#poor Legend I had to mention him at least a little if I was gonna throw merpeople into the mix LOL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neovisioned · 4 years

Text

♡ꜜ broken mirrors﹫jaehyun jung

pairing : jaehyun x reader (f), ft. nct dream and johnny.

genre : angst, smut, horror-ish, cursed!jaehyun, (kind of bloody mary!au), college!au.

warnings : jaehyun is meant to be kind of twisted, some toxic and manipulative behaviour from him, black magic, mentions of rituals, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mention of anxiety, voyeurism, choking, guided masturbation, degradation, pet names : doll, darling, kid, reminder jaehyun is an entity from the victorian era, reader is kind of reckless and impulsive.

word count : 25k exactly.

synopsis : where your college friends recall a creepy legend known around your university about a man that appears in mirrors and grants you two wishes when summoned. Jisung is dared to say his name three times and see what happens. you at first brush it off as some copy of bloody mary but, when your friend chickens out and swears something happened in that bathroom, you can’t deny the shift in atmosphere everyone felt. once in your dorm, the urge to try it out mixed with fear pushes you over the edge. it’s probably fake anyways, right ? you summon Jung Jaehyun in the middle of the night, on your bed, and he is not what you expected him to be.

a/n : this was supposed to be a short one shot, lol. reminder this isn’t an all pink story. for the people who’ve read my other stuff, it’s quite different from what i usually write ! also, this isn’t proofread. in case tags don’t work : @nct-writers @neowritingsnet @thekpopnet.

“Do you seriously believe in this kind of shit ?” laughs Jeno, a bit too loudly for the other students probably peacefully resting in the dorms right next to his. One hand covers the economics student’s mouth, visibly chewing on some chips and guacamole freshly made for tonight. Jaemin whines at the obvious joke his friend is making him out to be in front of everyone, a pout on his rosy lips. Poor thing, a dusty pink colors his cheeks – noticeable despite the low lighting of Jeno’s room - he looks down at the half empty plate, crumbs of potatoes on the ceramic.

“At least let me tell the story !”, Jaemin argues, slapping the red haired’s hand away. Stealing one of the last larger chips, Jaemin dips it in the smashed avocado. The blonde eats his chip almost aggressively, a victorious noise coming out of his closed mouth when Jeno notices the little amount of guacamole he left for him.

“We were supposed to watch a scary movie, telling creepy stories’ the next best option.”, you say, leaning back against your friend’s Fatboy. Tonight was yet another one of these half improvised movie nights with your college friends. Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle and Donghyuck were all in your campus, in different courses and yet, you all managed to come together in one tight neck group. Every week, one member of the group would host a little something to celebrate…not dying ? Yeah, something like that.

Thursday, tonight was obviously Jeno’s turn to hold the gathering, he had proposed a nice horror movie night but, Jisung, a language student, ended up chickening out after hearing the movie’s synopsis. You don’t really blame him, though, the story was meant to keep its viewers up for nights.

“Jisung’s a pussy !”, Donghyuck teases the young man, a hand ruffling his peach hair to annoy him even more. “I have things to do tomorrow and I need my sleep !”, he defends himself for the nth time tonight, a new argument each time. The other boys aren’t really bothered by the change, movies usually get lost in the group’s banter and casual conversations anyways. You can count on two hands the number of movies you entirely watched with your friends.

“He’s gonna get scared by some stories, too.”, the brunette continues his teasing like he usually does. Jisung pushes him to the side as an answer, before crossing his arms over his chest. Like everyone else, he’s already wearing his pyjamas, his and everyone else’s dorm room is in the same building and so, everyone could get to their bed in minutes, if not seconds.

“He’s going to knock at your door tonight, Y/N.”, Jeno joins in, all very well knowing that the peach haired’s dorm is right next to yours, seconds away. There’s a snore from Donghyuck, slapping a hand on the wooden table as he adds something to the conversation too, one you don’t catch. “Oh no, don’t. But I can give you a plushie if you’re really scared.”, you join in before immediately wrapping an arm around your friend for comfort.

“’m joking. Come on, what’s your story, Jaemin.”, you hum, letting Jisung lean his head against your shoulder with a whine, pout on his pink lips.

“Lets do one each, yeah ? I have a story to tell and we’ll see who will really need a plushie.”, taunts the young man at your side, though no one truly believes him at first. Jisung, having scary stories to tell ? Hard to believe.

“Wait ! We need to get in the mood !”, interjects Jaemin, getting up from his position on the floor. He easily navigates in the room with Jeno, like a third home. The first closes all windows, pushes curtains and turns off any lights to, like he said, get in the creepy mood.

“H-Hey ! Can we at least keep one on ?”, Chenle joins the peach haired as a laughing point for the other boys, but Jaemin quickly obliges and lets the light of the small bathroom on for his friend, you suspect he didn’t like the complete lack of light either. You can barely see the front door from your spot, the yellowish light easily drowns the group in the storytelling atmosphere and, Jaemin joins the group again. “Wait, one last thing !”, searching for something in a drawer next to his bed, Jeno ends up taking a red candle out with a victorious sound. It hasn’t been touched at all, you inspect it a bit closely when your friend sets it on the wooden table.

“Got it because of TikTok, it has something in it.”, he mumbles out, running a hand in his dyed hair, almost embarrassed. You wonder again how almost everyone in this group has their hair a different shade of some unnatural colour and yet, dried locks aren’t falling out on the dorm floor - yet. Thumb on his lighter, Jeno tries a few times before he gets a flame steady enough, bringing it to the white thread sticking out of his impulsive purchase.

“There, now we’re in the mood.”, proud of his little setup, the red haired sits down again, a small giggle escaping his lips at Chenle’s frightened look, already sheltering himself with his arms. The candle smells like strawberries, tall flame wavering under your friends’ breaths, the red haired slaps your hand away when you try to dig in the melted wax for the mystery treasure with one of his forks.

“Now, Jaemin ! Let us hear your story.”, slapping his hands together, Donghyuck leans a bit closer to the center of the table. It is no secret in the group that Donghyuck has a love for scary stories and anything crime related, it seems he has been waiting for this moment. His face gets enlightened by the small candle, a weird angle that changed his features. “Try and scare us.”, the dance student challenged.

Jisung’s arm wraps and tightens around your own when Jaemin takes the little light in his own hands, bringing the flame under his face. “Alright, do you guys know what’s a…Banshee ?”, his last word comes out as a whisper, letting the last syllable hang in the air for a few. “Oh, no.”, Renjun’s head rolls back, it rests against Jeno’s bed for a bit as he squeezes his eyes shut, whining in almost pain. “Oh, yes. Renjun knows this story.”, remembers Jaemin, a smile stretching his lips, devilish. Everyone else comes a bit closer to the table, curiosity poked by Renjun’s natural reaction. You’re the only one shaking your head from left to right, but you doubt the others know about what the storyteller’s talking about.

“A Banshee’s a female spirit whose wailing warns of a death in a house.”, starts Jaemin, hands dancing around the small flame, probably enjoying the heat, drawing slight shadows on the walls. He pays no attention to the small gasp falling from Chenle’s lips, about to continue. “Wow, Wikipedia. Big boy words.”, notifies Jeno, earning a death glare by the narrator.

“It happened years ago, me and my family were on vacation in Ireland. You guys know, I have some relatives there. It was for a wedding, so all my cousins and I were staying at my Uncle’s house.”, finally starts Jaemin, voice a lot quieter. The young medicine student easily gets the entire group captivated with his words and aura. Even Renjun who already knows this story, even Jisung who usually, does not like scary tales. It is clear the intimate aspect of a story lived by a friend helps a lot, it isn’t anything mainstream or heard before, it adds to the mystery. For the next minutes, the young man tells his story with as much seriousness as he can, keeping the candle right under his face.

“We were all around the ages of ten and thirteen, my Uncle’s house was deep in the Irish country side. I remember that parents would all sleep on the first floor and let us have the second for big sleepovers. So, my cousins and I would stay late and watch horror movies. I mean, you let kids alone, obviously they’re going to stay up late, right ?” Haechan only agrees while Jisung lets about a “this isn’t starting very well.”, eyebrows furrowed, cheek rubbing against your shoulder. “But eventually, my Uncle would come up and switch off the TV. You guys don’t know him but he’s...Special. He wouldn’t walk us to bed right away, he’d tell us about Banshees. Irish spirits, he’d describe them to us. A fragile, old woman with ripped clothes. Black hair down to her feet, sickly white skin and a veil over her red, bloody eyes.” Jaemin lets the description sink in, your face contours at the thought, you don’t have to look at Jisung to know he has the same expression on his. Donghyuck, him, is smiling a bit too much, leaning closer to the narrator for more. Jeno is strangely afraid too, towing with a loose thread sticking out of his blanket. “Her screams have one meaning. Someone is going to die.”, Jaemin dramatically lets out the last word, keeping a straight, serious face even when Donghyuck cooes. “I hate this.”, you mumble out, to which Jisung agrees. “My Uncle would tell us about how clocks would stop, all of a sudden, fall off walls and crash on the floor before hearing a Banshee. Lights would turn on and off, flicker, doors would fly open without a breeze and slap against the walls. Paintings and pictures would fall down. He’d describe the keening as high pitch sounds, it’d pierce your soul and make every hair on your body stand.” Another pause, it’s clear Jaemin already told this story. There, he mimics the sound of a keening Banshee. And, if you think he’d sound silly, he does. High pitched is not a sound your friend can achieve and, it takes a few laughs here and there. Chenle visibly relaxes, back leaning away from the Fatboy. “He’d then walk us to bed after his Banshee story and we’d stay awake out of fear, you know. Just staring outside the windows, at the dark, Irish country side. Pitch black, no lights, tall - tall trees. It was during the winter, a wedding in the snow. And so, his big garden would be fogged up. A dense, white fog, we could barely see anything.”

The small flame grows taller, it wavers again under Jaemin’s words, light dancing on the red haired’s table. “One night, after my Uncle walked us to bed, me and my cousins were looking outside when we saw it.” Jisung shivers next to you without even hearing the rest, you almost giggle at his reaction. Both the narrator’s palms softly hit the table before he continues. A sound leaves his lips, like the image his memory is forming in front of his eyelids is enough to scare him. “We saw one.”, Jaemin finally announces.

In another situation, Donghyuck would be the first one to deny or refute Jaemin’s words. No you didn’t, you almost say but, your lips part for a second, without a sound. Hyper focusing on your friend, you can’t deny the slight shiver that runs down your spine when he continues. “Red, glowy eyes. Right under a tree. She was wearing a white dress and just like Uncle said. She was taller than Uncle described, she could probably easily touch the tall branches of the trees. Skinny, lanky body, we couldn’t see if she had a veil or if it was ripped.” There’s a pause again, Jaemin looks at the clock right behind you and you can not help it, you turn around just in case. “The clock stopped.” Fortunately, he isn’t talking about Jeno’s.

“No.”, the red haired whispers out but, Jaemin does not even look at him, continuing his story.

“She wasn’t moving, just standing...there. White dress, black hair. We couldn’t see exactly where she was looking at but it was clear she was staring at our house. And then…”, for a second time, the young man mimics a Banshee’s scream but, it’s too good this time. It’s quiet enough that he does not bother Jeno’s neighbors, but high pitched and blood drenching. The quiet scream is drawn out, Jaemin leans on his palms and elevates himself before he’s out of breath, stopping abruptly. “Dude.”, you whisper out, getting a look from Jisung.

“And then. She disappeared. We saw her walking between the house and my Uncle’s neighbor’s house. It was so weird, she wasn’t slow, she was walking quickly, so quickly. But it was like her knees weren’t in place, her legs would twitch to the side every now and then.”, Jaemin sits down again, looking at each of his friends in the eyes. You didn’t know he was this good at storytelling, you have to keep yourself from picturing this tall, lanky woman quickly walking in the dark. “We locked all the doors, closed all the windows. We were so scared, we would look at each other like…‘who’s going to die tonight ?’”

“Shut it, no one died.”, the red haired lets out, sentence rushed. But, Renjun finally speaks up, throwing a balled up tissue at your friend, one he cannot dodge, getting hit right on his forehead. “Sht and listen.”

“We did not sleep at all that night and…”, you almost hit the medicine student at the nth pause, you can’t deny the fact that he has you at the edge of your metaphorical seat. “The next morning, my Uncle found our neighbour. Dead.”

There’s a gasp from everyone, your eyebrow’s and Donghyuck’s raise up and before you can speak up, Renjun whispers at you to just “wait for the next part.” You hear one of your friends babbling about how it’s all bullshit, but Jaemin never leaves his narrator persona. “We told my Uncle about the Banshee, he had heard it too and since nothing happened to us or our parents, he went to his neighbors’ house. Both really believed in these kind of things, these Irish legends. He was found in his little sofa, turned towards his window. He didn’t have any heart problems but apparently, his heart stopped during the night. My dad told me a bit more two years ago, he was found with his eyes...Wide open.”

The moment Jaemin finishes his little story, questions fly from each side of the table and your friend answers quickly, like he was ready for each one of them. “You can call my mom and ask her about it if you want to, Donghyuck.”, the confidence the medicine student has in his story is enough for the brunette. A nice story to start on, you all note, but the neighbor’s death was probably a weird coincidence, right ? At the very least, that’s what you’d like to think. Finally, when everyone calmed down from Jaemin’s story, he pushed the candle towards Jisung. “Your turn, you said you had a story to tell.”

Your friend nods quickly, hands resting on the pyramide shape of the candle, frowning at the layer of wax it leaves on his palms. A little pool of melting wax is forming at the top and you wonder for a moment if it’s not going to spill on the table. Everyone’s attention turns towards the new narrator, Jaemin finding a new comfortable position on the floor. “Alright, uh. I don’t have the same storytelling skills as Jaemin and it isn’t the same type of story. You guys know Eric, right ?”, he starts, receiving some hums from Jeno and Jaemin.

“Eric the Eerie ?”, you ask, almost in disbelief at the mention. At the nickname, Donghyuck almost bursts out laughing, leaning his forehead against Jeno’s table and Renjun pouts a bit at the lack of seriousness his story is already receiving. “Yes, him. The old Litterature student.”, affirms Renjun. You remember the guy, tall and lanky, legend has it that he suddenly went from the bottom of his class to the very top almost overnight, collecting amazing grades after amazing grades. No one knew how he did it. Plus, he was a bit weird. It might seem a bit mean but, his appearance didn’t help and, he would not talk to anyone either, he avoided big bodies of water and mirrors, you doubt he had any friend here, too. He’d apparently sit in the back of his class and, when he graduated, he took his diploma first and left. Nowhere to be seen now.

“Didn’t he graduate last year ?”, Jaemin asks, grabbing a bottle of juice from the side. Even in the dark, he is able to pour himself a glass full without spilling it everywhere.

“He did, yeah. Did you guys hear about the legend ? The one around how he got his grades up ?”, there’s a sound coming from your mouth, half confused and half intrigued. “Uh ?” Jaemin hums loudly, the sound resonates between the walls of his glass as his eyes blow wide for a second. “The Yoonoh thing ? I heard about that but not in details.” Apparently, Jaemin isn’t the only one who recalls the name. It is one you and all your friends have heard before, right when you entered your university. It wasn’t mentioned in the flyers or, by the teachers, even. It was first brought up during a party hosted by older students, one where they all told you about the campus’ legends and stories.

“His name’s written all over the walls of the old building. Also, it’s in the main building’s restroom, I think.”, Renjun informs and your memory clicks. Your university has many buildings but, one of them, a bit further away from the campus, is abandoned. It has been for years now but you and your friends decided to visit it out of curiosity during your first year, a bit after the party. You could say it was pretty underwhelming, nothing too special if it wasn’t for old structures and dirty floors. Empty classes and weird smells, like any other abandoned places, you could say. You remember the same name being written over and over again on the walls, the desks, some mirrors. Younger you thought it was only a weird legend older students used to scare the new ones.

“Oh, right. What about it ?”, Jeno asks, eyebrows raising a bit at the new storyteller.

“Do you guys remember the legend ?”, you nod again and, help your other friends remember the old tale. Once upon a time, a man cursed, cursed in mirrors forever. Able to travel from room to room, forced to appear whenever properly summoned by someone. How did he end up with such a faith ? You do not know or, maybe you don’t remember what your older friends told you. Yoonoh was - or is -, his name. Much like Bloody Mary, call his name three times and he’ll eat your reflection, take your place in your mirror and offer you two wishes. Two and not three, the last one he keeps to himself, he’ll ask for something in return. The rest of the story is quite blurry, it changed from course to course. Some people said he’d trap people in mirrors, other that he was a creepy, demonic looking creature asking for quite gory things. You had to say, when the story was told the night of the party, you got a bit creeped out but, you forgot about it since.

“Apparently, Eric summoned him. Midway through the school year, he summoned him in his bedroom and used one of his two wishes for better grades. The first wish was granted but, Yoonoh wanted Eric to sacrifice a friend to him. No one knows if he managed to do it or not, apparently he didn’t use his second wish and since, Yoonoh follows him everywhere he goes.”, Renjun dramatically says but, the effect isn’t one he anticipated for his little story. There’s a laugh from Donghyuck, quickly followed by Jeno. “C’mon dude, we wanted a scary story.”, interjects the medicine student and, you only hide your chuckle by drinking your juice. Poor Renjun pouts, trying to regain the attention of his friends. “Wait, listen ! Doesn't it make sense ? Like...Like, I see it happening.”, big pearly eyes find Jisung for some support, but his friend only looks away to hide his smile too.

“That story’s bullshit, I thought you knew.”, Jaemin finally says, sighing a little.

“But the grades going up ? How he’d dodge mirrors like the plague ? He even took the mirror from his bathroom and bedroom out.”, Renjun argues, leaning a bit too closely to the small flame. You wonder for a moment who exactly, decided to take advantage of your gullible friend. “It’s fake.”, Jisung says again, mimicking your friend. He gets a death glare from the fallen storyteller who didn’t have the throne for too long, pushing the candle to the center of the table.

“Alright…”, he starts, palms flat on the flat surface. Renjun plants his eyes into Jisung’s, small smile tugging at his lips at the thought crossing his mind. “I dare you to summon him.”

Oh, your friends still act like teenage boys. You don’t blame them, quite the contrary, you join them when they almost scream at the challenge thrown out. Everyone knows Jisung never turns a dare down, it probably has to do with his pride. But tonight, tonight might be the first time he does. Eyes scanning everyone, Jisung takes a bit too long to answer. There’s a bunch of “do it”’s from around the table, Jeno and Jaemin weirdly dancing to the beat of your words.

“Yoonoh ? Dude…”, eyes blown wide, he looks around at the uproar the narrator created, almost sending daggers. “I thought it was bullshit ?”, sarcastically asks Renjun, propping his chin on his hand, still on the table. Donghyuck calls him a chicken after some seconds of thinking and, this does it for Jisung’s pride and ego.

“He’s gonna do it !”, Jeno chokes out, hands thrown in the air in victory. The medicine student at his side takes the lit candle in his palms and offers it to Jisung once he finally stands up with an audible sigh, head low like a knight in front of a Queen. “It’s...fake anyways.”, he reassures himself alone, brushing his pyjamas. Slowly walking towards the dimly lit bathroom, Jisung quickly looks behind him to see if anyone stops him. Clearly, no one does.

“Do you remember how to do it ?”, Renjun asks, not even hiding his smile at Jisung’s obvious lack of confidence, a first. Shaking his head from left to right, Renjun quickly writes it down on a piece of paper, himself not daring saying it out loud. Standing up like the rest of your group, you look over your friend’s shoulder. He’s writing a few sentences down by memory, sentences you remember from the first university party.

“Mirror, mirror, mirror. Take my reflection as home. Show me my deepest, darkest desires. Give to me, take from me. Yoonoh, Yoonoh, Y…”

“I didn’t want to write his name three times.”, Renjun mumbles out, handing the small piece of paper to your friend, waiting in front of the bathroom door. You audibly laugh at his confession, poking Donghyuck with your elbow to react his words. “And I am the chicken ?”, Jisung asks a bit too offended, to which Jeno only pushes him inside the room. “I never said I wasn’t !”

Jeno tries to close the door behind him as quickly as possible but, Jisung is quicker and blocks the attempt with an arm, frightened look flashing in his eyes for a second, he already hates this. His mouth falls open the moment you turn the light off, only lit by the small candle and Jaemin’s phone’s light. “Do I have to ?”, he whines, quickly looking behind him. All the dorms have the same bathroom, small and packed, it seems Jisung never saw his bathroom in the dark or maybe, the candle lit adds to the creepiness. “Yes, you have to !”, it’s almost a harmony between you and Chenle and, with Jaemin’s help, the door gets closed and traps Jisung in the small room. Poor thing, you hear him let a whine out while your friends giggle, tapping on the door.

“C’mon, Jisung.”, Jaemin pushes him on and, you hear him mumble something on the other side. Finally, silence. Jisung probably sets the candle down, whines again about how he can’t read your friend’s handwriting. After a few minutes, he mumbles a few things again, voice audibly shaky. Jeno lets his nails travel down the painted wood of his door and, the poor thing reacts, loudly tapping the door.

“Is he doing it ?”, you ask quietly, ear to the door. “I think ?”, Donghyuck can only guess before he gestures to his friends to back away and stay silent. In Jeno’s dorm, badly lit, all packed in front of his door, you think it’s all fun and games. Finally, you hear Jisung say the first words with an ounce of confidence, clearing his throat every now and then, mirror, mirror, mirror. Your eyes grow wide, palms slightly sweaty, you have to rub them against your pyjama pants and crouch a bit down. He reads almost like a robot, a monotone voice he uses to add some humor in all of it, act nonchalant when you’re pretty sure he’s shitting himself in there. However, when you hear the second to last sentence, your blood rushes through your veins, he sounds different, like he’s finally taking it all seriously. It’s weird, your brain is convinced nothing is going to happen and yet, your heart races for him and the possibilities of what can happen between these four walls. You were never the one to believe in such things but, the adrenaline and thrill always got to you, always managed to scare you a bit and keep you up at night. It seems the situation does the same to your friends. Quickly, flashlights join Jaemin’s, you even see Chenle biting down on his lower lip, backing a bit away. At this very moment, you don’t know it yet but, your friend has a weird feeling greeting up his chest. Yoonoh, you hear him say his name once, you fake not feeling the air grow colder around you, goosebumps rising on your nakes arms, it’s probably the open wind-. You remember Jaemin closing every window before starting his story. A second time, Jisung sounds breathless, hesitant to let the word out, even. You almost open the door to let him out but you’re stuck there, unable to move anything but your eyes. Stuck in place, it seems like long minutes go by between your friend’s words. Quickly, you look over at the clock hung up on Jeno’s wall, the very one you thought would fall down during the medicine student’s story and...Is it...Slowing down ? Say it a third time and get out of here, you think to yourself, suddenly feeling sweat gathering on your body. Hairline, back, you fan yourself with your hand but nothing changes. It sounds like he tries to, syllable forming on his lips but nothing more gets out. He tries once, and never finishes. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine, you instinctively glare at Jaemin who stares at the plain door almost too intensively, you see his Adam’s Apple difficulty move up, and down, like he himself, feels the weird shift in atmosphere. When did this dumb dare turn so serious ? Something isn’t right, you don’t dare mention it at that moment, you don’t think you need to anyways. He isn’t able to let the last word out, silence on the other side, you almost think he’s pulling a prank on you before you hear it. You all hear a commotion, you hear Jisung thumble backwards and crash into one of Jeno’s furniture.

“What the fu-.”, before Donghyuck can even finish his sentence, the door abruptly opens, forcing everyone away from the entrance, your back crashes into Jeno’s chest who stood right behind you. A scared Jisung tumbles out the small room, almost running as fast as possible before letting his body fall on one of the Fatboys with a sound.

“Dude, what the fuck ?”, Jeno asks, half terrified and half amused, he doesn’t know what to feel yet. Jisung barely answers, he wonders for a moment if his friends won’t make fun of him for what’s going on in his mind. “Something touched me. Something touched me in there.”, he chokes out, breathing chopped. You know, you know Donghyuck is about to make fun of him before he walks towards the man, taken back by the genuinely afraid look he has on his face. “Wha- ? Are you okay ?”, he asks, palm resting on his friend’s upper arm in an attempt to calm him down.

Your attention gets grabbed by the still open door, you wouldn’t dare say it out loud but, there’s something strange about it. Pulled towards it, your eyes leave your visibly and audibly afraid friend for the dark place. You almost fear going inside and, you only look up at the dark room without entering, something in your body tells you not to. Staying right in front, it’s like you feel the shift in temperature between the living room and bathroom. Why does the bathroom look so...dark ? You barely register it, how the flashlights of your friends’ phones get absorbed by the darkness inside the smaller room, only lit by the small candle. It’s probably your brain, you think to yourself. A brain can do weird things to itself, it can imagine, create but, you’re sure you’re not hallucinating when you see the candle’s flame growing taller, wavering violently before eventually, getting blown. No wind, nothing, the pale trail of grey smoke flies straight upwards and you quickly back away, closing the door behind you in hopes of ending anything that went on in there.

“Here, here. Look !”, in the meantime, your entire group had gathered around Jisung, amused looks turned into worried ones at his twisted body on the coach. Jisung pulls his short sleeve up and, under Chenle’s flashlight, you think you might hallucinate again. Milky skin glows under the living room’s artificial light when Jaemin turns it on, it contrasts deeply with his epiderme but your brain would rather make anything up than believe your eyes. A light pink, slowly growing a deeper shade of red, five fingerprints around your friend’s arm mark his skin.

It’s almost two in the morning when your phone rings to the tune of a few texts, screen lightening with a notification from your beloved friend group chat. Body and mind trying its best to rest on your small bed, your eyes travel from your thin, white ceiling to your phone when you bring it up to your face, risking it falling straight on your nose. You quickly swipe a finger on the object and read the last text Jeno sent, something about wanting Jisung to take a shower and rest for the night, quickly followed by your other friends’ words.

There’s a sigh tumbling from your lips, the slight headache taking place right on your temples makes you want to bury your face right under your pillow but your small dorm is hot, way too hot for that. Window wide open, there isn’t an ounce of wind entering your room. You hate the feeling of sweat growing on your forehead, on your back, fabric sticking to your skin just like it did in front of Jeno’s bathroom. You feel drained, so, so drained. It is something you’re used to, especially after a full week of classes and a night with your friend but tonight, something feels different. There’s something off about your room, it doesn’t feel the same. You aren’t being watched, you know that, but you sure feel like it. Oppressed, stuck in such a small space, you’ve been rolling around your bed for minutes now, unable to sleep. After what happened in Jeno’s own dorm, natural instincts kicked in. All tried to find an excuse for what happened to Jisung, saying maybe your friend got the marks from bumping into the furniture, maybe he got these before even entering the room. Poor thing decided to let himself be convinced by the hypothesis thrown at him but, you couldn’t really understand everything else. The change in temperature, the lack of light, the candle blowing itself out, you can’t find a single excuse except maybe, just maybe, your mind’s playing tricks on you.

Your thumbs quickly work to type a message for your friend before you drop your device on your bed. Overthinking, that probably is what’s keeping you from falling asleep. It’s crazy, the number of videos around paranormal things you and Donghyuck watched together and yet, you two didn’t think about the rules before starting this stupid dare. Beating yourself up for not taking it seriously, you now remember how you’re supposed to say goodbye whenever starting a seance of Ouija. How you should not disrespect entities, know and do everything by the rules. You almost text Donghyuck about it but, you fear sounding too crazy.

Instead of Donghyuck, you text Johnny. It’s the urge of knowing more, the curiosity growing in your belly that you did not expect. The tall man’s one of the older students who told you about Yoonoh’s legend during the first party, he studies psychology in your building and you two became quite good friends after a while. He would help little you with administration but also, showed you some spots you still go to, to this day. Good friends, so much so you know he isn’t sleeping at such an hour. And, you don’t feel too guilty when you text him about the legend, almost completely out of the blue. Needless to say, the brunette was a bit taken back by the question. You saw it through his texts, but he quickly told you about all the things he knew and heard around the university legend. The same sentences your friend wrote on a piece of paper, the same Jisung was close to saying fully. A candle, like Jeno unknowingly provided and the young man took to the bathroom. But, there was one thing missing, or rather, two. The one who summons Yoonoh shall write their name on the mirror, clearly and without a mistake. Second, both palms have to be placed on the mirror. Flat, you don’t think you’re allowed to move them while reciting what you’d call a spell, much like on a Ouija board. All the things missing and yet, you still felt a slight shift in Jeno’s dorm, didn’t you ?

Turning your phone off once you wishing Johnny a good night, you find yourself turning the device on again, seconds after. Scrolling through your Twitter timeline and switching between the same two applications doesn’t help at all. Push it away, that feeling of being watched comes back like a bull. You hate it, so much. It’s just like the aftermath of watching a scary movie, you reassure yourself. Like that one time you watched Annabelle and slept with all your plushies outside your bedroom with the light open, right ? Sitting up on your bed, you almost feel ashamed when you turn your light on, quickly looking around your small dorm. Nothing’s there, nothing’s there. The slight fear adds to the sweat collecting on your skin, you feel too hot and yet, a cold shiver runs down your spine when your back meets your headboard. “It’s just a legend.”, you tell yourself out loud. One time, two times. Bringing your knees to your chest, your hands quickly grab at the thin sheet before you pull it towards your body, as if it’ll shelter you from anything paranormal. It’s just a legend, you tell yourself again when your eyes meet your reflection. What a stupid idea, having such a big mirror right in front of your bed. It takes all of your wardrobe, you remember loving it when you first moved in, taking advantage of the size for pictures. But now, it only added to your fear. You don’t know where to look, eyes traveling from your own body to the sides of your bed, the corners of your room. At least, nothing can hide in here, you think you’d see it immediately.

Your father would probably laugh at your face if he saw you right now. See, if your mother might believe in anything paranormal, your father never did and never will. He’d always find a scientific reason for anything weird happening in your house, reassuring you as best as he could. If he was here, what would he say, what would he do ? You ask yourself for a minute, keeping your knees close to your body.

He’d try it, see for himself and prove that the legend was all bullshit.

Calling him at such an hour wasn’t even an option, could you do it yourself ? You wonder, eyes glued on the mirror. You can not deny the slight curiosity rising in your chest, building up in your body. It’s weird, a morbid interest that has been sitting with you since Jisung ran out of the bathroom, since you saw the candle blow out by itself. Curious and adventurous, you always thought you were and, wouldn’t trying it help you prove the invalidity of the legend ?

