#and the best family fr

[alchemical-rhapsodaire]

Before Roier, Jaiden, and everyone else said their final goodbyes to Bobby, they all went on an adventure to the dungeon where Bobby died together. It was like Bobby was there along with them, on one final adventure.

Bobby loved adventures.

Rest in peace Bobby.

Thank you for everything.

[fanaticalthings]

Jason Todd with his goons:

[nicolacoughlan]

THE WITCHER: SEASON THREE Episode 1: Shaerrawedd

[geniemillies]

Velaria, Daughter of Night, Starlight Princess. 'She, the Star who listened 💫'

i finish another oc piece for my fiiiic :D where rhys' sister is alive and thriving in hybern thanks to a certain blondie. she is besties with niamh and they spy and scheme to take down the tyrannical monarchy together (🤨🏳‍🌈??) she is named after the court of dreams, and was princess of Velaris before her 'death'. ironic name bc she is done dreaming..

i draw more than i write chapters cryiiing, save me and actually scold me into writing T-T spoiler alert she will also commit revolution in the nc bc im sick of that place. my girls are all schemers and plotters they really said down with the government (but im not that far ahead yet..)

[fablexdreams]

Rip Ben Finn, you would have loved eating cereal at 3am.

Rip Page, you would have loved debate club.

Rip Walter Beck, you would have loved the found family trope.

Rip Jasper, you would have loved the Scrub Daddy.

Rip Reaver, you would have loved red carpets and glambots.

Rip Sparrow, you would have loved a fucking break.

Rip Theresa, you would have loved The Sims.

Rip Logan, you would have loved Lexapro.

Rip HoBW, you would have loved pop music.

[stormyy-bluezz01]

pov: anya and yor

[crabs-with-sticks]

Finding out that somebody online is also from Aotearoa is a terrifying experience, because we're all only two degrees of separation away from each other in this fuckin country and that is far too high of a probability of a random person on the internet who sees me posting fanfiction knowing my parents irl.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

eddie meeting shannon, who later become one of his best friends, over a lake and finding her in every body of water is kinda fucked up when you think about his best friend and his son being caught in a tsunami of the same body of water he went to seek solace at after she died

[im-still-watching-anime]

naruto: do you ever think about how kakashi-sensei acts more like our dad than our teacher?

sasuke, thinking about fugaku: don’t be stupid he’s way too nice to us to be like a dad

[keyslox]

"She's not going anywhere with you.."

[mooncello]

my favorite marauders fics are those that imagine these messy gay wizards raising harry. like...james and reg as harry's parents. yes. barty babysitting harry and having no fucking clue how to entertain a five year old. yes. remus affectionally sharing with harry his extensive vinyl collection. hell yes. sirius taking an angsty harry to get his first piercing (and, later, provide teenage harry's first joint - hand-rolled obv). yessss.

throw out everything effing jkr created in canon and remake it better, gayer, happier. these wizards don't die tragic deaths. they live.

i'd read seven books of that.

[kaiiscottage]

꒰when the adopted daughter raised by queer parents grows old <3꒱ྀི

[qkrovv]

[japeneselunchtimerush]

Never let this die please.

[deeplovelydark]

deep space nine s05e12 // saturn devouring his son by francisco goya // ivan the terrible and his son ivan by ilya repin

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Wassup folks I was having thoughts about Macaque and ended up writing a ficlet using said scattered thoughts about his character. enjoy o7

Wordcount: 2k

.

Macaque wasn’t a very complicated person. If anything, he thought himself rather simple. 

He liked what he liked, and he didn’t like what he didn’t like. He wanted three main things, and couldn’t imagine wanting anything more. 

Macaque wanted food. 

More specifically, he wanted fruit. He loved fruit. Having food was an important part of being happy. He knew well that being happy without food in your stomach was a difficult thing. He was especially fond of the sweetness and tartness fruits would give him. He loved to eat it, loved to find the best crab-apples, plums, apricots, tangerines, and peaches, to pick them out one by one and triumphantly show them off before peeling them or shoving them directly into his mouth. He didn’t mind digging for melons that were hiding under leaves, or hunting for sugar-cane and peeling off the outer layer with his teeth for the sweet bits inside, or climbing high up to get coconuts and smash them onto rocks to open them up. Shi Hou had smashed a coconut on his own head once, splitting it in half and getting the milk inside in his fur. “Like a rock, see?” he had declared proudly. Macaque remembered hiding his face in his arm to disguise his laugh.

