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#rip what could have been
thefoolfolio · 16 hours
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In memoriam of Chi-Chi’s dad being a literal giant
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godthinksabel · 1 year
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sluckythewizard · 16 days
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YOU JUST HƎARD IT FROM [HIS MOUTH] FOR SURƎ!!!
#cw gore#cw blood#jrwi fanart#jrwi suckening spoilers#jrwi suckening#BEEN VEHEMENTLY SCRIBBLING THIS THING ALL DAY#IM SO FUCKING IN LVOE W THE NEW EPISODE#VIV N VEX ARE LITERALLY EVERYTHING I COULDVE EVER WANTED. I LOVE BLOOD AND MEAT AND BLOOD AND MEAT#THE SCRIBBLE IS KINDA ROUGH SO DONT LOOK AT IT TOO HARD BUT EHEHEHEEEE THE FACE THAT I CREATED UNNERVES ME#AND IM VERY HAPPY ABOUT THAT. I LOVE CREATING SOMETHING AND HAVING IT EVEN SLIGHTLY PHASE ME#I LOVED ALL THE TOOTH RIPPING NOISES IN THIS EPISODE. AHVE U EVER HAD A TOOTH REMOVED?#SHE USED A BLUNT METAL TOOL TO PUNCH IT OUT. IT REMINDED ME OF THE SPLINTERING OF A TREE. THE WAY IT TORE.#SUCH A SPECIFIC SORT OF CRUNCHING AND SPLINTERING AS A MOLAR WAS RRRRIPPPEEDD FROM THE SOCKET. OHH I LOVE IT.#GOING IN FOR A ROOT CANAL NEXT WEEK AND IM VERY EXCITED. ALL THE DENTISTS LOVE ME N ARE SO NICE TO ME#WHAT A GREAT EPISODE. I HOPE THE URGE TO DRAW MORE STRIKES ME LIKE THIS AGAIN. WEEEE!!#I WANNA ANIMATE EMIZEL GETTIN HIS EYE RRIPPED OUT. BUT. IM ALREADY COOKING 3 OTHER VIV N VEX ANIMATIONS#THERES NO WAY THEY WILL ALL BE FINISHED HELP!! HELP MEE!!!! I HAVE TO MANY IDEAS AND NOT ENOUGH HANDS. DO U GUYS REMEMBER HTF?#OR HAPPY TREE FRIENDS. THE CUTE ANIMAL SHOW W ALL THE BLOOD AND GORE AND TERRIBLE TERRIBLE THINGS HAPPENING TO THE CUTE ANIMALS#in elementary school i would show the 'eyes cold lemonade' to other kids and tell em thats how they make pink lemonade.#hope that helps you undertsand. i wish i could make a lil cartoon w just viv n vex doing what they do best#LOST MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT. IM GOING BACK TO MY LAB. DONT EXPECT TO HEAR FROM ME IN A MILLION YEARS
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lady-harrowhark · 1 year
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I promise I’m going somewhere with this but I am currently fixating on how seeing Naberius’s trident knife in the beginning of HtN gives Harrow the Gideon Memory Migraine™, despite no clear connection to Gideon:
Ianthe considered this. She nudged the confection basket hilt of the rapier at her hip aside, and took out a long knife that, again, ran a hot rill of pain down your temporal bone. It was—though you had never bothered to learn—Tern’s main-gauche, his trident knife, a long blade from which two other blades would spring at the press of some hidden mechanism; she flicked that mechanism now, and with a snickt they burst out like a firework, two hard points of gleaming steel. She flicked it again, and the blades went snickt back into their housing.
Is it simply that it’s something from the Canaan House era in general? Or is there more going on? Stick with me here.
One of my pet theories I’ve been harboring since Kiriona’s wounds were revealed is that Harrow herself wounded Gideon after she threw herself on the fence, paralleling Jesus’s side wound from being speared after his crucifixion. They needed to ensure Jesus was truly dead, and presumably Harrow also needed to be well and truly sure that Gideon was dead before proceeding. Ianthe says she put a sword through Naberius’s heart to pin his soul in place for her ascension, and we see his body run through with the sword. Harrow needing to do the same to Gideon would certainly be some very juicy angst fuel.
