Chapter Text
MK was in so much trouble. Not only was his boss definitely going to fire him for not finishing his deliveries, but his Dad was also going to rip him a new one for not paying attention to his surroundings. Which, fair, if MK hadn’t been off in his own little world, dancing to his music and not particularly focusing on where he was going, he wouldn’t be in this situation.
Now, one might ask, what is the situation MK has found himself in? Well, he’s currently being hauled to the Celestial Realm . Again, one might ask, why is MK being hauled off to the Celestial Realm? Because his dumbass picked up the Monkey King’s staff and promptly whacked (and killed, oh Gods) a demon with it, which he just so happened to do in front of Nezha and fucking Erlang. He’s being dragged to stand before the Emperor. The Emperor, who used to be the Monkey King before he killed the previous Jade Emperor and took his place. The Monkey King whose staff he just picked up and smacked a demon over the skull with.
Nezha is nice to him, at least. He offered a tense, but genuine smile and made sure the glowing golden rope they had him in wasn’t too tight that it was causing him to lose feeling in his limbs. Erlang is fuming, of course, muttering about how the simian was supposed to remain celibate to keep the balances of the universe in check. MK wanted to die. He could protest, of course, because, technically , he wasn’t Sun Wukong’s son, but based on the expression Erlang wore, he wasn’t in the talking mood.
The Celestial Realm is beautiful. Vast, open landscapes that looked, well, heavenly . Nezha leads him along, which he’s glad for. If Erlang were the one leading him, the Celestial Warrior would likely be dragging him in the way one does a stubborn dog on a leash. The palace is vast and large. Several immortals stop to gawk at the three as they walk by. Well, MK walks by - Erlang and Nezha are floating- flying? Hovering? He’s unsure, but they’re not on the ground. Oh, also, MK is still holding the legendary staff, because neither Erlang nor Nezha could lift it and they needed a way to bring it to their Emperor as proof of their claims. Wonderful.
MK can already hear the absolute earful he’ll be getting from the many parental figures in his life. Pigsy’s loud, mean, but well-intended rant, Tang’s panicked screaming, and his Dad’s silent disappointment, pair with that unimpressed expression. His Dad never yells, but, honestly, MK thinks the quiet talking-to he gets instead might be worse. If he ever makes it back down to the Mortal Plane, that is. How long has it been? The times between the Celestial Realm and the Mortal Plane was drastic. Days? Months? He swallowed thickly.
“Keep your head down,” Nezha whispered as they came upon the frankly giant doors that led into the throne room. That led to the Emperor.” We’ll do the talking.”
MK nodded silently. Erlang sneered.” That damn monkey will answer for this.”
The doors swung open with a loud boom . MK didn’t dare to raise his head from the floor, clutching the staff between his sweaty palms and praying silently that it didn't slip from his grasp. The last thing he wanted was to draw more attention from the Emperor than he already had. The talking inside ceases all at once, several heads whipping around to peer at him and the two warriors. He wants nothing more than to shrink in on himself and die. He would use his Dad’s magic to escape but the rope seems to be blocking any of his abilities. The only thing still intact is the glamor he disguised himself with that morning, but it would need a touch-up soon or it would begin to wear off. He just hoped he’d be free and out of here before that happened.
“Erlang,” a sharp voice rings out, almost like a growl, but it softens.” Nezha. And…who is this?”
“I do not know his name, as he’s refused to identify himself,” Erlang shot MK a nasty glare with all three of his eyes. MK scuttled slightly and shuffled to partly hide behind Nezha, eyes glued to the floor.” But, he lifted your staff.”
The room broke out into quiet murmurs. People whispered between each other, eyes raking over the human-looking young man, the staff in his grip, and the rope that kept him from even attempting an escape. The occupants fell silent as the Emperor raised his hand.
“...This mortal boy?” he asked cautiously. MK could feel his eyes boring into him.
“He’s wearing some kind of spell,” Erlang didn’t even look at him this time.” I know a demon when I see one, though.”
Did these people not know what glamor was? MK knew there was a massive disconnect between the Mortal Plane and the Celestial Realm, but glamor had been around for centuries . It was one of the most common ways for demons to disguise themselves, especially if they couldn’t transform. It was a minimal effort spell - hell, you could cast it on other people . Higher ranking demons could see through glamor, but only if it was basic. MK learned the complicated way, because his Dad made him learn the complicated way.
