tootiepatoot

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[JTTW OC: 智平] They never announced they were officially together during the journey, they just started to exclusively wear coordinated outfits and expected everyone else to get the hint.

(click for quality) (click this for wukong solo post!)

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So I recently finished Black Myth Wukong and the brainrot hit me HARD

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filtering down ao3 results from 14000 to 6 based on a single tag is foul. im sorry none of you are as enlightened as me ig.

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They’re so silly

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Illustration done for my personal Black Myth: Wukong journal entry bind I'm working on. This is a screenshot I took from and then traced over it

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#946C47 | SUN WUKONG.

genre | angst

word count | 5363

warning | violence, blood, death / potential ooc + not accurate to jttw​

note | black myth wukong shorthand is bmw haha

part | one, two, three

Befriending the group was a fascinating experience because you read about them in storybooks long ago. You were also not used to hearing pigs talk, seeing a humanoid monkey walk on two feet, and conversing with someone with human skulls for a necklace. 

They were easy to warm up to, though, and you learned a lot of things on your quest to rid yourself of 3000 lives. From the fact that Sanzang’s meat might not actually grant immortality, to finding out Bajie was a rather decent companion, to realizing Wukong was much stronger than you assumed after you failed miserably at picking up his staff. 

You figured he would be strong. He wasn’t granted the title of the Victorious Fighting Buddha for no reason. It just didn’t occur to you that he would be that strong. Enough to snicker at you while he swings his seemingly hundred thousand pounds staff with one hand while his other arm hoists you onto his shoulder like you weigh nothing.

He walked (even jogged) for miles like that—supporting the weight of you and the staff. You tried not to think at all about his hand on your thigh. He did it to secure you on his shoulder, that was all.

In addition to the trivial details, there were three things you kept to heart.

One, death is painful, but not in the way you expected it to be. 

Although, you wagered your opinion was based on the fact that your deaths were magical (having your soul sucked by Buddhas) rather than violent (getting impaled by the claws of a yaoguai). 

More than feeling your flesh tear and skin punctured, it felt like going through sleep paralysis, where you acknowledged your aliveness but were unable to act accordingly. You could see or sense a pitch-black surrounding, but your eyes felt as though they were closed. You can hear the sound of your body shutting down, such as the bursting of your cells and the cracking of bones, but you cannot feel them. 

You only knew your body was breaking down; you didn’t get to feel it. 

Desperation conjured hallucinations of your limbs moving, escaping the void, only to be frightened by the fact that you haven’t progressed an inch. 

More than physical pain, the ridding of 3000 lives felt like a never-ending torture on your consciousness through alarming paradoxes that played around with the connection between your mind and body. You always end up a sobbing mess, and the awakened ones could never continue what was requested of them. 

Two, Wukong was extremely hell-bent on keeping his dreams about you a secret. 

From the day Erlang Shen revealed to you of his intimate dreams, he had not answered a single question regarding that. 

Sometimes, he would change the topic, shifting the responsibility of keeping you occupied onto one of his friends. Other times, he would make up an excuse to flee the scene, such as a random bushes in the dark rustling or his stomach growling for food. He also blatantly ignored you several times, but that has proven itself to be an ineffective strategy. 

Bajie urged you many times to give up on this unimportant side quest, and he accused you of your stubbornness by explaining how he didn’t understand why it was important that you knew what happened in Wukong’s dreams. 

You tried to elaborate to him that you wanted to clarify what kind of intimacy Erlang spoke of. Was he talking about something sweet and romantic, such as locking fingers, touching foreheads, and revealing to each other your darkest secrets? Or was Wukong dreaming about something more desperate, like heavy lips and sweaty bodies slamming against each other in a frenzy?

He told you he would stop having impure thoughts back then, so you already have a faint idea. You just wanted to hear the details and use them as a catalyst for something. 

Three, Sanzang didn’t like you that much.

You had a feeling; a sixth sense. As a monk, he remained virtuous and polite to you. It was his sworn duty to be so. However, you have been a third-party observer of numerous friend group fallouts and been forced into one too many complicated family dramas to not figure out when someone’s likeness toward you was fraudulent. 

Avoiding being alone with you, deterring you away from the center of any conversation, and subtly accosting you for hindering their journey to acquire scriptures while patronizing your lack of endurance for death—Sanding was never flamboyant about his feelings, but if there was one thing the high school social network and holiday family dinners have taught you, it was how to fish out a phony in disguise. 

It took you a long time to muster enough courage to talk to Wukong about it, considering you understood how much Wukong came to care for Sanzang after all the hardships they’d been through. You might come off presumptuous if you went ahead and accused the monk like that, and it seemed like you did come off that way because Wukong brushed you off when you presented the problem, chalking it up to you still being relatively new to the group. 

You went to him again with examples as evidence, but Wukong considered them anecdotal. He didn’t say much besides how you were overthinking things and that everyone was happy to help you. The conversation left you dissatisfied and disappointed, so the next time you brought it up, it was a direct but gentle confrontation. Emphasis on gentle, as you knew you’d come off as if you stomped on the feet of a soft-spoken man. 

But, trying to have an adult conversation with Sanzang about your grievances was like talking to a brick wall. He calmly absorbed your words and never returned them. You were on the same page of a book, except you read from the top, and he read backward. 

Wujing tried to alleviate tension by shifting the topic elsewhere, but his voice was mostly drowned out by your unbreakable sentences. Bajie was acting as the voice of reason. However, he was impatient and wanted to be done with such an unimportant matter. Wukong didn’t say anything to aid either side, but when you turned to him at some point, hoping for a supportive hand, he repeated that you were overthinking and needed to let the matter go. 

You couldn’t read him. You wondered if he didn’t believe in your accusations at all or that he believed in it but didn’t think you should make a big deal out of being wronged. Bajie related an identical sentiment when you chatted with him one night.

“My master isn’t tying you by a tree and throwing rocks at you. He is only acting out a petty feud, or so you believe,” he said as he split an apple in half and handed it to you. 

“I don’t think I am being delusional,” you said after muttering thanks for the fruit. “He doesn’t like me.”

“So what if that’s true? People are allowed to dislike you,” Bajie snorted. “You don’t own a monopoly in human suffering just because a monk sees you disdainfully. Stop acting like it’s the end of the world.”

You grimaced with a strangled noise of protest, head snapping toward his direction as if he answered a question lost to the ages. Quickly chewing the apple in your mouth, you defended, “I’m not that childish.” 

“Well, I don’t like you right now. You’re whiny!”

Dropping the apple on your lap, you realized there was nothing around the area for you to grab and throw at him but the grass and dirt on the floor, so you scoffed and leaned back against the tree trunk. 

The pig side-eyed you briefly, still munching on the delicious apple. He says such insensitive things, but he knows if it had been himself who suspected anyone in the group was acting with a grudge against him, he would have reacted worse. 

It is human nature to desire likeness and to feel downhearted when it isn’t received. Especially when it came to someone one might fancy.

He weighed the almost finished apple in his hand and played around with it, the gears in his head moving to find something to say.

“忍一时风平浪静，退一步海阔天空,” he said. “Tolerance is a honed virtue. Among demons, yaoguais, the Gods, and humans, your kind most excels in it.”

“Are you talking me up, Bajie?” You chuckled. It was barely audible, but your amused smirk was out and about. “Giving me a pep talk to be the bigger person.” 

“Is it working?” 

“Hmm,” you feigned thoughtfulness, “if only I could have one of these sweet apples every day–“

“Gah! Go pick it yourself, you lazy bum! Learn how to climb a tree!”

You laughed, but the witty response hanging by your lips retreated when you met eyes with Wukong, who approached the tree to rest for the night. He paused at the unexpected attention. His fingers twitched with an urge to reach out, an absentminded reaction to seeing you, but he didn’t respond. 

You pursed your lips when he nodded curtly and turned around to find someplace else, your shoulders heaving into an illusional state of relaxation as your fingers pulled at each other awkwardly. 

Bajie shook his head incredulously at what he witnessed. 

It was hard not to notice the distance between you and Wukong, considering how inseparable you used to be. Not walking next to each other, him expressing no concerns when you ran off to look at something, you ceased your habit of leaning against him whenever you sat down at a resting point—trivial but noticeable things that Bajie brushed off as temporary ‘lover’s’ quarrel. 

He gave you two a push to reach reconciliation by concocting a plan. The point was to get you and Wukong alone and force you to talk it out so they wouldn’t have to fit through another day of melancholic eyes longing for each other. Why has the problem gotten to sharing awkward glances and contributing to a deafening silence?

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” he asked. “I thought we got you to talk to each other!”

“You did,” you muttered. “We just fought.” 

His eye twitched in annoyance. “About what?”

“I was upset that he didn’t try to understand my point of view at all, let alone not stand up for me,” you said. “He disagreed. He still thinks I’m being dramatic about Sanzang.”

“You might be!” 

“Okay,” you mused in an attempt to alleviate the tightening knot in your chest.

Bajie and Wukong were reasonable to some degree, but a fact does not equal the truth, nor are they contingent on each other. 

You could be whiny, you could be overthinking the way you were being treated, and you could be the bigger person—they could all be true, but that doesn’t eliminate the fact that you were unjustly accused of your humanity. If nobody wanted to understand that, you supposed you’d just have to keep to yourself and heed Bajie’s advice. 

