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#doesn’t know that and its not like the witches can keep sending her off forever the girl is subborn as hell and they really don’t have much

regret-breathing · 5 months

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she lives on a farm with her sheep, her chickens, her goats, and a number of other creatures. she keeps pet rodents and spiders in terrariums. in the two story house there are multiple rooms of just her taxidermy collection, almost all her own work. she wears her hair long, her wide, haughty features complimenting her playful eyes and beautiful skin perfectly. shes like a queen, or a witch. but shes a macrobiologist. she doesnt live anywhere near me. i want to wrap her in what little warmth i have and learn how she takes her eggs. i want to learn to live with her five dogs, or rather, learn how much benadryl i can take before i get too loopy to love her how she deserves. she’s always warm, even though she texts like she’s ten years older than she is. i’ve only heard her voice one time. i want to listen to it for at least six hours daily. i don’t know what it is about her that hit me like a truck but now i’m just happy to be roadkill.

i’m awkward over text, especially with people i can’t help but love. she’s hard to talk to because i get too in my head. i feel like she’s going to slip away before i get to tell her how much she means to me. we’ve known each other less than three months but i want to cook at least 400 meals for her. i wish it were acceptable to tell someone that. to tell someone you only met recently that you think you could spend forever learning new ways to make her smile. her house sounds like heaven. i don’t normally like dogs. but for her? five sounds doable.

she says when she dreams she has wings most of the time. when i asked what her wings were like she told me, black and bright blue almost like a blue jay, but with color placement like an owl’s. my knees buckled a bit and i could hardly breathe for a second. she loves dragons, draws them all the time. i save every picture of a doodle she sends me. but still her wings have feathers. she says she dreams so vividly that she can feel the breeze in every one of them as she catches the wind. i don’t know how to tell her that’s what it feels like when she tells me something new about her.

she painted a door in her house, blue mostly with strips of colors in every hue. when i told her it looked like the bark of my favorite tree and showed her some pictures, i couldn’t believe my luck. i cant help but picture seeing that door every day and thinking of that little bit of serendipity.

she says not to get too attached to the ram. i’ve never seen him in person but i don’t think i can keep to that. he’s so sweet, and soft, and named like my best friends brother. sometimes, she says, he tries to escape the pen, and she has to wrangle him and sit on him. she’s stronger than people think, she says. i can’t imagine underestimating her. i think if i was honest with her about myself, about everything inside me, she might not get scared off. she talks like there’s a lot she doesn’t tell everyone also. she talks like she would understand. but still im scared to tell her i feel so strongly for her so soon. if i miss my chance i might regret it forever. but i keep seeing posts with that quote, don’t die not knowing, and thats starting to scare me more than losing her.

i think i need to wait a little longer. to wait until her car is fixed and we can see each other for real. i want to make her something, but i don’t have any blue yarn. i want to make her gloves, because they’d go so nicely with her tattoos. i want to learn new stitches, so i can make her something really pretty. i haven’t taught myself any new ones since i was a kid, but what i can make now isn’t good enough. i know that’s not how it works, that a gift from a friend is perfect by nature of its existence, but she deserves the world, and even if i can’t give it to her, i can at least give her something in stockinette.

#regret posting #knitting #delete later #personal shit #i want to say her name but the internet can’t be trusted.#that doesn’t make it harder not to scream it over and over until my throat goes.#i don’t think i understand what it was to miss someone before locking eyes with them #she says she doesn’t take selfies often. and yet i get to see her face at least a few times a week.#i count myself lucky every time.

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didisteponurmoment · 2 years

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“I Like you too, by the way” WandaNat

Warnings: smut +18

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When the power is out, Natasha and Wanda talk about feelings

Words: 2212

A/N: I need to write to avoid my reality so feel free to send some requests in. I didn't double-check this and English is not my first language so lmk if there some awful mistake

It seems like this rain isn’t ever gonna stop and Wanda and Natasha are stuck at the avengers compound. Wanda, being the new one in the group is still getting used to living with the rest of the team, but she has gotten really close to Natasha, the girl Wanda had been having a crush on since she first arrived six months ago. Everyone is on a mission and even tough Nat knows enough to relaunch the power, she is enjoying the company of the witch a little too much to try and fix the lights.

The whole vibe just got so romantic. Candles are placed around the room because the lights are out due to the storm (duh), nice old music playing from Wanda’s battery radio and two glasses of red wine are settled on the table. isn’t it perfect? Wanda’s heart pounds and she gets the whole world’s excitement in her stomach. Her powers let her sense the calm in the older woman, making her wonder if this was a good time to make a move on her.

“Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate? bring you a blanket? it’s kinda cold,” Wanda says as Natasha smiles and nods unknowingly. Wanda is a nervous mess, she goes to the kitchen to make drinks and also to calm herself down. “it’s alright, it’s fine. she’s just a girl, chill,” Wanda whispers to herself but it doesn’t work at all, so the only thing left to do is to go back to Natasha, who is already missing the young girl's company.

“Oh there’s only one blanket for the two of us,” Nat says moving around the room, “I know there were more of them but I can't find them.”

“It’s fine, you can have it.”

“No, we definitely should share it! I mean I don’t want you to freeze,” The spy smirks and makes Wanda wonder why she has such an influence on her. “Come here, Detka,” The Russian says almost seductively and Wanda shyly gets closer to her. They both keep talking comfortably, about missions, gossip about their teammates, and just life in the most comfortable way. Suddenly, Wanda feels Natasha’s hand slowly making its way around her shoulders.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” it sort of slips out of Wanda’s mouth and she hopes it was quiet enough so that Nat didn't hear it. The older woman smirks and answers without hesitation

“yea me too. you’re a great cuddler, by the way,” Wanda’s cheeks grow red, but she senses some sort of weird intoxicating feeling coming from the older girl: it’s now or never, so she places her hand on Natasha’s lap, not inappropriately but definitely with a hint in the move.

“is it okay?” Wanda asks

“yeah” Natasha says with a soft look in her eyes, “which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Wanda attempts to move so she can see the olders girl face better but instead of it she only spills her drink on her sweater.

“Oh, Detka, you better take it off,” Natasha says so wanda did as she was told.

“So what was the thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

“it’s kinda hard to talk to you when you’re shirtless. you know, you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

Wanda blushes as she mumbles something like “no way.”

“I was actually meaning to tell you that I really like you.”

This surprised Wanda, even with her powers that could have placed her a step ahead from everyone, she didnt consider the idea of her feelings being reciprocated. She doesn’t even think about the next thing she does, pulling Nat closer by her jacket and pressing her lips on hers. a second later Natasha is kissing her back.

“Is that a yes?” she giggles.

“what was the question again?” Wanda smirks but she doesn’t get any response because Nat’s hand is aleready making her way up from Wanda’s waist to her boobs from under her sweater. Her lips are on the sokovian’s neck, beating softly. Rather unexpectedly, Wanda feels a really gentle touch around her right nipple on top of her delicate lacy bra.

“Is that okay, Detka?” Natasha asks again and Wanda doesn’t feel like joking anymore.

“Yes,” she gets to say under her breath as the older girl leaves a small kiss on wanda’s rosy cheeks, her eyes closed and her mouth is a little open craving another kiss.

Wanda spent a lot of time wondering how Natasha would feel under her touch, but she never thought she’d be so soft and patient when it comes to physical contact. It suddenly gets hotter as Natasha undoes the witch’s bra and Wanda pulls her top off of her, She stares at her and at the skin just exposed and bites her lip, lost in her toughts for a minute.

“Like what you see, malyshka?” The spy asks, a large smirk covers her face and Wanda sheepishly nods, feeling her cheeks turn red and her body freezing for a second until Natasha’s soft laugh brings her back in. Eyes wonder on her body and hands finally move, reaching her waist and brushing her fingers against it.

A small chuckle escaped Nat’s lips as Wanda uses her power to disappear the top across the room and uses her hands to caress the older girl’s back as she leans on Wanda again.

"Weren’t you shy just a minute ago?” Nat says smirking and attaching her lips to Wanda’s neck. Nat lips are back in the witch’s mouth before she can think of an answer and she sucks on her lip harshly, getting a shaky breath out of The other girl’s mouth, who moves her hands to the spy’s back and doubts, stopping herself.

“Uh Tasha, is this okay?” Wanda asks looking for her eyes shyly.

Natasha stares and laughs lightly, leaning putting her lips right above mines “oh Detka, are we gonna keep asking that all night?” Her lips brush on Wandas lips as she talks, and she licks the lips reassuringly. Wanda closes her eyes and a little breath escapes lips, she feels a smirk on the other girl as Natasha leads Wanda’s hands to her back again and she unclasps her bra with them.

Wanda feels her mouth fall open as Natasha’s boobs bounce against her frame and lets out a little groan. The spy lips attack her neck, without asking this time, and she starts sucking on the spot under wanda’s ear making a real and loud moan escape her lips. She moves away and stares.

”I’ve been dreaming of hearing that for a long time, Detka” she says biting her lip.

Wanda’s breath stops for a second before a sudden shot of braveness enters to her body.

”Have you, Tasha?” she began asking as the confidence that hit her leads her hands to grip her waist tightly ”what else have you been dreaming about hm?”

She smiles knowingly, She was totally waiting for that question since ever and as the spy she is, wanda wouldnt be surprised if she indeed saw it coming.

“Let me show you instead,” she says pinning Wanda’s hands above her head and moving her kisses from her mouth to her neck, where she sucks, leaving a mark probably. Wanda is about to say something, trying to come up with a bold response, when her teeth nibble on the sweet spot right beneath her ear and she can’t help herself but moan out loud.

“Well, they sound better than I thought they would”

“I feel underestimated, Natty” Wanda answers rising her eyebrow.

“Then you can prove me wrong when I’m done with you” she replies after biting the witch's lip.

Wanda’s chest is going up and down when Natasha’s lustful eyes land on her boobs.

Wanda feels how she could probably cum just by seeing the older girl looking at her that way. She smirks again as she leans forward to kiss the top of the left breast, taking her time to admire it before moving to the other one. Her mouth made its way to Wanda’s nipples. Wanda freezes as she watches the scene and Natasha takes her hard nipple into her mouth, gently kneading the soft flesh with her hand.

The moans start spilling the younger girl's mouth and she bites her lip to prevent them from leaving her body. The spy lips meet Wanda’s suddenly, her tongue opening her mouth and those little moans escaping right into her mouth. Natasha's body shivers when Wanda breathes into her for the first time and she bites her lip harshly, suddenly turning her kiss more aggressive with that simple act.

Wanda’s fingers tangle in the spy’s hair, pulling it a bit when her hands caress her stomach. She moves her hands up to pamper Wanda’s nipples, her moans growing louder as she unconsciously shifts her body so she can grind down on her thighs.

“Shit,” Nat says in a moan when she realizes Wanda’s intentions “you sure?” She asks looking for approval in her eyes.

Wanda just nods blushing and Nat whimpers pulling away from her chest, untying the other girls shorts and quickly working to get them down as she giggles.

“Take off your pants, Tasha” Wanda whispers, as she covers her body with the blanket and waits for her to get rid of her skinny jeans. She smiles sliding the ripped material off her, and her panties quickly following. Wanda giggles lightly as Nat leans down, moving her body underneath the blanket and leaving a kiss on the stomach right above Wanda’s panties.

“You ready Detka?” She whispers when her fingers tucked into the hem of the Lacey underway making the girl shiver at the contact.

“Go for it” Wanda breathes out as her underwear is being sledded down her thighs and kisses are pressed down each leg as skin gets exposed.

She moans, don’t even trying to hold anything back and using the blanket to cover her upper body and leaving Nat’s head under it.

Nat hands are really cold when she first touches Wanda and so she shivers, Her finger Grazes all the way from the belly button to Wanda’s clit, adding pressure when she reaches it.

Wanda shudders and Nat laughs from under the blanket and moves the blanket to free her head and the younger girl's legs. Wanda just looks at her body in awe during the whole process, from when she’s kneeling down in front of her under the blankets to when she moves out if it. The cold wind hits on the place Natasha just left and wanda squirms. Natasha laughs again, staring at the other girls body in silence and realizing how she is feeling when she moves.

“We have time, malyshka, They won’t be back until tomorrow” she says looking at her eyes and brushing her fingers against her boobs from under the blanket.

Natasha removes the blanket fully and Without saying another word she straddles Wanda’s waist facing her legs. She gets the blanket again covering both of them as She lows herself and starts playing the sokovian’s clit, testing the reactions she is getting to guide her out.

Wanda can feel Natasha's wetness on her stomach and moves her hands to her ass, squeezing on it doubtfully and receiving a moan in return, which makes Nat blow air on Wanda’s core, earning a groan from her.

Natasha stops her fingers and Wanda panics, wondering if she has done something wrong or if the older girl was regretting the encounter until she feels wet fingers on her hand.

She holds Wanda’s hand and leads it slowly into her pussy. Once again Wanda moans when she feels the wetness and Nat laughs. Then the witch finally dares to move her fingers shyly, and now Nat is the one moaning.

Natasha lets go of wanda’s hand and moves back to her own business, she separates the witch’s pussy lips and licks. Once, twice,the sokovian’s breath gets faster. Wanda doubts for a minute and she gets Narasha’s butt closer to her face until she gets the idea, too busy moaning to actually explain her plans.

Nat tights straddle wanda’s face carefully. She goes down again. She knows Wanda is close and decides to add her fingers to the mix.

Wanda looks up to find her pussy, glistening and dripping, she holds her ass and Nat laughs lightly the witch’s center before receiving her mouth for the first time. All her control disappears and she starts moving against the tongue, riding Wanda’s face and making her reach an orgasm on the way.

As Wanda cums, she can feel Natasha’s tongue eating her dry and turning fast for a deep kiss where she could savor herself.

Wanda pulls the russian up again afterwards, she’s looking down at her now and the way her boobs bounce with her breathing shows Wanda how close she is. In fact, she is probably holding back.

“Cum for me Tasha” Wanda groans just a second before she gets to taste Nat’s release on her mouth and feels her body lying on top of hers after.

“I like you too, by the way”

“Oh yeah, I think I noticed”

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musubiki · 2 years

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ikasumi / emo ink mage girl infodump / lore dump thoughts so i can keep track!! (also some thoughts on how we first meet her in the story)

same age as the rest of the gang. about 16-17 when first introduced, 20-21 post-timeskip

first shows up claiming that tiramisu signed a contract previously that would allow her to be a memeber of the next cat witchs (mochi's) guild when the time came

said contract had the cat witchs seal, so tiramisu went "damn i guess i made this contract lmfaooo sorry mochi i guess she has to be a part of your guild? (sweating)"

(tiramisu signed a lot of contracts in her day that she doesnt nessecarily remember signing. she was a very busy woman)

mochi accepts it nonetheless because heyo thats her duty. feels a little queasy about it but this girl seems okay enough

at this point in the guild, its after lime, oscar, and coco are already members. ikasumi, at this point, would fill up the 5th and final position in the guild

for a little while, she stays in the room above the storage garage that taffy later gets

ikasumi claims to be from the central kingdom, and she hides the fact that she has any powers at all

basically throughout the course of the episode the guild remains suspicious of her but slowly kind of warms up. oscar is the only one who actually keeps an eye on her as the rest figure shes harmless

anyway theyre proven right because they catch her in the act of trying to steal some of mochis spellbooks. noteably, the ones that note down creatures and living beings

spellbooks which she then uses to pull creatures straight off the page into crazy ink monster things to attack them

ikasumi is proficient in her ink magic but still relatively young in it, and as a consequence doesn't have full control over that which she creates (summed up, the bigger/scarier the creature is, the more likely it is to turn on her)

she bites off more than she can chew with that being said, and mochi/the guild end up having to save her from her own creation

she reveals she is indeed one of the ink mages (or maybe the only one. I think these more common non-elemental mages can have more than one, contrast to taffy and kyanite who are the only one of their kind)

she is a member of the guild of the butterfly witch, Mag Lynn, who runs a fairly notorious antique shop (notorious in the magic community anyway. Mag Lynn's Antiques is full of old magic items, leftover cursed objects, weapons, spellbooks, etc. shes a collector, and also potentially the focus of a spin off/mini story i have in my brain)

Mag Lynn is about the age of mochis mom, and isn't very active as a witch anymore, but took in / recruited ikasumi for her ink magic

she was a bookkeeper for the antique shop but her newest mission is to spy on / keep an eye on the new cat witch, and send updates every so often. (everyone wants to know what goes on with the new cat witch) so she forged a contract and pretended like tiramisu owed her a guild spot

"why did you try and steal my spellbooks then-" "i mean. im sure lady mag lynn would appreciate a new addition to her collection-" and then mochi whacks her on the head with a book

regardless ikasumi is grateful to them for saving her, apologizes for deceiving them, and leaves

laughably it ends up as one of those things where its like "(in a kind of sad tone) do you think we'll ever see her again?" "who knows..." and then the next day she shows up at school and it floors all of them

"I thought you left forever?!" "No I still have Lady Mag Lynns mission to keep an eye on you, remember"

she also probably takes a part time job working at the cat cafe because lord knows being an artist doesnt exactly pay the bills

though she doesnt live with mochi afterwards - turns out lady mag lynn was housing her in a seperate apartment the whole time. part of the reason she agreed to this mission was mag lynn being like "ill take care of rent and utilities" and ikasumi was all "sold."

she is the broke artist character. also the character that will do nearly anything for money. think mona from genshin

someone drops a quarter by accident and she DIVES for it

tiramisu gives her free food whenever she drops by

i think she also has a thing for nice-smelling soap. she drops by to see mochi and is like "do you have any new soaps you can make me" and when mochi gives her the new coconut hibiscuis lavender whatever she magicked up ikasumi is all "(deep inhale) sensational"

doesnt show a lot of emotion, if any at all. just that blank expression most of the time. even when angry, while she beats the shit out of you shes emotionless the whole time

wears exclusively black/dark colors. coco respects this

likes her shimmer eyeshadow. post-timeskip she wears black lipstick as well

an even bigger conspiracy theorist than oscar. oscar goes "the moon landing was fake" and she responds "you believe in the moon?" oscar respects this

i think the way you beat her is with paper. you can re-trap the ink creations with paper, and i like to think of a really cool scene where mochi summons a shit ton of paper that just peppers her like those little paper men on spirited away

also a bit of a dumbass in her own right.

when shes sick: "im an artist. even when feeble, my body will remember" and then draws the worst thing youve ever seen

also noteworthy: her art skills are..,....not great

like 13 year old girl level. the only people she can draw are those badly drawn anime boys, and all her creatures look nothing like whatever it is shes trying to draw

she draws a dog and everyone is like "uhh boat? no? uhhhh is it a fish? not that either?? uhh"

this is one of the only things that frustrates her

oddly, oscar is the only one who nails it on the first try. maybe he has the vision. must be all that doodling in his journal that makes him more attuned to these things

coco is over there getting every guess wrong, and goes "c'mon, no one can tell what this is! oscar, what does this look like?!" and he leans over and goes "oh thats a dog"

ikasumi appreciates this

ability wise, whatever she can draw, she can bring to life / off the page

this includes weapons, items, creatures, etc. but its limited to her artistic ability

as a young mage all her creations are 2D but as she grows stronger they can take on 3D form

she carries around a small art kit with black paint / pens, but really she can use any kind of ink and any canvas to life. this includes spray paint and tattoos

usually draws cute little creatures that fight for her rather than fighting herself. in true desperation she creates horrific things, but shes also very afraid of them so she rarely does it (i think she gets more comfortable with it way later on)

she has cute freckles on her face, and also probably has shoulder freckles

i have a beta idea of her and coco starting a "lime sucks" club at school. she doesnt hate lime, has nothing against him, actually thinks hes really chill, but finds it very entertaining to be the thorn in the side of the "lime fan club" at school. indeed it becomes funny as hell. they HAAATE the lime sucks club.

when oscar catches wind of this hes like "AHAH! Thats awesome can I join?? for laughs??" and theyre like "sure" / "hell yeah join the dark side!!"

mochi is also like "...can i join? (ehe)"

and limes like "YOU THINK I SUCK??!!" and mochi has to explain like "NO no! but...our friends are in that club....i wanna be included

and eventually lime is also like "i wanna join this fucking club" and everyone else outside this friend group is like "??? what the fuck"

the idea of everyone being like "ahaha the lime sucks club is so dumb aha- wait." and lime is sitting with the lime sucks club

oscar gives her the nickname sumi / sumia and she hates it. but then coco also starts using it and also mochi somtimes and once you get a nickname in this group you cant escape it

"why sumi..." "because! i-ka-su-mi is too many syllabuls" "su-mi-ah isnt much better..."

always wearing long sleeve. even in summer when sweating. "ill suffer for fashion," she says

(a little bit more on lady mag lynn) mag lynn and tiramisu are actually incredibly good friends. one day she storms in pretending to be all bad like "what an ugly little shop. whats this i hear about your daughter harassing my guild?" and tiramisu is like "yes an ugly little shop suited for an ugly old hag like yourself! my daughter can beat your guilds ass any day." with a smile, and 2 seconds later theyre like omg i missed you so much!!! you never call me anymore!!

ikasumi isnt mag lynns daughter, but mag lynn lowkey treats her like a daughter. regardless, ikasumi wont get the butterflys power when mag lynn passes it on since shes already an ink mage and it cant be overridden. ikasumi will also be in the guild of whoever it is mag lynn choses the next butterfly witch to be

#the cat witchs guild #lore #lore dump #text #bpp #ikasumi #info dump #subject to change as always

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radiorenjun · 3 years

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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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shirophantomvox · 3 years

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Analyzing Illumi Zoldyck's Character

Chrollo Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up y’all! Sorry for being away for the last few days. I needed a break from social media because I am so tired of seeing toxic, self-righteous people on my TL. Anyway, quite a lot of you liked my posts about analyzing HxH characters and somehow comparing them to VLD characters. Today, I’ll be talking about Illumi Zoldyck and I’ll try to compare him to a Voltron character. I know many people have already analyzed this character before, but it wouldn’t hurt to add to the discussion some years later. If you want me to write about anything else, send me an ask! The formatting of this post may be different than the one I wrote about Hisoka Morrow (click his name to view that post).

