#er drabbles

[moechies]

kissing up on sukuna.｡o○

“what’re you doing brat? stop it.”

your lips assault the man’s face, peppering sweet kisses along his plentiful tattoos. he’s always been sensitive where the black ink littered across the skin of his body, and you figured that out not long after he took you as his dearest wife .

he squirms away from your touch, a light push against your chest, “stop it.”

“what.. you don’t like it?” you purr, rubbing the sticky gloss off of his cheek. he doesn’t answer you, only a petulant frown that paints his face, likely embarrassed of the slight flush in his cheek. you don’t mind.

“can i do it more ?” you ask sweetly , although he’d never ever say no. he does his best to sit below you obediently, but can’t help but grumble when he feels your sticky lipgloss transfer onto his skin. the scent of artificial strawberry is nauseating to him, and he doesn’t get why you like it. but for you, he thinks he’ll deal with it.

for now at least, until he gets so fed up with it he ends up throwing it away. but don’t fret, he’d repay you by buying you a variety of new designer products that would last a life time, just so you don’t complain.

“ do you like me ryomen? “

his eyebrow raises,

“you think i’d let someone i didn’t like torture me like this?” he grumbles, your cheeks in between his fingers forcing you to face him whilst you spoke.

“admwit it, say you wike me pwease.” your voice slurred due to his grip on your face.

“you’ll say it if you weally do !”

“no. you already know that i do. why should i say it?”

“pleaseee , ryomen ?”

he sighs, letting go of your jaw allowing you to rest yourself on his chest.

“i like you.”

“y’ do? really?!”

“you know that! i married you!”

“but you never said it until now! now it feels real.” you look up at sukuna with a dopey smile, eyes bright and so full of love he swears he sees hearts as pupils. he can’t help but crack a smile internally, but in reality he simply huffs.

“tch. i might even love you, dumb brat.”

#er ya #sukuna soft #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader fluff #sukuna ryomen #ryomen x reader #drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊

[zizzy-rie]

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

How will Macaque react to this information?

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

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

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

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

Yaling btw is Qiuyue's birthname.

#Gads I can't get the drabble out of my head #Even tho it was written 2 years ago it's still so fucking neat #The angstt man #Can't share the whole thing tho sorry #Unless bog uploads it I cannot do anything except share some parts #It's so funny cuz bog wrote the whole thing thinking “this is so ooc of them” #And yet here I am in the present in fucking shambles with how in line it is in canon #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #shadowpeach #lmk sun wukong #lmk liu er mihou #lmk six eared macaque #monkie kid six eared macaque #monkie kid sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #sun wukong #monkie kid monkey king #monkie kid au #Rock monkies au

[willowser]

today i am thinking about. like. soulmate/arranged marriage au with bakugou.

it's common to get married once you find your pre-destined other half, bc there isn't anyone else out there for you, anyway, and it takes a little while for you and him to come across one another. late twenties even, and by this time, you're both so sure you're defective and that it will never happen and have given up completely on ever knowing what love is.

(you — a painfully average human being — having to be pried from your car after a minor accident. by pro-hero dynamight. and he touches you and you touch him and an oven timer goes off in your head. some box is checked deep inside your heart. both of you, at the exact same time, think: oh. it's you.

and then you're left standing at an intersection, awkwardly staring at one another as you're swarmed by media and fans and the other driver of the car, who is demanding all your insurance information.)

your wedding night is — boring; you sleep with your back to one another and don't say much beyond half-hearted conversation. he looks angry or deep in thought 99% of the time, frowning, and even though you knew that from seeing him on tv for years, it's more intimidating up close and in your face.

dynamight — bakugou — is gone a lot of the time, with work, leaving you alone in his nice three-bedroom more often than not. it's comforting almost, because you don't particularly feel anything for this man and you're allowed to expand in his space without being under his metallic gaze, making it your own as you please.

it's not unusual for you to fall asleep without him in a big, empty bed, untouched and unbothered — though he doesn't do either even when he's in it. he keeps his distance and you want him to, for now at least; you kissed once during the ceremony and a handful of times after that, when it felt right: after he made you dinner, two weeks into your marriage; when he got in from dubai after being gone for 12 days; you met kirishima and ashido recently — finally, they said — and he'd surprised you in the garage afterwards, leaning a little more into it than he typically does, though you think his two, small glasses of something amber and sweet at dinner might have helped with that.

not this morning though. because you'd been more than half asleep and hadn't even noticed him all night and therefore weren't even prepared to say goodbye. a hand at on your shoulder, maybe, before he left and then —

and then mina called. to tell you what happened. what hospital. how bad it was.

