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audriel · 1 year

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the moon in autumn - winter i

The end of to the long darkness...

Here is where story starts to diverge from canon. The long awaited reunion finally arrives...

Also published in AO3

Fang Rui quietly opens and closes the door behind him, purposefully not announcing his presence. For a while, he merely stands there, closing his eyes, breathing in the scent and warmth of the apartment–home, safety. The tension slowly bleeds out of his posture. The last of them disappears as he takes off his Wind Howl jacket and hooks them on the wall.

“I’m home.” Fang Rui habitually speaks into the darkness, careful not to disturb the peaceful silence, knowing it has long passed Fang Qiuyue’s bedtime. Without making any noise and turning on the lights, he slips into the master bedroom where he can see two sleeping figures on the bed. He slowly lays down on his side on the bed, gazing at his daughter, just watching her sleep. He finds his breathing slowly matching his daughter’s. He could have easily dozed off if it wasn’t for a groggy voice calling his name.

“A-Rui?”

“Hey, mā.” Fang Rui answers softly, blinking away sleep.

“What time is it?” Her mother attempts to locate the closest clock to check the time.

“It’s past midnight.” Even in the dim light, Fang Rui could see her frown.

“Why don’t you wash up and I’ll make us tea.”

“Okay, mā.” Fang Rui inwardly sighs as he reluctantly removes himself from his daughter’s side. He wanted to delay this conversation until morning, but his mother is too sharp. He brushes his lips over Fang Qiuyue’s forehead before going to the bathroom.

Fang Rui follows the comforting scent of tea, seating himself at the counter while watching Zheng Shu making tea. He is thrown back in time when he was merely a boy, encountering difficulties in adapting to his new environment. Being the son of a Chinese diplomat, Fang Rui and his elder sister often moved from country to country, learning new languages, new cultures that are different from their own. It was easy to get lost, to forget themselves.

When Fang Ying was busy at work, it was Zheng Shu who provided stability for their children. She always made sure to be there for them, to remind them who they are and where they come from by giving her time and attention alongside a cup of red tea brewed from the tea leaves from her hometown. It is the scent she and her children have grown up with, and have come to associate with comfort and safety.

Ye Xiu’s scent is closer to pu-erh tea than red tea. The thought comes so suddenly that for a while Fang Rui doesn’t know how to react.

It’s not that the sire of his daughter never crosses his mind, not when he can see him in their daughter and definitely after he managed to return to the Alliance after winning against Excellent Era in Challenger’s League. He must admit he feels a great deal of schadenfreude at the fate of Ye Xiu’s former club at first, but when he catches a glimpse of Ye Xiu’s expression at the press conference, fleeting as it was when he was questioned about Excellent Era, that feeling didn’t last. Ye Xiu has given them more chances than they deserved, for no other reason that he really treasures them and all they stand for. There is no one else who loves Excellent Era more than Ye Xiu, and no one is more hurt than he is with the fate that befallen the team he has fought and bled for. This might be the outcome he wants to avoid by willingly removing himself from Excellent Era, and yet… it happened anyway.

So it’s a welcome news and a huge relief when he hears that Excellent Era is not completely gone, and that it’s led by his supposed successor for One Autumn Leaf. He thinks Ye Xiu can rest easy and start looking for the future, aiming for the Championship with the people whom he can trust.

Thinking of what Ye Xiu has endured makes what happens to himself much bearable. And it’s not like he doesn’t see it coming. The different playstyle is one thing, but the other thing is that he keeps delaying telling the truth of his secondary gender to Tang Hao, who’s supposed to be his captain. He’s really glad that only a limited few in Wind Howl knows of his secondary gender, and that they leave it up to him to reveal it. Because he trusts his instinct.

It’s not just Tang Hao, it’s the whole team. His instinct is telling him that they are and will not be pack the way the original team was. In the beginning, it was not much of a problem, considering how pack culture is becoming less known and valued in this beta-oriented society. Fang Rui is just incredibly fortunate with his family and later Blue Rain and Wind Howl. It’s common for non-betas live their lives without ever having experienced pack culture and being part of a pack. He’s prepared to have a team that’s not a pack since the members of the old Wind Howl slowly retired one by one. However, when reality hits him in the face, he realizes that he’s not ready, he’s not even willing.

It’s not just for himself, but also for Fang Qiuyue.

Young as she is, Fang Qiuyue has shown adventurous spirit, especially now she has learned to walk. He’s pretty sure she has explored every inch of their studio apartment, and it’s not even that small and narrow. It’s the apartment Lin Jingyan purchased for their pack after all. His old captain just gives him the keys the moment they have decided upon their arrangement once he left for Tyranny. It doesn’t need to be said that the process until they came to the decision has been difficult and the worst argument to date since they knew each other.

Due to his schedule, more often than not it’s his mother who takes Fang Qiuyue out, but Zheng Shu is not young. Right now she can handle Fang Qiuyue with her wobbling steps, but once she learns to run… She’ll want to see everything, and she should be able to do so freely. Fang Rui will be better suited than his mother when she does.

In the first place, Fang Rui should be the one spending time with her, to show her the world, to see how her eyes alight with wonder, to answer all of her questions, to guide and protect her. He doesn’t want to limit her world to only himself and his mother, to the few spaces both of them can access freely and safely with her.

And he cannot do that without a team that’s not his pack.

Pack implies inherent, implicit trust between the members, deeper and stronger than ordinary relationships. Pack is where they can be themselves without hiding or repressing their nature. Fang Rui cannot find himself sharing his secondary gender, let alone his daughter with the team. He doesn’t want his daughter to learn the wrong lesson early on.

He already feels the distance with the difference in mindset and playstyle despite his best attempts. Zhao Yuzhe and the younger members are already looking at him like he is the relic of the past, wondering why he is not getting on with the times. Meanwhile, the older members are looking at him like he has all the answers, waiting for him to tell them they have nothing to be worried about.

Tang Hao… he’s not a bad person and an undeniably god-level player, but he’s definitely young and inexperienced, more so as a captain. He’s willing to learn all about Glory and team management, but not so much when it comes to Wind Howl history and playstyle. Changing the team’s playstyle means also changing the tactical system. To do so, they need to put their heads together and find a way to make it work. He cannot just expect everyone to follow his lead and to make all the adjustments to accommodate him, while expecting everything to fall into place.

All of this puts immense pressure on him. The remaining Wind Howl pack members try their best, but there’s no one whom he could share the burden with. The apartment where he’s staying with Fang Qiuyue and his mother has become his sanctuary, his safe haven, where he can just be.

Fang Rui has no doubt his mother noticed a long time ago, but she knows there’s only so much she can do. Truthfully, she has done everything and more. He wouldn’t hold out as long as he has without her love and support. Lin Jingyan, should he stay, might be of help in Wind Howl, but he won’t be much help at raising a child. With Zheng Shu, not only does he have someone he fully trusts to help him with raising Fang Qiuyue but also to take care of her while he’s working. It’s one less thing for him to be worried about. She also provides an excellent smokescreen and excuse for moving out of the dorm and joining the extra training at the apartment.

That might be the reason why she offered before he could think of asking her. Fang Ying also has no objections, since he’ll get the much more constant and consistent updates about their only grandchild from Zheng Shu. His father just helps him with moving in without being told, then drops by randomly whenever he has time. Now he understands where the casual attitude he and his sister inherit is from.

He knows this is not the way to go. Something’s gotta give. He started paying close attention to middle and top teams, not only the team but also their management. He actually has been in informal exchange with some of the important members of the teams. Fang Qiuyue might have become his whole world, but he also knows that his love and passion for Glory and championship are still burning bright. He won’t settle, not even for Fang Qiuyue.

It’s just… Wind Howl has been another home for him who barely stayed in one place for a long time. He hasn’t even stayed that long in his hometown before leaving for Blue Rain. Five years is not a short time. He still holds out hope, however small and fleeting as it is. So long as Tang Hao is willing to meet him halfway, he will find a way to make it work for Wind Howl. They have managed to reach semifinals in this season, the furthest they’ve ever gone. He thought it meant something, that they would see the value in dirty playing, but it seemed like a futile hope, dashed with tonight’s confrontation after the Ghost Lair event.

Fang Rui’s grip on the warm cup tightens, recalling the cold shoulders from Tang Hao and the bleak atmosphere falling over the training room. He cannot recall the last time he heard true, genuine laughter in the room where he has spent most of his professional life. It feels like there’s no day without laughter with the old Wind Howl, or even in Blue Rain. They can joke and play around because they trust the others won’t lose sight of what matters the most, that when it’s time they will give their all and work together for the sake of victory. Forget a pack, when has the new Wind Howl been a team?

He knows it’s time to go.

“I won’t be staying in Wind Howl.” Fang Rui doesn’t stutter.

“What happened?” Zheng Shu asks, more surprised at the firmness of his answer.

“Irreconcilable differences.” Fang Rui smirks mirthlessly. His mother frowns imperceptibly. She rounds up the counter to hug him.

“I’m sorry, A-Rui.” Zheng Shu knows better than anyone else how much Wind Howl means to him and how hard he tries to make it work.

“It cannot be helped.” Fang Rui relishes his mother’s warm embrace, inhaling her faint sandalwood scent.

“So… Thunderclap?” Zheng Shu asks once they separated.

“I still need to talk with Xiao Shiqin. Fang Xuecai has spoken on my behalf, and Xiao Shiqin does respond positively, but it’s always better to discuss it in person.”

“You really cannot go to Little Kai and A-Ce’s teams? Or even Jingyan’s?” Fang Rui shakes his head. Of course his mother would have preferred his closest friends, not only are they familiar but also they are pack to him.

Both Zhou Zekai and Wu Yuce proposed their own teams when they found out about his circumstances. While Samsara and Void are not official packs, they do behave like packs, and both are the designated head of the pack so it’s not difficult to make the team an official pack. However, pack is pack and team is team. They need to consider not only the present but also the future of the team. They might be able and willing to accept Fang Rui (and Fang Qiuyue) as a member of their pack, but not necessarily Fang Rui the Thief as a member of their team. So he simply tells them to come back again with their proposal if they have truly considered and discussed it with the team and management. In a rare sight, both sported matching aggrieved looks at that. Though it looked fierce on Wu Yuce’s face, and less so on Zhou Zekai’s. Fang Rui couldn’t help patting the head of the alpha of their small pack at his expression.

In contrast, Lin Jingyan has gone from dropping hints to outright promoting Tyranny. He is the first to suspect the difficulties Fang Rui was dealing with are more than differences in playstyle. Fang Rui didn’t confirm or deny, both because he’s pack and opponent, but Lin Jingyan knows him too well so in their exchanges there was always a mention of how good of a pack Tyranny is, which Fang Rui rather finds hilarious. Because well, it’s Tyranny.

And back then, Tyranny was performing incredibly well too, and later on they only fell short in the finals. What is to say they won’t win the championship this season? But does he really have a place in Tyranny for being more than Lin Jingyan’s partner? He really cannot think of any other reason why Tyranny is willing to consider dirty playing Thief for upright Tyranny but for his partnership with Lin Jingyan. And his old partner will eventually retire. What then? But Tyranny has been indeed the first one he has reached out to via Lin Jingyan and has remained at the top of potential teams list for a long while.

Blue Rain is actually the first that comes to mind, being the only official pack in the Alliance. He has also maintained a good relationship with them. It’s known to them that he’s non-beta, but nothing more. It would be easy to join their pack, but it has the same problem with Samsara and Void. His playstyle is too distinct, too mature, and too similar with Huang Shaotian, their ace and core player. While he can play in individual and group arena, he might not be played at all for team competitions, which is only slightly better than Lin Feng, their current Thief player. Fang Rui won’t be satisfied with that. So he didn’t even bother with them.

Thunderclap is actually not among his first choices. However, they have an omega in their team, and he can see Dai Yanqi is not hiding her secondary gender among them and her teammates are fully accommodating. And he is pretty close with Fang Xuecai who is of the Fifth Generation. Technically so was Liu Hao, who replaced Xiao Shiqin as Thunderclap’s captain in Season 9. The latter is the reason why he has reservations regarding Thunderclap. He has no strong evidence, only mere suspicions that he has a significant role in Ye Xiu’s retirement and Excellent Era’s downfall.

And now the man got himself transferred from Thunderclap to Wind Howl, while Xiao Shiqin and Life Extinguisher returned to Thunderclap from Excellent Era, removing the last of his reservations and strengthening his belief that Thunderclap is the best choice. He actually contacted Fang Xuecai immediately once Liu Hao and Xiao Shiqin’s transfer were confirmed.

“Thunderclap is in Wuhan. Is it alright?” Now that the atmosphere has eased, his mother retakes her seat across from him, her own cup of tea in hand.

“I’ve never been to central China. It’ll certainly be an experience.” Fang Rui chuckles in amusement, not surprised with Zheng Shu’s answer. She has given the same response when she decided to accompany him and Fang Qiuyue in Nanjing, the only difference is instead of central China it was eastern China then.

“I’ve never been to Hangzhou, either.” Zheng Shu continues in the same, even tone, as if she’s merely talking about the weather. Fang Rui nearly chokes on the tea he’s drinking. He collects himself before answering.

“Happy is a grassroots team. I don’t think they can afford me and Doubtful Demon. I don’t think they need a Thief, either.” Fang Rui recalls the team’s known players and their classes. Zheng Shu merely sips her tea, her silence speaks by itself.

It’s not that Fang Rui hasn’t considered it, Ye Xiu has an experience in leading a pack and is familiar with pack culture, from what he has seen and heard. And he knows for certain, Wei Chen is an omega like himself. Fang Shijing didn’t hide it from him when Fang Rui figured out his similarity with Wei Chen is more than just their dirty playstyle.

However, Ye Xiu also happens to be the sire of his daughter, who hasn’t known he has one yet. Fang Rui is quite certain with his personality, Ye Xiu won’t react too badly, but being so immersed in Glory and in the pursuit of Championship, he likely hasn't considered fatherhood, or life outside Glory, period. Fang Rui himself was guilty of this.

Being in the same team will take the choice from him what kind of role Ye Xiu’d like to have in Fang Qiuyue’s life, at least the time for him to really think and decide. This also hasn’t taken account of Happy themselves, as a team and as individuals. Especially one particular individual…

Su Mucheng.

Ye Xiu and Su Mucheng’s interactions remind Fang Rui more of himself and Lin Jingyan, and himself with his sister, but he can never be too sure. For all he knows, he’s come between them or something. Man, he sure hopes his life doesn’t turn out like those soap operas the girls like to watch. He cannot really say all this to his mother though, so he settles with the less complicated, but no less true answer.

“It doesn’t mean we won’t visit Hangzhou in the future. Just probably not anytime soon. I’m due to visit Old Ye, anyway.”

“When do you intend to meet up with him?” Zheng Shu asks, accepting his response. She has no further objections.

“The sooner the better, definitely. We cannot afford to get distracted so close to the start of the season.” Zheng Shu looks at him in exasperation at this. “...what?” Fang Rui blinks in confusion, so he runs the words back in his head.

“Well… if it was me, I’d definitely not want to be distracted? After all, it’ll be a new team for me and a new experience with a new team for Old Ye?” Fang Rui tries again, less certain on why his mother reacts that way. Zheng Shu just shakes her head, a wry smile on her lips as she reaches out to smooth his hair gently.

“I cannot wait to meet this Old Ye of yours. You certainly give me quite an impression of him.”

“Er…” Fang Rui now wonders what kind of impression he has given to his mother of Ye Xiu. He really, really hopes it’s nothing bad. Fang Rui doesn’t think he talks a lot about Ye Xiu, but it’s not that he never mentions him at all. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t talk about him badly. Though… it’s not like he doesn’t have complaints about the alpha. He groans inwardly when he recalls tonight’s Glory event. Ye Xiu really knows how to test people’s temper, seriously. Fang Rui’s no exception. Inwardly he sends out an apology to Ye Xiu. His mother can be formidable, hopefully she’ll go easy on him when they meet.

***

Fang Rui takes his seat by the window in the high-speed train back to Nanjing. Once again, he gets the lone seat without a neighboring passenger. There’s no certainty about getting this kind of seat for Superior class, unlike Business class. He definitely can purchase the latter, but he’s been more careful in his spending. It also helps that he hasn't used much of his salary and sponsorships, so he doesn’t have to worry about money in raising Fang Qiuyue anytime soon, especially if things are working out. Reclining comfortably with a sigh on his seat, Fang Rui is feeling luck on his side despite everything that has happened.

The next morning after his late night discussion with his mother, the boss himself asked him to come to the office only to be told that he was allowed to leave. Bless Old Yang, he was tactful about it by starting with the facts, followed by the club’s perspective of the situation which led to their decision in letting him go. He also didn’t bring in Manager Zhu into the office for their talk, despite knowing that he was likely briefed on the situation by the manager.

Fang Rui personally likes Boss Yang, he gives freedom to the management and the team, trusting them to make the best decisions for the club, so he rarely gets involved in team affairs except in certain situations, such as changing captain and core player. Because of his stance, Boss Yang has good relationships with everyone in the club and sees the members of the club more than just his employees to treat them with care and respect. Boss Yang is likely the reason why they made such a delicate approach to Lin Jingyan when Manager Zhu likely made a strong argument that it was time for Lin Jingyan to retire while having already contacted Tang Hao. Manager Zhu has conceded with difficulty. Fortunately, Tyranny came knocking at the right time before it could turn ugly.

This time was no different. While he might have some words for Manager Zhu for his treatment of Lin Jingyan, he has nothing to say to him in his case. The manager made the right approach by asking himself for clarification, then consulting the captain who is the future of Wind Howl for his opinion, before coming to a decision.

“I understand, I completely understand. You don’t need to say any more.” Fang Rui smiled and didn’t listen to the boss’ explanation any further. He knew that the club was without a choice as well.

“Alright!” The boss of Wind Howl didn’t insist on explaining. “Wherever you want to go, we’ll try to make things as convenient as possible for you.”

“Hm… let me think about it!” Fang Rui spoke, not wanting to give away that he already had few candidates in mind.

“That’s fine, we have time.” Boss Yang paused, before continuing. “Considering your circumstances, if you need additional help in assessing the clubs and their personnel, all you need is to ask. We can make it as discreet as possible.”

Fang Rui was completely taken aback by that offer, especially when he saw that the boss truly meant it. The boss has known of his omega identity from the beginning, and he never treated him any differently so Fang Rui didn’t know how much he understood of what it meant being a male omega in their society.

“That’s… very kind and generous of you.” Fang Rui would be lying if he wasn’t touched by the gesture. Boss Yang only smiled helplessly, an expression he rarely saw in the other man.

“It is the least I can do. I can’t do much for Jingyan, but I can do this for you.” Boss Yang looked at him. “Jingyan, and Wind Howl wouldn’t last this long without you.”

“That’s an exaggeration.” Fang Rui shook his head.

“Jingyan cannot keep up the aggressive style for long. He himself admitted that,” Fang Rui couldn’t hide his surprise at that, Boss Yang guessed right that Lin Jingyan kept some things from his junior. “It didn’t look like it, but he was overextending himself by the end of fourth season. You give him and Wind Howl a way to keep fighting, even against all odds. After all, we don’t have master tacticians or powerful players in the team. You’re all we have.”

Boss Yang cuts Fang Rui off before he can speak up. “Jingyan is an All Star, but he’s no god-level player. If I could, I’d like to keep you. But I’m afraid I’m not as firm and daring as Boss Ma of Tyranny.”

“And we don’t have Zhang Xinjie.” Fang Rui joked.

“There’s that too.” Boss Yang laughed lightly. In the end, they could only exchange wry smiles. Finally the boss broke the silence. “Just let me know, okay?”

“Yes. Thank you Boss.” Fang Rui did intend to take up on his offer despite having narrowed down his choices, there was no harm in being more thorough. He couldn’t expect people to be so open and forthcoming right off the bat, after all.

Only to be proven wrong, when not a day later he received a call from Xiao Shiqin himself and by the end of the call, he was invited to have an informal meeting in Wuhan.

The meeting was conducted in a private room on the second floor of a café close to Thunderclap’s home base, emphasizing the informal nature of the meeting. Furthermore, Xiao Shiqin did not only bring Fang Xuecai, whom he was familiar with, but also Dai Yanqi, who made the first overtures so naturally with her own exuberant personality and her knowledge of being safe among her seniors, one of which was a fellow non-beta. Xiao Shiqin looked sheepish, but those glasses couldn’t hide the calculating gleam behind them. Of course, as expected from a Master Tactician.

It was an effective way to gauge each other, by starting out with the most difficult topic. Before they knew it, they delved into a serious discussion about secondary gender and pack culture which lasted until noon and Fang Rui was brought into the club right after lunch to play a few games with the rest of the team. The day ended with them having an afternoon snack together in Thunderclap’s lounge since Fang Rui couldn’t stay for dinner, not wanting to miss the last high-speed train back home. By then, he and Thunderclap were already familiar with each other beyond mere acquaintances and opponents onstage. Xiao Shiqin and Fang Xuecai were still the only ones who fully knew of his situation, but it was a promising sign nonetheless.

Nothing was set in stone yet, as Xiao Shiqin hasn’t really talked with the team and management about being an official pack, while he didn’t think there would be significant resistance, he would like to be certain first before officially inviting Fang Rui. Fang Rui’s secondary gender was less of an issue thanks to Dai Yanqi, but his daughter was a different matter, especially since Fang Rui implied that the sire was another pro player, whom he hasn’t talked to yet in regards to overall arrangement, so Xiao Shiqin would also be waiting for news from him whether there would be resistance on Fang Rui’s side before proceeding any further, knowing Fang Rui wanted to have few people in the know before they were truly certain. This makes Fang Rui appreciate Xiao Shiqin more. He might be a beta, but he’s a quick learner and naturally sharp and observant. He has the makings of a good pack leader.

