Archive of Our Own

Wukong woke up that morning to a steady weight on top of him, heavier than any single one of his clingier monkey cubs could manage, so he already knew what to expect before he opened his eyes.

The sun was golden and warm on his skin, spilling into the room through the windows. He could hear comforting chirps of his subjects from outside the hut, along with the calming purr against his chest. “Good morning,” he blinked blearily at the pregnant cat as she sniffed around his face, uncaring of his morning breath. Then again, she had the nastiest, fishiest breath Wukong had ever smelled, so he supposed she didn’t have high standards.

She was bigger now, even her belly was bigger, too. Her body almost spanned the length of Wukong’s entire torso as she kneaded her paws into his shirt, purring and knocking her head roughly against his hand in delight. Her increase in size wasn’t that much of a bother. He could still easily carry her with one hand as he went about his morning routines.

She was always cuddliest in the morning. Then, he’d refill her food bowl and Wukong would suddenly turn invisible, being ignored in favor of smacking up her breakfast. It always made him chuckle, the way the cat could easily blink her big eyes at him, or just cry out a sharp ‘meow’, and he’d fumble over his feet to try and decipher her request. It’d make you wonder who the real king was here.

Sometimes, she would feel particularly benevolent and grace Wukong with her intimacy, rubbing against his legs with her tail curling around his own and sleeping on his lap until his legs go numb. Sandy said it was natural for pregnant cats to be more affectionate, so Wukong decided he should soak it up while he still could.

After a quick morning snack, the Monkey King packed up the pregnant cat into his sling and got onto his cloud. He left a clone behind, but it’d probably poof up at some point anyways. He was going to visit Sandy, have some tea with the big guy and do some of that talking thing he liked so much. Wukong always found himself relaxing a bit too much, sometimes his powers would untense and dissipate like the steam rising from tea.

Once, his glamor almost slipped off while he was napping on Sandy’s couch. He never made that mistake again, but it still didn’t do much to dissuade him from Sandy’s tea times. It was nice, charming, and relaxing, sue him.

His good mood slipped away after he arrived at the harbor. He stood there for a bit after getting off his cloud, hands clenching and unclenching as he looked around.

The place was a mess. There was trash littered everywhere, from plastic chip bags to empty beer cans to cigarette butts. There was also some newer graffitis sprayed on the metallic surfaces of Sandy’s boat containers. He walked around to glance over each of them. He had seen some of those before, but he never paid any mind since he figured it was some silly art Mk had painted. Now that he looked closer, he could see the derogatory names and callous images. The words made him a little nauseous. His tail flicked back and forth, rapid and rigid.

It certainly didn’t look like this when Wukong visited a few days ago, nor any of the other times he visited. 

An uneasy sense of trepidation settled itself snug inside his stomach. It was grounding in a way, like he had been floating too high for a while and there was finally something ugly and human enough to drag him back to earth. The cat on his chest poked her head up and meowed, as if she could also sense something wrong. Wukong rubbed her head before unceremoniously pushing her back, deeper into the sling. If anything bad happened, he wanted to be able to beeline out of here and leave her back home before coming back to deal with it.

He took slow but firm steps towards Sandy’s boat, sighing in relief when he noticed the boat itself still seemed in pretty good shape.

Wukong knocked on the door. He frowned when there was no answer. There wasn’t even the usual meowing from some of the more enthusiastic cats from the other side of the door. He figured he shouldn’t resort to breaking Sandy’s door yet, so he knocked again.

This time, a familiar, deep voice came from inside, sounding horribly feeble in a way that made the hair on the back of Wukong’s neck stand up. “Please… go away.”

“Sandy?” his nose and eyes stung, voice cracking.

The door suddenly opened. Sandy stood there with his broom in hand and a relieved look on his face. “Mr. Monkey King!” he cried. “It’s you!”

“Yeah?” Wukong stared back with widened eyes. “Were you expecting someone else?”

He was promptly swept off his feet and hugged. He had to push his hands against Sandy’s pectorals to make sure the pregnant cat wasn’t squished in the process.

“No, no, I’m just so happy to see you!” Sandy gushed and it made the Monkey King blush.

“I’m happy to see you too, bud,” he smiled awkwardly. It wasn’t like his visits were a rare thing, so he didn’t know why Sandy seemed so elated.

“You’re just in time,” Sandy smiled happily, setting Wukong back on the ground next to the dropped broom. “I brewed some morning tea, should have enough caffeine to fuel energy for an entire day!”

“Woah woah, wait, hold on,” Wukong roughly tugged on Sandy’s arm. “Before that, haven’t you seen the state of your dock? What the f— what the heck even happened here?” he gestured at the area as he pulled him outside. “This place looks wrecked , did you piss someone off or something? Why did they trash your home?”

To his surprise, Sandy didn’t look shocked at all. Instead, his face fell, morphing into a resigned and tired expression. “I can clean this up later. For now, I just feel like drinking some tea with my good friend,” he smiled wearily at the King.

Wukong looked down at the ground, mind whirring for a few seconds, before he looked up and gave Sandy what he hoped was a kind, comforting smile. “Okay,” he said with a nod.

He followed him into the warm living room, a stark contrast from the skin-biting cold outside, closing the door behind him.

After setting the pregnant cat down next to Sherbert, Sandy’s pregnant cat, they sat in on the couch and sipped from the charming little tea cups, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room.

Sandy talked about anything and everything else, from the pregnant cats to baby kittens to how to drive a cargo boat to the Marine Liability Act to his new lavender tea blend. Wukong nodded along, his thoughts occasionally drifted outside the boat before being pulled back in by Sandy’s frantic enthusiasm. 

It was as if he wanted to delay any mentions of the mess outside for as long as possible, even though Wukong could easily help him clean up and deal with whoever made the mess.

He said that out loud as such, except only the first part about helping clean up. He didn’t want to see the guy’s watery puppy eyes if he insinuated any sort of violence.

Sandy shook his head, “Thanks for the offer, but I couldn’t possibly trouble you, Mr. Monkey King.”

Wukong frowned. “You can ask Mk to help you clean if you don’t want me touching your stuff. He’s pretty good at it.”

“I shouldn’t,” Sandy’s hand comically dwarfing the teacup in his hand as he fidgeted, rubbing the rim. “He’s already helped me with it multiple times before.”

The nasty feeling in Wukong’s stomach settled further, like a heavy rock sinking into the sludge at the bottom of a pond. “This has happened before?”

