#Bluekong au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arashikitten · 3 years

Text

Of Molten Gold and Frozen Silver- Part one

This is a collection of the first three chapters for my fic, “Of Molten Gold and Frozen Silver”, as celebration for me finally getting an ao3 account! Thank you to everyone who has read this fic, chapter 4 is coming along! Without further ado, here’s Of Molten Gold and Frozen Silver part 1.

When Qi Xiaotian had gone to Flower Fruit Mountain that morning, he’d gone expecting either brutal sparring, grueling physical labor, or, if Sun Wukong was feeling particularly lazy, an hour or so of meditation.

He had not been expecting to find Sun Wukong hunched over in pain, gripping his head and snarling like a wild animal. He also hadn’t expected to see a familiar bluish-white smoke slowly circling the Monkey king, accompanied by the very worrying sound of small, whispering voices that seemed to fill up the cave. Qi Xiaotian felt ice settle into his veins. He recognized this, he’d seen this before, just a week prior.

Baigujing. The White Bone spirit.

He should’ve run. The moment he’d seen the white smoke, he should’ve booked it to the hills, rushed back to the city to sound the alarm for everyone, to save as many people as possible from the oncoming rampage.

But… he couldn’t. Sun Wukong, his mentor, his idol, was in trouble. He needed help, and Qi Xiaotian would be damned if he didn’t at least try to do something. Slowly, carefully, he reached out toward the shaking Monkey King.

“Sun Wukong? Hey, um, are… are you-“

“Run.” Qi Xiaotian froze, the air leaving his lungs as terror flooded his veins like ice. Wukong’s voice was raspy, tight with pain, and each syllable trembled in the musty air of the cave. This thing- this demon, it was hurting his mentor, and Xiaotian felt his heart wrench at the notion. He needed to help.

“Wukong-“

“Xiaotian, you need to run. I can’t… I can’t hold Baigujing back for much longer. It’s way...way stronger than before, I won’t last long. I thought, thought that I could handle it, but…” the monkey king gasped as his knees gave out, sending him to the hard stone floor. Qi Xiaotian rushed forward, even as Wukong began to growl like a rabid animal, tail lashing back and forth like an irate cat. He reached forward, almost touching Sun Wukong, when-

“STAY BACK!” A pale gold force rippled out from the monkey king’s form, sending Xiaotian flying back. He winced as he slowly began to push himself up, a twinge of pain in his side confirming the presence of a quickly-forming bruise. He looked up at his mentor, questions on his tongue-

When he finally saw Sun Wukong’s face. And every muscle, every nerve ending, went cold as terror crashed full-force into him like a tsunami, sending him plunging into the waves, too disoriented to know which way was up even as he was drowning in fear.

Dark, empty shadows obscured to top half of Wukong’s face, leaving Xiaotian unable to see the familiar golden glow of his eyes. The bottom half of his face, the part Xiaotian could see, was pale and washed out, appearing a dusky gray-purple like that of a corpse. His mouth was twisted in an ugly snarl, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the cave. But that wasn’t what scared Qi Xiaotian.

No, the thing that scared Qi Xiaotian was the singular, glowing blue eye that pierced through the shadows of the Monkey King’s face, pale smoke leaking from the outer corner like tears. And, despite the cruel snarl and the tense, aggravated posture…

That eye was shining with fear. Sun Wukong… was scared.

Sun Wukong. Who had fought countless demons. Sun Wukong, who had thwarted death countless times, becoming immortal four times over in the process. Sun Wukong, who had gone up against the entire Court of Heaven, and was only stopped by the Buddha himself. Sun Wukong, who was strong enough to lift an entire mountain with ease.

Sun Wukong, who had saved his life…

Was afraid. Was terrified of whatever was trying to take over his body, trying to trap him in his own mind. His mentor, his powerful, wise, unflappable mentor was scared, and Xiaotian could only watch in horror as he began to succumb to the demon.

