#felt a bit tired so just a to do list today

[mylo-space]

How Little I Show

Summary: A look into the relationship between Wukong and Macaque through three different world-ending disasters; a series of pushing buttons and crossing lines and struggling to figure out where they stand with each other after a millennia of distance--both hindered by desperately trying to convince the other that they're indifferent to the situation entirely. (title from 'Paint' by The Paper Kites)

Posted on Ao3: 2025-02-26 Word Count: 20,679

When MK started getting more aggressive with his training, and sharper with his responses upon being asked about it, Wukong had a million different ideas of things to blame. He mulled it over every waking second they weren’t training; perhaps MK was still stressed over the Demon Bull King, or his noodle deliveries, or maybe his favorite arcade game had broken again.

But Wukong couldn’t argue with himself about the symbol on the back of MK’s jacket, magic coloring over the logo in violet shades to sneer at him. An old enemy–an ever older friend, the Six-Eared Macaque.

There weren’t a lot of things that could get Wukong out of Water Curtain Cave, and if Macaque had kept his meddling to a minimum, he might not have even bothered at all. He was a far cry from the impulsive creature he’d been so many centuries ago, the thrill of settling scores an old, tired thing sitting among the cobwebs of Wukong’s mind; he wasn’t keen on giving the fight Macaque clearly wanted, so he resolved to simply keep a closer eye on MK, instead.

Then he felt the seal he’d put on MK’s powers pulsing, the kid struggling to summon magic that wouldn’t come to him. He was quietly thankful, when he finally crash landed onto the scene, that Macaque seemed mostly occupied with scaring MK than doing any real damage–though he’d find out later that he had knocked the breath out of MK with a punch to the stomach before pinning him to the mountain side.

Still, it was the principle of the thing. Macaque may have shouted, sorry, kid, over the roar of magic, nothing personal! and maybe he even meant it. Macaque had a taste for the spotlight, but if he’d really wanted to hurt MK, he wouldn’t have wasted his time with the theatrics. The whole thing left Wukong with a very long list of questions that all began with ‘why’.

Wukong would be the first to admit that he didn’t know Macaque–not anymore, not like he used to–but he was certain the shadow wouldn’t start a fight without a damn good reason, and wouldn't attack someone in Wukong’s care unless it was a calculated risk. Macaque wasn’t stupid enough to make that kind of mistake twice.

When the dust settled from MK’s rather impressive show of strength, Wukong could feel a dull ache in his stone muscles. The fight was short, but it was the most effort he’d put into anything in ages; he might have even appreciated the workout under different circumstances. MK stayed for a little bit, soaking up both the lectures and reassurances that Wukong offered him, and finally scampered off the mountain upon realizing Mei and Pigsy had been blowing up his phone.

And long after MK had left, Wukong remained on the ledge overlooking their battleground. There was a presence behind him somewhere, just to the right, and even if Wukong didn’t know Macaque like he used to, he knew enough to understand, “You wanted my attention?” He glanced over his shoulder to watch Macaque emerge from the shadows. “There are better ways of getting a conversation out of me.”

“What,” Macaque asked, “like I was gonna just waltz on up to Water Curtain Cave?” He flicked a bit of debris off his scarf. “If I’m gonna get hit, it’s going to be on my terms.” And Wukong couldn’t refute that he might have punched Macaque outright for approaching the inner sanctuary of Flower Fruit Mountain, so he kept his teeth clenched about it. “Everyone knows the fastest way to get your attention is a fight.”

“Were the theatrics necessary?” Wukong put a hand on his knee and stood. “MK didn’t deserve what you did to him today.” He turned to Macaque and was met with a raised brow. “You could have tripped him walking down the sidewalk and I would have hunted you down. Why go to all this trouble?”

Macaque hummed, “You know I always aim to impress, Wukong,” he replied easily. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t at least a little fun for you.” His lip curled at the corners, the beginnings of a smile–or a snarl, perhaps, some bared-teeth challenge that had Wukong lashing chains around his primal urge to fight. “When’s the last time you had a real fight, huh?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Wukong reminded, determined not to let Macaque steer him off-track. “Why did you bring MK into this little tantrum of yours.” Macaque’s brow twitched to furrow–maybe annoyed that Wukong wasn’t rising to his bait, but he masked it well enough by glancing away, rolling his eyes like Wukong was the one being irritating. “If you don’t want to get thrown through the nearest mountain, bud, I suggest you start explaining yourself.”

Tsking, Macaque replied, “Believe it or not, Monkey King, I’m not the worst thing out there.” Wukong straightened, putting aside his frustration for a moment to hear Macaque out, “You made a lot of enemies over the centuries, and most of them aren’t going to be kind enough to train your successor for your attention.”

“You didn’t train him,” Wukong said sharply. “MK said you’ve been sparring with him off and on for almost two weeks now. I’d have smelled you on him if you were actually around.” But the logo on MK’s jacket had been his only clue, which meant, “You trained him with a clone.”

Macaque snorted, “And? You’re telling me you’ve never been tempted to ditch a training session, leave him with a clone for a day?”

Pointedly not answering Macaque’s question, Wukong replied, “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”

“I,” Macaque drawled, “was multitasking. Had other things to do.” A hand came to scratch at his cheek idly. “Also, I’ve been trying to keep a low profile. Hard to do if I start throwing a ton of magic around, so I had a clone do some physical combat with him.” He shrugged. “Sue me.”

And there was a terrible moment of vulnerability that bled into Wukong’s anger, slipping through the wall he’d built around his friendship with Macaque to ask, “Is someone tracking you?” And because that might have sounded just a bit too much like concern, he added, “You pinned MK to a mountain and stole his powers so that you couldn’t be traced by someone?”

Tipping his head back, Macaque heaved a guttural sigh, “You know, if I wanted to actually hurt that kid, I would have,” he complained. “Are you gonna be pissy about this forever?”

“Maybe not forever,” Wukong said, “but for the foreseeable future? Yes.” Macaque grumbled, but seemed to understand where he stood on Wukong’s sliding scale of patience and didn’t press. “And I’m gonna be even pissier about this if you don’t start giving me some straight answers.”

Macaque studied Wukong for a moment like one might gauge the needle of a pressure valve, “The same people tracking me,” he explained slowly, like he was deciding as he went how much was too much to reveal, “are also after the kid’s power,” he relented finally, “and the staff, too. If he couldn’t handle what I did to him today, there’s no way he would have survived what’s coming.”

“So,” Wukong scowled, “what, this was all some kind of test?”

“More like a really elaborate lesson plan,” Macaque replied easily. “Couldn’t trust you to prepare him for what’s coming.” Wukong’s lips parted to demand further explanation–he could prepare MK just fine if he knew what was coming, but Macaque interjected, “You’re not getting a name out of me, if that’s what you’re after. I’m trying to keep a low profile, remember? Can’t have you bumbling about in my personal affairs.”

“Your personal affairs,” Wukong hissed, “are, apparently, out to get my successor. You care enough to warn me about it, but expect me to be content without a name?” Macaque raised an amused brow at the steadily rising tension in Wukong’s voice. “Did you lead something to MK?” he demanded. “Did you-”

“I didn’t lead anything, anywhere,” Macaque cut in. “She’d have come, anyway,” the detail didn’t escape Wukong–she; it wasn’t much information, but he’d take it. “I’d say you have until the New Year before you need your guard up,” Macaque continued, “and if you haven’t figured it out by then, I’ll let you give me the third degree.” His tone was something close to playful, even as he began threatening, “Maybe I’ll even kidnap your successor again. Have another little scrap about it,” he suggested teasingly, “huh? For old times’ sake?”

“I don’t think it’s in your best interest to start another scrap with me,” Wukong warned, tail lashing, “about anything. Can’t promise I’ll be so nice about a stunt like this a second time.”

Macaque hummed, “I think we have different definitions of nice, Your Majesty.” Whatever semblance of disappointment Wukong thought he’d heard in Macaque’s voice evaporated with a sickly sweet, “And here I was, warning you about an impending threat.”

“And kidnapping my successor,” Wukong recalled. “I don’t care who’s after his power, you don’t get to act like this,” he lifted his hands and bit out, “lesson,” in quotations, “was a kindness. Because we both know it wasn’t.”

“Would you have prefered I not warned you at all?”

“I would prefer that you stayed as far away from MK as possible,” Wukong snapped, and Macaque made some disinterested noise that had his hackles rising, “I’m serious,” he warned, “you haven’t done me a favor by scaring the shit out of MK and giving me half a warning,” Macaque’s gaze flicked away under Wukong’s pyrite glare, “If you’re not actually gonna make yourself useful, then make yourself scarce.”

Macaque shook his head, bitter amusement spilling out of him, “That’s all it was ever about, eh, Wukong?” the shadow chuckled. “I was never useful enough to you.” Wukong’s fists clenched at his sides, a tense silence stretching between them. “I’ll leave the kid be,” Macaque acquiesced, and his word alone wasn’t really all that reassuring, but Wukong could feel the tension in his shoulders ease minutely, “but if your poor mentoring leaves the kid high and dry, don’t come crying to me.”

“Yeah,” Wukong huffed, “maybe when Hell freezes over.”

There was something amused on the corner of Macaque’s lips, “Yeah,” he said lightly, voice hovering over a barely-concealed laugh, “maybe.” The shadows behind Macaque began condensing before Wukong could ask him what was so funny. “Until then,” Macaque gave a little bow, a theatrical farewell–he always did know how to make an exit, “have fun making the kid do more chores. Sure it’s gonna be a huge help.”

A retort died on Wukong’s tongue, Macaque vanishing into a portal before he could bite it out. It was another five minutes or so before he managed to uncurl his fists and stalk back to Water Curtain Cave, kicking every pebble in his path and desperately trying to banish every single fleeting thought about Macaque from his head.

In the following weeks, MK cracked a joke and didn’t even need to say Macaque’s name to get a withering glance from Wukong and a deadpan, too soon, bud, and it was too soon. If he’d never seen Macaque again it’d have been too soon, but Macaque had a habit of turning up like a bad penny, and it was a coin’s toss how tolerable the shadow would be. He resolved to enjoy the peace and quiet while he could.

With Macaque’s warning fresh in his mind, Wukong had–with very minimal guilt-tripping on his part–managed to keep MK on the mountain for the New Year. He’d spent the better part of the day scanning the treeline and the air and behind every boulder like something might jump out at them, and he was looking forward to spending some downtime with his successor before he went after Macaque for his owed ‘third-degree’ interrogation.

He could have picked up a mountain and thrown it when the fireworks show ground to a halt, anger finding that familiar place in his chest and settling, but there wasn’t time. MK was equal parts surprised and exasperated by Wukong’s desire to help him save the city, seemingly taking, no one ruins my New Year, at face value. But Wukong had a dreadful, heavy feeling that Macaque hadn’t given him a New Year’s deadline for no reason; if there was a commotion in the city, he couldn’t let MK handle it alone.

And if MK got left on the roof of a building, it only marginally had something to do with the kid jumping on his head, and mostly just the realization that Wukong couldn’t bring a panicking, frightened MK right into the heart of Macaque’s personal affairs. If MK hadn’t been able to stomach the spiders crawling the streets, there was no way he could have brought the kid any further into the den of monsters.

There was a rather foolish part of him that assumed Spider Queen was the source of Macaque’s threat, the shadow’s warning was a fleeting thought under the live-wire webs draining him of energy–someone’s after the kid’s power. And he’d had half a mind to be amused when he and Demon Bull King slipped out of her clutches; this, a measly city-wide takeover, was Macaque’s big threat?

He should have known better, really. Macaque may have had a reputation for being a coward, but Wukong had seen him take on far scarier things than a spider; he’d fought side by side with Wukong for some of his worst battles. But even if he should have expected a heavier hitter than than Spider Queen, there was no way to anticipate the Lady.

With the city cleared of any lingering spiders and MK safe as Wukong could make him, he had ventured into the Realms to hunt down any information he could on the Lady. He knew MK was less than pleased about his impromptu ‘vacation’, but Wukong didn’t want his successor anywhere near the situation. Taking on the Demon Bull King and the Spider Queen was one thing, they were manageable threats for someone with MK’s experience, but the Lady was a different monster entirely.

The temple he’d finished raiding had been a dead end–three days of breaking down walls and uncovering buried murals, brushing off his successor and scouring the whole area within a mile radius, only to find nothing. He was hoping to find anything, and came out the other side empty handed. No secret chambers, no war room full of maps and notes detailing the Lady’s plan. Just four stone walls with far too many booby-traps between them.

Wukong might have looked relaxed enough, sitting by a campfire, tired and bruised and barely keeping his eyes open, but he felt like a rock of glowing ember, just waiting for something to ignite him. His search for the information about the Lady hadn’t progressed well–or at all, and the whole thing had set him more on edge than he’d have liked.

“Maybe when Hell freezes over,” he muttered to himself, tossing another log onto his growing fire. Seeing as he couldn’t take his anger out on the Lady, he aired his grievances to the wind–and maybe part of him hoped that Macaque could hear, but he really just wanted to vent the sparking, smoking anger under his skin. “And I bet Macaque thinks he’s so clever.”

Wukong did try his best to meet Macaque’s antagonism with indifference, but tired and sore and huddling around a campfire was a rather inopportune time for Macaque to come slithering out of the shadows. “I do occasionally appreciate my own brilliance.”

“Not in the mood,” Wukong said shortly, refusing to give Macaque a single inch to run with.

Macaque’s eyes glittered, flicking back his scarf dramatically to crouch by the fire, “Duly noted. You underestimate how much I don’t care.” He shifted on the balls of his feet, shoulders wriggling as he settled into the warmth. “This seat taken?” he asked innocently and Wukong set his jaw, his gaze flicking to the blackening logs of the fire. “Great,” Macaque said amicably, like he’d been offered, “I’ll make myself comfortable, then.”

Crackling and crickets filled the space between them for a moment, and Wukong was content to let it sit. He’d half hoped that the silent treatment might have bored Macaque into leaving, but the shadow seemed content to warm his hands, claws hovering a hair’s breadth from the flames. “Careful you don’t set yourself on fire doing that,” Wukong muttered finally, “god forbid you make me laugh.”

“You wound me, Wukong,” Macaque replied, shuffling closer to the fire. Wukong couldn't imagine what he was trying to prove by it; the weather was cool enough to comfortably sit by a fire, but not nearly cold enough to warrant getting wrapped in the flames. “And here I was being helpful again,” Macaque’s passive expression twitched a bit, a barely there furrow of his brow, “for all the good that did me.”

It was well established that Wukong and Macaque had very different definitions of helpful, and suddenly Wukong remembered the last conversation with his successor. MK’s distressed pleas for Wukong’s attention had him sitting ramrod straight. “What did you do,” he demanded.

“I told him a story,” Macaque drawled, and Wukong had to cling to his last shred of willpower to not hurl himself across the firepit. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I didn’t even lay a hand on him this time?”

“No,” Wukong said shortly, because Macaque was clever, and there was most certainly a loophole in there somewhere.

“Really,” Macaque insisted, pulling his hands away from the flames and tucking them into the space between his knees and stomach, “your little successor threw every punch.”

Wukong’s fur bristled into stalactites of anger, “At what,” he pressed.

“Shadows,” Macaque answered, vaguely enough that Wukong knew it couldn’t possibly be as simple as a few Macaque-shaped shadows. “You’re lucky I stepped in when I did,” he mused, “MK’s gonna start getting tired of that whole ‘believe in yourself’ schtick you keep passing off as training.”

The shadow must not have been as indifferent to the situation as he seemed, because when Wukong’s leg shifted–not to stand, just to put it in a more comfortable position–Macaque’s gaze snapped to him warily, guarded and wild like a cornered animal. “What,” Wukong pressed again now that he had Macaque’s undivided attention, “did you do.”

Macaque’s gaze raked over him, eerily still where he perched, then he relented, “I put his friends in the lamp,” and there was more to the sentence, Wukong could see Macaque’s lips parting to further explain himself, but there were lines to this dance of theirs. Macaque should have known better than to admit something that damning after being warned that Wukong was not in the mood.

But Wukong should have known better than to think he’d get the drop on Macaque; in the time it took him to stand, Macaque had kicked a log out of the fire and melted into the shadows while Wukong scrubbed the embers from his eyes. There was a singular moment of blinding panic–the same kind of panic that’d seized him swooping into a spider-infested city, MK’s arms like a vice around his head–and he took a few startled steps back, gasping and cursing at the rush of smoke and sparks.

He wrenched the rush of adrenaline towards something more productive than fear, eyes blazing and gold as he searched for Macaque among the fire-stretched shadows of the clearing. It was a long moment of fleeting glances, every shadow moving suspiciously in the flickering light of the fire, but then he caught his own outline shifting, stretching long until it climbed a tree and peered out at Wukong with glowing, violet amusement.

Wukong wrestled with his impulse control for a moment, debating if punching the tree would be just another way of giving Macaque what he wanted, and eased his stance where it stood poised to strike. “Where’s the lamp,” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“Broken,” Macaque’s voice echoed about the clearing, “his friends are fine. I just wanted to see how long it took for the kid to go looking for them.”

“What happened to telling him a story,” Wukong asked tensely, hands flexing at his sides to ease the anger out of them.

The shadow of Macaque shrugged. “Multitasking,” he replied, and the last of Wukong’s fury was chased away by his exasperation, leaving behind a dull frustration. “Look, the kid was trying to train himself with a videogame for thirty-six hours straight,” Macaque explained, “I had to step in.” A smile stretched wide across Wukong’s warped shadow, “I mean, unless you wanted another gaping hole in your wall, in which case, I’ll just let the kid have at it next time.”

Turning from Macaque’s gaze, Wukong began building the dying fire back up from where it’d been kicked. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered. “I thought I told you to make yourself scarce if you weren’t going to be useful.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Macaque cooed,  “I am here to make myself useful.” Apparently realizing Wukong had simmered down enough to approach, Macaque once again melted out of the shadows. “I’m afraid it’s good news and bad news, though,” he added, settling back into a crouch by the fire. “Take your pick of the order.”

Not trusting Macaque wouldn’t give him two disastrous choices, Wukong opted to get his disappointment out of the way, “If you’ve actually got any for me,” he sighed, “I could use some good news.”

Macaque snorted, “Yeah, I bet you could, after this dead end.” Wukong shot him a glare, though Macaque didn’t even bother looking up from the flames. “The good news is that I just got my ass handed to me yesterday.” He glanced up at Wukong with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, laden heavy with bitterness, “Figure that’d put you in a good mood.”

Wukong hummed, pushing a log back into the flames and flicking the ash off his hand, “You know, it does make me feel a bit better about what you did to MK.” Macaque rolled his eyes and resumed warming his hands by the fire. It occurred to him suddenly that Macaque wasn’t actually affected by the weather so much as, “The Lady.” Macaque’s brow furrowed at the name, “Is that the bad news?”

“My little intervention with MK tipped off her lapdog,” Macaque muttered. “He took the lamp, which means she’s one step closer to putting her plans into action.”

“Well, don’t act like it’s the end of the world or anything,” Wukong replied half-heartedly. Macaque was silent, so Wukong prodded, “What were trying to teach MK that was so important, anyway? I thought you were trying to keep a low profile.”

Macaque lips parted to answer, then bit the inside of his cheek in thought, “That kid’s a lot like you,” he said slowly, “you know that, right? It’s almost uncanny.” His gaze drifted for a moment before resolutely narrowing on the fire. “And you’ve trained him well, too; he goes right for the eyes.”

Wukong’s stomach lurched at the accusation–the idea that he’d train MK to be so purposeful and ruthless–but Macaque probably only said it to get a rise out of him, so, “Your point?” he prompted through his tightening vocal cords.

“The kid was getting distant from his friends,” Macaque continued. “He’s not sure what’s coming, but he knows it’s going to be a fight.” Macaque’s arms closed tighter around himself, “The one thing he shouldn’t do while obsessing over this fight is drive away all people who’re gonna help him. He’s gonna need as many people in his corner as he can get.”

“A lot like me,” Wukong remarked dryly, long since used to Macaque’s less than subtle jabs at past choices–and past regrets. “So, the kid gets a little too in his head and you gotta pull out all the stops, huh? Think you’re gonna teach him the importance of ‘listening to his friends’ by kidnapping them?”

“Some learning about ‘friends’ would’ve saved you a lot of trouble, back in the day,” Macaque replied. “Figured it’d be better for MK to learn sooner rather than later, considering what’s at stake.” He gestured around them vaguely, “I kinda like the universe where it is, thanks.”

Scowling, Wukong reminded Macaque, “I’m out here trying to fix this, you know.” Macaque’s brow raised doubtfully. “Don’t shoulder MK with the universe before I even get a shot at preventing what’s coming.”

“It’s in everyone’s best interest to have as many players on the field as possible,” Macaque huffed, “I don’t want to shoulder the kid with anything, but if you’re not gonna come back to the city and teach him like a real mentor-”

“I can’t go back until I know I can take her down,” Wukong interjected. “I don’t want him involved with this unless he has to be, and I definitely don’t want him involved with you.”

“If you’re not gonna go back and help him work this out,” Macaque snapped, “then you don’t get to complain when the Lady decides how involved he is.” His gaze flicked to Wukong, “And if you’re gonna stop me from getting involved,” he added, “then you better take your shot now.”

Wukong hoped his snarl hid the way his stomach fell through the ground, “That’s not funny.”

Macaque held his gaze evenly, “I’m not laughing.”

The fire popped noisily between them, and Wukong reached to feed it another log. “Whatever,” he murmured, “you already got your ass handed to you yesterday, right? Seems like the Lady did my job for me.” Macaque hummed, but didn’t appear to have any more of a response than that, so Wukong took advantage of the silence, “What’s she got on you, anyway? This can’t just be about the lamp.”

“It’s not,” Macaque confirmed, “it’s about me not upholding my end of a deal.” He shuffled again, dangerously close to the fire, “She’d have turned this world into a blank slate a long time ago if I hadn’t left her key in the desert somewhere.” A smile graced his features, something small and notably victorious, “Took that puppet of hers ages to find.”

Wukong whistled, “Deal with the devil, huh?” he asked. “Awfully devious of you to double-cross the Bone Demon, bud.” And stupid, too–although maybe not quite so stupid as making a deal with her in the first place. The Lady Bone Demon wasn’t a very forgiving entity.

“The world got another couple of centuries to exist because of that double-cross,” Macaque pointed out. “You’re welcome.”

For a moment, Wukong let the gentle crackling of the fire break the tension between them. “Why’d you make a deal with her, anyway?” he asked quietly. He and Macaque weren’t big on small talk, if the Lady could qualify as such, but this was the closest to civilized he’d been with Macaque in ages and–sue him!--he was curious, “Must have been one hell of a deal, if the exchange was getting her out of the box.”

Something tired and hysterical tumbled out of Macaque, a wheeze that might have been a laugh with a little more energy behind it, “I mean,” Macaque shrugged, “it’s not like you dragged me back out of the Underworld.”

Knuckles cracking, Wukong’s hands curled into startled fists; it seemed intentional that Macaque would mention it so soon after telling Wukong to take his shot, and if he had said it to get under the king’s skin, he very nearly succeeded. “That,” Wukong hissed, “is not fair.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Macaque replied, voice thin with anger, a hairpin trigger pulled taut. “You’re lucky I’ve even made this much of an attempt to help you. I owe the Lady my life, and I owe you,” he spat, “nothing.”

“What are you even doing here, then?” Wukong challenged.

Macaque shook his head, breath escaping him in a single, bitter scoff, “Great fucking question.” He rose from his crouch, turning on his heel and into a portal before Wukong could squeeze in a last word. Wukong distantly wondered how Macaque always managed that, and how it never failed to get under his skin. The stubbornness might have been endearing, some centuries ago–Wukong might’ve even been elated to have his soft-spoken warrior fighting him for the last word of whatever meaningless argument they’d started.

Throwing himself backwards into the grass, Wukong grumbled–half to himself, and half hoping that Macaque could hear him, wherever he managed to slink off to. It wasn’t often that he’d admit defeat when he was on a mission, but he knew Macaque wasn’t lying about the threat the Lady posed. Scouring her temples wouldn’t give him any more answers than he already had. If there was no way to figure out the Bone Demon’s plans, then Wukong needed to switch gears.

Fortunately, Wukong had always been much better at offense than defense. There weren’t a lot of ways to take down someone as powerful as the Lady, but he’d find a way. He always found a way. 

Wukong clenched his jaw around his muttered complaints about Macaque to plot in silence, just in case his shadow was actually listening in on him. Whatever the Lady had planned, Macaque was a part of it–however begrudgingly his loyalty didn’t matter; Wukong couldn’t risk Macaque overhearing where he’d be off to next. His claws dug into the grainy dirt beneath him, anchoring himself to settle the whirlwind of ideas knocking around his scattered mind.

He watched the smoke from his campfire spiral into the air for a while–anywhere between a few hours and an eternity, or at least long enough for rays of light to begin peering over the horizon. Wukong had half a mind to let the sun rise without him, but he only allowed himself a precious few minutes of dew-soaked rest before dragging himself upright. If it had to be a fight with the Lady, then so be it; Wukong was lucky enough to know how he could find a weapon, though he doubted the keeper of its map would hand it over easily.

Shaking his head to clear his doubts, Wukong summoned Nimbus from the sky. He sometimes missed the confidence that he’d had in his youth, the naive sort of arrogance that made him feel like he could take on the world bare-handed. But with time came knowledge, and Wukong was painfully aware that the universe didn’t care for anyone’s pride. There was always something more to take, and he absolutely could not afford to fail.

And they didn’t fail, though it was no thanks to Wukong’s efforts. He came back from his vacation too late, MK’s staff already ripped from his hands, magic completely drained, and–ah, Wukong had just enough time to think, eye twitching angrily at the Lady, a lesson. But his anger had to wait until he had the energy for it, scooping MK into his arms and darting off into the sky in a less than daring escape.

The battlefield had a dance to it that Wukong loved, and the king hadn’t met anyone in his long life that played the game better than Macaque. It was easy to be irritated with Macaque’s theatrics, angry even, but Wukong couldn’t bring himself to be anything more than exasperated. Of course, Macaque couldn’t just let them save the world; of course, Macaque just had to make a hard journey more difficult by attacking Wukong and his friends; of course, he did.

