Chapter Text
Macaque should’ve really known better than to lower his guard around the boatman who traveled over an evil river.
Tripitaka was taken, again, alongside Bajie. And the ingenious plan of luring the demon out of the water for Wukong to fight hadn’t worked. Shocker. As if any self respecting demon would fall for such an obvious ploy.
Macaque was really sick of this dumb world and its dumb monk-obsessed demons.
Immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, he’d sighed despairingly, I would know.
Wukong had perked up upon a different being’s approach however. The actual Black River God had come begging them for help as the demon in the river had stolen his pavilion or whatever. And his identity and stuff.
He’d mentioned that the demon who kidnapped Tripitaka and Bajie was the nephew of one of the dragon kings. Arriving one day out of the blue whereupon he took over the Black River God’s home and took residence himself.
It seems the Celestial Realm was just as useless and corrupt here as it was in Macaque’s original world. Considering how the Black River God had been denied help due to the relation between the demon and the dragon king. What was his name again? Ao Jun? It was something like that surely.
The Jade Emperor could run the world into the ground for all that Macaque truly cared. He’d been done with heavenly politics for quite some time now. The only thing of real interest was the fact Wukong had apparently beaten all of the dragon kings into the ground in the past and thus, held influence over them. Leave it to Wukong to only get benefits out of his dumb decisions, Macaque thought bitterly.
So Wukong blasted off into the distance after chirping at the three of them to not get taken too. Ao Lie seemed perfectly fine with the current situation as he began to graze. Wujing looked worried but also seemed to accept whatever idiotic plan Wukong had conjured up.
Macaque was much less amused.
“You seriously want me to believe his stupid plans actually work?” Wujing hesitantly smiled in response to Macaque’s scowl. Calm and collected despite the circumstances which Macaque couldn’t help but admire. It was a trait difficult to find amongst demons.
“They may not always work out but Eldest Brother is perfectly capable of remedying any problems that should arise.”
“When you say ‘remedying’ you mean hitting it until the problem is gone don’t you?”
“…perhaps.”
Macaque hissed out a breath and glared into the black waters in front of him. Stupid impulsive stupid Wukong. Not every fight could be won just by throwing his weight around.
The water shifted lazily at the top, reflecting back his scowling face as he thought to himself angrily, I can fight underwater. Macaque had bested the Eastern Dragon King of his own world, whose to say this overly pampered fish wasn’t someone he could also defeat in a battle?
Because that was your original world, a voice that sounded oddly like Tang spoke, and this new world has proven to be far more perilous compared to that one. Macaque shook his head, dispelling any vague memory of the gluttonous human from his mind. He knew it’d be risky to go fight himself. He wasn’t Wukong- Macaque would actually weigh all his options carefully before acting.
Of course, he’d stopped being what many would consider rational in his time after being revived.
“I’m sure Master and Elder Brother are alright. This is far from the most dangerous circumstances in which they’ve been taken,” Wujing spoke as he settled down next to Macaque on the riverbank. Interrupting Macaque’s spiraling thoughts and bitter feelings.
“It’s worrying how used to this you all are,” he remarked dryly, swiping at the water which was cool to the touch.
“It has become an unfortunately common occurrence over the course of our trip. Your arrival has marked a decrease in its frequency however, of which we are nothing if not grateful for,” Macaque snorted.
“Please, I’m hardly so remarkable. I’m only sticking around because of my injuries,” Wujing shook his head with a touch too much fondness for Macaque’s liking.
“Even so, Brother Shade. We are all quite fond of your continued presence, no matter how long you wish you to accompany us,” Macaque chittered at the soft tone. They all hardly treated him like the threat they ought to acknowledge he is. Of course he’s never shown that to them, but he was! Macaque wouldn’t even be so vexed about Wujing’s words if the damned horse wasn’t also nodding along.
“I think you all have forgotten the fact I’m a demon. I’m not one of you pilgrims either, so you can cut the ‘Brother Shade’ act already,” Macaque shot a glare at Ao Lie who shrugged it off with a judgemental look before continuing on with his grazing.
He’s got much more of an attitude compared to my Ao Lie, though when he attempted to recall how his Ao Lie acted he was met with insufficient memories to draw on.