The other crucial component here is one of my other favorite pet theories: that Harrow knew Gideon’s sword was haunted, likely before even coming to Canaan House. I’ve seen a few people do some more detailed explanations about that, but I’ll do a brief rundown here. 
Harrow says as far back as GtN about the sword “I never liked that cursed thing anyway; I always felt like it was judging me.” After the events of HtN with the River and Canaan House 2.0, we know she has an innate and potentially subconscious talent with spirit magic; it seems likely she was able to sense what was in the sword whether she knew exactly what was going on or not.
In HtN, Guideline #3 in her her pre-lobotomy letters to her post-lobotomy self has several stipulations (wipe it down with arterial blood nightly, coat it in regenerating ash, don’t cut flesh or bone with it) that sound a lot like precautions one would take to keep a soul from hopping out of it.
When discussing the sword with Abigail in Canaan House 2.0, we get some very specific qualifiers around how much information Harrow is able to provide about the sword. Directly before remembering that the sword was Gideon’s we have: “Harrow’s brain, though still a jumble, was no longer a mess in a darkened room. Memory had gifted her a small torch she could light the disarray with.”
After that, she struggles to recall further details, her own brain providing obstacles: “The light was not proving helpful enough: she was, in desperation, kicking over piles of the rubble in her own brain.” In the end, she’s able to tell Abigail: “I hated that damned sword for years. I don’t know why; it just felt strange - rancorous. I cannot deny that I often assumed its edge would be the last thing I saw. I don’t know.”
Circling back to the final battle of GtN, we get my favorite little nugget of support for this: Harrow is described as looking “affrighted” when Gideon tells her to go get her two-hander. I’d initially taken that to mean she was startled (and maybe a bit annoyed) to find out that Gideon had brought it at all, or freaked out at the situation in general. But I’ve begun to wonder if she specifically didn’t want Gideon to bring that sword with her to Canaan House because she knew, or at least suspected, what it contained.
Which brings us to the trident knife. If Harrow needed to fix Gideon’s soul in place by impaling her herself, and she knew there was a malevolent soul in the two-hander that could conceivably hitch a ride in another body that it came into contact with, she would have needed a different tool for the job… Which may very well have been the trident knife. Seeing the weapon she used to mutilate her cavalier’s body with seems like exactly the sort of thing that would bring on one of Harrow’s Gideon-induced headaches, no? It’s also notable that when Harrow sees this knife, it’s directly before Ianthe stabs her through the hand, again analogous to crucifixion wounds. I gotta say, if this holds water, there’s a certain poetry to both Harrow and Gideon receiving versions of the Holy Wounds on the blade of the same knife.
(Edit to add: further theorizing prompted by @camilla-rekt‘s fab addition can be found on this reblog)
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zivazivc · 1 month
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Does creek exist in your trolls universe 🤨
he exists in the form of decomposed forest soil
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arcturite · 5 months
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Kill your goth boss
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37 years ago today steve harrington shot his shot at bisexuality only for eddie munson to call him ‘big boy’ and promptly die 🖤
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hcdragonwrites · 8 months
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Too Close ( A @jttw-monkeybusiness Fanfic)
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So this started as one thing and then It grew its own will and became another. I hope you enjoy!
TW: Blood and Gore- Violence as well. If these make you squeamish or can trigger you please read my other works instead!
It was supposed to just be a meal- a simple outing to the market square to buy up some noodles at a shop stand Pigsy had seen on the way through. It was supposed to be simple, easy day.
The market stall exploded in a shower of wood and porcelain as the monstrous thing rose from the stand. Sophie rolled, dodging the flying debris as best she could. A sliver of wood cut across her cheek but she felt nothing. Her mind only had one thing in it.
Oh shit that’s a massive snake.
But it wasn’t a snake. The head that toward from the market as the rest of the villagers fled, resembled a snake. It’s slitted eyes blinked and forked tongue tasted the air. Heat rippled outward from its body. The grasses dried in the damn soil. The earth that had moments ago been anointed with summer rain, cracked and snapped brittle in the sudden heat. Sophie felt her lips dry and her face chap in the change of temperature.
