not too bad on the eyes either.” Another voice echoed from across the room.

“Not too bad?” The man at the bar scoffed loudly before looking back at the newcomer. “She’s positively a goddess. Ya wait around long enough and you’ll see.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” John wasn’t sure who this woman was, but if she was good at recommending tea then hopefully she could help him.

“Stepped out to get some supplies for the shop. Said she’ll be back in a bit. She’s never gone for more than an hour.” A regular from a table in the corner spoke to the mysterious new man.

John made a face for a moment before standing. “Think I’ll come back later then.”

“Suit ya self.”

-*-

Your trip to the stalls had been eventful as always. There always seemed to be something new popping up and you’d managed to grab some lovely fish that came from Naboo. Or so they said. During your time here you’d quickly learned to take what some people said with a grain of salt. The only thing you knew for sure was that the Mantell mix that Wrecker and Omega were oh so very fond of, was indeed delicious.

It was at said stall that you heard something that almost made you drop your bag of groceries.

“Did you hear? That Riot Racing champ was seen here in the city!”

“That cute one? What was his name again? It was so plain.”

“Started with a T. Tom? Tim? Tech?”

You stared at the Mantell Mix stall owner as the voices became harder to hear. Couldn’t be him. They had to be confused. A lot of names sounded like Tech…right?

“Here ya go, firecracker. Ya sure ya don’t need help?” The stall master watched as you came out of whatever daze you were in. When you shook your head, he nodded before passing you an extra container of mix. “Send that to my favorite customers. Miss seeing them around.”

“Will do, Thanks.” You grabbed your supplies and began to head back toward the shop. Usually, you rushed, your feet naturally moving quickly. Today you decided to take your time for once. Take in the streets lined with stalls, the children running around, and the magnificent smells of fresh spices and herbs. You allowed your mind to drift, to think about what life would have been like if Tech had survived.

He would have come back to Pabu, probably with a new cut or bruise. He wouldn’t run to you and scoop you up as they did in the holovids. That wasn’t like him. He’d be the last of the ship, and would say something along the lines of “I needed to make sure this part of the ship had settled properly.” Something like that, you weren’t good with ships. But you’d smile and tell him it was ok and then you’d lead him down to the sea wall. Together you’d sit on top and watch the waves roll in as he told you about their adventure. Not sparing a single detail. His hand would find its way wrapped around yours and then he’d kiss you softly.

You’d fall into a happy rhythm with each other, like before. But now you were something more than friends, a couple. He’d hold your hand at every chance he could. There was no doubt that he loved to touch you, to hold a part of you, or be as close as possible. Your warmth and happiness were all he’d need to get through the day. Every day you’d sit on the sea wall together and watch the sunset and every night he’d say the same thing to you before you’d part ways. “ I hope I did not offend you.”

In which you’d smile and rest your head against his shoulder as your eyes closed. A hun would leave your lips as you enjoyed the warmth of him being near you. With a gentle whisper, you’d tell him in a teasing tone. “ You could never offend me.”

-*-

John wasn’t sure what he was looking for as he wandered the damp streets and alleys of Ord Mantell. Maybe someone would recognize him? Or maybe a familiar scent would find its way into his nose and he’d remember something useful. Perhaps a familiar sound would trigger something? Whatever it was, he hoped it would come soon.

All of these alleys looked the same and he was sure he was lost. That dumpster looked familiar from earlier, or did it? This area was a maze and down each alley, there seemed to be countless illicit activities going on. A spice dealer down this one, a worker of the night down another. It was all more than he’d expected to deal with. He just needed to find the right one back to that tea shop.

-*-

“Now look who it is. Little miss too good for a Trandoshan.” A large figure loomed over you as you stood outside the back entrance to your shop. WA-7 must have locked the damned thing again and your hands were too full to enter your code. It was high time you updated her to stop that. His large hand rested against the door behind you preventing it from opening.

“Fang. Seems your last fight with Wrecker didn’t teach you anything. Leave me alone.” You adjusted your container of groceries and tried to slip under his arm but found the items thrown to the ground instead.

“There’s a difference now. He ain’t here. Saw him leave the planet three days ago.” Fang licked his mouth sickeningly as he looked down at you. Such a frail thing, you’d be a fun toy to play with.

You scoffed loudly as you began to slide down towards the ground, your hand slipping towards your boot and your weapon within. “Doesn’t mean I’m not able to protect myself from someone as ugly as you.” Just a little bit farther and you’d have your vibroblade.

Stars, he loved how you put up a fight. Reaching down he grabbed your chin and easily lifted you back up. “That big mouth of yours is gonna get ya in trouble, human..” Growling deeply he pressed against your body and chuckled darkly. “Perhaps you should put it to better use.”

“Gag! As if!” Swinging your leg, you aimed for his crotch but found resistance instead.

“After your little stunt last time, I came prepared.” His other hand moved away from the door and gripped your side tightly. “Now stop resisting and just enjoy yourself.”

A scream escaped your lips as you fought his hold. Your fists swung down on his shoulders in hopes of breaking free somehow. Wrecker and Hunter had insisted on teaching you self defense, you should have accepted their offer. You felt his hand cover your mouth in an attempt to silence you. But that instead worked in your favor and allowed you to bite down firmly against him.

With a growl, Fang dropped you to the ground. Crumbling against the wet cold pavement, you feigned curling into a ball to protect yourself. The movement hid you pulling your vibro blade out.

“Stupid Bitch!” Fang swung his thick leg into your side forcing your body towards the wall. A smirk crossed his scaled lips as he approached you. Awake or unconscious, it didn’t matter to him, he’d take you either way.

You heard his large foot take its place next to your head before the feeling of your hair being pulled ripped through your body. Another scream left your lips as he lifted you. Like hell, you’d go down without a fight. Swinging the blade quickly you felt it make contact with his thigh. You were dropped to the ground with a thud and you listened as a growl of pain left him. Good.

Fang stumbled back as his leg began to bleed. Fucking human bitch, he’d kill you first then screw your corpse. It didn’t matter to him anymore. In front of him, you scrambled to stand and make your way to safety.

Turning your back towards him had been your biggest mistake. A large hand gripped the back of your neck and with just barely enough time to throw your arms up, your head was thrown into the wall. A gasp was ripped from your body as pain and something wet clouded your vision.

“Gonna teach ya a lesson,” Fang smirked as he used his foot to shove you into the wall. “Don’t know why my brothers claim human count is the best. You’re too much damn work.” Kneeling behind you, his hand wrapped around your throat tightly. “Better be fucking wor-“

His words were replaced with the sound of electricity followed by a thud. You couldn’t make anything out as you scrambled to turn around. Whatever was on your face had completely blocked your view. “S-stay back.” Your hand scrambled across the wet pavement for your vibroblade. It had to be here somewhere.

Something…familiar, gripped your hand carefully and placed your bald back into your hand. Quickly you wrapped both hands around it and raised it in whatever direction you thought the other person was in.

“It’s ok, miss. I won’t hurt ya.” John kept a safe distance from you but also tried to reassure you he wasn’t going to attack you. He’d stopped for directions to the tea shop and on his way in the right direction, he heard your screams and acted on an instinct he didn’t know had.

Your heart stopped at the sound of his voice. A voice that you’d heard so many times from so many faces but was also so painfully unique. This day hadn’t been fair to you, first, you’d heard his name more times than you’d wanted to, and now? Now you could swear that was his voice. Maybe you’d been working too hard? Or maybe you’d fallen asleep to his audio logs one too many times. Whatever this was, it was a cruel game being played on you by the universe. “W-what happened? Who are you?” It wasn’t him, you knew it wasn’t. The way he spoke wasn't how Tech used to. Whatever hope was building inside you was squashed with that singular thought.

“Names John. I tasered your attacker.” At least he hoped he was your attacker or else you two were into some interesting role-play. “Can’t say how long he’ll be down though. We should probably get moving.” Carefully he placed his hand on top of yours and lowered them to the ground. “Promise I won’t hurt ya.”

You chewed your lip for a moment, the taste of copper exploding in your mouth as you did so. Blood was what was running down your face. This was a gamble you’d have to take. “Shop behind us is mine.” You hissed as you tried to stand, it felt like a rib was broken. Maybe two. You blinked a few times trying to clear your vision, but failing in the process.

John moved quickly to help you stand, still trying to keep a safe distance from your blade. “Here, let me help ya.” When you nodded, he moved in front of you and went to grab your elbows, instead his hand missed and brushed across your breasts. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Leave it to man to try and cop a feel. A scoff came from your lips as she tried to find the hem of your shirt that was dry. Step one was to clear your eyes, step two was to slap whoever this was. But then he said something that made a lump form in your throat.

“Sorry if I offended you.”

No, it couldn’t actually be him. Your hand scrambled against the wall trying to find the panel for your door. New plan, get inside, clean your eyes, and if it is Tech. Kill him.

“Here. Let me help.” John paused as he looked at the panel. “Sorry to ask this but what’s your code.”

Your hands paused against the wall, changing the code was easy, but saying it out loud was hard. Swallowing, you pushed the lump down and allowed the words to come out. “ 9902”

John’s hand froze over the panel as something else pulled at his mind. That code was…familiar. Tapping in the code, John carefully maneuvered you into the back room of your shop before closing and locking the door. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Main Kitchen. Top shelf near the dried fruits, three to the right in a brilliant blue box marked five zero one.” A gift from Kix after Echo and the others had saved him from the Obrexta III.

“From what the boys have told me, you're a bit of a clutz. Probably good to have this on hand.” He’d passed it to you with a wink and a smile.

John moved you to the main kitchen carefully before helping you sit on the counter. “I’ll be right back.” Then he was off, into your kitchen to find the familiar-sounding box. Everywhere he looked he could see containers of tea leaves, fruits, and herbs. A marked container of dried berries let him know he was close.

“Mistress? You are currently bleeding from your right eyebrow. I recommend immediate medical action.” WA-7 loudly made her way over to you.

“Obviously, WA! Do me a favor and go get Echo. Quietly please.” The sound of a box scraping across the ground let you know she had turned.

WA-7 tilted her head at you for a moment before turning and making her way toward the office. “Of course mistress.”

“She goin' to get help?” John had found the kit and was now making his way back to you. It was a surprisingly heavy kit and with just a quick glance, he’d seen it was filled to the brim with supplies. It seemed like a lot for a simple tea shop. But who was he to judge?

A long sigh came from you as you heard the kit placed down. “Yeah. Trust me. She’s more useful doing that than helping us.” The sound of water turning on, hit your ears. Hopefully, that meant he was getting you something to clean your eyes.

“Not a fan of droids?” John carefully took your hand in his and placed the warm towel. Behind him, the water continued to run. “Let me know if ya need that rinsed.”

The hot water on the rag cut through the blood on your eyes easily. “Not that droid.” Two swipes and you felt your left eye becoming easier to open. “She’s more useless than anything. Can’t even begin to count how much time I spent trying to reprogram her.”

“You know how to program droids?” The cloth was passed back to him and John carefully rinsed it into the sink. The water ran red for a bit as he waited for you to answer.

“Kinda, my…” What had Tech been to you? Your lover? No, you’d never slept together and had only just kissed before he left. Your teacher? It felt like it was obviously more than that. “My…friend was teaching me before he died.”

John paused as he began to pass the cloth back to you. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Was that the right thing to say?

“Thanks.” Was all you could seem to say as you heard hurried boots coming towards the kitchen. The cloth ran across your eyes once more and finally, you could open them.

The moment Echo had heard you were bleeding, he was gone. The comm he’d been on with Rex remained open as he left the room and tried to figure out how you’d been hurt. Turning into the kitchen his feet stopped as he took in a man taller than you. A mess of brown curls hung to his ears and his slim form carefully moved to the side to reveal you on the counter. Who the hell was this?

John heard the sound of someone approaching and he figured it was one of your employees. Turning to introduce himself he heard a gasp from behind him.

You and Echo spoke in unison as the face of your helper was finally clear to see.

“Tech?”

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[pumpumdemsugah]

How did you stop being shy and how old were you? I think you mentioned being shy in the past. I’m 22 and I recently started a job after graduating uni and I feel like my shyness has gotten worse. It’s something I’ve had to work on for many years so it’s super disheartening lol. I wish I could do so many things, but I’m so scared all the time!!!

Hi!!

