#like if you can survive ye olden days you can survive anything
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sometimes i remember that sebastian sallow IS a victorian era boy. imagine he time travels to modern day era. nevermind avada kedavra, a sip of mcdonalds sprite would take him out lmao
#or not back then they literally depended on natural selection#like if you can survive ye olden days you can survive anything#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy#hl#im sorry#but i have to say it
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Who named Rapunzel? If it was the king or the queen, why Eugene couldn't recognize her by the name? And why Gothel kept this name?
If it was Gothel, then why the king and the queen kept the name? Doesn't it mean "lettuce" or something?
According to the series, it was canonically her parents who named her. We know this for two reasons:
In Tangled: Before Ever After, when Fredric is remembering the night she was kidnapped, he calls out her name in his memory.
In the season 3 episode "No Time Like the Past," we see missing posters of her up around Corona with her name on them.
I have headcanons that go way back to before the series existed about her name, so strap in, because this is a kind of involved answer.
First, I'll address the meaning. Rapunzel is not lettuce. Rapunzel is another name for the rampion plant which, yes, has edible leaves and roots and can be used as a salad green, but more closely resembles a radish than lettuce. However, it is also the name of the plant's flower, and just like how Rose, Daisy, Lily, Hyacinth, etc are all names, why not Rapunzel? Furthermore, Disney's Rapunzel was not named after the rampion flower, specifically. She was named after the Sundrop flower that saved her and the queen's life.
Here is what the rapunzel flower looks like:
And here is what the Sundrop flower looks like:
Notice how the center of the Sundrop flower essentially contains a rapunzel flower. This was deliberate on the part of the artists who designed it. Rapunzel was named after this flower.
As for why Gothel kept the name, I have a headcanon for that.
Back in the day, in ye olden tymes, babies were often not named until they were Christened, which didn't really happen until the parents were relatively sure the kid would survive. Now, Corona doesn't appear to be a Christian nation (it appears to be a sun-worshiping one that has the trappings of Christianity, if you ask me, but that's neither here nor there), and the king and queen clearly named their baby. So my headcanon is that the night they lifted the lantern was not the day she was born. I mean, look at that baby. She has the wiggliness and personality of a three-month-old, at the youngest. I think the lantern lifting was their version of her Christening, when her name would be revealed to the people. Up until then, I headcanon she was called Baby Princess by the citizens. Now, since the people only knew her name for one night, they sort of defaulted to calling her The Lost Princess after she was kidnapped.
My headcanon goes on to say that Gothel either didn't know the baby's name and also named her Rapunzel after the flower that she now embodied, or else she did know her name and figured that the girl was never going to see this kingdom again, so was too lazy to come up with anything different when it already suited her perfectly.
Eugene is, canonically to the series, not raised in a Corona orphanage. He's raised in a Vardaros orphanage. If the citizens were by and large calling her The Lost Princess, then that's the name that would spread to other kingdoms and territories. Then, by the time Eugene was doing that job in Corona that was happening in "No Time Like the Past," he wasn't looking at "lost baby" posters around town, just keeping an eye out for the guards (and other things worth stealing). He wasn't consciously aware of the posters, he didn't hear anyone referring to the Lost Princess as Rapunzel, he didn't know that was the princess' name.
All of this is a long way to say that the series actually complicated things by having the king and queen name her Rapunzel. If it had been Gothel, I wouldn't have had to come up with a convoluted headcanon to explain it all.
#Tangled#Tangled the Series#Rapunzel#Eugene Fitzherbert#King Frederic#Queen Arianna#Mother Gothel#TTS#The Flower#Headcanons#Analysis#Answered
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What do you think would it take Carlisle to put his foot down and say "okay charade is over, we're going to live in the woods for x years", outside of growing technological concerns (since draining a human like they're kool-aid won't do it)?
Anything that can't conceivably be forgotten and will be tied to them.
As the internet has taken off, this has become harder and harder as news travels very quickly and even internationally. In ye olden days, if Rosalie Hale is murdered in Rochester all the Cullens have to do is put enough distance between them and the city. Rosalie might make national headlines for a little bit, but it will be one story, with likely very few photos of Rosalie herself, that's easily forgotten with enough time in a place not connected to the community.
If it's truly something on a national level, then they could go abroad for a time or else return to society in a few years' time.
Now, though, you have weird podcasters who love true crime, news that can easily travel coast to coast, the ability to look up Dr. Cullen's professional photos on Google and see "gosh, has he aged at all in ten years?", more sophisticated forensics, it's getting harder and harder to disappear if needed.
It can be an accident that they can't cover up/blows up into a mystery or something as simple as "I can't erase my history on the internet".
If you're asking beyond that though, socially, it'd be the Cullens falling apart. However they go, it will be bad, and I don't see the human charade surviving it in that all parties would likely be disillusioned.
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I’ve got some Whole Man questions and I hope it’s okay because it’s a story I truly enjoy but I lack history knowledge and I’m not as smart as you.
1. (Not a historical question) I imagine Rosey maybe having a baby face despite what she’s been through, like maybe when she smiles people are reminded how young she is. Any accuracy to how you envision her?
2. Does the Captain have an STD of sorts for real or is he wrongly diagnosed under Colonel’s orders?
3. And if he does carry an STD, is Rosey okay with it being passed to her? The latest chapter when she asks him if he is refusing to sleep with her in fear of getting her sick how exactly did all that work back then? Is he sick like Aida?
4. What exactly is the Captain ill from?
5. Is Rosey saving him money now that she’s running his books or is she still trying to figure out exactly what stretches his money so thin?
I’m sure I’ve got more that are currently escaping my mind so I might pop back in later with them if that’s alright! Like I said I love this story I just get a bit lost sometimes! Not because of your writing but because of my lack in knowledge!
I am soooo glad to be asked these sorts of questions, I could talk your ears off about this particular story and as it’s rather complex and uh, vague??? i do sometimes wonder what confusion I may have sewn at times with the unfolding and it’s nice to have a check as to wether those confusions are being unsnarled properly. Also, I am a history nerd, everyone has their areas of passion and study and excellence, I’m just so glad this series caught your affection anyway.
1. The baby faced softness: oh yes, very accurate to how I imagine her, a rather stern and unconventionally pretty resting face that belongs to a woman who has been through hell and deprivation rather than the young fresh girl she ought to be. But then her smile can wrought a complete metamorphosis in softening her face, I like to think her teasing little looks she sends Captain Presley the more confident she becomes around him have a similar effect of making her look younger and arch. I never wanted to give her an full faceclaim as in my mind she’s very much original. I also wanted y’all to feel free to imagine as you like, it did start as a reader insert, after all. But here are a few gals from ye olden days that resonate with my vision of her. mainly the third, I see her AS rosey.
2. Mm, ok yeah so, it’s rather likely he had one? At some point? But the entire fuss made over it and the credit it’s given for ALL his ailments is entirely fabricated. And not out of poor doctoring but an intentional (by the colonel) misdiagnoses to keep him both in thrall to the drugs and shamed regarding the very cause of his current misery. I have always intended he have something like malaria or the like, which is borne by biting insects and can cause damage to vital organs permanently in those who survive the initial illness and often flares as a chronic fevered illness, effecting the liver and blood and mind. There were treatments already available for it back then but chiefly belonged to indigenous people and the brilliant minds of the medical system at that time had no desire to learn from “primitive” people who actually lived and survived amongst the most afflicted areas -shocker. 🙄 I guess I sorta answered your fourth question here lo
3. Yeah so this will be interesting to tackle, as I fully believe he is concerned with passing anything to her although his genuine reasoning is in regards to waiting for marriage. As for Rosey? I think she already doubts that’s his full trouble but then she is not very educated on any of these conjugal things or the side effects of prostitution. The captain has watched, with Aida and others, the slow or rapid decline of so many succumbing to his erstwhile occupation -in fact, his chief tolerance for Aida and providing for her is a guilty sort of attempt at charity with the hopes that if he is kind to her and merciful, the same mercy might be granted him when he declines similarly. A bit of a bargain with God. So Rosey is perhaps not as concerned as she should be, but that may work in their favor if he’s misdiagnosed. Also, back then -and this is criminally tragic- plenty of women caught and died from stds given them by their philandering husbands, men who weren’t “disreputable” in any polite sense but did indulge in prostitutes and came back to their unsuspecting (or worse suspecting but helpless) wives and infected them. This even resulted in congenital infection, many babies died from their fuckwit father’s spreading this to their wives. All of this is an impolite history Rosey would be unaware of but Captain Presley would be keenly cognizant of.
3. Rosey is trying. 😂 Boy is she trying to save and to play detective but honestly? I think we already know where the money is going just as we know where the real Elvis’ money chiefly went -to Parker. While Elvis is left with his half share that must also pay for the boat, the coal, the wages, much of the bribes, multiple dependents off the boat and of course, his occasional bouts of outrageous generosity and indulgence in fine things.
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so one of my favorite things to do is deep-dive into musical artists from and preceding the 1930s. I say "deep dive" but the reality is that I usually get wildly distracted by the very first one I find and skitter off on an endless fractal of information which I then feel very uncertain about.
Like Fred Hall. Motherfucker put out music under like seventeen different aliases. WHY would you DO that. I'm sure he had a reason but also I cannot fucking find out when this audio ("T'aint No Sin," a title that has aged well) was made. Also is it REALLY Fred Hall I'm listening to or did some bored motherfucker grab a name off of the wrong line? That's also a possibility, unfortunately for me.
If there's anything you should know about information from Ye Olden Dayes--scratch that, from any point, including five minutes ago--it's that it's a game of telephone that anybody at any point could have injected dumbfuckery into. You cannot possibly check every piece of information. You will absolutely be a vessel for untruth. God damn ittttt
Whatever, we do our bests.
I like making endless playlists in foobar2000, my music player. I don't stream. Not because I wanted to be a fuckin hipster or whatever. In fact, I was THIS close to getting a Spotify subscription when two things happened: a) the Spotify app refused to play my local music when I built mixed playlists of streamed/local files, and b) I started working at a location where I could bring my laptop, but I had no access to the workplace internet, so everything had to stay local. Later I attempted to use it again only to discover that non-paying customers couldn't listen to their playlists in order, and well, girl, I've got how many thousands of songs now? Fuck you, I'll find the ones I want.
These days I'm actually deeply grateful for this complete accident. I feel that the more we spread data out, the more redundantly stored, the more likely it will survive into the future. Clearly corporations can do whatever the fuck they want and that includes destroying records of human civilization in various capacities.
Regardless, my current problem is this: I am sorting music by year and I cannot find out when "T'aint No Sin (To Dance Around in Your Bones)" was recorded. And for some of Ella Fitzgerald's work I can only discover a stretch of three years. When was "Vote for Mr. Rhythm" recorded? uhhhhh. Between 1935 and 1938, but possibly later rather than sooner because the earlier she appears, the less she sings; the longer she sings, the more important she had become on the bandstand. So I put it down as 1938 since it's a whole-ass song. Educated guesses. What does this mean for shit from 1936 and 1937? Shit idk best wishes if it's not on discogs
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tldr: In ye olden days, it was beneficial to steal when you would never see the victim again and there were no consequences, and today, people have a set amount of energy they can expend before just doing whatever's easiest.
Imagine the following: You come into work, and are almost starving because you're working federal minimum wage and have to skip meals because your food stamps got misplaced (read: possibly stolen). You go into the break room and see that someone has left a meal out. You don't know who it is, or how well off they are, but they'll probably be back. You're faced with a choice. 1: You can take the food, and upset someone, but probably face no consequences because there's not a camera in the breakroom. By doing this, you will guarantee that you'll live another day, but you'll teach any impressionable witnesses that this is okay. 2: You can wait for them to come back and ask, but they might not like you, and might say no (possibly aggressively). Odds are, the best they'll let you have is half. Or they might not come back at all, and you might have to leave to start your shift, grabbing what you can (which is sure to be less) or working on an empty stomach. 3: You can decide not to take what isn't yours, but golly you're hungry, and you might just die of starvation if you keep selecting this option. It's a tough situation, but this isn't the only thing I'd like you to imagine before we're done.
Now, I'd like you to imagine that you're working your job at your local small business burger shack, and asks to use the restroom, which is in the far back. They're not going to buy anything, they just need the restroom. They might just be another customer, but they look an awful lot like a regional manager of McDonalds, and if they are, then they're probably around in order to see if they can buy your business out, putting you either out on the street or working for them in a much worse situation. Again, you have a choice. 1: You can let them in and treat them like a normal customer, in which case they might become a regular customer and good profit, or might just come in regularly to use the restroom, probably ending with them dropping an absolute dookie at the worst possible time. Or they might have been a Micky-Dee's expansion operative, in which case they're going to sneak around and see how they can force you out of business. 2: You can let them use the restroom, but be guarded about it, making extra sure they don't wander, and leave when they should. No matter what, they're less likely to come in again, feeling less safe, and the McDickhead is less likely to be able to exploit you, but might still come back with reinforcements. 3: You can bar them access entirely, with whatever means are available. Your customer base might be a little nervous, but you won't get bought out.
And finally, we get to closing time. It's been a long day, and if you think back to your instructional video, you're officially supposed to wash the walls tonight. But the person who trained you taught you that your manager doesn't really pay much attention to whether or not the walls are washed, paying more attention to whether or not the tables are cleaned and the floor is mopped. If you do all three, you absolutely will not be going home on time, and will be really tired tomorrow. If you put off washing the walls enough, it will become the norm not to wash the walls, which might cause unsanitary conditions for some people, but will ensure that you go home on time and aren't as tired.
The first situation was early peoples coming across a still-edible corpse that might have been left by a different tribe or by a predator, setting the precedent of ignoring the possibility of being ethical towards "others" for the survival of "our group," especially when it's unlikely that uou would come across the same specific "other" again.
The second was any sort of imperialism. By this time, we're more likely to be suspicious if we know we would do the same unethical action, meaning it's more likely that if we're the McD's expansionist, we would be more likely to think that the local person would be trying to do the same when they come back.
The third can be in the modern day. If we think back to kindergarten, we were taught the golden rule, but if it's overwritten enough times (either by not being punished or by being encouraged) we get upset when people try to change our current ways of not following it.
Unfortunately, humans have always needed effort to be nice.
y'all ever wonder why people aren’t just like. nice to each other
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Guess what I didn't completely forget about this (lie) so here's all of them cause I can't make 30 consecutive posts and remember apparently: 1. what type of dirt would your kintype eat? Muddy dirt full of roots and worms and little crunchy rocks that have the same effect as eating sand
2. warm or cold ocean water Cold
3. describe a pie made from three ingredients your kintype would eat, crust included, go Berries, eggs, and way too much butter
4. if your kintype suddenly opened their eyes, what would they be looking at? A computer, specifically one that has way too many tabs open, half of those are tumblr tabs I keep forgetting to close.
5. do you like sticks yes they both crunch and stab
5. 5 again. do you like leaves
yes. very tasty.
7. does your kintype migrate
maybe?
8. sleepy or awakey
awakey. Awakey with much caffeine and enough energy overpower Zeus himself
9. are you smaller or larger than a breadbox
misread this as are you smarter or larger than a bread box, I'd say larger, I have like 1 working braincell in this head of mine.
10. describe the vegetation around your kintype's feet
Clovers, grass with little grasshoppers and spiders crawling over it, ferns everywhere, and lots of little twigs. Or short grass covered in dry pineneedles.
11. what's the most specific or unusual shift (if you experience them) you've experienced Once had a cameo beta fish phantom fin while sitting in my kitchen one day. Dont know where that came from but it was cool.
12. what website is your kintype most like FireFox (Browser? Website? Same thing.)
13. hey, how's it going (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
14. if given a cellphone, what would your kintype do with it
*Chomp*
15. how do you make your room/home/surroundings more suited to your kintype Blankets shaped into a little den, like a pillow fort almost. Also a little horde of shinnies for harpykin.
16. tell me about your favorite kind of fabric…like, just in general, unrelated to your kintype(s)
Anything thats not velvet
17. are you bitey
Yes.
18. how does your kintype feel about chia seeds
Eh too small
19. can your kintype knit? if not, could your kintype knit if given instructions
No thumbs :(
20. describe your kintype's skin texture in great detail
Skin. With lots of fur.
21. glossy or matte
Glossy
22. wildcard, I'm getting tired of writing these
╰(‵□′)��
(ヘ・_・)ヘ┳━┳
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
┻━┻ ︵ヽ(`Д´)ノ︵ ┻━┻
23. you hear a scratching noise around the corner, what does your kintype do
:O
24. what's your kintype's most acute sense
Scent or sound
25. alone in a forest with no provisions, how long does your kintype survive
Whole life I guess? I mean that's my kintypes' home, but if it was me probably would die of eating a poisonous mushroom or getting mauled by a pack of wolves.
26. describe your kintype as a canned vegetable
Canned carrots, but like ye olden day carrots that were weird colors and bitter mixed in.
27. it's getting dark out, does your kintype sleep, wake up, or PANIC
Kin wakes
28. how many fingers do you have and why
10, so far. Surprised I still have them all tbh.
29. what's a really nice smell
petricore. Or some kinds of trees that are just ^v^
30. has 30 days of this unhinged you further?
Yes I feel myself slipping into insanity.
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The Favor Ch. 2
The next day, Hermione found herself in her private library studying the competitive balls from the olden days of Arisinland. She lounged on a maroon velvet couch as she wiped a bit of dust from the ancient book. The language was Old English and used words such as ‘ye’ and ‘art’, but she was intelligent enough to pick up the gist.
The Olden Competitive Balls consisted of four challenges that the strongest men in the city would take part in. The one that survived duels to the death, hand-to-hand combat, lance throwing and storm chasing would win the prize of the future Queen. She wondered what tasks the Royal Court would deem worthy for the amendments. Surely, she could persuade them towards one that actually stole her interest, such as writing a short story or creating herbal remedies.
As much as she did not want to go through the heartache of finding a husband, she was at least grateful that Sir Lucius had not forced her into an arranged marriage. Sir Potter had been right. Her parents had a doting marriage overflowing with affection. At her core, Hermione knew she longed for that too. She was just terrified of receiving such a blessing and losing it like she had lost her parents. Companionship never lasted. Hermione wasn’t sure that the joy of it was worth the inevitable pain when you lost them.
She sighed briefly as she pushed a strand of curly hair out of her eyes. She felt nervous at the prospect of housing the eligible of Arisinland within her palace. She had not had any guests since her parents death and felt unequipped to be a proper hostess.
Surely, Lady Potter would be of help in that regard.
She snapped the book shut and made to the library door with purpose, her maid, Merida, following closely behind.
She floated gracefully down the halls, years of propriety training coming naturally to her now. Her gown barely hovered above the floor and swished with each step she took.
She found the redhead she had been looking for, sitting at a desk writing a letter in her and Sir Potter’s room.
She politely knocked and smiled as Lily looked up at her.
“Your majesty! How thankful I am to be graced with your presence.” Lily said this genuinely, and Hermione was always glad for her kind demeanor.
“Please, Lily, the pleasure is all mine.”
Lily smiled and titled her head in understanding. The Royal Queen allowed certain members to call her by her first name, and Lady Potter was certainly one of those members.
Hermione twisted her fingers as Lily bid her entrance into their room, and Hermione took a nervous seat on the edge of their bed.
“To what do I owe the honor then, Hermione.”
“Well, you’ve been a trusted friend to my parents and your family has grown to mean quite a lot to me. I was curious is you knew anything about how to host a large number of guests.”
Lily took on a smirk so eerily reminiscent of her husbands, “Ah, you mean the competitive ball? Yes, I do believe James relayed the outcome of yesterdays meeting. I’m sure you’re bursting with excitement.” She said the last part with a sarcastic lilt.
Hermione huffed a breath and hunched forward, losing the straight-back posture trained into her from an early age, “God, I can’t even begin. Why on earth do I need a husband! I’ve been doing wonderfully, have I not? At leading this country?”
Lily’s eyebrows scrunched, “I can assure you, my husband and his friends do not think you need a husband, by any means, to lead. Their motive is surely so that you can have a bit of fun. You are so young, Hermione, it’s a pity you had to assume such duty and responsibility at your age. Regardless, you have been leading splendidly. However, it will be difficult without someone you can trust by your side. It can’t be any of the royal advisors and it would be improper for only a friend to assume such a role. You, of course, know this, but well, to reiterate, you do not need a husband, though surely you would like to have a bit of youthful indulgence.”
Hermione pursed her lips. She honestly hadn’t thought about anything other than her parents and her country the last few months. Being royal was certainly all-consuming.
“While that may be Lord Potter’s intention, it most certainly is not Sirs Lucius, Snape or Mulcibers’.”
“Ah, fuck em. You’re the queen. This ball only ends how you want it to.”
Hermione snorted at Lily’s obscenities. It was quite lovely when people were authentic with her. Refreshing. Lady Potter had not grown up in the royal homelands as so many others around Hermione and it was nice to have someone that wasn’t afraid to break propriety.
“Thats just it! I have power over this, yet I have no idea how to host a ball, let alone house the eligible of Arisinland for three months during the duration of this Competitive Ball!”
“Not a single fear for assuming the role of Queen, yet hosting a few balls strikes fear in Her Majesty’s heart.” Lily had a small smile. It was evidence that Hermione had not gotten out near enough these last eight months.
“I’ve trained for becoming queen all my life! I have never once attended a ball with the purpose of attaining a husband, nor do I know how to throw one!”
“You’ll be quite relieved to know that the Royal Court has implemented the Planning Committee to oversee the development and implementation of the Competitive Ball. The only thing you will be required to do is attend Hermione. And, of course, cast your vote for which eligible bachelor holds your fancy.” The grin was back on the older woman’s face.
“Ugh, those are two things I truly do not want to do!”
Lily laughed at her plight.
“Would you like to see the invitation?” Lily questioned as she held up a golden card.
Hermione groaned as she snatched the offending paper out of Lily’s hands. The base of the card was tan with sparkling gold calligraphy outlining the words, “Her Majesty cordially invites you to Arisinland’s renovated Competitive Ball on the 18th of March. As a member of the esteemed Potter Household, your presence is requested to attend throughout the duration of the eligible season until the 17th of June. Harold James Potter is herein granted the right to fight for the hand of Her Majesty—“
Hermione broke off, “Harry cannot seriously be invited to fight for my hand in marriage, Lily! He so obviously holds Ginny in high regard. And I would eliminate him no matter how well he fares in the tasks!”
Lily’s eyes twinkled, “You and I know that about Miss Weasley, but Harry has yet to observe that about himself. I am unconcerned how early you eliminate my son, I only ask that you do it gently.”
Hermione scoffed, “Who else is invited to fight for my hand?”
Lily leaned forward as if she were about to share gossip that was particularly juicy, “The Weasley Household, The Lovegoods, The Delacours, The Johnsons, The Malfoys—“
“Ergh! Sir Draco wants to attend? How miserable for me.”
“His father is most certainly forcing that wretched boy to attend. Likely in hopes he’ll make a match with money.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose as Lily continued.
“The Bulgarian Guardsmen are also invited.”
Hermione’s eyes flashed to Lily in surprise. “How on earth did we manage that?”
“It seems that they are looking for love matches as well.” Lily’s eyes trailed over Hermione, possibly hoping for a reaction.
Viktor Krum of The Bulgarian Guardsmen was famously known for rescuing the Prince of Persia and his little sister. He was the talk of most major kingdoms for such an act of bravery. Hermione imagined that Malfoy was hoping for their match if only so that he can benefit from the fame.
Hermione hmmpfed, “Well, he’ll likely be eliminated like the rest of them.”
“Your Majesty! Please keep an open mind! This is as much for your benefit as it is for the eligibles.”
Lily pleaded.
“Fine. I’ll consider those that impress me.”
“That’s all I can ask.” Lily stated with a sigh. Talk of the impending ball continued until Hermione took her leave to make for the nightly dinner party.
—
Sirs Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter were in attendance for tonight, which was not unusual. Sir Weasley enjoyed the vast food options and Sir Potter enjoyed having an unrefined friend within the palace walls. Hermione admittedly enjoyed both of their presences, but certainly not enough to ever consider marrying one of them. Hermione wished she had thought to invite Lady Ginny, but had been preoccupied with the day's talk of the ball.
“Hermione!” Ron called through a bite of chicken, “What do you think of this stupid ball?”
The attention turned to her and her face burned. “I think I shall have fun watching men make a fool of themselves.”
Lily laughed lightly as James eyes twinkled at her.
“And what of you, Ronald? Hoping to find a love match?”
Ron’s ears turned red, “And if I was, what business is it of yours?”
This surprised Hermione. Ron was not someone she considered aware of his feelings or self-reflective of his needs at all. She held her hands up in innocence, “My apologies, Lord Weasley. I only meant to tease. I can only hope the season turns out in the way you wish.”
Hermione had gotten better at responding with meekness and grace, the way people wished a queen would. It didn't come particularly natural to her, but when the eyes of the palace were on her, she utilized it to control her image. It seems that her answer surprised Sir Lupin, his eyebrows flying up in shock.
Ron’s face was still red, but his defiance deflated, “Right, well thanks, Mione.”
She knew that Sir Malfoy was looking at them with something like suspicion in his eyes at the old nickname. They had been friends since early childhood and old habits slipped out often. It was improper for the queen to be spoken to with such familiarity.
“Oi!” Sir Black wacked Sir James Potter's hand as he had tried to steal a fry from his plate.
The eyes were suddenly off of her and she used the opportunity to take a sip of her water.
“Mums making all of us come. Says it would be disrespectful not to. Even Bill, who has no need to attend another eligible.”
“They could’ve all fought for Hermione’s hand on any other day. Why come for the ball now?”
Hermione shrunk in her seat at Harry’s words. Surely Arisinland would think she was behind this ridiculous competition. A silly girl hoping to pass her duties off to the next suitable man. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment and anger. She stood, ignoring the sudden clatter her chair made when she did.
