#{♚ x v; tbd x}

[feilien]

@r4bidog said: “an exhausted drug king easily walks into matt's bedroom and plops on his bed while he's reading a book ; he lazily starts to toy with the end of matt's shirt as he stares up at the ceiling . his scar is getting better , and everyone calls him a boss , and he's killed way too many men to reach here . ❛ i feel like i'm gonna die . . . ❜ / hi i missed them idk .” {♚ x Meme I am too lazy to find right now || Accepting x}

 Gangjae just walking into Matt’s room—without knocking, mind you—wasn’t exactly unheard of, nor was him making himself at home on Matt’s bad as though he owned it. Which, if one wanted to be pedantic about it, he technically did. But even though it wasn’t unheard of and even though Matt should really be used to it by now, it still made his heart miss a beat every single time; and he never failed to remind himself just how much he hated himself for it. It was a stupid crush, a hopeless crush, and yet he seemed unable to shake it, regardless of many girls he saw disappear in and out of his friend’s room. And, of course, every time he thought he might stand a chance of getting over it, Gangjae felt the need to do something to draw him right back in.

 Without lifting his gaze from his book, Matt raised his eyebrows as he turned a page and let out a sigh. “Yeah? What’s killing you this time? The alcohol? The drugs? The countless girls? Or everything combined?” Okay, perhaps a little too obvious. Glancing at the other, Matt gave him a once over, then shrugged his shoulders. “You look perfectly fine to me. As fine as you'll ever be, anyway.”

[feilien]

 Long Zhi nodded his head and, once again, remained silent for a moment. "People join us for all sorts of reasons. Some are as simple as money or reputation, others can get a bit more complicated like wanting to get away from their family for some reason or another. There's also those that join for protection, like you. The only thing that makes you stand out is that you're, well.. Not Chinese. It doesn't happen often." 

 "For most, the clan is like a second family, if not their only family. I think that's part of what makes the clan so strong. I know you're not... really a part of the clan. Not yet. You still have to prove yourself as trustworthy, as one of us, but... Once you have, Isen won't be able to reach you. Not without risking an all-out war, anyway."

 Setting down the half-eaten bowl on the table, Long Zhi turned his head to look at Yuki. "But if it's revenge you're looking for, I don't know if the clan is going to be of any help. We operate on two completely different territories, and we'd risk an all-out war the same as Isen if we made any move on him or his people. Lǎo ye would never let that happen."

 "But..." Leaning back into the couch, Long Zhi shrugged his shoulders and scratched Bao behind his ear. "If anything ever happens while I'm with you, I'll have your back by any means necessary. I'm not in the habit of letting one of our own down."

Thankfully, Long Zhi didn't make him explain himself. Didn't make him relive it, didn't ask any questions. Simply focused on another part of the story. Though relief spread through him, Yuki wasn't able to relax, not with the way his heart pounded. Not when anxiety was gutting him right there on his living room couch.

The bowl was warm and Yuki shifted his hand, cradling it underneath. The soup smelled good, and he wouldn't waste it -- despite how his stomach twisted at Long Zhi's apology. It was a night of firsts -- and it was empathy in its purest form coming from Long Zhi. Not pity. That alone kept Yuki from throwing up his defenses. Long Zhi hid behind walls, and Yuki hid behind a smile, a promise he was alright.

This was dangerous ground, he knew -- but somehow, he couldn't find it in him to care. A silent agreement that nothing would leave this apartment hung between them. And so, Yuki spoke.

"I'm not strong enough to go after him," Yuki admitted with a rough voice, idly stirring the soup. "You are. I could get stronger with the Dragons, I'd have protection if Isen ever decided to come after me." Now his frown deepened a bit and he sighed, finally letting the bowl sit in his lap.

"I'm sure it made no sense, why I would join your clan. But I've wasted enough time." Yuki grit his teeth. "He's taken enough from me."

Which one?

[feilien]

@draconisa  said: “" i didn't know where else to go... "” {♚ x Meme I am too lazy to find right now || Accepting x}

 It was somewhat late, and Matt had only just taken a break from studying to cook himself something to eat, lest he waste away after not eating for a few hours. He’d hardly gotten any of his prep done, when there’d been a knock on his door. Not necessarily an alarming thing in and of itself, but despite a couple of years having passed, he still remained paranoid for fear of being found. And he simply wasn’t expecting anyone, let alone at this time.

 For a moment, he considered ignoring it. Perhaps someone had put in the wrong apartment number for a delivery? But what if that wasn’t the case, and any second someone was about to kick in the door with him woefully underprepared. So he tightened his grip around the knife still in his hand, and slowly, warily, made his way over to the door.

