I saw a post a few months ago (and damn was it really months? In PLURAL?) that was a cracky dpxdc au where the LOS were making Damian clones but the clones kept getting snatched by ghost portals and dropped into Danny’s lap and Danny just goes “ok ig this is my life now” and takes care of each one until he has his own mini army of Damian Clones.
And I remembered it a few days ago, and now I've been thinking about it again. Because I love clone aus (see: clone danny au, the 'danny is thomas wayne' au) because it itches the part of my mind that loves exploring personhood and the exploration of identity and what it means to be clone.
(What do you do when nothing about you is unique? When your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, your voice, all the way down to your heart, all belong to someone else?)
(When it comes to nature vs nurture what of you came from your environment and your experiences, and what of you was already programmed into you from the DNA that made you?)
(What do you do to make it unique? What do you do to make you unique?)
And if I could remember who made that post I'd @ them right now because it was their original post that inspired this, but I'm just thinking of if the au only had One Singular Damian clone that fell into Danny's life.
(a read more because im apparently incapable of making posts that are less than 1k words...)
One Damian who knew he was a clone and knew that he was to either bring the original back to base or kill him to take his place, who was being trained the same way but kept getting compared to his original over and over again. Like an older sibling who you can never match up to. Who is still a child who craves adult affection and validation and praise, and can't get it because nothing about him is original.
One Damian who, at six years old, in a twist of fate is sucked through a swirling portal and lands in Amity Park, directly on top of, in front of, or in line of sight of one Daniel Fenton, half-ghost extraordinaire and local hero.
What happens next?
Well, for one, Danny recognizes him immediately. He would recognize the face of Damian Wayne anywhere because his best friend was ranting about him all week about Damian Wayne's environmental stuff he does.
And for two, he would recognize that the Damian Wayne in front of him was not Damian Wayne. Because Damian Wayne was a teenager. And the Damian Wayne in front of him is a child. Six years old.
Getting this not-Damian but also-Damian to go along with Danny is not, not an easy task. The tiny Damian is aggressive, regal, and at this point in time, six years old, barely understanding english. He also has a sword.
It takes all day and a google translator to get this Tiny Damian to finally agree to go home with Danny. It's a miracle. Seriously. A tried and true miracle. And its also only when Danny has to fight a ghost does he finally agree, saying something in arabic that Danny doesn't understand.
Danny flies them both home, carrying Tiny Damian like a koala. The ensuing conversation in his room is not any better. It is tiring, long, and exhausting. Tiny Damian is six years old, and every single thing he says when Danny asks where he came from is met with a poorly translated "that's classified".
Danny keeps an eye on the news. There are no reports of Damian Wayne going missing, in fact he's been rather public. Bruce Wayne is not one to lie about his children going missing, and Damian's secretive behavior and young age draws Danny to one conclusion: Damian is a clone.
He doesn't know why Damian Wayne is being cloned. Frankly he doesn't really wanna know, because whatever organization that did it doesn't seem too pure-of-heart if tiny-Damian's immediate attempt of murder when they first met is of any indication. But he's too busy taking care of his city, that he doesn't have time to deal with whatever shady business Tiny-Damian was produced from.
In the end though, he decides that this Tiny-Damian is not going back to whatever place he came from. Tiny Damian disagrees. It is a long, nebulous problem of Damian trying to run away, Danny catching him, and Danny pulling him back home.
In that time, Danny downloads a language app and starts learning Arabic so that they can talk to each other properly. Damian slowly, slowly, starts picking up English.
In that time, Danny also has to inform his friends and his sister about Damian. Tiny Damian is not a fan of this. That is another argument they have. Tiny Damian does not like Sam or Tucker for a long, long while. He only really "listens" to Danny, citing something in arabic that Danny still cannot understand, but has a repeated use of the word "lieazir". It's the only word that Danny can catch in a sentence immediately, because its what little Damian calls Danny.
Tiny Damian, in that front, is very interested in Danny's powers and in his parents work. He finds tubberware of ectoplasm in the fridge once while they're down in the kitchen and calls it something with the word lieazir in it. The other word is something that Danny later learns means water in arabic.
It makes him feel even more uneasy of whatever place little Damian came from.
It takes weeks for little Damian to finally give up on escaping, and then a few weeks more for him to almost entirely lose his spunk. Danny isn't sure what started it. It was as if he'd been flipped with an off-switch.