Macaque huffed, of course I never knew my Ao Lie aside from passing glances. I suppose the little prince could’ve had more to him than meets the eye. It’d certainly explain where Mei had gotten her spirit from. Unfortunately the venom in Macaque’s tone slid off of Wujing like water along his scaled skin.
He might be losing his touch with how much his glares and threatening tones were being brushed off. Instead of backing down like Macaque had wanted, Wujing instead gave him an easygoing smile that was far too gentle for a demon the size of a shed.
“I did not mean to offend, Brother Shade. Despite not having always been a demon, I now share the experience alongside my other brothers in it. So I do believe I have some say in the matter. We’ve all done things we wish to put behind ourselves. It’s why we are on this journey in the first place. The bodhisattva Kuan Yin had granted us a chance to reach true enlightenment. Our Master sees the good in us, even when we’d previously thought there was nothing salvageable left.”
Wujing pauses, frowning a touch as he brings out his gourd to take a sip. Macaque’s ears twitch and he frowns.
“You don’t have to talk if it dries out your throat,” don’t think I haven’t noticed, Macaque thought sternly. Sandy had never had a dependence on water, nor did the Wujing of Macaque’s original world. Another difference between this world and his he’d noted down to himself from the hours spent simply watching.
Which now that he thought about it, sounded kind of like stalking.
…hm.
Wujing shook his head at Macaque’s- rightful -concern. He drank some more water before smiling at him. Wider this time, with more sharp teeth showing in a display that was equal parts sweet and unsettling.
“It is difficult to put into words what I truly mean, but Brother Shade- for one reason or another you have joined our pilgrimage in all but name. You had not been selected by the merciful bodhisattva but you had seen our misfortune and chose to help. You have not harmed any of us or acted upon the desire many other demons fall victim to when our Master is near.”
Wujing’s voice was a soft timbre as he spoke. Far more than Macaque’s heard from him in the months he’s observed and only recently interacted with the water demon.
He looked at Macaque as if he were someone worth saying all this to.
It made him want to flee and never return.
Wasn’t there a time when I despised the idea of leaving? Of turning tail like a coward, a traitor.
Macaque shut down that train of thought swiftly.
Still, he remained where he was. Because of my injuries, Macaque tried to reason with himself. The excuses only sounded vaguely convincing. Which was a decent accomplishment with how flimsy they were. Wujing looked amused by whatever expression Macaque must be pulling.
“Despite what you may think of yourself, you are kind. A trait I fear my brothers and even I lack to a degree. Elder Brother may argue that our Master more than makes up for it but I believe it is a trait that is much more vital than one may initially expect. Compassion is foreign in demonic affairs, as you’d obviously know. Life as a demon is harsh and unforgiving towards expressions of compassion. And yet you are kind. You are thoughtful,” Wujing chuckled. “Even now you worry more over my well-being than to listen to the fact you are being offered the chance at true enlightenment.”
Macaque didn’t know how to respond. When he opened his mouth, hesitant and conflicted, Wujing merely held up a hand. Still radiating gentleness as his heartbeat pulsed a comforting thump-thump-thump that drowned out all other noise easily.
“Please, Brother Shade, at least consider the possibility of formally joining our pilgrimage. It would be with great joy that we welcome you in.”
Macaque opened his mouth, frowned, turned away and shut it with an audible click. He wanted to dismiss him, wave off his words as if he were spouting some nonsensical jargon. As if. Macaque joining the scripture pilgrim? What a joke.
His Wukong went through this whole journey and enlightenment hadn’t even been a prize offered. His Tripitaka had grown to be an old man and passed as an old, devoted monk. His Bajie, Wujing, and Ao Lie all grew to have families and children.
Enough to have descendants that Macaque had seen and met first hand. No real prize had been given to them, aside from being forgotten legends told to excitable delivery drivers with too big hearts for their heads.
Nothing good ever came out of things like this. Even then, why was Macaque being offered such a thing? With gentleness, with care, with every little thing that Macaque had not had since that day so long ago. When the small comforts he cherished were buried alongside his first life. Liu’er’s life. Which was no more after that fateful day. He was no more.
Only a bitter imitation remained.
Enlightenment, such a funny sentiment. As if he could ever have such a thing. Even if the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could hold some peace for himself made something in his chest ache longingly.
