#Four Monkeys of Chaos

[journeytothewestresearch]

One question is if the six-eared macaque is a negative aspect of Sun Wukong's personality, that means that the other two mystical monkeys are also aspects of the personality except that unlike the Macaque, they are both positive aspects or simply part of Sun's personality. and the reason why they do not appear directly or are agonistic in jttw is because they do not go against the path of Buddhist enlightenment

Sorry if you don't understand, I don't speak English and I'm using a translator.

I've also speculated that the other two cestial primates are aspects of Sun Wukong's mind. An update to my Six Ears article reads:

I'm not really sure why the other two don't explicitly appear in the narrative. But I do know that, including Sun Wukong, the four celestial primates mirror the four kinds of monkeys and apes living on Flower-Fruit Mountain. As I write here, chapter one reads:

The Handsome Monkey King thus led a flock of gibbons [yuanhou, 猿猴], macaques [mihou, 獼猴], and horse-monkeys [mahou, 馬猴], some of whom were appointed by him as his officers and ministers (based on Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, p. 106). 美猴王領一群猿猴、獼猴、馬猴等，分派了君臣佐使。

The gibbons are also called "long-armed gibbons" (tongbei yuanhou, 通背猿猴; lit: "(arms)-through-the-back gibbons"). [1] (This refers to the belief that the long, agile arms of the gibbon were somehow connected (i.e. tongbi, 通臂), passing through the back (i.e. tongbei, 通背) (Gulik, 1967, p. 92-93).) The horse-monkeys are also called "red-buttocked horse-monkeys" (chikao mahou, 赤尻馬猴). [2] These terms are important to remember.

Here is the list of the four celestial primates:

Stone-Monkey of Numinous Wisdom (Lingming shihou, 靈明石猴) - i.e. Sun Wukong

Red-Buttocked Horse-Monkey (Chikao mahou, 赤尻馬猴) - The exact same kind as that mentioned above.

Long-Armed Gibbon (Tongbi yuanhou, 通臂猿猴; lit: "Connected Arms Gibbon") - As mentioned above, tongbi (通臂) and tongbei (通背) refer to the ape's long arms.

Six-Eared Macaque (Liu'er mihou, 六耳獼猴)

The apes and monkeys of Flower-Fruit Mountain and the Four Celestial Primates both include Sun Wukong (i.e. the Stone Monkey), Red-Buttocked Horse-Monkeys (Chikao mahou), Long-Armed Gibbons (Tongbei and Tongbi), and Macaques (mihou), one of which has Six Ears (Liu'er). Therefore, the two groups are practically the same.

Based on this, a person might suggest that if one celestial primate (Sun Wukong) is born on Flower-Fruit mountain, then others can be, too. This opens the door to all four of the celestial primates having been born (or at least manifesting) there. And since Six-Ears is an aspect of Monkey's mind, the missing two celestial apes could be as well.

I should note that Wukong's Four Might Commanders are two long-armed (tongbei) gibbons and two red-buttocked horse-monkeys. Someone could suggest that two of them make up the missing celestial primates. But they are never shown to have great powers, just knowledge about the world outside of Flower-Fruit Mountain.

In the end, though, the missing celestial primates may not appear simply because they are not important to the overall narrative.

Notes:

1) Yu (Wu & Yu, 2012) incorrectly translates tongbei yuanhou (通背猿猴) as "bare back monkey" (vol. 1, p. 131).

2) Yu (Wu & Yu, 2012) incorrectly translates this as "baboon" (vol. 1, p. 106). The horse-monkey was a nickname for the macaques placed in horse stables to keep away sickness (refer to here).

Sources:

Gulik, R. H. (1967). The Gibbon in China: An Essay in Chinese Animal Lore. Leiden: E.J. Brill.

Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

tuesday in the park (a.d.)

pairing: divorced!art x reader

synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.

warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk

notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.

Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.

Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…

And then suddenly… another pattern.

A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.

You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.

It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.” You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!

But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.

You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger—willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?” 

“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.

“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”

“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”

The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”

“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile.  And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”

“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.

“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.

The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”

“Come on, Daddy…” 

“No way.”

“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,

“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”

The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too. 

“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”

He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.

He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”

You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.

He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”

It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.

He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”

You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.

(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)

“Thanks, um…” he trails off. 

You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.

He nods. “I’m Art.”

He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,

“Nice to meet you, Art.”

He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved. 

“So what brings you out here?”

“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”

“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”

He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”

And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”

You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”

“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”

The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an interpreter.”

His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”

“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.

“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”

“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”

“But not today?”

You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”

“Fuck.”

“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.

Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”

You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”

He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”

“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”

Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.

You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”

But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.

Oh.

You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”

Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”

There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…

“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered. 

If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.

“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”

“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”

The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.

Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”

“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.

“Oh! Um…”

And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”

Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter,  “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.

“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”

“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.

The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”

You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”

He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.

Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.

“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.

“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.

His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.

“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”

“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”

She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.

[jkgnggj]

YES THEY DO !!

Saiki has their notifs on mute bc they're just spamming him messages or arguing between each other loll

thinking about how the pk psychic kids almost definitely have a group chat

[scribblesofagoonerr]

new year, new chaos | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: it's a brand new year and with it, there's a lot more chaos around the corner.

double the trouble masterlist

"Oh, bollocks..."

You stare at the pregnancy test in your hands, frozen in disbelief. The tiny bathroom suddenly feels too small, too hot, too much.

The newfound nausea that you've been plagued with for weeks? Well, that mystery's solved. But now your stomach churns for a completely different reason-- sheer panic.

"No, no, this cannot be happening. This can't be right, can it?" You mumble, pacing back and forth. The words on the digital test stare back at you, bold and unrelenting.

Pregnant.

"God, it was that damn stupid vodka," You whisper, eyes widening in realisation, "Oh, man. I'm never drinking again. Never. I swear."

A sharp knock on the door interrupts your spiral.

"Monkey?" Keira's voice rings out from the other side, "Is that you in there? What's taking so long? I need the bathroom!"

"Uh, fu... Just a sec!" You scramble, wrapping the test in layers of toilet paper like it's some incriminating piece of evidence and hide it behind your back, "I'm... I'm comin' out now." You yank the door open, flashing an unconvincing smile.

Keira takes one look at your pale, panicked face and frowns, "Geesh, you look a bit worse for wear. Did we party a bit too hard last night, eh?"

You shrug, trying to play it cool, "Uh, maybe, I guess so..."

"Wait a minute," The older girls' eyes narrow as realisation dawns, "You didn't drink last night, you were practically drinking J2O all night... Oh my God, Monkey! Are you--?"

"Shh!" You hiss, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the bathroom before slamming the door shut, "Okay, listen, I need to show-- Actually, no, I need to tell you something."

Keira arches an eyebrow, "Alright, hit me with it. What's going on?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, "I'm late."

"Late?" Keira repeats, confused, "Like for something? You should really keep a better track of the time..."

"No, late late. My period," You clarify, cheeks burning.

Keira's eyebrows shoot up, "How late?"

"Like... Four or five days," You admit, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand.

"Oh, that's not too bad. It could be nothing. It could just be stress--"

"It's not," You cut her off, sheepishly pulling the test out from behind her back and unravelling the tissue. The words "4 weeks pregnant" are still there, glaring at both of you.

Keira's jaw drops, "Fuckin' hell-- Are you... Are you serious?" She asks in a hushed tone of voice.

"I mean, unless this test is lying..." You trail off, shoving it back in the bin like you can make it disappear, "I need your help, Auntie Kei. My mums are gonna kill me."

Keira lets out a low whistle, shaking her head, "Wow. Okay. Uh... Right. First of all, breathe. Second, we'll figure this out."

You groan, sinking onto the toilet lid, "I'm so screwed, aren't I?"

"Well..." Keira smirks, "I'm not the one who has to tell Leah Williamson that she's gonna be a Nana before she's 30."

"You're not helping helping!" You snap, burying your face in your hands, "I... I don't know anything about babies! What if I drop it or something? And my career-- God, it's all over!"

Keira crouches in front of you, her tone softening, "Hey, relax, Monkey. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna figure this out, alright? You're not the first footballer to have a baby. Your career isn't over. And as for Leah..." She pauses, her smirk returning, "Well, good luck. But hey, I'm here for moral support."

You groan again, completely muffled behind your hands, "I'm dead. I'm completely dead."

“How did it happen?” Keira asks,  her voice a mixture of concern and curiosity.

You exhale shakily, glancing away for a moment before speaking, “The night we won against Bayern. Me and some of the other girls went out for drinks to celebrate…”

You vividly recall the night – Champions League group stages: Arsenal Vs. Bayern Munich.

“Be sensible, and don’t drink too much!” Leah warned you before you got into the Uber with some of the other girls, all of you heading to the club, “If you need me to pick you up, text me, alright?”

Leah had opted out of joining the team for the night, choosing instead a quiet evening at home with Buddy and the rest of her family. 

But you? You were feeling on top of the world. The win was secure, and the celebrations were already in full swing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be grand. I’ll see you in a bit!” You waved her off, climbing inside the Uber and flopping down on the seat beside Kyra, “Next top, we’re goin’ the club!”

You, Kyra, Laura, Alessia and Vic ended up staying out long after the others had left the club, swept up in the thrill of victory. You were high on adrenaline, letting loose after weeks of intense training in preparation for the game.

But now it was over, and you could celebrate. 

And damn, did you celebrate that night.

“Monkey!” Kyra’s voice called out from across the bar, “Ere’, go on an have another shot of this!”

You glanced over, shrugging and grabbed the shot. You throw it back in one go, grimacing instantly, “Er, that’s absolutely rank. What is it?” You ask, rubbing your throat.

“Vodka,” Vic grins, slapping you on the back, “Drink up, and I’ll get us another one!”

“Eh, why not?” You laughed, having too much of a great time to really take note of the effect of the alcohol in your system, “Ugh, it burns the back of my throat, but damn, that’s good. Next rounds on me!”

You remember how the drinks flowed freely that night, and laughter filled the air. For the first time in a long while, you felt completely at ease. The pressure of football, the endless expectations – Gone, at least for that night.

You lean back in your seat, remembering, “God, we were all so drunk. I barely even remember what happened after that.”

At some point during the night, you’d found yourself outside, leaning against the wall, drink in one hand, vape in the other. The buzz from the alcohol clouded your judgment.

And then he walked up.

You didn’t even catch his name, and as far as you were concerned, he was just another lad who’d joined the party – A friend smile and flirtatious wink, and before you knew it, you were talking, laughing, and then…

A kiss. Just one. That somehow led to more, a mix of adrenaline, vodka and whatever else that made you lose control.

It wasn’t planned, and it definitely wasn’t intentional. It just… happened.

Now, sitting here with Keira, the panic begins to settle in. All you can think about is that night – The stupid decision, the heat of the moment, how everything can change in an instant.

You grimace, suddenly remembering a faint detail from that night, “You wanna know the worst thing I found out?”

“What’s that?” Keira quirks an eyebrow.

“The lads’ a Spurs fan,” You mutter, pretending to gag at the thought of it, “I don’t know what I was even thinking goin’ there.”

Keira lets out a low chuckle, shaking her head in amusement, “Oh dear. I wish you good luck with that one then,” She teases, her tone light, though there’s an underlying sympathy.

You bury your face in your hands, groaning, “My mum’s gonna kill me alone on that, never mind the fact I’m pregnant.”

“I never realised how quiet it is around the house without the girls being here,” Elle remarks, swirling a glass of wine as she lounges on the sofa with Leah tucked up beside her, while Keira sits nearby, sharing a rare moment of calm.