But Wukong’s frustration was humbled by Macaque pushing him into the ship floor, hovering over him with some snide comment about winning sides. And Wukong realized, just barely holding Macaque from descending upon him, that the shadow was giving him another warning. Wukong and MK were powerless, weaponless, helpless against Macaque’s strength and magic. The shadow could have dragged them to the Lady whenever he damn well pleased, but he was feeling out the winning side.

Wukong couldn’t deny the sliver of relief that dug into his chest knowing that Macaque wasn’t quite so crazed that he’d help destroy the world without a bit of resistance. Wukong doubted he and MK would get many chances to prove they could stop the Lady, but it was better than nothing and maybe more than Wukong deserved.

He forced himself not to think about the fragile, razor-thin wire Macaque was walking–letting MK escape in the desert, all the times he was certain Macaque was lurking in a shadow somewhere and not opening a portal beneath their feet–because the Lady was cruel, and Macaque had already betrayed her once. It wasn’t until they were near the end of their journey, pinned down by shards of ice, that he let himself confront what Macaque truly had at stake.

Goading Macaque into an argument might not have been his best idea–Nezha certainly didn’t seem to approve of the tactic–but Wukong was desperate. He teased and insulted, anything he thought might rile Macaque enough to fight him and give them an opening to escape, but the warrior barely spared him a glance, a tired glare.

I couldn’t care less, Macaque had seethed, about what the Lady Bone Demon wants. And Wukong had known that, he’d known the whole journey, from the very first attack Macaque had held him down and did nothing, that it’d never really been about helping the Lady. But it only just occurred to Wukong, as Macaque limped after MK and the Rings, that it was about surviving.

There was a shadow over Macaque’s amber eyes, already half swallowed by the Lady’s parasitic magic- already half dead from the strain it must have put on his core- or what? you’ll make things worse? For MK, for the world, for the already precarious situation they were in–for Macaque.

Perhaps that was why, when Macaque was finally in Wukong’s grasp, dragged back through the portal he tried to escape from, the king couldn’t actually bring himself to do anything. His fist, poised to strike, trembled even before Tang had called to him, because Macaque was tired and scrabbling at the hand around his throat and wrenching his head to the side to protect his one good eye, and how could Wukong be angry if Macaque couldn’t even muster up the energy for a taunt?

Besides, it was probably for the best that he hadn’t punched Macaque. He couldn’t fathom how the kid had managed to get the Macaque’s help fighting the Lady–fighting him–but he doubted the shadow would have been so inclined if Wukong had already dealt him some damage. He’d have been thankful for Macaque’s assistance, if he remembered how to express anything towards the shadow that wasn’t a very worn kind of anger.

When it was all said and done, it was almost a relief how easily Wukong and Macaque started bickering. Their meaningless argument over a bowl of noodles saved Wukong the trouble of figuring out how to express gratitude, and–more importantly–it forced Macaque to scurry off the mountain before Wukong had to make him. The sage had barely mustered up the energy to see the kid and his friends back down the mountain, much less deal with anything regarding Macaque.

There wasn’t a word that Wukong could use to describe his exhaustion after the near-apocalypse, but he couldn’t relax with the static under his skin, the remnants of adrenaline that hadn’t quite left his body. He found himself–maybe a bit deliriously– wishing for the shadow’s presence as he trudged back up Flower Fruit Mountain. He’d have taken an argument over the silence–he’d attempt conversation, an arguably much more intimidating thing, but he was certain that Macaque was miles aways, slipping through the shadows and dropping off the face of the planet.

At least, he’d assumed so, until he spotted a shadow sitting on a ledge near the edge of his territory. Ordinarily, Wukong would have confronted him, but there was something about Macaque that seemed so uncharacteristically slumped and tired and wrong, and he really shouldn’t have cared, but- “What are you doing here,” he asked anyway. “Got another cryptic warning for me?”

For a moment, Macaque said nothing, ear twitching in anticipation like he was waiting for Wukong to make an actual demand. When none came, the shadow hummed, “Just needed a breather.” Macaque’s legs shifted with a barely audible grunt, pressing a hand into his knee to stand. “I’ll go.”

Wukong nearly let him, briefly considered chasing him out with some half-baked jab, but something pained escaped Macaque as he tried to stand that made a long forgotten part of Wukong ache, “Don’t bother,” he said, as indifferently as he could manage, “as long as you’re not making trouble, you can stay.”

“Great,” Macaque mumbled, dropping back to the ground. It was odd, and Wukong couldn’t quite put together why Macaque wasn’t being his usual, taunting self, but he knew questioning it would do him no favors. “Just gonna stand there, or what?”

Wukong huffed out something that might have been a laugh if he weren’t so tired, making his way to the ledge. “You think I’m staying on my feet after a day like this?” He groaned as he sat, and he could almost hear MK comparing him to the old noodle shop owner. “Between Nezha and the Lady, I’m beat.”

“Not used to those back to back fights anymore, huh?” Macaque teased, a genuine playful lilt to his voice that caught Wukong off guard. “Back in the day, you’d already be gearing up for the next battle.”

“Back in the day, our enemies weren’t quite so ruthless,” Wukong pointed out. “I know you had your deal with the Lady or whatever, but would it have killed you to make our jobs just a little easier?”

The shadow’s expression faltered a bit, “Well, yeah,” he said slowly, “probably. The Lady isn’t, uh- fond, of failure, y’know? I was pushing my luck letting you get away as much as I did.” Wukong hummed, turning his gaze back to the setting sun and trying hard not to linger on his misstep in the conversation. “I’m surprised it never occurred to her that I could’ve portaled you right to her doorstep.”

“I did wonder about that,” Wukong mused. He recalled his successor telling him about the encounter with Macaque in the desert, the shadow’s looming threat coaxing the anger and magic back out of MK–or at least enough of it to escape. “I just figured you were getting caught up in your own theatrics and forgot.”

“Those theatrics were your saving grace and you know it,” Macaque rolled his shoulder, and Wukong grimaced at the audible crack it made. “I told you I was picking the winning side; you’re lucky I gave the kid time to prove himself instead of throwing you through a portal the first chance I got.”

“What, you want my gratitude or something?” Wukong deadpanned. “You want a ‘thank you’ for being slightly less mean than you could have been?”

A wheeze tore out of Macaque’s throat, devolving into a cough that made Wukong look over for the first time and give the warrior a proper glance. A weary smile stretched across Macaque’s face, even though his brows furrowed in discomfort. “Gratitude,” he managed, “from you? Wasn’t exactly counting on it.” He sat back up, taking a deep breath and running a hand over his right side. “But you’re welcome, anyway.”

“What’s wrong with you,” Wukong asked. And because that most certainly sounded too much like caring, he added, “If you’re injured, I’m not fixing you.”

“Oh, relax,” Macaque drawled, “I’m not gonna bleed all over your mountain or anything,” He patted his chest absently. “The ribs you cracked just need a couple hours to heal,” Wukong’s own ribs squeezed at his heart, but he ignored the feeling as best he could, “my leg already feels almost good as new.”

Wukong swallowed back something bitter. “The hell happened to your leg?” he asked, because he vaguely remembered a glimpse of the hit that might have broken Macaque’s ribs, but he didn’t remember much of anything else until MK’s voice began drawing his consciousness back to overpower the Lady.

Among the many downsides of possession were the memories tainted by the Lady, like windows panes blurred and fragmented by frost–the view was there, just fuzzy and out of reach. Wukong was fairly certain that if he squinted through the glass, he’d see Macaque’s body ragdolling across the ground, and he decidedly didn’t want to linger on that image.

Snorting, Macaque replied, “You threw me into a mountain at mach speeds, Wukong.” He flexed his leg, swinging it idly over the ledge. “It was a hard landing, that’s all.” His gaze slid to Wukong for a moment. “The Lady didn’t make you do anything irreparable, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried about it,” Wukong replied immediately, a bit more defensively than he meant, and Macaque raised a brow at him, eyes quickly darting down and up again as though studying the sage. “You, I mean, I’m not-” Wukong huffed, “you can take care of yourself, is what I’m saying. And you deserved it, anyhow, just a little bit.”

Macaque hummed, “And after I was so helpful, too,” he drawled. “But heaven forbid you actually give a shit about little ol’ me, right?” He reached out and patted Wukong on the shoulder before the sage could protest. “Don’t worry, Monkey King, I’ll keep saving your ass,” Macaque said, his voice lacking its usual practiced haughty composure, “s’what I do.”

“Sure,” Wukong snorted, though his taunt faltered a bit on a memory of MK dropping though the ground, a feat that could only be achieved via portal, and he was fairly certain that they’d been ditched after the Samadhi Fire incident. “Why did you come back?”

“Because I don’t hate you more than I like living,” Macaque replied dryly. “I prefer the world in one piece, even if that means I gotta help some reckless kid and his even more reckless mentor.”

Wukong nodded, “Right,” he muttered, sounding quite a bit more deflated than he’d meant to–though he couldn’t possibly fathom what he had to be disappointed about, “of course.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Macaque chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you missed me or something.” Wukong’s heart skipped a beat at the accusation, but the shadow hummed, “Or missed me watching your back, anyway.” The sage didn’t even have time to form a response before Macaque continued, “Know what? You can make it up to me literally right now.”

At that, Wukong recovered a bit of his irritation, “Make it up to-” his brow furrowed, “I don’t owe you anything.”

Macaque flapped a hand at him, “Okay, sure, but consider: I watched your back, now you watch mine?”

“I’m not-” Wukong started, but Macaque shushed him, batting at the king’s cloaked shoulder. “Hey-!”

“Watch my back,” Macaque said again, a little more demanding, his hand grasping Wukong’s shoulder and shaking it in a gentle scold, “quietly. The adrenaline’s wearing off and I have about a month’s worth of sleep to catch up on.”

Some startled, strangled noise escaped Wukong, “You-” there was a retort there, somewhere on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite convince himself that Macaque was taunting him, so he heaved a sigh instead, “Alright, I give up trying to figure out your game here.” He reached up slowly, pulling Macaque’s hand from his shoulder. “Did you hit your head or something?”

“You hit my head or something.” Macaque pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and scrubbed them over his face, “Next time someone’s gotta fight you,” he muttered, “I’m not volunteering.”

“Why didn’t you just portal yourself home when you left everyone earlier?” he asked, his hand halfway to reaching for Macaque’s arm. “You still have that, uh… the dojo thing, right? If you need to sleep that bad, what are you still doing here?”

Macaque hummed, “Can’t portal further than half a mile like this, and I don’t even know if my dojo is still standing after what the Lady did to the city,” and every argument on Wukong’s tongue wilted. It was rare that Macaque’s composure betrayed his flesh body’s limitations, and even rarer that the warrior would admit them out loud. “Would you just- I only need, like, two hours; I’ll leave when I wake up.”

Under normal circumstances, Wukong might have entertained Macaque just to have some peace and quiet, let Macaque slip away again once he’d slept. If asked why he hadn’t, he’d blame his bleeding heart on the fact that he was tired, not thinking straight, and didn’t feel like sitting on the ground for a few hours while Macaque slept, “Or,” he started, clearing his throat when his voice hitched, “uh- do you think you could walk?”

“Probably,” Macaque sighed, “told you, leg’s fine.” A small, tired smile crossed his features, “Why, gonna make me trek down the mountain?” he asked, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes–not outright hurt, but something close enough, like he was suddenly so certain he was about to be kicked off the mountain and didn’t know how to argue his case.

“No,” Wukong said quickly, “I just- there’s always the house,” his fingers laced together and squeezed, and Wukong hoped that his stammering didn’t betray how nervous he was to make the offer. “The one that- I mean, you know what house I’m talking about, right?”

Nose scrunching, Macaque clarified slowly, “The one with a giant hole in the wall from the kid?” Wukong’s head jerked, a tentative nod. “What about it?” His head tilted curiously, “Are you offering sanctuary for the night?”

Wukong bit the inside of his cheek, fangs digging into the flesh anxiously, “I’m offering a truce.” He glanced over at Macaque, hunched in on himself and staring back at Wukong with a confused little furrow in his brow. “Even if your dojo is still standing, I don’t want you anywhere near MK.” Macaque huffed, confusion eased by his exasperation, but he didn’t protest. “I rarely use the house anymore, so… and it’s not like you’re banned from Flower Fruit Mountain.”

He held his breath, waiting for Macaque’s response. “Truce,” the shadow said finally, softly, like the word itself was so fragile it’d break under any more force than a breath. “I’ll think about it,” another smile tugged on the corner of Macaque’s lip, “not sure I feel like sharing space with you just yet, Wukong.”

“I hardly ever leave Water Curtain Cave, anyway,” Wukong insisted, “I doubt we’d even cross paths,” and he wasn’t even sure why he was fighting so hard to keep Macaque on the mountain. Macaque was tricky, and the thought of having to constantly watch his own shadow was not an appealing one, but Wukong couldn’t help but press, “Look, I just- I really don’t want you near MK, and I’d barely know you were here, anyway.”

Macaque snorted, “You’d barely know I was here even if I was living in the cave with you.” His hand reached up, absently fidgeting with the neck of his scarf, “But, it’s appreciated. The offer, I mean.” He glanced over at Wukong with a small, faltering smile, a faint crinkle at the corner of his eyes. “I’ll take advantage of your generosity for the night, at least. It’d be rude to refuse such a gracious gesture from His Majesty.”

Wukong swallowed, forcing the words, “You’re welcome,” around the tightness in his throat. “I’m not kidding about leaving MK alone, though.”

“I know, I know,” Macaque grunted, shuffling to get his legs under him, “pretty much the last thing on my mind.” He huffed out a laugh, “Kid went for the face again while we were in the desert; at this point, I can’t help but think it’s intentional.” Wukong bit his tongue while Macaque hauled himself up, “Wasn’t planning to give him any more reasons to take a swing at me.”

“Right,” Wukong murmured, brushing off his skirt as he got to his feet, “You, um- you don’t actually think I taught MK to do that, do you?” he asked, grasping at his sleeve–an old nervous habit that didn’t go unnoticed by Macaque, amber eyes flicking to the motion. “Because I wouldn’t,” Wukong continued quickly, smoothing the fabric of his sleeve like that’d disguise the minute crack in his facade, “I didn’t.”

Indifferently brushing off his scarf, Macaque commended, “It’s good tactics,” he picked at his claws absently, “knowing your enemies’ weaknesses and all. Not like I didn’t deserve a punch in the face, anyhow.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Relax,” Macaque assured, “I know you didn’t. Just funny, s’all.” He propped his hands on his hips and scanned the treeline. “Now, how far is that house again? More or less than half a mile?”

“Definitely less.” Wukong studied Macaque for a moment, “You sure you have the magic for that?” He gestured vaguely at Macaque’s chest. “I saw you pulling at your core for our last stand against the Lady.” It wasn’t often that Macaque plunged a hand into his chest, and Wukong was thankful for it, shuddering a bit at the memory, “Still freaks me out when you do that.”

“I got enough energy for a small skip and jump,” Macaque replied shortly, apparently not keen on further discussing the state of his magic, “don’t you worry your giant, heroic head about it.”

Wukong rolled his eyes, “I dunno why I bother with you,” he grumbled, but the words didn’t have quite as much bite behind them as he would have liked, edging too close on the territory of exasperated fondness. “You’re lucky the kid sees something in you that I don’t.”

“Yeah,” Macaque snickered, “getting roped into saving your ass; lucky me.” A portal opened at Macaque’s feet as he continued, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then,” his smile turned sharp, just for a moment, and he added, “though I can’t guarantee that you’ll be seeing me.”

Spluttering, Wukong exclaimed, “What do you-” he shouted, an indecipherable outburst of frustration as Macaque disappeared through the ground. “I did not,” he hollered at the empty space, knowing damn well Macaque could still hear him from the house, “invite you to live here so that you could spy on me!” He was met with his own echoing voice, and he dragged a hand over his face in the lingering silence. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “This is what I get for trying to be nice.”

It was days of watching his own shadow before Wukong could convince himself that Macaque had been teasing about spying on him, but he was still left with an odd sense of unease in his chest. Macaque’s absence was an old wound that had long since scabbed over, but it seemed the shadow’s mere presence was enough to start tearing off the years of carefully placed bandages. It’d been easier to keep Macaque out of mind when he was out of sight, but having the warrior back in his orbit brought a storm of emotions to the forefront of Wukong’s mind that refused to be calmed.

“You haven’t seen Macaque around, have you?” Wukong had asked MK one day. It’d spilled out of him during one of their easier training days, Wukong aimlessly tossing out directions and MK tossing the staff accordingly. “No more mysterious shadow plays at your theater or anything?”

MK, balancing the staff on his forehead precariously, replied, “Yeah, uh… no,” he stumbled a bit to keep the staff from teetering over, “haven’t seen him since you guys fought over my noodles.” His gaze flicked to Wukong curiously, letting the staff drop back into his hand. “Why, you think he’s up to something?”

“No,” Wukong said quickly, “I mean, maybe, I just- we had this deal and-” He cleared his throat, “Don’t worry about it, bud. I just wanted to make sure he was leaving you alone.” Something knowing in MK’s gaze had Wukong’s eyes darting away, scratching at his cheek in a poor imitation of indifference. “Good to have things back to normal,” he managed, “calm and peaceful; Macaque-less.”

The dubious stare MK shot him made heat creep up his neck, and he was thankful for the thick fur there hiding the red sprawl of emotions–something like shame, something like embarrassment, something he couldn’t quite put a name to and didn’t like MK prying at too much. Thankfully, the kid was distracted easily enough with a quick sparring match before going home, leaving Wukong to continue his attempts at wrapping bandages around his turbulent emotions about Macaque, shoving them into the shadows of his heart somewhere; out of sight, out of mind.

But the universe liked to pay Wukong back for his cheated immortality in rather creative ways, pain that his stone skin couldn’t save him from, and it didn’t seem keen on letting him close that Macaque-shaped wound in his soul once it’d been reopened. MK might have been content to let the subject slide for Wukong’s comfortability, but the Scroll of Memory had no such qualms about preserving a stubborn king’s ego, and if Wukong thought that plucking a scab on his and Macaque’s relationship was hard, it was nothing compared to the scars the Scroll carved open for him.

The Scroll of Memory was a cruel warden by design, and no amount of immortality could save Wukong from the ink-black memories wearing him out, beating him down, bleeding him dry as he cowered behind a stalactite. The stories wouldn’t stop their onslaught, and it was all Wukong could do to tear his way through them, breaking his stone hands against the walls of his own memories until there was nothing left to rip apart, just him and a cliff and the golden silhouettes of his mistakes.

Sitting on the edge of a precipice, Wukong almost hadn’t noticed Macaque standing behind MK. The kid did a pretty good job of grasping his attention and dragging it back to more productive lines of thinking. He could almost ignore Macaque’s presence, almost had to, for his own sanity’s sake, but Macaque had his gaze again with just a few bold steps. There was a still distance and MK between them, but Macaque’s lithe frame still felt looming.

MK was earnest, quoting Wukong’s advice back to him about leaving things better than they found it, and Wukong couldn’t have stopped his gaze from drifting to Macaque if he tried. Amber eyes pinned Wukong where he sat among his crumbling memories, and he wasn’t sure what he’d wanted to find in Macaque’s somber gaze, but he found that he couldn’t decipher what he found, anyway. And it didn’t matter, because the solemn, unreadable expression was gently eased by the barest trace of a smile.

Wukong wasn’t known for his honesty, he’d claim to be a humble creature and he’d be a liar for it, but more than proud or dishonest, Wukong’s most fatal flaw was his avarice. Greed was almost second nature to the Monkey King and his gaze had fallen upon Macaque’s smile. It was so small and tentative and so real that Wukong could hardly remember what he’d been brooding about in the first place; he couldn’t fathom letting Azure destroy the universe with such a precious treasure still in it for him to chase.

So blinding were the stars in Wukong’s eyes, that it somehow never crossed his mind that Macaque might not be on the same page, or even in the same book, when it came to the state of their relationship. Long after MK and his friends had made their way back down the mountain, with promises of a beach day somewhere in their near future, Wukong scoured the mountain–mostly to scavenge anything worth bringing back to Water Curtain Cave, but also to see if Macaque would slip back out of the shadows with some taunt about having to train MK again.

“Training with a videogame,” Wukong murmured aloud, for no real reason than to fill the  aching silence, “s’lot safer than your other lessons, that’s for sure,” and he wasn’t even sure if Macaque could hear him, but Wukong would pretend for his own sake. “I suppose I should thank you for helping MK get me out of that scroll,” he mused, “shame you’re so hard to track down.”

He hadn’t really expected the promise of a ‘thank you’ to work, and it didn’t. No amount of gentle coaxing or teasing summoned Macaque from wherever he’d slipped off to, and Wukong resolved that he’d just have to wait until the next time the world was almost destroyed to see his shadow again. The house Wukong had offered him as sanctuary wasn’t even standing anyway, it wasn’t as though Macaque had any reason to stick around.

Water Curtain Cave was dark and full of sleeping subjects when Wukong arrived, and he might have stumbled blindly into a puddle of white fur somewhere if it weren’t for the two lanterns sitting just inside the waterfall, far enough away that the spray couldn’t douse the soft light but close enough that Wukong couldn’t have possibly overlooked them.

For a moment, he stared uncomprehendingly, blinking at the lanterns and their torn red and purple shades. His lanterns, he realized distantly, from the house that Azure destroyed.

The lanterns were barely noticeable pieces of decor that he and Macaque had picked together a millennia ago, but they suddenly felt like beacons to Wukong as he crouched to be nearer to their light. Wukong picked up the round, red lantern and trailed a hand absently over the small tears in the paper and ran his fingers through the tassel. He didn’t dare move the purple lantern, the thin bar of wood keeping its cylinder shape cracked, impossible to hang without tearing, so he left it where it’d been carefully placed.

There was a part of Wukong that wanted to think that it meant nothing, that the memories pulled from the wreckage of Wukong’s house were somehow an empty gesture. The lanterns could have just as easily been scavenged by one of his own subjects, Wukong scolded himself before he could lose himself to fantasy, settling the red lantern next to its counterpart; he had know way of truly knowing Macaque had recovered the lanterns and returned them to him.

But he was mostly certain, and that was enough to keep his gaze trained on the flickering lights until his vision blurred, banishing the dark from every corner of the cave and warming some long-forgotten crack in Wukong’s heart.

A questioning call from one of his subjects jolted Wukong from his thoughts, sleep. His entire body suddenly ached at the reminder, eyelids drooping over his tired eyes as he mumbled out a confirmation, an assurance that he was on his way. The lanterns were delicate, not something Wukong could linger on with exhaustion dragging at his thoughts, and almost as delicate as the damaged wood and paper and tassels was Macaque, and Wukong couldn’t touch that festering wound, either, not without sleep and a clearer head.

And with rest came clarity, Wukong prying his eyes open sometime in the late morning, covered in a warm blanket of tangled limbs and tails. He couldn’t hunt Macaque, even if he tried; when he and Macaque talked or argued or fought, it was on Macaque’s terms, had to be, and the shadow seemed content to keep it that way. Macaque shoved pure light at Wukong, the lanterns, a smile, and then he slipped back off into the darkness where Wukong couldn’t find him.

Macaque’s terms, Wukong determined solemnly as he propelled himself up, out of the disgruntled pile of subjects protesting their interrupted slumber. If the lanterns meant anything–and Wukong had to believe that they did–then Macaque was grasping at the same straws Wukong was. Their centuries-long battlefield had turned into a no-man’s land, and they were both trying to figure out where they stood, but Macaque was too reserved to do anything on terms that weren’t his own.

Luckily, all those things Wukong was known for, his proud, dishonest, greed-driven habits, made him an excellent cheat. Wrangling a conversation out of Macaque had to happen on the warrior’s terms, but that didn’t mean a king couldn’t skew his chances. So, when MK drove his tuk-tuk up the mountain with a noodle lunch delivery, beach day already on the tip of his tongue, Wukong readily suggested a place. His beach, on Flower Fruit Mountain, next to Macaque’s gnarled tree–their tree, but most memories Wukong had of it were laced with Macaque, bandages and peaches and Macaque.

It wasn’t a ploy that would work unless Macaque wanted it to, but Wukong had his lanterns and his suspicions–and if he snagged an extra popsicle before he laid back in his beach chair, then it was no one’s business but his. And if he never bothered moving that umbrella from where Macaque had placed it, that was between him and the sun. And if he promised something with a ‘we’ in it and Macaque didn’t protest, no one else was around to hear it, anyway.

In the grand scheme of things, nothing had changed much. Wukong found the time to carefully patch up his lanterns and, every so often, his subjects chattered happily about sharing a branch with a shadow by the ocean, but nothing changed. Wukong very firmly shoved the urge to go spying. Not only would it probably shatter any hope of Macaque staying on Flower Fruit Mountain, but Wukong wouldn’t be able to sneak up on the six-eared celestial primate anyway, not even in his sleep.

Nothing had changed, and the kid never really even questioned why Wukong tried making a hair-clone of his house, except to give him a half-hearted apology that sounded an awful lot like, “Did you really think that would work?” Wukong had brushed it off. It wasn’t as though he used the house for anything other than watching ‘Monkey Cop’ reruns. He rarely left the trees around Water Curtain Cave if he could help it, or if he was training MK. And Macaque didn’t appear interested in it, anyway; the beach must have been pretty comfortable to be staying there almost every night.

Sometimes, though, Wukong wished that something had changed. Nothing drastic, nothing big, Wukong didn’t need the grandeur of a rekindled friendship, but he felt–after everything they’d been through, all the time they spent dancing around each other–that something had to give. It didn’t have to be friendship, it didn’t even have to be cordial, but it needed to be something.

Even when Macaque was helpful–really helpful, trying to find more information on the coming storm–it seemed as though not much had changed. Macaque caught the tail end of MK deflecting another of Wukong’s concerns and teased about how the conversation went well, like there weren’t lanterns in Water Curtain Cave, like Macaque’s sharp smile hadn’t been something softer in that scroll, like Macaque hadn’t gnawed on the wooden stick of a peach popsicle long after it’d been eaten.