“Kid… listen… to me. You… you need to- to run. Go- go and warn the others. Please, before… before it’s too late.” Gods, Wukong sounded so desperate, so terrified, and it made Xiaotian’s heart crack in his chest. His throat felt tight as he held back a sob, praying to whoever was listening to please, please put a stop to this, please don’t let this be happening.

“Sun Wukong, please, no…” it came out a whisper, trembling with unshed emotion.

“Kid… run. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to- to hurt you. Not when… not when you’ve done… so much for- for me. Please. Run.” Qi Xiaotian gasped softly as he saw tears slowly trail down the Monkey King’s face, even as he could see the traces of his mentor began to leave that one blue eye…

And suddenly Wukong’s face relaxed, a small fond smile taking it’s place over the snarl, that glowing blue eye filling with affection and kindness and love-

Xiaotian’s breath stuttered as he stepped back. His eyes burned with tears that he refused to let fall, trembling hands covering his mouth as he began to sob. Wukong cared about him, cared about him not just as his successor, but his-

Xiaotian turned and ran as fast as he could, eyes screwed shut against the pain and wind as he finally let his tears fall.

Sun Wukong watched him go, smile filling with relief. And even as the White Bone spirit finally won, even as pain flooded every nerve ending, even as his heart started to shatter…

He knew his kid was safe.

————————————————————————

Sun Wukong was falling. He had been for a while now, the pitch dark that surrounded him obscuring any view of a potential floor or walls or anything. At first it had scared him a bit, but now…

Now it was just straight-up boring. One can only stare at nothing for so long before their mind begins to wander, and Wukong really didn’t want that to happen. Especially not after…

Wukong felt the fur on the back of his neck raise as he flashed back to what happened in the cave. When the Baigujing had first appeared, he’d attempted to destroy it like he had over four millennia ago. It should’ve been easy.

But… something had changed. The Baigujing had vanished as Wukong had attempted to strike it, only to reappear right behind him. He’d attempted to leap out of the way, to fly out of its reach.

He hadn’t been fast enough. Before he could even turn his head, the White Bone spirit had flown into his chest, drenching him in ice that seemed to fill his lungs. His vision had become a haze of blue and white, blinding him while insidious little voices whispered in his ears all of his doubts and insecurities-

And then the kid had shown up. His kid had shown up. He hadn’t even noticed until the kid’s voice had cut through the whispers, sounding worried and confused.

He’d been terrified then, terrified that the White Bone spirit would take him over then and make him hurt his successor, hurt Qi Xiaotian. So he’d begged the boy to run, to warn everyone in the city to evacuate. Of course, the Baigujing hadn’t taken to kindly to that, and another surge of it’s power had sent him to his knees.

He recalled, vividly, the raw overwhelming terror on Xiaotian’s face as he’d turned to face him, recalled with painful clarity how tears had begun to form in the kid’s eyes as he pleaded with Wukong, begging him not to go. And when he had realized the fear in the kid’s eyes wasn’t because he was afraid of him, but rather for him…

Wukong grit his teeth as he remembered his final words to Xiaotian, and the feelings that had accompanied them. There was pain and fear, yes but- there was something else, something that was new to him. It had roared within him like a blazing fire, sending beams of light through his soul like a miniature sun, a sudden need to protect his kid-

Wukong was jarred from the memory at that. His what? He’d called Qi Xiaotian his- his what?

My kid, and there it was, that warm feeling in his chest that screamed at him to find Xiaotian and wrap him up in a blanket and protect- Sun Wukong blinked. When the hell had that happened? When had he become so attached? When had he stopped viewing Xiaotian as his successor, and started viewing him as his kid?

Sun Wukong thought back. These feelings… they’d been strong during their last encounter in the cave, too strong to be entirely new. But he couldn’t remember any other-

Wukong’s head shot up. The Macaque. When he’d seen Xiaotian being pinned to the mountain by his own staff, the Six-eared Macaque looming over him, he’d felt that rush of protective instinct roar within him, screeching at him to get the kid out of there, to get him to safety, to get him away from that monster-

Wukong shook at the memory, Xiaotian’s look of terror and betrayal from that day had been burned into his retinas. He hated that look, hated that the kid had been subjected to that kind of terror not just once, but twice now.