Sandy slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, and gave him a look that screamed ‘oopsies’ . He was a very bad liar, which Wukong usually thought was funny. Today, though, the amusement escaped him.

“Sandy,” his voice firm. “This has happened before.” Not a question anymore, but more of an accusation.

He avoided Wukong’s hard gaze, looking around at the cats spread throughout the boat. He bit his lips before finally looking back at the Monkey King, expression nervous, “It’s just some of my old tea time buddies. They visit occasionally but make a bit of ruckus.”

“You have other tea time buddies?” Wukong gasped, “You’re two-timing me!”

Sandy gave a cute chuckle, “I’m not sure that’s the right term to use in this context.”

~

The next time he came for tea, he didn’t bring the cat.

That turned out to be the right decision as he wandered around the dock, somehow more defaced than last time, if that was even possible.

He remembered watching Sandy pick up the litter and wipe away most of the vandalism. His offer to help was refused multiple times as he sat on a nearby crate and watched the big man work.

Today, the trash seemed to have doubled. 

It wasn’t only the just litter or empty beer cans now, there were also splattered egg shells and toilet paper strewn across most of the surfaces. The vandalism upgraded itself to larger doodles of offensive and hostile descriptions, showing multiple explicit cruel things that could be done to the owner of the boat and his pets. Even though the art itself wasn’t detailed enough to be menacing, the intent still made Wukong’s fur prickle. He took a quick scan through the rest of the perimeters and found nobody hiding in corners, potentially waiting to attack once he let his guard down.

With a flash of his Golden Eyes of Truth, he could see Sandy and his therapy cats alive within the boat, but the boat itself didn’t make it unscathed. There were dents in some faces of the metal plates, as if someone went at it with a bludgeon. The wooden curtain was completely smashed and there was some opaque shield Sandy must’ve put up to cover the window in its place.

Wukong focused on breathing through his nose, shoving down whatever protective primitive instinct these clear threats of violence were arousing, and attempted to guide his mind into a more numbing, meditative state. He was a little high-strung, but he reigned himself back, anchoring his mind by madly mumbling sutras under his breath.

南無  腊那  他呀呀  唵  甘嘎尼  甘嘎尼

羅差尼  羅差尼  托他尼  托他尼

A cold, humorless laugh escaped his throat, interrupting his own recitation when he noticed which spell he was reciting. It was a little infuriating how he always subconsciously landed on that specific one at times like this.

He shook and cleared his head before knocking on Sandy’s door. The King didn’t wait for an answer this time before he prefaced, “Sandy, open the door. It’s Monkey King.”

It opened with a creak. “Good morn–”

He stalked into the boat, “Hey, what the fuck happened this time?” he asked crudely. He wasn’t angry at him per se, but there was anger in his stomach that seeped through his lips like boiling steam. “Your old ‘tea time buddies’ don’t seem that friendly,” his words were mocking and Sandy stepped back with each of Wukong’s steps forward, but he couldn’t stop himself. Sandy looked nervous and yet none of that mattered to the King. He was irked and he wanted answers.

“Sandy,” his eyebrows furrowed as the aforementioned man avoided his hard gaze, looking around at the cats spread throughout the boat. There weren’t any purring, as if they were all observing the interaction, or maybe Wukong just couldn’t hear them through the cotton in his head. “This is serious, you know that, right? C’mon, aren’t you the one always saying to be more ‘communicative’ or whatever?”

Sandy pursed his lips, his expression was laughably readable, as if he wasn’t even trying to hide his apprehension, as if the wreckage outside was all a joke to him. “Speak,” he grinded his teeth. “Tell me the truth, tell me what happened.”

They walked to the other side of the boat and Sandy had nowhere left to back off to, the big man somehow looking incredibly small for his size while caged between the King and the wall.

Sandy folded in on himself a bit, hugging himself as his eyes nervously jumped from Wukong’s face to anywhere else. “Who did this?” the Monkey King seethed, his hand finding itself onto the wall next to Sandy, scraping against the paint job of the metal. “Answer me,” he gritted out.

Sandy seemed to break, squeezing his eyes shut as he breathed, “It’s just a bunch of teenagers fooling around a bit!”

“‘Teenagers’?”

“And they only come once in a while! So, uhm ,” Sandy gave an awkward laugh, hands laid out as if wanting to placate the King. “It’s honestly nothing to worry about!”

“‘Nothing to worry about’?” Wukong cried incredulously. The shock snapped the tension out of his system until only numb disbelief was left, like a bucket of cold water. He grabbed Sandy’s arm, tugging him towards the couch.

“Look outside,” he snapped back the piece of reflective covering, shards of wooden curtain still haphazardly hung along the frame. There was also a well positioned smashed bottle of cheap booze right in front of the window. “Open your eyes! How long has this been happening? You can’t just let them get away with this, it’s heinous !”

“They’re not doing anything harmful,” Sandy winced. “It's just a bit of litter and wall art, I can always just clean it up.”

“Wall art?” Wukong gawked, still a bit unbelieving that Sandy was actually trying to defend the people behind this. “ Mk’s stuff is art. Those are just vandalism!”

“Expressing their inner creativity! Maybe they can collab with Mk sometime.”

Wukong’s eye twitched. “There sure are a lot of expletives from their ‘creativity’ ,” he said the last word mockingly with air quotation marks.

“I guess their creativity is angry,” Sandy shrugged. “It’s okay, I was pretty angry too when I was a teenager,” he chuckled lightly as if trying to brush off the topic.

“Sandy,” Wukong's tone was imploring. He wanted to flex his hands but he might break Sandy’s bone in the process. He released Sandy’s arm. “They wrote really nasty stuff about you.”

“ Displaced aggression . It must be a difficult time in their lives, I can’t blame them–”

Wukong slammed his feet on the ground, the sound making Sandy jump but he couldn’t bother to care. He clenched and unclenched his hands, shivering slightly from strain. “Where is your cleaning rag?” his voice cracked a bit.

Sandy wordlessly pointed to a nearby cabinet. It was filled with some cloths and spray bottles, along with a mop in a bucket. He made Sandy sit on a little stool outside and watch as Wukong cleaned up the entire area, stubbornly refusing to use his clones for whatever reason.

