#now i dream of gathering my family at my own house and making that magical christmas happen again...

[holybibly]

This is a little preview of my new series and yes, bunnies, this is a whole series from me. I hope everyone is ready for an erotic dystopia?

Decadent dystopian erotica with majestic dragons - second teaser for today

Glass House Ateez x reader

Everything changed in an instant. 

The king was dead, and thousands of dragons took to the burning skies. The old world was over, and a 'new age' was in the making—an age of gods and monsters. 

A thousand years ago, the fires of revolution blazed across the face of the world. Dragons—the creatures of ancient legends and children's fairy tales—reduced the once prosperous world to ashes in a matter of minutes. Rivers of black blood coursed through the veins of the streets, flooding the cities and lands in their wake. The sky was a blaze of purple flames and electric shocks. The church was reduced to rubble, and the royal family was executed in a public display. In the eyes of the dead, the unspoken horror in front of these majestic creatures remained forever, and in the sparks of the flames, they shimmered like precious sea stones. 

There was a bitter smell of burning flesh and ash in the air. It was the smell of dreams on fire—the smell of a future in decay. 

It was the beginning of the end of ancient life. The beginning of a new world. The Age of Immortality has begun. 

All the legends turned out to be true; dragons did exist. They had always lived close to us, lurking in the velvety darkness of the night, waiting for the hour. Waiting for the hour to come when the power would be in their hands. Dangerous, unbridled, wild creatures of magic and the elements, predators at the top of the food chain. They had come into the world to rule, not to obey, and now, at long last, their time had come. 

The world was at anarchy. Dragons were killing, raping, and enslaving races and lands as if it were an amusing child's game. They drank blood as black as the night from golden bowls, and they ate our succulent flesh as our bones cracked under the pressure of their razor-sharp teeth. They would hold orgies in the midst of the torn corpses and revel in their omnipotence. Those were the days of darkness. A time of terror, when the very word danger was a synonym for life itself. And so it went for several years, until the ultimate power fell into the clutches of the deadly Children of the Night, the oldest of all dragons. 

The majestic Hala. 

Eternal as the moon itself and deadly as the uncharted depths of the ocean, they inspired burning terror in all who encountered them. To their people, they were nothing more than a myth, a legend written on fragments of tablets. Forefathers, ancestors—they had hundreds of names, but each one inspired more fear than the last. They were predators among predators, bristling with animal dominance and primal, unbridled sexuality. They exuded power and sinfulness. They were the ones who defined the rules and set the boundaries of what was permissible. 

With the arrival of Hala, a new phase in the history of the world began. 

Humanity was enslaved, and dragons became the dominant species. As the years went by, the human population began to decline rapidly, with fewer and fewer humans, until "our" species reached the status of gatherers. Angelicus Nova, or Angel Stars, was what we came to be called. Human existence took on a strange religious orientation; we were worshipped, idolized, and adored, but despite all this, humans remained nothing more than a rare exchangeable currency, nothing more than an expensive trinket that was prestigious to own and could be broken with a flick of the wrist. 

The human being also became one of the ways in which money flowed endlessly. These institutions were known as "glass houses." Gateway to heaven. They would be the equivalent of strip clubs or luxury escort houses if you and I were in the old world. The rules were the same: "Look, but don't touch." Girls and boys were expensive pieces of family jewelry that rested under the glass of fancy display cases. Our masters showed us off to the greedy eyes of the world with all the pride and ostentation that dragons have. 

In spite of their possessive, animalistic nature, dragons were nothing more than swaggering bastards with inflated egos and delusions of grandeur.

Humans could be anything as long as dragons owned us—a muse, an innamorata, a nymph, an angel, a siren, or even a goddess—but like everything else in the universe, we came at a price. 

The 'glass houses' were only in operation at night. During the day, all the 'jewels' rested and tidied up after tiring hours of contemplation of the world through the bluish glass of the display window. Nice, obliging workers in starched white collars were busy with the cleaning, scrubbing the baroque decorations of the vetrines with great care from a mixture of sperm, drool, and other secretions. You looked at it with an almost reverent awe, finding it disgusting to the point of bordering on the pornographically beautiful. 

You could see it as real art—crude and original, but art nonetheless. There was something particularly mesmerizing about it, almost hypnotic, about the way the thick, pearly sperm dripped slowly from the golden flowers. 

Of all the glass houses that ever existed, "Eros" was the most beautiful. It was the jewel in the crown of the New Empire, and you were its goddess. There were rumors that the Hala themselves were customers of 'Eros'. But rumors were only rumors. If they were ever to visit your 'home', you would know about it, for they would be where all men ended up—at your feet. 

You were content with the life that you were living. There was no tragedy and no misery, no abusive family or abusive peers, no bullying and harassment at school—no, you had it all great. You were born here at Eros—the growth and blossoming of a beautiful flower. Your whole life has been within the confines of glass rooms and silk sheets, but unlike your dreamy friends, you weren't in need of rescue. 

Your name is Aphrodite. Born in the radiance of the Creator. A goddess among goddesses, carved out of marble and mother of pearl. Your hair falls to the ground in waterfalls of pearls and silk. Your eyes are the eerie silvery moonlight in half-darkness, the deadly attraction of jewels in velvet lashes. Your lips are the succulent, juicy, forbidden fruit that every man would like to taste. The pain of your kiss is going to be the last pleasure of life. 

You are not a delicate, pure lily; you are not a passionate, fiery rose; you are a narcissus reveling in the crystal of mountain waters. You love yourself to pain, to death, to despair, and in all the New Empire, there was none more beautiful than you. 

Original sin. The primordial beauty. You are desire in all it manifests and begins to manifest. 

The naked goddess, clad in snow-white fur like armor, is the goddess of love and ecstasy. 

You've never been conceptualized; you've always been enigmatic. 

You have been the object of worship. Your beauty has been sung in songs, and your love has been professed in a thousand languages. "Eros" was the site of visits from the mightiest and most powerful dragons of the New Empire. They all crawled at your feet, stroking their thick, greased with their cum cocks, greedily as they burned your skin with their golden gaze. They licked the deceptively thin glass of your display case with their long, sometimes split tongues, leaving muddy streaks on the perfect surface of the glass. The mighty and great dragons, unaccustomed to humiliation and submission, urinated like bitches in heat at the mere sight of your bare shoulders and long neck covered with diamond serpents, their eyes shining like stars in the twilight of your silken chambers. They would drip their sperm onto the icy marble floor until it collected in small, glistening puddles, and then they would lick it up as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world. Ambrosia in the truest sense. 

Behind the glass walls of Eros, they were dominators, predators, and the rulers of this world through fear and pain, but here in this garden of Eros, they were nothing more than whores—shameless and needy. Slaves to your beauty, desperate to please you. 

Their moans are always a delight to you. The moaning of your name. 

The scenarios have been repeated to the point of being painful. Sugar-sweet subs with outstretched tongues and pretty, tear-stained faces. Dominant alphas with sweat-glistening skin and eyes rolling with pleasure.

Dragons fucked other dragons; orgies and bacchanals were staged; they were subjugated and subdued. They growled, moaned, squealed, and purred; some were fucked like a port slut, and some were licked for hours until they passed out from hyperstimulation. Some masturbated in front of your window, enjoying the fact that you were there to watch them, and there were others who would spend their heat and ruts in front of your window. 

The list could go on and on: bondage, darkphilia, breeding, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, and breathing games.

You were saturated with this game. 

There were so many ways in which you could spend your evenings in the company of others. It was all designed to excite you, to make you beg, and to make you plead. Each of your visitors secretly hoped that one day you would strip off your luxurious furs and assume the position that was right for them—submissive, naked, and ready to accept whatever it was they were giving you. 

It was an act of power; it was a position of strength, but here you were the strength. You were power. 

No one would ever have the temerity to lay a hand on you. Goddesses are always untouchable.

You entertained yourselves by teasing them, mocking them, and fanning their flames of desire and passion. Dragons are creatures that are very dependent on their emotions and their desires; they feed on their power and their magic, but when they do not get what they want, it burns them from the inside; it breaks and crumbles them, like a cookie that has been bitten.

It was delicious, but you were full. Thank you, next.

You never denied that you were a sadist; you had a taste for pain; maybe it was a kind of revenge for the destruction of your family; maybe not. They came to you for that feeling; the dragons wanted to be punished and tamed, and the feeling of pain made them cum harder. As they say, Orgasm is a little death.

You could play this game for hours on end, letting the fur expose your boobs and pressing it against the cold glass as you went. It was magnificent—tall and plump, as if it had been milked with milk—with pink nipples the color of magnolia blossoms. There was something animalistically seductive about it—an appeal to their natural reproductive instincts—that evil thought of possible pregnancy. Their whimpering made you laugh, and the sounds they made were so sweet—desperate pleas and long, long moans.

"Let me taste you; I want it so much. I was a good boy, such a good boy."

There were other days when you would let your hands run over the bare skin of your thighs, leaving long red streaks that stood in erotic contrast to the silk of your pale skin. You smeared the clear, shimmering liquid of your juices along the line of your neck, in that most exciting place for dragons, where their teeth locked in a mating mark, as if branding their mate in the most perverse of affiliations.

"Tell me I belong to you; please say it. I'll do anything you don't want. Own me, use me; I want to be your toy.".

Sometimes other girls would be brought into your shop window to put on an erotic show. Exquisite nymphs and rosy-cheeked Lolitas would explore your tender skin with their soft, wet tongues, leaving traces of hungry kisses, until at last their lips would close on the most intimate spot between your thighs.

On days like this, the whole of 'Eros' would shake with furious, jealous growls and thunderclaps. Dragons were terrible possessive, and even though the "scene" itself would excite the hell out of them, the jealousy would burn through their veins from the inside out, like a deadly poison.

"You belong to me, and only to me. You are mine, mine and mine alone. I will tear this girl apart, and we will fuck in her blood until there are no more conscious thoughts left in your pretty little head, until you remember nothing but my name.".

But no matter what their words were to you, you didn't have a care in the world. Nobody would dare touch the goddess, and if they tried, they would not only lose their hands but also get killed.

That was the law of the New Empire—all the people who were left were protected and sheltered in an incredible way. There were very few of you, and if there had been any harm to even one of you, it would have been a real tragedy.   Only once has there been a breach of that law, and the consequences have been terrible. No one wants a repeat.

In any case, your life in the Garden of Eros was a pleasure. Maybe it was some kind of perverse way of looking at the world and love, but you didn't have any desire to change anything; everything was great.

Have you ever wondered if there might be another version of you out there? Perhaps, somewhere in a parallel universe, humans would still exist as the dominant species, their countries and cities would be prosperous, and you would be living a different life—a normal one. There, in that other universe, that other Aphrodite—no, not Aphrodite—you would have an ordinary name, not a divine one, something cute, something sweet, and always with a hint of shyness. It is probably there that you would have experienced your first love, that you would dream of a prince who would take you off into the sunset, and that "and they lived happily ever after." You would have been embarrassed to talk about sex, and you would have blushed horribly if his fingers had been in your knickers. But you weren't her. And she wasn't you. You don't want to be saved from sinning; you want to become one of them. You want to experience forbidden pleasures. You want to subjugate and dominate.

You're not in need of a prince; you've already had a king, or rather, eight kings. The day will come when everything you have ever dreamed of will come true, even if you haven't met any of the Hala yet.

You want power; you want to sit on a golden throne in a castle high up in the sky, and so it shall be. They say that love is a great strength, but they fail to mention that it is also the greatest weakness. And you, like no one else, know how to use it to your advantage.

This is not a pink fairy tale. There are no rainbow ponies pooping rainbows and eating fairy dust. No, this is a rotten world. It is full of debauchery, violence, and sex. You could say, "Come and rescue me. I'm waiting for  you," but no, you have to rephrase it as "I'm waiting for you to crawl on your knees and lick my heels, and from that moment on, I will own you.".

Yes, that sounds much better.