2. Macaque wanted the sun. 

Contrary to what a lot of humans, and even sometimes other creatures assumed, one of Macaque’s favorite things to do was nap in the sun. His fur was dark, his natural form of magic gravitated towards things like shadows and places under rocks no one could see, so many assumed he would prefer to spend his time in dark places and away from light. Macaque rather thought the opposite. He believed his affinity to shadows and dark cold places were the very thing that drove him into the sun to shake that uncomfortable chill from his bones and feel soft sweet sunlight on his skin. He loved nothing more than a nap in the soft grass with a light breeze, his stomach full of fruit and the gentle warmth of the sun touching his face and soaking into his fur. The only time he enjoyed shade falling over his face was when he looked up to find another source of light beaming down at him with the promise of mischief in its eyes.  3. (And rather most importantly,) Macaque wanted his friend. 

His best friend. His only friend really; Shi Hou, later named Sun Wukong. Without him, the fruit was less sweet, the sunlight was cooler, and Macaque was sure he would be less happy. Before, Shi Hou, fruit and the sun had been enough, but after knowing him, being near him, and following him into all sorts of fun and chaos, Macaque couldn’t imagine being happy without him. He was a second sun, a light in all the shadows and dark places Macaque used to hide. He was his best and only friend, the person Macaque would pick out of hundreds to spend time with. The only one who could drag him out of his solitude to be with the other monkeys and join in on the fun. Sun Wukong was his person, and it made him happy to know it was just the two of them against the world.

Until it wasn’t. 

Intruding on his happiness came demons, celestials, and every other groveling insect that crawled out of the bush to beg for his friends' time as Sun Wukong started to seek more power. It was fine at first, he made time for Macaque. The extra power felt nice, the reputation he started to build meant no one bothered them. He was gone now and again for increasing periods of time, but most of the time Macaque was with him, and he always came back so it didn’t matter. 

(Until it did. Until he was gone for years.)

It was fine until those three joined the brotherhood: Azure Lion, Golden Peng, Yellow-Tusk... They pushed their way in and sat at the table, taking up space and Sun Wukong’s attention. But that wasn’t what really annoyed Macaque. Shi Hou always made time for him, always listened when he spoke, which wasn’t often around the brotherhood. No, what annoyed Macaque the most was the wars they spoke of. The battles they laughed about, the glory they spoke of to Sun Wukong until his eyes seemed to sparkle, something a little ugly underneath the awe; want, but not the good kind. What annoyed Macaque was how enamored Wukong was by it all. Rebellion, they spoke of. Pushed forward by bravado, Wukong left and came back with stories that made Macaque’s hands curl into tight fists and his fur stand on end. Talk of challenging even the Jade Emperor. 

Isn’t this enough? Macaque thought again and again. Isn’t the fruit and the sun and me and you enough? We’re immortal now, isn’t this enough? But Sun Wukong was not Macaque. He was never satisfied once he’d seen the other side, once he’d had a taste of heavenly wine, once he’d sunk his teeth into the flesh of immortal stonefruit with juices sweeter than honey, nothing in the mortal world could compare. The peaches Macaque picked for him would never be enough. Macaque would never be enough next to Celestials and people who would never see Sun Wukong like Macaque did. He wanted a bigger title, sweeter fruit, “a better way of life,” he said, “for both of us.” 

Sun Wukong slipped a celestial peach into Macaque’s hands and he could do nothing but stare at it and wonder how what they had wasn’t enough for him. 

“I’ve seen things,” Sun Wukong said to him one night, the rest of the brotherhood passed out at the table. “The world is so much bigger than this, Lui’er. They laughed at me--at us.” 

“Why does it matter what they think?” Macaque had asked. 

Sun Wukong stayed silent. 

Macaque closed his eyes and tried not to think about how his friend felt more and more distant on nights like these. He tried not to think about his own hand in pushing him to this place. 

After everything, the brotherhood disbanded easily. The nights spent in camaraderie, the talk of glory, the hands on Sun Wukong’s shoulder and pushing him to the forefront of the chaos, praising him as a leader and their King meant nothing the moment he was under the mountain. They scattered like dust in the wind and, as it was in the beginning, Macaque was the only one left.

Sun Wukong was angry. After the initial I-told-you-so that resulted in Sun Wukong screaming at him, Macaque didn’t say much. He tried to keep his visits light. He tried to bring him things, tried to keep him company, but his old friend would accept none of it, his hands clenched, his eyes alight with boiling, barely contained rage and hate. It wasn’t directed at Macaque, but he still sat a distance away. He understood why so many feared him, but Macaque never had. It felt unnatural. 