"he's uh—" you're blank, voice lost under the chatter of the emergency room, blinking at the receptionist in surprise. all the beeping and the squeak of shoes across the linoleum, the hurried instruction and calls for clear! are making you — "bakugou, he's uh—katsuki is—"

you're feeling a lot of things, and nothing, all at once. mostly regret, furious with yourself at the simple fact that you didn't even wake up properly to tell him goodbye, to have a nice day, that you never do. it's been almost half a year and you haven't even called him by his first name to his face, haven't given him permission to call you by yours. he's never seen you naked and you've been too scared to know if you even wanted him to.

you've been complacent in the distance and now it's getting further and further, as a machine flatlines just down the hall.

"my wife,"

when you turn, katsuki's standing across the lobby, peeking out from a room that's much quieter, that looks less intense. half of his face is bandaged up and his arm is in a sling, but — he looks —

"she's my wife," he croaks again, and mina appears, too, cringing under the heated glare he gives her. "told you 'm fine."

you feel a lot of things, all at once, but when he fixes you with his sleepy, half-lidded gaze, blinking soft and slow and gentle, you think: oh. of course it's you.

#i know this is not at all how an er is LOL #but this was supposed to be done in a snap and i wasnt too worried about background details #ANYWAY — arranged marriage au WHEN #he's so good for it and i cant really explain why #it's like the promise of having someone but still having to make them fall in love with you idka djhehwkqkq #bakugou drabble #i guess !!! #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou

[vezalust]

thinking about wilson ,,, constantly bragging about how good of a hero is. it must get annoying at some point, but it’s hard to keep him quiet. shut him up by kissing him on his pretty little mouth, it’ll leave him shocked and silent for a few seconds. he may try and start bragging again about how u must have wanted to kiss him because he’s such a strong hero and one of the coolest out there and how lucky you are and yada yada yada. he’s just wanting you to kiss him again, and it’s pretty obvious.

#yu q wilson #yu q wilson x reader #yu q. wilson #yu q. wilson x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji #FIRST TIME POSTING MY DRABBLES AGGHGGG #points right points left #this is so scary. #do not perceive me #ers writes

[thefollow-spot]

"Untitled" (Keeping)

Lancelot/Merlin ● General Audiences ● WC: 200 ● No Warnings // Written for @merlinmicrofic 2024, for the prompt 'Enough'.

---

You’ve taken an arrow for our prince. Home, we’re alone in your room. Your blood is stopped, but needs redressing. Pale, you’ve always been too fair. Your smiling eyes crinkle, hiding anything that hurts.

“Least Arthur’s safe,” you mutter. “Didn’t even have to use magic.”

Always for Arthur: wounds, scars, soul. Never will you put this down. Couldn’t I be enough for you? I know the answer. Cupping your face; kissing your lips. Take my swordsman’s hands, put them to work. Cleaning jagged skin; replacing the bandage, rotting red. I can’t fault you: I know what loving in service is.

◦◦◦

When you touch me this way, you’ve got a sculptor’s hands: strong, reverent. I wasn’t made for this—you know that, don’t you? I’m only half of a set (so the Dragon says). Properly, I can’t belong to you, even if I wished I could.

Shuddering, you breathe against my neck: “You’re too reckless, my lord.”

Later, my head in your lap, we steal time by your chamber hearth. I rest my wounded leg; you hum songs from your boyhood. Could you love me anyway, and make this be enough? Please believe me when I say I can’t be more.

#Hahaha... first-person POV? It's more likely than you think 😎 #This is the first time I've written a fic in first-person so! Have at 'er <3 #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin fanfic #merlin fanfiction #merlin fic #ynnealay #thefollow-spot #ynnealay's fic #merlin micro fic #merlin micro fic 2024 #mercelot #merlance #lancelot #double drabble

[scribblestatic]

Slightly referencing the picnic part that I'm likely not continuing, but running around on that mountain trail is the first time Izuku actually sees Venom's body. The slick darkness of its form and how it molds over his own. They help him run faster, jump higher...