“If you’ll excuse me.” She bowed to the table, and did not bother to push her chair back in, knowing that Merida was waiting in the wings.
She felt that somber feeling she’d been wading through the last few months bubble up again as she strode to her room to escape. She was tired of this feeling. That her mother would know what to do. That if her parents hadn’t died Arisinland would surely have a better fate. She was trying her best to abide by each of the palace's traditions, to live up to her parents legacy. This ball was another thing on her plate that was eating her up.
As she finally made it to her bedroom door, she paused, “Merida, I wish to be alone tonight. You may retire early.”
“Your majesty, if I may, I think you may find Miss Ginerva Weasley as a guest for Lady Potter. She had sent her to wait in your chambers.”
Hermione spun to face her servant’s brown eyes. She was still in a bowing stance and Hermione smiled at her. “Merida, you are a god-send. I shall find Ginerva and you shall still retire early.”
“Bless you, Your Majesty.”
Hermione pushed the door to her new-ish bedroom and found herself engulfed in her dearest friends arms.
“Oh Ginny, I’m so terribly sorry for not inviting you to dinner. It’s been wretched around here and I had forgotten myself.”
“I will accept an apology in the form of those delectable chocolate strawberries.” Ginny stated as she released the Queen.
Hermione grinned and flagged down a nearby servant.
—
Only the stems of the strawberries remained in between Miss Ginny Weasley and Her Majesty Hermione Granger.
“So you see! I couldn’t possibly say yes to being courted by Sir Thomas!” Ginny spoke loudly and Hermione beamed at the tone. Oh how she missed her friend.
“Ginny, you and I both know you would say to Sir Thomas but are holding out for one Sir Potter.”
Ginny’s mouth popped open in offense, “Oh how dare her majesty speak with such candor!” Ginny tossed a stem at her and Hermione immediately retaliated.
They each eventually fell to the bed in laughter, Ginny claiming a strawberry-induced victory to the stem war.
“And what of you, Hermione? Is there not a soul you’d wish would ask you to dance?”
Unbidden, Hermione thought of one person that came to mind, but quickly squashed the idea. Ginny’s older brother with a pension for mischief would surely not pursue her, as he would’ve had plenty of opportunities. As Harry so poorly pointed out in the dining hall.
“No. Not one.” She suppressed a sigh.
“Then surely this ball is a good thing. If not to find a husband, to at least widen the playing field.”
Hermione clenched her eyes shut as she spoke the next piece quickly, “I just…I only wish that Arisinland would not see me as a silly girl on the hunt for a husband. I’m doing just fine without one.”
“Hermione, do you know what The Arisinland Times has written about you?”
Hermione did not. She has resolutely been avoiding the paper, fearful of seeing her grieving face fill the pictures. She shook her head.
“You have been described as a lady so wise that only Rowena Ravenclaw could challenge you. Your parents were beloved and so far, you have only managed to capture the hearts of Arisinland even more. Do not doubt yourself.”
Hermione felt emotion build in her eyes. She quickly wiped the edge, silently thanking her friend before promptly changing the subject.
“I think that Ronald believed he could find a love match.”
Ginny grinned wickedly.
#harry potter#james potter#sirius black#ao3#fanfiction#fred weasley#hermione granger#hermione granger x fred weasley#ginny weasley#regency#royalty#harry potter fandom
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put “top 5” anything in my ask and i will answer ok go
Top 5 ocs of yours? I'm so curious 👀👀
LMAO. yall so cute <3 so good for my ego and self-esteem.
I've been creating ocs since I was like 14? 15?, bb. That's a lot LMAO. And that doesn't include one off characters from shows/books that I made my own when I played panfandom games. And if I were to do a somewhat honest list [lmao bc top five is genuinely hard.] I'd have to add ocs yall don't know.
But let's see. Um. In no order.
Tai Aeothryn: I don't even remember her. Don't even ask me to say her last name, because I made that SHIT UP. Tai started from a self-insert that became more energetic and meddling and pushy and etc than me. I played her in a Dark Hunters [yes, by Sherrilyn Kenyon] group. Totally lied about my age to get in [DON'T DO THIS KIDS!] and her FC was that actress from Passions. ROFLMAO. This is so funny, because I DON'T remember a lot but so much is coming back to me. ROFLMAO. Psychic damage right now. Tai was 19. And partially Haitian. BECAUSE OF COURSE! [Even tho her FC wasn't.] She was short and mouthy and probably could've done with more fear. She was probably the prototype of a lot of my OCs. She had a few cute nicknames that I don't recall. I know one was 'the Meddler' and I think the other was 'imp'?
So, Ima admit. I very much had a HP phase. A lot of my rp time was HP. It wasn't where I started [see above] but it is where i did most of my writing/met a lot of the people I still write with. THAT. SAAAAID. One OC that ended up surviving That Time was Maxwell B. He had too many surnames, one being Bianchi. How do I solve a problem like Max? Max was charming. I don't usually like to call my characters charming because I feel it's a matter of perspective. If I can get you to feel a character I see/hope will be charming as charming, then job well done. But Max was CHARMING. I feel in an olden days, people would call Max a knave or a rapascallion, but in an 'oh, you!!' sort of way. But the thing is, the most important thing, is Max wasn't half as charming as HE believed himself to be. He was a silly guy. And he knew it. It was part of his personality but it was also on purpose. He was "lazy" and a bit of a prankster, and seemingly, didn't take a lot of thing seriously, so don't go taking him seriously. Which often lead to underestimation of his character and his values [both a matter of his fault and people not looking beyond the surface]; but he was a flirt who was very respectful of boundaries and other's relationships, he was extremely loyal, and while not entirely book smart he was very observant and intelligent. I miss Max a lot sometimes. [Max while not the prototype, he was the culmination of previous prototypes lmao. I haven't done a character like him in a minute tho. Amos and Ferryn are the closest but Amos is an asshole. And Ferryn is -- not a good person. And Max was GOOD. I also don't play either a lot, lmao.]
Andy Yasar.
Kendis [in all their variations]
I don't know who I would give the fifth spot to. There are OCs who I still roll in my head and who's dynamics and exploration still mean a lot to me [like Mason and Desiree, that I still tag. And Mason was proto-Irvin in a sense]. Others whose names I don't remember but who still gut punch me [I don't remembeer my own ocs names werw lmao. I don't remember any names]. However, I think I would have to give this to Spencer
Spencer, I've played in various forms. I loved her because she was basically my bitter, grizzled white man in a young woman's body. She had the daddy issues, the sarcasm, the dislike for socializing, the sharp brain. But she also CARED about her job and was SOFT with like the three [mostly one] people she cared about. She had scars physical and interal, but she still wanted to help people. She had a wicked sweet tooth, lmao. Lollipops were her cigarette. I kind of miss her. I want to write her somewhere but I can never quite get her to fit.
#anon#you're so sweet <3#i did my best not asking my friends and being like which of mine do yall like best give me five#roflmao#want to give you MY perspective#my indecisive perspective#grapes chars#meet my ocs#this was really just nostalgia bouelvard#most of these characters mean nothing to yall#sorry#i probably shouldn't have added kendis and andy but like i re do them too often NOT to include them#lmao#goodness this list COULD be longer and i really appreciated the walk down memory lane#sorry for the fact they mean zero to you anon lmao#wedr#i'd link journals/moodboards but i dont want to subject people to HP stuff lmao#my fave spencer tho was before the worst of the physical injuries [she damaged her leg]#when she was fresh faced and her daddy issues were raw#but she was mor eopen /weeps#tho i do love og antisocial spencer#whew#spencer liek max have been fifty different races and ethnicities ... actually like andy before i settled on can
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ok listen. LISTEN,
there are LAYERS,
atlantis is described in plato’s timaeus and critias, both of which you can read online for free because…plato; but, to summarize, in timaeus, the story of atlantis is presented within the frame of it having ultimately been relayed to the athenian poet solon by an old priest while he sojourned in egypt. i am simplifying here but essentially solon got to talking with his egyptian friends on the subject of history and found that things he considered ancient were to them practically recent history, and their notion of antiquity stretched almost unfathomably further back than his own, etc, the point is,
Thereupon one of the priests, who was of a very great age, said: O Solon, Solon, you Hellenes are never anything but children, and there is not an old man among you. Solon in return asked him what he meant. I mean to say, he replied, that in mind you are all young; there is no old opinion handed down among you by ancient tradition, nor any science which is hoary with age. And I will tell you why. There have been, and will be again, many destructions of mankind arising out of many causes; the greatest have been brought about by the agencies of fire and water, and other lesser ones by innumerable other causes.
[…]
As for those genealogies of yours which you just now recounted to us, Solon, they are no better than the tales of children. In the first place you remember a single deluge only, but there were many previous ones; in the next place, you do not know that there formerly dwelt in your land the fairest and noblest race of men which ever lived, and that you and your whole city are descended from a small seed or remnant of them which survived.
this is how solon’s pal sets up the story of atlantis. something something legends and fairytales scattered—ANYWAY, after a bit of a tangent about how fucking awesome athens is [plato, amiright] the priest gets to his point of describing the history of atlantis, which—in essence, again i am simplifying—goes like this:
in ye olden times the ocean was navigable by ship and dominated by an island nation called atlantis, which formed the hub of all travel across the sea and between other islands and made an “unprovoked expedition” (lol) against everybody else and so conquered most of europe, until they invaded athens and the athenians thrashed them so hard that “violent earthquakes and floods,” in only “a single day and night of misfortune” sank atlantis and dragged the athenian force down with her, leaving behind nothing but an impassable muddy shoal.
gestures at the great war, gestures at the CCTS, here’s a fun question: which of rwby’s four kingdoms sought to conquer the rest of the known world and nearly did, only to be utterly crushed in a final stand against the army led by the divinely-ordained king? and out of those two, which proceeded to develop the cross-continental transmit system that ushered in a new age of unprecedented global communication [ie, figuratively, travel, connection between nations]? yeah
(transmit, transit, aesops, ace-ops…)
i’ll spare you the ramble on the discourse timaeus gets into after this except to say that i do think rwby is vamping a bit on some of his ideas about creation; and move on to critias, which provides a rather more thorough description of atlantis. firstly i will note that atlantis is called that because it’s ruled by a king named atlas, not the atlas you’re thinking of, born to poseidon and a mortal woman, cleito. it’s literally just “atlas’s island.” tuck that away for later. anyway,
Looking towards the sea, but in the centre of the whole island, there was a plain which is said to have been the fairest of all plains and very fertile. Near the plain again, and also in the centre of the island at a distance of about fifty stadia, there was a mountain not very high on any side.
[…]
[Poseidon made] alternate zones of sea and land larger and smaller, encircling one another; there were two of land and three of water, […] so that no man could get to the island, for ships and voyages were not as yet. He himself, being a god, found no difficulty in making special arrangements for the centre island, bringing up two springs of water from beneath the earth, one of warm water and the other of cold, and making every variety of food to spring up abundantly from the soil.
[…]
Now Atlas had a numerous and honourable family, […] and they had such an amount of wealth as was never before possessed by kings and potentates, and is not likely ever to be again, and they were furnished with everything which they needed, both in the city and country. […] the island itself provided most of what was required by them for the uses of life. In the first place, they dug out of the earth whatever was to be found there, solid as well as fusile, and […] orichalcum, was dug out of the earth in many parts of the island, being more precious in those days than anything except gold.
[…]
First of all they bridged over the zones of sea which surrounded the ancient metropolis, making a road to and from the royal palace. And at the very beginning they built the palace in the habitation of the god and of their ancestors, […] until they made the building a marvel to behold for size and for beauty. […] All this including the zones and the bridge, […] they surrounded by a stone wall on every side, […] The stone which was used in the work they quarried from underneath the centre island, and from underneath the zones, on the outer as well as the inner side. One kind was white, another black, and a third red, and as they quarried, they at the same time hollowed out double docks, having roofs formed out of the native rock. […] The entire circuit of the wall, which went round the outermost zone, they covered with a coating of brass, and the circuit of the next wall they coated with tin, and the third, which encompassed the citadel, flashed with the red light of orichalcum.
[…]
The whole country was said by him to be very lofty and precipitous on the side of the sea, but the country immediately about and surrounding the city was a level plain, itself surrounded by mountains which descended towards the sea; it was smooth and even, and of an oblong shape, extending in one direction three thousand stadia, but across the centre inland it was two thousand stadia. This part of the island looked towards the south, and was sheltered from the north.
so, to sum up: atlantis is a circular or perhaps oblong island, naturally inhospitable but made into a paradise by the efforts of a god, organized in a series of vast concentric moats and rings of land, each surrounded by an outer wall [one black, one white, one red] of stone faced with metal; the material for all this construction was mined from underneath the kingdom itself, to the extent that whole sections were formed solely by excavation; the innermost ring contains a glorious temple honoring poseidon and cleito, the creators, which is inaccessible by mortal means; and the city’s incredible wealth is derived primarily from trade and mining.
😐
and why did atlantis sink into the sea? in essence, because its god left, and while you did highlight this i’m going to include the description in critias anyway because it is just so ridiculously on the nose,
There were many special laws affecting the several kings inscribed about the temples, but the most important was the following: They were not to take up arms against one another, and they were all to come to the rescue if any one in any of their cities attempted to overthrow the royal house; like their ancestors, they were to deliberate in common about war and other matters, giving the supremacy to the descendants of Atlas. And the king was not to have the power of life and death over any of his kinsmen unless he had the assent of the majority of the ten.
Such was the vast power which the god settled in the lost island of Atlantis; and this he afterwards directed against our land for the following reasons, as tradition tells: For many generations, as long as the divine nature lasted in them, they were obedient to the laws, and well-affectioned towards the god, whose seed they were; for they possessed true and in every way great spirits, uniting gentleness with wisdom in the various chances of life, and in their intercourse with one another. They despised everything but virtue, caring little for their present state of life, and thinking lightly of the possession of gold and other property, which seemed only a burden to them; neither were they intoxicated by luxury; nor did wealth deprive them of their self-control; but they were sober, and saw clearly that all these goods are increased by virtue and friendship with one another, whereas by too great regard and respect for them, they are lost and friendship with them. By such reflections and by the continuance in them of a divine nature, the qualities which we have described grew and increased among them; but when the divine portion began to fade away, and became diluted too often and too much with the mortal admixture, and the human nature got the upper hand, they then, being unable to bear their fortune, behaved unseemly, and to him who had an eye to see grew visibly debased, for they were losing the fairest of their precious gifts; but to those who had no eye to see the true happiness, they appeared glorious and blessed at the very time when they were full of avarice and unrighteous power.
the atlanteans became greedy and corrupt, democracy (such as it was) failed, the king seized power and sought to conquer and enslave the world, and the whole island ultimately collapsed and plunged into the sea in a violent calamity when their god abandoned them, permanently cutting off all the communication and commerce that had once flowed through its nexus.
LASTLY,
king atlas? poseidon’s eldest son by cleito? yeah he’s not the titan atlas, the one who fought against the gods during the titanomachy and was then doomed to hold the celestial spheres on his shoulders, but of course he does share the same name; and of course rwby’s atlas is led by the general of an army whose greatest historical achievement is having been decimated in a war against—well not quite a god, but you get the idea—and his office is decorated with constellations and lunar and solar motifs (note, the titan atlas did not hold the world on his shoulders, he held the sky), and throughout the first half of the atlas arc—before his rapid tailspin into doomed corruption—he is almost single-mindedly determined to reunite the world by uplifting a communications tower into the high heaves where (he presumes) salem cannot reach it… only to fail and be crushed when his kingdom is utterly obliterated by the abandonment of its creator. rwby’s atlas is atlantis ruled by a man who believes himself to be atlas telemon but turns out to be, after all, nothing more than a man who inherited the final corruption of the ideals mortal atlas was meant to uphold. “a city in the sky is held to a higher standard,” indeed.
RWBY volume 8 spoilers
Y’all Atlas was the city of Atlantis
You know how a lot of things in Rwby are based off of fairy tales and legends? I think this is another one of those.
“The legend of Atlantis is a story about a moral, spiritual people who lived in a highly advanced, utopian civilization. But they became greedy, petty, and "morally bankrupt," and the gods "became angry because the people had lost their way and turned to immoral pursuits," Orser says.” -From National Geographic. Then the city sank.
Familiar right? This is what happened with Atlas. They were a floating city, with advanced tech, near utopian in some aspects. But the people ,who were rich folks, were uncaring and cruel, we see that when Weiss returns after the fall of Beacon, and we see this especially with Ironwood.
#also something about#cleito hidden away by poseidon. the inaccessible sanctum.#and fria#and ambrosius locked behind the gilded door#also the rhetorical point of atlantis#is to serve as a moral foil to plato’s ideal polis—embodied in athens—so#the allusion works on THAT level too#ozpin raised atlas to serve as a symbolic ideal#emblem of the peaceful utopia he imagined#and in crashing and burning it laid bare all the corruption and failures of the system he created
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A PSA not for mcytblr but for the people actually outside of it!
Hello! My name is ivi and I usually do psa’s to help keep mcytblr’s different sections organized, and yes! There are different sections of the mcyt fandom aside from Dream SMP!
But clearly we are being very annoying to you! So have a nifty guide so you can be accurately angry and better block content you wish to not see.
I will define some useful terms under the cut just so this post isn’t long
What does MCYT mean?
It means Minecraft Youtuber. That’s it. This category has been expanded to include Minecraft Streamer as of lately but mcyt just means a person that creates minecraft content on the internet.
It includes names from the olden days of Minecraft like DanTDM, Captain Sparklez, Ihascupcake, Skydoesminecraft, Grian, VintageBeef, Ethoslab and so on and so forth.
It also includes more recent faces like Crumb Cuptoast, Niki Nihachu, Eret, Geminitay and so on and so forth.
It does include the crew from the Dream SMP since they are content creators that focus on minecraft (mostly). That said is important to note not everyone that creates minecraft content is part of the Dream SMP or even part of an SMP for that matter.
tags to block: mcyt/ mcytblr
What is an SMP?
It means Survival Multi Player. Aka a (usually) survival world shared by many players. Many people have played in SMP’s! Even I, yours truly. shared an SMP with friends and I’m no content creator.
The Dream SMP does fall into this category, a group of players play and roleplay on a world that first belonged to Dream
Hermitcraft is another popular SMP where a bunch of builders and redstoners play together
Shady Oaks SMP is another SMP where many OG minecraft players (like DanTDM) play together
Scicraft is an SMP composed only by redstoners taking the game to its technical limits
Empires SMP is an SMP where each player roleplays as the ruler of a different empire and we see shenanigans and demons happen
2b2t is an anarchy server and technically counts. Is just a server where no rules apply and it is basically a hellscape
And there are many SMPs! If you wish to block them blocking the mcyt term might work unless the SMP is not labeled then you might want to search for the name of that SMP and block it directly.
But most likely since you are looking to not see Dream SMP content you can block the Dream SMP, DSMP and mcyt tags and it will sufice
tags to block if you don't want to see content from ANY smp: dream smp, hermitcraft, shady oaks smp, scicraft, empires smp, bear smp, 3rd life smp, x live smp, origins smp, 30 day trial smp, cogchamp, mindcrack, mianite, vault hunters, and many many more but this bunch are the most populars so that should do.
What is an MCC?
MCC stands for Minecraft Championship, a monthly event created by the Noxcrew.
The Noxcrew is a small dev team that makes customized minecraft maps and mods and they even have some maps featured on the Minecraft Bedrock store.
This monthly event features 40 players playing in 10 teams composed of 4 players.
There are players from all across the scene in this tournament, even including a group known as the Simmers (4 players known for playing the sims rather than minecraft) and in one iteration of the Championship 8 viewers had the opportunity to participate.
This championship has no cash prize, only a trophy coin and bragging rights.
Dream and co are usual competitors but they are not the only people competing here.
Tags to block: mcc/ mc championship/ minecraft championship
Dream SMP
Aha! probably the reason you are here!
Dream smp is a survival multiplayer server started by youtuber Dream to play with friends, this server would later evolve into the roleplay and narrative driven server it is today.
There are 32 members on the server, you are probably tired of dream so you can block the dreamwastaken tag, and if you wish to not see anything from any of the other 31 members you can block the following tags
Tags to block: dreamwastaken, georgenotfound ,sapnap ,callahan, awesamdude, dropsbyponk, Badboyhalo/BBH, tommyinnit ,tubbo , itsfundy/fundy, punz, purpled, wilbursoot, Jschlatt, skeppy, the Eret, jackmanifold, nihachu, quackity, karljacobs, hbomb94, technoblade, antfrost, philza/ph1lza, captainpuffy, connoreatspants, vikkstar123, lazarbeam, ranboo, foolishgamers, hannahxxrose, slimecicle, michaelmcchil
Note. If you add to the above list of name a c! And cc! At the beginning of each name you can further block the content as the fandom often uses the c! (Character tag) and the cc! (Content creator tag) to better organize its content
For example to block Tommyinnit’s tag it would be worth blocking the tommyinnit, c!Tommyinnit, cc!tommyinnit, c!Tommy and cc!Tommyinnit tag
Hope this was helpful!
#mcyt#mcytblr#just so it circulates and reaches the outside#if one is going to be angry why not be angry AND informed?
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Could I get Knight! Kenpachi and Princess! Reader, otome scenario first meeting please! I hope I read the rules correctly jejdnfnf
YES! Y E S!!!! anon this is SO big brained. Oh my god. Please feel all the freedom to request more prompts for knight!kenpachi.
notes: a first meeting for the game’s surroundings, premise, protagonist, and Kenpachi all wrapped in one. Ah, the divine struggle between duty and lusting after + growing to love one fine motherfucker.
i thought of setting this in a Japanese inspired castle, but I know myself and I would get too caught up in being ‘accurate’. instead i’m gonna stick to what I, a filthy fantasy casual, know.
features: SFW content and some olden day vibes.
Bleach Your Heart: The Otome Ask Game
Knight!Kenpachi + Princess!Reader + First Meeting
You are the only daughter and heir of the castle to survive childhood and beyond. Both your parents live, greeting you with love each day you break fast.
The castle you will one day be Lady of is two grey rectangles of stone connected by one laid on its side in the middle of them, encircled by walls so tall it winds you to climb up them. There is little grandeur in your surroundings beyond the luxury of a full belly and warm room, always. Even the flower gardens are built sturdy rather than pretty.
Life is uncertain in the mountains. But not you. Not within your walls, with your father’s defense strategum to support them. There is even a little town within the castle walls, something no generation before him could hope to maintain and protect successfully.
Your father, who has taught you maths, strategy, and how each part of the castle must be maintained with upmost harmony, has announced it is time.
For marriage. And for more protection.
He is not aging well, hands that once held firm a sword too weak at the wrist to pick up a bowl laden of soup. And those who would battle for his castle are growing more organized—more dangerous.
And He is King before being your father, so you do not fuss even if you feel the weight of his responsibilities crushing you into a curtsy.
Those he will make knights the next morning now sit in the dining hall, eating perhaps their first meal of its kind. There are whole birds on the table, roasted well, and garnished with fresh greens meant to bring crisp freshness to the juicy meat. Thick stew and bowls of berries serve to fill any stomach that the birds do not satisfy. Not grand, but plenty.
You stop at the western entrance, wearied by worries of the future.
There is seldom so much noise as now. The men, all wearing some form of leathers and bits of mail, seem more aflame than the scones that flicker on the walls. You easily spot the newcomers—those who are already knights have been for most your life and are comparably calm.
A man with no hair and colorful makeup springing from the corner of his eyes like wings bangs his tankard on the table one—two—three times after gulping it down in seconds. Yells his victory and calls for another.
The man across from him, hair of oil and feathers truly decorating his eyes, throws a berry at the bald man’s face. It misses.
The bald man turns his head, laughing, to watch the fruit sail past him, and spots you. He waves, calling something you can’t understand, words unfamiliar.
Your hands untangle from behind you and one springs up to return his gesture before you can remember that you are in a doorway, where anyone could be behind you. Perhaps he is being friendly and grateful, you think, for your father choosing him, when so many trained up warriors from your land and the next struggle to find a place with no official war to guide them anymore.
A deep chuckle behind you is all you need to remember your surroundings. You turn, eyesight not filled, but overwhelmed by the height and lean bulk of the man meant to receive the greeting you took for your own.
“Oh,” you say after moments of staring, voice quiet and faraway sounding to your own ears. “Greetings.”
The side of his face where a long scar is carved into skin--above, below, and through his eye--is more lifted into smile than the other. A patch covers his other eye, held by nothing; seemingly nailed into his face by metal studs at the edges of the fabric.
It is not his appearance, punctuated by wild black hair sticking out at the sides like a wolf pelt does at one’s back, but his smile that hushes your manners and leaves you standing there--staring.
The smile is too wide and open. You can not help but remember Martha, who’s smile split her face similarly when hearing that her husband had not returned due to the cold rather than an enemy. Her usually puckered lips had bared her teeth as she laughed harsh, breath white and swirling into the cold air.
He had a smile that spoke of madness.
You heard Martha’s laughter as he acknowledged your words with a nod, asking, “Ya lost or something?”
“Lost,” you say in an echo, eyes drawn to the thin sword at his waist. “N-no. Not at all. I am princess to this castle.”
He laughs, the sound mingling with that which had begun to haunt your ears, as he shrugged. “Guess you’ve never seen a real warrior, then. Thought so, with all the stiffs you’ve got lazin’ around.”
The comment rouses you from where you’d retreated into yourself, drawing your eyes narrow. “I can see you are from across the mountain and perhaps you’ve different ideas of what a true fighter is, but know that all who protect this castle are genuine warriors.”
“Protect? I’m here to fight,” he says, gripping the hilt of his sword and shaking it for emphasis. “That’s what your daddy promised us. Is he a liar?”
“W-no; of course he isn’t,” you lift your chin, responding with gusto. “My father is an honest man and king.”
