Drew some hefty Hamlet inspiration on this one. Originally it had a lengthy quote from Act III, Scene I at the bottem, but I took it out for brevity's sake.

Shoutout to howlingwolves on fire for the original prompt!

"You are a cursed monster."

Macbeth had heard those words more times than he could count over the course of his life.

Cursed child with two toned hair.

Cursed child with eerie, unfocused blood-red eyes.

Cursed child that killed his mother when he was born.

The words were burned into his skull. Screaming voices, and heavy hands. Purpling bruises left across his pallid skin.

And he couldn't help but agree with them. After all, what sort of monster looked at the burning village, the dying villagers at the hands of the laughing cultists, and thought, "Good riddance"?

Being taken to the Tower just seemed an extension of his curse. Barely a change from before. At the end of the day, Macbeth was still bruised, still curled in on himself, shutting out the tidal waves of noise and pain.

All he wanted to do was sleep. In dreamless sleep there was no pain, no suffering. No screaming voices.

And was it any real wonder that his magic, when it manifested, had been one that kept everyone at bay? One that could rewrite reality to be as he himself already saw it? Full of monsters, of terror and hate and pain. To show others how he saw them, and to keep them from hurting him more. To let him sleep, at last, in peace?

Brain had seen in him potential where others had seen only a curse. He'd wanted that. Clung to it.

But that had been a lie, too.

He would never allow another to reach beyond the reflector ever again.

So why was it that she was able to breach his defenses so easily? Get behind his guard with her kind smile?

Why was it that he wanted to let her in?

"Cursed demon spawn!"

Mirajane was no stranger to taunts, to hatred. Her appearance was monstrous. She already knew that. Better than anyone. Even years later, she still felt the sharp sting of stones against her skin, cuts long since healed bleeding.

But Fairy Tail had given her another chance. Makarov and her siblings had shown her that her power - while terrible - could be used to protect the ones she cared for most. After all... that was how she had acquired it in the first place.

So she couldn't just stand by, when she saw another like her. A person cursed by their own magic, by their life circumstances.

Demons could eat poison, and curses.

And she would free him from his.