HERE WE GO!

In the first season, all of the characters are contestants for the Hunter’s Exam. I say contestants because this is a contest to see who can win without any injuries and can keep up with each host. I forget what number stage they were at, but I do know they were at the stage where each opponent has to fight each other. They are declared the winner if their opponent forfeits or gives up mid-match. (Off-topic, but) I am going, to be honest; Gon was my favorite character but his flaws began to show, annoyed me, and later led to his horrific downfall (based from YouTube clips). He didn’t know when to stop and kept pushing himself over the limit. Anyway, Killua and Gittarackur are set to fight. This is when things take a turn for the worse.

Gittarackur is a form of a disguise for Illumi to mask his identity. His face is long; nearly (and reminds me of) in the shape of a Tiki. His face also reminds me of the Witch Doctor mask from Scooby-Doo and Hell-raiser. He has several pins stuck in his face to maintain the facial features of Gittarackur. On the flip side, if he removes the pins, his biological form is revealed. Once he does this, Killua is nearly paralyzed; he cannot believe his eyes and I’m sure the trauma he endured at home hit him like a sack of rocks. Illumi then tells Killua that he wants him to return home, that he cannot maintain a friendship with Gon, stated that he was going to kill Gon, but realizes that if he does so he will be disqualified and will not obtain his Hunter’s license.

I’m assuming the cops aren’t a thing in this reality and the only way for them to “destroy” under the law is by obtaining the license. What do you think? I rarely see police officers; all I see are the Mafia and every they suck compared to the Zoldyck's and the Phantom Troupe. Shit, it seems like they’re the police but have twisted motives.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a fictional character or not, first impressions matter and he bombed this one...even for a villain.

But you did this for what?

How can you hypnotize (by using Nen) your own brother into killing another opponent because he doesn’t want to become an emotionless zombie like you? At least, that’s my perception. Telling your brother to run every time he faces an opponent that he knows he cannot win against is the sickest shit I’ve ever seen. I know I’m jumping around but another thought popped into my head. As the seasons go on, Illumi expresses an odd way of loving his younger brother and to him, that means to make him suffer in the same way he had to. It seems like Illumi is jealous of Gon in a way. (I’ve seen clips on YouTube) Killua takes Alluka to the hospital to heal Gon. Illumi has stated several times to Hisoka that Killua was hiding rules from him and that he still wanted to get rid of Alluka. Although it is clearly stated why he wanted Alluka gone, I still think that Illumi was jealous of Gon simply because his younger brother preferred to be with a friend instead of him. This is why he emphasizes “You cannot have friends. Either they will betray you or you’ll betray them.”

As I read and watched as the seasons went on, I noticed something about Illumi and his family. We all know that the children were raised by their parents. Specifically, their dad is a trained assassin. I can’t remember but I think Zeno is their grandfather who is also an assassin.

I view him as a character that has suffered from abuse and trauma in order to mold him into an assassin. He is emotionless, doesn’t really care for others, has an odd relationship with Killua that he doesn’t have for his other siblings, and is a hypocrite. Killua can’t be friends with Gon but every time the show cuts to him, he’s with Hisoka? Something is fishy there. Are they more than friends? OK, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Here's the physical analysis below.

Face

When masquerading as Gittarackur, his face has several pins in them and his hair is in a rock star form of Mohawk that is purple. I’ll give him 10/10 for uniqueness, yet it still reminded me of Hell Raiser.

I’ve noticed that when he is in public he is in costume. Why doesn’t he reveal himself in public? I’ve researched this and no one could answer this question. My guess is that he is a verified hunter and assassin. How can you carry out your missions if everyone knows what you look like? Without the pins in his face, it reverts back to his natural state. To me, his large eyes and long, shiny black hair are his distinguished features. Although he may be my least favorite character, he does have pretty eyes. Haven’t you all heard of “I got lost in his/her eyes”?

Yeah, that can be said about him. Most definitely. He rarely smiles and when he does, something BAD is going to happen. I saw him laugh crazily once Alluka began the healing process, the Nen (I guess) rose from the hospital and got on him. This scene reminds me of how Haggar reacted once the Komar’s quintessence bounced from Voltron and bounced onto her. Wow, these supernatural abilities make y’all feel that good?

Clothes

Gittarackur and Illumi wear the same clothes, which should be a clear giveaway that they are the same. Illumi wears a neural green short jacket that has yellow pins in them, a light green shirt underneath, and green pants. His shoes remind me of loafers with a heel on them, something my grandmother would wear.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say again, these bad-ass men in this show are very stylish and seem to be in shape more than I am. Although Illumi irks me, his fashion is great and this is why people prefer him to be their favorite character. Shows should always produce characters that are memorable; that is the key to a long-lasting fan base.

In conclusion, this anime (for the most part) has well-rounded characters that make the plot interesting and wanting more.

Illumi and Lotor are somewhat similar. They both grew up in abusive households and lost some sense of sensitivity, common sense, and were often “misguided” by their own selfishness. Illumi wants a better life for Killua by constantly brainwashing him into thinking that he cannot have friends and his can only find happiness through killing. Zarkon raises Lotor to be a prince that shouldn't work with planets and should destroy them. This explains why he used deceased Alteans from the colony, drained their quintessence, and didn't give them a proper burial. Lotor IS just like his father but Killua IS NOT like Illumi. Ironic, huh? As we all know by now, Lotor is the son of Honerva (Haggar) and Zarkon. After the rift accident, he became an emotionless, ruthless monster that colonized and destroyed planets just to gain their quintessence. He taught this to his son and once he was old enough to think for himself, he refused to act in such a way. Although he was exiled and said he wasn’t like Zarkon, he was; but worse. Lotor studied and gained knowledge about Altea and its people while using Allura to gain the secrets of Oriande. I say he used her because he knew from the moment he met her that he was harvesting Altean quintessence. While fighting the white lion, he yelled “Victory or Death” which is a common catchphrase the Galra use when they are in battle. In fact, the Galra have been victims of trauma from Zarkon. Zarkon’s ruthless ways of ruling had no other motive except for obtaining quintessence so he could live forever. Silva’s way of raising his children was done to mold them into assassins. Since he was taught this way he did the same thing to his children. Zarkon, Silva, and Zeno think that their ways of parenting are necessary for survive in life when it doesn’t have to be that way. Illumi and Lotor have experienced this horrific parenting and deal with it in different ways. Illumi is oddly obsessive of his younger brother and Lotor is a fucking liar.

This analysis was fun! Next, I’ll be analyzing Killua and Keith Kogane.

If you’d like to see more posts like this, send me an ASK!

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

An Abundance of Love (Nick Scratch imagine)

Request from anon: Nick x reader, where it’s all just soft shit. Nick is reading a book aloud to the reader, his head in their lap. They’re running their hand through his hair, before interrupting his reading with kisses. Maybe declarations of love that fluster him cause it’s out of nowhere

Words: 1408

A/N: The quotes are actually real and come from one of my favorite book, « An Abundance of Katherine’s » by John Green. If you have any Nick Scratch request, don’t hesitate to send them in !

It was in the early lights of a quiet morning. The Academy had not yet woken up and snuggled in one of the room were two lovers, enjoying their time alone, away from the noises of witchery troubles. There, on the bed, two souls in complete serenity. One of them was sitting against the bedhead, the other was laying on her lap, a book between his hands. The sun was starting to shine through the blinds, its vibrant golden color reflecting on them, bringing just enough light to be able to read.

”He remained convinced that romantic behavior was basically monotonous and predictable, and that therefore one could write a fairly straightforward formula that would predict the collision course of any two people. But he was worried that he might not be enough of a genius to make the connections“ He spoke, his voice the only sound breaking the silence.

The girl beside him was smiling, listening in a bath of peacefulness and utter contentment. Absorbed by his words, her eyes were closed. They had countless memories together, of shenanigans and battles they fought, which she would never be able to forget. But this was different, this was what she called memories moments of true happiness. Moments when her mind completely let go of all worries and problems and replaced them with a feeling of complete love for him. The simplest moments were building her strongest and most beautiful souvenirs, just as it did for him.

As he continued to read, she tenderly stroked his hair. Her eyes still shut, her smile still big, her fingers were running through his curls. The man made no move to stop her, instead took a second to take in a happy sigh before getting back to reading, a smile of his own on his face.

“This is almost too nice to be true” She said in a whisper, as if the sound of her own voice would be enough to make their moment disappear.

“What is ?” He asked, putting the open book on his chest and looking back at her.

“You and me, here, without any monsters to fight”

“Without the world ending” He added, joking.

She smirked.

“I keep on expecting someone to burst through my door to get us somewhere, to fight someone or something”

“Not today” He reassured her. “Besides, it’s too early.”

He took one her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed it softly.

“This is the first time in forever that we get to have time together, Y/N” He continued. “Enjoy it, because the world won’t stay so quiet forever”

“Maybe we should give up our powers and become mortals” She joked.

He winced at the suggestion, making her laugh.

“Like hell we are”

They look back at each other, one of her hand still clasped with his, the other stroking his hair. No works were spoken for a while. Silent electricity passed on through their gaze was enough to make her heart beat faster, fingertips like matches grazing her wrist with flame. An entire ocean of ink wouldn’t be enough to write down was they felt for each other. They were a starburst of light amongst the darkening dusk, all the stars in the sky condensed into a single point, a single stare they shared. Their love was everywhere; in the way their gazes lingered on one another, the way their voices became softer and in the shy grins they’d never worn before. In the conversation spoke in silence like this one.

Slowly, softly, she leaned down and kissed his lips. A million loving thoughts condensed into a moment.

“What was that for ?” He asked, his fingers running down her cheek.

She shrugged.

“I’m just ….” She started. “I’m happy. You make me happy”

He smirked, her confession bringing a new lightness to his heart.

“Just happy ?” He joked.

“What is more than happy ?” She wondered. “Because I feel like if I find a word stronger than that I’m gonna jinx it”

“Sometimes I wonder how you can be a witch and be so superstitious at the same time”

She rolled her eyes.

“Doesn’t it feels weird to you sometimes ?” She said seriously, diverting the conversation.

“What ?”

“This connection between us”

He sighed, moving to get more comfortable on her lap.

“I’ll admit that sometimes it scares me”

“Really ? Why ?”

“You’re giving me so much power over you” He started, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I guess … I’m scared of hurting you. I feel so lucky to have you, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if this is real, if I’ve not just … bewitched you”

“Some call it bewitched” She told him. “I prefer to call it love”

“How do you know it’s love ?”

She pondered a minute, taking her time to answer his question.

“When I think of being alone, and I mean without you, I feel empty. Like a world without color. And when I’m with you, like right now, I’m no longer colorblind. I feel wiser, calm, at peace. I look at you, and I see my home. You know that warm bed you can’t get out of in the morning, that sensation of peace on a cozy, rainy Sunday, that place where people can drive you absolutely crazy one minute and make you feel like a precious treasure the next, this isn’t a place for me. It’s you”

She looked back at him in time to see him trying to hide his glossy eyes, warm with an emotion he knew he only felt for her.

“Nick, if what we have isn’t magic, then I cannot say what is” She muttered.

Suddenly, without warning, he threw the book aside, took her hands, and pushed her, making her fall on his chest. She laughed and he closed his eyes for a second, hoping he could memorize that sound, put it in a crystal glass in his mind and protect it forever. Then he stroked her cheeks affectionately before brushing a piece of hair, tucking it behind her ear. His hand stayed there, locked in her hair, his thumb stroking her skin softly. They could’ve remained in the same position forever, but like a magnet, he lifted her chin and brought her face closer and closer, their eyes glued to one another. With a silent statement, he sealed their lips together.

All he could focus on was how soft she felt against his mouth, how addictively she invaded all his senses. There was a raw emotion in the way his fingers cupped her head and he swore his heart skipped a beat when he felt her hands on his naked chest.

“If I remember correctly, you were supposed to read to me, Scratch” She whispered, her lips inches away from his.

He laughed, stealing yet another kiss from her.

“You’re too distracting, Y/L/N”

She glared back, rolling her eyes.

“Hm, excuse me sir but I’m not the one without a shirt on”

He sat up with his girlfriend still in his arms and grabbed the piece of clothing he had previously folded on a nearby chair.

“I can put it back on” He offered.

Before he could make another move, she took the shirt from his hands and threw it in a corner of her room.

“Don’t you dare” She answered with a wicked smile, making him chuckle.

She reached out behind him, taking the book he had disregarded earlier.

“Read to me ?” She requested with a cute voice he couldn’t resist.

He checked the clock on the bedside, making sure they still had time before class.

“C’mon” He conceded.

He let her go and waited until she was comfortably seated to get back to his initial position. His head on her lap, one of her hand in his hair, the other resting on his chest, he took the book back, turning the pages.

“Ready ?” He asked, taking a quick look at her.

“Always”

“Don’t distract me this time” He smirked.

“I can’t promise anything” She giggled.

Grinning, he started to read where he had left the story off. Once again she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back to enjoy the few last minutes they’ll have before getting back to reality, witchcraft and worlds colliding.

“Here’s to all the places we went. And all the places we’ll go. And here’s to me, whispering again and again and again and again… “

“I love you” She finished the quote.

#sabrina spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #nick scratch #nick scratch x reader #nick scratch imagines #nick scratch imagine #nick scratch fanfiction #nicholas scratch #nicholas scratch x reader #nicholas scratch imagine #nicholas scratch images #gavin leatherwood #gavin leatherwood imagine

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asweetprologue · 4 years

Text

drown all my shadows

Octoberfest 15: Lost (whumptober #20) - Last one!!

Jaskier wakes in a fog.

His immediate first impression is, in a way, a lack of impression. The world around him seems featureless. He’s standing, though he doesn’t remember standing up, or walking here in the first place. The fog is thick around his thighs, sending up slow, curling whisps whenever he moves his hands. It’s not much better elsewhere, filling the air and turning the world into an opaque canvas of white. He can’t see beyond his own outstretched hand, everything lost in the gloom.

It’s unnerving. The world is dampened around him, like there’s cotton stuffed in his ears. Jaskier doesn’t know how he got here. He and Geralt had been together - on a hunt? There had been a cabin - a woman? a witch? - and they’d given chase, following her into the woods beyond…

He remembers nothing else. His memories are as foggy as his surroundings. One moment he’d been running after Geralt through the forest of craggy, blackened trees, and then next thing he remembers is opening his eyes to this barren landscape. The silence around him is so intense he can hear his own heartbeat rushing in his ears, deafening.

Half just for something else to listen to, Jaskier says, “Hello?” His voice falls flat in the fog, eaten up by the mist. No one answers. “Geralt? Hello?”

There is nothing. He does a once over of his surroundings once again, but in every direction all he can see is white. It’s almost like being in a box, surrounded by walls on all sides. Feeling panic starts to worm its way into his chest, Jaskier takes a few steps forward. He can’t explain why he feels dread curling through his stomach. It’s just fog, he tells himself. But it doesn’t feel like fog. It feels empty and oppressive and cold, clinging to him and tugging at his clothes and his feet. Something equally cold and empty echoes through Jaskier’s chest, a spot of fearful loneliness that he has always worked hard to keep at bay.

With no other recourse, he walks.

There are no features to the landscape that he can distinguish. The fog is endless; he may as well not be moving at all, for all it changes. The ground under his feet is a plain gray dirt, but he has not stumbled upon a single plant or animal since he’d started walking. It feels quickly as if hours have passed, though it also could have been only moments. There is no way to mark the passage of time or how far he’s walked. There’s no sun in the sky; the fact that he can see at all suggests that it must be there, but the fog has swallowed it along with everything else. He can only put one foot in front of the other, occasionally calling out to anyone who might be near.

It could have been minutes or hours or days, but eventually something does change. He thinks he’s imagined it, at first, but as he moves closer there’s no mistaking. There is a shape in the fog, something just slightly darker than the rest of his surroundings. He can’t make it out, but Jaskier moves towards it with a burst of enthusiasm that borders on fear. As he nears, the fog dissipates enough for him to make out the outline of a figure.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Jaskier says, relief sweeping through him. Even if this person is as lost as he is, at least there will be someone with him. Anything to help assuage the nervous, lonely thing inside him. “I thought I was the only one out here, are you alright?” As he approaches, he can see that it's a woman, her yellow dress faded with age. Jaskier practically runs to close the last few feet between them, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. The dress is soft under his hands, but extraordinary cold. At his touch, the figure shifts like water under his hands, turning in his direction.

She has no face.

Jaskier screams, but the sound is consumed by the fog like all the others. He falls back, scrambling away on his ass. The thing that looks like a woman but has no face does not follow him, standing perfectly still. The flat expanse of smooth skin where her features should be does not change in the slightest or react to him in any way. Jaskier stumbles to his feet and runs back into the fog, desperate to escape the horror of it.

His heart does not stop pounding, no matter how much distance he gains. It’s impossible to tell if he is gaining distance. And it isn’t long before he stumbles across another figure, practically running into it. The man is the same, utterly devoid of features, a personless person shaped thing. Jaskier feels the terror gripping him wind tighter and tighter as he turns and immediately finds another faceless figure in his periphery. The shells never react to him, but for some reason that is more frightening than if they’d tried to attack him.

Jaskier runs, not stopping to assess the shapes he sees blurred through the fog. He’s panicking, he knows, but he can’t stop. He’s alone in this horrible fog with these empty people. There’s no escape; no matter how far he runs, there’s no thinning of the mist.

Finally he collapses, curling into a tight ball in the thickest part of the fog. Gasping into his knees, Jaskier thinks, frantically, that he might be trapped here forever. Who would look for him? Who would even know where this is? No one at Oxenfurt would think anything of his disappearance, his family haven’t seen him in decades. He has fans who will forget him, patrons who will mourn the loss of his art but move immediately on to newcomers. As he thinks, Jaskier feels the fog closing in tighter around him, kissing his cheeks and clutching at his shoulders. It’s so cold, in a bone deep way that scares him as much as the faceless people. No one will remember him, no one is looking for him -

Geralt, he thinks. Geralt will look.

It’s such a relief he almost cries with it. No matter what Geralt has said in the past, they’re friends, and Geralt is the most noble man Jaskier knows. Geralt would not write off his disappearance. Geralt cares about him, and he will find him. Geralt will come.

And suddenly, as if summoned by sheer will, Jaskier finds a familiar hand thrust into his face.

Geralt’s eyes are wide when Jaskier looks up, and it’s so good to see him, so good to see anyone that Jaskier fails to spring immediately into action. Impatiently, Geralt shakes the hand in front of him. “Jaskier,” he says, insistent. “Take my hand.” So Jaskier does.

Instantly the fog retreats, as if blown back by a strong blast of aard. The forest comes into focus around them, the spindly arms of the trees reaching up towards the pale blue sky. Jaskier is pulled to his feet, Geralt’s hands settling on his upper arms as he is given a thorough once over. “Are you alright?” Geralt asks, gruff but clearly concerned.

Jaskier feels a bit faint, weak in the wake of his terror. “Ah,” he says faintly. “M-Mostly, I think. Yes. What was that, Geralt? Where was I?”

Geralt frowns, glancing around the forest around them. It’s quiet, but in the way forests often are in the fall. If he strains, Jaskier can hear the rustle of animals rooting through the fallen leaves that coat the ground around them, the soft calls of birds and the chirp of squirrels and chipmunks. “The witch was kidnapping people,” Geralt says. “Do you remember?”

Jaskier nods slowly. It’s coming back now, without the fog leaking into his brain and obscuring his thoughts. “People from the village. We chased after her, when she ran from the cottage. She -”

“Hit you with a spell,” Geralt finishes. “Yes. It put you in some kind of… in-between place. Managed to get her to tell me what it was, before I killed her. It feeds off of people’s loneliness. She used it to strengthen her magic.”

“There were others there,” Jaskier says, feeling nauseated as he remembers the blank stares. “They had no faces.”

“Already gone. Eaten up by her magic,” Geralt says, gently. He’s smoothing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arms now, a grounding gesture that Jaskier is grateful for. “It wouldn’t have happened to you. I found you easily, once I got her to tell me the spell. People care about you. The spell only feeds off of lonely people.”

“I knew you would find me,” Jaskier says. He feels tired, exceptionally so. Like the fog sapped up all of his strength, both physical and emotional. “Fuck, Geralt, it was awful.” Unable to help himself, Jaskier leans forward until he’s resting his forehead against Geralt’s shoulder, fingers tangling in the familiar leather armor.

To his surprise, strong arms come up to hold him tightly. Jaskier sighs, relief sweeping through him as Geralt’s warm palms press into his shoulders. “It’s alright,” Geralt says, in the same tone he uses on Roach when he’s trying not to spook her. Jaskier would take offense if he didn’t feel so much like he might be spooked. “I would never have left you there.”

“I know,” Jaskier says, tired but content. “I would never forget you. I’m never lonely with you.”

Geralt squeezes him tightly, once, before releasing him, though not entirely. One hand still rests on Jaskier’s shoulder, just at the joint of his neck and collarbone. “We should get back to town. Are you alright to walk?”

“Yes,” Jaskier says, though exhaustion rests in every bone. “Bit of a fright, that’s all. I’m perfectly hale and hearty.”

To prove this, Jaskier turns and starts away, not even sure that he’s going in the right direction. A hand catches his wrist as he does, and he turns back to Geralt with a questioning look. He’s met with a soft expression, one he’d rarely seen before on the witcher. “I’m glad,” Geralt says. “That you’re not lonely.”

Jaskier finds himself smiling, warmth flooding through his chest to finally chase off the cold from before. “Never with you, dear. Never with you.”

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fa-by · 3 years

Text

Hi babies and dear Anons 👋🏼🤗 Back with a new 'Q&A' post. Enjoy 🙃

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 and yes, I did. You can find it here, dear: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648192029691691008/camren-timeline-tittle-edited.