It's already eight o'clock; time to get ready; you're leaving soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most famous glass house in the New Empire. Tonight we have wet aesthetic cunnilingus as our main course, and for dessert, a mind-blowing orgasm. You have a choice of starters. Drinks are on the house. We accept cash and checks. If you wish, you can leave a tip for one of our "jewels.".

Our hope is that your time at Eros will be an unforgettable experience.

[fickleminder]

with you

I wrote this based on vibes alone. Viva la OM fandom.

“Keep running!”

It felt like you were dreaming. Everything was rushing past you in a blur as Mammon pulled you along by an iron grip on your hand. He’d always been the fastest of his brothers, but you had no clue what the cause of his panic was this time.

“They’re coming for us.” Lucifer answered your unspoken question, frustration laced in his curt words. ��But we’ll make sure they don’t get you too.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked dazedly, still trying to understand what was happening. One moment you were minding your own business, the next the brothers were practically corralling you out of the house and towards who-knows-where. There was no warning, no fanfare, just a lot of urgency and confusion. “Who’s coming?”

“It’s the final boss! The one who’s been pulling all the strings from the start!” Levi wasn’t making any sense either. “So many plot holes, so many loose threads, and now they’re just gonna wipe the slate clean!”

“We’re getting you back to the human world. You have friends there, you’ll be okay.” Satan explained, oddly calm given the situation.

“But what about you guys?” The sinking feeling in your chest had reached your stomach. You felt as though you could puke from sheer stress alone, the way it seemed like they were saying goodbye. “And— and Diavolo, Barbatos, the angels—”

“They’ll meet us at the portal, so don’t stop working those legs honey!” Asmo tried to encourage you, his perfect smile straining against the exhaustion from keeping up with his brothers.

(“But Mephisto, Thirteen and Raphael—”

“Hush, Beel. MC doesn’t have to know they’re not coming. Not anymore.”

“…Okay.”)

The portal was wide open when you arrived. Diavolo and Barbatos greeted you with forced smiles which only made you freak out even more.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Diavolo said, looking at you apologetically. “I’m sorry for not consulting you about our decision first, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Whatever this is, we can face it together!” You reasoned, not above begging at this point. “I can help—”

“You can help by staying safe,” Barbatos interrupted you with a rare frown, and that was the moment you realized things were going to shit. Whatever your expression was, it made the butler’s soften gently. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take care of yourself from now on.”

Two arms wrapped around your waist like a vice, and you looked down to see Luke squeezing you like his life depended on it. “Don’t forget, you have my blessing, so everything’s gonna be okay, you’ll see!”

“No more tears, lamb.” Simeon reached out to wipe away the wet tracks on your cheeks. You didn’t realize the waterworks had started. It was the slow, quiet kind that came with deep sorrow etched into your very bones. “We’ll see each other again. Please try to stay strong until then.”

Solomon held out his hand and you took it without hesitation, your trust in your mentor unwavering. “We’ll be with you, always. Your pacts, your memories, they can’t take those away from you.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Your voice wobbled despite your best effort.

He only gripped your hand tighter, and that was answer enough.

“It is time,” Lucifer murmured. Everyone gathered behind you as you stepped towards the swirling mass of magic. No matter how hard you willed them, your legs simply refused to obey your heart, trudging robotically into the light and away from your family and home.

This was wrong, this was all wrong, how were you supposed to keep going without them—

“Our love for you is Eternal,” was the last thing you heard before Solomon let go and everything went white.

[foolforharrry]

So Good

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Harry and y/n's lazy Christmas morning where they're disgustingly in love

Warnings: There is a little smut in here

I hope you all have had an amazing holiday!! And that you enjoy this lil oneshot.

If you wanna check out more of my writings, my masterlist is here

Christmas has never been y/n’s favourite holiday. In fact, it’s been her least favourite holiday.

Growing up, she would hear her classmates talk about how their Christmas had been magical. Filled with love and laughter. Presents and someone dressing up as Santa Claus.

Even as they got older and realised that Santa wasn’t real, the magic of Christmas had then gone from a mysterious man delivering them presents in the dark of night to the love and laughter of all their loved ones gathered in one place.

Y/n didn’t understand why everyone else got so lucky when her holiday was filled with screaming and yelling at the top of her family’s lungs. Glasses and plates smashed against the walls. There was never a tree that they’d decorate together. Never any pretty lights hung up around the house.

The only thing that separated Christmas time in her family’s house from the rest of the year was that the fighting got worse from the alcohol the adults would consume to get through.

When y/n had opened up to Harry about why she doesn’t like the holiday that he adores so much he had vowed to do his absolute best to replace all the bad memories with happy ones.

And waking up slowly cuddled in bed with her boyfriend on Christmas morning is yet another happy memory y/n knows she’s going to cherish as she reflects on the day and evening before, face nuzzled into Harry’s warm chest.

They had spent the whole day at Anne’s. Anne has grown very fond of y/n in the almost three years she’s been with her son. So when she heard that she would finally be joining them to celebrate Christmas Eve, Anne had been over the moon with joy and hugged the girl as long as she let her when y/n and Harry had knocked on her door just before 12 o’clock.

Christmas Eve had been laughter and board games. Exchanging gifts and the small talk that louder as the day bled into the night and everyone was buzzing with the wine that was served.

It was the polar opposite of any Christmas Eve y/n had ever had in her life.

Y/n had tried to find a moment to thank Anne for opening her home to her, but every time she’d tried, Anne had waved her off saying that “My door is always open for family, dear.”

Right now, y/n feels at peace. As if she and Harry are in their own little, impenetrable bubble that she doesn’t ever want to leave. Feeling his chest rise and fall with every sleeping breath of air going in and out of his lungs as she traces the art inked into his skin exposed to the warm sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

It’s a type of serenity that she used to dream of having.

His skin has paled significantly from the Italian tan he had gotten over their long vacation in the summer, but still held a golden hue left to it.

The change in his breathing pattern is what alerts her that Harry is slowly waking up after however long she’s been in her own little world. Then a shift in his fingers splayed over the curve of her waist as she feels the vibrations in his chest before she hears his groggy morning voice rasp, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

The voice of the person she loves most in this world has a wide smile immediately forming on y/n’s face as she shifts her body so she’s laying on her stomach with her left cheek pillowed on Harry’s chest so she can look admire the beauty of a human being she’s sharing her bed with.

“Morning handsome.” Y/n smiles tiredly at him, humming in satisfaction when Harry starts drawing soft circles on the small of her back.

Harry had been planning on waking up at the ass crack of dawn today so that he could make her favourite breakfast, French toast and berries, and hot chocolate. Wake her up with loving kisses and one of her presents as they ate their meal cuddled in bed with Grey’s Anatomy, their favourite show at the time.

But when he had come to consciousness to the heavenly feeling of y/n nuzzled against his side, soft caressing touches where he knows his tattoos are, he couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed that his plan hadn’t worked out.

Both their faces are puffy from a night’s sleep and a soft blush is spread across their cheeks from the warmth of each other’s bodies.

Without saying a word, Harry pouts his pink lips for a kiss, expectant eyes watching hers as y/n connects the dots. Y/n is happy to oblige, shifting so she is lazily straddling his waist. Hands cupping his face tenderly as she connects their lips.

Harry hums into the kiss, squeezing her sides lovingly as he sits up fully, y/n’s butt now planted firmly on his lap.

Y/n pulls away momentarily, giggling at the disgruntled downturn of his lips when Harry realises that she’s no longer kissing him. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because.”, y/n pushes him back just enough to look him in the eye when Harry dips down to kiss her again. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

He nods for her to continue.

“Did you have a good dream or are you just happy to see me?”

A coy smirk takes over the frown that was etched on Harry’s face at her question, dropping his hands to her hips. “Always happy to see my girl.”

Satisfied with her answer, y/n picks up where they left off. Almost.

There’s more intent in the way Harry swipes his tongue over her bottom lip for access and the quick pull y/n gives the curls at the back of Harry’s neck.

It quickly turns more heated. Roaming hands and a small whimper from y/n when Harry guides her hips to grind down on him, the only thing separating them being the thin cotton of their underwear.

“I need you.”, Harry breathes against her lips, his body hot all over and pupils blown from the lust rushing through his system.

Y/n can feel how hard he is and it’s only making her more aroused as she nods, going to kiss him again.

But he stops her, waiting until she is looking at him with a pout on her lips before he speaks, “Words, baby.”

“I need you too. Please.”

With that Harry rolls her off him so he’s hovering over her, y/n on her back with her head on the soft pillows, not wasting a second to pull Harry’s face down to hers, needing to taste him as she tangles her fingers in his messy curls.

After kissing like that for a bit longer, Harry moves on from her mouth and starts trailing kisses down her neck, relishing in the small whimpers and shaky breaths he pulls out from her when he leaves love bites at the spots he knows she’s extra sensitive.

He keeps sucking and licking her skin until she’s squirming and begging him to give her more.

Who is he to deny her that?

Helping her to sit up just enough, he is quick to pull her t-shirt over her head, chucking it to the side without a care about where it lands. His breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on her.

Almost completely naked and all his. Her breasts full and the soft rolls of her stomach he would worship every second of the day if she let him. The small, white scar just below her left collarbone. Faded enough that the only reason he knows where it is, is all the hours he’s spent admiring her.

If it had been any other person just looking at her as intensely as Harry does, y/n would’ve tried covering herself up. And at the beginning of their relationship, she had. Until she realised that there wasn’t one hint of judgement or ill-intended thought behind those green eyes she loves so much. It was pure love and adoration.

“Beautiful.”, Harry whispers. Low enough to make y/n wonder if he even meant for her to hear it.

Not that she gets a long time to when he starts kissing down the length of her torso, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses in his wake that has a shiver going down her spine. He hooks his fingers underneath the band of her panties before he drags them down her legs and throws them in a similar manner to the shirt.

Harry lays down on his stomach between her legs as he kisses the inside of her thighs teasingly, knowing that the attention to the soft, flesh would make her even more impatient than she already is.

“Stop teasing.”, y/n whines, not caring how desperate she sounds. Or about the smug curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry darling. I’ll take care of you.”

And with that he puts y/n out of her misery, attaching his mouth to her pussy and eating her out in the way he knows will have her back arching.

Harry can’t lie and say that the fact that y/n was wet to the point where he could see the arousal leaking from her vagina without having even touched her, wasn’t a very nice stroke to his ego.

The attention to her clit already has y/n squirming, Harry’s arms wrapping around the thick of her thighs to keep her still as he hums at her taste. The vibrations intensify everything she’s already feeling, not able to keep the moans from falling anymore. And Harry definitely doesn’t mind.

All his senses are taken over by her. The taste, smell and feel of her is all there is and he would happily drown in it all.

Dizzy with pleasure, y/n’s eyelids fall heavy as she feels herself getting closer and closer to her high, vice-like grip on Harry’s hair to keep herself from flying into outer space.

Harry notices all the tell-tale signs. Her muscles tensed. Breath shallowing. Thighs squeezing the sides of his head like she’s afraid he’ll stop. That’s the last thing he wants to do. And he gets exactly what they both want.

Her high racks through her body, her whole body locking up as she comes, Harry helping her through it as she slowly but surely sinks into the mattress. Her chest still rises and falls rapidly, a shine of sweat covering her flushed skin as Harry detaches himself from her centre, pressing loving, delicate kisses along the skin. Murmured whispers of praise fill the silence as he works his way up her body.

“How’d I do?”, Harry asks her, nudging his nose against hers, a wide smile breaking out on his face when his favourite colour comes into view.

Y/n smiles lazily back at him, “So good, my love.”

Being the sucker for praise he is, Harry’s smile gets impossibly wider when she continues; “Always treat me so well. Don’t know what I’d do without my sunshine. I love you so much.” Her eyes are hazy and voice dreamy as she speaks, her head still in the clouds.

“You sure you don’t just love my tongue?”, he teases, unable to help himself.

Y/n rolls her eyes at him, pushing him off her body in fake offence, teeth digging into her bottom lip to keep from smiling too hard. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Only for you.”, Harry quips with a kiss to her bare shoulder, relishing in the new blush coating her cheeks.

