#MK is one of the most recent he's let in again after so long which means a lot in the grand scheme of things; so whatever MK wishes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mylo-space · 14 days ago

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Welcome to Your Future

Summary: After a ritual goes awry, MK finds a memory-impaired Macaque in his dojo. Macaque, confused and more than a little overwhelmed by the changes, seeks out the one person he finds most familiar in the hopes that he can get some answers. And Wukong, faced with a Macaque unburdened by their millennia of rivalry, realizes there are some pretty complicated emotions resurfacing, and he's not sure he can bury them a second time.

Completed on Ao3: 2024-06-24 Word Count: 81,428 Chapters: 11

Chapter 1: Lost Memories, Found Names >> Chapter 2

If MK were to have any fatal flaw at all, it would probably be that he was a tad more trusting than he should be, considering he was in a position to make a lot of very powerful enemies. On the bright side, his optimism usually convinced people not to kill him. In the year or so since receiving the Monkey King’s powers, most of the people who’d attacked him, usually for some revenge plot or another, ended up becoming allies. Some of them had even become good friends.

Others became mentors.

MK considered himself a very enthusiastic student, and Macaque was by no means a reluctant mentor, but their lessons typically weren’t very substantial. They mostly just hung out, and Macaque occasionally offered up some advice, but it was an unspoken rule that the physical training got left to Monkey King.

It wasn’t that MK didn’t trust Macaque to do some combat training with him, it just brought up a lot of memories that they’d both rather forget. That, and MK had a sneaking suspicion that he still reminded Macaque of Monkey King. Which seemed to be a pretty common problem among most of the people Monkey King used to call his friends.

So, they didn’t do much training, but Macaque was still content to call himself MK’s mentor, if only because it annoyed Monkey King to no end. And MK was content to let him, only because he knew Monkey King wasn’t actually as annoyed by it as he pretended to be.

Truthfully, neither one of them seemed to hate each other nearly as much as their bantering would suggest. MK never got an answer about it, no matter how much he asked, but he’d learned that immortals were just strange that way. They had all the time in the world to work out their issues, and refused.

He considered asking Macaque again, maybe in a slightly roundabout way. Macaque generally saw through that kind of thing, but it never stopped MK from trying. And, maybe, MK mused as he pulled up to his co-mentor’s dojo, recent events might encourage the reserved Mystic Monkey to open up.

Long shot, probably. But MK was optimistic.

MK knocked on Macaque’s door, humming a jingle he’d heard from a commercial on TV while he waited. He’d finished delivering noodles for the day, and figured it wouldn’t hurt stopping in a little earlier than usual for his ‘training’ with Macaque.

After a few moments of no answer, MK knocked again. “Hey, Macaque!” he called. “Open up, man, I know you can hear me!”

It crossed his mind briefly that maybe Macaque was just out roaming the city. MK had shown up a couple hours early, it was possible Macaque would show if he waited around long enough. Only odd thing about it was that Macaque didn’t usually just ‘roam the city’, or roam much of anywhere, for that matter. It wasn’t the first time MK had shown up early, and Macaque was always home.

“Hey, uh-” MK knocked on the door, deliberate and loud, “Macaque? You’re kinda weirding me out here, so… I’m just gonna open the door, if that’s cool.”

The door creaked as it opened, and MK was met with a poorly lit room. Not that Macaque’s dojo was particularly bright on any given day, which was sometimes a nice change from the glaring, neon city, but it was especially dim. MK tried to convince himself that it wasn’t as concerning as the fluttering in his chest insisted it was.

Pulling out his staff, MK tentatively closed the door behind him and walked through Macaque’s dojo. “Hello?” he said loudly, a reluctant shout. “You in here, Macaque?” A noise caught him off guard, a strangled gasp escaping him as he moved to press himself against the nearest wall.

He had half a mind to be embarrassed. The noise was hardly a threatening sounding thing, just the wisp of magic, a glimmer of power. It would have been nearly indiscernible anywhere else, but in Macaque’s near silent dojo, it may as well have been an explosion. It’d always been quiet at Macaque’s place, which was kind of impressive, considering it stood in the middle of a bustling city.

Fortunately, the quiet energy was familiar. After a few steadying breaths, MK recognized Macaque’s magic hovering in the air. He hadn’t quite figured out how that worked, sensing other people’s magic, but he assumed it was another weird 'Mystic Monkey’ thing that he’d have to learn. Just when he’d thought he’d gotten things down, there was always something new.

In any case, the magic was warm. Not as warm as Monkey King’s, a near constant heat buried under stone skin, embers in the aftermath of a fire, eager to relight. Macaque’s magic was a subtle warmth, a patch of grass warmed by sunlight, a heat soothed by shade and a cool breeze.

It took a moment of searching, but he traced the magic to a room near the back of Macaque’s dojo. The door was left slightly ajar, and a light spilled through the crack. “Macaque?” MK said quietly, pushing open the door. “Macaque, are you…” He trailed off at the sight of Macaque sitting in the room, cross-legged with his hands on his knees, eyes closed and face passive.

MK, thinking perhaps Macaque was just meditating, knocked on the open door to get his attention. It almost looked like Monkey King’s transcendental meditation, but the magic around him looked different. Macaque didn’t glow like Monkey King had, there was just a steady swirl of soft blue around his head, two streams of magic that flowed in steady circles around his ears.

When knocking didn’t snap Macaque out of whatever was happening, MK walked into the room. “What kind of meditation is this?” he asked aloud, not bothering to wait for an answer as he gingerly poked Macaque’s arm with his staff. “Hey, Macaque,” he sang quietly, as though trying to wake a child from their nap. “Wakey, wakey.”

Macaque’s tail flicked, which MK took as a good sign, and moved to shake his shoulder. The magic stuttered, the flow breaking apart a bit, and Macaque’s face scrunched in discomfort.

“Macaque?” MK took a step back as the magic began to flicker, expanding and contracting erratically. It crackled, until the steady streams were jagged bolts of energy. “Macaque!” MK tried, abandoning the staff to grab Macaque by both shoulders and shake him.

The magic around Macaque didn’t feel threatening, but the whispers hadn’t seemed so dangerous, either, until the Lady Bone Demon had overtaken some of the strongest fighters he knew. She’d stolen away his mentor and his best friend, shards of ice wreaking havoc in the city, destroying the world. And even Azure had seemed harmless, until he wasn’t, until he’d revealed his true intentions, until he’d almost dissolved the universe to achieve his goals, so maybe MK had been wrong to assume that the magic surrounding Macaque was innocuous.

“Macaque!” MK demanded. He had been certain Macaque was past trying to hurt him to get to Monkey King, things had been relatively peaceful for a few months, but now there was frostbite in his ears and shadows on the walls, and his heart raced with the possibility that maybe Macaque’s need for a fight hadn’t been satiated, after all. ”Wake up!”

At that, Macaque’s eyes snapped open, inhaling sharply as though pulled from underwater. MK had just a breath to be relieved, until he saw Macaque’s violet irises. The magic turned one vicious circle around the shadow before surging outward, a ring of energy knocking MK back into the wall behind him.

MK scrabbled to grab his staff and staggered to his feet on unsteady legs, his vision blurred from the impact. He blinked against light that surrounded Macaque, watching warily until it faded. “Okay,” he breathed, “this is probably fine, uh-” He cleared his throat, his gaze finally focusing on the crumpled form of Macaque. “Are you okay? Macaque?”

All Macaque gave in response was a groan, pushing himself up off the ground and shaking his head. Purple wisps dissipated as he stood, looking just as unsteady as MK. “What’s happening?” he finally managed, turning to MK with confusion etched into his features. “How did you…” His gaze drifted to MK’s staff, “Why do you have-”

“Macaque?” MK said slowly, “Is everything okay? We were- we had training today, remember?”

“Training?” Macaque asked, looking bewildered, which was not an expression MK was used to seeing. “Kid, I don’t even… who are you?”

MK blanched at that. “Who- what the donk are you talking about?” he asked. “Is this a joke?” He lowered the staff to the ground, setting his free hand disapprovingly on his hip. “We need to work on your sense of humor, man. I’m fine with you scheming and pulling pranks and- you know, being a general menace, but giving me a heart attack does not give off the ‘cool mentor’ vibes you think it does.”

Macaque blinked at MK like he’d spoken a different language. “Okay, well… that didn’t make any sense,” he said. “So, I’m gonna ask this again,” he lifted his hands placatingly, “and I need you to stick with me on this.” His gaze flicked around the room. “Who are you, and–while I’m asking questions–where am I?” Eyes narrowing on the staff, Macaque added, “And, uh… how did you get that?”

Uneasiness settled in MK’s chest at the questions. Macaque’s voice lacked the playful lilt it usually had when he teased MK, and the confusion on his face was so genuine, so much more vulnerable than the shadow would allow under normal circumstances. “You’re freaking me out,” MK said.

“I’m standing in a room I’ve never seen before with a kid I’ve never met,” Macaque replied shortly. “Not to mention you’re holding a staff that doesn’t belong to you.” MK flinched back at the clipped tone, and Macaque seemed to realize how sharp his voice was, because he took a step back, face softening. “Look, I- you seem like a nice kid, and I don’t want to hurt you if I don’t have to.” He gestured to the staff. “But I need to know why you have that.”

MK hesitated for a moment. “I’m… okay, let’s start over.” He shrank the staff and tucked it away, startling Macaque, as though he hadn’t expected MK to actually be able to wield the weapon. “My name is MK,” he started. “I’m the Monkey King’s successor, and I-”

“Successor?” Macaque interrupted incredulously.

“Uh… well, that’s- that is what I said, yeah.”

Macaque let out a startled laugh. “How long has Wukong had a student? He should have told me that he was-” His smile faltered. “He should’ve… he would have told me if he had a student.” He studied MK carefully. “And your clothes look strange.”

Looking down in surprise, MK tugged at his jacket, inspecting the white shirt underneath. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What was I doing when you came in?”

MK turned to check the back of his jacket. “No, seriously, what’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Macaque insisted, “I really need you to focus, okay?”

“Right!” MK straightened, nodding quickly. “Right, sorry, totally focused. What’s the question? Hit me with it.” Macaque opened his mouth to answer, just as it occurred to MK that he’d already asked the question. “Oh, yeah! So, uh- I don’t really know what you were doing in here?” he said. “Some kind of magic ritual thingie, maybe. It kinda looked like you were meditating?”

Macaque frowned. “Meditating?” He gestured to the sides of his head. “There wasn’t any magic going on up here, was there?”

“There was, yeah,” MK told him. “I didn’t know what was happening, and I panicked, so I just…” he shrugged helplessly, “I tried to wake you up.” Dread pooled in his stomach, hoping that his decision hadn’t just irreversibly messed something up. “Why? Was that- is that bad? Did I do a bad?”

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, Macaque replied, “Maybe? I don’t know, honestly, I just… well, I’ve never had this problem before.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, Wukong is going to kill me when he finds out.”

MK scowled. “That’s not funny, dude.”

His reprimand was met with a confused tilt of Macaque’s head. “What isn’t?” His focus flitted away before MK could answer, looking around the room curiously. “Wait, where are we again?”

“This is your place,” MK replied. “Well, it’s a room in your place.” He waved for Macaque to follow him. “Come on, maybe seeing your stuff will, uh… I don’t know, jog your memory or something.” Macaque cautiously followed him out of the room and into the dim dojo. “Forgot how dark it was in here, one second,” he moved to the lightswitch on the wall, “lemme just get this-”

Macaque made a noise of surprise as the dojo’s overhead lights kicked on. They weren’t terribly bright, but the shadow recoiled from them all the same. “What is that?” He reached up gingerly, hand hovering around a lightbulb like it might burn him. “Did you do this? Doesn’t look like any kind of magic I’ve ever seen.”

MK shook his head. “It’s just a lightbulb, dude. It’s like, you know, electricity? Pretty much every house in the city has some.” His brow furrowed as Macaque continued to marvel at incredibly mundane things around the dojo. “So, uh… you recognize anything?”

“Huh?” Macaque said absently, “Uh, yeah, some of this… it’s definitely my stuff.” He ran a hand over the weapons rack. “I just don’t know why it’s here, and not on Flower Fruit Mountain.”

“I mean, probably because you live here?” MK offered.

Macaque whirled on him at that, eyes wide with shock. “I live here?” His hands flailed a bit, gesturing around the dojo. “Why do I live here?” He demanded, “What happened to Flower Fruit Mountain?”

Lifting his hands in surrender, hoping that it’d placate the panicking immortal, MK quickly explained, “Monkey King still lives on Flower Fruit Mountain, nothing happened to it, you guys just-”

“Then I need to get back,” Macaque said, breezing past MK and towards the door. “How far is it from here?”

“Uh- hold on!” MK wasn’t sure what he was dealing with, but if Macaque was startled by a lightbulb, the city was going to be a whole different kind of shock. “Let’s just- uh, hang on a second-”

But Macaque had already thrown open the door, barely taking one step outside before he was reeling. “What the hell is that?” His hands clapped over his ears as he stumbled back into the dojo. “What is-”

MK rushed forward to slam the door shut. “Okay! So, just to explain some stuff here, you live in the city,” he explained. Macaque reluctantly moved his hands, the outside noise banished with the closed door. “And it’s a pretty big city. There’s lots of people, lots of cars, lots of… lots of everything, really.”

“Right,” Macaque nodded, blinking owlishly. “Can I just-” His body dropped until he was crouched on the ground, resting on the balls of his feet. “Could you give me a second, kid?” He asked, lacing together his fingers and pressing them against his forehead. “Processing some stuff here.”

All things considered, MK was having a pretty weird day, but it occurred to him suddenly that Macaque was probably having a way weirder day than he was. “Yeah, that was probably a lot.” He gave Macaque’s shoulder a reluctant pat. The Macaque he knew probably wouldn’t have accepted any kind of reassurance, but this Macaque looked like he needed it. “You, uh… you good?

“Probably,” Macaque mumbled. “Just gotta get ahold of myself.” He took a deep breath, the shoulder under MK’s hand trembling on the exhale. “What century is this?”

“I think we’re somewhere in the 21st century?” MK replied, “Probably. It’s not super clear.” He cleared his throat. “I’m guessing things are a little different than you remember?”

Macaque hummed. “Pretty much everything.” He stood and brushed off his shirt. “Okay, let’s try that-” He paused, looking down at himself with an odd expression. “That… that’s not right.”

“What isn’t? Your shirt?” MK shrugged. “You wear that thing all the time.”

“Do I wear it wrong all the time?” Macaque asked. “Because it’s folded-” He shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll worry about it later.” He looked back to MK. “So, about getting to Flower Fruit Mountain.”

MK clapped his hands together. “Yes! Flower Fruit Mountain, can do.” The issue with that was the Monkey King himself. MK was sure that Macaque wasn’t trying to pull anything, but he doubted his mentor would feel the same. If MK enlisted the help of Monkey King, there was a pretty high chance that he’d taunt the shadow rather than help. “There might be, uh- a slight problem with that, actually.”

“What?” Macaque crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Well-” MK was saved from having to say anything else by his phone, which exploded with sound. “Uh, hold that thought.” MK pulled his phone out of his pocket and fumbled with it for a moment. “I gotta take this.” And he did, not just because it served as a good distraction, but because MK had learned that if he missed a few calls from his friends, they would assume another world-destroying threat had appeared and start panicking.

Macaque frowned at MK’s phone. “What is that?”

MK made a vague gesture for him to wait as he answered the phone, quickly glancing at the caller ID before putting it to his ear. “Hey, Mei! Now isn’t really a good time, if I could just call you back-”

“MK!” Mei interrupted. “They fixed the Monkey Mech game at the arcade,” she informed him cheerfully, “and I owe you about two weeks of butt-kicking.”

“That’s great, Mei,” MK said, “but I kinda got a situation here, so-”

“Who are you talking to?” Macaque asked, tilting his head curiously at MK’s phone, like the device might somehow make more sense at forty-five degrees. “Is the talking box magic? Or is this another lightbulb situation?”

Shooing Macaque away, MK replied, “It’s another lightbulb thing, don’t worry about it.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway! Mei, I really-”

“Is that Macaque?” Mei gasped, “Oh, you should totally invite him to the arcade! Then I can kick both your butts at Monkey Mech. That counts as training, right? I feel like that should count as training.”

Macaque waved as though Mei could see him. “Hello, girl in MK’s talking box,” he greeted awkwardly, clearly unsure what to make of the phone. “What’s an arcade?”

Mei winced, “How out of touch is this guy?” she asked quietly. “Even Monkey King knows what a videogame is.”

“Does Wukong know her?” Macaque leaned closer to MK’s phone. “Girl in the talking box! Do you know Wukong?”

MK gently shoved Macaque away from his ear. “It’s called a phone, Macaque, would you just- Mei, I’m putting you on speaker.” He pulled the phone away from his head to find whatever button would play Mei’s voice aloud, so that Macaque didn’t have to talk in his ear to be part of the conversation. “There! Okay, um- Mei? I have a serious situation here, and it’s not a ‘go to the arcade now and fix it later’ kind of problem.”

“Macaque isn’t trying anything, is he?” Mei demanded, her voice suddenly taking on a low, dangerous tone. “MK, what did he do?”

“I just met MK five minutes ago, why would I do anything?” Macaque exclaimed, looking bewildered at the very notion. “And how did you get inside this box?”

“No, Mei, Macaque didn’t do anything this time,” MK told her quickly, and Macaque looked disturbed by the phrase this time. MK hoped that they’d figure out how to fix Macaque before he had to explain what had happened. “Macaque is the situation, he’s… I don’t know, he’s stuck. And I don’t know how to fix him.”

“Stuck how?”

Macaque made an unsure noise. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure that out, too.”

“Hence, ‘the situation’.” MK pinched the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t remember a lot of stuff right now, and I don’t know how to make him unforget. And, no, before you ask,” MK interjected before Mei could, “he’s not faking it. He’s a good actor, but he’s not this good.”

“Thank you,” Macaque said brightly. “I think. Have you seen me perform?”

“You’re absolutely sure this isn’t a trick?” Mei asked skeptically.

MK hummed. “Mm-hm, like, ninety-nine point nine percent sure.” He sighed, “But I have no idea how to fix it, and I’m not sure I can bring him to Monkey King-”

Macaque straightened at that. “Wait, why can’t we go to Wukong for help?”

“Uh- he’s busy,” MK said quickly. “Doing Mystic Monkey business, probably.” It was a lie, but it was easier than explaining the long, complicated history between them. Especially since MK didn’t actually know a lot about what happened. Macaque didn’t look very satisfied with the answer, but he didn’t press.

There was something garbled on Mei’s end of the line, a gruff voice that MK could recognize anywhere, even if he couldn’t hear the words. “Yeah, so,” Mei said, “Piggy is saying to bring him here? He and Tang think they might know what’s happening.”

“Really?” MK asked. “That’s great! We’ll meet you guys over there.” He hung up the phone, turning to Macaque with a grin. “Okay, change of plans. How do you feel about noodles?”

Macaque gave a half-hearted shrug. “I mean, they’re fine, I guess?” He fidgeted with his scarf, tugging at the red fabric with a crinkled nose. “Why? Are there noodles where we’re going?”

“Pigsy will probably have some ready when we get over there. He owns a noodle shop, and I work as his delivery boy,” MK explained while Macaque turned in a circle, staring at the tail end of his scarf as though baffled by it. “Did you- do you wanna change before we head out?”

“Can I?” Macaque swatted at the flowing scarf in irritation. “This stupid hanfu is driving me insane, and the scarf isn’t much better. It wasn’t even cold outside.” He started wrestling the red fabric over his head as he walked to the back of the dojo. “I’m gonna go look around this… whatever this is, and find something sensible to wear. I’ll be right back.”

MK wondered if Macaque would be insulted by himself when he got back to normal, taking jabs at his own fashion choice. He couldn’t wait to relay everything that had happened to the shadow when his memories came back, exposing the edgy lord of shadows for the softie he was, because MK did genuinely believe, somewhere deep down, that Macaque was still this soft.

But in order to tease Macaque about his long-buried softness, they’d have to fix him first. And MK figured Macaque would probably take a while with the wardrobe change–he could hear the shadow opening and closing doors, apparently having trouble figuring out which room might have some spare clothes–so he leaned against the nearest wall and scrolled through his phone. While he waited, he looked up the proper way to wear a hanfu. He wasn’t super familiar with traditional clothing, but Macaque seemed adamant that it was wrong, and MK was curious.

The results he got were a little more off-putting than he had anticipated. A hanfu wasn’t supposed to be folded the way Macaque’s had been, right over left, unless it was on a corpse, which had a pretty disturbing implication that MK didn’t want to think too hard about, even if it was just symbolism. He shoved his phone and his pocket and resolved to scold Macaque for his dramatics later.

“Hey, kid,” Macaque called, stepping back into the dojo, wearing what looked like a simpler version of the hanfu he’d taken off, folded left over right and accessorized with a red bandana. He looked nearly identical to the memories MK had seen in the Scroll. “I’m pretty sure that city outside is pretty difficult to navigate if you're a millennia behind the times. How are we getting to this noodle shop?”

“I’ll drive us there,” MK replied, “but we should probably head out now before traffic gets bad.” He started for the door, but stopped with his hand on the door handle. “Uh… is there any kind of- like, a magic thing you can do? So the city doesn’t hurt your ears so much?”

Macaque made an unsure noise. “I can keep them hidden, but there’s not much I can do for the sound.”

“Sorry, hidden?” MK clarified, confused by the statement as Macaque’s ears were clearly in plain view. Though, when MK thought about it, his full name was the ‘Six-Eared Macaque’. He hadn’t ever considered that the name was literal, but Macaque was capable of creating some pretty powerful illusions. MK knew about the scar he kept hidden, it was reasonable to assume that the shadow might keep a couple extra sets of ears hidden, too.

“Uh-huh,” Macaque replied absently. “Wukong usually handles the noise when I need it, but he’s not here… for some reason.” He looked around, like something in the four walls might have more answers if he looked hard enough. “I don’t know why I’d be doing this without Wukong around,” the shadow muttered quietly. “We must have become morons in the future.”

“You mean the present,” MK corrected. “Right? This is still the present? You’re morons in the present.”

“Technically, yeah,” Macaque conceded. “But my memories are stuck in the past somehow, so to me? It’s the future, and I’m not an idiot yet.”

“You know, fair enough!” MK replied, opening the door and letting the city noise back into the dojo. “Let me know if the city gets too loud for you, I’ll let you borrow my headphones.”

Macaque followed MK outside with a barely audible wince. “Your what phone? The box you were talking into?”

MK took the blue headphones off of his neck. “Put these over your ears,” he instructed, hopping in the driver side of his tuk-tuk and putting his key in the ignition. “They’re noise canceling, and I can play some music if you want.”

“No, it’s…” Macaque slipped the headphones over his ears, looking pleasantly surprised at the lack of noise. “This is great, actually.” He slid into the passenger seat of the tuk-tuk, looking around the city in amazement. “The mortals have gotten creative over the years.”

“Yup!” MK drove slower than he usually would, letting Macaque take in the sights as they made their way across the city. “Nothing like good ol’ human ingenuity.” He turned onto a busy street, watching in amusement as Macaque marveled at the skyscrapers and buses and neon signs. “It’s weird seeing you like this, you know? You’re not usually this enthusiastic.”

“Really?” Macaque asked. “What am I usually like?”

MK hummed. “You sorta got this… like, a slightly edgier vibe going on? Kinda broody, a little mean-ish.” Macaque looked concerned at that, so MK quickly amended with, “I think you have good- like, mostly good intentions, you’re just not always the nicest person, you know?”

“Mean, huh?” Macaque mumbled. “Wonder when that started happening.” MK had a few guesses, most of them involving a fight he saw, one deep below a mountain, but he kept that to himself. “I’m sure Wukong will know what’s going on. Whenever he gets back from his… what’d you call it? ‘Mystic Monkey’ business? I’m gonna need him to fill me in on a few things.”

“Well, hopefully we can get you fixed before he has to explain anything,” MK said. “No ‘filling you in’ required, because there’s, like, hundreds of years worth of stuff to tell you, and I don’t think Monkey King would have the patience.”

Macaque chuckled. “Fair enough.” He leaned back in his seat. “I can’t wait to tell him all about this when I see him again.” MK stopped at a red light, turning to watch Macaque. It was odd seeing an almost child-like wonder from the otherwise cynical shadow. It was easy to see how Monkey King had gotten along with Macaque in the past, if this was the Macaque he’d befriended.

But it made a small, anxious pit in MK’s stomach, knowing that this Macaque was also, somehow, the same Macaque that stripped him of his powers and pinned him to a mountain. The Macaque so eager to see Monkey King had grown to be someone who’d go to unfathomable lengths just to provoke his former friend into fighting him. MK had seen some pieces of their past, a peach-scented promise on a beach and a vicious, scathing fight from under a mountain, but it still seemed so surreal, that two people who cared about each other so much could become such bitter enemies.

MK shook his head as the light above him turned green. Macaque lurched a bit as MK hit the gas, and he put his hand out to brace himself on the dash. “So,” the shadow asked, “how far are we from this noodle shop?”

“It’s right up ahead,” MK told him, turning down familiar streets. “Oh, and just a heads up, I guess, because you don’t… you don’t remember it, but you don’t always get along with my friends. So, if everyone’s a little on edge, don’t take it personally.”

“Huh,” Macaque frowned as MK pulled up alongside the shop. “Well, I guess that’s not a surprise. I don’t get along with a lot of people in the past, either.” He pulled the headphones off his ears and handed them back to MK. “Maybe I can win them over. I don’t know what I did to make them mad at me, but I probably shouldn’t be on bad terms with your friends if you’re Wukong’s successor.”

“I mean, yeah,” MK said, hoping he sounded more optimistic than he felt, “maybe we can, uh- we can put in a good word for future you. Present you. Whichever you it is.” He cleared his throat and hopped out of the vehicle. “Come on! I’m sure Mr. Tang is pacing a track in the floor trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

Macaque slid out of the passenger seat and followed MK to the door. “Is this Mr. Tang guy familiar with my kind of magic?”

“He’s familiar with some magic,” MK supplied. “He’s still learning. And you’re a little cagey about your, uh… whatever you got going on.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I don’t even understand my powers half the time.” Macaque’s hand trailed to his chest, like he had something to protect there. “Hopefully, we won’t have to pry at anything to figure this out.” He grasped the knot of his bandana as MK parted the wooden curtain leading inside.

Everyone was waiting, heads snapping to the door as MK entered. “MK!” Mei gasped, jumping from her chair and grabbing MK by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Where is-”

“Macaque!” Tang, half-hidden by a pile of books, yelped as the shadow slipped in the door behind MK. “He’s here!”

Pigsy’s eyes narrowed. “He didn’t try anything, did he?” He jabbed an accusing ladle in Macaque’s direction. “I better not find out that this is some trick of yours, ‘cause I have a pot of boiling water with your name on it.”

Macaque crossed his arms, looking self-conscious under Pigsy’s scrutinizing stare. “Alright, yeah, I see what you mean,” he told MK. “These guys do not like me. Which,” he lifted his hands placatingly, “I’m sure you all have perfectly good reasons for! So, I’m just gonna sit over here,” he moved to a table in the corner of the shop and pulled out a chair, “and, uh… be very quiet.”

While everyone else in the noodle shop seemed surprised by the complacency, Sandy waved from across the room. “Hello, Mr. Maquack,” he greeted warmly. “I heard you’re having some memory trouble.” He held up a book full of flowers and plants, “I’ve been looking for some cures; I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

The shadow gave a hesitant smile. “Maquack?” he asked.

Sandy shrugged. “You never corrected me.”

“Fair enough,” Macaque replied.

Tang squinted at Macaque, readjusting his glasses. “You know, I had my doubts about Macaque’s amnesia before, but… he’s like an entirely different person.” He pulled a book from his pile and flipped through the pages. “I’m not exactly sure what to do about this.”

“You think this is like the Monkey King’s amnesia thing?” Pigsy asked.

Mei clambered onto a barstool and leaned against the counter. “Uh- question?” she said curiously. “What amnesia thing are you guys talking about?”

“Yeah,” MK agreed. “Just a recap for, you know, anyone that didn’t see what happened.”

“Well, someone woke Monkey King from his transcendental meditation,” Tang said, glaring pointedly at Pigsy, whose only response was a huff and an eyeroll. “We were dealing with a much younger Monkey King for a while, and he seemed convinced that Mo, Pigsy, and I were his friends from the Journey.”

Macaque, from across the room, asked, “What journey?”

“But Macaque doesn’t think we’re anyone else,” Mei pointed out. “He just doesn’t know who we are.”

“And I don’t think he was meditating when I found him,” MK added. “I mean, it looked similar, I guess, but we're still not really sure what happened.”

Pigsy idly stirred his pot of noodles. “Well, it’s still amnesia, ain’t it? Let’s just find a big rock and have MK chuck it at his head. It fixed Monkey King just fine.”

“Sorry,” Macaque interjected. “Did you, uh- did you say that you threw a rock at Wukong? Because I find that both hilarious and mildly concerning.”

Sandy scratched his head in thought. “I’m sure there’s a better solution than that,” he insisted. “Throwing a rock at him seems like such a violent way to solve a medical emergency.”

Tang made an unsure noise. “Are we sure that this is a medical emergency? MK said that Macaque was doing something with his magic. If this is some kind of mystical interference, there might not be a lot of mortal remedies that can help.” He gestured to Macaque. “We don’t even know if Macaque is as indestructible as Monkey King is. Throwing a rock at him might actually make this worse.”

Mei hummed in thought. “Remind me again why we’re not asking Monkey King for help?” She placed her chin in her hand. “I mean, he’d know Macaque better than any of us, right? Maybe Monkey King has seen this before, even if this Macaque doesn’t remember it.”

“Even if this Macaque doesn’t remember anything, Monkey King does,” Tang pointed out. “Would he even be willing to help Macaque?”

“I mean…” MK started reluctantly, “they have been on better terms since the Scroll of Memory.” He fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, dragging it up and down anxiously. Just because Macaque had helped with the Scroll, didn’t mean the shadow and the king were on good terms. Their whole situation was too difficult to navigate. “Monkey King might be willing to help, probably.”

Pigsy raised an eyebrow. “Then why didn’t you call him,” he asked, and the question made MK shrink a little, because Pigsy never asked questions like that unless he already knew the answer. And, the truth was, MK wasn’t sure if Monkey King would help.

There were centuries of distance between Monkey King and Macaque, and MK was certain that the gentle exchange of glances he’d seen in the Scroll was only a mere dent in the walls they’d created around each other. Even with Macaque out of the loop, MK honestly wouldn’t put it past his mentor to heckle the oblivious shadow, anyway, just for the fun of it. And not only would that be incredibly unhelpful, it also wasn’t particularly fair to the memory-impaired Macaque.

“You know I can still hear you guys, right?” Macaque said from across the room, not looking particularly happy about what he was hearing. “I’m not called the Six-Eared Macaque for nothing.”

At that, Tang’s head snapped up, staring Macaque down with an odd look. “Six-Eared Macaque,” he repeated slowly.

Macaque nodded. “Uh… yeah, that’s- is that news to you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should have introduced myself. MK seemed to know who I was, I guess I just assumed his friends would, too.”

“The Six-Eared Macaque?” Tang clarified.

“Well, I assume it’s the Six-Eared Macaque,” the shadow replied, sounding vaguely amused. “Unless that’s somehow become a common name in the last few hundred years.”

That didn’t seem to soothe Tang’s confusion, his brow furrowing as he turned to MK. “Did you know that was his full name this whole time?”

MK shifted nervously. “I mean, yeah, he mentioned it when we first met, but I didn’t think anything of it. He introduced himself as Macaque, so that’s what I called him.”

“That can’t be right, I thought…” Tang grabbed a book, a familiar one, worn with age and use. MK leaned over his shoulder as he flipped through the ‘Journey to the West’. “I didn’t think you were-” He snapped the book shut before MK could get a good look at what chapter he was reading. “How did I not see it before?”

Tilting his head, Macaque asked, “Sorry, what can’t be right? I’m still new here, so-”

“He was part of the Brotherhood,” Tang scolded himself. “The Macaque Spirit King, the Six-Eared Macaque, it’s Macaque, it all seems so obvious now.” He slipped a hand under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Monkey King has a thousand titles; he’s Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Protector of Celestial Horses-”

“Oh!” MK interjected, “I asked him about the horse thing one time? He does not like that title, like, at all.”

Pigsy shook his head. “I don’t have the slightest clue what either of you are talking about.”

Mei hummed in agreement, “Join the club.”

