scorchingbridges

[scorchingbridges]

He had expected the demon to pull the hooks from his flesh. He supposed that it would have been difficult to pry the metal from his pipa bone. However, surprise filtered in through the pain. Was he pulling it? The sound of the rock cracking filled the cavern, making the king blink. For a brief moment, he wondered if the demon would send the rock crumbling down onto them. Sure, he would be fine. Couldn’t say the same for this simian, though.

Yet, the fact that they were making progress was a surprise.

His ears flicked from the yell erupting from them, amusing sinking deep into his core. His head shifted so he could watch them. His eyes caught on a flicker that darted over that form, and he could taste the sizzle of magic on his tongue. The solid thunk of the rock still attached to the chain made his tail curl. Well, would you look at that. Lucky him. His freedom was right in his grasp, all with the help of this simian. The king lowered his head again, staring at the rock beneath him. One the other hook would be dealt with, he wouldn’t have to deal with his shoulders being on fire.

All he needed next was one arm free. The king would tear those damned chains off him. His blood dripped down his back and traveled further down before falling to the floor. He exhaled, shuddering at the lack of pressure over one shoulder.

Once that dammed other chain was snapped he groaned in relief. He slumped into his chains, eyes drifting shut. The hooks were still embedded in him, but at least they were not pulling at his flesh.

“Good job...” he rumbled, the words a rasp. “All you gotta...do next...is free one of...my arms.”

His hands flexed, opening and closing. Freedom. It was so close he could taste it.

He was going to burn so much shit down, primarily Heaven. Oh, how he was gonna love killing those fuckers. But what should he do before then? Hm, he was hungry. Maybe a few villagers, those would be easy to get. It would help to release his very pent up rage.

What of the kid?

Ah, right. The monkey demon. Hmm, maybe he could wait on the murder and get some answers. Surely they deserved a reward for freeing their king. Was he still that? Had they replaced him? Oh, he hoped they were okay. He should ask about it.

MK turns his phone light to the hooks embedded in the mountain as the person before him speaks of them. It's a quiet, raspy sound that just has MK's heart aching with sympathy as the poor soul before him musters the strength to speak.

How long has he been down here?

That's a later question. Right now, MK needs to get this guy out, because this looks absolutely horrible to go through. He grabs one of the hooks and begins to tug at it, putting down the noodles so he can hold his phone with his tail and use both arms.

He doubts he'll get anywhere with that, though. The metal is thick and heavy, and embedded in a mountain for crying out l-

*crrrrrack.*

MK adjusts the light to see his efforts have begun to crack the rock around the hooks embedded in the rocks before him. With a huff of determination, he begins to pull harder on the metal chains.

"Come on, I can do this!" MK shouts to motivate himself, putting one of his feet against the rock to put more strength into each pull on the chain. The fracture in the rock grows larger with each of his efforts, making a horrendous rumbling sound.

MK's body flickers with golden light, activating a kind of strength in him he never knew he had, before finally the first hook pulls loose from the mountain, with a sizable chunk of rock still attached, but at least it was free from the wall.

"Alright, one down, hang in there buddy," MK declares, moving to the next hook and starting over again.

[scorchingbridges]

Why he even entertained a conversation with the traitor was something he tried not to think too hard on. Loneliness did not get to him. He didn't need anyone, least of all the bastard that started this mess. That whispered in that damn old fool's ears, telling him and all of his celestial dogs of the upcoming siege. Oh, how he hated the other. How he wanted to strain forward and tear out ebony fur. To dig his claws in and rip into the muscle. A lot of things filled his mind, every single one of them a little pocket of what he would do to Macaque once he was free. Watching him speak disgusted him. Watching the coward find himself unable to meet the king's eyes made him want to rid the ebony simian of his sight. All of it.

It's the least he deserved.

However, burning gold followed the other's gaze. He stared down at the staff, tail lashing behind him as he hung from those damned chains. The hooks dug deep into his shoulders, making his teeth grit. But he refused—refused to allow his pain to reveal itself to the turncoat. He found his head tilting, tangled mane slipping over his shoulder as he eyed the staff. Was the other going to try and kill him? A pathetic thing like that? Yet, he supposed that true death could free him of this hell. If somehow Macaque HAD found a way to do it.

Yet, he knew Heaven would not be finished. His time in the Diyu would be horrendous. They would make sure of that.

The other's words were like sap in his ears, muddled and low. He could just barely catch snippets. From what he could piece together, this was an attempt to kill him. Although, he would've thought Macaque would be more quick about it. Honestly, who needed to take this long to kill someone? That look though...it gave him pause, eyes darting from the staff to the other simian's face. His brows furrow on instinct, an old ache blossoming in his chest.

'You're still my friend.'

Sun Wukong did not have time to respond. He didn't have time to even really feel anything about those words. The staff hit the ground, and he could see the rush of power that burst from it. It rippled like water over the ground, rushing across the stones and towards him. Gold filled his vision, gold, gold, gold. The chains creaked once, twice, before SHATTERING. The hooks ripped from his back and the king dropped to the ground. His claws dug into the stone, the manacles remaining around his wrists and ankles. Shakily, he lifted his head, ignoring the blood dripping down from where the hooks had been in him.

Red eyes stared at the Six-eared Macaque and the king charged.

The manacles glowed a bright gold that was almost blinding. Wukong hit the ground HARD, making a large crater it seemed like they had literally dragged the king down. He thrashed, a screech of fury ripping from his ruined throat. Yet he just made the crater deeper, and the simian seemed stuck in place. The shrieks became edged with something else other than rage. It felt like his nerves were set ablaze and it was horrible. He couldn't even lift his hands to claw at the source. No, he was trapped by the damn magic of the things shoving him further into the earth.

@scorchingbridges said: "i thought you left. "

Ha. He thought so too.

And he did. After that last fateful encounter with the Monkey King, there was no way in Hell that the shadow monkey would step anywhere near this mountain. Decades came and went. But the guilt... that never left.

" Wukong, I... " He stops himself, meeting the other monkey's burning eyes. This was a bad idea. He immediately thinks that he should just leave again. Before this gets ugly... He knows the other cannot do anything to him in this state. Still, it didn't cease the fear creeping along Macaque's spine. His fur bristles, appropriately unsettled, and he soon breaks eye contact - moving to look down at what was settled nervously in his hands. A golden staff, intricate in design. Stolen from a monk by chance, rumors spoke of it's potential to shatter even the strongest of mountains. Macaque swallows thickly, and takes in an uneven breath.

" ...Look, I'm just here to do one thing. One thing, and then you never have to look at me again. " He steps a little closer, gripping the staff a little tighter. He honestly has no idea if this is gonna work. If it doesn't, he'll surely be hunted down by the celestial warriors for interfering with such matters. And if it does... the mystic grimaced, recalling their last encounter once more.

Anything was better than the guilt. He can't keep living with himself like this. And he'd come this far, there was no point in turning back now.

" I know you hate me, and there's nothing I can do to make it right, but.. " He takes in another breath, raising the holy staff above his head, shooting another glance at the Monkey King. His eyes linger there, before closing tightly. " You're.. still my friend. I have to try this. "

And so, the staff slams against the ground.

[scorchingbridges]

“Good, let them perish. Less people in my way.” He rested his hands behind his head, yawning wide, large yaoguai fangs glinting in the sun. For the moment he could wait on breaking the manacles. The sun felt nice in this tree.

...hmph. She wasn’t wrong, he could feel his fur pulling in places. He hadn’t been trying to give them attention but thanks to her, he could feel them all the better. His eyebrow twitched. Of course, she wasn’t going to let this go. He could tell that right now. It made the prickle of annoyance grow, bringing on old thoughts. Ones he had been trying to smother because he didn’t want to be introduced to the ground again. He plucked a twig from the branch above where he rested, putting it in his mouth.

The king chewed at the end as the rest poked between his lips. It was a good distraction, the bitter taste helping combat the murderous urges bubbling. Not a permanent solution but still—

It was something.

“Approachable, huh?” he mumbled around the twig, eyes darting over to look at her. His lips curled into a sharp smile, not once releasing his new chew toy. “Tell me, bunny...”

He turned to fully look at her, tail swaying like an agitated snake.

“Does this face look approachable?”

   @scorchingbridges​​​​  /  cont. !

   ❝ your smell alone could take down several armies. ❞  Rabbit-faced goddess states, her nose wiggling in irritation at the simian’s scent. 

         He had done a great wrong, of course, in his attempt to overthrow the Jade Emperor.  The fact that the several-times immortal has survived this far into his punishment is impressive, but not at all surprising.  Wukong’s state of mind, however… 

         Chang’e remembers when he had hit the ground, as if his cuffs had suddenly gained the weight of several mountains  –  as well as the crater it left behind.  The once great and powerful Monkey King had fallen into a fit of hysterics ; about what, the rabbit doesn’t know, but it must certainly be a rather malicious train of thought to get his shackles to react in such a way. 

   ❝ besides, ❞  She continues on, turning her attention to the once-golden simian.  ❝ all that matting can’t be comfortable. it would also help you look more.. approachable, so to speak. if we plan to do good deeds, it doesn’t hurt to look presentable. ❞

[scorchingbridges]

Colors flashed behind his eyelids—when he closed his eyes? He hunched forward, claws digging into his palms as he curled his hands into tight fists. But the pain didn't chase away the other pain, it blended together in a sick orchestra. Through the fire in his muscle, he can sense someone before him. His jaw clamped shut, body shuddering with the urge to scream. Now that there was someone here, he couldn't let them hear it. He could hold onto this little bit of himself.

The words were light struggling to penetrate the fog in his mind. Some slipped through, but one stuck. Help. He didn't dare get his hopes up, it could've been anything attached to that word. But it hurt.

It hurt so much.

Slowly the king lifted his head, and strands of his mane hung in front of his face. It was matted and filthy and reached past his back. Tattered remains of a glorious gold and red armor dangled from him, the colors faded over time. Wary golden irises stared ahead, surrounded by a sea of red. It took a moment for him to properly see what was in front of him. It was a mess of browns, reds, and yellows. He blinked, shaking his head with a small wheeze. Slowly, the blob shifted, and he stared. Had he managed to pass and this was his hell?

Who in the fuck was this monkey demon? Maybe a descendant of one of his people? But how did they find him? The clothes were not the only strange thing about this...cub? No, older. Maybe. His eyes were still struggling and his head was fighting against the pain pulling at the edges. He shuddered again, head dropping back down. Well, if this was not a trick...then...

"...the hooks," he croaked. "Remove the hooks."

MK feels his panic rising as the sound of metal thrashing deeper in the cave makes his concern for whoever might be stuck down here grows. He could hear a shriek of agony that only has him moving faster toward where he can hear the noise.

"Don't worry, help is on the way!" MK cries into the cave, taking the bag carrying the noodles with his tail and dashing on all fours toward the source of the sounds.

Finally, he finds the source. And he might just lose what he had for lunch himself at the sight of a figure in the dark strung up in thick, metal chains and writhing in agony. NO ONE deserves this. He doesn't know what this guy is chained to the wall for, but it doesn't matter. This is unjust punishment no matter what way you slice it.

Managing to swallow down his lunch, MK puts the bag of noodles on the ground to assess the situation further.

"Alright, okay.... I'm here to help. Heavens, I'm going to have to call the hospital when I've got service on my phone again..." he mutters, adjusting his phone light to see the other person a bit better.

It might be the panic clouding his mind, but he could almost swear this other person is... a monkey demon, like MK is. But, it can't be right, can it?

Isn't he the last one?

[scorchingbridges]

— look out for number one. ‘cause if you don’t, no one will… ❜

[scorchingbridges]

A voice. It startled him, making him flinch and almost slip from the bar. His wrists press harder against it, old panic slipping into him. His strength was too much, and the bar’s chains too flimsy. The gods were surely laughing at him, knowing that he stood no chance. The bar groaned under his strength. He had no time to pull away, to save it. In a matter of mere seconds, it snapped. The king fell, and the hooks tore further into him. A shriek ripped from his throat without his permission, wetness dripped down his back and into his dirty fur. His muscles screamed and twitched. The bar clanged as it hit the ground, sound distant to his agony.

The king’s chest heaved, fingers trying to grab at the source of his pain. But he couldn’t reach the hooks, he couldn’t bring them down enough. Poor fool, he thrashed like a fish caught on a line. How familiar, trapped on those hooks burrowing into his flesh.

He didn’t have the air to scream. His torment was silent now.

A pathetic, useless mess he was.

How far he had fallen. Yes, indeed Heaven was laughing at him.

"...fuck."

MK's ears flick at the sound of someone else's voice down here. It was quiet and wheezy, but he could still pick out the sound echoing across the cavern he'd found himself in. If he strains his ears, he can also hear the sound of metal clanking.

"Hey... is there anyone else down here?" he calls out to the cave, hearing his voice echo back across the walls.

He's curious now, and a bit concerned. As far as he knew before now, there wasn't any way to get under the mountain. If someone was down here, they might be trapped. He can't just let that go, they might die down here if no one is looking for them!

They might be hungry too, so taking his phone and a bowl of noodles out of the wreck of his Tuk Tuk, he sets the device to flashlight mode and heads to where he could hear the sound of metal rattling.

"Sorry, valued customer, you won't be getting your noodles," He mutters under his breath as he walks forward to find the source of the noise he's been hearing.

[scorchingbridges]

"... you had to mention the flying?" Rabbit questions as her hands rub at tired eyes, form sitting on her cloud with a drained hunch. Rather unladylike for the Rabbit-Faced Princess, but she does not care for her manners at the moment.

A simple inquiry to the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Guanyin, for aid in how to lift the curse between the rabbit goddess and the mountain-freed simian. One was investigating out of concern for her common-folk followers, and the other would rather be anywhere but in her company. Chang'e had been made aware of the power of his manacles, in the scenario that she found Wukong's behavior worthy of an incredibly agonizing punishment -- she will be using no punishment of the sort, but the other didn't need to know of the princess's intentions. Still, the deal could've been much worse. A journey to a ritual site, where they do good deeds along the way, and help those that may also be in similar situations. But first...

"Well.. before we set off, you need to take a bath."

"Not my fault she decided that a simple question needed to have a new rule." A low scoff left the king, claws scraping against the metal wrapped around his ankle. They made not a single dent, which only annoyed the simian further. At this point, he might try a rock. Not that he wanted to, if he couldn't rip it off how could a fucking rock do that? It was incredibly frustrating, and the king wasn't exactly well-known for his patience. This journey? Was certainly on that patient thing. He wanted to snarl and wanted to pitch another fit.

He sat atop a tree, resting lazily in its branches. His tail lashed underneath him, brushing against the bark with each violent twitch. Oh, how Sun Wukong was still upset with the information given for these damn manacles. The mere idea of being forced to serve anyone, least of all a celestial, set his fury ablaze. Knowing that if he disobeyed, the king could be granted a punishment. He had no idea of the full scope of what it could be. But...he did have an idea. He recalled the time he had considered killing her.

Yeah, that wasn't a good experience. It was like the damn things knew. She didn't even have to do anything, the manacles easily took him to the dirt all on on their own.

A bath? His tail twitched again, this time more violently. His long mane hung over his shoulder, matted and dark. A far cry from the brilliant golden brown it used to be.

"Hmmph. What, my smell assaulting your delicate nostrils?"

[scorchingbridges]

The same sounds greeted him when he awoke. He'd been sleeping more often, perhaps just so he could make some attempt to escape this hell. Even if it were hiding away like that. His head lowered, exhaling softly as the chains creaked. The metal imbedded in his shoulders twisted even as he tried not to move. He could feel them grind into his muscle, sinking deeper from his weight alone. Now, he could sit and wallow in his misery. Or he could go back to sleep.

Before he could actually fall asleep, a new sound burst across the cavern. It was a loud crash that startled him, sending new waves of agony under his muscle and bone. His teeth ground against each other, a scream bubbling inside his ruined throat. The sound scratches against the walls, springing the taste of iron. But the kings smothered it down, refusing to let it free. The scream did not leave, but a low hiss did. It rumbled through him, echoing off the walls of his prison.

"...fuck," he croaked after a moment. That certainly sucked.

The king's chest heaved with quiet breaths. Carefully, he lifted his arms. Just high enough so he could press his wrists against the bar hanging before him. It rocked and creaked as he pulled himself up. Taking his weight off the hooks felt so much better. Especially now. The strain of the chains attatched to his ankles reminded him of the limit he could go up. The warning groan of the bar told him this was temporary, and he had to be mindful.

But in this moment, he allowed himself this small reprieve. As he held himself up, he pondered over the new sound. Could it just be a piece of his prison crumbling?

He couldn't help but groan as the pain eased, head lowering to press against the uneaven surface of the bar.

Plotted Starter for @scorchingbridges

[Celestial Primate MK AU]

______________________________________

It's another relatively normal day in Megapolis. Wake up, take a shower, comb out all of the fluffy monkey fur that gets tangled in his sheets every night, get his uniform on and then go deliver noodles for his dad's noodle shop on the floor below.

MK had been doing the same routine ever since he got his own apartment. The young monkey demon had practically been raised there as the last of his kind. Though monkey demons were once only found on Flower Fruit Mountain under the leadership of their King, The Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the celestial armies had since made the Monkey King disappear and his home burned to ash.

Tang had said himself it was a miracle any were left, let alone poor MK, who appeared on the mainland one day as a young child, covered in mud and gunk with no known family a good thousand years since the mountain was burned down.

It makes MK wonder if his real family is out there somewhere, hiding away from the eyes of heaven. But, he doesn't feel right leaving the good life he has here. Perhaps one day he'll know the truth...

Right, noodles. He's got a job to do.

MK slides some over-ear headphones onto his head and pulls up the techno-mix he likes to listen to while he's driving his Tuk Tuk around the city. His tail sways diligently to the beat while he drives around The Five Finger Mountain located in the centre of the city.

Or at least, that was his intention. He got a bit too distracted jamming out to the sound of his headphones to the point he was dancing in place while driving, causing his Tuk Tuk to take a much sharper turn, careening him into the mountain. And not just splattering against the side of it, no, he somehow has enough force to go through the mountain itself before his poor Tuk Tuk goes into a cave inside the mountain and over a cliff.

MK screams as his poor vehicle gets smashed on the ground on impact. Thankfully, MK is somehow highly tolerant to pain and comes out unscathed. Man, some days he thinks he's invincible.

The noodles are still okay too, which is a good thing. But, now he's kinda stuck down here.

"Man... Pigsy is gonna kill me...."

[scorchingbridges]

"....this...is disgusting..." So this is what he'd been hearing the last two days he'd been in this strange world, a theft of identity and so forth. Imposters all around him and then one truth. Hanging suspended is eternal torture for only select eyes to see. No doubt there was no prying eyes now, to gaze at him In his wretched unglamored state before the defiled king. "Unforgivable...this is what they did..."

He shifted, the hooks grinding through his muscle. The king exhaled, throat aching just from the motion. His brows draw downwards, matching the grimace that pulled at his face. Weak. Disgraced. Betrayed. Ruined. There were many titles attached to him, all of them smothering the moniker he was once known as. Something he had been proud to bear. The curl of his lips became sharp. How stupid he was for not seeing the warning signs. He should've kept a closer eye on his general. His friend. If he had, they would've won. If he had been harsher when trying to make Liu Er listen his brothers would be changing the world.

And Sun Wukong would not be locked away, the key thrown aside once they had their fill of mocking. He could still feel their eyes, those hands that gripped at his long mane and yanked.

So it was a surprise that he gained a visitor. As they entered, the king expected to hear that all-too-familiar tone. To hear the gloating and the pleased tone that strangled him. A beast chained and displayed for those who wished to come and gawk. Yet, the words he was gifted with were not venom. They were nothing like what he had known. It would've made him suspicious, except...the voice. It tugged at an aching part of his mind that had been silent for too long.

Sun Wukong slowly lifted his head, golden irises swimming in red sclera. Locks of his mane fell into his face, dirtied and matted. His gaze was not entirely there, this stranger the only thing keeping him from slipping back under. Something. Someone. He blinked, the motion slow before he tilted his head. His tongue darted over cracked lips, before he spoke.

"Such odd words to utter for this old monkey," his voice came from him like the harsh grind of stone against stone. It cracked like the little pebbles that rolled from moving boulders. The taste of iron greeted the king, sating his parched throat only slightly. Yet, the king continued to speak, even as beads of red splattered over his lips.

"Tell me, stranger who wears the ears of my turncoat, what brings you to this damp cave? Have you come to gawk at the sorry sight of a tarnished king?"

[scorchingbridges]

Drip. Drip. Drip. The steady fall of water was a constant in this prison. It echoed around the system, a symphony that never left throughout the many years spent there. A wind would go through sometimes, filling the space with the sound. Drip. Drip. Drip. There was no wind today.

Nor were there any visitors. Not for a long time.

Chains break the rhythm of the cavern, locks of metal rubbing against one another as something lifted. But never too high, not with the ones bolted to the stone below. A low groan rumbled through, the sound raspy and grating. A figure hung in a location further down, far away from any potential light. Great and heavy chains hung from the form, forcing their arms up above their head.

The position was not pleasant, the prisoner stretched out as if they were trying to reach for the ceiling of the cave. In a way, they were. Their wrists rested on a metal bar that hung in front of them, and they were using their strength to pull themselves up. The chains wrapped around their legs stopped them from bringing their head above the bar, but it was just enough. Just enough to take the pressure off of the hooks deep in their back. The metal had a total of three hooks out of the four main pieces of metal attached. Two dug into both shoulders, sinking deep into muscle.

Dark crimson dripped from them, sliding down a heaving back and into dirty and matted fur. Time and time again, the prisoner had done this. It never could last long, the bar wasn’t stable enough for that. If they leaned too hard, the chains on it were sure to break. A cruel punishment, that those would be the only weak chains. But they spent their time wisely, only moving when it grew too much. But how much was too much? They didn’t know. But they kept an eye on the bar, always wary of the chains breaking whenever they leaned on it.

Never able to rest. Not in the way they wanted to.

For a time, a long time, their rage kept them going. Raging at the injustice and the cruel torture. But as time passed on; as burning pellets where forced down their throat; as searing liquid poured into pried open jaws...that rage could not be vocalized. Not until now. Now, when they had been freed of those visits. Their throat and tongue had healed almost fully, but it still hurt to speak.

But who would Sun Wukong speak to? The water that flowed down the stalagmites? The winds that occasionally graced him with its presence? Perhaps the rocks that tumbled down, or the bats that slept nearby?

Ha! How ludicrous.

Yet, the longer the wait stretched, the more lonely he became. Until the king spoke to the cave. Nothing much, just occasional comments. Which then became tales. Which then became rants and raves over his condition. Yet, the rage always left him for a bit afterwards. The cycle would continue.

Now? Now he was tired. But he didn’t want to let go of the bar yet, he didn’t want to wake to the searing pain in his shoulder blades. Didn’t want too feel how wet the fur on his back was as it was soaking in his blood. It crept up on him, despite his protests. It pulled at him, making his wrists slip just slightly. A pitiful sound left him, a whimper that rolled from his sore throat.

“Damned Heavens,” he croaked, eye lids drooping. “Damn you. Damn you...”

[scorchingbridges]

mature-themed roleplay/ask blog for au! wukong from lego monkie kid   mun is 20+, uses she/they, and resides in mountain time.   indie, sel, and private.   crossover & multiverse friendly.

MUN || RULES || BIO || UNIVERSE INTRODUCTION

CREDIT

[scorchingbridges]

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