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starfanatic · 5 months

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Chamber of Reflection pt.1

Relationship: (Platonic) Zeus & Ares

Summary: Zeus thought about it for a moment. He loved Ares, in his own special way. He was disturbed by his violence, but fascinated by the skills it took to execute his aggression. He hated how much Ares looked like him, but loved how much he looked like his mother. His feelings for Ares were complicated.

It wasn’t complicated for Apollo.

Anyone who harmed Apollo would face the wrath of Zeus.

Apollo was kind where Ares was cruel. Apollo’s smile was infectious to many, his rays were warm and gentle. Zeus’ pride never faltered when he thought of Apollo. All the endless victories Apollo achieved were Zeus’ achievements, because he made this wonderful boy and only his mother could say the same. It wasn’t quite the same with Ares. He loved Ares like a father was forced to love a child. Zeus doubts he would care for Ares if he wasn’t his son, but he would love Apollo no matter the circumstances. It’s just not the same.

It never will be.

Ares is more psychologically damaged by the jar incident then in canon, and Zeus has to pick up all the pieces for a son he hardly knows.

Author's Note: IM INTENDING to have 2-3 parts, and I'm also posting this on ao3! I have a feeling this won't get attention, but I'm excited for Poseidon, HESTIA, baby Apollo & Artemis, and... Cronos. Also disclaimer that some of this isn't completely accurate to greek mythology, but if you have any sort of advice to give I'm happy to receive.

Zeus wasn’t sure at first who he was looking at when he entered the healing chamber.

Yes, it was Ares.

But it also wasn’t. Something was horribly wrong.

Zeus swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat, the lingering defeat in the air making him want to vomit. Ares was no stranger to defeat, Zeus even used to find it laughable when Ares tried to challenge someone more powerful and lose terribly. Ares' nature called for losses, but this defeat seemed to change him in a way Zeus didn’t like.

Ares’ chest stuttered as he breathed, like even breathing was an incredible struggle for him. Something that was meant to be natural, especially for a god.

It took a few moments for Ares to notice someone else was in the room, but when he did he stared at Zeus like he hardly believed he was there.

Zeus speaks first because he had a feeling Ares wasn’t going to. “Apollo informed me that you have been… difficult while he’s trying to heal you. Why?”

No response.

“Answer me when I’m speaking to you-” Ares finally looks back up to him, but not with the anger Zeus expected. He wanted Ares to yell in his face, for once. It felt strange to see his eldest son without that passionate fire in his eyes–it was like staring into a blank void. Zeus cut eye contact from Ares, uselessly staring at the wall.

“Why are you here?” Ares asks. His voice is small and quiet, almost like how Zeus would expect a mouse to sound like.

“I want you to accept your medicine. You’re neglecting your duties, your mother is worried about you. This has gone on for long enough” Zeus says. Ares stares at Zeus for a moment, like he was picking him apart in his head.

“Were you not worried?” Ares asks. He speaks as if it hurts him to do so. Now that Zeus thinks of it, it probably does.

Even more awkwardness is pumped in the air the longer Zeus hesitates to answer, because he wasn’t sure if he even felt any genuine concern until now.

“I was worried.” Zeus responds, but he already knows he sounds flat and dishonest.

“Then where in the name of your big brother were you?” Ares sits up with some difficulty, letting out a strong breath when he accidentally puts pressure on one of his injuries. Zeus doesn’t move to help him.

“They used to worry whether one of the Olympians would come down when they first captured me. Didn’t want the wrath of the King of the Gods did they? But after 5 months they realized I wasn’t going to be saved anytime soon, they started to treat me like a playtoy. Wanted to see what ichor looked like splattered on the wall. Or whether a god will stitch itself together after being pulled apart. Simpler experiments, they wanted to see how long I could survive without breath or food. They were a bit upset when Hermes and Artemis came, I believe. They were waiting for me to end my pain of starvation and resort to cannibalism. I used to feel comfort during storms because I thought that meant you were coming to save me… and you never did.” Ares was never shy to violence, but the simple recollection of his torture didn’t feel right to Zeus. It made him feel even more sick that the giants were right.