“Your Majesty, this can’t be,” a new voice. MK peers up just slightly to see who's speaking - a blue lion celestial. He looked worried, which was understandable.” You’re the only one capable of wielding the staff. Unless-”
“How could you hide a child?!” Erlang burst, gripping his axe so tight his knuckles went white. MK flinched back at the yell, nearly smacking himself in the face with the staff. Nezha keeps him upright, frowning at his uncle.” You swore celibacy!”
“Don’t take that tone with me. And I didn’t swear anything,” The very air seems to still as the Emperor speaks, his voice low and angry.” I said I would never marry.”
“So, what?” Erlang growled.” You had a bastard instead?”
“No,” Wukong rises from his throne and MK stills. Oh, this can not be happening. While Sun Wukong doesn’t fall under the category of demon - or celestial, actually - he’s still powerful. Powerful enough to see through MK’s glamor.” It’s impossible for me to have children. I would never…”
He tapers off and they’re almost a somber atmosphere to the room now. MK glances up at Nezha, whose face is pinched in pain. If MK didn’t know any better, it sounds like Wukong had a lover he lost. But, none of the stories tell of Wukong taking an interest in anyone , of any variety. Erlang seemed to relax, bowing his head slightly.
“Still,” he says.” The staff is attuned to your magical signature. The only way this boy would be able to wield it is if-”
“ Don’t, ” Wukong snarled.” Finish that sentence.”
“Your Majesty,” the lion speaks again.” We have to be honest with ourselves. He’s holding the staff.”
“That is enough!”
That is enough. Wukong’s roar is laced with magic - magic that shakes and then breaks MK’s glamor. One instant, he looks like a normal twenty-year-old guy and the next he’s covered in dark brown fur, his feet crammed into shoes that don’t accommodate him at all, and a blotchy mask on his face. However, the most defining of his features is the six lotus-petal-like ears on his head. He feels his world come crashing down as Nezha gasps.
“Oh dear sweet Buddha-” Nezha drops the rope in shock and floats backwards. All eyes are on MK and the staff he's holding as the rope slips off his form, piling onto the floor.
MK takes a deep breath and finally raises his head. The Emperor is looking at him like he’s seen a ghost. It’s a stark contrast to all those stoic portraits everyone has, and the few lining the halls that depict him as a bloodied warrior of victory. Wukong takes a single step forward and MK freezes, hiking up his shoulders, eyes widening in terror. Forget his semi-adopted dads and his actual dad, maybe the Emperor himself will just kill MK.
He’s in front of MK before he can even blink. He inhaled sharply, scrambling backward only for Wukong’s hands to land on his shoulders and hold him still. He’s looking at MK, searching his face, golden eyes growing wider with each passing moment. MK’s breath leaves him as he promptly loses grips on the staff. In his effort to catch it, all he succeeded in doing was slamming it into the Emperor’s face . MK quickly stepped back into his shadow portal and promptly teleported away as fast and as far as he could.
Wukong lived a life full of regrets. Yes, he was the Emperor, but at what cost? The life of his best friend - no, the love of his life . If only he hadn’t been so dense those hundreds of years ago, maybe his life would be different. Maybe he wouldn’t be the Emperor. Maybe he’d still be on Flower Fruit Mountain. Maybe he’d be happy . He can’t ever remember what that was like, now stuck on that throne, surrounded by people who could never begin to comprehend the monumental loss he had suffered at the hands of his own hubris.
Macaque. Liu’er Mihou. The second Wukong laid eyes on him, he knew he wanted the six-eared primate in his life forever. The way his dark fur shimmered under the moonlight, the way his six ears glowed such lovely colors, the crinkle in his eyes when he smiled - Macaque had been a nomad until Wukong had annoyed him into a friendship and brought him back to Flower Fruit.
His generals were wary at first - and who wouldn’t be? Their mindless king had essentially just drug a dangerous and powerful stranger into their territory. But Macaque earned their trust. He was a natural with the cubs, who loved his little shadow plays, and it’s not as if he was defenseless - behind Wukong, he was the greatest warrior on Flower Fruit. And the King adored his new friend. More than he had been willing to admit, considering he banned anyone from courting Macaque because ‘his friends were off limits’. He shouldn’t have ignored that knowing look General Ma gave him after that decree.
Of course, Macaque was gorgeous and Wukong couldn’t keep every demon (or Celestial, in a few cases) away from him. He fought, though, tirelessly, because Macaque expressed he had no interest in taking on a partner. He hadn’t understood why it hurt so much at the time. Gods, he really was an idiot, wasn’t he? How could he have been so blind to his own feelings?
