Going on a little hiatus to get some work done but I’ve queued up a Bunch of dumb thoughts of mine to keep everyone company

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@superkat500
Going on a little hiatus to get some work done but I’ve queued up a Bunch of dumb thoughts of mine to keep everyone company
Imagining Sanzang’s mother sending flowers down the same river she gave her son to every year on his birthday
*sobbing*
Buddha of Sandalwood Merrit called that Not because of his strife or his cleansing energy, but because he is known on occasion to climb a sandalwood tree and, as he would in his life as the Golden Cicada, scream at the top of his lungs
AAAAAAA
AAAAAAA
Buddha of Sandalwood Merrit called that Not because of his strife or his cleansing energy, but because he is known on occasion to climb a sandalwood tree and, as he would in his life as the Golden Cicada, scream at the top of his lungs
I’ve made a couple of posts talking abt the allegorical meanings behind random things in Journey to the West that got way more attention than I expected
Is that smth we want? Should I post little analysis on each chapter/the characters as a whole?
I have no soul and I must scream.
it’s a publicity stunt the ‘monk’s’ abbot said himself he just wants kids to be interested in Buddhism, no one thinks a robot can achieve enlightenment
IT IS A SERIES OF NOWS 🧘
Idk if this is something most people know but it’s kinda sorta implied that Sandy was actually trying to get his boss assassinated. That’s what the whole cup deal is.
I WAS WRONG
(Maybe)
ok ok there’s this trope in Chinese literature called 摔杯力号, which kinda sorta translates to “broken cup assassination”, which is basically when a Very Hated Leader finally realizes he sucks, at that exact moment a member of his house staff will signal that the leader is alone and vulnerable by way of breaking a cup. Which is all a reference to the attempted assassination of Liu Bang (who would later go on to found the Han Dynasty) in about 200BC
But the trope itself was only popularized in the 14th century, by the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and Journey to the West (even if the book was written in the 16th century) is a story at least as old as the 13th century around the Yuan Dynasty. So at least in early versions of the telling, Sandy probably wasn’t staging a revolution.
I read the chapter again and Sandy does outright say that what he did was an accident, so it’s likely that Cheng’en ‘s version of Sandy isn’t intended to be a would-be revolutionary, but there are plenty of retellings where he So Definitely was (my favorite being the Hindu versions of the story, the only thing Hindus hate more than cannibalism is Daoists so I think Sandy being ready to kill his Daoist boss was probably added to make him more likeable ngl)
Anyway I remembered all of this because of @antidotefortheawkward-art’s post here that spiffs off of the broken cup assassination trope. Check out their comics they’re hilarious!
Imagining Sanzang’s mother sending flowers down the same river she gave her son to every year on his birthday
ahahah what a cool headcanon. can you move a little closer to your window it’s hard to aim from here
/silly
Mom they’re trying to kill me on tumblr
Tiny Baby Wukong Fic Part 1: Transformation
Wukong landed the final blow on the demon, and the corpse crumpled to the floor.
“Alrighty then!” He turned to where his Master, Bajie and Wujing were trapped in a separate chamber of the cave. The bars of their cell were made of limestone columns which the demon had grown for the sole purpose of imprisoning them. Apparently he was a great master of transformative magic.
Wukong shattered the rock pillars with a single stroke of his rod.
“Thank you, Pilgrim,” Master stepped out and gave him a hug, burying wet eyes in fur, “I was frightened, for a moment, that we would never get free.”
“Hey, hey, you know you can count on me.” Wukong nuzzled up against his Master's clavicle. After a few moments he looked around at his brothers, “You alright, Wujing?”
“Yes, Elder Brother.” Wujing put his big heavy hand down on Wukong's head and ruffled him up a little.
“Aren’t you going to ask if I'm okay, big brother?”
“Fuck off, Bajie.” Wukong replied happily, still hugging Master and letting Wujing muss up his hair.
“Hmph,” Bajie huffed and brushed some stone dust off his rake. He’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to break the limestone columns while they were trapped, “Just so you know, I loosened up a lot of those rocks for you.”
“Please,” Wukong rolled his eyes, “You know you would have been helpless without me. Okay, everybody, let's get out of this place.” He wriggled out of his Master’s arms.