But most of all, Sun Wukong hated that both times, Xiaotian had been put in danger because of Wukong’s own shortcomings. His kid, his kid, had been put in life threatening danger, and Sun Wukong had either been almost too late, or the direct source of that danger.

And now he was stuck here in this endless void, a prisoner in his own mind, unable to protect the one person in the world that he cares about.

“Well, well, well. This is certainly new.” Wukong started, head whipping around to see-

The Baigujing’s glowing blue-white eyes stared out at him from the darkness. It took the form of a thin, pale woman in a flimsy sheer white dress, light blue markings in the appearance of bones marring otherwise smooth, uniform skin.

It looked like a corpse.

The Baigujing grinned, mouth stretching far too wide, showing off it’s rotten gums. Wukong felt ice flood his insides.

“I never took you for the fatherly type, but three thousand years is plenty of time for change. Although, I do have to wonder: why him, of all people? He’s so… immature. Easily distracted. Demanding. Sloppy. The kids… pathetic.”

Fury burned in Wukong at the words. Yes, Xiaotian was a bit immature, and he didn’t have much in the way of an attention span, but he was a good kid. He was smart even if most people didn’t notice, and he had a drive unlike any that Wukong had ever seen. And Xiaotian was far, far from pathetic.

However, the fire of rage was quickly doused by the cold realization: Baigujing knew.

It knew about Qi Xiaotian (the protective feeling started to grow in his chest).

It knew about his relationship to Qi Xiaotian (that feeling grew brighter, hotter in his lungs like a bonfire).

And it knew that hurting Qi Xiaotian would break him (the feeling was overwhelming him, consuming every other thought until the only thing that mattered was Xiaotian Xiaotian Xiaotian Xiaotian-

Sun Wukong was consumed by golden light that shattered the obsidian dark like a mirror, and the Baigujing flinched back to shield it’s eyes from the blinding light. It felt it’s will being pushed back by the Monkey King, his bright white light stinging the dark tendrils of it’s control.

For just a moment, Wukong was able to see. For a split, vital moment, he was in control.

A moment was all he needed. He knew he wouldn’t last long. Already he could feel the Baigujing starting to take back control, could feel himself slipping from his own mind. He needed to slow the Baigujing down, just enough for Xiaotian to get help.

Enough so his kid could be safe. He would not let him down this time.

Sun Wukong braced himself as he grabbed a sharp rock and raised it above his head.

He could hear the whispers of the Baigujing now, getting louder and louder-

He saw Qi Xiaotian’s face, looking up at him with a happy little smile, eyes shining with warmth and admiration in a memory long past-

Wukong slammed the stone into his knee, snapping it in two, right as he slipped back into the obsidian void.

———————————————————————

Red son restlessly paced the unfinished halls of the new lair, dark red coat silently fluttering as he did. It was a nervous habit of his, something he’d developed fairly recently, and he felt as if he might explode if he stopped.

The events of the past week were still fresh on his mind, and now played a starring role in his nightmares whenever he tried to sleep.

His father- his dear, beloved father- had attempted to kill him. His father, whom he was absolutely and unshakably loyal to, had called both him and his mother traitors. His father had called him weak. Useless. A disgrace. And even though Red son knew his father wasn’t in his right state of mind, even though he knew now that his father had been possessed…

It had begun to plant these seeds of doubt in him. After all, he’d had yet to reclaim the staff from that infernal Noodle boy, and the few victories he had were only achieved with the help of his mother or father.

He’d have yet to win a fight entirely on his own.

The thought stung, more than Red Son was willing to admit.

Then there was the actual fight. The one against the Demon Bull king. The one with Qi Xiaotian.