‘Hey! I can clean this up for you! You can trust me, you should rely on me.’ It was honestly a bit pathetic how Wukong practically screamed that with his actions, but the little clean up session did somehow deplete his anger and frustration. It helped him feel a bit less useless.

~

Wukong didn’t tell Sandy, of course, but he stalked his harbor every single night after that, disguised as a bird or any other random stray animal. He’d lay in waiting, alert and delirious. He didn’t need sleep but the deprivation of it might’ve somewhat attributed to his irritation, truthfully.

Then, four days after Wukong cleaned the place, his patience was awarded.

The group wasn’t big by any means, about half a dozen of normal-sized looking humans in baggy clothes. They stumbled in past midnight, the few streetlights barely illuminating their path but they seemed to navigate themselves well, familiar with the area.

Sandy had his windows closed preemptively, shut with the temporary plastic covering that wouldn’t do shit if anyone really wanted to get in. Whatever, it worked out in Wukong’s favor. Sandy wouldn’t be able to see outside this way.

Wukong watched as the humans settled down by a group of crates, laughing and conversing vulgarly. One of them had an old-timey stereo, blaring out booming music into his ears. They were loud, invasive and disturbing the quiet peace that Wukong had come to associate with Sandy’s presence. 

Just the sight of them made him want to hop off from his perch from on top of the boat and screech in their faces until they ran away.

Maybe claw out their eyes while he was at it.

Maybe break their legs, too.

No, he could be more civilized than that.

He slipped to the back of the boat, out of sight. A small flash of light, and he was walking around the side, a human young adult disguise along with baggy hoodies and jeans, similar to the group. He strolled towards them, whistling carelessly as he pretended not to notice them snap their heads towards him. He could feel them cautiously stare them down as he assessed them in turn. 

Seven of them. Most of them looked older than just a human teenager with their facial hair and zero baby fat. There was a blond boy in a beanie amongst them that drew Wukong’s attention. He was unlike the rest, he could sense it even without Golden Vision. He was also vaguely familiar.

“Oh, hey guys!” he greeted cheerily. “Mind if I join ya? Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Bugger off, fuckass,” a man sitting on the floor with deep set eyes bared his teeth. He looked like the oldest, perhaps the leader of their little friend group. “This is our spot.”

“It’s a nice spot,” Wukong nodded. “How’d you come across this space anyways? Isn’t this the home of that big guy livin’ that boat?”

Another man spat on the ground. “This isn’t a matter of whose property it is, he found this hangout spot for us,” he gestured to the beanie boy. Wukong narrowed his eyes at the blondie. Truly, that kid stuck out like a sore thumb, younger and less confident and a bit more fidgety compared to the rest of the group. “And then we claimed it. So take your ass elsewhere.”

“No need to be so hostile,” Wukong giggled. He settled in a crouch in front of the leader, the rest of them tensed as they watched from around them, but nobody made a move yet. “Don’t worry, I’m not a cop or anything. I’ve just heard about some of the fun you’ve had on this dock and wanted to see what the hype was about.”

A girl raised an eyebrow, a baton swinging in her hand, “Wait, you’re that blue freak’s friend or something? Did the little bitch boy call his friends over for help?” She smirked as the rest of the group snickered and chortled along.

Wukong’s fake grin dropped for a second before it quickly plastered back on his face. “Look, I’m trying to be friendly–”

The leader interrupted him with a laugh in Wukong’s face, spit flying. “Ugh, you really are the same type! Don’t tell me you’re also one of those monsters? Hah , disgusting. Should be illegal for demons disguised as a human,” he laughed humorlessly, an unamused face as he took a sip from his bottle. “Dunno why people are scared of you all the time… nothing but a bunch of weak ass losers in a freaky body.”

The group was leering at Wukong, gazes burning as if they could strip away the glamor and kill the demon underneath with their eyes. His smile had gone frigid but he gave one last try, “We can talk this out all civil-like, I don’t want any trouble.”

“‘Trouble’?” the leader scoffed. Wukong heard shuffling behind him, the people sitting near the back had moved at some point. The man smirked, “No, there won’t be any trouble at all.”

The King jumped into the air, a heavy bat hit the ground where he crouched just a few seconds prior. He landed on the crate and springed off before it was smashed with a baton.

“Whew,” he crouched on top of a tall, metal container, giggling with a more real sense of joy and amusement this time. Felt good to stretch his limbs. “How’d you get that?” he nodded down to the girl holding the baton, a smirk tugging on his lips playfully. “I thought only cops carried those.”

She didn’t reply, staring up at him before helplessly looking back towards the leader. The man looked much less smug, much more pissed. Wukong wondered how many small fries they'd picked on before to be so surprised with not taking him out within two swings.

The blond guy in the beanie tugged at the the leader’s sleeve, “Dude, maybe we should just leave–”

“Shut up! It’s just a stupid demon doing some acrobatics,” he turned to glare at Wukong, “Get your ass down here!”

The King tilted his head, gauging the look on the man’s face. Then, he simpered, “Sure.” He hopped down in one easy leap.

The group rushed at him like magnets. He dodged around, lightly redirecting their aims when they got too close. They made a bit of a mess of the dock, a bit of blood splattering around the crates from one of their sharper weapons. Most of their own injuries came from each other, they were a clumsy lot. Explosive yet inexperienced. Wukong barely used any strength, the amount was a far cry even from what he used against Mk during spars. These were normal humans after all.

Well, except for one.

He pivoted on his heel and aimed for the blondie in the beanie, uncaring of his strength as he slammed him into the ground, pinned underneath Wukong. He struggled but all his friends had run off in different directions, frightened of the sudden aggression from the King. They didn’t get very far, held back by a dome of magic he had put up, locking up their destruction and noise within the barrier.

“You’re not human,” Wukong said, voice low and cold. The boy’s eyes widened. “ Why?” he growled. “Why would you do something like this to another demon? Have you no heart? Can you imagine if a group of hooligans came to your home and harassed you at night?”

“D-don’t fucking patronize me,” the disguised demon was horror-stricken but whispered back, shaking under King’s clutch. “ You don’t understand– you don’t know me! I’m just like any other human, don’t group me together with y- you .”

Wukong stared down at him. He could feel his own glamor glitching with his emotions as he strained his hands from tightening too much. This guy may also be a demon, sure, but he was still a weakling. The Monkey King could only let loose so much before he accidentally snapped a wrist.