“The horse—” Master worried.
“Waiting outside. Come on, I don't wanna stick around to find out if this guy's got minions,” Wukong walking him over to the mouth of the cave, “Come on Wujing! Move your ass, Bajie!”
He made a great show of waiting for his Master and brothers to leave the cave before he followed them.
“Alright let's see,” He paused in the threshold to facetiously survey the others, “Yep, looks like we’ve got everyone.”
Master gave him an unamused frown. And then, very suddenly, his expression changed to one of abject terror.
“PILGRIM!” He yelled, “BEHIND—”
Wukong spun around, just in time to get hit full in the face by a blast of blinding light.
—
Pilgrim’s clothes dropped to the floor. One moment Sun Wukong had been right there, the next he seemed to have completely vanished.
Tripitaka screamed.
Bajie screamed too, although it was more of an enraged bellow than Tripitaka’s high-pitched cry, and charged at the demon, who was staggering to his feet. Before he could right himself, Bajie had slammed into the monster and stomped all over him and pulverised him with his rake. The demon died properly, the corpse vanishing like an illusion and leaving behind what seemed to be just a dead octopus.
Tripitaka dashed forward to where Wukong’s clothes lay in a heap.
He fell to his knees.
“No!” He blubbered helplessly, grabbing and shaking the old shirt he had once gifted his disciple, “No, no, no, no, Pilgrim! PILGRIM!!!”
But something wriggled within the fabric, and began squeaking wildly. Tripitaka gasped and carefully put the shirt down. He pushed back his sleeve and reached in to extract the small, thrashing lump. It latched onto his arm with tiny, strong fingers and a small, trembling body.
Tripitaka pulled out… Sun Wukong?
It certainly was Sun Wukong. His eyes were still like burning embers, and he still had the circlet fixed around his head, but…
Well, for starters, he measured only a little less than the length of Tripitaka’s forearm and was far skinnier. And he hadn't just shrunk. His fur was darker on the top of the head, and a lot less thick and grown in than it had been. His eyes and ears looked too big for his little face, too. And he seemed completely out of it, still squeaking and squawking, more like a baby bird than anything else. He squeezed his eyes shut and climbed a little further up Tripitaka’s arm, still crying, until he grabbed ahold of the tip of his thumb with his miniscule hands and put his whole mouth around it. Here, he settled.
“...Pilgrim?” Tripitaka ventured.
Wukong’s big eyes snapped open. The little monkey jolted, and thankfully got his mouth off of Tripitaka's thumb. His whole tiny body began tremoring as he met Tripitaka’s gaze.
“Master?” He squeaked, “What's happening to me?!”
Tripitaka was vaguely aware of his two younger disciples crowding behind him to look.
“Elder Brother,” Wujing said, “You’re… you're a baby!”
He was right. Wukong, at this moment, most closely resembled an infant monkey.
Wukong blinked and lifted a tiny paw to look at it. He then looked down at his scant, fuzzy fur, then back up at the others.
“Why the hell am I a baby?” He asked bewildered.
“That demon hit you with some sorta transformation spell.” Bajie said.
“Could stand to turn me into something less embarrassing,” Wukong scowled, “Guess I'll just transform back, then.”
He let go of Tripitaka's arm and dropped to the ground. It was only a short distance to fall, but he landed clumsily with all his limbs splayed out and gave a little squeaky “Oof!”
Tripitaka valiantly refrained from scooping him right back up and checking him over for injuries.
Wukong got up and shook himself. He prepared to shapeshift, and for a moment he seemed to blur with forms and then—
“YIPE!” Wukong gave an ear-splitting yelp, reverted back to his infant form and curled up whimpering.
“Pilgrim!” Tripitaka went to pick him up, but Wukong snarled and snapped his teeth at his fingers. He seemed to come to senses a moment later.
“Fuck!” Wukong cried.
It was strange to hear such a tiny, squeaky creature use such language. Bajie burst out laughing despite the fraught situation.
“What are you laughing at?!” Wukong snapped, and Bajie hid his face behind his hand.
“Nothing.” He said, through a poorly suppressed chuckle.