Qi Xiaotian. The Noodle Boy. The one who currently wielded the Monkey King’s staff. He had crashed into Red Son’s life with all of the reckless force and chaos of an out-of-control freight train, upending all of his hard work with a practiced ease. He frustrated Red Son to no end, and yet at the same time, Red son had found himself anticipating every fight against the Noodle Boy with a giddy, childish excitement.

Of course, he’d still hated him. Despised him for even thinking that he could stand up to the might of the Demon Bull family, regardless of whether or not he had the power and yes, fine, skill, to back it up. It was an insult, for a mere mortal to even consider the idea that they could even begin to compare to him, the great Red Son!

But now, everything Red Son had felt toward the loud, excitable man had been thrown into turmoil. And the worst part was that, looking back, Red Son could tell that this wasn’t just from the team up against his father. No, these complex feelings had been there, as far as Red Son knew, since the race for the immortal peaches. They had just been overshadowed by frustration and his preconceived ideas about the Monkey King’s successor. The fight a week ago had simply brought these feelings to his attention, strengthening them in the process.

Which, considering what exactly these feelings were, and who they were directed toward, was not good for Red’s already strained relationship with his parents.

Red son blushed as he remembered the fight against the Demon Bull King. He and his mother were crouched in a fighting position, his mother summoning her massive fan and Red Son already calling flames to his fingertips. His father, locked in the possession of the Baigujing, had charged at them, roaring like a wild animal…

Until Xiaotian, in true Noodle boy fashion, came careening full-speed smack-dab in the middle of the Bull King’s path, not unlike their first meeting. Red son, despite past experiences with Xiaotian literally dropping in on him and his family, had been surprised.

He’d been even more surprised when, without even thinking about it, he’d sworn to fight alongside the very person he’d been trying to kill not one week prior. He hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t even been suspicious of Xiaotian at first. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, completely instinctual. That in itself was concerning, because his first, instinctual reaction to Noodle Boy showing up in their lair to fight his father should not be “let me help fight with you”, regardless of the circumstances. Granted, his mother had also agreed to help Xiaotian fight, but she clearly hadn’t been happy about it.

Red son, on the other hand… despite his history with Xiaotian, despite their numerous past conflicts, despite the VERY IMPORTANT FACT THAT HE AND XIAOTIAN WERE SUPPOSED TO BE FUCKING ENEMIES, Red Son had felt his heart leap at the prospect of fighting next to the monkey kid, instead of against him. And he’d found that he’d actually really enjoyed fighting with Xiaotian, made even more alarming when, hours after the fact, Red son had found himself daydreaming about fighting alongside Xiaotian again, of sparring with him on the rooftops or in the mountains, of talking about old stories and myths and shows they like… of just being together.

Of course, when Red Son finally caught himself, he’d denied absolutely everything, blaming it all on the leftover adrenaline and anticipation from the battle, telling himself that it was a one time thing, and nothing more.

That argument had been torn to fucking pieces when, that night, Red son dreamt that he and Xiaotian had become friends, sparring together on the rooftops of the city and sitting together at a small cafe, chatting leisurely over coffee and tea. They had rented out a small apartment together, in between the old lair and that little noodle shop he knew Xiaotian worked at. In his dream, they had gone to the apartment and sat on a small, gold and red couch to watch some nonsensical movie. They had talked about something that Red son couldn’t remember, when suddenly he’d found the noodle boy leaning up against him, head resting on Red’s shoulder, fast asleep. It felt so… so normal, so calm and happy and warm, it felt like home. It made his heart race, made his stomach flutter like a hummingbird’s wings, and he couldn’t help the rising joy and affection and love-

Red son had woken feeling more content than he had his entire life, and yet he still ached for more. Then he’d fully woken up, and that warm, brimming satisfaction was replaced with cold horror. This went beyond leftover adrenaline, beyond a stupid passing thought. This was real, this was serious. He liked Xiaotian, really liked him if that dream was anything to go by.

But he couldn’t possibly like the Noodle boy like that: they were enemies, constantly fighting each other, constantly at odds. There was also the very important fact that Red son despised the Noodle Boy, and the noodle boy more than likely felt the same way about him.

