#even though he’s the one character who winds up having a biological child
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Dean and Cas should have had their own nephilim… I think it could kill Chuck instantly and change the world for the better….
#fr though a deancas nephilim would somehow be even worse for Chuck regardless of power scaling… the sheer defiance#genuinely I think Chuck saw the signs and saw it as a threat to his existence and had to keep them from getting pregnant lmao#it’s crazy how bad the narrative wants them to have a baby like I kinda thought abo just came from the ether way back in middle school#even just independently..#but as the seasons go on they keep putting babies in Dean’s arms and Cas is hand picked by fetus Jack lol….#also only crazier because don’t get me wrong Sam is a vital part of Jack’s parentage but they are not putting babies in his arms..#even though he’s the one character who winds up having a biological child#destiel#deancas#supernatural
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I wholeheartedly do not understand the take of "Luke is Padmés child"/"Leia is Anakins child". I understand it's very popular within the fandom, and it's a way for fans to create a connection between characters— but I just don't see it.
Long-winded rant coming. Hope it makes sense. No spoilers for recent Star Wars media, but I do briefly talk about the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, the books (Legends and Canon), and the comics.
The biggest argument that I have seen for both sides is temperament. "Leia has Anakins temper" "Luke has Padmés calm". But really, that's not wholly accurate. Every time that we see Leia becoming angry, it's righteous anger. She's been taken captive. Her planet has been threatened. Her planet has been destroyed.
Now compare that to Anakin. He's mad Padmé won't return his advances. He's mad the council doesn't trust him— for good reason, but we'll touch on that later in a different post.
A major difference that sits between Leia and Anakin (aside from the obvious), is timing. Leia knows when the time for sarcastic quips is. She knows when the time for angry comments is. And she also knows when to shut it down. If you want to compare her to anyone out of the family, it should be to Padmé; but I'll do you one better. Leia's temperament is all Bail and Breha Organa.
It's plenty sweet to want to connect the twins to the mother they lost, but truthfully, they don't get their personality traits from her. If Leia were to take after anyone, it would be the parents who raised her. The ones who brought her up to be good and kind and care about the people of Alderaan. I went off on a tangent: Leia does not have Anakins temper. Not even close.
Compare her moments of righteous anger to his outburst in the council chambers. Mace Windu— quite fairly, in my opinion— tells Anakin to sit down when his adult self starts throwing a temper tantrum for not becoming a barely-out-of-teens Jedi Master. He's entitled. He thinks he deserves the position, regardless of meeting very few qualifications. I'll likely make another post about that as well. The main point of this paragraph being; for Leia to share Anakins anger, it would need to come from a place of entitlement. It does not.
Now onto Luke. I see people attempting to mould him into Padmé for a multitude of reasons. Some want to, as I said, connect the twins to their mother in a way that is easy. They want a parallel to Padmé and Anakin that can be found in their children. Others, I'm sure, just want to make Luke "softer" (though Padmé is far from soft; some people just lack media comprehension). Luke is not some patron saint of patience. He CAN be patient, yes; but it is not his defining character trait. Throughout the movies, books, and comics, Luke has had outbursts. He's not some holier than thou figure who never gets angry. He just works to overcome that anger. Maybe that is a bit reminiscent of Padmé; but do you know who it reminds me of?
Beru Lars.
The same way his stubborn determination (look at him, look at me in my eyes, and tell me he's not stubborn) reminds me of both Owen and Beru.
There's no crime in comparing the twins to their biological parents. I understand the want. I love parallels in media as much as anyone else. I only wish that Star Wars fans would quit labeling Leia as "just Anakin's daughter" because she got a little angry That One Time when That One Thing happened, and quit labeling Luke as " just Padmé's son" because he's a Cool and Collected Jedi. There is so much more to their characters than just their biological parentage. I am begging people to read more into the characters who actually raised them and gave them love for nineteen years of their lives.
Long-winded and incomprehensible rant over <3 ty for reading.
#luke skywalker#leia organa#padme amidala#anakin skywalker#star wars#meta#ft: bail and breha organa#ft: owen and beru lars
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Sibling headcanons 1
Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.
Naganohara Yoimiya
✧ Being Yoimiya's little sibling means being open to the world and people. Your older sister has always encouraged you to meet the kids in the neighbourhood. It is also related to the fact that she also divided her attention on them and not focused it only on you. You're jealous of it, and she can't always see it right away. But when she does find out, she always apologizes.
✧ You make fireworks together. You're pretty good at it now but when you were little she took you with her to the workshop and you almost set her hair on fire. She loves telling this story to others. You must have heard it dozens of times, and each time you kick her in the ankle so that she stops embarrassing you in front of new people you meet.
✧ Together you help each other with grandpa. You love him but it can be tiring. Especially since many things have to be explained to him slowly and very loudly.
✧ Neither of you can cook. You prefer to eat something quick in the city. You are always busy, everywhere and everyone knows you.
Xingqiu
✧ If there's one thing you can be sure of, it's that Xingqiu will get you into reading books. He'll push you on novels and either you become a reader or you die.
✧ As the third child in the family you lead a pretty comfortable life. One could even say worthy of a royalty. Especially since you're not much into your father's merchant guild business. Immersing yourself in the fantastic adventures of fictional characters, you feel that you are alive.
✧ In the past, your brother pretended to be adventurers and pirates. You used to play the princesses he had to save. Mostly because you agreed to play as long as you sat in one place and could read.
✧ You help him proofread "Legend of the Sword" for which he is extremely grateful. He promised to bring you an autograph from Inazuma, Calx, his illustrator, of whom you are a big fan.
Keqing
✧ As Keqing's older sibling, you don't have it easy. Actually, your relationship is a long, winding and bumpy road. And it doesn't look like it's going to fully recover.
✧ Your sister is always busy. And yet she is never satisfied with her achievements. Even though you tell her to rest, she doesn't change her mind. Therefore, it would be difficult for you to spend more time together.
✧ You mainly see each other at work, which is also a source of disagreement between you. You've always felt inferior. Keqing holds a high position and your family has always compared her to you. She tried to straighten it out a couple of times but it didn't work. You understand it's not her fault but it doesn't help to look at her any more favorably.
✧ The last time you saw each other was shopping during the Lantern Right festival. The fact that she found time for you then was strange to say the least. Apparently, a friend made her realize that she should take a break. You didn't comment that she listened to a stranger and she never listened to your advice. Together you chose a beautiful dress for her. You've been seeing each other a lot more since then but that doesn't mean the problems have gone away.
Sayu
✧ Technically, you're not Sayu's biological sibling. But that doesn't mean you don't act like you are. All members of the Shuumatsuban recognize this as true.
✧ You literally take some errands for her so she can get some sleep. She loves you for it. If she gets a pillow or a blanket as a gift, you can be sure that she will lazily hug you to thank you.
✧ You are one of the few people who are allowed to pat her on the head. Just not too often, after all, she wants to grow taller, and everyone knows that slows down growing up.
✧ You took her measure on a forest tree once. Every now and then she stands there and you mark her height again.
✧ Despite her laziness, you can be sure that in important situations she will not fail. Her master is gone but she still has you. She's not going to lose her older sibling. There's no way she's letting anything happen to you. The little ninja will immediately go to save you and always succeed.
#headcanons#yoimiya#sayu#keqing#xinqiu#x reader#over teyvat#genshin impact#siblings#genshin impact x reader
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You ever get to the point in a show, where you’re not sure if you’re accurately seeing what’s really there, or if there’s so much influence from fandoms and headcanons that it permanently skews your point of view?
I’m still watching Yellowstone, though at this point, I don’t know why. It’s edging towards Game of Thrones level of “There Are No Likeable Characters Why Am I Watching This?”
I used to really like Beth. Honestly, I did. But the more I rewatched it, and the more that the story progresses, the more I just want to slap the shit out of her, because she is a modern day Antigone, and it’s driving me up the wall.
I am more than willing to admit that a huge chunk of that is because I personally hate the narrative of the only love you can have is for your spouse, or your biological family. Like somehow sharing DNA or a bed is the only way you can ‘truly’ love someone. Because fuck that narrative. I don’t see my biological family except once every 20 years (a few, next time I see them, will be their funeral, because they’re twats). My godchildren have no biolgical ties to me whatsoever, and my parents treat them like their grandchildren. I love them as if they were my own. I have never, ever wanted biological kids but I want to adopt at some point, and I will go to jail for assault and battery if anyone ever tried to tell me the vile crap they spew on TV shows regarding adoption.
