#they are reflections of each other (ಥ﹏ಥ)

[wordswhisperinthedark]

the video buffered at the perfect time and now I'm sad

[plush-rabbit]

Faded Vermillion

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I hope I did this well! I think I've only written for Hawks like a handful of times- two of which I like while the others I’m like ahh,,, words so I hope you enjoy this! (Hawks is super interesting but Twice(ಥ﹏ಥ))

Keigo has eyes closed and the room is scented in mahogany, deep and musky that fills his senses and makes his head hurt. It’s heavy and strong, makes his eyes burn and even long after the candle has been snuffed out. The smoke once thick had waved across the room and now it has thinned and now a faint scent of the past lingers.

You’ve been growing more agitated, cracking at your knuckles, flapping your hands side to side with a grimace on your face, rolling your shoulders constantly, hissing when the stutter and pull, the muscles tight and painful from hours hunched over doing who knows what. You don’t seem to tell him- you’re quieter around him, biting your bottom lip and tugging on your hair, keeping your lips sealed about your latest project. All he knows is that you need help carrying certain metals and shopping alone for other supplies. It goes on for many days, minutes bleeding into hours as he lays on the couch, resting on his stomach, chin tucked above his arms and he’s alone in the shared home, waiting for you to return.

There’s an ugly thought in Keigo’s mind- a thought that started off as something as a whisper but with each second spent away from you, it grows louder and louder, making him clamp his palms over his ears, feeling as if blood will pool and seep between his fingers and he’s on the ground, kneeling and crying and alone. He’s alone and the thoughts keep screaming that you’re with someone else- that you aren’t with him because you’ve lost interest. He no longer has his wings; he can no longer protect you and he is no longer worthy of being loved by you.

He’s on the ground with aching knees, knees that dig into the floors and hurt him, hands that crush the sides of his head and he thinks he’s crying, that he’s close to it at least, and his back will twitch, muscles spasming and he’ll wait for the red curtain to fall, to conceal him and let him regain his composure but the cool air of the shared home still chills him, brushing lightly at his soft hair and he realizes that he’s out in the open. He’s kneeled on your kitchen floor, eyes that grow wide with frantic panic only to settle when he hears the door click open. And then the next thing he knows, he’s in your arms, hands rubbing under his shirt as you call out his name, as you whisper lovingly into his ear, “Keigo.”

“Keigo,” you whisper, rubbing your head along the side of his, “Keigo, what happened? Are you okay?”

He’s in your arms. You cradle him, peck under his eyes and he can feel your hands flutter where his wings used to be, where they would adorn him and flutter. He feels silly. He feels like a child whose toy was lost, the comfort object that was misplaced, stolen from his embrace and tossed into a crevice. But he isn’t a child. He’s a man who lost his quirk and feared that you would leave him. He nuzzles into your shoulder, letting his hands run over your back, down the space where his wings would be, between his shoulder blades and he presses his hands down, fingers kneading into the muscles that lay under your skin and clothes.

“You’ve been stressed lately,” he mutters, tilting his head and his lips brush over your neck, feeling the pulse quicken under his lips. “Working yourself down to the bone.” You snort and he smiles softly, gaze softening, brows furrowing into a pained expression. “You free tonight? I was thinking we could have a date night.” He shudders when your fingers graze against scarring that juts puts his blades, curving down his spine and leaving him in chills. “Here, obviously. I don’t-”

“I’d love to Keigo,” you whisper, pulling away from him, hands leaving the warmth of his back and coming to cradle his face. “Do you want to cook or-”

“Cook.” He smiles sweetly and pecks at your nose. “I’ve missed your cooking, you know.” He rises with a grunt, knees aching and legs heavy and extends a hand out to you, giving you a perfect grin, playful and overly sweet as you take his hand, wrapping your hand around his and stumbling into his chest when he pulls you up. “I’ll even help,” he coos, brows rising and grin widening into something that stretches too wide.

