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janetbrown711 · 2 years

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To Be Alone (Again)

Sun Wukong hates being immortal for many reasons, but mostly with how death and his responsibilities never go away.

tw for Major Character Death and slight suicidal thoughts

Ao3 link

A world without Sun Wukong was something he thought about often– sometimes even fantasized about.

Of course he loved his unending eternal life with its peaches, its waterfalls, its friendships that last a lifetime and then they die and he’s left alone again, its…

…

Every couple of centuries Wukong would try the whole disappearing thing, but someone always saw him and of course the moment there was any kind of danger, mortals would search far and wide for the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, pleading for his assistance. He never had the heart to say no (not since the days of Tang Sanzeng) but it wasn’t exactly fulfilling anymore.

The longer he lived the more he understood mortality is what gave life purpose for mortals– without that what was Wukong living for? Whether or not Wukong slayed the demon, death would come for whole cities eventually. He had personally tried to stop death’s cruel hand many times, but it seemed he was only ever able to save himself.

And great heavens, what a mistake that was.

To watch people he cared about die over, and over again….

It had started with the monkeys on Flower Fruit Island– he was their king and grew to love every one of them as a proper leader should but as he went off and trained with the immortal sage Subhodi and gained his first “layer of immortality” and he started to watch as they started to get kidnapped and die off again and again…

He tried not to care, briefly teaching them to fight before deciding to mess around with demons and dragon kings, getting some nice alliances and some sweet weapons (like his staff– thank you Dragon of the East) and was invited to be a court member in heaven, but even that didn’t last long as he just made himself enemies with practically everyone there, which eventually got him trapped under that mountain for five hundred years…

Ah, classic Sun Wukong: Making friends with those who can die, and pushing away those who can’t, creating an eternal cycle of loneliness.

If he had a yuan for every time he either pushed someone away or got someone killed, he’d have enough for at least 500 human retirements.

…

The death of Tang Sanzeng, Ao Lie and Sha Wujing– heck, even Zhu Bajie– hurt more than Monkey ever thought a death could.

Tang Sanzeng had died peacefully, as he was owed. He lived a long life knowing he had done much good and reached ultimately enlightenment. The whole world seemed to light candles for Tang Sanzeng, but Wukong liked to think his and the other pilgrim’s burnt the brightest– especially the private altar in Flower Fruit Mountain.

On that altar, he also made a little origami man… it didn’t do him justice, but it made Wukong smile sometimes…

Ao Lie had decided his own life came to an end after seeing and helping to raise five generations of descendants, and had had a long chat with Wukong about life and of how long ago the journey was and how it also felt like it was just yesterday. Wukong envied him– a part of him wished he wasn’t stone and that he could have descendants and that he could just choose to stop existing– but being stone and immortal six times over meant those were off the table…

Wukong left a candle at his altar, as well as a little origami horse.

Sha Wujing died protecting a town from a storm caused by a demon who stabbed him right in the chest thirty times for his kindness. Wukong had all but torn the demon limb for limb at the news, and mourned on Flower Fruit Mountain for a hundred years.

A little blue man was added to the collection.

Zhu Bajie… Wukong never said this, but he always thought Zhu Bajie would somehow outlive him. Of course Wukong didn’t know how it’d be possible, but he always hoped for it anyway. The two were so similar and yet so different– it caused a rift in his reality when he discovered he had died after a demon attacked his family (Zhu Bajie had a family?!). The demon had been killed by Zhu Bajie but not before he was poisoned too, and they died together.

Wukong was the only one left to light incense and candles…

And a pink pig man finished his shrine.

…

He spent the next milenia alone, so… so alone…

He went back to Flower Fruit Mountain, but he locked his home, locked up his weapons, and hardened his stone heart until the next inevitable mortal banged on his door for his help. Then Wukong would grab his staff, kill the demon in one smack, and head back.

Though of course, there was Macaque.

Macaque, Macaque, Macaque.

Wukong thinks perhaps he once loved him, but Macaque had gone totally apeshit on him one day (no pun intended). The battle was legendary (according to whatever dweebus scholar was watching) and it seemed every milenia or so that he showed up always ended with bloody faces, bloody fists, and solidified hatred.

Sun Wukong always pushed away those who could understand him.

He’d spend centuries alone until some mortal needed him or Macaque wanted to fuck with him again. Any break in this pattern was a mistake– something that only ever hurt the Great Sage– something he should have never done.

…

So why did he agree to take on a student…

Wukong didn’t know what it was– his eager smile, the way he caused absolute destruction everywhere he went because he had absolutely no control over his staff or powers, or if it was his light hearted humor that reminded him of a younger him, but he… wanted to train him.

It was kind of fun seeing a kid that small pick up his staff and start swinging it around anyway– Wukong treated it like entertainment at first.