“I mean, in my defense, people called Monkey King ‘macaque’ all the time!” Tang continued. “They called him ‘monkey’ and ‘simian’ and,” he turned to Macaque, “you’re a- like, a monkey demon thing, right? I thought ‘Macaque’ was just a name you got… stuck with.”

“Well, I’m- I think I’m technically celestial,” Macaque said. “And I don’t really see what my name has to do with anything.” He squinted at Tang’s copy of the Journey. “And I definitely don’t see what it has to do with that book, that’s… did someone write a book about Wukong? Am I in it?” He smiled, a fond looking thing. “Aw, he’s probably insufferable about that. His very own book.”

MK had been made acutely aware that he should have read the ‘Journey to the West’, Macaque had said as much at least three times in the Scroll. And, in hindsight, it would have been useful to have some information about Monkey King’s old enemies, but never had MK been quite so annoyed with himself for not actually sitting down and reading the Journey cover to cover. Of course, Macaque was in the book. He’d been trying to pry the information out of the two immortals for months, and he could have just read the book.

But he hadn’t, and maybe it was because some part of him didn’t really want to know the extent of the damage Monkey King had caused, or maybe he was afraid some of the enemies he’d fought had real reasons to hate the Great Sage. In any case, MK didn’t like the expression on Tang’s face as he looked at Macaque. “You know what? Maybe I should get Monkey King,” he said quickly. “I can try astral projecting, see if he’ll come to the noodle shop and help us brainstorm. Or I can bring Macaque to him! Maybe he’ll have something in the cave that can help.”

“He has always been a bit of a hoarder,” Macaque mused. “And if he’s been collecting for a thousand years, maybe he does have something.” Confusion creased his brow. “But I thought he was busy.”

Mei snorted. “Busy eating peaches, maybe,” she joked. “It’s his day off. MK had training with you today, so I doubt Monkey King is doing much of anything.”

Macaque glanced at MK, raising an eyebrow, “Mystic Monkey business, huh?”

MK gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah, so…” He ducked away and scurried to the stairs that led up to his apartment. “I’m gonna go call Monkey King! Be back in a minute.” He bolted up to his room, eager to escape Macaque’s prying gaze, shutting the door firmly behind him and slumping against the nearest wall, dragging his hands down his face with an exasperated groan.

As much as MK wanted to avoid a fight between the mystic monkeys, he’d reached a point that he was flailing for answers. And Macaque was behaving himself, if only because he didn’t remember how to be bitter, so if Monkey King was willing to call a truce long enough to help, maybe–just maybe –MK wouldn’t have to deal with them fighting like children.

He sighed and pushed himself off the wall, closing his eyes and summoning the focus to project himself outwards in search of Monkey King. If there was anything optimistic to be found in the ruins of his training session, it was that dealing with his two emotionally incompetent mentors would, at the very least, be a fantastic exercise in patience.

#mylo's lmk stories #cross posted on ao3 #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #lmk mk #lego monkie kid macaque #lego monkie kid sun wukong #lego monkie kid mk #shadowpeach #lmk mei #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk sandy #lmk fanfiction

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artemismoorea03 · 4 months ago

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Monkies Deserve Better References pt 1

This is a bit of a long one so to save people who follow me for my other series I'm going to put it behind a 'read more' line. Both for that reason and because I couldn't be bothered drawing clothes so the references are naked (not like anything graphic though, they're basically shaped like barbies, don't worry)!

The reference I used I found on pinterest but was made by Toresoza on Twitter for those who want a better high quality version with all the hand shapes will have to find it on Twitter, but for now have this low quality Pinterest one to start out.

Now! Onto the proper references! Keep in mind this is how the characters look from anything before Macaque's Not Alright! There might be some missing scars that the characters should have in canon that they don't have here (namely MK because it was 4 am and I forgot) so they might change slightly but for now here we go!

Let's start with Wukong! First with his glamours up and then with them down! (Peach included because I couldn't get the little shit's hand to work with me so I fed him).

The scar on his brow and cheek would very likely be canon as well as the one on his upper left arm and right elbow which would have all happened during the fight with Nezha.

Included on his face are also the headband scars, burns around his eyes which are red after the Demon Hospital fiasco. Also from the demon hospital fiasco are most of the dark patches on his body (realizing now I missed another burn spot on his inner right forearm that's older than the rest but that's fine). When he was tossed in the forget his fur was magically burned whever it was touching the table which is why he has lines on his tail, wrists and ankles (noticed another mistake on his tail but AGAIN IT WAS LATE LET ME LIVE /lh /j). I'll fix it later but I'm too tired to bother now.

The injuries on his chest and stomach are a mix of the Demon Hospital stuff and MK's Not Alright injuries while the white on his back, shoulders, sides and hips are all from LBD :3

Other details about MDB/MAA Wukong as well as all of the monkeys is that his fur and hair are slightly different shades that are barley noticeable (I'm even questioning if I did it for him but I'm going to hope I did x'D). Wukong is also covered in freckles which he doesn't bother glamouring due to how much energy it would take.

Wukong also shares a bit of a 'dad bod' with Canon Wukong (I'm still learning how to draw weight, so ignore that he looks pregnant he's just supposed to be a little squishy). He is also the tallest of the three monkeys I have done, standing at a super tall /s 5'6" (167 cm/66 in (according to Google)).

-----

Next is Macaque who until I actually did this I thought had the most scars. Nope. His scars are the biggest but he probably has the least amount of scars x'D

Macaque's canon injuries on his chest and eye are visible when he's not glamoured but not nearly as obvious as his newer scars.

On his back is a whip scar that he got from Havoc and Confusion - the timeline on this is messed up and will be edited sooner or later -but it happened when he was quite young and doesn't bother him nearly as much as some of the other scars.

The scar on his right thigh, palms of his hand, horizontally across his chest and through his stomach all came from the Seven-Star Sword.

The three scars across his chest are from Wukong's Not Alright when he was cut down by the giant cat monster. This is also when the edges of his fur started to grow in white when they grew back (he should have a couple of other white patches on his body from smaller injuries but they don't have set spots other than *maybe* in his inner elbows, but again, it's not set).

Then, the final and newest scars are on his hips which he gained during the most recent run in with Confusion.

The white on his fur and in his hair is his 'natural' color from before he was killed the first time (not when Wukong killed him) while the blue is from LBD. The blue will likely never turn fully white but might lighten over time to be a more gray color than blue, but that will take a long time and unless Macis willing to shave himself completely most of his fur will always remain black

Other details about Macaque are his six ears in his unglamoured form which are red, blue and teal based on the colors from the 2009 Monkey King series which also inspired a lot of Macaque's background and life story.

Macaque is the smallest of the three monkeys and stands at 5'3" (160 cm /63.6 In).

--------

Finally, there's MK and oh boy. I didn't realize how much of a break this kid needed after all of this but considering how his scars look I'm about to send him on vacation. A paid vacation with therapy included because holy shit.

After I finished making MK I realized I forgot to look for any canon scars that he would have, but considering most of them would be covered by fur I'm also not in a rush to go through and look through them.

His oldest scar is on his forehead mostly hidden by his hair which is the scar mentioned in the third chapter in the series. From there the scars get bigger and more dramatic the longer it goes on, so let's go through the list.

The scars on his right shoulder is from the snakes that infest the Earth Turtle! Also from his adventure on the Earth Turtle are his top surgery scars which he doesn't glamour (he spends too much time/energy glamouring everything else and he's proud of them, so why bother).

He has a matching wound to Macaque on his lower left stomach (which might be in the wrong spot but again i'm tired) came from Monkies Aren't Alright when Chang Liu stabs him with an immortal killing weapon to have access to what 'makes him tick'.

Then in MK's Not Alright he got attacked by another non-venomous snake that bit his left shin and left deep scarring there as well but oddly enough that was the only scar he gained from that one.

In Wukong's Not Alright he gained two scars, the one through his right shin and the wound to his left shoulder blade.

The rest of the scars - the one on his face, most of the ones on his cheek, chest, back, legs, and tail all came from Macaque's not alright with some other minor scars that I forgot about x'D. They are a mixture of whip wounds, slash wounds and burns all came from Havoc, Ginger and Confusion trying to control him.

Other details include slight discoloration on his fingers from the same torture he went through to get the majority of his scars. Part of his bangs are discolored to be white and he's covered in countless white freckles giving him a very 'starry' appearance to him. (which in a way makes his fur look like space with the scars being shooting stars and planets).

MK is the 'middle' monkey and stands at 5'5" (165cm/65in , only an inch shorter than Wukong.

-----

That's all that I have done right now but I'm hoping to make Loi, Red, Mei, and Nezha at some point as well as Tu, Yuanhou, Mihou, Changpu, Pengu and a super secret fifth option too ;3

That being said, if there are any characters you want me to try to make a reference for, just let me know. These were just some of the ones most requested by my discord and friends so I thought I'd do them first. Once I have the others done though, I'll post them.

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid fanfic #monkies arent alright #monkies deserve better #LMKAU #my art #character reference #I did my best #I'm proud of them even with their mistakes and missing details #seriously get these monkeys some therapy #or at least a warm drink and a blanket

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crispy-dib · 26 days ago

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Tell me everything about your oc NOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!! haha jk, ,,,,,, unless ?

Because tumblr was mean and kicked me out here’s an image of the first lil blurb I wrote

CONTINUING ON THOUGH!

Currently Eli’s main trials is 1 of his very own and 2 MK events (will elaborate further later), but in events where multiple PA’s can be in the same area (like Prime Time, any other events like that in the past I may have missed due to just getting the game recently lol) he will automatically be placed alongside Franco Barbi - typically in The Docks, but he has attended The Fun Park a few times. He is never found in The Orphanage or The Police Station.

As for Eli’s actual past? What brought him to Project Lathe? It’s a long story.

Let’s go back to the very beginning.

Eli, as he’s known, is a multidimensional being that I created in order to have a baseline sona for fictional universes. He started back in 2022 as a Sonic OC, and has just grown ever since.

He was born from a quasar and searches the multiverse for companionship and to study life on planets.

His consciousness splits upon every universe (meaning that only this version of it is present in the universe).

Only one can exist per dimension, so there is only one Elisheva for every fictional world.

and this is where we bring it back to Outlast.

Upon traversing to this world in New York, Elisheva finds he can’t achieve his regular form. He’s human in this world, against his will. Spoiler alert! that’s due to Murkoff fuckery.

For reference: Eli is usually in the appearance of an anthropomorphic rabbit because again, thats how he began (a sonic oc.) Tosses these at ya!

He attempts to live a normal life in the Outlast world, despite being SO out of his element. This doesn’t really go well.

Being a human version of himself, and in the 1930s-50s where he grows up in New York…things aren’t…great.

Firstly those scars? Those aren’t there. He grows into “a woman”. With all the societal pressures of being an adult in the 50s, he has to perform femininity to an incredulous degree. Or, he should.

He refuses. Living as himself rather than the fraudulent woman people around him wishes him to be. What used to be friends are now enemies, and the world begins to crumble beneath him.

On top of that, I give him my epilepsy in EVERY world, so he’s super fucked in that stance. ADA didn’t pass until the 1990s, and there was no goddamn way people would accommodate for him.

Slowly being stripped of his personhood, he loses himself. And if he can’t look the way he truly is, and if he cannot be helped without death, then death it shall be.

He begins an impressive murder spree, the mask fused to his face being the flesh of his victims. The only reason Clyde Perry isn’t harmed from attempting to find him is because Elisheva already almost took himself out.

Clyde finds him half dead bleeding from…it’d be easier to name where he WASN’T bleeding from, but the most shocking part to many was his chest. He lopped parts of it off (an actually written moment of my own intrusive/impulsive thoughts if I had no restraint)

So Eli is taken to Sinyala without much of a hitch and slight reconstruction on his breasts, arms, legs- really everywhere but his face, which, of course, now bore the mask.

^ A transcription of an interview :)

He’s named Project Patchwork after the mask and Patchwork Rabbit for the same reason.

I and others have this headcanon of The Prime Assets having their own holding rooms at Sinyala - and I know it’s cliché, but at first Eli is held WITH Franco in an effort to calm the both of them. Franco needs a Mommy and Eli needs a damn friend. I’m not sure if I do want them to separate their rooms, but if they ever do it’ll just add more interesting things to their dynamic. They will EVENTUALLY become an item, but it takes a very long time.

Eli’s Trial is called “Reform the Formless”, and it takes place on The Campsite.

His MK Challenges are “Evacuate The Grounds” and “Drown the Counselor”

RTF has tasks that builds to you eventually rushing out with mannequin “children” and putting them into a cart, pushing them to safety. Eli will try to protect these children. This is a 45 minute trial.

“Taking away the bonds that which the cow has with her calf is how we create more cows. More milk. More money. Take these lost cows from their mother. Take them. Reform them. And we will let you out.”

ETG is a shorter version, where you pretty much only take the kids out, versus everything else in the made up trial (which includes gaining access to the grounds through summer camp-like quests) this is a 15 minute trial.

DTC is actually a lot like Vindicate The Guilty or Cleanse The Orphans in the sense of ya need keys to activate a thing to kill a man. This time its boat keys and a “dunk the ___” minigame to complete the trial. 15 minute trial

Eli tends to kill using only his teeth and nails as well as general brute force. He can also pick up things like bricks and bottles to throw at you, but he much prefers the former.

Uhh that’s all I have. If you read this far I’m giving you a kiss on the forehead and hugs (with consent of course)

#outlast trials oc #the outlast trials #prime asset oc #project patchwork #patchwork rabbit #franco barbi #murkoff #sinyala outlast #outlast oc #outlast #infodumping

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evasivaardilosa · 1 year ago

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Spoiler-y thing about Bi-Han

(Expect a lot of these, there was so little of him (probably bc his role will be bigger and his arc continued in the next game) so I have lots of room to imagine stuff)

I said that it was funny to see how he reacted to seeing the money and that I never saw him as someone who wanted money.

Except…

His very first ending. Which is not canon but would be the only characterization of him for so long, and one of the few of him in life.

Mk1 Bi-Han was done with everything. With his family, with Liu Kang. Maybe his greed and obsession with power is motivated by a desire for freedom. He has just recently become Grandmaster so until yesterday he was living by his father’s rules, who he resents. This position of power lets him make his own choices for the first time and the last thing he wants is to be trapped in the same path. With the Lin Kuei powerful and ruling and with money and an undead army, he would be able to just sit back and relax, not take Liu Kang’s orders, let the rock army do the hard (and dangerous work), etc

Don’t get me wrong, in this hc of mine he is still pretty much evil. I like him evil just as much as I like him as a secret softie

The thing here is that Bi-Han is one of the most trapped by the narrative character ever. He never made it out in the other two timelines. The same game in which he would have retired if he had won is the one in which he is killed in canon. And where does he end after this death?

In the Netherrealm, as Quan Chi’s slave, doomed to be an assassin forever, to be involved with this shit and these people forever

Outside the story, because he dies in the first game and because every adaptation starts from there, we have to watch him die again and again, without any hope that he will ever not die because Kuai has to take his place and he has to take his new role eventually. There is something weirdly poetic actually about how Kuai’s arc can only start after Bi-Han dies and so Bi-Han always has to die for it to start its motions

(And also how Bi-Han is the only mk character permanently changed by death. The revenants come back and they don’t even have to always die. Hanzo when revived is just Scorpion Lite. Kuai got to be decyberized after dying. Bi-Han is the only one whose identities before and after death are so widely different)

So having freedom be his motivation and dream hits so hard for me. He can’t be free. He hasn’t, so far, ever been able to change his fate. Will he now?

#ea talks #mk1 spoilers

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night-faye · 4 months ago

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Don't worry about it :) 50% of those asks is me flipping alongside you on those scenes, 50% is sharing something new. That suspicious time-skip and white tail is the most interesting imo. I AM ALSO THINKING ABOUT IT ✨ 🤝 😁 Truly something evil you can do there as the infamous drill person...*backs away slowly* There is SO much LMK content to catch you up on between videos and fanfics. *sigh* I'm gonna have to hunt down so many fics for you eh? Luckily I have some author names I can toss at you before finding the individual one-shots around. That ought to keep you fed for a month :D alright time to zoop the final. Thankfully Macky hardly shows up in S4 at all so I can take a nice nap from talking about him. *cue sounds of Faye going *WHAT* it's okay because when he does, it's quality and carries weight ^_^ start and end, that's all you're getting <3 but 👀 you get some sleep. you're going to need it for the ~ flashbacks ~ for ~ baby ShadowPeach ~ the wittlest, fwuffiest I say. What a long journey, now you finally get some context rewards! But only half. Suffer with the rest bc we're STILL waiting. 1) LOVE the slo-mo freeze frame on Wukong reaching out and everything bursts into flame! Too little too late, and YES for pausing there because sure, Macky was frosted over more than an 8 year old's birthday cake, but?? blue chains??? perhaps attached to his spirit 👀 hey, did you know LBD actually possessed Bai He pretty close to Macky's theatre? like the literal next door alley because of that glowing neon sign. What if she was looking for Macky? What if, instead of a 2nd compass, this is how she could always find him? He was literally tied to her even before the ice. oh great, now I'm thinking about cryogenically frozen monkey corpses again. but note: one of the chains higher up. if you're delusional, there was a chain on his neck too. now also NOTE 👀 the way Macky instantly looks at both wrists, say. hey hey hey do you think he always felt those chains on him. he's been walking so funny lately, do they drag on him. yes he IS so happy 🥺 first genuine glee and respite after so long, and I think the line weight in his eyes changes or something here. they flicker in some way. 2) MY FAVORITE SCENE HELLO TRAUMA BELOVED OHOHO WHEN CHARACTERS ARE LIKE THIS TO EACH OTHER IM SCARFING DOWN THAT POPCORN EVEN FASTER 👀 when trying to beat up another guy isn't just rough for the heck of it but instead a cinematic narrative into their twisted relationship and psyche, that is beautiful. Idk I can't explain, it's like when ppl write deep meta about conversations one guy has holding a knife to another guy under the chin and pinned to the wall. sometimes it's with a sword. but with more trauma and past history. Wukong is SO angry, and Mac-quackers what were you YAPPING about trying to fight him if this is how scared you get? Better yet, how did you let MK convince you into fighting the one guy capable of and who HAS (quite possibly) killed you and the one demon who tortured you this whole season. Oh speaking of. We kinda 🤔 wonder if LBD literally revived Macky in S1 sometimes since his ep is right after skeleton key, which would be wild, but recently I wonder if LBD was expecting to lose to Wukong since "when the time came" and was waiting for a future comeback, so maybe Macky died/revived BEFORE the Monk sealed her? but then we wonder what he's been doing all this time. he wouldn't be doing *nothing* for centuries and it's been said that he "suddenly came back." So odd indeed. fun fact: after LBD in JTTW is when Wukong leaves to find out that Flower Fruit Mountain burned down, killing many of the monkeys :) :) :) anyways. 🫡 shout out to the fics who have possessed Wukong kill Macky. bro knew what he was doing and walked in anyways. Mr. "I will do anything to stay alive."

3) that gasp :O and "oh I effed up" escape and then getting YOINKED out of his own shadow???? That was COLD. and by the NECK- WUKONG MY GUY. The way he rears back his fist!! the darkness cast over Macky's face as he stares in PTSD, how he shuts his eyes and turns so the one that is ALREADY BLIND gets hit instead. oh right, still gotta write blind Macky fics. but WHERE is that ~ bravado ~ nah, at his core. Macky will crumble when Wukong is genuinely ticked. I wonder how slow his teleporting is, it was so fast with MK you'd think he was letting himself get punished but he seemed too honestly scared for that. ALSO the way Wukong's fist shakes, the tentative way Macky opens one eye heyyy its your buddy Tang to the rescue XD the UGH way that Macky is WHEEZING AND TWITCHING straining my ears to see if there's little noises, he's shaking and Wukong gets angry hearing LBD maybe he gripped his neck tighter, and he just stares and watches Macky squirming in his grip like the pathetic flea he is and then just COLDLY DROPS HIM LIKE AN OLD BAG OF FUR. the plop sound as he hits the ground like a puppet with the strings cut off! And Macky never leaves. Doesn't even back away from Wukong, and mm 👀 here come the faces. strike 1 when Wukong is explaining his *actual* plan. yeah your crazy ex-friend would do that huh. I mean you did say he didn't have a real plan anyways 😆 but it's another thing hearing it from him. a thousand years, and still the same. SPEAKING OF. *knock on door* *opens letter* Yeah alright, I'll wait until the Special to return to this episode. Beautiful stunned look and slow blink at the "we're heroes! it's what we do!" hero speeches making someone's brain explode never gets old. CLEARLY thought something during that instant back step teleport. Sadly I think Wukong's style of jumping off a cliff onto his cloud arms crossed was cooler </3 but ngl, Macky's fighting style is pretty slick next season. and the next. he's so TRIPPY. and Wukong's scream as MK throws himself in danger and the LOOK afterwards it has LAYERS almost like you just watched someone succeed where you failed which ahahaha is literally this entire episode ngl, that's why ShadowPeach is flipping so much with their expressions. what did I say before? oh yeah, so we think their fight happened **after** the journey, so it's confusing to wonder how LBD could have revived Macky while sealed. Hence the S1 theories. Iirc it was the lack of circlet on him in the flashback but hey! these are biased! hence that brief angst genre of memory manipulation fics.

(I am very much looking forwards to the fan content holy shit 👀👀👀)

#faye watches lmk #lmk #faye answers #lmk asks #lmk anon

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lunar-wandering · 3 years ago

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petals for two

finally, here it is. the Shadowpeach non-fatal Hanahaki AU the people have been waiting for.

Word Count: 13k

Read on Ao3

Bajie and Wujing found Wukong kneeling down by the river.

Again.

For the third day in a row.

"...Elder brother?" Wujing asked, watching how Wukong's back and tail stiffened. "Are you...okay?"

"...Just peachy..." Wukong said, but the way he said it was quiet, wheezy, and entirely unconvincing. Bajie quirked an eyebrow.

"Really? Because that's what you've said the last two times now." He said, crossing his arms with a healthy dose of suspicion on his face. "That last fight was pretty bad- y'know it would be pretty unwise of the 'Intelligent Stone Monkey' to be hiding an injury-"

"I said I'm fine!" Wukong snapped, turning around to glare at them with firey red eyes, his fur bristling with anger.

There was a pause, Bajie and Wujing both falling silent as Wukong continued to glare at them-

And then Wukong's hand flew to his mouth, as he turned back around to face the river, his body shaking with muffled coughs. Both Wujing and Bajie rushed to his side, concerned-

Only to freeze as they saw the purple petals slipping through Wukong's fingers, falling into the river and floating downstream. There was a moment of silence, broken only by Wukong's wheezing breaths.

And then they were both kneeling beside him, Wujing rubbing comforting circles on Wukong's back, while Bajie pulled the Monkey King's hand away from his mouth, letting the petals fall freely.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, let them do this, and the three of them quietly watched the petals float away, vanishing as they went around the riverbend.

If Wujing and Bajie noticed the tears running down Wukong's face, they didn't comment on it.

"...I'm sorry." Is what Wujing chose to say, in a soft murmur.

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wukong whispered, for a whisper was all his throat could manage at the time. "I'll be okay."

They all knew he was trying to reassure himself with his words more so than them.

When the three of them returned to their makeshift camp with an apology and a half-baked excuse, Tripitaka barely batted an eye.

Bai Longma, however, stared at a stray petal clinging to Wukong's outfit with a look of knowing.

Miles away, in a cave hidden by shadows, a figure leaned against the cave wall, one hand steadying himself while the other covered the fresh wound to his eye, petals falling out of his mouth as he cursed whoever decided that love could be unrequited.

Hanahaki. The disease of unrequited love.

Or, well, as it was known nowadays, the disease of pining.

Originally, when people were first discovering the disease, they thought it to be only born out of feelings that could never be reciprocated.

As it turns out, that simply wasn't the entire truth.

Overall, about 20% of Hanahaki cases reported end up being due to unrequited love.

The other 80% are due to people who simply, for one reason or another, refuse to confess.

As was recently discovered, about a century or so ago, the one true cure for Hanahaki is to look your beloved in the eyes, and say; "I love you."

As you can imagine, not many people have the courage to do that.

Luckily, the disease has never truly been fatal more than it was a slight hindrance. There even exists some medicines and teas that can reduce the effects of the flowers, although using them comes with its own ballpark of side effects.

Anyways, to make a long story short, MK wasn't surprised to end up meeting someone currently suffering from Hanahaki.

He just hadn't been expecting it to have been the Monkey King.

It hadn't really been obvious at first. Hanahaki will sometimes wither slightly when distanced from whoever the afflicted person has a crush on, but it never really takes much to send the flowers into full bloom again.

MK didn't actually hand out with Wukong a lot, and even when he did, it was only for training, something Mk restlessly focused on in the hopes of getting better at being, well, the Monkey King's successor.

Which was why, when during one of their rare breaks, Wukong froze in shock when MK actually asked him a question (one that, for once, wasn't about training).

"...Monkey King? Do you have any friends?" MK asked.

"Sure I do!" Wukong lied, "Why do you ask?"

"Ah- well-" MK stuttered, staring down at the ground in front of him as he seemed to ponder how to phrase his next sentence. "You just seemed... lonely, I guess."

"Well, I'm not, since I do, in fact, have friends, so. Yeah." Wukong said, crossing his arms as his tail slowly swung back and forth nervously.

"Are your friends from now or before?" MK asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "Actually, did you even have friends before?"

"...Before?"

"Before the Journey to the West." MK elaborated.

"Psh, of course I did!" Wukong said, "Y'know, I was even friends with Demon Bull King back then- you wouldn't believe some of the stories I have about him..."

MK had, in fact, already known about Wukong and Demon Bull King having been friends. Tang had been more than happy to bring that up, multiple times.

But what MK really wanted to know was-

"Was there anybody else?" He asked.

"Of course there was! For example, M-" Wukong started, but very quickly cut himself off, the light in his eyes dulling slightly. MK winced, sensing that he'd somehow stumbled upon a sensitive subject.

Before he could apologize though, Wukong suddenly tensed, before turning and starting to walk away.

"Uh, I'll be right back, I just need to check on the younger monkeys for a moment, okay?" He said. It was an excuse that was easily seen through, but MK couldn't bring himself to mention it.

Similar situations kept happening.

Sometimes it was understandable, like when Wukong would take a second or so to throw a smile back on his face (a smile MK was starting to recognize as fake) whenever MK brought up the subject of the Journey to the West.

Other times, however, it was a little confusing. Like, for example, when after an unspoken kitchen incident, MK had worn a purple jacket to training. (Mei had let him borrow it from her, since his yellow jacket was still in the wash, due to the Kitchen Incident That Shall Not Be Named).

As soon as Wukong had seen the purple jacket, he'd froze, before hastily turning away and running back inside his little house, claiming to have forgotten something.

MK had taken the jacket off and stuffed it into his bag by the time Wukong returned.

It was only after the Macaque fight that things became clear.

They'd been silent, watching the sunrise, and MK had started to doze off, leaning on his mentor's shoulder as he slowly started to fall asleep.

...Only to be jostled back into awareness as Wukong's shoulders shook with barely muffled coughs.

"Are you okay?" MK asked, lifting his head off of Wukong's shoulder and staring at the Monkey King with thinly veiled worry. Wukong leaned away from MK's gaze, a hand still covering his mouth.

He was too busy coughing to give a good response.

"If you broke a rib or something and didn't tell me I'm not going to be very impressed." MK deadpanned. Wukong shook his head 'no' in response, hand still over his mouth despite the fact his coughing fit had already died down. "Well, what is it then?"

MK waited as Wukong seemed to internally debate with himself.

And then the Monkey King slowly removed his hand from his mouth, revealing the petals that he had confined within his palm.

"Oh. Oh!" MK said, realization striking him as the dots connected in his mind. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"I know..." Wukong groaned, placing his head in his hands, not caring about how this caused some of the petals to stick to his face and fur. MK giggled a little over how silly his mentor looked, Wukong glaring at him and sticking one of the petals onto his successor's cheek in response. MK made a noise of disgust as he wiped the petal off of his face.

Far away from the two of them, Macaque stumbled back into his dojo, nursing a new injury, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and holding crushed flower petals in his fist.

Well. Wukong could officially say that he'd never been in a situation like this before.

Tangled up and dangling from the Spider Queen's spiderweb, Wukong tried to distract himself from the feeling of being trapped, unable to move.... by doing his best to observe his surroundings.

There... sure were a lot of other demons here. He couldn't figure out if it was good or bad that he didn't recognize most of them.

Wait.

Wukong looked around the room again with narrowed eyes.

Could Spider Queen have also taken-

No.

Wukong couldn't see him anywhere, not to mention that the other monkey had always been concerned with his own safety first and foremost. He'd probably scrambled to get out of town at the first sign of trouble. Wukong wasn't going to find Macaque in here.

He wasn't sure why he'd even looked.

...And there was that warm, tickly feeling in the back of his throat again.

Wukong squirmed, trying to ignore the sensation for as long as possible. He even started humming, his go to method for repressing the petals, but it barely worked, and a small dose of panic started to overtake him. He had no way of covering up the petals that would come, his arms and hands pinned at his sides.

He would not let Spider Queen or the rest of her crew find out about this, not to mention....her.

(If the Lady Bone Demon found out about his Hanahaki... well, she already has enough leverage as it is. Wukong isn't about to hand over any more.)

And then there was Demon Bull King. Wukong wasn't entirely sure how his old friend, (ex-friend, he reminded himself), would react, and honestly he wasn't too keen on finding out.

Still though.

The flowers always win in the end.

Wukong did his best to duck his head into his shoulder, and hoped it would be enough as his chest was wracked with coughs.

The Demon Bull King was many things, but he was not, in fact, stupid.

He had been quick to notice the growing panic on Wukong's face, (really, the monkey hadn't even tried to hide it, either due to being lost in thought or because he thought nobody was paying close enough attention to notice), and had decided to watch and see what the Monkey King would do next.

He hadn't expected Wukong to turn his head to the side, doing his upmost best to silence his coughing fit.

He'd expected the flower petals even less.

"You, of all people, haven't gathered up the strength to confess?" Demon Bull King asked, startling Wukong right out of his coughing fit. "I did not take you to be a coward."

"I take offense to that." Wukong wheezed, a few more petals falling from his mouth as he spoke. "Besides, I remember you taking forever to confess to Princess Iron Fan-"

"I'm not the one who held my words in long enough for them to take root and bloom." Demon Bull King said, "Who is the object your affections anyways?"

"None of your business." Wukong said, once again squirming within the confines of the webs. Demon Bull King raised an eyebrow, before glancing down at the petals now littering the floor. The flowers typically would hint at who the afflicted had a crush on, but Demon Bull King was too far away to be able to tell what flowers the petals belonged to.

If he were to hazard a guess though...

"The Six Eared Macaque?" He asked, proceeding to find great amusement in how Wukong's fur stood on end, panic flashing on his face. "Ah, so I'm right then-"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, his eyes flashing red. "Seriously, shut up. You can't tell anyone else about this-"

"Tell someone- I see flowers aren't the only nonsense your mouth spits out." Demon Bull King said. The red glow faded slightly from Wukong's eyes, as his expression shifted to confusion, with a small dash of hope.

"You... aren't going to tell anyone?" Wukong asked.

"And loose the precious blackmail material you have graced me with? Of course not!" Demon Bull King laughed, and Wukong sighed, sensing that somehow this would come back to bite him later.

Wukong forced his suitcase shut, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt as MK stared at him, unimpressed. Okay, so maybe 'going on a vacation' wasn't the best excuse to use, but Wukong couldn't afford to waste any time coming up with a better one.

He was ready for MK to be worried about training.

He wasn't ready for Mk to be worried about him.

"...Will you be okay?" MK asked, "I mean, you seem to not want anyone to know about your Hanahaki, but if you're with friends then you'll be surrounded by other people at all times, so-"

"Oh, it'll be fine." Wukong said, waving MK's concerns away. "Besides, if the flowers act up, I'll just rip out my lungs."

"Please do not do that!" MK said, the horrified look on his face making Wukong chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad." He said, "I've done it before."

"That does not make it better!" MK said, looking like he was about to start ranting, and Wukong took that as his cue that it was time to go.

MK pushed the exit door open, stumbling a little as he rushed into the alley way.

"Ugh- why did you do-.....that......" He said, voice trailing off as he registered that the alley way was empty.

Well. Seemingly empty.

