Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own this franchise or any of its characters.
Narcissus
The man in the mirror looks just like me. Same blonde hair, same body shape, same curves, same longing in his eyes. The man in the mirror has eyes my opposite though with red matching up to my purple. His clothes always look different too. The man in the mirror wears gray to my white and red to my deep and vain purple. Vanity. The pursuit of the most forbidden love. A fairy tale similar to the ones I am told. Still lies are better than unending longing after all, aren't they? A lie of love, normal love as my love is impossible, at least for now.
Red is the colour of passion and purple is vanity. I'm not sure why they dress me up in purple then. It tells too much about me. I suppose it's because purple also symbolizes royalty so then does that mean that royalty is vain or that vanity is royal? Ah the mirror beckons me. The man with the voice just like me is calling out my name with the sneer echoing through. Ignoring the desperate pleas of the court as I walk off to see myself.
"It's not healthy." Someone dares remark.
How do they know what is healthy for me and what is not? I never asked for anyone's opinion. I don't need anyone's opinion. I don't care for it after all. What's a mob to a king?
In the middle of a night a star shining a brilliant purple and a deep and darkening red falls from the heavens to my earth. The falling star holds my dearest wish. A wish for the man in the mirror to talk back, to feel, to be in this lone physical world. The star falls into the garden. I run down even though there are cries for me to cease. A wish is far too much to let go so I won't let go. It's too hard to let go. It's too hard. In the garden all plants have grown higher than before and birds swarm the area. Birds of a type I've never seen before. White feathers are so beautiful in the moon. Why everything's beautiful, even the path of purple and scarlet fire that leads down further away. I walk beside the fire. A wish. A wish for the thing I truly desire. To love and be loved is all I want. A strange man is playing with a flower in my yard.
"And you are?" I ask with boldness and braveness.
A wish is found in his hands.
"A God you could say." He smiles.
As I get closer his appearance fades into view. The man's dressed all in white with lines of age imaged onto his face. He turns to look at me and so many different emotions flick through the jade eyes. A smile grows and the sharpened teeth poke through.
"Do you want something?" The kind of God asks me.
"Yes of course I do, I want the wish in your hands." I announce with the boldness and sound in my voice carrying down the garden and everywhere.
I echo back repeatedly and he smiles wide. This man is strange with his teeth and his shadow. His shadow is a bird with large wings. Even stranger his shadow is pitch white. What a curious sight, what a curious thing.
"The wish within my hands is not for you King." He smiles again.
"I assure you it is as I'm the only one that can see it."
"Ah then what do you want with a wish?"
"None of your business."
"It's all my business and regardless in order to make a wish you need to speak clearly and allow your voice to carry your true intentions."
"Nonsense, my true intentions are irrelevant."
"Then perhaps this wish within my hands is better suited to those with purer hearts."
"I think not! My wish is that I am to be loved and love in return."
"Liar. That's not what you want."
"What I want is forbidden so I'll settle to change myself."
"It doesn't work that way, wishes can't affect you."
"Then what's the point?"
"To give people what they want."
"Ugh, I'm sick of this nonsense!"
"Tell me your true wish."
"No! They'll hear me."
"And? What's a mob to a king?"
"I wish that the man in the mirror would talk back! I wish that the man in the mirror would be brought into this physical lone world! I wish that the man in the mirror was a man autonomous that loved me!"
"Now was that too hard?"
"You have no idea how hard that was."
"Ah well here's your wish regardless. I'll be back for my payment later."
"Wait what payment?"
"Nothing that a King can't afford to pay."
"Whatever then."
The white man walks into the darkness. I walk back to my castle, my miniature kingdom.
The maid with the spectacles perched at the end of her nose walks beside me.
"What were you screaming about your highness?" She asks.
I don't even remember her name. It doesn't matter, not to a king after all.
"I don't know. Perhaps I was dream walking." I reply.
"But your highness-" She starts.
"It's only a dream." I snap.
I walk back to my room with everyone whispering of me.
"We should smash that evil mirror into a thousand shards." Someone dares say.
I close the door and look into the man in the mirror darkly reflected.
"Goodnight." I mutter.
Praying it was not a dream I disappear into sleep.
The shadow of my other self is standing over me. With lips slightly parted in confusion and bewilderment another King is born, is made and is me. I don't understand this kind of feeling of familiarity. I don't understand feelings like this.
"Hello." I say with a shaking voice.
"Who am I?" I ask back.
"You're me but you're not, get it?"
"Not really."
"It's alright I don't get it either all I know is that I'm feeling things I've never felt before for you."
My other self smiles with a slight sadistic touch. I feel something painful.
"Do you know what a Shadow is?" I ask.
"No." I reply.
I smile with that horrible touch again.
"The bad things of a person that collect and I have to say I'm very bad."