But then the kid gave up invincibility and started picking fights or jumping into some that had nothing to do with him.

It SHOULD have been the other way around, but MK was too… heroic. In that way, he was the opposite of a younger Sun Wukong. He always wanted to save people, to belong, to bring justice to the world. Wukong grew to admire that spirit.

He grew to like a lot of things about the kid– it started to hurt when he saw how often the kid tried to throw that away.

That was another thing about mortals… no matter how many times you try and tell them they often did stupid shit that often made their already impossibly short lives even shorter. Yeah, Wukong used to be (okay– IS) very impulsive, but he has immortality! These mortals don’t– why did some people always want to protect him-??? He was the protector dammit.

MK especially liked to protect him– and it made Wukong furious every time.

Like right now for example– when they were fighting a very, very, very old enemy of his– The Demon King of… shoot, was it Havoc or Confusion…

“KID!” Wukong shouted, as MK pushed away his mentor from the slice of the Demon King’s sword. MK tumbled to the ground with a thud, making Wukong gnash his teeth as he took the staff from MK and made this fight a lot more equal.

“Haha! Your mortal pet is even more foolish and impulsive than you, Sun Wukong!” The demon flashed his sharp teeth.

Wukong didn’t dignify the remark with a reply, instead choosing to make himself as large as the demon king, which caused him to start retreating.

It was then Wukong started to have fun again.

He not only blocked and parried, he went to sweep the leg, he whacked his back, he smacked him over the head and when he fell to the ground, he pointed his staff at the demon king’s neck.

“Any last words?” Wukong grinned.

The demon king chuckled.

“You can kill me all you want, Sun Wukong, but you will never get them back–”

The words barely hung in the air before Wukong put the staff through his neck repeatedly, finally killing him.

Wukong shrank down to his regular size and zipped his way on his cloud back to MK.

“Hey kid– what the hell was that?! I had it handled— you know I can literally regrow my head if it comes off, you didn’t have to do that,” He crossed his arms. MK groaned.

“Call it impulse,” MK chuckled and sat upright, clutching his side. “Where’s everyone he kidnapped?”

“A few mountains over. Are you alright kid?” Wukong examined his successor.

“Oh yeah– might’ve broken a rib or something– let’s just fly on over and save them,” MK assured with a big grin, and while Wukong didn’t know if he believed him quite yet, he let MK on the cloud and they flew away, with MK gawking at the Demon King of Havoc/Confusion(???)s corpse, which was starting to dissolve into maggots and other such unseenly creatures.

“You know I’m immortal right? AND invincible– you really shouldn’t be taking any hits for me– if anything I’M the living shield,” Wukong decided to scold him some more.

MK sighed, but quickly cringe in regret, holding his side.

“See what I mean? You mortals are all soft and squishy– I’ll get you to a hospital soon but this is exactly what I’m talking about kid,” Wukong sighed, picking up his speed.

“Y-yeah, I guess it was kind of dumb,” MK admitted.

Well at least he was getting it now…

“You can’t prevent his death forever, Wukong. Soon enough the Ten Kings of Death will find his name and he’ll be gone forever and ever and ever and ever—”

Wukong forced his cloud even faster, and before they knew it they were at the Demon King of Confusion/Havoc maybe–’s cave. It was a rather standard mountain from the outside, having a massive iron door depicting his epic successes and conquests over the years. Such boastfulness was standard for Wukong to see, but the depictions of his old monkey friends and subjects being kidnapped and eaten made him furious.

“You want to do the honors, kid?” Wukong held out the staff for MK to take as he dissipated the cloud. However, instead of standing like he was supposed to, MK fell to his knees, holding the staff in his left hand and his side with his right.

“Yo– MK– what’s going on? If you want me to take all the credit, you can just say–”

And that’s when Sun Wukong saw it.

Blood.

And lots of it.

It was all over the hand that had been holding his side, and was soaking his white shirt under his usual yellow hoodie.

“You goddamned mortals and your goddamned blood,” Wukong whispered under his breath, desperate to think of a way to fix this. But Sun Wukong was not a healer, no no no– he was a fighter. A poisoner. A destroyer of friendships, and the creature he hates most in this world.

“H-hey, it’s fine Monkey King, I’m totally fine– we gotta save those prisoners and then we’ll be home free,” MK grinned.

“No. You aren’t going anywhere but a hospital– there are probably demon guards in the prison– why did you have to take the shot for me kid?! I can handle this shit– you can’t!” Wukong went back to yelling.

“Impulse, like I said– now lets go,” MK tried to stand up, but cried in pain, which made Wukong’s alarms flare more.

“Stop trying to sit up! Jeez kid– who taught you to fight–?” He internally face palmed for asking such a stupid question.

