#ear’s drabbles

[eiraeths]

soap gets sepsis from a gsw to abdomen. they’re stranded without exfil for some time, and it becomes a race to beat the ticking clock of soap’s approaching death. the team takes turns trying to keep him awake, talking to him and patting him up despite his grumbled protests. at one point gaz just asks what will make him most comfortable—thinking of hospice-like care because exfil is still so far out and soap is getting worse and worse—and soap, who’s usually too self conscious/shameful to admit how tactile he is, but with the sepsis clouding his brain, thought process several steps behind what it usually is, he just grabs gaz’s hand. from that point on whoever is with him has some point of body contact with him. ghost takes to holding soap against his chest and carding a gloved hand through soap’s sweat soaked hair.

[pixxlotl]

Going with the "Grian is the one who designed this game as opposed to the others" headcanon, it makes you think about the superpowers he gave his friends, how they were all laughing and having fun in the beginning, and that was intentional. It goes to show that even when forced to design the death game his friends are put through (a punishment for trying to usurp the Watchers time and time again), he still cares. They all know he's the one who designed this game, and he hopes they realize the little mercies he's giving them.

He gives Cleo the power to bring people back from the dead, just so he can have a chance to see his best friend again.

He gives Pearl the power to fly, and hopes she appreciates having her wings back, if only for a short time.

Jimmy gets to go invisible because Grian knows the Watchers aren't happy with the curse being broken. He wants to protect him.

As for Martyn? Grian doesn't really know a lot about what's going on with him and the Listeners, but he might as well try to strengthen that connection in the little ways he can without arising suspicion.

He says it himself in the beginning, "let's not forget this is a PVP series," but it sounds hollow even to his own ears. It's pandering to the watching eyes, making them think the lighthearted fun is all unintentional.

He falls out of the sky with the wings he gave to Pearl, and he wonders if the Watchers are starting to catch on.

[moechies]

toji 𝓍 bunnie ૮ ˃̵ ˂̵ აㅤㅤㅤ

toji who grabs his little bunnie gf by the scuff of her tail to pull her onto him.

“bunny, come sit on it.”

“ouuuch ! toji, stop it! hurts..!”

“heh, sorry bunny. c’mere.”

it happens so quickly. you had just been sprawled across the sheets, playing on your phone before you were rudely interrupted by a desperate old man, in need of some assistance.

“sit on my cock, honey. w’na feel you.”

“y-you’re so crude , toji .” you frown, but in no way do you take your time tugging off his pants. his cock springs up almost immediately , the hard shaft slapping against his tummy causing a blunt noise.

“s’ hard toji . .”

your mouth waters at the sight, holding the fat girth in the small of your hand. your hands don’t fully wrap around him, nearly an inch left of cock that gapes in between your fingers. his digits reach to pull the crotch of your panties aside, quickly pulling you directly above him, making you hover over his cock head.

“mm,” he hums, “don’t make me do it all , work yourself on it doll.” he teases, coming up to tug at your fluffy ear.

“s-stop it !” you whine, making him laugh. it’s hard to work him with no prep, the sloppy tip of his cock immediately stretching the fat folds of your cunt. it burns , but you’re soothed over by the sweet circles rubbed into your skin to pace you.

“t-too hard, why’re s’hard . . mmf—“

“y’were swayin’ yer ass all over the place. how could i not be, bunny? don’t be so naive.” he grunts, watching intently as his pudgy tip slides in and out of your chubby walls.

“i wasn’t, toji ! y-you’re such a perv!”

he laughs breathily , hoisting you above his cock before slamming you down completely. you scream and thrash at the unpreparing stretch, round tail fluttering as hairs on your fluffy ears stand.

“oh, bun.”

his fingers sneak behind your butt to fidget and tug on the fur of your tail once again, but this time, you’re too lost in a haze to pay it any mind,

“that, i am.”

