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quitealotofsodapop · 2 months

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Ok, but in the Mother-Child Preggers Tang au... what if it crosses over with Slow Boiled au?

Referencing this post I made about Tang accidentally drinking from the Mother-Child River while the gang are travelling in S3.

Oh gosh i love the idea. In all the chaos of Wukong having his Stone Egg, Tang accidentally gets himself in a similar postition. XD

Throughout the Slow-Boiled Au, Pigsy and Tang frequently prove themselves to be good parents, and with all the talk of Wukong's overdue baby, the freenoodles pair both start to wonder...

Both brush the thoughts off cus they're in their 30s at least, and MK is enough. But the thoughts still crop up time to time.

Then cue Tang getting so thirsty during the S3 team-split, that he takes a big mouthful of river water without boiling it first. Pigsy initially blames the scholar's cramps on giardia. But they were oh so wrong.

Scorpion Queen pretty much forces herself into the gang because she's the only one around who *knows* how the Mother-Child River works. And she's not gonna let her new friends get hurt with all this bone demon business!

Pigsy, unsure: "Hey, Scorpion? I have something I really need to ask about the River." Scorpion Queen: "Sure thing! Ask me anything!" Pigsy, hesistating: "Will... will the baby look just like Tang? Or is some... river god involved?" Scorpion Queen, catching on quickly: "OH! Oh no no no! Theres no river god baby-daddy!" *starts laughing* Pigsy, relieved: "Phew!" Tang: "Aww! Piggy, you were worried!" Pigsy: "I dont mind our kid being a mini-you. I just dont want some gross minor god to have his mitts on ya'." Scorpion Queen, still laughing: "Nah dude! You guys are gonna have a cute little piglet!" Pigsy & Tang: "Wut." Scorpion Queen: "Couples came to the River to have babies all the time! If the drinker had a mate, then the baby would take on the appearance of their partner by absorbing some of their dao. If it didn't, then the Kingdom of Women would have been overrun with inbred clones!" Tang: "Ah, that makes sense." Pigsy: *completely dumbstruck with joy* Wukong, quiet until now: "...wait. Did the ladies back at the village think Master and Zhu Bajie were a mated couple that fumbled the process!? Is that why they laughed so much!?"

And ofc because of their shared situation, Tang and Wukong bond over the rest of the roadtrip. Tang would 100% wear a cringey matching maternity shirt with the Monkey King if they had time to stop for some shopping.

Pigsy breaks the news to the rest of the gang in an... unelegant fashion after the Samadhi Fire ritual went belly-up.

Pigsy: "So uh... stuff happened when we all got separated back in the desert." MK: "Yeah, you said Monkey King got amnesia and thats how Scorpion Queen joined the team." Scorpion Queen: *delighted wave!* Tang: "There's more to it MK..." MK, panicking: "Oh gods, you guys aren't hiding a world-ending secret too, right!? Cus I cannot deal with-" Pigsy, cutting him off: "Tang is pregnant. And we've decided to keep the baby." MK: *struck silent* Sandy, joyfully: "Congratulations! I hope the Monkey King didn't hear too much of you guys making it!" Pigsy, blushing furiously: "NOT LIKE THAT!!!" Tang, amused grin: "How else are babies made, Piggy? I'm certainly not having a stone egg.~" Pigsy, red-faced: "'CUS YOU DRANK THAT STANKY MUD WATER, THATS HOW!" MK, frozen stiff: "Wut."

Needless to say, MK is happy for his parents, but the timing isn't ideal. After LBD is defeated though, MK fully embraces his upcoming baby sibling! XD

Unfortunately the timing also means that Tang spends S4 in a very compromised position.

Yeah, Mother-Child River Tang isn't having a fun time...

#slow boiled stone egg au #mother child river tang au #slow boiled stone egg #pregnancy tw #lmk tang #sun wukong #lmk pigsy #lmk scorpion queen #freenoodles #freenoodlesshipping #lmk #lego monkie kid

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stararch4ngelqueen · 8 months

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Like a Horror Movie

A minor Zombie Ghost drabble to christen this account 💀🧟‍♂️✨

Heavily based off that one quote I saw where someone said Zombie Ghost broke his own jaw so he wouldn’t hurt you. 🙃

—

Is that…?

