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radiorenjun · 4 years ago

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my first and last || huang renjun

¤ pairing : huang renjun x reader

¤ genre : fluff, slight crack, major angst, romance, drama, slight fantasy! au, slight coming of age!au, first love!au, slight 1880s!au, adventure!au, painter!renjun x street singer!y/n. runaway!au

¤ synopsis : Huang Renjun was born on the coldest day on earth, which causes his heart to be frozen solid, requiring a replacement. The makeshift Doctor, Madam Wendy, who provides midwifery and medical services to the poor and the desperate of Edinburgh, grafts a miniature cuckoo clock in order to save it.

However his newfound cuckoo clock heart was so fragile that it could end him in a terrible fate of death if he does not follow the three rules said doctor had provided for him. One of which was he must never fall in love. Do come and enter this adventure through Renjun’s eyes as he falls for a street singer who hates wearing glasses despite of her poor eyesight.

¤ warnings: character death, HEAVY angst, mentions of blood, loss of family member, reader has terrible eyesight and is painfully oblivious, Madam Wendy mentions about her abortion, maybe some swearing (do people even swear in the olden days?), historical inaccuracies is sexy, heartbreak, renjun is mentally exhausted, mentions of taking ones life (once), adults smoking, reader wears glasses at the end. shakespeare shaming because i have a grudge against that man. hISTORICAL INNACURACIES. Renjun gets slapped by Wendy once, renjun gets hypothermia. i feel like this was quite rushed idk

¤ word count : 29.2k

¤ heavily inspired by La Mécanique du cœur (the movie, not the novel because I’m not that cruel)

¤ playlist: my everything - nct u, instagram - dean, wayo - bang yedam, francis forever - mitski mitski, anxiete - pomme, faded in my last song - nct u, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, moi cest - camelia jordana, my first and last - nct dream, beautiful time - nct dream,

¤ a/n: special thanks to @lebrookestore for making this sexy header

‘Love. What does that feel like?' Renjun would always wonder.

As his paint brush strokes the canvas, eliciting a bright yellow mark on the object, Renjun continued to stare into his painting with a void of emotion. Whenever the occasional question 'what does it feel like to love or to be loved?' pops up in his mind, he would often furrow his brows and purse his lips in a small pout in confusion at the thought.

Renjun didn't know what it felt like to love, for his caretaker, Madame Wendy, had always told him since he was a young boy that 'love is the last thing you need in this world, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.' Renjun didn’t care much for the aspects of love. How can he fall in love when he doesn’t even know what love is? What does it feel like to feel love? How can you feel love?

If you take one small glance at Huang Renjun, you would instantly have the assumption that he was a rather cold-hearted, emotionless young boy. Eyes so icy cold and void of emotion, it could send shivers down your spine. Though, fortunately for everyone else, it was quite rare of the young boy to walk out of his home. Some might say that he would step out of his home ‘once in a blue moon’ or whenever the sun shone brightly over the old town, which was quite rare considering it had been raining frequently these past few months in Edinburgh, France.

However, what they didn’t know was that the reason behind his infrequent appearance was quite tragic. He was an unfortunate young boy, really. Only a few people have known this, but long long ago, a sudden harsh snowfall hit his town on the day he was born. It was recorded as the coldest day on earth, for the snow had frozen everything in its path including the poor boy’s heart. Quite literally, not figuratively.

Renjun’s biological mother had journeyed through the cold town to the house up the steeple. Rumors say, the quote unquote ‘witch’ of the town, who specialized in the medical department with her own unique ways that left doctors skeptical and poor. From what his caretaker had told him, she was holding her belly throughout the long journey as she tried her best to endure the cold without slipping on the frozen concrete. Muttering how if she could, she would’ve kept her child in her tummy safe and sound from the cruel world.

How she slipped and fell unconscious in front of his current caretaker’s house with her tears frozen on top of her cold cheeks, how she was brought in and taken in just in time to warm up to gain consciousness and go through the birth process. He remembered being told how the moment he was born, he had to undergo intense surgery immediately for he almost didn’t survive. He remembered being told that his heart had turned cold.

“Cold, not Gold, Renjun. A heart made of ice. As in cubes not cream,” as his caretaker would say.

Since donors weren't available at the time as it was already way past midnight, he needed surgery before his heart stopped beating under the hard exterior of the ice growing around his heart. Luckily for him, Madame Wendy had improvised one with her excellent expertise. She built a small clock the size of her palm that nearly covered his whole chest at the time. Considering she was known for being a witch in town, (even though she tried to explain a countless amount of times that she was a mere mechanic with a medical degree) she miraculously provided him with a fragile heart made from scratch.

However, the night of his birth was also the night his mother had decided to leave him with Madame Wendy, convinced that she would make a better mother for Renjun that she could ever have. It was quite a tragic tale. However, Renjun didn’t think much of it. Nor did he feel any sort of upsetting emotions like longing, curiosity and sadness. Why would he? He doesn’t even remember what his biological mother had looked like. He doesn’t know how to feel anymore other than the faux happiness his mother had taught him how to feel to ease the numbing feeling in his hollow, ticking heart held nothing but dust.

A heart that was purely made out of strong wood, cogs and screws. One that makes soft, calming tick tocks that goes along with the soft pitter patters of rain drops with every beat, one that makes cuckoo’s every time it’s arrow struck 12. One that needs winding every single day with a golden key his caretaker had provided him ever since he was born. One with ironically three rules that he should always follow on a day to day basis.

“Recite those rules once again, Renjun,” she ordered as she buttons up her adoptive child’s white shirt up to his neck. “Do I have to? I’ve been reciting this for years now,” Renjun would whine, looking down at his mother’s loving hands as she flicked her forehead softly with a face void of emotion. “It’s for your own good, Renjun. I can’t have you forgetting something this important, you know very well that your life depends on these three rules.” She tugged on the collar of her child’s shirt down.

“Before I let you run off to town with me, I prefer that your heart would be much stronger,” she swiped her fingers through Renjun’s hair, swefting it to the side to make it neat. “Every beat of your heart is a minor miracle. You’re a fragile piece of work, far more fragile than glass,” the older woman explained, laying her hands on the boy’s shoulder with a grim expression. “I know,” Renjun replied with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders to release tension in his body.

He sighed again, the young boy looked up at the ceiling to avoid his mother’s cold stare. “Firstly, never touch the hands of my heart,” he began, letting out an annoyed sigh as he felt his mother tucking his small key into the pocket sewed on his chest. “Yes, what else?” Madame Wendy asked, kneeling down to look at the child in the eye. “Keep your temper under control,” they recited in unison with the same emotionless tone.

“And the last one?”

“Whatever I do, I must never ever fall in love.”

“Indeed, that’s why I’m so scared of letting you into town. You haven’t experienced love yet so far in your life, it is very important that you stay that way,” she said, standing up on her feet as her hand returned to Renjun’s shoulder. “I know,” he mumbled once again, looking up at his caretaker’s eyes as if to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening a total hundred percent to what she was saying. “It could be the very death of you, Renjun. Your fragile heart won’t be able to stand the emotional, mental and physical shock provoked with the feeling of love,” she explained once again, a worried expression glossing over her face.

“I know, I know. You tell me that almost everyday,” he muttered, playing with the small buttons on the clock that is his own heart. “My heart is not a toy, therefore it is not to be played with.” he almost rolled his eyes at the older woman, feeling her smack his hand away from his heart softly. “It is something that I want you to take seriously, Renjun,” she hissed, eyeing the small mechanic artwork on the boy’s chest. “How can I even fall in love when I don’t know anything about love?”

To Renjun, today was like any other day of the year. The sun shining brightly against his skin, the cloudy grey sky accenting the sky’s beauty. His hair gelled to the side to reveal some of his forehead and leaving a few strands of his hair to tickle his skin perfectly, his calloused hand gripping his 60 x 90 cm canvas and his large box of acrylic paints to his side, his favorite paintbrush hanging against the skin in between his ear and his fluffy short hair.

Spinning one of his smaller paint brushes in his free hand, right between his fingers as he walked down the sidewalk of his home town, trying to find a spot to sit and paint. It was his birthday recently, so his mother had delightfully just bought a fresh new set of acrylic paints, considering he finished them on his last painting which was the majestic dove fountain in the middle of the town less than a month ago.

Renjun was only ten years old when his caretaker took him out to wander around town, which was on his birthday. It was then when Renjun was hitting the age of thirteen when his caretaker’s worry lessened when she saw that her child was nowhere to the point of Cupid’s next target. Therefore those annual town visits turned into monthly visits (under his caretaker’s supervision, of course) and when Renjun had turned thirteen years old, he had shown an interest in painting and drawing in his free time while Madame Wendy was working with a patient.

However, love can strike at any moment. And by the time Renjun became sixteen years old, he was finally allowed to venture into the town himself to paint landscapes and buy more art supplies at least once a week with a 5-6 PM curfew. Nothing more, nothing less. Cupid was cunning, therefore she believed that this was the best she could do. Considering he was a teenager, she couldn’t protect him as easily as she could back when he was still an infant. And that was what she had feared the most in her life.

Renjun sighed heavily, looking around with emotionless eyes, a cold frown forming upon his lips as he leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow supporting on his thigh and his other free hand holding the canvas on top of his legs. He wondered if there was more to life than work and oil paints, eyes wandering on the busy streets filled with the latest carriages and the latest transportation vehicles. He felt as if his life had gone by boring and aimless without knowing how to express his emotions properly. Is this what life has come to in his 16 years of living?

16 years of being almost completely isolated from this town without knowing what his caretaker was so worried about. Madam Wendy had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Renjun had witnessed love from time to time in the streets, watching a couple of different genders walking down the streets with loving expressions on their faces. Renjun could not decipher why you would be feeling such emotions. He had been venturing around town freely with his strict curfews for almost four months now. And all he’s done so far is wander around looking for something interesting to be his next muse or visit the local library to read books.

One of the books Renjun was absolutely fascinated on reading was this book the librarian had recommended to him on his first visit, ‘The Great Expectations’ by Charles Dickens. It was a small story of a young boy named Pip who went through amazing life changing experiences and going through hardships with his rather abusive sister, his blacksmith mentor and falling in love as well with a girl named Estella. (He would always snicker whenever she comes up in a scene as her adoptive parent, Ms Havisham, ironically reminded him too much of Madam Wendy)

He often wondered if Madam Wendy’s strong dislike towards the aspects of love was merely because of his fragile condition or was it because of something deeper? However, looking back at when he found his caretaker’s family albums which were mainly pictures of her winning awards and bragging about her medical degree, he highly doubts it. (It was still fun to imagine theories while it lasted, though!)

“Ms Havisham stares at Pip coldly, and murmurs to the girl at her side: ‘Break his heart, Estella. Break his heart!’” Renjun read, his eyes moving as he read the brief summary at the back of his book. Looking down at the cuckoo clock heart hidden under his cardigan, he clicked his tongue before chuckling bitterly to himself. “‘Break his heart’, huh? What utter bonkers, you can’t break someone’s heart. That isn’t physically possible,” he shook his head in amusement, placing his book on top of the box of acrylic paints beside him.

Just as he was about to leave and head back home, a peculiar merry tune reached his ears, causing Renjun to pause in his step, looking around to find the source with furrowed brows. If this was like those small street cat sketches he would draw in his free time, it would seem like his ears perked up in slight interest. The merry tune turned on a bright spark inside of the young boy’s chest, curiosity growing in his veins at the tune he has never heard before. It was as if the angels above had descended to the earth while playing a symphony of flutes and harmonicas, making soft high pitched catchy tunes in the air.

Renjun felt entranced by the music, it was almost as if it was pulling him- beckoning him to come towards it, towards its source. It was as if his feet had a mind of his own as he fought with his own rational thoughts to either go back home or find the source of the beautiful merry tune. He couldn't help but walk to where it's coming from, curious of who was making such a wonderful tune. Sooner than later, he found himself walking down a small alley that led him into a steep staircase that led him to another part of his town. And with every step he took, the music grew louder and louder. Soon, finding light at the end to see the small part of town he rarely visits.

He put his palm on the dirty brick wall, ignoring the uncomfortable texture against his skin, head poking out as he tried to decipher where the majestic music was coming from. Squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight for the staircase was dim enough to be mistaken for a tunnel with the broken rooftops covering the ceiling, he took a step forward. His eyes widening slightly in awe as he watched a young man his age push away a stack of crates to reveal the true source of music.

A young girl, who Renjun figures is around his age, was cranking up a barrel organ right in front of the fountain. A hand going in circular motions on the crank, twisting the lever as she pulls it clockwise. The hand on her hip was soon placed on her chest when the music went on, clearing her throat softly as she began to sing along and harmonize with the melody.

Renjun stood still in his place, baffled at the daunting beauty presented before him. The girl standing a few meters away from him was singing along merrily to the tune of the phonograph record, cranking up the lever as the other townsfolk that was walking by began to gather around her, enjoying the harmony that goes along with her soothing voice and symphony of flutes and harmonicas being produced by the portable barrel organ.

As he sat down on the last step of the staircase to listen from afar, he couldn't help but pay close attention to the lyrics coming out of her lips. His paintbrush spinning in between his fingers as his mind focused on the words of the intro, smiling idly as he began to understand the words she was trying to convey.

My vision's not quite right

But glasses make me look a sight

Enough to give the world a fright, like a sprite wearing specs

Renjun couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion. 'A sprite wearing specs? What the hell was that supposed to mean?' he pondered to himself as he found himself sitting at the last step of the staircase, leaning his white canvas against the dusty brick walls before putting his palm against his cheek, his elbow supported right above his knees as he gazed in awe at the little singer.

His pupils never moved away from the young girl who began to twirl around with her hands on her hips. And that girl was you. He watched as you danced and sang as if you were in your own little world, almost clumsily bumping into an old man carrying two heavy wooden crates in his arms. He chuckled at the sight, a soft smile stretching across his face as he watched the girl apologize for almost bumping into him, making Renjun realise that she might have some sort of blurred vision with how she was squinting at the older man.

‘Or she might just be an idiot,’ Renjun thought with a deadpan expression, laying his chin on his hand as he let out a soft sigh. Renjun had been living in this town all his life, despite the fact that he rarely goes out of his own home. He’s sure that no one in this town would blast such a merry tune so shamelessly in public while dancing and singing around like a fool expressing themselves. And it was quite rare for someone to walk around with a barrel organ out of nowhere.

The music stopped midway when you let out a small yelp and clumsily tripped over your own feet as you turned to your barrel organ when the lever stopped turning, eliciting a soft giggle from Renjun. You let out a soft grunt, huffing as you ignored the slightly concerned looks of your audience. You stood up quickly, hands coming up to brush off the dust and debris off your skirt, tugging on your suspenders as you attempted to ignore the embarrassed red tint on your own cheeks as you tried to play it off as cool.

Renjun couldn't help but giggle at the sight, his cold emotionless expression morphing into one filled with the slightest bit of amusement. Though, it quite took Renjun aback when he saw you turn your head from your barrel organ to his figure sitting a few meters away from where you were standing, turning your head rapidly to find the source, raising a brow when your eyes met Renjun's. He stopped laughing when your eyes met briefly, eyes widening in shock as he began to fidget in his place as you began to waddle over to him, dragging your barrel organ with you.

Wait, were you going over to talk to him? How did you even acknowledge his existence? Did you hear him snicker at your silly antics? Even if you did, how could you even hear him with how busy your surroundings were?

You stood before him with hands on your hips, lips pursed at him. "What were you laughing at?" you asked, a slight pout adorning on your lips as you looked down at the boy who raised his brow. Renjun felt his words pile up in his throat, trying to think of something to say without offending or upsetting the girl before him, as his Seulgi and Irene (his caretaker’s weekly patients) had always told him that ‘once you anger a feisty lady, there’s no turning back!’.

Now that you were standing only a few inches away from him, he couldn’t help but take a small moment to observe your appearance more clearly. Renjun's eyes couldn't help but wander towards your figure, examining your facial features in full detail. The way the sunlight reflected upon your pupils, how your figure stood out that he could barely decipher that other people were present around them. The way your dress framed your body, lips pursed with a slight pout, eyelids fluttering softly as you blinked at him as you were waiting for a response. Renjun wondered how someone could look this entrancing.

"Hello? Are you listening to me?!"

Renjun blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. His mouth opening as his pupils went back up to catch the intense glare that the girl in front of him was sending. He closed his mouth when he realized he didn't know what to say in response, his mind turning blank when he saw you quirked one of your eyebrows up suspiciously. "I don't- How can you even hear me laugh from such a distance?" Renjun's voice faltered nervously, trying to avoid your question, furrowing his brows.

Your expression lightened slightly at the nervous boy, a bright smile of your own stretching across her face. "Out of all of my five senses, my hearing has always been the best considering I don't rely much on my eyes," you shrugged, sitting beside him on the last step of the stairs. Stretching your legs out as you used your palms to smoothen your dress before crossing your arms on your thighs and turning your head to look at the boy. "I saw you staring at me from a distance, was I that good?" you smirked, raising a brow.

“You saw me? I thought you said you can’t rely on your eyes that much?” he asked in a weak attempt to dodge your question once again. “I lied, some lady told me that you were staring at me even after this old thing gave up on me,” you huffed, kicking your foot lightly at the old barrel organ in front of you. “Stop dodging my question. I don’t want to assume that you were stalking me or something,” you turned your head back to the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, wiggling the finger in front of his face teasingly.

Renjun bit the inside of his cheek, a scowl forming on his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Don't get too cocky, I was just perplexed. I was baffled to see someone playing such a merry tune so shamelessly in this lousy, depressing town," he responded with a click of his tongue. "How so?" you asked, tilting your head in confusion at the boy before looking around at your surroundings. “This town doesn’t look that depressing to me. Just needed some lighting up, that’s all,” your positivity elicited another scoff from the boy.

Renjun turned to you, brows furrowed slightly, confused as to how you couldn’t see how this town was the literal epitome of the Great Depression itself. "You're not from here, are you? Come to think of it, I've never seen you around here before." Renjun asked with a curious expression, watching as a cheeky grin formed across your face. "You got me there." You let out a soft chuckle, shrugging shamelessly before gazing up at the cloudy grey sky.

"My parents and I just moved in today. They told me to run off and go dilly dally-ing around town so as to not bother them as they set up the whole place,” you explained, nodding towards your barrel organ. “I think I made a great first impression as the new lady in town, don’t you think?” you asked, giving him a sweet smile, ignoring how Renjun gave you an affirming shake of his head to say ‘no’ bluntly. “Well I definitely knocked your socks off, didn’t I? That’s enough for me!” you exclaimed brightly, clasping your hands together.

“You don’t even know me. I don’t even know you. And how would you know if I was moved by your oh-so-stupendous actions?” Renjun rolled his eyes sarcastically, gripping his canvas tightly as he spoke, looking down at his shoes. He had never spoken to someone his age before without being forced by his caretaker or having to meet them for the first time at Madam Wendy’s home. It was quite new for him to be talking to a lady as well, for most of them were too shy to even talk to the young lad for his cold glare struck shivers down their spine.

“The sound of your laugh was enough to convince me that my actions were indeed stupendous, good sir!” you shot back confidently, a proud smile on your face as you placed your hands on your knees. “Oh bother,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes once again at you, ignoring how the confusion he felt when the cogs and gears of his heart were speeding up in action. “I’m Y/n, by the way! It’s good to know I made a friend on my first day in Edinburgh. Perhaps my mini shameless performance wasn’t entirely fruitless!” you reached your hand out, gesturing for him to shake it.

Renjun looked at your hand for a brief moment, pupils gazing back up at your happy expression, raising a brow at you before sighing heavily. He pulled his hand from his canvas before leaning over to shake your hand gently, “Renjun. Huang Renjun,” he introduced, his tone emotionless. Your hand was warm and soft unlike his own dry ones. Your hand had small specks of dust, which he assumed were from the dusty lever of the barrel organ while his own was covered with dry acrylic paint from his previously wet canvas.

Upon the warm feeling surging through his body at the touch, he felt the tiny mechanical bird inside of his cuckoo clock heart burst out from his clock in response when his skin touched yours, the sharp wooden beak hitting the fabric of his jacket alarmingly. Thus making a small, almost inaudible ‘cuckoo’ that only Renjun (fortunately) heard.

"It’s lovely to be your acquaintance, Huang Renjun. Though, I must warn you, I might not be here for long. My family has been travelling from town to town for years, searching for something.” You told him, pulling your hand back to your side with a small shrug. “Searching? Searching for what exactly?” Renjun asked, watching your expression turned unreadable. You shrugged, leaning your cheek against your palm, your elbow supporting on your leg. “That’s the thing! I’m not quite sure, they won’t tell me.”

“A treasure chest, perhaps?” Renjun suggested, putting a hand on his chin in thought. “Perhaps so. Though, I’m searching for something myself, as well. I haven't found it yet and I doubt I'm going to find it here." you sighed simply, leaning your head up to gaze at the cloudy sky. Eyes watching as the sun was barely visible due to the thick grey clouds layering over it, signalling that it might rain soon.

"Well, what are you searching for exactly? Treasure? Money? Wealth is considered as a greedy sin in this town, so I don't think this is some place where you can find those." Renjun hummed, his hand going back to gripping his canvas as he felt the cogs and gears in his heart working faster than usual. Hell, he didn't know why he was so curious about this. This was none of his business, after all. This was your problem, why was he so keen on keeping the conversation going? Why was he so intrigued in a young foreign singer his age he’s just met?

You shook your head, sucking your lips into your mouth before pulling your bottom lip out in a pout. "I’m not a fool, Renjun. I'm not really interested in wealth or fortune. Though, telling you about my life goal appears to be too intimate for us, don’t you think? We just met after all. So all that I can say at the moment that what I’m searching for is for me to know and for you to find out," you send him a teasing smile, causing Renjun to frown and roll his eyes in annoyance, leaning back slightly before sending you a deadpan expression,

"Does your extravagant search involve spectacles? You might look like you might need them, I know someone that could handle that," he mused, his lips quirking up into a teasing smirk, causing a frown to display on your face. A dead panned expression morphing on to your facial features. "I may have really terrible eyesight, but that isn't a way to talk to a lady, Renjun." you pressed your lips on to a thin line, rolling your eyes at the boy as you let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head.

"Besides, I look terrible in them. As I said in my song, which I'm sure like all the other folks in this world that doesn't pay attention to the message I was trying to convey in my lyrics, it-"

"It makes quite a sight, enough to give the world a fright like a sprite wearing specs?"

You furrowed your brows as Renjun let out a sheepish smile with a raise of his eyebrow, teasing you as a baffled expression laid upon your features at his words. "You were saying, Y/n?" he mused, waving his hand, gesturing for you to continue with your words. Watching as your baffled expression morphed into an amused one. “Oh, that was quite charming of you, Huang,” you shot back with a flirty grin, causing the ticking of his heart to quicken against his chest, sending him small jolts of pain which he attempted to conceal with small chuckles.

"I’m surprised you were paying attention to my lyrics instead of enjoying my song like a normal human being," you huffed, pushing his face away with your palm against the side of his face, eliciting a small laugh from the boy beside you. "You really shouldn't play games with your sight though. They say a blurry vision will leave you in the dark," Renjun recited, remembering the words his caretaker had always said to him about the patients who come in their quarters using spectacles or glasses.

You shrugged innocently. "I prefer life all a blur than to look horrendous for a living. You and your pretty face wouldn't understand. Also, I tend to forget my glasses frequently despite the fact that my parents’ constant nagging to bring them around," you , causing Renjun's jaw to drop at your bold statement. He has heard compliments about his dashing looks ever since he was a young boy from Madam Wendy’s relatives but ‘pretty’ wasn’t one of them, he should’ve brushed the compliment off and focus on the context of your words and stop acting as if he hadn’t been complimented before.

But however, something about this felt peculiarly different than the times where his family complimented him on his charming looks.

"Pretty? I haven’t heard that one before," Renjun spoke rather hesitantly, still quite bewildered that a woman his age had shamelessly complimented on his looks to his face. Yet again, said woman has a terrible eyesight so he couldn't be too sure that it was a compliment. You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his softly. "That’s the only thing you got out of my words? Are you an insecure lad, Huang?" you chuckled, giving him a slightly sheepish smile. “Are you sure you don’t need spectacles?” Renjun snapped back.

"I’m just pushing your buttons! I assure you that even without my glasses. I can confirm that you are quite an attractive young man, and that’s saying something considering I’ve been travelling here and there for most of my life. I'm not as blind as a bat, you know." you giggled, clicking your tongue before adding on. "Besides, it won't make much of a difference, really. Even with or without glasses, I still see a very pretty boy," you joked, laughing lightly.

“Out of all the compliments you could’ve chosen, you decided upon the word ‘pretty’? Sounds quite feminine, don’t you think?” he asked, leaning his head to the side, looking at you with half lidded eyes. He realised that he didn’t mind being called pretty, he didn’t mind being complimented by you. Despite the fact that you two had just met. But he couldn’t help but wonder why you had decided to choose ‘pretty’ instead of the other synonyms of ‘attractive’.

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I think pretty can be used for anything. It’s just a word after all, why do things have to be differentiated by the littlest of things? It’s just a synonym of ‘beautiful’,” you shrugged, watching as small raindrops started to pour down from the cloudy grey sky, reaching your hand out to feel the water drops hitting and wetting your skin slowly. Renjun raised his brow at you, perplexed at how you could be so nonchalant about your terrible eyesight considering his caretaker would endlessly bicker until he was forced to use spectacles until his eyes magically got better.

"What's that odd pitter patter?" you mumbled, snapping Renjun out of his thoughts once again. His eyes widened when he realised that the sound of his clock heart ticking had increased, blending well with the sound of the rain as water began to hit the surface of the concrete. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone other than close relatives about his fragile condition, so his anxiety spiked when you turned to look at him, expecting an answer. "It's the rain." Renjun replied after a moment, gulping down his nerves before turning to you.

"Do you like the rain?" Renjun asked, gulping afterwards when he realised how your eyes softly bore into his with an unreadable expression, the eye contact making Renjun’s clock heart steam up a bit as the gears worked even faster than before. Sighing as you felt the cold breeze that comes with the rain send goosebumps across your skin, you rubbed your arms before looking back to the pouring rain. You shook your head, "getting wet? Not really."

"But the sound it makes? Yes. It always reminded me of how I used to play in the rain back when I was still in elementary school," you nodded with a soft smile.

The sound of the church bell pierced your ears, making Renjun’s eyes go wide when he realised that the clock had struck 6 pm. Quickly, he got up to his feet, his brushes almost slipping out of his fingers as he stumbled to get onto his feet. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him in confusion, furrowing your brows at the boy as he gulped nervously. “I’m fine, I shouldn’t be out this late,” Renjun shook his head, biting his lip nervously when he realized that the rain wasn’t going to halt anytime soon.

“I don’t think the rain is stopping anytime soon, I suggest you wait here momentarily if you don’t want to catch a cold,” you commented, standing up as well as you stretched your hand out once again to feel the raindrops hitting your palm, smiling softly at the nostalgic feeling that came with it. He clicked his tongue, cursing at himself for letting his curiosity get the best of him as he contemplated on running all the way back home soaking wet. He wouldn’t want to lose his new found freedom.

Muttering a small curse under his breath, he stuck his book under his canvas before hovering it over his head. “Are you going to run? It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” you exclaimed, eyes growing wide when you turned your head to see him taking a deep breath. “Pardon me, unlike you, I have curfews. My caretaker would have my head if I don’t go back home soon,” Renjun deadpanned, rolling his sleeves out as he felt shivers down his spine when the cold wind blew against his skin.

Right before Renjun was about to take a step into the pouring rain, you grabbed on the sleeve of his shirt, holding him back. “Wait, when can we see each other again?” you asked, eyes boring holes into the back of his head. He paused, his cuckoo clock heart ticking loudly against his chest at the small action. He slowly turned back to you, furrowing his brows as he felt the small machine heat up against his skin, causing him to wince slightly. Noticing his small reaction, you quickly dropped your hand, apologizing abruptly before clasping your hands before your hand.

“It’s just- I haven’t been in this town for very long and I really need a friend beside me. I’m not quite fond of being alone. I know we just met, but I hope that we could be acquaintances at least?” you grinned up, your bright smile sending ominous effects to his heart as he took a moment to process your words. Renjun started at your bright expression, small steam coming out continuously from his mechanical heart as the seconds went by. His eyes dart from the rain before back to your figure standing right in front of him, waiting for his answer.

‘Acquaintances?’

Renjun has never had friends before. His caretaker would introduce him to her client’s children from time to time but (luckily for Madame Wendy) he had never shown an interest in making colleagues. But for some reason, something inside him was pulling him to say yes to you. Something inside of him wanted him to try and get to know you even more. It felt wrong. It felt very wrong. But yet again, it felt so right.

Biting his lip, he gave you a soft smile.

“I have faith that we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

“I just think it’s quite preposterous!” you exclaimed as you laid down against the smooth surface of the fountain basin. Renjun chuckled, pressing his paintbrush gently against his wooden palette to get bits of his white paint to add more details to his painting.

It's been a couple months since the day you met, and since then, you two have been growing closer by the day. Your friendship blossomed as the weeks went by. Madam Wendy wasn’t very fond when Renjun came home soaking wet after curfew, but she excused his actions when he told her that he just lost track of time at the library once again. A rare occurrence but it still happens from time to time, and considering Renjun barely lies to his caretaker, she believed him when he told her so.

Every once a week, the two of you would meet up on the same exact spot as the day you first laid eyes on each other. Renjun assumed that your house was closer considering you were always there first, twisting the crank of your barrel organ, kicking your feet as you sat on the fountain base to wait for him to arrive in your usual dark magenta dress (which he assumed to be the uniform of the school you were attending). The two of you would always walk around town, searching for spots to relax yourselves and talk about random things as you watch Renjun paint whatever that catches his eye. Overall enjoying each other’s company as if the two of you were in your own personal little bubble.

“What’s so preposterous about the infamous Romeo and Juliet, exactly?” Renjun asked, chuckling as he dabbed the brush on the canvas, blending the colours of the sky on his artwork. You clasped your hands together, huffing as you scoffed at him. “Ever since my school made us all read Romeo and Juliet for the next literature exam, I just realise how horrible this trope is,” you tossed your book to the floor with a click of your tongue, hopping off of the fountain to walk closer to Renjun.

“Do explain why you think so,” Renjun giggled, watching you dip your finger against the white paint on his palette and kneeling down to smear it against the title on the front cover of your book with a frown on your face. “Why are the females always quote unquote ‘damsels in distress’? It’s very misogynistic if you ask me!” you tsked, grabbing your book and leaning forward to show Renjun the front cover of the book. “Mister Shakespeare was truly a legendary fellow to create a piece of writing this famous, but why use poor unsuspecting 14 year old Romeo and Juliet as the female protagonist?” you complained.

“Why couldn’t it be ‘Romeo romeo, let down your hair!’ instead of ‘romeo romeo, where art thou?” It seems a bit more fair to me,” you joked, causing Renjun to furrow his brows at you. “It might be quite improper for a boy to have tremendously long hair, y/n,” he had to lay the back of his hand against his chest in an attempt to calm down his mechanic heart, feeling it heat up against his skin as he noticed how close the proximity between you were. You scoffed at the boy before you, standing up straight and letting the book hand in between your fingers.

Putting your hands on your hips, you walked in front of him, covering his view of the town. “Well it doesn’t give Mister Shakespeare a reason to give the story an unhappy ending. The despair it brings when you found out they both died in the end? Absolutely preposterous, why would anyone like books with such unhappy endings?” you added on, poking your book with a scrunched up expression, bringing a smile upon Renjun’s lips as he found your figure poking the book in your hands as endearing as watching an small innocent child playing with their own food.

He sucked in his lip, taking a moment to admire your beautiful form. The gears in his mechanical clock worked faster as his eyes wandered to your slightly pouting soft lips, wondering how soft it would feel against his own. He cleared his throat when he felt a sharp pain scorching through his chest when he realised he was starting to imagine things, patting his chest softly as he tried to bite back a smile.

“Maybe you just haven’t read true masterpieces,” Renjun responded after a pregnant pause, opening his little bag and pulling out the novel he’s been obsessed with for the past few months, placing it in your palms. “Read this, you can thank me later,” Renjun smiled, patting the book in your hands with a light chuckle, looking up into your eyes for a brief moment before looking back at his canvas. For he feared that if he stared into them any longer, he would simply get lost in your eyes for ages, wincing silently when his chest started to ache.

“‘The Great Expectations’? This sounds like those tedious books my parents keep on their shelf,” you raised your brow, sitting down on the fountain again as you began to observe the book in your palms, squinting your eyes at the summary written at the back cover of the book. “‘Break his heart, Estella! Break his heart!’ That sounds so cruel of her to break an innocent boy’s heart,” you frowned, looking up at your friend with the adorable frown Renjun came to endear.

Renjun laughed, shrugging simply as he went back to painting. His fingers twitching against the brush as he coloured white clouds on his piece, feeling your eyes curiously on his content form. “You didn’t want the female protagonist to be the damsel in distress, did you? I just simply gave you what you asked for,” Renjun shrugged, feeling his heart do somersaults as you let out a loud huff of breath, scooching closer towards him so you can begin reading the book. “I suppose so,” you muttered under your breath.

“Do you carry books like this around with you as you paint or are you a magician who can pull out rabbits out of that bag of yours as well?” you asked jokingly, pulling the cover open and flipping to the first page. “I-Wait hold on, a magician as well?” he furrowed his brows at you, turning his head towards you and leaning his head to the side in confusion. You shot your head up, giving him a bright expression as you nodded eagerly.

“You might have half of the town convinced that you’re some cold hearted teenager living with the ‘witch’ or the makeshift doctor, as you would like to say, but you can’t fool me, mister! We may have known each other for less than a few months but I know for a fact that you are a magician!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, wiggling your index finger around, your fingertip hovering right above his nose before poking it with a small ‘boop; coming from your mouth.

He furrowed his brows, gently pushing your hand away from his face with a raised brow. “Do you mind explaining why you have come to that conclusion?” Renjun asked, an amused expression spreading across his features as he dropped his brush into the cup of water set right beside him before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning back slightly. You grinned, “you’re one of the few people I’ve ever known who can paint so majestically. Have you seen your own paintings, Mister Huang Renjun?” you exclaimed, giving him a wide smile as you threw your arms up in the air.

He chuckled, adjusting the beret on top of his head. “You don’t know many people, y/n,” he commented with a small smirk on his lips. “Let me finish before I usurp you, Huang,” you frowned, furrowing your brows and squinting your eyes threateningly at him. “I doubt that you even know what usurped means,” Renjun chuckled, shaking his head profusely at you. “Don’t doubt my low vocabulary, Renjun,” you crossed your hands, letting his book lay on your lap as he let out a soft laugh.

“Alright, what are you going to usurp me from exactly?” he asked smugly, raising a brow at you. “That’s not the point of this conversation, what I’m saying is that you and your aesthetically pleasing art skills are magical!” you shot back in a snappy tone, avoiding the fact that you used a word that you don’t entirely know the meaning of. (considering you only heard it from your mother when she was talking to someone on the phone every morning whenever your father was off at work)

He swore he could feel the ticking of his tock stop for a few seconds at your words. “Pardon?” he spluttered, putting his hand on his chest once again as he felt the gears in his cuckoo clock turn rapidly against his chest. “The way you carefully apply to each and every detail on every crevice of your canvas is like magic, the way you know how much paint you should apply to get just the right colours and the way you focus on shading or blending the paints together to achieve the small shadows or to adjust the lighting of the painting is just-”

You paused before letting out a loud groan, “superb! I can’t even find the words on how to explain your magical abilities, the simplest way I can put it in my own way is that you are equivalent to a magician!” you waved your hands around at the canvas in front of the two of you, your eyes going wide in awe as you stared at the half finished piece as if it was the first time you had seen a rare jewel in person.

Renjun’s jaw dropped as he couldn’t find the words to express how flustered he felt. However, the way his cuckoo clock began to steam up was another completely different thing. He couldn’t help but look down shy at his own paint stained hands, wondering how you could find awe in something as messy as his artwork. “And it is an absolute crime knowing that you aren’t some kind of world wide painter, your paintings are absolutely beautiful!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him as Renjun stared wordlessly into your eyes.

He couldn’t help but notice how close you have gotten when you began on your unceremonious ramble about his art skills, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting up your eyes and down to your plump lips. Gulping silently, he scooched back a little bit, gripping the sleeves of his button up shirt tightly as he tried to take the ticking of his heart against his ears, a fuzzy feeling overcoming the slight jolting pain in his chest as he did so.

He watched your eyes go wide at his actions, realizing that you moved too far. “Oh crumbs!” you exclaimed, taking a large step back as you realised the close proximity between you attracted attention from the people around you, eyes watching you like a hawk. Some held disgust to see two teenagers of the opposite gender oh-so-close to each other as if they were going to share a sweet kiss. Some held awe in them, adoring the sight of the two flustered beings cozying up to each other like that. Some held shock as they had never seen the mysterious cold hearted boy who lived in the little house on the steeple that close to someone before.

“I’m so so sorry!” you rambled, feeling your chest swell up as you grew flustered by your own actions. “I didn’t mean to get over excited! It’s just that I was so happy to talk about your art knowing how you don’t think much of it but I just really adore your art and the way you paint- oh god that sounds very inappropriate of me to say. What I meant was-” your short nervous ramblings were cut off when you heard Renjun’s laughter filling your ears, the angelic sound sending warm feelings into your heart.