“What are you doing?”

“Going for a walk,” you replied. “I’m yielding like you suggested.”

The pig sighed. “I’m not blaming you, kid.”

“I know,” you said. “I just want some fresh air.”

He looked at you, his gaze pointed as if trying to get you to tell him the truth, but you only smiled and waved him farewell.

"Get up, idiot. Something's amiss." 

Wukong clicked his tongue as he rubbed the spot where Bajie knocked him over with the trusty rake. If his long-term companion didn't sound so concerned, he would have retaliated with a kick or two. 

"It's the middle of the night," he said, pushing himself up from the floor.

Scratching the back of his head, he blinked in surprise when he noticed Wujing and Sanzang gathering behind Bajie, one of them already up on the horse while the other huffed cold air out of his nostrils in alert. Subtly rolling his eyes skyward to peek at its color, Wukong confirmed that it was still dark out and the sun hadn't begun to rise yet. If everyone woke from slumber in the dead of night, something must be terribly wrong. 

Although, he swore he didn't feel anything in his sleep. No invisible stares from beyond the shadows, no figures hiding in tall plants, and no rattling of tiptoes on the ground. If anyone—or anything—was near with malicious intent, he would have felt it, so he wasn't sure what danger Bajie was speaking of. 

However, the precaution in his head, which took years to drape over his fearless bones, told him to get up and leave at the first sign of danger, so he listened. He dusted his sleeves of dirt and bugs and looked to his friends, subconsciously counting the heads—one, two, three. 

Wukong tilted his head. 

One, two, three. Sanzang, Bajie, Wujing. 

A sinking suspicion entered his body like a sudden downpour. "Where–" 

"We don't know," Bajie cut him off. "They went for a walk to clear their head and haven't returned since."

"You didn't follow them?" Wukong questioned, immediately pulling his staff from his ear. 

The golden glow vanished like dust in a whirlwind. Alas, it can't reveal trails of a certain human's footsteps. He nudged his chin to cast his sight farther, particularly to peek at where you were sitting the last time he saw you under the tree. You weren't there. Obviously. He got caught up with wishful thinking.

"Why would I? I'm no stalker," Bajie retorted. "They said they'll just be around the area. I don't expect them to walk off elsewhere."

"That's not the point!" Wukong exclaimed. "Yaoguais are out and about at night, setting traps and creating illusions. The path they see could be a trick to lure them into a yaoguai's home–" he grumbled and stepped near Bajie–"you should know that!" 

“Watch your tone, dimwit! They wanted space so I gave them space!" Bajie said, swinging his rake forward to poke at Wukong’s chest, forcing him back a few steps. "If you want someone to blame, point a finger at yourself. You’re the reason they needed fresh air in the first place!”

“Cut it out, both of you.” Sanzang’s voice was mellow, yet it held overwhelming authority over the group. His horse moved a few echoing steps forward. “The night will not get any brighter. For the sake of our journey tomorrow, we should set out immediately.”

“We should split up. Master and I will go up North to check,” Wukong said. “You two move Southward.”

Bajie closed his eyes with a defeated sigh when Wukong bounced off without another word. 

Blaming Wukong wasn't technically wrong, but if there was someone to blame for your disappearance, it would be no other than the monk. He briefly contemplated your circumstance after you left for a walk and realized an egregious fact that everyone seemed to have overlooked. 

Sanzang never denied your accusations.

This would have never been a problem if Sanzang had cleared his name during the first confrontation. An apology wasn’t necessary, and no dignity would be lost. He didn’t even have to argue with you to make a point. All he needed to do was let you know that your impression of him was incorrect and that he didn’t dislike you. But he never said anything of that sort because a virtuous monk cannot tell a lie. 

He had planned to notify Wukong of the discovery in secret, but he’d have to wait until you were found. However, if Bajie’s goal was to change the trajectory of Wukong’s opinion, then monkey king has got it covered on his own.

The abrupt anger retreated from its displacement once Wukong fled in search of you. He covered his faintly showing canines with a frown as he soared through the air on his nimbus cloud. The forest trees were healthy and densely grown, leaving few gaps for him to look through. He would have better luck on the ground, morphed into a flying insect, but he'd have to sacrifice speed for the precision. 

A whirlpool of emotions fluttered over his chest at the newfound complication. Wukong wasn't sure which one to pick from the array of negative choices. Should he fear for your life? Should he act frantic and travel the forest in one sweep motion? Should he hang onto the guilt of knowing that this was his doing?

An unwanted recollection forced its way into the front of his eyes. He could see it like a vivid hallucination: you and him standing around a riverbank after the frustrating exchange. You awkwardly rubbed your arms as if to protect yourself from his disagreement, and he remembered how he didn't understand the look in your eyes. No tears, no desperation, just exhaustion and hurt. 

He was once like that, back when they got triple-tricked by Baigujing, and Sanzang tightened his gold fillet until he could barely breathe anymore. He understood the desire to be believed and the frustration of being wronged, albeit he wagered he had been much more desperate than you back then because of the physical pain that descended upon him. 

Why didn’t he hear you out? If his master was so virtuous, he would understand the need to listen to both sides of an argument.

"Where are you, where are you, where are you?" he muttered.

“[Name]!”

You perked up immediately at the holler. The back of your head collided softly with the pointed edge of the giant rock you hid behind once you realized you couldn’t outrun the yaogaui in its turf, but the pain was barely even a fraction worse than the horrible lacerations on the back of your legs. 

There were only a few things you managed to conclude at this point.

One, illusions were involved in luring you to the yaoguai's home. That was the only way you could have gotten lost when you've barely walked away from the resting spot.

Two, the yaoguai possesses sharp claws or a form of magic that mimics them. This was evident from your injuries. 

Three, you've got a concussion. You may not know how to medically diagnose if someone has a concussion, but considering you tripped and fell off an elevated temple headfirst and you've experienced numerous physical problems since then, it was safe to say you got a concussion.

Four, you have lost a copious amount of blood despite applying limited first-aid. The wounds were too deep into your flesh, and the blood continued to pour no matter how tightly you wrapped the fabric around it. The repercussions weren't apparent because you were too light-headed to think or see. 

But you recognized Wukong’s voice. 

The adrenaline pumping through your veins didn't stop the pathetic whimpers from sounding as you tried to get up from the floor. Your whole body trembled, and blood squirted out from the muscle strains, further staining your sweater. 

You dropped onto the ground multiple times before you finally allowed yourself an audible cry, in which your eyes squeezed shut, and the corner of your lips turned downwards the way they haven't turned since you were a child and scraped your knees. 

His voice echoed through the forest, seemingly coming from above. Arching your head, you looked up to find moon rays beaming down between gaps in leaves, but he was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing dryly, you pushed your elbows backward against the rock and tried to exert force with your thighs. You barely managed to lift your body up before a sharp pain bladed across your opened wounds, and your nails dug into the dirt on the ground again.

You were trying your best. It wasn’t enough. There have been countless cases of people surviving impossible injuries, perhaps from a miracle or sheer will, and you were not one of those people. Your body has its limit and you’ve just about reached the point before death.

You muttered his name softly under your breath like a plea as easy thoughts flooded your brain in its descension to a blackout. 

You wanted Wukong to find you. You wanted to go home and hang out with your friends. You wanted him to see you all shrunken behind a rock and get you from here. You wanted to eat a meal your mom made. You wanted him to carry you in his arms so you could feel safe again. 

“[Name]!”

His voice was diminishing, as was your window to be noticed.

You jolted, frightened, and eyes wide. Squeezed a ball of dirt in your hand, you stared up at the sky where his voice trailed off and, with strength that came from nowhere, hastily and clumsily scrambled onto your feet. Your throat choked up with tears that forced its way into your voice. 

“I’m here–ah!” You bit back the broken sting in your legs and stumbled forward, your bloodied sweater sleeve dragging on the floor. “Please… I’m sorry. Come back, I’m here.” 

A black veil draped over your eyes, and you couldn't tell if you were blinking or losing consciousness. Your chances of being rescued were dramatically decreasing, and you knew that, so you pursed your lips together and sucked in a demanding breath. When you lashed out with the only chance you've got, the scream was hoarse and dry but shrill and piercing. 

“Wukong!”

Without hesitation, he hopped off the nimbus cloud to get to the ground. His feet kicked swiftly to bring him toward your voice. His speed rattled the air, leaving cuts that could open a third dimension, if possible. 

You noticed the shifts in the environment before you saw him, and that was enough for you to disregard the pain in your body so you could bolt ahead of you and meet him in the middle. 

The first thing he did when you emerged from the greenery was call your name, and the second was extend his arm out toward you. Relief washed over him despite your bloodied figure at the sight of you closing in, and just as his fingertips were about to wrap over your hand, a strong gust of wind blew across his side of the forest. It was incomparable to Raksasi's power but enough to crack a few splits on tree logs.

Wukong hopped back to avoid getting hit by its strength, but it knocked him a few feet backward. He landed on his feet in a crouching position, coincidentally startling Sanzang's horse, which had finally caught up with him. When he glanced up at his master, he found a distressed expression, so he turned to face the same direction—he gasped, his fingers curling tighter around his staff. 