And Wukong responded like he hadn’t allowed Macaque by his fire; he demanded to know if Macaque was seriously lurking, like he hadn’t offered the shadow a house. Macaque must not have seen the point in reminding Wukong of their olive branch, and instead made some flippant remark about the mountain being just as much his home as it was the king’s.

It was a less nerve-wracking talk than Wukong was used to, but neither one of them had quite grasped how to hold conversation without the tension. Macaque pressed about Wukong's old enemies, about not being ready, and Wukong stuck his royal foot in his mouth asking why Macaque came back–not how, he knew how, but why; Macaque had plenty of opportunities to disappear after the Lady, why would Macaque come back for Wukong?

He couldn’t even lift his gaze to meet Macaque’s when the shadow whirled on him with bared teeth and a frustrated growl; not the time for such questions, a mistake and he knew it. Luckily, Macaque seemed just as hesitant to start an argument, even when he had the right to, because he took a breath and continued their conversation with only marginally more tension in his voice.

But despite both their best efforts, the conversation turned south, arguing over each other about nonsense Wukong barely remembered. They were fortunate that MK started hollering for Wukong before either of them remembered how to throw a punch. Macaque slipped off again with advice Wukong tried not to take to heart: do better. Like Wukong hadn’t been trying desperately to do right by MK; like nothing had changed.

Macaque, apparently, wasn’t the only one who seemed to think that Wukong needed some wrangling. He couldn’t say that he was surprised when the Ten Kings came knocking, but he was rather startled that MK and Macaque had gotten dragged with him. His crimes were many, the deities he’d fought for information about the Lady, the map he’d stolen from Nezha’s care, but MK was only guilty of saving the world, and Wukong really tried not to think about Macaque being in the Underworld at all, much less what the Kings might want with him.

Wukong had forgotten how easy the well of pity was to fall in, until his head was once again adorned with gold. Wukong hadn’t meant the comment to be a slight, just a complaint, a way of venting his frustration about the situation since he couldn’t escape it–something about always taking the punishment while Macaque moped, but his unease over the circlet had perhaps blinded him a bit to the shadow’s own struggle.

Maybe going to jail wasn’t on my agenda for tonight, Macaque had bit out, glaring pointedly at a pair of chains. And Wukong could feel that familiar, red-hot emotion crawling up his neck again–something like shame, something like embarrassment; he barely managed some lame retort before turning away and gnawing at his lip in an effort to keep his mouth shut. When Li Jing summoned that circlet, Macaque had been shouting in protest somewhere behind him before Wukong even realized what was happening, and Wukong had just taken the first opportunity he could to throw a jab. Like nothing had changed.

Pity and bickering wouldn’t get any of them anywhere, and they both seemed to reach an understanding when Nezha stood before their prison cell and opened the door. They both wanted out of the Underworld, away from Li Jing, and to help MK save the world; any emotions that happened outside of those three things could wait until after everyone was safe, then they could argue about whatever to their hearts’ content.

Second to fighting, Wukong was most adept at escaping. Whatever he couldn’t talk his way out of, he could scheme his way out, and when all else failed there was always the option of clearing a path with his fists. It probably helped some to have Macaque, despite their mutual bitterness over being imprisoned. No one else could have formed a plan with him with just a knowing glance, kept pace with him tearing through the Kings’ palace, destroyed a small army in the time it took to swing a sword; he probably could have escaped with just him and MK, but it would have been harder, and a lot less entertaining without Macaque shrieking his name as they tumbled off a bridge to freefall through the air.

He felt a century old again, his stone body light with laughter that felt almost hysteric and hands that itched to grasp forbidden fruit. It was a high rivaled only by the crushing reminder of his leash, chained to Li Jing by a bright, blinding band of pain with no escape and no hope of convincing MK to leave him behind. He was ashamed to admit that among his frantic, racing thoughts, he hadn’t even given the shadow in the corner of his blurring vision much thought when he first saw it.

Then it streaked past him, knocking Li Jing’s hand from the air and disrupting the sigil. Wukong gasped for air at the sudden lack of pressure, but the effects lingered, ears ringing–Macaque had said something, he was certain, but he could barely even hear MK, could barely hear his own breathless, no- desperately trying to claw his way back out of the portal Macaque dropped him into, Macaque-!

Wukong wondered–briefly, because he couldn’t linger on it too long for his own sanity’s sake–if Macaque ever felt this helpless watching his retreating back when they were younger. He wondered, landing in the back of a van like the stone weight he was, how many times Macaque had wanted to wrench the monk’s hand away like he’d stopped Li Jing. And when MK began quietly reassuring himself, or Wukong, maybe both, that Macaque would get away, right? he always gets away. Wukong couldn’t quite bring himself to answer, because Macaque didn’t, not always, and Wukong knew that MK had already seen the scarred-over proof under the shadow’s glamor.

It was the only moment he allowed himself to wonder, because saving the universe had a deadline, and Wukong only knew for certain how to find one of the stones they needed to save the world. There would be a time to think about Macaque, Wukong assured himself–had been assuring himself; after the Lady, after Azure, after they’d escaped the Ten Kings, surely, but the universe, crumbling though it was, didn’t seem to care much about the when, and decided Li Jing’s pagoda would do just fine.

Of all the enemies they could have encountered, Wukong thought dazedly, of course, they’d run into the one that could flay open the memory of a wound and make him bleed out the hurt. He couldn’t have stopped himself anymore than he could have the first time, asleep with his eyes open, like every worst nightmare he’d ever had suddenly turned waking.

Perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him when Macaque broke the Hundred-Eyed Demon’s hold–after the Lady, after Azure, after Li Jing, but it did. And what surprised him more was Macaque’s flippance about it, the almost disappointed drawl about Wukong wasting his very noble sacrifice.

And Wukong wanted to ask, grab the warrior by the shoulders and demand to know if Macaque had jumped into the pagoda under the assumption that no one was coming for him. Had Macaque really been willing to risk that–for Wukong? for the world? why? And a thousand other questions that they had no time to linger on, so Wukong grasped his sleeve instead and bit his tongue. There’d be time, Wukong told himself firmly, he’d make time if he had to, for Macaque–after.

After, he swore, they’d talk about Macaque tearing himself from Xianglu’s hold to save MK; after, he thought, they’d talk about Macaque overexerting his magic–had his core even healed after the Lady? did Wukong want to know?--to give everyone else a chance to escape, to fight, to let Wukong try his hand at talking down MK; after, he convinced himself, until there was no after.

He’d only just pulled himself together again with MK safe in his arms, head pounding with red-rimmed eyes. He’d only just gotten the missing piece of his world back on the right side of living, and the universe dissolved, anyway. His chest hurt with fear–mortality had never quite sat right with him, and there was enough adrenaline in his veins to take on the Jade Emperor all over again, but there was nothing to fight. The end of the world was a spiraling freefall with nothing to hold onto, and Wukong’s claws twitched uselessly with the ever-insatiable urge to grasp at something–anything.

Macaque, he remembered suddenly; there wouldn’t be an after. Wukong turned to see the shadow standing some unfathomable distance away, gazing with such a raw, open expression that he was almost certain Macaque never meant for him to see it. He looked surprised that anyone had even bothered to find his gaze, and stared disbelievingly when Wukong offered him an outstretched hand. It was the absolute very least Wukong could do, after everything, but Macaque stared like he’d been offered the whole crumbling world.

The universe, Wukong thought, was awfully lucky to have MK to save it, absolutely last second and with a flair the great Monkey King couldn’t have taught him in a thousand years. And Xianglu was awfully lucky to have escaped into the Pillar when he did; Wukong had killed for far lesser crimes than taking Macaque’s reaching hand from him.

Wukong had braced himself for Macaque’s leaving before he’d even left. He wasn’t even sure when Macaque had slipped off, but he’d looked around at some point and forced air into his lungs upon noticing the loss. After seeing the kid and his friends safely back to their noodle shop, Wukong had summoned a nimbus to take him home. It wasn’t often that Wukong spent the night anywhere but Water Curtain Cave, but he’d been asleep in his house when the Ten Kings had stolen him away and, gods be damned, Wukong was going to sleep in his own home, even if it was just for one night.

MK would get plenty of use out of it,  Wukong was certain, with ‘Monkey Cop’ reruns and videogame parties and any other excuse he could think of to visit, but the king couldn’t help but want a quiet night anywhere that wasn’t Water Curtain Cave and his warrior’s looming absence.

If he’d been paying any more attention, he’d have noticed the faint light through the windows when he touched down and dismissed the cloud. As it were, Wukong barely had the energy to find the stairs, much less be on his guard. He all but stumbled into the house, cursing something fierce as tripped on the threshold and nearly face-planted. Wukong kicked at the door to nudge it closed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and taking a slow breath.

His claws dragged his eyelids open again, palms running tiredly over his face, and he nearly hit his head against the door behind him reeling as Macaque appeared in his line of sight, “You-” he gasped, hand pressing into the wood behind him before he could hit it, “I mean, uh…” Macaque blinked at him from the couch, crowded on the side furthest from the door and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, “hey,” Wukong finished lamely.

Cautiously, Macaque replied, “Hey,” letting it hang in the air awkwardly for only a moment before adding, “didn’t mean to startle you, I just-”

“You didn’t,” Wukong lied in reflex, clearing his throat and picking at his cape self-consciously. “You didn’t startle me, I just… wasn’t expecting company, so-”

Legs swinging off the couch, Macaque began standing, “I can-”

“No, no!” Wukong placated frantically, before Macaque could say leave, “It’s not- you can stay! I mean,” his boot scuffed the floor, “I offered, didn’t I? This house is just as much yours as it is mine.”

Macaque settled back into the couch slowly. “Alright,” he replied hesitantly, “if you’re sure.”

“Super sure,” Wukong agreed, “I’m just- I’ll take the hammock, yeah? If you’re gonna crash on the couch.” Macaque nodded, and Wukong took that as an invitation, skirting the wall and clambering into the swinging net in the corner. Not quite as good as sleeping on a cloud, Wukong mused to himself, but good enough.

The sounds of mountain nightlife slowly filtered through the silence, and Wukong watched Macaque gradually relax, sinking into the couch cushions and tucking himself into a stray blanket that’d been sprawled across the back of it. “Tired?”

Wukong snorted, “Oh, unbelievably.” He sighed and rolled over, mindful to keep the hammock’s balance, “But I don’t think sleep is gonna be finding me any time soon.” He chanced a glance up, studying Macaque’s twitching ear and flicking tail, “What about you?”

“Exhausted,” Macaque sympathized, “and probably not sleeping any time soon.”

Humming, Wukong’s eyes trailed to the soft light cast over the room. “Did you-” his brow furrowed thoughtfully, “when did you put the lamps in here?”

“Been there,” Macaque answered plainly. “Since the kid showed you the house. Snuck them in there before our, uh… chat.” He huffed out a laugh, “You didn’t notice?”

“I don’t know,” Wukong admitted, “I’m so used to seeing them in the cave, they probably just slipped right past me.”

“The little ones told me you’d fixed them up,” Macaque noted, a smile in his voice–Wukong almost wished Macaque would turn some so that he could see it, “getting sentimental in your old age, Wukong?” He had the audacity to outright laugh at Wukong’s offended scoff��old age, “Anyway,” the shadow continued, “just thought you’d like them in your new house, was all.”

Wukong, picking his battles, let the comment about his age lie, “I do like them,” he settled on, and Macaque hummed in reply. “No, seriously,” Wukong sat up, and the hammock’s creak made Macaque turn a bit, just enough to hold Wukong’s gaze with the corner of his eye, “I appreciate it. All of it, the… you know, with Li Jing and everything.”

Shoulders hunching, and so unlike the snarking shadow he’d come to know over the last year or so, Macaque mumbled something along the lines of, “Told you I’d keep saving your ass.” Then he sat up, turning to drape himself over the back of the couch and face Wukong properly. “So,” he started, “if we’re just gonna keep each other up all night,” he peered through his drooping eyelids, “what are we gonna do about the kid?”

“We?” Wukong clarified. “Promoted yourself to full-time mentor, have you? Or is there another apocalypse you’re secretly trying to prepare him for?” Macaque raised an expectant brow rather than answer, and Wukong huffed out a breath, “I don’t know. I’ve been lost since the Lady, honestly, he just- he’s become so much more than I thought he would.”

Macaque head listed, resting on his folded arms. “Think the Celestial Court had something similar to say about you, back in the day.” He chuckled and, in a poor imitation of a deep, haughty voice, drawled, “It’s just a monkey with laser eyes, it’s not like he’ll grow up to wreak havoc in Heaven.”

Grabbing a pillow out of the hammock, Wukong aimed for–and missed–Macaque face, “Shut up,” he complained, grumbling when the shadow merely blinked as the pillow bounced harmlessly off the back of the couch and hit the floor. “Give that back.”

“Nah,” Macaque replied easily. “If you wanted it, you shouldn’t have thrown it.” Still, a portal opened in the floor, and Wukong had just enough time to look up at the faint, swirling sound of shadows above him when the pillow dropped through. “You think maybe we oughta lay off the training for a while? His work-life balance hasn’t exactly been stellar, as of late.”

Wukong hummed, “I think we need to throw him a damn party or something. Another beach day, fireworks, whatever, just get the poor kid out of his head. Gods know he’s gonna need it, after that Pillar.” At that, Macaque fell uncharacteristically quiet, amber eyes blank and staring at something far behind the house’s four walls. “Are you-” and he swallows back an okay, because he couldn’t possibly expect anyone involved with the end of the world to be okay, “how’s your core?”

“It’s seen better days,” Macaque mumbled, “think that little pillow portal is gonna be all I can manage, for the moment.” Something like a smile graced Macaque’s features, something soft that just barely touched his eyes. “Just don’t throw anything bigger than a cushion until I get some sleep, yeah? Save the fighting for another day.”

“Or for no other day,” Wukong suggested before he could think better of it. “I mean, we- it’d be hard to make the whole co-mentor thing work if we’re at each other’s throats, right?” Macaque’s eyes sharpened a bit, trailing closer to Wukong, but not quite meeting his gaze. “So, maybe the fighting becomes… like, not a thing. Maybe.”

An amused puff of air escaped Macaque’s nose, “Not even a good-natured rivalry?”

“Is that what you want?” Wukong asked tentatively.

Macaque shrugged, “Does it matter?”

Wukong tucked his arms under him to sit up a little, “I wouldn’t be asking if it didn’t matter.” Macaque grunted, head twisting, scrubbing his face tiredly into the crook of his elbow. “Look, I can’t- you gotta give me something, alright? We can’t do this dance forever.”

“Can’t we?” came Macaque’s muffled reply. “It’s your favorite dance.”

“We could,” Wukong amended, “but is that what you want?”

The silence between them stretched long enough that Wukong began to wonder if Macaque had fallen asleep there on the couch. “Since when do you care about what I want?” he asked finally, not bothering to lift his head. “What are you gonna do, Wukong? That’s the real question, because you’re gonna do whatever you want no matter what I say.”

“Everything has been on your terms since you came back,” Wukong protested. “I can’t- and I don’t blame you for wanting it that way, and we could do this forever, but I don’t want to.” His jaw set, suddenly realizing that Macaque hadn’t been speaking poorly of his character, just stating a fact, “And I’m not going to,” even if that was what Macaque wanted, Wukong wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Macaque’s head turned a bit, just enough to peer Wukong through his lashes, “Yeah,” he hummed, resigned–not bitterly, just knowing, like he’d always known Wukong’s answer; or he’d at least known that his own choice wouldn’t matter much. Wukong didn’t feel very good about either option. “So, what are you gonna do?”

Wukong took a breath, “I think I’m gonna go scheme with MK’s friends tomorrow, find a way to throw him that party,” he said slowly. “And I’m gonna invite you. Properly, this time, not like the beach day. Consider this your official invitation.” Macaque’s brow raised a bit at that, surprise rounding the slits of his eyes. “And you?” Wukong deflected, turning the question on Macaque, “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna go check the state of the Underworld, now that the Ten Kings are out of commission,” Macaque replied. “Something Xianglu said isn’t sitting right with me.” He slipped off the back of the couch, laying down and making himself comfortable. “But I’ll make time for the party.”

Already anticipating Macaque’s reservation, Wukong tried, “Do I get to know about this ‘something’ before or after it turns into another apocalypse?”

“Make you a deal,” Macaque grumbled, pulling a blanket around himself, “drop it for the night so we can sleep, and I’ll let you ask me about it the next time you see me.”

“At the party?” Wukong asked.

“Whenever you see me,” Macaque yawned. “Now shut up, or the deal’s off.”

Wukong huffed, but rolled over and trained his gaze on the wall, trailing the wood grain and resisting the urge to close his eyes. Perhaps a bit selfishly, Wukong wanted to enjoy the peace between them before the morning light revealed Macaque had slipped off again. He fought sleep just long enough to remember that Macaque could probably hear his heartbeat, his breathing, knew that he was just lying there awake, and finally let his eyes rest.

He tried not to be too disappointed when his eyes opened again to sunlight and an empty couch–Macaque was going to make time. They’d talk, whenever, and it was more than he’d gotten in centuries, so he could stand to be patient about it. Wukong threw himself into planning MK a gathering of friends. He had a heartfelt conversation with MK on the roof of the noodle shop. He helped pick out fireworks while Mei dragged Redson into the party planning, he helped Tang pick out ingredients for Pigsy to cook, and he helped Sandy haul their supplies to the van and up the mountain to a quaint little cave.

It was nice, shedding the almost nonstop needling anxiety he’d been carrying around since Macaque’s first arrival. For the first time in a long time, the world wasn’t in immediate danger–or, at least, Wukong wasn’t afraid that it might be. Things were hectic in the city, and all around the world, with the Colored Stones’ magic being redistributed throughout the universe, but it didn’t feel dangerous. It didn’t feel like Wukong needed to be looking over his shoulder for the next threat.

The cool rush of shadows didn’t even phase him. If he felt anything at all about Macaque’s arrival, it was relief, which was a nice change of pace. He turned to see Macaque greeting Mei, dropping a box of lanterns with the rest of the party supplies and asking if there was anything he could help with.

There was a moment that Macaque caught Wukong’s gaze, half-lidded and tired like he hadn’t slept since that night they’d shared, and he smiled. No sharp edges or mean show of teeth, just a barely-there curl of his lips that might have melted Wukong entirely were he not made of stone.

They didn’t speak the whole night, not when Wukong came back with the blindfolded MK, not when Macaque began helping Tang hang lanterns, not when Pigsy began passing around take-out boxes full of warm food, not even when they’d helped search for Sandy’s missing matches before remembering that Mei and Redson could light fireworks just fine without them. It didn’t feel like avoiding each other, just minding their space; they had whenever to talk, and didn't need to disrupt MK’s night to do it.

After Mei and Redson’s fifth round of fireworks and all the snacks Pigsy packed had been eaten, MK started nodding off on Wukong’s shoulder to the sound of whatever Tang had playing on the van’s radio. It wasn’t terribly late, certainly not the latest Wukong had ever partied, but after what MK had been through, he was amazed the poor kid managed as long as he did.

He brushed off any offers to help clean up, all but pushing MK and his friends into their van and rolling them down the mountain. Mei had insisted on one more group selfie gathered around one very sleepy Harbinger, and nobody–not even Redson–had the fortitude to dissuade her. Wukong smiled to himself as they drove out of sight, wondering if he could pester Mei into giving him a printed copy. It’d make a nice addition to the collection he had adorning the walls of the house.

“So,” and Wukong barely flinched at the sudden voice, his head whipping around to the noise, but Macaque chuckled anyway, “now that the kids are gone.” A small portal opened for Macaque to stick his arm through, and pulled it back out with two bottles in his hand.

Wukong’s tail flicked happily at the prospect of alcohol, but he did feel the need to point out, “Every single person here was an adult, you know.” He took a bottle and bit the cork, tugging it out and spitting it somewhere. It wasn’t as though he’d be capping it again before it was empty. “I oughta tell them you were holding out.”

Macaque pulled the cork from his own bottle with a lot more grace, “You oughta keep your trap shut about it,” he warned teasingly, “or I’m never doing anything nice for you again.” Wukong hummed around a swig, fruity and sweet, sharp and warm in the back of his throat–some kind of wine. Not as good as peach wine, but it’d do. “Speaking of nice,” Macaque continued, raising his own bottle to his lips, “I believe I owe you a conversation.”

“Oh, is that why you’re getting me drunk?” Wukong asked, “So you can talk circles around me all night?”

“I got alcohol so there’s something to blame if you say anything stupid,” Macaque corrected easily. “I know you’re a lightweight, but I didn’t anticipate getting you drunk with one bottle.”

Pursing his lips and blowing air through the space, Wukong mumbled, “You’re a mean, mean soul, you know that?” He summoned a cloud from the sky to rest on, his old, stone bones tired of sitting on the cave floor. “I don’t remember you being this mean.”

“You don’t?” Macaque asked, brow raised, “What, you killed me for being super, extra nice or somethin’?” Wukong choked on the word ‘killed’ and coughed the rest of the way through Macaque’s sentence. The shadow seemed nonplussed, amused, even, at the reaction, “Careful, Wukong,” he chided lightly, “gonna lose one of your immortalities hacking up a lung.”

“What-” Wukong nearly fell off the nimbus sitting up, glaring at Macaque with rising incredulity, “what the hell is your problem?” Not to say it hadn’t ever crossed his mind, their fight, the last and only real brawl he ever had with Macaque, but he certainly hadn’t expected the shadow to toss it out so casually, like small talk, like the city’s perfect weather or the who the actual mayor was.

Macaque blinked, “Oh. Too far, huh?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and scrubbed the pads of his fingers across his eyes. “S’my bad. I’ve, uh… had a few things on my mind lately. Trying to sort some stuff out.”

“Did going to the Underworld fuck with your head or something?” Wukong asked, and he didn’t mean to sound quite as hostile as he did, but Macaque didn’t appear to care, or perhaps acknowledged that it was deserved after his comment. “I’m allowed to ask why you went investigating now, right? Not gonna be dodgy or nothin’?”

“No dodging,” Macaque said, holding up his bottle, “that’s also what the alcohol’s for. Keeping my head on straight.”

Wukong snorted, “Don’t think anyone’s ever gotten tipsy to keep their head on straight.”

“Well, being sober didn’t get me any closer to figuring this out,” Macaque sighed, tipping back another swing of his wine. “Between these last few days and that little fireworks show, my head’s going to explode.” Wukong winced in sympathy–he had noticed that Macaque had stuck to the back of the cave for most of the celebration, perched atop Sandy’s van. “And if I can’t escape the headache anyway, might as well have it at the bottom of a bottle.”

Tsking, Wukong teased, “And you pride yourself on being the sensible one.” He allowed himself one more sip before doubling down on his need for answers. “Seriously, though. What’s got your tail in a knot these days, huh? You said something about Xianglu not sitting right with you.”

“Couple things,” Macaque replied, “like, when he claimed to know you.”

Wukong’s brow furrowed, struggling to recall the moment Macaque spoke of. It was fleeting and distant, a mere blip in the conversation compared to everything else that’d been happening around them. “Something about being old friends,” he remembered, “and old enemies.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, I don’t remember him.” Macaque bit the inside of his cheek, looking contemplative. “Unless you think it does matter.”

“He said something to me, too,” Macaque explained. “Asked about my powers, where I got them,” his lips twisted into a scowl, “who I made a deal with.”

“For the shadows?” Wukong clarified, shifting to sit up properly on his cloud–carefully, with the mostly full bottle still in his hand. “I thought you always had that, the… the thing in your chest, that you can reach into.”

Macaque huffed, leaning against the nearest cave wall and sliding down, “I don’t think that’s what he was talking about.” He swirled his bottle of wine absently, “I could fight him, er- resist him, I guess, that magic of his.” Twin shudders raced down their spines; they didn’t acknowledge it. “But I never made a deal for any power. Or I don’t remember making one, anyway.”

“And I don’t remember ever being his enemy,” Wukong said slowly, “or his friend, for that matter.”

“Eh,” Macaque shrugged, raising the wine to his lips, “what’s the difference.” He either didn’t notice or didn’t care for Wukong’s withering glare, “Makes me wonder what else we don’t remember,” he added once he’d pulled the bottle away from his face.

The implication hadn’t occurred to Wukong, content to let Xianglu and all his off-putting comments fall by the wayside, but now that Macaque had brought it to the forefront of his mind, it was a thought that disturbed him more than he’d like to admit, “And you thought you’d find some answers in the Underworld…” Wukong started cautiously, “why?”

For a moment, Macaque said nothing, glaring at his bottle of wine like he could shatter it with his eyes, “Xianglu had been masquerading as one of the Ten Kings for years–eons, maybe. If I’ve got a magic similar enough to his to rival it, the Underworld would be the only connection we have.” He took another drink, three long gulps, like he was trying to down liquid courage, “What do you remember about the day I died?”

Wukong stared for a moment, trying to decipher the intention behind Macaque’s question, “You’re serious?” he asked. “Your plan for tonight was to party with the kid, get me drunk, and make us relive the worst day of our lives?” When Macaque didn’t refute the accusation, Wukong closed his eyes and tipped his head back, “This your idea of a good time? You just enjoy making me squirm, or what?”

“Yeah,” Macaque drawled, “I’m absolutely itching to have this conversation.” He lifted his wine, already more than half gone, as a show of exactly how thrilled he was. “You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to,” and Wukong did understand that Macaque’s death was a much more sensitive topic for the shadow than it was for the king–he didn’t have much to complain about, all things considered, but that didn’t make him any less receptive to the conversation. “Humor me,” Macaque shuffled to sit up straighter, though he still leaned against the cave wall like he’d fall over without it, “what do you remember?”

There was a long moment of Macaque staring at him expectantly that made Wukong want to shrivel up and hide in the nimbus, “M��uncomfortable,” he managed finally–with the conversation, with Macaque’s eyes on him, in a cave surrounded by stone, “let’s go back to the house,” he offered, lifting his bottle to take another drink–he’d need it to even approach the conversation Macaque wanted to have.

“Not portaling,” Macaque grunted, downing his own generous sip of wine. “And we still have to clean up.”

