#sun centric

[mx-nix-winks]

The Time Loop Horror House [DCA- Sun centric oneshot]

So.... I wrote a thing based on a time looping horror murder house dream i had- not sure if i'll write more for it but if you would like some gold ole angst, please take a gander below!

Content Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, memory loss, murder, psychological horror

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[I was going to post the whole thing here on tumblr only but then tumblr said my text block was too big. So now you get a link to the fic on A03 lol]

The Time Loop Horror House (2749 words) by ShugoRyuu Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Moon/Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Original Character(s) Characters: Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Original Characters Additional Tags: time loops, Memory Loss, Memory Wipe, Murder, Psychological Horror, Suspense, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Maybe A Little Comfort If You Squint, Hopeful, functions like a reader insert story but instead of 'you' it uses 'she/her' in third person, Sun-centric, POV Third Person Omniscient, Sun's POV, Violence

Summary:

Sun works at the Horror House, a place where guests sign up to be scared, chased, and tormented as they attempt to figure out how to escape without getting caught and killed first. Not all of them make it. Most of them don't make it. Sun has always worked at the Horror House and the guests have always willingly signed up for this, although he thinks it a bit strange for a lot of them to enjoy playacting as if they hadn't and didn't want to be there. But that was humans for you. A strange bunch that didn't make a whole lot of sense.

But the woman in front of him made even less sense because this was his first time meeting her, he was supposed to kill her, she wasn't running, and she knew far too much about him that wasn’t in the manuals or the promotional material.

And she kept calling him SunnyBunny.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

At what point do you start seeing one in the other?

At what point do you start looking at the devil like a friend?

[beeshoesometimesdraws]

The guy ever

Alternate + other stuff under cut

Without text

Lineart

+ extra wip thing

[liuermihuo]

silly little macaque au drawing

probably not gonna put effort into this AU but i have a rough design idea for macaque & wukong

[hcdragonwrites]

Missing Flowers ( @semisolidmind Fanfic)

I wrote this because I was inspired by another bit of work. This one is sweet ans short and Mac centric. Inspired by this ask! Twice as Bad Au make brain go brrrr

Tw for some violence mentions and some allusions to intimate behaviour (it is not detailed at all - in fact you may miss it entirely - but it is alluded to thats why I mention this)

As the sweet scents of spring created on the wind, carrying blossoms and the soft buzzing bodies of bumblebees, Peaches felt a deep pang of loss. Outside in the spring air, walking along the edge of the mountains with the small attendants she was given, she looked out beyond the sparkling sea. Beyond the mountains and the sky and all that lay between. She imagined she was looking homeward. To her village.

She missed her village, missed her people who she knew as family and as friends. She missed the smell of the earth, the taste of the rain on her tongue and how the sun angled itself through her shuttered windows to cast the dust motes in startling detail as they passed through the beams. It had been over a decade now since her marriage of ‘demonic fashion’ to the rulers of Flower Fruit Mountain. The ache never would go away- it would linger like a hole in her smile, a tooth lost and never replaced.

However it wasn’t her village today that was making her homesick.

Peaches had a little patch of earth, maybe an acre large that she had dedicated to the propagation of flowers and fruits, vegetables and all manner of growing things. It had taken years of careful selection, of collecting seeds from far and wide, of dedicated research and late nights in the snow and the ice and the building of her greenhouse to gather the collection she had had.

Peaches had turned the soil, mixing it with her grass clippings, ash from the fire place, and the compost to enrich it. It had been years of careful and quiet work to build her collection of plants. The glass bits for her greenhouse had costed her years and years of hard work. She had been unable to have it as large as she wanted but it was enough. Within the wooden little wall sat her favorite flowers, the precious few she had bargained and hunted for, the seeds and clippings, were all here safe within the wooden walls.

All her work over the past few years gone in a flash of fire and a slash of violence. What had happened to her little home? Was the house standing? Rotting in its neglect of the years. Did someone take over her home if it was still standing?

The stairs would need replacing. The second one had been creaking before her kidnapping. The wood had been softening and she had her eyes on a tree just beyond her garden. She had planned to cut it free and carve a new replacement. What of her animals? She had had a small herd of goats, little bleating creatures of brown and white.

The goats had been her source of fresh milk, meat and weed control. Each had been given a name. Each had been loved.

Had they been able to get away?

Had they been burned in the fire?

Peaches knew that the flowers and fruits she had were gone. Those couldn’t have escaped the fire - or the human retribution that would follow from any survivors.

