#can you tell i love pocket sized moth people

[kaiju-krew]

Hello!!

Okay, first of all: I LOVE YOUR ART!!! I've been following you on Twitter because I didn't have tumblr until now (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

Are you planning to do more gijinkas? Goji and Mothra are so beautiful and I'm curious if you are gonna do more characters? Like... Idk, Kong? (I'm sorry, I love that guy)... OR Shimo! I know Shimo is very new, but I think her/his design is very pretty.

That's all, have a nice day ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃

(Sorry if my english is bad, I'm spanish)

hallo!! ahh thank u sm<3 your english is great btw!! :D

oo welcome, tumblr is great imo =w= it may not be as popular as twitter but it's mostly chill and i love how much easier it is to chat with ppl

i am working on more actually! I'm currently working on a new set of 3, but I'm lowkey loving shimo a lot so i may have to sneak her in too she's a girl to me until the movie crushes my dreams but yess i'm currently working on rodan, kong, and biollante :3c

buuuuut it'll likely take me a while to get them out bcuz like 95% of my art time rn is dedicated to working on stuff for the comic con i'm gonna be vending at. but once that's done i'll be free and clear to spend all my free time on them.... im honestly dying to work on them more but im gonna make it a reward for myself for finishing all my con art lmao

as a littol bonus...... i used one of those height comparison things to make sure everyone is scaled properly - it'll give you a sneak peak on the other ones i'm thinking of doing in the future /o/

#honestly i made this a month ago and i already want biollante to be taller so expect that retcon when i finish her design lmao #can you tell i love pocket sized moth people #because i do #*adds leo because i have a mighty need to create a mothtwink design* #dont even worry bout that im mentally normal #ignore me i get silly in the tags #tbf if you're a tag reader you get the secret deep lore it's like a special little treat #like finding out goji is the bottom #there it is again #almost like it's true or something #this is why tumblr is superior to twitter #if i spoke about moth twinks or bottom!goji on twt i'd be dogpiled by dudebros so fast. this is why i will never leave this hellsite <3 #anyways #bye ily tag readers #*runs for the hills* #kai talks

[stellarstarcelios]

Helios' Imaginary Friend Adventures - "Sleepy Angel"

Another little drabble I finished up today! :D

This one is a little piece featuring me and my imaginary friend of Mercy from Overwatch. :)

Enjoy!

Divider I used can be found here!

Helios looked down, eyes moving to the side of the bed as he heard a small noise. It was a familiar one, a sound of fluttering wings. He smiled as his small, pocket-sized imaginary friend of Mercy made her way to the bed where he sat. She landed with all the grace of a pop culture angel, and those enchanting blue eyes of hers met Helios’ brown eyes.

Helios grinned ever so softly, pulling off his gaming headset. “Hi, Angela.” 

“Hello, Helios,” Mercy giggled. She walked to sit down next to her friend, plopping down onto the mattress and leaning against the human.

A light blush dusted Helios’ face as he moved his gaze down to the tiny doctor. His brown gaze met her blue one once again. Mercy was just so adorable.

The angelic looking hero asked her friend, “Do you have any plans for today, Hübscher?”

The human chuckled. “Nothing really, other than… well, I was going to go watch TV once I’m done here. Did you want to come with me?”

The doctor answered, “I’d love to watch TV with you. What are we going to watch?”

“I guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?”

*****

Mercy shifted a bit on the blanket where she sat, waiting for Helios to come back to the couch with the popcorn he was making. The sound of the human’s footsteps finally reached her ears and she watched Helios come around the corner, bowl of popcorn in hand.

When he sat down, Helios placed the bowl beside him, making sure it didn’t land on Mercy in the process. Though it would just move through her like a ghost, it wasn’t pleasant just from what he had been told.

The tiny doctor scooted a little closer to the taller human and reached a hand up to hold onto one of his fingers. She could see him pick up the remote and click on a show called, “To Catch a Smuggler.” Mercy moved to lean on his side and asked, “What’s this show about, Heli?”

“It’s about the customs and border protection officers in airports and at borders in the United States. They mostly catch people trying to smuggle drugs or transport food or merchandise they can’t bring in.”

Mercy nodded. “Sounds fun to watch.”

Helios grinned. “Well, it is kinda fun trying to guess if they’ll find anything on the people they stop. My mom and I love watching this together.”

“Then I’ll give it a chance.” The blue eyes of the doctor moved up to the bowl as her friend placed a piece of popcorn next to her. She took a small chunk off as the episode of the show started. 

After a few episodes, Mercy and Helios had both had their fill of the popcorn and sat back into the cushions. There was a comfortable silence between them as their eyes stayed on the screen. 

That is, until Mercy let out a small yawn.

Helios blinked in surprise and moved his head to see his little friend struggling to keep her eyes open. He raised a brow. “Angela, you good?”

She let out a tired, “I’m… trying to stay awake, Helios. Key word is ‘trying.’”

“Wow, Angie, I’ve never seen you look so exhausted. Usually I’m the sleepy one around this time of night.” Helios gently pet Mercy’s hair with a finger. “You look absolutely wiped out. What did you do today?”

Mercy sighed. “I had to go on a mission today. And let me tell you–Ramattra was attached to me like a moth to a flame.” She rolled her blue eyes. “I don’t know what it is with Rama, but he’s so clingy when it comes to me. I know I’m our medic, but he doesn’t have to always be attached to me at the hip.”

Helios giggled at that. “Maybe he likes you?”

She closed her eyes and laughed, and how that sound made Helios’ heart soar. 

“Ramattra? Liking me? That’s silly, Mein Herz. He doesn’t like any humans.”

“I don’t know, Angie. You’re pretty likable to me.”

That made the little doctor smile up at Helios, though she was still struggling to stay awake. She leaned against him and nuzzled her head into his hand. “I suppose so.”

Helios watched Mercy’s eyes fall, slowly, ever so slowly, her lids fell lower and lower. After a few moments, she was peacefully asleep, breathing slowly and hands unconsciously holding onto the human. He carefully scooped Mercy into his hands and rose from the couch. The doctor stayed asleep, surprisingly enough, as Helios walked to the bedroom and placed her onto the bed in his dollhouse. She fit perfectly into it, and a tiny blanket was pulled over her.

Helios chuckled ever so quietly, pet her hair again, and whispered, “Good night, Angela. Sleep well, my friend.”

Mercy awoke later that night, surprised at first to be in the bed. However, when she saw the quiet, peaceful face of her friend, she beamed, laid back on the bed, and fell back into a blissful rest. She knew Helios would always love her as her friend, and she would always do the same for him.

#writing #helios' writing #fic #fanfic #overwatch mercy #mercy #mercy overwatch #angela ziegler #f/o #f/o community #f/o fic #f/o fanfic #platonic f/o #my imaginary friends #imaginary friend #self shipping #self ship #self shipping community #kinghelios33

[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

[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 7

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: After Chat learns Ladybug told Rena her identity, Plagg's solution is simple: tell someone he's Chat Noir so they're even! Duh.

Unbeknownst to the three wicked stooges, Paris’s favorite cat boy sat perched upon a rooftop adjacent to the mansion, ogling the interaction between his father, his trusted assistant, and his absolute least favorite person in the entire world.

Next to Hawk Moth, of course.

As they tittered and conspired in the darkness, Chat Noir narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t help but find the whole thing . . .

Shady.

“Claws in.”

Plagg whizzed out of the ring and looked up at his holder with sad kitten eyes. Adrien avoided making eye contact, practically drilling a hole into the ground with the intensity of his glare. He hugged his knees to his chest and picked at his shoelaces.

“That was pretty rough, kid.”

Adrien sniffled and roughly smeared away his tears with the back of his hand.

“I was hoping her explanation would make me feel better, Plagg.”

Adrien hugged his knees tighter.

“But it made me feel so much worse.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Plagg crooned, shoulders drooping. He hesitated for only a second before flying to Adrien’s shoulder and nuzzling his holder’s neck.

“She doesn’t want to know me, Plagg. Am I really that bad?”

“Not at all. I already told you that no other Chat Noir could be you. I meant it. You’re the best Chat Noir I’ve ever had.”

Adrien’s sniffles quieted, but the tears persisted. He had no idea how to stop them now that they had started. With gut-wrenching envy, Adrien watched the person he hated most engage in chit-chat with his father as if it was the most casual occurrence. The man even went as far as sharing whatever was on his tablet, a feat Adrien had been trying to accomplish since before he could remember. His father always claimed to be private, unwilling to share any kind of imperfect designs with his own son.

But there Lila was. Conversing with his father more than he himself had in the past week.

And Ladybug had given her most sacred secret to Rena Rouge.

Was he invisible?

He felt so small.

Lost at sea.

A blip in the turbulent waters that no one knew was missing.

He was a boy overboard with no life raft. And no one knew to look for him.

His soul was cold and his heart felt numb.

“You know what?” chirped Plagg suddenly, snapping Adrien out of his spiral. “Ladybug is the new Guardian, right?”

Adrien nodded hesitantly. Where was he going with this?

“What’s her only rule?”

“We can’t know each other’s identities.”

Plagg hovered in front of Adrien’s eyes and flipped onto his back, making a show of nonchalance. If this was gonna work, Plagg had to make the kid think it was kind of his own idea. “Who can’t know each other’s identities?”

Adrien was unamused. To him, Plagg was beating a dead horse.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Plagg popped open one eye. He didn’t need to open both for Adrien to see the blatant impishness in them.

“So Ladybug and Chat Noir can’t know each other’s identities. What about . . . other people?”

The blonde ball of despair perked up, hair bouncing into his eyes, though they immediately narrowed at his Kwami’s scheming.

“But Master Fu--”

Plagg interjected, “--who isn’t the guardian anymore.”

Adrien blinked.

Kwamis, Plagg was so close to convincing his kid to be selfish for once. He just needed a push! A hefty, premeditated shove off the Fu-forsaken cliff!

“It’s like I’ve always said. Beg for forgiveness, not for permission.” Plagg folded his little paws across his chest, floating right up to Adrien’s nose. Adrien went cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. “Ladybug told Rena. So the question is: who’s Chat Noir going to tell?”

“It’s--” Adrien spluttered. “It’s risky, Plagg!”

“And so is being depressed,” Plagg snarled back, surprising Adrien. “Any other person gets minorly inconvenienced and akumatized, who saves them? You--” the Kwami jabbed a paw into Adrien’s nose “--and the bug. But you or Ladybug get akumatized, who saves you?”

Plagg saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s head. He briefly speculated who his kid might choose. Nino would be the obvious choice. He wasn’t as close to Kagami any more, but telling her the secret that had broken them apart would certainly be one hell of an apology. It could even, say, potentially repair what the secret had fractured.

There was also the off chance Adrien might choose Pigtails, who coincidentally doubled as Ladybug. Plagg would have to raid the Agreste kitchen for popcorn if that happened.

“If . . .” Adrien began.

Yes? Plagg internally coaxed.

“If I were to choose someone . . .”

Come on, Adrien.

“I think it would be . . . Nino.”

Yahtzee.

Plagg clapped his paws together over and over, rousing Adrien from his feet like a drill sergeant. “All right, then! Let’s go, let’s go! Hustle, bell boy. We’ve got places to be!”

Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out a squishy triangle, letting loose the most intoxicating aroma Plagg ever did smell. It circled the pair and made Plagg salivate. “Don’t you want this first?”

Did I really forget about camembert? Plagg wondered incredulously.

“I--” Plagg scrambled for an excuse to atone for the touchy-feelies interfering with his one true love, but he came up short. “Of course I want that!”

Adrien smiled fondly at his Kwami and threw the camembert into the air. Not one to miss a beat, Plagg zipped and caught the cheese in his mouth, devouring the thing in one fell swoop.

“Now we can go!” said Plagg, belching remorselessly. Naturally.

Adrien chuckled. When he opened his mouth to say the transformation phrase, however, he faltered. Was he really going to do this? It . . . It felt disobedient, like he was betraying Ladybug. But could she really hold it against him, if she had needed to do the same?

Would his partner reveal herself to be a hypocrite?

The budding consequences of revealing himself to Nino weighed so heavily on his shoulders that he wasn’t sure how he would manage batoning into the air once transformed. The aptitude for disappointment just felt so tangible to him, as if it were physically chaining him to the rooftop, a meaty claw so solidly wound ’round his ankles it threatened to pierce his skin.

The thought that Nino might hate him for keeping the secret in the first place made home in Adrien’s cerebral cortex, further immobilizing him. It pulled up a chair and opened the morning newspaper like it was meant to be there, meant to remind him that not everything was just simple. Straightforward. Without fallout.

A tender paw touched his cheek, wiping away a runaway tear.

“Kid,” whispered Plagg. His eyes were misty.

Is that . . . because of me? Because he cares about me?

Holding his gaze a moment longer, Adrien uttered the words that once changed his life forever and seemed to be forever following him with new and improved ways to spice up his routine.

“Claws out.”

The energy washed over him like a cold shower, springing him into action. The need to move, to run, to fly nipped at his heels and before he knew it, he was vaulting to his best buddy’s.

If Adrien was honest, telling Marinette, his dearest friend, was his first instinct. He gripped that realization like it would fly away at a moment’s notice, at the slightest spook (he was on the precipice of truly understanding what his good friend Marinette really meant to him). But he had heard from Nino that Alya and Marinette were holed in for a “girls’ night,” so . . . Nino was the next best thing.

Nino was far from second place, however. Sharing the burden of his greatest secret with the guy who got mad at Gabriel Agreste on Adrien’s behalf was like a breath of fresh air. More than that, it was like Adrien would finally be able to steady his head above the tide.

(Telling Marinette would have been like sprouting gills and uncovering the mystery of the sea up close and personal, but Adrien didn’t want to unpack that particular conclusion yet.)

Wasting no time, Chat Noir landed nimbly on Nino’s apartment balcony and tucked his baton back into place. Giving himself just one more moment before life as he knew it was spun upside down--for better or for worse was yet to be determined--he raised a gloved claw to the sliding glass door and timidly knocked.

Nino’s balcony wasn’t decorated like Marinette’s. A few bikes of various sizes loitered against the railing, collecting dust. A few helmets hung limply from their handlebars, occasionally shifting to and fro in the passive wind. Chat could discern by the light-up training wheels which bike belonged to Nino’s little brother, Chris. The bike--which Chat realized must be new since his last visit--sported black spots against its red frame.

Chat shook his head fondly.

Someone obviously developed an appreciation for the bug after their last akumatization. But as the evening breeze softly twisted the helmet, the vision before him melted him into a puddle of endearment. Nino’s kid brother apparently also had a thing for Chat Noir.

The evidence?

A black helmet topped with an acid green paw print and two plastic cat ears to boot.

Un-fur-tunately, as much as the sight was incredibly thera-paw-tic, it also made his heart throb. His body ached for a larger family, from head to toe and down to his bones.

Adrien didn’t dream often in his sleep, but when he did . . . Oh, when he did, he was blessed with visions of him entering a cozy one-story home (his) and immediately being greeted by giggling and the blinding smiles of three faceless children (also his).

While his hopelessly romantic heart yearned for Ladybug to be his other half in that tender fantasy, lately his subconscious had a habit of inserting a particular blue-haired classmate. It baffled him at first, but he figured seeing her family photo that one time during Animan in addition to experiencing the Dupain-Chengs’ bolstering hospitality personally as both Adrien and Chat Noir made Marinette a safe space for his lonely imagination.

Whoever she married would be one lucky bastard, that was for sure.

The curtains behind the glass door swept dramatically to the side, revealing a bewildered Nino in Rena Rouge-themed pajamas.

“Chat Noir?!” he exclaimed. The glass between them muffled his voice.

A quick scan beyond Nino told Chat that his friend was home alone, but he knew he needed to be certain. “Are you home alone?”

Nino paled before realizing that a superhero asking that question wasn’t as bad as some random adult looking for an easy target. He exhaled, chuckling nervously. “My family went to the ice rink, but skating’s so not my jam.”

So he stayed behind. Good. This was gonna be a piece of cake! Adrien pointed at the door handle and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Oh, right. Sorry, dude!”

Nino clambered to unlock the door and wrenched it open. The smell of broth and herbs hit Adrien square in the nose. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since lunch. “What brings you here? An akuma?”

Stepping over the threshold, Chat tried to make sense of Nino’s question. Why would he come to a civilian if there was an akuma? “No, no akuma, Nino.”

“Oh, good, ’cause I-- Dude, how did you know where my room is?”

If Chat weren’t there to reveal his identity, he might have had a heart attack over accidentally bee-lining to Nino’s room like he’d been there before. He probably would have said something fishy like “In a house like this, it’s a given!” But he didn’t have to make up some ridiculous excuse. He wouldn’t ever have to lie to his best friend.

Never again.

“Because . . .”

Nino eyed Chat expectantly. His room was a mess. He really wasn’t expecting any visitors and his laptop was still open, his music and film ideas scrawled onto random pieces of notebook paper and scattered across his desk like a madman. Or an artist. Was there really a difference?

“Because . . .” Chat began once more.

Oh, gosh. This was it. He was going to do it. He was going to do the thing! He was alone at sea and no one from the boat had noticed him falling overboard. But maybe, just maybe Nino was the Coast Guard. Maybe Nino would throw him a buoy.

“Because claws in.”

Nino’s entire body went rigid. Crap, crap, crap!

“No, wait--!” Nino shouted, closing his eyes instinctually and reaching for Chat Noir. He had to pull him away from his laptop’s camera field! Had to get him out of sight! Why did he choose now to share Paris’s most coveted secret?!

But . . . he was too late.

The light had already dimmed behind his eyelids by the time his hands were closed around--

“Adrien?” Nino whispered, peering up at his best friend. The duckling he had sworn to protect and teach the ways of life was standing where Chat Noir should be.

Adrien smiled and opened his mouth to respond, but a high-pitched laughter rang out and the joy he felt was quickly replaced with sheer terror.

Nino grinned sheepishly.

“Uh haha, you remember my girlfriend Alya who I sometimes Skype with while working on scripts?” Clumsily, Nino rubbed comforting circles into Adrien’s arms as if he could rub away the embarrassment.

“You said you were home alone.”

“Actually, I said my family went to the ice rink.”

Adrien’s eye twitched.

Plagg, who couldn’t have foreseen this turn of events, hovered off to the side and figured if he didn’t move, he could pretend he was invisible.

Sure enough, Adrien craned his head to find an unhinged Alya screeching like a fox (he had seen a video of them laughing once on YouTube; they were so adorable!) from Nino’s computer screen. Behind Alya was a familiar cork board of friends and, well, lots of himself. The walls were pink. She was at Marinette’s like Nino said she would be.

Adrien had expected gasps. Finger pointing. A million questions. What he hadn’t expected was Alya laughing like he was the butt of a joke.

After a good minute of cackling and awkward waiting from the boys, Alya sighed and wiped a tear from her eye. Then she spoke, a dazed smile on her lips.

“I cannot wait to strangle that Hawaiian-shirt-loving Master of Unnecessary Manipulation.” Her words were completely contrasted by the amusement in her voice.

Adrien tried not to faint.

-----

We're now caught up with AO3 here on Tumblr (AO3 is where I first started posting this). Yay! :D Also, was anyone expecting Rena to be there? 😌I wasn't. 😳 Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

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[littlestarofthewest]

Valentine drabble request you say? Well, if you're up for it, could I maybe request something Morbell related (if you even write that)? Maybe a flustered Micah trying to find a good gift for Arthur? Thank you!

I've never written Morbell before but I gave it a shot. Hope you like 😆

Guns make for good Flowers

Pairing: Arthur x Micah | Words: 2260 | SFW

Micah lifts up the bottles in the box one after the other, trying to find a full one. It's hard to get smashed if you don't have the booze. Behind him, Pearson talks to Strauss, saying something about when to give his present to Susan. Micah wonders what the occasion for a gift would be, but then he finds two full bottles and forgets all about it.

At least until two days later. Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen are talking about gifts as well. Micah hangs around, curious after all, and finally catches on. Valentine's day. It seems that everybody gives somebody else a gift. 

Micah shrugs it off. He most certainly has better things to do with his time and money than gift shopping. Besides, he knows for sure that nobody would give him anything, so why would he bother?

Despite his disinterest in the whole ordeal, it keeps coming up. Abigail has something for Jack, of course, and Jack wants to give something to Sadie to cheer her up. Sean's got a present for Karen, Charles is making something for Tilly, and so on. 

Every day, Micah hears something new, caring about it or not. Even lazy Uncle gets involved, and two days before Valentine's day, John, of all people, found a great gift for Abigail. 

Micah's about to give him shit for it when all the conversations of the last days wander through his mind. Mary-Beth insists on giving a present to the O'Driscoll boy, Molly and Dutch give each other gifts, and Susan takes care of Hosea, but there's one name Micah hasn't heard at all. Arthur.

For the rest of the day, Micah keeps snooping around. This time, he actually tries to find out who will give something to whom, and by evening his first assessment still stands. Nobody thought about Arthur.

While most of the gang already sits by the fire, Arthur comes in late after a job. He hands Pearson two rabbits he must have shot on the way and puts some money in the collection box before he passes out on his cot, not even caring to take his boots off.

The sight gnaws at Micah, and the happy chatter of the others annoys him even more. He wishes he could laugh about Arthur being left out, but somehow it doesn't sit right with him. 

Micah can certainly live without an ugly Valentine's card, but ever since he joined the gang, he's never seen Arthur rest longer than needed. It's a shame that the gang members forgot all about their little workhorse.

After emptying his bottle, Micah gets up to find a place for the night. He doesn't need much sleep, but shutting his eyes for a moment can't hurt. On his way, he avoids the singing Reverend, and Uncle who's asking around for money. That's how he ends up hiding behind a wagon, Arthur's wagon. 

Micah sits down and leans against it, enjoying the irony. He can hear Arthur's quiet snores, knowing that this man is in for a surprise soon. If Arthur's lucky, he'll be out of the camp on Valentine's day. Maybe that's what people are counting on.

----------

"You want some company, mister?"

Micah turns to the girl approaching him. She's fairly pretty, and probably older and therefore more experienced than she looks. All in all, she would be a nice thing to spend his money on, but ever since yesterday, Micah's thoughts drift when he's not careful. 