 A quick look through the peephole, however, had his whole body relax and him sigh in relief. No delivery person, and no thugs out to get him. But then alarm bells went off yet again, and he quickly opened the door. “Daenerys? What— Is everything alright?”

 " i didn't know where else to go... "

 There was no hesitation as he stepped aside, both confused and worried. “Come in. What’s wrong?”

[feilien]

@draconisa said: “[ FEVER ]: having noticed the sender beginning to spike a fever, receiver presses a cool cloth to their forehead to try and bring it down. 👀” {♚ x Meme I am too lazy to find right now || Accepting x}

 Matt wasn’t entirely sure when things had changed. The past couple of years had been spent mostly alone since arriving in NYC; partly because he was just too busy with studies to be out and about, and partly because his persisting paranoia made him hesitant to spend any extended periods of time outside of his apartment unless absolutely necessary.

 That paranoia, however, didn’t seem to extend to Daenerys and Rhaego, and he somehow found himself in their apartment more frequently as time passed. Today was no exception. After taking Bao for a walk, they’d gotten settled in Dany’s living room and had put on a movie Rhaego had probably seen about fifty times at this point, but still demanded they watched again anyway. Matt didn’t mind—his eyes had the habit of drifting over to Daenerys anyway.

 Which was how he picked up on her flushed cheeks, dewy-looking face, and consistent nodding off. After reaching out to feel her forehead, it became quite clear why: she was burning up. Still, she insisted she was fine and it took what felt like forever and every bit of persuasion Matt had to get her to agree to at least lay down on the couch. So stubborn.

 Once she was settled in and Rhaego preoccupied with both the movie and Bao, Matt got a couple of things together and sat back down on the couch with a cloth in his hand. Running his fingers through her hair to move it out of her face, he then dabbed the cloth gently along her forehead, before laying it across. “I have no plans for the rest of the night. I can watch Rhaego, so you can get some rest.” Reaching for the cup he’d set down on the table, he held it out for her to take, if she wanted to. “Here. Some Chinese herbal tea. No idea what’s in it, if I’m honest, but my mother used to give it to me whenever I was sick. Works wonders somehow. Probably has some Unicorn hair in it or something.”

[feilien]

{♚ x @r4bidog x}

 As always, Long Zhi ---- Matt --- was being kept in the dark. ‘None of your business’, and ‘none of your concern, you’re here to train, nothing else’ were the only answers he got when asking about Gangjae. It drove him mad, no, it made him mad. Any other time, any other circumstances and he probably would’ve bowed his head in obedience — just as expected of him. Just as he’d been taught for all his life. Even though he was the one supposed to be giving the orders one day, it wasn’t his place to question the ones given to him now. 

 But Gangjae was his friend. His only friend. He couldn’t just sit here and pretend that everything was alright, when it clearly wasn’t. Something had happened, and now he was nowhere to be found.

 Sneaking out was easier said than done. Even though Matt was beyond proficient in stealth, he was being watched like a hawk around the clock. Not only by his own clan members, but he was fairly sure that there were others being paid to report back, too. Should they spot him, it was over. So he waited until deep into the night, then climbed out of the window of his temporary new home, and onto the roof. From there, he made his way across several blocks, before he dared to lower himself down onto the street. But that… That was the easy part.

 The next few nights were spent with a cap and hood pulled deep into his face, while he wasted hours upon hours trying to find clues as to Gangjae’s whereabouts. He was nearly out of patience and out of money when he finally came across something tangible. A doctor who’d supposedly taken care of him a few nights back. At first, it seemed like another bust; the doctor simply wouldn’t budge and give him any information, claiming he hadn’t seen his friend. But there was something off about him, something that made the hair on Matt’s neck stand up. In the end, he lost patience and let one of his trusted knives do the talking. Suddenly the doctor remembered. Yeah, he had seen him, and yes, he’d fixed up a nasty cut on his face, and he even knew where to find him!

 Feeling particularly nice that night, Matt left him was a fairly superficial cut, and instead spent his energy on making his way to said apartment. It was dirty, run-down, and generally sent a shiver down his spine. Not a place he’d willingly go otherwise. But for the sake of his friend, he kept on moving until he found himself in front of the door of the apartment Gangjae supposedly stayed in.

 Matt knocked on the door once, twice, and a third time, but there was no answer. For a moment he wondered if he had the wrong one, but after double and triple checking was confident that he was at the right number. So, after a moment of hesitation, he reached out and tried the doorknob — it opened. He stuck his head in first, glanced around, then stepped in entirely and closed the door behind him. “Gangjae?” The place was virtually empty, save for a single bed. Making his way over to the bed, he regarded the figure curled up on it for a moment, then reached out and gingerly touched its shoulder. “Hey, it’s me. Matt.”