Would Wukong have left survivors ? The Sage had come home many a times from such violence. He had woken her with cold hands grasping and seeking her out. He buried them in her hair or twined them in her fingers. Wukong would pull her to him and away from her own makeshift nest within their bed. In those early days he had not learned that the smell of fire and blood would upset her.

Those nights his blood had been on fire from conquest and he wanted only to enjoy the comfort of one of his dearest prizes. Her. Wukong would touch and whisper love into her ears as he fell asleep, a peace only she could bring in the aftermath of those bloodbaths. Sometimes she would wake in the morning to find blood smeared along her cheeks and in her hair.

It had been one of the times Macaque had found her hyperventilating after such a morning covered in blood that wasn’t hers, confused to where it could be from, and the memories of the night when the drunk had invaded her home.

And her world had changed. She had been pulled to his arms, her own chest pressing to his. Instructed to follow his breathing, to listen to the air whoosh from his body. To hold. Then to fill again like the bellows of a blacksmiths forge. And then to deflate.

When her breathing did not sound like the frantic flapping of a broken birds wing, thats when Macaque had asked her what happened. What had triggered her memories. Peaches asked how he knew- and her second husband rubbed a thumb beneath her eyes and caught a tear.

“You were screaming. Telling me to stop burning the village.” The words sounded sad. Not remorseful. Never remorseful for the actions that led here here. That brought her to residency in the mountain. The sadness was instead about the scars left behind, the invisible wounds that their actions had created.

After that, Wukong never came to bed smelling of blood or fresh from a conquest.

Wukong would never leave survivors of the village. Not after what he thought was a slight to her, to his perception of what was his. An extension of his own self importance. No. That seemed wrong even as Peaches thought it. Maybe she was an extension of his grandeur. But she wasn’t just a prize to be turned and looked at. Somehow, in some way, he had fallen in love with her.

Love for Wukong- for Macaque- was not like human love. Just as two peach trees could produce different fruits. Peaches knew that love between people was more of a communication, a build up to a relationship. At least in the best situations. Demons however … it was more draconic in a sense. To claim and catch, to conquer before another could take the prize between its claws and keep for themselves. Like dogs fighting over scraps, love was something to catch and hoard and keep.

Maybe it wasn’t so different from humans. Stories and mythologies had been woven of love like this. Men had gone to war and killed thousands of others in the name of one paramour, one love.

Wukong had done that. He had taken a conceived obstacle and removed it. He had snatched her as a wolf would steal a lamb in the cold of winter, taking her back to the mountain. Devouring her freedom to secure his happiness. When his brother came to see, to wonder at why their paramour was here. It hadn’t taken much convincing. It was as natural as breathing to take in their world.

Peaches attendants, those young ladies, waited patiently. Peaches stared out across the world and wished she had the eyes of eagles to stare and devour the miles so she could see for herself.

Was her garden truly gone? Had anything wild had been left behind ?

Had the apple trees gone wild? Were green granny smiths now growing wild among the pink ladys and dorsett goldens? Were the nectarines falling from the trees to rot beautifully in a horrid flash of sweet sick decay? Did the bees still pollinate whatever roses and hydrangeas survived ?

Had the fire consumed everything?

She missed her garden. Her plants. She missed her home.

She had been so lost in thought that she didn’t notice how her Ladies in waiting called out- she didn’t notice the shadow length beneath her feet. Until suddenly the ground was not ground at all but a gaping black hole- and she fell screaming.

Right into a warm embrace and soft fur that smelled like orange blossoms and plum wine. Laughter bubbled out of Macaque bare chest. “I would think the Queen would be more aware of her surroundings by now.”

Peaches pulled away enough to hook her husband with a scowl. It was half hearted as the demonic monkey dipped downward and pressed his lips to the side of her face in soft peppered kisses. Peaches laughed at the affection, able to ease into the comfort that the six eared macaque had grown between them. The chestnut trees above them rattled like ladies whispering as casting the sunlight like dice over a game.

“Some brutes don’t walk - some slink in shadows.” Peaches teased back. She lifted a hand up and along Macaques face. Her fingers touched his ears- all six on display today instead of being glamoured and hidden. The large clawed hand tightened beneath her as she brushed her hands over them. Macaque leaned into her touch, pressing his face, and her hand, into hers.

“Slink?” The monkey teased. They were beneath a cluster of chestnut and beech trees. A whole new position upon the mountain - possibly leagues across the great kingdom.