“I found you!” the yaoguai mused as it brought you to its face.

A terrifying weight shut into your fragile body as the yaoguai squeezed you in its hand. It waved you about clumsily, playing with the direction of your blood like flipping around an hourglass. You thought it would feel like getting your finger caught between a door and its frame, just a quick bend of a bone, but that kind of pain was sharp and alerting. This one—slowly having your insides squeezed out of you—was anxious and agonizing. 

The injuries on your legs felt like child's play; you could barely feel them anymore as the lack of air overwhelmed you. You tried to heave through your mouth, but your chest could no longer expand with limited space. No air could travel into your body, let alone exhaling. 

"What are you going to do, Wukong?" Sanzang hurriedly asked when he saw his disciple walk toward the monster. 

“What I always do,” Wukong replied. “Kill it.”

An echoing scream rolled out from the yaogaui's entire body. It didn't just scream from its mouth, but its body followed too as it tripped and stumbled, its many arms flailing about in pain when Wukong threw the staff and pierced it into one of its two bugged eyes. You flinched at the horrifically high frequency; it was like scratching a metal fork on a porcelain plate but making the sound as invading as a gunshot. 

The yaoguai lost its grip on you during its dramatic response to being blinded, and you were flung high into the air. For a moment, you could see far and wide across the terrain, gazing down on the head of the forest as if you were a bird taking a leisure stroll. 

Your eyes invited the mass of green in different shades, life in the form of nature, the first to ever live. Your ears rang with a muffled hum. It was peaceful enough as though the moon shone its purifying light directly into your eardrums.

You almost felt bad for the yaoguai. This was its home, not yours. 

“What did you do to my eye!”

The tranquility cut open once you began to fall from the height. It was fast, like a drop in a roller coaster, but you knew even those machines were built with safety measures to control the carts’ speed. Not a second later, though, a gold glow surrounded your body like a cold embrace, and you found yourself suspended in the air. You didn’t need to turn you head (you couldn’t) to know Wukong put a spell on you. 

Immediately kicking up his feet, Wukong bolted toward your direction, his arms stretched out, waiting for the spell to wear off. 

Within a short time, he calculated the route of rescue and defeat, and his plan worked in his favor. 

It would all be over in a jiffy. He would bring you to a Keeper’s Shrine to accelerate the healing spell. Bajie was better at the spells so he should ask the pig to help you instead. After that, he’d apologize with all the fruits he could pick from the forest. You could eat it by the river like usual, or under the shade of an old tree that, centuries later, would tell the story of a human and a monkey, and he would watch you, like usual. 

Wukomg's ears perked up at the sound of hooves paddling closely, and he glanced behind his shoulder. His brows furrowed, his cheeks scrunching with confusion when he saw Sanzang following behind into the battle. 

“Master, what are you–“

“Tang Sanzang!” It was a hearty exclaim, like a fanatic meeting their favorite idol. “Have you arrived to serve me your immortal flesh!” 

“Master!” 

The horse toppled over and fell when its rider was violently snatched out of its seat. Panic. Deep-rooted panic swarmed over Wukong's head as his eyes followed Sanzang in the air, his poor monk body inching closer and closer to the yaoguai's impatiently opened mouth. 

A blush of red crossed his face to accompany the uncontrollable tremors sparking over his body. His head flipped between his master descending into the yaoguai's mouth and the immobilization spell quick to wear out—Sanzang would be chewed to death, and you would fall to your death. 

The universe was screaming at him. Pick one! Pick one!

In a spur of the moment, Wukong swung his palm out at the yaoguai as he jumped toward you. The staff still lodged in its eye expanded under his silent command, becoming longer and thicker. The yaoguai screamed once more upon its body being torn inwardly, its hasty movement causing blood to splutter out of the gaps of the staff's two openings like a fountain. You fell from a great height, your body almost meeting Wukong's outstretched arms, and then you choked. 

Blood poured out of your mouth, coating your dry lips. Sticking out of your abdomen was the unfortunately timed Ruyi Jingu Bang.

The staff shrunk immediately when Wukong realized what he’d done. You dropped from its support and fell into his arms. He cradled you, a hand timidly coming up to your forehead to wipe the sweat away before looking up.

"Help–" he lost his voice–"Master, help me!" 

He didn't need help. He merely needed to scream something. There were too many things happening—your injuries, his weapon piercing through your body, and all the blood on the floor.

With his mind set on finding a Keeper's Shrine and somehow notifying Bajie of your whereabouts, he stood up and spun on his heels, ready to run for the nearest safe place. However, before he could take five steps away from the vanished yaoguai, the gold fillet tightened around his head, and you dropped together. 

Wukong withered in pain on the ground, his hands pressing firmly against his head as if trying to scratch the headband off. 

“Master, what are you… argh…what are you doing!” 

It was less a question than it was an accusation. This—forbidding Wukong from saving you—was the ultimate evidence needed to prove your point that Sanzang didn’t like you, but why? Wukong couldn’t understand. His master wasn’t a hateful person. He was a trusted individual! Why would Sanzang betray him like this?

Sanzang’s hand was placed under his chin as he chanted the spell repeatedly. His clothes were stained with soil and the blood of a yaoguai, yet all his attention remained on forcing Wukong to his knees. He slowly approached his disciple, ignoring the desperate bargains to save your life. 

“This is for our good, Wukong. It helps the mortal, too, to get rid of the many lives they’ve illegally taken from the garden.” 

"That was my mistake! I did that! That was me! Punish me!" Wukong looked at your fallen body. You were staring back at him like a ghost, like the misery of his own making. He swallowed a difficult breath and, while leaning into the manmade migraine, crawled over to you. “[Name]–ah! Stop it, stop it, stop it! It hurts! Please!" 

His cries drowned in the loud ringing in your ears. You stared at him, given you were not sure what else you could be looking at. Your body has gotten to the point where your injuries have stopped hurting, and you were left with all the casual thoughts roaming freely in your head. You could hear them like certain people could genuinely hear voices in their heads—if you could chuckle at the notion, you would. 

You wondered if you would resurrect, courtesy to the immortal peach? You cheered that your point was proven, even though it took all the pain and violence in the world. Perhaps you could write an exciting story about this experience or help a writer by describing how it feels to be impaled—it just hurts! 

Oh, and you wanted to touch him. If it’s possible at all, you wanted to die holding Wukong’s hand. He was always so warm. 

You wondered if he was still upset with you. If he was, even after this, you'd throw a childish fit.

Wukong's headache gradually mellowed out after you closed your eyes, and your last breath was barely visible. He stayed on the floor for a prolonged while, his once hollowed eyes relaxing depressively. But he couldn't move from where he lay, close enough to see you and far enough to pretend you were only sleeping. You used to sleep next to him at each resting point. Sometimes, you'd even press up against him to fight the cold. 

His breathing became shallow and jagged as he pushed himself onto his knees and stuttered over to you. He leaned down to pick you up, and then he slumped onto the ground with you limp on his lap. He hugged you tightly to his body. Your body shouldn't feel so weak. The image of you dying by his weapon was vivid, and his eyes were rendered so quiet and dead that a drop of water would be louder.

"Wukong." No response. "They will resurrect. This death is not definitive."

“I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t want them to get hurt like this,” Wukong whispered. “Please leave us be.”

Sanzang complied with the request. 

[tootiepatoot]

#946C47 | SUN WUKONG.

genre | fluff

word count | 3738

warning | minor lewd thoughts from wukong / potential ooc + not accurate to jttw​

note | annoying monkey man i was forced to study back in middle school came back hot?

part | one, two, three

The ripe peach in front of you looked suspicious. Even though you thought yourself hungry enough to eat the fruit in one bite, you held back and raised a brow at the monkey sitting cross-legged in front of you instead. 

The river stream flowed like it had never seen disaster once, and perhaps the bed of clear water really hadn't. You wouldn't know until you figure out where you are, which has proven itself to be a difficult feat. You have prioritized coming to terms with the fact that you’ve been transported inside a fictional story above all else. 

Part of you wanted to say you were on Mount Huaguo because it was where you met Wukong, but the grouping of Bajie, Sanzhang, and Wujing told you otherwise. If you remember the tale you studied in high school, they should be on their trip to acquire scriptures. You have yet to figure out which of the 81 catastrophes they were facing, and you would like to stay in the dark about that, as figuring it out would mean you've been roped into one of them as well. 

To be fair, you might have accidentally become the 82nd catastrophe Wukong has to face by accidentally teleporting to his world. If helping a modern person return to their home was such a huge issue. 

You thought it must be, though, because the group had collectively decided to halt their significant journey so Wukong could focus on taking you to the celestial court, where you were more likely to find people who could bring you home. 

It was a huge sacrifice on his part, considering his interesting experiences with the likes of those associated with heaven. That much you understood, and you would thank him a million times and more if he was more serious about the concept of communication. Sometimes, trying to chat with him was like talking with a middle school kid who still finds fart jokes humorous.

"This is a regular peach," you said, your voice filled with doubt. 