He remembered a time, buried beneath years of torment and ice and hurt, when a young warrior’s only desire was to lounge around on his mountain with his king. Doing nothing all day aside from playing games and sleeping under piles of happy subjects with bellies full of fresh fruit. The only feelings he knew were of peace, comfort, home.
Then the brotherhood. Then the battle against the Celestial Realm. Then nothing because those memories weren’t worth lingering on.
Those days have long since past. Slipping from between his fingers like granules of sand would. Even if they weren't, Macaque as he was at present was no longer worthy of having such precious things. After The Lady Bone Demon, after Mei, the Samadhi Fire, MK— he sucked in a sharp breath and curled in on himself.
He was not worthy, not by a long shot.
And yet he felt himself be pulled closer, leaning against Wujing’s side as the ogre smiled down at him. His arm slung around Macaque’s back and side, his large palm settled against his side. A comfort in its own quiet way.
“I don’t deserve enlightenment.”
“Do you believe I do?”
“Of course.”
“Then why not yourself?”
“Because…” because I’m a demon. Because I’m cruel. Because I’m the type of person who’d try and kill an innocent human just to get back at Wukong like a coward. Because I’ve hurt so many people, people like Mei and MK and Pigsy and Tang and you. All of your counterparts. Because I’m not kind, or compassionate, or any of the other false things you’ve used to describe me.
Macaque couldn’t bring himself to say any of those thoughts. Instead he curled in on himself further as Wujing spoke. Misplaced affection tainting his words and making his tail coil around the giant’s wrist subconsciously.
“Brother Shade,” Wujing said so gently it may as well have slapped Macaque across the face with the sheer softness that exuded from him. “Not a single one of us believes we deserve enlightenment. Not Master, not Elder Brother, not Ao Lie, and certainly not me.”
“Then why are you all even here,” Macaque blurted out before attempting to ignore how insensitive his comment was. Thankfully Wujing didn’t seem to mind, looking far too sincere as a large hand ran over his fur.
“Because we’d all been given the chance to change. To repent. And I can think of no greater regret than to forsake the chance to better myself,” Wujing turned to look out at the river now. Contemplative as he carded over the fur that spanned Macaque’s nape. It was absentminded in its motion, but strangely soothing. He held back the urge to purr.
“Your reasoning is weird.”
“Perhaps.”
Macaque huffed, amused. What a strange demon. What a strange perspective on such a unique circumstance. Wujing continued to brush over his fur. Unpleasant it was not as he found himself nodding off at the careful touch. Slowly coaxing out small tangles and knots from the days of travel.
It felt too easy to lose himself. To find comfort in someone who resembled a person Macaque had despised. But this Wujing was not the same as his. Or at least Macaque had never known his Wujing well enough to discern their similarities. Sandy had been a lot more outgoing, still kind, yes, but he’d matched his friends’ exhausting eccentricity. It was a trait he was thankful didn’t translate over to this Wujing.
Macaque knew his hatred of the original pilgrims was unfair. Especially not when he was the antagonist in their story. The trickster. And yet his anger had not boiled out. His resentment lingered. Hate, it seemed, was a lot easier to cling on to when you were being tortured for a couple hundred years as a result of your poor decisions based around it.
But that hate never fully latched on to these pilgrims. They were the same people technically but somehow Macaque found it easier to see them as…not.
And he was fine with that.
Macaque had never been one that received good fortune. Not before his death at the hands of his closest friend, nor after his revival courtesy of a deranged demoness. His second death only seemed to prove this belief to be true.
Until he couldn’t help himself and stuck too close. Clung for too long. Stayed when he really should’ve turned around at the first sight of golden fur and the scent of peaches. But then the Samadhi Fire happened, Wukong, the river, and now he was here.
It was so easy, too easy, to think that maybe- just maybe, Macaque could find it in himself to belong somewhere again.
To stay, like he’d always wanted.
Macaque was broken out of his musings with Wukong’s loud arrival. He opened his eyes and glared at the offending demon from where he practically melted against Wujing’s side. Grumbling at having his not-quite sleep disturbed.
Wukong talked with some scaly guy by the river. Macaque didn’t care enough to pay attention to the conversation other than filing away the stranger’s name for later. Mo’ang said a few more things before leaping into the river, Wukong coming over to greet them. Eyeing both of them for a long moment as his fur began to not so subtly bristle. He grumbled at Wujing after a few awkward beats of silence.