But even as Red son tried to argue, he knew that the first part, at least wasn’t true, and that it hadn’t been true since… since…

Red son blanched. When had he stopped despising the noodle boy? When had the fiery, burning rage softened into something less, had become simple annoyance as opposed to withering vitriol? Most importantly, when in the fresh, ever loving fuck, did the idea of living with Qi Xiaotian become more appealing, more tantalizing, than the idea of ruling the world alongside his father and mother?

It made no sense. How could he go from despising someone with every fiber of his being to… to… to whatever the fuck this was??? How could he go from wanting to from wanting to kill someone every time you saw them to wanting to live with them??? To wanting to spar with them, to wanting to go to coffee shops together, wanting to watch movies together, wanting to hold their hand and hug them and talk with them and….

Red had been so caught up in his head, so caught up in his thoughts about the Monkey kid, that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been walking to his makeshift room until he was standing at his new desk (there were already some darkened scorch marks from when he’d caught himself daydreaming about Xiaotian again, as Red had caught himself wondering what it would feel like to kiss the spiky-haired younger man. The memory still brought a harsh flush to his cheeks.), holding a small messy sketch that he’d done a couple of days ago. It was of Xiaotian, who, in the sketch, had the staff leaning against his left shoulder, one hand in the pocket of that gaudy orange hoodie, and a wide, easy smile on his face.

He’d hidden it in the small, hidden drawer on his new desk, to ensure that his mother didn’t find it. He’d been unable to bring himself to destroy it, and had taken to storing it in one of the pockets of his trench coat. He often found himself taking it out to stare at whenever he was feeling particularly stressed, or when he felt as though his parents were whispering about him behind his back, scorning him for being weak and a disappointment and-

No, Red Son growled to himself. They do not hate you. They do not think that of you, they love you, they support you, they are proud of you. But there was still that doubt, that lingering fear that the Baigiujing had planted, and for some reason, that little, shoddy, rough sketch of someone that should only serve to inflame those feelings of inadequacy was now his main source of comfort.

How strange, that his family was now the cause of his fear while his enemy was his source of comfort and warmth? But then again, Xiaotian had been turning Red son’s world on its head since that fateful day, when he’d fallen from the sky as though the Buddha himself had plucked him up by the hood of his hoodie and plopped him right into Red son’s life.

Perhaps he had. After all, Xiaotian was the Monkey King's successor, and he’d shown up at the exact moment that the Demon Bull king had been freed, and the staff along with it.

Red Son sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shoved the Xiaotian sketch into his coat pocket. Clearly, he’d been cooped up for too long.

Perhaps a nice walk through the edge of the city would do him some good. Besides, what were the chances of him running into the noodle boy there?

————————— ————————— —————————

His lungs burned as he ran, heart pounding in time with his footfalls. He couldn’t stop though, not until everyone was safe. And that meant running with everything he had, if only so he could get to the city in time to warn of the incoming threat.

Tears stung his eyes again at the thought. His mentor, his idol, had become a monster right in front of him. And the worst part, the worst part was that there was nothing that Xiaotian could’ve done to stop it. In that moment, he’d been nothing but a bystander, unable to do anything but sit by and watch as one of the most powerful beings in all of China, his mentor, was possessed by a demon.

Gods, Wukong had been so scared in that moment. Xiaotian had seen the small tremble in his paws, the way he’d recoiled from Xiaotian’s touch like a wounded animal.

And then there was the screaming. Xiaotian had gotten maybe 10 miles away from the mountain when it had started, loud and high and pained, a polyvocal screech that dipped between Wukong’s lower roars and the high raspy cries of the Baigujing. It had been close, too, no more than a few miles back, sending terror shooting through Xiaotian so hard and fast it had made him nauseous. He’d been rooted to the spot, eyes wide and hands clenched into trembling fists, tears starting back up and making his vision blur. He had stumbled back, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs that burned his lungs and made his throat tighten almost like a noose around his neck.