“No, it’s a rock I changed into a peach. I want you to lose all your teeth!” Wukong exclaimed. He pushed his fingers at his upper lip to reveal his canines, but his grin faded when you responded with deadpan eyes. Retracting his hands, he blinked at you incredulously, the hair around his eyes swaying in disbelief over your distrust. Pulling a face at your seriousness, he nodded. "Yes. It is a regular peach."

"You picked it from a tree," you said. 

"Yes," he replied nonchalantly. 

"How come it took you so long?" 

“Peach trees don’t come for free. The closest one was far away.”

"I thought you were a fast monkey."

"I was taking a stroll through the forest."

He would do that. You told him you were hungry, and he had repeatedly made fun of your stomach growls. He knew you were starving for food—the kind of food you were used to eating, which was limited to the fruits growing on trees, and you wouldn't be surprised if he took his sweet time picking a single peach anyway. 

"Okay," you said as you picked the peach up and weighed it in your palm. It was useless. You never learned how much a real, good peach should weigh. "I'm not going to accidentally bite down on a clone."

"Oh, dear," he mused, putting a hand over his heart to feign disappointment. "That is most terrible! I would never do that to you!" 

“You have, for more times than I can count with both of my hands, shape-shifted into a rock just to watch me panic.”

"That I did! But the real issue is, you gullible one–“ he picked up his staff and playfully knocked the end against your head–“you fell for it more than ten times!”

You pursed your lips at his reaction. The trickster smile playing on his lips provided you no reassurance that he hadn't planned a prank to pull on you. At the same time, you realized the trick he was pulling may be paranoia, where you were the butt of the joke for believing he would waste a pluck of his hair just to watch you freak out over biting his clone.

Or perhaps the Wukong in front of you was the clone, and the real one was the peach in your hand.

"Wukong," you called softly, an exhausted exhale burning through your lips. "I'm really hungry."

He softened after a few seconds, his lips tightening into a thin line as he awkwardly looked away. 

You’ve fallen for his tricks multiple times despite knowing what kind of character he was. 

Him pushing you off tall cliffs just to catch you with the nimbus cloud; him turning himself into a rock so you’d think he had abandoned you in the middle of a forest full of monsters; jumping around trees and bursting through bushes like a maniac to scare you at night—repeatable pranks that overwhelmed you with fear and anger. 

You were too gullible was his accuse, but he knew more than anyone the problem was his tendency for trickery. You were never wrong for trusting him, and under particular circumstances, Wukong’s loyalty to you was engraved in his bones. It was evident in his ever-near presence and readiness to protect you from danger.

Otherwise, though, acting rather barbaric wasn’t a habit he could completely rid himself of. 

He didn't used to care at all about how you felt. Without Sanzhang here to tighten his gold fillet, he had been free to fool around at will until one incident when he accidentally dropped you in a cave that was the home to a wild yaoguai and ignored your panicked cries for help in an attempt to garner his sympathy.

You hadn't the energy to be mad at him after he saved you. He was used to your anger, your strengthless fists knocking at his chest, and a mouthful of empty threats he never took to heart. You didn’t do any of those that time, and neither could you move on from the corner you had scrambled toward after he hopped down to defeat the monster. 

Rigid like a stone and unresponsive as if you couldn't hear him, it didn't take Wukong long to realize you were in shock from almost being fatally attacked. 

He had to pick you up and carry you for the rest of the day. Your legs had been as weak as jelly, and all you did was cry to his shoulder, your arms curling around his neck as if he were a genuine savior. It hit him like an earthquake how small you were compared to himself—your muscles lacked confidence, and your movements were without skill.

You weren’t immortal; one mere strike would end you.

Wukong almost choked himself at the thought. His grip on your back and under your knees tightened to pull you closer to him. He didn’t apologize, but he swore on his many immortal lives that he would never pull any pranks on you again. 

Sanzhang has the tightening spell to stop the monkey king from fooling around. All you needed to carry was yourself. 

"Of course, you're hungry. You're such a picky eater," Wukong scolded as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just a peach. I promise."

You squinted at his honest face, then leaned in to catch yourself in his eyes. he tensed up, his breath stopping in his nose and the hair on his neck standing abruptly upon the proximity. The contrast of a physiological response to extreme cold to the burning heat souring his veins was uncomfortable, not in a way that produced hatred but rather a reawakening. 

A reawakening that, within these past few months, on your journey together to get you the help you needed to return home, he has developed an attachment to you. 

“It's a normal peach! Take it or leave it!" 

You scoffed and leaned back, ignoring his attitude. Wukong pressed his palm to his jaw and rested his weight on it. His eyes darted away to avoid you, but once the shyness reduced from his body, they slowly returned to watch you admire the ripe peach in your hands.

"Boo!" he screamed when you bit the fruit. 

"Ah!" You flinched and dropped the fruit from your palm. A golden glow engulfed it before hitting the floor, stilling the fruit in the air. You clicked your tongue at the sight and perked up, your furrowed brows not at all intimidating. "Sun Wukong!" 

He laughed. The sound was boisterous as usual, enough to make the leaves roar and the crows fly. "You're such a scaredy cat!" 

"I'm–" you held back a denial–"I just didn't want to hurt your clone."

His laughter slowed to a final chuckle, and then he shrugged. It was a useless precaution, but he warmed at the fact that you even thought about it. "You can't hurt me." 

"Well, I don't intend to," you said after you caught the peach in your hands. You nodded at him. "Thank you for the food."

You began to admire the peach again, then you took a bite and marveled at its taste. Wukong snickered endearingly at how you acted like you've never had a good peach before. His heart rested easy as you devoured it whole, and he ignored how your lips glimmered beneath the coat of your saliva. 

Apparently, promises meant nothing to the monkey king because a few weeks or so after you took a bite of the peach, you two were taken to the celestial court for a crime. 

It took him so long to find a peach on a tree, which the forest was riddled with, was because it wasn't a regular peach you ate. It was an immortal peach. He went to steal it from the peach garden in heaven. 

“Have you any idea what you’ve done?”

"Good grief, you really are handsome."

"What?" Wukong's questioning voice snapped you out of your trance. 

You shook your head and blinked harshly to rid yourself of the embarrassment. You have just been notified that you were granted 3000 years of life because you ate a forbidden fruit from a place you didn't even believe in ten seconds ago, and all you could exclaim was that Erlang Shen has got to be the most attractive man you've ever seen, just as the stories described him as. 

His third eye was off-putting, though. It was not because you weren't used to seeing a person with an extra eye, but because you didn't like that he could see through you like transparent glass. You tried to focus on the bright side of it—he would know that you and Wukong were telling the truth, that you were not a fraud. 

"I'm sorry. I don't..." your breath hitched when you noticed the four heavenly kings staring at you. You wondered if they even heard your meek voice. Stepping back, you hid behind Wukong, shrinking your shoulders and lightly grasping his sleeve. "I don't know."

He glanced at your grip on his battered shirt. Your reliance on him sent a shiver down his spine. Looking up at Erlang, Wukong shrugged. “I did what I thought was best.”

“Care to elaborate, monkey?”

“This mortal is not of this world. The only reason I even traveled all this way to face you insolent lots was because my master and I have decided you may be the only ones capable of sending them back!” Wukong clarified. 

“He's not lying!” you added hastily, unaware of where the abrupt courage came from. “I am not from here. I came from the twenty-first century–uhh…” You sighed defeatedly. “You won’t know what that means.” 

“The path to the celestial court is too rigorous. For the mortal’s safety, I must provide them with a second option.”

Erlang frowned. He couldn’t deduce an ounce of deception from Wukong or you. Your words were confusing, but they rang true. He tilted his head, accessing you further with his third eye, and then he hummed, “Where did you come from?”

“I… um…” you fidgeted with your fingers. “I was on a plane. There was awful turbulence, and I think it was crashing. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was here.”

“Monkey, do you understand their words?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Wukong replied. “They have attempted to explain things to me, but it all sounded like impossible ideas. A flying building that can carry more than thirty people at a time? There’s simply no way.”

“It’s not a building. It’s a plane,” you clarified. 

“You said it’s as big as a building!” 

“I am comparing the sizes so you have a better idea of how big a plane is,” you said. “I’m not saying a plane is a building.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“Silence!” 

Goosebumps appeared all over your skin at Erlang’s holler. Wukong shut his eyes and clicked his tongue in annoyance, unfazed by the wind that blew past you both.

“It was a good choice not to deceive me,” Erlang said. “But even then, nothing explains why you stole an immortal peach from the garden and gave it to a human.”

“The path to the celestial court is rigorous,” Wukong argued. “It is riddled with yaoguais, abandoned murals cursed to hell and back, and uneven grounds. A mortal would die before they make it here.”

“That’s because they weren’t supposed to.”

“How do you suggest they return home, you three-eyed freak?” Wukong said. 

“They cannot,” Erlang informed. “ After eating the peach, we mustn’t allow their departure with 3000 years of life. You shouldn’t have given them one.”

“I gave them one so they can have a shot at getting all the way here to seek the help they need! My actions are justified!”

Erlang remained silent for a moment. His eyes darted between you and Wukong. One of you reeked of partial deception; his third eye gleamed with an uncomfortable redness that forced you to look away. Before you could, your attention shifted to the man who called upon you.