[feilien]

@r4bidog said: "∗ 94﹕ sender pulls receiver into their lap . / uhh sorry 🫣" {♚ x 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 . ||  Accepting x}

 Life, recently, hadn’t been easy. There was no security, no comfort, no more goal to strive towards, and no more family. But, at the end of the day, it was Matt’s life. Not his grandfather’s, not his clan's, just his own. It wasn’t ideal, but at least he’d made the choice himself and he got to surround himself with someone he cared for; and who, in turn, cared for him — in his very own way, anyway. It was enough.

 As an added bonus, Matt now got to do a lot of things he couldn’t before. Like party. And drink. And hit on girls. All of which he thoroughly enjoyed, while still being responsible enough to stay away from the harder stuff. One of them had to keep a clearish mind, after all. Just because things looked less grim at the moment, didn’t mean that there was no danger still lurking in the shadows. It was just a matter of time, nothing else.

 Having just grabbed a couple more drinks, Matt made his way back to where they’d been sitting half the night by now. When squeezing his way past his friend, he suddenly felt a pair of hands and, before being able to react, suddenly found himself sitting down. On Gangjae’s lap. His heart stuttered briefly in his chest, and it took his brain a moment to catch up with what was happening. And with the way it made him feel.

 Collecting himself, he let out a drawn-out sigh, then calmly set the drinks down on the table. Another moment passed, then he finally turned around. “Are you really that fucked up already?”

[feilien]

@draconisa said: "∗ 46﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  out  of  harm’s  way . (reverse!)" {♚ x 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 . ||  Accepting x}

 Their alliance was still fresh, new, and on shaky ground at best; alas, it was necessary to accomplish their one common goal: to stop his own clan’s shady dealings. The reality of it all had hit him only recently, and it had hit him hard. Hard enough to go not only behind his clan’s back, but behind his own family’s back as well. Something completely unthinkable less than a month ago. If his grandfather ever got caught wind of it, Long Zhi would get disinherited or exiled at best, or lose his own life at worst. A risk he seemed surprisingly willing to take.

 He had been raised to fight, even to kill without hesitation, but the targets had always been enemies, or at the very least people who had wronged them. There had been a reason, an excuse. But this? They were innocent, helpless. And Long Zhi couldn’t just stand idly by and let it happen; not now that he knew.

 And while he was careful only to sneak out when he was absolutely certain beyond doubt that no one would notice his absence, he still remained paranoid to an unreasonable degree. But it was that very paranoia that made him realize that someone was following them. They were subtle and skilled, but when Long Zhi spotted them for the third time in the corner of his eye, his hands disappeared inside of his jacket and wrapped around two of his knives — just in case.

 For a while, nothing happened. But then they turned into a quiet street and the atmosphere changed all of a sudden. One moment they were hiding in a doorway, the next they jumped out with a gun in hand. It was instinct more than anything, but Long Zhi let go of one of the blades in favour of grabbing Daenerys’ sleeve and pulling her towards him. The bullet whizzed by, and just a fraction of a second later, he had pulled out his knife and returned the favour. Except… Long Zhi didn’t miss. The blade was securely lodged in the assailant’s chest. The gun cluttered to the ground and he started to stagger back, clutching the knife.

 “Pull it out and you’re as good as dead,” Long Zhi growled, keeping his eyes on the other just in case they tried something else. “That’s not one of my men. Who is that? And why the fuck are they trying to shoot you in broad daylight?”

[feilien]

@draconisa said: “∗ 27﹕ sender  is  caught  wearing  receiver's  clothes . 🥰🤭” {♚ x Meme I am too lazy to find right now || Accepting x}

 When exactly Matt had passed out, he wasn’t too sure. The last thing he remembered was quizzing Daenerys for her upcoming test, and then… nothing. He’d been tired, sure, but he hadn’t thought he was ‘pass out on your friend’s couch in the middle of doing something’ tired.

 But… Sure enough, here he was. Laying on her couch, covered by a blanket and his glasses resting safely on the table nearby. It took him several seconds after waking up to figure out just where exactly he was, and his first instinct was to jump up and go on the defensive. Once his surroundings started to come a little more into focus, however, he started to slowly relax again. So he sat up, heart still racing regardless, and picked up his glasses from the table to put them on.

 Once he was able to see, Matt got up and looked around for Dany, only to spot her in the kitchen—with his hoodie on. For a second, he was confused. Had something happened that he had simply forgotten? Unlikely. No way he would’ve forgotten, no matter what. But fucking hell was it a nice sight, and there was a multitude of thoughts—and emotions—that flooded his mind in that moment.