Fang Rui didn’t tell Xiao Shiqin the complexity of his relationship with Fang Qiuyue’s sire, but ultimately it doesn’t change the fact that it is about time to meet with Ye Xiu anyway. He thinks it’s better this way too, that he already has plans in place so Ye Xiu won’t feel obligated to make up his mind quickly. He exits the chat with his mother, having told her he had boarded the train back so she would know when to expect him, and opens up the pro player chat group. He hesitates briefly before clicking on the name of Lord Grim. Once again, the empty chat window taunts him. Now and then, despite the changed name, the state of their chat window remains the same. Soon this will change.

Fang Rui is so busy formulating the words when suddenly a message pops up that his thoughts are completely derailed, not to mention with such shocking content.

“Dirty Fang, have you ever thought about changing classes? What do you think about Qi Masters? There’s one waiting just for you!”

“What the-” Fang Rui cuts himself off. He has watched his language since he had Fang Qiuyue. His mind has gone blank, whatever thought he previously had was wiped out and he can only respond incredulously.

“Are you joking?” And what comes after is an exchange to show that Ye Xiu is not joking, that he’s really asking him to change classes, and proceeds to give the most thorough analysis of potential teams for Fang Rui. Some that he has thought of, some that he hasn’t, convincing him that he is really talking with the one and only Ye Xiu. Only he can be this shameless while being so difficult to refute.

Fang Rui is surprised and pleased to hear such a high assessment of Thunderclap from Ye Xiu and it should be enough for him. However he cannot help but wonder how Happy is in comparison despite knowing he’s taking Ye Xiu’s bait. Ye Xiu goes on to talk about how Happy is not as weak as Fang Rui thought, while giving strong evidence to back it up.

Admittedly Fang Rui has followed every news related to Happy closely, so he was aware that Happy had purchased Boundless Sea which made him know that Happy will be looking for Qi Master player, but he wasn’t aware that Happy managed to upgrade Boundless Sea’s weapon to Level 75 due to his trip to Wuhan. This changes what he knows of Happy, he wonders what else he doesn’t know.

Fang Rui simply types two words: Go on.

What happens next is pretty much Fang Rui having his entire worldview upended, at least in regards to Happy. Besides having spat so much blood that he is sure he should be anemic by now.

Fang Rui is not one easily persuaded. He knows the power of words, knows how to wield it and how to defend against it. He is the master of dirty playing, he recognizes how Ye Xiu keeps him on the back foot, bombarding him with arguments, giving him little time to process, drawing him into his rhythm. It is an all too familiar song and dance for him. He is ready to fight back, to stand his ground, to break away, until one word stops him.

Unexpected.

Glory Textbook, indeed. It can be said that the dirty playstyle is Fang Rui’s original creation. However, Ye Xiu has no lesser grasp of the playstyle. The greatest strength of playing dirty is that it not only strikes at the player’s character, but also at their heart.

And that was what Ye Xiu did.

The word ‘unexpected’ truly encapsulates the style of playing dirty. It fully captures what Fang Rui is all about. He acknowledges that he has lost this round.

“I’ll come visit Happy and then decide,” is his final decision.

“Welcome,” is all Ye Xiu types.

Fang Rui comes home in a daze. He hasn’t fully recovered from his exchange with Ye Xiu. One moment he was prepared to arrange a meet up with Ye Xiu to talk about Fang Qiuyue, then the next he was to visit Happy as the potential candidate of his future team. He got himself a severe whiplash.

“I’m home.” Fang Rui declares absently as he removes his shoes and wears the indoor slippers. Zheng Shu appears with dozing Fang Qiuyue on her arms.

“A-Rui, what was wrong? I thought you said it went well?”

“...Old Ye invited me to Happy.” Zheng Shu blinks, and blinks. Her flabbergasted expression brings Fang Rui back to his senses, “Happy bought an All Star Qi Master account, but all the notable Qi Master players rejected his offer, so he asked me to change classes.”

“Is changing classes that easy?” Zheng Shu frowns, allowing Fang Rui to take Fang Qiuyue from her.

“Not at all.” Fang Qiuyue lets out a comfortable sigh as she buries her head into the crook of her dam’s neck where Fang Rui’s neck gland is, the action never failing to make him smile.

“Changing classes is risky. If the class change is successful, that is a breakthrough. But if it isn't successful, then not only was it unfortunate, it is possible that when the player tries to change back, they won't be able to discover the old feeling again, and the player's skill would be ruined for good.”

“Then, why?” His mother appears rightfully alarmed at this.

“I’m not that unfamiliar with Qi Master. You might not remember, but it was the class I started with. Though it was Thief that I eventually played professionally as.”

“So you have changed classes before.”

“But I was young then, and I didn’t have an established style and habits, so it wasn’t difficult to change class.” The question marks are written upon his mother’s face. Fang Rui patiently explains to her, “Qi Master is a powerful mid-ranged class, and because it’s a Fighter subclass, it can attack at close range. It has more to offer than Thief.

“I’ve been Thief for five years now. King of Thieves, Master of Dirty Playing, they called me, but I’ve never reached the finals. Even with Old Lin, playoffs were the most we could aim for. We reached the semifinals this season, but they didn’t want me and my Thief, and there are only a few teams I can go to.

Changing classes might sound insane. But I’ve heard that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Old Ye didn’t ask me to change my playstyle, the only thing I cannot and I will not change, only my class.”

Fang Rui sees understanding dawn in Zheng Shu’s eyes. Due to his secondary gender, Fang Rui has learned from early on to be compromising and obedient, but he has also learned to draw the line for himself and to stand his ground when necessary. Changing his playstyle is one of the things he is not willing to compromise on, not only because it is already deeply ingrained in his flesh and blood, but also its significance for himself and Wind Howl, more so with what Boss Yang revealed to him.

From the beginning, Ye Xiu made it clear that while he and Happy didn’t need his Thief, they needed Fang Rui, maybe not him in particular, but they needed his skill and experience, dirty playstyle notwithstanding. Ye Xiu sees value in him and his playstyle, and he believes he can accomplish the near unheard feat of changing classes.

“I’m not the only one bearing the risk, so are he and Happy. When we have set our sights on the Championship, playing it safe won’t be enough. The greater the risk, the greater the reward.”

For a while, Zheng Shu only stares at him, before smiling and holding Fang Rui’s cheek gently.

“There you are, my bold and daring A-Rui. This is the most excited I’ve ever seen you. Don’t you realize?” Fang Rui is stunned speechless. “If it’s not for Yueyue, you’ll probably go visit Happy at once.”

“I-”

“Do you remember? We were barely a year having moved back to China, and already you got yourself registered for the amateur League and returned with an offer to join the training camp to become a pro player. We didn’t even know much about Glory, let alone that you consider playing professionally.

“It was no different when you had Yueyue, either. You just told us you were pregnant and would be raising the child without giving up on Glory and being a pro player.”

There is no condemnation in Zheng Shu’s gaze and tone, but Fang Rui feels abashed nonetheless. He sounds so selfish and greedy.

“We’re so very glad and very proud that despite how the world wants you to push you down, to make you feel lesser, you will not stop chasing after what you want without losing sight of yourself.”

“Mā…” Fang Rui cannot tamp down the emotions that well from within him, his chest and throat feel tight. He can only lean on the warmth of his mother’s palm, willing the tears not to fall.

“Regardless, I have Fang Qiuyue to think about now. Happy might be more than it seems, but it’s still too early to tell. I haven’t even talked with Old Ye about Yueyue.” Fang Rui cannot even fathom how to start that conversation with this turn of events.

“You’ll find a way to make it work.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you're my son, and I believe in you.” Fang Rui can see she meant every single word. Her faith in him is humbling.

“I’ll do my best.” Fang Rui kisses her palm.

***

Fang Rui steps out of the taxi in a cap and sunglasses right outside of Happy Internet café. He is pleasantly surprised to find that the weather is much more comfortable than in Nanjing and Wuhan. He didn’t have a reason to visit Hangzhou in the summer after all. He cannot help but look across the road where Excellent Era used to be. He can hardly believe how close the Internet café is to Excellent Era. Ye Xiu’s old team and new team are within walking distance. It’s as if he just walked out from Excellent Era to build a new team in the first Internet café he saw. And of the two, in an ironic twist of fate, it’s that grassroot team that remains.

Life is truly full of surprises. Change is the only certainty in life.

Fang Rui doesn’t linger, he turns around and walks into the Internet café towards the reception desk where in front of it there’s a woman standing nervously from the way she’s squeezing her hands.

“Boss Chen?” Fang Rui takes off his sunglasses to make himself easier to identify. He is promptly rewarded with a spark of recognition in those expressive eyes. Chen Guo is rather easy to read. She’s not very good at hiding her emotions. It is rather endearing in a young woman, but worrisome in a boss. He’ll reserve his judgment for now. Meanwhile, he keeps his face blank.

“Great Fang Rui, welcome! Please go up the stairs through here.” Chen Guo furtively greets him, looking back cautiously for any movement from the customers in the café, likely trying to detect whether his arrival is being noticed. Fang Rui immediately understands and follows Chen Guo nimbly after a quick nod.

Fang Rui’s sharp eyes immediately notice the pheromone neutralizer in the lobby. Its form and positioning are inconspicuous. Ordinary people would have thought it is a scent diffuser, which is not a wrong assumption, since it’s designed that way on purpose so betas who are not sensitive to pheromones cannot tell otherwise.

Neutralizer, as its name suggests, it’s to disperse the pheromones in the surrounding air to the point it’s near nonexistent. It’s particularly required in closed and private commercial spaces where people prefer to forgo scent blockers. One such example is the hotel rooms. That’s why he can easily make Ye Xiu believe he spent his rut alone, the neutralizer removed both his and Fang Rui’s scent (and the fact it had been his room, so Ye Xiu didn’t suspect why there were traces of lemon scent on the bed).

This is supposedly the room to receive guests. It is not a space where people commonly forgo scent blockers. Fang Rui takes another whiff of Chen Guo’s scent and he is sure that she’s a beta even through the scent blocker she wears. Betas don’t usually see the need for a neutralizer unless…

Fang Rui briefly pauses at the threshold to what’s supposed to be Happy’s actual home base, his sharp nose catching multiple, distinctive scents.

Pack.

Not an official pack, at least not yet, but it has the makings of a pack, nonetheless. Not only that their scents are not covered up around each other, they also intermingle harmoniously, indicating that they have unconsciously accepted each other as packmates.

Chen Guo notices his odd action, and if possible, she looks even more anxious. Fang Rui briefly smiles, trying to assuage her that there is nothing to be worried about, because it is indeed not. He also caught Chen Guo’s buttercup scent among them. He doesn’t expect the boss of the team to be a member of the pack. His eyes flick up toward the placards on the doors he passed by. So are the R&D and the guild departments.

Fang Rui takes note of these observations while guessing Happy’s grassroots background has a hand in the closeness of the members of the club not limited only to the team. Happy is unsurprisingly tiny in comparison to an established club like Wind Howl, it doesn’t take long before they reach the training room.

This time Fang Rui makes a visible effort to keep his mask up, because the moment he catches the familiar tea scent, his body gives such a visceral reaction that he’s never experienced before. His eyes are immediately drawn to those dark, fathomless eyes, only to find that Ye Xiu has been looking at him.

“Oh, here’s the Great Fang Rui. Welcome to Happy.” Ye Xiu stands up languidly, followed by the rest of Happy. “Let me introduce you to the members of our team.”

Fang Rui manages to pry his gaze away with difficulty to observe the members of Happy, easily matching each person with their scents thanks to them not wearing any scent blockers. He can barely hide his shock when he identifies a significant number of non-betas in the team, he counts at least four: Ye Xiu, Wei Chen, the rookies Qiao Yifan and Tang Rou. That Mo Fan’s scent is too vague, he can easily pass a beta. However, his instincts doubt that he is one. If it’s true, that makes more than a half of the team. Happy must be the team with the highest number of non-betas in the Alliance.

Still reeling at the discovery, Fang Rui is completely caught off guard at Ye Xiu’s direct offer to try Boundless Sea account. The man himself is already walking over with the account card.

“Isn’t this too soon!” Although Fang Rui has come over, he is still very hesitant.

“What else is there to do? You’ve basically finished the tour around Happy,” Ye Xiu says. Fang Rui becomes a witness of how a person can turn so red quickly. He cannot blame Chen Guo with how tiny Happy is, it only takes them a minute to finish touring the place.

“Drop the formalities and hurry up. We actually need to assess you to see if you have any future with your Qi Master’s skills. If you don’t, you might as well go back to your Thief!”

Fang Rui might be caught unprepared with how everything happened too quickly, but fortunately he has dealt with another Master Tactician before. And his approach is similar, albeit more polite and less direct. It’s not just himself who’s assessing Happy, Happy is also assessing him. After all, the risk goes both ways.

Unlike Chen Guo who is visibly panicking, Fang Rui doesn’t say anything further, merely picking the account card up from Ye Xiu, careful to avoid skin to skin contact. He briefly catches the look of surprise in Ye Xiu’s eyes. Fang Rui swipes the card and logs in.

“Who’s first?” Fang Rui expects one of the rookies, only to see Ye Xiu sitting down across from him. “What are you doing?”

“Rookie Ye Xiu would like to experience the Great Fang Rui’s Qi Master.” Ye Xiu speaks deeply.

Fang Rui bites back the expletives he would very much like to say. Rookie, my ass, he settles cursing inwardly.

“An unspecialized. Don’t you want to experience it?” Ye Xiu asks.

“Uh… then let’s play a round!” Fang Rui accepts after a short moment of thought, not wanting to seem too eager. He’s wanted to experience the unspecialized since witnessing the match between Lord Grim and Troubling Rain.

The two enter the arena in game. When Boundless Sea logs on, it naturally attracts a lot of attention, but since there is a password set for the room, people can only see where they head to without being able to enter, except for Happy. They rush over to their computers to log on and watch the match.

Fang Rui lost.

He isn’t surprised with the result. Against the unspecialized using Qi Master, Fang Rui doesn’t expect to win. If he was using Thief, he might stand a chance, but only a chance, not necessarily actually winning. Not to mention throughout Ye Xiu’s years in Excellent Era, Fang Rui rarely faced off against One Autumn Leaf alone. Fang Rui’s Doubtful Demon tended to play in individual matches or group arena as Wind Howl’s first or second player whereas Ye Xiu played as the group anchor, which made it rarer for them to encounter each other.

“Mm, not bad,” Fang Rui speaks with a calm expression, reviewing what he has learned of himself and Ye Xiu’s unspecialized from the exchange. He has turned on the recording and is currently looking back at certain points in the game.

“To last more than 2 minutes is not bad indeed.” Ye Xiu is also calm, but something in his tone makes Fang Rui look at him. He isn’t prepared for the pensive look in the other’s eyes. “You’re playing pretty well for someone who hasn't played as a Qi Master professionally.”

Suddenly it clicks. Fang Rui tilts his head and raises his eyebrow.

“You’ve come to me with such a crazy and absurd proposal, and you really expect me not to be curious?”

While Fang Rui couldn’t immediately go visit Happy as he liked since he needed to make arrangements for Fang Qiuyue should he stay longer than expected in Hangzhou, he did make use of the time to get familiar with Qi Master again. The last time he played as Qi Master, the highest level was Level 65. The Alliance has formidable Qi Master players, so he wasn’t behind in the changes in skills brought by the new updates, but he always studied them in the perspective of an opponent. So he borrowed a Qi Master account card from the Guild department and brought it to fight in the arena.

Relying on his mechanics and experience, Fang Rui has no difficulty winning against normal players even when playing another class. However, he could clearly see the disgusting mistakes he made.

Fang Rui was the master of playing dirty, but just because he was dirty didn't mean he had no pride. Switching classes could be a reasonable excuse, but he didn't want to lower his expectations for himself because of this excuse. If he lost his heart, he would only lose again and again. So he kept playing until he could feel satisfied with his own performance. It might not mean much against another pro player with the same or better mechanics and experience, but he knows how to bring out his best Qi Master’s performance while he’s still very much used to a Thief’s decision-making habits.

“Is that so?” Ye Xiu gives him one of those inscrutable smiles that makes everyone think he’s scheming something. Fang Rui cannot help but throw him a flat, unimpressed look at that smile. “Luo Ji, come here.” Ye Xiu stands up and gestures to one of the rookies.

“Eh eh! Me?” Luo Ji, the Summoner player, glances uneasily at the companions around him. Of all the rookies, he looks the most normal. Recalling Happy’s lineups in Challenger’s League, Fang Rui is quite certain he’s the least experienced one. He can guess Ye Xiu’s intention.

“What are you afraid of? He lost against Boss. Hurry and fight!” The tall blond nicknamed Steamed Bun supposedly cheers him on, but to Fang Rui, he comes off a bit bullying the poor Luo Ji. The younger man also must have seen the obvious gap in his companion’s logic. Just because Fang Rui lost against Ye Xiu, it doesn’t mean he’s an easy opponent. He finds himself wanting to make the young man at ease, so Fang Rui smiles brightly at Luo Ji.

“Come on, I don’t bite. Now you have the first honor to fight against the Great Fang Rui’s Qi Master, second only to your captain. Steamed Bun can’t boast about it, can he?” It seems he says the right thing, Luo Ji’s eyes brighten up.

“Y-yes!” Luo Ji finally takes his seat across from Fang Rui.

“Like he said. Give him the honor to fight against your Summoner for the first time.” Ye Xiu pats Luo Ji’s shoulder. Fang Rui rolls his eyes, but he faintly senses Ye Xiu’s approval, which Fang Rui cannot help but take note of, not mentioning the warmth in his chest.

Starting from Luo Ji, Fang Rui is thrust into a rotating battle session against Happy’s entire roster. In the first round, Luo Ji was surprisingly his only win. Against the veterans Su Mucheng and Wei Chen, he knew he had no chance, but against the rest of the rookies, he found himself overwhelmed, resorting to Thief moves subconsciously which left flaws in his playing that none of them overlooked. Within one round, Fang Rui confirmed the strength of Happy’s rookies were above normal players, and they were also the best polishing stone for him to bring up the level of his Qi Master beyond normal players. He gradually adjusted to the class, and his win rate steadily increased.

“As expected of the class-changing expert!” Ye Xiu says, standing up. This round, Ye Xiu’s Lord Grim lost to Fang Rui’s Boundless Sea.

“What class-changing expert?” Fang Rui scoffs. He maintains that his earlier classes weren’t changing classes, but rather choosing a class in the first place. With this victory against Ye Xiu, Fang Rui feels as though he has just successfully achieved a major accomplishment. He stretches and casually glances at the clock. What he sees makes him jump in shock.

Three hours. It has been three hours.

Fang Rui has completely forgotten the time. He has been so immersed in Glory, his mind has been filled only with the thoughts of how to play with Qi Master in his hands and defeat this whole crowd of Happy players. And during these three hours he barely rested while Happy has been rotating its members.

“You made too many mistakes in this match,” Fang Rui observes. During the game, he found it odd, but he didn’t linger at the thought. Now that he realized how much time has passed, he wondered whether it was intentional.

“You’re right. After seeing you play so hard, I truly couldn’t bear it anymore, so I went a little easy on you,” says Ye Xiu.

“Wanna give it another go?” Fang Rui’s tone is calm and pleasant, but he can’t hide the threat underneath. Seriously, this guy doesn’t even pretend to hide it. He doesn’t notice how Happy instinctively inches back at his tone, thanks to the object of his ire. Ye Xiu truly draws aggro like no one else.

“Don’t be like that, let’s eat first and then go again!” Ye Xiu raises his hands placatingly.

Fang Rui stares blankly. Only now he realizes how hungry he is, no wonder he reacts so strongly. Since having Fang Qiuyue, it’s rare for him to eat at regular times and now that she’s getting around, he also expends more energy lately that he often snacks whenever he can. Another reason for that is that he nearly lost his temper once because he was so hungry, not having learned to manage his time well yet.

Chen Guo has already made dinner plans for all of them, making a reservation at a nearby, relatively nice restaurant. All of Happy heads over, as well as Fang Rui.

At the table, Fang Rui doesn’t say much. His appetite seems fairly normal. After quickly eating his fill, he plays around with the straw in his drink. Ye Xiu takes it as a cue to start talking to Fang Rui. Well, to be precise, negotiating with him as if he has agreed to join Happy.

Fang Rui’s expression remains unreadable while inside he’s reeling at the sheer audacity, shamelessness of Glory’s Number One for many years. And he was supposed to be the master of playing dirty. He really has nothing against Ye Xiu. He has to bite down laughter when Ye Xiu’s bargaining effort is accidentally undermined by the server.

Despite his inner complaints, he doesn’t really hate it, he’s actually impressed. Ye Xiu’s insistence gives away how much Happy needs him. All of Happy merely sprayed scent blocker on themselves when they went out for dinner, so Fang Rui still could take cues from their scent alongside their body language, regardless of their secondary genders. Happy are nervous, hopeful, expectant.

Unexpectedly, Ye Xiu is the hardest to read in the room, even compared to the betas. It is only his familiarity from their previous exchanges, while they were wearing scent blockers, that Fang Rui can make vague guesses of his thoughts.

Happy is really not bad, better than he expected, but something about this still doesn’t sit well in his heart. And he hasn’t even brought up the matter of secondary genders and packs. He really should have started with that like Xiao Shiqin. He had the right idea of getting the hardest topic out first. Not knowing what to say, but also not wanting the silence to drag on, Fang Rui tosses an ordinary question: “How did you all come together anyway?”

“Us?” Ye Xiu blinks, and then casually goes around the room, describing all of their backstories to Fang Rui. It was intended to lighten up the atmosphere, but as he gets his answer, he realizes what is worrying him about Happy.

“How many more years do you plan on playing?”

“Me?” Ye Xiu says.

“Yes, you!” Fang Rui says.

“I hope I can continue to play forever!” Ye Xiu says.

“But we both know that’s impossible,” Fang Rui says. “Especially for you, playing an unspecialized, that’s a heavy burden on you, and it will definitely shorten the lifespan of your career. The fact that you’ve been able to maintain this condition up until now is already a miracle in my eyes. But, how much longer can you maintain it? One year? Two years?”

