Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[Dokja, there is something that your father and I would like to discuss with you,] announced Persephone one weekend morning after she and her revived husband greeted Kim Dokja and Lee Sookyung in their white mansion.

　　“Yes?” said Dokja, detecting the twin grave expressions that his adoptive parents wore on their faces. “Is there something wrong?”

　　The gods of the Underworld shared a glance at one another, then sat down in the living room with Dokja and Sookyung on the couch opposite of them, Sookyung situated on Dokja’s right.

　　[It would be better if we explained the situation more properly,] suggested Hades, his countenance as stoic as usual.

　　Persephone nodded, crossing her legs elegantly before continuing: [As I’m sure you know, souls of the deceased go to the Underworld to spend their afterlives.]

　　“We know,” replied Sookyung, her thin eyebrows furrowed. What point was the other woman trying to get at by introducing a morbid subject?

　　Persephone took a deep breath and grimaced. [And you both might be aware of this, but Dokja’s paternal relatives had perished during or before the scenarios.]

　　“I figured,” Dokja stated dispassionately, “given that I had never heard a word of them since I was emancipated. I’m sorry that you have to deal with them,” he added a bit cheekily to the couple.

　　Persephone felt her lips crack into a small smile for a second. [Quite, I’m sure,] she agreed. [Anyway, there is something of which we must inform you two. Will you be able to handle it? It isn’t what you would necessarily deem as good news.]

　　Her adoptive son tilted his head slightly, a polite enough gesture for her to spit it out. So, she did.

　　[Well, to put it bluntly, your aunt seeks an audience with you—Dokja, specifically.]

　　…What?

　　His aunt? That woman of all people? The very same person who denied the atrocities committed by Dokja’s father and mistreated the boy simply due to being Sookyung’s son? The one who thought of him as a waste of space when she had done nothing to comprehend the situation and clung onto her useless pride? That aunt?

　　It was a bombshell difficult to swallow. Sookyung frowned deeply, clearly acquainted with the nastiness that ran among her in-laws, an unfortunate trait that had been passed down to her ex-husband. Whereas for Dokja…

　　Suffice to say, he did not even need time to predict the words ringing in his mind at present.

　　Gosh darn it. These days, the Fourth Wall would not help Dokja suppress his emotions unless he was about to enter an episode. Han Sooyoung was right when she said that Dokja did not have just a little bit of trauma. It would be no surprise if he suddenly passed out.

　　His clenched hands shook, his neck began to sweat, and his already pale skin had turned a sickly shade of paste. He could faintly register his birth mother’s voice echoing his name, her hand moving to grab his.

　　“…Dokja-yah? Come back to me, sweetheart.”

　　He inhaled sharply, turning to face Sookyung, who looked like she was one step away from calling for Sooyoung or Yoo Joonghyuk. Considering how the relationship between the latter and Sookyung had started off rockily, his current appearance must have frightened Sookyung terribly.

　　He smiled grimly, squeezing Sookyung’s fingers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll be okay.”

　　It was better for him to declare that he would be okay rather than falsely claim to have already gotten his bearings. His nebula members were frankly tired of witnessing him not giving a fig about his own feelings or well-being.

　　The reader focused his gaze on the royal couple. “My aunt didn’t care for me at all before she died,” he told them. “Why does she suddenly want to see me now?”

　　It was Hades who answered him: [She didn’t say. I assume that she wants to meet you because of your fame. It is something that she would want to leech off of.]

　　“Yeah, but she’s dead,” Dokja emphasized. “You are saying that she is foolishly yearning for attention that she can’t get?”

　　Hades’s lips quirked upward. [Your reputation as the Demon King of Salvation precedes you.]

　　[We don’t exactly know what her intentions are,] Persephone interrupted gently. [Just know that we will support any decision you make regarding this matter.]

　　Dokja felt his cheeks burn, thriving under his guardians’ care and affection, which his other relatives never provided. It was a welcoming emotion compared to the verbal abuse and neglect that he had received as a child.

　　Sookyung asked quietly, “What will you do, Dokja-yah?”

　　Her son closed his eyes for a moment, already concocting a plan. Then, he made his proclamation.

　　“I would like to discuss this topic with my nebula first.”

That afternoon, Dokja declared a “family meeting” and summoned the entire company to the living room, lounging on the very same couch from hours ago. Sooyoung had taken Sookyung’s place while Joonghyuk sat on Dokja’s left, his scarred hand on the smaller man’s thigh. Biyoo in her humanoid form made herself comfortable on Dokja’s lap, and Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung each brought a cushion to the floor to cling onto their guardian’s legs.

　　“So, what happened that caused you to bring us all together like this?” Sooyoung drawled, her hand tucked into Dokja’s palm. “Judging from the look on your face, it must be pretty important.”