Your own thoughts grew nearly impossible to register over the chaotic rumbling of helicopter blades nearly half a mile away waiting for you.

“Keep running!” You heard a man’s shouting far ahead of you, or behind you, his accent grown heavier from such amplified, horrified distress in a race against time to outrun the dead.

Where it would take you, you didn’t know, but above ground was safer than the badlands below your aching feet.

The cold rain didn’t help, you weren’t sure why. It mingled with the sweat on your skin, tasting like cloyed gasoline on your tongue as it drooped along your lips. You didn’t want to run, but you had to. Evac had been waiting for you, in a helicopter at the end of the field.

Darkness invaded the night, the moon herself shielding her own eyes with dense, tearful clouds, diluting spilled blood and gasoline down along the earth.

You heard the shouting amidst all the gunfire. The gangrenous stench permeating the darkened fields, the flattened weeds under your boots from endless running.

You didn’t want to run anymore, the distress of your windpipes burning with each breath of air. All the bullets you wasted on reckless gunfire towards the mindless corpses that chased after you like relentless athletes had long since vanished.

You couldn’t stop, you knew that. One goal was on your mind as you continued along, pushing your limits to fight, to survive.

You could only imagine a haven on the other side of this, waiting for you with open, protective arms, promising a safe life that consisted of late mornings waking up to tired, dreary multicolored eyes, as the life you once had burned bright behind you.

You could’ve sworn you had an extra magazine on yourself, a strange attempt to grasp hold of it left you gasping and turning around, instantly failing your mission once you saw a tall, hulking beast coming to an abrupt halt at least eight feet away.

Is that him…? You recognized that uniform, sleeves torn from pitiful attempts to block the bloodied, infected flanges that scratched against his skin before sinking their teeth in.

But, the mask.

It had to be him, the meat on his body still clung to his bones, the decaying process too early still to peel the skin off his face.

“Lass! The fuck are you doing?! Hurry!!” Your partner called to you, the only other survivor from your once strong bodied team.

It was him. There was no one else you knew that was like him.

But, why was he here?? He was supposed to have secured this evac sight. He was supposed to be waiting for you, with a rifle in hand and an outstretched palm, lifting you up onto the platform towards that shimmering haven you desired.

The picturesque of such a high hoped eternity vanished like the snuff of a candle light within a canopy.

The watercolor that made up his eyes had long since washed off its leather canvas, replaced by two pearls without their iridescent sheen, measly shielded by dark, heavy lids.

Oh, Simon.

The way he stared you down wasn’t like that of an undead beast, like in the movies. He didn’t groan, or growl or grunt. As in life, his syllables were silenced by choice, giving him an etch of humanity based off your memory of his personality.

Did you fight? Of course you did. You’d never go down that easily.

But you knew better than to believe he was still alive. Like a stalking beast preparing to pounce, a killer always waits, preparing to pounce at just the right chance.

You weren’t unsuspecting, but waiting. Your heart ringing in your ears, your tears indistinguishable from this odd, putrid acid rain.

You were waiting, because you couldn’t go on. Not like this. You couldn’t see yourself rushing towards that helicopter, towards a dark, dreary existence, towards a life that meant living in dreadful solitude.

Did you scream out? What did you yell? Where did they bite you first?

You simply dropped your pistol, your rifle hanging carelessly by your side. An open target with blinking red lights and white flags, one that even the undead variant of the man you loved wasn’t stupid enough to resist.

Did it hurt? What did you think last? I’m sorry, I wasn’t there to protect you, or stopped you. Stopped you from reaching this point.

But, where did he come from? Why did he chase you all the way here? Or was he waiting for you? Could he tell, or was did this disease render him absolutely starved?

You didn’t need to scream it, you just needed to stand and wait, unable to fight the flinch of his body bursting from his spot, thick mud sloshing under his boots as he ran towards his prize.

When his unlatched, severed jaw failed to make its mark, it didn’t matter. This undead version of the soldier you loved wasn’t the man you knew, yet his ever strong determination remained.

You would’ve closed your eyes, should’ve even, but you couldn’t. Despite your hard flinch, you refused to let your last memory be of darkness as hot, heavy top teeth attempted to sever the sinews of your neck. Humid, heavy fermented breath and blood dampened the fabric fabric protecting your clavicle once his head drops lower, the straps of your helmet proving too pitiful to protect you much longer.