(Damian had been so confident that the League would go looking for him after his disappearance. He was wrong, and he is crushed. He is still a child, alone, in a country very big and very busy, where nobody understands what he's saying. He feels powerless, helpless.)
(The lazarus boy who calls himself Danyal is nice to him in a way the league has never been, and he's making an effort to learn Damian's language. But he leaves for hours at a time and Damian doesn't have much else to do but wait in this house for him to come back.)
(He tried leaving, many many times, but he doesn't understand the street signs, the roads, the people. He doesn't know where he is, and he feels scared in a way that he's not felt in the League. Danny finds him every single time, hours later when Damian is lost somewhere in Amity Park)
(And he never yells at him. Never. The first time this happens, Damian puffs himself up and prepares himself for this strange lazarus boy to yell at him. Damian feels like he's tripped on the last step of the stairs when Danyal doesn't yell at him.)
(He can tell he's frustrated by the tone of his voice, but when Danyal lays eyes on him he just looks relieved. He gets scolded on the flight home, but Damian doesn't understand any of it other than Danyal just sounds worried. Not angry. He gets a proper scolding once they get back, with Danyal typing into the google translator and playing it for Damian to hear.)
(This happens every single time until Damian finally agrees to stop running away.)
It's with Jazz's help that Danny finally realizes that Damian was depressed. It's with her help again that Danny tries helping with it. It's like trying to get a stray cat to trust him. And with everything else they've done, it takes a long time.
And it is so, so worth it when it all works out.
Tiny Damian doesn't really like Sam, or Tucker, but he likes Danny. And he finally starts calling him his name. His full name, but his name nonetheless. Danny doesn't bother correcting him. He's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. And it's endearing hearing Damian call him Danyal.
Damian in this time, also begins to take more initiative into learning English. And they teach each other words they know. Danny buys flash cards and writes the english alphabet on them, and then finds a book on arabic to teach himself and Damian. Sam and Tucker and Jazz start learning as well.
And then when Danny knows enough arabic and Damian knows enough english, and Damian trusts Danny, Damian tells him he's a clone. It's a quiet moment, late at night when Danny takes Damian up to the ops center to look at what stars they could see through the light pollution.
It'd be very easy for Danny to tell him, "I know. I could tell from the start.". He doesn't, it's not the time nor the place, and Danny's matured enough to know when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. He lets Damian, almost seven now, tell him that he's a clone of Damian Wayne. Lets him tell him why he was made, what his purpose was.
(Danny will need a minute later to process the fact that Damian Wayne originally came from some kind of... assassin league with an obsession with immortality. But he's focused on Damian.)
In the end, he puts an arm around Damian Wayne's clone and pulls him into his side. Thanks him for trusting him, it must've been hard to tell him, that he's brave for being able to. And if he wants to, they can find a way to get into contact with the Waynes and let Wayne know about him.
Damian hides his face in Danny's ribs and holds him tight, and tells him he doesn't want to. Danny leaves it at that.
Perhaps it would be more morally ethical to alert Damian Wayne that there was a clone of him running around, that his... uh, grandfather was making clones of him. Hell, Danny would have liked it. But little Damian has asked him not to say anything, and little Damian needs someone to rely on; someone he can trust.
And in the end, its not that hard of a decision to make. Danny knows little Damian more than he knows Damian Wayne, and while Danny likes to think he's a good person, he knows he's not a great one. Nor a perfect one. He cares more about someone he knows than someone he doesn't.
If Sam tries to argue with him about it, then Danny will just double down. If Damian doesn't want to tell Wayne about his existence, then it's not their place to say otherwise.
There's a lot more to talk about over Damian's cloning, like what he wants to do moving forward. But that's a long conversation not meant to be one taken late at night. Little Damian is falling asleep at his side, seemingly much more relaxed than he did before, and Danny wasn't gonna ruin that.
And later he's right, it is a long conversation, and a slow one. Talking with Jazz about it helps him figure out what to do moving forward, and their best bet is to let Damian figure out what he wants to do. So he sits Damian down at the dinner table the next morning and tells him before breakfast that he doesn't need to be Damian Wayne.
He doesn't need to learn all the same things Damian Wayne did. He doesn't need to do anything that Damian Wayne does. And little Damian is seven, and he's smart, but Danny still has to word it in a way that's not too complex for him to realize.
