#Now I just need to figure out how to make better headers and line breaks when I post to tumblr

[kaizoku-musume]

Flower Petals in the Water-Clavis x OC

It's been years since I've written anything that wasn't a poem, but @violettduchess's event got the creative juices flowing and gave me an opportunity to finally type out some of the ideas that have been percolating since I joined this fandom, so here we go. It's way too long because I am incapable of writing a short drabble to save my life, but I hope you like it anyway.

Event/prompt: One suitor, one promps ccc, Clavis, water

Word count: 7.1 k

Lisette was having a wonderful day so far: the breakfast Clavis made for her that morning had hints of recognizable flavors, he’d delivered her to the location of what was supposed to be an assassination attempt on Chevalier so she could get a light warm-up in, and now she was peacefully reading a new book he’d gifted her in the garden, void of the sounds of one of his traps setting off and causing mayhem in the distance (that one was a bit of a toss-up, as she usually quite enjoyed watching the destruction, but this was a pretty good book and it would be a shame to be drawn out of it so soon).

He was clearly buttering her up for something. Lisette couldn’t let her guard down around her partner on a regular day, but she had soon come to learn that there would be days she’d have to be extra cautious. The fun thing about Clavis was that Lisette could never be sure what he was planning. It could be anything from him setting up a day of elaborate traps solely for her to a spontaneous visit to another country. It was, thankfully, often more entertaining than it was frustrating.

Lisette waffled between deciding whether to try to figure out what was going on or just let things play out and go with the flow. It was against her nature to go into a situation unprepared when she could help it, but Clavis was always so happy when he could surprise her. And it wasn’t like he’d come up with anything that went too far or was more dangerous than she could handle yet. But he could just be lulling her into a false sense of security-any good tactician knows the best way to catch someone off guard is to have them underestimate you. And wouldn’t that be something: if Clavis one day set up a situation where Lisette actually struggled. Lisette doubted that, though. Clavis was too much of a gentleman, and as much as he loved to watch Lisette fight, he never wanted to put her in any real trouble.

With an internal shrug, Lisette carried on reading. If Clavis was planning something crazy, Cyran would have made some mention of it by now. Probably. Her fellow redhead, despite being well aware that Lisette could handle herself, commiserated with her about Clavis’ antics enough that he usually informed her when his plans tipped more on the “bad” side of the scale than the “good.” Besides, it had been a good week since Clavis had last pulled off something a bit more than his daily disturbances. Best to just let him get it out of his system. Lisette will most likely end up enjoying whatever he’s come up with anyway.

* * *

It turned out, Lisette had to wait until after dinner to find out what Clavis was up to. She was on her way back to her room, wondering if Clavis was doing this on purpose to make her think he was up to something when he actually wasn’t just to keep her on her toes (it’s what she would do in his position, just to mess with him), or if she should start considering the possibility that Clavis’ plan was some new idea he wanted to introduce in bed. She didn’t have to think about it for long, because Clavis sidled up to her in that ‘I’m up to something but I’m going to pass it off as normal’ way he had. Lisette was caught on the sway of his hips for a second-there was something about his natural fluidity that she found herself drawn to. Especially since he’d started using it to his advantage once he noticed the effect it had on her. Never did Lisette think every day actions like walking would strike her so, but-as always-Clavis proved to be the exception.

A little irritated at Clavis’ blatant display after making her wait this long to approach her, Lisette spoke up before he had the opportunity to. “So you’re ready to admit to whatever you’ve got cooking up?” she arched a brow.

Clavis merely grinned wider. A bit of a shame, really; Lisette missed the days early on when he would pout a bit at being called out like this. But Clavis had gotten over it and switched his mood around by proclaiming she must love him quite a bit if she could read his mind so easily. “Why, that sounds like an accusation. I don’t know what I could have possibly done to deserve it. I’ve been diligently working all day long, far too busy with boring paperwork to be up to be up to something. I say I deserve a nice, relaxing treat for all I’ve been put through.” Clavis wrapped his arm around Lisette’s waist, “And if I’m remembering correctly, you exerted yourself today as well. Taking care of three assassins? Surely that works up a sweat. I think the best remedy is a soothing bath together.”

Lisette studied Clavis, searching for any hints of a secret agenda. But there was nothing that she could see: no amusing curve to his lips (more than usual, at least), no gleam in his eyes that indicated he was using this as a ruse for something else less likely to win her over. For all intents and purposes, Clavis really was just inviting her to bathe together. “That’s it?” she blurted. Now it was Clavis’ turn to raise his eyebrows at her. “Don’t give me that look. You know how your ‘surprises’ usually go. I was expecting something elaborate that would give Sariel a heart attack, or something you’d have to talk me into.” Which was exaggerating things a bit. Lisette hardly had to be talked into going along with Clavis’ schemes-it was really more that she pretended to sometimes, like an extension of the play. Like she was demure Belle, too pure of heart to agree to throw glitter on the king.

Clavis’ smile wavered for just a second. His arm flinched barely perceptively, and his next step contained a brief falter, and there. There it was. He did expect to have to talk her into it. Or he was expecting her to be disappointed by how simple it was, or something. Somehow, he had built this up in his head to be more than it should be. Lisette couldn’t fathom why. She’d never given him any reason to believe she’d turn him down or fight back against some plot of his. She challenged him when he tested her, sure, but she’d always been careful to never look down on or make Clavis feel like his efforts were too silly or too much. She’s been open about the glee she takes when Clavis causes mayhem or introduces her to some new aspect of being in a relationship. It was something that must come from before they got together. Lisette was never sure where Clavis’ baggage came from-if it was solely from his childhood or if his past relationships had contributed. Either way, she was determined to continue to show Clavis that her love, once given, wasn’t something that she took away.

Clavis recovered instantaneously. Anyone other than Lisette probably wouldn’t have noticed his earlier behavior. “Oh my, I didn’t know you were so eager to spend time with me,” he said, “Have I been neglecting you too much today? I’ll have to devote the rest of the night to making sure you’re not lonely after my absence.”

There was almost no point in responding to Clavis seriously when he deflected like this. He would just bulldoze over it with exaggerated responses. No, no, it was way more fun to-

Lisette pinched Clavis’ side, right where he was ticklish. He jerked back with a yelp. She snickered. Clavis cleared his throat, looking flustered. How did Lisette end up with someone cute? That was supposed to be her sister’s thing, and yet here she was, dedicated to a ridiculous, adorable man.

Clavis pirouetted in place with a slick twist and began confidently walking backward, putting more emphasis on his movements than usual, and suddenly Lisette was thinking of adjectives other than cute. She almost forgot: her ridiculous, cute boyfriend was also mischievous. “So, shall we head to my bathroom?” Clavis said. Okay, an almost pointed lack of acknowledgement of what just happened. Probably for the best. If Clavis gave her an opening to make fun of him, he’d be all too eager to counter with her obsession with his hips. Sneaky bastard knew exactly what he was doing with that move. “Not that the guest rooms are lacking, but I’ve noticed a severe shortage of luxuries in your quarters, and I’m not letting you go another day without knowing how decadent baths can be.”

“How extravagant can washing up really be?” Lisette asked, partly out of honesty, partly to drive Clavis crazy. She lived for the reactions he gave every time she played up her ‘rough and tumble’ lifestyle and lack of knowledge on self-care and more than the basic amenities.

“Allow me to show you,” with a showy gesture for her to take his arm, they set off.

* * *

Clavis always has the perfect (often comedic) timing, and now is no different. The bath has reached its peak simmer by the time they arrive, there are flower petals (purple and red, the cheesy dork) floating on the surface, and there’s a cart to the left of the tub full of bottles Lisette can’t even guess at. What more does one need than soap and shampoo? She gets an answer when Clavis takes one of the bottles and upends it into the tub. A deep floral scent hits Lisette. It’s not roses, but beyond that, Lisette has no hope of identifying the flower used based on scent alone, but she has a suspicion. “Did you make any of these yourself?” she asked.

“Only this scented oil and one of the soaps,” Clavis confirmed. “I wanted to try my hand at the hair products, but you have to be extra careful with colored hair, and I wouldn’t want to test it out on you without being sure I could ensure it was safe and healthy to use. Next time, I’ll be able to make the full spread myself.” So the flower was definitely an lisianthus, then. Good thing she liked the scent, since she was certain to smell it much more in the future.

Clavis stepped toward Lisette and slipped his hands under her shirt at the waist. “May I?” he requested. Lisette raised her arms dutifully. Ridiculous of him to ask when he was already halfway taking it off anyway. His hands skimmed her sides as he lifted her shirt over her head, palms briefly cupping her braless breasts. Once her shirt was off, he got down on his knees in order to pull her pants and underwear off in one go, placing open-mouth kisses on her hip as he slowly nudged her bottoms off inch by inch.

“Tease,” Lisette complained breathily. It was unfair how good he looked down there.

“All a part of the process,” Clavis lightly nipped at her hip, “A very necessary step for relaxation. Don’t give me that look, Lisette, what would you know? I love you, dear, but you think a bed off the ground and a tablecloth for a blanket are the height of luxury.” Lisette tipped her head back and laughed. “See?” Clavis insisted, standing up, “You’re already feeling relaxed. Trust my expertise, Lis.”

“Okay, dork,” Lisette took her turn to remove his clothes, cutting off any protests he might have made with a look. Even after their discussion about reciprocity, Clavis still struggled to let Lisette do things like this for him sometimes. But she was going to get him comfortable with being desired and pampered if she had to beat him over the head with it. 

Clavis’ clothes were infinitely more complicated than hers, so she spent a good few moments simply unbuckling all his belts and undoing all his buttons while waving him off when he tried to help. She enjoyed taking her time unraveling Clavis of all his layers, and there was something enticing about the movements needed to unclasp all his accessories. It felt more intimate than just slipping his shirt off. Undoing Clavis’ cravat was probably her favourite part: her hands were so close to his neck, wrapping around the silk fabric as she removed it from him. She’d often tug on it a bit, just to see him forced to bow his head to accommodate it, and that was . . . well, it certainly woke up something in Lisette that she was half eager, half nervous to explore. For now, she held off, too distracted by the sight of Clavis’ neck as the rest of it was revealed. There was a fading hickey that was hidden by his collar, the last bastion of the previous time she worked on him, and Lisette resolved to amend that later. His neck had not gone unblemished since she gave him his first, and that streak was not going to be broken now.

Eventually, Lisette managed to get Clavis fully undressed, and she accepted his hand to pull her to her feet once his pants were at his ankles. Still holding hands, Clavis stepped into the tub first, guiding Lisette to follow and climb in front of him. As one, they sank into the water.

Lisette hummed, tipping her head back against Clavis’ shoulder. She was practically in his lap despite there being plenty of room on the other side of the tub, his legs stretched out on either side of her. It was a position more cramped than Lisette was used to having to deal with in a while, but she was comfortable nonetheless.

“Making those sounds before I even get my hands on you?” Clavis wrapped his arms around her lower torso, absent-mindedly tracing one of her scars.

“Nearly all your body is touching me, does that not count?” Lisette quipped. She rested her arms over Clavis’. Damn, this was a nice perk to being in a relationship. Best decision she’s ever made.

“Hmm, I suppose I can accept that. It just means you love all of me that much, doesn’t it?” Clavis preened. Lisette rolled her eyes even though Clavis couldn’t see. She knew he was aware of it anyway. The way Clavis squeezed her gently certainly seemed to indicate it. With a kiss to her cheek, Clavis reached toward the cart to grab an empty pitcher. He filled it with water from the tub and, after covering Lisette’s eyes, poured it over her hair. When her hair was wet enough, he reached for one of the jars.

“So how many smells are we introducing here?” Lisette joked when a different scent from the bath oil hit her nose. This one was citrusy? Mild enough to mix well with the floral scent, at least.

“Shush,” Clavis faux scolded, “I’m introducing you to something that will change your life. By the time we’re done, you’ll be twice as in love with me. I’ll have you saying ‘Clavis, you’re the best, I’ve never felt so good before!’”

“Oh, is that what I’m supposed to say? Because that sounds exactly like what you told me the first time you ate me out," Lisette said.

“Every experience with me is life changing, my prickly sourpuss,” Clavis tipped the liquid in the jar into his hand, put the jar back on the cart, and used his now free hand to scratch against Lisette’s stomach just to hear her giggle. Lisette wasn’t ticklish, but Clavis trying in vain to find her weak spot made her laugh anyway.

Clavis set to work lathering the shampoo into Lisette’s hair. She already missed not being able to lean against his shoulder, but the feeling of his hands massaging her scalp was a more than worthwhile trade. He took his time with it, despite her hair not reaching past her shoulders. “It’s taking your color out,” he noted, “even though this is supposed to be good for color-treated hair.”

“Certain ones will take the color out faster, yeah,” Lisette said. His hands must be catching the bright red. She kind of wanted to see it. “But a little bit comes out with every wash anyway. Still lasts for a good while, though. And I like it when my natural color pokes through, so I don’t always dye it back right away. It gives it a really cool effect. I chose a color that went really good with black because I thought I’d be lazier about it, but I’ve grown to really like the red.” Her brother did the same thing as her, occasionally letting his blond roots show among the pink, but her sister never let a hint of her natural color show and always made sure to maintain the purple..

“Ooh, I’d like to see that,” Clavis finally rinsed her hair out. Once her hair was free of shampoo, he took another jar with a different liquid and focused on sudsing it through the strands of her hair, avoiding her roots. “I bet it looks more threatening and that’s why you like it, isn’t it?”

Lisette just barely remembered not to tilt her head back to laugh, “Ha, it totally is!”

After methodically running the conditioner through her hair and rinsing it out, Clavis grabbed yet another bottle and started applying it to her skin. He started at her shoulders, massaging the oil into her skin. Lisette tipped her head forward and groaned. “That’s what I want to hear,” Clavis murmured. He dug into the knots in her neck, intent on drawing more noises from her. When her shoulders were free from residual signs of stress, he moved onto her back, urging her forward a bit. Clavis paid special attention to her spine, addressing any kinks or tension.

Satisfied with his work, Clavis swept his hands down her arms, rubbing at her joints and tendons before sliding into the space between her fingers, his own curling against her palm. Clavis used his grip on her hand to tug it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her scarred knuckles, soap and all. “Sap,” Lisette playfully grumbled.

“Happily so,” Clavis booped her nose before tapping her leg and then the edge of the tub. Confused, Lisette nonetheless dutifully propped her legs up. Weird that he would move onto there before getting to her chest. But here he was, dragging his hands up her legs, fingers pushing into her muscles as he rubbed the oil into her skin. His touches were more therapeutic than sensual-either he was holding back for the moment or this was a part of foreplay that Lisette was new to. He had to scooch forward to reach while she drew them closer to her, his chest plastered to her back, but he wasn’t taking advantage of the position. Lisette was starting to get really invested in just a simple massage by the time he moved onto her feet, knuckling her soles as best he could from the angle.

He used the pitcher to help wash her off, but instead of doing literally anything else Lisette was expecting (highest being touch her with intent), he grabbed another jar and started following the same path he just made. “Didn’t you already do this?” she said.

“What I just used was soap specifically designed to soothe sore muscles,” Clavis stroked her shoulders, “It does clean you as well, but it’s main purpose is medicinal. This is regular soap.”

“There’s more than one kind of soap?!” Lisette exclaimed.

Clavis froze for a second. “Lisette, darling, I adore you beyond measure. So please know that I say this with love: your standards are abysmal.”

“Are you saying multiple soaps aren’t just fancy royal shit?” she couldn’t help but egg him on. Didn’t mean it wasn’t an honest question.

“No, Lisette. You have to know that,” Clavis despaired, “Surely your brother has a regime similar to this.”

“He could, but I wouldn’t know,” Lisette shrugged, “It’s not like he would have brought it up with me.”

“Well, good thing you have me then, isn’t it?” Clavis grabbed her hand again and brought it to his lips.

“Stop being cute,” Lisette grumbled, but her tone was fond, fond, fond. Always fond, for her sappy, cute lover.

“And start being serious?” this time, Clavis brought his hands to her chest, “That can certainly be arranged.” He took his sweet time rubbing the regular, non-special soap onto her upper chest, but Lisette was too used to his teasing to even think of saying anything yet. She knew it wouldn’t do any good. Her determination wavered when Clavis raised a hand to her neck, gripping it gently and tipping her head back onto his shoulder so he could lean over and kiss her cheek. Lisette tried to tilt her head to the side for a proper kiss, but the faintest squeeze to her neck stopped her.

“Clavis,” Lisette sighed. Well, so much for that. She should have expected this; motherfucker knew all her weak points. With his free hand, Clavis palmed her left breast. He nibbled Lisette’s ear as he played with her breast: squeezing it, rubbing the oiled soap across it, flicking his thumb across her nipple. “Clavis,” Lisette repeated, breathier than before. It was interesting to feel herself get wet even though she was submerged in water.

Reluctantly, Clavis let go of her neck. Less reluctantly, it was to pay attention to her other breast. He tweaked and twisted her nipples, tugging on them every so often. He took a break to rub around her areolas before going back to pinching and pulling. “Mmmm,” Lisette moaned, pushing her breasts further into his touch and gripping his knees to ground herself. Just when she was starting to get really riled up, Clavis let go and reached for more soap, then started applying it to her sternum and stomach.

“Asshole,” Lisette groaned. Clavis merely chuckled and placatingly soothed her toned abs. His hands crept dangerously low on her hips, briefly running through her pubic hair and palming her mound, only to slide back up. “Fuckin’ tease,” Lisette accused, sounding more dismayed than angry. Suddenly, a luxurious bath was sounding less appealing than other activities they could be engaged in.

“So many compliments,” Clavis crooned, like the smug asshole he was. He went back to doting attention to her legs, bringing them together chest-to-back again as he leaned them forward in order to reach. Except this time, he also plastered kisses to the back of Lisette’s neck, and Lisette was more keenly aware of his hard cock nudging her rear. Now, suffering through Clavis lavishing her legs, Lisette was significantly more impatient for him to move on. The heat of his chest on her back felt like a brand and he was focusing more on her erogenous zones as he washed her legs, teasing her inner thighs; it took everything in her not to fidget, hoping to ease the ache inside her.

But finally, finally, Clavis was all done with her legs. And to Lisette’s relief, it seemed like Clavis viewed his previous actions as teasing enough, because he guided them into a reclining position as his right hand came to rest on her inner thigh while his left went back to her breast. Lisette fully relaxed against Clavis, keeping her legs up on the edge of the tub to keep herself easily spread open for his access. “Eager?” Clavis gloated.

“Hell yeah,” Lisette admitted, locking her hands together behind Clavis’ neck to give Clavis unobstructed access to her body and give her body a seductive arch, two things she knew would hit him hard. She could hear him swallow in arousal and smirked to herself. Submissive wasn’t normally an apt word to describe Lisette, but she’d been more than willing to let Clavis guide her how he wanted during sex and knew it always got to him when she willingly allowed herself to be restrained or follow his orders. Initiating intimacy was another thing that got to him-Lisette could imagine that it must be heady for Clavis to know that someone who once had no interest in sex was excited for it with him.

“Hahaha, my bad! If I had known you were so interested in taking things further, I would have done something sooner,” Clavis lied.

“No you wouldn’t,” Lisette said, “Even now, I hear talking but don’t see any doing.” She twirled her foot in the air in what she hoped was a goading gesture.

Clavis laughed, but at least he also started moving, so Lisette counted it as a double-win. With one finger, he circled her left areola as another traced around her labia. Lisette leaned her head back against Clavis’ shoulder and hummed. If the water was just a little bit hotter like when they first got in, this would be near perfect.

Thankfully, without any coaxing from Lisette, Clavis’ touches got more serious. He rubbed across her nipple and clit at the same time, drawing out a sigh from Lisette. His fingers mirrored each other: when one flicked up and down, so did the other. When one applied pressure, the other followed. The dual sensations had Lisette panting. Clavis brought more fingers into the mix as he rubbed and rolled her nubs. He pinched both, causing Lisette to gasp, but where he started twisting and tugging her nipple, he lept his movements over her clit firm but gentle kneading. “Mmm, Clavis,” Lisette groaned appreciatively.

“Good?” Clavis asked. Lisette nodded and pressed herself further into his touch in answer. She tilted her face into his neck as she focused on breathing evenly. It was ridiculous, how quickly she was being wound up. This wasn’t going to last long at all. Perhaps sensing that, Clavis sped up his movements. Lisette found herself even closer to the edge than she thought she was.

“Clavis-” she started, maybe to warn him, maybe to ask him to slow down or speed up, Lisette didn’t even know. But Clavis dug a fingernail into her nipple as he squeezed it and added just the right pressure when he passed over her clit, and all of a sudden Lisette was tensing as an orgasm rushed through her.

When she came down, panting and tingling with aftershocks, she realized that Clavis’ hands hadn’t moved at all. And when he sensed that she had recovered somewhat, the fingers on her clit slid past her folds to her entrance, pressing against her opening without dipping in. “Oooh, yes,” Lisette urged just in case he was asking for permission. 

“Insatiable, are we?” Clavis slipped two fingers into her at once, cutting off any remark she had been thinking of making. Lisette huffed at the sudden stretch, grateful that her orgasm had left her feeling loose without making her too sensitive. “I’m more than happy to oblige,” he began pumping them in and out of her at a steady pace, left hand splayed out almost possessively over her breast. Lisette made a small, surprised sound at the feeling of water slipping into her cunt while Clavis fingered her. “You know I love seeing you lose yourself to pleasure.” He plunged his fingers as deep as they could manage from the angle on each press in and dragged them against her walls on each pull out, spreading them apart near on every other pass.

Lisette gave up trying to keep her composure as Clavis’ fingers drove relentlessly inside her, occasionally squeezing the palmful of breast he held. It was a challenge just to keep her hands locked behind his head, she was clenching them so hard. Lisette buried her head further in Clavis’ neck, gulping down air as he scissored into her. To her relief, Clavis smoothly slid a third finger alongside the other two, stretching her out even further. Lisette was vaguely aware of the sounds she was making, focused more on the fact that Clavis was toying with her abused nipple again while his thumb occasionally brushed against her clit. Lisette’s hips rolled into the motion, trying to match his rhythm.

Clavis pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered, “Are you getting close?” Lisette, unable to verbally respond as her mouth was too busy letting out gasps and moans, nodded in answer. “Do you like it when I play with you like this?” Another nod. “Do you like it when I fill you up and soothe your aching cunt?”

“Clavis,” Lisette whined.

“Do you like it when your pussy no longer feels empty?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you like it when I make you come so hard you forget where you are?”

“Yesssss.”

His fingers were rapidly pumping now, the sound of them moving in and out muted by the water. The heel of his hand replaced his thumb, knocking against her clit with each thrust. His thumb and index finger were tugging relentlessly on her nipple. Lisette rocked desperately into his hands, chasing her next release. It was just out of reach but she could feel it simmering beneath the surface. She trusted Clavis to get her there. He just had to-there! He curled his fingers just right, brushing them against her g-spot on each pass. Lisette’s pleasure ratcheted up a million fold, and the orgasm that was nearby was suddenly right there. “Clavis, Clavis, don’t stop, don’t-” she begged before Clavis sealed her lips with his, snaking his tongue into her mouth to wrap around hers and suck as gave her nipple a vicious twist and  pressed and pressed and pressed directly on her sweet spot. Pleasure spiked and Lisette shook as she came, sobs muffled against Clavis’ mouth. The world disappeared for a good few seconds.

Awareness came back gradually. Clavis was still kissing Lisette (good to know she hadn’t accidentally bitten him, because that orgasm was fierce) and the hand at her breast had moved to her side, rubbing up and down in soothing motions. Her own hands had dropped to his arms at some point, holding on for support. Lisette grunted when he gently slid his fingers out of her. With an exaggerated smack, Clavis broke their kiss apart, smiling down at her, half proud, half just . . . happy. It was a good sight to focus on as Lisette returned to the land of the living.

“Fuck, that was good,” Lisette said once her ears stopped ringing and her limbs stopped shivering, stretching as much as she was able to. She leaned up to kiss Clavis herself, hand cupping his cheek, to show her appreciation. She brought her legs back into the tub and shifted her body around so that she was facing Clavis. Sensing her intentions, he made a good attempt at trying to protest, but Lisette kept kissing him to drown out any words and batted his hands away. Only when she was fully turned around did she back away.

Clavis was pouting when she pulled back.”This was supposed to be about you,” he insisted as Lisette reached for the empty pitcher. 

“I distinctly remember you saying you needed a bath just as much as I did earlier,” Lisette covered his eyes as she tipped the water over his head. There was only one jar left that hadn’t been used, and the bottle looked similar to the one that contained her shampoo, so Lisette took it. As she poured the shampoo out and lathered it up, she studied Clavis, who was dripping wet and slightly flushed at the idea of Lisette giving him the same treatment he gave her. When he caught her staring at him, however, he affected a confident smile, with a gleam in his eyes to match. Okay, time to mess with him. “You know,” Lisette teased, “you’re  pretty like this too, even though your wet hair makes you look like a drowned rat.”

Clavis squawked, scandalized and mock offended, but he gave himself away when he laughed as Lisette started scrubbing the shampoo into his hair, trying to massage it in the same way he had. “Nice try, but I know better than to fall for it,” Clavis kept his gaze, still full of confidence, trained on Lisette’s, “You like my hair too much to think it looks bad wet.” Lisette narrowed her eyes at him, but she decided to let it go. For one, he was totally right: he did look a bit silly, but somehow he still looked good, too. More vulnerable, in a weird way. Also, she didn’t want to tease him every time he felt self-assured, otherwise what would be the point of trying to convince him he was it for her?

Knowing it was her loss, Lisette looked away first to reach for the empty pitcher. She blatantly ignored his smug look as she carefully rinsed his hair, guiding his head back and shielding his  forehead to help protect his eyes from the runoff. She went for the special soap next, but the bottle was suspiciously light when she took it. She shook it just to make sure, and yep: empty. Lisette leveled an accusatory glare at Clavis, who shrugged innocently. “Oh dear, is there not enough? That’s too bad, maybe next time.” Yeah, right. Motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing by not filling it up enough. Well, that was fine-Lisette would just have to get him back. Maybe blindside him with a good present or something, make him realize he can’t get away with accepting less for himself.

With nothing for it, Lisette switched to the regular soap, following the same path Clavis did. The fading hickey called out to her as she started at his shoulders, but she would get back to it later. She scooted closer to hug Clavis and mouth at his jaw while she took care of his back. His cock poked into her inner thigh, but she would get back to that later, too. 

Clavis chased her mouth when she pulled back to make quick work of his arms, giving her a quick peck before letting her focus on what she was doing. Lisette made quicker work of his arms than she intended to, drawn to impatience thanks to Clavis being adorable and kissable. When she got to his torso, she tried to pay as much attention to his pecs as he had with her breasts, squeezing each in a handful, rubbing and pinching his nipples, scratching lightly across his skin. Clavis bit his lip, his hands coming to rest on her waist. “Time-time to move on, don’t you think, Lis?” Clavis pleaded (and he could argue all he wanted, that’s exactly what it was) when she gave his right nipple a sharp tug.

Lisette chuckled, “Sure, babe, I can take mercy on you.” She carefully slid her hands down his torso, applying gentle pressure along his stomach and sides to avoid setting off his ticklish spots. He quivered a bit, muscles contracting, and Lisette resolved to explore that more some other time. “So sensitive,” she murmured.

“That is not what that’s supposed to mean,” Clavis said.

Lisette shrugged, backing up a bit to better access his legs. “Well, I’m happy to show you how else you’re sensitive if you really insist.” She emphasized her words by wrapping her hands around his inner thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into his pelvic bone. Clavis mumbled something about not wanting to interrupt. Taking pity on him, Lisette washed his legs, enjoying the way he trembled whenever she swept her hands up his thighs and close to his cock. Okay, so maybe not a lot of pity. To rectify that, she didn’t spend as long on his legs as he had hers, and when she was done, she scooted closer, cupping his jaw and giving him a smooch. “I’m gonna take care of you now, yeah?” Clavis gulped and nodded his assent, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her. 

Without any preamble, Lisette reached down and gripped his cock in one hand, using her other to soothingly caress his leg, his side, his chest, his neck, scratching here and there to add a different sensation. She slowly stroked his cock, easing him into it. His breathing had already picked up, tiny huffs she felt against her lips. Clavis liked to go on about preferring to give than take, but Lisette was exactly the same way: the way Clavis reacted when she touched him was too intoxicating for her to resist.

Lisette sped up her motions, occasionally twisting the head on her upstrokes, thumb rubbing over his slit when possible. Clavis’ hips started jerking into the motion, like he was still trying to hold back but his body wasn’t cooperating. He was starting to make more noise that he tried to stifle by kissing Lisette deeper, arms tightening involuntarily around her shoulders. She wound him up a bit more, listening to him getting louder and moving more insistently.

Lisette lifted her free hand along his chest, over his collarbone, circling the back of his neck until she reached his nape. She carefully ran her hand up through the roots of his hair and gripped a fistfull before tugging. His head tipped back, ripping a half-gasp, half-moan out of him, his hips jolting up in response. Clavis sat, dazed, mouth open unconsciously and freely letting loose the whimpers he’d tried to hide earlier, unfocused gaze resting on her forehead due to the angle Lisette craned his head at. His neck was now on full display, and there was that damn nearly gone hickey, taunting her. 

Clavis gathered himself and looked down, noticing Lisette’s intense gaze. He wriggled in what was probably meant to be an enticing way, golden eyes alight with mischief. “Not enough marks on me?” he purred, “Need to cover me in bruises so everyone knows I’m yours?” Lisette growled, tightening her grip on his hair. Clavis groaned, toes curling at the sensation. One day, Lisette was going to have to test just how much Clavis liked having his hair yanked.

Clavis tipped his head back as much as he could manage, which was . . . well. He could nudge it the slightest inch, but that was all the encouragement Lisette needed. Interpreting his request, she obligingly dragged his head back more until he was staring at the ceiling, his back curving to accommodate the new position. “Have at it, Lisette,” he coaxed, voice low and seductive like an incubus hypnotizing his target, “Brand me. Dig your teeth in and eat. Mark a collar around my throat. Remind me that I belong to you.”

With a snarl, Lisette did just that. Lips and teeth and tongue latched onto his throat, biting and licking and sucking. Her other hand, which had gone still around his cock, sped up to match the pace of her mouth. Lisette started on the spot where the previous hickey was, coaxing it back to life. When she was satisfied, she moved onto the rest of his neck, drawing out hickeys wherever she could: low on his collarbone, high near his jaw, dead center across his adams’ apple. Blooms of color erupted on his skin, imprints of teeth marks left here and there.

Clavis got louder and louder, one hand attempting to gain purchase in her hair and the other clinging to her lower back, pressing her closer to him. Lisette went happily, pressing herself until they were chest-to-chest, his cock trapped between their stomachs. It was a bit harder to get a good angle to stroke him, but their bodies rocking together and driving up the friction made up for it.

Lisette, knowing Clavis was getting close, latched onto a spot on his neck-about halfway up his neck, directly beneath his beauty mark-that she knew was particularly sensitive. She licked a stripe across it before mouthing at it, closed-mouth kisses placed so lightly they felt like butterfly kisses. Clavis squirmed, voice going a touch higher-pitched.

She started sucking at that patch of skin, encouraging blood to rise to the surface as she worked at it. She stroked his cock faster, both actions drawing a loud moan from Clavis. He was right on the edge, she could tell: his body was trembling in that tell-tale way of his, muscles contracting with every breath, extremities tensing in preparation. Without warning, Lisette’s teeth clamped down on his neck and she gave one last, strong suck while her thumb dug into the glans right underneath the head of his cock. With a wail, Clavis tipped over the edge. Lisette gradually slowed the pace of her strokes on his cock until she stopped, letting him ride it out as much as he could before getting overstimulated. She dragged her mouth off his neck but kept her grip on his hair, hoping the feeling would help him stay grounded as he came down.

Lisette studied Clavis as he regained his bearings. His neck was a disaster zone of bruises that were just starting to form. It fulfilled something deeply primal in Lisette. Clavis may be a leg man, but this was Lisette’s preference.

“Well,” Clavis said, still slightly out of breath, “that was certainly satisfying.” He pressed on a couple of the newly-made bruises, biting his lower lip at the sting.  Lisette felt herself getting wound up all over again at the sight. The way Clavis enjoyed being marked as much as she loved marking him caused this endless loop of arousal through her-it made her want to repeat the process all over again. 

Clavis took notice of Lisette’s renewed interest. He smirked wolfishly and brought his hands back to her waist. “Did that get you all hot and bothered again? I can certainly be persuaded to indulge in a second round.”

“I think we should take it to bed,” Lisette gestured to the water, now gone opaque with their runoff and, well, their other runoff. The water was beginning to get cold, too.

Clavis laughed, “Good point. I’m all up for making a mess, but I'm usually not caught up in it myself. But it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

There was nothing obvious in his tone that indicated he was looking for validation, but Lisette knew her boyfriend. She cradled his cheeks in her hands as she said, “It was. Thanks for suggesting this, Clavis. I really enjoyed it.”

Clavis glanced away, flustered, but he still preened, “Of course, I always come up with great ideas.”

“Exactly,” Lisette couldn’t help but kiss him. She pulled away only to nuzzle his nose with hers. “So any more ideas you have, any other things couples do, whatever milestones there are, I wanna do ‘em. I know I’ll have fun because I’ll be with you.” Now Clavis looked like he was getting overwhelmed, but he leaned in to kiss her back, forehead pressed to hers as he promised, “We’ll do everything, Lisette.”