“Traitor,” Macaque looked at Wukong in confusion before glancing at Wujing. The demon’s side was jostling him as he chuckled in apparent amusement. Macaque let out a chitter of annoyance that had Wujing murmuring an apology even if his chuckling continued. Rude.
“I assure you I did not intend to encroach.”
“I find that hard to believe with the way he’s draped over you.”
“Brother Shade does not maintain proper care of needs, his lack of sleep just happens to be one of the results of such neglect,” Macaque grumbled but couldn’t exactly refute the claim considering Wujing was right. He could however be bitter about it. Why do all these guys notice the most useless things, he groused internally.
Wukong’s fur had relaxed some but he still looked put off as he sat down next to Macaque and chittered. Asking. He was seeking permission to move closer.
It was tempting to refuse, to watch Wukong pout and whine and look at him with pleading eyes. Complaining and begging but never being genuinely forceful. A truly unique experience when it involved Wukong.
But Macaque wasn’t that heartless. Maybe if it was his Wukong, if it was the Wukong who’d spent so many years brushing his wants off, he would’ve been more callous and indifferent.
It wasn’t though. He wasn’t. He was a different Wukong in a different world entirely.
What’s the harm, Macaque thought with no little irony, the worst he could do is put his staff through my other eye. He chirped in agreement and Wukong beamed as he scooted much too close. Not so subtly shoving Wujing’s arm away as he pulled off a small leather satchel that had been tied around his waist.
Curious, he watched as Wukong pulled out a bundle of fabric from the satchel. Unfurling it to reveal it was a near identical copy to his own outfit. Macaque twitched as he subconsciously grabbed at the rags he was wearing.
“Look! I got you new clothes!” Wukong happily presented his gift with a wagging tail. Macaque stared, head tilted to the side in a way Bajie mentioned reminded him of curious birds. It was a simple garment like what Wukong wore, high quality silk, expensive trim, the works. The real point of interest in his opinion was the matching tiger pelt skirt.
“You got this for…me?” he couldn’t help but clarify, disbelief clear in his voice as the clothes were shoved into his arms. His ears were twitching and his tail had begun to wag a little behind him. Wukong let out a laugh, waving off Macaque’s shock with the ease of swatting away a fly.
“Of course! Did you really think we’d let you continue wearing your current stuff?” yes, Macaque couldn’t help but hiss in his mind. Unable to stop the way his claws ran over the silks as he brought it close and turned away from Wukong. Hopefully hiding his face behind it would prevent Wukong from noticing the shade of red his face was quickly becoming.
Judging by Wukong’s bright eyed expression, he hadn’t been successful.
“I- well, thank you. This was…thoughtful,” Macaque pressed himself closer to Wujing who was smiling down at the two of them fondly. Which did not help Macaque’s jumble of nerves at all.
“It was! If I hadn’t given you this now then Master would’ve absolutely gotten to it first. So really, I’m just that much more attentive,” anddddd there’s that arrogance I knew he was missing, Macaque snorts. What a record, almost had a full conversation without being reminded that I’m talking to Wukong.
Well, never let it be said that Macaque wasn’t one for being petty.
“Mhm, sure. It’s a little lacking though, isn’t it?” Macaque drawled, because he could. It’d always been fun to get a rise out of Wukong.
Said demon only proves his point by fluffing up like a startled cat and narrowing his eyes in what he likely thought was an intimidating way. As if, Macaque thought, I’ve seen you ambushed by rambunctious cubs before.
Though those memories were of his original Wukong, he felt they still applied.
“Wha- lacking? I asked the Western Dragon King himself for that outfit! It’s befitting royalty!” ah, so what you actually mean is you bullied the guy into giving you these clothes or else you’d beat him up and wreck his castle. How pious of you great pilgrim. Honestly, would Wukong ever truly change? Tripitaka sure had his work cut out for him. His already decently sized amount of respect for the monk grew quite a bit once he remembered just how many years he’d spend on this journey with his first disciple.
“And it does, but it’s kind of lazy isn’t it? I mean, you did just ask for a copy of your own clothes,” Wukong growled softly at his words. His expression twisting into a pout that had Macaque smothering a laugh. It was so easy to rile him up.