“You did, genius.“

“The suicidally impulsive monkey king decided to become a mentor and is somehow surprised the kid became just as stupid as him.”

“I-i think I messed up my wrists, haha,” MK smiled, but beads of sweat were gathering on his face as he was starting to grow paler and paler.

“H-hey now, stay with me bud– I just gotta take you to a hospital, and then everything’ll be okay,” Wukong tried to scoop him up, but that made MK cry out again.

“ACK-! I-I’m sorry kid– I’m not a healer–”

“Of course you’re not. It’s never been relevant to you. You have never needed healing, so why bother learning?“

Wukong wished his brain would shut the hell up already.

“S’okay, really. I-I’m totally a-okay,” MK tried to assure.

That was another thing about mortals.

They loved denying death almost as much as they loved to chance it.

Wukong helped MK onto the ground where it was easier for him to breathe. He tore off the sleeves of his shirt and tried to wrap it around the wound, but all that did was make MK cringe and tears fall.

“Holy cow– we have got to get you to a hospital kiddo, th-this isn’t good, I can’t–” Wukong didn’t want to finish his sentence.

“Y-yeah, not my brightest move,” MK started to close his eyes. Panicked, the ever-so-wise Great Sage Equal to Heaven slapped him.

“Stay with me kid! I swear on the Jade emperor’s throne– I’m not going to lose you too–!” Wukong slapped a hand over his mouth, but the words were already said.

Fuck– he had said it.

He had finally said it.

A-and now there were tears.

Tang Sanzeng, Ao Lie, Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing…

And now MK.

God– curse his stupid brain for allowing himself to think of him like that– for getting so attached– he was supposed to know better than this by now.

“M-me too?” MK managed a weak smile. “Y-you… you love me?”

Wukong wiped his eyes. “O-of course I do, bud… I-i…”

He wasn’t supposed to say that either.

“Y-you’re my successor, MK. A-and with all you’ve been through– I-i… gah, what am I saying,” Wukong muttered that last part to himself.

He wasn’t supposed to be saying any of this. He was supposed to be guarded– why did he let himself get this attached to a mortal again– it only ever ended in pain.

“I-i love you too, Monkey King. Y-you’re like the bà I never had,” MK took the Monkey King’s hand.

Bà…

Wukong had always wanted descendants… He wanted to watch as his family tree continued to grow and grow and grow until even he couldn’t keep track of them all…

“S-sorry that’s–”

“No, kid, I-i… Just hold on, okay?! You aren’t going to die– not here, not now– hell– not ever,” Wukong swore, falling fully into the human delusion that death would stray if you shouted it hard enough.

“W-we have to free the prisoners together, remember? You and I– we’re right here, bud! C’mon, I’ll help you up,” Wukong said, forcing a smile and trying to stand but his legs were trembling, and he fell back down as his knees buckled.

“N-no, even better- the prisoners aren’t going anywhere– I-I’ll just go fly and get you a doctor– yes, yes, that’s what I’ll do– i’ll get a doctor,” Wukong started to summon a cloud, but MK grabbed his pant leg, squeezing it as hard as he could and crying.

“Please don’t leave me…”

It was a whisper that rang in Wukong’s head as loud as a firework. He instantly let it dissolve and went and put his student’s head in his lap. MK was shaking now, which only made his wound hurt more.

Shit– if only Wukong could remember any of those old healing sutras Tang Sanzeng tried to teach him a millennia ago… but of course, he hadn’t listened because when did Sun Wukong ever listen?!

“It’s alright, bud, I-I’m here,” Wukong forced a pathetic laugh, holding MK’s hand again and giving it a tight squeeze.

“I-i’m sorry I got in the way– Y-you’re the immortal one.”

“Bah– I don’t know what the hell I’m saying, kiddo. I’ve never done this before– I just– I just–”

“I haven’t done this before either. A-and I wish I could say I’ll do better next time, b-but I don’t think there’ll– ngh– be a next time,” MK breath started to become a lot more shaky too.

“No, no, no, don’t say that– you were a great student, You managed your impulses a lot better than I ever have– a-and if you think I’ve never been scared then you’re so wrong– I’m scared right now!”

MK laughed a little, but it caused him to roll in pain. “I-i’m sorry, I-i never wanted to scare you–”

“It’s my fault for getting attached,” Wukong laughed pathetically, wiping his eyes. “I-i know mortals are like this– I just…”

“Y-you really tore that guy apart there… thanks for the justice,” MK tried to wink.

“Stop making me laugh– this is– this is a nightmare,” Wukong shifted MK so he was being cradled in his arms.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t become immortal… I-i should’ve studied more o-or something– I never could just– focus, you know?”

“Of course I do, kiddo. I’m the Monkey King– I practically invented hyperactivity and impulsiveness. A-and you were great– If I could give you a piece of my immortality I would right here, right now…” Wukong hugged him a little tighter, knowing what he said was impossible.

