#jttw reference

[exploringwonders-mads]

Most underrated JttW reference in the whole show, but that’s just my opinion.

The writers could tell me they took this scene word for word straight from an English translation, and I’d believe them.

[yznerpoo]

No way...

This HAS to be based on the Peach of Immortality

SERIOUSLY LOOK AT HIS SKILL: "Heavenly fruit"

(I played CRK long ago. I just happened to see this update)

[benevolenterrancy]

The monster spurted a mouthful of water over the Tang Priest and shouted "Change!" Sanzang's real body was hidden away and he was turned into a striped tiger to their mortal eyes. All fled in terror except a handful of gallant generals who charged the tiger, hacking wildly with every kind of weapon. After a turmoil that continued until evening they finally caught the tiger, chained it, and put it in an iron cage.

[beastomato]

going west

[randomyougurt]

its pigsy!!!

our favorite chef of the hour

[karppie-art]

Old art again. Aaaagh

[ryversreality]

Wukong’s four generals in Ming Dynasty armor and kind of a ref sheet. I have some WIPS of Tang Dynasty Armor for them

I made these like 6 months ago? Roughly???

🟣 note: I put pre-burn just because I did not draw their scars/burns after Heaven’s Wrath.

lore/hc under the cut

When Heaven scorched Mt. Huaguo and Wukong was locked away, the residents of Mt. Huaguo were left severely injured and mostly defenseless. Especially the four generals, who had ruined the banquet alongside Wukong but were not facing the same consequences and still essentially had their asses whooped in the following battle.

The reputation of Mt. Huaguo was also damaged and making it prone to smaller scale attacks from both demons and mortals who managed to get through the Great Waterfall Curtain.

So, in order to restore their former glory and identity as a formidable force, they attempted to assimilate and mimic the outside’s militia (mostly through making similar armor and creating more similar structures). This also opened Mt. Huaguo to more influences later down the line.

This would also later benefit them as a safe haven for monkeys and pacifistic entities (who could handle the structure) from around the globe.

[lavaflowe]

The other Wukongs asked the true Gameboy master for help in beating a boss🙏 (1996 is absolutely crushing it)

[tuskstudioart]

Alright,that's it

*Colors your peach pit*

[passions-and-pupils]

For the consideration of SVSSS fans and JTTW fans alike

Questions? Additions? Concerns?

[itsabouttimex2]

Dude Tang sanzang really sound like a gentle but also....ya know-

and maybe we could get a fic of him?I kinda curious actually-

Taken Aboard

Yandere Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong

(I’ve noticed recently that I enjoy writing yandere introduction fics- them meeting you. The content is a bit softer, but I enjoy establishing these things!)

You don't really want the shiny little key, no matter how important it looks. You just know that it's important. Made from polished silver and ending in many prongs, with a large gemstone set into the bulb... it was clearly valuable.

But you don't want it. Not the silver, not the jewel. You want what comes with taking it- a chase. And if these people didn't want to play your games, why would they come into your forest?

They’re only at the very entrance of the forest, where the trees are thinnest, but it’s still a foolish expedition that they’re surmounting.

There's easier ways to get through the area, after all. The forest is thick with trees and sharp vines, running with many rivers and populated by thousands of different animals. Clearly, these strangers are in no rush and have supplies to spare if they're traveling directly through instead of around.

So what's the harm in one little game?

You’ve learned all the creatures in this forest by heart- their scents and sounds and shapes, each palm-sized critter and earth-shaking beast impossibly dear to your heart.

Your hands; diminutive and deft, shift from tight skin to soft feathers. And as nail curves to talon, the bones of your fingers slide around your palm until they’ve diminished from five to four. In a sudden. startling flash of golden light does the rest of your form fall away.

As the aureate rays that wrap your body burn away from your reducing frame, the new truth of your body becomes clear- you’ve taken the form of a diminutive songbird. Were it not for your green-flecked wings, you would be entirely indistinguishable as a demon by the eye alone.

There’s just enough wind filtering through the dense forest to aid your feathers, sending your small form skyward.

You gather speed by twisting around clustered branches and thick tree trunks, breaking through a canopy of foliage and soaring to the warm sky.

Wings close to your body, you zip overhead the group and unfurl them in what would be a grand display, had you a more imposing form.

Tucking your wings tight, you dive haphazardly, snatching the key from a very startled monk all dressed up in a fancy cossack with a jangly golden stick.

Prying the metal free from his fingers, you retreat to the denser woods, taking a moment to perch as he calls out indignantly for you to return.

But you don’t even have time to gloat to yourself before a multicolored hawk comes at you, red and blue and ginger feathering.

Barely you manage to dodge, watching the bird soar past. The wind left in it’s blazing wake is so fast that your feathers are nearly torn out by their quills.

It rounds sharply, lurching at you again, only missing when you drop from the branch and dip towards the ground. The hawk turns and dives, losing you as you loop a low-hanging branch. It curves the bend with you, only inches away. Through the leaves, it misses by a hairsbreadth, mistaking a browning leaf for your insignificant form. Over the river your shadows startle the koi, causing them to retreat to the muddy depths. All across and through the forest are you hounded, slowly falling closer to the talons of the glorious hawk.