Yes, I heard about that rumor, dear Anon, and veeery false.

I knoooow 😍😍😍 Let's cry in joy and queerness 🥺😭🌈🏳‍🌈

Yep, dear Anon. And unfortunately for us, they will continue to do so for a veeeery long time 😒🙄😔

No, dear Anon, I highly doubt it's another duet. They'd be really, but really stupid if they do 🤦🏻‍♀‍

No, dear Anon, these are just people who want attention. People who have problems in their lives and talk shit about others to feel better. This is just the work of those people who believe in black magic and want to involve as many people as possible to think like them, and if they fail, they attack you because you didn't agree with them and you didn't go to their side. They can get so desperate they even get to the point of, oh I don't know, since you've blocked them, sending an anonymous ask to your girlfriend with a death wish for you:

The funny thing for me besides thinking that maybe this person believes they're a witch and imagining them with a voodoo doll with a needle in my stomach, is that I was kind to them the first time 🤷🏻‍♀‍ I tried to make them reason, I really tried to meet them halfway, but sometimes that's not enough with people like that.

But anyway. My point is that no, management has nothing to do with it. Thank you for your ask, dear 🤗

It's okay, dear Anon, don't worry 😄 In last time’s ask you wanted my opinion on the song, right? Well, Not Killin' It Today simply talks about how not every day is a good day. It can happen to all of us not to feel 100%, and Mila says just that. For us girls it can happen even more during or just before the red sea period, if you know what I mean, and indeed, she herself sings “I'm PMSing” = PMS: premenstrual syndrome. If that's why, I think she wrote this song precisely around that period 🤣

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Don't worry, dear, I can understand you, and if I hadn't, we would have found a way to do it. English is not my first language either.

1) Yes, I do think that.

2) (I knew all this) I know she did; she's been doing it for years if that's why because Taylor is one of Camila's mentors. Taylor is what can be defined as the celebrity master with PRs. She’s always done what she was asked to do and she’s always fulfilled her PRs duties of her contracts, and indeed, look where she is now, as well as being a great songwriter. So yeah, who better than her?

Hope you're great too, dear 🤗

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 I'm sorry I'm bad with general questions like this 😅 I'm so much better when I'm asked a more specific question, and usually, when I have something in mind, I write it and create a post with my opinion about it. I'm not kidding about how bad I am at this, believe me. It’s the same thing as when I get the typical “tell me something about yourself” phrase. It's like my brain suddenly switches off 😅🤣 Can you take a look at all my posts from my archive to see which ones I’ve already responded to and maybe come back with a question? I'm really sorry, dear 😖🥺

I'm sorry but Camila can't stop anything, dear Anon. Not Camila, not Roger, and not even Shoo. I understand your frustration, believe me, I do, but you, and anyone else to which this is still not clear, need to understand that it's a contract. A contract called a relationship contract, and it's a legally binding document. I know it's hard, but the advice I can give you is to ignore the 12-year-old SS and their fantasies, and wait for it to finish without wasting your energy on the bullshit they say. Don't let them get to you and unleash your anger. You make them win this way. Rather, have a laugh at their ignorance.

Hey dear Anon, I'm good, thanks, and I hope you're doing well too 😊 They broke up for a little while, for about a month before, so more than a breakup I would call it a little break. And to answer the rest of your questions, dear, I'll sum it all up by telling you that when they're not together, or they're on a break, they have a different way of acting than when they're together. And I speak in general. It shows in the way they behave in general. Now it's much harder to see since they're no longer in the group and you could clearly see when it happened, and it’s also hard since the pandemic, but there are patterns. I’ve spent so much time analyzing them that they're quite predictable in my eyes 🤣 Forgive me if I'm not going into details, but these are personal observations that not everyone can agree on, you know? Maybe I'll do it in the future, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀‍ We'll see 😉 Have a good day/night too 😄

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼 and thank you very much 😄 and yes, of course. To answer the rest of your questions, I'll summarize everything by telling you that you have to take into account that I entered the fandom at the Work from Home's time, so they were all just rumors to me initially. Camren themselves were just a rumor to me. I had to search, analyze, and find the proofs on my own to prove to myself which ones were true or not. The first example that comes to mind and that I can give you is the kiss in the van in London that I recently explained in my ‘Inauguration’ post.

I'm sorry you think this way, dear Anon. I honestly think she doesn't even know. She has said many times that she tries to stay away from social media, and I really believe that. She did it before already, but I'm convinced that she does that even more since she was going through that bad time and she was about to give it all up. Besides, it's known that she doesn't manage her accounts, just as it's known that she doesn't even control how they’re used I would say 90% of the time. I don't know if she'll find out and eventually will say something about it. We don't even know if she has the freedom to do so. So, I'm really sorry you're making a decision based on something she didn't do.

Hey to you too, dear Anon 😄 Yeah, it's nothing new. I'd already debunked the whole Laucy story with my very first post (https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648191757219250176/there-is-a-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel), so as far as I'm concerned, she can say what she wants in future podcasts/interviews as well, but she'll never be able to convince me that she's not actually talking about Camila. This was simply a much more chill, fun, with no tears, and no mention of Camila repetition. The first podcast served to plant the seed. We know that Lucy is her main narrative and we know that she will continue to use her for a very long time. I mean, it’s convenient for her. It's the perfect cover for our Mila. But if people want to keep believing they (Laucy) were real, that's honestly their problem 🤣 Let them be convinced of their beliefs, dear, and have a laugh 😉

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Here's the thing……… Yes, to everything you said 🤣 but let me explain why.

1&2) Yes, Laur is like ‘part’ of their contract but for simple narrative, as you yourself said too. If that's why, so are 5H and all the rest of the people who are or have been involved with them. I'll give you an example. You know the bullshit they said about the Austin Mahone tour? That Sunsilk was always isolated in his bus playing guitar? That no one spoke to him outside of Camila when there are actually plenty of videos showing him spending time with the rest of 5H and the other people on the tour too? Certainly none of those people can call him out on that bullshit today and say it wasn't true. They'd blow his cover. They'd make him not credible in the general public's eyes. So everyone needs to be quiet for what they know (that's how it works in that world for every damn thing), and that's Lauren's involvement in their PR. Be quiet. Be quiet and go along with the game. Just as Camila had to during hers with Tymbal.

3) They have to, dear, or all the farces told so far would go to shit for the GP too. 4) 100%, dear Anon, 100% 😏😉 but it must also be said that they'll remain connected forever anyway because of the group.

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Welcome and thank you very much 🤗

1) Everything she's been doing lately leads us to think that the first single for the EP will arrive shortly. I think and hope it will arrive for the summer, but as far as the actual EP is concerned, it will depend on the release of the single. So if the single is out this summer, it's very likely that the EP will follow its course by arriving towards the beginning of autumn. We'll see, dear, we'll see 🤞🏼 🤞🏼 🤞🏼

2) I know that many people get upset and that they're disappointed, and while I too would like her to interact with us more, I also know and understand that it's not just up to her. Although she's much but much freer than before, she still has contracts, people, and patterns to follow.

Take it from someone who's waiting for Rihanna's new album for 5 years 😅🤣 It takes patience, and I have a lot of patience, dear. I fall into the category of those who don't mind waiting simply because I'll always support Lauren.

People forget this: we have to consider ourselves lucky that after what she went through, she decided to pursue with music.

If you love her, if you stan her, then be patient. Stay metaphorically speaking by her side no matter what. That’s what I think, dear Anon.

Do you mean the first breakup they had that lasted from late November 2014 to late December/very first days of January 2015, or do you mean the bad one that took place in October 2015? But in any case, both of your questions rejoin only one event, dear Anon: the real breakup of the group that happened in mid-October 2015. But answering you more specifically:

1) You can see with your own eyes the videos of the interviews of that period by starting with this one https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WqOb9qBQ_M&t=11s.

2) Camila’s unofficial departure from the group at the time was the icing on the cake, but you have to consider a lot of things, dear. The fact that they were young. The fact that they were in the spotlight and were being monitored by both fans and management. The fact that they had those same people controlling them and telling them what to do all the time. The fact that they were constantly under pressure. The fact that they couldn't be together freely as a couple. The fact that they were forced to pretend they didn't love each other. The fact that they were forced to do PRs, despite being much lighter than now. I could go on with the list, dear Anon, but I think you get the point. It's a lot of stress and a lot to digest, especially considering how young they were and the environment around them.

Have a nice day too, dear 😄

Of course I can answer you, dear Anon 😊 So, in my opinion, and always keep in mind that I could be wrong, she told every person in her clique at different times. I think Mila knew about her attraction to girls back in school, but she didn't say anything to anyone because she didn't have a reason to. In the sense that she hasn't had the opportunity to approach another girl and therefore have a reason to tell someone about her queerness. After her first kiss with Lauren on New Year's Eve, I'm willing to bet that the first person she came out to was her mom. Camila's number one best friend is and always has been Sinu, so I can feel it in my bones that she was the first one to know. Oh and, we're in early 2013 here, so Mila was still 15.

After Sinu, there were the girls (DNA) who obviously lived their story with them step by step and therefore I don't think it was a real coming out with them, and her best friends back at home, Sandra and Marielle Guzman (and maybe also Mariana Luna since she was the other one with whom she was very close immediately after the two sisters, but I'm not very convinced of it), and Jenny Runza, who despite being a little younger than Sinu, Mila has always regarded as one of her best friends.

In 2014, when Camren were official, there were more confirmations that led to her automatic coming out with the rest of her clique's friends since the word Camren had already spread around like wildfire for almost two years by then.

At the beginning of 2015, it was the moment when Laur came out to her family, so I strongly believe that that was also Alejandro's moment, although I'm convinced that like the Jaureguis, Ale knew about his daughter all along and that he was even more convinced at X-Factor. Sofi was last on the list simply for a matter of age and I'm talking about 2017. I can't tell you when she told her grandpas. I don't even know if she could have told Norberto because I don't know the kind of relationship she has with him, but Mercedes? Well, abuelita certainly knew this before 2018 because I laugh when I think about the way she looked and talked with Mattress during their PR.

It's not that simple, dear Anon. You're not considering the fact that they didn't communicate during that time. You're dwelling on only one thing and are not looking at the big picture of their relationship at the time. Okay. Let's do something. Picture a scenario that has nothing to do with Camren.

Picture a couple living together. A couple who often quarrel over even the most trivial things or who don't talk at all because they almost avoid each other. Their relationship is very unstable and they're basically at the end of it. Now picture a conversation between this couple in which the only exchanges spoken in a normal way are by then just daily information such as: “I'll be at work from 8 to 4” - “Okay. Will you come home right after?” - “Yeah, I think so” - and then that person comes home at 6 pm despite the worried calls and messages received.

They're so distant that the person who came home late didn't feel compelled to pick up the phone and tell them about the delay. Probably that person didn't even feel compelled to give an explanation and justify the delay once they got home because they're convinced that their partner doesn't really care and that they're just looking for yet another excuse to argue. That person will have felt even more trapped and suffocated by their partner who was really worried instead, but neither of them tells the other the truth because they're too busy arguing and blaming each other instead of meeting each other halfway and really talking about what they feel and makes them vulnerable. They will surely end up in bed with their backs to each other without saying a word to each other after the fight.

Now look at these phrases from the song itself and put Camren's faces in place of the couple in the example: “With no confrontation, I really wish we could talk about it instead” – “All I need from your side is for you to communicate”. Is it easier for you to understand the dynamic now, dear?

Hello to you too @camilalauren0327 👋🏼😄 [why can't I ever tag you in posts?]

No, no, no, dear. None of this happens. So. I'd like to start by saying that OCD begins when people misunderstand their own thoughts. We've all had unwelcome and intrusive thoughts at least once in our lives, right? Well, the importance of those thoughts becomes much more intense or sometimes even extreme for people with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Like, I'll give you a stupid example, okay?

Most of the time I park, I lock the car, and after I’ve taken a couple of steps, I ask myself: “Ma ho chiuso la macchina?” / “Did I lock the car?”. So, I turn around and lock it again with the keys' remote control even though I've already done it, but I do that anyway to be sure and because maybe I really didn't do it because it happened for real. Now. What would a person with OCD do? Most likely they would do like me, and after getting halfway, they would go back again to close it AGAIN. They would do it a couple of times, and most likely, they would do it a third time after they got home. They would leave the house to go lock the car they've already locked five times.

OCD can begin in adolescence, early adulthood, or even childhood. The onset of obsessive-compulsive disorder is typically gradual, but in some cases, it can begin suddenly. Symptoms vary in severity from time to time and this variation may be related to the occurrence of stressful events. Now. Doesn't all this rings a bell for you? No? Okay, let me explain. I'll copy a piece of my ‘Camren Timeline (Tittle edited)’ post for you: “Camila suffers from one of the variants of OCD since she was 8, and despite seeing a therapist since 2013, her OCD was diagnosed at the end of 2015. C also suffers from anxiety, panic attacks, mood disorders, and depression (all linked to her OCD).”

Why did she start suffering from it at the age of 8? Because little Mila moved back and forth between Havana and Mexico City until she was 5, almost 6, right? After that, she moved to Miami with her mom by leaving behind her family, her friends, basically everything she knew, and her dad. Her dad finally managed to rejoin them almost two years later when she was almost 8 years old. Although she had her family with her again, her little mind didn't relax. It didn’t bring peace to her. In fact, that sprang her first OCD symptoms, which gradually worsened and then fully erupted years later in the group.

What triggers OCD? Stressful life events.

Got it now? Were you able to put the pieces together, dear? I've also answered other questions on the same topic here if it may interest you: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648194918161989633/%C9%9F.

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Don't worry, nobody’s asked me to do it yet.

So, as I think we all know, The Boy was originally titled Care About Me. Ed Sheeran wrote it and gave it to Mila for her self-titled album Camila. Mila almost completely rewrote it (Ed said 90% of it) and lastly discarded it because it didn't fit well with the rest of the songs on the album, and I totally understand that.

Intro:

“Yeah, he's messed up a couple times

But he's my glass of cherry wine

And I drink and I drink 'til I'm drunk off of him

I'm in love

(Ash:) He just hit me up to come over

He said what?”

So. The song begins with Mila trying to justify the boy by saying that even though he made mistakes, she's so into him to get past it. I know she used terms like drunk off of him and in love, but she doesn't mean that she's actually in love with him in this case. Just very into him. She's jokingly explaining the situation because she's talking to Ashlee, her friend, and I don't know about you, but my friends and I often use the term in love to make people laugh and to indicate interest in someone.

Like if we see someone for the first time and they're really hot, or if one of the celebrities we like posts like a selfie, we say “I'm in love”. Or, like, another kind of example: one of my best friends has been dating this guy for a few months, and last week he surprised her with some flowers (which he paid very much by the way) and with dinner just because. Hearing her happiness since she has always had only assholes so far, when she finished telling me everything, I made fun of her by laughing and saying: “Lost in love, huh?”. Not because she's actually in love with him, but because it was such a nice thing and she's into him.

So Mila used those phrases to indicate how much she liked him and not because she was actually in love. Also because if she had really been in love with him, she wouldn't have said she didn't care about him for the rest of the song.

Then ‘Ash’ receives the text, and this leads us to understand that the boy is a player and a cheater.

Verse 1:

“Momma said, ‘Always be kind, girl’ (Girl, what's on your mind?)

But I got something I should say (Say it, girl), uh

Boy, I'm sick and done and tired (There's something on my mind)

I'm not yours to manipulate, uh-huh (Tell him girl, tell hi)”

It explains itself quite well. She can't take it anymore.

Pre-Chorus:

“Oh boy, hold your tongue, I don't want no 'pology

‘Cause we both know you're thinking wit' was under your jeans”

Mila tells him not to waste his breath on justifications derived from his member because she doesn't need them. Tsk, Tsk. Typical male behavior. 80% of their thoughts are formulated based on how and where to put their tool in 🙄

“Sent your friends over to tell them you're missing me”

He even sends his friends to her to try to change her mind, but:

“But I don't care, so tell that boy that I am fine”

But she doesn't care. She doesn't care because she's fine this way. In fact, she's better off without him.

Chorus:

“I don't care about the day he decided to leave

I won't be there when he tells another lie so”

This makes us understand how many times she's had to forgive his bullshit.

“I'm gon' use all of my words for weapons”

We know how lethal words can be.

“'Cause the boy don't care about me, lemme say it again, now, babe

I don't care about the way he thinks it's so sweet (Ah)

All that sugar cone gon' be bad for me tomorrow (Ah)”

He can try to kiss her ass as much as he wants, but she won't change her mind. Talking sweet to try to win her back doesn't work because she doesn't want to deal with a player who lies to her and messes up every time.

“I'm gon' use all of my words for weapons

'Cause the boy don't care about me”

He doesn't really care about her, so it's even useless to her that he tries to fix it.

Verse 2:

“All my girls inside the place now (Say we don't need no man)

No wonder we switch sides sometimes (We got this)”

Camilita, Camilita, Camilita 😏 No wonder many girls prefer other girls, huh?

Switching sides can mean switching sides in the true sense of the word, that is for example going from one side of a room to the other. It can mean changing your mind about something or someone. And, most interesting of all in this case, it can mean switching sides in sexual orientation.

I've said many times that she's a fucking genius, and we know how sneaky she is with her songs. She was really smart at using this hidden meaning because a lot of people took it for granted that she meant the meaning of changing her mind since we girls have this nomination about often changing our minds about something.

“Wipe that good look off your face (Say we got better plans)

Ooh, you better not act surprised (For real)”

Exactly. What would be the point? A lot of guys do that 🙄

Bridge:

“Oh, oh, don't care about me

That's fine with me, babe

You don't care about me

And that's fine with me

Fine with me, fine with me (Don't care about)

It is what I need, oh (That's fine with)

Don't care about, care about

Care about, care about me, oh”

She's fine with it simply because she doesn't care about him either.

Outro:

(Ash:) “Girl, that's old, we're done with that”

Yep. She's definitely done with that/him.

And this is my interpretation, dear Anon 😄 In my opinion, if this song really ended up on the self-titled, it would've been used to give yet another proof of her light, old PR with Michael. People were supposed to remember her last, sure, Jan, flame before meeting the love guru Matrix. It was supposed to be like: “Hey, hey, guys, I'm straight, look! I was with a boy and now with another grandpa one!”.

It's just a different version of the Cinderella song for me: she doesn't need a guy in her life. Don't wrap your head around it too much, dear Anon. There's no deep meaning behind it at all. After all, this song was given to her by her idol, and she certainly couldn't refuse. She changed it in a sassy and fun way, she saw that she couldn't fit it with the others because it wouldn't have made sense, and she then discarded it. The end. She was like: it was funny, but I actually have a story to tell. Bye-bye.

Have a good day too, dear ❤️

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 and yes of course I can do both, but for what purpose am I supposed to do All Again? I mean, I can give you my interpretation of that song without any problem, but it wasn't written by them. By none of them five. That's why I'm asking you for what purpose am I supposed to do that. And that should answer your second question as well. Like No Way and many other songs, the girls may have related to them, but they didn't write them. The only songs they wrote, and not alone but with other songwriters, are:

- Me & My Girls, Don't Wanna Dance Alone, and Who Are You for Better Together,

- All in My Head (Flex) for 7/27,

- and for the self-titled album we have Sauced Up: Arlen (+ other songwriters), Make You Mad: Normally (+ other songwriters), Lonely Night: Norminah (+ other songwriters), Messy: Normally (+ other songwriters), and Bridget: Alren (+ other songwriters).

It's like you ask me to give you my interpretation on for example Who Are You. I could do it without a problem, but that song was written by 8 different heads. With the exception of the bridge that we know Lauren wrote, I can't tell you who among Camila, Dinah, Normani, Ally, Julian Bunetta, PJ Bianco, and Nasri Atweh wrote which part. Analyzing a song sung by a single artist/songwriter is completely different because the idea and concept and feelings are based on a single person. The songwriters who co-write the song together with the artist adapt to them, or maybe the idea comes to one of them, but they modify the concept together with the artist based on their personal experience, as happened for example with Consequences.

Now that you know all this, do you still want me to analyze All Again? Let me know 😄

Let's move on to More Than That.

Lauren wrote four songs in 2016, two of them were meant to be for someone else, but one of them, as we all know well, she kept it to herself. She decided to keep More Than That to herself once she modified the original lyrics along with Prince Charlez and SoundzFire, aka Hue Wayne Strother.

Intro:

“M-M-M-Murda”

This small part of the initial effect intro we hear, is simply a shoutout to Murda Beatz, one of the two producers of the song.

Verse 1:

“I see you watching so I walked into your stare

'Cause I ain't in the position to be walking over there”

She's not in the position to go there simply because she's taken, but she likes to be watched. She likes the attention she's receiving, so she puts herself in plain sight so that this person can keep looking at her.

“I got a situation, I can tell you wanna know”

This guy must have wondered: ‘Why if she's looking back at me, then she won't approach me? Is she someone who likes playing hard to get? Is she a teasing sort? Is she waiting for me to go to her? Or maybe she's in a relationship?’ Typical questions you ask yourself in that situation, and Laur summarized them all in one simple sentence.

“How you can take an honest girl and turn her to a …

If I'ma take a gamble, then you better come correct

I need more than them diamonds that you got around your neck

Shit, anybody can flex, my baby do it best

If you come with somethin' better, then we might just take it there”

The stare, the fact that this guy has the money (diamond necklace), the physical appearance, are not enough for her to push her to cheat. Because if she has to take the risk of cheating, these are certainly not the things that would drive her to do it, but she could if he had something better to offer her. [And with that, please keep in mind that Lauren is a very loyal person and that she wouldn't have done it even if this guy had gone with something better]

Pre-Chrous:

“I know I ain't right for tempting you

But I just wanna see what you would do

If I gave you a taste of what I do

Just remember that I don't belong to you”

The fact that she returned his gaze, that she spoke to him and gave him just a little taste, doesn't mean that she’s no longer taken. As I said before, she likes the attention, and although she knows that it's wrong to instigate him, she does it anyway because she's playing with him. “It's kind of more like clowning him” as she said herself.

