#{ Macaque Spares His Soul }

[dxrknessembr8ced]

Right there right where she wanted she is going go tear the armor apart, she's going to devour his soul becoming more powerful all with his soul within her it will be glorious but she...she stopped and let him go, she spared his life realizing that she isn't hungry at all as she's now just plain bored. She dropped him from the ground as the samurai stared in a state of shock.

" W-Wha? Why? Why did you spare me?! "

Macaque chuckled.

" Well, as it turns out I'm not hungry. Not anymore and I did get a decent fight out of it, not bad samurai. "

Bishamon is absolutely dumbfounded and confused. Yet kept his guard up with now his sword still in his arms.

" What?! "

" Don't expect you understand big bad darkstalker, it's what I do, when I'm hungry I kill you, when I'm not I expected a big fight from you.... "

" You can have this village It's boring anyways, I'm going out to find Hsien-Ko, till we meet again samurai.. "

" WAIT- ! "

Right where the samurai apprehend her the great Macaque jumped into the air leaping from the roof tops of the villager's homes now disappearing into the night with her flock if B.O.W.s. still alive from the onslaught of this village. He couldn't believe what the samurai had been through, this is the first time in ages that the samurai has actually feared something. He now knows that the person behind this is the once innocent and sweet Hsien-Ko, the one people dubbed her as patient zero this is just the beginning as he fear that the night will get worse, all the more worse and he must find the others to band together and strike back the B.O.W.s. and the great plague.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Gods, in that au where Macaque struck true, imagine his GUILT when he learns about the first egg. That, in his rage at Wukong and desire to harm the pilgrims, he destroyed what very might as well be his and Wukong's chance at a family.

Because I very much doubt Wukong will allow him to be around this second egg.

Prev. Me and @soniclozdplove do a lot of talking in the Notes.

Macaque learns of the First Egg when enters Diyu. Kṣitigarbha, the Bodhisattva of the dead and unborn, looks at him with a mixture of disappointment and sorrow. Macaque doesn't understand until he sees the egg-shaped mass of soul energy in the god's arms. Silent tears roll down his face as the little soul briefly forms the silhouette of a baby monkey.

He collapses as the realisation hits him like a mountain - Wukong was with child, and Macaque had caused him to miscarry. Macaque weeps and pleads for the Ten Kings to take his soul and spare the unborn in his place, only to receive the curt assurance from the bodhisattva that the little one will be kept safe for until they can reunite with their parent.

Macaque is in such despair at the tragedy he's caused that he fails to notice the chains of a greater force engulf and drag him into the deepest pits of the Underworld - Kṣitigarbha and the Ten Kings themselves left puzzled by what primordial force has taken the spiritual monkey.

Macaque spends half an eternity in pitch darkness, only able to listen to the sounds of the Underworld's waters and the odd gossip of it's inhabitants

Then he hears something truly amazing; the very soul of the child he stole from his mate is to be guided through Naihe Bridge - it is time for them to be reborn! He struggles against his confinement for the first time in over a thousand years - determined to protect the child and reunite with his mate.

Thats when the White Bone Spirit makes her strike. Even though Macaque knows nothing good will come of accepting her offer, he takes the risk - hoping beyond all hope that Wukong may come to forgive him for what he did to their first child.

Macaque does not receive a welcome party when he reaches Flower Fruit Mountain. Fear flashes in Wukong's eyes when he gazes upon his former mate once more - the red sash draped over his swollen belly resembling Macaque's missing scarf. Macaque drops to the ground, kowtowing to his mate about how he had genuinely not known of the First Egg when he had engaged him in battle and how *their* child is soon to reborn as the Second.

Tieshan starts strangling her former-sworn brother before Wukong can respond to Macaque's frenzied sobbing. The rest of Wukong's new found troop are there to witness this sight - the reincarnated Pilgrims horrified when Nezha reveals to them the details of what happened with Wukong's *First* stone egg. The only reason Macaque doesn't reenter Diyu immediately is the appearance of a certain Bodhisattva of Mercy. Guanyin shows their own brand of contempt, but tells them to let the shadow monkey live, sensing that he had returned for not-entirely selfish reasons.

Macaque decides that he must find a way to prove that he's remorseful and wishes to be there for Wukong and the Second/Rainbow Egg. It's pretty difficult to even get close to Wukong to grovel at his feet, his whole adoptive troop ready to tear Macaque apart for his sin.

Ultimately, the only thing Macaque can think of that could bring Wukong or his troop to even consider his apology is something Macaque himself had fought to free him from.

Macaque kneels before Guanyin and begs her to bind him.

Wukong can only blink away tears as he sees the familiar gold Circlet encircle Macaque's brow. Insurance that his former mate can never harm him or his child ever again, at the cost of his divine freedom. Subjecting himself to the same chains he fought to free his King from if it proved just a little bit that he was repentant.

It's a start.

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 7 : I'm home

Macaque is seized by some feelings, he let it go

The sun was above him. Not the pleasing, blooming light he was used to, the one that embraced him like a long lost lover, the one that made him feel like living was a gift. 

The sun above him was cruel. It burned his eyes without a shred of pity, rays falling upon his battered flesh like a rain of knives. It wasn't the friend he was accustomed to, it was the King of the sky, gazing at his dying body without any mercy. The cruel light veiled the sage’s shoulder, like a glistening cape made for the holiest, the mightiest of beings, the ones siding with goodness. 

And Macaque wasn't good. He was the demon that tried to make the chosen one bleed, the fool the heroes trampled on to reach higher heights. He was nothing but a shadow, a fickle, shapeless thing, easily burned by the light it stupidly fell in love with. The winds were right, it was madness to love someone who will never wait for your steps, who will never bend to your level. They had whispered truth in his ears since the dawn of his birth, but he had ignored the warnings, choosing to follow the shadow of a monkey coated in gold despite knowing he will never be enough for him. 

Tears nipped at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He held them inside of him, drowning his own heart, his own lungs with sorrow. He would never let the sage see his tears, never again. He would die with fire in his eyes and a sneer on his face, mocking the King till his inevitable end. 

Sun Wukong wasn't golden anymore, his fur was soiled by the warrior's blood, gold strands coated in the liquid life of the one that loved him the most. Macaque gazed at the sage's eyes, two murderous red bolts glaring at him with disgust, something he never saw before on a face so sweet. Macaque had never been afraid of the sage, he never understood the tales painting him as a ruthless monster. 

How can a monkey so kind, so accepting, so illuminating be a monster ? 

He understood now, in the face of the red coated beast, staff raised above him, light gliding on it, like the sun itself blessed this death. He understood the terror that seized people when they glanced at the Monkey King. 

“You're my best friend in the world Liu'er !”, lies echoing in his mind, lies he fell for willingly, lies he had hoped were truth. The Six-eared Macaque, tricked by lies, the vilest disgrace, the cruelest downfall, of all for him. 

He had nothing left, he realized as death fell upon him in the form of his King. His home was Sun Wukong's, his people were Sun Wukong's, his goals were Sun Wukong's, his heart was Sun Wukong's. And now, his life was in the hands of this man. 

"I love you." He whispered, the truth he never dared to utter falling through his lips with ease, the foolish thing in his chest beating with the senseless hope that these pathetic words would be enough to grace him mercy. 

Sun Wukong stopped, staff grazing the warrior's face, and Macaque hoped for a second that he would be spared. That, at last his friend would remember their kind days, and let him go with the winds. Macaque had done wrong, he tried to hurt the monk, but he wasn't the worst, he had heard of demons doing more dreadful things to the pilgrims, and of them being spared by the King. To begin with, he never planned to kill Tripitaka, he only wanted Wukong to come back to the place he belonged. Contrary to many others, he wasn't motivated by greed, or lust, but by love, surely this would grant him his King mercy.

Surely, Sun Wukong would remember everything he had ever done for him, and let him escape. 

The sage let his staff fall upon him, the weapon tearing his eye, digging its way through his skull. Macaque screamed, all hopes burned forevermore, as he felt life evade him. 

“I like you more than anyone else, Liu'er”. 

"Liar." Muttered the macaque as death came and dragged his soul to hell’s depths. 

Macaque woke up with a trembling heart, it wasn't the first time he dreamt of his death, but it became more frequent since sleeping beside the sage. He turned towards the golden fluff ball curled up in his left, still paralyzed by his dream, and felt his fear spikes. It wasn't easy to wake up besides the one that killed him after he dreamt of his death, it made the lingering memory of the nightmare more real. Macaque closed his eyes, and concentrated on his surroundings. He focused on the peaceful breath of the sage, of the way his fur felt pressed on his left side, warm and soft, on the way his own heart was beating, on the chants of nature outside the shack. 

Sun Wukong, the pilgrim, wasn't here, the one beside him was an overgrown puppy too needy for his own good. He wasn't Liu'er anymore, weak, pathetic Liu'er lying on the floor as his King ended him, he wasn't the same. 

The sage stirred, ears flapping slightly, but he didn't wake up, only snuggling closer, snout diving in the warrior's fur. Macaque had tried to sleep elsewhere, to stop The King from joining him, but it had been useless. Sun Wukong didn't sleep if he wasn't pressed against the warrior, he always barged in, uncaring of doors, locks and hisses. 

The King began to shake, body overtaken by tremors as he pressed further in the warrior's side. Macaque wasn't the only one haunted by nightmares, he noticed that Wukong had his fair shares of tortuous dreams. The sage never made any sounds when he dreamt of horrors, he shook and cried, but his voice never rang. Macaque had wondered more than once if he had been unaware of some of the sage's nightmares. If, in their past, Sun Wukong had woken up in the middle of the night after being tortured by his own mind without the Macaque being there to wipe his tears. 

It shouldn't bother him, it shouldn't hurt him. He tried to ignore the way Sun Wukong would flinch when Macaque grazed his forehead, the way he hid behind him when smoke arose from fire, the way he looked at scalding food with narrowed eyes, the way he would still when something fell on his back. 

He tried to ignore how Sun Wukong was hurting, but it was becoming more and more difficult after each day at his side. 

“This is only because the shaking is bothering me”, reasoned the Macaque as he petted the sage, combing through his fur and scratching in-between his ears. The sage continued to tremble, but he began to purr, a weak thing barely echoing, and Macaque stayed there, incapable of finding sleep after reliving his death, incapable of closing his eyes with a trembling mess at his side. 

Sun Wukong stopped shaking after a while, his tremors leaving him as the nightmare faded away in a kinder dream. Macaque gently pushed the sage away, and escaped the sofa, relieved to see that the King was still sound asleep, even if he did whimper slightly. The warrior took his phone and turned on a dim light to navigate more easily, he slipped out of the shack and sat on the threshold, looking at the falling waterfall with faraway eyes. 

He had gotten out of the shack once or twice, to find food or simply to call for the wandering King, but he had never gotten too far, he knew Sun Wukong hadn't too. Macaque turned on the phone to shake off his thoughts, he fell upon the group chat the kid had created, and was quite surprised to see the two kids very much awake at this ungodly hour. 

Emo Monkey (he wasn't responsible for this nickname, but he hadn't found the way to change it yet) : why are you both still awake? 

The chaos child ( he learnt quite quickly that this name was really fitting for the dragon girl and her chaotic ways) : The hot topic monkey is awake! My monkey bestie here was showing me all the cute pics of Wukong! Great stuff. 

The girl had been quite reserved at first, he didn't even know why the kid added her in the first place, but she quickly spammed the group chat with memes and other things Macaque didn't really get. She was also collecting pictures for blackmail on Wukong and, well, who was Macaque to not indulge this? 

Everyone's favorite : we're having a sleepover but without being in the same room! :) 

Emo Monkey : You should go to sleep, you're gonna whine about it tomorrow if you don't. 

Everyone's favorite : yes, Mama Mac. 

The chaos child : AYO, AFDGYC, that's funny as hell. 

~ The chaos child changed Emo Monkey username for Mama Mac~

Mama Mac : I'm not appreciating this teasing.

The chaos child : that's because you're no fun. 

Mama Mac : And you're insufferable. Go to sleep, child. 

Everyone's favorite : the mom has talked, Mei. 

The chaos child : Nooooo, but MK. We still have so many pictures of Monkey King chewing on stuff to see. 

Mama Mac : the pictures will still be here tomorrow. 

The chaos child : who would have thought the emo monkey was secretly caring. 

Everyone's favorite : I saw it coming the day he didn't kill Monkey King for hugging him! 

The chaos child : the good old days. Eyo, you think I could see the King? Kinda wanna snap pictures of him myself, Macaque's suck at taking pictures. 

Mama Mac : hey! I'm still here. My pictures are fine. You just don't understand my art. 

Everyone's favorite : idk, Monkey King has been more calm these days… 

Mama Mac : he's still stressed as hell, the guy tried to break in when I was taking my bath, again. 

The chaos child : kinky 

Mama Mac : no, don't even think about it. 

The chaos child : too late. 

Mama Mac : Anyway, he's still unstable, come at your own risks. 

The chaos child : I like risks! 

Mama Mac : I will not be responsible for her death. 

Everyone's favorite : this is terrible mom behavior Macaque, :(

Mama Mac : I AM NOT A MOM! 

The chaos child : poor guy, he's in denial. 

Everyone's favorite : he'll come around. 

Mama Mac : I hate you both. 

The chaos child : *gasp* but we're so adorable, how could you! 

Everyone's favorite : impossible, we're unhateable! 

Mama Mac : debatable. 

The chaos child : you're just a cranky pants monkey. 

Mama Mac : both of you need to sleep, and to shut your mouths. 

Everyone's favorite : night Macaque, cuddle Monkey King for me. 

Mama Mac : Absolutely not. 

The chaos child : we know you do, there are pictures.

Mama Mac : He forced me. 

The chaos child : likely story. Just go back to your “nemesis” *COUGH* “boyfriend” *COUGH*. 

Everyone's favorite : they could be good friends, yk. 

The chaos child : when you're someone rivals for years, it's not rivalry anymore, it's gayness. 

Everyone's favorite : I can't argue with the facts, they're gays for each other, and it suddenly made a lot of sense. 

The chaos child : this is a bitter ex situation. 

Mama Mac : you both are delusionals, and blind. 

Everyone's favorite : THE HERO AND THE WARRIOR WERE LIKE THE SUN AND THE MOON.

The chaos child : that's like peak gay behavior. 

Everyone's favorite : How could I not see it before, nobody calls his rival the sun without feelings.

Mama Mac : it's poetry, POETRY, it's not literal. 

The chaos child : wow, gay poetry. 

Everyone's favorite : I'm questioning every interactions, how could I not see the gayness! 

Mama Mac : I'm out of here. 

The chaos child : you run away bc yk we're right, mah boy, you are gay. 

Everyone's favorite : the tension was so obvious too! Omg, it's like an enemy to lover situation! 

Macaque scowled and put aside the phone, not wanting to be teased anymore. Those two definitely had a running imagination, and way too much energy at this ungodly hour. At least, their silliness did chase his somber thoughts, and the lingering feelings of his nightmare. The warrior sighed and looked at the waterfall, eyes lost in violent water. His fingers twitched and his heart stuttered, he was seized by the want to explore his old home, the want to walk on familiar paths. It wasn't the first time he felt that way, but, till now, he had always ignored it, always pushed it away. 

It was becoming harder to not give in when what he longed for was within reach. 

The warrior was startled by a quiet chirp, he turned and saw Sun Wukong groggily trotting towards him. The sage sat beside him and yawned, eyes clouded by mist, his golden tail tied itself to the ebony monkey's hips. 

"You usually never woke up this early." Muttered the warrior, and the sage replied with a grunt, tail squeezing the macaque's waist as if he would disappear at any moment. "Yeah, okay, you're cranky, geez." Snickered the warrior. "You wanna take a walk?" He didn't know why he asked, why he dared to fathom it. He regretted asking the second he heard himself, but he didn't take it back, letting the sage decide for him. It was easier to let someone else decide for him, but it raised, at the same time, a bitterness he knew very well. No. He wasn't a follower, not anymore. "I'm taking a walk." Corrected the warrior, he rose, startling the sage, and walked towards the waterfall. 

Sun Wukong followed after him, this time not walking in his shadow, but beside him. Macaque hesitated before the waterfall, tiredness gnawing at him, doubts blooming in his mind. He knew giving in to this desire was bound to break him, he knew, deep within, it was a bad idea, it would shatter every wall he had tried to build. But he was tired of fighting against his own wants, tired of pretending he didn't long for his home, for places that were once familiar. 

Tonight, he wasn't strong enough to resist temptation. 

The macaque passed the waterfall, and walked in the forest. He knew where he wanted to go, the place he wanted to see the most. Flower Fruit Mountain changed, a fate inevitable, for it was a place holding life, and life was never static. It was strange, to see familiar blending with newness, to see trees marked by his claws tangled with trees he had never seen before, to see rivers he dived in flowing in new places. It was bittersweet to feel the weight of time, but it was also reassuring to see that he hadn't been completely erased, that his memory resided within the steps he imbued in the mountain. 

Sun Wukong looked around frantically, ears twitching at every sound, tail lashing excitedly behind him. It wasn't the first time the King walked in the forest, he wandered sometimes, pushed by childish wonder. But it was the first time he walked with Macaque, mayhaps this was enough to make it new and exciting. 