“Pardon me for laughing, but that really caught me off guard,” he threw his head back laughing, his cheeks flushing red from laughing too much as he held his stomach, wiping his tears afterward. Your jaw dropped at his amused laughter, embarrassment overcoming your nerves as you huffed angrily at him. “You absolute jerk, I thought I did something wrong and invaded your personal space or made you uncomfortable!” you exclaimed, putting your hands on your hips angrily, only eliciting even more laughter from the sweet boy.

“It’s really endearing that you find my art that interesting, you really did catch me off guard with your little outburst,” he chuckled, lifting his beret off of his head before running his free hand over his hair, putting the beret back on his head afterwards. You couldn’t deny how pretty he looked with that beret, but of course, you weren’t going to admit it (again) for the sake of your own pride. “I was just expressing my opinions like a normal person, you didn’t have to laugh at me like that, you know,” you crossed your arms against your chest.

“I wasn’t laughing at your outburst, I can promise you that!” he exclaimed, shaking his head at you, ignoring the searing pain in his chest as he stared lovingly at you. You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t help but notice the slightly sad glint on his pupils, but you chose not to ask about it, focusing on the topic at hand. “Then what were you laughing at exactly, Huang Renjun?” you asked, furrowing your brows at the brown haired boy, who smiled sweetly at you. Leaning his chin against his palm, elbow supported on his thigh.

“I couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet you looked while talking about the things I do in front of you as if I were moving the sun and moon with my own bare hands.”

“You know you have a lovely smile.”

Renjun looked up from his book in alarm, eyes wide at your sudden bluntness. “Excuse me?” he coughed, releasing one hand from the book cover to lay it against the rough surface of his clock heart hidden underneath his coat. “I really like your smile,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, putting the Great Expectations book on the desk you were sitting before laying your hands over the other, placing your chin on top of them before gazing up at him with an innocent shrug. “You’re being quite expressive today,” Renjun chuckled, looking at you with a perplexed expression, his brows furrowed as he kept his hand against his heart, suppressing the little bird inside from letting out a loud ‘cuckoo!’.

“I don’t like to lie, you know that, Renjun,” you pouted, raising your head up to give him a knowing look. Sitting up straight, Renjun shot you a boyish smile, looking back down at his book. “Why, thank you. That’s quite flattering,” Renjun chuckled, burying his nose in his book in a futile attempt to hide how flustered he felt. Putting the back of his hand against his mouth, he coughed to clear his throat before removing his hand and putting it on his nape to scratch on it nervously. “How are you liking the book so far?”

Renjun cringed at the slight waver in his tone, biting back his tongue as he heard you let out a small hum. “So far, it’s pretty engrossing. It perfectly depicts the image of a young male protagonist losing his child-like innocence through heartbreak and hardship,” you clicked your tongue, folding the corner of the page you were reading before flipping through the other pages to see how many you have left to read. “A compelling coming of age story,” you nodded with a slight shrug.

“Though, I still don’t understand why you recommended me this book,” you closed the book and placed it back down on the desk, furrowing your brows in curiosity. Renjun gave you a sheepish grin, shrugging as he went back to his own book before replying with a, “you’ll find out once you finish the book,” under his breath. You huffed in response, leaning your forehead against the hardcover of the book, letting out a dramatic sigh. He let out a silent smile, adjusting his glasses as he continued to read the last paragraph of his own book.

Your eyes glared holes into his head as if he was going to tell you if you glared at him long enough, but you realised that he was back into his own little world now that he was fully immersed into the plot. Your eyes wandered back to the canvas on top of the desk right beside him, his set of acrylic paints and brushes gathered up into a small pile. He had just finished his latest painting of the statue of the founder of this boring town, his artwork never failed to awe you.

“When I finally manage to finish the book, will you give me one of your artworks free of charge?” you piped up, outstretching your hand as you poked the canvas, trying to pull the large object towards you with a single fingertip in futility. Ever since you started spending your time watching Renjun paint while he listened to you rambling, you had often asked him to draw something for you for free. In which he would always reply with a brief ‘buy your own, acrylics are immensely expensive.’ before rolling his eyes and going back to painting.

He wasn’t completely wrong. Madam Wendy always grumbled on how paint prices are constantly increasing as time goes on. And whenever Renjun would make a quick trip to the art store just to buy another bottle of white paint, he would always suppress the urge to sigh heavily in front of the kind store owner who would grin innocently (despite the fact that they know full well that they were being absolute gooses for increasing the price as Renjun was going to buy their products nonetheless.)

However it came as a shock to the both of you when he muttered a small ‘fine’ under his breath. Eyes blowing wide as Renjun slowly looked up from his book and eerily turned to you, right before he could open his mouth to retract his words, you shot up to your feet. Catching the boy off guard as you leaned over to cover his mouth with your hands. “No! You are not taking that statement back!” you exclaimed, shaking your head aggressively as you gave him a wide mischievous smile.

Renjun furrowed his brows, eyes glaring daggers at you to let him go despite the fact that his gears were turning at a rapid speed at the feeling of your skin against his lips. “I’m not letting go unless you say yes,” you mused in a melodious tone, earning a shake of his head in response as he continued to send you his typical cold stare.

Renjun always had a really mean resting face, his eyes always managed to send cold shivers down everyones’ spines. However, there was something comforting in the way he looked at you. A familiar warm feeling blooming in your chest whenever he turned his head to look at you, even though his eyes barely held any emotion, even though his small chuckles and laughs held no genuine happiness in them, you couldn’t help but let a fuzzy feeling grow inside of your stomach. It was exhilarating.

“Come on, you probably have billions of canvases somewhere in town. Giving one away to your dearest friend shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” you whined, still refusing to remove your hand from his lips. He was internally enjoying the close proximity between you, but as the seconds went on, he knew his clock heart was going to burst out of his chest if he didn’t do something. With a small curse in his mind, he pulled your hand away from his mouth. “I would if you paid me. But considering you are currently penniless, I have to politely decline,” Renjun snickered, giving you a disgusted expression as he felt the heat around his mouth disappear into thin air.

You frowned, pursing your lips as you sat back down on your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “How could you do this to your most beloved friend?” you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for him to hear as you kicked one of the legs of the table in front of you childishly. Renjun chuckled, “‘Beloved’ isn’t even a word I would use to describe your existence.” Now it was your turn to glare daggers into his skull. “You’re incredibly mean, it’s almost bonkers,” you scoffed.

“I know,” he shrugged casually, pulling his chair back to stand up. “Now if you excuse me, I would like to wash up to remove whatever bacteria you have oh-so-unceremoniously blessed upon my skin,” he bowed, pushing the chair back in the table as he tugged on the cuffs of his coat, giving you a small grin. “My hands are squeaky clean, excuse me!” you retorted, putting a hand on your chest in faux offense. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/n,” he nodded, abruptly walking towards the washroom at the back of the library with a hand on his chest as the effects of his emotions finally took place inside his mechanical ticking heart.

As soon as Renjun turned to a corner, out of your line of vision, his whole body started twitching in pain. With a shaky hand he pulled back his coat to reveal the state of his clock. The hands of his clock were turning at a rapid speed, the small bird popping out of the clock and letting out a small ‘cuckoo!’. It was steaming up. Smoke was coming out of the contraption as if it was caught on fire. He felt like his chest was on fire. Renjun leaned his back against the wall, shakily blowing the smoke away and fanning it away softly with his hand.

What’s happening to him?

This has never happened before. What was happening to him? Why was he in so much pain? Why couldn’t he call out for help? Why couldn’t he make any sound?

Renjun wanted to cry out in pain, his body twitched as the tiny mechanical bird popped out of his clock with a loud ‘cuckoo!’. He gasped, patting his hands around his pockets for the key to his mechanical heart. He could hear the alarming ticking sounds of his clock with every second that went by, warning him something’s going to happen if nothing is done to stop this pain as he twitched in pain once again, clutching the clock with one hand, he felt something inside the pocket of his shirt. With a small grunt of pain, he fished out the small golden key inside.

He pulled his hand away from his clock, gasping for breath as the pain in his chest increased with every tick of his heart. He plunged the key into the small hole connecting the arrows of the clock, quickly turning it counter clockwise as the pain started to lessen. Once the pain subsided, he dropped his hand to his sides, panting in exhaustion as his eyes blew wide with fear, his gears were working at their usual pace once again. His chest felt numb, a small throbbing pain lingering somewhere inside of him.

‘What the hell was that?’

His eyes were glossy as he felt his emotions overwhelm his mind. His heart felt like it was going through a spin, as if the big hand of his core was going to pop out of his skin. His bones felt weak, as if it was about to implode at any second. The cogs and springs in his clock felt like they were about to explode.

The loud alarming ticking in his ears made him wonder if he didn’t pull out the key in time, would his cuckoo clock heart halt for good?

“I’ll be off now, Wendy,” Renjun announced as he hopped down the stairs eagerly, gripping his fresh, new, empty canvas to his sides with one hand and spinning one of his brushes in between the fingers of the other. “Oh, you seem in a bit of a hurry, Renjun,” a familiar voice cooed teasingly, her words followed by another giggle. Renjun paused in his step, mustering up the energy to form a small smile as he looked up at the two women giggling at him. “Good morning, Joy. Good morning, Yeri,” he greeted with a polite bow.

Joy and Yeri weren’t related in any way to Madam Wendy, but they are regular patients who would drop by weekly. And as far as he knew, they were one of the very few people who knew about his fragile condition (which is probably why they visit so often). “You look brighter than usual, what’s gotten you in such a rush, young lad?” Yeri grinned, sipping on her tea as she crossed her leg over the other with raised eyebrows.

“It’s just a small trip to town, I need to buy more acrylics as well,” Renjun lied through his teeth, feeling the gears in his heart work faster at the thought of meeting you at your usual spot. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, Renjun,” Wendy spoke up, attracting the attention of the three in the room with pancakes stacked on three individual plates. “Do sit down! It’s been quite a while since you had a chit chat with your lovely aunts!” Joy giggled, patting the extra seat beside her before looking at her friend, who nodded in agreement.

“I really shouldn’t interrupt-”

“Renjun, go sit down,” Madam Wendy coaxed, placing a hand on his shoulder and nodding towards the empty spot on the sofa. Renjun looked back at his caretaker before sighing heavily, placing his canvas and brushes on the table near the entrance door and walking to sit on the empty spot the women had saved for him. “I’ll be upstairs cleaning up, if you need me,” his caretaker informed before exiting the living room, leaving her adopted son with the other two women in the room.

“Okay, she’s gone!” Yeri exclaimed in a rather quiet tone before grabbing her fork and looking back at the teenager sitting beside them. “So how are you, honey? I just realised we didn’t even get to greet you last week considering you’ve been so busy lately,” Yeri hummed, shoving a spoonful of pancakes into her mouth as she spared a glance at Renjun. “Indeed! I assume you found something interesting in your great adventure in the outside world,” Joy giggled with an enthusiastic nod, causing Renjun’s eyes to widen.

Renjun let out a small chuckle. “You two make it sound as if I was a protagonist of some weird story,” he mused, digging into his own stack of pancakes as he felt a warm feeling in his stomach at the memory of the day you first met. “Don’t beat around the bush and tell us!” Joy rolled her eyes at the younger boy, grabbing her cup of tea and pulling it to her lips. “How was this great adventure you’ve discovered?” she asked, her eyes flickering from her tea to Renjun briefly.

Renjun bit his lip, scanning the room to ensure that Madam Wendy was nowhere in sight. He knew he could trust these two, considering the countless times he’s gotten away with his lies and rants. He bit his lip, glancing down at his hands nervously before giving his aunts a genuine smile. “It was fabulous,” he sighed dreamily, a sheepishly wide smile stretching across his lips as he took another bashful bite of his pancakes. “Tell all! Tell all! Don’t miss any details!” Yeri squealed.

“What made it all so fabulous?” Joy whispered, her eyes peering curiously at the boy who appeared to be in a dreamy state. “A little singer with glasses which she won’t wear,” he replied almost instantly without any hesitation, a little bit too fast for his liking. “She isn’t all that, is she?” Yeri gasped, leaning back slightly in shock to hear her little Renjun was talking about someone and not something.

He shot up, straightening his back as he dropped his fork on his plate with a shake of his head. “She is! She really is!” Renjun nodded eagerly, his hands coming up to make grand gestures as he continued on with his words. “She reminds me of a… sparrow! Perched up on the toppest tree branch in it’s tiny little feet, it gives her this calming fragile aura like a twig falling off of a branch. Her voice- her singing is like listening to a nightingale singing a bird song but with words! Or those soothing musical numbers they would always play in the telly after a good show has ended,” Renjun described, his eyes filled with stars and his heart filled with passion.

The two shared knowing looks, bewildered at how dazed the boy in front of them truly was at that moment. “And her smile it’s like a work of art! Far greater than all of my masterpieces combined, far greater than the artwork displayed on museums! Her laughter makes her seem so miniscule, I could hardly believe that such a light heartening sound could be elicited from a human being!” Renjun went on, his smile wide as he leaned back at the thought of your smile which made his stomach do somersaults.

“Oh Renjun, I bet that once she catches the flu, you’ll change your mind. Whenever women like those who catch the flu, they cough up a storm and sneeze like a steam truck,” Yeri joked, earning a brief frown from Renjun who scoffed in response. “Oh nonsense! I bet if she does, it would sound like a majestic flute found in the mountains!” Renjun waved his hand off with a roll of his eyes in disbelief.

The two women laughed in response, shaking a knowing look. “So basically, to sum everything up. You went to town and instead of catching the flu, you caught a bug in town, you young lad!” Yeri raised her eyebrow suggestively at the boy, indicating that he’s very much caught the love-bug she’s always ranted about on a daily basis. “Oh deary!” Joy gasped before letting out another fit of giggles, cupping her mouth to ensure that her giggles weren’t loud enough for Madam Wendy to hear.

“You know it’s forbidden,” Yeri lectured, her tone turning serious when she realised that Renjun was actually serious about this. “For-bid-den!” Joy emphasized with every wave of her finger with a disappointing shake of her head. “I know,” Renjun sighed, a frown forming at his lips as he sunk back against the seat he was sitting on, leaning his head back sadly. “It’s for your own good, you know,” Joy smiled sadly, sympathy lacing her tone as she patted the boy’s head comfortingly.

“Indeed. Oh deary, I wish I could live without love,” Yeri sighed, pulling out a mirror from her purse to reapply her lipstick. “Oh no, here we go again,” Renjun chuckled, sitting up straight once again as he prepared himself for another sad tragic love story his aunt has to offer. “Every day, every time I fall in love with a patient here or a man, they would always fall for some other girl!” Yeri ranted with a heavy sigh, smacking her lips together to get an even coating on her lips. “I am not letting Renjun listen to another one of your sob stories!” Joy huffed, leaning over to cup Renjun’s ears with her palms.

“You might taint the poor boy with your bad luck with love!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t my condition a symbol of this bad luck?” Renjun chuckled, gently tugging on the older woman's wrists to remove her palms away from his ear. “Oh hush you, I’m sure you’ll get over this little infatuation you have with this little singer,” Yeri waved her hand off nonchalantly, huffing slightly. “It’s not like you see her every day of the week, you’ll get over it in no time!” she added with an encouraging hum, watching as Joy nodded with her in agreement.

Renjun bit his lip, biting back his tongue as he continued to shove pancakes into his mouth as quickly as possible. At that moment, Madam Wendy finally came down with a key in her hand. “Renjun, I’ve always told you to bring your key wherever you go. Why won’t you ever take my words to heart?” Wendy sighed, handing the key to his mechanic heart to the young boy, who gulped slightly and mumbled a small apology under his breath before tucking his key in his front pocket.

He couldn’t help but shiver as the memory of him having a near death experience flashed through his mind, the image of the key plunging into his heart and winding it up to lessen the pain he endured had traumatized him. He was terrified of it happening again. He was terrified of what’s becoming of him. Was this the effects of falling in love? Was he falling in love with you? He hasn’t even known you for very long, he couldn’t possibly fall for you in such a short time.

Besides, why does falling in love feel so good but hurt so bad?

“So how was the book I lent you?” Renjun asked in an attempt to spark up a conversation. “Quite interesting, though, I’m not quite sure that I’ll finish it any time soon. I like to focus deep into the depths of the story, fully imagine the characters emotions and thoughts,” you exclaimed, pushing your organ barrel beside the tree Renjun was leaning against, sitting down beside him under the shade and crossing your legs, tugging the edges of your dress over your knees. You dusted the bits of dirt off of the fabric on your dress.

“I understand, it’s the thought process, right?” Renjun nodded, flipping a page of his book as he hummed. “Indeed! Though, I can’t quite get the gist of why Ms Havisham is so devoted to making Estella break Pip’s heart. She should’ve just left the poor girl alone, besides, I really don’t want to see the poor boy heartbroken,” you frowned, clicking your tongue in thought. “I despise Pip’s sister, as well,” you added with an innocent smile.

Renjun let out an amused chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a rather insufferable character, isn’t she?” he nodded in agreement, remembering how heartless Pip’s older sister was when it came to Pip and her own husband before she passed away in the book. “She’s exactly what my mother would consider as a bitch,” you added on, pulling your glasses out from your purse with a small giggle, earning a loud gasp from the boy beside you. “Y/n, language!” he gasped, pulling his book back to gaze at you with wide eyes.

You giggled, mumbling a small apology before fidgeting with the frames of your glasses mindlessly. Renjun watched you play with your glasses from the corner of his eye, internally wondering why you have never worn them despite carrying them around in your purse everywhere you go. Furrowing his brows, he turned his head back to his book, biting back his tongue before shaking his head at himself.

“You know, you really shouldn’t play games with your sight if it leaves you in the dark, y/n,” Renjun deadpan, not sparing you a glance as he licked the tip of his thumb to flip a page from his new book. You huffed at your friend, fidgeting with your new spectacles in between your fingers as you rolled your eyes at the boy beside you. “How poetic,” you scoffed, earning a soft chuckle from Renjun. “I think I prefer life all a blur, thank you very much,” you added on with a snappy tone.

“What does that even mean?” Renjun laughed lightly, putting his book down on his lap to turn to you with a soft expression on his face. “I keep forgetting to wear my glasses and now my eyes are blurry, I can’t even see the outline of my hand,” you stated, raising your free hand up above to the sky and squinted your eyes at it in an attempt to get a clearer vision of your hand that was merely a few inches away from you. “Your glasses are literally in your palms,” Renjun pointed out, nodding his head at the hand holding the glasses in question.

You opened your mouth to speak, slowly putting your glasses in your little handbag behind you before clearing your throat. “As I said before, I forgot to wear my glasses,” you repeated, giving him a cheshire grin in response. “Jesus Christ, why do I even bother?” Renjun muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, “won’t your vision get worse the lesser you wear them?” he asked once again, rubbing his temples in distress.

Humming in confirmation, you shrugged innocently before leaning back against the tree the two of you were sitting against. “Though, I believe it won’t get worse as long as I close my eyes. My vision won’t get worse if I don’t see, right? Besides, it feels good to close my eyes,” just as you finished your words, you clasped your hands on your lap, leaning your head back against the tree bark and closing your eyes before letting out a sigh of content. Renjun let out an annoyed puff of breath, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Your content expression was enough to send fiery sparks into his mechanical heart, he could almost feel it steaming up again. He couldn’t help but notice how close you were next to him, as if he were to make one little scooch, your shoulders would be touching. His eyes wandered to your beautiful figure laying right beside him, internally suppressing the urge to clasp you close to his body in a tight embrace. Your soft lips causing his stomach to do somersaults the longer his gaze lingers there. He imagines that he would scatter confettis on the both of you if he were to press his own lips against yours in a kiss.

His mind couldn’t help but wander back to those times where you had to walk up close to the signs to see what street the two of you were heading, the amount of times you had to squint and lean over the table to read whatever paragraph he was trying to show you during your reading sessions at the library. He felt this sudden urge to protect you, to constantly remind you to wear your glasses in case your vision worsened.

There was something inside of him screaming at him to not let you stray away from the happy path you were currently in. Something inside of him made him determined to be your only guide, to be your pair of eyes. In return, he knew you would ignite the flame in his heart. No, you would be the special flame that burns his heart. You’d be a conflagration in the night. A pretty arsonist. A fire blazing so bright you’ll see the light of the heavens itself.

“Oh why bother. You know very well, out of my five senses, my hearings best. I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize you without relying on my eyes,” you waved your hand off carelessly, keeping your eyes closed, oblivious to the way Renjun was looking at you so lovingly. “Well I assure you, I don’t think you can rely on your hearing to walk down the streets without my assistance,” Renjun chuckled, recalling the time when you almost walked into the wrong side of town due to your poor eyesight.

“You don’t know that! My eyes always lead me astray, anyways. Far away down the street, sometimes I can’t bear to steal a glance at the sun or even look the sky straight in the eye for fear that my eyes would deceive me as well,” you confessed dramatically, finally opening your eyes and turning your head to look at Renjun in the eye. Your eyes widened at the way Renjun’s eyes softened at the sight of your own pupils staring back at his in confusion. You straighten up your position, putting your hands behind you and leaning on them.

“Then let me be your eyes,” Renjun replied in an almost hushed tone. “I won’t let you stray, I promise,” he gave you a sweet boyish smile, making your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “Aren’t you being a little flirtatious? That’s quite unexpected of you, Huang Renjun,” you said with a raise of your brows as the corner of your lips quirked up into a smile that mirrored his own. You turned your head, feeling your faces grow closer and closer with every second.

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” he hummed, turning his body so his shoulder was leaning against the tree bark, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips as he leaned closer to you. You chuckled, shaking your head softly. “I don’t know, what do you think? Maybe it could be a good thing?” you shrugged, closing your eyes and leaning your face closer to his. Renjun followed your actions, feeling the gears in his mechanical heart work at a fast pace. He winced in pain as his body jolted and twitched in pain, the mechanical bird inside of the clock rapidly hitting the door of his clock.

He felt your breath hitting against his face, your lips merely an inch away from his as his body twitched in pain once again. Letting out a grunt of pain, he felt one of the gears of his clock pop out of his chest. Putting his hands on his chest, he grunted once again as his body twitched uncontrollably in pain. There was the sound of fabric being ripped before his vision darkened and he fell back against the concrete floor, falling unconscious within a few seconds.

“Renjun!” a voice yelled out in alarm, causing your eyes to jolt open in shock.

“Oh god, not this. Please, anything but this,” an unfamiliar voice gasped in a panic. Your vision was blurry, you couldn’t see much happening in front of you. You quickly fished out your spectacles from your purse, putting them on immediately before your eyes widened in fear and shock, your body froze on the spot. You could almost feel your heart stop beating against your chest for a moment.

Right in front of you was an unconscious Huang Renjun in the arms of an older lady on the floor. He was leaning against her lap, arms wrapped around him tightly in a motherly way. His eyes closed in content, it almost appeared as if he was just sleeping peacefully. There was steam coming out of his chest, you couldn’t see where it was coming from considering the old lady had blocked your view of him almost completely as she pleaded for him to wake up worriedly.

The lady in question snapped her head at you, glaring daggers at you as if you had committed some sort of arson. “What have you done to him?” she asked, her tone filled with malice and hatred. As if you were the cause of Renjun’s current state. Your eyes widened at her sharp tone, fear and anxiety creeping up in your veins as you couldn’t find the courage to even open your mouth, let alone utter a single word. You shakily got up to your feet, grabbing the strap of your purse before running off away from the two.

Slap!

The loud sound of Madam Wendy’s palm making contact with Renjun’s cheek pierced the room, causing his head to turn sideways at the harsh impact, wincing slightly as he laid against the chair, which was commonly used for Wendy’s patients, shirtless. His body jolted at the sudden contact, his heart making a loud ‘cuckoo’ sound at the shock it caused. “What were you thinking? You could’ve died!” Madam Wendy scolded, her fists balled up in her sides as she walked over to her table tray filled with tools.

Renjun couldn’t speak as he looked down in his palms, his mind blank and face void of emotion. He felt numb at that exact moment, he didn’t know if it was the aftermath of the sheering pain he just endured in front of you or it was because of the feeling of his heart being fixed by his own caretaker. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Huang Renjun. Whatever bloody happened to rule number 3? Did you forget?” Madam Wendy exclaimed in an alarming tone, her voice strict and angry. “No,” Renjun replied before breaking into a small fit of coughs, wincing as his chest burned with every breath he took.

“Do you have a pain in your heart when you cough?” Madam Wendy asked, her tone filled with worry, eyes filled with disappointment as she searched for a pair of pliers. Renjun nodded slowly in response, gripping the armrests of the chair as he leaned his head back against the pillow set behind his head. “Well multiply that pain and your suffering to a hundred fold and you still won’t understand the pain love causes,” she snapped, using some pliers to pull a piece of fabric from the arrows of his heart, placing the fabric on the small tray beside him before walking off to grab some more tools.

“And the greater the love, the greater the pain,” she sighed, opening the drawers from across the room. Renjun’s eyes flickered to the woman frantically trying to fix his heart before his eyes moved down to the white fabric on the tray. He reached his arm out to grab it, quickly snucking it in his pockets before looking back at the window. During your near-kiss under the tree, the arrows of his clock must’ve pulled against the fabric of your dress. Your dress wasn’t made out of the most durable fabric, the pull must’ve ripped the top sleeve of your dress when he passed out.

“First, your sense of ache, followed by pangs of rage and jealousy then incomprehension,” she started to explain, sipping on her coffee as Wendy’s heart ached at the thought of her own child going through that much pain if this goes on. “Rejection, the agony of heartbreak,” she turned to point her tweezers that was holding a gear in between it with a strict motherly expression. One that Renjun couldn’t bear looking into for too long.

“Your mechanical heart won’t be able to withstand it, you know this! I told you countless times, this is why I’m always so worried whenever I let you go into town,” she barked, walking back to the tools to drop the rusted gear along with the other broken metals she pulled out and replaced from his heart. “It will overheat and explode, I transplanted it with my own two hands, therefore I know it’s limits,” she went on, her tone falling deaf onto Renjun’s ears as his mind wandered back to your figure.

“A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!”

With eyes closed in thought, he wondered what happened after he fell unconscious, how did Madam Wendy find him in such a short amount of time? What happened to you? Did he scare you when he fell unconscious? He was worried you’ll be afraid to talk to him now. Did Wendy say anything mean to you while he was out cold on the concrete floor?

Oh god, your presence isn’t even here and your existence is entering his heart and filling it with flames as if you were a little fairy wandering around looking for a new home to live in. A home which is his heart. He couldn’t help but let out a small smile at the vivid memory of sitting so close to you under the shade, how his skin burns at the feeling of touching yours, how your smile and laughter gave colour to his emotionless dark world. Oh how the thought of you made Renjun feel as if he was floating. It was as if you were carrying him up into the sky, he felt like flying by your side.

“Do you know why I saved your life?” a voice snapped him out of his daydreaming.

His eyes opened, head turning to his caretaker who took a seat next to him, gripping her gloves in her hands. “You were the son I never had,” she confessed, giving him a small comforting smile. “Why couldn’t you have one?” Renjun asked rather hesitantly, his voice almost hushed as if he was whispering, despite the fact that it was only the two of them in the room. Madam Wendy shrugged, sighing heavily.

“It was no one’s fault. It’s one of those tricks love and nature plays on us, you know that more than anyone,” she chuckled, gesturing to the cuckoo clock heart on his naked chest. “Though, the day your mother gave you to me felt like it was heaven sent. Oh god, I would lose my mind and my reason for living if I lost you,” she reached over and ran her fingers through her child’s hair, making Renjun feel some sort of guilt deep down in his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry I fell in love and I don’t know how to get out.

Madam Wendy finally allowed Renjun out of their home a month after the incident. For the whole thirty days he was prisoned in his home, all that wandered in his mind was you. He wanted to see you, he longed to hear your sardonic humor, he longed to hear your angelic laughter flowing through his ears like music. He longed to ask forgiveness of what had happened between the two of you under the tree.

He wondered if you harbored the same feelings for him as he does for you. He doubted you’d still feel the same after the incident, however, a part of him had hope that you would wait for him all this time. He tried to prove himself wrong as he ran around town to all of your favorite spots. The library, the fountain, the art store, the tree. Anywhere his mind took him, his feet didn’t stop moving. His feet couldn’t stop moving.

He wanted to see you again. No, he needed to see you again. He needed to apologize to you to release the guilt in his heart. He didn’t care if his heart would explode right then and there, he needed to see you and he wanted to finally embrace you in his arms. He needed to know if you reciprocate his feelings, he needed to know if you longed for him as much as he longed for you this whole entire time. He never got your answer, either. He asked to be your eyes, he wanted to be your guide. He wanted to tell you to rely on him if you can’t rely on your eyes, he wanted to hold your hand to keep you from straying to the wrong path. He wanted to feel his lips brush against yours, he wanted to feel love. He wanted to feel loved by you.

His heart fell even more when he realised he couldn’t find you anywhere. No one knew where you went, no one has seen you since the day he fell unconscious. It was as if you had disappeared off of the surface of the earth. The only thing he had of you was the fabric he accidentally tore off of your dress. He realised you left your barrel organ ride beside the tree. It was already collecting dust as leaves fell in between the spaces of the organ.

You were gone.

The owner of the library informed him that you had fled abroad. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach at the thought of you running away. You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even have the audacity to tell him you were leaving? Surely you would have informed him that you were leaving. Yet again, you did tell him on the first day you met that you weren’t supposed to stay here for too long. But was it too much of him to ask you to at least say goodbye?

Two years later, it was Renjun’s 18th birthday. Two years since he lost you, two years since he went back to the hollow shell he formerly was before he fell in love. He spent months wallowing in his own sorrow, he spent months wondering if you missed him the same way he missed you. He no longer looked forward to walking out of his home to paint, all he saw was grey. The places he spent with you made his vision dark and grey, it was as if the joy inside of him were stripped from his vision.

He didn’t know what to do. His heart grew numb, he didn’t know how to make himself happy again. It was as if he had lost a part of himself. He had lost something precious. Which he did, he lost you. He didn’t know what to do. Yet, on a rare occasion, he would take small walks into town.

Madam Wendy noticed how Renjun’s whole existence grew dull ever since that day, his eyes were always dark as if he hasn’t slept for centuries, a frown permanently placed on his lips, his movements weak as if he didn’t have the energy to move. At this point he admitted that he was barely living, he was just a human body existing with a cuckoo clock as a heart. His days were no longer as bright as they used to.

To Renjun, the days felt like it was repeating itself. He wasn’t allowed to go to school, for Madam Wendy feared that he would be made fun of and bullied by his peers. Everyday, he would wake up and wind up his heart, take a long shower, eat his breakfast, paint or read his books, occasionally talking to the patients who attempted to make small talk with him (however that wouldn’t last very long considering he had no interest whatsoever in interacting with strangers he barely knew), eat dinner, go to bed. Repeat.

It was an exhausting cycle. His mind was growing dull. Whenever his mental health became worse, he would take a walk into town to clear his mind to try and lift his own spirits (despite the fact that he knew it’s futile. After all, he’s been trying this for the past two years.) Today was unfortunately one of those days.

Renjun had decided to take a small visit to the library. He remembered how he had to apologize to the librarian for lending you the Great Expectations book when he remembered that you’ve never returned the book back to him. He still felt guilty despite the fact that the librarian didn’t mind it very much. The librarian lady took a liking to both you and Renjun, she thought the two of you would’ve ended up together if it weren’t for the fact that you had moved away without a goodbye.

But fortunately for Renjun, today was a different day. Today would be the day to end his miserable lifestyle.

“Renjun! Renjun, my dear boy! How are you, honey?” the librarian greeted, putting a stack of books on the counter as Renjun entered the library with a bashful smile on his face. “Same as always, Mrs. Dust,” he bowed to greet the older lady politely, snucking his hands in his pockets after tugging on his coat. “Honey, I have lovely news for you! You remember your old friend, Miss Y/n, don’t you?” the lady giggled, walking over to the young adult with an eager smile on her face.

Oh how Renjun’s heart perked up at the brief mention of your name.

“Of course I do, Mrs. What about her?” he coughed, clearing his throat to prevent his voice from shaking. “I’ve received a letter from her! Oh hold on, dearie,” she giggled, squatting down to open the small drawer near her desk and pulling out a small postcard which had a familiar handwriting written on the back. “It must be your birthday soon. Happy birthday, my dear boy. The least I can do is give you this,” she smiled, handing Renjun the postcard with a hum.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Dust,” he smiled, gripping the postcard tightly in between his fingers as he looked down on it. It was indeed from you. You didn’t write much on the card, nothing more than a simple ‘happy birthday’ and a small ‘I missed you’. You had written your name at the edge of the card and a small ‘R’ beside the happy birthday, indicating that it was truly for him. Fireworks erupted in his stomach when he saw small hearts doodled all over the card with a red pen.

You remembered him.

You missed him.

You thought of him.

Those words were enough to revive the spark in his heart. Those were enough to spread a bright genuine smile across his lips. His cheeks hurt from how wide his smile was, he felt like jumping for joy. He was so ecstatic he thought he could fly to the sky, he felt his fingers itching as his eyes wandered to the address you have written at the bottom of the postcard, giving him a hint of where you might be living.

Andalusia.

You were half across Europe. You were so far away, yet so close. He wanted to see you. He needed to see you. He couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, he needed to get a move on and he needed to find you. He thought sending you a postcard back wasn’t enough. He wanted to see the girl who managed to turn his heart without the key, he wanted to see the girl who produced a spark in his heart with only a few mere words.

He ran all the way back home, encountering Joy and Yeri on the way back and shooting them with an uncharacteristically bright smile stretched across his face. “Renjun, lad, what’s gotten you all jumpy?” Joy exclaimed, causing Renjun to stop in his tracks. “I got a letter from her!” he informed them, his voice high-pitched as if he just got told that he had personally won the sun, moon and stars all to himself. In his case, he actually did. He actually did.

“A letter?” Yeri squeaked up, a smile stretching across her face at the sight of the younger boy’s. “From who?” Joy asked, giggles bubbling up in between the two ladies as they watch Renjun suppress the urge to jump for joy. “Y/n! She remembers me! She sent me a postcard from Andalusia,” he exclaimed, waving the postcard in their faces. Joy’s eyes wandered down to Renjun’s chest, watching as the hands of his clock spun rapidly, indicating how excited the young adult was feeling.

“Y/n? Was this the young girl you went on about a few years ago?” Yeri asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from Renjun himself. “Renjun, that’s great news! What are you planning to do then? Write her another letter?” she asked once again, clasping her hands in front of her at the delightful news. The boy shook his head eagerly, his smile never faltering.

“I’m going to find her, I’m going to find her and confess my love,” he breathed out, his own words taking his breath away. The thought of seeing you again was enough to send him flying into the heavens, oh for all things that’s holy, he didn’t know how he was going to proclaim his love for you in person when he could barely explain it in words himself.

“To Andalusia? Renjun, that’s halfway across Europe! Madam Wendy won’t be very happy about this,” Joy informed him, a sympathetic smile replacing her previously bright one. Renjun’s smile faltered at the mention of his caretaker, looking down at the postcard you had sent him, your messy handwriting beckoning him to come to you. He sucked his bottom lip, his heart racing at the thought of rebelling against Madam Wendy’s orders.

Yet again, if he did end up dying from this, all of Madam Wendy’s efforts throughout the past two decades would be in vain. She was practically his guardian after all, but yet again, he was a legal adult now isn’t he? He’s 18 years old, he didn’t have to live under her rules anymore if he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty for wanting to flee Edinburgh just to see you again, something inside of him was screaming at him to run.

Maybe this time, he would listen to it.

“Joy, Yeri, will you help me escape Edinburgh?”

“Renjun? What are you doing up so late?”

Renjun froze, halting his movements as he dropped another sweater into his suitcase. He shut his eyes tightly as his heart raced against his chest, taking a deep breath to compose himself before standing up to face his caretaker as he zipped up his suitcase tight. “Wendy,” he cleared his throat, gripping tightly on the saddle of his suitcase with a small cough, slipping the key to his heart in his front pockets. “Renjun, why do you have a suitcase packed? It’s past curfew,” she narrowed her eyes at the boy.

“Wendy, I am now a legal adult. I have turned 18 years old,” Renjun started, suppressing the urge to gulp down his nerves but he kept his ground. “Yes, I know that, Renjun. That still doesn't answer my question as to why you’re up this late with a packed suitcase,” she nodded, tone laced with confusion as Renjun took a step back towards the opened window, looking out at the moonlight. “Y/n sent me a postcard… from Andalusia,” his voice grew quieter as the seconds went by.

“I’m planning to travel half across Europe to see her again.”

“No, I forbade it.” Wendy shook her head, taking a step forward towards her adopted child, her hands balled up into fists at how Renjun’s determined expression didn’t falter at the slightest bit at her strict tone. “I expected you to say that,” Renjun sighed, walking over to the open window and looking up at the moon shining down upon the dark sky.

“Nature was cruel to pray this silly little trick on me. I spent two decades wondering ‘what is love’? I knew I didn’t need to love in life, you showed me that throughout my whole 18 years of living here. I didn’t need love to live,” Renjun started, clasping his hands together as he held the saddle of his suitcase harder.