“I wasn’t being lazy! I wanted us to match!” which was a cute reason, Macaque conceded as he glanced down at the garment with a little too much affection.
It wasn’t original by any means but it wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever laid eyes upon. Macaque’s worn complimenting outfits with his Wukong before, far before when the only thing that seemed to matter was him and his best friend and all their little subjects. No one else but them.
I suppose I could indulge him once more, there’s no real reason not to after all.
“Do you…want me to get you something different?” Macaque glanced over and found himself greeted by a positively pink Wukong. Bashful was certainly not a word Macaque ever thought he’d describe Wukong with but it fit in this case. He was nervously picking at the grass and his tail was stiff and twitching from his nerves.
Macaque sighed and shook his head, standing up. Paying no mind to the curious looks Wujing and Ao Lie were shooting at him as he strolled past Wukong.
“No need. I’ll wear it,” Wukong immediately perked up. Bright eyes being the last thing Macaque saw before darkness overtook his surroundings. The shadow realm was blissfully quiet and wonderfully private as he stepped across the vast void. He allowed himself a soft laugh as he thought back to the way Wukong had shrunk in on himself. Looking uncharacteristically sheepish and ashamed when he thought his gift was being rejected. It was cute, which was something he thought Wukong incapable of being for many years now.
He looked over the clothes and found himself smiling fondly. They really were different weren’t they? So similar and yet so so different. It was almost like Wukong was scared of driving Macaque away, which had certainly never been a fear his Wukong possessed.
Macaque supposed it couldn’t hurt to try being a little more friendly if Wukong was this earnest.
———
Their travels continued after Tripitaka was rescued.
He’d been pleasantly surprised by the sight of Macaque no longer wearing his burnt, stained, and tattered clothes. Although he did question why he and Wukong were matching. Macaque just pointed to Wukong’s beaming face before climbing back onto Wujing’s shoulders as the idiotic ape began to boast.
It wasn’t a huge shift, if he was going to be honest. Macaque couldn’t pin exactly when it started but at some point Wukong had stopped being so…loud.
The observation was as odd as it was adept. Wukong had always been loud, boisterous. And he still was. But somehow he kept them to a minimum whenever Macaque was close. He’d do a quick glance around to gauge how close he was and a few moments after his voice would lower by a few notches.
Macaque wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t find himself pleasantly surprised by the lack of headaches through the day. Wukong had even shut Bajie up when he was whining about something and being just shy of ear-splittingly noisy.
…by hucking Ao Lie at him.
Suffice to say, Bajie, Ao Lie, and Tripitaka hadn’t been very amused by that little display.
He sure didn’t see any issue. It’s not like Tripitaka had been on top of Ao Lie when Wukong had given the horse an unconventional flying lesson. Plus, it shut Bajie up from whatever it was he was whining about. Macaque would certainly count that as a win. Despite the scolding Wukong was subject to he didn’t seem all too upset by the results. Bajie had begun to quiet himself- as much as the demon could at least -and Macaque remained blissfully headache free.
If Macaque had snuck Wukong a peach as a silent thanks, then that was strictly between them.
Macaque was disturbed from his nap atop Wujing’s shoulders by the screams of those damned to Diyu. Or maybe a dying city. Or an exploding mountain. Something horrific no doubt because there was no other explanation for whatever could make such a horrid sound. It occurred again and Macaque let out a sharp hiss as he pressed his hands over his ears. The sound grated.
Wukong immediately jumped up on his cloud, throwing out a quick, “wait here!” Before blasting off to go investigate.
Better him than me, Macaque winced as he rubbed at his ears. His fur slowly relaxed back down as the ringing from the screech faded. Tripitaka had startled so badly he’d begun coughing and Bajie had fallen from the surprise. Ao Lie was still standing but he spotted ripples of scales across his coat.
After his headache passed Macaque found himself eyeing the direction Wukong had gone in. The horrible shrieking sound hadn’t returned, but neither had Wukong. Normally he would’ve returned by now to at least fill them in on what the situation was. It wasn’t like Macaque was worried or anything, Wukong could take care of himself.