 Thoughts and emotions he quickly buried as deep as he possible could.

 Walking up to the kitchen, Matt cleared his throat and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leaned again the counter. “Good morning,” he muttered, voice still heavy with sleep and he once again cleared his throat. “You could’ve woken me up and kicked my ass out, you know.”

[feilien]

 “Savior?” The suggestion caught him so off-guard, that he couldn’t help but let out a quiet scoff. It sounded absolutely absurd, if Matt was honest. “I wish I could claim to be one, but if it wasn’t for my—” he paused,  for my clan and family, “previous company, it wouldn’t have been necessary to begin with. I just… hope they know I had nothing to do with it. That I would’ve done something earlier if I had been aware. I— I just want to be a decent human being, nothing more.”

 Question was… Was he beyond redemption? Or was there a chance he could make up for whatever horrific crimes he had directly and indirectly been responsible for?

 Welcome aboard, Matt. That meant they weren’t just going to toss him off the ship once they made landfall, right? That meant they’d at least give him a chance to prove himself, to prove that he was worth something. That he could be more than what he had been. A criminal. A weapon. A monster. “I’m a quick study, I promise,” he said quickly, as though it was still necessary to convince Inej that he was worth the trouble of keeping him around. “And what I don’t pick up immediately, I’ll practice until I do. I’m even used to forfeiting sleep, if that’s something you want me to do.”

 The fact that Matt was hardly in any shape to even be thinking about doing manual labor was one he opted to ignore. All his life he’d been taught that being useless was the worst thing you could be, and there was no reason to keep you around if you couldn’t contribute. While Inej and her crew seemed nowhere near as ruthless as his own clan, didn’t mean he wanted to give them a reason to change their mind. After all, he’d just left his entire life behind and that in and of itself was incredibly terrifying; not having to be alone at least made it bearable.

 Nodding his head, Matt followed behind her and signaled for Bao to stay by his side. Now that she’d mentioned it, he noticed just how parched he actually felt. “I’m… Not entirely sure how much use those papers are, if I’m honest. I just grabbed what looked like it could have something to do with… you know… The Grisha, and burned the rest. I didn’t have the time to read through them and make sure. So don’t get your hopes up too much. Although I hope they’ll be of some use, at least.”

A preference leaning strongly towards open air compared to a rather compact living space seemed understandable and Inej spent no further thought to it — not here, now, but perhaps later at night when sweet slumber wouldn't take her into its much yearned embrace, she'd find herself wondering if there'd been a 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 meaning hiding beneath the layers that made this person who he was. Whilst the most cramped of spaces weren't exactly on top of her list of pleasant spots to be in either, they caused her no excessive anxiety; after all, she had found herself in those kind of places for more times than two hands' fingers could count. Anything to survive, anything to succeed, no matter the costs.

Instead of a verbal sign of understanding, the captain nodded her head once. What made the innate curiosity tingle underneath her ribs wasn't the quickly passed sense of mystery, but the seconds running wild between her introduction and his. Despite of reminding herself to not over analyze every single detail visible for the eye, she couldn't help but let a potential concept linger in. The shackles that'd held him ashore had been left behind 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ago, and the call of a new life waited ahead, its hand extended for him to take whenever he'd be ready to close the distance... and finally, perhaps, get to know who he truly was.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. ❝ No fancy titles, hm. Awfully modest for a savior to say. ❞ Without his aid, there was a chance those captured Grisha would no longer be among the living.

As he offered her a name to call him by, she let it echo for a moment or two. Formal signs of gratitude were admittedly a rarity among those who'd been a part of the crew for long enough to have learned other members' traits and quirks, but Inej didn't consider Matt's deep bow as a strange thing. Cultural ties between one's mind and body were to be 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝. ❝ I have seen how you handle your blades. Anyone with the kind of discipline that learning the art of combat requires will easily get the hang of sailing. ❞ Trust me, I know. ❝ Welcome aboard, Matt. ❞

❝ The Grisha you helped freeing are resting below the deck too. I'm sure they'd like to meet you sooner or later ❞, she informed. ❝ We'll bring them back to their homes and if you'll change your mind, you're free to leave with them, of course. But before anything else, I think we should go through the papers you had stuffed in that bag. It appears the corruption has spread much larger than we expected. ❞ Not the most pleasant news to pile upon his shoulders. ❝ And I imagine you must be thirsty at least. Follow me. ❞ Her steps began 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 them towards the captain's cabin which she used as an office space of sort — she didn't sleep there.