“You call yourself human, but you lack humanity,” he murmured. “Listen to me well, boy . Convince your friends to leave and never come back to this place. If I see one of your faces anywhere near here again, I’m breaking both of your legs .” It was an empty threat, this demon was just a stupid teenager by human years. At most, Wukong would find the leader and string him up by his underwear on a streetlight, dangling for all to see.

Nonetheless, the threat worked well. The boy trembled, scrambling away when Wukong let go of his hands, racing for his friends. He slowly stood up as the group gathered around the leader. “You’re right. You weren’t any trouble at all,” Wukong teased as he grinned at him. The leader looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel, face flushed with anger and embarrassment.

“I’ll let you go,” Wukong said as he snapped away the barrier. “For your sake, I hope this is the last time I’ll see you,” he said, casually turning around and walking towards the boat. Perhaps he could tell Sandy the good news, how he took care of his problem without any real violence. That would definitely make the big ol’ softie proud.

“Fuck you!” shouted the leader, a scowl in his voice.

“Yeah yeah, whatever kid,” he waved without looking back. “Just go home already.”

Wukong could hear him huff and puff before the man yelled, “One of his cat’s expectin’ . Sherbert, right?” The name of Sandy’s pregnant cat. The Monkey King halted.

“Would be a shame—” he could hear some of the others trying to shush their leader, “Would be a fucking shame if her belly was sliced and the fetuses get strung up around the boat, wouldn’t it?” Some of the previous vandalism and disgusting threats he tried to wipe away flashed through Wukong’s head. He imagined the orange one in his hut, manhandled and tortured just like the threats the man spoke about.

A knife whizzed past the leader’s head, barely missing his skin, making the group ogle at the blade struck into the ground before it poofed into a strand of hair. They snapped their heads back to look at the King, who had twisted his body into a more beastly form. Tearing away the human glamor, his limbs contorted repulsively, cracking and popping grotesquely. The street lights flickered as the monkey flexed his hands, claws outgrowing its real, trimmed size.

The humans and demon boy gawked at him and he peered back, his form towering and monstrous, blocking out most of the sky. His fur puffed up and the pavement cracked under his feet, tail lashing around like a whip. The few street lights weren’t enough to illuminate him and his figure was dark, but his eyes glowed a sinister red, staring at the group who had their mouths gaped, silly expressions on their faces.

He pulled back his lips and growled at them, guttural but somewhat quiet, enough to be mistaken as the motor of a boat or the crashing waves nearby. The King relished in the panic as their legs shook, some even fell on their butts like baby monkey cubs learning to walk.

Wukong took a deep breath, huffing warm air onto their faces. “Ten seconds.”

“What?” one of them panted, rather winded.

“Nine.”

“Oh shit–” The group scrambled against each other, propelling themselves onto their feet.

“Eight.”

The couple faster ones shot off immediately, sprinting desperately towards the streets.

“Seven.”

They managed to flip over a fence and left their friends in the dust.

“Six.”

The few stragglers shoved against the crates, knocking over boxes and tripping over themselves in their haste.

“Five.”

The blondie in the beanie doubled back for their unfinished bottles of alcohol and that obnoxious stereo.

“Four.”

Clearly, he wasn’t graced with the same sense of self-preservation the others had.

“Three.”

Ah well, survival of the fittest.

“Two.”

~

The door opened after two knocks.

“Mr. Monkey King?” Sandy looked surprised. His face was a pleasant sight after dealing with the humans’ ugly scowls. “What are you doing here so late?”

It was early morning, like, real early. The sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon and there was only a small night light casting view onto the sleeping bodies of cats inside the boat.

“Hey Sandy, can I come in?” Wukong smiled.

“Sure, is it sleeping trouble again?” Sandy asked kindly as he led him into the living room. “Would you like some chamomile tea?” 

“ Oooohh , I’m good actually, thanks for the offer bud,” Wukong stood around awkwardly as Sandy sat on the couch, trying and failing not to wake the cats. They were light sleepers, just like the one he left at home. His hands shuffled behind his own back, keeping the surprise out of view. “I have a gift for you though!”

“A gift?” Sandy beamed. “You shouldn’t have!”

“Close your eyes,” Wukong said and Sandy complied almost immediately. It made his chest warm to be offered with such trust. “Okay, keep ‘em closed until I say open.” He sat down on the other side of the couch as he maneuvered the thing to his front, his hands outstretched so it would be right in front of the big guy’s face.

“Open!”

Sandy blinked open his eyes with a big, excited grin. He stared at it for a few seconds, his expression frozen.

His eyes flickered to Wukong’s similarly excited face and back to the gift. Sandy’s face fell, a haunted and anguished look settling instead.

“... What did you do?”

“What?” Wukong blanked. His heart started hammering in his ears, tail tucked between his legs insecurely. “ Wha– do you– Do you not like it? ”

Sandy fixed him with a stern expression, eyes jumping around Wukong as if assessing him. Then, he looked back to the gift held up in front of him.

It was a big gift, about the same height as Wukong but it was thin, easily hidden behind his back if he bent the right way. There were bits of blood splattered all over it. The body was made of wooden sticks, pieces from the broken crates, with a beanie nailed to the top end of the cross. Broken, bloody shards of glass decorated the horizontal board, strewn together. It had a dirty jacket taped on the back and in its hands held a half broken glass bottle. Its face was nailed under the beanie, a piece of paper and a smile that Wukong crudely drew with ink.

“It’s– it’s a scarecrow! Villagers used to set stuff up like these in their fields to ward off crows! I think it’d be a cool display to put up at the edge of the dock. Or is that just a farmer thing?”

Sandy was slowly shaking his head, his expression still stunned as he stared at Wukong, as if he was truly seeing him for the first time.

“Is it the face? I drew it really quick so it’s pretty bad I know but you can change it! You can always just tape somethin’ else over it, or I could just take the nail off and remake the head– um, here ,” he frantically peeled the nail off of the top end of the board, the beanie falling to the ground and Sandy’s eyes followed it. “See? I know it’s a pretty cruddy gift but I only made it within, like, a bit of time. I can just remake it– or maybe you don’t want it handmade, that’s ok! I can find someone to make a proper one–”

“Is that…” Sandy muttered, staring at the dirty beanie on the ground. “Is that the blond kid’s…”

“Huh?” Wukong said very eloquently before he also looked at the beanie. “Oh yeah! It’s one of those guys' beanies. Do you not like it? I think people used to pierce their enemy’s heads on spikes and parade them outside and stuff so that’s where I got the inspiration from.” He stopped himself at the increasingly horrified look on Sandy’s face.