The man snorts, his head bowing toward the tables of familiar men who had accepted your fistful of flowers and paraded you around on their horses as a child, “They wouldn’t last as a warm up against me.”
“You won’t be fighting them,” you say, eyeing his crossed arms, wanting so much to reach out and smack one of them. “Surely, you must know protection comes before everything? Don’t they teach you that from wherever you come from?”
“Anything I know, I taught myself,” he grunts, smile gone. “And I know a real fighter when I see ‘em. Just like I know I wasn’t hired to sit and wait for a battle to come my way.”
Your father’s words in the throne room pressed you once more and forced a sigh from your chest. “You were hired to escort me to court, then.”
“Yeah, promised a lot of danger along the way, too. Always fun to be had on the edge of a kingdom.” He spoke with utmost confidence, leaning closer than any real knight would dare.
Your father had chosen this man, so you would not ask him to reconsider, but hearing him speak of killing as though it were as much a hobby as needlework or jousting made you bristle.
But you would not let your anger sit on your tongue or coat your words. It would be unwise to lash out against the person who would be a great part responsible for your future safety.
“If you are so great a warrior,” you say slowly, “and the one who will escort me, then it is an honor.”
You dip into a curtsy, listing off your proper title and name before inquiring for his.
“Zaraki Kenpachi--ah fuck, it’s backwards here, ain’t it,” he mumbles, looking to the side, his smile small and human. “Kenpachi Zaraki.”
“Lovely to meet you, Kenpachi Zaraki,” you say, hardly meaning it.
“Nah, you don’t like me at all,” he says as he passes you, large hand giving your back one firm pat. “Do ya, princess?”
#kenpachi zaraki#kenpachi zaraki x reader#bleach imagines#bleach x reader#bleach your heart: the otome meme#oh my GOD WAS THIS SO FUN#please don't pay attention the absolutely BOTCHED manga girl#i did my best with my shitty mouse work aslkdjf;owliaejf
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my first and last || huang renjun
¤ pairing : huang renjun x reader
¤ genre : fluff, slight crack, major angst, romance, drama, slight fantasy! au, slight coming of age!au, first love!au, slight 1880s!au, adventure!au, painter!renjun x street singer!y/n. runaway!au
¤ synopsis : Huang Renjun was born on the coldest day on earth, which causes his heart to be frozen solid, requiring a replacement. The makeshift Doctor, Madam Wendy, who provides midwifery and medical services to the poor and the desperate of Edinburgh, grafts a miniature cuckoo clock in order to save it.
However his newfound cuckoo clock heart was so fragile that it could end him in a terrible fate of death if he does not follow the three rules said doctor had provided for him. One of which was he must never fall in love. Do come and enter this adventure through Renjun’s eyes as he falls for a street singer who hates wearing glasses despite of her poor eyesight.
¤ warnings: character death, HEAVY angst, mentions of blood, loss of family member, reader has terrible eyesight and is painfully oblivious, Madam Wendy mentions about her abortion, maybe some swearing (do people even swear in the olden days?), historical inaccuracies is sexy, heartbreak, renjun is mentally exhausted, mentions of taking ones life (once), adults smoking, reader wears glasses at the end. shakespeare shaming because i have a grudge against that man. hISTORICAL INNACURACIES. Renjun gets slapped by Wendy once, renjun gets hypothermia. i feel like this was quite rushed idk
¤ word count : 29.2k
¤ heavily inspired by La Mécanique du cœur (the movie, not the novel because I’m not that cruel)
¤ playlist: my everything - nct u, instagram - dean, wayo - bang yedam, francis forever - mitski mitski, anxiete - pomme, faded in my last song - nct u, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, moi cest - camelia jordana, my first and last - nct dream, beautiful time - nct dream,
¤ a/n: special thanks to @lebrookestore for making this sexy header
‘Love. What does that feel like?' Renjun would always wonder.
As his paint brush strokes the canvas, eliciting a bright yellow mark on the object, Renjun continued to stare into his painting with a void of emotion. Whenever the occasional question 'what does it feel like to love or to be loved?' pops up in his mind, he would often furrow his brows and purse his lips in a small pout in confusion at the thought.
Renjun didn't know what it felt like to love, for his caretaker, Madame Wendy, had always told him since he was a young boy that 'love is the last thing you need in this world, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.' Renjun didn’t care much for the aspects of love. How can he fall in love when he doesn’t even know what love is? What does it feel like to feel love? How can you feel love?
If you take one small glance at Huang Renjun, you would instantly have the assumption that he was a rather cold-hearted, emotionless young boy. Eyes so icy cold and void of emotion, it could send shivers down your spine. Though, fortunately for everyone else, it was quite rare of the young boy to walk out of his home. Some might say that he would step out of his home ‘once in a blue moon’ or whenever the sun shone brightly over the old town, which was quite rare considering it had been raining frequently these past few months in Edinburgh, France.
However, what they didn’t know was that the reason behind his infrequent appearance was quite tragic. He was an unfortunate young boy, really. Only a few people have known this, but long long ago, a sudden harsh snowfall hit his town on the day he was born. It was recorded as the coldest day on earth, for the snow had frozen everything in its path including the poor boy’s heart. Quite literally, not figuratively.
Renjun’s biological mother had journeyed through the cold town to the house up the steeple. Rumors say, the quote unquote ‘witch’ of the town, who specialized in the medical department with her own unique ways that left doctors skeptical and poor. From what his caretaker had told him, she was holding her belly throughout the long journey as she tried her best to endure the cold without slipping on the frozen concrete. Muttering how if she could, she would’ve kept her child in her tummy safe and sound from the cruel world.
How she slipped and fell unconscious in front of his current caretaker’s house with her tears frozen on top of her cold cheeks, how she was brought in and taken in just in time to warm up to gain consciousness and go through the birth process. He remembered being told how the moment he was born, he had to undergo intense surgery immediately for he almost didn’t survive. He remembered being told that his heart had turned cold.
“Cold, not Gold, Renjun. A heart made of ice. As in cubes not cream,” as his caretaker would say.
Since donors weren't available at the time as it was already way past midnight, he needed surgery before his heart stopped beating under the hard exterior of the ice growing around his heart. Luckily for him, Madame Wendy had improvised one with her excellent expertise. She built a small clock the size of her palm that nearly covered his whole chest at the time. Considering she was known for being a witch in town, (even though she tried to explain a countless amount of times that she was a mere mechanic with a medical degree) she miraculously provided him with a fragile heart made from scratch.
However, the night of his birth was also the night his mother had decided to leave him with Madame Wendy, convinced that she would make a better mother for Renjun that she could ever have. It was quite a tragic tale. However, Renjun didn’t think much of it. Nor did he feel any sort of upsetting emotions like longing, curiosity and sadness. Why would he? He doesn’t even remember what his biological mother had looked like. He doesn’t know how to feel anymore other than the faux happiness his mother had taught him how to feel to ease the numbing feeling in his hollow, ticking heart held nothing but dust.
A heart that was purely made out of strong wood, cogs and screws. One that makes soft, calming tick tocks that goes along with the soft pitter patters of rain drops with every beat, one that makes cuckoo’s every time it’s arrow struck 12. One that needs winding every single day with a golden key his caretaker had provided him ever since he was born. One with ironically three rules that he should always follow on a day to day basis.
-
“Recite those rules once again, Renjun,” she ordered as she buttons up her adoptive child’s white shirt up to his neck. “Do I have to? I’ve been reciting this for years now,” Renjun would whine, looking down at his mother’s loving hands as she flicked her forehead softly with a face void of emotion. “It’s for your own good, Renjun. I can’t have you forgetting something this important, you know very well that your life depends on these three rules.” She tugged on the collar of her child’s shirt down.
“Before I let you run off to town with me, I prefer that your heart would be much stronger,” she swiped her fingers through Renjun’s hair, swefting it to the side to make it neat. “Every beat of your heart is a minor miracle. You’re a fragile piece of work, far more fragile than glass,” the older woman explained, laying her hands on the boy’s shoulder with a grim expression. “I know,” Renjun replied with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders to release tension in his body.
He sighed again, the young boy looked up at the ceiling to avoid his mother’s cold stare. “Firstly, never touch the hands of my heart,” he began, letting out an annoyed sigh as he felt his mother tucking his small key into the pocket sewed on his chest. “Yes, what else?” Madame Wendy asked, kneeling down to look at the child in the eye. “Keep your temper under control,” they recited in unison with the same emotionless tone.
“And the last one?”
“Whatever I do, I must never ever fall in love.”
“Indeed, that’s why I’m so scared of letting you into town. You haven’t experienced love yet so far in your life, it is very important that you stay that way,” she said, standing up on her feet as her hand returned to Renjun’s shoulder. “I know,” he mumbled once again, looking up at his caretaker’s eyes as if to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening a total hundred percent to what she was saying. “It could be the very death of you, Renjun. Your fragile heart won’t be able to stand the emotional, mental and physical shock provoked with the feeling of love,” she explained once again, a worried expression glossing over her face.
“I know, I know. You tell me that almost everyday,” he muttered, playing with the small buttons on the clock that is his own heart. “My heart is not a toy, therefore it is not to be played with.” he almost rolled his eyes at the older woman, feeling her smack his hand away from his heart softly. “It is something that I want you to take seriously, Renjun,” she hissed, eyeing the small mechanic artwork on the boy’s chest. “How can I even fall in love when I don’t know anything about love?”
-
To Renjun, today was like any other day of the year. The sun shining brightly against his skin, the cloudy grey sky accenting the sky’s beauty. His hair gelled to the side to reveal some of his forehead and leaving a few strands of his hair to tickle his skin perfectly, his calloused hand gripping his 60 x 90 cm canvas and his large box of acrylic paints to his side, his favorite paintbrush hanging against the skin in between his ear and his fluffy short hair.
Spinning one of his smaller paint brushes in his free hand, right between his fingers as he walked down the sidewalk of his home town, trying to find a spot to sit and paint. It was his birthday recently, so his mother had delightfully just bought a fresh new set of acrylic paints, considering he finished them on his last painting which was the majestic dove fountain in the middle of the town less than a month ago.
Renjun was only ten years old when his caretaker took him out to wander around town, which was on his birthday. It was then when Renjun was hitting the age of thirteen when his caretaker’s worry lessened when she saw that her child was nowhere to the point of Cupid’s next target. Therefore those annual town visits turned into monthly visits (under his caretaker’s supervision, of course) and when Renjun had turned thirteen years old, he had shown an interest in painting and drawing in his free time while Madame Wendy was working with a patient.
However, love can strike at any moment. And by the time Renjun became sixteen years old, he was finally allowed to venture into the town himself to paint landscapes and buy more art supplies at least once a week with a 5-6 PM curfew. Nothing more, nothing less. Cupid was cunning, therefore she believed that this was the best she could do. Considering he was a teenager, she couldn’t protect him as easily as she could back when he was still an infant. And that was what she had feared the most in her life.
Renjun sighed heavily, looking around with emotionless eyes, a cold frown forming upon his lips as he leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow supporting on his thigh and his other free hand holding the canvas on top of his legs. He wondered if there was more to life than work and oil paints, eyes wandering on the busy streets filled with the latest carriages and the latest transportation vehicles. He felt as if his life had gone by boring and aimless without knowing how to express his emotions properly. Is this what life has come to in his 16 years of living?
16 years of being almost completely isolated from this town without knowing what his caretaker was so worried about. Madam Wendy had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Renjun had witnessed love from time to time in the streets, watching a couple of different genders walking down the streets with loving expressions on their faces. Renjun could not decipher why you would be feeling such emotions. He had been venturing around town freely with his strict curfews for almost four months now. And all he’s done so far is wander around looking for something interesting to be his next muse or visit the local library to read books.
One of the books Renjun was absolutely fascinated on reading was this book the librarian had recommended to him on his first visit, ‘The Great Expectations’ by Charles Dickens. It was a small story of a young boy named Pip who went through amazing life changing experiences and going through hardships with his rather abusive sister, his blacksmith mentor and falling in love as well with a girl named Estella. (He would always snicker whenever she comes up in a scene as her adoptive parent, Ms Havisham, ironically reminded him too much of Madam Wendy)
He often wondered if Madam Wendy’s strong dislike towards the aspects of love was merely because of his fragile condition or was it because of something deeper? However, looking back at when he found his caretaker’s family albums which were mainly pictures of her winning awards and bragging about her medical degree, he highly doubts it. (It was still fun to imagine theories while it lasted, though!)
“Ms Havisham stares at Pip coldly, and murmurs to the girl at her side: ‘Break his heart, Estella. Break his heart!’” Renjun read, his eyes moving as he read the brief summary at the back of his book. Looking down at the cuckoo clock heart hidden under his cardigan, he clicked his tongue before chuckling bitterly to himself. “‘Break his heart’, huh? What utter bonkers, you can’t break someone’s heart. That isn’t physically possible,” he shook his head in amusement, placing his book on top of the box of acrylic paints beside him.
Just as he was about to leave and head back home, a peculiar merry tune reached his ears, causing Renjun to pause in his step, looking around to find the source with furrowed brows. If this was like those small street cat sketches he would draw in his free time, it would seem like his ears perked up in slight interest. The merry tune turned on a bright spark inside of the young boy’s chest, curiosity growing in his veins at the tune he has never heard before. It was as if the angels above had descended to the earth while playing a symphony of flutes and harmonicas, making soft high pitched catchy tunes in the air.
Renjun felt entranced by the music, it was almost as if it was pulling him- beckoning him to come towards it, towards its source. It was as if his feet had a mind of his own as he fought with his own rational thoughts to either go back home or find the source of the beautiful merry tune. He couldn't help but walk to where it's coming from, curious of who was making such a wonderful tune. Sooner than later, he found himself walking down a small alley that led him into a steep staircase that led him to another part of his town. And with every step he took, the music grew louder and louder. Soon, finding light at the end to see the small part of town he rarely visits.
He put his palm on the dirty brick wall, ignoring the uncomfortable texture against his skin, head poking out as he tried to decipher where the majestic music was coming from. Squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight for the staircase was dim enough to be mistaken for a tunnel with the broken rooftops covering the ceiling, he took a step forward. His eyes widening slightly in awe as he watched a young man his age push away a stack of crates to reveal the true source of music.
A young girl, who Renjun figures is around his age, was cranking up a barrel organ right in front of the fountain. A hand going in circular motions on the crank, twisting the lever as she pulls it clockwise. The hand on her hip was soon placed on her chest when the music went on, clearing her throat softly as she began to sing along and harmonize with the melody.
Renjun stood still in his place, baffled at the daunting beauty presented before him. The girl standing a few meters away from him was singing along merrily to the tune of the phonograph record, cranking up the lever as the other townsfolk that was walking by began to gather around her, enjoying the harmony that goes along with her soothing voice and symphony of flutes and harmonicas being produced by the portable barrel organ.
As he sat down on the last step of the staircase to listen from afar, he couldn't help but pay close attention to the lyrics coming out of her lips. His paintbrush spinning in between his fingers as his mind focused on the words of the intro, smiling idly as he began to understand the words she was trying to convey.
My vision's not quite right
But glasses make me look a sight
Enough to give the world a fright, like a sprite wearing specs
Renjun couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion. 'A sprite wearing specs? What the hell was that supposed to mean?' he pondered to himself as he found himself sitting at the last step of the staircase, leaning his white canvas against the dusty brick walls before putting his palm against his cheek, his elbow supported right above his knees as he gazed in awe at the little singer.
His pupils never moved away from the young girl who began to twirl around with her hands on her hips. And that girl was you. He watched as you danced and sang as if you were in your own little world, almost clumsily bumping into an old man carrying two heavy wooden crates in his arms. He chuckled at the sight, a soft smile stretching across his face as he watched the girl apologize for almost bumping into him, making Renjun realise that she might have some sort of blurred vision with how she was squinting at the older man.
‘Or she might just be an idiot,’ Renjun thought with a deadpan expression, laying his chin on his hand as he let out a soft sigh. Renjun had been living in this town all his life, despite the fact that he rarely goes out of his own home. He’s sure that no one in this town would blast such a merry tune so shamelessly in public while dancing and singing around like a fool expressing themselves. And it was quite rare for someone to walk around with a barrel organ out of nowhere.
The music stopped midway when you let out a small yelp and clumsily tripped over your own feet as you turned to your barrel organ when the lever stopped turning, eliciting a soft giggle from Renjun. You let out a soft grunt, huffing as you ignored the slightly concerned looks of your audience. You stood up quickly, hands coming up to brush off the dust and debris off your skirt, tugging on your suspenders as you attempted to ignore the embarrassed red tint on your own cheeks as you tried to play it off as cool.
Renjun couldn't help but giggle at the sight, his cold emotionless expression morphing into one filled with the slightest bit of amusement. Though, it quite took Renjun aback when he saw you turn your head from your barrel organ to his figure sitting a few meters away from where you were standing, turning your head rapidly to find the source, raising a brow when your eyes met Renjun's. He stopped laughing when your eyes met briefly, eyes widening in shock as he began to fidget in his place as you began to waddle over to him, dragging your barrel organ with you.
Wait, were you going over to talk to him? How did you even acknowledge his existence? Did you hear him snicker at your silly antics? Even if you did, how could you even hear him with how busy your surroundings were?
You stood before him with hands on your hips, lips pursed at him. "What were you laughing at?" you asked, a slight pout adorning on your lips as you looked down at the boy who raised his brow. Renjun felt his words pile up in his throat, trying to think of something to say without offending or upsetting the girl before him, as his Seulgi and Irene (his caretaker’s weekly patients) had always told him that ‘once you anger a feisty lady, there’s no turning back!’.
Now that you were standing only a few inches away from him, he couldn’t help but take a small moment to observe your appearance more clearly. Renjun's eyes couldn't help but wander towards your figure, examining your facial features in full detail. The way the sunlight reflected upon your pupils, how your figure stood out that he could barely decipher that other people were present around them. The way your dress framed your body, lips pursed with a slight pout, eyelids fluttering softly as you blinked at him as you were waiting for a response. Renjun wondered how someone could look this entrancing.
"Hello? Are you listening to me?!"
Renjun blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. His mouth opening as his pupils went back up to catch the intense glare that the girl in front of him was sending. He closed his mouth when he realized he didn't know what to say in response, his mind turning blank when he saw you quirked one of your eyebrows up suspiciously. "I don't- How can you even hear me laugh from such a distance?" Renjun's voice faltered nervously, trying to avoid your question, furrowing his brows.
Your expression lightened slightly at the nervous boy, a bright smile of your own stretching across her face. "Out of all of my five senses, my hearing has always been the best considering I don't rely much on my eyes," you shrugged, sitting beside him on the last step of the stairs. Stretching your legs out as you used your palms to smoothen your dress before crossing your arms on your thighs and turning your head to look at the boy. "I saw you staring at me from a distance, was I that good?" you smirked, raising a brow.
“You saw me? I thought you said you can’t rely on your eyes that much?” he asked in a weak attempt to dodge your question once again. “I lied, some lady told me that you were staring at me even after this old thing gave up on me,” you huffed, kicking your foot lightly at the old barrel organ in front of you. “Stop dodging my question. I don’t want to assume that you were stalking me or something,” you turned your head back to the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, wiggling the finger in front of his face teasingly.
Renjun bit the inside of his cheek, a scowl forming on his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Don't get too cocky, I was just perplexed. I was baffled to see someone playing such a merry tune so shamelessly in this lousy, depressing town," he responded with a click of his tongue. "How so?" you asked, tilting your head in confusion at the boy before looking around at your surroundings. “This town doesn’t look that depressing to me. Just needed some lighting up, that’s all,” your positivity elicited another scoff from the boy.
Renjun turned to you, brows furrowed slightly, confused as to how you couldn’t see how this town was the literal epitome of the Great Depression itself. "You're not from here, are you? Come to think of it, I've never seen you around here before." Renjun asked with a curious expression, watching as a cheeky grin formed across your face. "You got me there." You let out a soft chuckle, shrugging shamelessly before gazing up at the cloudy grey sky.
"My parents and I just moved in today. They told me to run off and go dilly dally-ing around town so as to not bother them as they set up the whole place,” you explained, nodding towards your barrel organ. “I think I made a great first impression as the new lady in town, don’t you think?” you asked, giving him a sweet smile, ignoring how Renjun gave you an affirming shake of his head to say ‘no’ bluntly. “Well I definitely knocked your socks off, didn’t I? That’s enough for me!” you exclaimed brightly, clasping your hands together.
“You don’t even know me. I don’t even know you. And how would you know if I was moved by your oh-so-stupendous actions?” Renjun rolled his eyes sarcastically, gripping his canvas tightly as he spoke, looking down at his shoes. He had never spoken to someone his age before without being forced by his caretaker or having to meet them for the first time at Madam Wendy’s home. It was quite new for him to be talking to a lady as well, for most of them were too shy to even talk to the young lad for his cold glare struck shivers down their spine.
“The sound of your laugh was enough to convince me that my actions were indeed stupendous, good sir!” you shot back confidently, a proud smile on your face as you placed your hands on your knees. “Oh bother,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes once again at you, ignoring how the confusion he felt when the cogs and gears of his heart were speeding up in action. “I’m Y/n, by the way! It’s good to know I made a friend on my first day in Edinburgh. Perhaps my mini shameless performance wasn’t entirely fruitless!” you reached your hand out, gesturing for him to shake it.
Renjun looked at your hand for a brief moment, pupils gazing back up at your happy expression, raising a brow at you before sighing heavily. He pulled his hand from his canvas before leaning over to shake your hand gently, “Renjun. Huang Renjun,” he introduced, his tone emotionless. Your hand was warm and soft unlike his own dry ones. Your hand had small specks of dust, which he assumed were from the dusty lever of the barrel organ while his own was covered with dry acrylic paint from his previously wet canvas.
Upon the warm feeling surging through his body at the touch, he felt the tiny mechanical bird inside of his cuckoo clock heart burst out from his clock in response when his skin touched yours, the sharp wooden beak hitting the fabric of his jacket alarmingly. Thus making a small, almost inaudible ‘cuckoo’ that only Renjun (fortunately) heard.
"It’s lovely to be your acquaintance, Huang Renjun. Though, I must warn you, I might not be here for long. My family has been travelling from town to town for years, searching for something.” You told him, pulling your hand back to your side with a small shrug. “Searching? Searching for what exactly?” Renjun asked, watching your expression turned unreadable. You shrugged, leaning your cheek against your palm, your elbow supporting on your leg. “That’s the thing! I’m not quite sure, they won’t tell me.”
“A treasure chest, perhaps?” Renjun suggested, putting a hand on his chin in thought. “Perhaps so. Though, I’m searching for something myself, as well. I haven't found it yet and I doubt I'm going to find it here." you sighed simply, leaning your head up to gaze at the cloudy sky. Eyes watching as the sun was barely visible due to the thick grey clouds layering over it, signalling that it might rain soon.
"Well, what are you searching for exactly? Treasure? Money? Wealth is considered as a greedy sin in this town, so I don't think this is some place where you can find those." Renjun hummed, his hand going back to gripping his canvas as he felt the cogs and gears in his heart working faster than usual. Hell, he didn't know why he was so curious about this. This was none of his business, after all. This was your problem, why was he so keen on keeping the conversation going? Why was he so intrigued in a young foreign singer his age he’s just met?
You shook your head, sucking your lips into your mouth before pulling your bottom lip out in a pout. "I’m not a fool, Renjun. I'm not really interested in wealth or fortune. Though, telling you about my life goal appears to be too intimate for us, don’t you think? We just met after all. So all that I can say at the moment that what I’m searching for is for me to know and for you to find out," you send him a teasing smile, causing Renjun to frown and roll his eyes in annoyance, leaning back slightly before sending you a deadpan expression,
"Does your extravagant search involve spectacles? You might look like you might need them, I know someone that could handle that," he mused, his lips quirking up into a teasing smirk, causing a frown to display on your face. A dead panned expression morphing on to your facial features. "I may have really terrible eyesight, but that isn't a way to talk to a lady, Renjun." you pressed your lips on to a thin line, rolling your eyes at the boy as you let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head.
"Besides, I look terrible in them. As I said in my song, which I'm sure like all the other folks in this world that doesn't pay attention to the message I was trying to convey in my lyrics, it-"
"It makes quite a sight, enough to give the world a fright like a sprite wearing specs?"
You furrowed your brows as Renjun let out a sheepish smile with a raise of his eyebrow, teasing you as a baffled expression laid upon your features at his words. "You were saying, Y/n?" he mused, waving his hand, gesturing for you to continue with your words. Watching as your baffled expression morphed into an amused one. “Oh, that was quite charming of you, Huang,” you shot back with a flirty grin, causing the ticking of his heart to quicken against his chest, sending him small jolts of pain which he attempted to conceal with small chuckles.
"I’m surprised you were paying attention to my lyrics instead of enjoying my song like a normal human being," you huffed, pushing his face away with your palm against the side of his face, eliciting a small laugh from the boy beside you. "You really shouldn't play games with your sight though. They say a blurry vision will leave you in the dark," Renjun recited, remembering the words his caretaker had always said to him about the patients who come in their quarters using spectacles or glasses.
You shrugged innocently. "I prefer life all a blur than to look horrendous for a living. You and your pretty face wouldn't understand. Also, I tend to forget my glasses frequently despite the fact that my parents’ constant nagging to bring them around," you , causing Renjun's jaw to drop at your bold statement. He has heard compliments about his dashing looks ever since he was a young boy from Madam Wendy’s relatives but ‘pretty’ wasn’t one of them, he should’ve brushed the compliment off and focus on the context of your words and stop acting as if he hadn’t been complimented before.
But however, something about this felt peculiarly different than the times where his family complimented him on his charming looks.
"Pretty? I haven’t heard that one before," Renjun spoke rather hesitantly, still quite bewildered that a woman his age had shamelessly complimented on his looks to his face. Yet again, said woman has a terrible eyesight so he couldn't be too sure that it was a compliment. You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his softly. "That’s the only thing you got out of my words? Are you an insecure lad, Huang?" you chuckled, giving him a slightly sheepish smile. “Are you sure you don’t need spectacles?” Renjun snapped back.