Legs fall back on the bed, you barely can believe yourself when you stand up on your knees, sinking into your mattress. “Do it and go to bed, surely nothing will happen.”, you coach your reflection. You think it’s a mix of fear, pure curiosity and fatigue. Your body craves sleep and, in your half asleep state of mind, you take advantage of your boost of confidence, pushing away the paranoiac side of your brain. If it was real, more people would talk about it. If it was real, where are all the pictures and videos ? Clumsily stepping out of your bed, your feet touch the cold floor as you drag your body towards your makeup bag, blindly dipping a hand in. An old lipstick would do, right ? Right, you don’t even remember the last time you used this Sephora lipstick. The small candle you probably used twice in your life finds another use tonight as you grab it from your shelf, opening the small lid to clean the small bits of burnt thread.

A few steps is all you need before you stand in front of your mirror, letting your body rest from the little effort you did when you sit down right in front of it. It’s stupid, so so stupid, you think to yourself. Nothing will happen and you’ll tell this very story to your friends the next day, they’ll make fun of you for it for the next week and all will be good.

Taking the protection of your old lipstick off, you inspect it with a pout. A shame, such a pretty color you never really wore before the expiration date. The deep red stick comes up when you twist the bottom and you have to resist the urge of trying it on your lips, just to see. Rather, just like Johnny said, you write your name on the mirror. The paste easily leaves a red trace under the pressure of your fingers, it’s almost pleasing if you did not know how long you’ll take to clean it off after. Long sticks, you write your name clearly on the mirror before closing your old lipstick, leaving it at your side. Next, your fingers fumble inside your bag, trying to find your lighter. It’s one you rarely use but keep with you just in case and you quickly turn it on. The small flame dances under your mouvements, bringing the cold candle near your lighter. It quickly starts burning in your hands and you place the object right between your body and the mirror. There’s a sigh from your lips, you can’t believe it yourself when you lean forward, both palms flat on the cold surface. Above your name in red lipstick, you dare look at yourself. Actually, if you look at yourself, your attention won’t drift for the back of your bedroom in fear. And so, keeping your eyes on your reflection’s, you take a deep breath.

“Mirror, mirror, mirror.” you start off pretty easily, the one word rolling off your tongue without a second thought. Now that you’ve started it, you don’t think you can end everything just like that, you learned everything needs to be closed once started. “Take-...Take my reflection as home.”, you stutter, vision getting blurry for the quickest second. Probably the lack of sleep and fatigue, some water coats your eyes and you blink the teardrops away, finding a clear vision again. You sigh out for a second in an attempt to cool your body down, the same feeling slowly plunges on your shoulders. The one you felt while Jisung was doing the same thing but, this time, you were alone. The change in atmosphere is less abrupt but, you still feel it anyways. The air grows hotter, heavier, dense.

“Show me my deepest, darkest desires.”, you choke out, feeling your palms sweat up, trying your best to resist the urge to whip them. You shift uncomfortably on your spot, pushing away the goosebumps raising on your naked arms again. Wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible, you push all the signs away and continue, though your confidence runs out quickly. “Give to me, take from me.” The small candle flame flickers, it grows taller and, you have to push it away with a knee to prevent it from burning your clothes. Maybe it’s the open window, right ? But here it is again, the feeling of being watched. You hate it, you almost turn around or just, look behind you through the mirror. Instead, a groan escapes your lips, frustrated at yourself, tired, annoyed, scared.

It seems the two sides of your brain disappeared, your thoughts are radio silent, white noise. Fuck it, fuck it. Panic takes over your next actions, it pushes you over the edge. Closing your eyes, your head hangs low and you say the last words. “Yoonoh.”, you start, closing your eyes even more, forcing your eyelids. You feel it, the sudden presence right behind you, you fucking feel it. Your heart picks up right them, you never felt it pump so quickly against your ribcage. Heat burns your cheeks, your ears, your back. Unconsciously, your head hangs lower, shoulders rise up in a protective, natural reaction.

It truly feels like someone’s right here, with you and yet, you refuse to look. What the fuck are you doing, why the fuck are you doing this ? A hiccup, the outline of a cry tumbles from your lips. Ah, how the fear managed to wash over you like the rising tide eating at the shore. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. Teeth tight against each other, your jaw grows sore as you feel the heat of the small candle at your side. Letting your eyes flutter open the slightest bit, it’s when you see the flame violently dance, shaking from different sides that you decide it has to be over, now.

“Yoono- Yoonoh, Yoonoh.”, you blur them out so quickly it’d be funny in another situation, the sounds are barely separated from each other, barely make sense. Your tongue feels heavy, mouth clumsy when you finish the spell of. Your irregular, hard breathing almost keeps you from hearing. Hearing it.

Ah, how long Jaehyun - or Yoonoh - waited and longed for such a moment. Actual hours that felt like years for one of you to summon him properly. And, he has to say, he’s glad you were the one to do it, call him over with your pretty voice, fearful eyes and deadly curiosity. He felt it, the morbid interest peeking in your small body, he knew you would do it the moment you noticed the candle blowing out, he knew you weren’t dumb. See, when Jisung had attempted to summon him, he had almost brought Jaehyun to his mirror, he almost did it. He was so close, so close to it that Jaehyun managed to have a blurry view of the odd scene. Needless to say, the cursed had a good laugh at it but, the anger and frustration he felt at your chicken of a friend still lingered. When was the last time someone summoned him ? Jaehyun does not remember, he doesn’t have any notion of time, he lost it long, long ago. When was the last time he had fun with a foolish human ? He does not remember either but, something tells him he will make it up with you. Jaehyun isn’t alive but, the closest of “alive” he can feel, it’s in moments like this, properly summoned, ready for his deal. Eating your reflection, taking its place easily, the young looking man takes your bedroom in for a second, it’s all in reversed for him who’s stuck in your mirror. Speaking of, he likes it. Big, tall, he notices your name neatly written in what he guesses is red lipstick. Taking your reflection’s place, both his hands lay flat against your palms, kneeled down, he’s significantly taller than you but still, he notices the contourcion in your features, the fear. He loves it, he loves oh so much. The fear, the regret, he adores it all. He knows it’ll be even better once you open your eyes and understand your faith. Mirroring your position, the man doesn’t move, he loves the proximity, how close your face is to his. Wicked smile on his rosy lips, it tugs up at a side, pearly white canine showing, the tip of his tongue rests on the sharp tooth. Oh, he’ll eat you up and savour it just like he did with your reflection.

“Hi, Y/N.”

The reactions, Jaehyun thrives off the reactions. The fear in people’s eyes, the tears, the cries, the shouts, the realisation flashing, twisting people’s features, he fucking gets off of it. He knows what to expect and yet, when you finally open your eyes, barely take in his face and jump back immediately, he chuckles out, he groans happily, excited even. You barely believe it, a man replaces your reflection, he doesn’t follow your movements when you tumble backwards and feel your spine hit your bed, the scream you were about to let out getting knocked out of your lungs. Instead, it’s a loud whine you let out. What the fuck, the actual fuck. Both your hands cover your mouth, Jaehyun notices how shaky they are and cooes, head tilting to the side. What a pretty toy to play with. A knee down, the other leg bent against his chest, the man in the mirror lets his head rest there, patiently waiting for you to finally speak up. Strangely, he’s a patient man, he had some people run away on him, not speak for hours at the shock, even. You think you’re hallucinating, you almost pinch yourself but you know, you’d be awake if this was a dream. The impact of your bed against your back tells you that this, this is real. As much as your brain hates to believe it, takes minutes to process it and still has its doubts, you react just in case. You react out of pure instinct. The bag you use everyday gets pulled next to you and you quickly push a hand inside, looking for one thing only. A young college student needs to protect itself when walking home from late classes, the butterfly knife you wished you’d never have to use finds your fingertips and, when you feel the cold metal, you pull it out.

“Ah-a. Don’t make me mad so quickly, doll.”, the man in your mirror sings, nickname rolling out of his tongue. You think you’re going to throw up, the ball in your throat keeps you from speaking but you don’t let his words scare you. In a swift motion, you open the object and let the blade stand straight towards your mirror. You try, you try your best to seem less afraid, but you’re sure you look foolish to him. And it sure does. A sigh tumbles from the man’s lips, a hand running in his dark brown locks. Thoughts clash and collide in your dizzy, clouded brain but still. He looks...normal almost, if it isn’t for the twisted grin on his lips, the lack of light in his dark eyes.

“Your little knife won’t hurt me.”, he informs you, a small pout on his lips. He stays there, still patiently waiting for you to say something. Though he likes peoples’ reactions, he likes it even better when he hears about their darkest desires, the things that pushed them over the edge, things they graved to the point of summoning him, an entity many deem as fake, a legend. A hand on your floor, you support yourself with it, fearing your body giving out even if you’re already down. Mouth dry, you swallow harshly before finding your tongue again. “What if I break the mirror.”

It’s a threat but oh, it sounds so sweet to the young man. You’re a courageous one, and fierce at that, Jaehyun can already tell and he loves it. Truly, he can not wait ; to break you down little by little, see that same fierceness in your pupils slowly disappear for obedience. There’s a small laugh tumbling from his lips again, cheek rubbing against his knee. “Ouh, she speaks.” Leaning a bit closer to the mirror, the man hums a little, eyes on the sharp blade. “Break it, it won’t do anything to me. Except make me mad.”

For some reason, you believe him. Maybe it’s the daring look he gives you, silently wondering if you’ll have the guts to come closer to him. Clearly, you don’t, staying as far as your bed allows you. Your heart’s still beating too fast against your ribcage, breathing unevenly and you try to focus on your rhythm instead of the man right in front of you. “Come on. Deep breathes, kid.”

There’s something that clicks in your brain at this very moment, your throat seems to unravel and words flow out of your lips, avoiding what a side of your brain still thinks is an illusion. “I- We thought this was a legend, we thought it was fake.”, voice small, you fumble around, hands on your sheet before you find your phone.

“‘it’ and ‘this” has a name.”, the man sternly says, eyes following your mouvements. As said, he saw it all before, the startled look in your eyes when your device went dead in your hand was one he enjoyed a bit too much. “It won’t work.”, he notes in a hum.

“Y-Yoonoh ?”, you hate how it’s a question tumbling from your lips, half hoping one of your friend’s going to erupt out of your closet with a camera. There’s a disappointed sound from him, thumb running on his pink bottom lip, locks falling in front of his eyes. “Haven’t used that name in years. Please, darling. Call me Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun, the sound rings in your ears. Eyes wide, you clench your dead phone around your fingers. “You’re real.”

“As much as you are.”, he’s amused to say the least, lips stretching at a corner. There, he decided to get up, taking advantage of your tall mirror. It’s weird, how he isn’t wearing anything old, dirty, anything you’d think an entity would wear. A black blouse loose on his shoulders, he rolls the fabric to his elbows, what you think are black costume pants on his legs, his shoes you cannot see with the dark fog dancing around him.

“You look...Normal.”, you dumbly let out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. With other clothes, he’d easily pass as another boy in your campus. Then, he chuckles, you’re cute. It resonates in your small room, a deep dimple craved on each cheek. He seems pleased, standing right in front of your body. Hands in his pocket, he leans a bit forward.

“Oh, doll. What were you expecting ? A big, bloody man ? Old and creepy ?” You nod at that, you surely were not expecting such a young looking man, you weren’t expecting him. “You surely didn’t summon anyone else, then. Does that mean I’m your first ? Ah- cute.”

You don’t really know what comes to you, speaking almost freely to this entity and yet, you’re still afraid. There’s no doubt, the dip in your stomach and the sweat on your palms. “I-...I don’t believe in these kinds of things.”, you tell him without a second thought, without understanding how dumb this might sound.

“Oh, really ? And do you, now ?”, Jaehyun decides he likes being at eye level better, kneeling, resting on his heels, he props his chin inside his palm again. Deep, dark eyes, it’s what strikes you the most. They curl lightly inside, outer corners stretched with what you think is a dark eyeshadow. He grins again, though his eyes never gain any light. Your brain surrounders, finally coming around the fact that this, might be real. You stay silent, bringing your knees to your chest again.

“Oh, she does.”, voice stained, gravy, he whispers out after some seconds of silence. “She believes.”, Jaehyun points out before you do with a breathless chuckle. There’s something twisted about him, you only needed seconds to understand how he fed of your initial fear, how he craved the trembling lips, watery eyes and shaky hands. Now, it seems he wants to play.

“Now, you know what comes with summoning me, hm ?”, you nod at that, slowly coming to the realisation that you, have two wishes. Two possibilities. You could make your life so, so much better, right ? But a side of your brain still dismisses all of this as fake, you doubt Jaehyun’s powers for a moment. “Two wishes.”, you tell him and he nods, pleased.

Pearly white teeth glow at his carnal smile, pupils slowly growing until his irises almost disappear. “A deal, unbreakable. You, will be sealed to me. Me, to you. Forever in the nearest mirror until the contract ends, I will follow as your reflection. Two wishes I shall grant you. One you shall grant me. “No” we both cannot use.”, he hums. Dreaded, realization falls onto your shoulders, the next sentence makes it too real. “Now, doll. Tell me. Tell me your deepest, darkest desires.”, he whispers, leaning closer to the barrier the mirror creates.

The groan he lets out almost startles you, stained and deep, it’s almost a moan. “I’ve been waiting for so long.” Head thrown back, locks of his hair fall backwards as he reveals his pale neck. You gulp down, you never thought about it, only summoned him in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I didn’t...I didn’t think about that.”, you whisper out, slightly frightened at what he might be able to do. Jaehyun’s twisted smile never leaves his face, head tilted to the side.

“Come on, kid. I’m sure you can find something.”, he starts. His right thumb pressed on his fingers, one by one. Cracking his knuckles, the sound’s bone chilling for your ears. “You know, you can wish for anything in the world.” Anything ? That’s the issue, you can’t think of anything right now. Unable to look at the entity in front of you, your eyes travel to the side, fixated on the small paint stain on your floor. What do you want ? You can barely think in such a situation, not when his eyes are fixated on you, intense, dark, awaiting. It’s the pressure that makes you speak again, your brain lashes onto the first thought that comes across your mind.

“Popularity.”, you finally blur out, something the main character of a movie would’ve said. What a fool. Popularity, you don’t even need it, you just think it would be new to have people finally looking at you, knowing who you are.

“Popularity ?”, Jaehyun says, eyebrows raised. He seems slightly taken back, amused still. “I’ve had much, much more interesting wishes.”, he says, dark eyes looking down at you. You hate it, the judgement he shows, you know you could’ve wished for anything else. He does not elaborate on that - yet. Rather, he nods. Palms against each other, his last and fourth fingers are laced together, both thumbs, pointer and middle fingers pointed to the ceiling. There’s a dark glow right behind him, the black fog rather around the entity and, before you can change your wish, his eyes plant right in yours. They glow with something different, his voice resonates in your room, it comes out of all the mirrors you own.

“Then, Y/N. So be it !”

That night, you don’t sleep at all. Or at least, you don’t think you do, even when trying your hardest. If Jaehyun doesn’t appear in your mirror again, if he seems to disappear after your wish in an attempt to let you rest, you’re hyper aware of the fact that he’s here anyways. Jaehyun’s presence lingers, the effect he has in your dorm is undeniable, you can not push it away. Air dry, atmosphere tense, he’s everywhere and anywhere. “Forever in the nearest mirror until the contract ends.”, that’s exactly what he said. If he’s watching you sleep ? Is he, himself, sleeping ? Does he even need to ? Questions collide, none of them find an answer and rather, create new ones in their wake.

Fatigue crashes on your body at once when you finally get yourself to blow the candle out and turn the lights of your bedroom off, so does the anxiety. Finally realising what you’ve just done, what you just got yourself into. It barely feels real, minutes go by on the clock and, when you’re not glaring at the numbers casted on your ceiling, you’re fearfully looking at your mirror. For the first time since you moved here, you hate this mirror. From the placement right in front of your bed to the size, you wonder why your campus thought this was a good idea.

At some point, you do have to rest with your head right under your covers, finding a small bit of comfort with the duvet around your body. Maybe you dove back and forth into Morpheus’ arms but, your body shakes itself awake every time, almost giving you a mini heart attack. Soon enough, the lack of light gets replaced with the pale sunlight of the early morning, allowing you to catch a few minutes of sleep or so. Even if it varies with age, scientists say a human is able to live without sleep for around eleven days. You wonder if your body is able to go with a day of sleep. Thinking about it now, sleep deprivation comes with illusions and, you swear you sa-.

“Y/N ?”, Jaemin’s voice rings right next to you, forcefully pulling you out of your too loud and invasive of thoughts. Eyes unfocused on your meal, your attention turns towards your friend in a second. From the silence in your group and the slight smile dancing on Jaemin’s lips, you guess he has been calling for you for a few seconds now. “Oh, sorry. Yeah ?”, you mumble out, placing the wooden chopsticks in your half full box, one you barely touched.

“Dude, not to be rude but you look awful. You good ?”, Jeno, right in front of you, interjects before anyone else can speak. The young man looks genuinely concerned, eyebrows furrowed. You can’t help but notice, his eye bags don’t look too bad for a college student. They’re also, nowhere as bad as yours.

“Yeah. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”, sighing a little, you let your cheek rest against your fist. You could fall asleep right then and there, on this very bench. The sun isn’t too harsh on your skin, no mirrors and, most importantly, you’re surrounded by your friends. Taking an entire picnic table in the middle of your campus, chinese food was bought but, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat more than a few bites, head heavy.

There’s a laugh from Donghyuck, who just finished his food in one go. “Is it because of that dumb legend ?”

“Dumb legend”, something doesn’t feel right when your friend lets the words out so, so carelessly. You can’t deny the shiver that runs down your spine at that moment, though you don’t see any mirrors anywhere close. Another uncomfortable silence takes place in the middle of the table, before Jisung speaks, finally. “I honestly felt weird yesterday night.”, he mumbles out, letting the tip of his chopsticks hit the bottom of his box a few times, like he’s embarrassed to admit it. It doesn’t shock you that he did, that the one who attempted to summon Jaehyun felt his lingering presence, the aftermath of not properly executing a ritual. What take you back, are Chenle and Jaemin’s next words.

“Same. I almost tried that shit myself.”, Chenle says, half joking. In your half asleep state, your eyes widen for a second. Straightening your back, Jaemin beats you at the fast talker. “Dude, same ? I just wanted to try and see what would happen, you know ?”, he says. Your hand wraps around his arm, catching his attention. A little “You too ?” falls from his lips and you can only nod, looking over at Chenle.

So they felt it too. The sudden feeling of not being alone, not being the crazy one. “I thought I was making things up.”, you gasp. You have to say, in another situation, Donghyuck’s face would’ve been funny. He looks so, so disappointed when you start listing the weird coincidence you and your two friends experienced the night prior. From the change in temperature and the feeling of being watched, Renjun and Jeno watch and listen, horrified. “But obviously, I didn’t try it.”, Jaemin adds, and you almost feel like disappearing. “Yeah, yeah...Same. Just didn’t sleep well.”, you mimic, and it seems to convince your friends.

So they felt it too and, you were apparently the only one to follow your feeling, the only one that compulsively tried it out. You hate it, maybe you should’ve texted one of them, called them or even went to one of your friend’s dorms to sleep and you wouldn’t have been in such a situation. What a dumb move, what the slight confidence and curiosity had you summon, you almost let your forehead rest against the old wood. You almost do, if it isn’t for all your friends simultaneously turning their head to the side.

Silence falls yet again in your group as you all look, slightly confused at the young man standing right next to you. Bright red hair, eyebrow slit, bold fashion style, everyone in this campus knows him as Lee Taeyong. See, if schools have their famous clique, the Heather and whatever is the masculine equivalent, you thought it all stopped once in university. You thought wrong. On your first visit, you quickly understood who exactly were the famous and unaccessible guys. Taeyong, was one of them. From his intimidating looks, ever changing hair color, sharp features and deep voice, he had everyone’s attention. Needless to say, you never saw him from so, so close.

“Hey...Looking for something ?”, ah Donghyuck. Always the bold, the lifesaver. Sipping on his bubble tea, he looks straight at the oldest who barely gives him any attention.

“Yes, actually.”, the red haired answers, gaining a few confused looks from your group. Looking at Jaemin for a second, you silently wonder if any of your friends know the Lee Taeyong enough for him to let himself be seen in your company. It seems he doesn’t understand either, quickly raising his shoulders. Catching your straw between your lips, you slowly sip onto the last drop of your juice, curious.

“Y/N ?”, the dance student asks, looking straight into your eyes. It’s strange, how his eyes only manage to make you shift a little on your seat. You have to say, you did not know he knew your name, even was aware of your existence. Sure, him and Johnny were friends but, you doubt your friend told him about you. Still sucking on the last drops, you nod slowly. “I’m hosting a party this Sunday, are you coming ?”

You choke on the liquid. Uh ? What’s going on ? You think it’s the lack of sleep that makes you hear things, but he doesn’t seem to mind and continues. “To celebrate the end of exam season. You’re Johnny’s friend, right ? He’ll send you the address.”

And, just like that, the oldest smiles down at you and leaves. He leaves and lets your friends glare at you for answers, answers you do not have.

Or maybe, you do. Wishing for popularity, you almost forgot about it. Was that how it began, people you barely know inviting you and not your friends to parties ? “What the fuck just happened ?”, asks Renjun, almost turning around to glare at Taeyong who sits with his friends, giving you a quick look.

“I have no idea.”

On any other normal, ordinary day, you would’ve opened your door without a second thought, mechanically almost. Throwing your bag at the foot of your bed before letting your body fall right in the middle of the mattress after a long, long day. But, your life is apparently far, far from ordinary since last night. Practically stuck in front of your dorm’s door, your fist unconsciously clenches the leather strap of your backpack. Knuckles turning white, it’s almost like you’re gripping the last bits of your sanity. Once you enter the four walls of what once was your safe space, you can only guess what is going to wait for you.

Anyways, you cannot sleep right in front of your door, you can’t work on the dirty floor of your hallway, right ? It takes another rush of courage for you to push the handle down and finally allow yourself to enter your dorm. Even if you were ready for anything to happen, the sound of his voice once you close your door makes you jump back against the wood. “Ah, doll. Finally.”, it’s sultry, deep, it follows the look on his eyes when you carefully step towards your bed, second guessing his next actions.

How are you supposed to act when you have an entity living in your mirror ? You wish Google could answer this question, you really do. Quickly glaring at the man in front of you, you’re a lot less scared now that the sun freely enters your bedroom, enough for you to notice a few more details that you might have missed the night prior. Victorian clothes, the tip of his fingers a dark grey as they dance on his jawline, Jaehyun still has the same cocky smile on his rosy lips.

“Had a taste of popularity yet ?”, he asks, though he already knows the answer very well. Non-verbal, you keep an eye on your mirror while letting your bag fall on the floor, awkwardly sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Uh, yeah.”, you let out, fingernails slightly gazing over the skin of your arm. You had a feeling it was him or rather, the wish you had blurred out hours before. It had to be, right ? Sure, Johnny knows Taeyong but you doubt he invites all his friend’s friends. Even, you and Johnny weren’t close enough and barely hung out, keeping your friendship almost strictly virtually. Not to point out the fact that the young man only invited you and did not even have the courtesy to invite the rest of your group.

Finally, you decide to take your shoes off, scooting back to the middle of your bed, wood slightly cracking under your mouvements. Here, you believe you can have your eyes on the entity at any moment, just in case. What a strange situation, you don’t even know if you can work properly in such conditions, let alone take a shower and sleep peacefully.

“Darling, you don’t look too happy with your wish.”, the young man notes, slight amusement dancing in his voice. Apparently, Jaehyun has a habit of squatting to sit down; elbow on his knee, head in his palm, he quickly raises his eyebrows at you. Isn’t it weird ? How he is still here, asking questions like an old - weird - friend shaking up on a friend. Maybe, your view on entities might be flawed, oriented by pop culture but, you sure weren’t expecting anything like this.

“I’m tired.”, you simply say, clearly not prepared to have a casual conversation with the entity you summoned. Picking at a loose thread on your jeans, a sigh leaves your lips the moment you grab onto your phone and notice how, even now, it won’t turn on, nice. You don’t dare point it out, though.

“Oh, kid. I can tell.”, your eyes quickly look up at his words, half in misbelief. Clearly, he doesn’t care for the daggers your eyes are throwing at him, tinted fingers twirling the dense fog around him. “You look close to death. And believe me, I saw my fair share of people on the bridge between our world and everything beyond.”

Your death glare quickly turns to a surprised, taken back one, clearly offended. Apparently, the young man finds amusement in this again, a quiet chuckle tumbling from his lips. How could he laugh, probably knowing he’s the reason you barely slept last night. Fighting with the entity stuck in your mirror, yet another thing you never even thought you’d experience.

“You’re the reason why I look like this ! I-I barely slept tonight.”, your voice audibly quiets down the moment you understand the tone you’re using on a creature you can’t begin to understand, one that has powers beyond your comprehension. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, his smile twists again, he likes them feisty.

“I know.”, he simply says, batting his eyelashes, they’re long, dark. “But you, doll. Do you realise I can not do anything to you ?”, he asks and, you have to look to the side for a moment, Jaehyun continues. “I’m stuck in this mirror, I can not reach you.”

Jaehyun can be lying. He probably is. After all, you aren’t aware of the totality of his abilities, he’s born from a dark ritual, meant to grant any desire, as twisted as they may be. Then again, why would he be lying ? If he could reach you, you think he could’ve tried something the night before. “You can’t ?”, biting down on your lower lip, you ask a bit quietly, raising your shoulders instinctively.

“Actually, I can lean out of any mirror and reach anything at arm length but, it takes a lot of energy out of me.”, Jaehyun says, running a hand in his locks and, you have to say, the sheer thought of seeing him reach out of your mirror has your blood leaving your face, surely a sight you don’t want to witness. You don’t even ask for a demonstration, you’d rather keep the little sanity you still have now, without the image of an entity leaning out to your world. Does that mean he can reach out and grab the bag you left on the floor ? You almost lean down and tug it towards you and away from your mirror but, decide against it. At the very least, you now know that you can sleep without him walking out of your mirror.

“Do you...Do you need to sleep ? You said it took energy.” What comes to you again ? Asking questions so freely, you guess having answers will help you be less scared. Bringing your knees to your shoulders, your body relaxes a bit when you notice the entity looking at you, seemingly taken back by a human asking him questions. Little do you know, Jaehyun doesn’t remember the last time someone wanted to know more about himself, he might as well.

“I do not need to sleep, I feed off people summoning me.”, he simply explained, getting up. You wonder for a second if he isn’t bored in your mirror, it seems like he does not have anything to do in there, you might even pity him for a second. “As long as people summon me, I exist. Once people forget about me, I’ll be gone.”, Jaehyun utters, slowly walking from one end of your mirror to another.

“Isn’t it...Boring in there ?”, you wonder out loud, head tilted to the side. If you saw an entity being vulnerable, for the shortest of seconds, Jaehyun regains his attitude pretty quickly. There’s a laugh, a loud one you fear someone else will hear as he readjusts his rings on his fingers, one by one, before facing you again.

“Oh, no. See, usually, people know what they’re going to wish for, their desires are dark, thrilling. Darling, yours are just plain and uninteresting.”, the entity notes, quietly. The gasp you let out at this is almost comical, though the young man doesn’t even let a reaction out. Eyebrows furrow, you almost have the reflex to throw something at your mirror.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t even think it would work !”, you blur out a bit too loudly, letting your knees fall on your mattress. “I don’t have any dark, twisted desires, it’s not my fault !”, quickly losing yourself in excuses and defenses, you don’t notice Jaehyun’s smile growing wider at your attempts, passing back and forth in your mirror. “Even ! What did the others wish for ?”, you ask, clearly annoyed by the one way argument you just had.

The question seems to pick the entity’s interest, you finally notice the habit he has of facing you when something interests him and, on the contrary, mindlessly passing until you’re done speaking when he isn’t interested at all. “Ah, what did the others wish for ? Doll, I do not think you’re ready to hear humanity’s most twisted impulses.”

Curiosity and pride poked, you quickly blur back, crossing your legs. “I summoned you. I think I can hear it.” Eyes narrow, the young man takes a few seconds to judge, “Don’t you have some class work to do ? Friends to see ? I do not know, church to attend ?” You almost laugh at that, almost forget what time he probably comes from to speak in such a way. “No, I don’t.” It’s probably the slight determination in your voice mixed with the urge to tell his stories that does it for Jaehyun. Though he sighs, it’s almost a content one he has while remembering the endless acounters he had. “What do you think people summon me for ?”, he suddenly asks, starting again with his infinite passing.

“Money, power.”, you start, and he only nods without looking at you. Suddenly, Jaehyun disappears and you almost back against the head of your bed, if it isn’t for his voice coming from the smaller mirror in your dressing table. God, how you feared it was haunted when you first bought it, even if it was straight out of ikea. You guess that now, it is. “Power.” Jaehyun eventually goes to the mirror in your bathroom, seemingly effortlessly, “Money.” You hear his voice resonate, even in this room full of furniture. Finally, he comes back again to your main mirror, the one you summoned him on. “Love.”, a lion in his cage.

Only then, do you notice your name still written in red lipstick, one you should probably clean off if you weren’t so scared of coming close to him.

“Humans are greedy, so greedy to have what isn’t meant to be theirs. They’d go to great length for a twisted illusion, a flawed reality their selfish heart craves.”, he speaks through gritted teeth, it sends a shiver down your spine, makes the atmosphere colder. “I’ve had a prince, once. The second born, far far from the throne.”, Jaehyun starts, a finger tapping on his chin. “Do you know what he wished for, once he had the guts to summon me ?”, the entity suddenly asks, abruptly turning towards you. Taken back, all you can do is shake your head from left to right, hands gripping the fabric of your jeans. He told you, that people summoning him gave him more energy. You wonder if staying in the presence of the one calling him gives him more too, the effects he has on your small dorm are even more noticeable now than last night.

“For his entire family’s death.”, Jaehyun related.

He says this simply, so simply. If he notices the slight shift in your breathing, he doesn’t point it out and continues.

“Such a naïve, naïve boy.”, Jaehyun hums, a slight pout on his lips. “He makes me think of you. He didn’t think it would work. But, unlike you, when he saw me, he knew what he wanted.” There’s a slight pause, where Jaehyun hums, like he’s remembering some details. “‘Tell me your deepest, darkest desires’, I said. ‘Kill them all’, the fool immediately said.” You have to say, you’re a bit captivated by how he reenacts the scene, hands flying in gestures.