And you finally slip, diving too slow to avoid the clutch of avian claws.

But cold keratin is not what cages you.

Furry fingers tightly enfold your fragile form, stuck fast between the palms of the Monkey King.

He drops from the sky with some measure of grace, tail swaying in glee born of victory.

Exhausted from the chase, you concede defeat in the form of birdsong, melodically peeping and chirping to the simian from the cage his hands form.

Sun Wukong pauses at your display of surrender. It’s not often that a demonic enemy accepts being beaten. He carefully opens his hands to view you- and, to his disbelief, you hop onto the pointer finger of his right hand, holding the little key in your beak.

“You’re a funny little demon, aren’t you? So cute, but so darn troublesome… here, give me that.”

You don’t protest or fight as he snatches the jeweled key, stuffing the metal into his pocket.

“Wukong! Wukong, don’t hurt them!” Says a worried voice from just a few paces away, clearly out of breath from running. “Wukong do not make me recite the… sutra?”

His voice trails away at the sight of you, cupped in the simian’s ginger-furred hands.

“…they aren’t running, Master. They just… gave me the key after I caught them.”

The monk approaches slowly, then takes you into his gentle hands, a note of pity in his contemplative eyes. One soft finger brushes against the green spots that speckle your quills.

“Demon, I kindly ask you- reveal to me your name and form.”

With a giggling peep, you do as asked and immediately return to your true form- in his palms.

Tang Sanzang gasps from the sudden shift in weight, pulled to the ground before he can right himself. You giggle again, sprawled half on his lap and half on the dirt. And Sun Wukong laughs too, enjoying a moment of indignity from his oft-stoic master.

There’s a flash of irritation that fades the second the monk gets a good look at you- gods, you’re only a child. And so thoroughly ragged too. Mud and leaves in your never-cut hair, your fingernails chipped and uneven. Shredded clothing and no shoes.

“Have you been out here long, little one? In the forest, all on your lonesome?” Pity in his voice, compassion in his eyes. “When was the last time you had a meal? A drink? Come, quench yourself with my canteen,” he commands, lifting the fur-wrapped metal to your lips.

“They’re not a baby,” Wukong argues, tapping one clawed finger against your nose. “And don’t act like they’re harmless, Master.”

You pull away from the canteen after a long sip, sticking your tongue out at him. “No one asked you, Hóutóu!”

“Are you getting cheeky with Sun Yéyé? Maybe I should chase you all around your own home again, brat!”

Tang Sanzang sighs, not cutting into the squabble. Petty arguing was better than outright violence, and neither of you seemed all too serious about the verbal spat.

All he can really do is change the subject.

“I can hardly leave a little one all alone out here- even in the forest, it must grow cold at night. Come, you may rest in my tent when the sun falls. Then we shall find your parents, and-“

“Nope!”

“…excuse me? ‘N-no’, little one? You mustn’t joke with me like that-“

“I’m not joking,” you cheerily and confidently respond. “This whole forest is my home! And I don’t have parents, anyways! I was born from a fallen peach tree!”

That didn’t sound… too implausible, honestly. Strange things gave birth to demons, after all. Rocks, in Wukong’s own case.

But, even if you were a demon born of nature and the wilds…

Wouldn’t it be horribly cruel to leave a child out here, all alone?

You were small enough to still fit in his lap, small enough that you only came to Wukong’s hip even when you stood on your toes.

A child. Gods, how could you have survived on your own for so long? Demon or not, you were a child. Gods above, he couldn’t leave you here.

It couldn’t be that you’d leave easily. You had just declared that this forest was your home. And with the powers and skills you had, simple force wouldn’t be enough.

He… had some praying to do. To Guanyin, and to another blessed length of golden metal.

You would not be staying here a night longer.

[miifu666]

" Even a spoiled egg like you couldn't be blessed with flesh and blood "

We all know Suklha is a humanoid anthropod. She's not exactly mammal nor human, she's a centipede. Her body is made out of exoskeleton and hemolymph, the same structure that any insects and anthropods are made out of.

In Black Myth Wukong, it is said that even as Sun Wukong died. His flesh and muscles were treated as delicacies by the celestials. Thinking it might bring them good fortune and share a bit of his power, yet it was a fruitless theory. Erlang Shen helped him faked his defeat, he heard the army of heaven's talking about how the Monkey's body was taken in by the celestial to be eaten.

But what if the one creature they discriminate the most was the only one who could grant those who eat them their power? The Rotten Egg that the jade emperor is so spiteful of, is also the answer to his greed of power. For if you eat Suklha, you can have a shred of her power. Why did you think the Underworld kept her body in their archive? Why did you think the Underworld hid the secret weapon that can harm her?

Its all constructed from Suklha's dismembered self.

She may have thought the heavens wont bother to gather her trails, they'd treat them with the utmost biohazard. But the underworld is smarter than that. they've met more rotten spirits than her. They know even the most sinful of man has its uses. In a desperate act of protecting humanity, they tinker with a part of her. Something they got from creating a contract, in exchange, the Yama of the underworld would do his best to keep her vessel out of heaven's reach. Unfortunately, Suklha never disclosed the reason as to why. She always points out how prejudice the heavens are towards her.