Instead of taking a closer look at the girl's ample bosom, Micah thinks about Arthur, and the money in his pocket feels heavy as if it wants to stay in there. "Not today, sweetheart."

Micah downs his drink and walks outside, looking along the street. On the other side, the general store's doorbell is ringing when a customer leaves, and Micah is drawn to it like the moth to a flame.

It's empty inside except for the store owner, who greets him with great enthusiasm. Micah ignores him to take a look around, his eyes falling on some journals and pencils, but he knows Arthur has enough of those. 

Walking along a shelf with booze, Micah stops, horrified. He asks himself what Arthur might like, and it dawns on him that he's looking for a gift for Arthur. He didn't mean to do it, but the thought of Arthur not getting a present seems so wrong.

It's probably just him thinking ahead. Micah might act as a simple bully, but he has ways to make people lean his way. If everybody but Micah has forgotten Arthur, then they might be grateful that he thought of him.

Booze doesn't seem enough, though. Micah checks out the products for horses, knowing how fond Arthur is of his horrible black monster, but again, it's something Arthur could get himself. Even a watch doesn't come close to an appropriate gift.

With an annoyed grunt, Micah leaves the store, looking along the main street again. There's a tailor, but Micah can't be sure about Arthur's size. He could invite him to a drink at the saloon, but Micah doubts that Arthur would agree to it. 

Taking a deep breath, Micah looks up at the burning sun, hoping for inspiration, when something hits his eye from the side. A reflection. Turning to it, Micah watches a guy who puts a shiny new rifle onto his horse, and Micah's eyes fall on the building behind the man. It's a gun store.

An idea pops up in Micah's head, and he crosses the street with a smile on his face.

---------

The whole day, the camp is busy like a beehive. People hurry back and forth, giving away their presents, and soon, everybody walks around with something new. A lovely shawl around a girl's shoulders or a new necklace or braclet - made, bought, or probably stolen -, bottles of booze, books, a new shirt, or even boots. 

The only person not in the midst of all that is Arthur. He's sitting on his cot, writing in that stupid journal of his. Micah keeps a look on him for a while, but nobody's approaching him, and Arthur doesn't seem to be giving away a gift of his own. 

Micah is tempted to keep what he bought to himself, but the longer he looks at Arthur, the more curious he gets about what his reaction would be to the present. Even if he tells Micah to piss off, Micah wants to know. He wants to hear it from Arthur.

When the rest of the gang seems busy enough, Micah walks over to Arthur, the gift hidden under his coat. He gets in position, ready to greet Arthur, but Arthur already slaps the journal shut and looks up to him.

"What do you want, Micah?"

"Oh, I could think about a few things I'd desire," Micah says, determined to stand his ground. "The question is what you want."

"Peace and quiet," Arthur grunts, and Micah is about to tease him about Valentine's day when he takes a look at Arthur's table. 

Yesterday, it was empty except for a photograph and the stupid little glass flower. Now there are arrows, cigarettes and a cigar, sweets, hunting and fishing materials, and other small trinkets. 

Micah can feel his heart sink. He's been so focused on thinking that nobody would give Arthur a present that he didn't consider the obvious alternative. It looks like everybody gave Arthur a gift. 

Arthur follows Micah's gaze and rubs his neck as he looks up to him. "Look, Micah-"

"I've got something for you," Micah interrupts him, forcing himself to say it before he can chicken out.

"What?"

Micah gets the box out from under his coat and pushes it at Arthur, who looks like it's stuffed with dynamite and might explode in his hands. He still opens it, and his mouth falls open.

There's a chance Micah might have overdone it a little, but he didn't want to look cheap. The revolver he bought has a unique grip, and the letters A and M are carved in next to a coyote. Micah's not even sure why. He just liked the look of it, and in a weak moment, he entertained the idea that the M might not stand for Morgan.

"Remember the holster I gave you?" Micah asks, feeling the need to explain himself. "Didn't make much sense without a gun."

Arthur still looks like he's in a trance, running his fingertips over the weapon. "You're giving me this? Why?"

If Micah only knew. He's still not sure what devil rode him the last few days. "I'm actually a pretty nice guy, cowpoke."

"Yeah, right," Arthur huffs, but he takes the weapon out of the box, squinting at the engraving.

Micah feels heat rushing up his neck and to his ears, afraid that Arthur might catch on to the double meaning of the letters.

"So, don't shoot anything I wouldn't," he says before walking away.

"Micah!" Arthur shouts behind him, and when Micah turns around, he sees that Arthur has gotten to his feet. "Thank you."

Arthur's voice is quiet, barely audible over the camp's noises, but the words still ring in Micah's ears. He can't remember the last time Arthur has spoken to him in a friendly manner, and he definitely never thanked him. Micah tips his hat, unable to speak, and he decides to get out of there.

He heads for the main campfire, but then he takes a detour, passing behind one of the wagons and heading into the woods. He finds a quiet spot and pulls out one of his own guns. It looks a little worn compared to the new one Micah gave Arthur.

With a sigh, he puts it back in his holster, ready to get himself something to drink and pass out somewhere, when a figure steps out of the trees next to him. Micah's about ready to draw and shoot, but it's only Arthur.

"You following me, cowpoke?"

Arthur doesn't say anything, his hand hovering over his holster. Micah's heart beats faster, but it makes no sense that Arthur would pick today of all days to shoot him.

With a swift movement, Arthur draws his gun, but he points it at a nearby tree instead of Micah. "That's a fine weapon, not cheap. Why would you give me that?"

"What would you want me to give you? Flowers?"

Arthur comes closer, the weapon still in his hand. Micah figures that he probably shouldn't mouth off to him, but he can't help himself.

"Why would you give me anything at all?" Arthur asks.

"These degenerates out there have been talking about giving each other gifts all damn week, but nobody ever mentioned your name. Just didn't seem right."

Arthur huffs a laugh. "So you decided to be my Valentine?"

"Shut up, Morgan, or I'll-"

"You what?" Arthur interrupts him. He's not raising the gun, but Micah knows full well he's playing with his life, so he stays quiet.

Arthur swirls the gun around and slips it back into its holster before stepping even closer. "I've got something for you, too."

Micah looks Arthur up and down, waiting for a knife to appear, but instead, Arthur grabs him by the throat. Adrenaline rushes through Micah's body, but Arthur's fingers only rest there, not choking him. Micah swallows a few times, knowing that Arthur can feel it. He wishes he could draw his weapon or fight back in any way, but he's too curious about what Arthur might do. 

For now, Arthur's holding Micah's gaze with those piercing blue eyes, then he runs his fingers along Micah's neck, down to the first button of his shirt that he actually cared to close. Arthur fists his fingers into the fabric and pulls Micah close. They're only inches apart, breathing the same air.

Micah's still waiting for something terrible to happen, a trick, or Arthur at least insulting him. Instead, Arthur puts his other hand on Micah's neck, his fingers digging into his hair. He draws Micah closer, so slowly that it borders on torture. Micah's heart is about to leap out of his chest, but then it just seems to give out when Arthur kisses him.

It's not nice and soft, but harsh and with force. Arthur kisses him as if he needs to punish Micah, but Micah can't say that he minds. He grabs Arthur's arm, feeling how his muscles strain, unwilling to let him go. Not that Micah wants to escape. 

He lets Arthur in, getting a good taste of him when their tongues rub against each other. Arthur barely gives him a chance to breathe, and when he finally lets go, Micah feels like he could pass out any second.

Arthur leans in, his lips touching Micah's ear as he whispers to him. "Tell anybody about this, and I'll make good use of that new gun."

Micah's still too overwhelmed to answer, only able to look after Arthur as he disappears into the trees. Taking in a deep breath, Micah leans back against the tree behind him. From all the possible outcomes, Arthur picked the one Micah didn't see coming in a million years.

With a sigh, he walks back to camp, longing more than ever for a drink. When he settles down by the fire with a bottle, he finds Arthur already sitting there. They share a look, and one thing becomes clear to Micah. He's prepared to give Arthur the whole damn gun store if he can get another kiss like that. 

#morbell #rdr2 fanfic #fulfilled requests #my writing

[queenofmoons]

I and Love and You

“—So tonight?” Flash’s voice drew Peter out of his thoughts. He was standing over Peter’s desk, phone unlocked and in hand. His copy of Slaughterhouse-5 was on Peter’s desk. 

Peter jerked his attention up to him. “Sorry— tonight for what?” 

“To work on this project.” Flash stabbed the book with his finger. “Were you even listening to me?”

“Uh. No, sorry.” Peter rubbed at his eyes. “I zoned out.” 

“Great,” Flash said. “We have to work together and you can’t even pay attention to me for five minutes.” 

“Sorry,” Peter said. “I had a late night last night. What were you asking me?”

“If you could come over tonight so we can knock this presentation out. For the third time.”

“I’d love to,” Peter said. “But I’m seeing a play tonight.” 

Around him, people were starting to pack up for the day. People pulled up zippers and out of their seats. Peter tossed his pencil into his bag. 

“A play?” Flash raised an eyebrow. Peter nodded. 

“A friend of mine is in it,” he explained. “I’m going to support her. I’ll text you tomorrow about when we can meet up?” 

“Yeah,” Flash said. “Sure, whatever. Enjoy the play. I’m sure you don’t see that many of them.” 

Peter ignored the dig. 

“I’ll talk to you later, Flash.” He threw his backpack over his shoulder just as the final bell rang. “We’ll get the project done— I promise.”

—

Peter was so close to the main entrance of the school when Harrington called his name. Five more steps, and he would have been done for the day. But—

“Peter!” 

Peter turned on his heel. One hand wrapped tight around the strap of his backpack. 

“Mr. Harrington!” He said, smiling, because he’s Peter Parker and he’s polite, even when he’s in a rush. “Hi!”

“Peter, can you come here for a second?”

Peter wanted to groan. He wanted to roll his eyes, and say no, because he has places to be and people to help, and flowers to buy. 

He made his way, against the flow of traffic, over to Harrington. 

“You have model UN experience, right?” Harrington asked. Peter eyed him warily. 

“Some,” he said. Mostly from Freshman year, when he had spare time. He went to most of the meetings, but only ever attended a single conference downtown. “Why?”

“There’s a small conference tonight,” Harrington said, “In the auditorium. We’re short a person, I was wondering if you’d be able to fill in. You know how I appreciate your outlook.” 

Peter made a face he learned from MJ. 

“Sorry, Mr. Harrington.” He shook his head. “I’ve got plans.” He looked past Harrington. His face broke into a smirk. He pointed. “I think Flash is free tonight, though.” 

When Harrington turned to address Flash, Peter snuck  out of the building.

—

Dark clouds gathered over the city like a greyscale watercolor. Humidity hung in the air. It was going to rain soon.

Peter had four hours. 

He did the usual rounds: helped old ladies cross the street, got leftovers from the butcher and fed them to stray dogs, stopped a mugging before it happened. 

The sky got darker. The wind picked up.

He was on his way back to the apartment with plenty of time to shower and get changed when he heard the commotion. Yelling, and honking, and the sounds of car doors slamming. Below him, an intersection was overflowing: an agitated sea of yellow taxis and semi-trucks and Toyota Corollas. Hanging above them, swaying in the growing wind, was a blinking traffic light. 

“Uh oh,” Peter said. Some people were stepping out of their cars. 

He landed in the middle of traffic, hands up in a stop motion. “Hey everyone! Can we all just calm down and stay in our cars?” 

There was no traffic guard in sight. Sure, Peter had passed driver’s ed, but knowing how intersections work and actively directing them were two entirely different tasks. 

So he couldn’t direct traffic. That wasn’t his only option. He kept his arms out. 

“Can you all just stay in your cars?” He repeated as New York (being New York) continued to erupt in yelling and door-slamming and honking. “This should only take a few minutes!”

And hopefully it would, because he needed to leave soon if he wanted to make it on time. 

He pulled himself up to the traffic light. 

It was bigger than Peter had expected. Its height spanned from Peter’s knees to the bottom of his chin. Up close, the blinking lights were like staring into a rave. 

(Why had he expected traffic lights to be, at most, the size of his forearm? These things were massive.P

“Good thing I’m not moth man,” Peter laughed to himself. Then, “Karen— you have any idea how to fix one of these things?” 

“Let me check,” she said. Carefully, Peter unscrewed the LED panels and swung them open until he was staring at the panel inside of the light. The opened panels jumped in the wind. Peter was face-to-face with flashing lights on a motherboard. He frowned. 

“Karen?” He checked in.

“A few wires came loose,” she told him. “It must have been the wind.”

“Fantastic,” Peter said. “An easy fix. That’s what I have time for.”  

It was not, of course, an easy fix. 

The wind smashed the panels into his fingers multiple times. The beginnings of a rainstorm— drizzle and cold— cut to his bones. The water also went right to the circuit board. In the span of time it took to dry off the board before reattaching each wire, he could have finished three times. 

Below him, traffic had only gotten angrier. Except, now, some of that anger was directed at him. People shouted for him to hurry up. Some accused him of messing up the light in the first place. Newcomers assumed he was the reason they were stopped at all. 

What should have been a five minute fix took fifteen. It had only gotten darker out. The wind had only picked up. Peter was already mentally writing the script for Jameson’s next Spider-Man segment: 

Spider-Man disrupts traffic by taking apart a traffic light! Clearly, he was trying to cause accidents. Why else would he have been messing with it so long?

When the traffic light jumped back to life, Peter’s sighed with relief. He replaced the panels. The light turned green. He pumped his fist.

Peter landed on a light post on the sidewalk. Below him, traffic had gone back to moving at a snail’s pace— an abundance of honking and yelling was replaced with the usual amount of honking and yelling. 

If Peter hurried, he could still make it on time. He readied himself to jump back into the air.

“Wait! Spider-Man!” Peter turned. The owner of a flower stand was waving him over. He was covered in pollen, his white shirt speckled with a thick layer of neon green, with dark streaks where rain had displaced it. 

Peter waved at him. “Hey— you need something?” He asked, leaping from the top of one light post to the one right beside the cart. 

“You saved my son!” The man said. Up close, Peter could see there was pollen in his beard, too. “Last week— there was a fire in his apartment building on Laurel Street. You saved his life. I want to thank you.”

“It’s all in a day’s work,” Peter said modestly. “Is he doing alright now?” 

The man nodded. “He’s working on getting a lease on a new apartment,” he said. Peter dropped down to the ground. “I want to—“

He held out his fist. There was money shoved in it. “It’s not much, but I want to repay you.”

“I appreciate it, but I don’t accept money,” Peter said. 

“Please. Take it.” He held his hand out farther. 

“Really, I can’t take that,” Peter said. He put his flat palm on his fist and guided it back to him. The owner of the flower stand looked between the money and Peter. He frowned, deep lines formed in his cheeks.

“There’s gotta be something I can do,” he said. “Please.” 

Peter clicked his tongue. “Tell you what,” He said. “I need some flowers for tonight. I’ll take a bouquet and we can call it even.”

The man looked at the money again.

“If you still want to give me the money, donate it to F.E.A.S.T in my name, but I’m not going to take it.” 

The man regarded him carefully, eyes searching the gossamer sheen of the mask. His face broke into a grin. “You got a deal!” 

—

By the time Peter was done getting changed, the sky had opened. He ran three blocks with a muffin gripped in his mouth, flowers tucked under his arm, and his phone nearly falling out of the shallow pocket of his jacket. 

When he burst through the lobby doors, the security guards looked at him, startled. His sneakers squeaked on the tile. Water dripped from his hair into his eyes. His shirt was only half buttoned, his sports coat was soaked. He shook the bouquet of flowers over a trashcan in a weak attempt to dry them off.

“Can I help you?” One of them asked. Peter offered a toothy smile.

“I’m, uh. I’m here for the play,” he said. 

“Right down the hall.” The guard pointed him toward a large, metal double door. 

When he opened it, it creaked long and low. The people seated near the entrance turned to look at him. Peter grimaced. He held a hand up. “Sorry,” he whispered. 

The lights in the theater were off. The only light was the fancy kinds on the outside of the walkways that just barely illuminated row letters.

He was careful to walk on the carpet as he made his way over to his seat. Much to his own chagrin, getting seated meant climbing over the laps of people while whispering profuse apologies into the dark room. 

“You’re late,” Tony hissed when Peter finally dropped into his seat. Peter pushed the flowers into Tony’s lap while he struggled to finish buttoning his shirt. 

“I know. Traffic jam. Did I miss anything?” 

“Just an announcement from the teacher. Donate to the drama department and all that.”

“And did you?” Peter raised an eyebrow. 

“No, I’m a billionaire and I can’t spare a few dollars. Take the flowers back.” 

Peter held them between his knees. 

Someone tapped his shoulder. May was two seats down from Tony— sitting beside Pepper. She grinned at Peter and waved. “You made it!” She said just above a whisper.

“Barely,” he agreed. He asked Tony, “You have a program?” 

Tony handed it over. Peter flipped through until he found what he was looking for. 

Red Riding Hood…………. Morgan Stark

Peter’s face lit up. The overture started. He handed the program back to Tony.

—

“Daddy! Mommy! Did you see that?” Morgan sprinted down the hallway. Her red cape flapped behind her. Her hair had been curled into tight ringlets that bounced as she ran. Her cheeks were flushed. She leapt straight into Pepper and Tony’s arms. Her little arms snaked around their necks, pulling their heads together against her own. 

“You did such a good job, kid!” Tony praised. “Who knew you could sing?” 

“You’ve heard me practice,” Morgan said. 

“This is the first time you’ve actually sounded good, though,” Tony teased. Morgan pulled a face at him.

“Don’t listen to him,” Pepper said. Gently, she cuffed the back of Tony’s head. “You were fantastic, sweetheart.”

“I want an encore performance,” May agreed. “Will you come to the apartment and do it again for me?” 

“Of course!” Morgan said, as if May had asked the dumbest question she’d ever heard. 

And then she noticed Peter. 

“You made it!” She launched herself at him. Peter had to struggle to catch her with one arm. The other hand gripped the bouquet tight. 

“Of course I did!” Peter said, indignant. “Do you think I was going to miss Morgan Stark’s debut performance?” 

She’d already drawn her attention to the flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” She asked, taking the bouquet from his hands.. 

“Morgan,” Pepper started to scold, but Peter put a hand up. 

“They’re actually for daddy,” he said gravely. “He sat really still in the audience, so I thought I’d reward him with flowers.” 

Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. Peter scowled back.

They both burst into fits of giggles.

“Peter, honey,” Pepper said. “We were going to get ice cream. Would you like to come?”

“That sounds great,” Peter said. “But I actually—“

Morgan tugged on his sleeve. The flowers looked huge in her little arms. She frowned up at him. “Please?” She begged. “I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

“You saw me last weekend,” he pointed out.

“You left before cake,” she countered. That was true. He had left before cake. MJ had called him with information on Venom and he’d needed to leave. 

Peter sighed. “Where are we getting ice cream?”

“We can give you a ride,” Tony said. “But you’re sitting in the backseat. You smell like wet dog.”

“I used your cologne,” Peter said without skipping a beat. 

“Watch it,” Tony warned, “that costs more than I pay you in a year.” 

“One of these days we’re going to have a chat about wealth distribution,” Peter promised him.

“Do you want me to take back that phone I bought you?’ Tony retorted.

“Boys,” May scolded. “I won’t buy you ice cream if you’re arguing.”

“Yes ma’am,” Tony said. Peter stuck his tongue out at him behind her back. Tony swung a loose fist at him. Peter ducked under it easily. Morgan cackled. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” Pepper put an arm around Tony’s shoulder and guided him away. She looked back. “You’ll have to sit in the back with Morgan, Pete.” 

Morgan’s face lit up.

“Ha!” Tony teased.

“You too,” Pepper said. “May’s sitting up front with me.”

“Ha,” May said to Tony. “I’m Pepper’s favorite.” 

“Morgan, hold someone’s hand,” Pepper said as they stepped out of the school. It had stopped raining, and the air was musty. Rain on pavement. The slick tar of the parking lot glimmered under the streetlights.

Morgan grabbed Peter’s hand. She hopped off the curb into a puddle. It splashed up, onto her cloak, onto the bottoms of Peter’s dress pants. 

Peter wanted to bottle up the laugh that escaped her lips: startled and pleased and lively. She stomped her foot again. 

“Morgan, honey, don’t—“ May started, but Peter had already joined her, splashing water up at her. Morgan squealed. 

“How old are you again?” Tony asked him, and before he even had a chance to notice the mischievous glint in Peter’s eyes, Peter had pulled him into the puddle, too. “Hey!” 

When he looked up from his (name brand, probably) shoes, Morgan and Peter were grinning at him. Instead of scolding them, he just spat out, “brats,” and splashed them back. 

“I’m leaving without you!” Pepper shook her keys. She didn’t look back, but she could hear them scrambling to get out of the puddle. 

“Moooom, Tony started it!” Peter teased. He matched his step with her, shot her a puppy-dog look.

“I don’t care if you’re not my kid, Peter,” Pepper promised, “I’ll kick your ass.” 

Peter laughed and pulled her into a sideways hug. 

“Daddy, I want Peter to sit next to me,” Morgan said.

Tony shot him a look— fond and warm. “Wow,” he said, sarcastic. “I see how it is!”

Peter would have given anything to know what he was thinking. They loaded into the car.

My AO3

#iron fam #iron family #iron dad #irondad #iron dad fluff #fluff #iron dad and spider son #Morgan stark #Peter parker #spider-man #iron dad fanfiction #iron dad fanfic #iron dad fic #iron fam fic #pepper potts #may parker #spider-man fic #spider-man fanfiction #spiderman #spider-man fanfic #iron family fluff #iron fam fluff #my fic #pepperony

[dangerouslcve]

Unforgiven - Taron Egerton

Pairing: Taron Egerton x reader

Warnings: None.

Summary: There is something so achingly familiar about Taron Egerton. He captures your attention from the moment you see him at Rada, your new acting school. He is the one bright spot in a place where people are constantly judged, the students and staff are rude, and security cameras watch your every move.  

Except Taron wants nothing to do with you- he goes out of his way to make that very clear. But you can't ignore nor shake the feeling that you know him. You were being drawn to like a moth to a flame. You need to find out what Taron is so desperate to hide, even if it shatters you...