Your laugh is warm against him and he swallows nervously, his pulse quickening for a second until it’s controlled, and his arms wrap around you, tensing and squeezing your frame against him. “Okay,” you nod, your hands at his side. “Look and see what we have while I put my supplies away and then we can start cooking.” You pull away from him and his chest aches, lungs that have been stolen of all oxygen, and all he can do is smile. Your hands slide and pat him lovingly on the chest. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

-

Dinner is a mess. Or the attempt at dinner was a mess. He doesn’t know what happened. He doubts you do either. The smell of burnt food is in the air, the fire alarm still rings in his head and you’re on the couch, head in hands and back and chest heaving, and he can feel a pit in his stomach open and consume everything that he is.

You messed up. Left the food on for too long and now it burns and he stands alone in the kitchen. It was a simple mistake, one that you freaked out over. Once where your muscles tensed and jaw clenched and you let out a grunt and smacked your hand on the counter. You huffed and your face burned. He joked about it, trying to lighten the mood, but it came off flat, too forced and you picked up on it. He could hear the wheezing breaths that you made, the hands that twitched at your sides and eyes that began to turn glassy and he reached out to you, hand raised and then he felt it. A sharp pain that burned a hole in his scars, and spread outward, burning and tingling his skin, leaving him flinching and pressing his palm over the pink tinged scar, the fabric of his shirt scratching and prickling his skin. You stare at him with eyes that shine with fear, your breaths coming to a stop and then you left to sit on the couch and wallow in your shame.

He comes up to you with soft steps, hands fiddled and he sits next to you in silence. “The new project is certainly taking a toll, huh?” There’s no point to beat around the bush, to act coy until you decide to open up.

“It could be different reasons,” you say defiantly. He raises a thick brow and you’re quick to explain. “Long day. Long week. Bad day. Bad-”

“What’s the project?” He blinks slowly at the ground, letting his eyes come to a close. “I know you like things to be perfect but it’s giving you this much stress then-” He hears you take in a sharp breath and he stops talking.

“I’m making you new wings.” His heart stops, a quick second and his mind goes blank. He’s entirely numb, shoulder poised and his eyes are wide as they stare at you. “I-”

He shakes his head. “There’s no reason to-”

Your elbows rest on your thighs, hand knotted together where your chin rests and you stare at the dark screen, reflection peering into yours and your brows furrow, a frown tugging on your lips, mouth moving to form soundless words. “You miss your wings,” you voice softly. It isn’t a question; it’s a statement. One that you know well, one that is undoubtedly true. “I just-” you sniffle and he can’t look at you. “I just wanted to make you feel better but no matter what I did-” you take a deep breath and a shiver runs down his spine- “they always came out wrong,” you hiss. “They aren’t your wings. They’re like these awful-” your head tilts and lowers- “godforsaken replicas. They aren’t like yours.” He is unable to speak. His throat tightens and there’s a lump that makes it impossible to get a word out. “I just wanted to make you feel better but no matter how I look at them, they just aren’t yours.”

He licks at his lips, mouth parting open and closing, repeating the process but all it does is make him feel at a loss. Sad, golden eyes look at the floor, his hands in view with palms up and calloused fingers that curl and twitch involuntarily. He can’t deny your statement. He can’t even deny it to himself- he’s never dared to try, he just avoided it, did everything he could to take his mind off of his scarred back. He wished that he would start to bloom again, that feathers would appear and he would be able to take you flying again and hear the frightful, breathless laugh that filled the sky no matter how many times he took you for a ride.

“I do,” he admits and there’s a horrible gnawing at his throat to shut up, to close his mouth and just hold you- to say anything else as a distraction so he doesn’t have to face what he lost. He swallows the lump and he admits his truth. “I- I was wanted because of my quirk. I uh,” he chuckles and it comes out bitter, poison in his tongue that makes tears spring in his eyes, “I’m a- I was a dog on a leash. I- fuck,” he breathes out, laughing softly. “This is a lot harder than what I imagined. I uh,” he groans and he keeps his gaze fixated on the edge of a picture- one of you and him, vermillion serving as the background, solid and whole- he can feel a phantom flutter, ghosts of feathers that twitch and, that still stay still and hold their composure. “I don’t know how to word it,” he confesses, voice light and empty. “I just, I know that I miss my wings but-” his eyes dart to the screen where he sees you, faint trail marks- miniscule to the untrained eyes- decorate your face- “I’m not ready to talk about.” He watches as your shoulder slump in obvious disappointment. “Not now at least,” he says in a strained voice, “too fresh of a wound, you know.”