“Mortal,” Erlang started with a calculative smile. He released his weapon into thin air, and it vanished. Then, he placed a hand behind his back and the other before his abdomen. “Have you any idea what this monkey thinks of you?”

“Huh? I–“ You looked at Wukong, who glared at Erlang with a conversation you couldn’t hear. “I don’t know. He protected me all this time so I suppose we are good friends.”

“Good friends!” Erlang boasted. He turned to Wukong, nodding humorously. “Did you hear that, monkey? After all the effort!”

“Erlang.”

“Mortal! Do you know the monkey dreams about you intimately?” 

“Erlang Shen!”

Wukong’s staff appeared in his hands as he lunged at the man. He raised it in the air, ready to pierce the pole through his forehead, only to catch Erlang raising his hand and motioning it toward your direction. Wukong swallowed a gasp, his head snapping over to where you stood. His body maneuvered away from Erlang to you, and a bolt of lightning hit the gold staff along with the spear before dissipating. The spear, too, returned to its owner. 

You blinked. Not a flinch ripped over your body, and that was not the result of a delayed reaction but rather a learned response. For as long as you have stayed with Wukong, there has only been one occasion when danger barely scraped past you. Besides that, you have never been scratched. Wukong hasn’t allowed one mistake. You’ve gotten so used to his presence as a symbol of safety that you didn’t flinch when Erlang Shen threw his spear at you.

Wukong would catch it. You knew, and he did. You remained unscathed.

Erlang stilled his movement to wait for the unfolding of the interaction to be contrived. He didn’t need to do anything physical to Wukong. This confrontation would probably be punishment enough. After all, the monkey king has fallen in love with a mortal. 

Staring up at the back of his head, you twirled your thumbs as you recalled what Erlang said. “Wukong… you…”

He hissed timidly, sparing a short glance behind his shoulder before looking away as he lowered his staff. How could Erlang have figured that out so quickly? It must have meant those thoughts consumed him, and indeed they did. Every night, at the very least, when you slept next to him. He tried not to look at you a lot, staring at the moon to distract himself. Yet, his mind remained full. 

The moon's beauty wasn’t enough to deter him from thinking about you. Skin bare, clothes torn; trapped beneath his weight, hands restrained, eyes barely opened; glistening with sweat and drool, trembling between uncontrollable pants of his name. What nonsense that he thought the moon could distract him. If the moon saw what he dreamt of, she would even have to stand and admire you. 

“I’m sorry,” Wukong muttered. “I’ll cease my mind of such impurities at once.” 

“No, that’s–I’m…” you shook your head. 

The notion of him thinking of you in that light was surprising, but to say you weren’t the slightest bit flattered was a lie. Nobody back in your world has ever taken a liking toward you. Yet, all of a sudden, possibly the strongest being in this set universe has a thing for you? You didn’t mind it at all. How many people could proudly say the sun Wukong was attracted to them? Not a lot! Granted, people back in your world would consider you insane, but still! what an exciting achievement!

That wasn’t the issue, though. 

“You could have brought me here long ago,” you said.

He made a roundtrip to and from heaven’s peach garden within a few minutes just to get you that immortal peach. The trip to the celestial court was unnecessary. He could have escorted you there in a week. Plus, the extended lifespan given to you by the immortal peach—after all the meddling with the celestial court, he must have known that you wouldn’t be allowed to leave this place with it, too.

“You don’t want me to leave,” you whispered. “You did this on purpose.”

Erlang clapped. “Very well deduced, mortal.”

“You!” You whipped your head over at his joyous demeanor, your nose scrunched and your eyes scratching up a fire, ready to burst through your lips. With hands curled into fists, you stomped over to the man with an accusing finger in the air. “You find this so amusing, don’t you?”

“Wait, don’t!” Wukong reached a hand out for you a second too late. 

“All you care about is your feud with Wukong, and you don’t notice how a single, stupid peach has disregarded all my effort to get here!” you exclaimed in Erlang’s face, frustrated tears rounding your eyes. “This is my livelihood! Do you understand that? I came to you for help, and you pawn my life for a moment of triumph against the monkey!”

“He’s not the terrible one. You are!” 

“Hey! Calm down–“ Wukong gripped your arm and pulled you behind him, shielding you as he stared at the three-eyed man stunned.

He wasn't sure how Erlang would react to your outburst, especially when you associated him with traits he despised. No mortal has ever been bold enough to speak to a God with such aggression, even when deeply angered. Watching the long-haired man like a hawk, ensuring he could catch even the faintest twitch of a finger, Wukong lowered his voice when he spoke for your sake.

“Erlang, they didn’t mean it." He blocked your whole figure behind him when Erlang looked up. "They’re very family-oriented and don't take any setbacks lightly.”

The God didn't speak for a while, and you almost took his silence as a sign that he felt disrespected. He should; you did disrespect him!

“No, I understand. I’ve also gone through quite the ordeal for my family,” Erlang muttered, though his eyes seemed lost in the clouds from your accusation.

Clearing his throat, he met your surprised eyes carefully and sighed. You were right. This didn't concern his relationship with Wukong. Even the monkey has enough heart to return to this damned place just to get you some help (disregarding the tricks he's done). He should be better than that.

“I will ask around to see if there is any way to send you home, but something must be done to take away the 3000 lives before you return.” 

You sniffed away the tears. “What do you suggest?”

“There are temples scattered across the path to the West. Each housing a Buddha with the power to take one’s soul. Travel to them and ask for their help,” Erlang said. “I don’t recommend too much at a time, as the ordeal is a mimicry of death. I don’t believe a Buddha would be willing to descend so much pain at once either.”

You closed your eyes. You anticipated that hurdle. “Thank you.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he replied. “I wish you luck. I wish both of us luck.”

With a light shove of his hand, a strong wind blew you off the cloudy ground, and you quickly fell toward the ground. Wukong hopped onto the nimbus cloud and chased after you, catching you swiftly in his arms.

“Let’s go find my master,” he muttered. “He should know what to do from here.”

“Okay,” you said. “3000 times, that’s a lot.” 

“I’m sorry for everything,” he said. 

You were upset with his decision, but logically, you also understood why he did it. If you fell in love and found out they would soon be leaving you, you’d do anything to delay the inevitable, too. The methods would be mundane for you because of the lack of magic in your world, but judging by that logic, feeding you an immortal peach was also mundane to Wukong.

“If there’s a way for me to die those 3000 times for you, I will,” he added. 

You bit your lower lip to hide the unexpected smirk. Perhaps part of you were relieved that you got to stay with him longer. Clutching his shirt in your hand, you leaned against his chest and watched the world pass you by.

“Wukong,” you called suddenly. There was something you wanted to ask him. 

“Yeah?”

“What exactly happens in your dreams about me?”

[tootiepatoot]

👍( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )

[tootiepatoot]

Aaaah, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you with all these asks, but I have to know this! How would Black Myth Wukong go with Dove in it, considering the story? Especially with what happened to the original Wukong and her potential interactions with the Destined One?

OOOOOOOH THIS ONE IS INTERESTING!! Also, don't ever apologise for giving me asks to answer, I love yapping so you're doing me a favour. Also I hope you know the vault of angst and depression you just opened

Ok so just letting you know, I have two different endings for PoM I may go with: a happy ending… and a less happy ending. Since I'm already feeling depressed, I'm gonna answer this as though the less happy ending is what happens. In it, Dove gains immortality (but for reasons I won't disclose yet) and is separated from everyone forever, including Wukong. He can't even try to save her because, well… spoilers.

I know the basics of the game lore so sorry if I get anything wrong/misunderstand anything, but this is how I think it'd go. Also, spoilers under the cut for Black Myth Wukong.

TW: Suicide

So from my understanding, the Destined One isn't technically Wukong, but he inherits his memories by the end of the game. With that in mind, I see this going similar to what I've seen of Wukong finding a reincarnated reader, but reversed.

Dove eventually escapes the place she is trapped in, but by the time she makes it back to Flower Fruit Mountain to find Sun Wukong… the worst has already happened. Erlang is the one who tells her how Sun Wukong ended his life, his final plan to free himself from the Heaven's grasp.

Before being separated, Dove had already learned some hard truths from Guan Yin about events concerning her past. Learning about what her master had been keeping secret from her, and then the relief of seeing her love again being crushed by the reality of his suicide, it breaks her. She had spent years fighting to get back to her Peaches, to the one that she could always depend on. He was with her when she learned about Guan Yin's secrets, they had to drag him away from her the day they were separated– it hits her then, the last moment she ever saw him was when he was in pain, clawing at demons that pulled him further away from her. The last she ever saw of those beautiful sunset eyes… they were filled in anguish and rage.

After learning of Sun Wukong's fate, Dove grows bitter and cold. She doesn't return to Potalaka Mountain– she can't stand to be in the presence of any of the deities anymore, not even the one who raised her. Who lied to her. Moksa checks in on her every now and then, from a distance, she won't talk to him either. It's a pitiful sight, how she becomes a shell of her former self. Dove cuts contact with nearly everyone and travels the road on her own, helping people where she can, but no task she does is ever enough to distract her from that emptiness that takes root inside. It's painful, and no matter how hard she tries, that pain won't go away.

Then, by chance, she comes across a monkey demon.