Sun Wukong had plenty to say on his own, filling the silence and Macaque’s six ears with threats of vengeance and violence that made him turn away and want desperately to press his hands over his ears or stick his head into the waterfall back home so the seething sounds of Sun Wukong's anger could be drowned out. 

Secretly, privately, quietly, a small part of Macaque was glad for the chains and the mountain that held him down. He hoped it would be enough to calm his friends' anger and allow him time to cool down, time to think and see that there were more important things than power, that it didn’t matter what others thought of them so long as they had fruit, the sun and each other. But to his disappointment, nothing changed. No matter how many days passed, Sun Wukong’s rage remained, simmering and hot. It got quieter. Less threats and more growling and silently glowering until Macaque was sure he’d burn a hole right through the chains that held him captive with his glare alone. 

Inevitably, eventually Sun Wukong directed his anger towards the only available target; his best friend and the one person who hadn’t abandoned him the moment he’d lost everything. The one person who came to check on him and visit in the place with no sunshine where the chill would cling to bone even hours after exiting. 

Macaque took it for a long while. He understood there was nothing for him to do but rage and snap and insult. He understood the bitterness. Or at least he thought he did. He’d let him rage at him and blame him for it all, being trapped, being useless. He let him call him things and lash out at him even though it hurt because he thought it might make it better. He’d take it until his hands shook and he’d have to exhale to steady himself and leave through a portal, Sun Wukong yelling obscenities behind him. He’d always come back and act like nothing happened until Sun Wukong started all over and Macaque would sit until he couldn’t take anymore, leave and then come back later and repeat the process all over again. 

But even a stone wore down eventually, and Macaque was far from as firm and unyielding as stone. His friend’s words chipped away at him little by little until he snapped back, angry at him for not opening his eyes and seeing where they were, why they were there in the first place. Furious at him for being angry at everyone and everything but himself, the real reason he was chained under a mountain and uselessly screaming threats at the cavern as if the echos would carry into the Celestial Court. He was angry at him for looking at Macaque and deciding he wasn’t enough. 

“I did it for YOU--for US!” Sun Wukong roared at him.  

And maybe it had started that way. Maybe it had been for him once. For them. Or maybe Macaque had turned a blind eye to the lies that had always been there. Maybe Sun Wukong had always been self-centred and selfish and Macaque was too stupid to see it. 

He snapped back, because Sun Wukong was trapped, he was trapped and so he would sit and he would listen. He would hear every word he’d ignored, every warning Macaque had tried to give him, every accusation and hurt Macaque felt, he would hear it all and he would listen.

Macaque called him a demon. Like so many others before, every Celestial and human they’d come into contact with, he called him a demon. But unlike the others, Sun Wukong didn’t stretch his shoulder and let it roll off his back. Instead, his jaw dropped. His eyes widened. He reacted in a way Macaque had never seen him before. He saw him react and all he could think was ‘good.’ 

It was all a bit of a blur after. He couldn’t remember a lot of what he said. He stumbled and leaned against a tree. His hands were shaking, his arms were trembling. His feet were unsteady under him. They’d never fought like that before. A lot of it was a blur but Sun Wukong's last words, banishing him from returning ran clear in his ears. And that alone made him bitter enough to close his shadow portal and decide then and there he was never going back. 

Macaque had only ever wanted three things, but now? He didn’t know what he wanted. 

A lot happened after that. Bad things. Things he would rather not remember, but one thing was certain. The Six-Eared Macaque as he was, without the Monkey King was vulnerable. He was weak. He was all alone and many preyed on him simply for his association with the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.  

So Macaque did all he could think of to do. 

He built up a wall, a persona of sorts. He needed to become someone else, someone they couldn’t hurt so easily. He needed to become loud rather than quiet, brash rather than nervous, scary rather than soft. He needed to become someone no one would mess with or dare linger around. He needed to become someone powerful enough to say no. Someone who didn’t want things as stupid and simple as naps in the sun and sweet fruit handpicked from trees and being around friends. He needed to become someone who didn’t care. 

But who could he mirror? Who’s confidence and brashness could he channel? Who’s lack of care for the people around them could he mimic and hold close and make himself believe he felt? Who’s personality could he take and warp into what he remembered, vicious and hurtful and power hungry? Who’s weapon could he replicate and clench in his hand when he felt an inkling of care for people who wouldn’t care for him when it really counted? Who could he mimic to become someone else who didn’t want simple things like holding hands with a best friend and picking fruit until they smiled? 

Why Sun Wukong of course. 

The most selfish person he knew. 

(note: please don't slander sun wukong in the notes Macaque's opinions do not reflect the my own regarding the great sage equaling heaven-- hGLS;KJFD)