── // feeling the dream .
// kpop demon hunters fic.
// jinu x reader.
// a/n: hi! i hadn't planned on expanding living the nightmare, but here you go!
his pov • living the nightmare
chapter 1 • like déjà vu ⋅ [1]
like déjà vu ⋅ masterlist
⚠️!! WARNING: kpop demon hunters spoilers !!
Your eyes shoot open, your vision blurred by tears. Blinking them away, you grab your phone from your nightstand.
You had that dream again. Well, not exactly again, but this is the only one that's recurring. These dreams specifically always seem to take place in the same time period, with the same people. A mother, a little girl, a young man, and... you? At least, that's the perspective these dreams always put you in.
Dressed in rags, surrounded by a variety of medicinal plants, you figured that 'you' were a low class physician. Glimpses of the noble class attire in other dreams suggested that all of these dreams take place in Joseon, Korea. Though no two dreams were ever the same, they always involved the same mother, little girl, and young man. Despite the muffled voices and the blurred faces, you couldn't help but feel that they were related to 'you'. The terms 'in-laws' and 'lover' comes to mind. Were they family? Were they 'your' family?
It's strange, you think. These dreams are starting to feel more and more familiar to you. Nostalgic, like you've experienced them before. A cold winter night, a scorching hot summer, a warm embrace, a kiss under the starry sky– all with that man.
You decided to tell Rumi about it the next night.
"I've had them for a while now," you said. "I don't really know how to explain it. It's almost like... they're my own memories? But not really. It feels like I'm living someone else's life."
"Have you talked to Celine about this?" You shake your head.
"No, though that probably isn't a bad idea."
"It wouldn't hurt to try, she might know a thing or two." She says. "So, you've had these dreams for how long and never told me?"
You and Rumi have been friends since childhood, way before the formation of Huntr/x. With both of your mothers being a part of the Sunlight Sisters, it was inevitable that you two would stay friends.
The two of you chat about anything and everything else, until a wave of tiredness hits you.
"Okay, Roomba, I'm getting tired," you say, holding back a yawn, "I'm gonna head out now. Good night."
"Hehe, goodnight, [Name]."
You didn't end up telling her about your latest dream, though, which woke you up in tears. In the dream, 'you' reached a hand out to a person's back, large wooden palace doors closing behind them. The distress, the sadness, the pain, you felt it all. But this time, you got a name.
You drift off to sleep, thinking of the name from the dream.
"Is this place even credible, Zoey?" You ask, staring at the entrance suspiciously.
"Don't you ever listen to Bobby, [Name]? The internet. Never. Lies!"
It was the day after Rumi lost her voice. Zoey suggested to get tonics from a shady looking alleyway doctor.
"There's no way he's legit, Zoey." Mira replies.
"The reviews were so good though!"
Needless to say that that whole ordeal was an experience to be remembered. After losing the staring contest with Mira, the doctor gave Rumi a box of the tonics– or, as Mira calls it, 'voice juice'– and the four of you went off on your merry way.
"We got the tonics! Yay!" Zoey exclaims. "Once your voice is fixed, we can get back to the important stuff, like the fans!"
"What exactly is in this 'voice juice' anyways?" You ask, taking a peek into the box.
Before you could take a better look at the tonics, the four of you see shadows in front of you. Five young men turn the corner. Tall, photogenic, straight off the cover of a magazine. A few of them talked amongst themselves, some listening into the conversations. One of them, a man with black hair, trails behind them, lost in his own thoughts, until he directs his gaze forward, past the men in front of him, and he looks at you.
The moment he sees you, it's like something in his expression changes. Not visually, but the way he looks at you with his chocolate colored eyes feels like he knows you. Not in the way that a fan recognizes their favorite artist, but like he knows knows you. And you don't know why, but you also feel like you know him.
He looks away and gently pulls the cyan haired man closer to him, making space for your group to pass.
You can't say for sure, but you feel like you've heard that voice before.
Later that night, you have another dream about 'you' again. This time, it's dark, 'your' eyelids are heavy, about to fall asleep. The sound of crickets fill the night, and there's a gentle breeze in the air. A comforting touch tucks a strand of hair away. Your conscious knows it's the young man again. He presses a kiss to 'your' forehead before whispering.