The emptiness is too much. He can’t say the words- even he hasn’t said them to himself. His back, once adorned by wings that were under his control, under a control where he was wanted, praised and molded, wings that had never belonged to him, wings that were sought after only to be controlled, have now been plucked. His back, once with vermillion wings that could touch the sun, have been ripped, they’ve been torn from his skin, burned and yanked, forced to their extent and he is now bare. His back is scarred, ornate scars that twist at the flesh, marking it in a lighter color, deepening his skin into a darker shade, scars that still burn with the pain, scars that sometimes make him forget that his wings are gone. He is bare. He misses his wings. He misses everything that came with them. The admiration, the love, the want. He is no longer wanted, thrown away like an old toy by the Commission. And he wants to tell you his fears. How he fears that one day you’ll cast him aside, how you’ll look at him and the hugs that hold him together will turn into a goodbye hug where he’ll have to see you part ways with him because he wasn’t enough. He can’t lose you. He won’t allow himself to tell you goodbye. He knows deep in his mind and heart that you would never cast him aside, that you’ll hold on to him until he’s breaking at the seams and even then, you’ll stitch him together- he’s seen you do it with old stuffed animal from your past, hands that remain still as you sew back your loved possession. As you fix what was once broken.

“I don’t want to be a project,” Keigo mutters. And his golden eyes meet yours, gold that has melted and now catches on his eyelashes makes everything just a bit too blurry for his liking. “I- I don’t want to be fixed- I just- I want to know that,” he struggles to have the words leave his throat, “I want to know that you won’t leave me.” He can’t handle it if you leave him. He has your love, he can’t have it taken away. He doesn’t have to be fixed, he just has to know that you’re still going to be there. That’s all he wants. “That’s what I want.” He’s been given free will before, been allowed to have choices that he’s wanted to make, but now, as he sits, body light, and eyes heavy, he wants to make one more choice, a choice that means more than you or him will ever know. He knows it’s selfish, he’s aware that neither of you can predict what can come, but he wants to pretend, wants to live in a fantasy that you won’t leave him.

“No more wings,” you breathe under your breath. He nods, shakily and sure of himself. “Keigo,” you call to him, hands reaching towards his and memories flash in his mind- hands that keep themselves open, that fist and close, that tug on black fabric and pound at the ground, that reach towards him with malicious intent and he stops breathing, sucks in a deep breath and exhales shakily as you cup his face and slide to the back his neck and he’s hiding himself on the crook of your neck, hands that fist the back of your shirt and he clings onto you, holding you tight like a lifeline, fear on his mind that if he were to let you go, you’d leave him.

His breath stutters as you slip your hands under his back, fingertips ghosting above and feeling the muscles twitch and strain. He whines and closes his eyes when you land on his scars that have healed. You run your hands over the soft tissue, soothing over the jagged repairs, the smoother lines a gentle brush under your fingertips, and they are asymmetrical. They do not mimic each other, they are different, no one line matching, pink and deeper hues running and coloring his back and he’s tender, holding onto you as you touch and ghost over where his wings once were. His scars are divine, etched into his skin in intricate lines, meeting and twisting into shapes that are touched lovingly so, without pity or the faint trace of disgust, touched with love and acceptance, softly and sweet and his name on your tongue is sweet and intoxicating.

[sleepymarklee]

Run Away

Magic Mirror! AU | Parallel Universe! AU |

I recommend listening to Magic Mirror for the beginning and then switching over to Run Away

when Mark is introduced :)

Aw man do I love Vocaloid,,,,especially Magic Mirror i always cry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

“Wishes happen to be my specialty,” he smiled at you.