Read previous chapters on Wattpad @ kayegerton

Disclaimer: I do not know what college is like.. Yet. But I did some intense googling. This story is for entertainment purposes only, it is considered an AU. With that being said, hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter Four - Brief Touch

    Walking down the long hallway with your duffel bag strap resting on your shoulder, you make your way to your room counting the money in your hand under your breath before shoving it into your back pocket. You were surprised to see so many closed doors as you passed, at your old college so many kids always had doors open for anyone to come in and join the party they were throwing. You, Allie, and Richard had only ever been to a couple of those parties and they consisted of loud music and lip locked couples so eventually you three just left and went back to Richards room and hung out with each other. But here at Rada most of the students stayed to themselves or just socialized behind closed doors. Speaking of these closed doors, they were truly a sight to be seen. Kids at Rada were ingenious when it came to decorating their personal spaces. You had already walked by a door with louis vuitton and armani tags on it to show off their money, and another with a sign that encouraged you to 'move the fuck on' when you passed it on the way to your room.

  You came to a stop at a blank wooden door, some doors were not decorated meaning the kids who lived nearby are at home at the moment with their family, which made you insanely jealous. Room 123B the door read. Home bitter home. You take the key out of your pocket sighing before unlocking the door and opening the door to your home for the next couple of months.

It wasn't that terrible, the peach colored walls greeted you along with a wooden twin size bed that sat on the side of the room against the wall, across from the bed was a black desk and a leather chair to do work and practice lines. The saddest looking thing in the moonlight lit room was her reflection, your frizzy hair and pale face. You looked like you had just gotten out of the hospital for your accident again. If you thought hard enough you could still hear the beeping machine that monitored your heart making sure you would never flat line during your time in the hospital. Your eyes were flecked with stress, you were shivering. Alone. Truly alone. Your afternoon classes and theater had been no better than your morning classes due to your biggest fear you had since the time in the cafeteria, everyone was calling you the immature name of meatloaf. The nicknamed seemed like it was going to stick.

You needed to unpack, to make this plain generic dorm into your own little home. A place where you can come to escape from the outside world to feel okay but you only got as far as to unzipping the black duffel bag before you collapsed onto the bed in defeat. You felt so far away from home and from your friends, it was a seven hour drive from London to Glasgow so going home was not an option for you but even if you did want to go home you couldn't because your parents would be disappointed in you. Again. But it might as well be twenty two years the way you felt right now.

For the first half of the drive you were being lectured for being upset about leaving your friends by your father dean, on the other hand your mother Sophia had remained silent looking out the window as you left Scotland. The winter months were approaching rapidly- September was always a time that flew by but December was always a time you dreaded most because you always got this gut feeling on Christmas that something horrible was going to happen but you could never explain it and if you did explain it your parents would become angry and change the subject. You yourself were 99% sure you were insane at some point but kept it to yourself because they already thought you were an odd child for not getting most of your memory back. You sigh, even though it wasn't your fault. You did miss your parents but you weren't close to them how they say you used to be. You missed your bedroom which had the perfect view of neatly manicured backyard. You missed Richard and Allie who had most likely sent you twenty never to be seen messages already. You missed all the memories you made in your childhood and late years of being a teen. Well, you didn't really miss because you couldn't remember its the feeling of never going to fully understand what your childhood was like, if you ever met someone who took your breath away when you were in your teens...If you have even ever been kissed. Ever been in love?

You roll over burying your face in the pillow. You had spent months after leaving the hospital mourning the loss of your memories. Your parents tried everything in their power to trigger memories but only some returned the rest laid deeply buried in your mind never to be remembered and now... lying in the room of your new college with the semi soft mattress beneath you, you felt the selfish futility of it all come crashing into you. You don't know your parents any more than you know well...Allie and Richard.

A knock on your door made you sit up a little to quickly causing your head to spin. You hold your head looking at the blank closed door with a raised eyebrow, the only person who could possibly know your room number is a teacher or Emily, what would they even be bothering doing here?  You tip toe to the door and pull it open peaking outside to see who knocked but there was no sign that anyone was here. On the wall beside your door on the board was a paper tacked into the wooden board that had a single arrow pointing up.

Azalea had invited you to hang out tonight but that was before the fight in the cafeteria with Charlotte. Looking at the stairs you pondered whether to follow the cryptic arrow to the second floor. You glanced back at the duffel bag laying on the bed unzipped and open ready to be unpacked, you shrug pulling the door to your room shut, stuffing the key in your pocket and make your way to and up the stairs.

You stopped in front of a door- after following the arrows- that had an Queen poster covering the upper half of the door and under it was a dodgers stadium picture that was signed by the legend himself Elton John, whoever was behind this door was very lucky. Looking at the corkboard you realized you were standing in front of Roland Shaw's room, almost immediately and annoyingly you starting thinking of the odds that Roland was with Taron at this exact moment, only a small door separated the two of them from you. A mechanical zooming in noise above Roland's door made you jump, looking up you see a security camera zooming in on you making your shrink away embarrassed and slightly scared for reasons the camera would never know. You had came to see Azalea and ended up at Roland's door thinking about Taron again and it just so happened to be that Azalea was right across the hall from Roland. You felt a stab of nostalgia when you looked at her door, so many stickers and posters about things in America, you could tell she missed home more than ever which made you miss everything about Scotland. You could have stood there for hours reading everything on her door but you felt odd standing in front of a room you were only half certain you were invited to until you saw the note on the board beside her door you pull it down from the board and open it to see what it had to say.

My darling Y/n,

If you actually showed up tonight, props! we will get along great.

If you did in fact bail on me, then get your hands off my private note ROLAND! God. How many times do I have to tell you?

Anyways, I knowww I said swing by tonight but I had to dash to biology earlier after getting assigned probation to catch up on some things. Which is to say, Rain check :) !

Your crackhead, A.

You stood with the note in your hand unsure what to do next. You were glad she was okay since the events after the cafeteria but you would have loved to see the girl in person to hear the nonchalance in her voice to truly know she was okay after the somewhat snappy note you had just read. A sudden panic filled you when you realized you were out of your room past dark.

A door suddenly creaked open and light flooded the hallway, you heard music coming from inside the room.

"What are you doing?" Roland asks leaning up against his door frame in a white shirt and ripped jeans as he holds a paper in his hands raising an eyebrow at you.

"I came to see Azalea." you say looking at him trying your best not to look past him to see if anyone else was with him. Anyone as in, Taron. "We were supposed to-"

"No ones home." he deadpans, you didn't know if he meant Azalea or the rest of the kids on this floor. He played with the paper in his hands keeping his eyes on you the whole time. Then he held the door open a little wider with a raised eyebrow, you couldn't tell whether or not he was inviting you inside or letting you know no one else was with him.

"Well, I was just off to swing to the library there is a book I need for my morning class with Bliss." you lie quickly turning back the way you came wanting to escape his intense gaze.

"Y/n," Roland calls out to you.

You turn around. You hadn't even officially met him yet which means someone told him your name, he flashes you a smile for the first time since you came here using the paper in his hand pointing the other direction. "Library is that way." he says before crossing his arms over his chest a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Be sure to check out the special collection area, they are really neat. You will recognize one of them."

"Thanks." you say feeling grateful as you change your course heading the opposite direction of where you came from. He seemed so normal when he waved smiling from ear at ear as you left. Maybe he only made you nervous earlier because you thought of him as Taron's friend. For all you knew, Roland could be a really nice person. Things were looking up, the non awkward encounter with Roland and you did want to check out the library to see if it was any different from the library at the conservatoire.

You push the doors open to the library stepping inside, a warm feeling came over you when you enter the library, you had always love the smell of libraries but this smelled like home. A fall scented candle filled the low lit library, the soft sounds of the turning pages of books as other students sat at round tables reading or having hushed conversations. The walls were a deep mahogany, the ceiling high with wooden beams spaced neatly. A few students were at the computers studying none that you knew by name, but even the rich kids looked less like bitches with their heads buried in books. A librarian sat behind her desk flipping through papers, her glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose as he lips turned up into a faint smile. She was old but the only youthful thing on her was her red hair tied up in a high bun on top of her head. Her head immediately popped up as you neared the desk.

"Hello!" She greets excitedly, smiling at you. An actual real smile. A closer look at her features and you see she looked both old and young and her hair had silver streaks in it, her nose slightly pointed as her big brown eyes shined in the light. She was absolutely stunning, dressed in the most elegant long sleeve dress as she stands her pale frail hands pushing the sleeves on her dress up exposing a golden bracelet. "What can I help you with?" she questions and you felt instantly at ease with the woman. You glance at the name tag on your desk, Mary Ellison. You did wish you had a specific request for the kind lady in front of you. She had been the first authoritative figure in this school that you would have seeked out for help but here you were wondering around... until she remembered what Roland had said.

"I'm new here," you begin to explain "Y/n L/n. Could you please tell me where the east wing is?"

The woman gave you a warm smile, the type of smile from a stranger that reminded you of home.

"Right that way," she said pointing toward a great bay window on the other side of the room. "I am Miss Mary, and if my schedule is correct..." she trails of flipping through pages in a very large book. "I have you in my theater classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Oh, we are going to have some fun!" she winks looking up at you. "In the meantime if you need anything. I'm here, I work as the schools librarian and theater arts teacher," she explains and you nod. That makes much more sense. "It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n."

You smiled and thanked her and told her quietly you would see her in class tomorrow before you make your way to the bay window on the other side of the room. You had just passed the main study and was passing through the tall elegant book stacks when you feel a stabbing pain in your head and your stomach sinks, you feel like your nearing something. Like a memory floating around in your head. You were nearing the past. That's when you feel flushed, it was warm in the library but not that warm. Your eyes land on him. On Taron. He was facing the window, his back was to you as he leaned over a podium that said SPECIAL COLLECTIONS in big gold letters. The sleeves on his leather jack were pushed up around his elbow, his golden brown hair glowed under the soft lights, and his shoulders were hunched over and yet again you had the instinct to fold yourself into his arms. You shook your head rolling your eyes becoming aggravated as she stood on her tip toes getting a closer look. His hand tightened on the podium as he drew. She couldn't go to him and ask what he was drawing like a normal person, your only communication with him was a couple of dirty looks and being flipped off. Yet for some strange reason you had to know what he was drawing in the sketchpad.

Then it hit you, the dream you had the night before. The briefest flash of it came back to you all of a sudden. In the dream, it had been late at night - cold, snowing, and you had been in a house full of people dressed in something short but it kept you warm. In the dream you had been looking for a boy, you never got to see his face only his back as he sat by a counter laughing as he talked with a taller guy with curly hair. You watched him talking with the man and before the dream ended he turned around.

You jerked forward feeling a pinch but see nothing, but you realize you are standing next to Taron. The pounding of your heart grows so loud that it fills your ears when you look around frantically to find what had just pinched you. Taron glanced up from his work and seemed to raise his eyes to where exactly the moon sat in the sky before his gaze settled calmly outside the window. You were close enough to him now that you were most certain he felt your presence near because his grip tightened on the podium.

"What are you doing over here?" he asked closing his sketchbook and was looking at her solemnly. His full lips were set in a full line and his hazel eyes looked dull. He didn't look angry for a change he looked exhausted.

"I came to check out a book from special collections," you say your voice wobbling but as soon as you looked around you regretted what you just said. There was no books in sight, it was full of Greek looking art and some random arts from students from over the years. You and Taron were standing in an art gallery, which is why he came to this place to draw.

"Good luck with that." Taron said turning away from you opening his sketchpad again as if to say goodbye. You were tongue tied and embarrassed to have trusted Roland - a stranger - to not lead you to the wrong area. It was as if everyone was trying to push you to him, like they all knew something you didn't. There was something about Taron that made her feel safe and protected from the world, you felt better around him than you have with anyone else in your life. You were stuck, rooted to the spot where you stand. Taron glanced up at you and sighed

"Let me ask you something," his voice had an edge to it "Do you like being snuck up on?"

You thought back to the time when Richard snuck up on in your dorm. You shake your head roughly.

"Okay, that makes two of us." he cleared his throat and stared at you, driving home the point that you were an intruder. Maybe you could make up an excuse that you were lightheaded and needed to sit down.

"Look can I-"

But Taron closed his sketchpad with a loud snap and got to his feet. "I came her to get away." he says cutting you off sending you a glare. "If you are not going to leave I will." he shoves his sketchpad into his bag. When he pushed past you, his shoulders brushed your. Even as brief as the touch was, even through the layers of clothing you felt a shock of static. For a long second Taron stood still as well, you both turned your heads to look at each other, you opened your mouth but before you could speak Taron had turned on his heel walking quickly towards the door. You watch him leave as you rest your hand on your shoulder before you rest your gaze out the window letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

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#taron egerton imagine #taron egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #Taron #taron egerton x reader #taron x reader #taron imagine #taron fanfiction

[rpgsandbox]

Wanderhome is a pastoral fantasy Role-Playing Game about traveling animal-folk, the world they inhabit, and the way the seasons change. It is a game filled with grassy fields, mossy shrines, herds of chubby bumblebees, opossums in sundresses, salamanders with suspenders, starry night skies, and the most beautiful sunsets you can imagine. You might be a tamarin who dances with small and forgotten gods, a leporine mail carrier who relies on moths to get packages where they belong, a little lizard with a big heart and a mysterious past, or a near-endless number of other thrilling possibilities. No matter what, we’re always travelers—animal-folk who go from village to village and get to see the length and breadth of all the world of Hæth. The seasons will change as we play, and we will change with them. But I can’t tell you all that will happen on our journey together, along the winding dirt road and amid the grassy fields. We’re just going to have to find that out together.

Will you join me?

Wanderhome makes use of a unique game system inspired by the No Dice, No Masters engine, developed by Avery Alder and Benjamin Rosenbaum for Dream Askew and Dream Apart. Each player will make a character with the help of one of fifteen possible playbooks, making choices about their personality, animal-form, look, and passions. Each of these playbooks give you a radically different approach both to navigating the setting and growing over time. From the carefree Ragamuffin to the introverted Poet, from the Guardian and their young ward to the lonely Exile, from the cheerful Dancer to the moody Veteran, there is plenty of space in Wanderhome to imagine every possible world that lives in your heart.

Once you’ve created your character, you and your fellow travelers guide them through the dreamlike pastoral world of Hæth. There are no dice in Wanderhome. Instead, you can inconvenience yourself or step outside your comfort zone in order to get tokens, and then turn around and spend those tokens to tackle larger problems and help make the world a better, kinder space.

                       Quote from Vincent and Elliot Baker of Lumpley Games

                          Quote from Samuel Mui Shen Ern, Babblegumsam

As you arrive at each new place, you’ll build it together using a combination of thirty-six distinct natures, including farms, fields, lakes, ports, glens, and towers, among many, many more. Each nature gives you the tools you need to imagine and articulate both the literal and metaphorical aspects of the place you find yourself in. These places have kith, ordinary people living ordinary lives, navigating a world that is both peaceful and difficult in its own ways. Each kith is made out of traits that range from crafty and adventurous to many-faced and oracular. These traits give kith things they can do to define their personality, articulate the problems in their life, and push the journey forward (for good or for ill.) Sometimes you’ll be able to help the kith with their problems, but more often than not you’ll just spend time with them and learn more about the world.

Wanderhome is structured with an emphasis on safety and care, built on my own work designing safety mechanics and constructing alternate safety approaches beyond the industry standards. It features a bespoke set of safety mechanics built around empowering players to guide the story however they want, which are used consistently throughout the game. It is also designed to collaboratively set the tone and articulate a version of Hæth that's perfect for your group.

Wanderhome is a GM-agnostic game–while you can play with a Guide facilitating the world, you can also approach it without anyone in charge, where everyone takes equal part in the collaborative conversation. And while you can play Wanderhome in as little as 3-4 hours, the longer you stay with Wanderhome the more the world will grow with you. The months will pass over time and as each season concludes you’ll get to make new choices about your character, advancing them in new directions and helping them grow in ways you didn’t think was possible. If you play long enough, eventually your characters will retire or grow apart, and the journey will continue with brand-new travelers and a vast world ahead of you.

                      The free playkit is available on Itch now! (Art by Letty Wilson)

Wanderhome is set in the wholly-original fantasy world of Hæth, inspired by the works of Brian Jacques, Tove Jansson, and Hayao Miyazaki. The game hints at and builds a mythological language around forces like the bitter King of the Floating Mountain, the Lily Rebellion, the Slobbering God and the blade that killed her, and the fall of the great dragons of old, but refuses to elaborate or define them—leaving that exercise to the players through the journey itself. Instead, Wanderhome is focused on the lives of ordinary people, and the world that exists for farmers, merchants, and crafts-folk.

Wanderhome is a world filled with animal-folk and their buggy livestock. Unlike many worlds with animal-folk, there is no morality or judgement ascribed to the various animals of Hæth—a snake is just as capable of being a kindly farmer as a rabbit, and you can’t assume much about someone based on what animal they are. You might find a fluffy shepherd with a herd of bumblebees, a shrewish merchant riding a stag beetle the size of a house, a lonely fox riding a grasshopper from place to place, or a praying mantis that hangs out in a gecko’s pocket.

     Quote from Avery Alder, Buried Without Ceremony (Art by Jennie Lindberg)

Wanderhome also features an original calendar of new months and seasons, with its own cycle of holidays and traditions. From flowery Bloommeadow to brisk Firetop to snug and quiet Snowblanket, each month is both rooted in potentially familiar natural cycles but with a unique twist. Each place you travel to has a different expression of the seasons in it - no matter how many times you travel through the year, it will always feel different. If you play Wanderhome long enough, you might even encounter unique phenomena that create a new twist on the calendar.

The Hæth is a world full of queer love, hope, happiness, and community. It is a land that was once ravaged by violence, but is putting itself back together again. Wanderhome dares to imagine a better world, one where money and power are distant stories from a bygone age, and we can learn to begin the process of healing.

                        Thumbnails by Danny Kyobe and Jo Thierolf

                                Mockups of the Book (design not final)

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, September 3 2020 1:25 PM BST

Website: [Jay Dragon] [twitter] [patreon] [itch]

#RPG #kickstarter #Wanderhome #Jay Dragon

[astralsweetness]

Gravity (Jinho/Reader/Hyunggu)(m)

➣ I have never once thought about this duo outside of duets before this damn song - which I had to translate by hand because I couldn’t find any English lyrics for it. >_> thank you @re-sugance and @forevertrashforbae for letting me show off my translation afterwards like a proud kid lmao

➣ Reader is domme. I accept nothing less. | Warnings include: mentions of drinking, multiple descriptions of various sexual encounters, humiliation, handjob, blowjob, cockwarming, choking (slight), noona kink (kind of, it’s more of a title in general and less sexual), pain kink, mentions of spanking, multiple orgasms, edging, overstimulation, pegging, referenced size kink, exhibitionism (slight), biting, jfc it’s a lot but it’s all consensual | This is basically just a collection of different little scenes in the life of a Jinho/Reader/Hyunggu relationship 👀 If there’s typos I’ll just throw myself off a cliff because I can’t be bothered to proof-read, yikes

➣ “You’re making me nervous, kiss me slowly. You teach me love.”

You notice two minutes into the night that they are orbiting around you like planets, never straying too far nor too close. The bartender gives you a sympathetic smile but says nothing – no doubt he thinks you’re being hounded by two boys trying to win your heart.

The assumption wasn’t too far off, to be honest, but they’d already acquired your affections long ago.

The weight of the wine on your tongue was only mildly unpleasant – it was too sweet for your liking, but you felt their gazes on you every time you tilted your head back to swallow it, so you kept drinking. You noticed that while both of them were matching you drink for drink only Hyunggu was becoming more competitive – Jinho seemed more than willing to take a passive, backseat role to any flirtation. You didn’t necessarily blame him, either. Hyunggu got fiercely competitive when he got a few drinks in him (and it wasn’t like you were going to give one of them more attention than the other anyway).

“Noona.” Age had long ago lost its meaning to the three of you – noona was a title of honor, of power, one only occasionally used. Hyunggu slid into the seat next to you, finally taking the plunge to enter your orbit. He bites his lip in a way he knows makes him look sexy, looks at you through his lashes in an attempt to be seductive and demure. His body language aside from that is too open though, too cocky and commanding, so you don’t reward him with your full attention, keeping your gaze ahead.

“Yes, Hyunggu?”

You can see his pout from your peripheral and you hide your little smile behind another sip of red liquid. He was absolutely adorable sometimes, and oh so easy to play.

“You’re being mean.” He’s instantly sulking, and you just laugh softly at him, toying with the rim of your wine glass. “And you’re laughing at me -”

“Lots of people laugh at you.” Jinho has suddenly decided to appear – he looks somehow more at ease with a drink in his hand than he should, and suddenly Hyunggu is focused on him instead, like he hadn’t noticed what Jinho had looked like all night because he’d been so focused on you.

It’s endearing, you think, to watch the way his eyes gloss over as he takes in his hyung’s visage – you wonder if that’s how you look when you stare at either of them.

Hyunggu, always more proactive than either of you, takes the initiative and leans forward – you’re not sure if he actually says anything to Jinho or just breathes against his ear, but the elder stiffens and his gaze drifts, suddenly unsteady. His fingers stay curled around the stem of his glass until you gently pry them away, and then he stuffs them into his pocket where you can’t see if they’re clenched tight or trembling.

“He’s so easy to get riled up.” Hyunggu says this to you like it’s a secret he’s sharing, and you grin and nod at him, happy to pretend like you’re both conspiring together. Jinho just swallows hard and watches you both, the tables turned on him so suddenly that he’s not sure what to do except stand beside the two of you who were still sitting at the bar.

“We should take him home.” Your words could mean so many things, but to Hyunggu it’s a promise of fun and to Jinho a promise to be wrecked. You get a nod from Hyunggu in response, who leans in close to Jinho again, close enough to kiss – Jinho’s eyes flutter but Hyunggu just pulls away, drawing the elder towards him as he heads towards the exit like a moth to a flame.

The bartender seems thoroughly confused with the way this has turned out, but you just smile and place down the payment for the drinks, in an extremely good mood. It wasn’t like the two rarely got along, but it was always fun when Jinho was the one thrown off balance instead of Hyunggu.