It's so exciting, he doesn't recognize when he starts running on all fours in circles and through the trees. Inko witnesses this to some extent, seeing him get excited and the sticky stuff that came out of him. She makes a note of it all, and decides to bring him out more often.

After the run, he falls asleep in the car on the way home, and Inko quietly decides to contact Dr. Oniyoshi about the additional developments.

As Izuku grows up with Venom, the dog his intergalactical symbiote had been inside for the longest before coming in contact with him left a mark.

Izuku's young dreams often featured Venom's memories of being a dog. Most of those experiences were quite negative. After all, the dog and Venom had both been starving.

Now, in a human body well acclimated for housing the both of them, Izuku and Venom still retain some dog.

The first time Venom completely covers Izuku's body, he's about 8 years old. The inky form still has big dog ears and a log tail. Of course, it's not fluffy. It's all slick and slime, with big opalesque eyes staring back at them from the mirror.

Izuku smiles. Venom shows off a mouth full of many rows of teeth. But by this time, Izuku's not afraid of the teeth or of the dreams he has of eating creatures. He slides their tongue over their teeth, marveling at their sharpness.

And then, he crawls around the house, walking on all fours. Venom extended his feet so their legs bend like a dog's would.

The barrier between his body and Venom fades. He doesn't feel like he's floating in Venom's body. He feels like it is his body. No, it is his body.

He and Venom are the same... Yeah.

Inko's in the kitchen, listening to some evening TV show, when she sees a shadow move out the corner of her eye. She turns and prepares to speak to Izuku, only to pause, her gaze going wide.

Izuku sits in the living room, right near the kitchen, gazing up at her. His fingers and toes end in vicious points, and his slick tail lays on the ground beside him. His mouth is covered, so he's completely black save for his eyes.

He opens his mouth, sharp teeth revealed.

"Mummy, is dinner ready?"

His voice is split in two tones. One is the little boy she's been raising through all the ups and downs of parenthood. The other is deep, vibrating, and growling. They slightly merge together, speaking at the same time seamlessly, with an unnatural echo to it.

Inko stares a moment longer, Izuku's wild hair emulated by the slickness covering him in eldritch curls. He tilts his head curiously, gazing with his big eyes, just like he would otherwise.

...It's strange. Unnatural. Scary, even.

But this is still her son.

Inko smiles.

"Yes, dinner's almost ready, honey."

The dark figure's eyes crinkle with delight, his many, many teeth showing off in a wide grin.

"We wanna help. Can we help?"

"Of course. Go wash your hands first."

"Hehehe. Woof."

He scurries into the kitchen, slipping by her to the sink. In his usual form, he was just getting tall enough to turn on the sink only a bit of help from a stool. Now, he was tall enough to reach without it because of his extended feet, standing up on his tippy toes like a dog or cat. His slick yet bushy tail wagged behind him as he reached for the soap.

Izuku stays in this form for the rest of the evening, eating with his feet tucked under him in the chair. It's so interesting, seeing his sharp, claw-tipped fingers hold chopsticks and eat with them. Though, Izuku's mumbling in this strange form is a little hard to get used to.

"We stretched out our skin. We like this. All the colors. Many colors everywhere. And smells! You smell delicious and friendly and like love. We love you."

Suddenly, those questions about eating squirrels comes back to her.

Although he prefers to walk on all fours, he stays on the back two to help her wash the dishes. Once done, just like Izuku's usual routine, it's time to get ready for bed.

Izuku bathes and brushes his teeth like normal, though distinctly not like normal, since he still maintains that strange form the entire time. His toothbrush bristles come out and stick between his fangs in places, causing him to have to close his mouth, gather them with sludge, and spit them all out in the trash. Floss is a lot easier to deal with, thankfully.

By the time he's ready for bed, his wide eyes have narrowed sleepily. Izuku moves forward and, gingerly, like he always does, takes a hold on the corner of her shirt.

"...Let's get you tucked in, love."