#Ikepri #My fics #One suitor one prompt ccc #I can't believe I finally wrote something #After ages of making up fic ideas in my head I finally have an actual story written out #Pretty proud rn not gonna lie #Now I just need to figure out how to make better headers and line breaks when I post to tumblr

[onceuponastory]

part of a family - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: After Y/N is abandoned by her boyfriend, the father of her 8 month old son, her best friend Bucky comes to the rescue. The same Bucky who’s been in love with Y/N ever since he met her. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Being abandoned by a parent/a parental figure leaving, breakups, a few mentions of Bucky’s past as the winter soldier (but nothing too graphic), a tiny mention of blood, and a tiny mention of how babies are poop and vomit machines if that gives you the ick. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: Look, as soon as I had this idea, I knew I had to finish it even though it’s been sitting on my WIP list for months. It’s Bucky and a baby, hOW COULD I NOT? Thank you to my bestie @staticscreenwriting​ for my dividers and header, and for listening to me ramble about how cute Bucky + a baby would be.

The sound of a phone ringing soon disturbs the mid morning silence in Bucky Barnes’ apartment, waking up the super soldier almost immediately as it begins. Not that he was getting much sleep, anyway. Especially not with a past like his. Groaning, Bucky grabs his phone, accepting the call without even looking at the caller ID. As an Avenger, he knows that the call could be important. Or it could just be Steve or Sam needing something. Still, despite his heroic obligations, Bucky still wishes that whoever or whatever it is would just go away and let him sleep. Although he doesn’t get much sleep nowadays, he’d at least like to try to get some.

“Yeah? What is it?” He answers, his words mostly mumbled.

“Bucky?” He hears a voice sniffling on the other end. Almost immediately, Bucky comes awake, and he sits up, recognising the voice on the other end right away. Y/N. His best friend for almost a decade. From the pain in her voice and the sniffling, he can tell something is wrong immediately. 

“Y/N, what happened? Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call.” Y/N mumbles, and Bucky feels a pang in his heart. 

“Y/N, I told you, you can call me anytime you need help. I’ll always answer.” He tells her. “Now, what happened?” A sob sounds from the other end of the phone, and Bucky swears that sound almost breaks his heart. He just wants to keep Y/N safe and happy, so when she isn’t, he feels like he’s failed in his position as a best friend.

“...He’s gone, Bucky. Brandon. He just left us.” Another sniffle. “...He said he wasn’t happy being with Oscar and I, and that he didn’t want to stay anymore. He told me he didn’t want to be a dad in the first place, and that I trapped him in a relationship by getting pregnant. And he tells me this now? When Oscar is eight months old?!” Bucky is already out of bed and getting dressed before Y/N continues to explain the situation. Bucky hears another sob from the other end of the line, and he clenches his fist angrily. Brandon is...or well, was Y/N’s boyfriend, and the father of their son Oscar. And he’s fucking abandoned them both, left them like they’re worth nothing to him. “....Oh god Bucky, what am I supposed to do now? I don’t know if I can do this on my own and my mom is so far away, a-and-” Y/N sobs, each tear feeling like a gut punch. “Buck? Are you still there?” Y/N asks, sniffling again.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Bucky makes the trip to Y/N’s house in exactly eight minutes. He storms up to the door. If Brandon is back, he better have a good excuse for leaving. Not that there is one, mind you, but still. Or at least, have a good apology. Because who does that? Who leaves their girlfriend and child alone with no help? Yet, before he can even knock on the front door, it swings open to reveal Y/N standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks. Bucky’s heart breaks, and all his thoughts of anger towards Brandon leaving are forgotten. For now, anyway. “Oh Y/N.” He soothes, pulling her close for a hug, which she gratefully accepts, squeezing him as tightly as she can. Like he’s a rock stopping her from being swept out to sea. Y/N sniffles into his shirt, and Bucky strokes her back, knowing it helps calm her down. Y/N savours the moment for a while, enjoying Bucky’s comfort and support. And for the first time that day, Y/N feels better. Not fully better, but it’s a start, anyway. She even feels a small smile grow on her lips. As far as she’s concerned, Y/N could stay here forever, wrapped in Bucky’s embrace. 

“You, um, you should come inside.” She mumbles once they pull apart, stepping aside. “Oscar’s in his playpen in the living room. I’ve been trying to stay strong for him, but clearly it’s not working.” She sighs, gesturing to her face. “I know. I look like a mess. Thankfully, Oscar’s still barely talking, so he can’t ask me what’s wrong.” Bucky shakes his head. He thinks she looks gorgeous. She always has. After all, he’s been in love with her ever since he met her. He’d know that. But she was with Brandon back then, and then she had Oscar, and Bucky knew he couldn’t ruin their relationship. He’s already ruined so many lives and families, he can’t ruin hers. She’s too special to him for that. And besides, finding out your best friend is in love with you is probably not what you want to hear after your boyfriend just walked out on you and your child. 

The pair enter the living room, and Oscar notices Bucky almost immediately, kicking his legs and babbling away excitedly. Y/N starts smiling as soon as she sees her son, and Bucky grins. People say there’s nothing like the love of a mother, and Y/N is clearly full of it. And the way she lights up when she sees her son shows she’s one of the best out there. Besides, she definitely has more love in her little finger than Brandon ever did, for a start.

“Oscar, this is Bucky. Remember him? Can you say hello? Can you say Bucky?” Y/N asks, holding him up to see Bucky. Oscar’s wide eyes look up at Bucky. Bucky chuckles. Oscar is definitely the spitting image of his mother. He has the same eyes as her, for a start. The same pair of eyes that Bucky fell in love with the first time he met Y/N. 

“Blubbla!” Oscar babbles, showing him a toothy grin and reaching out for Bucky with his little hands. Bucky laughs. 

“Hey buddy. Good job at saying my name!” Bucky gives a small wave. Oscar tries his best to give him one back, making Bucky’s heart swell. He never knew such a tiny human could generate so much love and happiness.

“I’m gonna go put him down for a nap, then we can talk. Is that okay?” Y/N asks, her happiness suddenly fading again. Bucky’s face falls. He wishes he could just take all that pain and sadness away from her. He swears that when he sees Brandon again, he’s going to punch him in the face. Well...Sam would tell him to just give him a stern talking to. And Bucky will do that. After he punches Brandon in the face. 

“Of course it is, Y/N.” He gives her arm a reassuring rub as she leaves the room.

“I just, I can’t believe he didn’t say anything up till now!” Y/N sighs, clutching one of Oscar’s teddies close to her chest. Even though she’s never told him this, Bucky knows that holding his toys close is a comfort for her. It means she can be extra close to him, even when he’s just upstairs napping. Despite how cute that is, it only makes Bucky even angrier about the situation. Y/N cares so much about her son’s well being, and yet life and her ex have treated her so poorly. “Like, he said-” She takes a deep breath to steady herself, and Bucky gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. Once again, it helps her feel better. “-he said he’d been thinking about this for a while, probably even a few months. And he tells me this today? God, Bucky, what am I going to do if he doesn’t come back? What if I have to raise Oscar on my own?” She asks as tears roll down her cheeks again.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Bucky replies, pulling her closer for a hug and letting her cry into his chest. “You do not have to do this on your own, and you will never be alone.” Y/N smiles.

“Would it…would it be okay if you stayed over for a while? Feel free to say no, it’s just that I trust you, and Oscar adores you. I mean, I do too, it’s just- ah, fuck. Sorry.” Y/N mumbles into his shirt. “And it would be nice to have some help around here while I try to sort this whole mess out.” Bucky sighs softly. If he could, he’d take all this pain away from her and deal with it himself. After all, he’s been through so much of it already. In fact, most would argue that Bucky Barnes has been through far more pain and trauma than one person deserves. But despite that, he’d go through it all again if it meant Y/N never had to go through any pain of her own. “Just for a little bit. If you need to leave because of your whole Avengers thing, that’s totally okay. I don’t want to stop you from saving the world.” She pulls away, looking at him nervously, and Bucky can tell that she’s worried he’ll leave her too. Bucky leans in even closer, so close that she can feel his breath on her face.

“Y/N. I could never, and would never, leave you or Oscar. I’ll always come back for you both. Promise.” He whispers. With a small smile, Y/N nods. 

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“There’s that smile.” He grins. Bucky hasn’t had much happiness in his life ever since he became the Winter Soldier, but he swears that Y/N’s smile is the most beautiful thing in the world. More often than not, it’s the only thing that makes him happy, and makes him feel all warm and gooey inside. And because she’s so heartbroken right now, Bucky’s going to make sure that both she and Oscar have reason to smile for as long as he can. 

“I really appreciate you doing this when you’re so busy, Bucky. I appreciate you a lot, you know?” That makes Bucky feel even better. Sometimes, he swears that Y/N’s the only one who appreciates him.

“Don’t be silly. It’s no problem at all.” He smiles. The pair stay close for a little while longer, so close that they could reach out and touch one another. They’re both silent, yet it’s a comfortable silence. Because Y/N and Bucky don’t need to talk. They can just be happy in each other’s company. For a moment, Y/N’s gaze lowers, almost as if she’s looking at his lips. Bucky’s cheeks go a little pink, and his heart rate rises as he pictures kissing Y/N. 

“Bucky, I-” Y/N whispers, and Bucky raises his brows, waiting for what she’s about to say. Yet, Y/N stops herself before she can finish her sentence. Bucky’s mind wanders, and he thinks about kissing her even more. Despite how much he wants to kiss her, though, he knows he can’t. Y/N’s just had her heart broken and been left to raise her son alone. Him admitting his feelings for her will probably mess things up even more, which is the last thing she needs. And with a past like his, the last thing Bucky wants to do is put either her or Oscar in danger. Before either of them can say or do anything more, Oscar’s crying sounds from upstairs. “He’ll probably need his nappy changed. I’ll go do it.” She murmurs, leaving before Bucky can offer to do it. 

Once he’s alone, he starts to think. Even though he’s been in love with Y/N ever since they first met, he can’t act on his feelings, or tell her the truth. He loves her so much, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt her. And besides, she definitely doesn’t need him acting like his life is hard because he can’t be with her. Soon, Y/N comes back, cradling Oscar to her chest. “You alright?” she asks, seeing Bucky deep in thought. And even though he knows he’s still upset about not being able to admit his true feelings for Y/N, the sight still makes Bucky smile. She really is beautiful.

“Yeah.” Bucky nods. “I’m great.”

A few nights later, as Y/N sleeps (or at least tries to, despite everything that’s happened), the sound of Oscar’s crying sounds from the baby monitor. Immediately, she’s awake. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m coming.” She murmurs, feeling around for her slippers and robe in the darkness. Of course, she’s accustomed to Oscar’s late night routine…mostly since she’s the only one who actually woke up to feed him and check on him.

Yet, as she opens her bedroom door and heads towards the nursery, the sound of crying seemingly stops. Y/N’s brow furrows, and she slowly tiptoes towards the door. Oscar rarely, if ever, stops crying out of the blue, and especially not when she isn’t there. So what’s changed? When she peeks through the gap in the door, Y/N gets her answer.

“Hey buddy.” Bucky whispers, clutching Oscar to his chest. “I know you’re hungry, but you’ve gotta try to get some sleep, alright? You’ll wake your momma.” Oscar babbles something, and Bucky laughs. “I know, I know, I gave you some food...but your momma’s going through a rough time right now, so you have to be nice and let her get some sleep, alright?” Y/N watches the scene unfold, smiling to herself as she wonders what on earth she did to deserve someone as supportive and caring as Bucky Barnes in her life. 

As she watches Bucky cuddling her son close, his metal arm protectively cradling and rocking Oscar as he grabs fistfuls of Bucky's shirt in his tiny hands, Y/N's heart swells, and she sighs happily. “It’s not nice to not have a lot of sleep, is it? I should know.” Bucky says, laughing awkwardly. Y/N sighs. Even though Bucky doesn’t admit his feelings very often, she knows that he’s still having trouble coming to terms with his past and the things he did as the Winter Soldier. Of course, Y/N knows she has no idea of the true scale of pain that Bucky's actually going through. She can see it on his face, though, when he thinks she isn't looking. Sometimes, Bucky just stops, staring into space in silence for a while as the horrors and nightmares of his past flood back to him, and he remembers what he used to be. Y/N just wishes Bucky could see himself how others see him. Not as the Winter Soldier, but as Bucky Barnes. And she especially wants him to see how loving he is. After all, despite the anxieties and blood stained history connected to his arm, Bucky’s still using it to protect and support her son.

Because Bucky Barnes is not a monster. He never was. In fact, he's the complete opposite. He’s warm, and he’s loving, despite everything the world did to him. Or well, at least he is to her and Oscar. 

And maybe that’s all that matters.

Since Bucky started living with Y/N and Oscar, he’s helped her so much more than he could ever know. He’s done everything: night feeds, changes (although it took him a little while to get used to how much poop and vomit babies generate), building cribs and other furniture, and more. He also reached out to his superpowered friends and coworkers for help, and true to form, all of Earth’s mightiest heroes rallied around them both. Sam and Sarah gave her spare, old clothes from Cass and AJ, Tony and Pepper offered all of Morgan’s old toys and playdates, Natasha and Wanda promised to take her out on girls' nights for a night out, and all the others offered babysitting and other ways to help. Y/N is incredibly grateful to them for all their help, but she’s especially grateful to Bucky, more so than he’ll ever know. She tells him that every day, but doesn’t know if he truly believes it. Without him, she knows she would have fallen apart. Bucky might not see himself as a hero, but to Y/N, he truly is her saviour. Their arrangement was only meant to last a few weeks, but now it’s been months, and Oscar’s first birthday is fast approaching.

“So, how’s your son Barnes?” Natasha grins one day after a debrief meeting.

“He’s not my son.” 

“Buck probably wishes he was, though.” Steve murmurs, and a few laughs sound from the group. Bucky rolls his eyes, but still can’t stop a smile from growing on his lips. It’s small, yet the others still notice, and an ‘Ooooh!’ ripples throughout the room.

“Shut up.” He hisses, his cheeks flushing pink. Of course, he’s still head over heels in love with Y/N, and would love nothing more than to be with her, and to be a father figure to Oscar (officially this time). But he’s still too scared to admit his feelings for her. And besides, they’ve both been through so much pain already. Even though he’s a reformed assassin, Bucky knows his past could still catch up to them both, and he’s terrified of putting either of them in danger. “Anyway, speaking of, Y/N says you’re all invited to Oscar’s first birthday party as a thank you for all your support. It’s in two weeks.” The room fills with the sound of agreement, and once again, Bucky is smiling.

Later that evening, Bucky comes home from an endless day of meetings, exhausted and ready to see his two favourite people. However, as soon as he steps into the house, Y/N’s voice shouts:

“Bucky? Is that you? Come upstairs, quickly!” Bucky runs upstairs the quickest he’s ever moved in his life, terrified that his past as the Winter Soldier has caught up to him, and that Y/N and Oscar are in danger, or hurt. But when he gets there, the scene that greets him is thankfully not what he was expecting. Y/N kneels on the floor, with Oscar sitting a few feet away. “Come on, sweetheart. Show Bucky what you can do!” Y/N urges gently. Without another word, Oscar pushes himself up on his little legs, and toddles over towards Bucky. Once he reaches Bucky, he stumbles forward slightly, wrapping his little arms around Bucky’s leg and holding on tightly.

“Good job Oscar! Who’s my special little guy?” Y/N praises. “He’s been close to walking all day, and just as you got home he looked like he was about to do it, so I had to call you up.” Bucky looks down, and Oscar stares back up at him with a toothy grin. Immediately, Bucky feels tears stinging at his eyes as Oscar holds onto him even tighter. After being responsible for so much death and destruction in his lifetime, Bucky’s never felt so loved before. He’s also never been involved in such an important part of life before.

Because being a part of something like this, something so tender, so loving…is showing Bucky that maybe he’s capable of good things after all he’s done. “Bucky? Are you- Oh my god, are you crying?” Y/N gasps.

“No!” Bucky lies, trying furiously to wipe his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Buck….” Y/N soothes, picking up her son and pulling both him and Bucky into a hug. “Thank you. For everything.” She smiles. “I’m so grateful to you. More than you’ll ever know.”

“You’re welcome.” For a moment, as they both look into each other’s eyes, Bucky swears that this is it. This is when he could kiss her, with no care or any fear. But before he can, Y/N leans in first. As her lips get even closer to his face, Bucky’s heart rate picks up, rising so quickly he fears his heart is about to break free from his chest. Part of him, the scared part, wants to run, but he finds himself rooted to his position. Y/N presses her lips against his cheek. As her lips brush against his skin, heat immediately rises into Bucky’s cheeks, and he blushes deeply. He turns his head quickly, almost catching her lips with his. A gasp leaves Y/N’s lips, and her eyes widen ever so slightly. The familiar worries enter Bucky’s mind then, that despite how right this feels, and how much he wants to kiss her, it’s wrong. That a monster like him doesn’t deserve love after what he’s done, and especially not from someone like Y/N. Maybe she doesn’t even like him back.

But then, Y/N turns her head towards him, leaning in close. This time, it really does feel like his heart is going to break out of his chest. As their lips almost meet, for a moment, it feels like everything is right in the world. But before their lips touch, the phone starts to ring, stopping them both. 

“I um…I better go get that.” Y/N mumbles. Bucky reaches out, about to stop her. And it almost seems as if Y/N waits for him to do it. When he doesn’t, her face falls slightly. “I’ll be a sec.” As she walks away, Bucky sighs. Now he’s really messed up. Fuck.

Two weeks later, Oscar’s birthday party arrives, and Y/N’s house is full of Avengers. Away from the madness, Bucky helps Y/N as she brings more bowls of snacks through to the kitchen. Despite their continued ease and comfortableness around each other, there’s still a sense of awkwardness around them. Since they almost kissed, neither of them has spoken about it. Even though it’s been replaying in Bucky’s mind constantly, and all he wants is to admit his feelings and kiss her properly this time. If he could, he’d kiss her forever.

“Where’s Oscar?” She asks, and Bucky chuckles. 

“He’s in there, being fawned over by all his honorary aunts and uncles.” Y/N follows him into the dining room, where the Avengers are all playing with Oscar.

“He’s so cute! Like a little angel.” Wanda coos, cuddling him close.

“Yeah, just wait till he’s older, though.”

“Don’t worry about that, Natasha. We’ll teach him what’s right and wrong, Y/N.” Steve promises.

“Oooh, yeah, videos in gym class. How exciting.” Sam teases, taking Oscar from Wanda. “What I wanna know is when he can go for a flying lesson with me.”

“That’s not happening.” Bucky shakes his head. 

“Not for a while yet, Sam.” Y/N laughs. 

“Ah, they grow up so fast! Soon he might even be able to lift Mjölnir!” Thor chuckles. As Y/N watches Earth’s Mightiest Heroes cuddling and playing with her son, Bucky notices tears shimmering in her eyes. He takes her hand, interlinking his fingers with hers.

“You’re not alone.” He whispers, giving her hand a squeeze. He knows his friends are probably teasing him about this, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is making sure that his two favourite people in the world are happy. So when the doorbell rings and Y/N goes to answer it, he’s confused. As far as he knows, everyone else is already here. So who the hell could this be? His concern grows, and he readies his metal arm just in case. When Y/N comes back with a familiar face, Bucky is just as confused and concerned.

“Everyone…this is Brandon. Oscar’s father.” Y/N announces, her gaze falling to the floor. Immediately, the mood of the room changes. The others don’t know the full extent of the story, but they do know Brandon left them both. 

“Hey everyone.” Brandon mutters, warily looking around the room full of superheroes. Then, he makes eye contact with Bucky’s glaring face and flexing metal arm, both warning him that there’ll be serious consequences if he ever hurts Y/N and Oscar again. “Hey Bucky.”

“Hi.” Bucky hisses. Brandon visibly gulps, before noticing his son in Sam’s arms. Right away, his face lights up.

“Oscar! Hey buddy! Come to daddy!” He grins. As Sam reluctantly hands Oscar over, Bucky leans in closer to Y/N.

“Are you okay? Did he show up out of nowhere? If you need me and the others to get rid of him, let me know.” Bucky whispers. To his surprise, Y/N shakes her head.

“No. I invited him.” And then Bucky’s heart sinks. She invited him? Sure, he’s Oscar’s father, but he gave up that role a long time ago. After everything that happened, she still invited him back? Bucky looks over at Y/N, who’s now chatting with Oscar and Brandon, like they’re a happy family. One that Bucky clearly doesn’t fit in. Maybe that’s why she invited him back. Maybe after her and Bucky’s failed kiss attempt, she wants to try again. Because maybe she didn’t feel anything for him at all. And that thought tears Bucky apart.

“You alright?” Steve murmurs, and Bucky nods. Even though it’s obvious he’s not okay. He casts one last look over at Y/N, smiling as she holds her son. But if he doesn’t fit into her life anymore, he just has to accept it. 

Despite the awkwardness of Brandon being there, and Bucky worrying that he no longer fits into Y/N’s life, the party is fun. At least, it is when Bucky isn’t throwing glares at Brandon and sad glances at Y/N. Once it’s over and everyone has left, Bucky joins Y/N in the kitchen, helping her clean up. And hopefully he can find a way to talk about his feelings about this whole situation. He just can’t find the words right now. As they clean in silence, the air around them both is awkward. 

“Hey, um.” Bucky finally begins. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll move my stuff out whenever you want.” Y/N frowns.

“Why would I want you to do that? You’ve been such a great help, I don’t want you to move out.” Suddenly, her face falls. “Oh god. I’m sorry if I’ve been taking advantage of your help, Bucky. I promise, I didn’t mean to-” 

“God, no!” Bucky exclaims. “You haven’t at all. I was happy to help. I just don’t want to get in the way of you and Brandon.” Y/N continues to frown until the realisation dawns.

“Oh. Bucky, you don’t have to worry about him. There’s nothing more between us.”

“Then why did you invite him?” Bucky asks, and Y/N sighs. “He abandoned you both and told you he didn’t want to be a father!”

“I know! I don’t need the reminder.” Y/N huffs. “I honestly didn’t think he’d reply to me, because he barely replied to any of the messages I sent him before now. But when I asked what he was giving Oscar for his birthday, he replied and asked what I was doing for it, so I mentioned the party. Don’t look at me like that!” She orders, pointing out Bucky’s expression. “Yes, he left, but he’s Oscar’s dad, Buck. I know he’s an asshole, but I’d feel like an asshole if I didn’t invite his dad to his first birthday party. Like what if he grew up and found out I kept his dad away from him? I just want Oscar to be happy.” She sighs with a sniffle. Bucky’s face softens, and he steps forward, pulling her into a hug.

“And he is happy, Y/N. He’s the best kid I’ve seen, and it’s a testament to you. Nobody else.” He rubs her back as she sniffles softly into his shirt. “I’m sorry if I was being a dick about everything.”

“No, you weren’t. You were just looking out for us both, like you always do. I’m so grateful to you.” Y/N tells him. “The way Oscar turned out may be a testament to me, but I think it’s a testament to you too, Bucky. You’ve done so much for him, for us both. You know, Brandon had no idea what to get Oscar for a present, or what his favourite things to do are. You do, and I think the toys you bought him might be his favourite presents. To be honest, I don’t even know if he knew when Oscar’s birthday was until I told him. And you helped me teach Oscar how to walk and talk, not him. You were the one helping me with baths, night feeds and changes, not him. I told you Bucky, you’ve helped us both more than you can ever imagine, and I am so grateful to you. Brandon might be Oscar’s dad by blood, but to me, you are his father figure.” Bucky stands in shock. As Y/N’s words sink in, he feels tears building in his eyes. Nobody has ever said anything like that about him before. A huge smile grows on his face. Both Y/N and Bucky stay there for a while, wrapped in each other’s embrace. “Bucky?”

“Mhm?”

“I want to tell you something. Something that I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but have never had the confidence to.” She takes a breath. “The reason it won’t work out with me and Brandon anymore is because I’m in love with someone else. I’m in love with you, Bucky.” Bucky’s eyes widen, and he gasps. “If you don’t feel the same about me, then I understand. I just felt like I’d be going crazy if I didn’t tell you the truth.” Lifting his hand, Bucky cups her cheeks. 

“Y/N, I love you too. I have done for years, but I never said anything because you had Brandon and Oscar, and I didn’t want to ruin your happiness.” 

“Bucky. You could never do that. After what happened, I never thought I’d have happiness again, but being with you and Oscar in our little family has brought me so much joy.” Bucky leans in close, running his thumb along her lips. Without another word, he leans in close, pressing his lips to hers in a tender kiss. As they pull each other closer, Bucky’s arms hold her tightly, so tightly that he’ll never let go ever again. That he’ll keep her safe forever.

“Thank you.” He whispers when they pull apart. “Thank you for making me part of a family.”

I don’t do taglists anymore, so please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn notifications on to be notified when I next post!

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x Female Reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel oneshot

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿𝙔 𝙆𝙉𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙇𝙀𝙎 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

∘ request(s): 

“aaah your edgy karl is just *chefs kiss* so good!! could i get the reader patching up edgy karl after a particularly bad fight?”

“can we get something a bit softer for the edgy!karl series? Just love when guys like that are soft with the reader xx”

"ouu maybe for the next part of the edgy karl series reader makes it all about karl? like they end up sleeping in the same bed or smth and while karl is still sleepy/barely waking up reader just makes him feel good"

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+), mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, drug use (smoking weed), crude language, oral (m. receiving)

∘ word count: 2417

∘ links: AO3, prev. chapter

∘ a/n: THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REQUESTS FOR EDGY!KARL. YOUR IDEAS ARE HNNNNGGG SO GOOD JESUS CHRIST! 

Also if you guys would like to make some of the edgy!Karl edits for the headers and submit them to me, I'll use them :D

This is a bit more dOmEsTiC than this series has been going but, hopefully you guys are still into it. Anyway, I hope everyone is having a good week! Happy reading :)

The air was crisp as the sun began to set; night slinking towards your apartment to envelop you and Karl within its darkness. The two of you watched intently as the ball of light crept towards the horizon line. Karl's arm threaded across your torso, fingertips brushing against the skin of your stomach peeking from beneath the hem of your shirt. You leaned your head against his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his as you sat between his legs. The sound of soft chatter from other floors beneath you filled the expanses between your apartment building and the one adjacent to it. As night fell, people cracked open their windows and hung their feet over the fire escapes. 

You and Karl had been out prior to this, sharing a joint as you watched the stars roll in. Karl's back was pressed against the brick wall beneath your window, the blunt hanging loosely from his slender fingers as he bent his knee, giving you something else to curl your arms around. From across the way, someone began playing music, making someone in the apartment directly under the two of you to begin singing. 

Karl took a drag off the blunt before letting the thick smoke pour from between his lips. "I think I need to teach you how to skate," he stated rather nonchalantly as he offered you the joint. 

You scoffed at his remark, leaning your head back against his chest and taking the blunt from him. "I'd like to see you try," you shot back jokingly, fully knowing you didn't have the balance and he didn’t have the patience, yet something churned within you at the thought. You knew you shouldn't have thought anything of it really, but Karl sharing a portion of something he's passionate about with you was next to a love language. 

Since spring break had begun, Karl had begun staying over at your place more frequently. During these nearly intimate moments where it had been only the two of you keeping each other company, you'd come to see Karl as more of a friend than just a booty call. Slowly peeling back the layers of his esoteric aura, you found out his quirks that you'd come to only associate with him, such as the brand of nail polish he trusted because it was a recommendation from a girl in his art class, or how when he was thinking about something deeper than a food order, he'd slick a hand through his hair to brush his bangs out of his eyes. 

Yet this meeting was spurred by something else. He’d shown up on your doorstep with a black eye and bruised knuckles. You knew his housemates were beginning to trickle back to campus, so you figured almost instantly that Todd had figured out what the two of you had been up to when he was gone. 

You pulled your front door open, tugging your hoodie closer to your body against the wind from outside. Karl stood before you, leaning a hand against your doorframe with a small smile plastered over his busted lip. There was a cut across his cheekbone as if whoever had hit him wore various rings. You gave into the impulses ringing in your body and reached up for his face, gently brushing a thumb against his jaw, which you could now tell was also beginning to bruise. One of his hands reached up to hold your wrist, his fingers grazed against your skin with such gentleness. The action was almost a juxtaposition to the way he looked. 

Karl sat down on your toilet, his eyes watching each of your movements as you fished through your cabinet for your roommate’s first aid kit. He wasn’t acting like he had been dragged around instead, he seemed more excited to see you than anything. Maybe that was due to the fact that you fed him, and stray dogs always come back to food. 

After clearing most of the dried blood from his wounds, you went about disinfecting and sealing him up. You stood between his legs, gently dabbing at the cut on his cheek, trying desperately not to think about how you were finally living out one of your fantasies. He leaned into your touch almost as if your skin held the elixir of life. You fought not to ask him what had happened because you knew he didn’t like talking about it, but you couldn’t help but worry about him a bit. 

You hugged the arm he had around you tighter to your chest, your eyes fixating on an open window across the way from the two of you. There were two people having dinner in a room next to the window, a warm glow from the lamps inside spilling into the dimming night. "Did it get lonely in that big ass house?" You inquired, watching his fingers reach to throw out the dead bud. That hand moved to play with your own, threading his fingers in and out of yours. The bandage wrapped around the base of his fingers stiffened his movements, but he seemed not to pay any mind to it. “I mean, even though you spent most of your time over here…” 

You felt him shrug against you. "I don't know." He was quiet for a minute as he thought. "I had the memories of what we did in—what did you call him? Todd?—Todd's bed, to keep me company," he quipped, making you snort. You leaned further back against him, enough to where your head was resting on his shoulder so you were looking up at the faint stars dotting the light-polluted sky. He rested his chin on your shoulder quietly. 

As the night grew colder, the two of you climbed back through the window, the haze of the weed still stimulating your mood, yet you quickly found yourself falling asleep in Karl's arms as he tucked your plush comforter around the two of you. His breathy sigh cascaded over your shoulders as he dug his face into your hair. He'd discarded his hoodie before joining your side, so his skin was now warm and inviting as he pressed against you. You bit back a laugh as you silently wished his aftercare was as soft as moments like these. 

A crack of thunder shook you from a dream, pulling you awake rather quickly. Your gaze lifted to peer at the clock on your nightstand as the rain seemed to hammer harder on the windows of your bedroom. Karl was sleeping peacefully beside you, arms lazily threaded through your pillows, unintentionally keeping your body closer to him. The bruising on his face somehow had gotten worse, but you were hoping there wasn’t any permanent damage. Maybe he’d have a scar like Johnny Cade? 

You slipped into his arms, earning a content sigh from Karl as his hands pushed beneath your shirt to brush his coarse fingers against the soft skin of your back, dipping into the valley of your spine. You pressed your lips against his shoulder before traveling the length of his collarbone and ending at his neck. He hummed in pleasure, still groggy from sleep. You let your lips glide over his skin, before leaning up to kiss him softly. He pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss with hints of passion despite the fact that he was still taking his time to wake up completely. 

Your hands danced towards his sweatpants and you felt him smile against your lips. You pulled away from him slightly, digging your face into the crook of his neck. “Let me make you feel good,” you leered, earning a lazy chuckle from him, his fingers knotting into your hair. A clap of lightning flashed outside, the thunder following to sound as if the storm was sitting on your building’s roof. 

Your fingers dipped beneath his waistband, palming him over his boxers slightly. A hushed moan of gratitude slipped past his lips as he softly bucked his hips against your hand while you applied more pressure. Karl sealed his lips against yours, the kiss sending heat throughout your body as his tongue pressed into your mouth, swirling with your own. A moan echoed through his body and into your mouth as he hardened against your hand, asking for more. One of his hands grazed the length of the arm that was working on him, his hand gently grasping your wrist. 

You heeded his silent requests, moving your hand so you could straddle him. You ground your hips against him, the friction between your clothes making the fabrics seem thicker and more barrier-like than anything. One of his hands pressed against the small of your back, driving you harder against him. You broke the kiss breathlessly, sitting off of him and tugging your shirt over your head, his eyes grazed over you almost thankfully. 

You pushed back the heavy covers, slinking down his legs until you were laying flat, tugging his boxers down in front of you. Your room flashed a bright white as the lightning from outside began to pick up. The sound of the rain's war against your windows was the only sound mixing with Karl's soft moan as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. You pressed your lips against his tip, one of his hands moving to rest behind his head so he could see you better. Your fingers icked to please him, his body reacting to each of your movements. 

He tensed under your grasp as you began to pump your hand, drawing out another soft moan from the man above you. "Does that feel good?" You taunted looking up at him through your eyelashes. He chuckled slightly, a dusting of pink settling into his cheeks. Your tongue slid along his length, basking in how his moans edged on being vulgar as you eased your mouth around his arousal. You bobbed your head once before pulling off of him, continuing to speed your hand motions gradually. His gaze was hazy as he attempted to avoid your sultry eye contact, him twitching at your movements each time he did. 

His lips were redder as he chewed on the flesh of them, evident as he continued to fight each moan wanting to escape. You were slightly surprised at this, considering Karl was always shamelessly loud. Maybe it was because he was so vulnerable to you know, and you were in charge. 

Your lips slowly traveled back to his arousal, his gray irises swimming with pleasure as you settled into to take him deeper into your mouth. His grip on your arm tightened as you pushed his tip past your lips once again, a strangled groan of pure pleasure hissing through his teeth. As he reached the back of your throat, tears began to brim in the corners of your eyes and his arousal twitched in your mouth. You began to bob your head once again, edging him on further with each of his moans of your name which you knew was a warning that he was close. You alternated the movements of your mouth and hand, making him fight against bucking his hips towards you. His cock tensed and in an instant, hot sticky strands of pleasure were filling your mouth.

He reached forward to brush his finger against your cheek, wiping away some tears that had pressed from your eyes. You pressed your lips against his thigh before crawling back up towards him. He tugged you on top of him again, lips kneading against yours as a silent appreciation. You push his hand back, threading your fingers with his own, careful not to squeeze against his bruised knuckles that you could tell were sore. You bit back a laugh at the thought of your poor broken boy. 