[aennasan]

Imagine being so drunk that Kenji Sato’s solution to stopping you from wandering around, or accidentally breaking your neck, was to let you straddle his lap. Face to face, chest so close you can hear each other’s heartbeat, to the point that he can smell the strong alcohol on your breath.

However, he doesn't have any time to think and enjoy the feeling because despite being restrained to his lap, one of his hands holding your hips steady— you were holding your glass too loose. He was afraid that you would let it go, spill the content and hurt yourself. Yet, you refuse to give it to him, holding his injured shoulder with your free hand, restraining him, squeezing it— if so much he moves to grab your glass.

After some time of you struggling, giggling and moving your glass out of his reach, he gave up and just decided to lean back on the chair. Letting fate decide whatever.

He watched as you hummed and chugged the remaining content of your glass. Satisfied that you won. All he could do was chuckle at your antics as you stretched your body, trying to reach out for the bottle to refill your glass.

He thought you were amusing as you tried your best to fill your glass with a frown and uninterrupted focus since you claimed the bottle kept moving away when in truth it was you who were not steady.

It was all fun and games until the inevitable happened and you spilled the bottle of alcohol not on your glass but to his shirt. You were lucky that his reflexes were fast, that he was able to move you in time, and it was only your leg that was caught. He immediately grabbed hold of his shirt, lifted it up to remove it, and used it to tap and dry the sticky aftermath of your drunk clumsiness.

While Kenji was busy trying to clean you up, your eyes were not concerned with what you just did. Instead your eyes were wandering around his half naked body. Especially, your eyes boring into that toned chest of his.

You're not sure what exactly they called it— Intrusive thoughts? But you just did whatever came into your mind while looking at it.

Kenji Sato squealed like a girl in surprise when he felt your soft hands, squeezing both of his chest tightly. Not once, not twice, but squeezing until he caught both of your hands and firmly told you to stop.

You were breathing heavily, cheeks dusted in pink— your expression mirroring his, except to his wide eyes, which runs thousands of thoughts, trying to digest what you just did.

You were sure one of them, however, is not allowing you to drink this bad ever again.

read part 2: here

[lotusarchon]

may i have some husband Macaque x wife reader NSFW and SFW? *swirls hair and burps shyly*

little did she know i'm a nasty dog (macaque x reader)

content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), fluff, wholesome husband + wife marriage, nsfw, minors + ageless blogs DNI, macaque being himself, p in v sex, table sex, implied breeding kink

author's notes: god i hate macaque and then this is me to my friend about him (yes that real ones will know this is my genuine reaction towards a macaque edit)

Macaque's arms wrap around your sides, his chin resting on your shoulder. The gesture is affectionate―hands squeezing your hips, a low hum from a new play he's working on in your ear, and he says nothing but watch you place cookie batter on a pan.

He does think he's lucky enough to have you, someone so kind and sweet. He does think he's happy enough that he's earned someone who willingly loves him for all his flaws and all.

(Wukong would like to argue attempted murder isn't a flaw, but what he would know? He's always been a weirdo anyway.)

He likes watching you cook, though. There's something about you wearing an apron, darting back and forth in the kitchen, humming the same tune he sings with flour on your face and your hair in disarray, that paints a scenery he just loves.

But there's always something that feels like it's missing. Something that would make this scenery complete.

Macaque pulls away from behind you, allowing you to slip past and finish the rest of the cookies you're making. He leans back against the table, observing the slight swish of your skirts as you bend over and place the rest of the cookies into the oven with a satisfied smile.

He stares, and stares, for quite a long time….

And it hits him.

Oh, we don't have a little one.

“Macaque?” You glance his way, a smile he wishes to paint etched on your lips. Your face looks warm from the oven heat, and there's still some dough left on your cheek from your hurrying. “You alright there? You've been acting kinda strange lately.”

You frown, brows furrowed while approaching him. He allows you to close the distance, pressing a hand against his forehead. He finds the way you pout to be just as adorable.