I used to be shy. I think it's helpful to see social skills like a muscle. Some people are the social equivalent being naturally fast and strong but everyone can get faster and stronger : ) I feel like around age 17 to 20 I wasn't shy anymore. I was still odd at 17 but I was social , around 20 I was fearless

I started working on it around age 13/14 and didnt have the internet to research anything. I got tired of being marked absent because the teachers couldn't hear my voice lol so my first task to myself was to speak louder for the register. I'd find small things like that, that I did everyday to work on. Sometimes I push my pen or pencil off my table to force myself to feel comfortable getting up out of my seat , standing up and picking up my pen. Genuinely had to teach myself how to stand up normal style lol and it worked That helped me feel less watched because It didn't feel unsafe to do anymore. You can break down whatever you want to improve into the smallest chunks. I would sometimes ask to use the toilet to practice walking up and in front of my class without feeling nervous. If I was feeling like a daredevil I'd stand up, walk up to the teacher desk and ask. Id make sure not to walk too fast before I walk into shit, no slouching and relax my arms at the side of my body. Even now, if I feel nervous I run through this so my body is relaxed so my brain is relaxed.

If I found myself starting to get nervous, I'd find a reason to go to the toilet or walk somewhere so I didn't help like I was stuck in X place. It helps to make places not feel like it's out of bounds. For me, noticing when I'd start to feel nervous and soothing myself then instead of letting that feeling get so giant I feel out of my dept helped. Generally that's a good thing to practice shy or not. At my current job I turned down going to lunch with my coworkers because it was loud as hell and I told them " sorry it's too loud and It's going to make my head feel like mashed potatoes" and they laughed, one agreed " yeah it's very loud" and they left. I said that to them because it was true lol, I didn't sleep and noise would send me over the edge. Being honest about why I don't want to do something in a light way was something I found out early on I'm very comfortable with saying

Ohh this got long lol

If I found myself getting nervous I'd force myself to fix my posture and stretch. My main thing was, learning to feel comfortable existing in my body in a space and the few times I spoke, speaking loud enough. Also I'd observe the things I didn't feel anxious or dumb doing, and volunteer as much as possible doing those things hoping the skills I learned there would leak. I loved PE so I'd let myself go for it with PE and that's helped me feel more settled in my body.

It helps to wear comfortable clothes and practice things you might want to say to someone or questions you think someone will ask you. Sometimes having something to play with to direct my nervous energy helped so rubber bands around my wrist, a tag in my pocket etc

The great thing about work is it's a nice structured environment you go to all the time ( like school) where you can find little challenges to give yourself to do everyday. It gives you a clear benchmark where you can feel proud X is easier for you. Every little victory helps

Learning to not be embarrassed or at least let on I was embarrassed when I made a mistake. Even if I knew I'd think about it for days, Id force myself to give a short simple answer and to remember to breathe slowly. It's worth coming up with a plan for when you feel anxious and what you will do to soothe yourself to build up your tolerance for being uncomfortable and the more you do that then things that were uncomfortable becomes like nothing

I worked on tolerance building, soothing strategies and a couple of responses and questions I could ask. I think I learned to hold a conversation in my late teens lol it didn't occur to me that people are generally sort of curious, even about very boring shit.

Also, figuring out how to let someone leave a conversation or how you can leave a conversation. When I didn't know how to talk to someone and I realised my nervousness was killing the vibe, I worked on some things I could say to let people leave a convo or leaving the convo myself

I sort of figured alot of this out through trail and error. I was running field experiments and I was the experiment lol. Seeing it like that made it mentally easier to deal with. It was easier to accept, that thing I thought would work didn't than telling myself off for being bad at talking to others. It felt removed from a personal judgement of me which helped me feel less embarrassed when I was being weird. Sometimes even if you're struggling with being in a situation, just finding somewhere to sit and exist there without feeling uncomfortable is an important thing to practise while you slowly learn to talk to people. Always give yourself options so you don't feel like a trapped animal in really hard social situations

It's worth paying attention to what people say and what questions very outgoing people ask to understand what makes a nice convo, it's often very similar questions until people find a nice sweet spot and things just flow because they hit a shared interest and even if that doesn't happen, small talk is nice. Learning to love dumb pointless yapping about the weather is a great thing to practice. The elderly love a chat, go to your local library and talk to an old person lol

There are channels on YouTube about learning to talk to people but you will run into manosphere content tho and I think it helps to build up your tolerance for discomfort and embarrassment first. Small discomfort and embarrassment first. No need to overwhelm yourself.

Not all convos will be good. Some will be short and sometimes you don't feel like talking. You don't get graded for saying weird freak shit to people lol and people will still talk to you again if you say something very dumb

[yunarim]

ಇ. broken melodies | chapter 2

⇢ ⁺ THE SLIGHTLY CHIPPED FULL MOON ˖ Yuu realizes that Neige has something in common with Snow White and gets alarmed.

— PREVIEW (read for tags and synopsis) — MASTERLIST (open to read previous chapters) — AO3 ⁺ w.c : 12k+ this chapter contains mild usage of obscene language !

A sportswear designed for RSA remained in blue-and-white color scheme with a few additions of golden shades here and there. In contrast to the school uniform with dark blue trousers she wore yesterday, the sports outfit did a flip between top and bottom of the outfit, the pants being white with golden stripes and the t-shirt was dark blue this time, leaving a white jacket remaining optional. Yuu preferred the jacket being pulled on at first, but then, leaving Ambrose’s office and spotting Luan wearing it tied around the waist, she followed his example, tying it around a bit clumsily. She wasn’t really familiar with how it should look, always under the impression all the clothes she wears should look neatly on her, never leaving a room for a leisurely touch Luan seemed to possess.

She was called to the headmaster’s office early in the morning because of two reasons: to get her sports uniform and to get notified that the clock tower’s keeper would come and check it today. Ambrose, though ever so thoughtful and cordial, didn’t mention what the keeper is like. Yuu didn’t even notice herself she was quite attached to creating little scenarios in her head, and, following this habit, she still seemed unaware to imagining their meeting going from normal (meaning she won’t get kicked out of here, that would be normal from her perspective) to extreme (where she not only get kicked out but also get identity revealed and—).

In any case, Yuu spotted Luan and waved to him, corners of her lips rising slightly. A warm aura 

around him made her wash off the worries for some time, and when Luan reciprocated the smile she pulled, Yuu greeted him politely.

“Good morning, Luan,” Yuu caught up with him and they moved towards the sports ground.

“Morning…” Luan yawned and Yuu saw cute little fangs he clicked right after closing his mouth. The hair on his head resembled a bird's nest, he rubbed his eyes with his fists and made an intensified attempt to open his eyelids with his fingers, sighing heavily.

Her smile widened, seeing him being so effortlessly adorable, and returned her gaze to the hall. 

“Not a morning person?”

“Meh,” he shrugged. “Not that early morning, ‘kay? How in the world do you get up so early?”

“Mornings are magnificent,” Yuu started as they walked out of the main building. “The way sun rays feel on the skin resembles taking a bath with liquified gold…”

“Woah chill,” Luan said, astonished in a way with her highfalutin epithets. “It’s literally just morning. A good one though, since we’ve got a PE as a first class today, given I already overslept and missed the training with my personal trainer… Ugh.”

“Trainer?” Yuu repeated, but Luan just hummed mysteriously, nodding to her words. 

“Uh-huh, he’s a toughie. Reasonable tho, you would like him too. Not to mention I highly recommend you to exercise from time to time.”

“That’s why you look so sporty,” Yuu noticed, her gaze sliding down his hands, average for a boy his age and yet quite muscular if tensed. 

“You bet!” Luan’s beaming smile made Yuu giggle. “Even though you look like you might crumble just by a wind blowing. Seriously, are all of the Valley of Thorns girls that thin?”

“Valley of Thorns?..” Yuu repeated weakly when she noticed there were fewer people than in the main building. 

“Not from there? You just have to see Dawnshine Savannah women one day. Hope you won’t get a cultural shock or something.”

Yuu’s head was about to spin with all the new information received. Apparently those were the names of the continents? Countries?.. Yuu wasn’t sure if she should have pushed it further to get to know more without looking suspiciously, so she just chuckled and then suddenly gasped as they entered the sports field.

The sports field was not something as grand as the main building, however, a huge forest looming before her eyes with a carpet of fresh greens lined on it and a forest stretching in the distance fascinated with its beauty.

The air was so hot that Yuu could see it melting into inert, lazy waves, and while Yuu didn't like hot weather, she wondered what PE had in store for her.

She observed the territory, noticing new faces she hadn't seen yesterday, which was a bit strange, given their class was all present (when Luan finally came in the middle of the day), and as for now, Yuu saw unfamiliar individuals, wondering what was the deal. 

“Hm,” Luan said. “Guess we’re having joint classes today.”

“Joint?” She echoed.

“Yea, like, some of these people are second years. I don’t know why we’re having classes today with them, but who actually cares, right? It’s fine as long as it's fun.”

“I believe you’re right,” she agreed, not really following the concept of school as a whole, but accepting nevertheless. Moreover, Luan was definitely right about one thing — she hoped it would be fun.

Yuu talked with Luan for some time before a teacher finally made an appearance. Yuu felt how a gentle breeze came with him, tickling her nostrils and carrying a fresh aroma of green tea leaves, making her mind settle for a moment. Luan caught up with her, following her gaze when she looked somewhere near the gate, and noticed a new arrival.

“Oi, xiaohaizi! Good morning!”

Yuu gasped in amusement when the teacher summoned a broom, jumping on it and rising straight in the air, making a flip around his axis, and flying straight to the group of students gathered in the centre of the field. His long pitch-black hair was tied up with a red ribbon in a high ponytail. Yuu, following her inner beaming inquisitiveness, couldn’t tear her glare off his clothes, which reminded her of hanfu. His eyes of charcoal were slightly laughing at her unconcealed pry, and his child-like, almost pure features created an impression he was quite young.

He didn’t say anything about her curious mind, letting it be, and jumped off the broom he was riding, his hair cascading shoulders beautifully, resembling sea waves gently embracing a shore. 

“First of all, sorry for today’s inconsistency in the curriculum. You might have noticed there’s two classes today,” he said, fixing an unamenable strand of his hair and tacking it behind his ear. “It was overlapping, so we decided it would be best to just let it be. Second years, you’ll have lessons according to the schedule next week, okay?”

Nods of understanding and little ‘okay’s were heard here and there as a response to his words.

“Well then, good,” he nodded, smiling slightly. “Now first years! Let me introduce myself. Come a bit closer, hm?”

Everyone did as he said, and right after Yuu noticed how first years outnumbered second ones, but quickly returned all her attention to the teacher.

“My name’s Xiao Qian. I’m your PE teacher, but we will meet during social sciences classes as well. Let’s get along!”

Yuu bowed politely out of habit, when others just remained silent or at least nodded, and stared back at Qian who found her reaction quite amusing. 

“Where I’m from we appreciate those gestures of politeness,” Qian addressed to her, replying with a little bow as well, releasing Yuu’s nervousness. “Well then, let’s begin the lesson!”

Qian arranged the students in several rows. Yuu ended up in the first one on the left side, separated from Luan, who was standing at the very end on the right side. He winked at her as she hurriedly turned her gaze to him, and she smiled back, returning to stretching exercises.

Qian, who spoke to everyone in an absurdly friendly tone just a couple of minutes ago, turned out to be a rather serious teacher, whose gaze became stronger, if not even more severe. He carefully glided over each student, noticing the slightest movements, and alternately indicated which exercise was not performed accurately enough.

“Now off to the flying part,” Qian said, nodding when everyone finished stretching, ignoring heavy sighs of exhaustion, mostly let out due exaggeration. “Second years, I’m starting with you. First years, watch them closely.”

Yuu watched as a group of nearly 20 students came closer, making a row. She noticed how drastic the difference was between them and the second years, whose bodies looked obviously stronger, their eyes clearly beaming with a huge amount of experience. She was ready to peer into their movements with respect, extract something for herself, becoming a sponge, absorbing knowledge, but suddenly noticed one young man, slightly out of the crowd.

His pale coral hair, reminiscing sweet meringue, shone in light waves of curls under the bright sun, revealing the gradient of his locks, and light pink, weightless, almost transparent tips framed his delicate pale neck.

Yuu felt as if an otherworldly force caused her to peer into his eyes, riveting her gaze to his long eyelashes. His huge eyes, carved from two aquamarine crystals, endowed him with innocence, and his slightly parted plump lips as well as hummingbird-flutter of his eyelashes betrayed him, revealing his frustration. A fresh scent of salty sea waves embraced his only presence, putting Yuu’s mind at ease instantly. 

Yuu felt something wasn’t right with how otherworldly he looked, which was fun and absurd for her to point that out subconsciously. 