Wukong gritted his teeth and got up.
“I must’ve made a mistake or something,” He said, “I’m going to try again.”
“No—!” Tripitaka began, but Wukong had already attempted a shapeshift, and was already screaming. He tried a few more times, appearing to try different forms, but nothing worked, and everything seemed to hurt terribly.
Wukong panicked. He tried to grow, then shrink, then clone himself, then fly, then cast a few definitely malicious spells on Bajie, then pull out his staff, and each time it failed and he shrieked through a fresh wave of pain. After trying all these things he flopped down on the ground, screaming over and over and over again.
Tripitaka couldn't watch this anymore. He pulled the squealing infant into his arms and hugged him tight to his chest. His eyes blurred with tears. He pressed the tiny monkey close.
Wukong gripped the fold of Tripitaka's collar in one little paw, and clutched onto his cassock with his other three. His cries petered out, and he fell silent.
“Aww…” Bajie leaned in to look at the now fast asleep infant, “Little guy’s tuckered himself out.”
Tripitaka was suddenly aware of how fragile the infant clinging to him was. Wukong was so… spindly, and delicate, and he was still trembling even now when he was sleeping.
“He… he couldn't do any of his usual abilities,” Tripitaka said, still cupping Wukong’s body in his hands, though he was fairly sure that the little monkey would stay clinging to him if he let go, “What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?”
Both Bajie and Wujing were silent, an answer in itself.
“Then,” Tripitaka looked down at the sleeping infant, the little head tilted against his chest, eyes gently closed, “What do we do? We need to fix this. Somehow…”
Bajie and Wujing remained silent.
“We could wait to see if this lasts,” Wujing said finally, “Sometimes these things just wear off on their own.”
“Twenty-four hours,” Bajie nodded, “That should be enough time to tell. Give it a day, and if it doesn't change, we go looking for help.”
Tripitaka thought about the distress Wukong had been in before he had fallen asleep. He didn't want it to continue any more than it needed to.
“We should find help now,” He said, standing up, “Why should we wait a day when we could turn him back immediately?”
His two youngest (Or perhaps oldest, given Wukong’s circumstances) disciples shared a look.
“What’s wrong?” Tripitaka asked.
“I do not think Elder Brother would like it if we did that.” Wujing said quietly.
“Why not?”
“‘Cause it's embarrassing for him,” Bajie explained, “Said it himself. And if we ask anyone for help, chances are word will get around that the Great Sage Equal to Heaven got turned into a helpless baby. Heaven’s gossip circles would be fucking ruthless. So if there's a chance of it getting fixed on its own, he’d be real pissed that everyone had to know about it.”
“I see.” Tripitaka sat back down, and slowly lowered his hands. Sure enough, Wukong remained asleep, and didn't let go, “I suppose, then, all that we can do is wait.”
Imagining Sanzang’s mother sending flowers down the same river she gave her son to every year on his birthday
You asked for headcanons to draw so
- Sanzang being bowled over by Wukong’s Tibetan mastiff Daemon on the very first meeting, cos Wukong and her have *no* sense of the touch taboo.
- Sanzang’s brown mare daemon carrying the luggage of the pilgrimage while bajie’s cocker spaniel daemon nips her heels.
- the 金鹏大鸟 pinning wukongs daemon under one talon having yanked her out of him.
I’m gonna be so entirely for real with you I don’t think I understood this post at all but I Did Understand Tripitaka getting tackled by a Mastiff
Telling another woman you’re bulking is like enacting psychological warfare on her with intent to kill but telling a man you’re bulking gets them so excited and they immediately ask you if you’ve tried eating Raw Flour to meet your calorie goal
Big band music must be the most overwhelming thing in the world for an eridian
TikTok - Make Your Day
Fun fact: Mo's name in the Mandarin/Cantonese dubs is "Mao Mao" - a popular car name meaning either "fluffy/毛毛" or "kitty cat/猫猫"
So its likely Sha Wujing in your jttw au saw a huge man-eating tiger and thought "thats just a fluffy kitty-kitty!" <3
this is the best thing I read today
I think Modern!Tripitaka would be devastatingly good at shooter games