“We tried to save you as soon as we knew. I would’ve come down myself if it was necessary.”

“And it wasn’t? Would it have been necessary if it was Apollo? If Apollo was stuck in a jar, are you telling me you wouldn’t have demolished the giants with your mighty bolts?” Ares looks curiously at Zeus, wide eyes almost like a child but lacking the innocence that is supposed to come hand in hand.

Zeus thought about it for a moment. He loved Ares, in his own special way. He was disturbed by his violence, but fascinated by the skills it took to execute his aggression. He hated how much Ares looked like him, but loved how much he looked like his mother. His feelings for Ares were complicated.

It wasn’t complicated for Apollo.

Anyone who harmed Apollo would face the wrath of Zeus.

It never will be.

“No answer? The magnificent Zeus has no answer? Coward. You’re a fucking coward-”

“I didn’t come here to hear you whine about your brother again. At the end of the day, you can point fingers but this is the result of your own foolishness. You decided to fight not one, but two giants and for what? You are not the victim here.” Zeus’ hands tightened in fists as he looked upon his son–his arrogant son who was laughing in his face.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You sound more upset about me mentioning your favoritism to the bastard-”

“Don’t call him that.” Zeus warns.

“-than me being tortured! If you think you care about me, you’re deluding yourself. Maybe you need your ‘god of truth’ son to figure that out.” Ares expected Zeus to grab him and smack him around, or even just simply yell at Ares until his eardrums bleed. What he didn’t expect was for Zeus to start laughing. Ares laughs during arguments, not Zeus.

It wasn’t unsettling for the King of Olympus.

“I tried to be patient with you, but as usual, you tested me. What do you want me to say to you? That I wish you were something I could be proud of? Or that I wish you were a person capable of being liked? All you do is give reasons to make people hate you. You throw insults at your siblings any chance you get, and when you get humbled you throw tantrums that you expect me to handle. Have you ever wondered why hardly anyone on Olympus wants to be around you?”

“Where do you think I learned it from? My anger is your anger. My hatred is your hatred. Everything you hate about me came from you.” Zeus’ face was practically boiling hot at this rate, and without realizing it, he punched at the wall right near Ares’ head. Ares glanced at the damaged wall near his head and back at his father, raising an eyebrow at Zeus.

“Do you see what you do to people? You provoke them to the point of anger, and you like that don’t you? It doesn’t matter, because I’m sick of speaking to you, and I’m definitely sick of babying you. If I find out you’re refusing medicine again, I’ll add more injuries to match the rest of you. Do you understand me?” Ares stubbornly doesn’t respond, lightly tracing the edge of the fist-shaped hole in front of his face. It’s like he was fascinated with the uncontrollable anger Zeus feels around him.

No surprise there.

“I never understand you, Zeus.” Ares admitted. “I don’t think I ever will.”

“I know something you do understand. Violence. That’s what you like?” Zeus snatched Ares’ finger, bending it back at an unnatural angle. Ares stared down Zeus, as he wasn’t expecting to follow through with it.

“You will stop rejecting Apollo’s medicine. You will eat, sleep, do whatever is necessary to get better. I don’t care who or what you’re doing it for, but you will do it. I will not come back in here because next time I will bring the thunderbolt. Is that clear?” Zeus says.

“You wouldn’t do it. Mom would find a way to kill you again.”

“I’ve angered her before. She’ll get over it like she always does.” Zeus knows she will never get over it. She would unleash her fury upon anyone, even the undeserving, if Zeus even attempted to raise his thunderbolt against his son. No matter how much he hated it, Hera loved her son unconditionally.

“What a good husband you are. All the bastards running around Mount Olympus, and you want to smite the only legitimate son you have.” Ares notes.

Zeus hated Ares’ attitude.

He hated how bratty Ares was, how Hera constantly pestered him about Ares.

How Ares would run to Poseidon as a kid, as if Poseidon was somehow better than him.