As other students demonstrated their skills, this boy nodded to the teacher and took the broom, taking a deep breath. He grabbed the broom, giving Yuu an impression he would break it with how strong his grip was, but he closed his eyes. Two seconds after, he flew the broom a couple of meters into the air, crossing his legs around the base of the broom, and glanced at the teacher, who smiled approvingly at him.

“That was a nice one,” Qian said when the boy came back to the ground, and thanked him. Yuu shivered at how sweet and gentle his voice sounded. 

She followed him with her curious gaze and parted lips slightly when she noticed a little tremble covering his legs.

Serene voice of pureness, huge spellbinding eyes and trembling legs?.. Think harder, Yuu said to herself quietly when it was their turn to practice broom-riding. Her gaze lingered on the boy, a scent of sea foam and salt was radiating stronger now that she noticed, and when he turned, his eyes met her own, wide and full of realization, to which the boy tilted his head curiously. 

“Ah!” She gasped, drawing the attention of those standing at her left and right, and quickly covered her mouth with hands. 

“Something the matter?” Qian asked, but she shook her head from side to side.

Actually, there was. All those features he possessed reminded her of merfolk she met in Ariel’s realm once or twice when she was far younger. Yuu was fairly hesitant to make an assumption based on just those little features, but, unaware of her own current place in the world she happened to enter, it tempted her to find out. 

As much as curious and eager to grasp the information she was, it would be unwise to do as she pleased, especially taking into consideration she didn’t know the boy. Her surroundings, this school, the people here, her own situation—all those appeared to be unanswered questions, and Yuu wasn’t sure if there was a way to figure out if she could receive answers at all. 

The boy did an enormously great job to conceal his trembling limbs, with how everyone seemed to not care at all. Maybe they knew, indeed, and yet they didn’t seem like it was the case, so there was a possibility the boy was trying to hide how hard it was to just stand with those legs on land, mention of flights remaining unnecessary. Yuu admired him for that, but before she could push her thoughts any further, teacher Qian asked her to try riding a broom.

And that was another issue to be solved. Yuu chuckled nervously, taking a broom from the teacher's hands, carefully observing it. 

“Have you ever tried flying before?” Qian asked, withdrawing a fan from his huge loose sleeve, and covered half of his face with it. 

As a matter of flying, yes, Yuu definitely has tried. Not to mention, she was outstandingly skillful with her flying abilities, but riding a broom? Fairy Godmother hadn’t taught her that, and why would she? There was no particular use in brooms in the first place, so she had no idea how it should have been done.

“... No,” she answered in the end.

“That’s okay,” Qian answered, closing his eyes for a moment. “Flying is a difficult matter. One can be an extremely talented magician but can’t ride a broom for life… Not under my watch though.”

He was right. As much as Yuu could fly, she wondered about broadening her horizons and widening knowledge she possessed. Moreover, she couldn’t fly long distances with her own magic, so broom-flying seemed fascinating enough to try.

“Alright then,” Qian looked strictly at Yuu. “No spell needed to ride a broom. Visualization is the key here. Imagine the broom flying, then put some wind magic in there to make it work. And always keep in mind that making a broom fly is not the main task here.”

“What is?” Yuu asked, making sure to remember all the processes he explained.

“Keeping your balance is,” Qian said. “Consider the streamlining of the broom you use, the way aerodynamic properties change depending on how you ride the broom and how strong wind currents are. Shifting your weight forward will bring the handle down and so make it descend, and also leaning forward and putting some weight in it will make you speed up and… Oh, I’m getting carried away. The main task for you for now is to keep your balance midair and to not fall. Try it. I don’t take ‘I can’t’ as an answer. There’s no option other than to do your best on the battlefield anyway.”

Yuu felt how heavy his last sentence was. Teacher Qian was speaking from experience and Yuu wasn’t sure if she was feeling to find out what kind of experience it was.

Yuu stared at the broom, arranging the information on the shelves of her mind. Technically it was the moment she would reveal her magic to everyone, but at the same time it was okay. The only thing remaining was to try finding out how exactly she needed to perform the right magic arrangements.

Qian mentioned wind magic. Even though Yuu’s magic did divide into elemental types, but it didn’t include wind. She took a deep breath, hurriedly trying to remember if there were any analogues of wind magic despite the flying spell itself, but Qian said it was all about visualization, not spells casting magic.

“I understand it’s your first time practicing, but please do hurry up,” Qian said.

“I’m sorry,” she replied.

He was right. If exposing her magic was dangerous to the point she would be handed out to the government, then trying to make a simile of wind magic could be postponed to the later. Yuu sighed and parted her lips slightly, deciding that for now she should just try combining two magic types together and relying on luck. She placed the broom almost in a horizontal position so she could sit on it, still holding the handle with her bare hands.

“Oh faila maira súrë, á ortëa ni ana the orwa fanyarë.” 

Yuu whispered so that no one could hear her, and recurrented wind flow to the broom, realizing she flew up slightly, her legs being on the same level as teacher Qian’s eyes. 

“Not bad for a rookie,” Qian noticed, smiling approvingly at her. “Try rising a bit.”

Yuu nodded, wondering how in the world did it work and how she remained steady. Still holding the handler tightly, she pointed it up, and the broom followed the direction she noted, making her rise almost half higher than before.

“Good, but you moved a bit further. That’s okay for the first try, but next time try adjusting it so you’ll go just vertically up, okay?”

“Yessir,” Yuu answered, pointing the handle down and going down, then jumping off the broom.

“I see you’re not afraid of heights,” Qian noticed. “Good job. You can come here after 4pm to practice if you want.”

“I appreciate your help,” Yuu said. 

The rest of the class went relatively in a calm manner, reminiscent of a lecture rather than a PE lesson. Qian added more details to how flights worked and then dismissed everyone. Yuu couldn’t manage to notice where Luan went, so she decided it would be okay for her to head out to the next class alone.

First she needed to change her clothes. Even though Ambrose said that it’s all arranged and she can be late for 5-10 minutes for the lessons because there were no places where she could change comfortably within school facilities, leaving the clock tower the only option remaining. Yuu appreciated the thoughtfulness, but decided she would never be late nevertheless, so she hurried back to the ‘dormitory’.

She quickly passed the forest she happened to enter yesterday where she met Neige. Memories flashed in her mind at once, bringing Yuu to recall the sad smile he wore that evening, wondering what could be the reason. Would he be okay with seeing her again?

Yuu never was a person to easily initiate a dialogue, let alone with a person who was apparently quite popular. Neige seemed like he didn’t want other people to know about that scene she appeared to become a part of. Yuu had no intention of telling anyone else—there was no person she could have anyway. And even so, Neige reminded her of a gentle light, leading a moth, that would be Yuu, to it, alluringly bewitching her and making her follow him. That was a fun, if not absurd comparison, given she was the one who possessed a ‘Butterflies’ friend’ title. 

Speaking of which, Yuu made sure no one was around and summoned a pink butterfly that eagerly greeted her, dancing around her face, and fluttered its wings in a joyful way.

“It’s nice to see you too, little one.”

Butterfly followed her to the clock tower, where Yuu summoned her magic wand and quickly changed her clothes with a magic touch, then made the wand disappear, and hurried back to the main building.

A tantalizing aroma of something sweet and baked tickled Yuu’s nose when the class ended and she went out of the auditorium, making her way to the cafeteria. 

Entering a familiar place, she allowed herself to stop for a second and enjoy the pleasant aroma of a pie filled with honey—it’s been a while since she last tried honey cake!—and hurried to gargoyles. 

“Good afternoon, Vittorio,” she greeted the gargoyle, smiling at him slightly. 

“Afternoon,” he confirmed. “Anything you’d like to try?”

“Ah, hmm…” Yuu observed today’s assortment and decided she’d go for avocado salad with cottage cheese as a main dish. “That one salad, please. And one slice of honey pie.”

“Coming right up,” Vittorio said, placing everything she ordered on the tray. “You should try the chamomile tea we’re serving today.”

“If it won’t be hard to serve for me, then I’d be glad to.”

“You sweet child,” Vittorio chuckled and poured hot water into the cup. “Drop the honorifics, kids here don’t use them nowadays. Here you go, enjoy your lunch!”

“Thank you very much!” Yuu ignored the ‘honorifics’ part and still bowed nevertheless, deciding where she should sit today.

She noticed the table she was occupying yesterday during lunch was already taken by someone else, as well as the majority of tables on the second floor. She frowned, trying to find another table for at least two with no one around, and succeeded — a table for three right next to the window. 

Yuu took a seat, enjoying the tea aroma floating in the air, and started consuming food, being quite impatient to try honey cake. She couldn’t be referred to as a sweet tooth, but sugary and honey flavors were still fairly tasty and could be enjoyed once in a while. 

Once Yuu finished the salad, she finally took a bite of honey pie, watching honey slowly flowing out of the cake, soaking the layer even more. She seemed to be out of the process for a moment, staring at the golden liquid absentmindedly, and immediately thought of Neige’s eyes. Would they remind her of honey under the sun rays, shining brightly? Or would his eyes, two precious agates, remain still with an elusive presence of loneliness? 

Yuu knitted the brows, sighing. He was so mysteriously enchanting, that Neige. Yuu hoped everything was alright, but a bitter feeling of something dubious was following her even now. How strange, indeed.

“Man, who would have thought that Neige would do another ad so soon.”

Yuu winced. For a second she thought that her thoughts had materialized out of nowhere and everyone could hear what she was thinking about so hard. She turned to her left, noticing a group of students taking the seats and discussing Neige, and as much as she valued privacy, it couldn’t be helped with how good and accurate her hearing was.

“You don’t say,” another student replied. “Dude’s amazing. No matter how hard we try, there’s no way we can reach his level.”

“To be able to study in the same academy as Neige…” Another boy added. “Sometimes I think I got too lucky.”

“Same here. I kinda think he’s unreachable.”

“Right?” The first to speak student nodded. “But imagine making so much money.”

“Must be funny in a rich man’s world,” a student answered, sighing dreamily. 

As far as Yuu remembered, it never was. People tended to be greedy in princesses’ worlds, but since she couldn’t grasp the main idea of money itself, she was as much from relating to these students talking. She has learnt it’s important to appreciate those who worked and earned money, other people’s effort and mentality for being that strong, but she also never worked for money herself. The word itself was vague and abstract to her, and when her Godmother told she should always pay back, it wasn’t necessarily money. Valuable things were far from just gold and banknotes, but what exactly?..

“Don’t you kinda think his play was overrated in the last movie though?”

Yuu’s ears twitched.

“Huh? Now that you said it… maybe it kinda was, yeah…”

“Doesn’t he like, always smiling and giggling here and there?”

“Hey, it’s not to that extent… Bet if they’d put you into it, you would resemble a robot.”

“Yeah, your acting is extremely lame dude, no offense.”

“Hey!!”

“Hey,”

Why… would they talk about him behind his back? Yuu frowned, drowning deeper in her thoughts. Neige was someone she saw once in her life, and even if he pulled an act during their first meeting, was he really such a hypocrite, yearning for money? Or was his play really that bad as they just said? No, she shouldn’t judge his character just by that and—

“Hey~”

“Oh?”

Yuu raised her gaze and saw Che’nya holding a tray with food with one hand, another one resting on his hip, his tail wiggling cheerfully. Yuu smiled a bit subconsciously, unaware of genuineness beaming from her. 

“Che’nya-san, good afternoon.”

“Good nyafternoon,” he grinned, taking a seat in front of her without asking, but Yuu didn’t seem to mind at all. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Just having a meal. What are you going to have, Che’nya-san?”

“Mmm~ Can’t you tell?”

Yuu threw a quick glance at his meal, recognizing fish in breadcrumbs and sour cream sauce in a small gravy boat. He resembled a real cat so much it was starting to be funny. 

“Fish,” she said. “I was expecting that at some point.”

“Right~” Che’nya consumed a small bite, chewing the food in a cute way as Yuu smiled at him adoringly. “How’s your day going?”

“Pretty much okay,” Yuu nodded, realizing she wasn’t uncomfortable sharing some information with him about herself. It felt good that he asked. “PE was fun.”

“Hmm~” Che’nya hummed mysteriously. 

He stopped talking for some time while eating as Yuu was watching people walking here and there, but when she returned her full attention to Che’nya and turned to him, she found him scrolling something with his finger on a strange device Yuu had no memory of. 