She leads him to his bedroom, and like she always does, she helps him get comfortable in bed. He curls up differently than usual, more like a dog than a regular person. But before she leaves, his arms reach out and wrap around her waist. He then presses his face against her stomach.

"We love you, Mumma..."

...This is just her baby, isn't it? A bit frightening, but he's just her baby boy in the end. Loving and sweet. Needing more help and care than some other children, but he's hers.

Inko smiles, and hugs her little boy back.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Get some sleep."

--

After that night, when at home, Izuku tends to use 'we' to refer to himself.

#venom deku au #static writes #static drabbles #bnha au #bnha #mha au #gosh this is...er... #au post 18 #i'm probably not gonna go back and number the others #it's gonna be on the masterpost anyway

[blacksheep28]

Sun Wukong doesn't like thinking too much about his Journey to the West. Yes he bonded with the others he traveled with, but often it was miserable, and he hated being bound. Even more so he hated how he had struggled so much for trust, despite honestly doing his best. Reaching the end and ascending had been one of the best days of his life. He was free to return home.

Sun Wukong couldn't say that he hadn't learned anything from the trip. He did learn to check his impulses more carefully, and to choose when to kill more carefully. He'd also learned to trust less. Pigsy, Sandy, and Tripitaka hadn't hesitated to move on with their lives and drop out of contact with the savage Monkey King. It stung. Especially after he'd been forced to kill Liu Er. He had warned the Macaque, but he had thought he could break Sun Wukong free early, and he had paid the price for it.

So perhaps it isn't so surprising that he took a chance after being put under an amnesia spell. For others it would be an entirely blank slate until it was broken, but he was Sun Wukong. It only took a day for it to wear off. He didn't tell anyone though. He liked acting like he had before the Journey. And it had been so long, nobody realized that he wasn't nearly as destructive as he should be if he had truly forgotten everything.

And Liu Er took him back. It didn't matter that Sun Wukong had been forced to kill him. It didn't matter that Liu Er had been brought back to life by the Lady Bone Demon he had warned them about but only been punished for because of her disguises and kept on a leash to attack Sun Wukong to let the Lady Bone Demon steal Wukong's powers. It didn't matter that Liu Er thought that Sun Wukong had chosen to kill him. Liu Er thought Sun Wukong didn't remember, and it was right back to how it used to be. Liu Er was enjoying showing his Sun Wukong modern life and spending time together. Sun Wukong was happy to see his shadow enjoying himself so much.

As long as nobody found out, surely this was fine. Surely they could have back what had been lost.

#sun wukong #monkey king #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #journey to the west #lmk #drabble #fanfic #story #amnesia #take back the past

[theweepingmortician]

he who conquers shadows black

pairing: implied sun wukong | monkey king/liu er mihou | six-eared macaque

words: 479

rating: teen, possibly mature for violent content

a/n: i finally decided to suck it up and try to write macaque’s death scene. i don’t know if i did it justice. warnings for blood, character death, and violence. everything you’d expect with a death scene. i’m also on ao3. enjoy.

“Come on, Wukong!”

The air is rich with the stink of blood. Macaque sways and stumbles, tripping over the curves of his own heels as if drunk on his fury. His lips split and laughter bursts from his throat, deep with mania. Wukong hates himself for ever having missed the sound. 

“Stop holding out on me. You can do better than this. Your power isn’t a curse—it’s a gift.”

“Leave this place.” Grant me this kindness at least, he thinks. Don’t let them take you from me too. 

Macaque’s hand trembles as it closes around his staff, the one Wukong had carved from the very dark that bore him. Wukong’s hand squeezes around its twin, and it glimmers in the setting sun, mockingly divine. His legs buckle beneath him, sorrow weighing heavy as a mountain on his limbs. He sinks his teeth into it and buries it deep. He hopes he will choke on it.

They’re swept up into a dizzying blur of blood and blows. Macaque is sloppy, sick with hysteria, and Wukong fights desperately against the pull of his muscles. The grass is thin with the scars of their battle. It would feast well tonight, greedily drinking the red that would spill. He raises his arm, hefts his cudgel like a spear, and prays to any god that will listen in hopes it will not catch. He should have known better. He had never been heaven’s favorite.