Fang Rui is alarmed at the reactions his words garnered, the way their scents spike, their eyes whip towards Ye Xiu, as if the possibility never occurs to them. His eyes are particularly drawn to Su Mucheng by Ye Xiu’s side. There’s no change in her scent, but there’s a brief glance towards Ye Xiu. And Ye Xiu…

“This… who can say for sure?” Ye Xiu says.

The non-answer is actually an answer by itself. But somehow, Fang Rui has the impression that Ye Xiu has known exactly how long he can play professionally. However, it’s a matter for another time.

“Then, after you retire, what about Team Happy?” It can be said Fang Rui has grasped the complete picture of Team Happy, and their reliance on Ye Xiu. He’s looking for a permanent home for himself and Fang Qiuyue. He cannot choose a team that will disperse after Ye Xiu’s departure, which might be as soon as this new season ends. He cannot and will not make Ye Xiu stay either. He might be better off picking Thunderclap so as to not influence Ye Xiu’s choice.

Ye Xiu throws the question to Chen Guo. Fang Rui doesn’t only pay attention to her answer but also her attitude, particularly her resolve. He wants to see how ready she is for the worst case scenario should Ye Xiu won’t stay in Happy, and the members won’t leave. Tang Rou’s background certainly throws him off, but Chen Guo’s further emphasis on Tang Rou as an ordinary player doesn’t assuage his worry. It shows how little she understands how much of a wildcard Tang Rou is. She belongs to herself and herself alone.

Fang Rui truly admires her for that, especially when he strongly suspects that she’s a rare female alpha. Her secondary gender is also a cause of concern. If Chen Guo knows but doesn’t care, it does show she’s a good person, but sometimes good people become wholly and poorly prepared when they realize not everyone sees the world the way they do. Good people don't necessarily make good bosses. Fang Rui cannot say this openly. He knows how precious people like Chen Guo are, he can understand why Ye Xiu picks her as his boss after the mess that is Excellent Era. However, would it be a cruelty to bring her into the commercialized Alliance?

Ye Xiu finally chooses this moment to speak up.

“Happy’s future will be shaped by its players. You only want to be a spectator, taking a ride and reaping the profits? That’s just too dirty, too shameless! Do you dare to come with us to build the future together? Do you dare come with us to face your so-called unimaginable temptations of money and status?”

His words are such a slap to the face. He’s dirty and shameless, but not that dirty and shameless to expect the path to the future to be laid down before his feet for him to walk on. He has been the one to forge his own path. From forming his own team to fight in the Challenger’s League, to joining the training camp in Blue Rain, to becoming the vice captain and core player of Wind Howl that finally leads him to be top tier God with his own title. He wants to chide himself. Where does that bold, daring Fang Rui go? Before doubting others, shouldn’t he first strengthen his own resolve? If everyone works together, and creates a unified team, there is no need to worry this much. If people leave, then more will come to replace them.

That’s right. That’s how it should be. He nods to himself.

Which means, all that’s left…

“Ye Xiu.” Ye Xiu snaps up in surprise, meeting his eyes. It’s the first time Fang Rui has addressed him by name throughout this visit. Catching the weight in his gaze, Ye Xiu’s expression turns solemn.

“The Excellent Era team that has been with you from the beginning…” Fang Rui pauses. “They’re your pack, aren’t they?” Fang Rui has his eyes fixed on Ye Xiu, but he pays attention to the others in his periphery, wanting to know how many who are aware of the significance of a pack.

“...Yes.” Ye Xiu’s answer is slow, careful.

“Is Happy your pack, too?” Ye Xiu inhales sharply. Because he doesn’t look away, Fang Rui clearly catches the flash of raw, unadulterated longing in his eyes, however brief it is.

Oh, Ye Xiu.

Fang Rui’s heart breaks for him. Even if he doesn’t end up joining Happy, he can do this for him. He draws himself up and breathes deep before addressing the entirety of Happy, though his gaze lands on one person.

“Boss Chen, do you know what a pack is?”

“I… I’m not sure.” Chen Guo stammers. It’s no good, Chen Guo is not the only one who's nervous.

“Don’t be nervous. There’s no right or wrong answer.” Fang Rui smiles warmly, calmly peeling off the scent blockers on his wrists, purposefully spreading his pheromone within the room.

“Ah.” Fang Rui doesn’t react to the sound, in the case the person(s) doesn’t want to be revealed yet. Regardless, the calming effect works for everyone, including beta Chen Guo, who seems to be less nervous now.

“I always think packs are like found families.”

“Really?” Fang Rui is pleasantly surprised. That’s actually not only the most positive, but also the most accurate description a beta can come up with.

“Well…I’m raised in a pack.” Chen Guo speaks shyly, hesitantly. Not realizing what an earth-shattering revelation it is.

“My father didn’t raise me alone. They are my father’s friends and workers in the cafe. They don’t say that we’re pack, but I think we are. They like to… be affectionate with me? Nothing improper of course! And give me things that remind me of them? So I never felt alone even when my father was busy. I was able to pick myself up after my father’s death thanks to them. His friends made sure I can take care of myself, while his old workers taught me all I needed to know to continue the internet cafe. We have a gathering at least once a year, but there is always one Aunt or Uncle who drops by to check on me.”

“By chance, do you have the gift from them with you?” Fang Rui asks.

“Yes.” Without further prompting, Chen Guo takes out a necklace from under her shirt. From the distance, it’s faint, but he catches multiple scents on the hand-woven, colorful necklace with beads. Fang Rui finds himself smiling softly, glad to see that there are people still preserving pack culture in Hangzhou.

“Indeed, you have such good packmates, Boss Chen.”

“It’s… not that simple, isn’t it?” Chen Guo holds the necklace protectively. She might not understand, but she likely picks up on how her pack avoids calling themselves pack.

“Found family… might be the description that comes close. In that packs are not necessarily made up of blood relations, in that they are formed and stayed together by choice, but with the complexity, or to be precise, the nuances that the secondary gender brings.”

“Humans are social creatures. This is common knowledge.” He particularly checks the university students whether it’s still taught that way in their schools. He sees both An Wenyi and Luo Ji nod. “However, what many aren’t aware of, we cannot form social bonds with just anyone. That’s where secondary gender comes in. Well, there are some arguments about that but I won’t dwell into that. Regardless of this difference of opinion, all agree that secondary gender does make it easier to form social bonds. Alpha, beta, omega. What comes to mind when you hear of them?” Fang Rui directs the question to Steamed Bun.

“Alpha strong? Beta normal? Omega weak?” The tall beta scratches head. Steamed Bun is a good indicator of what the general populace thinks.

“Just that?”

“Sensitive to pheromones,” An Wenyi states.

“Ruts and heats,” comes Qiao Yifan’s quiet answer.

“In general, not a particularly good impression of non-betas huh.” Fang Rui concludes. “Let me ask you something, have you ever felt that at a first meeting, you just know, with such certainty, that you’ll get along with them or that you won’t at all?”

“Oh. I have!” Steamed Bun might be the loudest, but he’s not the only one who has experienced it.

“That’s your instincts speaking.” Fang Rui put his scent blockers back on, seeing how he has their full attention now. “Alpha: leader, beta: mediator, omega: supporter. They are ultimately roles. We cannot have everyone as leaders, right? There needs to be someone who follows. You can say alpha, beta and omega is our natural state of being. We will be drawn to people of different roles and characteristics than us, to complement each other, to create a pack.

“A good and balanced pack generally consists of all the secondary genders: alpha, beta and omega with alpha as the pack leader. If there’s no alpha, the pack leader can be beta or omega. Even if it’s incomplete, there will always be someone taking the role of alpha, beta or omega.” Fang Rui pauses, taking a sip of water to wet his throat.

“In conclusion, packs will happen naturally, regardless if it's recognized as pack or not. Because packs are a necessity. Not merely for survival, but also for health and safety, particularly for non-betas: alphas and omegas.” Chen Guo looks alarmed at this, glancing at Tang Rou, confirming that she does know of her secondary gender.

“Unlike general assumption, ruts for alpha and heats for omega are not purely sexual. It can be suppressed–soothed may be the better word–with the scent of their pack in their nest, and better with the presence of their pack, particularly with the omega of their pack. Their sexual urges can be satisfied with closeness and intimacy. A partner–sexual partner or bonded mate–is not necessary to get through the cycle, though definitely more effective. The current method to control ruts and heats is to use suppressants, which are technically drugs, and you know what they say about them.”

“Too much is bad for health,” Wei Chen speaks gruffly, already pinching a cigarette in his mouth. Fang Rui recognizes it as a nervous tic, but he feels there’s a story behind that.

“In a society that doesn’t acknowledge secondary genders, that forces all of us to wear scent blockers, how do you think the non-betas are treated?”

“Badly,” it is Su Mucheng who answers. “To the point they will hide their secondary gender at all costs, even if it's their own health.” Her gaze is fierce, but her lips visibly tremble. Fang Rui has a feeling she’s not only speaking of Ye Xiu.

“...what is the worst slur you can call a person?” Fang Rui continues.

“An omega to a man, and an alpha to a woman.” It is Tang Rou who answers, smiling wryly.

“Neither a man nor an omega. Neither a woman nor an alpha.” Fang Rui returns her smile, knowing they recognize each other.

“In the end, packs exist to make sure everyone has a place where they belong, where they are fully accepted without judgment and reservation, where they can be fully safe and protected, where they can simply be.” Fang Rui lets them soak it all in, knowing it’s a lot to take in, even for the non-betas themselves. Unless they have fellow non-betas in their immediate family, it’s more likely they’re as uninformed as most people of their own gender. When enough time has passed, he drops in casually.

“I’m a male omega. I’m not only looking for a team, I’m also looking for a pack.” Shock ripples throughout the room.

“Boss Chen,” Fang Rui leans forward, making Chen Guo draw herself up unconsciously. “I’m proud of being an omega. Should it come out, I won’t hide who I am. However, it means as the boss of the team, you won’t only bear the pressure from Glory fans, but the society as whole. Can you do it?” Chen Guo gapes, completely taken off guard.

“I’m not saying this to scare you.” Fang Rui softens his approach. “I know that Happy needs me and that Happy has great potential, and honestly, I’d love to join you. However, you need to know what you’re getting into if you do have me in the team. Because if I join you, Happy will be the only and last team for me.”

Fang Rui has his gaze on everyone but Ye Xiu, acutely aware of how his attention never strays away from himself and how he maintains watchful silence, which admittedly makes him nervous. Meanwhile, he wars with himself whether this is the right time to reveal the true reason for making whatever team he’ll join as his last. However, he’s come this far, so he carefully regulates his breathing and his emotions.

“The reason for that… is that I have a child.” This time everyone in the room freezes.

#quan zhi gao shou #the king's avatar #TKA #qzgs #Fang Rui #ye xiu #yefang #omegaverse #fanfiction #au #alternate universe #the moon in autumn #tmia

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livingforthewhump · 2 years

Text

Irish Mafia Part Two

(please someone help me come up with a better name 😭😭)

part one is here

—

Kelsey woke up unsettlingly comfortable. They shifted, feeling blankets wrapped around them before they cracked their eyes open. Patrick was sitting in a chair beside them, they noticed with a start. He was reading that same book from earlier. And they were…in a bed.

They tried to bring their arms under them to prop them up, only to make a noise of indignation when they couldn’t move them. They were swaddled in blankets like a baby.

“You’re injured. You shouldn’t be moving around,” Patrick said without looking up.

Kelsey glowered at him, ignoring that note in his voice that was nearing concern. “This is extremely unprofessional. The boss will have your head—”

“I don’t give a damn what Devon is or isn’t going to do.” Patrick snapped the book shut in emphasis. When he set it aside, his eyes turned to bore into Kelsey, sharp and perceptive. They found that they preferred it when he was reading. “This is about you.”

“Don’t give me that shtick,” Kelsey scoffed. “It’s never about me, and you’re not going to trick me into thinking you care again. I’ve been manipulated enough.”

Patrick regarded them steadily. “Yes, you have.”

Somehow, the answer surprised them. They didn’t know what to make of it. Patrick leaned back with a sigh and grabbed a glass of whiskey they hadn’t noticed before. The amber color set Kelsey even more off edge—Patrick had developed his taste after the boss’. Watching him drink it hit too close to home.

“Care to tell me why my little sibling is gallivanting around while wounded?”

“It wasn’t bleeding,” Kelsey murmured defensively, then their hackles reared. “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”

“You’re not exactly in a position for offense,” Patrick commented coolly. “In fact, you were running a fever high enough to give you brain damage without treatment a few hours ago. You shouldn’t have been sent on an assignment.”

“So now I suppose I’m indebted to you,” Kelsey drawled, trying to wiggle their arms free with as much dignity as possible.

Patrick laid a heavy hand on their shoulder. “Stop that. If you start bleeding again you’ll be stuck here for a week.”

Kelsey went still. A shock of fear ran through them, making them shudder. They hadn’t considered that they were entirely at his mercy. “I’ve been trained to hold out under torture, you know,” they gritted out, forcing their voice to be a lot bolder than they felt.

Patrick looked at them with an expression they couldn’t read. “Have you,” he said quietly, but the words were all the harsher for it. There was a hidden edge in them, surely promising that no, they hadn’t been trained nearly enough for whatever he had planned. Kelsey wracked their mind for a suitable response, but they were too confused by the whole situation. Everything was nothing like and exactly like what they’d prepared for, but not in a way they were prepared to deal with it.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Patrick asked suddenly, in that same soft, dark voice he always seemed to use.

Kelsey grit their teeth, fighting back an eye roll. “You know, for all you’ve tried to distance yourself from the boss, you sure take after him. He would be proud, I’m sure.”

Patrick’s hand slammed down on the bed beside them, and suddenly his face was inches away from their own, dark with anger. “Don’t compare me to that lowlife. I am nothing like him.”

Kelsey flinched, staring up at him with wide eyes before they remembered to narrow them in defiance. It wasn’t easy, purposefully antagonizing the brother they had always looked up to so much. Despite the fact that he left them, and they hated him now, they still felt like each word against him was tearing through a part of them, separating them further.

Their eyes were burning with unexpected tears, and they glared at the blankets in an attempt to beat them back. How humiliating, to pout like a toddler in front of the person who likely still saw them as one. The person who, against all odds, they were still trying to earn the respect of.

“You’re right,” Kelsey whispered huskily. “He would never betray his own.”

Patrick didn’t respond to that. They felt him simmering in his anger, just outside of their line of vision, but they didn’t want to look at him anymore. He had hurt them enough.

Finally, Patrick breathed out forcefully. “I’ll have some food sent in for you. Get some rest. You need it.”

The door slammed shut on his way out.

—

Tagging people who expressed interest, lmk if you don’t want to be tagged or if you do: @someoneonearth2007 @hurting-fictional-people @villainsvictim

#patrick is…doing his best #he has a lot of things he needs to process poor guy #it would be helpful if he could communicate Even a Little Bit though #irish mafia series #my oc: kelsey #my oc: patrick #whump recovery #angst #sibling whump #past trauma #only hinted at :))))#implied torture #if you squint #though it is there! and we will delve deeper into that on a later date #pushy caretaker #stoic caretaker

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

Note

could u write a drarry oneshot inspired by sweet creature of harry styles? :)

Hello Nonnie! I absolutely can. This is a great suggestion, I love this song for Drarry. I hope you enjoy it. Warnings: injury, drinking, attempted sexual assault that is VERY QUICKLY STOPPED and NOT H/D!!! Thank you to @apr1cots for the beta!

3 Times Harry Brought Draco Home...+1 Time Draco Brought Harry Home

The first time, Harry found him in the cafe near their flat.

He sat down in the chair across from Draco, who glared at him over his cup of tea. "I thought I told you not to follow me."

"I waited three hours. I figured that would be enough time for you to come to your senses, but you didn't come back, so I got worried."

"I can handle myself, thanks."

"I know you can. But you didn't tell me where you went."

Draco's eyes flashed. "That was for a reason, you imbecile."

Harry shook his head. "Flatmates don't do that—disappear for three hours after a fight without saying where they’ve gone."

"I'm an adult. And you're not my father or my boyfriend, so back off."

"No, but I am your friend. And your flatmate. And I don't want to be worried sick for three hours when you fuck off to Merlin knows where because you're feeling pissy!" Harry snapped, letting his anger creep into his voice.

Draco sighed. He took a moment to sip his tea, and then he looked at Harry. "I'll tell you what. If we fight, and I don't return, send an owl, Floo or contact you in some way within six hours, you can send out a bloody search party."

Harry shook his head. “I will give you three hours.”

“Five”

“Three and a half.”

“Four and a half.”

“Four is my final offer.”

Draco scoffed. “Is that so? What are you going to do, show up with half the Auror department?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Not if I don’t have to. But I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Care to find out?”

“You’re mental.”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged. “Trouble is, I don’t care. Now, will you be here for a while, or are you coming home with me?”

“I suppose I'll go, but only since I've already finished my tea,” Draco said with another sigh, which Harry ignored as they both rose from their seats. While they walked to the Apparition point together, Harry replayed in his mind the flicker of emotion on Draco’s face when he said “home.”

The second time, Harry’s glass nearly shattered in his hand from how firmly he was gripping it.

He ignored Hermione’s knowing gaze and Ron’s eye roll as he unabashedly stared daggers at the bloke practically groping Draco at the bar. Harry saw Draco’s eyes widen imperceptibly, noticed his smile falter and his cheekbone twitch.

Yes, he observed this from across the room. You get to know a bloke after living with him for almost a year; besides, Harry was very perceptive—constant vigilance and all that.

Speaking of being an Auror, Harry was pretty sure this prick was breaking some sort of public indecency laws by the way he was sliding his hand further and further up Draco’s leg. Draco gently pried the man’s hand from his thigh, only for the stranger to laugh and reach over again, gripping it even more firmly.

Harry didn’t think beyond getting up from his seat and striding toward the bar, quickening his pace when he saw Draco’s eyes widen in panic. He barely registered the look of horror on the stranger’s face when he grabbed the hand gripping Draco’s thigh and pinned the man face-down on the bar.

“He said no,” Harry said through clenched teeth, ignoring the man’s grunts and protests.

“We were just talking!” The man sputtered, his cheek pressed against the counter as he twisted and wriggled to get free.

Harry tightened his grip. “Conversation’s over. If I catch you trying to ‘talk’ to him again, I’ll make sure you have a nice chat with the Wizengamot about sexual assault. Now, apologize.”

“But—”

“Apologize!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

Harry smirked. “Good.” He released the man’s arm and let him right himself. The man froze, looking between Harry and Draco expectantly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Leave. Now.”

The man nodded, scurrying out of the now silent bar, the bell attached to the door tinkling behind him.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Draco’s face was blank other than a raised eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. But I am glad you’re okay. You are, right? He didn’t hurt you?” Harry’s chest tightened at the suggestion.

But Draco shook his head. “No, I’m fine. But I think that’s my sign to head home.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine to Floo.”

“I want to.”

“What about your friends?”

Harry cringed and turned back to face the table to see Ron and Hermione looking at him, expressions full of nausea and amusement, respectively. He held up a hand in a small wave. Hermione shook her head and smiled fondly.

Harry grinned and turned back to Draco. “They’ll be alright without me. C’mon, let’s go home. I’ll make us some tea, yeah?”

Draco hesitated at first, but he nodded. And if Harry let his hand linger lightly on Draco’s back when they headed toward the Floo, they could both chalk it up to a safety measure.

The door to Pansy Parkinson’s flat swung open before Harry could knock.

She took one look at him and rolled her eyes. “Could you have taken any longer to get here?”

Harry bristled. “I was—”

“Don’t care. Get in here, he’s on my couch.” She turned and walked away purposefully, and Harry trailed behind her.

“I thought you two were just going for drinks?”

Pansy sighed. “We were, but then we came back here for a few more, and he got into my tequila when my back was turned.” She shook her head. “Tequila is his one weakness—well,” she smirked. “One of them, anyway.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to respond when a shout sounded from the living room.

He looked over to see Draco sprawled across the couch, an empty glass in one hand and the other nearly touching the floor, his leather-clad legs spread wide.

Draco grinned at Harry. “Harrryyy!!! Come to join the party?”

“He’s come to end it, more like,” Pansy crossed her arms. “It’s time for you to go home, love.”

Draco let out a high, keening whine and burrowed himself further into the couch. “Don’ wanna. Tired. Stay here.”

“No, Draco, we’ve got to go home,” Harry walked up to the couch. His breath caught when gray eyes blinked wide and pleadingly up at him.

Draco held out his arms. “Up.”

“Er, what?”

Draco jerked his arms up and down, keeping them in the air. “Up! Help me up, you great oaf!”

Harry sighed and bent down, taking Draco in his arms and nearly stumbling when the blond let his body weight fall into him.

Draco smirked lazily. “Oops,” he said with a grin in his voice. “Guess you gotta carry me.”

Harry scoffed, looking to Pansy for appeal.

She waved a hand dismissively. “He’s your problem, now. Just get him out of my flat and back home intact, will you?” She didn’t wait for him to respond, walking away into another room.

Harry sighed. He wasn’t sure about the safety of Apparating or taking the Floo with someone in your arms, and the twists and turns of the Knight Bus could make a sober person sick up. With a grunt, he hoisted Draco up and into his arms bridal style, and the other man yelped and then giggled wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Home,” Draco said softly, and affection spread through Harry’s chest.

“Okay, Draco,” Harry whispered as they made their way out of the flat. “I’ve got you.”

+1.

Harry woke to the sound of muffled voices shouting at each other and the constant beep of a monitor.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wincing as a sharp pain exploded in his side with the effort. Memories came rushing back: the raid, turning his back for a split second to shout something at Ron, blinding pain, then darkness. He tried to sit up in the hospital bed, but he let himself lie back down when his side throbbed once more.

