#implied freenoodles

From the moment he claimed his title, gold, weapons, heirlooms and jewels alike all fell nigh effortlessly into his hands. the finest silks draped themselves over his skin, and the oldest rings rested on his fingers. The king was a sight to behold when he chose to decorate himself with his fortune. fortunes whose value was beyond a mere mortal’s comprehension.

However, this treasure was different.

It was not carved from glittering gold or the finest Jade, but only from stone. not as awe inspiring as his staff or one of the many celestial weapons Wukong had wielded, but this was certainly the heaviest of them all.

he just couldn’t get over how small they were.

The newborn stone monkey wriggled in his hold, its small hands reaching up to the heavens in the biggest stretch they could muster, their tail curling in effort. A soft coo escaped the sage as he brought the babe to his chest. Blinking up at him with dark eyes, They seemed curious, tiny fingers wrapping around his own.

In that moment, Wukong understood why mortals had such strong ties to their children. He would trade every ounce of wealth he had ever held for this child in a heartbeat. He would fight all of heaven’s armies, sit another 49 days in the furnace, and even be willingly trapped under the mountain again just to have the cub wrap their hands around his calloused fingers once more.

This was bad.

He hadn’t meant to get attached. He knew what the plan was, he couldn’t deviate from it.

Could he?

No. No.

The destiny that awaited the two was unchanging. He had to do this. He wasn’t fit to raise a child. He had too many enemies. Too many people that would see the sunbeam as an opportunity for revenge.

He already had scoped out a perfect home for them. they’d be taken care of, he knew that much. Wukong was no fool. He could see the echoes of his old friends in their faces, the way they smiled at children being fed noodles by their parents, the blink-and-you’d-miss-it longing glances both Pigsy and Tang spared to the little ones.

He knew that they’d keep the cub safe. He would be wanted, loved, and cared for; a language Wukong didn’t speak. a language he was never taught.

Bundling the sunbeam up in his scarf, Wukong stood up. He just had to make it to the city and drop them off. simple as that, no more fuss.

there was a small sound from the blanket.

Glancing back down at the kid was a mistake. the eyes that gazed up at him reflected his own, filled with such wonder and curiosity. it made the sage's stomach twist in such guilt he had never known. oh heaven he felt sick. He couldn’t do this. How much had the ritual taken out of him? He hadn't felt this lightheaded since heaven knows when.

ripping his eyes away from his the child, Wukong summoned his somersault cloud.

Unexpectedly, a bubbling laugh left the cub at the sudden motion. For the first time in centuries, the king found himself frozen. unable to take the next step forwards onto his cloud. but the babe didn’t seem to mind, the swaying leaves in the tree above kept them occupied. laughter continued to pour out of their mouth, in what Wukong could only describe as a song.

Something faltered in the sage. He couldn’t tell if it was his resolve to keep going or his heart. His own laughter bubbled up in his chest, an unfamiliar warmth filling his veins. it felt as if someone had lit his heart aflame. but this was no fire Wukong had come to know. there was no smoke, no burning, only a warm ferocity growing stronger with each moment passed between the two.

He felt as if he held the weight of the world in his hands.

Sitting defeatedly back onto the ground, Wukong held the cub close with weak hands. The two watched the tree dance above them around the spring breeze, the babbling of the nearby river, and the bird song that filled the island.

fluttering down, a butterfly landed square on the cub’s nose. an expression of comical surprise spread across their face, much to Wukong’s amusement. the initial shock fading into excitement, the little one did not move so much as an inch. Well, not moving an inch was a strong statement. Wukong could tell that the cub’s tail was wagging ecstatically from wherever it lay bundled in the scarf.

a deep laugh was pulled out of Wukong at that. they’re definitely as excitable as he is.

The butterfly stretched its wings, opening and closing them in front of the little entranced monkey. their big eyes never straying from the blue and yellow patterns spreading out before them.

upon a stray breath of wind, the butterfly flutters its wings once more before flying away. both monkeys watching its path into the flowering forest.