He’ll never get sick of making his girl blush.

He’s about to say something else when her smile drops, a look of guilt rises in its wake. Confusion replacing Harry’s. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“You didn’t finish.”, she states, that look still there.

Relief has Harry letting out a laugh that it wasn’t anything serious. Y/n doesn’t understand why he’s laughing though. No matter how many times Harry has assured her that he’s always ok and that he just loves pleasing the woman he loves, she always wants him to feel good too.

Her question about what’s so funny to him is quickly answered when his laughter dies down and he looks at her sheepishly. “I did finish.” Cheeks red as a tomato at the confession that fell from his lips.

Stunned to silence, her eyes dart from his face to his crotch. When it fully dawns on her what he’s saying and she’s seeing, y/n can’t help the giggles bubbling in her stomach. The giggles quickly escalated to full-out cackling that earns her a playful shove when she can’t stop.

The sweet sound of her loud, bright laughter makes it extremely difficult for Harry to even be embarrassed about it anymore. It instead has him joining her. He knows it’s never ill-intended.

Once they’ve calmed down, y/n makes sure she understood him right, “You really just came in your pants eating me out?”

“Like a fucking teenager.”, Harry nods before he’s pulling her body back to his, missing the feeling of her skin on his. Y/n happily obliges, tangling her legs with his again.

They fall back into a comfortable silence as they enjoy the other’s presence and warmth for a few minutes. No words were exchanged. Just affectionate touches and hearts full and content, beating to the same rhythm.

They might not be perfect. But for each other, they’re just right.

Rain doesn’t exist without the sun. The tide wouldn’t be without the magnetic forces from the moon. The ocean wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be so lively and free. So rich with life.

It might have been perfect without the chaos. But it would never have been so beautiful.

At least that’s the conclusion y/n makes wrapped up in the comfort of Harry’s embrace. Harry is her sun, her moon. He’s her calm and her storm. He’s her shelter and her sunshine. He’s everything she’s ever wanted and more than she thinks she deserves.

Harry feels the exact same way about her. Never has he ever met someone who can keep her warmth and light through her darkest days without letting them go dim and cold. In the fog, she’s his lighthouse. Always there to guide him back to safety. Home.

Before her, his world was grey and dull. Then she came along and brought all the colour and life he didn’t even know existed with her.

The love they have for each other is one that’s so painfully obvious they couldn’t even hide it if they tried.

It’s Harry who breaks the silence, a light tap on her hip to get her attention, “Wanna go get cleaned up, love?”

Without moving a muscle, she hums her agreement. “Not comfortable to lay here with your underwear soaked in cum, is it?”

“Shut up.”, Harry whines, pinching the chub of her waist, making her jolt and laugh. “Couldn’t help it. Not when you looked and sounded so incredibly sexy.” The words are spoken in a tone that has a shiver running down y/n’s spine.

Before they get too occupied again, y/n reluctantly rolls off Harry. But not before giving Harry a quick peck on the lips.

She’ll never get tired of his lips.

Harry is quick to trail after her, smiling fondly when she nearly trips over her own two feet on their journey to their shared bathroom.

While they stand under the warm stream of water together, Harry’s shower playlist echoing off the tiled walls, y/n decides that if this is how Christmas morning is going to be from now on, there’s a possibility that Christmas could become a holiday she enjoys. And it would all be thanks to him.

And she tells him just that, looking into the sea of green she loves so much as the water cascades around them. The comforting scent of the shampoo she’s used since she was a teenager. Only it didn’t make her feel any type of way until Harry started using hers, saying that it makes his hair feel soft. So now the fresh smell of coconut belongs to him.

Harry turns her around so he can lather conditioner through her hair, giving the top of her head a kiss that had y/n’s tummy swarming with butterflies. “You know.”, he starts. “I’ve always been a sucker for the holidays. But you’ve made this one a hundred times better than I thought it could ever be.”

Y/n turns back around with a bashful pull to her lips, “Ditto.” 

-

If you guys want me to write the rest of their Christmas day, please let me know.

[swallowedbyfandom]

Lay down your dreams

After she speaks with her mama she decides she knows exactly what to do. It is time to stop hiding she is so very tired of making herself smaller to be more palpable for the society. She is tired of people claiming to love her but never allowing her to speak. She is tired of allowing Colin to blame her for his own blindness. He was her most frequent correspondent, he could have figured it out if he ever bothered to think on it.

She looks at her once vibrant mother. She remembers thinking as a girl that her mama was the most beautiful Lady. Now her mama is worn too thin. Her fierce mother has lied, cheated, and literally stolen to support their family. Her tasteless, tacky mama is a survivor. So is she. Penelope respects that, is proud of it.

Dash it all. She is Penelope Featherington, The Lady Whistledown, that is a better legacy than being Penelope Bridgerton, the unheard wife of a third son. In a way she wants to thank him for being so stupidly hurtful she has finally had enough. She was willing to give up Whistledown for him. She did give up her only source of power for him however temporarily it was.

He however didnot even set down his hurt long enough to have a discussion with her. He claimed she entrapped him, when he was the one who ruined her prospects. She wishes to all that is holy that they had never been intimate. He was not worthy of her virtue. She has never needed Colin's conditional honor. The final straw was when he ignored her opinion on Cressida Cowper.

She heads back to Bloomsbury to gather her belongings. She has Rae and some of the Featherington staff pack her trunks and load them on the carriage before heading back to Featherington House. She hands Varley enough to make the Finch/Dankworth Ball the most elegant and gaudy ball Mayfair has ever seen. She wants her sisters and her mother to have a magical night that reflects the loud vibrant women they are.

She settles into her childhood room, to set her schemes into motion. She writes a letter for Violet explaining everything she wished to explain. The beginning, the middle, and this bittersweet end. She includes her engagement and wedding band. She shall have the letter delivered the afternoon of the ball. Let Colin deal with his mother's disappointment. Violet she knows will understand her reasons better than most.

Their ball is a victory for the ladies of her house. Widowed, married, and newly single alike. Colin of course comes to her after the Queen's judgement with his heart in hand. He finally sees her. He is beautiful, earnest and as always, he is a day late and a shilling short. She takes his hands in hers and tells him she had their marriage annulled on the grounds of fraud and lack of consummation.

He tries to protest but she will not have it. She drops his hands and speaks her truth.

"You had your chance to fix things, Colin. You turned your back on me. All your claims of love, devotion, and protection were empty. Our marriage was a farce. You never allowed me the dignity of explaining myself. You ran. You always run, Colin."

She cries silently while she continues. It will always hurt she thinks. The loss of this beautiful dream she no longer believes in. Colin has shattered her heart and her faith in him for the last time. Love is not always enough.

"I asked my mama how one knows if they are with child and she explained it to me. I started my courses two days ago and I have no symptoms. I can safely conclude I am not with child. You can no longer claim I have entrapped you. The annulment has been signed, sealed, and filed already. I have returned the rings to your mother and removed my belongings from your home."

"I wish you well, Mr. Bridgerton. Good bye."

She leaves him standing there.

She is as free as a woman in society can be. She is not yet comfortable with the attention and the problems she will face being Whistledown publicly but her mama will not be implicated in theft. The solicitor will believe the inheritance to be Whistledown income. It is not too far from the truth anyway. She has been discreetly paying down her papa's debt for years. Her family will endure. She will head to the country with her mama next week. She thinks she will write a book as her next endeavor.

Perhaps the Queen would be open to sharing her love story. It cannot hurt to ask.

[ava-dambrosio]

For the first time in a long time, I'm back in Greece.

Back in my hometown. Back with my family. Back in the comfort of my own house. There really is no place like it. But within these walls I call my own, has the silence always been this deafening? And why has the joyful chatter in family gatherings become so muted?

Tonight, I sit among my cousins at my grandparents' courtyard, celebrating my beloved grandmother's 85th birthday. The family has gone all out with the decorations, the food, the music — as they should. And by the look in my Yia-Yia's eyes, we've done well. It was like a scene from a movie, the kind that's meant to melt your heart and lift your spirits. But to me, it feels too much like one. A movie, that is. I'm happy, of course, for my grandmother and for my family. Happy to be there. But it feels different. Like second-hand happiness. Vicarious. The entire festivity was like this, for me at least; watching a beautiful dream from behind a window, a screen.

As I look down at my wine glass, its contents didn't look right. It certainly didn't taste right. Nor did my grandmother's birthday cake, which is a real damn shame because serano cakes topped with fresh berries have always been my absolute favourite. Yet, it sits there, barely touched, like a piece of prop in a twisted dream I can never wake up from.

I excuse myself and rush inside. I needed to get out of there, if only to take a breather. But before I could help myself, I was bent over the toilet, throwing up absolutely nothing. Anxiety does that to you, they said. Ugh. As if I needed this pain. I try again, hoping to find relief at the end of it all. Yet still nothing. I don't know what I was thinking. I've not had an appetite since God knows when, so of course nothing will come out.

Forcing myself up, I almost laugh at my reflection. In true nightmare fashion, I look like the ghost of my old self. Complete with pallid skin, and circles under my eyes so dark it can only come from all the sleep I have not been getting. Anxiety plagues me, day in and day out. It seeps into my head even in the rare moments when I've managed some sleep.

The choice to put family before my career was a decision I didn't hesitate to make, but it didn't mean I don't miss it being up there in the clouds. Flying has always been my sanctuary, and now, I have to stay put and do without. Because for someone who is as obsessed with flight as I am, nothing comes before family — a value instilled in us by my grandmother and her grandmother before her.

As if on cue, Yia-Yia finds me not long after. Of course, she does. Grandmothers are magic like that. But even after I've washed my face and brandished my newly crafted smile, it's clear she's not buying it. Concerned, she sits me down. She doesn't speak, she doesn't prod. She simply pulls me into her arms and soothes me, just like she would when I was little. And in spite of my stubborn self, I eventually break down. A first for me. I don't like sharing my emotions, not if I can help it. But her silence is different. It's warm and comforting, and before I know it, I'm crying in her arms, and sharing with her everything I've been so scared to say out loud.

Cupping my face, my gentle grandmother looks me in the eye, and I feel like I'm five years old all over again, safe in the comfort of my family. "You'll get through this, my dove, as you've always done," she reassures me. "You won't ever have to carry the weight alone; your family is right here with you."

Her words are so simple, yet it struck something in me. And for the first time in weeks, I don't feel as scared anymore because she's right. I've got everything I need — I have my family. I have my friends. I have him.

Together, we'll get through whatever comes.

[perfectisgeorgette]

Disco Margaritas -playlist

Georgette to Mim @madmagicmim

Disco margs a playlist for: that feeling when you take a sip of your first drink out with your closest friends, a cracking of a seltzer at a family gathering during the summer, dancing in the kitchen with your closest girls to an ABBA song on a Saturday night. A lifestyle, a moment, making memories, and shutting down all the silly bullshit.

🪩 Houdini (Adam Port mix) - Dua Lipa, Adam Port

Maybe you could be the one to make me stay. There isnt a single Dua Lipa song that isn’t an absolute bop. Even if they don’t admit it every girl dreams about a guy who can finally measure up and make her stay. No houdini act over here - not this time.

🪩 Stay High - Diplo, HUGEL, Julia Church

Staying in my play pretend; where the fun ain’t got no end. A remix of a Tove Lo song from 2014. If there is one thing that keeps past relationships no matter the kind at bay it’s a good song. No need to get to a higher level when this song is just as good.

🪩 Milkshake 20 (Alex Wann Remix) - Kelis, Alex Wann

Damn right it’s better than yours. The old banger from elementary school is still a hit. With a cool dance vibe it’s nothing like owning your own self confidence about what you’ve got! Can’t sing it without feeling yourself a bit. Confidence baby!

🪩 Teenage Crime - Adrian Lux

We don’t sleep when the sun goes down. This song just pulls you right to a bestie moment. Let it be when you were young and having a sleep over doing prank calls or staying out late causing a ruckus. It’s moments like that that tie to songs forever.

