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So, for the Eclipse Kings,

I feel that it is going to be very interesting when the kings go from seeing you(the reader) as a hanger on to their son, to their other child. I don't know how you plan to go about it, but this is an idea I had:

So, you're stuck here, for now at least. MK doesn't want to let you go, and the kings feel indebted to you enough to make sure you don't, like, starve. It could be worse, but you don't really want to stay.

And good news! You probably won't have to. You're not their kid. They don't care about you, beyond a sense of obligation, really. And while MK is basically your brother, siblings don't always live right next to each other. You can leave and promise to come back or something. Macaque, at least, will probably be glad to get your pathetic, scarred, human self out of his pristine home.

It'll be fine. You can work with this.

You can work with the mat on the floor, still more comfortable than your old hut, and the clothes not quite made for you, but still better than anything you had, and the room that isn't yours, but it isn't cold, either. You'll probably leave in the spring, after this winter.

And then, something changes. Because things are starting to properly fit you, the only human in this palace, now.

You have a bed, now, and a room to go with it(although you and MK still tend to sleep closer together than not).

And you don't tend to hallucinate, but you must have, just now. Or else Macaque just introduced you and MK as his "kids".

And you can't be their kid, and be free. They just got MK back, after assuming he was dead. You've seen how closely they watch him. He'll probably never leave, or at least not anytime soon, and never for long.

Maybe you're misunderstanding things, you think. After all, they're not heartless. Wukong has always been prone to getting in other's personal space, surely him picking you up to show you something he thought you would like is a normal extension of that.

And even if they did care, you're human. That's got to be an issue, right? No one would accept a human as part of Flower Fruit Mountain's royal family. Also, you won't live half as long as them. Why would they get attached?

However, when someone is even half as powerful as these kings, it turns out that these are solvable problems, really.

And they have never been good about losing what's theirs. Especially not now that they decided they have more to lose.

(Sorry if this doesn't fit with what you're planning. I just had lots of thoughts.)

Eclipse Kings

Growing Accustomed

(Anon, this is exactly it. It’s little things. And I love how you write BTW?? It’s so good!)

The starting disparity is undeniable, even though it’s not malicious and sometimes necessary, and honestly even understandable.

MK gets steak with broth and rice. You get porridge and diced fruit. Fair- he’s got a stronger stomach than you, because you always made sure that he ate better, ate cleaner, ate more. Your stomach isn’t adjusted to anything above the literal bare minimum. He can process meat without losing his guts, you can’t.

So it’s actually the furthest thing from unfair, given that it’s custom catered to your needs. Hell, they even mix in honey to make it more palatable.

But only because they owe you.

So it’s nothing more than repaying a debt when they ensure that the maidservants have a full list of food appropriate to serve you, each meal shared on MK’s insistence- it’s nothing.

Not yet.

Your mat is nothing special to them, and at first they doubt that you’ll sleep well- then the kings see how deeply you rest, how hard it is to rouse you. It’s perfectly cozy, not to them, but to you. MK tells them you slept on the ground before, left the little bedding available to him. You slept cold and hungry, but he was warm and fed, draped in whatever you could scrounge up.

So they plan to make things a little cozier, maybe only to see how you’ll react, maybe only because MK refuses to use his own bed and instead sleeps on your chest, maybe only because every minute spent with or around you is another reminder that they owe you their son’s life a hundred times and several years over.

Which has Macaque wonder if you can’t be a little cozier, because maybe he owes you some comfort after the hell you endured to provide for his son.

He calls you to the washroom one day and gives you a few of his nicer supplies, a soothing cream for wounds in one jar, a lovely citrus perfume in another. Things he has because Wukong convinced him to love himself enough to indulge in luxuries, now shared with some little mortal that didn’t know such things existed before now.

You have scars, the same as him. Macaque pointlessly “punished” himself for the death of a son still-living, hungry and cold and dirty. You earned yours the hard way, by living as best you could to take care of MK.

You have the scars for the same reason, but yours are a thousand times more earned, less piteous, and far, far worse.

So he teaches you how to take care of them, stretches to work through when they start to ache, what to eat to loosen tension in the body, so on and so forth.

But only because he owes you. Nothing more.

Not yet.

(But you use that perfume each day, and the monkey certainly doesn’t miss how you brighten at the little taste of luxury.)

And MK- “Qi Xiaotian”, they say, trying hard to drill that lovely (it really is lovely, but you don’t think it fits him) name into your mouth, but it tastes bitter and wrong. He’s only ever been your little “Monkie Kid”, even before his years-long illusion (glamour, some call it) wore off.

MK, with all his love for you, anchors you in place.

Fine. That’s fine.

You can justify it. Reason your way through staying, never realizing that you’re adjusting.

You can’t leave because it’s too cold. Because you’re too hurt. Because there’s no easy way to find food. Because, a dozen times over, and the truth is that the only thing keeping you here is the prince.