“Slink?” Macaque nipped her ear and she yelped in surprise- cheeky like. “I do not slink.”

And then the stomach flip as the magic pulled them in. The very shadows that seemed to seep and flow through macaques black fur, the ebbing of ocean currents between the jetties of his being. The cold kissed her nose, the sun flashed. Peaches blinked as the orientation of the sky reasserted itself. They were closer to Water Curtain cave now. The mosses and lichens that grew in the soft moisture were tell tale signs.

“I merely use what I have to my advantage.”The Six Eared Macaque pulled his wife into himself as he began to walk. In her decade here she had begun to see the mountain like a second skin. Each turn of stone was becoming like a new crease in her skin. Here she understood that, even though the forest was near the palace, it was no where she had treaded recently.

Her husband was taking her somewhere. But where ?

“You left my ladies in distress.” Peaches asked. The steps against the forest floor were soothing. Would she allow herself to be soothed ? It was easier for Peaches to forget the scars that marred her when it was Macaque. With Wukong …

It would always be a sore spot. Always be cut that had healed too thin and the scar left behind would ache in the cold.

“I left them with a note that said I was taking my wife for a moment.”

How different the world would be if they had just asked her to come with them. Had the two brothers even floated the idea between each other? Thought to show her the beautiful mountain and let her fall into it and in love with it ? Peaches knew she would have come. The beauty here was unmatched - the fruits and flowers and plants and growing things would have stolen her away faster then a demons courting could ever achieve. If her boys had only asked her… only shown her….

“How are you Peaches ?” Macaques voice was soft.

“I am… far away.” She decided to be honest.

“The memories again?” Soft, gentle. Her sweet boy was still there. Still within this … sorrow. Peaches had found the little monkey bleeding among her hydrangeas and honeysuckle. The white and purple petals were turned crimson and crushed beneath the tiny body. Of course he had been a wild thing, a furious flash of teeth and claws. Any animal would be. So when the weak little monkey bit into her hand she hadn’t flinched. Instead she had waited, taking a blanket to scoop the poor creature up and into her arms- and to contain those claws. The bite was foolish- what she did was foolish- but… she was a foolish women.

The bite was deep, the pain a lance in her mind. Those teeth were large enough, sabers in gums - knives of nature that cut into the soft pad of her flesh. He didn’t let go, he didn’t release her hand until the blood on his flank was cleaned. Until the gash in his side had been sewed shut. He was too weak to worry her flesh into ruin. To take his pain and tear her apart. He could have. Though small, though at a disadvantage, the little was gifted with weapons where Peaches had been gifted none. She was soft handed, soft as a magnolia flower. No claws no teeth no strength.

Yet he did not tear her apart. The tiny monkey was left alone after he was patched up. A bowl of water, a small basket of peeled mandarins. And the window- left open to let in the wet jungle air. Her kindness had cost her her hand- the day after it was purple and swollen. It was hard to work in the soil- to work in the garden and her little farm. She had carrots to pull, goats to milk, and trees to prune. By the end of the day she could barely close the hand and it had grown yellow on top of the purple. Like a plum trampled enough to ruin the flesh but not enough to break it open.

The next morning however, when she unwrapped to tend the wound and let it breath… she found the wrappings clean. The swelling was gone. The punctures were still there. But…. They had healed over.

She had been a fool. Peaches had thought it was from her tending that the wound had healed up. She had been a fool. Who would have known that her foolish heart would lead to this future?

“Its not just the memories- its a memory.” They had stopped walking now.

“Which one?” The leaves rustled above them. The air smelled of water and earth and stone. It was … calming. So the memory coming forward now wasn’t cast in sorrow. But in calm.

“Of you.” She reached up and pressed a finger to the very tip of his nose. “Of the garden. When we first met.”

Macaque grimaced.

“Not my best introduction...” He looked down at her hand. The scar was still there, silver moons along her skin.

“Are you embarrassed?”Peaches teased. Macaque paused. He set her down onto her feet, kneeling. His hands caught her wrist- the one he had scared all those years ago- and brought it to his face.

“Truly I am. I mauled your hand.”He kissed it, rubbed a claw over the scars, worried at it with his lips and his tender forehead brushes.

“You were in pain. And you healed it.” Peaches pulled him up. Off his knees. In these moments, these tender touches, was the sweetness that had grown between them. There was the flash of that little monkey she had saved. Who had slowly begun to bring her gifts and treasures. His first gift had never been showed. Macaque had never been talked about- as it had required secrecy.