But at this point, I want Beth dead. I want her dead, and I don’t want a miracle walk away, because I draw the line at threatening children, especially toddlers. I don’t give a fuck what happened - this does not make the case of ‘Well, Beth would be nicer if she had her own kids’ because we’ve seen she absolutely would not. She’s undiagnosed schizophrenic psychopath at this point. The beginning of the season she’s telling her father he needs to move on from his wife, which is fucking hilarious given that she has sabotaged every attempt at a relationship her father has like some deranged Elektra complex with the justification that ‘they’re not my mother, and they can never compare’ (up to and including arranging to have one of the women thrown into prison for 10 years). She has a husband who loves unconditionally, and has point blank said he doesn’t want kids, he doesn’t even like dogs. She winds up with a teenager that comes to live at the ranch that desperately wants her to be his mom, she has a job whenever she needs one, her father loves her and still - she is a fucking horrible human being. The kid she ‘adopts’ - she and Rip throw him in the basement, and the first time she gets mad at him, she assaults him in a store, and another mother films her and threatens to call CPS (which she should’ve anyways) and the mother is shown as the nosy-busybody Karen who should mind her own business. Beth has the patience of a honey badger on meth. She has zero impulse control. None of which would magically be fixed if she had a biological child.
But that seems to be where the narrative is heading. Like oh, it’s because of her brother that she’s this upset/unhinged/self-loathing....if ONLY SHE COULD REPRODUCE, SHE WOULD BE FULFILLED. Are. You. Fucking. Kidding me. And everything in the fandom is how great Beth is, and how relatable she is, and then going through fanfic, the she’s written so completely out of character you would assume that it was a mis-labelled AU, and it makes me wonder if we’re watching the same show. If the character they’re writing is what they identify with, they’re not the same person, and the more I watch the show trying to see what they see, the more I know we’re not watching the same thing.
At this point, if Jamie doesn’t eventually snap and kill her or at least hit her with the car, I will be amazed.
#yellowstone tv#yellowstone complaint#I am not a fan of Beth Dutton#threatening children is where I draw the line#I don't care what happened to you#jamie dutton#This is my rant#I apologize to people who are here for other reasons#but I'm mad#and if you can't mouth off into the void of social media where can you
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well SHIT! my dad's gonna be PISSED!
but he'll bail me out anyways! anything to stay out of the headlines!
INTRODUCING milan bechtel an original character who is not based in any fandom. he is played by morgan davies.
sebastian vincent bechtel iii milan bechtel is a twenty-two year old college student, who is studying business. his real passion is art, specifically painting, but he's getting a business degree to appease his father who agreed to let him pursue art school if he at least got his initial education in something practical. he hates the thought of being in school for that long but if it means he can do what he wants in the future he'll put up with it.
he was originally born in milan, italy but he moved to go live with his father when he was a year old. he's the only child of sebastian bechtel ii and yana vasilyeva. he's cousins with the vasilyev brothers, but he doesn't meet them until they're all older. he's closest with aeron, since they're the closest in age, but all three of them are act how he wishes his actual older brothers would.
he did get his nickname because of where he was born. it was another way his biological mother made his connection to his father known, because his father – who's a well-known businessman, with an incredibly successful empire – named his other sons in a similar manner. his other sons, milan's older brothers, are all named after important places in their parents' relationship. so, when his mother decided to call him milan as a nickname, it was supposed to be a reminder to his father and his actual wife, of the affair he had that milan came from.
milan is the byproduct of a short lived affair between two of the worst people you've ever met. but he's one of the best people you could ever hope to meet.
because he was an unplanned and unwanted child – all three of his brothers were already grown and out of the house by the time he was born – his father wanted very little to do with him, even though he went through a whole mess of legal proceedings so he could have sole custody of milan and his biological mother would have nothing to do with him. (years later milan would spiral and wind up sleeping on his cousin's couch after finding out the only reason his mother even had him was so she could essentially blackmail his father into giving her whatever she wanted. or else she'd ruin the perfect image of a family he sold the tabloids.) he made sure milan had nannies to basically raise him and keep him out of the way, unless he was needed for a photo shoot that required the whole family to pretend to be as perfect as his father wished. there were times he was essentially a set piece in his father's world. this continues into his adult years and it's part of the reason he acts out so much. he wants to feel wanted.
the only person in his life, during his childhood at least, that really cared about him was father's wife, his real mom. when milan came into her life she didn't realise she wanted another child until she saw him for the first time. he made it easier to accept her husband's affair and the narrative he was spinning about them somehow having a miracle baby so late in their lives. she adored her baby and if it wasn't for her husband, who tried to encourage the rest of his family to ignore milan like he did, than she would've doted on him constantly. it was no real secret that he was her favourite (and he still is), her other sons were mostly indifferent to it, they were all fairly detached from their family.
despite how much his mom loves him, milan isn't entirely aware of it. because she wasn't allowed to constantly be open with her affection as she'd like and her opportunities to act like his mother were limited – and became even more infrequent as he got older – he assumes she doesn't care about him. he doesn't remember the days where she'd steal him away from his nanny and take him to work with her, showing him all of the things on her set and proudly showing him off to all of her staff. he doesn't remember when she'd sneak in to see him at night and read him a story before bed or how she'd run her fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, staying beside him long after he's fallen asleep just to be with him and make sure he's okay. she's the person he's most desperate to get attention from because he's scared she hates him since he's not her son, not really.
growing up how he did has lead milan to feel invisible. so he acts out. he graffitis buildings his father owns and goes on joyrides in cars he doesn't own and parties as often as possible. he's been arrested multiple times for various offenses but his criminal record is clean; it would ruin the wholesome family image that his father has spent years crafting if people found out how troubled his youngest son is. so he doesn't care what milan does, or who he's friends with, or what he takes, as long as the fallout isn't impossible to cover up. his father always cleaning up his messes has the exact opposite effect than milan wants — he wants to be seen, not swept under the rug. he wants to be more than just the youngest son, the pretty flirt that interviewers love to jokingly ask when he'll follow in his mother's footsteps and take up modeling. (he hates the way they look at him, like he's nothing more than a piece of meat.)
he's been getting better lately, especially since he's connected with his cousins. meeting them gave him a safety net and a reason to stay clean and safe. they convince him that he is a person, regardless of how invisible he feels.
and one day, a couple years in the future, they will be part of the reason he finally paints a self portrait in color; his art is so full of life and color unless he has to draw or paint himself, self portraits are always done in grays and blacks, they make him look half alive.
his mother will ask him for this first self portrait that shows the milan that she sees — she hangs it proudly on the walls of her new home, displaying it for everyone to see now that she doesn't have to hide how much she loves her youngest son.
additional link: pinterest.
template credit: @feelrush
psd credit: @jessource and garlogans on deviantart
#labyrinth // aesthetic#labyrinth // edit#labyrinth // muse intro#the house // lore drop#minotaur // milan bechtel#psd credit: garlogans on da#psd credit: jessource#template credit: feelrush
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My Hero Academia Next Gen Fankids Concepts I Decided to Do for Fun:
While I don't know what I'm getting myself into, I just couldn't help myself. The concept of mixing quirks based on genetics is just so interesting and I can't help but want to give it a try for myself. I don't plan to draw any of the fankids though. They're more concepts and idea exercises than me actually putting the effort into actualizing them as characters. I just want to have fun with quirk mixing. Regardless, I hope you have fun reading them who ever cares enough to or at least get a good laugh at my terrible attempts to make good Japanese names out of kanji when I have no experience in knowing the language whatsoever. XD
Also if you don't like a ship I chose, please be civil or just ignore me. You ship your ship and I'll ship mine. Now to start off with the totally least controversial ship in the MHA fandom! Katsuki Bakugo x Ochako Uraraka: Zuyoboru Bakugo (爆豪 手伸):
First born son of Katsuki and Ochako. He has light brown hair, (this hex code #bb9064 I plan to be giving more hex codes to help paint a picture), brown eyes that are shaped like Bakugo's (#a05334) (though they normally look closed like Ochako's mom, only really opening when he's in serious mode), pink cheeks, and skin color that's fusion of both parent's skin tone (#f7d5bd). He by all means looks like normal kid, to the point he almost thought he was quirkless. That is until he accidentally bit his tongue and swallowed his own blood and in his vision multiple red threads that only he can see, varying in opacity.