Wukong made a disgruntled noise around the rim of the bottle, abandoning the wine mid-drink to reply, “I’ll do it tomorrow.” Patting the space next to him, Wukong offered, “C’mon, plenty of room on Nimbus.”

Macaque snorted, “Your cloud is picky about its passengers, remember? I don’t think it’s gonna hold me.”

“I’ll hold you,” Wukong replied before he could give it much thought. “Just- get on the cloud.” Macaque grumbled something about having just gotten comfortable, but stood. The hand not holding the bottle of wine pressed against the cloud’s surface tentatively; he didn’t fall through, but Wukong held his arm, anyway, letting Macaque lean on him like he needed the support.

Drunk and tired and not particularly looking forward to the landing, Wukong slowly steered the wisp beneath them to the house. Macaque’s tail flicked idly behind him, rumpling Wukong’s cape every few swipes, “You’re taller now,” Macaque said suddenly, “you know that? You used to be this scrappy little guy, running around, causing mischief. No one could believe you were the great and powerful Monkey King until you proved it.”

“I’m broader, too,” Wukong noted, “MK calls it a ‘dad bod’. Mei said it was fitting that a stone monkey would be built like, uh… a brick shithouse. Or whatever.” He shouldered Macaque, “Surprised they haven’t made any comments about you, huh? You’re a stereotype: tall, dark, and handsome.” He made an unsure sound, “Well, not tall, but you know what I mean. You’re tall-er.”

“Was.” Macaque head lolled a bit, eyes sliding closed–perhaps feeling the alcohol a bit now that it’d had time to settle. “Not anymore. Noticed it on your Journey.”

Pointedly keeping his gaze trained on the horizon, Wukong asked, “For the Rings?”

“No,” Macaque replied quietly. He let the wind rush past their ears for a moment before continuing, “I guess if those Pilgrims were good for anything, it was making sure you ate at least two meals a day.” Wukong could feel Macaque’s laugh more than hear it, a puff of air lost on the breeze, “Always did wonder if your exclusively peach-themed diet was stunting your growth.”

“And you’re not-” Wukong’s claws tightened around his wine, “you haven’t grown at all?”

Macaque hummed, “Don’t think I ever will again.” His eyes cracked open a bit, staring listlessly at the space in front of him, “Tested it. Don’t gain weight, can’t lose it, definitely haven’t grown at all.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t even bleed so good anymore, s’probably on account of the, uh- heart thing.”

“Heart thing?” Wukong asked, voice strained, the little alcohol he’d drunk sitting uncomfortably in his stomach. “Do I even wanna know?”

“A non-issue. It still beats,” Macaque assured him–a fragile reassurance, all things considered, but Macaque seemed to think, “s’fine,” so Wukong didn’t comment. He steered the cloud towards the ground upon spotting the house, and Macaque’s eyes flicked open a little more at the abrupt change of direction. “You in a rush or somethin’?”

“I wish you were in a rush to pick a different topic,” Wukong admitted, lowering their ride until it hovered just a few inches off the ground. “I’m still not totally convinced you aren’t doing this as some… some plot, to mess with me.”

Taking Wukong’s offered hand, Macaque slid off the cloud, “Ah, you got me; my dastardly plan all along was to make you participate in uncomfortable conversation.” He bumped shoulders with Wukong as they trudged up the steps of the house. “Just drink your wine. You’ll feel better.”

Wukong shouldered the door open and held it for Macaque, “Look, after the Hundred-Eyed Demon, this whole situation is already pretty raw,” he admitted. “You can’t blame me for being reluctant.”

Macaque gave him an odd look from the threshold, “Is that what he showed you?” he asked curiously, genuine surprise laced into his words.

“I mean,” Wukong’s gaze flitted away, “yeah. That last fight, it’s- it was easily the worst day of my life, so…”

“Oh,” Macaque’s brow furrowed for a moment, “okay.” He slipped in the open door and started for the couch, “Alright, time to talk.”

Sighing, Wukong closed the door and followed Macaque, sitting on the couch opposite of where Macaque had made his claim, “You really think talking about this will help you figure out what Xianglu said?” Macaque shrugged, setting his bottle on the floor and staring at Wukong expectantly. “And you’re not asking me about this just to fuck with me?”

“I understand that you’re not trying to be an asshole right now,” Macaque said coolly, “but the implication that this conversation is going fuck with you and not me is laughable.” And Wukong understood that Macaque was trying to be gentle, but the alcohol did quite a number on both their filters. “So, what do you remember about the day I died?”

Wukong pressed the bottle in his hands to his forehead, letting the cool glass soothe his frazzled mind for a moment before managing, “I remember us brawling our way out of Buddha’s home,” he recalled sullenly, “and I remember that my master, he-” He grit his teeth for a moment, chewing on the words for a moment before realizing there was no kinder way of saying, “restrained you.” Macaque hummed. “The same spell we used for the Lady Bone Demon.”

“Blue chains,” Macaque remembered, “not a good time for me.”

“You did knock him unconscious,” Wukong defended the monk fiercely, though his voice was weak, “and stole our supplies. And threatened the pilgrimage. You understand how he thought that spell was necessary, right?”

Macaque nodded, “I understand why the monk thought it was needed,” he agreed easily. “But I’m not angry with the monk.”

Snorting, Wukong grumbled, “Could’ve fooled me.” Macaque raised an eyebrow at him, and he shook his head. “Whatever. So, I- you, the Demon Bull King, and Camel Ridge were all still technically wanted for treason against the Jade Emperor.” His grip tightened around the bottle, “I don’t think you deserved to get put in a box for… petty revenge. I was only going to let the monk contain you until the end of the Journey, and only because I couldn’t guarantee that the Celestial Realm wouldn’t make me do worse.”

“So… you were saving me,” Macaque supplied, a small disbelieving laugh spilling out of him, and Wukong couldn’t blame him. Much like most of Wukong’s plans over the years, it wasn’t until he was forced to voice his thoughts out loud that he realized how ridiculous it sounded. “That was your logic?”

“I never claimed it was a smart idea,” Wukong admitted, “I think turning my back on you that day was the worst decision I ever made.” His eyes opened just enough to glare at the bottle still resting against his forehead. “That’s why I told you to leave when you got free. I didn’t think you’d-”

“Stop,” Macaque interjected firmly. He didn’t sound angry, but the sound was sharp enough that Wukong lifted his head to meet Macaque’s gaze. “Say that again.”

Wukong huffed out a breath and took a drink, trying desperately to pretend that Macaque’s amber gaze wasn’t burning a hole in the side of his head. “Your magic went haywire. Damn near swallowed you whole,” he elaborated. “Looked like it was trying to rip you out of the chains, and it- I guess it did. The spell turned corrupted and red and spat you out.” He swallowed back a bitterness, trying to focus on the burn of alcohol in his throat. “And then I told you to leave, before we had to imprison you again.” He chewed on his lip until it broke the skin, then released it, letting the wound zip itself shut again, “And then you tried to… Macaque, you know, don’t make me-”

“Do you have any idea how much energy it took to break that spell?” Macaque asked. “We’d already fought each other all over the Realms; my magic went haywire because I overworked it–way worse than what I did to escape Xianglu. I blacked out breaking those chains,” he extended a hand to the open space between the TV and the couch, two shadows playing across the floor, “I woke up to this-”

There were many reasons to admire the Six-Eared Macaque, despite what got written in the book, but Wukong had always been particularly fond of Macaque’s knack for theater. He was sat on the literal edge of his seat, scooting up on the couch to watch the small display. He was certain it’d have been much more elaborate if Macaque weren’t inebriated, or had more time, but Wukong was more than capable of deciphering the two outlines before him.

Wukong watched the wispy chains snap and a shape collapse. The outline of Macaque dragged itself up, head tilted up at the second shadow and its glowing circlet–and Wukong remembered the moment, Macaque staring up, eyes wide and tired and disbelieving and scared as Wukong beared down on him. But it’d happened long into a hard-fought battle, begging Macaque to back down before Wukong had to do something he regretted; it hadn’t happened like this, but-

He didn’t want to think too hard about the implications, what must have been going through Macaque’s mind, blinking himself awake and looking up to see Wukong preparing to deliver a killing blow. The two shadowy figures collided and dissipated, the intent behind it clear–the last, decisive blow of their fight, Wukong barely remembered, not the first, “We fought,” Wukong told himself, firmly, like he had to convince himself. Then louder, “You tried killing the monk and laughed.” He turned to Macaque, his thoughts frantically trying–and failing–to piece together anything other than, “We fought.”

“Killing the-” Macaque sat up straighter on the couch, “Dude, I was already pushing my luck impersonating you and the Pilgrims; why would I go killing Buddha’s precious little errand boy?” He gestured at Wukong, “I saw what happened to the last guy who pissed off Buddha, remember? You think I’d sign myself up for five-hundred years under a mountain?”

“You think I would kill you for escaping?” Wukong fired back, a snarl on the corner of his lips that wilted at Macaque’s expression, claws dug into the arm of the chair and amber eyes glaring pointedly at anything but Wukong, “No, you-” realization crashed into Wukong like a wave, “you did. This whole time, you thought-”

“You said the seal turned corrupted when I escaped,” Macaque pressed, ignoring Wukong’s revelation. “What’d it look like?”

For a moment, Wukong couldn’t pry his gaze from Macaque’s face. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, and Macaque refused to meet his eyes, anyway, “I only caught a glimpse,” he said, turning his attention to his wine, which, all things considered, he hadn’t drank nearly enough of. “The seal was blue until your shadows got ahold of it. It turned corrupted and-” his breath hitched for a moment, catching another stray thought and shoving into the mess of puzzle pieces, “and red.” He ran a hand through his hair, “But it wasn’t- your magic was still purple when we fought, like your normal shadows, but the spell-”

“Turned red,” Macaque supplied. He downed the last of his wine and extended his hand again. “Did it look anything like this?”

Wukong nearly recoiled at the wisp of crimson that rose from Macaque’s palm, but he settled for tightening his grip around the neck of his wine. It somehow seemed like the answer to all of Wukong’s questions, if only he could decipher it. “So…” the sage started carefully, “what does this mean?”

“I don’t know,” Macaque said quietly. “But it’s… I guess it changes some things.”

“Changes-” Wukong stood to start pacing the room, the sudden rush of adrenaline running wild and cold in his veins, “We’ve been at each other’s throats for centuries over that fight,” he pointed an accusing finger at the crimson flame curling around Macaque’s fingers, “and you’re telling me it’s all because of that?”

Macaque sighed, “I don’t know,” he reiterated firmly. “Apparently, I don’t even remember dying right. At this point, you have more information than I do.” Suddenly eager to not be in his right mind, Wukong cursed and started draining his bottle of wine. “Not any closer to learning about this magic, but that’s one hell of a revelation.”

“What are you-” Wukong whirled on him incredulously. “Seriously? You’re taking this at face value?” He pressed a hand against his chest, “I’m the Monkey King, remember? Trickster god! What if I’m lying to you about the fight, huh?” He wasn’t, but it seemed hasty on Macaque’s part, to believe him so easily, “How can you just- you can’t just believe me.”

“I can, actually, because you’re a terrible liar,” Macaque replied easily, “I’d know if you weren’t telling me the truth,” He raised an eyebrow, “I, on the other hand, am a great liar,” his head tilted curiously, “so, why do you believe me?”

“Because I-” Wukong faltered, his head struggling to form a complete sentence through his whirling thoughts and the alcohol fuzzing the edge of his vision. “I don’t know, I just- I do.” Energy drained, Wukong sat back down on the couch, tossing aside his empty bottle and pressing his face into his hands.

He couldn’t put a number to how many times he’d turned that last fight with Macaque over in his head, trying to pinpoint when his best friend had become someone he didn’t recognize, someone willing to kill and laugh himself into hysterics about it. It’d been the worst fight of Wukong’s life, and it was incomprehensible to him that he and Macaque could have ever been pushed to a place where one would have to kill the other, and yet-

“I spent so long thinking you’d turned into some kind of monster,” Wukong admitted quietly. “I couldn’t tell you how many years I spent in denial, trying to think of any conceivable way that wasn’t you. And there wasn’t one. I needed an explanation, and there was just- there was nothing. My soft-spoken, sensible, loyal friend went on a murderous rampage, and I-” he curled in on himself, “and I killed you.”

Macaque was quiet for a moment, and Wukong had to dig his claws into the palms of his hands to keep himself tethered to the house. “I was going to disappear,” he murmured finally. “I remember blacking out after that spell and thinking… if I could just escape, I’d go find a hole to crawl in and stay there, you know?”

“Why?” Wukong asked.

“Dunno,” Macaque replied honestly, “I thought maybe it’d serve you right, if you came back from your grand adventure and I wasn’t home waiting for you, like I’d always been.” Wukong dragged his hands away from his eyes just enough to peer over at Macaque. The shadow had slumped against the arm of the chair, his gaze distant and staring through the walls. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if you would have come looking.” Macaque shook his head, “Wasn’t thinking very clearly, obviously, after overexerting my core like that, but-”

“And then I killed you,” Wukong reiterated helplessly.

Groaning, Macaque’s head tipped back. “Just keep saying it over and over again, Wukong,” he sighed, “I’m sure it’ll make you feel better, eventually.”

“You saved me,” Wukong realized suddenly, his attention wrenching away from the bloodied fists of centuries past and forcing him to remember the Lady, the Scroll, Li Jing, the end of the world, “You spent centuries thinking I’d killed you in cold blood, and you just kept coming back.” Macaque didn’t bother lifting his head from where it lay staring at the ceiling. “Why?”

Macaque ran a hand over his face, his expression contemplative, “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully, “maybe I just spent a lot of time trying to figure out why you did what you did, and no explanation satisfied me. You couldn't possibly have done it. But you did.” He huffed out a laugh. “I wasn’t exactly happy to accept that you were the kind of person who killed his best friend for the next best thing.”

“Macaque-” Wukong choked out.

“I think I’m just relieved that I got an explanation,” Macaque finished. “Or something like an explanation, anyway. Still know jackshit about this magic, but… that fight makes a little more sense, I guess.” He turned to Wukong with a faltering smile curling the corner of his lips, “Maybe saving your ass hasn’t been a total waste of time then, huh?”

It couldn’t possibly be this easily, Wukong thought distantly, staring blankly at Macaque’s attempt at humor, banter, amidst the absolute whirlwind of information they’d uncovered. Wukong had an enemy he couldn’t remember, and Macaque had powers he couldn’t remember getting, and they both remembered two very different versions of the fight that’d ripped them away from each other–and they didn’t know why. And it almost didn’t even matter, because Wukong was bottle-deep in wine and just inebriated enough to admit, “I missed you.”

The already tentative smile on Macaque’s face turned confused, “You what?”

“I missed you,” Wukong took a ragged breath, a futile attempt at steadying his fracturing voice, and Macaque sat up with a furrow in his brow that almost looked like concern. “I- maybe the alcohol was a mistake,” because he wanted to grab Macaque and yank him close, like he could bridge the millennia of distance between them in a single night. His fingers twitched with it, the urge to grasp and sink his claws into something and steal it away.

“Oh, not a fan of wine, suddenly?” Macaque asked, a playful taunt lilting his voice, “Thought you liked having your inhibitions lowered.” He chuckled a bit, “Or was it the flavor? I can get you a peach one next time.”

Wukong shook his head, “Just makes me honest,” he admitted; made him want things, made his hands itch. “Makes me- I want… I don’t know.”

Macaque snorted, “Since when are you shy about the things you want?” His grin became a bit more genuine, softer, “Or do you have to wait until the end of the world now,” he asked teasingly, “to ask for something so small?” Wukong blinked as Macaque extended a hand to him, staring at the space between them uncomprehendingly. “C’mon, Wukong, I don’t bite.”

“Yes, you do,” Wukong argued, almost second-nature, but he reached, anyway, grazing the pads of Macaque’s fingers.

“Well,” Macaque hummed, turning his hand over and letting Wukong trace the shape of his knuckles idly, “I won’t bite much,” he amended.

He’d blame the alcohol, Wukong decided, if ever asked why he’d grabbed Macaque’s hand and pulled, he’d blame the storm of emotions and the sweet wine sitting warm in his stomach and throat. Macaque made some strangled sound as he was yanked gracelessly across the couch, but Wukong crushed it into his chest, “Wukong-”

“Shut up,” Wukong interjected weakly, wrangling Macaque impossibly closer. The shadow could have slipped away from him and they both knew it, Wukong’s clumsy hands rendered almost useless with emotion and alcohol, but he stayed.

Wukong twisted to get his legs on the couch and under Macaque, letting the warrior sit high with auburn fur tucked under his chin. Macaque’s breath came in unsure gasps, a near-imperceptible tremble in Wukong’s arms, but he stayed–probably out of sheer stubbornness, just to prove he could let Wukong hold him without a fight between them. Wukong couldn’t say he cared much about the actual reason, not when he had the familiar weight of Macaque back in his arms after centuries of going without.

“Maybe the alcohol was a mistake,” Macaque said unsteadily, a hesitant laugh on his words. Wukong had half a mind to let go, some sharp ache of worry burrowing into his chest–it was the most physical contact they’d had in ages, and by far the kindest, but perhaps too much, too soon–but he melted at the feeling of claws running careful lines through his fur, untangling the strands and smoothing the curls back into place. “Forgot how clingy you can get.”

Humming, Wukong pressed his face into Macaque’s scarf to hear the heartbeat. It’d always been a comfort, of sorts; a lifetime ago, Wukong had tangled himself around Macaque any time he could, just to feel the shadow breathing. The heartbeat was a balm to that centuries old Macaque-shaped wound in his heart, and his eyes slipped closed, hoping to hear it steady itself as the warrior calmed.

Except that it was steady. Wukong pressed his hands into Macaque back with a frown, feeling the shadow tense under him, and yet- “Does your heart always do that?” he asked quietly.

“What,” Macaque asked, voice strained and breathless, “beat?” Wukong turned to press his face into Macaque’s hanfu, and the hands in his hair followed the motion easily, steady in their carding even with Macaque’s uncertainty. “I told you it beats.”

“You’re freaking out,” Wukong mumbled, ignoring Macaque’s scoff, “but it’s slow. Your heartbeat, it’s… but it shouldn’t-” His frazzled, buzzing mind thought back to their conversation on the cloud. “Is that the heart thing you were talking about?”

Macaque made a vague noise of confirmation, “S’kinda nice sometimes,” he said absently. “Makes training easier, in any case. I still get tired, but my heart just,” Wukong could feel him shrug, “beats. It’s all like that now. I can eat, but I’m not hungry; my heart beats, but it won’t race.” Wukong’s eyes slid closed again at Macaque’s chuckle, “It’s also pretty great for when you’re throwing me around,” he added, “told you, I don’t bleed so good.”

If Wukong were in a more stable frame of mind, he might’ve been embarrassed about the sound that escaped him, growling like a wounded dog and winding his arms tighter around Macaque, “Don’t,” he pleaded quietly.

Lithe hands slid under his cape to drag up and down his back, “Okay,” Macaque replied, “we’ll save the teasing for another time.” Wukong mumbled… something. A response of some kind, he was sure, but if Macaque’s resounding laugh was anything to go by, it wasn’t a particularly coherent one. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m tired,” Wukong corrected. The alcohol in his system was making itself known, and their conversation was a distant thought, all the tension and emotion and adrenaline draining out of him. “I wanna lay down,” he decided.

“Gotta let me up, then,” Macaque shifted as if to move, pry himself away from Wukong, and the Stone Monkey was grateful that he didn’t have to be particularly lucid to make that difficult, simply locking all his joints in place and letting Macaque struggle against the statue he’d become. “Wukong. Dude, come on,” he pressed his hands to Wukong’s shoulders and pushed, “lemme up. Go lay in your hammock so I can head down to the beach and-”

Wukong grunted his displeasure at the idea and rolled them, shoving Macaque into the back of the couch and curling around him. He was glad Macaque brought the alcohol, he thought blearily, he might not have had the stones to hold Macaque otherwise.

“Are you-” Macaque wriggled a bit, trying to make himself comfortable where Wukong had him pinned to the couch, “you’re kidding me.” Wukong tried not to focus too much on how much smaller Macaque was. The shadow had never been fragile, Wukong felt like the slender frame in his arms might break or fracture or disappear or- “I’m punching you about this in the morning,”

“M’kay,” Wukong said agreeably, wrapping his arms around Macaque and burrowing his face into soft, raven fur, “best punch of my life.” He let himself be lulled by the scent of incense and petrichor and resolved to deal with his more embarrassing emotions when the sun rose. “Missed this.”

Macaque sighed, letting his head rest against Wukong’s chest in defeat, “Can’t wait to hear how much you regret this tomorrow,” he said, “when we wake up sore from laying like this, I don’t wanna hear anything from you.” Wukong hummed in agreement, “And if you get all huffy and embarrassed about the cuddling, don’t blame me,” he added, “I tried getting you into your hammock.”

Wukong shushed Macaque, batting aimlessly at his scarf. “Embarrassed about nothin’,” he said, “finally got you right where I want you.” He yawned, jaw cracking with the force of it, “Besides, we agreed to blame the alcohol.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still gonna blame you,” Macaque scrubbed his face into Wukong’s chest, “I’m allowed. You killed me, remember? I get to blame you for whatever I want.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Wukong grouched. “This- that’s not a ‘funny haha’ joke, Mac, and you don’t get to make it.” Macaque gave an amused, knowing grunt, like he knew that Wukong knew there was no real  way of stopping him, “At least give it… I don’t know, two weeks or somethin’. Time to process. It’ll be easier to hear it.”

“Sure, Wukong,” Macaque yawned. It was familiar, Wukong thought distantly, almost like nothing had changed at all. Or everything had. Wukong was too tired and too content to think about it too hard, “Whatever you say.”

They were both losing their battles with consciousness and Wukong wanted to at least beat Macaque if he couldn’t win against his drooping eyelids. And he wanted the last word, for once, even if the thoughts behind it weren’t particularly put together. “Not like that,” he scolded Macaque, “don’t want this like that.” He shook his head at Macaque’s questioning hum. “I don’t want a… whatever you say,” he tried to elaborate, “I want it however we say.” A bit more sobering, he added, “I want you to get a say.”

Macaque hummed, letting his head fall back against Wukong’s chest, mumbling something that sounded like agreement. Maybe contentment. Maybe Macaque was just too tired to argue with him about it anymore. Maybe they were two tired old celestials that needed sleep, and Wukong didn’t need to think about it too hard–and couldn’t, finally letting his eyelids slip closed.

He imagined they’d both be a lot grumpier in the morning, Macaque especially, with his sensitive hearing, grousing over a cup of coffee and nursing a small hangover, and it’d probably be the best morning Wukong ever woke up to. It’d be everything he ever wanted, waking up on Flower Fruit Mountain with Macaque by his side–he’d wake up next to a grouch every day if it meant waking up to something real.

It wasn’t quite the picture of forever Wukong had painted all those centuries ago–they still had more questions than answers and years and years and years’ worth of issues to sort through–but it was more realistic, Wukong supposed, more tangible than the empty, picturesque promises he’d made to an agreeable, loyal warrior. A grumpy Macaque was one he could hold, at least, a suspicious Macaque was one he could grasp with both hands and never let go of, Macaque was Macaque, no matter what form he took.

He almost didn’t want to let sleep take him, just to savor the moment a little while longer. Tipsy and tired and standing at the beginnings of a brand new forever, Wukong couldn’t think of anything he’d wanted less than to fall asleep and miss a single moment he could be spending with Macaque.

But sleep took him, anyway, while he was distracted thinking about something or another–things changing and leaving and staying. The world was ever-evolving, but it still spun round and round and empires rose and fell and the tidal wave of the universe always, always brought back the things that were meant to be there; Macaque was back in his arms, almost like nothing had changed at all–almost, except for most things, but almost nothing, in the grand scheme of things.

The most important things always seemed to make their way back to him eventually, and Wukong supposed if he’d already waited a millennia to have Macaque back, then just waiting until morning couldn’t be all that bad.

[urfriendash]

tomorrows to-do list…

• write malibu rising review/post

• start history hw assignment

• book club newsletter

• check email for TA info

• rewrite science notes

8.31.23

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, welcome home

lando norris x wife!mom!reader

series masterlist

summary - your young family of three has now added another little piece of joy.

masterlist

-

the hospital lights shone as dim as they could get and cascaded along your tired, slumped body. you stared off towards the hum of monaco, out the window, taking in the peace that has overcome your mind. even though the next few months of juggling a newborn as well as a toddler would be difficult for your young family, the physical struggle was now over for yourself, and you and your husband had welcomed a lovely and healthy baby girl into your growing home. 

calmly coming into the world on a crisp december night, eleanor cisca norris, approached your lives bringing nothing but love and a little extra chaos. but ‘what would the norris family be without a small riot?’ your husband had ironically asked while you were soothing the crying baby for what felt like the hundredth time. having done this once before, your mom skills were at a high, swaddling game down, and breastfeeding locked in. your husband was also in his element, finally having his baby girl. 

you turned your attention away from the window and in the direction of the now two-time father, currently soaking in skin to skin time with his baby, sitting in the quietest corner of the room. she laid her peaceful head on his bare chest, sleeping soundly to the rhythm of his heartbeat. he spoke to her in the calm solace that he only reserved for you or finn, now adding little eleanor, or lola as he has elected to nickname her, to that list. you watch in awe, your heartrate picking up slightly as you feel yourself fall in love all over again with the man before your eyes, watching his gentle mannerisms that you had seen once before with finn in this exact hospital. he catches your eye, sending you a tired smile, and holding lola just a tiny bit tighter, as if once he lets go, she may slip away. 

your eyes are dry as you keep yourself from blinking, scared the moment will end if you do. as if he can read your mind, lando gives you a soft nod, telling you in your own telepathic language of love that, it’s alright, we’re here, get some sleep. 

one thing that he will never communicate without making sure that you hear it is whispered out as you begin to close your eyes, “i love you, y/n,”

“i love you too, lan,” you whisper back, as sleep and exhaustion win their battle against your mind and heart. 

the morning is brighter than normal, your baby girl now a whole day old, you and lando getting back into the swing of a newborn - having been woken up every two hours throughout the night - and yet the excitement stands. today was the day that finn would arrive at the hospital and get to meet his baby sister. 

you held lola in your arms, lando sitting next to you on the bed with one arm wrapped around the both of you. his other hand gently strokes your own arm, holding you close, and attempting to give you all of his appreciation in the world. 