One quick check with his true sight later, (he wasn't going to be falling for any tricks again), and MK was holding a dumpster over his head, revealing the shadow monkey that had been crouched down, hiding behind it. Macaque glanced up, his scarf covering his mouth and his fur bristling in shock as MK set the dumpster off to the side.

"So much for you having been a great warrior, huh?" MK said, crossing his arms and staring down at Macaque with an unimpressed expression.

"Uh- ah, so you figured that out, did you? Maybe you aren't as dense as you look." Macaque said, voice slightly raspy, as he stood up, trying to pretend he wasn't just hiding behind a dumpster-

Only for his scarf to slip down a little, allowing some golden flower petals to fall out. Macaque made quick work of snatching them out of the air, crushing them in his grip as he hid them behind his back, tail swishing nervously, but it was too late.

MK had seen.

"...Oh. Oh!" MK said, feeling torn between screaming in frustration or laughing in amusement over what had just been revealed to him. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Macaque said, sighing and breathing out a few more golden petals as he did so, completely unaware of how much this revelation had shaken MK's already very delicate mental state. "Seriously. I don't even know where you got the idea that I'm in love with someone or something like that, because I'm definitely not."

"I never said anything about you being in love." MK said, starting to lean more towards being amused at this entire situation as Macaque stiffened, his tail stilling. "I just said you had terrible taste- maybe I was implying your whole 'performance' with the shadow play back in the theatre was simply lackluster."

"I take offense to that." Macaque hissed, his shadow growing slightly bigger as his tail once again started to thrash back and forth, this time in anger. MK ignored this obvious attempt at intimidation for another question that was on his mind, a much more pressing one, in his opinion.

"You still haven't answered my question from earlier, why did you do that?" He asked, watching as Macaque took a minute to process the question, having not expected the sudden subject change.

"....Why did I do what- Oh! Why did I break the lantern, you mean?" Macaque said, suddenly avoiding eye contact, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab hold of the edge of his scarf as he chewed on the corner of his lip, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. "Well, I was going to do the whole 'watch the hero get tormented by their inner demons and insecurities' thing like all the other villains, but you seem to already be doing that to yourself so- yeah. Didn't want to bother using my own expansive list of abilities when I could just lay back and watch the show you were already putting on for me."

"But I thought you wanted to be center stage, not in the audience. Y'know, because you want to steal the spotlight from Monkey King." MK said, raising an eyebrow as Macaque's hand finally grabbed the edge of his scarf, and he started fiddling with it nervously. "Or well, either that or you want to share a stage with him."

Something must have been brought to the forefront of Macaque's mind when MK said that, as suddenly he was turning away, using his scarf to cover his mouth as he coughed. MK remained standing in front of him, arms crossed, waiting patiently for the shadow monkey's response.

"I- I have no intention of shar- sharing a stage." Macaque eventually wheezed, pulling his scarf back down as he spoke so that he could be heard clearly. MK amusedly noted that he could see some golden petals peeking out from within the confines of the red cloth. "Not now, not before, and not ever."

"Ah, sure, keep telling yourself that." Mk said, staring pointedly at the flower petals.

Macaque flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow!" MK said, recoiling, a hand going to his forehead to try and numb the sting, his eyes closing reflexively as he leaned back. "Why would you do that for-"

MK paused, blinking bewilderedly, as he realized Macaque was no longer in front of him, seemingly having vanished entirely, having used MK's momentary distraction to fade away into the shadows, only a single left behind flower petal revealing that he had ever actually been there.

If MK had used his true sight again then and there, he would've found that Macaque was now resting on top of one of the nearby rooftops.

As it was though, his friends burst through into the alley way, prepped with questions he wasn't ready to answer.

(Later, Macaque would severely regret failing to remember to warn MK of the danger that was approaching him. But that would be later, and now he fully intended on sneaking back into the theatre to retrieve his shadow lantern...)

Life on the ship honestly wasn't all that bad. Sure, MK had lost all of his powers, and there was the ever looming threat of the Lady Bone Demon, but ignoring all of that important stuff?

Life on the ship was actually rather nice.

"You know what? I think I could actually get used to living like this." MK said, leaning against the railing of the ship, letting the wind rustle his hair. Wukong hummed in agreement, sitting on the railing beside his successor.

"...When all this is said and done, we should take a vacation." He said, "A real vacation. Together this time."

"Can I bring my friends with me?" MK wasn't so sure he could handle leaving the others behind after everything that had happened.

"Sure, go right ahead, if that's what you want." Wukong said, shrugging. MK visibly brightened, and an idea struck him.

"Oh- and you could bring your friends along too, you know, the ones I haven't met yet!" He said, and Wukong stiffened.

"....Uh.... about that..." He started, and MK's smile fell, replaced with a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"...You lied about the whole 'having other friends' thing, didn't you." He said, looking his mentor up and down before rolling out another accusation. "You're far lonelier that I thought you were."

"...Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be, Kid." Wukong said, a sad, half-hearted smile on his face. MK tried to come up with a response, either a joke or maybe some comforting words (how do you even comfort an immortal, who has been through so much and had probably heard everything you could possibly say?)-

Only to be completely distracted as the ship was heavily rocked by something crashing into it. MK's grip tightened around the steel railing, steadying himself as he heard the others rush up to the deck, shouting in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, MK could see Wukong scramble to keep himself from falling over the side of the ship. (Which MK had to admit was... strange. Wukong had his whole cloud sail thing, he could fly, why would he be concerned about falling off?)

The rocking stopped, the ship steadying itself, and MK could smell smoke. Cautiously and slowly, he turned around, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of an attack, brought about by the Lady Bone Demon or one of her 'followers' (demons, that she had entranced to think that they were getting a good deal out of this, when in reality all she was doing was using them, with the full intent to throw them aside once they had served their purpose).

MK expected the broken bits and pieces of another, smaller ship, some parts still burning (and really, they should deal with those fire before they became a bigger problem. Sandy seemed to be running to get the fire extinguisher, so hopefully there wouldn't be any fire induced explosions today).

What he hadn't been expecting (but in hindsight, really should have been), was to see Red Son, standing in the center of the debris, nervously dusting the dirt off of his jacket, with Macaque laying face down on the deck behind him.

Red Son was having a very long day. Or, well, it had been about three days, really, but that wasn't the point here.

He brushed the remaining ship debris off of himself, making himself more 'presentable' while also purposefully prolonging the amount of time he could go without meeting the questioning gazes of MK and his friends.

Catching sight of the monkey still laying on the ground behind him, he turned and nudged Macaque with his foot.

"You really aren't making a good impression here." Red Son hissed, under his breath, knowing that the other's exceptional hearing meant that he could easily hear him.

"There truthfully isn't a good impression to be made." Macaque said, voice muffled by both the deck and his scarf, as he continued to lay face down, making no move to get up. "Not to mention, I'm feeling a little... singed, at the moment. Not everyone is as fire proof as you are, you- you hot headed fool."

The shadow monkey had, overall, been a great help in escaping from the Lady Bone Demon's dungeons, but Red Son wasn't past the point of kicking him in the side. Hard.

Macaque yelped in pain, curling up a little as though to shield himself, but continued to not even try to get up.

Red Son was unfortunately stopped from kicking the monkey again as he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with MK and Mei, their expressions completely neutral.

"Ah- Hello, Noodle Boy, Dragon Girl." Red Son said, politely nodding to each of them, trying to ignore his own nervousness (he did not feel like getting thrown off a ship today, thank you very much). MK and Mei said nothing, and Red Son began to wonder for a moment if crashing into their ship twice was somehow crossing a line.

But then both of them smiled, and Red Son braced himself just in time as Mei tackle-hugged him, MK laughing as he watched her do so.

"Wow, you really don't have much luck with vehicles and driving, on the ground or in the air, huh?" MK said, pushing a piece of debris from the miniature ship Red Son had flown in to the side with his foot. "Seriously, it's a wonder you ever managed to pass a driving test with skills like this."

"A driving what?" Red Son asked, immediately regretting it as both MK and Mei fixed him with a look of complete and utter horror.

"Oh heavens." Mei breathed, her grip on Red Son's shoulders growing almost uncomfortably tight. "You entered a race without knowing how to drive."

Too loud.

It was far, far too loud.

Still though, it was much better than being trapped down in the Lady Bone Demon's cold, dark, and desolate dungeons.

Or, at least, that is what Macaque thought to himself, even as he subtly pulled his scarf up over his ears, trying and failing miserably to block out the rumble of the engine, the hiss of the fires from the remains of their ship, the hushed whispers from Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy, and the trio's argument about Red Son's apparently non-existent drivers license.

(If he had known Red Son had never really, truly learned how to drive, Macaque wouldn't have let him pilot their escape ship.

...Albeit, Macaque himself wasn't all that much better, having had no idea as to what over half of the buttons in the ship were actually for.

Still though, he would have at least tried to land a perfect landing, instead of going all out on making sure they, quote, 'crashed in style', like what a certain hot tempered demon did.

Seriously Red Son. What the fuck.)

It took a few more minutes of laying there, trying to block everything out, before he realized that, over the roar of the engines and the trio's arguing, he couldn't hear where Wukong was.

...Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Macaque stiffened as a warm hand landed on his shoulder, its grip alternating between being soothing soft and threateningly tight.

"...Macaque?" Wukong's voice asked, and Macaque felt the unfortunately all too familiar twinge in both his chest and throat.

Ah. It was definitely a bad thing then.

Wukong pulled his hand back as Macaque abruptly stood up, stumbling away from him and towards the side of the ship. For a moment, Wukong genuinely wondered if Macaque planned to just jump off the ship, despite the fact that they were thousands of miles above ground.

But Macaque simply grabbed hold of the railing, leaning slightly over it, his shoulders shaking.

"What's the matter, are you sea sick already?" Mei asked, noticing Macaque's movement. "Or, wait, would it be air sick? Meh, it's probably the same thing..."

Macaque gave no response other than raising his hand to flip her off, which simply made her cackle like a mad man. Wukong would've walked right on over to him and smacked the shadow monkey for the rude gesture-

That is, if he hadn't been already preoccupied with covering up the petals his concern for the other had caused him to start coughing up.

Unseen by either of them, MK glanced back and forth between the two monkeys, seeing how Wukong tucked the petals into the pocket of his shirt, and spotting a few golden ones fluttering away from Macaque, carried by the wind. MK sighed, ignoring how Mei and Red Son, the two closest to him who had noticed his reaction, looked at him in confusion.

It was going to be a really long trip.

Macaque stirred a bowl full of cake mix, deeply lost in his thoughts.

You see, being stuck in a ship, thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by people, especially MK and the others, was a very stressful situation to be in. And unlike back at his dojo, Macaque didn't exactly have any training dummies to take said stress out on.

So, he naturally defaulted to another, less violent technique.

Stress baking.

Macaque had waited patiently in the shadows until Pigsy had left the kitchen to join the others up on the deck, and then had promptly taken over the entire room.

...He wasn't sure why he decided to make a chocolate cake though. He had really just been going through the motions, using the first thing he saw or what was directly in front of him, not feeling like putting in the effort to really search for anything else.

Well, at least thus far only MK had stumbled upon him like this, and the Monkey King's successor had been easily chased away by a purple glare and a hissed threat.

'...Although...' Macaque thought, stirring slowing down slightly as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, approaching him. 'Maybe saying that I was poisoning everything in the kitchen wasn't the best choice of threat.'

He very nearly dropped the bowl when Wukong entered the room.

"So." Wukong said, leaping up onto the counter and sitting down, cross-legged. "Poison, huh?"

Well. He might as well go along with it. No use in changing his excuse now.

"Yep." Macaque said, taking the spoon out of the bowl as he gestured at the room. "I'm so one hundred percent done with all of you, so I have decided to poison all of you. Finally get rid of the noise, have a bit of peace, you know?"

As he said this, he made the mistake of putting the spoon within Wukong's reach.

The Monkey King, spurred by nothing but his own impulsivity, leaned forwards and casually licked the edge of the spoon.

Macaque pulled the utensil back at record breaking speeds (he avoided putting it back into the bowl, he knew far better than to do that) and proceeded to stare at Wukong with the most offended expression he could manage.

Wukong completely ignored it.

"Your 'poison' happens to taste an awful lot like chocolate." He said, taking a glance around the kitchen, noting all the ingredients on the kitchen island, before looking Macaque up and down. "...Stress baking?"

"Poison." Macaque corrected, glaring at the other as he got a new spoon to stir with. "I'm making poison."

"...Poison for yourself, maybe." Wukong said, looking thoughtful, "If I remember right, you can't eat chocolate, can you?"

Macaque didn't bother to grace him with a response, instead turning his back to the other monkey, continuing to mix more ingredients into the bowl. It was blessedly silent for a while, but-

With Wukong sitting right behind him, watching his every move, even stress baking wasn't able to help Macaque relax.

Not to mention the flowers in his chest that were once again begging to make themselves known.

Macaque forced the flurry of emotions and petals back down as much as he could. He flicked an ear, listening behind him.

Wukong was still there. Why was he still there-

Macaque slammed the bowl down on the kitchen island, barely avoiding chipping it, and taking brief pleasure in how he could hear the Wukong's breath catch, before the Monkey King descended into a small coughing fit, probably from surprise at the shadow monkey's sudden movements. Macaque turned back around to face Wukong, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed, his tail swishing back and forth from agitation. Wukong's tail swished too, but Macaque could tell that his was a sign of nervousness.

"Ah, oh nothing." Wukong said, his hands behind his back as his legs swayed back and forth over the counter. "Just making sure you don't actually decide to poison anything."

"If I had poison, you and I both know that I would have used it already." Macaque said, "I don't even think there's anything I could even use as poison on this ship."

"...Point taken." Wukong said, leaning forwards and resting his chin on his right hand.

(He kept his other hand tucked in behind his back. Macaque did pick up on Wukong seemingly acting suspicious, but was far too focused on trying to get the Monkey King out of the kitchen to actually think much of it.

Something that Wukong was extremely grateful for, as it gave him the time to actually hide the crushed flower petals in his palm within one of his pockets.)

"Um, so uh, how do you know if the kid and the others are all okay?" Macaque asked, deciding to try a new tactic of getting Wukong out of the kitchen, hoping that the Monkey King's stupid over-protectiveness would prompt him to leave the room, which would let Macaque finally bake in peace.

"Oh, I left a hair clone with them." Wukong said, and Macaque slumped, his hopes dashed. "...Say, on a different subject, how do you know if it tastes good?"

"Huh?" Macaque asked, befuddled for a moment before remembering the cake bowl on the table behind him. "Oh- the cake? Well, I don't know really, usually I just sell it or something... Not that I really do this often, mind you! This isn't- I don't- I'm- wait. You want to taste test it more, to get free samples, don't you?"

Wukong simply gave a non-commital shrug, but the smirk on his face gave his intentions away. Macaque sighed wearily, before pulling a smaller spoon out of a nearby drawer with his tail, scooping a bit of cake batter into it, and tossing the spoon at Wukong, mentally willing the utensil to hit the Monkey King smack dab on the forehead.

The utensil, unfortunately, did not, in fact, obey Macaque's wills, as Wukong caught it with ease, and started licking the cake batter off of it, his tail wagging happily.

Macaque bit the inside of his cheek, nearly drawing blood as he used the pain to push the flowers in his throat back down, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he realized just how... cute the other looked in the current moment.

...No, nope, absolutely not-

Macaque spun back around, throwing himself entirely into the task of mixing the last of the ingredients together, and doing his upmost best to ignore the monkey sitting behind him.

Wukong's incessant humming was absolutely not helping in any way shape or form.

Things continued on, Macaque making the cake and occasionally tossing a batter covered spoon over his shoulder so that Wukong could taste it.

(Macaque silently told himself that he was doing it in the hopes that Wukong would become satisfied and leave, already-

But, deep down, he knew it was just because he liked seeing the other monkey happy.)

Macaque dumped the cake batter into a pan, setting the now empty mixing bowl off to the side before shoving the pan into the oven, and setting a small timer.

When he looked back over to where he had placed the mixing bowl, fully intent on washing it and proceeding to use it to make some icing, the bowl was gone.

"What the-" He started, looking around bewildered, before realizing what must have happened.

Sure enough, Wukong had the bowl on his lap, and was using a spoon to scrape the remaining cake batter out of it, to eat.

"...It's not like you were gonna use it anymore... right?" Wukong asked, almost looking sheepish as he realized Macaque was staring at him, and he curled around the bowl protectively.

Macaque glared at him, using his magic to make his eyes flash purple and make the room grow slightly darker.

"Get out of my kitchen before I retract my truce card and cash in on punching you in the face." He threatened.

Although the threat didn't hold much weight (Macaque would probably end up breaking his hand punching Wukong before he could ever hope to actually injure the other) Wukong still scrambled to get out of the room, taking the bowl and spoon with him as he went.

As Wukong rushed pass Macaque in his haste to leave, their tails lightly brushed together.

And that was the last straw for Macaque, who, once he was sure the other was gone, hurried to turn on the sink to cover up the sound of his coughing.

'..........Stupid monkey....' Macaque thought, leaning over the sink and watching flour and flowers go down the drain.

MK found Wukong in the hallway, with petals falling out of both the Monkey King's pocket and his mouth. He seemed to be spacing out, lost within his own thoughts.

He was still carrying the mixing bowl.

"...So I take it you didn't confess to Macaque?" MK asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"What- no- why on Earth would I confess?" Wukong asked, snapping out of his reverie. MK merely shrugged in response, but mentally he cursed.

'I was so sure that baking together would settle this whole mess once and for all.' He thought, watching as Wukong balance his bowl in one hand and softly rubbed a spot on his tail with the other. 'I guess it's back to the drawing board...

....Maybe the others would have some ideas?'

"How to get someone with Hanahaki to confess?" Tang asked, setting his book to the side. "MK, you know that's not really a thing you can force, I mean, look at how long it took Pigsy and I-"

"I know, I know, the both of you have told me about your confession, and how long it took to get there, multiple times." MK said, rolling his eyes. "But like, this is worse than you guys, which honestly, before now I didn't think it was possible, but. This has been going on for centuries."

"...I feel like there's a majorly important piece of information I'm missing here." Tang said, leaning forwards with renewed interest. "Who, exactly, has Hanahaki?"

MK paused, debating for a moment on whether or not he should actually tell him.

But, well, it was kind of obvious, and he seriously needed help getting the two of them together, so-

"Monkey King and Macaque." MK said, before adding, for clarification; "Both of them have it. For each other."

"Oh. Oh, that makes so much sense." Tang said, sounding as though pieces of a centuries old puzzle had magically connected right before his eyes. "...I'm sorry though, I can't help you."

"...Oh. Okay, I'll just ask someone else then-"

"However. I am not opposed to starting a betting pool."

"Hanahaki? Why would I know anything about Hanahaki?" Red Son asked, sounding oddly nervous as MK stood in the door way to his room. "...Why are you even asking me about it anyways?"

"Because Monkey King and Macaque have been pining for centuries, even back during the Journey to the West if the stories from Mei's great grandfather are to be believed, and while I've only been witness to a small portion of it, and I guess it's kinda been amusing, I am so done with it, like-" MK waved his hands around in frustration. "Why won't they just confess already?!"

"...I'm....sure they have their reasons." Red Son said, "What... did Mei say, about this, exactly?"

"Oh, she just laughed when I told her about it, and then cemented her place in the betting pool." MK said.

"There's a betting- Noodle Boy, why didn't you start with the betting pool?!"

Red Son had, in fact, already known about Macaque's Hanahaki.

That kind of thing was a little hard to miss when you're locked up in a cell with someone for an extended period of time.

Finding out Wukong also had Hanahaki came as a little bit of a surprise (though, really, now that he knew about it, it was kind of obvious, but as they say, 20/20 hindsight-).

Outside of making bets though, Red Son was mostly content to just sit back and watch the two monkeys stumble around each other. Sure, he did think their inability to confess made them cowards, but.

At least MK was too wrapped up in his frustration over the monkeys drama to notice the fire demon coughing up smoke and petals behind him.

Wukong slowly sneaked into the room, as quietly as he possibly could. Staying low to the ground, he tip toed over to the shelf, cautiously reaching up-

Only for someone to grab a hold of his hand, stopping him from reaching his prize. A nearby lamp flicked on, and Wukong looked up to see Sandy intently staring down at him.

"...Hi." Wukong said, laughing nervously as he slipped his hand out of Sandy's grip. "Um. I totally wasn't sneaking around or anything, I was just... sleep walking?"

"...I see." Sandy said, reaching over and taking one of the tea tins off of the shelf. "In that case, this one right here will do wonders to improve your sleep-"

"Ah, oh, no thank you, it's fine, I can handle it." Wukong said, subtly scanning the shelf of teas, slumping slightly when he couldn't seem to find the one that he wanted. Upon seeing the monkey's dejected face, Sandy sighed.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, pulling a tin of tea out from behind his back. Wukong looked at it in shock.

"How'd you-" He started.

"It was just a lucky guess." Sandy said, setting the tin in Wukong's waiting hands. "Use it sparingly though, I'm running a little low on supplies right now. Oh, and be careful with the side effects, okay? Stop taking it if anything seriously bad starts to happen."

"...Thank you." Wukong said, pocketing the tea tin and turning to leave Sandy's room.

"Oh, one more thing." Sandy said, causing Wukong to pause mid-step. "The next time you try sneaking around in the dark, use a stronger glamour over your eyes. The glow seriously gives you away."

"...Duly noted."

It smelled like smoke.

That was the first thing Macaque noticed as he stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the storage room. Immediately, he tensed up, his fur standing on end. After all, where there was smoke, there was usually fire as well. And although Macaque would never, never admit it... he wasn't exactly the most... fond of fire.

(A capture hero, trapped and unaware.

A burning mountain, the air choked by smoke.

And an abandoned warrior, trying desperately to escape the mountain's flames.)

But... Macaque couldn't hear any of the noises that usually accompanied something burning. Instead all he could hear was someone's slightly irregular heart beat, and their wheezing breaths.

Macaque forced himself to walk forwards, curiosity starting to over power his caution.

He rounded the shelf of boxes just in time to see Red Son cough out more smoke, along with a few burnt petals.

Macaque paused, knowing the other had yet to actually see him, as he pondered what to do next. His hands twitched towards the edge of his scarf, but he kept himself frozen.

On the one hand, he could just turn around and leave before Red Son could even notice him. As was said before, Macaque was truly not very fond of fire, and despite having spent at least two days trapped with the fire demon, Macaque hadn't really gotten over his general...wariness of him.

On the other hand though, now that he'd seen the other demon, Macaque's curiosity was peaked.

...Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so-

"Who's it for?" Macaque asked, chuckling a little to himself as Red Son startled, finally noticing the other's presence.

"What?" He asked, looking at the shadow monkey in shock and confusion.

"Your Hanahaki." Macaque elaborated, "Who is it for, Mei or MK?"

Red Son remained silent for another moment, blinking in confusion, before the question, along with what was currently happening, seemed to register within his brain, and a furious blush over took his face, a few sparks flying off of him.

(At the sight of said sparks, Macaque took a hesitant step back, glancing around for anything that was possibly flammable.

Red Son was far too wrapped up within his own emotions to notice the monkey's anxiety.)

He sputtered for a moment, struggling and failing to come up with a proper response.

"...Both. It's, It's both of them." He eventually muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with Macaque as he shyly rubbed his arm.

"What was that? Sorry, I didn't hear you the first time, could you say that again?" Macaque said, not at all surprised by this new development and instantly deciding that now was the perfect opportunity to mess with the fire demon.

"You damn well did hear me and we both know it." Red Son said, shifting from flustered to angry in the blink of an eye.

...Macaque outright laughed at hm.

"Oh, oh, like you're one to laugh." Red Son said, "I know all about your thing for Monkey King. You're in the same boat as I am, both literally and figuratively."

"...Okay, first of all, we are in an airship, not a boat." Macaque said, leaning 'casually' against a wall of supply boxes. "Secondly- I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Why haven't you confessed yet?" Red Son said, moving on with his line of thinking and completely ignoring the shadow monkey's denial.

"Conf- I, I could ask you the exact same question!" Macaque said, caught off guard before pulling himself together and recovering. "Why haven't you confessed?"

"I, am simply waiting for the right time. I'm planning a big romantic gesture, I'll have you know." Red Son said, "You, on the other hand, are simply being a pining idiot."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque denied yet again, a slight growl making it's way into his voice as his eyes flashed purple.

Red Son wasn't impressed.

"Your pitiful attempts at denial and intimidation have little to no effect on me." He said, "Seriously, just admit that you're in love with Monkey King already. Pretty much everyone else already knows about it."

"...I won't say I'm in love."

"Do not start the random musical numbers again, you already did it far too many times when we were trapped together in that cell, and if I have to bear one more minute of it I will not hesitate to toss you overboard."

The tea was bitter.

Very bitter.

Still though, it tasted leagues better than weed killer, which had been a not very well though through experience that Wukong never ever wanted to repeat.

And the tea worked better too, repressing, the flowers better than humming or the previously stated weed killer ever could.

Still though, there was a reason as to why Wukong had never opted to try this method before.

Said reason, of course, being the side effects.

He sighed, staring at how there were now purple flecks within his red eyes. Nothing that his usual glamours couldn't cover, but his magic was dwindling fast. He would have to start cutting a few corners soon if he didn't want to end up completely and utterly powerless, and the glamours concealing his height and eye colour would probably end up having to be the first ones to go.

Other than that though, it was concerning that the eye colour change was happening so soon, not to mention the speed at which it was progressing. A change in eye colour was the most common starting side effect of repressing Hanahaki, after that... things start to tend to become strange and rather unpredictable. The list of side effects caused by repressing Hanahaki was miles long, and was always having new things added to it- the reaction seemed to always depend on the person.

Basically, Wukong had literally no idea of what the side effect would be for him, nor how he could prepare for them.

And, of course, this meant he wouldn't be able to know how to hide them either.

When Wukong woke up the next morning and found that his eyes had already turned fully purple, a faint sense of unease settled itself over him like how a morning mist settles in a forest. He supposed he should've expected this to happen quick, he was repressing thousands of years of pining after all, but still, he hadn't been expecting it to progress this fast....

He felt fine though, nothing different than usual. (He did feel a bit weaker, but that had already been happening before the tea. No, that was something else.) For a moment he wondered if his immortality had made him completely immune to any possible side effects, but immediately shot that idea down, as if that had been the case, his eyes wouldn't have changed colour at all.

Wukong exited his room, throwing his usual glamours back on just in case, and made his way to the ship's kitchen as quietly as possible, he'd awoken a bit earlier than usual this morning, and didn't want to accidentally wake any of the others up.

Warming up the kettle and taking the tea tin out of the pocket (he sadly noted that it was almost empty already), he carefully followed the instructions on the side of the tin, not wanting to mess anything up and risk the tea not working.

A few minutes later, and Wukong sat at the kitchen table, spacing out a little as he slowly sipped his Hanahaki Repressing Tea.

He was starting to almost fall asleep in his chair when Pigsy entered the kitchen.

"Morning." Pigsy greeted, looking Wukong up and down with a mix of worry and suspicion. "You're not usually up this early, is something wrong?"

'No, I'm fine, perfectly fine.' Was what Wukong wanted to say.

Instead though, no sound left his mouth at all.

Oh.

Oh shit.

It wasn't every day that someone say Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, speechless.

Today, however, seemed to be one of the days where he was.

Pigsy watched as Wukong's mouth clicked shut, panic briefly flashing across his face before being replaced with an easily recognizable nervous smile as the monkey drew his tea cup closer to himself, as though to hide it. Pigsy rolled his eyes, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Wukong, immediately noticing how the monkey avoided eye contact entirely.

"Experiencing the side effects, huh?" Pigsy asked, "Don't give me that surprised look. Even if Sandy hadn't told me about you taking the tea, you're being rather obvious right now."

Wukong visibly winced at that, sipping his tea again.

"How exactly do you plan to get through the day without being able to talk huh?" Pigsy asked, leaning forwards slightly. "Surely you must have some plan prepared."

Wukong started to shake his head no, to show that he didn't, in fact, have any plan here, but then he paused, looking thoughtful.

A sudden pang ran through Pigsy's mind, and he gripped the sides of his head, looking down at the table as he winced, trying to collect himself, feeling as though he'd been set off balance.

"-an you hear me?" Wukong's voice was faint and echoey, before growing stronger. "Can you hear me? Hello-"

"Yes I can fucking hear you." Pigsy said, looking back up, and proceeding to be almost shocked (but at the same time really not) to find that there were now two Wukong's sitting across from him. The new Wukong was obviously Wukong's golden astral projection form, as it perfectly matched how MK had described it.

Or well, it almost matched perfectly...

"Oh, good." Wukong said, via astral connection, "I wasn't sure this would work, but since it does I can just talk to the others like this-"

"Does this form of yours normally look like.... well, that?" Pigsy asked, interrupting.

"...What?" Wukong took a moment to analyze his astral form.

Unlike MK's description of it being 'Monkey King but in gold, like a shiny pokemon', Wukong currently had three tails, one pink, one red, and one purple. Said colours were also splashed all over his astral body, almost giving him a sunset-like appearance.

"...Huh. That's new." Wukong said, "I guess the side effects go deeper than I thought."

"Is this something we should be more concerned about?" Pigsy asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, no, it's fine. At least, it's far better compared to everything else. Maybe. Probably." Wukong said, the nervous smile on both his real self and his astral self growing slightly bigger.

"...Everything else? Probably?" Pigsy questioned, sitting up straighter with worry.

"...Ah, you weren't meant to hear that part." Wukong said, wincing. "Which I suppose that means it's time for me to go-"

"Hey, wait-" Pigsy started, but didn't manage to get any words out as Wukong abruptly closed the astral connection, before standing up and leaving the room faster than the other could ever hope to follow. Pigsy sighed as he caught the barest glimpse of Wukong's tail going out the door.

That damn monkey was definitely going to need a serious intervention one of these days.

"Monkey King this is an intervention." MK said, crossing his arms as he tried to do his best impersonation of one of Tang's infamous glares. He assumed he failed miserably, given Mei's muffled snickering, but Wukong at least shrunk down sheepishly, so he must've been doing something right.

MK sighed as a pang ran through his head, having expected it- before blinking in shock at the astral image that now stood before him.

"Why do I need an intervention? I'm perfectly fine." Wukong said, both his real self and his astral self smiling nervously- and the three other astral copies of him mimicked the motion. One was pink, one was purple, and one was red. They were each surrounded by a faint golden glow, and were each connected to the main golden astral version of Wukong by their tails.

"You- you are definitely not fine!" MK shouted, still having not recovered from the shock, and wasn't given any more time to try and process what he was seeing as the three bonus Wukong's started speaking.

"Shit." The red one hissed, frustration in his voice. "Fuck." (MK blinks, shocked to hear any version of his mentor swear, and immediately decides to smack Wukong on the arm the next time his mentor tries to reprimand him for swearing.)

"At least he's learning how to read people better, now he won't get tricked as easily." The pink one said, sounding almost....proud?

"I won't be able to trick him anymore either- He's catching on. He's starting to catch on now-" The purple one said, panicked. "I need to lie, lie lie lie-"

"Once again, I don't know what you're talking about." The golden, normal Wukong insisted, seemingly ignorant to the existence of the others.

MK had, of course, set up this intervention to talk about how Wukong tended to repress his emotions, (specifically those concerning a certain shadow monkey), but he definitely hadn't been prepared for... whatever all this is.

"Are you fucking seeing this?" He asked Mei.

"I'm not seeing shit." Mei said, wrapping her arm around MK's shoulder and lightly knocking their heads together, as though doing so would transfer the images that MK was seeing into her own brain.

"Language." All four astral Wukong's said, in perfect unison, and MK reached over and smacked the real Wukong on the arm for his hypocrisy.

The hastily put together intervention steadily went downhill from that point forwards, Mei complaining about not having been let in to the Astral Connection, and Wukong closing said connection the instant that MK had revealed the existence of the astral copies to him. The Monkey King had left the room rather swiftly after that, and MK sighed, for what seemed to be the millionth time since he'd found out about his mentor's Hanahaki.

He would have to do a much better, and much more well put together intervention next time.

Wukong ended up running out of tea the next day.

On the one hand, this was a good thing, as it meant he would only have to wait a day or so for the side effects to finally wear off, and he could go back to actually speaking again.

But on the other hand, this meant that he'd be back to coughing up flowers again, much, much sooner than he would like.

Wukong sighed, leaning against the railing of the ship, watching the sunset. He could probably jump off the ship and find the materials needed to make the tea himself, but without his cloud sail, it would certainly cost him precious time.

Time that he currently absolutely could not waste.