Suddenly, the door was opened and then promptly slammed shut. “Honestly, the nerve of these people. If he needs bed rest, then where is better than his own bed? Is my Healer degree rendered meaningless the moment I’m off the clock?” Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair as he paced the room angrily.

“Draco?”

Draco jumped and turned to Harry with wild, startled eyes that made Harry laugh, and then wince in pain.

“You’re awake, thank Merlin,” Draco approached the side of the bed, relief replacing the shock on his face.

“How long have I been out?”

“Two days. You were hit with a rare curse that caused an ever-bleeding wound in your side, and the healers had to put you in a magically induced coma to reverse it.”

“That sounds good. Do Robards and—”

“Yes, Ron gave Robards the full briefing. You’re not expected in the office until a Healer permits it.”

“So, can I go home?”

“Yes, now that you’re awake, you can go home. I’ll monitor you from there.”

Harry frowned. “You don’t have to.”

Draco let out a short, humorless chuckle. “You were in a coma for two days, Harry. The only reason they’re discharging you is that you’re going home with a Healer.”

“But you don’t actually have to stay and watch me all day, right?”

“What part of ‘I’ll monitor you from there’ don’t you understand?”

“But I’m fi-!” The last word was cut off as Harry hissed through another spark of pain.

“Fine, are you?”

“Shut up.”

Draco smirked. “Not likely.”

Harry scowled, eliciting a real laugh from Draco, who moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Flatmates don’t do this, y’know.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Take several days off of work to care for the other when they’re injured. I’m not even sure friends do that.”

Harry noticed Draco’s jaw tighten. He ached to reach up and relax it with a gentle touch, but he kept his hand at his side.

“What are you saying, Harry?” Draco asked, his voice low and even.

“I’ll tell you what,” Harry swallowed. “I won’t argue about you wasting days away from work if you let me take you to dinner when I’ve recovered.”

The beginning of a smile curved Draco’s lips. “And what will we do in the meantime?”

Harry waggled his eyebrows. “I can think of a few ways to pass the time.”

Draco chuckled. “If you think I’m missing work just so you wind up back in here because you restarted bleeding during sex, you’ve another thing coming.”

Harry pouted halfheartedly. “Apparently I won’t be coming at all.”

Draco mimicked his petulant frown. “Aww, ickle Harry, being waited on for days by his flatmate-turned-boyfriend.”

“I’ll tell you what—”

“Didn’t we already make a deal?”

“I’ll tell you what: I won’t argue about you missing work or not having sex until I’m recovered if you let me take you to dinner once I’m healed and if we can snog as much as we like.”

"What makes you think I’ll agree to those terms?”

Harry shrugged. “If you don’t like those terms, I can come up with more. Now that I’m on bed rest, I’ve got plenty of time to think.”

“You’re not supposed to strain yourself,” Draco smirked when Harry glared at him.

Harry huffed. “You need to work on your bedside manner, Healer Malfoy.”

“I’ll get plenty of practice this week, then, won’t I?”

“Yes, you will. Now, can we get out of here? I want to start my healing regimen right away.”

Draco laughed and laced their fingers together. “Alright, Harry. Let’s go home.”

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

Note

I don't know if I've Talked to you yet? But may i get Nagito with a Talentless! S/o who's a Degradee. So whenever He Gets angry and Talks about her because of her talent. She's attracted to it. But is able to hide it for a while. But one day she slips up ane admit she likes it to hajime and nagito happens to overhear it. (I'd love a Nsfw Fic) if your open.

ミ☆ Thanks for the request! This was very interesting for me to write because i dont usually make Komaeda so.......mean. It does get pretty filthy so i hope that’s okay ahah. Word Count: 2882

Warnings: Fem reader, no pronouns, explicit sexual content, degradation, possessive behaviour

You’re not sure that Komaeda’s insults are having their desired effect.

Generally, the other students of class 77-B treat you perfectly well, even kindly. You’d braided Sonia’s hair for her once when it was windy and getting in her eyes, after that she seemed to take a liking to you and started inviting you to eat lunch with her in the main course building. At first you were very nervous, shaking as you lurked in the doorway, holding your bento box between your quivering hands.

But then, “Good afternoon, everyone! I’d like you all to meet my new friend!” Sonia said brightly, and everything sort of fell into place.

Everything except Komaeda.

Presently, he has you backed up against a wall, one hand pressed up beside your head. He’s quite a bit taller than you, and has to crane his head down when his lip curls up in disgust. You aren’t really sure what his problem is, but he finds a way to antagonise you almost every day. Like he’s trying to convince you to snap. It isn’t working, but it is doing something else.

“How much did your parents pay, huh?” He whispers, voice eerily delicate even as his eyes burn with vitriol, “How much did you sacrifice just so you could pretend to be worth something?”

Your mouth has gone dry. Your eyes flit around his face, trying too hard not to focus on the subtle movement of his lips.

“Ah, are you too afraid to answer? Afraid of what I might think of you?”

You are not afraid.

Komaeda leans in closer, lips curling up in a snarl, “you mustn’t concern yourself with such things.“

You are something far worse than that.

“My opinion of you will remain less than dirt regardless of your answer.”

You are aroused and a pathetic little moan breaks away from your mouth at the feeling of his breath on your face, at his closeness, and the way he leers down at you like you are nothing more than a nuisance to him. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lower lip and you whine .

He laughs, mistaking the sound for one of fear, “The only reason I don’t pull you from our classroom and lock the door behind you, is because Sonia seems to enjoy your company. I’m sure her little fancy will not last long.” He smiles, “so make the most of the honour while it lasts.”

Komaeda leans back from you, and it feels like you can finally catch your breath again. Trying your hardest to ignore the way your heart is racing and just how wet your panties are getting. He does not seem to notice, lips curling up in a smirk that makes your breath hitch as he turns on his heel.

He did not notice the effect he was having on you. Far too concerned with trying to get you away from the rest of his ultimate classmates before you have a chance to dirty them with your pathetic presence. After all, even he was above you and that was saying something. Komaeda leaves you quivering in the hallway and heads back through the open door of classroom 77-B, but the sound of running feet brings him pause. He closes the door most of the way, leaving it open enough that he can watch through the gap without you noticing.

“Hey.” Hinata says breathlessly, coming to a stop where you are still leaning against the wall, “I saw Komaeda bothering you, are you alright?”

Komaeda scoffs. Hinata is just as much a problem as you are, always hanging around Nanami-san like it’s his given right.

“Huh?” You say, still noticeably shaking, “oh I’m fine.”

Komaeda smirks. If asked, he would claim that he only harassed you for the good of his fellow classmates; he would not admit the exhiliarion he feels in the moments when he finally gets to be better than someone. When he has you up against a wall like that, when he talks down to you like that. He feels something in his gut. A twisting that feels almost euphoric.

Hinata huffs and crosses his arms, “look, that guy's an asshole. I can see you shaking, did he threaten you or something?”

“No! Not really? I’m just…..uh…..” Komaeda can see you twisting your hands with nerves, his brows draw together in confusion, “I think I…like it…”

Hinata balks, “wait. What?” He hisses, and Komaeda is thinking something very similar.

“When he’s mean to me like that.” You breathe, chewing on your lower lip, “when he has me up against the wall I...feel...good…”

“No. Stop. Please.” Hinata exclaims, waving his hands in front of his face, “look, we’ve got to get to class. I don’t want to hear anymore about this. Okay?”

Komaeda’s breath is caught in his throat as he watches the both of you walking back down the hall. Horrified at the tightness in his crotch. He whirls around and leans back on the wall, cupping a hand over his mouth to hide his heavy breathing.

Those little noises you were making, the way you were shaking beneath him.

This had not been his intention.

Though, he supposes he can entertain the idea. Just to see how you react. It might even be fun.

A few days later, you are back in the mostly vacant classroom with Sonia and Ibuki, the latter is in the middle of painting the nails on your right hand.

“I know you said you don't really like this colour, but it glows in the dark, so that makes up for it, rigggggght?” Ibuki says; her nailpolish skills are lacking so your fingers are a bit of a mess, but you’re having fun anyway.

“I think i might scare myself tonight when i turn the lights off and my fingers start glowing.” you laugh, Sonia titters politely behind her hand, but her expression quickly changes.

“Oh.” She says, looking over your shoulder, “Hello, Nagito.”

You freeze. Throat going dry. You are not prepared for another encounter with Komaeda.

“Ah, Hello. It’s nice to see the both of you.” He says. It does not escape your notice that he purposefully didn't even acknowledge your presence.

“Don’t get too close naggy-waggy.” Ibuki replies, tongue sticking out as she starts painting the nails on your other hand, “I must focus on my art!”

A shiver runs up your spine when you feel the warmth of another body behind you. Komaeda leans over your shoulder to look down at your nails as Ibuki paints them, you can feel his breath on the side of your neck, you can smell him. He smells really good, why does he have to smell so good?

“You’ve improved a lot since your last attempt, Mioda-san.” Komaeda says, you can practically feel the words on your skin.

Ibuki laughs, “Kaz was a very good sport when I spilled it all over his arms! Plus! He was glowing for three days straight and i actually think it looked pretty sick!!!”

“You're very lucky to have someone as wonderful as Mioda-san do your nails.” Komaeda breathes, you turn your head just a little. His face is so close to yours, his lips quirked up in the corners just enough that you know he is mocking you. Then, as he finally begins to stand back up again, he whispers in your ear, “after all, you’re just a pathetic reserve course student, aren't you?”

You feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you swear it can't be intentional, but a shudder runs through you so powerful that you accidentally bump the nailpolish out of Ibuki’s hand.

You are too busy trying to help her and Sonia clean up the mess, to notice the way Komaeda looks back, hands in his pockets and smirking at how easy it was to rattle you.

Yes, he thinks. This will be fun.

It continues like this for some time. Komaeda is always lingering close to you, whispering in your ear. He’s always loved watching you squirm, but now it feels like he is doing more often, more shamelessly. After weeks of what feels like almost endless torment, something finally snaps.

You’re dashing down the hall at lunch, it’s a decent walk from the reserve course building to the main course, so you really have to put the leg work in if you want to spend any real time with Sonia before heading back over again. You round a corner and run headlong into Komaeda. The universe has a hilarious sense of humour.

“Ah.” He starts, cocking his hips to the side while staring down at you, “What rotten luck.”

You glare at him, “Rotten luck, indeed.”

Komaeda laughs, “Is that so? I’m quite sure this is the highlight of your day.” You stiffen as he leans down by your ear, his long fingers coming to rest on your hip, “You do so enjoy it when I mock you, after all.”

You feel his teeth on the side of your throat, not really biting, but pressing down just enough that you can feel them. You release a shaky moan, digging your nails into your palms.

“Just like a reserve course student to revel in my touch; in whatever form it comes.” His hand grips tighter, you can feel his nails pressing hard against your skin, “I could bite down so hard that you bleed, and you’d still moan, wouldn’t you?”

You would. Oh god you would. Your legs are shaking, you can feel his warm breath in your ear and you’re becoming painfully aware that this is happening in the hallway. You swallow as your eyes dart open to the supply closet behind Komaeda. He grins saccharinely as he follows your eyes, grabbing you by the hand and tugging you down the hall. Before you have a chance to ask what is going on-

The door to the supply closet clicks shut, and you are suddenly very aware of your situation. It takes you eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, but when they do, you can see the utter hunger in Komaeda’s eyes. You swallow.

“How...how long have you known?”

“Known what?” He asks, feigning innocence.

You huff, “don’t make me say it!”

Komeda crosses his arms, “no, I seem to have forgotten. I’ll need you to remind me.”

You avert your eyes, scowling down at the ground, “how long have you known, that your degradation turns me on?”

He grins, “Almost a month.”

Your head snaps back up in horror, “So you’ve been toying with me on purpose this whole time?” You scoff, “What am I saying, of course you have been.”

“You’re lucky that I pay attention to you at all.” He breathes, and your heart starts racing at the jangle of a belt buckle.

This can’t be happening.

“You should be worshipping me.” Komaeda purrs over the sound of a leather belt being tugged through its loops. Your legs are quivering.The snick of a button coming undone, the sound of a zipper, and the thump of your knees hitting the floor all happen within seconds of each other.

Komaeda chokes on a laugh. “I thought I would have to ask you to kneel.” He pulls his cock out of his boxers, already half hard as a smirk crawls up the side of his face, “But it seems you already know your place.”

His cock is very pretty. Pale and slim with a blush red tip that you can't help wanting to suck on.

“Don’t worry.” Komaeda whispers, “I have very low expectations for someone as talentless as yourself. I’ll be impressed if you even manage to make me come.”

Arousal shudders through you at his words, leaning forward and giving the head of his cock a cursorly lick. His breath catches in his throat. Such a pretty sound, you want to hear it more. One of his hands curls into your hair as you open your mouth wide and take the whole head in, sucking gently before bobbing your mouth halfway down.

“ Ah! ” Komaeda hisses, hips stuttering deeper into your throat, “What an honour for you... aha ...to have an ultimate’s cock in your mouth, what a privilege .” his words break off into a laugh, wheezy and breathless as you take him all the way down, tears prickling in your eyes as it becomes harder to breathe. His head thumps back against the wall of the closet, cock pumping harder and faster into your open mouth as his nails dig into your scalp. You can feel drool running down your chin and dripping down to the floor, keening and moaning around his cock as you lathe the underside of the head with your tongue.

“Who...Who knew...that this would be your one use…” Komaeda stammers, hips twitching and rolling into your mouth over and over, “is this your talent? Aha! Is sucking cock your talent?”

You make a noise of affirmation, unable to form words as he keeps relentlessly fucking into you. One of your hands slips up under your skirt and into your panties. It isn't surprising how wet you are, moaning unabashedly as you circle your swollen clit with a finger.

“Ah... Ah! Look at you!” Komaeda exclaims, voice high and breathy as he tries to hold back another moan, “Being used like this turns you on, doesn't it? I wonder if one of those reserve course boys could do this to you.” he laughs breathlessly, “I wonder if you would let one of those reserve course boys fuck your mouth in the supply closet.” he grins down at you, eyes wild and almost unhinged, “I dont think you would, would you? I think you only want me, isn't that right?”

“Yes…” you manage to slur around him, circling your clit faster and faster, “nghh...only...you”

Your assertion only spurs him on further, hiking on leg up over your shoulder and pressing the heel of shoe hard into the wall behind you, hips stuttering forward with no discernible rhythm. You moan deep in the back of your throat and curl your arm around his thigh, feeling the muscles flex below your fingers as fucks into your mouth with unbridled desparetion. For all his talk, he seems to find your blow job abilities pretty competent.

“Don’t... ahh! ...Don’t stop-“ he groans, teeth gritted together, sweat dripping down his brow, “I...I’m gonna…”

You’re close too. Your fingers pressing hard on your clit, circling almost brutally as you take his cock further down your throat. You can’t help but peer up at him, lording over just how thoroughly ruined he looks. Usually so neat, so clean. He looks like a perfect mess and it makes you keen around him, hips grinding harder into your own hand as you get closer and closer.

“You’re mine...all mine” Komaeda rasps, twitching and moaning, “Your mouth is mine to fuck...no-no one else can— AHHH!”

His head collides with the wooden wall so loudly that you’re almost worried it hurts, and then he comes hard down your throat. You aren’t far behind, knees shaking and shuddering under your weight as you come tumbling over the edge, absolutely soiling your panties. There’s a filthy mixture of cum and saliva dripping out from your mouth that you swallow as best you can with Komaeda’s softening cock still in your mouth. The foot he had up against the wall slowly drops, resting gently on your shoulder instead as he catches his breath. You can see his chest rising and falling, his eyes gently closed. He’s cute when he’s not being such an asshole.

Finally, he pulls his hips back and his cock slips out of your mouth, there isn’t too much of a mess on that front, at least nothing you can’t wipe away with the back of your hand, but your panties are another story. You’re just going to pray that they dry off a little before you have to go back to class.

Komaeda slides his leg from your shoulder and leisurely starts tucking himself back into his pants. You aren’t really sure what you’re supposed to be doing, so you just sit on the floor and wait for him to finish.

He hums, reaching down and tilting your chin up with a finger, “maybe you aren’t entirely pathetic.” he surprises you when he leans down and slots his lips against yours, flicking his tongue into your mouth, “if I’m able to make time in my busy schedule, I could shove my cock somewhere else next time.”

You moan audibly, nodding your head with probably a little too much gusto.

Komaeda grins, all teeth and gums, and says, “I look forward to it.”

So do you.

#komaeda x reader #/request #nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa fanfiction #it was weird to write him so nasty #but i think i had fun?#gluttonousfruit

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lunar-wandering · 3 years

Text

Glamours and Gauze

well. this fic now wins the title of “longest one shot i’ve ever written”.

seriously, after Shadow Play, the will to write a Macaque fic was way too strong.

Word Count: 6k

Read on Ao3

There was a loud crash outside the noodle shop.

Pigsy paid no attention to it, simply continuing to work in the kitchen, but MK paused mid-sweep of his broom, glancing towards the entrance nervously, bracing himself for a possible enemy attack. (Knowing that the Lady Bone Demon was out there...... one could never be too prepared).

Instead of an enemy however, what stumbled through the door way was a, very visibly injured and bleeding, Monkey King.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!" MK yelped, dropping his broom to the ground as he rushed over to catch Wukong as he stumbled into the shop. A bit of blood dripped down from a rather large gash on the monkey's arm down to the floor. Pigsy would probably murder MK for the stain that would make, but MK was more so concerned about the heavily wounded monkey he held in his arms at the moment. "What happened?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with." Wukong grunted out, standing up a little with a wince, trying to push MK's hands off of him, without much luck. "I just came to get some bandages or whatever, then I'll get out of your hair."

"You- You can't just walk in here bleeding and expect me to not be concerned." MK said, leveling Wukong with what he hoped was a disapproving look, before turning and yelling towards the kitchen. "Pigsy! Monkey King's injured, can you get the first aid kit?"

There was the sound of something dropping in the kitchen, MK had probably startled him, and a bit of shuffling, and then Pigsy rounded the corner, first aid kit in his hands, looking exasperated as well as worried.

"I swear, everyday it's something new with you two." He said, "Come on, lets get him upstairs. The blood will scare away customers if he stays down here."

MK nodded, and despite the Monkey King's quiet protests, managed to drag him up the stairs and into his apartment. Carefully, he directed Wukong into a chair, as Pigsy set the first aid kit down on the kitchen table.

"You already know what to do, right?" Pigsy asked, MK nodding in response. "Good. I have still have some orders to get to, but call for me if you need any extra help."

"Got it. Thanks." MK said, opening the kit and pulling out some gauze and bandages as Pigsy turned and left down the stairs. MK reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a small hand towel, wetting it with some water from the sink and adding a bit of soap.

"Okay." He said, turning back to Wukong. "I gotta clean your cuts so...... take off your shirt?"

"I can take care of myself, bud." Wukong said, quietly, but still, he complied, his shirt disappearing with a snap of his fingers, allowing MK to get a better look at his injuries. Most of the cuts didn't seem too bad, just surface wounds, but the cut on his arm was still cause for concern. MK was no expert, but it looked deep.

....Probably best to start with the most serious injury first, MK thought, giving Wukong no warning as he pressed the towel to the monkey's arm, cleaning the wound. Wukong yelped a little as he did it, his fur bristling and his tail thrashing in response.

"Sorry, probably should've warned you." MK apologized, trying to ignore the way Wukong's glare pierced into him. He hadn't noticed it before, far too worried about the very injured Monkey King in front of him but something seemed.....off about all of this. He wasn't sure what, and honestly, it could just how worried he was for his mentor's health, and nothing else. But still, his instincts had yet to steer him wrong before....... He shook those thoughts out of his head as he examined the injury. "Hm.... Not as deep as I thought. Good news is, it doesn't seem like you need stitches."

Wukong scoffed a little at that, rolling his eyes in a way that clearly communicated how obvious he felt that statement was. MK chose to ignore it, picking the gauze up off the table and starting to tightly wrap it around the monkey's arm.

"You know, I could've sworn all the stories said you were pretty much invulnerable." MK said, in an attempt to make conversation. The Monkey King had been unusually quiet this whole time, after all.

"Heh. You shouldn't believe every story you hear, bud." Wukong said again, and somehow, that was all it took for things to finally click into place. Sure, the Monkey King called MK 'bud' all the time, along with a variety of other nicknames he'd thrown into the mix, but the way he said it just now, his tone-

MK froze as the dots connected in his mind, slowly glancing up at the monkey's face, finding that the other was purposefully avoiding his gaze.

It didn't take true golden sight to figure out who the person MK was currently bandaging up really was.

Not wanting to seem suspicious, MK slowly went back to winding the gauze around the monkey's arm, trying to sort through his thoughts.

Okay. So. The Six Eared Macaque was currently sitting right in front of him. He was disguised as the Monkey King, who was MK's mentor. The last time MK had seen Macaque, he'd kidnapped his friends, attacked him, but then let them all go, giving MK a cryptid warning as he left. And now-

And now he was injured.

And he'd come to MK for help.

As for why the shadow monkey would turn to him for help, MK had no idea, but. As much as he distrusted Macaque, he couldn't just not help someone who was injured.

Alright. Okay. MK could work with this.

He stayed silent as he continued to treat Macaque's wounds, trying to put his anxiety over the fact that he was treating Macaque, of all people, out of his mind.

"...So." He started, nervously, as he finished wrapping up the last of the cuts. "Uh. Any other injuries I should know about?"

"What?" Macaque asked, sounding somewhat.... dazed and confused. MK had been so deep in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed that the monkey had been spacing out.

"I asked if you were injured anywhere else." MK repeated, narrowing his eyes as Macaque's eyebrow twitched as he looked away, tail swinging back and forth.

"Uh, no. Don't think so." He muttered, seeming.....unusually quiet and meeker than MK remembered him being. Then again, he was supposed to still be pretending to be Wukong, since he didn't know MK had figured him out yet, but still.

"Well. 'Kay, that's obviously a lie." MK said, crossing his arms. "Seriously, are you injured anywhere else? Did you get hit on the head or something?"