Asking Che’nya wasn’t the best decision. Was it something everyone had in the property? A small little box-shaped thing with purple stripes on its edges, plastic cat ears… Yuu was extremely curious. Is that… machinery?! Yuu felt her fingers trembling slightly in excitement. The box radiated slightly blue light and something Che’nya was looking at was running somewhere far away so fast that even Yuu’s vision couldn’t catch at least something. There was… text? Yes, it was some kind of text. But what exactly? And where did it go as Che’nya scrolled down?? 

Yuu watched closely, thinking the text Che’nya scrolled was coming out of the box, dissolving in the air while she didn’t see. But how? What kind of magic was it?

“O’nya~” Che’nya said, amused by her reaction and widened eyes. 

“C-che’nya-san,” Yuu stumbled, realizing she became too curious, and coughed. “Please don’t mind me.”

“Hm-hm~” He hummed, returning his glance to the thing Yuu thought was a box. “As you say.”

Yuu couldn’t follow Che’nya’s eyes fixing on her own, their roles switching, and now Yuu reminding him of a cat following a trembling sunbeam. And Che’nya didn’t seem to mind at all, quite enjoying her amusing reaction. 

“Oh,” Che’nya suddenly said, stopping his finger scrolling the pages (or what it was) as his smile dropped. 

“Is something the matter?” Yuu asked.

“Hm,” his eyes lost their sparkles for a moment. “I don’t like it…”

“Yes?..”

“Oi, Yuu! Hey!”

Yuu turned at a source of someone calling her name and spotted Luan at the entrance. She smiled at him when he approached their table, the aroma of freshly cooked meat and some herbs—she instantly recognized basil, green onion and a small hint of cilantro being mixed—lingered in the air as he bent down to look right into Yuu’s eyes. 

“Let’s eat together next time!” 

Yuu never realized his smile was that contagious until the corners of her own lips went up. It was the smile that couldn’t be concealed at all costs, Luan revealed his teeth and giggled softly, bright lapis of his eyes shining joyfully. 

“I don’t mind,” she said before thinking. “Even though you were the one to leave early today.”

“Damn, you’re right,” he gasped. Yuu wondered about the very first word he said, the ‘damn’ one. What was that?.. “Sorry ‘bout that. Oh.”

Luan finally spotted Che’nya glancing his way all this time and put his tray on the table before stretching out his hand. 

“I’m Luan!” He greeted his upperclassman. “And you?”

“Nya-ce to meet you, Luan. I’m Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. Che’nya for short~” He shook Luan’s hand, and Yuu noticed just now how strong his grip actually seemed. “Come sit.”

Luan followed his words and took a seat at Yuu’s right, still staring at the upperclassman. Apparently he wasn’t agast to his name.

“Which class are you?” As expected, Luan dropped any honorifics from the very beginning, his tail waving slightly as his ears twitched. 

“3-A, nya.”

“THIRD— Yooo bro you don’t even look like my upperclassman.”

“Luan, I don’t think it’s polite to—”

“Who cares?~” Che’nya reassured you it was okay. “As long as you’re having fun, everything’s nya-kay.”

Yuu blinked twice, awestruck by their similarity in enjoying fun things, but preferred to refrain from saying anything at this point. 

“You seem like a cool guy,” Luan nodded to himself. “Add me on MagiCam.”

“Sure, gimme your phone.”

Luan casually fumbled in his pockets and fished out another box-like device, larger in size than Che’nya’s. It was now decorated with a black-colored shining case with a pattern resembling claw marks and Luan’s name was written in giant impressive letters, and Yuu spotted how fancy and shining his box was, unlike cracked and dented Che’nya’s one.

But at least she could catch the name of the device! That was a phone. Yuu wondered what that little thing could do despite dissolving text in the air after letting it out of the device. She also had yet to find out what ‘MagiCam’ could be… 

“Oi Yuu,” Luan turned to her. “Gimme your MagiCam acc ID too.”

“Uhm…” She frowned. Now it was obvious that the phone was a thing that at least two of them possessed, and according to his words, Yuu obviously should have had it too. 

Even if she hadn’t.

“What’s the matter?”

“I, um,” she smiled sheepishly. “I don’t have a phone.”

Luan blinked at her, showing no emotion for a second before giggling.

“Lmao I almost thought you’re for real,” he laughed. “Ok now gimme your ID.”

Yuu threw a quick glance at Che’nya, thinking he would help her escape this peak of embarrassment, but he only leaned up to them, resting chin on his hands and grinning slyly. 

“No way,” Luan grabbed her by the shoulders. “You can’t be real!”

“I’m afraid I can…”

“Damn…” Luan mumbled and pulled quite a theatrically dramatical facial expression, covering his mouth with hands. “Valley of Thorns is wilder than I thought.”

Again that Valley of Thorns. Yuu started to await geography lessons the next day with quite an eagerness. 

Luan scrolled down the pages on the box—ugh, phone—and suddenly stopped just like Che’nya did not so long ago. Was there something frightening? 

“I guess some people just have a lot of free time,” he said, clicking his tongue. “So lame.”

“Right you are,” Che’nya said, drawing Yuu’s attention.

“Did something happen?” She asked as Che’nya gave her his phone and pointed to a message. An article?.. 

She needed some time to get used to the way text was written and how drastic the difference with a book was, but then checked the content closely and gasped.

↳✉ Neige is so annoying

↳✉ How tf did he win again

↳✉ Pathetic

↳✉ He’s just all about his youthful looks, he’s got no skills

↳✉ He should never play again lol

↳✉ This brat

↳✉ Wasn’t it revealed that his fanbase just bought 20k votes?

↳✉ I fucking hate him

Yuu covered her mouth with a hand, fixing her worried gaze on Che’nya who wasn’t smiling at all and seemed rather annoyed at what he read. Even though she didn’t understand half of the words—brat? Votes? What kind of votes? Also what is fucking?..—she could grasp the gist. The hate was spreading, and the words were surely venomous. 

“Some of Vil’s fans are sure crazy,” Luan exclaimed indignantly. 

Vil? Yuu didn’t know this name but decided not to interfere yet.

“There’s no denying,” Che’nya confirmed. 

Yuu bit her lip. Weren’t people… letting themselves too much to say? As she understood, Neige seemed to be quite popular, someone who was recognized at least within this school quite well. Well enough for people gossiping and saying terrible things. 

“He’s only a burden in the theatre club…” Luan quotted someone, as Yuu presumed. “Huh, there’s also people from this school hating him, too? Gonna give a good old punching.”

“Now now,” Che’nya calmed him down. “Creating more problems for him would be unwise. There’s another road to take…”

“Road?” Yuu echoed, meeting her his deep eyes glimmering with an emotion she couldn’t read. 

Yuu watched Luan’s fingers fly over the phone, a red button appearing on it saying ‘Report and block’, and even if Yuu didn’t fully understand how phones worked, she believed Luan did the right thing to do.

“Come to think of it, were you two introduced to the club system in the academy, hmm?”

“Clubs?” Yuu asked, wondering what was that.

“Yeah, I kinda heard of them. They say club presidents will hold somethin’ like an open day two weeks later to get new members, right?”

“Correct,” Yuu saw his striped purple tail waving cutely. “Is there any club you want to join?”

“I definitely want to, idk which one though. We’ll see,” Luan said, taking a huge bite of the dish he brought, and turned to Yuu. “Oi Yuu, what do you think? Have you found something suited for yourself?”

According to what Luan said, there was a theatre club. And that was the only information she received so far, making it difficult to say anything yet. Then again, what if everyone already knew which clubs existed within the school facilities, and she would look uninformed and even ignorant to the point of stupidity? 

“I’m not sure as well…” She decided to go with the safest option for now, catching Che’nya’s cheeky smile.

“Anything you’re interested in?” He asked her.

Yuu immediately frowned, knitting her brows together. Interests? It’s not like it was a matter of interests and her own preferences when it came to rescuing. Fairy Godmother taught her it was important to be a perfectionist, good in everything and especially in reacting fast when the situation could go under her own control. 

She tried going further to the shelves of her mind, observing them carefully and trying to pick at least something that could be interpreted as an interest or an activity she would genuinely enjoy and be good at. A block, the same as on the mirror she tried to cast, covered her memory. There was no clue. Nothing that could be attached to her, creating a certain characterization and attribute about her own personality. Her as a person.

“Yuu?” Luan looked straight into her eyes, slightly putting a hand over her shoulder. “You ok, buddy?”

“Buddy?..” She floated out of the ocean of her thoughts, taking a deep breath of fresh air when her classmate’s reassuring tone comforted her. “Oh, please pardon me.”

“Damn it sure hit you hard, didn’t it? Come on, you still have two weeks and even more time to think it over. We’ve got to see all the clubs nevertheless. You never know what you could find, right, Che’nya?”

“Indeed,” his tail wiggled, reassuringly reaching for Yuu’s hand and tickling it slightly, and Yuu noticed only now how closely they’ve been sitting. “There’s a way of applying for your own club if you feel like there’s no clubs fitting you.”

Yuu smiled weakly, but appreciated their help. 

Was it even right for her to think about such matters as clubs and interests? Certainly there was a princess, or maybe a prince to be rescued, and it was urgent. Once she rescues them, there will definitely be a way for her to return back home, so Yuu closed her eyes, letting her mind sponge the atmosphere of sweet happy school days and making friends. She must appreciate it while it is available, and once it is not…

She must do her best in order to not get attached.

Something ticklish was echoing within her head, causing Yuu to remember Neige again. Apparently he was a part of the theatre club and an actor himself, from what she heard. Yuu knew almost nothing about acting, but she encountered the consequences of being popular. Being watched. 

Princesses and Neige somehow seemed to have many things in common, and the major one was their popularity. Princesses were seen, there was no room for resting as someone was always watching them. Neige seemed to have minor differences compared to them that Yuu couldn’t confirm for now, such as was he a part of royalty or not, but nevertheless—he was being seen, and to the point of a viscous menacing trace following him. 

Figures of authority, princesses and popular people—indeed, if Yuu would pick the word to characterize all them, it would be ‘limits’. They may pretend well enough it was alright, to pull the masks of genuineness and happiness, as if nothing really happened when it actually did. Harvest of the popularity couldn’t be seen from the very beginning, it all started with seeds, which were growing within society not rapidly, but step by step, leaving the hints of their presence in people’s hearts and minds. Then they would grow, lingering in conversations and rumors, the leaves of rottenness falling everywhere, pollinating minds with already unconcealed hate and desire to see more. 

People tend to crave for more, they always have been, and they surely won’t stop. Yuu swallowed with disgust as someone walked behind her, saying something about Neige again.

And maybe… maybe it was Neige who she needed to rescue all along?

A pink butterfly was flowing around, following Yuu’s unhurried walk to the clock tower. Yuu breathed in a vespertine coldness and freshness, enjoying it after surviving under the hot sun in the morning, and hummed to herself as sea waves enveloped the shore, blowing around salty yet gentle marine fragrance. 

The clock tower was located on a separate from the other land cliff, making it a small island, which was connected to the main one with a stone bridge. Yuu came closer to the main door and stopped for a moment, a butterfly following her stumbling into her back. 

🗒 ➛ The building is currently being on maintaining checking. 

“Ah, so the person came,” Yuu nodded to herself, feeling her heartbeat going a bit more rapidly than before. 

Even if the person was the one who was checking this building for an unknown to Yuu amount of time, she thought of them not as the keeper, but as her guest she needed to welcome cordially. 

She went straight to the small kitchen, not even thinking about changing clothes, and pulled two cups out of the cabinet, then brewed jasmine tea. Gasping at the lack of appetizers, Yuu panicked for a moment. 

“It’s not right to serve tea without anything…” She mumbled, coming up with an idea.

She snapped her fingers, and a virid butterfly appeared. It gently tapped on Yuu’s nose and flew around with a pink butterfly, which was still there.

“Hello to you,” she greeted a butterfly, pointing at a small flower pot on the windowsill. “Would it be okay for you to grow a small rose? I need some petals.”

The butterfly danced around approvingly, and a cloud of green sparkles surrounded the pot. After making its job, the butterfly disappeared with similar sparkles, leaving a big bright red rose. 

“Great,” Yuu smiled. “Now to the fun part.”

She took a handful of petals and summoned a magic wand. All she needed now required a little visualization and creativity, so Yuu hummed joyfully, holding petals when with a dim light sparkles petals became caramelized and sugary.

“That would do,” she nodded to herself, the magic wand disappearing in the air. “Now I wonder where the keeper would be.”

She put two cups of tea and a small plate of caramelized rose petals on the tray, carrying it with one hand, and decided to go up to the top of the tower, right where the clock was located. 