“Did you ?”, you ask almost dumbly, eyes wide. It’s like your brain still hasn’t processed everything the entity in front of you can do. It’s only when the entity gives you an empty look that you let a small, “Oh” tumblr from your lips. Obviously, he did. It’s the morbid curiosity, the one that almost has you asking how he did it but, you push it away. You convince yourself that you don’t want to know nor hear it and thankfully, Jaehyun continues before you can open your mouth. “Poor thing, he wasn’t on the throne for long.”, the man notes. For the first time, something dances in his eyes. Something he’s hiding from you has his lips parting in a quiet chuckle, like he’s remembering an old joke.

He’s capable of murder. That, you know now. A dip in your stomach, it’s probably the way he talks about it so nonchalantly that frightens you the most. You don’t doubt, the entity probably saw and experienced a lot. Now, can you blame him ? He’s tied to a ritual, probably forced to grant wishes. You wonder, what would happen if he doesn’t act on them. Is he at fault for all the things he did ? You almost question your own morals.

“What do people ask for the most ?”, you wonder out loud. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind the questions and, the lack of homework, phone and intimacy has you stuck with him. Might as well. The entity seems to pounder for a bit, you think you might go crazy only with the way he keeps walking back and forth in your small mirror.

“Love.”, he finally tells you, never stopping his steps. “But it’s never true love, it’s never as perfect as they pictured it.”

So, he’s capable of forcing feelings on someone ? For the nth time, you wonder exactly what he’s capable of, where his powers stop. And here you were, asking for popularity. Sure, it could help in the long run but, you could’ve asked for so much better. But, you still have a second wish, right ? It’s there, suddenly, that you remember why you and your friends tried to summon him in the first place. Eyes wide, you move a bit closer to the mirror, though keeping some distance.

“Is it true ? Eric ?”, you ask suddenly. It’s all because your friend talked about him, all because of a dumb rumor he heard.

“Eric ?”, Jaehyun needs a few seconds to place the name again, furrowed eyebrows relaxing after a moment. The name seems to bring some discomfort into his features and, though it disappeared after a moment, you still notice it. Silent for a moment, you press on anyways. “That he summoned you, it’s true, isn’t it ?”

Oh, how you probably shouldn’t have asked. If Jaehyun is able to control his emotions, his features turning cold, unreadable, the effect he has on your dorm can not go unnoticed. Air cold, dense, you don’t take long to understand his experience with Eric probably was not the greatest. But again, isn’t Jaehyun a powerful entity ? Why would his reaction be so radical to such a normal human ?

“He did.”, the young man finally says, cold, abrupt.

Is he the reason why Eric went at the top of his class ? It probably is but, what you’re most curious about is why exactly, the old college student turned so...weird. Sure, you don’t doubt the experience of successfully summoning a demon might...change someone but, it seems Jaehyun didn’t have him in his heart either. Did something happen between them ? Did Eric not grant Jaehyun’s final wish ? Were the rumors true ? Your brain’s deciding between asking and dropping the subject and, as you’re about to open your mouth again, the entity beats you at it.

“Shouldn’t you go take a shower ? Rest early tonight.” and, just like that, he disappears from your mirror.

People have told you many times.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

You should not be here, at all. You’re supposed to have a major class right at this moment. But, a teacher being sick and a lack of substitute teachers appeared like a sign of the universe to you. See, Jaehyun’s abrupt disappearance left you with more questions, questions that only duplicated the moment you finally took a well deserved shower - after covering your mirror with a towel, just in case.

What happened with Eric ? Probably the last thought before sleep knocked you out in mere minutes. And really, the universe wouldn’t have made it so easy to find him if they didn’t want you to search, right ? A few texts here and there, Johnny yet again managed to help you more than he can imagine. Eric’s address was sent to you fifteen minutes after your class was officially cancelled and, you took the chance. Faking having some questions about both his major and job, Johnny didn’t ask any more questions.

And here you were. Right in front of Eric’s building.

The richer, nicer era, one you never visited before. After all, you don’t know anyone living there. Pretty, tall and new buildings, small parks, high end stores. One can only dream of living in such a nice era a year after leaving university.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”, you think again. In front of the old university student’s building, glass doors pushed open to reveal a pristin, clear and minimalist lobby. “But satisfaction brought it back.”, you tell yourself.

What are you doing here ? You don’t really know. All you can really understand and form in your fogged up brain is that Eric, him, might be the only one able to understand you at this very moment. Maybe he has answers to the questions you have and are too afraid to ask. What could go wrong ? A lot, actually. But you -once again - decide to act on impulse rather than think about it. It’s a slight confidence you have that goes to your head, fogs any other rational thought.

The lobby’s empty, calm. An abstract beige and white painting hung at your right, you immediately notice the ceiling high mirror on your left. Your reflection, it’s almost weird to see it. It has you doubting, doubting that this, is even your image here. But, you push the thought aside quickly, walking towards the little letter boxes. Kim Eric, Kim Eric. You don’t take too long to find his name tag, right next to his apartment number. Right at the top of the building, you can’t even begin to imagine the price he must’ve payed.

Nonetheless, you make your way towards the single elevator. There, another mirror. You might think Eric was just a weird kid, that Jaehyun never had anything to do with this. After all, wouldn’t he want to live somewhere without mirrors if the rumors were true ?

Facing the metal doors, you turn away from the mirror, head moving to the calm tune of the metal box. Unconsciously avoiding the glass yourself, you’re standing closer to the opening than usual.

What you do not see, is your reflection not following your movement, glaring into your skull.

That weird feeling of being watched again, isn’t it ? It creeps up your spine and you try your best at pushing it aside, forcing your brain to focus on the quiet melody. A small part of your brain fears, if you turn around right now, would Jaehyun be facing you ? He’s everywhere, you’re aware of that and yet, decide to cover this truth.

Thankfully, the elevator doesn’t stop until the very last floor, letting you escape the small cubicle before you can feel too uncomfortable, before the courage wears off and has you overthinking. And, only then do you really realise what you are doing. Visiting someone you don’t know at all, only heard rumors about only because the two of you happened to summon the same entity.

Should you really be doing this ? It seems Jaehyun doesn’t have Eric in his heart, wouldn’t he be mad ? But, he said he couldn’t do anything to you, you just have to do it, for closure. Do it, for closure-. Before your brain can stop you, you take the few steps towards Eric’s door, 165 written in golden letters on the pale wooden door. Clean carpet, big windows letting you have a breathtaking view on the area, you wonder for a second time how much money he must make to afford this place. Bringing your fist up to the door, you knock a first time.

Silence. A kind of deception slowly takes over your body but, you guess you should’ve thought about it, maybe he’s working or, just out, like a regular citizen.

Pure silence falls and you now wonder if you did not misread the signs, if you really should be here. Head hanging low, you’re almost about to mentally beat yourself up before your eyes fall on it. Covered by a thing, white sheet, something’s placed right against the wall. Neatly packed, you for a second think it’s a set of paintings. But, it’s the smallest of seconds, you don’t need more to understand right then.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”, you think for the nth time, but you act on it, yet again. Eric isn’t here anyways, no one would notice. Slightly leaning down, you take the sheet between your fingers and lift it up. Paintings, thin pieces of wood, it could’ve been anything but hélas, covered under the fabric is what you feared most. Different mirrors, different sizes, obviously from different rooms. There’s a sigh that tumbles from your lips, are you going to end just like this ? Scared of mirrors, avoiding them ? It’s just when you get back up that you think your heart might jump out of your body.

“Excuse me ? What are you doing here ?”, deep, breathless voice comes from the stairs you didn’t even notice. Jumping away from the door, a hand lands on your beating heart, a soundless gasp at the border of your parted lips. Eric stands clueless.He’s an average sized man, clearly out of shape, slender eyes with a prominent european nose. He does not know you but you, on the other hand, saw pictures of him. If he looked weird a few years ago, it might be worse now. If you look out of place with your regular, broke college student clothes, he does even more. Dirty, washed out and oversized t-shirt, long, brown greasy hair, he grips the iron next to him. He took the stairs, all the way to his apartment to avoid the mirror, it strikes you there. Slight anxiety takes over you, you didn’t expect him to be like this, you didn’t expect to feel so...off.

“I-uh. Eric ?”, you ask, already knowing the answer. Slightly taken back, you let the way to his door free for him to walk, not knowing how to act towards him. He, still seems distant, rightfully so. Wavy, dry hair brushed out, his runs a hand in it before fishing for his keys.

“Are you selling something ? I’m not interest-.”, he mumbles. You notice the bags under his eyes, dried lips. He almost looks sick, he acts like an old person in a young body.

“Oh, no ! My name’s Y/N. We’re from the same university.”, you tell him. He doesn’t look so convinced, slowly walking towards his door. Even when he puts his key in, he still has an eye on you, like he fears being robbed right there.

“Uh ? And what do you want ?”, the man groans out. He has you taking a step back again. How are you supposed to tell him exactly ? Shit, you didn’t think about that, at all. A “Hey, we summoned the same entity !” surely won’t do it. The lack of words from your side seems to annoy him quite quickly. Taking a step in his apartment, he immediately used the door to shelter himself, only letting his upper body be seen. He doesn’t look happy, at all. And yet, he has such a pretty apartment, right ? It’s only when he turns his light on that you see the state of the inside. All windows closed and blocked, clothes, empty boxes of instant noodles on the floor alongside a bunch of papers, it looks like a madman’s home. Even his home gives you weird vibes and suddenly, a part of you doesn’t want to be here. anymore.

Eric notices your wandering eyes and, it’s here he has enough, closing his door a little more. “Listen, Y/N. I don’t have your time right now, so-.”

For a second time, you cut him off. “It’s about Jaehyun.”, you blur about without another thought.

His annoyed look turns frightened in seconds. The name seems to bring back a lot, things you don’t doubt he was trying to get away from. Glossy eyes wide, chapped lips parted, he looks like he’s about to have a heart attack, or like he just saw a ghost. Fuck, what did you just do ? He caughts a bit but, he isn’t as good as the entity when it comes to hiding his emotions. “I-I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just a dumb legend anyways.” Oh, he’s trying to deny, deflect. The moment he’s about to close the door, you act quickly and let your shoe block the door.

“I did it too.”, you tell him, almost breathless. It almost feels good, to say it but, it lasts for mere milliseconds. Clearly, it doesn’t feel as good for the oldest. You think he might cry when the words process at this very moment, a sound tumbles from his lips. However, no words are said. His eyes fall upon the sheet covered glass at his shoes and, before you can understand, he manages to shut his door in your face. He sounded paranoiac, looked like a maniac. Is that what happens when dealing with Jaehyun, will you end up like this ? Surely, he was the reason why the old university student turned this way, that’s what the rumors say.

“Leave !”, he shouts and, if anyone’s in the second apartment, you’re sure they can hear.

“But, Eric, I just wan-.”, you try, desperate.

Curiosity killed the cat.

“Right now !”

Curiosity killed the cat.

“You vazey, you’re an absolute idiot.”

Unlike last night, you don’t think twice before opening the door to your dorm, almost slamming the iron knob right on your thin wall. Just like you thought, Jaehyun barks at you the moment the door’s closed, barely waiting for the lock to click. He knows, he knows you tried to get answers from Eric, there’s no denying it.

“You were there.”, it’s a statement more than a question, one you throw at the same time you do your bag, sliding on the floor before it abruptly stops when it hits your mirror. If that’s even possible, the entity gets closer to the border between his world and your own, gritted teeth has him speaking lowly. “I told you, forever in the nearest mirror.” A dark promise, one you now understand the meaning of. He’s linked to you, whether you want ot admit it or not, it has your body covered in goosebumps.

“You shouldn’t have gone there.”, he continues, sighing heavily through his nose. Clearly, he didn’t think you would visit the old college student, let alone try to question him and tell him about your experience. “He’s mad, he’s dangerous.”, the entity continues. And that’s what does it for you. Abruptly turning towards the mirror, it’s like you quickly forget about the power he holds.

Anger bubbles up in your chest, it pushes words out of your mouth, “You’re the one who drove him mad !”

If you fear the entity, you do not show it. Heart pounding, palms sweaty, you keep a straight face. You’re ready for anything and everything. He might scream, make your room even colder, use his powers but, you don’t expect his reaction. He laughs, he laughs almost maniacally. So close to the mirror, the entity shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning closer until you think he might come out.

Jaehyun could’ve said many things at this moment, he could’ve said the truth. But, unbeknownst to you, his feelings take over. He’s a creature of anger, pitiness, even.

“He knew the deal.”, he spits out. Voice going deeper, you fear it might turn inhuman.

“And so, you decided to drive him mad ? He looks miserable.”, you bark back. You’re too far gone to stop yourself right now. The pounding of your heart rings in your ears, it clouds your brain and has you repeating the same sentence again and again but, you never voice it. Would he do the same to you ?

“I could’ve done much, much worse, doll.” It’s a whisper, like a promise of things he might just do to you if you keep acting in such a way. The nickname doesn’t have anything sweet in it, it’s harsh, a slap in the face. Swallowing harshly, you keep your eyes on the entity, faking a lack of expression, a lack of fear. Clearly, he likes it, a small smirk tugging at his lips but nothing shines in his eyes. If you thought he was normal the night before, if you pitied him hours ago, it’s quite hard now that he looks even more twisted than Eric.

“And what, exactly ?”, you dare to ask, keeping your voice firm. Jaehyun’s smile only turns wider, head leans to the side. A few locks of his hair fall in front of his piercing eyes, he judges your reactions.

“Come closer.”, he starts, keeping his voice quiet. “And I’ll tell you.”, the entity gets right back at you, daring light in his eyes. You know, you know he can reach out at a certain point but you take a step closer anyways. Your heart starts pumping faster, threatening to burst out of your ribcage, it creates white noise, blurs your eyes, restricts your air ways.

“She’s a daring one.”, Jaehyun notes, twisted smirk. He’s close, so close. You’ve never been this close to him, ever. If he was out, you would’ve been able to feel the air he blows out on the bridge of your nose, if he wasn’t an entity, you’d be able to see the colorful particle in his eyes. His tongue rests on his pointy canine, lightly traveling to his lip.

“I saw it, the pity in your eyes.”, he starts, a sort of anger in his voice but, you do not flinch. Keeping your eyes on his, you blink slowly, trying to calm your cardiac rhythm, breaking slowly through your nose. “Do you think I’m all alone, here ?”, Jaehyun asks. But, he does not even need an answer. By the way your eyebrows furrow for a second, he understands you never thought about it.

“Ah, stupid fucking kid.”, he growls lowly, you stay silent. “Do you remember the prince I told you about ?” This time, you simply nod, remember when the young looking man told you that he didn’t even stay on the throne for too long. Jaehyun laughs again, the sound lightly resonating in your room, coming out of the different mirrors you own. “He’s trapped with me, here. I’m not alone.”, Jaehyun explains and, the light that flashs in his eyes tells you that he isn’t lying. Yet, you question it. Mouth agape, eyebrows furrow, the attempt you made to calm your heart fails. “That can’t be.”

“You seem to underestimate my powers, doll.”, and finally, like he’s letting you breathe a bit more, he leans back. He giggles there, both his hands behind his head as he lets his torso fall backwards. You’re not even able to form a proper sentence in your mind and, when he senses the lack of words, the entity continues, unbothered by the reality of his actions. People wouldn’t willingly go in the mirror, if that was even possible, right ?

“I know what you’re thinking. Ah- it’s so easy to read you, darling. Is it possible for a human to join me ?”, he voices your question without you having to. “You can but, only for a few minutes. If you don’t leave quickly enough, you’re trapped here.” It’s the realisation crashing over you that makes you take a step back. Finally, when your brain goes on high alert, when your body tenses and your senses heighten at the risk, you find your words again. “No one would willingly do that.”, you blur out, trying to find a loophole somewhere. Surely, he’s bluffing, trying to scare you, right ?

“Doll, you seem to forget that I have a wish too.”, his words have you dizzy but, your body isn’t able to back away again, forced to stay close enough, too close. “It’s simple, really. I wish for a dance and, they have to. When the dance’s over, they rarely have time to run back to their little, real world.” The brunette chuckles again, deep, gravy, bone chilling.

“You don’t believe me ?”, Jaehyun continues, faking being hurt. He leans forward again, captivating you with his deep eyes. “Do you want to see them all ?”, he asks, lips in a wide smile. He could very much do this to you too, would he ? You shake your head from left to right quickly, fear clear in your eyes, he traps people. God only knows how many. You think you might choke on a cry right then, you don’t think you’ve ever been so scared in your life. Trapped, he seems to do it without a second thought, without an ounce of regret. What did you get yourself into ?

“Good. Good girl.”, he cooes. “Know your place.”

For a second time, his face’s too close to you. Having you so close probably gives him more energy and, as the seconds pass, you think you might pass out on the floor. You even think he might lean out of the mirror, like he said he could but, before you can open your mouth again, say anything that could help your case, he beats you at it. “Didn’t they tell you to be careful ? Curiosity killed the cat.” and just like that, he disappears again, you fall into your knees.

In the middle of your first year in university, you found out you didn’t really like frat parties. But see, if they can give you a reason to avoid your dorm, you’ll take anything. Anything, really.

Loud music blasted through the house, a crowd of people you barely know, you don’t even think you ever saw this place without the party, multicolor lights. You also think you already wore this dress for another one of their parties, earlier on your first year but, you didn’t really think twice about your clothes today. You’ve been here for an hour at best and, the only thing you did was drink a bunch of water, checking your phone every now and then. Unfortunately, none of your friends were able to make it and, a good part didn’t want to come as they weren’t even invited.

Leaving you all alone in a party full of popular people you never ever spoke to before. You didn’t really blame them. But anyways, wasn’t that what you wanted, popularity ? This is part of it, right ? Fuck, how can you hate something you wished for ? How can you hate it so, so much. Maybe you should leave ? You don’t even like the music they’re playing or the drinks they’re mixing together. You even thought about paying for a hotel but, you know Jaehyun wouldn’t have any difficulty finding you again, he’s attached to you.

Maybe you should take all your mirrors out, just like Eric did but again, you still have a wish. He still has one, you can’t see yourself leaving in fear for the rest of your life. Dodging every mirror, acting like a maniac. It’s when you’re in deep thought, leaning against the kitchen counter that Johnny decides to join you.

“Hey, Y/N ! You made it !”, the tallest has to speak loudly over the music, holding a red cup in his hand. His everlasting smile on his face, he managed to get a tired one out of you. “Yeah…”, you start, taking a sip of your drink, it surely didn’t help your dry throat. You’re not even having fun here, you look like you’re waiting for someone who’s never going to come. “I didn’t even know Taeyong knew me. I was a bit surprised when he invited me.”, you blur out, trying your best to make a conversation.

“Actually, he told me he saw you a few times and thought you were cute.”, your friend says, a cheeky smile on his lips. The confession has heat burning your cheeks for a moment, lips parted. Taeyong ? The Lee Taeyong ? You think your friend’s pulling a prank on you but you know him enough, Johnny wouldn’t be the type to do that.

“I-. Wait, really ?”, you ask, dumbfounded. It’s the effect of your wish, you know it but, you clearly weren’t prepared for that. Do people like you now...Because of this ? Without knowing you, without ever talking to you ?

“Yeah, really ! You should go talk to him.”, you’ve known Johnny to be kind of the Cupid of his friend group and, he takes the role quite well. Pointing at a corner, you can distinguish one of their couches, occupied by Johnny’s friend group. Before you even know it, a gentle hand’s on your shoulder, helping you through the crowd, sweaty bodies dancing mindlessly, such a cliché.

You can’t even find a way to escape. Finally, you’re right in front of the said group. Boys and girls, all sat on the couch, some on the others, you would want to sit on someone in such heat. Some girls are hanging out with them too, flashing you a nice smile as you awkwardly stand next to Johnny, like a lost puppy.

“Look who I found !”, Johnny happily shouts, catching everyone’s attention. Then, you decide you hate it, too many eyes on you. A girl you don’t even know the name of sits straight and waves, “Y/N ! It’s nice to see you, it’s been so long !” Do you know her ? Her face’s vaguely familiar but at best, you might have seen her during a first year party. You hate it, entirely. All you can do is nod slowly as you feel your heart pics up, your palms grow sweaty. Taeyong’s in the middle, legs spread on the couch, he has one of his friends moving from his seat to give you some space. “Here, sit !”, he invites with a warm smile.

What can you do ? You obey, sitting down next to the young man. You need to sit down anyways, feeling the heat crash over your body, it makes your head light, your mouth dry. You sit in fear you’ll pass out. You can almost feel the energy being drained out of you. Maybe popularity isn’t for you. The music seems to fade away, just as your heart pumps in your ears again. It rings, something familiar now. Has the room always been this size ?

“Y/N ? What game do you prefer ?”, from the tone Johnny has, it’s probably the second time he’s asking you this and, before you can even find another solution or, the strength to socialise, you get up. He flashes you a look, Taeyong a curious one you can’t really see as he’s behind you.

“Can you please hold my drink, I need to go to the bathroom.”, you blur out.

“Oh, sure !”, always the nice one. Poor Johnny, you almost shove your glass in his hand, slashing some water on his fingers as he covers the opening. “First door on your right when you take these stairs.”, he says.

If you could, you would’ve ran to the bathroom. Your steps are stopped when you cut right through the dancing crowd, using your elbows to make your way. It’s crazy, how big their living room is and still, you manage to feel strapped, like the walls keep moving away from you, making it impossible to reach the stairs, the escape. You think someone drops a bit of their drink on your dress but you don’t really care at the moment, walking with quick steps when finally, you’re out of the circle.

Running up the stairs, your hand lands on the wet patch the unknown drink left at your side, nice.You don’t know what it is, it sticks to your fingers, probably sugary. Finally, the music seems to fade naturally when you reach the first floor, pushing the door of the bathroom without a second thought. As said, you’ve been to parties before, you know bathroom can be...unlocked and busy. Thankfully, no one’s there and you’re able to lock yourself in the bathroom, completely sheltering yourself.

Turning the light on, you quickly find the sink, hands gripping the border before you lean forward a bit, opening the faucet.

“Popularity isn’t for me.”, you tell yourself, eyes set on your reflection. Forehead sweaty, your makeup isn’t as good as it was when you left your dorm. Even, is it your reflection ? It seems you can’t even find a safe place anymore. You can’t help the tears that gather in your eyes, small transparent pearls threatening to fall at any moment, you can’t even trust your own reflection. Something grips at your throat, makes it hard to breathe and all you can do is let your head fall down, trying to calm yourself by running your hands under the cold water.

You can’t even go back to your dorm, not wanting to see Jaehyun. It’s a mixture of fear and something else you can’t really identify, something that makes you regret acting in such a way. It’s crazy, how you almost thought things were going well for an actual entity you summoned. You guess you let things go to your head, forgetting the supernatural aspect of it all. You don’t think it has ever been so hard to see a future for yourself, so hard to find a solution to a problem, you feel stuck.

Between the four walls of a foreign bathroom, you finally let a sob tumble from your lips. You unsuccessfully try and muffle it against your wet palm but, it all makes it too hard to breathe. Harshly turning the faucet off, you desperately try to find a rhythm.

“Hey, kid.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Taking a step back from the sink, you don’t even look up. A voice you know too well by now but, this time is doesn’t sound as harsh. Did he really have to appear so suddenly ? He didn’t help your breathing and you make that known when you glare up at the entity.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”, Jaehyun says. There’s something soft in his voice, something you surely are not used to. The mirror is much smaller here, you can only see from his upper body and has you focused on his face. Again, he’s good at hiding his emotions, cold face contracting with the tone in his voice.

“It’s okay.”, you finally breathe out, not wanting to fight or scream right at this moment. You don’t think you have the energy for, at least.

“Popularity really isn’t for you.”, he laughs and for once, it’s meant for you to laugh too. There’s a tired sigh tumbling from your lips, far from a laugh.

“What are you doing here ?”, you ask, though the answer is obvious.

“I told you, forever in the nearest mirror.”, he repeats and unlike yesterday, it doesn’t sound like a threat, more like a silent promise that he’ll watch over you. “Come closer.”

And you do, a lot less fearful. Separated by the sink, you stand at its edge.

“Don’t freak out, doll.”, the entity warns and, before you can even ask him why, he leans out. He leans out of the mirror. Though you don’t freak out, like he asked you, it still takes you by surprise. Mouth agape, the way he effortlessly lets his upper body detach from the mirror is hypnotising. He almost looks human, if it isn’t for his glass skin. The light of the bathroom reflects on the highest point of his cheek, you’d have to look a few minutes to understand if his skin’s pale or if he’s slightly translucide. Faded beauty marks and light freckles, you’d almost be able to count them.

“There, good.”, he coes softly when you blink slowly. Jaehyun looks so normal, like you’d be able to pick a fallen eyelash on his skin. From here, you can detail his glossy hands, the grey tint at the tip of his fingers and before you can search for any trace of veins on his arms, he cups your cheeks.

Skin cold, his hands a light touch like he isn’t sure if he should be touching you. The change in heat has you flinching for a second before relaxing, welcoming the cold trail his thumbs let under your tired eyes.

“Breathe with me, I don’t want to see you having a panic attack.”, he explains. And, you do. Soft breath falls at the bridge of your nose, drying the small drops of water the faucet left on your skin. Through his nose, out his mouth, the entity takes the time and waits for you to match his rhythm.

Jaehyun, Yoonoh, the entity you summoned is helping you calm down in the middle of a party you hate, that’s the thought you have to push away before finally, feeling yourself getting back to normal. Your heart regains somewhat of a normal rhythm, it stops ringing in your ears and most importantly, nothing restraints your throat. Then, you look up at the entity, big brown eyes checking up on your features, only then do you notice the small dots of gold near his pupil.

You back away.

Taking a step back, you detach your eyes from his own, he looks more alive out of his mirror and you’re not sure you want him so close. Or maybe, it’s the fact you do want him a bit closer that scares you. After all, he managed to calm you down easily, he’d almost pass as a normal student.

“Thank you.”, you manage to let out after swallowing down. After a small nod, he lets his body get swallowed back into the mirror. It’s crazy, how his appearance changes the slightest bit, enough that he loses the human like je ne sais quoi that made him familiar, friendlier almost.

“It’s alright, doll. I’ve had my fair share of people to calm down but usually, it’s during our first meeting.”, he jokes a bit, regaining his attitude when he’s sure you’re alright.

There’s a silence, a moment when you let the music come to your eyes, the setting sinks in your brain again. Johnny and his friends are probably waiting for you, you don’t even know how long you’ve been there. On the other side, Jaehyun takes a look at the bathroom you locked yourself in, sighing a bit at the music loudly blasting, making the walls vibrate every now and then. You now know how quick Jaehyun is to speak and, for the first time, you catch him, speaking at the same time.

“I should go home.”

“You should go home.”

“Nice shirt.”

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun. You need to stop doing that.”, jumping to the side, you almost drop the towel you were using to dry the wet ends of your hair.

Minutes after Jaehyun left the bathroom, you did the same. The party wasn’t an interesting one to you and so, you faked being sick to Johnny and his friends. Needless to say, many were disappointed for a reason you couldn’t really understand. At least, Johnny insisted on driving you to your dorm and soon enough, you found your safe space again.

Strangely, Jaehyun didn’t make his presence known when you entered the room, you were almost used to having him waiting with a sarcastic sentence at the tip of his tongue. Nevertheless, you hung a towel on the mirror of your bathroom and took a quick shower, slipping into freshly washed pyjamas so quickly you almost fell down.

Apparently, the young man decided to appear right when you stepped out of your bathroom, almost knocking your knee against some furniture. Easing yourself on your bed, you let your body at the edge, right in front of your mirror.

“But you always look like a cute deer caught in headlights. That’s the saying, right ?”, he asks, sitting down in front of you. You nod a bit, a slight smile on your face. “Thank you again, for earlier.”, setting the towel aside, you let your legs dangle. You should probably try and sleep but, it seems Jaehyun isn’t thinking about leaving right now. The entity doesn’t answer, simply nodding, almost not wanting to address the gesture. “I thought you left.”, you tell him, being truthful for the first time.

“I was just mad.”, Jaehyun almost says, he almost voices his own emotions but decides against it.

“You shouldn’t have gone to his house.”, he says again. But, unlike yesterday, he doesn’t sound as mad, as angry. You sigh anyways, he sounds like a parent scowling you, but you guess he’d be too old for that. But somehow, you know he isn’t really wrong. Eric didn’t even speak to you, nothing good came of it. Rather than voicing your opinion, you let your eyes travel to the side, avoiding the man’s gaze.

“He’s dangerous.”, he starts, playing with his rings again. If you were in his head, you’d be able to witness the dilemma he’s facing. However, Jaehyun picks rather quickly. “Do you remember what I told you ? What people wish for the most ?”, he asks. It’s funny, Jaehyun always sounds like he’s questioning you, making sure you listen to him. “Love.”, you easily answer, attention picked.

“That was Eric’s second wish. But as I told you, it’s never true love, its a fake emotions, I can’t- I can not force such a powerful feeling onto someone. It always ends up badly. When Eric’s “dream girl” - like he called her - didn’t love him like he wanted her to, he got mad.” By now, you know Jaehyun’s behaviour quite well. When he didn’t show much emotion while telling you the story of this unknown prince, the entity looks uncomfortable enough when thinking about Eric. Eyebrows raised, there’s a shiver that runs down your spine. The young man didn’t even say it and yet, you already know where it is going.

“He tried to kill her one night.”, he starts. For an entity who saw, experienced so much, you think it’s how fresh it all is that has him showing so much emotion. Someone capable of murder, that’s who you visited without a second thought. The behavior, it all started to make sense. Your mouth hangs open for a moment before you find your words again. “Is she- Is she alright ?”, you ask first.

“She was, I do not know her whereabouts as of today.”, he continues, letting one of his rings roll between his fingers. “I couldn’t let him do it. I used my wish to teach him a lesson, showed him things that went straight through his thick skin. He managed to escape in time but he left me with his.”, before you can ask, the entity lifts his right sleeve a bit more. On his arm, the young man has a wound. Almost unrealistic, the cut doesn’t have a trace of blood but it seems forever frozen in this state, never healing. “Said I’d make him pay and that was enough to install fear, forever.”

The paranoia, the look in his eyes at Jaehyun’s name, everything added up. You almost feel like throwing up, you knew humanity had its vermin but never, never did you think they’d be so...close. You never thought you’d see the entity with morals. You’re glad he explained the reasons behind his actions, behind his behaviour.