“Lao Tzi had chased me out.” The simian smiled into her face, teeth flashing like moonlight. “Heaven was in an uproar over my thievery. But … they thought I was Wukong.”

“Mac!” She beat on his shoulder in play. Roaring laughter was rewarded to her as the trickier of the two loomed over and draped his arms over her front, pressing her back to his chest.

“I couldn’t let them know it was me!” His teeth were in her hair, soft croons and gentle nips being pressed to her skin. “I was in a bit of a hurry.”

Her cheeky six eared husband then began to press her and tease her in a very flirtatious fashion that turned Peaches skin flushed and burning. It was long moments and minutes after the teasing and the stolen presses of kisses and promises for later, that Peaches decided to open her heart a bit more to him.

“I miss it all. I miss the house and the village and …. I miss the garden the most. All my plants. My animals…” Peaches rested her face in his arm, drinking in the plum wine and orange blossom smell that was so thickly wrapped in his fur.

“All the growing things… do you think they are still there ?” It was easy to think of it here, when Macaque had been kind and soft to her. When he understood what emotional wounds were still healing, still painfully sore. The rush of his heart was against her ear was nice.

“Have they gone wild and returned to the woods ? What of the roses- they are the hardest here to tend. And the magnolia trees….” A bird flitted and flew its way between the emerald leaves. A dolphin flying through a sea of emerald green.

Macaque spun her suddenly, his hand gripping hers, his tail flicking. She was pulled along, hands grasping his as they walked faster.

“Lets walk. We will go and see the orchards and you will tell me all the flowers you had and loved and never got to tend.”

“I would tell you anyway.” Peaches laughed softly. “I loved my flowers.”

The look of serious thought didn’t alleviate in the wake of her laughter.

“You will tell me in detail and what seasons they grow- and what habitats they grow in. Who the traders were that gave you the seeds and the clippings.” They rounded the corner of a stone outcropping, the path before them becoming more well trodden. The path to the orchards.

“And I want you to find a piece of the mountain- get that foolish orange orangutang of my brother to help you clear it and drain it and turn its soil rich.”

The realization was dawning on Peaches then.

“Ma-Macaque…” Was he suggesting what her heart was starting to hope?

“You get the land ready.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I will collect the seeds in my journeys. I will find the best lines and horticulturists and gather you a collection that will rival the one we foolishly took from you.”

His eyes held hers. It had the same effect that a sunrise had on a snow trapped forest. The light in them was refracted and doubled as Peaches felt her heart fill. She didn’t realize that tears were dripping until Macaque was reaching up to coo and rub them free, calling to her in comforting familial tones a monkey would use to soothe an create comfort.

“And I will be able to play within your garden and see you smile like you just did. I would bring down the lunar gardens to see you smile again… as you did when i first saw you in that garden. ”

[imfinereallyy]

Eddie grew up as a creature of the night. It was to no one’s surprise really. The day was exhausting but the night was always full of this chaotic energy that he loved. The night was mysterious and other, the wonders of it still unexplored.

Eddie felt one with the night. He made friends with the moon and the stars. And although there were times that would pass where he could not see them, where there was nothing but the inky abyss, he knew they were still there. Hidden but never gone.

It started when he was young, his love of night. Eddie thought it had probably started when he was just a boy. Dumped his Uncle Wayne’s doorstep. He had been terrified, whisked away by a father on the run just as dusk brushed against the horizon. They had made it to Wayne’s trailer precisely as the evening settled into its peak. Eddie’s father hadn’t even bothered knocking. Just left Eddie on the porch with one backpack and a buzzed head. And Eddie waited there for a moment, looked up at the sky and thought it wasn’t that lonely with stars out.

His wondering mind was interrupted by Wayne pulling the door open and yanking Eddie inside no questions asked. The night was when Wayne had given Eddie a home.

As the years past, his fascination with night only grew stronger. It helped bring people closer to him. Eddie interpreted the night into campaigns, songs and even advice for the kids (lots of night metaphors for failed dating lives). He got most of his work done at this time. His mind coming alive and bursting with ideas. Wayne’s schedule was at night too. So when he worked, Eddie shared odd meals with his old man. And when Wayne was off, his brain like Eddie’s ran with the schedule of the moon.

The night also helped Eddie learn to be okay with being alone. Late night drives. Walks in the woods. Stargazing from a picnic bench. All things he had learned to enjoy his own company while doing.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like they day per say, or the sun. It’s just that Eddie had found the day boring. There was no wonder, no lust, no mystery. There was no appeal. The world was too bright, too open. There was no exploring and there was no comfort. Just exposure.