No, he wanted to scream. No, not you. I never wanted you to look at me like that. Instead, he kept blabbering, “Oh yeah, that group of humans! This scarecrow is just an extra precaution if anyone else ever came here looking for trouble, heh, or maybe a fun memento? I’ve dealt with them already, so you don’t have to worry about being harrassed anymore!”

“‘Dealt with them’?” Sandy looked sick, his hands wrapped around his mouth. Half his face was shadowed from the lack of light as he backed into the other side of the couch, closing in on himself like a shelled animal.

It was only then that Wukong finally realized what Sandy was assuming. His eyes widened in disbelief, “No wait– huh– what are you thinking?” The scarecrow fell from his grasp, glass clinking together against the ground.

Sandy glanced to the side, eyebrows scrunched as he drew further away from the Monkey King.

“Sandy?” Wukong’s voice was small but tense, like a cracking dam about to break. “Sandy, I didn’t– Is that how you think of me?”

He felt wronged somewhat, and then suddenly, he felt angry. He grit his teeth and his eyebrows scrunched, “ So what if I did? So what if I did hurt them, or hell, killed them even? They deserved it.”

“Don’t say that,” Sandy grimaced, tone scolding.

“ What?! It’s true! The shit they’ve written, the way they threatened you and the cats! They are the real monsters here!”

“They were just human. They wouldn’t have been able to cause much harm–”

“Oh really? You didn’t hear what they’ve been talking about. You didn’t see what they said about Sherbert .”

“Monkey King,” Sandy pleaded but the King didn’t pay any mind. 

“No, you must’ve seen it. You were the one who cleaned up all their nasty graffitis from before. You’ve seen what they’ve said, right?” All of the anger he held back from before was bursting out and he couldn’t stop it even if he tried. “How they would break into your house if you dared call the cops on them. How they’d take all of the cats and toss half of them into the ocean to drown .”

“Monkey King.” The tone was more firm this time, a warning.

“And then they’ll gut the rest of them on a FUCKING LIVE STREAM!”

“Enough!” Sandy cried as he stood up, stepping away from the couch as if he couldn’t stand to be near the King. He looked close to tears but that only made Wukong more vexed.

He wanted to cry now ? When his problem had already been dealt with? What for? Why wasn’t he crying before when it was happening? Why was he looking at him like that even though he fixed the problem ?

“They couldn’t fight against you, they’re humans –”

“Not all of them! There was a demon amongst them! The guy with this beanie!”

Sandy shook his head as if Wukong was the one missing the point, “They were children .”

“Most of them were at least in their adult ages for human years!”

“Mr. Monkey King, you shouldn’t resort to violence . They don’t have much durability–”

It grounded on his nerves, how he was still trying to play the therapist. It felt condescending in a way, patronizing. It made a feral growl rumble from his throat, just to spite the taming that’s trying to be done.

“They wanted to harm you, I just harmed them before they could.”

“That’s not the point here.”

“ WHAT IS IT THEN?” Wukong screamed as he clutched his own head, the space where his scar would sit without glamor. “What– What’s the fucking point? What statement were you trying to make here?”

“I’m not trying to make a statement , Mr. Monkey King,” Sandy looked at him sadly. “I just… didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Wukong gawked. He didn’t understand. “ They were hurting you ,” he tried, pleading in his voice as if repeating the obvious here would get through to Sandy.

“They didn’t know any better.”

“ They should! They’re grown ass people!” Wukong’s chest felt tight with resentment and panic.

Sandy looked aggrieved, “You don’t understand…”

‘Understand what? You’re the one who’s not understanding the situation!’ he wanted to shriek, but he’d just sound like a broken record. It was frustrating and that scared him because he had never felt like this when talking with Sandy before.

This familiar feeling of frustration reminded him of–

Why can’t you listen to me?

‘Wukong… you’re being too aggressive.’

Wukong squeezed his eyes at the sudden pang of agony around his skull, throbbing with a phantom ache.

Why won’t you just believe me?
‘Stop, you’re too violent.’

He opened his eyes, breathing a bit too hard as he glared at his hands, repeatedly clenching and unclenching them. His nails were trimmed and well taken care of, they don’t even cut his palm when he shakily squeezes his fist.

南無  腊那  他呀呀  唵  甘嘎尼  甘嘎尼

He could barely think over the noise of someone rambling in the background, their voice blurred into incoherent buzzing that only made the throbbing in his head hurt more. He wondered if the voice was reciting the tightening spell. The thought dug a hollow ditch in his chest.

南無  腊那  他呀呀  唵  甘嘎尼  甘嘎尼

羅差尼  羅差尼  托他尼  托他尼

“ Listen… ” he muttered, way too quietly than he meant to, or maybe his volume was fine but he just couldn’t hear himself.

南無  腊那  他呀呀  唵  甘嘎尼  甘嘎尼

羅差尼  羅差尼  托他尼  托他尼

他沙尼  他沙尼  巴地哈那  巴地哈那 

沙哇  噶瑪巴然  巴拉尼美

沙哇  薩埵  年扎  梭哈

His vision blurred and his eyes stung, he couldn’t even see his hands clearly anymore. Maybe he was going to faint. It wouldn’t surprise him, with how queasy and nauseous he felt.

南無  腊那  他呀呀  唵  甘嘎尼  甘嘎尼

羅差尼  羅差尼  托他尼  托他尼

他沙尼  他沙尼  巴地哈那  巴地哈那 

沙哇  噶瑪巴然  巴拉尼美

沙哇  薩埵  年扎  梭哈

南無  腊那  他呀呀  唵  甘嘎尼  甘嘎尼

羅差尼  羅差尼  托他尼  托他尼

他沙尼  他沙尼  巴地哈那  巴地哈那 

沙哇  噶瑪巴然  巴拉尼美

沙哇  薩埵  年扎  梭哈

He wanted to cry for whatever ridiculous reason. Or maybe he already had, if that was where the blurred vision came from.

南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇stop薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀my head唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差I'm sorry尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎master梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他it hurts沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊please那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈南無腊那他呀呀唵甘嘎尼甘嘎尼羅差尼羅差尼托他尼托他尼他沙尼他沙尼巴地哈那巴地哈那沙哇噶瑪巴然巴拉尼美沙哇薩埵年扎梭哈why won't you just

“ LISTEN TO ME! ”

And almost instantly, it was quiet. Finally, Wukong could hear his own labored breaths instead of just feeling his ribs contract and stretch at a frantic rate.