How Ares continues to hurt innocent people in some misguided attempt of release

About how much he should care about a kid who can hardly respect him.

He hated how confident Ares was that Zeus wouldn’t hurt him.

And with a sickening crunch that made Zeus feel nauseous, Ares’ pointer finger is crushed by the strength of Zeus.

More pain shoots up Ares' finger as Zeus tightens his grip, putting even more intense pressure on the injured finger. Ares of course cries out in pain, but Zeus fails to listen. He completely tuned Ares' voice from his head.

Ares was actually crying now, the first time Zeus saw him cry in years. The tears brought on a sense of nostalgia, back when Ares was a kid. Every injury was life altering, any wrong choice of words would make Ares tremble and sob.

What a sensitive kid he used to be then.

He looked like his mother now more than ever, and Zeus was reminded why he hated seeing Hera cry. Ares’ eyes were like the stars that litter the dark sky, and it was heartbreaking and beautiful all at once.

Ares was used to pain, especially now. Zeus crushing his finger was miniscule to the pain he’s used to receiving.

It wasn’t the pain that brought tears to Ares’ eyes, it was the fact that Zeus was the one inflicting it.

Zeus couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, and instead looked down at the hand he was holding. They were healed scars all around the palm of his hand, very little faint lines that were hard to see. This must have been from when he was far younger than what he is now. Ares tried ripping his hand out of Zeus’ grip, but Zeus was always stronger than him. Eventually Ares gave up and decided to just close his fist as much as he could, hiding the scars from Zeus’ view. Zeus didn’t really understand why Ares was so adamant on hiding his scars, when he usually shows his scars off like some trophy. Then again, he never really understood Ares.

Zeus pried open Ares’ palm and picked out another finger. “Please just do what I say, don’t argue.” Zeus begged with his eyes for Ares to not be stubborn, so he won’t have to hurt him again.

He didn’t like who he became when he was around Ares.

“Okay.” Ares speaks finally. Zeus can finally breathe again, but he doesn’t feel relieved. What’s been done is done.

Zeus lets go of Ares’ hands, and it drops like deadweight. Ares won’t stop looking at him, and Zeus couldn’t handle it. He walks away from Ares, stopping at the doorway.

A chill fills the room as Zeus pauses, searching through his mind what he could say.

“Feel Better.” He says, before leaving Ares to his own devices.

It felt like a threat.

#greek mythology #Ares #Zeus #Hera #Hestia #Poseidon #Apollo #Artemis #I CANT WAIT FOR BABY ARTEMIS AND APOLLO #Hestia is going to be a big one for the next part #There will be trigger warnings for the next part #daddy issues

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hcdragonwrites · 9 months

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Banquet ( a @journey-to-the-au fic)

I had to split this into two parts because … it’s 16 pages and I did NOT want to swamp anyone with a wall of text. I’m finishing up the last bit later today possibly after work or tomorrow. I hope you all enjoy!

If there was anything that Heaven knew how to do, it was to throw a party.

In the most boring way possible to Willow.

The entertainment for tonight’s banquet of Heavenly Delight were four great white mares, set to dancing. The great beasts were dressed in robes so long they brushed the courtyard ground beyond their feathered hooves. Purple and gold, saffron and yellow silk was tied to their manes as they sashayed and side stepped in perfect tandem to the soft orchestra led by Gold Chimes Softly. The drums beat a second heart to the horses hooves. Everything was ever perfect and in time. Not a swish of a tail or a twitch of an ear. Willow heard the bells on the great hooves beat in perfect harmony. Other women from their seats applauded as the mares danced softly from side to side. To everyone who awaited the main course and delighted in the dancing, it was the most marvelous entertainment.

To Willow, she was bored to her wits end.

Not a single spark of spontaneous will, Willow thought as her hands settled in her lap. It was another feast her father had requested by letter for her to attend. Well her and Wukong who-even now after almost hundreds of years!- the celestial busy bodies still whispered that she, Earth Reaching Willow, must be under some sort of cursed spell, some beguilement to be married to him.