A grunt from nearby. Sophie turned to see Sandy rise from a cast off wall, a huddle Tripitaka in his arms. The snake head swayed, tongue tasting. It snapped its focus to Sandy and coiled its head back. A maw of pink and long silver teeth flew forward. The disciple threw up the discarded wall just in time for the things great teeth to be buried into wood instead of Flesh. Trip was no fool and at Sandy’s nod, escaped beneath his arm.
Sophie could hear Pigsy howling curses nearby from somewhere. The dust was still settling, the dried earth kicked upward as more of the things body was revealed. Fuck it had wings. Four black leathery wings grew from its back at disjointed angles. They beat unevenly. Their wind threw dirt and rocks into the air. The feel of it stung Sophie’s cheek. The Monk reached her then- hand outstretched. She caught it and he hauled her up off the dirt.
Run. Her heart seemed to thrash in her chest. Sophie saw more of the beast being revealed from the ruins of the market. An impossibly long coiled body- legs- more clawed legs. Six of them?- juxtaposed throughout its flesh at odd angles. She felt like she was moving too slow. Moving as if her blood was full of ice.
Those eyes blinked and the pupil widened. Sandy held the things face in his hands, the wooden wall king destroyed. The River demon strained as the thing bore down on him, all saliva and flashing fangs.
It could swallow him whole. Sophie felt a cold shiver run down her back as Trip and her fled. There was nothing either of them could do. They were mortals. This thing was beyond their ken. Beyond their ability. And it could swallow us whole.
Of course fleeing targets attract more attention then prey standing still. The great demonic beast of droughts shook off the irritable ant holding its fangs and dipped its head. The scent had been with the little thing before it but … it had moved. It smelled delectable. The tongue whipped out again, seeking. There- among the fleeing mortals this monster had disdainfully had been serving for the past years in hopes of devouring in return- was the taste. It was a man- a man hand in hand with a women. Two for the price of one. There was an irritable pain at its side but the Drought Bringer simply flicked one of its long claws and flapped its wings higher.
Into the air it rose- away from the sting of the weapons. The town with its simple huts and mud wall fell away. The demon rose up and angled itself. Heat radiated off, burring away the cloud cover and killing trees and greens all around it.
The monk would not get too far.
It coiled.
And struck out.
Sophie and Tripitaka were almost beyond the wall and into the rice fields. The heat had dried those up, killing crops and scattering the water into vapour. Villagers- merchants and Mothers, field workers and Fathers- all streamed to the exits.
They were almost out.
Sophie felt a prickle of fear, a new wave of apprehension swell in her mind. For what- for why- she didn’t know. What made Sophie turn her head then, to look back, she would never know. But she was glad for whatever spirit, god, or instinct made her look back.
A maw full of silvered fangs, of needle tips curved back and outward. An avalanche of heat and horror. She reacted and threw herself sideways. Tripataka, still holding her hand, was dragged with her.
The serpent struck the earth, sending an earthquake outward. Buildings shivered and collapsed. Children screamed and mothers called out. Sophie pulled the monk up beside her, trying to get him to rise. They didn’t have much time. She had bought them but a moment, but a second. They had to move had to get the fuck out of there.
“Trip get up-“ Sophie begged. The monk was trying- it looked like he had twisted something in his leg at the sudden fall. Up up up up up up get up please.
A angry hiss as the earth cracked more. The demon raised its head. It’s mouth was full of stone and dirt. And a few dangling limbs. The creature dropped these and angled it’s head again. It’s body coiled, it’s clawed and displaced legs curling.
Their second was up.
Sophie couldn’t look away- she wanted to- but it was the same feeling a rabbit, over exhausted and run down, experiences when cornered by a fox. The sense of frozen dread. She could no more look away then the rabbit could overcome its fear.
Of course the human mind is a strange thing for the only thing that Sophie could think on was, We didn’t even get to eat the damn noodles we paid for.
Something flashed, a glitter a bit above the serpents head. Like the flash of a moth wing in moonlight.
Wha—
A pillar of black and gold materialized where the flash had been. Such a small insignificant staff.
Sophie knew that staff.
The staff elongated over the monsters head. It slammed straight into the back of the snakes skull. The sound of iron against bone rang in the sky like a thunderclap. The demon cried in confusion and pain- an unholy scream that sent the air to shaking. The staff drove the things face down into the soil, just feet away from Sophie and Tripataka. Bones snapped, the sound of scale cracking beneath the iron rod as it drove down, down, down, down. The earth cracked with the impact.