Macaque didn't answer, staring at some point on the nearby wall. MK sighed, taking that as a yes.

So probably a concussion then. That......explained why he'd decided to come here for help, of all places. Or, well, at least explained a bit of it.

MK pulled some ice cubes out of his freezer, putting them in a little plastic bag, before wrapping a cloth around it, and placing it in Macaque's hand.

"What's this for?" Macaque asked.

"Put on your head, wherever it was you got hit. It's for the concussion." MK explained, putting the materials he'd used back into the first aid kit and closing it up. "Stay here. I'm going to bring this back down to Pigsy."

Leaving Macaque alone in MK's apartment was probably not the best decision he could've possibly made, but it really didn't seem like the shadow monkey planned on moving anytime soon, from the way he'd slumped against the chair, holding an makeshift ice pack against the side of his head. With one last look over his shoulder to make sure Macaque hadn't moved, MK turned and walked down the stairs.

He found Pigsy in the kitchen washing dishes, as expected.

"How's the monkey doing?" Pigsy asked, once he'd noticed that MK had entered the room.

"Oh, uh, he's fine, other than the mild concussion, but uh. He's um. Not who we thought he was." MK started, setting the first aid kit back into it's usual spot on a nearby counter. "You remember Macaque, the one from the shadow play a week or so ago?"

Pigsy paused, gently setting a place down into the sink as he turned around to give MK his full attention, wiping the soapy water on his hands off onto a hand towel as he did so.

"You mean to tell me." He said, "That the shadow monkey that attacked us a week ago is up in your apartment? And you just left him there? Alone?"

"He's injured, it's not like he's going to go anywhere." MK said, although he wasn't entirely sure if said statement was even true. "Besides, I think. Well I think there's more to him than meets the eye."

"Look, kid." Pigsy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I trust your judgement. However, if that monkey makes a single move against you-"

"Then he's out of here, I know." MK said, turning to head back up the stairs. He'd left Macaque alone for long enough, after all. "I assure you Pigsy, if I need help, I'll call for you. Promise."

"....Whatever." Pigsy said, "Just go and keep an eye on him. I'll text the others and tell them what's up."

"Thanks!" MK said, and he rushed back up the stairs.

Macaque wasn't sitting in the chair.

For a brief moment, panic flung through MK's mind, wondering if, he had, in fact, been duped.

But....there was no way someone could fake injuries like that, and nothing seemed to be out of place, the windows and door still closed, so where-

There was some rustling in the living room.

Cautiously, MK slowly walked around the corner-

Macaque was laying, face down, on the couch. His injured arm dangled off the side, his hand barely touching the floor, the ice pack lazily positioned on top of his head. His tail was curled up beside him, still.

He was no longer disguised as Wukong.

MK cautiously approached him, before lightly poking his back.

No reaction, but he still seemed to be breathing normally. He'd probably fallen asleep.

Well.... MK supposed he could leave him be for now. He'd have to wake him up in a few hours or so, both to make sure that the cut on his arm hadn't gotten infected, and to check on that concussion, but as of right now, he could let him rest. He didn't really want to let Macaque out of his sight again though, so instead he grabbed one of his sketchbooks and pencils and sat down on the floor, doodling as he waited.

Macaque woke up to something poking him in the side. He groaned, rolling over-

And tumbled right off the couch and onto the floor with a pained yelp. He landed on his stomach, thankfully not hitting his head again on the way down. Upon this rude awakening, on pure instinct, he immediately shifted back into whatever disguise he'd been wearing before he'd fallen asleep.

Grumbling under his breath, he slowly pushed himself up, looking over to the side.

Oh. And there was Wukong's kid, sitting on the floor, holding his staff and looking both nervous and guilty.

.....Ah, that's right, Macaque had, in a moment of weakness, chosen to go to MK for help. As for what had been going through his mind when he'd chosen to do that, Macaque had no idea, but at least he'd disguised himself as Wukong first-

Wait. His disguise. He'd fallen asleep.

.....How long had the kid been sitting there? Had he seen-

"I'm sorry!" MK squeaked out, distracting Macaque from his thoughts. "I had to wake you up- to check on your injuries. I didn't think you'd uh. Fall."

Macaque did his best attempt at a 'Sun Wukong Original Smile'. He think he only half succeeded.

"It's uh, fine, bud." Macaque said, mentally trying to pull himself together. Come on, he's an actor, he acts every time he has to interact, he can do this. "You uh, did a good job, but I think I'm mostly healed by now already so I'll just get out of your way-"

"Wait." MK interrupted, and Macaque, who had stood up and turned to walk towards the door, froze mid-step.

He could not do this.

"You don't....need to stay disguised as Monkey King." MK said, and Macaque's fur bristled. Fuck, he'd been found out already, time to get the hell out of dodge-

"Ohoho? So you've figured me out already huh?" Macaque said, letting his Wukong glamour drop, but keeping his other ones, his most important ones, up. He pulled the shadows closer to himself, to make a more threatening appearance. "Hah, I guess every fool has moments of lucidity. Well, I've got all I wanted-" That was a lie, he'd gotten nothing, but might as well make the kid panic for a while wondering what he'd taken, right? That's what villains did, right? "-So I'll just be on my way now. See you later, bud."

Macaque turned, fully intending to walk into the shadows on the wall and teleport away-

The front door swung open, and the lights, which Macaque hadn't even registered had been off, switched on, flooding the room with light. The shadows crumbled in the brightness-

And Macaque smacked right into the wall.

He fell back to the floor, hissing in pain, his tail swishing as his previous wounds, both from the earlier fight and from falling off the couch, were agitated. He rubbed his head as a new batch of pain swept through it.

"MK!" He heard Mei shout, as she came in through the door, a true storm of energy. "I came as soon as I could- is that him?"

Macaque, still rubbing his head, (he was pretty sure his concussion from the fight was gone by now, but honestly he might've just gotten a brand new one), glanced up, seeing that Mei was looking at him with an appraising gaze.

"He doesn't really look all that menacing without the cloak to be honest." She said, shrugging. Macaque blinked at her, confused.

"What? No, you know what, it doesn't matter, I'm leaving." He said, standing up and dusting off his outfit, trying to put what had just happened as far away from his current thoughts as possible. (Later, he told himself, later he could scream into a pillow about how fucking embarrassing what just happened was. But he couldn't focus on it, not now.). With as much dignity he could muster at the moment, he slipped past Mei, walking out the door she'd left wide open.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Someone asked, and Macaque abruptly felt something grab onto his scarf. He stumbled, turning around to see who'd grabbed him, only to find himself standing in front of a large, blue, fish demon.

Ah. This must be that 'Sandy' that Tang had mentioned. Macaque had never met him, and honestly, right now, he really didn't want to.

"Ah, I was just leaving-" He started, tugging on his scarf, trying to get Sandy to let go.

His grip didn't even waver.

"But I haven't even gotten the chance to meet you yet!" Sandy said, easily scooping Macaque up despite the shadow monkey's protests. "Come on back in, I'll even make you some tea!"

Was literally anything going to go as planned today?

Apparently not, as Sandy unceremoniously dropped Macaque back onto the couch, the monkey scrambling to right himself so that he didn't go tumbling off the piece of furniture again.

"What kind of tea do you like?" Sandy asked, "Mint? Peach?"

"I don't like peaches." Macaque hissed, "And I don't like tea."

"Coffee then?" Sandy asked, and proceeded to take Macaque's silence as a yes.

"There's some instant coffee in the 3rd cupboard on the right." MK instructed, and Sandy nodded, heading into the kitchen and quickly setting up a teapot of water on the stove to boil.

"So~" Mei started, plopping herself down on the couch beside Macaque, showing a surprising lack of fear at his presence. "What exactly are you doing here, huh? You going to kidnap our souls again?"

"Oh for the love of- no, the lamp is gone anyways." Macaque huffed, keeping his eyes on the kitchen. He wasn't a fool, he knew a powerful demon when he saw one. Sure, Sandy was only making tea right now, but he'd have to be extra careful around him in the future. "I would've left already if you guys didn't keep trying to keep me here, for some stupid reason I can't even begin to comprehend."

"Well, after much debate, we've decided to attempt to add you to our anti-hit list." MK said, casually leaning against a wall. If the room had been darker, Macaque would've taken great pleasure in having his shadow appear behind him to freak him out a little, but as it was right now....

"What the fuck is an anti-hit list?" Macaque asked, genuinely confused, but didn't get an answer as Sandy walked out, carrying a tray with four cups, three filled with tea, one with coffee, and a small plate of cookies and fruits. He set them down on a small table that, to be honest, Macaque hadn't even noticed. MK and Mei happily picked up their cups, sipping at their tea. Macaque didn't touch his cup, staring at it with obvious distrust.

"Aren't you going to drink your coffee?" MK asked.

"How am I meant to know it's not poisoned?" Macaque scoffed in response.

"Because Sandy would never do that? I can taste test it for you, if you really want me to-" MK said.

"No thanks, don't want to be contaminated with your dirty Monkey King Successor Saliva." Macaque said, smirking when MK sighed in irritation. Good, maybe if he got under the kid's nerves, he'd let him leave.

"Why don't you try some of the cookies and fruits then?" MK asked, biting into one of the said snacks, "The rest of us are eating them without a care, so they're not poisoned."

"You could just be avoiding the ones that you poisoned so that I'll eat them." Macaque said, relishing in how MK huffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to be fooled so easily. You do remember who I am, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, the Six Eared Macaque or whatever." MK grumbled, and Mei stifled a laugh.

"Kind of a weird name for someone who doesn't have six ears." She said, before pausing. "...Wait, do you have six ears?"

"...It's more of a nickname, really." Macaque mumbled, eyebrow twitching, suddenly very much disliking where this conversation was going. He stood up, pushing the cup that he hadn't bothered to drink out of to the side. "Anyways, I think I've overstayed my welcome here, so if you don't mind-"

"Not so fast." Sandy said, stopping Macaque before he could even take a step.

"What now?" Macaque hissed, glaring at him.

Sandy grabbed hold of Macaque's hand and dropped a tea bag into it.

"I know you said you didn't like tea-" He said, "-But I figured you should take some with you anyways. This one specifically is good for relaxing!"

Macaque rolled his eyes, but he still shoved the tea bag into his pocket, something the others took note of. With a quick glance at MK and Mei to make sure they weren't going to try and stop him again, Macaque finally, finally, left.

Cursing himself with every step he took, Macaque snuck into MK's kitchen, pulling out the tea bag Sandy had given him. He'd tried, oh he'd tried, to rest on top of the roof but, as he was right now, he wouldn't be getting any sleep.

Sandy had said this tea was good for relaxation. He could probably trust that, just a little bit.

Keeping an ear (or two. or three. or four-) out to make sure MK didn't wake up, Macaque slowly and quietly set up the tea kettle on the stove. He pulled a mug out of one of the cupboards, and set it down on the counter. Restlessly, he tapped his foot on the ground as he waited for the water to boil.

Really, he'd rather be anywhere but here, in the middle of the night, making tea in the apartment of Wukong's Successor.

But, truthfully, he didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. The Lady Bone Demon obviously had records of all the places Macaque would usually hide out. He wasn't very keen on getting captured again when he'd only just barely escaped.

Right now, staying close to MK was probably the safest place he could be. The kid was under Wukong's protection after all.

...Whether or not Wukong would arrive in time to maintain said protection was up for debate, but the kid is powerful. He'd be enough.

Macaque barely managed to get the kettle off the stove before it started whistling. He poured the water into his cup, blew on it to cool it down, and took a sip.

...Huh. So Sandy hadn't been lying. The tea actually was pretty good, and Macaque found himself leaning against the counter lazily as he continued to sip it. To be honest, he hasn't eaten or drunk anything in... a while, technically he didn't really need to, he could live without it, but. Something about this was... nice, he supposed.

He felt a bit more relaxed than before, almost enough to no longer notice the small aching pains of his healing injuries-

The cut on his arm throbbed with an extreme amount of pain, and Macaque tensed, tail curling up, doing a full body shudder-

The cup went tumbling to the floor.

MK woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a crash and quiet swearing coming from the kitchen. Quickly, he shot out of bed, summoning his staff and rounding the corner-

He just barely caught a glimpse of a shadow slipping back out through the window.

Keeping his guard up, MK slowly reached over and flicked on the lights.

There was nobody there.

But somebody had been there- The kettle was not where he'd left it earlier, and-

There was a broken cup laying on the floor, some remnant drops of tea around it, as well as a very familiar tea bag.

MK sighed, putting the staff away and getting his broom out of the closet instead. He swept up the broken pieces, throwing them into the garbage can. He paused for a moment, thinking. Then, he activated his golden vision, and looked up.

Sure enough, he could see a faint golden outline of Macaque pacing on the roof.

MK debated, for a while, whether or not he should go up there and confront him. After all, an explanation as to why Macaque had broken into his apartment in the middle of the night just to make tea, instead of drinking it earlier when they offered, would be nice information to have.

On the other hand though, MK was tired, and it was late, and honestly, from the way Macaque was pacing, it didn't look like he'd be leaving the roof anytime soon.

MK turned around and went back to bed.

When MK climbed the ladder to the roof in the morning, still clad in his pyjama's, his phone tucked in his pocket, the roof seemed to be empty.

MK had long since learned that when things involved Macaque, not everything was as it seemed.

Specifically, a bunch of shadows on the nearby wall looked rather suspicious, if you were asking him. He dug his phone out and turned on the flashlight, shining it over the shadowy spot.

Almost immediately, Macaque fell out of the, now non-existent, shadows, barely catching himself from having another close encounter with the ground. He stumbled a little, clearly off balance. For a moment he looked like he hadn't slept at all, his fur mussed, bags under his eyes-

MK didn't get to see much of it, for as soon as he blinked, Macaque was back to looking the same way he always did.

"Would you stop doing that?" Macaque hissed, glaring at him. MK blinked, turning off the flash and pocketing his phone again.

"Uh. Good morning?" MK said, and, seeing no way to phrase the question delicately, asked; ".....Why did you break into my apartment in the middle of the night?"

"Heh, what are you talking about?" Macaque said, sliding back into his 'cool and composed' persona almost effortlessly. "You must've dreamed it, bud."

MK, in fact, had considered the possibility that it had been a dream when he woke up in the morning. However, the broken porcelain and used tea bag laying in his trashcan proved otherwise. He was about to point this out- when a familiar dull pang ran through his head.

Oh shit, not now.

"Hey, bud!" The Monkey King's voice said, a golden see through version of him appearing at MK's side. "I uh, know I kinda brushed you off the last time, sorry about that, but I figured I'd check in and see how you were doing!"

"Not now, Monkey King." MK whispered, under his breath, but of course, Macaque still heard it.

"Monkey King?" He questioned, before registering the way MK was looking slightly to the side, a slight golden glow reflecting in his eyes. "Ah. He's doing the astral projecting thing, isn't he."

MK didn't answer, instead trying to give Wukong the hint that now was not the time.

"Why, are you busy with something? Meh, I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle." Wukong said, and MK sighed. "Look, my vacation will be over soon, okay? There's just a few more uh, friends I need to visit, and then-"

A hand landed on MK's shoulder, and he barely restrained himself from startling as another, different pang ran through his mind.

"Monkey King! Good to see ya, bud." Macaque said, sarcasm colouring his voice. "How's your little vacation treating you huh?"

"Macaque." Wukong hissed, looking shocked, but quickly transitioning into anger. "What are you doing with MK?"

"Me? Why would you assume I've done anything to your little apprentice?" Macaque said, "You should be thinking about what you've done, honestly."

"Wh- what are you going on about now?" Wukong asked. Macaque laughed.

"Seriously? You need me to explain it to you? Oh, that's rich." He said, "Wukong, you really need to learn how to take a step back and see the world outside of you, because you obviously haven't realized that you've left your successor behind."

"I- I haven't left him behind." Wukong said, although the glance he sent in MK's direction spoke volumes about how much he actually believed that. "I'm coming right back, MK, as soon as this is done. I promise."

"Oho, we all know exactly how good you are with promises, Wukong." Macaque said, his tail thrashing back and forth. Wukong looked pained for a moment-

And then the connection cut off, Wukong not even saying goodbye as his see through form turned around before fading away. Macaque took his hand off MK's shoulder, laughing in a way that felt....forced.

"Ha....same old Monkey King, huh." He said, crossing his arms. "As much as he tries to insist other wise, he really does never change."

"What, was that?" MK asked, looking Macaque up and down. He'd stayed quiet during their conversation, but now... "Seriously dude, what the fuck?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque said, waving him off. "Anyways, what are you doing on the rooftop this lovely morning?"

"I should be asking you that." MK responded, "Also, don't think I don't realize that you're attempting to deflect."

"Deflection who? Never heard of her." Macaque said, sitting down on the edge of the roof, his legs swinging off the side. "Besides, don't you have a job to do?"

MK looked down at the clock on his phone. 9:30 am. Shit, Macaque was right, MK did have to be getting to work.

"This conversation isn't over." He said. Macaque pretended like he didn't hear him.

When MK finally got a break and headed back up to the roof, the shadow monkey was gone.

Macaque ended up showing up in the noodle shop, two days later.

Tang had nearly choked on his noodles when the monkey had suddenly appeared out of nowhere beside him, barely keeping himself from yelling in surprise. Macaque hadn't even glanced at him, resolutely staring down at the counter instead. Everything about his body language implied that he'd rather be anywhere but here.

So..... why was he here?

Everyone very much wanted to ask, but one look from Pigsy shut them up. They all knew Pigsy's habit of helping people, MK and Tang had experienced it first hand after all, and they deferred to his judgement on things like this.

So they let Macaque be, silently sitting on the stool, his tail swinging back and forth.

Pigsy pulled MK into the kitchen.

"Kid," He started, "When you patched up Macaque, how much gauze did you use, exactly?"

"Only enough to wrap up his arm." MK answered, "There was plenty left afterwards. Why?"

"And you made sure to put it back in the kit?"

"Yeah.....why are you asking me this?"

Pigsy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I was doing inventory earlier- checking to see what things I'd need to stock up on. Figured I'd check the first aid kit too, since you'd used it." Pigsy said, "The gauze is gone kid. And I mean like, gone, gone. There ain't any left at all. Like it was never there in the first place."

"That's....weird." MK said, scratching his head. "Who would want to steal gauze?"

"That's what I'm wondering too."

Red Son happened to visit the noodle shop that day. He paused as he entered through the door, noting the monkey demon sitting at the counter, resting his head on one hand.

"...I see you peasants have forced another person into your friend group from hell." He said to Mei, leaning up against a wall. Mei elbowed him in the stomach in response.

"You say that as though you aren't also part of our friend group." She said, rolling her eyes. Red Son huffed, but didn't argue with her claim, so she took that as a win. "Also, he isn't exactly in the friend category yet. We're working on it."

"If he isn't in the friend category, then why is he even here?" Red Son asked, "It's not every day a random demon monkey decides to just hang out in a noodle shop, of all places."

"First of all, his name is Macaque." MK said, walking over to where Mei and Red Son were standing, holding a broom in his hand, since he'd just finished sweeping up the kitchen. "Secondly, we're not sure why he's here. He just kinda, showed up."

"And don't diss the noodle shop either." Mei said, "We all know you like it here as much as we do."

"Whatever." Red Son said, before turning to MK with narrowed eyes. "Anyways, are you okay, Noodle Boy?"

"....What do you mean?" MK asked.

"I can smell blood."

Unseen to the group of three, Macaque tensed, head snapping up as he looked over to them.

"I'm fine though?" MK said, a questioning lilt in his voice. "I haven't fought...anyone, really, in over a week, and I don't think I've cut myself on anything.... Are you sure the spices aren't messing with you?"

"It's kind of hard to mistake the smell of blood, Noodle Boy." Red Son said, rolling his eyes.

Macaque slowly stood up, starting to make his way towards the door. Unfortunately for him, this movement caught Mei's attention.

"Where are you going?" She asked, drawing MK and Red Son's attention to Macaque who, upon realizing he'd been noticed, stepped forwards much quicker, looking like he was about to run-

He stumbled, one hand going up to his head, his other arm waving off to the side as he struggled for balance, tumbling backwards. MK dropped the broom and caught him before he could hit the ground. In front of the group's eye's, Macaque's form seemed to glitch, revealing, for a moment, mussed up fur, a scar over his eye, six ears-

And blood soaked gauze wrapped around his arm.

Almost as soon as they'd seen it, it was gone again, replaced with Macaque's usual look.

There was silence, for a moment.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" MK asked.

"I'm fine." Macaque hissed, attempting to shove MK's hands off of him, struggling. When he found that he couldn't, he stopped, slumping a little. "Put me down."

"No no no, we're not going to pretend that we didn't just see that." MK said, adjusting his grip and lifting Macaque up.

"Wh- what are you doing, I said to put me down, not pick me up." Macaque said, fur bristling. "Also, you didn't see anything. You're hallucinating."

"Stop deflecting." MK said, gesturing vaguely for Mei and Red Son to follow him, as he carried the monkey up the stairs. "If you're still hurt, we need to treat it."

Macaque didn't respond, and MK looked down to see that his eyes were closed, his form flickering again.

"Huh. I guess he really does have six ears." Mei said from behind him.

"Now is not the time, Dragon Girl." Red Son said. MK ignored them as he unlocked the door to his apartment, walking into the living room and laying Macaque down on the carpet. He might regret that later, blood stains were hell to wash out, but that was a problem for future MK.

Macaque's form flickered again, except this time, it stayed on the version of him that looked.... well if MK was being honest, he looked awful. His face was pale, and his fur looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks.

Not to mention the bloody gauze around his arm.

MK made quick work of removing it, wincing whenever Macaque whimpered in pain in response to the injury being touched. As soon as the injury was uncovered, the trio sucked in a horrified breath.

"...I don't understand." MK whispered, "He's a demon, demons heal quickly right? He got this injury at least 3 days ago, so why is it-"

"It's cursed." Red Son said, sounding terrified, for once. "He's been struck by a cursed blade. Whoever did this really does want him dead."