As the rain picked up heavier, you sank down on his arousal, earning a deep moan from Karl. The feeling of him inside of you this early in the day was a new kind of bliss. You curled your hips against him before bending down to press your lips against his, his hand tightening around yours. You ground against him, pushing him deeper into you, looking to elicit more of his sultry noises that alone—you were convinced—could send you over the edge. Your mind was set on getting him to climax again. Your teeth brushed against his teeth before moving alongside his jaw, letting him catch his breath. 

You pushed his shirt up as you sat back, fingers grazing down his chest as you moved, watching his eyes cloud with bliss to replace their morning hue. As you began to pick up your pace and use him as leverage, you held onto the forearm of his that was gripping onto you. He moaned a few curse words, his head dipping back in bliss, causing the veins in his neck to be more prominent. You moved the hand that was holding onto your waist up to your face. You slipped his index finger into your mouth and his lips parted, eyes fully focused on your actions as your tongue swirled around his fingers. 

His attention burned into you, his jaw tensing with each of your tactics. His hand moved from your mouth to wrap around the back of your neck, bringing your lips back to his. As the coolness of his tongue ring grazed against your own tongue, your hips pressed against him harder. You swallowed his moans, feeling him twitch inside of you as you sped up, tightening around him. Thunder shook your tiny apartment again. 

He cursed darkly, biting back another groan. In no time, you felt his heat come undone inside of you, pride swelling in your chest at how easy it was for you to get him off. Pleasure drenched his expression, gray irises blooming with bliss and contentment. He pressed his lips against yours briefly before you curled into bed beside him. The two of you sat in silence, listening to the rain. 

Karl cleared his throat slightly. "If we do that enough times, do you think we'd get horny whenever there's a storm?" 

You furrowed your brows. "What, like you want me to Pavlov you?" 

"Yeah."

There was a beat of silence as you fought how to respond to his question. "It'd be interesting to be in your head for a day," you opted. 

Tags:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit

#karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x reader #edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #dsmp smut #college au karl jacobs #karl jacobs headcanons #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs x y/n

[yamagucji]

some tips for writing blogs, especially those who are just starting out. these are some things that works for me and may or may not work for others.

how to add a read more link on mobile

type :readmore: on a free space, then hit the enter or return button

personally i think they’re very helpful because it lessens the space you take up in your dash, and might encourage more people to rb

+ you can also add this on a spot where it gives a sort of cliffhanger, essentially making people want to ‘read more’

headers, banners, and dividers

though not necessary, it’s good to have a title for your work. make sure it’s bold and doesn’t blend in with your notes (aka pairing, warnings, etc.). this also helps when someone wants to look up one of your works in your search bar

i don’t really make banners or covers for my works. but some good apps that i know of would be picsart and canva. if you’re looking for ideas, i definitely recommend going into canva

wondering how to make those really small, thin dividers? you can make them using picsart! to make a divider hit tools > free crop > brush > size (adjust it to your preference > then draw a line along the edge of your photo > save

using the divider you just saved, go back to picsart and edit it again > draw option > hit rainbow square at the bottom left corner > hit suction/droplet symbol right below the check mark > color in the white spots bc for some reason picsart glitches and makes dividers look white-ish

new blog? just opened an account?

this is gonna sound really frustrating. but... tumblr needs to check if you’re a bot or not. what does this mean? it’s likely that your first few posts won’t show up on the search bar. you may not even get to edit your header/pfp yet ://

this happened to me and there was no visibility on my account at ALL. what helped me get ‘verified’ is that i followed a LOT of accounts, liked a bunch of posts, made some posts here and there. now that lets tumblr know you’re not a bot

visibility

the tumblr tagging system usually only allows the first 5 tags in your post to show up. so, what can do you about this? only use FIVE or less tags in your post. wait about 15 minutes or more until you can add some more tags in your post, and they usually all show up like that

another important thing about using tags is not to generalize! especially if you’re using a popular tag. but also don’t specify it too much where barely anyone looks it up. for example, if you’re writing a gn piece about oikawa, i recommend you use the tags such as: oikawa x reader, haikyuu x reader, oikawa x gn!reader, haikyuu headcanons, etc

a good rule of thumb is to use character x reader tags first, then leave the full name or fandom tag last

FOR NSFW: tumblr doesn’t let any tags with nsfw show up. so, give your nsfw works another tag. maybe #namegetspicy idk, you figure it out

FOR WARNINGS: especially if you’re a dark content creator, i highly encourage you to add tw:xyz tags. if you already have a warning note at the top then that’s great. but even better for readers who prefer to actually block these tags that way they never get to see it

another important thing to note is that people have different timezones. it helps if you rb your work at a different time of the day, in case people missed it! (icymi) i’ve noticed that reblogging helps to make your post show up in the tags

interaction + feedback

first and foremost, you are not obligated to write for your followers, and neither are your followers obligated to interact with you. remember that everyone has their own individual lives, and they have their own things to do— so do you, too.

make friends! become mutuals with other writers, visit their ask box. i know it can be daunting having to initiate these things, but you might just turn out to have fun! you can’t expect people to interact with you if you’re not interacting (back). it’s... kind of a two way thing yk? no need to be afraid to interact with other writers. oh, and rb other writers works!

pspsps join tag games or do ask games. it’s fun and very interactive

it never hurts to ask for feedback. i usually do this in a more subtle way because i don’t really expect a full on analysis on my works. maybe a little, is this okay? or feedback appreciated. sometimes it takes a little bit of coaxing for the silent readers

formatting your posts and blog

i generally put in the title at the top in big, bold letters

then comes the header/divider. helps to make the post more... visually appealing ig?

it’s important to add warnings (if any) and the pairing. the audience is not all female, and it might be a little frustrating for male readers having to find out its an x fem reader piece like halfway through your fic

if you have multiple works posted, it’s really really helpful to have a navigation page!

you can organize the posts you make with tags! for example, if you’re shitposting, you can use a specific tag for that. if you have a nsfw related post (ESPECIALLY when your blog is open to the general audience) please make a tag for it

themes + colors

if you have a color in mind but don’t know which direction to go from there, i recommend looking up color + aesthetic

looking to use the same color? download a name color app that’ll give you a hex code for any color you want to use. then, you can type in that hex code for when you’re choosing a color for your tumblr bio

wondering how to make your header image small like mine? just choose a photo for your header and turn off the stretch image option

want to use a different text color that tumblr doesn’t offer? it’s not as complicated as you think. you’ll have to go on a desktop to do this and do some html (but trust me, it’s not very difficult). look up “HTML noob but trying my best - how to use colored text on desktop”

^^ i don’t have the link for the color text tutorial so you can try looking it up

how to make an aesthetic navi and masterlist

step 1: decide a theme! if you’re stuck, think about a character + color/season/mood or look up “[insert] aesthetic” to find some inspiration. or you can try looking at other blogs too

step 2: find a color scheme! it’s easier if you choose fewer colors. if you want to use the same color for both divider and text, download a color name app in order to get the hex code of that color.

step 3: add categories to your navi! most navigation pages include a link to masterlist, about/byi, and rules. your navi should have a title that indicates that it’s... a navigation page. you can add thin colored dividers with the same color to make it easier for followers to navigate

step 4: you can choose to create a ‘cover’ or a picture for your navigation and masterlist! again, i recommend you use the canva app as a starting point

extra: search up emoticon symbols to spice up your titles!

reminder for you as a writer

you’re not obligated to do any of these things. i’ve noticed that we tend to build pressure on ourselves when it comes to content and interaction. remember, this !! is !! for !! fun !! when you realize that it’s no longer fun, then know that it’s time to take a break. and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of self care.

^^ c/p from this post lol

at the end of the day, follower count and interaction doesn’t define you. again for the love of beings, you’re here on your own accord.

will be adding more if needed/asked.

#cupid; talks! #cueuepid

[radiorenjun]

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

[sweetestlamb]

Call My Name

Summary: “I don’t know what to do I think I’m falling for you.” 

Author's Note: Back with my longest update for this story, almost 10k!! I have only written that much for a chapter for IOTNBO, I’m so proud and excited. It’s thanks to many of you who have been messaging me to let me know how much you appreciate my story and those of you who are making artwork in any capacity based on my story, I am honored thank you!! I battled a lot with the ending but finally I just went with my gut, the characters wanted to act this way and who am I to fight it? I hope you enjoy and I will see you again in the next chapter! Amazing header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl every time I see it I can’t help but smile. Thank you endlessly. 

She checks the time on her phone again, for no particular reason just curious about how much time has passed since she last checked. Five minutes. Interesting, she'll make sure to check again to see if her hypothesis is correct, that time seems to move slower in Ju-Kyung's house it feels as if they have been sitting here for hours yet her phone is displaying something completely different and there has to be a scientific explanation for that.

"You acted like you didn't want him to have your phone number but now you won't stop checking your phone." Su-ah teases across the room, hanging upside with her feet on the wall as her fingers move across her own endlessly buzzing phone. She's not jealous about that, not at all.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was just checking the time." She replies coolly pushing the phone away from her with complete disinterest. 

She states blankly back at twin penetrating stares of disbelief, rolling her eyes she lowers her head onto the table picking at the skin on her index finger.

"I told you to stop doing that!" Ju-Kyung admonishes grabbing her hands and halting her abuse, they are hideous to look at the skin peeling all over no amount of lotion can rectify the damage she's done. They are one of the reasons she loves winter, she has a bounty of gloves to hide them from view. Self-consciously she tries to twist them away, they look even worst next to the soft plush skin of Ju-Kyung, who consistently moisturizes the appendages.

"Just leave them. They're ugly anyway."

The other girl ignores her bringing out the hand cream she's seen so many times, she simply sighs when the thick lotion is rubbed into her brittle skin. They both know that this is pointless because she'll soon wash away any benefits but Ju-Kyung is always persistent and she's given up on fighting with her. With a light pat and triumphant hum, Ju-Kyung releases her.

"There. Don't they look beautiful?"

They don't. Out of all the things she hates about herself and that lists grows more abundant everyday, her hands are high on the list. They make her feel hideous and as if anything she touches will also lose its beauty. A twisted nightmare inducing Midas touch.

She doesn't reply beyond shoving them into the pocket of her blazer.

"Su-jin?" Su-ah calls from behind her, sounding more serious than she's used to. She tightens in anticipation, barely turning her head.

"Are you okay? I've been giving you space but I want to know what's wrong. What happened at school?"

Her chest constricts painfully, she's not ready for this conversation possibly will never be but if she refuses will they shut her out? Will she be abandoned? Fear rushes through her veins at the very idea of being without them.

She forces herself to speak, "I...its-- what....I"

The words are lodged in her throat choking her until it's hard to breathe, she starts wheezing and then she's wrapped up in a tight hug, her last bit of oxygen squeezed from her body.

"Shhhh. It's okay. We love you, don't cry." Su-ah coos at her, stroking her head and mumbling soothing words into her ear. Ju-Kyung wipes away ardent tears she hadn't realized had fallen, her smooth hands soft on Su-jin’s wet skin.

"I can't. I'm sorry, not yet. Please don't go." For once she says exactly what's in her heart, people leave that's her reality but not them, she can't lose them death would be easier. So she begs tightening her once limp arms around Su-ah's small waist, clinging to the other girl like a weeping child. Her father has stolen everything she's ever loved from her, they couldn’t be another casualty.

"We're not going anywhere. We love you, no matter what. Nothing could change that."

She allows Su-ah to rock her back and forth, deep in her heart she knows those words aren't true, feelings change and once they figure out her secret, this love will fade and they'll grow apart; pity is the kiss of death. Once they know how truly pathetic she is they won't be able to look at her, she'll just be a broken doll that needs to be fixed.

"We love you."

Sure, but for how long?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Becoming Sujin's friend wasn't easy she can remember the day she first saw the abnormally beautiful girl, she looked like a character out of a Korean drama with her perfect round face and effortless style. She'd simply stared in awe, too dazed to approach the other girl. When they crossed paths in the hallway she watched the other girl intently, she decided in that moment they had to be friends.

It was like destiny, they ended up in the same class and she started to follow the other girl around smiling warmly every time those cool eyes would look at her in question. She sat near her in the cafeteria and greeted her every morning, yet she was no closer to becoming her friend still skirting the edge of acquaintance.

Then one day out of the blue for the first time the other girl approached her, her face expressionless but the air around her was frigid. She gulped watching her draw nearer until they were face to face.

"What do you want from me?" She blinked at the unexpected question, rolling it over in her mind and still not coming up with an answer.

"What?" Was her eloquent reply, she was finally having a conversation with her dream friend and she couldn't get her thoughts together.

"You're always following me. Do you want something from me?"

She thought it was blatantly obvious what she desired from the other girl but she smiled before replying, "Friendship. I want to be your friend."

She'd never seen the other girl look confused before, her eyes got wider and her lips almost disappeared from how tightly she was twisting her mouth.

"Why?"

Her first reaction was to laugh because it sounded like a joke, who wouldn't want to be Sujin's friend she was one of the smartest and prettiest girls in the school but something about the look on her face told Su-ah those answers wouldn't suffice. The other girl was peering at her with deep searching eyes, waiting for her response.

Shrugging she didn't overthink her reply, choosing not to list the many reasons and going with the most basic, "I like you."

It was her first platonic confession, she almost blushed at the words and the potential misunderstandings but Sujin simply looked at her before walking away without another word. She sighed thinking she'd scared the other girl away, walking home crestfallen.

But the next day, Sujin said good morning to her first for the first time ever and they walked to class and as they say the rest was history, they became each other's confidant and best friend. Sujin, the first person to know about her crush on Tae-hoon, always there to wipe her tears after their countless break ups.

Su-jin is like a sister and that is why her breakdown feels even worst, she doesn't know what's going on, has never seen her best friend cry before. Su-jin isn't one to be open about her emotions, her smiles are as elusive as her tears. So her heart aches as Sujin shakes in her arms, wishing she knew what was hurting the girl this deeply so she could rescue her.

"I'll go wash my face." She's reluctant to let the other girl go but she knows the intricacies of her brilliant mind, knows that she's embarrassed and mentally ripping herself apart. Unwrapping her arms she lets her go, tears pooling in her eyes watching her friend suffer. 

Quickly brushing the moisture away she turns to Ju-Kyung who isn't faring much better, dark mascara lines dripping down her cheeks. She laughs sadly wiping at the marks with her thumbs before pulling her fingers back and wiping them on her jacket.

"I'm sorry I'm crying, I know we need to be strong for her." Ju-Kyung apologizes but more stubborn tears rolls down her face and she hugs her tightly, needing the comfort herself.

"You're allowed to cry. We'll be there for her until she's ready to tell us what's wrong."

They nod and hug each other weeping for their friend who so solemnly weeps for herself.

It shocks them both when a loud vibration penetrates the silence of the room, the noisy disturbance makes them jump apart before they both glance at the phone on the table before looking at each other.

"Do you think it's...."

"What if it's.."

They speak at the same time and that's the exact moment that the door creaks open and Sujin arrives with red-rimmed eyes her hair now pulled back in a low ponytail.

Su-ah looks at the phone with wide eyes before looking at Sujin, then back to the phone before smiling innocently, "You should check the time."

Sujin doesn't react at first, standing completely still before she takes a hesitant step forward as if the phone has transformed into a bomb. Gingerly lifting it up she wipes go unlock the screen, trying to look unbothered her movements exaggeratedly slow. Su-ah sees right through her, sees the way her fingers twitch and how she takes a deep breath before opening the message.

She watches Sujin's face for a reaction, a smile or frown but there's no reaction until she huffs and throws the phone away with a sharp whisper, "That idiot. What the hell is that?"

Without asking for permission, they know each other's passwords there isn't much privacy between the three of them, she picks up the discarded phone, eyes bulging at the message before she starts to giggle. It was exactly who they thought and his first message to her is an image and the words, saw this and thought of you.

She grins at the message, wondering if Seojun knows how flirty the message reads. He'd openly let Sujin know that she was on his mind. She'd spontaneously decided to save Sujin under that name in his phone Ju-Kyung had told her about their interesting conversation and the pet name, then he used it again at the gate and she couldn't resist. What girl didn't like being called a princess?

"If he calls me that one more time I'm going to break his motorcycle." She winces at the threat, shifting her eyes. Okay, it seemed there was one girl.  She needs to tell Seojun to never mention to Sujin that she was the one to save her under "princess" she had helped him get her number after all, they were practically friends now. He couldn’t throw her under the bus. 

"Are you going to answer?" He wants to know if you want him to buy it for you." She giggles at the new message gasping when Sujin snatches the phone from her hands, she looks over at Ju-Kyung with a raised eyebrow at the show. They both watch with conspiring smiles as the commonly emotionless girl angrily throws herself into the bed and starts animatedly tapping on her screen.

She's never looked more alive.

It's the universe righting itself when she hears Ju-Kyung's mother yell up the stairs.

"Ju-Kyung, tell your friend Su-jin her father is here to pick her up."

Ju-Kyung's mother says the words upbeat, mumbling about doting fathers and harshly hitting her husband on the back of his head as she wonders to the kitchen. She schools her face into a plastic smile, despite the fear gripping at her and making it hard to focus. But she can't show any cracks in her display today, too much has happened and she can't allow anyone to be suspicious. They have to believe that her father is a loving man who picks up his daughter out of the goodness of his heart.

He almost looks normal smiling serenely in the doorway, even lifting a hand to wave at her. Cold ice chills run down her spine at the terrifying action.

"Why didn't you tell your mother and I you were going to a friend's house? We were worried sick about you."

She can hear the threat coded in those words, how dare you go anywhere without my permission, she rushes to his side knowing every minute she wastes he will punish her for. She'd inconvenienced him by making him pick her up. He would make her regret that decision.

Bowing to Ju-Kyung and her family, avoiding Su-ah's watchful eyes she rapidly puts on her shoes watching as her father bows as well thanking Ju-Kyung's parents for allowing her to stay so late and when they turn he grips her tightly all but dragging her out the door. His coat blocks the treatment from view and she grunts when he swings the car door open and tosses her roughly inside.

Slamming his door shut he glares over at her, "Do you know how hard it was finding this dirty shit hole of a house? Are you befriending anyone now? This is the kind of person you've deemed worthy of being seen with, you're a Kang for God's sake!"

She swallows her angry, desperately wanting to defend Ju-Kyung but his hands curled tightly in fists make her stifle her argument. Instead she bows her head quietly, letting him spew acid dripping words at her.

"You're not allowed to come here again. My daughter can't be seen with the help."

She anxiously claws at her hands in her lap, jumping when he yells in the confined space of the car.

"Answer me now! Do you understand!"

Staring out the window she replies, voice empty.

"Yes."

He doesn't wait for her to tug on her seat belt before driving off, done talking to her since she listened to his order.

When they finally walk through the front door she flinches when he grabs her arm suddenly, he rolls his eyes as if she's being dramatic. Seeming to get gratification from pressing his fingers deeper into her skin, she grits her teeth through it all.

"Don't flinch like that around others or I'll make you regret it. Tomorrow you are going on a date with a son of a very powerful man, make sure you hide all your bruises."

This time she can't stay silent, rage bursting to the surface.

"I don't want to go on a date with anyo--"

The smack of his open palm across her forehead drives her entire head to the side, her neck snapping so hard she imagines this is what it feels like to have whiplash.

"You shut your fucking mouth! Did it look like I was asking you a question? You will go on this date." His voice is hard and impenetrable, when her mother limps out with a black eye she gasps in shock unprepared for the gruesome sight.

Mom.

"Look what you made me do to your mother. You better start obeying me again or things will get worst."

She's been selfish, she is knew what would happen to her mother when she didn't come home, knew that her father's fury would need an outlet but she couldn't bring herself to come here. Knowing what her fate would be didn't make her any else scared.

"You need to listen to your father."

She can't bear to look her mother in the eyes, she's been thrown to the wolves too many times to feel true sympathy for the woman who gave birth to her. They are both victims, that much she knows but she can't help the anger that has been present since she was young begging her mother to save her.

She knows now, nobody can save anyone else. If you can't save yourself you're as good as dead.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He knows he can't be upset with Ju-Kyung or Su-ah, they are unaware of what their friend is going through but dread fills his stomach when Ju-Kyung tells him that Sujin was no longer there, her father had picked her up.

He slams a fist into his pillow, wanting nothing more to smash the man's face in he's never seen the bastard before but he knows that he would hate him on sight. He was a coward and a bully and he could not stand those who picked on others, they were the scum of the earth.

He sends her another unanswered text message reading her last message to him.

Delete my number, I don't want to talk to you.

She hadn't been amused by the sparkly purple tiara, he'd seen it on display in a children's store and immediately her regal scowl popped up in his mind. He hadn't thought about it before snapping a photo and sending it to her. That had been hours ago and still nothing from her after a heated debate about whether or not she was a princess. 

Sighing in exasperation he sends another message.

Let me know if you're okay.

He's sent five other unread messages, all variations of this message worry making him break all his rules about texting the opposite gender.

He glares at the phone as if it's to blame, tossing himself onto this bed and dragging a pillow across his face to groan into.

Almost choking on the cloth of his pillow he shoves it away when his phone finally vibrates on his stomach, eagerly opening it he smiles at the message on the screen.

I'm okay.

She's lying, he's certain of that he's seen the bruises first-hand without makeup lessening the effect. But she's cognizant enough to send him a message and despite the hell she must be going through she cared enough about him worrying to reply, something unfamiliar flutters in his belly. He writes it off as indigestion and flops into his pillow before sending his final message to her.

I’ll see you tomorrow, princess. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He's wondering the halls aimlessly sneering at everyone who looks his way, he doesn't mean to be this moody really didn't mean to snap at Chorong but he can't help it, Sujin is absent her empty seat mocking him in class so he had to escape. He's lost count at the amount of messages he's sent at this point, none of them have been read. He growls at the radio silence, he hates being ignored and when she's the one doing the ignoring his frustration only builds. He doesn't bother analyzing why.

"You look ready to kill the next person who stares at you the wrong way."

He glances at the near monotonous tone behind him, turning to face Suho. He doesn't know how the other boy was allowed to leave the classroom when he currently has the hall pass but rules are usually broken for the star student, he scoffs at the privilege. Nobody ever calls him a troublemaker though. 

"Being a brainiac sure comes with perks." He drawls leaning against the wall.

Suho guiltlessly shrugs, crossing his forearms before grabbing his arm. He doesn't fight the grip allowing himself to be pulled, maybe this will distract him from his thoughts.

"Where are we going?"

Suho doesn't answer but he drags him up the stairs leading to the rooftop, he's instantly reminded of the last time he was here. Her tears warming his chest as she shook apart in his arms. He mentally groans, he’s supposed to be forgetting her why can’t he get her out of his mind?

"You know don't you?" Suho gently states, letting his arm fall between them and staring at him with sure eyes. He peers back squinting in response, uncertain if the other boy is truly alluding to what he thinks. He doesn't say a word, Sujin would never forgive him if he uttered her secret to anyone, he'd never betray her trust regardless of if she's fully given that to him.

"Know what?" He states slowly , watching his friend’s every move.

"About her father."

A deer caught in headlights, if you looked up that saying his face would be the accompanying image.

Forcing his jaw close, he shakes his head staring at Suho suspiciously.

"You knew."

Suho must feel his judgement because his face hardens before he looks away, "I did."

"Why didn't you do anything?" It's not his place but he can't help his vexation, how long had the other boy known and done nothing?

"We were......young. I slept over, I fell asleep on the couch and I heard him. The next morning she had a split lip and her father told me she accidentally fell down the stairs."

Disgusts winds through his chest at the story, this had been her life since she was a child. While he'd been mourning the loss of his own father, Sujin was being beaten and abused by her own. They were both fatherless.

"I felt guilty every day. I didn't know who to tell, her father was close friends with my dad and I didn't think he would believe me and...... I hated him. After my mom died I hated him so much. I didn't want to ask him for help."

He wants to scream, "What about Sujin? Couldn't you see her pain? Wasn't that enough to put your pride aside?"

But he doesn't because it won't do Sujin any good and Suho has been through his own trauma, he learned that his words have power and despite his anger he doesn't want to hurt his friend, never again.

"It's not your fault." He means it, they were both children. But he just wishes that Sujin had someone back them, that she knew that what was happening wasn't her fault. He just wishes he'd been there.

But he can't turn back time, no matter how desperately he wants to. All he can do is treasure the time he has now.

Her knows what he needs to do.

"I need a favor."

Suho stares at him before slowly nodding.

But not before asking his own question, "Why do you care so much?"

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The question spins around in circles in his head, no answer offering itself.

"Do you..... like her?" Suho cautiously inquires searching his face to see if he gives anything away. He doesn't try to hide his emotions.

"That's not important. She needs someone, I've decided to be that person."

The other boy looks at him like he's a puzzle he can't figure out but he nods as if that answer is enough. He'll store that question away for further inspection on his own.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There's no guarantee that this will work but he stands awkwardly on the sidewalk peering up at the intimidating mansion, it makes his own apartment look like a child's toy. Inadequacy pricks at his ego before he shoves it to the crevice of his mind, this isn't about him.

The driveway is empty that was a good sign. He hadn't thought ahead to what he would do if her father had been home, he wouldn't be able to control his rage. It's a blessing that he won't have to make that decision today.

Pulling out his phone he stares at her number before pressing the call button. It rings and rings and he's sure she's going to ignore him as she's been doing all day, he moves to hang up and call her back when he hears silence and then a quiet, "Why do you keep calling?"

He lets out a sigh of triumph, punching a fist into the air.

Collecting himself he states breezily into the phones, "When people call someone they usually have something to say princess."

Her reaction is immediate, "I told you not to call me that."

"I remember when you told me." He replies cheekily, unable to fight the smile that grows hearing her annoyance permeating through the line, just happy to hear her voice at all. 

"Then why do you keep calling me that?" She tightly replies, sounding like she could turn a coal into a diamond in her mouth.

"It suits you."

"Why? Because I'm rich and spoiled?"

"No. Because you're pretty." He hears himself say, wondering if he's been possessed because he's thought that before looking at the girl he was still a man and he had eyes but he's never planned on saying his inner thoughts out loud.

It takes a moment to realize she hasn't responded, scared she finally hung up he cries out, "Hey! Are you still there?"

Another long pause drags out and he becomes really worried that she's gone after taking so long to get her to answer, maybe everyone's right and he's an idiot.

"Don't say stupid things like that." There's something about her voice, it sounds higher than he's used to and he wonders if maybe she's embarrassed. Maybe even blushing. He'd pay real money to see that sight.

Not wanting to push his luck any further he powers on, resisting the urge to ask if she's blushing. She wouldn't be honest with him anyway.

"Come outside I have something for you."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She contemplates what she should do as she peers down at her phone. His name and number flash on her phone as the phone locks itself. She'd begrudgingly saved his number when it became clear that he had no intention of leaving her alone. Nobody besides Su-ah had ever texted her this frequently, she was earning scarily that she didn't hate it. Although she hardly replied, not knowing how to maintain a text conversation. 

Su-ah had teasingly said she should save the boy as prince, so that they could match. She rolled her eyes at the suggestion, Su-ah was so cheesy sometimes they weren't a couple why would they need matching names? Instead she'd saved him as "do not answer" but she'd already broken that rule, she realized appalled at her lack of control.

Losing more control she sighs before crawling out of bed, not bothering to put on makeup to hide the mark on her forehead, he had seen worst. Her father left after taking her to the doctor, regaling another story of her clumsiness and they walked out with cream, powerful enough to ensure that no scar would be left behind. Nobody wanted scarred goods he explained.

The closer she gets to the door the faster her heart beats, how did he know where she lived? They had never discussed that and why did he come all the way here? Didn't he have anything better to do than stalk her? Taking a calming breath she reaches the front door, she can hear her frantic heart beats thumping in her ears.

She turns the door knob, pausing at the sight of his back. The sun is shining brightly outside, the direct opposite of her gloomy dark home. It was a sin for the day to be this beautiful when her life is so damn ugly. With the sun streaking his hair hues of dark brown he turns to face her.

She feels uncomfortable at the rush on emotions that bleeds across his face.

"Don't."

He looks at her quizzically, perplexed by her strange seemingly unprovoked request.

"Just don't.. emote so much."

Of course he doesn't listen, a smile stretching across his face as he steps closer to her. Reaching out with gentle fingers he brushes against the bandage on her forehead.

"Are you okay?"

He’s always asking her that. 

She doesn't feel like lying at the moment, not with his gentle hands and soft eyes beaming at her.

She mutely shakes her head in decline. She doesn't miss how he freezes as if shocked by her honesty. He's not the only one.

"Is that why you didn't come to school?" His voice is barely a whisper now, as if they're sharing a secret only for their ears.

It's a question that doesn't need an answer so she chooses not to respond.

"What did you want to give me?" She breaks the moment, taking a step back until his fingers fall from her skin.

He stares at her for a moment before leaning forward, dangerously close and she tries to retreat but her feet are stuck to the floor as she watches his face get closer to her own. His hands reach over her shoulder and she tilts her head up to follow him, as he lowers his head and her heart skips as realization washes over her, he's going to kiss her. His lips are right there, supple and pink looming closer as her own drop open in surprise and....anticipation? She registers that he's going to kiss her and she might want him to. No. She does, she never knew she wanted this so ardently until it was just a breath away. And now she can't think of anything else but his lips on hers.

She's never been kissed before, never wanted to be either. In second grade and unlucky boy had tried to force a kiss on her, chasing her around the playground puckering his lips and tugging at her skirt. He'd only been able to kiss the sole of her shoe has she launched into a perfectly executed round house kick, shocking him more than hurting him but she'd been placed in time out for a week with no playtime or recess, she had felt no remorse. All the other boys who used to eye her with interest now looked terrified after that incident, no one ever tried to steal a kiss from her again.

She waits for her body's natural defense to kick in and for that itch under her skin to buzz, but it never comes because she doesn't feel unsafe. Knows that he won't hurt her despite her constant dismissal here he is, once again demanding a space in her sham of life. Instead of fear, nerves ravages her body as she  pants loudly staring at his mouth only inches away. Is she allowed to want? She's never had the luxury before to desire such trivial things, it overwhelms her. Shocked by her own thinking and the dawning of feelings she didn't ask to have, she scurries backwards covering her mouth with her hands. Now that she knows that she desires this, she can't have it. She can't taint him with her darkness.

"What are you doing?"

He's smirking with a bag now in his hand intensely watching her and she feels transparent, he's looking straight through her and urge to hide is overbearing.

Turning around she sees his motorcycle and she almost laughs at her unnecessary mental break down.

He hadn't been trying to kiss her. That was merely a fantasy she created in her mind, whatever this was it wasn't romantic. Who could want something as broken and worthless as her, but more importantly her life was not her own to do what she desired. She was an object in her father's plan, a pawn that he could move as he saw fit. It was a mistake to yearn or even ponder, her fate had been decided long before she was born. 

She shouldn't be here, should have never read his message or saved his number she's playing a dangerous game and in the end she'll be the one most damaged. She turns away, rushing to the door no longer curious about his gift. Curiosity is a privilege she isn't allowed.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He grabs her wrist, not scared to touch today. Her body is burning from all the spots he's already set aflame since he arrived.

"Let go!" She tugs her arm away and he sets her free at her barest resistance, but he leaves no space between towering over her and refusing to let her break eye contact. His cologne is distracting. Everything about him is.

"What were you expecting?" She fights the urge to blush as he glances down at her lips before focusing on her eyes.

"Nothing. I wasn’t expecting anything.” She will ensure that she doesn’t in the future, it’s not a lie but rather an oath to herself. 

He stares at her unblinking, its unnerving and she squirms under the hard appraisal. 

“Don’t you want to see your gift?” She shakes her head no, but it seems the question was rhetoric because he doesn’t wait for her answer or acknowledge when she refuses.  

“I told you this reminded me of you.” He purrs softly, she’s never heard his voice like this. It’s so soft that it can barely be considered a whisper, he always acts like she is something fragile. She doesn’t know how to feel about it. 

There's a rustle of a bag opening and then a weight on her head, reaching up she feels hard plastic and ridges and bumps. She knows what it is and she doesn't know how to respond, nothing has ever prepared her for this moment. She’d hidden it well while sitting in Ju-Kyung’s room looking at the child’s tiara, pretended to be annoyed to cover up the way her skin was sticky hot and sweaty. 

When she was younger she had wanted a princess birthday party, with all the trimmings and decorations her eyes sparkled as she told her parents still full of hope and innocence then, believing that she could have anything she wanted if she asked. Her father’s guffaw had shattered that fantasy. 

“We will not have a childish gathering, very important people will be there. You are not going to embarrass me.” 

In the end there was no theme to her birthday and she didn’t get to wear the sparkling tiara she’d seen so many other little girls don on their birthday, she had no friends to invite and she sat alone and abandoned in her room. 

And now, years later there is almost an identical replica sitting on her head. She sniffles looking hard at the ground, blinking rapidly but knowing it’s already too late. 

“I told you to stop. Why won’t you listen? Just stop.” She’s crying now, there’s no way to hide the tears barreling down her cheeks. He looks taken back, hands reaching out for her and then dropping before reaching again. 

“Sujin.”

Hearing him say her name instead of the persistent nickname only makes her sob harder, crying for the younger version of herself that just wanted to be loved and was beaten everyday instead. Wishing that Sujin had this, had someone who was willing to stay, who wanted to be there. She wouldn’t have dealt with such crippling loneliness. 

“I have to go back inside.” She turns to unlock her door, scared of him and everything building between them. 

He doesn’t stop her this time, she can feel his eyes heavy on her back and she halts when he calls out. 

“Just.....don’t ignore my messages okay?”

She inhales, wiping at the wet sheet of tears on her face. She should ignore him, he is “do not answer” for a reason. 

She nods slowly, “I won’t.” The scariest part is that she means it. 

“Good. Come to school tomorrow, it’s boring without you.” 

She doesn’t reply and closes the door without turning back, using it has support when her legs finally give out inside. All of her strength suddenly depleted. 