🪩 Like That - Seamus D

Argue, you yell, but you take me back. This song puts you back with your first love. The fairy tale of it all. Even if you don’t want to be whisked away there always that feeling of addiction when you’re with the one you first loved. You may not need to wish to take them back or to even find them but it isnt illegal to think about it.

🪩 Heaven Takes You Home (ft Connie Constance) - Swedish House Mafia, Connie Constance

Show 'em how the struggle made magic. There is something about a nice hug and that is what this song brings. There are many interpretations of the lyrics but when you get to the bottom of it its about people parting ways in some sense. Weather its good or bad it still feels like a good hug when you are going through a hard time.

🪩 Doses & Mimosas (Vintage Culture & Zerky remix) - Vintage Culture, Zerky, Cherub

Cryin' when you're by yourself 'Cause of what they think. Everyone loves a girl that is not afraid of consequences. Every girl has had the issues with feeling left out, bothered, or down - this songs is a big f you to them. Seeking the fun and high of a party is a a fictional ideal way to forget all about it...while dancing and vibing.

🪩 Love Runs Deep - Autograf, Tiina

You've been walking under dark clouds. Everyone has struggles and problems no matter who they are. This dong takes you from thinking about those problems and realizing that through love no matter the kind you can get through them. Just a feel good song to raise your mood no matter what the situation.

🪩 Waterloo - ABBA

The history book on the shelf is always repeating itself. This song may have its hidden meaning that everyone deciphers differently but that doesn't matter. This song alone can bring any mood from sour to sweet. Dancing and singing to this song in the shower, your car, the kitchen or with friends. Top 5 feel good songs.

🪩 Don’t Leave (Throttle remix) - Snakeships, MØ, Throttle

I'm a girl with a temper and heat. Own your true self. This song takes every quality of a fiery woman and puts it on the table. There is no reason to change who you are for someone and you are capable of being there for anyone no matter how hot you may be.

🪩 Sexual (Oliver Nelson Remix) - NEIKED, Dyo, Oliver Nelson

Now I caught you, I won't let you go. There is hidden meanings of this song but those are up to the listener to interpret. The song is just feel good and it is impossible to not vibe to. The song has been taken down a lot from streaming services but it definitely one to save.

Disco Margaritas is for the vibes darling. Love, Georgette

[nihilight]

i haven't been remembering my dreams for about 2 years. even more rare is when i have the epic -- be it good dream or nightmare -- Whole Sleep Dream. the kind where, even hours after you wake up, you remember EVERYTHING.

last night i had both, & it went a little something like this:

CW: animal death, SA.

your usual apocalytic setting. the weather was frightening & gorgeous. the sky was a juxtaposition of sunlight & storm. snow came. falling ice shards. so much snow & sunlight; it can't possibly be so hot & cold at once, but it is.

my house is some hybrid of my house, my mom's house, and the basement of shy's grandfather's house, where we lived briefly in 1996 in a moldy, spider & ant infested room, with an even worse bathroom on the other side of the basement.

keith is keith, but keith doesn't look like keith? it's a male, same approx build, but i never see his face, either because of a face shield/ski mask/scarves, etc. the voice isn't right either.

people are frantic. the snow is piling up & the hot hot sun won't melt it. planes in the air are crashing, falling. news can't keep up, but towers that carry signals are exploding by the second, all over the word, so we're all on our own.

i'm trying to figure out how to get shy, J, & my mom back to our house. keith tells me to start reinforcing windows & get the girls food, needs, 1st aid stuff, basic food, water, & everything gathered. we decide given the pace & direction of the weather that our bedroom will be our hole up spot.

we are a solidified unit, a team. we got this.

i do this, he takes the blazer to fetch the family, chilly, ruby.

<i wake up here. i turn over, push mina a little, readjust, go back to sleep.>

4 hours later, keith returns. they only live like maybe 2 or 3 miles away, and it took 4 hours. by now, there are a few more people in our house bc i can't say no. people who i let in, had something to contribute: food, radios, flashlights, water, blankets, etc.

i go into hyperfixation mode & get everyone organized with a little spot, that still leaves room to quickly move around, etc.

it takes forever to get the door back open against the snow & ice over it, that the sun is somehow still not melting. (yet how did i get people in? idk, dream logic) vehicles are smashed & on fire here & there but it isn't melting anything either.

as we're getting everyone in, some monster truck comes flying through out of control, having hit an iceblock in the road. it smashes into our blazer. 'fucking hell,' keith says, & then magically sparrow is there, runs out frantically bc she's confused, & gets hit by another car flying through.

i lose my shit. keith says to stop being emotional because there isn't time for that. i feel my heart both shatter & flare with anger at those words. i say nothing, & help get everyone inside as 2 more planes crash in the air, & pieces fall down.

<i wake up here, cold sweat. i spend a few minutes petting mina with my face in her flank. mina rumbles, does big comfy breathing sighs. i fall back asleep>

chaos at hume home across the street. half the building is smashed from airplane parts. 'can you come cook a few meals to get us through a couple days? we'll send you home with a few huge cans of veggies, milk, cooler boxes...' (we don't have cooler boxes IRL, but sure.)

it takes me about 25 minutes to get over there (2 mins IRL), over all the ice chunks, busted cars, bodies, airplane parts. i do the cooking, they tell me cleanup doesn't matter but i do it anyway (???), and then i work on making the trek back home.

i see keith talking to the dude with the monster truck who hit our blazer. i call out for help dragging these cooler boxes full of shit, but they both just look at me. 'you've been doing kettlebells,' says monster truck driver, looking me up and down, creepy. 'you can handle it. it'll keep you warmed up.'

'for what?' i ask. i need to know what's coming. i need order. i need... something, here, bc so far i've been doing a damn good job at not losing my shit, especially with sparrows body getting covered up by ice that the sun won't melt, 15 feet away in the street.

they don't answer. when i get to our driveway, keith grabs the boxes, says thanks, kisses my forehead and adjusts my hat and scarf, then gets inside. confused, i go to follow him, but monster truck guy grabs my arm.

'just be quick,' keith says to monster truck guy, then goes inside and shuts the door.

s*x traded for the truck.

'it was you or your kid, i mean... it's a monster fucking TRUCK!'

so, that happens. on a jagged pile of snow & ice that the sun won't seem to melt.

when i get all my layers put back on, wipe my nose, ignore all the cold/hot cuts on my back, & get inside, i start to cry.

"you have to stop being so emotional about this," my mom says, tiredly, from a couch in my living room that's purple now, instead of brown. part of me is frantically trying to point this out to another part of me (forcing lucid dreaming--it's a long explanation), or look for my hands, or something. 'everything's different now, we have to make sacrifices.'

shy & i's eyes meet from across the room. 'wake up,' they said.

there's a pounding at the front door, & someone yelling that i need to get back to work. the sound of collision, an inward sucking of air that pulls everything into silence, & then a crash as more airplane parts drop on the front porch section of the house.

shy's at my elbow now, their little hands curled around my bicep. 'wake up,' they said again.

i woke up, and it was 8.45a, mina was curled against me. i exhaled. i started to just sob, hard, for maybe ... idk, 20 seconds?

but i stopped, bc i was ✨ being emotional ✨ & now i'm just angry & feeling sad.

i guess the gist here is that something in me is damn sick and tired of being pegged as emotional, crazy, or bitchy, when things keep changing with no pre-amble or slight explanation, i get pushed, or etc, & even more sick & tired of having to explain why to save face. i feel like i'm being gaslit & brain-r*ped when people do it.

yeah, i see you out there, i heard what you said, with your MA in psychology. it sure does seem like i'm using my NDs as an "excuse," doesn't it? it's because i fucking have to keep explaining why.

but i'm done! :) i've cared too much about people liking me, or being the one that people DON'T have to whisper about. well, whisper away... cause i can't be myself happily when juxtaposed with having to embarrassingly explain myself too. i'm turning 40-fucking-5 tomorrow. i'm halfway to 90.

i literally don't have it in me to care about people outside my circle anymore, if they aren't even going to take 10 seconds to try to understand someone outside their norm.

& also when the world ends? i hope it's that fucking gorgeous.

[whumping-in-the-wings]

Posting late on account of an insanely packed weekend (graduation ceremony, family in town, the works). But I still had a chance to get this chapter done, so I’m just throwing it out there now and then resuming Traces on Friday! Fair warning that this is still mostly plot, but there’s a bit of whump this time and I’m so insanely proud of this story’s next act. Hope you enjoy! Also, this is apparently my 100th post, so hooray for that.

CW: magic-based slavery, emotional whump, some physical abuse, verbal abuse, hallucinations (does that need a tag?)

Taglist: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @honey-is-mesi (as always, let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the list!)

Perfect Sorrows: Part Ten

Previous | Masterlist |

Nightfall brought with it the feeling of winter. The streets were mostly empty, the usual night-people of Paris driven indoors by a cold, wet wind that threatened rain. The sky was even blacker than usual, the stars blurred out by an invisible cloak of sullen clouds, the street-lamps sputtering ineffectively against the dark.

It was a perfect night to try and slip away, especially because Laurent was gone, taking advantage of the darkness to do what an assassin did. Sacha had been sneaking glances out the narrow kitchen window all evening, trying to make up his mind without giving away to the others that he was up to something.

Although they, it seemed, had already decided that he was. Since his first effort at friendship with Jeanne three days ago, she had sent for him every afternoon, keeping him there sometimes for an hour or more. It wasn’t altogether bad- she seemed genuinely delighted by his company, and when he could manage to forget Monsieur Camille’s sinister presence just down the hall, he was almost able to enjoy himself. But he paid for it in a new resentment from Hugo and Ondine. Ondine could barely look at him now without curling her lip in a sneer, and Hugo was colder and more imperious than ever, as though he was trying to put Sacha back in his place. More than once he’d overheard himself as the subject of their gossip, both of them wondering how he of all people- the one who could never do anything right- had somehow won the favor of Monsieur Camille’s beautiful, perfect niece. Up until now there had at least been some common ground between the three of them, all of them Camille’s creatures, all of them equally trapped, but now his master’s game had taken even that small comfort away.

In short, he was lonely, desperately lonely, and even more so because of Jeanne’s friendship, which only he knew wasn’t really real. It was time to find one that might be. It was time to discover the secret of Alexandre and the Rue de Phénix.

It seemed like an eternity until he was finally left to his own devices, both of the others somehow managing to find just one more thing for him to do, one more bit of gossip to speculate on. But finally, finally, two hours to midnight, they had taken themselves off to bed and left him to himself with the last of the kitchen chores for company. More out of fear than anything, he had finished them as quickly as he could. It’ll be bad enough if someone catches me trying to leave the house. Better not leave anything else for them to be angry about. But nervousness made his movements quicker than usual, and all too soon there was nothing left in his way, nothing to do now but gather every last bit of courage and take his life, for once, into his own hands.

Heart in his throat, he slipped off his worn shoes and tiptoed softly across the kitchen floor, testing each step before he put his weight down in case something creaked or scraped and gave him away. He’d spent so much of his short life in this room, knew every inch of it like he knew his own face in the mirror, but he’d never dared to do something like this, and the sheer audacity of it turned the familiar space into a daunting challenge. Bit by careful bit he made his way, trying to be cautious enough to move silently, but trying to be quick, too. It was already past nine o’clock. Who knew what was in store for him at the Rue de Phénix, and who knew how long it would wait?

His anxiety turned a few moments into an eternity; it felt like hours before he was setting a slightly shaking hand on the door that led to the street outside, to a brief bit of stolen freedom, to…well, whatever Alexandre had meant. Hardly daring to breathe, he reached out and turned the knob, slowly, slowly, remembering an instant too late that it sometimes squeaked in protest, wincing as the sound rang out, a thousand times louder in the silence-

And immediately lost in the crash of the other door, the one behind him that led into the kitchen from the rest of the house, being thrown violently open. Sacha whirled around, words instantly failing him at the sight of Laurent’s powerful figure silhouetted in the doorframe, dressed all in black and spattered with blood that was almost definitely not his own, the dim glow of the banked fire glinting off the knife in his hand.