Hero Name: Crimson Fate Quirk: Destiny's Thread. When taking a sip of someone's blood, Zuyoboru is able to see the invisible threads that connects people with each other. The more of a connection people have with one another, the more vibrant and visible the thread is. The drawbacks are it doesn't last long until the blood disappears from his system and he's out of luck if the blood he drank from didn't have a great connection with the person they are trying to find to begin with. Not to mention with how many connections people can have through out their lives, it's get a bit overwhelming trying to find the thread he's looking for. Lastly, blood really doesn't agree with his stomach so he barfs it up as soon as the threads leave his vision. (That's right, I fused Himiko Toga's and Edgeshot's quirk for this kid like a mad woman XD! I don't even know if it's biologically possible and it more than likely isn't. It's anime though and I need the drama! I didn't use the Shin kanji for nothing after all lol.) Ryochi Bakugo (爆豪 凌地): Second born son of Ochako and Katsuki. He has brown spiky hair (#894727), Katsuki's eyes (#c1423f), and Katsuki's skin (#f5d1b4). Hero Name: Blitzaster
Quirk: Natural Disasters. Ryochi has the ability to control the tides with gravitational pull to control the size of waves. He can also use the explosion aspect of his quirk to cause earthquakes, bomb, cyclones, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, and avalanches. Though, he can only cause earthquakes or other natural disasters when he is able to touch close to the place the earth is weakest with his hand. Another aspect of his quirk is that he's an extremely fast runner, so fast he lifts off the ground and is basically a meteor (think of something similar to fire boost from the Sonic Rush games but more in the air). The only issue with that is, he doesn't really have anyway to stop without crashing into something. So if nobody is able to stop him before that happens, he's usually knocks himself out from the force of his landing. (I'm a little lost trying to figure how to make a natural disaster quirk work while it still fits the concept of mixing gravity and explosions. I'm mostly trying to avoid anything that involves wind. Though feel free to suggest what to do to make this quirk work.) Ayase Bakugo (爆豪 花星):
Daughter and last child of Katsuki and Ochako. She has Katsuki's hair color (#ecdbba), Ochako's eyes (#a05334), Ochako's skin (f9d8c5), and pink freckles (similar to Ochako's pink circles but smaller and a cluster like little, pink stars but dot shaped). Like her mother, Ayase also has the little bumps on her fingers to activated and deactivate her quirk. Hero Name: Novalty Quirk: Shooting Star. Ayase can create stars at any size (as long as it's within her limit) that orbit around her head until she presses all her fingers together. Once she does that, the stars fly at rapid speeds at her target and explode on impact. The bigger the star, the more power the explosion. She has the potential to form two stars into a supernova, however it's risky because she either get a neutron star or a black hole after dealing a powerful blow with the supernova. However, the drawback of using such a power for her is that if she creates too many stars or ones that are too big for her to handle she becomes light headed and faints. (I'm debating whether if I should give her a power similar to the boost power I gave Ryochi or not. I don't want it to accidentally give the kids two quirks when I just want it to be part of just one quirk.) Wow... I didn't expect for this post to be as long as it was. So I guess this MHA kid thing is coming in multiple parts because I have more to share that I don't want to do here. It's probably for the best that Kacchako gets it's own separate post while I do the rest in another one or two. XD Either way, I hope you enjoy reading this whoever you are. I don't really expect this to get much traction. I'm glad I had fun quirk experimenting regardless. Here's the ships I plan to do the fankid quirk experiments in the next post (or at least the ones I have atm, I might do more later, who knows). Todo/Momo Kami/Jirou Kiri/Mina Hanta/Tsuyu Miru/Hawks (Definitely au for this one since he doesn't have his quirk anymore. Not unless even though the quirk was taken away the genes for the wings quirk is still there? I just want a skvader hero is that too much to ask!? XD) (I tried to put slashes in the ship names in hopes that I don't get people's hopes for nothing when they only see Kacchako in this post) Part 2
#MHA spoilers#My Hero Academia#spoilers#Headcanon#Next gen#Katsuki Bakugo#Ochako Uraraka#Kacchako#Fankids#I just really wanted to experiment with quirk ideas#What's the point of quirks if you can't experiment with them through shipping!? XD#Bakuraka#Don't read if you haven't read the ending of the manga or the last of episode of season 8 isn't out.
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I'm tired of waiting for asks I'm answering a whole ask game here and now.
✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name? Faolan name comes from the fact the commonly accepted way to refer to the protagonist of Destiny is "Young Wolf". Faolan itself is a name, irish in origin, that means "Little Wolf". Her last name Ashford, is generally accepted to mean "Ford by the ash trees." A ford is a shallow place in a river that can be easily crossed. And ash trees represent, generally, a place between life and death, or represent death itself. I like this last name for her because it, to me at least, means crossing a barrier between life and death. This works very well for her, a character constantly caught between life and death, often acting as a bringer of one to allow the other. Her name before she was raised was Atticus. This is because I like the name. I have never read To Kill a Mockingbird.
🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range) Physically she's stuck at 22 forever </3. But she was rezzed about six years ago in the real world.
🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)? Our favorite boy Crow and her have something going on there, that's for sure <3
🍕 - What is their favorite food? She doesn't a lot of the time! She's too busy. But when she is forced to sit down and eat something, she's not picky. But she's particularly fond of rice in any form.
💼 - What do they do for a living? Well, you'd assume Guardian is a job in and off itself, right? NO. She makes most of her glimmer through Gambit and Crucible, as well as a far bit from gambling and illegal Sparrow racing.
🎹 - Do they have any hobbies? Sparrow Racing, that's about it.
🎯 -What do they do best? Faolan is a warrior at her heart, she always has been. Even when she was a child wandering the wastelands with Ulysses following the collapse. She fights like nothing else matters but ending the opponent in front of her, but she's clever enough to know when to disengage.
🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do? She likes fighting, her friends, generally moving fast lil speed demon, winning, racing people, competition, and she likes books. She hates Vanguard meetings, sitting still, and days when there isn't wind.
❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories? Lighting the braziers at the Iron Temple.
✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories? Carrying Cayde's body back from the Prison of Elders.
🧊 - Is their current design the first one? Yes! She's had the same face since she was originally made. Thank you, Rudder. Though, her armor has changed quite a bit.
🍀 - What originally inspired the OC? She wasn't inspired by anything! I didn't make her! My brother did! I just added gaps between the events in Destiny to make a more compelling character to write about. And Rudder based her design off of my when he was making her for me, so I guess me?
🌂 - What genre do they belong in? Sci-fi. Obviously.
🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have? One biologically, but she's ostensibly claimed Ripley as her sister. So, effectively two.
🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like? They're super dead! But her various mentor figures, pretty solid. I don't think she would've survived Forsaken without Ikora as support.
🧠 - What do you like most about the OC? I like all the memories I have of her. Just because she's my character in Destiny. All the hours I messed around with Bella and Ben in the Reef, the misery and screaming in Spire, the late night Crucible sessions, the staying up till way past late. The friends Destiny, and by extension, Faolan, has helped me make. People that I wouldn't know if Rudder hadn't snatched my controller from my hands and made her for me on December 22nd, 2012.
✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC? I write about her at least once a week.
💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC? I can't. She can't die.
💀 - Does your OC have any phobias? Lygophobia, the fear of the dark.
🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival? Besides the obvious, the Witness, she has MAD beef with Marcus Ren because it's HIS FAULT she got banned from the SRL.
🎓 - How long have you had the OC? Oh jeez... six years?
🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC? Ah, about eleven years old!
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Raison d’être - The Nameless Girl 2
Author: Akira
Characters: Shu, Mika
Translator: Mika Enstars
"Yer right. What the, this is scary… Ya can see Grandfather steadily agein’, but she looks exactly the same."
[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]
Season: Winter
Location: Airport (Lobby)
Shu: Anyhow. There is something unnatural, regarding the fact the two diaries were written at two different time periods a while apart.
Regarding a common character these diaries share.
The one named “MADEMOISELLE”, of whom through the description I surmise to be the same character… does not appear to have aged throughout the work, or rather, the diary.
She, MADEMOISELLE, is an odd young lady who never grows old.
No, perhaps I should call her a girl? She is an eternal, nameless girl.
Mika: That means—
Umm, what does that mean? People are supposed t’age, aren’t they?
Shu: Hence why I called it “unnatural”. There is no Count of Saint Germain—Biologically speaking, there is no such thing as immortality.
Mika: Saint Jer… m… Who?
Shu: A tangent like that would be long-winded, or rather, insignificant.
Occult enthusiasts will never admit it, but it’s nothing but a scam—No, it’s been long proven to be a myth born from blasphemy and misunderstandings.
Well, Grandfather too was a fan of the occult, so it could be possible this diary is his way of making a grand joke, but…
The diaries were also carefully accompanied with hand-drawn sketches and antiquated photographs where the face of the person in question, “MADEMOISELLE”, can be seen.
Here, see for yourself. She appears exactly the same in both of the diaries.
Mika: Yer right. What the, this is scary… Ya can see Grandfather steadily agein’, but she looks exactly the same.
Does she not grow old fer real…?
Actually, maybe I’m biased ‘cause her name’s “MADEMOISELLE”, but… She kinda looks like Mado-nee, doesn’t she?
It’s like she’s a personification of Mado-nee, or rather, a slightly grown-up version of her.
Shu: I am curious about that too. Mademoiselle, the doll that my grandfather entrusted to me, may have something to do with this “MADEMOISELLE”.
Mika: Ah, right. Mado-nee’s different from the doll that ya made, isn’t she, Oshi-san?
Shu: Yes. She is an antique doll given to me by Grandfather. She is not one I made from scratch, meaning there is much mystery surrounding her.
There are many points of ambiguity about Mademoiselle, such as who created her, how she ended up in my grandfather’s possession, and so on.
I am a bit hopeful we will be able to find out more about that here.
Through the process of putting together my grandfather’s past and discovering more about this mysterious girl named “MADEMOISELLE”.
Mika: Just who is she, really… I’m startin’ to get a little scared.
Shu: Fufu, even you, who fears not even ghosts, can feel scared, huh?
I feel intrigued, more than anything else.
