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badass-queer-couples-battle · 1 year

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Propaganda:

For Shadowpeach: "ok so, we all know from that one tumblr post that yaoi is two blokes doing fuckall and yuri is when there’s themes and shit? well these two (shadowpeach) have So Much Themes. they were super close friends for years and years (both immortal) before their epic breakup scene (wukong was trapped under a mountain and macaque refused to free him) (he wasn’t entirely in the wrong but that’s another story) (also wukong killed macaque there was that, that did happen) (its complicated)

from the Moment we see these two, all we know about them is that they’re the most divorced ever. as time goes on, we see the complexities in their relationship, and they introduce a lot of the overarching themes and motifs of the show (hero and warrior pairs, peaches being a symbol of their relationship, etc). also they’re both girls to me

tmnt theme song voice toxic codependent yuri!"

"theyre So So gay divorced and have an incredibly complicated and toxic relationship. also according to that one tumblr post yaoi is when theres two blokes doing fuckall and yuri is when theres themes and shit, and these two have So So So many themes and shit. theyve got motifs out the wazoo. peaches are a motif of their relationship and in the very end of the s4 finale wukong hands macaque a half-melted peach flavored (and shaped) popsicle. this is yuri to me"

"They used to be semi-immortal bff's, but then they fell apart and literally one of them died(bc of the other), then he revived, then got semi-consumed by revenge™ and tried to kill each other for a while, but they are cool now and they gave the sweetest little smiles when they finally talked- *fangirls* ok ok, look at it this way: it's a royalty au but it's canon."

"Well, they are toxic doomed yuri vibes, in my.most opinion. But also their designs are pretty gender I think.. mostly wukongs imo. And ik eyelashes aren't inherently feminine but theyre both some of the few(if not only) male characters in the show with visible eyelashes. Also if it counts, out of the relationships that I've seen compared to theirs, most are canonical sapphic relationships from other cartoons (catradora and bubbline notably)"

For Arthur and Linus: "THEY ARE SOO YURI!! OLD MAN YURI!!! LIKE!!! JUST LOOK AT THEM!!! THEYRE SO ADORABLE"

"A warm, loving caretaker of magical children who are orphans falls in love with the fat neurotic caseworker and changes his life for the better."

For Thoschei: "i. why great

They are each other's narrative foils. They are archenemies. They were childhood friends. They might not have been married, but they are divorced. They call themselves best enemies. They are the "i can fix them"/"i can make them worse" duo. They've proposed to each other (to rule/travel across the universe together), but each declined the offer from the other. They've kissed. They've killed each other. They've killed for each other (the first to do so was the Doctor who is the protagonist and the hero, but this fact was revealed in an audio drama, not in the TV show). The universe's too small for both of them. "The cosmos without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about" is a real quote from one of the episodes from the 1980s. They are war criminals. The Master commits atrocities to attract the Doctor's attention and admits it. They are not able to get rid of each other for good, nor they really want to. One of the showrunners literally spent the BBC's money to make his E2L I Can't Decide fanvid for them and make it a part of an episode.

ii. why guy:

They'd been in male bodies for more than 40 years…

iii. why yuri

…until one of them regenerated into a woman. After some time, the other did so too. Sadly, they haven't interacted in their female bodies on screen, but the fandom makes do with fan content.

in conclusion: this is The guy yuri if i've ever seen one"

#guy yuri round 1 #doctor who #lego monkie kid #the house in the cerulean sea #shadowpeach #thoschei #the doctor #the master #sun wukong #lmk macaque #linus baker #arthur parnassus #thitcs #tj klune #lmk #guy yuri poll #(this poll reminded me I've had THITCS on my to read list for months)#(need to get into it found family is my jam(

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cain-speaks · 1 year

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🍑 𝘼 𝙎𝙄𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍-𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙔 🍑|| Wukong's Mom AU

» russian girl (jenia lubich) « 0:53 ──〇──── 2:36

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is a oneshot involving @journey-to-the-au's Clover + Marshal Liu! ➤ This is hurt/comfort. ➤ death to SEM bro. ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include angst, hurt/comfort, self-deprication, minor injury, referenced identity theft, referenced framing, and referenced manipulation. ➤ Word count: 1,372

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

❝ I am just a simple russian girl, I've got vodka in my blood .❞

The guards are none too gentle as they throw the boy into the holding cell, making him cry out as his skin splits on rough stone. The pain is immediate, proving to him that what's happening is real—that the mighty troop of Huāguǒshān truly believes Clover poisoned their beloved King.

"W-Wait!" Clover cries, righting himself as quickly as he can. "Wait, please—!"