Keira has decided to extend her visit for a few more days before heading back to Spain, stretches her legs out lazily, and nods in agreement.

“Monkey’s still here though, right?” Elle adds, glancing toward Leah.

Leah hums, sipping her drink, “She’s upstairs.”

“Oh yeah, but she’s watching Marvel. You won’t hear a peep out of her,” Keira chimes in.

“Enjoy the peace while it lasts, babe,” Leah jokes while leaning back into the cushions, knowing it won’t last long in the house.

“Indeed,” Keira chuckles, “It’s a rare thing when the double trouble duo are together” She states with a smirk.

However, the quiet doesn’t last long.

“Mum! Have you seen my iPad charger?” Your voice echoes from upstairs, “I can’t find it, and my iPad’s about to die!”

“And there’s the peace ruined. That was quicker than I anticipated it would be,” Leah groans, reaching for the remote to pause the show just as the doorbell rings, “Oh, and there’s the door– Chinese is here, Monks’!”

You would usually jump at the chance to eat Chinese food, but tonight, the smell wafting from the kitchen hits you wrong. The scent of the egg-fried rice turns to your stomach, making you feel queasy.

“Thanks,” Leah exchanged pleasantries with the takeaway driver, bringing the hot steaming food into the kitchen, “Monks’! Are you coming to eat?”

“She might have her headphones in,” Keira notes, walking into the kitchen.

Leah hums, beginning to open each one of the containers to dish everything up onto the plate, “She’d better hurry downstairs, or it’ll be cold,” She moves to grab the plates out of the cupboard, “Monkey! The Chinese is going to go cold if you don’t hurry up!”

“I’m ere’,” You mumble, the faint whiff of food instantly making your stomach churn, “Um, I’m not feelin’ all that well, I don’t want to eat that much…”

Leah frowns, looking at you suspiciously, “We ordered your favourite. What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know, I just not feelin’ well I guess,” You admit, shrugging your shoulders as you avoid her look, “I might just skip dinner if that’s alright? I don’t think I can eat much.”

“You do look a bit pale, Monkey,” Elle observes, concern flickering across her face.

“You haven’t eaten much all day,” Leah arches her eyebrow, dishing food onto a plate, “Just try and eat something, and if you can’t stomach it then that’s okay.”

“I don’t know if I can,” You look at the plate in hesitance, “I think I might just be comin’ down with something…” Your words trail off as the overwhelming smell finally sends you rushing to the bin.

“Whoa,” Leah is immediately alerted, abandonding the food and rubbing your back as you retch, “Easy, my girl. Take it easy.”

Keira grabs a glass out of the cupboard and fills up a glass with water “Here, Monkey,” She says, handing it to you, “Just take small sips, okay?”

You do as instructed, taking small sips of water until you start to feel better.

“There we go,” Leah murmurs, continuing to rub your back, “Do you feel better?”

You nod weakly, “I’ll feel better when I’m not near the food. It’s making me worse.”

“Wha… What’s going on?” Leah’s brow furrows, beginning to get suspicious, “You usually love Chinese food, and now all of a sudden it’s making you throw up. What gives?”

“I don’t know,” You mumble, avoiding her gaze, “I think I’m just unwell…” You try and avert out of the kitchen, but Leah’s quick to react and stop you.

“Not so fast,” Leah’s tone sharpens, and she crosses her arms, “Monkey, I know you. You’ve been acting differently lately. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“Don’t be mad,” You whisper, voice trembling.

Leah furrows her eyebrow, “Monkey…”

“Please, please don’t be mad…” You beg, somewhat fearful about the blonde’s reaction.

“Spit it out, Monkey,” Leah urges, her voice softening, “Whatever it is, we can handle it. You just need to tell me what’s going on.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, hesitant to speak, “I’m… I’m pregnant.”

“What?” Leah stares at you, stunned, “You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant,” You repeat, barely above a whisper.

Leah’s mouth opens and closes as she tries to process, “Wha– How… How did this even happen? I mean, I know how, but… I didn’t even think you had even had your first kiss yet!”

“Mum!” You exclaim, embarrassed, very much aware Elle and Keira are still in the kitchen as well, even if Keira already knew.

“Leah, come on,” Keira interrupts, biting back a laugh, “The kids’ 19, she’s not a nun.”

“Wait,” Leah’s gaze inched in on her best friend, “Did you know about this, and you didn’t tell me?”

Keira holds her hands up in the air, “I only found out this morning, but it wasn’t my place to say anything, Le,” She tells her, “This is Monkey’s news to tell you.”

Leah blinks in disbelief, “I… I can’t believe this–  I thought you were into girls?”

“Yeah, me too,” You retort, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly, “I guess not…”

“Well, clearly not,” Leah mutters, exhaling a sharp sigh, “Is this your idea of experimenting? I mean it’s a little late, isn’t it? You’re not even on anything– You know, you could have talked to me about this, and we could’ve gone to the doctor together–”

“Mum!” Seriously?” You cut her off, tears stinging your eyes, “I’m freakin’ out right now… It’s all over. My career is over. My life is over.”

“Oh, no, my girl,” Leah’s expression softens instantly, stepping forward, wrapping you in a hug and resting her chin on your head, “Your life isn’t over. Sure, things are going to change… You’re going to have a baby, and well, you can kiss goodbye to the next 18 years of sleep, but…”

“You’re not helping me here!” You groan into her shoulder.

Leah chuckles softly, pulling back to meet your eyes, “Don’t worry, my girl. There’s nothing to be scared about. We’ll get this all figured out, alright? You don’t have to do it alone.”

You look at her sceptical, “So… You’re not mad? You’re not going to kick me out?”

“What? Why would I be mad?” Leah shakes her head, “Shocked, yeah. But mad? I could never be mad at you, my girl. Never. I’m here for you. We both are, and you don’t have to worry about ever being kicked out. This house is your home, for you and the baby as long as you want to live here.”

“I still have to tell Mama,” You murmur in realisation, anxiety creeping back in.

Leah hums in agreement, “You do.”

“Can you help me with that one?” You ask, wearly.

“Oh no,” Leah says quickly, holding her hands up, “This one’s all on you. You have to tell her, Monkey.”

Keira grins, “New year, new chaos, huh?”

You shift nervously, one foot to the other, “Alright, uh… I guess I have other news to break as well.”

Leah raises an eyebrow, “What could possibly be worse?”

You wince, preparing to speak again, “The lad I slept with is a Spurs fan,” You blurt out before bolting for the door.

“YOU WHAT?” Leah’s shout reverberates through the kitchen.

“Oh, I think that went well,” Keira snickers in amusement.

“Monkey, you get back ‘ere right now!” Leah yells, “What do you mean he’s a Spurs fan? Are you joking me?” She asks, emphasising the team name for dramatic effect.

Keira shakes her head, still laughing, “You took that worse than the fact you’re gonna be a Nana before you’re 30,” She jokes, “Nana Leah has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Leah’s eyes widen in horror at the realisation, “No, no, absolutely not! That’s not happenin’!”

You flop back down on your bed, leaving Leah in her mid-panic about the news. Despite her reaction, a weight feels lifted that you don’t have to keep it a secret from her anymore.

Now, you just have to tell Jordan.

“Well, no time like the present,” You mumble to yourself, grabbing your phone from where it’s buried under the covers. Scrolling through your contacts, you tap on Jordan’s name and wait for the call to connect.

“Hiya, little one,” Jordan’s familiar voice greets cheerfully.

“Hi, Mama,” You reply softly, biting your lip. The usual comfort her voice brings feels overshadowed by nerves.

Jordan immediately picks up on your tone, her brow furrowing on the other end, “What’s the matter, little one? Everything okay?”

“Umm…” You hesitate, gripping the phone tighter, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Oh?” Jordan’s voice is calm but curious.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, “Uh, are you sitting down?”

“I’m not, but should I be?” Jordan jokes lightly, trying to ease the tension she senses, “What’s going on?”

Your heart pounds as you swallow the lump in your throat, “So, uh… The thing is… I’m pregnant.”

There’s a pause on the line.

“Right,” Jordan finally says, her tone a mix of shock and disbelief, “Are you… Are you sure?”

“Crystal,” You confirm with a weak laugh, “The positive test in the bin confirms it.”

“Wow,” Jordan exhales sharply, her usual composure faltering, “Alright, wow… So, you’re pregnant.”

You nod even though she can’t see you, “Yeah.”

“Have you told Leah?” Jordan questions, curiously.

“I told Mum just before I called you,” You admit.

Jordan hums on the other end of the phone, “And… How’d she take it?”

“Better than I expected, honestly. I mean, she was shocked, but she wasn’t mad. Although…” You trail off, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Although what?” Jordan prompts, sounding more grounded now.

“I think she took it worse when I told her the lad’s a Spurs fan,” You confess,  bracing yourself for the reaction.

Jordan groans on the other end of the line, “Oh, for God’s sake, Monkey. Could you have not chosen literally anyone else?”

“Apparently not,” You quip, grimacing at the fact that you willingly slept with someone who supports that team, “Trust me, I almost gag at the thought of it. This baby is going to be a Gooner.”

Jordan chuckles in response, “Well I think if Leah has anything to do with it, it definitely will be,” She states, “Other than that, how are you feelin’?”

“I’m… I’m getting there, I think I’m over the shock of it now,” You admit honestly, “I was a bit terrified to tell you both, but now that you both know, I feel better. Less alone.”

“You’re never going to be alone, little one,” Jordan assures you firmly, “We’re always going to be here for you, and for this baby as well. No matter what.”

Her words bring a lump to your throat, but this time, it’s one of gratitude, “Thanks, Mama.”

“Always,” Jordan says softly. Then, with a playful edge, she adds, “But seriously, Monkey. A Spurs fan? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” You reply sheepishly, “I was so drunk… I’m never touching Vodka again.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Jordan laughs in agreement, “Alright, we’ll talk more when I see you, okay? Try to take it easy for now.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to put the skydiving on hold for now then…” You joke with a laugh, finally feeling a bit lighter, “I can’t believe that I’m going to have a little rugrat of my own.”

© scribblesofagoonerr

[fansids]

Shadow of the King Au Art Dump

Since I very rarely get past the sketching phase any presentable art is rare, but I managed to find some for ya'll

Warning for some old ass art:

1. The Stalwart Generals

I spent an ungodly amount of time figuring out the designs, dynamics, and personalities of all of these monkies so I'll be damned if I don't show them first.

The Generals take care of anything SWK is unable to. They are in charge of FFM when he's not present.

Marshal Ma - While technically all the generals are the same rank, Marshal Ma is considered SWK's unofficial second in command. She's calm in every crisis with a very low bs tolerance and is 75% of the reason why the island doesn't fall to chaos every time SWK leaves. She's highly respected by all the inhabitants and can and will break your spine Bane style if the situation calls for it.

Marshal Liu - Mean bisexual. Marshal Ma's sister and the bane of her existence. On duty she takes her role very seriously. Off duty she likes to keep Ma on her toes with her dumbassery. She's easy going, hates clothes, and loves to fight. She has a slightly concerning amount of knives on her person at all times. She is big gay for General Beng.

General Beng - Meaner lesbian. A siamang and the largest and tallest of the generals. She enjoys dressing up, tea (both kinds), and a good party. She has a very short fuse. While her size and strength alone would generally deter anyone from testing her temper, there are always idiots. She can fight, but she knows her Liu would enjoy it more.