The man crossed the floor in a few swift strides, his heavy footsteps ringing in Sacha’s ears like the drumbeat of an execution, a cruel sneer twisting his craggy face into something utterly nightmarish. “I thought we might get something like this from you,” he growled. “So the girl’s turned your head, has she? Made you think you’re someone special? Maybe I ought to show her that chest her uncle keeps in his study, hmm? Show her what you really are.” He advanced closer, so close that Sacha could feel the heat of his breath, smell the scent of blood. One thick hand shot out and seized him by the collar; the other lifted the knife, pressing it to the scar under his eye. “You are never going to leave this house again,” Laurent hissed, his own eyes glowing red as a demon’s in the darkness. “You are never going to escape.” He bore down, the knife a thin line of ever-increasing pain that would split the skin at any moment. Sacha closed his eyes, bracing for the sharp sting of the first cut.

He opened them again to find himself alone, standing in the kitchen with his trembling hand still on the doorknob, the other door still securely shut, Laurent still out somewhere prowling the Paris streets. None of it had been real, nothing more than his over-anxious mind bringing his worst fears to life for a moment. With a flush of shame he realized he was shaking; even his breath came in shuddering gasps that he struggled to stifle, afraid they would be overheard.

“You coward,” he whispered, clenching his hand into a fist on the battered wood of the door. “You coward!” Wasn’t it bad enough that he had given in to Camille’s demands, put himself ahead of Jeanne and surrendered to the game? Wasn’t it bad enough that he couldn’t resist the real threats when it counted? Now here he was, conjuring up new ones out of thin air and letting himself be frightened half to death of things that didn’t exist and never had. Pathetic, his mind taunted.

He stood there for a moment while the last of the fear and panic drained away, feeling that hot, bright flame of guilt and self-hatred licking at him, scorching him from the inside out. And then, with a sudden burst of something that was either bravery or sheer desperation, he seized hold of the doorknob again and all but flung himself out into the cold, dark street.

If he had stopped there, even for a moment, he knew he would never have taken another step, would have been overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of what he had just done and what it might cost him. Instead he forced himself not to think about it, to keep putting one foot in front of the other, reaching one goal at a time. First the end of the walkway, then the end of the street. Past the next street, and the next, and the next. Past the well, past the cafe, and then he was farther out into the streets of Paris than he had ever been before.

It was certainly a miserable night for such a thrilling thing. The wind felt cold enough to cut him to the bone. He wished he’d had the foresight to bring his coat, shabby as it was. He wished, for one wild moment, that he’d had the audacity to sneak into the study and try to steal back his fur. If I did that, I wouldn’t have to go back. I could stay out here forever. I could be free.

But that would have been too great a risk to take. Even if he could break the lock on the chest where Camille kept his secrets, how could he tell which fur had been his? No. It was better this way, taking one small chance at a time. Freedom…he had no idea what that was like. But maybe this way I can learn, even if it’s only an hour here and there.

It had been a long time since he’d been regularly sent out into the city, and so much of it was still a mystery to him. On a night like this, there was no one around to ask for directions- and, with all the spells Monsieur Camille placed over his secrets, no way to know he’d be seen or heard even if there had been. But he did the best he could, trying to remember the direction Alexandre had gone, slipping from shadow to shadow until the name of each street was clear enough to read. Simple as it was- and despite the risk of getting himself hopelessly lost or, worse, running straight into Laurent- there was still something about it that lifted his spirits a little. This was life, real life. This was what hundreds of thousands of people did every day, with nothing but their own dreams and wishes to guide them, without the faintest trace of magic to get in the way. This was being human.

When he finally found the Rue de Phénix, it was only by almost walking straight past it. It was not what he had been expecting and nothing like anything he knew. There were no townhouses or marble facades or fountains on this street, only a long, drab line of small, shabby houses that looked as though the next gust of wind might send them tumbling down on each other. The whole place seemed to be a single shade of tired gray, with all the life and spirit sucked out of it, like one of Camille’s ivy sprigs when he was finished with a spell. How could Alexandre and his bright grin belong anywhere near a place like this?

Sacha had more questions now than ever, especially now that the answers were so close. “The seventh house on the right side of the street,” he murmured, repeating it under his breath until he’d found the place. Even here, there was nothing to set this house apart from any of the others: it was just as small, just as rundown, no secret signs on the door or magic shields or hidden messages to tell him he had come to the right place. And there was no sign of Alexandre, not that there would be on a night like this at such a late hour.

But there was a plume of smoke coming from the chimney, trailing upwards to lose itself in the black sky, and there was light trickling invitingly from underneath the door, a soft murmur of voices audible behind it. A lump rose in Sacha’s throat. It might be shabby, but there was something about this place that felt like the one thing Camille’s townhouse had never managed to be: a home.

He’d made it here after all. That, in itself, was a miracle. Let Camille keep his secrets. He had his own, now. There was no more need to wait, nothing else to be afraid of. For these few hours, for however long he could manage to stay here, he had made himself as free as anyone else on these streets.

He gave himself no time to think better of it. He raised his hand and knocked, timidly, but still, it was something. The sound stilled the voices in the room, as though they had been waiting for him; he heard a chair scrape, and saw a shadow flicker in the candlelight, as someone stood.

And the door opened.

[carewyncromwell]

“I haven't been running from my problems --  I've been running from you! What kind of parents would rather see their daughter dead Than be married to a man from the wrong family?!”

~“Stronger” from & Juliet

x~x~x~x

tw: physical and emotional abuse

x~x~x~x

The Cromwell estate was a very large property in the outskirts of Yorkshire. It was honestly remarkable that such an old and beautiful manor house could live in such isolation, but the cloaking spells around the house were virtually impregnable. It warded off not only Muggles, but all creatures as well. No one could Apparate onto or Disapparate out of the property -- instead one would either have to use the very well-guarded Floo Network grate in Charles’s office or Apparate outside the house and come through an enchanted gate that only a member of the Cromwell family could open. There were times that the enchantments around the house were so strong that it was even impervious to the elements outside, warding off rainstorms before they could go any further than the back gardens. 

Marilyn Cromwell would say it made her family’s home a sanctuary, safely detached from the normal mess and noise of everyday life. For Lane, however, not being able to go out and play in puddles, hear any birds singing outside, or even watch frost crystallize over the windowpane was just one more mark of how like a prison this house was. 

Now, of course, Lane hadn’t always seen it that way. In the beginning, she didn’t give the arrangement much thought at all, aside from her usual discontent at being forced to attend social gatherings and entertain her father’s coworkers. She’d contented herself with the contents of her father’s library for most of her life, escaping onto the pages of A History of Magic, Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, and biographies about Cornelius Agrippa and Uric the Oddball. Charles had actually encouraged Lane’s escapism in his own weird way, generously giving her free reign to borrow and read whatever book she wished from his library. It was a freedom Lane had cherished at the time, before realizing just how many subjects were censored from Charles’s collection. How many authors were censored from it...

It was largely thanks to the love of learning Charles had encouraged in Lane by reading in his library that resulted in her being sorted into Ravenclaw house. And sure enough, it was here -- and at Hogwarts itself -- that Lane saw starkly just how many things had been denied her at home. 

Not having to wake up at the same time every single day. 

Having a pet. 

Choosing what you wanted to wear, no matter what was scheduled for the day. 

Being allowed to eat whatever and as much as you wanted, when you wanted. 

Making real friends. 

Having actual privacy -- being allowed to write, do and say whatever you wanted, without being afraid that your father would somehow immediately know you’d done wrong no matter how much you might try to hide it. 

Even being able to sit back in a comfy chair and just look out the window! At school Lane had multiple windows in her dormroom -- ones tall as the ceiling and completely uncovered, which let in both sunlight and moonlight that lit up the whole room, and yet also looked out toward the entire Hogwarts grounds, thanks to the height of Ravenclaw Tower. At home Lane had to settle for one very tiny window mounted high on the wall over her bed, which overlooked nothing but the flower-trimmed hedges in the back garden. She could barely even see the sky, the hedges grew so high. 

And then there was the library. Hogwarts’s library was the place of dreams, for Lane Cromwell. Compared to her father’s admittedly rather respectable collection at home, Hogwarts’s library was nirvana -- endless rows of shelves, all a mile high, full of books about every subject: even ones Lane hadn’t known were subjects before! Books about scrying and Flesh-Eating Trees -- scholarly journals about new and developing Potions research -- even a few fictional stories written by Muggles! David Copperfield by Charles Dickens -- Animal Farm by George Orwell -- Treasure Island and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson...all books Lane hid safely under her pillow in her dormroom, half out of fear of her siblings seeing her with them and half to sneak a few more chapters after curfew while everyone else was asleep. 

After reading those, she actually sought out other books written by Muggles -- this time regarding her favorite subject, history. Thanks to her dormmates, who were all thoroughly charmed by softspoken Lane getting so excited about something, the third-eldest Cromwell got her hands on even more interesting books, including The Diary of Anne Frank and biographies for Muggles like Elizabeth I and William Wilberforce. Lane’s dormmates also introduced her to other interesting Muggle things, like soda pop and roller-skates. And from there, Lane’s love of Muggles and the world they’d created only grew, to the point that she’d even fallen hard for a Muggle she’d collided with in her best friend Judy Castine’s neighborhood -- a protective, upright young man named Evan Bach.

At school Lane truly was happier than she’d ever been in her life. And Charles Cromwell most assuredly had noticed. That was made very clear to Lane when one day, during the winter break of her seventh year, Charles asked to speak to Lane privately in his study.

Charles’s study was a room no Cromwell child ever liked visiting. From the time they were very small, it was a place they were expected to stay away from, whenever the door was closed -- it meant that their father was busy, whether because he was speaking privately to some Ministry official he’d invited over or because he was speaking privately to one of them. And you did not interrupt Charles Cromwell when he was speaking to one of his children. No matter what you might hear -- no matter how much crying or pleading, no matter what kind of sounds might echo from behind that door, you never interrupted. You never tried to intervene. After all, it was just about always just a simple talk -- Charles never raised a hand or wand against his children, unless they really made him. And there was no reason for anyone to cry about something as normal as a talk with one’s father...

Lane’s hands were freezing cold at her sides as she approached her father’s study. The door was open -- she could see Charles sitting at his desk, his reading glasses on as he consulted some papers. Before she could even think of speaking, Charles looked up, greeting her with a cold smile as he slid his glasses off with one hand.

“Lane, my dear. Come in and close the door.”

Lane glanced down at the doorknob under her hand. She did not want to do that. She didn’t like being in a room alone with her father -- she’d never liked it, especially when he was angry --

But she knew she had no choice. With a swallow, Lane very reluctantly did as she was told. She closed the door behind her and wordlessly approached her father’s desk.

Charles considered his third daughter for a very long moment. It was a detached, and yet thoroughly penetrating stare -- one that made Lane feel exposed beyond belief. Like every flit of his eyes along her lightly freckled cheek and long, loose blond hair was a needle poking at every tiny, seemingly most insignificant flaw. 

“You seem apprehensive, child,” said Charles. 

His voice should’ve been concerned, and yet, for some reason, it didn’t sound that way, to Lane. Instead it sounded perfunctory -- rehearsed, somehow. 

“I’m sorry,” Lane mumbled at once. 

Judy’s father’s warm, reassuring face rippled over her memory. 

“Oh, now, don’t fret -- we won’t bite you. Go ahead, take off your coat -- ”

Charles’s eyebrows seemed to twitch. Lane felt her heart skip a beat anxiously. 

“I...I just...I hope I haven’t upset you,” she said very quickly. Her voice was a frail, breathy shadow of what her siblings’ were, even more so due to the slight strain that came from her nerves. “I’ve been studying very hard -- I’ll make sure to pass all my NEWTs...”

Charles didn’t respond to Lane’s nerves. Instead he merely gave a very slow nod of muted approval.

“As is proper. With a brain like yours, I would expect nothing less.”