Still, in the end, you were the one who always had the last say. It’s that knowledge that fills you with a power that makes you feel weightless as you move through the room, smile turning dangerous when you see your two boys waiting for you obediently at the door.

.｡..｡.

It’s ten at night in some hotel room, and you’re busy edging Hyunggu while Jinho lounges serenely to the side. The energy in the space around you is a strange mixture of sleepy contentment and electric tension. You absolutely love the dichotomy between the two halves of the room, love and lust managing to coexist at the same time, similar but oh-so-separate from one another.

“You really get off on this, don’t you?” Your taunting cuts straight to Hyunggu’s core and his hips jerk under you, cock red and weeping viscous pre-cum into your hand. “Being so debauched and whorish with your hyung right over there, listening to it all. It just gets to you, doesn’t it, having one of your bandmates watch you get put in your place.”

“Dirty~” Jinho hums from his own hotel bed, impossibly cheerful as he flips between channels on the TV. He’s not really actively watching the two of you, though his gaze does occasionally flick over to look. Hyunggu just lets out a thoroughly pitiful sounding sob in response, twisting to try to bury his face in the pillow his head rested on – your hand on his neck stops him from twisting too far and he gasps, face red from a heady mixture of humiliation and arousal.

“Ple-ase –” Hyunggu is begging for you to stop, for you to touch him, for you to keep talking – he’s really not even sure what for at this point but he babbles anyway, tears collecting in his lashes, unshed.

“What does it feel like, knowing every time he sees you on stage, or has to sing a duet with you, he’ll just remember you moaning and begging to cum like some sort of slut?”

“Every time I see him on stage I’ll only be able to think about this.” Jinho confirms, voice chipper and upbeat, always ready to help you out – Hyunggu’s fingernails dig into your arm as he explodes, throwing his head back, painting his upper chest white. His hips stutter beneath your hands long after the initial orgasm and you lovingly swipe your finger back and forth over the head of his cock until he’s shaking and locking his jaw, cumming a second time from your teasing ministrations. The second time is weaker than the first, but he still bucks at the sensation, moans more like pleading sobs now as the orgasmic fire burns him from the inside.

Covered in sweat and cum, dark hair plastered to his forehead with tear-tracks on his face and spit-slicked lips – Hyunggu is wrecked and he stares at you unfocusedly, gaze drifting around the hotel room unsteadily as he comes back to himself. His grip on your arm has loosened but he hasn’t released you entirely, so you uncurl his fingers from your forearm and kiss his knuckles lovingly.

“You came a lot.” Jinho appears at the side of the bed, inquisitive and unbothered by the wreck that was his dongsaeng. “Woooow.” He drags the word out, sliding one digit through the mess of cum and sweat that had collected in the other’s collarbones. Hyunggu, ever so sensitive, shivers from the mere contact alone, his eyes fluttering open. As exhausted as he is, he looks at his hyung hungrily – you’re amused, and go about gathering his attention again. You know his body better than he does and he’s at his physical limit right now.

“He did well, right Jinho?” Your praise is followed by a kiss pressed to the younger’s hairline, and a responding sound of acknowledgement from the elder who cards fingers softly through Hyunggu’s hair. He’s a bit disappointed that Jinho didn’t take his bait but he settles down with a sigh pushed out through his nose, tilting his head back invitingly as you run a damp washcloth across the skin there.

.｡..｡.

“Open.” You command Jinho and he looks up from his phone in confusion, dutifully opening his mouth anyway. His face lights up into a brilliant smile when you place a square of chocolate onto his pink tongue. Sweat sticks his clothes to his body and his hair to his forehead, and you think he is stunning.

“You’re ruining my diet.” He reminds you, focus back on his phone but smile still on his lips. You can tell he doesn’t mind your little interference overly much.

To be honest, maybe you were trying to ruin his diet – recently you’d noticed that whenever Hyunggu stretched you were able to count the individual ribs beneath the skin of his sternum, and it kicked your protective instincts into overdrive. You didn’t want either of your boys suffering like that, and while Jinho wasn’t nearly as thin that didn’t mean he was at a healthy weight. (You didn’t want any of their brothers in the same boat either. When you’d walked back-stage you’d given each of them some sort of candy or treat – even Hongseok, who you were sure had accepted just to make you happy. You were the favorite noona of the day because of that.)

Hyunggu had managed to escape you though, already off to get his makeup removed after the concert, so now you were sitting cross-legged beside Jinho, watching him watch his phone. He’d flick his gaze over to you every now and then, small smile widening when he saw you were still focused on him.

“You did well.” You praise, and he smiles with teeth and dips his head at you as he says his thanks. You always praised him after every performance and he always reacted just as genuinely as the first time. It makes your heart hurt with how much you love him.

When Hui sidles up beside you both you think he’s after more of your chocolate – you’re reaching for it when he nudges your shoulder, posture relaxed and open despite the knowing smirk adorning his face.

“We’ll be leaving soon, maybe twenty-five minutes or so.” It’s such a casual statement but his eyes glitter with amusement – he was probably the best wingman anyone could ask for, and you make a mental promise to think of a way to pay him back later. In the meantime you settle for thanking and giving him the remaining candy - he just laughs and says that he’ll probably get accosted now by everyone else instead of you. (Which works well towards your sudden plan, you both know.)

It takes another five minutes after that before you gently tug Jinho towards one of the many utility closets in the winding underbelly of the building, dodging past stylists and backstage workers who couldn’t care less where the two of you were headed so long as it didn’t interfere with their own job.

He whines at you that it’s a bad idea but almost outpaces you when you slow down, sulking as you pause to let a group slip by you, sweatier than Jinho, fresh off the stage. His gaze follows them for a split second, as if suddenly realizing where he was, before he goes right back to sulking.

In the closet he shifts from sulky indignance to compliant submissiveness, tilts his head to the side invitingly for your lips to press upon his pulse point. It’s always hard to refuse him when he’s like this, but you do anyway, pushing at his shoulders gently to back him up as far as he can go in the small space.

“You have makeup all over you, baby. I’m not putting my mouth anywhere above your neck.” Your words are, of course, met with a whine, but you place a finger against his lips to quiet him. When you pull it away it’s tinged slightly pink from the lip tint, silently proving your point. “Everyone would know if you went back out there with everything suddenly smudged.”

“Then what –“ He’s just so absolutely sulky that you can’t help but reach for his arm, pressing kisses to his forearm, up to his bicep. He goes silent instantly, swallowing hard, eyes wide. Simply kissing like this shouldn’t have been so.. erotic.

You can feel him stiffening against your thigh with every graze of your teeth over thin skin, and when he begins trying to grind against your leg you hike it up higher, watching with a piercing gaze as he tries not to make eye-contact with you. The way his eyes dart as he gets himself off gives you a warm feeling that coils contentedly in your chest, one that only grows whenever he locks eyes with you and instantly looks away, cheeks darkening.

His breath stutters and almost full-on stops when you reach for his slim-fitted pants – there’s not much room but you fit your hand inside anyway, not bothering to pull them down. Your thumb presses into his slit, leaking pre-cum, and he mewls pitifully at the feeling.

“Ahnn-n-no..” He tries to object but it’s a weak whisper, and his fingers curling around your wrist draw you closer instead of pushing you away. You step in front of him, slot one of your hips against his to pin him against the back wall, even as your hand continues its steady motion.

“No? Jinho, sweetie, do you want me to stop?” The words are spoken into the heated air between the two of you, and while you’d much rather say them into the soft skin of his neck you want him to be able to properly verbalize his response.

It’s a moot point anyhow, because he just squints his eyes shut and shakes his head quickly, almost frantically. His fingers tighten around your hand, as if afraid you’d decide this was a bad idea and leave him high and dry.

He didn’t need to worry about that – you nudge aside the collar of his ridiculously sequined stage jacket, nip at his inner shoulder. He tastes of sweat and bruises easily, arches into any of the sensations you deign to give him. The heat around your hand, shoved down the front of his pants, is humid and wet and you let him thrust into the loose ring your fingers have become, watching with predatory eyes as he ruts against your hand like some sort of horny teen, comes undone and bites hard into his wrist to stay quiet. (You sink your own teeth into the opposite side of his wrist and his moan manages to get out anyway, all of his weight against the wall as he fights to keep from collapsing.)

It takes little to no time at all to make yourself presentable again, but Jinho is a different story – no matter how outwardly casual he looks his gaze is still glassy, and dual teeth-marks dot one of his hands.

When you exit the closet Jinho tries to melt into your side, inconspicuous, when the maknae trio comes up to you to thank you again for the chocolate (even if Hyunggu hadn’t taken any in the beginning). You know he wants to escape to the bathroom right away to clean up and become orderly again, but he’s caged in by three of his dongsaengs, so he instead tries to take solace in the warmth of standing so close to you. In a distant corner of the room you can see Shinwon has, as predicted, stolen most of the candy you’d given to Hui.

It’s mostly Wooseok who’s thanking you, all big eyes and admiration, while Yuto stands slightly to the side murmuring his own thanks shyly whenever you turn your full focus to him. You find them both adorable, this youthful infatuation they have for you absolutely endearing.

Hyunggu just finds it funny, arms crossed as he watches them, Wooseok unable to stop talking and Yuto unable to talk at all. His gaze is stolen by Jinho though, and it takes him all of five seconds to send you an accusatory glance after taking in the way Jinho is still slightly red-faced, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably, gaze flicking between different occupants of the room at random intervals.

You just send him a serene smile. If he hadn’t avoided you earlier then that could have been him.

.｡..｡.

It was a running joke that Hyunggu was overly sensitive, cried too easily – you were used to seeing him tear up suddenly at some sweet thing either of you did or said to him. Jinho teased him relentlessly for it, poking at his cheek playfully while calling him ‘the cutest baby’. (The irony was not lost on any of you that Jinho was arguably smaller and more baby-like than anyone in the room, but it always made Hyunggu smile again anyway, which was the aim of the comment.)

During sex he cried just as easily, quick to tears if edged or over-stimulated, full on sobbing whenever he got the paddle. It was one of your favorite things about him, how responsive he was to everything, how unashamed of these things he was.

So, in short, Hyunggu crying was never really an issue and usually not a cause for concern.

It’s when you get home and he sees you, smiling and shining with love seconds before he crumples, voice evaporating midway through “welcome back” that you know there’s something seriously wrong.

He’s not laughing it off, his fingers clenched into fists as he ducks his head and clenches his eyes shut, shoulders hunched and bending inwards as if he was trying to physically protect his vulnerable front from the world. He tries to speak again and ends up just cramming one of his fists against his teeth, trembling.

“Oh, honey..” You have to draw him into your arms since he doesn’t move towards you at all, and he resists at first, keeping his arms stiff at his sides while simply resting his forehead on your shoulder. “What happened?”

It’s your question that gets to him, and he melts into your warmth, hands flying up to clutch at your sweater. You cup the back of his head and let him cry into your neck, his sobs nearly silent but still just loud enough you can hear them.

It’s breaking your fucking heart.

He never does answer your questions, just eventually stops crying and keeps his arms wrapped around you while you go about your tasks until you finally give up and sit down on the couch with him, letting him curl against your side. He falls asleep almost instantly, tear tracks on his face at heartbreaking odds with how relaxed he now looks.

When you ask Jinho about it later you get vague explanations – the elder is clearly keeping anything regarding the issue close to his chest, and eventually you stop pressing. As annoying as it was to not know, you understood why he was so intent on keeping it private, especially if it involved their career. (And while his not-an-answer-answer didn’t totally sate your worry, you knew Jinho was just as capable of taking care of Hyunggu as you were, and you trusted him to make these kinds of decisions just as he trusted you to do the same.)

Later that night Hyunggu automatically gets the middle position in bed – he blushes intensely at the combined concentration on him, usually so cocky about being the center of attention but shy this time in the wake of his breakdown, hides his flush in Jinho’s shoulder as you kiss down his neck with tongue and teeth.

Everything is kept soft that night, sweet and sensual, and when Jinho slots his mouth against Hyunggu’s you watch them in a sort of lovestruck daze. Despite all the hardships, you really never thought it possible to feel this happy and content in life.

.｡..｡.

You press a hand on Jinho’s lower back and force him into more of an arch, fucking into him aggressively – he splays out his hand in front of him and sobs, cock dangling heavy and abused between he and the wall. His hands are in fists after having been ordered not to touch himself, and it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard when all he wants is to reach down and wrap his fingers around himself, a single touch is really all he needs to finally get the release he’s seeking –

It’s almost painful, how often you can hit his prostate dead-on with your infamous strap-on, and he bites his tongue hard enough he tastes blood. A few rooms away are the rest of his members, Hyunggu included, and while it wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t been caught before (you were still apologizing to Changgu for what he’d walked in on) it still sent a sharp thrill down to his stomach to try not to get caught again.

Not that it was easy – he wasn’t exactly known for his deep or quiet voice. You were pretty sure he’d been heard more often than you’d been caught.

“I’m –“ His voice is thin, and he has to swallow once before beginning again, body stiffening after a particularly hard thrust. “I’m so – so close..” The moans he’d been fighting so hard to keep silent slip from his mouth as you sink your teeth into his shoulder, stalling your hips in favor of taking his cock in hand. In seconds his release is covering your hand, dripping down your knuckles – he reaches to help keep the mess minimal but ends up just gripping your wrist tightly, head lolling back and eyes closing.

Jinho slides down the wall to his knees once you pull out, full-body trembling as he rests his forehead against the smooth, cool surface. He’s breathing hard, shoulders heaving as he sucks in deep breaths. Your rake your fingers through his hair and he lets out one last soft moan at the feeling, how impossibly tender you are with him now that you’d completely wrecked him.

“You did well.” Your praise is like a physical balm to his exhausted body, the kiss you drop onto his lips as you hand over tissues a type of physical warmth that envelopes him and makes it impossible for a content smile not to linger on his face.

You can’t help but laugh softly after checking your phone, which garners Jinho’s attention as he pulls his clothes back on. When you show him your screen he just smiles even more and murmurs something softly about sensitive maknaes always needing attention, a scoff to his voice that doesn’t quite match his fond expression.

Hui’s text to you is stark black against the white background: Whenever you’re done corrupting our hyung you need to come out here and console Hyunggu, he’s been sulking ever since he realized what you two were doing :(

.｡..｡.

Hyunggu makes a soft sound and you glance up at him, knee beside your face bouncing anxiously – he’s looking back at you dazedly, dark hair ruffled from where he’d pushed his hand through it moments before. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and his fingers curl against the edge of the studio’s desk. His phone sits forgotten somewhere on its surface, his promise to start a V Live completely abandoned. An old recording of a live performance from Ella Fitzgerald plays quietly in the background, a track he’d intended to use as background music for the stream.

You smile and rest your head against his thigh, thumbing the head of his cock lovingly, reveling in the way his hips roll minutely into it. His breathing has turned harsh and all you’ve done so far was wrap your hand around him.

“You knew what I was going to do when I got down here.” While you’re speaking his hand reaches towards you, but a sharp glance has it hesitantly freezing before gripping the arm of the chair instead. “Didn’t you?”

He swallows hard once and nods, eyes so infinitely dark that the light reflects off of them in little astral bursts. “Y-yeah..” His voice is rough, and you drink in the sound of it. “I just – I mean, it was kind of.. hard to imagine – to come to terms with you really doing it..”

“Relax.” Your murmur is soft, and he glances at the studio door once – the unlocked studio door. He makes no move to change that. “I just want you to feel good before you meet Universe, yeah? You look so tense right now that you’d just worry them.”

You know some of the tension is because you’re right there, mouth inches from his cock and fingers looped loosely around it, but you can’t accredit yourself for all of it. He’s been undeniably strained ever since the fansign was canceled, a tightness to his shoulders every time they had to go out and perform for the cameras without an audience to dance for –  not to mention the fact that ever since promotions had started he’d kept himself busy enough that the two of you hadn’t had any solo time together for about two weeks.

“So, I’m going to make you orgasm.” You say it straight-forwardly, eyebrows raised, waiting for an objection – you never get one. Hyunggu instead just shifts lower into his seat, trying to mentally prepare himself.

He knows, the moment he feels the first blindingly hot stripe licked up his cock, that he could never have been prepared.

Two weeks of abstinence has left him sensitive and more desperate than he realized, and he’s almost embarrassed by how quickly turned on he gets, the feeling of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva making his head spin.

One of his hands is half-covering his face while the other clutches at his side in a desperate attempt to hold on to something, anything – when you offer your hand it takes mere seconds before his fingers are interlacing with your own, a grounding, loving connection even as you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper.

He swears he’s fucking dying.

There’s a fire in his stomach, pure white-hot flames licking at his muscles, his skin, causing sweat to collect under his shirt, and the tightness in his shoulders and neck can’t compete with the feeling building up in his hips, bone-deep and aching. He can’t do much else than breathe harshly out through his nose, eyes falling shut. It was too much effort, energy, and focus to keep them open, and he feels so completely ripped apart by your tongue and lips and fucking mouth that any of the usual sounds he makes have been stolen from him, replaced by wheezing gasps of pleasured pain.

He doesn’t manage to warn you he’s close verbally, but you recognize it anyway – his entire body locks, fingers crushing your own, and you have just enough time to pull your mouth off of him so he can cum in your hand.

Between each gasping heave of his chest he murmurs a thank you, until his words run together and he bites his tongue to stop from sounding like even more of a fool in front of you. He can feel your lips pressing tender kisses against his cock even as you clean your hand off, and he can’t stop the way he shakes at the feeling.

Tears are caught in his lashes by the time you’re finished, and you cup his feverish face in your hands and draw him towards you, pressing more kisses against his eyelids. He is an absolute wreck, emotionally and physically, so when you try to remove your hands and he grasps for them and keeps them pressed to his collar you let him do as he pleases.

“You feel better, sweetheart?” Your words aren’t answered, but you keep talking all the same. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? Perfect and wonderful and talented, and so so good. You know I love you, right? Because I do, so much, Hyunggu, I love you so much.”

He sniffs, finally pulling one of his hands away to scrub furiously at his face, a watery sounding laugh escaping him – and you know he’s okay now, safe to be left on his own. Still, you linger in the room until he’s fully composed, checking his appearance in his phone’s camera. When he catches you watching him through it he smiles, a genuine smile that drags at your heart and makes your knees feel weak.

“I love you too.” He’s saying it late, but that doesn’t mean he means it any less. When you press your lips to his all you can think of is how you’d give anything to make sure he kept smiling like that.

.｡..｡.

Love, you think, can be shown in many different ways. One of the biggest is seeing Jinho under the covers, nestled down on his phone, waiting for you to come and join him before he falls asleep.

“You should have gone to sleep!” Your chiding is gentle and so affectionate that it loses any edge you’d wanted it to have had. “You’ve been complaining about being tired so often – why wouldn’t you take advantage of any free time you had?”

“It’ll be better with you.” His answer is so direct and short that you can’t help but laugh – his face crinkles into a smile at the sound, and he pats the empty space next to him invitingly.

By the time you’re ready to crawl into bed with him he’s become restless, and as soon as you’re semi-laying down you find yourself being clung to. His head rests easily on your chest, fingers curling into your night-shirt, lashes dark against his skin as he heaves a sigh that relaxes his entire body.

“Sweet dreams.” You whisper your words into his hair, one hand at the base of his skull and the other on his back. He doesn’t respond with much more than an acknowledging hum, already slipping into a deep sleep.

You’re not tired at all, but you settle down anyway, content with stroking fingers through his hair. The resulting silence is almost suffocating, but you don’t find it uncomfortable – there’s a warmth in your bones that isn’t from the blankets or the body on top of you, a harsh lurch in your chest that flows through your veins. It’s almost staggering how much you care for the man asleep on you.

Yes, love didn’t have to be verbally exclaimed. Actions could show your devotion to someone just as well.

.｡..｡.

“Stay still now, honey.” You smooth a hand over Hyunggu’s sweat slicked chest, his breathing an endless staccato that matched in time with the fluttering of your innermost walls around his thoroughly abused cock. “Just relax.”

It was so easy for you to say that, laying yourself down on top of him and pillowing your head on your forearms across his collarbones, a comforting weight that would have been soothing if not for the blinding heat surrounding him. Every time he started to relax one of you would shift and painful electric shocks would shoot through his nerves all over again.

“I’m not good at this sort of thing..!” Hyunggu’s mewls are lost to your lips, and he switches from whining with words to letting out pathetic sounds into your mouth, pliant despite his protests. He can already feel himself hardening again despite knowing it wasn’t what you wanted.

“Baby, I’m not in the mood to go again.” Pet-names flow from your mouth like a stream as you apologize, pressing kisses against his cheeks and temple. “I thought you’d be able to handle this sort of thing by now.” More kisses are dotted in between his shaky “me too”, and his sucked in breath becomes a thin and fragile moan as you slowly rise up and off him. “Maybe you’ll get lucky, sweetheart, and Jinho will –“

“I’m back!” The very first thing he’s greeted with upon arrival is the sight of Hyunggu staring at him hungrily as his essence drips from your slit in viscous rivulets. His cheerful, upbeat demeanor is frozen on his face as a congenial smile, even as his mind flashes to dark places and he swears he can suddenly taste the combined arousals from the both of you on his tongue.

“Broke him.” Hyunggu’s soft laugh is breathless and aroused, even as he pushes himself up and tries to cover his bottom half with the sheets, as if being shielded would make everyone forget about how red and wet his cock was at the moment.

Jinho’s gaze locks with yours briefly, assessing the room – at your small nod his fingers are unzipping his jacket, losing it to the floor somewhere as he tugs his shirt over his head. Fading bruises swarm his naturally tanned skin, still a bit purple but not nearly dark enough for your liking. You’d gotten so much shit for that, from his stylists and bandmates and everyone else except for him who had worn them with a type of embarrassed pride, ducking his head and not looking at all upset that he’d had to cover up for their performance.

The bed dips as he crawls onto it, Hyunggu’s swallow audible in your ear as Jinho reaches for your bare calf tentatively, settles on his stomach and rests his head on your crossed ankles. He’s always been the more obedient one, knowing that he’d end up more satisfied if he played by your rules.

“You should learn from Jinho.” Hyunggu scoffs at your words, wrapping his arms around your waist. You can feel the tension in his forearms threaded across your midriff, the way his hands grip at his own skin to keep himself from taking the pleasure he wants so badly. Jinho, meanwhile, has crawled up your body with the behest of a single one of your fingers hooked beneath his chin, gaze glassy.