[feilien]

 Being asked not to leave came as a surprise. And with those words, it became obvious just how much of a toll this ordeal had taken on the other. If only he had started looking for Gangjae sooner— Matt sighed, knowing damn well it wouldn’t have changed a thing. And while he knew that those bandages absolutely needed changing, and that Gangjae absolutely needed to eat something before he lost even the last bit of remaining strength, he simply nodded and slowly sat back down — at least for the time being.

 The suggestion that they needed to get out of there was met with a quiet sound of hesitation. It wasn’t that Matt was particularly keen on staying here —the place was disgusting, a dump, and he’d like nothing more than to leave it behind— but where could they go? They could hardly go to Gangjae’s old place, and Matt himself didn’t even have a penny to his name, let alone a place to stay. Still, he got up and grabbed the gun, before making his way over to the other. He waited until he was done washing his hair and getting dressed, then handed the gun over to Gangjae. “I prefer knives, and I got plenty of those. Besides, you need protection more than I do. You can’t show your face out there, so it should be me saying that.”

 Studying his friend’s face, Matt reached up and pulled the poorly wrapped bandage away from his face. “We really need to get this changed. And maybe get you some antibiotic ointment. Or this’ll look like shit for the rest of your life.” Letting go of the bandage, he instead crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Whatever you have in mind, I’m by your side. So lead the way. The quicker we get to where we’re headed, the better.”

 ❛ don't go anywhere . ❜  that's almost too quick , too desperate if he's brave enough to address it . though , he's been brave for too long now , it feels like matt is a colorful window to peace and safety . some time for him to ponder on his next move without having to worry about the doctor or the strangers that came and left in the room . it's a shame he doesn't remember their faces . one hand rubs his brows slowly as he winces at the words ; ❛ i fucking know that . it's not a fucking five star hotel if you haven't noticed . ❜  actually , do gangjae had to be dead by now . and choi mujin's ‘ arm , leg or face ‘ procedure was nothing but a mask he wore over his true intentions with the betrayers . donghoon was matter of broken pride for him but gangjae was the breathing example of his failed control over the boys — matt too now .

 eventually , he pushes the thin blanket away from his legs and sat up . long legs curled on the edge of the bed , back facing his friends as he grabbed the dirty towel from on top of the nightstand and stood up . a little wobbly , a little uneven with his steps as he gripped the end of his shirt to pull it over his head . he couldn't take a shower but he could wash his hair — it didn't feel nice sleeping on that yellowed pillow . ❛ we have to get out of here . ❜ he mumbles as he heads toward the bathroom with a limp . bending lower , hissing painfully as the stitches pulled on his flesh , but turned on the hot water to wash his hair in the sink with the soap . though he was still talking while he did it ; ❛ grab that gun from under the bed . and keep the door closed . ❜  matt himself wasn't exactly safe , and gangjae already had a place in mind to hide until they could get to his old apartment and grab his stock of the new product he was working on . when he's done , he ruffles his wet locks with the towel until they're damp , before moving back inside the room . ❛ . . . i won't let anyone find you . don't worry . ❜  the man mumbles at last , flashing him a brief grin as he reaches for his shirt .

[feilien]

 Long Zhi's mind was a mess, to say the least. It wasn't just the very vivid memory of being locked in the closet that was messing with him, but the fact he had lost it like this in front of someone. That had never happened before. He'd always managed to keep this sort of thing at bay, had either managed to breathe through it, or get away before anyone knew what was happening. It was humiliating, and, quite frankly, he was terrified of Xiao Dan finding out. 

 "Leave me alone," he hissed, shrugging his shoulder in an attempt to rid himself of Yuki's hand. He didn't need this. He didn't want this. 

   (But that was a lie, wasn't it? The gesture unraveled something inside of him, something he'd attempted to rid himself for years, something he'd been deprived of for years. Something he'd been punished for so many times when he had sought it out, even from his own mother.)

 Slowly, the panic started to settle down. He wasn't entirely sure how, or why; he couldn't focus on his breathing, couldn't focus on calming himself down, and yet, he somehow did. As confusing as it was, though, he wasn't about to complain about it. Instead, he took a few deep breaths and tried to focus. Panic or no, he needed to get out of here. Out of the room, out of the building, away from the walls and confined space. 

 "Of course, I can stand." As if to emphasize his words, Long Zhi got up and, although his legs did feel a little wobbly, he made his way over to the door. "Like I said, you won. Congratulations. You beat me. It doesn't happen often, and it won't happen again."

 With that, he left the room and made his way to the rooftops.