Unless he’s gotten himself in company of someone who’s strong enough to harm him, something whispers in his mind, just because he’s stronger than your Wukong- it doesn’t mean he’s completely invincible. Remember Red Boy? The Samadhi Fire?
Macaque flexed his claws and eyed the direction over the mountains again. He made to leap when someone grabbed him around his torso and spun him so he was facing them.
Macaque blinked.
“Let me go.”
“Nope,” said Bajie, who was rapidly becoming Macaque’s least favorite pilgrim. Holding Macaque up like some misbehaving cub. It was humiliating. Macaque would’ve been struggling harder if he wasn’t so dumbfounded by the sheer audacity he had. His limbs dangling as he glared daggers at the affronting demon. Even Peng hadn’t been so blatant in his disrespect towards me. And that bird was the incarnation of arrogance on two legs.
“Why not?”
“You’re still injured,” Bajie reminded him with a chastising look. “Big Brother’s got whatever made that terrible noise handled. He’ll come back once it’s been dealt with.”
Macaque snorted and his tail flicked. You of all people are the last person to be lecturing me on the merits of patience, he couldn’t help but think as he twisted in the grasp. Attempting to wiggle free as he spoke.
“Since when do you care about what Wukong says? Pretty sure I’ve watched you shirk his advice at least a dozen times,” Bajie went pink- or as pink as a pig demon could get -and he made an odd oinking noise that probably translated to something like fuck you. He snorted, how original.
Macaque just stuck his tongue out, try me, he mocked.
Somewhere by them, the horse let out a whinny of mirth. Tripitaka sighed from where he was sitting by Ao Lie, but he too had a small and amused smile playing across his lips. Wujing glanced at Bajie and Macaque before settling down on the grass.
“You’re all horrible,” Bajie said, completely deadpan. Macaque chittered smugly.
He allowed himself to be placed back atop Wujing’s shoulders. Settling with a pleased churr as Bajie grumbled and went to check over their luggage. Macaque curled up and huffed into Wujing’s shoulders as he glanced back at the direction Wukong had left in.
Fine. He’d humor Bajie a little longer. Assuage any lingering concerns the fretting pig may have.
Then he’d go figure out what was taking Wukong so long.
———
Macaque regretted a lot of things right now.
And by a lot of things he meant Wukong’s everything.
Macaque glared at his bare skin, nice Daoist robes, and turned to look at an equally human looking Wukong. Which was just wrong.
“I hate this.”
“Aw it’s not so bad.”
“It’s wrong.”
“A little,” Wukong chirped as he gave Macaque a cursory glance over to make sure everything was in order. Tucking his tail under the long robes. It was a surprise to find out that despite the sheer power this Wukong held, he struggled with something as simple as shifting his tail out of his forms. Privately, Macaque found it a rather cute quirk.
“I don’t like shapeshifting this much. I feel all…urgh,” Macaque grumbled as he tried not to shiver at the uncomfortable sensation of being different. Changed. Unlike Wukong, he didn’t hold any particular desire for shifting himself in response to his every whim. He used it when he needed to, during battles or when he was scouting, but no more than was needed for any given situation.
Wukong adjusted his sleeve before stepping back and tilting his head to the side thoughtfully.
“Well, it’s definitely not bad. Can’t say I don’t prefer what you actually look like though, you’re much nicer looking as a monkey,” Macaque’s face went red and he cleared his throat. Turning away in a weak attempt to hide the effect those words had on him.
“Whatever, let’s get this stupid plan over with already,” Wukong whined and any indignation he felt fled him at the- admittedly endearing -sight.
The most distinct part of this kingdom were the monks being forced to do work such as manual labor. When he’d arrived it was to Wukong shifting to look like a Daoist human as a group of monks pulled a heavy cart of rocks up the mountain side to the kingdom gates. Producing that awful shouting noise all the while. He watched as two Daoists that were supervising barked orders and reprimands. To which Macaque failed to hide his scowl and Wukong chuckled next to him.
“Don’t get so worked up about it. We’re going to go see what all the fuss is about,” Macaque still felt the anger simmering low in his blood, but chose to stay silent as he trailed after Wukong.
Wukong’s plan was, unfortunately, rather effective at gaining information. The Slow Cart Kingdom, as it’s called, was a kingdom where Buddhism was scorned and Daoism was treated with the highest honor. As the tale goes, some twenty years ago the kingdom was being ravaged by a drought, during which no amount of Buddhist prayer seemed to help. Until three Daoist immortals appeared and subsequently resolved the drought issue.