Chrous:

“You gon' have to come stronger than this liquor

Wanna take me home, better be more convincing

It'll take more than that to get to me

More than that to get your way

Boy, you better come stronger than this liquor

Wanna take me home, better be more convincing

It'll take more than that to get to me

More than that to get your way

I'm stronger than this liquor”

During the approach in which the guy tried to ‘take her home’ for the night, Lauren easily manages to reject him despite being drunk, because her loyalty is stronger than the attraction she may have felt for him and certainly stronger than what she was drinking.

Verse 2:

“If my man notice, there’ll be some issues”

🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣

I'm sorry but every time I listen to this part I can literally picture Camila turning into the Incredible Hulk as we've seen many times. And shit, despite her being tiny, Mila can be scary when she's pissed off.

“But take my number down, I just might hit you

No, I'm just playing, I'm so deep in love

But the way you talkin' might just have me actin' up”

Drunken thoughts mixed with attraction/arousal blocked by common sense and loyalty.

“The way you looking at me, boy, I know what's up

I can feel how you feel without even a touch”

Let's not fool ourselves, guys. You too will have felt when a person is ready to jump your bones. To feel it in the air. To perceive it from the way they look at you, talk to you, and yes, even using excuses to innocently touch for example your arm even if the intentions are far from innocent. These kinds of things, whether you're in a relationship or not, whether you're loyal or not, and especially if you're attracted to the person in question, make you feel appreciated. They make you feel good. But:

“But don't think that's gon' make me give it up

Boy, your time is up”

But that doesn't mean, however, that you take action on it. It doesn't mean you give in to temptation. It was nice, but no thanks. Bye-bye.

Outro:

“It'll take more”

It takes more than good looks, money, and fake, shiny people from L.A.

And that's it, dear Anon 🙃 This is just a funny song about a situation that happened in a club, in which Lauren shows her flirtatious side but also her loyal side. It wasn't that good for her image, but I have an explanation for that as well.

Remember how I initially said that Lauren wrote this song to give it to someone else and then decided to keep it for herself after modifying the original lyrics? Well, in my opinion, she ‘decided to keep it’ and was even chosen as a single, simply for the narrative. It was chosen to go along with the fake love square cheating bullshit [Lauren and Ty who cheated on Lucy and Alycia to be together]. People should have believed even more that Lauren was a person capable of cheating, and this song served the purpose.

🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍

Aaand I'm done 😜 I hope I was helpful in this case too 😄 Thank you all for your asks and as usual, know that I'm available for those who have questions, so feel free to ask 😊

Always remember to be kind, to others and to yourselves. Be a good example. Be patient. Be safe and take care of yourselves. Don't let our ship sink. Keep shipping them, but please respectfully 🙏🏼 Sending you virtual love and hugs 🤗🤗🤗 I love you, babies. Always with love, F ❤️

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ahsbitch · 4 years

Text

Something Strange In The Air-Hawthorne!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 7162

Summary: Michael will be staying at Miss Robichaux’s for a few months leading up to competing against the Reader in the Seven Wonders Test.

Warnings: NSFW, cursing, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, reader blacks out, also there’s a snake, if you’re scared of snakes maybe skip down to the last section bc pretty much all the others involve a snake, and a snake bite, Hawthorne!Michael deserves his own warning, yeah, also this is very much not proofread so, be prepared for that

A/N: This is written in honor of @guiltyfiend bc, you right, I think everyone wants to dom Hawthorne!Michael a little bit. This took me forever to write and is stupidly long (we love waxing poetic for no reason) but I hope y’all like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something strange in the air.

There was always something strange in the air, of course. Strange was probably too subjective, anyway. You’d never quite managed to find a place where the air was simply air, and in a city as electric as New Orleans, at a school as volatile as Miss Robichaux’s, there was always something prickling you, needling its way through your veins. It was why you took the time to meditate in the first place, to give you a chance to sort through it all, when you didn’t have to deal with physical world interrupting, when it was simply you and your mind and the universe playing a game of chicken, seeing which would bow to which, in the end.

But there was something that was a different kind of strange today, something that you hadn’t ever felt before.

No, you’d felt it before, you certainly had, but something you’d never felt quite so strongly, that was it.

It was a deep, poignant, throat catching sense of doom.

A hum rippled through the air, someone was taking a deep breath, and you knew in your mind that they were about to call out to you.

“Y/N,” It was Zoe, and there was a grit in her voice hidden so deep she probably wasn’t even aware that she was already annoyed, “The warlocks are here!”

Yes, that was it. That was the presence. The warlocks were here, and more importantly, Michael Langdon. The others had known the sense of doom too, the Supreme Cordelia had even had a vision about it. Cordelia was in fact probably the only person who felt the doom in a similar way to how you did, with her prophetic powers. The others felt it because it was so strong, but you were doubtful that it overwhelmed them like it did you, that they felt it so deeply they could practically taste it.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that now, you needed to go meet this mysterious Boy Wonder that had made some of the women you respected most in the world, leaders in your coven, shake in their boots.

You opened your eyes, finally, your head tilted back to look at the sky. After a moment, you slid down the steepled roof of the school, leaping nimbly to the nearest tree, scampering to the ground as quickly as you could. You took a step, but something squishy was under your foot, and you jumped slightly as you heard a loud hiss.

“Fuck,” You muttered to yourself, kneeling down, coming face to face with a snake, coiled back in preparation to strike, white mouth opened wide. You waved your hand in front of it, once, and as you watched your magic flow a sense of calm through the snake, you reached out to let it sniff you, smiling at it gently, “Hello, little friend. What are you doing so far from the water?”

The animal flicked its tongue out twice, slowly bringing its head back down, touching its face to your hand gently.

“I like you,” Moving slowly, you picked the snake up, looking levelly into the slitted eyes, “You wanna stay with me for a bit?”

The cottonmouth raised and lowered its head, and you pulled your hood back to rest it gently inside, the snake nestling instantly into the fabric.

With that, you hurried to the front of the school, where you saw four men and five women waiting for you.

The women, you knew. Cordelia, the Supreme, stood at the head of the line, her shoulders rolled back. Next to her was Myrtle Snow, then Zoe, and next to her were Madison and Queenie, the witches that Michael had rescued.

The men, you didn’t know, but in an instant you recognized which one was Michael Langdon.

He was beautiful, with fluffed, golden curls, piercing blue eyes, a cherubic face that held a smile so lovely most people would probably miss the sneer holding it up. He wore the Hawthorne uniform, which you’d only seen in photos, a black bow tied at his throat, his jacket thrown over his shoulder.

They had already made introductions, it seemed, all turning to watch you approach.

“There you are,” Cordelia gave you a small, reassuring smile as you moved to stand beside her, “Gentlemen, this is Y/N Y/L/N, one of our brightest witches, who we believe may be the next Supreme. Y/N, this is John Henry Moore, Behold Chablis, Grand Chancellor Ariel Augustus, and Michael Langdon.”

You nodded confidently, smiling at John Henry Moore as you shook his hand, a slightly smaller smile at Behold Chablis, your face dropping all emotion as you shook hands with Ariel Augustus, almost coughing as you were hit with a rush of negative energy.

“Did you just fall from a tree?” Ariel questioned, gripping your hand tightly.

You concentrated on making yourself smile again, and once you had a grin securely in place you shrugged, “I jumped, actually. I was on the roof, but jumping straight off the roof seems like a good way to end up injured, and I don’t like to transmutate immediately before and after I meditate.”

“Why were you on the roof?” John Henry Moore asked, looking amused.

You almost responded, but Behold spoke before you could, “Didn’t she just say? She was meditating.”

Myrtle moved behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “Our dear Y/N is very sensitive to the vibrations of the universe. I believe it’s what makes her so good at playing my theremin. She meditates to sort the different callings that pull at her.”

Nodding, you turned to the mysterious Michael Langdon, watching him. He stared back, cocking his head to the side, and after a moment he extended his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” He said coolly, his voice strangely melodic.

You shook firmly, not releasing when the shake was done, not intending to fully end the shake until he moved to end it himself, “Hello, Boy Wonder. It’s nice to- no, actually it’s not particularly nice to meet you. But I’m happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard lots of stories, and I’m grateful for what you’ve done for our coven by returning Madison and Queenie to us.”

His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth as if to object before suddenly jerking his hand back, frowning, “I’m sorry, but what is that?”

What was he talking about?

A slight hiss next to your ear explained it. The snake had crawled up to your shoulder, and you glanced to see that it was looking at the Grand Chancellor. It seemed that the snake didn’t trust Ariel Augustus either.

Ariel jumped, staring, his hand raising up and mouth opening, and you could tell that some type of spell was on the tip of his tongue.

“No,” You snapped, reaching a hand up to the snakes head, and Ariel stumbled backwards, pushed back by magic that you hadn’t even meant to send out, “Sorry. It’s a snake. A cottonmouth, although I’ve never seen one this far from water. I just found him. Stepped on him, actually, although he didn’t take it too personally. I mean, he almost bit me, but I wouldn’t have particularly blamed him if he did, and after I calmed him down with a little charm he seemed happy to come with me. I’d like to keep him,” You turned away from the warlocks, glancing at Cordelia, “May I? I’ve already thought of a name for him.”

Madison, Queenie, and Zoe had all stepped away from you, anxiety thrumming through the air from their direction, but Myrtle chuckled, and Cordelia nodded, something inquisitive just behind her eyes, “You may, so long as you take good care of him, and so long as your new roommate doesn’t mind.”

You whipped back around to Michael, beaming, “What do you think, Boy Wonder? Can Richard stay with us?”

A deep frown etched into his features, which he looked annoyingly pretty in spite of, and he turned to Cordelia and the warlocks, “What does she mean?”

“We’re happy to have you staying with us for the next few months leading up to the Seven Wonders test, but there is currently an overflow of witches. Every room is currently occupied, some by multiple girls,” Zoe stepped in to explain, “Y/N had space for a roommate. I’m surprised that the Grand Chancellor didn’t tell you.”

Ariel shrugged, mumbling something about it not seeming important, and Michael looked at you, horrified, as you slung an arm around his shoulder, “I probably could’ve swapped around with someone, but I thought it’d be fun if we bunked together. Give us a chance to get to know each other better, y’know? So c’mon, Mikey, can we keep the snake?”

“Do not call me that,” He snapped, shrugging you off of him and adjusting his collar, “I don’t care about the snake. I don’t like you.”

“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry,” Blowing a kiss in his direction, you whispered a celebration to the snake before turning back to your sister witches, “Let’s give them a tour!”

You were pleased with this interaction. He was taken aback by you, and you could tell just from a single glance that Michael was not one who was easily taken aback. His energy shifted, something hard to determine just under the surface. You were curious to see what you could learn about him, before the two of you competed against each other during the test of the Seven Wonders.

Alongside that was the strong feeling that at some point you would either fuck him or beat him up, and you found that you were also curious to see which it would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael Langdon was an asshole.

You’d managed to catch him by surprise the day you’d first met him, to get him to stumble, but by the time you’d walked through the front door of the school he had found his composure, and you hadn’t managed to see him without it since then. He was always well put together.

Alongside being an asshole.

The other witches in your coven were finding themselves swayed by him, you could tell. They didn’t want a male Supreme, but they were fading into his easy charm and good looks. Most spent their time flirting with him, and he seemed incredibly smug at all the attention. They didn’t seem to mind how clearly indifferent he was to them, not particularly harsh, but also never making an effort to be nice, either.

The only person he actively disliked? You.

You couldn’t blame him, of course, but he was a huge pain in the ass.

For example, he was stealing your study room.

There were several areas in the school where students could study, of course. Most of the girls just did it in their rooms, and there was one room at the back of the house that was your favorite, holding a large table with bookshelves on either side and a large picture window opposite the door. You were the only one who used it, because there were nicer ones with tables that didn’t have splinters and light bulbs that weren’t constantly flickering no matter how often they were changed.

And then Michael Langdon showed up, and started hogging the room.

It wasn’t as though you really needed the full study room to yourself, of course. But he took up so much space.

He spread books along the entire table, and he always used his magic to adjust the lighting and change the temperature.

“Boy Wonder,” You sighed one day, about a week and a half after his arrival, “Can you please give me some space on the table?”

Michael glanced up at you, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips although he kept the rest of his face neutral, “What’s wrong, little witch? Are you mad that I beat you in here for once?”

“I’m mad that you take up all the room,” You snapped, “And that you’ve made it fucking freezing in here.”

“I can make it snow, too. Wanna see?”

You kinda did, actually, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“No, I want you to put the temperature back so it’s warm enough that I can’t see my own breath. I can literally see the heat waves rolling off of you, Boy Wonder,” And you could, and it was really fucking weird, in a very interesting sort of way.

Still not bothering to turn to you, Michael shuffled his books around until there was a new one in front of him, “Little witch, why do you think I’d give a fuck what temperature you want it to be?”

“Because, Boy Wonder, Richard can’t handle this cold,” You gestured to the snake who was wrapped around your shoulders, shivering along with you.

Shrugging, Michael stood up finally, walking over to you and reaching a hand out. You stared for a moment, slowly reaching your own out and pressing your palm to his, and the two of you stared at each other for a solid minute and a half, his hand searing hot against your own cold palm, and when he finally pulled away he raised a curious eyebrow at you, “I was reaching for the snake.”

He still wore that ridiculous fucking Hawthorne uniform, and looking at him in it made you wonder once again how well you would fare in beating him up.

“Oh. Shit, sorry,” You said hurriedly, pulling Richard off your shoulders and down around your arm, but then you paused and looked at Michael, your voice heavy with suspicion, “Why do you want him?”

“I’m warmer than you. He can hang out with me and you can go study in our room. Or you can take him back to the room and study with in there with him. Either way,” He said simply, as though you were a bit stupid for not knowing that already.

Glaring, you took a step closer to him, trying your best to be intimidating, “I can’t go study in our room, actually, because your shit is all over my desk, too. And I don’t want Richard to spend all day stuck in the room. He likes going other places. Just make some damn space.”

Michael took two steps forward and suddenly your back was against the wall. He looked closely at you for a minute, and then he reached his hand out again, drawing his thumb across your lower lip, “Why do you always wear lipstick?”

“What?” You stared up at him, dumbfounded.

“You wear lipstick a lot,” Michael pulled his hand away, glancing at the residue left behind on his thumb, and then turned it back to you, “I’m curious why. Can you get this for me?”

“What?”

Rolling his eyes, Michael gripped your chin, pushing his thumb against your lips until they parted. Your eyebrows scrunched together, and you closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to concentrate on what the actual hell was happening.

It wasn’t even lipstick, it was tinted lip balm.

His energy had reached a point that was especially strange, still dark and angry like always, but with a type of curiosity to it as well. He was wondering something, and that made you wonder what he was wondering, and there was such a loop of wondering going on that you didn’t even realize that your tongue was swirling around him, didn’t even notice the slight shift in his demeanor as he pushed the two more of his fingers into your mouth, shoving them down your throat.

What the fuck?

You shifted, trying to reach up and push him away, but his magic pinned your hands at your sides and all you could do was gag around him, frantically struggling. Magic, magic, do something with your magic to get him to stop, but you couldn’t get it to work, couldn’t get anything to happen. You bit down, desperate, and he hissed as he raised his other hand to your chin, holding it pulled down so you couldn’t bite anymore, scratching his nails gently across your jaw as he did so.

“You look good like this, do you know that? Gagging. I think you were made for it. It’s interesting, how aware you are of energies, of vibrations in the universe, and yet I don’t think you’re even conscious of the energy you send out. How desperate you are for me. You aren’t aware of it because you don’t want to be. I can read your mind, little witch. You may not like me, but you do want to fuck me. You wear revealing clothes and you act like you’re doing it for yourself, like you’re empowered, but you’re not. You act high and mighty, as though you’re wise and powerful, but really you’re just a dumb, depraved, desperate little whore who wants nothing more than to be dicked down by your rival.”

What the fuck was he talking about? That wasn’t true!

Was it?

He was pretty fucking hot, you had to admit, but you didn’t want to get dicked down by Michael Langdon.

You couldn’t want that.

Fuck.

Finally, finally, when you thought you were going to pass out or puke or maybe both, he pulled completely away from you, stepping back.

You doubled over, catching your breath, and when you straightened up your magic was finally working again, sending Michael flying across the room until he was pressed against the window, and you gasped, “What the fuck, Langdon? What the actual fucking fuck?”

Michael tried to shrug, but his shoulders wouldn’t move, and after a moment you released him, wishing that he would maybe fall over, but he just smoothly stepped forward, making his way back to you, “I’ll raise the temperature back to normal. And here,” He waved his hand in the air and the books in front of one of the seats at the table flew to other spots, clearing you an area, “I suppose there’s room for us to share the table. No promises on my kindness extending to tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll beat you here tomorrow,” You said, thinking through each of your words carefully as you spoke, “And you can suck my Dick, Langdon.”

Richard raised his head up and down as you set him on the table, slithering closer to Michael as if in emphasis to your point.

“Good one, little witch. That’s very clever, for you,” He chuckled, taking the seat next to the one he had cleared space for you at and sliding his fingers into his own mouth, tilting his head back as he cleaned them off and then pulling them back out with a flourish, shooting you a condescending look, “Are you going to sit? If you’re just here to stare, I’d prefer it if you’d leave. You can be very distracting sometimes.

Numbly, you took a seat next to him, trying hard to ignore his cocky grin, and pulled a book out of your bag.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sharing a bedroom with Michael Langdon presented its own challenges. He was an asshole in private just as much as he was in front of others, and it was pretty fucking annoying.

“Are you ever gonna go to fucking sleep?” Michael snapped at you, pulling his pillow over his eyes.

“There’s too much noise,” Sighing, you cracked your knuckles, letting Richard the snake trail across your legs, “And not enough noise, at the same time. Am I really bothering you that much? I turned the lights out and everything.”

He growled, removing the pillow from his head and squinting across the room at you through the darkness, “Doesn’t matter, does it, little witch bitch? You’re still a pain in the ass whether the light is on or off. Can’t you just ignore the noise?”

“Fuck you, Langdon, you don’t know shit. I can’t just-shit! Ow, motherfucker,” You hissed, jumping, as Richard bit your finger, “Why the fuck would you do that you dick?”

“What happened?” Michael straightened up, “Y/N?”

The snake was slithering away already, and as he did you were flooded with a strange feeling, the metallic taste of magic in the air. Richard hadn’t bitten you of his own accord, someone had made it happen, and that someone was probably Michael.

“Y/N,” He repeated, “Come over here.”

Your feet carried you to his bed without your brain guiding them, and you dropped to the mattress next to him, holding out a shaky hand, “Richard bit me.”

Michael wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his large hand engulfing yours as he brought it closer to his face, examining carefully, “Yeah, you did. Weird. You feeling okay?”

You weren’t. Your mind was hazy, and you didn’t know why. It wasn’t the snakebite that did it, you could just tell, it was something deep in your chest and spreading through your body, making you feel like you were in a great fog, and you stared at him, “I don’t feel great, actually.”

“Would you like me to fix it?” Pressing a kiss to your palm, Michael raised an eyebrow at you.

“I, uh, I don’t know what you, what you mean by-” You cut off, closing your eyes to concentrate, rather than letting yourself get lost looking at Michael.

Dammit, why did he have to be so fucking pretty? It was such a pain.

Night was the only time you saw him looking casual, too. Night and early morning, when he was in bed.

Seeing him unbuttoned like this made a strange flip turn in the pit of your stomach.

“I can make the pain go away, little witch,” His voice was hoarse and whispery, “Just say the word.”

“Okay,” You breathed, even though you probably shouldn’t, you should say no, should pull away, should find a way to fix it yourself or maybe go to Cordelia or one of the other witches for help, you didn’t trust Michael, you shouldn’t trust Michael, but the word came out and you were making eye contact with him and fuck, fuck, fuck what were you doing with your life?

Michael pulled your finger into his mouth, wrapping his lips just below the bite wound, and began sucking gently.

“What... what are you doing?” You asked blearily, unable to break your eyes away from his, “I don’t... I don’t think you can really suck out the venom. I don’t even know if there is venom? He bit so quick, it was more of a nip than anything, I don’t-”

Pulling his head away for a moment, Michael frowned, “Are you ever quiet, little witch? Just hush, for once, and let me make you feel better.”

Why was he being so nice? It wasn’t nice, you knew it wasn’t really, there was some type of trick to this, some type of trick to everything he did, and yet you felt swept away, some how. Overwhelmed, intoxicated, by Michael Langdon.

You nodded, and his lips were around you again, and it was working, you could feel it. The strange pain in your body, that had started to cloud your chest, your throat, stomach, everything, it was fading away.

You weren’t quite sure what was replacing it, as it certainly wasn’t anything you were used to, but it was mostly calming. There was a thrill of adrenaline spiking through you, but something else. Something deeper. There were few emotions that you couldn’t identify, but this was perhaps one of them. Whatever you were feeling, it was not something that you were used to.

When the pain was gone and your head was a bit clearer, you tried to pull your hand away. Michael held firm to your wrist, although he let you ball your fingers into a fist, releasing you from his mouth. “How does that feel?” He cooed, tapping his fingers along your veins.

“Better,” You said slowly, and then, “Weird, though. I feel weird. I want... I’m tired, I think.”

“What do you want?” Michael asked, and there was a smirk on his face that made you want to slap him, and then because your head was still not altogether there, you did slap him.

Your hand, the one he wasn’t holding in place, hit his cheek at an astounding speed, leaving an angry red mark, and before you could even process that you had done so, you threw your leg across his lap, straddling him, and pressed your lips to his.

Releasing your wrist finally, Michael pressed his hands into the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, and you stroked your thumb over the mark on his face, listening to Michael’s growl as you pressed down.