Lane attempted a weak smile. “...Th-thank you, Father.”

Charles, however, did not smile in return. He merely watched her, his bue eyes boring into her with singular focus. Lane could feel a cold chill running along the back of her head, almost like a claw -- it made her stiffen despite herself. 

“I’ve summoned you here so that we may discuss your future,” Charles said airily. 

Lane faltered. “...My future?”

“Yes. After your schooling has ended. Surely you’ve considered it -- how you intend to be useful to the Cromwell Clan?”

The claw seemed to scratch at the inside of her brain. Lane flinched. 

“...I...I did, yes,” said Lane meekly. 

Memories of her Career Advice session with her Head of House flitted over her mind. Pleasant conversation by a sunny window, alongside a cup of tea and some fairy cakes --

Lane suddenly felt like the claw poke a single, sharp nail right into her brain. She gave a soft cry as it scraped across her skull, dragging that memory up to the forefront of her mind --

“It’s your life, Miss Cromwell -- may as well live it! So? What is it that you want to do?”

“...I...I want to be a Historian. Like Bathilda Bagshot. I want to travel, and study dig sites...maybe even write a book, someday -- ”

“If that’s what you want to do, then I say you should do it! And don’t you let anyone tell you otherwise -- ”

“A Magical Historian?” Charles’s low Bass tone seemed to echo through Lane’s brain, warping the memory she’d been forced to relive. 

Lane felt like her head had been roughly thrown backward. She choked, blinking back tears as she tried to orient herself. The room was spinning...

“Lane, my dear, I’m disappointed,” Charles pressed on as if nothing had happened. “Magical Historians have always been severely undervalued, from an economic standpoint -- why, even Bathilda Bagshot herself only just barely stays afloat, on the back of her book sales. You know full well you can’t support a husband and children of your own, with so pitiful a salary.”

Lane swallowed, trying to catch her breath. 

“Yes, but...won’t it be all right, for a little while?” she said timidly. “At least...while I’m unmarried? Mother said I’d stay at home, a-after graduation...a-at least until then...so I won’t need to find a home, just yet. I...I could save up whatever I don’t spend on food and necessities -- ”

“That won’t be necessary,” Charles cut her off. “I’ve already made arrangements to ensure you’ll be well-provided for.”

Lane’s shoulders tensed. 

“...What arrangements?” she said very softly. 

Charles offered Lane a very cold smile. “Come now, Lane, my dear...what other kind of arrangements could I mean? You’ve grown into a very pretty, well-read, obedient young lady -- it’s high time that we capitalize on those favorable qualities, while your bloom is still new.”

“But -- but I thought that Pearl and Claire would -- ”

Lane’s voice was naturally so quiet and insubstantial that Charles was able to talk over her without even having to raise his voice. 

“Your lack of enthusiasm during our most recent gathering was rather troublesome, for your mother. Fortunately I’ve been in contact with Elias Urquart, and he believes his son Claude would do very well in the company of a quiet, patient young lady like you...”

“F-Father -- ”

Lane felt the claw sinking its claws into her head again, latching onto the fear in her brain. She gave a weak cry as that ball of fear inside of her was seemingly slammed down into her throat, forcing her into choked, suffocated silence. 

“And I must agree,” said Charles, seemingly not even noticing his daughter’s distress. “Why, a lady so soft-spoken and frail as you needs a proper husband to provide for her, if she’s going to make it in a cut-throat world like this. And with Claude’s wealth and the size of his family’s estate, you would be able to raise quite a respectable family, there. A son or two -- a daughter, perhaps. All within a stone’s throw of Cromwell Manor, as well. Your mother and I will never be far away...”

Fear. All Lane could feel was fear. Over her eyes, she could see Cromwell Manor -- the endless halls, lonely and dark -- the dining hall, underscored by Marilyn’s digs at her posture and table manners -- the windows never touched by frost or rain -- 

No -- no -- 

Lane felt her knees give way, but it was like she couldn’t even feel the floor. Both it and the room she’d been in were invisible to her eyes, through the pain in her mind. 

Locked doors. Barred windows and high hedges. Those would be her future, for the rest of her life. The thought made her intestines snake out around her nauseously pumping heart and stomach and squeeze. In her mind, she was back in her room right after her first year, miserably peeking out through that tiny window in a vain attempt to see the sky -- missing Judy and Simon and Carol -- all of her professors -- Evan -- Evan, oh, Evan -- me, married, Evan --

Then, all at once, the fear suffocating her throat seemed to slowly dissipate. 

Lane gasped for air. Her knees were throbbing with pain from the impact with the floor -- her hair was wet with sweat and her pale hands clutching the carpet were trembling. She tried to take several deep breathes, even as her father’s shadow engulfed her.

“Lane,” he said in a strange, almost paternal manner. “My poor child...there’s no need to be frightened...”

Lane felt her father bring his hands under her arms and gently hoist her up as if she were a child. She blinked up at him, trying to see through the teary blur that had overtaken her vision. 

When she made direct eye contact with Charles, however, she instantly knew she’d made a mistake. 

At once, the claw had seized hold of her brain again, making her crumple up in her father’s arms. Her frail voice came out in a weak, pitiful scream, more akin to a badly wounded animal, as the claw tore into her mind with force.

“Who is he, Lane?” her father’s voice rumbled through her head like some kind of distant thunder.

Lane could see Professor Slughorn, in her mind -- Professor Dumbledore --  Judy’s and her father Roy’s smiling faces --

Her father was searching. He was searching for him. 

Evan’s silhouette in the diner, by the jukebox, was brought to the front of her mind -- he’d be turning around any moment -- introducing himself -- 

No! 

Lane shoved Evan to the back of her mind. The claw seemed to dig in further, shoving things crassly aside trying to get to the memory, but Lane tried to push it back.

No -- no, you can’t have him!

“Who is he, Lane?” Charles’s voice rumbled more forebodingly than ever.

No!

The claw slammed down into her brain with the force of knives. Lane could hear her own screams echoing endlessly in her ears. Still, however terrified she was and however numb with pain her body was, she still weakly tried to keep Evan obscured.

Don’t think of his face -- don’t let Father hear him say his name --

Lane had read about Legilimency in the Library. Sure, none of the books gave much guidance about how it worked or how to prevent it, but she still immediately knew that that had to be how her father was so able to see through her and her siblings, when they were young. That had to be how he was able to hurt them like this, without ever raising his wand. 

Legilimency is a magic that allows a magic user to view someone else’s thoughts or memories. 

That was what the book had said. And so that is what Lane focused on -- however much Charles tried to shove the thought and memory aside to reach Evan, Lane desperately tried to stay locked on the memory of reading that book, while kicking and writhing to try to get out of her father’s arms --

You can’t have him -- you can’t hurt him -- 

Evan’s hand, holding hers -- no, not his face -- “your parents -- they shouldn’t say stuff like that to you” -- his comforting smile -- “I’d look after you -- I mean -- ”

Lane felt both the claw and her father throw her roughly to the floor. She collided with the side table, making the glass lamp on it smash on top of her with a loud CRASH, before she crumpled to the floor, shaking and breathing heavily as she blinked back both tears and blood. The glass must’ve collided with her head...

“So it seems you’ve read up on my particular talent,” Charles murmured. “I must wonder if Blaise prompted that...”

He bent down beside Lane. Rather than help her up, however, the head of the Cromwell Clan merely looked down at her with such an emotionless, uncaring look that he resembled one of the china dolls Lane had seen in Judy’s room at her house. 

“I do not know who that boy is,” he said, his Bass voice so low and hushed with displeasure, it was like a demon bitterly whispering his terms to his latest target, “but you will discard him immediately, or else I shall have to make pointed inquiries to Hogwarts’s school governors, regarding his identity. We don’t need you getting distracted, do we?”

Charles’s voice grew darker still as he leaned his hand on the floor right beside Lane’s head. 

“Never forget that your life -- your future -- everything you are and ever will be -- has been written to serve the Clan’s interests. My interests. It is I who has paid for your home, comfort, and safety -- the clothes you wear and the food you eat -- and it is I whom you shall have to pay that back for, with interest. I wished to be generous -- allowing you the freedom to be a bit more selfish at school, if just for a short while...but sadly, the clock has run out, and playtime is over. It’s high time that you grow up and accept your duty as a member of the Cromwell Clan. Your duty to your father and leader.”

Charles’s almond-shaped blue eyes grew a little smaller.

“Have I made myself clear?”

Lane’s face had lost all its color. Her long blond hair fell into her face as she crumpled up on the floor, bowing her head.

“...Yes, sir,” she whispered.

Charles seemed to relax a bit. Lane could hear the floor creak a bit under him as he got up off the floor. 

“Good,” he said, his curt voice feigning gentility again. “Now then -- go clean yourself up and get ready for supper. Your mother plans to serve a lovely roast goose.”

Lane heard the door of Charles’s office open and -- without seemingly any hesitation -- his footsteps down the hall.

Lane remained still on the floor, bleeding and weak, for what felt like ages. When the clock chimed the hour, though, she knew it was in truth only about fifteen minutes. 

It was right as the clock chimed that Lane felt someone hoist her up off the floor.

“Lane,” she heard Pearl sigh in aggravation, “why do you always have to be such a thorn in our sides...?”

Despite muttering this, her older sister nonetheless hoisted Lane up onto her back and carried her to her room. 

Lane didn’t speak at all while Pearl carried her -- her older sister likewise didn’t say anything to her, though she did have to fend off Blaise at one point, when he saw Lane on her back.

“You need to support her head better!” Blaise said, his petulant voice nonetheless betraying some genuine upset. “See, you’re getting her blood on your shoulder -- ”

“I’ll clean up her mess myself, thank you,” Pearl spat at her youngest sibling. “That’s what I always have to do, for you lot -- ”

“You?” Blaise shot back vindictively. The last Cromwell sibling, Claire, stayed off to the side, timidly watching, as Blaise tried and failed to yank Lane out of Pearl’s arms. “Please! You don’t know the first thing about taking care of someone -- all you ever do is tell us to shut up and stop complaining -- ”

“Maybe if you did shut your trap and stop whining, I wouldn’t have to say it so much!” snapped Pearl. 

With a not-so-pleasant kick, she forced Blaise back away enough to reach Lane’s bedroom door, which she lightly kicked open and then slammed behind her. She then dropped her sister down on the bed like dead weight.

“Mother and Father still expect you on time for supper,” Pearl said harshly as she turned to the door. “Keep your mouth shut and your head down until it’s over, and maybe Father won’t see the need to do anything else.”

With this, she opened the door again and shut it firmly behind her. Lane could hear her shooing Blaise and Claire away outside the door -- Blaise was taking it much less well than Claire did, since Lane could hear him obnoxiously arguing the point as their voices faded away down the hall.

Very weakly Lane tried to pick herself up off the mattress. She only managed to hoist herself up enough to lean against the wall under her window -- but it was as she leaned back, her blond hair sliding out of her face again at last, that her pale face was fully visible once again.

And anyone who could’ve seen Lane’s face would’ve known...that face was not that of someone who had decided to surrender.

Lane knew there was only one way in or out of Cromwell Manor -- through Charles’s fireplace, which he would never let her near in a million years, especially now that she’d managed to hide Evan’s identity from him. But Lane would have to return to Hogwarts, in order to graduate -- she was much less valuable to him, if she didn’t. That had to be why he had made these marriage arrangements so abruptly and why he’d called her into his office to tell her about them. He wanted to make sure she knew she was trapped -- alone, penniless, and powerless -- that he still had control over her life, and that he would keep that control for the rest of his. 

But even with this...while she was at Hogwarts, Charles could not access her. He could not monitor or guard her or read her thoughts. Most important of all, while she was there, he could not stop her from making her own choices. 

And after Hogwarts, Lane decided...after she was a legal adult, with her education complete...he never would again. After graduation, she would steal a chance of freedom for herself, and leave Charles Cromwell and his Clan behind her, once and for all. 