Awareness flooded back in and he realized with a jolt that he was glaring Sandy in the eyes, the other man looking particularly stunned, or maybe it was fear? The King vaguely registered his own bared teeth, snarling and barbaric. His vision was still blurry from the tears beading his waterline, but he could see some cats staring at him from his peripheral view, ears pressed back and fur puffed up. 

He clutched a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to hide it before he even closed his lips, drool dribbling repulsively over his fingers as he reigned in his aggression. No matter how often the Monkey King filed his fangs, it seemed that he couldn’t remove the demon inside of him.

Wukong looked down at his free hand. The trimmed nails were bloody, he did cut his palm, after all. Not even the cat had ever drawn blood with her clawless paw. He was a savage demon, destructive, the type that could hurt anyone and everyone without a second thought if he wasn’t disciplined enough, even himself.

“ I’m sorry ,” He barely remembered to breathe an apology before he flew out the door in a panicked frenzy, not sparing a glance at Sandy’s face, which he was sure would be filled with disdain.

~

“Ooooh lookie here!” Wukong lifted a dirty jacket, strewn with blood from the ground. “One of your friends forgot their jacket, wanna bring it back to them?”

“Nah, keep it,” the blond demon gruffed without sparing a glance. He sat at the edge of the dock, sniffling and nursing his wound. “He’s an asshole anyways.”

Wukong picked up the beanie that had fallen off the kid’s head, “Can I have your beanie, too? I’m getting some real artistic inspiration here for a little project.”

“Sure, whatever man.”

Wukong looked at the kid’s back, weighing the choices in his mind before he opted to sit next to him, swinging his legs and tail swinging serenely. He watched the blondie from the edge of his eye. It was still dark but he could see that the boy’s glamor had fallen away. It was probably dropped in shock when his palm was injured, revealing a weasel’s face. 

The wind easily brushed through his yellow fur now that his beanie was off. He was pouting, glaring angrily at his hand as if the fault was anyone else’s but his own.

“Y’know that’s on you, right?”

“Shut up,” the weasel demon grumbled. “I know, so stop makin’ fun of me.”

“Okay okay,” Wukong held his hands up in surrender. “Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page. You’re the one who tripped over his own feet and started crying after cutting his hand on the bottles he broke, after all. I even helped you bandage it, so nothin’ to do with me!”

“I KNOW,” he groaned, rubbing his face with his uninjured hand. “Fucking hell, how many times are you gonna remind me?”

“Hey now, it’s not MY fault you pissed your pants just cuz I made a face at you. Didn’t think I was THAT scary.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” the boy glared with his beady eyes, still obviously uncomfortable and untrusting as he angled himself away from the King. “You grew like, TEN METERS or some shit! What kind of demon even are you? Also, I did NOT piss my pants.”

“Alright alright! I just didn’t want you to run back to your mommy and then sue me for hittin’ a kid or something, my lawyer hates me already.”

“I’m almost eighteen, I’m not a kid.”

“Then quit acting like one. Kid.”

The boy didn’t reply. He looked genuinely ashamed for once, tucking his tail between his legs and his arms around his waist like a kicked puppy. 

Wukong sighed. “Look, I’m not good with this talk stuff or whatever, but you seem like you still have a conscience. Can’t say the same about your friends though, they booked off without thinking twice and left you behind. So why dontcha just behave a bit more? Don’t hang out with the bad sort. It’ll break your mom’s heart.”

“My mom is dead,” the blond demon deadpanned.

“Uh–” Wukong’s eyes widened. “It’ll break your dad’s heart?”

“My dad’s dead too.”

Wukong pursed his lips, “You got a– uh, anyone else?”

“I have an older sibling,” the kid offered.

“Ah, right, you’ll break your older sibling’s heart–”

“I already have,” the kid’s face twisted, his whiskers twitched. “There’s nothing I can do that’ll surprise them anymore. I’m a demon, so anything bad I do is already expected from me.”

He rubbed a thumb over the bandages on his other palm. “Our mom was a demon but her children all came out human. Except me. That’s why my older sibling hates me. They’re ashamed of me.”

“Did they tell you that?” Wukong asked, voice quieter.

“No, but they don’t have to. I know they’ve been waiting for the day for me to become legal and kick me out. I've always been a big burden, even more than our baby sister. I know that, but I never asked to be born this way…”

The Monkey King sat there for a while, awkwardly glancing around as he let the kid whimper and cry quietly. The crying faded eventually.

“Do you know the big guy in that boat?” Wukong suddenly prompted with a thumb pointed behind them.

“Yeah,” the boy wiped his snot on his sleeve. “My sibling is friends with him, that’s how I learned about this dock.”

“Wow, so you just sold him out?” Wukong laughed. “You’re a real asshole.”

“I know,” the weasel demon said miserably, tears still dripping down his fuzzy cheeks. “I don’t care about the whole human thing anymore, I don’t wanna fit in anymore! They’re all shitheads anyways. I’ll apologize to Sandy tomorrow and clean the entire dock. Please don’t tell my sibling.”

“Well, that wasn’t the reason I brought it up but that does sound good,” Wukong admitted. “I just wanted to use Sandy as an example. He may be a demon but he’s more genuine and kind than most humans I’ve known, y’know?” he nudged the kid with his shoulder. “I honestly don’t give a fuck about you, but Sandy’s always on about the whole no violence and communication thing, so I’m trying it out for his sake.”

“Thanks,” the kid grumbled, not sounding very thankful at all.

“You’re welcome,” Wukong chirped. “Hey, you should try out Buddhism sometime. You’re allowed to seek enlightenment and forgiveness no matter what nasty shit you’ve done, it’s crazy.”

“I don’t like religious shit. It’s all just a bunch of stupid bullshit.”

“Maybe not, but you don’t have to be religious to ask for forgiveness,” Wukong shrugged. “If you truly believe Buddhism is a bunch of ‘stupid bullshit’, then heal yourself without seeking religion.”

“I will. I’ll do it just to spite you.”

“That’s fine with me, kid.”

~

Wukong laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The talk he had with that weasel demon finished replaying in his head, and then he focused back to his argument with Sandy. Buddha , did that even count as an argument?