So he resigned himself to what would have to happen, and tried to mentally prepare himself for the flowers that would return within the next twenty four hours.

.....For some reason, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched....

In his many years of having known Wukong, Macaque had never seen him be quiet.

But he sure was quiet now, leaning against the ship railing, peacefully watching the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

(The fading colours of the sun reflected perfectly off of Wukong's fur, covering the other in golds, red, purples, and pinks, and overall making him look really pre-

No, nope, Macaque absolutely could not think about that right now, if he started coughing up flowers here and now it was sure to be noticed, and he absolutely couldn't have that happen.)

Macaque really wanted to consider the silence a blessing, finally, a break from the seemingly endless amount of chitter-chatter-

But instead, he couldn't help but feel worried.

Sliding back down to hide behind the crate he'd been sitting on before Wukong had come out onto the deck twenty minutes ago, Macaque lightly chewed on the edge of his scarf, thinking.

Option one: he waltzes over there, throws on a Perfect Smile, and asks Wukong what's wrong. Maybe he could even throw in a jab or two, or say it sarcastically in order to hide his very real concern.

Option two: he sneaks past Wukong, reenters the ship, and hides out inside of his room until he feels confident enough that these stupid emotions have passed.

Macaque was just deciding on option two- when the shadows surrounding him shifted.

Glancing up, he found that Wukong was now holding the crate the shadow monkey had been hiding behind over his head, and was staring down at him, unimpressed.

"...Hi?" Macaque said, letting the edge of his scarf fall out of his mouth and glamouring away any sign that he'd been chewing on it in the first place. "Um. Fancy meeting you here?"

If possible, Wukong's unimpressed look deepened.

"I was- I was here first, I'll have you know." Macaque said, hurriedly standing up, brushing non-existent dirt off of his clothes. "I don't really appreciate you encroaching on my personal space."

Wukong's expression did not waver, but he did set the crate down to the side, so at least Macaque no longer had to worry about having it be thrown at him. Still though, Wukong continued to stare, so maybe he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"So uh, what's with the whole silent act, huh?" Macaque asked, trying his best to be nonchalant about it. He hoped the response would be something meaningless, like a silly little bet or something along those lines.

He didn't expect to receive no verbal response at all, with Wukong's expression shifting away from unimpressed to something Macaque immediately identified as nervous.

Which....probably meant that this really was something to be concerned about.

Which probably also meant that asking any more about it would eventually result in some kind of long, emotional talk, which absolutely was not Macaque's forte.

...Well, he'd been planning to go with option number two from the beginning, so-

"Welp, this was a nice talk." Macaque said, "But, unfortunately, I have some other stuff that need to be tended to so.... bye!"

And with that, Macaque awkwardly flashed a peace sign, before falling down into the shadows, reappearing within the comforts of his own room. Deciding that he'd definitely had enough for one day, he crawled into his bed, pulling the covers over his head and trying his best to banish any thoughts of Wukong from his mind as he fell asleep.

He'd tried to sleep.

Really, he'd tried.

But after his third petal coughing fit of the night (courtesy of his brain refusing to forget how beautiful Wukong looked in the light of the sunset), Macaque gave up.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the couch, staring at the shadows on the wall, letting his mind play tricks on himself, making it seem like the darkness was moving.

He startled when he heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway.

Macaque wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been up for, but something told him that it was still far too early for even the early-risers to be up and about.

It was at the exact moment that someone sluggishly entered the room that Macaque remembered his glamours were down, and he tensed, knowing it was far too late and that he was far too tired to throw them on now.

He relaxed ever so slightly once he realized that the one who had entered the room had seen him glamourless multiple times before.

...Still though. What was Wukong doing up so late?

"...Got nightmares? I hope they're all about me." Macaque said, almost instantly cringing at the words coming out of his mouth, wanting to take them back and shove them into whatever sleep deprived corner of his mind they had come from.

Funnily enough though, Wukong didn't react at all, there wasn't even a small twitch of the ear or tilt of the head to even indicate that the other had even heard him.

There was a beat of silence, and Macaque chewed on the edge of his scarf, distracting himself from the awkwardness of it all by focusing on the sounds of the ship at night.

The beeping of the autopilot, the whir of the engines, the quiet sleeping sounds of the others, Wukong's steady, slow heart beat...

His.... slow heart beat...

"Oh" Macaque breathed, his voice partially muffled as he still had part of his scarf in his mouth. "You're sleep walking."

A contradictory mixture of concern and relief flooded through him at this realization. For a moment he just sat there, watching as Wukong continued to sluggishly make his way around the room.

And then Wukong bumped into the edge of the coffee table, and Macaque got up in record time, ready to catch the other if he fell-

Only to pull himself back as Wukong righted himself, still fast asleep. Macaque sighed, sitting back down on the couch. Why had he even been worried? There was literally nothing to worry about here, Wukong was literally invulnerable, he'd be fine. This was fine.

He rescinded that thought when Wukong suddenly turned, slowly but surely making his way towards Macaque. The shadow monkey watched the other's approach warily, stiffening when Wukog clumsily crawled onto the couch beside him.

Macaque stayed as still as possible, practically frozen, and partially hoping Wukong would get back up and sleep walk his way back to his own bed.

That, of course, didn't happen, and Macaque barely bit back a gasp, the edge of his scarf falling from his mouth to rest on his lap, as Wukong's tail found and curled around Macaque's own.

'Okay.' Macaque thought, feeling the flowers surge within his chest, as well as a faint tingling sensation covering most of his body (it had been a while, since he'd had any positive affection). 'Okay. I can handle this.'

And then Wukong leaned against him, his head resting on Macaque's shoulder.

'I can not handle this.'

When Wukong woke up in the early morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was not, in fact, in his bedroom.

'Ah. I slept walked again.' He thought, wincing, slowly pushing himself up. '...At least I didn't collapse in the middle of the hallway or inside of MK's room this time...'

The second thing he noticed was fabric sliding off of him, landing in a pool on the floor.

Leaning over and picking it up, he instantly identified it as Macaque's scarf.

He'd. Been sleeping while curled around Macaque's scarf.....

Almost immediately, he started coughing, purple petals falling from his mouth.

'Well. There goes the last effects of the tea.'

(When Macaque opened his door later on in the after noon, he would find his scarf sitting on the floor in front of him, perfectly folded.

He would find a singular purple petal within it upon unfolding it, but immediately dismiss it as being unimportant.)

"Why is it a forest, why did the engine need to malfunction and land us in a forest." Macaque complained, laying in the shadow of a tree, staring up into the branches as though the tree would give him an answer.

"Hey, it's better than a mountain." Wukong said, setting down a glass of lemonade beside the other monkey, before turning to hand another one off to Tang. (Pigsy had, for reasons unknown, made Wukong act as his waiter for the day. Nobody was quite sure why, and from the way Wukong glared whenever the subject was brought up, they figured it was best not to ask). "Can you hear how MK and the others are doing though, they've been gone for a while..."

"Why don't you just use your cloud to go check on them?" Macaque groaned, but still did what had been asked of him, tilting his head to the side, listening intently. After a moment, he was able to pin point the trio's voices. As for what they were saying....

Macaque smirked.

"They're fine." He said, "Although, they might be another few minutes before they come back."

When the trio came out of the forest wearing flower crowns, Macaque mentally cheered.

(After somebody with Hanahaki confesses, the flowers need somewhere to go. Usually they simply pop out of the ground around the person who has confessed.

It was a popular tradition to make and wear flower crowns using said flowers if your love was reciprocated.)

"Oh, did Red Son finally confess?" Tang asked, "We've been waiting on that for like. Ever."

"Oh heavens- Was I the only one who didn't know?" MK said, hiding his face in his hands.

"Oh no, I don't think Monkey King here knew either." Sandy said, lightly patting Wukong on the head. Wukong had been adorned with a look of utter shock since the trio had returned, but now he finally broke out of his surprise, and before the trio could even think to move, Wukong had grabbed hold of them, lifting them up a little in an excited hug.

"Oh my gosh- I'm so happy for you!" He said, only putting them down as Red Son started struggling. "We've- we've gotta throw a party- Pigsy can we throw a party-"

Macaque rolled his eyes, blocking out the current party planning, going back to staring at the sky through the tree branches.

"...Macaque."

Macaque looked over to see Red Son standing beside him.

"...Yes?" Macaque asked.

"...I'm braver than you are."

"What the fuck does that mean-"

Of course, Wukong had ended up deciding that they couldn't have the party on the ship. For some reason or another, he was utterly convinced that this party had to be big, which, of course, meant that there had to be a large space to hold it in.

...Had the situation been different, he would've brought everyone to Flower Fruit Mountain.

As it was, he found the next best thing.

"How the fuck did you know about my family hide out?" Red Son asked, watched as Wukong knocked three times on the door.

"You forget I was friends with your father, Red Boy." Wukong said, sending Red Son a smirk. "Oh, and watch your language."

The rest of the group stood slightly behind them, some of them prepared to run away if, somehow, this went awry.

Luckily enough, they didn't have to worry. Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan took the fact that Red Son was now dating his former enemies surprisingly well, and were fully willing to let them use the base to hold a party.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, ended up being the one to regret the decision to come here, the realization that maybe he had made a mistake hitting when Demon Bull King grabbed him by the back of his scarf, lifting him into the air. Wukong went slack immediately, knowing that struggling would be futile.

"The rest of you can keep sorting things out." Demon Bull King said, "I would like to have a few.... words with the simian."

And with that he turned, walking out of the room and bringing Wukong with him.

Demon Bull King entered a smaller room, reaching and closing the door behind him as he did so. Unceremoniously, he let go of Wukong's scarf and let the monkey drop down to the floor. Wukong let out an 'oof' as he hit the solid concrete.

"Ow." He hissed, glaring up at Demon Bull King. "Ya could have been a little more gentle there, Bull King."

"You can handle it." Demon Bull King said, "Now, onto the real matter of business. You haven't confessed yet, have you."

"What? Oh, is that what this is all about- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about." Wukong said, laughing nervously. Demon Bull King stared down at him, unimpressed.

"So I'm right, you really still haven't confessed." Demon Bull King sighed, "Really, I expected better from you. Oh well, I suppose it is a good thing that my son is braver than you, not that that's very hard."

"Ouch." Wukong said, slightly jokingly. "You...really aren't pulling back your punches today huh."

"You trapped me under a mountain. I can be permitted to throw a few heavy hits." Demon Bull King said, "As it is though, if you do not confess sooner rather than later, you may miss your chance."

"Huh?"

"Do not make me out to be a fool, Sun Wukong. I can see the way your body grows weaker." Demon Bull King stared pointedly at a scrape Wukong had gotten on his hand when he'd been dropped onto the floor. Wukong, following the other's gaze, hid it behind his back. "You can't hide it from me. A month ago that fall would've been nothing to you. The Lady Bone Demon has affected you more than you're letting on."

"...So what if she has?" Wukong asked, "It's fine, it doesn't really mean anything, my powers will come back to their full strength sooner or later, you know."

"When I carried you, you weighed a little heavier than you used to."

"Hey now, don't go making comments about my weight!" Wukong said, letting the glamour on his eyes drop so that he could give Demon Bull King the red-eyed glare. "Seriously, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but just, drop it, okay?"

"...If that is what you wish." Demon Bull King sighed, opening the door and standing slightly to the side in order to let Wukong through first. "Promise me one thing though, for the sake of our old friendship."

"...Of course."

"Please confess before the time runs out."

"I'll... I'll try."

The party had been great.

In fact, the party had been spectacular.

Which was why, of course, that merely a week after the party, their luck seemingly ran out.

One of the Lady Bone Demon's 'followers' attacked the group during a supply run. Somehow, someway, Wukong and Macaque had managed to draw it away from the others, giving the rest of the group ample time to get the ship loaded and get everyone to a safe place.

Now all the two monkeys had to do was find a way for themselves to escape.

Macaque ducked under a wave of magic, glancing over at Wukong, hoping that the other would have some kind of plan.

He could immediately tell from the look on the other's face that he did not, in fact, have any sort of plan.

Macaque kept dodging as he watched Wukong impulsively take the offensive, sliding under a wave of magic, running up and jumping to kick the demon in the face- Only for the demon to catch him by the foot, spinning him around and tossing him. Wukong's back slammed against the mountain they'd ended up fighting beside, and he fell onto one knee for a moment.

And then he slowly stood back up, his fur messed up. He used his sleeve to wipe some blood away from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning red and oh-

Oh, that was kinda hot-

Macaque immediately cursed letting himself get distracted, as the flowers grew in his chest, and he stumbled, wheezing as a few golden petals fell out of his mouth.

A wave of magic hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground and sending him skidding over to where Wukong now stood.

"Shit- are you okay?" Wukong asked, keeping one eye on the demon, who simply watched them in slight amusement, as he helped the shadow monkey back to his feet. Macaque glanced between the demon and Wukong, feeling the flowers in both his throat and his mouth.

Fuck, he wouldn't be able to win this fight if he stayed like this, in this state.

...Which only left him one option.

Taking only the barest of seconds to prepare himself, Macaque grabbed a hold of both side of Wukong's face, ignoring the monkey's confused squeak as he made sure their eyes met.

"I love you." Macaque said, a single petal falling out of his mouth.

"...I love you too?" Wukong said, confusion and shock filling his face.

"Wait, what?" Macaque asked, but was given no time to question it as the demon seemingly had enough of waiting, and threw a whip of magic at them, the two monkeys having to separate from each other and leap to different sides in order to avoid the attack. As the dust from the attack settled, Macaque locked eyes with Wukong again, the Monkey King's face coloured with a blush, looking shocked, and Macaque was sure the expression was reflected on his own face.

"You love me too?!" He asked, sliding to the side, to avoid another attack.

"Yes!" Wukong shouted, backflipping out of the way of a burst of flame.

"Then why did you say it as a question?!" Macaque asked, slowly making his way back over to the other monkey while avoiding the demon's attempts to hit him at the same time.

"I don't know, why did you confess in the middle of a fight!?" Wukong asked, mirroring the other monkey's movements.

"It seemed like the best option!" Macaque said, leaping over top of another magic whip, spinning around and finding himself back to back with Wukong. "I- I didn't really think it through."

"And people say that I'm the impulsive one." Wukong muttered, deflecting a beam of magic away from them with his wrist.

"I heard that." Macaque hissed, turning ever so slightly to glare at him.

"I know." Wukong said- before turning and knocking Macaque to the ground, just in time for a blade to go sailing over top of them. "When did he get a scythe?!"

"How should I know?!" Macaque asked- before his ear twitched, and he grabbed Wukong's shoulders, rolling the both of over to the right, swapping their positions as the ground where they had previously been suddenly broke apart, a spike rising out of it. Both of them stared at it in shock, before glancing back at each other.

"Well, there's one thing that I think we both know." Wukong said, as Macaque stood up, pulling Wukong to his feet along with him. They both turned to glare at the demon. "And it's that we're starting to get real sick of this guy."

"...You know, I hear that there's a solar eclipse coming up." Macaque said, and Wukong immediately smirked.

The demon sent another blast of magic, and, still holding hands, the two of them stepped to the side, Macaque even taking things one step further, twirling Wukong as they dodged the blast, before pulling away, giving the Monkey King a small bow before falling down into the shadows. Wukong, smirk still wide on his face, turned to face the demon with a determined look.

Running forwards, swiftly moving left and right to stay out of the way of the demon's attacks, Wukong got himself right up in the demon's face. Jumping, he flipped backwards, hitting the demon in the chin with his foot as he did so, before landing on his feet slightly further back than he'd been before.

The demon rubbed his chin, eyes blazing with anger, and Wukong laughed.

"C'mon, is this the best you can throw at me?" He taunted, practically dancing out of the way of the spikes that shot out of the ground at him. "Surely you can do better than this!"

The demon growled, not seeing the trap for what it was, summoning his scythe and charging forwards. Wukong stayed where he was, smirk still firm in place on his face.

When the blade was almost close enough for Wukong to taste the tang of the metal, the shadows in front of him shifted.

Macaque shot up from the shadows, with a spear made out of the darkness, easily blocking the demon's attack, his eyes glowing purple as he stepped forwards, shadows still trailing and swirling around his feet as he forced the demon to take a step back.

The demon grit his teeth, so focused in trying to keep Macaque advancing any further- that he failed to notice as Wukong slid beside him, his eyes glowing red as he took power away from his glamours and channeled it into making sure this punch was the last one.

The strike hit, and Macaque stepped back, his fur rustled by the wind as the demon was sent flying past him, slamming into the mountain, hard.

The two monkeys stood there for a moment, panting, staring at the demon's prone form.

A minute passed, and that was all it took for the two of them to confirm that the demon was not going to be getting back up.

A sigh of relief left the two of them, Wukong falling down to sit on the ground, while Macaque slumped, leaning against his spear as the two of them took a moment to finally relax.

Only to jump as a field of yellow chrysanthemums and purple, flowering wisterias appeared around them.

The two of them stared around themselves in shock for a moment, Macaque dispelling his spear as he sank down to the ground beside Wukong. A breeze flew by, knocking loose a few petals, mixing yellow and purple together.

"...You know, I can't decide if these flowers are hilariously late or perfectly on time." Macaque said, and Wukong laughed.

"Say, who do you think has more flowers for them?" He asked, and the both of them took a second to think about it, looking out over the field. Wukong abruptly stood up. "Why don't we make some clones to help and find out?"

Macaque laughed, standing up and summoning his own shadow clones as Wukong blew on a few of his hairs, and they went to work, counting flowers.

...In the end, they ended up giving up after the third recount also ended up in a tie.

When the two of them finally returned to the ship, adorn in matching flower crowns, MK took one look at them, a brief expression of shock flickering on his face, before he fell backwards onto the couch, a strangled laugh escaping him.

"Fucking finally!"

#Monkie Kid #shadowpeach #fanfic #my writing #non fatal hanahaki au #this took forever

328 notes · View notes

kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

Text

Everything is Blue

Chapter 1: His pills, his hands, his jeans

MK just wants everyone in his life to be safe and happy, to never leave him. He'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

And, luckily for him, the voice in his head has the perfect plan to make that happen.

(Or, the author contemplates how slow the possession was for DBK in episode 10 and considers how MK would fall)

Ao3 link

This is a 13k monolith of a first chapter, but I'm very proud of how it turned out! I threw it together in 4 days with the help of my beta reader @imnotcameraready on tumblr, famous for the Chivalry is Dead sanders sides au. Give it a read, it's on Ao3 and tumbr! It even has a sequel! Seriously, she’s a great writer and edited this thing in like 2-3 hrs after I threw it at her. A godsend.

Anyway, happy reading!

When MK knocks the canisters off of DBK’s back, he thinks that’s the end of it. He wasn’t exactly given the rundown on how the cannisters worked, nor does he know why whatever was in them caused DBK to go crazy, but at the very least he only had to fight the one guy instead of the entire family. It was weird to fight with Red Son and Princess Iron Fan (shouldn't she be Queen, at this point? She's married to Demon Bull King, after all. Do they not have the paperwork?) but not unwelcome. He wishes they could be on the same side all of the time.

Because he was raised on stories of Monkey King’s adventures, which frequently discuss the Demon Bull Family, and he’s always thought they were interesting in those stories. He thinks Princess Iron Fan is super cool, even though she’s scary and actively wants him dead. Red Son is...well, he wasn’t what MK expected, but that isn’t exactly a bad thing. If anything, MK thought he’d be older. He doesn’t understand how demon aging works.

Tangents aside, he watches them disappear in a gust of wind and groans, flopping forward as he bemoans the fact that they left again, when he’d just beat them. Well, he hadn’t actually fought all three of them, this time. DBK had fought more people than he had.

He jumps as the cave begins to crumble from all the damage that it took from the fight, scrambling to find a way out, when—

A New Vessel?

A voice curls into his ear, a soft whisper.

Young. Powerful. Weak. Freedom.

He looks down, and he sees a white light sink into his skin. Cold seeps into his every pore, bone, and nerve, his muscles tensing as the temperature drops. His teeth chatter, and when he lets out a startled breath he sees white air drift in front of his face. The warmth of his powers—his Monkey King powers—is smothered, and soon all MK feels is the cold that keeps him in place, rooting him to the spot. It’s a miracle he’s even standing.

What is this?

What’s happening?

His eyes dart to the cannisters. The empty canisters. There was something in there, earlier, right? Where did it go?

Is this? Wher e it w e n t?

Wha t i s . . . ?

It’s hard to think. His thoughts are newly cracked ice upon a lake, pieces crashing slowly against each other and fracturing further, splintering into nothingness.

New Vessel. Rest.

His eyes slide shut, out of his control, as his consciousness, like everything else, is smothered by the chill.

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He wakes up on the shoulder of the Monkey Mech, as the last rays of sun are streaking across the steadily darkening sky, like a lighthouse beam against the dark sea. He sits up, staring far into the horizon, as confusion pulls him out of the just woken up daze. How did he get here?

“MK?” He jumps, startled, and turns to realize that Mei is right next to him, a concerned smile on her face. He stares at her, trying to figure out why she’s here, how she got here. Then again, he doesn’t even know how he got here. He feels dizzy just trying to remember.

“You alright, kid?” Pigsy’s voice comes from his other side, and he forces himself not to jump, turning to look at his boss. Tang and Sandy are there too, and Sandy waves while Tang smiles in greeting mid slurp, bowl of noodles in hand.

“What happened?” he’s missing time. He defeated DBK, and then...then nothing. There’s a feeling of coldness, at the thought, but the memories don’t come.

“I found you on the ground after the Bull Clones all sort of fell apart. I figured you passed out after trouncing DBK, so I picked you up and got you out of there.” Mei doesn’t seem concerned, but MK is, just a little. He’s never passed out after using his powers; rather, using them often results in him getting an energy boost. He thinks back on it, trying to remember any time this has happened before. Macaque comes to mind but even then he wasn’t tired once his powers returned.

His ruminating on the ordeal is cut off by a bowl of noodles being shoved unceremoniously into his hands. He blinks down at it, and then turns to Pigsy

“Here, kid. Eat. You look pale, and skinny as ever. Can’t have my employee lookin’ half starved.” He smiles at Pigsy’s attempt to hide his soft side, picking up his chopsticks with a grin.

He eats, and the loud conversations of what they’d just accomplished arrests MK’s attention so that the questions about DBK, the cannisters, the voice that he swears he can hear in the back of his mind, fall away like sand in an hourglass, time never able to be reclaimed.

The sun finally vanishes and stars dot the sky like sequins on a gown. MK curls in on himself, hunched over the bowl a little, missing the sun's rays and the finished soup’s warmth.

He shivers, but there’s no breeze.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bonus of living in such a technologically advanced age is that city reconstruction is pretty fast. Hospitals are rebuilt first, people are brought in en masse. MK spends his time volunteering there, because noodle shops are low on the list of things to be rebuilt and he needs to be useful.

MK tries not to be too guilty about the wreckage, though most of it had occurred because he was late to stop DBK. He'd been kept at Flower Fruit Mountain for a few weeks because Monkey King was worried after the incident with Macaque. Wanted to be sure MK's training ethic wasn't too messed up, wanted to be certain Macaque hadn't left any lasting effects or impressions.

It was a punishment, MK knows, for being a two timing student and for making Monkey King have to deal with a demon enemy when he’s made it clear that he’s retired. Doesn't matter that they only ever trained in the morning and early afternoon, then spent the rest of the day hanging out. MK has watched Monkey King: The Animated Series fifty-three times now, most recently with Monkey King during the duration of his solitary confinement at Flower Fruit Mountain. They'd both piped up with commentary, MK about the production and animation, and Monkey King about the inaccuracies that MK filed away for his sketchbook.

But even so, it was a punishment for MK’s failings. Why else would Monkey King keep MK close, keep him away from his family and friends, keep MK away from the outside world?

It takes two and a half weeks after the battle with DBK for MK to go back to work delivering noodles. He'll sometimes buy extra and drop it off at a random hospital nearby, for the medical staff. They're overworked because of him, because he was away for so long.

He has to be better next time. He doesn't know when DBK will be back, doesn’t know how to sense him. Is he able to do that? Can he learn to sense when his enemies are nearby? That would solve a lot of problems, near rid him of worry. Maybe Monkey King knows?

That thought has him swinging by Flower Fruit Mountain on the weekend, with a promise to Pigsy to be home before midnight. MK is an adult only by age, after all; Pigsy still treats him like the 16 year old he found half dead outside his shop.

When he steps onto the mountain’s sand, though, he feels unwelcome.

The mystic energy that had beckoned him in the first time he’d arrived has shut its doors, like a silent way of saying

Leave.

Not a single monkey comes to greet him, but he can see their eyes, hidden in the trees. They regard him with suspicion. He frowns at them in confusion.

He hears a hiss in the back of his head and winces at the ensuing headache, stepping forward in hopes of pushing past the pain. Every step he takes makes the pounding in his head louder and more painful, and MK closes his eyes and focuses, reaching for the well of power he knows he has, the power that makes the staff feel lighter than air.

It’s like sticking his hand through a well of ice, and his wrist is paralyzed by the time his fingers brush that warmth, the light curling around his palm. Gold sparkles in his vision, and the unwelcome air starts to recede, as if the island recognizes him again. He heads in deeper, and lets out a breath as the headache ceases.

He doesn’t have to head in too deep, because Monkey King comes through the waterfall in a rare moment of MK’s mentor leaving the inner sanctum of the mountain. The waterfall itself moves like a curtain out of Monkey King’s way and the sight has MK focusing on that rather than the expression on Monkey King’s face, until he looks up.

Monkey King’s eyes are sharp, darting around, an expression MK only recognizes from the suspicion and distrust Monkey King gave Macaque. MK fidgets beneath that gaze, though it isn’t directed at him, uncomfortable. He hasn’t done anything wrong, has he? He wracks his brain for any new missteps, but finds very little. Still, his anxiety skyrockets by the second.

The look vanishes, though not completely, when Monkey King’s eyes catch on the sight of MK.

“Hey bud! Impromptu visit?” Monkey King greets.

MK tries not to shy away from the air of suspicion that colors Monkey King’s tone. Is MK really that untrustworthy? He did mess up badly by trusting Macaque, and Monkey King is right to distrust him. He bites his lip and tries to ignore the swell of guilt that sets like a stone in his stomach at the memory.

“Yeah, just-uh-just wanted to train, y’know? Don’t know when DBK is coming back.” He shrugs, and Monkey King nods, only half listening.

He still looks on edge. “Cool. You uh...you bring anyone with you?”

Now that’s concerning. MK scrambles to find a supposed intruder, hands gripping his staff tight in preparation for battle. “No? Unless-Oh no, is there someone here? Is it a demon guy?” What if he led a bad guy here? What if he messed up again?

He jumps as a monkey lands on his head, picking through MK’s hair in typical grooming fashion, and then Monkey King laughs, loud and almost relieved. MK turns back around to face him.

“Nah, must be my nerves. Maybe DBK left something on you, messed with my senses.” Monkey King waves a hand, nonchalant, and MK perks up in ease at the reminder.

“Oh! That’s actually why I’m here!” He takes careful steps forward, trying not to jostle the monkey on his head. “I was thinking-I didn’t know DBK was in the city and destroying stuff, and a lot of people got hurt. But! If I could sense him, like you can, I could stop him quicker! Right?” He’s bouncing on his toes, nervous and excited all at once, and Monkey King smiles down at him fondly.

“Sure, why not? If you’re up for some meditation, that is,” Monkey King turns, waving at MK to follow.

The monkey on MK’s head hops away, and MK sprints after his mentor with a wide grin. “Totally! I’m, like, the best at meditation. I’m like a meditation wizard!”

Monkey King laughs all the way to the training grounds.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Training actually is easier than he expects. MK blusters a lot, but he isn’t dumb or unaware of his limits. Sitting still isn’t his strong suit, so sitting still while not being able to talk, tap, fidget, or do anything else other than think is basically torture.

But, when he gets into the meditative position with Monkey King, something clicks. A cool blanket settles on his shoulders, eases out the desire to move. It’s so easy to be still, and quiet.

Frozen.

“You weren’t kidding,” Monkey King tells him, and MK grins a little, face warmed by the praise. “Now, when you’re like this, you have to let every other sound and feeling fade out. Nothing else matters but the energies around you. Mine’s pretty easy to see cause, yknow,”

MK can practically see Monkey King scratching his chin and grinning with barely hidden pride. “I’m a pretty powerful guy. DBK would be similar, he’s got a pretty loud aura too. Now, just try it, kay?”

MK nods, and takes a deep breath. The sounds around him-bugs, monkeys jumping around and talking to one another, the wind, the ever present sound of something in his head—those all start to fade away.

Wait, what was that last one?

He lets them all go, and then forgets the feeling of the cold, the grass, the fabric touching his skin. Nothing exists except his own mind, and then.

He gets to see the bright light that is Monkey King. Golden and red and royal in its feel, it’s near blinding. He has to blink a few times to get used to its light.

“Woah,” he murmurs, and Monkey King opens one eye, before blinking both in surprise.

“Woah, already? You sure you haven’t done this before?” Monkey King crosses his arms over his chest, almost offended, and MK is reminded of how betrayed Monkey King looked when MK had shown off the skills he’d learned from Macaque.

“Nope! Maybe defeating DBK gave me a confidence boost?” He shrugs, and then stands, looking around. Monkey King’s expression sits in the back of his mind, and MK bites his lip. “Did I, uh, did I do something wrong? I didn’t…,” he trials off, worried.

“Maybe,” Monkey King mumbles in response to his first reply, mostly to himself. “Oh-no, no, you’re fine, bud. I think I’m just a little paranoid,” he laughs it off. MK is too busy glancing back towards town to process Monkey King’s pensive expression.

“I can see Mei! She’s...very green. Did she always have a dragon?” It’s curled around her, like a protective barrier, snarling and poised to strike.

Monkey King chuckles. “You’ve got yourself some powerful friends, kid. Not surprising. Like knows like, even when they don’t know what like is.” He puts a hand on MK’s shoulder, and then starts. “You’re freezing. It’s not that cold, is it?”

MK blinks a few times, and everything comes back, the colors and sounds and feelings of the world returning to normal. Monkey King keeps looking at him, as if MK is a puzzle he’s yet to solve.

“I don’t know, maybe? I’ve been feeling a bit chilly, lately. Maybe I’m coming down with something?” He’s been a bit stressed out, between Macaque and DBK and the reconstruction, and he’s heard stress can cause illnesses.

Monkey King sighs, after a moment, and scratches his head.

“I think I’m becoming an adult,” he says, like it’s a crime, and he shrugs again. “You’re probably fine. Just, take it easy the next few days, alright? Practice meditating at home, or when you’re on the job. When you’re as good as me, you can turn it on whenever you need to,” Monkey King puffs up with pride, and his tail swings back and forth leisurely. MK watches his tail more than he listens to what Monkey King is saying.

“Okay. Anything else for today?” It’s only been an hour or two, they have plenty of time.

Monkey King deliberates. Then, he grins, stepping back to position for MK’s inevitable first attack. “Tell you what. We’ll spar for a bit, and then you can bring up that new show you kept ranting about a few weeks ago. Kay?”

MK’s eyes sparkle.

“Heck yeah!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MK’s muscles aren’t sore when he gets home. He actually lasted a couple minutes sparring this time around, and Monkey King had rewarded him with peach chips and an arm around MK’s shoulder as he eagerly pulled up the show he had dove into during his free time on the TV.

Pigsy sent him upstairs with a bowl of noodles and a stern reminder to sleep early so he wouldn’t be late for work. He finishes the noodles in record time and, once he has showered and put on his warmest pajamas, pulls out all of the blankets he can find. He just wants to be warm, just a little, even though it doesn’t make sense that he’s feeling this cold. He’s not tired, he doesn’t feel achy, his sinuses are clogged—none of the other symptoms of being sick are popping up, so why is he so cold?!

He’s practically buried in blankets by the time he feels comfortable enough to rest. For the first time in a long while, he doesn’t dream.

Things go back to normal, somewhat. There’s a niggling something in the back of his head, and there’s guilt and the ever present chill that has MK wearing long sleeved shirts, but otherwise MK falls back into his typical routine, which is nice. He missed his friends, between Macaque and DBK and training. It’s good to see them again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first time he starts hearing the voice in his head, he’s getting yelled at by Pigsy.

It doesn’t happen as often, anymore. MK is scatterbrained, but he genuinely tries to do his best at work. Sometimes, he gets mixed up, because he’s only one kid and he’s never been good at focusing, no matter how hard he tries. It’s hard for his stressed out and ADHD ridden brain to remember whose order is whose, especially when it’s the dinner rush and he’s running behind.