… 

Slowly, you lifted yourself to your feet, and with the boy’s curious gaze following you, you reached a hand out to place it on the cool glass of the mirror.

Let’s start with you. 

The daughter of a wealthy merchant family kept as perfect as a porcelain doll.

You didn’t have any siblings, what with your mother being as delicate as you

You were her fourth child and the only one that lived past infancy

Even so, you were still rather sickly and your legs grew weaker as you aged

Most times you were pushed about the manor in a wheelchair by a maid

You didn’t have to worry about school, you received weekly lessons by a private tutor

You never saw much of the outside world, only your family’s estate. 

That didn’t mean you didn’t keep up with the world around you, you read newspapers and knew that trouble was brewing at your nation’s border. 

The Red Country to the north, Mistletoe, was becoming increasingly more aggressive in their border patrols, a war would be inevitable and your country, the Blue Country Valeria wasn’t particularly known for its military prowess

Even with the current state of your household and country, you tried to keep a smiling face through it all, knowing your happiness brought comfort to your parents

Despite your joyful facade, you often wept quietly in the observatory 

Reminiscing to your childhood, when your legs were stronger and your family wasn’t as concerned with the looming threat of attack, was bittersweet 

It seemed as if your family was set on happiness until Mistletoe started their own war campaign, annexing Valeria’s northern territories before coming to push against the national border

While your legs were weak, you loved to sit in the aging observatory in your house. It was more attic than observatory, and much of it was filled with old furniture and other belongings

You would often have your maid push your wheelchair to the base of the observatory stairs, and then slowly begin your ascent up to the top

You preferred to stay up in the room for hours, and while it was lonely it offered you some solace at night when you could peer through the ancient telescope. 

In the corner of the room, an antique mirror was kept, it’s ornate detailing covered by a protective cloth

One day, you decided to take the protective cloth off and you were astonished at the intricate metalwork on the mirror

“How could something so beautiful be kept up here, in the observatory among the old furniture?” you murmured

And so you began to spend increasingly more and more time in the observatory, gazing at the elegant silver mirror

One night, as you gazed up into the night sky through the telescope, you heard a faint tinkling of bells

Curious, you followed the sound as it became stronger ending up near the silver mirror

Sitting in front of it, you gazed at your reflection before turning to look at yourself, from your navy dress to the white stockings that covered your frail legs

As your eyes trailed back to the mirror, you’re shocked to find a pair of legs instead of your own reflection

Gazing up, you’re met with a boy, raven hair, doe eyes, looking down at you

Smiling, he raises a finger to his lips, before introducing himself

“I’m Mark, a magician, and wishes so happen to be my specialty,” he said softly

Looking over his outfit once more, it wasn’t like anything you had ever seen

Slowly, you lifted yourself to your feet, and with the boy’s curious gaze following you, you reached a hand out to place it on the cool glass of the mirror

He raises a hand to meet your own, and through the coolness of the mirror you feel a warmth before his fingers reach through to intertwine with your own

Looking into his eyes, a shy smile graces your face

“I’m (Y/n), by the way,” you breathe out, “how did you get in there?”

The boy, Mark, laughs softly, “it doesn’t really matter, what matters is that I’m here to grant every one of your wishes, whatever you desire”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

You gulp, glancing down at your legs. “Can you...can you help me walk again?”

When you lift your head back to Mark, you notice an almost sorrowful look in his eyes

“Of course”

And with a wave of his hand and a flash of red light, you find yourself standing taller, the slight buckling in your legs vanishing

With a sharp intake of breath and Mark’s soft, sad eyes watching you, you start to walk around the observatory, gradually taking bigger and more confident steps before your walk turns into a run

You turn your head to look at Mark, joy radiating off of you despite your misty eyes

Approaching the mirror, you once again go to put your hand against it

“Thank you, Mark”

Mark grins at you, the wistful look in his eyes not matching the toothy grin on his face

You reach your hand out, looking at him expectantly. 

“Can you come through the mirror?”

Mark’s grin falters, his eyes darting nervously 

“I—to be honest, I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh, “I don’t know if i can get my whole body through, even getting my fingers through was a surprise.” 