Wukong thought he might’ve been the only one yelling, a one-sided argument, but he wasn’t sure now. He ran all their interactions through his mind over and over obsessively, like a jammed film stuck on replay, until the whole thing faded like rippling water and he was left to second guess himself.

He thought back to the agonizing moments in his head before he ran out.

To him, it felt like minutes, hours even, but it probably had only been a few seconds. Sandy may as well have said a few sentences or a few more words before the Monkey King blew up in his face out of nowhere, practically telling him to shut up.

The thought of it all made him choke. He didn’t mean it that way, he only said it all out of frustration but there wasn’t even any good reason for his frustration. Sandy’s only ever been patient and attentive with him, why couldn’t he have provided the same sentiment?

He didn’t want to lose Sandy, that’s why he was so forward and pushed too hard. But now, it seemed that all he did was push Sandy away. He didn’t know what to do with himself if Sandy hated him. Where would he even go during the morning tea times? Stay in his hut like he’d been doing for centuries before? That sounded dreadful and frankly unbearable.

Wukong sighed as he dug his palms into his eyes. They were probably red even with his glamors on. He urged back the tears, he didn’t deserve to cry. Not now.

A curious meow grabbed his attention. He let his hands fall away as he stared back at the cat sitting on his chest. Realistically, her size wouldn’t hold him at all, but he felt like she was the only thing anchoring him down from drifting too far.

“What do I do? Should I apologize to Uncle Sandy again?” he cooed as he stroked a hand at the scarred scent gland under her chin. 

Meow.

“Yeah, but he probably doesn’t wanna see my face right now. He probably hates me.”

Meow.

“No he didn’t say it to my face, but I was really mean. He probably wouldn’t want someone like me around.”

Meow.

“You’re right, I should at least apologize properly. I’ll just leave if he never wants to see my face again, but I will apologize nonetheless.”

~

He stood outside Sandy’s door. It was already late into the afternoon. He had rushed out of that boat just that morning, but it felt like too long ago and not long enough at the same time. 

The dock still looked a bit of a mess, nothing changed since his confrontation with the group of humans and weasel demon, which probably meant Sandy wasn’t in the mood for cleaning up. The thought made his chest tighten with guilt, his bad mood was probably Wukong’s fault.

Wukong stroked the cat in the sling, she was brought for emotional support. Poor mama cat, heavily pregnant and still had to follow the Monkey King’s stupid whims. He lifted his hand, he shouldn’t let her journey here be in vain, and knocked weakly on the door. 

“Hey Sandy, could’ya open the door? It’s me… Wukong.”

There were no sounds for a few moments. He wondered if Sandy had gone out. Or maybe he didn’t even want to see his face and was just ignoring him. Wukong chewed his lip as he held back the stinging in his eyes.

Then, the door miraculously opened. Sandy poked his head out from the other side. “Good afternoon,” he said, looking relieved, and Wukong wondered how he wasn’t being angrily yelled at and chased away yet. Instead, he was invited in as usual. He placed the pregnant orange cat next to Sherbert, like usual. It was as if their fight never occurred. 

Yet the scarecrow propped up by the door was a sore reminder. It surprised him that Sandy kept it. Wukong thought he would’ve chucked the gift into the ocean after what happened. There was still a stale, awkward feeling in the air. Sandy’s therapy cats all seemed to regard him with apprehension, watching them closely with their big eyes and their tails curled anxiously. He didn’t feel very welcomed.

He sat on one side of the couch. Wukong curled his legs with his knees under his chin and squeezed into the corner to give Sandy as much space as he’d want from him. Instead, the big guy settled near the middle, seeming rather comfortable with himself. 

He was less confident when he opened his mouth, though. “Would you like some, um …” Sandy awkwardly spoke as he played with his hands, looking incredibly softened with the sunlight streaming onto him from the broken window.

“I’m sorry,” Wukong suddenly exclaimed. His voice quivered, the stinging in his eyes became overpowering and burned. Sandy looked at him, a bit surprised.

“I didn’t kill anyone, I promise. I didn’t even hurt them,” the words rushed out quickly, a bit panicked. “The blood was from the demon kid who tripped and scraped his own hand, all the stuff I got from the scarecrow was what the humans broke.”

“Mr. Monkey King…”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated like an idiot, muffled in the fabric on his knees. He wasn’t sure what else to say. If this really was the last time he spoke with Sandy, he needed to get everything out before it was too late. There was so much he wanted to say, but he’d never been that good with words.

“It’s okay, Mr. Monkey King. I forgive you. I’m also to blame for being upset with you, even though you were only trying to protect me.”

“I love you,” he blurted out. There was silence for a few moments, his heart beating much too fast for the amount of seconds that passed.

Wukong thought he’d be walked out on, or mocked , or thrown out or sneered at or just ignored if he was lucky , but then, “Thanks, I love you, too,” Sandy said, much easier than Wukong felt.

“I haven’t loved anyone like this in a long time,” Wukong confessed, a bit horrified. “Not since Master or Zhu BaJie or Sha WuJing or Ao Lie ,” the names felt like they were punched out of him, spilling onto the ground between them with no filter.

For a second, he panicked. He wanted to wipe away the repulsive vulnerability with a rag or maybe just move on and pretend like he didn’t confess such a thing. Nobody wanted to hear that kind of shit. Not from a foolish, ancient demon. He glanced at Sandy, his head was a bit spacey from the rush of mixed emotions.

Sandy nodded solemnly, then he gave a few light chuckles. ”Then I’ll have to thank you for giving me the honors. I’ll treat your love well.”

Wukong felt a bit defenseless and scared, like one wrong breath from Sandy would completely knock him over and make him clam up, but he should’ve known by now that Sandy was too caring for such a misstep. Somehow, he always reacted differently from Wukong’s expectations.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

Sandy’s eyes trembled, looking conflicted as he pursed his lips. He nodded, his face full of understanding. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be more careful and take better care of myself from now on.”

“Promise?” Wukong followed up quickly. His tone was whine-y and disgusting, like a petulant child, but Sandy nodded anyway.

“I promise,” Sandy smiled. “I won’t let myself get hurt.”

Wukong pursed his lips as a last attempt to stop the tears, “So, you don’t hate me?”

Sandy looked appalled, even more so than when he thought Wukong had killed those humans. “I could never hate you!”