"I’m just pushing your buttons! I assure you that even without my glasses. I can confirm that you are quite an attractive young man, and that’s saying something considering I’ve been travelling here and there for most of my life. I'm not as blind as a bat, you know." you giggled, clicking your tongue before adding on. "Besides, it won't make much of a difference, really. Even with or without glasses, I still see a very pretty boy," you joked, laughing lightly.
“Out of all the compliments you could’ve chosen, you decided upon the word ‘pretty’? Sounds quite feminine, don’t you think?” he asked, leaning his head to the side, looking at you with half lidded eyes. He realised that he didn’t mind being called pretty, he didn’t mind being complimented by you. Despite the fact that you two had just met. But he couldn’t help but wonder why you had decided to choose ‘pretty’ instead of the other synonyms of ‘attractive’.
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I think pretty can be used for anything. It’s just a word after all, why do things have to be differentiated by the littlest of things? It’s just a synonym of ‘beautiful’,” you shrugged, watching as small raindrops started to pour down from the cloudy grey sky, reaching your hand out to feel the water drops hitting and wetting your skin slowly. Renjun raised his brow at you, perplexed at how you could be so nonchalant about your terrible eyesight considering his caretaker would endlessly bicker until he was forced to use spectacles until his eyes magically got better.
"What's that odd pitter patter?" you mumbled, snapping Renjun out of his thoughts once again. His eyes widened when he realised that the sound of his clock heart ticking had increased, blending well with the sound of the rain as water began to hit the surface of the concrete. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone other than close relatives about his fragile condition, so his anxiety spiked when you turned to look at him, expecting an answer. "It's the rain." Renjun replied after a moment, gulping down his nerves before turning to you.
"Do you like the rain?" Renjun asked, gulping afterwards when he realised how your eyes softly bore into his with an unreadable expression, the eye contact making Renjun’s clock heart steam up a bit as the gears worked even faster than before. Sighing as you felt the cold breeze that comes with the rain send goosebumps across your skin, you rubbed your arms before looking back to the pouring rain. You shook your head, "getting wet? Not really."
"But the sound it makes? Yes. It always reminded me of how I used to play in the rain back when I was still in elementary school," you nodded with a soft smile.
The sound of the church bell pierced your ears, making Renjun’s eyes go wide when he realised that the clock had struck 6 pm. Quickly, he got up to his feet, his brushes almost slipping out of his fingers as he stumbled to get onto his feet. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him in confusion, furrowing your brows at the boy as he gulped nervously. “I’m fine, I shouldn’t be out this late,” Renjun shook his head, biting his lip nervously when he realized that the rain wasn’t going to halt anytime soon.
“I don’t think the rain is stopping anytime soon, I suggest you wait here momentarily if you don’t want to catch a cold,” you commented, standing up as well as you stretched your hand out once again to feel the raindrops hitting your palm, smiling softly at the nostalgic feeling that came with it. He clicked his tongue, cursing at himself for letting his curiosity get the best of him as he contemplated on running all the way back home soaking wet. He wouldn’t want to lose his new found freedom.
Muttering a small curse under his breath, he stuck his book under his canvas before hovering it over his head. “Are you going to run? It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” you exclaimed, eyes growing wide when you turned your head to see him taking a deep breath. “Pardon me, unlike you, I have curfews. My caretaker would have my head if I don’t go back home soon,” Renjun deadpanned, rolling his sleeves out as he felt shivers down his spine when the cold wind blew against his skin.
Right before Renjun was about to take a step into the pouring rain, you grabbed on the sleeve of his shirt, holding him back. “Wait, when can we see each other again?” you asked, eyes boring holes into the back of his head. He paused, his cuckoo clock heart ticking loudly against his chest at the small action. He slowly turned back to you, furrowing his brows as he felt the small machine heat up against his skin, causing him to wince slightly. Noticing his small reaction, you quickly dropped your hand, apologizing abruptly before clasping your hands before your hand.
“It’s just- I haven’t been in this town for very long and I really need a friend beside me. I’m not quite fond of being alone. I know we just met, but I hope that we could be acquaintances at least?” you grinned up, your bright smile sending ominous effects to his heart as he took a moment to process your words. Renjun started at your bright expression, small steam coming out continuously from his mechanical heart as the seconds went by. His eyes dart from the rain before back to your figure standing right in front of him, waiting for his answer.
‘Acquaintances?’
Renjun has never had friends before. His caretaker would introduce him to her client’s children from time to time but (luckily for Madame Wendy) he had never shown an interest in making colleagues. But for some reason, something inside him was pulling him to say yes to you. Something inside of him wanted him to try and get to know you even more. It felt wrong. It felt very wrong. But yet again, it felt so right.
Biting his lip, he gave you a soft smile.
“I have faith that we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”
-
“I just think it’s quite preposterous!” you exclaimed as you laid down against the smooth surface of the fountain basin. Renjun chuckled, pressing his paintbrush gently against his wooden palette to get bits of his white paint to add more details to his painting.
It's been a couple months since the day you met, and since then, you two have been growing closer by the day. Your friendship blossomed as the weeks went by. Madam Wendy wasn’t very fond when Renjun came home soaking wet after curfew, but she excused his actions when he told her that he just lost track of time at the library once again. A rare occurrence but it still happens from time to time, and considering Renjun barely lies to his caretaker, she believed him when he told her so.
Every once a week, the two of you would meet up on the same exact spot as the day you first laid eyes on each other. Renjun assumed that your house was closer considering you were always there first, twisting the crank of your barrel organ, kicking your feet as you sat on the fountain base to wait for him to arrive in your usual dark magenta dress (which he assumed to be the uniform of the school you were attending). The two of you would always walk around town, searching for spots to relax yourselves and talk about random things as you watch Renjun paint whatever that catches his eye. Overall enjoying each other’s company as if the two of you were in your own personal little bubble.
“What’s so preposterous about the infamous Romeo and Juliet, exactly?” Renjun asked, chuckling as he dabbed the brush on the canvas, blending the colours of the sky on his artwork. You clasped your hands together, huffing as you scoffed at him. “Ever since my school made us all read Romeo and Juliet for the next literature exam, I just realise how horrible this trope is,” you tossed your book to the floor with a click of your tongue, hopping off of the fountain to walk closer to Renjun.
“Do explain why you think so,” Renjun giggled, watching you dip your finger against the white paint on his palette and kneeling down to smear it against the title on the front cover of your book with a frown on your face. “Why are the females always quote unquote ‘damsels in distress’? It’s very misogynistic if you ask me!” you tsked, grabbing your book and leaning forward to show Renjun the front cover of the book. “Mister Shakespeare was truly a legendary fellow to create a piece of writing this famous, but why use poor unsuspecting 14 year old Romeo and Juliet as the female protagonist?” you complained.
“Why couldn’t it be ‘Romeo romeo, let down your hair!’ instead of ‘romeo romeo, where art thou?” It seems a bit more fair to me,” you joked, causing Renjun to furrow his brows at you. “It might be quite improper for a boy to have tremendously long hair, y/n,” he had to lay the back of his hand against his chest in an attempt to calm down his mechanic heart, feeling it heat up against his skin as he noticed how close the proximity between you were. You scoffed at the boy before you, standing up straight and letting the book hand in between your fingers.
Putting your hands on your hips, you walked in front of him, covering his view of the town. “Well it doesn’t give Mister Shakespeare a reason to give the story an unhappy ending. The despair it brings when you found out they both died in the end? Absolutely preposterous, why would anyone like books with such unhappy endings?” you added on, poking your book with a scrunched up expression, bringing a smile upon Renjun’s lips as he found your figure poking the book in your hands as endearing as watching an small innocent child playing with their own food.
He sucked in his lip, taking a moment to admire your beautiful form. The gears in his mechanical clock worked faster as his eyes wandered to your slightly pouting soft lips, wondering how soft it would feel against his own. He cleared his throat when he felt a sharp pain scorching through his chest when he realised he was starting to imagine things, patting his chest softly as he tried to bite back a smile.
“Maybe you just haven’t read true masterpieces,” Renjun responded after a pregnant pause, opening his little bag and pulling out the novel he’s been obsessed with for the past few months, placing it in your palms. “Read this, you can thank me later,” Renjun smiled, patting the book in your hands with a light chuckle, looking up into your eyes for a brief moment before looking back at his canvas. For he feared that if he stared into them any longer, he would simply get lost in your eyes for ages, wincing silently when his chest started to ache.
“‘The Great Expectations’? This sounds like those tedious books my parents keep on their shelf,” you raised your brow, sitting down on the fountain again as you began to observe the book in your palms, squinting your eyes at the summary written at the back cover of the book. “‘Break his heart, Estella! Break his heart!’ That sounds so cruel of her to break an innocent boy’s heart,” you frowned, looking up at your friend with the adorable frown Renjun came to endear.
Renjun laughed, shrugging simply as he went back to painting. His fingers twitching against the brush as he coloured white clouds on his piece, feeling your eyes curiously on his content form. “You didn’t want the female protagonist to be the damsel in distress, did you? I just simply gave you what you asked for,” Renjun shrugged, feeling his heart do somersaults as you let out a loud huff of breath, scooching closer towards him so you can begin reading the book. “I suppose so,” you muttered under your breath.
“Do you carry books like this around with you as you paint or are you a magician who can pull out rabbits out of that bag of yours as well?” you asked jokingly, pulling the cover open and flipping to the first page. “I-Wait hold on, a magician as well?” he furrowed his brows at you, turning his head towards you and leaning his head to the side in confusion. You shot your head up, giving him a bright expression as you nodded eagerly.
“You might have half of the town convinced that you’re some cold hearted teenager living with the ‘witch’ or the makeshift doctor, as you would like to say, but you can’t fool me, mister! We may have known each other for less than a few months but I know for a fact that you are a magician!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, wiggling your index finger around, your fingertip hovering right above his nose before poking it with a small ‘boop; coming from your mouth.
He furrowed his brows, gently pushing your hand away from his face with a raised brow. “Do you mind explaining why you have come to that conclusion?” Renjun asked, an amused expression spreading across his features as he dropped his brush into the cup of water set right beside him before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning back slightly. You grinned, “you’re one of the few people I’ve ever known who can paint so majestically. Have you seen your own paintings, Mister Huang Renjun?” you exclaimed, giving him a wide smile as you threw your arms up in the air.
He chuckled, adjusting the beret on top of his head. “You don’t know many people, y/n,” he commented with a small smirk on his lips. “Let me finish before I usurp you, Huang,” you frowned, furrowing your brows and squinting your eyes threateningly at him. “I doubt that you even know what usurped means,” Renjun chuckled, shaking his head profusely at you. “Don’t doubt my low vocabulary, Renjun,” you crossed your hands, letting his book lay on your lap as he let out a soft laugh.
“Alright, what are you going to usurp me from exactly?” he asked smugly, raising a brow at you. “That’s not the point of this conversation, what I’m saying is that you and your aesthetically pleasing art skills are magical!” you shot back in a snappy tone, avoiding the fact that you used a word that you don’t entirely know the meaning of. (considering you only heard it from your mother when she was talking to someone on the phone every morning whenever your father was off at work)
He swore he could feel the ticking of his tock stop for a few seconds at your words. “Pardon?” he spluttered, putting his hand on his chest once again as he felt the gears in his cuckoo clock turn rapidly against his chest. “The way you carefully apply to each and every detail on every crevice of your canvas is like magic, the way you know how much paint you should apply to get just the right colours and the way you focus on shading or blending the paints together to achieve the small shadows or to adjust the lighting of the painting is just-”
You paused before letting out a loud groan, “superb! I can’t even find the words on how to explain your magical abilities, the simplest way I can put it in my own way is that you are equivalent to a magician!” you waved your hands around at the canvas in front of the two of you, your eyes going wide in awe as you stared at the half finished piece as if it was the first time you had seen a rare jewel in person.
Renjun’s jaw dropped as he couldn’t find the words to express how flustered he felt. However, the way his cuckoo clock began to steam up was another completely different thing. He couldn’t help but look down shy at his own paint stained hands, wondering how you could find awe in something as messy as his artwork. “And it is an absolute crime knowing that you aren’t some kind of world wide painter, your paintings are absolutely beautiful!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him as Renjun stared wordlessly into your eyes.
He couldn’t help but notice how close you have gotten when you began on your unceremonious ramble about his art skills, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting up your eyes and down to your plump lips. Gulping silently, he scooched back a little bit, gripping the sleeves of his button up shirt tightly as he tried to take the ticking of his heart against his ears, a fuzzy feeling overcoming the slight jolting pain in his chest as he did so.
He watched your eyes go wide at his actions, realizing that you moved too far. “Oh crumbs!” you exclaimed, taking a large step back as you realised the close proximity between you attracted attention from the people around you, eyes watching you like a hawk. Some held disgust to see two teenagers of the opposite gender oh-so-close to each other as if they were going to share a sweet kiss. Some held awe in them, adoring the sight of the two flustered beings cozying up to each other like that. Some held shock as they had never seen the mysterious cold hearted boy who lived in the little house on the steeple that close to someone before.
“I’m so so sorry!” you rambled, feeling your chest swell up as you grew flustered by your own actions. “I didn’t mean to get over excited! It’s just that I was so happy to talk about your art knowing how you don’t think much of it but I just really adore your art and the way you paint- oh god that sounds very inappropriate of me to say. What I meant was-” your short nervous ramblings were cut off when you heard Renjun’s laughter filling your ears, the angelic sound sending warm feelings into your heart.
“Pardon me for laughing, but that really caught me off guard,” he threw his head back laughing, his cheeks flushing red from laughing too much as he held his stomach, wiping his tears afterward. Your jaw dropped at his amused laughter, embarrassment overcoming your nerves as you huffed angrily at him. “You absolute jerk, I thought I did something wrong and invaded your personal space or made you uncomfortable!” you exclaimed, putting your hands on your hips angrily, only eliciting even more laughter from the sweet boy.
“It’s really endearing that you find my art that interesting, you really did catch me off guard with your little outburst,” he chuckled, lifting his beret off of his head before running his free hand over his hair, putting the beret back on his head afterwards. You couldn’t deny how pretty he looked with that beret, but of course, you weren’t going to admit it (again) for the sake of your own pride. “I was just expressing my opinions like a normal person, you didn’t have to laugh at me like that, you know,” you crossed your arms against your chest.
“I wasn’t laughing at your outburst, I can promise you that!” he exclaimed, shaking his head at you, ignoring the searing pain in his chest as he stared lovingly at you. You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t help but notice the slightly sad glint on his pupils, but you chose not to ask about it, focusing on the topic at hand. “Then what were you laughing at exactly, Huang Renjun?” you asked, furrowing your brows at the brown haired boy, who smiled sweetly at you. Leaning his chin against his palm, elbow supported on his thigh.
“I couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet you looked while talking about the things I do in front of you as if I were moving the sun and moon with my own bare hands.”
-
“You know you have a lovely smile.”
Renjun looked up from his book in alarm, eyes wide at your sudden bluntness. “Excuse me?” he coughed, releasing one hand from the book cover to lay it against the rough surface of his clock heart hidden underneath his coat. “I really like your smile,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, putting the Great Expectations book on the desk you were sitting before laying your hands over the other, placing your chin on top of them before gazing up at him with an innocent shrug. “You’re being quite expressive today,” Renjun chuckled, looking at you with a perplexed expression, his brows furrowed as he kept his hand against his heart, suppressing the little bird inside from letting out a loud ‘cuckoo!’.
“I don’t like to lie, you know that, Renjun,” you pouted, raising your head up to give him a knowing look. Sitting up straight, Renjun shot you a boyish smile, looking back down at his book. “Why, thank you. That’s quite flattering,” Renjun chuckled, burying his nose in his book in a futile attempt to hide how flustered he felt. Putting the back of his hand against his mouth, he coughed to clear his throat before removing his hand and putting it on his nape to scratch on it nervously. “How are you liking the book so far?”
Renjun cringed at the slight waver in his tone, biting back his tongue as he heard you let out a small hum. “So far, it’s pretty engrossing. It perfectly depicts the image of a young male protagonist losing his child-like innocence through heartbreak and hardship,” you clicked your tongue, folding the corner of the page you were reading before flipping through the other pages to see how many you have left to read. “A compelling coming of age story,” you nodded with a slight shrug.
“Though, I still don’t understand why you recommended me this book,” you closed the book and placed it back down on the desk, furrowing your brows in curiosity. Renjun gave you a sheepish grin, shrugging as he went back to his own book before replying with a, “you’ll find out once you finish the book,” under his breath. You huffed in response, leaning your forehead against the hardcover of the book, letting out a dramatic sigh. He let out a silent smile, adjusting his glasses as he continued to read the last paragraph of his own book.
Your eyes glared holes into his head as if he was going to tell you if you glared at him long enough, but you realised that he was back into his own little world now that he was fully immersed into the plot. Your eyes wandered back to the canvas on top of the desk right beside him, his set of acrylic paints and brushes gathered up into a small pile. He had just finished his latest painting of the statue of the founder of this boring town, his artwork never failed to awe you.
“When I finally manage to finish the book, will you give me one of your artworks free of charge?” you piped up, outstretching your hand as you poked the canvas, trying to pull the large object towards you with a single fingertip in futility. Ever since you started spending your time watching Renjun paint while he listened to you rambling, you had often asked him to draw something for you for free. In which he would always reply with a brief ‘buy your own, acrylics are immensely expensive.’ before rolling his eyes and going back to painting.
He wasn’t completely wrong. Madam Wendy always grumbled on how paint prices are constantly increasing as time goes on. And whenever Renjun would make a quick trip to the art store just to buy another bottle of white paint, he would always suppress the urge to sigh heavily in front of the kind store owner who would grin innocently (despite the fact that they know full well that they were being absolute gooses for increasing the price as Renjun was going to buy their products nonetheless.)
However it came as a shock to the both of you when he muttered a small ‘fine’ under his breath. Eyes blowing wide as Renjun slowly looked up from his book and eerily turned to you, right before he could open his mouth to retract his words, you shot up to your feet. Catching the boy off guard as you leaned over to cover his mouth with your hands. “No! You are not taking that statement back!” you exclaimed, shaking your head aggressively as you gave him a wide mischievous smile.
Renjun furrowed his brows, eyes glaring daggers at you to let him go despite the fact that his gears were turning at a rapid speed at the feeling of your skin against his lips. “I’m not letting go unless you say yes,” you mused in a melodious tone, earning a shake of his head in response as he continued to send you his typical cold stare.
Renjun always had a really mean resting face, his eyes always managed to send cold shivers down everyones’ spines. However, there was something comforting in the way he looked at you. A familiar warm feeling blooming in your chest whenever he turned his head to look at you, even though his eyes barely held any emotion, even though his small chuckles and laughs held no genuine happiness in them, you couldn’t help but let a fuzzy feeling grow inside of your stomach. It was exhilarating.
“Come on, you probably have billions of canvases somewhere in town. Giving one away to your dearest friend shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” you whined, still refusing to remove your hand from his lips. He was internally enjoying the close proximity between you, but as the seconds went on, he knew his clock heart was going to burst out of his chest if he didn’t do something. With a small curse in his mind, he pulled your hand away from his mouth. “I would if you paid me. But considering you are currently penniless, I have to politely decline,” Renjun snickered, giving you a disgusted expression as he felt the heat around his mouth disappear into thin air.
You frowned, pursing your lips as you sat back down on your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “How could you do this to your most beloved friend?” you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for him to hear as you kicked one of the legs of the table in front of you childishly. Renjun chuckled, “‘Beloved’ isn’t even a word I would use to describe your existence.” Now it was your turn to glare daggers into his skull. “You’re incredibly mean, it’s almost bonkers,” you scoffed.
“I know,” he shrugged casually, pulling his chair back to stand up. “Now if you excuse me, I would like to wash up to remove whatever bacteria you have oh-so-unceremoniously blessed upon my skin,” he bowed, pushing the chair back in the table as he tugged on the cuffs of his coat, giving you a small grin. “My hands are squeaky clean, excuse me!” you retorted, putting a hand on your chest in faux offense. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/n,” he nodded, abruptly walking towards the washroom at the back of the library with a hand on his chest as the effects of his emotions finally took place inside his mechanical ticking heart.
As soon as Renjun turned to a corner, out of your line of vision, his whole body started twitching in pain. With a shaky hand he pulled back his coat to reveal the state of his clock. The hands of his clock were turning at a rapid speed, the small bird popping out of the clock and letting out a small ‘cuckoo!’. It was steaming up. Smoke was coming out of the contraption as if it was caught on fire. He felt like his chest was on fire. Renjun leaned his back against the wall, shakily blowing the smoke away and fanning it away softly with his hand.
What’s happening to him?
This has never happened before. What was happening to him? Why was he in so much pain? Why couldn’t he call out for help? Why couldn’t he make any sound?
Renjun wanted to cry out in pain, his body twitched as the tiny mechanical bird popped out of his clock with a loud ‘cuckoo!’. He gasped, patting his hands around his pockets for the key to his mechanical heart. He could hear the alarming ticking sounds of his clock with every second that went by, warning him something’s going to happen if nothing is done to stop this pain as he twitched in pain once again, clutching the clock with one hand, he felt something inside the pocket of his shirt. With a small grunt of pain, he fished out the small golden key inside.
He pulled his hand away from his clock, gasping for breath as the pain in his chest increased with every tick of his heart. He plunged the key into the small hole connecting the arrows of the clock, quickly turning it counter clockwise as the pain started to lessen. Once the pain subsided, he dropped his hand to his sides, panting in exhaustion as his eyes blew wide with fear, his gears were working at their usual pace once again. His chest felt numb, a small throbbing pain lingering somewhere inside of him.
‘What the hell was that?’
His eyes were glossy as he felt his emotions overwhelm his mind. His heart felt like it was going through a spin, as if the big hand of his core was going to pop out of his skin. His bones felt weak, as if it was about to implode at any second. The cogs and springs in his clock felt like they were about to explode.
The loud alarming ticking in his ears made him wonder if he didn’t pull out the key in time, would his cuckoo clock heart halt for good?
-
“I’ll be off now, Wendy,” Renjun announced as he hopped down the stairs eagerly, gripping his fresh, new, empty canvas to his sides with one hand and spinning one of his brushes in between the fingers of the other. “Oh, you seem in a bit of a hurry, Renjun,” a familiar voice cooed teasingly, her words followed by another giggle. Renjun paused in his step, mustering up the energy to form a small smile as he looked up at the two women giggling at him. “Good morning, Joy. Good morning, Yeri,” he greeted with a polite bow.
Joy and Yeri weren’t related in any way to Madam Wendy, but they are regular patients who would drop by weekly. And as far as he knew, they were one of the very few people who knew about his fragile condition (which is probably why they visit so often). “You look brighter than usual, what’s gotten you in such a rush, young lad?” Yeri grinned, sipping on her tea as she crossed her leg over the other with raised eyebrows.
“It’s just a small trip to town, I need to buy more acrylics as well,” Renjun lied through his teeth, feeling the gears in his heart work faster at the thought of meeting you at your usual spot. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, Renjun,” Wendy spoke up, attracting the attention of the three in the room with pancakes stacked on three individual plates. “Do sit down! It’s been quite a while since you had a chit chat with your lovely aunts!” Joy giggled, patting the extra seat beside her before looking at her friend, who nodded in agreement.
“I really shouldn’t interrupt-”
“Renjun, go sit down,” Madam Wendy coaxed, placing a hand on his shoulder and nodding towards the empty spot on the sofa. Renjun looked back at his caretaker before sighing heavily, placing his canvas and brushes on the table near the entrance door and walking to sit on the empty spot the women had saved for him. “I’ll be upstairs cleaning up, if you need me,” his caretaker informed before exiting the living room, leaving her adopted son with the other two women in the room.
“Okay, she’s gone!” Yeri exclaimed in a rather quiet tone before grabbing her fork and looking back at the teenager sitting beside them. “So how are you, honey? I just realised we didn’t even get to greet you last week considering you’ve been so busy lately,” Yeri hummed, shoving a spoonful of pancakes into her mouth as she spared a glance at Renjun. “Indeed! I assume you found something interesting in your great adventure in the outside world,” Joy giggled with an enthusiastic nod, causing Renjun’s eyes to widen.
Renjun let out a small chuckle. “You two make it sound as if I was a protagonist of some weird story,” he mused, digging into his own stack of pancakes as he felt a warm feeling in his stomach at the memory of the day you first met. “Don’t beat around the bush and tell us!” Joy rolled her eyes at the younger boy, grabbing her cup of tea and pulling it to her lips. “How was this great adventure you’ve discovered?” she asked, her eyes flickering from her tea to Renjun briefly.
Renjun bit his lip, scanning the room to ensure that Madam Wendy was nowhere in sight. He knew he could trust these two, considering the countless times he’s gotten away with his lies and rants. He bit his lip, glancing down at his hands nervously before giving his aunts a genuine smile. “It was fabulous,” he sighed dreamily, a sheepishly wide smile stretching across his lips as he took another bashful bite of his pancakes. “Tell all! Tell all! Don’t miss any details!” Yeri squealed.
“What made it all so fabulous?” Joy whispered, her eyes peering curiously at the boy who appeared to be in a dreamy state. “A little singer with glasses which she won’t wear,” he replied almost instantly without any hesitation, a little bit too fast for his liking. “She isn’t all that, is she?” Yeri gasped, leaning back slightly in shock to hear her little Renjun was talking about someone and not something.
He shot up, straightening his back as he dropped his fork on his plate with a shake of his head. “She is! She really is!” Renjun nodded eagerly, his hands coming up to make grand gestures as he continued on with his words. “She reminds me of a… sparrow! Perched up on the toppest tree branch in it’s tiny little feet, it gives her this calming fragile aura like a twig falling off of a branch. Her voice- her singing is like listening to a nightingale singing a bird song but with words! Or those soothing musical numbers they would always play in the telly after a good show has ended,” Renjun described, his eyes filled with stars and his heart filled with passion.