"What do we do?" MK asked, "We can't just let him... let him bleed to death."

"You mentioned before that Wukong has a room full of items, back on Flower Fruit Mountain?" Red Son asked. MK nodded in response. "He probably has something there that could help."

MK, who had kneeled on the floor to check Macaque's injury, quickly stood up, summoning the staff.

"Mei, get Pigsy and the others. They'll probably be better at taking care of him right now than we are." He said, before turning back to Red Son. "How will I know if I've found something that will help?"

"Truthfully, I couldn't tell you." Red Son said, shrugging. "I've never had to deal with something like this before. ...I'm sure you'd know when you see it though."

"Oh, sure, that's real helpful." MK said, sarcastically, and proceeded to turn and run out the door.

"Seriously why does Monkey King have so much stuff!" MK yelled, throwing a box of jewels at a wall. He'd been searching frantically through the mountains of items for.... about ten minutes, and he was, honestly, tired of it. "Would it kill him to hold a garage sale once in a while? Maybe then I'd actually be able to find shit!"

"Hey, each of these items are near and dear to me, I'll have you know."

MK yelped, summoning the staff as he whirled around, coming face to face with none other than Sun Wukong himself.

"Monkey King!" MK said, "You're back?"

"Yep, managed to get all that I- uh, I mean, I managed to catch up with everyone." Wukong said, lazily laying back on his cloud. "Anyways, mind telling me what you're doing in my storage room?"

"...You're not going to like the answer to that." MK nervously rubbed the back of his neck. He knew that Macaque and Wukong had a history, and although he didn't know the full details, he knew that the two of them didn't get along now. Truthfully, he had no idea if Wukong would even be willing to help Macaque at all.

MK himself wasn't entirely sure why he was helping him either, really, he'd done nothing to warrant it.

But then again, he hadn't done anything that warranted a slow death via bleeding out either.

"I'm sure that whatever it is can't be that bad." Wukong said, "It takes a lot to surprise me, kid."

"Macaque is currently bleeding out on my carpet."

"He's what?!"

When Macaque woke up, he was back on the couch again. He vaguely recalled passing out after MK had carried him up the stairs, but to be honest, that whole event was.... a little blurry for him. He thinks he woke up a few more times afterwards, but between the blurry faces and surprisingly muffled sounds, he can't make heads or tails of what happened.

He sighed, not really wanting to get up yet, snuggling back down into the couch-

He can hear another heartbeat. There's someone in the room with him.

Macaque sat up laser fast, throwing his usual glamours back on.

"Ah ah ah, none of that now."

Something lightly tapped his shoulder, and Macaque's glamour dissolved completely as a slight golden light went over him.

He turned his head to see Wukong sitting on the edge of the couch.

"Don't want you to pass out on us again after we just healed you." He said, "Seriously, try to keep from using a lot of magic in the next few days. You'll heal faster."

"Oh that's rich, coming from Mr. 'I can't stay in bed for 2 hours'. You don't think I've forgotten when you got hit with that energy depletion curse, did you?" Macaque retorted, crossing his arms. Wukong gave a nervous laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"To be honest, I was hoping you did forget that, actually." He said.

"Please. As though I'd ever forget something that led to the honorable Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, walking right into a tree." Macaque said, a smirk on his face.

They were both avoiding talking about what had happened between them. Neither of them truly felt they were ready for that yet.

They were in MK's apartment though, so they could at least try to avoid an actual fight.

"What's this I hear about Monkey King walking into a tree?" MK said, walking into the room. Pigsy and Mei followed close behind him.

"Ah, it's nothing, he's just lying like always. The medicine is probably making him think of things that aren't true." Wukong said, and Macaque rolled his eyes.

"If you give me some plums later, I'll tell you all about it, MK." Macaque said, ignoring Wukong's protests. "Monkey King needs to get knocked down a peg or two, in my opinion."

"MK, I swear if you agree to that-" Wukong warned.

"Deal." MK said, holding out his hand for Macaque to shake. Wukong yelled in outrage as Macaque laughed.

"Heh, nice to see the two of you actually getting along, for once." Pigsy said, leaning over the back of the couch as he ruffled the fur on the top of both Wukong and Macaque's heads.

Both monkeys froze.

"....You two okay?" MK asked. Wukong and Macaque glanced at each other. An agreement had been made.

They would never speak of this.

In near perfect sync, the both of them leapt off the couch, turning and running off in different directions, Wukong going out a window, while Macaque chose the slightly more reasonable option of going out the door.

MK, Mei, and Pigsy stood there in shock for a moment, as they watched the two monkeys get further away.

".....Stupid touch starved monkeys." Pigsy sighed, turning and heading back down to the restaurant. He'd had enough Monkey Madness for one day.

MK and Mei glanced at each other, and then back in the directions Wukong and Macaque had gone.

"Uhh, I go get Monkey King, you go get Macaque?" MK said.

"You wanna make it a race? See who can get one of them to come back first?" Mei asked.

"Absolutely. Ready?"

"As always."

"Then 3, 2, 1, go!" MK yelled, and two of them ran off, chasing after Wukong and Macaque.

#Monkie Kid #fanfic #my writing

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luminois · 3 years

Text

— 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧;

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐰: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭), 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢).

𝟒𝟓𝟏𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐩.𝐬.: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ･:*✧ 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

the needle poked the pad of your finger, making you squeak as droplets of blood fell on the scarf you’d been sewing, patching it up out of kindness. the wool was now stained with red.

“shit,” you hissed through gritted teeth, throwing the unfinished piece in the corner of the small room before sucking on the bleeding finger.

the curse had slipped from your lips easily, and you’d done nothing to stop it. you’d discovered it made pain more bearable in a way you couldn’t explain, and your heart didn’t feel heavy because of it. sentences that sounded centuries old resonated in your mind, warning you about your teeth falling off upon speaking such unkind words. you chuckled bitterly, letting your head fall back until it touched the wall. how could you have fallen for such childlike threats? the archangels must have been sure you were nothing but a fool, and at the time they’d been right.

you’d believed their lies, listened to them preaching of saving poor innocent souls from an evil bigger than them, an evil that they couldn’t have understood. but humans knew about sin more than you could have, kept in the dark and fed distorted versions of the truth like you had been.

the truth, the real unadulterated truth, was that the world wasn’t as simple as they wanted you to believe. sometimes war was necessary, it was liberation and revolution, and more often than not peace wasn’t enough. sometimes the only way to do good was to use despicable means, and that was because life isn’t fair. they’d taught you who your enemy was without mentioning the infinite amount of shades of grey existing between the light and the dark, showing you an idealized version of the world. now reality had knocked the air out of your lungs and you were left unarmed, gasping on your own.

in the dark of your room, the metallic taste of blood met your tongue and you were reminded of crimson eyes and searing skin. you smiled at the irony of it all. the only one who had been honest with you, who hadn’t lied to smooth out the edges, who had deemed you strong enough to handle the truth, was your supposed enemy.

in a way, hyunjin had ruined your entire existence. you didn’t have a purpose anymore, you were lost and confused and unable to do your job without thinking of how hypocritical it was, to pretend to know what was best for others without having ever experienced pain yourself. he’d shattered the pink glasses perched on your nose and made you see how diverse the world truly was.

most importantly, hyunjin hadn’t left you alone. you hadn’t ever noticed how fucked up it was that the highest sent their angels all alone to wander through a world they barely knew, without any help or guidance, until hyunjin had refused to leave you by yourself. he had held you and dried your tears, hushed you softly and forced himself to tell you about how sometimes life was also bright and full of wonder. you could tell he’d been struggling to find examples, his handsome face contorted by furrowed eyebrows, but you’d believed him anyways. how could you not?

hyunjin had followed you when you’d wanted to close the bakery and lay down in the shade of your room, only a small window letting the sunshine in. your sheets still held his scent, from the way he’d held you until you’d fallen asleep. you had woken up alone, but wrapped in a sweater too big to be your own.

your eyes traveled to the small desk on the opposite side of the room, where the sweater was placed on a chair. you looked at it for a long second and then got up from your bed, swiftly slipping on your shoes before crossing the space in quick strides. the soft material fell on your smaller figure disgracefully, and you adjusted it until it was hiding the cotton shorts you slept in. you made yourself smaller as you stepped out of the building, wrapping your arms around yourself. earth had become too cold now that you’d gotten used to a demon’s heat.

you wandered through the deserted streets without a destination. some shops had started to open up again, but you’d done nothing more than help clean up the streets, so it wasn’t anything you could be proud of. the town still wasn’t close to being considered a welcoming place but you figured things were just going to work out on their own. your services had never really been needed. you wondered if you’d ever had any other role besides providing temporary relief.

loud noises and shouts had just grasped your attention after turning a corner when a young, disheveled woman ran towards you. you recognized her instantly as the gentle young woman who had helped you revive the unkept communal garden weeks prior. her cheeks were crossed by tears, and the shirt she was wearing had been teared up and was now pathetically hanging off of her figure. she took your hands in a bruising grip, and the panic you saw in her eyes made you tremble.

her voice was broken by sobs and fear, but you managed to make out a sentence between her confused mumbling. “he’s going to kill him, you have to do something!”

“it’s okay, you’re okay,” you said, putting aside your confusion to try and calm the poor woman down. “breathe with me, please.”

she gulped and nodded feverishly, her ragged breaths slowing down as she followed yours, her eyes locked on you as if you were her last lifeline. when she was finally able to talk without difficulty, you asked her to explain what had happened.

“i was walking home, the sun was still out so i thought it was safe, but then a man,” she stammered out, having to take a deep breath before continuing. “he grabbed me and i screamed but he put his hand over my mouth and tried to…”

a sob made her voice break and you hushed her gently, rubbing your hands with hers comfortingly. her next words made goosebumps arise on your skin.

“if it hadn’t been for that boy… oh, i don’t know what could’ve happened.”

“a boy?” you asked.

the woman nodded, her eyes widening with restlessness. “yes! people say they’ve seen you two together, that’s why i came searching for you. he saved me, but now i think he’s going to kill that man, you have to do something!”

she pulled at your hands and repeated her words while you tried to take a decision. could letting that monster die mean that justice would’ve been made? it wasn’t hyunjin’s place to be the judge of his actions, but what if he was none other than the executioner chosen by the highest? your internal conflict was reflected in the furrow of your eyebrows. what was right, and what wasn’t? mere days prior you would’ve answered that question without hesitation, but now things were different. you were different.

at last, you nodded wordlessly and let the woman guide you towards the rowdy noises of the fight. a small crowd had gathered, people shouting and enjoying the display of violence, as if it were a show made purposefully for their entertainment. you had to jostle your way to the front of the circle, elbowing people left and right until you had a clear view.

hyunjin sat on the man’s midriff, keeping him down with his body weight and a hand around his neck. he was holding his throat so tight his knuckles had turned white and the man’s lips were starting to become blue. his other hand was balled in a fist, relentlessly hitting the man’s already destroyed face. his nose was broken and he was bleeding from multiple spots, his blood staining hyunjin’s hands and the concrete below them.

that was hyunjin’s truest form. a demon with his black hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his nape, sweat running down the sides of his face and neck as he bit his lips and breathed hard through his nose from the exertion. his eyes burned with wrath and his inked arms displayed all of his strength. once again, you weren’t scared of him even if you knew you should have been.

he wasn’t taking out the violence nested inside of him on an innocent victim. he was punishing someone that was more monstrous and revolting that hyunjin himself could’ve ever been, and you weren’t sure about wanting to stop him. but a murder wasn’t something you could just walk away from. the people witnessing the scene weren’t going to call the police over an aggression, but if someone died something would have to be done, and you found yourself terrified at the idea of losing hyunjin in such a way. he would have gone back to hell to escape and you weren’t ready to be left alone, without him.

hands tried to hold you back but you pushed them away and stepped inside the circle, calling hyunjin’s name. his fist stopped midair and he turned to look at you, his shoulders raising and dropping as he regained his breath. “angel?”

his eyes followed as you got close to him and grabbed his arm resolutely, making his grip around the man’s throat loosen up. you didn’t seem scared like he thought, but you’d always been full of surprises. he let himself be pulled on his feet, and a smirk curved his lips when you stepped on the unconscious man’s genitals hard enough to make him wail in pain, before leading hyunjin away from the crowd.

——— ･:*✧ ———

hyunjin’s place was anonymous, nothing could suggest that there was someone living in it, except for the bed. you observed the sheets in disarray and then looked up to the headboard. the dark wood was chipped, little pieces of it had come off and the wall behind it was worn out, as if the headboard had hit it repeatedly until the paint had started to break. you looked back at hyunjin as he closed the door behind him and the confused look on your face made him chuckle. he raised his eyebrows and you felt your cheeks starting to burn, so you turned away to not let him see. sex, of course.

“i know you’re blushing, angel, no need to hide,” hyunjin said, walking closer until you felt his breath hit your neck. “you look pretty when you’re shy.”

you sucked in a breath as you felt the ghost of his hands on your hips, before he moved to the side and went to sit on his bed. he groaned as he did so and you remembered the task at hand.

“i need towels, and painkillers.”

“there’s towels in the bathroom and i don’t fucking need painkillers, i’m a demon.”

“you’re human right now,” you reminded him as you opened the door to the small bathroom.

“humans are stupid and weak, their bodies are useless,” you heard him say as you ran a couple towels under the sink. “well, except for one thing.”

you turned the water off and walked back to him, gasping as hyunjin took off his shirt. the dark material had hid it well, but now you could clearly see the blood spilling from his ribs.

“is that a fucking stab wound?!” you shouted as you dropped the towels on the bed and kneeled in front of him to look at the injury.

“he barely scratched me, that’s just- wait,” he said, his smile getting bigger as he realized what you’d said. “did you just say fucking?”

you ignored hyunjin’s words and pressed a towel over the injury to stop the bleeding, until he grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

“it’s just a cut, angel, i moved away before he could seriously hurt me or that woman,” he reassured you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. you sighed in relief and leaned into his touch, your skin getting stained by the blood on his hands, unaware of the turmoil building in hyunjin’s chest.

you, his pretty angel kneeling between his legs, caring for his injuries and saying the bad words you’d picked up from him after kicking a man in the balls. forgotten feelings were filling his stomach and making his cold heart beat faster than anything else could, faster than any random fuck or any fist fight. hyunjin had always known you were different, the weirdest angel he’d ever met, and it made you unbelievably beautiful in his eyes. you made him want to be gentle, to make you happy, and it made him want to ruin what was left of your angelic innocence, too. but he could never hurt you, so, for the first time in his centenarian existence, he was going to be soft, just for you.

“is this my sweater?” he asked, running his finger along its neckline.

you nodded, picking up a towel to clean your bloodstained cheek before doing the same with his hands. “you left it at my place.”

“it looks better on you,” hyunjin said, smiling as he saw you bite back a smile of your own.

once his hands were as clean as you could manage and the cut on his ribs had stopped bleeding, you searched for other wounds. the only one you could see was the little cut on his nose bridge, and you figured the man had gotten in a punch before getting his face destroyed. you reached up to clean it but hyunjin’s hands were on your waist before you could do anything.

“get up from the floor, angel,” he said. his voice was almost a whisper as he lifted you up without needing your help.

you sat on his lap with your legs on either side of him, the closeness making your head spin. you watched your hand tremble as you moved his hair away from his face, hyunjin’s hands caressing your back. he now had to look up at you and he felt all of his smugness wash away, his lips parted as he took in every small detail. perfect, from the last hair on your precious head to the tips of your toes. how could you be so perfect for him?

you felt shy under his gaze, the softness in his eyes unknown to you both. “hyunjin?”

“i want to kiss you so bad,” he said. his voice was low and you shivered, your hands tightening where they were placed on his shoulders while his traveled up your back until he was holding the back of your head, fingers carded through your hair. “do you want me to, angel?”

you did, and you didn’t need to think about it. this wasn’t a demon trying to corrupt an angel. it was you and hyunjin, uncaring of the laws of the universe saying you should hate each other, in love. because you could feel it, the earth-shattering love growing between you, could’ve even touched it had you been in your angelic form. the only physical manifestation of it you had right there was your gasping heart and the emotion in hyunjin’s eyes, and it was enough.

hyunjin’s lips swallowed your inexperienced ones, pulling whimpers from you as he bit and licked and overwhelmed you with new sensations. his hands roamed down your body and pulled you impossibly closer. he sucked harshly on your bottom lip and then left a trail of wet kissed down your neck as you gasped for hair, hugging his neck tightly. he bit and sucked on the sensitive skin, and you felt his smirk when he found a spot that made you yelp. angry red now adorned your throat, and the demon looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction before kissing you again.

his hands disappeared under your sweater and hyunjin leaned back to look at you with a glint in his red irises. “what were you thinking when you left your house like this, angel?”

your cheeks burned red as you remembered the cotton shorts you’d been wearing the entire time. they were a flimsy, baby blue material, barely covering your bum while you slept, and the same went for the matching top you were sporting as well. one of your hands flew to cover your mouth as hyunjin’s slender fingers reached your left nipple, toying with the hardened bud while his eyes never left your face. he grabbed your wrist and uncovered your mouth, drinking in your flustered expression. under you, the tent in his pants was now poking your thigh unashamedly.

“were you thinking of me, mmh? going out half naked and covering up with my sweater, such a bad girl.”

hyunjin grabbed the hem of the sweater to pull it off and you swiftly raised your arms to help him, impatient to have his lips back on yours. addictive was one word to describe the way he kissed you, and suddenly you wanted to find out what else he could do to make you feel this way. the fastest way to do so was pushing his buttons, and you’d spent enough time around him to know just what to say.

the sweater hit the floor and you cupped hyunjin’s face. “i’m not a bad girl, i’m your little angel.”

his hands on your thighs slipped under your shorts to grab your butt cheeks, hard. “you are?”

he raised a challenging eyebrow at you before leaning in and mouthing at your covered breasts. you moaned as he sucked on it and then moved up, kissing your collarbones while moving your top’s strap down your shoulder.

“i am,” you stuttered out, “i thought of you so much these days, i even t-touched myself while thinking about you, hyunnie.”

you felt him smile against your skin and come up to kiss you properly, now hugging your waist. you melted at the way his tongue danced with yours, a weight lifted from your shoulders. you’d sinned because of him and you didn’t regret it, knowing he liked it made you feel proud.

“did you like it, angel? did it make you feel good?”

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “it felt a little good but… weird? i don’t think i did it properly.”

hyunjin laughed, and the burning feeling he was laughing at you had your cheeks going red in embarrassment. “my pretty girl can’t even touch herself properly, mmh? that’s alright, i’m gonna teach you how to do it.”

you squealed as he picked you up and let you fall on the soft mattress, your hair spread around you like a halo. his shirtless form hovered over you like a vision as he took off your shorts and pried your shaking legs open. he smirked at the wet patch on your panties before subtly dragging his knuckles over it, making you gasp and tremble.

“look at you, so wet and sensitive for me already.”

hyunjin laid next to you on his side, propped up on his elbow so he could see all of you. you looked up at him with wide eyes and his smile turned soft. “give me your hand, angel.”

he took your right hand in his and led it down your body, from your useless top to your bare stomach to where you needed it the most. you came in contact with the damp spot on your panties and pouted at the uncomfortable feeling, raising your hips to kick them off and they joined the little pile of clothes gathered on the floor.

“close your eyes,” hyunjin said, guiding your hand between your legs, “and think about me.”

you complied, and the first touch made you gasp. your free hand flied to grasp any part of hyunjin you could reach, ending up scratching at his chest as images of him flooded your mind. he whispered instructions in your ear, and a new wave of arousal gushed out of you as he pressed your middle finger on a hard nub. you screamed, your toes curling up at the pleasure.

“feels good, mmh?” he said, making you draw circles around that heavenly spot. you nodded, unable to think straight, but it wasn’t enough. “words, baby.”

“it f-feels good.”

“that’s where you wanna touch when you’re by yourself, but you’re with me right now.”

you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confused by his words. hyunjin chuckled and kissed your temple, endeared, and brought your hand lower. the burning sting of both yours and hyunjin’s fingers pushing into you made you cry out and hide your face in his neck. he hushed you softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and leaving pecks on your clammy forehead, letting you get used to the stretch.

“it hurts,” you whined, tears threatening to slide down your cherub cheeks.

“i know, angel, but it’s going to hurt even more later if we don’t do this now,” he reassured you. “be my good girl and tell me when it gets better.”

a minute passed until you finally started to relax, and from then on it felt incredible. countless of your moans and whines, muffled against hyunjin’s skin, filled the room as he added a finger and then another one. your tears started to fall when you found that first spot again, pressing against it while hyunjin stretched you open. it felt like your pleasure was building up, your sounds progressively getting louder as you trashed around on the mattress, and then it was over.

hyunjin’s long fingers slipped out and he grabbed your wrist to keep your hand away. his lips drowned your complaints as he hugged you close, your bodies sweaty and burning up against each other.

“why?” you whined, letting your damp cheek rest against this chest. hyunjin’s heart was beating fast and strong, his big hands stroking your back reassuringly.

“i can give you something better, angel,” he said, sitting up before helping you out of your top.

“better than that?” you asked in disbelief, now laying completely naked in the middle of the bed under hyunjin’s hungry gaze. he laughed at you again and your thighs rubbed against each other, instinctively trying to create some friction.

“you have no idea how good i can make you feel, that’s not even half of it, baby.”

you watched mesmerized as hyunjin took off his pants, the clinking of his belt as it fell on the floor making you shudder. every time you saw him you thought he couldn’t get more gorgeous, and he proved you wrong every time. your half-lidded eyes got drunk off how perfect the demon looked standing there, arrogant in the way he touched himself, a moving work of art. his gaze licked down your own body as if it were an actual touch, and you smiled at how beautiful it made you feel.

your legs went willingly when hyunjin’s hands grabbed your thighs gently and made a space for himself between them, but they started to shake when you felt him prod at your core. his fingers had hurt before, you were afraid of the pain you were about to experience.