The moment of silence made Wukong’s stomach twist again. What was he doing? This was just going to make it so much worse in the end.

the little one’s yawn snapped his attention back to them once more. Their small face nuzzling into his hand.

——

The familiar creaks in the cottage floor flooded Wukong with a sense of home. At that moment, he couldn’t discern if it was from his dwellings or the cub in his arms.

This was only for a few minutes. He was in and out just for a proper blanket for the child and not just his cape. they deserved that much.

and the seal.

Wukong’s tail twitched.

He knew that he had to place a seal on the cub to keep their glamours up. to appear human. keeping one's glamours up for an extended amount of time was never preferable. but Wukong knew that the stakes were too high to do anything else. If anyone made the connection back to him, it wouldn’t end well for the child. that didn’t make it much easier though, a seal this powerful would sap the little one's magic very efficiently to fuel itself. which in a way, was a blessing and a curse. the cub would grow up hopefully without any powers leaking through. but beyond his teen years, Wukong wasn’t sure how much longer the seal would hold.

Not to mention the side effects. Bouts of weakness, sensitivity to magic, a ghost limb in the form of a tail, and sleeping deeply frequently to make up for the constant upkeep.

He almost chuckled at the idea of the cub sleeping in no matter how many alarms they set. Poor kid would probably get yelled at by his boss in the future.

A sigh escaped the great sage.

Setting the baby down on his bed, he quickly turned to the closet and began rifling through junk to find the kid a blanket fit for a king. Since when did he have so much junk in here? It’s almost like he has no idea how to organize and just threw all the “soft stuff” he had in one closet.

sending a silent curse to his past self, Wukong just starts pulling everything out of the closet. It'd be easier to find a suitable blanket that way.

Sleepy gurgling emitted from the bundle. Wukong could feel the biggest stupidest smile spread across his face. He chirped over his shoulder back to them.

The sounds of delight that followed speared Wukong through the gut.

So, of course, the king punches himself in the face.

Like a reasonable person would do when experiencing attachment to a child.

He was reasonable.

His eyes flickered over to his broken mirror, taking note of the bruise forming on his cheek.

So unfathomably reasonable.

A chirp piped up from behind him. “Don’t worry.” He shoved another stack of wadded tapestries to the side, scanning through them. “I’m just a really punchable guy yanno?”

There was a coo.

“See you get it. Sometimes you just gotta punch yourself in the face. No big deal.”

Ah. Here we go. Partly obscured by the rest of the various unbelievably valuable yet discarded cloth lay a simple red blanket with golden edging. Gingerly picking it up, Wukong’s fur prickled. It had been so long since he’d held this in his hands.

It was the first blanket he’d ever had. He remembers the excitement of finding a mansion behind the waterfall, the way he picked it up and realized how soft and heavy it was. After that, the newly crowned king kept it obscured but close by. Even centuries later Wukong kept it within reach. It offered a sort of comfort almost nothing else could. He’d never admit it but he longed for it on the journey and his time under the mountain.

Wukong caught himself staring and sighed. Wadding the blanket up, he gave it one last squeeze, breathing in its familiar scent. It would keep the kid safe.

The coo that left the cub when he wrapped them in it was worth it. They seemed to like it as much as he did, as they quite instantly nuzzled themself even deeper into the bundle if at all possible. Wukong hummed in amusement. Settling down on the bed, he drew the little one close once more.

Now comes the hard part.

Flexing his fingers, he could already feel the crackling magic forming in his hands. The faint glow that radiated from his palms served as an object of interest to the tiny monkey. Eyes wide, staring intently at the rapidly forming seal. The delicate threads of magic weaving themselves around one another, spiraling into a form only their creator could behold.

The king looked upon the child. His kin. His family. Trying to take in every detail, every stray splatter of his facial marking, his tail, his little fangs and his pointed ears. Heaven knows it could well possibly be the last time he sees the cub in their natural form.

He hesitates.

They looked up at him with trust. This one trusted him. And he was about to break it.