General Ba - The youngest of the generals. While she's not shy, she is very quiet. She does not waste her words. But, when she speaks, the others will stop whatever they're doing to listen. She likes to spend her free time in the libraries. Get her in the right mood and she'll argue with you for hours about the most random subjects.

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2. Macaque face evolution

Was trying to get a feel for Macaque's face and how it changes throughout the au. Top right is the youngest, bottom right is the oldest. Bro gets all sorts of messed up from the whole died and resurrection thing and very much looks wrong afterwards.

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3. New fit

Macaque and SWK have the whole cape thing going on, I figured SWK gave Mac one of his own when he was still training under him. I like to think it holds a lot of sentimental value to him since he still wears it in present day but he would rather get his head smashed in again than admit it.

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4. I'm sure this won't come back to bite anyone later

Eeesh. Imagine spending your whole life training to receive and keep the Sun Wukong's attention only for him to casually give it to some random human boy thousands of years later. I mean, Macaque did betray him and everything, but it's the principle.

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5. The Tongbi Gibbon Concepts

One of the four world-wrecking/celestial monkies. My brain was very focused on the whole pulling celestial bodies out of the sky part of her abilities that I made her based around that line.

Don't know if this fit is still canon as she and the Horse Monkey had a large role to play in Shadow of the King, and I'm considering if I should take them out

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Bonus:

I consider the Tongbi gibbon and the Horse Monkey to be older than both Sun Wukong and Macaque in Shadow of the King. The Horse Monkey is the eldest, but the Tongbi's age is nothing to sniff at.

That being said, that does not mean she can't be bought.

Takes place after all the traumatizing shit in SotK

Panel 1

Tongbi: Child, I am an ancient being. I hold the power of gods within me. I was witness to the birth of the Great Sage himself. I have seen nations and empires rise and fall. I have gathered and spent innumerable wealth. Yet you think you can bribe me with 20 yuan?

Panel 2

The host: ...how 'bout 30?

Panel 3

Off-panel (Horse Monkey): TONGBI!!

MK: I thought the nimbus made you airsick

Red Son: Not helping, Noodle Boy

Tongbi: BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!

[itsabouttimex2]

Can I request a platonic yandere sun wukong and macaque realizing that the teen mystic monkey they've been raising is planning to leave ffm?

O Child of Unity

(I’m assuming you want Shadowpeach, then? I’m still not the best with it, but I’ll try! Also, a new bot is up!🧡💜 Also again, this fic is compliant with Deepest Hues- which I’ll expand on soon!)

There are four base colors in our world: black, white, yellow, and red. Together, these four hues represent the base components of alchemy- nigredo, albedo, citrinitas, and rubedo.

In times ancient and forgotten, a massive reservoir of these four colors existed in each corner of the earth. Like pools of chaos they surged, brimming with power and life. From each of these brightly-hued depths did an egg arise, containing a Mystic Monkey of incredible potential.

One of light. One of shadow. One of snow. One of fire.

And recently, a brand new simian, born of a union from nigredo and citrinitas, pitch black and bright yellow fusing their mystical lineage into a mottled green.

Their union blessed the world with a little virescent monkey, big eyes and soft fur-

You.

The world is such a wonderful place, you’ve learned. Geysers of boiling water and hunched spikes of snow. Sand white as bone and lakes stained pink by algae. Forests comprised of just one tree and diminutive flowers with digestive maws.

From book to book you’ve torn, indulging your curious brain in every last little wonder of the world- from glacial peaks to crystal caverns.

How many pages have you worn away by now, dreaming of wonders far beyond your reach? How many dreams has your mind spun, longing for something new? How many times have you lost the world to a lovely little daydream that took hours to shake?

A less generous eye would view this behavior as unhealthy. They might even refer to it as a ‘coping mechanism’, spending half the day locked into a foggy haze, pretending that life was more exiting, more fulfilling.

Even you had come to realize the inherent instability of your constant stupor, eventually.

All you have to do to fix this problem, then… is make those dreams a reality!

…right?

Right! No time to waste worrying!

Packing is easy! It used to be a time-killer of yours as a child, pretending to go on adventures across the world with only your trusty well-stocked backpack. All these little games were played out under the watchful eyes of your fathers, ensuring your fun never turned dangerous or led you somewhere that was off-limits.

You’d pick a locale and prepare for an ‘expedition’ with snacks and clothes, always running and asking Bába to open the pantry for you.

“A winter adventure,” Sun Wukong would lovingly coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Sounds like fun, bud! Don’t forget to pack your warm socks, kay?”

He’d laugh and play along, pushing sandwiches and chocolate protein bars into your hands, always with a pouch of juice to pair. Sometimes he’d go the extra mile of bagging them up, giving you a paper sack that wouldn’t be out of place on a field trip.

(How often you begged to be enrolled in school, physical or at least online. And your fathers would ‘tsk’ and shake their heads, but quickly promise you ice cream as a bandage balm for your youthful sorrow.)

And then he’d watch your little journeys with a quirked eyebrow, smiling as you pulled your plushes (given that you had no playmates outside of base simians and your often busy fathers) along and narrated your games.

You’d fill out a page in your bulky journal detailing the ‘journey’, consigning your little hours of make-believe to white pages.

And as you had grown, that many-paged journal stayed tucked under your arm, all your thoughts and hopes written away into it.

Even now, as you stare out at the endless horizon so plainly in front of you- the book is held to your chest, warmed by the excited beat of your heart.

It holds all those dreams you’ve dreamt for a full decade now, each one precious and utterly perfect to your nostalgic mind.

The grass is long and bright, glistening with morning dew. It sparkles under the rising rays of the sun, a picturesque landscape laying in front of you. Flower Fruit Mountain (Mount Huaguo, as your fathers sometimes called it) was beautiful. Is beautiful. But pretty can only satiate the mind for so long, and certainly couldn’t fulfill your wanderlust any longer.

You had explored every cave, climbed every tree, mucked every puddle, cuddled every monkey.

It had been nice. And you’d miss it, but-

The world was waiting!

And you could wait no longer.

Stuffing the oversized book into your backpack, you do the one thing you’ve wanted to do for years- and take off running.

Lush grass rips under your feet, laying in scattered half-length piles as your boots tear across the wet ground. Muddy footprints squash down flowers and weeds alike, nothing stopping your gleeful dash.

Over puddles and through tree crooks, beneath towering canopies and across deep ponds- you run. All that hampers you is the heavy bags strapped to your back and waist, full of the supplies you once only dreamed of handling during a journey.

A real, actual journey! How long had you waited?! Years and years! And it was finally coming true!

But you turn the corner of a rock too quickly, and smack head-on into something solid and warm, the figure grasping you tightly.

And all too suddenly, one of your fathers- Macaque- stares down at you, clearly displeased.

“Explain,” he sharply says, holding out the note you had left on the dining table, unfolded and excitedly penned. It had been written in such a rush of gleeful adrenaline that some parts are nigh-unintelligible.

But; even with wild pen scrawl and joyful errors, it was clearly an intended farewell.

The claw marks shredding through half of the paper is proof that he hadn’t exactly taken the notion well.

“Y/N. What the hell is this? You’re running away?”

“N-no! I’m just-“

“Do you think this is how it all works? You throw a note on the table and head out into a world you know nothing about?”

“I do know about the world! I’ve been researching it for years!”

“Your ‘research’ doesn’t mean a thing! You have no skills, no experience, nothing!”

“Because you won’t let me do anything!”

The accusation causes him to bristle in anger, lips pulled back as he snarls. His fangs, glistening and sharp, draw your attention.

(Sometimes you forget what Macaque has done. How scary he can be. Sometimes you forget that he’s never regretted his crimes. Moments like this are happy to remind you.)

Your bravado and boldness vanish startlingly quickly, shrinking under the furious gaze of the simian.

The Six-Eared simian snags your wrist, stomping over to a cavernous rift of shadows. With your arm held tight, he jumps in and drags you along.

You fall from a ceiling and into the waiting arms of your other father, Wukong. He grins and nuzzles the fur of his cheek to your own, relishing in the warmth of familial closeness. A golden brazier burns next to him, recently lit and brightly chugging the wooden fuel within.

“Someone was up to a little bit of mischief, huh?”

His reaction is the polar opposite to Macaque- where his husband blows up and seethes, the Great Sage lies to himself and pretends that everything is okay. It’s easier to think of his child as a little imp than an outright runaway.

As Wukong dotes, Macaque rips away the thick jacket and boots that you were wearing, throwing them into the nearest closet.

You didn’t need them, after all. You weren’t going anywhere.

Though a part of you is disgruntled to have some of your clothing torn away so suddenly, it’s only when he snatches the backpack that you scrabble from the Great Sage’s arms.

“Don’t mess with that!” You call, trying to wrangle the bag from his grip- but he’s got your journal before you manage to pry it free.

He holds the gargantuan journal, full of all the dreams you had through your life- to see snow penitentes, to view miscolored lakes, to visit ancient forests, to explore the world that had been kept from you for so long.

“This is what gave you those ideas? Your little baby book, kiddo?”

“It’s not-“

“Shut it! You tried to run away. You don’t get to speak right now.”

He takes a moment to breath, glaring at the offending journal. To him, the answer is clear- get rid of the book, and he’ll get rid of your silly ideations of “freedom”. If it comes undone to the very binds, then maybe you’ll give up on leaving and return to the cozy schedule your fathers adhere you to. Forehead kisses and morning cuddles, shared meals and long naps through the cold of winter.

Without it, his life will go back to being perfect, and to an obsessive villain like Macaque?

A little bit of your sorrow is worth the happiness that keeping you close brings.

“Enough of these pointless dreams.”

The Six-Eared Macaque stands to his full height, the multicolored glow on his ears fading to black as his eyes burned red. With one angry sling, he throws your book into the deepest ashes of the gilded brazier.

It catches quick, melting and warping for just a brief few milliseconds before incinerating.

You stand there for a moment in sheer disbelief, watching as a decade of heartfelt writing crumbles away in seconds.

The raw, unspeakable hurt it produces leaves you breathless and mute, incapable of summoning even a single sorrowful word.

Macaque staggers back as tears bubble up in your eyes- even the villain himself has realized that this was a step much too far. His intention; as often to the innocent and undeserving, was to inflict suffering.

Even his own family wasn’t off the table.

His sable hands are much too slow in retrieving the book from uncaring flames, snagging only an empty cover now bereft of inner pages.

Ruined. Utterly ruined and destroyed.

The slow realization that you’ll never have back your childhood journal, never read again your years of games and research, never write another word in the precious book, never finish it- never, never, never, never, all in a devastating row.

The realization sinks in slow, but clicks into place all the same.

A low whimper builds in your throat, slowly pitching up as wetness spill down your cheeks. So many tears fall that they blind your vision, pairing well with the sobs that escape you.

Wukong glares at his partner with boiling eyes, a look of outright hatred in them. “Macaque. What. The. Hell.”

“…they h-had to learn a lesson,” he weakly justifies, his cowardice bubbling up in full force.

Run from Five Phases Mountain. Run from the Brotherhood. Run from Wukong. Run from the Lady Bone Demon. Run from the Samadhi Fire. Run from consequences and run from heroes, and pray that everyone forgets how badly he deserves to be punished for his cruelty and arrogance and sins.

Still a little rat, slinking in the shadows.

“Get out,” the Great Sage snarls, fangs dripping with immeasurable hatred, and, as ever, as always-

Macaque runs.

Wukong turns to you as his pitch husband bolts, throwing off his chest-plate and wrapping his unfathomably powerful arms around your quivering form.

He’s warm, much like a spring of volcanic water, or sun-kissed wood.