Although it is quite the vulgar sentiment, much like enjoying gossip articles. I feel guilty that Mr. Raffaello is leading me down this path.
The depictions in my grandfather’s diaries show a deep love he has for this girl named “MADEMOISELLE”.
My grandfather was always angry and would complain about everyone, except only this “MADEMOISELLE”. He was like a devout believer, or an innocent small child spoiled by his mother.
Although I cannot be sure exactly what kind of sentiment it was, my grandfather—absolutely loved her.
Whether it was platonic love, filial love as a family, or heterosexual love, it was never stated.
Although Mr. Raffaello claims it to be heterosexual love, that my grandfather and “MADEMOISELLE” united as man and woman. And himself being born, as a result.
Mika: Ooh, meanin’ who Grandfather had an affair with was—
Shu: Yes. That would be “MADEMOISELLE”. Things are coming together.
Though there is the possibility my grandfather wrote “Diary (Nameless)” while in his thirties, not as a youth—
And it sends a chill down my spine to think that an adult at that good age had feelings for a younger, child-like girl…
Mika: Hm~… But if “MADEMOISELLE”-san doesn’t age, or in other words, is immortal, isn’t it possible she’s even older than Grandfather?
Shu: This is a matter of appearances. I would be ashamed for the world to know that my own grandfather was afflicted with a lolita complex.
Mika: Nnah~, but don’tcha like small children too, Oshi-san?
Shu: I just admire what is beautiful and artistic.
And I imagine, or rather, expect that it is the same for my grandfather as well. Nothing to do with the graphic male-female relations that Mr. Raffaello speaks of—
I believe my grandfather simply loved beautiful things, just as I do, and just that—That is what I anticipate.
No, I am heading to Paris in order to prove that. To the city my grandfather lived during the time period recorded in these diaries.
Nowadays, you can look up anything on the internet instantly… However, nothing beats visiting the place yourself to investigate with your own eyes and fingertips, firsthand.
Mika: Even still… Even fer the case for “Diary (Nameless)” which was written closer to the present day…
Grandfather was in his thirties at the time… That’s still one, two, three, how many decades back again?
Is it even possible t’find traces of what had happened so so long ago even if ya look for it?
Shu: No need to fear about that, as I have something in mind.
And I also have you to help me look, Kagehira. You may be a fool, but your instincts are good.
As Valkyrie, we two will work together and win the Funeral Contest.
Mika: Nnah~, I dunno, I feel like this is kinda indirect.
Shu: Hmph. Do you think art can be borne from a blueprint created by lines drawn at random, without laying down any guesswork?
Mika: …Well, fair enough. Sometimes ya jus’ wanna take it slow and easy concentratin’ on a sole work of art.
Shu: Fufu. At ES, we often get idiotic orders such as “create a performance in a week!” from those who don’t know how much time art requires to be made.
When in truth, don’t you think it is best to sit back and enjoy the beauty and intrigue, just as one would enjoy a full-length novel?
[ ☆ ]
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The crown siblings
Did some more proper artwork on a few characters I'm working on for yet another story!
Putting a little info dump down here 👇
Captain Tarnished silver crown! Formerly known as the currently missing princess silver crown, Minor demigod of the sea.
Tarnished crown refuses to even eknowladge his biological family, he hates nobility, seeing them as heartless and uncaring for those below them, he wants nothing to do with nobility, at least he steals out of necessity for those the kingdom has abandoned rather than sitting high and mighty while hoarding everything. From Tarnished crown's view a greedy pirate and a greedy noble are the same, just one gets away without punishment. he sees his crew as his family, and does his best to provide for himself and them. Tarnished is very interested in boats and weaponry, having several books on the subjects of different boat types and the builds of different weapons, needless to say he's certainly collected quite an inturesting armory. Both himself and many of his crew are former slaves to slaver pirates, even if tarnished isn't exactly a good person he still tries to fight for those who had their lives stolen from them like his was, he has no mercy twords slavers.
copper, formerly known as prince copper crown, local musician.
Copper went missing the same night as tarnished, though unlike his brother, copper was able to escape before it was too late, unfortunately, copper became horribly lost trying to get back home, and was afflicted by a corrosion infection that left him mostly blind, and made his eyes very sensitive. Copper was adopted by a new family and now lives in a small woodland village, he is mostly known for his musical talent, primarily with wind pipes and the fiddle, often playing near the village center or the local taverns, both for the money and for the fun of it, he also enjoys collecting little trinkets that he likes the feel of, keeping his little item hoards on shelves in his room. Copper has no real contact with his old life, in all honesty he barely even remembers it.
Princess gold crown, also known as Goldie.
Princess Goldie stayed in the castle the night her siblings ran away, considering their father is a busy man, Goldie was mostly raised by the castle staff, primarily one of the royal jesters, jester hat, though unfortunately, jester hat went missing after a trip with the king to a neighboring kingdom, leading to a strained relationship with the other kingdom, and Goldie mostly being alone now that her siblings and primary parental figure were gone. Goldie is emotionally distant, trying her best to live up to expectations, after all, she's the only remaining child in the crown family, by now she's assumed those who went missing are dead. Secretly Goldie still loves "childish" things, dolls, fairytales, the idea of true love, but she doesn't allow herself to indulge in such things, she has a role to play and thinks she needs to leave childish things behind.
Little doodle dump! (Mostly tarnished)
little note, the bestial snake compass belongs to my friend, not me, but is part of the story as one of tarnished crown's two boyfriends, and the second mate of the ship.
Also that one doodle is sort of a "what if tarnished was never a pirate" au
there's some humanized designs of the pirate boyfriends there,
Also tarnished can controll water, but if he over does it he will start uncontrollably bleeding, so he doesn't do it much
#drawing#art#doodles#osc art#osc#Osc oc#object oc#object show art#object character#Crowns#The story is still very much a wip but ey I'm happy with the artwork ^-^
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I would like to here about the au
u and someone else asked so I shall deliver!!! I'll try to like, format it well. Disclaimer: this is an old ass au that I just today picked back up again and I'm still working on fleshing it out the parts I left out when I was a teenager
Also warnings: abuse, abduction, child death, trauma, and other stuff that'd happen in a lab that experiments on fucking kids
Also, bc this is the internet and ppl are dumb sometimes, no I do not take any enjoyment out of writing such settings. This was all expanded upon solely because I like when the character's different traumas and quirks can be linked back to specific causes.
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So there was this organization, called Agartha Labs, that was fascinated by Project Shadow, and were already like, morally fucked up. They lived in a pretty sizable underground lab (hence the name).
They wanted to exceed the results of that project, creating multiple super mobians, that would specialise in more specific skills/powers. Raising multiple kids from birth wasn't in anyone's favour though, so they picked up some kids (ages 4 and up) from orphanages and decided to get started on them. About a dozen.
All the poor kids died within a few months. The augmentation was too rushed, their new abilities pushed too far, and their bodies gave out. With that lesson, they would take 2-3 years, slowly and steadily working on the kids' biological modifications, to not overload them, whilst basically abusing the hell out of them, to make them perfect little pawns. They went as far as purposely traumatizing the kids with a specific fear, to just scare them into compliance, if they misbehave.
If the mods didn't kill the kid in those years, they moved on to the testing phase, which included gradual training of whatever changes they made to them.
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There's more details abt their shit practises, but let's just move onto Sonic!
Poor guy was kidnapped at 6 years old, along with ███ ████ ███████ ██████.
"Project no. 38: Mach 1 (mk. III)
There are some mobians, that naturally have a power of speed, but they can't exceed 120 km/h, and they can only do it for a few, maybe a dozen seconds, before they begin to badly overheat and become unable to catch up on breath. The projects goal was actually to have the subject reach 200 km/h, for those few seconds, and to be able to sustain ~100 km/h for a more considerable time. They just called it Mach 1 cuz it sounded good, and they didn't believe actual sound speed was possible for an organic being. He's called "mk. III", cuz they tried with 2 other kids, which are... dead.
Well, with Sonic they managed! But they saw more promise, as he didn't show any damage after reaching these 2 goals. So they pushed him further, but unbeknownst, they didn't have much time left.
When Sonic was around 10, the labs have been raided by police/military and the like, who FINALLY got wind of this hell. They arrested everyone, and tried to secure all the still living kids, but some of them just panicked and either ran off, or fought their way out of their hands. Sonic was one of the former, no surprise there. He ran as fast as he could, and swore to never look back.
He went on to become the hero we know, whilst burying his trauma so deep, he even forgot all about it. His childhood is a complete blank to him, but he's fine keeping it that way, even if some of the habits and mindsets he picked up back then still manifest to this day. Obviously he's also exceeded their expectations significantly.
Sadly, eventually he had to face his childhood again, in the worst circumstances possible.
