Chapter Text
The scrap of paper that ruined his life was sitting innocuously on the table. Just straight up in plain view.
Iron Fan, at one point his closest confidant, his friend, his sister, meant well.
She always did, in her own way.
But the list, gods, that damned list.
It contained the names of quite a few eligible bachelors from around the realm, celestial and demonic types alike, that she thought were…better, for lack of a nicer word, than his thousands of years old crush. (Fling, obsession, call it what you will.)
She'd drafted it up one night while they were drinking, and he'd laughed and cried into her shoulder then; her long black hair curling around him comfortingly as he tried not to poke holes in her red jumpsuit.
"Dìdì, he's not worth your time. I've seen you cry more over that moron than you've smiled about him. Let me get you a date, I know a dozen people who would be thrilled for your attention." She’d patted his shoulders, and he'd sniffled something she'd taken as a 'yes'.
He'd barely looked over the list in the morning as he stumbled out of bed, too busy groaning and swearing at his hangover to pay it any attention, and so it just sat there on his kitchen table, until Wukong showed up looking for MK.
He'd been minding his own business, staring morosely into his cup of tea, when his front door was kicked in.
Macaque sat and stared in shock at the wall his door was now embedded in as Wukong burst into his living room, the god's head frantically swivelling.
"MK?!" Wukong yells, lifting up Macaque’s couch. Macaque feels his eye twitch as Wukong’s claws sink into the fabric. He’s pretty sure his ears are about to start bleeding from the amount of noise the god is making, but he grits his teeth and tries to be mildly diplomatic.
He’s too tired and hungover for a fight right now.
"What are you doing?" He hisses out icily, almost shattering his mug in between his hands.
"Looking for my student! The note said he was in danger, and you're the demon who poses the most danger to him! So obviously he'd be here!" Wukong tosses over his shoulder as he kicks up an ornate rug.
"Well, I didn't write any notes. Let me see it." Macaque ignores the pointed glare sent his way and holds out his hand, making a ‘gimme’ motion.
"You're just going to destroy it!" Wukong clutches a glowing piece of paper to his chest possessively, like Macaque is about to rip it to shreds before his eyes, dropping an end table in the process with a dull thunk that makes the demon’s ears ring.
"I am not!” He set his mug down quickly, and presses his newly freed hand against an ear as he almost whines out, “I just want you to stop fucking with my furniture! Wukong, for fuck’s sake, put that dresser down, it's an antique!!"
"Fine!" Wukong snaps, but his voice isn’t loud anymore, and Macaque is pathetically grateful for small mercies as the god shoves the ransom note into his waiting hand.
Macaque scans the note quickly, and with a barely contained snarl, he throws the paper onto his table.
"This isn't even my handwriting!" He bites out, and Wukong has the gall to look guilty.
"Did you check anyone else, or did you just break my door first?" Macaque continues, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes. ‘Of all the days,’ he thinks to himself glumly.
Wukong remains silent, and Macaque opens his eyes to see the god’s tail wrapped sheepishly around his leg. He sighs, and grabs his mug, taking a long draught before taking pity on the golden-haired monkey.
"I think it's gotta be the Gold and Silver Demons. Yin and Jin are the only two dumb enough to flaunt a captured hero like that." Macaque mutters, and Wukong’s eyes reignite as he strides forward.
The god swipes the paper on the table, quickly stuffing it into his pocket, his eyes never leaving Macaque’s.
"If he's not there, I'm coming straight back here to strangle you." Wukong promises quietly.
"Great. Can't wait." Macaque gives a lazy wave, dismissing the god, and Wukong huffs before transforming into a falcon and taking flight.
He settles back down into his chair, allowing his spine to relax, and sighs into his mug. A glimmer to his left catches his attention, and he allows his gaze to drift down to the table.
The paper glows ominously and he blinks, confused.
The list… didn't glow.
MK's ransom note on the other hand…
Oh. Oh, fuck.