A small giggle brings his eyes up to your face, your eyes sparkling at him

“Well, since you’re a magician, I think I’ve found a loophole,” you replied

“Mark, I wish that you could come through the mirror,” you stated proudly

With another flash of red light, Mark looks up at you tentatively, before slowly taking a step out of the mirror

Truly face to face with him, you leap towards him, almost knocking him down, to give him a hug

“Mark, I have a question, not a wish” you murmur in his ear.

“Anything,” he says back.

You detach yourself, a tinge of red coloring your cheeks

“I wonder… if I were to call you my…  ‘first friend,’ would it be okay?” you ask softly, but your words don’t miss his ears

“I’d be honored,” he smiles down at you, backing up to give you a mock bow before raising his head, that stupid grin back on his face

He reaches into his pocket, bringing out a silver pocket watch and flipping it open, grimacing slightly

“I have to go now, but can I see you again tomorrow?” there’s a hopeful lilt to his words, causing another smile to erupt on your face

“I would love that.”

And with a flourish of his capelet, he disappeared into the mirror, leaving only your reflection staring back at you

As you descend the stairs, you notice that your maid has been waiting for you with your wheelchair, dozing beside it

Practically skipping over to her, you softly shake her awake, only for her to jump to attention, ushering you to your wheelchair

You assure her that you’ll have no need for it anymore, and with her bewildered gaze following your form, you head down the hall towards your room to retire for the night, visions of the beautiful boy with sad eyes filling your dreams

The following night, the windows of the observatory were filled with a warm glow as Mark worked his magic

Mistletoe withdrew its declaration of war, your parents trading sales were booming, and every day you found yourself wanting Mark to stay longer each night

You didn’t know much about Mark, but god did you wish to

He always managed to avoid your questions, so instead, you settled for the quiet friendship and solace you found when you were with him

He was cute, of course, you had never been courted before, so there was little experience on your end, but he was cute and awkward sometimes and he had a soft laugh and even though his eyes always held sorrow in them you sometimes caught a glimpse of the dreamy, starry-eyed boy underneath them

While Mark’s nightly visits continued, some feelings blossomed as well, making your heart flutter as you climbed the observatory stairs

Your wishes changed in nature now that life was happy and peaceful

One night you wished that the old observatory be turned into a grand ballroom, and Mark and you danced the night away

Other times it would be a picnic under a meteor shower, champagne and giggles and a soft kiss on the cheek as you parted 

That one kiss seemed to set off a chain reaction, as Mark grew bolder with each encounter and kisses on the cheek turned to pecks on the lips, and pecks on the lips turned into full-fledged kisses

You couldn’t wait for nightfall, as Mark stepped through the mirror, a shining ring in hand

“This isn’t a marriage ring but a promise ring, can you make a promise with me darling?” he asked, head cocked and doleful eyes glimmering 

“Anything for you, Mark,” you breathed out, eyes locked on the small ring

“Can you promise me that no matter what, you’ll always be happy?” he questioned.

“If it’s with you, I don’t think I can ever be unhappy, I can promise you that,” you told him as he slipped the silver band onto your finger

“Then I, Mark Lee, promise to always stay with you as long as I can.”

 Weeks pass, and you’re lying beneath the stars with Mark again

“Mark, let’s run away together”

He sat up immediately, staring at you. 

“What?”

“I mean it, we don’t have to get married, but I want you to be my forever, I want you to be the one who calls my name every morning, I would go to the ends of the earth for you Mark,” you said in earnest

“Please tell me yes,’ don’t say ‘no,’” you pleaded when you didn’t get an immediate reply.

“(Y/n), I—” you cut Mark off

“Why can’t you stay Mark? I love you but why must you always check that damn watch and then leave at midnight?” in a small fit of rage, you rip his pocket watch from its spot on his hip

Mark’s reaction was instantaneous, you almost didn’t see his hand move to grip the wrist that had his watch

“(Y/n),” his voice was calm, “that watch is currently what’s allowing me to move from the mirror into your world. I need you to let go of it.”