#now that i wrote it its not that interesting#cuz i mostly focused on like the bg stuff cuz its the most figured out part#sonic#sth#sonic au#idk if i shld put it in the main tag#maybe when i draw some art maybe idk#ask#chaoticangelsbeatupgod#null.txt#I can talk more abt how it fucked him up later lmao. I love psychoanalyzing the hell out of him#i know such aus are very popular i think im allowed to have 1
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A bunch of Bonkles fanart I whipped up some time based on background characters from the games, mainly the (officially) unreleased Legend of Mata Nui game but also the GBA game that actually did get released, Quest for the Toa. Barring Podu and Nobua, none of these guys were provided with names, so I took it upon myself to come up with some for them. I should note that I’m operating with the idea that there’s a more even sex distribution throughout the tribes (even if the Ga-Matoran are still predominantly women) and as always, credit goes to @agatharights for coming up with the Matoran baseline that I’ve come to work off of.
Podu: Among the toughest of the Po-Matoran, Podu is an active member of the Po-Koro guard, protecting his people from whatever threat may emerge from the sea of sand. Though not as renowned an athelete as Hewkii, Podu is still quite accomplished as a Kohli player, possessing a powerful kick that can plow through any opposing team’s defense. Loyal and stubborn in equal measure, Podu will insistently plug away at a task until it’s done, though this does give him considerable tunnel vision, leaving him oblivious to very real threats to his own safety until they’re right on top of him.
Harena: Harena is something of an oddity. A traveling Matoran, he spends his time attending to the Vuata Maca trees in each village, ensuring they’re all healthy and producing enough fruit to sustain the Matoran there. Though by all accounts friendly and outgoing, he never seems to stay in one place for too long, constantly hopping around to keep an eye on each village’s tree. The other Matoran are typically glad to provide him with hospitality whenever he arrives, but when asked where his home is, his response is a vague “I go where the winds of fate take me.”
Nobua: The youngest child of Turaga Whenua, Nobua has great dreams and aspirations, no doubt inspired by the adventures of the wandering Ta-Matoran Takua. He’s particularly fascinated by the legends of the Toa and hopes that one day he’ll get the chance to meet one of them in person. Still too young to help out in the mines directly, he often helps his father out with administrative work.
Ombak: A rare non-hybrid Ga-Matoran born biologically male, Ombak is an accomplished surfer... and under an immense amount of pressure to pick a spouse so as to potentially keep the genetic strain going. Problem is, he doesn't really click with any of his suitresses and seems to have eyes elsewhere.
Tauraki: Very few Po-Matoran would earnestly profess to prefer the floating village of Ga-Koro to their desert home, but Tauraki has never been comfortable in the arid Po-Wahi and has made no secret of his desire to move to a more temperate climate. Unlike most of his kin, he's readily thrown himself at swimming lessons courtesy of regular visitor Macku, which she provides in exchange for sneaking her into the village to see Hewkii.
Phiri: An artist at heart dreaming of following in the footsteps of Kopeke, the only thing holding Phiri back... is her own crippling lack of self-confidence. Believing herself to be no good at the craft of ice sculpting, she instead resigns herself to sentry duty at the village's borders, where she's clearly bored out of her mind.
Iskra: The resident gossip of Ta-Koro, Iskra is on top of the rumors going around the village, regardless of their basis in the truth. She's excellent at spinning a yarn, however, and is incredibly charismatic. Vakama wishes she would stop and check her sources every once in a while.
Sekhala: A Po-Matoran athlete, Sekhala is an accomplished goalie who aspires to one day outclass Hewkii himself. Her boisterous nature is endearing to many of her compatriots, though annoying to others.
Beku: An oddly-colored Ko-Matoran, Beku isn't quite as well adjusted to the cold as his fellow tribesmen. Like Tauraki of Po-Koro, he's considered moving out to another village, one with a warmer climate and a more open and welcoming atmosphere.
Alavai: A Ga-Ko Hybrid, Alavai prefers cooler waters and can often be found near the base of Ko-Wahi swimming in its streams. Turaga Nokama can't help but see aspects of the late Toa Mangai Kanae in her, though she can't bring herself to say anything on the matter.
Handaki: An Onu-Matoran miner, Handaki's arms double as pistons that allow him to pound his way through solid rock. A serious, focused sort, Handaki is a dedicated worker and, off shift, a quiet, contemplative sort who puts his hands towards more delicate tasks like painting.
Moli: One of the Takara dancers of Ta-Koro, Moli prides herself on her mastery of expressing concepts through movement. She keeps close contact with the other dancers of the village and will often collaborate with them for mutual benefit.
#my art#bionicle#bonkles#matoran#legends of mata nui#quest for the toa#bionicle oc#podu#harena#nobua#ombak#tauraki#phiri#iskra#sekhala#beku#alavai#handaki#moli
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Eldanamir (The White Knight)
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The history of my Skyrim character Eldanamir.
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Fandom: Skyrim
Warnings: 18 (Adult!), mentions of half sibling incest, abusive father, death of mother, death of spouse, and mentions of stillborn child.
Additional Tags: Angst, hurt, tragic character upbringing, eventual romance, and happy ending.
Note: If any of the warnings bother you, please don't read it. I don't want to make any one uncomfortable with this character.
Note 2: This is a tragic character with a character arc and tragic backstory.
Note 3: This is only the backstory of this oc, I haven't written an entire story on him yet. I wanted a fleshed-out backstory before investing into a story. I made him years ago and only now made a full backstory, there will be plot holes and mistakes that I will fix in the future.
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Character backstory:
Eldan was born in Shimmering, Summerset on the 15th of Midyear, 3E, 115 to Tahneila a commoner and Venador a noble. He grew up in Shimmering. Raised by his single mother, they lived in the poorest district and barely got by most days. Venador left Tahneila when she got pregnant because it would have been bad for his reputation as a noble and pure-bred mer.
The young Altmer raised her son on her own as the best she could, leading by example and praising him on things a many. From a young age, Tahneila could tell her son was different. He preferred to be well dressed in jewels and often played with the Altmer girls. Even going as far as to asking for a doll for the holiday season, Saturlia.
She worried for his safety as an Altmer. The council often frowned upon different children. Especially ones that weren't straight. Tahneila kept her son's affairs quiet and told him to keep secrets too. He was oblivious to his likes, until he met an older Altmer boy and he fell hard.
Tahneila played it off as child play and not a crush, as to not draw attention to her son. He was only five, surely this would pass in time. Though over time, it didn't ease, he had crushes on boys all the time.
By the time the War of Red Diamond came, Eldan's mother had signed up for the war. She wanted to be a good example to her son, plus soldiers were paid good coin. She saw it as an opportunity to give her son a better life, unfortunately, what she got was quite the opposite. She lost her life in the battle instead, leaving her an elfling an orphan. He was only seven at the time of her death.
When the news finally came to Shimmering, Eldan was devastated. That same week, the council put a price on the house and Eldan was forced to live on the streets. He had nothing, but a straw doll and his mother's pendant.
About two months had gone by before Eldan ran away from the intense bullying. He ran for days until he ended up in Sunhold. He lived on the streets for another two months before being caught stealing an apple from a troubadour's cart. Troubadours who eventually became his adopted parents.
Talia and Anaedor took Eldan in without hesitation, they were nurturing, loving, and so gentle. Talia reminded Eldan of his own mother and he bonded with her immediately as for Anaedor, Eldan had never had a father, so getting used to another male in the family was difficult at first, but then he warmed up to his father figure and they bonded just as quickly.
Eldan was raised by the couple for seventeen years before being taken away by his biological father, Venador. After he caught wind of him in Sunhold, Eldan was forced to Alinor to marry his half-sister. An almost perfect Altmer in his father's eyes. Venador found out about Eldan's immense knowledge of magic and wanted his infant grandchild to bear magical power. His daughter lacked good magical skill so two of his children could make the perfect child. Or so he thought.
Eldan wanted no part in this scheme, but he had no choice whatsoever. Eldan and Eliana married the second they got back to Alinor. Their father often checked on them, asking if they had conceived yet. Eriendal, Eldan's stepmother was sick. She hated every part of this idea, but her husband didn't care and said she had no choice anyway.
It was hard for Eldan to perform; equal parts being sickened by the fact that this was his half-sister and the other fact being he wasn't into women sexually or romantically for that matter.
When Eldan turned twenty, he finally managed to get Eliana pregnant with her help. She hired a male consort behind Venador's back and was able to help Eldan perform.
Nine months later, disaster struck. Eliana birthed a stillborn girl and ended up dying from internal bleeding. Eriendal was crushed and Venador was infuriated, he cursed his son for being useless to him and killing his beautiful daughter and perfect grandchild. Eldan did blame himself, if he wasn't cursed, he could have had a better outcome. Venador committed an atrocious act and left his grieving wife behind. She was heartbroken, but never blamed Eldan. In the few years she knew him, she loved him as a son.
In her final moments, she rewrote the family will and gave the inheritance to Eldan. She passed a few days later from a broken heart. Eldan alone again, gathered his belongings and the write of the will and headed out. He joined the Mage's Guild and focused on his magic. He didn't want to think of his life tragedy and he certainly couldn't return to Talia and Anaedor with the shame in his heart. He never told them, maybe they knew and loved him anyway or maybe they would have been disgusted and kicked him out. He may never know.