And in the end, what he says essentially boils down to "You are not Damian Wayne, you are just you. Don't be anyone else but you." and it'll take more time to drill that into his mind when all he's ever heard and learned from is that he was a copy of Damian Wayne, and he must act like Damian Wayne. But it'll happen.
It's a hard task when Danny's the only person Damian really trusts and he can't be by his side all the time, but he starts to warm up to the rest of Danny's family. The Fenton parents know of him, it's hard to keep a six year old child a secret for as long as Danny did without eventually having to come clean about it. His parents, much to Danny's relief, are very welcoming to Damian.
Damian figures out what he likes. Slowly. He's six years old, almost seven, and nobody expects of him to figure out who he is immediately. No child knows who they are right off the bat. So like any child he begins to explore. His english is better but still rough, and he struggles to read said language, but the Fenton family are happy to help even if Damian learns words that no normal seven year old does. (Many of them scientific.)
Damian realizes he likes stars, even if said interest is influenced by the association to Danny. Danny is all too delighted to tell him all about them, and in the process takes him flying out somewhere where the light pollution doesn't reach and showing him where constellations are.
Damian is six-almost-seven, so he doesn't find all of them, but Danny helps him figure out the easier ones. He tells him the scientific facts behind them, and then tells him about the mythos of the constellations. Later on they make their own constellations and make up stories about what they are.
(Damian adores Danny out of anyone else in the Fenton Family. The name Danyal turns to Dany. If anyone asks, Daniel Fenton is Damian's big brother.)
(He still refers to Jazz as Jazmine, and Danny's parents as Mrs. and Mr. Fenton.)
He realizes that, like his original, he loves animals, and he becomes vegetarian too. Sam is smug and Tucker is disappointed, but Damian doesn't super care about their opinions. ...he's getting better at liking them, even if he thinks Manson is a bit snobby and Foley is too much at times.
Its inevitable that the conversation of school comes into play. Damian can't stay home all day and he needs proper schooling. So after a long talk with Damian, they agree to send him to elementary school.
...And before they can do that the Fenton Family goes through with legally adopting Damian into the family as Damian Fenton. It takes convincing to get the administration to enroll him into the first grade without a proper schooling background.
(On his adoption form, Damian asks to change his birthday to the day he met Danny. Perhaps its not the most responsible thing to agree to, but Danny wants Damian to find himself. And its not like they know when his actual birthday was.)
And despite where he learned it from, Damian quite likes sparring. And he quite likes sparring with Danny in particular. Danny makes it fun, something that was foreign in his old league training, and Danny never hurts him. It's a lot like roughhousing.
Danny tells Damian how he got his powers, and how his parents don't know. Damian wakes up late at night to Danny sneaking out of the room (their house is not big enough to give Damian an individual room, and Danny agreed to share his) to go fight ghosts.
It's upsetting. Damian knows that Danny gets injured in those fights, even if Danny never comes home until after those injuries have been fixed up. He wants to help, and he voices it, and Danny shoots him down.
It becomes an argument, something that has happened less and less over the months.
Damian is experienced.
Damian is a child.
Damian knows how to fight.
Damian is mortal and fragile. He is a tiny, squishy human boy and the people Danny fights are ghosts who are near-indestructible. Who are intimately acquainted with death but also do not remember that humans are capable of it. Especially when they're fighting.
Damian says that Batman's rogues are capable of the same thing, that he lets his Robins help him fight.
And Danny says he is not Batman and he will not allow Damian to fight ghosts with him. Those ghosts will kill him and it will hurt. Dying hurts in a way that is terrifying and unimaginable and he will not risk Damian experiencing it. Not even Sam and Tucker help him in his fights most of the time, they are not able to. Not in the way Danny can.
Damian doesn't talk to him all day the following morning, but Danny does not budge on his decision. Damian tries to follow him out the next night, and Danny catches him and takes him back. Over, and over, and over again.
Until finally he gets intercepted by Skulker while taking Damian back home and is forced to fight him in front of Damian. (If it had been his choice, he would not have let Damian see it at all.)
It's not pretty. Skulker has new weapons, weapons that hurt, a lot. Danny is stuck between trying to take him down and trying to protect Damian from Skulker's attacks at him and from all the debris being created from the fight. It's with Damian's quick thinking and fast feet that finally helps Danny take Skulker out. But Danny is badly injured in the aftermath.
He doesn't have time to take Damian home and get medical attention. So he takes Damian with him to wherever he has his supplies stashed. He doesn't call Sam or Tucker or Jazz, and has to stitch himself up alone, with Damian watching.