Macaque screams. It rips through the air and into the chambers of his heart.

Do not let him suffer, he tells himself, as he drags his body to sit atop Macaque’s writhing form. Claws sink into his flesh, and he lets them tear. He deserves to be bled raw. 

“You can’t kill me,” Macaque chokes out. His cudgel slides from the gape in his eye, red spills like wine. “I mean—I mean it’s me. I’m all you have left.”

He tries to be gentle as his hand slips behind Macaque’s head. He hates that Macaque does not fight him, only clings to him like a babe to its mother.

“Wukong.” He is clawing in earnest now. Thick gold oozes between his dirt-encrusted fingers. He had told Wukong it was beautiful once; how he bled the nectar from the sun. It drips onto Macaque’s face, rusting. There is no beauty in it now. “You can’t kill me,” he whimpers. “You—you gave me my name. Remember?” Those six ears spread pitifully, wilting like a waning wedelia. I remember everything, he thinks. It would be a mercy if he didn’t. He thumbs the soft flesh of their shells, and raises his staff.

“I’m sorry.”

When Macaque’s chest is no longer quivering, Wukong allows his limp body to sink into the earth. He kisses cold hands and weeps. There is no point in wanting to follow him to the below. Wukong is already dead.

#lego monkie kid #lmk fic #sun wukong #liu er mihou #angst #? #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #lmk monkey king #drabble #i always avoided trying to tackle this scenario because i never thought i could approach it with the tact it deserved #but i recently got a burst of inspiration so here we are #this is also partially crits fault #let me know if i need to adjust the warnings in the authors note btw #my writing

[sisterdivinium]

She broke off the kiss when she felt the top button of her shirt be undone.

Panting, Jillian took a step back, eyeing Suzanne’s black veil, her vows. A pair of concerned eyes stared back at her while a pair of hands still at Jillian’s shirt trembled slightly. She caught them with her own and kept them in place.

“Are you sure?” Jillian breathed out, before raising one and then the other of Suzanne’s hands to her lips, bestowing delicate blessings upon hardened knuckles.

A tender smile lit up the face a scar had once darkened. Suzanne leaned into her again and pressed a soft promise upon Jillian’s mouth.

“Are you?”

The candlelight flickered. Silence reigned gracefully over the convent and the city below it while their breath mingled hot and nervous, alive amid stillness.

This was nothing new; they were both aware of what lovers did, of course — only the memory was so distant, the idea so foreign… Suzanne had married heaven, Jillian knowledge; fleshless spouses such as these could never adore them back. Years, lifetimes of neglect suddenly made new what was old as time as they stood together at the precipice of this unfamiliar intimacy.

Love had simply happened; circumstance allowed a word, a gesture, a touch — this rarest of benedictions, this uncanny discovery science would never fully explain, faith never fully accept. Touches were made bolder, hands dared to clasp one another, pull, hold tight, invite the inevitable kiss to seal the contract and tear down the veil…

The veil.

Jillian touched it solemnly, waiting. With tremulous fingers, she began to undo it as soon as another button on her shirt was tentatively pushed out of its place; they spoke in their own mute language, echoing the question and the questioning answer with every timid move: “Are you sure? Are you?”

In this languid ritual, no inch of skin was taken for granted. Every revelation was adored, slowly, slowly, ever searching for certainty — a kiss at the base of the neck, another at a shoulder, hair coming lose, are you sure, are you sure, are you sure...? There was something blasphemous, there was something sacred in each curve, each joint, each scar; Jillian needed not envy Suzanne’s repertoire of hymns, for they would both compose their own with every kiss. Divine rhymes in the tongue of quietness littered the warmth they so carefully exposed.

Hesitation darkened the shadows around them — how pathetic, how ridiculous, how adulterous, for who would now worship god or numbers, the invisible deities who had hitherto kept their beds so cold and spacious? How audacious to display a birthmark, a crease, a patch of unkempt hair, mortality itself, when the holiness of prayer or genius had so long carried the privilege of guarding them…

A total embrace, two hearts reaching out to one another madly, terrified of beating so near, so alike — but more frightened still to avoid this, to part.