“you did so good, love,” he whispers into your temple before placing a soft kiss there. 

“thank you, baby,” you sigh, exhaustion still hitting you, “when will finn be here?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the lovely lady in your arms.

“my dad said they’ll be here soon,” he whispers, eyes not leaving little lola either, “said finn was bouncin’ off the walls to come see us,” he chuckles.

“i believe that,” you laugh, “the little guy is so excited to meet her,”

as if lola could hear the conversation about her big brother, she begins to squirm in your arms, letting out a melody of baby gurgles as your husband and you swoon. lando begins to coo at the little girl as you turn to admire him instead. fatherhood always looked damn fine on him, and always will. a small knock on the door jolts the two of you out of your newborn babymoon, and instead towards lando’s parents and a sweet little boy wiggling around in his papa’s arms. 

“hi, bubs!” lando excitedly whispers as he removes himself from the bed and heads to his firstborn, taking him from his own father, “daddy missed you baby,” he giggles, kissing all over finn’s face.

“i miss you, daddy!” finn lets out between laughs as his father continues to kiss his entire face. cisca and adam eye the little girl in your arms and both ‘awe’ at the sight. they head over to you, and your eyes are already welling up at your firstborn son. 

“would you like to hold her?” you ask in the direction of the two parents, and adam steps slightly back as his wife nods her head.

“shouldn’t finn hold her first?” she asks tentatively, still reaching her arms out for the baby.

“i would prefer to hold him right now while you soak in some newborn time,” you laugh with the handoff between you two. she sighs at the sight of the small baby in her arms, wrapped in pink with a small bow hat adorning her head. adam wraps an arm around his wife as they smile, before he moves to take his own son in his arms, leading lando to plop finn on the bed and let him crawl towards you. 

“hi baby,” you sniffle as you hold him, emotions at an all time high.

“why you cry, momma?” finn asks loudly, leading your overprotective husband to snap his head towards you.

“i’m just so happy to see you, baby. momma missed you,” you let out a quiet sob along with a chuckle, lando coming over to kiss your forehead. 

“when will your parents be in, y/n?” adam asks you as he pulls you into a gentle hug of his own.

“they’re catching a flight tomorrow, should be at our house when we get back there,” you softly say, rocking finn in your arms as he cuddles into you, “they’re going to stay with us for about a week to help out a bit,”

“that’s good,” cisca sighs, still entranced by the newborn in her arms.

“do ya wanna know her name, mum?” lando quietly whispers, perching himself back on the bed to hold you and finn. she nods softly, carrying herself with such grace as she always does.

“eleanor cisca norris,” you let out as she snaps her head to the both of you. 

“oh my,” she sighs, “you two don’t know what that means to me,”

“you’ve beyond been there for me during this pregnancy and finn’s, it was only right,” you nod. she hands little lola over to adam and pulls you both into a hug as she tears up. 

“thank you, both,” 

“of course, mum,” lando sighs, tears pricking his eyes as well. 

“is it time for the little man to hold his baby sister?” adam asks, holding the baby out to you. you nod gently, rearranging the way finn was sitting on your lap in order for lola to be placed on top of him. cisca quietly records the interaction with her phone as adam sets her onto finn, lando opting to hold her head for him, and you hold onto her body to help.

“woah,” finn lets out as he gets a close look at her.

“what do ya think, bubs?” lando whispers, eyeing the little boy in your lap.

“she’s really small, daddy,” he laughs, letting the whole room let out giggles too.

“she is, buddy, that’s why you need to be gentle with her, okay?” lando teaches his son.

“i will, daddy,”

“i know you will, bubs,”

-

two days later and you have returned home, basking in the extra help of your parents and lando’s, along with the plethora of gift baskets that had been sent over from drivers and teams and friends. 

it was a calm evening, lando bouncing the quiet baby in his arms as your parents had retired to their guest room in order to catch up on jet leg. finn was playing around the living room under your supervision until the knock at your door had you moving. the little lightning bolt of a three year old had gotten there first, jumping up and down near the door - he knew exactly who was behind it.

“i wanna answer! i wanna answer!” he shouted with excited giggles.

you laughed in response while attempting to calm him, “okay, okay, but baby you need to remember baby sister is trying to sleep, alright? so let’s try and quietly welcome our guest,”

“otay, momma,” he lets out in a loud whisper as you giggle again, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let carlos and rebecca in. 

“hola, finn,” carlos laughs as your baby boy pounces on him, “and hello to you too, y/n, you look well,” 

“as good as i can do for still being in a diaper,” you all laugh as rebecca hugs you and you all head to the living room.

“aye, there she is,” carlos sighs at the sight of lando and lola, finn still clutching onto him. 

“finn, baby, get off uncle carlos so he can see your baby sister,” you softly tell the boy, finn immediately climbing down from him and over to rebecca as she scoops him up into her awaiting arms. 

lando exchanges the baby into his friend’s arms, looking on with love and care as he leads you over to the couch and wraps you in his own embrace. carlos and rebecca sitting on the couch across from you both, holding your two most precious gifts, and staring on in awe. lando squeezes you a little tighter, kisses your cheek, and lays your head to rest against him. 

“y’know mate, you look really good as a godfather,” your husband speaks up, causing the couple across from you to snap their heads up. 

“and you look beautiful as a godmother,” you add in rebecca’s direction. 

“what?!” they both respond with tears in their eyes, clearly ecstatic about the news, and obviously the perfect match to be elected. 

-

[escelia]

New Sibling Just Dropped

Or Danny gets willingly isekai'd into the DCU and gets a twin out of it.

I know I disappeared from the face of the earth for a bit there, and there's stuff I should probably be updating, but I come baring different stuff this time :D

Just started this for fun, and I have at least one other chapter of it done, but idk how long this bout of inspiration will last, so I'm just rolling with it for now.

@flamingpudding look! i pulled a jason todd and rose from the grave!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was tired. The kind of tired you felt behind your eyes and in your bones, and weighed heavy with achievement. He was perched on the edge of a building in his ghost form looking over Amity Park with a soft smile as he watched Youngblood run through the park with human children, Cujo playfully on their heels. His galaxy cloak (which had been a coronation gift) billowed around his lap like a gas with stars twinkling inside. 

It had been a few years now since he took up the Crown of Fire and became High King of the Infinite Realms, and while he had accomplished many things since then, graduating from high school wasn't something on that list. It sucked that he wouldn't get to walk across the stage with Sam and Tucker, but in the face of all he'd been able to do for both Amity and the Infinite Realms, it was worth it. They coexisted now. There was still trouble every now and then, but Danny had helped the ghosts who insisted on staying in Amity Park find a place in their city where they could thrive.

Youngblood watched over the children of the city, Box Ghost started a box recycling center, Lunch Lady started a program to get food to families that couldn't afford it, and Pointdexter started reporting bullying at the school since he was already there. 

On the Realms' side, Danny shut down Walker's prison. Since it was his lair, he couldn't take it away from him completely, but it no longer housed the many ghosts the warden had considered "rule breakers." He'd given Walker a new set of rules to enforce and essentially took him under his wing as a royal soldier, kept under the close watch of Fight Knight, who'd defected from Pariah Dark so fast after his defeat that it was laughable. 

He'd done something similar with Skulker, though he was a harder case to crack. Unlike Walker, who was happy as long as he had a set of rules to enforce, Skulker wanted to keep hunting. He'd been recruited forcefully by Walker and Fright Knight after they caught him on his way to fight Danny again.

All in all, everything had begun to run smoothly now. The fatigue weighing on him reminded him that it had been hard to accomplish, and continuing to lead his double life hadn't made it any less exhausting. A cold breath rushed through his chest as he felt a familiar presence slide up next to him. 

"You didn't time out," Danny pointed out without looking to face the ghost beside him. Clockwork hummed in acknowledgment.

"Sometimes it's pleasant to watch time flow in person." It was Danny's turn to hum at him. 

"How are you feeling?" The Ancient asked thoughtfully. The younger ghost tilted his head pensively. 

"It's hard to say. I'm tired, but I'm happy. And also sad..." he paused to gather his thoughts. "I feel like I've done everything I needed to."

But not everything he wanted to do. 

"Go on," Clockwork pressed. The teenager did turn his head now to make a face at his mentor. If the guy knew how he felt and what he was going to say, why would he say it out loud? But the other just arched a brow at him and waited.

"Fine," he pouted. "I've spent so much time and energy finding places for everyone here. The GIW are gone, my parents stopped hunting ghosts, Jazz got into the psychology program at Stanford, Sam and Tucker are graduating today... I helped make that happen, I know I did! But they're moving on without me. They're growing up and I don't feel like I am."  

'I don't feel like I'm ready.'

Danny stopped to take a breath and wipe away the icy tears gathering in his eyes. He felt stupid for crying over it. He was 17 for Ancients' sake! Jazz would have told him he grew up too fast, but he still felt like a child. He had no idea what he was doing! And yet! And yet... he felt...

"But you also feel ancient, right? Like you've been around too long and seen too much?" Clockwork said as though he were reading from a script. Danny sulked. Stupid time ghost with his dumb Time Stream TV or whatever. 

"Yeah..."

"All Ancients feel that way. Though you may be feeling unbalanced in more ways than one because of how young you died and the fact you are half human."

"What do you mean?" Danny turned his whole body to face him now, tucking his knees under his chin and circling his arms around them. His cloak moved with him in inky black wisps and settled around him again like clouds of galaxies. 

Clockworks form shifted to that of a child.

"You feel young because you died young. However, it is the nature of humans to grow and change. While you may have died at 14, your childhood died before that. You yearn to grow and learn, while also being an incredibly powerful Ancient."

He supposed that made sense. He recalled all the years cleaning the lab before the portal had even been built, and the fighting and neglect (Jazz's words, not his) that spawned his disdain of Christmas even longer before. He wanted to go back to school. He wanted a reason to love Christmas. He wanted pets and family dinners that didn't come alive. He wanted to grow up properly.

"But you still want to help people," the ghost said as though Danny had been talking out loud or having his mind read. 

"I hate it when you do that," Danny complained. Clockwork just smiled smugly.

"I know." He laughed at the glare Danny threw him. 

"I have a proposition for you," the older ghost began. Danny perked up in intrigue. "I know of another earth dimension with some problems that need to be addressed. Your role as High King puts you in a position to be helpful."

"Their problem has to do with the Realms?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Ectoplasm from the Realms is pooling into what are referred to on their planet as Lazarus Pits. They are both helpful and harmful as they do not dissipate into the air so they continually collect and concentrate emotion, but they do sometimes revive the dead."

Danny grimaced in disgust at the thought of dunking a person into a stagnant pool of contaminated ectoplasm. "That sounds disgusting."

"Quite," Clockwork agreed. 

"So what's your proposition?"

"Well, if it is agreeable to you, I would like to de-age your physical form and place you with a family that's had dealings with the Pits firsthand. I've found them to be quite charming." 

"Ah, so you want me to go in undercover?" Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. It wasn't a half bad idea. He could try his hand at childhood again and still get to handle his duties as King Phantom. Leading a double life again would be easy enough, it was just stepping from one role into another. 

"Not at all." Clockwork smiled knowingly. Danny was officially suspicious of his ghost guardian. "This planet has had all kinds of dealings with the occult, and even humans with superpowers isn't that unusual. While I would advise against telling anyone you are a king right away, you are in fact just that: a king. You may do what you wish." 

For an ancient and wise time ghost, Danny thought Clockwork was really shit at hiding his expressions. Though he tried to keep the grin off his face, Danny could clearly see the twitching of his lips and gleam in his eyes that promised the old man was scheming. 

But to get his childhood back. Or, at least a semblance of one... it deserved consideration. Danny looked back out at the cityscape again. Sam and Tucker... they were down there graduating from high school without him. He'd been the one to encourage them to pull away from Team Phantom activities to zero in on their studies, but he didn't regret it. Sam wanted to major in environmental science and Tucker wanted to go to MIT and he just didn't fit into those plans. After Jazz left for Stanford, his parents often forgot he was still there. He'd managed to convince them to study ghosts properly instead of hunting them, and with a little help from the "friendly ghost King Phantom" they were given a place to start. They dove into their research with the same excitement and fervor they'd had all their lives. Which of course meant he went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing them emerge from the lab. It was easy enough to slip past them to the portal while they were distracted. 

The point was that he'd started to feel his anchor to this city, to this realm, start to dissipate as the people who kept him there started to break away from him. He still loved them, wanted to protect them, but they were safe and happy now. He felt fulfilled in his task of protecting them, but there was a buzzing beneath his skin to do more. 

Danny took a deep and controlled breath. He didn't need it in his ghost form, but it felt good to feel his lungs stretch to fullness. 

"When would I start?" He asked finally. The straight face Clockwork had been trying to keep, and he really was so bad at it, finally broke into a wide grin. 

"Right now. Everything is already in place and your duties in the Realms will be taken care of in your absence." 

Danny smiled softly at his guardian. Clockwork sure had a funny way of showing it, but he cared so deeply for the boy next to him that when Danny responded with a bad pun, he couldn't even be annoyed. 

"Well, no time like the present!" He winked.

Clockwork chuckled, and with a flash of light, he sent Danny on his way. 

The more time the older ghost spent with his young ward, the more he appreciated him. The Danny he’d come to know was nothing like the Danny’s from other worlds he’d encountered while trying to prevent Dan from existing. His Danny was now truly one of a kind. None of the others, not even the ones that eventually turned into Dan, had been Ancients. There would never be another Danny like him, and every universe was adjusting to include him should he ever decide to visit them. He had a place in any world, should he choose, but Clockwork knew he was needed most in the one he’d sent him to. It would be truly entertaining to watch the young Ancient settle into his role there, and Clockwork was actually finding himself looking forward to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark and quiet a long while before Danny opened his eyes. And when he did open them it got really loud and really bright really fast. It belatedly occurred to him that he should have asked like a billion more questions before agreeing to be iseaki’d into a different dimension to join a family he knew literally nothing about. 

There was shouting before someone in what looked like a ninja cult uniform shoved a knife into his hand and pushed him in the path of a person in a different uniform. The man in front of him was dressed in blue and black and wearing a mask that covered his eyes, but Danny could see the surprised shape of his mouth before it morphed into something like anger. And then he was being lunged at.

He shrieked as he dodged out of the way. Not his most graceful save, but whatever. His voice was a bit shrill and his center of gravity felt way off. He must have actually been de-aged! He wondered how old he was now. He still felt light on his feet thanks to his ghost half which felt blessedly intact. But the other guy was fast and he ducked into a roll just in time to dodge whatever weapon he was holding. This guy meant business, but he had no idea why he was trying to kill him. 

‘Great, thanks Grandfather Clock for throwing me right back into the good ol’ days,’ he thought sarcastically. Nobody had attacked him for no good reason like that since Walker and Fright caught Skulker mid hunt for the very last time. 

What he now saw was a baton swung down from overhead and Danny knew he wouldn't dodge it in time, so he caught it with the flat of the blade that had been shoved into his hands.

“Wait! Why are we fighting?” Danny yelled, panicked as the guy pushed more force into it. The man's face twisted into something like confusion for a moment and he backed off just the tiniest bit before the scuffing of shoes to his right had him looking over just in time to see another guy in a mask, this time in red, rushing at him. He threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait!” He shrieked before he was absolutely bodied sideways into the ground. 

Why was he doing this? He was half ghost, he could have just gone intangible and disappeared. He didn't have to be body slammed into the ground. Wasn't he a child now? Did that guy in red actually just slam a whole child into the ground? 

“Red, hold on! This one's different!” 

“What do you mean?” The guy Red asked. He was still pinning Danny to the ground.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Danny asked breathlessly, then whimpered, “Someone please tell me what's going on!” 

The one hovering over him must have seen something on his face that convinced him to not try and kill him anymore, because he grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him along. 

“We'll take him in for questioning. Don't let Robin see him.”

“Who's Robin?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long, arduous, and confusing journey from wherever they were to… well, wherever they were now. They'd blindfolded him for the transport so he still had no idea what was going on. He had learned that the guy with batons was Nightwing, and Red was actually Red Robin. The one they called Robin was a feral looking thing with swords, he was very small and stabby. Then there was Batman, and he totally threw off the whole bird theme but was easily the most intimidating. And that was all he knew so far. He'd been restrained at an interrogation table. 

Danny groaned and knocked his forehead onto the table. He really, really wished he'd asked Clockwork more questions. He'd at least been able to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass behind Batman. He looked like he was eleven or twelve again, which was not as young as he'd been expecting, but much more preferable than being a literal toddler. The group of people he’d been brought in by seemed to be heroes. They were all incredibly weary of him, but hadn’t gone out of their way to harm him since his capture. Though it was hard to call it a capture when there wasn’t a chase involved. 

“How old are you?” Batman asked suddenly. His voice was low and rough and somehow Danny could tell it didn't sound like that naturally. 

“Um, maybe eleven or twelve?” Danny replied carefully, picking up his head from the table and having the decency to look a little embarrassed. 

“And what's your name?” He looked like he was expecting something.

“My name is Danny, sir.” 

“Hmm…” 

It was quiet and awkward for a long moment.

“Why are you different from the other clones?” 

“Yeeeaaah, I'm not a clone.” Danny absolutely did not jump when the brute slammed the file folder shut in front of him. 

“We'll see what your DNA results have to say about that,” he said confidently before turning to leave, his cape dramatically flaring out behind him.

Sheesh, and he thought he’d had a flair for the dramatics.

‘Okay, time for some assessment,’ Danny thought to himself as he looked around the small closed room. It was soundproofed incredibly well. While he didn’t have super crazy hearing, it was enhanced by his ghost half, and combined with his other sharp senses, it tended to help him gather more information than others could. The most he could hear outside the room was a quiet hum of activity and nothing discernible. Still, he needed to decide how much he would say to these people. How much truth did he want to weave into his tale? These people clearly already had their own assumptions about him in mind, and while there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a clone, he knew he didn’t have what it took to keep up an act like that for long, which would just end up being awkward for everyone. 

He also would not be telling them about his status as Ghost King, per Clockwork’s suggestion. His captors seemed like the uptight sort, and revealing that he was a big, scary ghost monarch didn’t seem like it’d go over well. Telling them he was a halfa would probably get them off his back over the clone thing, at least. He went over the list in his head.

He was a halfa from another dimension, so he couldn’t be a clone.

He had no plans of fighting with anyone unless absolutely necessary. 

He did not have a way back to his other dimension. 

His name was Danny, and he didn’t have a family anymore.

He did not know why he was in the middle of whatever fight he woke up in. 

No, he didn’t know those people.

Danny must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while because his thoughts were interrupted by Batman bursting back through the door. The man’s demeanor had changed completely and he whipped off his cowl to reveal disheveled dark hair, blue eyes, and an expression of absolute heartbreak that accompanied his shuddering breaths. With the mask off, he reminded Danny a lot of his father. 

Batman searched his face and, much like Red Robin had before, seemed to notice something there. 

“She did it twice,” he muttered to himself. “Two of them this whole time and she didn’t tell me about either of them,” he said through gritted teeth. His frown deepened. Danny copied his frown. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

He still had no idea what was going on.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕?*

Paring: Chan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Creampie, (P in V), dirty talk, use of princess, Oral (F), sorry if I missed any, not proofread so sorry for any mistakes

This was requested from my prompt list 6: “you weren’t supposed to hear that”

A/N: I’m sorry if this is all over the place. I haven’t had time to even think *Sigh* so I’m sorry if it’s not my best.

-🖤

Working late today, you just felt so exhausted from the long shift. Feeling tired and stressed you were honestly ready to scream. You were gonna head home but your friend’s place was a lot closer, You stayed there often especially after late shifts. You didn’t think he’d mind, he was probably still awake anyways. You shot him a message about crashing there but he never responded. You figured he was just working on something. When you go to his place you knocked before reaching for the space key he had given you.

Opening the door it was pretty quiet surprisingly. Normally there was at least music playing but nothing. You stayed quiet thinking he was probably just asleep. Making your way to the spare bedroom you placed your stuff down heading to the bathroom. You started to wash your face when you heard a noise. You tilted your head thinking you heard Chan call for you. The silence was so loud though, thinking you were going crazy you wiped your face.

Making your way back to the room you heard your name again, this time you really heard it. It sounded soft and then again this time mixed with noises and then you heard it “fuck y/n you feel so good.” Hearing this made your stomach flip. A knot in it slowly building as you walked towards his room. The door was half way open, peering in you saw him. He was bent over a pillow fully naked as he was thrusting into the makeshift ‘body’ he had made. You knew you shouldn’t be watching, you’d be mortified if he’d see you but god- did he look good.

His toned body glistening with sweat as moans and groans left his mouth. His movements were everywhere as he pushed himself in and out of the pillow. He gripped it tightly head falling backwards “fuck y/n I wanna fill you- ah- ah fuck need you wrapped around me” his words pour out like a faucet. “Y/n fuck- y/n” he moaned. The scene in front of you was turning you on more than you’d like to admit. Chans been your friend for a while now but he was definitely hot no doubt about it.

That smile of his alone made you weak but hearing him like this just- made a pool in your panties. He started moving not wanting to be found out as a creeper you quickly moved to the side. Nothing could have prepared you for the sweet noise you were about to hear “y/n! Fuck! Ah- cu-cuming!” The low groan he left out followed by moans and whimpers as he came. You stood there almost drooling over how hot he sounded. So many thoughts were swirling in your head that you didn’t hear him walking towards the door.

As he walked out he looked over at you, doing a double take trying to figure if he was tripping. “How long have you been- here?” He said his voice a bit shaky. You couldn’t think straight not after hearing what you did. Not only that but he was now standing infront of you fully naked. His cock slightly still hard, his body red glistening with sweat. “I uhm-“ you stuttered out eyes glancing over him.

“Y/n- I- how much did you hear?” He said his eyes burning a hole into you. “Well I” your words just wouldn’t come out. Everything just getting stuck like a cat actually had your tongue. “Fuck- you weren’t supposed to hear any of that- I mean obviously.. I didn’t know you were coming- I’m sorry- I hope you don’t think I’m weird. It’s just-“ he sighed. “You’re so- pretty and you always pop in my mind when I’m doing this and- and I can’t help it” he continues to ramble.

As he’s talking about it you could see his cock twitching like, being caught or telling you about it was turning him on again. You subconsciously rubbed your legs together, feeling hornier than you ever have. “Why didn’t you just ask for my help?” Your words came out without you even thinking about it. His eyes widened “are- are you serious?” He asked. “I- uhm I yes I’m serious” you stuttered out, eyes meeting for the first time. Without a second of thought he pulled you to him lips crashing into yours. His tongue found its way into your mouth his hands came down wrapping around your waist. He picked you up wrapping your legs around him making you squeal. He chuckled before chasing after your lips once again.

As he laid you down his hands frantically wondered your body. Finding their way to your pants he quickly pulled them down, his hands came under your legs lifting them up. He pressed himself between you his cock pressing against your folds, The contact making you both moan. He moved his hips his cock head coming up to press against your clit. His lips were making their way down to your neck sucking harshly at the skin. Both of you were desperate “Chan- please” you begged breathily hands pulling him to you.

He didn’t even hesitate before letting himself slip into you. Hands gripping tightly to him desperate for more contact. He didn’t move right away the feeling too good for him already. He must have been still for to long though, because you started to whine “move” you said softly. He looked down at you with the most fucked out face as he started to move slowly. He was so lost in the feeling of you, so drunk off of you he bottomed out almost immediately. His cock head kissing your cervix ever so perfectly.

“God you feel even better than I expected” he moaned. His movement were all over the place. He leaned down to you kissing you sloppily his tongue lapping at yours teeth biting at your bottom lip. His hands griped onto your legs desperately trying to find something to anchor him. He felt like he was in a dream, just minutes before he was getting off to the thought of you. Now he’s getting off with you, with him deep inside you. Your body felt addicting, he craved it needed it or he possible might die. “Y/n fuck I’m-“ he started to say his head falling back.

“Cum for me Chris, fuck- please” you say but he shook his head “n-no i wanna savor this moment. Need it to last longer.” He said before pulling out before you could even protest at the loss of him he was going down your body. His lips attached to your wet cunt like some hungry animal. He was fucking you with his tongue his fingers playing with your clit. Your body arched at the feeling moaning his name as you gripped at his hair. “Fuck!” Is all you could get out as he switched. Fingers now pumping into as he sucked harshly at your clit. “Cum for me- please I wanna taste every bit of you.” He said his words coming out like a plea.

He sped his movements up biting softly at your sensitive nub, you uncontrollably started to move your hips. Bucking them grinding into his tongue as you chased your high. “That’s it baby cum for me, fuck cum for princess” he said feeling you clench around his fingers. You came hard, harder than you ever have before. Pulling his hair hard almost screaming his name as your body levitated from the mattress. He continued through your high before quickly coming up to you. He leaned his head against yours eyes looking into each others.

He guided himself into you once again cock moving in and out, he watched as your face contorted in pleasure. Becoming sensitive from just cumming you felt a bigger knot in your stomach. It was already building once again as each thrust hit your g-spot. “Fuck- you feel so good. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I’ve wanted you. Fuck y/n! Fuck! Fuck!” He groaned out sitting up gripping your hips as he pushed deeper into you. His hand came down to play with your clit, thrust becoming sloppier. As you looked up at him the view was magnificent, his eyes were glossed over, lips swollen and mouth half open.

“I’m so fucking close y/n” he breathed out “Chris- c- cum inside” you moaned. The look on his face was everything, a mixture of shock and pure ecstasy “Yeah? I can? Really?” He said in disbelief. You nod yes making him groan. He leaned his body down laying it against yours head in the crook of your neck. He started to thrust sloppier into you his hand on your clit moving frantically. “I’m gonna fill you full, gonna fill this pretty pussy so full it only wants me” he said against your ear. “Y/n you’re all mine ok? Please I need you to be all mine” he babbled on.