“angel, look at me,” hyunjin said, smiling softly at the way you were holding your hands close to you in an attempt to reassure yourself. he leaned down to kiss your lips, your noses bumping together and making you giggle. “don’t be scared, it passes quickly and then it feels good.”

“really?”

“you know i don’t lie to you.”

you felt the pain as he was kissing you again, swallowing your cries and pecking away your tears. hyunjin waited for you to relax under him, something he’d never done for anybody else, and held you close as you left marks on his back.

“breathe, baby,” he said, caressing down your sides. “tell me when you’re ready.”

true to hyunjin’s words, it didn’t take long for the tension and hurt to melt away, your flesh going lax as you sighed in relief. he settled deeply inside of you, the sting from the stretch still present but you found it strangely pleasurable, and you hugged his neck before whispering. “you can move.”

“that’s my good girl.”

the demon’s eyes sparkled red and then he set a pace that was brutal, eliciting screams and noises you’d never heard yourself make before, hyunjin’s own moans quickly joining yours. your fingers got tangled in his hair, now wet with the same sweat that was falling on your skin in droplets, his skin absolutely searing.

you wrapped your legs around his waist and your eyes rolled in the back of your head when he changed the angle, finding just the right spot. a string of words barely resembling hyunjin’s name left your throat as he wrapped an hand around it, pressing just enough to make you lightheaded.

“you’re perfect, angel,” he said, his voice low and breathy as he panted. he took your hand in his and brought it to your stomach. “you’re doing so well, you did this, my good girl. right here, feel how well you’re taking me.”

you looked down between the two of you, still gasping for air when you felt it, him moving under your skin, and something loosened. a shudder washed over you and your hands tightened around hyunjin’s neck, both keeping him close and pushing him away as you screamed.

hyunjin only slowed down for a minute, barely letting you catch your breath before picking up the pace again. you whined as the feeling got so intense it started to hurt but he only hushed you down, singing your praises and sweetly torturing you at the same time. you had to endure the same high times and times again before hyunjin started to lose his rhythm, and then you felt warmth flooding you and his body fell on you, covering you completely as his muscles trembled violently.

kisses smothered your wet cheeks, when did you start to cry again? your mind was hazy with exhaustion and still high on the most intense and sublime sensations you’d ever experienced. you noticed how dark the room had gotten and wondered just how much time had passed, but you didn’t really care. every bone in your body ached and hyunjin was still inside of you, contributing to the uncomfortable feeling of laying on a bed dirty with your own blood and sweat. but that was the best place on earth, where the heavy smell of sex met the heavenly scent of your lover.

you stroked hyunjin’s dark hair and he turned to look at you, eyes full of wonder. “how were you the best?”

“the best?” you repeated dumbfounded, your voice scratchy from all the screaming. “you’ve been with people far more used to it than me, i’m sure of it, hyunnie. it’s impossible i did better than them.”

“none of them lives up to you, i’m ruined for everyone else now.”

“you’re ruined?” you said, “what am i, then?”

hyunjin smiled. “you’re my little angel.”

do you want to read more?

banner by @blueprint-han

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crushpdf · 3 years

Text

Prompt: “You’re adorable when you’re mad”

It wasn’t when Ronan came home with bruises across his knuckles.

It wasn’t when Ronan came home with bruises on his arms.

It wasn’t even when Ronan came home with a fresh bruise blooming in an eye socket, more pink than purple still.

It was when Ronan stumbled through the front door of Monmouth Manufacturing bleeding. Two streams trickling from his nose. A smear of it on his mouth, lining his teeth. A whole gash on his temple, the blood thick and clotting and so apparent with no hair to hide it. And a thin slice down the column of his neck, clean as the cut of a knife.

This was when Gansey finally lost his temper.

“Where is he?” he demanded, the bark of his voice a shock to his own ears, even as he struggled to keep his hands gentle. They wrapped around Ronan, tugged him into the bathroom. They trembled as they turned on the tap.

“Gone, I’m sure,” Ronan mumbled. He avoided Gansey’s eye as he slouched on the lid of the toilet, looking more admonished than hurt. What a terrifying thought, that Ronan could appear at his doorstep looking like a bloody rag and care more about Gansey’s judgment than his own pain. What a terrifying thought, that he would ever imagine Gansey to judge him.

It sobered him. But only a little.

“Where is he, Ronan?” Gansey snarled. He wiped a towel against Ronan’s forehead, thankful to see the bleeding had stopped, but all that red only colored his vision, only fueled the fury in the pit of his stomach.

Ronan didn’t even wince, just ground his teeth tighter.

“He’ll be with his pack of dogs, if he’s even still there,” Ronan evaded again. He sniffed, running the back of his hand under his nose. He looked studiously at the smear, contemplating that part of his body that had made its way to the outside when it was supposed to stay inside.

Gansey took that hand in his own and wiped it clean, too.

“Ronan,” he said seriously, purposefully, intentionally, “Where. The fuck. Is Joseph. Kavinsky.”

Ronan caved.

Gansey had never driven faster.

The church emerged from the mist, still smelling of a fight.

As predicted, five figures slipped between the trees of the woods that began behind the building. Four of them were silhouetted, visible more by voice than by body. One of them was illuminated by the headlights of a car, parked dangerously close to a locked box of offerings. He was the only one not joking, not scoffing, not mindless to the rage of the night.

Joseph Kavinsky didn’t even squint when Gansey’s headlights joined his spotlight. He simply grabbed the pair of shades hooked on the front of his tank and casually threw them across his eyes.

Gansey killed the engine.

Kavinsky smirked.

“Don’t tell me you left the dog all by himself to lick his own wounds?” Kavinsky purred. At the sound of his voice the four other ghosts looked up. Their grins reflected the unyielding light. Four sets of bared teeth creeping through the woods.

“That you gave him,” Gansey spat, and his voice sounded foreign. What are you doing here? his real voice asked in the back of his head. You left him all by himself, all by himself, all by—

This was not a night to listen to his conscience.

Kavinsky leaned back against a tree, the length of his body unveiling muscle and power Gansey hadn’t noticed before. Like he was showing off. Like he was saying yes, I am capable of hurting, and I have hurt. And then his hand slipped into the front of his jeans and emerged with a slender pocket knife, and something fell in Gansey’s stomach.

Kavinsky said nothing. He just lounged there, staring, smirking, waiting for Gansey to say what it was he had come to say.

“Stop. Stop touching him. Stop talking to him. Stop looking at him, for Christ’s sake. I don’t want his name on your lips or his blood on your knuckles ever again.”

This is exactly what Gansey had wanted to say. But Kavinsky was not the person he truly wanted to say it to.

Still, Kavinsky was the one who heard it, who rolled his eyes and waved his hand, sending his shadows deeper into the woods, a sudden sense of privacy enveloping the fragile night.

“Dick,” he began, with a self-righteous condensation Gansey had never heard from him before, “Haven’t you ever considered that maybe he likes it? That maybe—” And here he paused to push off from the tree, to step closer until he was eye to eye with Gansey, “He asks me for it?”

No. No Gansey had not considered this, would never dream of considering it, couldn’t fathom why anyone would consider it—

But then Kavinsky’s full lips quirked up and the faintest eyelash fluttered through shaded lenses, and such a sudden fire ignited in Gansey’s stomach that he forgot his anger for a moment.

“Ah,” Kavinsky observed. “Now you understand.”

“I don’t—there’s nothing—he wouldn’t—”

Kavinsky’s skinny hand looped around the back of his neck, his thumb rubbed under Gansey’s ear, and everything inside him stilled. “You’re adorable when you’re mad,” he smirked, “But you’re sexy when you’re flustered.”

Gansey wrenched his body back, wrenching a caw of a laugh from Kavinsky with it. The fire had ascended to his face, where it burned his cheeks.

“I didn’t ask for it,” he finally stammered with any dignity he could assemble. “So don’t touch me.”

Kavinsky slouched back to his post on the tree, and then four shadows were moving through the woods again. “Noted, sweetheart.” He flicked the pocketknife open, then closed. Open, then closed. “But if you’re looking to feel something, you know where to find me.”

#b writes #mine #trc

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tacticaldiary · 3 years

Note

Can I make request? If yes, the I would like an atsumu x female reader, atsumu finds his s/o injured because she got into a fight? She won obviously- But her hand is full of bandages, and she has a few scars? Or he just saw her get into a fight with jealous bitches lmfao. She didn't start the fight, but got blamed for it? Or she was just trying to help a girl that was getting catcalled and ended up in a fight? Idk honestly lmao 😂 Sorry if you don't get it! I love your work! 😩💕

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Enjoy! @simpforroosterhead

Hot Days and Fistfights

Pairing: Reader x Miya Atsumu

Genre: Kinda Angsty + Fluff

He doesn’t know whether to be proud or scared that his girlfriend can beat someone twice the size of her up. All he knows is that he’s glad she’s okay.

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“It’s too hot for this, ‘Tsumu.” Y/N whines, swinging their clasped hands back and forth as they walk down the street. They were heading over to his house after having spent time together at one of the local parks.

“Must be my presence.” He sends a grin her way when she rolls her eyes and elbows him in the side.

“You know what? You’re right, but if Osamu were here it would be scorching.”

“I-...you’re supposed to be on my side, babe!” he whines, tugging at her arm. He starts going off on a tangent about why he’s the better twin, and Y/N ignores him for the most part. She hums under her breath as they walk, but stops suddenly when she spots a convenience store.

“-and honestly, who the hell wants grey hair? Mine is clearly-”

“Let’s get ice-cream.” she cuts him off, pulling him along to the store. He sighs but agrees, the cold treat sounding like a good idea to cool off. The store is a little crowded so Atsumu asks her to stay outside and wait for him. She complies easily, having no desire to be stuck in a confined place full of sweaty people.

She leans against one of the walls next to the store, and looks around her. It was just about time for sunset, the sky blossoming with graceful colours of orange and yellow. Maybe she would ask Atsumu if she could stay over for the night. She contemplates the idea, but her attention I caught by a young woman, around her age she thinks, nearly brushes past her. She looks nervous and keeps glancing behind her.

Y/N’s about to call after her to ask if she’s alright, but someone beat her to it. Unfortunately the other person's intentions aren’t as pure as hers.

“Oi! Come back here. Stop ignoring me.” The woman stops abruptly and turns around.

“I told you to leave me alone, sir.” her voice shakes a little. Y/N can tell what’s happening and she doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” The man in question moves closer to her. He’s dressed shabbily and Y/N nearly gags from the putrid smell of tobacco, even though she’s a good few meters away from him. “I can show you a good time. Gimme a chance, sweetheart.” he smirks, moving loser to her. The woman backs away fearfully, and squeaks when he grabs her arm and pulls her towards him. Y/N has seen enough.

“Hey! She told you to leave her alone.” She moves over to them, scowling. “Piss off.”

“Oh? Feisty, aren’t we?” he grins, but doesn’t let go of the woman, who’s looking at Y/N with scared eyes. It infuriates her. “And what are you going to if I don’t, hmm?”

“Last chance. Let her go and fuck off.”

“How about no. Someone needs to teach you-” Y/N cuts him off by clocking him straight in the jaw. The man stumbles backwards in surprise and groans in pain. He winces before looking back at Y/N angrily. Stepping in front of the woman, who just stands there frozen, he says.

“She clearly wants nothing to do with you. People might get the wrong idea, seeing filth like you touch others like that.” She shakes out her hand, turning back to the stunned woman, making sure she’s okay.

Y/N has no time to react, before she’s knocked to the ground. Clenching her jaw as she feels a stinging pain on her forehead, she turns onto her back and attempts to stand. Spotting the man scowling down at her, she glares at him before kicking at his knee abruptly, sending him to the ground.

“You little-” he’s cut off again by a swift blow to his face. Y/N’s yelling profanities at him and showing no mercy as she strikes him again and again. She can vaguely hear the woman screaming behind her, yelling for someone to help break the scuffle.

She suddenly feels someone grab her waist and easily lift her off the man. Struggling against the tight grip, she whips to see her boyfriend.

“Oi. Calm down.” he pushes her behind him and hands her the plastic bag he’s holding. Turning back to the man with a glare, he says.

“What the fuck do ya think you’re doin, touching my girl?” The man responds with a groan and looks up, glaring. He falters however, when he sees Atsumu towering over him instead of Y/N. His eyes widen as he realises he’s no match for the boy, Atsumu being taller and looking visibly stronger than himself. Scoffing, he scrambles to his feet and shoots the two women a nasty look, before turning away and briskly walking away.

Sighing, Atsumu turns back to Y/N, who’s being thanked profusely by the other lady. She waves her offers to repay her off, and assures her she’ll be alright. The wince Y/N lets out when she shakes the woman's hand doesn’t get past Atsumu’s observant gaze. When she leaves, Y/N turns to her boyfriend.

“She was getting harassed, Tsumu. I had to help her.” She mumbles, gaze dropping to the floor. She was a little embarrassed she had lost it like that back there. She hears him step closer to her and feels him hook a finger under her chin. When he tilts her head up to meet her gaze, she’s startled to see him grinning proudly.

“That’s my girl! Holy shit, babe, when I saw you beating the living shit out of that guy, I thought I was dreaming!”

“Yeah, well...he deserved it.”

“You bet he did. Did he hurt you?” his voice changes to one form pride and awe to concern. He grabs her hand in his own larger, warmer ones, and brings them close to his face to inspect them. He furrows his eyebrows when he sees a couple of her knuckles had split and were bleeding sluggishly. He looks up at her, and his eyes widen in surprise as he sees her bleeding from a cut near the top of her forehead. He wipes at the blood with his palm gently, to which Y/N winces and bats his hand away.

“If I ever see him again, I swear I’ll-”

“He’s gone. I’m alright.”

He takes a steadying breath and nods. “It’s not far now. Ya think you can walk?” he gives her a small, teasing smile.

“‘Tsumu, stop being dramatic.” She huffs and starts walking. He catches up to her and they walk about 10 minutes before they reach his house. Atsumu tells Y/N to wait on the couch while he brings out a first aid kit.

He sits next to her and pulls out a bottle of disinfectant. He’s unusually gentle when he sipes the cotton over her hand.

“‘Tsumu, that stings.” she whines and tries to pull away. His grip tightens, keeping her hand in place as he continues.

“Should’ve thought about that before ya beat someone up, sweetheart.” Y/N grumbles, but gives up trying to free her hand.

He wraps her knuckles in bandages, almostly expertly, and Y/n flexes her fingers, impressed. The scratch on her head wasn’t too deep and had already stopped bleeding.

“Wow. You know what you’re doing for once.”

“Love ya too.” he smirks. “But I’m not done yet.”

“Not done yet?”

“Nope.” He shuffles closer to her, till their sides are touching. “You’re missing the most important part.”

“Is that so?” She decides to humor him. Nodding, he reaches towards her face and brushes back her hair. Bringing his mouth to her forehead, he kisses her on the scratch. “Gotta kiss it better. Obviously.” He grins, pulling her knuckles to himself and doing the same over the bandages.

“Obviously.” repeats, amused. When he tries to go for her forehead again, she leans away. “So, what about that ice-cream?”

“It melted.” He mutters, leaning forward, trapping her between the couch’s arm and himself. “There’s probably more in the freezer.” Y/N leans back farther, purposefully avoiding him and she laughs under her breath when he pouts.

“C’mon, babe, work with me here.”

“I’m fine, ‘Tsumu. I just want the ice cream now.”

“You’d choose ice-cream over my kisses?” he raises an eyebrow.

“One of them is much sweeter.” she leans forward next to his ear, as if to tell him a secret. “It’s not you, by the way.” He pulls away and sits back up, crossing his arms.

“Wow, alright. Get your own ice-cream then. Ignore your boyfriend who just patched you up.”

“You're gonna make your injured girlfriend get up and get it?”

“Last time I checked, you could walk.” he points outs. She sighs and scoots closer to him. He lets him peck her on the forehead, and his face breaks into a smile.

“Was that so hard? You’re welcome.” He stands when Y/N shoves him playfully. Grabbing a carton of chocolate ice cream from the freezer, and two bowls and spoon, he takes it back to the couch. Y/N looks at the carton and raises an eyebrow. She points to the sticky note that reads:

‘Touch this and you’re dead, ‘Tsumu.’

Atsumu leans over and plucks the note off the carton, crumpling it up and throwing it over his shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” he tilts his head innocently.

Y/N shakes her head, smiling, and grabs a bowl. He was an idiot. Looking over she sees him struggling to scoop the treat out and her smile widens.

He was her idiot though, and she was thankful to have him.

Requests are Open and Welcome

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phis-corner · 4 years

Note

Could you do a 23 Jason x Marinette? I also want to say I really love your fanfics.

Ohhh yes one of my favorite ships to write (and hurt.) Enjoy!

23- “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Of course, it’s just her luck that she stumbles across a Gotham vigilante bleeding to death from not one, not two, but three stab wounds in the alley across from the fabric store she’s headed to.

And obviously, she’s not about to let him die.

So she gets Trixx to cast an illusion so no passerby sees a five foot girl carrying a man who must weigh at least 230 pounds without breaking a sweat through a blue portal, then asks Kaalki to open a portal home.

Marinette scoops up the vigilante, a red bat splayed across grey kevlar and red helmet hiding his features, and enters her bathroom, setting the guy down in the bathtub (because she is not getting blood all over her apartment, okay?), grabbing her medical kit, setting up a blood transfusion because there was a lot of blood in that alleyway (this guy is so lucky she’s a universal donor) and getting to work disinfecting his wounds.

Just as she’s about to start stitching them up, the vigilante awakens.

Marinette would probably have been more impressed if the first thing out of his mouth wasn’t “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

She threads a needle. “Oh, you know, just preparing to sew up the three stab wounds in your torso that made you bleed half to death in an alleyway. Nothing major.”

The mystery guy (she’s already calling him Red Helmet in her head) hums, still only halfway conscious. “Sounds kinda major to me. Ya shouldn’t be sewing stab wounds.”

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t get stabbed.” Marinette retorts, tying the first laceration shut. “You didn’t seriously expect me to just let you die in the alleyway next to my favorite fabric store, did you?”

“This is Gotham, babe. Nobody even blinks an eye here.” Red Helmet mutters.

She doesn’t really know how to respond to that depressing statement. “That’s not right.” She finally says.

Red Helmet snorts, then winces. “Tell me ‘bout it.”

Marinette ties off the second wound. “So, do you have a name, Mr. Vigilante Person? Is it Red Helmet? Because that’s what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

“What? No!” Apparently-Not-Red-Helmet protests. “It’s Red Hood! And I’m an antihero!”

She waves her non-dominant hand lazily. “Eh, technicalities. Besides, Red Hood is stupid. You don’t even wear a hood. I’m going to call you Red Helmet.”

“But it’s Red Hood!”

“I’m calling you Red Helmet and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it, monsieur.” She ties off the third stab wound and leans back, admiring her handiwork. “There. Now I just have to bandage them, and you’re free to leave after your blood transfusion finishes, which should be in another two and a half hours.”

“Two and a half hours?” Red Helmet yelps, twisting around and finally noticing the IV in his arm. “I can’t stay in a civilian apartment for two and a half hours!”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Will all due respect, Red Helmet, your average civilian doesn’t have the medical equipment necessary to set up a blood transfusion.”

“It’s Red Hood.” He barks. “And if you’re not a civilian, what are you?”

“Not a criminal, if that’s what you’re asking.” She grins. “You’re a Bat, aren’t you? Find out.”

Red Helmet leans back in her bathtub, grumbling. “How’d you even know my blood type, anyway?”

“I’m a universal donor.” Marinette tucks the last of her supplies back into her massive medkit and puts it back in her cabinet, stretching and feeling her spine crack. “Would you like something to occupy the next 150 minutes? A book, maybe? I have a large selection of classical literature.”

“Do you have Pride and Prejudice?” Red Helmet asks, somehow managing to look like a cute puppy even with the helmet on, and she smiles.

“Of course I do. I’m not a heathen.” Marinette goes to her living room, plucks her copy of the book off of her bookshelf, and returns to the bathroom to hand it to him. He takes it with eager but gentle hands, flipping to the first page and immediately buries himself in the book.

Marinette exits the room and sets a timer for two and a half hours, then settles at her desk to do some designing. All too soon, the timer goes off, and she returns to the bathroom.

“Time’s up.” She announces, and Red Helmet’s head snaps up. “You’re free to go now.”

“Already?” He asks, taking out the IV with precision that can only come from prior experience.

Marinette nods. “Would you like to exit through the front door, the balcony, or do you have a specific window in mind?”

“Balcony will do, thanks.” Red Helmet says breezily, not realizing that she was joking. Sort of. The sarcasm was heavy in her words.

She opens her balcony doors, and lets him out, the cool night breeze ruffling her clothes as she looks out over the Gotham skyline.

Red Helmet whistles, an odd sound when coming through the audio filters of his helmet. “Wow, that’s some view you got there.”

Marinette shrugs. “Yeah, well, you get paid very nicely when you’re Jagged Stone’s designer and get commissions from all sorts of big names.”

The helmet’s eye slits narrow. “Wait, seriously? You’re Jagged Stone’s mystery designer? MDC? And you’re apparently not a civilian, as you said earlier? Who the fuck are you?”

Marinette grins and says nothing, simply booting him off her balcony and giving a cheerful little wave as he curses and fires his grapple, swinging away.

A week later, Minette purposefully runs into Red Helmet along his usual patrol route, handing him a card with ��MDC’ emblazoned on it in curling golden script, with a phone number and a smiley face drawn underneath.

That night, her phone buzzes with a text.

Unknown Number: What’s cookin’, good lookin’?

She smiles as her fingers tap out a reply.

M: That’s the second time you’ve used it on me.

M: You have got to find some better pick-up lines.

Unknown Number: Well, it worked, didn’t it?