Yuu saw a figure of a man bent over papers with astrological drawings and notes, and hesitated to approach him, who looked so unbelievably ethereal and unreachable. 

And before she could take at least one step towards him, a strange aura conveying his silhouette leaning over papers refrained Yuu from coming any further. It felt as if chains shackled her body, holding her in one place.

“Good evening.”

Yuu winced slightly. A low, velvety timbre, devoid of emotion, but nonetheless attractive and endearing, vibrated in the air, ricocheting off the walls and echoing around the room.

“Now that you’re here, I can go back,” he said, gathering his things before he straightened his back. “I’ll notify you next time I come. Stay safe.”

“W-wait!”

Yuu outstretched one available hand and tried to stop him with a gesture, and the keeper actually stayed.

“I brought some tea,” she said, pointing at the tray she was holding. “Would you like to share it with me?”

“... Alright. Would you like to have a chat then? Tea is the best when shared with someone,” he fell silent for a moment before chuckling slightly. 

Yuu smiled and finally came closer, still having a strong presence of… lack of the presence itself.

She came closer, putting a tray on a small table when the keeper offered her a chair she took right after him. 

“Is there anything you’re worrying about? Your pupils have been trembling since you stepped into the room.”

Yuu jolted slightly and looked straight into his eyes.

The keeper of the clock tower turned out to be a handsome-looking young man, despite the fact that in Yuu's imagination, he should have been respectably older. Porcelain skin on a pale face was adorned with a scattering of freckles, and yet despite such a childish perky detail, his light blue eyes betrayed an absolute emptiness in him. There was no patch of reflected light shining in them, and Yuu could not see the pupils, as if his eyes were made of void, revealing the fact that the artist had forgotten to finish this detail for him.

The unruly, light curls of his raven-colored hair cascaded over his chiseled cheekbones, and his thin lips were closed in a single line.

However, the most prominent feature was undoubtedly his left arm. The steel mechanism with painted floral patterns and perfectly machined hinges that replaced the original limb looked unequivocally impressive, but not intimidating.

And yet Yuu was frowning, trying to get deeper into his soul, to feel if it was warm or cold, was he radiating gnawing sadness or piercing happiness—he was empty, a bottle with nothing in it. 

As if he was dead.

“You look like you have a question.”

“Yes, that is correct, though I’m not sure if it would be okay to ask…”

“Let me guess… You wonder what I am,” he said so calmly it was startling. 

“I’m sorry for being rude—”

“You aren’t,” he noticed, his voice balancing between steady and emotionless but also cheeky?.. Was it even alright for her to describe his voice that way? “I’m sorry for confusing you.”

“Oh, no, that is alright… Please, enjoy the tea and the appetizer I prepared.”

“Appetizer?” He asked, taking a petal and observing it, a ghosty hint of curiosity appearing in his eyes for a mere moment. “This petal?”

“Yes, I’ve made it myself. It’s caramelized rose petals, they’re sweet but not too much. I hope you’ll enjoy it…”

“Thank you for your cordial welcome,” he bowed to her politely, receiving the same gesture from her. “Well then, my name is Prospero.”

“My pleasure to meet you,” Yuu replied. “I’m Yuu.”

“The pleasure’s mine. Ah,” he said after taking a bite of the rose petal and shifting his gaze to Yuu, his eyes softening slightly. “This is very much enjoyable, you did a good job. Not to mention you’re quite a creative little lady.”

“Thank you!” Yuu answered cheerfully, happy that her work was acknowledged. 

“To answer your curiosity from before,” he continued after sipping tea. “I’m this clock tower’s keeper, the shop keeper as well as an appointed school psychologist and a teacher. Remember well the psychologist part. If anything happens and you’ll feel like anything is too much, please come to me. I’m here to help with any problems you might encounter while studying. School life can be rather harsh sometimes. Especially given you’re the only female here… Seriously, what was Ambrose thinking.”

“N-no, that is alright!! The headmaster gave me a place to live, considering my situation. How could I ask for more…” Yuu mumbled.

Prospero drew a mechanical hand to his chin, humming to himself in a nagging way but not really saying anything, to which Yuu wondered what that could mean, and stared at his hand. Floral patterns shone beautifully in the dim lights of the clock tower, but now that she took a closer look, the steel part appeared to be fairly scratched?.. 

“Apparently you wonder what happened to my arm, right?” He asked, noticing how she winced and shook her head awkwardly. “No, that’s okay, it’s natural. Don’t worry, I just had… rather difficult past.”

“I hope it’s better now…” Yuu said quietly, catching sight of little emotion she couldn’t read at the moment. He was pretty hard to analyze in general. “If I can be of help, then—”

“Children must stay children as long as they can,” he said, spotting how her ears twitched. “No need to age so early. Even though I don’t really know how you faes age.”

“H-huh? You’re aware?”

“As everyone here among the school staff is aware of your situation. Don’t worry, no one will use it against you. Speaking of which, I don’t hide my own being, but would be much appreciated if you don’t blabber about it everywhere. I don’t really want to deal with an extra headache. By the way, I feel like you’ve been wanting to ask me about that all this time, correct?”

How do you even ask if you’re alive or not, Yuu thought, slightly annoyed, and took a deep breath.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Yuu said. “But you’re right about that, I want to know who… or what you are. Oh, forgive me for being rude—”

“Worry not,” he reassured her. “As to your question, I’m a puppet. Bonus points for you if you’ll manage to guess correctly from what material I was made. Don’t forget to visit my shop later on.”

“Puppet…” Yuu echoed.

No wonder his presence wasn’t felt at all. He’s no human, he has no soul or anything that could be counted as one.

Yuu dared to look at him, seeing he didn’t really mind her closer observation, and lost in thoughts and concentration. She had some experience in guessing people’s true beings—she was exceptionally good at finding merfolk—but neither human nor a magical being? Presuming objects’ properties wasn’t her best part, but Prospero wasn’t an object in the first place, though how he should be called if so remained unknown. 

His steel arm was out of place, but Yuu somehow was sure it’s not it. He didn’t smell like steel, there was almost nothing metallic in him, but a slight hint of something sylvan, carrying fragrant herbs aroma alongside with oak bark tickled Yuu’s nose.

“You’re,” Yuu raised her head and looked straight into his eyes, sure of her guess. “Made from wood.”

And with that being said, Yuu winced at her own assumption. Wait a moment, if was a wooden puppet, or rather a doll, then could he be?.. 

Pinocchio. He had a strange, absolutely absurd and unbelievable relation to Pinocchio.

Prospero chuckled and started clapping quietly. 

“Correct,” he grinned, and she wasn’t sure how this emotion felt. He was smiling, but what was the feeling within his chest? Was there anything at all? “I must say, I’m pretty much impressed. People think I’m a porcelain puppet.”

“You look like one,” Yuu admitted. “I was confused at first.”

“My master had outstanding skills. Anyway, as I’ve mentioned, I’ll guarantee a discount for you next time you visit. And please do remember my psychological services require no payment.”

“Oh,” Yuu muttered. “Right, you’ve mentioned that… kind of job?”

“I see you haven’t yet happened to visit a psychologist,” Prospero said. “Which is neither bad nor good. Even when we think we’re okay, it might be that we don’t. If you feel confused or anxious, or maybe even too giddy to the point it’s alarming, let me know. I’m here to help, alright?”

“Thank you very much,” she said, even knowing that there won’t be any need for that. Appreciating his good intentions, yet realizing she will leave soon, Yuu smiled at him and bowed. 

“Don’t mention it.”

The rest of the conversation went quite well as they discussed Yuu’s adjusting to the school and Prospero’s shop. He suggested she visit him tomorrow, at least to take a look at where he works and where to find him if something happens within the clock tower’s walls.  She nodded, thinking that she will definitely need to observe his relation to Pinocchio later on in the library.

And so she decided to do it the next morning before going to the lessons. 

RSA was an enormously large school. Yuu knew schools exist but no to the extent of knowing their average sizes, thus RSA felt grand and majestic in its own way. Every time Yuu walked within the facilities, she was being under an impression that the world is huge, blossoming in its glory and magnificence. 

Princesses' worlds had never been that large. 

What was strange to Yuu is that this world seemed to know no boundaries, whilst whenever she would try traveling in a Princess’s world, she would definitely meet a dead-end. A black wall full of nothing but void, symbolizing its end. At first Yuu was terrified, thinking it was some sort of an obstacle, but somehow Princesses couldn’t even see it, asking Yuu where she would go and for what reason. 

Fairy Godmother told her that their realms had limits and barriers that Princesses weren’t aware of. Which was quite puzzling to Yuu—didn’t it mean she needed to erase them, make Princesses free and enjoy the world they live in? And yet… 

They would giggle straight at her face, calling her cute and silly. Why would they leave when they met the Prince of their dreams? Why travel and broaden horizons? Indeed, they achieved what they needed and wanted, justice was settled, and Yuu’s work finished. 

Their worlds might have resembled big bubbles, very well imitating a real world with its spacious sceneries, but in the end it was nothing but a cage. And Yuu was fascinated with how lively and real this world seemed, given she only has been here, in the Academy, and didn’t know if there is anything else beside it, but the landscape opening out of the window in her room shown an endless sea shimmering with bright sparkles under the moonlight, giving her a ray of light ghosty hope.

She didn’t notice how she made it up to the Prospero’s shop. A small, quaint hut, nonetheless in keeping with the local architecture, appeared before her. Yuu made sure that it was open, and knocked thrice before she heard distant ‘Come in!’ somewhere from the shop, said in Prospero’s deep voice.

As soon as Yuu took a step inside, the wooden floorboard creaked. Had she been taller, she would probably have run into the hat hanging on the rack at the entrance. Fanciful paintings hung on the wall near the hanger, as well as framed dried rare flowers. Directly ahead of them was a cylindrical vendor's counter, behind which Yuu spotted Prospero rummaging through the merchandise. 

Behind him was a spiral staircase. To the right of the vendor's counter, there were many shelves and racks filled with various gear, flasks, boxes, containers, and other amusing crafts. Behind the stairs were racks filled with ordinary food, as well as flower pots randomly placed on the shelves. The crystal elongated hexagon chandeliers shimmered in pale pinks and dull yellows, giving the shop an air of mystery, as if Yuu had walked into a witch's stall.

“Good morning, Prospe— Oh?”

Yuu went further, curious and absolutely spellbound about every little thing in here, but before she could greet the clock tower’s keeper, she almost stumbled upon something… or rather someone?

“Hmph, watch where you’re going!!”

Yuu lowered her gaze and spotted… a dwarf?! It’s been a while since she last saw them!! Yuu stared at him, who was sweeping the floor, and then knelt down, looking straight into his steel gray eyes, fixing the unruly lock of his crimson hair and causing him to shrug her hand. 

“Oh, I’m deeply sorry… Are you alright?”

“What do you think you’re doing?! I’m not a child!!”

“Yes, I know,” Yuu smiled at him, wondering why his eyes would widen so suddenly. “You’re around 17 or 18 years old. Am I correct?”

“Hmph, you fool.”

“Grum, it’s impolite to answer like that.”

Yuu turned around to see another dwarf walking down the stairs and carrying some books. Unlike Grum who appeared to be the dwarf Yuu was talking to, he had ash-colored hair, brown eyes and was wearing glasses, a gentle apologetic smile plastered on his face. 

“Good morning!” He greeted Yuu before standing on tiptoes, and barely reached the shelf, but Yuu quickly ran up to him, helping to place the books at the right height. “Thank you, young lady! Please don’t mind Grum for his rudeness, he’s actually flustered you guessed his age right.”

“Oh!” Yuu gasped. “So is it 17 or 18?”

“We’re 17,” he said, outstretching his hand for Yuu to shake, so she did. “I’m Dominic. And you would be?..”

“I’m Yuu.”

“Here to buy something, Yuu? I can help! What do you need?”

“Oh, no, I was just curious…” She smiled sheepishly. Grum went upstairs, still sulking, as Dominic chuckled. 

“Which is also great!” He exclaimed. “You can pick anything eye-catching, and I’ll tell a story about the item. Or I can also pour some tea.”

“There’s no need, but thank you for your cordial welcome,” Yuu couldn’t help but pat his head, seeing Dominic’s tender smile. They weren’t children, but a child-like appearance made it impossible not to pat them and spoil a little.

“Dominic, look! Maybe this thing could help Neige?!”

Another dwarf came from upstairs, causing both Yuu and Dominic to switch their attention to him, blond strands of his hair were pulled out from under clips in the shape of musical notes.