The two shared knowing looks, bewildered at how dazed the boy in front of them truly was at that moment. “And her smile it’s like a work of art! Far greater than all of my masterpieces combined, far greater than the artwork displayed on museums! Her laughter makes her seem so miniscule, I could hardly believe that such a light heartening sound could be elicited from a human being!” Renjun went on, his smile wide as he leaned back at the thought of your smile which made his stomach do somersaults.
“Oh Renjun, I bet that once she catches the flu, you’ll change your mind. Whenever women like those who catch the flu, they cough up a storm and sneeze like a steam truck,” Yeri joked, earning a brief frown from Renjun who scoffed in response. “Oh nonsense! I bet if she does, it would sound like a majestic flute found in the mountains!” Renjun waved his hand off with a roll of his eyes in disbelief.
The two women laughed in response, shaking a knowing look. “So basically, to sum everything up. You went to town and instead of catching the flu, you caught a bug in town, you young lad!” Yeri raised her eyebrow suggestively at the boy, indicating that he’s very much caught the love-bug she’s always ranted about on a daily basis. “Oh deary!” Joy gasped before letting out another fit of giggles, cupping her mouth to ensure that her giggles weren’t loud enough for Madam Wendy to hear.
“You know it’s forbidden,” Yeri lectured, her tone turning serious when she realised that Renjun was actually serious about this. “For-bid-den!” Joy emphasized with every wave of her finger with a disappointing shake of her head. “I know,” Renjun sighed, a frown forming at his lips as he sunk back against the seat he was sitting on, leaning his head back sadly. “It’s for your own good, you know,” Joy smiled sadly, sympathy lacing her tone as she patted the boy’s head comfortingly.
“Indeed. Oh deary, I wish I could live without love,” Yeri sighed, pulling out a mirror from her purse to reapply her lipstick. “Oh no, here we go again,” Renjun chuckled, sitting up straight once again as he prepared himself for another sad tragic love story his aunt has to offer. “Every day, every time I fall in love with a patient here or a man, they would always fall for some other girl!” Yeri ranted with a heavy sigh, smacking her lips together to get an even coating on her lips. “I am not letting Renjun listen to another one of your sob stories!” Joy huffed, leaning over to cup Renjun’s ears with her palms.
“You might taint the poor boy with your bad luck with love!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t my condition a symbol of this bad luck?” Renjun chuckled, gently tugging on the older woman's wrists to remove her palms away from his ear. “Oh hush you, I’m sure you’ll get over this little infatuation you have with this little singer,” Yeri waved her hand off nonchalantly, huffing slightly. “It’s not like you see her every day of the week, you’ll get over it in no time!” she added with an encouraging hum, watching as Joy nodded with her in agreement.
Renjun bit his lip, biting back his tongue as he continued to shove pancakes into his mouth as quickly as possible. At that moment, Madam Wendy finally came down with a key in her hand. “Renjun, I’ve always told you to bring your key wherever you go. Why won’t you ever take my words to heart?” Wendy sighed, handing the key to his mechanic heart to the young boy, who gulped slightly and mumbled a small apology under his breath before tucking his key in his front pocket.
He couldn’t help but shiver as the memory of him having a near death experience flashed through his mind, the image of the key plunging into his heart and winding it up to lessen the pain he endured had traumatized him. He was terrified of it happening again. He was terrified of what’s becoming of him. Was this the effects of falling in love? Was he falling in love with you? He hasn’t even known you for very long, he couldn’t possibly fall for you in such a short time.
Besides, why does falling in love feel so good but hurt so bad?
-
“So how was the book I lent you?” Renjun asked in an attempt to spark up a conversation. “Quite interesting, though, I’m not quite sure that I’ll finish it any time soon. I like to focus deep into the depths of the story, fully imagine the characters emotions and thoughts,” you exclaimed, pushing your organ barrel beside the tree Renjun was leaning against, sitting down beside him under the shade and crossing your legs, tugging the edges of your dress over your knees. You dusted the bits of dirt off of the fabric on your dress.
“I understand, it’s the thought process, right?” Renjun nodded, flipping a page of his book as he hummed. “Indeed! Though, I can’t quite get the gist of why Ms Havisham is so devoted to making Estella break Pip’s heart. She should’ve just left the poor girl alone, besides, I really don’t want to see the poor boy heartbroken,” you frowned, clicking your tongue in thought. “I despise Pip’s sister, as well,” you added with an innocent smile.
Renjun let out an amused chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a rather insufferable character, isn’t she?” he nodded in agreement, remembering how heartless Pip’s older sister was when it came to Pip and her own husband before she passed away in the book. “She’s exactly what my mother would consider as a bitch,” you added on, pulling your glasses out from your purse with a small giggle, earning a loud gasp from the boy beside you. “Y/n, language!” he gasped, pulling his book back to gaze at you with wide eyes.
You giggled, mumbling a small apology before fidgeting with the frames of your glasses mindlessly. Renjun watched you play with your glasses from the corner of his eye, internally wondering why you have never worn them despite carrying them around in your purse everywhere you go. Furrowing his brows, he turned his head back to his book, biting back his tongue before shaking his head at himself.
“You know, you really shouldn’t play games with your sight if it leaves you in the dark, y/n,” Renjun deadpan, not sparing you a glance as he licked the tip of his thumb to flip a page from his new book. You huffed at your friend, fidgeting with your new spectacles in between your fingers as you rolled your eyes at the boy beside you. “How poetic,” you scoffed, earning a soft chuckle from Renjun. “I think I prefer life all a blur, thank you very much,” you added on with a snappy tone.
“What does that even mean?” Renjun laughed lightly, putting his book down on his lap to turn to you with a soft expression on his face. “I keep forgetting to wear my glasses and now my eyes are blurry, I can’t even see the outline of my hand,” you stated, raising your free hand up above to the sky and squinted your eyes at it in an attempt to get a clearer vision of your hand that was merely a few inches away from you. “Your glasses are literally in your palms,” Renjun pointed out, nodding his head at the hand holding the glasses in question.
You opened your mouth to speak, slowly putting your glasses in your little handbag behind you before clearing your throat. “As I said before, I forgot to wear my glasses,” you repeated, giving him a cheshire grin in response. “Jesus Christ, why do I even bother?” Renjun muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, “won’t your vision get worse the lesser you wear them?” he asked once again, rubbing his temples in distress.
Humming in confirmation, you shrugged innocently before leaning back against the tree the two of you were sitting against. “Though, I believe it won’t get worse as long as I close my eyes. My vision won’t get worse if I don’t see, right? Besides, it feels good to close my eyes,” just as you finished your words, you clasped your hands on your lap, leaning your head back against the tree bark and closing your eyes before letting out a sigh of content. Renjun let out an annoyed puff of breath, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
Your content expression was enough to send fiery sparks into his mechanical heart, he could almost feel it steaming up again. He couldn’t help but notice how close you were next to him, as if he were to make one little scooch, your shoulders would be touching. His eyes wandered to your beautiful figure laying right beside him, internally suppressing the urge to clasp you close to his body in a tight embrace. Your soft lips causing his stomach to do somersaults the longer his gaze lingers there. He imagines that he would scatter confettis on the both of you if he were to press his own lips against yours in a kiss.
His mind couldn’t help but wander back to those times where you had to walk up close to the signs to see what street the two of you were heading, the amount of times you had to squint and lean over the table to read whatever paragraph he was trying to show you during your reading sessions at the library. He felt this sudden urge to protect you, to constantly remind you to wear your glasses in case your vision worsened.
There was something inside of him screaming at him to not let you stray away from the happy path you were currently in. Something inside of him made him determined to be your only guide, to be your pair of eyes. In return, he knew you would ignite the flame in his heart. No, you would be the special flame that burns his heart. You’d be a conflagration in the night. A pretty arsonist. A fire blazing so bright you’ll see the light of the heavens itself.
“Oh why bother. You know very well, out of my five senses, my hearings best. I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize you without relying on my eyes,” you waved your hand off carelessly, keeping your eyes closed, oblivious to the way Renjun was looking at you so lovingly. “Well I assure you, I don’t think you can rely on your hearing to walk down the streets without my assistance,” Renjun chuckled, recalling the time when you almost walked into the wrong side of town due to your poor eyesight.
“You don’t know that! My eyes always lead me astray, anyways. Far away down the street, sometimes I can’t bear to steal a glance at the sun or even look the sky straight in the eye for fear that my eyes would deceive me as well,” you confessed dramatically, finally opening your eyes and turning your head to look at Renjun in the eye. Your eyes widened at the way Renjun’s eyes softened at the sight of your own pupils staring back at his in confusion. You straighten up your position, putting your hands behind you and leaning on them.
“Then let me be your eyes,” Renjun replied in an almost hushed tone. “I won’t let you stray, I promise,” he gave you a sweet boyish smile, making your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “Aren’t you being a little flirtatious? That’s quite unexpected of you, Huang Renjun,” you said with a raise of your brows as the corner of your lips quirked up into a smile that mirrored his own. You turned your head, feeling your faces grow closer and closer with every second.
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” he hummed, turning his body so his shoulder was leaning against the tree bark, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips as he leaned closer to you. You chuckled, shaking your head softly. “I don’t know, what do you think? Maybe it could be a good thing?” you shrugged, closing your eyes and leaning your face closer to his. Renjun followed your actions, feeling the gears in his mechanical heart work at a fast pace. He winced in pain as his body jolted and twitched in pain, the mechanical bird inside of the clock rapidly hitting the door of his clock.
He felt your breath hitting against his face, your lips merely an inch away from his as his body twitched in pain once again. Letting out a grunt of pain, he felt one of the gears of his clock pop out of his chest. Putting his hands on his chest, he grunted once again as his body twitched uncontrollably in pain. There was the sound of fabric being ripped before his vision darkened and he fell back against the concrete floor, falling unconscious within a few seconds.
“Renjun!” a voice yelled out in alarm, causing your eyes to jolt open in shock.
“Oh god, not this. Please, anything but this,” an unfamiliar voice gasped in a panic. Your vision was blurry, you couldn’t see much happening in front of you. You quickly fished out your spectacles from your purse, putting them on immediately before your eyes widened in fear and shock, your body froze on the spot. You could almost feel your heart stop beating against your chest for a moment.
Right in front of you was an unconscious Huang Renjun in the arms of an older lady on the floor. He was leaning against her lap, arms wrapped around him tightly in a motherly way. His eyes closed in content, it almost appeared as if he was just sleeping peacefully. There was steam coming out of his chest, you couldn’t see where it was coming from considering the old lady had blocked your view of him almost completely as she pleaded for him to wake up worriedly.
The lady in question snapped her head at you, glaring daggers at you as if you had committed some sort of arson. “What have you done to him?” she asked, her tone filled with malice and hatred. As if you were the cause of Renjun’s current state. Your eyes widened at her sharp tone, fear and anxiety creeping up in your veins as you couldn’t find the courage to even open your mouth, let alone utter a single word. You shakily got up to your feet, grabbing the strap of your purse before running off away from the two.
-
Slap!
The loud sound of Madam Wendy’s palm making contact with Renjun’s cheek pierced the room, causing his head to turn sideways at the harsh impact, wincing slightly as he laid against the chair, which was commonly used for Wendy’s patients, shirtless. His body jolted at the sudden contact, his heart making a loud ‘cuckoo’ sound at the shock it caused. “What were you thinking? You could’ve died!” Madam Wendy scolded, her fists balled up in her sides as she walked over to her table tray filled with tools.
Renjun couldn’t speak as he looked down in his palms, his mind blank and face void of emotion. He felt numb at that exact moment, he didn’t know if it was the aftermath of the sheering pain he just endured in front of you or it was because of the feeling of his heart being fixed by his own caretaker. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Huang Renjun. Whatever bloody happened to rule number 3? Did you forget?” Madam Wendy exclaimed in an alarming tone, her voice strict and angry. “No,” Renjun replied before breaking into a small fit of coughs, wincing as his chest burned with every breath he took.
“Do you have a pain in your heart when you cough?” Madam Wendy asked, her tone filled with worry, eyes filled with disappointment as she searched for a pair of pliers. Renjun nodded slowly in response, gripping the armrests of the chair as he leaned his head back against the pillow set behind his head. “Well multiply that pain and your suffering to a hundred fold and you still won’t understand the pain love causes,” she snapped, using some pliers to pull a piece of fabric from the arrows of his heart, placing the fabric on the small tray beside him before walking off to grab some more tools.
“And the greater the love, the greater the pain,” she sighed, opening the drawers from across the room. Renjun’s eyes flickered to the woman frantically trying to fix his heart before his eyes moved down to the white fabric on the tray. He reached his arm out to grab it, quickly snucking it in his pockets before looking back at the window. During your near-kiss under the tree, the arrows of his clock must’ve pulled against the fabric of your dress. Your dress wasn’t made out of the most durable fabric, the pull must’ve ripped the top sleeve of your dress when he passed out.
“First, your sense of ache, followed by pangs of rage and jealousy then incomprehension,” she started to explain, sipping on her coffee as Wendy’s heart ached at the thought of her own child going through that much pain if this goes on. “Rejection, the agony of heartbreak,” she turned to point her tweezers that was holding a gear in between it with a strict motherly expression. One that Renjun couldn’t bear looking into for too long.
“Your mechanical heart won’t be able to withstand it, you know this! I told you countless times, this is why I’m always so worried whenever I let you go into town,” she barked, walking back to the tools to drop the rusted gear along with the other broken metals she pulled out and replaced from his heart. “It will overheat and explode, I transplanted it with my own two hands, therefore I know it’s limits,” she went on, her tone falling deaf onto Renjun’s ears as his mind wandered back to your figure.
“A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!”
With eyes closed in thought, he wondered what happened after he fell unconscious, how did Madam Wendy find him in such a short amount of time? What happened to you? Did he scare you when he fell unconscious? He was worried you’ll be afraid to talk to him now. Did Wendy say anything mean to you while he was out cold on the concrete floor?
Oh god, your presence isn’t even here and your existence is entering his heart and filling it with flames as if you were a little fairy wandering around looking for a new home to live in. A home which is his heart. He couldn’t help but let out a small smile at the vivid memory of sitting so close to you under the shade, how his skin burns at the feeling of touching yours, how your smile and laughter gave colour to his emotionless dark world. Oh how the thought of you made Renjun feel as if he was floating. It was as if you were carrying him up into the sky, he felt like flying by your side.
“Do you know why I saved your life?” a voice snapped him out of his daydreaming.
His eyes opened, head turning to his caretaker who took a seat next to him, gripping her gloves in her hands. “You were the son I never had,” she confessed, giving him a small comforting smile. “Why couldn’t you have one?” Renjun asked rather hesitantly, his voice almost hushed as if he was whispering, despite the fact that it was only the two of them in the room. Madam Wendy shrugged, sighing heavily.
“It was no one’s fault. It’s one of those tricks love and nature plays on us, you know that more than anyone,” she chuckled, gesturing to the cuckoo clock heart on his naked chest. “Though, the day your mother gave you to me felt like it was heaven sent. Oh god, I would lose my mind and my reason for living if I lost you,” she reached over and ran her fingers through her child’s hair, making Renjun feel some sort of guilt deep down in his chest.
“I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry I fell in love and I don’t know how to get out.
-
Madam Wendy finally allowed Renjun out of their home a month after the incident. For the whole thirty days he was prisoned in his home, all that wandered in his mind was you. He wanted to see you, he longed to hear your sardonic humor, he longed to hear your angelic laughter flowing through his ears like music. He longed to ask forgiveness of what had happened between the two of you under the tree.
He wondered if you harbored the same feelings for him as he does for you. He doubted you’d still feel the same after the incident, however, a part of him had hope that you would wait for him all this time. He tried to prove himself wrong as he ran around town to all of your favorite spots. The library, the fountain, the art store, the tree. Anywhere his mind took him, his feet didn’t stop moving. His feet couldn’t stop moving.
He wanted to see you again. No, he needed to see you again. He needed to apologize to you to release the guilt in his heart. He didn’t care if his heart would explode right then and there, he needed to see you and he wanted to finally embrace you in his arms. He needed to know if you reciprocate his feelings, he needed to know if you longed for him as much as he longed for you this whole entire time. He never got your answer, either. He asked to be your eyes, he wanted to be your guide. He wanted to tell you to rely on him if you can’t rely on your eyes, he wanted to hold your hand to keep you from straying to the wrong path. He wanted to feel his lips brush against yours, he wanted to feel love. He wanted to feel loved by you.
His heart fell even more when he realised he couldn’t find you anywhere. No one knew where you went, no one has seen you since the day he fell unconscious. It was as if you had disappeared off of the surface of the earth. The only thing he had of you was the fabric he accidentally tore off of your dress. He realised you left your barrel organ ride beside the tree. It was already collecting dust as leaves fell in between the spaces of the organ.
You were gone.
The owner of the library informed him that you had fled abroad. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach at the thought of you running away. You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even have the audacity to tell him you were leaving? Surely you would have informed him that you were leaving. Yet again, you did tell him on the first day you met that you weren’t supposed to stay here for too long. But was it too much of him to ask you to at least say goodbye?
-
Two years later, it was Renjun’s 18th birthday. Two years since he lost you, two years since he went back to the hollow shell he formerly was before he fell in love. He spent months wallowing in his own sorrow, he spent months wondering if you missed him the same way he missed you. He no longer looked forward to walking out of his home to paint, all he saw was grey. The places he spent with you made his vision dark and grey, it was as if the joy inside of him were stripped from his vision.
He didn’t know what to do. His heart grew numb, he didn’t know how to make himself happy again. It was as if he had lost a part of himself. He had lost something precious. Which he did, he lost you. He didn’t know what to do. Yet, on a rare occasion, he would take small walks into town.
Madam Wendy noticed how Renjun’s whole existence grew dull ever since that day, his eyes were always dark as if he hasn’t slept for centuries, a frown permanently placed on his lips, his movements weak as if he didn’t have the energy to move. At this point he admitted that he was barely living, he was just a human body existing with a cuckoo clock as a heart. His days were no longer as bright as they used to.
To Renjun, the days felt like it was repeating itself. He wasn’t allowed to go to school, for Madam Wendy feared that he would be made fun of and bullied by his peers. Everyday, he would wake up and wind up his heart, take a long shower, eat his breakfast, paint or read his books, occasionally talking to the patients who attempted to make small talk with him (however that wouldn’t last very long considering he had no interest whatsoever in interacting with strangers he barely knew), eat dinner, go to bed. Repeat.
It was an exhausting cycle. His mind was growing dull. Whenever his mental health became worse, he would take a walk into town to clear his mind to try and lift his own spirits (despite the fact that he knew it’s futile. After all, he’s been trying this for the past two years.) Today was unfortunately one of those days.
Renjun had decided to take a small visit to the library. He remembered how he had to apologize to the librarian for lending you the Great Expectations book when he remembered that you’ve never returned the book back to him. He still felt guilty despite the fact that the librarian didn’t mind it very much. The librarian lady took a liking to both you and Renjun, she thought the two of you would’ve ended up together if it weren’t for the fact that you had moved away without a goodbye.
But fortunately for Renjun, today was a different day. Today would be the day to end his miserable lifestyle.
“Renjun! Renjun, my dear boy! How are you, honey?” the librarian greeted, putting a stack of books on the counter as Renjun entered the library with a bashful smile on his face. “Same as always, Mrs. Dust,” he bowed to greet the older lady politely, snucking his hands in his pockets after tugging on his coat. “Honey, I have lovely news for you! You remember your old friend, Miss Y/n, don’t you?” the lady giggled, walking over to the young adult with an eager smile on her face.
Oh how Renjun’s heart perked up at the brief mention of your name.
“Of course I do, Mrs. What about her?” he coughed, clearing his throat to prevent his voice from shaking. “I’ve received a letter from her! Oh hold on, dearie,” she giggled, squatting down to open the small drawer near her desk and pulling out a small postcard which had a familiar handwriting written on the back. “It must be your birthday soon. Happy birthday, my dear boy. The least I can do is give you this,” she smiled, handing Renjun the postcard with a hum.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Dust,” he smiled, gripping the postcard tightly in between his fingers as he looked down on it. It was indeed from you. You didn’t write much on the card, nothing more than a simple ‘happy birthday’ and a small ‘I missed you’. You had written your name at the edge of the card and a small ‘R’ beside the happy birthday, indicating that it was truly for him. Fireworks erupted in his stomach when he saw small hearts doodled all over the card with a red pen.
You remembered him.
You missed him.
You thought of him.
Those words were enough to revive the spark in his heart. Those were enough to spread a bright genuine smile across his lips. His cheeks hurt from how wide his smile was, he felt like jumping for joy. He was so ecstatic he thought he could fly to the sky, he felt his fingers itching as his eyes wandered to the address you have written at the bottom of the postcard, giving him a hint of where you might be living.
Andalusia.
You were half across Europe. You were so far away, yet so close. He wanted to see you. He needed to see you. He couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, he needed to get a move on and he needed to find you. He thought sending you a postcard back wasn’t enough. He wanted to see the girl who managed to turn his heart without the key, he wanted to see the girl who produced a spark in his heart with only a few mere words.
He ran all the way back home, encountering Joy and Yeri on the way back and shooting them with an uncharacteristically bright smile stretched across his face. “Renjun, lad, what’s gotten you all jumpy?” Joy exclaimed, causing Renjun to stop in his tracks. “I got a letter from her!” he informed them, his voice high-pitched as if he just got told that he had personally won the sun, moon and stars all to himself. In his case, he actually did. He actually did.
“A letter?” Yeri squeaked up, a smile stretching across her face at the sight of the younger boy’s. “From who?” Joy asked, giggles bubbling up in between the two ladies as they watch Renjun suppress the urge to jump for joy. “Y/n! She remembers me! She sent me a postcard from Andalusia,” he exclaimed, waving the postcard in their faces. Joy’s eyes wandered down to Renjun’s chest, watching as the hands of his clock spun rapidly, indicating how excited the young adult was feeling.
“Y/n? Was this the young girl you went on about a few years ago?” Yeri asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from Renjun himself. “Renjun, that’s great news! What are you planning to do then? Write her another letter?” she asked once again, clasping her hands in front of her at the delightful news. The boy shook his head eagerly, his smile never faltering.
“I’m going to find her, I’m going to find her and confess my love,” he breathed out, his own words taking his breath away. The thought of seeing you again was enough to send him flying into the heavens, oh for all things that’s holy, he didn’t know how he was going to proclaim his love for you in person when he could barely explain it in words himself.
“To Andalusia? Renjun, that’s halfway across Europe! Madam Wendy won’t be very happy about this,” Joy informed him, a sympathetic smile replacing her previously bright one. Renjun’s smile faltered at the mention of his caretaker, looking down at the postcard you had sent him, your messy handwriting beckoning him to come to you. He sucked his bottom lip, his heart racing at the thought of rebelling against Madam Wendy’s orders.
Yet again, if he did end up dying from this, all of Madam Wendy’s efforts throughout the past two decades would be in vain. She was practically his guardian after all, but yet again, he was a legal adult now isn’t he? He’s 18 years old, he didn’t have to live under her rules anymore if he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty for wanting to flee Edinburgh just to see you again, something inside of him was screaming at him to run.
Maybe this time, he would listen to it.
“Joy, Yeri, will you help me escape Edinburgh?”
-
“Renjun? What are you doing up so late?”
Renjun froze, halting his movements as he dropped another sweater into his suitcase. He shut his eyes tightly as his heart raced against his chest, taking a deep breath to compose himself before standing up to face his caretaker as he zipped up his suitcase tight. “Wendy,” he cleared his throat, gripping tightly on the saddle of his suitcase with a small cough, slipping the key to his heart in his front pockets. “Renjun, why do you have a suitcase packed? It’s past curfew,” she narrowed her eyes at the boy.
“Wendy, I am now a legal adult. I have turned 18 years old,” Renjun started, suppressing the urge to gulp down his nerves but he kept his ground. “Yes, I know that, Renjun. That still doesn't answer my question as to why you’re up this late with a packed suitcase,” she nodded, tone laced with confusion as Renjun took a step back towards the opened window, looking out at the moonlight. “Y/n sent me a postcard… from Andalusia,” his voice grew quieter as the seconds went by.
“I’m planning to travel half across Europe to see her again.”
“No, I forbade it.” Wendy shook her head, taking a step forward towards her adopted child, her hands balled up into fists at how Renjun’s determined expression didn’t falter at the slightest bit at her strict tone. “I expected you to say that,” Renjun sighed, walking over to the open window and looking up at the moon shining down upon the dark sky.
“Nature was cruel to pray this silly little trick on me. I spent two decades wondering ‘what is love’? I knew I didn’t need to love in life, you showed me that throughout my whole 18 years of living here. I didn’t need love to live,” Renjun started, clasping his hands together as he held the saddle of his suitcase harder.
“But I realise, I’ve always wanted to feel love. To feel love, to give love and be loved back. Y/n made me realise that when I started falling for her two years ago, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have come to this realisation either,” he chuckled in disbelief, looking around at the decorations of his room, realising how much he’s going to miss living here. “I want to go out and explore the world, I know you have been dreading at the possibility of this day coming, but it has, Wendy.”
“Renjun, no. If you leave, this might as well be the last breath you’ll take! You have never travelled outside of town before, how are you going to survive travelling all across Europe for some measly girl? I won’t allow it, I can’t allow it,” Wendy shook her head, her eyes wide with panic as she watched Renjun walk backwards to the open window behind him. “I know you won’t allow it. But it’s time to let me go,” Renjun smiled sadly.