Wukong was hurt, and if the polyvocal quality of those screams was anything to go by, he trying to fight back for control. But eventually, Wukong’s voice had died out, submerged under the raspy, high voice of the Baigujing, and Xiaotian had to turn and run toward the city. The Baigujing was coming after all, and this time…

This time Xiaotian wasn’t sure he could win this fight.

So he’d continued to run, the constant mantra of don’t let them catch you don’t let them catch you the only thing keeping him from collapsing where he was. His mind kept playing tricks on him, too, with small wisps of translucent blue-white teasing the edge of his vision, and every dark shadow and oddly shaped log appearing like Wukong to Xiaotian’s tear-blurred eyes.

By the time he could finally see the edge of the city, Xiaotian’s nerves were raw and frayed, his lungs burning like they were on fire. There was no time to stop though. The possessed Wukong couldn’t be that far behind, and there were so many people he needed to get out…

But even as Xiaotian barreled toward the skyline, he had a realization that made his stomach drop like a stone: even if he was able to evacuate everyone in time, how in the hell was he gonna get anyone to believe him? Sure, the Gold and Silver demon brothers caused some issues every now and then, and the Demon Bull family had wrecked the city on more than one occasion, but Sun Wukong hadn’t been seen by anyone but himself for at least the last 300 years. On top of that, Sun Wukong was supposed to be one of the most powerful beings in all of China, preceded only by Guanyin and the Buddha himself. Something like the Baigujing, which had been considered a low level demon before now, should not have been able to take control of Sun Wukong so easily, or at all really.

So how, how was he going to get anyone besides Zhu Dachu, Long Xiaojiao, Tang Shifu, and Sha Wujing to believe him? And once he did that, however long it would take, how was he going to be able to evacuate the entire city before the Baigujing got here-

Xiaotian’s train of thought was abruptly derailed when he slammed into someone at full speed, bowling whoever it was over and sending Xiaotian himself skidding a good few feet in the dirt. He gasped in pain as his already bruised side slammed into the ground, no doubt aggravating the injury even more. He winced as he sat up, head spinning slightly as he did. Xiaotian lifted his hand to his forehead to assess the damage when the person he’d slammed into finally spoke.

“I ought to burn you to a crisp, you filthy peasant! Look what you did to my coat! How dare you- wait a minute. Qi Xiaot- I mean, Noodle Boy? What are you doing here?” Xiaotian froze as dread flooded him. No. No no no nononono. Why, out of everyone in the city, did I have to run into the one demon that tries to murder me on a regular basis?

Of course, out of the 20+ million people that Xiaotian could’ve bumped into, Red Son was the one person in his way.

Great.

—————- —————- ————— —————-

Of course, out of everyone that Red Son could’ve encountered, it was the damned Noodle Boy who had come barreling into him like a bat out of hell, jacket and pants torn and muddy (there was also a small red stain on his side that Red chose not to think about at that moment). The force at which the boy had slammed into him had sent Red Son flying, landing on his back with a thud and tearing up his once pristine trench coat.

That alone had incensed Red Son enough that he didn’t realize who had run into him at first. It was only when he turned to see that familiar orange hoodie, that signature bright red headband, that he had realized that it was Qi Xiaotian.

He’d been so shocked that he’d almost accidentally called him by his actual name, a slip up that he made sure to rectify quickly as possible. Couldn’t have the Noodle Boy thinking that he was important enough for the great Red Son to know his name, after all.

He watched as Xiaotian froze upon hearing his voice, and worry started to knaw at him when the usually confident and boisterous delivery boy started shaking, dread filling his eyes like tar.

It made something in his gut clench, seeing that look on Xiaotian. It reminded Red of war refugees, with their wide eyes that weren’t seeing anything that was truly there, lost in a world ravaged first by fire, then machine gun fire, then missiles. It was a look that spoke of horrific, monstrous things, things that would take even the most resilient of men and empty them until they were nothing more than husks, their spirits broken by the relentless waves of death and destruction.