Sometimes the pasty nobles and smooth beautiful faces of the lady’s behind their fans and sleeves earned the deepest scorn from Willow.

She looked up to the sky. They were seated in the courtyard of sorts, where the pavilions were open to the air and backdropped by the perfectly cut ivy crawling it’s way up the trellis. The warm air and the music was welcome but also stifling in a sense. Incense burned not too far away, cloying with the scent of cooking food in the worst possible way. Willow saw that every star was in its perfect place, the constellations playing at perfection to please their Emperor. Another laugh from nearby caught her ear over the dancing horses. She turned and saw a few attendants huddled in a whisper, pointedly looking between other guests at the banquet. Seems their is rumor scheming going about. How dull.

I bet none of them have witnessed the beauty of a star shower from earth.

She hid it well however, her scorn. Willow couldn’t understand how anyone would choose Heaven over the ever changing earth below. None of these thoughts made themselves visible on her face however. Schooled and taught, bred to peaceful serenity, Willow let nothing ripple the calm of her outward appearance. As cool as a northern star, as serene as a flower in a vase.

Captive peace was hardly true peace. It was stagnation. It was the loss of what made the peace worthwhile. Willow had experienced that feeling: of tumbling in the grass, the heat of the fire as a lightning strike burned a forest down, of the sea and its salty spray in a storm. Willow had felt the movement of a world and it had caught her and held her constantly in its motion.

She took a sip of wine to hide her mouth as it began to slip into a frown. The wine may be of the best quality, brewed by the greatest hands and purified in the finest crystal, but it would never compare to the joy of the toasts her earthen family held in their patch of paradise. Of how when Ba got into his cups he would challenge his sister Ma to a duel of jokes and japes. The music made by Sweet, a kind little monkey, was a better tune and full of more life then Gold Chimes Softly well placed and organized orchestra. Sweet could play a jaunty tune upon their flute, while the rest of his little musician group followed along. They could whip the troupe into a frenzy of dancing and table jumping. Willow had danced before, controlled and reserved like the Mares in their bells and ribbons. But dancing within her husband's court had been an experience she never would have imagined missing. The dancing wildness and stamping feet, the spinning from partner to small partner, the joy that filled the air and the laughter. It had been better than star wine - it had been an intoxication that had left her heart drumming and face smiling wide.

The horses finished their beautiful dance and the court clapped. Willow clapped too. The mares did wonderfully. It was not their fault that the dance felt too restrained, too controlled.

Her father was happy to have her home. Willow could tell by the very evident glances down to his daughters from his seat at the head of the table. He had all of his family arrayed about him, basking. Willow made polite conversation that only scraped surface level with her sisters and the passing women who came to visit her seat. Willow complemented the lady’s jewels and colored gowns. To the men she disarmed a hundred pointed comments that were trying to dig beneath and get to the root of what would be tender and delectable tea to spill in court.

That great sage- he drinks with a gusto! Is it always this way?

Translation - is he a drunk ?

My what clothes. Such a unique style it must have been picked up in his travels!

Translation: He dresses like a Savage. Is He a Savage to you?

Willow had almost slapped another adviser who had pointedly remarked on the lack of children they had and questioned Wukongs ability to perform.

Her sisters, oh her clever sisters, had rallied to her defense in the most courtly way they could: they turned him into a piece of gossip to throw back to court.

“Did you hear?” Wind Over Sea stage whispered to Autumn Leaves Falling.

“Oh do tell!” Autumn Leaves Falling flashed her most wonderous smile, catching the Advisor in her trap.

“Seems that Moon Shadowed Clouds husband has been kicked out of their bedroom!” Wind replied, making direct eye contact with the Advisor.

“How terribly pitiful!” Weaves the Clouds remarked from her cushion beside the other sisters. The Jade Emperor watched from above, keeping himself out of the gossip.

“Wasn’t he caught drinking down in one of the mortal brothels ?” Autumn added, her eyes slashing toward the advisor.

“I heard it was on his Wife’s birthday to boot!” Winter Frosted Grace sniffed, setting her cup of tea down.