She walks straight to her room, sitting at her large vanity looking back at a reflection of a girl she can't recognize.

The purple tiara sits ridiculously on top of her head, all flashy plastic rhinestones and glitter, something out of a child's dream. Her dream.  She brings one trembling finger to touch it and without her permission her face breaks into a smile, it's small and fleeting but accompanied with the rosy blush on her cheeks she stares in shock at the face that looks so much like her but can't be.

"Who are you?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Seojun slips on his helmet roughly, he plans on texting her and making sure she keeps her promise. His heart is still recovering from her reaction to retrieving the gift, it was apparent she assumed something else was occurring. It almost looked like she thought he was going to kiss her but she hadn’t moved away, not right away. Did that mean..... 

The engine of a sounds behind him shocks him out of his dangerous inklings and he twists his head to see sleek SUV pulling into the hidden garage, the metallic door lifting up to house the vehicle. He doesn’t move, eyes locked on the car. Hands tightening on the armbars he waits impatiently but determined. When the door finally opens and an older man steps out, shorter than him with salt and pepper hair and glasses on his weathered face his blood boils all at once. 

“Can I help you? Do you have business here?” 

Taking a deep grounding breath, he slides a leg over his motorcycle and revs it to life the rumbling engine calming his homicidal thoughts. 

He will never forget this face, he looks like a normal middle-aged man nothing revealing the evil that lurks inside. Menacingly he slowly raises his hand, extending his pointer and lifting his thumb, darkly satisfied when a look of surprise flashes on the older man's face.

"Bang." He pulls back his finger sharply, and now the man is walking angrily towards him but he's ready for this and he twists the throttle and speeds off.

You're not going to hurt her anymore, I'll make sure if it.

The bike thundering beneath him echoes the powerful intent in his mind.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Her father’s pounding on her door shocked her so much the tiara fell off her head as she jolted, she'd carefully picked it up and hid it in a draw fiercely protective of the object already. She knew she shouldn’t keep it but she can’t imagine throwing it away. 

Just for a little bit. 

"You're meeting someone tomorrow, you'll go right after school. Stop at a store and buy an outfit, something fitting for a date. His father is someone I need on my side, don't mess this up."

She'd sat numb at her father's callous words, he clearly had no issue using his only child to gain favors from others.

"Oh and one more thing, I saw some delinquent outside he even threatened me. You better not know who that punk is. If I ever see him around here again I'll call the police."

That comment has been replaying in her mind all day, he shouldn't have come over yesterday and she shouldn't have humored him by going outside. She kept forgetting rationality around him and it would get them both in danger, her father had all but promised that.

After some careful consideration, she decides to seek him out because school is the safest place they can interact without her father knowing.

He's not in the classroom and she tries to think about where else the boy might be, he's usually never too far from her and she realizes that she hasn't seen him today besides their morning classes. He'd seemed distant then, barely looking at her before drooping off to sleep.

After searching the entire school she's no closer to finding the boy and she sighs in exasperation, why is he so elusive today when she commonly can't get him to leave her alone?

Pulling out her phone, she hesitates for a second before mustering the courage.

Where are you?

Staring at the message she clicks the heel of her shoe, watching the message change from delivered and to read. Her stomach clenches as she waits to see his response, maybe he's already tired of her and finally decided to listen to her advice?

Hating the way her heart thumps in anticipation she moves to pocket her phone but before she can complete the movement, it vibrates to life in her hand.

She freezes.

It's foolish because she sent the first message and she's looking for him but now she's too nervous to check her phone.

Thinking of the soothing beating of his heart on that day, she feels her own heart calming.

Feeling fortified, she lifts the phone and with a sigh opens the message.

In the gym. Why? You miss me?

Is this what this emotion is? This gnawing feeling in her chest when she couldn't find him, it can't be right? They are nothing to each other, correction she's nothing to him.

So no, she can’t miss him. 

She clears her thoughts as she walks to the gym, wondering why she never considered looking there.

Sweat and musk clings in the air when she presses the double doors open and all eyes shift to her instantly, slipping on her mask she suppresses the nerves lurking behind her placid stare.

Meeting his eyes across the room, she can't help but notice how sweaty he looks his fringe sticking to his forehead and a droplet rolls down his forearm. Swallowing deeply she closes the gap between them, peering up at him. Discomforted at the way she feels when he slowly smiles at her.

"We need to talk." She doesn't wait for his answer, grabbing his wrist and tugging him from the room. Pretending she doesn't feel all the eyes watching their every movement, everyone needs to just mind their own business.

When they're outside, away from the audience she releases his arm. His heat warming her own cool palm. Suddenly he grabs her hand, twisting them and stroking at the raw shredded skin.

She snatches her hand away harshly, glaring at him. But his angry stare douses her own, a thick vein protrudes from his forehead.

"Did he do this to you? He growls, his fists tightening into balls again.

She stares at him in confusion, unprepared for the level of frustration he's exuding.

Feeling like honestly will be the best thing she shakes her head in decline, "No. I did this to myself."

Disgust. Malice. Contempt. She waits for any of those emotions to cover his face but he's never logical.

"Why?"

Concern. Always genuine concern.

She's never thought of the reason behind her strange compulsion, the desire to wash her hands overwhelming at times.

She's not ready to ponder the psychosis of her actions, not with him and not with herself.

"Did you see my father yesterday?" She changes the topic, regaining control over the conversation before he derails it too far off track.

His lips twists illustrating his displeasure at her obvious attempt to dodge his question but he looks away before replying.

"Yes. After you left, I saw him."

"Did he see your face?"

His eyes dart over her face, as he's searching for an answer to a question only he knows. 

Slowly he drawls, "No. I had my helmet on. He didn't see me."

The same moment she releases a sigh of relief he cheekily asks, "Were you worried about me?"

Staring at his smirking face she feels her anger flare back to life passionately.

“Do you think this is a joke? He can destroy you! Stop acting without thinking about the consequences!” She whispers harshly at him, very aware of their precarious situation in the hallway and how easily rumors can spread in this god forsaken school. 

“You are worried about me.” He looks even more pleased as he nods smugly. 

“Are you insane? Did you listen to a word I said. Seojun, this isn’t a joke!” 

He steps closer, eyes harden sharply like someone flipped a switch. “You don’t need to worry about me. He can’t do anything to me, I’m going to protect you.”

Protect her. No one has ever uttered those words to her, and she lets them wash over her before rejecting them, sneering at him with contempt at his brazen claim she says, “Stop saying nonsense. You need to worry about yourself.” 

She walks away with her heart firmly lodged in her throat. 

I’m going to protect you. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ju-Kyung and Su-ah are disappointed when she tells them that she can’t go with them for tteokbokki but they don’t ask her too many questions, easily believing her lie about going to night classes. She hates lying to them but there’s no way to explain what she’s doing without exposing too much about her father. 

She rushes out of the school thankfully running into no one, not even a certain nosy shadow. He’s shrouded by his friends and girls who swoon at the sight of him looking in disdain she leaves the school, reminding herself this is how it’s supposed to be. 

The boutique is expensive, a store associate greeting her at the door and showing her around immediately as if she can smell the money on her. She couldn’t care less about what she wears and she informs the clerk to choose whatever she thinks is appropriate for a date, the word poisonous on her tongue. It’s her first date and it’s with someone she has no amorous feelings for, someone she has never even met before. She walks out of the store with her uniform folded neatly in a bag as she decided to walk out in the new outfit. The clerk had chosen a soft lilac dress with chiffon ruffles lining the hem and shoulders, paired with a white heels and a matching bag. She allowed it because it felt nothing like her, she would have never chosen this for a date and that made her feel like she got to keep a little bit of herself, he wouldn’t be getting the real her. 

She checks the address on her phone once more, walking to the street corner to hail a cab feeling like she’s off to an execution. 

But that’s when she hears a feminine cry, looking around frantically she sees a young girl across the street surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves, high school boys. They are all laughing and rowdy, seemingly unbothered by the terrified wide gaze of their supposed prey. The cab driver beeps his horn at her impatiently and she ignores it, instinctively making her decision. Running across the street with no thought of her own safety, she smacks away a dirty paw that is reaching out for the trembling girl, her eyes made larger by the huge glasses resting on the bridge of her pert nose. She seems oddly familiar. 

“What are you scum bags doing?” She steps in front of the girl shielding her from their unwanted attention. 

They all cheer and holler, turning to jostle each other as if they have been given a gift. 

With a smarmy smile, one of the boys steps forward pursuing her body with hungry eyes, “Well look here boys, we caught an ever better catch. Look at this sexy little thing.” 

He grabs his palms together as they all shout in agreement and when she feels a hand on her wrist, she twists away pulling herself out her reach and swiftly kicks him in the knee he falls to the ground with a grunt of pain. 

“What the fuck! You bitch!” He curses at her and another boy lunges forward to grab her but she easily ducks out of his reach and punches in in the chest. The other boys watch in clear astonishment, slowly retreating from her with their hands outreached trying to placate her. 

“Hey, hey we’re sorry we were just messing with her. We’re going okay, calm down.” 

But then she feels a hand on her ankle and she turns to dig her sharp heel into the offending hand, his scream of pain ringing pleasantly in her ears. 

“Get out of my sight before I break your face.” 

They all rush to follow her order, picking up their fallen friends on the ground hurling more curses in her direction but leaving with their tails between their legs, pathethic little vermin. 

“Are you okay?” She turns to the younger girl with gentle eyes, looking over her body for any injuries and relaxing when she sees nothing out of place. 

“Ye-s-s.” She stutters out looking at her with something akin to wonder and awe in her eyes, she shifts uncomfortably under the stare. She isn’t anyone’s hero, she just did what anyone would do. 

“Okay. Get home safely. “ She starts to walk away but then a small hand grips her forearm, turning back with curious eyes she looks at the other girl waiting for her to explain. 

“Thank you. This is the second time you’ve saved me.” 

She looks at the other girl in confusion, taking in her face and those glasses and suddenly the memory resurfaces in her mind. The girl’s bathroom and all those jealous girls ganging up on her, breaking her down because she was better than them she hated those people the worst. Bullies that were so insecure that they lashed out and tried to hurt others, she had grown up seeing one her whole life. 

“That was you.”

“You’re always saving me. Thank you so much.’ 

Shaking her head she replies, “I wasn’t the one who saved you that day. It as Ju-Kyung, I only came at the end. You don’t need to thank me.” 

But the other girl ignores her and begins to bow deeply repeating her words of gratitude, she reaches out to bring her back up. 

“Stop. You don’t need to do this.” 

“Do you want to get some coffee?” She blinks at the sudden question, blinking and then staring some more. 

“I just feel so grateful to you, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come. You’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I can do. Please.” 

She checks her watch discretely, there is still some time before her “date” and looking at the round pleading eyes of the girl she feels her resolve weaken, sighing she goes against her good sense and nods. 

“Okay, we can get some coffee. But I have another.....engagement.” She struggles to find the correct word for the sham of a date and settles on that. She would much rather call it a business transaction but that would yield too many questions. 

The young girl beams at her, animatedly dragging her off her excited voice sweet and high as she praises a nearby coffee shop. 

“My Oppa works there, he can give us free coffee!” She states with youthful entitlement evident in her tone, she has no doubt that she will be given what she wants. It must be nice. 

The coffee shop is a quaint spot, she’s never noticed it before despite being in this area before. A bell rings announcing their arrival and they both walk up to the register. 

“Oppa! I’m here!” The girl calls out, leaning easily across the counter with no sense of decency, there are no other customers in the store though so there’s no one to judge her and Sujin finds her behavior oddly cute, she’s quite the ball of energy. 

“Oh, you’re here?” 

A chill runs down her spine. She knows that voice. But it can’t be? 

But life isn’t done making a mockery of her yet because Seojun turns around, coffee pot in his hand looking...interesting in his uniform she takes the image in greedily before forcing her eyes away. 

“Can we have free coffee? This is my unnie Kang Sujin.” 

“Unnie?” They both cry at the same time and the younger girl immediately grabs onto her arm, huge puppy eyes penetrating her face. “Can I call you unnie? You already saved me two times. I feel like you’re my guardian angel.” 

She stands shocked by the girl’s admission but before the words are finished processing in her foggy mind, Seojun shouts out looking murderous “Saved you? Did someone try to bully you again? Who is it? I’ll kill them.” 

Unsure of who she should reply to she just stares at them both like a fish on land. floundering around. They are both such forces of nature. 

“I’m fine Oppa.” She watches the girl roll her eyes as if his behavior is common and something to be peeved about, “These boys were trying to bother me but unnie came and beat them up! It was like something out of a movie, they all ran away crying.” The girl tries to demonstrate the moves waving her arms and legs around wildly, almost knocking the coffee cup from her brother’s hand. 

“Hey!” He yells in warning, moving the hot pot away. “Be careful before you hurt yourself.” 

The younger girl looks chastised for merely a second before she’s announcing she needs to use the bathroom and running off, leaving them alone to stare after her. 

Awkward silence remains in the wake of her departure. 

She’s tempted to run away, he is the last person she wants to see right now. 

“You really did that? For Go-woon ah?” His voice is soft, almost shy. For once he isn’t the same self-assured Seojun she’s used to see, he looks younger and the resemblance between the siblings is uncanny now with him looking at her with the same look of awe, his little sister had just minutes ago. 

“I.....yes I helped her. They were idiots, I did for myself. They were an eye sore.” 

But despite her dismissal, he smiles-toothy and ridiculously charming. It’s almost painful to look at, he shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that. 

She stares at him lost in his smile and when he reaches out to grasp her hand, she doesn’t fight it helplessly leaning closer to meet him over the counter, their eyes are locked as the space between them shortens, their bodies moving as if they’re opposite ends of a magnet. 

“Thank you for helping my sister.” He breathes out, his deep voice smooth and airy suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. He rubs a thumb across the expanse of her hand, and she forgets to be self-conscious and simply enjoys the tender caress. 

“Oppa! Can we get free coffee or not? Why aren’t you making it?” Go-woon’s loud voice shatters the intimate moment as they both fly apart, she moves halfway across the room in her shock. 

Go-woon looks between them both suspiciously, “Did I interrupt something? You both look guilty.” 

“No!” They shout in sync again, Sujin groans realizes that this probably only serves at making them look even more guilty. Go-woon’s mischievous eyes confirm her thoughts. 

“I’ll make your coffee. You can both have a seat.” 

Go-woon starts to walk away to find a table, but she checks her watch again realizing she doesn’t have much time left if she’s going to be on time, she has to leave now. 

“Can I have mine to go? I have to be somewhere and I’m almost late.” 

Then Go-woon chirps in, “Me too oppa! I just realized I have to start a project, I should go home.” 

He stares at them both blankly before shifting his gaze to Sujin, “Where are you going?” He asks finally taking in her outfit, his gaze starting on her face and boldly sliding down her figure. His stare is hot enough to burn. 

Go-woon giggles answering for her, “Oppa look at her, come on. it’s clear she’s going on a date. Boys really don’t know anything.” 

She blanches as how easily the young girl is able to correctly assess the situation, she hadn’t thought it would be that easy to see. 

Seojun’s eyes harden as he turns away, staring at the coffee brewer as it works. He grabs two cups and pours the dark hot liquid in, before adding milk and a syrup and a layer of whipped cream on top. Go-woon hums happily clearly this is her preference as he hadn’t asked her how she wanted her coffee. 

He silently hands the cups to them both. His face is blank and unreadable vast difference from the beatific smile he had blessed her with earlier. She feels as if she has done something wrong, but she has no clue what that is. 

“Go straight home and don’t talk to anyone. Call me when you get home alright?”  

Go-woon is barely listening to him instead she’s happily licking at the thick layer of cream on her cup cooing at the sweetness. 

“Unnie, thank you again. I hope you enjoy your date, I’ll see you at school!” She suddenly has an armful of Go-woon before the girl is bounding out the door with only a “Bye oppa” to her brother thrown over her shoulder. 

“You haven’t said it’s not true yet?” 

She turns back to look at him, tilting her head lightly before sipping from her cup. She’s never had coffee this sweet, but it’s delicious so she takes another sip humming at the flavor. 

He looks away for a moment, his chest expanding deeply before he turns back to her. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Your date. That you have a date, is that true?”

She raises an eyebrow at this straightforwardness, gone in the shy boy she only saw for a minute and this is the Seojun she is familiar with. 

“I didn’t.”  She agrees. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s true. I am going on a date.” 

During the conversation he started wiping down the already pristine counter but at her words his hand freezes and she watches his fist tighten in the wash cloth he ultimately throws it to the side to direct all his focus on her now, no longer nonchalant and unbothered.  

“With who? Do you like him?” 

She laughs meanly at his question, “You’re so naïve to my world. A date is just another business transaction, he is the son of someone my father needs on his side. I’m his peace offering.” 

“What?” He barks loudly, looking like he wants to hurt someone. She can imagine who that person might be. 

“Don’t get attached to me. My life isn’t mine to live.” She says tired of this discussion and all the feelings he has brought to the surface. Lifting her coffee cup she bids him farewell, “Thank you for the coffee.” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to reply, already knows what he’s going to say but he doesn’t understand everything isn’t as black and white as he keeps assuming they are he needed a reality check, so she provided one. 

Once on the sidewalk she checks her phone, she only has twenty minutes to spare. She can’t afford to wait for a cab so she opens the cab service app, entering the address and sighing in relief when the ETA says that she will arrive in fifteen minutes. Accepting the charge and confirming her location she sighs before lowering her phone, waiting. 

But then she feels arms curl around her shoulder, bringing her back into a solid surface she almost fights the sudden embrace until he whispers in the side of her head, “Don’t go.” 

She tries to pull away but he only holds her tighter, his arms are strong as he holds her firmly against his body. His warmth soaks into her skin and the urge to fight melts away as she relaxes into his embrace, he smells like the deep roast he had poured for them and something inexplicably Seojun that can’t be described with mere words. 

“Stop,” She pleads with him, she has to go even if the idea of going on a date with someone else makes her sick to her stomach. 

Someone else. Where did that come from? Did that mean that she wanted to go on a date with Seojun? 

She can’t answer that question, doesn’t want to deal with the reality. 

“No. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. Sujin, don’t go.” 

She shivers as his words curl around her just as warm and tempting as his arms around her shoulders. 

“Why are you doing this?” She demands, her eyes already filling up with tears of frustration she’d convinced herself she had to do this, let herself be used. It was easier this way to listen to her father. But he’s making everything hard and she needs to know why he cares. 

“Why do you care who I go on a date with? Why are you doing this?” She screams into the air, deflating into his arms after her tantrum. Letting him brunt the entirety of her weight, he doesn’t even budge easily holding her up. He shifts his body, bringing his chin onto her head and holding her tighter, leaving no space between them. 

“Isn’t it obvious by now princess?” 

She opens her mouth to berate him, not that damn nickname again. He seriously needed to stop that before she got accustomed to it even now instead of annoyance a foreign emotion rose up inside of her. 

“I told you to stop calling me tha--” 

“I like you.” 

The breath is punched from her lungs and her head swims with his words and she has no retort, no quick rebuttal, nothing. He has left her utterly and devastatedly speechless. 

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #han seojun #kang sujin #Seojin #turning up the heat #I just love straightforward characters #your honor she's his princess #true beauty fix it

[rebloged-content]

Recommended Sanders Sides creators

Marry Christmas, everyone! And a wonderful December day to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, too. Let’s be honest right off the bat, though: I’m only using the date as an excuse to do this list anyways.

So. Throughout the time I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful corner of the sanders sides fandom over here on tumblr, I’ve often found a new creator and wished I’d found them sooner. It kind of makes me wonder who else I might miss. If you do to, here are a few creators I’d love for you to check out. You’ll probably recognize some of the names, if not all, but maybe you’ll find a new favorite creator here?

And to the creators in question, I really love your content. If you’ve made it onto this list, you’ve definitely cause one or two sleepless nights of reading for me, because who needs sleep if I can have this, right? XD Whatever you’ll find written next to your name is the impression you’ve left on me and… Well, just know that you’ve made some days of my life at least a little happier, all of you. And I hope to repay the favor by telling you how much I appreciate you releasing your content into this world… Well, repay the favor at least a little, I suppose.

Let’s begin, then, shall we?

@5am-the-foxing-hour Because this? This is who you go to if you want to read good Janus-content. You are in a mood to read sympathetic Janus? Wanna see the danger noodle just casually interact with other sides? Go to their short stories. I mean, “the cult”? Prime example of how to tell a story with impact in just a few words. 8 paragraphs, but boy did I read that one on repeat. Or “water spray bottle”, this one is fun, short and will make you laugh. An energy drink for the fander heart, so to say.

Then there’s their mafia-au, “there’s more in me than precious metals”. Six are out so far, and I adore every single word of every single part of this. Protective Remus, sassy Janus, angst, comedy relief, destruction, Roman-Remus-sibling-rivalry, braincell Logan, survival instinct Virgil, working together over a common enemy… This fic has it all, believe me. Take your time and read it, because you will read the entire thing in one go once you start. At least I did, and I didn’t even notice.

And their advent writings? Those had me squealing and jumping around in a way I will deny if anyone ever sees it. I don’t even know what else to say, they are fucking fantastic and that’s that.

So, yeah. Go check them out, before I start fangirling about them even more. You know my personal favorites now, so just go there. You won’t regret it.

Next up is @coconut-cluster. Ah, yes, Lexi. Lexi, whose uni-AU started as self indulgent and has become the loceit story on tumblr. We all know her, or at least most of us do, and we all love her too. And while I also drop everything I do at any point of time I possibly can once I realize the uni-au has any form of new addition, there are a lot of other fics created by her that you should check out as well.

Did you, for example, ever want a sappy prinxiety one-shot with the sappiness only being implied, a mutual understanding of “we’re-not-saying-we-care-but-we-both-know-we-do” born from joking reassurances and a not-a-date-nope-only-a-break? While that may seem to be a tall order, that is exactly what “before the sun goes down” is. Plus there’s ice cream. Or maybe you’re more of a logince fan? Do you want a fic where Roman isn’t the prince but serves His Highness? Do you like sincere talks while you’re procrastinating showing your face to the subjects you don’t really want to rule over? In that case, you really should read “Viva la Vida”. Careful, though, this one is so sweet you’ll probably get a toothache… There also is an analogical fic that I’ve enjoyed very much: “Cracks in the Ceiling”. I love it, because it’s just calm. Fears creeping up on you, thrown away by a trusted friend with a few words, just by being there and playing into the metaphors you head created this time around. It’s calm, and there’s not really a climax or anything, but it doesn’t need one. Because it’s just a glance into everyday life. It’s beautiful in its own right, really.

What I’m saying is, Lexi has a lot more wonderful stories to tell than the uni-au. It’s the most popular one, sure, and it’s one of her best works. But you really should check out her other fics as well. Lexi herself once said that she writs fics she’d like to read. I would figure it’s because of this, but her stories are mostly things you don’t really find anywhere else. Dynamics, stories, world building, all of those are aspects you may find somewhere else. But Lexi is just one of those people who see what they miss in a fandom and create it themselves, and among these creators Lexi is my favorite. She just has that certain skill that makes that approach to writing result in the most enjoyable reading experiences. Lexi’s fics are special, because they’re different, because they are authentic and you can feel that when you’re reading her work.

@djpurple3 is another talented individual I want to talk about. I have to confess, DJ is, as far as original content goes, almost exclusively locked in my brain with the fiction “I just keep loosing my beat”. 23 Chapters so far, one better than the last. It’s a bitter-sweet story following Remus and his children, after the bitch of a mother has been brought behind bars. Abusive piece of shit. Yeah, I don’t like her much. But the story is so full of love and support, everyone trying their best, everyone seeing how much the others deserve the world and wishing they could give it to them… Roman and Remus have a sibling-dynamic I would die for here, too. Patton is just the most adorable friend to Deceit - here Damion - Virgil is a precious bean, Logan is cute and the teacher we all wish he’d had ourselves and… god, I could keep gushing about this fic forever. I’ll stop now, though, before I’ll start spoiler things. Wouldn’t want to do that, especially since I really, really, really want more people to give this a go. It’s not underrated, I just think everyone who doesn’t is missing out by a lot, so… Go over there and read DJ’s fic right fucking now, if you haven’t already read it at least once. Thank you.

@delimeful​, our wonderful lime-friend with a cute cat making a terrifying face in his header. First of all, there is the WIBAR universe, short for “Watch it burn and rust”. 5 chapters in act one, 4 intermissions (one of those with three chapters), one chapter of act two, as well as three extras and an au of this au called “the end of being alone”, and I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent reading those instead of sleeping like I should. (Or interacting with family. Or being productive. Or… It’s really a good story, okay?!) WIBAR is a deathworlder au. So a space au in which humans are regarded as dangerous deathworlders who can survive on a deathworld like earth. In other words, Virgil is the only human, and boy does that scare everyone around him. And the best part? You can feel the development, the shift in mentality regarding Virgil, feel the moment approach in which he isn’t a threat but a companion instead.

And, apart from the fic that inspired me enough to start writing “TINND!R?” over on my writing blog, there are a lot more amazing fics to read on lime’s blog. He wrote “How easy you are to need”, for example. It’s soft, it pulls at just the right heartstrings, it’s achingly hopeful and, god, the ending still has me in tears, even after the fifth - ? sixth? something among those lines - reread. This one’s a werewolf au, actually. Virgil is the werewolf, Logan, Patton and Roman are the humans.

Do you want yourself some of that pre-AA dynamic? I’d recommend “to taste your beating heart”. In this, Virgil gets separated from the rest of his group of vampire hunters and gets turned into a vampire himself, loosing his memories. And he’s “Anx” now, not “Virgil”, goddamnit! He isn’t their friend anymore, why don’t they understand that? Well, probably because they can still see Virgil’s old habits shining through. There’s a lot of tension, a lot of angst and a whole lot of frustration involved in this.

He also wrote some amazing one-shots. They’re mostly so well written that I’m almost sad not to be waiting on a continuation. There’s “the littlest mermaid”, in which Virgil goes to investigate a noise, finding a scared, tiny mermaid in need of help. In “community gardens” we have Remus being Remus, gaining the interest and friendship of the forest’s giant Logan. “Magical mutualism” tells the tale of a witch and a demon making a pact beneficial to both parties and opening the doors neither could have gone beyond alone. The way we’re all confused about our ships not actually having set sail yet comes to a hight in Virgil in regards to his friends in “amateur matchmakers”. And this is the point at witch I stop talking before I actually recommend every single one of lime’s fics instead of just my favorites as I had planed because I started to gush too much… XD

Let’s move on to @muppenthings​. Mupp is an amazing artist and she created a giant mermaid au. There’s this one orca who’s just… We love her, but I actually don’t think she’s the brightest. I really, really love her, though. Virgil himself is being a little protective over his human friends and casually so. I love this comic series for the art style, but I also love the way it makes me crack a laugh at least once per work. Or appeal to my mother-instincts, if it’s about baby Virgil. Too cute for his own good, I tell ya! And the facial expressions! The detail, the jokes, everything about this is wonderful. You should at least take a look.

@whenisitenoughtrees​. Cat got me with “This cup of yours tastes holy (This lie is dead)”. “A slow voice on a wave of phase” was next, later “Infinity and beyond”, “we are not alone in the dark with out demons” and “changing of the guard”. And then, suddenly, the night was over. I’ve read almost all of the fics in one go, and I’ve been semi-frequently visiting her master post ever since. When “There’s an endless road to rediscover” came out just a little while back, that lead to me re-reading through almost the entire list. I don’t regret it, my plans for that weekend would like to disagree.

These six fics I mentioned here are, by no means, the only ones I enjoyed. Those are just the ones I’ve found myself opening up again and again in sleepless nights. Those are the ones that pop up in my head and have me smiling to myself in the middle of god-knows-whatever-I’ve-been-doing-at-the-time.

Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, you’ll find everything in that list. And something I’ve grown to like about Cat’s fics even more than anything else is the quick change between feeling perplexed, a startled laugh at certain wordings (you’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it) and apprehension. These fics will have you at the edge of you seat, swooping you away on an emotional roller coaster. And, god, the way Cat writes from Remus’ perspective? The introductions of her stories and the way she redirects to the main topic after going into detail on something? I saved a few paragraphs as screenshots on my phone because I love them and I want to read them again when I’m down. I just… Cat’s great.

Next up is @eliemo. Because Elias Virgil is the royalty of Virgil angst. From the touch-starved Virgil we’ve all had a head cannon of at one point in “Heart of Ice”, over ace Virgil panicking over telling his boyfriends that he his ace and didn’t think to tell them before in “Love our way” to so, so much more.

Mostly EV follows the story arc of an underlying feeling of dread at the beginning, which slowly grows into panic, exploding in a storm of angst and concludes in everyone, or at least whoever is around, coming to the rescue and helping to calm down, with the end being the hope for getting better in the future. They always manage to convey the confusion, fear or just the general thought process so well that you can’t help but get absorbed in the story. They know exactly what to say and what to leave between the lines to get the maximum effect. And, your heart will definitely be shattered after their angst. Still, the way the sides comfort each other and support each other so well every time is just… I love their stories, a lot.

I want to make two more suggestions if you want to check out this creator. A Janus angst fic, which can only be described as “ouch” you’ll find under the name “snake bite”. It hurts in the best way possible, because Janus gets the comfort he deserves.

The other suggestion gets a lot darker. It’s about Virgil having been abused by the “others” before he got accepted into the light side. The others are shocked to find out what has gone on behind their backs and they help Virgil in every way they can to recover. Of cause it’s a rocky path, though. This would be “Learned Behavior”. The series/au has twelve stories so far, one of which has two parts. You’ll find the master post for this pinned to the top on their blog.

If you like angst, you should also give @maybedefinitely404​ a look. Ly has a soulmate-au going, in which they use the concept of “you hear the music your soulmate listens to”. "Music in my head” is a prinxiety fic, but the two of them have yet to meet. Four chapters and two mini-fics in. The reason I mentioned angst is because in this - spoiler alert for the first few chapters here - , Virgil gets put through conversion therapy. Luckily Janus and Logan are better foster parents than the ones who did that to him.

They also have a master list for all their soulmate stories, featuring different ships. Apparently they participated in soulmate month, if I understood that correctly. And to be honest, that was how I even found their account. I absolutely adore their anxceit fic, which takes place in a human au. It’s starting off pretty sad, but the bonding moments are absolutely wonderful. It’s a lovely story, and the ending is one of the best ones I’ve yet to read. Their logince fic took my breath away, too. A flower shop/tattoo artist au, and Logan is the tattoo artist. Stunning writing, wonderful world building, just the right amount of backstory to have everything make sense without overwhelming/drowning the reader in unnecessary details. Their moxceit fiction… Well, this one had me in tears within the first few paragraphs. It’s terrible and you feel for Janus, whose perspective this is written from. The ending, though… Gods! The ending was so indescribably cute. To be honest, all of the soulmate stories are great, these three are just my personal favorites.

Concerning their one shots, you’ll probably have to figure it out on your own concerning this. I haven’t been able to read all of them yet, as sad as that makes me. Definitely palling on doing it in the future, though. I did read two of them, though. “Pippity poppity” really was amusing, and I am so looking forward to the second part of “The Boy who sings next door”. The way they write the dynamics between the sides? I live for that.

Another creator I would like to recommend is @maybe-im-tired.They don’t have a master post, as far as I could see, but they only post their content anyways, so… “Can’t take my eyes off of you” is my favorite out of their fics so far. I mean, the way they managed to fit the sheer chaos that is intrulogical into this one short fic is amazing. And you could take about two thirds of what Remus said and put it up on your wall as out-of-contexts-quotes. Don’t worry, he says them out of context anyways, and they will definitely make you laugh. 

The series of short stories for the human au that starts with “Glowing stars” is another au by them that you will almost certainly like. We have Logan and Virgil as kids (about 7 I think), Remus and Patton as single parents, Roman as the most adoring uncle, Emile as babysitter and Remy as his amazing partner. Remus is a great father, wonderfully chaotic as well. And a teacher! Imagine that, Remus as your teacher... He’s great with kids though, as long as they aren’t entitled villains come to make his precious Virgil feel bad, that is.

They also wrote a bunch of “random one shots”. They are all amazing, but my favorite has to be this one. It’s a logince one, once again human au. Patton may or may not tell his big brother’s crush about the feelings he wasn’t prepared to share yet. You know, as small kids do. It’s soft, it will make you smile as much as Logan does, and I love Remus in it. I generally like how they write Remus, okay? I know how much I’ve said it, but I’m not even exaggerating. They always write him differently, and all versions they write him as are so, so lovable and just… I wanna hug the life out of all Remus versions they wrote, okay? Take a look, you’ll know why.

Anyways. Let’s continue with @figurative-siren-song. This is the last account I’ve followed and I’m still sad about it having taken me this long to find them. Little salty, to be honest. (I’ll stick to they/them because they said just not to use she/her, and, well… consistency, you know? Don’t have much, so I have to get what I can XD). When I finally did find them, I went through their entire master list (at least all of the ships with characters I actually know. I’m kinda bad with the shorts characters, so I usually just… avoid them? Idk. Personal preference, I guess), and, well… I would honestly recommend every single fic on that list. They call themself “Repair Fluff King™️” and they deserve that title. But when they warn you that a fic will be angsty, it will be angsty.

I found them through the anxceit fic “A Deal”. Well, through an animatic by their friend on youtube that had linked the fic, but details. I’ve been reading this fic up and down again and again. It’s just so good! And when they talk in the second part and Janus explains why he proposed that deal. Or in the continuation, which i can’t talk about because I will probably spoiler things! So wholesome!

 Also, their losleepxeity fic “We’re worth it”. So soft! The nicknames, the plot, the everything. It’s softer than clouds look, and we all know that means something.

But, really. Everyone will find something for them by this creator. So many ships, all incredibly well written, and soft and fluffy without getting boring in the slightest. It’s as energizing as coffee, actually. And, let’s be honest, this whole fandom drowns itself in angst most of the time. Take a break from that, repair your broken hearts with goof fluffy content that you’ll want to read over and over again. Go check this creator out. You will love them. 