Night time is god’s asylum for sin, for shame; so they remained where the orange flame could yet paint them out from shadow, where they could quickly notice whether the answer had or had not changed — are you sure?

A gasp, a moan — quiet, slow, pure, unlike any of the songs of devotion or the groans of dying enemies Suzanne was so used to, unlike the inhuman humming of machines Jillian herself had hallucinated into being.

Fumbling thumbs, accompanied by giggles only the girls they had once been had any right to utter, travelled uncertain, insecure, knowing their desired destination but losing themselves in the infinite invisible roads that led everywhere. An awkward angle elicited embarrassment, but what was there to be embarrassed of? Theirs were other sorts of experience. Killing, healing, creating, inspiring… The nun and the immaculate mother would have time to learn together what worship was, with less questions at every touch, less fear at every breath…

But never without wonder.

And as Suzanne sighed and Jillian heaved and neither deigned to contemplate the cross on the wall when religion lay down right beside them, entangled with their very limbs, they kissed once more.

The first few rays of daylight lazily coloured the trail of smoke which the melted candle had left in the room.

“We’ll have to get up soon enough… Morning service.”

An incredulous guffaw of laughter shook bare, radiant skin, catching in the folds of discarded clothes mixed in a heap of black and white upon the stone floor.

“Are you very sure...?”

#doctor superion #mother superion x jillian salvius #warrior nun drabble #i er... i wrote this the other night instead of sleeping #there's nothing grand although well... it's about That but also Not That? #i had been toying with the idea of how they would behave with one another given how they've probably not been in these situations often #like how do you deal with the vulnerability of being with someone else after so long? when you're not a teenager anymore #i've been thinking a lot about age and how it changes us #(mostly for the better tbh although i WOULD have preferred to not wear glasses myself now) #anyway. #you might not want to read this at work? idk. you might also not want to read this alone at night bc of feels lol #narratives and similar #also if you can't tell i'm a bit hesitant to post this so go easy #mother superion #jillian salvius #warrior nun

[mooonjin]

Toothpick

Notes: *throws drabble at you* i jut wrote this down real quick because a new tbb episde is coming up and im so exicted and miss crosshair <33

Pairing: Just Crosshair :D

Summary: A new face introduced as the Batchers lay low from the Empire.

Warnings/Tags: fluff — tell me if I've missed anything!

The stench of the parlor was definitely an unfamiliar waft for Crosshair. When his brothers told him about a place they could lay low from the Empire, he didn't exactly have this... shelter in mind. At least there were tables for Dejarik as well as receiving his trusty rifle back, otherwise he'd be bored out of his mind. Maybe use the rusty parts of droids by the bins as target practice.

"You, Toothpick, what's so mesmerising that yew gotta stare at it for so long?" Cid snapped so abruptly. It seems Crosshair hasn't been paying attention to any of what she was saying. Hunter, who stood to her right, discreetly shook his head, grinning. Hunter didn't blame his inattentiveness. It wasn't so long ago they all fled from the Empire — shocking, amirite? — and had to keep a low profile which also means hand-to-mouth.

Crosshair, on the other hand, was more surprised that someone dare raised their voice at him. Especially someone who wasn't a clone or ranks higher than Hunter. He kept his composure anyway, spitting out his toothpick only to replace it with another one. It was probably a silent way of saying, 'don't talk to me when you own a dog shelter' or something like that.

"Oh, it litters too," Cid rolled her eyes, chucking Tech, who stood beside Crosshair, the information disk for a retrieval mission, "Now, hustle, hustle, this thing ain't collecting itself!" she waved her arms in a shooing motion before grabbing her weapon (walking) stick and walking back to her office.

Crosshair was told that they were all introduced to Cid from Echo, so he sent the ARC trooper a "generous" stare at what was basically Crosshair's first impression of her.

As long as his brothers were fine with it, he'd go along like he always had.

Like old times.

-

Post-Notes: hope its good!! i kkinda thought thats wha cid would call cross ngl but lol its all for funsies! :D

wanna be a part of my taglist?

~ ~ ~

@elsastoes @nekotaetae @jiabeewrites @lokigirlszendaya

#crosshair the bad batch #star wars #ct 9904 #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #clone trooper x reader #mooonjin #UGH TBB SS2 COME ERE FASTRE PLSSS #crosshair drabble #enjoy the fic!!