He decided to cut all contact with them and vowed from that day, to never grow close to someone because he would only end up losing them anyway.
Eldan studied magic for many decades, gaining all kinds of knowledge. Then he ran with pirates for many years. Before fighting in the Oblivion Crisis in the Second Aldmeri Dominion saving Summerset from the daedra as he was led to believe. He was dubbed a hero like the rest of the Thalmor. He had risen in the ranks quickly and became a general within a year of joining. For the years to come, Eldan was a general in the Aldmeri Dominion. Then by the fourth era, he noticed changes in the army, changes he wasn't fond of. He was a stone-cold bastard, but even he knew corruption when he saw it. Politics became more involved and eventually, The Thalmor fully took over. A corrupted group of know it all's.
Then the war Night of Green Fire broke out in 4E, 42. Eldan broke off from the army, when he was questioned why, his choice of words being, "I'm loyal to the Dominion, not the Thalmor."
He helped as many refugees as he could during that time and a lot of casualties played out. Many Altmer died by the hands of the Thalmor. At the end of the war, Eldan was imprisoned and eventually was exiled from Summerset for his extremist views.
He moved to Skingrad, Cryodiil and resided there for many years. Before moving to Bruma, Cryodiil and remaining there until the year of The Great War.
Eldan fought in both the Great War and Battle of the Red Ring against the Thalmor, formally known as the Aldmeri Dominion. He fought with the Empire, and they saw victory. Eldan had years of magic skill and melee skills by that point and the Thalmor stood no chance against him. He wielded a bound battle axe and wore his silver armor that he used in the Oblivion Crisis years before.
In the year 4E, 175, Eldan leaves the Empire after the signing of the White Gold Concordat and returns to Bruma to live, until 4E 201 where he travels to Skyrim and his true destiny is revealed.
He met Rumarin on the 14th of Hearthfire, 4E 201. Little did Eldan know; he had met the young mer years before when he was only a child. Later did Eldan learn, Rumarin was the biological child of Talia and Anaedor. He only found this out after falling deeply in love with him. Eldan vowed to never get close, but Rumarin was persistent. Eldan eventually gave into his feelings, and they got married.
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Get to know Eldanamir (The White Knight) The Dragonborn:
Eldan is 518 years old during the time of Skyrim and stands at 7'3" in height. He's seen many battles, lived many wars, and is magically inclined by anyone else in Tamriel except Neloth.
He uses bound weapons as his choice of weapons. He uses them exceptionally well, he's proficient in every tree of magic and melee. He's a powerhouse and knows it.
He's quiet, standoffish, cold blooded, stubborn, and insecure.
He doesn't feel pain much anymore because of everything he's been through, so pain is just a tickle to him now.
Eldan's greatest fear, he says it's commitment, but it's really abandonment.
He's a stickler, everything annoys him, and he gets angry easily. He starts unnecessary brawls at taverns all the time.
When he meets Rumarin, he grows softer eventually and his cold shell cracks bit by bit.
By the Skyrim end game, Eldan is a fresher version of himself and non-recognizable. He's married to Rumarin, living in Lakeview manor with their adopted elfings and is actually happy again. Something he hasn't felt since his childhood when his mother still lived.
By end game he's compassionate, kind-hearted, patient, and charming.
#my oc character#skyrim#altmer#elder scrolls#rumarin#interesting npcs#skyrim se#dragonborn#skyrim altmer#last dragonborn oc#last dragonborn#the last dragonborn#thalmor#ex thalmor#aldmeri dominion#elder scrolls high elves#elder scrolls lore#elder scrolls oblivion crisis#my oc stuff#oc backstory#oc background#my oc writing#eldanamir oc#oc eldan#my fanfiction#my oc#my fanfic writing#my writing#altmer dragonborn#dragonborn oc
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so we state how we got there then ask our question/share an opinion...?
okay i came here because i was actively checking for tags, any tags, that mentioned Margali Szardos by name (it's a cycle : i get obsessed by this same niche character at the same period every year but it's my first try on tumblr). your blog was like a lighthouse in this ocean of indifference so here i am
now my ask is, have you read strange academy by any chance ? cuz i feel like Margali would have been a perfect fit for that universe and setting instead of Legion of X. they have every magic user from Wanda to Illyana teaching there and helping out all kinds of magical children so Margali would have been right at home with new students and colleagues. hell you could have a subplot of Margali mentoring another Winding Way user and actually give more lore on that kind of magic. they also had evil magic users from other dimensions show up as well as Dormammu. just lots of potential for fanon works and a personal favourite read of mine
now for an opinion, i hate nightcrawler's new backstory. i genuinely do. firstly because the writer acts like his origins matter way more than they actually do (Kurt is +35 rn not a young adult or teen and literally never cared about that aspect after he heard the first few versions) and secondly because this truth reads like a blatant lie and slap to the face after everything that's ever happened to him in a "he never had any free will in his life actually since this moment was gonna happen regardless of what he did since Mystique and Destiny wanted and predicted it since he was born otherwise they would have intervened". the outcome and interactions following the reveal makes me think Mystique isn't the only one here with memory issues from the way Nightcrawler acts in this situation (Krakoa's chronic brain damage i guess). i think these origins would have worked way better for Rogue (it makes perfect sense for her really) and felt less like a spit to everything Nightcrawler went through in his life and with Mystique... and now Destiny... and Azazel too because these two threw him into Kurt's life for lolz basically : Nightcrawler gave up his soul because he needed to keep Azazel out of heaven since red guy used their biological blood ties and soul properties to get there and play captain hook but now ? now you're stuck wondering how that thing even worked back then since it's still being brought up by Azazel in dark xmen now
Sir (genderneutral for the bit), this is a dennys.
I'm not a rant blog for opinions two people just saw me and agreed with my takes and that temporarily turned me into one today dsfgdfgdfg All I am is a dude who likes comics and specifically nightcrawler a Normal Human Amount (lying) But yes! I know strange academy and I actually quite like it. I still gotta get the series to read it fully but I love the concept and uh. Very funny of you to bring that up cause in the last little rant ask that I got, I noted in the tags that I think she would be an interesting teacher for the school. In general, I think margali should get a series for herself, she's super interesting with alot of lore behind her (being stronger than old comics stephen strange at one point, knowing wanda from when she was a child, possibly being a three time sorcerer supreme (earth, winding way, possibly limbo at one point), having powers that depend on a living dimension etc) Also I just want to know more about her past, she was supposetly born in france, so like, how did that effect her? did she grow up there for a while? How did she get into magic? (I am ignoring mother righteous i am ignoring mother righteous I AM IGNORING MOTHER RIGHTEO-)
I already talked about my takes on the whole. bio-parent thing in these Lovely Posts if you care for my opinion, but yeah no, its messy. Though, again there might be a. thing they did if I understood the comics wording right where Kurt is kinda the result of Raven using the Baron and Azazel as blue prints for having the kid?? So in theory, biologically he's christians, azazels, ravens and irenes kid (though raven also notes "countless others" so. infanite bioparents glitch kurt lets fucking gooo) But I might've missunderstood the panels and the idea that they made kurt just have. all the bio-parents was too much of a absolutely gorgeous idea to not take it like that.
Either way another one on the pile of "writers love pulling the stupitest shit with kurt specifically"
remember when he had a daughter in a new reality that he forcefully forgot because he didnt want to break the rules of the new reality because people loved him, and then he realized that he should care for his daughter and promised her to finally be there for her, only for that really to be deleted. that reality was like a bubble thing. that daughter was flesh and bone. they never talk about it but he lost a child he just got back. (age of x-man, 2019) I rember. I think of it alot.
#moth answers#maybe I should start a moth confessional tag#this whole day has been so funny to me you dont understand#who are these people at my door#am i but your medium?#a way to speak the thoughts that might get you banished otherwise#good lord i hope the fandom doesnt pull a uh- r vv by fandom on me for my spicey take of 'idk man I'm not feeling it story wise'#I get to say this I watched that show and have seen the fandom#this is why you'll never get my Tyrian analysis tumblr#I'd be eaten alive
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You know the whole Baterang to the throat thing that causes a lot of discussion in the fandom? I think Bruce might not have been aiming for the throat
It ricochets
This point in comics Bruce has been through a ringer Steph's died, Barbara and Jim have left, Leslie betrayed him and he's had to send Cass and Tim away and now Jason is back but for revenge so Bruce isn’t at his best and I think Bruce threw the Baterang in a moment of panic and either over or undershot which ended up with well that.
This moment causes a lot of debate but I don't see it as “Bruce harming Jason to save the joker” the way a lot of fics paint it I see it more as he'd been aiming for Jason's arm or something to disarm him but overshot and it’s kind of like a symbolism of their relationship.
Which is basically Bruce takes an action to stop Jason from going down a path that he thinks will end up hurting Jason, but ends up hurting Jason in the long-run.
Like when he discussed taking away robin from Jason (because he thought Jason needed time to deal with issues that were becoming more prevalent) which only ended up making Jason feel insecure about his position in the Wayne household, contributing to why he so desperately pursued a stable parental relationship in his biological mother.