Or a raging, burning fire.

You don’t really want to be warm right now.

But the ferocity with which you pound his chest and gut leave the simian utterly unfazed, shushing and hushing you all the same.

“Shh, pumpkin, shh. You know your Bába hates to see you cry. C’mon, let’s dry those tears. Y’know what? How about we get you some ice cream, bud? Something sweet and cold to make you feel better.”

Wukong doesn’t wait for a response. He rarely does. The immortal boosts you up into his arms, heading to the kitchen. He kisses your cheeks and forehead and the bridge of your nose, trying to placate your tears with an overdose of physical affection.

This was your life. Your world.

And you were starting to doubt that you’d ever leave it.

[theartofcollapse]

could you write a really domestic fic f reader x olivia where she arrives tired from a day of work and their daughter is agitated, reader is tired and still making dinner and when she sees that reader is going to freak out she starts running with her daughter down the house and play hide-and-seek to lighten the reader's weight?

a/n: thank you for your request, I hope you like it :) summary: read it above pairing: Olivia Benson x female reader warnings: none word count: 1.1K

masterlist

Teamwork - Olivia Benson

The familiar click of the door unlocking made you glance up from the pot of pasta simmering on the stove. Olivia was home. You felt a pang of relief and exhaustion all at once, the kind that comes after an endlessly long day when you’ve been counting the minutes for backup to arrive. Your backup was Olivia.

“Mommy!” your four-year-old daughter, Sophie squealed from her spot on the kitchen floor, where she’d been playing with her blocks. She scrambled up on her tiny legs, her earlier frustration over a misplaced piece completely forgotten as she dashed to greet Olivia.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Olivia’s voice, though tired, softened instantly. She scooped Sophie up in her arms and peppered her face with kisses. For a moment, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to dissipate, until the shrill sound of boiling water overflowing brought you back to reality.

“Crap,” you muttered, quickly turning the burner down and grabbing a towel to clean the mess.

“Hey,” Olivia said, stepping into the kitchen with your daughter still clinging to her like a little monkey. “You okay?”

You glanced at her, a half-smile on your face, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. Just… she’s been cranky all day, I’m behind on dinner, and I didn’t even get a chance to clean up the mess in the living room. It’s fine.”

Olivia frowned, immediately recognizing the brittle edge to your voice. “Y/N…”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing past her to drain the pasta. You could feel the pressure building behind your eyes, a familiar burn warning you that you were moments away from losing it. But there wasn’t time. Dinner wasn’t going to cook itself.

Olivia set Sophie down, kissed her forehead, and whispered something in her ear. Before you could ask what she was up to, Olivia clapped her hands together dramatically.

“Alright, kiddo! Let’s go. We’re playing hide and seek!”

Sophie’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Really. Go hide, and I’ll come find you. And remember, the tickle monster is coming!” Olivia growled playfully, wiggling her fingers. Sophie shrieked with laughter and took off down the hallway.

“Liv, you don’t have to..” you started, but she cut you off with a kiss to your temple.

“I’ve got it,” she said softly, her brown eyes warm despite the weariness in them. “You just finish dinner, okay?”

And with that, she took off down the hall, calling out, “Where’s my little troublemaker hiding? Hmm, I wonder if she’s under the bed..”

The sound of your daughter’s giggles echoed through the house, and for the first time all day, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

You turned back to the stove, the corners of your mouth tugging up into a genuine smile as you listened to Olivia and your daughter’s antics. A crash from the living room followed by Olivia’s exaggerated gasp told you they’d moved their game there.

“Is she behind the couch? No? Oh no, she must have disappeared forever!” Olivia’s dramatic tone had you chuckling under your breath.

By the time dinner was ready, Olivia came back into the kitchen carrying the little girl, who was red faced and breathless from laughing. “I found her,” Olivia said, grinning.

“I wasn’t even hiding!” Sophie declared proudly, making you and Olivia laugh.

As you set the plates on the table, Olivia leaned in close, her hand brushing yours. “You’re amazing, you know that?” she murmured.

You met her gaze, the warmth in her expression chasing away the last remnants of your stress. “So are you.”

Dinner that night was chaotic. Sophie refused to eat her vegetables, and Olivia ended up with pasta sauce on her shirt but it was also full of laughter.

After you’d tucked your daughter into bed, the house finally felt still. You leaned against the doorway of her room, watching her tiny chest rise and fall with each peaceful breath. Olivia stood behind you, her arms slipping around your waist as she rested her chin on your shoulder.

“She’s out cold,” Olivia murmured, her voice low and warm. “We must’ve worn her out.”

You smiled softly, leaning back into her. “You saved the day,” you admitted. “I was this close to losing it.” You held your fingers an inch apart for emphasis, though the weight of earlier stress still lingered in your chest.

Olivia turned you gently in her arms, her hands finding your waist. “Hey,” she said softly, her brow furrowing in that way that made you feel like you were the only thing in the world she cared about at that moment. “You’re allowed to lose it sometimes. It’s okay.”

Your eyes began to sting again, but this time it wasn’t from frustration. It was the overwhelming sense of being seen, of being held, not just physically but emotionally. “I just.. I hate feeling like I can’t do it all, you know?”

Olivia cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing gently against your skin. “You don’t have to do it all, Y/N. That’s why I’m here. We’re a team. And you’ve been carrying so much, on top of everything else, you still managed to make dinner and take care of her all day. You’re incredible.”

Her words cracked something open inside you, and before you could stop yourself, the tears spilled over. Olivia didn’t say anything, just pulled you close, tucking your head against her shoulder as her hand stroked soothing circles on your back.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You stayed like that for a while, the quiet hum of the house wrapping around you both like a blanket. Eventually, Olivia guided you to the couch, where she pulled you down beside her. She didn’t ask if you wanted tea or try to suggest ways to fix things, she just held you, her arms strong and steady, her presence a balm for your frayed nerves.

“I know I don’t say it enough,” you murmured against her shoulder, your voice thick with lingering emotion. “But thank you. For everything.”

“You say it more than you think,” she replied, her lips brushing your hair. “And even if you didn’t, I’d still be here.”

The quiet comfort of the moment stretched out, and as Olivia’s hand found yours, lacing your fingers together, you felt your chest loosen for the first time all day.

As you leaned into Olivia’s warmth and let her hold you, it didn’t feel so overwhelming. You weren’t alone. You never would be.

[bitbot360]

Howdy hey everyone, hope ya doing well. I've to share all of the admins!....well the first four-

anywaysss, I hope you all enjoy the designs I cooked up! I am really proud of em for the most part. Gonna show off these bad boys from youngest to oldest mkay? cool; starting off things hot with the loveable-

Caine! The Dungeon master! And Bubble! The Gazer!

Caine is the youngest out of all 8 of his siblings!(crazy ik). Much like his canon counterpart, he is a very hyper and overzealous caretaker of everyone is his level! He just likes wizards and stuff :D. Bubble is Bubble and does know your internet history, you depraved monster. Next up we have is-

Ayble! The Office Boss! With Nem

And Sis!

Unlike his younger brother Caine, Ayble is a straight laced worker who's prime objective is to keep everything in order. Although he isn't above being snarky to any of his employee's if they have it coming. Nem typically assigned to making sure everyone is well fed with coffee and fast food, while Sis is busy helping Ayble with the business back end side of things. Next we got-

Seph! The Mad Man! With Cubey, Octa and Tetra.

While both of his younger siblings have some level of order, Seph's main thing is causing disorder and chaos! His level is nonsensical with lil rhyme or reason as to why anything happens the way they do. However, with the help of his three main men, he is able to give the people in his realm SOME sort of "adventure to go on"....it usually isn't safe but where's the fun in that? Last but not least we have-

Fami! The Queen Of Decay! with Binker, Sinker, Dinker and Ralph

Fami is the most *inactive* out of all of her siblings, she is often found wondering her level seemingly with no rhyme or reason to what she does. The lil guys™ are usually the ones who interact with the unlucky ones who landed in her level.

Welp! thats all I got for today...any probably for a lil bit. I wanna say again that I hope you all enjoy the four monkeys! I'll be working on the lore so I can at the very least post a wip masterpost so people will know what the fuck this au is even meant to be lol. Until that happens, my ask are open so if you have any questions lmk! I'll answer what I can :D

[mysticmonkie]

So weird question how does the rumble and savage pregnancy/birth even work and how did this even happen?

I don't have any ideas for any actual character to be the other parent for the twins, merely that there was residual energy leftover in Macaque's body from after LBD granted him a portion of her power and that's how Macaque's body decided to expel it.

Think about it, LBD was going to reset not only the mortal world, but all beyond that- Heaven, the Diyu, everything. "A clean slate," as she put it. Being as powerful as she was, and having also taken MK's (thus Sun Wukong's) powers as well, that residual energy would be very potent and full of potentially creative properties. Mix that in with the Six-Eared Macaque's direct connections to the Monkey King, and Mac could be capable of unimaginable power (like chaos) just the same. Trying hard enough, any of these three celestial primates could be capable of creating just about anything imaginable. Whether they create on purpose or by mistake (think MK spiraling in that forest) is another story.

Bonus detail:

Since Rumble and Savage lack another parent to split DNA with, the twins are essentially genetic clones to Macaque. This is why they still have the same six ears instead of the four fan usually give Mac's children. Their different coloration is result of their creation through qi/chi/magic.

Also fun fact: Wukong has only witnessed this occurring one other time in the 2,150+ years he's been alive.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Holy crap! I can only imagine how the Stalwarts are dealing with all this.

You mentioned that they have been keeping an eye on Wukong all these years. Did they know about the mysterious Stone Egg their King took in before his disappearance, or did Wukong keep it secret?

Did they know about the fight that cost their King his memories, or did they find him after the fact once they were informed that he disappeared?

If so then why haven’t they come forward? Why haven’t they said anything? Why are they only here when Peaches already has a new life and family? Why are they only here when he’s having a full blown existential crisis? This is what’s going through Peaches’ head as he’s essentially being info dumped to by these strangers who claim to know him.

No doubt Peaches is feeling so overwhelmed by all of this. So, Dadsy puts his foot down and shoos everyone away because he can see that his eldest is seconds away from a breakdown.

I feel like, despite his grumpy exterior, Pigsy is the more emotionally sensitive parent. He’s not and did not start out perfect, but he has learned read his boys like the back of his hand. Peaches, particularly, he found quite easy to read and understand his quirks and habits. He doesn’t know how, or why they sometimes made his feel strangely nostalgic. Oh, well 🤷

+ bonus anon ask;

The Stalwarts were def panicking when they checked in on their King and found evidence of a scuffle. They knew he had been tending to an odd rock for a while, but they had assumed at first it was a case of him brooding like a hen over a regular stone.

An alarm is sounded off across the Realms when the King fails to return that morning.

Eventually it's Nezha who finds a patch of destroyed woodland just outside of Megapolis, along with scraps of the King's nightclothes and pieces of shell-like rock...

The Stalwarts had debated for a while over whether or not to walk in and claim "Peaches" as their missing brother, but after seeing him with a newborn Stone Monkey and a pair of his Pilgrim brothers reborn, they decided it was better for him to heal where he couldn't be harassed by Heaven or Diyu.

They also made sure to keep the *Amnesia-thing* to themselves. The Celestial Realm nor Wukong's enemies need to know about that. They had found the smell of a suspicious-smelling liquid on the King's clothing scraps.

The Stalwarts take care of the island with it's King away, driving out villains and humans alike to preserve the Monkey King's home.