The pressure was too great. The hide split as the earth could not give anymore and blood came in a spray of red.
The demon, the great Drought Bringer, rolled a bloodshot eye upward. A iron rod ? Was that what fell it ? Something so insignificant. A shadow loomed from the sunlight. Feet pressed on the demons head.
The demon knew this creature - this mild looking and bored Monkey- and felt the contents of its stomach turn to water. Those eyes slashed downward, making the serpent flinch.
The burning heat in this demons gaze—
Sun Wukong knelt on the dying beasts skull the iron staff of Ruyi Jingu Bang resting across one shoulder. Those yellow eyes went from flaming to disinterested as the demonic monkey looked at the mortals.
“I told you the market was a bad idea.”
The blond haired women who had avoided the great Drought Bringers strike, shot up on her legs from the rubble.
“ARE you SERIOUS?!”
“I am. I told you all it was a bad idea.”
“You couldn’t have said that there was a demonic flying snake?!?”
“Do you think the bastard pig would have listened to me if I had ?” Wukong huffed. He swung a foot languidly off the side of the serpents skull. Wukong tapped the golden circlet on his brow. “I would have gotten another headache by this dumb band.”
“WUKONG A WHOLE TOWN WAS DESTROYED!”
“Bah.” He waved his hand at that. “It was gonna be destroyed. This beast wouldn’t have waited any longer to eat again.”
The foot pressed into the gore in the back of the demons spine and a half gasp, half cough, of pain exhaled from between broken jaws. The serpent didn’t remove its eye from the Demon king above it.
It had heard stories. Legends of five hundred years ago when it had been but a hatchling, of a monkey of stone waging war against Heaven. Of almost succeeding in bending that great power into a kowtow.
“WUKONG WE ALMOST GOT SWALLOWED WHOLE BY A FUCKING BIG ASS SNAKE.” Sophie retorted.
“Naw. I had it all under control.” Wukong tapped the edge of his staff now onto the creatures head.
“Though it is taking awhile to die…”
The serpent felt the monkey lean forward. The burning gaze was back now that the simian wasn’t staring at the women.
“Tougher than I thought you were.” His voice had become softer. “Survive a blow - even to just bleed out like a bloody hog- is no easy feat with my staff.”
The pressure from his clawed feet pricked the broken scales long the serpents skin. Those claws were drawing blood. The monkey leaned down to whisper almost sweetly.
“You never were going to get your fangs into them you disgusting worm. Wanna know why? Because I’m Sun Wukong. I am the Great Sage. And your Tale-” the weight of the monkey felt oppressive, his claws digging harder into the tender broken scales. “-your insignificant little blip in history is at an end.”
The monkey foot was the last thing the serpent, the Feiwei, saw before the staff was driven down again into its eye. The blindness as the pupil exploded under the contact and the sharp pain as the staff drove through the eye socket and into the recesses of the skull were the serpents last feelings.
Demonic minds were not like mortals. They did not flit between two threads of disconjointed emotions. The Feiwei knew it’s end and bitterly died.
The demon gave a final strangled gasp as it twitched once, twice and then was no more. The remaining demons eye rolled in its head. Crimson blood wept from the exposed eye socket and the broken skull. It mixed with the dirt to make a black patch in the soil. At the serpents death the air stopped its dry repression and eased in its intense heat.
Wukong stepped off lightly from the dead serpents head. His feet crossed through the bloody wake and up to Sophie who still stood, a bit dumbfounded, over Tripataka.
That was brutal. Sophie thought.
Then her body remembered itself and her stomach seized at the scent of demon blood. Bile burned up the back of her throat.
Please please please don’t throw up. That was the last thing she needed. Sophie pulled Tripataka up.
The monk hissed and winced as his weight tried to take his foot. And crumpled.
“Is it broken?” Sophie worried. She didn’t see any tears in the skin- any blood. Blood.
Again she fought a wave of nausea. The back of the demons neck had been cut wide open- almost as if obliterated- by a single strike. The trauma of the loss of so much bodily mass to a central location, the skull, had been enough to kill it but it had lived on. Just long enough for Wukong to stab it in the eye.