Then Eddie met Steve Harrington officially. Well, officially for the first time after everything. After the High School bullshit. After the wild adventures of the (please god never again) Upside down. When Eddie met Steve officially, in his hospital room, he is baffled to find him awake at 6 am, with a smile on his face.

And all Steve said was, “Glad you made it to actually see another sunrise.”

Like it was nothing. Like at of all the things that had blown Eddie’s mind the past week, or even more specifically out of all the things Eddie had learned about Steve Harrington, the thing that absolutely floored Eddie was the fact the Steve Harrington was a morning person.

It shouldn’t had bothered him so much. It wasn’t like he had been planning on become friends with the guy. But then he did, and Eddie couldn’t help but spiral.

Because no one should like the day as much as Steve did. Sure, Eddie was most definitely being a hypocrite. Like he had proclaimed himself as the goblin king of night once (although very drunk on Nancy’s whiskey), and Eddie prided himself on being a freak and accepting of everyone. So it was probably unfair of him to judge but this was excessive.

The day was everywhere when it came to Steve. He woke up early. He laid out in the backyard against the pavement. Steve would ask Eddie to go chase dawn with him on an early morning drive. It was in Steve’s wardrobe for Christ sake. That yellow sweater haunted his dreams, and Steve looked so good in it, and Eddie can’t help but stare—

The day was everywhere when it came to Steve Harrington.

And Eddie was damn fool who fell in love with him.

Eddie had fallen for the unattainable. The straight boy. His best friend. The guy who picked him up from a bad date in Indie no questions asked. The guy who shared a bed with him after plenty of nightmares. The guy who listened. The guy who cared.

The King and the Freak. The day to his night. The absolutely, infuriatingly opposite of what Eddie is allowed to like, allowed to have.

It had gotten so bad, that Eddie, when he couldn’t sleep and Steve wasn’t around, found himself whispering to the night about him. Told it how although Steve and the night didn’t meet very often, Eddie was certain it would love him anyway.

Eddie knew Steve was just as baffled by Eddie’s love of the darkness.He had asked once how he could stand it.

“Don’t the nightmares make you hate it? The lack of sleep alone makes me hate it, and that’s not even when I remember what the upside down looked like. No light, only hazy red darkness? Not for me man. Never again.” Steve had said while they passed a joint.

“I don’t know man, it’s not the nights fault really. Like it doesn’t matter the time of day, I still get nightmares. It’s not the night’s fault the Upside Down exists, and what it looks like. I guess I feel a solidarity with the night now. Even more than I did before. Something being blamed for simply being there. A scapegoat.” Eddie leaned into Steve’s side as he sunk further into the couch. He kinda feared he had said the word night too much in his speech.

Steve stared at Eddie for a moment, something of understanding passed on his face. “Actually, that kind of makes sense. I kinda expected you to talk in weird metaphors to explain it—“

“I still got stars wars analogy up my sleeve.”

Steve pushed on and ignored Eddie, “—but I get it. Like the night, you’re a reminder to people of the bad things that happen even if you’re just there, just existing…It’s complicated, and beautiful and very weird. Just like you”

Eddie didn’t hold back the smile when he said “Steve Harrington, are you calling me beautiful?”

“Yes I am.”

They stared at each other for awhile, no words spoken. It should had unsettled Eddie, or even spark useless hope in him. It didn’t though.

It just made him feel content. Good. Home.

He never felt the need to explain the night to Steve again.

Weeks later, Eddie learned why the day was good too. It was another night spent in Steve’s bed when the nightmares built up for days, with no end in sight. For once Eddie had woken up first. Steve’s head on Eddie’s bare chest. Eddie’s fingers combed through his soft hair, and he hummed softly to nothing but the dawn. The sunrise had started to slowly peak into Steve’s room. Because of course, even the day started towards Steve.

Steve’s eyes had fluttered open unhurriedly. Then he tilted his head up towards Eddie and did something that changed him forever.

Eddie expected him to freak out. For Steve to push him away in horror. To scream, and hit Eddie even. They had shared a bed before but it had never been that intimate. And Eddie knew his face wasn’t hiding any of his feelings either. Eddie, like the night, was only a mystery to those who didn’t know what to look for. And Steve always knew what to look for.

Steve did none of that though. Instead, Steve reached up slowly, brushed his lips across Eddie’s cheek and said, “Good morning, darling.”