Last but not least… @myfriendsasthesides​ A blog by a creator who just takes the wonderfully chaotic dynamics of a friend group and using that to give us content of incorrect sides quotes. Maybe it doesn’t fit with me going on and on about fics here. I don’t care. Follow them and turn on those notifications, please, because seeing even one post of theirs on your dashboard will make your day. It’s funny, it’s absurd, it’s chaotic, it’s making you jealous of them for having friends like that. Believe me, you will want to see those posts. It’s just… the random shots of serotonin and dopamine out generation needs really fucking desperately 100% of the time. 

That’s it with the list! Eleven creators I absolutely adore, and I’m sorry I was babbling so much all the way through, but… Well, actually I’m not sorry. And actually, half of the reason I even made this post is to tell them how much I love them and fangirl about them a bit. So… Yeah. Well.I love you guys and hope you’ll have a wonderful day! And to everyone else reading this: I hope this helped you ind some new creators you can enjoy. And a good day to you too, of cause.

Sincerely, Joy 🖤

(@joylessnightsky/@sanders-sides-fic)

#I hope it's okay to you I just went ahead and did this #if you don't feel comfortable with this or anything written in here feel free to let me know #also no I didn't check the spelling #I'm too tired to do that anyways #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #recommendations #list

[itsamejin]

this love || yoongi angst

Summary: A story through the years detailing your relationship with Yoongi and all the ups and downs that came with dating an idol. 

Warning: cursing, sexually suggestive content

Genre: angst, fluff, idol!yoongi, artist!yn

Pairing: Yoongi x female!reader

Premise: Based on the song ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift. Reader is an artist.

Commission Request: @minyoongail​

Word Count: 7,681 words

—

You met Yoongi when he was just a trainee, ready to take on the world and bursting with energy to get on stage. He had visions of grandeur- him living in a beautiful mansion, wearing name-brand jewelry, cruising in rare sports vehicles. When times were simpler, he’d promise that you’d be there with him, indulging in the glitz and glamour that came with his fame. He’d be an idol and you’d be his muse. Yet under all those pretenses, under all those empty promises, he was just Yoongi.

He was a guy who walked in and out of your life as easily as ocean tides come and go on the shore. He taught you how to fall in love, fall out of it, and rekindle it all the same. It was a sort of beautiful asphyxiation, being wrapped up in his lifestyle and learning to accept the consequences that came with dating a celebrity.

You wonder even now as you search his name on the internet, if you had any regrets. After all, you lost too much to be with him.

—

April 2013

A first meeting meant everything to you, especially when it came to your clients. You didn’t accept jobs from weirdos who didn’t respect your craft and you definitely hated impatient ones who badgered you to finish your pieces as quick as possible.

Big Hit was a happy medium and had hired you as a contract employee after reviewing your portfolio. Although the style of work they wanted from you was not at all what you specialized in, you were happy that they treated you like an actual employee and not some sort of machine. Plus, the pay was good.

You were asked to work on some cute animal characters for an upcoming boy group that you weren’t terribly familiar with, maybe stumbled on a vlog of theirs that you forgot about. You were intrigued by the slew of trainees that sat in front of you, their palms clenched out of anxiousness.

“I’m [Y/N], one of the digital artists that will be working with you guys from now on,” you introduce yourself politely to the seven bright-eyed boys in front of you.

You were in a room with other staff members, discussing the concept of the “Hip Hop Monsters” your graphics team was working on. This was a planned project lasting over a span of years and would eventually result in collectors edition items. It made you giddy just thinking of the royalties you’d earn from it all.

“I’d like it if the animals took after us,” one of the boys suggested shyly, slightly intimidated by the large number of corporate employees there were in the room for something that seemed so trivial. “I think our fans would like the characters more if they kind of resembled our personalities and stuff...”

You nod along to his suggestions, staring at his jersey to notice that the member who spoke up was Rap Monster. It was cute how they all wore clothes with their names on them. That’s one way to attract attention, you suppose.

“Any other suggestions you guys have for us?” you ask, jotting down notes and making rough sketches as they talk amongst themselves.

“I’d like it if,” a somewhat husky voice starts and you can’t help but stare into the guy’s eyes as he speaks, “my character was a turtle.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter along with the other staff members. He had said it with such a straight face and with so little enthusiasm, yet you could tell from his slight blush that he was serious. He was cute in the way that he wasn’t trying to be.

“You resemble one,” you grin at him, drawing out a small turtle with a cute beanie on your iPad, like the one he wore in front of you. You show it to him. “Something like this?”

“Exactly that!”

He breaks out into a gummy smile, one so bright that it hurt your heart to stare at him for too long. Now you were the one left flustered. He realizes how enthusiastic he was and got embarrassed once again, scratching the back of his head to avoid eye-contact.

“S-sorry, for shouting. It looks good.”

You bite your lip from forming too big of a grin. You still had to remain professional after all.

“You’re welcome,” you smirk slightly as he goes back to trying to look cool. You can’t help but doodle his name on your iPad even as the other members shared ideas for their own animals.

Suga, Suga, Suga.

You smile to yourself. It does have a ring to it.

—

June 2013

Yoongi sees you in the hallways sometimes and wants to say hi, but he can’t because other people are watching. Though, that isn’t the only reason.

He tells himself every day that he’ll muster up the courage to go talk to you, but every time he sees your face his legs turn to jelly. Yoongi was busy with debut stages recently, but he found some free time in his schedule to approach you.

Yoongi was never the shy type, more reserved if anything else, but you had something that enamored him- intrigued him. He wanted to know who you were other than the cute girl he was stuck in meetings with from time to time.

As you sat there on your desk, Yoongi lingered in an area nearby. He would give you his number today and if things didn’t work out then that would be that. There was no need to be all shy about this; it’s not like this is his first time asking someone out.

He strides over to you with feigned confidence and you look up after a minute, not noticing how his shadow loomed over you. He sees that you’re working on realistic portraits of the members and not the cutesy characters he usually sees you drawing.

“Hi,” he says curtly, trying to seem disinterested though he was the one that approached you first.

“Hello,” you smile up at him.

Suga.

“You draw really cool stuff,” he says to break the awkward tension. “You should show it to the CEO. I’m sure we’d have cooler concepts for our albums with your work.”

You look up at him, a happy glint in your eyes. He was complimenting you, although avoiding eye contact to seem a little less nervous than he really was.

“Well, I’m just a contract worker so I don’t think I really have the authority to start up new projects out of nowhere,” you say with a smile on your face at how flustered he looks. “I feel like you’re here to ask me for something. Am I right?”

He looks away for a split second, coughing to alleviate his nerves. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake, why was this so difficult?

“I was actually wondering if you could come give me some opinions about some art that I drew,” he lies through his teeth, just trying to find a way to get you in a more private area than the corporate floor teaming with watchful gazes. “I’ve been trying to start a new hobby.”

You chuckle slightly, seeing right through his words. You stand up to amuse him.

“I’d be happy to.”

He leads you to a studio filled with whacky knick-knacks and dim lighting, not necessarily the best place to draw. You know by now that he just said those things as an excuse to be alone with you.

“So where’s this masterpiece?” you tease slightly at his nervous expression. How did a guy who looked so deadpan have such a giddy personality?

“Well actually,” he starts off, palms already sweaty. “I-It’s not here right now, but I think I left it at the dorms. Maybe if we exchange phone numbers I can text it to you.”

He tried to appear nonchalant, but his hands moved as if he was doing a public speaking presentation. Yoongi thought he was doing great, though growing a little more nervous at how you were giggling.

“You know, Suga,” you start teasingly, “My number is in the company directory. Feel free to text me anytime.”

Yoongi slightly cringes hearing his stage name. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he didn't like hearing it come from you. He didn’t like the unfamiliar aspect that came with using his stage name- like you two only went by professional terms.

“Call me Yoongi,” he says with genuine confidence this time. “I like it better when my friends call me Yoongi.”

You nod, relieved that you could finally know this cute guy’s name. Truth be told, you were snooping around his conversations with other people to figure it out.

“So we’re friends?”

Yoongi nods, sitting down in his rolling chair.

“I’d like to be,” he grins, patting the sofa, hoping you’d take a seat with him.

And you do.

—

Present

It’s hard to work efficiently when you’re no longer in a corporate space. There’s no boss to check up on your progress nor is there a nosy coworker trying to see what you’re doing from the corner of their eye. You missed the hustle and bustle of an office floor, but it was nice exploring your creativity through freelance work.

You tap your digital pen onto the table repeatedly, looking at the reference image over and over again. It was a sick joke played by the universe to have been commissioned to draw your ex-boyfriend’s idol group, but you couldn’t refuse the hundreds of dollars the ecstatic fangirl was willing to give you. Truth be told, she might have offered too much pay, but you took up her offer anyway. Money is money.

Yet a face you’ve touched so often, a person you’d been with for years felt so unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t like you were drawing him realistically either. The client wanted anime-style figures that resembled them, looked enough like the boys to display it as her Twitter header. In the end, it’s still too difficult to draw. The rest of the members were lined up and sketched perfectly, but there was a blank area where Yoongi’s face should’ve been.

Your wrists hurt from the constant drawing and erasing so you set it down to massage your hand from cramping. In moments like these, you hated your job.

Ting.

A message notification popped up on your phone that laid beside your iPad. You usually left it silent when you were working, but you opened yourself up to distractions when drawing this particular piece. Whoever thought it was a good idea to specialize in celebrity artwork? You pick up your phone and smiled softly at the text.

hey, can I come over?

—

March 2014

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Yoongi, happy birthday to you~~”

You cheer on with the rest of the boys in their cramped dorm. Somehow you had gotten close enough with them to be at this level of comfort, sitting crisscrossed and shoulders touching with Jungkook and Seokjin. Yoongi blows out the candles and claps his hands, a little sad that another year passed by so quickly. He kept glancing at you who was focused on cutting the cake like the perfectionist you were.

He couldn’t help but feel like time was running out, like if he didn’t confess to you now then it would never happen. Yoongi took off the beanie he wore and ruffled his hair. He was feeling anxious all of a sudden.

“Dude don’t do that your dandruff is gonna get everywhere,” Hoseok whines. “The cake is gonna be decorated with your dead skin cells.”

“Go wash your hands,” Jin commands and Yoongi could only roll his eyes.

“Relax, I don’t even think we’re gonna have cake anytime soon when this slow-poke is taking forever to cut.”

He flicks your forehead as you glare up at him.

“I could so easily throw this in your face, but I choose not to,” you stick your tongue out at him and he scoffs.

“I’d like to see you try.”

All the members groan out of annoyance.

“Oh my god they’re having a lovers quarrel again,” Jimin yawned. “Aren’t you guys sick of arguing?”

Yoongi freezes at his words. Lover’s quarrel. That was a nice way to put it.

“They’ll stop arguing when Yoongi finally-”

Taehyung was cut off as Yoongi swipes three fingers worth of frosting from the cake and lathers it all over Taehyung’s face.

“You talk too much,” Yoongi shakes his head and soon chaos descended. Cake flew in places it shouldn’t have and ended when Namjoon knocked over a glass of water, managing to break it on the floor tiles. In the end, no one got cake.

Yoongi and you were laughing amongst yourselves at the kitchen sink, washing off some of the bits that got onto your shirts.

“I’m so sorry about your cake,” you say through your chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you some time.”

Yoongi only smiles.

“Yeah, you can treat me on a date,” he replies a little too boldly. You look at him in shock, not quite processing his words.

“A date?”

He nods.

“We should go out sometime.”

You purse your lips to prevent the huge grin about to be displayed on your face.

“We should.”

—

Present

It was subtle, the way it all started. You trace over the features you drew so far, only getting to his eyes. Yoongi and you were innocent lovers for a while, keeping your trysts a secret from everyone in the company except his managers and the members. A few of your friends knew, but none of them knew BTS well enough to be all that surprised. It wasn’t all that rare to go out with a celebrity in your line of work.

You almost miss those days when he was unrecognizable. After your friends realized who he was after he hit it big globally, you felt like a secret of yours was displayed to them. Your love was supposed to be private, but his fame left very little room for privacy. You missed when you were the only one that knew of him and maybe it’s selfish to think that way, but you were past the point of being selfish.

You text back.

yeah, can't wait to see you

—

Jan. 2015

Yoongi lays you down on the couch gently. His hands caressing your sides underneath the thin material of your shirt as he pulls you in closer to his kisses. This felt different from other nights, different in that there was nothing around to stop what would come next.

He pulls away from you slightly, panting from the lack of oxygen.

“Are you sure?” he asks, drawing circles on your hip with his thumb. He was only supposed to come over to help you unpack some stuff for your new apartment and here you were, pinned on the couch and sweating from the close contact.

You nod back in response, not finding the right words to get him to continue. He pulls your shirt over your head, peppering kisses on your neck and atop your breasts. He fixates on your neck languidly, biting as he sees fits.

There was a pause as you felt him press up against you and you knew then that there was no making it to the bed. You would have your first time with him on this newly moved-in couch.

The clothes dropped to the ground as his touches get more impatient, more desperate. It all passes by like a blur and you could only remember the pleasure that came with his long fingers, the satisfaction you felt when he was inside you. The climax of it all made you realize that you loved him, truly and without regret. He holds you in his arms when you come undone, flashing a satiated smile as you look up at him. It’s like the stars were in his eyes.

“How do you feel?” you ask him, worried he was already drowsy. You didn’t want to have to sleep on the couch naked.

“Satisfied,” he says with a smile on his face.

You can’t help but swoon, his eyes fixated on you. At least for now, he was yours He wasn’t Suga, a rapper. He was Yoongi, your boyfriend.

It didn't matter to you that he was struggling to make a name for himself in this cut-throat idol industry or that he would spend countless nights cursing as one of his numerous tracks get rejected. None of that was in your mind. Only he swam through your thoughts. Only him.

“I love you,” he sighs out. He was the first to say it.

“I love you too,” you reply back and he holds you tight against him.

He’s nuzzling himself in your hair, his chest pressed up against you so his heartbeat can synch with yours. He loves this, can’t get enough of it. He catches your lips and once again you are whisked in the pleasure of it all. This is it. This is what love is.

—

Present

The piece is finally finished and you send it off to your client, hoping she doesn’t ask for revisions because you can’t handle another second of drawing his stupid face. His soft skin, his tiny moles, his gummy smile...

It's not like you hate him. It’s just... a certain contempt lingers after a breakup from a long-term relationship. It’s the type of resentment that can’t really be explained. You don’t want to see him, but you catch yourself watching his videos on Youtube. You don’t want to think about him, but you hope he thinks about you. You don’t see yourself ever getting back together with him, but you don’t have his phone number blocked.

It’s a sort of paradox you catch yourself in and you wonder if you could ever get out of it. Will Yoongi ever escape your mind?

can't wait to see u too babe

—

Aug. 2016

Yoongi hugs you from behind, his face scrunched at the nape of your neck where several marks were made from last night’s events. Your eyes stayed focus on the TV in front of you, still impressed by your own ability to afford one in your bedroom at your salary.

“BTS' SUGA drops new music video for his song and mixtape Agust D...”

The news anchor drones on and you could barely hear her through the sounds of Yoongi’s soft snores. His hold on you grew tighter as he hears his stage name from an unfamiliar voice and it makes you giggle slightly at how different the edgy music video being displayed was from the same person wrapping you in his arms so tightly.

“Babe, wake up. I have work to do,” you whisper into his hair and he only shakes his head back in response.

“No,” he mutters, pulling you into him closer. You roll your eyes, managing to pry off one of his hands as you sit up on the bed.

“Don’t you have studio stuff to do today?” you ask him, searching for a shirt to wear.

He shakes his head as his eyes start to flutter open. You both reeked of alcohol since you opened a bottle of wine last night to celebrate the release of his first solo work. He was proud of it and you were proud of him.

“Can you turn that off, I’m getting a migraine,” he whines, covering his head with a pillow. You opted to wear Yoongi’s shirt instead of your own since you couldn’t be bothered to walk to the other side of the bed to find it. You smiled at his laying figure, cooped in a fetal-like position. He was still naked, but you were with him long enough to no longer be phased by that sort of thing.

“From one bottle of wine?” you tease slightly. “I think you’re losing your touch, Agust D.”

You chuckle as he throws the pillow on top of his head towards you.

“Don’t call me that,” he pouts, “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

You stand up from where you were, stretching out your back as you make your way to the door.

“That’s because I am,” you smirk, “You know you’re saved on my phone as Sugar?”

He gives you a glare.

“It’s Suga,” he says, attempting to add some intimidation to his voice. It doesn’t work because all you do is stick your tongue out at him.

“Whatever sugar.”

He chuckles lightly and watches the silhouette of your figure exit his view. Yoongi can’t help but mindlessly follow after you.

As you exit towards the kitchen, you can’t help but hear the television from the bedroom.

“Suga has recently been caught up in a dating scandal with Suran, the solo artist, who sang with him in a song...”

Your head snaps up from those words, your skin crawling with goosebumps. You make it into the kitchen but with a heavy heart and no appetite.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, passing by you to pour himself some water.

“Nothing,” you say, though you sounded bitter. He caught on quite quickly. You were jealous again.

Yoongi heaves out a deep sigh and sets the glass of water down. He comes over to your angry figure and gives you a soft hug, laying his head on top of yours as if to comfort you. You try to pull away but he keeps you close.

“I’ll tell them to drop the rumors, okay?,” he says, genuinely enough to make you believe him. “I don’t want us to fight so early in the morning.”

“You promise?”

He pulls away.

“I promise,” he says, brushing a hair away from your face. “Let’s not think about those rumors right now. You and me both know they’re not true.”

You were never one to forget so easily.

—

It was around 2016 when you had stopped working at Big Hit. They halted the Hip Hop Monster brand and your contract was expiring with them anyway. You went from living a kush office life to struggling freelance worker in a matter of a second. It also meant that Yoongi and you would be spending less time together. His busy schedules couldn’t permit him to stay with you longer than a few hours and his presence slowly started to disappear from his side of the bed.

It was like a sinking ship, what you had with him. The pain starts off slow, unnoticeable. You’ll still laugh and keep up appearances as time passes, but you could tell there was an ominous atmosphere that wasn’t initially there in the relationship. Your screams start to grow silent as more problems start to stack on top of each other. It’s then when you hit the iceberg. It’s then when it all starts to fall apart.

He was still good for you, you convinced yourself, even as the currents swept you out under your feet.

—

Dec. 2016

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming?” you yell through your phone. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, holiday decorations strewn around the apartment. He promised he’d come spend a day off of his winter promotions to be with you.

“You know how hectic the end of the year gets with promotions,” he says in quiet hushes. “I can’t do anything about it. This is my job.”

You suck in your cheeks to prevent yourself from yelling. From the sound of it, he was in public.

“Yoongi, I called out of talking to a really high-paying client,” you say through gritted teeth. “And I still came home. Why am I the only one making sacrifices?”

He sighed at the other end. He didn’t have the patience to deal with you today.

“Look, can you stop being so fucking needy. I don’t need this right now.”

He couldn’t tell from the phone call, but your heart broke at the word. Needy. He thought that you were needy.

“I’m already stressed out as it is,” he continues through the phone. “I don’t need you up my ass all the time.”

“I’m not gonna wait for you,” you reply, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m going to sleep and you’re gonna get rid of all the shit you have in my apartment. I’m sick of you, Yoongi.”

He scoffs.

“I’m sick of you too.”

Yoongi hangs up, about ready to hit the wall when Jimin comes to calm him down. Small things that were never meant to be taken seriously built up until it was ready to crash down.

When Yoongi comes at night to visit you, he sees that you’re asleep on the couch. He sits next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll do better.”

You nuzzled closer to him, comforted by words you forget the next day. Even when you woke up with a bad neck and Yoongi snoring onto your skin, you couldn’t find a way to stay mad at him. You knew, deep down, that some way or the other you’re gonna find yourself arguing about the same thing next week.

—

Present

Junghoon comes to pick you up. Junghoon, your boyfriend.

He’s a little uptight and too stern for his own good, but has a good heart and a knack of giving great gifts. You met him from working in the same industry, a 3D graphics designer for several video game companies. He was a new addition to your life, your relationship only about three months old.

You were warming up to him slowly, thankful for finally having a consistent presence in your life. He always made time for you, never used work as an excuse, and didn’t act cold just for the sake of acting cold. Junghoon was sweet in the way that Yoongi used to be when he wasn’t such a massive celebrity.

It was a relief to have someone like Junghoon in your life that didn’t walk in and out of your door without much of a thought to even say goodbye. Your life with him has been a tad bit dull, but you don’t mind all that much. Junghoon’s made you feel secure in ways that Yoongi couldn’t.

—

May 2017

“Your boyfriend is winning a whole ass award across the world and you’re having ramen with me?” Chaerin sighs. It’s typical for a best friend to judge the actions of the other.

“Yeah and?” you reply snarkily, swirling your chopstick around to find the perfect clump of noodles. “I’m not the top social artist according to Billboard, what’s it have to do with me?”

She rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know, you could at least watch him win the award?” she suggests. “The live stream is literally happening right now. Your boyfriend is making history and you don’t even care!”

You look at the clock on the restaurant wall. It was nearing 2 o’clock and your client meeting would be starting soon. You were in high demand as a graphic artist recently and as far as you were concerned, that was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You stare back into your bowl, suddenly losing your appetite.

“The apartment is lonely without him,” you admit sadly.

He bought one for himself and had you move in. ‘It’s easier to not get noticed by the tabloids,’ he convinced you. The modern sleekness of his penthouse was a nice change to your lifestyle, but you missed the comfiness of your small studio apartment. It was often too cold when he wasn’t around.

“You could watch it with me?” Chaerin suggested. “Yoongi’s probably so sad that his own girlfriend doesn’t even want to watch him win such a major award.”

You bite down on your chopstick harshly.

“Well he didn't even want me to come with him so I don’t wanna hear anymore about him from you.”

Chaerin squinted her eyes in your direction.

“Well I mean I get where he’s coming from. He’s still an idol, [Y/N],” she scolds. “It would be a massive risk to take you with him.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, pushing the bowl away from you.

“I’m not an idiot, Chae. It’s not like I was asking to be on the red carpet with him, I just wanted to be there waiting in the hotel room after the show. Two nights ago he suddenly backs out and says I shouldn’t come.”

Chaerin’s jaw dropped out of shock. That wasn’t what she was expecting at all.

“Did he say why?”

You stare down at your nails, your heart growing heavy as a long pause of silence takes place. It would be better to be honest, right? You shouldn’t have to pretend like everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t.

“He said he wants space,” you say, careful not to get choked up. “So I’m giving it to him.”

You clutch your thigh instinctively, remembering how Yoongi had brought that up with you just nights before. You two weren’t happy and that he needed to figure himself out before the relationship gets any worse. It’s just a break or whatever bullshit he spouted.

She scoffs.

“What is wrong with you two?” she asks, genuinely concerned. “You are not the type of person to take a break in a relationship.”

You stare bitterly into the reflection of your soup.

“I just don’t think I’ve been happy for a while,” you reply, taking a sip of your water that was left untouched for a better half of the night. “I don’t think he is either.”

—

Sept. 2017

The break lasted for months and you wondered if it was really even a break at all. It felt more like a break up if you were honest. He’d text once in a while and video call you when he was free but other than that it felt like he became a stranger, just another celebrity billboard you walked past on your way to a client’s workplace.

You’d draw sketches of him countlessly, in fear you’d forget how his face looked in real life and not through a low-quality screen. You etched every baby hair, every small blemish he’d hide with makeup. It was your method of not forgetting who the real Yoongi was because honestly, you didn’t know anymore. You didn’t know him.

Trrrringggg.

The sound of your doorbell could be heard all throughout your apartment. You stood up from where you sat on the bed, leaving the sketchbook of his face on the comforter. You weren’t expecting any visitors, but surely enough, Yoongi stood in front of you with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Hey.”

You let him in, not uttering a single word. He looks different now. His hair was black, thank god, but his face was a little softer than you were used to. You remember him being so paranoid about turning bald just a few years ago and here he was, no bald spots to be found. He looked healthy.

“It’s been a while,” you respond, hugging your arms close to your chest, uncomfortable that he was in your presence. It was his apartment technically, but you lived in it more than he did. He opted to stay in the dorm ever since he issued that idiotic break.

“I miss you,” he says in a lowly voice and you almost believe him. Almost.

You scoff.

“It seems like you’ve been having fun without me though,” you say through gritted teeth. “I thought you still wanted space?”

He shakes his head and brings his hand to touch your arm.

“No,” he swallows his saliva. “I miss you.”

You could feel his sincerity, but you can’t help but not trust him. He’s been viciously cold to you, but you find yourself pulling him closer anyway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you threaten. “It’ll really be over then, Yoongi.”

He sighs into your hair. He loves you. He does. But he doesn’t know why it’s so hard to express it.

“I promise [Y/N]. I won’t leave.”

—

Aug. 2018

He buys you flowers, your favorite kind. It’s a small gesture, but it has you jumping into his arms all the same. It shows that he still cares somewhat. It’s been a while since he’s last shown it.

He holds you closely, appreciating the softness of your body and how you curl perfectly into him.

“I want to stay like this,” you say mindlessly, just relishing in his presence.

You’re not mad at him today and he’s not frustrated with you. It’s a high point in your relationship.

“Me too.”

His words are simple but it warms your heart nonetheless. Yoongi looks at you with twinkling eyes and for a moment you think that this could last forever and that it will last forever. You kiss him slowly and he reciprocates.

It reminds you of your first time, slow and careful- like you were the last person he’d ever want to hurt.

His love, although painful at times, was good to you when you needed it to be.

—

July 2019

Yoongi’s gone again. He’s on tour, as usual, and not giving you any updates. You were getting sick of it. The constant waiting, the constant insecurities that ate you up inside. You weren’t built to endure this kind of torture.

Suga. Suga. Suga.

It rolls off the tongue but it feels disgusting coming out of your mouth. His stage name, a persona. He starts to resemble that name more and more as the days go by. You hear it so much now that it no longer registers as an actual word.

You call him.

He doesn’t pick up.

Again.

No answer.

You’re about ready to throw the phone at the wall until a soft ring was heard from the small device. You take the call immediately, smiling as if you passed the hardest difficulty of a video game. The grin would soon be wiped away, though.

“Why’d you call?” he grumbles from the other line, loud music blasting in the background.

“Why weren’t you picking up?” You sound bitter. You don’t care.

“I’m out right now,” he says, exasperation laced in his voice. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Clearly, he just wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Yoongi was at a party or a club or wherever he could possibly be in the streets of Shizuoka at 10 p.m.

You just wanted to chat, check on him as a good girlfriend would. He’s been complaining that you haven’t been in a while. You thought this was what he wanted- for you to care.

“I just wanted to see if you were doing okay,” you sigh. “How’d the concert go?”

“Good,” he says, clearly distracted. “Some of us snuck out of the hotel rooms to let loose for a bit.”

You nod as if he could see you.

“So you’re partying?”

You could hear him laugh at the other end, but it wasn’t from your comment. Someone else was making him laugh. Someone with a light and dainty voice, whiny as she got closer to Yoongi.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he says, clearly distracted. “Listen I’ll call you back, okay?”

You feel a lump stuck in your throat. There are no words left to say. The foreign girl on the other end giggled harder at whatever Yoongi was saying and it felt like you were invading their privacy- as if she was his girlfriend and you were nothing. You hung up, your mouth feeling dry as the tears poured down.

You see a text from Yoongi just a few seconds into your wallowing. You sniffle as you read it.

don’t misunderstand. nothing’s happening rn i'm just having a bit of fun.

This time you really threw your phone at the wall.

You go to your iPad that’s sitting untouched on your desk. You open your drawing app and just let the anger in the stylus take you from there. You draw a rough sketch of a couple on the edge of a beachside cliff. The woman seems to be falling into the water as if she was pushed. The guy’s hand reaches out to her, but you can’t really tell if he was trying to grab her or if he was the one that let her go in the first place.

As the tears spilled onto the cool surface of the iPad, you sob harder. Nothing could be fixed and everything still felt broken. It was meaningless, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes when he was all the way in Japan snuggling up to girls that were probably much prettier and much more willing to understand his lifestyle.

You look around the penthouse he had bought for the two of you, beautiful wide panel windows and modern furniture. It mostly looks empty, everything nice and tidy as if no one lived here. It had such a stark contrast to that of his old life when he shared rooms with other members and had no place to really put his keyboard except the studio. You smiled at the memory of you all hovering around the small coffee table in the cramped living room eating ramen.

Maybe it was your fault for falling behind, for letting the world around you build up and not follow in Yoongi’s tracks.

—

Present

You guess it was then when the relationship had passed a point of no return. When everything that felt right had started to feel incredibly wrong. You tolerated his presence rather than bask in it. You heard him speak but couldn’t bother to listen. Maybe you were petty, but more than anything you were angry.

You were angry that he could break you that badly and you would still forgive him for it.

You stare over at Junghoon who’s cooking you up something on the stove. This is what you needed.

—

Nov. 2019

Yoongi was back from some big-name award show that you didn’t watch. You heard he won Artist of the Year or whatever, the accolades that he’s collected no longer having meaning as the days pass. Why be happy for him when he himself showed no signs of excitement? This was routine. He expected the awards at this point.

You walked towards him. Yoongi looked angry, though you have no idea why.

“Hey, I made dinner to celebrate,” you tell him. Yoongi’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through the congratulatory messages he received from other industry stars. He looked like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters. “Just leave it.”

“Are you sure?”

He scoffs. It was a simple question.

“Not in the mood.”

You give him a pointed look and sit next to him.

“Why are you never in the mood for anything?” you ask him. “It’s just food Yoongi. I just want to eat with you.”

You don’t see it properly but he rolls his eyes.

“Just drop it okay? Today’s a good day, I don’t need you to ruin it.”

You suck in your cheeks.

“Ruin?”

Yoongi sighs heavily.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he starts, facing you. “Why do you have to be so dramatic over everything.”

You grit your teeth.

“Dramatic?” your voice quivers. “I didn’t know feeling hurt was being dramatic.”

His gaze softens and he touches your arm lightly.

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shake your head, feeling your eyes dampen at his words.

“I hate your apologies, Yoongi,” you say in a hushed tone. “They don’t mean anything anymore.”

He’s shocked, not really sure how to respond. You were never one to confront him, especially when he was angry. Instead, he holds your hand softly. He was terrible at comforting people.

“Yoongi are you really sorry?” you ask abruptly. It was a question you’ve been meaning to ask for years now.

His grip on you tightened and you can’t quite read his expression, but you can tell that it’s not a positive response. He looks conflicted and he shouldn’t have to be if he really was. You force him to let go of you.

“I am,” he says, knowing he answered a little too late for his words to not seem suspicious.

“I don’t think you are,” you reply sadly. “You say sorry more than you-”

say I love you.

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he knows. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“I am,” he says with more sincerity, but he looks at you with an unreadable expression. “I just don’t think it’s enough at this point.”

“What’s not enough?”

You were confused. Is he still talking about whether he's apologetic or not? Or is it something entirely different?

“I do love you,” he says with a certain conviction in his voice, “and I always will, but it feels like nothing’s working out.”

Yoongi doesn’t look at you and focuses on the leather of the fancy couch. He doesn’t say anything but you know what this means. He’s about to stand up, but you grab onto his wrist.

“This is your apartment,” you say before he could say anything to break your heart even further. “I’ll leave.”

“[Y/N], no,” he says. “You don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m just gonna stay over at the dorm. I just...”

Your eyes get blurry from the tears. Even now it felt like he was looking down at you. Nowhere to go. It was like he pitied you.

“...need to go clear my mind,” he finishes the sentence, standing up to grab his coat.

You shake your head and stand in front of him. He’s usually like this. A coward. A bumbling fool who would rather avoid problems than face them head on.

“I need you to stay, Yoongi,” you cry out. “I need you to actually stay for once and comfort me.”

He looks at you, mouth open but no words come out. He smiles sadly and walks toward you, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t think I can do that anymore, [Y/N],” he says and you watch him leave as easily as he walked in.

It’s not like he ever comforted you in the first place.

—

The break up happened silently over a late-night phone call a few days after he disappeared on you. You packed up your things, stayed over at Chaerin’s house, and braced yourself for what was to come. It should’ve happened sooner, you admit, but your heart still sinks when he speaks.

“I just don’t think either of us is willing to try anymore,” he says solemnly. “We’ve been on and off for the past few years and I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to continue.”

You agree, just wanting the call to end quickly so you wouldn’t have to hear his voice any longer. It hurt to have to listen to him rationalize breaking your heart.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore, [Y/N],” he says, not even a tiny bit choked up. “I think we’ve... outgrown each other.”

You knew what Yoongi really meant. He’s outgrown you.

“I think so too,” you say rigidly. Short and simple. You left nothing to be desired. “Let’s break up.”

Yoongi looks at his phone, slightly disappointed. He wished you would fight back, maybe rekindle something in him that he’s lost over the years. Yet you were silent on the line and he just had to accept it- that there was nothing left to be saved.

“Take care, okay?” he says softly because in the end he still cares- he just doesn’t want to anymore.

“I will,” you reply, ultimately hanging up the phone. You collapse onto a bed unfamiliar to you. Yoongi would no longer sleep beside you, no longer reach over to hug your side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He was gone and you had to accept that maybe he was never yours in the first place.

His last words replay in your mind.

Take care.

That was the most concern he’s ever shown you in the past few weeks. You almost scoff at the absurdity of it all. You don’t notice how truly broken you were until the tears start streaming down your face. You see the image of him through blurry eyes and you wonder how you could let Yoongi leave such a permanent scar on your heart.

—

Present

“Do you like your eggs runny or no?”