Her sisters turned in unison to stare down the Advisor with such cat like intensity.

“For shame!” Little Weaver Girl, the youngest of the brood of women, said loud enough for the court to hear. Little could get away with being louder than the rest- she was adored by their father and was the master weaver of heaven. Her creations had been sought after by all the courts when their father had worn one of her robes that Little had made. “Trying to twist your bad fortune onto my sister.”

The advisor, of course, made a swift exit with red ears and wounded pride.

Willow was thankful for her sisters. They alone understood that Willow, for whatever reason, had found comfort with Wukong and was truly happy. They didn’t see why she wished to remain down among the earthly mortals. Her happiness was what they valued and, like a streak of tigers, would defend with witty claws and well disguised barbs any that fancied a go at making court gossip from the Emperors family.

Willow wished for the upteenth time that she could bring the lot of them to their mountain. To see what she saw. She knew deep down that none of them would really understand. Except for Little. Her youngest sister often snuck from the court to watch the common people live their lives and to see the other mortal weavers of the world. Little would love their mountain. She began to think of Flower Fruit Mountain as theirs - her and Wukongs. It Held so many memories- so many joys and sorrows.

Where was Wukong?

Willow was surprised he had been absent so long. Wukong was still a bit unaccustomed to the Celestial workings of the court and it’s people. Even after attaining buddhahood and becoming an enlightened master, Willow knew that the gossip surrounding them would never die out. It was tiresome to interact with people who still brought things up from almost centuries ago.

She cast her gaze about for him and saw a flash of his red fur—

And his teeth.

Willows stomach fell, like a falcon folding her wings for a dive. Straight to the bottom of her soul

Wukong was surrounded by a swath of richly dressed courtiers, lords and men of the Palace. They kept a respectful courtly distance but Willow knew it was too close. Her dear friend was giving all the warnings she had learned over the centuries together to read. His eyebrows had been raised at the beginning of her watching but now they lowered, the teeth on full display. A smile of aggression. A smile that said ‘I take offense’. He felt accosted and would soon act upon it. For all the calm that had been taught, her husband could not forget that he was a creature that had to fight for so long.

Oh these utter fools, Willow thought. They still don’t know when to leave him well enough alone.

It would be their fault for not understanding Wukongs simple and very obvious attempts to walk past and around them. But another man would join, asking to hear of his teachings from the Buddha himself, and his eyes would make direct contact with theirs and the teeth would shine all the sharper. That wasn’t a smile. That was a promise of violence.

Willow knew if Wukong reacted it would only cement the court's opinion of Wild Beast they saw. Willow had to act fast before the feast turned from one of peace to one of violence. So Willow, setting her goblet down whispered to her nearest sister, Winter.

“Catch me.”

“Beg pardon?”

And then Willow, with the grace of all her years of acting and tricking the witless fools of Heaven, swooned and fainted. Winter caught her, crying out in more surprise than worry.

Willow made sure she brought her hand up dramatically to her face, the sleeve covering her mouth. Her elbow she had knock into the tray that held food and Willow was rewarded with the loudest clatter of porcelain cracking onto the floor beneath them. The goblet she had placed was sent flying to spill into the rug beneath their cushioned seats.

Sorry father. I know you wanted a peaceful night with us all.

Her dramatics had the desired effect: the court all took in a sudden breath and some gasped. She heard her father call to her and the worry in his voice made Willow's heart beat with a bit of guilt.

“Sister?” She felt hands shake her shoulders in worry and looked up beneath lashes into Winters frosty face.

“Play along, so that way the court doesn’t catch on.” Willow whispered and her hand subtly pointed to where Wukong had been- and where he was running up to her.

“Willow!” He sounded so worried it made her heart give another guilty squeeze. His hands had grown in size, meaning he had made himself larger than regular. “Are you alright my love?”

Willow looked just beneath her arm as she brought it up higher in a mock groan. But he was close enough to hear her now.

“Let’s go home.” Willow could see the stress lines on his face, the anger that had been there cooling like coals in a fire.