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Archived announcement of the Music Tapes' 2010 Holiday Lullabye Extravaganza tour. Merge Records, 7th October 2010

The Music Tapes bring dreamlike slumberal enchantments to houses across the land this fall!

October 7, 2010 – 3:40 pm

This November and December, The Music Tapes will be bringing a comforting, enchanting, and very special evening of Music Tapes’ dreamlike songs, stories and games for sleepover parties to ordinary homes across the land (US and Canada).  The Music Tapes are now accepting invitations, and plan to visit nearly 200 homes! As with the Music Tapes’ caroling and lullaby travels of years past, they will stop at several houses a night in each city visiting also far off out of the way places most tours never get to go.

The Music Tapes’ Julian Koster says,”These sorts of trips are the most adventurous and exciting musical travels I have ever been a part of. There’s a special magic possible that could only happen in them. There is a warmth and kindness and adventurousness of the people inviting us and all of their friends that leads always to extraordinary and fun times that are unlike anything else we’ve ever experienced before.”

To invite The Music Tapes to share their magic with you and your friend, simply send an invitation to:  lullabyedeliveries@gmail.com. Or (even better) a letter to: The Minister of Lullabies at 450 N Harris St, Athens, GA 30601 (letters must be received by October 20th and include all contact information.) The invitations of greatest warmth will be chosen in each area in the order in which they are received. Houses open to welcoming other fans in the area to view the performance will be given special priority. The location and time of your visit will be kept secret.

If your invitation is chosen, simply plan your own sleepover or holiday gathering, and you will be given a range of times in which The Music Tapes will arrive and fill your house for nearly an hour with songs, games, stories, and more. The merry band of travelers known as The Music Tapes will then leave you again with your friends, families, and dreams, and continue on to the next house on that night’s list. If you choose to make your house one of the “open” houses and welcome a limited number of other Music Tapes fans in your area, the time and address of your visit will still be kept secret, but be made available by email only to fans in your area (from lullabyedeliveries@gmail.com) once the tour begins.

The Lullaby evenings with include songs from the Music Tapes forthcoming 2011 record, as well as from Music Tapes for Clouds and Tornadoes, The 1st Imaginary Symphony for Nomad, and The Singing Saw at Christmastime, along with new Music Tapes games and stories. The entertainment, though sometimes more exciting than lulling, are all in honor of the comforting moments directly preceding and following sleep when we find ourselves happily unsure of whether we are awake or are dreaming.

“Each stop is completely unique because it’s as much about the world of the people who’ve invited us as it is about the world we are bringing them,” continues Julian. “It becomes very surreal in the most wonderful way, and it is a great privilege getting to spend my life getting to go on trips like this.”

For more information, write lullabyedeliveries@gmail.com to receive an automatic reply and as always visit The Music Tapes’ online home at orbitinghumancircus.com.

Proposed Path and Dates: November 2nd, 3rd and 4th: Alabama; Tennessee; Florida Panhandle; and SE Louisiana November 5th, 6th and 7th: Western Louisiana; Texas November 8th, 9th, 10th: New Mexico; Arizona; Nevada November 11th, 12th, 13th: Southern; and Central California November 14th, 15th, 16th: Central California; and Oregon November 17th, 18th, and 19th: Washington; and British Columbia, Canada November 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd: Idaho; Utah; and Colorado November 24th, 25th, and 26th: Denver, Colorado; Nebraska; Minnesota November 27th, 28th, 29th: Illinois; Michigan; and Northern Ohio November 30th, December 1st, and 2nd: Western Pennsylvania; Western NY; Toronto, Ontario Canada December 3rd, 4th, and 5th: Montreal, QC Canada; Vermont; Western Massachusetts December 6th, 7th and 8th: Upstate New York; NYC December 9th, 10th, and 11th: Maryland; Washington, DC; Virginia; Delaware December 12th, 13th, 14th and 15th: Asheville, NC; Atlanta, GA; Athens, GA

[darius-dues]

November 15 – NPC Playlist

Caleb Belos was the previous Golden Guard for Emperor Belos on the Boiling Isles, as well as Darius's mentor. He allowed Darius to stay with him while growing up, and helped him navigate and climb the ladders of the coven system. However, one day, Caleb disappeared. According to Belos, he simply retired and moved away, but Darius is not so sure. What might have he discovered, and what happened to him because of it?

Sleep Alone by Two Door Cinema Club

He sleeps alone He needs no army where he's headed 'Cause he knows That they're just ghosts And they can't hurt him if he can't see them, oh

As the Golden Guard, Caleb was often tasked with hunting wildlife to gather materials for Belos's needs. While he grew numb to the killings, they never left him entirely. He was haunted over many years, especially in his dreams. He continued to tell himself he did what he needed to for the Emperor, and didn't look too deeply. For a time.

2. The View by Modest Mouse

As life gets longer, awful feels softer. Well it feels pretty soft to me. And if it takes shit to make bliss, Then I feel pretty blissfully.

Much like Hunter, Caleb started his position in his adolescence. The story of a young child being taken in by their powerful relative would become the story of the Golden Guard. It was even the story that he would repeat with Darius. But unlike others, Caleb was one of the longest serving Golden Guards, a position that he held for decades. Time wore on him and over the years he lost his illustrious shine and hopefulness in the system.

3. No Lullaby by Siames

What's the meaning when you have a broken home, home, home? Where's the love when you were left on your own? So alone

Caleb does not remember much of his life before Belos. But his home must have been broken for the Emperor to "save" him, right? When he found Darius in a similar situation, alone and in need, he knew he had to step in and support the young sorcerer. In each other, they found a home and a family that their biology had not been able to provide.

4. Oh Klahoma by Jack Stauber

Tears falling down at the party Saddest little baby in the room Fears, tell me fears, don't get me started I get a little gray hair for every scare you share

That being said, raising an adolescent when you have no experience with children is not easy. Caleb and Darius butt heads a lot, especially with the latter's teen dramatics, of which there were plenty. It was a bit of a mad house at times, but Caleb would have it no other way.

5. Sing for Absolution by Muse

There's nowhere left to hide In no one to confide The truth burns deep inside And will never die

Caleb's position often left him deeply isolated. Any conflicting feelings he had he could never speak of to anyone, not even Darius. He yearned for absolution, but was never able to find it.

6. The (Shipped) Gold Standard by Fall Out Boy

Sometimes I wanna quit this all and become an accountant now But I'm no good at math and besides, the dollar is down Plant palm trees on Lake Michigan before it gets cold I gotta feel the wind chill again before I get old I wanna scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs But I'm afraid that someone else will hear me

There were times--times that Caleb was deeply ashamed of--where he would imagine starting over in a new place. Somewhere without magic, without politics, without the eyes of the Emperor on them. He wanted to bring Darius, and shield him from his own ambitions within the coven system, but he knew the boy would never stray from his dreams. Caleb loved Darius more than he was willing to acknowledge even to himself, and it kept him in a situation that would ultimately consume him.

7. Wake Up by Arcade Fire

Now that I'm older My heart's colder And I can see that it's a lie Children, wake up Hold your mistake up Before they turn the summer into dust

We're definitely starting to repeat some themes here, but over time, Caleb realized something was not right. He tried as best he could to convey this to Darius, without putting him in harms way. He would never know if or how his hinting ever got through to his protege.

8. I Can't Stay by The Killers

The emotion, it was electric And the stars, they all aligned I knew I had to make my decision But I never made the time No, I never made the time

Over time, Caleb began to look deeper. He knew he shouldn't. He knew it was dangerous. But he couldn't keep living his life like he was. There was some point where he knew his time with Darius was coming to an end. There were many regrets, especially not being able to voice what he was going through, but he made the most out of the time he thought he had left.

9. How Far We've Come by Matchbox Twenty

I'm waking up at the start of the end of the world, But its feeling just like every other morning before, Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone, The cars are moving like a half a mile an hour And I started staring at the passengers who're waving goodbye Can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?

And then, it broke. Caleb looked too deeply and discovered something he shouldn't have. What happened for certain we may someday never know, but those last moments with Belos were intense.

10. Tomcat Disposables by Will Wood

Spring bloomed in the kitchen again So I crawled out of the wall and squinting Saw hope on the stovetop Just like I'd always imagined it More than I could eat My dreams were finally reality My struggles had a happy ending They must want to be friends

A song about a mouse that struggles to survive and dreams of a life of ease. When that finally seems to be coming true, the promised food is poisoned, betrayed by the creatures who he lived alongside. In many ways, this is Caleb's "retirement".

[all-the-little-things91]

The First Chapter

I spent the first eight years living a very different life to the one I eventually came to love in America. As a carefree kid, growing up in the country that gave birth to me was everything I could have wanted and more. As far back as I can remember, I knew that my fellow countrymen were given a special gift by being born of the land where, if you were hungry, you could pick fruit from your neighbor’s fruit tree and be fed.

A land where you were never cold because there were no winters, there were only two climates, hot and rainy. A kid could play her days away, dreaming of life and a country that she had yet to know firsthand, but her innermost thoughts are for this country where her loved ones keep leaving her to travel to.

Her favorite and beloved uncle has left her to go and seek his fortune because the people of her first country believe that this mysterious place, this beacon on a shining hill, has milk and honey flowing in the streets. One must reach out and catch some of their own to live like a king or a queen.

Now, the intrusive thoughts in this little girl’s head are stuck on repeat. This is an unexpected amendment to her life story. She replays the newly formed memory as she lays on the bench on her porch because it is too hot to play in the summer sun today. She's in the living room with some of her extended family. There are cousins everywhere! This is movie night, and because not everyone in her extended family has a TV of their own, her house is full of people, laughing, talking, and eating, but hardly doing the thing that they were gathered in her home to do, which is watch the movie, oh well! It was a boring movie anyway.

The phone rings, and her mother answers. She can hear happiness in her mother's voice and see the joy that overtakes her mother's face. It was a brief call, and after her mother hangs up the phone, she spun around to find her daughter's curious face staring at her. Her mother shouts excitedly to tell her they are some of the lucky ones. We are going to a new home; her mother says as she hugs her, overjoyed with happiness. That wonderful, magical country that she knew only through television. America is a land of plenty and a home of easy living, she thought. At least, that's what all the TV shows she watched led her to believe. Life was great!

America is their new destination. My mother answered the call about us getting approved for our visas to visit America. This memory swims in the little girl's head, making her slightly dizzy with excitement and possibility but, most of all, hope. She hopes that her new life in America will be as good as the one she has now, and hey, if she becomes a princess or a queen along the way, could that be so bad? Did she dream of this very thing happening? Yes! Did she wish and hope for it? Yes!

She heard from her mother that this transition would be hard and life would never be the same, but she did not pay attention to any of the warnings. This new adventure was to be the most significant chapter in her life. The little girl did not care that they were leaving the only home she had known thus far. Or that she was unfamiliar with her relatives in America except her favorite uncle. A new family just meant new friends. She just knew that life was going to be good, so nothing else mattered. To know this story is to know her story, too. She was going to be one of the lucky ones who got to travel across the ocean and become an American. Nothing could dampen her happiness as it soared to new heights.

There were only a few months left in her homeland, and they flew by; with all that had to be done to prepare to start a new life in a different country with her two daughters, the little girl’s mother was busy. Caught up in the preparations, she forgot to check in with the little girl to see if everything was fine. Had she done this, then the mother would have found out that despite her happiness, there was creeping fear and trepidation in the little girl's heart because she now realized that her life was never going to be the same.