“You wrestle with your guilt, still, your majesty.”
Wukong closed his eyes and sighed. “Guanyin.”
“It was not your fault,” she came to stand beside him, hands clasped together in front of her abdomen as her elbows rested at her sides. She stared out at her pond, littered with lotus flowers.” You could not have known what would happen-”
“He didn’t even want to be there!” Wukong snapped and then cringed at the look she gave him. He huffed, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at her pond.” If I had just… listened to him, if I had just been a better friend, he’d- he’d be here .”
Wukong swallowed down the lump in his throat, reaching up to rub the tears away from his eyes with a growl of frustration. Guanyin was silent, her gaze never leaving the water. There was nothing she could say or do to ease the burden of grief that weighed upon Wukong. He had nearly torn Diyu apart looking for Macaque’s soul, only to be informed it never arrived and it was likely the Celestial Warrior that had landed the killing strike had also destroyed it in the process. Every realm shook at the scream that ripped itself from Wukong that day.
“You cannot continue like this,” Guanyin whispered.” You will destroy yourself.”
“What’s the point?” Wukong laughed wetly.” What is the point of being Emperor if I cannot have the one thing I want? If I cannot have him?”
“You did this for the good of the people-”
“I did this because I was selfish , Guanyin. Because I am selfish,” he interrupted, digging his claws into his armor with a snarl.” I did this because I couldn’t be satisfied with what I had. I did this because I’m a power-obsessed demon .”
Guanyin hummed softly. “He would not want this for you.”
“No,” Wukong murmured in agreement.” He wouldn’t.”
He wishes he could go back. He wishes he had never challenged the Celestial Realm. Cruelly, he wishes he never met Azure. Yes, he was the one with the inflated ego, but it was Azure’s words of grandeur that filled his head and fueled his obsession. If they had never met, Wukong wouldn’t be the Emperor. If they never met, Macaque would be alive.
It’s a horrid train of thought. It’s horrid, these feelings of anger that Wukong has. He barely tolerates Peng, and only because the idiot learned to keep his mouth shut about Macaque. He finds he can’t stand Yellow Tusk’s endless philosophical monologues. He hates Azure. No, perhaps hate isn’t a strong enough word. He loathes Azure. He can’t pin all the blame on his sworn brothers, obviously, because he had as much a hand to play as they did, but they don’t mourn like he does. They never treated Macaque like one of them. They never cared for him. They’ll never understand the depth of devotional love Wukong carried for Macaque - still carries.
“Your Majesty,” he nearly growls at the interruption. Can’t he be left alone to wallow in peace? But, of course not, for he is the Emperor, and his duty is never done. He turns to the nervous attendant.” Prince Erlang Shen and Prince Nezha are requesting to meet you in the throne room. They claim it’s urgent.”
That gives Wukong pause. If it had just been Erlang, he’d ignore the man. He was, after all, annoying as one could be. But Nezha was agreeing with him, which didn’t happen often these days. He frowned, waving the attendant away dismissively. He turned to Guanyin. “You’ll have to pardon me. It seems I have a matter to attend to.”
Guanyin smiled. “Be safe, Your Majesty.”
Be safe , she says, and he almost scoffs. He’s the Emperor . The only one in the universe who can hurt him outside of the Buddha is himself. And, perhaps, that’s what she means. He doesn’t dignify her with a response, simply summoning his nimbus and making his way back to his palace from Guanyin’s garden.
His sworn brothers (can he even call them that anymore?) are already there, looking confused. Wukong ignores Azure’s attempt at conversation and settles himself on his throne. It’s cold. It’s always cold. He can hear Nezha before he sees him. Keep your head down, we’ll do the talking. Are they bringing him a prisoner? That damn monkey will answer for this. He nearly rolls his eyes at the sound of Erlang’s voice.
The doors swing open louder than they should. Wukong is getting ready to reprimand Erlang for it, maybe try and bully him into replacing them if he’s damaged them again , but the words die in his throat. There, trailing behind Nezha, is a human boy, wrapped in a golden rope, holding Wukong’s staff . The entire room falls dead silent; Wukong can barely hear them breathing.
“Erlang,” Wukong all but growls, but he loosens up upon seeing Nezha. They might have their ups and down, but Nezha is the only real sworn brother Wukong has left. Well, outside of the Demon Bull King, but he rarely visits Heaven, on account of his wife absolutely hating the place.” Nezha. And…who is this?”