“Thank you for the 18 years you have spent trying to keep me alive. But the past two years felt meaningless to me without her presence, it felt aimless. I was honestly thinking about taking my own life at some point,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “But now, I realise I rather risk my life for love than spend the rest of my days here with an empty, cold feeling in my heart,” he shot his guardian a genuine smile, the first genuine smile she has ever witnessed from the young boy.
“Goodbye Wendy.”
“Huang Renjun!”
Renjun fell back from the open window, causing Madam Wendy to let out a cry of his name, quickly running over to the window to see if her child was okay. She gasped when she saw that Renjun had landed on a mattress Joy and Yeri had set before hand, a loud joyous laughter eliciting from the younger boy’s lips, a sound Wendy has never heard from the boy from his eighteen years of living. He got up from the mattress, grabbing his suitcase quickly before shooting a boyish smile to his aunts.
“I’ll send you a postcard, Madam Wendy!” he exclaimed as he began running down the hill.
“Renjun, no! Come back! Oh god, please no! Yeri, Joy, what are you doing?! Stop the young lad before he-”
“You can’t blame me for falling hard in love, mother!”
-
“Now my dear boy, what a lovely contraption of a heart you got there!” a man exclaimed, adjusting his monocle as he squinted his eyes at Renjun’s mechanical heart. “Oh, why, thank you,” he smiled politely, bowing at the older man as he gripped his canvas in hand. “Where are you off to? You seem quite young to be travelling all by yourself,” the man asked in an attempt to make small talk.
That night, Renjun had run off to catch the nearest train to Paris, he planned to take a trip from there to Andalusia. It was a 7 hour ride but he was willing to do anything at this point to get out of Edinburgh. When he finally arrived in Paris, he stumbled upon this man while waiting for his next train. “Oh pardon me, where are my manners! I’m Kim Doyoung,” he outstretched his hand for Renjun to shake with a toothy smile spread on his lips.
“Huang Renjun,” he introduced with a sheepish smile. “Ah, So, Renjun, where are you going, my dear boy? You seem a little bit too young to travel,” Doyoung took off his monocle, wiping it against his tie before putting it back on. “I-I’m trying to get a replacement for my heart,” Renjun said, poking his little clock with the tip of his finger, grimacing at the small ticking sound it was making at the small touch.
It wasn’t a complete lie.
He had planned to get a replacement for his heart for so long, he figured that maybe if he changed into a new one, this wretched curse of forbidden love might be lifted. Maybe he didn’t have to part ways with Madam Wendy or Joy or Yeri. Maybe if he replaced his clock, he could live his life happily in love with you. Though, for now, it was just a small hope he held inside of him. All he could do now was find a clockmaker.
“I’m trying to find a clockmaker somewhere to replace my heart,” he spoke in a bold tone, looking down at his unfinished piece. He made it during his seven hour train ride while thinking of you just to pass the time, though, he was honestly considering giving it to you the moment you get to reunite with each other. “Do you happen to know one?” he asked, his eyes going wide with hopefulness.
Doyoung hummed in response, tugging on the tip of his tie. “Unfortunately, I’m not a clockmaker. But I do like tinkering in the mechanics direction! Maybe I could take a closer look at your heart to see if there’s anything I can do,” Doyoung suggested, pulling out a magnifying glass with a nod of his head. Renjun sucked his bottom lip nervously before taking out the key from his front pocket, plunging it into the mechanical heart and turning it to open the door of his heart. “Alright then.” “Oh! You say that this was grafted by the famous Madam Wendy from Edinburgh? She must be quite the genius to craft and piece this all for you with her bare hands to save your life,” he exclaimed, leaning closer to observe the small gears slowly turning with every small tick tocks his heart makes. “Though, I don’t know why you’d want to replace such a thing. Everything works just fine, clearly, she made this out of love. I could see it within every crevice of art she puts into this clock,” the older man clicked his heart, putting his magnifying glass back into his bag as Renjun closed his heart shut and pulled his key out of the clock.
“Love, huh? That’s the exact problem I have at the moment,” Renjun sighed heavily, tucking his key back into his front pocket before leaning back against his seat. “It’s very dangerous to me. At least that’s what Wendy said to me for the past eighteen years of my life,” he looked down at his shoes sadly, pressing his lips together in a tight line as he felt the guilt catching up to him at the thought of his caretaker’s efforts going in vain.
“Tell me about it,” Doyoung grinned, putting his hand on his chin as a smug expression spread across his features.
“You see, mister Kim-”
“Oh no! Call me Doyoung!”
“Uhm- You see, mister Doyoung. There’s this singer I met in Edinburgh a long time ago and-” “Ah yes, I see. These things do happen quite often.” Renjun bit back his tongue when Doyoung interrupted him once again, but nonetheless he continued on with his story. “As time went on, we grew closer. And soon, I couldn’t help but feel as if my whole world was going through a life threatening earthquake. My head was spinning, I couldn’t breathe. The ticking tock of my clock sounded almost alarming as if it was going to stop at any given moment whenever I’m within her lovely presence,” he explained, making grand, dramatic gestures with his hands as he went on.
Doyoung chuckled, assuming that Renjun’s poetic explanations were purely symbolic. “And how did that feel, exactly, Renjun?” he asked, causing Renjun’s expression to soften. “Extraordinary,” he sighed, almost dreamily as he looked down at the postcard he was holding in his free hand that wasn’t holding his canvas. “There you go, my dear boy,” he chuckled in response, leaning back against the seat next to Renjun’s.
“I don’t know, Mister Doyoung. I fear Wendy might be right, though, what if love was just a trap and my ticking clock is just a bomb waiting to be triggered by it?” Renjun asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he kissed his teeth. “Renjun, if you fear of getting hurt, you will increase the chances of getting hurt,” Doyoung laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You should enjoy the thrill, the danger! That pumps through your veins at the thought of falling completely in love,” he exclaimed.
“If you live your life worrying everything, you’ll get bored before you even die! Don’t you want to experience a life changing experience with this little lady you’ve been saughting after?” he asked, her tone encouraging Renjun’s spirit to get back up again. A smile stretched across Renjun’s face at the thought, he had flashbacks to the two years he spent without you. He couldn’t afford going back to the same depressing situation he got himself out of, and he’s definitely not willing to go back now that he’s almost there.
“If I can find her again. The last time I heard from her, she was in Andalusia,” he shrugged with a small laugh.
“I’d say,” Doyoung laughed. “When you’re eighteen and you’re travelling half across the continent for a girl, I’d say the rebellious genes in your DNA are highly developed,” he joked, retracting his hand from Renjun’s shoulders. “I bet I could make a whole film based on your cuckoo clock heart,” Doyoung whipped out an empty journal from his bag, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his newfound friend. “Why not?” Renjun chuckled with a small shrug.
“Young love, what a beautiful thing to see. You see, I never had any fond memories when it comes to being in love. All I do is invent and invent contraptions, and my former lover never appreciated my expertise. Life is far from easy when you’re in love, my young friend,” Doyoung sighed, leaning his arm against the seat with a heavy sigh. “Why don’t you come with me to Andalusia then, Mister Doyoung? I’m sure anything’s possible there and I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a company on my way there,” Renjun offered, the thought of making a new friend giving some light into his dark path.
“You want an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns following you in your journey to find love?” Doyoung’s eyes went wide in shock, a smile that mirrored Renjun’s appearing on his face. “I would love to have an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns in my quest!” Renjun laughed, nodding eagerly as he sat up straight to shake Doyoung’s hand to make a deal.
Renjun had made another friend.
-
When they finally arrived in Andalusia, they stumbled upon a small amusement park where you were rumored to be staying in at the moment. “Well, first impressions?” Doyoung asked, looking around the ominous park filled with performers and eccentric workers setting up their tents. “It’s.. quite different than Edinburgh, I must admit,” Renjun chuckled, pulling on his suitcase eagerly as he scanned his eyes around in hopes that he might see your figure at the corner of his eye.
The park, unlike his old town, was way more colourful than Edinburgh. There were animals in colourful cages, happily interacting with their inmates. There were jesters and mimes practicing for their acts in the middle of the streets, happily entertaining a few visitors. There were food stands everywhere, Renjun swore you could exit this park penniless under five minutes if you really wanted to.
“Come one, come all! For tonight we have special acts starting from 5 pm to-”
He walked past whom he assumed was the announcer of the park, who was enthusiastically using a tricycle to spread his message all over the place. And upon walking around he stumbled upon what seems to be a horror attraction in the shape of a train, the owner standing inside of a coffin as she smoked her cigarette, eyeing Renjun suspiciously. “Looking for something, you little runt? A job, perhaps? Cause, I’m looking for a new employee to hire,” she asked, taking a puff of her cigarette in between her sentences.
Renjun took his words back about Madam Wendy resembling Ms Havisham. Because at that given moment, he felt like Pip when he was first introduced to Ms Havisham in the book, clueless as to what he wanted with her. Renjun shook his head, no, mustering up the courage to give the older woman a polite smile. “I’m looking for a little singer?” he answered with an innocent smile.
“A little singer? Here? The chances of that is equivalent to finding a snowflake in hell,” she rolled her eyes, taking another puff from her cigarette and blowing smoke into Renjun’s face. He coughed, taking a step back in alarm but he bit his tongue to snap back at the woman’s rude actions. “Listen, I’m just trying to find a little singer who sings like a lovely bird in the break of daw-”
“Enough jabbering about her! Do you want the job or not?” she sighed exasperatedly.
As Renjun was about to give the woman a piece of his mind for being so rude, the announcer cycling around him caught his attention with his words. “Ladies and Gentlemen, up next in our line of performers will be the young singing sensation, Miss Y/n! A lady who has travelled far and wide with her infamous street singing career,” the announcer said with a booming voice as he cycled to another part of the park.
“Miss Y/n?” he whispered with a soft gasp. “Well? Do you want the job or not?” the woman asked with a raised brow. He frowned involuntarily at the woman’s abrupt tone, clicking his tongue before running back to wherever Doyoung was. “I’ll think about it!” he exclaimed loudly before sprinting off, calling out his colleague’s name with a bright smile on his face.
“I found her!”
-
“It is her!” he gasped, watching as you slowly come out of your little private trailer, music piercing his ears and your voice making its way into his heart like a knife throwing attraction. It hit right at the target perfectly. “It’s her, I can’t believe it,” Renjun could feel his breath being taken away. You had grown to be a beautiful woman, your features changed slightly due to the years but nonetheless, it didn’t do anything to stop Renjun’s heart from swelling up with adoration like a balloon being filled with helium.
“Go into her trailer, no one’s going to notice you. Talk to her after her performance,” Doyoung encouraged with a slightly hushed tone. “Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes shot wide at the unexpected encouragement, his eyes wandering to the trailer you came out of. “I can’t do that! That’s a lady’s privacy!” he exclaimed, shaking his head aggressively. “Trust me, it’ll go smoothly! Just believe in yourself and try not to let the conversation die,” Doyoung hissed, nudging on the younger boy’s shoulder.
Renjun got up slowly, gulping down his fear as he quickly got into your trailer, eyes wide at his own stupidity. ‘God, why did I decide to do this? This is very uncouth of me to do so,’ he thought to himself, wincing slightly when he realised that the music had died down. A bouquet of daisies were in his hand, he didn’t know what to do at that moment as he observed your trailer. It wasn’t very far from you. It was decorated according to your liking.
Your favorite colour was splashed all over the walls, a mannequin standing idly beside the entrance, your dressing table with a gigantic mirror showing his nervous presence. He froze for a brief moment at the sound of your enchanting humming and your little footsteps coming closer to the trailer, making him stand behind the mannequin on pure instinct as you walked into the trailer with a skip in your step.
You were humming the same song you sang on the day you first met. Muttering the lyrics under your breath as you removed bits of dust from your clothing from the performance. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped at Renjun’s awkward figure standing behind your mannequin. You stood up abruptly, grabbing a perfume on your desk and raised it up threateningly at him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” you exclaimed in alarm. You couldn’t see his face very clearly considering you weren’t wearing your glasses.
“I’m sorry! I was tying my shoelaces when I fell into your floor,” Renjun shook his head, waving his hands around nervously to give off the message that he wasn’t some weird creep or stalker snooping around your belongings. “Do you always fall into a girl’s quarters when she’s changing?” you snapped, lowering your perfume hesitantly as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the boy. “NO! No! I would never, I swear! I don’t even know why I’m-”
“You look suspiciously familiar as if I recognise you from somewhere,” you mumbled under your breath, squinting your eyes at him. “You recognise me?” Renjun perked up, a smile stretching across his face as he took a step away from the mannequin towards you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes before turning to the mirror to adjust your appearance. “What do you want anyway?” you sighed, as if you were used to this sort of encounter.
“I’d like to give you a bouquet of daisies,” Renjun bit his lip, pulling the bouquet behind him and leaning it towards your direction. “Daisies? I can’t say they’re my favorite flowers,” you chuckled, looking up at him with a more relaxed expression. “I have no idea why, but peculiarly, daisies always reminds me of my glasses,” you confessed, putting the bouquet on your desk and standing up towards the exit. “I stopped wearing them a long, long time ago. They make me look like some weird bug,” you joked, looking back at Renjun, who chuckled at your words.
‘You really haven’t changed, huh?’
“It’s fine by me,” Renjun chuckled, walking closer towards you in comforting silence. The way your eyes made contact with his softly made his stomach do somersaults, the gears of his heart felt like it was powered by a burst of energy. “Could we see each other again?” he asked hesitantly, “I’d like to get to know you even more,” he added, snucking his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps,” you shrugged, giving him a smile that mirrored his own. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”
“Oh, no! I’m not, I’m the-I work at the ghost train,” Renjun lied through his teeth, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh, you’re the new scarer? That’s wonderful news to hear,” you exclaimed, clapping your hands to congratulate him on his new job. “Yes, of course! Exactly, I’m the new scarer,” he nodded, a little bit too eagerly if you asked him. “Can I come see you in action?” you laughed lightly, observing how fidgety the boy in front of you is as he stepped out of your trailer.
“Of course!”
“Tomorrow? Around four?”
“I’ll see you then.”
-
As the weeks went by, the love between you and Renjun blossomed like a rose. You bonded over your love for art and music in general, rekindling the friendship you used to have. But unfortunately for Renjun, you didn’t recognise him, not a single bit. It was against his beliefs to hit a woman, for that was very impolite of a man, but whenever you mumble how you couldn’t put your finger on how you recognize him from somewhere then proceeds to drop the conversation, he couldn’t lie. He wanted to smack you upside the head for your oblivious self.
‘Oblivious, rather ludicrous and as blind as a bat. Why did I fancy her, again?’ he would always ponder to himself on a daily basis before watching you run around to try the newest food from each of the food stalls with a bright smile on your face. ��Oh, right, that’s why,’ he sighed heavily before going over to you with his hands clasped behind his back, mentally preparing himself to fall head over heels for you over and over again.
Today, he was giving you a tour of the ghost train. (yes, he took up the offer with a roll of his eyes just so he can stay here and spent more time with you) “You’re doing a wonderful job here, by the way. It looked like people are having a lot of fun riding the ghost train with your assistance,” you complimented, giving Renjun a soft smile as you walk along the dark train tracks.
“Why thank you, my boss can’t say the same, however,” he grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the thought of his boss being ashamed of him for ruining her quote unquote reputation. “Don’t mind her, she’s always been like that,” you waved it off with a small giggle, patting his shoulder. “Hmm,” he nodded, a pregnant pause settling between you two as you basked in each other’s company. “How did you like the glasses I gave you?”
Everyday, Renjun would find the most ominous and peculiar looking glasses that were all twisted and broken to give to you, which always brought a smile upon your face knowing full well that you couldn’t wear them no matter how much you tried. “Awful, as usual,” you joked, clasping your hands behind your back as you skipped along the tracks, your shoes hitting the dark coal with a soft ‘tip tap’. “Wonderful,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head profusely at you.
“I still can’t shake over the feeling that I’ve been in this situation before, or maybe I dreamed of this moment before,” you blurted out, looking around the damp cave-like tunnel you were walking through. Renjun bit his lip sadly, suppressing the urge to tell you that he was the boy you met back in Edinburgh. Yet again, what if you left for a reason? What if you left because you didn’t want to see him again? He feared the worse as time went on.
“I’m sure we’ve met before but I don’t know where,” you turned to him with a smile tugging at your lips. “Really,” Renjun looked down at his feet, kicking the coal as you both paused in your step and turned your bodies to look at each other in the eyes. You somehow found comfort in looking into Renjun’s eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint why they constantly gave you a sense of deja vu whenever you stare into them for too long. “What’s that odd pitter patter?” you mumbled, hearing a familiar tapping sound in the tunnel.
He bit back a smile, “it’s the rain.”
He knew those words all too well. “Do you like the rain?” he asked, putting his hand behind his back as he adjusted the top hat on his head. “Getting wet? No,” you shook your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “But the sound it makes? Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically, making Renjun laugh at your slight eagerness. “And I’ve heard that noise before somewhere,” you whispered, loud enough for Renjun to hear.
“That’s because it’s my heart,” he couldn’t help but blurted out, putting a hand on his little coat. “Pardon?” you furrowed your brows in confusion, watching him tug on his coat to reveal a miniscule cuckoo clock on his chest. “My heart, they made it for me on the day I was born. It’s a bit cold and a little fragile, but it works,” he sighed, watching as you observe the small contraption on his heart with a curious expression, pulling out the key from his pockets.
“You can open me up with this little key,” he grabbed your hand and placed the key in between your fingers, letting you push the key into his heart and turning it to the left before opening the door of his clock. “Fascinating, do you always let other girls walk into the train tracks with you and let them open your heart?” you chuckled, raising your brow at the boy in front of you, whose eyes widened in surprise as you pulled your hand away from his heart.
“No, not really. In fact, you’re the first one,” Renjun shook his head with a sweet smile, closing the door shut and pulling out the key before placing it back into his pocket. “Oh, thanks,” your eyes widened slightly at his blunt expression, putting a hand on your arm shyly. “You’re welcome,” he chuckled, patting the key in his pocket. Renjun’s eyes wandered from your eyes to your soft lips, his heart racing against his chest at the thought of finally picking up where you had left off all those years. He didn’t even realise that he was leaning his head towards yours.
“Wait- no,” you pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him away as you turned your head to the side with guilt glossing over your eyes. “Don’t,” you shook your head as you took a step back. “I really like you. There’s a warm fuzzy feeling growing in my tummy that’s making me pull towards you like a magnet, but,” you paused, looking down at your hands nervously as they lay limp on your sides. “My heart belongs to someone else,” you gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Someone I met a long, long time ago. You always reminded me of him. “I’m still waiting until the day we reunite once again, embarking on a romantic adventure with you would just be unfair,” you sighed heavily, rubbing your arms nervously as you slowly let Renjun down. A great pang of pain pierced through Renjun’s whole body at your words, he could almost feel his heart tear itself apart as he watched you walk away and out of the ghost tunnel.
Away from him.
-
“Renjun! You’re back! So? How did it go?” Doyoung exclaimed, fixing his latest invention with a cough, dropping his tweezers in his bag as he wiped his hands on a nearby cloth. Doyoung had rented an empty building so that he could introduce his new inventions to the public and entertain them with them. “She loves someone else,” Renjun mumbled under his breath, tossing his top hat onto one of the seats they set up as he sat down on the steps of the small indoor stage Doyoung had built over the past few weeks.
“I travelled halfway across Europe for her for absolutely nothing,” Renjun laid his head on his palms, sighing heavily as he tried to keep himself from screaming in pain. His heart was hurting. It was way different than the pain he felt two years ago, it was a whole new level of emotional pain he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. “Did you at least confess your love for her?” Doyoung asked, taking a seat next to the boy as Renjun gripped his hair tightly in distress.
“Why bother? Her heart’s filled to the brim, there’s no way I could empty it out like a sink,” Renjun pulled his head out of his hands, his elbows laying on his legs as he threw the golden key to his heart against the carpet floor out of frustration. “You can’t just let your efforts go to waste, Renjun. Did she at least recognise you?” Doyoung asked, leaning over to grab the key and place it back into his younger friend’s palm with a heavy sigh.
He shook his head, turning it to look at the older man who adjusted his monocle. “No, I’d prefer her not to remember who I am than to remember me and not love me in return,” Renjun leaned his cheek against his palm, eyes looking down sadly at his feet. “You can’t just give up like that, Renjun. Love is like a shooting star you’re supposed to seek after, a wish you must grant yourself with the fifty percent chance of getting the outcome you desire,” Doyoung encouraged, leaning back against his palms behind him.
Renjun chuckled softly, a sad smile appearing on his lips. “I never felt so sad yet so happy at the same time,” he shook his head, pressing his knuckles to his temples hard. “Ah yes, two of the most powerful and impactful emotions of the human soul combined into one,” Doyoung mused, raising a brow at his lovesick friend. “If only she believed me about my heart, her expression tells me that she thinks it’s some kind of sick joke,” he scoffed, kicking the air with one foot as he let out a huff of exhaustion.
“Well, did she say who has captured her heart?” Doyoung asked, raising his brow, causing Renjun’s eyes to shoot up wide.
The impact of Kim Doyoung’s words have never failed to get Renjun’s adrenaline rushing again through his veins as he walked into your trailer with a small push against your door. “Do I know him?” Renjun asked abruptly, wanting to get straight to the point as he was very eager to know who has captured your heart. “Could you stop barging into my trailer all the time?” you retorted, turning towards him as you put down your makeup brush on your desk. “The boy you’re in love with, do I know him?” Renjun repeated, the gears of his heart racing against his chest.
He doesn’t even know if he wants the answer to that question. “No,” you replied bluntly, adjusting the laces on your dress. “So you’re not in love with him anymore?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he crossed his arms against his chest and leaned against the door. “No, that’s not what I meant!” you huffed, feeling yourself getting frustrated the more he edged you on. “Look, it was a very, very long time ago when I first met him,” you rolled your eyes.
“It was back when my parents still made me move from city to city. Oh god, that city was practically made for him. The aura of the city radiated the same aura he had back when I first met him, cold and depressing. Nonetheless the more I got to know him, the more I realised that inside he was just a warm human being that needed someone to light up his perspective,” you sighed, clasping your hands together right in front of you. There was a loud ‘cuckoo!’ that pierced both of your ears, and suddenly, a small gear shot from Renjun’s heart and hit the wooden closet right beside you.
“Would you stop playing with your clock? You could injure someone, it won’t hurt to take it off occasionally, will it?” you exclaimed with a gasp, looking up at him with bold eyes as you put your hands on your hips. “I can’t help it, it’s not some bloody toy! It’s my heart,” he snapped back, his hands balled up into fists as he felt his blood boiling in his veins at the sound of you talking so highly of someone else that wasn’t him. The way you talked about whoever this boy is was the same way he talked about you to everyone else.
He took a deep breath to calm himself down when he saw your taken aback reaction, “I’m sorry.” You let out a deep sigh as you stood up from your desk, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the poor fellow. “Look, I would really appreciate it if we could become friends. How about we go down to the theater tomorrow? I heard Mister Doyoung made a new contraption to add to the cinematic universe,” you suggested, giving him a kind smile as you took his hand in yours to try and cheer him up a bit.
“I’d really like to go together.” No matter how much his heart was telling him to rest for the rest of his life, no matter how much in pain he’s currently in, but the moment he looked into your eyes, he knew he couldn’t say no.
-
“Would you care to share more information about your romeo?” Renjun asked, holding his wrist behind him as you two walked outside of the amusement park together after the show. “Oh, don’t call him that. I absolutely despise that specific work of Shakespeare’s,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you hopped over a pebble, grunting as you caught your balance. Renjun chuckled, “why so?” he asked, raising his brow at you.
“The typical damsel in distress trope never failed to make my blood boil like a pot of water on high heat,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I prefer to call him my Pip,” you giggled, climbing up a small hill before sitting on top of the grass and laying your head down with a content sigh. “Pip? Why Pip to be exact?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he took a seat next to your lying figure, leaning back against his palms. “A couple years ago, right before I left. We had this small debate on happy endings and shakespearean works,” you started, gazing up at the starry night sky.
“I would constantly babble on and on about how women shouldn’t be the damsel in distress, then one day he whipped out this book out of nowhere like some sort of magician! It was called the Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, I finally finished when I left the city so I never got around to returning the book he let me borrowed,” you sighed, placing your hands on your tummy as you giggled at the thought of your first love possibly getting mad at you for leaving without a goodbye with the addition of not returning his book back.
Renjun’s heart raced at your small story, his body froze as his ears grew a slight tint of pink (which wasn’t very visible, thanks to the dim lighting of the moon shining down upon the two of you) when he realised that you were talking about him. You were talking about him all along. “I realised why he let me borrow the book though, I asked for an unhappy ending without the female protagonist being the damsel in distress. It was a beautiful story, really,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you thought back to the times you shared back in Edinburgh.
“He would always listen to my rambles as he painted some random landscape in town, showing me his talents as well as listening to my words as I ranted about the foolish decisions of the characters. He reminds me of Pip a little bit. A bit childish, a bit foolish, a little bit misunderstood,” you went on, before pausing briefly, eyes opening to look up at your new friend. “Should I stop? I don’t want to bore you with my story, I tend to ramble a lot unintentionally,” you asked, receiving an aggressive shake of Renjun’s head.
“No! No! Keep going, I’m getting very interested in your story, do continue,” he laughed lightly, looking down at his clock, biting back his lip to keep himself from jumping for joy. “The last day I saw him- oh god, I remember it every night before I go to bed. I never had my glasses on around him, so my memory of his physical appearance is rather blurry. But I remembered it like it was yesterday. Sure, I might not recognize him today with my own eyes but I remembered we almost shared a kiss,” a wide smile stretched across your face as a warm feeling bubbled up inside of you at the vivid memory.
“Yeah?” Renjun couldn’t help but let a wide smile spread across his own lips at the thought, turning his head to the side to suppress the urge to tackle you in a strong embrace. You remembered. “He offered to be my eyes, he offered to keep me from straying down the wrong path. I never got a chance to say yes,” you giggled, rubbing your palms against your eyes as you felt a giddy feeling inside both of your chests. “Guess he was too eager to kiss you before you could say yes?” Renjun joked, grimacing at his own childishness.