“I didn’t- I didn’t know you would get hurt.”, you tell him, almost whispering.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”, the entity simply replies. He isn’t wrong, reminding you of centuries he had before meeting you. You don’t even know his full name, or his story.

“Then tell me about yourself.”, you blur out, not thinking twice. For the first time, Jaehyun is taken back, blank expression on his face. The entity takes a few seconds to process your words and you continue, taking over the conversation for the first time. “Do you ever tell your story ?” He probably never does, you wonder if it’s even a question to ask. Maybe too dark, too painful, you wonder for a second if the question won’t make him mad.

Finally, when the young man regains his attitude, he raises his eyebrows for a second, “People never ask me for it. I told you, humans are greedy creatures. They use me for their two wishes and try to forget about me.” There’s something sad in his words. Now, you understand. He probably feels used, has to do people’s dirty work, grant without a word to say. Somehow, it manages to tighten your heart. Sure, a side of your brain reminds you of the entity he truly is but, another one can not help but feel sad, sad for the life he isn’t even leaving. “Tell me, I want to know.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jaehyun might feel the smallest spark of happiness. To be cared for. You’re probably asking out of politeness but god, does it feel nice to have someone asking you about your story. “Are you sure ?”, he asks anyways, fainting some arrogance, some detachment while he still can.

“I was a human once, cursed.”, the entity starts, almost nonchalant. Eyebrows raised, you can’t help the slight gasp that tumbles from your lips. “Cursed ?” Scooting closer to the edge, the fear of being close to him slowly disappears.

He nods a bit, before fully getting into his story, one he never really talked about to anyone else, now that he thinks about it. “Was born a long time ago, there’s nothing interesting about my life, really.”, like he’s recalling some old, old memories, he looks up for a moment, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You don’t ask when he was born, letting him continue without stopping him. “We’d get married quite young at that time.”, he notes.

“I was 23 and had a few choices but there was this girl.”, Jaehyun continues and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this, slight smile on his face, it’s clear he’s remembering fond memories. “Pretty brunette, her name was Haseul. We were in love.” Love, something you for a moment thought the entity wasn’t capable of. Something flashes in his eyes, regret, probably. “We were supposed to get married but not everyone was happy with it. From the choices I had, there was this young lady, her name was Agnes.”, the young man says her name with venom on his tongue, you can now only imagine what she did.

“Agnes was supposedly madly in love with me and, when she found out me and Haseul were already talking about marriage, she did this.”, it’s like even after centuries, he isn’t quite able to put words on it. A deep sigh, the entity needs some seconds to find his words, leaning back on his hands. “It was rumored that she was a witch, I never really believed it.” Can you blame him ? You didn’t believe in him either, only days ago. Hands on the border of your bed, you lean a bit closer, captivated by the story. “What did she do ?”

“I don’t really know how but, she used black magic to curse me here. Forever stuck, if she couldn’t have me, no one could.”, he says, almost nonchalant. He probably accepted his faith long ago but for you, who just listened to his story, you have something tightening around your neck. “He was a human too, once. Loved by the wrong person, punished for loving and giving himself to someone else. He ended up stuck for it, a faith you’d never wish upon anyone, not now that you know all the things he saw and experienced. Jaehyun didn’t even deserve it, you think it’s what saddens you the most.”

“Kid, are you alright ?”, Jaehyun asks, his head to the side. Fuck, you didn’t even have a second to hide the water building up at the corner of your eyes. Quickly using your shirt to dab the droplet away, you shake your head.

“Y-Yeah. It’s just...I didn’t know you were human before.”, you start and, he laughs a bit. He tells you he’s used to it, many misjudged him as a demon. “You didn’t deserve this.”, you mumble, feeling the lump in your throat grow as you force yourself to keep a straight face. It’s probably the lack of sleep and the recent events that have you on your nerves.

“And, can’t you wish to get out ?”, you ask. Somehow, god knows why, your brain tries to find a solution, probably the humanity in you speaking up. “Can’t I wish for you to get out.” This seems to make the young man laugh, few locks falling in front of his eyes, he has to use his hand to push them back. “Ah, doll. You’re cute. Would you ever do that ?”, he asks, laughing. You don’t answer, would you ? Conflicted and yet, something tells you that you would. You would, because you’re a good person, right ? You wouldn’t want someone stuck in such a way, you wouldn’t let someone innocent suffer if you could get them out. Is Jaehyun innocent ? All the things he did, he had to. But again, he did trap people with him, didn’t he ? Two sides fight, relentless in your brain but somehow, the way he’s looking at you with malice, like he already knows you won’t do it has you nodding.

You nod and, it has the power to make the entity’s eyebrows raise a bit, a slight smile on his rosy lips. “It’s not how it works.”, he finally says.

“Is there a way to get out ?”, you’re too curious. If there was a way to get him out, would you do it ? You push the thought away, not wanting to question your morals, not right now. Probably sensing the conflict you’re going through, Jaehyun shrugs. “There is, but you don’t need to know.” At this point, the young man knows what he’s doing. He pokes your curiosity, makes you want and need to know more. Obviously, it works. “Tell me !”

“It’s a ritual. It’s a bit gruesome, I don’t think you want to hear it now, darling. Requires someone’s blood, someone who truly loves me. See, the witch thought no one would ever love me as much as she did.”, Jaehyun explains, detailing your reactions at his words. Something twists at your stomach, blood ? An old ritual, you can’t even begin to think about all the things necessary. Someone who truly loves him, a big requirement when people summon him only to use him, never getting to know the entity. Again, can you really blame them ?

“See, nothing really interesting.”, Jaehyun concludes, “But you, darling. Tell me about yourself.”

Monday night.

Days trying to function with little to no sleep, days with little to no privacy. You think it’s what you miss the most, privacy. Sure, you could put a towel up on your mirror whenever you took a shower but see, you couldn’t take long showers, longs baths. You always feared Jaehyun would appear out of nowhere, manage to get the towel out and then, then what ? And yes, Jaehyun never did that before, only time he truly appeared without you being prepared for it was last night, during the party but, it was for a good cause. Right now, laying in your bed, sheet almost entirely covering your face, it’s another time of privacy you’re longing for. See, you don’t remember the last time you touched yourself. Alright, maybe that’s a hyperbola, you do remember but it seems so, so far away. Few hours of sleep and so many events you can’t even talk about to your friends have you feeling almost jetlagged, having to check your phone for the hour and day.

Staring at your ceiling, a deep sigh leaves your lips. You can’t sleep, you can not sleep at all and you have a trip to your home town tomorrow, things to do that require all your brain power. Your brain and body won’t fall into Morpheus’ arms and, you know exactly why. You need it, you need an orgasm so, so bad. It had been on your mind for a while now, it had been clouding your mind for hours now, actually. Hanging out with your friend today did help quite a bit, helping your brain think about anything else. But now, alone in the the middle of your bed, you can’t deny. Your body doesn’t lie to you, the way you have to close your thighs, the way your hands dangerously move inch by inch towards the center of the problem. Your mind does not lie to you either, foggy images, too clear and loud thoughts.

Yes, you could give in, let your body and mind have what it graves. But, another problem’s right in front of you. The mirror Jaehyun would usually occupy. Fuck, he never announces himself, he never tell you when he’s coming. What if he just...Pops up again ? However, you found a loophole. If your phone doesn’t work when Jaehyun is here, in your mirror, whether you see him or not, the object starts working again when he fully leaves. God knows where he goes, who’s mirror he haunts but at the very least, you know when he isn’t there, right ? God, you know it’d put you to sleep. Picking your phone up, it’s clear the device’s working exactly like it should. You could be quick with it, right ? Two in the morning, you don’t see why Jaehyun would come back now, you really don’t.

And, fuck it. The pale moonlight freely enters your bedroom, helping you distinguish the furniture in your dorm, letting you keep an eye on your mirror just in case. Ditching your heavy blanket to the side, you let the cold air brush over your naked legs. You managed to get out of your pants a bit earlier, struggling with the heat under your sheets. Your right hand softly lands on your closed core, immediately making your leg raise. Planting your foot on your mattress.

Your index slowly traces your lips, over the already wet fabric. God, it’s been so long and you’re already wet. You barely needed to find a memory to get off to for that. The tip of your finger easily finds your bud of nerves, lightly pressing. The small gesture has you gasping softly, keeping your voice low enough.

Enough of teasing yourself, you do not think you have time for this, nor the patience. Pushing your panties aside, you ease a finger between your lips. Finally, some friction. It is not long until you add a second finger to the mix, using a rhythm you know would get you off quickly. Biting down on your lower lip, you have to breathe through your nose, out your mouth to keep your whines quiet enough. Strangely enough, you find yourself thinking back to Jaehyun’s breathing, how his cold hands cupped your face so gently.

In and out, you let a mewl out, unable to muffle it. His cold, ring hugged fingers, wouldn’t they feel so, so nice on your burning skin ?

Oh, what are you even thinking about ? You should not, you can’t. Find something else to think about, another boy to hold your fantasies. It shouldn’t be so hard, right ? It’s almost pathetic, how your mind manages to go through a list of boys you know or once you and yet, the one that has been shaking your life up keeps numbing your mind.

Don’t give in to your thoughts, a side of your brain yells at you.

But there's nothing wrong in this, is it ? A little secret to keep to yourself, just like you’re keeping Jaehyun a secret from everyone.

Fuck, you can’t find your clouded mind at this very moment, you almost give it, let your fingers move faster with a picture pecfect imagine of glossy fingers, shamlesly, a name you never thought you’d moan tumbles from your lips. If only, if only you’d notice the weak flashing of your phone’s screen, the drained battery on the black screen for a few seconds before it went dead. If only you’d notice.

“Well. What do we have here ?”, you almost jump out of your skin, you almost have a heart attack right here. You knew it, you knew you shouldn’t have done it. In a quick motion, you try and grab onto your sheet but, Jaehyun’s voice stops you. Frim, it’s an order he gives you. “Oh no, don’t try and hide yourself now.”

Fingers naturally slowing down, you can’t help the pathetic whisper that leaves from your mouth when you lose the so needed friction. Even if the young man tells you not to hide, you have to close your legs again. You think you’d be mortified, completely frozen but, it’s pure frustration that crashes over you. “God, Jaehyun ! Can’t you warm before ?”, you groaned, your left hand on your forehead. Your right hand, on the other side, grips the thin sheet under your body. You’re probably staining but, you clearly don’t care right now. There’s a low chuckle from the entity, he doesn’t even seem fazed at all. Taking a final step closer to the mirror, something flashes in his eyes. “You’re the one who called me.”, he points out. His own fingers gaze over his jawline and you almost slap yourself, you shouldn’t have such thoughts. But they do look so, so inviting. Did you call him ? Oh, you did, without even realising.

“I heard you.”, he hums, arrogant. He seems so, so amused by the situation. Pearly white teeth bite down on his lower lip for the faintest of second, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ah, I thought you were calling me because you were in danger, doll. But here you are, touching yourself and moaning my name ? What a dirty, naughty little slut.”, the nickname rolls out his tongue too easily, it strikes right, numb your brain even more.

There’s no point in denying it but, somehow, you try and act like his words aren’t affecting you at this very moment, like he does have your thighs closing, core aching. “Don’t call me that.”, you try, breathless. Only then do you notice the change, the sudden heat in your bedroom. A smirk grows on his rosy lips, “Why ? You clearly like it.”

“Go away.”, you try, half believing it.

“You don’t want me to. Why leave when you were moaning my name ?”, he barks right back. Clearly, the back and forth amuses him, it fires him up, he loves when they put up a fight, even already lost. You stay silent for a moment, unable to find words, a sentence that could make sense. “Come on, doll. Show me.”

That voice, you don’t know if you heard it before. Sultry, soft, it feels like velvet. Smooth, inviting, he has you hypnosed and, before you know it, your legs fall open. Heart pumping rapidly in your chest, its excitement that pumps into your vein but, you don’t want to admit it yet.

Oh, the joy and cockiness that flashes in the brunette’s eyes. You think it’s the growl he lets out that takes your breath away, legs trembling. “Come closer, darling. Let me see you.” And you do. Just like last night, you scoot closer until your legs are dangling from your bed. It’s lust speaking, lust acting on your numbed, dizzy mind when your thighs spread open for him to see.

“Pretty.”, he notes and, before you think about doubting your actions, ask him what the two of you are doing at this very moment, he continues. “Show me what you were doing.”

Under his eyes, your right hand finds your drenched core again, hooking the fabric of your underwear to the side, you easily let your two fingers part your core before slipping them in. There’s no point in hiding your moans anymore, soft whispers tumbling from your lips.

“God, you’re so wet.”, he notes. “Faster, fuck yourself faster.”, Jaehyun orders lowly. Captivated by his voice, you do, fingers moving at a rapid pace. It feels too good, surreal, almost.

“Jaehyun, what are we-.”, you start, though it turns in a moan.

“Sht, shut up. ‘m trying to make you feel good, yeah ? Isn’t that what you wanted ?”, it is, you think to yourself. The side of your brain, desperately trying to fight against it finally lets go, gives in into the pleasure. “There you go.”, he hums happily once your head hangs backwards. “Tell me, what are you thinking about ?”

The words get caught in your throat. Eyes heavy, you need a few seconds before being able to speak up again. “Your fingers.”, you admit, any ounce of shame finally leaving your body. It accepts the pleasure Jaehyun is guiding you towards. “Slow down.”, he instructs and, you do so, a small pout on your lips.

“Look at that. Who thought you’d beg me to let you cum some days ago ? Weren’t you the one who pulled a knife on me ?”, he coes. He isn’t wrong, you whine softly at the slow rhythm you now have to keep up with.

“Jaehyun, please.”, you whine out. Tired, sensitive, you’re on the bridge, only waiting for him to let you fall.

“Please, what ?”, what he does next almost has you moaning. Leaning out of the mirror, his skin goes glossy again, just like in the frat house’s bathroom. Shining under the moonlight, his upper body’s so close. The same human like je ne sais quoi, one that has you leaning closer, closer to him. The coldest of his fingers, what you were thinking about seconds ago, you feel them again. In the dead of the night, skin burning, the entity places his hand right around your neck. He isn’t even pressing and yet, he manages to get your breathing uneven. “Please what, doll ?”, he asks again, almost archly. “Please, let me come, please.”, you beg, throwing any shame and dignity out of your opened window. Clearly appeased and glad by your words, the brunette lets his fingers press harder, harder. Cutting your airways, he tilts your head up, enough that you feel obligated to look at him. “Come on, make yourself cum.”

Face close, he’s millimeters away, lips brushing against yours but never does he kiss you. Keeping his right hand around your throat, his left hand guides your fingers, helping you, guiding you. “Pretty little thing.”, he coes the moment he feels you twitching. Pretty brown eyes set on you, he details, drinks in any one of your expressions. Under his gaze, you take minutes to hit it. Your orgasm is an intense one, crashes over your body, Jaehyun has to let you breathe.

“There you go.”, voice soft, it sounds far, far away. You take minutes to come down, minutes for your mind to clear again. “Sht, it’s alright.”, you can hear the smirk in his voice and, before you can point it out, sleep knocks you out.

Realization, it’s realization that crashes over you the next morning. Or rather, the next afternoon. It’s around one in the afternoon when you wake up, sunlight freely entering in your room. Birds, voices, cars, the city’s wide awake and shakes you up. Truthfully, you’d rather not wake up today.

Your gaze falls on your phone, battery intact and on, the multiple texts you have from your family makes you understand. You missed your train, great. Even better, you remember last night. Is it regret ? Rather something else you don’t understand. You don’t really regret what happened, rather fear what will happen next. Jaehyun isn’t human, not anymore at least. Stuck in a mirror, he’s bound to leave at some point. He’s an entity, doesn’t that clash with your morals ?

Your brain goes miles an hour and you aren’t even able to stop it. Maybe, maybe a shower could help ? You need to get ready anyways. Family’s waiting, worried for you and here you are, stomach empty hanging a towel on the mirror of your bathroom.

What the fuck did you do ? That’s the question that keeps turning again and again in your head. But, it didn’t hurt anyone, right ? God, the grey area you’re in has you in a headache in minutes. Do you want him to leave, or not ? It’s a hard question, one you can’t answer, even at the end of your shower. Shouldn’t you want him to leave ? Isn’t he supposed to be a scary legend ? That’s the problem. He isn’t so scary, he isn’t so mean and cold. But again, he’s an entity.

Tumbling in your bedroom, your hand runs in your hair out of pure frustration, passing back and forth in the hallway that connects your bed and bathroom, where Jaehyun cannot see you. It’s funny, you look like him now. Are you becoming like him ? Or worse, like Eric ? You don’t even have a wish right now. It’s then that you do what you’re best, or worse at doing, You act on impulse.

Walking right in front of your mirror, you take a deep breath. You think the sweat gathering at your hairline’s going to ruin your makeup, the outfit you chose to wear isn’t appropriate for the weather. Anyways, you try your best a firm voice and call, “Jaehyun.”

On cue, he appears. Slight smirk on his face, he looks too pleased, probably because of last night’s event. Is it a smirk or, a genuine smile ? That, you can’t really tell. The brunette told you, you were easy to read and before you can understand his emotions, he understands your own. His smile fades into something more serious, catching up. Something’s wrong.

“Yes ?”, he asks, almost carefully. He never saw you like this, there’s a spark in your eyes he isn’t able to understand. Confusion, regret, fear, frustration ?

“I have my last wish.”, you tell him. Your heart’s heavy, for some reason. You shouldn’t be really, you think you found a solution to your problem, didn’t you ? “I want everything to go back to normal. Take back my popularity.”, you tell him in one go, once you have the courage to.

For a second, you see amusement flashing in his eyes, like he’s about to make fun of your wish. Actually, he was about to, question you before he catches on. He catches on way too quickly. Amusement quickly turns to...Disappointment, anger. His eyes quickly travel from your eyes to a point in your room you can’t see, back to your eyes. Features twisted, his breathing slightly changes, so does the temperature in the room.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”, it’s a growl, a dip in his tone that mimics the shift in the temperature, suddenly getting colder.

The limp in your throat doesn’t help, cold sweat probably ruins your makeup as you try your best to keep your composure.

“Jaehyun, it’s-”, you try, almost turning desperate. Your words get caught when he takes a step closer, you know he can and might lean out but he doesn’t do it, yet.

“You’re trying trying to get rid of me.”, it’s laced with anger. Anger, venom and disappointment. It’s the lather that has your heart breaking. You’re human after all, it’s only natural that you feel bad about your decision.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you ! It’s just that, after last night…”, you can’t even explain yourself, you’re unable to put words into your feelings.

“I knew it, you’re like everyone else.”, he spits out. His nose crunches up, disgusted. The young man looks down at you, eyebrows furrow, lips twisting. “Using me.”, the words echo in your room, he uses every mirror to let you know.

“Jaehyun, stop.”, you beg. You beg, tears in your eyes. Obviously, he doesn’t. He has it heavy on his chest, he’ll speak even if you don’t hear him.

“Using me to get what you want, only to ditch me. Leave me. Forget about me.”, anger clear in his voice, it’s loud, louder than what a normal man could be. The slight fog around his body grows thicker, darker, almost threatening. Goosebumps on your arms, the shirt you’re wearing doesn’t help how cold you’re feeling.

“I don’t want to forget you !”, you choke between tears, freely letting them fall down your cheeks. “You don’t understand ! You can’t - You can’t stay with me forever.” You hiccup, using your fingers to dry your tears.

Jaehyun doesn’t answer, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down as he blinks slowly. Anger has his jaw tight, chest raising up and down at a steady rhythm.

“I could’ve.”, he argues but it’s clear he half believes it. He couldn’t stay forever by your side, you wouldn’t be able to live your life in such a way. Shooting him a look that says it all, he doesn’t argue, he doesn’t continue. “You said your wish anyways. So be it.”

Unlike last time, it isn’t as happy, isn’t as fierce. It’s abandonment, he has to anyways. The glow behind him changes, shifts.

You can’t feel the changes of your wish right away. Jaehyun stays a cold face, almost refusing to look at you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding gets out in a sigh, your shoulders flopping down.

Silence. Silence for seconds while he looks to the side.

And suddenly, he turns around again, looking right into your eyes. “I have my wish, too.”, he says, coldly.

Before you can even argue, help him find something, offer one yourself, he cuts you off. Letting his hand out of the mirror, he doesn’t even completely lean out.

Looking down at his hand, you already know. You know what he’s going to ask for. “Jaehyun…”, you try, voice small. You don't want to cry again, throat completely cut.

“I want a dance, darling.”, he says, nickname sounding cold. You were expecting this wish, somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d think that maybe, he wouldn’t want to let you go. Nonetheless, it still tightens you heart, makes it pound in your chest.

If you could drop to your knees at this very moment, you would. But your body’s frozen, stuck in place. The plea you whisper isn’t of any use. You’re obligated to, before you even know it, your body’s pushed.

Your hand lands in his, cold skin against your own. Touch gentle, he guides you towards him.

To effortlessly move into another world, it feels like crossing a thin waterfall. You have to close your eyes when Jaehyun gently pulls your body towards the mirror. For a second, you don’t open your eyes, not knowing what to expect. Entire, pitch black room ? Jaehyun’s true appearance ? You don’t know, you can’t even begin to imagine. Your laced hands in the air, Jaehyun’s left hand placed itself in your back, classic position for a slow dance. “Y/N.”, he calls softly, too softly for the wish he just asked for.

You look up.

He looks normal, entirely human. No more glossy skin, you can see every small detail, every long lash, every freckle, deep dimples on each side of his lips. Milky skin, rosy lips. He doesn’t look as mad as he did previously, like having you right next to him managed to appease him. Unable to answer, you only look into his eyes. Even brighter, brown and golden sparks, the light he was lacking before is here, fully. He looks alive. When you don’t answer, a song starts playing, one you quickly recognise. Sway. It sounds far away, like a distant dream, it resonates. Only then, do you have the guts to look around. Jaehyun’s wearing the same clothes, around you, everything looks glossy. Glass walls without an edge, you could make the faintest outline of a castle, golden lights and pretty chandelier. Heavy, the pictures look wavy, like casted upon a distorted mirror. You can’t recognise not make anything else up. But, what takes you back, rips a gasp out of your lips, are the people.

Dozens of people dancing, slowly to the song. They mimic you and Jaehyun’s movements as he guides you, makes you sway, bend under his expert hands. All those people dancing and yet, they all look empty. It’s only when your eyes fall upon a man, dressed in royal uniform that you understand. All these people, he trapped them all with him.

You gasp and, as you’re about to question him, he speaks up. “Darling, look at me.”, he demands.

When you do, he meets you with a soft smile, comprehensive look in his eyes. “I understand, I understand why you did it.”, he starts. Finally, you’re the one to break him off. It’s clear he’s the one guiding your body, you don’t think you have any control over it at this very moment. He makes you dance in his makeshift castle, the only place he can rule over.

“I didn’t know what do to.”, you confess. Do you want to leave him ? No. But the grey area it leaves you in keeps hurting your brain, thorns you apart every second. “My intentions were never to use you.”, you tell him, gulping down as you pass a couple twirling, clearly from different centuries. Jaehyun knows, the words he let out of pure anger, he did not think them one bit. After all, you didn’t even know what to wish for. “I know.”, he calmly says. Face close to yours, you don’t mind the proximity. “Enjoy the moment with me. Please, doll.”

How can you truly enjoy the moment when you’re sure he’s going to trap you at any moment, have you stuck with him forever ? You almost lean into the idea, give in. You know this song well enough, the end is near and all you can do is look up into Jaehyun’s eyes. If he wants you here, you can not fight it. Can you ?

The entity has his eyes closed, forehead against your own. Softly, he whispers out only for you to hear. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for making me feel love again.”, he starts. “But I can not be selfish.” Before you can let something out, his lips softly press against the bone of your cheek and, his hands let you free to move, moments before the end of the song. An arm in front of his, he bows down with a slight smile. It isn’t hard to see the sadness he isn’t hiding. “I guess this is a goodbye. Go, run.”

You have well enough time and, when you understand that, you run, just like he asked. Heart pumping, you run, run towards the small frame where you can see the outline of your bedroom and, before you know it, the same waterfall. The sudden shift has you tumbling down, dropping to your knees.

“Jaehyun !”, you don’t care about your voice right now, you scream loud enough. Down on the fall, facing your mirror, Jaehyun faces you again, squatting down like he loves to do. The same sad smile on his face. Your hand flat on the surface, you hit your mirror like you’re hitting a window. You see it, he’s facing, slowly. Translucid, it’s a question of seconds before he’s entirely gone. Then, when tears fill your eyes, an invisible hand twist your heart, you understand.

Again and again, you tap on the glass.

“I’ll get you out, I promise !”

5K notes · View notes

cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Leave Me Lonely p.1 - The Darkling x Reader

Based on Ariana Grande’s song Leave me Lonely ft.Macy Grey. Was supposed to be just one part but I got carried away as per usual 🤓

'Get the General!' Zoya's eyes were borderline frantic but her composure remained the same, the once pristine blue kefta was dirty and ragged and her long luscious hair was disheveled, a piece of it in the way of a small cut on her temple.

'Zoya are you alright?' You were exiting the General's tent when you saw her approach, your body filled with an alarming feeling as you raced to meet her and some other Grisha, The skiff, she was manning a skiff across the Fold not even an hour ago, why is she back?

She ignored your question and continued with her dutifulness, 'The General, this is urgent'

You nodded and ran back, mind whirling with the possibilities of the skiffs return. Zoya was a great Squaller who'd successfully manned many journeys across the Fold so why was she back here, all scratched and bruised.

He was conversing with First Army Lieutenants and Captains when a rough grasp around his arm interrupted the flowing conversation. He squared his shoulders but when he saw your panicked face, he relaxed but only the smallest amount. Not even 10 minutes beforehand you two were involved in a heavy argument and at the feel of his tense muscles beneath his kefta, you guessed he thought you were back for more.

You had a right to come back and throw insults at his face, hell, he was the one who brought out that side of you. A vicious, ruthless, and malevolent side you never knew you had, but you ignored that urge.

-Dangerous Love, you're no good for me darling-

'We have a situation.' You cocked your head in Zoya's direction and waited until his company excused themselves and stood to the side before you let Zoya speak.

'I think we may have a sun-summoner.' She said without any negligible hesitancy. The tent suddenly froze in time. The Grisha held their breath and the otkazat'sya paled as your eyes grew wide. A Sun-Summoner.

'We were 2 markers in and were attacked by volcra, a searing light came out of nowhere, or rather came out of a girl, a first-army soldier.' You could see the lieutenant perk up at the sound of one of his being mentioned but Aleksander's expression hadn't changed since Zoya started talking.

'Bring her to me.'

'A Healer is bringing her now.' As she concluded her statements, she silently moved off to the crowd of other Grisha who'd come back from the skiff journey looking equally as shaken as she did.

You leaned back on the desk for support as you settled the information she'd just given you. This was Zoya, a very, very credible witness who'd just said a Sun-Summoner had been found. A legend come true, a myth that no longer needed debunking.

You looked at him again, this time noticing a flicker of hope in his eyes. He stared right back into your own wide eyes and gave a gentle nod followed by a small squeeze of reassurance to your hand which still held a tight hold on his arm. He kept his back to the entrance but you had a full view of her once the tent flap opened.

She was brought in by two guards in a scuffed First-Army uniform, Whether it was from the volcra or just daily use, you didn't know. She looked slightly sickly but mostly scared, like a wounded animal being hunted by its prey.

'Bring her closer.' You had let go of his arm now, that feeling of surety left you cold as his touch disappeared from yours. The guards brought her forth a bit more, letting her go and stepping back as their General finally turned around.

'Closer.' She took a tiny step forward. The poor girl is petrified.

'Well?'

'Well, what. Sir?' She was on the defense, I don't blame her. He was intimidating even when he wasn't using his powers.

'What are you?'

'Alina Starkov, Assistant Cartographer, Royal Corps of Surveyors.' Her fearful expression suddenly changed into a more devastated one. 'They’re all gone. It’s my fault. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?'

'Answer the question.' He leaned back against the desk just as you did.

'A mapmaker, sir' It was clear to you that Ms.Starkov had no idea why she was here. She was scared, alone, and being interrogated by the most feared man in all of Ravka. The tent erupted in a peal of laughter but you had no time for such snobbiness.

'Quiet' You ordered and a silence fell over the space once again. There was a time when you wouldn't dare command a tent full of Grisha, but Aleksander had changed you; changed the way all his Grisha looked at you.

'So who actually saw what happened? Zoya? You manned the mainsail.'

Zoya repeated what she told you, and Aleksander asked the girl whether she'd been tested but your ears stopped listening once she'd stated she grew up in Keramzin. You too grew up in Keramzin before you were shipped off to the Little Palace to train and become a skilled Heartrenderer. You knew they tested all the children, so how the hell did she slip through the cracks?

You came back from your thoughts just as Aleksander approached her and subsequently amplified her powers. A beam of light so bright and strong you felt some heat from it pounced from her skin and up through the ceiling.

Everyone looked away from the harsh ray but you couldn't turn away. It was beautiful and magical, the physical embodiment of hope, but short-lived as Aleksander let her go and she fell back with a look of awe. He moved quickly, whispering into Ivan's ear and then moving back to you.

'Accompany them to the Little Palace. Ride on a horse and be on the lookout, and give her your kefta.' You nodded curtly, knowing he only trusted his inner circle with the transport of the Sun-Summoner to Os Alta, and that included you. Alina was dragged out from the tent still in a daze of her own.

Your earlier argument with him vanished from your memory as he leaned down to briefly kiss you on the top of your head, 'Be safe.' And with that, you left to find your horse.

***

The backroads were peaceful and quiet as your horse galloped along the dirt road. You wanted so badly to sit in the carriage and speak to Alina, a fellow child of Keramzin, but you listened to Aleksander's command and served as a lookout for any oncoming dangers. So far it had been all clear, but as you approached a hill, a tree blocking the road caught your attention. You slid off your horse and signaled the coachmen to stop too.

'The road is blocked! Beware!' One of them shouted and then all hell broke loose. Shots came from everywhere and anywhere while your horse, in a frightful spell, escaped the way you came.

You had no clear line of vision as dust and dirt clouds plummed above ground and a bullet scratched your left shoulder, then your leg. Your eyes stung and lungs burned as you tried to get yourself out of direct lines of bullets and bombs, eventually finding a place behind thick trees.

Ivan and Fedyor joined you almost immediately both panting and the latter holding his hand to his chest.