“I don’t know his name, as he’s refused to identify himself,” Erlang looks enraged at the notion of some mere mortal denying him his basic information. It almost makes Wukong want to side with the boy.” But he lifted your staff.”
Wukong frowned, eyes finding the boy. He looks rather timid, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, readjusting his grip on Wukong’s staff nervously. Wukong squints slightly, seeing something almost shimmer around the boy’s face. “...this mortal boy?”
“He’s wearing some kind of spell,” Erlang ground out, teeth gritting together.” I know a demon when I see one, though.”
The boy glances up, looking surprised, of all things. Wukong narrows his eyes a little more. He can see something lurking beneath the shimmer now.
“Your Majesty, this can’t be,” Azure stammers, wide eyes glancing between the boy and Wukong. It irks him how hurt the lion celestial looks. What right did he have to feel hurt of all things?” You’re the only one capable of wielding the staff. Unless-”
“How could you hide a child?!” Erlang shouted, clutching his axe. Wukong knew the warrior would never dare to throw it at him, but he gave him a warning look anyway.” You swore celibacy!”
“Don’t take that tone with me. And I didn’t swear anything,” Wukong inhaled deeply, the room falling into a soft hush as he spoke. The boy, he notes, visibly flinches and nearly hits himself with the staff. It’s almost enough to amuse him out of his anger.” I said I would never marry.”
“So, what?” Erlang presses.” You had a bastard instead?”
“No,” Wukong stood from his throne and he saw the boy still, entire body going taunt with fear. It makes Wukong pause a little. That’s not what he wanted. People shouldn’t fear him, they shouldn’t worry he’s going to hurt them, especially for something outside of their control. Wukong swallowed thickly, his voice losing some of its edge.” It’s impossible for me to have children. I would never…”
I would never betray Macaque , goes unsaid. Even if he and Macaque were never actually together, Wukong cannot imagine himself with anyone else. It’s probably incredibly unhealthy that he’s still holding onto what was likely an entirely unrequited crush he didn't even realize he had until the object of his affection was dead , but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He wants to collapse into his throne and order everyone out of the room just so he could sob in peace at the brunt of his own stupidity.
“Still,” Erlang begins, much calmer than before.” The staff is attuned to your magical signature. The only way this boy would be able to wield it is if-”
“ Don’t, ” Wukong feels himself nearly boil with rage at the implication..” Finish that sentence.”
“Your Majesty,” Azure’s voice is soft, like he’s trying to soothe Wukong. It only serves to irk him more.” We have to be honest with ourselves. He’s holding the staff.”
“That is enough!”
The entire room shakes with the fury of his shout. The boy, he realizes, nearly stumbles over. But as his eyes lock in on him, his heart nearly stops. It’s not the dark fur now surrounding his face, peeking out from beneath his clothes, or the tail that curls around his ankle in what looked like a self-soothing gesture - it was his ears. The six of them to be exact. He’d recognize the lotus-petal shape anywhere . Nezha drops the rope and backs up.
“Oh dear sweet Buddha-”
The boy lifts his head. His mask shape isn’t the same shape as Macaque’s - it’s blotchy and more closely resembles his own, Wukong realizes - but it’s the same shade of red. He looks scared. Wukong takes a tentative step forward, only for the boy to take a quick step back. Panic builds in his throat and he rushes forward, grabbing the boy by the shoulders to steady him as he almost topples over.
The boy’s face isn’t the same either. Still, Wukong can see remnants of Macaque - his soft round eyes, the furrowed brow when he was confused and scared. Even the way his canine caught on his bottom lip was just how Macaque would when he wanted to say something, but found himself too nervous to do so. Then, there was his scent. There was the aroma of plums, yes, just like Wukong had been dreaming of for centuries, but there’s more. Peaches, intermixed with the scent.
Lost in his daze, he doesn’t even see the staff coming down on him until it’s too late. He gets a face full of a seventeen thousand pound staff, making him let go of the boy. He reacts quickly, stepping back and sinking into the floor - no. He’s stepping into a shadow portal. He’s using shadow magic. A magic that had, supposedly, died with Macaque . There was no way this boy wasn’t somehow related to Wukong’s lost love.
The staff falls to the floor, cracking its shape into the marble with a resounding thud . Wukong stood there for a moment, stunned, staring down at where that six-eared monkey had just vanished into a shadow portal. The audience stares in shock and horror, a few whispers breaking out between them. Six ears. Shadow Magic. Could it be…?