“But I realise, I’ve always wanted to feel love. To feel love, to give love and be loved back. Y/n made me realise that when I started falling for her two years ago, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have come to this realisation either,” he chuckled in disbelief, looking around at the decorations of his room, realising how much he’s going to miss living here. “I want to go out and explore the world, I know you have been dreading at the possibility of this day coming, but it has, Wendy.”

“Renjun, no. If you leave, this might as well be the last breath you’ll take! You have never travelled outside of town before, how are you going to survive travelling all across Europe for some measly girl? I won’t allow it, I can’t allow it,” Wendy shook her head, her eyes wide with panic as she watched Renjun walk backwards to the open window behind him. “I know you won’t allow it. But it’s time to let me go,” Renjun smiled sadly.

“Thank you for the 18 years you have spent trying to keep me alive. But the past two years felt meaningless to me without her presence, it felt aimless. I was honestly thinking about taking my own life at some point,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “But now, I realise I rather risk my life for love than spend the rest of my days here with an empty, cold feeling in my heart,” he shot his guardian a genuine smile, the first genuine smile she has ever witnessed from the young boy.

“Goodbye Wendy.”

“Huang Renjun!”

Renjun fell back from the open window, causing Madam Wendy to let out a cry of his name, quickly running over to the window to see if her child was okay. She gasped when she saw that Renjun had landed on a mattress Joy and Yeri had set before hand, a loud joyous laughter eliciting from the younger boy’s lips, a sound Wendy has never heard from the boy from his eighteen years of living. He got up from the mattress, grabbing his suitcase quickly before shooting a boyish smile to his aunts.

“I’ll send you a postcard, Madam Wendy!” he exclaimed as he began running down the hill.

“Renjun, no! Come back! Oh god, please no! Yeri, Joy, what are you doing?! Stop the young lad before he-”

“You can’t blame me for falling hard in love, mother!”

“Now my dear boy, what a lovely contraption of a heart you got there!” a man exclaimed, adjusting his monocle as he squinted his eyes at Renjun’s mechanical heart. “Oh, why, thank you,” he smiled politely, bowing at the older man as he gripped his canvas in hand. “Where are you off to? You seem quite young to be travelling all by yourself,” the man asked in an attempt to make small talk.

That night, Renjun had run off to catch the nearest train to Paris, he planned to take a trip from there to Andalusia. It was a 7 hour ride but he was willing to do anything at this point to get out of Edinburgh. When he finally arrived in Paris, he stumbled upon this man while waiting for his next train. “Oh pardon me, where are my manners! I’m Kim Doyoung,” he outstretched his hand for Renjun to shake with a toothy smile spread on his lips.

“Huang Renjun,” he introduced with a sheepish smile. “Ah, So, Renjun, where are you going, my dear boy? You seem a little bit too young to travel,” Doyoung took off his monocle, wiping it against his tie before putting it back on. “I-I’m trying to get a replacement for my heart,” Renjun said, poking his little clock with the tip of his finger, grimacing at the small ticking sound it was making at the small touch.

It wasn’t a complete lie.

He had planned to get a replacement for his heart for so long, he figured that maybe if he changed into a new one, this wretched curse of forbidden love might be lifted. Maybe he didn’t have to part ways with Madam Wendy or Joy or Yeri. Maybe if he replaced his clock, he could live his life happily in love with you. Though, for now, it was just a small hope he held inside of him. All he could do now was find a clockmaker.

“I’m trying to find a clockmaker somewhere to replace my heart,” he spoke in a bold tone, looking down at his unfinished piece. He made it during his seven hour train ride while thinking of you just to pass the time, though, he was honestly considering giving it to you the moment you get to reunite with each other. “Do you happen to know one?” he asked, his eyes going wide with hopefulness.

Doyoung hummed in response, tugging on the tip of his tie. “Unfortunately, I’m not a clockmaker. But I do like tinkering in the mechanics direction! Maybe I could take a closer look at your heart to see if there’s anything I can do,” Doyoung suggested, pulling out a magnifying glass with a nod of his head. Renjun sucked his bottom lip nervously before taking out the key from his front pocket, plunging it into the mechanical heart and turning it to open the door of his heart. “Alright then.” “Oh! You say that this was grafted by the famous Madam Wendy from Edinburgh? She must be quite the genius to craft and piece this all for you with her bare hands to save your life,” he exclaimed, leaning closer to observe the small gears slowly turning with every small tick tocks his heart makes. “Though, I don’t know why you’d want to replace such a thing. Everything works just fine, clearly, she made this out of love. I could see it within every crevice of art she puts into this clock,” the older man clicked his heart, putting his magnifying glass back into his bag as Renjun closed his heart shut and pulled his key out of the clock.

“Love, huh? That’s the exact problem I have at the moment,” Renjun sighed heavily, tucking his key back into his front pocket before leaning back against his seat. “It’s very dangerous to me. At least that’s what Wendy said to me for the past eighteen years of my life,” he looked down at his shoes sadly, pressing his lips together in a tight line as he felt the guilt catching up to him at the thought of his caretaker’s efforts going in vain.

“Tell me about it,” Doyoung grinned, putting his hand on his chin as a smug expression spread across his features.

“You see, mister Kim-”

“Oh no! Call me Doyoung!”

“Uhm- You see, mister Doyoung. There’s this singer I met in Edinburgh a long time ago and-” “Ah yes, I see. These things do happen quite often.” Renjun bit back his tongue when Doyoung interrupted him once again, but nonetheless he continued on with his story. “As time went on, we grew closer. And soon, I couldn’t help but feel as if my whole world was going through a life threatening earthquake. My head was spinning, I couldn’t breathe. The ticking tock of my clock sounded almost alarming as if it was going to stop at any given moment whenever I’m within her lovely presence,” he explained, making grand, dramatic gestures with his hands as he went on.

Doyoung chuckled, assuming that Renjun’s poetic explanations were purely symbolic. “And how did that feel, exactly, Renjun?” he asked, causing Renjun’s expression to soften. “Extraordinary,” he sighed, almost dreamily as he looked down at the postcard he was holding in his free hand that wasn’t holding his canvas. “There you go, my dear boy,” he chuckled in response, leaning back against the seat next to Renjun’s.

“I don’t know, Mister Doyoung. I fear Wendy might be right, though, what if love was just a trap and my ticking clock is just a bomb waiting to be triggered by it?” Renjun asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he kissed his teeth. “Renjun, if you fear of getting hurt, you will increase the chances of getting hurt,” Doyoung laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You should enjoy the thrill, the danger! That pumps through your veins at the thought of falling completely in love,” he exclaimed.

“If you live your life worrying everything, you’ll get bored before you even die! Don’t you want to experience a life changing experience with this little lady you’ve been saughting after?” he asked, her tone encouraging Renjun’s spirit to get back up again. A smile stretched across Renjun’s face at the thought, he had flashbacks to the two years he spent without you. He couldn’t afford going back to the same depressing situation he got himself out of, and he’s definitely not willing to go back now that he’s almost there.

“If I can find her again. The last time I heard from her, she was in Andalusia,” he shrugged with a small laugh.

“I’d say,” Doyoung laughed. “When you’re eighteen and you’re travelling half across the continent for a girl, I’d say the rebellious genes in your DNA are highly developed,” he joked, retracting his hand from Renjun’s shoulders. “I bet I could make a whole film based on your cuckoo clock heart,” Doyoung whipped out an empty journal from his bag, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his newfound friend. “Why not?” Renjun chuckled with a small shrug.

“Young love, what a beautiful thing to see. You see, I never had any fond memories when it comes to being in love. All I do is invent and invent contraptions, and my former lover never appreciated my expertise. Life is far from easy when you’re in love, my young friend,” Doyoung sighed, leaning his arm against the seat with a heavy sigh. “Why don’t you come with me to Andalusia then, Mister Doyoung? I’m sure anything’s possible there and I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a company on my way there,” Renjun offered, the thought of making a new friend giving some light into his dark path.

“You want an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns following you in your journey to find love?” Doyoung’s eyes went wide in shock, a smile that mirrored Renjun’s appearing on his face. “I would love to have an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns in my quest!” Renjun laughed, nodding eagerly as he sat up straight to shake Doyoung’s hand to make a deal.

Renjun had made another friend.

When they finally arrived in Andalusia, they stumbled upon a small amusement park where you were rumored to be staying in at the moment. “Well, first impressions?” Doyoung asked, looking around the ominous park filled with performers and eccentric workers setting up their tents. “It’s.. quite different than Edinburgh, I must admit,” Renjun chuckled, pulling on his suitcase eagerly as he scanned his eyes around in hopes that he might see your figure at the corner of his eye.

The park, unlike his old town, was way more colourful than Edinburgh. There were animals in colourful cages, happily interacting with their inmates. There were jesters and mimes practicing for their acts in the middle of the streets, happily entertaining a few visitors. There were food stands everywhere, Renjun swore you could exit this park penniless under five minutes if you really wanted to.

“Come one, come all! For tonight we have special acts starting from 5 pm to-”

He walked past whom he assumed was the announcer of the park, who was enthusiastically using a tricycle to spread his message all over the place. And upon walking around he stumbled upon what seems to be a horror attraction in the shape of a train, the owner standing inside of a coffin as she smoked her cigarette, eyeing Renjun suspiciously. “Looking for something, you little runt? A job, perhaps? Cause, I’m looking for a new employee to hire,” she asked, taking a puff of her cigarette in between her sentences.

Renjun took his words back about Madam Wendy resembling Ms Havisham. Because at that given moment, he felt like Pip when he was first introduced to Ms Havisham in the book, clueless as to what he wanted with her. Renjun shook his head, no, mustering up the courage to give the older woman a polite smile. “I’m looking for a little singer?” he answered with an innocent smile.

“A little singer? Here? The chances of that is equivalent to finding a snowflake in hell,” she rolled her eyes, taking another puff from her cigarette and blowing smoke into Renjun’s face. He coughed, taking a step back in alarm but he bit his tongue to snap back at the woman’s rude actions. “Listen, I’m just trying to find a little singer who sings like a lovely bird in the break of daw-”

“Enough jabbering about her! Do you want the job or not?” she sighed exasperatedly.

As Renjun was about to give the woman a piece of his mind for being so rude, the announcer cycling around him caught his attention with his words. “Ladies and Gentlemen, up next in our line of performers will be the young singing sensation, Miss Y/n! A lady who has travelled far and wide with her infamous street singing career,” the announcer said with a booming voice as he cycled to another part of the park.

“Miss Y/n?” he whispered with a soft gasp. “Well? Do you want the job or not?” the woman asked with a raised brow. He frowned involuntarily at the woman’s abrupt tone, clicking his tongue before running back to wherever Doyoung was. “I’ll think about it!” he exclaimed loudly before sprinting off, calling out his colleague’s name with a bright smile on his face.

“I found her!”

“It is her!” he gasped, watching as you slowly come out of your little private trailer, music piercing his ears and your voice making its way into his heart like a knife throwing attraction. It hit right at the target perfectly. “It’s her, I can’t believe it,” Renjun could feel his breath being taken away. You had grown to be a beautiful woman, your features changed slightly due to the years but nonetheless, it didn’t do anything to stop Renjun’s heart from swelling up with adoration like a balloon being filled with helium.

“Go into her trailer, no one’s going to notice you. Talk to her after her performance,” Doyoung encouraged with a slightly hushed tone. “Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes shot wide at the unexpected encouragement, his eyes wandering to the trailer you came out of. “I can’t do that! That’s a lady’s privacy!” he exclaimed, shaking his head aggressively. “Trust me, it’ll go smoothly! Just believe in yourself and try not to let the conversation die,” Doyoung hissed, nudging on the younger boy’s shoulder.

Renjun got up slowly, gulping down his fear as he quickly got into your trailer, eyes wide at his own stupidity. ‘God, why did I decide to do this? This is very uncouth of me to do so,’ he thought to himself, wincing slightly when he realised that the music had died down. A bouquet of daisies were in his hand, he didn’t know what to do at that moment as he observed your trailer. It wasn’t very far from you. It was decorated according to your liking.

Your favorite colour was splashed all over the walls, a mannequin standing idly beside the entrance, your dressing table with a gigantic mirror showing his nervous presence. He froze for a brief moment at the sound of your enchanting humming and your little footsteps coming closer to the trailer, making him stand behind the mannequin on pure instinct as you walked into the trailer with a skip in your step.

You were humming the same song you sang on the day you first met. Muttering the lyrics under your breath as you removed bits of dust from your clothing from the performance. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped at Renjun’s awkward figure standing behind your mannequin. You stood up abruptly, grabbing a perfume on your desk and raised it up threateningly at him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” you exclaimed in alarm. You couldn’t see his face very clearly considering you weren’t wearing your glasses.

“I’m sorry! I was tying my shoelaces when I fell into your floor,” Renjun shook his head, waving his hands around nervously to give off the message that he wasn’t some weird creep or stalker snooping around your belongings. “Do you always fall into a girl’s quarters when she’s changing?” you snapped, lowering your perfume hesitantly as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the boy. “NO! No! I would never, I swear! I don’t even know why I’m-”

“You look suspiciously familiar as if I recognise you from somewhere,” you mumbled under your breath, squinting your eyes at him. “You recognise me?” Renjun perked up, a smile stretching across his face as he took a step away from the mannequin towards you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes before turning to the mirror to adjust your appearance. “What do you want anyway?” you sighed, as if you were used to this sort of encounter.

“I’d like to give you a bouquet of daisies,” Renjun bit his lip, pulling the bouquet behind him and leaning it towards your direction. “Daisies? I can’t say they’re my favorite flowers,” you chuckled, looking up at him with a more relaxed expression. “I have no idea why, but peculiarly, daisies always reminds me of my glasses,” you confessed, putting the bouquet on your desk and standing up towards the exit. “I stopped wearing them a long, long time ago. They make me look like some weird bug,” you joked, looking back at Renjun, who chuckled at your words.

‘You really haven’t changed, huh?’

“It’s fine by me,” Renjun chuckled, walking closer towards you in comforting silence. The way your eyes made contact with his softly made his stomach do somersaults, the gears of his heart felt like it was powered by a burst of energy. “Could we see each other again?” he asked hesitantly, “I’d like to get to know you even more,” he added, snucking his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps,” you shrugged, giving him a smile that mirrored his own. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”

“Oh, no! I’m not, I’m the-I work at the ghost train,” Renjun lied through his teeth, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh, you’re the new scarer? That’s wonderful news to hear,” you exclaimed, clapping your hands to congratulate him on his new job. “Yes, of course! Exactly, I’m the new scarer,” he nodded, a little bit too eagerly if you asked him. “Can I come see you in action?” you laughed lightly, observing how fidgety the boy in front of you is as he stepped out of your trailer.

“Of course!”

“Tomorrow? Around four?”

“I’ll see you then.”

As the weeks went by, the love between you and Renjun blossomed like a rose. You bonded over your love for art and music in general, rekindling the friendship you used to have. But unfortunately for Renjun, you didn’t recognise him, not a single bit. It was against his beliefs to hit a woman, for that was very impolite of a man, but whenever you mumble how you couldn’t put your finger on how you recognize him from somewhere then proceeds to drop the conversation, he couldn’t lie. He wanted to smack you upside the head for your oblivious self.

‘Oblivious, rather ludicrous and as blind as a bat. Why did I fancy her, again?’ he would always ponder to himself on a daily basis before watching you run around to try the newest food from each of the food stalls with a bright smile on your face. ‘Oh, right, that’s why,’ he sighed heavily before going over to you with his hands clasped behind his back, mentally preparing himself to fall head over heels for you over and over again.

Today, he was giving you a tour of the ghost train. (yes, he took up the offer with a roll of his eyes just so he can stay here and spent more time with you) “You’re doing a wonderful job here, by the way. It looked like people are having a lot of fun riding the ghost train with your assistance,” you complimented, giving Renjun a soft smile as you walk along the dark train tracks.

“Why thank you, my boss can’t say the same, however,” he grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the thought of his boss being ashamed of him for ruining her quote unquote reputation. “Don’t mind her, she’s always been like that,” you waved it off with a small giggle, patting his shoulder. “Hmm,” he nodded, a pregnant pause settling between you two as you basked in each other’s company. “How did you like the glasses I gave you?”

Everyday, Renjun would find the most ominous and peculiar looking glasses that were all twisted and broken to give to you, which always brought a smile upon your face knowing full well that you couldn’t wear them no matter how much you tried. “Awful, as usual,” you joked, clasping your hands behind your back as you skipped along the tracks, your shoes hitting the dark coal with a soft ‘tip tap’. “Wonderful,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head profusely at you.

“I still can’t shake over the feeling that I’ve been in this situation before, or maybe I dreamed of this moment before,” you blurted out, looking around the damp cave-like tunnel you were walking through. Renjun bit his lip sadly, suppressing the urge to tell you that he was the boy you met back in Edinburgh. Yet again, what if you left for a reason? What if you left because you didn’t want to see him again? He feared the worse as time went on.

“I’m sure we’ve met before but I don’t know where,” you turned to him with a smile tugging at your lips. “Really,” Renjun looked down at his feet, kicking the coal as you both paused in your step and turned your bodies to look at each other in the eyes. You somehow found comfort in looking into Renjun’s eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint why they constantly gave you a sense of deja vu whenever you stare into them for too long. “What’s that odd pitter patter?” you mumbled, hearing a familiar tapping sound in the tunnel.

He bit back a smile, “it’s the rain.”

He knew those words all too well. “Do you like the rain?” he asked, putting his hand behind his back as he adjusted the top hat on his head. “Getting wet? No,” you shook your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “But the sound it makes? Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically, making Renjun laugh at your slight eagerness. “And I’ve heard that noise before somewhere,” you whispered, loud enough for Renjun to hear.

“That’s because it’s my heart,” he couldn’t help but blurted out, putting a hand on his little coat. “Pardon?” you furrowed your brows in confusion, watching him tug on his coat to reveal a miniscule cuckoo clock on his chest. “My heart, they made it for me on the day I was born. It’s a bit cold and a little fragile, but it works,” he sighed, watching as you observe the small contraption on his heart with a curious expression, pulling out the key from his pockets.

“You can open me up with this little key,” he grabbed your hand and placed the key in between your fingers, letting you push the key into his heart and turning it to the left before opening the door of his clock. “Fascinating, do you always let other girls walk into the train tracks with you and let them open your heart?” you chuckled, raising your brow at the boy in front of you, whose eyes widened in surprise as you pulled your hand away from his heart.

“No, not really. In fact, you’re the first one,” Renjun shook his head with a sweet smile, closing the door shut and pulling out the key before placing it back into his pocket. “Oh, thanks,” your eyes widened slightly at his blunt expression, putting a hand on your arm shyly. “You’re welcome,” he chuckled, patting the key in his pocket. Renjun’s eyes wandered from your eyes to your soft lips, his heart racing against his chest at the thought of finally picking up where you had left off all those years. He didn’t even realise that he was leaning his head towards yours.

“Wait- no,” you pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him away as you turned your head to the side with guilt glossing over your eyes. “Don’t,” you shook your head as you took a step back. “I really like you. There’s a warm fuzzy feeling growing in my tummy that’s making me pull towards you like a magnet, but,” you paused, looking down at your hands nervously as they lay limp on your sides. “My heart belongs to someone else,” you gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Someone I met a long, long time ago. You always reminded me of him. “I’m still waiting until the day we reunite once again, embarking on a romantic adventure with you would just be unfair,” you sighed heavily, rubbing your arms nervously as you slowly let Renjun down. A great pang of pain pierced through Renjun’s whole body at your words, he could almost feel his heart tear itself apart as he watched you walk away and out of the ghost tunnel.

Away from him.

“Renjun! You’re back! So? How did it go?” Doyoung exclaimed, fixing his latest invention with a cough, dropping his tweezers in his bag as he wiped his hands on a nearby cloth. Doyoung had rented an empty building so that he could introduce his new inventions to the public and entertain them with them. “She loves someone else,” Renjun mumbled under his breath, tossing his top hat onto one of the seats they set up as he sat down on the steps of the small indoor stage Doyoung had built over the past few weeks.

“I travelled halfway across Europe for her for absolutely nothing,” Renjun laid his head on his palms, sighing heavily as he tried to keep himself from screaming in pain. His heart was hurting. It was way different than the pain he felt two years ago, it was a whole new level of emotional pain he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. “Did you at least confess your love for her?” Doyoung asked, taking a seat next to the boy as Renjun gripped his hair tightly in distress.

“Why bother? Her heart’s filled to the brim, there’s no way I could empty it out like a sink,” Renjun pulled his head out of his hands, his elbows laying on his legs as he threw the golden key to his heart against the carpet floor out of frustration. “You can’t just let your efforts go to waste, Renjun. Did she at least recognise you?” Doyoung asked, leaning over to grab the key and place it back into his younger friend’s palm with a heavy sigh.

He shook his head, turning it to look at the older man who adjusted his monocle. “No, I’d prefer her not to remember who I am than to remember me and not love me in return,” Renjun leaned his cheek against his palm, eyes looking down sadly at his feet. “You can’t just give up like that, Renjun. Love is like a shooting star you’re supposed to seek after, a wish you must grant yourself with the fifty percent chance of getting the outcome you desire,” Doyoung encouraged, leaning back against his palms behind him.

Renjun chuckled softly, a sad smile appearing on his lips. “I never felt so sad yet so happy at the same time,” he shook his head, pressing his knuckles to his temples hard. “Ah yes, two of the most powerful and impactful emotions of the human soul combined into one,” Doyoung mused, raising a brow at his lovesick friend. “If only she believed me about my heart, her expression tells me that she thinks it’s some kind of sick joke,” he scoffed, kicking the air with one foot as he let out a huff of exhaustion.

“Well, did she say who has captured her heart?” Doyoung asked, raising his brow, causing Renjun’s eyes to shoot up wide.

The impact of Kim Doyoung’s words have never failed to get Renjun’s adrenaline rushing again through his veins as he walked into your trailer with a small push against your door. “Do I know him?” Renjun asked abruptly, wanting to get straight to the point as he was very eager to know who has captured your heart. “Could you stop barging into my trailer all the time?” you retorted, turning towards him as you put down your makeup brush on your desk. “The boy you’re in love with, do I know him?” Renjun repeated, the gears of his heart racing against his chest.

He doesn’t even know if he wants the answer to that question. “No,” you replied bluntly, adjusting the laces on your dress. “So you’re not in love with him anymore?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he crossed his arms against his chest and leaned against the door. “No, that’s not what I meant!” you huffed, feeling yourself getting frustrated the more he edged you on. “Look, it was a very, very long time ago when I first met him,” you rolled your eyes.

“It was back when my parents still made me move from city to city. Oh god, that city was practically made for him. The aura of the city radiated the same aura he had back when I first met him, cold and depressing. Nonetheless the more I got to know him, the more I realised that inside he was just a warm human being that needed someone to light up his perspective,” you sighed, clasping your hands together right in front of you. There was a loud ‘cuckoo!’ that pierced both of your ears, and suddenly, a small gear shot from Renjun’s heart and hit the wooden closet right beside you.

“Would you stop playing with your clock? You could injure someone, it won’t hurt to take it off occasionally, will it?” you exclaimed with a gasp, looking up at him with bold eyes as you put your hands on your hips. “I can’t help it, it’s not some bloody toy! It’s my heart,” he snapped back, his hands balled up into fists as he felt his blood boiling in his veins at the sound of you talking so highly of someone else that wasn’t him. The way you talked about whoever this boy is was the same way he talked about you to everyone else.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down when he saw your taken aback reaction, “I’m sorry.” You let out a deep sigh as you stood up from your desk, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the poor fellow. “Look, I would really appreciate it if we could become friends. How about we go down to the theater tomorrow? I heard Mister Doyoung made a new contraption to add to the cinematic universe,” you suggested, giving him a kind smile as you took his hand in yours to try and cheer him up a bit.

“I’d really like to go together.” No matter how much his heart was telling him to rest for the rest of his life, no matter how much in pain he’s currently in, but the moment he looked into your eyes, he knew he couldn’t say no.

“Would you care to share more information about your romeo?” Renjun asked, holding his wrist behind him as you two walked outside of the amusement park together after the show. “Oh, don’t call him that. I absolutely despise that specific work of Shakespeare’s,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you hopped over a pebble, grunting as you caught your balance. Renjun chuckled, “why so?” he asked, raising his brow at you.

“The typical damsel in distress trope never failed to make my blood boil like a pot of water on high heat,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I prefer to call him my Pip,” you giggled, climbing up a small hill before sitting on top of the grass and laying your head down with a content sigh. “Pip? Why Pip to be exact?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he took a seat next to your lying figure, leaning back against his palms. “A couple years ago, right before I left. We had this small debate on happy endings and shakespearean works,” you started, gazing up at the starry night sky.

“I would constantly babble on and on about how women shouldn’t be the damsel in distress, then one day he whipped out this book out of nowhere like some sort of magician! It was called the Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, I finally finished when I left the city so I never got around to returning the book he let me borrowed,” you sighed, placing your hands on your tummy as you giggled at the thought of your first love possibly getting mad at you for leaving without a goodbye with the addition of not returning his book back.

Renjun’s heart raced at your small story, his body froze as his ears grew a slight tint of pink (which wasn’t very visible, thanks to the dim lighting of the moon shining down upon the two of you) when he realised that you were talking about him. You were talking about him all along. “I realised why he let me borrow the book though, I asked for an unhappy ending without the female protagonist being the damsel in distress. It was a beautiful story, really,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you thought back to the times you shared back in Edinburgh.

“He would always listen to my rambles as he painted some random landscape in town, showing me his talents as well as listening to my words as I ranted about the foolish decisions of the characters. He reminds me of Pip a little bit. A bit childish, a bit foolish, a little bit misunderstood,” you went on, before pausing briefly, eyes opening to look up at your new friend. “Should I stop? I don’t want to bore you with my story, I tend to ramble a lot unintentionally,” you asked, receiving an aggressive shake of Renjun’s head.

“No! No! Keep going, I’m getting very interested in your story, do continue,” he laughed lightly, looking down at his clock, biting back his lip to keep himself from jumping for joy. “The last day I saw him- oh god, I remember it every night before I go to bed. I never had my glasses on around him, so my memory of his physical appearance is rather blurry. But I remembered it like it was yesterday. Sure, I might not recognize him today with my own eyes but I remembered we almost shared a kiss,” a wide smile stretched across your face as a warm feeling bubbled up inside of you at the vivid memory.

“Yeah?” Renjun couldn’t help but let a wide smile spread across his own lips at the thought, turning his head to the side to suppress the urge to tackle you in a strong embrace. You remembered. “He offered to be my eyes, he offered to keep me from straying down the wrong path. I never got a chance to say yes,” you giggled, rubbing your palms against your eyes as you felt a giddy feeling inside both of your chests. “Guess he was too eager to kiss you before you could say yes?” Renjun joked, grimacing at his own childishness.

You chuckled, shrugging simply. “I guess so, I didn’t mind though. It felt exhilarating. I didn’t know how it happened but he also tore a little bit of my dress as well,” you shook your head, looking back up at the stars scattered across the sky. Oh how Renjun was using all the strength vested inside of him to keep his heart from going ‘cuckoo!’ right in front of you right now. “He might not remember me, I sent him a postcard a couple weeks ago. I never received one back. But someday, when we reunite, I’d like to thank him for the lovely book and for teaching me what love feels like.”

“Everytime I’m near his company I would always feel so safe. So happy, so loved. Genuinely happy and genuinely loved,” you sighed, closing your eyes once again as you took in the fresh air. “I’m sure he felt the same,” Renjun felt his cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. “Hey, can we see each other again?” he spoke after a moment of comforting silence. “Alright, when?” you opened your eyes, squinting your eyes suspiciously at him. “Noon? At the theater, I have something to tell you,” he grinned.

“Alright then, is something wrong? Why the funny face?” you chuckled, sitting up from your laying position, cocking your head to the side as you raised your eyebrow at him. “Nothing, I’m just really excited to show you this,” he shook his head, he couldn’t hide his big smile from you any longer.

Just like how he couldn’t hide his longing and love for you that he has been harboring for the past two years.

“She’s in love with me,” he said to Doyoung, who gave him a proud grin in return. “Congratulations, my dear boy! You tamed the spark in your heart,” he gave Renjun a pat on the back, who smiled sadly in response. “But there’s a problem. She’s in love with the other me, the one back in Edinburgh,” he sighed, sitting down on one of the seats in the theater. “I don’t see why this is a problem. The ‘you’ back in Edinburgh is still the same ‘you’ now!” Doyoung furrowed his brows in confusion.

“I assume so, but what am I supposed to say to her?” Renjun ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Tell her how you feel! ‘It’s me! Renjun! The boy you loved oh-so-dearly for all these years! Your first love from Edinburgh, I have travelled far and wide all over Europe to find you, my love. So now let me take your hand and let’s venture and sail for the skies! In each other’s loving embrace!’” Doyoung boomed, throwing his hand in the air to make grand gestures as he spoke, standing up in the midst of his words.

“Quite poetic, but I tried. The words are jammed at the back of my throat and I can’t let them out,” Renjun huffed, internally cursing at himself for holding himself back because of a small guilt lingering in his chest. “You’re still afraid of what might become of your heart once you fall completely, aren’t you?” Doyoung sympathized, putting a hand on his hip as he frowned upon his young friend’s unfortunate condition. “A part of me is still guilty for putting all of Madam Wendy’s efforts in vain,” Renjun laughed bitterly.

“I thought you wanted to love and to be loved back, you mustn’t be afraid!” Doyoung encouraged, using the same tone he used previously to influence all of Renjun’s previous actions with a wide toothy smile. “You’re eighteen, you deserve the love you’ve been longing for, Renjun.”

Renjun bit back a smile, shaking his head out of his insecurities as he stood up to his feet. “You’re right, I should’ve just told her who I was at the start. You have to help me come up with something.”

“Renjun? Are you here?” You called out, entering the theater bashfully. “Right here, Ms!” Naeun, Doyoung’s new friend, coaxed, waving her hand to tell you to sit on the front row, right in front of the stage. A familiar merry tune played in the background as the curtains were pulled back to reveal two puppets of what appeared to be you and a familiar little boy from Edinburgh. Doyoung came into view, clearing his throat as Naeun strummed the chords of the song you sang on the day you met your first love with a ukulele in her hand.

“It was a lovely day in Edinburgh,” Doyoung began, looking towards the puppets. “Little miss y/n who was sixteen years old was dancing around in her dainty shoes, getting her feet all in a tangle before tumbling down to the floor due to her own clumsiness,” Renjun added with a small nervous laugh, moving his own little puppet around and towards the mini puppet version of yourself. “On the day they first met, she would ask ‘what’s that odd pitter patter?’ ‘What’s making that noise?’” Naeun hummed melodiously, causing your eyes to widen with every single word that comes out of their mouths.

“It’s just the rain, do you like the rain?” Renjun asked, shooting you a short glance as if to say ‘sounds familiar?’

You furrowed your brows, lips pressed into a thin line as you silently watched the performance in front of you, taking every single last bit of information they were sharing into your head as took in the meaning of their words. “Miss Y/n adored the sound of the rain, but however, all this time she didn’t realise that the sound she came to adore came from the tick tock of Renjun’s mechanical heart,” Doyoung recited, looking down on his little card before sharing a knowing look with Renjun and Naeun upon seeing the flabbergasted expression etched on your face.

“Oh, how if he had told her where that pitter patter had come from, would she recognize him the instant they reunite? Would Renjun have to suffer the pain of travelling half across Europe to see her only to not be recognized for the little lady could not rely on her own eyes?” he added on, adding a bit of suspense as the settings on the puppet show changed slightly to the two of you sitting on top of a crescent moon side by side, sending you flashbacks to the last day you saw your first love.

“Perhaps, if he had told her, would she have believed him and sampled the magical intimacy of blending dream and reality?”

Soon, your eyes got glossy with tears. Your heart racing rapidly against your chest as you sat there in complete silence, the new information overwhelming your sentences as you watched the two puppets kissed on the crescent moon, the exact same way you were supposed to kiss two years ago. You sniffled, putting a hand up against one of your eyes to keep your tears from falling as Renjun walked up towards you and off of the stage with his hands behind his back.

The curtains closed as he gave you a boyish smile, outstretching his hand to show you the piece of fabric he accidentally tore from your dress and the postcard you had sent out almost a month ago. You gasped, delicate fingers gently grabbing the postcard to inspect it. It was indeed the postcard you had sent, it was indeed your handwriting, it was indeed the same filthy postcard you sent a month ago.

Within a few seconds, you fell unconscious as all this information was too much for you to handle.

“Oh bloody hell, we killed her!” Renjun cried out in panic, taking a step back in alarm at your sudden concussion. Doyoung and Naeun’s head shot from in between the curtains, hissing at him to not panic and carry you back to your trailer. He sucked his bottom lip as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your knees and your back, making you lean against his chest, your head so close to his. He gulped as he walked out of the theater, nervously praying to whatever God up there is watching him to not make him drop you in the middle of the streets.

But fortunately for him, he managed to carry you back to your bed safe and sound. Laying your head on the pillow, he stood idly on the side of your bed, watching your sleeping features. You looked so content, his fingers itched to run themselves around your hair and to caress your cheeks. Oh how he longed to nuzzle his nose against yours lovingly and how he longed to press his lips against yours-

‘A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!’

He grunted as his body twitched as his guardian’s words flashed through his mind like lightning and thunder, Madam Wendy’s sorrowful expression couldn’t help but make its way through his mind, causing his body to twitch once again. He took deep, staggering breaths as he palmed his heart in pain, eyes moving over to your sleeping figure before Madam Wendy appeared once again in his vision.

‘Do you know why I saved your life?’

“If you really are the boy from my time in Edinburgh, why did you wait all this time?”

His head shot up at the sound of your voice, his eyes wandered to your figure as you stared down at the piece of fabric. “What can I say? You’re an idiot, I feared you won’t recognize me considering you’ve never actually used your glasses during our small encounters,” Renjun chuckled sadly, sitting on your bed as you sat up and leaned on the headboard. “You didn’t even say goodbye, I thought you left because you were in shock of my sudden concussion on that day,” he said half-jokingly, putting a hand behind his neck.

You gave him a sad smile, caressing the postcard with your thumb. “My parents were tricked that day. They trusted the wrong person and the police got a hold of them, my mother left me outside all alone so the police wouldn’t find me and take me away too,” you explained, pulling your knees to your chest as you leaned your chin on your arms. “I remembered being so alone, so cold. That’s why I decided to flee Edinburgh, we weren’t allowed to stay for too long. Our neighbour told us they were going to get us permits but the next day… unfortunately that happened.”

Renjun’s heart ached for you, he never wanted to see you sad. Even though you weren’t supposed to be in Edinburgh in the first place, he felt slightly selfish for it. If it weren’t for the fact that your parents had moved her, maybe your parents would still be by your side to this day. However you can’t change what’s been done, the past is the past. He couldn’t do anything to make the pain of losing a parent go away that easily.

He placed a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb soothingly against your knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort you. You smiled at him, scooting closer to Renjun without hesitation. “I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t know,” Renjun spoke briefly, letting your fingers intertwine with his own tightly. He reached over to his pocket, pulling out the key to his heart and tugged your intertwined fingers together. “I can’t make the pain of losing your loved ones go away like a magician could, but the only thing I can assure you is that I’m not going anywhere and this key is the living proof of it.”

He laid the small golden key in your palm, tucking your fingers against it. “This is the key that winds me up, without it, I would be knocked out for good,” he chuckled, gazing his eyes deeply into yours. “You can wind me up, open up my heart, do whatever you want,” he shrugged, watching you scoot closer to him and mirrored the same actions as the ones he showed you on the Ghost Train. “If it hurts, don’t hesitate to tell me,” you informed him, turning the key to the right slowly.

“It doesn’t usually hurt,” he laughed lightly, eyes filled with love and adoration. He felt his heart spark up with the same comforting flame you manage to set. He found comfort in the love of his life gently caressing his fragile heart as if it was made out of the rarest jewels in existence.

He found comfort in you. You really are the key to his heart.

“There you are, you little brat!” the owner of the ghost train spat, entering the trailer quite rudely. “You there, what are you doing holding back my employee? As if he doesn’t slack off enough on the job,” she sighed exasperatedly, taking out another cig from her pocket before lighting it up. “You have ten minutes to get there, it’s almost starting,” she hissed, her tone filled with anger and malice as she made her way out of the trailer with a huff of breath.

You and Renjun shared knowing looks, giggling softly as you pulled the key out of his heart. “I think we should get going,” you said in an almost hushed tone as if you were to make a louder sound, you would break the comforting silence between the two of you. You outstretched your hand to give him back his key but Renjun shook his head at you, chuckling softly as he gently curled your fingers against the key in your palms and gently pushed your hand back towards you.

“Keep it, I insist,” he shook his head. “What? No, don’t be silly! It’s the key to your heart, Renjun. It’s yours, I can’t keep it,” you shook your head receiving the same chuckle from the boy in front of you. “No, from now on, it’s yours,” he grabbed your free hand in his, intertwining your fingers once again. “Let’s run away together,” he suggested, squeezing your hand in his as he crossed his legs together.