“Don't run up the stairs,” Dominic nagged softly, but it appeared the dwarf didn’t really care as much. 

Yuu tilted her head curiously. Did he just mention Neige?..

“And before anything, greet the customer.”

“Oh, sorry!~” The sunny cheerful-looking dwarf finally noticed Yuu standing here all along. “Good morning!”

“Good morning indeed,” Yuu smiled. “What is your name?”

“Hop,” he smiled proudly. 

“I’m Yuu, nice to meet you, Hop.”

“So what did you want to show me?” Dominic came closer to Hop, taking a bottle with a soft lilac liquid in it and examining it before frowning. “Hop…”

“It says ‘sleeping pill’!! If Neige can’t sleep, then we must make him!” 

“Hop, no.”

“Why no…”

“I can’t give you that without a prescription,” Prospero said, materializing out of nowhere behind Dominic. “There’s only one person on the campus who can anyway...”

So Yuu wasn’t mistaken, they really have been talking about Neige. Somehow Neige and dwarfs in one sentence sounded extremely familiar to her, but she decided to not rush it yet, and then another dwarf with short jade green hair and hazel eyes wearing an eye sleep mask on his head came from upstairs.

“Dominic…I think… I found something…Useful…”

Dominic chuckled, tilting his head and asking what exactly he found.

“This,” another dwarf said. “Neige plays such a… terrifying loud music at night… Can’t sleep.”

Terrifying loud music?.. Somehow Yuu wondered if that could be true, given his image seemed rather tender and warm, but she shrugged those thoughts, knowing prejudice wouldn’t help. 

Another dwarf gave Dominic two cylindrical things that look like pills?.. Yuu bent over to take a closer look, but this device was unknown to her.

“Earplugs,” Dominic sighed. “Well, if it could help you, Shelpie… How much for earplugs, teacher Prospero?”

Prospero, starting walking upstairs, sighed, closing his eyes, and the next second his voice became dim and slightly annoyed. 

“For you? Nothing. It’s just plugs.”

“But we can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Prospero already went up, and a loud thud of the boxes he carried was heard. “Timmy, help me out there.”

Timmy? Apparently there were more dwarfs than Yuu saw in the span of last five minutes. 

“I can’t just let him spoil us with so many things already…” Dominic mumbled, returning Yuu’s attention to him as Grum returned to the place where he was sweeping the floor and throwing a glance at her. 

“Do you perhaps work here?”

“We’re part-timing, you’re correct,” Dominic said, fishing out of his pockets a small amount of coins and placing them on Prospero’s desk while he didn’t see. “We sweep the floors, help arrange the goods, wipe the dust... You can see for yourself, although the shop is small, there is always a lot of stuff.”

Yuu looked at the bright red brooch on his jacket—come to think of it, other dwarfs had them. too—she also saw it on Neige that evening, wasn’t it symbolizing they belong to the same dormitory… As far as she remembered, Che’nya said it was called Edelwiese.

“You must be working hard,” Yuu said when Dominic took another broom and joined Grum, who  was still sweeping the floor. “Please remember to take some breaks from time to time.”

“You’re very kind, Yuu,” Dominic smiled at her. “Please don’t worry.”

She observed the shop for a while, carefully taking stuff in her hands, examining it and wondering how in the world did Prospero manage to find all those. Yuu also appeared to be lost in thoughts while observing things and noticing they were fairly… old, so to say, if not ramshackle. Useful even still, but old in any case. Which was strange, Yuu thought, switching her gaze to the shelf with snacks on it, which looked quite modern and unfamiliar to Yuu. What a strange shop it was, indeed.

There were even curious artifacts, enchanted jewelry, rare herbs, and gems that Yuu would love to acquire, but for lack of local currency, there was no point in doing so. Besides, after rescuing the princess or the prince, she must return home anyway, so, overcoming her curiosity, she shook her head and said goodbye to Prospero and the dwarves as she left the shop.

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

Emery ascended the tribunal, checking out if there was anyone absent, and starting the lesson right after.

“Today we’re going to discuss magic properties and to which types it divides,” Emery said, grabbing a chalk. “But before that, tell me which magic type you think you’re pretty much confident in. It’s alright if you’re not sure, just remain silent then.”

Yuu placed her chin on hands, watching Luan start fidgeting slightly in excitement. 

“Is there magic you’re confident in?” She asked him quietly.

“You betcha,” he giggled before raising his hand.

“Yes, Luan?”

“Wind magic!”

The way Luan smiled, raising his chin up, and giggled, reminded her of someone… Was it because of his youthful appearance and cheeky yet playful attitude?—

“Great,” Emery nodded. “Yuu? Maybe you have something?”

Yuu bent her brows, thinking hard. She was, indeed, quite a talented sorceress, but in terms of this world’s magic? It was risky to reveal, not even knowing the types the magic divided. Hearing Luan’s one helped her a bit, meaning it still divided at least on elemental types, but to what extent? Yuu first threw a quick glance on Luan, whose tail was wagging in anticipation, and decided to go with the safest assumption.

“Flora,” she said almost weightlessly. 

“... As expected,” Emery grinned in a mysterious way, which Yuu couldn’t really decipher. As expected?..

“You definitely look like a flora mainer,” Luan chuckled, explaining. “I’m afraid we’re not compatible in our types.”

“And you’re wrong,” Emery sighed, causing Luan to sulk a bit. “I said ‘which magic type you think you’re pretty much confident in’, not ‘you sure are confident’. We’ll see if it’s your best one, moreover, there’s not only one type. Not to mention you most definitely can combine wind and flora together, the one thing remaining is learning how to do it in a correct way. Now, let us continue.”

“Woah chill, you killjoy,” Luan giggled, knowing exactly well that Emery did hear him, but decided to let it slide for this one, continuing the lesson, while Luan earned a reassuring smile from Yuu.

“First of all, I see there are a lot of wind magic users,” Emery said, nodding to himself before turning around. “Or you think so. Next we’ve got fire users.”

Yuu heard a strange noise from Luan, seeing him knitting his brows together, wondering what this reaction could mean. 

As Emery started making simple diagrams and patterns on the blackboard, Yuu was following him, writing down the notes while Luan started swinging his leg under the desk casually, though still listening, quite interested in the subject.

“All in all magic divides into two groups, the first one falling into four elemental types, which are: fire, water, flora, and wind. The other one is the void element, which can be divided into dark and light types of cosmic magic.”

Yuu listened carefully, making colorful well-structured notes. 

“Woah, girl,” Luan bent over to peep into her notebook. “Your notes are so neat.”

“Thank you, it’s nothing,” she shrugged sheepishly. 

“Mine are a mess,” he chuckled, showing her a notebook full of his scribbles done in not so neat handwriting, but surely unique. 

“Does it really matter as long as you understand everything you wrote?”

“Right?? Thanks for saying that, Yuu.”

“Don’t mention it?..”

Yuu continued to listen to Emery from then on. 

According to him, magic could be performed in forms of combining elemental types altogether, or mixing both elemental and void elements. Every magic type had its own properties and features, for instance, water magic had major healing properties, whilst fire was supposed to be mostly damaging. 

Magic studies could be compared to any science — it was developing with time passing. Properties weren't too one-sided anymore, and even if main features remained, it didn’t mean there was no place for creativity and experiments. 

As Emery has mentioned, it didn’t mean that flora and wind couldn’t work together. Depending on the magic spell casted and incantations said, they could perform wonders, just like a fire-water pair and others. 

Yuu noticed that her magic didn’t really differ much. The only problem was, undoubtedly, the way she casted it. With Emery’s demonstration of a very simple wind spell, it appeared to be rough, quite raw and very concentrated. And most importantly, it was a wind swirl itself.

Even if she didn’t possess wind magic, she had other elemental type ones, but in any case her way of casting spells could create great problems, given she didn’t produce magic in its raw, bare form, but in butterflies. 

Moreover, she lacked a void element. Her butterflies could do much more, but she also didn’t really have an idea of what a void element could do in the first place. Not to mention it was yet to be seen if her butterflies and the local magic were equal in power, or did something overpowered one another. 

And the question was, how to convert her butterflies into raw magic forms. 

“Beside elemental and void magic, there is also another type called Unique Magic.”

“Unique?..” Yuu mumbled to herself.

“Some of you might have already discovered your own, but others are yet to do that, if at all. If you haven’t, it doesn’t mean you’re a bad magician. Not to mention some of those can be terrifying to the point you’d rather not use it at all.”

Emery sighed, putting a chalk piece on the desk and wiping his hands with a towel before twisting a strand of hair around his finger.

“Unique magics aren’t based on elemental or void types. They can, but it’s not necessarily. The most difficult and terrifying ones have something to do with a human's condition or mind. Please be especially careful when dealing with those or possessing your own.”

Yuu shivered. Their magic could do something like that?

“They can’t be unambiguously assigned according to a certain system or properties. Unique magics can deal with mind, can deal high damage or, on the contrary, have healing properties, can serve as a conductor, and many many more…” Emery seemed to be deep in his thoughts. “For example, mine is…”

“Excuse me, teacher der Licht,” Yuu suddenly said, raising her hand.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Is it alright for you to reveal one's unique magic?”

“Good question,” he nodded. “You might keep your own magic secret to your classmates, but it is obligatory to let the school staff know. In case something happens, we can take appropriate action and help if needed. As for school staff, our unique magics are open for you to check. Go visit the teacher's room if you’re interested. We also reveal our magics during the lesson, like I was about to do a minute ago. Now, if I answered your question properly, I shall continue.”

“Thank you.”

“So, as I was saying, my unique magic is called ‘I See the Light’. It allows me to declassify one’s own unique magic, so I’ll know how it works and what the conditions are, and cancel it after pronouncing an incantation.” 

Yuu gasped and shivered, eyes widening in shock. Unique magic could do even THAT? But did that mean—

“If you haven't discovered your unique magic yet, I won’t be able to see it.”

Alright, maybe there still was a way for Yuu to create an undercover for her own abilities. 

“And now let’s get back to the magic properties. Oh and please, those who know their unique magic, come to me right after the lesson ends, I’ll register them.” 

“Tch, pain in the ass,” Luan mumbled, scribbling something in his notebook, to which Yuu chuckled softly.

“It appears you already have one,” she whispered to him when he turned to her, smiling proudly.

“Yep,” he pressed a finger to his lips and winked at her. “But it’s a secret~”

“O-okay!” Yuu nodded.

She had her own secrets after all.

“Ugh… I’m… sorry… Are you alright?”

Yuu coughed, holding onto her magic wand and tightening a grip on it, watching a giant swirl of butterflies of different colors dissipating and covering her body, fluttering their wings with a genuine worry.

“Ha-ha, I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

Yuu stood up slowly, her eyes meeting a majestic starry sky upon her, only glassy cover of the tower separating her and that magnificent scenery. 

Almost fifty butterflies were flying around, their wings reflecting in a dim light of the clock tower, and Yuu sighed heavily. How many hours have passed since she returned here, practicing and trying to adjust her own magic to the local one? She tried converting butterflies into spells, but all in vain — butterflies would just dissolve or scatter, frightened away. 

“Oh, little one, there was no need…” She said when an iridescent butterfly tapped on her hands, causing her to put the magic wand away and heal her fingers, lacking strength and grip. 

“Ouch,” Yuu giggled when a pink butterfly sat on the tip of her nose. “Alright, alright, I’ll take a break! Stop lecturing me~”

Yuu snapped her fingers, and all of the butterflies dissolved midair with a wave of sparkles, and took a deep breath.

All her efforts went in vain, but to her fortune, practical magic lessons will start only next year, so she had time. Which was also a trivial aspect due to her leaving soon right after a princess or a prince will be rescued. 

And there will be no more fascinating magic study. Again.

“It’s late but I wonder if the library is open…”

She took the jacket and threw it over her shoulders, then went out, meeting an exceptionally fresh and even slightly cold evening air, enjoying the way stars shone brightly in the anthracite night sky. 

Entering the main building, Yuu questioned if it was okay in the first place — an insinuating darkness covered school halls, clatter of her heels echoing and ricochetting of the walls. Everyone seemed to be sleeping as they should. Yuu couldn’t really feel the flow of time, orienting on the way sun rays flickered in the morning and how cold the air became at night. The clock she saw on her way to the library announced that it was already one past midnight and hummed, wondering if she should try adjusting to a human's sleeping schedule. 

Yuu opened the door to the library and peeked into it to make sure no one was there. Good, Aell seemed to be absent. She apologized to herself for intruding and went straight to the informational desk, checking out the section she needed. 