You pulled away after a moment, cupping his face in your hands, panting, “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Which part?” Michael nipped at your bottom lip, smiling a smile that did not soften his eyes at all, “Slapping me? Or kissing me? Because I’ll be honest, I wasn’t fully expecting either of them, little witch bitch.”

“You’ve done something to me,” You mused, beginning to kiss along his throat, “I don’t know what, or how, or why, but there’s something you’ve done. There are a lot of things I want right now.”

“Tell me,” Michael commanded, but then he let out a groan as you brushed your lips over the spot where his jaw met his neck, and his usual suave, intimidating demeanor dropped as you began sucking furiously at the spot. He spoke again, more softly this time, “Stop, tell me.”

Leaning back to glance at him, you smiled sweetly, “Make me, Boy Wonder,” and then you were at it again, leaving a large clump of bruises near his ear.

“Seems like you have feelings for me, little bitch,” With mocking laughter, Michael trailed his hands to your hips, giving a harsh squeeze, “What would your sister witches think?”

“The only feeling I have for you is loathing, Langdon,” You snarled, and in a moment your lips were connected once again, teeth clacking against each other, and when you both paused to catch your breath, you pressed your forehead to his, “Fuck, I really want to suck your cock.”

Michael snorted, “Everyone thinks you’re the future Supreme? You’re just a pathetic little cockslut.”

You ground your hips down against him and reared your hand back, but this time he caught your wrist, glaring, although he bucked slightly against you. “Fuck you, you’re the one who’s all marked up. You’re the one who’s fucking dry humping me. Look at you. You’re the pathetic one.”

“Sure I am,” Michael had a low, snarly chuckle that made a bolt of need shoot through you, and also made you very desperately want to hit him again, but seeming to know what you were thinking, he captured your other hand as well, “Such a fiery thing you are, little witch.”

Scowling, you bit his bottom lip and tugged, licking up the blood that beaded up and began to trickle down his chin. Smiling at the bitter taste, a yawn made its way through you before you could stop it. You felt yourself blushing a little at that, muttering quickly, “Sorry about that. I’m more tired than I thought, I guess. Being this close to you kinda blocks out a lot of the other energy, makes it all a lot quieter.”

“Then let’s sleep.”

You had started to kiss along his collarbones, but you paused at that, murmuring against his skin, “What?”

Michael wrapped his hand around your jaw, pulling you back so that he could look you in the eye, “You heard me, little witch. You’re tired. I am too. As much as I would love to see you gagging on my cock right now, I’d also enjoy getting some sleep. I’m planning to get up relatively early tomorrow to study.”

“I call the study room,” You said quickly, and you hadn’t even realized that Michael had shifted the two of you so that you were laying down, one hand still cupping your jaw, making it a bit difficult to speak, “What are you doing?”

“You really are quite dim, little witch. I’m going to sleep. You should do the same,” His voice was softening, although not in a kind way. It was soft, yes, but commanding, dangerous,and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Straining against his arms, you tried to stand, “I’ll go back to my bed.”

“You can’t sleep in your bed,” Michael said simply, rolling onto his back, one arm still flung across your waist, holding you in place.

Frowning, you turned your body towards him, curling into his side. He was warm. You didn’t even have a blanket covering you, and already you could feel yourself starting to overheat. You didn’t voice this though, not yet, too confused by the entire interaction to focus on that, “Why do you care so much how I sleep?”

“I don’t,” He said simply, “I care about my sleep. And I’m not going to lose my sleep just because you can’t grasp your own. Now, stop squirming around so much. Are you that worked up?”

“I’m hot,” You snapped.

“And bothered, apparently.”

“Langdon, do you ever shut the fuck up?” You jabbed your elbow into his side, “That’s not the hot I meant and you know it. I’m warm. You’re like a fucking furnace.”

Sighing, getting grumpier by the second, Michael hooked his arm around you and pulled you onto his chest so that you were straddling him once again, arms on either side of his body, head hovering over his chest.

He laughed at the way you yelped, being pulled so suddenly, and his hands rested on your back, bringing one up to guide your head down to rest against his chest, “Did I scare you, little witch?”

“No,” You answered quickly, and then, “Just, this is a weird position.”

“It should be a little cooler for you this way. Just sleep, yeah? Get comfortable, and let’s go to sleep,” Michael’s hand stroked up and down your back, probably unconsciously, and you nodded sleepily.

“Goodnight, Mikey,” You murmured, still largely unable to control your impulses.

“Don’t call me that,” He replied, and then, after a moment, he added gently, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you always here?” Michael sighed the next morning, setting his books down on your table.

“Why are you always such a dick?” You retorted, shuffling your own books to the side.

He shrugged, stiffening a little as you rested your hand on his thigh, “Because it’s fun. Listen, about last night, I don’t want you to think-”

“I don’t think anything,” You reassured him quickly.

“Well that’s obvious,” Michael snorted, “You’re far prettier than you are smart, and far more annoying than you are pretty. I’d be surprised if you used that little head of yours for much more than deciding what color lipstick you should wear and fantasizing about getting fucked.”

Pulling your hand away, you scowled at him, “That’s not what I meant, asshole. I was going to thank you for helping me fall asleep, but now I’d rather just give you another hickey or something, so everyone who looks at you like you’re a god will see what a little bitch their Boy Wonder actually is.”

“I would take that back, if I were you,” He said coolly, his voice deadly calm.

You stood, though only for a moment, and pushed his chair back enough for you to be able to sit, straddling his lap much like you had the night before. Hooking your arms around his neck, you looked at him with a smile, “I have no intention of taking anything back. I said what I said, and I fucking meant it.”

Faster than you knew he could move, Michael stood and slammed your back against the table, knocking the wind out of you. His hands reached under the fabric of your dress and he ripped your underwear off quickly, stuffing them into the pocket of his dress pants as he looked at you, “You have no power here, do you understand that? You may have felt like you were in charge last night, but that’s only because I fucking let you. You’re feisty, and I like that, but you need to learn your fucking place, little witch bitch. Tell me you want that. Tell me you want me to teach you your place, and I will. If you don’t, I’ll leave. But I think we both know which option you prefer.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly, and at his raised eyebrow you spoke, “I do. I mean, I, uh, I want you to show me my place. Whatever. Just fucking do something, Michael.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” He growled, sitting back down in his chair, and he tugged at you, pulling both your legs over his shoulders, your hips lifting off the table, so that his face was level with your pussy, “I’m the one in charge. Get it? I want you to sit there and-fuck, you’re already so fucking wet. You think you want to be in charge, but clearly you know that you’re meant to be at my mercy. I want you to sit there and melt underneath me, and you’re gonna keep melting until there’s nothing left of you. Get it?”

“I get it,” You agreed quickly, although you really weren’t quite sure what he meant by that, and your hips bucked weakly forward at the feeling of his hot breath against you, “Please, Michael.”

“So fucking desperate. You’re fucking dripping for me, and I’ve barely even touched you,” Chuckling, Michael placed a tiny, barely there, ghost of a kiss against your clit, and even though he wasn’t touching you anymore you could feel his wolfish grin at the way you whined when he pulled away.

Michael dragged his teeth against the soft skin of your thighs, nipping at the junction of your pelvis, and you knew as he continued that there were dark flowers blossoming along after his teeth. You squirmed underneath him, and when he finally finished with your thighs he placed his palms against them, holding them open, his long fingers pressed against your hips so they stayed down.

You sat up as well as you could to look at him, and you watched as he stared intently at your pussy, leaning forward after far, far too long to lick a slow, languid stripe up your clit. You moaned weakly, giving a flick of your hand to slam the study room door shut and lock it, and after a moment you dug your hands into his hair, “Michael, wait, the window.”

He leaned back for a moment to glance at the large picture window that took over the wall to your left, and then he beamed up at you, “It’s fine, little witch. No one will walk by, and if they do, it won’t embarrass me, so it doesn’t matter much. That reminds me, if being noisy is gonna make you embarrassed, you might wanna find some way to be fucking quiet for once. I know that’s not your strong suit, but it’s the best you’re gonna get.”

What a dick.

You were about to voice this thought, tell him what a dick he was, but then Michael clamped his teeth down gently on your clit, giving a playful tug, and you let out a shriek at that, bringing one hand up to stop yourself from making too much noise.

Suddenly his tongue was inside you, tracing along the walls of your cunt, exploring, searching for something, and when he found the spot he was looking for you bit sharply into the palm of your hand.

He was masterful in the way he ate you out, his nose still brushing your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

It didn’t take long until you felt your stomach tightening, ready to burst, and you tugged at Michael’s thick golden curls, whimpering, “Fuck, Michael, I’m gonna-”

“Do it, little witch,” He spoke against your skin, and you shuddered at the vibrations it sent through you, “Melt for me. Let yourself dissolve for me.”

Your orgasm washed over you, Michael attacking your g-spot with a ferocity that you probably should’ve expect but didn’t. He kept going, and you gasped, pulling harder at his hair, “Michael! Stop, you gotta stop, give me a minute.”

He pulled away for just a moment and you gasped, but then his lips were around your clit and sucking furiously. You cursed loudly, another orgasm already approaching, or maybe the first one extending, you couldn’t tell, couldn’t think about it, you were overwhelmed.

For the first time in your life, you could only feel one sense of energy coming at you. Everything else was blocked out, hidden away behind the deep, angry lust that rolled through the air between you and Michael.

He moved back down and began lapping furiously at your folds. Pulling back for a moment, Michael spat on your pussy and then buried his face against you once more, shaking his head furiously, and you struggled to hold back your moans.

You weren’t intending to give him the damn satisfaction.

Michael seemed to realize you were holding back as he started speaking again, his voice muffled against you but bringing another orgasm bubbling to the surface of your skin, electrifying you, “You taste delicious, do you know that, little witch? So sweet. Maybe a little bitter, but so sugary. I could eat you for hours. You know what? I think I will.”

“Fuck,” You let out a hiss as he dove back in, tongue delving into you once more, and you did your best to act smug, like he wasn’t sending shockwaves through your very being, “Is this the best you’ve got, Boy Wonder? You’re supposed to be teaching me my place, right? But I’m kind of-dammit to fuck, holy hell-kind of the one in charge here, huh? I’m the one above you right now.”

You couldn’t even be sure why exactly you were saying this, why you were egging him on when it was becoming painful how much pleasure was running through you, but he didn’t respond. At least, not out loud.

Leaping to his feet, Michael pulled you up closer to him, so that only your shoulders were still laying down. You adjusted your position frantically, scrabbling to grip onto the edge of the table. You were upside down and practically vertical, and he dug into you as though he were indeed starving for you, snarling and slobbering, glaring down the length of your body at you. Your body had started to spasm, and you bit your hand until you tasted blood.

There were explosions going off in your mind, and not just metaphorical orgasmic explosions, but actual ones too, nuclear blasts dancing across your hazy thoughts.

You couldn’t be sure how long this went on, how many times you came, it was all a blur. You’d given up on keeping your sounds under control and were now openly sobbing, shuddering as he continued to devour you.

“Stop, Michael, please, I can’t take it,” You were blubbering, straining hard against him and desperately trying to pull away, but Michael held you firmly in place, chuckling at your desperation.

He pulled your clit into his mouth once more, the suction almost unbearable, and you were smashed with your final orgasm, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he moved to lick at your folds again, a dark glint in his eyes as he watched you pant, watched your own eyes rolling back in your head, and the sight of him smiling against you was the last thing you see before a dark haze overtook you.

You were surrounded by darkness, everything you saw misted in a painful, prickling fog. The air smelled like sulfur, and you looked down to see that you were covered in blood.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A familiar voice rang in your ear, and you swiveled slowly, sluggishly, to see Michael standing just to your right, an admiring grin on his face, “We did very well, my little witch.”

You tried to respond, but your words stuck in your throat, and you simply stared at Michael. He was wearing something other than pajamas or the Hawthorne uniform for the first time you had ever seen. His hands were folded neatly behind his back, but as you stared at him he reached one arm out and entangled your fingers in his.

The sky was thick with grey and black clouds, and Michael’s hand was searing hot against your own. When he pulled away, moving to examine a piece of rubble not far from you, you looked at your palm to see that it was bright shade of pinkish red, as though it had been sunburned.

Michael turned back around to look at you expectantly, and you saw that the piece of rubble he was leaning against had a large sign on it, with a large chunk missing from one of the top corners.

--Miss Robichaux’s Academy For Exceptional Young Ladies--

Holy shit.

When your eyes fluttered back open, Michael was sitting in his chair once more and had adjusted you so that your back was resting on the table again, although your legs were still splayed over his shoulders.

You gasped when you caught sight of his face, your mind still tumbling at the...dream? vision? mirage? You weren’t sure what it was, but you were scrambling to reconcile what you had seen with what was happening now.

Michael merely raised an eyebrow at you, pulling your legs off of his shoulders, “Are you back with me now, little witch?”

“Fucking hell,” You breathed, trying to sit up.

Placing a hand on your stomach, Michael tutted, “Stay down. At least for a few moments. You blacked out and you’re gonna do it again if you’re not careful.”

“I’m okay,” You reassured him, sitting up again after a few moments, swinging your legs down and frowning, “Fuck, I can’t feel my legs.”

“That makes sense,” Michael stood, looking down at you coolly, “I think I’ll go study elsewhere. See you around, little witch.”

“What? You can’t just leave,” You couldn’t believe it, and you tried to stand but fell back immediately, your entire lower body trembling.

Michael didn’t bother to respond, just turned away from you with that ridiculous smirk on his face, and walked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something strange in the air, but this time you knew what it was.

Desire.

Michael Langdon was an asshole, but you knew from everything that had happened that you two were destined to meet, although you weren’t sure why.

It seemed that you were going to have to figure it out.

452 notes · View notes

katymacsupernatural · 3 years

Text

The Depth of EbonyPart 10

Dean Winchester/Reader

Story Summary: A hell hound is needed to fulfill a spell. A hellhound is captured by TFW. But it turns to be more than they bargained for. Y/N becomes more than they bargained for.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Your story. He wanted to hear your story. A story so forgotten in time. Ever since you had become that horrid beast. Your family, your friends, all long gone from this world. For years, you had been alone, tormented, and teased. Hurt and broken time and time again by Alistair and the other Hell Hounds. How could you look Dean in the eye and tell him all of that?

“Well, at least start out with the basics.” He insisted, his green eyes searching your face for answers. “How old are you? When were you born?”

“Well, if you count how old I was before I turned into a Hell Hound, I’m 22. But that was in the year 1920.”

“1920!” He exclaimed. “That makes you over...well, wow,” he finished lamely. “You’ve spent that long as a Hell Hound. That’s horrible.”

“It really was,” You agreed, shivering as some of the worst memories flashed through your mind. Reaching for your glass of orange juice you took a sip, letting it clear the hoarseness from your throat.

Dean bit off a huge bite of bacon, munching loudly on it as he thought about it. “Damn, I’m sorry. But how the hell did you turn into one of those creatures.”

“A jealous woman. She was a witch. A very powerful one I’ve come to find out. Her name was Adelia. Absolutely beautiful with hair as black as a crow, wavy down to her hips. Her skin was alabaster, her lips rosy red. I know now that it’s all because of witchcraft, but she could have had any man she wanted. But it turned out we both wanted the same man.”

Sam came into the kitchen then, sweat dripping down onto his workout clothes. Heading for the sink, he poured a glass of water before turning his attention to you. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Y/N’s just telling me about her life,” Dean explained as he stood up to clear off the table. “Care to listen in?”

“If she doesn’t mind.” Glancing at you, he waited for your nod of approval before sitting down beside his brother.

“As I was saying, Adelia was a horrible person. Flirting with any man she could. Taking them from other women was her favorite thing to do. Seduce them, and then leave. We were both stage dancers during the 20’s. There was this man, Alex, who came into our club every night. Rich, cultured, extremely handsome. She immediately set her sight on him, but he wasn’t interested. He began courting me. Sending me flowers, taking me out on extravagant dinners. He was charming, and kind, and I could have seen myself settling down with him. And it infuriated Adelia.”

Taking another sip, you continued your story. “Then one night I thought he was going to propose. He had promised to come by the club, with promises of taking me out afterwards. I couldn’t help but gush about it, excited beyond belief. But when Adelia heard, she became livid. Yelling, throwing things. Everyone was scared of her. Then she came to me after the show, with a little leather satchel in her hand.”

The brother’s shared a knowing glance. “I take it you’ve seen one of those before.”

Dean scowled, his hand tightening on his coffee cup. “Plenty of times. I hate witches.”

You frowned, confused slightly. “But you had Rowena here. She’s a witch.”

“She’s different,” Sam insisted. “Back to your story.”

Sighing, you could remember so much about that fateful night. The feeling of the buttery soft leather in your hand. Her perfume that overwhelmed you with lilies and sandalwood. The crispness of the air as you stood outside, waiting for Alex to arrive. But before he could, the moon rose in the sky and everything started to change. I went through the worst pain I had ever felt. My skin ripped and shredded as it turned into one of the deadliest and disgusting creatures ever created. I ran away after that, knowing that no one could help me. I came upon a man, you know him as Alistair. He promised to help, and well...we both know that wasn’t the truth.’ You ended your story, sighing sadly.

“Damn,” Dean whispered. “Sam, you should call Rowena, see if she knows anything about this Adelia.”

“Why? Y/N’s human again.”

Dean smacked his brother’s shoulder. “Because we need to know everything we can. If she’s still alive and she finds out about Y/N? We could have even more trouble on our hands.”

“I don’t want to bring you trouble,” you stared at Dean sadly, knowing that you didn’t want to leave him, but would gladly if it meant keeping him safe. “I can go.”

“Hell no!” Dean’s answer was quick. “You heading out on your own? You need to stay here, with us, where it’s safe.”

“Is that the only reason?” Sam remarked quietly before standing up. “Y/N, I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. But please know you are welcome to stay with us as long as you’d like.”

With those words, Sam let you alone with Dean, who was looking at you with an expression you weren’t sure you understood. “Now what?” You asked, trying not to sound as awkward as you felt.

“Now that you’re human again, why don’t we do something fun? Sam will do his usual research, leaving us some free time. What is something you’ve wanted to do, but couldn’t?”

“A movie theater,” you answered immediately. “I’ve wanted to go to a movie, and eat popcorn.”

Dean stood up. “Then it’s a date. You pick the movie, I’ll buy the popcorn. As long as we can get Hot Tamales too.”

“Hot tamales?” You repeated, wondering what on Earth they could be.

Read Part 11

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @bi-danvers0 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537 @deansgirl215 @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @screechingartisancashbailiff @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987

The Depth of Ebony Tags: @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @voltage-my2dlove @idksupernatural @deanfanatic @kalesrebellion @doctorlilo @brilovesdeanwinchester @parinarain @aiofheavenandhell

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algudaodoce03 @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498 @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @tatted-trina6 @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99blog @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93 @nanie5 @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek @thewinchesterchronicles @valsworldofcreativity @vvinch3st3r @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen

#the depth of ebony #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #reader insert #dean x y/n

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azraqnar · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Young blood Old souls. (SPOILER WARNING (Duh))

Ok I would say its a decently satisfying ending to season 1

To start off

- there’s gonna be more theories on who wrote the Unauthorized history books of the boiling isles. The authors name is scratched out so looks like we’re gonna have a gravity falls style mystery about the author. (I think it’s Azura/Camilia before she escaped to the human realm)

- I loved the cape Eda made for Luz and that little note she left behind was so adorable. She really did care about Luz like any proud parent would.

- So we know Wild witches get a “witch trial” style execution called “petrification” where they turn into a statue. Burning at the stake would be more fitting but after Hunchback of Norte dame Disney can’t let that style of execution take place so I guess they had to go with something less traumatizing.

- While I do enjoy the sisterly moments between Eda & Lilith, when they stuck their tongue out, it felt odd. I know sisters always make fun of each other & I’m like that with my sisters but the seriousness in the episode just didn’t match with the silly tone.

- As usual, we all saw this coming, Belos lied. Of course he did. I guess he knew he couldn’t control Eda even if he healed her so killing her was the best choice but I don’t think lying to her guilt tripped sister was the best call. Like my dude you just lost a loyal follower. If you want to keep your army strong then don’t lie to them. Honesty is key as we always say.

- Speaking of keys, Belos needs the portal to the human realm. But what would he want with that world? He said he isn’t looking to invade it. So it’s not that he wants something there, he might be looking for someone. Like idk someone important who escaped to the human realm. Cough cough Azura!

- Now I’m curious to how Eda got the key. It’s safe to say it was a gift from someone (cough cough Azura!)

- I like how we’re seeing an angrier side to Luz. Her boiling hatred of Lilith shown throughout of episodes brings out more layers to Luz. We always see the happy and pure side of her so it’s breath of fresh air to see a sad side like last episode & in this case an angry side.

- I admit I laughed when Luz and king stepped on grass when the sign said “do not step on the grass”. Like it was warranted to get sent to the conformatorian (idk how to spell it). Jaywalking must be a federal offense then.

- Nice to see the Warden again even tho he didn’t have much of a role.

- The moments between Luz and Eda were sweet. I love how they consider each other family & Eda wanted to send Luz back to the human world to protect her. It was sweet, she knew it was the end & she didn’t want Luz to suffer. Eda also giving Luz the key could be a parallel to whoever gave Eda the key (COUGH COUGH Azura/Camilia)

- The fight between Luz and Lilith was fine. Lilith clearly wasn’t interested in it but it was nice to see Luz take out her anger. I held my breath when they crossed into the human realm. Idk why but I thought they would be trapped there or something would happen to witches who crossed.

- Ok, now for what people were curious about. Lilith. I get they tried to make us sympathize with her and she sounded guilty when explaining what happened. So apparently Lilith and Eda both wanted to join the emperors coven but there was one spot left so they had to duel. Lilith became a sore loser and didn’t want to lose to her younger sister so she decided to get a curse that would take away her magic for the day. Or so she thought. (Like cmon Lilith didn’t the scroll tell you exactly what it would do, like where did you miss “turn witches into monsters forever”?) the day comes and Eda forfeits cuz she doesn’t want to fight her sister and then turns into a monster. They tried to justify it but it just doesn’t sit well with me. You still cursed your sister. That’s wrong even if it was gonna take her magic away for a day. Poor Eda tho.