　　“It is for me,” said Dokja, his grin rueful. “Something…strange…came up, and I wish for everyone’s opinion on how to proceed with it.”

　　“Am I hearing this right?” loudly gasped Jung Heewon, a hand dramatically covering her open mouth. “Did Dokja-ssi actually want a second opinion on something instead of jumping into a crazy convoluted plan? I can’t believe my ears.”

　　To Dokja’s disgust, she literally brought a pinky to one of her ears to most likely pick it.

　　“There must have been something in the water; I think we’re all hallucinating,” Lee Jihye snickered, earning a bark-like laugh from the other swordswoman.

　　“Ha, ha,” Dokja droned dryly, rolling his eyes. “Very funny. Can I talk now? I wasn’t joking when I said that I heard concerning news earlier today.”

　　“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Heewon declaimed, adding a bow for flourish. Jihye and Jang Hayoung chortled, fully aware of how much Dokja detested that nickname.

　　“I hate you so much,” said Dokja. I don’t, he thought tacitly.

　　“Love you, too.”

　　Dokja coughed before he could turn into a blubbering mush by Heewon’s declaration. Accepting other people’s love was still a concept to which he was unaccustomed.

　　Sitting up, he said, “Anyhow, before we approach the subject at hand, I need to ask Yoo Joonghyuk and Mia-yah a question.”

　　Catching their names being spoken aloud, the Yoo siblings perked up and heeded at the demon king.

　　“Hypothetically, if your parents were to ever request a chance to meet with you, how would you react?”

　　The siblings stared at him. It was like they were boring holes into his head.

　　“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk growled, his grip on the dreamer’s thigh tightening enough that it did not yet sting. “What is the meaning of this?”

　　“Please, Joonghyuk-ah,” Dokja begged, a desperately vulnerable shine in his starry eyes. “Just give me an honest answer.”

　　Joonghyuk continued to goggle at him. Whether it was because the former regressor was too stunned by the inquiry to speak or he was mesmerized by the galaxies floating under those long eyelashes, no one could rightfully tell.

　　Seeing that her brother was in no condition to reply, Yoo Mia did it for him.

　　“Are you kidding me? I would be furious. Our parents abandoned us both and refused to take responsibility for us, their own blood children. I wouldn’t even bother gracing them with our presence. They don’t deserve it after all that we’ve been through without them, and besides, we didn’t need them in the end. We’re perfectly happy as we are now.” She narrowed her eyes, a quaking glint in those ebony orbs. “Why bring this up, ahjussi? Don’t tell me they really want to…?”

　　Joonghyuk stiffened.

　　“Don’t worry; your parents aren’t involved in this.” Dokja lifted a placating hand to soothe the teenager, noticing Joonghyuk relax next to him. “…Though remind me to give them a verbal thrashing if I ever come across them.”

　　“Will do,” Mia promised, knowing full well that Dokja was a mother hen whose feathers would be ruffled if any child under his care so much as felt a teeny bit endangered.

　　“But Dokja-ssi,” Yoo Sangah said carefully, “if we’re not talking about Mia-yah and Joonghyuk-ssi, then what is going on?”

　　“Sangah-ssi is right,” Lee Hyunsung concurred. “The way you spoke to Joonghyuk-ssi was unusually fretful. Is something wrong?”

　　Dokja took a deep breath. It was time to spill the beans. But perhaps it would be a good idea to transition prudently.

　　“I’m sure all of you are aware by now what my childhood was like. It was beyond unpleasant, and living with my paternal relatives who didn’t want me only worsened the situation.”

　　Sooyoung gurned, strengthening her clutch on Dokja’s hand as memories of a little boy covered in bandages and an IV stuck in his arm while lying on a hospital bed resonated in her brain. Dokja enclasped her hand back, as though to reassure her that he was safe and alive.

　　Biyoo—beautiful, smart Biyoo—must have sensed where this was going, since she hissed in sympathy. Dokja loved her to pieces.

　　Sighing, he resumed: “It hurt, so I was content when they were finally out of my life. And I met you guys, so I don’t think about them so often anymore.”

　　He lowered his head.

　　“But today, Persephone and Hades told me that my aunt, after years of no contact, suddenly wished to speak with me.” He laughed hysterically. “How am I supposed to deal with that? She wanted me to leave, and now she wants to see me again? Isn’t it a little too ludicrous? What gives her the right to try to disrupt my happiness?”

　　His vision began to blur as his eyes welled up without his consent. He hoped that his bangs were long enough to conceal his distraught state, for the Fourth Wall apparently refused to help him this time. Maybe it was for the best. He should be more open to his team and allow himself to fall apart in front of them. Showing weakness to those whom you trust with your life was not a sin.