“Not … not broken. Just sprained.” Trip smiled, sweat building on his brow. “Sophie .. thank —“
Tripatakas words died on his throat as he disciple came into full view. And he blanched.
“Stupid beast.” Wukong picked his claws, flicking some of the blood free from their tips. The stone monkey was absolutely painted in crimson, having delivered the blow and standing behind the beast as it fell. Dark ichor dripped from the side of his face, matting the fur in places that the blood was thickest in.
“See Master ?” Wukong grinned- not helping the two mortals as they both struggled with their aversions: Tripataka for violence and Sophie for blood.
“I almost died ….” Trip muttered, the shock coming over him then.
“There there Trip.” Sophie soothed - but she sounded wooden as she also felt her stomach heave. Gods and spirits the blood stank.
“Why does everything bad happen to me?”
“It’s ok Trip.”
“Why is it always devouring they try and accomplish?! Buddha it’s breath stank of rot.”
“Most human eating demons don’t have pretty breath.”
Wukong, oblivious or willfully blind to the mortal dilemmas unfolding before him, swaggered closer.
“Well! That’s another monstrosity down. Solved with violence.” Wukong barred his teeth. His mood was improved from when they had first arrived and none had taken his warning seriously. Not even Sophie. That was an insult. She was lulled in by Pigsy who kept regaling all with the tales of this unique little village.
Utter drivel. Wukong had seen real food wonders- Hell he came from the most fruitful mountain in the world! What could some boiled water and limp noodles compare to the tastes of flower fruit mountain?
Wukong turned, leaning against his staff as he rested it against the ground. “Sophie did ya see that ?”
“Yes.” Her voice was tight as she watched the blood drip off Wukong.
“You didn’t throw up?” He inquired with a flash of teeth.
“… no I didn’t.” Her stomach kept trying to make her mouth open up but Sophie was stronger then that.
“HA! Soft women don’t lie! You look just as pale as when that thing was diving at you!” Wukong laughed, his tail twitching in humor. “How would either of you get by without me?”
“Wukong maybe nows not the time—“ Sophie tried but was brushed over as Wukong puffed his chest up and grinned all the wider.
“I, the great Sun Wukong have saved my master again. Did I not do a great job dispatching the beast for you master ?” It was half mock, half fishing for compliments. He did just slay a demonic multi limbed serpent out of the sky.
“Wukong…”
“Not even praise ?!” Well that was dreadfully disappointing. He expected some sort of good job from the monk.
Sophie wanted to roll her eyes. Can’t he read the room?
“Wukong you did a fantastic job!” Sophie would try and smooth things over. While also not suffering from her flipping stomach. “Amazing. It’s just the — the blood— it stinks. Worse then normal. —“
“I know you are thankful because you have decent sense but I want to hear it from him!”
At this moment Tripataka stood straight suddenly. He calmly limped to one of the bushes. And promptly vomited.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wukong huffed, irritable even in the hot springs warmth. He had a bucket in one hand and a washboard in the other, and had scrubbed the blood free of his clothes. Pants, shirt, tiger skin- it all had to be washed. Of course Wukong had pilfered some soap awhile back from the Market square the Pilgrims had passed through. He had set to work, scrubbing and pulling and worrying over the clothing until it was clean. He knew he had to clean it. He took pride in his looks and decorum. Wukong would have gone to the spring naturally on his own in time.
Wukong twitched the edge of his tail annoyed.
He was aware he was a bit unkempt after saving Sophie and Tripataka from the Feiwei. He had just batted the thing out of the air into the earth. There was bound to be blood and gore after a swing like that. Sophie had given him a brief berating of getting himself cleaned up- and when he had asked and demanded for what was rightly his - praise, thanks, AT LEAST A YOUR WELCOME- Sophie had promised him that she would lavish him in praise if he would just get clean.
Fine. If his Master wouldn’t spoil him in praise and was currently giving his attention to Sandy then the Monkey would wheedle it out of Reader.
Wukong sunk lower into the water, thinking. He hadn’t let the group go into the town without him. Though he had threatened and grumbled and said “fuck that” Wukong had set a double to follow from above, watching. Of course the Pig would follow his nose to the demons lair. Of course he would assure the others that there was no way this could be a demon.