“Excuse me?” your eyes widened at his words. “After your show, run away with me and let’s make the world our oyster,” he gave you the widest grin he could muster, his cheeks was starting to hurt from smiling too much and for too long. He didn’t know where the sudden suggestion came from his mind but he wanted to do what he’s always dreamt of doing with you, to sail for the skies hand in hand with you by his side. (And maybe live a content life in a cottage with three cats and a whole art studio, but that can wait. After all, he’s waited this long to finally reunite with you)

“This is going to sound very cliche but where would we even go?” you giggled, finding his eagerness quite adorable considering it was a rare sight to see, even back when you were still in Edinburgh. “I don’t know, anywhere! The seas, the trees, as long as I’m with you I’m willing to make do with anywhere. As long as you say yes,” he squeezed your hand encouragingly against his, loving eyes pleading for you to say yes. And the smile you gave him was enough to give him his answer.

Renjun ran all over the amusement park with his suitcase in hand, the sound of your voice booming through the speakers as he felt the adrenaline rush through his veins, happiness surging through every part of his body. He was finally living, he was no longer going to live in the same, miserable hollow shell he had been living his whole entire life. A bright smile spread across his face as he entered the theater, panting heavily.

“Well then?” Doyoung pipped up, putting his hands at his hips as Renjun gained his composure as though Renjun’s wide smile hadn’t given him the answer he was hoping for. “She loves me, the real me,” he sighed exasperatedly, putting his hands on his chest as he could hardly believe it himself. “Congratulations, my dear boy! I’m delighted for you, absolutely delighted,” he gave Renjun a hug and patted his back as if he was his own younger brother.

“We’re going to run away for the hills together after her show, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sure I wouldn’t have done this without your help,” Renjun beamed, pulling away to shake his old friend’s hand enthusiastically, his mechanical heart racing rapidly against his chest at the thought of eloping with you all over Europe. “I’m going to miss you, Renjun. Do write to me from time to time,” he gave him a nod, a proud smile etched on his face, causing Renjun to chuckle and nod. “Of course.”

As Renjun was in the middle of packing, your show had finally ended. You snuck back in your trailer to pack your own clothes, but then you saw none other than one of your fellow performers, Choi San, sitting on your desk with a small piece of paper in hand. “San? What on earth are you doing here?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you took out your suitcases from your closet. “I heard you’re going to run off with that new boy,” he grinned, chuckling slightly as he smacked the paper against your desk. “Renjun? Oh! Turns out, he was the boy I fell in love with back in Edinburgh,” you giggled, shoving random clothes into your suitcase, your makeup bags, your shoes, anything you could possibly fit into one single bag.

“I need to tell you something before you get into serious trouble,” San informed, giving you a hard expression before hopping off your desk to hand you the piece of paper. “I was doing my daily letter checking at the post office and I found this in the mail, it was from Renjun’s guardian from Edinburgh,” he sighed, crossing his arms as you opened the piece of paper to reveal a fancy handwriting underneath. “It tells you everything you need to know about Renjun.”

You squinted, pulling your glasses from your purse and putting them on. “What are you going on about here, San?” you furrowed your brows as you read through the letter. It was indeed from the ‘Madam Wendy’ Renjun would always rant to you about during your days together back in Edinburgh. “That thing he calls a heart, it’s not what you think it is. It’s a grenade, a ticking time bomb waiting to be triggered, he’s dangerous, y/n,” San informed, his hard expression turning into worry.

“I'm just glad I came here before it was too late,” he sighed in relief, looking down at his feet. “No, San, you must be mistaken. Renjun wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s absolutely harmless!” You shook your head, refusing to believe his words as you looked down at the letter. “For now, but until he loses control of his heart and therefore fails to abide by the three rules Wendy had given him on the day he was born,” San informed, his eyes narrowing at the letter.

“The three rules?” you furrowed your brows at him, watching as San’s expression grew dim with sympathy. “Everything you need to know is in that letter, I’ll give you some time to yourself,” San patted your back with a comforting smile before exiting the trailer, leaving you with the letter and your own thoughts.

“Are you trying to make me a murderer?!” you exclaimed, exiting your trailer with your fists clenched up tightly by your side. “Excuse me?” Renjun furrowed his brows in confusion, being taken aback as he took a step towards you with his suitcase in hand. “What are you even talking about?” he asked, letting the air sink back into his lungs from all the running he had to do all over the amusement park. “Madam Wendy told me everything in this letter,” you shoved the letter against his chest, watching as shock took over his features.

“Wendy sent a letter?” he gaped, his jaw dropping to the floor as he inspected what seems to be his caretaker’s handwritten letter. “She told me about the three rules, how you ran away against her wishes, everything! Were you not going to tell me these important details?” you hopped off of the first few steps of your trailer to come closer to the boy you love deeply in front of you. “Or did you forget to tell me something as serious as that?” you snapped, sadness and betrayal flossing over your eyes.

Renjun felt his heart sink into his stomach at your hurtful expression, he was so caught up in the fantasy of running away with you, he completely forgot about his fragile condition for a brief moment. “Who even are you, Renjun? I want to know who’s the man I’m falling in love with,” you gripped the hem of your dress to keep yourself from screaming at him out of pure frustration and anger, feeling your heart ready to explode at the fact that you had the potential to kill him if your relationship proceeded from this far on.

“I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if you died,” you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat, looking down to hide your glossy eyes as you tried your best not to think of what would happen to him if you hadn’t received that letter.

Renjun froze in place, his eyes turning glossy with his own tears as he watched you speak, the words jammed at the back of his throat as he knew, deep down, there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was far too late, he can’t do anything to change your mind anymore. “I refuse to love you, I refuse to be a murderer. That’s not my idea of love,” you shook your head at him, putting the back of your hand against your eyelids to wipe away the tears. Every word that came out of your mouth felt like a dagger into his mechanical heart. It hurt. Renjun was hurting. His heart was breaking right in front of you, and you both knew it.

“It’s selfish,” you couldn’t help but splutter out. “No, wait. You got it all wrong, y/n,” he finally spoke up, frustration filling his veins as he found the courage to speak up. “Oh, so you didn’t escape your guardian’s home without permission, thus causing her to worry about you for the past few weeks with no information whatsoever?” you snapped, putting your hands on your hips after you wiped your tears away. “Yes, but that isn’t the problem here!” he shook his head, taking a step towards you as he groaned in frustration.

“There you go! Oh, so now you’re going to disobey another rule and lose your temper?”

“It’s not like that! Just listen to me-” Renjun reached his hand out to your face before his body started twitching in pain, causing him to drop on his knees as gears and screws popped out of his heart. You gasped, watching as your lover writhe in pain on his knees, letting out pained grunts for the next fifteen seconds right in front of you. Thus, giving you a brief image of what was going to happen if you continued on.

“You’re scaring me, Renjun.”

“I’m sorry.” he breathed out, putting his hand on his knees as he ignored the steaming state of his cuckoo clock heart. Your eyes softened at his guilty figure, your hands laying limp by your sides as you let out a sad sigh. “Goodbye, Renjun.” Were your last words before you walked away from him, leaving him to deal with his own pain.

“I did the craziest things for you. My life isn’t always topsy turvy when it comes to love, but I put my life in your hands because I truly love you,” Renjun confessed, causing you to pause in your step. You inhaled deeply, not giving him a spare glance. “Yes, I agree, your actions are inhumane at this point, but count me out, Renjun,” you hissed back, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep yourself from shaking and breaking down right in front of him. “I’d prefer you to be hurt like this than dead, I can’t live with myself if I was the reason for your passing,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes briefly.

“Please just leave me alone. I’m not running away with you.”

You didn’t look back as you walked away, ignoring the sound of a distraught Renjun getting to his knees, holding his heart in pain. His eyes scrunched up in pain as he let out small grunts, trying to get to his feet back to make his way back to the theater. He collapsed back to the concrete ground as soon as he got to his feet, the ear piercing sound of his clock falling apart before him lingered in his mind as cogs and screws popped out of his makeshift heart. He wanted to scream out your name and plead for you to come back into his embrace, but he knew you wouldn’t turn back.

So he did the only thing that came into his mind in order to stop this unbearable pain. He got up to his feet, putting two hands on his clock and pulled hard, ignoring the physical pain it brought him as he tried to rip out his own heart from his chest. Letting out a scream of pain as he collapsed to the floor, pieces of wood and metal scattering across the floor and drops of blood dripping from the doors of his heart.

“Renjun!”

Doyoung and Naeun came up to Renjun as quickly as they could, holding him up as he coughed heavily. “I want to change into a new clock, I’m so tired of this one constantly falling into bits every time I feel the slightest bit of joy,” he mumbled almost monotonously, letting out another fit of coughs afterward. “Madam Wendy was right,” he added with a light painful laugh. “I suppose I have some spare parts to help you fix your clock from my camera, I’ll go get them-” Doyoung insisted but Renjun gripped on the older man’s wrist urgently.

“No, I want a new heart. I’m tired of this one. One that works. I’ll never fall in love again,” he leaned over, cupping his mouth as he coughed once again, feeling more gears pop out of his clock like a confetti from a canon. “You’re running out of time, Renjun, you must seek help immediately. Is there anything you can do to salvage what’s left of your heart until you get back to Edinburgh?” Doyoung asked, furrowing his brows. “I can’t, I gave the key to Y/n. She left me, I can’t get it back anymore,” Renjun shook his head sadly, looking down at his own blood staining his fingertips.

“That key is your life, Renjun! You took a huge risk,” Doyoung shook his head at how deeply in love the boy in front of him was. “I know,” he mumbled, his words becoming more breathy by the moment. “You must return to Edinburgh and have Wendy patch you up again, it’s the only way to save your life,” Doyoung slung an arm around his shoulder, lifting him up as Naeun helped with carrying his suitcase.

Doyoung led a heartbroken Renjun onto a carriage to the nearest train station. He insisted on coming with the young lad but Renjun wanted to face the consequences of his actions alone, he couldn’t bear to rip his friend away from the path of success he was walking into. So, with a heavy heart, Renjun rode the train back to Edinburgh with his eyes closed and his heart hurting like hell against his chest.

‘This must be the same feeling Pip went through when Estella finally broke his heart to elope with some other man she didn’t love.’ he thought bitterly to himself.

“Madam Wendy what?” your jaw dropped as San shared a new bit of information.

He leaned over, showing you the newspaper he was reading which informed you that Madam Wendy had passed in her prison cell. Apparently, she was caught for tampering with mechanics on a dangerous level with her other patients and was thrown in jail once again, but the disappearance of her adopted child had a great impact on her health, therefore she left her body in the cell she was staying in.

“Oh, no. Oh dear god, no,” you hopped out of San’s performance tent, patting your pockets and pulling out the key that belongs to Renjun’s heart. “What’s wrong?” San asked, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth as he stood up as well, worried as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Renjun gave me the key to his heart, I forgot to give it back,” you yelled back, running as quick as you could to the theater, the only place where Renjun could be at the moment.

You knocked as hard as you could, calling out the boy’s name in a panic. “Miss Y/n? What are you doing here?” Doyoung asked, opening the door as he rubbed his eyes from the lack of sleep. “Can you tell me where I can find Renjun? I still have the key to his heart,” you asked in an abrupt tone, showing the older man the key in your palms. “Nothing to worry about, Miss! He’s on his way back to Edinburgh as we speak, Doctor Wendy can patch him up in a jiffy!” Doyoung smiled.

“That’s what I’m afraid of, oh god, no. But Madam Wendy’s passed away,” you informed, clenching your fists with the key in your hand. Doyoung’s eyes widened in surprise, his face turning pale at your words. “Oh boy, that isn’t good news. Go after him, hurry! Save Renjun before it’s too late, that’s what he wants more than anything. I put him on a carriage to the nearest train station. If you’re lucky, you might catch him on the train before it departs,” Doyoung rummaged through his bag, pulling out a random journal.

“Here, take this. In case you don’t catch up to him, here’s something to read on the way. It’s a journal I kept ever since the very day I met Renjun,” he handed you the journal as Naeun called another carriage for you to ride to the train station. You sighed, your head filled with worry as you looked up at the two adults willing to help you save Renjun despite the fact that you were the main reason why he was in this mess in the first place.

“Thank you.”

Renjun laid in the snow, near the house where he used to call home. Sniffling as he leaned against the tree at the bottom of the hill. Joy and Yeri had contacted him and brought him the news of his caretaker’s passing. Sulking as guilt took over his body, regretting every single decision he had made the past few months. And now he’s going to suffer the consequences of dying all alone. He couldn’t walk into his own home after the news, choosing to lay down under the snow to let himself slowly freeze to death and possibly hypothermia.

So now, he was taking his last few breaths, enjoying the bright sky as he watched his skin froze, tears slowly turning into eyes as he laid there all heartbroken and damaged. His hair was white from the snowfall, with bits of brown peaking out in between as he sniffled and sobbed over the loss of his mother. Taking deep breaths to regain his composure, as his skin grew numb against the cold.

“Renjun! I’m here!”

It was as if the God above had decided to send an angel back to help him, he slowly looked up with half lidded eyes, a small shaky smile spreading across his lips as you fell to your knees to help him. “Renjun, oh dear god, no,” you whimpered, leaning close as you laid a hand on his jaw, making him lean his head up to look at you weakly. You grimaced at his cold skin, it felt like ice to you. It was as if he was turning into a giant ice cube right in front of you.

His appearance made your heart break. He looked so pale and broken since the last time you saw him. His eyes were red and swollen from the tears, snow gathering on his eyelashes, eyebrows, hair and clothing. Hell, he was wearing nothing but the thin coat he wore the last time you saw him. Dried blood was stuck to his cuckoo clock heart which was in a worse condition than it was back in Andalusia. You ran your thumb over his soft cheek, making him lean his face against your warm touch as you wiped the snow away from his skin. His breathing was slow, as if he was taking every breath he could before his last.

With a shaky hand, you placed what's left of his heart back into their original place, your breathing becoming shaky as you held back your tears. It truly hurt you to see Renjun in this state, you knew he was on the brink of death. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if you had arrived much much later.

You pulled out the key to his heart from the inner pocket of your coat, leaning forward to press the key into his heart. But alas, his hand stopped you as he gently gripped your wrist and pulled it away from him. “No, I’m not too late. I’m not letting you die here, just let me turn the key,” you shook your head, blinking back the tears as you pushed your glasses up from the bridge of your nose. “I came back to save you, please just let me do this,” you pleaded, caressing his cheek with your thumb in a futile attempt to convince the love of your life to let you save him.

“You came all the way back for me,” a tear streaked down Renjun’s cheek which froze under the cold atmosphere, sticking to his cheek. “That’s the most extraordinary turn you could ever give my heart,” he laughed slightly, half lidded eyes trying their best to stay open as his vision began to grow blurry and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was losing consciousness or if it was because of the tears he was holding back.

He tugged the key out of your hand before tossing it over the hill. “No, Renjun, what did you do?!” you panicked, your eyes growing wide at the key disappearing from your line of vision. “No, why did you do that?” you shook your head at him, pressing your body close to him as he leaned his back against the tree. “From now on, whatever happens to me,” Renjun spoke, giving you the same boyish smile he sent your way on your last day in Edinburgh two years ago. “I’ll only have myself to blame,” he sighed, intertwining your free hand with his icy cold one.

“So now you can kiss me.”

Your heart broke as you finally let your tears go, squeezing his hand tightly in yours as you sniffled. “As I said before, the things you do are absolutely inhumane,” you pushed your forehead against his, feeling your tears hit his wet clothes as you felt his other hand go to your jaw. “I’m just upset I never got to give you the painting I’d been working so hard on for all these years,” he chuckled, his eyes growing even more red as his tears streamed down his face like a leaking tap.

He caressed your jaw in his hand, eyes scanning your face one last time as he came with the fact that this was your last goodbye before he leaves for good. “If we were ever to be reborn again, I would still wish and pray for the gods to make you my first and last love,” he couldn’t help but laugh to stifle a sob that erupted from his throat. “And if we were ever to be reborn again, I hope you can always continue to smile like that until the day you close your eyes for good,” you nuzzled your forehead against his, sniffling hard.

Thus with eyes clenched shut, you and Renjun pressed your lips together in unison for a passionate yet innocent kiss. You could hear the last strike of Renjun’s ticking clock, a loud ‘cuckoo’ piercing the quiet atmosphere as Renjun pulled you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your back and leaning his head to the side for a better angle. Your warm soft lips pressed onto his cold chapped ones, wet from the snow. Your intertwined hands squeezing each other as you felt his mechanical heart put a ring on your own.

The next time Renjun opened his eyes, he was at the gates of heaven, standing in front of an actual angel with a bright expression on his face. “Huang Renjun, I assume?” the angel greeted, a soft smile spreading across their face as Renjun nodded. “You seem a bit too young to be up in heaven. Aren’t you just 18 years old?” the angel asked, pulling out a clipboard to look through Renjun’s life data. “I was almost nineteen, though,” Renjun shrugged, his wide smile never disappearing from his facial features.

“I’m so sorry you had to leave life so soon, young man,” the angel cooed, taking out a pen from their desk as they began to fill out Renjun’s form for his plans now that he’s in the afterlife. “Care to tell me what happened while I do the paperwork for you?” the angel asked, sticking their tongue out as they wrote Renjun’s life information on the glowing paper with a messy handwriting, reminding him of the postcard you had sent him less than a couple months ago.

Renjun looked around the bright place he was in, sighing heavily as he stared up the gates of heaven with a content expression. He swiped his tongue over his pink lips as he finally felt his heart no longer empty,

“I fell in love.”

a/n: i didn’t like how this turned out lmfao but oh well HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, HUANG RENJUN MWUAH

¤ taglist: @leetaeyonglover @lebrookestore @oifelixcmerebrou @vera-liscious @kunrengui @thats-a-jen-no-no

#NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #neoculturecafe #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #renjun x reader #huang renjun x reader #nct u x reader #nct renjun x reader #nct angst #renjun angst #renjun scenarios #huang renjun scenarios #nct dream renjun x reader

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pseudofaux · 4 years ago

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I hope I'm not too late 🥺 I'm on mobile and cant see times!!!! If I am too late please ignore BUT IF NOT...............I would die for some soft, wonderful reassurance sex HCs for ikesen Mitsuhide, slbp Ieyasu(of course!!!), and ikevamp Jean? Sometimes it's hard to accept you're loved. I hope you and yours are well, and happy birthday 💕🍰

You were not too late, you were well within time! 💕💕💕 And I’m so glad because this ask is beautiful. 😩😭💕 It can be really hard to accept that fact (even when it’s a fact!), so here’s how I think IkeSen Mitsuhide, SLBP Ieyasu, and IkeVamp Jean would do their best to make the thought stick in your head and your heart. Mitsuhide is a flow-y short drabble (I really loved the idea and didn’t want to cut ANY of it), Ieyasu is bullet points, Jean is a few short descriptive paragraphs. They are all soft but going under a cut where they belong. I hope you will enjoy them!

In your room one evening, you are dressed for sleep and Mitsuhide is not, since he just arrived. He’s frowning at you. But the touch of his hands (one on your cheek, one on your waist) is very soft. What tiny matters upset a mouse so badly, hmm? When you shake your head and move away, he lets you move but he moves with you, staying right in your space, not letting the two of you become disconnected in the room. If you want to be chased, you must remember I am very fast and do not play fair, he tells you gently. Tell me what is wrong. Not a request. He lets the silence between you stretch until it forces ugly fears out of your mouth in a spill, terrible and messy. Your tears follow the words. He tries to give you time to finish but in the end can’t stand to let you cry alone, so he takes you in his arms and tucks your head under his chin. Firmly. Then he sighs. Until you are empty, he says evenly, I will hold you. So for now, focus only on emptying your body of tears. I do not care about these clothes very much. That really starts you sobbing, that he would give you such sideways permission to ruin his fine kimono. He does exactly as he said he would: holds you until you seem to have no more tears left to make. Then he takes your hand and puts his arm around your back to guide you to your futon. Only somewhat kindly-- he’s frowning again-- he says, Lay down and listen well, little mouse, and he holds your hand to help you kneel and settle yourself on the softness. Empty? he asks. You nod, pitifully, not sure if you should hope he will stay or if you should hope he will leave you so you can go to sleep. You’re so wrung out from al these emotions. Good. He straddles your so quickly that for a moment you are more startled than sad. His hands are at the flat knot of your sleeping robe, and it makes you want to cry all over again. You don’t want to be pitied, you want to be worth. But he is very fast, and he does not play fair. Already your robe is open, already he has moved his hands to his own, sodden-shouldered, daytime clothes. If you had made this for me I would not have let you ruin it, he says lightly, shrugging the white cloth off his shoulders. Now. Do you know what a man does for a woman he loves? You have to shake your head, he’s asked something you can’t answer with any confidence. His mouth becomes a flat line, but he comes down to you and kisses your forehead as soft and sweet as a breeze. How can he do both things with the same mouth? He moves his legs to be inside yours-- you can’t see it, but you can feel him, and feel the slip of his kimono falling onto your legs. Mitsuhide hushes your choked whisper of his name and says When the woman he loves is empty, he fills her. And he does.

Ieyasu can, not very deeply down at all, understand why you might think this. And he resents the hell out of you for not seeing through him, but he resents himself more. Now he has to fix this.

C’mere, he says, slapping the bedding next to him. Right here. Now.

You pause but shuffle over and he tries not to sigh in relief. Take... you don’t need that, he gestures at your sleeping robe. Get rid of it.

Another night you might have tried to be modest, but your heart is so lonely and tired you don’t have the fight in you. So you just untie the robe and drop it without ceremony, put your head down, and prepare for him to berate you. You have to wonder what invective he’ll unleash, because he’s never actually had anything bad to say about your body before, only your cooking and your mood and your...

He mumbles something you can’t understand, so you look up out of habit to try to read his lips.

I don’t see anything I don’t like, he says, trying to invite your understanding with his eyes instead of glaring at you (he can tell it is not working).

Oh, hell, just come here, he says, yanking you down by the wrist until you’re all knees around his lap and at least as confused as you are sad. He sucks his teeth and then goes for it, grabbing your cheeks with his books-and-medicine scented hands and pressing his mouth to yours.

Hard, several times. Then softer, winding down.

I don’t hate you, he whispers. When you are this close and no one who is a danger to you can hear it, that’s when he can say it.

So he keeps you as close as he can, and the best way he can think of to do that is to get you safely between his bedding and his body.

His brows are down so severely he looks like he’s pouting, and while you don’t think anyone saying “I don’t hate you,” even in a whisper, is the same as being told “I love you,” you do think he means it.

For someone who literally yanked your body to his, he’s tender the rest of the night-- his eyes are hot whenever they meet yours from his space between your legs, and his tongue is so much softer than sharp as he works you over.

Still, you cry out Why? as he breaks you, and your mind is so mixed up for a moment you think you are imagining the slippery, tangy kiss he gives you. But you are not.

Why not? he says against your mouth. He’s close again, he can be honest. This is what people do when they are in love. And I... hells, woman. Read the room.

There’s a franticness to his tone that stirs your pity (and perhaps your sense), and you ask in a small voice if you can touch his hair.

Why aren’t you doing it already, he grumbles. And that exchange is so normal it is like a powerful arrow, shot right through the stormcloud that has moved over your heart. It lets it a golden beam of sun, warm and known and nourishing. The comfort of undeniable love, even if unexpressed.

He mumbles something you can’t hear as he puts his own fingers in your hair and presses his forehead to yours. But you know what it is.

Jean knows what it is to feel unloved, so he’s horrified when he finds you and you tell him your fear. He also can’t understand why you have the fear-- to him the two of you are so very close and in tune with one another, you don’t always understand each other but this is a very significant truth to misunderstand. He wants to fix it but he grapples with his own heartbreak that what he thought were clear declarations of his love for you (and devotion to you!) somehow fell short. Still, he kisses your hand and declares again. “I do love you. Only you. I will find a way to make this unmistakable.”

But he is not sure how to avoid further mistake. So he asks the great lovers of history who conveniently live with you both. He receives some strange advice, some terrible. He takes the gently-given suggestion that he should go out of town with you, try in a new setting with a very comfortable bed.

“Is there any mistake?” he asks above you in that bed. Your weekend away has restored you, brought you closer. You think of his hand brushing yours, once, twice, then sliding his fingers along and between, into the places where he fits so well. As soon as you begin to shake your head, his mouth is on yours and he is sighing in obvious relief. “Just to be sure,” he says between kisses, “I am going to tell you a hundred times tonight.” When you tell him you probably will not keep count, he promises that he will. and he does, even as he touches you with so much purpose a mathematician in his place would surely have lost count and had to begin again. Jean can’t begin again because he won’t stop-- his body serves yours, covers yours, loves yours the entire night. He goes over the mark by a few, loving you. He does not mind, and by the time he is done you are asleep and your mouth is curved in the peaceful contentment he knows is love, because he recognizes it from his own face in the mirror since he fell in love with you. He will tell you that when you wake up.

#ikesen mitsuhide #slbp ieyasu #ikevamp jean #ikesen headcanon #slbp headcanons #ikevamp headcanons #moonlit--river #pseu posts instead of saving: extreme dope edition #pseu slings

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astrology-india · 4 years ago

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Dating a Scorpio Man - Vital Things a Woman Must Know

New Post has been published on https://www.astrology-india.com/dating-a-scorpio-man/

Dating a Scorpio Man - Vital Things a Woman Must Know

Are you thinking about dating a Scorpio man? If so, chances are you are probably trying to figure this fella out.

His deep, dark, and mysterious ways are likely to intrigue you. This bad boy type of the zodiac is a natural head-turner. But I am sure you cannot stop wondering,

“Is there more to this guy than meets the eye?”

Best Match for Dating a Scorpio Man

At the surface level, the Scorpio male seems like a good fit for all zodiac signs that have been attracted to him, or, at least that is what they convince themselves.

But it is below the surface, in the deep waters of this emotion-based sign, that make or break a relationship with this man.

A guy born under the zodiac sign of Scorpio can be a deep and complex water character. Getting to know him will likely puzzle you.

He is much less of a head-scratcher than his fellow water’s- female Cancer and Pisces who tend to form close emotional bonds with the Scorpio man, and through them, they remain loyal.

Of course, the Scorpio male is a good match for other Scorpios as well.

The secret of dating any man, but especially one born in the sign of the Scorpion, is that you bring out his deep-rooted obsession of being a hero to the woman he loves.

I don’t mean a hero as a knight in shining armor on a white horse rescuing a damsel in distress.

But a woman allows her guy to feel his love by doing things that will create harmony in the relationship.

If you want to understand one of the main components of successfully dating a Scorpio man, I suggest you listen to relationship expert James Bauer who explains His Secret Obsession here.

Scorpio Man Dating Habits

So, the two of you decided to go out? You are probably imagining that the Scorpio is going to pick you up and take you out on his motorcycle and then share his heart with you.

Well, he may do the first, but definitely not the latter!!!

He is adventurous though, and quite the passionate guy. So, if it is exciting, the Scorpio wants to go there, and since he likes to feel as though he is leading, this is where he will take you.

A date with this man can be anything from a night out on the town dancing, to a restaurant he is really into, a concert, an art show- the list goes on.

Scorpio Man Dating Traits

Few could ever turn down the gaze of a Scorpio man. The intensity of it will make your jaw drop and pull you right in.

But after he says “hello” and you chat it up a bit with the charming fellow, where do you guys go from there?

If it is on a date, then there are a few things you need to know.

Scorpio is a water sign. But let us forget everything you know about them, like with the go with the flow Pisces or friendly and helpful Cancer, for instance. This guy is completely different.

Water signs are ruled by their emotion and Scorpio is ruled by Mars, the planet of energy, action, and desire.

With the Scorpio, you have an intense, burning, and passionate type of water. For many romantics, you are probably saying “say no more” right now.

The man is also a doer. He is going to get the job done one way or another. This can be accredited not only to Mars but to his sign being fixed also.

Due to this aspect, he is more grounded than the other water signs, but he is also less adaptable and fluid- less willing to budge.

But he is loyal. If he lets you into his deep-running well that is his inner-world, it means the man is committed.

And if he lets you into his bedroom for some fun, then you can rest assured that he is mad about you.

And “mad” is the correct word because the Scorpio can be a many-layered individual.

Scorpio Man Characteristics

His characteristics are deep, dark, and mysterious for a reason.

Nobody is deep, dark, and mysterious only to be a ball of sunshine and have all of their “stuff” together after you get to know them (unless they are faking the funk).

For the Scorpio guy, it is not a show or a “cool guy” act that he puts on at all.

The Scorpio man is this way because he is truly and deeply emotional to his core, and sometimes these emotions can be dark and troublesome.

He can appear mysterious because he is as complex as his feelings are. The Scorpio man is really just trying to figure them all out on the inside, even if he looks stoic to the outside world.

This is why he does best with other water signs. Because not only can they relate, they also do not mind messy emotions and the dark places of others.

This may be something that more grounded, light and cheery signs will have a hard time dealing with in the long run.

Sex with a Scorpio Man

The Scorpio man’s whole vibe is sexy. In fact. The Scorpio is the most sexual in the zodiac.

Due to this, the male sometimes gets a bad wrap for sleeping around, but contrary to popular belief, the Scorpio does not approach sex lightly.

Sex with a Scorpio is usually intense, passionate, physical, and emotional.

Those that have experienced it have said that it is nothing short of mind-blowing.

It is a spiritual experience where two souls become one. But let us be clear, this guy is not going to show this side of himself to just anyone.

The Scorpio male understands probably more than anyone that sex is a spiritual experience shared with a person you are emotionally connected to and physically invested in.

He has an active mind and an even more active imagination, so a woman whispering in his ear during lovemaking will drive his erotic senses to boiling point.

Sexual relationship expert Felicity Keith explains this powerful technique The Language of Desire here.

Dating a Scorpio Man Long Distance

The best thing about dating a Scorpio long distance is that you can be pretty sure he will stay loyal.

He is one of the signs that can make any phone conversation or facetime session seem interesting, because not only is he deep emotionally, but he is psychologically this way as well.

If you two are not discussing your feelings, he will be asking you about your day and actually listening.

That, or he will be going on about something he is passionate about, which there is always something.

Scorpio represents “things hidden”, and his ability to turn over rocks and penetrate the core of just about any topic rarely makes for boring convos.

Long-distance dating inevitably throws up problems in communication. Phone calls and emails are no substitute for human touch and personal connection.

Drifting apart can easily occur if you have no system in place that reinforces the emotional bonds.

A program that has helped 100s of women to connect with a man’s subconscious mind, has been developed by relationship expert Amy North.

It is called Text Chemistry and has been successful in sowing the seeds of desire in a man’s mind, and even re-uniting couples after a breakup.

If you want your guy to focus his attention on you, then listen to this short video in which Amy explains the words that will have him dreaming of you.

Final Thoughts

If you are looking to give it a go with the Scorpio guy just be sure you like intensity and emotions, and sometimes, emotional ups and downs that can take some sorting out.

The romantic journey with Scorpio is for the long haul. This is one of the most – if not the most — dedicated signs of the zodiac.

If you are not bothered getting dark every once in a while, then the Scorpio man relationship will be exciting, intense, passionate, romantic, and if handled correctly will last for the long haul.

#Dating #Scorpio man

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janiedean · 3 years ago

Note

crack prompt inspired by all the tvd talk on your blog: damon, jaime, tony stark all walk into a bar alone and end up drunk oversharing ~~

(if you wanna include ships in it anything with delena/dalaric/bamon; brienne; pepper/bruce/strange/rhodey is okay lmfao so pretty much anything goes, i just want them being each other's therapist because the timeline collapsed for some time and their universes interacted somehow lmfao)

*spins the wheel* AAAND hello anon we can absolutely try that u__u

ten years on tumblr anniversary prompt post | buy me a coffee | commissions open

Well, now I really did bite off more than I could chew, Tony thinks as he shakes his head and hopes that he and Bruce didn't fuck up the entire fabric of reality.

Well.

He's not in New York and he wasn't in the span of five seconds since they got the machine turned on, but - but well. Bruce isn't here, so hopefully he'll figure out where the fuck he ended up. Maybe we should have been sober when trying to work out that whole different timelines and multiverses thing.

Now, damage control. He should probably try to not go anywhere, but in case he actually just... teleported somewhere, maybe he should just ask where he is. He glances at his back. He's in front of a bar named Mystic Grill, which... okay, shitty name, but he could be anywhere in fuck-all-middle-of-nowhere Idaho for all he knows. He takes out his cellphone, and there is zero reception.

Bad news.

He sees a blonde kid with a police badge coming up the road, so he clears his throat and stops him.

"Uh, officer?"

"Hello," the kid says, "I don't remember seeing you around here."

Yeah, because I'm not from this world, most likely. "Eh," Tony lies, "I was driving my car but it broke down outside town and the way I got in, there wasn't a sign. Would you mind telling me where exactly I ended up?"

"Mystic Falls," the guy says, "I didn't know the damned State of Virginia now took us off the maps, too." That was sarcastic, Tony can hear it, but.

He's sure that there is no such place where he comes from.

"Right," Tony says, "I'll, uh, be out to find a mechanic then."

The kid gives him instructions to reach one, Tony thanks him and lets him go. Well, he can't certainly go anywhere now, but at least it seems like they fucked up just his -

"What the fuck," he hears from his left side -

Just in time to see a blonde guy wearing a white armor and a white cloak fall through a portal just the same as his own, that disappears a moment later. The blonde guy has green eyes, Tony notices, is lacking a right hand because he has a rather heavy golden prothesis on it that looks tacky also for his own tastes and looks completely out of his depth as he moves to his feet.

"Uh," Tony says, "I imagine you aren't from... here."

"Certainly not," the guy says, sounding... near hysterical, as he takes the surroundings. "What - what are those things anyway?" Cars. Oh fuck, he's looking at cars. "How are you dressed? What - what are these houses?"

"Er," Tony says, "humor me a moment. What's your name and where do you come from?"

The guy rolls his eyes. "Jaime Lannister, and I come from Westeros, thank you very much, now where the hell am I?"

... Great, Tony thinks, now it's not even someplace where the USA exist. "Er," Tony says, "in another world. Listen, it's my fault, I, uh, sort of caused it, and my colleague will most likely fix it, but it's really better we don't go anywhere so he can locate us more easily. Tell you what, can I buy you a drink while we wait?"

"Another world?" The guy blurts, and then - then he stares at Tony, then at his surroundings, then rolls his eyes again.

"You know what," he says, "I've had a shit long day. What can this be on top of fucking undead Catelyn Stark? Buy me the fucking drink."

I'm not doing drunk science anymore, Tony vows to himself as they walk inside the place, and he really hopes he can spin some story as to why the guy with him is wearing bonafide armor -

"And who the fuck are the two of you now?"

So: Tony had not taken into account that there would be just one person in the bar and that this person would be of course not human because no one human could pin the two of them to the wall in a split second and hold them there with such strength, and that's how he finds out that pretty guy with blue eyes, dark hair, pale skin and homicidal face is a damned vampire.

Except that the moment Tony explains it - Jaime or whoever he is is just keeping his mouth shut, wisely - the guy stares at them, and then more, and then -

"With everything I've seen in the last years," he says, "honestly, that's not even the most fucking stupid. So, you just want to lounge around until your friend shows up to fix whatever the fuck you did?"

"Er, yes?"

"Whatever. I'm Damon. I can cover your drinks and compel the bartender to forget your face. I sorely fucking need some myself."

He lets them go, but then - "Get that armor off," he tells Jaime, "this isn't New York City."

"I can't just leave my armor around!"

"Just leave it in the bathroom and take it back later," Damon shrugs, and then nods towards what's most likely the bathroom.

Jaime shrugs and goes, muttering something about maybe having drank too much milk of the poppy, and Tony doesn't want to know whatever the hell that is.

"Listen," Jaime says later, wearing an attire that's still obviously Middle-Ages-like but at least doesn't stand out too much, sipping at the bourbon Damon shoved at them, "I'm choosing to think I'm making this all up, but if I'm not, how long will it be before I can go back where I come from? Because you dragged me away from a rather fucking delicate situation."

"No idea," Tony shrugs, "but he's good at his job. And he was less drunk than me. We might get you back at the point you left."

"And what would that delicate situation be?" Damon asks. "Entertain me."

"And why should I tell you?"

"First, I bought you that alcohol and you're definitely enjoying it. Second, this is my town and I could tear your throat open if I wanted to." Fuck. He just showed fangs at the both of them. What the fuck. "Also, my murderous former girlfriend who is the cause of all my problems just finally fucked off this planet for good after possessing my current girlfriend who looks like her but really is the whole contrary and my best friend just came back to life after being dead for a whole lot of time and it's a complicated situation and I need a distraction or ten."

"That... sounds like something," Tony mutters, sipping at his alcohol. It's good, at least.

"Believe me, it is. So, what's the poison from Middle Ages here?"

"Ah, fuck that," Jaime says, takes a drink, and starts talking.

Half an hour later, Tony thinks that he and Damon are equally staring at the guy with the same disbelieving face.

"... Was that the undead woman that got you like this?" Jaime asks, blinking. "Considering that he seems like he's some kind of living dead, that's a tad hypocritical."

"No," Damon says, "that's the least of my problems. How haven't you frenched this Brienne person already?"

"I frenched?"

"Dude, he's from the Middle Ages," Tony takes pity on him. "He means put your tongue in her mouth."

"I - what - she's not - I'm not -"

"Listen," Damon cuts him, "I've been there. I mean, thinking I couldn't live without an arse who didn't give a fuck about me, which you admitted. But you do realize you spent at least five minutes of your charming tale describing us exactly how this Brienne of yours is ripped and has pretty eyes and was about to die for you?"