　　“I don’t want to see her, but I also feel like I won’t get any closure if I avoid her. She’s not my father, yet she still abused me.”

　　The word “abuse” tasted like copper on his tongue, like the blood that he spilled when bullies hit him, or when he landed on the ground after falling from a window—

　　No. Let’s not go there. Those bullies were dead and gone and held no sentimental value. They could not bother him anymore.

　　“I don’t know what to do,” he murmured weakly, salty droplets dripping onto his shirt. “Please tell me what to do.”

　　For a minute, there was nothing but a harsh noiselessness. It was so quiet that it reminded Dokja of the eternity spent in that blasted subway. It was stifling…and suffocating.

　　Gosh, would anyone please say something? Anything?

　　Surprisingly, it was Han Myungoh who broke the silence first.

　　“Your aunt has no right to try to barge into your life again. She lost that right the moment she decided to neglect the child that she was responsible for. It is a parent’s duty to care for their child. The same goes for a guardian to their ward. She failed you that day, so if you wish to stay away from her, that is on her, not you.”

　　“What he said,” Gong Pildu accorded gruffly. “She did wrong by you, so whatever you want to do, that is not up for her to decide. Do not let her actions dictate you.”

　　“That’s right!” Hayoung piped, grinning encouragingly to dissipate the solemn atmosphere. “You’re the Demon King of Salvation and the Oldest Dream! Don’t let someone like her bring you down! You’re free to do whatever you want now, and we’ll support whatever decision you’ll make!”

　　Dokja could not help but smile from her enthusiasm. Hayoung, with her peppy personality and golden hair, evoked him of sunshine.

　　“But Dokja-ssi, will you be okay?” queried Lee Seolhwa solicitously. “If you do choose to confront your aunt, you will need to be emotionally prepared and pragmatic. Please take this into consideration.”

　　“I will,” Dokja pledged. “Today is when I can have a free mental breakdown. Tomorrow, I will be as right as rain.”

　　And by doing so, he would make Seolhwa’s job a whole lot easier. There was only so much that a doctor could do, and psychological therapy was not under Seolhwa’s jurisdiction.

　　“You should really be more open about your feelings, hyung,” said Gilyoung. “And if your aunt gives you any more trouble, we’ll beat her dead.”

　　“She’s already dead.”

　　“Then we’ll beat her dead again!”

　　“We’re not going to kill anyone; okay, Gilyoungie?”

　　Dokja turned pleading eyes to Yoosung, hoping for some backup to pacify the boy’s bloodlust.

　　Instead, the red-eyed girl said, “For once, I agree with the bug boy. You should express yourself more, ahjussi, and let us clean up the trash.”

　　Had anyone mentioned that teenagers scared the living wits out of him sometimes?

　　Betrayal, thy name is Shin Yoosung. I thought I raised you better than this!

　　Dokja suspired, completely giving up on convincing his children to not commit homicide (for it was becoming increasingly obvious by everyone else’s visages that they were going to jump on the bandwagon), and simply ruffled their hair.

　　Biyoo twisted in her position on Dokja’s lap to look at her savior properly. [Father.]

　　“Yes, Biyoo-yah?”

　　The Dokkaebi King cupped Dokja’s face—which was wet with tears—in her palms and said, [If you truly believe that visiting your aunt will give you closure, then I think that you should do so.]

　　Dokja bit his lip. Clearly, he would prefer not seeing that woman’s mien ever again, but being the prince of the Underworld implied that he might bump into his aunt at some point. He would rather curtail the date of this reunion.

　　“I do believe so, yes.”

　　[Okay,] breathed Biyoo. [In that case, we won’t stop you. But you should not have to deal with her alone. I recommend that you bring someone to accompany you—as emotional support, if anything else. It would keep us at ease.]

　　Dokja nodded fervently. Truth be told, he would appreciate having someone by his side during such a stressful occasion.

　　“Okay, Biyoo-yah.” He pressed a long kiss on her forehead, making sure to stay clear of her horn. “I trust you.”

　　Before anyone else could get a word in, Joonghyuk promulgated, “Han Sooyoung and I will go with you.” His tone suggested that this was not left up for debate.

　　“Aren’t you just a possessive bastard?” Sooyoung griped, her eyebrow twitching as she glared at the wavy-haired man. “Other than that, of course I’ll come with, even though Yoo Joonghyuk just volunteered me for tribute.”

　　Dokja blinked. “…Did you just quote The Hunger Games? Because I swear that sounded familiar.” He proceeded to act like his typical annoying self by egging on: “Are you going back to your plagiarizing habits again? I thought you broke that—”

　　His words were cut off with a yelp when Sooyoung grabbed him by the shirt collar and planted a sloppy kiss on his eyelid, which was still moist from unshed tears. Joonghyuk, not one to be one-upped, copied her by targeting the other eyelid, causing the reader to shriek and flail his arms wildly.