The four also keep a close eye on their King and future Prince. A gym teacher here, a kind granny there, a grumpy regular here, a market stall owner etc... just to make sure they stay out of world-ending trouble.

Their little brother deserves a happy childhood after all he's been through.

They do reveal themselves however, after the chaos of New Years throws Peaches/Sun Wukong's condition into the limelight. He's not just some kid claiming to be Sun Wukong's successor - he IS Sun Wukong with his memories stolen!

They help his adoptive family with the cleanup around the city, and formally introduce themselves as Peaches' *first* found family. There's a minor panic that they've come to "take him away", but the older monkeys quickly calm that fear - they've been around for a while, and have no interest in ripping their brother from his present troop. They explain their side of the story, and how they felt it would be a kindness to let their little brother live happily and for his little miracle to have a normal childhood. Had they come forward, he would have been immediately recognised and targeted for his condition.

Peaches does get a little overwhelmed by all this lore though, and the Stalwarts take the cue to leave from a concerned Pigsy, promising to continue protecting him and his family from harm. Pigsy appreciates their ability to read the room (unlike Tang, who's been interviewing them for the past hour or so).

They do however joke that Pigsy is now their Dadsy too since he's adopted their baby brother! And MK is now the "baby-est" brother of their little family to spoil! Pigsy grumbles a little at that, but doesn't object. XD

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 4, In Which You Attend A Very Special Event (Part 2)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

AO3

Chapter 4 (part 2)

TW: bad, very bad, horrible BDSM etiquette, spanking, what could be considered dub-con (protagonist is willing but immobilised), if you are sensitive to dub-con, DO NOT PROCEED, sleep paralysis. 

The waiter led you back to your seat from the restroom, disturbing Raphael's lively conversation in Turkish with someone at a nearby table; in their talk, they repeated the word "ASELSAN", as if calling upon some kind of a devil.

The moment you sat down, the waiter leaned in close and whispered as he set something right before you, "This dish may remind you of the things that scare you". 

No reminder was necessary. The thing that scared you was seated right across from you. 

You cautiously sampled the dish; not so much a bite but more of a gulp. It required a spoon, its formlessness demanded it. Oddly enough, it didn’t taste like cherries or sulphur; it tasted like nothing. Not even dust and ashes, just emptiness. No heaven or hell, no gods or devils, no grand design, no meaning or narrative. Monkey lives, and monkey dies; there's nothing more to it because there was never meant to be anything more. 

It tasted like nothing at all, and you did think that chef conveyed the feeling masterfully - an accomplishment that would likely warrant a four-figure bill, but fortunately, you weren't the one covering it.

"What does it taste like for you?" you asked. "The things that scare you?"

Raphael didn't appreciate the question; his response came after a long pause.

"A cacophony of flavours too complex to describe," he finally answered. "Too chaotic to make sense of."

He was afraid of chaos, of course, ever the control freak. You put the spoon away. Tonight, you were probably getting killed, possibly getting fucked, but one thing was for certain: you wouldn't leave here without feeling hungry.

"So where were we before you left?" Raphael continued nonchalantly, “Theatre of Cruelty isn't about sadism per se, it can be; but must not be. It's about a visceral determination to shatter false realities; to dismantle illusions."

You weren't much of a theatre kid, but in that moment Artaud's philosophy resonated with you in ways it never had before.

“Oh, I get him”, you whispered. “I would love to shatter some illusions as well.”

"I had no doubt that you would understand," Raphael replied, his voice laced with genuine affection. "You possess an artistic flair and a vivid imagination."

“I do”, you nodded. “So vivid I can hear the rustle”.

“The rustle of what?”

“You know what,” you mumbled. His wings. You could feel them fluttering, you could almost outline their shape (could you?) through your blindfold.

Raphael sat across from you with his wings fully extended. Meanwhile, his tail was still misbehaving under the table, prickling against your skin, tickling you, poking against you, goading and provoking you and succeeding at that.  

You couldn't keep going on like this anymore.

That’s it. That’s it, you were personally coming for his bloody tail, wings and horns, you were catching him red-handed, literally so. 

“May I try your dish?”, you said in your sweetest, most seductive voice. 

"Indulge yourself," he said. "What's mine could easily become yours."

Uh-huh.

Pushing yourself up from the chair, you curled your fingers around the table edge to anchor yourself as you navigated the short distance towards where Raphael should have been sitting. 

You stopped just before his seat. Inhaled, exhaled, pausing momentarily before taking the plunge - landing unceremoniously onto his lap. He let out a surprised gasp, a satisfyingly human response to your bold move.

“We could have asked the waiters to switch the plates”, he laughed into your ear, his warm breath tickling you.

“Would you have preferred that?”

He was hard already, almost painfully so (you’d hope painfully so for all the trouble he had put you through), body heat searing even through the thick fabric of his slacks, his bulge pressed against your arse. You couldn't help but imagine it pressing into you, and for a moment, you forgot about what you were supposed to be doing in his lap in the first place. 

"No, I indeed would have not," he confessed, repeating for emphasis: "I would have not."

You made a point of shifting and wriggling all over him until you heard his breath hitch in his throat, and that left you very much satisfied with your newfound power.

Your hand found his and he used it to guide the fork into your mouth.

“How do you like the taste of my fear?”, Raphael asked.

His left hand slightly tugged at your cross. The thing must be annoying him tremendously.

The dish tasted like all the leftovers in the fridge thrown in the pot to make a soup, chaotic, yes, but not disgusting. You weren't going to say that, however. You said, grinning ear to ear, your turn to provoke him now:

“It’s delicious”.

His wings fluttered at your words. You scooted away from his groin as you tried the dish, which he did not seem all too pleased with. He grabbed your hips, the sharp edges of his talons palpable through the fabric of your dress, and pulled you back right onto him 

The layers of fabric that separated the two of you made it difficult to gauge his exact size, but you just knew: he was generously endowed. That was one fact you never questioned. 

Anything else may be up for debate, but not this.

You couldn't help but wonder: what did he look like? You were so curious to see a real-life cambion. Is it like bad CGI or is it like ultra-realistic nightmare fuel?

Your hand slowly found its way to where his wings should have been, and sure enough, they were there.

"Do you know how I feel about the line between reality and fantasy?" Raphael purred in your ear.

His wings quivered under your touch, the raw grain of the leather pulsing under your fingertips as you traced the outline back to his shoulder. You always wondered what they would feel like. Like a rough skinned hide.

They were real. Warm, coarse and real, and he allowed you to touch them. His anatomy doesn't even make sense. How can his back support the weight of his wings? His muscle mass wouldn't be enough. How could he possibly fly?

"There is none. There never was," Raphael continued. "Fantasy bleeds into reality, reality bleeds into fantasy, it's a loop, a circle, an ouroboros. The gap between what we dream of and what we shall do given the opportunity - which we are almost never given -  is non-existent".

He was right about one thing: fantasy bled into your reality; bled all over it.

"I have fantasies that I wouldn't act out in real life," you protested, but not very fervently.

"What might they be?" he asked.

You, for example, you thought and realised that your statement was proving the very opposite of what you wanted it to prove. 

“Oh, many”, you said. “Like… Well, if I could try them out in real life, I would like some…”

You stopped in your words, thinking about your own personal conditions, your limits, your moral compass, and you'd never felt more lost about what those were. 

You struggled to articulate anything coherent. Probably too much wine.

"What would you like, pray tell?" Raphael asked again. "A safety net? Soft and padded escape routes should the monster get too terrifying, too lifelike? Such a scaredy little mouse”.

He was grinding against you at this point: if you ever had any doubt that Raphael wanted you as much as you wanted him, it was gone. 

The 'monster' was becoming frighteningly real and frighteningly hard against you. The things Raphael was saying were undoubtedly all wrong, and you knew you should contradict him, but you could not find the words.

“Says the control freak”, you said. “The ultimate control freak”.

You paused for a moment, wondering if he was familiar with the term "control freak." But then you remembered that he owned two iPhones and drives a car, so he probably was.

"Do not presume to know what I am," Raphael replied icily.

“Oh no, I know exactly who you are,” you protested.

"Is that truly the case, or is it simply a product of your oh-so-vivid imagination?" 

There was such casual, dismissive, cold arrogance in his voice it blinded you even with a blindfold on. How dare he speak to you in such a superior tone with his cock straining against his slacks?

No, you were not fucking imagining things.

Your fingers wrapped around the upper horn, feeling its rough texture and curved shape under your touch. It was massive, making your small palm feel even smaller. You held onto it tightly and gave it a slight squeeze.

He pretended not to notice.

“Caught you by the horn, Raphael,”, you whispered to where his ear should be, and pulled your blindfold down. “Now try to fucking deny that!”.

But there was nothing for him to deny; he didn't have horns at all. Or wings. Or tail, for that matter.

Instead, you were holding onto the curve of his chair, just above his head. The wood was rough and rugged beneath your grip. 

As with all the traps, it was only apparent that it was one after it had already been triggered

Should have checked for the lower horn.

Should have. 

“Oh”, Raphael said in his perfectly human form, still blindfolded, flashing you the most crocodilian smile you’ve ever seen. "Caught you by the hand, you little rule-breaker”.

All the blindfolded people looked exactly your way, as if sirened by his voice, as if tadpoled, possessed by a common will. The murmurs grew louder as the lights flickered back on.

You tried to pull away from him in sheer panic, but Raphael's grip on your wrist tightened before you could fall off his lap.

“You were warned about the rules and yet you chose to break them”, Raphael chided and pulled down his own blindfold. “Tsk-tsk-tsk."

“You made me”, you said. “You provoked me into it”.

"The devil made you do it?" Raphael kept on smiling. "Trick as old as the world itself; believe me, it never worked".

He had a look of pure joy on his face, exactly the same wicked face (you used to think that face was funny, but not anymore) when he declared his victories in the ending, only now he wasn't on your laptop screen, he was inches away from your face.

Then you remembered every debtor in the House of Hope, slowly, one by one, and their punishments. The archivist with the ruptured spine. Ruptured a thousand times. “Because you know how Raphael likes to play”.

At that moment, you wished for a Chinese Great Wall between reality and fantasy. This was real life, real pain, real consequences, your real body, and you only had one. 

Your blood ran several degrees hotter now, sweat poured down your arms.

“Please”, you begged. "Don't kill me. Don't… flay me."

(the very word ‘flay’ seemed so medieval and absurd spoken out loud)

Raphael’s smile widened at your pleas. He squeezed you lightly, in very genuine delight, like a child squeezes his new favourite toy. “Any other requests?”

"Don't break my spine," you whispered, trying to recite the Lord's Prayer in your mind, but from the second line on, your thoughts got all mixed up. 

"Duly noted," he said, swallowing his drink in one gulp and watching you cling to your cross. "I thought you weren't religious. Found your faith now, have you?"

"Will it help?" you asked with a faint hope.

"Well," Raphael tilted his head and grew serious as if he was giving it some actual thought. "Your God is not known for being very helpful. But who knows? Perhaps he will make an exception for you, since you so kindly wore his symbol today."

He shook his head at the last sentence. 

It won't help, you realised and let go of the cross. 

"Put your blindfold back on," Raphael ordered, and you complied immediately. "Ah, such extraordinary speed and obedience! That's a good girl indeed. Ha, Anya, the expression on your face is delightful. You really do enjoy it when I call you that, don't you?"

"I do," you admitted, because you did, and because you desperately wanted to appease him. 

Raphael gave you a kiss on the lips - just a small one, a brushing one, a quick one. You felt his tail flick against your thigh in anticipation. Then he helped you from his lap - his touch surprisingly gentle - to your feet. 