M: Yeah, I suppose it did.

permanent tags

@wannajointhecrabcult @miraculous-simmer7 @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @fantasyislive @chocolateherringtacofan @junarvion @susiej1118 @aestheticnpoetic @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladybug-182 @itsmeevie01 @g-arya @souleateralicestein @nightstarblue @i-is-mysterious @moonystars14 @vixen-uchiha @the-flapdoodle-noodle @labschaos @nathleigh

unspecified @momothefemur @indecisive-mess-named-me @laurcad123 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @sassakitty @fusser90

#maribat #jasonette #jason todd x marinette dupain cheng #asks #my writing

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atiny-doodles · 3 years

Text

two

HALA

genre: fantasy, romance, alt. universe

warnings: violence?

disclaimer: pirate!ateez x siren!reader, mc is already given a name, female mc

series masterlist

“The princess has been terribly injured!” Erina exclaimed. The earth-maid rarely confided with Laila, so the fact that she was rushing over with her fins expanding rapidly with exhaustion concerned the fellow water-maid.

But she looked back at the sailor she just lured. “But I just caught my dinner.” she pouted.

Erina rolled her eyes. “You’ve obviously not been paying attention at school.” she said before swimming over to the unconscious man. Lifting his hand, she showed Laila a tattoo he had of the skeleton of a sea horse crossed over with two violent red slashes on his wrist. “This insignia obviously shows that he’s a pirate. Of high rank too.”

Laila’s eyes widened. Cautiously looking around, she lowered her voice. “We should take him back to land before his crew comes looking for him right?”

Erina nodded. Pirates have had a history of hunting sirens. It’s been a while since human kind thought their species went extinct, so it’s risky capturing pirates and having their crew search the sirens' waters, potentially discovering them again.

“I will do that since I have the ability to walk on land. You need to get to the princess quick! I know your healing powers are not as developed but you're the only water-maid I could find fast enough.” Erina said.

Laila nodded and sped off in the direction Erina had come from. A couple meters away, she found a fire maid sitting by some coral with the princess in her arms. She looked at Laila with wide eyes and beckoned her over.

“Please help her. She was caught in a net from a nearby ship. They were night fishing, a-and a dolphin got caught and s-she was just trying to help!” The fire maid said, shaking before bursting into tears.

Laila wasted no time. She scanned the princess’s body and found a large open wound at her torso, right where her red tail met her belly. Focusing her energy, she took a deep breath and tried to stop the bleeding. Laila was still a kid in training, so she wasn’t sure if she could do this. If she failed to save the princess, would she be imprisoned? For sure she would be hated by the fire clan for the rest of her life for causing the death of their beloved royal daughter. She might even be executed.

She started to hyperventilate. Her powers were starting to get shaky. Her hands were trembling, trying to control the healing properties gifted by the water around her, but she couldn’t. She could see steady wisps of blood leave the princess’s body and float into the clear water above her, tinting the ocean crimson red. The light sobs of the fire-maid were starting to get heavier.

“W-why is she bleeding harder?”

“I don’t know!”

“You’re hurting her stop!”

The fire maid started to shake Laila. She lost her focus, letting the energy from her fingers slip. Clasping her chest, she violently gasped for air. With teary eyes, she looked back down at the princess.

Her fiery red tail started to fade into a dull orange. The steady streams of blood that flowed out of her body turned into bubbles. Her finger tips, her gills, and even the small strands of hair on her eyelashes started to fade into foam.

The fire maid started to wail louder, pushing Laila out of her way and hugging the princess.

“No! No, don't do this! Poseidon save us!” she pleaded.

The princess faded into a ghostly white hue of sea foam and floated away from her arms. Dissolving into the sea, she left nothing but the red tint of the ocean water of what was once her hurting body.

Laila stared at the red wisps as it floated away. All she could hear were the wails of the fire maid next to her.

A soft hand adorned her shoulder, snapping her out of her trance. “Thank you,” someone whispered from behind her.

The two sirens turned around to the voice. Eyes widened in shock, Laila bowed down to her.

“M-My Queen!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I tried my best I-I didn’t know what to do.”

The fire maid who was on the ground sobbing rose up. Her eyes focused on Laila and all she could feel was fury. Making the water around her boil, her tear clouded eyes focused onto Laila with nothing but hatred.

“You traitor! You purposefully made Ashira bleed out. You killed her!”

Curling her hand back, she aimed the boiling water at Laila’s back. But before she could strike, the Queen promptly waved her arm, sending a gush of heat back at her stopping her attack.

“Adira, calm yourself!” the Queen exclaimed.

She leaned down to the water maid and helped her up. “You’re a warrior.” she said. “Thank you for trying your best to save the princess.” The Queen gave her a warm smile, calming Laila down.

“Thank you my Queen.” she said, still keeping her head down.

Adira on the other hand collapsed on the ground. “Yes, you tried your best. Actually it was my fault.” she cried.

“I could have saved her! She saw a dolphin get stuck on the fishers net and went off to save it herself. I warned her against it but she went anyway and got stuck. I should have helped her, but I was too scared. She had to fight her way out of it alone.” Adira looked from Laila to the Queen.

“She lost the royal ring Ceto!” she sobbed. “This is all my fault.”

Queen Ceto is known by mortals as the Goddess of the sea. She is the oldest known siren in existence and has defeated many legendary sea monsters in her lifetime. Although she’s a fierce fighter, she is kind and loved by all the siren clans.

But no one ever called her by her real name.

Laila turned to the fire maid. “Who are you?” she asked. She realized she was being rude, but she was confused and wanted an explanation.

The fire maid straightened her back and wiped away her tears. “I am Adira. I was princess Ashira’s advisor,” she hesitated, “and I looked at her as my closest sister.”

Queen Ceto looked at the young maid softly. “I understand how you’re feeling, young Adira. I looked at Ashira as my own daughter.”

Adira looked at the ground in shame.

“But I look at you as my own daughter as well.”

Adira looked up with wide eyes. “My Queen-”

“And so if you will accept, will you please be the new crown princess?” Ceto asked. She turned to Laila. “What do you think young water-maid?”

“I think there is no one more qualified than Adira, my Queen.” Laila responded. The Queen raised a brow at her. “Oh, I mean princess Adira.”

Adira looked back and forth at both the sirens and let out a sigh. “I’m honored, but I don’t think I’m qualified enough.”

“Which is why you will go through a test.”

Adira was stunned at Queen Ceto’s words. “A test?”

“Of course! You think this position is something I can hand out so freely?”

“No, of course not my Queen.”

“And I’m sure you feel upset at how former princess Ashira was unfairly taken away from us?”

Adira made fists with her hands. Her breath got heavier and the water around her started to steam. Laila backed away from her in fear.

But Queen Ceto seemed unfazed. “I thought so. And so my dear, your mission is to get revenge on those who killed our princess.”

Adira furrowed her brows. “For sure my Queen.” but she hesitated. “But, how am I supposed to do this?”

“You have all the sirens and sea creatures supporting you. If there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask the clan leaders.”

Laila perked up at this. “If you would like Adira, I can ask my clan leader to give you medicine and supplies!”

Queen Ceto nodded. “The Earth Clan can also help you get temporary legs.” She paused for a moment. “I’m not sure the Air Clan won’t be very fond of the idea of helping you though.”

Both young sirens nodded. The Air Clan often kept to themselves and rarely confided in the other clans. They were a very powerful clan on their own, sustaining themselves for centuries.

Adira took a deep breath. “That’s alright. I trust that every siren will have my back regardless.” She turned to Laila. “I promise to avenge our sister.”

Looking down and letting the boiling water around her rest in a simmer, she looked up to the water maid. “Thank you, and I’m sorry about my attitude earlier.”

Laila smiled reassuringly at Adira. “It’s alright. And I believe in you princess Adira.”

#hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez x atiny #ateez x reader #fantasy #ateez fanfic #fanfic #ateez ff #alternature universe #fantasy romance #pirates #sirens

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taexual · 4 years

Text

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (6)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst + maybe jealous!kook 👀

words: 3.2k

chapter six

You stayed in the whole day on Sunday – which was nothing new since you had three classes to prepare for on Monday, not to mention a possible encounter with Jungkook to brace yourself for – so, going out the next morning, even if it was 8:30 AM, felt surprisingly refreshing. After not talking to anyone besides your roommate the whole day yesterday, it felt unexpectedly nice to make some small-talk with other people.

You got coffee at the local coffee shop before heading to your first class and were surprised to feel your stomach fill with disappointment when the class started and Jungkook didn’t show up. Although, truth be told, you weren’t sure if he was even taking this class at all. Knowing his weekend habits, taking a 9 AM class on a Monday morning seemed like a sure-fire plan for failing. And, honestly, you shouldn’t have cared about his whereabouts anyway. But you did as you found yourself looking for him in every class you went to that day, nearly forgetting your plans to meet up with Namjoon in the afternoon.

You ended up not seeing Jungkook today, after all – good! – and you returned to your dorm, feeling somehow let down – bad! – and annoyed. Grateful for the plans you’d made with Namjoon, you mentally cursed yourself for getting attached to people so easily, and headed to the kitchen for a quick snack before you prepared the work space.

You had already cleared your desk, found the movie you’d promised to show Namjoon, and even started to read one of the books for the project, when your phone buzzed.

Thinking it was your partner for Sociology letting you know he was on his way over, you were in no hurry to pull back from the chapter you’d just started. But as soon as you teared your eyes away from the book and checked the screen of your phone, a bolt of electricity struck you.

It was Jungkook calling you.

You figured that the two of you must have had a similar thought process because you’d wanted to call him as well, but – contrary to him, by the looks of it – you ended up choosing to stay away. All of your restraint would have backfired if you’d seen him in class today – you were sure of it – but you chose not to dwell on that right now. You focused on your success instead; you’d avoided him for almost two days now – what’s another two years, right?

However, as you stared at his name on the screen of your phone, you really wanted to answer the call. You wanted to hear his voice.

And yet, you could already imagine the conversation you were going to have.

Apologizing wasn’t something that was difficult for you. You could have easily told him that you’d overreacted when you’d last seen him. But an apology would have brought closure, and closure would bring another attempt at a friendship that would eventually end – just like it did before.

The end seemed inevitable. You’d be heartbroken for another seven years – okay, maybe not heartbroken, but it would definitely sting for many more years to come, just as it had before – while he’d be fine, playing shows with his best friends and getting drunk every weekend.

So, choosing to suffer and not give in to your impulses – because it was supposed to save you a lot of pain in the long run – you did not pick up his call. Just a few days of talking to him had already messed you up enough, who knew how strong of a hold he’d establish on you if you allowed him into your life again? You had to learn from your past mistakes and stop putting him first.

The call ended almost as soon as you decided not to answer and you felt yourself release a shaky breath that you’d been holding as your phone vibrated restlessly.

You’d persevered this time. Maybe you’d manage to keep this up all the way to graduation – “Do you still plan everything out in advance?” Jungkook’s voice asked in your head, – but, just in case you couldn’t, you turned the vibration on your phone off and placed it—screen-down—on your desk.

Several minutes later, Namjoon finally arrived with a tentative knock on the door of your room – he wasn’t sure if he got the number right – and the two of you immediately got to work, setting a plan for your project and looking through the books you’d picked up at the library a few days ago.

“We have far too many articles we can use as references,” Namjoon said, thirty minutes into your work session. He had glasses on but he’s been looking down at the desk for so long, they had slipped to the very tip of his nose. “Maybe we should focus on the newest ones?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, getting fidgety after sitting still for so long. “Not going to lie, though, this topic is starting to seem less and less interesting with every new monograph I open.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said with a sigh as he brought his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to take a break? We got through four books already, that’s progress.”

You leaned back in your chair, relieved to hear this suggestion and Namjoon laughed, understanding your answer without hearing you say it.

“We could, uh, watch the movie now if you’d like,” you said then. “Hopefully it’ll inspire us to keep working.”

He doubted a horror movie could inspire you to keep reading the unnecessarily complicated books about the connection between humans, but he’d been looking forward to watching it and, therefore, could not say no. Not to mention, you looked too tired to keep working and he felt bad.

“Alright, sure,” he said, “it’ll be a good distraction. It’s been a long day today anyway.”

“It really has,” you agreed and turned your laptop to face yourself, “I’ll set it up and—”

“Oh!” he gasped suddenly, sitting up straight and startling you. “I was going to bring popcorn! I forgot. I came here right from my last class.”

The thought was really sweet – because you didn’t ask him to bring anything – and it got you to smile.

“That’s okay,” you said and then remembered, “actually, there’s a convenience store across the street, I could go get it.”

“I’ll do it,” Namjoon said, his determination bringing him out of his chair and into your hallway before you could react. “I’m the guest here, after all! And I shamelessly came without anything.”

He was now calling out to you from the other room as he put his shoes on, so you stood up and walked to the threshold of the bedroom.

“Well, to be fair, as the host, I should have been the one to provide the popcorn,” you pointed out but Namjoon was already halfway out the door.

He chuckled at this, fixing his glasses again as he grabbed his backpack, double-checking if the wallet was there.

“It looks like we’re both still learning the proper etiquette,” he said with a good-natured smile. “I’ll get the popcorn. You set up the movie.”

He assigned jobs for you and himself again – it was something he seemed to do a lot as you’d noticed in class – but you found that you didn’t mind his bossy nature. It was nice to be around someone who knew what had to be done and didn’t waste any time with the pleasantries, telling the people around him what they had to do point-blank.

“Yes, sir,” you said and Namjoon considered apologizing for ordering you around but when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, he saw a humorous smile on your lips.

With a small--relieved--chuckle, he nodded one last time and promised to be right back before exiting your dorm and walking down the hall for the elevator.

Left alone, you automatically reached for your phone and only remembered why you’d placed it screen-down when you saw the three missed calls from Jungkook. Apparently, he’d called you twice more after you didn’t pick up.

Inhaling sharply you—pointlessly—tried to convince yourself that your heart had started to beat faster because it was just bored after having been still for so long – yeah, right – and not because Jungkook was fighting for this harder than you’d expected him to.

Then, suddenly, there came a knock on your door.

Confused, you put your phone down and headed back into the hallway of your dorm. If Namjoon forgot something, he could have just entered since the door was unlocked anyway, but he must have been too well-mannered to enter someone else’s house without an invitation—

It wasn’t Namjoon.

“Hi,” Jungkook said when you opened the door. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he lowered his eyes as soon as he saw your face, but not soon enough. You still caught the sight of a bloody gnash running down his left cheekbone.

“Jungkook—what—” you started to say but then ended up stumbling over your own thoughts as you weren’t sure what to ask him first – why he was here, or why he was bleeding. “What happened?”

“Hmm?” he appeared to have been expecting a different question. “Oh—nothing.”

It was clearly not nothing as the boy in front of you purposefully turned his whole body so he could hide the injured part of his face without raising any suspicions – which rose all the suspicions as he stood with his body unnaturally twisted towards the wall next to your door.

“Were you in a fight?” you asked, even though the answer was loud and obvious, and literally right there on his face.

“No—well, yeah, but it’s not serious,” he said, refusing to look at you still. He didn’t come here to stare at the floor but he – like a dense idiot that he sometimes was – did not expect you to ask him about the wound. “It’s just—I wasn’t in the mood and someone provoked me. It’s stupid.”

Stupid or not, he got hurt again even before his injuries from the drunken car accident had time to heal. You craved to know the reasons why he kept putting himself into these sort of situations but you weren’t going to ask; you couldn’t – not after your last conversation.

“You’re bleeding,” you pointed out the obvious.

“I know. It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine but your heart was beating too fast and you couldn’t focus on one thing at a time. Finally, you asked him the one question he’d prepared himself for.

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook raised his eyes to yours and explained very simply, “you didn’t answer my call.”

He said it as if the line of actions leading up from you, not answering his call, to him, showing up on your doorstep, was straight, natural, and absolutely understandable.

You didn’t know what to say to that – it was a comment about as obvious as the “you’re bleeding” one that you’d made just a second ago – but since you were exchanging observations instead of offering explanations, you leaned against the door-frame with your shoulder and crossed your arms over your chest, ready to keep going.

“Right,” you said. “You weren’t in class today.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded and, finally, provided an explanation – however poor it was – for (some of) his actions, “I wasn’t—I didn’t feel like coming.”

You weren’t in a position to question him about this further. And even if you were, he probably wouldn’t have answered you anyway – his defensive stance made that very clear.

“I see,” you said. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said again – it was the only word he seemed to have no problems with – and then added after a moment’s hesitation, “I know it’s not a good enough reason but—”

You cut him off, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought he flinched as he watched your eyes for a lingering moment and then took half a step back. “No, I’m just—”

“Like you said,” you reminded him then, your crossed arms suddenly threatening, “it’s none of my business.”

Jungkook swallowed, his jaw clenched. “”I’m—uh, about what I said… I—”

“Jungkook,” you said and the sound of his name coming from your lips – even under such uncomfortable circumstances – sounded pleasant to his ears. “You… you probably shouldn’t have come.”

You were pushing him away. For the first time in your life, you were standing up to him and Jungkook – with a bruised sense of self-worth and a chest that throbbed with pain much worse than the wound on his cheek – couldn’t help but feel a little scared. You weren’t relenting to him. You weren’t letting him have his way.

Seven years have ensured you learned from your past mistakes.

And that was why Jungkook did not—could not—walk away from your door. He had to prove himself to you now – he’s never had to do that to anyone who wasn’t his father before. And in this particular moment, proving his worth to his father seemed much easier than proving it to you.

“I know that,” he said, now wary that the damage he’d done to your friendship may have been irreversible. “I just didn’t like the way our last conversation ended. I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

You sighed. “I—no, look. It was me who started it. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that so out of the blue.”

“No, don’t. You had every right to do that. It was—”

“Jungkook,” you said again and if you weren’t going to stop saying his name, he felt like he might have to get his hands out of his pockets and touch you because this was starting to become a torture. “Even though we could have been more mature and just talked about it, you were right when you said that it wasn’t my business to worry about you. It really isn’t.”

He swallowed, a sparkle of fire flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s—”

“No,” you cut him off one last time because you knew something was going to stop you from doing it again: either you wouldn’t manage to open your mouth or he’d throw you against the wall to stop you from talking in some different way because, God knew, Jungkook sure looked like he was seconds away from doing just that. “It’s probably not a good idea for us to—”

“Oh,” a surprised gasp was suddenly heard down the hall. Automatically, both of you turned your heads to look.

Namjoon was coming out of the elevator a few feet down, several bags of popcorn kernels in his hands. He looked confused and even a little embarrassed to have spoken aloud, but his flustered state did not come close to match yours.

“Namjoon,” you said, clearing your throat.

“Namjoon?” Jungkook repeated through clenched teeth, his eyes focused on the unfamiliar guy in front of him. He’d never seen him before but Namjoon had no trouble recognizing the vocalist of Parental Advisory glaring at him.

All of a sudden, Jungkook had switched from agitation and turned to pure irritation – how dare this other guy interrupt you two? – that was quickly replaced by fury – how dare this other guy be your acquaintance that was, obviously, on his way to your dorm? – and you felt the need to do some damage control.

You swore you felt less uncomfortable on the very first date you’d ever gone to – the guy tried to kiss you and bumped his forehead into yours so hard, you thought he gave you both concussions – and, up until this moment, that has been one of the few memories that still made you cringe to this day. This was going to beat it for sure, though.

As you watched Namjoon and Jungkook eye each other warily – and, in Namjoon’s case, awkwardly because he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d just walked into – you wished the earth would swallow you whole because you didn’t know what to say to them – you weren’t dating either of them, so what was there to say, really? – let alone what to do now.

Slamming the door and barricading yourself inside of your room started to seem appealing.

“We’re doing a project together,” you ended up saying, your eyes on Jungkook, even though, objectively, you knew you didn’t owe him an explanation.

And yet, as Jungkook refused to look away from Namjoon, you began to fear that getting into two fights in the span of a few hours, wouldn’t be something that Jungkook was above of. And Namjoon – who was, honestly, just an outsider caught in the middle of something you couldn’t understand yourself – didn’t deserve to get punched simply for getting the popcorn too quickly.

“Yeah,” Namjoon spoke. He felt like he had to say something – you’d have disagreed, convinced that the wrong word from him could have provoked Jungkook to act irrationally – because, reading your body language, he could tell that you were having a conflict with yourself. “We have a project due—”

“You were right,” Jungkook suddenly turned to look at you, his eyes narrow and fierce. You swallowed but didn’t get to say anything back because he added, “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“You—”

If his words didn’t shut you up, then the fact that, as soon as he said them, he turned around on his heels and walked right past Namjoon and towards the staircase certainly did.

Blinking in surprise at his abrupt departure – although, maybe you should have been grateful that he left instead of starting a fist-fight – you glanced at Namjoon who was clumsily making his way towards you.

“I feel like I’ve made the situation a lot worse by opening my mouth,” he said timidly, “or, actually, maybe I made it worse when I got off the elevator. I’m sorry.”

“It’s—no,” you shook your head, moving to a side so he could come in. “It was already bad before you got here.”

Namjoon hesitated outside of your door, not daring to enter. “Are you and him—?”

“No,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the word that was coming. “We just—we have some unresolved issues, clearly, but we’re—we’re not—”

“I really am sorry if I interrupted,” he said, noticing how much you struggled with the word-that-must-not-be-said.

“It’s okay,” you told him with what you thought was a small smile – but, really, your lips just barely twitched – and Namjoon finally – albeit uncertainly – entered your room. “There wasn’t anything to interrupt. He was about to leave anyway.”

But even though you’d said this, Namjoon wasn’t entirely convinced and apologized several more times throughout the movie. You kept telling him that it was fine – because it really was – but, about thirty minutes into Hereditary, you were no longer really listening to what he was saying, and it wasn’t because you were too into the movie.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Jungkook’s eyes as he walked away. It was the same look as the one you’d seen right before he drunkenly climbed behind the wheel of a car that night at the party.

keep reading | masterlist

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts angst #fanfiction #jungkook au #bts au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #college au #bts college au #jungkook college au

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