She then went upstairs, passing by the shelves with many intriguing books on them, but Yuu, mentally fighting with her own curiosity, swallowed it and came right to the section she needed to study magic adjustment. 

“That could be of help…” She mumbled to herself, choosing books. “And also that. And that also may… Hm?”

She felt a familiar presence somewhere at her left and turned, noticing none other than Neige sleeping at the desk, surrounded by piles of books scattered around his angelic features. Yuu parted her lips, not sure if it was right to come to him, but decided to take a moment to observe the situation.

But before she actually could do anything, she spotted another fairly familiar person approaching the table Neige was sleeping at. 

“Sleeping in the library again, hm?” 

The boy who she encountered at the clock tower on her first night here, the one she also saw here in the library the other day when Che’nya interrupted her! 

Come to think of it, she couldn’t comprehend that during their first, uh, ‘meeting’, but the boy appeared to be really tall. His hair reflected in a moonlight, the blue glow of his eyes looking majestically enchanting. 

He came closer to Neige, who still was sleeping, and bent over him, placing a bottle with something Yuu didn’t know what since the bottle was quite opaque, and smiled rather bitterly as he left. 

Yuu found herself lost in thoughts again, pondering if it would be alright for her to approach Neige and observe him, or maybe to at least check what was in the bottle. She turned around, making certain Che’nya wasn’t here like last time he prevented her from coming closer to the boys she saw, and chuckled to herself.

“Just what am I thinking,” she smirked and shook her head. 

No, it wasn’t right. He was sleeping, and despite him looking absolutely extraterrestrial and lovely, he was obviously tired. Yuu quietly made her way to a separate desk, placing the books on it and opening one of them, deciding to wait. She, unlike humans, had a lot of time.

Silence. There was nothing but silence. 

Yuu broke the silence that hung in the air by flipping pages, and even the muffled sounds of nature outside the window fell silent humbly, giving her a feeling of complete concentration and attentiveness.

Luckily to her, there was a way to modify one’s magic properties so they would take on a different form and shape, but that also meant the powers of the wielderer would change. It doesn’t necessarily mean they would go weak—history has known cases where it would increase greatly—but to make it work required a lot of experience from a magician. 

Yuu sighed, pressing fingers to her chin and tilting her head. Fairy Godmother has always been saying there’s no need for her to dwell on magic study that hard. Yuu knew some attacking and defensive spells to deal with evil powers in Princesses worlds, but nothing much further than that. The mere fact she discovered her magic was casted in a form of butterflies was rather terrifying at first since she thought it was forbidden and she’ll be punished for experimenting. Turned out it was alright but only if she didn’t push it, letting things remain as they were. 

Yuu took another book and was about to dwell on it harder, but heard sweet little mutterings, raising her head and meeting Neige’s sleepy eyes.

“Ugh… Huh? Yuu?..”

She smiled at him, waiting for him to awake fully, and took the books, coming closer to him.

“Is it alright if I sit here?” She asked, receiving a nod in return. “Thank you!”

“Good evening. I must apologize, you saw me in such a pathetic state…”

“That is absolutely okay,” Yuu shook her head. “I’m rather worried you’re having a bad time sleeping… Are you alright?”

Neige saw a bottle placed on the table and opened it. Sweet and gentle black tea aroma lingered in the air, and Yuu caught the notes of chamomile in there. 

Neige ripped off the small sticker Yuu didn’t notice that was stuck to the bottle. He giggled softly, sticking a sticker on one of the pages of his notebook, a ‘Cheer up! 🤗’ in a small handwriting was written down there. Yuu wondered if Neige knew the boy who brought the bottle.

“Please do not worry much,” Neige replied, taking a sip when Yuu looked at the books around him, all about math, history, alchemy, magic… What a vague choice. “Moreover, is it alright for you to be here that late? You should sleep well…”

“Thanks for your advice, but I’m alright.”

A brief silence hung between them. Neige opened one of the books, math one if Yuu wasn’t mistaken, and rubbed his eyes. 

“Um…” She broke the silence, meeting Neige’s lovely but exceptionally drained gaze. “How's the rabbit, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ah,” he smiled gently. “It’s doing quite well. Dwarfs have been looking after… Ah, you might not know them yet…”

“Dwarfs!” Yuu smiled at him brightly. “I’ve met Dominic, Grum, Hop and, hmmm, Shelpie, was it?” 

“Oh, so you know them!” Neige giggled, his eyes filled with bright sparkles of genuine care and happiness all at once, his cheeks dusting with soft pink, and Yuu caught herself on a thought that the sound of him laughing warmly suited him like nothing else. “Actually, there are seven of them, ha-ha… They took care of the rabbit quite well while I, um, was busy.”

Yuu winced at the word ‘seven’. Seven dwarfs and sweet and kind Neige, possessing a lovely voice and a beauty she has never seen before… Huh. Somehow it didn’t sit right in her.

“Yuu?” He asked her worryingly.

“Sorry,” she shrugged. “I’m glad that the rabbit is okay. The dwarfs are surely thoughtful!”

“They definitely are,” he smiled.

Yuu frowned, still lost in her extremely ridiculous and absurd theory, but decided to try proving it in the most vague way possible.

“Do you perhaps live together? I’ve noticed you all have bright red brooches,” the way Neige didn’t lose his composure but was obviously not so comfortable with answering right away made Yuu to clench a piece of her clothes under the desk. She didn’t want to push him, but could he… could he really be a prince in distress she needed to rescue? If so… “I’m just living all alone in the clock tower since well… You see that my case is rather odd. That’s why I don’t really know about the dorms’ arrangement.”

“Oh!” Neige exclaimed, smiling away all the worry from before, which put Yuu on guard. He surely was genuine and cheerful, but now it was more suspicious and alarming than just carrying an image of an always happy person. “Right, you must be confused. Yes… We live together in one room. Though I must mention our case is rather odd, just like yours. It just… happened to be like that.”

“Is that so…”

The theory of Neige resembling Snow White herself started to sound not so preposterous as it was. Yuu decided she needed solid confirmation. She quietly snapped her fingers, and a pink butterfly appeared. Yuu pointed with her finger at the window, sending a butterfly there. A tingling feeling in her stomach made her frown with worry, but she proceeded to distract Neige.

“Are you perhaps a second-year student? Dwarfs said they’re all seventeen years old,” Yuu grinned.

“I am 17, too,” he answered gently. “What about you?”

“Oh, I am a first-year. As for my age…”

Yuu swallowed her worry when a butterfly flew over to their table. Neige gasped and stretched out a finger, welcoming the butterfly which danced around him. Yuu was sure she didn’t tell the butterfly that it must fly straight to Neige. It’s as if he was spellbinding every nature creature around himself… 

Just like Snow White did.

“What a curious color,” Neige whispered. “I’ve never seen a butterfly like that.”

“Curious indeed…”

A fae couldn’t lie. Yuu couldn’t too, deciding it would be for the best to not comment on that. Moreover, she confirmed her theory, looking straight at Neige and observing his features. Pitch-black hair, eyes shimmering like gold, lips red as blood… 

There was no denying.

“It’s already late,” Yuu said suddenly, gathering the books. “I should get going. I also suggest you go to sleep, Neige. Staying so late is bad for your health.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, seeing the butterfly flying away to the window and watching it with a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. “But I must stay a little longer. Don’t worry, I’ll go back soon.”

“As you say… Well then, see you later.”

“Good night, Yuu.”

She hurried away out of the main building and met the butterfly she sent near the garden. 

“He’s related to Snow White,” she dropped, a genuine worry plastered on her face. “I don’t know in which terms, but he definitely is.” 

The butterfly fluttered its wings rapidly, agreeing with Yuu. 

And if he resembled Snow White, then it meant he was the Prince she needed to rescue in order to return back home and do her duty as a Princesses rescuer. 

It will be a long sleepless night full of connecting the facts she had and making a plan to help him.

★﹒﹒NOTES ✧˖ 小孩子 (xiaohaizi) — little children. ✧˖ Oh faila maira súrë, á ortëa ni ana the orwa fanyarë — “Oh generous splendid wind, rise me to the high sky”. I genuinely hope I understand Quenya grammar right— ✧˖ As I've promised, here's some explanations about word formation used in RSA dorm names! — Pandora Charm (actually we just came up with that and called it a day lmao) — Kifurijua : Royal — kifalme (Swahili) Pride — Kiburi (Swahili) Sun — Jua (Swahili) — Merheronelle : Sea — Mer (French) Hero — Hero (English) Nelle — Just an addition — Huriirada : Freedom — Huriya (Arabic) Will — ‘Iirada (Arabic) — Edelwiese : Gems — Edelsteine (German) Meadow — Wiese (German) — Dýnamieisos : Power — Dýnami (Greek) Heaven — Parádeisos (Greek) — Florevel : To Bloom — Florere (Latin) Vel — Just an addition. — Sidhery : Elf — Sid (Irish)  Ery — An ending from the word ‘Fairy’ in English.

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 6

You’re a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

A/N: This picks back up in the flash back from Ch. 5, and as a result, Y/N is reeling. I am also currently writing the smutty stuff, so that will be coming up here soon, and woof, was it insanity to write.

TW: depression, assault, r*pe, alcohol abuse

3.1K Word Count

Ch. 6: You Blame Me For Everything You Hate

“Y/L/N?” You hear a familiar, feminine voice pull you from your daze. Your gaze wanders to your surroundings, noticing you are still in the washroom, curled up on the floor of the shower. You weren’t sure how long you had been there, but you were certain you had passed out. The light that filtered in the window above the door had not shifted to darkness, signaling that night had fallen. “Y/N?” You could tell now that the voice belonged to Camila, one of your friends that went all the way back to your enlistment and boot camp. You heard shuffling, as two pairs of boots made their way around the wash room, presumably looking for you. You stood up quickly, not wanting to be seen like this, just wanting to be seen as normal as possible to avoid raising suspicion. In your haste to stand, you hadn’t realized how dizzy you really were, as you likely had a mild concussion from the solid stone ashtray that struck you just above your eye. You started to falter, the shower spinning around you as the curtain was ripped open and Nikki caught you by your underarms before you struck your head. 

“Girl, what the hell?” She asks before carefully turning your aching body so you could sit on the cold bench. You winced at the pain of just sitting, he had never used you anally before, and everything was sore from how rough he was. “Honey, what the hell happened to you?”

“Her eyebrow is split open, there’s a goose egg on her head. We need to take her to the infirmary.” Camila pointed out, and then gasping as Nikki gently turned your head. 

“Y/N/N, what is this from? You have a bruise on your neck, your hips are bruised, this doesn’t look good honey.” Nikki spoke softly, noticing how jumpy you were. But she knew the answer in the back of her mind. The meeting you had earlier today had something to do with your current state. As did all the other ‘meetings’ , and why you weren’t sleeping or eating. Your genuine lack of care showed how broken you were right now. 

“Nix, we need to get her in now. She was attacked.” Camila stated, looking around for your clothes, so they could dress you. When she looked around, she found your torn underwear, tainted with cum, and your fatigues and workout tee. “Nikki, she was raped.” 

“I know, Camila, I think I have an idea who, too.” 

***

That was the last of the memory you had, you had passed back out while Nikki held onto you, and Cam had apparently gone and grabbed you some fresh clothes, a bag for the dirty ones, and some help from your closest friends to get you to the infirmary. From that point on, you had your emotions steeled, and turned against almost everyone. Nikki, Camila and a select few others were the only ones who really knew what had happened that day, but rumors went flying, especially when Waters was discharged after the results of the rape test. You pushed yourself and didn’t really allow yourself to feel, you went through the motions, went to therapy, and rose through the ranks efficiently. Part of you wished that asshat was still enlisted, you would have loved to make his life a living hell, but you knew that half your promotions would have never happened with him present. 

No one really ever found out why or how long, you never told anyone that the assaults had been ongoing for a month, almost 3 times a week, Nikki knew the timeframe, but you never confirmed it with her, you just told her that he had been threatening you up to the breaking point. When people had asked why he did this, you feigned stupidity, claiming he just snapped. Had you told them the real reason, you would have likely been kicked out of the military too. Even with ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ being a thing of the past, many higher ranking officers didn’t like people being open about sexuality, and found a way to excommunicate you for it. You wouldn’t risk it. Your military career relied on it. You kept your head down, and did everything by the book, ensuring that there was no way for someone to call you out for working the system. 