“I’ll clean up after him..?” Jinho’s statement shifts to a question last second, dark eyes switching to his dongsaeng briefly – there’s a strange feeling at parodying the hierarchical ladder they usually exist in, the idea that as the eldest hyung Jinho had to clean up after the messes Hyunggu made. It feels.. wrong, in a very satisfying way, to apply that logic to a sexual encounter.

At a nod from you his tongue darts out, tentative and shy at first – you let out a sigh of encouragement and contentment, fingers threading through his dark hair. He tilts his head into your hand and closes his eyes, shuffling forward the last few centimeters so he can attach his lips to you. Hyunggu’s chin has come to rest on your shoulder as he watches Jinho work with eyes that are equally dark as they are sparkling, intense hunger for the moment overridden by a sort of awed reverence as he observes how his elder pays tribute to you.

Even once you are clean he doesn’t let up, continues to lap and suck as he was instructed until you are content and release your grip on his hair, fingers trailing down his cheek to his chin. Lips slick with saliva curl into a smile at your gentle touch, eyelids fluttering open.

“Take notes, Hyunggu.” Your words are lost to the younger, who was still staring at Jinho intently with eyes blown wide – whether or not he was going to be able to recollect any of this was up for debate, more likely to remember everything as a blur of sexual need.

“I think he does an okay job already.” Jinho’s voice is slightly rough as he speaks, grinning widely when you shoot him a look before becoming conveniently focused on taking his pants off. Your gaze burns into his back as he does so, filling him with a giddy sort of excitement. He knew you weren’t actually upset, maybe a bit miffed at most.

“Just come here, you mouthy little thing.” You reach out to him and he goes to you instantly, posture suddenly less open, doing his best to fade into your commanding aura. His body language was always so easy for you to read, even without the very obvious sign of his arousal out on full display now.

Jinho nestles onto his back, squirming a bit until he’s comfortable – he doesn’t stop squirming until you wrap an arm around him and guide his head to rest on your inner shoulder, a convenient place for him if you want to be able to drop a kiss to his temple. (Or just an easy way to make him feel small and protected all over, since he could turn his head and have it buried in your chest with your arms around him.)

Hyunggu’s plastered against your back, practically vibrating at this point, his cock an annoying bother poking into your side. Jinho notices his intense gaze and flushes, amused and embarrassed in equal measure.

“I can’t tell if he wants to fuck me or eat me.” Jinho’s comment has Hyunggu flushing this time, ducking his head – it wipes away the ravenous expression that has lingered ever since Jinho got home, replacing it with a type of happy embarrassment. Being teased by one of you always made him feel warm inside, accepted, instead of ridiculed.

“Fuck you.” He promises, and then dips his head to nip at your shoulder impatiently. You can feel his tongue dart out against your skin before he’s trailing open-mouthed kisses towards your neck, too riled up for his own good.

“Then you’re focused on the wrong person..” Jinho’s grumbling is met by your laughter, a gentle tug at the crook of Hyunggu’s arm to direct him away from you and towards his real goal. A bruise blooms along the gentle sweeping of Jinho’s hipbone, left behind by Hyunggu as he gets into position. His fingers frame it nicely, surrounding but never pressing down on it.

“Fuck..” It’s more a whimper than anything else, Jinho’s nails digging into your arm as you press kisses to his furrowed brow. Hyunggu trails his hands up his hyung’s side, willing him to relax, to take all of him. A low groan is tugged from Hyunggu’s chest at the feeling.

Jinho squirms once Hyunggu bottoms out, clearly uncomfortable – it’s not uncommon for him to take a while to acclimate to the stretch, and the two of you have become pros at soothing him until he does. It takes a little while, but between your soft caresses against his face and Hyunggu’s open-mouthed kisses against his neck his shifting becomes more needy and less pained.

To be completely honest, you were incredibly impressed with Hyunggu’s self-control – for someone who had been so horny he’d barely remembered the need to prep he was being immensely tender to Jinho, holding as still as possible until he was given the okay to move. Even over-come by lust he was always so thoughtful.

“Perfect boy.” The compliment comes out instantly, not directed at either of them but instead just said to the room – Jinho, feeling exposed, tucks his face into your shoulder while Hyunggu lowers his head and smiles, edges softening just a bit at such blatant love.

You apologize for killing the mood by wrapping your fingers around Jinho’s cock, paying extra attention to the pre-cum trailing down its side – it causes a chain reaction of movements that culminate in hands grabbing hard at hips and mouths falling open helplessly, a beautiful display of the best kind of agony.

Lithe fingers tug at yours insistently until you allow them to take your place, dark eyes watching you as you watch Hyunggu take over. He’s more aggressive with his touch than you are, falling into the same pace his hips are making, and Jinho’s moan gets lodged in his throat as a choke, muscles tightening.

“Ohh –“ Hyunggu’s back bows and his forehead knocks against Jinho’s collarbone, hips pressing as close to the elder as he can – you can tell by the way he’s just folded that the orgasm took him completely by surprise. Jinho, even with his eyes squeezed shut and his mind somewhere far away, pushes his hand through Hyunggu’s hair comfortingly. It makes your heart ache with adoration.

“Hyunggu, baby, Jinho hasn’t cum yet.” Your gentle scolding has the younger trying to move again, rising up on trembling forearms, weak thrusts that are uncoordinated and shaky yet make Jinho cry out all the same. “I know you must be so sensitive by now, you’re doing so good.”

Jinho’s bottom lip has been torn to shreds and his hips roll against Hyunggu’s, doing the job for him as he chases after his orgasm with a single-minded mentality – his eyes are squeezed shut but he still turns his face into your shoulder, pants open-mouthed against your bare skin as you hug him closer to you.

“Can’t –“ Hyunggu is shaking, his head bowed and back arched, shuddering – everything is too much for him now, pleasure white-hot and bursting across his vision in a way that makes him more than dizzy, makes him feel close to fainting. He knows he’s supposed to be doing something, moving his hand for some reason, but he really can’t remember why anymore – he feels slender fingers wrap around his own, his hyung’s fingers, and they’re moving again and Jinho is moaning louder now and he’s not really sure what’s happening with the way his head is spinning but he’s glad Jinho sounds like he feels good. “I can’t –“

“You can, baby, I know you can.” You hold out your free hand, the one not on Jinho’s shoulder, and Hyunggu cranes his head towards it and presses a kiss to your palm, lets your thumb slip past his plush lips. “Just a little bit longer.” His silent moan can be felt vibrating through your fingertip, hips twitching. Jinho is still making enough noise on his own for three people, the hand that’s not occupied curled so tightly into the bedsheets you’re almost positive they’ll be cramping later.

He stops moving entirely when Jinho seizes and then thrashes violently, the same fingers that had been guiding his hand now wrapped so tightly around them that they begin to lose feeling. (He manages to crack his eyes open to send you a grateful glance when you reach out and loosen them, drawing Jinho’s hand into your own instead.)

Jinho’s pants are high and exhausted, covered in his own cum and sweat from exertion, and you can tell from the way Hyunggu’s biting his lip that he isn’t going to be able to crash over the edge himself this time – you quietly tap his shoulder and all the tension drains out of his body immediately as he takes your cue to finally pull out. He and Jinho make a sound that is so surprisingly similar you wonder which one of them picked it up from the other.

“So tired..” Hyunggu collapses across Jinho’s legs and neither of them move after that – you stifle a laugh and disentangle yourself from them both, going in search of washcloths and comfortable outfits they could easily pull on.

It’s a bit of an ordeal to work around two limp and exhausted bodies, but as someone who was used to dealing with two idols who were constantly over-worked (or over-sexed) you had it down to an art form, and both of your boys are fast asleep in a tangle of limbs under the covers and in soft clothes in short order.

It gives you time to settle down next to them and just breathe, safe in this little pocket of time and space the three of you had managed to carve out and solidify for yourselves. When you glance over at them they’re dead to the world, and to be completely honest you’re not totally sure where one of them ends and the other begins. You like it that way, though.

In fact, you liked everything about this, the way they made your life feel a little brighter or warmer, how it was so easy to connect with one or both of them despite how rarely your projected paths would usually cross unless one of the three of you didn’t actively change courses to make it happen.

The gravity that love had was seemingly inescapable, and you were immensely grateful for it.

#sub!jinho #sub!kino #jinho x reader #kino x reader #pentagon x reader #smut #sub!pentagon

[naitiaclo960writings]

Day 15 - Third Eye

(Warnings: consensual drug use + dark fic)

Move. Kill. Don’t mourn, no time. Start again.

Some wouldn’t call it a life, and Dean thought they would be right. It wasn’t a life, it was survival. In 2014, in this world infected by a freaking zombie apocalypse and Lucifer in person walking the Earth with his Knights of the Apocalypse, no one had a life anymore. Some of them were literally no longer alive. Half the population was now wandering the streets animated by an insatiable thirst for blood. The other half killed each other or desperately hoped to put themselves through it, but everyone knew it was a crazy hope. Dean knew it, he learned it too many times at his own expense.

His mother was dead, his father was dead, his friends were dead, and his brother said yes to the only asshole responsible for this nightmare. Dead, too. Even his trusty car was dead, rusting in a corner of vegetation that ended up gnawing it to the bone. The only thing Dean could call "his reason keep going" was this camp of survivors barely holding up. Although it eluded his own understanding, he was the leader, which mostly included keeping everyone alive. It was definitely more of a curse than a blessing when you thought of every opportunity to die in such a world. Dean wasn’t even sure he wanted to survive himself most of the time.

Today, he had to kill one of his men in cold blood again because of a croat who infected him during their raid on the outside, which reduced their force to 23 now, including 11 people unable to fight or go on missions. Dean sighed, pinching the base of his nose while still feeling this migraine pointing behind his eyes. Following this incident, Dean had taken care of the reserve to find out what they should find in priority of their next raid and had followed Risa up to the North Wall to investigate a breach. He had put some men on the job before listening to Chuck’s umpteenth complaints about rationing and, finally, he had locked himself in the military room to keep up with Lucifer’s latest advances in the country.

Now, once his migraine was in full swing, he was standing in front of this familiar curtain of pearls that served as a safe door in front of him. Although times are tough for everyone, Dean knew he still had a friend left on this gangrene Earth. He was certainly the strangest and most atypical friend he could have had by his side, the one who did him the most harm as well. Castiel for whom he felt responsible and, therefore, guilty of his present state. But Castiel was also the friend who had stayed with him to the end.

"And look at the result," a disturbingly voice whispered in his head. He pushed it back into the depths of his mind. Dean discarded the pearls in front of him and made his way into the protective den of his friend reeking sage. He came here to seek a little comfort, selfishly. He knew that he had already worn Castiel to the core and yet he kept coming back to ask him for more, over and over again just to see if Castiel would say yes every time. He never said no, anyway.

"Cas." Dean called once with his tired voice.

He was almost relieved to not see a group of naked women from the encampment in the middle of the room. He had witnessed this kind of debacle far too often to still find it amusing. Not seeing his friend in the main room, he went a little further into the building until a wide curtain of washed-out sheets concealed Castiel’s bedroom. He knew he would find him there rather than wandering around the camp. Castiel had no reason to go out if he wasn’t in a raid or stoned. Or both.

Indeed, Dean spread the sheets and his eyes fell upon Castiel lying in the middle of a king-size mattress that had known better days. He was currently sorting a small, dark green, powdery product in a bottle cap, several disemboweled cigarettes resting around him. Dean knew all too well what he was doing and it would be a lie to say that he had not hoped to find him in this exact situation. He took a brief moment to contemplate the emaciated features and pale skin of Castiel, who had raised his head towards him, before coming to sit on the mattress with him.

Castiel did not utter a word, he just threw him that trembling smile that he had for years now, a smile almost crazy of something. Dean watched him do it calmly by rubbing his brow arch distractingly, thoughtful. It was their thing. When Dean was at his wits' end, he would come knocking on Castiel’s door and get high with him until he forgot everything. He could have lingered and wept over the fact that this now represented their only contact face to face. The rest of the time, Dean yelled his orders at everyone and treated his "friends" as soldiers: sacrificial and replaceable. Tools for his own survival. But when he came to intoxicate his mind with Castiel in this makeshift hut, then he could almost claim that everything had gone back to the way it was before and it was beautiful. Who was he to blame Castiel for injecting that into his veins all day? He’d give anything to stay forever in that kind of dream, too.

When Castiel was satisfied with his opium, he emptied a cigarette of part of its tobacco before replacing it with opium. He clumsily closed the whole thing with a second sheet of rolling tobacco and did the same with all the next cigarettes. When he finished, he turned his curious gaze to Dean. Dean poked around in his pocket for a moment before taking out his lighter. Castiel immediately carried an opium-cut cigarette to his mouth and leaned forward. Dean activated his lighter to light his cigarette before closing the flap of his Zippo with a sharp noise. He watched patiently as Castiel lit a second cigarette with the glowing tip of his own before handing it to Dean.

"For you, my dear leader." Castiel mocked with a hoarse voice and on the verge of insult. "Open your third eye, Dean. That’s all we had left anyway."

Dean swallowed with difficulty in the face of the veracity of Castiel’s words and took the cigarette between his fingers. He took the time to lean against the wall behind him before pulling on the small roll of tobacco. As soon as the smoke filled his lungs, he felt his body relax and leaned a little more against the wall behind him. The effect was always almost immediate and that was exactly what he needed. If he could, he’d get rid of his brain permanently. He would lie down on the same mattress gnawed by the moths and inject himself with so many drugs that it would make the most delicious overdose in total indifference. But he couldn’t do it. So he was content to come and get high like that miserable thing he was before he came out and continue to utter orders here and there, as if he were able to change anything to this insignificant existence.

Dean turned his head to see Castiel exhale his own puff of smoke with an already glassy look, lost in the wave of blankets in front of him. They had lost everything and the only thing they had left was to hope to feel from time to time. Soon, the muscles relaxed one by one until no one was able to get up, even if they wanted to. Dean was sure that if someone popped up and shot them right away, he wouldn’t move an inch. And as sordid as that sounds, he loved it. He was in full ecstasy, watching the thick white smoke swirling before him with an absent fascination, his gaze being lost in emptiness. Dean was now struggling to coordinate his actions and bringing that cigarette to his mouth was the only movement he could still do somewhat properly.

It was finally starting to disappear. Pain, grief, despair, guilt… Instead, the face of the people he had once loved started to draw in front of him, in the smoke accumulating in the small space. He could see his beautiful mother like in the good old days making him an apple pie in the heat of their home. His father teaching him how to fish that day nearby a lake in 1988. His little brother sitting next to him in the Impala, smiling as they made their way to their next destination. He saw Bobby refilling a glass of alcohol in the kitchen of his house and he saw Castiel at his best, sharing a beer with him on the hood of his car as he contemplated the stars. While hovering in the seventh heaven, Dean imagined he could touch that dream with his fingers. 

The anguish no longer existed, this consuming fear of seeing his friends and family die had disappeared. No, nothing existed anymore because of this call to happiness that was lost in the smoke volutes around him. He wasn’t cold anymore, he felt good. Strangely, he felt himself smile, something he no longer remembered having done for years now. To his left, he simply hoped that Castiel would touch on the same euphoria as the one he was tasting, no matter how fake it might be. He just liked to wrap himself into this hallucinogenic state where drugs plunged him into, this kind of parallel universe where everything was going well and he was someone else. There, he had a real reason to keep going.

That was all they had left.

* * * @winchester-reload

That’s the first time I write about Endverse!Dean and Castiel, let me know what you thought about it!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

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#suptober20 #endverse!dean #endverse!cas #2014 apocalypse #supernatural

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Help Wanted (chapter two)

Huge thanks again to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian! Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you can! 

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Chapters: 1 | 2

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Anyone who came into the Blooming Grove cafe and smelled the unmistakable scent of a freshly baked cherry and strawberry pie would probably think that was nothing but a positive. That the busy chef must have been in a particularly good mood, to fill the small space with such a fresh, sugary and all round lovely scent.

Beau knew better however.

She hadn’t puzzled out the reason why but she knew that cherry and strawberry pie was something Caduceus only made when he was stressed out. She’d smelled it a lot during his shaky first few months, when no one was really sure if the cafe had a future, before people realised the special kind of magic Caduceus imbibed it with that made people feel so at home when they were inside it’s walls. She also smelled it whenever Cad came into work holding a letter, always the same paper, always the same handwriting though she could never make out any words.

And she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a snoop. She just didn’t miss much.

Though she was pretty sure it had something to do with the very large family Cad would talk about often but whom she never saw visiting or calling or anything. Just those letters, one every few months, that would send Cad into a stress baking haze churning out pies but he’d keep it in his apron pocket like he was scared to let it out of his sight.

But today there was no mystery to why there was suddenly a slice of thick, red oozing delightfulness being set in front of her, dusted with sugar with fruit like shiny garnets. It was because of Fjord.

Beau smirked and dug in with her fork, watching Cad zip back and forth across the cafe like an anxious bee. It was just him and her in the cafe right now, it didn’t open for another two hours. Lucky she woke up so early to do her tai chi in the park with her girl. Well, one of her girls. Getting Jester out of bed before ten was a triumph, Yasha was much easier to coerce.

“If you clean up before he gets here, your new assistant ain't going to have anything to do,” she pointed out, around a mouthful of fruit and sugar.

Caduceus jumped guiltily, “I’m just...just doing odds and ends. I want to be able to show him around.”

Beau wasn’t sure how true that was. Everything about Cad except his words showed how unsettled he still was with the idea of being a two person team.

She rolled her eyes and jabbed her fork at him for emphasis, “Look, we know this place is your baby. We know what it means to you. So we absolutely would not have suggested Fjord if he wasn’t going to be perfect for the job! He’s obsessed with being competent, he’s chill with taking orders, he’s a people person, annoyingly organised, fuck this pie is really good, did you do something new?”

“Touch of balsamic vinegar,” Cad said absently, scratching at the little pink wisps of a beard that grew in when he didn’t trim it, “I’m not saying I don’t...he’s your friend so I want him to be my friend too, I’ve got every faith he’s a good guy but…”

“But you’re nervous,” Beau picks the words up for him, “And that’s fine. But you’re going to give this a shot, get used to it, see that it’s a great idea and everything will be fine. Seriously, I think you and Fjord will really get along.”

Cad’s ears flattened against his head and his eyes were big and doubtful, “I’m not so easy to get along with…”

Beau frowned at that, about to protest, when the bell above the door rang out, the door pushing back almost shyly, like it was scared into interrupt. And then there was Fjord, looking slightly more sunburnt and grizzled than he had the last time Beau saw him, dressed in the same ratty hoodie he used to have back in high school. His hair was in the same style, still short and shaved underneath, though part of it had turned white and he’d clearly not been cutting it while on that ship of his. Though he’d found the time to file his tusks down, they were barely visible.

“Hey man!” Beau jumped down and rushed to give him a quick hug and sock him in the arm, “Look who washed up ashore…”

Fjord laughed, aiming a punch in return that she dodged easily, “Well you’ve not changed at all. Such a shame. And this must be Caduceus…”

Beau turned to make her introductions and explain why the scruffy salt smelling individual was the hard worker she’d promised when Cad’s face stopped her. His ears were bolt upright now, jaw a little slack, a very obvious blush even under his grey fur. And his tail was whipping from side to side at a million miles per hour.

Beau smirked, pleasantly surprised. This was starting to look like a two birds, one stone situation.

“Yeah, it is. Fjord, meet Mister Caduceus Clay.”

You’re acting like a teenager.

Cad had told himself that half a hundred times in the last hour and it wasn’t doing any good. His heart was still going like a Madagascan sunset moth finding a grove of Omphalea plants, his face was ridiculously warm and he was going to have to tuck his tail into his dungarees if it didn’t stop or he was going to break a mug.

Yes, Fjord was handsome. Almost ridiculously so. Now he’d acknowledged that, he could move on and refocus on the extreme anxiety he’d been nursing since yesterday that his cafe was going to collapse and he’d broken all his promises to himself and he’d have to go back home with his tail between his legs. That, at least, had been productive.

“Okay, so this is where I keep all the flours,” he continued, showing the half orc around the kitchen, “I, um...I haven’t labelled any of them because I just had them memorised, I’ll fix that…and I’ll have to write down the recipes they go with too, I just memorised those as well…”

Fjord seemed a little alarmed, “Um...yeah, that would help, I think.”

“Have you ever baked before?” Cad asked, leaning against the stainless steel surface, nicked and scaped by years of use.

Fjord sucked on his lower lip, “Well, I know how to make ship rations taste semi okay? But I don’t think that counts as baking.”

Cad had to chuckle, “No but it does sound like a useful life skill. I’m kind of aiming for a higher caliber than ships rations around here.”

“I’ll say, that pie Beau was eating looked to die for.”

Cad felt his ears pick up, “Oh would you like some? I made, um...five this morning. No reason, I just felt like it.”

He was already moving before Fjord could answer, putting a slice on a nice plate, plenty of cream. His new assistant did look distinctly skinny, like he hadn’t been eating properly. They’d need to sort that out.

Fjord seemed bemused at the sudden appearance of a dessert, smiling crookedly, “Thanks! Looks really good.”

“So maybe I’ll focus on the food prep for a little while and you can handle the front of house until you get more comfortable in the kitchen,” Cad tried not to look like he was hovering, waiting eagerly for Fjord’s reaction to his food.

He wasn’t disappointed. Fjord’s eyes widened and he grinned, showing a pair of filed tusks Cad hadn’t noticed before.

“Wow! This is amazing!” he had the most lovely accent, from somewhere in the South, twanging and drawling in places, wandering like a hard to follow path, “I must say, I’ve never eaten anything as nice as that!”

You’re acting like a smitten teenager, stop it. Stop blushing!

“I don’t know about that,” he cleared his throat, tangling his hands in the strings of his apron, “But you’re very kind to say so.”

“I think I’m gonna like working here,” Fjords’ grin was lopsided and full of cheek, just as a dashing pirate’s would be. Then suddenly it faltered, like a curtain had ruffled in the breeze and revealed something completely different, scenery turning out to be nothing but a backdrop on a stage, “I mean, if you’re going to hire me.”