He reaches out to the guards, faces that had once looked on him with kindness and friendliness, only to recoil when one snaps at him, long fangs bared threatening. The boy, unfamiliar with such displays, especially from anyone on the mountain, tucks his arms close to his chest and scrambles backwards until he's pressed firmly against the wall. But even as he's out of reach of fang or claw, he can't escape their eyes.

Wrath, regret, disappoinment. Did he prove them wrong? Or prove some of them right?

"You're lucky it's us that were ordered to escort you and not Xīnshù," a mousey brown-grey male—Cypress—spits out. "If she had, I doubt you'd have made it here."

The male beside him, Pecan, scoffs. "You've an atrocious amount of gall, poisoning our King. And during a festival, no less—"

"I didn't!" Clover cries, surprising even himself at the sheer desperation that pours out of him. "I didn't do it, I'd never do it! The mountain..."

Is all I have, he wants to say. But his throat closes and he can't get the words out, try as he might. Cypress and Pecan shake their heads, closing the door and locking him into the cell.

As they turn to leave, Cypress pauses. Then, over his shoulder:

"We should have chased you out the moment you arrived, Sì'ěr."

And then Clover is alone.

Again.

The holding room is dark, barely lit by a single torch Pecan left behind. It's cold and wet and it smells like dust, like it hasn't been used in... forever. If he focuses hard enough, the four-eared macaque can get whiffs of a copper tang, making his stomach turn. So instead he buries his face into his knees and wraps his arms and tail around his legs, trying to calm himself.

You can explain. They'll understand. It wasn't me, it was—

...his own grandfather.

What had Clover done wrong? What had influenced his grandfather to... to trick him, to trick the entire troop (the one he was sworn to protect)? And why did he let Clover take the fall? Surely he didn't do it on purpose? They were family, after all; as far as blood went, they were all they had left of each other. That had to mean something.

But that smile before unconsciousness had claimed him... Clover has never seen his grandfather so happy before.

A storm of emotion lights him up inside. Rage at having been framed and tricked, grief for what he could lose, fear of what will happen if he can't convince the troop it wasn't him.

What are they thinking right now? He wonders, hot tears building in his eyes. Does Miss Xīnshù feel validated? Does she think I'm a monster? What about the queen mothers?

And then his stomach drops.

What about Pear? Mulberry, Apple, the rest of his darling friends so lovingly dubbed the Fruit Troop? What was Rin-Rin thinking? Was she worried, and if she was, for what? For him, or for her daughter, who was so often within his grasp? What... what about—

The door opens and Clover clamps his hands over his ears, waiting for the screech of stone grinding on itself. Only it never comes, at least not at the intensity he was prepared for, as if the person opening it was taking great care to avoid any unpleasant sound. But considering it's certainly not hush-hush that Clover is down here (and the only one, too), he can't imagine who'd grant him such generosity.

As a familar figure appears, silhouetted by the corridor behind them and illuminated in the dim torch light, Clover understands.

"L-Liú," Clover gasps, scrambling to his feet. He hurries to the front of the cell, hands wrapped tightly around the bars despite how it irritates the scrapes. "I'm so glad you're here."

Marshal Liú doesn't reply. He enters the room in silence, the door closing behind him. Neither does he spare Clover so much as a glance as he pads to a few more sconces and lights them. When Liú finally approaches the cell, he presses his back to the wall beside it, arms crossed. His face is pinched, eyebrows drawn together and nose wrinkled in a thinking expression. The quietness of it all is unnerving, almost suffocating for the boy. But he keeps silent, not daring to break it.

"The troop is furious," Liú finally says. Clover feels his heart pound anxiously. "Xīnshù especially, considering little Blueberry's birth."

"...I know," Clover murmurs, ears pinned.

"And to make matters worse, Wisdom and Courage have been poisoned, too."

Clover's ears immediately perk, eyes wide as fear settles into his body.

No, no, no, he couldn't have—I couldn't have... He didn't...

"Thankfully, they seem to just be asleep. Beng reckons they'll wake in a few hours," Liú continues, and the four-eared macaque can't help but suck in a deep breath of relief.

They're alright. They're going to be fine.

But is he?

Liú steps in front of Clover, then squats, meeting his eyes.

"You understand how bad this is, Clover," Liú says. "The queen mothers and the King are unconscious, save for a single clone, and you were seen both giving Wùkōng tea and giving the mothers fruit. Somehow."

The two lapse into silence with Clover trembling, tears threatening to escape him again.

Liú slowly raises a hand to cover one of the boy's, holding it gently. "No matter how we look at the evidence, you're responsible, Clover."