"Yeah, uh," Tony says, "let it come from someone who had the right people in front of him for ages and didn't let himself go for it, you really don't wanna drag it any longer."

"That's - she's a knight, that's not -"

"Oh, sure, all knights are shit where you come from, you said that, but suddenly someone would rather hang than kill you and you're here jittering because you got sucked here while she's dealing with a zombie that wanted you dead but I have to think you don't wanna french her?" Damon rolls his eyes again, pours himself another drink and honestly, Tony has cut down on the alcohol lately but he's gonna just make a damned exception. "Please."

"He's right," Tony says, "and also, let it come from someone whose dad was loaded on money and fairly shitty and still way better than yours, whatever he said about you is wrong."

"How do you know -" Jaime starts, half-blanching.

"Told you," Tony shrugs, "loaded on money, shitty father, at least I missed out on the shit sister. Honestly, man, just fucking drop her like hot coal and follow your gut. And let it come from someone who's fucked around a lot to get distracted, if you wanted to bone her in that bath then you're into her."

"I -" Jaime goes red in the face, finishes the drink, "it's not like it ever happened with anyone else before, it was a mistake, most likely -"

Damon gives him a look that looks halfway worried.

Tony thinks he just matched it, except even more worried.

"My vampire friend," he says, "are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"I'm afraid so," Damon says, and then looks back at Jaime. "Newsflash," he goes on, "if you get hard looking at a naked woman most likely you find her attractive. Also, you can find more than one person attractive in your life. And let it come from someone who's been there in the sense that I thought I could only love fucking Katherine, you really don't want to keep on doing it."

"I didn't say I wasn't done with Cersei," Jaime replies, somewhat weakly.

"Good," the two of them reply at the same time, and Tony has to snort.

"Look at that," he says, "for once I'm the one with the healthiest relationship history sitting at a table. Who'd have thought?"

"Fuck this," Damon says, "I'm getting more bourbon."

"Please," Jaime says, and - well. Seems like when Bruce comes to collect him, Tony won't be sober.

"Wait," Jaime says, "wait, wait, wait, she possessed your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, well, as if," Damon shrugs, "honestly, sometimes I think I should have just run away to New York after deserting."

"You deserted what?" Tony asks.

"The fucking confederacy," Damon shrugs. "Well, what are you staring about? I'm a vampire, I've been around ages, I'm from fucking middleofnowhere Virginia, you think I got drafted with the unionists? But I disagreed and I hated it and I never wanted to go, so I fucking deserted. I hope you aren't here judging me, or -"

"Please, I used to build weapons for the army and stopped when I realized it wasn't what I wanted to be, and honestly, that just means you have a conscience, so -"

"Wait, you did what," Jaime says.

"Deserted. An army. Back in the day. Risked my neck for it, and I came back and met Katherine and honestly I should have just gone North, but -"

"Hm," Jaime says, drinking, and then - "you don't regret it?"

"No," Damon says at once, "best decision I ever took. Why, you want to do that, too?"

"Sure he wants to," Tony says when Jaime doesn't immediately reply. "Let me guess, not just your army. You want to desert the whole shebang, don't you?"

"I don't know what a fucking shebang is, but yes. So what?"

"Well, if you want my been there done that advice, do that," Damon shrugs. "From what it sounds like, your entire world is collapsing because of zombies anyway, what do you have to lose? Your sister? You're better fucking off without."

Jaime stares down at the glass, then knocks it down. "Can I have another?"

"Sure," Damon says, and generously tips it.

"So what," Tony says, "now that your best friend you had a thing with while your girlfriend was with your brother is back to life you're having trouble adjusting?"

"She also hadn't been possessed by my murderous ex until then," Damon shrugs.

Jaime just looks at them, then drinks some more. "Who am I to judge on that anyway," he says, "but that sounds like a lot of work."

"You wouldn't believe," Damon shrugs, knocking down some more of his bourbon. "Never mind that Stefan won't get over brooding instead of fessing up to the girl he is in love with now, but it's not like I hadn't expected it."

"Tell him to," Jaime says at once. "I let my father fuck things up for my brother once and I hate that I ever did, just - don't."

"This is getting fucking eerie," Damon says.

Tony, who is currently feeling very thankful he doesn't have siblings, takes another sip. Then -

"Man, if it's complicated just date the both of them. If they both like you and aren't the kind of super monogamous people that can't handle a threesome once in a while, they won't have a problem."

"... And what do you know?"

He shrug. "Well," he says, "my steady girlfriend was in front of my eyes for years. Took us a while to get over ourselves. The guy I was doing drunk science with, well. Was an instant hit and I didn't let myself drag it in the centuries and guess what, we have a nice lovely arrangement where I'm with both of them, they commiserate about how much of an idiot I can be and sometimes we all occasionally have sex. It's grand. You should try it."

And I really hope Bruce shows up soon.

"Huh," Damon says, "maybe it has merit. For me. Not for you."

Jaime sputters. "I said nothing!"

"You shouldn't even think about threesomes. I can see it in your face you're not the type. And certainly not including your sister."

"Fuck you," Jaime replies without meaning it, "I was not considering that." Huh. Now he sounds offended Damon implied it. Maybe he really will fess up to the other one when he's back.

"Then it means this enlightening talk has enlightened you," Tony grins. "Mind telling us more about that hand?"

"And why?"

Tony shrugs. It's not like he doesn't have time to waste. "What if I could help you with that thing?" He says, nodding towards Jaime's stump, and then - well. Time to test if he can summon the armor here, too.

"God," Damon says a while later, "I'll have to compel that poor bartender so hard, but fuck this is something."

Sure it is, Tony grins. "Hey, I managed to fuck with quantum reality, I'm not the first idiot that passes by."

"Seven Hells," Jaime says, "I have no idea what it is you're putting on me but if it works half as well as that thing you have, I'm going to show back up in King's Landing just to show my sister who has the useless hand now. If she didn't get herself killed."

"Well, now that is one reason I could approve of," Tony laughs, "and don't fucking move."

Sure, building a prothesis from the rests of whatever nonfunctioning electronics the bartender had lying around is... somewhat a challenge, but as stated, he has time to waste and it's not like he's wanted anywhere soon.

"By the way," Damon says as he watches him tinker around with the toolkit he found him in the backroom, "do you need advice in the whole I fucked up and want my brother to forgive me department?"

"What if I do?" Jaime replies through his teeth. "Because now that would distract me from how much this entire thing is fucking hurting."

The more they talk while he tinkers, the more Tony decides he's absolutely glad he was an only child and that his father only fucked one son up.

"You're doing this while not even being fucking sober?" Damon knocks back more bourbon. "You sure you don't wanna stay here and turn into an immortal? You'd be useful."

"Thanks but I like my life as it is," Tony snorts. "But if you need tech tinkered with, you can ask while I'm here."

Jaime is just staring at the steel-colored hand coming to life while Tony puts piece after piece together, his throat working up and down.

He drinks some more. "Fuck, if only I had such a thing when I realized what the fuck Aerys had turned into."

"Wait, who's Aerys now?" Damon asks.

He hadn't told them that part in detail.

When he's done and Tony is at the fourth finger, he kind of wants to hurl, but mostly -

"Do we really have to stay here," Damon says, "or you think we could sneak him to a VA? I can compel them to just hear that he's talking about Vietnam or something."

"He's not old enough for Vietnam, but you know what, I think we could risk that."

"What in the Seven Hells is a VA?"

"Someone I really could have used in the nineteenth century," Damon sighs, and then just as Tony moves to the last finger -

"Tony, what the hell is this?"

Turns out, where Bruce comes from it took him two days to figure this out. He also immediately spots three different improvements Tony could do to that hand, and when he hears the entire shebang he raises his hands and says that he can send Jaime right back when he left at any point and he and Tony, too, but he supposes that if they want to compel the VA before they leave it's not like he's in a hurry, and wait, vampires?

Damon ends up asking him if the threesome thing is really working out as well as Tony says.

While he does, Tony manages the finishing touches on the sort-of-steel-and-iron-hand he cobbled up together, and thank fuck Bruce showed up because he had been the one studying how Barnes's arm worked, back in the day, and gave Tony the pointer he needed to make sure the entire thing was... well, connected to the nervous system without needing to rip Jaime's wrist open.

"Right," he says, "try to move the fingers."

Jaime holds them in a fist.

It works.

"Seven fucking hells -"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a genius. Just keep it out of too many lines of fire, but if you're from the middle ages it should withstand most stuff. You're welcome. And go french that knight of yours instead of waiting, really."

"I think in between him and you, you've made a case. Uh, thank you, I -"

"Nonsense, I was the reason you're here, I might as well have helped out. Hey," he says, "so, what about a last round before we drag him to the VA and Bruce here settles everything?"

"I'm so down for it," Damon says.

"Do I even have a choice," Bruce groans, but then he does sit down at the same table and lets Tony fill his glass.

"Oh, don't look like that," Tony says, "after all I didn't destroy the universe and made some friends, it could have gone worse."

"Wouldn't know about that, but I could have done worse, too," Damon says, and orders more bourbon.

"I sure as the fucking Seven Hells will never manage to explain this to anyone," Jaime says, "but I guess I'm not too disappointed, either."

"Tony," Bruce groans, "did you manage to somehow end up with two people with - never mind. Of course you did. We're never doing drunk science again, hear me?"

"Maybe so," Tony agrees, though... well.

Maybe he will want to check on them, once in a while.

But he can think about how to convince Bruce to make sure they can later.

For now, he'll enjoy his last round.

#tony stark #jaime lannister #damon salvatore #ten years anniversary promptfest #... this was LONG #jaime x brienne for ts #my fic #god idk what happened anon but i hope you enjoyed this mess #tvd for ts #anti jaime x cersei #only slightly less toxic than chernobyl's ruins #anti katherine pierce #my stuff

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years ago

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Secret Hero [5/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Ushijima x reader

Angst, Drama, AU

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: very Ushijima focused this chapter. I loved seeing all the guesses and everyone pretty much guessed right! Great detectives skills, loves! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Summary: After becoming the number 2 hero, Bakugou accomplished everything he ever wanted. He beat Deku in a few matches, even if he wasn’t the number 1 hero. He got all the fame, beat countless villains, was acknowledged by all his friends and family. But he wasn’t satisfied. He wasn’t happy. Bakugou realized that this wasn’t the life he wanted. So he left the life of a hero and decided to hide to live the rest of his life as a normal person.

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After lunch with your family, it was clear that you were not feeling the best. All those comments about your weight and your career and everything you were doing wrong was going to your head. You cut breakfast out of your daily routine, as well as lunch. Even if you did eat lunch, you ate very minimal. Dinner was a different story. You were eating a normal portion but never to the point where you were stuffed. Your days were very fatigued and you could feel yourself losing energy to perform simple tasks. But if that’s what you had to do to get skinny, then you would do it. Beauty is pain, as one would say.

But your mother couldn’t get the hint. Since you took up on her offer to meet the boy she wants you to meet oh so badly, she’s been bugging you nonstop to meet him and his mother for a nice lunch. And so here you were, standing in front of the restaurant your mother picked.

“Be on your best behavior, dear,” your mother warned. You knew she wanted this meeting to go well, but now you were starting to take back your words. You were nervous for sure. You had no idea who this guy was. You didn’t know what he looked like, what he did for a living, his hobbies, nothing. Your mom left it to be a surprise till the very end and the anticipation was killing you.

“I know, mother,” you say. Well, time to put your mask on. All you had to do was meet this guy for your mother’s sake and hope that after this, she will leave you alone. Or not. But you would worry about that later.

You enter the beautifully aesthetic restaurant. Colors of gold and white covered the walls and ceiling, a chandelier hung in the middle of the room. Each table was organized neatly with the correct silverware, napkin and plates. Bouquets of fresh flowers sat at each table which set the atmosphere nicely. The waitress took you two to a private area where you were to meet this boy. As you walked to your destination, you looked around the restaurant. Neat, organized, everything looked exactly the same. Someone who was not raised in this environment might think coming here was a treat and would be lucky to dine here. But no matter how beautiful everything might look, you felt it was suffocating. Like you always had to act a certain way because you lived in luxury. But that wasn’t you.

You and your mother arrived at the private room, your guests waiting patiently for you. As soon as you guys opened the door, the man and his mother stood up to greet you two. Your mother and the other woman happily greeted each other, giving each other a hug and a kiss on each cheek. The man you were meeting bowed to show his respect and softly introduced himself.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you heard him say.

“Yes, and this is my daughter, (y/n),” your mother introduced you. But when she saw you still standing by the door, she clicked her tongue in disapproval, snapping you out of your daze. “Honey, come introduce yourself.” You bowed back at both of them and finally looked up to introduce yourself.

“(y/n), pleasure to meet you,” you say in your most fake voice. It took you years to perfect it and people believed it every time. You looked at the other mother and she came to embrace you in a hug.

“You are more gorgeous in real life than in your pictures,” she complimented you. Yikes, they’ve seen pictures of you? You bet that they just really want you two to be together, that’s why she’s complimenting you so graciously. Your gaze moves from the woman to the man you were supposed to meet. And boy oh boy were you in for a surprise. You tried not to show it, but your eyes widened slightly when you saw who you were meeting.

Tall. Stoic face. Olive brown hair. He was the guy who ran into you the other day! And didn’t apologize! Your mom wanted you to meet this guy? This was going to be an awkward lunch.

“Nice to meet you,” you say to Ushijima, despite starting to have petty feelings for him.

“Likewise,” he says back with his deep ass voice.

“Let’s order, shall we?” your mother clapped her hands, clearly very excited for this encounter to finally happen. Every is in agreeance and takes a seat at the table. But before you could sit down, Ushijima comes over to your side to pull out your chair for you. That made both women very excited.

“My, what a gentleman!” your mother in absolutely in love right now. You accept his offer with an awkward smile and sit down, Ushijima scooting your seat in at the same time. He goes back around to sit back in his seat, but is keeping eye contact with you the entire time. It makes you start having cold sweat. Does he recognize you? Does he remember how you acted and practically embarrassed yourself that day? You pray that that wasn’t the case.

“Tell us, Ushijima. How is your work life?” your mother started the conversation. If you knew any better, she was basically interviewing him.

“I just got promoted at my father’s company. So I am head of the new office in town that I believe (y/n) resides in,” Ushijima informs. Upon hearing your name, you look up at him only to find him already looking at you. That got you embarrassed and so you immediately looked back down.

“Ah, is it that new office that Momo works at?” your mother was starting to connect the dots.

“Momo Yaoyorozu? She is actually my secretary.” Oh perfect. He’s already come into contact with the gorgeous Momo. There’s no way he was falling for you now. You might as well stop trying because you already lost, again.

“I’d actually like to know what Miss (y/n) does for a living,” Ushijima turns his attention to you, waiting for your answer. You looked surprised, not expecting for him to take any interest in you.

“Oh, uhm. I’m a teacher,” you quietly say, a bit embarrassed that you had to say what your profession was. You were already put down by your family for that. You didn’t need to hear it again, especially from strangers that you just met and who don’t even know you.

“So you like kids?” he asks.

“Yeah, I do. I love being around them,” you started to get excited. You loved talking about your kids and how proud they made you. But you physically had to stop yourself. He probably wasn’t interested in hearing your stories anyway.

“I think that’s very admirable,” Ushijima compliments you, giving you an encouraging smile. And that threw you off guard. It actually made you more nervous. “Tell me more.” He insisted. You looked and your mother and then at Ushijima’s mother. They were both looking at you as if to say that they were interesting in hearing more from you.

So you gave a few stories about the kids in your classroom. How sometimes they can make your stomach hurt from laughter or how proud you were every time they learned something new. With each story, your eyes lightened up and Ushijima was silently listening to every word that you were saying. You were surprised that he didn’t interrupt one bit because you were just so excited to talk about something you were just so passionate in.

“You two fit so well. I think this is going to be a beautiful marriage,” Ushijima’s mother clapped her hands in satisfaction. Your mouth dropped and your eyes immediately went to your mother, who was actively avoiding you.

“Mother,” you harshly whispered her name. You simply just wanted to meet him, not get engaged with him. And she knew that, yet she just pulled you right into her trap.

“Why don’t you two take a walk in the garden. Get some alone time,” your mother was avoiding the situation. She looked pleadingly at Ushijima who got the hint. He stood up and made his way to you, sticking out his hand for you to take. You groan internally, taking a mental note to confront your mother later. You take his hand as he escorts you out into the garden. The mothers watch as their children walk away.

“They’ll be fine,” they reassured themselves, taking a sip of tea and starting their own conversations.

Ushijima takes you around the small garden they had in the back of the restaurant. Of course they had something like this. Flowers and plants engulfed you at every which angle. The beauty in front of you doesn’t distract you from what his mother just announced. An engagement?

“I’m so sorry. They must have forced you into this too,” you assumed, apologizing for this situation. But why were you even apologizing. You didn’t have anything to do with this. Just like him, you were also the victim.

“Just a little bit,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I’m willing to try if you are.” You stop in your tracks to snap your head to see if he was joking. It was hard to tell by the poker face he was wearing.

“You actually want to do this?” you question his mentality.

“Why not? We both can’t find someone, so why not do the alternative?” he shrugs it off like it was nothing. But you still couldn’t wrap your head around in.

“How do you know I can’t find someone?” you challenge him, feeling a bit insulted. You mean… it’s true but he didn’t have to call you out like that.

“Then why would your parents put you up to something like this,” he points out. Yeah, he had a point. But still! You didn’t want to admit that you couldn’t find someone in your life. But if this was the only way…

“Mhm, I can try. But I can’t guarantee that anything will happen,” you gave him a fair warning.

“That’s okay,” he says and moves so that he’s in front of you. “Because I want to make this work. And then I’m going to make you fall in love with me. And repropose when it’s the right time.” You stared into his olive brown eyes. He meant every word of it. And as sweet and romantic that may sound, your heart didn’t skip a beat. You wanted it to so badly, but it doesn’t.

“Mother isn’t this a bit too soon?” you asked your mother on the phone. You were standing outside what you thought was an office building, but it instead wounded up to be a bridal boutique.

“Well if I told you, then you wouldn’t have gone! Hurry inside, your appointment should be starting soon,” and hung up soon after. You sighed, putting your phone away in your purse. You’ve only met your fiancé for a few weeks now and you’re already trying on wedding dresses so soon? Not only did you not feel confident, but you were discouraged because you were alone. You didn’t have anybody by your side, not even your mother. It was very tempting to leave and come back sometime later, but you could never go against your mother. If she found out that you missed your appointment, she would go ballistic on you. With a regretful sigh, you entered the boutique.

“Welcome!” the lady at the front desk greeted you.

“Uhm, hi. I have an appointment,” you say very softly.

“(y/n) right?” she asks, like she knew who you were already. You nodded your head, confused and shocked how she knew your name.

“Perfect, right this way!” her cheery voice rang in your ear. It was the same fake voice you used whenever you are with your family. Gross. She takes you over to a private room where many dresses are already laid out.

“Now, (y/n). What kind of dress are we looking for?” she asks. And it left you wondering. What did you want? The news of marriage was so sudden that you didn’t have time to think of what you wanted. You just assumed that the older adults would take care of it and you were just there for the ride.

“I’m actually not sure,” you say embarrassed. Your consultant was probably judging you by now.

“That’s okay! We can try on a few and decide what you like and don’t like and go from there.” The consultant smiled at you, not a single ounce of judgment on her face.

So you tried on many dresses. The big, poofy, traditional style wedding dresses looked horrendous on you. The fishtail was interesting but you didn’t like it. Lace looked old. You were starting to feel like finding a nice dress for you was hopeless.

“So, tell me about the groom,” your consultant started a conversation while fitting you into your next dress. Gosh, what do you say to that? Do you just confess and say that, oh it was an arranged marriage I don’t know this man at all?

“He’s very handsome and nice,” you decided to say. You weren’t wrong. Ushijima was very handsome and from those interaction that you did have with him, he was pretty nice. So technically, you weren’t lying.

“Are you excited for your wedding?” she asks another question.

“Not really,” you blurted out without even thinking. You realized your mistake, now having said too much and covered your mouth. She starts to laugh which throws your off guard.

“I can tell,” she says. It was like the information you told her didn’t surprise her at all.

“You can?”

“Of course. The look on your face as you came in today, the way you talked about your husband and the fact that you brought nobody with you? It was clear as day, honey. But we get those kinds of brides all the time. You may not love the man you’re about to marry, but you still deserve to look beautiful on your wedding day.” She advices, tightening up the last bit of the dress.

“Okay, how about this one?” your consultant backed away and you saw yourself in the mirror. It had a corset bodice that hugged your waist beautifully. Embroidered flowers covered the top, all the way down to half of the dress and slowly faded out. The skirt was flowy and had a long train. The dress was beyond gorgeous. And for once, you thought you looked really pretty. You couldn’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Wow,” you breathed. You looked completely different, like you haven’t seen this side of you before.

“I knew you’d like it. I’ll be right back. I’m going to bring a veil to bring the whole thing together,” she says and quickly runs out of the private dressing room to retrieve the item. You’re left mesmerized by the sight of you that you didn’t even notice someone come in.

“You look stunning,” a deep voice comes out of nowhere, scaring the living shit out of you. You turn around and Ushijima is standing there with his arms crossed, an amused look on his face.

“Ushijima!” you scream his name, covering your heart with your hand. “You scared me!” He laughs at your response, a chuckle coming from deep in his throat.

“Sorry,” he simply said, making his way to stand next to you. He looked like he just got out of work since he was wearing a suit. He looked clean and well put together. And when he stood next to you, it was like seeing you already at the wedding.

“Is this what we are going to look like at the wedding?” you joke. You thought it was funny how you two looked dressed for the occasion.

“No,” he said, wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. “Because you’re going to look even more gorgeous than you do now.” His low, deep voice tickled your ear, making you feel a little nervous. You get a glimpse of him in the mirror and you had to look away when you saw that he was staring right back at you.

“Okay, I think this one oh-” your consultant comes back in with the veil and is surprised to see that you have company. And it looks like she was ruining a special moment too. “I can just come back.” She says as she’s already backing out the door.

“Oh, no it’s fine,” you reassure her, slapping Ushijima’s hands away.

“We’ll take it,” he tells the consultant and gives her his credit card. She gladly accepts and is about to ring up the charge. While you were getting changed into your regular clothes, Ushijima was walking around the part of the shop where they sell other kinds of dresses. He comes across this one blue, off the shoulder dress and picks it up. Then he’s on his way back to the register with the dress in hand.

“This one as well,” he puts the dress on the counter. It might have been an impulse buy but he knew that it was going to look amazing on you at the party.

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Starting from tomorrow, I will be releasing those requests every day until they are all out there. So look forward to much content from me this week. And as always, I’d love to hear what you have to say or what you think about the chapter :)

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @simpforeveryone @bakasbitch18 @sam-i-am-1025

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu #ushijima imagine #haikyuu imagine

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archivingspn · 3 years ago

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2019: Twitter- Eric Kripke

therealKripke: “In honor of #SPN300, here's my original #SPN pitch from 2004. The pilot story is very different, but the tone always rang clear to me. Could never have imagined what this show became and the good it's done. Humbled and grateful beyond words to you all. #SPNFamily @cw_spn ‘[images of spn pilot’s 4pg script]’“ - 12:08 PM Feb 7, 2019

[source]

Supernatural

Pitch by Eric Kripke August 30, 2004

I. TONE AND WORLD

In one sentence, this is X-FILES meets ROUTE 66. Two brothers, cruising the dusty back roads in their trusty 64 Mustang, battling the things that go bump in the night. But much more than that, it's a show about an obsession of mine...

Throughout the U.S., (especially the MIDDLE, where I'm from), we have a folklore, as uniquely American as baseball, as rich and varied as any world mythology, and almost nobody knows it. For instance, Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil, at an abandoned Mississippi crossroads, to be the world's greatest guitarist. But he died violently, poisoned at age 26, screaming about Hellhounds as he choked on his own blood. In the shadowy north woods of Minnesota, lives a creature named the Wendigo. Translated from Native American, it means "evil that devours.” It feeds on human flesh. And even today, dozens of witnesses say it's very real.

There are literally HUNDREDS of these stories and legends and urban legends. There are dark and dangerous things out there in the corners of our country. So here's a show that travels the diverse highways and byways of supernatural America. Black woods, ghost towns, those tourist trap mystery spots. Really, a show ABOUT our country-the bloody, beating heart of America.

Unlike X-FILES, this show isn't Vancouver rainy. It's brighter, more colorful, more VISCERAL, and more irreverent. The humor here is extremely important to me—but it has to arise from the characters and their attitudes. The characters can be funny, but the weekly stories have to be SCARY AS SHIT– I'm talking THE RING; how what you don't see is much more terrifying than what you do. I'm talking about making this series as scary as I possibly can, until you guys call and yell at me.

But I also want the tone to be GROUNDED. Where BUFFY, for example, felt HEIGHTENED, our show should feel like OUR WORLD, real-life America. With a darkness that bubbles and boils just beneath the surface. And I want to keep the weekly stories CREDIBLE- leave 'em with a question mark, the possibility of a rational explanation. Something early X-Files did very well.

Finally, I want this show to capture a certain SPIRIT. For one, that youthful electricity of dropping out and hitting the open road; the freedom of wide-open American spaces. But also, EVERY road trip story-from FEAR and LOATHING to Kerouac to The Odyssey, are inherently mythic quests, hero's journeys, real Joseph Campbell stuff. The way STAR WARS, LORD OF THE RINGS, and MATRIX are all the same story, with the same beats. So our series, too, is an epic hero's quest-- across the United States. Almost like a modern western, and our heroes are gunslingers. Or, as I like to call it - it's STAR WARS in TRUCK STOP AMERICA.

II. CHARACTERS AND FRANCHISE

Now, let's get into establishing our characters, and launching our franchise.

So if this is STAR WARS, meet LUKE SKYWALKER. SAM HARRISON, 21. Think Jake Gyllenhall, or Tobey Maguire. Smart, funny, handsome, maybe a little type-A. He just graduated Stanford with a 4.0, and now he's heading back down to L.A., where he lives with his Aunt and Uncle, he'll spend the summer clerking at a powerful law firm. And in the Fall... Harvard Law, thank you very much. Pedal to the metal, Sam is cruising the track to success. But, like all good Luke Skywalker heroes, Sam is vaguely restless. He tells his girlfriend, maybe he should drop everything this summer and blow off to Europe. But of course, he doesn't. He has too many responsibilities.

Sam's well adjusted, successful life, it's a real triumph, especially considering his background. Fifteen years ago, his dad JACK became increasingly dark and depressed. He drank. A lot. Until Mom and Dad were in a car crash. Dad was driving. He lived. Mom didn't. That triggered a schizophrenic breakdown in Dad. He swore that twisted, dark, horrific things caused that crash and took Mom away. And those same dark things were chasing after him. Dad was institutionalized. But he escaped. And disappeared.

Sam is ashamed of his tragic past. Hates his Dad, blames him for killing Mom, and NEVER, EVER talks about it.

Now, Sam's mythic CALL TO ADVENTURE, the events that will change his life forever, begin simply enough. When his big brother DEAN rolls into town. Meet DEAN HARRISON, 25, think Colin Farrel. If Sam's the good kid, Dean's the troublemaker. If Sam's Luke Skywalker, Dean's Han Solo. Charismatic and dangerous. Cocky confidence masking a troubled soul. Sam hated Dad, but Dean was older and remembered Dad in brighter days, and he worshipped the man. Sam buried his past and ignored it, but Dean was haunted by it, never quite got his shit together. Dean never went to college. Just sort of traveled around. In fact, Sam hasn't heard from Dean in almost 3 years, which Sam clearly resents.

And now... Dean makes Sam a proposition. Let me drive you down to L.A.- it's just one day, we'll get a chance to catch up a little. Reluctant, Sam agrees.

At first, they're enjoying the electric, carefree pleasures of a ROAD TRIP. Top down, radio blaring, singing their lungs out to AC/DC.

But then... at twilight... on an empty stretch of highway... Dean's driving. And he has to make a confession. (Though I'm sure we'll break this up into a few different scenes.) "Sam. There's something I need to tell you," Dean says. “I went looking for Dad. And I found him. Took just about every dime I had, but I found him. And I've been with him, for almost 2 years." Sam is shocked and betrayed: "what?! Why didn't you tell me?!" But Dean continues: "listen. I know this is hard to believe. But Dad WASN'T nuts.

Demons really DID kill Mom. Dark, awful things WERE following Dad. I know. Because I can see them. Because they're following me, too."

Obviously, Sam is BEYOND freaked and well aware that schizophrenia is hereditary. Dean goes on, getting worked up-“so Dad figured out how to kill these things, and he showed me how. Until they caught up to us in Baker. They got Dad. Before I got them." "What do you mean, you GOT them?” asks Sam. “I killed a demon. In human form," says Dean. “You killed somebody?!" "No, I killed a DEMON, it only LOOKED human.” (Which could be a scary, visceral teaser, by the way.) Anyway, DEAN continues: “Listen to me, Sam... it was Dad's wish, his DYING WISH, that I find you, that I teach you the way he taught me.” At this point, Sam goes into placating, survival mode. “Okay. Sure. Just calm down." But Sam's terrified-of his own brother.

Meanwhile, as this conversation's going on, Dean isn't going to L.A. He takes a detour-- for all intents and purposes, kidnapping Sam. They pull into a small, faded, all-American town in Central California. It's 1950's American optimism gone to seed. Basically, they pull right into the pilot's SELF ENCLOSED B-STORY. Whatever it is, the story should be simple, giving us room to focus on the brothers. It should be based in Folklore. And it should be personal—the job their father never completed.

Now, here's an example of exactly the kind of story I'm talking about. The real life ghost story of the "Weeping Woman," a sobbing wraith in a bloody white nightgown. She murdered her children by the river side, as revenge against her unfaithful husband. And today, it's said she lures unfaithful men to the river and drowns them. And sure enough, several MEN in this town have turned up dead by the river's edge. Anyway, something like this. And Dean, despite his smart ass jokes and references to the movie Poltergeist, seems to be taking this SERIOUSLY.

But Sam doesn't believe a WORD of it. First moment he's alone, he calls his Aunt and Uncle. “I'm with Dean, I think he's sick.” They tell him—"cops in Baker found your Dad's body. And a truck driver's body, too. Dean's the suspect. You have to get away! Where are you?!” But before Sam can answer-he pivots, right into Dean. Who grabs the phone, SMASHING it, furious: “Dammit, Sam, I'm not insane," Dean says, “Caspar the unfriendly fucker is really out there!"

Then, as Dean delves deeper and deeper into the ghost story, dragging a reluctant Sam along with him... INEXPLICABLE SUPERNATURAL phenomenon begin to occur, which SERIOUSLY RATTLES Sam. We'll have several good, scary set pieces. And soon, Sam doesn't know WHAT to think. And in the B-STORY'S climax, he'll even save Dean at some crucial point. (Though we'll be careful to leave things open ended, with just the possibility of a logical explanation.)

Afterwards, a beat in which Dean, vulnerable, says to his brother-"I've been thinking. And you're going home, Sam. You're smart, and you've got everything going for you. I don't care what Dad said, I can't let you live like this... Still," says Dean, "it was nice having you around. When you're with somebody... you just don't feel as crazy as

often." Sam's very conflicted, and he feels awful, but he can't just abandon his old life. So the brothers part ways. Sam hitchhikes up the road. Meanwhile, thanks to his Aunt and Uncle, the cops have been searching for Sam, and now they find him.

At the station, Sam tells the cops, Dean's in Colorado by now. But a patrol car has spotted Dean's parked Mustang at a nearby motel. The police grab SHOTGUNS, they're going to take Dean with force. And in the face of ONE PASSING COP, Sam sees-a glimpse. A shimmer. Something DEMONIC and INHUMAN flashes across the cop's face-and then it's gone, just as quick. Did Sam imagine it? Is he going insane, too? Or is Dean really in danger? Are dark, awful things really after him, like he said?

This is Sam's crossroads moment. And he makes a decision-he takes off. Steals a car. Beats the cops back to Dean. Warns him at the last minute. It's very TIGHT and very HECTIC, but Sam and Dean get away. Escaping by the skin of their teeth.

As we leave Sam... he doesn't know if he's losing his mind. He doesn't know if Dean's a hero or a homicidal schizophrenic. All he knows is-Dean's his brother, and he needs help. And for now, that's enough.

III. THE SERIES ITSELF

I think the overall GOAL here, is building an engine that gives us SELF ENCLOSED STORIES. I am gonna pitch some very simple mythology, but STAND ALONES are a format I really believe in, they're the shows I loved and grew up on. Like the best EARLY episodes of X-FILES.

So basically, our two heroes, avenging their parents' death, cruise the golden backroads of America-picture chrome diners and bucolic farms and dusty Route 66 towns. Places that are mythic and American, but also haunting, in a way. Places where horror can strike in broad daylight. Sam and Dean are kind of like classic gunslingers, or dragon slayers, finding-and KILLING—the monsters of American folklore.

So first question-how do they find the damn things? Dean tracks these creatures in a low-tech way. He scans obituaries for strange deaths. Dean also has a loose network of contacts - defrocked ministers and trailer park psychics, who impart information to our heroes whenever necessary.

Second question-how do they KILL the damn things? The answer—they have no fucking idea. They're outgunned and desperate and in completely over their heads. They don't have a WATCHER, like in BUFFY. They don't have an OBI WAN. They're on their own. Each week, they gotta figure out what the hell they're dealing with, and how the hell to kill it. And a lot of the time, they're wrong, and they have to improvise. Whether it's finding a ghost's remains - and burning them into dust; or loading a shotgun with silver buckshot, our guys will do whatever it takes to get the job done.

#2019-Feb #2019:February7 #*spn 1x01 #*SMT #Eric Kripke #Twitter #*scripts

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aliendes · 4 years ago

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Natural Borns - Chapter Eleven (TRIGGER WARNING)

Banner by @thebannershop

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, smut (NSFW)

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNINGS!!! depictions of unwanted medical procedures, depictions of sexual assault - take this warning seriously, thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts?, wanting to die, restraints, needles, blood, crying, shitty medical descriptions (probably), depression, cursing, anxiety, a whole lot of sad and angst. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 8.1k~ it’s a big one

A/N: hi there! I apologize in advance for this horribly written chapter. I did not edit it, like I said I would, because life happened. This chapter is fucking heavy, man. But I wrote it in a way that you can completely skip this chapter if you want, and move on to the next one when it comes out. This chapter focuses entirely on what YN goes through at the facility and her escape. It will eventually be explained in later chapters in less detail, so if you don’t want to read about sexual assault, etc, then skip this one. I can’t stress this enough, if you are sensitive to any of the topics listed above, DO NOT READ THIS. You’ve been warned.

The younger two fall asleep rather quickly, having been spent from hiking all the way into town, but what Hoseok wouldn’t tell them is that he laid in bed until the early hours of the morning, listening to the soft sobs of Jungkook next door.

Your body was so dehydrated from crying over the last day, that even as you try to cry, no tears come.

The testing started this morning, with a nurse you didn’t recognize bringing you to a new room, a sterile, metallic room with a lot of medical equipment you’ve never seen before. It looked like an operating room out of one of your mom’s kdramas. It scared you, more than you were expecting, to see such a cold, lifeless environment.

Once you were alone with the nurse, she had you strip out of your white clothing, letting you know they were going to run some tests. You were hesitant, not wanting to be even more vulnerable in front of these strangers, but Yeonjun’s words echoed in your head. You need to comply, need to submit, or else - well, you didn’t want to think about what would happen if you didn’t.

Once you were undressed, you handed over your folded clothes to the woman, who put them into what looked like a laundry hamper. She had you lay on the bed, where she placed a thin white sheet over top of your body. For a moment, you felt like a corpse, ready to be sliced open and given an autopsy. The room you were in kind of reminded you of a morgue, at least, the temperature definitely resembled one.

Your time with the nurse wasn’t entirely unpleasant, though it was nearly freezing in the room, your naked body shivering every few minutes from the frigid temperature. She ran some basic tests, like checking your temperature, blood pressure, and drawing a few vials of blood. You felt like you were getting a check-up at the doctor’s office, and idly thought that if this was what it would be like, you supposed you wouldn’t mind being here too much. You were never really a fan of needles, but you’ve had your blood drawn a handful of times, and it was never too scary. The worst part about this was the freezing temperature, which you made a mental note to ask Soomin about later, if you saw her.

When the quiet nurse finished checking your ‘vitals’, as she had called it, she left you alone in the room, telling you to rest and a doctor would be in later to run some more tests. You complied, laying back on the stiff bed, and closed your eyes.

When you awoke next, you were met with a pair of icy grey eyes, behind a pair of round spectacles, staring down at you. You jump in surprise, head bumping against the hard table you’re laying on, making you grunt out in pain.

The man above you didn’t seem phased what so ever, and continued to stare down at you, clipboard in hand. When you take a moment to look at your surroundings, you realize that he isn’t the only person in the room, in fact, there are four other men in here with you, all staring at you with inquisitive eyes.

When you look down, you gasp out loud, realizing the thin sheet you had been covered with earlier had been removed from your body, leaving you completely nude and visible to these men. “I- I,” you start, bringing one arm up to cover your chest, the other coming down over your crotch, trying your best to shield yourself from their prying eyes, “I - hey!”

The man with the unnatural eyes moves closer to you and without your permission, grabs a lock of your hair gently, looking at it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Your eyes widen as you stare at him, mouth slightly agape, feeling strangely violated, even though he didn’t actually touch your body.