“I thought you were gonna kick me out and– and– ” Wukong gasped as he started crying, feeling particularly pathetic and weak. “And you weren’t gonna wanna see me again, and we’d never have tea together again and I’d never get to spend time with you again– I didn’t want you to hate me–”

A quick shuffle against the fabric of the couch and Sandy was hugging him, holding him gently, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to feel that way ever again.” Wukong’s tears were probably disgusting against his bare skin, but Sandy didn’t seem to care. “You’re my dear friend, Mr. Monkey King. Even if we have disagreements, I won’t let it break our friendship.”

“Okay,” Wukong sniffed. He felt warm and weirdly safe, he didn’t want the hug to end.

~

“The weasel kid visited you this morning?” His voice was still disgusting from his crying, but they were sitting outside now. The air was better and the ocean breeze carried away the stuffiness in his eyes and nose.

Sandy smiled merrily as he swung his legs against the edge of the dock, “Yep! He came with his older sibling. Promised to come back together with supplies to clean with and rebuild some of the broken crates.”

“So he got caught,” Wukong sipped from his cup, genuinely impressed. “I didn’t think he’d actually apologize either. I was fine with him just not showing up ever again.”

“That’d be difficult,” Sandy nudged Wukong’s shoulder teasingly. “His sibling is my close friend, they work at the animal clinic I frequent.”

“Ah,” Wukong gasped, remembering the blond assistant at his cat’s ultrasound. “No wonder his human glamor looked familiar.”

“Yeah, they were really angry with him, made him kowtow and apologize to me and everything,” he chuckled cutely into his hand. “It seemed like my friend didn’t know about any of his activities until today.”

“And you knew?” Wukong caught on. “You knew one of the people in that group was their brother but you didn’t say anything about it?”

Sandy pursed his lips, clearly still a bit uncomfortable with the mention of the group of hooligans. “I recognized him since the first time they came around. The group was nervous and jittery in the beginning, just wandering around the dock and jumped when I came out the boat to greet them.” 

He looked off into the horizon line of the ocean and heaved a deep breath. “When I was younger, I used to be called all kinds of things,” Sandy spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “ ‘Monster’ was one of the common names. I’d get targeted less than other demons with more animal-like features, but I’d still have run-ins with some aggressive and close-minded people.” 

“I tried to act more ‘human’ for a while, but I was just mocked more in the end. ‘ Tamed’ and ‘domesticated’ would be the new words whispered about me. I was very angry for some time after that, I became an aggressive person and did a lot of things I regret now. But I was just young and so upset. It seemed that no matter what I did, they’d only see me as ‘other’ .” Sandy clenched a fist before he sighed again and released his hand.

He gave the King a cheerless smile. “So I guess I just understood that demon kid. I felt bad for him– all of them. I figured they were probably just some troubled youth going through some problems, so I sat them down that first time and offered them tea,” he gave a self-deprecating laugh.

Wukong pursed his lips. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to hurt Sandy’s kindness, it was his favorite part about the big guy, but he also didn’t want him to be so passive to the point of being bullied.

Sandy seemed to have read his mind as he continued, “Seems like it was the wrong move because the harassment got worse. I talked with my old therapist on the phone and then I opted to just swat at them with a broom if they come. And that only made them more confident.”

“Your therapist told you to just swat at them with a broom?” Wukong repeated incredulously. From what Sandy told him before, he thought therapists were supposed to be helpful and give good advice.

“Oh jeez, no, haha ,” Sandy chortled. “She was very furious with them and immediately told me to call the police on them,” he leaned back on his hands. “I didn’t though. I’d really hate for them to get stains on their permanent record over this… I know how much harder life could get with a history of crime.”

Wukong stared at Sandy’s side profile, a bit shattered. “The world’s treated you unfairly but you still managed to be kind. You’re a strong guy,” he offered weakly with a pat on the big shoulder.

“You think so?” Sandy smiled shyly. “I guess I just can’t help but think that if someone was as patient for me, like how I could be for them, then I wouldn’t have made as many mistakes. But I guess it was silly of me to compare myself to other people, especially since I didn’t know them very well.”

“I don’t think you’re silly! Sure it was pretty naive to let it happen for so long— I mean, no offense… but I don’t think it’s dumb or silly to be compassionate,” Wukong wrangled with his fingers before the orange cat bumped against his hands, and he changed his fidgeting to give her head rubs. “I think the world could do well with more people like you, y’know, understanding people who could give others a chance. You just gotta… put your foot down when it’s serious.”

“Thanks Mr. Monkey King. I guess I’m pretty bad at that huh? The puttin’ my foot down thing… I just don’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”

“Hey, I get it,” Wukong said, awkwardly rubbing Sandy’s shoulder in a way that he hoped was soothing. “If you want, I can always do the putting for you. But if I hurt anyone, it wouldn’t be an accident,” he smirked, only half-joking.

“Mr. Monkey King!” Sandy chided with a chuckle. They both laughed for a bit, the afternoon breeze had dropped in temperature and their teas had long gone cold, but Wukong didn’t feel the cold.

He still felt warm and content. The cat was purring in his lap and he could almost start chirping if he was less conscious, his tail wrapped securely around her to make sure she didn’t tip and fall into the water.

“The weasel demon kid,” Sandy started. “When he apologized, he also told me you helped him bandage his wound after his little accident. That was very kind of you.”

“Oh… yeah,” Wukong clumsily ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, I never should’ve doubted you, it’s just–”

“It’s alright, I get it. Thinkin’ back now, the whole bloody scarecrow thing was really misleading,” Wukong laughed dryly. He didn’t really want to think about the fight again, the atmosphere right now was so good, he didn’t want to ice it again.

“It was, a little bit,” Sandy agreed with a lopsided smile. He bit his lip, clearly not satisfied with dropping this conversation. “You’re a good person… you know that, right?

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Wukong said dismissively.

Sandy looked at him with a rather heartbroken-looking expression. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“I know ,” he assured with a slap on Sandy’s back. He lifted his chin pridefully, putting up some layers of walls again. “I’m a great guy. You don’t have to tell me bud, I already know.”

“Alright,” Sandy relented. He wrapped an arm around Wukong and pulled him close. “I love you. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend.”

I’m the lucky one , Wukong wanted to say. But no , he decided as he rubbed his nose bashfully, that’d be too gushy now.

“Thanks bud,” he said instead, smiling as he tentatively leaned his head against Sandy’s side.