#Paya is also the one who wrote The Sun The Moon and The Black Powder Fuse

[chipper-smol]

He grits his teeth through the agony, fighting his body to regain any semblance of control over it, but the panic disorients him. It's no fight. Just pure adrenal terror as the single well of power that was once his alone to draw from now drags him down to drown him. His throat can only gurgle. He reaches out again, grasping at nothing. But this time around, Wukong grabs his hand.

psst go read @payasita's slowburn, hurt/comfort, sick fic, Stone Fruit Preserves, if you haven't already :3c