Junghoon asks as you approach his figure. You hug him from behind and smile at his warmth. Safe.

“Just a little runny,” you reply.

He smiles and nods, turning off the heat and grabbing some seasoning from your cupboard. You detach yourself from him when you realized what he was grabbing.

“Babe that’s not salt. That’s-”

Sugar.

You stop yourself from saying it and Junghoon looks at you with concern. He chuckles at your stoic state and ruffles your hair.

“Cat got your tongue or what?” he asks, grabbing the right container this time. “Maybe I should’ve asked if you like your eggs sweet instead, huh?”

“I’ve never tried that combination before,” you say teasingly. “Why don’t you test it out for us.”

He clicks his tongue at you and splashes some salt on your face.

“I’ll pour sugar all over you if that’s what you really want.”

You laugh half-heartedly. A simple word shouldn’t affect you this much but you find yourself get more teary-eyed as it repeats in your head. It wasn’t fair to Junghoon that you were thinking of your ex in his presence. It wasn’t fair to you either.

You feel a vibration from your pocket and you pull it out to serve as a distraction from your wallowing thoughts. It’s a text.

From Sugar.

—

A/N: This was so hard to write because my mind has just been empty these days but I’m so glad it’s done now >_< Thank you to @minyoongail​ for requesting this story. I’ve been bumping to the Taylor Swift song now because of this commissions T^T I recommend you all to listen to it. I tried to write this in a different style from my other works so I hope this is still readable for you all LOL

I’m closing commissions temporarily to focus on the ones I have now and to also start writing my own stuff. Let me know how you feel about this, I appreciate all types of comments and criticisms <3 Look forward to Part 2!

#yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts scenario #suga angst #suga fluff #suga scenarios #suga scenario #yoongi scenario #yoongi scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #yoongi imagine #suga imagine #suga imagines #angst #fluff #kpop angst #kpop fluff #bangtan boys #bts #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagines #bangtan angst #bangtan fluff #bangtan scenarios

[doitwritenow]

IronStrange Starter Kit - Master Fic Rec List for all Y’all Because You’ve been Asking and I’ve been Avoiding

Hi! All you anons and askers, I made a list!!! Hopefully some of these are what you’ve been after. :D

(Please reblog this, lol, I spent too much time on it...) 

General rules: These are complete unless indicated otherwise, and end happily unless indicated otherwise. There’s a variety of ratings, as I have no qualms against smut, but I don’t usually read it outside of a larger plot. So I don’t think there’ll be many explicit stories on here. Word counts vary; I indicate general length but don’t go into specifics. What else, uh... Bold stuff is the headers and general subjects. I link the titles. Block quotes are author summaries. Enjoy!!

- 

Okay so first off, there are a couple of Fandom Staples who just have leagues worth of good short stories, and if you haven’t read them, then definitely treat yourself to the array:

A Thousand Futures of Me and You - VisionaryGalaxy (Vishanti, what a legend, ily so much). This is a series of unconnected one-shots, each their own and covering a variety of tropes and moments and themes and AUs. They’re so fun (and/or painful and/or thought-provoking and/or tense and/or sexy)! In-character and amazing, consistantly. 

Prompt Collection -  amethyst-noir (Arbonne). (Also a legendary human). This is exactly what it sounds like: a series of prompt fills in all sorts of tones. You’ll almost certainly find something here that feels like it was just made for you!

Alright, onto the individual stories and series!

Long fics/series:

The of overqualified hands and pi figures series - lantia4ever. (This was my first Ironstrange story, and it is no less magical now.)

A series of one-shots, all set in the same alternate verse in which Tony and Stephen first meet following the events of the first Avengers and then continue to meet after that throughout the canon up until Infinity War and eventually beyond it. Becoming friends - and more along the way.

Time After Time - fancylances. (I love love LOVE this one. Highly recommended.) 

Tony Stark is unstuck in time. Stephen Strange might just be the only person in the universe qualified enough to help.

Citizen Erased - Imagined. (This author. Just... such a wonderful, talented, stunning person who makes wonderful, talented, stunning works. This story is masterful.)

What do you do when no one in the world ever manages to remember you?

Anyone who sees Tony Stark promptly forgets he ever existed after mere seconds. When everyone he has ever cared about has lost their memories of him, he goes to Stephen Strange, possibly the only one who can help him lift the curse. But a terrifying danger is coming, and saving the world isn’t an easy job to do when no one can remember who you are.

if only the gods had mercy on us and it’s sequel a soul too deep - orphan_account. (Vishanti, this series...  It’s so beautiful and emotional and heart-breaking and heart-warming. And it has so few views for so many words! One of my absolute favorites, VERY highly recommended.) 

Tony Stark loved Stephen Strange. He loved him more than anyone could ever imagine. But then a terrorist group attacked the convoy. Then there was a car accident. In the middle of it all, there is tired, battered love. (And, maybe, a little bit of genius)

From the Top - lucifersfavoritechild. (Everyone reads this fic. Written by the blogger Monarch Of The Ironstrange Ship, it’s an MCU rewrite around the relationship. Very fun.) 

“Stephen, if you’re . . . there somewhere . . . when I drift off, I’ll be with you again. I can’t wait.”

|| Personally, I think the MCU would be much better as a love story between Stephen Strange and Tony Stark. Don't you?

Starting from Iron Man, and going all the way to Endgame, with all the appropriate stops in between. Let's take it from the top.

UNFINISHED: Skin Deep - Mystical_Magician. (Super cool premise, and super interesting to read! The dynamic here is very fun.)

A battle that should have finally killed Stephen instead launches him into a parallel universe. Exhausted from centuries as Sorcerer Supreme, he chooses instead to explore this new world in any animal form except human. Having hoped for peace at last, he can't stand to be looked up to, to be responsible for others, to have the world on his shoulders.

If he'd hoped to avoid excitement, however, he really should have stayed away when he noticed an enormous explosion and a falling metal suit of armor as he passed through Afghanistan.

UNFINISHED: The End of Infinity - FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls. (Self rec. Very long, very slow-burn. Canon-compliant Endgame fix-it. I’m trying so hard, lol.)

In 2023, the battle for the universe has been won. At a cost no one can forget, the fight is over—for all but one. Stephen Strange has an idea. An impossible idea spanning dimensions and timelines, life and death, and the lines of good and evil. But he's played impossible odds before—perhaps he never stopped.

All that Loki wanted was to fight, one last time, for the fate of his universe. So when he finds himself fighting for another, crashing into the past, he has a few intended words for the wizard that forced him there. But not before he finds a boy. Or, more accurately, before the boy finds him.

Peter Parker had been waiting for the next mission. He just doesn't expect it to come from the future, armed with a ridiculous story demanding a ridiculous quest. And he doesn't expect not to be able to tell Mr. Stark.

Tony Stark is trying to rebuild from the Civil War, knowing that someday, something will come that he needs to be ready for. And he doesn't know it yet, but two universes are trying to rebuild around him, and that something is already here.

Seven Stones. Five dead. Two universes. And one impossible quest to tie it all back together.

UNFINISHED: Sunrise in Exile - Ragdoll (Keshka). (Another fandom favorite! And for good reason. This is really really good!) 

Tony does the math and realizes their best chance to save the universe is by... not confronting Thanos on his own turf.

So he steals a wizard and a spider and a space ship. And he runs.

(Three humans and an A.I in space, the alien friendships they make along the way, and discovering how science and magic might coexist in a universe where they can be one and the same.)

Shorter plotty ones: 

Out of Suffering - Mystical_Magician. (So this author??? THIS AUTHOR??? Very very good, much yes, very good.) 

Stephen Strange does not like people, but 14,000,605 lifetimes of fighting and dying alongside this small group have worn down his walls. He likes them, gods help him. He might even consider them friends. It’s really for the best that they all go their separate ways once Thanos has been defeated. In their eyes, he’s barely even an acquaintance.

Now if only Tony and Peter would stop surprising him.

moros - spookykingdomstarlight. (Almost got a spot in the angst section. Very good). 

There were fourteen million universes Stephen had birthed into existence and let die and, in far more than he cared to count, the visitor standing before him had become something… dear.

Shaking is Caring - mariadperiad20. (This is just STUNNING. Highly loved.)

5 times Stephen's hands would shake, +1 time they didn't.

It's Kinda Chalky - DestielsDestiny. (This one’s pretty short, but definitely worth it.) 

You can live an entire lifetime by looking into someone’s eyes. His sister used to say that all the time. Stephen never gave it much thought back then. These days, he can think of little else.

Something Magic - Imagined. (Beautiful!)

There is only ever one rule that matters:

do not fall in love with the enemy.

An Idiotic Theory - FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls. (Self rec! I tried to be funny.)

His wizard has been cursed, again, and Tony's already used up his luck for the day.

(Stephen says it's not a curse. He says Tony's whole daily-allotted karma-based luck theory has minimal merit, citing the fact that Tony had come up with it while he was drunk.)

Tony really should have saved his miracle.

Love Through Time - babywarg (morphaileffect). (I love this one. It sticks with you.) 

Tony discovers an old drawing of, and finally remembers, his invisible friend Stephen from when he was a child.

Alternates - doobler. (Super cool!)

After being punked by a lowbrow magician, Stephen finds himself falling through doors to otherwordly dimensions. How will he ever get home?

132 - 28ghosts. (Soulmate AU! Very fun, incorporates Stephen’s time-loop with Dormammu.)

Ninety-nine point eight percent of humans have a soulmate mark that tells them the age their soulmate will be when they meet them. Tony Stark has a mark. It's just that his is...different than most people's.

(Or: six people who aren't Tony Stark's soulmate, and one who is.)

and when the world falls (I will fall with it) - HeavenChild. (Another multichap soulmate AU. Absolutely lovely.)

Tony will give anything to those he loves.

People will take everything he gives before leaving him in shambles.

Rhodhey, Pepper and Vision have had enough.

Or the five times Tony had his heart broken and the one time he didn't.

i saw the end of the world - JumpToConclusions. (Why has no one read this fic??? It’s so good!!! Stephen knows the future since he saw it on Titan, and things grow more complex from there.)

Tony and Strange are trying to make this work, this being remaking The Avengers. ...And maybe they'll stumble into something else along the way.

Tiresome heart, forever living and dying - Mystical_Magician. (R e a d  t h i s  p l e a s e. The mythology is so cool and the symbolism is so beautiful and the prose is so satisfying. One of my absolute faves.) 

As a fledgling crane, Stephen was too curious for his own good, and it was this curiosity that led to Eugene Strange finding and stealing away his feather robe. Trapped in human form, cruelly forged into the perfect son, not even his father's death freed him when his robe was so well hidden. He only managed to break his father's mold after breaking completely in the aftermath of his accident, and slowly gluing those broken pieces back together at Kamar-Taj, but not even magic could find what had been hidden. Enter Tony, after the defeat of Thanos.

Fluffy ones:

From The Outside - Live. (Hilarious.) 

Being a sentient life-form surrounded by humanity can be hard. Especially when said humans just can't admit their feelings for each other.

Sleeping Iron Man - Golden_Asp. (Another fun one. Perfect balance of ridiculousness with a touch of angst to make it interesting.) 

Stephen Strange stared at the Avengers on his doorstep, Tony Stark flung over Steve Rogers' shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "He touched something, didn't he?" "Yuup." or The one where Tony touches Sleeping Beauty's spindle, is put into an enchanted sleep, and everyone, even Rocket Raccoon, take their turn kissing him. But Tony only has one prince charming.

Doctor Ob(li)vious - lantia4ever. (One of my very favorites. So cute.) 

Stephen starts getting some weird looks from the Avengers, spanning across disturbed, confused and even scared all the way to curious. He dismisses it at first until weird turns into knowing.

And knowing turns into realizing...even if the scheming teenagers had to all but paint it on the walls for him to do so. Oh wait...

Applied Combinatorics in Two-Player Games - 28ghosts. (Short and fun and full of snark.)

After a battle, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange argue about games.

-

“Chess is not a solved problem.”

“Has been since ‘97, Kasparov versus Deep Blue. Kasparov, 1; Deep Blue, 2; three draws.”

“Chess is a game, not a problem.”

The Courtship of Peter Parker's Father (Figures) - flyingonfeatherlesswings. (Peter plays matchmaker! Adorable.)

Peter couldn't stand to sit by while Tony and Stephen danced around each other any longer. Something had to be done.

Speaking Eyes - Vrishchika. (Not Steve Friendly. Tony is amazing in this. And Stephen is so fantastically dramatic.)

Tony has always had expressive eyes.

The Signs of Sleep Deprivation - FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls. (Another self-rec. <3)

"Tony said to put the potato in the dishwasher, so that's what I did."

Sometimes, Avengers just show up to say hi. Sometimes, they all show up at once, and Tony makes an party out of it. Sometimes, he invites the snarky, oblivious, somewhat insecure wizard because, and Peter quotes: "everyone else is coming".

Sometimes, something needs to be done.

Show Me Your Scars (And I'll Show You Mine) - Imagined. (Adorable. Lovely. Imagined does it again.)

The worst part is that Stephen keeps tucking his hands away, just as Tony wants to hold them. He keeps hiding them, surreptitiously, no matter what they’re doing. It’s only when Tony kisses Stephen, or hugs him, that he feels the hands settle on his back, uncertain, ready to pull back within seconds.

It only makes him want to cuddle up to Stephen even more, but he backs away, not sure if it’d be welcome.

Promise? Promise. - sharonscarters. (AU, kidfic, absolutely adorable.) 

A four year old Tony Stark runs away from home and finds his Guardian Angel.

What The Doctor Ordered - wakandan_wardog. (Post CW. Kind of not Rogues friendly? So fun, makes me smile. I re-read this one a lot.)

The Rogue Avengers are called back to New York because the heavy hitters are going to be needed against Thanos. Of course, there are some truths that Steve Rogers will need to accept sooner rather than later. Tony Stark has moved on and Stephen Strange will not suffer fools lightly.

Hurt/Comforty ones:

Among The Chaos of The Stars (You're My Safe Harbour) - ShootMeDead. (Oh my vishanti. OH MY VISHANTI. So so so so SO good.) 

Stephen has always been able to hear the stars. Tony is the only one who can silence them.

each night like a white noise frequency - Phierie. (I ADORE THIS FIC. OKAY. I LOVE IT. READ IT.)

Stephen is no stranger to making hard choices. He doesn’t regret his actions on Titan, but months later they weigh on his mind heavier than ever; the cracks begin to show.

Just An Accident - CucumbersInGold. (I really like fics with Stephen’s hands and the difficulties thereabout. Idk, just one of my favorite things. This is beautiful). 

Stephen's hands act up.

Learning, Unlearning - Caaaaaaas. (More character study than anything else. Really good.)

Whatever Stephen wanted with life, life just didn’t seem to know what to do with him.

In which Stephen learns and unlearns some very important lessons.

your eyes have their silence - doctortwelfth. (Oh look it’s another scars fic. I told you I liked them.) 

Tony is gentle with Stephen’s hands even when Stephen forgets to be.

Burning Lines Into The Snow - petroltogo. (Not very Steve friendly. Short and sweet.)

Post CW: It's not just the team that's so broken they are barely able to comprehend how many parts they're missing now, how many have been ripped and twisted and torn. It's Tony as well, right down to the core, the damage so far-reaching even he doesn't know how to fix it.

And then there's Strange, who has his own way of covering the cracks.

Old Bones - CJtheWeeb. (Owch. Dumb geniuses trying to be invulnerable.)

Sometimes Stephen Strange has great days, where he was nearly pain free and his hands still enough to where he could pick up a cup of water and barely spill a drop.

Today was not one of those days.

something taken, something new - meowrails. (So in-character. The premise was a little off to me, but I’m so glad I decided to read this one. I really really like this fic.)

The ChronicConnection implement and app allows a person that lives with chronic or illness-induced pain to transfer their burden temporarily to a willing loved one.

Tony and Stephen sign up as beta testers.

Angsty ones (happy ending unless otherwise mentioned):

day one - days4daisy. (THIS IS SO GOOD OKAY IF YOU READ NOTHING ELSE ON THIS LIST READ THIS).

Three days in Stark Tower. Stephen must be in bad shape if he just agreed to this.

His Merlin - babywarg (morphaileffect). (This author keeps showing up on this list because they are A LEGEND. A LEGEND I TELL YOU.) 

As a child, Tony imagined himself a Knight of the Round Table. Little did he know he would grow up to be a king. And that he would have a wizard by his side to lead him to either glory or destruction.

there is no heart for me like yours - turtle_abyss. (Soulmate AU! Wonderful. <3)

Being able to feel your soulmate - a phantom touch, a bone-deep awareness - is a divine torture. To know, but not see. To seek, but not find. To feel someone holding your hand and not be able to hold theirs.

Grace - StrangeMischief. (*cries in beautiful fic* Happy ending!)

“Pain’s an old friend.” 

Us...Me - StrangeMischief. (This will hurt you. So melancholy. Pepper and Tony live their life, and Tony remembers. Not a happy ending.) 

“I don’t believe in happily ever after.” 

One-Thousand Cranes - FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls. (Self rec, sorry. Hopeful ending.) 

After it all, a man with shaking hands makes a wish.

courtesy - deathofglitter. (Dealing with the fourteen-million futures. So good.) 

Stark looked at him like he looked at the amulet that rested on his chest like a steady promise - dutiful, a bit burdened, and trying to hold a profound lack of personal emotion whatsoever, still personal enough to protect as anyone would a precious object.

La Douleur Exquise - BananasofThorns, StrangeMischief. (More pain. Pepper and Tony, and Stephen watching and trying not to wish. Very good, no happy ending.)

The before was easy. There were fewer boxes in their minds and no chains around their hearts. There was no hurt. No tears. No dreams.

But those days were long gone.

Stigmata - babywarg (morphaileffect). (AU! Soulmates again. Very interesting, beautifully done.)

Since Stephen was little, mysterious wounds have appeared and disappeared on his body, leaving mysterious scars. His mother says it's because he's one of a Pair, and he's absorbing pain meant for someone else.

*wipes brow* PHEW! That gotta a little more in-depth than I first intended... Have fun, my MysticIron friends. Happy quarantine. 

#SHARE THE LOVE #ironstrange #fic rec #fanfiction #ironstrange fanfiction #ironstrange fanfic #fanfic #rec list #fanfic reccomendation #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #tony stark #stephen strange #doctor strange #dr strange #iron man #ironfam #supreme family #supreme family fanfic #peter parker #spiderman #spider-man #ironstrange fic recs

[frogtanii]

It’s wind anon. I know I should react to the Kenma part, but I just went through the update, saw Meiko’s portion and I have feelings that I need to get out because I’m so far gone right now—

I swear, I can break down every single text what the flip is this BS. Meiko, dear, do you,,,have a concussion. Are you thinking. What,,, this is like the time you were underdressed at the restaurant and you ended up getting drunk as heck.

Okay, let’s do the breakdown.

Coming in hot, we see Meiko with “tooru!!!!!!” (Yes, I did count the number of exclamation marks) firstly, the usage of his first name after ‘exiled’ where she raged at him and used Oikawa instead... mood swing much because I cannot believe the audacity of this... and really. First name basis. Trying to be close and to get rid of animosity, but not offering up anything like “hey, I’d appreciate talking to you for a sec if you’re free?” Or an apology for blowing up at him because he did indeed have your back, it’s just that you were the one problem. But yes, the exclamation marks too. A bit childish, obvious excitement...mmmm, I’ll move on to the next section.

Oikawa’s “oh. hey meiko” shows that he really ain’t up for this. First is the obvious low energy. I don’t want to go into depth about that but the “oh” shows that he paused. He saw her message. He answered. And he didn’t expect her to talk to him. Especially with that sort of energy. Mixed feelings towards her. And his “hey meiko”. I would say he is one of the more energetic of the House. He probably would’ve done something like “meiko!!! <3” in response before or something like that. He’s a bit flashy in that regard. But no punctuation. Just a downtrodden “hey” in response.

“don’t sound so enthused” she says. I mean, at the very least it seems she understands and can grasp tone from messages? But I am like “it would be more surprising for him to be enthused? I’m in awe of how you were able to become so enthused after you got yourself crushed into pieces by YN...” Besides that, even if Meiko wasn’t physically hurt, a confrontation of this sort would not lead to anyone having a happy mood? Me glancing between Meiko and all the therapists that were mentioned before because I really hope that we can figure something out because she gives off so many different vibes I am like... “what even goes on inside her brain...”

“can you blame me? you yelled at me the last time i talked to you” and this is the truth. He shouldn’t be enthused. You yelled at him, you disregarded his concern and you showed that you didn’t care for him as a person. Even if there was a circumstance where she didn’t yell at Oikawa, he would reach out first and be concerned about her health. Meiko has no grounds to try and blame him for anything right now. Frankly, I don’t think Oikawa should have even bothered answering her because I don’t think he is in the best place emotionally to deal with her.

“im so sorry sweetheart!!!! i didn’t mean it :(” lemme just day, wind anon cannot believe the BS that this message is. First, she says she is sorry. But really? Really. I can’t even look at her. Look, I don’t know what it is but “I’m so sorry.” Has the weakest apology energy. “I’m sorry.” Fine, decent, the classic and simplest. “I’m really sorry.” Also good! Shows regret. “I’m so sorry.” Sounds like you when you just learn that a person’s family member has passed away. There is something about “I’m so sorry” that doesn’t sound sincere to me and it’s infuriating. Next, the “sweetheart” I might’ve gagged a bit internally. Does she,,, talk like that? Normally? Is that a thing? She’s younger than him...and I don’t know but sweetheart sounds so condescending I literally can’t even— and finally, the “I didn’t mean it” yeah, well, you don’t mean anything because everything you say is BS that’s what you mean. Stop excusing your behavior. There is no merit behind it.

“you know i was just beat up and i couldn’t control what i was saying”. Okay, let’s break this down too. First, trying to incur sympathy by the “I was just beat up.” I cannot believe this gal. And the “you know” for a reference to a person’s knowledge of the matter, it lets them be more susceptible to beliefs. But the “I couldn’t control what I was saying” is complete utter hogwash. I mean, Meiko can’t control any bit of her because she is just impulse. But she excused her inability to control herself by saying it was because she was just beat up.

I don’t know what to say for the next portion. Alone, it’s cute, but put into perspective it’s just manipulation and she doesn’t love him. I’ll just move on.

“what do you need that you can’t ask iwa-chan?” Okay, so he didn’t reciprocate with an “I love you too” so that just shows what type of mood and how effective her words were. It also shows that she always messaged Oikawa when she needed something, because he caught on super quick to that. The “Iwa-chan” is interesting though. I wanna know if Oikawa talks to Iwaizumi after this conversation with Meiko because she is clearly going behind his back right now.

“oh well hajime is being very rude rn. he won’t let me leave my room!!!!” Okay, he had best interests at heart and Meiko...I know every single one of your rooms has a bathroom too. They’re bringing you food. They are letting people go into your room. Meiko, you wouldn’t have lasted quarantine if you’re this petulant now. It’s literally going to be like, 3 days max if you work to get an actual solution. I don’t want to break this down, I feel this is self explanatory. She feels entitled still.

“i know, it’s for your own good” he replies, and that is true but I am also of the belief that it is (hopefully) better for the rest of the house to not be in contact with her so I guess that’s that. Anyway, this shows Oikawa placating her, next

Meiko...being...not pretty. “ugh!!! but i wanna go out!!!!!!” Yeah, she would not have been able to be safe throughout the pandemic. Please,,, you’ll have fresh air if you open up a window,,, I know for certain you don’t exercise,,, please Meiko, shut up already you are making yourself look like more of a pile of garbage than you depict yourself as please I cannot handle the idea that the guys fell for this act—

“you have a black eye babe” okay, the black eye is actually Tooru trying to refer to knowledge that she has. As in, she should be trying to rest and get better right now. (Just curious, who treated her? For the injuries? She raged at Iwaizumi and Oikawa so maybe Daichi?) the babe gives off the placating vibe to me, still low energy, not very affectionate, but it’s there so I’m like “hm”.

“so??? omg are you calling me ugly tooru???????” Well...he didn’t call you ugly. But I might? Because you have the ugliest personality of everyone here. But also, shifting blame onto him. Gosh, I give Oikawa some water. He’ll get a migraine from this.

“of course not. i would never”. Low energy, not elaborating, I think he sees that she is trying to manipulate him, or at the very least he isn’t going to play that particular game. But actually, he runs a fashion channel on YouTube. We know Bokuto runs a fitness one and his header message was something along the lines of everyone’s bodies are beautiful, so chances are Oikawa has the same sort of idea for his channel too. He may criticize fashion, but he would never criticize the people wearing it or the people who made it in a mean way. He would be respectful, and he lets people do what they wish because it’s their choice. I mean, there has to be a reason why Meiko’s fashion is how it is—he doesn’t intrude on matters that aren’t his to intrude upon.

Okay, Meiko. I’m gonna stop trying to format the messages exactly how they are, autocorrect is making my time with them a bit too much, but she says she wants him to take her with him. Okay, starting off, you are really under the belief that he will take you on to a trip he has planned when he didn’t invite you in the first place? Pushy... but yes, her petulance again... me flicking water at her, “you got super drunk because you were underdressed at a fancy restaurant and now you have a face that looks like roadkill, how much do you want to embarrass yourself before you get turned into a pariah?”

Oikawa not knowing how she knows that is clear concern. Someone knowing your schedule when it’s none of their business and not public knowledge is major red flag. The “uh” shows that he is clearly taken aback. The ellipses shows that he doesn’t know what to think.

Okay, Meiko—she is actually able to notice something??? Good golly gee, I am baffled by how she did that when everything else she does is on fire. But the consistency probably gave it in. She may have been looking for him at one point, noticed he was out, and saw the pattern then. But actually, wouldn’t she be good at noticing the patterns of the guys so that she always knows which one to go to and use? Thoughts.... but I’m curious about the fact she said the “same group of absolute losers”. I highly doubt they always go and meet up directly in eye view of the house? Chances are they meet up at a bar or something? This potentially could be a thing where Meiko was stalking them? It would be interesting if she saw them while she was out as well—and if yahaba and kyoutani noticed her around before too. Also, her saying “you ain’t slick” like,,, Meiko, have you looked into a mirror. Can you see.

Oikawa defending his friends, we stan. Let’s move on though: “they’re so much younger than you?? and yahaba is def not cute lmao” me, doing like the... monkey meme where they look away because I am just like??? Meiko, you’re younger than Oikawa. I bet Yahaba and Kyoutani are your age. And anyone younger than you is a loser huh? That’s why you look at Bokuto and YN like they are dirt beneath your feet. (And Yes, I do remember that you put Bokuto and YN as the babies of the house, this reoccurrence is very well done). And she went and insulted Yahaba directly like...you’re talking to his friend? What are you doing? Excuse me? I beg your pardon?

And the ellipses strike again— and Oikawa is fishing for information because we have seen him—he listens to logic. And Meiko... her emojis... wind anon be flicking more water at her, she is too much. Also. Kyoutani. She is calling Kyoutani cute. This was the message that made wind anon start this long analysis. Kyoutani, cute? Listen. Kyoutani would take one look at this parasite hanging off his arm with her swollen black eye that was slathered with makeup and her lacking clothing sense, before looking at Oikawa who would be so haggard by then, and then Kyoutani would force her off his arm before grabbing Oikawa and running off with Yahaba following them. There is no way at all Kyoutani would involve himself with Meiko. I refuse to believe he would go for her.

Okay, the two messages after about wingmanning—I don’t want to do a large scale analysis of it. Oikawa really is shown to have good sense for Meiko’s intentions. His intuition is good. And we know that he cares and respects his friends and he focuses on their capabilities. He knows them. Meiko is just...childish in the worst of ways.

“You don’t see the issue with this”. Oikawa really digging in his feet. First, he wished to be in a relationship with Meiko. And here she is, asking for him to wingman to get her together with one of his friends, who may not even like her—and I bet that if it doesn’t go well, she would blame Oikawa for it like really—but I give Oikawa more water for the migraines Meiko induces.

“What?? It’s not like we’re actually together lol”. The laugh out loud at the end really shows how much of a joke she sees this as. She sees him as a joke. And she just crushed all his efforts and actions to try and get into a relationship. And actually...will Meiko ever get into a relationship with another? She has no loyalty. She definitely wouldn’t have ever got into a dedicated relationship with one of the guys. And she would be the type to get upset if they slept around, wouldn’t she? A hypocrite.

“Ugh don’t be like that!!! I’m sure you sleep around too!!” Okay, she is trying to defend herself while also potentially blaming him if he does. It’s just manipulation...I’m gonna move on...

Oikawa’s just done and his “I don’t” holds a lot of emotion. But Meiko’s response back I don’t believe at all. “Oh well that’s your fault, I don’t really give a sh*t if you sleep around hehe!!!” First, blaming him for his choice of only choosing you??? And I highly doubt the second part because she is shown to throw blame and ditch people for negligible reasons—I have no trust towards her words. I do not believe her. I believe she would care. I believe she would blow up at the guy before leaving him.

“Of course you don’t” And there is the utter doneness. He has given up on Meiko in this message. He doesn’t care anymore. He was already not in the mood for her when she first messaged him, he doesn’t want to see her at all anymore. He’s given up.

“So you get it!! Perfect!!!!” Please, wind anon has written so much already, her eyes are sweating everytime she has to look at Meiko being like this hhhhh. “I’ll be ready at like 9pm? Come by my room!! Actually no I’ll come by yours” and her usage of emoji. Get her away from me and everyone in PF. She’s toxic. Send her off with hazardous waste. Also, she deliberately changed from her room to coming by his. She is cutting off him so he has to go with her, he can’t just sneak out and not wait at her room (though she did offer a time so he could just go out now and ditch her presence completely). But it would be amusing if he did something like lock his door, (either after he’d go out or if he wold leave through window) and she would just be there waiting all decked out in her clothes and makeup pounding on his door. He wouldn’t answer and the others would see her out of her room (a misdemeanor). And then she would have to make an excuse. But it would be hard...because Oikawa has text evidence of Meiko going against Iwaizumi to just play like this.

“And if I say no?” Says Oikawa, who is testing the waters—very smart. We approve. “You won’t.” She replies, because she is terrible and we hate her controlling, manipulative, abusive self and we would all fight her. And she ends it off with a “great!! see you then!” Because she has to have her way and the last say.

Okay, wind anon is done

Completely. Utterly done with the analysis and reaction for that. Might not get to Kenma and YN analysis because I went off in this one but just know I appreciate it and I’ll try to get to it—just,,,not today.

I hope Oikawa sends these screenshots to like, Iwaizumi at the very least but it would be even better if he just drops it in a group chat with Daichi and Osamu instead and asks them to keep an eye on her for “her own safety” and ask her to stay in her room. She’s too daring and if she blows up on him after, he will receive more evidence of her being terrible. And of course, he’s smart. He’ll definitely block her number when he doesn’t want to bother with her anymore. Okay, wind anon is ending here. The ask is too long. I think it’s the longest ask I’ve ever sent. I wish you well fr0ggy. I hope your sleep is pleasant and you wake up very rested and refreshed!

WOO LONG POST!!!! i cannot nearly respond to all this!!!! but!!!! i am in Awe??? text by text???? i love this????? ur so amazing i <3 u

#j’s asks #anons babey #℗ poker face #wind anon

[raendown]

Another follower milestone gift fic! @uintuva asked for the prompt word somnolent!

Pairing: TobiramaKakashi Word count: 1919 Rated: T+ Summary: Kakashi hurries home, excited for something he honestly never expected to be excited for.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

To Bed, Perchance To Sleep

In the privacy of his own mind where no one would ever hear him being this ridiculous Kakashi wondered, if he were excited enough, whether he could vibrate out of his own skin. With every step and push he could practically feel nervous energy gathering in unexpected places inside of him until he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop moving when he finally did make it home. 

He was going to babysit. 

What he wouldn’t give to reach back in time and see how his younger self reacted to the news that he was actually excited about this. For years he’d held firm to the belief that he didn’t like kids and kids didn’t like him. If anything he tended to scare them. How time had changed him that he should be pushing chakra in to his legs to run faster just to get there in time to be a part of this. 

Okay so maybe it wasn’t really him that was babysitting, more that Tobirama was the one being trusted with properly caring for such tiny lives, but Kakashi lived in the house too so he got to be babysitter number two by default. If he could get home in time. Somehow even getting himself thrown back in time several generations still did nothing to staunch the habit of taking too many missions and running himself in to the ground without thought. Tobirama was working on that. Which was laughable. 

Hashirama was working on both of them, in truth, and his efforts were at least slightly more successful.

Thin clouds of dust puffed up around his feet as Kakashi dropped through the trees to land in the middle of a road very few would ever find unless they knew where to look, a road that twisted through trees grown of Hashirama’s mokuton so that none could ever pass through here unnoticed. He was so close to the Senju compound he could practically smell the ever present pall of smoke that came from living without electricity. Now the smell of home in his mind; how strange the things that had changed since he found himself in another time.

Several pairs of eyes tracked his progress in to the hidden compound, though none made any move to reveal themselves or stop him. Kakashi bounded past the gate with the sort of energy that would usually exhaust him just to watch from afar. He made his way through the lazy throngs of off duty Senju with light feet, rebounding off of walls and spinning around one granny with particularly bad knees, blithely ignoring the indulgent smiles that followed him all the way to the Senju main house he still had trouble believing he was allowed to live in. Even before he and Tobirama had somehow fumbled their way in to an emotionally constipated relationship he’d been given the honor of calling this his own home. 

Being a time traveller came with some really cool perks and catching the interest of a genius was one of the better ones. 

The front door very nearly banged open when he crashed through it; Kakashi only managed to stop it with a very undignified lunge at the last second, not wanting to scare the children deeper inside. One of the lower clan members who came in to clean the home watched him with an amused smile. Ignoring them, he toed off his sandals and scurried away down the hall until he was pausing outside of a door cracked just enough for Tobirama’s familiar rumble to whisper through. 