"I will handle this personally," he said to someone in the crowd - presumably the dwarf. "I brought her, she is my responsibility."

"As you wish, R," he replied. "Your kingdom, your rules".

Raphael pushed you towards the stage. He lifted you up onto it with extraordinary ease, as if you were merely a small cat in his arms, when your legs seemed to forget how to climb stairs or move at all.

You didn't resist him; it didn't even occur to you to do so. The security guards weren't there for you, they were there for him, so no help would come from them either. They did not budge, that’s for sure.

No one here would do anything to help you. Let's hope it would be just a public fuck, just a public fuck, just a public fuck, let's pray for a public fuck (no, don't pray to God for that)...

How many people were there? Fifty? With the waiters, sixty? Some of them might know your mother. Colleagues. Neighbours. 

You tripped over something soft, just above your knees. A footrest? A loveseat? What was it? Your fingers traced its surface, trying to decipher its identity by touch alone.

"It's perfectly shaped for you to bend over," Raphael offered you some help. "Something you definitely should bend over."

Slowly, reluctantly, your body obeyed. You sank to your knees and leaned forward, your stomach pressed against the plush fabric, your hands reaching out for stability. You found it on the chair legs - their smooth surface slightly worn from years of use. 

Raphael lifted your dress carefully, taking care not to damage it. Then he slowly pulled your panties down until they rested around your knees (thank God they were so new and pretty). Then he planted a tender kiss on your right buttock, almost chaste in his touch, which was both the hottest and most embarrassing thing you had ever had experienced.

Then he parted your legs slightly. Now he would see that...

He would see that...

"You were really looking forward to your punishment, weren't you? Such a naughty little mouse," he chided. "Was that the very reason you broke my rules?”

A naughty little mouse. In spite of yourself, a smile spread across your face. He finally recognised his true self, and even better, he recognised you. 

You spread your legs a little further. Raphael was standing right behind you, your aching pussy fully exposed to him. 

And everybody else, of course. But you couldn’t see them, hear them, or care less about them. 

Snap.

A sharp sting on your bare bottom that made you gasp in surprise. It wasn't a hand... nor was it a crop... It moved swiftly yet precisely - long and flexible with a pointed end - just what the thing you'd been trying to grab all night had come back for revenge.

You’ve never been whipped, or spanked before. Your exes hadn't been into this sort of play and forcing them into something they were clearly uncomfortable with ruined the whole idea.

You rubbed the spot where the sting still lingered, warmth spreading from it, and for that you got one on the back of your hand.

And another on your calves, another on the bottom of your thighs, another one, this time higher.

And then another.

Each time his tail struck you, you flinched and recoiled in the chair. The initial sharp sting soon gave way to a warm sensation, then heat, and finally a searing burn that slowly engulfed your entire body. 

"Were you looking forward to your punishment, little mouse?" Raphael asked again, his voice a low, soft rumble; like a storm approaching. “Don’t make me ask thrice”. 

Your skin throbbed, burned, but you could tolerate this pain. There was something else beside it. You clutched onto the wooden legs, your hands trembling as you focused on this other feeling. 

Another lash seared across your backside, harder than those before… With this one you realised what you never had a chance to know for sure; that sure; you had been missing out, and terribly so.

You realised that you liked the pain he caused you. No, no; you loved it. Not just the pain; the forbidden, the taboo, the dirty, being bent over dirty in front of a bunch of strangers. So you could not hold back your answer. 

"Yes," you admitted breathlessly, shaking, and after another strike from his whip-like tail, you confirmed it with fervour. "YES! YES!"

A small part of you hated yourself for saying it, but a much larger part agreed wholeheartedly. 

The voices in the darkness laughed.

"Ah, so did I, little mouse," Raphael's words were soft, almost reverent. "I've been looking forward to this, terribly, terribly so." 

His voice became more and more disembodied; it seemed to come from everywhere now. The more he spoke, the more disorientated you became. You felt what he said rather than heard it. 

The tail took another wide swing, now slashing across your thighs, leaving rising welts on the skin. You screamed at the burn, less restrained now, and then you screamed like you didn't give a fuck, because you didn't. 

Your eyes glistened, overflowing with unrestrained tears, your blindfold damp; hot trails down your cheeks, the taste of them salty on your lips. Your body was running hot, hotter, hotter, your clit throbbing to the rhythm of this burning.

You were lost in a red-dark haze; the pain had become a background noise, but you couldn't ignore it. And you didn't want to ignore it, intoxicating and addictive and releasing as it was.

Each sting of the whip sent waves of pleasure through your cunt, causing it to clench and release, leaving a trail of wetness on your thighs. Not an orgasm, or maybe it was; you were no longer sure of anything.

"Elle s'est jouie juste en recevant une fessée?" someone to your left snickered. "Putain Raul, où est-ce que tu trouves ces salopes? Pourquoi je trouve jamais des salopes comme…"

"Ta gueule!" Raphael snapped back, and that someone promptly shut up. “Don’t you dare call her that ever again if you want to live”.

Somebody gasped. 

"Touch me... please..." you whimpered, taking advantage of the pause. "Do anything to me... anything!"

Raphael laughed. 

Your mother would be very proud of you now, a nasty little thought crossed your mind and you shoved it away with utter contempt, just like all the other thoughts that screamed at you that what was happening was obscene and obscenely wrong.

"I will, oh, I will," he said. “All in due time. Allow me to help you," he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you to your feet. "The most exciting part of dinner is about to commence."

Raphael reached down to your knees. His fingers brushed the delicate lace of your panties, and in a teasingly slow motion he began to pull them up.

It was the opposite of what you had imagined to be the exciting part.

"What part?" you asked, making another pained, pitiful sob, fully determined to pity him into fucking you.

His hands moved from your waist to straighten your dress, tucking it neatly into place before smoothing down any wrinkles. Your knees were red, and aching from the hardwood floor. You could not see anything, but you were sure your arse was a tapestry of criss-cross red marks.

"Why, dessert, of course," he breathed out with anticipation. "We're about to be served dessert! Let's cross our fingers for chocolate mousse; I've got quite the craving."

You waited, hoping it was a sexual metaphor, though you did not want to think any further about what exactly that metaphor was supposed to stand for.

As he led you back to the table, hand around your waist to guide you, you realised it wasn't. You weren't going to get fucked, at least not right away, which was a far more bitter disappointment than finding out he didn't have horns. 

Raphael was referring to the actual dessert, which he was very much looking forward to. He put you back in your chair as your arse screamed in pain and your pussy screamed in overwhelming need. 

Then he sat down opposite you. The cloth rustled; his blindfold was back on.

And then he continued.

"Pray tell, where was I? Ah yes, the most scandalous fact of all is that there existed but a single - can you imagine, a single! - production in the entirety of the 20th century inspired by Arnaud," Raphael said as the dessert plates descended onto the table. "It bore the title of The Persecution and Assasination of Jean-Paul Marat..."

He said it in one sentence, one bloody sentence, one run-on sentence, without pausing to breathe. 

"...as performed by the inmates of the asylum of Charenton under the direction of the Marquis de Sade..."

The only saving grace in this situation was that the dessert smelled absolutely delicious.

“…staged by Peter Weiß in post-war Germany, early sixties, I believe…”

You nodded and picked up your spoon. Sweet and tangy and oh-so-delicious creamy cherries - you couldn't help but moan in pure bliss, actually moan, and swallow it down with the rest of your pride, sanity and common sense.

What was there left to be embarrassed about?

“…shortly known as “Marat / Sade”. Oh, my dear, you are quite enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

"I am in fucking heaven," you exclaimed with a laugh. 

Raphael cleared his throat at your use of profanity.

You devoured the dessert with gusto, each spoonful better than the last, until there was nothing left but an empty plate and the lingering taste of cherry mousse on your lips.

If it was socially acceptable at a restaurant like that, you would have asked for seconds (not that anything you did here had been appropriate).

“Remove your blindfolds”, the dwarf commanded, and you ripped yours from your face as soon as you heard the verb remove.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, they landed on what was left of your plate. 

Nothing. You had eaten it all, licked it clean.

But on Raphael’s plate, who was sitting right across from you in his human form, about to light another cigarette (oh, now that you saw it, it was actually a cigar), on Raphael's plate... there was still something.

Your stomach cramped and hurt at the sight. 

Cherry red and sticky and slimy and full of texture and mass and shape and... 

And very much like...Very much like......brain tissue...

Which was... 

It was...

You mean ....

***

"What happened?" you asked, your voice groggy.

Your head was nestled in Raphael's lap, his fingers gently stroking through your hair, the soft hum of the car's engine lulling you back to sleep.

"Ah, piccola," Raphael exhaled with an amused sigh, "you decided to take a little nap after the cherry pudding”. 

You were sprawled on the plush leather back of a car, not the one you came in; some other limousine, whatever it was.

"It wasn't the cherry pudding." Your gaze flicked to the front of the vehicle where the driver sat, a dark shadow against the dashboard lights. "I saw something...like brains..."

"My bad, if I knew you were such an impressionable sort, I would have taken you elsewhere," Raphael said. His hand continued to gently stroke your head. "The dish presentation was a bit on the extravagant side, I agree, but trust me, no one was serving us prion diseases."

Maybe they were, maybe they weren't. You were too dazzled to argue anyway.

Raphael was back in his Raul persona. The change was slight, but it was there, in the timbre of his voice, in the movements - more businesslike, more impatient, more "my time is more valuable than yours", with a very slight Italian inflection at the end of sentences.

"I hope you still enjoyed our evening together as much as I did."

"Unforgettable," you said as you rubbed your aching bottom.

"Interesting choice of word," he muttered, gazing out the window with a humanly troubled expression. "I wouldn’t say that, but it was delightful, and hopefully one of many to come."

You felt too sleepy to ask to make any sense of what he was saying - was he saying the evening was delightful, but forgettable? Huh?

Nevermind. Lost in translation, probably.

"Where are we headed?" you asked instead, snuggling closer to him and closing your eyes.

"I'm taking you home," he answered. "That's what I promised you."

***

Less than an hour later, you were standing at the door of your apartment, which you had said goodbye to not so long ago, but which you now wished you did not have to see again so soon. 

You leaned against it and looked at Raphael. 

He looked thoughtful, his eyes a dark, glistening honey, the white shirt a little less tightly pressed now, but still tugging at his tanned skin, a thin gold chain around his neck.

In the half-light of the corridor, he looked particularly imaginary. The look suited him. 

What a handsome man, you marvelled. And yet fictional enough that you wanted him to kiss you, despite, well... despite who he was. 

What more could you lose? Your old life was gone the moment he called you a naughty little mouse from the screen.

"I brought you home safely," Raphael said. "I recall I promised to kiss you good night as well”.

You opened your mouth and were about to take a step towards him, but he was faster. He pinned you against the door of the flat. His stubble burned your face and his lips and mouth and skin tasted of tobacco and cherries and expensive leather. Hot and wet and smokey.

You kissed him as voraciously as you had ever kissed anyone before, real or imagined. Your fingers were tugging at his hair, tugging so hard it had to hurt. The skin on the back of his neck was so soft, so unlike him. His tongue was deep in your mouth, ready to plunge straight down your throat and choke you. 

If that's what he wanted, why the hell not?

The only thing you really wanted from him was for him to be as obsessed with you as you were with him. The rest, all the rest, you could live with, learn to live with. The things he might or might not have done, the debtors, the crimes, they weren't real enough anyway, at least not yet. 