Macaque stopped before a cliff, and laid under a towering tree, watching the glimmering sky with a hammering heart. The sage laid beside him, snuggling him shamelessly. This was his haven, the place he sneaked in when life was stretching him thin, he spent hours napping under this tree, hours watching the sky change, hours cuddling with his best friend. 

Nostalgia didn't seize him, no, what drowned him was something he never expected. Relief. As if the weights he had dragged for days suddenly disappeared. 

"I'm home." Whispered the macaque, as if he didn't quite believe it, or perhaps didn't want to. Feelings surged in, it burned to lay there, his skin scorched by memories, but he didn't move, didn't dare to. "I'm home." He repeated, more certain, more firm, as if to chase away any doubts lingering, any fears shackling him. "I'm home." And he let the tears fall down, not capable of holding them together, not capable of hiding the ocean dedicated to his lost home he hid for eons. 

He was home. This wasn't the shadows of a tree laying on the roadside, or the shambles of an abandoned house, this was home, a land with a place for him. He let himself be overwhelmed, be drowned by feelings, he was home, and it hurts, it burned him because he knew he couldn't stay forever, he knew he would be chased one way or another, nobody wanted a battered shadow in his land. He knew this was weak of him, to give in to his own longing, he fought it for so long, only to crumble because he wasn't strong-willed enough. But it also soothed his bleeding heart, the one longing for safety, familiarity, warmth. He was home, and for the first time since he landed there, he cried. 

The first tears were small, quiet, a weight barely there that could be wiped by a single flick. But the more he cried, the louder he became. The tears surged in, one after another, his face crumbled, pain etched on his skin. He cried, till his whole body was shaken by tremors, till his voice echoed in the night, old wails stumbling one after another. He couldn't stop, shaken by the storm, drowned with his own tears, he couldn't even breathe. 

It would be a stupid way to die, but fitting for the fool he was. 

Golden arms hugged him, he was pushed in a soft chest, petted by familiar hands. Coos and purr echoed in his ears as he curled on himself, shaking as if he was standing on the coldest mountain. Magic surged in his veins, a way to calm him, to ground him, to appease the storm seizing him. He cried till the sun rose, never clinging to the golden fur, but diving in it greedily. 

When he looked at the one hugging him, he realized the other must have used quite a lot of magic to calm him, the glamor etched in his forehead faded away, revealing a wound in the shape of a crown. 

"You overdid it." Mumbled the warrior, voice rough, abused by cries. 

Some of Sun Wukong's glamours did break after he was reduced to this state, notably the one on his eyes, but the one on his forehead was special. It was stronger than any other veiling his body, carefully weaved, made to withstand anything, and stand (like the one on the macaque's face, one he refused to take down, no matter if he died of magic depletion). 

The macaque traced the scar with his eyes, he raised a hand, but hesitated when the King flinched. 

"I'm… it’s okay, tell me if you want me to stop." Muttered the warrior, he traced the wound with his claws, heart beating frantically. Perhaps, he was tired after crying for so long, after being overwhelmed by his own feelings, but he couldn't deny what was in front of him anymore. 

Sun Wukong was hurting, and as much as he didn't want to acknowledge it, as much as he wanted to think of his killer as a ruthless monster, he couldn't when one graze on his wound was enough to make him shake.

The macaque poured the drops of magic he received in his fingers, he ignored the pain seizing him, and veiled the wound with renewed glamor. It wasn't as strong, but it would do for now. 

The warrior sighed and dived in the sage's chest, not caring about anything, too tired to fall prey to hatred. He purred when the sage scratched his ears, it felt good, he could see why the golden monkey liked it so much when he did it. It felt nice, to be embraced, to be in familiar arms, to let go of his anger, and let himself enjoy what was given. 

"I'm sorry." Muttered the ebony monkey, he didn't know if he was apologizing for crying like a newborn cub, or for things he did long ago, he didn't care. "And thanks."

+

I did some doodles for another au of mine, the bimawen au, and I was : why not do some for this story too??

So here is a doodle of feral Wukong and Macaque,

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[the-monkey-ruler]

When and how many times did Sanzang kick Wukong out of the group?

I've talked about this but it was just two times. And agains I do hate that these are seen as such huge examples in the novel as "common" despite being examples of when the group is at its lowest points. These are just 2 arcs out of 33 other arcs that show how the team learns from their mistakes and tries to build each other up rather than a group that is continuously fighting each other. This is a group that continuously grows and changes and as such there are falls backs but this is far from the norm as the rest of the novel shows.

The first was about a year into the journey with White Bone Demon, the first demon they all faced together as a group. We plan to make the group fall apart due to their lack of teamwork worked very well as they have not built a foundation of trust, especially after the Ginseng Fruit arc and the Guanyin Abbey arc. Wukong at this point had killed and threatened more humans than demons in this point in the journey thus making his reliability shaking at best and creating a lot of conflict within the group. Bajie's lack of knowledge of the head-tightening fillet (as it has not been used in front of Bajie or Wujing and thus they doubted its credibility) wanted to get Wukong in trouble but rather it lead to Sanzang telling Wukong to leave as he wouldn't stop killing humans. While Wukong is right in this case that the "humans" he was attacking were a demon he had no proof other than his word and deductive reasoning. He was in the right but in the end, the demon HADN'T done anything yet which made the conflict of "Should people be punished for a crime they hadn't committed yet" comes into play as Sanzang was willing to believe Wukong if not for Bajie's influence but he was still firm that they were not attacked and no harm was done so there was no need to harm others first. Wukong's mind was focused on self-preservation while Sanzang was focused on trusting others and seeing good in everyone.

The second time was at the start of the Six-Eared Macaque arc, about 6 years into the journey, not quite halfway there but close! It was when Wukong and gang were attacked by bandits and while Wukong let Sanzang get away, Sanzang asked Bajie to go back and make sure that Wukong subdued the bandits rather than kill them all. Rather Wukong killed their leader and made them scatter still to Sanzang's dismay as they stopped to bury the bodies and pray for their soul as Wukong mocked the dead. They stopped by a local's house whose son was one of the bandits who came home and planned to kill the gang in revenge for their leader. The gang left that night but the bandits followed them and Wukong thought that this man has been given MORE than enough chances to not start a fight and stop being a disgrace to his family (Wukong even offered to kill their son to end their shame but they said he was their only son and THAT is the only reason they said no) went back despite Sanzang asking Wukong to spare them at least. Wukong rather killed them, beheaded the bandit-son, and brought his head back as a trophy. Sanzang was not happy about this and rather as Bajie said to make this guy's garv (his head at least) Sanzang told Wukong to leave after he STILL hasn't learned not to kill humans. He sends him away where Wukong goes to Guanyin and even she asks why Wukong INSISTS on attacking humans when he has the power otherwise. Guanyin of course conveys this in a better way for Wukong to reflect on his actions while Sanzang cools off and realizes he was acting rashly to give up on Wukong so fast. Then Six Ears shows up and that has to be fast-tracked.

Wukong does start to subdue humans, using clever and other tactics to make them see the error of their ways or having them arrested properly rather than executing them himself. We see this at the Ruler of the Kingdom of Miefa as he shaved the entire kingdom's heads to teach them a lesson and with the bandits in with Squire Kou and his household, freezing them with his magic and trying them up while they were frozen. Wukong has immeasurable magic powers and so much strength that he can easily overcome humans without breaking a sweat it is very clear from the start he does not kill humans because he has to but rather because he really thinks that they deserve to die and he should be the one to kill them. It takes him a long time to learn that empathy and start to show that empathy other to his monkeys and his own party of pilgrims and while these moments are where the group is the most divided this also highlights how the group finally becomes one in mind and goal as for the second half of the journey is more focused on their building of teamwork and trust.

[winterpower98]

Heard about possessed wukong being in the stone age AU so the fanfiction anon is here (✍️)

"I- I'm sorry- I'm sorry- i didn't want this-"

the white Macaque coughed out, full of tears and red eyes.

it's been a day or two since the accident and luckily nothing too bad happened.

What happened though is the king was back, with his brown eyes having a shade of blue,

and a silver armor on him.

Blue dosen't suit him too well, gold is better.

the macaque was apologizing like if it was the last thing he was going to do in his life, in front of the blue king in the middle of the forest.

"I'm-.. I'm sorry who are you?"

the king asked, a confused child stood in front of macaque, with a little smile and a woman behind him.

"Wh- wuko- monkey it's me! Macaque- what- what did this woman do to you?!"

The macaque looked at the woman with scared eyes, what did she do to his king?

"You said you would bring him back! This is not- this is not what I meant!"

He waited two days for this. The woman promised him. He had his hopes too high up.

"What do you mean child? I brought sun wukong back just as asked! His memory may not be the same as before though.."

in fact, the king was an amnesiac. Having no idea what was going on, simply following the woman orders.

Even though the white monkey gave him nostalgia of something he doesn't quite remember.

"Now child, you're job here is done. i do not need your service anymore, go back to where you came from!"

The woman ordered, she was kind enough to spare this poor soul who got tricked with her manipulation like many others.

"No! No I'm no going back! i want my king back!"

The macaque screamed with a stomp of his foot.

"I want my friend back! I want him like he was before! This is not what i asked for!"

Demanded with other stomps.

"Oh you ungrateful child, why must you complain so much? I gave you the privilege to see once again your little statue friend, and you repair me with screams and whines? back i say!"

as the smile of the woman faded, ice rising to her feet, giving the macaque one more chance to leave and never look back.

"No! No! No! You promised me to give me back my king!"

"Your king does not remember! he cannot go back and rule as he doesn't know how!"

"just give him back!"

and that was the last straw, as the woman frowned, and the child in blue stepped forward.

"how disrespectful. Couldn't expect anything from such a dirty demon like you."

as she looked away, almost disgusted to look at the small demon monkey.

not like she had to look for long, as the demon monkey got launched into a mountain not too far from the child in blue.

the child in question looked unfazed, as the color of his eyes turned completely light blue, while his hand cracked a little, but the cracks soon got fixed by ice growing on his hand and spreading.

- ✍️

DAMN BOY

And here I thought you guys were done torturing the monkeys in this AU

[chaozsilhouette]

A Father’s Love

Another piece for @winterpower98's Swap Au.

I don’t really have a time frame for this scene, but with all the horror MK has had to endure in this AU I couldn’t help myself. I just needed a bit of fluff to break up my writing. Plus, I am all for Tang showing just how much he loves MK and being a protective father figure.

The poor boy needs a break, but we all know it won’t last.

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“Well now, aren’t you a stubborn human.” Sun Wukong mused as he took in the one who dared to separate him from his creation.

The ground was split in a dozen directions. Craters dotted the landscape. The scent of volatile magic soaked the air. Yet, in the center of all this was a small circle of undisturbed land where his boy and the human stood unharmed.

The human didn’t look particularly impressive. If he had to guess, somewhere in his early to late thirties. He was obviously healthy but still suffered from the weaknesses all humans share. No, what truly caught his attention was the strangest sensation he knew this human. Almost as if the golden fillet was readying itself by his mere presence.

The human’s talent in magic was nothing to scoff at. Admittedly, it was nothing he couldn’t brush off, but seeing a human wielding so much raw power was supposed to be nearly impossible in this modern age. However, defying the odds here one stood before him trying to keep him from one of his treasures.

He was not alone in his curiosity. The Monkey King watched as MK stared at the bespeckled man in utter surprise.

“Since when could you do that?!” The newly revealed monkie demon all but screeched.

“Not too long.” The scholar cryptically stated.

His annoyance at the lack of an answer freed Mk of his fear. Just enough to swallow his need to be supported during this horrible moment and say what needed to be said. “You’ve got to run! Forget about me and get the others to safety!”

“I’d listen to my son if I were you, human.” The tyrant stated with a cocky smirk. “Since he’s started to learn his lesson about where he belongs I can be generous. You can take all your friends back home to rest up and we can continue another day.”

With a trembling hand, MK desperately gripped Tang’s pant leg. Praying that his love would be translated behind his pathetic display. “Please. I can’t see you get hurt because of me.” They were the kindest people he ever had the pleasure of knowing. He couldn’t bear knowing they got hurt trying to save him. The only reason they were in this crisis was because of him. If he hadn’t been so weak...

If he didn’t allow himself to be used, Wukong would still be trapped.

“Mk, you know I can’t leave anyone behind to suffer this tyrant’s hospitality.” The word was hissed out with more venom than a viper pit. “Especially not after learning of Macaque’s past.” Tang adjusted his stance so his side now supported the youth. His fingers twitched randomly, his eyes remained locked onto the armored demon. “Besides, we both know Mei would gut the two of us if we even think of considering it.”

It made no sense. They were in the presence of a being that filled the nightmares of all, from the lowliest human to celestial kings, yet young simian couldn’t help but smile. “Good point.” Compared to the Monkey Tyrant the young dragon was an insect, but she had earned the fear that accompanied her ire.

“Such a touching display. But do you really think you will be able to give him what he needs? That others will accept who he really is? You can say you love him until the sun blows up, but it will never change the fact he is me.” The Monkey King’s smile showed nothing but cruel amusement, but his tail betrayed his fraying patience.

“Do you take me for a fool? It doesn’t matter what he looks like, where he came from, or how he started out. He is my Son! And I refuse to let anyone abuse his kind heart ever again!”

Two hands slammed into the ground with unnatural force. Mystic runes and circles filled the air as the battlefield was bathed in a gentle yellow light. Golden ropes wrapped around the Tyrant as the earth formed a five-sided fortress around him. Symbols were burned into each side, somehow not concealing the burning rage from Sun Wukong’s enraged expression.

With that done, Tang grabbed MK’s hand and ran knowing full well both their lives depended on it. “Come on! That won’t distract him for long.”

Or at all. They hadn’t cleared five meters before they started to rocks crumble and mystic bindings viciously snap.

Somehow the two of them were able to reunite with Macaque and Mei in order to get some much-needed distance without any major obstacles. It was silently agreed that the Moneky Tyrant had let them leave. Why? They didn’t want to think about it. All they could do was patch themselves up and think of a new plan.

_____________________________

Pigsy treated them all to a delicious meal, after yelling at the four of them for tangling with the Monkey King. About how they could have gotten killed and berating them for thinking about leaving them behind. Tang was certain Pigsy’s volume was the only reason Macaque looked uncomfortable.

That night they all stayed with Sandy. It was agreed that they should stick together until the heat dies down. Mei stepped out to call her parents to warn them about ... everything. While Macaque had essentially taken over as her father figure it didn’t mean her birth parents were no longer a target. Macaque aided Sandy in setting up the spare rooms. Piggy was just cleaning up dinner and preparing a few things for breakfast.

Leaving Tang to begin creating wards to hang around the boat and MK to uncomfortably sit as he stared at the scholar.

“Why did you do that?”

Tang pushed up his glasses, looking more grave than the teen ever recalled seeing.

“I was preparing that spell the moment I opened my mouth. I figured after that outburst it was only a matter of time before he got bored playing nice and when for the kill. Despite what movies would make you believe, talking is not a free action.” His precious disciples learned that lesson the hard way.

“No. I mean...when you said all that stuff, did you really mean it? You view me as a son?” MK could barely get the last word out. It felt like all of this was just a wonderful dream and when he awoke he’d be back on Flower Fruit Mountain.

Tang set down his brush to fully face the demon. “Of course, I mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He poured his entire soul into that truth, a fact he was proud to scream to the heavens.

“Even when I look like this?” Sharing the same face of the demon who caused so much pain and suffering. He could barely stand it, but the thought of continuing to live in his human form just felt even more unbearable. He was tired of lies. Tired of being used.

“So you look like a demon monkey, big deal." Tang waved off the concern, regaining his trademark confident sass. "Last I checked, we are close with several demons one of which is a rather famous monkey. At your core, you are still the same MK we grew to know and care about. You may have started out as Wukong’s clone, but you have come a long way since then.”

Seeing that the boy was still unconvinced, Tang wrapped his arms around the child’s shoulders and brought him in for a hug. “You will always have a place with me, with any of us. You are loved and appreciated, Xiǎotiān. Never forget that.” Circles were slowly traced on his back as shaky breathing gradually evened out.

Xiǎotiān nuzzled his father’s neck. Taking in the scent of aged paper, ink, and tea. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course.” Gentle fingers slowly combed through his hair.

The world was falling into the depths of madness, but in this moment Xiǎotiān could deceive himself into believing everything would work out.

[simpz-art-stash]

Late beginnings

Summary: Mac goes out for a drink, and happens upon some advice he takes into consideration about his skewered relationship with Wukong. Before finally taking some action to mend the long burnt bridge. (Author’s note: I barely did any beta reading for this so if it’s worded strangely that’s just how I write without the normal filter on. I’m country so HOWDY) Next Page ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night was late, but he didn’t care, he might as well have been nocturnal with the way his whole life revolved around the whole stereotype of shadows and shit. He’d walked into a bar he’d passed through a few times before, donning his human disguise of course beforehand, and walked in without sparing anyone else a glance. Before planting his rear in one of the stools seated at the front bar, ordering a drink to get the night started. “I’m really looking forward to seeing that new Monkey King movie with the trailer they just released. You saw it too right?? The whole style of the film is on par with their most recent game- OH, you think they’re gonna make a game of it?? I bet you they wiiiill!~” Ugh, great, just what he’d come here to avoid.