When he was pushed away, Yuki gave Long Zhi space. He could feel panic rolling off him in waves, and guilt weighed heavy in Yuki's chest knowing he'd caused it for his own selfish reasons. Yuki set the knife on the ground and put a hand on Long Zhi's shoulder, just as he spoke. You won. Now get out of here. Yuki ignored him.

"Look at me, okay?” he urged. Meanwhile, Yuki connected to Long Zhi's mind again. Only this time, it was to calm him, slow his heart rate. He had to admit, he hadn't expected this strong of a reaction, especially from someone like Long Zhi, who seemed to weather everything with strength and composure. But at the end of the day, they were all vulnerable to their demons. Whether it be a suffocating, dark closet, or blinding headlights, crunched metal and glass shards.

As he felt the panic ebb away, Yuki removed his hand, but he remained at Long Zhi's side. He didn't ask what happened, what was wrong. Yuki was a miserable liar, and the thought of acting innocent made him sick. Just as carefully as before, Yuki retracted his power when he was sure his boss was free from the clutches of his past. But it begged the question...who had locked a young Long Zhi in that closet? The possible answer surfaced and, with a sinking heart, Yuki couldn't say he was surprised.

"Take a breath, Liu.” His voice wasn't pitying, wasn't condescending or mocking. It was the tone of someone whose past clawed at him as well, someone who knew exactly what that panic felt like, no ability needed. Still, Yuki feared it would be read the wrong way, and he continued in a normal voice. "Can you stand?"

[feilien]

 Matt knew that he was taking a risk by letting someone in his life—even if only to walk his dog. For the past couple of years he’d kept a distance from everyone, even fellow students who’d tried fairly hard to get him to hang out with them from time to time. He always had an excuse, something to do, somewhere to be. But perhaps the loneliness was starting to get to him. Perhaps he was having a moment of weakness and was going to regret his decision tomorrow. For now, however, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind.

 “I suppose that’s the nature of big cities, isn’t it? Perfect if you want to remain anonymous, but difficult to build real connections,” Matt sighed, as though that wasn’t the exact reason why he’d chosen the biggest city he could think of. “But— I suppose it beats growing up in a place where you know everyone and you still don’t feel at home.” Ah, too much. Clearing his throat, he scratched the back of his head and put on a smile. “Anyway… If anyone can make you feel at home, I’m fairly certain it’s a big, white, fluffy dog that’s absolutely thrilled every time he gets to see you. So consider that problem solved.”

She takes the phone, and their fingers brush, and for a moment Daenerys finds herself simply staring down at it. It's been a long time since she's made any connection, outside of work, or Rhaego's childcare; it's been years since she's made a friend, someone who she can see having meaning in her life, down the road. The moment breaks, and she shakes it off, fishing her own out of her purse and adding in his number. Maybe it isn't the same for him, but to her, it feels significant.

❛ Thank you, ❜ she says, gesturing to the phone in her hand. ❛ That would be great. ❜ Eyes drift up, automatically settling on Rhaego again. He's saying something she can't hear to Bao, giving his head a pat. Dany smiles. ❛ It'll be nice to know someone else in the building. It's... weird, that even after a couple years, it still doesn't feel like home. ❜

[feilien]

 Long Zhi was by no means unfamiliar with drunk people. Quite the opposite. Clan members were almost notorious for getting drunk and loud and obnoxious. And, of course, no one ever dared to put them in their place when they were, lest they earn the wrath of the Black Dragons. So long as they showed up for work and did what they were supposed to do, Xiao Dan didn't care either. Which meant it usually left Long Zhi to deal with them and put them in their place to make sure they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. 

 Needless to say, he wasn't exactly super fond of drunk people. So whenever he ran into Yuki, red cheeked and clearly unstable on his own two feet, he almost regretted having stopped. But.... There was also something that made him glad he had stopped. Maybe it was that brief flash of.. something that crossed Yuki's face; something that immediately raised some concern in the back of Long Zhi's mind. It only lasted for a few seconds, but that had been more than enough.

 But then Yuki laughed, and he decided to let it go. In the end, it was none of his business anyway. 

 At the question, Long Zhi just shrugged his shoulders and held up the end of the leash he was holding on to. "No job tonight. Bao just needed to go out, so I figured we might as well take a walk since I have a couple of hours." He nodded towards the other end of the leash, and the white samoyed that happily trotted up to his side the moment his name was being mentioned. "Doesn't happen all that often, so I need to snatch the opportunity up when it comes around."

 Pausing for a moment, he looked Yuki up and down, then tilted his head to the side. "I'll walk you home, if you want. Last thing I need is you bailing on me because you stumbled home drunk and broke a leg or something dumb like that."