Today was a particularly bad day. He’d accidentally given a customer an order with peanut oil in it, when they had an order specifically without peanuts due to their severe allergy. Pigsy had gotten a very angry phone call, and he passed that rage at MK, rightfully so.

MK can only apologize so much, so eventually he quiets and lets Pigsy let off steam. Luckily the customer hadn’t tried to sue, but MK knows the review Pigsy likely got was scathing. He deserves a bit of a tongue lashing for that, he thinks.

It was an honest mistake. Cruel, to yell at one so young. Why is he so mean?

The voice in the back of his head, new and different, nearly makes MK jump. Pigsy notices the change in MK’s expression and mistakes it for fear, and that gets him to quiet down. He dismisses MK with a sigh and a wave of his hand, and MK heads upstairs, feeling guilty and confused.

That voice….it didn’t sound like him, did it? When he tries to recall the sound, it mirrors his internal voice, but in the moment it seemed different.

It’s probably nothing. After all, if something was wrong with him, wouldn’t someone else have noticed by now? Wouldn’t he have noticed by now?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The voice keeps popping up at random intervals, random moments. When Mei gets annoyed at his ramblings. When Tang pushes him away when he’s begging for a story, because Tang is busy eating. When Pigsy yells at him for being late for work, for messing up. When Sandy awkwardly pushes him to leave because MK can’t take a hint, some days. When Monkey King looks at him with something akin to disappointment, exasperation.

They’re tired of you. They want you gone. They’re plotting against you. They’re going to betray you!

And, see, that would bother MK if he didn’t already know that. He knows people don’t like him, find him annoying. He knows he pushes too much, messes up a lot, misses social cues. He knows that he’s not a good enough successor. And that just makes him want to do better.

As for the whole betrayal thing, plotting against him, it makes sense. He isn’t offended or anything if they are, in fact he’d be more surprised if they weren’t, you know? He’s the Monkey King’s successor. He has all of the powers, has all of the strength and invincibility, with a caveat or two, but he’s also still just a teenager. If they aren’t worried that he could go rogue, mess up and decide to be selfish, then that’s stupidity on their part. Trusting him with anything is never a good idea, so knowing that, should he mess up, his family will be able to enact swift justice is a comfort rather than a worry.

And yeah, it’s a bit embarrassing, knowing just how annoying and useless he can be. He flinches more often at their glares, gets quieter. He doesn’t want to make them mad at him, he doesn’t want to lose them because he isn’t good enough. He just needs to focus, be better, help out more often. If he does that, hopefully they won’t leave.

The voice, after a few months or so, had backed off for a week. He’d felt a weight lift from his shoulders, and smiling was easier. Pigsy had seemingly relaxed at his good mood, and Mei seemed cheerier when they’d gone out to the arcades. He hadn’t realized he’d been worrying them.

Are you so sure they’ll stay?

A single phrase that pulls the rug out beneath MK’s feet. He knows he isn’t good enough, but everyone knows that he at least tries, right? That should endear them to him enough for him to prove he’s worth their time, right? He can be good enough, he can do better, he just needs time!

Not fast enough. They’ll get tired of you, and then they’ll leave.

The cold feeling in his chest feels so much heavier, as he panics in his room. He’s supposed to be asleep, but the blankets don’t do much anymore. He’s losing feeling in his fingers. He keeps fumbling with things, even the staff, and everyone is getting annoyed at him. And he’s so tired, all the time, and yet it’s so hard to sleep. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him, but he knows that whatever it is, it’s going to ruin the equilibrium he has between being a failure and being good enough to keep around.

What happens when he loses it all?

You can be better.

Can he?

Wouldn’t everyone love you if they were safe?

Well, he can imagine not having to worry about DBK would make them far less stressed out. If he can do that, then maybe they won’t get so easily annoyed at him. He knows stress can make people snappy, and there’s a lot to be stressed about, like the economy and death by demons.

You can make them safe.

How?

Listen to me.

And MK knows it’s weird to make a pact with your own mind, but he thinks he’s pretty good at following directions, so he nods, and doesn’t sleep at all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The plan isn’t an easy one, and MK doesn’t know if he really wants to follow it. The words turn over and over in his head. He doesn’t know if they’re right or not.

Maybe it would be better, if he wasn’t so nice. He beats the bad guys, sure, but he isn’t that violent with them. They try to kill him, but it’s never personal. He’s the successor to Monkey King, it just makes sense that they’d go after him. He’s not upset, really!

Even though the calabash has him looking over his shoulder. They have earthquakes a lot, they live near a ring of active volcanoes, and each one puts him on edge, expecting a lie to turn his whole world apart. And the spider lady tried to eat his friends, tried to kill him. And Macaque nearly hurt Monkey King because MK let him get close. And DBK and Princess Iron Fan won’t stop, not until they get revenge or something.

Red Son is...he’s MK’s age. And MK has noticed just how much DBK and Princess Iron Fan belittle Red Son, and he’s their son. It’s too familiar for MK’s liking, and it makes the desire to bring Red Son to justice lessen. Maybe, if he got Red Son’s parents out of the way…

You could have anything you wanted.

All MK wants is for his friends and family to be happy.

This is how you’ll do it.

MK doesn’t give in. Not yet.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MK considers it when he goes over to see Sandy, one afternoon. They’re just doing some leisurely painting practice, nothing like painting the whole boat. After the whole clones thing, Sandy had learned that he should probably figure out which color he wants to stick with in the long run before asking for help in such a task. So, he asks MK to come over and brainstorm. You know, sketch out some ideas, test paint samples on different areas of the boat, see how it looks in light and dark.

MK also helps with the many litter boxes around the ship, as well as top up the water and food bowls all around. He gets appreciative nuzzles from the myriad cats around the barge, so it isn’t so bad. Then, he and Sandy will have tea, and Sandy will listen to MK ramble on about anything and everything until either Monkey King or Pigsy or Mei calls him to go do something (he gave Monkey King his number. Occasionally he will get an incomprehensible text. He’s pretty sure Monkey King has a Nokia phone).

Today, when they’re having tea, MK considers.

“Hey, Sandy?” He starts, more hesitant than when he’s ever asked the man a question before.

Sandy notices, and MK sees him soften his pose even more, looking warm and welcoming. “Yeah, MK?”

“Do you think I’m too soft on villains?”

Because he beats them, but he always lets them leave, lets them escape. They get to heal, recoup, and come back stronger every time, and people get hurt. MK doesn’t want to be the type to attack first, to never ask questions, but at this point there aren’t too many questions to ask.

“You’ve got a good heart, MK. You don’t have it in ya to go at ‘em too hard,” MK clenches his fist, his other hand gentle against the teacup lest he break it. He did that a few times when he first got his powers, unused to the extra strength.

“That kinda doesn’t answer my question,” MK tries not to say it through gritted teeth. He can feel his tea getting frigid, and bites back the burst of white air that would make Sandy ask questions.

He wouldn’t know how to answer questions about that, which is why he can’t deal with them. That’s the reason.

He’s saying you’re weak.

MK hides a grimace, and lets his heart ache silently. He sips the tea. It’s ice cold.

“What brought this on?” Sandy asks, instead of answering the question, which grates on MK’s nerves more than it should.

“I let DBK get too powerful,” he says. “He destroyed the city again, and people got hurt. If I’d just got rid of him before, those people would be okay.”

Sandy sighs, taking a sip of his tea. A cat hops into MK’s lap, curling up, but after a few frigid moments hops away. Apparently MK is too cold for its liking. He tries not to get offended by that, but the hot well of shame and longing persists. At least the feeling is warm.

“MK, you’re still learning. Mistakes are bound to happen. Those who got hurt will get better, and the city is rebuilt better than ever! You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders. And,” Sandy looks away, and suddenly he looks a lot older than MK thinks he is. “Honestly, being too harsh to make an enemy stop can feel good in the moment, but it does more harm than good, especially to the person who does the fighting.”

And MK leaves it at that, but thinks he doesn’t mind if it harms him, if it keeps everyone else safe.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Another story!” MK begs, spinning on the barstool. Pigsy always tells him not to, something about wearing down the seat joint, but at the same time Pigsy never really stops MK when he does it either, because MK only does it when he’s very excited and hyper.

Tang finishes his bowl of noodles with a chuckle, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose in a practiced motion that MK is oh so familiar with. MK taps the front of his sketchbook with his pencil impatiently.

“Alright, alright. Tell you what, I’ll tell you the story of the Baigujing, or White Bone Spirit,” Tang’s voice falls into storyteller mode, and MK is immediately entranced. Pigsy, from the kitchen, slams down a pan and groans.

“Not that one, Tang. I hate that one, you know that,” MK turns to his boss and is surprised to see an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. What in this story would Pigsy have to be embarrassed about?

“Hey, MK wants to know all the Monkey King stories. I’m not going to rob him of knowledge,” Tang argues back. He leans close to MK and whispers “Pigsy couldn’t sleep for a week after I told him this one.”

“That is not true!” Pigsy barks, indignant, and MK laughs.

Tang chuckles to himself, and Pigsy turns back to his work with a grumble. Right now is a lull in business, right after the lunch rush and before early dinners get called in, so MK is taking his break and Pigsy isn’t too upset by it. It’s just enough time for a story.

“Okay. The Baigujing was a shapeshifting demon, who saw Monkey King and his group of traveling companions as they passed by. Her eyes caught on the human monk, Tang Sanzang,” MK perks up.

“Hey, that’s like your name!” he points out, and both Tang and Pigsy look startled. Tang coughs, awkward.

“Yes-well-uh, it’s a family name,” he amends quickly. MK tilts his head to the side. “Anyway, she decided she wanted to taste the monk’s flesh. So, she disguised herself as a little girl, coming up to the group and offering them poisoned fruits. Because she was so powerful, only Monkey King could sense her treachery, and he hit her with his staff, seemingly killing her.”

MK gasps, doesn’t understand the fury that builds behind his eyes.

Tang glances at him, for a moment, and then jumps.

“MK? You okay?” He asks, and MK blinks.

“What-yeah! What happened next?” Tang looks him over, gaze catching on MK’s eyes, before he sighs and continues.

“The Monkey King’s companions were shocked and appalled. They thought he had killed an innocent girl! He tried to explain, but they didn’t believe him. The Monk buried the girl, who turned back into the spirit. She tried again, once as the supposed mother of the little girl, and then the grandfather. Monkey King managed to show her as a skeleton spirit during their last encounter, clearing his name, but then his companion, Bajie, told Sanzang that Monkey King made it up. Thus, Monkey King was abandoned, at least until the Monk was captured by a demon Wujing and Baijie couldn’t defeat, and Bajie had to apologize to bring him back,” Tang finishes, and MK’s face settles into a pout.

“Bajie’s a jerk!” He crosses his arms.

“He apologized,” Pigsy mumbles, from his place in the kitchen, where he slices scallions violently. “More than once. Not that it matters.”

“Monkey King didn’t exactly endear himself to his peers,” Tang amends. “Perhaps if he had been less full of himself at the time, they all could have gotten along better. But, all four grew to be better people by the end of their journey.”

MK finishes a sketch of the scenes Tang had described with a flourish, and he tilts his head to one side. “Kind of rude to just attack the lady, though, couldn’t he have tried to talk it out?” He doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend the demon, but she doesn’t seem too bad.

Tang makes a face.

“She wanted to eat a person, MK,” he says, and MK makes a face that mirror’s Tang’s expression.

“Right. Eugh, gross. Anyway, thanks Mr. Tang!” he hops off the barstool and puts back on his collared shirt, making sure his headband doesn’t slip down. “Any orders, Pigsy?”

Pigsy jerks his thumb to the few on the counter. MK picks them up, and continues on to work, the story sitting in the back of his mind. He stumbles a bit while walking. He doesn’t feel the key in his hand, his fingers numbed over time. He should be concerned, but everything else seems fine.

He kind of wishes he could have met the Baigujing. She doesn’t seem too bad, besides the people eating. Maybe they could have worked it out.

Who does Sun Wukong think he is, deciding to serve justice anyway he sees fit?

MK frowns and buttons up his shirt. His chest feels like ice.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s so, so tired.

MK looks at himself in the mirror when he wakes up and his skin looks paler, his lips a little blue. He has bags under his eyes that vanish by the time he leaves the bathroom, a bottle of concealer and a tube of lipstick on the bathroom sink that he doesn’t remember buying.

His memory’s been growing spottier, too, missing minutes, hours. Mei talks to him about a high score he beat at the arcade and he nods along, no clue what she’s talking about but not wanting to worry her. He hasn’t gone to see Sandy in what feels like years, but gets a text from him thanking MK for taking care of the cats one afternoon. There are sketches in his sketchbook he doesn’t remember drawing, from stories Tang told him that he can’t remember hearing.

He’s lost feeling in his hands and feet. He’s dropped enough bowls of soup for Pigsy to go from mad to worried, and he shoves MK off to Flower Fruit Mountain because it’s warmer there, and MK always looks cold.

He stumbles when he hits sand, nearly bowls over with how much the island rejects him, how much it wants him not to be there. This is supposed to be a safe place, but the sand feels like needles and the wind slices at his face. Monkey King comes rushing out like a bat out of hell, teeth bared, but he sees MK, kneeling on the beach, and runs over.

“You okay, bud? You look…,” he doesn’t say awful, but MK knows he’s thinking it. MK looks awful, feels awful, is awful. And the solution to that is right there, waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to take it because he’s a coward. The voice in his head gave him an ironclad idea, a perfect plan, and he’s been ignoring it because he’s scared.

Weak little vessel.

The hiss in his ear makes him wince, and he trembles as Monkey King helps him up.

“Tired,” he manages, leaning against Monkey King because he hardly has the strength to stand.

“I can see that.” The try at levity has MK chuckling, but Monkey King is soft and warm and all MK wants to do is suck that warmth into himself, so he can stop being cold for one second. “Why don’t we head to my place and watch something. There’s always my show, right?”

MK nods, blinking slowly, and Monkey King takes a step forward. Suddenly, they’re at Monkey King’s house. When did they get there? Why are they here again?

He’s set on the couch.

“There’s something off about your aura, kid. Touch anything mystic or weird back at home?” Monkey King runs his fingers through MK’s hair, and MK leans into the touch. Warm. Safe.

He shakes his head, a full minute after the question is asked. Monkey King hums in thought.

“How do you even see auras?” MK mumbles, words slurring a bit as he talks. “Teach me?”

Monkey King’s hand stills, and MK whines a little, prompting his mentor to continue the motions.

“I already have, bud,” Monkey King whispers, more to himself than to MK. MK blinks in confusion. He doesn’t remember that.

Rest, Vessel.

The voice whispers so sweetly in his ear. It’s nice, sometimes. Mean other times. MK wonders if that’s his fault. Is he so bad that even his own head is mad at him? How can he be better? He’s trying so hard.

The TV is turned on. MK doesn’t register the sound, but the light makes him turn his head away. Monkey King turns down the brightness with his remote. Another monkey rests on top of MK for a moment, before jumping off. It shivers at the temperature of MK’s jacket, his skin, and moves over to Monkey King’s shoulder.

MK rests his head on Monkey King’s lap, and closes his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up in a dream. He stands on ice. Each step he takes is careful, lest he slip, and even still he stumbles and fumbles. He can see something in the distance.

“Hello?” he calls out, but the person doesn’t answer. The closer he gets, the more he can make them out. “Mei?”

It is her, but then her head drops, straight off of her neck.

“NO!” MK screams, running to her, and he stumbles and falls. His knees hit ice and they burn with the chill that sinks through his pants. He slides to her body, cradling it and her head as if he could put her back together with hope.

He turns, looking for a reason for this, and when he looks up, all of the adults in his life are standing around him, their faces covered in shadow. Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, Monkey King—they’re all looking down on him.

“Look what you let happen,” Pigsy growls out.

“She’s dead,” Tang continues.

“You didn’t save her,” Sandy drones on.

“You let her die,” Monkey King spits.

“No…” MK breathes, and the tears build in his eyes and down his cheeks, freezing on his face. It burns.

You have a choice, vessel.

The figures of his friends vanish into mist, and MK curls his arms around himself. He misses the contact. He hates to be alone.

A woman wreathed in white kneels down in front of him. It hurts to look at her, and MK averts his gaze until she tilts up his chin so he can look nowhere else. Her face is ice cold, yet inviting. He can’t look away from her eyes.

Don’t you want them to stay? Don’t you want them to be safe?

MK nods, quickly. Of course that’s what he wants. More than anything, he wants that love, that adoration. He wants his family to be safe, to never leave.

You know what to do.

It feels like ice is creeping up his skin, encasing him in frigidity. She holds out his hand, and he can do nothing else but take it. The cold reaches its peak, and suddenly it’s warm. It burns, and yet the warmth is inviting, a relief after months of being so, so cold and confused and tired. He is past the point of cold, of freezing, of sub zero. He is warm. He is ready.

He is hers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up well rested, and the cold that had settled into him still feels like the burn that is a welcome respite from before. Monkey King is still asleep, and MK leaves him there, leaving the house and walking slowly out of the inner mountain.

He leaves footprints of ice where he steps. The monkeys watch, from the trees, trembling as their eyes gaze upon something inhuman, sitting in MK’s skin. MK has never felt better. He knows what to do now. He knows how to make things right.

The staff in his hands feels heavier, for a moment, but MK grips it tight and bends it to his will. He pogos out of the island with ease, letting the wind whip his hair back.

He hasn’t blinked in a while. He forgot he had to. He blinks because the wind makes his eyes sting, and touches the ground with a gentleness he didn’t know he could master.

He lets his eyes glow gold, searching. He remembers, now, how to look at auras. He remembers a lot of things now. It’s like the pressing weight of being weak for the sake of niceties has vanished, and now he is sharp and ready.

The only question is which of his enemies does he go after first? He needs to get all of them, keep them secure. It’s the only way the town, the city, will be safe.

The small fry first. We’ll work our way up to the demon king.

Right, that makes sense. MK grins to himself. It’s so nice to have someone constantly helping, constantly making sure he’s doing the right thing. He’s useless on his own, but give him a direction and he’ll follow it to the letter.

He can see gold and silver, in the distance. He forgets their names, at first, but their auras jog his memory. Yin and Jin.

They put him in the calabash. They weren’t good at it, but they were good enough. They’re demons. Dangerous. He needs to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.

He heads to their home, not in a hurry. There’s no rush to the inevitable. Is this what self confidence is? The feeling of knowing you can do it, that you will do it, that no one can stop you? It feels very gratifying. He lets the glow in his eyes vanish, because he doesn’t want to startle everyone around him.

His phone buzzes. A text from Pigsy, demanding to know where he is. He responds with ‘Dealing with Monkie Kid stuff. Be back soon!’ and a string of emojis that Pigsy will find incomprehensible, before continuing on his trek.

He reaches the door, and hears a conversation.

“So, our plan has three steps. That’s an improvement,” Yin seems to be pacing, from what MK can hear.

“Step one, capture the monkie kid,” Jin pipes up, and MK fights back a laugh. “Step two, take the staff from him.”

As if they could. MK almost has to admire their tenacity.

“Step three, take over the world!” Yin finishes, and MK takes that as his cue to step in.

He knocks in the door. Polite. He still has manners, after all.

“Huh? Jin, did you order out for dinner again?” Yin barks out.

“We don’t have the money for that!” Is the response.

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Yin grumbles, moving to the door.

Here they come!

MK counts the steps Yin takes to the door, itching with anticipation.

“Hello?” Yin opens the door, and then jumps in surprise.

“Hi!” MK waves, and taps his staff on the ground.

There’s a thunk; not a thud of a body, but a thunk of a block of ice. MK pats the statue with a fond look. He’ll chip away the extra pieces later. This is his first attempt, it’s normal for it to be less precise. He can get better at it with practice. Jin turns, from his place at the desk, and his eyes widen when he sees his brother, frozen on the floor.

“Yin—what did you do?” Red eyes glow dangerously, and MK wonders if they would be more ferocious if he threatened one over the other. Jin gets up, teeth bared.

“This,” MK replies, tapping his staff on the ground.

Jin takes a step forward and freezes in place. Or, is frozen, MK supposes. He looks at the brothers, safely imprisoned, and wonders. Where is he going to put them? There’s not enough room here for all of his enemies to be placed. What’s a good place to set everything up?

The cave? The old villain hideout?

That’s perfect! After all, it would be the funniest form of irony, right? Turning a villain hideout to his base for his world saving plan. Gosh, he’s so smart. Because this is him, all him. He finally is smart enough to know what to do. He has to clear out the cave, first. It’s not far away, hidden beneath the sewers. There’s a path to it from the area where the staff used to lie.

He sets Yin and Jin next to each other, considering their poses. He thinks they look a little off, but he can fix that, right? He can fix anything, given enough time. That’s what all this is, fixing the problem of demons who’ve escaped because of DBK’s release. He nods to himself, and heads off. He has rocks to clear out, he has a cave to excavate.

But, he promised Pigsy that he’d be back soon. That stops him short. He can’t skip work!

This will make him far happier in the long run.

Still, what’s a few hours of work to make Pigsy happy now? He shakes off the one track mind and puts his staff away. The ice won’t melt fast (or at all) and he’s got time. The flash of cold he gets in response to that thought doesn’t inspire comfort, and he second guesses himself a few times, but he heads to the shop anyway.

“Hey Pigsy!” he waves, and Pigsy glances at him and jerks a thumb over to the pile of orders on the counter. “On it!”

MK swoops them up and sets them all on the delivery cart. Pigsy glances at him again, and then freezes.

“MK?” he asks.

MK turns, blinking a few times. “Yeah?” he responds, and Pigsy peers at him, almost suspicious.

MK tilts his head to the side in confusion. A part of him is glad that he has concealer on, because they don’t have the time to chat about MK’s new skin tone, not with all these orders. He watches Pigsy shiver, muttering something about the A/C acting up, before Pigsy shakes himself off and sets his hands on his hips.

“I thought-your eyes-nevermind. Get those orders out!” Pigsy barks, and MK stands at attention, giving Pigsy a salute.

“On it!” He promises, sliding out of the shop and hopping onto the delivery cart.

It only takes an hour, which is much faster than he usually is, but focus comes easy when he’s driven. The faster he gets this done they faster he gets to get back to his real work. The work that will make things better for everyone.

Right. Of course.

His shift ends when the store closes, and he’s gone before Pigsy can say anything about his work ethic or ask where MK has been or is going. He rushes to the construction site, dives below, rushing past the decaying plants where there once were flowers and a growing tree. Without Monkey King’s staff, there’s nothing making sure the plants live. MK frowns at the sight but stays focused on the task at hand.

Aim. The staff can be as large as a mountain if it needs to be. Crush what’s in your way.

He nods to himself, breaking through the rubble that has blocked off the tunnel. The ground shakes, the whole underground rumbles with power, and he hopes he’s not keeping anyone up. Then again, it’s not too bad if it’s just for a night, considering how many nights later he’s going to keep quiet. Everyone will be able to rest easy once he’s done.

He huffs a breath, and it comes out white. He should be concerned, but honestly it looks cool. He remembers to blink, because his eyes are starting to burn. He doesn’t know why he keeps forgetting.

He makes his way to the cavern, and uses ice to keep the ceiling up. Pillars rise, frost fills the spaces between rocks that would have cracked and splintered eventually. The floor remains untouched, save for when he fills in the cracks that could trip someone up.

He doesn’t remember when he got these ice powers. They seem new? Why hasn’t he used them before? How come Monkey King never told him about them?

Monkey King’s always had ice powers.

Has he? MK isn’t so sure about that.

You’re his successor, not a carbon copy. It makes sense you would have different powers than him.

Right. MK nods to himself. Now, time to get Yin and Jin! Carrying them is going to be a challenge.

It takes him an hour to get them both there, and another half hour to figure out where to put them. He has to consider DBK’s size. Wait, does he have to go and get the spider demon lady? He shivers at the thought, a deep well of terror sinking in his gut. Even as self assured as he is now, spiders still terrify him.

I can take care of that.

Really?

Yes. But first, rest.

Right. He needs to head back to his house. Pigsy will be worried if he doesn’t come home soon. He heads out of the construction site, skipping all the way home.

He barely sleeps.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The week is certainly a busy one. MK spends any time not with his friends searching, and he spends far less time with his friends, nowadays. The spider demon isn’t easy to find. He does manage to get some small fry lesser demons he hadn’t met before and now never will. He doesn’t need to meet people who will inevitably try to kill him and those around him. Far better to prevent the attack than deal with the aftermath thereof.

His collection of ice sculptures is growing. MK likes to spend time chipping away at the blocks to them more polished. It’s like sketching, in a way, or cleaning up a sketch. It also gives him an opportunity to practice a more precise use of his ice powers. He can make a mean ice chisel now, and he’s learned how to force the limbs of those frozen into the position he likes. Yin and Jin stand on top of each other, like they did in their introduction. The expressions on their faces aren’t what he likes, but he can cover it with frost and it’s like it was never there.

He meets up with Mei, one afternoon.

“Hey, MK!” She barrels into him, and immediately jumps back.

He reaches out, missing the contact, but she shakes out a shiver. “Dang, you’re cold!” She slugs him on the shoulder, and he laughs.

“I feel fine. Maybe you’re just being dramatic,” he shoots back, and she laughs with him, before her eyes glance at his face and she freezes. “What?”

“Your eyes,” she murmurs, all joking replaced with concern. He tilts his head to a side in confusion. “They’re blue?” She adds.

“Oh!” he says, and the words that come out of his mouth don’t sound like him at all. He doesn’t think he thought of them, and he doesn’t feel his lips move but the sound comes out anyway. “I’m trying out some contacts. Do you like them?” He bats his eyelashes at her, all in jest.

Her confusion melts into a smile. “I like your regular eye color better,” She admits. “But those look cool!”

She grabs him by his wrist, using his jacket as a buffer, and drags him to an arcade. Every machine he touches sticks a little, the joystick and button a tad frozen by his touch, and he doesn’t win a match by any means, but he doesn’t mind. Every time Mei leans close to him it feels like a victory. Even though he feels warm, at least a sort of freezer burn warmth, the people around him have pulled away. He’s too cold for them.

He needs contact.

Someone trips Mei as they’re running around the arcade. Her nose bleeds, and MK feels his hackles rising. Someone hurt his friend. A demon? A scan of the area reveals no such thing. Just a mean person. He can hear them snickering as they walk away.

Mei is more important than MK’s anger, so he takes her outside and finds some tissues, cleans her up. He takes her out to her favorite restaurant (not Pigsy’s, though they’ll never tell him that) and they end the night with a race around town. Her bike is an electric green streak, and he’ll never catch up, but he gives it his all before they finish outside his place.

“See ya later!” Mei still sounds a bit stuffed up from the nosebleed, and MK waves until she’s out of sight. When she disappears, his expression shutters, anger against her unrecognizable assailant returning in a flash.

He’s been getting rid of demons, but that’s not enough! Mei still got hurt, because people are unpredictable. He heads to his room and paces. How can he fix it, how can he make it better?

Maybe more than demons should be frozen.

MK stops in his tracks. Now, there’s an idea. But to freeze them forever, that seems like too much.

Not forever. Just until they know how to behave. Think of it as a pause button.

It would be nice if things just stopped for a moment. Then he could have all the time in the world to fix it. Once he gets the demons out of the way, he can do that. Then, once everyone learns to behave, they can come out. However long that takes.

He can be patient, for his friends. This is all for them, after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A day after that, and he’s found the Spider Demon’s lair. Every step he takes inside makes him shake, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to take her. He’s so nervous, so scared.

I can help, remember? Just take a deep breath.

He takes a deep breath.

Close your eyes.

He closes his eyes.

He doesn’t open them, but they open anyway. Everything is washed in a soft layer of white, like frost, and his body moves but he doesn’t tell it to. The fear he felt is muted, and he settles into the comfort of its absence. He asked for this, right?

The spider demon—she wanted to be a Queen, right? MK hadn’t been really paying attention when she went on her rant, too petrified to listen—skitters out, and when she locks eyes with him, she smiles.

“Aww, is the little monkie boy back to play?” She giggles, and MK’s body throws the staff at her. She ducks with a yelp, and scrambles back. “Ooo, we’re rough, now? Seems you’re not so scared anymore,” She purrs, but he can hear the nervousness in her voice as the staff comes back to his hand.

“Iͥ ʷgͣˢoᶰtͤ ͮoͤvͬeˢrͨ ͣiͬtͤᵈ.” The sound comes out of his mouth, and it doesn’t sound much like MK at all. Huh. His body takes a step forward, and ice spreads out from beneath his foot. “Tͭuͧrͬᶰnˢs ͦoͧuͭtʸ,ͦ ͧyˢoͪuͦ'ͧˡrͩe ͪnͣoͮtͤ ᵇtͤhͤᶰeʷ ͦsͬcͬaͥrͤiͩesͣᵇtͦ ͧdͭemͫoͤn ͥoͫuᶠtͬ ͤtͤhere.”

The Spider Queen’s expression shifts, and she tries to run, but MK’s legs are faster. He watches himself move, jumping over stones and cliffs and any obstacle. The webs she tries to trap him in freeze, and he slides across them as if his feet were skates.

Eventually, he corners her. MK watches his body close in, and suddenly he’s back in control, staring her down. Satisfaction crawls up his back, a cold grin splitting his face in two.

“ʷWͪhͦˢoˢ'ͨsͣ ͬsͤcͩaᶰrͦʷed now?” He grins, and she screams.

Ice, it turns out, is a great muffler.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Finding DBK’s hiding place is harder. MK locates it just outside the city limits, in an abandoned scrapyard. The perfect place to get parts for new bull clones and other random things Red Son can come up with.

He decides to go on the weekend, but as he prepares the night before Monkey King makes an appearance in his room.

“Hey, bud,” MK jumps at his arrival.

He must have been hiding as a bug or something, like when MK first found the staff.

“Monkey King!” He grins at his arrival, hopping up. “What’s the occasion? Is there something new you wanted to teach me? Is there a demon we have to fight?” We, not as in MK and Monkey King, but MK and himself. Because he’s not one, not really, and that’s fun! He hates being alone, after all.

“No, no,” Monkey King chuckles, overly fond. Right, MK hasn’t been to Flower Fruit Mountain for a week. “It’s just-you left pretty early, and, uh, you didn’t say anything about our next training sesh, you know? And, uhh, pretty sure you shouldn’t be slacking off on that.”

The half hearted scolding aside, MK almost thinks that Monkey King missed him. But that’s ridiculous.

“Well, you were sleeping when I got up, and I had to go to work,” The lie slips easily off of his tongue. “I didn’t want to wake you, so I left! Um, we’re busy tomorrow, but Sunday works for training, if that’s cool?” He rocks back and forth on his feet, ever excited.

“We’re? Who’s cooler than me to hang out with?” Monkey King reaches out to ruffle his hair, and MK can feel the shiver that jolts through the monkey’s body at the touch. Monkey King doesn’t comment on it, though.

“I promised Mei we’d hang out. It’s been a busy week at the shop, so I haven’t been able to party with her,” He doesn’t know where these lies are coming from.

Sometimes he talks and it’s not him at all. He should be concerned, but honestly he doesn’t mind if his other self takes the reigns. He fumbles over his words way too often to be annoyed that someone is smoothing him out.

Polished like an ice sculpture; MK thinks he could be beautiful if he was like that.

“Alright, fine. You and your friend can….do whatever it is kids do these days. Am I an adult—oh my god I’m an adult,” Monkey King flops back onto his nimbus cloud with a groan while MK giggles.

“Anyway, get some rest, bud. You look tired,” is the last thing Monkey King says to him.

“On it!” MK salutes, and Monkey King floats through the window and then rockets off. The papers in MK’s room all swirl from the blowback, and MK grabs one of the sketches that floats back down.

He doesn’t remember the last time he asked Tang for a story. The last time he sketched anything else at all. But, a hero doesn’t need hobbies so trivial.

He plans. Plans for how the city is going to look like, when he’s finished with it all. He doesn’t need to write down the steps to get there, he has his head voice for that, but the city. How it will look, when he’s done. He has to figure it out, draw it out, and pin it to the wall so he can look at it every morning and evening and remember why he’s doing this. So he sketches. Pins the piece to the wall.

Squints. He doesn’t like it.

Back to the drawing board.

His wall is covered by the time the sun rises, and MK still isn’t satisfied. But there is no time to waste. So, he picks up the outfit that feels all the more new—blue isn’t a color he expected to like, but blue is cold is safe is good is the burning warmth he needs, so he leaves the orange jacket and red headband hanging off of his desk chair.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he can barely tell the difference!