Mac’s eyes glanced to the blabbermouth boasting about whatever new movie was being made about his ex, to see two girls residing a ways down near the other end of the bar a few seats away from him. Both looking to have had a fair night themselves already if any of the cups and plates hanging around their spot was anything to go by. “Probably. I hope it’s better than last game that came out on the Brick 360, the bugs in that thing were gross to deal with.” Their friend commented back. Before looking down at their phone and claiming that it was getting late and that they had to go. “Yeah I’ll see ya Monday!” The chick waved their friend off a lazy farewell after they’d paid their bill before going back to their drink, now taking less tedious sips as the mood seemed to smooth out from their conversation prior. “I see someone’s a pretty big fan of that ol’ man.” Macaque piped up from where he sat, earning the attention of the stranger he’d directed his comment towards. “The Monkey King yeah?” Sparks danced in the chick’s eyes at the recognition of the name, before the stranger perked up and beamed a smile back at him, “You betcha! I’m a total nerd for that legend.” ‘A legend, hah.’ “S’the whole reason I moved to China in the first place.” She jabbed a thumb at her chest, “All the way from America!” Mac whistled, “That’s a pretty far leap to take, even for a legend. What, you hopin’ you’ll get the chance to see em’ or somethin’?” He sneered, taking his glass and lazily swirling it in his hand. “I wish!” She laughed, “Nah I mostly just moved here for work. If anything though it’s cuz a them for where I am now. I’d never even heard of him till about five years ago!” Mac blinked, lowering his drink from his lips, “You’re joking…”

“Not at all! No one hardly knows the story back home. Only reason I found out was cuz I just started gettin’ into anything monkey-related as a hobby.” She pointed at him, “Don’t laugh either, it’s a wildly popular standpoint to have these days online.” Mac quirked a brow at that, he’d hardly touched the internet these days save for whenever he needed some quick info on something he couldn’t find elsewhere. He held his hands up, “Hey I ain’t judging…” He smirked a little to betray the look that he totally was though. It was kinda funny how ironic it was him being there right then. She squinted at him, “Anyways...Yeah, I’d seen stuff of him online, but I’d never paid much attention to it up until recently.” “What made you change your mind?” Mac boredly probed, taking a sip. She simply shrugged, “I was in a dark headspace, guy made me laugh.” He paused, “Wait, seriously??” “I mean have you HEARD half the crazy shit he’s done??” ‘Babe I’ve LIVED through half the shit he’s done.’ “Like, literally, the guy is HILARIOUS. My favorite story out of them all being one where he literally tricked THREE taoist immortals into drinking his own piss!!” She burst out laughing while Mac choked on his drink a little, not having expected to hear that of all things. Sure he’d heard a few of the shenanigan’s his peaches had gotten up to throughout his journey to the west but he’d never heard that one before. Nor had he the patience to read through all that mess of context that had been published either. “Ahhh man, it still gets me…” The chick sighed with a few leftover laughs as she wiped a tear from her eye. “What about you? What’s your favorite story?” She asked. And suddenly Mac felt like he’d been put on the spot as he stared back at her. “Come ooon, surely there’s one that’s gotten your gut rolling.” She pried. ‘Plenty, but there ain’t no way in hell I’d tell a soul.’ “Bahh...there ain’t the first one that comes to mind that I’d like. Honestly I’m not even much of a fan.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Whaaat?? Aw come on! There’s tons of cool n’ funny stories!” “Heh..can’t imagine what you find so charming about a guy who’s too good for his own friends.” Mac spitefully twacked himself mentally for spewing something so personal like that out. Ugh, and he hadn’t even finished half his drink yet… The chick sitting to his left seemed to tilt her head a little before she squinted at him. Her silence being what brought his attention from his drink to her as he blinked back with a quirked brow. “What?” “Your eyes, they’re like raging storm clouds.” She pointed out. He blinked, not really sure how to feel about that. The only one who’d ever really pointed that out to him before was… “...So?” “Nothing!...” She shrugged, turning back away towards her own drink as if no conversation at all had happened between them. Whatever...he had his fill of shit to drink to either way. The night might’ve been late but he was just getting started. “He makes me laugh though.” She pointed out, earning her a glance. “All his stories n’ stuff. If there was ever a man I’d want, it’d be one who could always make me laugh.” “Hmph, not one for strength?” He took a long sip. Ignoring the bitterness of others fawning over someone he’d come to love before he’d gotten so popular. “Strength is fine n’ all, but it can only take a relationship so far..you gotta have more pieces to put in that crockpot of a relationship if you wanna make it taste good. Stuff like patience, honesty, a little bit of everything to help it all come together to make it juuuuust right.” “Hm…” “It can’t be all just you putting the stuff in there either, it’s gotta be a contribution from both gardens. Otherwise you’ll just barren your lands and be left with nothing to spare yourself or others in your life with.” She glanced at Mac, “Relationships are tricky like that, but they should always be a 50/50 split~” She winked. That...actually sounded like pretty sound advice. Something he’d heard a little here and there before but never so simply laid out. Though it made sense from his standpoint, fairness n’ all that. But he’d been that way with Wukong before and it had never worked out, all the bickering and such, so what had gone wrong? “Can I...ask you something?” Mac inquired. “Shoot.” “What’re your thoughts on..a relationship that seemed fine, but then the other changed so much that everything about it fell apart?” “Mmm...care to sprinkle in a lil more context?” The chick eyed him. Mac’s face scrunched up a little, no idea why he was asking some random mortal for relationship advice of all things. “Hey man. We’re both probably never gonna meet again after tonight, so if you’ve got skeletons in your closet, your best place to let em’ out is here. Bartenders are known for being the most well kept secret keepers in all the world after all~” She winked at the bartender in question who simply looked the other way with a look that might’ve suggested such a fact as truth. “Hm…” Ah screw it, “Alright alright…” He sighed and put his drink down, “There’s..someone. We used to be real close, we were strong together but then uh..shit got real and he had to go deal with it. But when he came back he uh, wasn’t the same as before, an I might’ve sorta assumed he was cheating on me so…so we kinda fell out.” The chick nodded, “Ahh..the classic misunderstanding of change and cheating, a tale as old as time.” She seemed to hum a moment before she turned from where she was seated, if not to hop down off her stool and plop down on the one right up next to him. “Uh-” “Shhh, lemme see those eyes.” She squinted, leaning in and staring deep into his. It’d would’ve been really unnerving if she hadn’t said anything about them before, now he was a lil put off that he might’ve been asking a witch of all things for advice… “Right. Well, at least you feel bad about it. So there’s that.” He blinked and his brows furrowed, “Wh- of course I feel bad about it, it was his fault-” He suddenly had a finger pressed to his lips. “Nope! Nooononono, you do not get to throw all the blame elsewhere like that sweetheart. There ain’t no way in hell you’re gettin’ a second chance with them if you keep that up.” She pulled her hands back. His face scrunched up and he found himself crossing his arms, if he had his tail out it would’ve been irritably swaying behind him right then at just how annoyed he was getting at this weird lady and her words. “Oh yeah? An what do you think’s best then huh?” “I dunno if you’d be up for that kinda challenge…” She idly fiddled with an imaginative piece of lint off her sleeve, which only seemed to irritate Mac further at the thought of him not being able to handle Wukong of all people. Like sure he’d gotten his ass handed to him before but he could still hold his own! “Try me.” The chick glanced back at him with a smirk, which caught him off guard for a second before he shot her a glare back. “Alright, but it’s definitely not gonna be as quick or easygoing of a recovery as you might hope it’ll be. Nor is there even a chance of you recovering it in the first place. But, you at least got that spark enough to try so who am I to deny?” ‘Hmpt, dam right I got a spark.’

“First of all, no more blaming, if you’re gonna tackle this properly, you gotta do yourselves a favor an quit it with the blame placing. Sure it’s easy, but it ain’t gonna get you nowhere but back to square one. It’s all in the past, the now is now. So push forward to fix it and put it behind you two so you can focus on the more important things.” “Easier said than done…” “Hey man, even if they don’t follow the same ruleset at first you could always work things out to make it one later on. I’m just tellin’ ya right now so you won’t just go diggin’ yourself a deeper hole.” Honestly at this point he was pretty much six feet down under, death to him would’ve been a mercy right then. “Fine…” He rolled his eyes. “Next up, apologizing…” -----------~----------- “I thought I told you to stay off my island.” Mac didn’t really glance back from where he stood high up on one of the breathtaking ledges that which Flower Fruit Mountain bolstered. His arms crossed, eyes sternly held against the leftover warmth of the late afternoon sun as it shifted the skies hues from blue to blood red. Hopefully that would be the only tinge of red the Mountain would see after today. “I know.” “What, no witty remark? Give me one good reason-” “I just wanted to talk.” Mac stated plainly. “Why the hell should I give you the chance?” “...” Mac wasn’t sure if he could come up with a good enough reason after the shitshow he’d caused him the last few centuries, most recent being his spat with him between MK. “I’m sorry.” That seemed to catch the king off guard, as he paused in his vicious glare to stare at the other. “Excuse me??” “I’m.Sorry.” Mac turned finally to Wukong, that look of fiery malice having softened immensely upon meeting their eyes. “I was wrong for what I did and I’m sorry.” Wukong’s face looked like it had had a stroke with how frozen in place it was, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hurting everyone around you just to get back at you, I was wrong for doing that. And I just wanted to apologize.” Mac’s face twisted a little, the words coming out a little rougher than he’d liked, but he’d managed to get three steps in so far… “If you think a few sorry’s are gonna be enough to make up for all that crap then you gotta nother’ thing comin Mac.” Wukong finally shook off the surprise and crossed his arms with a steely gaze. “Nah I know they ain’t worth shit with as long as it's been...which it’s been..a really, really long time come to think of it..nearly 3000 years…” Fucking yikes. “What’s your point?...” Wukong raised a brow at him. “My point is...my point..” What was his point? To make amends and hope they’d get back together? To go back to the way things were? That couldn’t be done with the way things were now. Wukong had a successor, a moral compass, a lotta shit that Mac didn’t. A lotta shit that he wanted but never could figure out how to get his own. His face scrunched up a little and he sighed, “I..just wanted to make things right.” “Oh-hoh? After so long you finally decided to admit you were at fault? Sorry Mac, but it’s waaaay too late for that.” Wukong huffed, “Honestly, this is probably just another one of your stupid tricks if anything. The old Macaque would never throw himself down like that.” “Well maybe I’ve changed!” Mac exclaimed suddenly, his temper flaring a bit as his eyes flashed lightning. “3000 years later? As if…” Wukong rolled his eyes and turned away, “You’ve still got that same look in your eyes you always do whenever we fight. Do me a favor and just keep away from the hot springs this time yeah? The last time you were here you sent a whole dam boulder over there and smashed half the pools.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And I happen to take my once a month bath’s very seriously.” Mac’s nostrils flared a little at just how flamboyant Wukong was acting towards him and his attempt to make amends. How he just saw his attempt as a joke and nothing more, it pissed him off. Wukong had changed and everyone had accepted him, well not everyone, but still, why couldn’t the same be for him? Had he really fooled himself into believing that there was a chance he and Wukong could be together again? His shoulders slumped a little. Of course, who was he kidding. A 3000 year old pit of grudges wasn’t about to just up and disappear at the wave of a white flag. This was Wukong, the same guy who still playfully pestered the gods and demons around him for past conflicts that had happened between them. -----------~----------- “But you can’t just go, ‘ooo I’m so sorry for what I did.’ Nah, you gotta follow the five steps.” The chick claimed. “Yeesh, this a learning course now?” Mac tilted his head to the side. “It is if you wanna make things right.” She claimed matter a factly. “The five steps have never failed me before and have worked wonders for any an all my relationships. Might not quite have the same range of effect you’re going for but it’ll at least be a good start.” “Heh, you got the guts to back up that case?” Mac sneered. “I will if you don’t manage to screw it up.” The chick pointed out. “The five steps go as follows.” - express sorrow (I’m sorry) - own guilt (I was wrong) - name specific wrongs (I did X) - name impact (I hurt you) “And finally...” -----------~----------- “What can I do to prove myself to you?” Macaque asked finally. “What can I do to at least make it to where we can..not fight anymore..and just talk?...” Wukong stood there for a long moment, his features unreadable as their silence was muffled by the wind bellowing between them both from being so high up. “You really are serious about this aren’t you?...” Wukong’s head shifted ever so slightly, but not enough to where Mac could get a reading on his emotions. “I’m tired of fighting and waiting and thinking that if enough time passes things’ll go back to the way they were...when they never will. Trying to hurt you isn’t gonna make the old you come back, no matter how many times you beat me down...It’ll never be the same.” Mac admitted finally. A quiet gust settled down between them, before Wukong seemed to let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. “Can’t believe it took me 3000 years to beat the sense into you.” He turned and looked back at the other, where he no longer held a look of seething hate, but more akin to that of the same tired look just as the one Mac wore. Mac felt a sliver of guilt wriggle its way into one of the cracks of his heart and he glanced away, pulling a hand back and scratching his head. “Yeah well...your kid hit me pretty hard last time, enough to knock it in place.” A small smile crept a little onto his face. “Hm~ He’s gettin’ pretty good at hittin’ stuff with that old stick.” Wukong’s eyes glinted a little at the appeal of how proud he was for MK having taken Mac out the way he did. A little over the top and flashy, just like him.” “He’s got a pretty strong master to thank for that…” Mac found himself yearning a little for that same glint to be reflected on his memory the same way as MK’s. Not that he couldn’t see himself holding the same appeal for MK the way Wukong did, kid was strong, just a lil desperate in some of the cracks that shaped his outline. Something Macaque found that was easy enough to take advantage of, and something Wukong held a blind eye to. “Hm.” Wukong’s reply pushed him out of those thoughts for the moment as they shared a brief look between one another. A glimmer of reconsideration flashing between the two before Wukong finally turned his head away to drink in the sunset before them. “One chance.” Mac felt his heart nearly stop at that answer. “I’ll give you one chance, but if you screw this up, don’t even think about showing your face to me again.” Wukong replied, “I mean it this time…” Mac swallowed a little and nodded. Anything, he’d be willing to do anything to gain back what little trust he could from Wukong. “Good...you can start making up for it by apologizing to MK.” Mac blinked and sputtered a little as Wukong turned away and began to make his way back down the mountain. A smile playing on his lips while Macaque groaned to the heavens about his next trial.

[the-night-writer1]

maybe some lost son au content ?

Ye)

It was a Saturday afternoon as Red boy found himself searching for his younger companion. The monkey was supposed to have come to the castle by now. It very unusual that he wasn't by Red boy's side at this very moment. If Red didn't find him soon mother would notice!

"Monkey boy this isn't funny where are you hiding!?" Red yelled out as he walked in to the garden. He looked around for darker shadows and checked his own every couple minutes.

This wasn't funny! Did that baboon what him to get in trouble again for "losing" them? He was grounded for a month last time! He was mad as he stormed towards the garden lake to check there.

He was never really for plants they were just to fragile for his liking. He was going to rip that idiot a new one for making him have to search! He was the prince here not Shanyao!

He was about to yell again when he spotted the monkey sitting by the lake side. He stopped in his tracks, the monkey was hurt. Red boy knew he had started training with his father recently but mother never left Red with serious injuries after practice sparing.

Shanyao had slash marks across his arms and bruises. It made Red shiver to see the monkey so disheveled and tired. It actually hurt, gods why did it hurt to see that fool tired? Usually Red boy be thanking heaven for the break from the twelve year olds antics. Yet this was soul crushing.

He slowly walked over and sat next to Shanyao. The younger boy shiver and glanced up him in tears.

"it's just me monkey boy....are you alright?" Red son asked softly as he reached over to put his hand on Shan's back. Shan buried his face back in his knees.

"don't call me that please...I don't deserve to be a monkey" Shanyao said as he choked down tears and began to shake as Red son touched him,"I'm not good enough... I'm never gonna be good enough to be what I am"

"why is that? Who told you, you're not good enough to be a celestial monkey?" Red son asked as he started to get angry on his companion's behalf. Shanyao was just as worthy of his title as Red boy was of his own! So just as absurdity of who ever said Shan didn't deserve that title was a blasphemous fool! He was going to fight them.

"Father... I'm not learning fast enough because of how sick I get and I keep stumbling when we train and and-" Shanyao said as he choked on his tears and rubbed his eyes. Red son got up and cracked his knuckles.

"I'm going to fight him! He has no right to say such things to you father or not!" Red son said as he towards the garden exit. Shanyao stumbled to his feet to try and stop Red. Grabbing the older boy's arm.

"He'll kill you! I just *hic* need to get better! Stronger!"Shanyao pleaded through hiccups as the bull dragged him towards the exit.

"I don't care I will not stand for this!" Red boy yelled sternly. He wasn't going to stand for it even if mother tried to stop him. Shan couldn't help his immune system or that fool moving to quickly in his training.