　　[And that’s our cue to leave,] declared Biyoo a little too forcefully, wiggling out of Dokja’s lap and ushering everyone out of the room, because there was no way that anyone wished to see the duo reducing Dokja to a blushing, shuddering mess with their excessive PDA. (And was Jihye filming the chaotic scene on her phone? Goodness forbid she sent the video to Uriel.) [Don’t break Father, you two!] she warned Dokja’s partners prior to transforming into a fluff ball and floating out of view.

　　“Biyoo!” Dokja screamed in mortification, only to gasp when Joonghyuk and Sooyoung smooched the left and right sides of his neck. “What are you two doing?!”

　　“Keeping you to ourselves,” Joonghyuk grumbled, nuzzling Dokja’s throat. “It’s our turn to spend time with you—alone.”

　　This sunfish bastard…! Sooyoung was right; the pro-gamer was way too possessive.

　　“Besides, we got you to stop crying, didn’t we?” Sooyoung tacked on shamelessly, a maddeningly smug grin plastered on her cat-like face as the other constellation’s stomach churned with dread.

　　There was just something perplexing about those two—one moment, they would be adoring and charming to him, and the next, they would be blowing each other’s gaskets or ticking him off as well (not that it would escalate into a legitimate fight, but it seemed that the three maintained a sadistic pleasure in messing with one another).

　　Dokja hated it here.

　　“Guys, let’s be serious,” he commanded, leaning in reverse so that his partners would fail in their attempt to potentially maul his neck. (If they succeeded, Hades would definitely find a reason to kill them off, no matter how much his beloved son pleaded for their lives.) “How soon do you think I should see my aunt? I want to get this over with.”

　　Joonghyuk did not even hesitate. “Tomorrow.”

　　Sooyoung gawked at the transcendent with wide eyes. “Tomorrow?” she repeated. “And what is it with you and single-word statements?”

　　“Tomorrow’s date night,” Dokja remarked helpfully.

　　“It is,” said Joonghyuk. “You visit your aunt tomorrow. Worst comes to worst, she makes us upset, so we spend the rest of the evening doing whatever we want to cancel out the effects.”

　　“What kind of reasoning is that?” grilled Sooyoung, her hands opening and closing as if she were planning on strangling the taller man.

　　(You did this, Sooyoung-ah, Dokja thought drolly. You were the one who designed him.)

　　“I’ll be cooking dinner tomorrow.”

　　“You do that practically every day.”

　　“There will be Murim dumplings with chicken broth.”

　　“I’m in,” Dokja said immediately, for he was not going to pass up the rare opportunity of eating his favorite dish for dinner.

　　Sooyoung had that particular constipated expression screaming that she was surrounded by a bunch of weirdos and threw her hands up in the air. “That’s all it takes for you to agree?!”

　　“…I’ll pay for your next batch of lollipops. Deal?”

　　The author hummed, tapping her chin. She could see where Dokja was going with this. Free good food was free good food, after all.

　　“You drive a hard bargain. It’s a deal.”

　　Dokja shook her hand mockingly. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he said saccharinely with his signature conman smile.

　　Recognizing that grotesque grin on Dokja’s face, Sooyoung felt that she might have been played.

　　Joonghyuk only confirmed it by averring, “You need to cut back from consuming so many sweets. I’ll be watching you closely, Han Sooyoung.”

　　So that was what the other man had been aiming for all along. No wonder he became a demon king—bartering with him was like making a deal with the devil. And Joonghyuk was basically threatening to confiscate the writer’s candy!

　　“Kim Dokja, you rat!” Sooyoung shrilled like a feral feline, then latched her mouth onto Dokja’s white neck and gratingly sucked.

　　“Eek!”

　　The squeak that Dokja emitted was very similar to that of a mouse as he jolted in his seat, held in place by Joonghyuk’s unrelenting grip on his small waist and a velvety maw fluttering on his nape while the larger man dragged Dokja onto the former’s thighs. Tears sprang out of the bibliophile’s eyes for a very different reason this time, and sparkles exploded into his vision as he tried to smack the two off of his person, their hot touches tingling against his cool skin as quivering puffs escaped his lips.

　　Their caresses were both too rough and too gentle, and the sensations were altogether inordinately overwhelming. Dokja had no idea how to handle their devotion—it was like they were simultaneously worshipping him and treating him like a chew toy—which, for the record, was kind of gross.

　　Was it too late to report those rascals to Hades for harassment?

　　Stars above, he really hated it here.