Bruce knows that if he gives in and kills the Joker he'll never stop killing we've seen timelines that prove that and I think Bruce also thinks the same of Jason that if Jason kills the Joker he won't stop at all so it’s not that he’s saving the Joker but that he’s trying to save Jason but Bruce ultimately misunderstands Jason’s needs and winds up hurting him.
Bruce is trying to save Jason from what he sees as a downwards spiral, but he ends up hurting him not just emotionally, but physically, and in the most extreme way possible. It's like an even darker echo of how trying to bench him as Robin led to his death.
Bruce has spent YEARS haunted by the memory of Jason’s death his death fundamentally changed Bruce's entire character Alfred said that Jason's death affected Bruce more than his own parents death.
In Underworld Unleashed it's revealed that his greatest desire is to have Jason back, in Hush he talks about how he wanted to put Jason in the Lazarus Pit and how he believes Jason knew he always loved him, and in As The Crow Flies we learn that his greatest fear is Jason coming back as an enemy and then in Under the Red Hood he gets Jason back (his greatest desire) but as an antagonist (his greatest fear) and moreover his belief that Jason 'knew' he loved him is WRONG.
Jason's insecurities from before his death combined with the perceived betrayal of Bruce not avenging him have led Jason to the point where he genuinely believes Bruce doesn't care, and in Jason's eyes, killing the joker is the only way Bruce can prove that he does but instead, in that moment, Bruce's attempt to diffuse the situation backfires.
Bruce misunderstands what Jason needs in that moment like he misunderstood what Jason needed at the start of Death in the Family it's just the ultimate representation of their constant emotional feedback loop. They trap themselves in a cycle of fighting because Jason can't read how Bruce really feels and Bruce can't read what Jason really needs and in that moment both those things are true, with Jason not seeing that Bruce truly cares anymore, and Bruce not knowing how to properly deescalate the situation and show Jason that he still cares.
It's extremely easy to read the batatrang throw as purposeful even though I wholly believe it was accidental but if that moment was explored more, I'm positive that Jason would believe it wasn't an accident, and would view it as proof of his already held view that Bruce doesn't love him anymore after all, that could have killed him, symbolically disowning him in the most extreme way possible.
Heck in Jason's appearance in Green Arrow (2001) Bruce had thought Jason might have died again! Before Jason turned up to mess with Mia.
The thing that's tragic about Jason that actually leads to a lot of his own suffering is that Jason doesn't really know what a healthy relationship looks like so I'm not sure when his actual 'last straw' would be.
Jason is the kind of person who sees love and acceptance as entirely circumstantial. He believes he must /earn/ love and acceptance, i.e. by being Robin, rather than it being inherently given.
A huge piece of understanding Robin Jason is understanding how much he lacked proper support systems back then. School was his only connection to his kids his age, and he didn't benefit much from that connection, his life was essentially: manor, school, Robin, repeat.
Jason loved school, but his school life was also pretty depressing. Jason kept to himself, he didn't have the time to participate in extracurriculars even when he wanted to and his peers didn't view him very positively. Jason was also really isolated from the rest of the hero community, there was his stint with the Titans, but it was pretty brief. He was also penpals with Kid Devil, but for the most part, he just had Batman.
The lack of support is actually one of the reasons I give for Jason and Steph dying in universe since they were the two Robins without support systems outside of Gotham. When Bruce was a jerk Dick and Tim could be like 'fine I'm going to go hang out with the Teen Titans or Young Justice' but Jason and Steph could only be like 'oh no' plus Bruce would deliberately try to take away Steph's support systems that she did have multiple times like when he ordered Cass to stop training with Steph.
But that's besides the point, I wouldn't be surprised if Jason confused being Robin with being accepted in the manor so when Bruce threatened to take away Robin from him, he might've seen it as his only proper support system being taken away from him, his world felt rocked back into instability once again.
When you look at it like that, it's very easy to understand why Jason sought out his biological mother. He had a hope that Sheila would offer him that stability once more, and that he'd get support and trust and unconditional love.
And that’s what make it all the more heartbreaking to me he came to this woman seeking love and gave her his greatest secret and she repaid him with a horrific death. Jason’s death is one of the saddest to me because there’s no high stakes 'he died saving the world stuff' he’s just a kid who wanted a mom and got killed for it.
DC’s habit of taking away who he was is so detrimental to his backstory as the Red Hood because the transformation from someone who tried being kind and who did give it their all being killed for it and coming back like ‘no more’ is so much more interesting than ‘we always knew this would happen’.
Robin disobeying orders is nothing new. If that was the core of why Jason died, then any Robin disobeying orders should never be put in a positive light, but often it is. Jason (and Steph) were just the ones unlucky enough to emerge dead and judged for it instead of alive and praised for it.
Jason died because he was a child who just wanted to be safe and loved.
So many times Robin disobeying orders saved lives it’s nothing new and Jason had a pretty solid reason, the story of Jason Todd should be portrayed as the tragedy not make him some warning sign.
This is why I always hated the victim blaming after Jason & Steph's deaths because they died doing what if it had been Tim or Dick a Robin would be praised for, like take Steph for example we've seen constant stories of Bruce firing Robin, them going off on their own & Bruce realising he's wrong & taking them back but when Steph goes off on her own she dies the only reason Jason & Steph died is that the writers forced them to fail where they would have allowed the others to succeed.
But anyway back to my point the thing about Jason feeling like he had to earn love is why he was initially so hung up on the idea of Bruce 'replacing' him when he came back to life, he viewed Tim being robin as Bruce /transferring/ his love for Jason to another person, rather than seeing that Bruce could love Tim while still loving and missing him.
The reason Jason sought out his mother after Bruce benched him as Robin was that he viewed Bruce benching him as Bruce rejecting him and latched onto the idea of finding someone, i.e. a birth mother, who is supposed to give /unconditional love/.
The fact that his birth mother REJECTED HIM and then played a hand in his murder undoubtedly affected his attitude when he came back, if even his mother didn't want him, and then Bruce let the joker live and replaced him, then, in Jason's eyes, OF COURSE Bruce doesn't care and as mentioned previously Jason didn't really have any friends in school or the hero community, believing that the only real close personal connection in your live, someone you spent all your time with, had forgotten about you and rejected you is bound to mess a person up.
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Was Hotch Abused?
I offer you my 2,300+ worded thoughts on the matter with episodes included. There's going to be lots and lots of talk about abuse so you're going to want to steer clear of that if that's something you're not cool with but for those of you interested... I give you all the proof I could think of:
Natural Born Killer.
In the eighth episode of the first season, “Natural Born Killer”, we meet Vincent Perrotta. His father was abusive but from the outside looking in, no one knew a thing. Perrotta started drinking at fourteen and committed petty crimes, as well as assault, for pleasure. Going as far as to kill his own father not too long after. But Perrotta is a monster and a psychopath so it’s clear we’re not supposed to sympathize which makes his interaction with Hotch so peculiar.
Hotch is our “Captain America”. A true neutral with an infinity for doing what’s right so it’s inconceivable to compare him to Perrotta and yet Hotch gives us some rather conflicting lines to dissect.
Before Gideon hands the interview over to Hotch, he spends a moment talking with the others out in the bullpen. The whole time he’s leaned back and he’s watching Morgan and Hotch. Now, at this point, we don’t know about the sexual abuse Derek Morgan faced at the hands of Carl Buford but there’s something about the way that Gideon spends the entirety of the conversation only looking at the two of them. Waiting for them to put together what he clearly already has and when Hotch does…
Hotch jumps straight into Perrotta’s profile, asking: “You grew up in a house that looked normal and happy, didn’t you Vincent?”, “But your father beat you every chance he got”
Perrotta excuses it with a shrug, “he smacked me around some, didn’t everybody’s old man?”
Abuse is a complicated thing and, often, abused children just don’t know what their parents are doing to them is abuse. It can be a subtle and outright thing but there’s an element of normalcy to it. The parent’s abuse is as habitual, as minimal as biting your nails to the child. Adults often can’t identify their parent’s past abuse.
With Hotch you learn that his lack of expression is often as telling as his expressions and as Hotch looks back at Perrotta, there’s something so sad about his eyes. His voice goes from loud, assertive to his whispered answer to Perrotta’s question. “No.” As if, well, maybe that’s a question he’d raised once too.
Perrotta doesn’t care about that though and he taunts “well, maybe if yours had you would have learned to fight”. But is it not more telling that Hotch didn’t make a sound? Perrotta got in several hits and the only sound Hotch made was when the wind was literally punched out of him. Not even when Gideon called to him and at that point, Perrotta did not the garrote around Hotch’s throat. That’s another thing mentioned before in the profile and something Hotch mentions to Perrotta directly. You learn to take the beatings, smile even. So, it’s just a little odd how little Hotch responded…
But that’s all nothing, you can take that how you want
Which leads us to the fateful, not everyone comment.