---

Macaque had been drinking tea with Iron fan in the foyer when a fireball nearly hit him in the face from out of nowhere. Both adults were surprised as they turned to where it came from to see the fuming fourteen year old.

"HOW DARE YOU!!" Red boy hissed as he summoned another fire ball. Poor Shanyao trying to stop him in tears.

"darling, what did Macaque do to inspire this rage and disrespect?" Iron fan asked calmly as she got her fan out to deflect another blow.

"He told Shanyao that Shan's not worthy of being a celestial monkey! Not to mention these injuries that fool gave Shanyao training him!!!" Red boy shouted as Iron fan turned to Macaque," I will not stand for such slander!"

"Red please stop I don't want father to hurt you!" Shanyao begged as he wrapped his arms around Red's arms. Exposing the injuries on his injuries to Iron fan. Who subsequently hit Macaque upside the head.

"must I teach you the difference between tough love and abuse Liu Er? He's 10!" Iron fan hissed at the monkey before turning back to their boys," Red son go take care of dear Shanyao's wounds and get some treats from the kitchen. I'll handle things from here."

"come with me Shanyao we'll get your favorites" Red son said as he wrapped his arm around Shanyao's waist and teleported off.

[dxwnxdusk]

[ SACRIFICE ] with Chang'e being wounded quite a bit >:)

Macaque was not prepared. Running low on steam from sleepless nights pensive over his thoughts and emotions, it affected his awareness and overall ability to function. Slower, more careless and mind too full of a certain pesky goddess and how this would affect him after so much good progress… he was unfortunately an easy target. Dealing with demons and trying to protect himself on her home turf and the alike, he was sluggish, half-hearted in his attempts.  

In the end, it was his downfall. His and Chang’e’s.

Clumsiness and not paying attention made him fall for a trap he’d commonly spot. Carelessness for his own well being had been counterproductive and… seemingly, the demons were fine with taking him and not Chang’e. That… was all right. If his error spared Chang’e another round of anguish, he was content with his unfortunate fate. Smothering was the energy slowly creeping up his form, grotesque limbs holding onto him with sharp claws digging in, bleeding from wounds he’d likely not heal. Eyes closing, he was…

“Macaque!”

…saved?

Eyes snapping open at inevitable doom being stalled, Macaque stared up at his savior. Holding onto him for dear life was Chang’e. No, no, no, you have to let me go – she’d wind up stuck with him, that wasn’t the plan – let go, let GO LET GO – reflexively his own grip on that hand firmed, preventing him from being pulled further into the hellish hoard – Chang’e, please, let me go.

Chang’e didn’t let him go. Instead, he was wrenched free with unimaginable power. Macaque tumbled through the air before expelling some of his own energy to steady himself. Swiveling around on the spot, he noticed how he’d been thrown away from the minions holding him down, in favor of the massive attack of raging ice now sweeping downwards. Eyes widening at what he saw, he froze in the air. Breath caught in his throat, his tail fur bristled, and his heart and stomach simultaneously sank.  

“W-wait, I—” he tried to call out but his intonation barely rose above croaking. A feeble, shaking hand extended out toward Chang’e who was slowly being swallowed by the masses, the enemy which she’d hadn’t need to face, throwing herself into harms way in his stead – “C-Chang’e—!” Was that his voice? All broken and breathless? He’d not heard himself vocalize like that before.

The explosion that occurred from the energy of not only the goddess unleashing her own attack into spiraling heart of the 'storm', taking the attack meant for him and unleashing an incredible amount of power he'd suspected she'd have. Except for the way she flies back into him, colliding into him with a force that sends him skidding back, arms moving to support the now limp goddess, there's too much – The damage, he can't fix such damage. Her name is strained on his lips, open horror at the fact she'd taken such a step in his stead.

Despite running low on reserves, Macaque’s miserable anger fueled new life for him. Having slowly let the shadows pool around him, the form comes naturally, the giant that expressed his suffering, his rage at it's peak. The 'kaiju's' mouth opening to reveal teeth as it bellows, accompanying his own yell of rage. Outraged sparks of energy left him each time his hands clenched into fists wishing to embed in some poor soul who came near. Which he'd take out on the pathetic lot that dared to come onto the moon to cause trouble. He doesn't care for the fact he's about to massacre the souls in front of him, they'd been willing to kill him and the goddess of the very domain, there was no NEED for a shred of mercy.

He'd EVISCERATE them for what they did to Chang'e

[kitkat1003]

Who Are You Really?

Spirit Masterpost (Ao3 link there)

Chapter 2: Find A Way In

Summary: This town's got quite the cast of characters

Spirit spends the next couple of months on reconnaissance.  They hop over rooftops and monitor the town where the supposed successor lives.  They hadn’t had the time to ask for a description after getting their orders from the Demon Bull Family, and they’re afraid to go back to the trio with their query.

Something about that home is broken. Spirit has spent enough time in a broken home to know it’s not a nice place to be in for long.  Best to stay away unless they’re needed.

The town that the successor lives in is pretty lively. They only assume this is where the successor lives, though, because the successor had arrived to fight Demon Bull King rather quickly and would likely need to be close by.

They watch the city from the rooftops.  Bright colors, people, loud noises—they would hate to be down there, lost in the madness, but from a far enough distance it’s tolerable.

The people are so...loud.  There’s so much stuff here.  So many things, sights, sounds.  It’s awful pretty, especially the glowing stuff.  Spirit tries touching it, but it’s really hot. Whatever it is, it burns.

They’re sitting on top of a skyscraper, taking a break with some cheese tea they got because they were curious about it, when the sky shifts.  The weather begins changing without reason.  That gets them to jump down, because it sounds like a storm is brewing and the higher up you are the more likely you are to be hit by lightning.  Getting hit by lightning does not sound appealing.

They duck down into an alleyway, shifting into human form just as Red comes onto the myriad screens all over the city.  

Spirit has to give him credit, it’s certainly a foreboding speech.  They don’t do well when giving speeches.  Often when they’re sent to intimidate or kill they either write up a script on their way there or stay silent.  Whichever is more effective, anyway.

They lean against the wall as mortals panic, pulling out their nifty little phone.  It’s sturdy, which is good, since they can be a bit clumsy with their things.

‘Red’ They type out.  They gave him their number when they got a phone, excited to have one.  He’d texted them a lot of boxes.  They don’t know what the boxes mean, but they hope they’re nice.

‘I heard your speech up on the screens!  It was very articulate and polite, and threatening!  I think your dad will be mighty impressed with you.

Do you need my assistance?  Please let me know.  I’m in the area, so I can come quickly!

From,

Spirit’

They rock back and forth on their feet, turning their head to the side and watching as the mortals all vanish into their buildings, the streets becoming empty in minutes.  Spirit has to admire the speed of it.  Maybe they got more vigilant after the attack by Demon Bull King.  It’s only been a few months since the attack, long enough to set in some sense of safety but short enough that they would still be on edge.  Spirit knows the timeline of overcoming traumatic experiences.  They start to fade out of the forefront after about half a year if you’re lucky.

Their phone buzzes.  It’s from Red!

They blink at the deluge of boxes, using the little arrow buttons on their phone to scroll down.

‘i don’t need anyone!  Thnx for the compliment’

Spirit blinks a few times, and shrugs.  Red never is very eloquent in text form, and they’ve heard that brevity is the soul of wit!  Whatever that means.  Spirit isn’t quite sure.  Plus, they can understand the desire to do everything by yourself, especially when you’re doing something to prove yourself to someone.

Since the town is pretty much deserted, Spirit takes the time to walk around, get to know the place.  They know it plenty from a bird’s eye view, but whenever you scope out a territory it’s best to know all the angles.  They trace the different side streets with their eyes and memorize the street signs.  They might make a diagram, to make sure the layout sticks in their head.

They’re pretty calm, until they feel the ever ethereal power that comes only from one source.

The Monkey King.

Something like primal terror freezes them in place for a split second, before they race away running as far away from the outpouring of heavenly power that comes with the Monkey King’s presence.  They can’t even think about where they’re going, feet pressing hard against the messy street pavement. T, crunching on glass and debris without thought because they just need to get away.  They know who Monkey King is. They know that they would mean nothing to such a monarch, to such a being.  They have no favors to spare, nothing to keep themself safe, so why wouldn’t he jump on the chance to get rid of them?

Considering their reputation, considering the times they’ve colluded with Monkey King’s enemies, there’s no reason to believe he’d let them live, if he saw them.  No reason to think that he wouldn’t leave them a bloody stain on the pavement the moment they appeared in his line of sight.

Or worse, he’ll \tear out an eye for your insolence.  He clearly doesn’t have a problem pulling out organs, from what you’ve heard in the stories, and with what he did to Macaque?  He’ll ruin you.  Well, at least you’d finally have a normal amount of eyes, right? 

Their breaths come in short bursts.  They climb up to the roof of a short building, curled into a little ball, and shut their eyes.

They don’t manage a single normal breath until they feel the energy of the Monkey King fade out.  He must have left, back to his mountain.  Good.  That means they won’t die today, which really is something!  Every day they manage to live is kind of a surprise, really.  They’re consistently shocked by their ability to keep going.

They carefully sit up and glance down at their feet.  Bleeding, apparently.  Not a surprise, given how they weren’t careful when sprinting through the street, but annoying nonetheless.  They pull out the pieces of glass, clean off the wound with some antibiotic ointment they keep on them at all times (Mom used to make it herself with stuff they scavenged in the forest, and now you can buy an even better version in the store for cheap), and wrap their feet in gauze.

Once that’s done, they lay back, spread eagle on the roof, staring up at the cloudy sky as they try to regulate their breaths.  They’re not exactly steady yet, but at least now they can breathe.  Soon, though, the sky clears, and Spirit has to squint to keep the sun from burning their retinas.  Their phone buzzes in their pocket, and they pull it out, holding it up so the shadow of it falls over their face, blocking the sun a little.

‘The garbage noodle boy will pay!’

They type out a reply.

‘Red.

I don’t know who the noodle boy is, but I’m sorry he made you upset.  Did you have to leave the weather tower?  Do you need anything?

Let me know!

Spirit.’

They get a bunch of boxes and a very hard to follow explanation, but eventually they parse it out.  Noodle boy is the nickname Red has for Monkey King’s successor, and apparently he came in and kicked Red out of the weather tower.  

Spirit asks if Red needs help with his next scheme, but Red declines.  That’s fine.

Spirit knows when they aren’t wanted.

As the sky clears, people begin to peer out their windows, and a few brave souls actually leave their homes.  Within an hour, the city is back to its bustling state, if a little slow as it tries to reset from the panic.  Spirit watches this happens with a fascination one would have with watching ants build a colony.  Well, not in the sense that mortals are just like ants, but they are simple in many ways and complicated in others.  Peril is unknown to them in a way Spirit never could understand, and to see them grapple with the appearance of it and work it into their community and lives is ever fascinating.  Mortals are very tight knit, after all.  Everything affects the collective.

Demons are typically solitary creatures.  They create small clans, sure, but they do not settle, create towns for themselves.

Spirit flits between the different factions and never settles themself.  They have a few caves that could become homes, if they stayed, but they never do.  Not when there are favors to hand out, places to explore.  Besides, an empty home isn’t a fun one to return to.

They’re about to head out, disappear into the forest areas outside of the town for the night, but the roof door to the building opens.

“Hey,” comes a gruff voice.

Spirit freezes.  They turn their head around, slowly, eyes wide.

The figure that stands before them is a stout pig demon, wearing what appears to be a chef’s coat.  He’s got stubble, sharp blue eyes, and small tusks that peek out over his upper lip.  He stares at them without animosity.  Mostly interest and confusion.

Spirit, at a glance, suspects that they’d be able to take him, should he attack.  A second glance, more a read of a soul, proves otherwise.  Whoever this is, there’s a power they’re hiding.  A lot of power.

“Don’t see a lot of monkeys around here,” The demon says.

“Sorry,” Spirit replies, immediately.  “I-uh-I didn’t know this was your roof, I was just sitting up here for the view-I-I’m leaving, so—”

They don’t want to get in a fight.  There’s no point in trying to throw on glamour, appearing human.  And they don’t know how to really explain themselves, either.

The demon raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, trying to put Spirit at ease.  It doesn’t exactly work, considering it reveals the demon’s claws.  Dull as they are, Spirit is sure he knows how to use them.  But they do recognize the sentiment.

“Hey, hey, no need to apologise, ‘s long as you’re not causing trouble,” he gives them a sort of half grin.  “Just figured I’d see what you were up ta, if you were alright.  Not often I find anyone hiding on a roof for a good reason.”

Spirit stares.  They don’t exactly know how to react in this situation, so they just.  Don’t.  Their tail curls around one leg and they wish they could just.  Run.  But then he might chase them.  That wouldn’t be good at all.

“Uh.”  He scratches the back of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable with the silence.  “I’m Pigsy.”

How...appropriate?  Spirit fights a giggle, because of course his name is Pigsy, what else could it be?  The smile worms its way onto their face anyway, and their ears twitch as they look anywhere but at Pigsy.

Pigsy smiles back and chuckles a little.

“Yeah, I know it’s kind of on the nose.  Not my first choice of a name, but apparently it’s everyone else’s,” he snorts.

This time, Spirit does giggle, their nose crinkling with the motion as their smile reaches their eyes.  They relax a little.  If Pigsy is at ease enough to joke, it’ll probably be okay.  They’ll probably be okay.

“You, uh, mind telling me your name?” Pigsy asks them, and they freeze again, suddenly shy.

They fidget, then sigh.  It would be rude to not tell him, even though they wanted to keep a low profile, but Pigsy is asking nicely, and he doesn’t seem mean.  What’s the harm?

“Spirit,” they reply.

With a wave, they leap across the space of the street between the two buildings, sliding down the back side of the building.  It’s easy enough to slip into human form and disappear into the crowds towards the outskirts of the city.

They sleep leaning against a tree.  It isn’t terribly comfortable, but Spirit is used to that.

The next month is spent really getting to know the town.  It’s a huge place, and Spirit wants to be aware of every nook and cranny, just in case.  They’re a bit on edge, too, because Monkey King was here, which means he’s unafraid to come back.  If they’re around when he does, that wouldn’t be good.

But if they know all the secret passageways, just maybe, they’ll be able to outrun him.  From what they hear, the Monkey King cares about mortals, so he’d probably try and mitigate collateral.  If they disappear into a crowd, or get underground, they’d likely escape.

They have plans.  They make them whenever they stop on a skyscraper and let the wind blow through their fur, when they look down at the steep drop and think about catching a hand over a thousand years ago, when they think about every step to the present.  They have a plan for every street corner and alleyway, should they be caught.  They have to.  It’s the only way to survive.

Their plans come to a halt when they feel a soul split.  Well, not split, because that’s not possible, but at the very, least spread out.  All kept together by a thin, golden tether that ties them to their source.  

It starts as just one tether.  Then two.  Three, seven, fifteen, thirty-eight, a hundred—Spirit goes dizzy trying to count them all, up on the tallest building in the town.  The weather tower’s roof basically has seats built into its design, if you push a window open and sit on the glass tile, so it’s fun to climb on top of it.

Eventually, they have to see what is happening, because the city is dancing with golden lights scattered across it, and it’s making Spirit dizzy.

A group of tethers coalesces in a single building, an anti gravity arcade.  Spirit hasn’t gone in, because they like when their feet stick to the ground, and the amount of noise and bright lights is enough to leave them dizzy for decades.  They hop to the roof of it, peering over the ledge to see just who is inside.

“Monkey King?”

Spirit whirls around, and comes face to face with a mortal, wearing a bright orange jacket, red pants, a white shirt with a target on the chest (which, not that Spirit would say, is a bit odd, and is asking for a chest injury), and a red headband.

Then, an identical copy of that mortal appears.  Then another.

Suddenly, Spirit is surrounded.

“Uh,” they start.  “No?”

Regardless of their valiant effort to make it known that they are not the Monkey King, they’re dogpiled quickly, grabbed by tens of hands and carried into the sensory hell that is the anti-gravity arcade.

Considering they’re not being hurt, and considering they can’t move their arms, Spirit doesn’t struggle much.  They just shut their eyes, coiling their tail around their leg and staying as limp as possible.  Resistance seems a bit futile, and if they’re malleable instead of stiff they’re less likely to be damaged during their, uh, transport.

“I’m really not the Monkey King,” they try again, though their voice gets muffled by the many, many figures holding them.

The group stops.  There’s a buzz of chatter before one voice cuts out above everything.

“Alright, alright, what’s the haps?  What’s got y’all making me step away from the porty?” The voice has a very casual lilt to it, but it’s recognizable as the same voice of all the other mortals.

“We found the Monkey King!” One of the clones pipes up.

“You what?!”

“We got him, boss!”

“You—okay, okay, lemme see!  Drop him!”

Spirit is dropped onto the ground unceremoniously, and the crowd parts so they can look up to  this supposed leader.

He looks like the rest of the group, but his orange jacket is tied around his waist and his shirt doesn’t have the target on it the rest of them do.  He’s got his pants bunched up at the base of his boots, blue headphones hanging off his neck, and when he glances down at them, Spirit sees a flash of a sharp tooth poking up over his bottom lip.