“Thanks bà…”

“A-any time bud. J-just… just say the word and I’ll– I’ll be so fucking proud– I’ll compliment you so much even the Jade Emperor would be jealous– I’m sorry you ever felt so worthless– I’ve been such a lousy mentor i-i–”

“I-it’s okay Bà, i-it’s fine now. J-just tell Mei and ‘em I said ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’, o-okay?” MK hand was getting shakier, his grip looser.

That was another thing.

Mortals usually leave other mortals behind too…

But then they’d die and they’d die and they’d die and then it was like that original person never existed at all…

“I-i… I will…” Wukong didn’t know if he meant it yet.

“I-i love you, bà,” MK smiled and went to reach Wukong’s face…

But the arm fell halfway.

Wukong stared down in disbelief.

“M-MK?” he called. He set him down, giving his face a small tap.

“M-MK, stay with me bud– y-you still got a lot of training– I was just kidding before– it’s not okay, you need to come back– I don’t want to be all alone again– I-i-i–”

Nothing.

Wukong touched his son’s lifeless face, looking at his glassy eyes.

Wukong let out a cry so loud all the court of heaven heard and knew what had happened.

Wukong didn’t care if they knew.

Sun Wukong was on his own again.

#my fics #lmk #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #mk lego monkie kid #major character death #tw suicidal thoughts #angst #hurt no comfort #immortality #paaaain #tw blood #maybe???#idk it's not too detailed #god i am so fucking tired #i'm gonna regret staying up this late in the morning #oh well fhkdsa;fjdas;f #too late now

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garlic-sauc3 · 2 years

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It had been days since he killed him. The explosion still rang through his ears, perhaps it might have been best to not be so close when Rat knew that Arathain wouldn’t go out without a bang, yet it still got him severely injured.

It had been days since he killed him, but his voice still echoed in his head and haunted his dreams. He tried so desperately to stop remembering it, yet the blistering burns that covered his chest always violently reminded him.

It wasn’t until he visited the grave of his rival – dotted with small blue flowers with small yellow flowers, basic, but the intent was there – that he could pinpoint exactly what that feeling was, and why he hated it so, so much.

The flowers were wilting. The plant was in shitty soil, and the grave blocked out the sun in the afternoon. Although it was obviously put there as a remembrance – putting forget-me-nots on a grave couldn’t really be seen as anything else – it seemed nobody cared to water it. A tang of guilt rung out through his chest at the sight, even flowers planted on the site of his enemy’s grave should blossom. Maybe in years the flowers would spread across the ground, covering the hole where his ashy remains lay, but not in these conditions.

He didn’t know why he cared so much. He didn’t know why he risked getting caught by kneeling down and digging his silk covered fingers into the dirt around it, just to see the flowers less wilted. He didn’t know why his mind wandered to the best time to come back there daily, just to water the neglected flowers. He didn’t know why he was digging a hole on the other side of the grave, for flowers with a meaning so fucking stupid, as if he didn’t have a solid reminder of what happened scarred on him forever.

All he knew was the flowers needed space to grow, and the sunlight blocked by the grave in front and dry soil that his fingers could dig through so easily, would never let them thrive. Perhaps it was the regret that made him do it, regret of destroying something so beautiful, regret of letting something so valuable slip through his fingers. Maybe it was the view of the flowers.

The roots weren’t carrying much dirt on them when he lifted it out, the soil was still loose from when it was first planted only days prior. The dirt on the other side was still dry, still flat earth that was yet to hold the flowers, but setting them down to dig it felt wrong in a way. Instead, he held them in one hand as the other dug out the small pit of dry, dry soil. He needed to water it. He needed to figure out why this mattered. He was only gonna do one of them, though.

The flowers fit awkwardly, but he filled the dirt in anyway. He still needed to water them. He was still figuring out why he was doing all this. He was still ignoring the truth.

The water in his bucket felt colder than usual, but he tipped it around the flowers anyway, letting the soil soak in the moisture. He could faintly feel his eyes sting as he looked at the flowers, and it was stupid. Stupid that the flowers were what made it sink in. It was stupid how tears ran down his face. It was stupid that he could feel a phantom hand wiping them away. It was stupid that everything still felt so bitter days after killing him.

#hey look i can write again #wow thats so cool #fanfiction #garlic's writing snippets #content smp #doctor4t #mcytshipping #vaguely very vauguely #its only hinted at #i was gonna write about how the death was very poetic and then i thought of flowers and here i am #normal as i ever can be #i literally got into content smp today and i already wrote this wth is wrong with me #anyways its midnight for me i should sleep now #im gonna regret posting this in the morning as always but who tf cares i guess #arathain #he is like mentioned but not actually there #or is he

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