Cad found himself smiling, something stirring in his chest, something separate to the silly crush that had landed so suddenly in his lap, “Any friend of the Nein is my friend too. And I think I’d quite like to work with a friend.”

Fjord tilted his head to one side, looking delighted, “Y’know, that sounds mighty fine to me too.”

Cad’s fur puffed up around his neck, like it did when he was happy. Or startled.

“Yes! Okay, I’ll take you through the plant care schedule. That’s probably the most important thing.”

Fjord looked like he didn’t understand, eyes drifting over all of the greenery in the place. Even in the kitchen there were succulents in the window, the ivy running through the ceiling and the myriad of fresh vegetables and herbs in the greenhouse out the back door that Cad had managed to cram in their tiny courtyard (with a little magic assistance).

“Plant care? Don’t you just...water them?”

Cad started at him for a heartbeat then burst out laughing, Fjord’s expression only getting more confused.

He was going to enjoy it. But it was going to be hard work.

They were halfway through their first day as a two man operation and things were going rather well, as Cad was sternly telling whatever flickers of anxiety still flitted in his chest.

He was in the kitchen, gloves of flour and water pasted up to his elbows, rolling out rough into podgy rectangles. His ears flickered and tail swayed in time with the music, but his ears were listening to something else. Fjord’s voice, still a little jarring to hear when he wasn’t used to it, out at the counter, taking orders and calling them out. He flirted shamelessly, he charmed, he joked and laughed. Beau had been right, he was a people person. Cad had no doubt the tip jar would be bursting at the seams when he next checked it.

“Hey, Caddy!”

Cad turned from his dough to see Fjord in the doorway. His spare apron was clearly too big for the half orc, nearly touching the floor, but he hadn’t had time to make one for him. Tomorrow, he’d do it, now he knew his size.

Even so, with a cloth poking out from the pocket and a pad of paper in his hand and a little pencil behind his ear, Fjord almost looked like he belonged.

“This nice lady’s asking for chamomile and apple tea,” he called over the chatter from the customers beyond, “Whereabouts would that be?”

Cad gave an apologetic smile. Another thing that was apparently unlabelled were the nearly hundreds of tea tins that sat in haphazard rows, making the place look like an apothecary. Something else he needed to do. And maybe he’d actually have the time to now.

“Third shelf down, fourth tin from the left,” Cad closed his eyes to picture it, just to make sure he got it right. Some of the things in those tins were more...experimental blends. He couldn’t imagine them going down very well.

“Gotcha,” Fjord flashed him that grin again, “Thanks Captain.”

“I told you, you don’t have to call me that,” Cad called after him, laughing.

You really, really need to stop.

But the strange thing was, the voice was getting quieter every time. Part of Cad was wondering why he had to stop at all. Wasn’t this part of the reason he’d left the grove- the actual grove? He’d wanted freedom, to see how it felt to be Caduceus rather than just a Clay. He’d wanted some control over his own life and choices.

Maybe there were some choices he hadn’t even known he’d get. Possibilities he hadn’t considered.

Now Cad was smiling as he rolled out his squares of focaccia, ready to sprinkle with cracked pepper and salt and herbs. He’d make an extra for Fjord to take home, maybe he’d like that. Suddenly he wanted to know everything about him, his tastes and likes and dislikes, what he did in his spare time, what he looked like just out of bed.

He was definitely acting like a smitten teenager in the spring. But he didn’t think that was such a bad thing now.

The rest of the day went alright. There were bumps in the road, of course. A tray of croissants got burned when Fjord lost track of himself bussing tables but he was incredibly apologetic and offered to remake them. Not that he had the first clue how to shape them. But maybe Cad could show him?

But it had been an incredibly busy day of rare sunshine and clear skies and Cad didn’t feel like he was running on empty at the end of it. That was certainly a success of some sort.

Members of the Nein had been coming in ones and twos all day to yell in delight at the sight of Fjord, home again. It was nice to see, a missing piece coming back to where it was supposed to be, fitting in like it had never been away. It sat a little melancholic in Cad’s chest, for a reason he was very aware of but didn’t want to think about so he’d pretend he didn’t know. But then he’d get swept up in it, Jester or Molly or Veth bringing him over to share in the happiness and he would feel so much better.

Those had been bright spots in the constant tide of conversation that flowed through the Grove. And now Caduceus was wiping down the surfaces in the kitchen, Fjord out front handling the last of the customers, mostly people swinging by to pick up something for their dinners. The light was heady and orange again, all the light and none of the warmth as the end of the day brought cooler breezes than before, chasing away the lingering heat.

And Cad’s ears picked up again as the conversation changed, as Fjord’s voice changed from the customer service voice he’d easily slipped on that morning. And Cad followed eagerly, only realising when he got to the doorway of the kitchen that there were no members of the Nein left to come see Fjord.

Instead there was an elven woman behind the counter, immediately stunning in appearance with her fountain of red curls, impressive even with them tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. Standing there she seemed so sure, effortless, her posture somehow arrogant and challenging. She was dressed in sea colours, a long scarf wound once round her neck and loosely draped over her shoulders like a snake and her hat would have been ridiculous on anyone else who didn’t wear it with such simple confidence.

Cad’s ears picked up at their continued conversation, Fjord speaking. From behind, he seemed tense, like something had set him on guard.

‘You don’t have to be a jerk, Avantika,” Fjord was saying, “I actually had a really good day. I think I like working here.”

“Well,” the elf’s voice was liquid gold, her accent very different from Fjord’s, “It’ll do. We’ll get you back on the waves soon, dear. No need to convince yourself.”

“I’m not…” Fjord’s voice hardened but then he seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, letting go, “I’m going to close up then I’ll be back at your place. Thanks again for...for letting me stay.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, dear,” the woman seemed to always have other words lurking behind the one’s she spoke, “Don’t be too late. I’m not in the mood to wait up.”

“Right,” his reply was short and clipped, still in the tone of not wanting a fight.

And then he leaned forward, over the counter, and kissed her. Not a long kiss and Fjord’s shoulders stayed tense but there it was. And Cad fled back into the kitchen.

“Remember, don’t be late,” he heard her reply and the click of boots on the wooden bloor, the bell ringing out her departure.

Fjord came in a little while later, apparently not noticing that Cad had been wiping down the same four workbenches for nearly fifty minutes.

“Okay, that’s eight,” he said brightly, like the exchange had never happened, “Gonna teach me how to clear up?”

Cad looked up, his smile thin and tired, “You know, I think I’ve filled your head with enough today. We can cover that tomorrow, why don’t you head out early. I can take care of things here.”

Fjord paused, looking a little dismayed, “I mean...if you’re sure? I really don’t mind.”

Cad cut across his gentle protest before he could talk himself into staying, “It’s only your first day. I’m not looking to scare you off already. Go on, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Fjord blinked, nodding slowly, “Right. Okay...um, thanks, Cad.”

Cad gave a nod and a non committal wave, turning back to his work.

“I really mean it,” Fjord unwound the ties of his apron, tied in the front just the way Cad had shown him, “I had a great day today and I learned a lot. Thank you.”

Cad made himself look up, really look at Fjord, standing in his kitchen doorway, flour on his sleeves and hair pushed back awkwardly with a bandanna. And he smiled, softer this time.

“You’re welcome, Fjord. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Looking happier, Fjord grabbed the bag he’d come in with and gave him a wave, heading out. And Cad still watched, still smiled. And he felt like an idiot.

I told you so.

#teahaw #fjorclay #pining #coffee shop au #slow burn #modern au #critical role #cr: fjord #cr: caduceus

[realactualfancontent]

Wilbur Whateley Goes Shopping Part 2.

While he’s still in London Wilbur goes Solstice shopping.

Wilbur Whateley did not belong here. Slinking through an overcrowded department store where even his unusual stature and the stench that clung to him weren't enough to keep him safe from being jostled by over zealous holiday shoppers. He jumped every time, fussing to see that none of his wardrobe had been disrupted. Looking around over the crowds heads to see if there was any quiet spot he could try to observe from. Figure out where he was going. What exactly he was here for. It was as if the whole city had been funnelled in here. How was no one else overwhelmed? How was no one else overwhelmed by the sheer quantity. Someone jostled him especially hard and Wilbur hurled a few choice words in their direction loud enough that the immediate crowd paused a moment to stare before getting back on with their errands. The offending party scurried away without so much as an apology. Though the look of terror on their face served as one. Even if he felt a little embarrassed now. He just, didn't do well around people. Not that it mattered, they'd all be gone soon. He could only hope that there were less old ones, or that they had a better grasp on personal space. But he was determined to make this trip worth something. After that disaster at the book store he wanted to come back with something. And Dunwich's single general store was beyond limited when it came to luxury goods. So here he was, scraggly, unkempt and absolutely freezing in place when anyone so much as brushed against him. Eventually, after what seemed like eons he made it to a counter and stared down a perfectly quaffed and dressed shop attendant. Who looked up at him with wide frightened eyes. “Can I help you?” She asked timidly. He gulped, fighting down a sudden wave of embaressment at the garbled excuse for English that was about to come out of his mouth.

“Yeah-yes.”

She looked like she'd rather do anything but, she looked like she wanted to call security. Wilbur soldiered on trying to downplay his accent. “I'm shoppin' fer my ma.”

That made her relax a little. As if anyone buying Christmas gifts for their mother couldn't be entirely terrible. She was wrong of course.

“An' my younger brother.” He added hastily, seeing as laying on the sentiments seemed like a good plan.

Humans and their sentiment.

Not that he was much better. He just acknowledged it was stupid.

“Oh, well then, what sort of gifts are you looking for?” She asked brightly, giving him an appraising once over, now that the initial fear seemed to have worn off he could tell she was trying to size up how much he could spend.

“'Spensive ones.” Wilbur answered, there was something distinctly unpleasant in the smile that accompanied that. 

He couldn't help it. There was something distinctly unpleasant in most of his expressions. But he did love the rare chance to wave his money in people's faces. The look of scepticism and shock on her face was priceless. The absolute disbelief when he pulled out a wallet from the tenebrous pockets of his shapeless coat and discreetly opened it to flash the woman it's contents was almost worth the trip. “I see,” she said looking between the over stuffed wallet and Wilbur's ungroomed face, managing to set aside any misgivings he gave her and settle back into her blandly polite default mode. “I'm afraid you'll have to be slightly more specific, as we do carry a wide range of luxury items, any of which would make lovely gifts.” Wilbur rolled his eyes in response, and let out a deep sigh, so irritable you'd think someone had asked him to set his foot on fire. “Dunno, what dew women like?” It was a genuine question. What the fuck did he get for Lavinia? Clothes? Jewellery? Not shoes that was for damn sure. “Oh, well, if you'd like I can show you around the accessories section and point out some of our more popular items?” “Yeah, that'd be good.” “Alright, follow me then.” She slipped out from behind the counter and led Wilbur around the shop. He was grateful for the assistance, even if he didn't fancy following someone around like a lost dog it was better than milling around poking things aimlessly. He ended up with an armful of things. Perfume (which didn't smell all that good to him, but he was assured it was lovely, and much subtler once it settled on to the skin.), A hat with a bunch of flowers (Lavinia liked flowers, he wasn't to sure about hats.) And an armful of assorted fripperies and frills all floaty and lacy. Grossly impractical, he hadn't the faintest idea when she'd every get the chance to wear things like this. But he'd seen her ogling similar things in a magazine once or twice, and she was very fond of some of the gauzier curtains in the house. Even if they all had moth holes. “Do you think that's enough?” His shop attendant asked looking up, craning her neck to see over the stack of gifts. “Uh, think so, one 'er two more things. I we-was thinkin' I might get her sum 've those tinted glasses...An' a sewin' machine. One 've the treadle 'uns.” In truth the sewing machine was for Wilbur, who's continued growth spurts meant he was spending an enormous time trying to stitch together his own clothes. Hopefully this would speed things along. “Oh I know where both of those are, just follow me.” Wilbur did, staggering after her, carrying his precarious load. “Would you like us to gift wrap those for you?” Wilbur had to peer down and around to see her. “Yeah, that'd be...good.” “Okay, I think, just put them down here.” Wilbur did, dropping the whole stack on the table. Trying to pick up the sewing machine had been a mistake. People always assumed that his size came with strength to match, but after only a few moments his arms felt like jelly. “And you said you're also shopping for your brother?” His assistant was currently wrapping a hat box in a garishly bright paper covered in pictures of stockings and cats. Tying ribbon into bows it seemed almost a crime to tear it apart later. Wilbur had an overwhelming feeling He'd be seeing the same piece of wrapping paper for the rest of his natural life, trundled out at every birthday and solstice until it disintegrated or his pa's friends destroyed the world. "Ah, yeah...he's lookin fe-for a..." Wilbur trialled off here knowing exactly what he needed to say but not quite able to get the word out. "Dog." He finally spat. His volume dropping to barely above a whisper, as if mentioning the word might summon ten. She looked up at him puzzled. "Sir, we're not a pet sho-"

"I know that." He snapped back. "He can't have a real 'un." There was a note of actual panic in that last sentence, his assistant flinched at the sudden snapping. Pausing mid ribbon bow, she was about to apologize for speaking out of turn but Wilbur continued. "I'm allergic, is the thing. So I thought I'd get 'im one of those toy one's, yew know, with the leash an' the wheels. Just, needs t' be a real big one." She nodded at the explanation.

"Well I'm certain we have something close in the toy department. It's just upstairs. You can pick up your packages when you're done."

As much as he hadn't been particularly offensive as a customer she really was glad to be rid of him. She couldn’t place what about those goatish features made her so uncomfortable, but something definitely did.  She very quickly turned her attention back to the shawl she was packing to avoid studying them further.

"Uh, yeah, thanks." Wilbur said. Excusing himself to trundle upstairs. He got lost on the way of course. Anyone who's spent signifiant time in a department store can understand exactly how easy that is, although in retrospect Wilbur could have followed the cacodaemoniacal shrieks of small children and found it quickly enough.

Something small and fast blundered into his legs he jumped, it let out a high-pitched shriek of terror when it looked up to see who it had collided with. Wilbur was sneering down at the kid. Some other parents pulled their children closer to them.

Typical.

Some other brat blew a raspberry at him. In Dunwich at least people knew to give him a wide berth. That trying that sort of thing was a good way to get your crops blighted. He ignored them to instead move as quick as he could to the desk. Calling the clerk's attention with startling ease despite the crowd. Being over a foot taller than the masses had some advantages. At least here he had some clear goal. It made everything so much easier. Knowing what you were here for. "...Just bring me the biggest 'un yew've got." He finished explaining to the desk clerk, before she scurried off. Leaving Wilbur to mill about and wait, unable to help himself from pulling a face or two at the small children who tried the same with him. Or chuckling when one of them started crying. A thoroughly inhuman noise which drew even more strange looks. That brief good mood vanished when he saw the plush Great Dane. "Is this big enough?" Wilbur nodded suddenly sheepish. "It'll dew." He picked it up under one arm, glad it was lighter than the sewing machine, still awkward though. He ended up buying a wagon too. Something to haul the rest around in. And then he was done.

Well, technically there was one thing left on the gift list. But that wasn't found in any department store. He toyed with buying a wedding gift for Pickman as he loaded up the rest of his stuff. But decided against it. They weren't friends. And if he had to spend another minute in this crowded hell scape he might scream. So, with a gigantic plush dog under one arm, and a wagon loaded with prettily wrapped parcels, Wilbur Whateley headed out, to the graveyard, and after that, finally, back to Dunwich.

#Fanfic #Wilbur Whateley #Lavinia Whateley #Pickman #The Dunwich Horror #H.P. Lovecraft

[vgckwb]

ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 81: Of Monsters and Men!/Superbug (The Battle for Paris, Part 1)

A cloud of darkness had descended upon Paris. At the center of it was a being who was entirely purple, masculine, had wings, antennae, grizzly sharp teeth, and void pupil-less eyes. Their fingers were clawed. He looked around. He noticed that he was being filmed.

“Heh heh” he laughed. “Greetings Paris” he said to his audience. “I’ve been waiting for a long time. Watching. Doing nothing but observing without the power to do anything. But finally, I am free! And now I shall conquer.

Ah. Forgive my manners. My name is Nurushwa. I am a kwami. A kwami labeled evil by some. A label I don’t hate. I’ll be blunt with you all. I wish to take over, and once I do, I will free my captive brothers and sisters also deemed evil. This can be as painless or painful as necessary. I don’t mind either way, but my personal preference is painful.” Nurushwa laughed.

Meanwhile, all the heroes and Hawk Moth were watching this unfold on their devices. “Evil kwami?” Ladybug remarked.

She got a call and took it, while also keeping an eye on Nurushwa. It was Sting. “Ladybug! Web-Spinner and I are converging on your position! Have every hero do the same!”

“What’s going on?” Ladybug asked.

“That thing is an evil kwami!” Sting replied. “It’s apparently a powerful creature that’s been locked away for quite some time!”

“How did it get out?” Ladybug asked.

“It takes three things to unleash it!” Sting explained. “A close proximity to the area in which they are locked, an affinity to miraculous energy, and overwhelming negative emotion! Someone MUST have found them!”

“But who?” Ladybug asked.

Nurushwa was still laughing when he started gagging a little bit. Suddenly and viscerally out of his mouth pops the head and torso of Lila. She takes a few breaths. “Paris! I am sorry! I don’t deserve your kindness! I lied! About everything! Truly, I am a terrible person! But please! Stop this monster! And if you could find it in your heart! Save me as well!”

“Well that answers that” Ladybug said.

Nurushwa used one of his arms to push Lila back in. “A feisty one.” He turned his attention back to the cameras. “Enough dilly-dallying! Now my pretties, DESCEND!” The dark cloud broke up. It turns out, they were a cloud of akumas. They rapidly descended on the city, engulfing the citizenry one by one. However, instead of any unique villains, they turned into beings that looked similar to Nurushwa.

Meanwhile, Lila was inside Nurushwa, fearing for her life. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you everything you’ve wanted. Power. Friends. Control.”

“I don’t care about that anymore!” Lila said, sobbing.

“Oh, but it isn’t a choice,” Nurushwa told her. “There’s just one thing I’m asking in return.”

“What?!’ Lila hissed.

“Your humanity” Nurushwa answered.

Lila started to feel her body start to fade away. “What are you doing to me?!”

“Heh heh” Nurushwa laughed. “I’m simply turning you into one of us.” Lila was even more scared. “Ah. You have the soul of a fox kwami. Trickstern would love a new playmate.” He laughed as Lila was struggling while her body was slowly turning into a kwami like him.

Within a matter of minutes, all of the heroes had met up with Ladybug and everyone else. “What do we do?!” Honey Bee asked. “There’s a crazy, maniacal...thing, and it has Lila!”

“AND it’s taking the rest of the city” Chienne Reaction pointed out.

Hawk Moth turned to face Adrien. “Adrien! Get out of here! Go to our house! You should be safe!”

Adrien looked at Hawk Moth. He smiled and sighed. “Sorry, but I can’t.” Hawk Moth was confused. “Plagg! Claws out!” he turned into Cat Noir.

Hawk Moth was surprised. But he shook himself out of it. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we need to deal with Nurushwa!”

“So, you’re willing to help out old man?” Carapace asked.

Hawk Moth glared at him. “I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m no angel. But today, I’d like to be on their side. I’ll do anything I can to help.”

Ladybug looked up at Nurushwa. “Well, Sting said that they need a person. What if we try to free Lila from him?”

“It’s a good idea” Rooster Gold started.

Bleat Star came in. “But I don’t think he’d let us get close to him!”

“Even with all of us, he’s creating an army as we speak!” Hog Wild reminded her.

Ladybug thought. She looked at Chienne Reaction and Hawk Moth. “That’s it! We need to power up! Chienne Reaction! Power up Hawk Moth! Once he’s powered up, he can bestow more power unto us! Once we have that power, we could take the fight to him more easily!”

“Plus, we could save people, and have Hawk Moth give them powers as well” Cat Noir said jumping in.

“Right!” Ladybug said. “Are you up for it?”

Chienne reaction thought. “While I don’t LIKE supporting Hawk Moth, I think it’s our only option.” She breathed out. “Here goes. Kiss of Luck!” She powered up Hawk Moth.

“Thank you,” Hawk Moth said. Butterflies surrounded him. “As a reward, here you go” he powered up a butterfly and infused it with Chienne Reaction’s miraculous. She transformed so that she was a bit taller, a bit stronger, the color of her costume was a bit darker, and she had three heads. “Cerberus. Once I give everyone else a Tenshi, I want you to power them up further. Can you do that?” Cerberus nodded. “Excellent. Now then, who’s next?” He created an army of tenshi, and one by one, they fused with the miraculous.

Bunnyx gained a light blue helmet with the bunny ears still attached, light blue elbow pads and knee pads, and was now floating on a giant chromatic light blue pocket watch. “Time Hopper!”

Viperion’s arms and legs got covered in different bangles, but the original one was still distinct. He also had a headband, which lifted his hair a little bit, a belt, and a metal mask going across his mouth, all of which were similar to his bangle. “Viperidae!”

Pegasus grew longer dreads, and they were no longer tied up. His shoes were edged with a bit of metal. Additionally, he had two black spots on the palms of his hand. Aside from that, he was made a little taller, and a little stronger. “Wyld Stallyn!”

Tigress’s stripes were made bolder, and more jagged. Her hair was let down, but more frizzed. She also grew nail-like claws of different colors on each one. “Neon Tigress!”

King Monkey gained a golden light around him, as well as a cloud-like essence coming off of his gloves, footwear, and tail. “Wukong!”

Ryuko’s face was enveloped with a dragon mask which kept the horns. Ryuko’s eyes peered through the nostrils, while the eyes on the dragon head were white, but reverberated an energy to them. Additionally, all of the black on Ryuko’s costume, aside from the seal, turned to that same white color as the eyes, and was also radiating energy. “Ryukyu!”

Hog Wild’s shoulder pads grew hair-like thistles. The tusk design on her respirator grew out into actual tusks. And her hair stood on end, with a line of pink going down the middle. “War Hog!”

Rooster Gold’s feet grew three talons. His hair grew a little bit longer. His crossbow became bigger, and he was also surrounded by two rings of feathers which made him look like an atom molecule. “Thundercluck!”