"Wait, have you been drinking?" bc why not 😌

Send "Wait, have you been drinking?" for sender to find receiver drunk | accepting

@feilien

He'd been happy to see Long Zhi, strangely the least hostile person of his miserable clan. As always, Yuki was drawn to his aura, trusted it, even if he couldn't quite feel it right now. But at his question, the bright smile on Yuki's face dimmed a bit. The unwelcome reminder of why he'd been drinking in the first place surfaced to his mind. Yuki gave a gentle shake of his head, and even that small action made this floating sensation more intense. The reason threatened to suffocate him. He could smell cheap cologne, see a small room, hear the creak and groan of a cheap mattress...Yuki rubbed his eye and hitched that smile back into place, hoping it hadn't changed.

"Yeah," he admitted, and felt his cheeks warm a bit. Just like that, thoughts that would've left him paralyzed swam to the back of his mind, and Yuki's good mood returned in full swing.

"I mean, not much. Just a couple drinks." Now there was laughter in his voice, warm and carefree. He knew Long Zhi was his boss, he knew it wasn't professional. He knew what the old man, always on the lookout for Yuki's mistakes, would do if he found out. But Yuki couldn't seem to care about any of it for long.

Suddenly he realized they were much nearer to Yuki's apartment than they were the Black Dragons' territory. In fact, the bar he'd come from wasn't a far walk at all. Curiously, Yuki tilted his head.

"You must be on a job or something, right?" Yuki's grin ticked a bit higher, clearly teasing. "Or am I really seeing the great, esteemed Long Zhi outside of work?"

[feilien]

 If Long Zhi was honest, he didn't really expect Yuki to be successful. He was by no means invincible, but there was no denying that he had the upper hand—and often did. It's what he had been raised and trained for. What he really wanted to see was where Yuki was at, and the effort he was willing to put in. He could work with someone who wasn't quite where Long Zhi wanted them to be, as long as they were willing to put in the effort.

 But he wasn't going to just tell Yuki that, of course. Instead, he took a couple of steps back, waiting, anticipating and observing the other. For a moment, nothing happened at all. Yuki didn't move, at all. His eyes even glazed over, as though he was a million miles away with his thoughts. And just as Long Zhi stood up straight to say something, things went black.

 Suddenly, he was six years old again. Trapped in the closet as punishment for being lazy. Terrified like he'd never been before, and hadn't been again ever since.

 Whatever had just happened didn't last long, but by the time he snapped out of it, he was on the ground with a knife to his throat.

 Confused, and still very much terrified, Long Zhi pushed the weight off of him, struggling to breathe. But even once the physical weight was gone, breathing didn't get any easier. His heart was racing, and so was his mind. And although he could see the wide, open room, it still felt as though the walls were closing in on him. It still felt as though he was enveloped by darkness. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had to pull himself together, he knew that. He couldn't let anyone see him like that, especially not someone like Yuki who probably wouldn't hesitate to use that knowledge against him.

 "You won. Now get out of here." 

Long Zhi seamlessly dodged Yuki's attack, and he realized what was going to happen a second too late. With one hit, the air was robbed of his lungs, and then came his boss's voice. Do it right, Hashikawa, or don't do it at all.

Though he doubled over slightly, coughing, Yuki managed to keep his footing as he was pushed back. He should've expected this, but it complicated things. He wouldn't be able to land a hit on Long Zhi. He'd be kicked out of the Dragons, and this would all be for nothing, unless...

He drew in a breath and took the knife, returning to his place. All the while, a tendril of his power reached out, connecting to Long Zhi's aura, waiting. It brushed up against those mental walls, its touch like wisps of smoke, undetectable, harmless. Yuki meant to tap on the wall -- but he felt a crack and was plunged into a black, endless void.

It was completely, maddeningly dark, save for the feeble light coming through the crack beneath the door. He clung to it, knowing it would soon disappear. The walls were closing in with each passing hour. How many had he spent here? How many hours, how many days? Nothing but sharp pains twisted his gut now, hunger a thing of the past. The tears had dried long ago and the sandpaper kept him from swallowing.

Focus. Yuki regained control, the black ebbing away, and Long Zhi came back into view. He wasted no time. Through their connection, Yuki reflected the memory back, every vivid, horrific detail. When Long Zhi's eyes glazed over, he attacked.

Less than a second later, Yuki had Long Zhi's pinned to the ground, a knee on his chest and a knife at his throat. His breath was even, controlled, and he retracted that tendril with care. Long Zhi's eyes came back into focus, but Yuki didn't dare relax. He'd revealed himself and invaded the mind of the prince of the Black Dragons.

Fuck.