Damian is quiet the entire time, he feels awful. Danny's not mad at him -- well, he is. But not because he had to protect him. He's just tired, and a little disappointed in him. Damian doesn't sneak out again. But he still feels helpless.
Danny tells him that that is why he doesn't want Damian to help him. Ghosts, his ghosts, are hard to fight. They are powerful, and his 'rogues' are mean. They will not care that Damian is a mortal child, if he picks a fight with them, they will fight back. And Damian is not immune to certain ghost powers like Danny is.
Damian is silent. He wants to help. But Danny is right: he is a squishy, mortal, living child. There is not much he can do to help Danny. Not without any gear to do it. Not without any powers to do it. He wants to help. He cannot.
Damian, almost-seven-years old, begins to cry. It is the last thing Danny was expecting, and for a moment he is at a loss of what to do.
Damian reaches for him -- in the Fenton family, physical affection is expected. Damian is getting used to it, but Danny is the only one he likes touching him -- and then stops, cringing away like he only just remembered that Danny was hurt.
He only cries harder.
Danny meets him halfway and pulls him into his arms, situating Damian between his knees from where he's sitting. Through his tears, Damian says he wants to help. He wants to help. He doesn't want Danny to get hurt anymore. He doesn't want Danny to fight ghosts alone anymore. He's scared that Danny will stop coming back.
Danny doesn't have anything to say to reassure him. Can't say anything to reassure him. It'll all just be lies. He's not going to stop fighting ghosts, he can't. He's not going to stop getting hurt, he can't. He's not going to bring Damian with him, he can't. He'd never be able to live with himself.
"I'll always come back." He says though, because that is something he can promise. Whether dead or alive, he'll come back.
When the tears finally stop, Damian doesn't say anything again. He sniffles, and presses his ear to Danny's chest, listening to the steady, slow heartbeat. If he puts his ear to his sternum and strains his ear, Damian would almost hear the low hum of Danny's ghost core, like a small dwarf sun.
"If you die, I'll drag you to the Lazarus pools myself." Damian mumbles eventually, his voice sleep-full. It's spoken in arabic, and Danny only understands half of it.
He laughs quietly, and smoothes his hand over Damian's hair. He hasn't had a haircut since he arrived, it's gotten long and there are curls beginning to form. "Okay."
Damian falls asleep shortly after, and with much consideration to his own injuries and Damian's sleeping form, Danny flies them back home.
It's hard to say, but not much changes in routine afterwards. Damian hovers close to Danny, more than usual. Danny still goes out at night, he still stitches himself up before going back, he still goes back home where Damian is waiting worriedly for him. Damian doesn't like falling asleep without knowing Danny is there.
Now the hard question is: when does little Damian finally meet the Waynes for the first time? There's plenty of ways to go about it, both easy and hard. Perhaps we go this way:
The Fenton family are visiting Maddie's sister in Arkansas. And Damian is dragging Danny around through the surrounding forest. It's his first time being in a forest this large since he moved in with the Fentons. Safe to say he is delighted by all of the nature, and he's dragging Danny along with him.
Danny likes the peace and quiet it gives him, he's found that he enjoys the rural area more than he likes the city. He's happy to let Damian point out every plant he recognizes, even if some of it is in arabic.
They walk around all day until Damian gets tired, and then at night when the sky is clear Danny and him go look at the stars. It's peaceful at first.
On the third day of their visit, Damian drags Danny out far from the house. It's slightly worrying, but Danny can always fly them back if it gets too late.
It's in the woods that Danny and Damian stray much too far from Alicia's house, and from there in the early evening that they run into Batman and Red Robin, both of them in rough 'just got out of a fight' shape.
Safe to say, it was the last thing any of them expected to run into. Damian and Danny had stopped at a small crik to rest, and the two vigilantes came through the tree line on the other side.
It was... quite the staring contest.
Damian, now seven years old at this point, forgot to mention that the Waynes were vigilantes when he told Danny he was a clone. But he was told that Batman was his original's father.
Before anyone can say anything, little Damian wraps his arms tight around Danny's middle and stares Batman and Red Robin down. His sharp edges have softened around the Fentons. But he makes no exceptions to anyone else outside of Danny's immediate social circle.
Danny's arm automatically goes around Damian's shoulders, and he looks between both Red and Batman uneasily. If they were here then it meant that there was something unsafe nearby. Danny did not fight the living, and he wasn't going to put Damian in the crosshairs of anything that does.