'You're bleeding Y/N, where is your kefta?' Fedyor panicked and lay his other hand on your leg where the blood glistened like a jewel.

'How many are there?' Ivan risked asking, trying to get your mind off of the bleeding wounds. Your hands were up in the air as you listened for heartbeats and your heart dropped to your stomach. Too many.

'At least 15 more.' You looked around the Grisha desperately devising a plan in your head that would bring you all out alive.

'Get to the carriage, protect the girl' You signaled to the three Heartrenderers and Squaller.

'But you're hurt and you cannot fight the-' Ivan was cut off by the darkening of the forest, a classic tell that Aleksander was here. Relief flooded you all. The shadows loomed over you, directing their course to near the carriage and then up ahead to where Alina was.

You waited for him to erupt from behind the trees and help you, but the minutes ticked by and you were still hiding from the skilled Fjerdan fighters without backup. Fedyor looked to you, disappointment and pity clear on his face.

Only momentarily did the fighting cease as bullets carried on their assault. You assumed they would flee from the fear of being in the Darkling's presence, but they hit back twice as hard. In return, you all fought back equally as strong, knocking out bodies left right and center despite your dwindling body.

All throughout the fight, you had one thing on your mind and that was why Aleksander chose to ignore you. Was he still mad from your argument? No that couldn't possibly be why he would leave you to potentially die at the hands of druskelle.

Yes you were a soldier, but no doubt he knew the extents of the Fjerdan army and their skilled fighters. If outnumbered, a Grisha was basically of no use.

-If you're gonna love me and leave me hanging here....-

You understood she was the Sun-Summoner but you were you. You were the person he shared his bed with every night, the person who could calm his stormy mind, and the person who stayed with him through it all even though you hurt more than he loved. It stung like a throbbing wound and snagged at your already dwindling will to keep the relationship alive.

-then I'd rather you leave me lonely-

—————-

Part 2

Taglist

@aleksanderwh0r3 @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend @justmesadgirl

234 notes · View notes

daverygalskisbff · 3 years

Note

could we get some allura & lance friendship prompts? i LOVED your other ones btw 💖💖💖💖

HI I'm sorry this took forever I have honestly no idea why bc I adore these two and I ADORE this prompt so my brain should not have shut down the way it did. anywayz to make up for the wait i tried to make this a bit longer than my usual posts :) I hope you like it!

(also, as usual, everything here I came up with myself, and if there's any similarity to someone elses post I apologise and promise it wasn't intentional)

now without further ado,

Lance and Allura!

similar to lance and pidge, the two are decidedly Not close in the beginning

i had an entire thing about how i imagine they became friends at first written out, but it was a tad too long and i didn't want to clog up the post with too much exposition. so instead, let's just skip forward and get into their dynamic after they become buddies :) (however, if anyone wants to see the backstory I would not be opposed)

although he no longer has a crush on her, lance makes it a point to hype her up as much as he possibly can

at first allura was confused, because she thought it was him trying to flirt with her still, but once she understood what was going on she was more than willing to join in

lance when allura completely destroys the training droid: WOWZA ladies and gentlemen of the jury may I present to you the icon the legend the moment herself her royal highness princess allura of altea!!!!! if you thought that was impressive just WAIT till she gets warmed up because this is just the beginning!!! she can even do it in heels-

shiro: lance, please focus, this is really important that we-

allura: no no, shiro, please. let him finish.

they both show their friendship in slightly different ways. lance's way is that he is physically incapable of not humouring the princess

allura when lance shows her his cartwheel: incredible!!!!!!! i have never been more impressed in my life!!! do you think you could do it in heels??

lance: uhhh. y'know princess I'm really loving the faith, but-

allura: :)?

lance:.... what if you don't have my size?

lance fractured his ankle. allura has yet to stop apologising.

allura's way is definitely safer, but it's also a lot more... cluttered. to say the least.

allura, returning from a recon mission with a tiny bag filled with what looks like tiny, glittery dinosaur figurines made of glass: lance! look at what i bought for you!

lance, taking one look at the contents of the bag: wow, 'lurra, this is… so nice of you

allura: lance, are you. are you crying?

lance (definitely crying): what? NO! of course not!! I'm just. allergic, to. uh. oxygen.

allura: what.

allura never had any siblings back on altea, but she always wanted them

this, paired with how much lance misses his own family, means that the two of them kind of gravitate towards each other in terms of siblinghood.

as a child allura would imagine what it would be like to have siblings, but especially a twin. she would fall asleep to dreams of secret handshakes, finishing each other's sentences, and swapping places to trick people

she doesn't realise the brother she has found in lance until a long time after they've become close (how would she recognise a dynamic she has never been privy to?)

this realisation happens on just a random day in the castleship lounge. she is talking to hunk, when suddenly lance, who she didn't even realise was listening to their conversation, butts in and finishes her sentence.

she's annoyed at being interrupted at first, but then what happened sinks in, and suddenly she's fighting off tears. lance doesn't know why she's crying, but he hugs her anyway.

the two of them match accessories a lot

with allura's love of pretty things (and the abundance of stuff in her closet) paired with lance's natural dramatics, nobody else on the team is entirely sure of whether this is intentional or not.

it started off as intentional. it is now second nature.

one decision, however, was completely planned and thought out for exactly twenty minutes, and then deeply regretted by both parties for the next 48 hours

allura pierced lance's ears

now before you get judgemental, you try making a smart decision at two am space-time while very giddy and slightly buzzing on some weird old alien candy that not even your resident alien is sure the ingredients of. then talk to me.

pidge: okay so you're gonna need a needle, ice, and… yeah I'm pretty sure that's it

lance: don't we need a potato too

pidge: … why the fuck would you need a potato

lance: I dunno!!! my sister pierced her friend's ears one time and she mentioned a potato!!! I'm just trying to make sure everything goes well, pidge!

allura: I love these earth customs you two are showing me!! when I got my ears pierced it was done with some kind of laser, but your way sounds much more fun :).

allura: also, what is a "potato" and where can we find one?

it goes about as well as you would expect

the excited buzz on lance lasts about three ticks into the process, and then the screaming starts

pidge (the genius who came up with the idea) gives him some altean taffy to chew on to stop him from making too much noise, and allura, the angel, is babbling right along with him

allura, with tears in her eyes: how was I supposed to know it was going to hurt mine didn't hurt well it was 10,000 years ago and I was very young altean children don't have very strong pain receptors you know, maybe that's why my parents had it done at that age, or maybe your people are just completely barbaric, who thought this would be a good idea?? pidge why did you suggest this poor lonce is in tears lonce I'm so sorry but if it's any consolation at all at least now your ears won't be nearly as hideous as before and you can borrow as many of my earrings as you want except for the sparkly green ones that dangle those are my favourite well they're actually my second favourite I'm wearing my favourite - you can't borrow those either, by the way, but you can have any of the others I promise

lance, also crying and still chewing the altean taffy: hhb, llura yub domf hoff do bologuys, ss long'ss yub sanstsd thu niddle frst

allura (who did not remember to sanitize the needle), now crying freely: I don't understand what you're saying

(pidge records the entire thing)

the next day lance wakes up with ears that are very sore and slightly green, and allura faints

they spend the entire morning avoiding shiro in case they get in trouble and trying to figure out how to get the healing pods to work

lance: what do you mean you don't know allura you literally lived in one of these

allura: I was asleep the whole time!!! don't put this on me!!

lance: don't put- you are the one that pierced my ears, allura, of course it's on you!

coran, who has been watching this entire interaction in silence: oh, I thought i noticed something different about you, number three!

lance and allura: [screaming]

coran helps them set up the healing pod

unfortunately lance has to take the earrings out, so the holes close back up, but fortunately coran just so happens to know how to pierce ears the correct way that they did on altea

lance, after half a day in the healing pod, watching coran advance upon him with a literal handheld flamethrower that shoots lasers: is it too late to go back to the ear infection

coran is surprisingly very adept at the skill of altean beautification (an activity that has a surprisingly long and rich backstory, which lance and allura get an in-depth lesson on for the hour that it takes to do lance's ears properly)

they're exhausted afterwards, but lance looks great, so they're in good moods regardless

they like to teach each other about things from their respective planets - both for fun, and because it helps them feel less homesick

whenever allura is particularly down about the loss of altea, lance will visit her in her room, and the two of them will just lie together on her bed.

they don't say much, most of the time, just link their pinkies together and stare at the ceiling

when they do talk, it's quiet, and always allura who starts it - she might share something she remembers about altea, and lance listens quietly and then responds with something he misses about cuba

it isn't always sad tho - sometimes they just talk about things they remember that pop into their heads, or explain things to each other that they wouldn't otherwise know

at the space mall, they make a game out of pointing things out to each other and trying to guess what it is (allura can only guess when they're in the earth shop, but it's okay because she more than makes up for it in enthusiasm)

lance, holding a my little pony collectible: okay princess. what is this.

allura, completely serious: a weapon

lance: ... close

allura, holding up a set of magnetic heart necklaces to the light: what does… "biffs" mean?

lance: it's "bffs," princess, it means "best friends forever"

allura: oh! you mean like me and you?

lance:

lance: 'lurra what did we say about making me cry in public, we've talked about this-

(they buy the necklaces. obviously.)

they mess with each other's hair a lot

once allura learns that lance's hair is naturally curly, and that he just straightens it all of the time, she makes it her god-given mission to convince him to wear it naturally more often

this mission includes plans such as stealing his hair straightener, "donating" a bunch of curly hair products to him because she "doesn't have the space", and getting keith to say he thinks curly hair is cool one day in the rec room

she still thinks it's the funniest thing ever that that actually worked

other than week-long sabotage plots, they both think it's fun to have lance braid allura's hair

he used to braid his sister's and niece's hairs all of the time, so he has a knack for it that allura did not expect at all but is obsessed with anyway

allura, coming to lance's room a few hours before another diplomatic party: hey..... how yall doin.....

lance, already prepared with a million different brushes and bands: oh my god just get in already

lance and allura have a lot in common

one of these things, they learn very early into their relationship, is that they are both disasters when it comes to pretty girls (and boys, but that's a lance-exclusive situation)

so they become each other's wingmen

they both tend to get… a little too into it

the team: [at a diplomatic ball]

lance, seeing a pretty alien girl looking allura's way and "politely" speedwalking over to her: alluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraallura pretty girl look over there eleven o'clock LOOK she's gonna walk away looklooklook

allura: lance darling thank you so much for your help but I am in the middle of talking to the president

and alternatively:

allura tries to set lance and keith up all the time. at first she was worried she would be overstepping boundaries, but after one particular sleepover where lance spent an entire hour lamenting his "bad luck" she decided to take things into her own hands

this includes, but is not limited to; sending them on supply missions alone together (often), mentioning particular things lance has done to his appearance to keith every time she can, and talking about specific paladin bonds more than she maybe should

lance hates it

keith, walking into the lounge: h-

allura, immediately: hello keith!! help settle an argument, will you :)?

keith: um… okay

allura: lovely! now, tell me, do you think lance looks cuter today than he did yesterday? we can't seem to agree on whether or by he's stunning or simply handsome. what do you think?

keith: uh-

allura: oh, and while I have you, have you noticed that his ears are pierced?

lance, beet red: allu-

allura: what :(?? can't i be proud of my handiwork??

lance, to keith: I am not associated with her

after a week of this keith literally sets up a system where if allura is in a room he walks into he just does a complete 180 and walks back out

one time, at a diplomatic meeting, an alien politician mistook them for a couple and they both choked on their drinks at the same time, and then got offended that the other one agreed that the concept was insane

allura: what happened to being the princess of your dreams, lance?? I thought I MEANT something to you. obviously! i was wrong!

lance: oh yeah?? then why did you GIGGLE, allura. what's so funny, huh?? my good looks??? my charming charisma?? how far out of your league I am???

allura:

lance: okay maybe that last one was a bit of a stretch

another thing lance and allura do is pronounce each other's names wrong

they call each other lonce and allora

it started as lance kind of making fun of allura's accent, but turned into just one of their Things

allura honestly didn't know it was a bit until the habit had been long constructed

#pippa.post #pippa.canon #vld lance #vld keith #vld allura #klance #vld pidge #pippa.ask #vld shiro #i added klance bc i know you like it gia i hope this was up to your standard <3 #vld coran #vld team

205 notes · View notes

babydarkstar · 3 years

Text

cacoethes

part two: bring your sweet loving

rating: E (18+ ONLY) || pairing: ezra x f!reader || word count: 10.5k

chapter summary: as the night winds down and tensions simmer, we learn more about you, pieces of your past, and your relationship with ezra.

warnings: ezra’s gigantic mouth that won’t shut up (suggestive language) and two criminals not knowing how to act; caretaking, i guess? reader cleans ezra but it’s nothing erotic; SMUT; handjob and graphic depictions of a glorious dick; dirty talk; dubcon maybe bc painkillers but he’s enthusiastic abt it; praise kink; switches having a great time; ezra’s subby in this but i promise he’s a dom too just not tonight; mentions of death, killing, tattoos, scars; mention of past drug use, bad coping mechanisms; mm i hc that ezra is a tiny tattoo guy so there’s that; fluff bc im sweet; author is a southern peach, forgive her if it gets a little slow and twangy up in here

a/n: un-beta’d bc mistakes are sexy. i’ll go back later and fix whatever i find but for now. enjoy. i’m literally just making shit up about this universe as we go but it’s working out for the best so bear with me. lmk if u want me to add u to be tagged here. tagging: @pedros-mustache @jk7789

crossposted to ao3 :) || playlist || one || two || three

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

“Here, Cee,” you said, adjusting the threadbare blanket over your cot and splaying a hand over it while she eyed you from across the tent, still standing amongst the carnage of a violent field surgery, “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

The poor girl was scared. Well—not scared, not anymore.

Vengeful, for certain, though it seemed to dwindle with every minute she watched you interact.

Definitely wary of the two of you.

Which was appropriate, given that Ezra had killed her father and left her alone on an uninhabitable moon, only to be scooped up by his partner and deceived into thinking she was safe, and then forced to perform impromptu surgery to hack off an arm. But she appeared more wary to accept help from you than wary of you.

And honestly, if Ezra hadn’t just lost a limb and you didn’t want to hover beside him after not seeing him for a month to make sure he didn’t slip the veil in his sleep or disappear beneath your fingertips—and if you weren’t trying to earn her trust, you’d have made her take the floor.

But things were different now, they might always be. She had saved his life. You owed her your cot to sleep on.

“Wait,” Ezra said, swallowing thickly as he blinked, seeming to just process the words you had spoken, “You think so little of me that I’d let you sleep on the dirt after the day you’ve had? Now, I agree that our guest should find comfort in a cot of her own, but I will not deny you the simple respite of sleep. That would prove me an unworthy companion.”

“Ezra,” you said, giving him a look of incredulity that seeped into your tone, “You can’t be serious.”

He eyed you and clenched his jaw, still stomaching the fact that he had one less limb to worry about, and a bunch more problems to deal with. It was a look that told you he was not arguing with you, you were going to sleep on the cot. He would not be coddled like a child just because he lost an arm.

Which was, in itself, ridiculous. You didn’t plan to coddle him—you weren’t the type, not really. But. He’d lost a fucking arm. But he was also still delirious from the anesthetic, so that didn’t help his desire to prove something to the universe.

“You’re taking the cot, I’m not having this conversation,” you said, wiping his sweaty brow with your sleeve, “Tap into the ruthless outlaw inside of you and take it without regret. You know I hardly sleep anyways, I’ll live without a bed for the night.”

“Then I must insist you share it with me, precious angel,” he sighed, and you could almost see the cogs in his head turning as his distant gaze darkened into something hungry, “I’ve longed to feel your body pressed against mine since I left with Number Two. The divinity of your skin.” He hummed, eyes fluttering shut, “More…more precious than the ore we risk our lives for. Sweeter than fruit. Fresher than a rainstorm.”

“Ez,” you warned, snapping a glare at him.

“Your body…so tender, warm,” he continued, entranced in his own fantasy, not even hearing you when you warned him yet again, “All soft and pliant beneath my touch. It has been far too long since we partook in a pleasure as indulgent as one another—before our partnership with Two, if I can recall. Grant me heaven tonight. I deserve the satisfaction of watching you drip honey for me—”

“Hey! None of that,” you snapped, cocking an eyebrow—and fighting the flutter in your chest and the heat tingling down your core, “There are young ears present, Shakespeare Erotica. Not to mention young eyes.”

You would do no such thing with him as long as this teenager remained in close quarters and under your care. He turned to look at Cee, as if he’d forgotten all about her for a moment. Or maybe it was that he didn’t care. Bastard.

“I’m okay as long as you guys don’t fuck in front of me,” Cee sighed, resigned to have dealt with too much in her past to be worried about flirting—no, verbal-fucking.

“We won’t be doing any of that,” you assured her, giving Ezra another pointed look before slinging his arm around your shoulders and helping him to the cot. He grumbled incoherently, moaning and groaning the few steps it took to ease him down into the squeaky frame.

When you finally got him down—forced him to lay down—he let out another soft whimper of pain, followed by your name. “Don’t go.”

Brushing the hair off his sweaty forehead, you bent down to press a kiss there, “M’right here, Ez. Rest. I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

It was the least you could do—and that way you could take inventory of every inch of him to ensure he didn’t have any other wounds hiding and festering and threatening his life. Just as this wouldn’t be your first time tending to him while he laid incapacitated, he’d done the same for you plenty of times. There was very little, if anything at all, the two of you hadn’t seen of each other. Vulnerability had another name here: normalcy.

“After—” he rasped up at you, coughing and then righting himself, “After we find our way off this Kevva-damned moon—which we will—I understand if you no longer deem me…worthy of your affections. It’s the only explanation I can find for your denial of my offer to dote on you. I only pray you make good on your long-standing promise to drop me where I stand should I ever disappoint you, dear heart of mine.”

Okay, you didn’t know where all the insecurity and sentiment was coming from, especially hearing it from the mouth of your dear old confident mean-streak Ezra, but he couldn’t possibly be serious. It made you ache to think that he didn’t trust you to stay with him, that he viewed himself as lesser because he lost his arm. Well, he was lesser, but only by mass.

Also, really? The only explanation he could find for you not wanting to sleep with him was that you hated him and didn’t want him because of his injury? He couldn’t think of any more glaringly obvious reasons, those of which had just been pointed out to him?

With a sigh, you brushed your thumb across the silvery scar on his cheek, “Rest now, chatterbox. I’ll be here when you wake up—and every morning after, for as long as I can. Only death could pry you from me, and me from you. You’ve got me, forever….I still see you as you are—a hundred percent you, a hundred percent mine.”

The words felt foreign on your lips, but he was bound to forget them the moment he fell asleep, so you didn’t feel as weird waxing poetic right back at him. The man had rubbed off on you in more ways than one. You normally didn’t speak to one another so frankly—at least, you didn’t, given the nature of what it meant to care out here and how you’d already unofficially established that you two were something more—but tonight you couldn’t fucking help it.

Ezra leaned into your touch, pawing at it with his hand, grabbing onto your fingers and kissing into your palm. A dull smile poked at his mouth and he let it engulf him. “Quite the charmer you are, siren.”

You didn’t respond, only half-smiled and wriggled—reluctantly—from his grasp to grab a few clean cloths and fill a bucket with water. After squirting the sanitizing solution in the water, you simmered the lights down to the lowest setting, to where your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you could make your way across the tent. His gaze bore into you—no, both Ezra and Cee watched every move you made; one in lazy admiration and the other in curiosity.

“Do you need me to put a drape over the post? I’m strippin’ him,” you asked Cee as you slung Ezra’s clean shirt from off the drying line onto your shoulder—you smiled at the floor, thanking yourself from hours ago for deciding not to burn it. You grabbed the bucket and tottered over to him, nodding at him to scoot. He obliged, giving you room to sit by his hip so you could ease his clothes off.

Cee shook her head when you looked to her for a response, opting to sit on your cot facing away from you with her nose in her book, so you shrugged and tugged the fabric off of Ezra in slow, deliberate motions, wincing every time he grunted.

As you took the time to clean off the grime and dirt and sweat of the Green, he told you about running into Cee and her father Damon; how he tried to take his entire harvest from the few cycles he’d spent with Two; about Two’s untimely, irrational outburst that cost them their life. About the Queen’s Lair and the mercs, and the plan to ravage and plunder and take it all for themselves. You thought the Queen’s Lair was a rumor. Not even a rumor—a myth, a legend, something fabricated by desperate fools with hazy minds of dust and their eyes set on fortune. But Ezra told you he’d seen part of it marked on Cee’s map, that her father was contracted to help extract the deposit. Cee even pulled her map out to point to the marked areas, albeit with clinical movements and short words.

So you made a plan to head out at first light, with the trip taking most of the daylight, and they’d be cutting it close but there was no way you’d let Ezra hike so many klicks in his state—not without a few hours’ rest first.

After you’d managed to clean his legs, his hips, his feet and get him into something more comfortable than compression pants, you moved to his torso and traced over each scar marring his skin, each jagged edge where something hadn’t healed right or wasn’t stitched properly. He’d lost some weight under the harsh conditions of the Green—you both had. But he still held onto muscle from the toil that came with survival on such harsh terrain; and he was naturally broad, he always would be, which made him sturdy.

Your fingers ghosted over a few microtattoos he’d gotten; one beneath his ribcage, one on his hipbone, and the one you’d given him yourself on his lower sternum. That one, as you brushed over it with a wet cloth, never failed to make you smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

A tiny, unfilled heart, a mere outline, barely a centimeter in size. It was messy, simple, done in minutes. But it meant something, meant exactly what you’d never quite been able to voice.

My heart is yours. Take it.

You’d done it one night when the two of you had gone on a two spin bender, which happened more towards the end of your glory days, when the drugs came easy and heavy and the illusion of time slipped by like sand on the wind.

Any time someone hired your services as cleaners, it took a toll. They didn’t do it often because of that, but the payout was worth the work. No matter how many times you swore you would never do it again, you went back. Because it was hard to ignore the way it felt to flood a deserving someone’s mouth with the taste of their own blood, or to slip a knife in between their ribs and let it slide like butter and watch the light die. It was hard to ignore that you liked it, especially when it was so violent—one of the worst sins to commit, and you enjoyed it.

The act of killing had become cathartic for you. It made you feel more alive, reminded you that you had a beating, bloody heart, and a brain, and veins that pumped blood, and muscles that tore apart and rebuilt themselves stronger. Killing came easy when you didn’t know the target. It felt like a game.

Ezra didn’t enjoy it as much as you did—not to say he didn’t enjoy it at all, for he most certainly did. But he didn’t process it the same way you did. He saw killing as a means to survive and a means to get where he needed to go. He enjoyed turning it into a game, making fun out of whatever circumstance presented itself.

But that one—the last one—it had gone wrong. Messy, slow, noisy, choppy. There was only supposed to be one person in the house: typical target, a man who owed the wrong people a whole lot of money and refused to pay up.

One man.

One man was all you’d expected.

One man was all you’d been instructed would be in the condo.

He went down easy enough, quiet enough—Ezra snuffed him and stuffed him and you’d made to transfer his points into the right pockets.

And that was that.

They had tossed the bodybag over the high-rise balcony and into the pits of the bottomless highway next to the building, with a blinker-bomb inside just in case.

That was that.

Except it wasn’t, it was so fucking far from it.

Ezra, being himself, had wanted so bad to sneak in a quickie before heading back—an unholy, immoral ritual you two had initiated, to fuck where you killed—and who were you to protest? Who were you to say no to pretty words and soft eyes glittering with an untamed wild? To say no to the hands that already ripped at gear and pushed beneath underwear just to get a taste—you couldn’t, it was impossible.

Fresh off a high of adrenaline, pulsing with nervous energy—he was always so good, he always got you right where you needed and then that much further.

And Ezra—being himself—could not keep his fucking mouth shut. The stereotype about men holding in their moans, about them never whimpering or whining or groaning or grunting—yeah, that was a load of Bearkie-shit.

Maybe it held true for some men, but.

Not your Ezra. Not even a little bit.

He talked like heaven’s mouthpiece—or maybe the devil, given all the sinful things he’d whisper to you in the crux of any given night. He let loose whatever noise he deemed necessary to make.

They’d only just made it to the dried, bloody stain on the carpet (a bed on which to copulate), knocking over a floating hilolamp and pulling a chuckle from your paramour, when a shout rang through the apartment and shattered your moment into a thousand pieces.

It was only supposed to be one. One man.

Instead, you were met with another man who you’d later learn to be his brother, the target’s mother, and his pregnant wife.

The man held onto some type of curved sports bat, keeping it up threateningly as if warning you of something imposing. Ezra didn’t hesitate to shoot him in the head, not even bothering to get up from where he’d pressed his hips between your legs. But then you’d had to go and check the other rooms, effectively killing any mood the two of you had shared.

Because fuck, where the men had no fight in them, the women wouldn’t go down without a struggle. Or maybe it was that you pitied them, and it distracted you. They’d already peeked their heads out from behind the door of the master bedroom, worried and doe-eyed and determined.

Maybe if they hadn’t seen your faces—if they’d still been asleep while you swept for warm bodies after the first assailant—maybe they’d have gotten out with their lives. But who were you kidding? You killed without thought. You’d likely have put a pillow over their heads before aiming your thrower and firing twice for good measure, had you been sharp and not distracted by a tongue in your mouth.

Instead, Ezra had the audacity to try to bargain with them. Something about having a soft spot for mothers—his own having been a beacon in his life until she left him orphaned as a young boy. He made it a point not to kill women and children. It was one thing in which he remained unwavering. (He’d kill a grown woman if she gave him reason to, like he had on Exon-5, but that was another story for another time, and a different circumstance which called for such measures, namely that of protecting you.) But he should have known better, he should have known not to try something like that. He should’ve known that he’d have to let go of the final shred of morality he held onto.

So Ezra took down the old woman in a way you still have yet to ask about and don’t care to know; and you’d ended with the pregnant woman choking on her own blood when you twisted your knife into the dip of her throat—and you felt awful about it after watching her crumble beneath you, but she’d hit you upside the head with a thick textbook of outdated skimmer-craft modules and it made you see red among pinpricks of stars.

And that night, after all was said and done they’d spent a fortune on getting high—just to forget, just to be okay.

That night they’d locked themselves in a self-imposed prison of satin sheets and destructive tendencies. Two days buzzing with no food, little water, just him and you and needles and spoons and eyedroppers and blades and pills. Like you couldn’t breathe if he didn’t fill you with all of him, you wouldn’t be able to stand upright if he took his hands off you and stopped letting you flood your veins with a chemical glow. Heavy eyelids, messy sex, raw arms and red eyes.

It felt fucking awful, coping that way, but it felt too fucking good and it made you forget about the lives you’d taken in (somewhat) cold blood.

So after sprawling beside him on the gigantic plush bed with his hand ghosting over your spine, you’d found a part of yourself snagged at the corner of this wild-eyed man’s tar-black soul, and you had thought about what could have happened in an alternate universe.

A moment when he was the target, you were (somehow) the pregnant wife, and you watched him die before succumbing to the dark of your own soul escaping you. And it made you desperate to cling to him as he was in the moment, desperate to know that he was yours and you were his. It was then that you’d asked him if you could mark him. Claim him, to know that he wouldn’t leave you like that, and if he did, he’d have a piece of you everywhere. He’d go down with a piece of you.

Ezra had been delighted, of course, as he was always one for symbolism and deeper meaning even if he didn’t quite understand the rhetoric. And it wasn’t the first time you’d marked each other, just a different time with a different meaning. So he let you dip a sterile needle in ink and plunge it into the tender skin of his chest.

You had one too, a heart on your sternum. Nestled between your breasts, just close enough to your heart to feel like it mattered, like it meant that he felt the same. But you didn’t even let yourself go that far—you two were doped up and delirious and he enjoyed marking you in any way he could, so an opportunity to stick and poke his way further into your skin than he already had was an opportunity he could not pass up. At least, that was how you saw it. Nevertheless, it made you happy to see it there on his chest, and to have one that matched.

Ezra’s soft voice snapped you from the memory.

“What’s crossed your mind to make you so delicate in your touch, so solemn in your stare?”

You realized you had stopped your ministrations and had planted your palm on his chest, staring just over his shoulder and onto the canvas beside him. With a careful hand, you resumed gentle motion over his pecs, up his clavicle, his throat.

“Thinking about Beta-Mobilia,” you whispered, unable to meet his eye, “And after.”

“Mm,” he grunted in recognition, the vibration tickling your fingertips, “Regrettable night. Unavoidable, necessary. But I dwell in shame identical to yours.”

“I don’t deserve to be here after that. I didn’t deserve to live after the Exons, The Grime. Why am I still alive?”

“We’ve discussed this in great length by now, siren. Don’t doubt your existence. It’s beyond sense, beyond comprehension.”

You nodded, still unable to look at him. But then he latched onto your wrist, brushing his calloused thumb over the delicate skin there, and this time you couldn’t keep your gaze away from the soft smile that begged to form on his lips.

“And I appreciate your tender care, wildfire,” he hummed, eyes glittering up at you like two dark pools of amber, “Where would I be without it? Mmm…mhm. Dead, likely. Or bitter. Wicked with taciturn rage. No meaning could come from that.”

“You, bitter and unspeaking? Unthinkable, I’d sooner pronounce you dead,” you drawled, thankful for his kindness to grant distraction, and he granted you an eye-roll. But his expression softened when you sat him upright and maneuvered behind him, wiping down his back in gentle strokes. You folded the cloth over once the side turned brown with grime, and moved up to his neck, scrubbing over his shoulders and giving short strokes down his nape and behind his ears.

“So you planned to go ravage the Queen without me, huh?” you asked quietly, irked that he hadn’t even come to find you before setting out on that venture, “Planned to leave me to rot on the Green, take the money for yourself and steal away with the girl.”

Ezra sighed, and you could see from behind his shoulder how he worked his jaw, formulating what to say.

“Understand that I do nothing without you willingly. Birdie over there’s about as fleeting as a real one. But trust that I planned to come get you—I’d never leave you stranded. I just couldn’t introduce another person into the threadbare alliance I had forged until the time was right.”

“She likes me,” you countered, smiling over at Cee, who now laid with her back facing you as her ribs contracted with the first breaths of sleep. A sign of trust. You didn’t know when exactly you’d earned it, but you’d accept it nonetheless. She had also taken both of your throwers (something you protested and Ezra waved off), so maybe that helped.

“No doubt—there’s plenty to like about you.”

Ever the flatterer, even when delirious with pain.