“Seems natural,” the man stated, another, shorter, man behind him writing something down on his clipboard, “take note of the freckles.”

Your eyes get even wider as you watch the man take what looks like a pen… maybe a stick? You aren’t sure, and drags it down your cheek and under your chin, tilting your face up at him. Your breathing starts to quicken, as you feel almost like cattle at an auction, or a purebred dog at a show. It doesn’t feel natural, it feels wrong… dirty, like you’re about to be sold to the highest bidder.

“Perfect lip shape, even,” he tuts as he turns your head to the side, grey starting to dot your vision as your head swims with confusion and embarrassment, “ears are uneven though. We may need to fix that.”

Fix that!? What the hell did this guy mean?

The strange man let the pen drop and your head snapped to the side as you saw two female nurses, who you hadn’t noticed standing behind you until now, come up to flank either side of you. When you looked up to your right, you saw the quiet nurse from earlier, and she sent you an apologetic smile as she gripped your right arm. You looked on in horror as the nurse, whom you didn’t recognize, on your other side, grabbed your left arm, essentially pinning you to the table.

Now, with nothing to cover you, you try to squirm away from their grasp, wanting nothing more in the world than to be able to cover yourself. You felt so wrong, so violated, being on display for these people. It felt inhumane, and you wished with all of your might that it would end. There are salty tears streaming down your cheeks, mixing with mucous from your runny nose, as you plead with the two men who are nearing closer to you.

“P-please, please!” You squeal when one of them grabs your ankle, bringing up a restraint from under the table, locking it in place. “P-please!” You scream, your voice breaking as you plead with them to stop. Your cries are becoming erratic and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded at the lack of oxygen, but you don’t stop, you can’t stop thrashing and yelling as he grabs your other ankle and attaches it to the bed.

You’re so focused on trying to escape their clutches, that you don’t notice one of the other men step up to your side and inject your thigh with something, but you do feel the sting of the needle and the immediate cold shot that travels through your leg and up to your chest. Your eyes snap open at the feeling.

“W-what is happening, w-hat a-are you doing to me!” You scream, your voice cracking with the high pitch you’re involuntarily using.

The men around you don’t even seem to hear you, too engrossed in their disgusting survey of your body. It’s surreal, the way they continue their business like you don’t exist. You almost feel like you’re in a movie, and you’re watching this happen to someone else, someone you don’t know, but when you feel a cold, gloved hand on your calf, it snaps you back to reality.

Jerking your head up to get a better view of what’s happening, you see a different man from before, this one is tall and skinny, blonde hair, and has a scar on his right eyebrow, grasping your calf, squeezing at the muscle there. “Athletic muscles, I would say she either played a sport, or ran track.” The other men hum and nod as your mouth drops open as you continue to sob. What was happening to you?!

Before you can even start to process the absurdity of what was going on, you feel something cold poke at your crotch. Immediately you try to flinch away from it, looking down to see one of the men holding what looked like one of those metal things the gynecologist uses to do a checkup.

“N-NO!” You screech, trying with all your might to back away. It’s no use, as you are fully restrained, but you can’t watch this happen to you, you cannot bear to witness what was about to take place. “N-no! PLEASE, s-s-stop!” your voice waivers, but you do your best to keep your eyes trained on the man holding the tool.

Finally, for the first time, the man acknowledges your presence by looking at you. He’s middle-aged, salt and pepper hair with a black goatee. Your face twists further in pain as he looks as you, a cold stare almost as if he’s looking right through you. The expression he wears is one of boredom, like you’re nothing but a nuisance to him right now. You sob harder at the thought that you were no longer seen as a human, a person with feelings and thoughts, but merely as a test subject, a body, flesh and bones.

“I-I’m a virgin,” you whisper in the smallest voice you think is possible, eyes unable to focus on anything as your pupils twitch nervously. Your mouth is falling open and snapping closed like you want to say more, but you’re unable to form anymore words.

You look down in horror as the man’s expression doesn’t change, instead, he seems to… smirk. You throw your head back against the table and scream out as he inserts the tool into your body, the foreign stretch painful. Your body is wracked with painful sobs as he continues his inspections, gloved fingers entering you and feeling around. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and it feels so fucking wrong. You feel so disgusting.

All you can do is cry on the table and let them finish whatever the hell they were doing, when finally you feel him pull away from you. You let out a sigh, eyes slipping closed as you feel like it’s finally over, blood rushing to your head, making your ears pound.

“Definitely a virgin,” the man says to his colleagues, “we will run a few more tests to make sure she’s fertile, but so far it seems she will be the perfect specimen.”

Yeonjun’s words from before rush back into your head, swimming around your brain. They were going to breed you, to use your body and your eggs to create more human beings like you. Like the boys. And you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“We can start the hormones tomorrow, but we need to make sure her eggs are viable. We can do an extraction today.”

Your eyes pop open at this, your breathing still ragged as you listen to the men talk about you, the female nurses still holding your arms tightly, despite the fact that you’ve long since given up fighting. You don’t think you have any more fight left in you.

“Yes sir, we’ll get it done within the hour,” another man answers the other before walking out of the room. Your crying has turned into wheezing sobs as the rest of the men follow after him.

“Don’t feed her,” the salt and pepper man says to the nurses, “hook her up to an IV and get some fluid in her. She can’t be dehydrated for the procedure.” His tone was cold, uncaring as he spoke to the nurses who nodded in response.

When he turns to leave, he makes it all the way to the door before turning around, one hand on the doorknob, and looks directly at you. “I’ll be back for you later,” he starts, looking down and seemingly chuckling to himself, “you’re going to be fun.”

You pale at his words as he exits the room, leaving you and the nurses in utter silence. You don’t have much experience with people, other than your schoolmates, Mina, Woo, and the boys, but you understand the hidden meaning in his words, and it absolutely breaks whatever resolve you have left to stay strong. Your walls crumble down, silent sobs wracking your small frame as you weep on the exam table.

You’re so far gone in your dark thoughts you don’t realize the nurses have inserted an IV drip into your arm and secured both arms to the table with some kind of elastic restraints. Before they leave you to the depths of your mind, they drape the thin sheet back over you. They tried to speak to you, to let you know they’d be back, but you didn’t hear them. Their words fell on deaf ears as you lose yourself to the memory of Jungkook’s lips on yours.

Your first kiss. You mentally smile at the image of the two of you standing together near that stream, a storybook setting where he stole your first kiss. You hold on to that, because if you could have one first that is by choice, you’re glad it was with the sweet bunny boy, in a place so beautiful.

You’re so lost in the pitiful depths of your own mind, that you don’t notice a doctor and the two nurses from before entering the exam room. You’re still strapped to the table, but have long since given up struggling. It was no use, your arms were tightly at your sides, ankles locked onto the table. You’re resigned yourself to silently sobbing, thinking about what your life is doomed to end up like.

You long for the things you never got to experience before you were taken here, and a dark, self-deprecating part of you blames yourself for being so prude and stubborn. Your first kiss was just yesterday, and you’ve never done anything more than that, despite the plentiful offers from boys and men in your town.

You’ve never had a boyfriend, never properly held hands or cuddled with someone you shared feelings with, you’ll never have the chance to choose who you want to have sex with. You shudder at that thought, another sob making you heave.

“YN?”

You’re so weak, so entirely not yourself, you don’t have the will nor the energy to look at whoever is speaking to you. Instead, you continue staring up at the bright white ceiling, tears still silently rolling down your cheeks. You haven’t been able to wipe at them, and the wetness is starting to pool uncomfortably at your ears.

“YN, I’m Dr. Kim,” a kind voice continues, despite your lack of answer, “I’m going to be performing your procedure today.”

Your eyes slip shut, waiting for him to explain just what ‘procedure’ he means. He sounded kind, maybe, but you’ve learned not to trust anyone here, so you just wait.

The nurse next to you grunts in exertion as she drags a heavy cart to your bedside, beginning to set up what you assume are tools for whatever is about to happen to you. “YN we’re going to attempt an egg extraction. I’m going to numb you, so hopefully it’s not too uncomfortable for you, but I’m not going to lie and say it won't hurt.”

You almost roll your eyes at his caring tone of voice, you know it’s all fake. They don’t care about you, about your body, you’re just a sack of flesh, or you suppose eggs, in this case, to them. The nurse to your right starts removing the thin sheets from your body, making you wince away as much as you can at the touch. Every single touch against your skin makes you shiver, you wish they would just stop touching you.

Once the nurse has the sheet down low enough, exposing your arm and entire upper half, she gets to work inserting an IV into your arm, to which you don’t react. Maybe whatever they pump into you will make you sleep, or forget, or maybe die. You let out a humorless, dark chuckle, making the nurses look at you wearily. It’s anything but funny that you’ve been put in a position where you’d rather die than continue, but it’s a little ironic, isn’t it?

Your parents kept you shielded your entire life, never letting you have many friends, never letting you explore the town on your own, hell, you couldn’t even attend college. Your life was planned out for you from the beginning, since before you were even born. You were promised to a fate that was now a reality. Had you gone against their wishes, maybe you would’ve been able to experience some of the things that are now being violently ripped away from you, or maybe you would’ve been met with a nefarious end, but it couldn’t have been much worse than what’s happening now.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t realize the nurse has already administered something into your IV that is making your head feel a little floaty. When you try to wiggle your fingers and toes, you can still feel them, but they feel tingly, almost. It’s a strange feeling you don’t think you’ve ever experienced before. You furrow your brow as you feel your legs being moved against your will. When you try to pick your head up to look at them, you can’t, which freaks you out even more, but before you can voice your thoughts, an oxygen mask is placed over your face, aiding in making you even more dizzy.

Your eyes must’ve slipped closed at some point, because all you see is black. Are you sleeping? If you’re sleeping, then why do you feel so much pressure in your lower stomach? You try with all your might to open your eyes, but you fail every time. Next, you try moving your arms, your hands, anything, but nothing will move.

Absently, you feel the pressure in your abdomen increase, but you aren’t sure what the feeling is, as you’ve never felt something quite like it. It almost feels as if someone is trying to push out of your stomach from the inside. It’s weird, and almost painful. You try to focus on the feeling, hoping that it might ground you and make you more lucid than you are currently, but all it does is make you hyper focus on the almost-pain and that makes it more intense.

You want to yell out, to say something, to scream at whoever is pushing (pulling?) on your guts to stop! But you can’t. All you can do is lay there, stiff as a board, while whatever is happening to you continues to happen. Just when you think the pressure is starting to let up a bit, you feel an intense sharp pain on your left side of your body, near where you think your bladder is located.

If you were more conscious, you would have definitely rolled over or keeled over in pain at the feeling. It was sharp, like a needle or a knife, jabbing into you and then immediately pulling back. It felt kind of like if you were to pinch your skin really tightly between fingernails and then let go. The pain was instant and is slowly starting to subside, but left behind is a deep burning sensation that is akin to rug burn that you get when you skin your knee on the carpet. What the fuck is happening to you?

After the sharp pain, you feel the pressure retract from your body, and you are just mentally aware enough to remember your pelvic exam earlier. Whatever pressure you were feeling must’ve been through your vagina, if you had to wager a guess. The thought, while foggy, made you want to vomit.

The man in the room earlier said something about an extraction, was that what they just did to you? Were they extracting your eggs? Or were they inserting something into you? Whatever it was, it absolutely terrified you. Your mind flashed through all the possibilities: a tracking device, some kind of contraption, contraceptives, an embryo?! The last one terrified you beyond measure. Yeonjun had mentioned how they wanted to breed you, like some animal from a farm, was that what they were doing to your body?

While you were so caught up in your racing thoughts, you realize that whatever they did to you left behind a pulsing, burning, feeling where the initial pinch was felt, and you idly wondered if they would be putting pain medication in your IV, or if they would let you suffer. Probably suffer, you thought. Before you could really think much about it, you felt the strange pressure again, only this time you were certain it was between your legs.

Whatever they had given you earlier to make you loopy felt like it was slowly starting to wear off, and you started to hear voices talking beside you and you felt the sharp, pinching pain again, only this time it was on your right.

“They seem viable,” a man’s voice trailed off. You’re unsure if he stopped talking or your just stopped hearing, but the next voice you heard was distinctly female.

“She’s bleeding, doctor.” The voice sounded so calm. Surely blood couldn’t be a good thing, right? As you thought this, you felt something being roughly pulled out of you, making your whole body jerk downwards on the table. This time, the burning sensation was stronger, intense, in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend.

It felt like a hot knife was being twisted inside your middle, hot, sharp, but also, wet? The pain was so intense, even if you could move, you don’t think you’d physically be able to. You were still too out of it to move your body or open your eyes, but you could feel the pain full fledged now, sending alarm bells off in your brain.

You were dying.

You had a gut feeling of impending doom, one of which you haven’t ever had before in your short twenty three years of existence. You were bleeding out on this damned table. You could feel it. Aside from the fact that you felt like your stomach had just exploded from the inside out, you could feel the blood running out of you. It was warm, almost hot, sticky, and wet. You could feel it begin to pool under your thighs and start to seep up your back. You were so certain that you were about to meet Death himself.

Would that be such a bad thing, though? You try to temporarily distract yourself from the pain, and now pressure of someone pushing on your abdomen, by wondering what it might feel like to die. You were shocked that you even had the wherewithal to think these things, when your lower half was literally on fire, but you always have had a high pain tolerance. If this was dying, you thought, it wasn’t so bad. Maybe you would finally be out of your misery.

Your last coherent thought after you heard the shouting of multiple people around you, was of the bunny boy, and his lips against yours.

Cold. Bare, and cold. Those were the only two words running through your mind as you hugged your arms tightly to yourself, eyes squeezed shut, as you sat shivering on the cold ground. Where were you? You looked down at your body, only to gasp aloud at what you saw. You pull your hands away from your legs, seeing you are completely naked, covered in blood from the waist down.

Immediately you try to stand up, panic settling in your bones as you spin around, taking in your surroundings.

What the fuck is happening…

You’re completely surrounded by darkness. Is this a dream? You look down to see you’re standing in what looks like really shallow water. You can’t feel any pain, even though you look like you’ve just been brutally stabbed, so you realize this must be a dream, or some sort of creepy purgatory.

You lean down to tap at the water substance, only to find the surface of it to be completely reflective, and you see yourself staring back up at your pale, thin face. You can’t remember what you look like in real life, but you blankly think that this isn’t what you looked like last time you looked in a mirror.

You look sick, dead, even. Your face is so thin and sunken in, it looks like you’ve been starved for weeks. Quickly, you tear your eyes away from the reflection, not wanting to dwell on why you’re dreaming up these things… You furrow your brow as you wrap your arms back around your frame.

It’s chillingly cold, wherever you are. Dreamland, purgatory, Hell, you aren’t sure anymore. All you know is you don’t want to be here anymore. You want to go home. Home. Where is your home, now? You silently let even more tears fall down your cheeks at the reminder that you’re stuck in that god forbidden laboratory, and you’ve suddenly wanted nothing more than to run into your mother’s arm. She took care of you, right? She must harbor at least some sort of love for you.

You sniffle, shaking your head back and forth, trying to rid yourself of your thoughts of them. They aren’t your family. You don’t even know if they are your biological parents, as you haven’t had the chance to ask any questions in this hellscape.

This hell… you start to recall what was happening right before you lost consciousness. Floating, you remember the feeling of floating and falling all at the same time. You remember not really being in the right frame of mind, but you also remember an intense pressure.

You gasp, hands flying down to grip at your lower abdomen. The pain, the pinching and burning, originated in your lower belly. When you look down to the spots your hands are covering, you don’t see anything, no outwards signs of abuse or pain. But it’s then that you see the steady drops of blood that have been falling from you, from your…

No. No, no, no. You slowly reach a hand down to run a finger through the crimson blood trailing down your inner thigh, only to bring it back up towards your face. With shaky eyes and gaping mouth, you realize that whatever they did, whatever caused the bleeding, had to do with your reproductive system.

How much blood had you lost? You blink away the tears as you fall to your knees on the wet ground, black water splashing around your pathetic frame. You let out a sob, only to realize you aren’t actually making any noise. Now that you think of it, you haven’t heard any noise since you ‘woke up’ here. You haven’t even heard your own cries or sniffles. You must be dead, that was the only thing your muddled brain could think of seeing how much blood was pooled underneath you.

A sinister smile spreads across your face as you close your eyes and throw your head back. If you were really dead, that meant you were far, far away from those monsters. You could finally rest, even if it was in this soundless, black abyss. Regardless of how bloody you were, you felt no pain, not like the excruciating pain you had been in before you lost consciousness. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You think you’re lightly laughing, relishing in the thought that you could be rid of Big Hit, rid of your family, and rid of pain, but you can’t hear anything coming from your throat.

You slowly lay yourself down in the cool water, rolling onto your side, as you let the blood continue to flow. If you were going to die, at least you wouldn’t feel it.

“She lost a lot of blood,” a woman’s voice speaks into the quiet room, “we did our best, but there was a lot of damage to the ovaries.”

“What do you mean, damage?” A gruff tone asks the female.

You furrow your brows, your brain getting whiplash from seeping in and out of consciousness so often. You could hear a conversation taking place above you, but you weren’t sure who was there with you, or even where you were. You didn’t feel cold and wet anymore, but you could feel a dull pulsing in your stomach.

“Well, Doctor Kim said that only one was a viable ovary before the procedure, the other never having produced eggs…” the voice trailed off.

“But?” The only sound that could be heard over their conversation, was the beeping of a machine in the distance.

“But the other ovary was lost,” the woman says, reluctantly.

Confusion takes over you as the pulsing in your abdomen increases, bordering on painful.

“Fucking hell,” the man mutters, anger taking over his tone, “I told you idiots to be careful with this one. We need her. We can’t further this research without her.” The man sighs, exasperated, before he adds hotly, “Get out. Now!”

A door can be heard opening and closing quickly, leaving the only sounds in the room the faint beeping and the man's heavy breathing.

A few beats pass before the man approaches your prone body, running a hand up and down your arm. “Pretty little thing,” he tsks, “such a shame.”

Your barely conscious body tenses at the man’s words and touch. As he leans over you, caging your body in, you recognize it’s the salt and pepper man from before. Your eyes snap open just as his lips are about to collide with yours. Eyes wide and panic stricken, you abruptly sit up, smacking your face into his and making him stumble backwards, hand clutching his nose.

“You bitch!” he stutters out, knocking into a small metal table holding medical tools.

Your heart rate picks up, sending you tumbling into a fight or flight response, of which your body chooses the later. Jumping up quickly from the bed you were sitting on, you try to make a run for the door, but scream loudly when you feel the man’s hand around your waist, pulling you down to the ground on top of him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” he screams, gripping onto your hips tight enough to bruise. You’re screaming bloody murder, trying to get out of his grip. You can feel the burning sensation in your abdomen grow with the exertion, but you don’t give up, trashing and twisting in his grip. “Stop fucking moving you whore!”

The man’s large hand leaves your middle, allowing you to move slightly away from him, before he reaches out and grips your long hair, pulling you roughly to the ground, the back of your head cracking sickeningly against the linoleum. Your eyes squeeze shut at the piercing pain shooting through your skull, a silent scream on your face.

The man moves himself so he’s on his knees, hand still wrapped tightly in your hair. He picks your head up slightly, only to slam it back into the floor for good measure. You whimper out in pain, unable to open your eyes at the searing feeling in the back of your skull. “You really think you can go anywhere? You’re fucking trapped in here, and you just made a very, very terrible mistake, young lady.” His tone was sinister, deep, and taunting. He was enjoying this, chasing you. “You could’ve laid there and taken this, could’ve been a good girl. But no, you chose this, remember that you slut. This is your fault!”

He stands up abruptly, taking your body with him and letting your body flail in his grasp as he moves back towards the hospital bed. He drags you behind him like a caveman, throwing you roughly onto the hard bed and immediately crawling over top of you. As soon as he is over you, you bang both of your hands against his chest, but it doesn’t make him budge. There are tears streaming down your face, and you don’t realize you’re still screaming until he slams a hand over your mouth, making your eyes bulge nearly out of your head. You try your hardest to shake your head back and forth to get him to release his tight grip on you.

“You’re going to shut. The. Fuck. Up. And take what I give to you, you stupid fucking bitch.”

The panic starts to rise, ten-fold in you, as you thrash even harder under this man. His grip on your mouth doesn’t let up, not even a little, as he brings his other hand up to land a slap to your cheek, making more tears flow down your face. The weight of what is about to happen to you sits heavy on your chest as you squeeze your eyes closed again.

“Such a pretty whore,” he whispers, bringing his hand to your chest, groping at your breasts under your hospital gown, “I’ll fuck this fight right out of you, girl.”

You scream as loud as you can against the palm of his hand as he rips away the front of your hospital gown and throws it behind him blindly. You’re screaming and crying, sniffling as snot coats the inside of the man’s palm. You’re screaming ‘no’, over and over again, but it’s only coming out as muffled noises. You don’t think anyone would even be able to hear you if you were able to scream, the doors were made of a thick metal.

Your mind briefly flashes to Seokjin, the gentle man with large hands that would soothingly rub up and down your back. The man on top of you continues to rip at your clothing, the thin white sports bra you don’t even remember someone putting on you, comes off you at lightning speed, being thrown behind him like the gown. You try to focus on Seokjin and what his soft, gentle hands would feel like. You try to remember what it felt like when he gently wrapped your wounds and rubbed your back in the shower.

Slowly, your tears start to let up, your sniffles getting lighter, as you imagine Jin’s hands are the ones touching your breasts, groping your thighs. It’s hard, because the man above you is so rough, his hands are nothing like Seokjin’s. They are rough and cracked and calloused, and you want nothing more than for Jin to be here, to soothe your wounds, to take care of you. The opposite of what is currently taking place.

You’re ripped from your thoughts when the man dips his thick, gross fingers under the hem of your white panties, pulling them roughly from your body with a snap. You barely register the pain of the elastic snapping against your hips, distracted from the searing hot pain in your lower belly when the man pushes your hips down.

You try to scream out in pain again, but it comes out as a garbled yell that turns into a sob when you feel his hands trailing down your stomach and dipping between your legs. This can’t be happening, you open your eyes only to find the man staring back at you, lust in his gaze. It makes you sick, and you think you’re about to vomit when he speaks again.

“You’re so wet, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you, slut?” He bites his lip and your eyes widen as he runs a finger through your slit. The pain that shoots through your body is immediate, your vagina still incredibly sore from the earlier events. You let out a high pitch noise in pain, trying your hardest to move your hips away from his touch, but he doesn’t let up, only pushing you down into the mattress harder by his hand on your face. “Gonna fuck this virgin pussy until you’re screaming for more.”

Before he can say anymore, you move your head up slightly and bite down as hard as humanly possible on the top of his hand. He immediately releases you, stumbling back off the bed, cursing loudly, as blood flows from his hand.

You spit out the blood that got in your mouth, to your side. When you look down, your eyes widen in horror at the spot of blood already on the mattress, presumably from his earlier ministrations on your already battered vaginal area. You’re panting, heart racing as you meet the man’s eyes again, only this time they are filled with anger, not lust.

The man charges at you again, making you back into the wall the bed is pushed against. “You fucking whore! Didn’t I tell you to shut up and take it?!” He screams in your face as he kneels on the bed, you try to scramble away from him, but you’re just met with the wall again, making you scream out as he pulls his fist back, before colliding it with your jaw. As he pulls back to land another hit, the door slams open.

“Dr. Byun!”

The man in question whips his head around towards the source of the sound, only to find the yellow haired therapist, Yeonjun.

“Your hand! Sir, you’re bleeding!” Yeonjun rushes forward, quickly taking in your broken and tattered appearance, pursing his lips, and turns towards Dr. Byun.

“T-This isn’t what it looks like, boy,” the doctor starts, standing up and cradling his bleeding hand against his chest, “you didn’t see shit, you hear me?”

“Yes sir, I understand. But you should really get that looked at, it looks deep and you could need stitches.”

Yeonjun looks like he is purposely ignoring you, trying to coax the older man out of the room. You cower into the corner as far as you can, pulling the thin white sheet with you to cover your form. You can’t help the sobs that emit from your small frame, sending a shiver down the therapist’s spine.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Dr. Byun mutters, walking towards the door, “call Jiwoo to take care of the specimen.”

You flinch at the name. Specimen, that’s all you are, right?

“Will do, doctor. Please, get yourself fixed up.” Yeonjun turns towards the man, bowing ninety degrees as he exits the room.

He waits a moment before turning back around, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what he’s about to see.

When he turns around, you’re curled into a small ball, face against your knees, bawling likes he’s never seen anyone cry before. He’s worried you are going to suffocate yourself with how ragged your breathing seems to be, so he approaches carefully.

When he reaches the bed, he is unsure of how to proceed, so he gently reaches out to try and touch your elbow to let you know he’s there, but you jerk back, eyes snapping up to his as you let out a panicked scream. Yeonjun flinches and pulls back immediately, holding both hands up to let you know he means to harm, but you can’t focus on much else than what just took place. You were almost raped, you were raped. Your mind was starting to regress, trying to pull you away from the horror you just witnessed, and Yeojun, a trained therapist, could see it clearly.

He needed to get you out of here, fast, or who knows what would happen to you.

“YN, listen to me, honey,” he spoke quietly, making you look up at him helplessly, tears still actively flowing from your red rimmed eyes, “I want to help you, okay? I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to protect you from that man. Protect you from this place, okay? Can you hear me, YN?”

You look up at him, fear in your eyes, but nod along to his words anyways, trying your hardest to not let your mind slip, but it’s getting more difficult as you start to hyperventilate. Yeojun inches closer to you, taking your nod as permission, and places a gentle hand on your arm. His hand is warm, and soft, nothing like Dr. Byun, and it just makes you cry harder.

“YN, hey, look at me, please?” Yeojun asks quietly, prompting you to stare at the yellow haired male, “breath, sweetie. Deep breath, hold it. Relax.” You nod your head as you let out a deep breath through your nose, your fear addled mind deciding it would be okay to trust him. “Good, very good. Now, YN, I need you to listen, okay? I’m going to get you out of here. This isn’t a safe place for you, right?” You shake your head, biting your lip so hard you draw blood. “Okay, good. This is risky, YN so I need you to listen carefully.”

Silent tears slip down your cheeks, but Yeojun is quick to wipe them away, making your eyes slip closed at the kind gesture. “I’m going to wrap you up in that sheet, okay? It’s 2 AM right now, and there aren’t many guards on duty. We’re gonna sneak out of here, but I need you to be as quiet as a mouse. Can you do that for me?” Yeojun spoke softly and slowly, making sure to tap into the childlike mindset you were starting to fall into.

“O-o-okay,” you mutter out, tears, snot, and blood running down your face as you sniffle again. Your breaths are coming out in hiccups, and Yeonjun runs a soft hand carefully up and down your arm to calm you down.

“Shh, YN. Relax for me, I’m gonna get you out of here. Away from the awful man. I need you to trust me, do you trust me?”

You nod your head quickly, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare.

“Good. I’m going to pick you up now, is that okay?” You nod your head again, but tighten your grip on the thin sheet, now stained red with blood from various places on your body. Yeonjun utters a curse under his breath as he notices just how much you’re bleeding.

Without another word, Yeonjun scoops his arms underneath you and picks you up, cradling you against his chest. True to his word, he wraps the sheet tightly around you, but you still shiver, nonetheless. Moving quickly towards the door, he maneuvers his body so his scan card attached to his belt loop, scans on the door, opening it up. Peeking out in both directions, he slowly makes his way towards the cargo elevators located at the back of the building, careful to stay away from the security cameras along the way.

He knows this could get him killed, but a lot of things he’s done in his two years working here could get him killed. This time he wasn’t planning on coming back, no. They would realize quickly that you were gone and would figure out it was him that took you. You both had to run, preferably far from here.

Hugging you closer to his chest, Yeonjun runs up to the elevator, scanning his badge against the wall again. As he enters the elevator, he hears your soft whimpers against his shirt, and realizes that you’re shaking violently.

“Shit. YN, YN hey, I need you to stay awake for me,” Yeojun whispers, adjusting you so he can look at your face. Your eyes are closed and you’re having trouble keeping your head upright, letting it loll against his forearm. “Ah fuck! Hey, sweetie, we’re almost to my car, but I really, really need you to focus on my voice, okay?” Yeojun whispers loudly as he steps off the elevator and into the parking garage, running quickly to his dark blue sedan. You let out a soft groan as he jostles you slightly to reach his keys in his back pocket.

“I’ve got you, YN,” he says, opening the back door and laying you down against the cool leather. “You’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Hold on just a little longer.”

Yeojun closes the door and jumps into the driver’s seat, starting up the engine and making his way out of the garage unseen.

From the backseat, your drowsy state was making it hard for you to pay attention, but you tried to listen to Yeojun’s words from earlier, you wanted to be good, wanted to make him happy. You needed to focus.

“YN, can you hear me?” You let out a small groan from the back, letting him know you were listening, “Good, I need you to focus on me, okay? I’m calling Namjoon, I’m gonna let him talk to you.”

Your ears perk up at the thought of hearing Namjoon’s voice, and it’s that excitement that keeps you awake while you listen to the ringing of a phone echo throughout the small car. You head lolls to the side, giving you a full view of the blue lights on the dash. It’s blurry, but you try to focus on all the little buttons, trying to make out what each picture was, a feeble attempt to stay awake.

“Hello?” Namjoon’s deep voice, plagued with sleep, rings through the car.

“Joon, are you still at Wonho’s place?”

You hear shuffling on the other side of the phone before his voice rumbles out, “Yeah, yeah. What’s up?”

You whimper at the sound of his voice, wanting nothing more than to yell out for him, to scream and cry and beg for him.

“YN? Is that YN? What the hell is going on?”

“Calm down, Joon,” Yeojun soothes in the soft voice of his, “I have her. I had to get her out, I couldn’t wait any longer. W-what I walked into…” he trails off and you flinch at the reminder. Yeojun notices through the rearview mirror and decides he won't go into further detail.

“Yeonjun, what the fuck do you mean?”

“Shh, Joon, please. She’s not in good shape, please just let me bring her to you. She badly needs a doctor, she’s lost a lot of blood.”

“B-blood, what - what the fuck do you mean,” Namjoon’s voice wavers, and you hear shuffling again, “YN? Can you hear me?”

“She can hear you, but she’s barely conscious.”

You make a small noise again, trying your hardest to let him know you’re there, you’re alive. “YN, baby, please stay with me,” more shuffling and grunts from another male sound through the car, “we’re all here, we’re all waiting for you, okay? Please, please make it back to us.”

You hear a faint echo of your name in the background, and then footsteps and doors slamming as Yeojun tries to calm him down again, “Namjoon, I need you guys to stay calm, okay? I’m almost there, and I need you to prepare yourselves for what you’re gonna see. Keep Kook and the twins away, yeah?”

“YN?!” Seokjin. You let out a pitiful wail at the sound of his voice, and you can hear audible sobs on the other end of the phone. “YN, love, I’m so sorry, so so sorry.” You hear Jin’s choked sobs, and it only makes you cry harder, longing for him to be there.

“She’s going to need medical help, Jin, are you going to be able to handle it? I need you to pull yourself together, do it for YN.” Yeojun soothes again. You can barely make out the sounds of a phone moving around through the car speakers, before you hear Namjoon’s voice again.

“We got it Yeonjun, please, just hurry.”

“Almost there, give me ten minutes.”

You cry softly as Yenojun hangs the phone up and turns slightly to smile at you from the front briefly before turning back towards the road. “We’re almost there, YN,” he whispers, “you’re gonna be okay, just stay awake a little longer.”

You try, you really do. But the soft hum on the passing cards outside, and the gentle tone of Yeonjun’s voice lull you to sleep, the last thing on your mind is Seokjin’s warm embrace.

To be continued...

2nd authors note: hi. sorry for the horribly written, yet sad and graphic chapter. it was a little cringe, so I apologize. this was meant to give perspective to how YN is going to be going forward in the story. she is definitely going to be changed. let me know what you think!

Taglist: @jooniebias10 jooniebias10 @sammiilynn10192 @minifruity @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz @chim-possible @kooksremedy @irishhbamb @sugashaye @lovelyseomin @strawberrygatorade @kookiebbyxx @itneverends15713

#bts x reader #poly bts smut #poly bts angst #bts angst #bts smut

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catharrington · 4 years ago

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I don't know if you have time/desire for more catboy but if you do...

Steve getting something gross stuck in his fur (maybe Billy's bubble gum or some candy?) and Steve's trying to contort himself to clean it, but it's in a spot he just can't quite reach so they have to figure out how to get it off when a bath just makes it worse.

Time? None at all. Desire?? Overflowing with it, babe!!

Oh my gosh let me take this opportunity to enjoy some Halloween time!! I imagine cat boy Steve loves Halloween because hey free built in costume he always wears! Him and other cat people just have the best All Hallows ever!

Steve didn’t have much when he first came to Billy’s, just the ears on his head and the collar that got unceremoniously dumped into the trash can. Billy convinced him to go shopping together once, and Steve didn’t care for it much. Felt far too close to a date, too close to what he wanted from Billy— but not what the other wanted from him.

So soon billy just started leaving money on the coffee table where he could. Small amounts. Just enough for Steve to use it to feel some sort of independence. Because billy was stepping far too over the line— no way Steve actually wanted to be in a serious relationship with the guy he nicknamed ‘kidnapper’.

Halloween was different, Halloween was everything goes. Steve had gotten a job at a library just down the Main Street of town, not a 5 minute walk from their apartment. He would sit behind the counter tapping his long nails across a hard back book, most days, using his pointy ears and flicking tail to point out teenagers making too much noise. And the older woman who worked there all fawned over him.

He took the later evening shift, he said it was to help the old bats out, also I’m by myself! Don’t have to worry about them touching my ears or calling me ‘kitty’ to my face!

He would stumble home every day with his ears low on his floppy brown hair, and his shoulder bag filled with books across his chest.

Billy told him he shouldn’t be walking that late at night, don’t care how far, makes me worried someone might want a pretty cat like you?

And Steve would laugh, strip down to a pair of flannel pajama bottoms he stole from Billy, giggling the whole time, and lay down so his head is on Billy’s chest. Let those rough from work hands relax the tension in the muscles around his ears.

They didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. They felt like two jigsaw puzzle pieces meeting. And those don’t have to talk to know they fit.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see the side of Steve that wasn’t soft sweaters or library books. Wasn’t a fierce independence acting as a wall againt the trauma of abandonment. Of abuse.

Halloween was the first time Billy got to see Steve in a skin tight black cat suit. Designed for cat boys and bought because there’s a bar right down the block from the library and it’s free drinks for cats tonight! I’ve just got to go, Billy, that’s so rad!

Halloween was when Billy followed Steve around, not the other way around. Pulled out an old leather jacket he was surprised still fit him at all. Didn’t talk about the way Steve was going for an all black look but didn’t make any move to take off the brown leather collar Billy got him as an apology gift.

Didn’t talk about the way the wet look pleather on Steve’s cat suit matched. Didn’t mention they looked like a couple. That Billy might hinder Steve if he’s looking to ride a dick that night.

No, he just smiled and walked arm in arm down the block as the sun set. Pretty oranges and red filling the sky. Leaves crunching underfoot the same color as Steve’s pretty hair, all styled up with hairspray and perfect as could be.

The building is lit up with strings of bright purple, a lime green naked bulb sits in the front door where a bouncer stands and collects Billy’s head fee while Steve just flicks his tail to get it.

The bar is crowded with ghouls, and goblins, witches line the bar with their pointy hats. Decorated with arching white spider webs.

Billy knows Steve really only drinks wine because it actually tastes good unlike the piss Billy drinks, so he ain’t surprised when he orders some candy-apple monstrosity. Laps it up with his devilish pink tongue when he gets it. Catches Billy watching over the rim of his tall beer glass.

Steve downs the martini in one gulp before grabbing Billy around the hand, pulling him with a naughty glint in his eye towards the dance floor.

He turns around, moves Billy’s hands around his hips, purrs dance with me, nice and slow?

In a question that doesn’t sound like a question. His tail wrapping possessively around Billy’s legs. Billy groans back, right into the chocolate fudge swirl of his sensitive ear, set the pace, pretty cat, you know I’m good for it.

They let go for song after song, rolling into the next like their bodies roll. Billy’s belt buckle shimmering and catching against the fabric of Steve’s cat suit. Both a mess of sweat, dripping off their foreheads into their greedy open mouths. But they don’t care, they don’t stop.

Not until Steve’s ear gets yanked by another bar patron. Billy’s got his face burrowed into the side of Steve’s neck, drowning the way his wild flower and musk cologne always lingers on the plush leather, so he doesn’t realize anything happening until Steve’s hands move off his own. They lift from where they were cupped around Billy’s own to swat at another hand hovering around his head. His ears. They stayed at if risking another grope.

Steve hissed low and mean, warning three’s a company, creepy bastard! Now back off before I show you how quick I can bite off a dick. His voice nothing like Billy’s heard it. It made his head snap up so quick.

The guy wouldn’t let up, his face ruddy with alcohol and his golden Roman crown as lopsided as his sheet he’s trying to pass off as a costume. He pops a sucker out his mouth to reply. It’s made his whole mouth cherry red, Billy hates to look at it. Hates the words he’s spewing even more.

Steve only lets him get a sentence into his explanation about how a wild cat like you needs a firm hand before he’s shoving with two fingers into the center of the guy��s chest. Backing him up with a sharp nail that disappears into the fabric. Hopefully to leave a prick of blood.