- One thing I did see was I think we got a glimpse at Amity’s mom. In the background you see a green haired witch with the SAME HAIRSTYLE as Amity’s mom. Literally looks like Amity, I think we also saw a brown haired boy next to her (which could be Mr. Blight) watching the duel. The witch had a “mean girl” look to her so I can say I do think that was Amity’s mom in the background. I’m excited to see her next season.

- So Luz goes back with Lilith and King to save Eda. Belos discovers Lilith betrayal and send her to get executed with Eda. I really liked the fight with Luz & Belos. Luz was throwing all she got at him and he was just amused by the whole thing until she got a hit on him and chipped his mask. He only wants the portal and we still don’t know why (tho I will post a theory later). Luz eventually gives up and hands him the door in exchange of letting her save Eda. I’m intrigued he didn’t double cross her or try to kill her when she blew up the door. He seemed annoyed by it but stayed calmed. That was interesting. He seems to be playing along and staying composed. I really want to know more about him.

- So while the petrification is going on. Willow and Gus take control of the news and demands they let Eda go. The crowd cheers on & demands it with her. You’d figure for sheep it would take more convincing than that to turn against your emperors wishes. But whatever.

- So Eda. Luz, Lilith and King escape and fly away.

- Belos tells the crowd that he spared Eda cuz the Titan told him to (& totally not cause he lost) & of course the crowd believes him, so they’re back to being sheep.

- One thing that I’m so glad they did was Lilith got her Karma. She shared her curse with Eda. She’s sharing in the pain she caused and she’s facing the consequences for her actions. Get that? CONSEQUENCES! She gets a taste of her own medicine and now she is cursed. It doesn’t make up for the years of pain she caused Eda but at least she’s sharing in the pain & getting punished for what she did. She owned up to it! She did more than just say sorry so I’m happy for that. I personally don’t think she deserves a redemption but if they continue to show Lilith trying to make up for what she caused Eda then it would make it more believable but time will tell

-To think an episode ago she was so remorseless and took advantage of her sisters weakness. Tried to kill Luz & was just being so horrible. Now it’s a 180. I hope they don’t make it seem like she’s redeemed. I hope they do at least acknowledge her trying to kill Luz (who is a child). I hope they can do that next season cuz now the stakes are high.

- It looks like Eda & Lilith lost some of their magic & Luz will teach them her style. I can see this exploring many things so I’m excited. The one silver eye thing was nice too, physical scars are always cool.

- Is Luz going back to Hexside? She’s a wanted criminal too so shouldn’t they be on the run? I guess Belos has more to worry about than a human. She can’t even go back to the human world cuz it’s gone. Ooo this is opening the door ( pun indeeded) to many possibilities.

Now she has the portal to worry about. Belos is trying to repair It so there’s something really important on the other side. OR SOMEONE (COUGH COUGH AZURA/CAMILIA)

- I’m gonna post a theory on it later

- Overall it was a satisfying conclusion for season 1, I did expect more but it’s a season finale not a series finale. Can’t wait for season 2!

- 8/10

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #lumity #owl house #edalyn clawthorne #toh spoilers #king the owl house #lilith clawthorne #willow park #gus owl house #emperor belos #TOH #the owl house spoilers #eda clawthorne #eda the owl house #the owl lady #Young blood old souls

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youngclaire · 3 years

Text

One Last Final Goodbye

I rewrote sending Claire back through the stones at the end of book 2 but from Jamie's POV. I thought it would be a nice way to ease myself into writing these two. This is very book compliant, I actually bad the book open next to me whilst I wrote this in order to translate it from Claire's POV to Jamie's and it was a lot of fun. It's not a copy of the fuller chapter, it's been shortened down in places but the essence is there. I've also removed bits and pieces. Uhh yeah...all dialogue in this belongs to Diana and the book I'm just responsible for remixing the words. Anyway, I hope whoever bothers to read this likes it :)

(This is also my first fic in this fandom with these two so don't expect it to be perfect, it probably isn't)

- - -

He wouldn’t stop for anything; not food, water, or rest. He keeps the horse at a constant gallop at all times, scared that if he paused or hesitated for even a moment he would lose all courage and go neither back or forward.

I shall see my wife safe, is a mantra that keeps him riding. If he is to die tonight or on the battlefield tomorrow, he would not take her down with him; not her or the innocent being she carries inside her.

The stones come into view just above him. A cursed salvation of granite and Jamie tries not to see them, his gaze fixated forward. Behind him, Claire lets her displeasure be known, protesting against the idea. Jamie steels himself against them, clenches his jaw and gallops harder, fighting the urge to give in. This was the only way to see her safe and unharmed, he tells himself.

She protests still, even while he urges her up to the ruined cottage. She doesn’t realise he has no intention of parting with her right now, he just wants time to breathe, to think, to let the panic and worry abate. He sinks to the ground, his body cold and his mind racing.

“It’s alright,” he thinks he hear himself say. “We have a bit of time now; no one will find us here.” He shivers, though from the cold, and wraps his plaid around him.

God, he could still see it; Dougal’s lifeless eyes, the blood pooling out of him, the shock on Willie Coulter’s face. How long before everyone knew? How long before everyone found out he had committed familicide?

Jamie’s head falls forward onto his knees, a tiredness washing over him, fatigue clutching at his bones and eyelids. Tired as he was he could not sleep for fear of the images in his mind’s eye.

His breath comes out in ragged pants and he can barely stand the sound of it. He feels Claire’s warmth and presence beside him, uses it as something to anchor himself to.

What happened in that room and who knows wasn’t the priority, while Claire had yet to explicitly say so Jamie’s fate waited for him on Culloden Moor. Tomorrow he will die and all this will cease to matter. Claire will be safe.

His breathing eases back into its natural rhythm, the panic wilting away from the edges. He’ll take hold of Death’s hand, gladly accept his destiny knowing he did one thing right at last.

“I won’t go, Jamie,” she says, as if she’s read his thoughts. “I’m staying with you.”

Jamie shakes his head. She couldn’t persuade him, he couldn’t change his mind. He needed to do this.

“No,” he says. The firmness bites at him, makes him wince. He hopes she can hear the gentleness that lies beneath it. “I must go back, Claire.”

“You can’t,” she cries. “Jamie, they will have found Dougal by now! Willie Coulter will have told someone.”

Aye, that was a fact he had resigned himself to, a fact she must resign herself too as well. He grieved for Dougal, for the second father he had, but Jamie had done what he’d done- he would take whatever consequence waited for him behind that door. She talks of fleeing to France but it’s no use, he’s chosen his fate, set his heart and mind to it, accepted it. A traitor twice over, a rebel, a murderer…The English will hunt Prince Charles. The English and the clans will hunt Jamie. He was dead either way.

“Claire, I am a dead man.”

He watches the tears freeze on her cheeks. “No,” she says but the effect is lost, she knows he speaks the truth.

“I wouldna get very far anyway.” On its own accord, his hand runs through his red hair that makes him a beacon at all times. Not exactly inconspicuous. “I can save you, Claire,” With his other hand he brushes away the tears that continue to fall. “and I will. That is the most important thing.”

Then he will go back. If he finds he cannot do it for himself then he will find it in him to do so for his men.

“I think I can get them away,” he says thinking the plan through. “Even if it’s known what I’ve done, none will stop me wi’ the English in sight and the battle about to begin.” The plan visualises in his mind and he nods to himself. “I will bring them safely away and set them on the road toward Lallybroch.”

“And then?”

Well…wasn’t that obvious?

“And then I will turn back to Culloden.”

He lets out a breath, strong and final as his decision. He catches Claire’s worried look and gives her a smile.

“I’m no afraid to die, Sassenach,” he says, but then he thinks of that door, black and foreboding, the unknown behind it. “Well…not a lot, anyway.”

He hears a sound a human being should never be able to make as arms fling around him. He finds himself surrounded by Claire, caught in her tight embrace as the scent of her overwhelms him. He clutches her back, trying with all his might not to succumb and cry.

“It’s all right, Sassenach,” he says into her hair as she cries once more. “A musket ball. Maybe a blade. It will be over quickly.” A lie, they both know it, but Jamie will them both to believe it. He’s seen men die in battle, knows how horrifically slow it can be but it was better than waiting for the hangman’s noose, that would be the one thing that does not lie behind that door.

“I’m going with you.”

Lost in thought he barely registers it but when he does he reels at the notion, startling backwards.

“The hell you are!” He has a plan, damnit, and not even Claire will deter him from it.

She displays her argument but he will not listen to it, will not give it thought.

“No!” he says. “No, Claire!”

How could she suggest such a thing, knowing what they both knew? How could she be so selfish?

“If you’re not afraid, I’m not either. It will…be over quickly. You said so.”

You said so. What he said was a lie, did she not see that? A lie to comfort them both.

“Jamie- I won’t…I can’t…I bloody won’t live without you, that’s all!”

He had a thousand things to say and none at all. His mouth opens and closes before he shakes his head. Through the gaps in the ceiling he can see daylight dwindling, night approaching. The sky is painted red. Blood of a battlefield, blood of childbirth.

He reaches toward her, pulling her close. He knows where this fight comes from, if the tables were turned he would say the same thing, knows because he feels it too.

“D’ye think I don’t know?” His voice is soft, a whisper. “It’s me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you- then I am asking you to tear your heart out and live without it.”

She lets out a whimper, clutching him closer. He fingers stroke her hair, whispering soft coos towards her.

“But you must do it,” he finally says, feeling his stomach twist and turn. “Ye must.”

“Why?” She is angry, considerably so. Confused and hurting. “When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir- you said then you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me had it come to that!”

He had said all that, and to this day, it remains true. He’d have rather died than to be parted with her.

“Aye, I would,” he says. “But I wasna carrying your child.”

The reason he is allowing them to part.

She is surprised, shocked, frozen in place as she looks up at him in bewilderment.

“You can’t tell,” she says at last, shaking her head. “It’s much too early.”

It makes him smile, brings amusement to him.

“You havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first book me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.”

She hurls insults at him, shocked he even managed to keep track of such a thing during a war but he had for hope they would have a second chance at raising a child and for fear that it would end like this.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she tells him, rattling off reasons for why she might not have bled. It’s no use, she forgets he’s seen her so before, studied all the tell-tale signs of her body changing, committed them to memory.

“Claire…” His voice is quiet, not sounding like him. “Tomorrow I will die. This child…is all that will be left of me- ever.” He reaches for her hands, needing some part of her to hold. He casts his gaze to their joined hands, running his thumb over her fingers. “Claire, I beg you, see it safe.”

He keeps his eyes downcast while he waits for her answer, scared she’ll say yes, scared she’ll say no. The silence feels long and he shuts his eyes against the twisting of his stomach.

Finally her answer comes.

“Yes.” A whisper in the darkening cottage. “Yes. I’ll go.”

He nods, swallowing back the lump in his throat, hearing the sound of a flower stem snap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

After telling her to sleep, she doesn’t sleep himself. Time seemed wasted on that and they didn’t have much of it left anymore. In a few hours he will take her to the fairy hill and part with her forever.

He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. To brandish his sword and yell and scream and cry but he knew there was no point to it. He knew that what he had been handed was more than fair, that not many men live the life he’s led and are allowed to be rewarded in such a way.

Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, he had said to her, quoting what he would say to God when he met him. God! I loved her well. He had, he could really say that. He took this woman, in all her unbated strangeness, into his broken hands and within her found company and peace, a place to call home.

She loved me well, too, he adds, watching her sleep for the last time. Content and safe, here in his arms and their fortress of cloth. He had healed him with her touch and love and perseverance. Picked a broken man off the floor and carried him through towards the light at the end of the tunnel no matter the setbacks. She really was a rare woman, his sassenach.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, murmurs a quick thank you in Gaelic to God and to the fairies for dropping her into his life.

Pressed against her, safe in their fortress of clothes, her skin warming his bones, his eyelids grow heavy and he succumbs to sleep as the first inklings of tomorrow break across the sky.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was gone.

Disappeared in the same manner in which she had appeared. Gone through the stones and back to Frank.

Jamie presses his hand against the stone. The hard granite presses back on his wound, her mark, the letter C, reminding him it was real, she was real.

Her arisaid lies on the grass, forgotten in their haste to love each other one last time. Jamie picks it up, bringing it to his nose, inhaling her scent still lingering on the tartan. Tears fall on their own accord as he prays she made it back, prays that she and the bairn are safe.

A cannon in the distance booms, startling the birds and startling him. It’s beginning.

He is hesitant to move, to leave the place of their last coupling, his last connections to her.

Yet destiny waits for him on Culloden Moor, along with his men. He pictures the thirty men waiting for their laird.

There is nothing he can do for Claire now but there is something he can do for his men.

He kisses the inside of his fingers, presses it to the stone and bids his soulmate one last final goodbye.

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fic #jamie x claire #jamie's pov #standing stones scene rewrite #i tried ok #and i am scared #im gonna go hide in a hole now #bye

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queertwilight · 3 years

Text

LETS BE HUMAN FOR A DAY

Pairing: Edward x Bella (others will appear as the story progresses and no not all are canon)

And yes the person you think is a witch is a witch in this

This was in my drafts, idk if I’ll continue I guess it depends on if it’s any good?

Part One: Eyes

“Green,” he says out of nowhere and Bella tilts her head slightly even though she’s lying on her bed and he can’t see her from this angle. They are currently lying on opposite sides of her bed with their heads close together, so she knows he can feel her head move in a silent question. “My eyes were green, when I was human.”

“Green,” she murmurs testing how it sounds in her mouth. She’s too close to his face to look him in the eye, but from her angle she can see half of his iris and imagines it turning green. “What kind?”

He makes a small noise of confusion, almost like a humph, and she smiles knowing he’s annoyed at not knowing her question. He says it’s her mind’s brilliance that makes him so curious to hear her thoughts but she’s rather grateful he can’t. He didn’t need to know the amount of days she has spent drawing golden irises in the margins of her math homework. He’d think she was insane. “Bella?”

“What do you mean, what kind of green?”

His voice brings her back and she blinks rapidly to try and distract from the heat she feels climbing her neck to color her face red. “What kind of green?” She replies, knowing if she answers fast enough he’ll forget to tease her about her blush. And it works like a charm, he furrows his eyebrows as he peers sideways at her. She wants to reach out and smooth the skin there. Revel in how soft and smooth something so cold can be, in how his eyebrow muscles relax automatically at her touch.

“Yeah,” she whispers in reply. Their voices are softer now, as they tend to get when discussing his human days. Days she can never be a part of, days she wishes she could grasp from his mind to brush away the hurt that comes into his velvet voice when he remembers his mother. If she could soothe his pain how she soothes his furrowed brow, she would without a second thought. “Moss green? Jade green? Grass green? Blue green?”

“Ah,” Edward sighs as he understands at last where her mind had drifted to. “I don’t remember mine very well but I remember everyone comparing them to my mother’s. Carlisle says they were emerald.”

Of course, Bella thinks, they had to be as brilliant as a gemstone. Even human, Edward was beautiful and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for accidentally making him remember his mother. “They must have been beautiful, though I must admit I’m quite fond of golden myself.”

His quiet musical laughter shakes her bed, and her heart leaps at the joy she hears in it. That is until she realizes something, “Are you- I mean will you? Be fond of them too?” She stutters out the half question before realizing she could’ve just ruined the whole day. He didn’t particularly like remembering her decision to join him in becoming a vampire, and though they were better about communicating she still felt uneasy in mentioning it. The last time she had mentioned her transformation they had sat down and discussed how he would miss her heartbeat. It had been a moment of clarity for her, to realize that he loved her so much her heartbeat had become his personal version of a lullaby.

“What are you referring to?” His voice questions to her breaking her from her memories. Bella purses her lips, wondering if she should ask a different question, but the quirk in his eyebrow lets her know he can tell she’s plotting an escape. Even as she feels the apprehension rising in her stomach, she can’t help but smile slightly at how well they know each other.

“When,” she looks away and up towards the ceiling, “you change me. I know you’ll miss my eye color, you’ve said as much before. But will you learn to love my new eye color? Even before they turn gold, when they are still red? Or - I mean you don’t have to and please be honest don’t edit your answer to spare my feelings. I understand if you can’t - I know it will be a drastic change and I won’t force you to I mean we can completely ignore this in fact -“

“Bella,” his voice is firm but calm. She pauses in her rambling to see that he’s sitting against her pillows now with an easy crooked smile on his face. It makes her heart leap into her mouth and she swallows to try and get ahold of herself. It wasn’t fair how his smile still held the power to take her breath away or make her heart soar. His smile was home in its crookedness but just because it was home didn’t mean it wasn’t without its surprises. Sometimes she caught him smiling at her crookedly from the corner of her eye and the simple fact he looked at her like that without her always being aware of it caused her immense heart palpitations.

“Yeah?” Her voice wavers slightly but it’s not in fear of his anger. No, she knows him better now than to think he’s angry, besides his voice isn’t harsh or cutting when he says her name. Almost as if just the idea of saying her name in bitterness or reproach would burn his tongue, her name remains soft and warm in his mouth. His eyes aren’t clouded with anger or pain, they glisten in the late afternoon light with the curiousity she has often seen when he tries to disentangle her actions.

“Come here, love,” he says as he opens his arms to her, and she goes willingly. Settling at his side, curled so her legs rest on top of his, she sighs as he presses a gentle kiss to her hairline. “I think,” he begins as he sighs, “I may have inadvertently caused you some insecurity.”

“How?” She doesn’t glance up, instead she grasps his hand that lies on his stomach and begins to play with his fingers. Their coldness helping to ease her growing embarrassment. Bella knew she had insecurities, Edward knew she had them, hell most of the town new everyone else’s insecurities. Yet there is a difference between knowing someone’s insecurities and having them spelled out for you, especially by your lover. Edward sighs above her making her hair move and sending a small shiver down her spine. He chuckles as he hears her heart leap, her face reddens as she realizes she can’t blame the reaction on his coldness - not when it’s ninety-nine degrees outside and the humidity in her room is stifling.

“You seem to be under the impression I love your eyes more than you,” his voice is light but marred with a hint of worry. Of angering her? She doesn’t know, but she just continues to trace the outline of his fingers. “Bella, I love your eyes because they are yours. I’d love them if they were blue, green, grey, yellow,” he laughs a little before gently moving so that their fingers intertwine, “or red. I’m sorry I made you believe your eye color was more important than keeping you forever. Because it’s not Bella, your eyes aren’t what I care about keeping, it’s you.”

She closes her eyes against the onslaught of tears she feels collecting, her nose burning and itching as she fights to keep herself from whimpering. She didn’t know why she felt such relief, she knew Edward loved her and though he was difficult about the transformation she knew he wanted her forever. Yet here she was about to start blubbering because he had just eased a guilt she had unknowingly been carrying around in her chest for a while. The fear of taking away one more thing he loved. She bit her lip as she eased her breaths.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured “it’s silly to be crying I know. But I guess we’re alike that way, you want to give me things and I want to do the same for you. Changing my eye color...it’s so permanent - yes,” she says rolling her eyes as she peers up at him through blurry vision, “so is becoming a vampire but that’s different. I’ll still look like me just...more durable. I can’t make my eyes brown again. It’s just nice to know that even if they won’t be brown, you’ll love them.”

Edward barks out a laugh and she can’t help but feel thoroughly thrown off. Had she said something funny? “No you didn’t love. I’m sorry I’m not laughing at you.” Oh, she had spoken her question out loud, well that saved her having to figure it out on her own. She tilted her head so she could watch his laugh shake his body for a moment longer before he smiled down at her.

“Care to explain what was so funny?” Her eyes were almost completely dry but her nose still burned and her voice wobbled a bit.

“I feel like a right idiot,” he responds as he lets another small laugh take over, “no wonder you haven’t said yes to marrying me! I’m here whining about taking your soul and you’re guilt ridden over harming me with your transformation. Goodness, Alice was right we really should communicate about things more openly. I could’ve saved you so much heartache if I said I love you with and for everything you are,” he grows silent for a moment before adding, “and will be.”

Bella smiles. It’s the first time she has seen him smile at the mention of her impending vampirism and hearing his confirmation makes her shoulders drop as he continues, “how is it we’ve confessed our love for each other so many times yet forgotten the basics of ensuring we help each other through our insecurities? For the love of all that is holy, maybe Rosalie should have given me therapy sessions.” He sighs as he squeezes her hand, “maybe then I could be more forward in showing you that I am excited in having you forever by my side. Maybe if I were human I could feel secure in me being what you want.”

Edward’s smile was only a soft curve of his lips and Bella couldn’t help but feel the honesty of his words. And then it hit her - “That’s your insecurity? That you think you’re not ... enough?” Her eyes searched his, and for once she saw passed the walls he kept up and down into the worry that lined his eyes, the insecurities that made his brow furrow, the way fear locked his jaw in place.

“I wish we were on level ground, Bella. I don’t want you to have to adjust things for me or to be with me. I just want us to be Edward and Bella. You constantly compare yourself to how I look and it kills me to see how dejected you look. To know I’ve praised your human qualities so much you aren’t aware of how much I esteem your humor, your sarcasm, your wit, your inquisitiveness, your compassion, and your love. I’d give anything for you to see that even human me with terrible coordination, probably bad eyesight, and no social skills would want to marry you because I’m that sure I’d want you till my heart stops beating. Perhaps if I were human, you’d realize you’re my dream, too. That I’d change everything if it meant you not having to change for me. That I don’t want you to one day look back on this and hate me for not giving you all you deserve. I want to be enough for you for eternity.”

