Coming to, for (Y/n), was like getting bludgeoned to death by a million and one cinderblocks. This wasn't like the first time anymore, filled with relief and awe and wonder. This was a resigned self hatred, a self pity that (Y/n) wished for once - just once - that he would never feel the groggy, nauseous feeling of waking up in the morning again. He refused to open his eyes, even as his sight changed from pitch black to a fleshy orange as sunlight hit his eyelids. If he did not open his eyes, if he did not acknowledge he was alive, he wouldn't have to do it all over again. Maybe finally, if he just kept his eyes closed, eventually they'd think him dead and throw him in the streets to get trampled by ox carts.
"Aiyah, (Y/n), sleeping in so late on such an important day? You agreed to represent our establishment!" The reincarnater furrowed his brows and felt his soul grow heavy. He had spent so long suffering and being abused that he forgot where it started every single time he awoke - the most run down brothel in their village, the only prostitute being (Y/n) and the grandmother who acted as his mother. She didn't get many customers, and the ones that came for (Y/n) were generally sleazy old men that would be run off with a broom, so the only way for them to make money now that the brothel was effectively dead, rested on (Y/n)'s shoulders.
The old woman didn't seem to pay any mind to (Y/n)'s deadness, instead just heaving his quite thin body up all on her own. (Y/n) stayed ragdolled, hoping that she'd drop him back onto the ground and give up, but she didn't. Instead she dragged him into a different room, one much brighter and smelled like a musty flowery perfume. Ah, her room. (Y/n) wrinkled his nose involuntarily - the lady must've seen because she laughed heartily to herself. (Y/n) could feel himself become propped up on a cushion, and he knew the woman had situated him in front of her vanity.
"If you didn't want to be our establishment's golden pearl, you shouldn't have been born so beautiful~" she teased. (Y/n) cracked open his eyes, figuring he really wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. The old woman - he'd long forgotten her name in the many lifetimes he'd lived - looked the same as any old woman, silvery white hair done up with old fashioned combs and pins, powder makeup cracking along the ridges of her many wrinkles and eyeshadow and lip dye garish against the white powder. The large dark mole above her upper lip stood out drastically. But overall she was kind and was probably a beauty in her younger years.
As she continued to doll him up, (Y/n) sat perfectly still, letting her toss him this way and that. The young man had nearly forgotten about this part of his life - he'd met Zhou Xin in such a variety of ways that it almost felt strange to be meeting him like this again; the original way. The woman hummed an idle song as she worked, patting powder to remove any blemishes from (Y/n)'s skin and redrawing any beauty marks on his face with a kohl pencil to make it more seductive, using red make up on the outer corners of his lower lids.
"My, A - (Y/n), are you excited? His Lord has decided to come from his empty old estate to peruse the goods our village has to offer. Hopefully he's got good taste and sees you for the flower like beauty you are." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the pinkened scar encircling his neck. She tsked, brushing long (h/c) hair out of the way to pat it with white powder. "It still such a mystery how you got all these. Not even you can remember - you must've gone through something terrible." He could remember, all too well. It made his heart clench and he grimaced lightly. The old woman frowned sadly and gave him a comforting clasp on his shoulder. It didn't comfort him as much as it should have knowing that he was going back into the jaws of a mad dog, helpless and unable to save himself.
When (Y/n) had finally been fully painted, a gorgeous bejewled come holding his hair back from his face, and his robe done up suggestively, the old woman leaned back to look at her handiwork. Any visible scars had been covered up and (Y/n) looked like a fresh lily against white snow - untouchable and unbeatable. The King of Heaven himself would battle to the death for a taste of (Y/n) sweet touch. She nodded to herself proudly before coming round to look at his expression. Flat as always, which she merely sighed at. She wish he'd at least pretend to be excited, but if she was in his position, she doubted she'd be much more ecstatic. Young people yearned for their freedom more than anything else.
"Alright, A - (Y/n)," she announced with a crisp clap of her wrinkled, ringed hands. "You ready to blow those young hussies out of the water?" No response. She'd take that as a yes. She took (Y/n)'s slender hands in her own and helped him to his feet, (Y/n) wobbling slightly before steadying. It was showtime.
Exiting the decrepit brothel, (Y/n) could see the massive assortment of young girls and boys, some over 30 and some as young as 14, standing outside their establishments with their heads bowed. (Y/n) followed suit, noting that he was the only one representing the brothel he lived at. Well, that grandmother was too old for Zhou Xin's taste undoubtedly. Without raising his head, (Y/n) could hear the rhythmic beating of hooves as a carriage traveled through the Red Light District, Zhou Xin seated inside.
'Please go past, please go past,' (Y/n) repeated maniacally in his head, praying to anybody who would listen to make Zhou Xin leave him alone this life, to let him live in peace just this once. The beat of hooves came to a stop, much to close for (Y/n)'s comfort. The curtain of the carriage swished open and (Y/n), with his eyes burning holes in the ground before him, felt a cold sweat spring up on his back. Footsteps full of self importance and arrogance came down the steps of the carriage, making their way to the front. From above the cut of his brows, (Y/n) could make out the curled toe and gold gilding of that rabid dog's fancy boots, walking them come to a definitive stop.
"Guard," his voice was deep and piercing, making the blood in (Y/n)'s veins congeal and freeze. The soft movement of a sleeve, and (Y/n) knew that spoiled brat was pointing at someone. "Get me that one."
YOU ARE READING
life irreverent; yandere lord x reincarnater male reader
General Fiction"You were born to be mine - I won't let anyone have you, even if it kills you." You couldn't remember how you had even gotten here. The vague memories were nothing more than a blur now. All you knew was that you couldn't escape. The long sleep never...