Wukong swore the Pig was out to get them killed half the time.
Well the rest was predictable. As soon as that wiggling worm had taken one sniff of the monk, he had grown all greedy and hungry and hadn’t been able to keep its human disguise.
Wukong had the whole situation under control though- it had just - taken him a moment to wake up from his dozing. The snake had gotten a bit close. Maybe the invisible double had shoved the two mortals just a bit too hard. That twisted ankle of the Monks would take some time to heal. Luckily the village headman had given the group his home- a little but set back into a bit of shaded pine and with its own hot spring - to rest und for as long as needed. And while Wukong had endured the grating reprimand of Pigsy at being late, the monkey had felt a bit smug. His deeds had scored them nice lodgings.
Wukong wouldn’t care about where they slept. The Monkey King could simply find a nice patch anywhere and curl up. The boon I’m his cap though was the absolute excited light sweep into Sophie’s eyes at the mention of beds and pillows and a roof over their head.
Wukong pulled himself out of the water, the steam rising off of his body in the twilight air. It had been enough time since him washing his clothes to his longs soak that, in the summer sun, had dried enough. Maybe not the shirt but his trousers had. The rest would have to wait till morning. Wukong had a Reader to annoy now.
Sophie was in heaven. After the hellish day of demonic snakes and almost getting devoured, Sophie was comfortable and cozy and all too happy to rush to the futon that had been dragged into the center of her little room.
A bed. Clean clothes. A full belly. The horror of the day was an echo but it was still there. If she closed her eyes she could still hear it- still smell the hot breath blasting across their faces.
A knock on her door had her start from the memory.
Who’s that ?
It wouldn’t be Pigsy. The man had passed out hours ago after the steamed buns and broth the village headman had left for them. Maybe it was Sandy? That didn’t seem likely since he was currently nursing Tripitakas twisted ankle. It would be better after the swelling went down.
Did Wukong really take me up on my offer of praise?
“READER OPEN THE DOOR.”
Yep. There was only one stone monkey that sounded that annoyed yet still knocked with the politeness. Sophie stepped to the door and opened it.
And stared just a little.
She had been expecting to see a fully clothed Sun Wukong leaning against her door. What she hadn’t been expecting was a half dressed Wukong with his arms crossed over his chest. And emphasizing that he most certainly did not have a shirt on.
“Where’s your shirt?” Brilliant Sophie. Blurt the first thing that comes to mind. Wukong pushed off the doorframe and past her into the room, giving her a clear view of his pecs, his shoulders, his back.
Pull it together girl and get your mind out of the gutter.
“I had to clean it since you and the monk threw a sick fest at a little bit of blood.” The monkey sat down, crossing his legs beneath him. At least he knows how to make himself comfortable.
“Right…” Sophie watched as Wukong began to slide his fingers through the wet fur along his back, beside his face and over his arms. Grumbling as his nails seemed to catch and pull in the longer bits of his fur. Wukong flexed his arms to reach a spot. The ripple of muscle along his back was unexpected.
Sophie felt her face flame up. I’m glad he’s so wrapped into himself because if he saw what I looked like right now—
“Well I’m clean now but my fur is all snarled.” He snapped. The monkey was currently struggling with a knot of fire at the base of his neck.
“I have a brush you can borrow.” Anything to get my head out of that space and back in line with normal thinking. She crossed the mats and grabbed her bag. Sophie plucked her brush free from its place, walking back to Wukong. She was a bit startled he was watching her, his eyes half closed in thought.
“You know what… this wouldn’t have happened if you had just followed my warning women.”
“What?”
“A mess is what you and Pigsy and Trip caused.” Wukong leaned his head back and let the water still clinging to his fur, drip downward. “All because you didn’t listen to the warning I gave.”
What was she supposed to do? Sophie had been hungry, had been just as trusting of Pigsys judgment of what was mortal and what was maligned hungry demonic pretending to be mortal. She tried to pass the brush to Wukong, hoping that if she gave him what he wanted he would leave off his snippy comments.
The monkey raised an eyebrow at the brush.
“You can take it ya know- it’s as good as any comb you have.” Sophie lifted the brush and ran it through her hair in demonstration. Hers was a simple hairbrush with short bristles and a worn handle from use.