Confusion is the first word that comes to mind when describing her reaction to seeing the Destined One for the first time. Maybe her mind is just playing tricks on her again… but this doesn't feel like she's seeing things. He feels real. Dove has already gone through the emotional ups and downs of meeting a reincarnated loved one before, but this is different. It's different because it's Sun Wukong. There has never been another like him.

She does suppose the same holds true once she spends more time with the Destined One, he isn't like Sun Wukong. He's more… stoic. He doesn't say much, and compared to the talkative Monkey King, it's a little unnerving at first. Is this really the person she loves? It's a question she struggles with as she goes through the game with him, helping him. Travelling with the Destined One, it's almost reminiscent of the original journey. That's what Dove tells herself, anyway.

Whether or not it really is him, it's safe to say any reincarnated/reborn Monkey King would be falling for Dove pretty hard. I'm still figuring out how the Destined One would be around her at first, maybe he's a little put off by this strange immortal woman who decided to tag along with him. She's helpful, so he doesn't mind the company, but that doesn't stop him from wondering why she's with him. Maybe there's one night where she's helping him recover from a serious fight, probably scolding him for something reckless he did as she works her magic and all he can do is frown. Why does she care so much about him?

Whether he can understand her motives or not, he does appreciate it. Having another person to face these hardships with, someone who has his back through the toughest battles and his lowest moments, he's never had that before. Or maybe, it's just something he's missed. It's strange, how she is able to comfort him. Not just because of her tranquil power, it isn't necessarily her calming aura that puts his mind to rest… there's something deeper, something that tugs at his chest and pulls him to her. This longing to be near her.

He wants to know more, ask why she's so intent on helping him, but Dove is good at avoiding questions, she's constantly guarded around him. The Destined One likely wouldn't pry as much as Wukong would in this situation, but his curiosity still kills him inside. Instead of getting his answers from her, he starts finding the answers in his head, with educated guesses. Maybe Dove was just so awe-struck by his handsomeness that she decided to help him in any way she can, on the spot. He liked that theory 😏

As their journey continues, they do warm up to each other more. Maybe they pass through a village in the midst of a celebration and Dove manages to convince the Destined One to dance with her. Sun Wukong did the same for her all those years ago. Maybe one night after setting up camp for the night, the Destined One begins to comb through her hair, not thinking too much of it since it's normal for other monkeys to preen through one another's hair, it's a show of his affection.

Dove is usually so guarded, but in that moment her walls come crumbling down. She tries to push down her silent sobs, but it's difficult. Sun Wukong was the last person to go through her hair like this, and the simple action brings back so many fond memories. When he realises she's crying, he stops but she grabs his hand before he can fully pull away.

"Don't stop, please. It's okay, I'm… I'm okay."

Maybe he pulls her close after that, holding her in his arms as she does the same. There's so much pain in her heart, and all he wants is to take it away. The only question is, how?

By the end of the game where the Destined One gains all of Wukong's memories, so many of Dove's actions become clear to him. She can see in his eyes when he looks at her, a new hint recognition in his features as she realises who she really is, who she was to Sun Wukong.

Even by this point, Dove is conflicted over her feelings for the Destined One. She's come to love him throughout their journey, but is it the same love? Or is there some part of her brain convincing her it has to be the same, that this is the same man she fell in love with. Does she love this new Monkey King, or the memory he represents?

If one thing is for certain, the Destined One is confident in his feelings for her. Even before receiving those memories, he had been falling for Dove with every moment they spent together. If anything, these memories only make his love for her stronger, knowing what they've been through in a past life, how she stayed by him through this new journey because of their past.

…But he can't be sure whether she feels the same. Not when he still doesn't know if he is Sun Wukong, or just holds his memories now. It's something they'd have to work through and figure out together, but one thing is for certain. Dove doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

[tootiepatoot]

Sun Wukong/The destined one (mostly relationship) headcanons!

The people have spoken and the people crave monkey business. So let's get down to it!

❤

Post journey Wukong is a wiser, stronger monkey, but don't let him fool you he's still a trickster at heart.

When you first meet, he has you refer to him as 'Great Sage'.

Earning the right to say his given name isn't so much a big moment as it is just him beginning to care for you. You slip up, whether it be because you were sick or injured or just not thinking, and he doesn't correct you. In fact he kind of likes it.

He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but if you watch closely you can see his tail twitch and his eyes lost in thought.

One character flaw you'll have to deal with, even when you're just friends, is Wukong thinks he knows what's best. He's old and wisened and POWERFUL; if he thinks he knows something will be best for you, he'll do it without so much as telling you.

Credit to Hanibalistic! Their one shot about Wukong and stealing an immortal peach for a mortal reader was perfect and exactly how I think he'd act! That impulsive, "I care about this person and will do what I think is best for them regardless of the consequences or their opinion" is very... him.

Hey, we all have our flaws. (Just don't tell him that.)

On the positive side, he wouldn't let a scratch befall you. At some point you'll stop instinctually defending yourself because of how safe you feel with him. Which is heavily ironic considering how often he himself will put you in dangerous situations just to pull a prank.

But besides your poor heart from getting scared so often, you have nothing to worry about. Wukong won't leave room for even one mistake to slip by him.

Expect him to never call you by your name, almost ever. He chronically tends to call people by titles or nicknames. From calling the tang monk, master, or how he'd call Bajie 'idiot' for most of the book- just expect something. He'd only refer to you by name if he were really serious.

Something I personally find really funny that isn't represented in many medias with him is that he's OLD. He's old as hell and he knows it. In the book he'll often refer to basically everyone as 'nephew' or 'little brother' which is oddly endearing and also really funny.

I feel as though most people don't utilize how heavy he is- even in movies and stuff. His staff is like thousands of pounds! You aren't moving him unless he wants you to. God forbid you end up cuddling. Even while resting I never think he'd put his full weight on you, but you'd definitely be stuck.

Will never refuse to help you, but will tease you endlessly for needing it. "Helpless little thing aren't you?"

His love language is gift giving and acts of service.

He's impulsive with words, but look at how he treats you and you'll see how he cares.

Considering his connections, expect to have the world at your fingertips. He'll never leave you wanting, you'll always be satisfied. There is no gift beyond his reach. Just be careful what you ask for, because he WILL get it one way or another.

He is a king, a leader- it's basically second nature to be serviced, and that's why it's so important how he acts toward you. For you, he stays vigilant, ready to catch you if you fall or feed you when you're hungry. For you, he'll carry you in his arms if you're tired. For you he'd put himself in servitude.

Monkeys also show affection to one another by grabbing at each other for attention, and grooming one another's hair.

I don't think he'd have any trouble getting your attention, he's very vocal! So he'd focus more on your hair. Don't be surprised if he randomly starts combing through with his fingers or just playing with it. It's calming for him, and another form of affection.

You've changed him for the better... And for the worse. He happier, more content and occupied (which is good for everyone). BUT, should you ever disappear or get stolen from him he would surely devastate heaven and earth to get you back. The last thing anyone needs is another, more wrathful, Wukong rampage.

Expect to get shown off at every convenience! You're his king/queen and he'll make sure everyone knows it.

You have the BIGGEST wedding. And I think the best part would've been the Chuangmen, which is a wedding game tradition, usually meant for the groom to prove his loyalty, devotion, and desire to marry the bride by completing tests made by her bridesmaids. There are a ton of really interesting Chinese wedding traditions that I would recommend reading about, but with the sheer power of Wukong, these challenges in particular could've been absolutely ridiculous!

Wukong isn't jealous, no that would be ridiculous, he has nothing to fear. That by no means doesn't mean that he doesn't get offended on your behalf. He's gotten upset at not being greeted properly, there's no way in HELL he doesn't get pissed if someone were to flirt with you. They're lucky if all he does is kill them.

Feel free to make fun of him for not being able to swim. He'll absolutely make you regret it, but do it anyway it'll be funny.

Am I the only one that thinks he'd be great with kids? 🤚

Like COME ON- the dude probably helps take care of the baby monkeys on his mountain. He tells them cool stories to get them riled up. Will lay down and let them play with his hair while you read or sing to him.

Give this man kids I dare you.

That's a topic for a different post 😌

Likes kissing you on the top of the head, will also lay his forehead against yours just to be close to you.

These two designs I really like for him! Y'all let me know in the comments which version is your favorite <3

💙

The destined one may look like Wukong, but they're certainly different in... most areas.

Being selectively mute makes things a good share more difficult to communicate with him than Wukong, but it has it's charms.

You'd just been... tagging along with him. He didn't mind, unlike the wolves and undead he'd been beating through, you proved no threat to him.

He figured you would just leave on your own- or die. But by some miracle even he didn't understand, you stuck by him through rain and dust storms alike. By the time you made it to the New West he felt obligated to keep you around.

For the first time since you started following him, you were actually in danger. And to both of your surprises, he dropped what he was doing to protect you.

Don't bother asking him why. Whether you do, or simply tell him thank you, he'll just wave you off. But you notice him walking closer to you than normal after that. No longer were you left to catch up with him while he sprinted off; he'd keep stride with you now, glancing at you every now and then.