He is gone before Pigsy comes up with breakfast, before Pigsy calls for Tang to look at the mess MK left behind, enough drawings of the same thing for anyone to get the picture. He is gone before Pigsy and Tang investigate, speak in hushed tones, and call for Sandy, Mei, and eventually Monkey King.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Getting to the outskirts of town is the easy part. Infiltrating DBK’s base is a bit harder. It’s not heavily fortified, but MK thinks that’s more because he has never tried to infiltrate such a place. He doesn’t really attack first, he just protects. But that’s not good enough anymore, clearly. He can’t just be protective, he needs to be proactive.

He slides past the guards, freezes them for good measure. After all, they’re going to be made useless once he takes their leader down, so it’s not as if he’s wasting anything. There’s also always the chance they get wise, and MK doesn’t want his entrance ruined.

The inner sanctum of the base looks more like a house, made large to accommodate DBK’s figure. There are pictures on the wall, from painted portraits to black and white to color photos. MK supposes that the Demon Bull Family has been around long enough to have portraits taken in all sorts of mediums. He wonders if they have statues, a shrine? He bites back a giggle at the thought.

The booming sound of cloven footsteps alerts MK to DBK’s arrival, though by the sounds of two voices approaching, Princess Iron Fan must be with him.

“Red Son has been pulling away from us,” the gravel in DBK’s voice is soft, somehow. MK listens in with interest. What is it they are doing to their son now?

“You tried to kill him. He can’t help but take it personally,” is Princess Iron Fan’s reply. “He barely knows you, and he’s young. He’ll grow out of it,” she waves a hand, unconcerned.

MK glares at them. The temperature in the hallway drops, until Princess Iron Fan shivers.

“Darling, I thought this house had a heating function?” Princess Iron fan curls her arms around herself, and DBK picks her up and sets her on his shoulder, suddenly on guard.

“It does, the boy made it so,” he growls, sniffing around for intruders. MK decides to let himself be known.

“Hi!” he says as he pops out from around the corner.

“Noodle boy?” Princess Iron Fan questions.

“Little Thief,” DBK growls.

“Actually, I go by MK,” he corrects cheerily. “But, anyway, could you hold still? This will be harder if you move,” He twirls his staff casually. DBK growls, and Princess Iron Fan places a hand on the side of his face to silence him.

“MK,” Princess Iron Fan starts, with a forced air of politeness. “We are in your debt for helping save my husband. However, if you attack us, we will have no choice but to fight back, and we will not be kind.”

She grins, self assured, and continues “And you know what happened the last time you tried to fight me.”

Fire. Volcanoes. She had tried to kill him and, more importantly, she had made his friends cry. But things have changed, haven’t they?

MK giggles. The sound echoes, and the hallway gets colder. Frost crawls over the walls, and MK looks up with eyes that glow.

“Aͣcͨtͭuͧaͣˡlˡlʸy,ͥ Iͭ ͪtͥᶰhᵏiʸnͦkͧ ˢyͪoͦuͧˡ'ͩllͬ ͧᶰfiͥᶠnʸdͦ ͧmᵏeᶰ ͦʷtʷoͪ ͣbͭˢeᵍ ͦhͦaͩrᶠdͦeͬrʸ ͦtͧo ᶰbͦeͭatͭ ͪtͣhͭaʸnͦ ͧbeͨfͣᶰorͤˢeͨᵃᵖᵉ,” He jumps up with a smile, and sprints forward.

Something dawns on her face, and Princess Iron Fan stands.

“Darling, we need to run,” She says, quickly, but MK jumps and bounces off of the walls and is eye to eye with her before she can explain.

She doesn’t even have time to grab her fan.

DBK jumps back as the block of ice slides off his shoulder and he roars.

“Father?!” MK hears Red Son’s voice from afar and ignores that for now.

“I will tear you to pieces you ingrate!” DBK shouts, and MK laughs.

“ʸYͦoͧu ͨcͦoͧˡuͩᶰlͭdnͤ'ͮtͤᶰ ˢeͭvͦᵖenͫ ͤbʷeͪaͤᶰt ͥmʷeͣˢ wͥᶰhʸeͦnͧ ͬI ͪwͤaͣsͩnʸ'ͦtͧ ᶠtͦrͦˡying!” he shouts back, dodging a blow that sinks DBK’s fist in the wall.

The frost slides from the wall to DBK’s arm, gluing him there. He fires the gun on his other arm, and MK dodges.

“Nͥiͩcͥeͦ ͭshot!” He dances around the room.

DBK takes a step in the wrong direction, and slips on the ice cube that is his wife, dropping to the ground. MK wastes no time, and DBK’s roar is silenced abruptly.

Finally.

“Noodle Boy! What on earth are you doing?!” Red Son looks rather steamed, if the smoke coming off of him is any indication.

“Hi, Red Son! I was just taking care of your parents,” MK gestures to the popsicles on the floor. Red Son stares, face a mixture of confusion and horror, and MK barrels toward him. “Now they can’t be mean to you anymore. You can make fun inventions and not have to be a mean guy all the time!” Honestly, if anything, Red Son should be thanking MK, but MK doesn’t do this for thanks. He takes a few hairs and blows on them, and his clones start to work on moving the new additions to his cave.

“You—” Red Son is at a loss for words before landing on “Give me back my parents!”

See, MK was worried about that. He would likely have responded the same, when he first left his parents.

“But I worked hard to get them out of the way!” MK pouts. “But, I get it. You don’t understand. You just need to ᵍcͤoͭolͦ ͧdͭowͦᶠn,ͦ ͧoͬkʷaͣʸy?” MK reaches out, places a hand on Red Son’s shoulder before he can be stopped, and Red Son is going to freeze too, when—

Red Son explodes, and MK burns.

It’s not enough to melt the ice, no, but MK is thrown back against the wall, eyes wide.

The chill in his bones vanishes with a screech, and all he can hear is screaming. For a moment, something rises within him.

This is wrong.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he can’t be.

He isn’t a bad person, he isn’t cruel. He wouldn’t do this.

He needs to stop, he needs to—

And then the flames vanish, and so does Red Son, and the cold slips back into place with brutal efficiency. MK blinks, tries to remember where he is. Right, DBK and Princess Iron Fan. He got them! Great.

His clones have been destroyed in the blaze, so he makes some new ones, and heads back to base.

A shame he couldn’t get Red Son to understand, but they all will soon enough.

Good job, vessel.

MK feels warm. It burns.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s deliberating back at his hideout about where his newest statues should go when he hears a sharp gasp from behind him. He turns, and Mei is looking at him with something that looks like horror, but that can’t be right. Why would she be horrified by something so beautiful?

“MK?” she starts, cautiously. “What…happened to you? You look really bad, why are you wearing blue?”

“I like the color!” he asserts. “And I’m fine!”

She purses her lips, and then tries again.

“Um...MK. What is this?” She points to the frozen menagerie behind him.

MK does not pout, even though he feels like he should.

“You ruined the surprise,” he grumbles, arms crossed over his chest. “I stopped all the bad guys! See?” he gestures to them. “Now they can’t hurt anyone.”

There’s a pause, before Mei can catch up, where MK asks, “Hey, do you think people would want to put them in a museum?” He taps his chin with his index finger, deliberating.

“How did you...does Monkey King have powers like this?” she tries, a third time.

“No, I don’t,” MK jumps at the sound of Monkey King’s voice. Monkey King floats down on his cloud, hopping off and looking at MK with an air of suspicion. “Kid, how are you doing this? Why are you doing this?”

“‘Cause they hurt you guys,” MK has been itching for a chance to explain, to get someone to understand. “And the-my head voice gave me the idea. Once these guys are all gone, everyone can be safe, and no one will leave!”

“Head voice?” Pigsy comes from behind a pillar. “MK, what are you talking about?”

“You know, the voice in your head that sounds like you?” He explains. “It-it told me how to do it. And I’m not a carbon copy of Monkey King, it makes sense that I’d have a few new powers, you know?”

“No,” Tang appears, from somewhere.

When did all of his friends get here? He can see Sandy, Mo in tow on his shoulder, peeking in.

“You shouldn’t have any deviations. Maybe your transformations would be different, but to go so far as to have ice powers?” Tang pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and his glasses flash. “That shouldn’t be possible, given Monkey King’s power set.”

“What’s going on, kid?” Sandy’s voice is very soft, as he approaches, just like when they were on the boat.

“Nothing!” MK’s voice is cheery as ever. “I’m just fixing things, okay? I think you need to ˢcͪhͧiͭllͧᵖ ʷoͧʲuͥᶰtᵍ,” he reaches forward, and Sandy and Mo are ice.

Mei screams.

“What?” MK looks on, bewildered, as his friends stare at him in horror. “He’ll be fine! It doesn’t hurt. I’ve been freezing for ages! It gets warm after a while.”

His eyes glow, and Tang pales.

“Baigujing,” he breathes, and MK turns to him.

“What about her?” he asks, and Tang puts a hand to his mouth, biting his lip and glancing between the rest of the group and MK, unsure.

“Bud,” Monkey King takes a few cautious steps toward MK, as if MK were a cornered animal. His feet slip a little on the ice, but not enough to stop his careful approach. His tail is poised and very still, not so much as a twitch from it. “I think you’re feeling a bit...um, scrambled right now. Why don’t you hand me the staff, and we can talk about this?” He gives MK a soft smile, but MK frowns.

If he takes the staff you can’t finish your work! Does he think you don’t deserve it anymore?

“But I need it,” he responds, simple and to the point. “It’s mine.” Right? Because Monkey King gave it to him. Gifts can’t be taken back, right? MK’s still worthy, right?

Monkey King takes a deep breath, like he’s biting back a retort.

“Preeeeetty sure I let you borrow it. ‘S called ‘Monkey King’s Staff’ for a reason, bud. C’mon.”

Another step forward. MK grips the staff tighter.

“MK, please,” Tang calls from his other side.

Don’t let him take it!

“We need you to let go!” Mei’s voice hits his ears.

They’re all lying to you!

“Kid-I-c’mon, just let ‘em have it and we can go home,” Pigsy’s voice breaks, and MK feels like he’s going to break with it.

Is he even going to let you keep your home?!

Monkey King is close enough that MK can feel the heat of his power emanating off of him, of the great Sun Wukong. His paws are soft and somehow even warmer than his power as he curls them around MK’s grip on the staff.

They don’t understand! They’re going to abandon you!

“That’s it, easy does it,” Relief colors Monkey King’s tone, and he smiles at MK as if MK were the sun. It’s too soft to be true. “Just hand it over, and we’ll make sure everything’s okay, alright?”

He starts to tug, pulling the staff out of MK’s grip ever so gently, and MK flinches as the voice rings loud in his ear.

YOU NEED IT DON’T LET HIM TAKE IT FROM YOU HE’LL RUIN EVERYTHING—

“It’s MͫIͥᶰNͤE!” MK shouts, and he slams the side of it into Monkey King’s stomach and launches his mentor across the room.

Monkey King crashes into the wall, groaning as he pushes away the falling rubble. MK’s eyes are wild.

“It’s mine, and you can’t have it! I need it!” Ice crawls over his right hand, cementing his grip.

Tang sees it, takes a step back, and turns to the two horrified bystanders.

“Run!” he shouts, and Mei bolts. Pigsy stares, motioning for Tang to run, but Tang is too close to MK to do anything.

“What’d you do that for?” MK frowns, lowering a hand onto Tang’s shoulder. Pigsy makes a choked sound.

“Go! Bajie, get out of here!” Tang shouts, far more desperate than MK expected. Why is everyone so terrified? This is just a misunderstanding.

“Okay, tͭiͦmͦeˡ ͣoͭuͤt ͭfͦorͬ ͧᶰyˢoͣᶰuᶻᵃᶰᵍ,” MK pats Tang’s shoulder once, and Tang is rooted to the spot. MK freezes him slower, because Tang isn’t strong, merely smart. And if he does it slow, then he doesn’t have to chisel away the extra later.

Mei comes roaring in on her bike, and she picks up Pigsy by the back of his chef’s coat, throws him on the back of her bike, and zooms off.

“Tang!” Pigsy screams, but his voice gets farther and farther away.

“What’s wrong?” MK is so confused. He looks to Monkey King, who is just sitting there on his cloud, horrified.

“Sun Wukong,” Tang says, voice hard. The ice is up to his chest. “Get out of here. Bajie is going to be a wreck after this.”

“Can you make sense!” MK throws his hands up, tired of being ignored, talked over, walked over. “Or at least ˢsͪtͧoͭp ͧᵖtalking!” And Tang goes silent, frozen.

MK turns back to Monkey King, and finds that his mentor has vanished.

Well, that won’t do.

After them!

MK jumps onto a disk of ice and slides across stone, feet still as the ice barrels over any obstacle, leading him past the dead sliver of a great mountain and up onto the streets. Mei just has made her way to ground level, aided up by Monkey King, and MK zeroes in on them.

They pass by cars, and MK ignores the blaring horns as he slides over city streets. The ice trailing behind him makes cars swerve out of control, but he needs to get to his friends. They have to understand. This is all for them!

The ice shoots forward, and he gets closer and closer, until Mei’s back wheel hits frost and the back of the bike jerks one way, the front the other. The bike slips onto its side with immediacy, and Pigsy and Mei go sprawling as Mei’s bike falls apart, skidding across the ice.

Oh no.

“Mei!” he runs to her side.

She groans, her bike suit torn. He doesn’t even think about Pigsy at the moment, too worried about his best friend to think of the other person he hurt. Plus, Pigsy’s a full grown adult, and MK has never seen Pigsy hurt like Mei is, so it doesn’t even register that Pigsy could be as injured as she is. Her left arm has a large patch of skin that’s been burnt off by the road, and her legs are bleeding from various places. Thankfully, she was wearing a helmet, so MK doesn’t have to worry about something so serious.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Where does it hurt? I’m sorry!”

Some ice might help with the pain.

Right, right, icing the wound always helps. He goes to make some, the power swirling in his hand, when a horn from a car blares, making him wince.

Gosh, humans. They’re so annoying! If they could just stay out of the way, because he needs to fix this, that’d be great.

Remember the pause button?

It seems very inviting. MK nods.

Right. A pause button.

“Just a sec, Mei,” he leaves her groaning on the ground, turning to face the city.

He slams his staff into the ground.

Ice shoots out in a wild dash. It crawls over and into everything. Cars, buildings, people—everything freezes. He hears some screams, and watches people try and run for the hills, but the cold is faster. It billows down the streets, kicking up a white haze that is almost impossible to see through, that the pedestrians tripping on ice and solidifying get lost in, but it’s a snowy sheen that MK sees through perfectly. He can see the polished figures of buildings, glistening beneath their ice, the little mounds that must be people beneath the thick layer of ice.

It’s all so pristine. So perfect.

Finally.

MK is glad for the quiet. With him and himself in his head, it’s hard to deal with outside noise. He just needed a moment of calm, to get to the task at hand.

The task at hand...Mei!

“Mei, are you—” he stops. Mei and Pigsy aren’t there.

His eyes search for them, and he can see Monkey King hurriedly pulling them up onto his cloud. “Wait!”

Monkey King looks at him, and MK’s face is pleading. He just wants to do right. Why don’t they understand? Once he fixes it all, everyone will be happy. Can’t they wait?

“Sorry, bud,” Monkey King says.

MK doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. A rush of panic tries to grip his brain, something that was once so familiar, something that was once so him, but it disappears in MK’s desperation to act.

The cloud zooms off. He throws a hand out, running after it.

“NO!”

This is just like his dream. At the edge of the city, a wall of ice rises. It sparkles in the light of the setting sun, and MK raises it higher, and higher, as Monkey King and Mei and Pigsy and everyone he cares about most gets farther and farther away.

Monkey King punches through the ice, and they disappear into the horizon.

MK drops to his knees. They land hard on the frozen ground.

“You said they wouldn’t leave,” he whimpers out, crying because it hurts and he doesn’t know exactly why.

It’s more than just regular pain. Something warm and different and yet familiar stings. Something knows this isn’t right, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go! If this was the right thing to do, why would everyone leave?

“I have to stop!” The words are forced out of his mouth.

MK doesn’t know when the words are him and when the words are something else. He doesn’t know who he is. What’s right? What’s wrong? How can he tell?

He’s just been listening to his own head, but his own head is arguing with itself.

He slams his free fist into his temple, to try and make things settle.

Chains drag him to the ground, leaving him stuck.

You are doing everything just right.

The voice is soft in one ear, but on the other side MK hears No! On repeat. No, this isn’t right. You froze good people. Innocent people! You froze Tang and Sandy! You made Pigsy cry! You hurt Mei!

They don’t understand yet. Monkey King is notoriously stubborn. He isn’t ready for his successor to pass him yet. All you have to do is wait for them to come back. And they will.

It’s harder and harder to hear the argument against this.

The voice sounds so self assured. The warmth that doesn’t burn gets weaker and weaker, like a fire out of kindling.

He wheezes, and tears turn to snowflakes on his skin. He chokes on his own breath. It comes out white and fogs his vision, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Everyone’s gone.

He’s alone.

This can’t be right.

It is. You just haven’t done enough yet.

That, MK understands. The need to do more, be more. It makes far more sense that he hasn’t done enough, than anything else.

“They’ll come back?” He asks, and his voice sounds so loud in the quiet. He feels a hand brush his hair back. He leans into the touch, but it’s gone.

Of course.

MK stands. The chains vanish, and he smiles.

“Okay then! Let’s get to work!”

He hasn’t let go of the staff in ages. He doesn’t think he can. He turns to the mess he’d made in his rush job, the frozen city’s statue. He has to fix that, it’s unsightly! Mei and Pigsy and Monkey King won’t like a mess.

As he plans, as he hopes, he feels a smile in the back of his head. It feels like a snowball to his skull, chilling and yet a comfort, somehow.

Wonderful work, Vessel. We’re going to do great things together.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #possession au #monkie kid mk #sun wukong #monkie kid monkey king #monkie kid mei #monkie kid red son #red son #kitkat1003

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enigmas-artdeck · 4 years ago

Text

The Cold Felt Familiar

(Skitters in) HEY Y'ALL WANT ANGST?

Related to this, it’s quite the time with his bud, but not for long~. Buckle up buckaroos, angst is coming.

Also on AO3!

He should've seen it coming, he's used the same trick before. Promises of improvement, strength, power-

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to get him back? You were so close back then, before he was granted his empty title-"

He'd wanted nothing more to burst in and pull 2 havocs in Heaven himself for the sheer disrespect from the Heavenly Court. Bi Wa Men, a lowly stable keeper, wasn't a wonder why he stormed out. Oh yeah, giving him the title Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, only as a way to keep him complacent, that won't turn out bad at all.

"-Being trapped under Five-Finger Mountain-"

He swore, he screamed, he declared, he did everything without care for volume and respect once he found out about the imprisonment. Scoured that mountain for decades, never finding a trace of his friend anywhere. Ran himself raw, searching and pleading for anything or anyone to grant him mercy and let him find his lost companion.

They never did like him anyway.

"-Going on the journey with Golden Cicada and his disciples-"

His blood boiled at that, the journey being the sole reason Wukong was…different. He was still impulsive and hearty, going to Heaven for bi-yearly fights, unafraid to fight anything, chaotic as ever.

But in the fight at the mountains, after stealing Monkie Kid's powers, he knew Wukong was holding back. He heard all the tales (however scrambled they became over the centuries), and had seen himself the power he held. He could've leveled the area and be done with the dispute in mere minutes. They fought, that's true, but the only reason he was beat was because of the kid.

Wukong didn't even have the dignity to strike him down himself, relying on a trainee who'd needed his powers locked up.

It was downright laughable, nay, pathetic at how Wukong was holding back because of one journey.

"-Before he struck you dead."

Oh.

Ah, the one experience he had with death. The one where even after blotting out and ripping his name from the book had him checking over his shoulder and hiding in the shadows for a century in f- caution. It was that long before he realized Wukong did the same thing and no one went after him again (the others don't count, that was Heaven trying to remove his immortality).

Every time he saw his scar, he couldn't help but flinch. It still seemed fresh, still felt raw. His red facial marking didn't help either. (Keeping the glamor was second nature to him after all these centuries. He likes causing nightmares, not having them.)

Wukong didn't hold back then.

He took a deep breath, frosty air chilling his lungs as he turned to the young girl holding the spirit whispering promises laced with shards of ice and flakes of snow.

"Deal." He sneered.

(Macaque didn't want to think about the freezing light crawling down his throat. Too familiar. Too frightening.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ

Having a body mate was weird, but he learned to tune it out for the most part. Acquiring her ice abilities gave him an edge no one saw, and having her on energy sensory lookout helped with telling who's who and keeping tabs on the shady folk. Added a bonus in battle since she could warn him of any ambushers.

Though there were a couple...nitpicks he had.

Macaque had noticed with each new shadow clone, they turned just the teeniest shade bluer, thankfully not visibly noticeable to other folk yet.

Oftentimes when he summoned his staff, the spikes were coated in thin layers of ice. He rather let the blood flow from his enemies, thank you (though he rarely did more than a passing glance).

Even his shadow smoke form was tinged blue, frost trailing up the wrapping adorning it.

No matter, Macaque could handle this, he was flexible in his strategies (certainly helped with stealing Sun Wukong's power from the kid.) He would rather do without the personal physical changes.

Despite how many layers he covered himself with, his fur and skin stayed cool to the touch. Was a great help in traveling to the warmer sections of the area. With the drawback of visiting anything below 15 °C intensifying the chill.

His face marking, the brilliant red he associated with power, ferocity, hurt, had blue creeping along his eyes. It looked to be icing out in crystalline patterns if he got close enough to reflections.

And his scar, the reminder of why he didn't just remove the spirit he was housing, stayed iced over even in his current setup in the Flaming Mountains.

Ah well, a quick glamor could fix those up. Right now he needed to strategize a way to get Wukong off Flower Fruit Mountain, separating him from the kid and the menagerie.

(Macaque rose from sleep littered with some cuts and bruising. Didn't notice his camp was a few miles closer to Flower Fruit Mountain. Couldn't notice the blue fading back into gold sclera.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ

"What the hell was that?"

Macaque snarled at his reflection, the outline of White Bone Spirit staring back at him with nonchalance.

"I helped you win the battle and retreat, is that not what you wanted?"

It was going so well, Wukong managed to be separated with a few shadow clones and simple visual and vocal glamours. The recent attack (more like stolen power-high frenzy. Paint crudely helped hide the Demon Bull family's emblem) from the Gold and Silver Demon Brothers managed to split the group up. It was a simple send off of the right fakes to the right area after they split.

Once Wukong was below and far enough, Macaque made his entrance discreetly, ambushing him just as the other caught wind of something off.

And it was going great for a while, without his staff Wukong was forced to fight harder. Wasn't close to the levels of Wukong back in the day, but more than the mountain battle. And the sheer thrill of it, seeing his "bud" let loose more, feeling the higher thrum of energy, oh gloriously maddening!

At least until a quick quip about the fake Wukong acting his part of the plan slipped out. Macaque found himself with too warm a liquid dripping out of his nose and mouth, from a punch and kick respectively.

The clarity at which he saw the unfiltered rage made the haze feel less like fog and more like a spotlight.

It was touch and go for a bit after that, but after a harsh, nearly numbing kick had Macaque gasping for breath, he asked for a boost as he wide eyed the threatening advance.

Blinding blues and white crept over his vision's edge, making Wukong's painfully shocked and horrified face the last thing he saw. Macaque regretted calling his power forth.

"I wanted a power boost, not a power surge blackout!"

"You received the power, but you were already on the verge of blacking out. I'm sorry it made you do so-"

"Excuses, excuses, that won't change the fact of what happened." Macaque turned away, only his eyes giving away his surprise, coming face to face with the cyan glow of White Bone Spirit.

"...Since when could you do that?"

"When I'm not active."

"'When I'm not-' you mean to tell me you can pop out willy nilly? You didn't tell me this before?" Exasperation dropped in his tone, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

"It never came up, this situation is different from humans. With your power, I couldn't-"

"I don't care, you're out." Held up his hands, moving forward, wanting to be done and gone from her.

"I'm sorry-" She made no effort move out of his way, so he walked through.

"I don't want an apology, I want you out, gone, see ya! Deal's off, get your ice and leave-!"

"-But the body isn't yours now."

Realization dawned on him once he passed through. Macaque froze.

As in the body stopped responding to any movement he willed.

"Oh, what's wrong? Can't move what was yours?" Cyan and white passed around behind him, swirling in the air as she skimmed her chilled fingers up his neck.

"Well then, I suppose there isn't anything special about you." She cupped his face, drawing in close, her eyes filling his entire vision. In the cold white, he could see his own gold turn deep, icy blue.

"You're just a macaque with nothing left." With that she drew back into the body.

Hundreds of eyes gleamed from the shadows, some stretching out on shapes familiar- himself- but wrong. He willed his body to move forward, to turn, to fall, do anything to get him away from the twisted glowing outlines as they approached.

He didn't even so much as jolt when the screaming skeletal face flooded his internal vision, bringing an icy air with her. Forcing to stare at the eternally screaming maw, dark icy hands grabbed hold and pulled down, with him along.

No sound left him, not even a gasp.

(The bleakness made him want to flee.)

(The chill made him want to scream.)

(The nothing made him want to cry.)

(Macaque did.)

θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ θ

Wukong slammed into the volcano's side, smoke and ash obscuring his vision. Blue cut through the thick black, having him reach back into the lava. Red and black shot to the unwelcome color, but turned to white powder before reaching the target.

"Aw, what's wrong Great Sage?"

Okay, this was bad, this was wa-a-ay bad, but distance was key, if he could get distance he could vanish and regroup with MK-

When did the molten rock turn to ice?

Wukong feverishly tugged at his right side, the ice crawling up his limbs, spreading out over stone and lava alike.

He made the mistake of turning around.

A blue eye with a pinprick snowflake iris nearly touched his own golden eye. Steam rose out past their fangs, doing nothing to help the chill rolling off.

"You look like you've seen a ghost!"

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plasticnightmaredoll · 4 years ago

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(art commission by the lovely and talented @curious-menace)

It is a time where I would like to see what my followers think about various concepts I have in mind pertaining to alternate versions of one my fics. It may take some time to write out any alternate versions since I've been busy and stressed out so much lately, but I am very curious as to what others would find intriguing to read.

But first, some backstory so be patient. We'll get to the voting at the end of this post.

I've been having a lot of bad days lately, and my mood has plummeted to a major low. This includes my self-esteem, which has always been in the dumps but is now basically a dumpster fire.

However, I don't want to be entirely cruel to myself. I deserve some sort of happiness, some sort of reprieve, and writing can be a good coping mechanism. I put a lot of my own thoughts, emotions, struggles, opinions, etc. into my works, as they serve as a way for me to get things off my chest. Sometimes, it's just cute and funny stuff, other times angsty but eventually fluffy stuff, and other times it's quite depressing and dark.

One fic, in particular, stands out, and that is the Mortal Kombat/Batman Arkhamverse crossover, "Volunteer," (trigger warnings: mentions psychological torture and suicide...more about this fic in a bit for those who would rather not read it because of those triggers) which features Arkham Knight Edward Nigma and Jonathan Crane, as well as a lady friend for Edward named Sara. It also features Erron Black and Cassie Cage from Mortal Kombat (Cassie is only mentioned in the story a few times).

If you read the blog intro/self-introduction post pinned at the top of my Tumblr, you know very well how I feel about Cassie Cage (particularly in MK11) and the Erron Black x Cassie Cage (BlackCage) pairing. Those negative feelings are mostly due to a very bad experience with a pushy BlackCage fan who just wouldn't relent one bit on their stance and it was emotionally and mentally draining to try and talk to them, including providing counter-arguments.

I've come up with alternate versions for "Volunteer" recently due to the spike in stress, depression, anxiety, and insecurities I've been dealing with as of late. This is where my followers come in!

I would like people to vote on which alternate take on "Volunteer" they would be interested in reading. Now, I can't guarantee when I'd get to it because, as I mentioned already, I've got a lot going on. However, I really want to try and write at least one alternate version of that fic, just to get some insecurities and negative thoughts off my chest.

Now, for those who are wary of reading "Volunteer" because of the trigger warnings, here's my advice: Just read the first chapter, if you want to. Chapter 2 deals directly with the sensitive subject matter, although, you can probably guess what happens anyway just by reading Chapter 1 and if you know anything about Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow...well, he likes to mess with people...mentally. To put it very mildly.

Now it's time for the voting. I have three different scenarios I've come up with that are variations/alternate versions of the current "Volunteer" fic's concept/storyline. I'd like followers to select 1 (one) alternate telling of the fic. I will open anonymous asks again, so if you are shy or just want your vote to remain a secret for some other reason, then that's fine by me. Otherwise, you can reply to this post with your choice.

Edit: if you are turned off by the idea of a Mortal Kombat/Batman Arkhamverse crossover, I get it. I don't read crossover fics myself, and that's usually because the crossovers either make no sense or do make sense but the ideas are poorly executed.

This crossover I'm talking about, though, isn't a full-on crossover of MK and Batman. There's no world-building, no larger plot, and no other characters in MK even appear or are mentioned except Erron Black and Cassie Cage.

If anything, it's more of a Batman Arkhamverse standard AU with Riddler and a female oc, and Erron and Cassie are the only concrete elements of MK brought in. I mean, yes, the other MK characters exist, I guess, but they have no purpose in this crossover I've written, and won't make any appearances.

So, if you had any concerns about the crossover aspect, I hope this clears things up

Choices below the cut!

A) "Don't You Wish"

This version is inspired by a song from Pink, called, "There You Go." In this alternate telling, Erron manages to survive Scarecrow's fear toxin, and escape (most likely because Erron is out of his mind and panicking, thus not a threat, and he has no one to help him, so Scarecrow doesn't give a damn what happens to the dude). The first thing Erron does is go to Sara's place, having already broken up with Cassie after realizing dating her was a mistake, and Sara means more to him than he thought.

Well, it's been several months since Sara basically pushed Erron out of her life for his poor choice in women, and (Arkham Knight) Edward Nigma has proven to be a much better (and, wiser and more sensible -- yes, I know, but he's not a skirt chaser, Guys) friend to Sara. While Erron ran off with a blonde selfie princess, Edward offered genuine comfort and companionship, and now Sara has been in the process of moving on from Erron even further.

Sara humors Erron and lets him tell her -- while sounding terrified, confused, and conflicted beyond belief thanks to the fear toxin -- what happened to him. Now, Sara doesn't know Edward asked Scarecrow to take care of Erron as a means of getting revenge for her. Doesn't matter anyway. She's unsympathetic towards Erron's plight, feeling as if he didn't even give her a chance to confess her feelings towards him, nor did he even seem to notice how she felt; it was like he was too busy with thinking with his privates to realize he had someone in front of him who would have treated him better.

Sara tells Erron -- in a flat, disinterested tone -- that his situation is tragic and all but wtf is she supposed to do? Why not go to his dumb blonde gf? Oh, they broke up? Well, how predictable. And Crane is also a (sort of) friend to Sara, which shocks Erron and leaves him feeling worse than before.

Sara sends Erron on his way, and he wanders off in a daze, unsure of what to do with his life now.

Sara and Edward meet the next day, and they have a pleasant time, obviously moving towards becoming a couple. She chooses not to mention Erron as she is completely severing the cowboy from her life.

B) "I Don't Even Miss You"

This alternate telling is similar to the previous one, but this time it's inspired by a Miley Cyrus song, "WTF Do I Know" (Hey, her Plastic Hearts album is actually fantastic!), and Edward is with Sara when Erron arrives at her place in a distressed state. At first, Sara deals with Erron in the hall of her apartment building, unsympathetic to his plight and basically telling him, "I told you so," and "too bad." Erron is getting more and more upset, even angry at Sara's callous tone, and starts to raise his voice, demanding to know why she is being so cold at a time like this?

Edward overhears Erron raising his voice to Sara, giving her a difficult time, and he gets pissed. Edward steps out into the hall and not only mocks Erron in various ways, but demands that he leave immediately, or what Scarecrow did will seem like a trip to Disney Land. Erron has caused Sara -- who is currently moving on and growing closer to Edward -- enough problems and heartache.

Edward reveals he set up Erron, and while Sara is stunned to find this out, she handles it better than expected. Edward said it was his way of getting revenge for her, and he'd do it again if need be. Erron is sent away feeling so much worse, feeling lost, hopeless, and betrayed.