“Back on the mountain many female members of my kingdom would kowtow and beg for a chance I’m about to give you.” Wukong said.
Chance ?
The monkey king closed her hands over the handle. He turned, setting his hands on his knees as his back faced her now. “Not everyone gets the chance I am giving you- so be grateful.”
“You want me to… brush you?”
“Brush my fur.” It was more command then question.
“Alright.”
Sophie began at the tops of his shoulders. The short bristled brush caught in the hair and slide free, leaving it untangled. Wukongs fur was thick enough to be like her own hair and the brush carefully and methodically by Sophie’s hand, worked through the thickest patches of fur. At places she would have to switch to a comb, one Wukong slid soundlessly from his pocket and passed back to her. This was strangely nice… if not a bit intimate. The constant motion of the brush, of the task, was helping her still jittery mind calm and work through the events that had led up to them being here in a house. With her grooming Wukong.
“When did you know about the demon?” It came tumbling from her mouth before she could stop it.
“As soon as we came upon the village.” Wukong answered. He had his eyes closed, tail swaying against the wooden floor. “The townspeople stank of demon. Seems that beast has been feeding them up to try and cultivate some souls.”
“Sounds like how some insects raise other bugs” Like how ants raise aphids.
“Or like how mortals raise cattle.” Wukong commented.
“Mmm” Sophie felt her mind run through the memories again. The serpent lashing out- and her ability to drag Trip out of the way of that strike. Of the great snake lifting it’s head from the broken earth. Of it lunging a second time. We both could have been dead so fast. No one would have known. Wukong had been left behind, Pigsy had been thrown off somewhere. Only Sandy knew what may have happened to them. Sophie’s brushing slowed.
A snap of fingers made her blink out of the memories.
“Speak.”
“Speak?”
“Don’t parrot me.” Wukong opened his eye just a fraction to shoot her a glare. “ Something on your mind, you stupid women. Spit it out.”
“I thought… I thought we were dead..”
“You would have been if I hadn’t come!” Wukong reached back and took her hand in his. The Monkey king moved the brush up to his head where the fur was in a most disheveled state. Sophie started to gently untangle it, careful of how hard or how fast she worked. He may be able to burst from fires and come away without any lacerations but he may not take kindly to a mortal carelessly tugging at his fur. The wet strands moved slowly through the bristles as he talked. “Makes you want to take heed of a Kings words hmm?”
For all his boasting and puffing up, for all his prideful japes and comments… he almost had been too late. If she hadn’t yanked Trip. If they hadn’t run … “You almost weren’t there though…”
“Sophie.”
“Yea?”
He was turned about, facing her dead on before she could blink. Wukongs yellow eyes looked over her then. Little scrapes here and their. No major cuts. Except for the still red and puffy slice along her cheek. Wukong reached forward and ran a thumb over the slice. I should have sent more then one invisible douple.
“You wouldn’t have been eaten.” He would lessen her worry, and reaffirm his abilities. Had she forgotten? He was Sun Wukong- no demon could stop him. “I wouldn’t have let it happen. I would have torn the bastard apart before it got even a flick of spit on you. You or the monk.”
And next time I’ll make sure I leave them with two invisible doubles instead of one.
Sophie had frozen when he brushed his hand across her face. He was being kind, sensing her turmoil over it all. She was about to say something in kind, something to match that kindness.
“It’s my duty to protect the weak mortals on this quest. It would reflect badly on me as King of Flower Fruit Mountain if I let those under my care get devoured by some slimy worm.” Of course he couldn’t resist the opportunity to flaunt his importance.
“That almost sounds like reassurance.” Sophie sighed. She raised the brush up again in silent question.
“It is reassurance.” He affirmed. Wukong nodded once at the brush, spinning back around. “No harm comes to those that are in my care.”
“Well. Then if it only takes brushing your fur for that… I would be happy to do it every night.”
Wukongs tail gave a little flick. They spent the rest of the night talking, trading quips and jokes. As the of cicadas from beyond the doors blended with the soft swish of the brush, a feeling of contentment and camaraderie fell between the two. And something … more grew.