"Should... should we leave?" He asks, brows knotted together with a frown. He stands. "Is there something going on nearby?"
Batman suddenly grunts, and looks at him. "It's been handled." He says, and his voice is gruffer than Danny imagined it. Lower. Danny is not all that comfortable with that answer.
"Do you guys live nearby?" Red Robin asks, and Danny can't help but notice that he keeps looking at Damian. Warily. In fact, so is Batman.
He pushes Damian behind him slightly, and Damian's grip tightens on him. "Not... exactly." He says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My family's visiting my Aunt and my brother wanted to explore since it's his first time out of the city, I guess we wandered too far away if we're running into you."
There's no visible indication of whether or not both Bats reacted to him calling Damian his brother. But he can all but feel little Damian preen at the title, it makes Danny's mouth twitch into a smile as his hand finds Damian's hair.
"Would we be able to go back with you?" Red Robin asks, startling both Danny and seemingly Batman, who looks at him instantly.
"Red Robin." He growls out, and Red Robin throws Batman a look of annoyance.
"We are lost, B. They jammed the comms and our trackers back there and it hasn't come back on yet, his aunt may have the signal we need to let the others know where we are."
They end up walking back with Danny and Damian. It's silent, and awkward, and Danny has Damian walking on his opposite side so he's not near the vigilantes. Red Robin is fiddling with a phone but still can't get a signal.
Batman is silently brooding.
Red eventually gives up and shoves the phone into a pocket on his belt, then turns to make conversation with Danny. "I never thanked you for letting us walk with you. Thanks, by the way."
Danny blinks at him, and smiles awkwardly. "No problem, man," he says, "I'm uh, Danny." He glances down at Damian, who looks up at him with big green eyes, and Damian nods quietly.
He looks back at Red Robin, and says, "This is my little brother, Damian." And Damian peers over his side and glares at Red Robin -- and Batman, who looks over when Danny says his name.
"He looks like Damian Wayne," Red Robin notes, head tilting like he's inspecting him.
Danny huffs dryly, "We get that a lot."
Red Robin smiles at him, its a tilted thing. It makes Danny uneasy. "Where did you say you were from?"
"I didn't," Danny says bluntly, and he really doesn't want to tell them where he's from. Not when Red Robin was acting strange, but they're vigilantes and notorious for their detective skills. If he's suspicious, they'll look into him. "But I'm from Amity Park."
Damian in that moment, peers around Danny again and scowls at Red Robin. Full on scowls at him, as if it were the first months when he met Danny. "You're being nosy." He sneers, his hand squeezing Danny's.
"Damian," Danny hisses, suppressing a smile. Damian jumps like he's been startled, and looks up at him with big green eyes. "He's just being curious."
(He lets his smile slip through briefly, just to let Damian know he's not that upset. A tension leaves his little brother's shoulders.)
"But he is." Damian continues, a whine leaking into his voice. Danny jabs him in the ribs with his fingers, and Damian jumps, swatting away his hand with a squeak.
"Would you rather have us walk in dead silence, Dames?" He goes for Damian's ribs again, a grin stretching across his face as Damian jumps back again and swats his hand. "Hm? Hm? We could just walk in awkward silence for the entire trip back, I know you just love awkward silence, little brother."
(It's funny, saying little brother always sounds so uncomfortable when he reads it in books and watches it on tv. But Jazz always makes it sound so natural when she does it, and Danny finds that he sounds the same too.)
Damian continues to bat away his hands, but it's not enough to prevent him from squealing with laughter when Danny gets a good hold on him and starts tickling him. Danny's grin only gets bigger, and he swoops Damian up with his arm and holds him like a football.
"Is that it? Huh? Me, you, and two vigilantes walking back to Aunt Alicia's cabin in complete, utter silence." He says, "You won't get to hear any of my amazing jokes."
Damian's wriggling, trying to pound on Danny's ribs, he's giggling uncontrollably. It's the best sound Danny's ever heard. "Your jokes are awful! Laeazir! Put me down!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear.
(From the side, both Red Robin and Batman tense up.)
Danny chuckles, and through a short series of flips, has Damian sitting on his shoulders. "I will not. You're sitting up in air jail for insulting my hilarious jokes."
Damian tugs on his hair in revenge, harrumphing at him but making no move to get down. Danny squeezes his ankles playfully, and looks back to Batman and Red Robin.