That kiss was. You moaned against his mouth, his tongue pushing into your mouth until all you tasted was him, all you breathed was air from his lungs, all you felt was what he felt and what he wanted. 

Then, Raphael pulled away from you, and you wanted to slap him for it, and for a second you seriously believed you would. 

He took a step back, looking both annoyed and defeated and confused, adjusting the gold watch on his wrist. 

"There are certain rules I cannot ignore," he said. "I trust you understand."

There was no rule against fucking on the first date, NO SUCH FUCKING RULE, you wanted to scream at him, and if there was, it had been abolished and overruled long ago, and you didn't understand shit - but instead all that escaped your lips was an almost inaudible "Yes".

"Good," he coldly replied, before bidding you good night and letting the darkness of the staircase swallow him whole.

***

"back home all good," you texted your mum, and within three seconds you got a 'God bless' back, and then a whirlwind of other messages you didn't read.

Your laptop was still wide open, glowing brightly in the darkness of the room. Missed messages, pop-ups, a couple of flashing notifications in the bottom right-hand corner. 

You slammed it down.

Then you took off your clothes and jewellery, your cross, earrings and rings, everything, because everything itched and scratched and yearned and frustrated. Your skin felt like it was on fire, slick with sweat and saliva from his kisses. 

You lay down on your bed and buried your face in the pillow to escape the oppressive heat. It was April, wasn't it? 

Feels like the middle of August.

Exhaustion washed over you, wave after wave, but you didn't want to give in, because you had to think about what had happened, but you couldn't because your brain was melting. So you drifted off to sleep. And as you drifted, just as you were about to drift, a sensation that hadn't bothered you for years crept all over your body.

You recognised it very well. It was unmistakable; once you know it, you know it forever.

The sleep paralysis. 

Your muscles loosened, and your body relaxed as your heart raced in your chest. You took short, sharp breaths. Then a sense of inevitable doom flooded over you.

Your body betrayed you, stuck between dreaming and being awake, betrayed you and left you paralysed and at the mercy of him who you knew was standing in this room right next to your bed. 

Even without smelling the stench of sulphur, you would have sensed his presence like an animal senses a predator.

"I almost forgot, my darling mouse, my apologies," Raphael said. "I did not see to it that you had the sweetest dreams”.

A clawed hand landed beside the pillow your face was plastered to. You stared at it; viscerally real, five long, sharp black talons. Huge. Right beside your pillow and within arm's reach of the bed stand where you had discarded your jewellery (and your cross).

Then you felt his mass settle on you, pressing your prone body into the mattress; heavy, hard, burning hot, and very masculine in its arousal. So hot that you imagined little clouds of smoke rising from him into the air.

"Do not be afraid," Raphael said as he planted hot kisses along the nape of your neck and across your back. "As I have promised, you need not fear me, not me, never me."

You could feel him pushing your knees apart. He rose up and positioned himself behind you, easing between your legs, his shaft rubbing against your slick folds. 

His tail wrapped all around your right leg, as if to protect and hold you close.

You would buck your hips against him, you would moan if you could, to show him how much you wanted him, wanted this, but you couldn't move or make a sound. 

"Just look at you, my needy and desperate little human, my, my, mine" Raphael said with pure admiration, his talons stroking your still aching backside, his forked tongue licking you as if you were the most delicious of all treats. "What an exquisite sight you are. Tell me, does it feel good to finally lie beneath me?”

If you could tell a thing, you would tell him that good was not the right word; divine was the word, blasphemous as it was. 

You felt his thighs press inward, heavy and sure and inescapable.

"You will understand everything in time, I promise," Raphael whispered in your ear. "There are rules we must play by for now. I have not made them, or things would be very different between us.”

Yes, yes, whatever you say, I'll play by your rules, fuck-me-just-fuck-me, you thought, and he granted your wish; you felt the head of his cock push you apart and push into you, and you felt as if this, not any moment before, was the end of all the life you had lived before. 

Every moment felt like a century. It took a millennium for his cock to slide all the way into your pussy, and even though it was too big to fit comfortably, it fit just perfectly.

"Aren't you lovely?" Raphael cooed, his body pressing you into the mattress. "Aren't you so sweet to me? So accommodating, so soft, so deliciously pliant."

He went gentle at first, slow and methodical strokes, not abrupt or hard as you'd feared (or hoped), and you would have screamed if your throat wasn't dead, screamed in bliss, but instead you lay perfectly still under his massive weight, perfectly happy to be suffocated this way, a burden you were always meant to bear.

So many times you've had to fake excitement, moans, orgasms, and the one time you really didn't have to fake anything, you couldn't do anything, all you could do was lie there and enjoy the sensation of being taken. 

It felt so good to be so naked and so helpless. You hoped he liked being inside you as much as you liked having him inside you, because you'd gladly spend every evening of your life lying beneath him.

You listened to his breath, how it quickened with each plunge of his cock, his low grunts, the beads of sweat trickling down your skin, his or yours, you were not sure. 

He thrust in and out of you and you wanted to rub your clit so badly. You never came just from a cock without rubbing your clit. Some women just can't, you read it, not wired that way, not built that way. 

“Do not doubt yourself. I know better what you're capable of; you would be surprised. I will show you."

He picked up the pace now, his hips rolling against your backside, testing the limits of how hard you could take it; the limit being as hard as he wanted to give it to you. 

You were so eager for this orgasm, so sure it would be mind-shattering (what was there left to shatter?), so sure it would be the way it was always supposed to be, the way it was promised to you in all those stories and movies, but it never was quite that. 

Each thrust brought that promise closer. He hovered over you on one elbow; the claws of his other hand tickled your side, from the edge of your thigh to the outline of your breast. 

"You've already done so much for me, my little mouse, and you've done so well. Opened the door to this wonderful, powerful world," Raphael said, but his words suddenly lost all meaning except for the fact that it was his voice and he was moving on top of you. "I owe you a thanks and I do promise to repay you in kind."

Then it came, it came, his cock bringing it to you, drilling it into you, thrusting it into you, pushing it into you, giving it to you, that foamy heaviness building to an explosion of pure distilled pleasure. 

There you were, in its eye, feeling the violent trembling of your legs, drenched in a pool of sweat forming beneath you, your drool on the pillow, orgasm twisting your insides into a knot. 

In that moment, right there, everything clicked into place and you finally got it.

Why everything revolved around sex, or its promise, or its danger. Why people wanted to ban it, shut it down forever, exorcise it, control it, and how terribly right they were (and how terribly wrong).

Why it's all about that.

The veil that hung over the world was pushed inwards, and you started seeing things that were not there, yes, but also the things you could not see before.

You were falling into a very dark, very black and very long abyss, euphoric, life-altering - and life-threatening - and you hoped that this fall would never end, but it did end, it ended in blackness, in nothingness, except for the last words:

"But know this, my little mouse

your work for me

is not yet 

done”.

[redson-lmk]

Our world? Well, we got a super long history. That's for sure, haha! And friends from different lands. Such as... Hope! He goes by hope because hes a part of the Bearers Of Unity, and his element is Hope.

Here's everyone else in his group! [presents a photo]

[interestingly, besides their MK having blue streaks, is that everyone shares their colors in some way.]

[MK's blue streaks match the hedgehog's quills, the pony's main hair color is the same as the markings on the hedgehog. The pony's yellow streaks match the hybrid's blonde hair, and his dark brown hair streaks match MK's natural hair color.]

[... Something greater is at play with them, isn't it...?]

Anyway... I got an entire history book on this cause I know Hope loves rereading it!

Why not give us a proper refresher, then? If you got it on hand.

Okay! [pulls out book]

*ahem*

It was like a spark soared through the empty, limitless sky.

Nüwa created reality itself, letting her essence spawn the first beings into existence alongside her.

Time was formed, beauty was seen, and five creations were granted a time stone to watch over.

The oni, the dragon, the sun princess, the moon princess, and the paradox prism all took their stones and began to grow their worlds from the ground up.

However, it wasn't always this peaceful. Chaos and Harmony erupted into war between the lands.

Although divided, some maintained good relations with likeminded beings to them. The lands of Equestria and Ninjago stuck together, meanwhile the lands of Mobius and Megapolis chose to side.

It was only when Nüwa created the stone animals and planted them into their respective stones that the first guardians had been born.

The sun and moon had been formed, letting Princess Celestia and Princess Luna rotate them around the planet.

War unfortunately broke out between some of the guardians, forcing Prism to fracture them between reality and scatter their souls across space time.

But with peace soon restored, the first spinjitzu master was born from the oni and dragon's forbidden love. He created the sixteen realms around the one he resided in himself, deciding to pass down his power and the two time stones onto his new sons, Wu and Garmadon.

Unfortunately, a darkness overtook Garmadon one day, reawakening his dormant oni side. The brothers fought, and in the end... Wu was forced to banish his brother into the Underworld.

The darkness then reached Princess Luna, cursing her into Nightmare Moon. Celestia had no choice but to create the Elements of Harmony and use these powerful artifacts to banish her brother to the moon. The guardian of the moon, Chang'e, watched over the cursed princess to keep her from causing harm onto the Earth.

But within Megapolis, the brotherhood was formed. A group of freedom fighters going against the Jade Emperor, only to fail. The self proclaimed monkey king, Sun-Wukong, was imprisoned in the mountain for 500 years.

More kingdoms began to form within the worlds of chaos, trying to establish order. Princess Celestia even offered to help build relations between the sides of chaos, finally bridging the gap and realizing they weren't so different after all.

Wukong was soon released, being taken on a journey of redemption through the teachings of his master. As time passed, he drifted away from his old goals of destruction... Leading for him to clash with his sworn brother, Macaque. The two fought, the stone monkey and shadow monkey being evenly matched.

That is... Until the shadows grew unstable and out of control. One thing led to another, and he was dead.

Wukong quietly disappeared after that day, never to be seen again... Leaving him as only a legend.

But within these worlds and lands, a darkness remained on the horizon. Yet... Four sparks tore through the clouds one day, tying the four destined ones together. And in time, they would appear...

... Still never getting over how messily organized the book is.

Hey! This is the more abridged version of the book itself with the in-depth version right after, but that'd take too long!

Of course it is, you peasant!

Flame's right. It's confusing, but I understand at the same time.

[honeii-puff]

Was still outside of reach of him

Seven years later, Rayla and Callum arrive at the town of Redwater to meet with Amaya and Ezran. Read on ao3!

The trip to the town of Redwater went about as smooth as it could’ve, to Rayla’s contemptment.  

Especially with two squirming toddlers in tow on the back of Ethari’s shadowpaw, Eclipse, while her husband flew beside them. After months and months, they’d be seeing Ez and Amaya again. They tried to make it a yearly tradition, going to each other, but this year, they found the Redwater, which lived on the border of Xadia and The Five Kingdoms.

It made travel a lot easier on all of them, being a more reachable distance for all parties.

She knew the twins would enjoy the new environment, too.

Callum scooped Juno up into his arms after they landed, blowing a raspberry against her cheek and causing the two-year-old to giggle.

Rayla smiled at the two of them, shifting Scout to balance on her hip. He sneezed, his eyes squinty due to the sun.

“You think Ez and Aunt Amaya are here yet?” He asked her, glancing around. They were just outside the town, and a few people were milling about, minding their own.

“They might be.” She stroked Eclipse’ forehead, who purred deeply in response. “Ez said he was leaving earlier than us in his last letter, so he might be. New Lux Aurea isn’t all that far from here, either.”

“True.” Callum looked at the dirt path, which slowly transitioned into stone as it got closer to the town. “And we have everything?”