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time-slink · 8 months
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kept drawing joel and grian looking the same so trying to work on that ;v;
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wiltkingart · 2 months
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Love that you can see Taelle'teth's hand veins. That's not a detail I see explored in character designs often
thank you for noticing that detail. are you some manner of pervert? the same as me? 🌹
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sweetandglovelyart · 4 months
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skunkes · 4 months
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going to be trying to fully organize/clean my room soon (maybe) and why's getting rid of stuff so hawrd like what if i really really want to reread thru books i read in middle school someday
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idk-bruh-20 · 1 year
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Irondad fic ideas #132
Peter loses so many backpacks, Tony starts numbering them like his suits: "backpack mark 5," "backpack mark 13," "here you go kid, backpack mark 49."
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autism-corner · 2 months
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an ode to what could have been o7
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pastelaeqy · 4 months
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wip
dbh brainworms have been lasting too long
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livwritesstuff · 7 months
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only context needed -> it's 2001, steve and eddie are established foster parents, and they just had a newborn baby dropped off on their doorstep enjoy :)
Eddie appears behind Steve only a moment after an unnamed social worker passes off to him a newborn baby and disappears.
“Oh…shit,” he says, “That…yeah, that’s a baby. Was that…”
“Not our caseworker. Couldn’t make it, I guess.”
“Huh,” Ed replies, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, this never gets old. Well…she’s here, I guess...dibs on going shopping.”
“Fine by me,” Steve replies, adjusting the way he’s holding the tiny baby as he begins to make his way back down the hallway, “You can install the car seat while you’re at it.”
“Oh come on, Stevie.”
“I’ll text you a list.”
Eventually Ed does leave, and he begrudgingly takes the car seat with him (sucker, Steve thinks as he watches him go, because that thing is a bitch to install but he totally would have done it if Ed asked nice enough, but he’d do anything for Ed if he asked nice enough). The baby is asleep, and he’d like her to stay that way for as long as possible, so he unfolds the portable crib he’d dug out of the hall closet and then gets back to cooking dinner.
Steve is wrapping up the final steps of the paella recipe when the baby begins to cry. He hopes it’s not a hungry-cry or a diaper-cry, because he can’t exactly help her with any of those things until Ed gets back, but it turns out to be a woke up and didn’t know where she was -cry (or maybe it’s a was in the goddamn womb forty-eight hours ago and now doesn’t know what the fuck is going on -cry; Steve doesn’t blame her either way), because as soon as he’s got her cradled in his arms again, she calms down. He finishes cooking one-handed, and just as he’s plating up dinner, the door to their apartment opens.
Eddie walks into the kitchen, and Steve looks up just in time to watch his jaw slacken as his eyes fall on the way he’s holding the little baby.
“So how’d it go?” Steve asks nonchalantly.
“Jesus Christ, Steve.”
“What?”
“God, dad really is your final form.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, though he can’t quite manage to quell the hint of a smirk on his lips before he turns back towards the stove.
“You know precisely what that means,” Ed replies tiredly.
“How did the shopping go?” Steve repeats, because Ed’s ability to productively shop by himself has been a bit of a toss-up ever since he started having a serious amount of disposable income.
Much to Steve’s immediate concern, Ed begins to bring bag after bag after bag in from the hallway.
“It went excellent, I’ll have you know. We’re gonna need a whole-ass shed for all the diapers, and she’s got clothes for the next hundred years.”
“That’s great,” he replies, replacing the baby in the crib, “She’ll be this size for the next forty-five minutes. Formula?”
“Done. Did you know that baby socks are so fuckin’ tiny, Steve?”
Steve looks at him for a long time.
“Is this your way of telling me you bought a lot of baby socks?”
Ed doesn’t immediately answer.
“Ed.”
“Yes — dinner ready? I’m starving.”
Steve rolls his eyes as he turns away — purely to hide the smile he can’t force down, because there’s something so goddamn cute about Ed getting excited about buying baby clothes (but for the sake of their bank account, he can’t let him know he feels that way).
“Dinner’s ready, go sit down.”
And because he can’t help it, he asks —
“So the dad thing does it for you?”“Steve, the dad thing did it for me when you were dad to our fifteen year old friends. Of course it’s gonna do it for me with a newborn fuckin’ baby. Jesus H. Christ.”
mildly edited excerpt from ch 1 of plant a seed (we'll watch it grow)
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