“Seems my sister fainted.” Bless her, Little was close enough to see that a game was afoot. And she always approved of games. “It’s been so long since she was at the Palace after all. The scents may have overwhelmed her.”

Wukong looked down just long enough to see Willow give a wink. Some of the tension leaked from him and she could feel it leave his hands. His fast mind seized onto this statement (now that he was given a signal that this was a ruse) and elaborated upon the story.

“My wife was worried about tonight. The winds over our mountain have been so clean and clear while Heavens incense must have overwhelmed her delicate nose.” Wukongs arms took her up, face close to hers.

“How did you know?” He mumbled into her hair. He didn’t ask her if she knew what. Wukong understood that she was doing this for him in some way. It was the intuition of being with each other for so long.

“Saw those courtiers - the fools.” She barely moved her lips to speak and was glad to have her sleeve covering her face. She couldn’t help the smile as he blew air into her ear, tickling her.

“You are a Heaven send.” He said to her then addressed the court.

“Seems my wife needs to clear her head. We will head home on the leave of my Father-in-Law the Jade Emperor.”

“You may go, Sun Wukong. Let me - let me know how she fares will you?” The worry that made the end of his voice tremble at the end had Willow feel just a bit more guilt.

Sorry Father.

Willow felt Wukong bow his head and then they were away, faster than a falling star on a path back to earth. Once past the Celestial guards Wukong tapped her shoulder with a claw and Willow dropped her act and sighed.

“Thank small mercies.” She sighed, gazing out at the fast approaching world below.

“Mercies exist but they are not small.” Wukong said. “I’m holding one in my arms.”

“You flatterer.” She laughed at the sappy look he gave her and she pressed his nose with a delicate finger. “Come, tell me true- what we’re those vipers cornering you about?”

“Seems they were beginning to question my … ability to … well …” Wukong was looking everywhere but her, the wind blowing across his fur. It couldn’t hide the blush turning his face and ears into a tomato.

It only took a second for Willow to understand- and she turned in his arms to glare back into the sky. “I will flay that Advisor!”

“Advisor?”

“Yes. The little shrew of a man must have set the rumour to running before he approached me himself.” The coward. She was glad her sisters had known enough gossip to spin his dilemma into a full show for the court. Willow touched Wukongs cheek, worried. “Tell me what happened.”

“They started asking about my ascension in Buddhism and asked about my teachings. Then they started … well. In on the questions of you and me and our… intimacies.” He was so uncomfortable that he was rubbing at his forehead, claws leaving little red marks on his exposed skin. “It started making me uncomfortable and I couldn’t see or get a clear path to return to you.” Wukong sighed. “I’m sorry Willow.”

“Sorry? You have nothing to apologize for! That man had come up to me and my sisters to dig at us for information as well.” Willow chuckled, remembering how Little, Winter, Cloud and Autumn had perfectly embarrassed the man. “Of course you know the sort my sisters are- even if they don’t quite approve of me living on earth they won’t stand for such pointed questions.”

“You were asked about children as well?”

“Yes and I was about to slap him.” This made Wukong laugh. They sped past a cloud front, promising heavy rain. The mountain was coming into sight now within a sea of jet black turned silver by the moon.

“I would have paid good money to see it. The second slap heard in all of Heaven!” Wukong chortled. Then he sobered. “I’m sorry again.”

“Stop Wukong.” Willow caught his face and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And then her stomach gave a tremendous growl, like the traitor it was. It took the wind from her words and flamed Wukongs look of timid regret.

“I pulled you away from the feast before you could even get a bite in.”

“We have all the food back at home.” Willow countered. Cursed stomach. As the Mountain got closer and the silence stretched a bit longer Willow looked back at her friend. His face was concentrated in thought that was slowly beginning to brighten to delight.

“Wukong, I know that face. What are you thinking ?”

He was silent, trying to make his face neutral again. And failing miserably. Once they had stepped down and onto solid ground, Wukong set Willow down and returned to his original size.