His hands shook, shaking his head he steadied himself. There’s no other way. How is that so hard to forget? “I’m sorry.” He muttered. Without any additional warning, Wukong’s hands darted forward, pressing the seal to the cub’s chest. He could hear the impact of magic hitting the cub. Glittering eyes flicking shut, there was a pause.

The wail that followed wrenched Wukong’s heart out of his chest. Strong arms wrapped around the cub once more, pulling them close in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Shaking hands gripped the bundle, feeling the fabric wrinkle under his nails. The cub's raw gasps for air just to sob it out again was unbearable.

Resting the side of his face to the little one’s, the sage could see that the seal was doing its job. One by one any features implying the child was a demon slipped away, replaced by ones of a human.

The child seemed to sense his gaze and wriggled uncomfortably, sobs still ripping their way from their jaws in an agonizing wail.

Gently bouncing them like he’d seen mothers do, Wukong found himself humming. He wasn’t sure where he’d heard the song before, or who had sung it. But the remnants of comfort remained.

The spiraling sound of the wordless was song seemed to soothe the child, their sobs quieting and their little body sagging downwards in exhaustion. Further pacifying them was a hand rubbing against their back in a circular motion, leaving streaks of warmth in its wake.

Wukong found himself staring out the window adjacent to where he sat. Streaks of dusk and the promise of a full moon littered the sky and its dying sunlight.

A sigh escaped him, peering down at the now asleep baby that lay on his chest.

He could move. He could just go and give them away today. That would be the smartest thing to do as to not get attached.

He knew that.

He also knew that he was sinking further into the bedding. Wow that ritual sure did wear him out. He couldn’t possibly be in control of his movements right now, it was his exhaustion!

He was so good at this.

The cub shifted on his chest, crinkling their nose for a second before relaxing once more. He could stare at them forever.

His little light.

“I’m going to protect you forever.” Hands brushed through their thick dark hair. “I promise.”

Their hand squeezed his.

This was it. 7AM in the morning, just before Pigsy’s noodles open. Wukong felt as if he carried a mountain in his hands. If the mountain was babbling for food.But the king knew how demons imprinted. Through food. The cub’s first meal had to be with his actual parents.

Scanning the area as to avoid any curious humans, he crouched down just in front of the shop.

The flowerbed in front of the shop served as a makeshift crib. Plus, the kid seemed to like nature. Maybe they’ll just think it’s a game.

Carefully, oh so carefully, he lowered the cub into the flowers.

They kicked unhappily, though he reasons that most of it is from hunger.

They looked up at him quizzically when he pulled his hands away from them.

“I-“ his words get caught on something. Something sharp in his throat. “I hope someday you’ll forgive me.” Wukong’s choked whisper was almost lost to the early morning buzz of the city.

Standing up and away from the cub, Wukong abruptly turned on his heel and walked away.

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He knew if he did he’d just scoop them up and never let them go again. Not even when pathetic chirps called after him.

Ducking into an alley, his legs buckled into the pavement. A stabbing feeling pulsed from his chest, his head too light to move.

He could still hear the chirps.

Fuck. Fuck.

He could hear Zhu Bajie Pigsy open the door, complaining about the bird's racket until his eyes fell on the kid.

He could hear him calling for his counterpart, he could hear the pig demon pick up the baby. He could hear muffled comforting words leaking to the alley.

With a shaky breath, the sage summoned his somersault cloud and left.

—

When the sage arrived home it was pitch black.

He had gone flying for the remainder of the day, the sharp cold air acting as an anchor. The sensation being the only thing tethering him to reality at the moment.

But now he was tired.

Not because the gale carried away bitter tears for three hours straight, not at all.

It was just because of the ritual. Nothing more nothing less.

The night felt suffocating.

Wukong walked up to the waterfall, careful not to spare a glance to any baby monkeys sleeping beside their parents.

The creak of wood underneath his feet snapped him back to reality.

There he stood, home at last, in an unbearably empty house.

It didn’t exactly feel like home.

It was as if he’d planted a seed he’d never get to see bloom. He’d never see the beauty of what could have been.

“Monkey King?”