In retaliation for the crime of being mortals without magic, nearly every Buddhist temple in the kingdom was destroyed and the monks all enslaved.
All because some Daoist immortals were able to summon a bit of rain.
“This kingdom is stupid,” Macaque growled as they made their way over to the enslaved monks. Wukong turned to look at him, expression both curious and a little confused.
“How so?” he huffed at Wukong’s inquiry.
“They enslave Buddhists all because of some- some dumb story. So what if the Buddhists weren’t able to summon rain from prayer alone; they’re mortals! They don’t have magic or anything,” Macaque gave Wukong a narrowed look. “Your plan of making us go collect our ‘cousin’ is also stupid.”
Wukong chuckled.
“It worked didn’t it?”
“We'll only be able to free one monk.”
“I mean, yeah. But we can deal with the rest later. Plus, imagine being such lousy monks that you get shown up by a little rain,” Macaque scowled at Wukong and felt his form ripple in anger. Wukong paused and made to reach out, stopping at Macaque’s hiss.
“That’s not what I mean Wukong. Buddhists being enslaved? Revering Daoists all because these immortals happen to be Daoists sages? This is all wrong, no matter how lousy these monks may be. No one should be forced into servitude like this,” Wukong stared at him before he cocked his head to the side. It felt a little too much like being picked apart through sight alone.
“You’re…weird.”
“How am I the weird one in this scenario?”
“You’re soft,” Wukong said bluntly. “You’re like Master. All good and mushy even though you’re a demon. Shouldn’t you be above all this ‘feeling’ stuff? Demons enslave mortals and other demons all the time.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having basic decency,” Macaque snapped and refrained from adding; you of all people should know this. His mind swirled with thoughts of the Brotherhood. Of Wukong and Azure discussing heaven’s corruption. Of planning to right them, as noble and reckless as a goal that was, and how much Macaque longed to tell him no. That it was stupid, that they weren’t strong enough, Wukong wasn’t strong enough. Not enough to best the Jade Emperor.
Wukong’s muffled snort brought him back to the present.
“You’re so- pfft, so just- heh—“ Macaque glared at his giggling companion. If they weren’t currently disguised he knew his dark fur would’ve been bristling.
“What?” he snapped as Wukong’s giggling grew louder. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s- it’s nothing you’re just- hehe just- so adorable!”
Macaque stared.
Adorable?
His form rippled.
In what universe—
And yet he’d said so. Clear as day, giggling behind his hand in a rather unsuccessful attempt to muffle his mirth.
His disguise trembled.
Wukong shook his head as soft chittering escaped him. He reached over and patted Macaque’s shoulder awkwardly. Still giggling despite his best efforts as Macaque’s humiliation grew. Moving away from the touch as he felt his face heat up with every moment that passed without Wukong’s giggling stopping.
“Stop- stop you’re going to b- blow your cover—“ anddddd he’s laughing properly now. Bright and sunny. How annoying. Not that Macaque was focused on that as he was busy trying to hide how red his face had gotten. Stupid Wukong and his stupid words and just- URGH, stupid stupid stupid—
Macaque took a deep breath as he failed to collect himself.
“I am not adorable.”
“Yeah you are.”
“Wukong.”
“Okay okay fine,” Wukong finally managed to stop laughing as Macaque tried to scrape together whatever was left of his dignity. Which wasn’t much all things considered. He looked away, face still horribly warm. Wukong snickered softly, reaching over to pat Macaque’s shoulder with a churr of amusement.
“C’mon, there are worse things to be called than adorable,” Macaque glared at him.
“It’s humiliating. Not to mention completely ridiculous. No one in their right mind would call me adorable.”
“Sure, whatever you say. Although anyone who says otherwise clearly needs their vision checked.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re being stared at by the monks now and I predict we should go talk to them soon before they decide we’re here to punish them and start running,” Macaque’s head turned to find the monks they’d been heading towards staring at them and whispering to each other. He could sense their fear ratcheting up further at the sight of him looking their way.
Macaque sighed, rubbing his face as he let out an annoyed churr.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with already.”
So I can strangle you in private.