You didn’t realize that you had slipped under water, until you felt the familiar ache in your chest that came from holding your breath for too long. You sprung back out of the water, slamming your hands onto the surface of the water, and inadvertently scraping one of your hands on the hot tub deck. The sting of chlorine in the open wound on your knuckles fully brought you back to reality. You were breathing like you just ran a marathon, and quickly had to calm your nerves before having a full onset panic attack. As the aftermath of the unwelcome memory slowly dissipated, you shook out your hair, and quickly pulled yourself out of the water. You stalked over to the chair your towel was thrown onto, toweling your hair dry, and patting yourself until you were dry enough to not drip all over the house. You looked around for your phone, groaning when you realized that it had slipped under water during your momentary relapse. You stepped back into the now calm hot tub, sinking under water to grab the device, and surfacing to repeat your drying process before going to find a way to dry out your waterlogged phone. 

You opened every cabinet in the kitchen, hoping somewhere, you might have some sort of rice or grain that you could place your phone into, but you had none. Wiping your hands on your face, you set the phone onto a towel, and gently wrapped it in the cotton with the hopes that it would dry out by tomorrow morning. Walking back down the hallway, you stepped foot in your home office, and set the towel with your phone by your computer. Briefly contemplating calling Kris, you decided against this astutely before walking up the stairs and into your bathroom, ridding yourself of the bikini top and shorts, and quickly hopping into the shower to rinse off. You had to wash yourself of the revolting phantom feeling of a mans hands on your neck, and bruises on your hips has he pounded into you from behind. 

You scrubbed every inch of your body obsessively to rid yourself of the feeling, thankful for the decision to utilize a tankless water heater system when you built this house, so you never ran out of hot water. Once you had scrubbed yourself practically raw, you stepped out of the shower, toweling yourself off completely dry, and applying lotion to your body and face. After feeling satisfied with your level of moisturization, you brushed your teeth, and rinsed out your mouth with copious amounts of mouthwash. You placed your Hans alongside the sides of the sink, leaning over the counter, and looking at yourself in the mirror. You grimaced at the scar above your left eye, that was left from the ashtray that was so lovingly chucked at your head, and the resulting surgery to help relieve some of the pressure from the resulting swelling and tissue damage. You looked at your veiny hands, which were covered in a plethora of scars- some from the night you punched the shower wall till you collapsed, and others from the beatings you dished out as your line of work saw fit. You examined the fresh scrapes upon your knuckles from earlier, which were honestly worse than you thought. You grabbed a wrap from your linen closet, wrapping your knuckles in the self stick bandaging so the wounds wouldn’t continue to open. 

You sighed, glancing one more time at your reflection, before returning to your bedroom. You were standing in the middle of the bedroom, staring at your bed, but you knew there would be no sleep for you tonight. You begrudgingly dragged yourself down the stairs to your living room, to where you at least could find some respite in the enormity of your view before you. You continued past the sofa, and ended up on the far end of your entertainment space. You always found it ironic how you designed this house to shock and awe those who enter, but never were really willing to let anyone over to see it, to enjoy it. As you poured yourself a tall glass of whiskey from your home bar, which was always fully stocked, you twirled the chain with more than the standard issue of dog tags adorned your chest, a stark reminder of those who were no longer here for you hanging from your neck, resting on your bare chest. You hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, just some boxers- and there you stood, staring out the windows of your living room towards the valley out your front door, hoping the glass of brown liquid will give you some solace.  

The sound of a dull thud is what brought you back to reality. As you tried to sit up, you groaned at the pounding coming from your head. You realized that you had passed out, and the empty bottles of whiskey in front of you were to blame. You went through two bottles, and weren’t even really sure how long you had been passed out for. You searched for your phone, only to vaguely remember that you had inadvertently drowned the damn thing in your hot tub, and it now rests in your office. You slowly sat up, trying not to puke up all the booze you had drank recently, grabbing your head when you were finally able to get yourself seated. You hand also throbbed as you flexed it around your forehead, and you slowly pulled it away, glancing at the slightly discolored bandage covering your knuckles. The empty glass that woke you sat on the floor by your bare foot, and you carefully moved in such a way that minimized how much throbbing in your head would occur, as you scooped it up and quietly set it on the table in front of you. “Fucking hell, when was the last time I was this hungover?”  You thought to yourself, before slowly rising up to gingerly walk yourself over to your office. 

“Right, left….oww…right…owwwww…left…owww owww, righ….fuck…my…life” You found yourself using all the strength and will power left in your body to move your legs. You finally reached the office, shuffling yourself over to the tufted leather chair, plopping down and reaching for your wireless device. You cautiously pressed the power button on the side, taking a deep sigh of relief when the phones screen turned on. You were greeted with a cacophony of phone alerts, which made your head pound even more. You glanced around, looking to see if you had left a decanter in the office. You noticed the glass skull decanter on the far counter, with enough liquid in it to accomplish your goal. You reached into your center desk drawer, pulling out a bottle of medicine, and grabbed enough medicine to take this damn migraine away, before tossing back the pills and swallowing them harshly. You pushed your chair over to the decanter, not wanting to chance walking again, grabbing the skull and taking a swig straight from the glass jar. You grimaced at the burn of alcohol, but as you leaned back, you slowly felt the pounding headache start to dull enough for you to barely function. You pushed yourself back over to the desk, grabbing your phone and going through your notifications. “Fuck!” You said to yourself, as you realized that you were out for a day and a half. 

Quite honestly, you were shocked that no one from work had reached out. You expected Kris to at least text and say something about your quarrel in your work office, but no one had said a word. You checked your emails, and set your phone down on its wireless charging pad, and carefully stood up, just as your stomach grumbled. “Yeah, yeah.” You told yourself as you shuffled out of the office, and to your kitchen. Rifling through the fridge you grabbed all the fixings for a small sandwich, something that had some protein and dairy, and something absorbent to sop up the remainder of the alcohol in your system.

You threw away the napkin that you made your sandwich on, feeling slightly relieved to have some food in your stomach.  You stood briefly in the middle of the kitchen, debating what to do with your day, looking up at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was just after 11 in the morning. You walked upstairs and back to your closet, grabbing an old t-shirt and your stained jeans, pulling them on before grabbing your pair of steel toe boots. Deciding now is as good a time as any to catch up on some of the work needed for one of your projects, you grabbed your favorite dirty baseball hat, putting it on backwards, and went back out towards the garage. As you set foot on the landing for the stairway down to the garage floor, all the lights came on, and you glanced over to the project in question. The car had been your first, one that your parents had bought for you as a graduation gift from technical college. You had always dreamed of opening your own car shop, helping others build their dream cars. But life happened. You very quickly realized that dream would not pay the bills, and despite your fathers advice, you enlisted in the Army. 

To say your family was not thrilled was an understatement. Your father had always told you he would never let you join the military- that it was just no place for woman. He didn’t mean it in a misogynistic way, he just knew that there was too much going on in the military and the cards would always be stacked against you. He knew. He had been in it for over 30 years. The very thing he didn’t want to have happen, happened. Your mother wouldn’t talk to you for the first year during basic and your first return home, when you found out that the were so upset that they sold your car. You argued over everything with them at that point- them not liking the tattoos, your decision to throw your education away for the military, the Army, all of it. It was all thrown on the table, and by the end of it you knew there would be no going back for your relationship with your parents. You packed your belongings, grabbed your olive green duffle, and went to the airport. You left without so much as a goodbye, and you haven’t talked to them since. You were sure that the have seen your name in various publications, and you know that your father had seen your quick rise through the ranks, because you were interviewed for practically every military magazine and newspaper there was, and he read them all. 

You hunted for years, and you spared no expense to find the car you first drove. You had finally found it rotting away in the back of someones garage, a plethora of colors as multiple panels had been replaced by the time you found it, showing you how abused it had been in the interim. You offered the guy an additional $3,000 just to ensure you would get it, and towed it out of the garage sight unseen. You didn’t care how rough it was, this was your first baby. Grabbing a remote that was Velcro’ed onto the side of your tool box, you pressed the power button, then play, and the sound system in the garage began playing music from your phone. 

You ran your hands over the front end of the car, your first Camaro, before grabbing the wrenches off of the cart next to it, and began tinkering away under the hood. You always wanted the cars to be mechanically sound before they looked good, because it never made sense to have a great looking car that couldn’t go anywhere. Working on cars had always been the one thing to calm your nerves, and let you vent your frustrations. Working out, all the sports you participated in, everything else never really compared to this. This was the most efficient way for you to clear your mind. 

With absolutely no concept of time, you honestly have no clue how long you were out in the garage working on the car. To you, it felt like you hadn’t even made a dent in the things that needed to be done to get it road worthy, but you had honestly worked through about half of the mechanical list you needed to do. You looked down at your oil covered arms, and the watch on your wrist told you all you needed to know. You had spent a solid 8 straight hours out here, tinkering and wrenching away on your car. Finally feeling some semblance of tired, you placed all your tools back onto the cart, before walking over to the sink beneath the stairs so you could wash all the grease and dirt off your arms before going inside. As you slipped your watch back over your wrist, it flashed the time again, 9:36pm, and you were emotionally and physically exhausted. 

You walked across the skyway that linked the garage and the house together, and stared out at the view before you. It was an exceptionally clear late summer night- and you could clearly see the Milky Way from any point on your property. The view and the massive mountains that shrouded your property in privacy were clearly reflected in the pond on your property, and it was a true sight to behold. You remind leaning against the glass wall for a few more moments, allowing yourself to soak in the relaxation the panorama provided, before continuing the walk into your house, up the stairs, and into your bedroom. You stripped yourself of the boots, the jeans and tee, before walking to the bathtub and drawing yourself a hot bath. You needed to soak just a little bit before finally retreating to the bed that was so desperately calling your name. 

As your aching form slowly submerged itself into the hot water, you took in a sharp breath as the pain from your hand shot up your arm. “Fuck.”  You looked down at your tattooed knuckles, seeing the deep purple bruising that had developed under your bandage from the other night. You really fucked your hand up, but honestly the pain was welcome. You were in a period of mild self destruction, where and emotions but pain, anger and sorrow weren’t really welcome. You were walking down a very, very slippery slope. And you were doing it alone, again. 

(CHAPTER 7)

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Twisted Wonderland Monster!AU: How to give a monster a bath

(Note: Inspiration came from remembering how birds and chinchillas take dust baths and imagining Rook or Ace doing that for their wings and feathers/fur 😂)

Given that Yuu is a human, it’s natural for them to require a bath or a shower (especially after being chased around the track during PE). Ramshackle does have a bath or shower available to them, so that’s no issue once the pipes are replaced and clean water is running through.

“No! I don’t wanna!!”

“Grim, you stink! Get in the bath right now!”

“No!!”

The problem is getting a certain chimera to take a bath.

Now, normally it’s not that difficult to get Grim to take a bath when he gets particularly muddy or sweaty because he hates feeling that yucky. But on some occasions when it's every other day or he's being particularly stubborn, it’s a fight and a half just getting him into the tub when the water is still nice and warm. Then they end up listening to him complain about the water being too cold!

So they reach out to a couple of the other monsters to try and figure out other ways to get Grim clean.

Aside from the suggestions for showers from some of them, there were a couple that suggested using the tub or sink given Grim's size. Epel even suggested using a wooden tub out in the yard, but Yuu quickly shot that down as it would give the chimera more chances to run away or get even dirtier.

Rook had suggested doing a dust bath to help dry out the oils and scrub the dirt from Grim’s fur. Yuu and Grim both wound up sneezing up a storm when he did a demonstration with his wings, and Vil scolded the harpy hunter for getting his uniform (and the dorm) dusty.

Vil recommended using bath salts to calm Grim down and make it more relaxing, and Yuu was allowed to take one or two to try based on which ones Grim liked the smell of.

Eventually Yuu learned a trick to get Grim to stay still whenever he’s being a menace: holding him by the scruff of the neck. Despite claiming he’s not a cat, he can still purr and hiss like one. So by that reason…

“I should have thought of this earlier,” Yuu uttered with a sigh as they scrubbed soap into Grim’s fur. A clothes peg was clamped down on the scruff of his neck as he grumbled, unable to move but muttering how Yuu would pay for this insubordination.

Yuu prepared for this inevitable fate and made sure to buy extra tuna cans for him as a peace offering.

(Note: If memory serves right, Grim in the game does take baths and showers, but I'd imagine as a chimera he'd be a bit more finicky about being forced to do so when he isn't completely dirty or muddy. Hence, the chaotic shenanigans of Yuu experiencing monster-cat ownership 🤣)