“Huh. No fever…did you run into Wukong or something?”

Silently, he shakes his head, amused at your worrying. Your hand trails from his forehead to his eye, thumb caressing the scar that runs vertically under his left eye.

He hates acknowledging this scar exists, yet when your hands are the one touching it, he feels at ease. He feels happier, somewhat.

“I'm fine,” he assures you, leaning into your touch. “Truly. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?” You tilt your head. “About?”

“You.” His hands land on your waist, pulling you flushed against his chest. Your hands play with his hair, a simple smile on your expression. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

You laugh. “Multiple times, I'm afraid.”

“Well, I'll say it again.”

He presses his forehead against yours, a lazy grin on his expression. His free hand travels south, and you playfully swat at his chest when he squeezes your ass playfully.

You shift to press a chaste kiss to his lips, and Macaque's grin widens at the corners.

On the kitchen table….

It's not the first time you've had sex in any part of your house. Macaque's always been the type to be frisky, always ready to touch and grab. You'd be lying if you said weren't the same―alas, you picked up your husband's bad habits. Wukong would naturally be pissed.

Your legs wrap around his waist, moaning against his ear. His hands dig into your skin, squeezing your thighs while he thrusts into you. His pelvis smacks against your ass, and his grunts and groans fill the air, mixing with your moans and the wet sounds that follow.

Macaque likes you like this. All sprawled out under him, clothes torn and lips swollen, body covered in bite marks and bruises made in his haste. He likes the sight of your eyes all crosseyed, your expression flushed beautifully as he fucks into you.

He bites his lip when his cock rubbing against an angle withdraws a sweet moan from your lips, and he pushes into you harder. Your walls cling to him, drawing him deeper, and he wants to sink his teeth into your neck and leave another mark there.

And he does. He presses lower to your body, his teeth breaking the skin on your neck. Your hands claw at his back, moaning deliriously as you cum around him, gasping his name like a mantra.

Macaque mumbles something under his breath. He licks the broken skin and kisses your cheek affectionately.

“We need a baby,” he murmurs in your ear, and he yanks you closer. “A little me, or you, you know? Gotta…mark you up. All f’me.”

You don't oblige him with a reply, but the way you moan and bury your head in his chest is all that he needs to turn you onto your side with a smirk.

Oh, and you need a new table in the aftermath.

@lotusarchon, 26.11.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[generalsdiary]

hybrid cat!ratio but aventurine isn't aware how feline like he is, until a sleep deprived ratio sits beside him on the couch and rests his head on his shoulder. and purs. aventurine freezes, soft rumbling of veritas' chest soothing him, and then, if purring wasn't enough, the long purple tail curls up in his lap. aventurine wants to jump out of his skin- cuddly veritas? doctor veritas ratio purring, seeking touch? kakavasha is losing his shit by the second.

meanwhile ratio is running on three hours of sleep for a stupid reason, and he simply embraces aventurine, cuddling closer wanting more of this comfort.

the last straw is ratio nuzzling his face into the blond's neck. rubbing his cheeks, nose against the soft skin. the furry ears brushing past his jaw. purring getting louder.

aventurine is a mess, he loves it of course, nonetheless he is caught off guard. he attempts at one of his one liners, to feel out the atmosphere, "do you... also meow?" he ends up sounding like a teenage boy stuttering in front of his crush.

shivers go down his spine when ratio speaks lowly against his ear in a husky voice, "would you like to hear it?"