[piratadelamor]

its always like this. i wanna make a family bc i want a second chance to live things my family couldnt give me first

[dreamofjoys]

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟒 ‒ 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 , 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

scenario: lilia loves you. he dreams of starting a family with you, fantasizing about your belly that would be swollen with his kids. that dream soon turned into a nightmare when your family wed you to a wealthy man for the sake of politics. things became even more worst for lilia when he heard that you were pregnant. honestly, the war general should have taken you away from everyone at the beginning. now is not too late, right?

tw: cheating (reader cheats on husband), breastfeeding (to the baby but lilia is gonna suck on ur nipples so…), thigh grinding, mentions of pregnancy, reader abandons her baby

back to kinktober's 2022 masterlist

“shhhhhh, mummy is here. drink up, little one.” you cooed to the small bundle in your arms, bringing them close to your chest area as you breastfeed them.

it has only been a week since you gave birth to a baby girl, and the little one never fails to cry every night for milk. your newly wed husband doesn’t care, he only bother to settle the financial affair within the house, leaving all the other household workload to you.

your baby girl latches her lips onto your nipples, feeding herself to her heart's content with your breastmilk. you sighed, cradling her head closer to your chest as you thought about your new future.

your parents had decided to marry off to some wealthy men for the sake of politics. your husband is rich and provides every necessities for the family. however, he does not care about your mental well being. the only reason why the both of you had a child is because he wants other people to think that the both of you are happily in love with each other, which was false.

instead of falling in love with your husband, you had fell for a certain fae from briar valley. you could still remember how his lips would linger on your skin, whispering to your ears about the future he dream of having with you.

when your baby girl was done drinking, you placed her back to her crib, watching her small eyes closing and drifting into slumber. just as you are about to wear your bra again, a figure had appeared behind you, engulfing you into a hug as they lay their head on your back, basking in your scent and warmth.

"li-lilia?"

the fae hm in respond, hands travelling up to grope your breast as your shoulders relaxed, back onto him comfortably. "can we talk somewhere? my baby is asleep." magic gathers in the air, teleporting the both of you to one of the private guest room in the mansion.

before you knew it, you were pinned to the bed as lilia places one of his leg in between yours. his knee was rubbing onto your clothed sex as he stares at you with his deep ruby eyes.

"why?" lilia questioned, a sign of hurt flashes across his eyes. you turned your head away, a sign of guilt that you have been holding in for a long time.

"my parents forced me into this marriage. i don't love him at all, and neither does he. im sorry, lilia. i love you, and i still do. i know you won't forgive me but-" lilia shuts you up with a kiss. his lips melt onto yours, instantly reminding you of how many times the both of you had exchange kisses under the stars, promising to be together forever.

lilia breaks the kiss, lips wet from your saliva. "come with me, y/n." he said. "leave everything behind. come to briar valley, i will protect you. your family and that man won't be able to touch you. let me be your husband, and lets have kids of our own."

he lowers his head to your chest, giving your right nipple a kiss before fully devouring it into his mouth. lilia makes sure to swirl his tongue over your nipples, giving it kitten licks before sucking it like a newborn baby, drinking your leftover breastmilk. his left hand plays with your left nipple, occasionally flicking on it and giving your breast a huge squeeze, making the milk that was stored inside of your left breast to leak out.

lilia smiles when he could hear you moaning. you were subconsciously grinding your clothed sex onto his thigh, hands shooting forward to grip onto lilia's hair to pull him closer.

"lilia, more, please."

"of course, anything for you my dear."

it's quite safe to say that the both of you had a heated night and lilia had made sure to plant a baby inside you before the both of you depart for your humble home.

[cursedcola]

Synopsis: Years have passed since your homecoming to Earth. Your 'time' concluded and farewell inevitable at the hands of fate. After concluding their years at NRC, Wonderland's finest take it upon themselves to transcend dimensions and find the person who left without so much as a farewell. The catch is, they have no idea where you are, what this universe is like, and have to make a life for themselves in the meantime. How would they adapt to life on earth? Characters: Everyone. Mix of Sentient AU! and Modern AU! Warnings: None lol. This is for my own enjoyment! Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasmonia You are here!: Scarabia! Disclaimer: I did a bit of research on brazilin culture, geography, etc. for this! I have not been to Brazil, and did my best to read up in order to develop a basic level of understanding for my writing. If anything is wrong or inaccurate, please let me know! I will likely be doing research for the rest of these posts as well.

Nothing could have prepared the students of NRC for what lied beyond the mirror. A world unlike any of them ever known with magic being virtually non-existent ( or so it appears to the general public). With nothing but the clothes on their backs, falsified basic identification, personal items, and the small bits of knowledge gathered from you; these young adults have one mission - find the dimension hopping prefect, and try to stay out of prison. It was time to split up, cover as much ground as possible, and make a life in this unfamiliar reality.

Let us see how these fresh minds conform to 'Life on Earth' !

Scarabia Residence: Brazil

Kalim Al-Asim

Location: Brasilia, Brasil.

Kalim is living in the lap of luxury. He owns a four-bedroom condo in the heart of Brazil's capital and it is nothing to turn a blind eye towards. Each room is decorated to the nines with each statement piece picked out by Kalim himself on whim. Some are specially imported (he has a tiny online shopping addiction) and others are items he instantly took to when shopping the street markets.

The place is decorated like an everlasting sunset. Jewel-encrusted tapestries hang from every wall, and the windows are stained-glass which carry a beautiful glow into the open-layout of the condo. It is most definetly a pent-house so the view is spectacular. He has anything one could ever want, from a velvet couch, marble fireplace, all the way to a refrigerator with more functions than you can think of. Not to mention the golden chandelier hanging in the dining area, yeesh

Now one has to wonder, where does Kalim get the money for all of this?

Occupation: Stock Trade and Entrepreneur

Kalim has succeeded in what every freshmen studying buisness has dreamed of at least once. The man has money, and he makes it in his sleep. Literally.

When Kalim arrived on earth he did so with a large sum of money in his bag. Enough to sustain himself and Jamil for three lifetimes. He wanted enough money to travel everywhere, and spoil you rotten. He was going to buy anything you could ever want, and then buy more. All to bring it back home so you will not have any reason to come back. (and if you had family? Friends? He was going to show them that you were in good care, and leave them with enough money that you won't worry about their well-being after leaving. Everything was going to be taken care of.)

But then he got word of the stock market. If there is one thing Kalim knows it is money and he easily climbed that corporate chain. At first it was for fun, but as time went on he somehow became one of the most respected people in the world. Since he started off with so much, it only grew and he began putting the assets into funding charities, research, and other causes that he believed in. Not only was he respected, but his goodhearted nature earned him many friends. Especially since he has a knack Jamil to tell if someone has good intentions or not.

Kalim took to brazilin culture very quickly. He himself is a very lively and passionate person so it was not difficult to adjust to that type of life. He often goes "under-cover," in horribly obvious disguises when there are festivals or celebrations that he wants to attend.

This sunshine can dance, let me tell ya. He can shake it 'till the crack of dawn and still keep going. Like a kid, he'll stop quickly to shovel some food down his throat (that Jamil packed for him because Kalim is Kalim) and then he'll be right back at it.

Obviously, everyone knows that it's him. A few glasses of wine and he's stripping off his disguise to have more freedom. Honestly? It gives Jamil a headache because someone out there could kidnap him and then Kalim would be screwed. Even in this life Jamil has to act as his babysitter.

Though...is it too optimistic to say that this would never happen? At least in the homely local areas that Kalim frequents? I am dead serious when I say that he'll go to the market and buy out a few stalls of their supplies that day. Or at least half of it. Just so he can contribute to the community's economy. If he doesn't need what he bought (say he purchased a ton of food) then he donates it to the homeless, etc.

He is safer in those areas than his own home and knows it. Which is probably why he's so willing to let loose.

Moving on, Kalim dresses just as extravagantly as he lives. Silk is his best friend, and he loves jewelry. Loves, loves, loves it. If it glitters, it is Kalim's.

He owns a bedazzle gun. Enough said.

He loves the sports on earth as well. Especially (soccer/football). He loves how passionate people can get over their teams, and gets absolutely hyped when throwing a viewing party. He'll invite anyone willing to come watch the game with him (and gets Jamil's seal of approval to be in their home)

The people would expect a man of this caliber to be taken, yet the media can't catch wind of a single partner. Not even a one-night stand. He never has arm-candy when attending events, and every attempt at flirting with him is a surefire failure

Why is this? Because he is looking for someone very special. He says this to the press every. single. time. and they have no choice but to believe him because there is no hidden agenda to be found

All he has is a name, and a description of emotions and memories that are too vague to put to a face. Any normal person would think him delusional-

Except for anyone that catches him off the camera. Those days when he's danced his feet into the ground, drank enough to fog his brain, and is pouring his heart out to whatever band is unfortunate enough to have been playing that night. Eventually Jamil will drag him home, and he'll go to bed crying over the mysterious person no one seems to know

Jamil Viper

Location: Brasilia, Brazil

And they were roommates

Jamil lives in Kalim's extravagant condo. Why would he go waste money renting somewhere else when he has babysitting duty 24/7? If he didn't live with Kalim, then who knows what state the place would be in. Jamil cooks, cleans, and essentially does everything for the house. He's the one stuck answering the buzzer for all of Kalim's late-night spending spree deliveries. Not only that, but he is on bouncer duty and performing background checks on everyone going in and out.

Kalim sweetie please cut this man some slack. He needs a bReAk

In all honesty, he dislikes the way Kalim has decorated the place. It is all very pretty but extremely unnecessary. He does not trust hiring a maid simply from how fragile everything is. Kalim tries often to buy Jamil decorations for his bedroom, and Jamil declines every time.

His bedroom is spacious enough to double as a living area. He also has his own personal washroom. The space is full of cool tones. Black, grey, golden yellow, and touches of burgundy. A complete contrast to the rest of the condo. He has multiple bookshelves aligning the walls, a corner dedicated to exercise equipment, a queen-sized bed with many quilts and decorative pillows, and a loveseat. There is always incense burning in his room and he has a large, "No Kalim Allowed," sign hanging outside of his door

Why? Because Jamil has taken to collecting weapons :)

He has many defense weapons hidden throughout his room. From needles, to daggers, to poisons, etc. His room is the storehouse for all of the condo's defense mechanisms. Jamil has also placed extra security cameras in the public living spaces and outside the door. Just to be safe.

Occupation: Administrative Assistant

Jamil is Kalim's assistant. He handles most of the paperwork, scheduling, etc. when it comes to their little buisness. He has no reason to find work elsewhere, right?

No. Jamil actually runs a traveling food stall. Depending on where the duo is, he'll manage to obtain permission to open up a stall in the local area for the duration of their visit. He'll serve renditions of food from his homeland, as well as spins on the local cuisine. One thing Jamil loves about earth is the new flavors and spices that he gets to work with when cooking!

The stall gives him the opportunity to talk with locals, and keep an eye on Kalim while doing so. How else is he supposed to make sure Kalim makes it home while still staying productive?

He also gets to ask questions. Like a random survey, as people wait for their food to cook he'll make idle chatter about recent gossip. He'll always slip in questions that may lead to your whereabouts, asking if there are any (Y/N)'s in the area etc.

In truth, he hopes one day you'll miraculously turn up. Either recognizing him or being drawn in by the scent of his cooking.

Another thing Jamil loves is the music. If Kalim can shake his fanny, then Jamil can pick up routines as easy as breathing! He likes to get a feel for the culture, and lives a small 'double life' where he gets to have fun.

Man can Samba. His hips do not lie. Shakira, Shakira

Something screams at this man when it comes to fashion. Like Kalim, he likes to go a bit extra. He simply goes in the opposite direction of Kalim and takes to street-fashion. He picks up pieces as he sees them, and files through local businesses like it's no one's buisness.

He is also one of those people who collects sneakers. He has some for fashion, but mainly likes to have many pairs for dancing and travel. He likes to hike, and the hot weather does not bother him one bit.

When traveling, Jamil picks up two mementos from each place he visits. One is for his sister, and the other is for you. This is another reason why Kalim is not allowed in his room. He has them tucked away somewhere safe, but since he constantly lectures his friend on being more frugal it would not be good if he saw the growing stash. It started off with small trinkets here and there, but now the pile is massive.

Jamil is excited to show it to you. He wants to demonstrate just how far his search has taken him, and how much of a pain in the ass it was to find you.

Yet, his chest grows cold every time he tosses a new item in with the collection. It's a reminder of his failure, and how another day has passed without you by his side.

[neovisioned]

♡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 !”