“Sorry,” they say.  “I’m, uh, not the Monkey King.”

The ringleader groans, leaning his head back.

“Of course you’re not,” he says, though the tone doesn’t indicate that he’s angry at them, which is nice.  He turns to the group standing behind Spirit, and glares.  “C’mon, boys!  I told ya if you saw the Monkey King, you report back to me.  No goin’ after him, no makin’ a fuss.  If this was the real deal, he’d’ve had you poofed quick!  The Boss might not know how to make us go away yet, but the King definitely does.”

He gives a quick, cursory glance over the group.

“We lose anyone?” he asks.

The group shakes their heads.

“Good.  Now, next time, listen to me!” he shouts.  

Spirit flinches at the sound.

The group, thoroughly chastised, all mumble apologies.  The leader sighs.

“Alright, alright.  Half of you keep on look out, and the rest of you go and play.  We got the arcade to ourselves, after all,” he waves them off, and they scatter.

Once they’re gone, he turns to Spirit.  Spirit stiffens and very carefully picks themself up.

“Sorry ‘bout them,” The leader says.  “They’re not the brightest bunch, and any monkey demon is gonna get them excited.  I told them to look out for the Monkey King, not kidnap him, but you spread one brain cell thin enough and things are bound ta’ get lost in translation.

Spirit glances around.  They look to be backstage somewhere.  The hum of pounding bass is muffled, but they can still hear the music.  There are no flashing lights, which is nice.

“Haven’t seen or heard of ya’, though.” The leader speaks up again, drawing back Spirit’s attention.  “What’s your name?”

“Spirit,” Spirit replies.  “And, um, it’s okay.  They weren’t very rough handling me, so it was fine.  

“Um,” They can tell the leader isn’t an original, they can see the tether, but they have to ask.  “You’re, uh, like them, right?”

The leader shrugs.

“If by ‘like them’ you mean a clone?  Sure,” he leans in close toward them.  “But, uh, keep that on the DL, you know?  Don’t want it gettin’ spread around.”

Spirit blinks a few times.  So, clones.  That isn’t surprising.  Macaque can make clones from his shadows, and he told them that Monkey King can make clones out of hair.  The successor must have inherited that power.

The thing that does confuse them, is

“DL?” they ask.

The leader raises a brow.  “The down low?”

“Uh…” Spirit fidgets and glances at their feet. 

The lingo makes no sense.  Is it a new thing?  They’re really bad at keeping up with trends and dialogues.  Their ears burn with embarrassment.  They must look really stupid.

“Just don’t go tellin’ nobody, alright?” The leader clarifies.

Spirit nods.

“Okay!  But, uh, why are you hiding?” It doesn’t seem to make sense.  If the successor made the clones, why do they feel the need to run from him?

“Cuz the Boss made us, made us do a bunch of his dirty work, and I don’t think he’s gonna like that we got tired of it.” The leader glares out toward where Spirit assumes the rest of the arcade is.  “Free will ain’t something clones are supposed to have.  I’m a little more, uh, on the wild side.  The rest of the boys are pretty simple, so I keep ‘em close so they don’t get into trouble.  And hey,” He smiles, all sharp teeth. “Can’t have a porty if you don’t got a roaring crowd.”

Well then.  That certainly changes things.  Spirit has never wondered about the sentience of clones, considering they’ve never interacted with them for long.  Macaque’s shadow clones are more extensions of himself than they are sentient creatures, and they never talk.  But, if clones really do become sentient, it’s a rather cruel thing to strip that sentience away, right?  So long as they aren’t hurting anyone, anyway.

“That’s fair,” they shrug.  “But, um, if you want to really stand out, maybe some new clothes will help?”

“That a fit check?” The leader smirks.

“A what?”

“Nevermind,” The leader waves a hand.  “What you got in mind?”

Spirit tilts their head to the side in thought.

“I think, um...your aesthetic,” they start.  “It doesn’t fit with, uh, the others, so I could get you some new clothes.  Accessories.  As a favor?” They shrug, a bit self conscious.

The leader is pretty confident, and Spirit is decidedly not.  It’s awkward to think that they could be of service.

A blade has a use, but if you have claws that are just as sharp, why buy the tool?

The leader considers this, and then shrugs.

“Sounds good, 3 eyes,” he agrees. 

Spirit blinks.  “It’s Spirit,” they clarify.

“Sure.” The leader shrugs them off.  “Exit’s down the hall to your right.”

Spirit nods and dashes off.  Slipping into human form is easy as a new set of clothes, though they always have to be wary of their tail, wrapping it around their waist like a belt so as not to arise suspicion.

Sure, demons live in this town, but the ratio seems 10:1 and Spirit prefers to blend in.  Besides, if they get mistaken for Monkey King again, they might just scream, if only to startle the crowd so they can get away.

They flit between stores, looking for something fitting for a character like that clone had been.  Spirit isn’t good at fashion, Macaque picked out their outfit after all, but they do have several eyes for flashy things (two, the third isn’t as entranced by such things).  They grab a pair of visor glasses, pink to accent the blue.  They have these weird lines through them, probably to see through.  Spirit thinks they’d be mighty useful to counteract all the bright lights.  

Then they look for something orange to replace the jacket, since it seems to be a fixture on all the other clones.  They find a kind of garish orange tiger print coat.  It’s pretty wild, and, well, the leader said he was pretty wild.  They toss it over their shoulder and head back toward the arcade.

They come in the same back way, because anything to spare themselves the sensory overload of the arcade is worth it, though they feel eyes from all around watching them as they approach the backstage.

Two large bouncers step in front of Spirit, as they approach the backstage, and Spirit nearly trips and falls in their haste to back away.  They’ve never been a fan of looming figures, and even though they’d probably be the same height as the bouncers if they stood up straight, they’re far too used to hunching down to do anything else.

“U-um,” they manage a whisper, clearing their throat before they continue, trying to speak up above the din of the music blaring in the other room.  “I-uh-I-the boss, uh, wanted me to get him some clothes, so…”

They hold up the items they found as proof, giving the two bouncers a shaky smile.

The two share a look, before one walks toward the stage, leaning down for a moment to talk to someone before straightening back up.

“3 eyes!” 

Spirit fights the urge to wince at the nickname, because they don’t like that they only have three eyes, they don’t like the reminder.  Instead, they sigh and smile awkwardly, waving as the leader saunters over.

“Hello,” they show off their pickings.  “I thought these would fit.  Since, uh, neon pink and blue go well together, and, um, I thought this jacket could, uh—”

“It’s way better than the old one!” The leader snatches both items out of Spirit’s hand.

The shades go on his face quick, and he tosses his old jacket so fast it’s a blur as it hits the wall.  He slides the new one onto his shoulders and leans back, hands in his pockets.

“Do I look good?” he asks, then continues without waiting for an answer.  “Nevermind, course I do!  Look at me!”

“I am,” Spirit agrees with a half shrug.

“Nice work, 3 eyes!  The fit fits!” He chuckles, and did his teeth get even sharper in the half an hour or so Spirit has been gone?  They can’t tell.

He plays with the sleeves of the new coat, and glances down at his feet.

“Anyway, uh.” For a moment, he’s almost shy.  “Picked out a name for myself.  Figured keepin’ the old one made no sense and all.”

“Oh?” Spirit keeps their tone carefully neutral, tilting their head to the side.

“Yeah.  Porty.” Porty gives them a wry grin.  “If I say it weird, might as well be my brand, right?”

“Sure?” Brand?  Spirit thought a brand was when you put hot iron on something.  Macaque wanted them to do that to a cow he found, but they couldn’t.  It was too mean.

“Anyway,” Porty’s voice cuts through their confusion.  “I gotta get back to my DJ stand.  Wanna stay for the porty?”

Spirit lets out a nervous laugh.

“Oh, uh, no thank you,” they say, and when Porty frowns, they scramble to explain.  “Not that I don’t, uh, like parties-I—” Well, they’re no good at lying.  “I just have uh, really sensitive eyes and ears.  It would be too loud and bright for me,” Spirit lands on something truthful as they finish, giving Porty a hopeful smile.

Porty’s expression stays carefully neutral, before he bursts into a sharp toothed grin that stretches wide across his face.

“That’s fair, but don’t be a stranger, kay?  Us wild ones gotta stick together!” He nudges their arm.

Spirit thinks Porty is awfully nice and cool, but he talks in ways that make their head spin.

“Got it,” they reply in lieu of asking for clarification, and they disappear out the back door as the music swells again.

They write Porty’s favor into their book just as they start to see the tethers vanish.  One by one, like dying stars flickering out, they disappear.  Spirit watches, wide eyed, as each of over a hundred vanishes.

There's a pit in their stomach, as they think of the giggly, desperate for approval, mostly kind clones suddenly ceasing to exist.  Thinks of the many voices going silent.

Macaque would tell them that clones are a means to an end, a weapon to be discarded after use.  But the successor didn’t discard them after use, he used them and left them, abandoned them.  And now has the audacity to get rid of them when they’re becoming too sentient for his liking?

Spirit doesn’t know the circumstances.  It’s rude to judge a person over things Spirit doesn’t know the full story of.  But they didn’t hate the clones, and Porty, for all his faults, seemed to just want to make a good time for people.  Not the type of good time Spirit would enjoy, but they know others might.

Curled up on the roof of a skyscraper, they watch the lights disappear.  The arcade, a veritable lighthouse of stars, loses its many tethers in an instant.  The mass of light vanishes as if blown away by a gust of wind, until there’s only one left.

The final one, Spirit knows.  

It disappears like the rest.

They break into the arcade that night, and find the coat and glasses on the floor, abandoned.  The arcade is dark and there is broken glass all over the floor, but Spirit steps around it, eyes only for the coat and glasses.  The things they got for him.  To prove that he was more.

Now all that’s left.

They pick the two items up gently and bury them out in the woods.  Maybe Porty wasn’t a real person, maybe he was a means to an end that got out of hand, but Spirit can’t fault anyone who lets them do them a favor.  And besides, sometimes all that’s left of people are memories, and Spirit wants to remember.

They remember Mom, and they know they’re the only one who does.  They can carry that weight for the clones, too, if no one else will.

They get a call from the Long family a month or so after meeting the clone, and isn’t it funny how one of the most affluent, mystically inclined families lives just on the outskirts of the town that Demon Bull King was sealed in?  Spirit wonders if they settled here for that reason, perhaps guarding the staff that the Monkey King left behind, since Monkey King had left it there without any thought.

Spirit doesn’t hate anyone (their father doesn’t count, because they made sure he wasn’t anyone ever, just a memory in Spirit’s mind, forgotten by time as his body burned on its pyre) but they severely dislike the lack of responsibility Monkey King takes.  Not only did he seal away Demon Bull King (Spirit is aware that Demon Bull King was destroying villages and causing a stir, but Monkey King took Red away and what parent wouldn’t be angry?), but he didn’t even stick around to watch over his seal!  He just left it, like the staff alone would be the end-all.  

Spirit would be too anxious to ever leave something that could even possibly be broken.  Maybe they’re paranoid, but they would have at least stuck around, or left a guard, or something!

Honestly, it isn’t surprising that Red managed to break it, eventually.  

They arrive at the Long residence to a sight of a broken down door and demolished artifacts scattered across the entrance hallway.  They blink, three eyes darting around to try and drink everything in.

“Ah, Spirit,” Comes a prim voice.  

Spirit jumps, and turns to find a couple, dressed in green and gold, staring at them.  They’re dolled up, makeup and everything.  Spirit bows, polite.

“Hello,” They greet.  “You’re in need of a favor?”

“Yes,” the woman answers.  “Yesterday, there was an attack on our home by the Demon Bull Family.  Many priceless artifacts were destroyed in the process.  We would like you to salvage as much as you can from the wreck, and clean up the rest.”

So grunt work.  That’s fine.  Typically Spirit is called for that sort of thing, if there are secrets involved.  And when you have priceless artifacts, you don’t want just any random person handling them.  Spirit doesn’t think they’re terribly trustworthy, but if someone asks them to be, they can be.  Keeping their mouth shut is easy because people don’t usually come to them for conversation.

Macaque told them once that they were awfully chatty, but that was when they were younger.  They grew up.  They usually only talk to themselves now.

“Okie doke.” They nod, turning back to the wreckage.

This should take them a few days, if they pull a few all nighters.  They’re pretty bad at sleeping anyway, so at least this time it’ll be on purpose.

They pointedly don’t think about how they told the Demon Bull Family of the artifact that was here.  They pointedly don’t think about how the Demon Bull Family likely attacked this home for said artifact.  What people do with the information they give out is none of their business.  It’s not their fault.

Well.  It is.  Spirit isn’t stupid.  Actions have consequences.  A domino falls and starts a chain reaction.  Regardless of intent, the first domino is the issue.

And Spirit pushed the rest of the pieces down, so the aftermath is their fault.

They start with the biggest pieces of the wreckage, moving out broken stone and whatnot, so that salvaging the finer pieces will be easier.  They’d ask where they’re supposed to move the large pieces of stone, but the two mortals didn’t seem to like them, so they just bring it to the side of the house.  Out of sight for the moment.

They start collecting pieces of broken artifacts, sorting them into different piles for reconstruction later.  They cut their fingers a few times and decide to wrap up their hands in gauze to spare the rest of their fingers from mutilation.

While they’re doing that, someone comes up behind them.

“Hi!”

Spirit jumps a full foot in the air and stumbles to regain their footing, nearly slipping on the dusty tile before steadying.  The gauze not yet secured sticks haphazardly to their sleeves, and they fidget with it as they turn around fully to see who it is that interrupted them.

It looks to be a girl around their age—a little younger, they think.  She’s got the same fine makeup as the two adults who Spirit wagers are her parents, though hers is made less refined in application, instead more youthful and in the form of self expression.  Her green varsity jacket fits in line with her parent’s outfit, green and gold, but the rest of her outfit is a bright white only seen in the marble of the home’s interior.

And then there’s the dragon blade, strapped to her back.  She seems comfortable with it there, which leads them to believe she’s the new wielder.  Which certainly gives her presence weight.  

Spirit lowers themselves to appear non threatening and demure, and they wave, awkwardly, before continuing to affix the gauze to their hands.

“Hello,” they reply. 

“I’m Long Xiaojiao.” The girl bows politely in response.  “But you can call me Mei.”

“Mei,” Spirit repeats, getting used to the word on their tongue, getting over the confusion of someone actually coming up to talk to them when they’re on a job.  “I’m, uh, Spirit.”

“Nice to meet you!” She smiles sunnily up at them.

Spirit stands and fidgets, a little, trying to figure out how to respond.  They don’t know how to interact with people much.  Interacting with Red is easy, they’ve known him for centuries, but with new people, it’s hard.  They’re terribly awkward, and they’re a monkey demon with three eyes.  It isn’t as if they can have conversations with mortals without that becoming a factor.

In fact.

“You know, I haven’t seen a monkey demon before.  Do you know the Monkey King?” she asks.

Spirit winces.  “No,” They respond, quietly.  “He-uh-from what I hear, he’s kind of a recluse, and I don’t interact with many monkey demons,” Spirit shrugs, trying for a smile.

Mei doesn’t seem perturbed by their lack of knowledge, shrugging nonchalantly right back, and Spirit relaxes a fraction.  Like with Pigsy, Mei doesn’t seem to have many expectations on Spirit’s behavior, or requirements of knowledge and or ability.  So far, anyway.

Then again, that could be because they know not to expect anything from Spirit.  Spirit is well known in the demon world to be as worthless as they are useful, and Mei is from a powerful family that Spirit has done favors for before.  The two of them probably knew of Spirit already.  That’s why they’re good at knowing that Spirit knows pretty little.

“Yeah, that’s fair.  My friend MK’s met him, since he’s his successor, but from what I hear from MK, Monkey King doesn’t talk to a lot of people.” She drops the information down in front of Spirit as if it isn’t a bombshell.

Spirit blinks a few times, trying to process the information.  Huh.  So, this girl knows the successor.  Interesting.

“MK?” they ask, curious.

Information is important.  If they perform a favor for Mei, that might get them an in with the successor, which means they’ll have something against the Monkey King and then they can be safe.

“Yup!” Mei whips out her phone, dragon phone case and everything, and shoves the screen up at Spirit, bright light pressing up towards their eyes.

Hand reaching toward their face, reaching digging scraping pain—

Spirit’s back hits the wall.  They don’t remember backing up, just like they don’t remember their breaths picking up, nor do they remember starting to shake.  Eyes wide, they glance around, until they lock eyes with Mei, whose phone is still held up in the air near where their face used to be.

“Oh,” Spirit murmurs, ears rising up from their previously downturned position.  “Sorry.”

Mei drops her arm, brow furrowed in concern.

“I, uh,” Spirit scrambles to explain, because they don’t want her to tell her parents that they’re easily startled, that they’re not good enough, because that could ruin their reputation, that could stop the favor from being kept, it could ruin everything.  “I don’t like.  Things thrown at my face.  Without warning.”