He CAN talk, and he probably surprises you the first time he does. It's not even for something important. It's just one fateful night where you happen to decide to mess with his hair. You'd pull away after a moment and he'd rumble out a little, "Don't stop."

Now that you KNOW he can talk, it's even more annoying when he refuses to answer you.

He finds it amusing when you get frustrated with him about it. He can't help it. The whole time you're grumbling or ranting at him, he's just staring at you with his stoic face... thinking about how cute you are.

Feel free to give him a name. Not like he'll argue with whatever you pick-

But really, please call him something other than "the destined one". He'd never really needed a name before, but he'd treasure whatever you decide to call him.

He probably has a nickname for you too, he just only says it in his head...

Will click his tongue at you to get your attention. (Absolutely does the 'tsk tsk tsk' thing people do to call their cats)

Speaking of getting your attention- ^ remember how monkeys show affection by just kind of grabbing each other and squeezing and pressing their head against each other?

Yeeeeah. He's a touchy monkey. He won't ask for affection, so he kind of just does it himself. Will rub his head on you, not unlike how cats or rabbits do to mark things they like. Except he's just doing it to be affectionate.

Gets cuteness aggression and WILL just grab you.

If it wasn't obvious, his love languages are physical touch and quality time.

Doesn't need help putting armor on, but if you want to help he won't stop you. (The closeness makes his heart beat fast)

If you were ever both in a bad spot- being threatened and not in a place to put up a good fight, he'd cover your body with his and bare his fangs at whatever was trying to hurt you guys to intimidate it. (It probably wouldn't work- but it's an instinctual response.)

If your feet got cold in the snow in the New West he'd pick you up and let you rest on his back for awhile.

Likes when you rely on him like that, it makes him feel stronger. And besides it just "being his destiny", knowing you'll get hurt if he loses helps him focus during fights.

Terribly jealous individual.

The glare he would give someone is straight up deadly. Watch out for how his tail flicks around when he's irritated too 🤭.

Absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it could bring him out of a coma fr.

Doesn't mind being little or big spoon, he just likes cuddling. Wraps his tail around you when you do.

Always always makes sure you eat before he does, even though he's the one doing all the fighting.

Will let you win play fights (most of the time).

Hearing him laugh is the cutest thing ever I swear- It probably took you off guard the first time you manage it.

Doesn't know how to take compliments.

Probably short circuited the first time you complimented his appearance.

Very gentle, slow kisser. Likes having you in his lap, but will grab cheeky kisses every now and then too. Will tilt your chin up when you kiss, every time.

Art by @marcu-bug

[tootiepatoot]

[tootiepatoot]

i can't keep living like this!!! [does not change a single aspect of my life]

[tootiepatoot]

So… saying Dove is a little antsy to find Wukong and get out of Red Boy's cave may be an understatement.

With many of Red Boy's men injured, it takes about a full day to clear the rubble blocking the entrance. Having nothing to do but wait only drives Dove mad with worry. The second enough is cleared for her to leave, she says goodbye to Red Boy and goes. They do have a little talk first about maybe finding different methods to controlling the Samadhi Fire, or at the very least controlling his temper so something like this doesn't happen again.

She'd stay to help him if she could, but in the moment, all she can think about is finding out what happened to Sun Wukong.

Dove Masterlist:

Oh

There’s a space through the blockage. Too small for a person but just enough for your dove form, and that’s all you need. With nothing else keeping you here, you make your way to the entrance, Red Boy following from behind.

“Take care, Red Boy.” You give the boy a smile once you reach the entrance.

The kid doesn’t look up at you, his eyes focused on the ground in front of his feet. “Are you sure you can’t stay?”

A quiet huff of air escapes from your lips, strings pull at your heart as you watch the boy. If only you do more for him, but that just isn’t possible. You can’t put off returning to your friends any longer, and you have to figure out what happened to Sun Wukong. The thought of having Red Boy join you did cross your mind, he certainly would be helpful if he could learn to control the Samadhi Fire. But if you’re able to find Wukong and others, there’s no way they would want him to join. Not after, well, everything.

Still, he needs better guidance than what is here for him in this cave. You just aren’t able to be the one to do it. “My friends are waiting, and I need to know what happened to Sun Wukong.” You crouch down and rest a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that fight, try to take it easy from now on, okay? Try putting an end to all that eating-people thing.”

“…I’ll think about it.” He groans. A little worrying, but you feel as though that’s as good of an answer as you’re going to get.

Standing back up, you pat the boy on the head, ruffling his hair a bit. “Goodbye, Red Boy.”

He grunts in response, and with that, you take flight and squeeze through the opening amidst the rubble. The land before you once you emerge from the cave is a depressing sight. The water seems to have gone down a bit, but the ground alongside it is a muddy mess. Forgotten arrows and blood-stained weapons stick out from the ground and mountainside, scattered across the battlefield. Some trees have fallen over, others that still stand have burnt branches and scorched trunks.

You don’t spend much time taking in the aftermath of the battle, determined to get moving as quickly as possible. Sun Wukong must have drifted downstream, so that’s where you have to go. With any luck, you might run into the rest of the pilgrims on your search. This is the same direction Tripitaka went to find Pigsy and Sandy, after all.

Staying close to the river, the trek down the mountain is quiet, oddly so. Not a single animal crosses your path, there are no birds in the sky nor is there a single buzz of an insect. It might have worried you if not for your thoughts focused on one thing and one thing only.

Your eyes constantly scope out the surrounding area for hours, looking for any trace of Sun Wukong. It’s like you can still see him falling into the river, that moment playing in your mind over and over. Never did you think you’d ever see him like that, like he could actually be… no, he isn’t.

Come on, this is Sun Wukong you’re thinking about. He’s the Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven! Maybe that hit only surprised him. After all, nothing can hurt him. At least, not physically. You hope so.

Dammit! Your thoughts are getting the better of you. How can they not? If Wukong really was okay, why haven’t you seen him? Why didn’t he get out of the water? The thought of finding his body washed up along the riverbed sends a shiver down your spine. What if he’s unresponsive? If you hold him up only for him to slump back like dead weight? If you try and feel for a pulse–

Before you can spiral any further, an odd scent disrupts your thoughts. Why… Why can you smell saltwater?

The ground begins to shake, and you quickly take dove form and fly up to a nearby tree. The roar of the river grows louder, even more so than during the thunderstorm. It’s coming from uphill, and when you look back, you see it isn’t the river growing louder.

A tidal wave crashes down the mountain, a massive wall of water falling downhill towards you. Smaller trees are knocked down by the rolling force and you quickly take off to a higher vantage point in the sky. The mass of water rushes past, drowning the surrounding land and rising exponentially.

Where did all of this come from? It isn’t slowing down, if anything, more water is coming, but the question of its origin eludes you. It smells like ocean water, but how did it get here? It’s encompassing the mountain at an impossible rate, the trees that still stand barely have a moment left in the air before the water rises to swallow them completely.

Damn, how are you meant to find anyone in this?! Who could be doing this? Did the dragon king’s army return? But they couldn’t have made it rain saltwater, there isn’t even any rain clouds overhead! But then who could be responsible? Who could turn an entire mountain into an ocean?

…Wait a moment.

You look out over the water, a hint of nostalgia flashing through your mind. It is almost like the Southern Sea, by Potalaka Mountain. It couldn’t be… surely, not.

As if you had the capacity to take in any more sudden events, a boy’s scream pierces through the sky. Was that Red Boy? You look out in the direction of the cry and notice three figures in the distance where you came from, by Red Boy’s cave. One of them is on a strange mass, the other two hovering just above on some kind of platform.

You fly over, as fast as you can. What could have happened now?! When you get closer, you’re able to recognise the figures and realise– oh, shit.

The figure sitting on the mass is Red Boy, and the thing he’s sitting on is a collection of swords??? How does that even happen?! What surprises you even more are the two figures in front of him on a lotus platform. Your fellow disciple, Moksa, and Guan Yin herself.

All one thousand of her arms are revealed, her gaze cold as she narrows her eyes at the demon boy before her. You’ve rarely seen that look from her, brows pinched together and her glare sharp enough to pierce metal. You only ever saw that expression when you got into serious trouble as a child.

She holds five golden bands up into the air before sending them towards Red Boy. Four bands fly to his wrists and ankles with the last one falling around his neck. “Listen to me well, child. Under normal circumstances, I would have given you the opportunity to surrender yourself without the constriction of the golden bands. However, you have made a mistake. Have your men release my disciple and I may spare you.”

Shit shit shit shit–

Pushing yourself to go faster, you fly towards the three to disarm the situation. You don’t have to get much closer before your master raises her head up and turns in your direction, Moksa quickly doing the same. “Squab?” She calls out to you as you approach.

Once you’re close enough, two of her arms pull you close into a tight embrace. “Thank goodness you’re safe, my child. Are you hurt?” She loosens her grip a bit once you change back to your human form and stand on the platform with her, but more of her smothering hands begin checking your face and arms, focusing on the wrappings on your arm while you try to speak.

“No– I mean, a little, but it’s alright! I’m okay.” You quickly pull your arm back, but before you can say much else, she wraps you in another hug.

“I was told what happened, I came as soon as I could.” She explains, finally letting you go and giving you the chance to breathe, her arms slowly fading with the reassurance of your safety.