Both vigilantes look at him like he's grown a second head.
....Red Robin looks at him like he's grown a second head. Batman just stares, and then looks away. Danny tilts his head at them, his smile waning. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost or something."
(Damian tugs on his hair again. A silent boo at him.)
Red Robin jerks, "Oh, sorry." He says, not sounding all that sorry. "It's just... I've lost count to how many times I've saved Damian Wayne from the occasional kidnapping and he's always been very... serious. It's just weird seeing a kid that looks like him be... not serious."
From his shoulders he feels Damian hide his smile in his hair, that's another thing they can put on their "Things That Damian Does That Damian Wayne Does Not" list. It started as a joke, but it's been surprisingly helpful for when Damian is questioning himself.
However, Danny is not a fan of the comparison, and he smiles widely, perhaps a tad passive-aggressive. "It's a good thing that my Damian isn't Damian Wayne then." He says, giving him the slight stink eye.
Red Robin picks up on it quickly, and nods.
The rest of the way is spent in idle conversation. It's oddly casual, even if most of the conversation is Danny talking about himself. It's annoying, but he unfortunately understands the reason. Secret identities and all that.
Damian interjects a few times, some parts to talk to Danny, and other parts to throw shade at Batman and Red Robin. Mostly Red Robin, who seems begrudgingly used to it.
("I'm surprised you haven't asked me much about myself." Red Robin says at one point into the conversation. Over his shoulder Batman glares at Red Robin. "A lot of civilians do when they're able."
Danny stares at him. "You're a vigilante." He says, frowning, "Isn't it superhero 101 that you don't ask superheroes for their secret identity?"
"You'd be surprised."
"Huh. Well, no. I'm not gonna ask you about yourself. I quite like talking all about me.")
When they finally reach the cabin, it's late into the night and Danny has moved Damian from his shoulders to his front in a koala-like carry. Damian's fast asleep with his head on Danny's shoulder.
His family was also frantically searching for him, and Jazz sees him first. She immediately turns behind her and yells "I FOUND HIM!". And then sprints over to him, his parents thundering not too far behind.
Both vigilantes are subsequently ignored as Jazz dotes over him and Danny, and soon enough so is his mom and dad. They're all talking all at once, asking him where he was, they were worried sick, did he know how late it was.
He shushes all of them, loudly. And whispers that Damian is sleeping. His family then immediately quiet themselves, and go back to yelling at him in a more appropriate manner.
"Me and Damian walked too far by accident." Danny finally says when he can get a word in, and then he jabs his thumb in Red Robin and Batman's direction. "We also found two superheroes who need assistance."
The speed of which his family all snap their heads over to the direction he's pointing is almost comical. As is all of their expressions of shock.
His mother is the first to regain her senses, and she sighs at him. She sighs! "Only you, Danny." She says, and Jazz snorts into her arm.
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Wassup folks I was having thoughts about Macaque and ended up writing a ficlet using said scattered thoughts about his character. enjoy o7
Wordcount: 2k
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Macaque wasn’t a very complicated person. If anything, he thought himself rather simple.
He liked what he liked, and he didn’t like what he didn’t like. He wanted three main things, and couldn’t imagine wanting anything more.
Macaque wanted food.
More specifically, he wanted fruit. He loved fruit. Having food was an important part of being happy. He knew well that being happy without food in your stomach was a difficult thing. He was especially fond of the sweetness and tartness fruits would give him. He loved to eat it, loved to find the best crab-apples, plums, apricots, tangerines, and peaches, to pick them out one by one and triumphantly show them off before peeling them or shoving them directly into his mouth. He didn’t mind digging for melons that were hiding under leaves, or hunting for sugar-cane and peeling off the outer layer with his teeth for the sweet bits inside, or climbing high up to get coconuts and smash them onto rocks to open them up. Shi Hou had smashed a coconut on his own head once, splitting it in half and getting the milk inside in his fur. “Like a rock, see?” he had declared proudly. Macaque remembered hiding his face in his arm to disguise his laugh.
2. Macaque wanted the sun.
Contrary to what a lot of humans, and even sometimes other creatures assumed, one of Macaque’s favorite things to do was nap in the sun. His fur was dark, his natural form of magic gravitated towards things like shadows and places under rocks no one could see, so many assumed he would prefer to spend his time in dark places and away from light. Macaque rather thought the opposite. He believed his affinity to shadows and dark cold places were the very thing that drove him into the sun to shake that uncomfortable chill from his bones and feel soft sweet sunlight on his skin. He loved nothing more than a nap in the soft grass with a light breeze, his stomach full of fruit and the gentle warmth of the sun touching his face and soaking into his fur. The only time he enjoyed shade falling over his face was when he looked up to find another source of light beaming down at him with the promise of mischief in its eyes.