When Kakashi pushed the door ever so slightly he was treated to the sight of his partner cradling a small body between his arms and speaking down to the babe with the same serious expression he used when laying out battle plans. A tiny influx of chakra to his ears and suddenly Kakashi wasn’t sure if he wanted to break down crying or burst out laughing. 

“That’s when you add the sulphur,” Tobirama was saying, “but it’s important you do so very slowly or else the solution will spill and it’s very corrosive on human skin.”

“Maa, trying to start teaching them young?” 

His partner looked up at him with a blink and then pouted defensively. “She hasn’t fussed once since I started talking, doesn’t that mean it’s interesting?” 

“I think it means she’s six months old and enjoys the sound of your voice.” 

“Hmph. It could be the science.” 

“Yes, I suppose it could be.” 

Kakashi stepped further in to the room and very carefully did not melt in to a little puddle on the floor when a second figure waved at him from underneath several blankets against the opposite wall. “Kaka-ojisan!” 

How on earth Hashirama and Mito could have two children who looked so much like their father yet still possessed the grace of their mother could be nothing short of miraculous. Although no one had ever worked up the courage to say so to their clan head, most of the Senju had been part of the betting pool when Mito first got pregnant, passing theories back and forth about just how goofy any child of poor Hashirama would turn out. No one had really suspected these adorable little mites. 

“Is it bedtime already?” Kakashi asked, aware his voice carried just a hint of whining protest. 

“After the story is finished, yes.” When Tobirama nodded it was with just a hint of sympathy like he’d tried to put this off for as long as possible. 

“But I didn’t get to play!”

Little Takuma immediately began trying to extricate himself from the many blankets tucked in around him. “I’ll play with you Kaka-ojisan!” 

“Mmn, you will tomorrow,” Tobirama cut the boy off. Before either of them could protest he shook his head. “I promised that we would try to wait for Kakashi’s return but I did not promise we would do away with bedtime entirely. You need sleep, little one, or you will never grow.” 

“You don’t sleep!”

“I am already grown,” he pointed out in a bland tone. 

Kakashi watched Takuma pouting and honestly wanted to do so himself. He’d been so looking forward to this. For the first time in his life he’d been excited to spend time in the company of children. Now it felt like someone had dangled a toy in front of his eyes only to snatch it away as soon as he reached for it and he was uncomfortably aware of how similar to the children he was acting. Such awareness was all that kept the protests behind his teeth as Tobirama instructed their nephew to lay back down. 

Since he had apparently missed playtime Kakashi figured he might as well soak up what he could. Despite the fact that he was already buried under several layers Takuma seemed to enjoy having his Uncle Kakashi come over to tuck the blankets up under his chin, showing his appreciation with a massive yawn that almost cracked his jaw in half. Tobirama murmured a few more lines of whatever experiment he’d been describing as he transferred the babe in his arms to the crib Hashirama had grown for her and then there was little to do but to say goodnight.

“But I’m not sleepy,” Takuma insisted even as his eyes drooped. 

“Of course not,” Tobirama said. 

“I’m really not! I wanna play with Kaka-ojisan!”

He opened his mouth to say more but yawned instead and Kakashi’s heart clenched in his chest. 

“We can play tomorrow, how does that sound?” he bartered. Takuma thought that over. 

“Not now?” 

Tobirama was shaking his head as he herded himself and Kakashi towards the door. “Now is bedtime.” 

A very small part of him hoped that when he looked back he would be met with bright and eager eyes ready to leap out of bed. The rest of him very reluctantly acknowledged that his partner was right, small children that age really did need as much sleep as they could get to grow healthy and strong. Already Takuma’s drooping eyes were sliding shut only to snap back open to half mast in the hopes he could convince either adult that he was okay to stay up. A wasted effort. By the time they closed the door Kakashi was sure the boy would be fast asleep. 

He didn’t need the amused lift of his partner’s left eyebrow to know that his mask was formed around the shape of a pouting bottom lip. Kakashi stuck his nose in the air and turned to march down the hall as if he weren’t feeling a very childish temper tantrum building up in his chest. Unfortunately he only made it as far as a few steps in to the room they shared before Tobirama caught up to him, strong arms sliding around his middle even as one foot reached back to kick the door shut. 

“You got home much later than I expected you to.”

“I tried to be fast,” Kakashi murmured. “Just took a lot longer than I wanted it to.” 

“Mmn, isn’t that always the way.” 

Eyeing the bed wistfully, Kakashi sighed. “You know, I’ve never liked kids all that much but I really was looking forward to playing house with you and all that. Just for a day. Just once.”

“Knowing my brother, I’m certain there will be many other opportunities for him to foist his responsibilities on to us. Mostly paperwork, no doubt, but a man does need some alone time with his wife every so often.” 

“Wanting alone time is something I can understand.”

Tobirama nuzzled in to the back of his neck with an agreeable hum. “Now what do you say we get you cleaned up and in to bed as well?”

“I’m not sleepy,” Kakashi declared with a smile. Pale fingers reached around to tug at the edge of his mask until it fell down around his neck, face exposed to the world. Then those same fingers pulled at his chin to bring him around so he could see the unimpressed look on his partner’s face. 

“Did I ask if you were?”

“But why would I go to bed if I’m not sleepy?”

“Sage preserve me, I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Even as he spoke the words Tobirama’s voice was so tender it would have been impossible to miss the blatant affection in them. He made a big deal out of rolling his eyes and puffing with annoyance but in the end he leaned in to capture Kakashi’s lips with his own, drawing out the kiss until they were fumbling their feet and twisting their bodies to face each other properly. 

“Are you feeling sleepy now?” he mumbled eventually. “Or do I need to convince you a little more?”

“Oh no, I am simply beyond exhausted all of a sudden. Bed time. Yes. Shower and bed. Woe is me but I just don’t know if I have the strength to do it on my own!” In pretending to swoon Kakashi very nearly missed the tender affection worn so openly on his partner’s face.

“I’ll help you,” Tobirama told him. 

Kakashi didn’t bother to hide his interest. He may have started his day out excited for something entirely different but maybe a change in plans wasn’t entirely terrible. As his partner had said, there would be other opportunities on other days. For now he was content to follow wherever the man in his arms wanted to lead him. 

Especially to bed.

#rae writes #follower milestone #tobikaka #kakatobi #kakashi #tobirama #fanfiction

[dru-reblogs-stuff]

Check in tag!

Thanks for the tag @corkytheguar :D

1. Why did you choose your url?

My main is DruidX, which has been my handle on nearly every single platform ever since.... well, since the World Wide Web became a feasible thing to have in one’s home ^.^; Because this is the blog to which all other random interesting things are thrown, I thought I’d keep in theme with “Dru reblogs stuff”, for I am Dru... and I am reblogging stuff XD

2. Any sideblogs? If you have them name them and why you have them?

Technically @/dru-reblogs-stuff is a sideblog already. It gets more personal stuff, and also everything I like that’s interesting to me. I keep thinking I should narrow it down further though, and make seperate fashion & star wars blogs, because I rb that stuff on the regular...

@/druidx is my main, and is my Writeblr blog, for, well, all my writing, other people’s writing, and writing related advice/ resources.

@/dru-plays-starbound is the blog I used to rb Starbound stuff, and also post my starbound builds to. I haven’t updated it in a while, thought there’s lots of stuff still to post... I just haven’t had the inclination to fight with a graphics program and screenshots.

@/nine-blessed-hero breaks my naming scheme sadly, but this is now my dedicated Elder Scrolls blog, for art and fanfic. It’s also not as well kept as I would like it to be (I’ve got 600 items in draft to read though and comment on, so it’s slow going).

Finally there is the essentially abandoned @/things-my-rm-says-to-her-lego. This started as an out-of-context quote blog for things my roommate muttered while sorting/ building the old Lego her parents dropped off ~October 2020. I have no idea what to do with it now said roommate is no longer saying strange things to her Lego...

3. How long have you’ve been on tumblr?

I’ve just passed my one year anniversary, 18 May -- or at least, the anniversary of my first post which I’m sure was made only a week or so after I joined. Basically I joined up not long after the Lockdown was made official in the UK.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Yes! It’s just “q”, because I am both lazy and basic.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

As mentioned above, I joined not long after the Lockdown was made official in the UK. Because I had more time, I was looking back at old works and wanting both to share them and to get advice on how to get better. I’d heard somewhere that Tumblr was to writing as DeviantArt is to art, so I figured I may as well join and see what I could get out of the experience. Again, because I suddenly had more time, I bought TESIV: Oblivion on Steam and started to get into TESblr as well as Writeblr (which incidentally, is how I met the wonderful Corky ^.^). 

6. Why did you choose your icon?

I wanted something that reflected my interests (boy do I love Tea :D), but also wasn’t fussy, so I found a site filled with free SVG icons and picked this one out. I’ve had a lot of complements on it, so clearly it was a good choice ^.^ I’ve tried to keep the theme of teapots over all my blogs.

7. Why did you choose your header?

I don’t think any of my blogs have a header because I just couldn’t find anything I liked?

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

Across them all, it’s a “Last Line Tag” game one, posted Sep 22 2020 with 328 notes.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

28, across the board.

10. How many followers do you have?

I feel that’s somewhat defeating the point of not having them public. Let’s just say I have enough.

11. How many people do you follow?

181; just enough to keep things interesting, but not enough to be overwhelmed.

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

No; the most I’ve done would have been an incorrect quote.

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

I’m currently working from home, so it’s a permanent fixture on one of my background virtual desktops, ready to be flipped over to when work is dull or when I’m procrastinating writing.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

I think someone tried to insinuate I’d offended them once, but they hid in the tags and I could never work out if it was my tags they were arguing against, or the post in general (it was a rb). But generally no; I’m Internet Old and just done with the Drama so I don’t engage.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

They can jog on. If I think it’s important, then I will chose to rb it, but telling me I’m a horrible person if I don’t? That’s a surefire way to ensure I dislike you and your cause, and will ignore you out of spite.

16. Do you like tag games?

<Points to this post> I fuckin’ love tag game, my dude. I’m bad at doing them sometimes, but I honestly adore when people are thinking about enough to say “You know who’d want to do this? Dru!”.

17. Do you like ask games?

Slightly less so, because again, I’m bad at keeping up with these things, and a full askbox hangs over my head like the sword of Damocles. But that you chose to poke me with a question about me or my writing that you’re curious about, well; it does warm my heart.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

im-a-seraph-winging-it, rewrit, adelinewriting (though she’s no longer on Tumblr) maybe? idk ^.^; I guess not knowing is one of the nicer things about Tumblr; it makes everything a little more personal.

19. Do I have a crush on a mutual?

Yes. I’m not saying who (it’s sort of embarrassing to be the age I am and have a crush), but they have a unique and exquisite writing style, and I care for it very much.

20. Tags?

I’ll do my usual bods: @aquadestinyswriting @alias-levi , but I’m also curious about @homesteadchronicles @writtenbyrain and @scribeofred (0 pressure tho! I know this is an unsolicited tag)

#tag game #personal

[shannygoatgruff]

00:00:13

Genre: Social responsibility

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/OC

Warning: Language, racial slur, prejudice, mention of the YouTube video

Rating: M+18

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr​

For: @xbellaxcarolinax​ - thanks for lending me an ear and encouraging me to continue writing this story

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on something I saw that evoked a feeling in me. I don’t know Alex or that guy in the video. I don’t own the rights to use him or anything else in my story. I’m just going off something out there on the internet that I wish wasn’t ever there for me to have to write a story about in the first place.

A/N:  So, I don’t know if this is the right time to post this story or not, but it’s been weighing heavily on my heart for some time now. During one of my many Alex rabbit hole stalking internet searches, I came across this YouTube video of him from a few YEARS ago that made me feel a certain kind of way.  Admittedly, I went through a ton of different emotions.  I made a bunch of excuses for him.  I tried to justify him being drunk, young, being from a different country...not understanding his actions.  As a black woman, I was saddened, and a little heartbroken, but I truly don’t think there was any malice behind it.  I think it was just poor judgment on his part. But, in the end, I came up with, he’s a grown man and as a public figure he needs to be more responsible.  

I am in no way trying to sway anyone’s opinion of him, turn you against him, make you seek the video out or anything else.  I just needed to speak MY truth and get my feelings out about the situation. I’ve been the black girl in too many interracial relationships and friendships with people that just don’t get it. I am in no way trying to offend anyone - these are just my feelings.  I just needed an avenue to speak out.  

Anyway, it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it, mainly because I was in my feelings, but I think it’s close enough.      

I’m still an Alex fan and he could get it, at ANY moment...just say the words, Boo!  😍

I invite your comments, thoughts, and feelings...if you just wanna talk, feel free to hit me up.  I’m always open to a good discussion.

With that, 

Be easy!

Thirteen seconds…Nia Howard could do a lot in 13 seconds.  For almost 10 minutes, she had been timing herself to see exactly what types of tasks she could perform in that amount of time.  

In 13 seconds Nia could lace her brand new blue and white checked Chuck Taylor Converse tennis shoe.  She was careful to lace the shoe so the strings were only threaded on the outside of the eye-loops, creating one thick solid line across the bridge, hiding the string feeding into the next eye-loop inside the shoe, just like she liked them. This was a trick she learned in Mrs. Hamilton’s 7th grade Math class, and she had been lacing her shoes that way ever since. 

13 seconds was all it took for her to guzzle 10 ounces of the Dasani water bottle sitting on her desk. She probably could have slammed more of the water down her throat, but she wasn’t that thirsty to begin with. Had she been parched, or had it been something that she wanted to drink, she was sure she could have gotten more than 10 ounces down in that amount of time. 

Nia also discovered that she could refill the liquid nicotine and change the filter in her vape, as long as everything was laid out in front of her, in 13 seconds. She was also able to screw the tank back together, but not put the tank back on the battery base before the timer went off.  That part still took her an additional 3 seconds.  Hmm. 

In 13 seconds, she was able to remove the back of the picture frame, take out the photo, and run her thumb over the glossy paper.  It took less than that amount of time for all of the emotions of the day to come flooding back to her as she stared at their first family photo. 

It had snowed at least a foot that day.  But there they were, outside sitting in all of that powder, freezing. Nia, her boyfriend, Alex, and their then 8-week-old Siberian husky, Vlad.  He thought it would be artistic.  She thought it would be cold.  Vlad thought it was fun, running around in snow deeper than he was tall.  But they were still smiling; they were happy.  They were in love.  

Alex was wearing his favorite navy blue The North Face snowsuit, that he had zipped up to his chin. You could only see the side of his pale face, with his cold red cheek, plump pink lips, and those dark lashes covering his incredible blue eyes.  The rest of him was so bundled up, he looked like the abominable snowman.  He loved the cold and the snow.  Growing up here, these snowy days in Denmark were nothing to him.  Nia, however, wasn’t quite as used to it.  It snowed on the East Coast of the US, but not like it did in Denmark.  Her pink and white snowsuit was more for fashion than warmth.  Sitting in the snow in between Alex’s legs, she was freezing and couldn’t wait for them to finish taking pictures.  

However, his arms were warm around her, and though his lips were cold against the side of her face, she could feel his warm breath tickle her ear as he laughed and told her how much he loved her.  She had leaned against his chest and noted how well her pink and white outfit matched his blue one.  Only her dark brown skin made a contrast against the snow and Alex’s complexion, but she still looked as if she belonged.  

She sat with her feet flat on the ground, knees drawn toward her chest bringing their brown and white puppy, the perfect mix between their two tones, closer to the two of them.  While her head leaned into Alex’s kiss, her eyes concentrated on little Vlad in her lap. She had him turned so the camera could capture his one blue eye and one brown eye, while she gently caressed their fur baby, drawing him in for a kiss on his soft, furry head.  

Could they be any cuter?  They were the perfect family.  They were a good looking couple with a good looking dog.  

Thinking about the day that photo was taken quickly made her mind drift back to the first time Alex told her he loved her. She could vividly remember how he grabbed her face and leaned in for that kiss.  The way he pressed his lips to hers, and how it set off every nerve in her body.  She remembered the way her heart fluttered and how she thought she was going to float right out of her skin. But when he pulled away and looked at her with those blue eyes, he grounded her and brought her right back to the spot where he was. When his eyes shifted between hers, desperately searching for some hint that she felt the same, she knew from that moment that he was the one for her.  That entire encounter, the weightlessness, grounding, feeling his eyes look through her and hearing his heart speak her name, couldn’t have taken more than 13 seconds. She was sure it happened all at the same time.

With everything she timed, 13 seconds seemed like it passed in the blink of an eye.  It was manageable if she had a task to complete, but by no means was it a significant amount of time.  So why did it feel like an eternity, each time she watched that damn video clip?  The more she watched it, the longer it became.  That damn 13-second video clip brought out of her a new set of emotions each time she viewed it.

At first, it was shocking.  She couldn’t register anything she saw because she was too surprised at what she saw. The only thing she could process was the feeling of, Huh? 

So, she watched it again, and this time she did so with a goofy smirk on her face. The smirk was the smirk of embarrassment. Embarrassment for her, for him, for them... for not knowing how to feel.  

She had to sit with it for a few minutes before she could watch it a third time. Instead of just jumping right into again, she decided to go back to the original email and reread the message.  She had been so put off by the video that she forgot what it was that she was being asked to do about it.

When she clicked back on the email from her office and skimmed the contents she could only shake her head. Did they actually expect her to handle this?   Really?  She was a publicist.  His publicist, but come on.  This was asking a bit much, no?  There were 14 other people in that damn firm that could have handled this, even if Alex was her client.  He was still a client of the fucking firm. What was she supposed to do?

Without thinking, she put her thumb to her mouth and started biting the cuticle around her new French manicure.  She had been doing so well with that, too. She only bit or picked at the cuticles on her nails when she was nervous or angry – that’s why she made sure to keep her nail appointments every two weeks. She didn’t want to have ugly cuticles on freshly designed nails.  Now she just wasted 264 DKK.

By the third time she watched the video, she went numb.  She couldn’t tell what she felt, all she knew was her mind wouldn’t let her feel anything.  A million different thoughts and emotions swirled around her, but none of them actually hit her, yet. The best way she could explain it was akin to having an out of body experience.  It felt like the glass desk she sitting at was getting further away from her while her laptop screen continued to get smaller.  She started to see the room she sat in as a person watching this scenario from somewhere else, and as long as she wasn’t directly connected to it, she could continue to disassociate with it. Instead, she could only sit there, with her mouth open, staring blankly at this distant laptop screen, unable to process what the fuck she just saw.  

There were no words. No thoughts.  There was nothing.  Only the feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins and the sound of her heart breaking in a million pieces, as 13 seconds altered the course of her world.  

Ten minutes had to have passed before Nia clicked the replay button on the YouTube video to watch the clip for the fourth time.  She was in a better place now.  She had gotten up, got a drink of water. Practiced a bunch of things she could do in 13 seconds.  She had refocused.  She could watch it now and deal with it with a clear head. She wasn’t sure how many times she had watched it before – it hadn’t registered. She was still in shock from that initial viewing. But, she needed to watch it again because she had to dissect it.  

Placing her chin in her hand, she didn’t give a fuck if she was transferring her Mahogany Shape Tape foundation and Cocoa Bean Black Radiance pressed powder on her palm.  Fuck the papers that were going to be stained from the makeup transfer.  That was a gripe for another day - black women that wore makeup always had issues with the transfer.  It was the plight of the beauty revolution.  She’d fight that battle another day.  Right now, there more important things to deal with. 

Where the hell were her earphones?  She needed to have the audio go directly into her ears.  There was no time to have the sound filter throughout the loft’s office and possibly get distorted. She needed every word to go directly from the computer, in her ear, and into her brain for immediate translation. Maybe she missed something. Maybe she misinterpreted it. Yea…that was it.  This was on her. It had to be, right?

Plugging in her Beats headphones, she placed them on her ears and turned up the volume on her laptop.  She took in a deep shaky breath and hit the replay button for the fourth time. 

Nope, she hadn’t imagined it.  It was still the same.  He was still having fun, hanging out with those same stupid fucking people.  He was still talking in that same drunken tone.  He still thought everything was so fucking funny and laughed at every fucking thing.  

Why did he do that laugh?  It was laugh he used when he was really tickled.  The one that he accompanied by clapping his hands because he was genuinely amused. It was that laugh that she loved the most.  It was that laugh that made her laugh too, usually.  It was that laugh that brought tears to her eyes.  

What the fuck was he thinking? When was he going to learn? There were so many of these kinds of questions she wanted to ask, but did it matter? Did he ever really have to answer them?  It was always going to be different for him for so many reasons. The question was, did she want to stick it out and deal with it?  

This wasn’t the first time he had done something so irresponsible, so insensitive. She knew it wouldn’t be his last.  The problem was, he never seemed to understand why it was a problem.  Quite frankly, she tired of trying to be his teacher.

Just as she sat the headphones back on the desk, she heard the key in the front door lock.  She didn’t want to deal with him right now. She needed more time to digest everything before she talked to him, otherwise, this wasn’t going to be a productive conversation. 

Nia was not the type of person that liked to argue, let alone, have a conversation when she was angry.  Her words were always carefully weighed, and she very rarely said anything out of anger. Hurting someone’s feelings, being misunderstood, and saying something that she would later regret were things that she tried to avoid.  It wasn’t that she was non-confrontational, she was just reserved, that way.  She didn’t grow up in a house where people yelled or used words to hurt each other.  She didn’t believe in doing that, and she wasn’t going to bring that into her relationship, no matter how passionate Alex could get about a situation.  But the way she was feeling right now, all bets were off.  

“Hallo, Vlad.  Have you been a good boy?” She heard his voice from the hallway rise an entire octave as he addressed their 10-month-old Siberian husky.  She could tell by the way Vlad whined and his paws scratched against the hardwood floors that he was jumping on up Alex.  All of that money they were spending on dog training and Alex was still letting Vlad jump on him. Nia shook her head in irritation.  “I missed you, too, boy.  Where’s Mama, huh?” 

Nia remained frozen to the spot.  She did manage to reach for her vape, on her desk, and noticed how the muscles in her neck and shoulders shook with tension.  Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to unclench her jaw.  She just needed a few more minutes to herself.  If he could just go upstairs, or in another room and leave her alone, she would be able to talk to him about this later. But, knowing him, that wouldn’t happen. 

He would keep pushing and pushing until he found out what was wrong with her and before she knew it they would be in a fight.  A fight that she would be actively participating in.  

“Babe?” He called out, making his way across their loft.  His voice getting closer to her office door. “Hey, babe,” he awkwardly raised his hand in greeting, to accompany his words, followed by his thousand-watt smile. “I got us cheesecake from a new bakery.  Casper speaks highly of them.”

Nia looked at her boyfriend and she could feel the hot sting of tears forming at the back of her eyes. Immediately, she dropped her gaze, not wanting to address him or the situation at the moment.  She managed to nod slowly as she continued to work her now jagged cuticle.

To the rest of the world, Alex Høgh Andersen was the model, actor, and photographer that walked on water, ate bullets, and shit ice cream.  He was the sexy heartthrob that had over a million Instagram followers.  The guy that couldn’t post a picture of taking out the trash without it being sent over 5 continents and 35 countries in a matter of minutes.  He had over 2,000 fan sites, and countless fan fictions written about him…fans adored him the world over and he was only 25. He was fucking perfect.  

To Nia, he was just her Alex.  Her clumsy, silly boyfriend, who never put his clothes in the hamper and always left the toilet seat up.  He was the guy that loved to cook but never cleaned the dishes.  He was the one that was always singing or beat-boxing or banging on something trying to make music.  He was always tried to make people laugh.  He was loud, goofy, and drank too much. He smelled awful after a workout and had the messiest bed head when he let his hair grow.  He sometimes smacked when he chewed and always talked with his mouth full.  He was a clown, but he meant well.  He was sweet, and thoughtful and always treated her like she was the most important woman in the world.  

Nia never had one reason not to trust him...until now.

“Baby,” he took in the expression on her face and rounded the glass desk to where she was sitting.  Kneeling in front of her seat, he turned her swivel chair to face him and took her hands in his, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She raised her eyes wide and looked at a place on the bookshelf, right over his left ear. Refusing to look into those beautiful blue eyes of his and lose her train of thought.  She felt the sweat start at her top lip, something that always happened right before she was about to cry, but she fought the urge.  

“Alex,” she tried to keep her voice steady, but she was pumped full of adrenaline and emotion so it shook involuntarily, “what the fuck?” She pulled her hand from him and turned her laptop toward him.  Hitting the play button on the YouTube video again, she played the 13-second clip for him.  

Alex watched himself, drunk as hell, outside of a night club in Ireland with friends.  He asked his friend to do part of a skit from one of his favorite comedians.  He knew exactly what was on this clip.  He’d seen it, and still thought it was funny. “What’s wrong?”

Nia didn’t say anything, she just let the clip play.  Alex’s friend, Danny, this clout chasing, promoter fuck stood in the shot with him.  Out of Alex’s mouth came the line from Kevin Hart’s Seriously Funny Comedy routine, “Go night, night, nigga?”

He had said it low as if he was talking to Danny, asking him to perform the line from the stand-up.  So what does the little hanger on do?  Danny, who is black, does a really bad, really loud Kevin Hart impression for Alex and the camera, “Go night, night, Nigga!”  

Alex then comes back in the scene and repeats it and they all laugh because it’s so damn funny.  Alex disappears from the screen because he’s laughing so hard, but Danny is still there, shit-talking about having a big dick.  When Alex returns, the two of them end the video with a rousing chorus of “Alright, alright, alright…”  

She didn’t say anything to him, she just looked.  She searched his face for some sort of understanding, some kind of recognition. Something.  But when he turned back to face her and all she saw was confusion she felt her shoulders drop and the first fat tear roll down her face. “Wow.”

“Honey,” he lifted a brow, not quite sure what his crime was.  He knew she didn’t like Danny, but he hadn’t even seen him since he was in Ireland last.  It had to have been a few months. “This was months ago,” he reassured her, with his Danish accent punctuating his English words, “I know you think I drink too much and you don’t like to see me drunk.  It’s no good when it goes viral.  But, we were just fooling around.  It’s nothing to cry about.”  He cupped her cheek in his hand, hand brushed away her tear with his thumb.  His blue eyes moved swiftly between her brown orbs.  “Where did you even find this?”

“Your fucking manager sent it to me, Alex.  They want me to fix this shit.  I’m supposed to make all of this go away.  Me...your fucking black girlfriend - I have to make this racist bullshit you pulled go away.”  She should smack him.  She should.  It would be justified, right? “How in the fuck am I supposed to do that when you think being drunk was the fucking problem with this video?”    

“I’m not a racist,” he said with genuine shock, “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do.” She got up from her chair, suddenly needing to distance herself from him.  “Why do I always have to be the one to educate you?  You are a grown man.  I shouldn’t have to explain this shit!  You DON’T get to say that word, Alex.  EVER.” She pointed a well-manicured finger in his direction, “It’s hurtful.  It’s hateful.  It’s ignorant.  And coming from YOU, it’s fucking devastating.” 

He was confused. What was she so upset about?  What exactly had he done wrong?  Turning around in his place, he slowly stood up and leaned against the desk.  Legs outstretched, arms folded across his chest in a defensive position he could tell that his girlfriend of three years was upset. Not just the regular run of the mill upset, either.  Something he had done had really bothered her.  

“Nia,” he breathed her name with a smirk on his face, “I think you’re making way bigger a deal of this than it is.  Danny was there, he didn’t care.  If I had said something bad, he would have told me.”  He pleaded with his face for her to trust him on this, it was all a misunderstanding.  “We were just joking. Besides, I didn’t say the bad word – the one with the other ending.  I changed it. We were just doing the part from the Kevin Hart comedy.” 

“Alex,” she straightened her posture and spoke very clearly so that he could understand her.  There was something in the way that he was dismissing what she had said to him that was really rubbing her the wrong fucking way, “You are not Kevin Hart.”  She did not crack a smile when he did.  She kept her face stoic and refused to drop his gaze.  “You are not black.  YOU don’t get to use that word, or any variation, thereof.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex relaxed his posture and lifted his face toward the ceiling. Is this what he came home for?  He could have still been hanging out with his friends for all this.  At least they wanted to have fun tonight.  It was a Friday for crying out loud, was this how they were going to start their weekend?  It was the first one in months that neither of them had to work.  They had been planning this weekend for forever, it seemed. They were supposed to be Netflix & chilling, drinking wine, having breakfast in bed…nowhere in their itinerary were they supposed to be fighting over a stupid joke.  

Alex’s hand covered most of his face, as he rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to argue.  He wanted to change out of his hoodie and jeans, and get into some comfortable sweats.  He wanted to feed Vlad and cook dinner with her.  He wanted to eat in front of the TV while they caught up on this season of How to Get Away with Murder, which they promised each other not to watch until they were together.  “Jesus, Nia, why do you always blow things out of proportion?”

“Why do I.. I’m sorry?  Do I always blow things out of proportion?  Really?” She looked around the room as if he were talking to someone else, “Are you fucking shitting me, right now? Blowing shit out of proportion?  Why do you always have to be such an insensitive prick?”  She watched as he threw up his hands and walked out of the room mumbling under his breath.  “Yeah, say that shit in English, Alex, since you have such a grasp of the fucking language.” 

God, she was doing it.  She was doing everything that she never wanted to do when she argued.  She was speaking out of anger.  She losing the point.  She didn’t have one anymore, she was just mad. “Really…I don’t know who the fuck you think you playing with, but I am not the one.”  

Taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch, Alex turned around to face his girlfriend.  He paid particular attention to the way her chest rose and fell when she was heated like this. He had always thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but now her anger didn’t match her beauty. “I don’t know what your problem is, Nia, or what you think I did, but I told you, it was a joke.  All of this, it’s not fair to take it out on me.  You owe me an apology for starting on me for no reason when I just walked in the house.”  

He flopped down on the couch and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He could feel a headache beginning right between his eyes and he knew it was from tension. 

“What part of this don’t you understand?  You offended me. You offended black and brown people all over the fucking world, thanks to YouTube.  I don’t have to apologize for shit.  You and your little fucking troll friend need to be apologizing!” She started walking around in a circle, she felt just that crazy at the moment. 

Nia looked over at the corner to Vlad.  His blue eye and brown eye lowered to the floor in sadness, as his parent argued. Her heart broke for their baby, but it couldn’t be helped. “Obviously your manager thinks this is a big fucking deal if they sent this shit to be fixed.  Alex, you can’t go around offending people.  You are in the public eye, whether you want to be or not. You have fans that are from every walk of life - do you know how many of them you just insulted? You need to be more responsible for your actions and the shit that comes out of your mouth.”  

“Nia, I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.  I hear that word a hundred times a day. It’s not a problem.  It’s in every song. It’s on American TV…Danny and your brother-in-law call me that all the time.  I’m not a racist.  I’m in love with a black woman.”  He found himself raising his voice because no matter what he was saying, she didn’t seem like she was understanding, “One time,” he held his finger up to emphasize his point, “I do a part from a comedy that I like, with my black friend, and you lose your damn mind.”  

“What the fuck, yo?” Was she going crazy? She tried to inhale clean air, and exhale the poison before she spoke, however, it wasn’t helping.  All she could do was rub her temples. “Danish, American...it doesn’t fucking matter does it?”

“What doesn’t?”   

“Your privilege?” She rubbed her temples slowly and tried to crack her neck. “I’m gonna say this real slow so you can translate it into whatever the fuck language you need to understand it.  I don’t care how much trap music you listen to. You don’t get to say that word. I don’t care if you know the words to every Kendrick Lamar song.  You don’t get to say that word.  I don’t care how many black friends you have. You don’t say that word.  I don’t care what my brother-in-law calls you, or me, or the man in the moon.  You don’t say that word.”  

She got closer to the couch and bend down so that he could hear her.  Barely opening her teeth to speak, she made her point crystal clear, “And I certainly don’t care if you are fucking me or a 100 other black girls, it doesn’t make you black.  You still don’t get to say that word!”

“Oh my God, Nia! It’s a fucking word.”

Was she talking to herself?  Was he that clueless?  Where there no words in Danish that meant anything like it?  They had racism all over the world, surely there was a word in his language that used to oppress another culture to the effect that that word had been used to tear down black people, but black Americans especially.  Nia didn’t know what it meant to other black people, she could only tell him what it meant to her.  

“Do you know what’s like to have no identity, Alex?  Do you know what it’s like to still be referred to as the term they used when they listed you in catalogs to be bought and sold like an animal?  It was no different than saying the word ‘cow’ – it was a word to describe cattle. That’s what an entire country thought of people that look like me.  For no other reason than the color of my skin.”  She couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes.  She was so beyond mad that her voice was eerily quiet.  “Those people didn’t do anything to deserve it.  They were just born next to the equator.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

“That word stripped men of their role in the family and made some impotent and others were turned into bucks that were only good for breeding…it broke them. It made women broodmares, whose job was to have babies to keep plantations going.  Families were sold apart no different than how Vlad was taken from his mother because he’s a dog.” She pointed to their puppy hoping that he would understand, “They thought it was okay to do that to my ancestors because of that word. Alex, I don’t care how much you hear that word. When you say it, that’s what it feels like to me. That I don’t exist.  That Nia doesn’t exist. That I’m no different than Vlad. But, here’s the rub - in all the time we’ve had him I have never once heard you refer to him as a dog.  But now you used the word nigga, and you think it’s funny.  So, I have to wonder now, how do you describe me?”

He was dumbstruck. 

He didn’t mean any of that when he said it.  It was a joke.  It was an homage to Kevin Hart.  It was fucking funny.  He understood that she was hurt, but he didn’t quite get why she was hurting. “I see that this hurt you. I’m sorry about that.  It was not my intention.”  He reached out to touch her and retrieved his hand when she pulled away, “If it was wrong, why didn’t Danny correct me?”