[emmcfrxst]

Old Man Logan fawning over reader and Laura jamming out to songs on the radio whenever they go on road trips <33

much to his chagrin, little laura loves pop music; the bubblier, the better. he tries (and fails) to make her like classic rock— she’s “not interested in old man music”, she wants fun songs she can dance to with you. she giggles uncontrollably whenever you sing badly on purpose, clapping for you excitedly. logan always complains about her choice of music, being the grumpy dad he is, but you’ve caught him more than once mouthing along to the lyrics and more recently; shaking his butt slightly to it while in the kitchen— although he will deny the last part until the day he dies (which isn’t anytime soon because you live on a little farm where you grow your own food, free of the additives that are meant to weaken mutations. ever since you’ve started being self sufficient, you’ve noticed that logan heals much faster, and that his pain seems lessened a little. you only ever buy store products if one of you is having a craving; otherwise you make do with what you grow, purging your bodies of the chemicals that render you sick <3)

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

[blenselche]

familiar.

@unicornmachine the brainworms!!!! aaaaa!

She begins to remember things, like how his cracked molar would catch on the tip of her tongue, or the oddly musical pattern of his wake-up joint pops… how he only gentles when you're lathering strawberry scented shampoo into his scalp, how his hands grab with a jarringly insecure hunger. Fi isn't a homewrecker, but her insides twist up with a ferocious, venom coated jealousy upon the dawning realization that magic wasn't the only thing stolen away from their world, pinching herself and digging her knuckles into a dark green bruise she's worked into her thigh at the sight of him happy with someone else. A small, shameful part of her comes alive in the back of her brain, whispering hopefully that he'll remember, too, when his eyes stutter over her face.

[eiraeths]

ghost’s family is alive but somewhere along the line ghost dies. his funeral is a bigger affair than he ever could’ve imagined. soap manages to show up despite all the threats and thoughts that he couldn’t do it. at a glimpse, soap thinks he see’s ghost again. it’s tommy. the more soap looks though, the more tonmy mirrors ghost. they have the same mannerisms and the same lopsided smile. for a moment, soap gets to see ghost again. his eternal best friend.

[py-dreamer]

Wild Robot LMK au

The Wild Robot but Lego Monkie kid.

The Wild Robot but Wukong is this giant stone golem created by Nuwa meant to be a heavenly guard or a weapon for the heavens.

The Wild Robot but stone Wukong before awakening falls to earth onto Flower fruit mountain and his main function is to protect. He spends his first waking hours trying to protect animals who find him weird, call him a monster, say he's keeping them captive and ripping him apart as he is prone to attack anything he perceives as a threat while trying to find something to protect.

The Wild Robot but in trying to climb a tree, Wukong unknowingly breaks a branch a monkey mother and her cubs were sleeping on, killing all but the runt of the family whom Wukong saves and is about to leave alone until the cub wakes up, calling the simian his father and imprinting on him.

The Wild Robot but Wukong finds a newfound purpose to protect this runt. But soon winter will come and the monkeys will need to climb to the highest peaks of the mountain to stay warm while the rest stay on the ground and now he needs to find a way to teach this cub to climb.

The Wild Robot but Wukong finds Macaque, a solitude loner who wants nothing to do with the odd duo until he finds he can exchange his intellect for protection from everything trying to kill him on the island.

The Wild Robot but slowly, it seems that the odd trio form a bond and the cub grows from a runt to a young adolescent who's an oddball from the rest but is compassionate and cares for his strange fathers nonetheless. Wukong at first finds the cub delicate, almost impossible to take care off but slowly adapts and finds little rewards in that.

The Wild Robot but Wukong at first gives the child a long lengthy title filled with grand promises of power and strength that he's known from protocol in how the celestials were named but comes to call the boy Xiaotian given that he fell from the sky.

The Wild Robot but every animal on the mountain looks down in disdain at the weird family except for a couple while Macaque fiercely doubles down to defend his family's friends' honor as the stone golem looks in confusion and disappointment.

The Wild Robot but as time passes the golem's body wears down, rough jagged edges meant to strike fear smooth down and are covered in wear, tear and moss while their home grows with even more mini paintings illustrating Xiaotian's growth.

The Wild Robot but the boy is no longer a boy and learns the truth of his family. He grows distant from his parents Wukong but the golem persists to help his son the cub regardless of his comparatively small size and weak arms to prepare him for the big climb.