A sob breaks loose; he can't help it. Clover knows how bad this looks for him, knows that the odds are not in his favor. The amount of people undoubtedly on his side are barely a fraction of Huāguǒshān and no doubt will lose their power when faced with Xīnshù and the Wùkōng clone.

"I didn't do it," Clover sobs, pressing his forehead against the bars. He bends until he's nearly kowtowing, though he refuses to move his hands from Liú's. "I didn't do it. Please believe me."

Liú make a soft noise—a gentle grunt meant to soothe infants, and Clover would perhaps be embarrassed if it didn't work so well.

"I know," Liú soothes. "I know. Rin-Rin and I know you didn't." His free hand snakes through the bars and cradles Clover's face, careful of his ears, and raises his face.

Clover sputters and uses a sleeve to messily wipe his face, shaking. "I'm so sorry," he weeps, eyes shut tight. "It's all my fault. I-I'm so stupid! I'm not even smart enough to g-get my stupid powers under control! M-Maybe if I did, I could've stopped all this!"

And I'd know if Grandpa was really lying to me the whole time, he adds within his thoughts, his teeth biting into his tongue at the wave of anger that bristles down his back.

"Stop that," Liú coos, gentle. "It's not your fault, Clover. I know it's not. You're..."

Clover barely notices the pause, too caught up in all his feelings. But when a second hand cradles his face and pulls him close, his forehead barely ghosting against Liú's, he's granted a brief moment of confused reprieve.

"Liú...?" He asks softly, noticing the wet sheen in the marshal's eyes with a prick of concern.

"You're my boy," Liú whispers, voice cracking. "And in a few days, we'll catch who really did this and you'll come home."

Clover sniffles, fighting off tears once again, and laughs a little. "And Rin-Rin won't let me leave."

"And Rin-Rin won't let you leave," Liú confirms, laughing a little too.

So the two sit there, cooing softly to each other and wiping away tears and fears alike.

And when Liú has to leave, Clover keeps his chin up.

I'm not alone, he thinks.

Blue eyes flash before his mind's eye, and a determined look settles on his face.

And I won't lose to you.

❝ So I dance with brown bears, and my soul is torn apart .❞

#cain speaks #[ 🧨 ]#cain writes #[ 🩸 ]#xiyouji #journey to the west au #jttw au #wukong's mom au #if it's kinda choppy near the end i'm sorry BGBHFD vocab is hard #story is also hard #tear the liu/clover found family out of my cold dead hands #i made up some guys cause uhh filler?#idk #uhh my excuse for clover not being like “y'all it was SEM!!” is bc he still has a sense of loyalty to him #+ he's questioning himself so he doesn't want to get SEM in trouble if he's wrong #hope we enjoy!!

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ohnoanalien · 1 year

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⚠️ The Monkey King Spoilers ⚠️

Posted this scene because I'm predictable and weak.

(I also apologize for recording this on my phone I am technologically inept)

#the monkey king #netflix the monkey king #sun wukong #found family is a requirement and not a preference

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then-be-a-warrior · 2 years

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Saw this on Twitter and it means everything to me-

#if you're important to MK you're important to Wukong #it's the found family for me #lego monkie kid mk #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid english #mk #monkie kid #monkie kid mk #monkie kid english #sun wukong #mei #lmk

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janetbrown711 · 9 months

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M

Fandom: LEGO Monkie Kid

Published: 2023-12-24

Words: 21,466

Chapters: 4/4

Summary:

A collection of stories detailing Zhu Li Na's first 100 days alive, and how she meets those who love her most

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hcdragonwrites · 1 year

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Spring Grooming

(a @digitalagepulao Fanfic)

I had brain fire from listening to Hoizers music so - HAVE A LITTLE FIC OF COMFORT AND BROTHERLY TENDERNESS !

The pines gave off their fresh and sharp scent as the rain continued to drip from them. Needles couldn’t hold the heavy drops up and instead shook them off when the weight became heavy and made their barren bases wet and cool. Pine needles crunch beneath horse hooves, spicing the air further. The rain cleansed the mountain air only for the pilgrims to churn the forest floor in their wake.

Spring was heavy in its breath upon the earth. The rain would have been snow if the sweet kiss of the turning season hadn’t warmed the earth. Instead her rain triggered a riot of colors and initiated animals and plants both to begin to grow again, to seek life, and to awaken from winters cold rest. Ba Longma felt his coat heavy on his body. As a dragon he had never felt the strange mammal tendency to grow hair king in a winter coat to stop the cold from stealing over his bones.