“Wukong…” Willow tried again, but was interrupted as the two sentries that night, Ma and Ba, came bounding forward, weapons drawn. When they saw it was Wukong and Willow they relaxed and called greetings.

“My King? You Return so soon!” Ma said.

“Was the feast good?” Ba asked, his broken tail giving an agitated flick.

Wukongs face was fully alight with a genuine smile as he looked at Willow then back at his family.

“The feast was a drab thing of mediocre blathering. We will outdo them here!” The Monkey King walked forward, taking Willows hand gently. She followed, knowing that she was about to get her answer to what Wukong was about to do

“Ma! Ba! Call the troupe- fire up the ovens. Set Water Curtain Cave in its best ! We will have our own feast that will rival Heavens!”

“Yes my king!” The two answered in unison then sped off, whooping and calling and waking all of the mountain for a feast. Ma grabbed at her brothers ear and yanked, getting ahead of him. Ba snarled in mock aggression, swinging his leg to knock Mas out from under her. The two had turned it into a race and it didn’t seem that either would make it out without a few bruises along the way.

“They seem eager for it.” Wukong laughed. He led Willow into their home as the lanterns were turned from their sleepy glow to a bright blaze.

“Wukong …”

“What?”

“Why a feast? I don’t need a feast — I would be satisfied with a simple fruit tart and some water.” Willow felt a bit guilty as she saw sleeping mothers poke their heads from the stone homes and peer out at the ever growing and excited crowd calling for feasting. She saw the kitchen fires light up like a twinkling row of stars coming to life.

“Nonsense!” Wukong assured, pulling her along. “ Why should Heaven have fun and we not have any? Besides I have to find a way to thank you for saving my pride while you lost a bit of your own.”

Was that what this was about ?!

“Oh Wukong it’s fine! Women are expected to faint and fall over themselves with the silliest things.” Her sisters had fainted countless times. Mostly to attract the eye of a gentleman or women they thought was beautiful or fancied. Willow had seen Autumn take the most spectacular swoon, right into the arms of one of the generals! Maybe theatrics ran in the family. Wukong simply shook his head. The idea had him now, the excitment of competing with Heaven growing brighter in his eyes.

“I won’t hear of it.” Wukong declared. Willow forgot how competitive her friend could be. But he also was hiding something else he wanted to do. She could read it like a book.

“You are planning something else are you not? Don’t lie, I can see it on your face plain as day!” She teased him, his mirth infectious. The whole cavern was now alive with the news- droves of the family were coming out now gathering in the banquet hall with foodstuffs to share and enjoy in. Wine was being brought up from the deeper colder caves and already the air smelled intoxicating as the cooks set to work.

It was Wukongs turn to wink at Willow now as he left her at her room door, smiling softly. “You will see~”

#hcwrites #writing stuff #for journey to the au #FIRST PART BEFORE I HAVE TO GO TO WORK #The next part is gonna be real long I’m so sorry #I got a bit carried away because writing joy and mirth is possibly one of the best experiences ever.#jttw sun wukong #jttw au #the betrothal au #I would love to post the second half right away but I’m not completely done with it #I want to add more fluff and such #jttw tag #fanfic writing #I put fanfic on this one because - well. drabbles are usually shorter and I use Drabble in such a loose term #this behemoth of writing is definitely not a little drable #jttw monkey king #I CANT wait to finish the second part but I have to get ready for work #I love all of Kaijus monkeys ok? they are precious #I really tried to stick to the three name form for the sisters too #I DONT trust myself to try and attempt direct chinese letters/ mandarin #also- I keep saying flower fruit mountain for the ease of spelling because I did try and spell out the full mountain name that is being used #HOWEVER I QUICKLY DISCOVERED THAT MY PHONE HATES IT AND WILL CHANGE IT TO HOUGANDAS #so I got frustrated and said ‘no’ lol #I also Found that in the late tang dynasty they had horses perform dances for entertainment #ERW #earth reaching willow #enjoy part 1 sorry to leave you without the second bit #jttw fanfic #hcfanfics

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