Billy’s hand snaps forward of its own accord, pressing his huge palm flat into the guy’s shoulder and sending him stumbling backwards. He’s always up for a bar fight, knows a drunk bastard like this wouldn’t win always. He shouts out I warned you man, and now I gotta kick your ass! But doesn’t get that far.

He’s caught by two hands on the lapels of his jacket. Yanking him to the side where Steve’s turned from the ass hole. Watching Billy with those nervous dinner plate eyes again. All glittering gold and chocolate chips, making his knees weak. He’s not worth it, Steve purrs. And he’s right. The guy isn’t worth it. But Steve’s worth winning one bar fight and so, so much more. He’s worth the world to Billy. So he listens and follows as they dip to the bathroom.

It’s not until Billy’s coming out of the stall he used to take a leak does he notice that creepy bastard’s pop stuck in the fur of Steve’s tail. It’s amazing he doesn’t feel it, all glossy and red and clutching at the silky fur, but it’s a testimony to how thick his tail really is. Billy knows, he’s had the honor of running his fingers through it enough times.

He offers let me help, get some soap and try to scrub it out.

But Steve just laughs, bracing himself on the side of the cracking porcelain sink, lifting one leg up while the other held his weight, then twists around until the flat of his tongue can lick across the base of his tail. Gathers spit by licking and licking, grooming the pop off his fur inch by inch until it detached into his mouth.

He drops his leg from the sink with a sigh, a dreamy moany thing that Billy’s never going to get out of his head.

Watches as Steve rolls the pop around in his mouth a couple times, savoring the artificial cherry flavor. Savoring the way he wasn’t about to let that ass hole ruin his Halloween. Then he pressed to open the trash bin with one stomp before spitting the pop away.

Billy’s never been more turned on, never been more grossed out as the same time he’s so hard. Never wanted to taste the lingering bubble pop cherry flavor from another pair of lips before.

He simply leans back against another sink and whistles, says that was something else, Stevie, where all can you reach?

And Steve doesn’t tell him. Huffs out the side of his mouth while he rolls his eyes. Blushing pretty. Says I seriously need another drink now. And something not cherry!

And Billy follows him back to the bar, decorated for Halloween and dripping with spider webs, with a smile.

#imagine you find a cat boy in the rain and he just stays and let’s you pet his ears every night huh how wild #but he thinks you don’t love him?? SMH #cat boy Steve #harringrove

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shintorikhazumi · 4 years ago

Text

“Dance For Me.”

A/N: Here’s your pole-dancing AU you bunch of thirsty… people on discord. Idk, I’m bad at… trashtalk if it’s not for self-defense. I also don’t cuss unless it’s in fics. Because I’m technically not cussing, the characters are *wink wink*.

Batting second after Lary! Khazumi~ Coming in! Unless someone already finished before I did and I didn’t notice, haha.

I’m not one to write NSFW. At least not for public… consumption. Borderline, yes. But like… I suck at NSFW, not gonna lie. I’ll try my very best?

I'm also sorry that I can't write pole dancing very well. Hope you can... picture out what's going on. haha.

Weirdest thing I searched for confirmation while writing this was ‘during intercourse are your pupils constricted or dilated’ Because my mind is so lost rn hahha.

My timeline here is before Christmas. I’m sorry. I need it.

Basically, I'm sorry for this trashy fic.

ayt.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

This… is not quite what Diana expected when she left Akko this morning for work at the estate.

The past few months, Akko had been busy with teaching her classes at Luna Nova, on top of performing her scheduled weekend shows in town that the woman just wouldn’t give up the chance to do. Always for the smiles, always for the people’s happiness.

And Diana loves her for that, she really does. Dear Beatrix, she loves her wife- of three years now- to death.

But while she had been excitedly looking forward to the holidays, winter rolling around, expecting that she’d finally have her wife-mind you- all to herself, said wife had other plans, it seems.

Akko had agreed to be booked almost daily this season, and despite being home in Diana’s arms each night, she had absolutely zero energy to do anything but snuggle up to the former heiress and fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

Diana had pouted for days on end, telling Akko to give her one day, to spend just one day with her.

Akko, despite all her regrets of leaving her wife like this, couldn’t just cancel. But she had promised to dedicate the two days before the twenty-fifth, right up ‘til the end of vacation to her lovely spouse.

And Diana has to reluctantly agree. She knows in her heart that this is Akko’s passion, it’s what makes her the amazing woman known for her beautiful believing heart.

Diana just needs patience. So much patience.

But then, on the day of Christmas Eve, she gets a call from the manor. It’s related to the estate. About a sudden accident with one of her people. She couldn’t not go. At least she’d try to finish up early so she could offer her remaining time to-

Akko’s phone rings.

It’s a special request. A little girl’s birthday. And she just had to see the amazing Kagari (-Cavendish) Atsuko perform her special magic. Now this wouldn’t have been that much of a problem had the party been in the morning or early afternoon, however it appeared as though it would take place around five pm. Diana knows it will run overtime. It always does. Everyone loves to bask in the presence and utter warmth of ‘Atsuko’ after all.

So, Begrudgingly, they both prepare for their respective agendas, Diana feeling absolutely depressed over the fact that she would be coming home for Christmas eve to an empty house, cold halls, devoid of the calming scent and lovely voice of her wife singing her favorite Shiny Chariot showtune from the kitchen as she cooked all of Diana’s favorites.

Akko notices. She always does.

She walks up to the sulking blonde, cupping her face in her hands, chuckling at those pouty lips, those teary eyes. “I’m really sorry, my Diana.” She whispers. “Really, I am.”

Diana sighs in defeat, pulling her wife into one last bearhug before work.

“Can I at least have my own Magical Atsuko show?” She uncharacteristically turns her puppy eyes to her wife, only ever showing Akko this spoiled child within.

“I’ll only give you the very best.”

“With a little song?”

“Whatever you’d like

“Mm…” Diana nodded, looking down at her feet before raising her head, one last question on her mind. “Dance for me?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Akko laughed, nuzzling her nose on Diana’s. “But for now,” She pinches the taller witch’s nose playfully before planting a kiss. “This is for the kids.”

…

This is DEFINITELY NOT “for the kids”. For any kids. For anyone for that matter. Diana would never show this to anyone. Over her dead. Lifeless. Fucking. Body.

Nonononono. Diana shakes her head a thousand times internally.

No.

Just no.

Diana gasps as she drops her suitcase on the floor, the contents spilling out at the impact. She had not expected this of all things. She imagined coming home to an empty house, no Akko, and miserable reheated food.

She hadn’t expected unlocking her door to the smells of a rotisserie chicken, some wine, and Akko’s homely scent.

She wasn’t expecting the low thrum of music in the background. She didn’t think that her wife would stand in front of her, in her usual show outfit- no. Wait. This isn’t her show outfit.

Like hell she’d wear that to a children’s party!!

No, this. THIS… This is a knock-off Shiny Chariot costume that is far too skimpy to be sold to the young and pure fans of Chariot. This is one of those costumes you’d see them sell adults for dumb pranks on Halloween, or see it at those kinds of shops.

How did Akko even get that?

Online?

The internet is truly fearsome. Shameless. So Shameless.

And so is Diana as she gawks at her pretty wife, donning a very short white skirt, a top that very much exposes her midriff- technically, only holding together those perky mounds-, a cape that is probably the only thing covering her wife that can be counted as decent, thigh-high- gosh- those thigh-high boots, hair free of that small side pony-tail; and that signature white witch hat tops off the ensemble.

“Welcome home~” Akko greets with her usual cheer, expression innocent and beaming, before it shifts a sultry color, tone dropping into a hushed invitation. “Diana.”

Said woman is quiet, she struggles to form a response.

Akko.

‘Let’s try saying your wife’s name now, Diana Cavendish.’

“A-A-A-A… aaahhhh…”

Oh, Great Beatrix, give me strength.

A lot of it. A trolley’s worth, if you must.

…-and stamina. Please. Strength and stamina to endure.

And Clearly Diana isn’t wishing to hold her ground against temptation.

She might just have a long night ahead.

“Diana.”

“Y-yes! I’m l-listening. Very clearly… most…. Definitely…” She says whilst staring at the gracious amounts of cleavage-

“Of course you are, babe.” Akko chuckles in that sickeningly sweet tone, taking a step forward as Diana takes one back. “Where are you going?” She takes another, as does Diana in the opposite direction, her back meeting the hard wood of their front door.

“N-nowhere, I’m… I’m Home.” Diana feels her hands become clammy, shaking, as she wonders where to put them.

“Heh~… I thought you were running away or something.” Akko smiles kindly, actions not as kind. She traps Diana with her body, arms on either side of her head. “And I wouldn’t like that. Would you?” Her eyes flutter innocently, lashes long, eyes wide.

There was clearly only one correct answer.

“N-no.”

“Good.” Akko laughs like gentle chimes, pleasant to the ear.

Diana smiles, feeling a little more relaxed.

-Before one hand comes off the wall and now climbs up her torso, Akko’s index and middle fingers walking up to Diana’s tie before her hand takes it, pulling it out of the vest.

“I always liked it when you wore ties.” She murmured, eyes blank and scrutinizing the tie. Before Diana could respond, Akko was already resting her head on Diana’s chest, hand absent-mindedly twirling the thin red tie. “I also like that you wear my colors on you.” Akko raised her head, pulling on Diana’s tie so that their faces came so incredibly close to one another, lips a hair’s breadth apart. “Tells people that you're mine.”

That effectively steals the air out of Diana’s lungs as Akko steps back, still holding fast to the tie, pulling Diana along, as if on a leash. Her Japanese wife leads her to the living room and sits her down on their amazingly comfortable couch.

But not even that could ease Diana’s tense nerves.

“H-Hi.”

“Hi, Diana.” Akko greets back, leaning over her wife, a finger gliding from the base of Diana’s throat to her jaw, tipping it up to guide blue eyes up to meet the most intoxicating wine. “What was your last little request for me this morning, again?”

“I- I… uh… um…”

“Yes?” The brunette lowers her body onto Diana’s head tucked between the poor heiress’ shoulder and neck, peppering kisses along her jaw. “Please remember, darling. I really want to do it for you, you know?” She chuckles, biting on a certain spot near Diana’s throat making her yelp, then licking the area to ease the pain. “I prepared really well for it. I tried so hard for you.”

Definitely not the only thing that was hard, Diana thinks.

An uncontrolled whine tears its way out of the blonde’s mouth, mind desperately trying to remember what the hell she last asked.

Then it clicks.

“D-dance…”

“Hmm?”

“Dance for me…?”

Akko seems elated with her answer, nuzzling her neck once before pulling away, Diana missing her warmth… or heat. Or both.

“With pleasure.”

Diana is sure there will be a lot of pleasure involved.

With a flick of her wand (where had Akko hidden that?), a pole rises from the floor in the open space of the room. Akko stalks hypnotizingly towards it, grasping the hard metal with one hand before smoothly pulling herself into her first twirl.

‘Oh Great Nine. This is one of those dances, isn’t it?’

Diana swallows so painfully, finding her throat constricted, the opposite to her dilating pupils as she watches her wife with the focus of a predator waiting on its prey.

Off goes the cape, and Diana only now realizes just how little of her wife’s ass is actually covered by that skirt.

She loves Akko’s ass- She loves Akko. Period.

-along with her thighs and bottom.

She admires her better half’s toned body, muscles flexing and simply wonderful as Akko spins herself around the pole gracefully, hanging onto it with only one hand. The elegance of the movements allows Diana to forget her barely restrained arousal, leaving her in awe for a few moments.

Then a toned leg wraps itself around the pole, Akko rolling her body up against it, turning her gaze to Diana, eyes half-lidded and so sinful. All that talk about grace- screw it, right now.

Another twirl, and another, and another.

Akko climbs her way up the pole so sensually, Diana wishes she were the one being climbed like that. Then Akko stops near the top, almost as though she was frozen. Diana waits with bated breath, before Akko’s hands suddenly release the pole, falling backwards; and Diana panics, thinking something happened and her wife was about to hit the ground hard- but only the hat does so. Akko’s body hangs smoothly in the air, legs squeezing tight, flexing those amazing thighs.

Oh, to be between them instead.

The spinning restarts. Repeats over and over, legs stretching out, then pulling in. At times, an arm would reach out, almost as if it were inviting the audience in, to come closer; to come touch this performer. Then Akko lowers herself to the ground, movements sophisticated, nimble, body poised, and oh so sensual. It’s an interpretative dance, and there must be story behind it.

Diana just doesn’t have enough brain power to process it.

She gasps as her wife stands up; the skirt is forgone, leaving Akko in racy black panties that matches her top that might as well not exist. And again, she’s on that pole, embracing it, caressing it with one hand, down to her body, allowing her palm to slide down her chest to a taut stomach, abs glistening in sweat, before reaching down her legs, and between her thighs, then out, back to latching onto the pole.

The loss of garment shouldn’t distract her. She’s sure this action was to give her wife better grip on the pole. Definitely the reason. Yes. Not because this was… was a… that.

Of course.

Breaking the unspoken rule of silence, a voice suddenly begs for her attention.

“Diana…”

…

Fuck.

“Nnmm!”

Diana throws her head back for a second, needing to relieve her burdened senses at the sight that had just greeted her mere moments ago.

Akko had basically rubbed herself against the pole, her most intimate place surely touching it as she slid up then down, dropping into an air-split, barely hovering over the ground, still twirling, yet painfully slow this time, basically presenting herself to the very red mess breathing heavily on the couch.

Diana’s not sure she can stay seated anymore. She’s been holding back. She’s certain she can’t keep holding back.

“But why are you holding back?”

The question throws her for a loop, eyes so wide, as she stares at Akko’s tantalizing figure, draped over her pole, breathing as difficultly as Diana is.

She releases her show equipment, leaving the pole to disappear as she strides forward provocatively, halting in front of Diana, placing her hands down on the blonde’s open lap, freeing them from their squeezed-together position just moments ago. They massage at Diana’s thighs, and the heiress moans, unsuppressed.

Her dancer takes a seat on her lap, hands busying themselves with loosening Diana’s tie a bit more, removing it from her before Akko slings it around her own neck.

“You are so mean, Diana… even after I called for you so many times…” Akko whispers against her lips, eyes fiery and slightly angered. Diana’s hands are guided to rest on Akko’s hips as she grinds against her wife needily. “Utterly horrible.”

It should be the winter season as it was Christmas. Diana knows that the outside world was harshly cold and chilly, but that temperature did not seem to apply to her. Most definitely not within Diana, and most definitely not between her leee-heeeeg- ‘damn you, Akko’.

“Why would you not come for me?”

‘Which ‘come’ might we be discussing here’, Diana wonders.

“I… I didn’t know… my apologies.” Diana stutters out, distracted by the hand touching the inside of her thigh.

“Even when I made it so obvious?” Akko pouts, biting Diana’s shoulder angrily as her hands make quick work of the taller witch’s buttoned shirt. Those same hands splay against her collarbone and shoulders, caressing and teasing, moving to the back of her head to massage her scalp. The Head of Cavendish gets pulled into a long kiss, her significant other’s tongue pleading entrance as it licks along Diana’s full lips, thighs squeezing Diana’s legs.

Diana permits, giving the appendage access to explore her mouth completely, sometimes brushing against her gums, and gliding along her teeth, entangling with her own tongue. Akko pulls away with a rough nip on Diana’s lower lip.

The latter’s hand is held captive, guided somewhere along her lover’s body.

The heiress fails at hindering any sounds from escaping her as she feels hot liquid drip onto her fingers, before pooling into her open palm. So that’s where Akko had brought it.

“Diana.”

Her eyes are bewitching. Fitting of her occupation. They hold Diana’s gaze a prisoner, not against her will. They compel her to do something. Akko rubs against her once more, and Diana whimpers aloud.

“Diana.”

Arms tighten their loop against Diana’s neck. Akko’s voice still sounds calm and controlled, but her actions tell Diana that she is anything but. She’s basically riding her at this point.

“Diana.”

“Y-yesh?!” Hooded, dark, tempting. Akko’s eyes were all those things. And maybe Diana’s were too.

“Diana.”

“Yes…?” Diana feels a switch flip as her finger slips into that wet, heated space and makes Akko cry a lovely tone. She goes deaf to the world, all her focus on the woman shivering delightfully in her arms.

“Diana…”

“Yes…”

“Dance with me.”

A/N: So… sequel?

~Shintori Khazumi

#dianakko #Little Witch Academia #lwa #rated m #read at your own discretion #diana x akko #diana #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #kagari akko #pole dancing au #fanfic

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divineluce · 4 years ago

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Research Reunion || Orion & Luce

Timing: May 11th, 2021

Tagging: @3starsquinn & @divineluce

Location: The Scribrary

Description: Who else would know phoenixes better than a Scribe? Luce goes to Rio for help-- third time’s the charm. Right?

Grabbing her backpack from the passenger seat of her car, Luce glanced up at the Scribary. She remembered the last time she’d been here, vividly, in fact. She’d been asking Rio for help that day too. Help for… Swallowing, she slid the backpack over her shoulder, keenly aware of the books inside. They were the one she’d borrowed from Rio, months and months ago. Books about ghosts, about exorcisms. She’d poured over every single page, trying to figure out how she could do something. And in the end, she hadn’t even been able to help. She’d failed. Nadia was safe, but no thanks to her. It was like how Remmy was safe, how Bea was safe-- by virtue of being nowhere near this town, they were safe. Luce made her way to the door of Scribe HQ and knocked on the door. “Hey. I need your help.” She said, not looking at Rio. The last time they’d seen each other… She didn’t want to think about that. Instead, she awkwardly held up her backpack, “I’ve also got some overdue books.”

Orion hadn’t expected to hear from Luce. The two hadn’t seen each other since everything with Lydia. And the last that he had heard from her was the alcoholic apology for punching him. Rio just hadn’t been sure which time specifically she had been apologizing for. Maybe it was meant as a catch all. Broken cheek bone aside, getting punched was nowhere near the reason that Rio expected the two hadn’t seen each other since the incident. The whole situation with Lydia… it still weighed on Rio. People had died. Instead of getting to help, Rio had been promise bound into hurting his sister and friends all in an attempt to help a serial killer escape. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for being so naive. At the end of the day, Rio and Luce had never been particularly close. She was more like the sister of the best friend of the person Rio had been dating. Familiar with each other by extension, acquaintances by association. “Hi there.” Rio held the door open, scratching the back of his neck as a nervous tick while conveniently covering half of his face with his arm. Just the memory of Luce made his face throb. “I really hope we can do introductions without the uh- punching thing this time.” Rio smiled innocently, though the joke sounded more like a genuine plea than anything a normal person would laugh at. But if there was anything that could get Rio out of that funk it was the mention of his books. “Really?! That’s amazing. That means I can take you off my list. Come on, follow me we can head back to the library.” Rio waved her inside and started off down the winding hallways, “So uh- it’s been a while. How ya been?”

Grimacing at the memories of how she’d… greeted him in the past, Luce offered a tight lipped smile. “Nope. No punching this time.” She said. Christ. He was just a fucking kid. And she’d fucking clocked him. Twice. She needed to work on that. She needed to work on a lot of things, but decking kids was definitely on the list. Slipping the bag off her shoulder, Luce pulled out two of the thick leather bound books and tossed them to Rio. “Yep, right here. Ghosts and Ghouls and Diaries of an Exorcist. Real light reading.” She said before squinting in slight confusion. “A list?” She echoed as she followed him inside. The hallway seemed a bit brighter than the last time she’d been here and she realized there were lights installed along the halls. Lights that hadn’t been there before-- Winston’s handiwork, she realized. Winston must have fixed the place up before she left. Yet another person who was better off away from here.

Shrugging, she mulled over her response. Out of magic. Out of people to turn to. Which is why she was here, why she’d talked to Leah. “Keeping on keeping on. Just trying to fix some shit, that’s all. What about you?” She asked.

It felt like there were a million books in the Scribrary. Far too many for Orion to ever truly miss a random ghost book that Luce had borrowed a few months back. Still, there was something oddly comforting about knowing that one was going to be back where it belonged and he could mark it off the list. “Oh yeah. I sort of started a list. Like a book check out system, so that I can keep a better track where the books are. If I can’t find one I start to get stressed, so it’s a bit calming to know which ones are in someone else’s hands.” Rio shrugged following the explanation. Even he knew that it seemed a little over the top, but considering people had found their way in before without his knowledge he also thought it’d be a good idea to keep track just in case a book disappeared that he hadn’t lent out. Farther down the hallway, he couldn’t help himself from making further conversation, “For the record, what I said earlier? When you first got here? Totally a joke. I don’t blame you for either time you-” Rio held up a fist and motioned towards his face. “Just so you know.”

Rio wondered what Luce meant by that. What exactly was she trying to fix? It probably had something to do with what she was doing here asking for his help. “Good to hear.” Rio answered regardless. It hadn’t been the most positive answer, but keeping on was about as good as it got in White Crest, “Loaded question. I guess I’m alright, all things considered. It’s just been a long year already.” He didn’t want to bother Luce with all of his issues. It was just depressing and sad, “But I’m glad you dropped by. I’m happy to help with whatever you need.”

“Huh. Guess that makes sense.” Luce said, because it did on some level. She’d never liked books, never really cared much for anything that she couldn’t listen to or see or feel. But it made sense for Rio to keep track of shit. They continued down the hallway in relative silence, Luce aware of how fucking awkward it all was. She’d never really given a shit about Rio. Which was a pretty terrible thing, but it was true. Rio wasn’t someone she’d bothered to get to know-- he was just Winston’s boyfriend. But, he wasn’t just that, was he? He’d been there, that day… he’d seen what she’d done. He’d stood between her and Lydia and she hadn’t cared. And fuck. He was… human. Innocent. “You should. I shouldn’t have punched you. Either time.” She said, her voice dull, sounding almost as numb as she felt. The memories of that day still haunted her. Day and night, what she’d done, it stayed with her.

“Yeah.” Luce said offhandedly. “I feel that. A long fucking year already.” It was hard to believe that a single year had passed since she’d been pulled from her cabin by her parents, forced to live with Bea and Nell. Now, she would give almost anything to even see her parents, let alone argue with them over whether it was really necessary for her to live with her sisters as a grown ass adult. Clearing her throat as they entered a room lined with shelves crammed full of books, “Great. I’m looking for books on phoenix’s. Specifically stuff on what can cause corruption. I reached out to,” Luce paused, not knowing if Rio was exactly on the up and up with Leah, “someone who knows about phoenix’s, but they didn’t know much either.”

It was obvious from her tone that Luce didn’t want to talk about it. Orion couldn’t claim that he wanted to talk about it either. It was awkward. Especially with someone he didn’t actually know well. “I mean the first time was just a misunderstanding. I can’t fault you for looking out for Winston.” Rio shrugged. He hadn’t loved it when it had happened. And he had mostly wished that Luce would have given him at least a minute to try to explain himself before she chose to punch him instead. But Rio and Luce weren’t super close. Luce cared about Winston and owed nothing to Rio. “I can’t say I would have done the same, but that’s just because I’m very non confrontational. I’d rather silently second guess from afar.” The second time was an entirely different story. “And we all know that I wasn’t in control with Lydia. You had to do what you had to do. If anyone should be apologizing it’s me. I threw a knife at you.” The reminder of it flashed through his head. The snapping of Athena’s arm. The air whistling as the knife flew and landed in the back of Luce’s leg. He blinked the images away and tried to focus again. “I’m just saying, neither one was exactly unmotivated.”

Inside the library, Rio was able to breathe a tiny bit easier. Something about the place calmed him. Maybe being here with Luce was not any less awkward than it was in the hallway, but it felt less claustrophobic. Physically and mentally. “Phoenixes?” Rio repeated, crossing his arms and giving a huff as he tried to consider what might be useful. “Honestly? There’s not a ton of information on them in the Scribrary. I have a theory, but can’t really prove it. But I think maybe one of them knew enough about their past lives to take the books that were stored here. Or the Phoenixes that worked as Scribes never trusted them enough with the knowledge.” All of that was speculation, a theory mostly beginning when he learned that Leah’s past life had been involved with the Scribes. Part of Rio wanted to question Luce’s source. Given her sister’s relationship with Leah, it made sense that Leah directly might be the source. But he didn’t have any interest in outing the woman if Luce wasn’t privy to that knowledge. Leah was actually starting to trust Rio, despite his hunter heritage. He didn’t want to give her any reason to jeopardize that. “But I definitely have some stuff on them. Follow me.”

“I should have stopped to think. To ask questions, get some straight answers.” Luce replied dully, her boots falling heavily against the solid stone pavers of the building. How fucking old was this place anyways, she wondered absently. It seemed older than the town itself. “I should have done a lot of shit differently.” She said, but grimaced at Rio’s next words. You had to do what you had to do. No. She’d done much more than that. She remembered the way she’d set fire to innocent bystanders, people caught in the crossfire of a world they weren’t even aware of. She could feel the flames curl and crackle against their skin. She could remember the way rage and fear had coursed through her. “Sure. They weren’t unmotivated.” But they were motivated for the wrong fucking reasons.

Glancing around at the massive store of books, Luce had a hard time believing that the Scribes didn’t have much on the subject of Phoenix’s. They had to have something. They had to have information. Or else… what was Luce going to do? Give up. Go back to Adam and tell her she wasn’t the right person for the job. Her magic was gone, her sister was gone, her family had abandoned her for what she was. And now, she couldn’t-- she couldn’t even find a goddamn book. Luce wrapped her arms around herself as she listened to him, as though she could hold all the remains of who she was together. “Alright. Makes sense to me. Theories and stuff aren’t my wheelhouse, but sure. Lead the way.” She nodded.

Unable to argue that, Orion just shrugged. At the time, he had certainly wished that Luce had stopped to question Rio on the topic or tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Partially because he didn’t enjoy getting punched in the face, but mostly because he had hoped that he ame off friendly and pleasant enough that Luce might have questioned the misunderstanding entirely. He had to remind himself that the two had not been friends at the time. He wasn’t even sure what they were now. “Yeah. Well I get that much. I would have done a lot differently too.” Like never promise a random woman that he would protect her at all costs. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure he would have done anything different. He still wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt. He just couldn’t help himself from making stupid decisions.

Rio didn’t waste any time leading her to the few materials that he had found on phoenixes. Most were journals by other scribes talking about their experience with them, though there were a few self-collected bestiaries that almost devoted a small section to them. Certainly not as vast as some of the more common supernatural creatures. Books about vampires or werewolves took up multiple bookshelves, while mentions of Phoenixes fit neatly on a single row. “I guess theories and stuff is sort of my area of expertise. If you want to call it that.” He honestly wasn’t sure what he would describe as his ‘wheelhouse’. When he got to the shelf, and pulled off a book and started flipping through it, “So if there’s anything about them it’s probably here. Feel free to start flipping through some of them. What kind of corruption do you mean?”

“Shoulda,” Luce kicked at a broken piece of cobblestone, “Coulda,” The stone bounced and skittered across the floor ahead of her, “Woulda.” She said, a grim expression on her face. There were a lot of things she would have done differently. She wouldn’t have let herself get carried away by fear, by anger. She wouldn��t have called in a favor from a woman she hardly knew or understood. She wouldn’t have listened to the words of a kid, of a… fuck. She was more than just a kid. Athena was Rio’s sister. Christ. Rubbing her forehead, Luce followed him to a different section of the scribrary. The books here were all old, leather bound things, with worn spines. No doubt used by generations of Hunters and Scribes alike. And now… her. To try and do something good for once.

“The way I see it, you’re the expert here on books. Theories go right along with that.” She shrugged. Luce wasn’t a theory gal, wasn’t a reader, barely even gave a shit about learning things she cared about. Rubbing a hand on her arm, Luce thought back to the scene she and Adam had witnessed in the forest. The way the fires had burned an natural red, the way a curved beak had seemed to jut from the phoenix’s face, while their head remained human. Pulling another book from the shelf, she paused at an anatomical diagram of a phoenix, in both human and full form. How had the person who wrote this book figured out the anatomy? Had the phoenix in this sketch offered this knowledge? Or had it been taken? Luce cleared her throat. “The flames, they didn’t burn like normal fire. Or normal phoenix fire either. There were feathers, on fire, being shed all over the place. And they didn’t go out on their own. They just kept burning, like oil. And the flames, they didn’t look right. There was this shade of red, to them. I’ve never seen fire look like that before.” She frowned, “And I know fire.”

Listening to Luce’s description, a worried line settled across Orion’ face. “That sounds scary.” He didn’t know much about phoenixes, but that definitely didn’t sound normal. Plus, he trusted Luce if she said that it hadn’t been normal. “Definitely not something you see everyday.” Rio had a bad feeling that if the former Scribe phoenixes did know anything about this it wasn’t something that they would want stored in Scribe records for anybody in the group to see. His only hope was that something was left behind, or somebody was studying the phoenix without their knowledge. Just the thought of that made him feel gross, though. He didn’t want to operate like that. Studying someone that didn’t want their secrets out. He would be better. He had to be. “Do you think they were dangerous?”

Had it been scary? Maybe. At this point, Luce had seen so much shit in this town, done so much fucked up shit… it hadn’t really registered as scary. Which was a troubling thought-- one that she could deal with later. When she wasn’t trying to stop half the woods outside of White Crest from getting set ablaze. Shrugging, she continued to flip through her book, “Nope. Not at all. Apparently, they also were able to melt through a car. Which means they’re powerful. Real goddamn powerful.” She said, thinking back to the melted shards of glass and obsidian, the dried streambed. At Rio’s question, Luce paused. Yes, definitely. But not because they wanted to be. “They’re dangerous only because they’re out of control. Whatever happened to them, it doesn’t look like it was intentional. Magic might change someone’s appearance, but it wouldn’t be enough to alter their flames. I think they’re in trouble.” I think they’re afraid of what they’ve done. What they might do.

Orion continued flipping through his own book, but couldn’t help but glance up at Luce as she described the encounter. She sounded so casual while discussing so insanely powerful. Rio had been dealing with the supernatural his entire life and he still couldn’t quite manage to keep himself that calm. “Woah. Didn’t know that was something they could do. That’s like… insanely hot.” Rio had no idea exactly how hot, but definitely not a safe amount of hot. He realized moments too late what he had said. “Hot as in like actual temperature hot, I mean. Not like attractive hot. For the record. I mean melting a car might be very attractive. I’ve never seen it for myself.” Definitely time to focus on reading that book again. He pulled it up to try to head his reddening face and only peaked over the top to look back at Luce when she gave him the best news he had heard so far tonight. That she didn’t think it was intentional. She didn’t think they were dealing with someone evil, but someone that might need help. Now that he could get behind. “In that case, we have to find something. I want to help.”

“Sure is.” Luce said off-handedly as she read a paragraph about phoenix feathers and molting patterns. Hm. Nothing there. A bit late, she realized that Rio was sputtering over his words. Glancing up from her book, she offered a grin. “Keep it in your pants there. But no, I know what you mean. It’s real fucking hot. I’ve melted metal before, but that shit takes time. And I only did doorknobs. I could never cut something as huge as a car. Guess that’s what happens when you’re basically a living sun.” She said before going back to her book. Fuck, she hated reading. Why weren’t there like… audiobooks for this shit? Or some wise old person to tell her what was up? Well. There were plenty of wise old spell casters in town, the difference was… they just wouldn’t have anything to do with her anymore. She couldn’t exactly go to them for help. So, Rio and Leah were the next best thing. At Rio’s words, Luce looked at him again, expression pensive. “Why? This isn’t your responsibility, you don’t need to help me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. But why?” Was he trying to ease guilt the way she was, was he trying to atone?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Orion laugh sarcastically, thankful that Luce didn’t spend much time teasing him on the subject. Instead, she surprised him. He knew about her family's power, but he had no idea she had been strong enough to use the fire to cut metal. “That’s impressive. I guess I should have known that fire magic like that could get that powerful.” The extent of his knowledge on spellcasters came from Winston and the Vural family admittedly. The Quinn family had never partnered much with spellcasters to help catch supernatural creatures. They had always been far too proud. He hadn’t been expecting Luce to question his intentions. It took him off guard, mostly because he didn’t really know them himself. Though he had more than a few ideas. “Um… I guess I don’t know the right answer to that.” Rio shrugged, but continued to consider the question, “I guess I’ve seen a lot of bad stuff in my life? I was raised as a hunter, told that supernatural people were inherently evil and unnatural. I knew that wan’t true, but I never got a chance to help them.” More often than not, Rio had stood idly by while watching them get slaughtered. It wasn’t a feeling that Rio would soon forget, the helplessness of knowing he couldn’t stop it. The disgust at himself for not trying anyways. He had failed so many people in this town. He just didn’t want to do that anymore. “Now’s my chance. I don’t want to waste it.”

“It can.” When it works. When it wants to. “But, I couldn’t do something like that even if I wanted to.” Luce said, saying the words her brain was thinking automatically. Luce’s mouth snapped shut and she stared at Rio. Fuck. Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say that. She didn’t-- she didn’t want more people to know about this than need be. She didn’t have the protection of the coven and Bea had only just gotten back from New York, she didn’t want to add more to her sister’s plate. Same went for Nell—she didn’t want to force her baby sister to watch her back. If more people knew that Luce was without her magic, it would paint a big fucking target on her back. “I didn’t say that. You didn’t hear anything about my magic. You got it?” She asked, voice shaking slightly.

Listening to his words, Luce couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could have thought that this kid could be a hunter. He might have the genes, but there wasn’t a cruel bone in his body. “Yeah. Don’t fucking waste it.” She repeated before looking blankly back down at the book that was clutched in her hands. Any other time, the pages would be scorched and smoking in her grasp, a byproduct of her stress and anger. But the pages were only slightly crumpled under her fingers. Fuck.

Orion was left confused and concerned about Luce’s comment. It had been said so quickly that it had almost completely gone over his head completely. But a few moments after Rio’s eyes narrowed as he became perplexed by the wording. His head tilted, glancing away from the book in order to get a better look at Luce. Before he even had a chance to question her, Luce was talking again. She seemed pretty adamant that this was not something to be spoken of. Or even remembered from the sounds of it. That only concerned Rio more. “Right. Uh- didn’t hear anything.” Rio bit his lip and considered if there was anything else he should say. Adam had experienced something similar with his own abilities. Why did that thing only happen to people that actually wanted the powers? “But uh- if I did hear something, I’d definitely be there for you. Like to help figure that out. But I wouldn’t tell anyone. If I had heard anything.”

Not wasting the opportunity would be a lot easier if Rio knew what to do to help. That was the first step in helping others. Still, he appreciated Luce’s energy. It was intimidating for sure, sometimes downright scary. But it was surprisingly motivating. It made Rio want to find the answer to this more than ever. “I won’t. We’re going to help.” Rio tried remaining confident. Good vibes only. “Even if we have to write it ourselves.”

“Nope. You sure didn’t.” Luce said flatly before looking back at her book. It was useless though. She wasn’t the studying type usually and even less so when she had an audience. She glared up at him, ready to tear him a new one if he kept up on this subject. But, as she looked over at him and saw the expression on his face, she couldn’t help but sigh. She didn’t want his help, but… “We’ve got more important things to deal with than my shit. But thanks. You don’t need to, though.”

“Yeah.” She said with a nod before flicking through her book. “Whatever it takes.” Luce said quietly, the words familiar to her tongue. Not in the same context, not in the same way, but the words were just as true as they were a year ago. Whatever it takes. She’d right her wrongs, one step at a time. As she skimmed over the pages, she paused on what looked like… an ingredient list. It seemed to be talking about some kind of illness-- not corruption, exactly. But something that affected phoenix flames. “Hey. What do you think about this?” She asked, pointing at the list. “Essence of the phoenix stricken by disease. White flowered herbs found where wild creatures roam, bound with sage and lavender to purify. Tears of another freely given and,” Luce squinted at the text, “Fire. Lots of fire.”

Clearly, Luce was serious about not bringing it up. Orion continued to peak over the book at her, trying to pick up on any signs without asking. Asking wasn’t the right idea it seemed. Rio wasn’t sure that he could necessarily relate. He had always hated his abilities, had wished that they would go away. For him, losing them felt like a blessing in disguise. But for someone that seemingly liked and enjoyed the powers they had always had, it must be a lot harder. Like an extension of themselves. Rio didn’t understand, but he could guess that it must feel like losing a part of herself. “Point taken. Subject dropped.” Rio assured her, though he hoped at some point it would come up again.

Rio continued skimming through his own book until Luce pointed something out in the book she was looking through. He bent around to get a better look at the list and scanned through quickly, noting a few words that stuck out to him. “A phoenix disease? Never heard of that before. But that could make sense.” If there was ever a disease specific to phoenixes, one of the first things Rio would consider was their fire abilities and temperature. “So is the list some kind of spell? Or potion maybe?” He squinted at the list further and sighed, “They kept it pretty vague. Except for the fire part.”