Her heart had never felt more love, as she stared up in realization that he was every inch the insecure teenager that she was. Her who constantly felt the need to try and appear like she belonged at his side was suddenly realizing he was trying just as hard to appear that he belonged with her. It made her throat tighten at the epiphany that this was what kept them from forever: themselves. He needed to know she would choose him regardless of what universe they met in, no matter in what life they had been born into, in what circumstance. She needed to know he loved her for her not just her human qualities like her heartbeat or blush but her personhood. And she knew just the way to do it. “Would you like to try?”

“Try?” His eyebrows rose in question as Bella’s smile morphed into its widest and giddiest form. He could practically feel her muscles tightening with the sudden spark of an idea her eyes held. He traced her features quickly, this, he thought silently, this is what she could give him forever - her smiles, her expressions, her radiance.

“To be human,” she replied as she scrambled to get off the bed. She began zipping around the room as he lay in the same position they had just been in curled up on his side slightly peering down at where she had lain. “For a day,” she turned after a few minutes, “be human with me. Then you can see I’m happily in love with you no matter what you are or who you are. Let me help ease your fears too. Please?” She walks to his side of the bed and holds out her hand for him to grasp, “Let me show you that you are enough.”

Bella swears the fireworks in her stomach erupted into masses of butterflies as Edward took her hand in his. “How?”

Bella smiles as Edward’s brow pinches in confusion as she proudly states her answer: “Angela.”

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #twilight renaissance #effervescent #twilight revival #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #edbella #Edward x Bella #Bella x edward #bellward #twilight fanfic #angela Weber #idk what I’m doing I just got so bored guys #this was in my drafts??? will I continue it?? idk #angela webber #new moon #eclipse

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Demon Shopkeep

You stumble into a magic shop and find the friendly shopkeeper wants to test your magical ability! What happens when you find out you’ve got quite a lot of potential?

M demon X GN human, 4,579 words

Shopping in town was something you really only did on special occasions. You’d never been super enthusiastic about crowds. They were always noisy and they made you feel like something was crawling along your skin when you tried to move through them. But your best friend’s birthday was coming up and you wanted to get her a neat gift. So, you went into the shopping district in town.

Your work schedule was flexible, so you went into town on a Monday afternoon, when the crowd would be at its thinnest. But it was a warm summer day, and you hadn’t factored in tourist season. There were plenty of people moving through the street, chattering and pointing to some of the shops. It was nearly impossible to walk down the street without bumping or brushing against someone.

You managed to walk through the street for about ten minutes before the awful feeling of pressure pushed in around you. The people around you felt like a rising tide, like they were coming in closer and tighter all around you. If you didn’t get out, they were all going to crush you.

Panic surged through you. Blindly, you scrambled to a shop door and yanked it open.

A small bell jingled as you stepped inside. The shop was dimly lit. Even the sunlight filtering in through the showy front window seemed unable to brighten anything. The walls were painted a dark blue and there were shelves of curiosities on dark mahogany shelves. Little golden lights glittered along the ceiling and clumped around a counter. Leaning over the counter, looking perfectly at home, was a dark blue demon.

You were pretty sure he was a demon, anyway. His skin and hair were the same tone of blue, but the nubby horns that sprouted from his forehead were bone-white. His tail was long and thin and tufted at the end. As he looked up, a chunk of his shaggy hair fell over one of his silver eyes.

“Hello!” he said. He smiled, showing off all his sharp teeth. “Welcome to Astral Curiosities! What can I help you with?”

You threw a glance over your shoulder. The crowd was still present and you didn’t feel ready to go back out into it. You turned back to the demon. “Sorry. I just ducked in here for a moment. I wasn’t really looking for anything.”

That didn’t seem to deter the demon whatsoever. If anything, his smile got bigger. “Really? You’re a first-time customer, then?” He clasped his hands together in excitement. “Then let me show you around and introduce you to the store!”

He stepped out from behind the counter. He was wearing a button-up white shirt with a blue star design on the pocket. “My name’s Imp. It’s nice to meet you!” He stuck out a hand and, uncertain of what else to do, you shook it. “Welcome to Astral Curiosities! Oh, I said that already, didn’t I? Ah, well! Let me explain the store to you.”

He gestured broadly with one hand to the shelves. “All of these,” he began, “are tools for witches! We’ve got books, focuses, familiar summons, spell supplies, runic tomes, magic languages, anything you could need!”

There was a soft click as he moved across the hardwood floor and you realized he wasn’t wearing any shoes. His claws tapped against the ground every time he set a foot down. “We’ve got all sorts of items for specializations! Life magic, nature magic, aether, fortune telling, spirit magic!” He pulled a few items from the shelves and looked at them fondly. “What’s your specialization?”

You mouthed wordlessly for a moment. He was so enthusiastic, you felt a little sheepish trying to say a word against him. “I didn’t come in here for anything. I don’t even have any magic. I was just trying to get out of the way of the crowd.”

Imp turned to you. His pointed ears drooped back a little and, for a moment, you thought you’d finally managed to dampen his spirits. Then his tail whipped with excitement and he grinned. “Everything happens for a reason!” he said. “If you’re here, there’s almost certainly something that drew you in.”

The crowd, you thought. The crowd had driven you inside. But Imp was already moving toward the back and you had to admit that you were curious. He darted through a set of velvet curtains and emerged with a large, pale stone surrounded with wires.

He went to the large, wooden table in the middle of the room and sat down. You glanced back at the door, but decided you’d rather see what he wanted than go back into the crowd. Imp almost wriggled in excitement as you sat down across from him.

“This is a vocal stone,” he said, tapping it with a clawed finger. It was large, slightly bigger than your palm, and, though you’d thought it was white from a distance, it was actually multicolored. There were ribbons of every color of the rainbow shot through it, only appearing when it was set in the right light. “And these-” He gestured to the wires around it. “- are conductors. If you have any magic, this’ll spark it and we’ll see what kind it is.”

You looked skeptically at the stone. The whole contraption seemed pretty haphazard. Still, you were pretty sure you had no magical talent. Neither of your parents had any skill and you’d never had the typical magic hiccups that accompanied growing up as a magic kid. So you allowed Imp to take your hand and wrap the wires around it.

“Oh.” You gripped the side of the table. A rush of something moved through you, like there was something swooping under your skin. Your head spun and a wave of tingling spread over your skin. You felt something in you shift, almost like what your stomach did before throwing up. A wave of power rushed out of you, knocking Imp back out of his chair and sending the wooden shelves rattling.

You snatched your hand back. The odd sensation stopped, though your head was swimming a little. “Are you all right?” you managed, peering over the table at Imp.

He popped up so suddenly and with such force that he nearly cracked your foreheads together. “Goodness, you have one hell of a voice!” he said, apparently completely unperturbed by being bowled over.

“A voice?” you asked. He hopped back into his chair and gathered the vocal stone back toward him.

“Mm. It’s what a person’s specific magic is referred to as. Your voice. And you’re loud. One hell of a scream, really!” You blinked at him, a little confused. “Who told you you didn’t have any magic? You have a lot.”

You worked your mouth, eyes wide. “I didn’t… I don’t know. No one ever really told me. My parents didn’t have any and I never did any tricks as a kid. We just all assumed that I didn’t have any magic.”

Imp pursed his lips and looked down at the stone. “Hm. That’s unusual.” He lifted the stone and rotated it in his hands. The multicolored threads through it had changed, all becoming a uniform shade of light green. “Life magic, and very strong, too.” He looked across the table at you, expression changing from excessively enthusiastic to gently sympathetic. “You don’t like crowds, do you? Or zoos, or anything with a lot of living things? But I expect forests are nice for you.”

You blinked at him, a little startled that he managed to correctly call all that. “Well, yeah. I live in a forest, actually.”

“Plants are much less demanding with their presence than people or animals. Most life witches find themselves as loners with very impressive gardens.” His ears twitched rapidly as he looked at you. “I expect you’ve actually been choking it back for most of your life. It’s probably a good thing you came in here when you did. Can’t hold all that magic back forever and when it does come out, it can get messy.” He wrinkled his nose. “But you’ll be all right! Promise. I can be a good mentor. I mean, technically I’m into spirit magic, but they’re close! You’ll be able to get something out of it!”

He moved so quickly between thoughts that he was really starting to lose you. “What are you talking about?”

He’d sprung out of his chair, but, hearing the worry in your tone, he swung back around to look at you. “I’m going to mentor you,” he said. “In magic, obviously.”

You stood up. “I don’t need a magic mentor. I’m okay. I’ve gone this long without one. I’ll be fine to keep going.” You scrambled back out of your chair and started to back toward the door.

“Wait!” Imp sprang forward and grabbed your sleeve. “You can’t leave! I mean, I understand if you maybe don’t want me, but you’re going to have to get someone. You’re a powerful witch, even if you don’t know it, and if you’re not doing any tricks, that magic doesn’t have an outlet. It can’t go on just building up forever. You don’t need to do magic, but you at least need to find a way to let it out sometimes or everything will get worse.”

Carefully, you extracted your arm from his grip. “What do you mean?”

Imp stood still, except for his tail, which whipped wildly. “Well, you already don’t like crowds, right? People? It’s the magic, you feel it coming off all the people and pressing on you. Right now it’s just uncomfortable, but eventually it’ll get to be too much and that extra jolt of magic will just-” He made a hand gesture that seemed to indicate something exploding. “And the magic will be uncontrolled, so no one will be able to predict what will happen.” His voice started to rise again and he lowered it with obvious effort. “It’s not safe, really.”

You grimaced and lowered your head. “You’re willing to teach me?” Imp nodded rapidly. “All right.”

“Great!” He gave a tiny, enthusiastic hop. “That’s good. Um.” He glanced around the shop, pointed ears flattening back. “Do you mind if we do it at your house? It might get to be a little much and I don’t want to destroy the shop.”

“Fine,” you said. It meant you at least wouldn’t have to go back through the town. You scrawled your address on the piece of paper he offered, along with your phone number, and handed it over.

“Great! I’ll gather the supplies and be over tomorrow.” He glanced around the shop. “I’ve never mentored anyone before! I mean, I know how. I do, I swear! Anyway, I’ll see you later. Head back home and get some rest. It’ll be a lot of work.”

Not terribly reassured by that, you left the shop and returned to your home. It was secluded in the woods, with no neighbors but the trees. Technically, you still had some freelance writing to do, but you spent most of the rest of the night straightening up. You hadn’t had guests in forever and your house wasn’t exactly in a state for entertaining.

You jerked awake the next morning to the sound of very enthusiastic knocking. Bleary, you staggered out of bed and headed over to the door.

It was Imp. He was clinging to a bag that was bulging with books and strange implements. He was bounding on his toes, looking irritatingly cheerful considering that the sun had only just risen.

“Hello! I thought we’d get started nice and early. Make the most of the day and all!” He trotted past you into the house and dumped the bag onto the table. “Okay! Ready to start?”

You looked down at the books that had fallen onto the table. Several of them were rather childish, with thick pages designed for young hands. There were also several instruments with gemstones attached. They looked a little like measuring tools, though you weren’t sure what they were intending to measure. Magic potential, maybe?

“Sorry about the books! Most people learn when they’re young, so…” He shrugged. “But I’ll teach you most of the stuff! The books are just for later reference.”

He settled into a chair, tail whipping eagerly behind him. “How are you feeling? Had breakfast?”

You fixed him with an irritated stare. “I just got up.”

He blinked at you for a moment, then seemed to realize exactly how ruffled you looked. “Oh! I’m sorry! I have to get up early to work at the shop and all that so I usually assume everyone’s an early riser too.” He shuffled in his pocket for a moment and pulled out a phone. “I’ll order us some breakfast. Anything you want? The café in town delivers! And they’re very nice!”

“They have French toast?” you asked. He nodded. “I’ll have that, then.”

Imp took a few minutes to put in your order and you excused yourself to shower and get dressed. When you returned to him, he had organized everything on the table and was peering in your cabinets.

“You don’t have a lot of food,” he said. “You should take better care of yourself! Do you just live off ramen?”

“A freelance writer doesn’t make a lot of money,” you said. “I have a garden I get vegetables from sometimes.”

“Well, that’s good,” Imp said. There was a knock at your front door and he sprang off. You followed him just in time to see him fling it open.

The delivery man was a cervitaur. He had a runner’s build and a his front hooves tapped constantly at the ground. The bag of food was slung over his back, like saddlebags. Imp greeted him like they were old friends and took the bag. “Never delivered here before,” the cervitaur said with a polite nod to you. “Had a good night, Imp?”

His meaning hit you a moment later and you felt yourself flushing. Imp just laughed. “We’re doing magic training! You might be delivering here more often if we keep the tutoring up.” The cervitaur nodded to you with a cheeky smile, then took off, vanishing within a few moments.

“Sorry! He’s a bit nosy. Always likes to get into other people’s business. Especially romantic. Ignore him.” Imp spread the food over the table and you ate. You had to admit, the food was really good.

“Let’s get on with the magic,” he said after you cleaned up. “For our first lesson, we should probably just focus on getting you used to feeling the magic.” He extended his hands out toward you, palms up. “Hold your hands out like this.”

You mimicked his position. He picked up one of the measuring tools and tapped it against your fingers. After a moment of analysis, he lowered it. “You’ve got a lot of powerful magic. And because it’s life magic, I can be your test subject!”

You frowned. “Is that a good idea? I could have hurt you last time.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No, no, it’ll be fine. I promise! We’ll start slow. You can read my mind or something!”

“I can do that?” you said.

“Well, you can get a sense of what people are thinking, feel their life energy and all that. That’s why you don’t like crowds! It’s all the energy pushing in on you. It’s uncomfortable, I bet. But once we start doing these exercises, you’ll feel a lot better! Promise!”

He offered you a green stone, probably jade, set in an intricate web of golden wires. “Hold onto that. It’s a focus stone, it’ll help you feel the magic.”

You took it from him tentatively. Almost immediately, you could feel something. A buzz of energy around you that you often associated with being deep in a crowd ran through you. “You feel it now, don’t you?” Imp said. “Focus on it. There should be a feeling of energy. Try to gather it around you and use it.”

It was difficult to gather something as intangible as energy, but after a few moments of focus, you could feel the energy shifting. It gathered into a sort of clump in front of you, energy you could project however you wanted.

Focusing the energy seemed to have the same effect as swiping away a thick bank of fog. Without the smothering blanket in front of you, there were points of energy prodding into your mind, each one subtly unique. You could feel each individual plant outside, and little tiny specks of energy you thought, a little uncomfortably, might be bugs.

But the biggest source of energy was right in front of you. Imp glowed like a miniature sun, which felt fitting given his personality. Surprised by the brightness and warmth, you focused in on it.

Images and sounds flowed from him, like looking into a rolling, constant river. Thoughts twisted and branched off each other in a confusing tangle. You fumbled to catch a proper train of thought, until you noticed your face.

Hurriedly, you caught onto it. Imp was thinking about your face. Not just your face. He was thinking about you. And then his thoughts wandered, transitioning from just looking at your face to thinking about you smiling at him. Emotions swelled under the thoughts, a feeling of attraction. A feeling of attraction toward you.

Startled, your focus broke and you felt the magic slip away. Almost immediately, dizziness swarmed through you and you leaned over the table. Imp patted your shoulder and you made an attempt to hide in your arms. Reading someone’s thoughts while they were thinking about you was weird, weirder than you thought it would be. How were you supposed to focus when you knew your teacher thought you were pretty?

“You did good!” Imp praised. “Really good! Not everyone can access their magic like that on the first shot. And reading minds is good for your first go!”

Your head popped up and you stared at him. “You knew I was reading your mind?”

He laughed. “You’re not very subtle! But I don’t know what you were looking at. People’s minds are very complicated, we think about a lot of things at once. And I’ve been told my mind’s got more on it than most!”

You frowned at him, trying to figure out if he was only trying to spare the embarrassment, but he looked utterly guileless. “Uh. I didn’t catch much.”

“That’s okay! It was your first time! It’s pretty impressive that you managed to catch my mind at all.” He tapped his fingers energetically on the table. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.” You leaned back in your seat. “But better?” There had been a tightness inside you that you hadn’t even realized was there until it released.

“You look better! You were all kind of drawn in before.” He hunched over, holding his hands close to his chest. “Now you look relaxed. And your spirit’s all…” He made a wavy motion with his hands.

“My… spirit?”

Imp nodded. “I’m a spirit mage. It’s actually life mage adjacent, but like… more specific? I sense auras, basically! And I can sense spirits, so I’m sort of like a medium! You’re much more in tune with life energy, the magic that comes off of living things. You can draw energy, donate energy, heal small injuries, that sort of thing. I’m better at spiritual aspects, especially healing curses! I actually freelance as a cursebreaker.”

“A cursebreaker?” you repeated. “That sounds dangerous.”

“It’s not! Well, it is a little. But spirit mages are resistant to curses. And I see auras, remember? I usually have a little heads up if someone wants to hurt me.”

“What does my aura look like?” you asked, curiosity spurring you on before you could stop yourself.

Imp leaned over the table toward you. His eyes were dark and glimmering, like polished onyx. “The whole colored aura thing is bullshit. It’s more like… A halo? Like, light or waves around you. Yours is very bright, but very constricted. The light doesn’t travel very far and… auras have this kind of wave to them, and yours was very still before. It waves a little more now, but it’s still very constrained.” He grinned. “It’s very nice to look at. Like an ocean wave under moonlight.”

It was an oddly poetic description, not one you had been expecting from him. You felt your face warm, and you were grateful that Imp no longer seemed to be paying attention. “Now that you’ve actually accessed your magic, we can do some exercises to improve your skills with it. They’re pretty simple, all just breathing and flexing your magic muscles. They’re kind of like push ups!”

“I don’t like pushups,” you muttered. Imp burst into laughter.

“This is easier. Promise! What you want to do first is take a deep breath and close your eyes…”

The exercises took only about an hour, but you felt like you’d run a marathon by the time it was over. Your muscles felt trembly and weak. “You did really well,” Imp praised. “I’ll be back tomorrow. In the meantime, rest up. And read a few of the books! They’ll help. Even if they’re for kids.”

He left and you promptly collapsed into bed. As tired as you were, there was a lightness to you that hadn’t been there before. It was like you’d just had a really good massage.

You skimmed through a couple of the books he’d brought by later. They were childish, but they taught some simple magic techniques. You sat in the garden until late at night, practicing on your flowers over and over.

Imp came back to your house the next morning, and the next after that, and the next after that. He never seemed to lose his enthusiasm, even bright and early. It was nice to have another person over. You’d avoided people for so long, you’d almost forgotten what having company felt like.

Every night, after he’d left, you went out into your garden and practiced on your flower bushes. It was a simple practice, but you were hoping it was impressive. Maybe it would be.

About a week after you’d started practicing, Imp seemed satisfied. “I’ve given you as much of a crash course as I can. All that will prevent you from getting overwhelmed with magic and you have at least a few spells you can do.”

Your stomach tightened a little with disappointment. Despite the short time you’d known each other, you had gotten sort of attached to him. He was sweet and enthusiastic and you found yourself looking forward to his arrival every morning. “Thank you for all your help. I know it was probably a lot for you to do every day,” you said.

“Don’t even mention it!” Imp waved a hand nonchalantly at you. “Magic users have a responsibility to help each other out. And you really needed help.” He clapped a hand casually over yours. There was a slight tingle of magic and you had to carefully avoid peeking into his mind. He had a tendency to project and it was a little difficult to stop from hearing him. “If you ever need anything else, you know where I am.”

He trotted off and you returned to your garden. The flowers you’d been working on for the week were nearly complete. You prodded at the petals, infusing them with a little more energy. They perked up under your touch. It was a small gift, not one you felt truly exemplified the depths of your gratitude toward him, but it was something. Satisfied with it, you went back inside.

The next morning, you gathered up the flowers into a pot. It was much easier to do it with the life magic to guide your hands. You could tell exactly where the root networks were, and how the plant was responding to the touch. Carefully, you potted it and picked it up.

Going into town would have been a nightmare a week ago. It still wasn’t fun. As the amount of people started to increase, you could feel your shoulders tensing and your breaths coming in shorter. But the feeling of pressure around you was much less. You didn’t have the automatic urge to turn and run back home.

You opened the door to the shop and stepped inside. The bell at the door rang and Imp looked up, ears twitching. His face broke into a wide smile when he saw you standing there.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon! Everything okay? Did something happen?” He trotted across the shop toward you, and you shifted the plant behind your back.

“I wanted to thank you,” you said. “For all that you did for me. You didn’t have to.”

“I couldn’t leave you hanging,” he said cheerily. “What are you hiding behind your back?”

He tried to move to peer behind you, but you carefully sidestepped out of his way and backed up to the checkout counter. “It’s something I thought you would appreciate,” you said, setting it down while still blocking it with your body. “It’s something I tried to do with my magic. It worked better than I thought it would.”

“I did say you were strong,” Imp said, trying to peer over your shoulder. “Show me!”

You stepped aside, revealing the flowers. Manipulating colors was apparently a simple form of life magic, when done on plants, at least. Keeping something small was much more difficult than creating something large, but you’ were pretty happy with what you’d managed. The plant was a perfect miniature rose bush, with tiny roses blooming in the deep blue of Imp’s skin and hair.

His mouth popped open and he gave a squeal of delight. He sprang forward, examining it with a childlike glee. You couldn’t help a small laugh. “Oh, they’re beautiful! And you made these? Well, you helped them along, anyway. I love them! They’re so wonderful! It’s very skilled for your first project! Oh, imagine if you made more of them! Mini flowers! It would be soooo cute!” His tail waved with excitement. “Thank you!”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“I love them!” Imp’s smile faded a little. “Oh, but I’m not very good at caring for flowers. I don’t know much about them.” A worried look crossed his face. “What if I kill them?”

“If you’re going to help me with magic, then maybe I can help you with flowers,” you offered. “I’ll show you how to repot it and care for it and all that.”

“You can come over to my place this time!” Imp said, cheering up immediately. He scooped the flower pot up into a hug.

“I’d like to see your place,” you said. Imp skipped in place, grinning broadly.