With her check-up over with, you look back to the demon child sitting on the mass of swords. “Please, let Red Boy go. I have already resolved the problem, he let me leave without issue.”

Moksa shoots you a surprised look. “You did?”

“Yes!” Red Boy shouts out on your behalf, the poor boy on the verge of tears.

Guan Yin looks over to the demon child, and the swords vanish in an instant. Red Boy manages to catch himself with his fire cloud, quickly shooting your fellow disciple and master an irritated look while Moksa steps closer to you to give you a hug. “You had us worried, Sister. We were told that you were able to negotiate the freedom of the Tang Monk, but you were still trapped in the demon’s cave.” He explains with a frown, and you mirror the look. Who could have told them that?

“She isn’t in there!” Your head whips back when you hear his voice.

He’s there, crouched on his somersault cloud and looking back in the direction of the cave as he flies forward. “I went back to the brat’s home, but–”

He isn’t able to finish before you jump to him, tackling him into a hug. “Wukong!”

“WoOAHH–!” He lets out a shout as he loses his balance and falls back, sending the two of you crashing into the sea below.

The splash of salt water isn’t enough for you to let go, not until you notice your friend sinking deeper into the water like a rock. A hand grabs onto the back of your shirt as well as Wukong’s, Moksa pulling the two of you out of the water.

Wukong is quick to jump back onto his cloud, barely shaking off the water before taking you out of Moksa’s arms. “Dove, you’re okay!”

“Are you?!” You hold his arms in your own. He looks a little beat. From what’s exposed of his chest, you can see wrappings that go around his chest and back. “I saw you fall in the fight but you didn’t surface! I know you’re immortal but I thought you might have– I thought that…”

You pull him close, holding him tight in your arms. You let your head rest on his shoulder, that faint scent of peaches more comforting than you ever thought it could be. “You scared me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, stiff before returning the embrace. “You’re one to talk.” He chuckles, one arm wrapping around your back while the other cradles the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Usually, when it’s just Master that’s been taken, I can handle things with just my brothers and you.” He mumbles, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. “I had to bring an entire army and a bodhisattva for this! You are exhausting to rescue.”

“Me?! I negotiated Tripitaka’s freedom and my own after your first fight!” You release him from your hold with a laugh. To think you even spent so long worrying about this stupid monkey. “ You’re exhausted? I’ve been following the river for hours, terrified at the thought of finding your corpse washed up on its banks!”

“That doesn’t make any sense, I can’t die!” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at the thought.

“Explain all this, then!” You take the idiot by his lapels and pull his shirt down a bit to expose the wrappings, how badly was he hurt when he got hit??

You reach out to turn him around and check his back when he lets out a hiss. You retract your hand when he pulls back and shoots you with a look. “Sorry.”

“Wow, Sister, leave the injured man alone. Or at least wait for us to leave.” Moksa scolds with a smirk, and it only hits you now that you have an audience watching you pull your friend’s shirt down.

Guan Yin laughs softly under her breath, clearly amused despite your face growing more and more red. “I see that you really are alright.”

You nod, turning to face the bodhisattva while Wukong fixes his shirt. “Yes, Master. I apologise for any worry I may have caused with my absence.”

“Miss, you have a lot of friends with very violent tendencies.” Red Boy frowns, his arms crossed.

Before you can respond, Wukong put an arm over you and gives the boy a glare. “Says the one who was planning on eating her.”

“I didn’t want to eat her, just your master.” Red Boy scoffs. “I’m not so terrible as to do harm to the people that are nice to me.”

“Yeah, because locking them up is so much better.” Wukong bites back. “You’re lucky I didn’t swat you halfway across the continent!”

The boy laughs. “Like you could! Remind me, simian, who was the one that lost both fights?”

“You mean after you pulled those dirty tricks with the fire?!” He sneers, his cloud moving the two of you closer to the boy before you pull his arm back.

“Okay! Let’s all take a breath.” You hum, giving your friend a smile. “I think it’s about time we got back to the others, yeah?” Wukong looks over to you as you speak, the anger on his face receding before giving the demon boy one last glare.

“Yeah, you’re right.” When he looks back at you, he returns your smile.

Your master hums. “Give your companions my regards, I’m afraid I will have to stay back.” She glances over to Red Boy, who shrinks back a bit under her gaze. “There are some things I would like to discuss before returning home.”

With that, Sun Wukong scoops you into his arms. You let out a bit of a surprised noise when he does, and he takes off before you’re able to say a word. Hopefully, your master goes easy on the boy.

Soon it’s just you and Wukong soaring through the new sea, and you give the demon a worried frown. “Here, I can change back into a dove–”

“No, it’s alright.” He grunts, his eyes facing towards the horizon.

Your brows furrow, discomfort itching at your limbs. “But you’re hurt, I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

“Ha!” He grins, shaking his head as though you said something amusing. “I can still lift my staff just fine, and it weighs several tons more than you ever could.” Wukong looks down to you, noticing the worry on your face and frowning. He hums a bit as he looks back up, silence stretching for only a moment before he continues.

“I just… it’s been a long couple of days, and I want to.” He admits. “You’ve had me worried sick and, I don’t know– I feel better like this. Is that okay with you?”

Wukong looks back down to you, his eyes almost… you’re not sure what to call it. The look he shares with you, it’s soft, gentle. You’re taken aback a little by the sincerity in his voice, and even though you feel an immense relief to see him safe– to see him alive– you still feel your heart quicken its pace the longer you share this look with him. Perhaps it was because you haven’t had a peaceful moment with him in the last two days or so, but his red and golden eyes stun you in the moment. Those golden irises, they’ve always taken you a little by surprise.

Eventually, you remember he asked you a question, and turn away into his shoulder in hopes to hide the flushed red growing over your face. You’re not even sure why you can feel any heat in your cheeks. “Sure, Peaches, I don’t mind.”

“Peaches?” Your eyes go wide as he echoes the nickname.

Now you have a reason for your face turning red. “I mean, you are what you eat.” You mumble, as though any sort of reasoning could make this any less embarrassing. You didn’t mean to say any of that out loud! Gah, what is going on with you?!

He laughs a bit, clearly amused. “No, I like it! You’re right, I am what I eat.” His chuckle rumbles through his chest, and oddly enough, you can feel his heartbeat become a little faster. “Does this mean I get to call you Love-Do–”

“No.”

His laughter fills the air, and you can’t help but smile a little when you hear it. Knowing he’s safe, that he’s with you now, it feels as though a weight has lifted. You’ve never felt so afraid for him before, have such panic rush through you over the thought that he was in genuine danger. Hearing his laughter, you can’t help but feel this sense of relief, of joy.

Wukong sighs, and you feel his hold tighten just slightly. “I’m glad you’re safe, Dove.”

Your smile refusing to fade, you tuck your head into the crook of his neck and sigh. The scent of peaches is so calming. “I’m glad you’re safe too, Peaches.”

Sun Wukong giggles, and you grin. He sounds like he really likes that nickname, huh? Maybe it wouldn’t be so embarrassing to use it more, if it got that sort of reaction from him. Maybe not in front of the others, though.

~~~~

She called him Peaches. It’s… it’s cute. Sun Wukong didn’t expect that from her, though her embarrassment is making it all the better. With the stress of these past days, he nearly forgot how much he loves it when she gets all flustered like that. It’s just… he can’t think of any other way to describe it other than cute.

The sage can feel his heart racing but he tries his best to ignore it and play it cool. Damn, how does she do it? When she was gone, he was beyond stressed, and having her in his arms is so calming, yet his heart is going a mile a minute. How does she do this to him?

She’s the only one who ever can. It felt like some sort of magic, but not her usual magic. Not her gift, it was… it was something else. That ‘something else’ has been bugging the sage for some time now. He’s not sure when it started, but whenever he’s able to see that smile, when he caught a glimpse of her in the heat of battle– sometimes when she was the way she is now, all flustered– that something else prods at him.

Wukong looks down at her again, safe in his arms. He could stay like this forever, if he could. Her warmth encapsulates him, making his injury nothing more than a faded memory. It feels so right, so perfect, having Dove in his arms.

Her calming aura and that something else continues to pick away at him. It makes him feel light, and when it’s there he can’t help but smile and tighten his hold slightly. He doesn’t want this to slip away. What a nice feeling, this something else. “I’m glad you’re safe, Dove.”

She smiles before nuzzling her head into his neck, and the action is enough for Wukong to believe his heart might burst from his chest. He feels his face flush as she lets out a little sigh of content. The small sound is enough to make his chest constrict. “I’m glad you’re safe too, Peaches.”

The giggle that comes from him is completely involuntary, as though it’s an automatic reaction to her name for him. This woman… That something else, it’s almost eating away at him.

That something… else…

Oh. Oh, wait.

No… wait, no… oh.

Oh.

[tootiepatoot]

I wanted to play the game myself and told myself I could do it, thinking that I was ready. I was not. I'll be watching others play it cause I am in love with the beauty of it.

I'll love it from a safe distance.

[tootiepatoot]

Second Verse

Part 1

[tootiepatoot]

House of the Dragon (2022-) 2.03: "The Burning Mill" | 2.08: "The Queen Who Ever Was"