At least he dropped it. That was something. Luce focused on the list-- there wasn’t much to go off of at all. It read more like an old ritual that the coven would do, one of the ancient rites that they did on a yearly basis. Big magic, powerful magic. The books Bea had kept, the ones on necromancy, they had featured lists similar to these. They were written to be vague for a reason. “It’s a spell. A potion would have more specific instructions, discussion about tinctures or timing. This is a ritual, some kind of cleansing. The sage and lavender tell me that much.” She tapped the line on the book before flipping the page. But, there were no further instructions, no other words. “Whoever wrote this, they kept their cards close to their chest. And I don’t blame them. The Scribe who figured this out, they must have worked with spellcasters and at least one phoenix. Can’t imagine either of them would have wanted the specifics of a ritual to be written out.” She said with a sigh and pulled out her phone to take a picture of the list. “I don’t know exactly what all of this means. The fire is clear and the lavender and sage are easy enough to source. The specifics of it, though. Can’t tell you.” Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Luce wished she was better at this. Better at all the parts of magic that she’d scorned. Because then, maybe she wouldn’t feel so lost.

Orion listened to Luce’s description intently. He was thankful to have a friend well versed on spells like that. That is what Luce was, right? A friend? Today more than ever, it seemed like there was actually a small chance of that. “Good to know.” Rio nodded, making a mental note of this in the back of his mind. He may never be involved in a spell or potion making, but he would at least remember how to tell a difference between the two, hopefully. “Big shocker there, a scribe being cryptic and vague.” He sighed. For a group dedicated to cataloguing supernatural knowledge for historical use, a lot of scribes didn’t love putting things in layman's terms. “I can’t tell you anything for sure, but I have a couple theories. That part about wild creatures. I would bet they’re referring to more than just your average wild animal. Probably somewhere with a large population of supernatural creatures. And this part,” Rio paused to look at the part about the tears of another, “Phoenix tears are supposed to be special, right? Some kind of super healer or something.”

“Witches aren’t much better. Must be a paranoid magic thing.” Luce said with a shake of her head before shutting the book. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of what it meant and, honestly, she wanted to be able to study the book on her own. It took her time to parse through magical shit, she didn’t pick up written spells and rituals quickly. “Mind if I borrow this? I’ll give it back sooner than the last batch.” She said, shaking the ancient book in her hand. “As far as what you’re saying… It makes sense, but keep looking for anything that might help. We don’t even know if this would help a phoenix who’s been corrupted. This is talking about disease, but I don’t think what we’re dealing with is a disease. I’ve got some leads I might track down, see if they can help.” She let out another sigh. “But yeah. Thanks for your help with this.”

Magic seemed fickle. Orion nodded at Luce’s statement, wondering what made it so different from hunter strength or a werewolf’s ability to turn. In the end, it was all some kind of magic, right? Some unexplained phenomenon that made people stronger or more capable than regular people. None of it made sense. But without any insight, Rio decided to just nod in agreement and leave it at that. “Yeah of course. Take whatever you want. I’ll just make a note of them before you leave. For this archive thing.” He shrugged, sure that she wasn’t interested in hearing about his attempts to modernize this ancient library. “Definitely. I’ll keep looking. Keep me updated okay? So I can help with stuff.”

Shoving the book into her backpack, Luce nodded. “I think just the one will be enough for me. It’s not exactly light reading.” She said as she shrugged on her bag. As she turned to leave, she glanced at the young Scribe for a moment. He really did want to help. And fuck, she needed the help. She wasn’t smart enough, didn’t know enough about magic outside of her own fire. And she couldn’t do this alone. It wasn’t possible, not if she wanted to help this person. “Yeah, I will. I’ll keep you posted. And if you find anything… let me know.” She said before turning her back on Rio and walking back down the dark corridors of the Scribrary. First Leah, now Rio. Who else would know about this? Who else could help her? Who else would understand why she… needed to do this?

It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. “Whatever it takes.” She repeated to herself. Whatever it takes, to bring some scrap of balance back to the world. To right the wrongs in her past. Whatever it takes.

#p: rr #p: orion quinn #chatzy #wickedswriting

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shining-red-diamond · 4 years ago

Text

Over the Rainbow (ACT I)

Genre: Fluff, angst in some parts, Wizard of Oz!AU

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, kidnapping, illness, and death; fluff, some peril

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Reader x TBZ English line (Jacob, Kevin, and Eric) (feat. Sangyeon and Kim Chungha)

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed a few elements to make this story have my own spin on it. It still follows the same basic storyline of the 1939 film.

Dust from the dirt path kicked up from Y/N’s shoes as she ran with her dog away from Mrs. Gulch’s garden. The old grouch had nearly put Toto out of his misery with her rake. Y/N she was going to be in trouble for allowing her precious dog to chase Mrs. Gulch’s cat, but all she worried about now was if her dog was hurt.

“I’m calling the sheriff, young lady!” Mrs. Gulch had threatened the second the two had escaped the garden. “And you better had put that mutt away!”

As soon as she felt far away enough from the old woman’s house, Y/N knelt down by her dog.

“Did she hurt you, boy?” she asked the small, black, wiry-haired dog as she checked his back. Toto just wagged his tail as if nothing was wrong, which told Y/N that he was fine. “She tried to, didn’t she?” –She snuggled him to her chest- “Come on. We’ll go tell Auntie Em and Uncle Henry what happened.”

It was only another half mile before Y/N spotted her family’s farm just about a football field in the distance, and within a few seconds she had reached the gate camouflaged in the white picket fence. Y/N found her aunt and uncle busying themselves in the chicken coop counting baby chicks as the little birds peeped.

Emily (Em for short) was about mid-fifties, her golden-washed hair pulled back into a low bun, revealing the wrinkles on her careworn face. She was a kind and gracious woman in town, but when she was working on the farm or busy in the kitchen, there was no stopping her. When she wanted something done, she made sure to get it done. Her husband Henry was her age, maybe a couple years her senior. He had a few more wrinkles than Em and was balding at the top of his head. Like his wife, Henry was kind and caring, but he was a little more laid back when it came to busy work. However, he was still a hard-worker and had established the farm from scratch.

Y/N had come to live with them after her parents passed when she was ten years old. It was an adjustment from the city into life in the country, but Em and Henry were gracious to let Y/N to come live with them.

“Auntie Em!” Y/N called as she rushed in, Toto following close behind her. “Auntie Em! Uncle Henry!”

“22, 23, 24,” Em counted each chick.

“Auntie Em,” Y/N was now right next her aunt, “you’ll never believe what Mrs. Gulch did to Toto. She-“

“Now, Y/N,” Em sighed, “can’t you see we’re busy? We’re trying to count.”

Y/N didn’t listen as she ran over to her uncle. “Uncle Henry, I was on my way home-“

“Did you not hear, your Aunt, dear?” Henry interrupted. “The incubator’s broke, so we’re trying to make sure we didn’t lose any babies.”

“Oh, the poor little things.” She managed to stroke one of the chicks’ fuzzy, yellow head with her fingertip. “But Aunt Em, Mrs. Gulch hit Toto right over the back with her rake, because she says he gets in her garden and chases her nasty, old cat every day.”

Em took that chick and said, “Why don’t you run along, and we’ll talk at supper?”

Y/N ignored her. “But he doesn’t do it every day,” she continued her rant. “Just once or twice a week. And he can’t catch her old cat, anyway. Now, she says she’s gonna get the sheriff-“

“Y/N, please!” her aunt begged.

With a defeated sigh, Y/N knew she wasn’t going to get her aunt and uncle’s attention right now. Instead of trying again, she decided to try to console to the farmhands, Toto trotting behind her.

All three of them were friends to Y/N. Kevin was the comedian of the group. He always got his work done, but he also new how to make others laugh while doing so. He was once caught dancing with a pitchfork when Uncle Henry played his record player to pass the time. Jacob was the gentle father figure; maybe it was because he was a dad himself. He and his wife had moved into to town about a year earlier, and Auntie Em had helped her deliver their daughter. As a farmhand, he always made sure to work hard at whatever task he was assigned. The youngest of the bunch, Eric, was Y/N’s best friend, but he always tended to act like it was something more. He was a sweetheart, but like the other two, he was a hard worker.

Most days, Eric always had a smile on his face, but now, with a smashed finger, he was not in the best mood.

“There goes my finger,” he groaned.

“Better your finger than your head,” Kevin said as he started carrying food to the pigs’ feeding trough.

“Kevin,” Y/N went up to him, “what am I gonna about do Mrs. Gulch? Just because Toto chases her old cat-“

“Listen, honey,” he interrupted her, “I’ve got the hogs to feed.”

“Now, listen, Y/N,” Eric chimed in, “you’re not using your head about Mrs. Gulch. Think you didn’t have any brains at all.”

“I have brains.”

“Then, why don’t you use them? When you come home, don’t go by Mrs. Gulch’s place, then Toto won’t get in her garden, and you won’t get in no trouble. See?”

“Oh, Eric,” Y/N scoffed. “You just won’t listen, that’s all.”

Eric began on another task before replying, “Well, you’re head’s not made of straw, you know?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked away from him. She wandered over to where Kevin was rounding up the pigs into their pen.

“Come on,” he commanded them. “Get in there before I make a dime bank out of you.”

Out of boredom, Y/N climbed onto the wide fence and started to walk across them, keeping her arms out to maintain her balance.

“Listen, kid,” Kevin said before filling the pigs’ trough. “Are you gonna let that old heffer mess with you? She’s nothing to be afraid of. Have a little courage, is all.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” Y/N justified as she continued her walk.

“Then, the next time she squawks, walk right up to her and spit in her eye. That’s what I’d do.”

Kevin was also the most reliable to talk to when you had a problem. Even the smallest of issues you would be facing would be met with advice from Kevin, even if it came of as a joke or a bit of sarcasm.

Y/N started to laugh, but it ended up making her lose her balance. She flew down into the pigpen as they began running around in fear of what just dropped into their living area.

Afraid of getting trampled, Y/N cried for help.

“Kevin, help!” she screamed. “Get me out of here! Help!”

Within a split second, Kevin had booked it over to her, scooped her out of the pen, and carried her to safety. Eric and Jacob helped her stand, and poor Kevin sat down with his hat off and a hand over his heart.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Jacob asked with concern laced in his voice.

“Yes, I’m okay,” she assured, her voice trembling a little. “I fell in, and Kevin-“ She noticed the farmhand shaking; sweat beginning to run from his dark hairline. “Why Kevin, you’re just as scared as I am.”

“What’s the matter?” Eric teased. “A little pig make a coward out of you?”

“What’s all of the jabber-whopping when there’s work to be done?” Auntie Em’s voice disrupted the laughter. The other four immediately went silent. “I know three farmhands who’ll be out of a job before they know it.”

“Well, Y/N was walking along-,” Jacob chuckled as he tried to explain, but was interrupted by Aunt Em.

“I saw you tinkering with that contraption, Jacob,” she shut him up quickly. “Now, you and Eric get back to that wagon.”

“Alright, Mrs. Gale,” Jacob sighed as he began to walk away, be he almost immediately turned back around. “But someday they’re gonna build a statue of me in this town, and-“

“Well, don’t start posing for it now.”

Eric laughed, and then Aunt Em gave them some dill pickles to snack on.

Kevin took one and tried to explain what had happened, but Em put her foot down.

“It’s no place for Y/N around a pigsty,” she informed. “Now you go mind those hogs before they worry themselves into anemia.”

“Yes, Mrs. Gale,” Kevin nodded.

Em and Y/N began walking away, and Y/N took the opportunity to try to talk to her aunt again.

“Auntie Em, really,” she whined again, “you know what Mrs. Gulch said she’s gonna do to Toto? She said she was gonna-“

Em just shook her had and told, “Now, Y/N, you must stop imagining things. You always get yourself into a fuss over nothing. You just help us out today, and find yourself where you won’t get yourself into any trouble.”

She scurried off, leaving Y/N standing in shock. Her aunt was always there to help her when she needed it, but Y/N had a tendency to exaggerate things at times. She guessed that her aunt thought this was one of those times, but she understood. Maybe Mrs. Gulch was just threatening her and Toto out of spite as usual, but the look on the old grouch’s face said otherwise.

“Someplace where there isn’t any trouble,” Y/N sighed. She looked at her furry friend, who was sitting on the ground and looking up at her as if taking in her every word.

“You think there is such a place, Toto?” Y/N asked, her mind wandering as she strolled over by the old tractor. “There must be. It’s not a place you can get to by a boat or a train. It’s far, far away. Behind the moon, beyond the rain.”

She then remembered a song Aunt Em would sing to her whenever she felt sad and began to sing.

“Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high

There’s a land that I’ve heard of

Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue

And the dreams that you’ve dared to dream

Really do come true

Someday I’ll wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Where troubles melt like lemon drops

Away above the chimney tops

That’s where you’ll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why then, of why can’t I?”

Toto jumped up on the seat of the tractor, and Y/N snuggled him for a second before listening to a few birds chirp. She looked up and gazed up some rays of sun pouring into a tear in the clouds, lighting up the gloominess of the farm just a little bit, almost giving a sense of hope.

Y/N then finished her song.

“If happy little blue birds fly beyond the rainbow,

Why oh why can’t I?”

“That dog is a menace to the community!” Mrs. Gulch barked. “I’m taking him to the sheriff to have him destroyed.”

The forty-something year old woman sat up straight in the chair across from Em. Her raven locks were pulled into a tight bun, and her hat was perched on top of her head as if it would fly off at any given moment. Mrs. Gulch had dressed in her Sunday best, but she wasn’t here for a church sermon. She had come for something sinister.

Her words were like punch in the stomach to Y/N. “D-Destroyed? Toto?”

Mrs. Gulch gave a slight nod.

“Oh no, you can’t,” Y/N begged. “You mustn’t! Auntie Em, Uncle Henry, you won’t let her take him, will you?”

Uncle Henry gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course we won’t, dear,” he promised. “Will we, Em?”

Y/N turned to her aunt, who now had a conflicted look on her face.

“Please, Auntie Em,” she begged. “Toto didn’t mean to. He didn’t know he was doing anything wrong. I’m the one who should be punished. I let him go in her garden. You can send me to bed without dinner.”

“If you don’t hand over that beast,” Mrs. Gulch threatened. “I’ll bring a damage suit that’ll take your whole farm. There’s a law protecting folks against dogs that bite.”

“How about if she keeps him tied up?” Em suggested. “He’s really gentle, with gentle people, that is.”

Mrs. Gulch was taken aback at her neighbor’s words. “Well, “ she huffed, “that’s for the sheriff to decide.” –she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper- “Here’s his orders allowing me to take him, unless you want to go against the law.”

Auntie Em took the sheet and read it, and Uncle Henry came over to take a look at the order as well.

“We can’t go against the law, Y/N,” Em shook her head as her voice began to shake. “I’m afraid poor Toto had to go.”

“Now you’re seeing reason,” Mrs. Gulch scoffed as she opened her basket. “Here’s what I’m taking him in, so he can’t attack me again. Just put the little rat into the basket.”

This triggered Y/N’s anger even more. “NO, I WON’T LET YOU TAKE HIM!!!” she screamed as she forcefully pushed the basket away. “YOU GO AWAY, OR I’LL BITE YOU MYSELF!”

“Y/N!” Em snapped.

Y/N didn’t take her angry eyes off of their grouchy neighbor. She could feel her tears start to push through.

“You wicked old witch!” she spat as her tears started to fall. “Uncle Henry, Auntie Em, don’t let her take Toto.”

Mrs. Gulch tried to grab Toto out of Y/N’s arms, but she fought against her.

“Henry, just put Toto in the basket,” Em sighed as she massaged one of her temples.

As much as Y/N wanted to resist, she wouldn’t fight her beloved uncle. He was a gentle man, not a fighter. Unless matters got too out of hand, then he would take the appropriate action to settle a dispute. This being why Y/N froze the moment he gently pulled Toto from her arms. The same man who had given her a best friend when she was fourteen was now the one taking him away from her. Sorrow even began to grow on her uncle’s face.

The water works flowed as she watched her best friend being put into the wooden basket. Toto even started to whine a little. Y/N’s heart felt heavy, her head dizzy, and she felt sick. Her feet ran her to her bedroom. She slammed the door and threw herself on the floor and sobbed. She was heartbroken.

For about ten minutes, Y/N cried on the floor, not caring who heard. Toto. Her sweet little dog. Y/N had only tried to let Toto run around to exercise, but why the old grouch’s garden of all places, she’ll never figure it out.

Once she was calm, she sat up and leaned against her bed, beginning to accept that Toto was gone for good.

Two little barks interrupted her thoughts. She looked up and Toto jumped through her open window and onto her bed. He licked her face as if to say, “I’m never leaving you.”

“Toto!” she cried before embracing her pet. “Oh my gosh! You came back!”

Y/N held Toto for about a minute before she realized, “They’ll probably be looking for you once they discover you’re gone.”

Although he was only a dog, Y/N always knew he was smarter than the average canine. If he somehow escaped Mrs. Gulch’s basket, he could possibly escape bigger situations than that.

However, Y/N wasn’t about to let anyone take Toto away from her again. She pulled back, looked at Toto in the eye, and said, “We’ve got to run away.”

As soon as she had packed all that she would need and could carry such as some clothes, shoes, and some of her own money stash from under her bed, she and Toto escaped out of her bedroom window. The two of them took the back roads and headed south. Y/N didn’t know where she was going, but she wanted to be as far away from all of her troubles as much as possible.

After a few minutes of walking, Y/N and Toto came across a large caravan painted in blue with gold and red lettering declaring, “Professor Lee! Acclaimed by the Crowned Heads of Asia.” The closer Y/N got, she could hear a man’s voice singing random tunes.

The owner of the voice then rounded the corner of the caravan and immediately spotted Y/N. He was fairly tall, young man of Asian decent and wore a dark green suit and chocolate brown dress shoes.

“Well, a house guest,” he greeted her with a smile before crossing over to sit by a fire pit that Y/N just now noticed was burning. “Now, may I ask who you are? No, don’t tell me. Let’s see.” –He scanned Y/N up and down- “You’re…going on a visit.”

Y/N shook her head.

“No, that’s not it.” The professor thought again. “You’re traveling in disguise. Nope, wait, you’re running away.”

“How did you guess?” Y/N asked with a smile.

“Professor Lee Sangyeon never guesses,” he claimed with a chuckle. “He knows. Now, why are you running away? No, don’t tell me. Uh…They don’t understand you, or appreciate you. You want to see the world. Cities, oceans, mountains, everything.”

Y/N nearly jumped out of her shoes. “It’s like you could read what was in my head! Oh, please, professor, could Toto and I join you and see all of the crowned heads of Asia?”

“You know any?” Professor Lee asked, then realized what she was talking about. “Oh! Well, I don’t do anything without consulting my crystal first. How about we head inside and I’ll show you?”

Sangyeon guided Y/N to the entrance of his caravan, allowing her to step in first. The inside of the caravan was full of all sorts of treasures. A skull sat on top of the doorframe, colorful paper lanterns lined the ceiling, small jade figurines of various gods lined the walls, and suede furniture sat in the center of all of his collection of treasures. Wax candles sat on each side of the chairs. The furniture surrounded a small wooden table with the most sparkling crystal sphere Y/N had ever seen perched in its holder.

“Have a seat,” Sangyeon motioned towards one of the chairs. When she did so, he began lighting each candle. “This is the same magic crystal used by the priests of Isis and Osiris in the days of the Pharaohs of Egypt in which Cleopatra saw the approach of Julius Caesar and Mark Antony and so on and so forth.”

Y/N watched in awe as the professor prepped the room for his reading. She knew it was probably all an act for a circus somewhere, but she still wanted to see what he was doing.

“Now, you’d better close your eyes, my dear,” the professor instructed. “Just for a moment to be better in tune with the infinite.”

With a nod, she did as she was told. What she didn’t realize was Professor Lee was looking through her basket to find some sort of picture of her and her family to better set up his act. He found one of her, Uncle Henry, and Aunt Em taken in front of the farm the previous summer.

“We can’t do these things without reaching out into the unknown,” he continued before putting the picture back in the basket. “Alright, you can open your eyes now, and we’ll gaze into the crystal.”

Y/N opened her eyes again and watched as the professor stared the crystal ball as if he were studying it very closely. She couldn’t see anything happening, but the act displayed in front of her was making her believe it was real.

“What’s this I see?” he asked to no one in particular, his eyes glued to the crystal. “A house with a picket fence, and a barn with a weathervane. And also, a running horse.”

“That’s our farm,” Y/N pointed out.

“And there’s a woman with graying hair at the temples, a striped dress, and she has a careworn face.”

“That’s Aunt Em.” Is he really seeing everything? She thought.

“Short for Emily?”

“That’s right. What’s she doing?”

Professor Lee’s face twisted into a confused expression. “I can’t quite see. Oh, she’s crying. Someone has hurt her. Someone has just about broken her heart.”

Y/N’s own heart was about to break just hearing this. Of course she was angry that Toto had to be taken away, but was running away the best option?

“Me?” she asked.

“Well, it’s someone she loves very much,” Professor Lee shrugged. “Someone she’s been very kind to and cared for in times of sickness.”

Y/N was getting anxious. “I had really bad pneumonia once. But she stayed right by me every minute. What’s she doing now?”

He had figured she was running away out of some sort of anger, and just from the picture he could tell she was close to her family. Y/N was the first young person to come to him in hopes of finding something better, however, he knew he should at least try to help them make amends with their families. Y/N was no different.

Seeing how upset Y/N was getting, Professor Lee had one last trick up his sleeve. Glancing at his crystal again, the professor’s face displayed a look of shock. “What’s this? She’s placing her hand on her heart, and dropping down on her bed.”

“No,” Y/N began to sob.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but the crystal’s gone dark.”

She couldn’t stay any longer. If her beloved aunt was having a heart attack or stroke, then she needed to go home and try to help her or call a doctor.

“You don’t think she could really be sick, do you?” Y/N suggested as she hastily stood from her chair. “Oh, I’ve got to go home right away!”

“What’s this? I thought you were going to travel with me.”

“Oh, no, I have to get to her right away. Come on, Toto.”

The dog immediately followed Y/N out of the caravan. Professor Lee also followed her out and waved good-bye to her.

“Good-bye, Professor,” Y/N called back to him. “And thank you!”

Professor Lee noticed the drastic change in the weather. What began as a sunny autumn day quickly turned into a mighty windstorm. A tornado was approaching, and he needed to get himself and his horse to the nearest shelter possible.

“Woah, there, boy!” he instructed his horse, Gold Foot, as he caught hold of his reigns. “Better get undercover. There’s a storm brewing up. Poor kid. I hope she gets home alright.”

Back at the farm, chickens were running around panicked, horses were neighing in fright, the cows didn’t seem to care, but the pigs squealed in terror. Kevin and Eric were busy getting the animals to safety as much as possible. Jacob had rushed home to join his wife and baby daughter in their tornado shelter. He helped as much as he could, but Em and Henry told him to go home and protect his family. However, it was still chaos.

“Hurry up and get them horses loose!” Kevin shouted orders to Eric over the loud and wailing winds. “Where’s Jacob?!”

“He has a wife and child to protect!” the younger farmhand reminded him. “So he’s gone into shelter with them!”

Kevin looked up at the sky as Eric went to release the horses from the barn. No longer was it just a partly cloudy day. The sky was covered in a thick black, blanket as a cylinder of wind and dust violently pirouetted though neighboring fields.

“It’s a twister! A twister!” Kevin cried.

Em and Henry gathered everything they needed for the shelter such as food, lanterns, and a few blankets, and Em had gone to get Y/N. To her horror, her niece was missing. She thought Y/N had been in her room, but it was empty. Panicked, she ran around the house and farm, calling out for her every few seconds.

“Y/N! Y/N!” she screamed her nieces name over the tornado.

“Come on, everybody!” Henry rounded everyone up. “In the storm cellar!”

“Help me, Henry! Y/N’s somewhere out in the storm!”

“We can’t look for her now! We have to get in the cellar!”

Em was terrified she wouldn’t see her precious niece again. All she had to do was hope she would be okay once everything calmed.

The wind used all of its might to knock Y/N down as she and Toto made their way back to the farm. The dog began to bark, not wanting to brave it by standing on his own two feet. Y/N was quick to scoop him up and carry him back; leaning forward as she marched to she wouldn’t be knocked over.

“Auntie Em!” she called out. No answer.

The gate was jammed as she fought it open, breaking the lock as she did so. She had some leverage as the house blocked some of the winds force, but Y/N still had to fight her way in. She got the screen door open, but it immediately broke off and was carried off into the storm. However, Y/N was able to get herself and Toto into the house and shut the main door.

“Auntie Em! Uncle Henry!” she called again.

When she went out back to try to open the shelter, it was too late. It was closed and locked. She kicked and screamed for her relatives, but there was no chance of her getting in. She would have to brave the storm alone with her dog and hope for survival.

Y/N retreated to her bedroom, told Toto to hide, and she set her basket down.

“Auntie Em!” she called again just before her bedroom window broke off and knocked her in the back of her head. The impact knocked her out, the darkness consuming her as she fell.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she had no idea of how much time had passed. Toto was licking her face as to wake her up, and Y/N pet his furry head. However, the house was…moving? The wind was blowing, but it wasn’t violent. It was more like a windy day right before it rains. Wind howled much louder until a rooster’s crow broke the silence.

Looking out the window, Y/N couldn’t see anything but a dark gray wall. However, she spotted what she guessed was the roof of the farm’s chicken coop with the rooster standing on top of it. A cow floated around in the air, mooing without a care in the world. A wooden rocking chair floated up, and Old Mrs. Ahn was sitting in it and knitting a quilt. She looked up and waved hello. Confused, Y/N waved back before the old woman floated away again. Two fishermen in a rowboat were next to be in Y/N’s line of sight. They made eye contact with her, tipped their hats, and she waved.

Out of curiosity, Y/N looked down and nearly lost her balance.

“We must be up inside the cyclone!” she shouted over the wind so Toto could hear her.

When she looked back, she saw a familiar face riding her bicycle in the tornado.

“Oh!” Y/N cried out in disgust. “Mrs. Gulch!”

Then, without warning, the grouchy neighbor morphed into something horrible. She now had an ugly, green face, and was dressed in all black with a pointed hat. A large broom was now her choice of transportation. It was a witch. Frightened by the sight, Y/N retreated back to her bed and covered her eyes as the witch released an ear-piercing cackle.

The wind began to pick up. Toto jumped into Y/N’s arms and started to whimper. The house spun more times than Y/N could count. She screamed out of fright and sobbed as she didn’t know what was happening. Was she about to go out like this? She began to regret everything she had done earlier that day from the time she allowed her dog to run around in the neighbor’s garden to running away.

Then, everything stopped. The house seemed to land, and everything went silent. Her room was a mess, but that could be taken care of later. All Y/N cared about was if her family was okay. Some thick trees blocked her outdoor view, so she couldn’t see what was going on outside. She figured the house landed in the nearby woods.

“Are you okay Toto?” Y/N asked her dog. He licked her chin as if to reassure her that he was fine. She then picked him up, gathered her still intact basket, and exited her room.

The house was dark, but Y/N could make out the outlines of the furniture with the help of some light peaking through the curtains. Everything was either broken or knocked over, and a few family pictures were smashed. The important thing was that Y/N was alive, and so was Toto.

Holding Toto close to her, Y/N carefully opened her front door and almost fainted. On the other side of her front door was not her farm, but rather a new world on display in front of her eyes. Colorful plants and flowers surrounded a small duck pond and a stream leading away from it and under a bridge. Next to it was a spiral imprinted in the ground made from yellow and red bricks. In the surrounding area, small, white cylindrical houses with straw and burlap roofs populated around the pound and brick paths, but there seemed to be no one in sight. The sky above was the most gorgeous shade of blue Y/N had ever seen. It was as if she had jumped into a storybook.

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Y/N said to her dog as she wandered around. “We must be over the rainbow.”

After setting Toto down, Y/N glanced up at the sky and noticed a spherical object floating towards her. Was it a bubble? It looked like one, but it wasn’t your average bubble. As it got closer, Y/N noticed it was changing colors and getting bigger. Stepping out of the way, the bubble, now the size of a horse, turned a bright shade of pink as it landed on the brick path.

The bubble dissolved away, revealing a beautiful woman with velvet red, shoulder-length hair and an extravagant silver crown resting on top of it. She was dressed in a sparkling periwinkle dress with glittering butterflies decorating various spots. The skirt part of her gown was almost as wide as a dinner table towards the bottom, and her sleeves were puffed as large as egg crates. In her hand, she carried a long wand with a diamond star at the top.

“Now, I definitely know we’re not in Kansas.” Y/N was speechless. It was the first sign of human life, and all she witnessed was a woman with a wand fly in inside a bubble.

The woman makes eye contact with Y/N and approaches her, her skirt flowing behind her.

“Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?” she asked.

Y/N was taken aback by her question.

“Me?” she asked, and the woman nodded. “I’m not a witch at all. My name is Y/N, and I’m from Kansas.”

“Oh,” the woman replied, and then motioned towards Toto. “Well, is that the witch?”

Y/N just giggled. “Toto’s my dog.”

“Well, I’m a little muddled. I was informed by the munchkins that a new witch has just dropped a house on the Wicked Witch of the East.” She turned towards the slightly damaged house. “There’s the house, and here you are,” –she pointed towards a pair of dark burgundy legs with opalescent shoes on the feet sticking out from underneath the house- “and that’s all that’s left of the Wicked Witch of the East.”

Y/N was in shock. She had accidentally killed someone. She felt bad, but from the tone of the woman’s voice it sounded like it was a good thing.

“And so,” she continued, “what the munchkins what to know is, are you a good witch or a bad witch?”

“But I’ve already told you I’m not a witch at all,” Y/N reassured. “Witches are old and ugly.” A plethora of giggles sounded from behind her. “What was that?”

The woman chuckled. “The munchkins. They are laughing because I am a witch. I am Chungha, Witch of the North.”

Y/N eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You are? My apologies if I’ve offended you, but I’ve never heard of a beautiful witch before.”

“Only bad witches are ugly. The munchkins are happy because you have freed them form the Wicked Witch of the East.”

“Well, if you don’t me asking, what are munchkins?” The laughter sounded again.

“They’re the little people who live here in Muchkinland, and you are their national heroine, my dear. It’s alright, now.” Her attention was on someone else. “You can all come out and thank her. Come out, come out! Wherever you are, and meet the young lady who fell from a star.”

From everywhere in the greenery and behind the small houses, small people no taller than about three feet high began to come into the light of the circle. Their clothing was just as bright as the flowers. The men wore colors of blues, greens, and reds, while the woman wore lighter shades of greens and blues with purples and pinks. Most of them wore hats, their curls sticking out from underneath, and a few of the women’s’ bonnets were decorated with various kinds of flowers such as roses, marigolds, and daisies.

“She fell from the from the sky,” Chungha sang, “she fell very far, and Kansas she says is the name of the star.”

“Kansas she says is the name of the star,” the munchkins repeated as more of them began to appear and surround the new faces in town.

“She brings you good news, or haven’t you heard? When she fell out of Kansas a miracle occurred.”

Y/N was lead to the center of the town, and she began her story. “It really was no miracle. What happened was just this: this wind began to switch, the house to pitch, and suddenly the hinges started to unhitch. Just then the witch, to satisfy and itch, went flying on her broomstick, thumbing for a hitch.”

“And oh, what happened then was rich,” a man in a tall gray hat hopped out.

A few of the woman munchkins joined in on finishing the story. “The house began to pitch, the kitchen took a slitch. It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch, which was not a healthy situation for the Wicked Witch, who began to twitch and was reduced to just a stitch of what was once the Wicked Witch.”

The citizens of Munchkinland performed a small celebratory dance in their freedom from the witch’s clutches, and a horse drawn carriage pulled up. Y/N was guided into it before two citizens approached her with some candy a bouquet of yellow and blue roses.

“We thank you very sweetly,” the first one said with a smile, “for doing it so neatly.”

“You’ve killed her so completely,” the second one said, “thank we thank you very sweetly.”

“Let the joyous news be spread,” Chungha declared, “the Wicked old Witch at last is dead!”

As the carriage began to move, the munchkins cheered wildly and chanted their victory:

“Ding dong, the Witch is dead

Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!

Ding dong, the Wicked Witch is dead

Wake up, you sleepyhead

Rub your eyes, get out of bed

Wake up, the Wicked Witch is dead

She’s gone where the goblins go

Below, below, below

Yo ho! Let’s open up and sing

And ring the bells out

Ding dong, the merry-o

Sing it high

Sing it low

Let them know the Wicked Witch is dead.”

The carriage stopped in front of a larger homestead, where three trumpeters came out and blew a fanfare as a large-bellied munchkin in a bright blue suit approached Y/N with seven council like people followed behind him.

“As mayor of the munchkin city,” he announced, “in the county of the land of Oz, I welcome you most regally.”

“But we’ve got to verify it regally,” and officially stepped in. “To see…”

“To see.”

“If she…”

“Is morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably dead.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what was happening at first, but she realized that the council wanted proof that the witch was, in fact, dead. She hadn’t heard anyone scream in fear or seen a dead corpse try to squeeze itself out from under her house, so they must be in the clear.

A munchkin in dark purple robes and holding a scroll approached the council and gave his two cents. “As coroner, I must aver, I thoroughly examined her, and she’s not only merely dead, she’s really most sincerely dead.” He then unraveled the scroll, revealing a certificate of death.

“Then this is a day of independence,” the mayor stated happily, “for all the munchkins and their decendents. Let the joyous news be spread, the Wicked old Witch at last is dead!”

With another wild cheer, the citizens sang their chant in celebration. Y/N was then given thanks from three girls in pink tutus and three boys in colorful suits, both presenting her with candy and a song. Chungha then guided Y/N back to the square where the rest of the people continued their welcome.

Everything then came to halt, when a cloud of bright red smoke exploded from out of nowhere. Munchkins screamed in fright and began to either hide or drop down in fear, and Toto began to bark at who or whatever was unwelcome. Y/N was quick to pick up her dog, but he still growled in protecting her. As the smoke dissolved, the witch Y/N had seen earlier was revealed to be the uninvited guest to the party. Upon seeing her in person, she was more horrid in face as she wore all black clothing and held a broomstick.

“I-I thought you said s-she was dead,” Y/N whispered to Chungha, confused.

“That was her sister, the Wicked Witch of the East,” the Good Witch explained. “This is the Wicked Witch of the West, and she’s worse than the other one was.”

The ugly hag examined the two legs sticking out from underneath the house, and a look of pure wrath shadowed her green face.

“Who killed my sister?” she growled, her voice an unsatisfying pitch. “Who killed the Witch of the East? Was it you?”

“No,” Y/N answered immediately as the witch approached her. “No, I didn’t mean to kill anyone. I promise it was an accident.”

“Well, my little pretty, I can cause accidents, too!”

“Aren’t you forgetting the Opal Slippers?” Chungha asked, unfazed by the witch’s anger.

“The slippers. Yes!” An unsettling smile had appeared on her face as she began to go back to her dead sister’s feet. However, the shoes in question disappeared, and the legs and feet curled up and snaked underneath the house.

“They’re gone!” the witch cried before returning the pair. “The Opal Slippers. What have you done with them? Give them back to me or I’ll-“

“It’s too late,” Chunga stopped her. “There they are, and there they’ll stay.”

Y/N looked down to where the Good Witch was pointing to and realized the slippers were now on her feet, matching beautifully with her pink socks. When did they slip onto her feet? Not that she was complaining about having beautiful shoes on her feet instead of the plain red converse she wore, but the slippers didn’t belong to her.

“Give me back my slippers,” the Wicked Witch demanded. “I’m the only one that knows how to use them. They’re no use to you. Give them back to me. Give them back!”

“Keep a hold of them,” Chungha whispered to Y/N. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn’t want them so badly.”

“You stay out of this, Chungha, or I’ll break you, as well!”

Chungha just laughed and told her, “Rubbish! You have no power here. Be gone, before somebody drops a house on you, too.”

The witch glanced up at the sky before announcing her departure. “Very well. I’ll bide my time.” Her attention went back to Y/N. “And as for you, young lady, it’s true, I can’t attend to you here and now as I’d like, but just stay out of my way. I’ll get you, my pretty, and you’re little dog, too!” With a cackle, she dashed into the square and disappeared in a thunderous cloud of red smoke followed by a small explosion of fire.

“It’s all right,” Chungha reassured the munchkins. “She’s gone.”

“What just happened?” Y/N asked.

“I’m afraid you’ve made rather a bad enemy of the Wicked Witch of the West. The sooner you get out of Oz altogether, the safer you’ll sleep, my dear.”

“I’d give anything to get out of Oz,” Y/N sighed. “But which way is Kansas? I can’t go the way I came.”

As beautiful as the land was, Y/N just wanted to be back home with her family and friends and bring Toto back with her. She didn’t know if her Aunt was still alive, or even if everyone else was looking for her. It didn’t help that a wicked witch had basically threatened her life over a pair of magical shoes.

“No, that’s true,” Chungha agreed. “The only person who might know would be the great and wonderful Wizard of OZ himself.”

The munchkins immediately bowed at the mention of the man’s name.

“The Wizard of Oz? Is he good, or is he wicked?”

“Very good, but very mysterious. He lives in the Sapphire City, and that’s a long journey from here. Did you bring your broomstick with you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then, you’ll have to walk, I’m afraid.”

Thanks, Captain Obvious, Y/N thought.

“The munchkins will see you safely to the border of Munchkinland,” Chungha reassured her. “And remember, never let those slippers off your feet for a moment, or you will be at the mercy of the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“But how do I start for the Sapphire City?” Y/N asked.

“It’s always best to start at the beginning, and all you do is follow the yellow brick road.”

Tagging: @barsformars @barnesbabee @daybreakx @juyeonzz @cosmixity @philosopher-of-fandoms

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