You chuckled, shrugging simply. “I guess so, I didn’t mind though. It felt exhilarating. I didn’t know how it happened but he also tore a little bit of my dress as well,” you shook your head, looking back up at the stars scattered across the sky. Oh how Renjun was using all the strength vested inside of him to keep his heart from going ‘cuckoo!’ right in front of you right now. “He might not remember me, I sent him a postcard a couple weeks ago. I never received one back. But someday, when we reunite, I’d like to thank him for the lovely book and for teaching me what love feels like.”
“Everytime I’m near his company I would always feel so safe. So happy, so loved. Genuinely happy and genuinely loved,” you sighed, closing your eyes once again as you took in the fresh air. “I’m sure he felt the same,” Renjun felt his cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. “Hey, can we see each other again?” he spoke after a moment of comforting silence. “Alright, when?” you opened your eyes, squinting your eyes suspiciously at him. “Noon? At the theater, I have something to tell you,” he grinned.
“Alright then, is something wrong? Why the funny face?” you chuckled, sitting up from your laying position, cocking your head to the side as you raised your eyebrow at him. “Nothing, I’m just really excited to show you this,” he shook his head, he couldn’t hide his big smile from you any longer.
Just like how he couldn’t hide his longing and love for you that he has been harboring for the past two years.
“She’s in love with me,” he said to Doyoung, who gave him a proud grin in return. “Congratulations, my dear boy! You tamed the spark in your heart,” he gave Renjun a pat on the back, who smiled sadly in response. “But there’s a problem. She’s in love with the other me, the one back in Edinburgh,” he sighed, sitting down on one of the seats in the theater. “I don’t see why this is a problem. The ‘you’ back in Edinburgh is still the same ‘you’ now!” Doyoung furrowed his brows in confusion.
“I assume so, but what am I supposed to say to her?” Renjun ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Tell her how you feel! ‘It’s me! Renjun! The boy you loved oh-so-dearly for all these years! Your first love from Edinburgh, I have travelled far and wide all over Europe to find you, my love. So now let me take your hand and let’s venture and sail for the skies! In each other’s loving embrace!’” Doyoung boomed, throwing his hand in the air to make grand gestures as he spoke, standing up in the midst of his words.
“Quite poetic, but I tried. The words are jammed at the back of my throat and I can’t let them out,” Renjun huffed, internally cursing at himself for holding himself back because of a small guilt lingering in his chest. “You’re still afraid of what might become of your heart once you fall completely, aren’t you?” Doyoung sympathized, putting a hand on his hip as he frowned upon his young friend’s unfortunate condition. “A part of me is still guilty for putting all of Madam Wendy’s efforts in vain,” Renjun laughed bitterly.
“I thought you wanted to love and to be loved back, you mustn’t be afraid!” Doyoung encouraged, using the same tone he used previously to influence all of Renjun’s previous actions with a wide toothy smile. “You’re eighteen, you deserve the love you’ve been longing for, Renjun.”
Renjun bit back a smile, shaking his head out of his insecurities as he stood up to his feet. “You’re right, I should’ve just told her who I was at the start. You have to help me come up with something.”
-
“Renjun? Are you here?” You called out, entering the theater bashfully. “Right here, Ms!” Naeun, Doyoung’s new friend, coaxed, waving her hand to tell you to sit on the front row, right in front of the stage. A familiar merry tune played in the background as the curtains were pulled back to reveal two puppets of what appeared to be you and a familiar little boy from Edinburgh. Doyoung came into view, clearing his throat as Naeun strummed the chords of the song you sang on the day you met your first love with a ukulele in her hand.
“It was a lovely day in Edinburgh,” Doyoung began, looking towards the puppets. “Little miss y/n who was sixteen years old was dancing around in her dainty shoes, getting her feet all in a tangle before tumbling down to the floor due to her own clumsiness,” Renjun added with a small nervous laugh, moving his own little puppet around and towards the mini puppet version of yourself. “On the day they first met, she would ask ‘what’s that odd pitter patter?’ ‘What’s making that noise?’” Naeun hummed melodiously, causing your eyes to widen with every single word that comes out of their mouths.
“It’s just the rain, do you like the rain?” Renjun asked, shooting you a short glance as if to say ‘sounds familiar?’
You furrowed your brows, lips pressed into a thin line as you silently watched the performance in front of you, taking every single last bit of information they were sharing into your head as took in the meaning of their words. “Miss Y/n adored the sound of the rain, but however, all this time she didn’t realise that the sound she came to adore came from the tick tock of Renjun’s mechanical heart,” Doyoung recited, looking down on his little card before sharing a knowing look with Renjun and Naeun upon seeing the flabbergasted expression etched on your face.
“Oh, how if he had told her where that pitter patter had come from, would she recognize him the instant they reunite? Would Renjun have to suffer the pain of travelling half across Europe to see her only to not be recognized for the little lady could not rely on her own eyes?” he added on, adding a bit of suspense as the settings on the puppet show changed slightly to the two of you sitting on top of a crescent moon side by side, sending you flashbacks to the last day you saw your first love.
“Perhaps, if he had told her, would she have believed him and sampled the magical intimacy of blending dream and reality?”
Soon, your eyes got glossy with tears. Your heart racing rapidly against your chest as you sat there in complete silence, the new information overwhelming your sentences as you watched the two puppets kissed on the crescent moon, the exact same way you were supposed to kiss two years ago. You sniffled, putting a hand up against one of your eyes to keep your tears from falling as Renjun walked up towards you and off of the stage with his hands behind his back.
The curtains closed as he gave you a boyish smile, outstretching his hand to show you the piece of fabric he accidentally tore from your dress and the postcard you had sent out almost a month ago. You gasped, delicate fingers gently grabbing the postcard to inspect it. It was indeed the postcard you had sent, it was indeed your handwriting, it was indeed the same filthy postcard you sent a month ago.
Within a few seconds, you fell unconscious as all this information was too much for you to handle.
“Oh bloody hell, we killed her!” Renjun cried out in panic, taking a step back in alarm at your sudden concussion. Doyoung and Naeun’s head shot from in between the curtains, hissing at him to not panic and carry you back to your trailer. He sucked his bottom lip as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your knees and your back, making you lean against his chest, your head so close to his. He gulped as he walked out of the theater, nervously praying to whatever God up there is watching him to not make him drop you in the middle of the streets.
But fortunately for him, he managed to carry you back to your bed safe and sound. Laying your head on the pillow, he stood idly on the side of your bed, watching your sleeping features. You looked so content, his fingers itched to run themselves around your hair and to caress your cheeks. Oh how he longed to nuzzle his nose against yours lovingly and how he longed to press his lips against yours-
‘A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!’
He grunted as his body twitched as his guardian’s words flashed through his mind like lightning and thunder, Madam Wendy’s sorrowful expression couldn’t help but make its way through his mind, causing his body to twitch once again. He took deep, staggering breaths as he palmed his heart in pain, eyes moving over to your sleeping figure before Madam Wendy appeared once again in his vision.
‘Do you know why I saved your life?’
“If you really are the boy from my time in Edinburgh, why did you wait all this time?”
His head shot up at the sound of your voice, his eyes wandered to your figure as you stared down at the piece of fabric. “What can I say? You’re an idiot, I feared you won’t recognize me considering you’ve never actually used your glasses during our small encounters,” Renjun chuckled sadly, sitting on your bed as you sat up and leaned on the headboard. “You didn’t even say goodbye, I thought you left because you were in shock of my sudden concussion on that day,” he said half-jokingly, putting a hand behind his neck.
You gave him a sad smile, caressing the postcard with your thumb. “My parents were tricked that day. They trusted the wrong person and the police got a hold of them, my mother left me outside all alone so the police wouldn’t find me and take me away too,” you explained, pulling your knees to your chest as you leaned your chin on your arms. “I remembered being so alone, so cold. That’s why I decided to flee Edinburgh, we weren’t allowed to stay for too long. Our neighbour told us they were going to get us permits but the next day… unfortunately that happened.”
Renjun’s heart ached for you, he never wanted to see you sad. Even though you weren’t supposed to be in Edinburgh in the first place, he felt slightly selfish for it. If it weren’t for the fact that your parents had moved her, maybe your parents would still be by your side to this day. However you can’t change what’s been done, the past is the past. He couldn’t do anything to make the pain of losing a parent go away that easily.
He placed a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb soothingly against your knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort you. You smiled at him, scooting closer to Renjun without hesitation. “I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t know,” Renjun spoke briefly, letting your fingers intertwine with his own tightly. He reached over to his pocket, pulling out the key to his heart and tugged your intertwined fingers together. “I can’t make the pain of losing your loved ones go away like a magician could, but the only thing I can assure you is that I’m not going anywhere and this key is the living proof of it.”
He laid the small golden key in your palm, tucking your fingers against it. “This is the key that winds me up, without it, I would be knocked out for good,” he chuckled, gazing his eyes deeply into yours. “You can wind me up, open up my heart, do whatever you want,” he shrugged, watching you scoot closer to him and mirrored the same actions as the ones he showed you on the Ghost Train. “If it hurts, don’t hesitate to tell me,” you informed him, turning the key to the right slowly.
“It doesn’t usually hurt,” he laughed lightly, eyes filled with love and adoration. He felt his heart spark up with the same comforting flame you manage to set. He found comfort in the love of his life gently caressing his fragile heart as if it was made out of the rarest jewels in existence.
He found comfort in you. You really are the key to his heart.
“There you are, you little brat!” the owner of the ghost train spat, entering the trailer quite rudely. “You there, what are you doing holding back my employee? As if he doesn’t slack off enough on the job,” she sighed exasperatedly, taking out another cig from her pocket before lighting it up. “You have ten minutes to get there, it’s almost starting,” she hissed, her tone filled with anger and malice as she made her way out of the trailer with a huff of breath.
You and Renjun shared knowing looks, giggling softly as you pulled the key out of his heart. “I think we should get going,” you said in an almost hushed tone as if you were to make a louder sound, you would break the comforting silence between the two of you. You outstretched your hand to give him back his key but Renjun shook his head at you, chuckling softly as he gently curled your fingers against the key in your palms and gently pushed your hand back towards you.
“Keep it, I insist,” he shook his head. “What? No, don’t be silly! It’s the key to your heart, Renjun. It’s yours, I can’t keep it,” you shook your head receiving the same chuckle from the boy in front of you. “No, from now on, it’s yours,” he grabbed your free hand in his, intertwining your fingers once again. “Let’s run away together,” he suggested, squeezing your hand in his as he crossed his legs together.
“Excuse me?” your eyes widened at his words. “After your show, run away with me and let’s make the world our oyster,” he gave you the widest grin he could muster, his cheeks was starting to hurt from smiling too much and for too long. He didn’t know where the sudden suggestion came from his mind but he wanted to do what he’s always dreamt of doing with you, to sail for the skies hand in hand with you by his side. (And maybe live a content life in a cottage with three cats and a whole art studio, but that can wait. After all, he’s waited this long to finally reunite with you)
“This is going to sound very cliche but where would we even go?” you giggled, finding his eagerness quite adorable considering it was a rare sight to see, even back when you were still in Edinburgh. “I don’t know, anywhere! The seas, the trees, as long as I’m with you I’m willing to make do with anywhere. As long as you say yes,” he squeezed your hand encouragingly against his, loving eyes pleading for you to say yes. And the smile you gave him was enough to give him his answer.
-
Renjun ran all over the amusement park with his suitcase in hand, the sound of your voice booming through the speakers as he felt the adrenaline rush through his veins, happiness surging through every part of his body. He was finally living, he was no longer going to live in the same, miserable hollow shell he had been living his whole entire life. A bright smile spread across his face as he entered the theater, panting heavily.
“Well then?” Doyoung pipped up, putting his hands at his hips as Renjun gained his composure as though Renjun’s wide smile hadn’t given him the answer he was hoping for. “She loves me, the real me,” he sighed exasperatedly, putting his hands on his chest as he could hardly believe it himself. “Congratulations, my dear boy! I’m delighted for you, absolutely delighted,” he gave Renjun a hug and patted his back as if he was his own younger brother.
“We’re going to run away for the hills together after her show, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sure I wouldn’t have done this without your help,” Renjun beamed, pulling away to shake his old friend’s hand enthusiastically, his mechanical heart racing rapidly against his chest at the thought of eloping with you all over Europe. “I’m going to miss you, Renjun. Do write to me from time to time,” he gave him a nod, a proud smile etched on his face, causing Renjun to chuckle and nod. “Of course.”
As Renjun was in the middle of packing, your show had finally ended. You snuck back in your trailer to pack your own clothes, but then you saw none other than one of your fellow performers, Choi San, sitting on your desk with a small piece of paper in hand. “San? What on earth are you doing here?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you took out your suitcases from your closet. “I heard you’re going to run off with that new boy,” he grinned, chuckling slightly as he smacked the paper against your desk. “Renjun? Oh! Turns out, he was the boy I fell in love with back in Edinburgh,” you giggled, shoving random clothes into your suitcase, your makeup bags, your shoes, anything you could possibly fit into one single bag.
“I need to tell you something before you get into serious trouble,” San informed, giving you a hard expression before hopping off your desk to hand you the piece of paper. “I was doing my daily letter checking at the post office and I found this in the mail, it was from Renjun’s guardian from Edinburgh,” he sighed, crossing his arms as you opened the piece of paper to reveal a fancy handwriting underneath. “It tells you everything you need to know about Renjun.”
You squinted, pulling your glasses from your purse and putting them on. “What are you going on about here, San?” you furrowed your brows as you read through the letter. It was indeed from the ‘Madam Wendy’ Renjun would always rant to you about during your days together back in Edinburgh. “That thing he calls a heart, it’s not what you think it is. It’s a grenade, a ticking time bomb waiting to be triggered, he’s dangerous, y/n,” San informed, his hard expression turning into worry.
“I'm just glad I came here before it was too late,” he sighed in relief, looking down at his feet. “No, San, you must be mistaken. Renjun wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s absolutely harmless!” You shook your head, refusing to believe his words as you looked down at the letter. “For now, but until he loses control of his heart and therefore fails to abide by the three rules Wendy had given him on the day he was born,” San informed, his eyes narrowing at the letter.
“The three rules?” you furrowed your brows at him, watching as San’s expression grew dim with sympathy. “Everything you need to know is in that letter, I’ll give you some time to yourself,” San patted your back with a comforting smile before exiting the trailer, leaving you with the letter and your own thoughts.
-
“Are you trying to make me a murderer?!” you exclaimed, exiting your trailer with your fists clenched up tightly by your side. “Excuse me?” Renjun furrowed his brows in confusion, being taken aback as he took a step towards you with his suitcase in hand. “What are you even talking about?” he asked, letting the air sink back into his lungs from all the running he had to do all over the amusement park. “Madam Wendy told me everything in this letter,” you shoved the letter against his chest, watching as shock took over his features.
“Wendy sent a letter?” he gaped, his jaw dropping to the floor as he inspected what seems to be his caretaker’s handwritten letter. “She told me about the three rules, how you ran away against her wishes, everything! Were you not going to tell me these important details?” you hopped off of the first few steps of your trailer to come closer to the boy you love deeply in front of you. “Or did you forget to tell me something as serious as that?” you snapped, sadness and betrayal flossing over your eyes.
Renjun felt his heart sink into his stomach at your hurtful expression, he was so caught up in the fantasy of running away with you, he completely forgot about his fragile condition for a brief moment. “Who even are you, Renjun? I want to know who’s the man I’m falling in love with,” you gripped the hem of your dress to keep yourself from screaming at him out of pure frustration and anger, feeling your heart ready to explode at the fact that you had the potential to kill him if your relationship proceeded from this far on.
“I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if you died,” you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat, looking down to hide your glossy eyes as you tried your best not to think of what would happen to him if you hadn’t received that letter.
Renjun froze in place, his eyes turning glossy with his own tears as he watched you speak, the words jammed at the back of his throat as he knew, deep down, there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was far too late, he can’t do anything to change your mind anymore. “I refuse to love you, I refuse to be a murderer. That’s not my idea of love,” you shook your head at him, putting the back of your hand against your eyelids to wipe away the tears. Every word that came out of your mouth felt like a dagger into his mechanical heart. It hurt. Renjun was hurting. His heart was breaking right in front of you, and you both knew it.
“It’s selfish,” you couldn’t help but splutter out. “No, wait. You got it all wrong, y/n,” he finally spoke up, frustration filling his veins as he found the courage to speak up. “Oh, so you didn’t escape your guardian’s home without permission, thus causing her to worry about you for the past few weeks with no information whatsoever?” you snapped, putting your hands on your hips after you wiped your tears away. “Yes, but that isn’t the problem here!” he shook his head, taking a step towards you as he groaned in frustration.
“There you go! Oh, so now you’re going to disobey another rule and lose your temper?”
“It’s not like that! Just listen to me-” Renjun reached his hand out to your face before his body started twitching in pain, causing him to drop on his knees as gears and screws popped out of his heart. You gasped, watching as your lover writhe in pain on his knees, letting out pained grunts for the next fifteen seconds right in front of you. Thus, giving you a brief image of what was going to happen if you continued on.
“You’re scaring me, Renjun.”
“I’m sorry.” he breathed out, putting his hand on his knees as he ignored the steaming state of his cuckoo clock heart. Your eyes softened at his guilty figure, your hands laying limp by your sides as you let out a sad sigh. “Goodbye, Renjun.” Were your last words before you walked away from him, leaving him to deal with his own pain.
“I did the craziest things for you. My life isn’t always topsy turvy when it comes to love, but I put my life in your hands because I truly love you,” Renjun confessed, causing you to pause in your step. You inhaled deeply, not giving him a spare glance. “Yes, I agree, your actions are inhumane at this point, but count me out, Renjun,” you hissed back, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep yourself from shaking and breaking down right in front of him. “I’d prefer you to be hurt like this than dead, I can’t live with myself if I was the reason for your passing,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes briefly.
“Please just leave me alone. I’m not running away with you.”
You didn’t look back as you walked away, ignoring the sound of a distraught Renjun getting to his knees, holding his heart in pain. His eyes scrunched up in pain as he let out small grunts, trying to get to his feet back to make his way back to the theater. He collapsed back to the concrete ground as soon as he got to his feet, the ear piercing sound of his clock falling apart before him lingered in his mind as cogs and screws popped out of his makeshift heart. He wanted to scream out your name and plead for you to come back into his embrace, but he knew you wouldn’t turn back.
So he did the only thing that came into his mind in order to stop this unbearable pain. He got up to his feet, putting two hands on his clock and pulled hard, ignoring the physical pain it brought him as he tried to rip out his own heart from his chest. Letting out a scream of pain as he collapsed to the floor, pieces of wood and metal scattering across the floor and drops of blood dripping from the doors of his heart.
“Renjun!”
Doyoung and Naeun came up to Renjun as quickly as they could, holding him up as he coughed heavily. “I want to change into a new clock, I’m so tired of this one constantly falling into bits every time I feel the slightest bit of joy,” he mumbled almost monotonously, letting out another fit of coughs afterward. “Madam Wendy was right,” he added with a light painful laugh. “I suppose I have some spare parts to help you fix your clock from my camera, I’ll go get them-” Doyoung insisted but Renjun gripped on the older man’s wrist urgently.
“No, I want a new heart. I’m tired of this one. One that works. I’ll never fall in love again,” he leaned over, cupping his mouth as he coughed once again, feeling more gears pop out of his clock like a confetti from a canon. “You’re running out of time, Renjun, you must seek help immediately. Is there anything you can do to salvage what’s left of your heart until you get back to Edinburgh?” Doyoung asked, furrowing his brows. “I can’t, I gave the key to Y/n. She left me, I can’t get it back anymore,” Renjun shook his head sadly, looking down at his own blood staining his fingertips.
“That key is your life, Renjun! You took a huge risk,” Doyoung shook his head at how deeply in love the boy in front of him was. “I know,” he mumbled, his words becoming more breathy by the moment. “You must return to Edinburgh and have Wendy patch you up again, it’s the only way to save your life,” Doyoung slung an arm around his shoulder, lifting him up as Naeun helped with carrying his suitcase.
Doyoung led a heartbroken Renjun onto a carriage to the nearest train station. He insisted on coming with the young lad but Renjun wanted to face the consequences of his actions alone, he couldn’t bear to rip his friend away from the path of success he was walking into. So, with a heavy heart, Renjun rode the train back to Edinburgh with his eyes closed and his heart hurting like hell against his chest.
‘This must be the same feeling Pip went through when Estella finally broke his heart to elope with some other man she didn’t love.’ he thought bitterly to himself.
-
“Madam Wendy what?” your jaw dropped as San shared a new bit of information.
He leaned over, showing you the newspaper he was reading which informed you that Madam Wendy had passed in her prison cell. Apparently, she was caught for tampering with mechanics on a dangerous level with her other patients and was thrown in jail once again, but the disappearance of her adopted child had a great impact on her health, therefore she left her body in the cell she was staying in.
“Oh, no. Oh dear god, no,” you hopped out of San’s performance tent, patting your pockets and pulling out the key that belongs to Renjun’s heart. “What’s wrong?” San asked, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth as he stood up as well, worried as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Renjun gave me the key to his heart, I forgot to give it back,” you yelled back, running as quick as you could to the theater, the only place where Renjun could be at the moment.
You knocked as hard as you could, calling out the boy’s name in a panic. “Miss Y/n? What are you doing here?” Doyoung asked, opening the door as he rubbed his eyes from the lack of sleep. “Can you tell me where I can find Renjun? I still have the key to his heart,” you asked in an abrupt tone, showing the older man the key in your palms. “Nothing to worry about, Miss! He’s on his way back to Edinburgh as we speak, Doctor Wendy can patch him up in a jiffy!” Doyoung smiled.
“That’s what I’m afraid of, oh god, no. But Madam Wendy’s passed away,” you informed, clenching your fists with the key in your hand. Doyoung’s eyes widened in surprise, his face turning pale at your words. “Oh boy, that isn’t good news. Go after him, hurry! Save Renjun before it’s too late, that’s what he wants more than anything. I put him on a carriage to the nearest train station. If you’re lucky, you might catch him on the train before it departs,” Doyoung rummaged through his bag, pulling out a random journal.
“Here, take this. In case you don’t catch up to him, here’s something to read on the way. It’s a journal I kept ever since the very day I met Renjun,” he handed you the journal as Naeun called another carriage for you to ride to the train station. You sighed, your head filled with worry as you looked up at the two adults willing to help you save Renjun despite the fact that you were the main reason why he was in this mess in the first place.
“Thank you.”
-
Renjun laid in the snow, near the house where he used to call home. Sniffling as he leaned against the tree at the bottom of the hill. Joy and Yeri had contacted him and brought him the news of his caretaker’s passing. Sulking as guilt took over his body, regretting every single decision he had made the past few months. And now he’s going to suffer the consequences of dying all alone. He couldn’t walk into his own home after the news, choosing to lay down under the snow to let himself slowly freeze to death and possibly hypothermia.
So now, he was taking his last few breaths, enjoying the bright sky as he watched his skin froze, tears slowly turning into eyes as he laid there all heartbroken and damaged. His hair was white from the snowfall, with bits of brown peaking out in between as he sniffled and sobbed over the loss of his mother. Taking deep breaths to regain his composure, as his skin grew numb against the cold.
“Renjun! I’m here!”
It was as if the God above had decided to send an angel back to help him, he slowly looked up with half lidded eyes, a small shaky smile spreading across his lips as you fell to your knees to help him. “Renjun, oh dear god, no,” you whimpered, leaning close as you laid a hand on his jaw, making him lean his head up to look at you weakly. You grimaced at his cold skin, it felt like ice to you. It was as if he was turning into a giant ice cube right in front of you.
His appearance made your heart break. He looked so pale and broken since the last time you saw him. His eyes were red and swollen from the tears, snow gathering on his eyelashes, eyebrows, hair and clothing. Hell, he was wearing nothing but the thin coat he wore the last time you saw him. Dried blood was stuck to his cuckoo clock heart which was in a worse condition than it was back in Andalusia. You ran your thumb over his soft cheek, making him lean his face against your warm touch as you wiped the snow away from his skin. His breathing was slow, as if he was taking every breath he could before his last.
With a shaky hand, you placed what's left of his heart back into their original place, your breathing becoming shaky as you held back your tears. It truly hurt you to see Renjun in this state, you knew he was on the brink of death. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if you had arrived much much later.
You pulled out the key to his heart from the inner pocket of your coat, leaning forward to press the key into his heart. But alas, his hand stopped you as he gently gripped your wrist and pulled it away from him. “No, I’m not too late. I’m not letting you die here, just let me turn the key,” you shook your head, blinking back the tears as you pushed your glasses up from the bridge of your nose. “I came back to save you, please just let me do this,” you pleaded, caressing his cheek with your thumb in a futile attempt to convince the love of your life to let you save him.
“You came all the way back for me,” a tear streaked down Renjun’s cheek which froze under the cold atmosphere, sticking to his cheek. “That’s the most extraordinary turn you could ever give my heart,” he laughed slightly, half lidded eyes trying their best to stay open as his vision began to grow blurry and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was losing consciousness or if it was because of the tears he was holding back.
He tugged the key out of your hand before tossing it over the hill. “No, Renjun, what did you do?!” you panicked, your eyes growing wide at the key disappearing from your line of vision. “No, why did you do that?” you shook your head at him, pressing your body close to him as he leaned his back against the tree. “From now on, whatever happens to me,” Renjun spoke, giving you the same boyish smile he sent your way on your last day in Edinburgh two years ago. “I’ll only have myself to blame,” he sighed, intertwining your free hand with his icy cold one.
“So now you can kiss me.”