The Wild Robot but during winter after Xiaotian and the rest of the monkeys leave, Macaque stays with Wukong and they gather the rest of the animals on the base of the mountain into their den to hibernate until spring. There they hold a truce and sleep in peace.

The Wild Robot but Xiaotian grows into his own, becoming the leader of the monkeys having a new perspective and other advantages the other simians don't have and comes down in spring to apologize to Wukong. That he realizes that by killing the rest of Xiaotian's birth family, he most likely saved him from being killed for being the runt.

The Wild Robot but heaven come back to retrieve their weapon but the animals defend their friendly giant and work together to prevent the destruction caused by the celestials from spreading.

The Wild Robot but Wukong gets captured anyway to study for how he'd changed protocol but Xiaotian learns from his dad the simian and climbs the clouds to infiltrate heaven to rescue him.

The Wild Robot but Xiaotian finds Wukong almost dead but after confessing how he misses his father, Wukong recognizes his son's voice and comes back. Together, the two leap from the heavens with Wukong holding his boy close to his chest, tucking him in like when he was small enough to fit in the golem's hand and shielding him from the impact and landing back on Flower fruit mountain to reunite with Macaque and complete their family.

(Can you tell I watched the Wild Robot recently?)

(also damn, I just basically made Monkey king reborn)

@furornocturna @furornocturna pssstttt I made another impromptu thingy. probably won't turn into anything though

[m33pl0v3]

Imagine youre so sleepy n tired and then you have your handsome boyfriend with a fucked up bodyclock who can handle less the 4 hours of sleep trying to coo you to sleep with random rambling of whatever comes to mind of his and basically you have your own personal asmrtist and that is Leon Kennedy

Sometimes his mouth noises comes in way too good both of you wont get any sleep tonight

[mailrebel]

"Jewelry" - A Telink Drabble

Here's a short Telink drabble for the "This or That" event @zelinkcommunity Tetra attempts to pierce Link’s ear :)

Prompt: Jewelry Words: 334

“Ouch!” Link cried.

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” Tetra chided him. “Even Niko didn’t blubber this much.”

“Can you at least be more gentle?”

“There’s no such thing as gentle on my ship.”

Link rolled his eyes and tried his best to remain still. The last thing he needed was for Tetra to slip up while attempting to shove a sharp ring in his ear. It was already torture enough, having her yank and prod at him.

“Is this really necessary?” he whined, trying not to wince.

“Everyone in my crew has their ears pierced. It’s a sign of solidarity on these rough seas. If you’re one of us, you’ll shut up and let me do this. And you do want to be one of us, don’t you?”

“I just wanted a ride to the next island,” Link mumbled, his shoulders sagging.

“Oh, quit your crying!” Tetra huffed. She soon pulled his ear taut once more, trying to get a better view. “You’re getting this earring whether you like it or not!”

“You could’ve at least warned me before boarding. My grandma is not going to like this.”

“I’ll pierce her ears next if you don’t shut up!”

Link twisted around, attempting to give Tetra a look of disbelief. How could anyone threaten his sweet old grandmother like that!?

But all of his troubles were quickly lost to a violent sting of pain. The boy howled while Tetra laughed.

“There, finally got the sucker in,” the young captain said proudly. “Now was that so bad?”

“Yes,” Link practically seethed. Nevertheless, he let his frustration deflate as he timidly reached up and felt the piece of metal now dangling from his ear. After poking it a bit, he turned to his lone companion.

“Well…how does it look?”

Tetra crossed her arms and smirked. “On you? Not bad. I might even say that it makes you look manly.”

Link smiled bashfully. “Manly, huh?”

“Yeah. Now if only you had the courage to back it up.”

[zizzy-rie]

Rock Monkies AU - Wukong's disappearance after the battle with DBK

How will Macaque react to this information?