He leaned up looking into your eyes “tell me please- say it” he said eyes locked on you. “Chris- I’m all yours. Only yours.” And with those words it pushed him over the edge his body was stuttering inside you cuming deep as he let out moans and curses. As he came the feeling of it mixed with the feeling of him playing with your abused clit made you cum. Something you didn’t expect though as you came it felt different, until you heard him groan even more “princess- fuck squirting all over me?” He said his voice shaky.

No one has ever been able to make you squirt but here you were covered in your mess, it covering Chans body. “Y/n did you really mean it? Are you all mine?” He said moving to look at you again. “Yes, I’d love to be all yours.” He smiled widely kissing you lovingly. You two stayed cuddled into each other for a few before Chan broke the silence. “Let’s go shower yeah?” You nodded “if I can walk” your comment making you both burst out laughing.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[navybrat817]

Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[tammyu-2]

hii can i request tmnt 2012 donnie meeting reader for the first time while the ninjas were at on a mission because she caught them while walking home and him js like falls in love on sight and his brothers tease him ☺️☺️☺️☺️

AHH THIS IS SO CUTE OFC

TMNT 2012 DONNIE FALLS FOR YOU AT FIRST SIGHT

There is no usage of y/n, swearing, female pronouns, awkward,Donnie being in love, and yeah, that's it.

A lil info on me, Leo and Donnie, are my favs

It had been a long ass day for you, to be honest. After all the long hours that occupied you, you were ready to pass out the second you walked into your apartment.

It just so happened that the turtles were fighting the kraang at the same time. In the same area. What a coincidence... even more of a coincidence that you walled right into the battlefield, too tired to even look up as you walked right through it.

The kraang are literal villians ofc they are gonna shoot you. So while you were too occupied looking like the burgains from the movie trolls 1 a kraang saw you and had to get rid of all witnesses. Luckily for you, a certain purple turtle scooped you up and dropped you on top of a building.

Naturally, you are confused. Not only by the fact that you just so quickly got onto the top of a building but the fact that a tall humanoid turtle had saved you. But tbh you read weird shit so it's not that much of a surprise. You looked up at your savior, and your gazes locked.

Now Donnie boy over here has a completely different mindset. Bc Holy shit your so pretty??? He is BLUSHING trust. Bc your hair is swaying from the wind while the moon light makes your eye shimmer. It was like you had made this man putty just by looking at him. Wait, is he staring??

He quickly goes to clear his throat, noting that he had indeed been staring too freakishly long. He doesn't wanna look too weird than he already is.

"Are you alright?"

"What are you-"

YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT. WHAT IF ITS OFFENSIVE TO THEIR KIND DUMBASS.

"I mean not to be rude, you know - I'm just wondering cause you know I've never seen anything like you - but not in a bad way. It's just that- you know you're like a walking talking fighting turtle, and that's freakishly weird - not freakishly weird! it's just - I'm gonna stop talking now.."

You have just insulted a man's (or should I say turtles) existence just by saying two sentences to this ...guy? Congrats.

You felt guilty till you heard him chuckle a bit at your word vomit. You didn't even know you were closing your eyes for anything after that till you opened them to see the turtle smiling dorkishly at you.

"It's fine I get that alot. I'm-"

He paused. Since he should be a secret, should he really tell you his name? May swell tell you the secret turtle base as well, seeing as though you're a cute stranger.

"-just glad your safe."

"Thanks to you. You saved my life."

The sincerity in your voice made his smile grow. You're not running away or screaming or looking away in disgust. It's like you saw him. Like really saw him. That or he is just delulu

"I- you know it's really no b-big deal.."

Smooth.

"It is to me."

"YO DONNIE STOP FLIRTING AND COME HELP OUR ASSES OVER HEAR!"

[If raph could swear he would do it all the time trust me]

Turns out during that awkward exchange, the turtles were yelling at Donnie to help them. Woops. He straightened and sent a scowl to raph. He turned to you, giving you a sheepish grin.

"I uh gotta go.."

"It's cool go do your ninja stuff."

Today might be the day he starts a diary. He waves you goodbye and jumps down into battle.

Huh. Finding a humanoid turtle was not on your to-do list, but you're expecting it. He seemed nice enough... After that, thought another popped up that made you groan. You're trapped on a flipping building.

Once the kraang escaped and the turtles all unloaded into the living room of the liar all tired. Now was time for questioning.

"What the hell was that, Don? You left us to go ask for a chick's number. Meanwhile, we were getting our asses handed to us. And by we, I mean Mikey.

He said, earning an offended 'hey!' from said turtle.

"Yeah you were up there for a while..."

"I was just checking on a civilian that got caught in the crossfire of our fight."

He said back matter a factly. Earning (non-existent) eye brow raises from his brother.

"Dude, you totally like her!"

"Wha- I mean- no- what??"

He spluttered, trying to defend himself, but nothing can convince his brothers otherwise.

"Awe, how cute Don likes someone that isn't April."

"I think so but seriously, not in the middle of a mission."

"DONNIE LIKES A GIRLLL DONNIE LIKES A GIRLLL!"

Please let the earth swallow him up right now.

So as the days went by you two met up a second time and decided to casually meet up a third. You became a trusted friend to him and the turtles. That only made the teasing worse. Such as making kissy faces at Donnie while your back was turned. Making teasing remarks here and there about how long Donnie is taking to pursue you.

Even Splinter lightly jokes about how he approves of you already. And let's be honest. He has a whole wall covered in solutions on how to set up the perfect plan to help him get with you. He always covers it when you come around.

The difference between you and April is that you actually are starting to like him to. You love when he explains stuff you can't understand and how he treats you like a literal princess but knows you can handle yourself. He makes cute gadgets here and there to help you with your every day life and all of this is making him grow on you and you honestly secretly blush too at the teasings of his brothers. But only they can catch that. Donnie is clueless.

Chat what we thinking? I actually really like this. It's so cute I adore this. I love this ask that you so much!!!!!

But yeah, enjoy

~Tammy<3

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part One)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: lots of wade in this one but no wolverine just yet!

tag list: @allmyn1ghts, @oscarissac2099

Masterlist//Next Chapter

Not Ok

Flashes of images invaded your mind. You were in a tank, arms restrained to your sides as the oxygen was slowly sucked out of the chamber, suffocating you. Your nails digging into the leather cushioning beneath you as you try to claw your way out.

Now you were strapped to a table, an array of needles embedded into your arms and legs as you were injected painfully with all kinds of different things you weren’t even sure of.

You startled awake before the sound of your alarm had a chance to rouse you from your sleep. Groggily you run a shaky hand over your face before rolling over to grab your phone checking the time. You still had about 3 hours before it was time to get up and get ready for work. Knowing you most likely weren’t going to go back to sleep, not that you wanted to anyways, you toss the covers off of you and head to the bathroom.

You turn the water of the shower on, waiting for it to heat up as you stand back up you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance you sigh as you lean over the sink.

There’s visible dark circles under your eyes from being torn from sleep countless times over the last few months. You were sure why the nightmares had started back up again, it had been years since you had been freed from the Weapon X program so why was it all coming back now?

Pulling your tank top over your head you quickly undressed and hopped into the shower. The water cascaded over you, the warmth a welcome relief. You closed your eyes, as you felt your tired muscles slowly start to relax under the soothing spray. Lathering up your soap on a loofa you quickly washed and dried yourself putting on ample amounts of makeup to hide your dark circles.

Once dressed you sat down at your little table in the kitchen and helped yourself to a bowl of cereal as you checked your phone again.

So much shit was happening in the world, genocides, corrupt politicians running for power, starving children. It was all you saw anytime you opened up anything and it was all too much. The world was going to complete shit

You lock your phone and check the time, you still had about an hour before work. Slipping on your shoes you grab your keys and your bag and head out the door nearly bumping into Wade who was munching on a bagel in the hallway.

“Jesus fuck Wade!” You said placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

“My bad pookie bear. Didn’t know you worked today.” He said with a shrug adjusting his wig as he did so.

“Almost every day this week.” You said with a sigh rubbing a hand down your tired face. You had been doing that a lot lately. “God I’m so tired.”

“I hear OnlyFans is really popping off right now.”Wade said but it was hard to tell if he was joking or not with his straight face.

“Yeah? So what, you and Vanessa can be my only subscribers?” You snorted with an exaggerated laugh.

“I know for a fact Colossus would pay top dollar for a sneak peak of your toes!”

The sound of your ex's name made you grimace. Not that you had any ill will towards him, you were both still good friends albeit a bit awkward now that you’ve dated for a short time, but you still didn’t want the thought of him anyway near anything sexual you did.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Wade said taking another bite from his bagel and you two walked down the hall together.

You start to rub at your forehead as you felt a headache coming on as you walked, another occurrence that had started to happen more and more often.

“More nightmares?” Wade asks, his voice laced with concern as he watched you.

“Yeah…but don’t worry about it Wade.” You could handle yourself, a few ibuprofen and you’d be fine.

He calls your name, as if to say it’s too late not to be worried about you, but you wave him off as you dig around in your backpack for a second before pulling out a small black envelope.

“Happy birthday by the way! You’re hard as fuck to shop for so I hope you like it.” You smile at him as you hold out the gift hoping to change the subject.

With an exaggerated gasp Wade tosses his bagel behind him and holds up his hands up in surprise before taking the envelope from you, and ripping it open. Inside were two tickets to a Celine Dion concert, one of his favorite artists.

“Oh my-!” He starts with a gasp “I didn’t even know she was touring!” He cried excitedly as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“Yeah I had to basically stalk Ticketmaster for those so you’re welcome.” You said returning the hug.

“Sugar booger! I love it!” He said releasing you.

“Now you just gotta figure out who to take with you.” You said as you bump shoulders with him. “Maybe Peter….oooor I don’t know maybe a certain someone we all know and love who works at a particular strip club that we like to visit on occasion?”

“Peanut…” Wade warned, you held up your hands in surrender. It was like a kid trying to get their divorced parents back together.

“Look, all I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

“I’ll think about it.” He says quietly as he stares out deep in thought.

With that the two of you part ways, wishing each other a good day at work, Wade heading for his bike where Peter was waiting and waving at you, and you heading toward the bus stop.

Work at the pet shop was the same as always, mundane and mind numbing but it paid the rent so who were you to complain about it. You had your fair share of zooted teens coming in to ask dumbass questions and waste your time as well as the occasional fish snob who complained about the size of your tanks but all of that was typical of a normal day and honestly made it go by quicker. By the time you realized what time it was it was time to clock out and head on home to help set up for Wade’s surprise party.

Once home you dropped off your bag and changed your clothes putting on a loose fitted t-shirt and jeans with a cardigan before heading over to Wade’s place with a bunch of drinks. You didn’t drink much but everytime Wade went out on a “business trip”, as he called them, back in his Deadpool days he’d bring you back a bottle of something.

Inside Wade and Blind Al’s apartment across the hall, many of your mutual friends were already busy at work setting up for the party. Colossus Ellie and Yukio were busy blowing up balloons and decorating while Dopinder Buck and Vanessa were busy setting up the food spread.

Looking around yourself you felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips, all around you were the people you and Wade loved the most and you were incredibly lucky to have them in your lives after everything you all had been through over the years. A pang in your chest made you hold a hand over it and your smile dropped. Something still felt missing though and no matter how hard you thought about it you just couldn’t place what it was.

“How you doing sweetheart?” A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. Whipping around you were pulled into a tight hug by Blind Al.

“I’m doing alright.” You smiled weakly “How’d you know it was me?”

“I’m blind not deaf sweetheart,” she said “ain’t nobody else here sighing that hard but you and Wade and Wade’s not here yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Your dreams still giving you trouble?” She asks as she leads you further into the home.

“I wouldn’t say dreams, more like night terrors but yeah they are a little.” You say as you place the bag said booze you bought on the kitchen counter and follow Al to the living room where she seated herself comfortably in her recliner. “It’s nothing to worry about though.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter baby.”

For someone who was blind Al sure could see right through you sometimes.

“I’m probably just stressed is all.” You try to downplay the situation but Al wasn’t having it.

“It’s been months.” She says matter of factly.

“It’s been a stressful few months.”

“Look… I may not have been there when you and Wade went through what you went through in that program but it’s over now. It’s done and that Ajax guy can’t hurt you anymore.” She said resting a hand in her arm gently.

Al hadn’t been a part of the Weapon X program like you and Wade had been but that hadn’t stopped him from telling her in excruciating detail about all the horrible shit you both had gone through during it.

“I know Al I just-“ you start but stop not fully knowing how to describe what you felt. “I just wish I could switch my brain off, just hit the reset button and be done with it but I- can’t get the memories outta my head.”

“I know sweetheart it’s gonna take time but time ain’t gonna do shit if you don’t let people in to help you.”

You knew she was right but you’d be damned if you’d admit it out loud.

“When did this turn into a therapy session? I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“Smart ass.” She said tapping you on the leg with her cane. “Go help Vanessa make the jungle juice before he gets home. I’m gonna go see if that dumbass has any Bolivian marching powder left in his stash.” With that she stood to her feet and went to her’s and Wade’s shared bedroom

“Oh Al come on! I thought you guys were done with that.” You called after her with a frown.

“Not till I’m dead babygirl.” She called back and if she could you think she’d wink at you.

Back in the kitchen you and Vanessa make quick work mixing and setting up the drink you bought making light conversation as you do so.

“So-“ she starts off but pauses as if deep in thought for a moment.

“So?” You ask curiously as you take a sip of the alcoholic punch taste testing to see if it needed anything.

“You uh seeing anybody new yet?” She asks.

You nearly choke on your drink in surprise.

“N-no I uh no I’m not.” You stuttered trying to compose yourself. “Are you?”

“Y-yeah there’s this guy. I met him at work, he’s kind.”

You could tell she was lying, but didn’t speak on it.

“Y’know, I hear Colossus has been talking about you to Ellie a lot lately.”

Here we go again you thought.

“Oh nah hard pass we tried that dance already didn’t really work out.” You waved her off, but she continued anyway.

“I’m just saying he’s a nice guy, and he’s big, like everywhere, and made of metal, that’s like totally your thing. Remember when we saw the Winter Soldier and you wouldn’t shut up about Bucky’s metal arm?”

Not she was calling you out.

“Just think about it hun, you're always stuck up in your apartment or at work, you’re lonely and I think a little human connection would do you some good.”

“Yeah alright I’ll think about it.” She smiles at you before caressing your cheek, like she was the big sister you never knew you had.

“But only if you think about giving Wade another chance too.” You slip in “Deal?”

She contemplates for a moment before she smiles back at you again. You knew she still had feelings for the man and so did he.

“Deal.”

Before either of you could change the topic of your conversation the front door opened up again, this time revealing Peter and Wade.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted as Dopinder Ellie and Yukio threw confetti into the air.

“Oh you guys!” Wade gasps dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m not armed!”

“If this was five years ago you’d all be dead.” He laughed as he went around hugging everyone.

The party went on without a hitch. Wade intermingling with everyone as he was passed around the room. You stayed in your own little corner as you watched sipping on your third drink for the evening. Parties weren’t really your thing but for Wade you’d endure them when you had to. Just as you were about to move to get yourself another drink you spotted Wade and Vanessa talking quietly amongst themselves in the kitchen hovering over the punch bowl. With a smile just glad they were finally talking to each other you thought it better not to disturb them for the time being.

Soon after however you all found yourselves piling into the kitchen as Wade called for everyone to come and cut the cake. Wade snapped a few pictures on Yukio’s Polaroid, making some cheesy speech about how lucky he was to be surrounded each and every person he ever loved in one room, something you rolled your eyes at even though you had found yourself thinking the same thing just earlier, before going to make a wish blowing out his birthday candles as he did so.

The party continued to progress throughout the night and the stuffiness of all the bodies in the room was starting to get to you. Excusing yourself from conversing with Buck and Peter you step out into the hallway for a moment to try and get some air. Your head felt like it was swimming, probably from all the alcohol and not enough food, and you were starting to feel nauseated as a pounding sound hammered through your skull. Eventually you decided to take a step outside to get some actual air to see if that would help.

After a handful of greedy gulps of the fresh night air you finally decide to return to the party before anyone came looking for you. Once inside your hallway you spotted Wade first, but he wasn’t alone this time. Surrounding him were at least 5 guys all dressed in black body armor and masks with weird electrical looking batons in their grasps. Immediately your defenses rose as you silently crept up behind them.

“Oh peanut, you came back! I’d offer to let you join in on the orgy but I don’t think this guy here’s down for sharing me.” Wade quips as he sucks on a breath mint leaning on his doorway. His comment drew most of the men’s attention towards you but not before he drew it back to himself. It seemed that they could care less that you were even there. “He’s got this whole hate sex, love 'em and leave' em vibe going for him right now.”

“Shut your mouth clown!” The guy in the front snaps as he goes to grab Wade by his toupee. Just as he grabs it an orange doorway opens up behind Wade and a pair of arms reach out pulling him inside causing his hair system to get ripped off.

“Wade!” You shout as you sprung into action, using all your weight you shove two of the guys causing the three of you to fall through the strange orange doorway just before it closed behind you.

[iluvmattsbeard]

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

a/n: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine.

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity!

[keyotos]

may i request how blade, gepard, welt, jing yuan and dan heng react to the “what are we?” question (also if you could add a little bit of yanqing and jing yuan father/son dynamic in jing yuan’s part? 😭😭

feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired tho. anyways, luv your works !! <333

the things we do

summary ⎯ late nights, lingering touches, longing looks. it just confuses you. this prompts you to ask the question that usually leads to the downfalls of most relationships: what are we?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, welt, & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i got so excited when i saw this. there's no angst in this btw

dan heng

⎯ dan heng didn't know what you guys were. but if he said that he treated you the same way he would treat march and stelle, that would be a lie.

⎯ yes, he was friendly towards you. but there were things he'd only allow when it came to you. things such as allowing you in his room during late hours; borrowing (stealing) one of his books; distracting him; the list goes on

⎯ so maybe you guys weren't just friends. but if you weren't friends, then what were you?

⎯ dan heng recognizes that there is at least something between you two. sometimes while reading one of his books, you'd lean into him a little too close: closer than friends should be, but farther than two people who are together. it was like there was a wall between the both of you that kept you in the middle ground.

⎯ dan heng realizes that you two may have crossed that line on a cold night.

“dan heng?” you mumble as you felt a dip in your mattress.

“how’d you know it was me?” he mumbled back, breath fanning on your neck. he had his arms wrapped around your stomach, slightly pulling you closer.

it was a stupid question to ask. how could you have not known it was him? you’ve felt the brush of his hands against yours one too many times; felt the way his hands have held onto yours for seconds too long. had he not realized?

“who else would sneak into my room this late at night?” you tensed against dan heng.

⎯ it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep near each other. but that’s the thing: you fell asleep near each other, not next to each other. and especially not falling asleep whilst wrapping their arms around the other person!?!?!?

⎯ dan heng didn’t know what had prompted him to come into your room that night. he didn’t know what had came over him. that night, it was cold and you weren’t in his room with him. so, in a tired dazed, he thought it was completely normal to abandon his room to come cuddle in yours.

⎯ key word: normal. it was normal to be around you. it was normal to want to be around you all the time. it was normal to want to wrap his arms around you and burrow himself in the nape of your neck. it was normal to want to (perhaps) place a chaste kiss on your neck.

⎯ and that’s when dan heng finally realized: that is not normal and he is in love. but he wasn’t going to bring it up. nooooo. no, because it would never work. right?

it was another late night. this time, dan heng was sitting on his bed while reading. he was relaxed today while you could not stop moving. today was the day where you were going to ask the infamous question: what are we?

⎯ it shouldn’t be so scary, but when dan heng and your feelings are involved, it seems as such.

“dan heng,” you ask, looking at the ground, “what are we?”

⎯ dan heng, taken aback, immediately slams his book shut and places his full attention onto you.

“what do you mean?” dan heng gets up and moves closer to you. dan heng already has an answer to his question.

“what are we doing?” you turn, refusing to look at him. “friends don’t do what we do.”

“we are friends,” dan heng places his hand upon yours, it brings you a feeling you’ve grown to familiarize with. “but," he pauses, carefully choosing the next words that come out of his mouth, "we can be more. only if you want," he interlocks your fingers together, holding them close to his side.

dan heng doesn't miss the smile you're trying to bite down as he leans into your touch. when dan heng leads you to the ground to continue reading, you had to physically stop yourself from bursting out in a (embarrassingly large) grin.

gepard

⎯ gepard hadn't put what thought into what the two of you were until tonight. what were you two?

⎯ captain and lieutenant, of course. but do captains and lieutenants share late nights together, reminiscing on childhood memories as they sit thigh-to-thigh next to each other. do they also sneak off during night shifts to get late night dinner? do they also look at the others' lips, dreaming about inconceivable thoughts about the other?

⎯ i mean, maybe? but maybe not.

⎯ then it hit gepard: how long have you two been like this? did the lines start to blur after you started nagging gepard about getting rest? when you helped him take on paperwork in the late hours of the night?

⎯ gepard loved your nagging. he loved spending late nights with you, because even though he has to do mounds of paperwork, at least he was able to spend time with you. he knew he had a duty to belobog, but when you're tugging on his hand, his fingers feeling hot and tingly paired with his burning cheeks, how could he say no?

⎯ but there are always risks. especially when you're a silvermane guard. your lives are simply too risky for anything to ever happen between the two of you. that's why gepard immerses himself in the little moments between you two: moments where he gets to pull you closer into him; when you place your head on his shoulder to rest; when he gets to subtly brush his hands over yours.

⎯ little did gepard know that these actions sent you into a little frenzy. you were pondering where the lines between close coworkers and lovers were drawn. you felt hot every time he touched you; felt brazen when you placed your head on his shoulders. did he feel the same? if he didn't, why was he initiating all these actions?

you asked the question on yet another late night in his office, the both of you doing paperwork. "gepard, what are we?"

⎯ he looked up instantaneously, the sound of your voice immediately getting his attention. when the question itself rendered in his mind, he had to take a second to think. gepard knows you two weren't only captain and lieutenant.

"captain and lieutenant," gepard plays dumb, not knowing how to properly answer your question so soon. your face drops for a second and gepard already wants to rush over and do something to make you feel better.

"you know we're more than that," you trailed off quietly. you took your focus off of gepard and now put your all into finishing your half of the paperwork, taking gepard's response as a sign of rejection. you finished and left for the night. when you bid him goodbye, gepard wanted nothing more but to you pull you in with the slight grasp of his hands on your arm and beg you to stay the night.

⎯ after that, you avoided gepard for a few days. there was distance between the two of you, and gepard was freaking out. had you taken his answer as a sign of rejection?? how does he make it right?? what'll he'll do without you???? how can he LIVE without you?? so, he goes to serval for help.

⎯ the next day he storms throughout the fort to find you. he hasn't spoken to you in a few days, and gepard swore he was going mad.

"yn," gepard rushed to stand in front of you, briefly slamming the door shut. he knew that it was loud, but right now gepard had more important priorities, "i need to talk to you."

his arm was placed on your wrist, turning you around tenderly, "yes, captain?" when you said captain instead of gepard, he felt his heart shatter.

"your question. from a few nights ago," gepard panted out, "i don't know what we are. but i want to find out. with you. only you, if you'd give me another chance," gepard flushed when he said his last sentence. you took notice of this, coming closer towards him.

"you're dramatic, gepard," you teased, pulling him into an embrace. you felt gepard melt within your touch, "i would've given you a chance no matter what."

blade (kinda modern!au-ish).

⎯ the question of the relations between you and blade never dwelled on his mind. you were here, you stayed, and you're happy. shouldn't that be enough?

⎯ blade never gave thought to the little smile he had on his face when he saw you laughing. he never considered why he felt so much more at ease when you were around. he just thought that, because you two were friends, it was normal to have tingly blissful euphoric feelings around you! he would never admit it either, but he always felt so excited when he saw you.

⎯ yeah... who is going to break the news to him

⎯ as much as he tried, blade couldn't ignore the fact that some of the things he felt for you were more than just friendship. he knew he needed to reevaluate his feelings, especially after he saw you with another guy the other day.

⎯ it's unusual for blade to become jealous. he usually isn't bothered by the problems of others. but today, he had a solid reason. you two had made plans to walk around the xianzhou and get lunch. so why would you be associating with this random guy while you had plans with blade?? stupid reasoning but can u blame him?? he's jealous.

⎯ he rushes to your side, interested in who this new mystery guy was. you guys were friends, so it would've been common courtesy to introduce him to you, right? so he marches right up to you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer into him.

"look at you making new friends," blade smirks as he feels your shoulder collide into his torso, "care to introduce me?"

⎯ you are out here FREAKING TF OUT. is blade jealous??? before this point, you thought your feelings for blade were unreciprocated, no matter how many times you tried to delude yourself otherwise. there were some times where you thought blade had similar feelings towards you, only for it to be debunked.

⎯ but this?? why was he suddenly pulling you so close to him?? why is he practically giving your friend the death stare?? is he jealous? he couldn't be: you two aren't even together. but is it possible that blade does reciprocate your feelings?

you try to avoid blade's eyes, making sure he doesn't see you flush, "this is [friends name]. he just moved here, i was just showing him around." you can feel your skin start to warm.

⎯ what does this mean? why is blade acting like this? are you two friends or not? is he just pulling your leg? these questions raced through your head as you followed him to the restaurant you two agreed to get lunch at.

your silence did not go unnoticed by blade. as someone who was usually very chatty and upbeat, you were exceedingly quiet today. "is something wrong?" he asked, tone less cockier than the one he used earlier.

⎯ yes something is wrong. you're confused on where the both of you lie. have you crossed the line? has he crossed the line? there were nights where you laid side by side, hearts both fluttering as you relaxed in the silent. there were also nights where you felt as though your heart would explode if blade had brushed a hand through your hair once more. but after blade's little stunt today, it left you confused on where he lay in the entire equation. you had to find out.

"what... what was that earlier?" you muster up the courage to look up at him. you're sitting across from him, legs almost touching his. if today was under different circumstances (and a different universe in general), this could be considered a date.

⎯ your question made blade lose this breath. maybe you caught onto the fact that he was jealous. blade fidgeted with his hand under the table; now that you've caught on, is now the time to sort out his feelings? blade realized that you two may not just be friends. but he hasn't thought about what you two would be if you weren't friends. and he'd sound like an asshole if he just responded with i don't know.