3. (And rather most importantly,) Macaque wanted his friend.
His best friend. His only friend really; Shi Hou, later named Sun Wukong. Without him, the fruit was less sweet, the sunlight was cooler, and Macaque was sure he would be less happy. Before, Shi Hou, fruit and the sun had been enough, but after knowing him, being near him, and following him into all sorts of fun and chaos, Macaque couldn’t imagine being happy without him. He was a second sun, a light in all the shadows and dark places Macaque used to hide. He was his best and only friend, the person Macaque would pick out of hundreds to spend time with. The only one who could drag him out of his solitude to be with the other monkeys and join in on the fun. Sun Wukong was his person, and it made him happy to know it was just the two of them against the world.
Until it wasn’t.
Intruding on his happiness came demons, celestials, and every other groveling insect that crawled out of the bush to beg for his friends' time as Sun Wukong started to seek more power. It was fine at first, he made time for Macaque. The extra power felt nice, the reputation he started to build meant no one bothered them. He was gone now and again for increasing periods of time, but most of the time Macaque was with him, and he always came back so it didn’t matter.
(Until it did. Until he was gone for years.)
It was fine until those three joined the brotherhood: Azure Lion, Golden Peng, Yellow-Tusk... They pushed their way in and sat at the table, taking up space and Sun Wukong’s attention. But that wasn’t what really annoyed Macaque. Shi Hou always made time for him, always listened when he spoke, which wasn’t often around the brotherhood. No, what annoyed Macaque the most was the wars they spoke of. The battles they laughed about, the glory they spoke of to Sun Wukong until his eyes seemed to sparkle, something a little ugly underneath the awe; want, but not the good kind. What annoyed Macaque was how enamored Wukong was by it all. Rebellion, they spoke of. Pushed forward by bravado, Wukong left and came back with stories that made Macaque’s hands curl into tight fists and his fur stand on end. Talk of challenging even the Jade Emperor.
Isn’t this enough? Macaque thought again and again. Isn’t the fruit and the sun and me and you enough? We’re immortal now, isn’t this enough? But Sun Wukong was not Macaque. He was never satisfied once he’d seen the other side, once he’d had a taste of heavenly wine, once he’d sunk his teeth into the flesh of immortal stonefruit with juices sweeter than honey, nothing in the mortal world could compare. The peaches Macaque picked for him would never be enough. Macaque would never be enough next to Celestials and people who would never see Sun Wukong like Macaque did. He wanted a bigger title, sweeter fruit, “a better way of life,” he said, “for both of us.”
Sun Wukong slipped a celestial peach into Macaque’s hands and he could do nothing but stare at it and wonder how what they had wasn’t enough for him.
“I’ve seen things,” Sun Wukong said to him one night, the rest of the brotherhood passed out at the table. “The world is so much bigger than this, Lui’er. They laughed at me--at us.”
“Why does it matter what they think?” Macaque had asked.
Sun Wukong stayed silent.
Macaque closed his eyes and tried not to think about how his friend felt more and more distant on nights like these. He tried not to think about his own hand in pushing him to this place.
After everything, the brotherhood disbanded easily. The nights spent in camaraderie, the talk of glory, the hands on Sun Wukong’s shoulder and pushing him to the forefront of the chaos, praising him as a leader and their King meant nothing the moment he was under the mountain. They scattered like dust in the wind and, as it was in the beginning, Macaque was the only one left.
Sun Wukong was angry. After the initial I-told-you-so that resulted in Sun Wukong screaming at him, Macaque didn’t say much. He tried to keep his visits light. He tried to bring him things, tried to keep him company, but his old friend would accept none of it, his hands clenched, his eyes alight with boiling, barely contained rage and hate. It wasn’t directed at Macaque, but he still sat a distance away. He understood why so many feared him, but Macaque never had. It felt unnatural.
Sun Wukong had plenty to say on his own, filling the silence and Macaque’s six ears with threats of vengeance and violence that made him turn away and want desperately to press his hands over his ears or stick his head into the waterfall back home so the seething sounds of Sun Wukong's anger could be drowned out.