"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent. When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers"
That can’t mean NOTHING, there’s so much there but there’s something about Hotch’s subtle wording. The way he’s unconsciously slipped himself in there (a very real thing that people do) and he hasn’t even realized it. Doesn’t even know he’s done it until Perrotta pushes and he pauses, asks what Perrotta means. And the subtly of it, the way he doesn’t even mean to that says more than anything else.
“And some people grow up to catch them.”
It’s a super-specific comment to make. He can’t possibly be talking about Derek because he doesn’t even know about Carl Buford yet not to mention saying that about him would be incredibly rude if he were talking about Reid (and again, he doesn’t know about Reid’s childhood yet). So… that really only leaves him because JJ, Garcia, and Elle were not abused.
“P911”
In season two, episode two “P911” the team is hunting down a man trying to sell a young boy, Peter, on the black market. Kevin Rose is an underage boy “selling” himself on the internet while his abusive father has been in prison. I’ll let you just guess who it is that leads the team on finding out more about Kevin.
Your guess is more than likely right-- Morgan and Hotch. Now, we know about Morgan but come on. Nothing to say about it being Hotch who makes the emotional appeal?
The camera even follows his gaze, he’s crouched down (to appear non-threatening because he’s so close) and we watch his eyes take in the scars on Kevin’s chest. You can also note that while Gideon remarks that Kevin’s father was “always drunk, you never knew why he was hurting you, why he was so angry” both Kevin and Hotch look away from him.
AND FUCKING TRY AND TELL ME THE “some grow up to catch them” LINE WAS NOTHING TRY BECAUSE GUESS WHAT GIDEON SAYS? NO, NO GUESS--
Gideon: “At night you’d cry yourself to sleep hoping someone would come and save you”
And it’s HOTCH, HOTCH IS THE ONE TO SAY: “You have the chance to be the one who saves someone, Kevin. You can be the one who answers him, the one who stops his pain.”
PARALLELS PEOPLE THE PARALLELS
“Profiler, Profiled”
I bet you weren’t expecting this one, huh? But there’s something about people who faced trauma that makes it so perceptible to other traumatized people-- they sniff it out like coke to a drug hound. And, just guess, who it is that spends the majority of his time fighting with Morgan? Who knows (like I said about the bloodhound) immediately there is something Morgan’s hiding.
Hotch is angry, he’s upset that Morgan would hide anything. Mumbling about there being “larger implications” and how the team can’t have secrets. With the knowledge of exactly what that secret is it makes Gideon’s eye roll a little telling. Because it’s like they both know but neither will say. Driven home by Gideon turning the attention to Hotch, asking “would you want us profiling you?”
And again Hotch is the one to leap onto the abuse. The one to put the pieces together. Hotch’s anger makes no sense. He says he’s angry that Derek’s keeping a secret but the team has many, way too many. Over the years the team unwraps all kinds of secrets, he’s never angry then. So, it’s not about the implication of a secret at all. It’s what the secret is, like misplaced anger. Anger with himself may be leftover from his own abuse. But still…
Hotch lets Morgan escape. Knows exactly who and what Carl Buford is but all he tells the team is that “he won’t even speak about him”. He always knows how to find the abuse… like I said, a bloodhound.
George Foyet
I know you’re going to find this so fucking surprising but guess who also was abused? George Foyet was beaten by his biological father and his mother didn’t save him so he hates women (bleh, men are disgusting what’s knew).
Now, blah, blah, blah Hannah, I know you’re not about to say Foyet and Hotch are a lot alike-- no of course not. Don’t be silly. What I’m going to say is that they’re foil characters? They accent one another in an opposites sort of way. Foyet is a manipulative narcissist who doesn’t work well with others. Hotch is a guilt-ridden team leader who can’t let The Reaper’s case go. There are meant to be comparisons drawn between them. A good villain does that. George Foyet shows us that Hotch is not at all this removed, cool guy that we’ve previously assumed him to be. He cries in an alley because he blames himself when The Reaper kills a busload of people.
We see he has a rather compulsive nature. He never let The Reaper case go and has very personal ties in this case. Not even after Foyet attacks him, if anything it’s worse. He brings the case file home.
But it’s certainly interesting to see yet another “villain” with that same tragic abusive father and submissive mother come into play with Hotch. We’re nearing a point where it’s getting hard to call it coincidence (and according to David Rossi, there simply is not such thing).
Haunted.
In the second episode of the fifth season, “Haunted”, Hotch voice’s over a Dickinson quote: “One need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing. Material place.” These quotes are often cheesy, if not a little cliché, but given the premise of this episode is in exploring the ways in which a man’s traumatic childhood has left him now grappling for a truth he can not define… well, maybe we can say the writers were onto something here.
Darrin Call, debatably the Unsub of “Haunted”, was abused by an alcoholic father. We see several signs of it throughout the episode-- Darrin’s delayed speech & severe neglect that leaves Darrin in dirty, hole-riddled clothing. If what we see is not enough, the reports that the team is given on Darrin explicitly state that he was extremely physically abused. It is this abuse that leads to the PTSD that he’s diagnosed with.
As sad and disheartening as Darrin Call’s life is, overall it’s the sort of episode that is forgotten over time. When it’s placed right after the episode that viewers have to watch Hotch say goodbye to Haley and Jack then, who is Darrin Call when compared to the agony of watching Hotch show genuine weakness? After watching Hotch lay in a hospital bed, tears in his eyes wondering if his son will remember him? His fears become our own and after watching George Foyet disarm and mutilate the one guy we’ve been led to believe for five seasons is infallibly, unflinchingly never going to break… well, Darrin Call has it bad but our focus is elsewhere.
It’s on Hotch, right?
The guy who is coming back to the job after only a month (and a day) off to recover. Who Morgan worries might have PTSD but he knows they can’t easily measure because Hotch wrote the questionnaire, he knows all the right answers. Who we see has had new locks installed since the attack and has Foyet’s file sitting open on a table for easy access. Who hears Darrin Call’s life (worked the same job without promotion for years before getting fired, no wife, no kids, a hermit) and bluntly asks why Darrin hasn’t just killed himself.
And let’s just take a moment to break down that comment. Hotch, who in the episode previously lost his wife and child, wants to know why a man who is steadily starting to sound a lot like him hasn’t just killed himself.
And I don’t say “sounds a lot like him” lightly.
Darrin Call has PTSD. Hotch, more than likely, has PTSD
Here are some signs just from that episode: hostility (he yelled at Garcia over something very small), self-destructive behavior (he ran into Darrin Call’s father’s house without a vest, back-up, or telling the other’s what he was doing), and guilt (blamed himself for missing the eye twitching Darrin exhibited because of his years of antipsychotic use)
Darrin Call was abused… this marks the second HEAVILY implied time that Hotch has been compared to another man abused by his father
Vincent Perrotta was the first with that hard to forget the exchange
George Foyet and his notably exactly the same past as Perrotta
“Haunted” feels like it’s supposed to prove to the audience that Hotch is losing it. He distances himself from Morgan, leaving every room that Morgan is in. He doesn’t pick up Garcia’s calls after Darrin Call attacks his therapist. The only glimpse we see of the old Hotch is with Emily, pulled to the side, but his guilt burns and he even brushes her off. Shaking his head and turning his back to her because somehow he should have seen something no one else did.
Throw in Reid’s comment about Call “victims are often drawn to the scene of their first trauma” and we’re painfully reminded of Hotch’s apartment. A place you’d think he’d want to escape but didn’t. The man was stabbed nine times in his own apartment and stayed in that same place. Almost sounds like that statement could be applied to Hotch too.
A dash of Hotch’s own comment about where Call would go to in his confusion and he says “to what he knows”, even the importance of how that orphanage is “where he became Darrin Call”. Where does Hotch go? What does Hotch know? The job.
So… we tally now three total Unsubs that Hotch has this direct relationship with. Three Unsubs with abusive fathers and mothers who couldn’t protect them. Hmm… coincidence?
Brothers Hotchner
Supervisor Special Agent Hotchner is a master of hiding, that is undeniable. It’s hard to see anything behind those furrowed brows and impersonal suits and that’s likely for a reason. However, anyone with a little sibling can tell you that no one on this Earth can and will annoy the ever-loving shit out of you like a sibling.
But that’s not really important. Sean and Hotch don’t talk about their parents. At all. Ever.
Hotch says that when Sean was in the first grade he got sent off to boarding school. “I was the screw-up making bad choices”. Interesting enough of a statement to make but you throw in the rough ages of Sean and Hotch at that time and it’s a little more than just “interesting”. You have Hotch at roughly 14-15 getting into trouble just like Morgan did at that same age (coincidence???).
(now you can certainly look at Hotch’s parentification vs. Sean’s immaturity doubled with substance abuse problems but we’d be stretching. “The Tribe” touches on the parentification but Sean just calls it “the big brother” thing and tells Hotch that he’s not Sean’s father and it’s fine it’s whatever. Hotch is a bit pushy. That’s not new. Substance abuse can just be a problem, it doesn’t have to be bc they were abused but again… a little coincidental)
So... was Aaron Hotchner abused as a child? I certainly think so
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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
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