[py-dreamer]

Can Macaque use his super hearing to detect lies?

You know how Toph from ATLA, can detect if people are lying or not from listening to if their heartbeat increases?

Like can Mac do the same thing? Cause if mans can hear to the past and future, I'm pretty sure he could tell the difference in pace in someone's heartbeat.

Cause if he really hones in this power, it could be really op

Also sad headcanon:

When he heard Wukong promising to 'get fat on fruits and bask in the sun forever' he really believed him because Wukong was being very genuine. He just got lost in the fray.

And then like later, during their fight he finds Wukong lying when demeaning and sh!t

Then he gets upset with himself since he believes that Wukong lied and threw their bond away but the hearing is telling him that he didn't and Mac being all confused and stuff, fighting with himself

#lmk #lmk macaque #liu er mihou #just headcanons #drabble #just a drabble

[lmkwritings]

The Moon will sing a song for Me.

“I loved you like the sun.” gentle words spoken with vitriol, with so much anguish and rage, a burning writhing inferno just under the surface of a teary eyed smile.

the warrior bowed his head quietly, eyes wet.

“bore the shadows that you made-“ more desperate now, something hysterical in his words as the king stumbled forward, startling him.

the pleading look in the king's eyes as he begged the warrior to understand what he was trying to say.

“with no light of my own.” he pleaded, eyes desperately searching the warriors as he wept silently. the king yearned so badly to reach up and wipe away broken-hearted tears.

He knew that he lost that right a long time ago, however. it was his fault in the first place that they were there.

the king's grip tightened on the warriors cloak- of blackest night and the very folds of reality shifting and mending inside -his own tears slipping as his knees hit the ground.

his warrior stood, his own tears dripping silently onto the king's hair.

“I shine only with the light you gave me.” he whispered finally, a sob tearing from a delicate throat.

the warrior watched his king curl into himself, white knuckling his cloak as he wept at his feet, on his knees.

“I shine only with the light you gave me.” he murmured, finally allowing himself to weep, to mourn what he had destroyed, what he had taken and thrown like fine china at the ground.

the warrior watched as his king bowed, to him, to his misdeeds, his crimes and horrors, to his lover, his partner in crime, and a corpse.

watched his ex bow to a dead man, and he wept.

because even after all these years of endless agony?

He still loved his king.

for the moon could not shine without its sun, and a King?

needed his Warrior.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk drabbles #lmk sun wukong #lmk liu er mihou #this isn’t the monkey king and macaque #this is shi hou and liu er mihou #broken lovers and torn souls

[leatherbootlace]

Bert and his Driver met the Clergymen at the Bottom Station. There, the Thin Clergyman explained his latest book. “I was hoping you might tell me more about your time on the Lakeland Bank Railway.”

The small engine gave a rather forced smile. “I’m flattered,” he said kindly, “But I don’t have good memories of that place. I was one of the oldest engines there; I had to say many goodbyes over the years.”

“Do you know who Ariel is, then?”

Bert froze. There was a name he didn’t want to remember.

“No,” he spoke coldly. “Never heard of her.”

#ttte #rws #ttte bert #rws art #ttte art #bootlace drabbles #so apparently rex mike and bert all worked on another Not!R&ER over in england before coming to sodor #and that got the old gears movin and a groovin up in the thinktank #definitely gonna do a post about the lakeland bank railway in the future #just gotta do more research on la'al ratty

[waywardwizzard]

Mal had to admit that his steed wasn't the most conventional.

The horse's armor squeaked as he shifted and Mal shushed it, desperately trying to stay on the horse. What did Sanxing have against him?

A creak that didn't come from him or the horse made Mal freeze. Quickly, Mal shut the helmet visor with a clang and he tried to act like he belonged on the horse dressed in knight armor and that he wasn't planning on using it for a getaway.

"Mick?" a voice asked from near the back of the dressing room. "Tha' you? Stop horsin' around and get movin'! The show's 'bout to start!"

The Captain gulped and nodded, anxiously wondering how he'd get out of this.