"I see. Then I guess we're both bad."
"That's right King."
"If I'm the King than you're the Queen."
"Call me Queen then."
"Alright."
Queen's lips press against mine and he shoves me down on the bed. The flash of teeth too white and the blinding pain of them digging into the skin of my neck. I whimper like a small dog and his smile grows wider.
"Aren't you afraid of yourself?" Queen asks with malice hidden like a blade in silver tinted silk.
"Why should I be?" I ask in return.
Queen smiles yet again.
"Because you're a bad person." He answers.
"And?" I reply.
"Well if you accept it so readily than I suppose we'll have a lovely life together."
Queen's lips press against mine again and he runs his, my, tongue over my, his, lips. A hand grabs me sensitively and I cry out. The door to my bedroom opens and that maid, what's her name, stares behind those silly glasses.
"Your highness!" She gasps.
Queen sighs and sneers and sits up. The red in his eyes flashes with malice.
"And are you talking to the King or the Queen?" He laughs.
"The King!" The maid replies with annoyance.
"Well he's a little busy right now." Queen grins.
The maid looks even more confused when she sees me lying down on my bed.
"What's going on?" She asks.
"Well your King made a wish to love and be loved by the man in the mirror and such I was born as another form of royalty, the shadow of royalty. A Queen for a King. The Queen of Hearts for the King of Clover. Now go away." Queen demands.
He points his outstretched hand towards the door and with a haughty sneer turns back to me as what's her name. The maid stands still bewildered. Queen undoes the buttons on his gray version of my shirt. The edges of it are tattered and frayed and the buttons are silver to my gold. His bare chest is the very reflection of mine as far as I can see. The scar is even on the opposite side. I unnervedly place my hand against his chest and feel my own heartbeat. He does the same to me. I kiss my Queen once more with my hand still on his heart as all other sounds and feelings drown out. I take my hand off and he does the same. He slams me against the bed with all of our force and licks my neck affectionately. The night passes slowly as does our passion play and I fall fast asleep.
Vanity. The pursuit of happiness. A most forbidden fruit. My mirror image, my shadow and I entwined in ways thought impossible merely nights before. The wish we hold in our hands is something horrible and sweet and crueler than a child's pain. I'm crying again. I'm crying for myself and this love that I thought, I held completely destructive. Don't leave me.
I wake up with my mirror image sleeping peacefully. On the end of my bed is the smiling kind of God.
"Ready to pay King?" He asks.
"I suppose." I reply.
The smile he smiles next almost splits his face. The beauty behind it is just as petrifying as the malice and the pain it holds.
"The price is your soul." The kind of Devil smirks.
"What's a soul to a king?" I ask.
Why fear the loss of it? Why fear? There's no point in being scared of anything, of anyone. My soul is something weak and unnecessary. Regardless even if it was strong and important I'd give it away. I'd give even my beating heart, my eyes if I'm allowed to live and love in harmony with the other me.
"What's a king to a God?" He asks in return.
"What's a God to a nonbeliever?" I ask.
"What?" He stumbles.
"Well I don't believe you are a God and I don't believe that you can enforce the fact that I can give up my soul."
"Then why agree to it?"
"Because a good King always pays the price for his fruit, forbidden or otherwise."
"Well then you are smarter than I thought after all. Take your pleasures and I'll take mine."
"Why do you want a soul anyway?"
"To give to someone else."
"Who?"
"My shadow."
"How'd your come to life?"
"My shadow is not the same as yours, my shadow is my brother."
"Well then I hope my soul is sufficient."
The kind of Devil smirks and rams his hand into my chest. I scream and the door opens suddenly with the maid, what's her name standing there. She doesn't say anything as the kind of Devil removes the soul from my beating heart and walks away.
"You made a deal with a Devil?" She stutters.
"Yes." I reply.
"Why?" She asks.
I gesture to the sleeping shadow of my other self beside me.
"For a Queen to my King." I answer.
"But why? Why yourself?"
"Because there's no one else."
And with that I fall asleep beside my Queen.
What will tomorrow bring? Consequence? Pain? Romance? Sour? Sweet? Bitter? Life? Love? Vanity? The pursuit of happiness? If understanding love, emotions, royalty, the reasons for the things I feel requires more losses than a flimsy soul than it would seem that I am to lose. If love is pain, if love is vanity then I'm sure that love is mine. That maid, what's her name, what's her name, I don't even care, is probably going to run screaming demon through the halls. Regardless I won't be alone in life or death. I have myself no matter how lonely it seems. I'm all that I'll ever need, understand? Should the loss of my soul be something horrible than I'm glad that I lost it for something grand in return. Loving myself is rather strange. You probably think me so vain I deserve whatever horrible may come but I promise you this, I am in love with the man in the mirror.