[feilien]

 If Long Zhi was honest, he hadn't really expected Yuki to open up to him. Their relationship, thus far, had been strictly professional and a rather strained one at that. Perhaps it was the remnants of alcohol, or maybe their relationship was beginning to shift in a way he hadn't anticipated, nor wanted.

 ( Even if he craved being close to someone, anyone; was desperate for it, even... He had learned years ago that it was a dangerous game with dire consequences if it didn't work out. He hadn't allowed himself an opportunity to get attached to someone ever since, keeping things strictly professional at all times. An easy thing to do, fortunately, when you were the heir and by definition meant to be above others. )

 Finally done, Long Zhi prepared two bowls, then made his way over to where Yuki and Bao were sitting. Offering Yuki one of the bowls, he sat down next to Bao once he had taken it from him. "Eggdrop soup. Nothing fancy, but I made do with what I had and knew. It'll warm you up, at least."

 Then he went silent for a moment. Yuki didn't need to elaborate for Long Zhi to get the picture. He might not've spelled it out, but the implications were fairly clear. For now, however, he focused on something else.

 "I've heard that name before, Isen Reiou. I think we might've dealt with him before, though I'm not sure of the details." Of course, he rarely ever knew the details when it came to actual business dealings.He wasn't ready for that yet, Xiao Dan always said. He never argued. "I'm sorry, Yuki. About your parents. About the things that have happened to you."

 For a moment, he fell silent again, staring at the bowl in his hands. "Is that why you joined us?"

Yuki felt eyes on him, but by the time he looked up, Long Zhi was focused on the pot again. And for a moment, he was torn. Did he want to talk about it? Would getting it out of his head soothe these gnashing teeth buried in his throat? Would it ease the knot in his stomach, the revulsion it caused? He forced himself to focus on Long Zhi. There was nothing malicious, nothing secretive about his offer. It was genuine. And if Yuki kept this to himself, he was sure he would explode.

Now that his senses had returned, Yuki held a gentle hand out to Bao and waited for the silent approval before he scratched behind his ear. The soft fur was comforting, and it gave Yuki the courage to speak.

"When I was fifteen...my foster father almost beat me to death." Hell of a way to start. "I escaped and I met a guy -- an older guy, Raito."

The name tasted like acid on his tongue. Some bile rose to his throat and shame burned in his cheeks. His hand fell away from Bao and joined the other in his lap. Yuki stared at them. "He gave me a place to stay, taught me how to fight. And the whole time, he was working for Isen Reiou -- the man who killed my family. Watching me. I had no idea until last night."

Yuki sighed, his mouth dry, his stomach sour. "That...wasn't the worst thing he did, either."

[feilien]

 Monitoring every little movement, it was easy to predict Yuki’s moves. However, it was also easy to tell that he was holding back. There could be multiple reasons for that, of course. Doubt of his own skills, fear of hurting the second in command and risking some kind of wrath, or, perhaps, simply wanting to lull Long Zhi into a false sense of security. Whatever the reason, he wasn’t having any of it. He had learned from an early age to give it his all even during sparring, or risk getting his ass beat. And he expected the same from his opponents.

 So, after evading the blade, he followed it up with a no doubt painful jab to the solar plexus, and used the opportunity to grab the blade from Yuki. Holding it up to his throat, Long Zhi took a step closer to close whatever tiny distance remained between them. “Do it right, Hashikawa, or don’t do it at all. I need to know if you’re capable enough for me to take you along. So stop with the child’s play.”

 Instead of taking a step back himself, Long Zhi reached up with his other hand and pushed Yuki. Then he held out the blade, once again offering it for him to take. “Slash to hurt, not to intimidate. I promise you, I will move out of the way. And if I don’t, I deserve it and you’ve won. So let’s try this again.”

He tried not to think of the implications behind killing one of his own, even if they were Yakuza. Even if they were criminals who caused torment and misery. Yuki was no better, and another word came to his mind as he imagined it spit in his face.

Hikokumin. This time he almost flinched. Traitor.

Almost grateful for Long Zhi's unintentional distraction, Yuki took the knife and tuned into what he was saying, watching him push furniture out of the way. A frown tugged at Yuki's mouth as he weighed the knife in his hand. It seemed to be well balanced, a sharp and sturdy blade, but it was light as well. His eyes were drawn up to Long Zhi's face. Draw blood. Go.

As soon as the word was spoken, Yuki sprung into action. He instantly closed the distance between them, but he was holding back as he slashed at Long Zhi's face, less to draw blood and more to prove he was serious. Yuki's empathy was his greatest weapon, and he was reluctant to show it here. But given his orders...he might not have a choice.