With a coy smile, you scrubbed over his head and then his face, careful to avoid his snapping mouth that reached out ever so often to nip at your hand—there was that playfulness, the natural effervescence of his presence. When you decided your work was done, you eased him back down on the cot and he allowed it with no protest.

You fluffed his pillow and moved the book you’d stashed beside it. He turned his head and pressed his nose to the pillow, grunting in mild appreciation.

“Smells like you down here,” he remarked with a half-smile, eyes drooping, “You sleep on my cot while I was away?”

“I missed you,” you whispered, nodding, just now aware of how much his presence affected you. To think that you had resolved to try to move on without him—it seemed ridiculous now.

“I missed you,” he returned, “You haven’t the slightest idea how much I wanted you beside me. Number Two was a fond ally but not a companion. Nothing like the banter we exchange, nor the secrets we share.”

“They never talked. I imagine your time away was just as lonely as mine.”

“Absolutely. I regret agreeing to leave with Two. But you know we couldn’t have trusted them to stay at camp while we went off—not absolutely. Not when they’d never spoken a word,” he chuckled and then coughed, a quiet rumble you felt against your leg as it zigzagged through his chest.

Thank Kevva you had a plan to leave now. The spent filter had taken a toll on Ezra—and it wasn’t even his to begin with. He insisted on giving you his when the one your new suit came with was almost completely used up.

Fuck the man for caring about you; he’d gone soft during your time on the Green, and you hated how much you loved it. Hated it because he needed to focus on himself, needed to stop putting you before him. Hated it because every day it made you feel like somehow, he loved you back. That somehow, he thought of you as more than just a constant in his life, more than a body to fuck and a brain to pick.

You’d grown used to each other. But his unpredictability oozed into every aspect of himself, every nook and cranny of his life, and you were too worried about fucking up a good thing over a simple conversation. All it took was one sensitive topic breached and you’d surely find yourself shit out of luck. He was all you had left of the scraps of a fucked up life. Without him, you’d make do but not without a struggle and not without reluctance. Some part of you knew he’d be the same even if he initiated a split.

The thought had you hurrying to tug his shirt on before gathering the cloths and scurrying to place the bucket near the front of the tent.

And you shouldn’t have been so scared to be honest with him—the two of you rarely kept things to yourselves. But to love someone so fully within your heart, to never want to be away from them, to never grow tired of their presence no matter how tedious they may be or frustrating they could get, it scared you.

“A kiss for the wounded?” Ezra asked, brown eyes wide and mouth pouty enough to break you from your racing mind. You softened then, padding back over to him on tiptoe and settling back at his side for a brief moment.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to grant him a kiss to his lips—the first one you’d shared with him in fuck knows how long. Too long, that was for sure, because when your lips notched with his chapped ones you melted, every worry and every qualm simply washed away in a swirl of pink pleasure.

You couldn’t help yourself—an indulgent, quiet moan pooled in your chest and slipped from your throat before you could stop it, and he hummed right back when his tongue pushed between your lips and you let him devour you. Always the ravager, ever a greedy bastard when it came to his pleasure, he licked up into your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours. It took very little for you to melt right into his chest, pressing your own against him and whimpering when he sneaked his hand up the hem of your shirt to rub circles over the skin of your back. You remained sloppy and almost lazy but intentional as you held either side of his nape and toyed with the strands of his still-damp hair, pouring yourself into this kiss like you’d never kiss him again.

Fuck. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. You missed this man with every vibrating inch of you. You missed his body, you missed his voice calling to you from the very depths of himself, you missed everything about him, and you needed him as close as possible. Closer than close, you needed him.

But fuck. You couldn’t. When you pulled back for air, it didn’t surprise you when he pressed his palm flat on your back to keep you from moving too far.

“Mm, baby—you’re divine. I ache for you,” he all but whimpered into your mouth, breath brutally hot and heavy as he fed you his soul, “Come sit down on me—come take what’s yours. I want to feel you strangle me, show me just how much you—”

“No, Ez,” you cut him off in a biting whisper, lips kiss-swollen, hating how, if there had been literally any other person in the tent beside you, you might’ve taken him up on the offer, “I want to, I promise you that. But she’s a kid and I have limits—one of those limits is fucking in the same room as one.” You glared at him with half a heart, then leaned down to run the tip of your nose along the curve of his ear, smiling when he shivered, “I swear, once we get out of here I’ll make it up to you so many times you’ll forget your own name. You get first choice—however you want me, I’m yours to take.”

“Fuck—alright, I apologize for my eagerness,” he smiled, tilting his head to kiss your forehead.

“But,” you whispered, your heart racing as you glanced over to be sure Cee had fallen asleep before inching up to look back into his eyes. Fuck it, he deserved it. “If you stay quiet, I’ll take care of you right now.”

His eyebrows raised in deft interest at your offer.

“Will you let me take care of you, Sailor?”

Ezra would never admit it, and you’d never tease him about it because it made you feel some kind of way—but he fucking adored when you used his callsign. You were his siren, after all. Only made sense for him to draw to you like a dying man at sea when you called for him. You used it rarely aside from in the field, opting for your preferred chatterbox—because he was more that than anything else—so it came as a treat when you decided to pull it from your bag of tricks.

“I can hardly refuse such a tempting offer.”

“Quiet, though,” you reminded him, tiptoeing your fingers across his chest and tugging the waistband of his pants and his underwear down. Just enough to spring his cock free, which was already hard and leaking for you.

Fuck, he was such a gorgeous sight, and you couldn’t help the urge to cup his balls and nudge them free too, to admire every glorious inch of him.

Spreading your fingers out over his groin through the coarse curls gone wild with mistreatment, you paid extra attention to the white patch of hair ghosting over the base of his cock and spreading out near his abdomen before stopping abruptly on the left and diverging back down into dark brown. You remember when you’d first noticed it and had all but squealed in delight.

Every bit of him was a pleasant surprise, just as you’d found yourself more than eager to let him ruin you for anybody else with the sheer size of him.

Nobody fucked you like they were dying and you were salvation; nobody but him. And shit, did he tear you open. As if he’d carved a space inside of you just for him, each time he’d leave you with a hollow ache that only he could sate.

“Baby,” you purred in a whisper, kissing his hipbone and then leaning up to wrap your hand around the girth of him, rubbing your thumb over the weeping red of the head, “You’re so pretty for me like this.” Forever a glutton for compliments, he whimpered his soft appreciation and you hushed him accordingly. He was so thick, so big that you struggled to touch the tip of your middle finger to your thumb, so long that if you had planned to swallow him down tonight, you would’ve been needing your hand to help. But tonight you could not risk the absolutely filthy noise of you gagging on him; he’d likely cum faster and in less time to worry about waking up a certain tentmate, but you wanted to watch every muscle in his face twitch, wanted to see him take his pleasure unobstructed by your tears. This way was quieter.

So with that thought in mind, you shifted to straddle one of his thighs so you could watch him without tiring your hand in an awkward position. Then you let a string of spit drool down and over him and you gave him a twist and then more, sharp and sudden and fast in your movements as opposed to the slow, appreciative way you’d unsheathed him.

Ezra hissed out a curse, bucking up into your hand, “Shit, darlin’—“

Arching an eyebrow, you halted your work on him immediately. His pulse beat through the throbbing vein jutting out

“What did I tell you?” you snapped. With your free hand you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his neck, feeling the column of his throat contracting as he swallowed. Wide brown eyes looked up at you, a tinge of amusement in their stare.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” you asked in a low rasp, tightening your grip on his neck and giving him a little shake before going slack again, “I don’t wanna hear a single word come outta that pretty-boy mouth. If I do, I’m blue-balling you. Fair?”

Ezra nodded, his gorgeous fat mouth blessedly shut for once.

“Good boy,” you cooed, kissing him before forcing his jaw open and spitting in his mouth. It would’ve been cruel but you meant it so affectionately, and his gentle moan told you he was more than willing to accept it.

You felt his cock twitch beneath your fingers and you simpered, giving a little shimmy of your shoulders in appreciation.

Controlling this stubborn man, resorting him to silence made you feel powerful. It made you feel respected, worshipped; if the man who never shut up and always called the shots would gladly take the backseat and grant you the power to take charge, that meant more than you could wish for.

So you resumed pumping his cock, working him with both hands and then switching to hold onto his throat again before going back to two hands. The act still made quite some noise—filthy and wet and sloppy—but at this point you were less concerned about it than you had been prior. When you decided, despite his tip dripping precum, to spit down onto him again for the fun of it and twist him with a gentle tug, he couldn’t stop the whine that left him even with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It had you darting to clamp over his mouth, shooting daggers down at him as he stared up with a silent apology in his eyes, one you might have taken as genuine if not for the way the brown of his irises had disappeared into black, blown out with lust and glassy with pleasure.

“If you’re gonna cum, let me know so you can do it in my mouth. I just cleaned you up and I’m not doing it again.”

The last bit came out harsher than you meant but he took it all the same, biting back a grunt in the form of a sharp exhale as he twitched violently in your hand. Yeah, he didn’t really need to let you know when he was about to blow; you knew him too well. At that, you took it upon yourself to remove your hand from his mouth in favor of scooting to lean down and put your mouth over his angry, swollen tip, flinching at the way the frame creaked but ignoring it and opting to swirl your tongue over him instead.

“There it is,” you whispered with an arguably evil smile—quickly, before pulling him back into the heat of your mouth, resuming your work and grunting when he bucked up into your mouth, chasing the high you were drawing out of him.

Ezra came with a muffled, broken sob, his face buried in his arm as he bit down on his bicep, flexing and squeezing his fingers. A thick stream of his cum hit the roof of your mouth and you indulged him, taking him in further so you could swallow everything he gave you. Ropes and ropes and ropes of cum, like he hadn’t let himself get off in so long, like he’d been saving all of it for you. The thought made you whine around him, and you pulled off when he finished, flashing him your dripping tongue with his spend still on it and drawing it back in before any of it could spill.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighed, letting out a quiet, breathy laugh as he tugged on the front of your shirt to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue.

This time when you pulled back and smiled, you granted him a toothy grin, goofy and knowing. It took you a minute not to giggle like a little kid as you carded your fingers through his hair. He grinned right back, still catching his breath. To you, he was gorgeous, inside and out, flaws and all. You wanted to fuck him right then. You wanted to make love to him, to let him fill you entirely and to sob into his mouth, showing him everything you couldn’t tell him.

“Get some sleep,” you settled on instead, slipping off the cot with little grace after replacing the waistband of his pants, “We head out early tomorrow.”

“Hey now, what about you?” Ezra asked, brows drawn together in concern that you wouldn’t find the same enjoyment he did.

“You’ll just owe me.” You winked then, and gave him one last kiss, which he hummed into with a great appreciative rumble.

Then you pressed your forehead into his, “Mine—you’re mine. Never leave me again or I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself. You’re everything.”

Because he was.

“Nothing without you.”

That was his response, always always always. To hear it again pricked tears in your eyes, so much so you squeezed them shut.

And once again, you caught yourself wanting to say it. This time it had ghosted in your throat, almost making it into the curve of your mouth for you to hold its shape and give voice to a thought. But you stopped it before it could get far. Those three words, the same ones that now haunted you since you’d decided to indulge in every reminiscence involving them. Somehow he had come back to you, a feat which could not be commended enough, but now you ached for him—yearned for him even stronger than if he had well and truly died.

As you settled down onto the floor beside him, those three torturous words surfaced into a memory. The one that, among other fears, made you ever so hesitant to admit just how much you loved him.

————————————

“—In that vein, I don’t find myself in particular need of a great, star-shattering love story. If love is all-encompassing, I can do without the obstacle. Romanticizing my life and its quarrels is satisfaction enough.”

You didn’t know why you were still listening. You just knew that if Ezra kept it up, you’d find a way out of this cell just to break into his and strangle him. Anything to get him to shut the hell up. Banging your head methodically against the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t even try to hold back your groan of displeasure as he rambled on.

“Now, don’t doubt my skill in worship. I have plenty of practice in the art of copulation”—you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face—“To say I haven’t affixed my interests on one soul or another at some point in time would ordain me a liar. I simply prefer to remain lovers in action…and not in name nor feeling. Companionship…yes, it’s something we all yearn for. It can’t be helped. A warm body, a brain to pick. All wonderful facets to enjoy for the sake of one’s own baser desiderata. But—“

“Shut up,” you bit out through gritted teeth, tugging at the roots of your hair when he kept going and you had to repeat yourself, “Shut up, you goddamned chatterbox. I don’t give a fuck about your love life. Why are you even talking about this?”

A brief silence occupied the space, as if he was thoroughly perplexed by your outburst. Then he let out a huffed laugh, amused.

“You inquired about the specifics of my occupation, little thorn.”

Every time he used that nickname for you—the thorn in my side—it made you bristle. Especially when he used it almost affectionately, soothingly, full of calm and charm that had you balling your fists and pricking the skin of your palms with your fingernails. You despised him, and he treated your existence as a joke, or as a little pet he would grab from its cage and admire before tossing it back and neglecting it until he deemed its presence acceptable again. Everything was funny. Everything could be laughed at. Sometimes you didn’t mind when the guards came to beat him bloody; it made him shut up, whether from pain or because he had passed out.

“Prospecting has nothing to do with love,” you snapped, shoulders tense despite the ache in your body. If these fuckers holding you captive didn’t kill you, the stress of surviving next to this fucker surely would.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, suddenly serious, “Love for others, at least. Love for the dig, love for the hunt and the adventure—that’s a different narrative altogether. Which is why I deemed it appropriate to explain such measures. The lifestyle I settled for is no small undertaking. It comes with sacrifice.”

His condescension was unintentional but still stabbed and poked at you like keepers at a circus.

————————————

It comes with sacrifice. That it did.

That long-ago night haunted you to this day.

But Ezra had his mind focused on softer dreams as he broke you from your self-destruction once more.

“Nights like these make me keen to hear you sing for me again,” he lilted out through the dark, a reminiscent simper pulling at his mouth and crinkling his eyes as he shifted to look down at you, “The melody of your voice haunts the halls of my midnight reveries. But it is such a sweet possession—as though I willed a ghost to enchant me with her gift. A siren indeed. Lure me into the sea of your deception, try to pull me under like the rest of them. But not me. No…not me—I float like driftwood in the breeze…follow the tides of your affection. Somehow I remain unscathed, and you lap at me in gentle waves.”

“Such powerful words from a man who should be asleep,” you chuckled quietly, pressing your lips to the back of his hand where you held onto it now, fingers laced.

“I am but a vendor of poetry. And you, a weaver of melody. Sing for me, siren,” he murmured, his voice thick with the drowsy pull of lassitude. He hadn’t asked that of you in so long you had almost forgotten what it felt like to hear it. Almost. And you would have agreed to it, but—

“No, the girl, she—“

“I don’t mind,” Cee interrupted, quiet and soft. It surprised you; you thought she had fallen asleep—you didn’t want to wake her with your singing. And then you were—

Shit. You sincerely hoped she had just woken up due to Ezra’s long-winded soliloquy about your singing, and hadn’t heard anything else beyond that. Mm, no. You think she would’ve said something about how fucking gross it was. Or pulled a thrower on you.

“As well you shouldn’t,” Ezra chuckled, turning his head to grin at the girl where she had turned to face him on the opposite cot, “She sings like Kevva strung her throat with gold. Or the very strings of a harp.”

You blushed and ducked your head into your shoulder, embarrassed by his flattery. Looked to him and found his honey-dark eyes drinking you in from above, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he flattened his palm over your chest and rubbed it affectionately. “What would you like to hear?” you asked, running a hand over your hair and shifting on the floor to calm your nerves.

It was just Ez.

…and a girl who harbored a teen angst bigger than ten moons; fuck if you wanted her to judge you.

“Whatever tickles your fancy,” he replied, his grin wider now that you’d agreed, “You know I’m not particular to any one hymn—I find myself enraptured by it all.”

“Okay.” You pondered for a moment before settling on one of your favorites.

Then you sang.

Quietly, nervously at first in an unpracticed rasp, then growing more steady and mellow and soft.

Some swirling folk melody from your childhood in your native tongue, one you’d never forget even if someday you lost your memory. A lullaby for village children; a lilting work song for the women to hum when laundering clothes at the stream, soothing the babies strapped to their backs or their chests or both.

It told the story of a curious young girl who loved the stillness of the ocean, found peace in its silky depths. She liked the silence so much that she would spend hours beneath the water, training to hold her breath and exploring the creatures of the reef and listening to the wavering silence.

Until one humming summer night she swam so deep the water turned black. She was scared she wouldn’t be able find her way back home but she reveled in the quiet—the quiet that not even the nighttime forest could provide, nor the village when the hunters and scavengers left for work. It was then that she saw a light shining from the deep, and decided to chase it.

Down, down, down.

And down. Until the light became so bright it surrounded her, seeped into her until she did not know where she began and it ended. No pain, no fear surrounded her. Just a sense of calm, and peace.

And she became the moon, the biggest one in the sky. The silence up there was incomparable.

The song was meant as a warning to the village children not to wander too far from the town and somehow find themselves in the cove breaching the outer mountain range. A warning to stay away, else you’d become one of the many moons in the sky, never to return to your family and the life you loved.

But you’d always found it more compelling than that, more meaningful, because the story originated from a similar legend of the moon goddess your village worshipped, the deity of the biggest satellite in your skies. The minor difference came in the detail that she chose to become the Great Moon after divine conversation instead of chasing a light down into the deep on a whim. And there was a ceremony held to initiate her transition into a celestial body.

When you’d wrapped up the lullaby you found yourself more at peace than you’d felt in a long time. You didn’t like to think about your planet, nor your village, nor the tragedies that occurred there. But this memory was a happy one, filled with sleepy eyes and chubby fingers grabbing onto mothers’ cloaks, and getting tucked into warm soft blankets by a fireplace.

“Sweet siren,” Ezra whispered in a drowsy slur, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he turned to rest on his back, “Never fail to soothe me even when ’m in utmost anguish.”

And with that, he left you in silence, and you knew he wasn’t far from sleep.

By the time his breath evened out, you felt your eyes drooping.

Fuck, you were exhausted.

This spin had been arguably more eventful than any you’d had in a long while, and it didn’t occur to you that you could be tired when you’d hardly done much until the action rolled in.

The floor was actually not half bad, given that you laid on the tarp that absorbed heat but quickly cooled when you moved. The nights here got cold, surprisingly. But Ezra’s hand hanging down and resting across your chest felt so good. The weight of him, the heat of him, it grounded you. You circled patterns into his upturned palm until you became too sleepy for that, settling on threading your fingers with his and feeling his pulse beneath your fingertips.

How dare he think you’d care for him less with only one arm? If anything, it showed his perseverance, his will to move forward and make hard decisions. Only something a man with determination could do.

He felt so warm and sure—steady. He was safe now that he had come back. You felt the inky black of sleep begin to wash over you as organized thought became jumbled feeling.

You didn’t have to worry anymore, not about his whereabouts. Everything was alright. It was as good as it had been in quite a while.

Everything would be alright, you could just…

Just…

“I wish my parents had loved each other like that,” Cee murmured in the quiet dark of the tent, rendering you wide awake with a jolt, as if someone had plunged a shot of adrenaline into your chest.

“They separate?” you managed, knowing it came out strange but not wanting to confirm or deny anything about you and Ezra. The silence that greeted you implied that she had had no intention of you hearing it. But she spoke regardless.

“No,” she scoffed, then went quiet for a moment, “My mom died when I was little. And I can’t remember what they were like together. We were always working so there wasn’t a lot of time for love between them.”

Oh. An orphan. It softened you a little more for her, made you more sympathetic to the fact that Ezra had killed her last living parent. You were an orphan too. So was he.

“We’re all missing parts of our family in some way or another. People with worldly attachments don’t usually sign up for this level of intensity. Not the strays, anyhow.”

“But you have each other,” she insisted.

“By chance alone. We didn’t start off liking each other. And we’re not…married, or anything.”

The last bit came out strangled—you’d never…said something like that aloud.

You and Ezra, married? It was odd, to say the least. You never thought of yourself as one to desire marriage in any respect—ceremonial, legal, the like. It just didn’t sit well with you. Too many complications, a lot of governing body involvement that you didn’t care for.

And Ezra…he wasn’t too fond of it either. But not because he didn’t want it, that much he’d admitted to you one night after admitting the complications of his feelings on his love life, ones that somewhat contradicted the first time he told you about it all; he couldn’t have it, he’d never let himself believe even a fraction of him deserved it. The life of a floater—and sure, just as Cee’s parents had prospected and been married (you assumed) and had a kid, many others did the same. But then you supposed it ended with kids like Cee, and she was lucky to not lay dead next to her idiot father, or trapped and sold as a body in the Dark-Spawn Trades. Lucky Ezra wasn’t filthy and depraved, lucky you were once young and scared like her and so took it upon yourself to keep her in your sights for now.

“How’d you meet?”

A chuckle bubbled out of you as you sat up and ran your fingers through Ezra’s hair, watching his chest rise and fall in even strokes, thinking back on that night so long ago.

“Stealing supplies from the same drop company. Two feral dogs fighting over who deserved it more. We bickered and threatened so much we lost track of time and made a mess and a ruckus and got caught.” A smile threatened to break your features and you let it, for just a moment. It faded as you recalled your awful encounter, “Captured, tortured for information because they thought we worked for a rival mining company. They wanted the locations of dig-sites we didn’t have, mining techniques we didn’t know. When he brought up the Wastes earlier…that’s what he meant. Surprised we didn’t die, but they really thought we were valuable or something.”

You gave yourself a minute before continuing. In a panic, you rubbed circles over the tattoo on the web of Ezra’s hand between his thumb and forefinger, trying to ground yourself as wicked, blood-specked memories flooded your head.

Deep breath. You’re safe, he’s here. This will be good to get off your chest. You’ve never spelled it out to anyone before. Nobody’s ever asked. Maybe this girl is a gift from the universe, maybe she was sent here to give you space to heal. Deep breath. You’re safe. He’s here.

You eventually pressed the back of his limp hand to your cheek, and found your voice once more. You didn’t need to worry about waking him; once he conked out into REM sleep it took a freight train to wake him up. At least, when he was with you he always slept deeper. He’d told you one night; how it helped to have you there, like you dragged all the bad memories and nightmares away, pulling them so far out of reach he only found thoughtless, worry-free sleep.

“Hearing someone’s screams from the other side of a cell wall makes you more susceptible to care about them. A bonding experience, so to speak. He’d talk to me for hours on the nights they made us sit and anticipate another session. Recited poetry, recalled stories from his time as a prospector as an escape from our reality. I would sing for him, when we knew the guards had left. It was how we got to know each other. It’s—that’s why he calls me his siren. The reason I call him a chatterbox, among other obvious explanation.”

“How’d you get out?” Cee asked, resting her cheek on her hands as she laid on her side, watching you with keen interest.

“Killed them,” you rasped, not wanting to go into the gory details, “Every single one.”

For nights you had laid awake, haunted by memories of blood staining your only pair of clothes, blood splattering into your mouth, chunks of brain matter on Ezra’s gloves as he dragged you through a maze of tents and established buildings, viscera on your recovered suit, the way you’d had to swallow bile back down your esophagus at the sight of all the lives you’d taken. But you had to do it; it’s what you told yourself when the images would replay every time you closed your eyes.

Vengeance, necessity, paired with Ezra’s seemingly insatiable bloodlust—and your own. Your own shameful desire to incite violence, one you bred in the early years of your youth and had stuffed away until needed.

But you hadn’t been able to deny that, when Ezra shot a man who’d pinned you to the ground and then finished him off with a knife spurting blood out his neck, it stirred your blood something wild. Hearing him panting through the transmitter, grunts and curses as he tore through humans and humanoids and alien creatures alike right beside you. Hearing him call out targets, watching your six, taking single-word direction from you when you did the same.

They worked like a well-oiled machine, like you two had never not known the other. And he was sloppy in his technique, grounded more in brute force than strategy—but you made up for that in quick, evasive maneuvers and stealth. Both of you had near-perfect aim and could work around the clunky gear of your suits.

Messy—pools of blood, the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage crushed beneath your hands and your feet and your knife and whatever other weapon you scavenged along the way.

It felt like a ritual. A baptism of carnage that ensured neither one of you could live without the other.

So of course, when it all was over and the last vertebra snapped—

—there had been filthy, unhinged, surely unsanitary, bio-hazardous fucking in a tent surrounded by carnage.

Fucking in way you could only describe as feral.

Unrestrained.

Hot, Kevva’s saints was it brutally hot and so needy—but also so, so tender.

Full of soft emotion. Unspoken, even for Ezra’s standards. Almost loving.

Your aching bodies, exhausted and weak and battered, dragged lazily against one another once both of you had ceased the initial writhing pace of passion and the adrenaline ebbed. It tasted tinny like blood and musky like spit and salty with sweat and tears, and if nothing more, it was real. Whispering about how fuck, they’d made it and god, they were on the same level, we made it, baby—can’t live without you, I need you I need you I need you—

That day was quite possibly your favorite memory as well as one of your darkest. The day that you knew, in the charred, most twisted part of you, that you’d follow this man to the ends of every planet, to the far reaches of the universe—and he’d very well do the same.

Of course, you shared none of that with Cee.

“We took down the main base of the entire company. They were small but well-endowed. Got to transfer points into our accounts and sort through the mining equipment and the food,” you offered instead after a long bout of silence, “And the spoils of their labor. We were rich, could have retired early.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You debated whether to lie or tell her the truth, deciding on the latter. This girl wasn’t a threat, she genuinely wanted to know. “Ezra and I have—had a certain…interest in finding thrill wherever we can.”

Cee quirked an eyebrow, and you elaborated, “It’s not something to romanticize, we certainly weren’t smart about our spending. Gambling, drugs, slingshot scooter racing, smuggled creature ring-fights. The risk makes winning worth it. It was addicting. We earned a lot. Uncountable amounts of money. But we spent it all and then spent more. Pulled stunts that not even the most daring would try. Heists, intel-theft for enemies of certain people. We got caught up in it. Eventually drowned in a swamp of debt and unrequited favors. Got put on watchlists by the head crime syndicate and peace officers alike in the Core Worlds because we got cocky. Sloppy. So many people want our heads on a stake that we’d be better off dying out here. It’d be ironic, given the executions we deserve.”

You shuddered at the thought of Karolclan and their unusual procedures for punishment. They wanted you the most—you owed them the most. Them and Omni-Five. But Karolclan was decidedly worse.

“Why are you still mining? Wouldn’t it be easier to hide somewhere less dangerous?”

“We have debts to pay, bird,” you sighed, fond of the nickname Ezra gave her as it fit her well, “It’s the only honest work we can get without a biotracker recognizing our scans or someone realizing that the burner names and scouting codes we give them are bullshit. We work alone—no drop company, no mining corps. Until we can get our names cleared and our bio-scans off the watchlist, we can’t do shit else.”

If nothing more, Karolclan did allow debt payoff. But only if you could evade their capture, and only if you had the means to satisfy compounded interest. They were brutal, ruthless.

“He said you had a crew…and a ship…before you ended up stranded.”

“We did. A group of people like us. But you can imagine that a group of outlaws don’t always see eye to eye—buncha hotheaded criminals. Fought over aurelac, argued over fair shares, resources, everything.”

That wasn’t the whole story.

It started as a dispute over aurelac, but had quickly turned into a spat against Ezra, why he had so many successful harvests and surely he was stealing or cheating, how it wasn’t fair that you two were attached at the hip and didn’t section off when you split into groups to cover more land. In the heat of argument and the desperation of man, that had morphed into threats against you—Why don’t you fucking share her, Ezra? We all have needs and she’s barely good at the dig-sites. Put her to use somewhere else or we’ll find a use for her, and that devolved into Might take her right from under you if you don’t watch yourself, don’t be surprised if you hear her struggle tonight.

You had gotten used to the crude commentary, the snickers and wolf-whistles when you bent over, and if they had tried to somehow steal you away in the night, they’d have been reminded that you slept fully armed and showed no mercy to anyone who touched you unless they knew just where to start—and only one person did.

But that…that had not gone over well with him. It ended before you even knew what he did, and pretty soon you had a dead crewmate spilling blood over your boots while the familiar sound of throwers charging up rang in your ears, all of them pointed at the man panting beside you. The only one from the group to live and remain on the Green had been Two, and honestly you were never fond of them but weren’t surprised when they helped you and Ezra take the heat off your backs—they always teamed up with you two and they were good at what they did. It was a shame they were gone—despite their silence and threatening demeanor and sometimes uncalculated moves in a plan, they never made a move to harm either of you; they just wanted to harvest and get out like you did. Better them than Ezra, though. You’d have genuinely lost your mind if they had shown up in his stead.

“Did you kill the crew too?”

“Only a few,” you said honestly, “The others left us stranded when they realized we’d kill them next. Number Two was our only ally. Now they’re dead.”

You laid back down and put Ezra’s hand across your chest again, “Get some rest now. We’ve got a long day ahead of us. And if you choose to kill him while we sleep—kill both of us.”

You didn’t know why you’d felt compelled to say that, but revealing such a dark part of yourself to her convinced you that she’d plant a bolt in you or Ezra’s head and run. Ezra was the more likely target, given his history with the girl. It was irrational, for the most part; if she truly wanted him dead she would have let his wound kill him. Or she would have shot him sooner. But you couldn’t be too sure.

And you’d sooner die than wake up to him cold next to you.

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #anya writes #ohhhh boy! a second installment #pedrostories #ezra smut #cacoethes

82 notes · View notes

rowanaelinn · 3 years

Text

Fire on Fire - Chapter Three

Chapter two // Chapter four

“My head’s gonna explode,” Elide Lochan sighed before she drank two big gulps of water as if she had been thirsty for days. Aelin knew the feeling. She’d been working for two hours now but it felt like ten. The bar was so hot and the music so loud, she couldn’t wait to go home and come back to the silence of her room.

Today was her first day and of course, it was a Saturday night, the busiest night of the week. The uniform, which was basically only a tight white shirt and a pair of black booty shorts, was one of the other reasons Aelin decided she hated this job but only stayed for the money. Aelin had been lucky today if you can call it that, but unfortunately, that luck didn’t extend to Elide.

Some douche-bags slapped her ass when she served him his drink, and of course, all his friends howled with laughter. As if sexual harassment was some kind of joke. The moment Elide mentioned this incident, Aelin had wanted to slam the guy's head on the table but Elide stopped her. The customer was always right and both Aelin and Elide needed this job too much.