However his horse like form had other instincts, and one was to grow fluffier and thicker about. In the deep snows and the cold hail, when the sleet had slashed the other pilgrims and made their teeth chatter, he had been thankful for his bodies sudden growth. As eldest disciple, the eldest of the brothers among the merry band, it fell to him to carry his Master and tend him. He had spent less days in his humanoid form, and more as a horse - determined with will to carry his master through the worst of storms. To break paths in the frozen snows. The cold couldn’t touch him. Even as the ice formed in his mane and fetlocks, across his body where the sweat rolled off and in his tail.

Now spring was here. Ba felt his body sweating in the heat of the now warmer world. What had given him an edge, an advantage, was now making him suffer. He longed to scratch it off- to seek a low hanging batch of pinewoods and rub himself against them. He had tried to get out of the heat as a man but when he returned to this horse body, it held stubbornly to its habitual rotation. He was a magical steed but even that didn’t prevent the instincts of the seasons from effect his body. Sweat beaded beneath the saddle and it’s blanket, creating a crust of salt that itched and chaffed him. The girth that swung beneath his belly and held the contraption of leather and wood to his back, rubbed and creaked at each step he made.

Ba Longma had noticed the slight cracks beginning to appear in the leather- stiffened by the salt of his body and cracked by the movement. They would need to replace it or Master would experience an unexpected fall when the leather finally cracked and the cloth gave beneath the weight. He held his tongue, walking slowly onward.

When Tripitaka called for a stop for the day, for the mid meal and a bit of rest for himself, along a felt relieved. The terrible itch of his sweat, of the excess fur, had built from annoying buzz to a incomprehensible urge. His instinct was to rub, to roll, to cake his backside in dry cool dirt and to rub himself free of the fur and sweat. It had taken all his will power not to shake himself and beg his Master for a bit of relief.

As Wujing and Bajie set about starting the fire and cooking the rice and setting to chopping and mixing brown sugar into bowls with fruit to make candied sweets for snacking on, it was Wukong that came up to Tripataka and Longma.

“Shifu.” The stone monkey held out a hand and Trip took it. He dismounted, legs bowed from the long day in the saddle. Longma felt a twinge of worry. Did Shifu suffer from saddle sores? Had he been too rocky in his gait? Did he jostle him too much in the saddle ? These things hummed in the eldest disciples mind as Trip made to start taking the tac from his body. A monkey paw reached up and stopped him. “I will take care of Longma.”

“Are you sure Wukong?” Tripataka asked again. He had his hands on the bridle, fingers over the buckles that kept it in place.

“Of course Master. Go go- make sure that Bajie doesn’t eat too many palm fruits before they can be turned to candies.”

“I heard that!” The pig demon snorted, tusks flashing threateningly. They were not as sinister however at the flash of the cheeky smile of the youngest disciple. Trip hesitated only a second more before he settled onto a long and rubbed at his inner calves, relieving the cramps built there from the long day of riding.

Wukong turned an eye back to Ba Longma and the dragon horse saw a twinkle of something there.

“Now brother- I’ve noticed your switching tail all the way from the pine forest to here,” the little monkey crossed his arms taking on a scolding tone, “and you cannot fool me. You are uncomfortable.”

“I am not..” Longma spoke so few times in this shape. It felt strange to have the words rumble up and out of his throat and between teeth that were flat except the canines he retained from dragon shape.

“You lie poorly.” Wukong undid the chin strap of the bridle, pulling the top of the bridle free of Longmas ears. He let gravity slide the metal bit out of his mouth and Longma champed and licked his mouth back into order. Having the bit in his mouth, the metal contraption that sat over his tongue and across his mouth had at first, been something to get used to. Longma didn’t think it was entirely necessary - until he realized that his master was so light of hand and leg that he hardly asked anything of him in the rider fashion. Riding depended on leg and pressure - and Tripataka was too kind to even press his heels to his eldest disciples sides. Longma had decided then to keep the bridle so he could better sense when Shifu asked him to turn or gave the reins a gentle tap to coax him into faster gaits.

“I do not lie Little Brother.” He spoke softly, always feeling ill at ease when he spoke in this shape. “I just silently endure.”

“BAH!” The Monkey set the bridle carefully on a overturned stump and came back. He went for the girth, that terrible bit of leather that made Longmas under legs itch. “I was the keeper of Heavenly Horses. I learned the body language and silent speech of them. And you may be a dragon in disguise but you speak quite clearly of your discomfort.”

“Swishing tail, ears flicking back at odd intervals- the stamp of a hoof - you are uncomfortable.” The girth came free in a jangle of buckles and bands and Longma breathed out in a gratified snort. The saddle came free, the sticky blanket with it.

Wukong pulled a few hairs from his head and chewed them. When he blew them out he had a brush, a metal band that looked like a comb, an a curved iron piece.