Your heart broke as you finally let your tears go, squeezing his hand tightly in yours as you sniffled. “As I said before, the things you do are absolutely inhumane,” you pushed your forehead against his, feeling your tears hit his wet clothes as you felt his other hand go to your jaw. “I’m just upset I never got to give you the painting I’d been working so hard on for all these years,” he chuckled, his eyes growing even more red as his tears streamed down his face like a leaking tap.
He caressed your jaw in his hand, eyes scanning your face one last time as he came with the fact that this was your last goodbye before he leaves for good. “If we were ever to be reborn again, I would still wish and pray for the gods to make you my first and last love,” he couldn’t help but laugh to stifle a sob that erupted from his throat. “And if we were ever to be reborn again, I hope you can always continue to smile like that until the day you close your eyes for good,” you nuzzled your forehead against his, sniffling hard.
Thus with eyes clenched shut, you and Renjun pressed your lips together in unison for a passionate yet innocent kiss. You could hear the last strike of Renjun’s ticking clock, a loud ‘cuckoo’ piercing the quiet atmosphere as Renjun pulled you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your back and leaning his head to the side for a better angle. Your warm soft lips pressed onto his cold chapped ones, wet from the snow. Your intertwined hands squeezing each other as you felt his mechanical heart put a ring on your own.
The next time Renjun opened his eyes, he was at the gates of heaven, standing in front of an actual angel with a bright expression on his face. “Huang Renjun, I assume?” the angel greeted, a soft smile spreading across their face as Renjun nodded. “You seem a bit too young to be up in heaven. Aren’t you just 18 years old?” the angel asked, pulling out a clipboard to look through Renjun’s life data. “I was almost nineteen, though,” Renjun shrugged, his wide smile never disappearing from his facial features.
“I’m so sorry you had to leave life so soon, young man,” the angel cooed, taking out a pen from their desk as they began to fill out Renjun’s form for his plans now that he’s in the afterlife. “Care to tell me what happened while I do the paperwork for you?” the angel asked, sticking their tongue out as they wrote Renjun’s life information on the glowing paper with a messy handwriting, reminding him of the postcard you had sent him less than a couple months ago.
Renjun looked around the bright place he was in, sighing heavily as he stared up the gates of heaven with a content expression. He swiped his tongue over his pink lips as he finally felt his heart no longer empty,
“I fell in love.”
a/n: i didn’t like how this turned out lmfao but oh well HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, HUANG RENJUN MWUAH
¤ taglist: @leetaeyonglover @lebrookestore @oifelixcmerebrou @vera-liscious @kunrengui @thats-a-jen-no-no
#NCT-WRITERS#neowritingsnet#neoculturecafe#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#renjun x reader#huang renjun x reader#nct u x reader#nct renjun x reader#nct angst#renjun angst#renjun scenarios#huang renjun scenarios#nct dream renjun x reader
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Why I love LeviHan (a rant)
So I'm pretty new to the LeviHan community and I just wanted to rant about how much of a work of art this fucking ship is even though I have no idea whether Isayama did it on purpose or not. But damn, this ship literally introduced me to the drama of shipping fluff and AUs --- two genres I used to avoid like the plague because never have I felt such adamance for a ship to set sail in YEARS since Percabeth back in high school.
To give some background about myself, the past five years, I was no fan of ships. Like literally, I tried to avoid shipping fics like the plague (for any fandom) because I was like "come on war racial war, zombie like monsters? Who has time to fall in love?" A lot of non romance shows don’t leave time for a relationship to develop and we literally just get a time skip where suddenly they pair people up together and I’m like woop good story but yo how the heck did they end up together.
In real life, I also did get into a healthy relationship with a guy, a slow burn after five years type and I thought yeah I've seen how I want a relationship to develop and now imma be picky as fuck with ships.
I did end up picky as fuck with ships but Isayama with the minimal screen time he actually gave this ship to set sail with probably minimal intention to actually confirm their ship got me climbing into this ship while it sunk canonically after chapter 132 because holy fuck ISAYAMA YOU MAD MAN.
Let's talk about how they were introduced. Trost is destroyed. Titans are impossible to kill then whoop. We get a group of weirdos and outcasts who can somehow kill titans like crazy.
Strong titan slayer dude.
Strong titan slayer girl. (Hange is female to me.)
Cool commander dude.
Cool interesting characters. Eren's dream team since episode 1. Two captains. Constantly together. Erwin is their glue. Nothing suspicious about that. They work together. They're too busy fighting Titans to actually be considering a relationship right??
Besides, Hange and Levi are just way too different like
Levi is like *slash slash slash I hate titans u ugly* *slash slash slash eww titan blood* *slash slash slash kill Titans they're all monsters*
Hange is like *slash slash slash oooh titan blood* *slash slash slash dont kill them i wanna dissect them* *doesn't slash* titans make me horny.
Like sure we could argue opposites attract but there are more cases where opposite personality dating would probably backfire and with the idiosyncrasies of both parties at polar ends of the spectrum it just didn't seem possible for there to be a spark? Like logistically they would tear each other's hair out if they were stuck together in a relationship.
At that point, Erwin being the middle ground between both captain weirdos, I couldn't help but think shipping Erwin with either of them would have been the more realistic option.
Season 2 had its fair share the first two scenes with Levi picking her up and the carriage. Didn't see anything too sparky yet and yes the last scene where he could tell who she is by her knock. (but yes sparks flew in hindsight).
Season 3: Erwin the glue gets trapped in capital due to political reasons and only one arm. Two captains forced to combine forces to manage the survey corps in peril. They get their bonding moments like torturing some dude together and reflecting over the untimely deaths of Hange’s squad. (and maybe Levi’s squad too)
They separate while coup d'etat happens because their skills were needed elsewhere. They got to save Eren and like hours later in the cavern Levi was especially concerned about Hange when she got shot by the hook back in the cavern like you don't see that concern with any other character except maybe Erwin. (But it can be argued that maybe all the other people he ever loved died too fast he never got the time to be concerned.)
All the way until the battle of Shiganshina Levi is usually with Hange.
When he’s not with her, there’s a reason (usually Erwin’s orders.)
When he's not with her he's thinking about her.
Then Erwin their magical glue of a commander does die and the captains gotta stick together even without the glue because they're the last two surviving people in the old survey corps.
It's apparent Levi hates the changes made to the survey corps because he still keeps the green cloak which everyone kinda abandoned. So it can be argued that Hänge was also that last bit of fresh air Levi had of the olden days.
So
they're
together
in
almost
Every
Friking
Scene
Like you can't blame them. Levi is anti social and traditional survey corps type.
Hange is still reeling from the loss of Erwin and her quick rise to power as commander.
They may have differing personalities but they had the same history. They both know loss, bloodshed and battle the survey corps brings that no one else probably understands to the extent they do.
And we get the bombshell of this scene.
Hange literally proposes to him that they just run away to the forest and just build a life for themselves and the cold harsh brazen Levi doesn't outright reject it.
He instead acknowledges what he knows about her that she'll never do that. This only confirms that they know each other too well, that they have a bond that exists between them which cannot so easily be replaced by anyone else.
And then a few chapters later
Dead.
And sure yeah Levi didn't cry but like yo, the way Levi handled her death is worse than crying. We have never seen Levi react to a death like this.
Levi is holding on to the hand which touched Hange’s.
Levi just sits down in the middle of a pivotal scene and where he might end up fighting any minute coz like what's life he literally lost everything he could have lived for.
Like sure people who don't think LeviHan is canon would say “He’s injured. He’s tired.”
Just a few chapters ago though we got him ready to fight
"That’s the last person left of course it would break him more than anything"
That's the point. They're complete opposites they've been together for years and even if the chemistry wasn't there before, even if they would never have gotten along at all, personality and logistics-wise, they were placed in a situation where their glue Erwin died, everything of the life they knew before, all their loved ones in the survey corps died and now they were left with the responsibility of managing what's left and being the only two people with a shared history.
That literally set up one of the best places for a fucking romance to bloom. Yet the war and the circumstances just made it so hard for them to act upon it yet somehow the manga and anime were peppered with this cool understanding of
Yo I want you.
like maybe when we retire let's keep in touch and I dunno have babies or something
But yeah yo we gotta fight.
Then Levi be like “Yeah babies be a good idea?” (Titans don’t love you. I love you.)
Death foreshadowing
Then Levi
Is
Fucking
Broken
Like we've never seen him before.
Wow isayama the madman didn't need to build this masterpiece of a relationship from love at first sight, to confessions, to placing them in unnatural situations for sexual tension.
He built a subtle relationship out of necessity, out of the need for some humanity in this dark world. Two people placed at the lead at the forefront of this war, willing to adjust, willing to change and work despite their differences because they needed that warmth, they needed the reminder that there exists happiness and hope in this world which transcends all that bullshit they have experienced to that point until her death.
I really wish I could experience that epiphany again with another couple.
I applaud the subtlety of this relationship and the natural development of one of the best ships I have experienced in a long while.
#levihan#levi x hanji#levi x hange#levi ackerman#hange zoë#hange zoe#hanji zoe#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#ship
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Can I have another loki fic with stomach ache? Any pairing is good. Also, the fic you wrote for me earlier was amazing! Now I want more....
These Chains Around Our Hearts
Pairing: Loki/Steve Rogers
"Another war movie?"
"This one’s said to be...not bad."
“Not bad,” Loki echoed. “Not one for overselling, are you?”
“I haven’t had much luck trying to impress you with my movie choices,” Steve said. “But it did win around seven Oscars or something so...not that that’s a true indication of what makes a movie great but it’s on my bucket list and I thought we could - ”
With a tease of a smile, Loki plucked the DVD cover out of Steve’s hand; for some reason, the good captain looked flustered. "Tut-tut, Captain. I was not questioning your taste in movies nor your diligence in compiling your list of buckets.”
“'Bridge On The River Kwai'," he read. "Sounds promising. Was this your war?”
“I’ve fought many,” Steve said, smiling faintly. “But you could say this was my first, yes. Only it was fought on a different front.”
“Then let’s watch it, shall we?” Loki asked brightly.
“I’ll be right with you. I just need to grab a few snacks from the kitchen - ”
“But we just ate,” Loki grumbled to himself as he picked a corner to get comfortable in, making sure there was ample room on the couch for Steve when he returned.
The pot pie Steve made for dinner had been a tad too rich and Loki felt uncomfortably full despite not having eaten very much. He listened to the sounds of Steve pottering about in the kitchen and wondered if he had any space left to fit whatever bonne bouche his host had prepared for their movie night.
Loki had suspected from the start, back when they first started seeing each other, that Steve was one nervous entertainer. True enough, when the super soldier emerged from the kitchen, his already impressive arms were burgeoning with bags of crispy, salty things, jars of dips and cans of drinks.
“Oh my.” Loki eyed the smorgasbord laid before him critically. “Is that all?"
"It's not enough? I could get some more - " But before Steve could make a beeline for the kitchen once more, a hand touched his wrist.
"I was teasing."
They settled into their usual seating arrangement, not too close but at a companiable distance from each other. Steve and his appetite dived face-first into the tortilla chips and dips, but Loki refused to partake, what with his stomach feeling as unsettled as it was.
For a film made in the fifties, Loki found it quite impressive, almost believable even, if one had not lived through the dark times first-hand.
“Did you win it?” Loki asked. “Your first war?”
Loki’s vast knowledge of the cosmos and all it contained was legendary and Steve for one knew it included Midgardian history, so there was no way this was not a trick question. “In a manner of speaking.”
“You were fighting the same war, you said. Did it look like this?” Loki pointed at the screen with his regal chin.
“No,” Steve shuddered. After the surrender of Germany in 1945, the Allied forces’ attention shifted east, and this was a film depicting the horrors of the time.
How many of his comrades-in-arms had been taken prisoner? Forced to live in squalid conditions, ravaged by disease and starved slowly to death as they slaved away in the harsh tropical sun piecing the Railway of Death track by track?
"The Auschwitz of the East." The thousand-yard stare bruised Steve's baby blues to a dark, angry cobalt. "I don't know if I could have survived it."
"Of course you would," Loki said firmly. "If any man could, it's you."
Steve's mind turned, uncertain if he was deserving of such high praise, especially when it came from none other than Loki, the God of Chaos himself.
"I am familiar with the concept of war. I was Odin's war trophy after all," Loki said casually.
Steve turned his head slowly.
"Story for another day, Captain," Loki forced a smile; he was no longer in the mood for a romantic evening, let alone a heartfelt tete-a-tete. The vague discomfort in his belly was commanding more and more of his attention by the minute.
He laid a hand on his stomach. When it twinged again, Loki knew he was in for a long, long night.
Steve caught Loki's sigh. "Loki?"
"I'm fine," he said gruffly.
Now showing was a scene depicting insubordination among the ranks, and by the time the Japanese sergeant had finished giving the prisoners a dressing-down and placed them in a punishment hut, the twinging in Loki's stomach had blossomed into a full-blown ache that no amount of rubbing was helping.
Steve caught Loki's hand grabbing his waist again. "You okay?"
"I am fine, Captain."
"Are you sure?"
"I seem to have what you Midgardians call a stitch," Loki said as he kneaded his side gently, his smile wan. "It is nothing."
At being denied its existence, Loki's stomach voiced its protest in the form of a loud, whining rumble.
"That doesn't sound like a stitch."
"You are not going to let this go, are you?"
Steve groped for the remote control that had slipped somewhere down the side of the couch. "Yeah, no. We can continue watching some other time."
Ignoring Loki's mewl of protest, he stabbed the pause button before he stood up, gathering the uneaten snacks and drinks to clear the table.
Loki rose to help, but as soon as he did, a sudden pain lanced through his abdomen, sharper than anything he had felt tonight, and he sank back onto the couch with a gasp.
Steve dropped everything with a crash. "Loki, what's going on?"
A tense few seconds later, the pained expression on Loki's face eased and his whole body relaxed. "Something I ate is not sitting right with me, that is all."
"Do you want some water?"
Loki shook his head.
"Do you feel sick?" Steve pressed.
A wince. "A little. There is a slight ache, it is more uncomfortable than painful really."
"Somehow I don't think slight means quite the same with you guys," Steve sighed. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Only Steve could say something like that without sounding chastising or judgemental, only worried if not a little bit sad.
"It was not my intention to keep anything from you, Captain," Loki said placatingly. "And I speak true, it is only a mild discomfort. Perhaps I merely overindulged."
It was evident from the look on Steve's face that he did not believe a single word Loki said.
With a sigh, Steve patted his thigh. "Come lie down."
A flush of colour suffused Loki's cheeks. "I can't possibly."
He felt Steve lay a hand on his back, contemplated leaning into it, but the thought was obliterated by a fresh round of cramps so intense they folded him in half.
These things happen at the worst possible time, Loki cursed silently, groaning into his knees in sheer frustration.
Steve must have mistaken his moan for one of pain for suddenly, a strong arm enveloped Loki from behind and pull him down.
Resist, don't give in, resi -
"Loki."
Like magic, the gentleness with which Steve said his name drained all the tension from Loki's body and sapped him of the energy to remain upright. He sagged sideways in a slump.
Utterly mortified by his inelegant tumble into Steve's lap, Loki hid his face against a taut, well-muscled thigh. To his credit, the captain said absolutely nothing, only running a hand up and down the side of Loki's arm.
If his stomach wasn't hurting so much, Loki would have appreciated the comfort of Steve's lap much more vocally instead of trying not to be sick in it.
"Are you sure you don't want me to get someone? Banner? Dr Cho?"
"There is no need. I will be fine."
"What if this is something serious?" Steve patted his jacket for his mobile phone. “I should get your brother.”
“No!” Loki peered through strands of hair, which Steve tentatively brushed away. "If it were, it would have killed me already." At the aghast expression on Steve's face, he added in a hurry, "Or conversely, my healing spell would have cured it completely."
"What do you think it was?" Steve asked anxiously. "It wasn't my pie, was it?"
Loki shook his head. "No, Captain. This is just a run-of-the-mill stomachache, albeit a very irritating one. Exploring the vast diversity of Midgardian cuisine has truly been an adventure."
"Thor can eat anything."
"There is nothing my Brother can't and won't eat. I have seen Thor devour five wild boars in one sitting and that was after a light training station, imagine what he could polish off after a day's battle or two." A sullen mutter. "I am not like Thor."
"No." Steve smiled. "No, you're not. You're different."
Loki knew better than anyone all the ways in which he was different. He wondered if they matched Steve's list. "How so?"
Steve shrugged. "You were right. I like war movies. And you're the only person who'd watch them with me."
"I suppose I too am nostalgic for the olden days. Even if they were someone else's," Loki said, mirroring his companion's smile; it felt just as awkward on his face as it had looked on Steve.
He tried to make himself comfortable but lying on his back hurt too much. With his head still in Steve's lap, Loki turned onto his side and curled into a tight ball.
Meanwhile, Steve was beginning to fret. “What can I do?”
“Retire for the night, I suppose. I’m afraid I am not very good company at the moment.”
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”
“Captain.”
“No man left behind, Loki. I’m staying.” Steve let Loki squirm against him as he tried to find the most comfortable position. “What do you need?”
“Sleep.” Loki was almost too embarrassed to admit it. “I could try walking it off, but - ”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Steve growled. “We’re watching a goddamn movie, not kicking some alien's ass in battle."
"I'm sorry you couldn't finish the movie," said the only alien in the room.
"It's okay. I couldn't concentrate anyway."
"Something on your mind, Captain?"
Steve shook his head. "Someone," he corrected.
"Anyone I know?" Loki asked, wanting to jest, but his intestines chose that moment to coil into knots inside him, each tighter than the one before; he could barely keep from crying out, he was in so much pain.
"I'm looking at him," Loki heard Steve say in a voice so soft it could only be a product of his muddled imagination.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on the grounding warmth of Steve's body heat against his face.
The beast clawing away in his belly was not real. Steve was. Good, kind, sensitive Steve.
Steve watched in sympathy as Loki massaged his stomach gingerly. "You really don't feel good, huh."
"There was a time when I would rather face the axe than admit to something so pitiful." Loki opened his eyes a mere fraction, lest he revealed too much his pain. "But no, I do not."
"I'm not used to seeing you like this," Steve said quietly. "You always get stomachaches this bad?"
Loki had to laugh; Steve looked so serious it was adorable. "I have survived horrors far worse than this, Captain."
"Yeah, but you kept it to yourself this long, so it must be pretty bad."
"Oh, you know me too well," Loki said sarcastically. "I must have been too engrossed in the film to notice my stomach eating itself."
Steve appeared offended. "Hey, it's based on a true story!"
"They did not blow it up in the end, you know."
"What are you talking about?" Steve asked, baffled.
"The Bridge. There were many bridges like it along River Kwai, but the rest of it? The uprising and the sabotage? That is all fiction," Loki said flatly. "Glorious fiction."
His eyes fluttered shut with a solemness analogous to that of one burdened with bearing bad news.
It was hardly news, was it? These people had been dead for almost a century -
"Your friends did not escape the jungles. They were all packed onto ships that took them across the sea to the Land of the Rising Sun, but your own warships mistook them for the enemy and blew them out of the water. All ten thousand of them."
"Tell me one thing. Why does telling stories come so easily to you but not this?" Steve swatted Loki's hand away and replaced it with his own, ignoring Loki's surprised gasp. "Yes, war sucked. Watching your friends die in front of you sucked. But right now I don't care about any of that. I care about you!"
Loki swallowed hard. "Captain…"
But Steve was not done giving Loki a piece of his mind.
"I want you to tell me these things," he berated, his fingers curling around the taut flesh of Loki's stomach. "I'm not good at reading you."
A sharpness cut through Loki's words, a warning in disguise. "I do not want you to."
"I couldn't if I tried," Steve said quietly. "I have brought down walls thicker than you've ever seen. But I can't see through yours."
Loki fell into a silence so deep it left Steve wondering if he had ruined the moment beyond repair.
"A war hero like you has no business consorting with someone like me." Loki turned his face. "I am but a prisoner, begging for scraps from you, and from everyone else in the universe."
Steve's hand stilled. Loki's thin abdomen throbbed under his palm, the pulsations picking up pace in time with the racing of the ancient heart.
"I have been in chains since the day I was born. I will not chain you to me." Loki interlaced his fingers with the ones still clasped to his stomach. "This is a momentary comfort."
"We are all prisoners here, Loki," Steve said gently.
As all anger left him, his other hand searched for Loki's. "We don't belong to this time, but there is no escaping it."
His thumb danced across the bony row of Loki's knuckles. "There is only living."
"Perhaps I have lived too long."
"That is a decision only you can make," Steve said, the sadness returning to his eyes. "But I have just found you. And I want you to know that I care."
With the confession finally out of the way, Steve inhaled deeply and leaned his head back against the couch, his hand resuming its gentle kneading. It was comforting, the sensation of Loki's tight, concave abdomen giving little by little to his ministrations.
It was not overindulgence, the cause of Loki's pain. He knew that now.
"Captain."
"Yes, Loki?"
"What exactly do you want from me?"
Steve went quiet. The answer could not be any clearer, but Loki was notoriously oblivious to any notion of sentiment, even the most obvious one.
"You said I was your comfort. I want you to allow yourself to be mine."
Loki remained quiet for longer. When he finally spoke, his voice quaked with a timbre of hope and unbridled joy.
"If I say yes, would you do me a courtesy and let me choose what to watch for movie night?"
Steve laughed. "Sure. On one condition."
“This negotiation has strayed too far off course, Capta -”
“Steve,” he interrupted, cradling Loki's face in his hands. “Call me Steve.”
It was an offer Loki could not refuse. "Steve."
The name tasted good on his tongue. And so did those lips.
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Tossing a random thought out there - I'm curious. What would your take on an Oscar+Ozpin centered RWBY vampire AU be?
Uh okay so.
I.
Really Don't Like Vampires.
About the only one I can stand is Alucard from the clips of Netflix Castlevania I've stumbled on and that's just because he's such an utterly rude snarky sad boi and it's honestly easy to just think of him more like a cranky human cat than anything that drinks blood.
But I'll give this a try just this once. This is absolutely never becoming a long running verse on this blog saying that now.
...
-Okay so I know very little about Vampire tropes of any kind so Imma just yeet all attempt to play to any conventions or tropes and say that TECHNICALLY, Vampires do not exist. It's like- an ancient magical curse type deal and thus technically Vamps are not dead, they are just near unkillable, very anemic, extremely sunburnable human beings. The blood drinking thing isn't actually a requirement it's just a craving because Extremely Cursed Anemic and way back in ye olden days it was hard to get any treatment for it beyond actual blood or, you know, lots of meat cooked extremely rare. The curse probably has a part to play in the blood craving as well because the point of a curse is to be cruel, probably.
-Grimm are still a thing.
-Salem is still a thing and is both Vampire and also still Grimm Queen because apparently no, belly flopping into the pool of Darkness will not kill a Vampire it just makes them even more cursed and bonkers and likely in pain a 99.999% of the time.
-Salem, because Salem™ has probably cursed a few people here and there with the vampire curse just to keep people terrified of the concept and also make Ozma's life 100% more difficult.
-Ozpin is, as far as most people know, ye skilled and eccentric Headmaster.
-As far as Ozpin's inner circle knows, he is also the newest in a long line of incarnations for a poor cursed immortal wizard tasked with stopping Salem.
-Only like- one other person (coughGlyndacough) knows that Ozpin technically has *two* curses, the second being Ozma's memories and the first being that nice little complication that comes from poking his nose into something he shouldn't and getting hit with a vampire curse.
-Ozma was not too thrilled to realize he got slam-dunked into a cursed immortal anemic and that means barring a horrible Salem-induced death he's gonna be stuck like this.
-Ozpin wasn't too thrilled either but hey. At least the curse won't pass on to someone else for a while. Now if he can just keep people from questioning the juice bag he's always carrying around and his biochemistry degree that would be awesome (almost as awesome as figuring out how to make his own fake blood to help his curse cravings without doing something as uncomfortable as Drinking Real Blood. He's pretty proud of figuring that out when he was only 20 tbh.)
-Oscar is a young farm boy who is living a perfectly normal life until Hello Curse Time™ because he's just unlucky like that. Now Oscar is a Mistralen farm boy. He has absolutely no clue what the vampire curse really is or where it comes from (looking at you, experimental Grimm that Salem enchanted the TEETH of) or that no he is not actually now some kind of dead monster. All he knows is that he woke up post a Grimm attack thinking he survived it until he got horrible mouth pain, grew fangs within a few days, started sunburning way easier than before, got enhanced senses, and started having a craving for rare cooked beef.
-Not being an idiot, he concluded he was a vampire now.
-Not being educated on actual vampire anything, he immediately freaked right out and ran away from home to keep from possibly hurting his beloved aunt.
-Cue one tired, terrified farm boy running around being terrified of himself and the world until he runs face first into some people trying to kill a nice young woman on the road.
-Cue one tired, too good for his own good farm boy using his enhanced vamp strength and speed to punt Cinder and co across the field, grab Amber and book it in a blind panic, thus yeeting plot.
-Qrow catches up later, but by that point Amber has 100% adopted this poor terrified hungry vampire child and is planning to take him to Oz to see if anything can be done for him.
-Hello Ozpin, meet your new child who needs some fake blood and sunscreen and hugs.
-Hello Oscar, meet your new dad.
-Hello Salem in the far distance, prepare to have your entire centuries long plan crumble to nothing under the combined power of the disaster tired totally-not-vampires-what-are-you-talking-about-James dad-son duo that is the Ozlings.
-There. I'm done.
#SE asks#hamelin-born asks#Secret Engima Rambles#RWBY Vampire verse#this was admittedly kinda fun#and I might actually keep it#but only because i aggressively scrubbed out#so much of the typical vampire stuff#honestly i based it off a hilarious case closed fic i read once#where shinichi is cured of being tiny#but now has enhanced healing#and everyone mistakenly concludes he's a vampire#when he really isn't#pls nobody ask me to write about dead things like zombies or real vampires#k thanks
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