"just wanted to know who your friend was," blade diverted. it was an obvious and blatant lie, even he knew it.

"don't be like that," your eyes softened. you rested your head on your hand as you took a deep breath. if you weren't as hyper-focused on what blade's nexts words were going to be, you would be able to easily find your answer based on the way blade is admiring you. the way the sun hits your face perfectly, making you glow right across from him. you looked divine.

"what are we?" you finally asked. "are we really just friends?" you accentuated the last sentence with a small hint of hope in your voice; hope that may have implied you were wishing to be more than friends.

blade paused, trying to carefully construct his sentence. it would take hours for him to describe how he truly felt about you. it would take even longer to decipher his feelings towards you. so for now, he settles with this, "no. but whatever you want, i will grant it for you. and if you want to talk about it, i'll talk about it with you, because i'll be there for you. that i can assure you."

and you smile, because even though that answer was slightly incomplete, it meant that there was a sliver of hope after all.

welt yang

⎯ tbh i don't even think this man knows what a situationship is. but he regards you as a close colleague and his respect for you is very high. so high that some have trouble differentiating whether his feelings towards you are platonic or romantic.

⎯ there are so many nights and afternoons you two just spend together. you're either watching him draw or pressuring him to do art-offs. obviously the winner would be you (welt).

⎯ he spends so much time with you that, over time, the lines between friendship and relationship began to blur. you two were practically acting like a couple already, though you two didn't know it.

⎯ himiko had her suspicions. she knew there was something up with the both of you, but she didn't know if it was official or not. it would be embarrassing if she regarded the two of you as friends if the both of you were dating. however, it'd be equally embarrassing if she did the same thing, but vice versa. so she asked!

"so, yn. are you and welt together?" himiko asked out of the blue one day. the two of you were in the parlor car drinking tea whilst welt & the others were trailblazing.

you nearly spit out your tea at the question. before now, you've never viewed you and welt as anything but friends. "where did that question come from?" you quickly retorted.

himiko raised her eyebrows in shock, "are you serious?" she gave you a confused look, which slowly turned into a look of realization, "oh shit, i didn't just ruin your secret relationship right?"

you were baffled, "what?! no, no there is nothing going on between me and welt," you quickly downed your tea as a way to get rid of your blush (fluster = stupid). "where did you even get that idea from?"

himiko gave you a pitiful look, as if she knew something that you didn't. "everyone thinks you two have something going on. i mean, have you noticed the way he looks at you? and have you heard your little couple-y banter?"

"we don't 'couple-y banter,' himiko," you denied. himiko raised her eyebrow once more. "and he looks at me like a normal person would."

"yn, he looks absolutely enamoured with you every time he even glances at you."

⎯ from then on, you began analyzing everything that welt did. the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, etc. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. except for the fact that your heart raced the more you looked at him. and the way you felt like you were being transported to another world every time he would rest his hand on your shoulder. and welt was completely oblivious to it.

⎯ does he know about this? does he know about the grip he has on you? does he think you two share "couple-y banter????"

⎯ you couldn't take it anymore. at this point, you were desperate to know. partially because you felt as though everyone knew except you, but also partially because you needed to clear out these rampant feelings for your colleague.

"welt," you spoke with utmost seriousness in your voice, "what are we?"

⎯ now, welt did not expect this. he thought he was being subtle about his feelings. he thought the way his hands would slightly brush over yours was subtle. he thought that he wasn't being obvious. so how did you know??

"is there⎯something between us?" you stared at him, desperate for answers.

⎯ welt took your questions as rejections. the way your tone shifted to seriousness; the way you looked so worried; who else would act like this if they weren't going to reject someone? but alas, better to get it over with. things on the express may be more awkward, but it would've been awkward either way.

"i have feelings for you, yn," welt calmly stated. "i have for a while now. so, on my part, there is something between us. however, i completely understand if you feel differently."

you took a sigh of relief. this wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. plus, who said getting with welt was going to be negative?

"luckily for you," you leaned closer, "i don't," you grinned.

jing yuan

⎯ jing yuan was completely unaware of any romantic speculations between the two of you. of course, people talked, but it wasn't like he would pay attention to them. he was too busy focusing on you (how ironic).

⎯ jing yuan thought everything was completely normal between the both of you until yanqing brought it up.

"when is your partner coming over again? if they're coming soon, tell them i'm ready to beat them at chess," yanqing boasted proudly.

"i think you're mistaken, yanqing. i don't have a partner," jing yuan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. who would yanqing even mistake as jing yuan's partner?

"oh really? so the person that comes over every now and then with the horribly baked goods is not your partner?" yanqing was referring to you, of course. practically the whole entire world knows about your terrible baking skills.

"no? why would you think that?" jing yuan crossed his arms.

"the way you look at them. you're also really gentle with them. you're not cocky or like, smug. and you're always looking out for them," yan qing answers.

"okay, but i'm also gentle with you. and i always look out for you as well. what is the difference?"

yanqing sighs, as if jing yuan was the child in the room. "you'll understand soon enough," yanqing lectures.

⎯ jing yuan started to think then. he interrogated yanqing about his reasoning for the assumption, curious on how anyone could ever think that. but then he also realized that anyone also meant a lot of people. it wasn't just yanqing that felt this way; it was nearly everyone that knew the both of you.

⎯ jing yuan thinks you two are just platonic. keyword being thinks. with his job, he tries to avoid romantic connection most of the time, fearing for his future partner and more. but with you, jing yuan feels that connection there, but he's just ignored it so much that he thinks it's gone. little did he know that those feelings were still there, wild and unbridled.

⎯ one day you come over again, terribly burnt goods in your bag as per usual, and it seems like everything is normal. you casually talk with jing yuan like always. he still doesn't get why yanqing thought of you two as a couple.

your conversation is very casual and platonic. that is, until yanqing comes in, "i smelled burnt things and i knew you came, yn," he waved, "we need to play chess soon, before jing yuan," yanqing narrows his eyes, "starts training." yanqing smirked and immediately jing yuan knew he was up to no good. "we can talk about how jing yuan wouldn't stop asking questions about you the other day."

⎯ jing yuan swore his eye twitched. he was about to hunt down the little kid before melodic sound of your laughter captured his attention. and maybe, just maybe, jing yuan wasn't thinking anymore.

⎯ a few days passed and his feelings have not changed from, well, ever. jing yuan finds himself more and more entranced by you every time you come over. he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into you after yanqing's comment.

⎯ this has not gone unnoticed by your eyes, however, as jing yuan seemed to be getting more and more obvious. he'd gaze at you longer than usual, check up on you more often, be more affectionate. it was uncanny, but it was appreciated. besides, you had similar feelings for him too.

"are you two together yet?" yanqing whined as you took one of his chess pieces. "no," you, "why? want me around more?" you teased.

"yes," yanqing immediately responds. you didn't expect such a fast response. "so you'd buy me food when my allowance runs short. or better yet, convince the general to get me food. he'd practically listen to anything you say."

⎯ within these short days, you find yourself more and more intrigued. intrigued, yet confused. when and where were the lines drawn between you and jing yuan? and does he really feel the same, or is yanqing exaggerating.

you spontateously popped the question on jing yuan one night. yanqing was asleep (thank god), so no sneaky quips from him during this moment. "what are we, jing yuan?"

the sound of his name on your lips made jing yuan lose his mind; it nearly distracted him from your question at hand. "we are together, according to yanqing," he joked. you, however, were serious.

"do you want us to be together?" you peer up at him, "because i wouldn't mind," you say the last part so quietly that jing yuan has to lean down to hear you.

jing yuan grins; it's not a grin of a (so called) scoundrel, but a grin of a man who is in love. he takes you in an embrace and secretly thanks yanqing in his head, all whilst pulling you closer within him.

jing yuans was so insanely long bc i tried to include all the father son moments 😭😭 idek if it’s father son.

[httpsdana]

hi! i really like your fics and i had a really bad day today so could you do the sappiest fluff about gavi or pedri.

basically i got my period today and i was having the worst cramps of my life so something along the lines of that maybe?

take care and thank you x

Sweet Relief~Pedri Gonzalez

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

The first rays of morning light peek through the curtains as Pedri stirs awake, glancing over to see his girlfriend curled up beside him, still fast asleep. He checks his phone and sees the date, realizing it’s around the time of the month when she usually get her period.

He remembers the last few times — how much pain she'd been in, how tired and miserable it made her feel. Determined to make today as easy as possible, he quietly slips out of bed, making sure not to wake her up, and heads out to the nearest store.

Once he arrives, he walks through the aisles, carefully picking out everything he knows she'll need: pads, pain relief medicine, her favorite chocolate, chips, and that comforting herbal tea she loved.

He even picks up a couple of fluffy blankets and an extra heating pad, just in case. With his arms full of supplies, he heads back home, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of surprising her and making her feel better.

When he returns, she's still curled up under the blankets, her brows slightly furrowed as if she's in discomfort even while asleep. Pedri sets everything down quietly, arranging it all neatly on the bedside table, and then gently climbs back into bed beside her.

He brushes a few stray hairs from her face, his fingertips as light as a feather. He watches as she starts to wake up, and he’s there, right by her side when her eyes flutter open. The first thing she felt was that familiar ache, and she instantly knew — her period has arrived. She let out a groan, wrapping herself tighter in the blankets, which makes Pedri’s face soften with understanding.

“Good morning, princesa,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

y/n blinks at him, managing a small smile despite the cramps. “Morning… didn’t know you were up already.”

Pedri grins, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I had a feeling you’d be needing a little extra help today,” he says, glancing meaningfully at the stash he’s gathered on the bedside table. “So, I got you all set up.”

Her eyes follow his gaze, and she's met with the sight of her favorite snacks, pain meds, a heating pad, and a neat stack of pads. She let out a breathless laugh, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “Pedri, you did all this… just for me?”

“Of course, princesa,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he cups her cheek. “I know how bad it gets, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I’m here to take care of you, remember?”

She reached up to hold his hand on her cheek, leaning into his touch. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Never,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “You deserve it.”

He sits up, grabbing the heating pad and carefully placing it over her stomach. She sighes in relief as the warmth begins to seep through, easing some of the ache. Pedri grins, pleased, then settles back beside her, slipping an arm around her so she can rest against his shoulder.

“Is there anything else you need, mi amor?” he asks softly, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“Just you,” she murmured, snuggling into his side. “And maybe… a little bit of chocolate?”

He chuckles, reaching over to grab the chocolate he brought. Unwrapping it, he holds a piece to her lips, smiling as she took a bite. “Anything else, hermosa?”

y/n smiles, feeling herseld relax under his touch and attention. “No, this is perfect. thank you, baby.”

He leans down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Always, princesa. I’m here to spoil you.”

At one point, y/n shifted uncomfortably, wincing as another wave of cramps hits. Pedri notices immediately, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “More painkillers?” he asks softly.

She nodded, and he’s up in a heartbeat, bringing her water and the medicine. He watches her take it, then slides back onto the bed, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her. “Here, lay against me. I’ll hold you until it goes away.”

She lets herself settle into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his chest against her back. His arms wrapped around her protectively, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her arm. “You’re my angel, you know that?” she murmured, glancing up at him.

He blushed but smiled down at her, pressing his lips to her temple. “Only for you, mi vida.”

A little later, when he catches her staring at the pile of snacks with a tiny smile, he tilts his head, grinning. “What’s that look for?”

She shrugged, biting her lip. “I just… I’m so lucky to have you. No one’s ever done something like this for me before.”

Pedri’s grin softens, and he tilts her chin up so she's looking directly at him. “Well, get used to it, hermosa. Taking care of you is my favorite thing.” He leans down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, his hand gently stroking her cheek. “And if there’s anything else you need, you just tell me. I’m all yours today.”

She let out a sigh, sinking into his arms as he presses a series of gentle kisses along her forehead, cheeks, and nose, each one lighter than the last. “Pedri, you’re spoiling me,” she whispered, even though she's loving every second of it.

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “That’s the point, amor. Besides, you deserve to be spoiled.”

The rest of the day continues with Pedri attending to every little thing. He helps her get cozy with extra blankets, adjusting the heating pad whenever she needed it, and even turning on her favorite movie for jer to relax. He laughs with her, making jokes, and he listens to her every whim, whether she needed more snacks, another glass of water, or just a long cuddle to take her mind off the cramps.

“Hey,” he murmurs at one point, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “How’s my princesa doing?”

She snuggled closer, letting out a soft hum. “A lot better with you here.” she smiled up at him, and he grinned ,pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere,” he says, then shifts so she's cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around her frame. He peppers her face with little kisses, making her giggle. “I’m on official period duty today. Whatever you need — I’m at your service.”

“You’re amazing,” she murmured, nuzzling into his neck. “Thank you for everything.”

“Anything for my girl,” he whispers back, rubbing her back softly. “You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.” His fingers trail up and down her spine, soothing her, as he held her close.

Later, when she started feeling sleepy, he wrapped her up in his arms, pulling the blanket around them both. “Close your eyes, princesa. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She doze off with him holding her, and when she woke up, he’s still there, smiling down at her with that same warm look in his eyes. “Did you sleep okay, mi vida?” he asks, stroking her hair gently.

She nodded, feeling so safe and cared for. “I love you, Pedri.”

He beams, his face lighting up as he leans down to kiss her. “I love you too, hermosa. So, so much.”

[jyoongim]

Hola, I was wondering for an Alastor x reader (which isn’t particularly romantic if you don’t want it to be) where the reader needed a job and started working at the hotel?

But she’s pregnant (and hell born) so she’s struggling a bit and he helps her out with stuff when she’s tired :)

Alastor x pregnant!hellborn!reader

Something cute and fluffy to read

——————————————————————————

When you found yourself pregnant you were in shock.You didn’t know what to do or where to go. 

You had saw an ad for a hotel in need of a another maid and decided you would give it a go.

The hotel was ran by the Princess of Hell, who happily accepted you. She had told you the hotel was for sinners seeking redemption. You thought it was odd, but a job was a job.

You were hesitate to tell her of your condition, thinking she would turn you down but she didn’t. She had told you the farther along you got that it was okay to ask for help.

So now you were a maid at the Hazbin Hotel.

All the residents were…surprisingly nice.

You sheepishly introduced yourself and hoped to get along with everyone. The hotel wasn’t in the worst state, but it could use a good polishing.

Niffty was often with you to assist when you couldn’t clean certain places.

The sunlight had alerted you that you needed to wake up and start your day. You sighed as you rolled out of bed and put on your uniform. You pouted as your belly poked through the material, you were about six months now and it was showing.

You made your way downstairs to head to the kitchen to begin cleaning, knowing you might have missed breakfast.

Charlie had been kind enough to leave you a list of things that needed sprucing up.

You were thankful that the kitchen wasn’t in too much of a mess.

Grabbing empty dishes and turning on the water, you began to clean.

You hummed a little song as you busted the suds. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t notice when Alastor waltzed into the kitchen.

Alastor’s ears perked when he saw you. You rarely saw the demon as you were usually busy, but he was pleasant company to keep.

”Good morning my dear! What a fine hellish day it is!” He chirped, causing you to spin around. You smiled “good morning Alastor” as you continued rinsing and piling dishes on the counter.

The two of you chatted as he made a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. You had finished washing everything and now to put things up.

You frowned when you got to the cups. You couldn’t reach the cabinets and putting too much strain on your back wasn’t good for the baby.

”How’s the little on fairing you my dear? It seems you’ve grown since the last time I saw you” the red demon inquired as he watched you try to figure out what to do with the cups.

You laughed ”heavy. It seems I am in need to let out a few inches in my uniform.” You rubbed your belly.

You spotted the tiny stool that Niffty used and smiled.

Shuffling a bit, you angled it so you could reach.

You were almost done placing everything when you misreached for a cup and because your center of gravity was off, you found yourself tilting off

”Aaah!” You squealed clenching your eyes ready for impact, when you fell into a firm chest.

”careful my dear” 

you opened your eyes and see that Alastor was supporting you. You smiled sheepishly and thanked him, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

But the demon hummed as he carried you to the lobby and sat you down on a couch. “Al! I’m fine besides I have to other things to clean today” you pouted.

His brows frowned “nonsense! You can’t possibly clean in this state” 

You huffed “Iam perfectly fine. Just didn’t realize how off balance I am now”

You stood, thanked him and went about you day.

But maybe he was right.

Your list was almost finished, but you had one last thing to do.

It was almost the late evening and you were tired from buzzing around the hotel. You were tired, sweaty, your feet felt swollen, and your back ached.

You growled in annoyance when you felt your baby kick as you scrubbed a mysterious spot on the rug.

”I’m almost finished and i promise you’ll get some grub” you patted your belly hoping to soothe the angry soul, but it seemed your baby was irritated.

A sharp kick made you hiss as you wrung out your sponge.

You checked the time, you didn’t know it had gotten so late.

Your stomach growled in protest as you hadn’t really ate anything all day.

You sighed and decided a quick break wouldnt hurt.

Huffing you took a seat on the couch and sighed in relief to be off your feet.

You didn’t notice that you had dozed off when a hand gently shook you.

Alastor.

”Oh Al did you need something? I didn’t even realized I had fell asleep” you rubbed your eyes.

The red demon snapped his fingers and a plate of food appeared. You blinked in confusion “You seemed tired so no one wanted to bother you, but Charlie was worried you hadn’t eaten today. You need to take better care of yourself dear. Its not just you you need to think about” He nudged a piece of fruit towards you.

You got teary-eyed. You had been feeling like more of a burden, but everyone did care about you, even the evil Overlord.

You graciously accepted the food and damn near went feral when you realized how hungry you were.

You patted your belly happily stuffed, your baby pressing against you, guess the little soul was happy as well.

”May I?” Alastor asked, eyes focused on your belly. You smiled. You didn’t take Alastor for the touchy type, but who could resist a pregnant woman?

You took his hand and pressed it against where your baby was resting. Your body buzzed as his static surrounded you and your baby kicked at his hand.

You let out a giggle “I think the baby likes you Al”

He smiled “oh I’m sure it’ll turn out to be as lovely as its mother”

You made a motion to get up and Alastor helped hoisting you up

”why don’t you take a rest hmm? Wouldn’t want you to be a sack of bone now would we?”

He escorted you to your room and you smiled at him as you opened your door.

”Thanks Alastor I really appreciate everything” you quickly pressed your lips to the demon’s cheek and giggled as static popped and wished him a goodnight.

Maybe raising a baby in a hotel wasn’t all that bad.

[edenesth]

[7:16 AM]

"I'm gonna dieeee," you wailed, curling up on the couch. Pouting, you glanced over at Jongho, who was busy preparing breakfast—or at least you thought so—in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

He snorted and shook his head. "You say that every month, yet here you are, alive and well time and time again."

"Would it hurt to console me a little? Try being a woman for a month and see how you like it." With a scoff, you reached for a pillow, ready to throw it at him, but a wave of cramps hit your lower half. Wincing, you clutched the soft material close and waited for the pain to pass.

Damn it, being a woman sucked. If you get pregnant, you suffer for nine months. If you don't, you still suffer every month. Why did you have to be a woman? Life would be so much easier if you were a man. Like that bastard standing there, engrossed in whatever he was doing, neglecting his poor girlfriend who was in so much pain—

"Here you go, babe. I got you your heat pad."

Oh.

Suddenly, you felt guilty for thinking of him that way when all he had been trying to do was ensure your comfort. Your lips quivered as you reached out to him with grabby hands. Damn your period mood swings; they were driving you insane.

His eyes widened in panic at your tears as he rushed over, kneeling beside you and gently pressing the pad onto your stomach, knowing exactly where to hold it by now. One hand on your tummy, the other instinctively cupped your face. "What is it, babe? Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat."

You shook your head, mumbling, "No, that's too much work."

He hummed thoughtfully. "I can cut you some apples, at least?"

"Break them in half, you mean."

He nodded. "Yeah, or that too."

Just as he moved to stand up, presumably to go break some apples, you whined and tugged on his hand. "No, you idiot. I don't need anything else. I just want you to stay here with me… please."

Your boyfriend finally understood the cause of your morning grumpiness. Though your period cramps were always terrible and tended to affect your mood, today you appeared even more restless than usual. He softened as he realised his mistake in fussing over you when all you really wanted was for him to stay by your side.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here now. I'll stay with you for as long as you need me to," he whispered, settling beside you and pulling your smaller frame close. His heart fluttered when you immediately snuggled up to him as if it were second nature.

"Good, then stay forever," you murmured, leaning up to kiss his jaw. He gave you a comforting squeeze, his heart skipping a beat at your words. Pressing his lips against your head, he nuzzled his face into your hair, wondering why he hadn't done this sooner.

"Maybe I will," he said, savouring the feeling of you in his arms, pressed against him. The soft sensation of your breath on his skin, the warmth radiating from you, the rise and fall of your chest against his side, and the dreamy way you looked up at him—all of it made him think that staying like this forever wouldn't be so bad. "Be careful what you wish for. You'd better not grow tired of me when I do cling to you forever."

You bit your lip. "Never, Choi Jongho. I'll never get tired of you." With that, you sealed the promise with a kiss that seemed to make all the period cramps in the world disappear.

ATEEZ Masterlist

The way I'm tired asf but felt the need to get this out of my system before going to bed. It's that time of the month for me HAHA I'm in pain and honestly, nothing makes me feel better than being delulu🤡

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[4nicolas]

ROCK PAPER SCISSORS

———————————————————————————————————

satoru gojo x male reader

-you and gojo were trying to decide where to eat but he insisted you picked, obviously you didn’t care so instead suggest a game. satoru agrees but puts his own twist on it.

cw - kissing ig, they’re kinda gay, gojo is bad at flirting

wrd ct - 1600+

this was made with male reader in mind but I don’t think the gender is specified.

this takes place during the hidden inventory arc before suguru geto left.

—————————————————————————

the streets of tokyo weren’t ever this busy, I mean yeah obviously they were busy, but today as the people of japan walked the streets you and satoru can’t help but feel cramped. the two of you were practically pushed up against each other, shoulder to shoulder.

the two of you had just got back from a mission at an elementary school, easily exorcising the curses that lie dormant there scaring the children both you and gojo were starving. who knew saving people could be so tiring!

wanting to get out of the crowd gojo grabs your hand attempting to pull you somewhere secluded, which was difficult because there were not only people in front of you but also surrounding you.

you could feel gojos growing annoyance as he shimmed in between men and women with you being dragged along behind him. you could hear gojo muttering small apologies as he practically shoved these people aside.

it felt like an eternity before you made it to an empty alleyway. “oh yeah, real smart bringing us to a creepy, dark alleyway, satoru” you poked at him. “aw cmon, you’re with the strongest sorcerer, no need to worry babe.” he smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but stare at him.

you felt your cheeks warm up a bit at the stupid pet name he used even though you knew it was a joke. he used those dumb nicknames on you all the time, you should be used to it by now, right?

shaking away your thoughts you zone back into what satoru was saying. “anyway, I doubt anyone would try and mug us or shoot us or whatever criminals do.” you shrugged at him, he was probably right but still, you could never be too cautious.

gojo suddenly clapped his hands together, grabbing your attention even more as if he already didn’t have it. “now, back to the matter at hand, where do you wanna eat?”

gojo started naming places, waiting for you to say one of his listed options. he was counting on his fingers and already listed surrounding eateries. you lack of response made him look up, blinking a couple times before waving a hand in front of your face.

“hello? earth to F/N?” you looked at him before speaking, “oh I don’t really mind where we eat, you can pick.” gojo hated when people said that. you knew this but still didn’t pay any mind to it.

satoru deadpanned you. you laughed at his reaction before sighing, “no but seriously, you can choose.” uhhmmm… no? he can’t. suguru chose last time, he chose the time before that and shoko chose the time before that. so it’s your turn.

he shook his head, almost in disbelief how you forgot the turn system. “it’s your turn.” “what?” he deadpanned you again. “the TURN system. you know where we all choose on different turns. and since suguru, me and shoko have went recently, it’s you turn.” he poked your chest, satisfyed with his response.

you laughed at him, “you actually keep track of that?” satorus silly habits always made you laugh. this reminded you of the time he got mad at principal yaga for assigning a mission to you and suguru when it was “clearly his turn to go on a mission with you” suguru didn’t care what happened and yaga eventually gave in to his demands, not wanting to wind him up even more.

satoru looked offended, “uhh, obviously I keep a track of it. how else will we know whose turn it is?” he was acting like this was common knowledge. you laughed again causing satoru to bounce back, “well how would you decide, F/N?” he crossed him arms over his chest.

you looked at him, contemplating what you would do, and as if a lightbulb went off in your head you snapped. “I know. I would probably just use the classic rock paper scissors. you know, winner picks.”

satoru squinted at you, seemingly dumbfounded by your choice of words. his arms drop to his sides and sighs, exaggeratingly so. “fineeee. i guess, we can do rock paper scissors.” you were about to be shocked by how easily satoru gave in before you heard a “but,”

you raised your brow at him. “-but best to three, loser pays, winner decides, AND-“ oh boy. “-every time we draw the same sign, we have the kiss.” now you really were shocked. your eyes widened at his sentence.

while you were still unable to respond, satoru slyly smiled. enjoying your look of shock and what he thought was flustered but he wasn’t sure. instead of responding you nod, “okay, alright then, best to three.” you raised your fist to your palm and satoru grinned.

he put his hand up to his palm opposite of you before he started counting down. three. two. one. you threw out scissors and looks at satorus hand to see rock. he beat you in the first round.

the both of you went again, going on the count of three before drawing out paper. you look up, seeing satoru also had paper. before you could react satoru chuckles, “well… you agreed to the rules F/N.”

satoru steps closer, inches away from your face. you can feel your body betraying you by making your face and the tips of your ears red. satoru stood in front of you, waiting for you to initiate the kiss.

hesitantly, you moved your face even closer to his, feeling his breath on your lips before closing the distance. the kiss was very short. basically just a peck. you backed away getting even more flustered.

you tried to hide it by jokingly wiping your hands across your lips. satoru simply watches, a shit eating grin on his face at your reaction.