Letting your hand open, the watch drops, hanging from the chain still entwined with your fingers.

There in the starlight, the official crest of Mistletoe glimmered

Mark winced at the betrayal on your face as you observed the watch’s now eerie glow, the red light that was once magical to you strange

“Mark, while an explanation is due, our time together tonight is coming to an end, so while we’re together right now, could we just stay like this? Basking in the starlight and not caring about a thing in the world?” 

You were too distressed but also so enamored with the boy that even if the magical world you had created with him was crumbling, you at least wanted him with you for what could be your last moments together

“Can you just stay until I fall asleep, we can talk tomorrow, promise?” you ask, before lying back down and giving Mark his watch

Mark only nodded at you, dreading what was to come. But tonight, it was about you two, so he laid beside you and pulled you close, cherishing the time he had left

The next night, you two sat in front of the old mirror in the observatory, and Mark began his tale

“Beyond the mirror, in my world, it’s set in reverse. In my world, Mistletoe has conquered and annexed Valeria. Our destinies are intertwined, but we should have never met,” he explained with a sigh.

“When you were younger, you were happy, right? You could walk, for the most part, your family’s business was doing exceptionally well?” Mark confirmed

You furrowed your brow, “well, yes, that’s all true, but how do you know this? I had no knowledge of your existence yet you know so much about me?”

Mark gave you a sideways glance before looking back at the ornate mirror

“Let’s just say that, while you were living a happy childhood, mine wasn’t so rosy. I was sickly and miserable and no one pitied me, everyone seemed to hate me actually.”

You turned to look at Mark, who always had a softness about him that drew one in, how could he be so despised? Especially as a child nonetheless, was he a thief? An urchin?

“One day, a mysterious man came to me and told me that my unhappiness was a direct cause and effect of your happiness. So, I wished to take that from you, and I became healthy and beloved by the people. But years later, he came back and showed me your suffering, suffering that I caused,” Mark explained.

“He showed me all of this through a small hand mirror, which I had a piece of taken and fashioned into my pocket watch. It’s what helps me connect to your world.”

“I regret what I’ve put you through (Y/n), everything that I’ve given you, I gave to repay you for my happiness, but now I give to you out of love. So please, don’t forget me,” Mark said, reaching over to hold your hands. 

“What do you mean ‘forget you’ Mark? I could never forget you, you’re my first friend and my first love,” you answered. 

“That’s the thing, this magic that I cast, it’s not made to last forever. Everything you’ve wished for will have to return to the way it was before we met.”

The look on your face was almost enough to break Mark, telling you everything hurt him more than he could have imagined, he fell in love despite knowing that he’d have to leave, and now it felt like someone had placed a weight in his chest, one that only grew with each passing minute

“Please don’t cry, I don’t think I could handle it if you cried again,” he pleaded, reaching up to cradle your face. 

“Mark, it’s okay, I just want you to stay, I don’t need your magic, even if you didn’t have any magic to begin with I wouldn’t want it,” you hiccuped, tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

Mark hushed you, moving to press you in between his arms and hold you, placing soft kisses on top of your head, so that you wouldn’t see the redness in his eyes

“Let’s make a spell with your tears so that you won’t cry again, promise me that I’ll always be in your memories” he cooed, tightening his hold on you

“I promise”

And so, after Mark had painstakingly wiped the tears from your eyes and given you a goodbye kiss, he cast his final spell

A flash of blue light lit the windows of the observatory, and you were left alone, looking at the reflection of your red cheeks and puffy eyes in the mirror. 

You wanted to cry, scream, you wanted to break the accursed mirror, but when you tried, no tears would come

As you got up, your legs wobbling beneath you with an unfamiliar weakness, a small thud sounded on the ground

Reaching down, you held a small pocket watch, this time, with the crest of Valeria on it

Opening it, you found a mirror, but instead of a watch face, staring back at you was a photo of you and Mark smiling without a care in the world

And so, you continued to polish the old mirror and visit every night, hoping that one day instead of your reflection

You’d find a handsome boy with sad eyes smiling back at you

- 🍓 admin