Eddie felt his whole body stop and revive back to life in that instant. He died and became a new person. And then Steve, Steve took it even further when he laid back down on Eddie’s chest, without breaking eye contact, and beamed up at him.

Eddie now understands why Steve loved the day. It was because Steve loved the sun. And when Steve smiles at him, Eddie can’t help but think that Steve was the sun. And how Eddie loved the sun too.

Eddie couldn’t be stopped from kissing him in that movement.

Eddie kissed Steve like the morning. Slow, warm, and just as meaningful. There was no rush. It was waking up in comfort. Eddie had always imagined that if he ever got to kiss Steve it would be as chaotic and harsh as the night.

Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to want it in any other way in that moment. It made Eddie ache. It was sincere. It was sweet. It was devout.

Eddie leaned back to take a breath as he said, “Good morning, sunshine.”

———

this is my first stab at writing something eddie centric, so sorry if it’s rough, but it did come straight from the heart. I had fun writing it (as usual at 2 am, which is really in line with this narrative i now realize). It was fun to kinda project my own feelings do the day v night debate. I’m a night owl, and I love all things that come with it. But there is something so comforting about daylight and the warmth of the sun. <3

send me something to write next. :)

[rwbyrg]

Me everyday thinking about how Ruby would get Oscar to laugh really hard when the latter is too deep in his own emotions to express anything, and it'll mostly involve her trying to be silly or cracking a bad joke.

This boy would laugh so hard even if it's not particularly funny if only because it's an effort made by her specifically, I love these two so much I wanna I wanna scream into a pillow!!!!!!

Oscar has laughed so rarely since his first appearance and all of it has been really reserved...

I think about The Little Prince story and how one of the most important parts of his character, one of the things that lingers with the aviator the longest, is the prince's laugh. And I have to wonder if we'll ever see him actually smile so big or laugh so freely at some point. I have to wonder how Ruby would feel getting to see him so unburdened for once? I think if anyone could get him to laugh like that, she stands a pretty good chance.

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Part 4 of the short comic

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

Moon is not really getting better at the whole being friendly to old ones thing but atleast he is calm now

[freckleslikestars]

Maybe... I could have become something different. If you'd lived, I could have truly changed. But you are gone. And I am what I was bred to be.

Claudia Black as Aeryn Sun

FARSCAPE | 3.17 The Choice

[twink-between-worlds]

the boy!!

we swapped the wrist that ravio's bracelet is on just because it looked better.

[lily-evans-stan]

i can’t wait a whole week

next fic rec!!!!!!!!

this one is so good! it’s completed but for the epilogue. so u can read it completed, anyway i cried a lot.

there is some nsfw content so pls read w care

[silkhy-john]

Replaying Sun and Moon and just found out that young Hau got super scared when he saw Hala angry and that’s why Hala doesn’t get super angry in front of him??? The more you know.

[teatime-at-4]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: LEGO Monkie Kid Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Qi Xiaotian | MK & Sun Wukong | Monkey King Characters: Sun Wukong | Monkey King, Liu Er Mihou | Six-eared Macaque, Qi Xiaotian | MK Additional Tags: Macaque's not really here just a shadow clone, Mk is only mentioned, Mentioned Qi Xiaotian | MK, fighting in the background, not even described though just referenced, I add lore to the Monkey's shadow magic, I don't know how to tag this, SWK's and Mac's conversation came to me in the bleariness between sleep and wakefulness, and I had to write it, during the s4 special, let me know if any tags are needed, I think it's a shame we don't see wukong react to MK's warform in canon, no beta we die like Macaque, i wrote this in a day, Wukong would do ANYTHING for MK, Wukong was unaware of MK being a Stone Monkey until the special in this, or anyone's reactions really, sunburst duo, swk and mk centric Series: Part 3 of Monkie Kid Headcanons Extended Universe Summary:

In which Wukong thinks about being a stone monkey, the fact he's not alone in that anymore, and sees MK's warform.

[ladiesoflost]

centric episodes ≡ 2.16 the whole truth (sun kwon)

If I can't, how can there be a baby? I swear to you, Jin, I have never been with another man. That is the truth. Then it's a miracle.

[beeshoesometimesdraws]

I’m blaming @mothymayhem for this, you’re the one who encouraged this, how dare you/j/pos

[tsbs-prompt-dump]

SolRuin fic but instead of the focus being on Solar and Ruin’s relationship, it’s about Jack-O-Moon getting to know his stepdad

(also yes I posted something similar on the ship-confessions blog)

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