It was a look that Xiaotian never should’ve had to wear, but here he was now, right in front of Red Son, beaten up and covered in dirt and bruises and cuts that he did not know the origins of.

Red Son was shaken from his musings when the Noodle Boy had jumped up, one hand reaching back for the staff and the other hand reaching out flat in front of him. He had already started to back away, and Red Son was struck again by just how haggard the usually energic boy looked then.

“Listen Red Son. I’m not here to fight right now, ok? I know you probably couldn’t care less, but there’s a very powerful demon coming at the city right now, and I don’t know if I’m gonna have enough time to evacuate everyone as is, so if you could please just-“

“What do mean, ‘a powerful demon’? Shouldn’t you be able to handle it, what with having all of Wukong’s powers and whatnot?” At that, an almost pained look flitted across Noodle Boy’s face, and the hand that had been going for the staff suddenly went to his side.

“That’s…. that’s the- the problem.” Dread turned to alarm at that. What the hell did that mean? Surely there wasn’t a demon powerful enough to take down Sun Wukong in their own, right? Not even his whole family could claim that, and they were one of the most powerful demon families around.

“It’s… the Baigujing, it…. it escaped to- to Flower Fruit Mountain.” Red Son’s stomach dropped like a stone. Shit. Shit. His father had been a tough fight under the influence of the White Bone Spirit, and had it not been for Xiaotian’s arrival, there was a very good chance he and his mother would not be alive today. If the Baigujing had possessed Sun Wukong….

“When I… when I got there this morning for- to train, with, with Wukong, it was already…. it was….” Xiaotian was shaking now, and Red Son hated just how much he understood the pain in Xiaotian’s eyes. After all, hadn’t he been in the Noodle Boy’s exact position not even two weeks ago? Hadn’t he known the terror, the betrayal, of seeing the person he looked up to more than anyone else on the planet turned against him, becoming a monster under the influence of some monstrous demon?

Hadn’t he watched as his father, his loving, caring father, for whom he had dedicated his life toward, came rushing at him with the full intent to kill?

If Xiaotian hadn’t shown up then, Red would be dead. As much as he hated to admit it (his heart jumped in spite of himself), he owed the Noodle Boy. He owed him so, so much, more than he would likely ever know.

Sun Wukong had been possessed by the Baigujing. Xiaotian had, more likely than not, seen it happen. Sun Wukong, possessed by the Baigujing, was most likely heading toward the city with the intent to level everything within a 10-mile radius, and then some. If they wanted to limit casualties, then they either needed to evacuate everyone…

Or, Xiaotian would have to face Wukong outside of the city. On his own. Where he would most likely die, scared and confused, murdered by his idol.

Absolutely not.

Before Red Son could reconsider, before he could even begin to think about the implications of what he was about to do, Red Son held his hand out to Qi Xiaotian. Determination burned in him, chasing away the icy tendrils of dread and replacing them with the barest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could do something good for once. Maybe he could fix his mistakes, become better than what he was

Maybe he could become someone worth loving.

And it was with that final thought that Red Son reached out to his enemy-turned-rival-turned-something else, one hand gripping the small sketch still in his pocket, and said

“Let me help.”

#monkie kid #qi xiaotian #MK #sun wukong #monkey king #the baigujing #Bluekong au #sun Wukong gets possessed by the white bone spirit au #Red Son #spicynoodleshipping #angst #long post #I couldn’t figure out how to link posts so I did this instead #at least you guys don’t have to search through the monkie kid tag on my blog anymore right?#also chapter 4 will come out eventually #I just finally hit writer’s block I guess #so here’s this for now #also cover art!!#yes I did it myself #i had to struggle with adobe fresco being a little shit #but I figured it out #so you get some finished cover art too!#hooray!#but you also get a metric buttload of angst #everyone’s gonna need therapy after this #everyone #especially Xiaotian #and Wukong #I have this whole thing mapped out in my head I just need to figure out the dialogue #and you know

74 notes · View notes

arashikitten · 4 years