Scouries grew little tufts of hair on her suit to make her look more mangy, and her natural hair followed suit. Her torso was adorned with a multiplication sign with the number 1 in the middle of it. She gained longer mask ties, and she was also given a small, floating monitor. “Miss Souriesous!”

BleatStar’s horns grew in size. The suit’s black feet and hands turned gold to reflect the color of the bell. His hair was let down, leaving it a bit messy, and he had a lightning strike design going across his face. “Abaaaddin Sane!”

Each section of Oxenfree’s costume was given a little scale which read out how hard or soft he is. At the moment, all of the needles were in the middle. “Kiloxenfree!”

Paonne Ange gained two sets of deep blue wings; one set on her upper back, and one on her lower. Her domino mask gained a vertical rectangle in the middle of it. “Paonne Archange!”

Sting’s arms grew pincers that acted as gauntlets around his fists. His tail grew bigger, and his stinger grew sharper. “Heraculeaus!”

Web Spinner’s fangs became more pronounced. Her costume grew four legs that could hold her up. She also gained an hourglass insignia on her chest and back. “Web Weaver!”

Honey Bee’s decorative wings became real, and her honey colored gloves felt like they were made of tangible honey. Also, her hair was let down, and she had two more streaks going through it, one black, one honey colored. “Honey Queen!”

Carapace gained giant, shell-shaped knee pads, elbow pads, and shoulder pads, as well as a face scarf that covered the lower half of his face. “Murtle!”

Rena Rouge’s hair was let out of its ponytail, and the little tails in her hair stood on end. The black sections on her arms and legs gained orange lines that followed the skeletal structure of those areas. “Rintails!”

The hood of Judgement Wolf’s cloak was made more wolf-like. His cloak was now fully open, and his torso was adorned with three gray claw marks. He also gained claw-like nails on all fingers, except the one the miraculous resided on. “Lupus Judgement!”

Cat Noir’s entire body came to look like a black mist, but you can still see a tangible shape. Also, his claws were more pronounced. “Ultra Noir!”

Finally, Ladybug’s outfit changed so that she was white with red spots, instead of red with black spots. “Superbug!”

Cerberus powered up the tenshied heroes even further. Paonne Archange was next, as she brought back everyone’s sentimonster from a few days ago that had one. Heraculeaus got Golden Dragon back, and Web Weaver got a similar one called Jade Dragon. Paonne Archange also gave one to Hawk Moth; a humanoid figure who looked like Gabriel, except he was all white, with the exception of a red cross going across his chest, whom Paonne Archange dubbed “Healer.” Royal Guard came in and powered everyone up even further.

“Alright,” Superbug commanded, “I will go and confront Nurushwa directly and try and figure out a way to free Lila. While that’s going on, the rest of you are going to fight these akumas, save the people, and have Hawk Moth and Paonne Archange create more heroes and sentimonsters to aid us in that. Cerberus will continue to power people up as well. Are we ready?!” Everyone nodded. “Then let’s go!”  The heroes spread out from their position, while Hawk Moth stayed there to create more tenshi to spread around the citizenry.

Before they went off fully, Murtle stopped and pulled Wyld Stallyn  and Time Hopper aside. “Hold on” Murtle said. He created a barrier behind Hawk Moth that stretched across the remaining city on that side. “Nurushwa does not have anyone there!” Murtle explained. “Whoever we free, send them there.”

At that moment, a large group of people started appearing. Time Hopper shrugged. “I guess I already did.” Murtle nodded, shook his head, and the three of them left off.

While this plan came together fast, Nurushwa’s power was unlike anything they had seen, and he already amassed a powerful, sizable army to fight on his behalf. However, the process of turning Lila into a kwami was taking its time since Lila was his primary power source after being locked away for many years. “Why are you doing this?!” Lila asked.

“Because I can,” Nurushwa answered for his prisoner. “I have the power to exert dominance over others. The other kwamis go on and one about peace, and unity, and helping others. It’s disgusting. Once I have freed my like-minded brothers and sisters from the prisons those other kwamis made, we can finally subjugate these pathetic humans.”

Lila remained silent. She knew she couldn’t preach of the ideals he threw aside because she herself failed to live up to them herself. She realized she felt like she was doing what he was. “What, no comeback?” Nurushwa taunted. “Of course not. You’re just like me. And soon, that will fully be realized.”

Lila silently cried. I guess there really is no hope for someone like me.

There was an explosion. “What the?” Nurushwa sensed his army was taking several blows. “Grrrr. HOLD STRONG! WE’RE GOING TO TAKE CONTROL! NO BACKING DOWN!” he yelled at his army, to which they cheered. The army continued making advances.

Superbug was bee-lining it to Nurushwa, taking out what she could of his army, with Royal Guard doing a lot of the heavy lifting. Despite the fact that there were now tens of thousands, she was more confident than ever that her team, Hawk Moth, and the army he was conjuring up would handle them.

Ultra Noir was keeping close to Superbug, but focusing on the enemies rather than where she was going. His misty features made it hard for the enemies to hit him. Ultra Noir also found that he could create Cataclysms as big or as small as he wanted. He used it to destroy parts of buildings to land on Nurushwa’s unwilling minions, as well as destroy them outright, while keeping the humans inside safe. He continued his attack.

Meanwhile, his Sentimonster, Guardian Angel, flew close by; taking out Nurushwa’s army with their light powers and feather manipulation. They also had the ability to heal those who had been recently freed from Nurushwa’s control.

Lupus Judgement was going around freeing everyone he could with his powered up Reveal Claw. He only took out his sword when he needed to defend himself. Lucky for him, this was a rare instance because Firefighter was backing him up at every turn.

As Rintails was running, she saw Nurushwa’s akumas descending. She grabbed Murtle and said “I have an idea! I’ll lure them with fake people, and you capture them in little bubbles!”

“Sounds awesome!” Murtle. Rintails nodded and began phase one of her plan. The akumas took the bait, which allowed Murtle to do phase two. To protect them from danger, Composite Ladybug and Bubbleblast worked together to fight off any attackers.

Honey Queen was flying around the city. On top of her beebots immobilizing Nurushwa’s army, she could also shoot sticky honey from her gloves to make them stick to where they were. Following behind her was Pride Monster, who would swallow the akumatized people and spit them back out free of Nurushwa’s control.

Also taking to the skies was Paone Archange. She flew around granting people Sentimonsters. She would usually coordinate this with people being Tenshied by Hawk Moth to gain even more power. She would protect herself when needed, but she also received aid from Buzzstormer and Cerberus. Cerberus would also go around powering up the Tenshis to make them even stronger.

Time Hopper and Wyld Stallyn were working together to track and find anyone free from Nurushwa and time travel/teleport them to the area behind the defencive wall, while also taking care of anyone attacking them directly. MX-01, apart from being really good at taking out Nurushwa’s soldiers, was able to locate these people and relay that information to Speedstaker, who in turn would bring those people closer to Wyld Stallyn and Time Hopper. Time Hopper would invite people onto her watch-board and travel to the safe zone; instantly traveling back to take enemies by surprise. Wyld Stallyn would create portals for himself when the situation called for it, but he would also use the spots on his hands to make portals for others. His was his main way of getting people to the wall.

Viperidae launched chronospheres from each of his straps. Each Chronosphere covered a section of the city. He and Soundwave Rider would make their way through the city, battling the monsters. Every so often, each strap, at a different time, would reset everything in the chronosphere it had influence over, on the chance that things would go wrong in said Chronosphere. The heroes inside would be made aware so they could make adjustments.

Wukong would blast out disruptive objects to the minions, causing them to lose control. Valkyrie Archer would then use their arrows to pin the monsters. Both would attack together if the situation called for it.

Kiloxenfree was fighting the creature head on. Most of the time, he remained hard all around, since that made him practically invincible. However, if the situation called for it, he would go soft in some places; most notable whenever something was thrown at him, it would fly back at whoever threw it. Loveheart also helped with the offensive front.

Miss Souriesous was also fighting Nurushwa’s monsters, when one of them snuck up on her. However, another Miss Souriesous, at full size and with a number 2 on her X, attacked them. The two Miss Souriesouses smiled and nodded at each other. Miss Sourieous 1 looked at her monitor and saw that her plan of dividing and conquering was going well, with many Miss Souriesouses of differing sizes fighting these monsters all across Paris. Courificator helped by attacking these monsters, and providing transport to some of the smaller Miss Souriesouses.

Ryukyu was storming the area and fighting the Nurushwa army head on. Whenever she would call upon one of her weather powers, not only would the seal glow to the corresponding effect, but the eyes on the dragon mask would change color to match, as well as the sections on her costume that matched. This meant that not only could she change into the effect itself, but those parts would have the powers of said effect; making them really useful in combat. Aiding her was Oniposte, and their battle prowess alongside each other was astounding.

Neon Tigress was doing her best to remain calm. This is so that whenever she shot out a Reverb, the monsters around her would calm down as well. Because she was powered up, she could shoot out many reverbs at a time. Threadmaker would then tie them all up, and the two would continue to advance.

Wherever War Hog went, she would distort her surroundings before battle. She would do this during battle too, but doing it before allowed her to make the area to her liking, and it also gave Rebel Cat better opportunities for surprise attacks.

Thundercluck worked on keeping his distance and sniping the monsters with Down Strikes, while Pagemaster summoned as many drawings as it could to aid in the attack. Whenever one of Nurushwa’s monsters got close, they would touch one of the feathers circling Thundercluck and instantly fall asleep. This was helpful, as it allowed Thundercluck time to move when necessary.

Abaaaddin Sane notices that one he began harvesting feelings, they would continue to come to him. This gave him more than enough ammo to take down Nurushwa’s army in many creative ways. Following him was Multi-Bleat, who would often assist Abaaadin Sane with his takedowns.

Heraculeaus and Web Weaver were working together. Web Weaver would corner the monsters, alongside Golden Dragon and Jade Dragon, and the Heraculeaus would use his stinger to unlock the binds of the akumas to the people. Healer was not too far behind, and he would heal the citizenry after they were free, and protect them from getting akumatized again.

Nurushwa was furious that his minions were taking severe blows. “Well well, it looks like we’ll have another thing in common” Lila chuckled. “Losing to Ladybug.”

“Grrrr” huffed Nurushwa. “It’s not over yet! I’ll just have to keep making more! Soon, they’ll be so overwhelmed and overworked that they can’t help but fall!” Lila became worried.

However, as Nurushwa was gathering the energy to do this, he was interrupted. “HALT!” screamed Superbug. Nurushwa looked at her. She was staring at him intently. “LET LILA GO AND STOP THIS SIEGE ON PARIS! OR I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!”

Lila looked up. She could see what Nurushwa was seeing. She could believe her eyes. “Ladybug?”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #Marinette #adrien #gabriel #lila #alya #nino #Chloe #vlad #alix #Nathaniel #Marc #MAX #ivan #sabrina #mylene #rose #juleka #ondine #kagami #Luka #Kim

[notsappho-art]

Yours Alone

This is my first writing a short story that wasn’t for English class and that was just for myself. I am trying to use creative writing as a way to improve and expand my art, as a means of creating plots and improving my storytelling skills. Getting my mind into a place where I can see the whole picture and tell a story.

This was edited by my dear friend @tmos-time, thanks so much, you really improved it.

Feel free to leave any kind of feedback or critique, I’d love to hear your thoughts even if it’s just to say heck yea I love bees

Sometimes I think about the Old World and what it must’ve been like, things changed very suddenly a long time ago. It was generations ago, so it’s not like I know much about it, but I often find Old Things and make up stories about them. There are stories too, told by mothers to their children. They say things were smaller; animals and plants. Bees were the size of your thumb and flowers didn’t grow bigger than a hand. I don’t know if I believe those, it seems too far fetched. It’s fun to think about though, and I find myself thinking about it when I’m not thinking about collecting, or about her.

She also takes up many of my thoughts, especially when I’m away from her as I am off finding and collecting. I remember when we first met. I was alone a lot back then. My parents chose to live away from villages, instead deciding to travel on their own. I had never seen another person besides them until I was ten years old.

I had been wandering a bit too far from camp and came close to a village. That’s where I saw her. She was a ggirl about my age, but so completely different. Her skin was dark like rich soil and her hair was cut short,  close to her head. Very different compared to my pale complexion and shaggy hair I tied out of my face. She was so graceful as well, she was dancing and playing with a few other girls, her skirt flowing with her movement. And then she laughed, and  it was the most incredible thing I had ever heard; I was completely enthralled. I left before she saw me and went back to camp.

It would be a few more years until I would see her again. By then I had met many more people and visited quite a few villages, joining my parents as I was old enough to help collect. I had become very good at collecting; I could forage and hunt, and I knew what Old Things were useful or valuable. I would go out collecting in the wilds and bring things back to the villages to trade. I would always trade for things from the women, since I liked them a lot and they knew how to make things I couldn’t. They’ve been the ones who make all my clothes, salves, pockets, and various equipment.

I even remember the kind crone who took the body of the first moth I ever took down, turning it into an amazing cloak that I still wear to this day. It had been quite a day when I came across the huge moth; I don’t hunt much, but moth pelts are so soft and durable, and the meat is amazing too. The auntie took the moth and, in exchange for some of the meat, offered to make my cloak. They made some very delicious stew from it.

After a few years of collecting and trading I found myself back at the village where I first saw her. I was still fairly young—  maybe fourteen, it’s hard to remember exactly— but I was mostly living on my own by then. I did my usual routine, going to the houses and talking to mothers and grandmothers, trading, getting to know people. That was my favourite part of collecting, talking to people.

Afterwards, I went to the market. It was a delight to find that this village was big enough to hold one, since  a marketplace is a great place to trade both wares and gossip. I headed to the marketplace, and that’s where I saw her. I had almost forgotten her, just barely escaping my memory. She had a stall selling flowers and herbs with her mother, in exchange for things like eggs or soap, and Old Things on occasion. I didn’t particularly need flowers or herbs, but I knew I needed to talk to her. I traded some Old Things for some dried chamomile; I could make into a pain relieving tea that I estimated would come in handy around the new moon .

Even after those years, she was still stunning. Her hair was longer and  resembled a cloud. Mine was still tied up, but I had gotten an undercut for the summer. We talked and I told her about some of my things and where I had gotten them. When I somehow made her laugh I felt my legs turn into pudding. Eventually I had to go, and while that was disappointing I knew that I had work to do, given there’s never been many collectors in the area. She said she wanted to see me again and that she hoped it was soon. My heart swelled.

I came back sooner than I usually would, just to see her. I cannot describe the way she lit up when she saw me, with a smile so bright I almost couldn’t look at her. She was so glad I came back, saying she was hoping I’d be back so she could hear the stories of my adventures once again. She loved them, even if they didn’t seem all that exciting to me; there were no tales of me epically slaying beasts with my big strong muscles, save for that one moth that I had turned into my dear cloak. It simply wasn’t really my style to resort to pure muscles alone, which I do in fact have, thank you very much. No, most of my stories were just me foraging in far away places and places people simply didn’t like.  Some of those scavenging trips were through Old World ruins for Old Things. All of the Useful Things are easy to trade, and I particularly like the Interesting Things you can find; buttons, jewelry, pictures, and any other strange items that I think are neat. I told her some of the stories I made up for them, of the people that used to own them and the world they came from. She laughed at the idea of tiny bees. Not even the larva of a bee is small enough to fit on a finger, much less an actual bee.

As time went on I came back more often, and she knew when I would come and would wait for me. We spent more and more time together, and I would bring her things I would find. In turn she would cook for me and give me a place to stay. The years went on and I knew I was hers, though I don’t think she’s mine. She has so many people who love her. I, on the other hand,  didn’t have much family to begin with, and when my parents passed away she was there for me.

That night I cried in her arms and became someone only for her. I think I was hers alone for a long time, since the first time I saw her smile.

I’m on my way back to see her now. I’ve been away longer than usual; I knew that before I left. As I’m approaching the village, the familiar smell of wildflowers and chimney smoke wafts through the air, filling my lungs. It’s getting late with the sun is just past the horizon. I can see her now, and as she calls my name on the outskirts of the town  I’m already home.

“ You were gone such a long time this time around,” she says to me. “Are you tired? I’ve run a bath if you want to join me.”

I can feel the swell of emotions trying to well up behind my eyes. She means so much to me, from her laugh, to her personality, to her hands I take in my own. “You know I’m yours alone, right?”

She smiles like a sunbeam. “Of course. And I am only yours.”

#short story #short fiction #wlw #wlw soft #wlw story #post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #but its soft tho #soft

[detectivejigsawpines]

The Most Hideous Creatures Known to Man, part 1 (A three-hour tour)

Stan continues to find his calling.  Unfortunately, not everyone agrees with his methods...

Part 5 of the Flipside AU.

It was only a matter of time before Stan’s clientele in the forest (he’d set up in a glen near C-beth’s place as his unofficial barber shop) began expressing curiosity about the human world.

For all the myths and legends about the amount of time they were supposed to spend kidnapping children, seducing adults, casting spells on farmers’ crops and so on, the creatures in Gravity Falls had surprisingly little direct interaction with humans.  Even the gnomes were mostly limited to stealing food from their cupboards or window sills while they were sleeping, except when they were trying to find an offering for their queen (both of the Pineses had made it adequately clear to the little group they found sneaking into their Ford’s house one night that they were not available, thank you anyway).

Stan wasn’t sure if this ignorance was the case for anomalies all over the world or just the ones in this tiny part of it.  But as he cut their hair, cleaned and polished their scales and massaged their shoulders, they began peppering him with questions about what it was like for human people.

“How do you get anywhere without wings?”

“What’s it like not having gills?”

“Where do the magic lights in your houses come from?  Do you have a wizard who controls all of them? You have a lot of them, so he must be ever so powerful.”

“What is the significance of those strange boxes humans hold up to their ears sometimes?  They can stand and talk to them for hours-are they some kind of listening insects, since they have those long antennae attaching them to the bigger boxes?”

He answered their questions as best he could, making educated guesses (or maybe kind-of-sort-of flat-out lying) if he didn’t know the answers...but after a while he realized that it didn’t seem to matter what he told them, as long as he made it sound exciting.  The creatures ate it all up in delight, amazed at the way humans seemed to use this strange kind of magic called SCIENCE to make things happen.

And just like with the idea for how to get unicorn hair for his brother, an idea began to spark in Stan’s brain.

“So, let me get this straight,” Stan said one afternoon as he finished putting curlers in a beard cub’s fur, “None of you have actually seen a human up close besides me?”

“And that brother of yours,” C-beth whinnied, looking up from her copy of Whinny, Pray, Trot.  “And the occasional visitor to my glen, or hikers, or-”

“No no no, I mean, you’ve never seen humans in their natural habitat.”

The little group-unicorns, fairies, beard cubs, even a mermaid sitting in the nearby pool-all looked at him in sudden interest.

Stan grinned.  “What would you say if I offered to give you guys a guided tour?”

Of course, not all the creatures could afford to pay in gold and jewels, like the unicorns.  Those who couldn’t had to pay in other things, like samples: skin samples, hair samples, feather samples, tooth samples, any kind of samples they could spare.  Stan would bring them home for Ford to study, and he’d get dizzy with excitement over how he’d “been wanting to study this thing for ages, thank you Stanley!” and immediately run off to his lab to put it under a microscope or whatever.  It gave Stan a warm feeling in his gut, knowing that he’d given a valuable contribution to his brother’s research, and in the meantime he could use the treasure the unicorns gave him to handle other expenses, like the mortgage and groceries and stuff.

If it wasn’t samples, it was things like mushrooms, which he could then give to the gnomes in exchange for favors, or enchanted items, or whatever else could be used to set up an elaborate and profitable barter system.

It was like nothing Stan had ever imagined for himself, but somehow it all worked like a charm.  And now here was a perfect chance to make an addition to it.

If I tell Ford about this, he’s either gonna love it or hate it.

****

For the moment, Stan decided to keep it a secret from his brother.  At least until he got all the details worked out and stuff.

This required him first finding a map of Gravity Falls, and marking out places that seemed like the best “attractions.”  Then he had to think about how he was actually going to conduct these tours a) without any humans noticing, and b) without letting the group of nosy anomalies wander off and get into trouble, or (in some cases) cause trouble.

It took him the better part of a day to come up with a plan, which turned out to partially involve the, ahem, liberation of a very large golf cart from a nearby Santa’s Village, and a pound of jerky for the manotaurs in exchange for them tracking down the invisible wizard and bringing him to Stan so he could strike a deal with him.  To his major disappointment the wizard refused to give up the potion that turned him invisible, but he did lend Stan something that was in some ways even better: a few bottles of what he called “un-notice powder.” I hope I don’t need to explain its purpose.

Once he had these and a few other things thrown together, he was ready to take the first group on a wild tour of...the Human World!

“And on your left, you’ll see ‘Greasy’s Diner,’ home of the perpetually broken spinning pie trolley!”

“Oooohhhh!”  The various anomalies leaned so far to the side of the cart that Stan was worried they were going to tip them all over, staring goggle-eyed at the restaurant.  To prevent this, Stan hurriedly put the cart in park, and then, remembering what the gnomes were like, he slipped the keys into his jeans pocket.

“Twenty-I mean, two hundred gold pieces or the equivalent in samples to come in and get your picture taken with it!” he proclaimed, rushing over to the door and pushing it open.  He promptly had to jump out of the way to avoid being stampeded by the eager crowd.

Inside the diner, the guests looked up in bewilderment at the door, which appeared to have been pushed open by a sudden freak wind.  Susan Wentworth, the head waitress who worked there (and who was kinda cute, Stan had to admit), rushed over to close it, and Stan barely moved out of her way in time.

The tour group (ten gnomes, thirteen fairies of various sizes and colors, a Moth Man, the invisible wizard-who’d insisted on coming at a reduced price as recompense for his being manhandled and bullied so rudely, and Stan had decided not to argue with a man who could turn him into a frog if he got mad enough-a manotaur, and the mermaid, who the manotaur was carrying in a portable cooler filled with water) stared agape at the inside of the room, before hurrying over and taking turns being photographed in front of the pie trolley.  They also had fun prodding at the humans, swiping bites of food from their plates, and taking pictures of them pretending to squeeze their heads or whatever.