" —To have spoken my name with such scurrilius words. Shall you believe they would care such vessel even after my end? Avoid being imprudent, dear sir"

" Perspicacious thing, cleave your rotten self and Bestow us your ribs. Then, shall your body be encased amongst us"

Even as Yama agreed with a bit of price, Suklha split herself in half infront of him. Like a silky tofu divided pleasently with chopsticks, she rips out parts of her ribs, quickly regenerating it and giving it to the guardian. Theres not an ounce of regret as she left the underworld. Her lips shut as she met the Victorious fighting buddha, whispering words of affection to one another. Reliving their own oceanic moments. Whatever deal she made, it certainly went along her plan.

" Leave a little room for dessert, young Sage. One would feel delighted for such flesh sheathing mine heart "

Artwork ©️ Miifu666

Writings ©️ Miifu666

[localcryptidsteg]

Black Myth Wukong and the legacy of the Monkey King

In the game, you play as just a random monkey, but you have most of Sun Wukong's powers. This led to a friend of mine asking the question: "Is this just a reincarnation of Sun Wukong?" The discussion that followed leads me to conclude that, despite looking like him and smelling like him according to most bosses, we are not playing a reincarnation. This is just a descendant.

For clarification, everything we see The Destined One do is something Wukong learned from someone else in the first place. Aside from the way we respawn after being defeated, we dont have any of the inherent strength, power, or defenses of Wukong back when he was just Shihou. We learn and develop even the most basic abilities as we go down the skill trees. Magic, while something we can do, is something we are only ever given or taught by side characters. We only gain Wukong's unique abilities as we collect the relics he left behind.

Which leads to this question: if we are merely following in Wukongs footsteps, could anyone at any time have done the same? Would they even have to be a monkey demon to pull it off?

Logically from the standpoint of a game, the answer is yes. ANYONE could learn do do what Sun Wukong does. They could have given us the option to pick any monkey out of the group and that monkey would be able to complete the journey so long as we ourselves can.

But it gets interesting from a mythos standpoint when the question is posed. Based on the worldbuilding laid down by both Journey to the West and Black Myth Wukong, does the answer change? Or does it remain a yes no matter what?

The Six Eared Macaque couldn't truly become Sun Wukong when he tried, but what was the real factor that determined that outcome? Was he simply not as strong in the end? But then why would there be such an emphasis on the two monkeys being a perfectly even match? Was it because he wasn't taught the things Wukong was? He still mimicked them without detriment. Or was it due to outside interference? It was ultimately Buddha revealing his identity that allowed Wukong to kill him, after all.

And if Wukong had died, would The Six Eared Macaque have successfully been able to become Sun Wukong? The implications of Black Myth Wukong suggest this might be the case. Does that mean the theory that the macaque actually switched places and killed Wukong now retroactively holds water, at least in terms of Black Myth Wukong? Or is it simply that the game may have drawn some inspiration from the theory?

Is Sun Wukong the strongest because he's Sun Wukong, or is he Sun Wukong because he's the strongest?

Just food for thought, and an interesting topic if nothing else.

[sketching-shark]

Having a blast with 1996 Sun Wukong so far <3

[randomyougurt]

the team therapist Sandy!!

[journeytothewestresearch]

Fun JTTW Text Reference for Artists

I've written at length about Sun Wukong's golden headband (here, here, here, and here). Anyone who has read the novel will know that it is used to rein in Monkey's unruly behavior through the application of pain. Such events have been portrayed by artists like Chen Huiguan in his Newly Illustrated and Complete Journey to the West (Chen Huiguan Xinhui Quanben Xiyouji, 陈惠冠新绘全本西游记, 2001) and Tianwaitang in his piece Tripitaka's Curse (2010).

But I've never seen someone depict the instance with the greatest potential for an everlasting visual impact. In chapter 27, Tripitaka angrily recites the tightening spell 20 times to punish Monkey for killing what he thought was an innocent woman (it wasn't). This causes our hero's head to deform like a cartoon character!

The sight so frightened the Tang Monk that he fell from his horse. Lying on the road, he did not speak another word except to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell back and forth exactly twenty times. Alas, poor Pilgrim's head was reduced to an hourglass-shaped gourd! As the pain was truly unbearable, he had to roll up to the Tang Monk and plead, "Master, please don't recite anymore. Say what you have to say" (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 23) 唐僧一見，驚下馬來，睡在路傍，更無二話，只是把緊箍兒咒顛倒足足念了二十遍。可憐把個行者頭勒得似個亞腰兒葫蘆，十分疼痛難忍，滾將來哀告道：「師父莫念了，有甚話說了罷。」

The original Chinese lists the "double-waisted" calabash gourd (yayao'er hulu, 亞腰兒葫蘆). I hope this gives artists an idea of what Wukong's head would look like.

I've previously noted how the novel describes Sun Wukong as an actual monkey, and it's because of this that the headband would likely rest on his eye orbits. I imagine his head being squeezed into the shape of a calabash gourd would make his eyes comically (or grotesquely) bulge, too.