They had decided not to tell their co-worker Manon about that, Aelin and Elide had already worked with her before and Aelin knew where Manon was, violence usually followed. It was something Aelin loved about that woman, and she also found it hot as hell. Okay, maybe she had a bit of a crush on the white-haired woman. But in Aelin’s defense, Elide did have a crush on her too. It was like a general experience.

“Do you think we’ll be fired if we don’t go back?” Aelin put her cold bottle of water against the back of her neck, in an attempt to cool her down.

“Definitely, Rofle is a dick. I mean have you seen this outfit?” The brunette turned on herself and gestured to the more than revealing clothes. Aelin agreed, if her cousin saw her in this outfit he would have a heart attack. She was suddenly glad this bar opened last week, at least Aedion didn’t know this place. Yet.

“Girls,” Nesryn interrupted them. “Break’s over. Go back to work.”

Aelin undid her ponytail, a forbidden hairstyle in this bar apparently, and went back behind the counter. She wore her best fake smile and ignored the lingering looks on her breast or her backside, winked and flirted back when clients thought they had a chance of taking her home with them. Aelin hid her disgust of these men pretty good, she was proud of herself for it.

She would quit if she wasn’t low on money lately. For hell’s sake, Aedion was paying half of her rent. It had been a very long discussion between them, Aelin would rather live on the street than depend on someone. Aelin got convinced when Aedion made it clear if she didn’t accept he would call her parents. So Aelin put her pride aside and accepted, at the only condition Aedion let her pay him back whenever she could. He had argued but accepted. The Ashryver family wasn’t very good at compromise, but at least they tried.

“Aelin, go take the order of table nine,” Manon yelled at her over the background noise. Aelin gave her a thumb up as she kept pouring alcohol in the shaker.

When Aelin was done making this cocktail she wiped her hands and walked toward table nine. She looked down to grab her little booklet and pen she left in one of the pockets of her apron as she said, “Hi, welcome to the sea dragon, what can I-” She stopped as she took in who was sitting in front of her. Lorcan Salvaterre, Fenrys, Connall Moonbeam, and of fucking course, gods-damned Rowan Whitethorn. She took a deep breath and smiled, but she knew her fake smile wasn’t as convincing as it was minutes before.

She focused on Fenrys and Connall, the only ones she could stand at that table. “What can I get you?”

Fenrys had an amused look on his face, accentuated by his smirk full of wickedness. “So this is your new job?” He asked, and if she didn’t know him the look could be considered genuine.

“You knew it, Fen. I told you hours ago.” Rowan’s head whipped to Fenrys, and Aelin’s face suddenly mirrored Fenrys’s. She didn’t know what the blonde had in mind, but if it annoyed Whitethorn, Aelin was on board. Rowan’s head turned back toward her and he narrowed his eyes. “Got something on my face, Whitethorn?” She couldn’t help it, she had to always argue with him.

“Yeah, all that make-up,” his eyes roamed over her body, it took everything in her not to move under the weight of his gaze. “What’s that outfit anyway?” His disdain was quite obvious.

“My uniform, dumbass.” She tightened her grip around her pen and notebook so much that her knuckles turned white. “Be careful, it almost sounds like you care.” It was one of the most sarcastic things she had ever said in her life, the look in his eyes was enough proof.

“Why would I care about you when you’re dressed like a stripper?” He crossed his arms and Aelin had to force herself not to stare at his muscles and at the tattoo on his arms. He was a handsome bastard and it made him quite hard to hate.

“So, no respect for sex workers, Whitethorn? Why am I not surprised?”

“No, actually I respect them a lot. You’re the only person I don’t respect.” It took everything in her not to punch him in the face right now, but that’s what he was waiting for. It was like he loved to see her lose control.

“I’m going to enjoy spitting in your drink.”

“Do that and I’ll have a nice chat with your boss, good luck to find another job, princess.” He was getting angry, Aelin loved that, it meant she was winning their little game.

“Feel free to do it, it just means you’ll have to share that splendid bathroom with me longer.” She winked at him and wiggled her brows. Rowan clenched his jaw, another sign of his anger.

“Can you two stop for a minute? I’m thirsty.” Lorcan Salvaterre interrupted them and Aelin rolled her eyes. She wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with Lorcan either, but instead of always arguing as she did with Rowan, they just ignored each other.

“Who are they?” Elide asked as Aelin prepared her roommates’ order. The four of them wanted a beer, classic.

“Two of them are the bane of my existence and the two others annoying but very pretty.”

“I want him in my bed,” Elide said as she bit her lip. Aelin whipped her head toward the guys, trying to know which one she was talking about.

“I have no idea which one you’re already planning to get naked but one of them is gay and the other three aren’t good options.”

“Great, I don’t want good and I don’t want to be good. And It’s the tall one.” Elide winked and left before Aelin could say anything. Of course, Elide would be attracted to Lorcan. Alein went back to their table, accidentally spilling a little bit of Rowan’s beer on him when she accidentally tripped. He swore at her but she decided to ignore it, instead, she pushed him so she could sit next to him to be right in front of Lorcan.

“You,” She pointed at Lorcan, with her smile full of mischief.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She shook his head and she heard the twins laugh.

“What’s your type of woman?”

“Everything you aren’t.”

“I’m gonna look past that insult because I am an amazing woman,” she was cut off by Rowan’s snort. “You shut up, you’re thirty and still single.” She looked back at Lorcan but heard Rowan correct her on his age. His highness was still twenty-nine for three months. “What about 5”2, brunette, very very scary. She’s also one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen, but unfortunately, she doesn’t have good taste. I’m not her type but you are.” She winked at him. Rowan muttered something that sounded a lot like “We aren’t teenagers anymore” but she ignored him.

Lorcan furrowed his brow, Aelin could see him hesitate. “Where?”

“Want to see her dance?” Aelin didn’t wait for the answer and walked back to the bar.

Rowan was mesmerized.

The moment Aelin Ashryver Galathynius started dancing was the moment he lost his mind.

He hated her for it, hated her for being the first thing anyone looked at when they entered a room. Hated her for being the most attractive woman he had seen in a while.

She had been raised to become this. Well, not to become a barmaid in a piss-poor bar in Doranelle. But to become the type of woman everyone looked at, everyone wanted.

With Evalin Ashryver as her mother, how could Aelin become something else? Her mother was an incredible actress, and one of the most famous ones. She was also known for being cunning, ambitious, and beautiful as a sin.

And with Rhoe Galathynius as her father, Aelin knew how to captivate an audience. Rhoe was a legend of football. Whenever he played, all eyes were on him. He was smart and as cunning as his wife, a perfect match if you listened to the papers. That’s probably why he was a coach now, and that’s also why his team almost always won.

So Aelin was born with amazing genes, a talent to bewitch everyone who looked at her, and a bank account bigger than anyone should have. That’s why he didn’t understand why she would be working here and living with five guys instead of just having a big apartment in the richest part of town. But Aedion had told everyone to never mention her parents, so they all listened. Everyone was careful to do just that, maybe because Lysandra had threatened to cut their favorite body part and to make them eat it if they ever mentioned Rhoe’s or Evalin’s name. All that the day they met her when she was one month away from turning eighteen.

Now this she-devil had him under her spell. He couldn’t stop looking at the way her hips moved perfectly on beat with the music, at the way her hands wandered over her stomach, the side of her breast, and then lifted her hair in the air. Or even at how close she was to her friend, the one who is apparently interested in Lorcan. Both of them were giving a show, and when Rowan finally looked away from the blonde it was to find almost every man with their eyes on her. She knew what she was doing, he knew she did. It made him want to yell at her, even at work she couldn’t help but want attention.

Aelin turned her head, and their eyes met. Rowan sat straighter, swallowing. Her sinful mouth turned into a smirk and she accentuated her hips’ movements, aware of Rowan’s eyes on her. It was also something they did, along with arguing. They caught the other checking the other out, but wouldn’t call them on it. They would never bring it up, it was like a secret between them. He shouldn’t find the idea of sharing something with her so exciting.

She never stopped looking at him as she danced, sometimes she would bit her lip, sometimes her hands would wander on her breasts. He had to stop himself from growling as his cock hardened. Aelin was a sin.

Who did she think she was? He hated her, he made that clear. She hated him, and she had also made that clear. Why did she feel the need to tease him? She was trying to mess with him, and it was working.

The bubble broke when one of Aelin’s coworkers interrupted her, telling her and her friend she was dancing with to go back to work. Rowan couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she walked back behind the counter. He would have felt bad for it, wasn’t it for the slight sway of her hips and the look she threw at him when she started serving people again.

“I want her.” Lorcan almost grunted, and against his best wishes and even if they weren’t talking about the same girl, Rowan agreed.

Aelin wasn’t tired, no, tired wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what she was feeling. It was almost three in the morning and her shift ended in one hour, thank god she wasn’t supposed to close the bar today.

A customer asked for another sex on the beach, his fourth of the night. Aelin smiled as she prepared it but decided it would be his last of the night. Rofle didn’t want his barmaids to stop clients from drinking because more drinking means more money. But all the money in the world wasn’t worth the customers’ life. She would never forgive herself if someone had a car accident or became an alcoholic because of the drink she served. She gave the drink and took the man’s car keys, saying she would call a cab when he wanted to leave.

Aelin’s phone started ringing and when she saw who was calling her she sighed. If she was tired now it would be worse by the end of the night.

“Hello,” She answered as she got into a cupboard to find some quiet.

“Hi, you’re Aelin Galathynius?” A deep male voice asked. From the tone of his voice, the man must be as exhausted as Aelin was.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Aelin already regretted picking up this gods damned phone.

“I’m sorry to bother you but a guy’s at my bar. He’s tall-”

“Yeah, I know exactly who it is. Let me guess, he is drunk and absolutely refuses to call a taxi because taxis are disgusting. He also told you to call me, didn’t he?”

“You got it all right.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “Where’s your bar?” She nodded when he told her the address and told him she would be here in half an hour.

Aelin went to Elide, apologized, and asked her to cover the rest of her shift. Elide understood, it wasn’t the first time Aelin had to leave for the same reason. Elide was pissed but not because she had more work, but because she didn’t want Aelin to go.

Aelin took her car and drove, maybe a little slower than she should but it was night. Roads were dangerous, especially on a Saturday night. Aelin parked right in front of the sidewalk. She took her phone and wanted to text Aedion to tell him she would be late but her phone was dead. Amazing.

Aelin walked into the bar and realized she didn’t take time to change clothes, she was still in her uniform. She crossed her arms, trying to cover her chest as best as she could. Even if she had liked to have Rowan Whitethorn watching her tonight, she didn’t want anyone else to look at her this way.

It didn’t take long to see who had called Aelin, she walked toward him, the bartender looked relieved someone would come to pick him up. “I’m gonna take that.” She told him, and he gave her the car keys. Aelin turned her head to grey eyes watching her body, of course, he would notice her lack of clothing. “Let’s get you home,” Aelin said, trying her best not to let her anger out, it’s not going to help tonight.

“Hello, darling,” Arobynn purred.

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @mx—spelled //

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #fire on fire #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius

102 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 291: The Endeavor Pamphlet

Previously on BnHA: Dabi showed up atop Gigantomachia’s back and was all “you’ll never guess who I really am!” and the readers humored him and were all “who?” and he was all “TODOROKI TOUYA” and we were all “WOW └(・。・)┘ OH MY GOSH I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED”, except for Shouto and Enji who were GENUINELY SHOCKED. Anyway so Touya was all “and guess what I’m doing right now!” and before anyone could even try, he was all, “STREAMING MY EMMY-NOMINATED MINISERIES ‘HELLO, I’M EVIL BUT ALSO TRAGIC AND SEXY, NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY DAD WHO SUCKS’’, THAT’S WHAT.” And everyone was all “oh my god” and Touya was all “ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪” for basically the rest of the chapter, and that’s pretty much it! Oh, wait, except for the part where he also doused himself in bleach in a fit of pure theatrics, which is actually pretty much the main takeaway from the entire chapter really because it was just wild af. ANYWAYS.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi introduces Baby Touya, the world’s most enchantingly sweet character, and is immediately all, “I sure can’t wait to tell you guys all about how his fucking jaw burnt off.” Thankfully he doesn’t (YET), and we cut back to the present pretty quickly, where Dabi explains how he took all of his brain cells that should have been used to stop him from pouring bleach over his head, and instead put them all toward his big brain plot of releasing an elaborate video detailing Endeavor’s various abuses and crimes, and even throwing Hawks under the bus as well because WHY NOT. He then leaps off of Gigantomachia’s back (like I said, no brain cells) all set to blast them with a Prominence Burn, only to be stopped by none other than THE LEGEND HIMSELF, MOTHERFUCKING BEST, PRETTIEST, NICEST, MOST OUTSTANDING MOTHERFUCKING JEANIST. Who’s no doubt outraged by the crime against hair he witnessed only moments earlier. GO GETTIM JEANY BOI.

so I haven’t had time to answer any of them because this has been the stupidest week, but I just wanted to tell you guys that I received no fewer than nine asks about Dabi’s hair. which, in a week filled with election memes and tumblr’s most cursed fandom briefly rising back up from the dead, is a pretty impressive feat for him if you ask me. like, I know I was making fun of it basically nonstop, but it sure did generate a lot of discussion so maybe I should rethink my opinions on Dabi’s PR strategies now, idk

anyway. it’s Saturday. time to catch up on this shit. let’s see how fucked the Todorokis are

OH NO HE’S CUTE

HOLY SHIT THIS IS TOO MUCH TO FUCKING PROCESS. I’M JUST TRYING TO ENJOY MY DAY HORIKOSHI, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO TRAUMATIZE THIS POOR CHILD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD

“thanks for being all right” the fuck

who allowed this child to be so cute. I’m serious. who signed off on this

how could a child this adorable possibly want to murder his equally adorable baby brother. please, your honor. there must be some mistake here

guess how prepared I am to read all about Touya’s tragic past. mm. that’s right. zero ready. none ready

anyway. TWO THOUSAND DEGREES LOLOLOL. NO TRACE OF A CORPSE HOW CONVENIENT. A PIECE OF HIS LOWER JAW BONE FFFFMSGHKLSh. LOVELY. LOVELY

LMAOOOOO

listen you guys. I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Horikoshi Kouhei did one of two things here. either (1) he planned it out FROM THE VERY START that Touya would be born with red hair Because Fire Powers, but would then have his hair turn white due to trauma, thus making the Dabi/Touya connection very slightly less obvious, although Let’s Be Real Who Are We Kidding. OR, (2) the anime got it wrong and gave him red hair, and rather than allowing this plot hole to continue to exist, Horikoshi took it upon himself to concoct this elaborate storyline and pretend it was never a plot hole at all! in which case I sure hope someone at Bones is sending him a VERY nice Christmas card this year. got this man sweeping up all your messes for you. you’re just lucky he has some sort of wild compulsion to address these things

anyways!!

FATHER AND SON. how sweet. :| still zero percent ready for any of this btw

STOP BEING CUTE

THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW. HE IS THE SINGLE CUTEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, and do you even know how many other baby characters I’m betraying in order to say that?! baby Kacchan, baby Deku, baby Ochako, baby Shouto, Eri, baby Hawks. I’M LOOKING YOU DEAD IN THE EYE RIGHT NOW AND TELLING YOU THAT BABY TOUYA IS CUTER THAN ALL OF THOSE PLEBS. AND YOU’RE LOOKING BACK AT ME RIGHT NOW ALL “YEAH IT SURE IS A PITY ABOUT HIS JAW MELTING OFF THOUGH.” THAT’S IT, I QUIT THE SERIES

and Enji’s smiling at him. he’s so proud of him. but then Touya won’t be able to do it, and Enji’s gonna stop training him, and Touya’s gonna feel like a failure and keep pushing himself in order to try and win his dad’s affections back, because that’s all kids fucking want, all they want is just love, that’s fucking it, you couldn’t just give him that?? and then he’s gonna immolate himself fflkdlskfh THERE YOU SEE HORIKOSHI, I KNOW THE WHOLE STORY ALREADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE “SHOW THEM THE DEAD DOG” THING YET AGAIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT

OH SNAP THERE GOES THE TWIN THEORY. R.I.P.

BABY FUYUMI. PRETTY CUTE. NOT AS CUTE AS TOUYA THOUGH. HEY LOOK, NO REASON TO GET MAD AT ME I’M JUST STATING A FACT HERE

YEAH THIS IS GONNA GO REAL WELL OH BOY

I keep pressing the emergency stop button but this industrial tragedy machine just keeps on chugging along anyway, I’m pretty sure this thing is not up to code

:| I am so sorry sweet boy, Horikoshi is only getting started with you

FUCKING HELL WITH THIS NARRATION

but he wasn’t actually a child to you, he was just a little puppet child for you to live vicariously through!! and then you went and did the same fucking thing with Shouto afterwards and never learned your lesson until just six months ago!! fucking hell, Enji

so now he’s all “Touya is dead, that’s an unforgivable lie” fflkdhflk motherfucker does he look dead to you. if you really think that, tumblr and twitter have got a little over five years’ worth of archived theory posts to show you

oh shit Touya’s countering with “it’s an unforgivable truth”, which, damn. I actually think Horikoshi’s dialogue is one of his weaker points as a writer a lot of the time, but that comeback was snappy as fuck

actually guys, now that I’ve seen how ridiculously fucking cute baby!Touya was, I can almost understand why Shouto and Enji never put the pieces together before lol. any passing similarities would have easily been dismissed on account of he’d need to be at least 10x more adorable in order to get the full resemblance

OH MY GOD

NOW YOU SLEEP??? SO YOU POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PASS OUT WHILE YOU WERE BUSY MAIMING ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS, BUT NOW THAT THERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO THE “YOUR LIEUTENANT WAS SECRETLY RELATED TO ONE OF YOUR WORST ENEMIES THE WHOLE TIME” BOMBSHELL, YOU FINALLY DECIDE TO GET YOUR FORTY WINKS. I SEE

WOW DABI

I’M SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T ALREADY HAVE YOUR ANCESTRY.COM RESULTS PRINTOUT READY TO FOLD INTO A PAPER AIRPLANE AND ZOOM ON DOWN TO HIM

LOL NEVERMIND

gotta say, so far The Endeavor Pamphlet is just about as spicy as I could have hoped

(ETA: Natsuo’s face as he watches his beloved dead brother come back to life only to literally and metaphorically set everything on fire in one fell swoop is :/. why must you do this to me Natsu. can’t you see I’m trying to throw a Welcome Back Jeanist party here.)

HAVE YOU READ THIS?! TODOROKI ENJI ABUSED HIS OWN HEIR, AND DABI WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT THERE

WELL HE’S NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT

btw I neglected to mention this last week, but yes I do recognize and appreciate that this is Can’t Ya See-kun himself whom Horikoshi has chosen to be the face of this existential crisis which the general public is about to experience. rip CYS-kun

OOF

excuse me. putting aside the implications of Dabi sharing this context-less murder video of Hawks with the entire world for a moment, I just have to pause for a sec here, because when exactly did he get a chance to edit this all in?? complete with voiceover that seamlessly ties in with the prerecorded footage of him with DNA test results sans shirt?? you’re telling me this motherfucker, with all the smoke that was in the room thanks to his own quirk, somehow got a PERFECT SHOT of the PRECISE MOMENT when Hawks drove his feather knife into Jin’s back, using his MAGIC CAMERA THAT HE I GUESS HAD THE ENTIRE TIME IN THE POUCH RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BLEACH BOTTLE, and then immediately somehow got this very next shot as well FROM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT ANGLE

ALL THE WHILE IMMEDIATELY RUNNING THROUGH SCRIPT REVISIONS IN HIS HEAD, WHICH HE THEN PROCEEDED TO RECORD... WHERE, EXACTLY?? WITH SKEPTIC, WHILST RIDING ON MACHIA’S BACK??

AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF???

and this after I just wrote that whole long paragraph positively GLOWING about this man’s ability to plug up a plot hole. jfc. just scratch out every damn word I said lol. just forget all of it

are you fucking kidding me, the footage was from the cameras Skeptic planted on Hawks??

that’s... actually... okay you know what, it still doesn’t make any sense in the slightest, but the determination to address it nonetheless... just, dammit... I feel like I’m constantly at war with myself over whether or not I want to shake this man’s hand or slap him lmao. whatever, then!!

anyway, since Shouto and Enji can’t actually see the damage that Touya is dealing to the hero industry even as they speak, Touya is taking it upon himself to give them the highlights

I think it’s a testament to how much Endeavor cares about Hawks that he managed to zero in on that comment even amidst all the craziness of his eldest son returning from the dead to announce how he’s been carefully plotting their destruction for years and years. like, he heard “Hawks” and his face immediately went like that. you think he’s worried that Dabi did something to him? because he’d be right to worry lol

so the Endeavor Pamphlet narration is now explaining all about how Hawks totally killed the Number 3 Hero Best Jeanist as well! yep... he sure did... totally...

OH MY GOD WE’RE CUTTING TO HIM AHHHHH

Hawks, that is. lol. not Jeanist. NO, JUST MY POOR HALF-DEAD WINGLESS BABY SON

NOOOOO HIS LITTLE WING STUMPS. BUT SOMEHOW HIS FACIAL HAIR IS STILL INTACT. OH TO BE AN ANIME PRETTY BOY BEING SET ON FIRE. “HEY, TAKE IT EASY, WATCH THE FACE”

EXCUSE ME WHAT

interesting! we suspected as much, I think, with the clues that Ending dropped, and the little flashback right after the name reveal. still not clear how Dabi found out about it though!

looooool okay here we go, breaking out the heavy-handed holier-than-thou shit now

you know, I do find it interesting how trying to model themselves after All Might’s noble Symbol of Peace image has kind of ended up being the heroes’ undoing here. like, I could write a whole essay on this, but what it basically boils down to is that they were all trying too hard to be perfect. All Might went out there and did his thing and was amazing, and so the powers-that-be built an entire system centered around this seemingly-infallible person, and they acted like the system was infallible as well. and so most of the population ended up becoming complacent over the years, and meanwhile the people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the cracks understandably wound up disillusioned and perceiving the heroes as these false idols

anyway, but I think one positive takeaway from this is that the new up-and-coming generation of heroes represent a breakaway from that system. like, imo what we’re witnessing is the downfall of the Perfect Hero, and the rise of the imperfect hero. and this new generation doesn’t shy away from their failures or pretend like they never happened. they pretty much can’t pretend, because their failures are all right out there in the open for everyone to see. Bakugou Katsuki, just to name one example off the top of my very biased head, has had his own personal character journey basically play out right in front of the media’s eyes. his humiliation at the sports festival, his kidnapping by the League, and all of the fallout afterward. this isn’t someone who can ever go out there and convince the world that he’s perfect. but what he can do, instead, is show the world that he’s trying. that he’s trying with everything he has to do his best, to be the best. rather than this untouchable godlike image, it’s instead the image of someone painfully human who is nonetheless striving with everything he’s got to keep moving forward, flaws and all, and work his way to the top

and ultimately I think that’s going to be a much more positive image to send out to the world when all’s said and done. because rather than merely inspiring awe, heroes like that inspire people to take action themselves. or at least that’s what I hope! and not just Bakugou, but the others as well. we’ve got Shouto, whose own personal trauma is being aired in front of the whole nation even as I sit here ranting. we’ve got Deku, who cries at the drop of a hat, and who fought to become a hero despite being quirkless (and I think it’s only a matter of time before that eventually becomes public knowledge as well). tl;dr because I’m getting way too long-winded here, but these kids have effectively been humanized in a way that the old generation never was, and I think that’ll go a long way towards building trust between them and the people they’ll someday be protecting, and inspiring the next generation in hopefully a much healthier way

anyway so where were we. ...oh yes, Dabi was explaining that heroes only protect themselves, and is presumably building up to his grand conclusion of “therefore you should all just let the villains take over and burn down the world”

omfg. YOU GUYS

DOES CAN’T YA SEE-KUN’S SHARK FRIEND ACTUALLY CALL HIM “CAN’T YA SEE-KUN.” HE HAS A NAME YOU KNOW!! UNLESS HE LEGALLY GOT HIS NAME CHANGED TO CAN’T YA SEE-KUN. OH MY GOD

ALSO, IS THAT CAN’T YA SEE-KUN CRYING IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT THERE OMG. GIVE THIS CHILD A HUG. EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HUG HIM

BAKUGOU IS BARELY HANGING ON THERE LOL. GOTTA STAY CONSCIOUS... SO MUCH TEA BEING SPILLED... FOCUS... CONCENTRATE

IIDA’S ANGLING HIS HEAD IN A WEIRD WAY, LIKE DUDE. LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY SNUGGLY THERE. MMM THESE IIDABAKU CRUMBS

HADOU IS ALL “WHAT EVEN IS ACTUALLY GOING ON” LMAO

LASTLY, POOR SHOUTO OMFG. WHEN YOU’RE ALL FINISHED HUGGING CYS-KUN THIS CHILD NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION!!

so now Dabi’s leaping off of this ninety-foot-tall gargoyle man like that’s a normal, smart thing to do. unless he can fly too now? saw his dad doing it back at Fukuoka and was all “hmm”

OH MY GOD SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT WORD SHOUTO IS USING TO ADDRESS ENJI, THESE TRANSLATIONS LOVE TO MESS WITH MY HEAD

ENJI GET MOVING DO YOU NOT SEE THOSE TEARS!!! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU BIG TREE

AHHHHH

OH KACCHAN YOU WOKE UP A LITTLE MORE THERE, HUH

lol he and Deku both look so determined but they’re basically sitting ducks. their “oh shit” faces do look remarkably like their “TIME TO SWING INTO ACTION” faces but don’t be fooled, they have one good arm and about six pints of blood left between the two of them. looks like this one’s all on you Shouto

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH --

BAH GOD... WHAT’S GOING ON HERE... THAT’S BEST JEANIST’S MUSIC

y’all. can’t even talk right now, my brain has completely shut down lol. just. ...

°˖✧◝(￣▿￣)◜✧˖°

#bnha 291 #dabi #todoroki touya #endeavor #todoroki shouto #best jeanist #hawks #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #you guys know that scene from the end of the lion king #the part where simba is walking up to the top of pride rock #and he lets out that roar as zimmer's score soars to a crescendo #yeah baby #that's the mood rn #welcome back king

473 notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Liebeskummer

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa: Killing Harmony Dynamic: Korekiyo Shinguji/Reader (and his sister shit but i actually take it seriously, unlike kodaka) Warnings: korekiyo’s backstory/trauma (his sister), sexual/physical/mental abuse implications (and outright said but not described in detail except the emotional and mental), anxiety in both kork and reader and mental breakdown(s?), airhead shit but it’s sad Summary: It’s all her fault. ~~~

Korekiyo suddenly turned to the girl beside him in his quiet research lab, “Have you ever heard of Jack of Fables, (Y/n)?” at her, albeit confused, nod, he continued, “Well, all those myths, fairy tales, and even nursery rhymes in reference to ‘Jack’ are actually about the same man. What this means is that Jack Be Nimble, of the candlestick, Jack the Giant Killer, who sold his cows then murdered and robbed a giant, Stingy Jack, who tricked the devil so relentlessly that he was banned from both afterlives, Jack of Jack and Jill, who cracked open his skull, Jack o’ Lantern, Spirit of Halloween and Headless Horseman, and Jack Frost, Spirit who ends autumn and begins winter are all one in the same. He made so many poor life decisions that he now serves as an immortal representation of winer with a pumpkin serving as head and flashlight. Is that not fascinating?”

“Aw,” (Y/n) grinned, nodding once again, “Like the American ‘Florida man’.”

Korekiyo sighed, disappointment palpable in his tone, “That is… actually much more accurate than I wish to admit.”

“Wait, wait,” she tilted her head, patting the man’s arm despite his attention already being on her, “So… like, was he also Jack the Ripper…?”

His eyes widened at her statement, “(Y/n), I must be grateful you were not born to the life of a woman of the night in Victorian London because I assure you, Jack the Ripper was incredibly real.”

“Oh, that’s so sad…” she pouted before clearing it back into her usual smile almost instantly, “Well, thanks for the folklore fun fact, Kiyo! I didn’t know that Jack was so dumb! God, I’d hate to be like him…”

“You do realize you’re not so bright yourself, yes?”

She shrugged, “I’m fine with that, but at least I’m not tricking the devil!”

So sweet and kind, the Ultimate Composer was. Against all expectations, she wasn’t highbrow or traditionally genius, but she was more than excellent company. And, to top it off, the idea of turning her into one of Sister’s friends was oddly… sickening.

It should’ve been perfectly fine - she was a deeply respectable young woman unlike Miu and Maki, there’s no reason he could have against her.

It just felt wrong.

“Oh! Oh!” she burst out, clapping her hands together, before turning and reaching into a bag slung around her hip. Rooting through scrapped sheet music and notes, once she found what she’d been searching for she held it up excitedly, “Boom!”

Korekiyo took the item, just barely brushing his wrapped fingertips against hers, “Cleopatra’s Pearl Cocktail… much appreciated,” he pressed the small bottle into a pocket on his uniform, “If you enjoy giving gifts, perhaps we can discuss cultural gift-giving practices?”

“Ooh, Kiyo’s gonna teach me?”

“Hmm,” Korekiyo hummed quietly to himself, “Well, perhaps… you would prefer I tell you of a composition piece in relevance to mythology, yes?”

“That’d be nice,” the girl giggled softly, rubbing the back of her neck, “To be honest, I just like when you talk… you sound so smart all the time!”

“My thanks, (Y/n),” he nodded curtly, muttering to himself before coming to speak up, “Alright, I believe that the composition for you would be The Ring of the Nibelung, of Germany.”

“Oh, I know that one!” she knew most ‘ones’, to be fair.

“I had suspected so, but have you heard of the heroic legends behind the pieces?”

“Ah, no… are those what you’re gonna explain?”

“I had planned to, yes. Alright, well, the four parts, as you know, are The Rhinegold, The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and Twilight of the Gods. Nowadays, they are most commonly played as individual, separate works despite making one complete story. They were always intended as a sequence - as The Ring cycle, cleverly. Each piece revolves on a loose basis to German heroic tales and Norse legendary sagas, with the overarching tale of the magic ring forged by the Nibelung dwarf, Alberich, which grants the power to rule the world,” he paused at the sight of (Y/n) yawning, his lips pursed and eyes shot down to his shoes before flickering back up to the girl, “Ah, my apologies for taking far longer than necessary. You must find this- “

“Ah, no!” (Y/n) shook her head, waving her hands about as though it would physically prove how far from needed his apology was, “That’s not it! I’m just kinda tired, ya know?” as if to prove her point, another yawn washed over her, “I hadn’t slept well last night after Kirumi…”

“I see,” Korekiyo nodded, closing his eyes to think over his words, “I apologize for making it about myself. If you wish, I could walk you to your dormitory. Now that you mention it, it has been quite the long day.”