Sara and Edward talk and she admits she's upset that he did something like this without speaking about it to her first. However, he explains that he genuinely did it for her and he doesn't want her to feel pain at the hands of some "idiotic cowman," who doesn't consider the feelings of others and who behaves like a greedy, violent Neanderthal. (And yes, Edward does care for Sara, and he didn't send Scarecrow after Erron out of jealousy -- maybe a little jealousy but it was mostly rage over Erron causing Sara so much emotional pain)

Sara means more to Edward than he can express, and he may not be the best when it comes to emotions, but he does care about her and wants her to be safe.

Sara forgives Edward, understanding that, through his heartfelt but very nervous and shy confession that he is sincere about his feelings for her, and they make amends. She of course tells him to never do something so extreme without consulting her first, though, because what happened to Erron -- while she doesn't care what happens to him in the slightest -- was a bit too much.

C) "Listen When the Devil's Calling"

Another title inspired by a Miley Cyrus song, "Night Crawling," and this alternate telling involves Telltale Riddler and no Scarecrow. Almost a year has passed since Erron went with Cassie and Sara, out of bitterness and heartache, refused to speak or see him. This didn't sit well with him as she was his only friend, and his relationship with Cassie dies within a few months.

He goes looking for Sara, realizing she has moved out of her apartment. It doesn't take him long to find out where she is, and she's with The Riddler, a notorious criminal genius and one of Gotham's elite villains. Erron is worried for Sara and seeks her out.

Turns out, Sara's just fine. This isn't one of those scenarios where the girl is with a guy who just using her and taking advantage of her vulnerability. No, Edward does actually love her and takes good care of her. He finds people like reckless, selfish, and ignorant people like Erron to be a disgrace but also amusing because of how pathetically primitive they are.

Edward also doesn't appreciate how Erron pushed aside a good thing in Sara to pursue a girl who is a social media brat and has more selfies on her phone than brain cells in her, well, brain. It defies all logic to Edward, but he's also not surprised because of how much of a disappointment Erron is as a human being (hey, this is Riddler we're talking about, and he's not one to be sweet and gentle to those he can't stand). Edward doesn't say these things out loud, though, as it's a bit too vulnerable and personal for him to do such a thing with someone he doesn't know or trust.

Sara is upset that Erron has resurfaced and she remembers how heartbroken she was when he went after Cassie Cage. She wants Erron to leave her alone like she asked, so she can move on. She can't trust him anymore, because he's just a skirt chaser in her eyes.

Erron tries to plead his case, tries to apologize to Sara, and expresses how he really feels, but this just distresses her further. Edward steps in and tells Erron he's done enough to Sara, she clearly doesn't want to see him, and he needs to take his leave.

This isn't a request.

Edward pulls Erron aside, telling the cowboy that the only reason he's going to walk away from this alive is that Sara hasn't asked for him to be killed. Should she tell Edward to take care of Erron, well, you all know what Telltale Riddler is like.

And those are the three variations on "Volunteer."

If you could be so kind as to:

leave a comment with your choice or

send an ask (even an anon ask) with your choice or

suggest your take on this story.

I'd appreciate it immensely!

Thank you all so much for supporting me and my writing and being patient with my sluggish publishing schedule!

#edward nigma #riddler #arkham knight riddler #edward nigma x oc #riddler x oc #edward nygma #edward nygma x oc #crossover fic #arkhamverse #arkham riddler #telltale riddler

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krat395 · 3 years ago

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Gorgeously Glamorous Gargalesis (Chapter 1)

Happy 6th Anniversary to Undertale! Yay! :D It sure doesn’t feel like it’s been six years already but it has! OMG! And to celebrate, here is the first chapter of a lengthy story; first of ten, believe it or not. Taking place one day after “Laugh For Us, King Fluffybuns” and three days before the first seven chapters of “W.D. Gaster, the Ultimate Tickle Master,” Asriel and MK get themselves into a real ticklish situation at MK’s house; one approved by MK’s mother, Lydia, and orchestrated by a “fabulous” house guest. ;) But before we dive into that, let’s take some time to meet a special, talented little guy, whose role in this story might be more important than you think. X3

******************************************

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

******************************************

GORGEOUSLY GLAMOROUS GARGALESIS

Chapter 1: Baby Lizard! :D

It is a Tuesday afternoon; 3:30pm to be exact; and just recently, MK and his mother, Lydia, arrived at their home after a full day of school. But they're not alone however. Accompanying them is Prince Asriel Dreemurr, who promised to hang out with MK today after school while his two sisters and MK's kid sister are off at a slumber party; and Rocco (MK's father), who has been home most of the day due to having a day off from work. Asriel and MK don’t have anything in particular that they want to do today after school. They just want to spend some time with each other, that’s all. It’s been a while since the two of them hung out together without Frisk and/or Chara accompanying them.

Rocco: Hey, hey! Look who's here! *said Rocco with a smile, noticing his wife, older son, and Asriel right as he was about to put a pan of lasagna in the oven*

Lydia: Heeheeheeheehee! Hey there, handsome. *said Lydia in response, smiling and kissing Rocco on his left cheek* Heeheeheehee! *she then giggled after noticing that she made him blush X3*

Rocco: Hehe. W-wow! Perfect timing, you three! I was just about to put the lasagna in the oven!

Lydia: Heeheehee! Yeah, I can see that. X3

MK: Lasagna?! We're having lasagna?! *asked MK excitedly with a big sharp-toothed smile on his face, mere seconds before wagging his tail to further express his excitement* Oh man, what's the occasion?

Rocco: Haha! No occasion, champ. *lied Rocco* We just haven't had it for a while and your mother and I thought it sounded good for a change. Hahaha! Right, honey? *he then asked Lydia while winking at her*

Lydia: Heeheehee! That's right! *Lydia agreed, winking back at Rocco* Heeheeheehee! (It will serve as a reward for taking part in a fun little afternoon activity orchestrated by a very special friend of ours and approved by yours truly. Tee hee!)

MK: Haha! Well alrighty then! If you insist! Just be sure to save at least one piece for GK since she won't be joining us tonight.

Rocco: Haha! I'll do you one better, champ! I'll save her at least two!

MK: Hehe. Awesome! And some garlic bread to go with it?

Rocco: G-garlic bread?! *asked Rocco, pretending to be offended by his son's innocent question just to mess with him*

Lydia: *gasp* Uh oh! Now you've done it, honey puff! *Lydia then said to MK in response; to add to Rocco's little joke*

Rocco: You think we're having garlic bread with the lasagna?!

MK: Y-yes? *answered MK both awkwardly and nervously in response*

Rocco: Well… you're absolutely right, champ! *Rocco then said in the friendliest tone imaginable while showing his son a pan with slices of garlic bread on it*

Lydia: Heeheeheeheeheehee! Oh, you. Heeheeheeheehee!

MK: Aw, Dad! Again?! Come on! *shouted MK with a bit of an irritated tone in his voice*

Asriel: Pfffffffff… Hahahahahahaha!!! Oh, man; he got you again, MK! Hahahahaha!!! Good one, Rocco!

Rocco: Haha! Thanks, Azzy! Hahaha! Glad to know that at least one of you boys appreciates my jokes! *Rocco then said jokingly while grinning cheekily at MK* Ehehehehehe!

Rocco loves teasing his son and one of his ways of doing so is changing his friendly tone of voice for a brief moment to give MK the impression that he might be in trouble only for MK to find out that he isn't actually in trouble at all. Rocco's a jokester like that. ;)

MK: H-hey! I-I-I a-appreciate them! *stammered MK in defense* I do!

Rocco: Hehe. Are you sure about that, champ? *Rocco then asked with a mischievous sharp-toothed smile while scooping MK up into his arms* Are you suuuuuure?

MK: Eeeeeeeep! Yes, I'm sure! *shouted MK nervously in response*

Rocco: Are you really sure? *Rocco then asked as he proceeded to hold MK upside down*

MK is now being held upside down by Rocco! Rocco is strong enough to hold MK upside down with just one arm (either arm; but in this case, his left arm); usually with a secure and comfortable grip around both of MK's ankles; and while holding MK upside down with one arm, he is then able to do whatever he pleases to MK's feet. And that will be easy because MK's soles are currently facing upwards directly underneath Rocco's chin with the whole backside of his body up against Rocco himself.

MK: AHHHHHHHHHHH!! YES, DAD, I'M SURE!! *shouted MK once more; this time more frantically* EEEEEEEEEEEEP!! I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE SURE ABOUT ANYTHING IN MY LIFE!!

Rocco: Hahaha! Really? Hahaha! Well, good! It pleases me greatly to hear you say that, champ!

MK: I-it does? Hehe. Awesome!

Lydia: Heeheeheehee! Yes! Super awesome, honey puff! *Lydia agreed*

Rocco: Haha! Yes, it is; I agree. *Rocco then chimed in while intertwining his own tail with MK's; just in case MK decides to try anything funny with his tail during the next while* Ehehehehe. But not nearly as awesome as this! *he then claimed with a mischievous smile, beginning a ticklish assault on MK's bare soles with every single clawed finger on his free hand* Hahahahaha! Coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo!

At that moment, Rocco began tickling MK's yellow three-toed feet with his free hand fingers, scribbling each of them wildly against his extremely sensitive soles. What followed of course was several squeaks and frantic laughter from the young reptilian boy, who couldn't pull his feet away from his father's fingers no matter how hard he tried. X3

MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *SQUEAK* DAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAD, NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!! *MK involuntary pleaded through his laughter, wiggling frantically in his father's grasp and flailing his robotic arms as a means of dealing with his current tickle torture* HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHA!!! DAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAD, HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHA, WHY ME?!?! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHA!!! TICKLE AZ INSTEAD!!! *he then suggested while continuing to laugh; just seconds before he inadvertently exposed his bare scaly belly* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHA!!! HE'S OUR GUEST, REEHEEHEEHEEHEEMEMBEHEHEHER?!?! *SQUEAK* HAHAHHAAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Rocco: Hahaha! Yes, champ, I'm aware. *said Rocco with a chuckle, right as he began wiggling his fingers all willy-nilly in between and underneath his son's toes* Which reminds me; Azzy, get his belly! *he then suggested with an "evil" sharp-toothed grin, causing Asriel to perk up* Come on! You know you want to! Hahahahahaha!

MK: HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! WHAHAAHAHHAAT?!?! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!! *MK pleaded through his laughter, shocked that Rocco requested that Asriel should assist in tickle torturing him; even though in retrospect, he probably should’ve seen it coming* HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! DOHOHOHOHOHOHHON'T LISTEN TO HIM, AZ!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! PLEEHEEHEEHEEASE DOHOHOHON'T LISTEN!!! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Asriel did not listen to MK’s pleas. When given a chance to tickle his precious reptilian friend, he almost never refuses! ;)

Asriel: Hahaha! Yes, sir! You got it!

Lydia: Wait! Azzy! Stop for a second, would you, my dear?

Just as Asriel was about to wreak havoc on MK's belly with his furry fingers, Lydia stopped him; long enough to do something about MK's flailing robotic arms.

Asriel: Uh… ok? What for?

Lydia: I don't want MK hitting you with his robot arms. *answered Lydia, summoning a pair of magic arms made up entirely of magical energy (cyan in color) to hold MK's robot arms above his head; or, in this case, under his head since he’s upside down; and expose his sensitive armpits* Not that he'd do it on purpose or anything. He just loses all sense of control while he’s being tickled.

Asriel: Haha! That he does! *Asriel agreed* Hahahaha! Thank you!

Lydia: Heeheeheeheehee! You’re welcome! Heeheeheeheehee! Now go get him!

And so he did! When given the ok to do so, Asriel wiggled every single one of his fingers against MK’s exposed stomach and sides, especially the area around his bellybutton! What followed of course was more frantic laughter from MK. Much more frantic laughter! Asriel’s fur tickled him so much and once it was combined with his father’s clawed fingers, his laughter shot up an entire octave and his stomach quivered like you would not believe! Constantly trying to pull away from the each set of skillful fingers but to no avail! And it certainly didn’t help that his mother was preventing him from being such a wiggle worm either! The more limited the movement, the more intense the tickle torture is as a whole! Especially with furry fingers wreaking havoc on his exposed scaly belly and sides; and clawed fingers wreaking havoc on his bare scaly feet!

MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! OHOHHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH MY GOHOHOHOHOHOHOSH, YOU GUYS!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! OHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOH MY GOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOSH!!!! *SQUEAK* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! EEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!! STOHOHOHOHOHOP BEFORE I GET LIGHT-HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEADED!!!! *SQUEAK* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEGAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Rocco: Haha! Don’t worry, champ! We’ll let you go very shortly. *assured Rocco, moments before blowing two raspberries on the balls of MK’s feet* Right after some foot raspberries! Pbfffffffffffffffffffffffffff!!! Pbffffffffffffffffffffffffff!!!

Asriel: Heeheehee! And nuzzles! *Asriel chimed in, nuzzling MK’s belly for a few seconds*

MK: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! OHOHOHOHOH GOHOHOHOHOD, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOT FOOHOOHOOHOOT RASPBERRIES!!!! *pleaded MK through his now more explosive laughter* HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! THEY’RE MY WEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEAKNESS!!!! *he inadvertently added, causing Asriel to take a mental note of how effective foot raspberries are against him* AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Whenever Rocco tickles MK while holding him upside down, he tends not to do so for any extended periods of time. Rocco may be a jokester but he’s also very considerate towards others (especially those closest to him) and would never do anything to harm anyone and/or make anyone feel uncomfortable. Not intentionally, anyway. But none of that mattered in the end because the tickle torture came to an abrupt stop the moment everyone in the kitchen heard the sounds of cooing and babbling on a baby monitor.

???: *cooing and babbling*

Lydia: *excited gasp* REX! He’s awake!

Rocco: Hehe. Well he sure got some good rest! I put him down for a nap about 3 hours ago!

Rex: *more babbling and cooing*

Lydia: Oh, he sounds like he's about to start playing. MK, Azzy; you boys should go upstairs and play with him. He'd really love that, you know. Heeheeheehee!

MK: Heeheeheehee! We do! Heeheeheehee! Consider it done!

Asriel: Heeheeheehee! Yeah! Plus, it'll be nice to hold him without Frisk trying to steal him from us.

MK: Hehe. You got that right! She's so baby-crazy!

Lydia: Heeheehee! She is! *agreed Lydia with a giggle* But can you really blame her though? Rex is just too cute for words! Like you boys! Heeheehee!

Asriel and MK: Hehe. Y-yeah. *the two young boys agreed, both of them blushing at Lydia’s comment* Heeheeheehee.

Lydia: Heeheeheehee! Well, go on now. Don't keep him waiting.

MK: Right! ...Heeheehee. Race to the top, Az! *shouted MK as he took off running* Heeheeheeheehee!

Asriel: H-hey! No fair! You got a head start, you cheater! *Asriel chimed in, following behind*

MK: Heeheeheehee! Too bad! Heeheeheheheehee! OOOOOOF!

While running towards the stairs, MK tripped and fell face first on the floor. So clumsy!

Asriel: Oh, dude, are you ok?!?! *asked Asriel all concerned*

MK: Hehe. Y-yeah. I'm ok. *assured MK, immediately bringing himself back up on his feet and in a standing position* Uh, on second thought, l-let's walk upstairs instead, o-ok, dude?

Asriel: Sure. Good idea.

And with that, the young monster boys made their way upstairs to Rex's room. Since Asriel doesn't have any siblings under the age of 3, he is especially excited to see Rex, who, unlike MK, has real arms rather than robotic ones and two rows of spikes on his head rather than just one. Rex is a fun little boy and for a 15-month-old, he's quite talented; capable of performing various tasks that many children his age are incapable of performing; and he does all of them with not just his arms but also his mouth, feet, and tail. Yes, despite the fact that Rex was fortunate enough to hatch with a pair of arms like his father, he makes very frequent usage of his mouth, feet, and tail just like his mother and siblings often do. Though especially his tail, which is unusually long for a lizard monster his age and size. But despite its long length though, he rarely trips over it; and if he's feeling real energetic, which he does a lot of the time, he can stand on it and even hang upside down by it. ;)

MK: Rex. Oh, Rex. Your big bro is back from school. *said MK in a singsongy voice, slowly opening Rex's bedroom door to greet the young toddler himself*

Asriel: And Azzy too! *Asriel chimed in, following MK* Heeheeheehee!

As MK and Asriel entered Rex's room, they saw Rex, who's currently wearing a red sweater and long black pants, sitting on the floor stacking up wooden blocks with letters, numbers, shapes, and symbols on them. Rex loves playing with wooden blocks and one of his favorite things he likes doing with them is stacking them up as high as he can reach and then knocking them over with one or more of his favorite toy weapons and/or his own tail. It’s such a good time! ;) And it’s even more of a good time if he has someone there with him; to watch him knock donwn his tower(s) of blocks and/or lend a hand (or tail) in the "destruction." ;P

Rex: Ah... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Bababababa! Heeheeheehee! *Rex squealed, babbled, and giggled excitedly the moment he heard his big brother's voice, completely stopping what he was doing to greet him (and Asriel too) X3* Ooooooooooooooooooooooo… *he cooed, wagging his tail happily to express his excitement even more*

Asriel: Awwwww! Hey, little guy. It’s so nice to see you; tank top or no tank top. Wait, how come you're not wearing a tank top today, buddy?

MK: Hehe. Same reason Dad's wearing one of his 3-button shirts and jeans. He wanted to look nice for our guest. *MK answered for Rex, scooping Rex up into his robotic arms* Heeheeheeheehee! *he giggled, teasingly poking Asriel's belly a few times with his tail not even one second later*

Asriel: PFFFFF… BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! *Asriel laughed preciously in response, seconds before grabbing MK's tail and simply moving it away from his stomach rather than tickling MK back* HEHEHEHEY!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! DUHUHUHUHUHUDE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

MK: Heeheehee. Well, that and we lowered the temperature a little so you wouldn't be uncomfortable.

Asriel: Heeheeheeheeheeheehee… Aw, dude; you, heeheeheeheeheehee, you didn't have to do that. *said Asriel in response, speaking in short bursts of giggling due to lingering ticklish sensations*

MK: Hehe. Dude, we used to live in Snowdin for goodness sake! We'll be fine. *assured MK*

Asriel: Are you sure?

MK: Oh my gosh, yes! But just to be extra sure, let's ask Rex. Rex…

Rex: Ababa. *babbled Rex in response, looking at MK as he set him back down on the floor*

MK: You ok with it being a little colder in here, bud?

Rex: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! *squealed Rex happily, clapping his hands and feet while standing on his long tail* Heeheeheeheeheehee!

MK: Hehe. Well, I'll take that as a yes. *said MK in response, gently grabbing Rex's legs to play with them a little as he continued standing on his tail* Heeheeheehee. Man, you're full of energy today!

Asriel: Hehe. Well, he did just wake up from a 3-hour nap. *Asriel pointed out*

MK: Hehe. True. Heeheeheehee. So, what do you want to do first, Rex?

Rex: Blaaaaaaaaaaaaabububububu. *said Rex in response, pointing at the wooden blocks he was playing with before MK and Asriel showed up* Gugagutaga… Abeebababaaa. *blows raspberry*

Asriel and MK: Heeheeheeheeheehee. *the two older boys giggled in response*

MK: Heeheehee. Well, alrighty then! But, uh, can Az and I get some fist bumps and high fives from you first?

Rex: YEEEEEEEEEEEEE! *squealed Rex happily in response as MK let go of his legs* Heeheeheeheehee.

Thanks to Rocco, Rex knows how to do high fives and thanks to MK's friend and classmate, Brad (Bravery), Rex knows how to do fist bumps. MK would've taught him how to do both of those things but he didn't have his robot arms at the time; or any type of arms for the matter. But now that MK has robot arms, he has been asking Rex to give him fist bumps and high fives practically every day for the past three months; and the way Rex does so is absolutely adorable and so is the way MK interacts with him while he does them. First, MK holds out his fist for Rex to give him a fist bump and every time Rex gives him one, MK pulls back his fist and jokingly pretends that Rex hurts him, causing Rex, who can always tell that MK’s just kidding around whenever he does that, to giggle in response. Then after that, MK holds up both of his robotic hands for Rex to give him some high fives; double high fives to be exact and Rex always does 3 sets of them. The first set of double high fives is traditional; Rex slaps MK's robotic hands with his own hands. But the second and third sets of double high fives however; those ones are rather unique. Rather than standing up straight on his feet, Rex stands on his tail and slaps MK's hands; first with his own two hands and then with his own two feet. X3

MK: Yay! Feet five! Good job, baby bro! Give Az a fist bump and fives and then we can start playing, ok?

Rex: Okeeeeeeeeeeegagagagagaga! *blows raspberry* Heeheeheeheehee!

Moments later… after Asriel received a fist bump and high fives from Rex…

Asriel: Yay! Way to stand on that tail, little guy!

Rex: Heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee! *giggled Rex in response, positioning himself back on his feet* Meeyataboobu! Babababababa! *he babbled, running over to his toy box to grab some toys*

Toy box: Playtime! It's playtime! Yaaaaaaaaaaaay! Have fun, Rex! *said the toy box in a singsongy voice that sounded like Alphys's voice; because it was Alphys’s voice X3*

Rex: Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!

MK: Hehe. Gotta love Alphys.

Rex is very protective of 4 particular toys of his and to help him protect those 4 toys, Alphys built him a special toy box a few months ago. Only Rex can open the box and he does so by inserting the tip of his long tail inside a small hole that scans his tail. It's a neat little contraption and very toddler-friendly too; always speaking in Alphys's voice to bring a smile to Rex's cute little face. X3 Rex loves Alphys very much and the fact that he's the only one that can open the box she made for him makes him feel pretty dang special too! X33

Asriel: Oh! Is he getting what I think he's getting?

Inside Rex's box are 4 toy weapons; one hammer, one axe, one sword, and one very, very, very special toy weapon that Papyrus made for him for his very first birthday last February. The weapon Papyrus made for him is his favorite toy weapon and whenever it’s not in use, it’s concealed in a red protective toy scabbard. Overall, Rex loves playing with toy weapons. Whether he's using them to knock down wooden block towers or playfully hitting someone with them, he always enjoys himself and never gets tired of playing with them. And while the toy weapon Papyrus made him is his favorite weapon, he enjoys playing with his hammer, axe, and sword just as much. One thing he likes to do is triple-wield. One weapon with his left hand, one weapon with right hand, and one weapon with his tail! :D

Rex: Eeeeegah! Amaboo! Adeedada! *Rex babbled excitedly, simply just for holding a toy hammer in his right hand, a toy axe in his left hand, and a toy sword with his long tail* Heeheeheeheehee!

Asriel: Haha! Yes! But, you, uh, y-you don't have any block towers to destroy though; not any finished ones. So, what are you planning to do with those, little guy?

Rex: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Rararararara…!

All of a sudden, Rex charged towards MK, who was sitting on the floor in a cross-legged position, and went to town attacking him with his toy weapons, starting with his tail.

MK: Eeeep! Rex! Oof! Hey! Oof! W-why are you attacking me?! Oof! You’re… Oof! You’re supposed to be attacking Az, remember? Oof!

He does remember. Rex is just messing with MK right now, that's all. Like Rocco, Rex loves teasing MK and one notable way he does so, besides attacking him with his soft toy weapons, is throwing toys at him. Yes, to tease MK, Rex throws toys at him; soft toys like his stuffed animals to be exact and ones that don't physically harm MK in any way. Oh, but if Rex is mad at MK however, then he'll throw hard toys at him; hard toys like his wooden blocks! And those hurt! And since Rex is a little toddler, there isn't much MK can do other than say to him, "No, Rex! Don't throw toys at MK!" MK's a good sport about it though and fortunately for MK, Rex doesn't get mad at him all that much. :)

Asriel: Haha! No, don't attack me, Rex! Keep attacking MK! He deserves it!

Rocco: Hahaha! That he does, young man. *said Rocco with a chuckle as he entered the bedroom to check on the boys, startling Asriel a little due to his all of a sudden appearance* Hahaha!

Asriel: O-Oh, h-hey, Rocco. *said Asriel awkwardly after being startled by Rocco's all of a sudden appearance*

Rocco: Haha! Yo! Dinner will be a while so I thought I'd check in on you boys; to see how you're doing.

Asriel: Great! We're doing great! Haha! Right, MK? Right, Rex?

Rex: *babbles in agreement*

MK: Haha! Yeah! Haha! Oof! Rex! Oof! Ok, come on, bud; joke's over! Oof! Go attack Az now, please! Oof!

Rex: Raaaaaaaaaaaaa! Gagagagagagagaga! *babbled Rex in response, completely ignoring MK's request* Heeheeheeheehee!

Despite being told to playfully attack Asriel with his toy weapons, Rex continued attacking MK with them instead; to tease him some more. XD

MK: Come on! Please? Oof! Please, Rex? Oof!

Rex: *keeps attacking MK* Gagagagagaga...

Rocco: Hahahahaha! Good job, Rex! It's fun picking on your brother, isn't it?

Rex: *babbles in agreement*

Rocco: Haha! Yes! And here's someone else that thinks so too! *stated Rocco, pulling out Darius, Rex's favorite stuffed toy*

Darius is a cartoonish-looking stuffed toy; a hybrid creature; part dragon, part cat. He's Rex's favorite stuffed creature and he has a red dragon tail with spikes, red dragon wings, red three-toed feet with white toe claws, red dragon arms, red hands with clawed fingers, dragon spikes and black cat ears on his head, a dragon snout with whiskers, green eyes, and black fur on the non-scaly areas of his body. In addition, he can be controlled like a puppet, a feature that Rocco often takes advantage of when putting Rex down for a nap, putting Rex to bed, calming Rex down whenever he's upset, cheering Rex up whenever he's sad, or just playing with Rex in general. And the voice Rocco does for Darius; very baby-friendly! :D It's a high-pitched squeaky voice (similar to Elmo from Sesame Street); way different than his normal speaking voice; and with it, he puts a smile on Rex's face just about every time. X3

Rocco as Darius: Meeeeeeeee! Hahahaha! Yay, Rex! Haha! "Destroy" your big "smelly" brother! "Destroy" him! Hahahaha!

MK: Big “smelly” brother? Oof! Dad, are you serious?! *asked MK in a response while rolling his eyes at Rocco; in a slightly irritated way* Oof!

Rocco: What? I didn’t say anything! *lied Rocco, acting all innocent*

Rocco as Darius: But I did! Hahahahaha! Holy moly, young man! When was the last time you showered or took a bath?! P.U.! Hahahahaha!

MK: Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…

Then suddenly,

MK: GUH! BWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA!!! *MK laughed hysterically all of sudden, furry fingers overflowing his scaly soles with mega ticklish sensations* AZ, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!! *SQUEAK* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OH GOHOHOHOHOHOD, STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!! *he pleaded, squirming up a storm, which prompted Rex to move away from him, and wiggling and splaying his toes with every passing second as he tried to pull his feet out of a predicament that was practically impossible to break out of in his current state* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!

MK is being a bit grouchy at the moment. So, to get him smiling and laughing, Asriel has decided to tickle his feet; and to ensure that MK won't kick his legs, swing his tail, or escape at all during the tickle torture; Asriel kneeled over MK's calves with his back facing towards MK, trapping the young lizard boy’s legs and tail underneath his own legs.

Rex: Heeheeheeheeheehee! Gaaaabagoogaaaaa! *Rex giggled and babbled excitedly while watching Asriel tickle his brother's feet*

Asriel: Hahaha! No can do, dude! You're being too grouchy! Hahaha!

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I'M NOHOHOHOT GROHOHOHOUCHY!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I'M JUST A LITTLE, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, ANNOYED THAT EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEVERYONE'S PICKING ON MEEHEEHEEHEE, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, WHEN THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE PICKING ON YOOHOOHOOU!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! OR BOHOHOHOHOHOHOTH OF US!!! *SQUEAK* EEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!! OH GOD, MY POOHOOHOOHOOR FEEHEEHEEHEET!!! *SQUEAK* EEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Rocco: Hahahahaha! Oh, don't worry, champ! We'll pick on Azzy soon enough! I promise!

Rocco as Darius: No we won't! Not if I have anything to say about it! Hahahahahaha! Coochie coochie coo, “smelly” boy! Hahahahahaha!

To add to the tickle torture and to tease MK some more, Rocco lifted up MK's shirt and used Darius to tickle MK's belly; using his right hand to control the toy’s mouth to nibble on MK’s stomach and pretend that he was eating it. Then, as a precaution, Rocco wrapped his long tail around both MK’s robotic wrists; in order to prevent MK from trying to tickle him back with his robotic hands.

MK: GAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!! *MK laughed even more hysterically in response, his stomach quivering as new ticklish sensations overflowed his upper body* DAHAHAHAHAD, NOHOHOHO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! DAHAHAHAHAHAD!!! *SQUEAK* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Rex: Heeheeheeheeeheeheehee! *Rex giggled while watching his dad and Asriel tickle MK together*

Rocco: Hey, Rex; come on over here, buddy!

Rocco as Darius: Haha! Yeah, you can help us if you want! There's always plenty of room for my most favorite friend!

Rex: Heeheeheeheeheehee! *giggled Rex once again, hugging his own long tail excitedly while at the same time ignoring his father's request*

Rocco: Or you can just sit there and keep watching us! That's fine! You do whatever makes you happy, buddy! *said Rocco in a very friendly manner* Hahaha!

And he is too! Just watching others being tickled is enough to put a smile on Rex's face. :D

MK: BWAAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

The tickle torture continued for at least 90 seconds but then came to an abrupt stop once Asriel told Rocco that he wanted to try blowing some raspberries on MK's feet.

Rocco: Oooooooh, great idea! I'll hold his legs for you!

Seconds later, Rocco, while keeping his long tail wrapped around MK's wrists, set Darius aside and grabbed both of MK's legs and held them up in a position where Asriel could easily and comfortably blow some raspberries on his feet. In addition, Rocco placed his own two feet on MK's tail; not hard enough to crush it but hard enough to prevent MK from using it to retaliate against Rocco and Asriel.

MK: Eeeeeeeeep! Dad, get your big smelly feet off my tail! *pleaded MK, struggling to get his tail out from underneath his father's large 3-toed feet, which don't actually smell bad at all*

Rocco: Hahahaha! Why? So you can use it to try and escape from this? Hahahahaha! No can do, champ! I know your tricks! *said Rocco in response, smiling cheekily at his older son while wiggling his six toes* Hahahaha! Azzy, do your worst! *he then said to Asriel, giving him the ok to blow some raspberries on MK's feet* Hahahaha!

Asriel: Hahaha! Yes, sir!

MK: Eeeeeep! No, Az! Don't listen to him! Don't…

Asriel: Pbfffffffffffffffffffffffff…!!!

Asriel has just blown a raspberry on MK's right heel.

MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAHAHHAHA!!! *laughed MK hysterically in response; even more now with Asriel blowing raspberries on his feet* NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHHAAHAAHAHAHHA!!! OH MY GOD, HAHHAHAAHAHAAHAHA, YOUR FUZZY FACE MAKES IT WOHOHOHOHOHORSE!!! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!! SOHOHOHOHO MUCH WOHOHOHOHORSE!!! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Once again, Asriel's tickly fur is being put to good use! :D Foot raspberries alone are enough to send MK into ticklish fits of hysterical laughter but with Asriel's fur thrown into the mix; it's a whole new level of ticklishness! MK was laughing, squealing, squeaking, and everything in between and Asriel's fur combined with raspberries tickled his scaly feet so much that tears began streaming out of his eyes; and once Rocco told Asriel to blow raspberries on the balls of his feet right underneath his toes, it was all over for poor MK!

Asriel: Pbffffffffffffffffffff! Pbfffffffffffffffffff!

MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! GAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHA!!!! OH GOHOHOHOHOHHOHOSH!!!! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAAHAHA!!!! OH GOSH, NOHOHOOHOHOHOT THEHEHEEHEHERE!!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOHOHOHHOHOOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHHERE!!!! *MK pleaded through his laughter, squirming and thrashing in Rocco's clutches while desperately trying to pull his feet away from Asriel's mouth* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! *SQUEAK* EEEEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!! *SQUEAK* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

TO BE CONTINUED...

#undertale tickle #undertale tickling #monsterkid #monster kid #feet tickling #baby lizard

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mylo-space · 14 days ago

Text

Welcome to Your Future

Chapter 2: Like it Was Yesterday >> Chapter 3

The king of Flower Fruit Mountain was a social creature by nature, and always had been, preferring the company of friends or his subjects to the quiet. But with his successor out for the day, Wukong was left to his own devices, which was a blessing and a curse in some ways. It was nice not having to come up with a lesson plan, but it was hard not having anything to occupy his brain.