Secretly, privately, quietly, a small part of Macaque was glad for the chains and the mountain that held him down. He hoped it would be enough to calm his friends' anger and allow him time to cool down, time to think and see that there were more important things than power, that it didn’t matter what others thought of them so long as they had fruit, the sun and each other. But to his disappointment, nothing changed. No matter how many days passed, Sun Wukong’s rage remained, simmering and hot. It got quieter. Less threats and more growling and silently glowering until Macaque was sure he’d burn a hole right through the chains that held him captive with his glare alone.
Inevitably, eventually Sun Wukong directed his anger towards the only available target; his best friend and the one person who hadn’t abandoned him the moment he’d lost everything. The one person who came to check on him and visit in the place with no sunshine where the chill would cling to bone even hours after exiting.
Macaque took it for a long while. He understood there was nothing for him to do but rage and snap and insult. He understood the bitterness. Or at least he thought he did. He’d let him rage at him and blame him for it all, being trapped, being useless. He let him call him things and lash out at him even though it hurt because he thought it might make it better. He’d take it until his hands shook and he’d have to exhale to steady himself and leave through a portal, Sun Wukong yelling obscenities behind him. He’d always come back and act like nothing happened until Sun Wukong started all over and Macaque would sit until he couldn’t take anymore, leave and then come back later and repeat the process all over again.
But even a stone wore down eventually, and Macaque was far from as firm and unyielding as stone. His friend’s words chipped away at him little by little until he snapped back, angry at him for not opening his eyes and seeing where they were, why they were there in the first place. Furious at him for being angry at everyone and everything but himself, the real reason he was chained under a mountain and uselessly screaming threats at the cavern as if the echos would carry into the Celestial Court. He was angry at him for looking at Macaque and deciding he wasn’t enough.
“I did it for YOU--for US!” Sun Wukong roared at him.
And maybe it had started that way. Maybe it had been for him once. For them. Or maybe Macaque had turned a blind eye to the lies that had always been there. Maybe Sun Wukong had always been self-centred and selfish and Macaque was too stupid to see it.
He snapped back, because Sun Wukong was trapped, he was trapped and so he would sit and he would listen. He would hear every word he’d ignored, every warning Macaque had tried to give him, every accusation and hurt Macaque felt, he would hear it all and he would listen.
Macaque called him a demon. Like so many others before, every Celestial and human they’d come into contact with, he called him a demon. But unlike the others, Sun Wukong didn’t stretch his shoulder and let it roll off his back. Instead, his jaw dropped. His eyes widened. He reacted in a way Macaque had never seen him before. He saw him react and all he could think was ‘good.’
It was all a bit of a blur after. He couldn’t remember a lot of what he said. He stumbled and leaned against a tree. His hands were shaking, his arms were trembling. His feet were unsteady under him. They’d never fought like that before. A lot of it was a blur but Sun Wukong's last words, banishing him from returning ran clear in his ears. And that alone made him bitter enough to close his shadow portal and decide then and there he was never going back.
Macaque had only ever wanted three things, but now? He didn’t know what he wanted.
A lot happened after that. Bad things. Things he would rather not remember, but one thing was certain. The Six-Eared Macaque as he was, without the Monkey King was vulnerable. He was weak. He was all alone and many preyed on him simply for his association with the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.
So Macaque did all he could think of to do.
He built up a wall, a persona of sorts. He needed to become someone else, someone they couldn’t hurt so easily. He needed to become loud rather than quiet, brash rather than nervous, scary rather than soft. He needed to become someone no one would mess with or dare linger around. He needed to become someone powerful enough to say no. Someone who didn’t want things as stupid and simple as naps in the sun and sweet fruit handpicked from trees and being around friends. He needed to become someone who didn’t care.
But who could he mirror? Who’s confidence and brashness could he channel? Who’s lack of care for the people around them could he mimic and hold close and make himself believe he felt? Who’s personality could he take and warp into what he remembered, vicious and hurtful and power hungry? Who’s weapon could he replicate and clench in his hand when he felt an inkling of care for people who wouldn’t care for him when it really counted? Who could he mimic to become someone else who didn’t want simple things like holding hands with a best friend and picking fruit until they smiled?
Why Sun Wukong of course.
The most selfish person he knew.
(note: please don't slander sun wukong in the notes Macaque's opinions do not reflect the my own regarding the great sage equaling heaven-- hGLS;KJFD)
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