“Oh,” Mei says, softly, gently, glancing at Spirit with something softer and kinder than pity.

“Sorry,” Spirit mutters again, standing up straight.  

They shuffle off, getting back to work at getting the many cracked artifacts off of the ground.  They don’t usually have visceral reactions like that around other people.  The last they can remember is when they were with Red.  He’d waved a hand too close and they’d jumped back.  He didn’t apologize, because Red hates admitting fault, but he did hover over them for a moment, as they regained their bearings.

Mei scuffs her boot on the tile, and then idles over.

“Nah, I get it,” she waves off the apology, though Spirit does question how she could possibly understand when they never told her why.  “Hey, do you have a phone?  I could send you the picture!”

Spirit turns to her, glancing down at the earnest smile on Mei’s face.

“I don’t know if my phone takes photos,” they reply, pulling out the brick of technology out of their pocket.

Mei’s face drops in shock at the sight of it, hands jumping up as if to snatch it from Spirit’s grip. They hand it to her instead, because Spirit can tell she wants to hold it, and Mei looks at it like one would the priceless artifacts shattered around the hall.

“This is...ancient,” she says, delicate, like she doesn’t want to insult them.  “It doesn’t even show emojis!”

“What’s an emoji?” Spirit asks.

Mei drops her face into her hands and groans, before perking back up.

“Can I upgrade it?” she nearly begs, eyes sparkling with excitement.  

Befuddled, Spirit doesn’t immediately agree.  Should they?  They already made Mei upset because they freaked out, it would be rude to deny her something that brings her joy, even if it could come at the expense of Spirit’s phone.

Even more confusing is that, rather than think them stupid for having an inferior product, Mei just wants to fix it up for them.

“Um,” they start, haltingly.  “I like that my phone’s pretty indestructible, and I’ve had it for a while.  Aren’t, um, newer phones more fragile?”

“Not when I make them,” comes Mei’s cheeky reply.  “I’ll even use the materials from this one as a base!  It’ll be the same, just better!  And I’ll be able to send you photos!”

She puts on what Spirit can tell are puppy dog eyes, and Spirit caves instantly.  Mei needn’t use those on them; Spirit knows they’re a pushover.

“Okay,” they acquiesce.

Mei cheers.

“Perfect!  I think I have a charm that will look nice on your phone, too, so I can give you that!” She rocks back and forth on her feet, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

Spirit smiles to themself, setting a collection of pieces on one of the pedestals spared of the destruction.  Tonight, they’ll have to get special glue somewhere to make the cracks nearly unnoticeable.  There’s a demon marketplace a few miles outside of town, so there will probably be some there.

They walk over to the other side of the hall, glancing over at Mei, who follows them.  She fiddles with her phone, and a cursory glance of her screen shows that she’s researching the model of Spirit’s phone for reference.  Huh.  Spirit didn’t know phones could do that.

Their eyes travel from Mei’s phone to the legendary blade on her back.

“You can wield the Jade Dragon Blade?” they ask, aiming for nonchalant and landing on incredulous.  They’re not a good actor.

Instead of puffing out her chest and acting proud, something Spirit would find more characteristic of Mei based on the twenty minutes they’ve spent around her, Mei hunches down a little, looking shy.

“Yeah, I just found out.  It’s, uh, pretty cool.” She shuffles her feet, seemingly reluctant to acknowledge her newfound importance.  “I was never really, uh, what was expected of by my family, so it’s kind of a surprise that I can use it.”

There’s a lot to unpack there, Spirit knows.  High expectations for children of powerful families are to be, well, expected, but it doesn’t mean it’s pleasant.  Spirit doesn’t have to see the tired slump of Mei’s shoulders, with the weight of something wearier than just exhaustion, to know that.  They’ve known it since they saw the fervor and desperation Red worked, the way he swallowed hurt at dismissal.  

It’s a bit sad, they think, that they see it in Mei, too.

“I, uh, I know how to use a bunch of weapons,” They offer off handedly as they continue to work.  “I could teach you some things.  If you want?”

Macaque taught them to use a wide variety of weapons, before they settled on their combat sickles, so they know how to use general blades.  They aren’t a sword master, but they’re sure they could teach Mei the basics.

Mei perks up again.

“Really?  That’d be super helpful.  I think my parents kind of expect me to already know how to use a sword, since I can wield this one, and if I told them I don’t know they’d get me some stuffy tutor or something,” she rolls her eyes at the idea.  

“Once I’m done with this,” Spirit gestures the mess of the entrance hall.  “We could meet up somewhere to start?  Call it a favor.”

Spirit tries not to seem too excited, but opening up a new line of favors with someone is always a fun experience.  A new layer of safety, a new token, even.  If they���re lucky,  Either way, to have Mei’s name in their book would be awful nice.

Mei opens her mouth to accept, but the hard slap of heeled slippers against the marble floors makes them both freeze.

“Xiaojiao,” comes the cold voice of Mei’s mother.  “Spirit is here on a job.  Don’t talk to them.”

“But—”

“Either find someplace else to be or stay in your room.  Now,” Mei’s mother is unrelenting, eyes sharp.

Mei gives Spirit a commiserating smile, and then bounds down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Once she’s gone, Mei’s mother turns on Spirit, a snarl on her face.  Spirit knows the Long family is one of dragons, but maybe they might have forgotten just how protective dragons are of what is theirs.

“Never,” The voice is a hiss, and Spirit hunches down, curling in on themselves.  “Never talk to my daughter.  You keep away from her.”

Spirit trembles, and nods.  They didn’t want any trouble, really!  They just wanted to help.  And Mei owing them a favor means they could interact with her without being as scared as they are, in general.

But, then again, they suppose having a reputation like theirs does work against you.

They work until nightfall, managing to get most of the hard work done.  There’s still the matter of reconstructing artifacts, which means they need special glue.  So they depart late at night to the demon market a few miles out of town.

It’s more a flea market, not exactly as concrete as some of the other shopping centers Spirit has perused.  It’s actually kind of new, popping up because now that the Demon Bull Family is up and running, demons are crawling in droves to get a piece of the new economic boom.

They find a stand a half an hour into their walk that has the type of glue they need.

“Oh, well there’s a familiar face,” The shopkeep says when Spirit steps up to the stall.

Spirit tilts their head to the side, but doesn’t comment.  “I would like that glue, please,” They practiced saying it a few-fifty-times in their head before stepping up, so they would get it right. They point to the jar they want with a small smile on their face, to be pleasant.

“Alright,” The shopkeep, a fox demon by the ears and swishing tail, takes the jar and wraps it gently.

Spirit reaches into their pocket and pulls out their coin purse, but when they do, the shopkeep laughs.

“No, no, your money is no good here,” The shopkeep says.  “Let me return a favor, to you.”

Spirit blinks a few times, but it isn’t a surprise.  People try and return favors all the time, as if they could ask for anything of Spirit and then return the favor on their terms.  Spirit may do anything for a favor, but they don’t let anyone decide when that favor is returned for a reason.

White splattered red, a smile made dull with crimson spilling over lips.  Returning the favor, returning the favor and dying and never coming back and it’s all your fault why didn’t you stop her—

They sigh, stand up straight, and put on the intimidating smile like Macaque taught them to.  Wide eyes but with a glow that is more a promise than an effect, and a grin with just enough teeth to show that it’s sharp.  It feels weird on their face, but it always works.

“No,” They respond, voice ever quiet.  “I’m the one who deals in favors.  I make the terms.  And I want to pay.”

The marketplace has gone silent.  The shopkeep is frozen in place.  Spirit smiles.

“A-Alright,” the shopkeep finally says, rattling off the total.  

Spirit blinks once, letting the glow in their eyes vanish.  Their shoulders fall as they fumble with their coin purse until they pull out the total.  The shopkeep hands them the bag, and Spirit waves cheerily, turning around and heading toward the exit of the market.

The demons in the market give them a wide berth, but Spirit prefers that.  They like their space.

The whole project for the Long family takes a total of three days, two of which are without sleep.  Spirit is used to not sleeping, whether it be from the usual nightmares or a lack of forethought to go to bed, and so they manage.  Being without sleep leaves them jittery and off kilter, but Mei has seemingly taken her mother’s warning to heart, and Spirit is undisturbed as they work.

They like reconstructing the artifacts.  The heads of the Long family tell them that the family can handle the actual reconstruction of the house, which is a relief considering Spirit knows very little about architecture.  Putting artifacts back together is just like putting together a puzzle, and Spirit loves a good puzzle.  Gets their brain working.

Macaque had puzzles, but his were always more...violent.  Spirit prefers these ones, with the artifacts and without danger.

When they’re done, they’re regarded with distaste but not disappointment, which is nice.  Spirit is pretty sure most people they do deals with don’t particularly like them, because no one likes owing people something.  That’s not Spirit’s problem though!  They always allow people to refuse, but people like convenience, and Spirit is malleable, quiet, unobtrusive, and generally willing to be used as any sort of tool.  They’re more an object than a person, on the job, and that’s good!  It means Spirit is good at whatever they need to be.

They almost forget that they’ve given Mei their phone, because they’re leaving the property when she shouts their name.

They jump a full foot in the air, turning around.

“Hey!” Mei comes sprinting across the courtyard, skidding to a stop in front of them.  “You almost forgot your phone!”

She holds it out, and it looks very little like what Spirit expects.  Gone is the black brick of an item, replaced with a wide, reinforced screen.  The case is sturdy, black with purple accents.  Spirit feels the familiar material in the black sections.  

There’s a little purple lotus charm dangling from one corner.

Spirit holds the phone gingerly, almost afraid they might break it.  They tap on the screen, and it glows!  Spirit taps it a few times, but nothing else happens.

“I have no idea how to use this,” they say, looking over at Mei with wide eyes.

Mei laughs, kind and not at all cruel, which is confusing in and of itself.  Spirit half expected her to think them stupid for not knowing.  But Mei directs Spirit to a stone bench by a pond in the gardens, and carefully explains how the touch screen works, and how to get into the different apps, like contacts and messages.

“I put my number in there,” Mei says, pointing out her contact.  “So that way we can text each other!”

“Oh,” Spirit stares, and then smiles, small and shy and pleased.  “That sounds nice.”

How often is it that someone wants to talk to Spirit?   How often is it that Spirit is told how to contact someone for fun?  For something besides work?  They can only recall Red bothering which is somewhat depressing, but it does nothing to stop the swell of elation that makes their hands shake with the desire to move, at the thought of a new friend.

But to flap their hands like that is childish behavior, so they grip their new phone tight instead.

That doesn’t stop their tail from wagging beneath the bench, though.

Once Mei is done teaching them the basics of modern phone technology, she stands, giving them a sheepish grin.

“I should get going.  If mom finds me here with you, she’ll get real cranky, again,” She smiles.  “Text you later?”

Spirit stands, and their shoulders don’t ache so much.  Subconsciously, they feel the wherewithal to stand tall, for the moment, when Mei gives them such a blinding grin.

“Yeah!

They send their first emoji to Red, a little purple heart and the message ‘Red!  I just learned what emojis are!  I hope you like this one!  From, Spirit.’

Red responds with a bunch of flame emojis, and a single red heart back, stuffed between the fires.  It makes Spirit giggle.  Has Red been sending little fires in every text?  It’s certainly on brand, though they feel it might be a little redundant.  Maybe it’s his theme?

They get a text from Mei.

‘Hey!  I got a race a couple of months from now.  Wanna come watch?  Call it a favor ;D!’

Spirit rocks back and forth on their feet excitedly.

‘Mei,

Sounds fun!  See you then :)

From,

Spirit.’

They add a little purple heart emoji to the end of the text, and receive a barrage of green ones in reply.

Spirit smiles.

[vegalocity]

The cliffside duel

More of The Princess Bride AU, This part has a bit more of the casting down because it took me FOR FUCKING EVER to decide on who i was okay with being Vizzini

I settled on the Spider Queen

--

“If the Monkey King were at full power right now, he wouldn't be clinging to the cliffside and attempting to climb.” Her boss chuckled, the gentle click-clack of her spider legs against the stone grated on Xiaojiao's ears. “Stay back here, Ms. Long. If the Great Sage has fallen so low he cannot even summon his cloud nor bound to the top of the cliffside without fear of falling he may be weak enough to be killed.”

Xiaojiao held back a shudder as her boss patted her shoulder and approached the bound prince. “And as for you, highness, try to run and it seems like the only one who will come after you is that simian fool clinging to the stone below.”

“Let him come!” The prince growled, “I have unfinished business with that monkey! Remove these bindings and I'll take care of that bastard FOR you lot-” He seemed to try and summon his flames, but the cuffs on either wrist that restrained him flashed gold and the prince yelped in pain as his own fire magic was blown back onto him.

“Now If I did that you'd certainly run away little calf.” her arachnid boss pet at the prince's head. “And it was such a pain to get you in our custody in the first place, I'm half tempted to demand a raise in pay from your 'betrothed' when we're done dumping your body in a river in his enemy's territory.

Xiaojiao rolled her eyes, and she felt Sandy at her side's exasperation in his tired sounding sigh. The things you do when no one else will hire you...

“Ms. Long? I expect you to not keep us waiting for too long.” The Spider Queen finally huffed before making a vague 'follow me' gesture. “Come along boys, we have quite some ground to cover without that monkey on our backs.”

Sandy looked back at her as he slowly headed for the prince. “Good luck.” he muttered quietly, and Xiaojiao smiled at him with all the confidence she could muster.

“Thanks.” It was just the Monkey King after all, just the trickster stone monkey who caused havoc in heaven and turned the whole court upside down. Just the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. No big deal no big deal.

Sandy hefted the immobile prince over his shoulder as he followed behind the Spider Queen, and Xiaojiao was alone with him.

There was some time of quiet, interrupted only when Xiaojiao herself grew bored and took out the Jade Sword to get a little practice in.

But eventually that grew boring as well and she peered over the side of the cliff again.

The Monkey King had barely moved from where he'd narrowly escaped falling into the water below.

“You doing okay, Monkey King?” it would be so disappointing if such an impressive figure were to die by something so simple as falling from the cliffside and drowning...

“I'm fine.”

“I only ask because when you get to the top I have to try and kill you!” And honestly the idea was becoming less and less appealing the further away her supposed boss was getting.

“That does spoil things a bit...” The Monkey King fired back, shaking his covered head, dark furred tail curling around his own leg.

Wait... Didn't the Monkey King have golden fur? Eh whatever, people probably just made that up so he'd sound more impressive in the stories.

“I can throw the rest of the rope down and help you up!” Honestly at this point she'd just rather get on with it.

“I can't exactly trust you wouldn't just drop me the second I put any weight on the rope.”

“I promise I will NOT try to kill you until you reach the top~” She singsonged, the Monkey King looked up and made a face at her.

“Very comforting. Sorry guess you'll just have to wait.” He shifted his position a bit before crawling a magnificent inch higher than he was a moment ago.

It would be HOURS before he was done. By then The Spider Queen would already have the prince in position and she'd make SANDY kill him. And that wouldn't be good at all. Sandy would cry and that was not allowed to happen.

“I can't afford to wait...I can give you my word as a dragon?”

“I beat up... like all the dragon lords in my prime, can't trust that.” Damn...

“Is there ANYTHING I can promise by to make you trust I'm being sincere?” She HAD to catch up with them. Now that that idea was in her head it wasn't getting out, and her protective friend instincts were overriding what little patience Xiaojiao had left.

“Don't think so, no.” The Monkey King answered unhelpfully. Then an idea hit her.

“On the soul of my father, Patriarch Long, you will make it to the top of this cliff alive.”

The Monkey King closed his eyes and sighed, his forehead hitting the rock. “Throw me the rope.” Xiaojiao chirped in delight as she quickly unspooled enough of the rope to lower down while still leaving enough anchored by the rock to keep the Monkey King from falling to his watery grave.

She even gave the rope a few extra pulls as the Monkey King began to ascend, to give him that extra push, and soon enough her future opponent was on even ground beside her.

He huffed and puffed with an exertion she wouldn't have expected of someone with such a fine and long track record of... physical activities involving hacking and slashing and jabbing and crushing and-

The monkey sneezed and a cloud of dust came off of him before he muttered a small 'thank you' and began to take his staff from off of his back-wait didn't he hide it in his ear or something?

“Wait, hold on. You're out of breath and exhausted, that's not a fair fight. Catch your breath THEN we can fight.”

“...Well, thank you again.” The Monkey King sat a few paces away from her on a large boulder and began to take off one of his shoes to clean it of sand and stone, and Xiaojiao was able to take in his appearance a little better.

Unlike the stories the Great Sage Equal to Heaven wasn't wearing armor or warpaint, or carrying around flags with his title emblazoned onto them. He was wearing a simple lithe outfit, made for speed and stealth, had a black headscarf and equally black mask obscuring most of his face.

She could see he only had the one set of ears, and the timeline wouldn't have matched up anyway... still, She wondered-

“Do you happen to know any macaques with an... unusual amount of ears?”

The Monkey King's expression flattened as he looked up at her. “Do you always start your death matches like this?”

“Sorry to pry just...” If it got any information... “My father was killed by a six eared macaque.” She'd been so barren of any leads for years now, she'd been on the verge of despair when the Spider Queen had offered her work, if the Monkey King knew who she was talking about-

“I'm... sorry to hear that. I remember talk of a six eared macaque but I don't remember ever meeting them.” Damn...

“Oh...” Well now the Monkey King was looking at her in pity and that wasn't allowed whatsoever. “It's fine. I promised justice for my father, and I can't leave any stone un-turned.”

“You're a loyal daughter, Miss....?”

“Long Xiaojiao. And you're the Monkey King, yes?”

“My reputation proceeds me.” the Monkey King confirmed with a small shrug. “Tell me about this macaque, when you lose I'll keep an eye out for him.” There was a teasing lit in his voice, it... made him sound younger than such an immortal being should. He sounded close to her age when he spoke like that.

“Well when you lose I'll appreciate being allowed to tell someone about it I suppose.” She teased back. The Monkey King grinned crookedly at her.

“I was just a girl at the time, I had only barely begun to brush with adolescence when the Six Eared Macaque came to our family's door. He seemed so humble, he spoke only with the greatest respect. He told us that he was a former criminal, but his life was spared by a Bodhisattva on the condition that he convert and learn from all manner of creatures. That he'd already studied under the fish and the foxes and he'd like to learn the ways of the dragons next.

“My father had trusted him and he'd taken him on as an apprentice... But he was a liar. Once he'd learned enough from us he'd stolen my father's power over the river we resided in right from under him and slaughtered him to assert his newfound ability. I'd tried to avenge my father right then.” She took out the jade sword. “The sword has been in our family for generations, but when I first wielded it that day I was only barely able to lift the point off the ground. The macaque just laughed at me.” The Monkey King was listening with rapt attention, and though this part was a little embarrassing to recount, she felt like the story would be incomplete without it.

“Gave me this to remember him by and banished me from my own river.” she pulled down the collar of her shirt a bit to reveal a scar on her left shoulder. “By the time I was trained and ready to face the macaque he'd grown bored of my home and had long left, so I plan on finding him. And when I do... Oh do I have everything planned.”

She looked at the Monkey King and this time held his gaze, her chest puffed up and her shoulders squared. “I will say to him: 'Hello, my name is Long Xiaojiao. You killed my father. Prepare to die.'”

The Monkey King looked suitably impressed now. Not a trace of the pity left in what little she could see of his face. “You know my old master would say something about how revenge doesn't help anything and brings naught but misery or something, but I left that useless bag of sutras behind ages ago, so good on you Miss Long. Should I decide to spare your life by the end of this I believe you will get your revenge.”

She smiled back at him. “You seem a decent fellow, I'd hate to kill you.”

“You seem a decent fellow, I'd hate to die.” But then they were out of things to talk about. Xiaojiao lifted her sword up again, and the Monkey King drew his staff.

[afoxysunny]

Jives as High Duke

So Jives gets a second pick and oh my G did i struggle with choosing this one. In the end I'm pretty happy with the decision to give him the Monkey Miraculous

The whole story for how he ended up with having to pick a second time is already on the post about Stingy, who gets the Turtle from Jives, so I'll try not to repeat myself too much

So here are the references for this design

This design came out a lot simpler than it probably should be considering that it's based on the Chinese Monkey King but Jives isn't one for overly flashy and elaborate costumes in my opinion

Also, yes, again, his eyey should be blue but making colour changes to coloured pencil drawings is really hard, I'm sorry

Again, i just did what felt natural to me and in no time this was the outcome. Conclusion: drawing Jives comes very natural to me and i appreciate him for that

Design Notes:

Chest Pattern - i wanted to make the chest pattern here resemble the one he had as Grinder Turtle, this was also a big factor that sold me on giving him this Miraculous. I just think it looks really cool and it connects the two designs in a vague sense

Beanie - my boy Jives always wears some sort of hat, this is no exception. The Monkey Miraculous is a Crown and here it blends in so it now replaces the brim section of the beanie. On second thought it might be a little basic to choose a beanie but it just really suits him, i couldn't think of a better fit. Especially because it goes along really well with the headshape of the monkey i based him on

Toque Macaque - I'll be real with you, I'm not a huge fan of monkeys which makes them one of the few animal species i don't love and also makes the biggest reason i wasn't immediately happy to give my dear Jives this Miraculous xD I'm shallow i know. Anyways. I may not know a lot about monkeys but i knew enough to pick this macaque because the colours go well enough with the Monkey Kwami Xuppu and i liked the markings it has. [coicidentally this specific kind, the Toque Macaque, happens to share its natural habitat with the peacock ;)]

Tail - on his back you see how the rope detailing from his chest and pants combine into the belt and eventually the tail. I wanted the markings to kind of resemble a harness for climbing, i don't think it comes across too well though

Hair - the little bit you can still see of his actual hair coincidentally blends in almost seamlessly with the colour of his costume, that wasn't planned but i like it a lot

Reasoning:

At the point in time where i made the decision that Stingy would take the Turtle Miraculous from Jives i already had most Miraculous assigned to most other characters, in fact i was only really missing one for Ziggy. So spoiler alert i guess for him. I fudged around for a while between the Mouse and the Monkey, both would've worked well with either but in the end settled on the Monkey for Jives for multiple stupid timy reasons. For example the chest pattern i already mentioned, my ship-trash side going "a monkey and a peacock fit together way better aesthetically than a mouse and a peacock would", he and Xuppu would have a funny bro dynamic together etc.

Story:

I already explained why and how Jives loses the Turtle Miraculous to Stingy in my post about the latter so I'll just give a short summary here before moving on

As per usual Jives didn't eat much throughout the day and ends up fainting. This time it's a much bigger deal though. Usually he doesn't actually fully faint, just sway a little, maybe collapse but for the most parts he stays conscious just really weakened. That day the team of new heroes is fighting an important battle when he full on passes out in the middle of it. Luckily Stingy is able to step in to build their defense up again.

Obviously, instead of saying "i eat as little as possible because i have a problem" Jives just shrugs it off and goes "guess i didn't eat enough again, my bad guys, sorry" and thinks it'll be fine. He didn't expect Álfurildi, aka Sportacus, to take this very literal and announce that he planned on having them eat in his airship as a whole group anyway gor team moral and to make sure they're all healthy enough to actually handle a Miraculous. They deduce that must have been the reason Jives full on fainted this time, while going by his usual life he obviously didn't need as much energy as he now needs to be a superhero so the simple solution is to just eat more.

He makes excuses to not eat with the others as often as he can but one day he'd have to actively leave the others to do so as he already is in the airship with them when they start preparing to serve the next meal. That day he actually snaps at Sportacus that he just doesn't want to eat. Unfortunately, thanks to being such a gentle soul and also sensing Jives frustration and hunger Sportacus tries to comfort Jives with the worst thing he could've said. "heroes gotta eat well, so you can become big and strong" to which Jives absolutely loses it. He snaps at him "I'm already too big without eating anything, can't you just leave me alone!" and just jumps out of the airship. By now he already has Xuppu as his new partner so of cause he makes it down unharmed to run off into the forest. Sportacus wants to follow him but Robbie stops him. Robbie, who so far was pretty quiet and reclusive when the teens came to visit, says he will go find and talk to him taking Pixel with him as he is his best friend after all.

I'll spare you the unnecessarily details i cane up with and just say this is the moment Robbie gets to explain how the powers i gave him work and we get to see that he does really deeply care but just can't really express it. They find Jives and thanks to Robbie being able to relate to him about some of his insecurities and Pixel being a great friend he ends up confessing to them about his eating disorder. He never wanted to be the odd one out but never managed to fit in with the others. It's hard to hide you're different when you're towering over your peers so he figured if he just stopped eating he'd stop growing and though it had no positive effect on him he just couldn't stop doing it even after realizing how bad it had gotten.

Going back to the airship together once the situation calmed down a bit and with Jives' permission they let Sportacus in on this secret. As Robbie figured, the local health expert knows exactly what foods wouldn't upset such an empty stomach too badly and they start the process of finding a few good things for Jives to eat so he doesn't break down again.

Name:

Quick, something more lighthearted

When Jives gets his second pick for a Miraculous his eyes fall on the little Monkey, Xuppu. The two pretty quickly get along thanks to Xuppu being a jokester and Jives liking how bro-like they can talk and poke fun at each other. This turns out to be a great pick as this Kwami of Jubilation not only like shouting random noises around just like Jives but is also sassy and straightforward enough to remind him to eat every once in a while by poking fun at him using something Pixel once said to him "I'll not let you eat less than the Kwamis" (yes this part should've technically been in the reasoning section but you kinda need the context of the story for it so i put it here)

So Trixie explains that Xuppu's transformation and powers are based on the Chinese Monkey King (she knows that from the Guardians) but Jives really isn't one for flashy costumes and important titles so not only is his costume more basic than it probably should be but also he wamts to name himself "Duke". Stingy immediately objects "A duke is about as royal as a prince! You're completely underselling this concept. You have to trade with me! You get yoir turtle back. Let me be King!" Xuppu and Wayzz look at each other and roll their eyes, Xuppu then steps floats forward to say "well, he's not entirely wrong. Wouldn't you like to pick something higher?" so Jives chuckles and goes "High Duke". Again Stingy is outraged by this disrespect "that's ridiculous!" but Xuppu laughs and says "no, i like his style! Let's do this!" and so their new duo is established

Look, don't judge me, everyone headcanons Jives with growing not all legal things in his garden so now that he's actually a teen in my au I'm keeping it xD

Thank you so so much for reading so much of my rambling. You're so cool for taking the time to read this!

[quitealotofsodapop]

Been thinking of the Stone Egg Au, specifically the Slow Boiled one, and wondering how the hell Guanyin would not have known about Stone Monkey incubation since she's literally a goddess of childbirth. Then ot hit me... what if Guanyin did know but didn't know Wukong was a Stone Monkey!?

Think about it. Her only experience with Wukong before he got a mountain dropped on his head were rumors and complaints of a Monkey demon wrecking her sister's party. The Heavenly Court most certainly did not know Wukong was one of the rarest and most powerful celestial species in existence (I just remembered the Stone Monkeys all have the title of Celestial Primates too, meaning Wukong technically isn't even a demon lol), otherwise they probably wouldn't have made him a Biwawen. That'd be like finding the Loch Ness Monster and treating Nessie like a common anole. Utterly ridiculous.

And while Guanyin can sense the youthful teenage soul in Wukong, that doesn't necessarily mean she'd have knowledge of his species, and Stone Monkeys look an awful lot like bigger Macaque Monkey Demons. And Guanyin would have no reason to look deeper than that because Stone Monkeys are thought to be extinct by then. So it's actually really believable she didnt know about the pregnancy because she thought that he's just a regular monkey demon be aysevshe only met him after the fact and only had what other said to go off of.

And most of the others just don't have a clue what Wukong is.

Guanyin and the rest of Heaven just assumed Wukong was a funky little macaque-monkey demon. Whats more is that the Bodhisattva (atleast this incarnation) was born long after the species was assumed extinct across the solar system.

Gold Star of Venus probably had his suspicions when he very briefly saw either Wukong and/or Macaque (he would have immediately clocked Mac as a Stone Monkey *if* the shadow monkey hadn't been hiding his ears with glamour) in the Jade Palace, but its like pointing at a weird bird and saying its a T-Rex - you want all the facts first. And The Celestial Primate stuff is Buddha-classified knowledge it seems.

Alternatively, Guanyin *sensed* a life forming within Wukong when they finally met under the mountain, and she had a brief moment of relief thinking; "Oh thank buddha, I managed to spare an expectant parent from Heavens wrath." - cus she really doesn't have a timeframe for when the "conception" of the Egg occurred. Or if the Buddha and/or Gold Star told them about Stone Eggs later on, Guanyin had no idea that the Buddha's punishment would help begin the Stone Egg-creation process - they'd feel mega-guilty for it.

Or maybe she thought Wukong and Mac did conjugal visits before they broke up who knows XD

[chaozsilhouette]

Turbulent Beginnings

This forms the opening act to Macaque’s story, showing just how different his and Wukong’s early lives were and why he took Wukong’s disappearance so hard.

The idea Macaque was born from the wind was inspired by @animemoonprincess. And yes, I am a shameless fan of Macaque originally having white fur. The angst is just too perfect.

Brace yourselves, this isn’t going to be pretty. I am essentially shoving our boy through an emotional meat grinder.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On a remote island, a day’s travel from China’s eastern shore, a massive hurricane raged as it had since the beginning of this world. The surrounding storms fed into it as its winds carved stone. No life had dared blossom on its soil out of fear of a painful demise. The merciless storm drank deeply of the waters of the sea, draining all aspects of potential and life before casting it aside. Not even curious spirits were spared.

Various deities had wondered why such a storm existed or why the Jade Emperor allowed such a dangerous presence to continue unchecked. Most believed that since the hurricane was stationary and prove no threat to the established order of the world, it was not important.

One day the hurricane vanished. As though it had never existed. Or rather that it had been transformed into something else.

It was the night of a new moon and with the hurricane gone, the island experienced its first cloudless sky. The only one to witness the momentous occasion was a monkie with pure white fur and six ears. Minding his manners, the nameless monkie bowed to the four winds in greeting.

The newborn proceeded to spend his days searching the island for something. Some clue as to the reason behind his birth. He could hear strange voices and words he didn’t understand yet at the same time could. He knew he wasn’t the only creature alive, so why was he alone?

For food, he walked his way through a cave system towards the sea, where he enjoyed the fish that were drawn in through the whirlpools and the mussels that clung to the sharp rocks. He grew to savor the taste of life, even though there was a part of him that craved something different.

Almost forty years passed before he mustered the courage to leave everything he knew to seek out those voices. He gathered all the driftwood and rope that had drifted onshore over the decades, fashioned it into a makeshift raft, and sailed towards the closest source of voices.

His voyage was actually pretty boring once he cleared the whirlpools.

The only exciting part about it was when that strange fish tried to sink his raft. It was bigger than any fish he’d previously seen with a mouth to match. Didn’t mean it survived past the first blow. Taking a bite Macaque wasn’t sure if he liked this fish. The muscles were tough and the flesh was rough on his tongue. He didn’t particularly like the taste. But there was enough to feed him for a full day.

In the end, he chose to eat a third of the fish’s muscles along with its heart before tossing back into the water.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Docking on dry land was an experience that would haunt him for years.

At first, he was filled with wonder at the sight of buildings and new creatures riding rafts far bigger than his.

When he stepped onto shore the whispers began.

The creatures, who he later learned were called humans, were pointing out his ears. They acknowledged his obvious intelligence. He heard them grip wooden instruments tightly. It was as if they expected him to do something.

No one made a move against him. No one approached him, but he could tell he wasn’t wanted. Everywhere he turned he saw eyes that cursed his every existence.

He didn’t stay in that village for long. In his mind, satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth being stared at as though he was the source of all evil.

Demon.

That is what they called him. Was that what he was?

He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He aimlessly wandered the countryside for far too long.

The first act of kindness he received was from a couple who could not have children of their own. He stumbled upon them by accident, but instead of the normal fearful expressions he’d come to expect they greeted him with genuine smiles and an offer to join them for dinner.

They took him in and treated him like family. He became the son they always wanted. They taught him how to properly speak and how to walk comfortably on two limbs. They blessed him with a name.

They were kind and nurturing. In another world, they may have been called bodhisattvas. But sadly, due to them being ordinary mortals, his time with them only lasted four decades.

He buried them with love but grew resentful of his weak emotions.

He learned what it was like to have someone welcome him home after a long day. He learned to savor the taste of a mother’s home-cooked meal. He enjoyed having a father figure who was willing to teach him old military tactics. He experienced friendly competitions to see who could paint the most accurate portrait of a flower they saw earlier that day. It was everything he never knew he craved and then it was gone. Leaving him with an empty home and a broken heart.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Nearly fifty years later he joined a band of traveling performers.

Their natural oddities allowed them to see who he really was and welcome him into their party. With their compassion, he was granted the opportunity to heal. He learned that despite the group’s large size, very few of them had any direct blood relations. What made them special was how they created their own family and turned what many called strange into something beautiful. Out of respect, he delved into the world of entertainment, found he had a natural talent for it.

When he took the stage people assumed he was in costume, but that didn’t matter. The applause of the audience was a gift he cherished. The sheer passion this family expressed through every second in life warmed his heart beyond words. They were just what he needed to bring him out of his depression.

Alas, it was not meant to stay.

One night their camp was ambushed by a group of demons. They were nothing special, hardly worth mentioning. But for him, back then, it was a fight he never imagined. He could easily handle human bandits, so could his family, but never had he traded blows with a small army of his fellow demons. With the rising of the sun, Macaque stared at the cruelly bright sky covered in blood. All around him bodies lay scattered, life essence soaking into the ground. Despite being tasked with fighting off nearly five dozen demonic opponents he managed to survive with barely a scratch, but he was alone. Again.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tried to change things by sticking to his fellow demons. At least they lived longer.

Somehow that ended up with him becoming the apprentice to a demon healer for almost a century. She was a cold-hearted bitch with a heart of gold. Meticulous in her work, masterful in deduction, and short-tempered with the foolish. She gave everything to her practice and expected the same from him. It was bitter work, but he found it fulfilling. The knowledge that he now possessed the ability to restore others to peak condition settled some unknown part of his soul.

Of course, they would have visitors who wished to take advantage of her skills or steal the medicine. Between the two of them, they protected their clinic, but they weren’t always together. While she may try to hide it, she wasn’t the strongest demon out there. Apparently, the entire reason she got into medicine was to uncover why she was so weak. Centuries of research turned up nothing, but it did make her incredibly skilled at using poisons with her knives to compensate.

One day after he returned from gathering ingredients, he pulled back the door to find the shop in disarray, five unknown bodies slowly dying of extensive blood poisoning, and his master bleeding out from her severed arms. She always said she had no intention of entering Naraka alone.

Guess she kept her word.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The cycle repeated itself over centuries. He would experience a brief window of happiness only for it to be savagely stolen from him, leaving him to mourn and curse his weak heart.

The small glimmers of kindness humanity showed him only made him curse their race even harder when he couldn’t walk into a village without being harassed. The humans who had proven stronger were sadly a rare breed. He was rare to encounter one a century and often they perished at the hands of their kind rather than by demons.

There were times when the ignorance had gotten so bad he’d taken to traveling with a constant glamour, disguising himself as an average human. Whenever he was in the presence of other demons, he allowed his true form to manifest, however, he made it look like he only had a single pair of ears. Standing out was the easiest way to wind up in a complicated situation he had no interest in trying to defuse.

That’s not to say his time was wasted.

Quite the contrary, he had learned much during his travels. He could hardly be compared to the happy young monkie, who was ignorant of the dangers and hardships this world held. In a sad attempt to fill the void, Macaque sought out wisdom and strength. He located masters of both the mystic and martial arts. He may have had to lie about his age, he was becoming quite the accomplished liar, but the results were more than worth it. With every stop, he found himself growing more certain of his strength and his identity.

Eventually, he discovered a strange monastery hidden in a cave in the face of a mountain.

He had never seen anything like it during his travels. But what truly drew his attention was the feeling the temple exuded, every stone exuded a strange aurora. Something powerful dwelled within, powerful yet there was an undeniably human quality to it all.

Hiding beneath his usual glamor, Macaque approached the temple with the desire to discover exactly what was being taught. Before he knew what was happening, he was speaking to the immortal sage who was running the joint. Master Subhuti welcomed him to his home and offered some tea. The disguised monkie was bombarded by dozens of questions, all of which he attempted to answer as though he was a normal human.

The master welcomed him as his newest disciple and showed him his new home. Later he learned the master could see through his disguise and sensed his potential. Apparently, the old immortal believed that the monkie would do well to learn his disciplines and he was fascinated by the monkie’s natural talent.Said something about how with proper guidance only the Buddha would be able to peer past his façade.

The monkie even received a new name to celebrate his rebirth. From that day forward he was Liu’Er Mihou, or the Six-Eared Macaque. He liked it. While he cherished the name his first family gifted him, he felt this was a good sign. A tribute to show that he was a changed monkie.

Regardless, he refused to drop his glamor. He had seen too many demons be cast out and attacked for getting sloppy. The other students were not thrilled about the newcomer showing them up and he wasn’t willing to give them a true reason to despise him. He learned quickly, more so than any other human disciple, but that put him at odds with those who were still struggling after years of training.

Macaque distanced himself from the others. They weren’t that interesting anyway. He didn’t care that they talked about him behind his back or were fully aware he could hear them. He couldn’t risk getting close so soon. He was determined to break the cycle. He didn’t care about immortality. He didn’t care about obtaining power. All he wanted was to end the pain. So far things had been working out in his favor.

Then heshowed up…

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

That trice damned monkie with peach-colored fur and markings like a golden mask. He was so naïve about the world. He treated everything as though it was some exciting game. His upbeat energy made Macaque sick. Some twisted part of him wanted to snap his neck just to end it, but a small part was fascinated by it. The other monkie reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten.

The Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, didn’t bother hiding his true appearance. Truthfully, Macaque wasn’t sure he knew how or that he should. He didn’t seem to notice how other students would keep their distance or how they kept their conversations as brief as possible without crossing the threshold into being considered rude.

He was so earnest and happy, it was painful. The new monkie pestered everyone about everything, it was like dealing with a newborn, but it seemed Macaque was his favorite to bother. The worst part was how he stared at Macaque as though he could peer past his glamour. Although Macaque wasn’t sure if that was truly possible. The Master could, but he dedicated centuries to refine his skills. Wait. How old was this annoyance? Perhaps he could smell he wasn’t like the other disciples.

Either way, he knew it was just a matter of time until the truth got out. He just didn’t expect it to be when he was changing.

Each student was offered a meager room for privacy. They were all the same size and offered little to no space for any customization, but the walls were enchanted to cut out sound whenever the doors were closed.

Behind those flimsy walls was the only time Macaque allowed his glamor to drop. While he valued being cautious, even he couldn’t keep up the glamour indefinitely, much less when he was asleep.

It was in that small space of safety that he discovered he wasn’t alone.

He had just allowed himself to relax when a smiling face covered in peach fuzz was shoved into his own.

“I knew it! You’re like me.” Sun Wukong happily exclaimed, stars practically dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up.” Macaque clamped his hand over the other’s mouth. Checking to ensure no one else was present and the door was shut, he faced the intruder. “Have you told anyone?” He hissed, while berating himself for failing to check the ceiling. You always look up when scanning a room, he knew that.

“Nope. Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” The cheerful demon spoke as though they were old friends. His golden eyes took in every hair of his fellow monkie’s true appearance.

“I’m a demon. And there is nothing beautiful about me.” Macaque growled.

“Yes, there is.” Wukong insisted. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding? The Master let me in, I wager he knows about you, so why?”

Sighing, Macaque massaged the bridge of his nose. “I have been hurt enough times to know keeping a low profile is optimal in survival. It is better to keep one’s head down than risk getting called out.” From observation, he knew the newer student wouldn’t leave until he received answers, so the best option was to just give him what he wanted and pray he knew enough to leave.

“That’s no fun.” Wukong stuck his tongue out in distaste. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. We were born this way.” He jumped high into the air only to catch himself on his tail with a cheeky grin. “So, they’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Cute speech. But my answer is no. Now leave.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix that attitude right up.” Thankfully Wukong left, but not before sending a smile laced with mischief his way. “See you tomorrow.”

Macaque prayed to every deity that would be the end of it. But even he knew it was a futile attempt.

“Do you have a tribe?” Wukong asked, hanging by his tail from Macaque’s favorite tree.

A startled Macaque blinked at the random question. “A what?”

“A tribe. A family. A place to call home?” Wukong asked smoothly even if he wasn’t familiar with the term family until recently he knew it was important.

“Not anymore.” Glaring Macaque returned his focus to his meal.

“Aw.” Wukong knew that look. He had seen plenty of monkeys wear that arura after watching other tribe members die. “Then you should come with me!”

“What?”

“Yeah. You can join my tribe. There are dozens of us back home. Plenty of food and water, you’ll constantly be surrounded by others like us.”

“Other demons?”

“No.” Wukong smiled as though he told a funny joke. “Other monkeys.”

“There is no reason for me to join you.” Macaque stated, wishing he could finish his lunch in peace.

But Wukong wasn’t letting him go that easily. “And there’s no reason for you to refuse.” He stated, ignoring any and all social cues or common sense for respecting personal space.

It went on like that for years. Every day Macaque would awake to find gold eyes staring at him, waiting for his answer to change. Breaks were spent dodging the hyperactive monkie as he tried to eat alone. Training sessions soon found him sparring with the same partner.

The monkie was stubborn no doubt and Macaque feared his actions were slowly breaking down his walls. The pale furred monkie missed having a connection. He adored being able to talk to others, but whenever he opened up he only got hurt.

But maybe, maybe this time could be different…

Wukong was training to obtain immortality. He had already proven to be stronger and more clever than anyone he’d known. The simian showed that he wanted to know him better. He constantly tried to touch his fur, something he called grooming, which felt pretty nice.

Maybe…maybe this time he could truly have a home.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

A streak of light accompanied by a sharp whistle pierced the night sky. For a brief moment, it vanished before exploding in a beautiful display of color and light.

On the monastery’s rooftop, Wukong backflipped in joy at the sight, his golden eyes wide. “Happy New Year!” The monkie cried. In the village below, he could make out dozens of voices echoing the greeting.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, fireworks were a sight he always adored. “This has got to be mankind’s greatest invention!” The flowers of fire were simply too beautiful. So unique. Nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain compared to such beauty, it made him thankful he decided to leave.

From the corner of his eye, Wukong noticed that his companion was clutched his ears wincing with every detonation. “You okay, bud?”

“I’m fine. Just loud.” Macaque said. He was truly questioning his sanity by joining Wukong on the roof. Normally he barricaded himself in his room, but his friend was so thrilled about sharing their first New Year together he couldn’t say no.

“Oh.” Somehow the new set of fireworks didn’t look that attractive. “We can go inside if you want.” They were beautiful, but nothing was worth feeling helpless as his friend curled up in pain.

“I’ll be fine. I’m adjusting to the volume. No different than punches that break the sound barrier, right?” Macaque tried flashing a confident grin to varying success.

Wukong suspected that Macaque was lying, but learned enough to know further prying would just cause the other monkie to simply shut out the world. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

“You made a persuasive argument.” Anyone who could harass him for nearly five years straight proved their determination.

Wukong playfully stuck his tongue out. “Hehe…Seriously though, I’m happy you chose to be part of my tribe. No one should be alone.”

“Then why have I been for so long.”

“I doubt even Master knows. But you won’t be able to say that anymore.” Wukong wrapped his arms around his best friend. Pulling him close, Wukong faced the fireworks, unconsciously grooming Macaque as he savored every pop of color.

Beneath those gentle digits, Macaque steadied himself against the soothing heartbeat of the one he slowly learned to trust. As the display continued, the pale monkie learned to appreciate the human’s creations. Turns out they weren’t so bad so long as you have the right company.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

“I’m sorry. You’re what?!” Macaque’s response was perfectly justified. There was no way he just heard what he thought he heard.

Wukong flashed a blinding grin. “I’m heading to the Celestial realm. I’ve been given a position in Celestial Bureaucracy.” Not seeing any problems whatsoever.

“Why?” Just why? From everything he heard about those stuck-up deities, they would never hand over a position to anyone without requiring the completion of an impossible task, much less to a demon. Least of all a demon who has done nothing but terrorize others and unleash chaos whenever he went.

“Don’t know. But I got to go right now.” Wukong shrugged as he finished packing. The Gold Star of Venus was waiting just outside the waterfall.

“But what about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? What am I supposed to do? How long are you going to be gone?” Macaque fired off a rapid stream of questions. Panic was beginning to take hold.

Wukong, however, was as calm and confident as ever. “Stop worrying so much. Look I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then you’re in charge.” He finished as though it was obvious.

“Me!” A white tail nearly burst into twice its normal size in shock. “But I have no idea how to run a Court!”

“Neither do I. Not in the traditional sense at least. Look just keep an eye on things. Protect the monkeys from hunters and malicious demons. Sometimes one of the allied demon kings will ask for some help. It’s nothing you haven’t helped me with before. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things until I get back.”

Seeing his companion and good friend growing even more lost, Wukong closed the distance and took his face in both hands. “This is a good thing. If I can make this work, none of us will ever have to worry about being hunted or not having enough food ever again.”

In a snap, Macaque grabbed the king’s arms. “What if I don’t care about any of that? What if I just want you to stay?”

For the first time in their conversation, Wukong’s cocky attitude vanished replaced with a loving smile. Gently prying Macaque’s claws off his shirt, Wukong placed his cheek on a palm as he kissed the knuckles of another. “I can’t. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll keep in touch. The time will fly. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”

“Alright, Wukong. I trust you.” Macaque said, ignoring every fiber of his being that screamed this would end poorly.

“If things go wrong, remember I’m just a telepathic call away.” Summoning his cloud, Wukong back flipped onto it with his bag. “Monkey King, out!”

One sonic boom later and he was gone, along with a good chunk of the cave walls.

“Hpmh. That’s my idiot.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

How did this happen? How did this happen?!

One moment they were fighting for their lives against the army of the Celestial Realm and the next Macaque bore witness to Wukong being carted away in a diamond snare.

Now as he stared at the charred remains of what once was a growing village of monkeys, Macaque felt something within him change.

For almost two months he had burned in celestial fires. The sounds of the dead and dying rang out, making his namesake almost bleed. He choked on the ashes of the mortal monkeys. The air had a strangely sweet and bitter taste to it.

Macaque lost count of all the times he charged back into the fires to save as many heartbeats as he could. He wasn’t sure but he suspected he blacked out more than once. With every heartbeat that stilled before he could reach them, a part of him followed them into Yama’s realm.

Finally, the fires had died down. They didn’t have anything left to burn.

All around him he saw the pitiful leftovers of what was once a thriving community. He had treated the survivors the best he could, but he lost his medical equipment in the blaze. The only ones he didn’t have to worry about were the monkeys Wukong made immortal, but he did what he could to ease the pain.

But still, he wondered why…why were they staring at him as though they were confused?

Maybe he was overthinking everything. He just worked through 49 days without any sleep. Everything was stable for now. The best course of action was to wash off the ash and get some much-deserved rest.

There was nothing the Celestial Realm could do to Wukong that he couldn’t handle. Besides Macaque didn’t even know how to get there even if he was at full strength. Wukong couldn’t die so it was only a matter of time before someone tripped up allowing him to return home.

He just had to be patient.

Stepping into the clear river, Macaque’s jaw almost dropped as the water around him immediately turned gray. He didn’t realize he was that filthy.

He started scrubbing himself, ducking under the water to ensure he didn’t miss a spot. He had to move a few times due to the sheer amount of shoot and ash that clung to him. The entire cleaning process took a full hour before the water ran clear.

Stepping out, Macaque felt more refreshed than he ever remembered. Shaking to remove as much access water as possible, all the towels were soot so he had to make do, he paused by the waterside to see how much fur he lost. But what he saw met none of his expectations.

Instead of fur that invoked images of the moon, he was cloaked in the color of the darkest ink.

“What happened to me?”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Five hundred years.

Five hundred years he searched, for any trace of the legendary Five-Fingered Moutain Buddha used to trap Sun Wukong only to find nothing. Macaque scoured far and wide. Neither the winds nor the shadows could lead him towards his friend.

He picked fights with countless demons who claimed to witness the great Monkey King brought low. It barely took two punches before they broke down crying how it had been nothing but a lie, how they only repeated rumors.

He bargained for any information he could find, but all accounts claimed the mountain didn’t exist. Many refused to answer him on principle of not interfering with the Celestial Realm’s issues. Their last mistake. Others took Wukoong’s punishment as a sign to amass as much power as possible out of fear that they would be targeted next.

Macaque had witnessed the formation of more alliances and territory grabs in the past century than had been recorded in the last thousand years. Demons were becoming more power-hungry and suspicious, which meant even more trouble for the humans. Things were becoming so chaotic, Macaque had to wonder if it was planned.

But he couldn’t dwell on that.

He hadn’t visited Flower Fruit Moutain in years. His clones kept guard, but slowly he was losing the drive to keep replenishing them. The only reason he called that mountain home was because of Wukong. It wasn’t home without him.

But he had to keep looking. Had to keep trying. He would find his friend.

Somehow.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tricked himself into thinking this would be different. That he would no longer be alone. That finally he had found a family he could keep.

He was an idiot!

The truth was he was no different than anyone else. The world was Sun Wukong’s toy chest and Macaque was merely a shiny new trinket to bat around until he grew bored. Seeing him with that group, knowing that he chose them over their past, was too much.

He was sick of being left behind. He had been left alone so many times. What made him think he couldn’t be replaced?

He could have attacked, ripped their precious monk to pieces, he could have...should have...but he was tired.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain was a chore, but one he swore he would never complete again. The monkeys questioned his return, asking where their king was and if he’d return soon. Macaque ignored them all. He simply walked to the part of the manor he and Wukong had shared for years, where he had been waiting for his return.

Staring at all the knickknacks and souvenirs they had collected from their adventures, Macaque made up his mind. Grabbing a large sturdy bag, he swiftly packed his essentials. In another, he packed non-perishable goods and water containers.

Stepping out, a flash of something peach-colored caught his eye. Spinning around, hope burning a hole in his chest but his dreams once more were proved false. It was just the special peach tree Wukong had planted from the leftover pit he had saved from his time in the Celestial Realm. Apparently, it had reached maturity and was proudly bearing the first fruit Macaque had seen despite having been planted nearly half a millennia ago.

Macaque wasn’t sure why it was so special, Wukong just winked and said it was a surprise for when they could share a fresh one. Feeling something wet on his arm, Macaque looked down to see his hand stretched towards the tree and the memories he held. Feeling his cheeks, he realized he was crying, which was strange as he didn’t think he had any tears left.

Spurred by longing and spite, Macaque plucked six peaches from the tree and stuffed them into his bag. It wasn’t like Wukong was going to miss them. And he needed the food.