Stan watched the chaos with a smile, and took the opportunity to eat some blueberries off the top of a plate of pancakes belonging to that dumb Gleeful kid.

****

Their next stops were the town hall, the cemetery (where a few Category 2 ghosts tried to sneak on without paying, but were scared off by the silver mirrors Stan had strategically placed on the cart), the library, and the high school, before finally they stopped in front of an electronics store.

“Behold!”  Stan leaped out onto the sidewalk, arms spread wide.  The dramatic gesture was nearly ruined by a few teenagers who nearly walked right into him (because of course, they didn’t notice him), but he managed to dodge out of their path just in time.  “Ladies and gentlemen-I guess that includes most of you-”

The tour group laughed.

“-For today’s final attraction, I give you the most horrifying, dangerous, yet incredibly enticing invention of mankind yet: the Idiot Box!”  He gestured at the display of televisions in the front window, which were plugged in to different channels about news, sports, movies, and so on.

The anomalies gasped, staring at the images darting across the screens in transfixed amazement.  He could practically see their eyes turning into hypnotized spirals like in the movies.

“These fiendish devices control the minds of millions every day, encouraging them to buy things they don’t need, eat foods that aren’t good for them, and become emotionally invested in the lives of fictional characters who they are never gonna meet in real life!”  Stan had no idea where most of his words were coming from, but he was on a roll now, and there was no stopping him. “And all it takes is a little bit of electricity and a good channel-”

“I WANT ONE!”

Stan blinked, startled out of his spiel by the manotaur’s roar.

The beast abruptly hurled himself out of the cart and charged-right.  Through. The window. He smashed several of the televisions in his excitement, but he managed to snatch one up intact, ripping the plug out of the socket and hoisting it over his head triumphantly.

Not even un-notice powder was enough to prevent the people inside the store from noticing the wanton destruction.

Time to go.

****

Fortunately, Stan managed to herd everyone (several of the other creatures had rushed into the store to snatch devices for themselves in all the excitement) back into the cart and take off before the cops showed up.  Even better, the un-notice powder didn’t completely wear off until they were back in the forest, so even if the townsfolk noticed them fleeing the scene, it wouldn’t have been anything too distinct. Probably.

Stan gladly accepted a few extra tips from the happy group as they left the carts, hurrying off into the forest and chattering excitedly to each other about all the things they’d seen.

“See ya later, everyone!  Tell your friends! And remember, we put the ‘fun’ in ‘no refunds!’”

Huh; I like the sound of that.  Gonna haveta remember it for next time.

Grinning to himself, Stan finished putting everything in the large treasure chest he’d brought to collect everyone’s payments, locked it, and then drove back towards home, feeling that on the whole this had been a pretty good day.

It was just his luck, however, that Ford would be standing in the driveway as he came up, hands on his hips and wearing his “there had better be an amazing explanation for this” expression.

The cart came to a slow stop, and Stan gave his brother a weak smile.

“...Hey, Sixer.  I got you more samples.”

#flipside au #gravity falls #stan pines #ford pines #Celestabellebethabelle #Stan the tour guide

[crazyrandomfucker]

Toblerone to obliterate someone

Based by a challenge promt of @gale-of-the-nomads

___________________

As Marinette left with his father, Adrien simply stood where he was, smiling like an idiot and waving goodbye to them.

"Wow, I can't believe that went so well" said Plagg hiding on Adrien's other pocket.

"Neither do I Plagg, I feel like walking on clouds" said Adrien smiling stupidly.

"Well, make sure to take good care of her kid. She's a great one" said Plagg.

"Do you know her?" asked Adrien.

"Yeah, I met her that time with Kwami Buster. Then I went a couple of times to check on her, she gave me Camembert filled croissants. That's why if you hurt Princess I'll kick your ass" warned Plagg.

"Since when do you visit people like that?" asked Adrien half curious.

"I only visit Ladybug and her, because I thought she was interesting and I wasn't disappointed" said Plagg.

Adrien was going to reply, but the music stopped and the lights illuminated an enormous screen descending from the ceiling. When the screen was turned on, the saw and listened to Marinette talking with Gabriel Agreste, unaware that everyone was hearing them.

--------------

Gabriel Agreste was a misterious person for sure. Marinette couldn't quite decypher him while they walked towards wherever he was taking her. If someone had told Marinette that he was a robot clone of the real man, she wouldn't have doubted it.

Finally, they got into the backstage and Marinette was ordered to change into the dress she wore at the beauty contest again, paired with the crown they had given her. Once she was changed and waiting behind some very heavy courtains that blocked even the sound of the concert, Gabriel gave her a gigantic Toblerone. It was taller than her, but it didn't weight as much as Marinette had expected it.

"As I told you before, I have something for you to do as Miss Miraculous, but before explaining it, let me congratulate you" said Gabriel with his emotionless expression. "I was certainly impressed by you, as well as I was impressed by your outfits which, correct me if I'm wrong, you yourself designed and tailored them. I will be expecting your debut on the fashion world, which I believe it won't be far from now".

"Thank you sir, it's an honor to hear that from you" said Marinette smiling sincerely as she blushed a bit. "You are the one I've been looking up to when designing and I can't express how hapou I feel hearing something like that" said tearing a couple of tears of happiness.

"I feel honored then" said Gabriel changing his expression into a more relaxed one. "Now, for what I need you to do is simply give that Toblerone to an employee of mine that will be coming in a moment, Lila. I know you are nit precisely on the best terms with her, but as Miss Miraculous it's your duty to deliver this award to hardwork, so do your best effort to deal with it" said before he left.

"Look who we have here" said Lila as she entered the room wearing make up and a red dress. "Isn't it Dupain-Clumsy-Cheng? I'm amazed you won the beauty contest".

"Hello Lila" said Marinette trying her best not to groan and roll her eyes.

"You know, that giant piece of disgusting chocolate remembers me of you. Sweet and repulsive" said Lila laughing.

"This chocolate is your prize for hardworking Lila, I'm sure everyone thinks you deserve it" said Marinette resisting the urge to hit her.

"Having to play nice today? It must be killing you to lie like I do. Seriously, how is everybody so stupid? Even Gabriel Agreste believes everything I tell him involving Adrien's classmates" said proudly the italian girl. "Anyway, that crappy chocolate is not a prize for someone like me

"They are all far too good for you Lila, even if you don't value them. But I do, so I'd recommend you to drop the insults" warned her Marinette.

"Oh come on. They are all stupid fools willing to hear whatever will be best for them even if it's a lie. They are worthless bugs that will follow me to the end of the world just because they believe me" said Lila grinnig. "Like, this price? I haven't worked a single bit and yet, Gabriel Agreste himself decided to award it to me, because I'm the only one he knows, the only one he can trust. Just like that, all the idiots follow me and whatever I plan for them".

"That's it Lila" said Marinette letting a note of anger get to her voice. "Stop insulting my friends, my loved ones and everyone who was unlucky enough to met you".

"Unlucky? They are Lucky to habe someone like me turning them from useless garbage into tools. Just wait until I make you hated by everyone and get Adrien just for me. After all, he's nothing but an accesory" said cockily Lila.

"You deserve no prize! And you don't deserve this Toblerone!" said Marinette now completely angry as she picked the toblerone and hit Lila with it. "You know nothing of them and you know nothing of Adrien! All of their problems, of their virtues! They are amazing and you don't deserve anything from them!"

"Ow! You little sl-" began to say Lila, but shut up once she saw that the curtains in front of them were opening and everyone was looking at them on a screen.

Everyone booed and was very angry with Lila, calling her everything but pretty. Gabriel Agreste called the security guards and told them to kick Lila out. Marinette was shocked. She didn't expected everyone to be listenning to them, she thought that Lila's reaction would be filmed afterwards she got the price, not before. Gabriel Agreste aproached her and picked up the Toblerone bar from the floor.

"I must say ypu never cease to impress me young lady. You value your connections and the people you get to know. You haven't showed an ounce of selfishness when I praised you, nor when I tasked you with this... Unpleasant task. And above all, you have placed your friends, your family and your aquantice before your own sake just now. For all of that, I think you fit better a price like this, for your selflessness and dedication" said giving her the Toblerone. "Thought please refrain from hitting someone else with a chocolate like this one, the ones this size are rather rare".

"O-Ofcourse. I'm sorry" apologised Marinette confused, not sure of what to do or say.

"Marinette!" said Alya as she went and tackle-hugged her best friend. "Oh my god girl, that was so badass! I love you girl!"

"It's nice to see we can always can count with you Mari. I'm sorry for doubting you" said Nino with a bittersweet tone.

"That was very nice Marinette. Well, not the part of hitting Lila, because that was cool" said Adrien.

"I will take my leave for now. Have fun Adrien and enjoy the rest of the event Marinette. Goodbye" said Gabriel leaving.

"That was..." said Adrien.

"Weird? Yes, a lot" said Alya raising an eyebrow. "Your father is a very strange man, no ofense Sunshine".

"No, I think so too" assured Adrien.

"At least he hasn't obliterated a liar with a giant Toblerone" teased Nino and Marinette blushed.

"Hey, leave my girl alone or I'll begin to tease your boy and we both nknow I have some sweet material for teasing" said Alya smirking mischievously.

"Alya no" said Adrien. "I've got enough of your microphones for a year".

"Such a pity you disconnected your microphone at a crucial time" said Alya feigning sadness, but then a flashy grin appeared on her face. "Or it would be if I hadn't put another microphone on Marinette. We still have to listen to it, but it will be less painful if you two spill now".

"Alya!" exclaimed Marinette getting redder.

"I know a good scoop when I see one girl and I won't believe for a second that nothing happened. You are lucky I won't share it with the girls" said Alya.

"If you dare even think about sending that to them I'll ban you from the bakery forever" said Marinette completely serious.

"Noooooooo. Your delicious baked goods no. You monster" said Alya dramatically.

"I'm fine with telling them" said Adrien. "I mean, I was probably going to tell Nino anyway".

"Watch it young man, or no croissants for you" said Marinette.

"I'm just saying, things will be faster if we tell them now rather than keeping it a secret and thwn suffering Alya's reporter mode" pointed Adrien.

"I'll take that as a compliment Buttercups" said Alya.

"I've been wondering, why do you and Alix call me sometimes Buttercup?" asked Adrien.

"Nothing! They are silly!" said Marinette desperatedly.

"Then it's something about you? I'll ask another time then" said Adrien and the sides of his lips curved.

"We'll talk about that later" said Marinette glaring at him annoyed.

"Yes yes. Let the old married couple banter for later, I want the deets" said Alya.

"We're not an old married couple!" said Marinette and Adrien blushing.

"Yeah, and I'm Hawk Moth" said Nino laughing.

"Anyway, I need the details. Now" said Alya grabbing Marinette.

"W-We're dating" said Marinette blushing.

"Well no shit honey, that much is obvious. Tell me how it went and how much I'll have to punch our oblivious supermodel" said Alya.

As the teenagers talked, a black shadow zoomed unseen from Adrien's jacket into Marinette's poach on the waiting room. The black cat kwami touched the red kwami and awakened her.

"Hello Sugarcube. It's weird of you to be sleeping at a time like this" said Plagg smugly grinning.

"What are you doing here? And what do you mean? I have slept during the whole party, Marinette told me to do so in case we get another midnight akuma" said Tikki, not hidding her irritation from being woken up.

"You have slept through all?" said Plagg and began to laugh wholeheartedly. "You have missed the thing you love most!"

"What are you talking about Stinky Socks?" asked Tikki.

"My kitten and your baby bug, that's what I'm talking about" said Plagg smirking.

"No way. Are they finally a thing?" said Tikki beaming.

"And you have slept right through all the declaration" snickered Plagg.

"Noooo" said Tikki.

"Lucky for you, I have a way for you to hear it all" sang Plagg. "But there is a price for such info, of course"

"What cheese do you want?" said Tikki deadpanned.

"Even thought I would love to have some cheese, it's something else what I want this time" said Plagg smirking.

"Spill. What is more important that your beloved cheese?" asked Tikki a tad curious.

"Don't worry Sugar Cube it's something easy. I want that your baby bug learns my kitten's identity" said Plagg. "She is the guardian now, if anything happens she'll need to know that".

"Plagg, if Ladybug knew that your kitten is Chat Noir, she'll broke up with him and one of them will be akumatized. On a different timeline your kitty was akumatized and destroyed everything and the fight against him was horrendous. She bowed to never ever date Chat Noir after Chat Blanc told her that their love had destroyed everything" said Tikki.

"I see your point Sugar Cube but you forgot a little fact there" said Plagg. "You don't know why was my kitten akumatized. If I had to guess, only something that seriously broke him would make him akumatizable, like his father being Hawk Moth or if something happened to your bug".

"So what? We're risking another akumatization?" said Tikki. "Because I have to remind you that my bug has been almost akumatized two times. I will not allow it to happen again".

"If my kitten was akumatized being civilian, how would your bug know that she's not having support? What will happen if, like Gorizilla or Style Queen, my kitten can't help your bug and the enemy is way too strong for her? Reveal Hawk Moth where does she live?" said Plagg harshly. "This Ladybug is stronger than what you think. I trust her, do you?"

"Of course I do!" replied Tikki offended.

"Then do it! Because all I'm seeing now is your fear!" exclaimed Plagg annoyed. "You're just scared to lose her like the rest of Ladybugs!"

"And you're being possesive because don't have a murderer this time!" shouted Tikki and inmediately regretted it as she saw Plagg's expression darken. "I'm sorry Plagg, I didn't mean-"

"That's right! I am selfish! I like this pure boy that doesn't misuse his powers! We both now how strange that is!" bursts Plagg. "But I like this bug too! She is different! This two belong together and each passing day that they don't know each other just adds more and more reasons to the list of why shouldn't they reveal because they'll be akumatized!"

"I know okay! I know that they'll have to know someday and it's more difficult each passing day!" exploded Tikki. "But we have reasons not to do it now. Let them be happy for a bit more of time".

"It'll only be worse and you know it" said Plagg bitterly. "Forget it, it's no use to talk to you when you're afraid. Just search in Alya's phone and you'll have your sappy confession" said as he left.

Tikki was hurt. She knew better than anyone how right was Plagg, but she couldn't lose another Ladybug, there had been so many murdered. However, she also knew that Plagg hadn't always had the best holders and even she had found Adrien endearing. If only things were different...

Her thoughts and sobs were interrupted when she heard the door of the room openning and she quickly wiped her tears. Someone took the poach carefully and Tikki peeked to see if it was Marinette. But it was Alya who she saw, so she went back inside the poach again.

"Girl, here's your poach" said Alya.

"Oh thanks god! I feared thar Lila had taken it in revenge" said Marinette relieved.

"I'm going to pulverize that lying fox when I get her! The nerve she had messing with you" said Alya.

"It's okay now Alya, don't worry" said Marinette. "It's enough that everyone knows now".

"But Mari! You were almost akumitized twice and almost expelled once!" protested Alya.

"But I wasn't so calm down. Besides, I'm sure that all the parents that were here today will make a very good complaint to the school, so she's bound to be expelled" pointed Marinette.

"Girls, are you going to take more time in there?" asked Nino from outside the room. "There is an awful lot of people outside that want to talk to Marinette".

"This is not over young lady. I'm going to calm down the audience, you'd better change back girl" said Alya and left.

"Phew, it was hard to evade having another lady wifi appearence" said Marinette.

"What happens Marinette?" asked Tikki from inside the purse, trying to sound normal.

"Oh, you won't believe it Tikki. Lila has slipped and now everyone knows she's a liar" said Marinette happily. "But what was even better was that Adrien has confessed that he loves me and now we're dating! Even his father seems to approve that!"

"I'm so happy for you Marinette" said Tikki smiling bitterly.

"Tikki?" asked Marinette when she opened her poach and saw Tikki. "What happens? Are you okay?"

"I just had a small disagreement with Plagg earlier, don't worry" said Tikki.

"Oh Tikki" said the girl as she caressed the kwami. "What has that alley kwami done to you know?"

"He just told me the truth Mari" said Tikki and suddenly became more serious. "You need to know Chat's identity".

"What?!" exclaimed Marinette.

"Marinette, listen to me. You need to know and no matter what, please don't overreact" said Tikki.

"Is it that bad? You're kind of scaring me" said Marinette.

"I just hope this ends well" said Tikki looking away.

"Then... Who is he?" asked Marinette.

"I can't tell you. I'll go and talk with him later. He has to be the one who reveals" said Tikki.

--------------

Adrien was peacefully sitting on his room, fantasazing about all the wonderful things he could do with Marinette. He wanted to take her on a date, a wonderful one, and he was thinking about the infinite possibilites while smiling like a lovesick idiot, as Plagg would say.

Plagg was being weird thought. He hadn't demanded cheese as per usual, nor had he driven Adrien nuts with all the new girlfriend stuff. Furthermore, he even seemed to be annoyed or maybe angry. But then a red blur entered the room and his mood switched ten times between fury, sadness and hope. The blur stopped in front of Adrien and he recognized as Tikki.

"Tikki? What are you doing here?" asked Adrien confused. "Is Ladybug okay?"

"She is, for now at least" said as she glared Plagg. "I'm here for something very important".

"So you finally saw what we need to do" said Plagg.

"I am under no means pleased with this Plagg. It's going to hurt Ladybug and the odds are quite messed up" replied Tikki annoyed.

"Wait, what is happenning?" asked Adrien.

"You need to reveal your identity to Ladybug. But listen well, because I will be forcing her not to reveal hers, so don't even dare to think about that" said Tikki. "This is important Adrien, everything is going to change, I just hope things will go smoothly, or we're going to have serious problems".

"I don't quite understand..." said Adrien.

"Look kid, it's necessary that Ladybug knows your identity. The thing is, you and her know each other as civilians and the surprise could mess everything or fix you two" said Plagg.

"We'll meet tonight at ten at the top of Eiffel's Tower" said Tikki "Please Adrien, just don't blame her of anything, everything has been our's fault" she said and then left.

"I'm scared. Is it that bad I'm Chat Noir?" asked Adrien feeling very down.

"It's not that kid. Just some time travel shenanigans about a future you were akumatized. Ladybug sweared to never live you to protect Paris, but she is in love with civilian you" said Plagg grabbing a bit of Camembert.

"What?!"

"All this time, the boy she liked was you, but neither of you knew. The irony is hilarious".

-------------

Ladybug was nervously walking from one side of another while she waited for Chat. Who could Chat be? Tikki was clearly worried. Did she know him outside the mask? That must be. Wait, what if they hate eachother outside the mask?

Meanwhile, Chat Noir arrived, his head also full of questions. He saw her, worrying as she didn't stop walking. He made clear he was there to not startpe her and for a second, a bit of fear shined on Ladybug's eyes, but Chat was feeling the same.

"Hello My Lady" said Chat Noir awkwardly.

"Hello chaton" replied her, unsure of hiw to act.

"Before we do anything, I must tell you something Ladybug" said Chat. "I promise that no matter what, I will not blame you for anything or despise you in anyway, even if your kwami has implied so to me before. I could never truly hate you".

"Thank you Chat, it means a lot" said gently Ladybug. She took a paper out of the yoyo. "Now, Tikki has made this plan in hope everything goes better. I'll be closing my eyes and won't open them until your kwami says so".

"Okay... Let's do it LB" said Chat.

Ladybug closed her eyes and turned the sheet of paper to Chat. He skimmed throught it and then detransformwd, giving Plagg a bit of cheese. Plagg read the paper and understood what he had to do.

"Don't open your eyes yet Ladybug, I need to talk with you first" ordered Plagg and Ladybug complied. "First of all, if you two have to blame someone, blame me. I pushed Tikki to convince her to do this and she wasn't very pleased to do so".

"Okay..." said Ladybug without opening her eyes.

"Now, that's what Tikki wanted me to say, but I have to add more. Ladybug, my holder is a good boy, he's not that bad and that's for sure" said Plagg. "And even if there is a possibility you don't quite react well, I personally think that you will like to know who is he".

"That was very sweet of you Plagg" said Adrien surprised.

"Don't get used to it boy" replied Plagg. "Now, open your eyes Ladybug".

She opened them and saw Plagg in front of her making a very silly face. She giggled and pet the kwami, taking him on her hands to look at his holder. And there he was, standing awkwardly, not quite sure what to do, Adrien Agreste. She felt a whirl inside her, spinning her feelings and messing with them. For a moment, she felt sad and hurt, remembering Chat Blanc, but then she realized the truth and began to laugh wholeheartedly as she tackled him in a hug.

"Uh... Ladybug?" asked Chat confused.

"I'm so happy you are my adorable dorky partner" said Ladybug giggling.

"I thought that you made a promise to yourself not to love Chat Noir" said Adrien.

"I thought so, but I've realized that it's impossible, no matter how hard I hide miy feelings" said Ladybug "I cannot stop loving you".

"I- I'm sorry Ladybug, but I now have a girlfriend" said Adrien.

"I know that minou" said Ladybug and let him go. "I was very happy to know who you are".

"I'm relieved My Lady, I was afraid after how worried was Tikki".

"I know, she totally freaked me out but it was worthy. Now I know that my so caring partner, the one I trust the most, is also the boy who stole my heart on a rainy day" said Ladybug with a melancholic look on her face. "I really want to reveal my identity to you now..."

"You can't, Tikki has made it so you won't be able to say anything related to yourself and you won't be able to detransform unless she says so" said Plagg.

"I know, but I do really want to detransform and-" tried to say Ladybug, but red bubbles came out of her mouth.

"Yes, that's what happens" said Plagg. "Thought, it's funnier to see it happen on humans".

"I'm glad that my inability to speak is entertaining for you" sassed Ladybug.

"Don't look at me, it was Tikki's idea" replied Plagg.

"I'm very confused right now and I am not sure what is happenning" stated Adrien.

"It's not important" said Plagg. "Let's go home, I'm getting tired and I don't want to deal with human hormones".

"I guess this is goodbye then" said Ladybug scratching her head.

"I guess so" replied Adrien shrugging.

"Goodbye Adrien" said Ladybug and turned to leave, but stopped halfway, kissed Adrien's cheek and left quickly.

"What was that?" said Adrien confused as he touched the spot where she had kissed him.

"Girls. That's why I told you that it's better to love cheese" pointed Plagg. "Come on kid, transform and let's get home already".

-----------

THE END (?)

#miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug