#Because I like LMK and JTTW!!!

[itsabouttimex2]

“You need to do better.”

(This gets vitriolic, and is a full-blown criticism of Macaque’s portrayal in Season Four and Five. If criticism of a character/franchise you like upsets you, I do not recommend reading.)

Wow. I had no faith in his character writing, and I’m STILL disappointed.

And it only took one episode! How impressive!

Macaque, who has put in ZERO on-screen effort to become a better person or make amends to his victims, is criticizing Wukong for being a bad mentor! And does Wukong criticize him back? NOPE!

After getting screamed at and berated, does Wukong defend himself? NOPE!

Ooh, but there was a second long reference in a dual yelling match that mentioned that Macaque was a genuinely bad person who took glee in hurting innocent people! Oh, fucking delightful! Ooh, Wukong even points out in one episode that Macaque goes unpunished!

Pointing out a flaw in your writing does not make it less of a flaw.

Macaque will always be allowed to do whatever he wants to anyone he wants- power theft, attempted murder, insults, deceit, assault-

And the narrative and characters will never hold him accountable or force Macaque to look inwards or become a better person.

Macaque will always fall upwards into redemption without any obstacles or pushback.

There will never be a struggle to goodness with a satisfying conclusion. There will never be a moment where falters in his newfound goodness and questions going back to his old ways. There will never be explicit remorse or regret. He will never have deep introspections on his crimes and atrocities that provide a reason for him to want to change.

The sum of his “arc” will always be “you were a good guy all along”, and that lack of depth is where it will stay.

RIP Seasons 1-3 Macaque. You were fun and interesting and cool and lovable.

But the man they replaced you with was destined to be a boring and brooding “anti-hero” who has no real connection to the actions you selfishly and violently performed with your own two hands-

And you will always be a less interesting character for it.

The execution of the actual arc boils down to a single heroic (but ultimately self-serving) moment and then Macaque is immediately forgiven for all the crimes he’s committed and is a magically better person without any effort and nothing he’s done is ever brought up again.

It severely weakens any character’s arc to cut them off from their past actions. If MK forgot his traumas every season instead of carrying them forward- we’d all agree that doing so was a case of poor writing.

It was the reason that people disliked Mei’s portrayal in Season Four- she immediately moved on from the Samadhi Fire arc and “no longer wielded it” after spending a whole season gathering and learning to use it.

Why can’t we agree that it’s bad for Macaque, too?

You can’t “develop” a character by dropping an entire plotline and writing it off with one line.

You can’t “redeem” a character by pretending that they were a good person right from the start.

Sorry, bud.

I really did like you. I just wish I could like your writing.

——————

And, what is more clear to me now than ever?

People only defended Macaque’s shitty writing because they think he’s hot.

I know this now, because I’ve seen white-hot Li Jing arc hatred from fervent Macaque arc defenders.

So we all agree that an “I didn’t really mean it!” isn’t an excuse to abuse the people around you? That you don’t get to mistreat innocent people just because you’re stressed and upset?

Hmmm.

Hmmmmmmm.

I wonder why people despise Jing for his dogshit “one nice thing redeems all your bad actions” arc but love Macaque for his??

(Because they think the monkey is hot.)

The funny thing, though?

Li Jing apologizes to at least one of the victims of his actions. He expresses regret and remorse.

Macaque doesn’t even have that.

——————

Anyways here’s a line that I hate because Macaque has in no way developed enough to have the right to deliver it-

AND NO, SUDDENLY HAVING AN AFFINITY FOR PERFORMING KIND OR SACRIFICIAL ACTS IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

HIM MAGICALLY OFFSCREEN BECOMING A GOOD PERSON WHO CARES ABOUT INNOCENT LIFE IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

IF ALL IT TAKES TO “BE BETTER” IS ACTING LIKE A HERO, WUKONG IS LITERALLY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER OF A PERSON THAN HE IS

THIS LINE IS DOGSHIT

“You need to do better.”

Really, Macaque? Maybe you should take your own damn advice- try apologizing to one of the people you tried to hurt and tried to murder in cold blood!

Like when you trapped MK under his staff after stealing his powers and tried to murder him when he was helpless?

Or when you kidnapped MK’s friends and tortured the kid by forcing him to fight them?

Or you led a violent assault against a palace full of innocent people?

Or violently beat his dear friends until they were screaming in pain?

Or assaulted Tang, who posed no threat to you?

Or threatened to murder an innocent girl if you didn’t get your way, then ran away (and encouraged MK to abandon her) first thing when it put her into a life-threatening meltdown of raw power?

(Isn’t it cool how NONE of these people have interesting or varied reactions to him doing this and ALL immediately are cool with him like a gelatinous hivemind.)

(Oooh ONE mildly questioning line from Pigsy but no anger over his adoptive son nearly being killed multiple times over)

(Isn’t it cool that no one has complex or interesting thoughts on this.)

(Isn’t it cool that by robbing them of unique feelings on the matter they robbed Macaque and the Monkie Kids of compelling and interesting interactions that could’ve helped flesh out their personalities and strengthen their characterization.)

(Isn’t it cool that Macaque and the Monkie Kids are actively denied intriguing character dynamics so Macaque’s shitty “redemption arc” can happen faster.)

(Isn’t that cool.)

Why don’t YOU do better, Macaque?

(In a way that is more satisfying than “one kind-hearted speech from a kid that I tried to murder changed my mind and now I am a better person but all my character development happened offscreen and without personal introspection”, at least.)

Also what the fuck do you mean by “do better”?

Be heroic and put your life in danger? He already does that! He’s done it more than you have!

Just tell MK that he’s not alone? YOU COULD DO THAT YOURSELF, MACAQUE!

Help MK with his traumas and fears? MK doesn’t tell anyone about those! He keeps them bottled up, lock and key, and actively refuses attempts to help!

Wukong TRIED to reach out to him, and MK PUSHED HIM AWAY! Was he supposed to tie the fucking kid down and torture the information out of him?

He respected MK’s boundaries by not pushing any further and letting him leave!!

WHY IS THAT A BAD THING??

What the fuck, man

[puppyeared]

Communication

[passions-and-pupils]

Attention Western LMK fans: This is a public service announcement

when someone says “immortal” in the context of Chinese mythology they do NOT mean “can’t die”. They mean “can live forever”

Think of a mortals lifespan as a candle and an immortals lifespan as an infinitely long candle. The immortal candle can burn forever but it someone blows it out it still goes out. Now some immortal candles are inside a building so they don’t get hit by wind or rain and others are on a patio protected only from rain. It’s different depending on how powerful they are and how many immortalities are stacked

Sun Wukong is an infinitely long trick birthday candle that can blow out in theory but no one’s been strong enough to test that theory

hope this helps clear things up

[steamedlotusroot]

as a native chinese, i feel like some of yall are taking the gods in lego monkie kid a bit too seriously. i understand why it feels iffy to ship / make silly content of deities that people worship irl (eg. nezha, sun wukong) but it’s a phenomenon on chinese social media too. c-netizens ship the fictionalized versions of these gods, which the gods of lego monkie kid are. they aren’t the actual gods people worship; they’re slightly tweaked versions of the book characters, just like any other chinese adaptation or retelling of jttw (and such stories like fsyy) also, no, nezha isn’t a child, in lmk or jttw or sometimes irl. just because he’s often depicted in child form doesn’t make him an immortal child. eros / cupid is often depicted as a winged baby, and he has a wife and kids. it’s basically the same thing here. nothing in lmk suggests that nezha is a child (his voice, his appearance, his personality etc. all imply he is an adult), and while he’s described as youthful in jttw, he’s already 1700+ years old by then and gods can shapeshift. people only think he’s an immortal baby because that’s a popular depiction of him, since one of his prominent myths is set during his childhood. but as long as you’re talking about the god nezha (fictionalized or the religious figure) and not the human child nezha, then that’s an adult [edit: the last sentence couldve been worded better. i would summarize it as “immortal youth nezha is a valid depiction and is popularized by mythology, but adult god nezha exists too and they are NOT mutually exclusive”]

[hcdragonwrites]

Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

Ok! I ran this by Semi before I posted just because I know absolutely nothing about LMK (except the animation can be so pretty!) just so I could get their characters down. I hope you all like it !

She just wanted to escape- both from this place and from her own mind tonight.

The ghosts of memories were walking and she had no distractions to chase them away.

Peaches walked the cool cavern halls of Water- Curtain Cave, her feet echoing in the depths. The sandals she wore and the ornamental clothing she had been thrown into made her scalp prickle and her skin itch. It was too much- but the attendants wouldn’t hear a thing about it.

She had to look the part of Queen.

Peaches, in the absence of the Lord of the mountain and his right hand and sword, was the remaining voice of authority.

To a point.

Finishing with courtly duties and listening in on behalf of her husbands wasn't a huge chore. The two of them rarely left at the same time however. If one was called away the other would remain. Or Peaches herself would be brought along.

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

She had just this night- just this moment of reprieve and she would make the most of it. Or so she thought. Instead, she was fighting something that reared its head and struck her nerves like a asp.

However she wasn’t alone quite yet. As she rounded the corner and came to golden lacquered doors of her bedchamber - their bedchamber- she paused.

“Will that be all my queen?” One of the attending retinue of her guard asked. It was a guard her husbands insisted upon whenever both were away from home- a set of seven of the most battle scarred simians Peaches had ever seen.

They were tasked and sworn with following her everywhere - to the dining hall, to the throne room. If she wished to go and sit among the apple trees and listen to the wind play over the mountain grasses her guard would double in size. Peaches tried to not cause the denizens of Flower fruit mountain any more problems or stressors by going outside when both the King and his Brother in arms were away on a war path.

Her husbands.

It’s what they titled themselves now, after a decade of the terrible start they had on their relationship with her. When she had met the two, they had been just tiny monkeys. A sly looking ginger and gold monkey who had loved to cling to her arms and a dark black furred monkey that brought her fruits and almonds from the wild.

My sweet boys.

They had been her monkeys back then- the little prankster angels she had thought were just simple beasts, trying to survive out in the world.

She had been wrong.

The decision to upend her life, she guessed, had been floated around for months between the two disguised demons as they ate her fruit and enjoyed her touches. It was a mutual one that both had decided was the best option for her.

She took a steadying breath, coming back to the present. Peaches wanted a chance to be alone. Something so rare she craved it like a man in a desert craved water.

“Yes, general. I think I’ll retire early for the day.” She smiled at the monkey who dipped his body into a bow. The gleam of his armor set the flickers of a memory brewing. Fire in the trees, the smell of iron on the wind and a figure among the debris. She shook her head to dislodge it. The rest of them weren’t awful to her. Her husbands weren’t awful to her. They had just ….

Taken away her decisions.

“Very well Queen.” Peaches flinched, unable to quite stomach the title and what that truly meant. If I am queen then why am I without choices? “If you need us call us.”

She turned the handle in the door and slipped in side with as much grace as she could muster.

Peaches closed the ornamental doors to the bedroom, resting her head against the door. Steady. Deep breaths. In through her nose out through her mouth.

The illusion of a paradise that Wukong had built and Macaque helped facilitate always lost its color and believability when they were away. They couldn’t feed her the sugared lies and candied perceptions to tamp back the memories of that night.

It had been just another night on the small farm - a June night of heat and singing cicadas- of windows wide open and Peaches trying to escape that heat. There wasn’t much she could do to escape it. The moisture clung to her and made her bedding stick and clog her nose. So on these nights she stayed up, usually with a candle or the moon to illuminate her night, and read.

The knock on the door was not something typical.

The memory was rising and she couldn’t hold it back. I have to ride it out. Survive it.

Like she had survived that night. Getting visitors in the dead of the night had been unconventional- and she remembered the feeling of being perturbed. Don’t answer it, she told the memory. But this was the past and ghosts of the past didn’t change their course.

She had closed her book, had stepped down the hall to the door and had opened it.

I should have called through- told him to stay away! I should have never left my bed or my book.

It was a drunk man. A fellow farm hand called in for one of the families to help bring in a harvest that had proved too bountiful for the immediate family to handle. Peaches could see the man before her eyes, smell the reek of him.

A drunk.

“Well ain’t it the village spinster! Whaaa da pretty thing you are!” He was a cloud of bitter rice wine, of too much sake on his breath. The intensity of it had a physical effect on her memory and in the present, Peaches wrinkled her nose.

“You should go home Sir.” She had told him- tried to close the door.

His foot moved faster and his hands had caught the door.

A wild set of emotions swept through her. She had to sit her body down, thankful she had been able to get away from the other monkeys before the memory seized her like a vice. They would have been in a panic over her and she couldn’t let their little hearts worry so. There was nothing they could do to stop the remembering.

It was his fault this all happened. It was His. He didn’t have to be drunk and show up at my home- he didn’t have to shove his way into my house and try and grab me.

But he was just a single man. Did his actions warrant the destruction that happened next ?

“Get out!” Her memory self cried. The wooden table she danced behind as the drunk stumbled and moved towards her, was her only shield.

“The Boys Said you prefer the company of wild animals …” his speech was hard to hear. The wine had made him bold, stupid, and aroused it seemed. “I thought I would give you mtaste of what a real man was, since the villagers are al’ ‘fraid of your Witchery with monkeys.”

She had run- she had thrown her things at him. It was probably the commotion of her breaking a pitcher over his head that had alerted her monkeys. The loud clatter of the pottery across the floor had sounded so sharp and final. It had only made the man more determined.

The drunk when he did get his hands on her was furious. He swung a fist and sent stars into her eyes. Peaches had clung like a wildcat to her conscious, kicking out with legs and swinging with fists. Her nose was full of the sour smell of him- had felt his hands and fought them. A kick to his groin had sent him wheezing. Another fist to her head had Peaches crying. She had stared that drunk in his mean little eyes as he whispered the terrible things he wanted to do to her.

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

He never got to touch more than her arms that night.

Peaches heard something step through the door that had been left open to the night. She had heard the creak of her house as something walked within it. And the sound of something- like a water skin being popped and a splash of warm liquid against her belly had shocked her.

The Drunks eyes went wide with confusion, rolling horselike in his head. His bruising grip on her wrist had let go. In the present, She rubbed those wrists, the phantom pains hard.

“..mah… belly.” The drunk had mumbled then belched a bucket of blood onto the floor. Peaches could see something protruding from his middle- something long and thin like a stick. Or a staff.

Clawed hands pulled the head back and twisted with a fury. The sound of bones breaking was loud, as if a fire was consuming dry wood. The drunk crumbled in those hands like a puppet cut free of its strings.

A new stranger stood in her home, his frame large and broad and most assuredly not human. He tossed the body like someone would toss a rag across the floor. The glowing eyes in the sudden dark were all she could see. Her mind, even in its heightened adrenaline drenched state, recognized the face pattern, saw a familiarity in the fur. There was, in fact, still a little flower tucked against this demonic creatures ear. The same flower she had interwoven in her forest friend's fur that afternoon.

“Your… your my…”

Nerves and the come down from the adrenaline high we’re making speech hard. The monkey demon before her, who’s eyes seemed to spit fire, softened. Just a bit.

“You are my Peaches.” Wukong said, touching her hair, her face, her hands. Taking stock. Then he had taken those limp hands and threaded them through his fur, trying to get them to grip. It would help his own rage and calm her fear. It was thick in the air, ruining the natural sweet smell she had. That and the slab of flesh on the floors own fetid death scent.

Wukong was not the best at this - this comfort thing. But he would rise to the occasion. He would try for her.

Fury and rage made his tail lash and the fur along his neck to stand on end.

At first she had just been a simple human that would leave little offerings to him and his brother in arms. An oddity here in the shadow of his mountain. Most humans around here feared the monkeys and kept away from all of them, having a legend that if one was harmed a great calamity would befall them.

Wukong didn’t mind being that calamity. These were his people, his subjects. So hearing the chatter from some of his kind that a women had begun to leave out gifts had of course spiked the Kings curiosity. The humans beneath Flower Fruit Mountain were his lesser subjects. So he had come down from the mountain, disguising himself as a smaller and more approachable sized monkey, to see the fuss his subjects had started gossiping about at groomings. Only to see his brother, Macaque, already being petted and tended and kissed on each of his six ears.

Of course first impressions had been terrible and Wukong, used to getting the first pick of everything, had come screeching into the clearing and demanding his own pets. It had set off a very small and very mock little battle between the two brothers in arms. One that had Peaches separating them and scolding them as she patched up the little scratches they had taken from eachother. They could have each resisted her pull but both decided that play acting a fight, even if it had started as a bit of one, was the best way to get attention divided between the both of them.

Wukong hadn’t expected to become infatuated. Her name didn’t matter to him- he had rebranded her almost the instant she came to him and offered a smile and held out a handful of sugar and dates. Peaches. After the Kings own favorite fruit, the sweetest thing the mountain produced.

His Peaches.

Of course also Macaques. He shared everything with his brother, the dark furred and six eared demon who had faced battles and won wars besides Wukong. While Wukong had been more leery, Peaches won him over faster than Flower Wine loosened his rigid posture. They had both fallen for this mortal women. And, in the traditional way she belonged to them. She just didn’t know it yet. They had touched and groomed and cuddled and tangled limbs and tails. They were practically married without the marriage bit.

Wukong rubbed small circles into Peaches back, trying to keep himself from bearing his teeth in rage.

I should have taken her home the moment she kissed me.

They had been kisses of the kind one gives to a friend or pet. It had left the warlord craving more burning with more.

Of wanting to feel her give him more than just a chaste kiss on the side of his face.

She wouldn’t have been hurt if he had just taken her home.

Wukong and Macaque had taken to one or both spending the night in Peaches trees, to keep an eye on her. Wukongs obsession had grown into a fascination and warm buttery love. A love that was becoming a wild inferno as he fought to stay still and not leap upon the corpse he had made and turn it into nothing but bits of flesh and gore the crows could carry away.

His Peaches fingers finally grasped his fur and shook. It brought Wukong back from his montage of rage to the present. If only Mac was here — but he wasn’t. He was back at home on Flower Fruit mountain , giving his brother the night to enjoy and keep lookout at Peaches den.

“That’s my girl.” The demon tried to soothe. He really wished he could set Peaches down and finish off what he had started. This place had been bad. This village terrible. He hated every thing and one here that had dared to let a drunken fool up to his Peaches doorstep and allowed this to happen. In reality Wukong was mad it had been Mac’s own sense of importance on taking it slow and letting a little thing like a life outside of Flower Fruit Mountain stop him from from revealing who he was and taking her home.

I am done trying to woo her over slowly. They could have lost her this night if Wukong hadn’t been in earshot, hadn’t heard the crash of something breaking. His clawed hands wrapped around her back and beneath her legs. Before he could realize it, Wukong had her up and in his arms, already stepping on and across the corpse and out into the June air. Mine.

“Let’s get you home, lovely.” Wukongs voice was thick with emotion. Relief to finally, finally, finally have an excuse to take his wife home, to see her sleep in a real bed and eat real food made his heart swell. No more pretending. No more longing. It was happening now. Simmering beneath that emotion was the sweet bubble, the red misting rage, of violence. Once he got her home, got her safe, got her tangled within some of his and Macaques blankets to where the sour smell of fear would be lost within the scent of them- he could come back. He would come back.

He would destroy the village for being the obstacle it was in his conquest for this mortal girls heart. It was in itself, a relief to know he was justified in its destruction.

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

Peaches was shaking. Clinging to him. I would have her cling to me always. He pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in as he walked off. She smelled so good. He rubbed his face to hers, affectionately smothering her fear scent. Wukong felt a smile curl his face. Finally. We can go home and put the charade to bed. Finally you are mine.

Peaches' memory of that night was mostly of clinging to Wukong as they flew through the air, of his voice a rumble of soft words and comforts. He was holding her close, pressing her in. Smothering her in a sense. But she needed it. She clung to it in a way to stop herself from being sick from fright. It was strange but familiar to hold this fur, to cling. Then she briefly remembered another voice, another set of hands. When she looked up and saw that her sweet dark monkey was also here, had also been a demon in disguise, something broke in her. Maybe hysteria. Maybe disbelief. Or maybe she knew, somewhere in her mind, that no matter what she said now wouldn’t save the people- the innocents- in her village.

Peaches had been transferred into the dark arms and THATS where she finally began to cry. The shock was fading and leaving behind ragged holes of emotion.

“Safe, you're safe now.” She was reassured. Hands had lifted her chin, her sweet little monkey- now a demonic one- was gently beginning to sponge away the blood from the cuts on her face. Her cheek swelled, her eye with it.

“Please don’t kill them.” She begged. “He already took care of the one who hurt me don’t kill my village.”

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

Silence. Something cold pressed to her face- a bit of snow from far up the mountain wrapped in cloth. Macaques ears twitched like flower petals in the night air.

“It’s already done. The village is already gone.”

The memory rode itself out in the present and faded slowly.

Guilt washed over her and she cried all for a new reason. She had been the catalyst for Sun Wukongs fury. She had been the decider to his want of destruction. Peaches may not have killed them, may have had a decade to realize that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but Wukong had done it in her name. He had erased that village and all its people like a cartographer reshapes a map. To all the rest of the world, their had never been a village in the shadow of Flower fruit mountain. Not a foundation, not a brick, not even a spare hair, was left of humanity there. Instead it had been cleared as if a fire had swept through. Peaches had seen it on one occasion when Wukong had been persuaded to show her. She had needed closure. Needed the peace.

Once she had healed she had been told her village was gone. She had been given a sweet lie- that Wukong had gone back and the villagers related to the drunk had been ransacking her house to see where she kept the money or any spare wine.

When Wukong had shown up demanding they answer to the crime committed in her home, they had attacked. Wukong had enacted a king's justice as was his right. He had told the remaining villagers to leave- to never set foot upon his domain again for the lawlessness that had been enacted upon their neighbor.

It had taken two years for her to be able to relax whenever he came in smelling of fire and iron. It had taken a few years more for her to remember what Macaque had said when he had pressed snow to her face.

They were the same little monkeys they had been before. But now they had less innocence when they pressed into her face for kisses, when they asked to tangle and cuddle limbs. They insisted she stay in the bedchamber and not move to her own separate room.

It had taken getting used to movement beside her as a hand tugged her hair, or a tale twined her waist. Or a leg curled with hers or hands holding her face. Sometimes in the dark Mac would press his head to her back, using her as a pillow. Wukong would yank her in when he thought her too sleepy to remember and whisper all the things he loved about her.

It would have been sweet. It was touching in a way. If not for the way they revealed themselves. If not for that memory and what she knew now had come after.

It had not taken too long after that for her to start realizing that, though Wukong had saved her, neither of them had any regret of what happened. Neither of them was going to let her go.

When she asked about it or started talking of missing her home- the simple living, the ability to really on herself and choose for herself- Wukong would laugh and launch into one of his tales. He would brush her hair with his claws, run his face against hers and try and deflect her attention to new things.

Macaque, if Wukong was absent, would let her talk. Usually it happened when he asked her to brush his fur or he in turn asked to brush her hair. Peaches thought, just a bit, that the reason Mac was better at listening was for all the ears he had. Each time however, when she got to the part about how this had been her fault, he would stop mid way through a braid or pin and pull her in. Macaque would kiss the tears from her eyes, would press himself close to her chest.

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

“I remember. I remember he went back- you said he—“

“Hush love you’ll grow hysterical. What Wukong did was justified- he defended you.”

“He killed.”

“I have killed.” He kissed her temple, gentle in his reprimands. He wouldn’t try and brush her words beneath a rug like Wukong. Instead he gave her a smile as wide as the crescent moon. “Let’s finish your hair and get you dressed. We can go see the baby’s, I know how you love the baby’s.” Baby monkeys were her weakness. They had been what led to her loving Mac before she had known he was a demonic warlord.

Peaches rubbed at her eyes and stood, the sorrow in her heart heavy still but the tears at least had stopped. Now she was just tired. Tired and cold and wanting to escape the feeling of it all. So she shed her courtly attire. All the clips and jewels and baubles and bits felt heavy. She placed them within the box at her armoire, then loosened her hair from its bindings. Jade pins, pearl necklaces, golden bracelets with bells of silver (Wukong loved this the best of all) all glimmered back in the firelight.

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

On nights like this, she wanted to wear nothing but her smock, her simple clothing, and bury herself as far as she could go into the bed she shared with her husbands.

It was more of a pit set into the ground, circular in nature. Silken pillows, red sheets and a hoard of anything plush and furred had been thrown into the pit. It was also a snug place to bury herself within and one of the few things she didn’t feel resentment too right away. When the outside felt too bright and she couldn’t go about the mountain to her usual quiet places, she would retire here. To burrow, to bury, to hide.

Peach fell back into the pit of blankets and pillows and pulled herself beneath a fur of some striped monster Macaque had skinned and gifted to her. Tonight the bitter truth was hard to swallow and did circles in her head.

You did this. You caused this. You killed them. This is your fault.

She closed her eyes and hoped … hoped for what might be the worst thing yet. Her husband's return.

A time later she stirred. Something was in her room- was walking to the bed. Peaches felt a flutter of fear before hands reached into her hiding place and simply slid her out.

“Hello darling.” The silken voice belonged to none other than Macaque. His clawed hands entwined around her waist, his teeth nipping at her ear. “You are up late.”

“Does that mean it will be a late morning?” Wukongs voice came from the other side of the room. Peaches could see the ginger monkey removing armor from his shoulders and stretching. As the darker brother kept making a snack of her shoulder, Peaches noticed that the shine of Wukongs paldrom was dimmed. Something black coated the golden imprint of sunbursts across its armored surface. “I love late mornings! Means more time together.”

Blood?

“Peaches?” She turned her head, trying to see Mac. He had left off nipping her skin. A hand came away from her wrist and tipped her chin, forcing her to stare directly into his violet eyes. “What has upset you?”

Everything. Myself. Wukong. You. It was that simple question that set her sorrow to flowing again. She was confused, upset, and she wanted comfort. The only ones who could give her comfort were the very ones who caused her distress.

A vicious cycle.

The pillows behind her sagged. Wukongs hands were more aggressive in their touches, turning her about to stare into her face. He noted the tears, the bruising beneath her eyes. His lip curled in anger.

“Has someone upset you?” Wukong asked. He seemed ready to stand again, to grab his armor and step out into the night. “I will drag them here to give an apology. You name them and I will fetch them.”

Peaches shook her head.

“Just ….” You killing the villagers, Macaque telling me plainly that it was for the best, and my own head making me relive that night of events. Over and over and over.

“…. Myself.”

His face softened as he chirped a reassurance, pressing his nose to hers. Macaque peppered her in gentle and butterfly soft kisses to the back of her neck. The three fell back into the nest, limbs entwined and hands holding. Macaque had Peaches face buried in his chest as she sobbed silently. He cooed. He whispered how everything would be right as rain in the morning. His hands ran through her hair and messaged her scalp. Wukong held his Peaches, pressing her back to his chest in a solid wall against the world outside. He lavished her in praises and compliments, sometimes getting carried away and talking about himself until his brother would remind him with a flick to his forehead that it was their Peaches he should be reassuring.

And through it all, through this twisted and tangled weave of limbs and fur and warmth and sorrow, Peaches felt love. It grew in this dark place still, wanting to thrive. But how could it?

Still she fell asleep, lashes sparkled with tears and her heart lighter. One could only be sad so long in the wake of such waves of attention. Wukongs and Macaques love was the only solution to this ailment they had inflicted upon her, and she, the addict, swallowing the medicine that would give her release.

[fluffypotatey]

Honestly, LMK turns the plot on its head so often that I've never voiced this due to the Macaque hate club, but legit. What if Wukong killed Macky trying to save him because as we've seen with MK, he can use that amount of force, that same line, trying to keep someone from certain doom, so why not an out of control monkey with hijacked powers? Macky just. doesn't remember. but that might even be plot relevant since Wukong also doesn't remember things, supposedly. *stares at Nine.* He might've never done anything to Tripitaka and friends, I mean, current Macky has never even SAID anything about hating those guys, heck. He out right SAYS the Monk was good for Wukong and he was allegedly killed AFTER the journey, even if the friendship ties between them never ended afterwards, I honestly struggle to see Macky even being angry enough to want to "save" Wukong as he never did before to just.....be so crazy about it to the point Wukong needs to kill him over it. He'd stand down, he WOULD listen to reason, right? Unless if something else was going on? There'd have to be some other trigger for him to just go off like that, as for all these memories. I bet the "he" Nines was talking about could have been the Demon King of Confusion. You can really make up some fun new powers there, the guy's the first villain ever in JTTW, it's kind of poetic, and also. "Demon KING." Sure, good foe for the Monkey King. They can give him the LBD treatment in raising the prestige.

What if Wukong killed Macky trying to save him[…]?

this has, honestly, been my own theory for what went down since i started lmk. like i knew they would be vague about Wukong and Mackoach’s circumstance because, you know, Wukong did a murder in jttw and this is a kid show intended for an audience of 8-10 year olds. and that kind of topic is a doozy to do right in media (Western media especially).

anyway, by s3, i was under the impression that Macky assumed Wukong killed him final blow style, but Wukong actually left him incapacitated enough for him to admit defeat (and maybe, possibly leaving him for dead, oblivious to the fact that Mac might be too weak to use his shadow powers) because of how much lmk utilizes unreliable narratives. but then, watching Wukong’s and MK’s fight really solidified that original theory of mine. when Mackintosh frees Wukong from his memories in 5x07 (also jfc Wukong literally spent a whole season trapped in his memories and has to do it all over again, my poor babygirl ;-; he’s exhausted!!!!) Wukong looks horrified.

STOP MAKING HIM RELIVE HIS PAST HE ISNT OVER IT AT ALL AND HOLDS TO MUCH GUILT AND REGRET (pls continue!!!! 🙏🙏🙏🙏 put him through the ringer!!!!! make him snap por favor 🥺🥺🥺🥺)

ahem. AnYwAY!

clearly, that fight is considered one of Wukong’s deepest and darkest memories (which were what the 100-eyed Demon was looking for. because he likes the good tea like me frfr) and doesn’t like looking back at. in a way, it makes sense with how much distance he placed between himself and Macody in 1x09 (almost….indifferent one might say 👀 or trying to act apathetic about it which comes off annoyed…..ain’t that interesting?)

but yeah. good food for thought :3

[litt1e-prince]

"Yeah Grandpa, that's the one who stole my peach!" take a swk warm up sketch while i remember how to draw again

[imminent-danger-came]

The thing that gets me most about shadowpeach, is that even if they were romantic in love (and i do think they were in love), the thing they miss desperately is their friendship

You're speaking to my acespec shadowpeach loving heart.

[kittenninja14]

if i got a nickel for every time Journey To The West used the word "said" then I'd be richer than Tony Stark

https://www.tumblr.com/kittenninja14/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

[redysetdare]

I'm sorry but lmk not being clear on what MK knows about monkey king is sooo frustrating. He's some how his biggest fan who knows so much until the story requires him to have never known anything and it's like... why did you set him up as a monkey king fan it then just decide "actually he doesn't know shit" bro grew up to adulthood hearing stories and somehow knows Jack shit about the guy he supposedly fanboys over.

[byfulcrums]

Every time I fall in love with something that was inspired by a religion, mythology, etc and I get invested in the religion/mythology/idk only to realize that the OG version is nothing like the version I saw first, I die a little on the inside

[themetallicnemesis]

Some takes on swk and macaque but im basing them more on jttw than the lego version

[a-small-tired-lonely-potato]

"Uh MK? You got a little… Thing behind you." "Yeah that's my sister, she's with me on the noodle run today since school's out." "She always so… formless?" "Nah this is just easier then trying to fit both of us in the TukTuk." "Oh. Carry on then." "Will do Mr. Peterson."

After MONTHS of NO Digital art because My pen was STOLEN by that BITCH ARRIETTY, I have finally found it and can ART on my computer once more.

Have an oc I wanted to show, but wanted to draw MK first since my Nephews, Spud & Tater Tot, were really excited to see me color him on my 'puter.

Credit to Overly Sarcastic Productions on youtube for the Wukong on MK's shirt.

I wanted to give him a shirt that had something to do with JTTW since he's a fanboy, but I realized that while he's a fanboy he's also a young adult and would adore a meme shirt, so I made him that out of a panel from OSP JTTW. Full meme and the panel from OSP that I used under cut.

I feel like that quote could be used to explain most of Sun Wukong's personality to people who don't yet know him.

[steamedlotusroot]

one of red boy’s names is 牛聖嬰 “bull sacred baby” which means he is literally holy cow

[real-sun-wukong-fan01]

All hail the fishman gave me uhshhhshhshs engrrmmmss ehuhhh

[fluffypotatey]

Do you think macaque is just that devoted to people that earn his loyalty or if its just wukong specifically? Like if he had met someone before wukong, would he have been that intense

well, we’re kind of seeing that development with MK so 👀 it’s possible that Macky is someone who is intensely loyal to certain people. I don’t think he even knew this until Wukong (look at him! centuries of drama and a bad breakup and yet that devotion is still hiding in there 🤧) and that’s might just be because Wukong was the first and only person he was devoted to

my understanding of Macky is that he is observant, patient, and is someone who prefers to be a spectator to the main plot than get involved. however we’ve seen that the times Macky’s gotten involved in certain events is because of his connection to another he feels tied to (current people are Sun Wukong and MK). it works well with him being a shadow magic user because when in the shadows, you are not the focal point of people’s attention and shadows are there to highlight lighter areas better.

but tbh I don’t think macky had been super devoted to anyone until he met Wukong and that crashed and burned which made him more cautious (see his complete detachment from LBD as well as macky keeping his distance from Mei, Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy) but MK somehow slipped through the cracks and is reforging a new one

idk it’s fascinating