“I mean it wouldn’t have hurt if the kiss was longer but.. whatever!” satoru smiled at you, his eyes creasing in the corners before putting his hands back up.

“it’s still 1-0 you know.” satoru spoke slightly dragging out the ‘w’. you raised your hands back up, getting ready to play again.

three. two. one. you threw out rock, satoru had scissors. 1-1.

satoru frowned for a moment, almost disappointed in the round. you thought nothing of it and continued on.

you both got ready to play again, putting your hands up. three. two. one. you had paper, satoru had rock. you won again, 1-2.

you began to felt nervous almost expecting there to be another tie that forces you to kiss gojo. the two rounds went by fast but all you could focus on was the quick kiss you both shared.

trying to shake your thoughts away, you raised your hands up, meeting gojos. three. two. one. you drew scissors, satoru drew rock. 2-2.

satoru hadn’t spoke in the past couple rounds instead focusing on his hands. you wanted to say something but nothing came to mind, instead you did the same as him, looking directly at your hands.

three. two. one. you looked at your hand seeing paper, and nervously looked up at satorus. rock. you had won, which meant you chose and he had to pay. which satoru saw as a win, he already wanted you to choose and planned on paying.

you let out a small breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking back up to satorus gaze. he’s staring behind you. you turn around, not seeing anything before turning back to see satoru a few inches away from you, similar to when you kissed.

you both stayed silent, simply breathing before you broke the silence. “well I guess I won.” gojo smiles, glancing at your lips. “yeah, guess so.”

you went to back away from gojo but before you could even turn your head, his hand grabs your wrist.

not expecting the contact, you jump, looking at him. “what’s up with you today, man..?” you question him in a joking manner. he stays silent, observing you.

satoru sighs, dropping his hand from your wrist, disappointment crossing his features. he puts his hands in his pockets as you stare at him.

“what’s wrong?” your voice comes out in a joking manner but you both knew it wasn’t a joke.

satoru looks you in the eyes before looking up. “nothing, just thought you would’ve gotten the hint from that, but turns out not.”

you still weren’t quite grasping what he was saying, clearly stated by your confused look.

satoru sighs even louder than before and looks back at your face. “do I really gotta spell it out for you?”

you blink, once, then twice. trying to piece together what he was saying. how he agreed to play the game if there was a chance to kiss you, the way he frowned when you didn’t tie, the way he looked at you. hell, the way he’s currently looking at you.

as if tiny cogs were turning in your brain you suddenly felt like the dumbest person alive. satoru gojo was flirting with you. in his own weird way yeah but he was still doing it.

the stupid pet names, lingering glances, constantly wanting to be around you. you understood now that gojo liked you.

still staring, satoru started to walk past you but before he could you grabbed his wrist. “thanks for making me feel even dumber than I already am satoru.” you mumble, seeing him turn to you, face still before turning into a smile at your realization.

“well, actually you figured it out faster than suguru thought you would’ve.” ignoring his words you pull him towards you, smashing your lips together.

this kiss was longer than before, way longer. it went on until the two of you had to take a breath. satorus arms wrap around you, yours finding their way from his arms to his face before shaking your head.

“did you say suguru thought I would’ve took longer to figure it out?” satoru laughed, the two of you separating before making your way out of the alleyway.

“it’s a long story, in fact we can talk about while we eat. speaking of which where are we eating?” gojos hand held yours as you walked, unsure of which direction to go in unless you named where you were going.

“oh right.”

—————————————————————————

yoo no way, nick made his first post. how crazy is that. anyway i’m having jjk brain rot rn and really wanted to write. here’s something I threw together real quick. hope someone enjoys it.

[hearts4golbach]

Minx.

pairing:

Colby Brock x Fem!Coquette!Reader.

a/n:

first colbs smut 🫡

based on a request but forgot to put it on here, sorry. sent by 🎉

proofread

warnings:

18+ smut, oral sex (f and m recieving), semi-public sex, teasing, slight dom/sub undertones, use of brat, ma, love, baby, sweetheart.

word count:

1.7k

Colby couldn't help but stare whenever you walked around the house in your short skirts. God, you were basically asking for it with the way you bit your lip as you spoke to him. His mind wandered every time you looked up at him with your beautiful e/c eyes, the same ones he'd love to see rolling back into your head.

There was always something going on between the two of you, everyone knew it. Sam insisted the way you felt about eachother was obvious. He said the photo of Colby carrying you inside bridal style was enough proof in itself. (To be fair, you were drunk out of your mind.)

Needless to say, Colby was extremely attracted to your aesthetic. He adored the baby pinks, blues, purples, and white hues you wore. Your pastel pallet made him mentally drool over you. Your opposite aesthetics were the biggest turn on for him. He frequently thought about sliding your sheer white tights off of you and doing things God wouldn't approve of.

You walked through the grocery store, list in hand as Colby followed close behind you, carrying the basket. The list contained only a couple of items that the two of you would need for your next collab video.

Colby observed you closely, watching as your hips swayed, your pale blue skirt hugging your waist tight. Your lacy white top showed your figure well, exposing your cleavage for anyone to see. A twinge of jealousy flashed across his face at the thought.

Colby wrapped his arm around your shoulder, (which wasn't unusual for your friendship.) "Your outfits really cute today." His lips brushed the lobe of your ear as he spoke softly. He made sure only you could hear him.

You felt as if Colby had been throwing around your feelings for months. One day, all he could do was stare at you and make your heart melt with his words. Meanwhile, the next he treated you like you were just some girl. You knew that was just how Colby was, but you were tired of it.

You thought about all the times Colby had tightened his grip on your heart before stabbing you in the back again. It was an endless cycle you wanted to break.

"Make up your fucking mind, Colby." Anger seethe through your voice. You stood on your tippy toes to reach up and grab an item. Colby gripped your waist, his crotch brushing against your ass.

"You know that my mind had been made up." His fingers squeezed the soft flesh of your waist. "You're the one avoiding it, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes and moved out of his grasp. "I'm serious. I don't want to deal with your shit. Stop fucking with my head."

"Then stop being a goddamn brat and let me take you home and show you how serious I am."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes once more, continuing your walk down the isle. You could feel Colbys eyes boring into you. As you thought about his offer, you couldn't decide if he was serious or not. Either way, the thought made arousal pool in your panties.

Colby held a smug smirk on his face as he walked next to you, a non-chalant demeanor to him. "Now who's not being serious?" He mocked.

You ignored him, reading over the list to see if you had forgotten anything. You muttered curses under your breath.

Without a second thought, Colby interlocked his fingers with yours and dragged you towards the back of the store. You didn't pay any mind as to where the basket ended up as Colby locked the family restroom door.

"C'mon, baby. Talk to me." His hand brushed over your cheek.

You crossed your arms. "You need to talk to me!" You emphasized. "Stop going back and forth with me. Do you want me or not, Colby?"

He sighed, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "Y/n, I want you so fucking bad it scares me sometimes." He admitted as he smirked into your skin, placing light kisses on your neck. "Let me show you."

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Fine. Prove it."

"Jump." He instructed, wrapping his arms unde your thighs as you did so.

He kissed you passionately, placing you on the counter and letting his hands roam your body. He grinded his hard, clothed cock against you, making you let out a quiet moan.

You deepened the kiss, letting your hands begin to unbuckle his jeans. "No," he tsked, "who the fuck said you're in charge?"

You muttered an annoyed apology as Colby began to kiss your chest. His fingers dug into your hips as he sucked dark hickeys on your cleavage. His goal was to make sure everyone knew you were his. You arched into his touch, the feeling of his teeth on your skin making you want to let him take control. You knew you had no choice, Colby was in charge and he had made that very clear.

Colbys hands squeezed the soft flesh of your thighs, sliding up your skirt and teasing the hem of your lacey white panties. "Can I?"

You nodded, a desperate movement. He placed a soft kiss on your lips as he began to slide your panties down your legs. "Lift up." He said, jaw clenched.

Your panties hung off your ankle as he gently spread your legs, kneeling down in front of you. Without warning, he buried his face in your dripping cunt. "F-fuck." Your hand flew to his messy hair.

"You taste so sweet," he mumbled against your pussy. You writhes under his touch as he abused your sensitive nub.

You moaned out his name as quietly as you could, holding back the noises threatening to escape your lips that'd alarm the whole store. "Co-colby!"

He had your skirt pushed up around your waist. You were driving him absolutely insane with the noises you were making. He kneeded the soft skin of your inner thighs as he worked magic, licking through your folds.

He couldn't get enough, eating you like he was a starved man. Two of his fingers found their way inside of you, slowly pumping to add stimulation. "You're so fuckin' tight, ma." He mumbled. "Can't wait to be inside a'you."

It was almost too much, your thighs clamping around his head. He held them open, his fingers painfully digging into you. He curled his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you, making you shudder. "I-I'm so close.. Please-"

He removed his mouth from your clit with a pop before removing his fingers entirely. You whimpered at the loss of contact, watching carefully as he stood up. "Not yet, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on the corner of your lips.

Before you knew it, he had you flipped over. You rested your cheek on the cold marble counter, breathing heavily. You looked back, the possessive look in Colbys eyes made your core ache for more. The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance as he slowly entered you. "Fuck- so goddamn tight. You're amazing." He wrapped his fingers in your hair and pulled you up.

Colby kissed your neck as he thrusted inside of you at a slow pace. You attempted to reach back and touch his arm, but he pushed you back down. He grabbed your arm and held it behind your back as he sped up his pace. "so fucking good, Colbs.." You basically drooled over how good he was fucking you.

He placed a kiss on your shoulder. "So perfect." He placed a light tap on your ass as he hit the perfect spot deep inside of you. He choked out a groan as your cunt squeezed him tightly.

You could feel his thick cock stretching you open. Strings of moans and curses fell from your lips, your mind a haze.

He slammed his hips against yours, sounds of skin slapping filled the room. You felt so close to the edge again. "Colby, I-"

"I know, baby. Me too." He breathed heavily. "Where do you want me?"

You cried out as he bottomed out inside of you. "M-mouth. My mouth- please." Your own words shocked you, you couldn't even imagine how Colby felt.

He let out a grunt in agreement, possibly a little too excited at your request. "C'mon, love. Cum on my dick."

He reached his hand around to rub circled on your clit. Your legs shook as you came, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"You did so, so good. Good girl." He purred, pulling out of you.

Without a response, you immediately dropped to your knees. "Open your mouth," he gripped your jaw as he bossed you to submission.

You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes he adored. He could've came at the sight. He thrusted his hips forward, pushing his hard length into your mouth.

"Suck." He instructed, his voice shaking as he tried to remain in control.

You bobbed your head, not bothering starting at a slow pace. He wraps his hand in your hair guidingly. His body tenses as he reaches his climax, his cum covering your mouth. You suck him clean, making him melt under your gaze.

"Swallow. All of it." He pulled his cock out of your mouth, looking down at you with love and lust in his eyes.

You did as he said, keeping eye contact as you swallowed his juices. He reached down, wiping the drool off your chin before helping you back to a standing position.

Your legs wobbled as you walked out of the restroom hand in hand. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, and you prayed it wouldn't be when you got home.

[ch3rryflav0ur]

Just give me the worst and I give you the worst part of me.

Sunghoon is tired of you, tired of seeing you waste your feelings on assholes and be a whore to every man around you who pays you any attention, to everyone…except your friend's little brother.

N/A: I didn't know what titleput on this shot(?) hahah, so I started listening to my Spotify playlist and heard this song and boom SO JUST GIVE ME WORST, I GIVE YOU THE WORST PART OF ME (I love this song 😭💗)

Minors dni: if you like it, please reblog it or let me know in the comments

Pairing: MeanSunghoon! x afab reader

tw: unprotected sex, deepthroat, hate sex,kinda non-con lmao, younger brother´s friend, taesan fron bnd is a dick, wonbin from riize is a dick too, anal sex, choking,

"You should said hi to that girl at least" I told him appearing from behind making Sunghoon got scared at my voice while his eyes were laid on that pretty blonde girl from his window.

"stop doing that" He replied looking at me somewhat annoyed as if I had caught him doing something really bad.

"doing what?" I replied teasing him, my hands touching his cheeks like I used to do when he was little but he only pushed my hands away, I snorted.

"Don't you have to go suck any cock?" He told me smiling to the side

"Grow up!" I replied, rolling my eyes at his sarcastic comment. "Don't be a whore"

"Then stop bothering me" he replied, pushing me away gently "or at least help me" before letting go he grabbed my wrist "I want that girl to pay attention to me, you owe me one for that time when I covered for you when you ran away at night with that loser, my sister didn't know you miss half of her birthday just because you want it some dick"

"Hey! I told you that was a misunderstanding, I went with him to get her birthday cake" I defend myself. Did I fuck with him? Yes but did I also buy her birthday cake? also true. "I know your neighbor, she is kinda dumb" I replied sitting on his bed, adjusting my skirt, watching him try to decipher my words while I lay down on his bed not caring that my skirt may rolled up a lil bit showing some tan skin, since today i'm seeing Taesan later, I put some more coconut lotion on my body

"well she is like you then" He joked.

"Do you want her to like you or hate you?" I sighed. "His ex was Park Jongseong, such a cute loverboy" I looked at him "not like you"

"is that your type? he asked me "boring rich kids?"

"not even close" I replied.

Sunghoon thought about Jay Park and his huge list of lovers, he knew him from afar, they shared common friends but he wasn't the kind of person he wanted around him, he didn't like people who was too much kindly with everyone, something seems off about him.

"I am very romantic" he said slowly looking at that blondie, yeah she was hot.

"sure" I said sarcastically sitting up straight, resting my hands on the corner of his bed about to get up and leave.

Sunghoon approached the bed nonchalant in front of me, leaning slowly as my body involuntarily moved back, I swallowed hard, my eyes looking at his nervously but I quickly looked down when I felt his big hands pull a lil bit down my skirt, covering my thights "just because I've never been nice to you doesn't mean I'm not" his hands stayed on my thighs for a short period of time, I was about to stand up but his hands returned this time to each side of the resting on the mattress. "You would be surprised how good I am with sweet girls" His voice was deeper and he emphasized the sixth word.

"ew" I pushed him.

(...)

"is she your girlfriend?" One of the boys ask Taesan as he keep talking about his last hook up, sunghoon wanted to shut his mouth honestly, he was boring trying to kill some time as he smoke his fourth cigar not paying attention to the conversation.

"I'd never have a girlfriend like her" he said curtly, thinking about it "I just like the way she can let me beat up the real thing raw, just say a few nice things and she already bended over my dick"

It was all laughter until that idiot show up some photos that he took of her topless, big titties showing up.

"Isn't that...?" Jake said asking Sunghoon. "Nah, not cool bro" Jake said to Taesan "she's my friend"

"I fuck her last year" wonbin said as he look at the pictures on Taesan's phone. "I kinda missed those huge boobs tho...wait, Is that why you came later today than the others?"

"yeah, sorry men but I couldn't let that pussy go" Taesan said tipsy and most of the guys laught at his lame joke. Sunghoon really tried not to look at the damn phone, he really tried.

"Sunghoon where are you g-?"Jake asked.

Everyone started talking out over the photos while Sunghoon chung up on that shot of vodka, now already drunk enought (or he though) full of emotions that ran all over his body...envy, anger, rage, contempt, disgust...and all these emotions transformed into something impulsive when he saw himself punching the boy in the face without thinking twice, blood on his knuckles as taesan's nose was bleeding and a lot of questions were going through his head.

He didn't know why he had done it exactly, or so he wanted to believe as he thought about that stupid girl.

What Sunghoon didn't realize was when Taesan stood up and hit him back.

fuck, that hurts.

"what the fuck is your problem?" the bleeding boy said.

(...)

"fuck off" sunghoon sight looking at her in front of his door.

"I need your laptop, your sister took mine by accident and...

"Not my problem" He responded by trying to close the door in my face. "Why are you still here if she's not here? I see you more often than my sister in my own house." he sighed

"it's not my fault that you got a black eye and now you're in a bad mood" I whispered while the door was still half open about to return to his sister's room, but then I heard the sound of the shower, inside my head I thought it would be a good idea to borrow his computer, it would take less than ten minutes to look up information about the latest details of my homework.

With some fear I entered Sunghoon's room and observed my target on top of his desk, very sporty chic room, everything seems very tidy and clean.

Like him.

His laptop was almost closed, I opened it a little to realize what he was seeing, apparently Sunghoon likes shopping online, a lot of Sneakers, chains and rings and...another tab was open next to it, curiosity was stronger and I clicked on the new one, my eyes widened as I read the following titles searched on a porn site: gangbang, hardcore anal, creampie, hentai, latinas, deepthroat... all of them had the word non con in front of them and most of the videos were starring foreign women being penetrated strongly almost as if they were being raped, I felt the blood rise to my cheeks as I heard the woman moaning, begging to stop. It was actually a dark fantasy I thought I shared alone, but apparently I'm not the only one.

"what the fuck are you doing?" He slammed the lid of the laptop shut, his hands still had drops of water on them and I turned my face to see him with wet hair, no shirt and a towel around his waist in front of me, I sat up straight and swallowed hard as I noticed his brow furrow, clearly annoyed at seeing me touching his things. "You're a fucking pain, you know?" His voice was thick, the only time I'd seen him angry was on New Years when he had a fight with Taesan for letting me drink so much, well and last week when he showed up at the front door with a bloody nose and a swollen eye, he wouldn't tell us what happened and his sister and I cleaned his wounds before his parents came.

"Everyone watch porn, it's normal-

"It's not that and you know it fucking well" His tone of voice was manly, I noticed how the drops of water were still sliding down his abdomen, Sunghoon deep down scared me a little bit, we never had much of a relationship, he doesn't make any effort to talk to me, to get to know me, he avoided me or even talking to me at university.

"I'm sorry ,I didn't mean to look" I tried to justify myself and he just let out a mocking laugh, running his hands through his hair.

"shut up" His hands grabbed my wrists violently causing me to lose my balance, falling to the ground on my knees, I complained out loud, he sat on his bed, legs spread out, his hands still gripping me, pulling me roughly closer. "If you're going to open your pretty mouth to apologize, you might as well use it to suck my dick" His other hand grabbed the part where the towel was attached to his waist "wanna hear how fucking stupid you sound gagging around my cook" He pulled the towel aside, revealing his cock in front of my face, I gulped as he touched himself while looking at me in that state. "it's not my fault that you got a black eye and now you're in a bad mood" He said imitating my tone of voice in a mocking way and I froze, his hand leave my wrist to grab my hair bringing my face closer to his throbbing cock, feeling him hitting me with it in a vulgar way, it was humiliating but at the same time I felt an unbearable heat underneath. My lips brushed the head and I must be out my mind cause I began to lick it, wrapping my plump lips around it slowly "is this how you suck Taesan off?" I didn't have time to respond when both off his hands pushed my head, making me gag against his dick, taking my breath away with his movements, grotesque sounds were heard, I closed my eyes squeezing them tightly noticing how tears were appearing at the edge of my eyes, I hit his thighs looking for some reaction, desperate for air, his hands pulled me away from his member and I took a deep breath.

"I can't Breath-" I tried to talk while holding onto his thighs, he just smiled, enjoying seeing me like that, with saliva dripping down my chin, messy hair and watering eyes.

He caressed my cheek, patting me, fucking my throat raw again, repetitive movements faster and faster, hearing how his breathing was thicker and his moans were loud, he was a vocal man. "I need to fuck you right now" He said through his teeth, letting go of me, I could grab my things and leave, but reality hit me when he throw me to his bed. "Take off your shirt, let me see those tits" I embarrassedly took off the black jersey I was wearing, revealing that I wasn't wearing a bra, his hands kneaded both, put them together, played with them in the most shameless way "Wonbin was right" he mumble while his fingers squeezed my nipples hard.

"It hur-" I bite my lips.

"Fuck, I can't wait to see them bouncing on my face" He said letting them adjust to their original form. His hands went straight to my underwear, desperate to tear off that piece of fabric, and in the blink of an eye my panties were on the floor, his arms spread my legs widely, revealing my cunt, dessert for him.

He brought his body closer almost automatically, my hands were shaking, maybe if I kicked him or punch him he stop. I tried to lift my leg a little higher, but his arm just held it tight. "Stay still"

He handled my body as he wanted, he took his member and positioned it entering with a thrust, I wanted to scream in pain but his hands covered my mouth, his movements were abrupt, with each thrust I felt my tits move to the rhythm of his penetrations, It hurt so much every time he was so deep inside me. "Stop It h-hurts" I tried to talk to him, he laughed and continued moving inside me while I felt one of his fingers trying to get into my ass "What are you doi- no no" I tried to pull his hand away but he was so much stronger.

"Keep complaining and you'll only make me cum faster" He said inches from my face, eyes killing me, I felt him insert his index finger from behind, it was a strange, unknown sensation, I was uncomfortably horny. "You fuck those idiots and you're still so tight" I know exactly who he was referring to but the size of his cock inside me had me completely blinded, so much so that I didn't feel a second finger being inserted into my ass, I complained loudly almost crying . "Since you checked my porn history I guess you know I love fucking dumb whores like you, right?" His thrusts were faster, he was aggressively abusing my pussy, his hand was still covering me while the other removed his fingers from my butt. In one movement he takes my hips and with an inhuman rhythm he puts me on top of him "Ride me like you mean it"

I moaned pathetically loudly as I felt the new position, it was deeper, I felt him even deeper, inside my guts almost, his hands were still glued to my hips waiting for some reaction. I moved my hips, letting my hands rest on his chest, bouncing against his crotch in an almost possessed way, his hands helping guiding me, he turned me around, my feet were now resting on his knees, I was tired. He held me with both arms, holding me tight, feeling his balls hitting my clitoris with each thrust, Sunghoon at this point looked like a bull with so much stamina built up, most of the guys I were with didn't last even half as long, instead there was Sunghoon fucking me like an animal in heat.

"Ah-hmh! harder!" I moaned feeling dirty as my back was against his chest, his hands grabbed my waist and pushed me to the bed, his body still attached to mine crushing me, unbridled force made my entire body tremble, his hands found their way to my neck and squeezing lightly I burst into tears while I came strongly, creaming his fat cock, I felt Sunghoon talking to me but honestly I was too busy thinking about nothing, mind blank and throbbing wet pussy around cock.

"I knew you like it hard" he whimper slowing down the pace of his thrusts, almost stopping. His fingers caressed my ass, opening it while he continued pushing his body against mine now painfully slowly, he grabbed my hands and made me keep my buttocks open, took his cock out of me, I felt empty. "now comes my favorite part" he licked his lips "keep them open babe or I will make you cry" he took his hard wet cock covered in my juices and brought it to the rim of my ass, it scared me "did they make you cum too?" he ask moaning as he put his tip in the hole, exerting pressure, feeling how my butt slowly sucked his mushroom tip,

"No-t-they dont!" I answered being honest, no guy had bothered to read my body in bed, what I liked or made me horny, everyone always messed with me, lasted at most fifteen minutes and then they started checking their phone while lying down my side showing me some lame stupid tiktoks. "Oh my God!" I squeezed the flesh of my ass, closed my legs squeezing my thighs, muffling a scream against the sheets. It burns. Eyes wide open as I can feel how my ass was stretched by his big cook, feeling him smirking behind me, enjoying my whimpers. He sank half of his length into me, my nails dug into my flesh as I heard him moan, his movements were slow for thirty seconds, then he didn't care about my sobs. "slow-d-down h-hoon!"

Sunghoon was blinded by the way your ass sucked his cock every time he rammed you against his duvet, waiting for you to take your face out of his pillow, but when he saw that you didn't, all he had to do was pull your hair to hear you moan like the whore everyone he knew said you were. "Do you also let everyone fuck your ass or have I been the privileged one?" you felt it so deep inside, pumping your insides, transforming pain into pure pleasure, one you never thought you would like.

"N-no-o-only you!" I sobbed, noticing that hot sensation again, not being able to take it anymore, I released my hands from my butt to support myself better on the bed, my moans and the collision between his pelvis and my butt could be heard throughout his bedroom. "fuck me-fu-cking harder hoon!"

"who is better?" a thrust "me or that loser?" He asked me between moans

"you are so-so much better-than-them!" That fucking psycho smiles proud at himself as his movements did not stop at all, spanking me with each thrust, every time I felt the burning I squeezed something that I could not feel, he was edging me, making my butt move alone against him, seeming desperate for his cum.

And I was.

"keep bouncing that ass and I will give you my babies" He said between his teeth, although he very well knew that he was about to finish, he was full of it even in these moments. It didn't take long for him to slamming me down, given me a few last thrusts before he sank into me completely. I moaned his name so many times and in so many ways that later I would be embarrassed to see his face. The sensation was very overwhelming, heavy, thick, hot, slippery between my buttocks.

"fuck, look at you" Sunghoon said admiring me from above.

Ruined.

I was shaking between his sheets with heavy breathing trying to compose myself, after he came inside my ass I felt the bed lighten so I assumed he got out of bed, I tried to get up but I felt something wet between my legs, a towel.

"you bleed a little" he clean me with that wet towel feeling guilty, I avoided looking at him, letting him do something at least and then starting to get dressed.

"my skirt is stained" I complained in silence while I was dressing "I'm not going to go out like that, leave me some pants" I said, opening his closet, taking some black pants and locking myself in the bathroom.

I wiped my face thinking about how all this had happened, how I had just been fucked by Sunghoon. I tried to calm myself wiping off my make up with some water and hiding my body with his big clothes.

knock knock knock

I didn't response as if sunghoon obviously didn't know that I was in his bathroom keeping silent waiting for maybe he would leave.

wrong

"Why do you let these guys do whatever they want with you?" I heard him through the door. "You could do better, but you end up dating only assholes"

"What do you mean?" i asked back

"people talk, you know?" He replaid me "You look pretty sucking dick tho" He whispered "Use your pretty head and think" I grabbed the door handle opening it with the intention of starting a fight, the last thing I wanted at this moment was to have this type of conversation with him.

Sunghoon was leaning against the wall next to the door, he had also dressed up and looked annoyingly nice. "How can you trust someone like him?" he asked me again, looking into my eyes, trying to order his words, opening and closing his mouth wanting to say something.

"what are you talking abo-

"when you have me".