“Qi Xiaotian”, alight with gleeful laughter, who refuses to sleep unless you’re within arm’s reach, who insists you share every new toy or treat the kings bring him. “You’re my big sibling,” he says, voice bright with conviction. “Why wouldn’t I share?”

It’s easy to let that logic soothe you. After all, MK’s the real reason you’re here. Without him, the kings wouldn’t even know you existed.

So you settle in a little more.

It’s not like you get used to all this, after all.

And then Sun Wukong grows a little more doting. Now your food is somewhat like theirs, tender cuts of meat served beside your porridge to help the adjustment back to solid and hearty food. Fruit juice in place of water. Bread with jam. Only a little bit of each, but your plate is more appealing, and you enjoy those meals a little more each day with all the new things you get to try.

He even grows playful once or twice, clinking his gilded goblet against your glass, pretending to toast with you.

You smile. It’s not the sort of fun orphans like you often get to have.

(He’s starting to cherish your smile. How cute! How sweet! No wonder you cheer his little Xiaotian up!)

You get tucked in sometimes, when you fall asleep and sprawl over MK, who cuddles into your chest like he always has- this means subjecting yourself to nightly check-ups from the kings, but they come with glasses of water and fluffy blankets, so who cares?

They tuck you both in, mostly because any form of separation would be impossible.

And maybe because it’s just cute to see their kids sleeping happily and; more importantly, safely.

Then Macaque wants to change your wardrobe. He calls you in one day, right back to the washroom from before.

Has it been months already?

Weren’t you supposed to leave when spring came blooming through?

He drapes a new hanfu over your shoulders- the last one was shabbier, duller. It was a non-distinct blue and dull white, but this one is black with gold embroidery. He ties a silk sash around your waist and then pulls a fur-lined cape over your shoulders.

It’s warm. It has to be warm, because there’s a cold chill coming in and you’ll “need” to be comfortable through it. There’s no explanation given as to why it matters to him, so you just assume that the king is being a good host.

After all, it’s not like he cares about you.

…right?

It can’t be.

But he goes a step further and tends to your hair with a vast array of implements and products, trimming the uneven edges and setting it with many different creams for restoration. And then applies a few balms for your lips, your nose…

So eventually you’ve whiled the whole day away being doted on and in some manner “soothed”, feeling genuinely and honestly good, and even-

Pretty.

You’ve never felt pretty before.

His hand, harsh as it was days prior, gently swipes the tears gathering in your eyes, then pats your head.

(And he starts wondering if maybe having an older child wouldn’t be so bad.)

And maybe when Wukong is talking to Azure and Yellowtusk about some new invention they’re brainstorming to improve the lives of mortals, some form of metal that always twists to point north, keeping them from losing their way in untamed wildernesses and winding paths. The science of it goes over his head, but he nods along anyways- anything for his Brotherhood.

And you come along to tell him something maybe that trends to “unimportant”, given that you just tug his sleeve with a mild expression, content to wait- and Wukong, really without thinking, scoops you up and sits you on his hip, motioning out a little bounce here and there.

It should be embarrassing (and it is, a little), but… he’s warm, you’re waiting for his attention anyways, and it’s not like either of the demons he’s speaking to mind, so… you just don’t argue.

But even when they leave he doesn’t put you down, and instead cradles you again, like he did the first night you both met, like a father holds his newborn baby, one arm supporting your back and legs, the other your neck. He asks what you need, and smiles when you tell him.

And even when he goes off to do whatever it is that you needed, well… Sun Wukong still does not put you down.

But maybe he just wasn’t thinking on it.

(If you were a frog, the water would be nearing a boil.)

And then there are parental threats, little idle “warnings” that they don’t seem intent on following through with.

Threats that your mouth with be scrubbed with soap, or that you’ll be sent to the corner, or taken over a knee, or some other generic punishment that a parent wouldn’t think twice about administering… but surely they aren’t being serious.

Surely.

After all, those are things parents do to their children, and you are not their child.

So you accept it as “teasing”.

The suggestions that the kings might see fit to correct your behavior slowly become reality- mostly in the form of lectures or lightly tugged ears. They do not remove privileges, given that you take and do so little- would they take your food or bedding, and make you fear a return to your squalid lifestyle?

Instead they just… talk. Talk about how you’ve disappointed them, how they’re sad, upset. How you’ve “let them down”, but there’s still second chances because they know you can “do better”.

You’re teasing MK, something harmless but just sharp enough to make him pout and snap back at you. The kings are in the room, half-paying attention, but you can feel their presence like a storm cloud hanging over your head.

Wukong’s tail lashes once, twice, and then he’s there, tugging lightly at your ear.

“Hey,” he says, his voice mock-stern but with an edge that makes you freeze. “Be nice. That’s your brother.”

Before you can be scared, Wukong lets go, ruffling your hair like he’s brushing away the moment itself, and you’re left standing there, your heart racing for reasons you don’t fully understand.

And you finally can’t find a way to justify it- because they have finally dropped the act and stopped pretending that you aren’t family.

You can’t leave, because they’ve decided you belong here.

Not because they owe you. Not because of MK.

Because you’re theirs.