“Let me tend you Brother. You carry our master day in and day out. Let me help as I know how.” The little brother asked, holding up the metal comb. Longma sighed. What he really wanted was to roll very undignified like in a nice patch of earth or sand. Instead he cocked one ear towards the stone monkey and nodded.

Wukong gave a little whoop of triumph then set to work. Though it had been five hundred years since he attended and took care of the horses of heaven, the knowledge of that time hadn’t faded. Wukong took the brush and began to tackle the sweat patch on the dragon horses back. He had to get the worst of the sweat off before it settled into a crust of hair and itchiness. So he set to brushing, first moving in little circles over the withers and down the back to break of where the sweat had tangled in the fur. Dirt and shedding fur came up in a flurry as the monkey worked his magic.

“Brother! You are shedding! You must be so uncomfortable in this heat.” Wukong tutted and cooed back, setting his hands to a flurry. Once the worst of the sweat and road dirt had been brushed and taken off the back, Wukong switched to the metal comb. Carefully and gently, to avoid the press of the metal on the points where the bone jutted or was closer to the surface, he brought the comb up and over. Clumps of the winter coat began to fly free in great flurries of white and grey.

The stone monkey was careful and diligent in his task. He found it soothing to brush and groom, to tend and care as he had when he had been in Heaven but also when he had been among his people. It almost pulled him into a trance like state, the task becoming enjoyable and habitual. Horse skin was sensitive, highly sensitive to the touch of flies on the withers, to the brush their velvet nose to feel sweet shoots of grass. He was gentle in the press of the comb, understanding that the metal bristles could hurt if applied with too much pressure.

Longma felt his head dipping lower and lower as the monkey set to work. Wukong combed his legs, his chest, his withers and shoulders. The relief! Longma felt the cool air kissing his skin as the old winter coat came free. A flurry of hair was gathering at his hooves, a great gathering of white grey fur. The two pilgrims stood in companionable silence, Longma soothed into almost slumber and Wukong consumed with the task of grooming. They were so absorbed they didn’t notice the birds of spring diving and gathering the great tufts of the dragon horses fur. Nesting materials this numerous were not to be frowned upon and the birds had a bountiful harvest for making nests and lining their woven work with the white down of Longmas winter coat.

“There brother doesn’t that feel better ?” Wukong finished removing most of the winter coat. The Monkey chuckled, seeing the half asleep expression upon the dragon horses face. It would be a time before the rest would give way. Winter fur always liked to cling and stay even after the dregs of spring have moved well into a summer balm.

“Alright Ba Longma, let me check your hooves.” The Stone monkey didn’t know if the senior disciple heard him. So Wukong set to the task of hoof care. He gently pressed into the horses leg and Longma lifted the foot instinctively.

“Brother! You have rocks all throughout the crevices!” Wukong truly was appalled now to see the state of the horses hooves. Such impaction with the hooves over time could lead to limping which could lead to further pain or, worse, lameness! Wukong champed his teeth and tutted more.

“You will go lame if you keep silent and then where will we be ?”Wukong spun the pick in hand and set it to the compacted hoof. He dug out the worst of the dirt and compacted little stones, careful of the sensitive parts in the middle of the foot called a frog. People thought horses to be tough and enduring animals when they needed as much care as a mistress of a fancy and rich house. They needed manicures and pedicures, grooming and tending, careful watch of diet and attention to detail. Each leg Wukong grumbled and chided the older disciple at his lack of self care and Longma simply sighed and grumbled. The dragon horse puffed in contentment. Now this… this was the life.

Wukong set the last hoof down and patted the white flank of his companion.

“From now on I will take care of you- we can’t have the senior disciple limping now can we?” Wukong chortled and left his brother to lie down and groan in relief.

“Thank you Brother…” Spring never felt so nice against Longmas now soothed and lighter fur, his brushed and tended body. The horse folded himself into the earth and closed his eyes, ready for a nice long and sweet nap. The birds flitted and landed upon the white flanks, plucking hairs and thick winter fur free. Longma felt none of their little ministrations as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #hcfanfics #fanfic for digitalagepulao #HERE YOU GO!#I got to pull out all my horse knowledge into this from my years living on a ranch #jttw au #jttw tag #sun wukong #ba longma #sun clan au #expedition to the west AU #jttw fanfic #I had fun adding a little bit of comfort for the senior disciple #and Wukong going all calm and grooming? yes.#is it short ? yeah.#short little snippets of slices of life for my friend Pardal because her boys give off found family vibes #because who DOESNT LIKE A FOUND FAMILY TROUPE ?!#pls their art is so pretty too ugh

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