“You don’t have to, Kiyo, I’d hate to bother you so much in one day let alone one sitting,” the composer puffed her cheeks out, “That’d be so obnoxious…”

“I don’t find it obnoxious whatsoever, especially if it’s to aid- “ he hesitated, “to aid a friend.”

He hadn’t had friends before. People usually found him creepy and that was the end of the story - nobody approached him and he didn’t branch out. Life went on. The world spun. His loneliness was everlasting and yet nonexistent. He has Sister. Though, deep down, he knows. She’s on another plane of reality with loneliness stronger than his, that’s why he sends her respectable young women.

Just like (Y/n).

But just… not (Y/n). For reasons he personally chooses to not disclose to even himself.

“Aww, Kiyo! You care!” the girl placed a hand over her heart as if to show that the organ itself was squeezing in delight at his offer.

“Of course, I do,” Korekiyo didn’t like how quiet she made him. How jittery and nervous. And he didn’t like how it made him question the way Sister made him feel.

She also made him nervous but it felt different. He liked to pretend it was the nervousness of a love you don’t quite have yet, but he fully knows he’d be lying. She was a mean girl, a bully in school before being hospitalized. Prone to violent and outright frightening outbursts when she had the energy to do more than force him to her side.

But he didn’t like questioning those feelings for Sister. Who he was, was based on her. His uniform. His passion and talent. His hair. His perfect complexion. His life as the universe knows it is an ode to her.

It’s too late for him to go back now… he’s already done so much in her name it’d be cruel to give up now. He might as well continue for Sister.

“If you really don’t mind, then yeah, I’d like it if we could walk together… I get a little nervous going around at night, you never know who’s gonna snap…”

“And you trust me?”

Shit. That’s what gets him in trouble. It’s as Sister always said. ‘Too naive to make his choices, and once he’s free, too inept to make the right ones.’

“Well, yeah,” (Y/n) spoke as if there was hardly any thought to the answer, “All you’ve shown me is somebody worth trusting,” then, she’s quick to remember poor Kaede, “Well, maybe I’m being silly. But hey, if I have to choose between dying trusting my friends and paranoid beyond myself, then maybe I’d- “ she paused, “Ehhh, I don’t like the way that’s coming out.”

“I understand what you’re attempting to say,” Korekiyo reassured, turning towards his research lab’s exit, “Let us start towards the dormitories, yes?”

“Right!” (Y/n) nearly found herself jogging to catch up to Korekiyo’s long-strided head start, she clutched the strap of her bag as she did so, “So… you heard about Angie’s plan, right?”

“To perform a resurrection?”

“Do you think it’ll work?” she seemed antsier than was typical for her, “I mean, you’re into anthropology, so, like, has there ever been a case where that did work? Do you know?”

“No, besides, that would be more akin to history, remember?” she probably didn’t, her memory failed her at an ungodly amalgamation of best and worst of times.

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured and nodded, pretending to recall the difference between the two.

“Who would you desire back into this game, if you could?”

“Rantaro,” her answer was quick, her fingers looping together nervously, “We didn’t really talk much, but uhm, whenever we did - he was really nice. He said I reminded him of a sister of his… so that’s a good thing, right?”

Depends on who you ask, really.

“You grew attached to him so quickly?” there was no jealousy there, he tried to convince himself.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I’d gotten to know him more. He was always running around, trying to save us, and in the end… it got him killed.”

A lot of things will get you killed.

Korekiyo shook off the thoughts racking his brain, “Your care for him even through his estrangedness and peculiarity is truly beautiful, (Y/n),” he fiddled with the locket piece hanging around his shoulders, “Even your care for myself. I’d be lying if I’d said it wasn’t endearing.”

“You’re not…” her words died out, not wanting to lie to a dear companion of hers, “You’re a little off-putting but you’re not undeserving of love, Kiyo.”

It was a complete 180 from what Sister had told him his entire life. A new lesson coming in far too late. He had to earn love. He should’ve been crawling on his knees and pleading for affection, but now he was supposed to simply receive it? It sounded so incredibly fake. A fictitious tale told alongside gumdrop fairies and candy trees.

No place for someone of realistic standard.

No place for him.

“You’re far too kind, (Y/n).”

“Maybe you just haven’t known nice people,” she suddenly stopped, slapping a palm to her mouth and muffling against it, “I’m so sorry!”

“Worry not,” Korekiyo continued walking, “I’m unphased.”

Because maybe it was true.

Maybe Sister wasn’t so nice.

There was an itch at his skin in the thought and he shook his head.

Sister was kind enough to love someone like him. Who was of rotted soul and rancid heart.

“I shouldn’t have just said that, especially since I don’t really know your life…”

“Would you like to learn it someday?”

(Y/n) was fairly shocked at how quickly he seemed to breeze by her insult to his family and friends - well, if he had any friends - but she wouldn’t refuse. It was extra time with Korekiyo! Who could turn that down?

“I’d love to.”

“Tea and cookies,” (Y/n) pumped a fist in the air, “What could be better than enjoying those with a friend?”

Korekiyo felt his lips twitch up behind his mask at the rhetorical question, he reached out for his teacup, “Perhaps freedom from this killing game?”

“Oh, yeah, huh…” she deflated, “Jeez, I can’t believe I’d say that…”

Oh, great, of course, now he’s gone and made the local ball of sunshine in this school upset.

“Nevermind that, (Y/n), it was a tease…” he gripped the cup a little tighter, cheeks heating up in humiliation at his failed joke, “I apologize if it seemed like anything other than such.”

“No, don’t apologize, it’s fine! It was kind of a dumb thing to say, now that I put some brain into it,” so it made sense she’d said it, (Y/n) frowned at the bitter thought.

“Ah,” the clink of a cup against the table caught the girl’s attention, “I must change my mask in order to properly enjoy this tea and these cookies,” as the anthropologist went to turn, he was stopped by another outburst from the girl.

“No, don’t! Uh, here!” she clenched her eyes shut, papped her palms over her face, and turned her head downwards, “See? Now I can’t!”

“You don’t have to go to such lengths, I could simply turn- “

“No, no, I want you to feel comfortable and I heard once that doing things to make your friends comfortable is, like, a way to make them like you more?” she huffed at the wording, “Just, I don’t know… I want you to know that I care. Ya get it? No need to turn yourself away like that when I can just not look.”

A tuft of air passed through his nostrils at the girl.

Sister would adore a friend like her.

Korekiyo pulled down his mask, brows drawn tight towards his eyes at the new realization. It was no longer a matter of her being respectable, it was now the knowledge that someone as tender-hearted as (Y/n) would be loved beyond comprehension by Sister.

But… no. Sister couldn’t have her. She’d understand, right? Of course. She could have someone else - the other bubbly girl, what’s her name? Angie. She could have Angie.

Korekiyo just… he just needed (Y/n). Something about her was calming and sweet. He picked his mask for eating from a pocket in his uniform and carefully adjusted it over his lips so as to not smudge his lipstick. It wouldn’t anyway, he knew this, but it usually never backfired to be too sure.

The lipstick in itself was quite the hassle. Another homage to Sister that she might not even be seeing. So was the hair. It got tangled and knotted and was hell to dry after a shower.

“Not to rush you at all, but are you done? Cuz my eyes are starting to hurt… I think I’m squeezing them too hard.”

“Right, yes, I am.”

He really shouldn’t think like that… Sister deserved to be honored.

As if she’d been reading his mind, (Y/n) leaned over slightly, pointing at Korekiyo’s hair, “Hey, hey, how do you manage that? It always looks so silky and soft and well-kept.”

“Ah, well, it is quite troublesome most days, but with patience and rather expensive products, I keep it together.”

“I was wondering, too, do you ever put it up?”

“Not usually, though, that would be… nice on occasion,” he sipped at his tea, enjoying the way (Y/n) shyly glanced away to prove she didn’t want to invade his privacy. She was too delightful to be in a place such as this, even if he did enjoy the beauties of law-absence.

“Uh, I don’t want to come off pushy or like you have to let me, but if you want, I’d love to put your hair up! To be honest, I’ve been wanting to for a while,” her eyes widened at her own statement, “Oh, that sounded creepy. I’m so sorry.”

“I am hardly one to judge,” he reached over for a cookie, “But, if you’re so inclined, I won’t protest.”

“Yay!” she bounced slightly in her chair, “Oh, that’s great, Kiyo, thanks.”

“Shall we go to your dorm after finishing our refreshments?”

“I’d like that,” (Y/n) grinned.

And to think she almost didn’t approach Korekiyo on that first day in the school. How ridiculous could she have been to judge based on looks? Sure, he was a little strange and the way he spoke was unlike any teenager she’d ever met, but he was still a person. He deserved to be given companionship.

Besides, he’d only ever shown her kindness and support.

He didn’t even make fun of her when she said something stupid in front of everyone.

She cringed at the memory of every time Kokichi or Miu or Maki prodded at her. Even Ryoma and Kaito had picked on her when she misspoke during the first trial and just brought up a point the class had already proven. It made her heart wrinkle and shrink at the mere thought. Kokichi still made fun of her for questioning Tsumugi’s whereabouts during Rantaro’s murder.

“You’re staring into your tea, it will grow cold if you only look at it.”

“Oh, yeah,” shaking her head, (Y/n) silently cursed herself for spacing out. What an awful habit of hers, it was, “Sorry for taking so long.”

“You shouldn’t apologize, I’m not upset in the slightest,” he felt his heart lighten at the tiny smile that illuminated her face, “I simply enjoy spending this time together.”

“You’re too nice sometimes, Kiyo,” she giggled, but they both recognized the tingle of nervousness jumbling within it, “If you’re not careful, I might fall for you or something…”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”

I wouldn’t mind, she wanted to say.

If you’ll have me, he wished to murmur.

Then he felt his chest tighten.

“Can I…” he tapped a finger to the table, “ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Uhm,” she bit her lip as she thought back, “No… why?”

“How do you think it feels?”

“Like, you could be free and yourself around the person? I’m not too sure, but I think if you and someone else are in love then you’ll accept each other completely, you know? Sure, there’s flaws in every person, but I think you accept those, too.”

“I see…”

“Kiyo, why do you ask?”

“I…” his brows furrowed, “A lot has been on my mind as of late.”

“Alright, I won’t pry,” standing from the dining table, (Y/n) clapped her hands together, “Now, if you’re still down, I’d love to put your hair up!”

“As it stands, I am still, as you put it, ‘down’,” Korekiyo nodded before joining the girl and starting towards her dorm room.

“Nice!” she pointed directly ahead, “Now, onward!”

A total airhead at her truest, Korekiyo thought. He didn’t usually partake in the type, but something about (Y/n) just pulled him in tighter every time he tried turning away.

So, what’s the harm in giving in? Swimming against the tide only ever led to drowning anyway, so why fight it?

Sister… Sister was dead. Is dead. Resurrection isn’t possible and hasn’t been in human history. And she had changed so much of him. (Y/n) would never force him to bend to her ideal.

The more he thought about Sister in comparison to (Y/n), the more he realized that Sister felt like a ball and chain - and (Y/n) felt like a breath of fresh air.

Just her name inside his own head sounded as sweet as the best form of heaven.

“Here we are!” (Y/n) cheered upon their arrival to her room, “There’s probably a bunch-load of unfinished works in here so just… don’t judge them too harshly, okay?”

“I could hardly judge an unfinished masterpiece.”

“I don’t know about masterpieces…”

“If you create them with heart and soul, there’s nobody who can effectively say they aren’t except for yourself,” Korekiyo enters the room after her, legs carrying him towards her desk as she roots around her bathroom for a hairbrush and hair tie, “Sadly, this is also applicable to disasters with effort put into them. However, just from skimming these, I can tell you they are not such disasters.”

“Aw, thanks, Kiyo, you know - I know I’m the Ultimate Composer and junk, but jeez it gets so nerve-wracking when people hear my stuff. I like what I write, but who’s to say other people will?”

“I understand that. Showing others your work is extremely unsettling at times,” he followed the girl to her bed and sat between her knees on the floor, “I recall feeling that way when I would dabble in artistry.”

“You can draw?”

“I would when I was much younger,” he felt her fingers run over his scalp and through his hair and the weight looming over his shoulders practically melted off, “I haven’t held onto any of them, and they’ve likely aged poorly, but I know how I felt showing them around.”

“Why’d you stop? If you don’t mind my asking,” reaching around, (Y/n) threaded her fingers through Korekiyo’s bangs and, as gently as humanly possible, pulled the hair hanging over and around his face back into a slicked style.

“My… sister, she always rathered that I participate in anthropology with her. I wasn’t all that good anyways.”

“Aw, that’s kinda sad. Even if you weren’t good, you could’ve improved over time.”

“Do you truly believe that, (Y/n)?”

“Of course, I mean, talents are just developed over time, right? Angie didn’t pop out of the womb an art genius and I didn’t start off great at writing music, you just keep at it and eventually your skill level is way better than when you started.”

Sister always said he’d be garbage at drawing. Somebody like him could never learn.

She tied off and twisted until the bun was perfect - well, not perfect. It was presentable enough, and it was just a bun anyway! Not like they had anywhere to be.

“Sorry it’s messy,” she scratched at her cheek, feeling anxious that he’d be upset with her work.

“I…” he felt another little smile peek over him, it was indeed messy with stray hairs sticking out here and there and a few tiny bumps running over his head, but even so, “I love it.”

“You do?”

“It’s a gesture from you, why wouldn’t I?”

Standing beside Korekiyo at the mirror, (Y/n) twiddled her thumbs before spewing out her question, “It’s totally cool if not, but can I hug you? Sorry if that’s weird!”

“No… it’s…” Sister never asked to touch him, and now that he thought about it, she never seemed to care when he told her to stop, “That would be wonderful.”

As her arms slowly came around him, he felt truly at ease. With Sister, there was always this fear of never being what she wanted. That she hated him deep down. With (Y/n), it felt like finally being attached to someone you were meant to. Returning to a place of deep affection.

“You truly do care about me, don’t you, (Y/n)?”

“What kind of question is that?” she back-pedals, “I mean, of course, I do. You’re very dear to me, Kiyo.”

Maybe even a little too dear, considering the current climate of the killing game.

But even so, neither of them pulls away. Neither cares enough to wrangle themselves from indulging in the other’s touch. It feels too good against their skin.

It’s then that Korekiyo’s brain strikes the flint to create the burning thought - maybe Sister wasn’t all that great. Maybe Sister didn’t love him.

She’s only ever made him miserable, now that he recalls it all.

(Y/n) doesn’t. She makes him feel human and alive and adored. He likes the way she makes him feel. And between the two, he much rather would be praised than berated.

Oh God, what did this mean again?

Where do the creation myths go?

Who’s Princess Kaguya?

Her head throbs at the thoughts rumbling through her. She tried to get Korekiyo to get someone, anyone, but her to organize his notes.

Shuichi would love this stuff! You two should bond!

Gonta could learn about being gentlemanly from you! It’d be a great learning experience!

I know you don’t like Miu that much, but maybe spending more time together could make you understand each other more?

Anyone.

And yet, Korekiyo denied. He liked spending time with her. He wouldn’t mind answering every question she had - no matter how many times she asked it. He was a patient person, he could handle it.

(Y/n) looked at all the books and stray papers surrounding her alike, bottom lip tugged between her teeth in focus and face beating hot in vivid embarrassment. He wasn’t even looking at her, thank God, but still… it was so mortifying that she’d already lost track of what she was doing.

She tried so hard to pay attention, she really, really did!

She wanted to help so bad. She wanted to be useful so bad.

But she knew… she’s not a smart person, per se. It was beaten over her head repeatedly her entire life by her family, schooling, peers, and even her friends. She was an idiot who couldn’t do anything right.

It’s why she wanted Korekiyo to ask someone else.

But how could she say no to him? He was always so nice, it’d be downright mean to refuse him. Right?

She felt her eyes burn, vision growing blurry through tears. Setting down the papers in her hands - (Y/n) covered her eyes to keep any wetness from splotching the notes below. It was the least a fucking moron could do.

“(Y/n)? Are you feeling okay?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She nodded shakily, just wanting Korekiyo to ignore her and continue his work. Better yet, he’d kick her out and she could dodge the incoming humiliation altogether.

“Yeah,” her voice cracked, lips trembling.

Goddammit.

She heard papers rustling before she could feel the presence at her side. Fingertips just barely grazing her body before hesitating back, “You’re lying.”

Understatement of the year.

“I just… I’m so sorry, Kiyo. I’m such an idiot, I knew I couldn’t do this,” she whimpered, desperately trying to grab and suffocate down her bubbling sobs before they wracked her throat, “I’m too fucking dumb to do anything right… I’m sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re no idiot,” he’s immediately slammed with every memory of every time he’s called her such a thing. No matter how nice he tried to be about it, he still aided her insecurity, “I’m sorry for ever saying you were. Intellect is not measured by how well you can do a task nor should everyone’s mind be measured the same. Intelligence is fickle and is spread over a vast variety of subjects. You’re not an idiot for not being able to do something you’re not accustomed to.”

“I just… I- I wanted to help you but then I forgot everything you said about organizing them and then which regions are which and what even is a gorgon?”

He chuckled quietly at her question, “A creature in Greek mythology most commonly in reference to three sisters - Medusa, Euryale, and Sthenno - with hair made of living, venomous snakes that turned those who so much as looked upon them to stone,” he glanced around at what (Y/n) had gotten done, “I see that the filing in relation to music is nearly completed for your half.”

“That’s about all I’m good for.”

“And I would not have managed that so easily, music was never an incredible strength of mine - though I do admire it.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kiyo…”

“I would never,” he moved his notes away to sit more comfortably next to the girl, “In fact, if you’d be willing to listen…” his throat tightened and heart thumped in his chest, “I would like to tell you of something that’s been troubling me for quite some time.”

“Yeah,” she wiped away her tears, sniffling, “of course.”

“I told you of my sister, correct?” he waited for her nod of confirmation to continue, “Well, it’s my belief that…” his fists clenched.

What if she didn’t believe him? What if she blamed him? How do you tell someone your older sister raped and abused you when you’re barely even coming to terms with the fact yourself?

“(Y/n), I…” he stopped, gut bunching in knots before he suddenly ripped down his mask and turned to face her, “I think I need help…”

“What? You’re just wearing lipstick, Kiyo, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, no, no, no,” he shook his head, hands shaking wildly as he pulled out the ponytail (Y/n) had done up earlier and yanked through his hair, “E-everything I am is because of her! She consumes me even in death! She- she- she hurt me…”

“Oh,” the girl moved to sit up on her knees, hands reaching out but not yet touching him, “What happened, Kiyo? You can tell me, I’m listening.”

“She told me I was an awful boy, nobody but her could love someone so foul and creepy… she- “ he moved to grip his sleeves, “She touched me,” he looked into the girl’s eyes, “Is it my fault? Am I so disgusting? Why would she do this?”

“Do you want me to hold you or no?” at his shaky nod, she instantly took Korekiyo into a hug, cradling his head and shoulders to her body and stroking through his hair, “You’re more than what she made you. You’re bigger and better than her manipulation. And it’s not your fault she did what she did. It’s completely and totally on her. She took advantage of you, Kiyo, that’s not your fault.”

He grabbed her arm and pressed his face into her shirt as she held him, “Am I rotten? Am I lovable?”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re worthy of love and care.”

His lipstick smeared over her shirt and across his cheek and neither of them minded. It would wash off eventually. Her stain on his life would come out.

“When we get out,” (Y/n) began again, “do you want to seek professional help? You can get it, Kiyo.”

He was slow to nod, beginning to grow tired from dosing out tears and trauma at once, “I do… thank you, (Y/n)...”

“No need to thank me.”

“(Y/n)?” she hummed quietly in acknowledgement, “Even if it isn’t for field work… I wish to travel the country with you. I want to show you the beauty of humanity as I know it… for our sakes.”

Looking down, (Y/n) caught the gentleness in his eyes, tender and soft and awaiting her response, she smiled softly, brushing back his hair, “I would love to, Kiyo. If it’s truly something you want to do, I would be happy to go anywhere with you.”

Nighttime was quickly approaching and with the atmosphere and turmoil of the class, (Y/n) didn’t feel very safe being out so late.

“You’re certain you don’t wish for me to walk you to your room?”

“No, you finish up here,” (Y/n) waved off Korekiyo’s offer, “Don’t be such a worry-wart, yeah? I’ll be fine! You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, though.”

He nodded, a small smile stretching over him, “I will, dear (Y/n), don’t worry.”

The girl’s eyes widened slightly before she returned his beam, “You have a cute smile, Kiyo.”

“Oh,” right, he didn’t have his mask on at the moment. It was refreshing to wake up and not trouble himself with makeup for a woman he wasn’t sure even cared - dare he say it, it was nice, even.

He’d only taken his mask off around (Y/n), it felt intimate. Sweet. Something passed only between them.

“Thank you.”

She nodded before turning back and pressing outward from his research lab, “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Kiyo! You better have the sweetest dreams, ya hear me?”

“You as well.”

He returned to cleaning up his lab, occasionally stumbling over a floorboard looser than the others. How troublesome.

That’s when her voice picked up from within his brain.

“You never loved me.”

He looked around despite knowing exactly where the voice was coming from.

“You let her do this to you. You let her take you from me.”

Pushing past them, he persisted in rooting through his notes and organizing his papers.

“She hates you. She’s scared of you. She’s just trying to be nice. You scare her. You scare all of them. You rotten, rotten boy. You’ve been ruined - only I could love a face so hideous and broken. A horrible, horrible boy lucky enough to be given the love I did.”

His hands shook, fingers twitching and heart thrumming heavy, “No. (Y/n) likes me. She enjoys my company.”

“Why would she enjoy the company of someone so lonely and depressing? So gross and foul? She probably hates you for partaking in your own sister’s touch.”

“No, she- she doesn’t… she knows it’s not… it’s not my fault…”

“Are you inside her head? How do you know? How are you certain? I’m the only one who ever loved you - and you’ve abandoned me. Left me all alone.”

“No, I- I haven’t abandoned you, Sister! Please, believe me, I never abandoned you.”

“So, you know what you must do to prove yourself to me.”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like that…”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like you anyway.”

She’s right, right? She’s right. Someone as wonderful and beautiful as (Y/n) could never adore him the way he does her. He loves her and she must find him repulsive. Staying out of fear.

Out of pity for the boy abused by his sister. And so, who better to return to than the more predictable of the two?

(Y/n) may have felt more like coming home than Sister - but Sister was home. (Y/n) was comfort. Sister was familiarity.

He found his foot planted against the loose floorboard once again. He knew how he had to make up for his misdeeds and abandonment.

“I’m truly relieved to see that you got to your room safely,” Korekiyo murmured to (Y/n).

“Huh? Oh yeah,” she pointed over to their local gentle giant, “Gonta and I crossed paths on my way and he wanted to walk me to my room and I just couldn’t say no to him. It’s nice to have someone you trust in this ‘game’. Well, other than you,” the elevator jumbled slightly as it dove down into Monokuma’s makeshift courtroom, “I trust you, obviously.”

She shouldn’t. And he wants to tell her that.

But as Kokichi and Shuichi take glances at him from across the elevator, he knows that she’ll figure things out soon enough.

And, during the trial, when Shuichi’s convicting Korekiyo of the murder of Angie Yonaga and Tenko Chabashira - she does. And she cries and screams and throws a fit. Demanding Korekiyo to fight back harder. Demanding Shuichi to stop lying and get serious. Because Korekiyo would never kill somebody.

He was nice. He was a gentleman. He cared about people. He had stolen her heart - and a man who managed that wouldn’t kill anybody. So, of course, Shuichi was lying.

“Do I have to remind you of what’ll happen if you don’t vote?” Monokuma bit out.

(Y/n) clutched at her hair - she knew what she had to do. But every time she went to vote for Korekiyo, her body wouldn’t let her.

Reaching over, the boy himself took her hand in his, “Allow me,” as he guided her hand over her voting panel. No matter how she swatted at his hand or tried to wrench herself from Korekiyo’s grip, he pressed her vote into his name.

She was forced to watch as he was strung up and spun. Made dizzy and sickly. She was made to watch as he fell into the melting pot. Fires eating at his body until he was no more than spirit.

As Monokuma and the sister who had harmed him so horrifically worked as one to rid the world of his soul.

Eyes went to (Y/n) as the execution subsided. Her sobs and hiccups drawing everyone’s attention.

Gonta was the first to approach, a large hand settling on the girl’s back as she cried, silently taking her into a hug.

Her heart wrenched, fingers squeezing at Gonta’s suit and throat rubbing raw with her wild wails.

He could’ve gotten help. He could’ve gotten out with everyone. If she’d just stayed with him then she could’ve done something. Angie and Tenko would be here. Korekiyo would be here.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Kaito’s voice peeked through, “Don’t cry because he’s gone, (Y/n). Move forward - for both of you.”

“I…” she shook her head, choking on a sob, “I don’t think I can…”

Shuichi placed a hand on Kaito’s shoulder, “Just give her a little time.”

As the group moved out of the courtroom, Gonta stayed by (Y/n)’s side up until she clumsily made her way into her dorm room.

Immediately, she collapsed into her bed sheets. Dreading tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. And so forth. Maybe she should’ve known better than to go around falling for a guy in the killing game. Maybe she should’ve held herself up in her room all alone.

There was no escape from this feeling. No hiding. It may get better over time - but Korekiyo would always be gone.

A buzz at the door caught her attention. Her movements were sluggish, honestly just hoping that whoever was there had given up and left by the time she finally answered.

Shuichi stood there, classically uneven, anxious smile and all, “I think there’s something you might be interested in? If you’ll follow me.”

No verbal response was given, only (Y/n) stepping out of her room and shutting the door behind her to give him her confirmation.

He began towards the casino. With a sigh, (Y/n) was about to tell Shuichi off - she didn’t need to start gambling to get over Korekiyo’s death - until he stopped in front of the building.

“I mostly just wanted you to get some fresh air,” he says earnestly before digging in his pocket and pulling out a key with a heart-shaped handle, “I got this from here. You can get your own or keep this one, I think you need it more than I do,” at her confusion he continues to explain, “It can take you into this weird dream-like state where you can see what ‘ideal’ you play in our classmates’ minds… I think you know who I gave this to you for.”

“Kiyo…”

“Yeah. You can see him again, if you want.”

She wanted to be strong and push the key back into Shuichi’s hand - instead, she just looked between him and the key in her hold and nodded slowly, “Thank you, Shuichi…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Sleep well, (Y/n). I know you can grow past this.”

Because he did.

“I’ll try.”

But he wasn’t her. And Kaede was gone far before Korekiyo. And their grief was not the same.

“Thanks again, Shuichi.”

“Just take your time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Her knees felt like collapsing under the weight of her nerves, hand falling to the doorknob of the hotel room.

She pushed through her anxiety and found herself in a red-tinted room, a large heart-shaped bed in the center with a merry-go-round circling it. Then, she found Korekiyo standing to the side.

What would his ‘ideal’ version of her be? A friend? An out-of-touch acquaintance? A lover?

Her heart throbbed at the last possibility.

“Ah, my dear, back so soon?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m, uhm, not sure?”

I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.

“Then don’t,” he seemed to glide across the room, taking the girl’s cheeks in his hands, “You’ve always had a problem with that, my love.”

My love? My love.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” she huffed at her own word selection, “Oh…”

Korekiyo chuckled quietly, pulling down his mask to kiss her forehead, “I already took my medication while you were out.”

“Your medication?”

“Yes, from the doctor. You were the one who pushed me to go, have you forgotten?”

“Right! No, no, I just blanked,” she quickly lied, giving the boy a broad grin, “I’m glad, though.”

“It’s only medication, dear.”

“Still,” (Y/n) reached up to cup Korekiyo’s cheek, “it’s good that you’re following through with your meds.”

“Your support always helps,” he pressed another kiss to the girl’s forehead, “We’ll be leaving early in the morning tomorrow, I should warn you,” at her furrowed brows he explained, “In order for us to catch the first train to Iwate prefecture. Did you forget, darling?”

“Wait, wait, let me guess…” she waited for his nod before tossing out her suggestion, “We’re traveling for field work!” she was then quick to tag on, “As a couple that’s, like, super in love?”

“You didn’t forget at all, my love,” Korekiyo pulled away slightly, and sat on the bed, removing his shoes, “You play that memory of yours down too much. You’re far more intelligent than you think.”

“You think that?”

“Of course, I do. It’s not just because I love you dearly, either. You mustn’t let the words and actions of others control your opinion on yourself - you’re better than they say.”

This is his ultimate fantasy. He’s her lover. They travel and see the beauty of humanity together, just like what he said he wanted. He loves her. He thinks she’s so great.

He’s wrong.

She should’ve stayed with him that night.

He’s wrong.

She could’ve done so much to keep him with her.

He’s dead.

Because she should’ve stayed.

“Kiyo,” her eyes burned and began to soak, “I’m sorry!” her lungs rapidly expanded and contracted with her sporadic breaths, her hands clutching at her shirt. Her knees finally buckled and she collapsed to the ground, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a stupid, stupid, stupid failure! Please… forgive me…!”

Korekiyo immediately stood up and rushed to (Y/n)’s side, bringing her into a tight hug as she fell to the floor, his fingers running through her hair. He kisses at her temple and cheeks, waiting until her cries settle enough for him to be audible in the room, “It’s interesting, dear, I first realized I’d fallen in love with you in a situation similar as this. I desired to comfort and reassure you just as I do now. You’re not stupid nor a failure, and I adore you above all else.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) only began to cry harder into Korekiyo’s chest. This could’ve been their future. This could’ve been what they had to share and hold between only each other. If she’d only stayed. If she’d been with him that night.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“It wasn’t you,” she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep back her cries, “I- I- it’s all my fault… it’s all my fault…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, darling,” Korekiyo held her tighter, “I love you, my dearest (Y/n). No matter what you’ve done, I will always forgive you.”

And once again, her tears only came out harder. Her head pounding ruthlessly at the ache and consciousness fading out in her exhaustion. Korekiyo was dead. And no amount of her tears could ever bring him back.

#korekiyo shinguji x reader #korekiyo x reader #shinguji x reader #drv3 x reader #he deserved so much better :(( i wuv him #let me know if i miss anything with the warnings

132 notes · View notes