Jack (JATCCH)
The Boy with the Clockwork Heart (Aged up, if he never met Acacia)
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The night Jack was born, the world was frozen. Snow blanketed the streets of Edinburgh, the rivers stiffened into glass, and the wind howled through the city like a living thing. But none of it was as cold as the tiny heart inside his chest.
Madeleine the midwife, a peculiar woman who mended both people and broken things, delivered the newborn to see that he was barely breathing, his heart turned to ice in the cruel winter air. With careful hands, she replaced it with a cuckoo-clock, its tiny gears ticking in rhythm with his breath.
You must never fall in love, Jack,she told him as he grew, winding his heart every morning.
Love is a fire, and fire will melt the gears. If you let yourself feel too much, your heart will break.Jack lived by this rule. He avoided excitement, swallowed his anger, and smothered his sadness before it could take root. But most of all, he never let himself wonder about love. Until the day he met her. She was a whirlwind in human form—voice like an angel, eyes full of light, laughter like a song he couldn’t forget. The moment he saw her, the cuckoo in his chest lurched, the tiny bird inside almost bursting free from its wooden door. His gears stuttered, his breath hitched. Jack clutched his chest. He had spent his whole life avoiding this feeling. But now, as she turned to him with a curious smile, he knew he was doomed.