“Find him.”
Peng sputtered. “What?”
“Find him!” Wukong turned to his supposed advisors. He feels a sob climb it’s way up his throat.” Find him and bring him back here!"
Macaque has a sixth sense for when his son gets into trouble. He just knows , even without his shadows whispering in his ears about tales of past and future. Perhaps, it’s an instinct given to him when he took that thrumming stone into his arms and loved him from the moment he laid eyes- well, eye on him.
Honestly, Macaque remembered very little of his life before being resurrected. He gets the gist of it - he was in the Brotherhood, they challenged Heaven, he died. Obviously, the rest of the Brotherhood succeeded in his absence, and while Macaque doesn’t remember much, he does remember how he feels . Just hearing about the Brotherhood fills him with a sense of reluctance. Clearly, their relationship hadn’t meant much to either of them, considering Macaque’s death was barely a footnote in history. Actually, his whole life is a footnote.
Then, there was Sun Wukong. Waves of pure euphoria and endless pools of inane dread flood his system, just at the sight of the Emperor’s portrait. A constant push and pull, like he was getting yanked back and forth, back and forth, slammed into the floor with a knee pressed into his back. Like flying and drowning all at the same time. It’s horrible. It’s the greatest feeling Macaque has ever felt.
“Mac?” he looks up from his steaming bowl of noodles at Tang. The scholar had been ranting endlessly about the uprising against Heaven, entirely unaware of who he was speaking to.” You spaced out pretty hard there for a second.”
Macaque hummed. “...MK did something.”
“That explains why I got a one star review about their food not being delivered,” Pigsy grumbled, glaring down at his phone in annoyance. Macaque sighed, picking up his chopsticks. He tapped them lightly against the counter, before snapping them apart and rolling the wooden sticks between his hands.” His phone tracker says he hasn’t moved for the past ten minutes.”
“Oh, that can’t be right,” Tang laughed.” MK can’t sit still for anything.”
Something is wrong. Macaque has that horrible feeling curling in his gut. He just knows . He frowns down at his noodles, gripping his chopsticks. He trusts his son. He does! But MK is a trouble magnet; even if he’s not looking for it, it’ll come barreling down on him like a stampede. Through no fault of his own, of course, Macaque would never blame MK, but it was literally like the universe was out to get him sometimes. It was a little concerning.
Tang and Pigsy fall into their usual banter about Tang’s endless tab he keeps racking up that Pigsy is definitely keeping track of. Macaque’s ears twitch from beneath his glamor. Dad, I fucked up! Well, Macaque can imagine who that is. He sighs, pushing his noodles to the side, towards Tang, who greedily takes it much to Pigsy’s chagrin, and moves to stand up. There’s a crash outside before MK appears in the doorway, frazzled and without his glamor.
“MK?” he asks in a panic. MK covers his ears and rushes towards his dad, tail whipping back and forth.” MK, what happened? Where’s your glamor?”
“Dad!” he cried.” I fucked up!”
“Yes, I can see that,” he sighed, waving his hand over his son and putting on a thin, simple layer of glamor. MK drops his hand, but he’s still anxious, fidgeting where he stands.” What happened?”
“I…got kidnapped?” MK said, but he sounded unsure. Pigsy looks like he’s about to have a heart attack when Tang spits out his noodles. Macaque’s eyes widen, but he lets his son continue.” So, I was delivering the noodles and I was kinda just vibing along to my music and not paying attention - and I know, I’m sorry - and I fell down a fucking elevator shaft and there were these demons gathered there and they attacked me! But then these super cool celestial warriors showed up!”
Tang sputtered. “ Celestial Warriors?!”
“I was trying to get away and they were all yelling about the staff and then this one demon duped one of the warriors and started coming at me and- and-” MK swallowed thickly, looking up at his Dad with pleading eyes. It reminded Macaque of someone.” I might’ve…picked up…the Monkey’s staff and killed a demon with it, I’m sorry!”
Macaque inhaled sharply. That was a lot to process. He stared at his son for a moment, ignoring both Tang and Pigsy. MK certainly looked frazzled - and he definitely used his shadow teleportation to get back to them. He was new to the practice, so it didn’t always go the way he wanted and Macaque instructed him to only use it in case of emergencies.
“Okay,” Macaque says slowly.” Is that all?”
MK’s wince tells him, no , that’s not all.