“It’s a date!” he said, then he hesitated. He glanced at the roses and when he looked back at you, you could see and sense the hope and fear warring in him. “Is that all right?”

You gave a small smile. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Imp lifted his brows. “Are you saying yes?”

“Yes.”

Imp’s face broke into a relieved smile. “Then yes!”

You gave him a smile back. “I’m looking forward to it.” And through your magic, you could feel that he was looking forward to it too.

#exophilia #demon #demon boyfriend #demon lover #monster lover #monster boyfriend #male monster #OC

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writingbakery · 4 years

Text

“what’s new, pussycat?”

this work is my absolute pride & joy, one that i hold very near & dear to my heart! it was previously written for a different fandom, & ive reworked it to fit here. i hope you love it as much as i do, & yes - there will be more parts to this story! ✨taglist; @katsukisprincess @secondhand-trash @redbeanteax @monst @shinhoetoshi @shinsouzone @togasknifes

[pairing; panther familiar! hitoshi shinso x green witch gn! reader]

[warnings; fluff, meet-cutes, magical au, bitchy witches, soft words, strangers to lovers]

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

for a green witch in a relatively small town, you’ve got a pretty good life.

you’re not the most powerful witch around; your talents are more centered around healing, crafting potions & spells, but you don’t mind. you like helping people, whisking away their problems & leaving them happier than when they walked into your little shop.

your shop is perfectly situated right at the forest line at the end of town, making it easy for you to restock your supply. you don’t get many customers, but you treat everyone like they’re most important, focusing on what they need & providing them with just what they’ve asked for. you don’t have many friends, most of the other witches not thinking much of your talents or your profession - they were all more modern witches, using electricity & technology to help others - but the ones you do have treat you nothing but kindly.

you’ve got everything you need in your little shop; a tiny apartment just above it, a loyal customer base, & the forest to soothe your worries.

the only thing you don’t have is a familiar.

you turned twenty six months ago, the age at which every witch receives their familiar. sometimes, it happens sooner, sometimes it takes a little longer. you’re just a hint impatient.

you’ve been ready for your familiar since your powers emerged at six years old, little flowers & vines bursting from chubby fingers & small palms. your friends even had a betting pool set up, sero swearing that you would get a kitty cat, & kirishima insisting it would be a rabbit.

you don’t care what your familiar is. you just want to meet them.

you’ve nagged your mother more than enough over the years, whining & complaining at your lack of a companion - both the animal aspect of them, & the human. familiars often became their witches’ best friends, & on most occasions, have fallen in love with them.

it’s a romantic concept, really. two magical beings, tied together forever by their shared powers, falling in love.

you’ve had dreams about it. kaminari makes fun of you for it whenever he can.

still, you don’t need to fall in love with your familiar. you love them already for supporting & adding to your magic, even if you haven’t met yet. you just know you’re going to be the best of friends.

you also side with sero. you’re definitely hoping for a kitty.

you alway tell your friends you don’t mind being patient, but secretly, you wish your familiar would speed things up a bit.

the other witches in town don’t tease you outright, a bit more poised than that, but you’ve heard more than enough whispered giggles of “bet it’s a fly, & it just can’t find them” & “maybe [y/n]’s just too weak for one”. you know they consider you a joke, a laughingstock, but you do your best to ignore them, burying your head in your spellbooks & inventing new potion strains.

you’re good at what you do, & that’s all that matters. but with a familiar, at least you’d fit in. you’re not expecting anything huge, not like the wolf inasa got, or the pheonix momo was gifted. you just want something that’ll care for you, help with your little tasks & fill the hole in your heart.

you even have a little side room set up in your shop for them, complete with a small fluffy bed & lots of pillows. kaminari had wrinkled his nose at the setup. “what if they don’t like all the fluff?” he’d asked - his familiar, an overexcited ring tailed lemur named mina, had absolutely destroyed the setup kaminari made for her, choosing to snuggle the taller witch in her human form every night. you had a separate betting pool with kirishima & bakugou about when those two would finally start dating.

mostly, you just hope your familiar won’t be disappointed with you. you aren’t the fastest on a broomstick, or the smartest with spells. your potions are good, but they take you a while to brew, & you don’t get that many customers. you’re definitely not the best witch in town, but you try your best, & you hope that counts for something.

it ends up counting for a lot, even if you don’t realize.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you’re looking through your little vials & plants one day, crafting a rejuvenation potion for mrs. parks - she’s got a garden to maintain if she wants to win first place in the landscaping competition next week, & at 85 it doesn’t always come naturally - when you realize you’re clean out of starflower. the pretty little orange & yellow foliage always added an extra boost to your energy potions, & you chance a glance out of your shop windows. it’s a nice day, sunny but not too hot, & you easily tug on your jacket & basket to gather some from the forest.

the air is warm, floaty with the smell of spring & you bask in the pleasant heat of the sun as you walk. the forest is unusually quiet, a sort of energetic thrum hovering just under the surface & normally, you would be concerned. but the day is so lovely, the warmth seeping into your bones & you brush it off as a slight imbalance in the woods.

you find the right clearing relatively quickly, sitting cross legged amidst the flowers & beginning to pluck them. you coo to the brightly colored petals gently, asking them to feel safe, protected. you wouldn’t hurt them, nor waste them unnecessarily. they were headed to a good purpose, & you reassure them as such as they make their way into your basket.

the already quiet air stills suddenly, birds silent in the trees & leaves pausing their ruffling. you shut your eyes & soaks up the sudden silence, an odd sense of calm settling over your body before you open them again.

a pair of amethyst violet eyes stare back at you, barely ten feet away from your face.

you open your mouth to scream, but let out nothing but air; your breath seems caught in your throat, lodged painfully deep. the creature in front of you is still, black fur gleaming glossy in the afternoon sun - a panther, twice the size of any normal big cat, sharp fangs glinting in its large mouth. you just stare, frozen & wide eyed.

the panther tilts its head at you inquisitively, letting out a sharp exhale through its velvety - almost cute? - black nose. you do scream this time, a barely there squeak that youd defend to your dying day as a very aggressive yell.

& then you pass clean out, slumping to the cool forest floor.

above you, the panther simply snorts, rolling bright purple eyes in mild annoyance as it curls its lithe form around your unconscious body, settling in for a nap.

it protects you from harm, patiently waiting for you to wake up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you wake up confused & a little dizzy.

you’ve only been out about an hour, but already the sun sits lower in the sky, a chill sweeping through the quiet wood. you’re disoriented, taking a few moments to remember where you are, & why. youre warm despite the cool forest air, body swathed in silky softness. you burrow deeper into the warmth, sighing softly as you toe the line between sleep & awake.

then you remember the panther.

shooting straight up from the dirt, you look around wildly, all traces of sleepiness gone as you take in your surroundings.

the panther lays curled around you like a warm blanket, keeping you tucked up against its shoulder with massive black paws crossed in front of your legs. it’s fast asleep, not even stirring as you shift a little to study its face.

gold runes run from the tips of each large, silky ear, trailing down either side of its face to its long whiskers. each rune matches one on your own arms, elegantly winding down your smooth skin. a little flutter settles in your chest.

this is your familiar.

you run one slim finger down the sides of the panther’s sleeping face, gentle & light as you trace over the marks that mirror the ones you’ve had since birth. it’s a little nerve wracking, a little unreal.

you’re so awestruck you don’t feel a pair of sharp violet eyes tracking your every move, looking just a little fond.

you start a little when the panther stretches, long heavy limbs arcing out into the air as it yawns. you get a good eyeful of sharp, gleaming white fangs & an impossibly cute pink tongue before the panther is staring at you again, seemingly waiting for your next move.

oh right.

hastily clambering to your feet, you stand in front of the lying animal, just about level with its head. you swallow a little nervously, shifting from foot to foot as you look up into bright, curious eyes.

“a-are you my familiar?” you ask, immediately cursing yourself for stammering & asking stupid questions. you’re supposed to have your shit together, you’re the witch here.

the panther seems unfazed, if not a little amused, as it nods once, then twice, eyes twinkling in the sunlight. your own eye twitches.

you’ve got a familiar. a panther familiar. you, [y/n l/n], who can’t fly a broomstick straight & nearly burnt down your shop crafting a potion last week.

suddenly everything seems a whole lot less simple than it was before.

bracing your hands against your knees to catch your breath, you let your mind go wild, running through a million thoughts at once. what would the other witches say? what would your friends say? how the fuck was this panther going to fit inside your house?

you don’t have a single answer for any of them that won’t send you into a panic.

your stomach ends up deciding for you, the low rumble of it breaking the tense silence. the panther actually does roll its eyes at you this time, standing to its full - very, very tall height & moving to kneel at your side. it motions towards its back a little impatiently, & you scramble to climb on.

you can feel lean, powerful muscle underneath you as the panther begins to walk through the forest, quickly shifting through the underbrush towards town.

it’s much quicker than you walking on your own, & you appreciate that.

you know you’re going to get plenty of stares once you hit town, & you’ve already got a plan set: make it through quickly, avoid questions, & once you’ve got the both of you locked up in your shop, the panther can shift to its human form & introduce themselves. simple.

the second you step foot - & paw - into the town, you know you’re screwed.

all of the townsfolk are staring wide eyed, giving the pair of you a very wide berth as the panther trots along the street. hushed whispers are already circulating, & you can feel endless sets of eyes digging into your back.

just a couple more feet, a few more moments. then we’ll be safe, you think as your shop comes into view, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. you slide down off the panthers back to unlock the door & usher it in, locking it behind you both with another relieved sigh. you relax too soon.

there, in your kitchen, sit sero & kirishima, both gaping as they stare at the massive panther in your foyer. sero’s got a teapot in one hand, the other cupping the air - a shattered mug at his feet.

“we came for tea,” kirishima squeaks. sero is dumbfounded where he stands. the panther huffs unamused, tail flicking & breaking one of the china plates along the wall.

you sink to the floor in despair.

what the fuck, is all you can think, burying your head in your hands.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

your friends take it all in surprisingly well. sero sweeps up the shattered mug & dish, kirishima makes them all tea, & you have a mild panic attack.

the panther simply curls up in a corner of the shop, avoiding everything delicate as it takes up a good chunk of the space. kirishima can’t stop staring at it, eyes blown wide as he takes in every inch of the creature.

“it’s really yours? your familiar?” he’d asked, voice hushed. you swatted at his arm with a scowl, glancing over at the uninterested panther. “stop talking about it like it’s not here! you know it can hear you.”

truthfully, however, you don’t even think the panther is listening. it has an air of disinterest clouded around it, lazily examining its paws & twitching its whiskers every so often.

sero maintains that he won the bet, much to your chagrin. “it’s just a really big cat!” he insists. kirishima simply rolls his eyes & tells him to take it up with bakugou.

it takes an hour or two, but eventually you manage to shoo your friends out of your shop, a headache building at their incessant questioning - “so what's its name? boy or girl? did it try to eat you? why is it looking at me like that?” - & all you want to do is sleep.

you lead the panther to the small side room you’d dolled up, albeit for a much smaller animal, wincing at the judgemental look you receive in return. “right, that won’t work. i mean, you could stay in my bed? it’s really big, just a bunch of cushions & blankets on a floor mattress?” you offer, twisting your fingers in your shirt a little shyly. the panther pauses, then nods again, squeezing its massive frame through the narrow staircase to follow you upstairs.

your bed - a custom made mattress that spanned nearly across the entirety of your bedroom floor - seemed to accommodate the panther just fine, and it paced around once, twice, before settling in one corner of it. its lithe form took up a good two thirds of the mess of blankets, & you can’t help but coo at the sight. it really was just a big kitty cat, although you’d probably never say it to the creature’s face.

you busy yourself with getting ready for bed, washing your face, brushing your teeth & changing into your baggy blue silk pajamas - they’ve got little yellow crescent moons sewn into them, & you swear the panther laughs at you in them - before settling between the sheets.

“goodnight, mr. panther,” you mumble sleepily, silently hoping that things would be easier to fix in the morning before drifting off to dreams.

above you, the panther huffs a little fondly, nuzzling your soft little cheek before falling asleep as well.

—

the next few days aren’t any easier.

for one, you’re swamped with customers for the first time ever, people crowding into the tiny shop to catch a glimpse of the enormous panther curled up in the corner. normally you wouldn’t allow it, but the panther doesn’t seem to mind, & everyone who walks in leaves with something - you’re making a killing.

another little problem: the arrival of your - rather powerful - familiar means your own abilities have gotten a much needed boost. everything you make is soaked in energy, & your plants are shooting towards the ceiling every other hour.

in short, you’re probably the most powerful nature witch in the country, let alone the county.

you appreciate the fact that you’re better at what you do, but it tires you out quicker, & you’re twice as busy now that you can do so much.

all of this would be reasonably manageable, if your familiar wasn’t still stuck in its animal form.

the panther’s refused to shift for the entirety of the time you’ve known it, staying in its animal form in the corner of the shop. it simply watches & observes, occasionally nudging the right vial or plant closer to you with its large black nose. it’s a cute sight, the little nature witch bustling around the shop in your emerald green robes, a huge black panther tracking your every move with a fond expression. you’ve started to get comfortable around it as well, but you would like to get to know it eventually, & you enlist kirishima’s help.

the more experienced witch drops by with an old history book one afternoon when you aren’t as busy, the pair of you sitting at the table to read up on familiars.

“it says here familiars usually shift within the first day of meeting their witch,” kiri reads from the book, squinting at the tiny text. you had shooed the panther into the garden so you could talk uninterrupted, & you watch as the large creature nips at the butterflies circling its head. it makes you smile, heart a little fond at the sight.

“it’s been almost a week, kiri,” you pout, looking up at the witch in concern. maybe it's not comfortable with me yet, you add in your head. your stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought.

kirishima, seemingly sensing your worry, ruffles a hand through your hair, a reassuring smile on his face.

“don’t worry, [y/n]. i’m sure they’re still getting used to being here with you,” the taller comforts you. “just give it a little time.”

watching as your familiar tramples your hydrangeas, looking up at the window with a guilty expression on its face, you can only sigh.

“i hope you’re right.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

nearly two months later, you’re starting to doubt kirishima’s advice.

your familiar still hasn’t shifted in front of you, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion it does while you’re asleep, a smattering of all black clothes hidden in random corners of his shop.

you still know absolutely nothing about them, every question you throw at the panther met with unblinking silence. but the panther knows all about you.

it knows which tea you prefer in the morning & evening, nudging out the right canisters with one massive paw. it knows every plant in your shop & garden, delicately ripping out whichever ones you need with sharp fangs. it knows to growl when a potion is boiling over, or huff when a customer is at the door. it even ran off a few thieves a week ago, snarling with its hackles raised at the foot of the stairs as they screamed & ran. you had given it an hour long head massage, complete with ear scratches, as a thank you.

the panther has settled itself in your shop & your life almost perfectly, a constant presence that you’ve grown fond of. but it doesn’t change the fact that they still haven’t revealed themselves to you. you feel like this relationship is ridiculously imbalanced; the panther knows you inside & out. you don’t even know their name.

still, you push down any doubt or insecurities you’re feeling, determined to let the panther come to you in your own time.

the mayor’s birthday changes all of that.

the mayor always requests a grand celebration, complete with magical fireworks, charmed balloons, singing lilies, & a three tier magical cake. normally, he only requests singing lilies & roses from you.

this year, you get a golden invoice for everything.

the mayor wants you to craft the cake, enchant the balloons & streamers, gather the singing flowers, and charm the fireworks, all in less than two days. you immediately break into a sweat.

you can’t ask your friends for help, as they’re tied up in their own town’s festivities. your only choice is to get the other witches’ in town; surely they’d help with the mayor’s birthday celebration.

surely not. they laugh you away from their shops the moment you ask, a pleading expression on your face.

“you shouldn’t need help, little dirt witch. you’ve got that powerful familiar of yours, don’t you? unless you can’t handle it,” they mock you, & your fists clench unwillingly; you force yourself to breathe.

you don’t need their help, or their disdain. you’re going to do it all by yourself.

you start with the flowers, collecting the brightest & loudest singers from your garden & placing them in charmed rainwater to keep them pristine. the panther helps where it can, delicately holding them between its fangs.

enchanting the streamers & balloons takes the better part of the day, & you’re up late into the night crafting the fireworks the right way. you fall asleep in a spellbook, the cake left forgotten till the morning. the panther simply rests its head next to yours on the table, the pair of you fast asleep until the next day.

when you wake up, the birds are chirping steadily outside, sunlight filtering in through the windows. it’s calm & soothing, & for a moment you’re at peace.

then you see the time, panic immediately setting in.

“wake up! wake up! i have to have the cake ready in four hours! it’s going to take me three just to mix the batter!” you’re running around the shop in a flurry of robes & quick spells, arms full of supplies. the panther just watches from its position on the floor, eyebrow quirked.

you’re halfway through mixing the batter when you realize you won’t finish in time.

you can’t focus on charming all three tiers at once as he mixes, but if you do them one by one you won’t finish in time. you pause, turning desperate eyes onto the panther.

“i know you’re not ready, & i didn’t want to push, but please. i need your help,” you plead. hands clasped in front of you & flour in your hair. the panther continues to stare, unmoving, as though immune to your begging.

it’s too much all at once, stress & anxiety building until you snap.

“why not! why! i get it! i understand you’re disappointed! i’m not some high tech witch in a big city, i’m not powerful! i’m weak & i suck & i can’t brew potions fast without blowing them up & i fell off my broomstick in the garden & you saw, i know! i just need help, for god’s sake! just help me, & you don’t ever have to talk to me again!” you promise, eyes watery as you burst into tears.

dropping your head into your hands to muffle your sobs, you barely register the faint whirling of air in front of you.

hands suddenly flutter over your crying form, hovering just above touching you as a low, rough voice pulls you from your misery.

“please stop crying, shit, please, i’m sorry, i swear i didn’t mean to make you cry, fuck,” you hear, & you tilt your head up, rubbing tears from your eyes.

there’s a man standing in front of you, wearing all black. he’s got messy purple hair sticking up from all sides & dark eyes, a hint of violet flashing through them in the light. there’s circles as dark as his clothes under his eyes, a familiar look on his face - like you’d seen it every morning waking up.

this ridiculously handsome man, looking slightly panicked, is your familiar. every time you’d called him a “pretty kitty” suddenly flashes through your mind.

fuck.

pushing all those thoughts to the back of your mind, you straighten up, hastily wiping your eyes on your robe sleeves. “can you stir the second pot, please? i’ll worry about the other ones,” you ask meekly, a little embarrassed now. you ignore the familiar’s prying gaze, simply muttering spells under your breath as you stir the first mixture.

the pair of you don’t speak unless it’s instructions, racing around the tiny shop to craft the magical cake. flour & sugar & icing cover every available surface as you wave your hands, whisking it all over the towering cake. you struggle a little to reach the very top, on your tiptoes as you attempt to frost the highest tier. warm, strong hands grip your waist & lift you right off the ground, holding you up to help; you blush furiously as you quickly finish.

you’re just putting the final smattering of glitter onto the cake when the mayor’s party attendants arrive to collect it. you can finally breathe as you watch them carry off everything you both had made, shoulders sagging in relief.

your familiar leans against the counter, wiping down the tables with a rag as he watches you. now that everything’s been finished, there’s no avoiding it.

“i’m hitoshi. that’s my name,” the panther - hitoshi - offers, presumably sensing your nerves. “& for the record, i think you’re a great witch. youre powerful all on your own, even without me.”

you can’t help your smile at that, a little flush to your cheeks as you sit at the table. “then.. then why didn’t you shift?” you ask softly. up close, you can see tiny freckles in place of hitoshi’s whiskers, the glossiness of his hair reminiscent of his panther fur.

the familiar shrugs, cheeks going a bit pink themselves as he stares at the table. “at first, i was just a little shy. it’s nerve wracking, meeting your witch. & then you just… passed out, you know? i was worried about how you’d react, so i decided to give you time.” you can understand that, listening closely.

“you were so nice to me, you weren’t scared at all. you scratched behind my ears & made me cleansing potions. & you let me stay in your bed, so easily. you were just…. nicer than i expected. and…. and prettier.” the familiar’s cheeks are a rosy red now, bright in contrast to his soft skin & prominent dark circles. you think it’s adorable.

“i just didn’t want you to think any different of me, you know? you liked panther me a lot, even though i kept breaking stuff, &.... i wanted you to keep liking me.” you outright coo at that, ignoring your familiar’s protests as you dissolve into giggles.

“really? of course i’d still like you, silly! i let you cuddle me! i called you mr whiskers for a solid month! oh god, i called you mr whiskers,” you whine, pouting a little. you’d called hitoshi a bunch of silly nicknames before he’d shifted, from pretty kitty to mr whiskers to sugarpaws. you’d been trying to compensate, in your defense, & hitoshi had seemed to like them.

hitoshi’s the one laughing now, smile bright as he gives you that same fond look. “it was cute. you were trying really hard,” he admits, head cocked to the side as he watches you.

you sit in a comfortable sort of silence then, simply taking in each other’s presence a moment.

“so, you thought i was pretty, huh?” you tease, breaking the silence as you move to stand in front of hitoshi. you giggle more at the flush that follows, ignoring hitoshi’s mumbling rant about “soft little witches” & “green robes & moon pajamas, that's ridiculous”, your smile growing ever wider.

you tap a finger against hitoshi’s nose, the familiar protesting in flustered panic. standing on tiptoe, you press a light kiss to the cranberry stained cheek, watching hitoshi absolutely melt.

“i thought you were cute too, pretty kitty,” you smile, turning to tidy up the pots & spellbooks & leaving an awestruck hitoshi at the table, hand frozen where you had pressed your lips.

i could get used to that, you think, giggling as hitoshi trips over himself to squish you against the counter, covering your face in kisses.

just you, your shop, & one pretty kitty.

#bnha shinsou #bnha hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #shinso x reader #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #bnha fic #boku no hero fluff #bnha fluff #evywrites

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