"Liu'er Mihou knows Sun Wukong far more than anyone could imagine. After all, he did live his life for him and with him. He was his right-hand man, his other half, his husband... After learning what happened in the battle with DBK, Liu'er denies it. The staff was one of Wukong's most priceless possessions. He never leaves it behind... Unless... Liu'er runs to the hill. He doesn't believe it, he doesn't believe anything bad could happen to Wukong... To his xingan... And yet, as he stands there at the foot of the hill, his very eyes see the staff, standing erect at the top, with no owner in sight."

"The villagers trembled, hearing the screams. They thought another attack was going to happen. But it hit them, how mournful the sound was, devastation and despair thick in the scream.

It haunted them, almost as much as the Demon Bull King's roar."

- excerpt from a drabble @bogswell-kampilan wrote two years ago.

Yaling btw is Qiuyue's birthname.

[tired-biscuit]

Bunny!reader that spent all night teasing wolf!kiba and is now pinned to the back seat of their car being mounted roughly YUMMMM

18+ fem!reader // cw: hybrids

all i can think about is him putting his hand on your thigh as he drives you home after your date.

with his eyes hard on the road and his jaw tightly set, he's clearly in a bad mood and you're to blame. choosing to act like a particularly naughty bunny during the entirety of your outing, you've spent the entire evening provoking him; testing his limits and trying to invoke some jealousy just to see what kind of wolf he actually is.

so far, he doesn't seem to be like the big, bad wolf that parents used to scare their children with in stories. that specific discovery only turns you braver.

and it's no wonder that you're feeling courageous. he didn't do jack shit after you had dressed all cute and flirted just the tiniest - moderate - amount with the waiter. didn't bat an eye as you'd started feeling all sorts of complacent and full of yourself. no, instead, your wolf of a boyfriend had just turned quiet.

so, you're not nervous at all as you now sit in his car, looking out the window with your reflection in the glass so awfully smug. besides the rather irregular tapping of his fingers against the inner side of your leg, there seems to be no threat visible on the horizon. to be fair, there is not much love behind the stroke... but you don't let yourself doubt in it.

it'll warm up over time, after all. you know it will.

"had fun tonight?" you chime at some point, trying to initiate conversation even if it's painfully evident that he doesn't want to talk to you for a change. you've grown bored of staring at the passing street lamps and empty sidewalk, so the vein that now bulges and turns prominent in the side of his neck is a welcomed sight, compared to the dullness outside.

"babe?" you insist, pushing him when he doesn't say anything. goodness, you just can't help yourself, can you? it's too fun; too entertaining to watch him sulk like this.

"no," he answers simply. finally. "i didn't have fun tonight."

a small giggle escapes your lips at his answer. you don't miss the tick in his jaw that appears when he swallows and grips the steering wheel tighter with his other hand. his knuckles flash stark white with the grip, and the sight would have perhaps been scary if you didn't otherwise consider him as nothing more but a mere pup after tonight's events.

"what's so funny?" said pup grits out, now. his voice has turned deeper, almost growly. it owns a certain edge to it that unwillingly activates the ancient alarm system that's been drilled inside the prey part of your brain.

unfortunately for you, you choose to brush it off. instead, you bat your eyelashes up at him, all pretty-like. you smile. say, "oh, nothing." and start snickering again like a little girl. like a mean little girl.

thump, thump, thump - something snaps within him at the way you so openly mock him now. his heart begins beating faster than normal with each passing second; your keen rabbit hearing catches the uprise in the rhythm of his pulse. the sound makes your ears twitch and your body tense up a bit. especially because his grip on your leg turns just a bit more firm... a bit more possessive.

has his hand always been this big? even the sweater he's wearing seems to have turned tighter around his biceps. if you listen closely, you can hear the stretch of the fabric; the micro-tears in it.