Even in death, he would find a way to kill you. He could break open your rib cage to feast at your quick beating heart inside, and you’d let him, dying while knowing he held onto your heart one last time.

His hands grasped hold of your shoulders, his heavy, dead weight forcing you off your feet in seconds, your tense body preparing to meet the cold, muddy ground.

The world went quiet, the screaming of your teammate ceased, your eyes merely catching a glimpse of the stars peeking through the crying heavens as your lover prepares to eat you whole.

The warmth of cotton sheets remained ever so soothing against the skin along your bare back, a hint of detergent making a pitiful note in the layer of expensive cologne.

An expensive brand you had bought him for his birthday.

Your eyes opened to promptly gaze into the darkness of the night, greeted with muffled breeze beating along your bedroom windows.

“Simon—?” Your croaked, emotional tone rasped out into the warm, stuffy ambiance, your aware self processing the emotions your dream state simply refused.

Warm arms reinforced their hold along your waist underneath cashmere blankets, tattooed skin nestled snug against your back. Usually, you’d hear his patterned breathing as during rare chances you had woken up while he slept, but this time, he merely waited.

Maybe you mumbled words in your sleep, or swatted your hand along his side, something to have roused him from his slumber.

Click. The warmth of a bedside lamplight vanished the darkness blanketing the room, the solidarity of each of your senses pointing out where you were.

Simple, minimalist decorated walls. A rich, dark red throw blanket you recalled wrapping yourself in while on the couch during movie night now sprawled over the corner of your bed.

The very same blanket Simon wrapped you in before carrying you off to sleep, temporarily embracing you in an exotic cocoon as your mind processed which dream you were to have.

“I’m here, love,” his voice rasps against your neck, the bridge of his nose brushing against your lower left clavicle.

Your head turned just enough to meet his gaze as his rose, greeted with the warmth of his tired, half asleep face, his hair slightly rustled after a minor process of anxious, short sleep.

The lamp ignited the warmth in his ever so exhausted eyes. Tiger’s eyes hues submerged in the deep blue waters of Alaska, heavy lids shadowed over with visible concern for your cold sweat riddled distress.

Warm blood pulsing through his heart, urging his cells to maintain the tone of his skin, the hint of pink in his cheeks, the hues of fool’s gold that made up the palate of his irises reflecting off the warm light.

His eyes flicker along the details of your face, as if instantly suspecting something. His hand makes a gentle effort to cup along the outskirt of your bare thigh, his heavy palm settling around your waist.

“Don’t tell me you had a damn nightmare already,” he mutters against your hair, practically able to hear the hitch in your breath after such an unsettling silence.

“Let me guess. The Walking Dead?”

“Nuh uh.” You mumble, silently thankful for the sound of his beating heart close to your ear, a smile tickling your face. “Shaun of the Dead.”

“Christ’s sake,” he grunts out, adjusting the position of his head, settling his cheek along your skull. The upside over movie streaming, he can tell if you’re lying about it in the morning on your watch history.

He didn’t ask what you dreamt of, not yet at least. He didn’t want to know, not unless you offered, or he was cruel enough to pry. For now, Simon wondered what that dream would’ve meant, if it contained the undead.

He thought for a while, wondering if you found yourself dreaming you were bit by a zombie. What an impossible image for him to come by.

Your hair smelled of honey and oat, your skin kissed with warm sugar from your lotion, and a faint butteriness from your homemade dark chocolate drizzled popcorn you made for horror movie night.

No, you were too sweet to be considered sickly deceased in such a crude manner. Him, however?

No, no he began to suspect, but those were thoughts he refused to ponder.

“Only one week in, an’ you’ve lost it. Don’t plan to watch anything with zombies for next weekend.”

“What about… Friday the 13th?”

“Pick something else in the morning, go back to sleep princess.”

Y’know how you’re trying to sleep and you wake up after feeling like falling? Imagine that. That’s what happened.

Idk how to write zombies, so this is all I got 🧍🏽‍♀️📱

#simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod #cod modern warfare ii #cod zombies #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon Riley zombie #ghost zombie #zombie ghost #his jaw wiggles #until his jaw falls off #until it’s jaw dropping to the floor #until it pops back on like a Lego piece #until it falls into the river in Lego City

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