After hundreds of years of isolation, loneliness was an ache he’d grown comfortable with, until MK came along and pressed a hand against the mottled bruise, reminding him how much he missed having someone on the mountain to talk to. It was a nice change of pace when he didn’t have to do everything in his power to not be alone with his own thoughts, resorting to mostly one-sided conversations with his subjects in order to feel a little less alone.

But recent events had Wukong thinking maybe pushing his thoughts aside, lest they spiral into something dark and out of his control, hadn’t exactly been working out for him. There wasn’t a small number of times in the last several months that MK could have used a more honest mentor. If it weren’t for Wukong’s refusal to confront his past, MK might not have had to worry about a new world-ending problem every time he turned a corner.

So, the days he wasn’t training with MK, he’d began the process of sorting through his many treasures. After the fight with Azure, he’d scoured the ruined temples and safehouses for anything worth salvaging and brought them to his treasure room, always finding some new memory to recall. Some of the memories were pleasant, artifacts to admire and scrolls to read, but most were less so, priceless treasures he’d stolen and weapons he regretted wielding. He forced himself to sit on the floor with them, anyway.

It’d really open his eyes to the potential enemies he’d made for his successor. Luckily, some of them had been able to see past the mentor and give MK a chance, the Demon Bull Family especially seemed to almost like the young delivery boy. Which was an impressive feat, considering the Bull King didn’t like much of anyone, and Redson had seemed hellbent on MK’s destruction for quite some time before becoming a tentative ally.

MK had confided in him once that even the Spider Queen had stalled the Lady Bone Demon long enough for him to run. Which was probably more desperation on her part than it was a genuine liking for the kid, but Wukong would thank her for it all the same, if only she hadn’t already fallen to the demon.

And Azure, of course, had never wanted to hurt a fly, much less MK, but that situation was… complicated. And it was still very raw, and Wukong wasn’t quite ready to confront it, yet. He preferred to remember the soldier Azure had been, rather than the tyrant he’d become.

Wukong had put Azure in the Underworld to give the lion time to think over his actions, hoping that some good could have come of it. The monk had doomed the Lady Bone Demon to something similar, a box buried deep beneath the earth, ultimately to no avail. But unlike the demon, Wukong had truly believed that Azure could do better. Be better. And now he’d never have the chance.

Sighing to himself, Wukong tossed a ceramic vase into a steadily growing pile. He wasn’t even sure where he got most of them, but he still studied each one in search of memories. It’d crossed his mind, from time to time, that he could return some of the things he’d stolen, but after a millennia of hoarding them in his cave, it’d probably be an empty gesture. Most of the people he’d stolen from knew better than to let him near their palaces and hideouts, anyway; he probably couldn’t return anything, even if he tried.

Not even the people Wukong had been closest to would let him get that close again. Which brought about another glaringly obvious issue that Wukong had been forcing himself to think about for the first time in centuries.

As far as friends turned enemies turned tentative neutral acquaintances went, the most surprising of them all had been Macaque. Wukong wasn’t exactly thrilled about the shadow’s insistence on being a secondary mentor to MK, but he supposed it wasn’t the worst possible outcome, either. It wasn’t like Macaque was pinning MK to mountains or putting his friends in lanterns, but that didn’t make Wukong any less wary.

Maybe that wasn’t fair, considering how much Macaque had risked to help them save the world, on more than one occasion. And it wasn’t lost on Wukong that Macaque had also risked a lot coming to save him, specifically. The Scroll had brought up a lot of memories that they’d both rather forget, but since Wukong had resolved to stop pushing those memories aside, he forced himself to sit with the uncomfortableness of it all.

It was easy to hold a grudge, and Macaque probably knew that better than anyone, maybe even better than Wukong, but that hadn’t stopped the shadow from coming to his rescue. Part of Wukong felt relieved that Macaque could possibly still care about him enough to come to his aid, but another part of him felt guilty. When it was Macaque in danger, being swallowed whole by the Lady’s frost and forced to do her bidding, it certainly hadn’t been Wukong that came to his rescue.

Of course, Macaque had been an absolute menace during the quest for the Samadhi Fire, but he’d also been desperate, and looking for an escape. He’d never been on the demon’s side, only doing her bidding under penalty of death. If Macaque had been loyal, Wukong’s successor would have been wrapped in shadows and thrown through a portal before he could so much as blink.

MK had been the one to realize it, insisting that Macaque wasn’t as selfish as he led people to believe and, in the end, Macaque had helped them save the world. And maybe Wukong had known it, too, somewhere deep down, that Macaque was ruthless but not heartless. The shadow had told him and Nezha both, he hadn’t cared what the Lady wanted, even as her magic crawled across his face and dug in with icy claws. Macaque only cared that he survived, and he would have done almost anything to make sure he stayed put in the Mortal Realm.

Which was why the Samadhi Fire had become his only option. It hadn’t been his only option, not really, Macaque could have just as easily handed over MK. But of all the things he was willing to do, the people he was willing to hurt, Wukong knew that Macaque would have never handed over the kid. So, he’d released the universe-destroying superweapon instead.

Wukong could have been sympathetic to the shadow’s plight. Instead, he’d grabbed Macaque by the throat and accused him of ruining everything by releasing the Samadhi Fire, but what would Wukong have been able to do differently? The shadow had been right, Wukong never had a real plan to get the Fire out of Mei without releasing the weapon as a whole. She would have been the new wielder of the Samadhi Fire no matter what route they took. It was destiny, just as Tang had said.

Was it fair to blame Macaque for that, when it was Wukong’s failure that put the Flame in the girl?

And if had been Macaque in the Scroll, Wukong honestly didn’t know what he would have done. Of course, he liked to think that he’d have saved Macaque, rivalry be damned, but the awful truth of the matter was that he just wasn’t sure. He’d probably have gone eventually, but would he have volunteered? Would MK have had to grab him by the arm and drag him to the broken piece of scroll? Would Wukong have been able to walk through Macaque’s memories the way Macaque had walked through his?

“Monkey King!”

The sound of his successor’s voice jolted Wukong from his thoughts, nearly dropping the box of vases he’d been sorting through as it echoed around the chamber of treasures. “Kid!” he wheezed, placing a hand over his racing heart. “You gotta- you gotta start knocking before you astral project at me like that.”

MK’s gold silhouette blinked at him. “How am I supposed to-” He shook his head. “Never mind. Look, we have a situation here with Macaque, and-”

Wukong’s head snapped up, “Macaque?” He set down the box of vases so that he could put his hands on his hips. “Alright, what’d he do now?”

“Nothing!” MK said quickly. “It’s kinda hard to explain, because… well, I don’t really know what happened, but I did something and I think it really messed him up.”

“Bah!” Wukong waved a hand flippantly. “I’m sure he’s fine. Macaque’s tougher than he looks,” he said, which was the closest thing to a compliment that he was willing to give. “Isn’t he supposed to be training you today?” Chuckling, he turned to a pile of discarded weapons, leftover from a village raid. “Or whatever it is he does when you go over there. Barely counts as training, if you ask me.”

“Monkey King, I’m serious!” MK insisted. “I interrupted some magic kind of ritual thing, and now he’s lost his memories.”

Wukong snorted. “He’s not even trying to be clever anymore,” he muttered, picking a spear out of the pile and inspecting it. “He could at least come up with something original, that happened to me while we were looking for the rings of Samadhi. Ask your boss and the guy in the glasses, they know what I’m talking about.” The weapons definitely weren’t returnable, he decided, as the village he’d stolen them from hadn’t been around for at least a few hundred years, and most of them weren’t even in great shape, anyway. “It’s probably just a trick or scheme or something. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

MK heaved a frustrated sigh. “I already talked to Pigsy and Mr. Tang, and they don’t know what’s going on, either,” he said. “His memories are gone, and it’s not a trick. Whatever’s happening, he needs help, and I don’t know how to fix any of it!”

Admittedly, MK sounded pretty distressed. Even if this was a trick of some kind, he supposed his nonchalance about the situation wasn’t very fair to the kid. “Okay,” he said reluctantly, turning to face his successor, “you’re really sure that this isn’t a scheme?”

“Yes.”

“Because Macaque is a really tricky guy,” Wukong reminded him. “Even if he’s not trying to steal your powers, he could still be planning something. It could even be a prank. He’s weird like that.”

“Monkey King,” MK said firmly, “the only thing he’s talked about since I found him is you. He’s wondering where you are and I don’t know how to explain that you’re not-” He hesitated for a moment. “But he… he’s asking for you. Just you.”

At that, Wukong froze. Under any other circumstances, Macaque would rather break an arm than ask for Wukong directly. Even when he was stealing MK’s powers, he had used the logo on the back of the kid’s jacket as a taunt instead of seeking out the king himself. If the kid was claiming there was something wrong with Macaque’s memory, and Macaque was asking for him, then…

Wukong took a breath. “Okay,” he said, “I’m on my way, just… keep an eye on him, alright?”

“Dude, he took a single step into the city and freaked out,” MK told him. “I don’t think he’s gonna be running off anytime soon.” His silhouette started flickering. “I’m gonna go help Mr. Tang and Sandy look for more clues about how to help. You promise you’re gonna be nice when you get here?”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise,” Wukong waved him off. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be there.” MK’s relieved smile was the last thing he saw before the projection faded out. WIth the kid gone, Wukong took a moment to sigh and run his fingers through his hair.

He still felt as though Macaque was up to something. Even if that fear was no longer warranted after their reluctant agreement to be civil, he couldn’t help but feel wary of the crafty warrior. Though, he supposed that Macaque had just as much reason to be wary of him, and yet the shadow wasn’t asking for anyone else.

If it were Macaque in the Scroll, would he-

The king pressed his hands against his eyes. Here laid the answer to his question, Macaque was in trouble and Wukong was the one being called. It did little to soothe his conscience that his ‘yes’ was so begrudging and laden with doubt, but he was going all the same, and that counted for something. It had to.

And he didn’t have any time to keep mulling it over. Wukong strode out of his room of treasures and towards his sealed cave entrance. He could be suspicious of Macaque later, when he’d sorted out whatever was happening. Until then, he was helping, because it was the right thing to do, rivalry or no, and he was better than petty disputes.

“How did I get stuck with Macaque’s mess,” he complained. A cloud swooped low to the ground long enough for Wukong to step onto the wisps, and then rose into the air. “We finally get some peace around here, and he’s gotta go and lose his memories.” He sat atop the cloud with his arms crossed petulantly, stubbornly, as though there were anyone to see his tantrum.

He wasn’t even sure how to deal with a memory-impaired Macaque. Depending on how bad the amnesia was, Wukong could be dealing with an almost entirely different person. Five hundred years lost, and Macaque might remember just enough not to trust Wukong, a thousand years lost, and Macaque might still believe that Wukong would keep his promise.

There was no way of telling which one would be worse. “Pain in my ass,” he muttered. He’d promised MK he’d be civil when he got to the noodle shop, but he doubted the wind minded his ramblings.

The fact that Macaque was asking for Wukong gave him some idea of where they stood. At the very least, it was before their fight beneath the Five Elements Mountain, and maybe even before the Brotherhood. It would certainly make Macaque easier to deal with. And maybe harder, in some ways, to remember how Macaque was before… everything.

Wukong shook his head as the city came into view. There wasn’t time to think, only do. He already had a ‘Present Macaque’ situation to deal with, be that maintaining civility or something like reconciliation, so he hoped whatever ‘Past Macaque’ he had to deal with was an easier one.

His cloud stopped just outside the shop, Wukong clambering off and dissipating the condensed air as he straightened his shirt. He took a breath and steadied his hands as he approached the door; it almost felt like preparing for battle the way his nerves skittered about his chest.

“Alright,” he murmured to himself as he pushed aside the wooden curtain. “Alright!” he said again, with more confidence. “What’s the situation?”

For a moment, he was met with an eerie silence, MK’s friends looking at him with expressions he couldn’t quite read. Something akin to caution, perhaps, like they were just waiting to see Wukong’s reaction before they gave their own. Apart from Pigsy, who looked characteristically indifferent as he stirred a pot of noodles, everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath, their gazes flicking from Wukong to-

A familiar face blinked at him, eyes untouched by centuries of anger. A crooked smile Wukong hadn’t seen for a thousand years blinding him in a way he never thought he’d see again.

Macaque stood so fast that it nearly knocked over his chair. “Wukong!” he exclaimed, stumbling over himself in his rush to meet the king at the door. “You would not believe the day I’m having!” Wukong recoiled as Macaque approached him, though the shadow didn’t appear to notice. “What is-” he laughed a little, circling Wukong curiously, “What are you wearing?”

More than a little taken aback, Wukong spluttered, “I just- what-” he looked down at his clothes, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“See, that’s what I’m saying!” MK exclaimed.

“Nothing!” Macaque assured him. “Nothing’s wrong, it’s just… not your usual style.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “Finally looking like a king, huh? Got a fashion sense some time in the last…” his brow furrowed, “however long it’s been.” He blinked rapidly and shook his head. “Anyway, it’s a good look for you.” He gave Wukong a playful nudge. “I didn’t want to tell you, but that animal pelt skirt thing you had going on clashed with your fur so badly.”

A startled laugh escaped Wukong as he gave Macaque a nudge of his own. “Like you’re one to talk about fashion sense.”

Macaque’s head tipped back with a groan. “God, I know. You should have seen what I woke up wearing.” He chuckled. “Your fashion sense got better, but mine somehow got worse.” He plucked at his old bandana absently. “Hanfu folded wrong, some weird scarf thing,” his gaze turned thoughtful, “although I do kind of regret ditching the scarf. Been weirdly cold ever since I left the dojo.”

Distantly, Wukong was aware that he should have a response to that, some lighthearted taunt or playful banter, but his every thought kept hitching on Macaque’s words. A hanfu folded wrong, a red scarf in place of a worn bandana, and he was cold despite the city’s perfect weather.

His gaze drifted to Macaque’s right eye. He wondered how long it’d be before Macaque noticed the glamor there, fearful of what the shadow’s reaction might be to the scar that lay beneath it.

“So!” a booming voice interjected. “Any ideas on what might be wrong with Mr. Macquack?”

“I-” Wukong cleared his throat. “I actually have no idea.” He turned to MK. “You got anything for me, bud? What was Macaque doing when you found him?”

MK rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly, I don’t really know what he was doing. It kinda looked like he was meditating,” he gestured to his head, “except there was a lot of magic going on up here.”

Wukong frowned at that. “Meditating…” There were many practices that required meditation, but Macaque wasn’t typically the type. There was only one thing that Wukong could think of that Macaque might have been doing, but as far as he knew, it wasn’t a skill he’d used in centuries. “The magic,” he asked, “you said it was up by his head, right? Like, around his ears?”

“Yeah,” MK perked up at that. “Why? Do you know what it was?”

“He was-” His gaze found Macaque’s. “You were Listening? I thought you didn’t do that anymore.” At least, not as far as Wukong knew. Macaque hadn’t ever particularly liked the skill, and without Wukong pestering him with questions about the past and future, he’d figured that the shadow had abandoned the practice completely.

Macaque hummed. “I mean, I don’t do it very often, and I definitely don’t do it without you around.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t know why I’d be doing it alone in some dingy dojo, but I guess a lot has changed over the years.”

Pigsy sighed. “This sounds like more ‘Mystic Monkey’ business.” He set aside the ladle he was using to stir his pot and leaned on the counter. “Alright, spill it. What’s this listening business you’re talking about?”

“I’ve got a few theories,” Tang mumbled from where he sat. His voice was oddly flat, lacking its usual enthusiasm and, if Wukong didn’t know any better, he’d say the scholar almost sounded bitter.

Mei drummed her fingers against the counter thoughtfully. “Does this have anything to do with the ‘Six-Eared’ part of his name?”

Wukong blinked in surprise. He hadn’t been sure if Macaque ever shared his full name with MK and his friends, considering how closely he kept his ears guarded. “Yeah, actually, it does.” He turned to Macaque, “Did you want to explain, or-”

“Sure,” Macaque replied. “Why not?” He clapped his hands together and addressed MK and his friends. “So! I’m the Six-Eared Macaque, I can hear everything in a thousand mile radius and also the past and future.” He paused for a moment, “And… that’s about it, yeah. Not a lot to explain, I guess. Any questions?”

MK choked out a shocked noise. “Uh- lots? I have so many questions about that, actually.”

Mei leaned forward, “You can hear the future?”

“Well, not all the time,” Macaque amended. “Hearing the past or future requires a really intense kind of concentration. Sorta like meditating, I guess, except I’m searching outward instead of within.” He made a so-so gesture with his hand. “More like a trance, maybe. It’s hard to describe.”

Marveling at the explanation, Mei exclaimed, “That might be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s got its drawbacks,” Macaque admitted. “Listening can be tricky, and I can’t hear the present once I start Listening to the past or future.” He jutted a thumb to Wukong. “Which is why this guy usually hangs around, to make sure no one sneaks up on me. Until I drift back to the present, I’m pretty much a sitting duck.”

“Huh,” MK said thoughtfully, “guess that explains why you wouldn’t answer the door when I knocked.”

Pigsy began pulling bowls out of a cabinet. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, setting the bowls on the counter and picking up his ladle. “You can hear the future, and this guy,” he stabbed the ladle in Wukong’s direction, “still managed to make the worst decision at every turn.”

“Hey!” Wukong protested.

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.” Macaque explained. “Listening to the past is easy because it's a fixed path; it's no different than floating down a stream. Listening to the future is a constant fight against the current. Every decision we make in the present affects how the future gets shaped, so it’s hardly ever set in stone. There could be new paths and paths that completely disappear every time I try to Listen.”

MK scratched his head. “I mean, that’s super cool and all, but how could that make you lose your memories?” He turned to Wukong. “Are you sure something like this has never happened before? Do you remember anything that Macaque might have forgotten?”

Wukong tried to think if he and Macaque had any similar issues in the past, but came up blank. Listening was usually a quiet affair for both of them, Macaque in his trance and Wukong on watch. Eventually, Macaque always woke up, no intervention required. “Honestly, I never really understood how the Listening thing worked, so I never messed with him when he did it. He’d always wake up on his own after a while.”

Tang adjusted his glasses, brow furrowed in thought. “I suppose waking Macaque up early could explain the memory loss. Metaphorically speaking, Macaque was still downstream when MK pulled him out of the trance.” He took two bowls of noodles from Pigsy and passed one to Mei. “His subconscious is still stuck in… whenever he was Listening to.”

Pigsy ladled out a bowl of noodles and passed it to MK. “Sounds like an easy fix then, yeah? He’s just gotta do his magic Listening, or whatever it is, and float his way back up the time stream.” He set a bowl of noodles on the counter, “Sandy, get your nose out of them plant books and come grab a bowl.”

Mei made an unsure noise as she scooped a mouthful of noodles with her chopsticks. “I thought he couldn’t hear the present when he did the trance thing. Would trying to Listen his way back even do anything?”

“Well,” Sandy chimed in, taking the offered bowl of noodles from the counter, “if his subconscious is stuck in the past, maybe he could listen to the future to get to the present.”

Macaque gave a good-natured chuckle at the suggestion, “I’m not sure if that’s how it works, but I like the enthusiasm, big guy.”

“Eh,” Pigsy muttered, “sounds like a bunch of magic mumbo jumbo to me. I still say we bonk him on the head with a rock and be done with the whole thing.”

Wukong scowled. “Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and vote ‘absolutely not’ on that one.” Any other day, he wouldn’t have protested it, he might have even encouraged it, but with Macaque like this, it didn’t feel very fair.

“Figures,” Pigsy said, ladling out two more bowls and sliding them across the counter, “the one time you two don’t feel like throwin’ rocks at each other.”

Macaque took a bowl of noodles, an amused smile playing across his face. “How often are you guys throwing rocks at each other? I feel like this shouldn’t be a regular occurrence.”

“It isn’t,” Wukong assured him, swiping the other bowl for himself. “I mean, I drop the occasional rockslide on MK, but that’s about it. Training, you know?”

The shadow made a noise around a mouthful of noodles, swallowing quickly and thumping Wukong on the shoulder. “You have a student!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe I almost forgot about that. When did you decide to start teaching?” He gestured to MK. “I mean, you picked a great kid, but you never really struck me as the type to take up a student.”

Mei giggled, “Doesn’t really strike us as the type, either.”

Pigsy grunted in agreement, “World’s worst mentor, if you ask me.”

“Yeah,” Tang agreed, “I’m just now finding out about the rockslide thing, and I’m not, uh… not super thrilled about that.” His eyes narrowed again. “I feel like we need another conversation about what you consider fun.”

The king dismissed the concern with a flippant wave. “Bah,” he replied, “a little rockslide never hurt nobody,” and he scooped a mouthful of noodles to avoid continuing the conversation.

“So,” Macaque turned to MK, “how’d you manage to get ol’ Monkey King here to take you on as a student? He hardly ever leaves the mountain anymore, unless he’s raiding a nearby village for some weapons.” He elbowed Wukong good-naturedly. “And who ended up teaching all the monkeys how to use those spears, huh?”

Wukong swatted Macaque away while MK finished off his bowl of noodles. “Well,” his successor started, “it’s kind of a funny story, actually. I was just delivering noodles and I-” His explanation halted for a thoughtful moment. “Do you remember the Demon Bull King?” he asked.

“Sort of,” Macaque replied. “I really only know him by reputation, I’ve never met the guy personally.” Which meant, of course, that Macaque had lost his memories of the Brotherhood, so they were looking at a good millennia of lost time.

MK nodded. “Gotcha, okay, never mind, then. Point is, I found the staff, I picked it up, and it turns out I have all of Monkey King’s powers.” He pulled the staff out of his ear as proof. “It took a while for us to start doing real training sessions, but he’s been a really good teacher, so far. Most of the time. Give or take a few less-than-stellar performances.”

Mei snorted. “That’s a really nice way of putting it.” And while MK spluttered a bit at the comment, Wukong was well aware that Mei had more reason than most people to be distrustful of him and his teaching methods. His advice for MK had been lackluster for the situation they were in, and the whole debacle had taught him the importance of communicating with the people that cared about him. It was something he’d been working on.

His gaze trailed to Macaque as Pigsy made some snide comment of his own about Wukong’s teaching’s skills. While MK and his friends had a good chuckle at his expense, reminiscing all the times he’d gotten them into trouble, Wukong tried not to think too hard about how Mei probably shouldn’t have been the turning point for his communication.

“So,” Tang said loudly, jolting Wukong from his thoughts, “what I’m hearing is… none of us have any leads on how to fix Macaque.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” MK sighed. “On the bright side, at least we know how I messed him up.”

Macaque’s brow furrowed at that. “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself there, kiddo. It’s not like you knew what was gonna happen.” He offered a smile, “If anything, it sounds like it’s my fault for not telling you more about my powers.”

Wukong hummed in agreement, “And for trying to Listen with no one around.” He was well aware that he no longer had the right to accompany Macaque for such things, but it was nice to banter with him. Now that he could see the situation clearly wasn’t a trap of some kind, Wukong could admit that talking to Macaque was actually rather pleasant.

Making a sound somewhere between an offended scoff and laugh, Macaque nudged Wukong’s shoulder. “Aw, c’mon, cut me some slack! I woke up in the world’s most sinister looking dojo with no memory, you have to be nice to me.”

“You gotta have some memory left in there,” Wukong pointed out, “since you clearly remember how to get on my nerves.” That earned him a shove, and he lifted his bowl up and away to keep it steady. “Quit that!” he laughed. “I’m gonna spill my noodles!”

“Didn’t you just get back from training with some wise master?” Macaque poked at Wukong’s side teasingly. “Ten whole years of training and a shiny new staff, and you can’t balance a bowl of noodles?”

Wukong batted Macaque’s hand away. “Alright, alright, alright!” he protested. “Cut it out, dude, this is a serious situation.” He put a hand on Macaque’s head and playfully pushed the shadow back. “You have amnesia, and we’re being very serious about it.”

“Uh-huh,” Tang deadpanned, “you look like you’re taking all of this very seriously.” He set aside his finished bowl of noodles. “If we’re out of leads, maybe we need to try Plan B. Monkey King might have something in his treasure room that could help Macaque.”

And despite the fact that Macaque wasn’t attempting anything, there was an uneasiness around the idea of bringing the shadow back to Water Curtain Cave. The guy had been lurking around Flower Fruit Mountain since their fight against the Lady, but the cave was a different story entirely. Macaque hadn’t been anywhere near it for centuries.

MK brightened, “Oh, yeah!” He turned to Wukong. “You’ve got a ton of magic artifacts and stuff, right? Do you think any of it might help Macaque with his memories?”

“Uh…” Wukong cleared his throat. “I mean, I might have something.” He moved to set his empty bowl on the counter. “Or I could ask around a little,” he suggested. “Got lots of friends in high places-”

Macaque snorted. “Since when?”

“And,” Wukong continued, “maybe one of them will know something.” Truthfully, his options were limited. It wasn’t untrue that he had a few friends in high places–though friends might be a strong word–but those acquaintances probably wouldn’t know a lot about Macaque’s powers. If Wukong was being honest, he didn’t even know a lot about Macaque’s powers.

Tang hummed. “I somehow doubt that,” he said, as though he could read Wukong’s thoughts. “There’s not a lot of information on the celestial primates in general.” His gaze slid to Wukong, something knowing and quietly accusing in his eyes. “I think most of the information anyone could find on the Six-Eared Macaque would be in the ‘Journey to the West’.”

Wukong wasn’t scared of much, being who he was, what he was, but there was a legitimate rush of adrenaline that shot through his veins at Tang’s statement. The book had always been the bane of his existence, ever since it’d been written. The inaccuracies were irritating for obvious reasons, and the truths in it were also irritating, though that was mostly Wukong cringing at his past actions.

Debatably, his least favorite part of the book was the one with Macaque in it. By name, he was only in two chapters, the story of the False King, but he was technically in the chapters featuring the Brotherhood as well, under the name ‘Macaque Spirit King’. Wukong wasn’t even sure why it got written that way, most likely a misunderstanding of some kind, but he never bothered to try and correct it. The Six-Eared Macaque was half-blind and full of rage by the time the Journey was over and the book was written, and Wukong assumed that he probably wouldn’t want to be associated with the king or the Brotherhood, anyway.

Besides, he didn’t want to give Macaque any more reasons to come looking for a fight. Wukong figured that detailing a battle that scarred and blinded the shadow, for all the world to read, probably wouldn’t do him any favors in keeping the peace.

Macaque’s temper aside, Wukong had been more than happy to put the situation out of mind himself, and fact-checking the book hadn’t exactly been a concern of his. The mortals mostly told the story of the Journey through adaptation, and a lot of it was simply regarded as legend. What good was making sure the book was accurate, if it was all going to be parodied, regardless?

Tang’s gaze flicked to MK and Macaque before finding Wukong again, an eyebrow raised knowingly. If his successor or the warrior decided to read the book in hopes of finding more information, Wukong would have a whole new problem to deal with. And it was a problem he’d planned on dealing with, eventually. MK had gotten more curious about his and Macaque’s relationship since the Scroll of Memory, so it wasn’t like he would have had a choice; sooner or later, he would have had to tell MK everything.

But with Macaque’s memory gone and MK already blaming himself, Wukong didn’t think either of them were in any state to read what was written in the book. “The Journey just has a rundown of all our powers,” he said evenly. “A very vague explanation, at that. I doubt it’d help with our situation.” He rested an elbow on Macaque’s shoulder. “I’ll take Macaque home and see if I have any scrolls on magic-induced amnesia lying around.”

Macaque sighed, “Do we have to go looking today?” he asked. “I feel like I haven’t slept in months.”

And if Wukong knew Macaque, past or present, then he knew that could very well be true. Macaque was vigilant, anxious, sensitive to sound, and he’d taken his position of guarding the mountain very seriously. There were times when it’d be days before Macaque could finally rest, sometimes weeks, and the shadow’s excuse was that he couldn’t die from not sleeping.

“Yeah, you’ve had a big day,” Wukong said, whisking the bowl out of Macaque’s hand and setting it down on the counter next to his, “and I’ve had enough brainstorming.”

Mei rolled her eyes, “You barely even did anything.”

“We’ll head back up to the mountain,” Wukong continued, pointedly ignoring Mei’s comment, “and go rooting through my treasure room some other day.” He’d have said tomorrow, except it looked as though Macaque might need more than a night’s rest.

And, maybe a bit selfishly, he enjoyed being around a Macaque that didn’t hate him, even if that Macaque was ripped out of the past. Which might not have been very fair to the real Macaque, the one in the present who would rather die than ask for his help, but hopefully that Macaque wouldn’t kill him when he found out later.

“Are we still on for training tomorrow?” MK asked.

Wukong grinned. “Of course, bud! As long as this guy,” he nodded to Macaque, “manages to wake up at a decent time.”

Macaque pushed Wukong’s arm off his shoulder. “Yeah, right,” he snickered, “as if you’re not the king of sleeping in.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wukong deflected. “Anyway!” He gave a mock salute to Pigsy. “Thanks for lunch, pig-man. Incredible, as always.” Grabbing Macaque by the wrist before the pig could correct him about the name, Wukong led the shadow out of the noodle shop. “See you guys later! MK? Bright and early for training tomorrow.”

The city was an assault on his ears as he dragged Macaque outside, and he could only imagine how bad it must have been for his six-eared companion. He briefly considered offering Macaque a seal to block the noise, but they wouldn’t be staying long. He’d remember it next time they went into the city, which would probably be when they found any new information on Macaque’s amnesia.

If they found any new information on Macaque’s amnesia.

He wasted no time summoning a cloud, turning to Macaque and gesturing for the shadow to climb aboard. “After you, my good man.”

“Oh, how kind,” Macaque replied, stepping onto the cloud with some flourish and taking a seat. “You know, I still can’t wrap my head around his whole cloud-jumping thing,” he told Wukong as they got settled. “Do I ever end up learning how to do this?”

“Nah,” Wukong told him, steering the cloud into the sky and above the city noise. “I mean, not as far as I know.” The wind began whipping their hair as they headed towards the mountain. “To be fair, it’s not like you need it, with your portals and all. The cloud is fast, but I’m pretty sure teleportation is faster.”

Macaque laughed. “I mean, sure, if I could make a portal stable enough to get farther than half a mile.” He suddenly brightened. “Wait, did I get better at teleporting?”

Wukong turned to Macaque with a smile. “I’m pleased to inform you that you’ve pretty much got portals mastered, nowadays. I don’t think I’ve seen you enter a room normally in centuries.”

“Really?” Macaque asked, sounding pleasantly surprised at himself. “Well, at least I’m getting something right in the future. The present. Whatever.”

“You’re definitely an expert on dramatic entrances,” Wukong said. And dramatic exits, part of him wanted to add, but that made him think of a mountain and a fight and an uneaten peach, crushed and cast aside. Dramatic exits made him think of Macaque opening a portal and falling through the stone floor, so he left it unsaid.

The shadow chuckled, “I bet portaling around in the shadows is doing wonders for my shady reputation.”

“Eh,” Wukong replied evasively, “it might be contributing, but it’s far from the shadiest thing you do.” That earned him a playful punch to the arm, and Wukong had to turn his gaze back to the horizon so that Macaque couldn’t see the agonizing fondness taking over his expression.

This was harder than he thought it’d be, Wukong was quickly realizing. He had known it’d be hard, seeing Macaque before the rage and hatred and the fighting, but he hadn’t expected everything to slip back into place so easily, like a day had passed rather than a millennia. It was too easy, falling into step with the past, which made remembering their present all the more difficult.

A weight leaned against his shoulder. “I meant to say this earlier, but I’m glad you made some friends over the years,” Macaque said quietly. “Your successor seems like a great kid.” He could feel a quiet laugh vibrate through his arm. “And I’m sure you’re getting tired of me, anyway, huh? Can’t be easy having just little ol’ me for company all these years.”

Something sharp lodged in Wukong’s throat at that, because it was familiar. Macaque had said something similar when Wukong had first proposed creating the Brotherhood. Macaque hadn’t agreed with the goal, or the war, but at least Wukong was making friends. At least he was enjoying the parties. At least he was having fun with company other than his shadow.

“I could never be tired of you,” Wukong told Macaque. And he liked to believe that it was true or, at the very least, that it could have been true, if only there weren’t so many mistakes between them. “Never,” he insisted.

Macaque hummed. “Never, huh?” he teased, eyes sliding closed. “Never is a long time, Wukong.”

And so was the forever Macaque had been promised. Wukong closed his eyes against the afternoon sun, and tried not to think about how hard it was going to be having Macaque hate him again after this. “Yeah,” he said, and he hoped Macaque was too tired to notice his voice wavering, “sure is, bud.”

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