"hey... i've told you; it really is nothing, babe," you try to soothe because the blaring of the alarms inside your head doesn't seem to be so insignificant anymore - nearly the entirety of your smugness has dissipated with it. flicking your gaze to his foot as he applies more weight to the gas pedal, the street lamps which you can see in your peripheral are passing by way faster now than they did before.

your mouth feels awfully dry all of a sudden. his presence seems bigger, more intimidating. it's like he's sucking all the air inside the car with every breath he takes, and it all makes your voice sound small as you murmur, "slow down a bit, will you? ...you're driving really fast."

he doesn't seem to be listening to what you're telling him as he steps further on the gas pedal again. it's either that, or he's ignoring you on purpose, because all he says now is, "you're bullshitting me."

"i'm not!" your tone is panicky as you blabber out the words. he's driving way too fast and his nails are no longer blunt. you can feel the prickle of claws as they start to sink into the fat of your thigh. the sharpness causes your tights to rip in some places, and yet they still continue to grow.

when you whip your head to the side to look at him, his eyes are still glued to the road. but you can see the way the corner of his mouth is twitching. can see the way his chest heaves. the way he's calculating something.

"kiba," you start.

"you know damn well that i don't like it when you make me look dumb in front of other people," he snaps. "and what did you do? exactly that. you made me look like a fuckin' moron in front of the entire restaurant."

"kiba, i didn't- fuck!" the instinct to kick out your legs bubbles within you and stops you mid-sentence when he squeezes your thigh, harshly. it's a rabbit thing; one that he knows how to take advantage of but has never actually taken it before. until now, that is.

your stomach wants to climb up your throat when he suddenly swerves into a wide, but luckily-empty, parking lot. he hits the brake with such force that it makes your seat belt bite into your middle painfully. your hair curtains your face as you try to gasp for air and collect yourself.

there's silence for a few moments. and then;

"bunny."

his voice sounds strange now as he says the pet name you otherwise melt at. it's like his teeth are getting too big for his mouth, but you don't dare turn to look if it's actually true. besides, it's not like you could see much anyway; hot tears sting your waterline.

"bunny," he repeats, just a tad bit softer this time. "look at me."

when you refuse, his hand reaches up to cup your face. the claws are still there - they pinch your cheeks as he holds you by your chin and turns your head to the side by force. it doesn't hurt necessarily, but the grip is tenacious enough to make your lips purse even as your cupid's bow quivers a bit.

he's snarling when you finally raise your blurry gaze to look at him from underneath your eyelashes. his pupils are nothing more but slits, and his teeth are bared, fangs elongated. they gleam in the silvery light of the street lamp which he's parked right under. you swear that you can catch the sheen of drool on them.

he looks... furious. frightening. big and bad.

like an apex predator.

and that apex predator leans in, now. he leans in, the warmth of his breath fanning your face, and your heart starts to jackhammer all over your ribcage because of the proximity. every single hair on your body stands to attention; it's like your goddamn soul is screaming at you to flee, despite the fact that you can't because you're sitting completely frozen in your seat.

he's gotten so big that he makes the car seem small. it's an suv, for fuck's sake.

your voice shakes as you try to utter a worthy-enough apology because you're scared - goddammit, you're scared shitless. "kiba, i'm... i'm-"

"get your ass in the backseat, you stupid fucking rabbit," he interrupts you immediately, squeezing your cheeks again to make you shut up. he doesn't even give you a moment to breathe before he yanks you forward, forcing you to look right into his eyes. "i'm gonna fuck your brains outta your dumb lil' head."

the way he looks at you now - so starved and possessive and borderline insane - sends heat pooling between your legs. you don't want it to happen, don't want him to know and smell that his mean demeanor makes your little bunny cunt awfully wet and sticky despite being so vulnerable compared to him, but you just can't seem to stop it. especially as he presses his forehead against your own sweat-riddled one and whispers,

"and if you even as much as try to run, i'll hunt you down like the prey you are... i swear i'll fuck you in the middle of the street if i have to."

[quixotical-lymbo]

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