“That little fucker?” God, she hated him.  “Because he set your ass up and you’re too fucking stupid to know it.”  She didn’t mean that.  She didn’t want to hurt him just because he had hurt her.  But she was tired of telling him the same thing over and over again. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that little bastard is not your friend?  Do you remember how we met?  The drunken video he posted of you doing the Haka dance that ended up all over the internet? Do you remember how I had to spin that shit to save your career?”  She rolled her eyes and stood up from the couch. “Whenever you pop a bottle, that little clout chaser is always right there with a fucking camera.”  

“He’s not like that, he’s my friend.”

“He set your ass up! It’s a game, Alex!  Black guys play it all the time.  See if you can make your white friend say the word. Only, I’m surprised he didn’t punch you in the mouth afterward.  Cause that’s what they’d’ve done in the States.  But maybe things worked differently in Ireland.”  

“Whatever,” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Alex resigned.  

“Right. Whatever.” Walking back into her office, she slammed the lid closed on her laptop before throwing it and a few files into her work bag. “Un-fuckin-believable.”  She left out of the office and sat her bag on the floor by the door before she walked across the hardwood floors towards the stairs. “Move, Vlad,” she said lovingly rubbing her big four-legged baby on the head.  

Vlad made no intention of moving as if he was purposely trying to stop her from ascending the stairs.  Instead, the dog looked at her, then back at Alex, before turning his gaze back at her. “Vladimir, honey, I need you to move.” She watched as her 50-pound defiant child laid on the bottom step and put his brown and white head on his paws. “Fine,” she said, skipping a step to climb over him and made her way up the rest of the stairs, rolling her eyes when the dog followed behind her.

Alex followed behind them and stood in the doorway of their bedroom watching as grabbed a handful of items; a t-shirt, toothbrush, and hair scarf. This entire argument had been blown way out of proportion. Now she was leaving?  “Baby, where you going?”

“Away from you.”

Tags:   @oddsnendsfanfics​​  @a-mess-of-fandoms​​​ @waiting4inspiration​ @simsadventures​​ @chipster-21​​  @tgrrose​​  @alicedopey​​   @thelastemzy​​​  @naaladareia​​ @alexa4040​​ @absolutelynotanidiot​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​​ @skadithegoddess​​   @geekandbooknerd​​​ @dreamlesswonder86​​ @inforapound​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @cruelfvckingsummer​​ @mummybear​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​​ @honestsycrets​ @jzr201​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @ivarthebloodyking​

#alex andersen #Alex hoegh #alex hogh andersen #alex høgh andersen #alex hogh fanfiction #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #usershannygoatgruff #shannyland #shannygoatgruff #shannygoat #13 seconds #00:00:13 #need to get it off my chest #social responsibility the way I know how #my thoughts and feelings #in my feelings

[lalahbug]

End of Summer - Death the Kid x Reader

Fandom: Soul Eater Word Count: 1,661 My Masterlist Warnings/disclaim: general None Author’s Note: Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the same username, on 10/06/2016. Was revamped/edited in 2020 ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting. Story under cut

          Maka and Kid were sitting on the bench at the basketball court while Soul and Black*Star were playing a one on one game, with Patty being their cheerleader, well until she got distracted. Tsubaki and Liz were planning the party, occasionally asking Kid questions, since the party would be at his house. They were sitting near Maka and Kid so that they could easily ask each other questions

          “I feel like we are missing someone from our guest list.” Kid thought loud-out to Maka, who had just read the list off to Kid, so he wouldn’t freak out over the asymmetrical writing.

          “What about ___?” Tsubaki asked.

          Everyone went silent. Kid just stared at her.

          “Well, she used to be our friend. I sort of miss her being around.” Liz said, to back up Tsubaki, who went quiet and shy from Kid’s cold stare.

          Kid looked away from Liz and Tsubaki and over to the idiots playing basketball. “She won’t come.”

          “It’s the thought that counts, we can at least sent her an invitation,” Maka said trying to change his mind.

          “Fine.” Kid stated and stood up. “I have to go put in the order for the invitations then.” He walked away.

          Once Kid was out of sight. “I didn’t think he would become gloomy at the thought of her.”

          “Well they stopped talking right before school ended and she hasn’t been around since,” Liz commented.

          “Why did they break up anyway?” Tsubaki asked.

          “There was a rumor that they got into a fight, but Kid won’t talk about it. I think she started to feel insecure and inferior to Kid, with him being a reaper. But the truth is they never really broke up, she just stopped talking to him and avoided him. They haven’t talked all summer but he hasn’t really tried more than once to talk to her. She ignored him once, and he never tried again. There was no closure. I think Kid is just hurt and doesn’t understand...”

          “I think they should talk it out, they have been together for like two years.”

          “Death doesn’t approve of ___.” Soul came over, all sweaty with Black*Star.

          “What why?”

          “She’s not strong, she’s very easy to get information out of, unlike the Great Black*Star!” Black*Star gloated.

          “How do you know this?” Maka asked Soul.

          “She told me. I ran into her about a week after school ended.”

          “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

          “Because she’s been training with Stein, to be stronger. So Death will approve of her. I figured they’d be back together by now, so I didn’t feel like it was important”

          “Although he’s unconventional, he is a good teacher.” Liz shuddered at the thought of training with Stein. “Well I am tired of seeing Kid in a slump and I miss ___. So we’ve got to make a plan!” Everyone nodded in agreement.

           ___ was drying her hair after her shower when there was a knock on the door. Wondering who it was, she quickly put the towel down and headed to the door and opened it.

          “Hey, ___!” Maka and Tsubaki said in sync.

          “Oh, hey.” She stood back and opened the door more so they could come in.

          “It’s so nice to see you.” Tsubaki hugged her, which caused ___ to smile and hug her back.

          “It’s nice to see both of you.”

          “So, we did come for a reason.” Maka smiled at ___. She tilted her head to the side in response. “There is an end of summer party at Gallows Mansion. We want you to come.” Maka extended her arm, with the invitation in her hand. ___ stared at it for a moment before taking it from Maka, then looked at her.

          “I don’t think I should go.”

          “You should, we all really miss you. You’ve been with all of us for two years. Don’t just leave us.” Maka grabbed ___’s hand. “Please?”

          “I don’t think, Kid would want to see me.”

          “What about us though? You can just hang out with me and Soul at the party, you don’t even have to see Kid. The whole school will be there, it’s so unlikely you’ll even see him.” She smiled at ___.

          “Okay, I guess.” ___ smiled back.

          “You promise?” ___ nodded. “Soul and I will pick you up on the night of the party, it’s formal so make sure that you dress up, I don’t want you to feel out of place.”

          “I don’t have any dresses though.”

          “What about the dress Kid bought you for a long time ago? It’s really pretty on you and you haven’t worn it in a long time. I doubt Kid will even remember that was the dress he got you.” Tsubaki smiled, easing ___’s mind.

          “He probably doesn’t.” They all giggled and started talking about different things.

          “Oh, thanks. So do you. Where’s Maka?”

          Soul knocked on ___’s door and waited for a moment before knocking again. ___ opened the door.  “Wow, you look great.”

          “Liz needed some help with something at the party, so I was asked to escort you.” He offered an arm out to her, she smiled and took his arm and they left for Gallows Mansion.

          Soul and ___ walked in, with her clinging to his side, a little scared. Kid was up on the balcony, watching everyone. He noticed her immediately. Absolutely beautiful, yet she looked scared. Kid was debating on going up to her when Liz came by.

          “Let her be.”  

          Kid glared at her. “Why?”

          “At least, for now, let her relax a bit and have some fun. Plus, remember what I told you. You’ve worked that out with your Dad, you can work it out with her soon.”

          “I guess,” Kid sighed. “She looks amazing and I don’t like her clinging to Soul.” He grumbled. Which caused Liz to giggle a bit.

          Maka and ___ were hanging out together.

          “Hey, ___, do you want to go get some drinks then sit down?” Maka asked while linking arms with her, she nodded. They walked over to the refreshments table, getting some drinks. “Now let’s go sit somewhere quieter.” Not waiting for a response, Maka dragged ___ into a room with an open door. Carrying ___’s drink for her. Then Maka pushed her into the room. “Sorry!” Then she quickly closed the door.  

          Confused, ___ turned around and tried to open the door.

          “You can’t avoid me anymore.”

          ___ froze before slowly turning around to see Kid standing in the corner. She leaned back against the door, as Kid walked towards her.

          “You look really beautiful,” he looked into her eyes, his eyes seemed sad. She felt heat come to her cheeks. “You’re only making it better by blushing.” He smirked, she looked away and an awkward silence hung there for a moment. “Will you come to sit down with me? I want to talk to you.” The young reaper walked away to sit down. ___ stayed against the door for a moment. “Please?” Kid pleaded.

          She hesitantly moved from her spot and sat down on the couch, but ___ sat far away from Kid.

          “I still love you,” he paused, but she didn’t reply. “I know what my dad said, I wish you would have just talked to me. But instead, you ran.” He glanced over at her, she was listening, but was looking at her hands in her lap. He faced her more and sat closer to her. “I’m sorry for not trying myself, but you should have talked to me. Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

          “Because I don’t want to hold you back. Death told me I am unfit to be with you because I’m not strong enough. I guess I proved his point by running away,” she smoothed out her dress a bit, she was shaking, but kept her words level.

          “You’re strong enough to leave me behind, so I can have a better future. Even though you love me,” he reached over and took her hand. “But my future seems very somber without you, I had to actually find out how glum my life is without you now. I’ve talked to my dad and Stein. They are to stay out of our relationship. My dad has finally seen how happy you make me.” He sat closer to her but noticed her flinching a bit as he came closer.

          “Please come back to me?” Kid kissed her cheek and she flinched again from the kiss. But she didn’t refuse him, nor answered him. “___?” Kid put his hand on her arm, then moved his hand up to her face. Taking her chin and moving her face so he could get a read on her.

          “Look at me… Please?” Kid was almost pleading.

          ___ slowly let her eyes meet Kid’s. His eyes were filled with sorrow. She looked back down.

          “You’re weaker when you’re with me.”

          “No, I’m not. When I have you, I am stronger because I have someone I love and want to protect. I am weak when you’re gone. Don’t do this to us,” Kid moved her face closer to hers, leaning their foreheads together. “Get that shit out of your head. Forget what my father said. I know that you love me.”

          “I do.” Everything she had held to onto, came undone. Tears started to stream, she moved to cover her eyes, unsure why she was even crying.

          Kid hugged her close to him. “You don’t have to be strong. I just need you to be my emotional support and I’ll be your strength.”

          ___ hugged Kid tightly before kissing him.

          “Finally!” Soul groaned, with the gang behind him.

          “Thank you for arranging this.” Kid smiled while ___ blushed.

          “Anything to make sure our end of the summer is happy again.”

          “Yay~! Happy ending!” Patty cheered.

          “But we have school starting Monday,” Maka said happily, earning a groan from everyone.

          “So much for a happy ending,” Liz mumbled, before smiling at the renewed couple on the couch.

#fanfic #fanficition #death the kid #kid x reader #kid/reader #soul eater #soul eater fanfic #lalahbug #lalah writes #reader insert #xreader #self insert

[gummysungshine]

You Can’t Stop the Rain [FFVII Tseng/Rufus]

{Fic masterlist}

Pairing: Tseng/Rufus Words: 1802 Rating: Teen??? Warnings: Ill health, medicating, unbeta’d so there might be mistakes.

Look ma’, I made a dumb header for this fic >w< This is actually the start of a much longer thing I’ve been working on. But I’m unlikely to share the entire thing, seeing as I never end up finishing stuff. This can still be enjoyed as a stand-alone piece though. :)

Set post-game, before Advent Children.

-----

Rain. Strange. He hadn’t expected it that day. The sky had shown no signs, no threat of it earlier on his way back from Edge. With the dark night above Healen, Tseng couldn’t tell how long it might continue.

Heading up the steps to the cabin, cautious of the now slippery surface under his feet, gloved fingers tapped in the key code. 3 times in total. It was a security feature they’d all agreed on for Rufus’ safety, something that Reno sometimes forgot... Shaking his head at the memories of the redhead giving them enough false security breaches to last a lifetime, Tseng quietly let himself inside.

Taking off his wet shoes and coat, nodding in acknowledgement to Rude and Elena as he entered, the pair offered him a smile from their places on the sofas in the room.

“I hope you two weren’t waiting up for me.” He chastised lightly.

“Wanted to make sure you got back safely.” Elena admitted. “Rude kept me company.”

It was already late by the time he got there, past midnight the last time he checked. Since Reno was nowhere to be found, Tseng guessed the redhead must’ve headed off to bed already.

“Get what you needed?” Rude asked, motioning to the damp paper bag their leader clutched.

Nodding, Tseng made his way through the room, stopping just as he got to the other side. “How is he?” He queried tentatively, not caring who answered. The small sigh from the blond told him almost all he needed.

“He’s...” Elena paused, thinking of the best way to put it. “Had another bad episode.”

“Reno’s with him.” Rude spoke up, easing his concerns somewhat.

He figured Rufus would’ve been in a bad way. It was raining after all. Sunshine and clear skies seemed to lift his mood enough to stave away the pain of the stigma. But his suffering only seemed amplified by nature’s melancholic mood. Tseng had always thought the rain made Rufus think too much, dwell on things better left forgotten, things he couldn’t change.   Rainy days often left the hardheaded blond man a shell of his usual stubborn self. If even out of unrelenting spite he wouldn’t succumb to the stigma, it almost seemed to Tseng that Rufus might’ve considered giving up on days like these.

Shaking his head of the thought, swallowing the lump that’d risen in his throat, he quietly opened the door to the man’s quarters— their quarters, he reminded himself. The one he shared with him.

Dark inside the room, as expected, a sliver of light from the adjoining bathroom illuminated the space just enough for him to navigate his way around. Rufus always liked it dark. He could never really sleep too well otherwise.   Shutting the door quietly behind him, Tseng laid his eyes upon the blond as he rested - curled up, rather - in Reno’s hold. Tseng could tell things were probably worse than he thought just by how clingy his boss was. It was just how he was on bad days.

Raising his head, Reno gave the dark-haired Turk a nod, knowing he’d be relieved of his duties— no. Not duties. It was never the redhead’s duty to comfort his boss. It wasn’t his duty to do anything for the blond, in fact. It hadn’t been for a while now. It was a choice. A conscious one.

“He’s been drifting in and out for a while.” Reno whispered. “Think the meds might’ve properly kicked in.”

The blond had suffered bouts of agony intermittently throughout the day, leaving his Turks at a loss of what to do to help. There was never much they could do. Elena always found those episodes the hardest to watch, leaving the others to kneel at Rufus’ side as he beared the pain. Thankful for the pain meds, no matter how spaced-out and drowsy they made the blond, Reno was just glad they gave the man some respite from his affliction.

“He’s been mumbling stuff.” Reno spoke up again. “Dunno what. Sounds Wutaian to me.”

Wutaian?, Tseng thought. He’d taught Rufus a few things over the years, but they were scarcely used. He himself rarely spoke the language. There was no need to. After all, nobody else around him could. One of the only times he did was in the bedroom... Rufus seemed to revel in the way Tseng uttered his feelings in his native tongue; the declarations of love, his adoration, his praise, as they made love.

“Did you get more meds?” Reno’s whispered voice yanked him from his thoughts.

“Hm.” He nodded. “Stronger. So they should work better.”

Getting hold of most painkillers or medication was becoming far more difficult than ever. The call for them only seemed to increase with each trip they took out. But it was to be expected, considering the number of geostigma cases only seemed to boom with each passing week. It seemed the title of Shinra’s President held no weight anymore, Rufus was just another suffering soul like the rest of them. He could expect no special treatment, and it showed. Trying more traditional, natural means of treatments - native to his birthplace - Tseng hadn’t had much luck either.

Tseng knew if it weren’t for them, the Turks - or what was left of them - Rufus would be very much alone. Or worse. It didn’t bear thinking about what would’ve happened if they hadn’t had found him at the bottom of the office’s escape chute, or saved him from everything else that followed.   He couldn’t be left alone. Too many people in the world wanted a piece of Rufus, whether to kill him or simply see him suffer at their hands. Too many close calls had been where Tseng drew the line. Even if Reno, Rude, and Elena hadn’t chosen to stick around, Tseng vowed to protect him until his dying breath. Just as he promised all those years ago once he earned the title of a Turk.

“You can go, Reno.” Tseng smiled faintly, keeping his own voice bearly above a whisper. “I’ll take over from here.”

Moving over to the opposite side of the bed, placing the bag of pills upon the nightstand with the plethora of others, Tseng watched the redhead carefully peel himself away from Rufus’s grasp. He did his best not to disturb him too much, an action Tseng was grateful for.

“Thank you.” Speaking his thanks to the younger Turk, appreciative of staying by their boss’ side, Tseng let the redhead slip out from the room quietly.

Watching Rufus stir, now alone in the bed, Tseng quickly but carefully slid down beside him, lying next to the blond. If things were as bad as they said, the last thing he wanted was to disturb him from his slumber.

“Shh.” Tseng murmured as Rufus rolled over to face him, eyes beginning to flutter open with a groan.

Fingers grasped at the front of his shirt, clinging weakly, as Rufus curled himself against the Turk.

“Tseng...” Came his feeble call, almost inaudible, eyes fluttering once more as he tried desperately to look at the Turk through heavy lids.

“Shh.” He soothed again, a thumb brushing against his cheek. “I’m here.”

Waiting for him to settle down quietly, letting out a sigh of relief as he seemed to slip back into his slumber, the Turk lay there listening to his steady breaths. He seemed comfortable in his hold, not in any visible pain at least. Good, Tseng smiled gently. That was all he wanted.

Still in his rain dampened clothes, he considered perhaps he should’ve changed first, or at least got himself out of them before joining Rufus in bed. Too little too late now, he thought. He’d have to wait until he was sure he wouldn’t disrupt the blond’s sleep.

It took only a few minutes for Rufus’ breaths to even out, slow and steady, telling him he’d drifted off fully. Confident he wouldn’t wake him, the Turk peeled himself away from his slumbering superior, finally getting out of his damp clothes and into something far more comfortable.   Making little to no noise as he rejoined him back in bed, all thanks in part to stealth training - among others - that came with the job, Tseng froze still as the blond curled back up beside him, hearing his native tongue come from the man.

“I love you.”

With a soft smile breaking out upon his face, he pulled the blond closer in his arms, cradling him almost as he placed a kiss atop his head.

“I love you.” He whispered back, closing his eyes, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of his lover’s hair.

Whatever prompted the declaration, in Wutaian no less, Tseng wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was the meds playing around with Rufus’ mind, hazy and unaware of what he was saying. Or maybe he was fully aware. Either way, it brought a smile to the Turk’s face.

Running his fingers gently through flaxen strands, cuddling Rufus close in the darkness of the room, the soft breaths of his boss let him know the man was hopefully settled for the night.   Outside the room he could faintly hear chatter from the others. Unable to make out exactly what was said, he remained grateful the three of them kept their voices to a minimum. Though it was late, Tseng guessed it was likely Reno keeping them up with his seemingly endless energy. Keeping him cooped up at the lodge didn’t appear to help the boundless spirit that was the redhead. Perhaps he’d assign him for the next trip out, give him some time to stretch his wings, so to speak.

Tseng never liked leaving Rufus anyhow, but he couldn’t keep passing off duties to the others for the sake of staying by the blond’s side, even if the others offered to head out in his stead. He could never accept their offers, as much as he wanted to. As the Turks’ leader, he still had to do his fair share of the work. But days like these made him never want to leave Rufus ever again. The fear of getting that dreaded phone call, or returning back to find his lover had succumbed to the stigma, almost paralysed him.

While his condition wasn’t terribly poor, at least not in comparison to others he’d seen, Tseng knew it was still spreading. Slowly but surely. More and more of Rufus’ body laid hidden under layers of bandages, his form growing weaker, the sickness zapping him of his strength. He could only remain strong for so long before the effects hit him like a freight train, just as they’d had now.

“I’ll end this.” He whispered softly in his native tongue, pressing another kiss atop the blond’s head once more. “I’ll find a cure. I’ll find something.”

#FFVII #Rufus Shinra #Tseng #Tseng/Rufus #Tsengru

[forged-through-trials]

Everything was in place to take down Audens Avidius. All that was left was to wait out until the morning, while keeping a look out to make sure nothing happened to Lorunk and Ruslan. That out of the way, it was time to rest and wait until morning.

On the trip back to the Market District, we passed through the Arboretum, and who should we run into on the way, but Thoronir; our mark for the scheming price-gougers Society of Concerned Merchants’ job. Well, I’m not exactly happy with Jensine right now, given the stunt she pulled, but hey, I figure it’s still worth looking into his operation. Trials: “Ho, you’re ‘Thoronir’, right? I hear you’re cleaning up right now. Might I ask about your inventory?” Thoronir: “What about my inventory?” Trials: “Where’s it come from?” Thoronir: “Well, that would be a trade secret. I can’t divulge how I pass the great savings on to you, now can I? “Just like a baker not revealing his best recipes, or a clothier guarding his best designs, or a butcher not revealing where he gets his meat from--” Trials: “I’m not sure about that last one. I feel like I’d be more comfortable knowing where my meat comes from.” Thoronir: “Suffice to say, my sources are quite reliable and low cost. That way, you walk out with a full coinpurse.” Trials: “...you’re a really happy businessman.” Thoronir: “Why shouldn’t I be happy? I’m making a killing. And it’s the kind of ‘killing’ where I don’t have to eat anyone.” Trials: “...wat?” Thoronir: “IDidn’tSayNuffin’.” Thoronir rushed off after that, vanishing into the dark of the night. But I gave chase, sneaking after him. He made for the Market District, and I followed him through, tailing him carefully.

It was close to midnight as Thoronir approached a garden somewhere behind Rindir’s Staffs and Edgar’s Discount Spells, and I followed after, hiding against a corner, as a blond Nord approached, and spoke with him. I leaned in as close as I could, and listened in. Thoronir: “That you, Agarmir?” Agarmir: “Shhhh! Not so loud. How many times have I told you that?” Thoronir: “Sorry, I am not used to this kind of meeting. It always makes me nervous.” Agarmir: “Well, just shut up and listen to me. The next shipment will be sooner than I expected. Just have the money ready.” Thoronir: “Same assortment of things? I mean, I have enough clothing for now.” Agarmir: “You take what I get! I get notice at the last second, and I have to jump on it. No time to be picky about it.” Thoronir: “Well, that Society is putting more pressure on me. So maybe we better cut back for now.” Agarmir: “You cut back now, and I’m going to take my business elsewhere. Or maybe pay a visit to that Jensine and tell her about your little scheme.” Thoronir: “Fine, you made your point. Contact me when you have the items, and we’ll meet again.” Agarmir: “Don’t worry, it will be very soon. Now get outta here.” Jeez, that was about the rudest transaction I’ve ever heard that didn’t involve me. We have some literal back-alley deals going on. Something shady is definitely going on here, or else why would Thoronir need to meet his contact in the middle oft he night? Agarmir was our next lead. As the source of Thoronir’s ultra-cheap wares, he’s the one to tail to discover what the nature of this shady business is. We gave chase after him, and followed him over toward the Talos Plaza District. There, he entered a house, presumably, his. Now, breaking into a place while the owner was there is a pretty dangerous move, so I gave him an hour to, hopefully, go to bed... only to find that he’d barred the door. Who the hell barricades their door when they’re at home? Is he expecting a zombie horde or something? So that was a bust. As long as Agarmir was home, there was no getting into his house. Out of options for the moment, Ruin and I retreated back to the Market District, renting our familiar room at the Merchant’s Inn and turning in for the night. The morning came, and it was time to check on Lorunk and Ruslan. Ruin and I rushed on over to the Temple District, and met up with the pair once they’d exited their houses. I explained my intentions to escort them, and followed to duo over into the Elven Gardens District, where they sought out Captain Hayn.

Ruslan: “We’d like to report a crime. Watch Captain Avidius stole all of our money while we were shopping in Jensine’s Merchandise.” Lorunk: “That’s right!” Itius Hayn: “I see. These are very serious charges. I’ll need you both to provide two witnesses to the crime.” Ruslan: “...but we are the witnesses.” Itius Hayn: “You can’t expect me to just take your word for it. If I did, something might actually get done in this city!” Trials: I leaped out from a corner and screamed. “Just do your job, jackass!” Itius Hayn: “Ugh, great. Internal Affairs will be on me like kitty-litter on a Khajiit. I’ll be filing paperwork for a week after this, but, fine!” Our two witnesses rushed home after that, but I tailed Hayn for the moment. I really wanted to see the moment when Avidius got what was coming to him.

Back in the Market District, that is exactly what went down. Itius Hayn: “Audens Avidius, you are under arrest for extortion and petty theft. Surrender peacefully and keep what little dignity you have left.” Avidius: “I’m surprised, Ititus. I didn’t think even you would stoop to arresting a fellow Captain.” Itius Hayn: “Only those who break the law.” Avidius: “Damn, and I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for those meddling lizards!” Trials: “Have fun in the dungeons, jerk-face!” Avidius: Increasingly unhinged. “Someday, I’ll get out, and when I do, you’ll pay! You’ll both pay!” Trials: I crossed my arms and smirked knowingly. “Take him away, boys.” Itius Hayn: “Hey! I give the orders here!” He turned to two generic guards. “Bake him away, toys.” Generic Guards: “...huh, what?” Itius Hayn: He flushed awkwardly. “...just do what the lizard says.”

It was late afternoon by then, so, feeling good about a day’s work well done, Ruin and I swaggered back on toward the Talos Plaza District, where we tried Agarmir’s door again. Success! This time it was unbarred. We gave a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear, and then broke in. Ruin: “Where did you learn to pick locks and break-and-enter this way?” Trials: “Ruin, Ruin, buddy, we’re not ‘breaking-and-entering’. We’re... investigating.” Ruin: “Without a warrant or probable cause?” Trials: I rolled my eyes at him. “Well, you can feel free to hang out here and find me two witnesses. I’ll just be in here, doing my job.” Ruin: “You know what? You’re right, that system is stupidly obtuse.” In, we went, and I zeroed in on the basement right away. I figured, it was more likely he was keeping shady stuff down there, than it was likely he was keeping stuff in his bedroom. Down in the basement, the place looked a sight; blood stains, clothes strewn about, and piles and piles of a mysterious powder, as well as muddied shoes and shovels all over the place. On a corner table lined with candles, I found a book labeled as “Macabre Manifest.” ...really strange name for a book. Points for the alliteration, but that’s pretty on-the-nose considering that I presume Agarmir is looking to hide his dirty-dealings.

The contents of the book confirmed what the title implied. Again, not sure why Agarmir wanted to advertise this. Was he worried he might forget what his business was all about? And indeed, the contents of the book revealed the ghoulish details of Agarmir’s business. If the big header at the beginning of the book that read “Recently Deceased” was anything to go by, it seemed the stock he was selling to Thoronir was obtain via grave-robbing! Huh, if he’s stealing from the dead, maybe he is worried about zombie hordes coming to exact their revenge after all. Ruin: He snorted, gritting his teeth. “Grave-robbing? How repulsive!” Trials: “...Ruin, we nick stuff off of dead people all the time.” Ruin: “There’s a vast difference between slaying a bandit in combat, looting the spoils, and robbing from the honored-dead.” Trials: “Really? Because the only difference I see is that robbing the ‘honored-dead’ means you’re messing with people who had money and/or connections.” Ruin: “I think it’s a bit more complicated than just that.” Trials: “I don’t think it is.” Ruin: “Well... we’ve been hired to prove Thoronir’s stock was ill-gotten, and even if this system doesn’t make a lot of sense, by their clown-shoes logic, Thoronir’s stock is indeed ill-gotten. We have what we need to get paid.” Trials: “...hmm, true enough, BUT, I don’t feel good about selling Thoronir up the river like that.” Ruin: “Why?” Trials: “Because Jensine’s a bint and I don’t like her face. “Besides, I have a hunch that Thoronir doesn’t know what’s going on. Let’s confront him and see how he reacts to this evidence.”

We jogged back over toward the Market District, burst into the Copious Coinpurse, and slammed the book down on Thoronir’s desk. Trials: “Hey, chief. We pinched this from Agarmir. It’s proof that the stock he’s been selling you is obtained via grave-robbing.” Thoronir: “Oh! A little ghoulish... but I do buy things from adventurers who take things from fallen enemies all the time!” Trials: I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “That’s what I said!” Ruin: He sighed and shook his head. “Sir, whether or not it makes sense, it is the law here in Cyrodiil, and is a capital offense here.” Trials: “...Ruin, why does grave-robbing carry the death-penalty, but necrophilia is only a five-hundred gold fine? I feel like that’s backwards!” Ruin: “...” He paled visibly. “How do you know that?” Trials: “I know a very strange Dark Elf over in Skingrad.” Ruin: “...” He sighed and groaned. “This place is weird.” Thoronir: He paled a little. “Well, if it’s so disreputable that I could get into serious hot-water for it, then you’ll have to put a stop to it at once. I’ll fully cooperate with your investigation, of course, provided you put in a good word for me.” Trials: I gave a friendly salute. “Absolutely. Now, can you tell us what Agarmir might be doing right now?” Thoronir: “He mentioned having ‘something important to do’ today. You don’t think he would dig up another... oh no, he wouldn’t. But I guess he has been! Oh my, what have I gotten myself into??” Trials: “Calm down. We’ll get him. We just need to know where to look.” Thoronir: “Well, assuming he’s still in the city, you’ll want to try Green Emperor Way. It’s the largest graveyard inside the city walls and the likeliest place for him to... uh... ‘do business’.” Trials: “...grave-robbing right under the Emperor’s nose? By the Nine, that sounds really dumb! How has it taken this long for anyone to figure out what he does??” Thoronir: “His beard emits pheromones. It’s the only logical answer.”

Ruin and I raced over to Green Emperor Way, and as we ran the circuit, looking for signs of Agarmir, we noticed the door to the “Trentius Family Mausoleum” was left ajar. Well, if Agarmir was going to roll out the red carpet for me, I was going to take it. We rushed in, and immediately found the Nord himself, and an armored accomplice, within. Agarmir: “I had a feeling you’d catch on sooner or later.” Trials: “We’ve literally never spoken before.” Ruin: “Maybe he also prepared this speech in advance?” Agarmir: “Oh, shut up, both of you! The door locked behind you as you entered, and I’m going to murder you both and chuck you into this unmarked grave.” Trials: “But, it is marked. It says ‘Trentius Family’ on it.” Ruin: “Do you think that, after he buries us alive, he’s going to dig us up and rob our things?” Trials: “See, if he were smart, he’d kill us first, then take our stuff, so that way it’s actually legal.” Agarmir: Increasingly Irate. “Are you two even paying attention?? I’m threatening to murder you!” Trials: “...since we’re in a mausoleum, is it still legal to loot him and his friend when we defeat them? Or would that be grave-robbing?” Ruin: “I do not know. Cyrodiil’s legal code makes no sense to me.” Trials: “Well, as long as there aren’t two witnesses, I think we’ll get off with a warning.” Agarmir: Grinding his teeth. “Stop ignoring me!” Trials: “Wanna go eat at the Feedbag after we’re done here?” Ruin: “You always choose the cheapest places. Why can’t we eat at the Tiber Septim Hotel?” Trials: I offered Ruin the Stink-Eye. “Well, well, lookit Mister Moneybags over here! Do I look like I’m made of Septims?” Ruin: “All I’m saying is; we’re going to be paid for this job, and we’ll only be in the city for a few more days. Let’s try somewhere new.” Agarmir: Deadpan. “You both are horse’s asses.” Trials: “Okay, okay, we’ll compromise and hit up Luther Broad’s Boarding House, deal?” Ruin: “Deal.” The fight was on... and over rather quickly. Turns out, when you show up to a sword-fight wearing your working clothes, you tend not to last very long. His backup lasted a little longer, but with two-on-one odds, we took him down quickly, too. Then, legal or not, I pinched their stuff, and left them for the guards to find and clean up. On the way out, I picked up the soil-stained shovel Agarmir had been using to dig up the Trentius Family plot. Given the... strained legality of all of this, the more evidence I had to prove Agarmir’s guilt, the better. We reported in to Thoronir once we were done, and presented him with Agarmir’ shovel as proof of his defeat. Thoronir: “Then we can at last rest. I feared had he somehow bested you, I’d be next. It’s fortunate that your skills exceeded his. “I’ve come to some decisions. I intend to donate all of the money I have made, as well as what is left of the stolen items, to the temple.” Trials: “That might square you with Arkay, but otherwise, you’re just lucky the guards in this town are super-duper lazy.” Thoronir: “I also want you to know that I had a long discussion with Jensine, and I have decided to join the Society.” Trials: “Bottom text.” Thoronir: “...” He rolled his eyes. “No, I mean, Jensine’s Society for Concerned Merchants.” Trials: I frowned and scowled at him. “Oh, so you’re selling out, huh?” Thoronir: “That’s capitalism, baby. The biggest sellout always wins! “But I realize you risked your life to give me a chance, and Thoronir never forgets things like that. Please, accept this ring... and store credit.” Trials: “...friggin’ smart-alleck.”

Hoping to get some kind of real payment out of this, we made for Jensine’s to offer my final report. Trials: “And that’s the whole story.” Jensine: “Oh yes, Thoronir spoke with me while you were out. He explained his intentions to donate to the local temple, and to join our Society, and fix prices with us buy and sell at a ‘fair’ price. “In return, the Society has decided not to press charges. His name will be absconded from the records of this crime.” Trials: “...” I set my hands on my hips. “Lady, you wouldn’t press charges against Audens Avidius, but you considered pressing them against Thoronir?” Jensine: “That was different. The first one was out of spite! While the second one--” Trials: “--Would have also been out of spite.” Jensine: “...” She scowled. “Just, shut up and take your gold!”

#the elder scrolls #oblivion #modded #let's play #roleplay #ask blog