Rayla laughed. “Yes, Callum. We have everything. You checked. Twice.” She looked back at Eclipse “I’ll call you back when we have to leave.” She gave the shadowpaw one last pet before he snorted and flew off.

“He go bye-bye.” Juno giggled, pointing at Eclipse as he soared off.

“Into sky!” Scout splayed his arms out and joined in on the giggling, making Rayla and Callum smile. Their laughs were very cute, and very contagious.

They started walking down the dirt path to the village. People walked the streets, both human and elf.

It was wonderful to see. Even though humans and elves were mostly at peace now, their communities hadn’t really merged.

Except here.

They quickly located the inn, which had a wooden sign out front that read Blauders Hometown Inn and Pub. The inside was bustling and welcome, with wooden floors and walls with half-finished murals filling them. The man behind the bar greeted them kindly and provided them with a room for a few coins.

“What’s going on with the murals?” Rayla asked him.

“One of the classes from the school is doing an art project. Happens every year around town.” The man, who they found out was Blauder, grinned. “Brightens Redwater every year.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Callum looked back at the murals.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy yer stay. Plenty of wonderful things here. You should check out The Dragonfly.”

She raised her eyebrows, a bit intrigued. “What’s that?”

“Local bakery. My bud runs it. Great guy. Wonderful daughter, too.”

“Do they have jelly tarts?” Callum grinned.

“Jelly tarts, croissants, cupcakes, and these things he called Banther Claws that are filled with peanut butter. My wife loves ‘em.”

“We’ll have to check that out with Ez.” He nudged Rayla with his arm.

“Jelly tarts!” Scout exclaimed, smiling widely.

Blauder grinned. “Alright, you folks have a good one.”

“You too.” Rayla nodded, and the four of them headed up the wooden stairs to the second floor of the inn. The room was a few doors down the hall, and inside was tastefully decorated, with a baby blue quilt on a queen sized bed, two wooden side tables with a lamp on each, and a small dresser.

“Alright, so we’re putting these chaos monkeys down first?” Callum flipped Juno upside down, causing the toddler to laugh hysterically. “Daddyyyyy!”

“Yeah. I might hang back for a bit, make sure they’re settled.” In reality, Rayla was exhausted, and was hoping to get a bit of shut-eye with Juno and Scout.

If they actually decided to sleep was a whole different situation.

He kissed the side of her head, putting Juno on the bed. “I’ll go and find Ez and Aunt Amaya. You sure you want to stay?”

“Yeah.” She ruffled his hair before kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll catch up with you guys after they nap.”

“Alright. Love you.” He smiled at her

“Love you too, dork.”

“I’m your dork.”

[newkatzkafe2023]

ITS MEEEE IM BACK WITH THE MILK!! THIS ADHD GIRL BACK :33

An S/O (Female) of the Monkey King's (Like reader is girlfriend of the different Monkey Kings), who acts and haves the personality of the first chapter of bfb like FOUR from Bfdi, but they have the same behaviour that Four once had when they made their first appearence in the show, yk, Powerful, Literally Destroys and screechs everything that just breathes the air in a slightly wrong way. How each one will react?

I literally love Four and X and i had to make an request about something similar to Four.

God... i imagine how troublemaker and powerful the Reader willbe with the powers of four, yet they dont know it since they are too dumb to realize (like four)

I love bfdi (Battle for dream island) <333

BTWW HII!! ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I REQUESTED AND SRRY, I WAS STUCK PLAYING COOKIE RUN AND STUFF...

______ (literally an interaction)

Random ahh person: "Y/N can you quit your shenanigans and help-"

*The reader lit screeches and makes them pass out*

*Wukong looking all the interaction and how their girlfriend just screeches everyone who even exists in a wrong way*

"D:"

I watched some of this and it's Hilarious and I love his character already🤣

(Lmk Wukong) this is totally him when he has to deal with you. You guys meet in the JTTW and immediately something was very unusual about you. When he aggressively Confronted you the first the thing you did was Screech at him and he woke up on the floor. He was then after that very weary of you after that. Strange things happened around Us in the group after that people even made a legend around us. Even to this day he still doesn't quite get you and your aura but he loves you for it although to the outside looking in people can sense that their is something dark about you for example Macaque and Sandy.

(MKR Wukong) Yooooooooo your Marriage is so Chaotic and Unusual that you make him For once want to be a responsible person. Your antics are so unpredictable that even The monk doesn't know your next mood. And you have stun people with your Screeching and it was funny until it happened to him. And more weird things have happened around you such as stretching your limbs, you bing able to manifest out of thin air and warp and mutilate demons from a distance. You love scaring both Pigsy and Sandy but you love Wukong and Fruity. But There is very dark thing about you and it worries the monk even after the journey.

(HIB Wukong) You....You are a terrible influence to both Luier and Silly girl Especially Silly girl. Silly girl screeches alot thanks to you and Luier is asking even more questions then ever with every Chaotic phenomena and he has to find some way to deal with it. But on the bright side You care very much for him and the kids but he always finds some interesting about you and it frightens and enlightens him.

(NR Wukong) Chaos Chaos CHAOS PEOPLE🤯🤯🤯. Wukong is tamed compared to you. From your Random Screeching to you weird quirks and abilities to the crazy sh*t you say and ask and do. He loves it but it slowly starts to disturb him because you seem to be unaware of what you can do and of what happens around you. And he if starts to get Careful and cautious of you well.... that's when Li and Su become alarmed by you as well.

(Netflix Wukong) He can match your energy like a puzzle piece. He quickly learns that you love to play games and are quite the free spirit and the best part is you never judge him on what he says and do. In fact you totally encourage it but Lin quickly points out our rather unusual life. We of course never give her a Straight answer on to what's going on but she's worried and a little suspicious of you. But As for Wukong he loves spending every day with you and loves your quirky self Sure he can do without the screeching , but he doesn't want you to ever change.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

hi guys!

so it's come to my attention that this whole few series might be a little confusing to read in a particular order so I'm just gonna try and narrow the explanation down a little bit...

so in order to probably understand monkey's personality first i would read a few bits from chaos fc which starts of as an aussie pest and an english pest who are best friends and love to cause chaos together!

these 5 fics are based around their time in melbourne and what they get up too

↪ i'm never babysittin' again! | mission: chaos fc | yer' a pair of pests! | wheres' dumb and dumber? | come get yer' kid!

from there there's a few fic's that follow on from this with monkey's different adventures in scotland and nashville, where's up to no good as usual

↪ wee' bit of haggis in scotland | yeehaw' it's cowgirl era | you can kiss my ass, cowboy!

following on from these if you want to read more about monkey's past then i suggest reading a lot of reserved feelings which kinda goes into the small details about monkey's reserved side when she first moved in with leah and jordan

there is also a bunch of head canons and blurbs that are related to this as well which will help to understand monkey's past better in monkey's background and i think it is also briefly mentioned in monkey moves in

after this i would recommend reading the separate mini series in which this introduces buddy and it gives a bit of an insight into what she is like and how she handles the separation between her two mums but this is wrote around the same time as monkey returns from her adventures in nashville

there's several more head canons/blurbs that are related to buddy through the time before she was born in ivf and pregnancy and and and even the introduction between monkey meeting buddy for the first time

if you wanted to read about the gender reveal of buddy then i would recommend the flashback fic to finding out the gender of buddy in oh baby! which is in the buddy & monkey series where monkey is so excited about it

the whole buddy and monkey: double the trouble series is pretty self explanatory and it's mostly about the two of them and the adventures they get up too, together

however, there's a few i would recommend reading together which would be the bubbles are pink, jackass! and then the farmyard adventures since that follows on from the swear jar fiasco

from there there's a couple of fics that are not really planned to go in any particular order which are buddy's first words as well as no more money for monkey and we brought a puppy home

there's also a good couple of head canons and blurbs related to this series the break up | euro final | buddy cheering monkey up | zoo adventures | training days | kimmy the babysitter

also the social media aspect of it which is reunited again and monkey's lioness debut

following along with the head canons and blurbs there's several in chaos fc which can be read in any particular order as well leah being drunk | making a fool of herself | monkey encouraging leah to drink more | monkey winding leah up the morning | captain kimmy & monkey blurb | england call up | media duties with monkey & kyra and continental cup celebrations

the four most current ones at the minute are the glastonbury mini series following onto both parts of whoa, we're going to ibiza I and whoa, we're going to ibiza II then from that its' my most current work which is the the haunting nightmares of the past

i hope this somewhat helps and it's not incredibly confusing to read now - there's more to come for all this so i will update this as and when i can!

and as always if you have any questions about anything then please feel free to continue to ask me anything whether it's anonymous or not, i love answering questions about this chaotic pair! 💗

[cherllyio]

MK goes apeshit - three four short stories of how MK goes Apeshit

Story 2 - Prolouge: Erlang vs MK

IMPORTANT: you dont need to read story 1 to understand this

Hundreds of years ago Erlang had fought a demon.

A demon which had brought chaos and destruction to the heavens.

A demon which had stolen their peaches, wine and hurt so many of their own, while everyone had helplessly watched.

Everyone, expect Erlang.

He had fought the demon and won, made It crawl beneath his feet until it enably had gotten trapped under a mountain by The Buddha himself.

Erlang had been praised, especially by his uncle, The Jade Emperor, and everything had seemed to be of order again.

Yet now… it was happening again, and of course by the same godamn demon’s successor…

 …

Erlang must say though, he was fooled too.

He had after all met the that same “successor”, the one they called “MK”.

The first time he had come across him was in The Celestial Realm.

Like everybody else there, Erlang was there because of the Jade Emperors recent passing, but more importantly, what they were to do with The Jade Emperors powers. Maybe the distractions from that were why he hadn’t seen what that a monster it truly was…

Sure, Erlang, had heard rumors about a supposed “Successor to The Monkey King”, but that’s all he thought it was, Rumors.

Yet, there he had been, standing and talking to his mentor.

It had taking him by surprise that the great sage would have a successor, based on past experiences with him. But the thing that shocked him the most was how “normal” the kid was. He just looked like any other hyperactive mortal fanboy; he hadn’t even bothered wearing something proper for this very serious event. He looked incredibly out of place and everyone there knew it.

Judging looks and quiet gossip would be spoken when he walked past, but would quickly die out again, when the great sage would quickly walk past right after.

Erlang did though have one conversation with him… and that sure was interesting…

It wasn’t because of what the “Kid” had said, but more about what he had “done”. He didn’t even know if “successor” was aware of it himself, but Erlang could feel the very fate of universe shifting and rotating as they were speaking.

And in the middle of it… “MK”.

Owing to that fact Erlang had tried to use hid third eye, yet it only gave him back something even more confusing.

Something… shifting. Like a clock that keeps ticking forward but will never show the same time again.

As mentioned earlier, it might had been because of the situation he had met “MK” in, that he hadn’t reacted sooner….

Because now, he was standing in front of that same “Kid”, sword in hand and with an army of celestial of warriors behind him.

Now they called him “The Harbinger of Chaos”, a much more fitting name if Erlang must say.

A thousand of meter tall monkey demon, whom “was able to change the very fate of the universe”, they said through quiet gossips filled with fear.

Erlang didn’t fear him though.

And oh, how he would regret that…

_______________________

Short Summary - "What the FUCK Wukong, you had a CHILD?!"

Story 1 - The Traitor

Story 2 - Prolouge: MK vs Erlang

Story 3(work in process) - Erlang VS The Harbinger of Chaos

I decided to change it into 4 short stories, instead of 3, since i realised that MK's and Erlangs dynamic is too interesting NOT to talk about.