#firefly #serenity #space western #browncoats #firefly fanfiction #yeehawgust #browncoats unite #sci fi #malcolm reynolds #yeehawgust day 21 #unconventional steed #caper fic #...er drabble #browncoat for life

[bibastibootz]

Mein Mann

"Gleich sind wir endlich beim Auto." Sebastian atmet stoßhaft aus und schaut auf den sandigen Weg vor sich, der einen leichten Bogen macht und so die Sicht auf den Parkplatz verdeckt.

Thorsten runzelt die Stirn. "Wieso denn 'endlich'? Hat dir der Spaziergang etwa nicht gefallen?"

Sebastian schüttelt den Kopf. "Nein, aber meine Schuhe drücken heute irgendwie."

"Mhm", antwortet Thorsten mit einem misstrauischen Blick.

Sebastian greift nach Thorstens Hand. "Wirklich. Der Spaziergang war schön. Alles ist schön mit dir." Er drückt Thorstens Hand und will sie gerade wieder loslassen, da verfestigt er stattdessen seinen Griff und wirft Thorsten ein zufriedenes Lächeln zu.

Nach all den Monaten zusammen (so ganz offiziell) ist er noch immer überzeugt davon, dass alle anderen sie beide anstarren und verurteilen — aber hier im Park ist niemand. Also überkommt Sebastian dieses Gefühl von Sicherheit und er versucht, die Wärme und den Druck von Thorstens Hand zu genießen so gut es geht.

Die untergehende Sonne glitzert durch die Baumkronen und wirft tanzende Lichtkleckse auf den Sandweg. Die Schuhe knirschen im Rhythmus und verfallen in ein frühsommerliches Lied zusammen mit dem nahen und fernen Vogelgezwitscher.

Der Porsche steht direkt unter einem schattigen Baum und verspricht endlich Erholung für Sebastians Füße. Sebastian kann es kaum erwarten, sich genüsslich in den Beifahrersitz fallen zu lassen und auf dem Rückweg ein wenig seine Augen zu schließen. Davor gibt es aber noch etwas zu klären.

"Holen wir uns noch was zum Abendessen?", fragt er.

Thorsten dreht seinen Kopf zur Seite. "Du bist doch heute dran mit Kochen."

Sebastian lässt seine Schultern fallen und runzelt die Stirn. "Können wir unsere Regelung heute nicht einmal ausfallen lassen?"

"Genau das hast du letztes Wochenende auch schon gesagt."

"Aber heute habe ich wirklich keine Lust."

Sie stehen nun direkt vor dem Porsche und Thorsten hat sich zu Sebastian umgedreht. Ihre verschränkten Hände baumeln zwischen ihnen in der Luft. Thorstens Finger zucken einmal kurz gegen Sebastians Handfläche.

"Soll ich dir beim Kochen helfen?", fragt Thorsten schließlich.

"Wir können uns doch einfach schnell was holen und dann haben wir mehr Zeit auf dem Sofa." Sebastian hebt verschmitzt seine linke Augenbraue. "Wäre doch schön, oder?"

Thorsten verdreht die Augen, doch er kann das Grinsen nicht stoppen, das ihm um den Mund spielt. Dann versucht er aber wieder, etwas ernster zu gucken. "Überredet. Aber wir können wirklich nicht jeden zweiten Tag Essen bestellen."

Sebastian will gerade etwas antworten, da ertönt das Geräusch einer schließenden Autotür neben ihnen. Sofort fährt Sebastian zu dem Auto herum und lässt dabei seinen Arm fallen. Die Wärme von Thorstens Hand hinterlässt lediglich ein kaltes Kribbeln auf seiner Haut.

Sebastian weiß, dass er wie ertappt aussehen muss, so wie er da steht, Arme und Beine völlig starr und gestreckt, der Blick etwas beschämend zu Boden gerichtet. Da wird ihm bewusst, wie nah er noch an Thorsten steht und wie missverständlich ihre Nähe sein muss, also macht er einen kleinen Schritt zur Seite und hofft, dass Thorsten es ihm nicht übel nimmt.

"Streit ums Abendessen?", fragt der Mann vom Nachbarauto, der mit einem Grinsen seinen Rucksack aufsetzt und um sein Auto herumgeht.

Thorsten wirft Sebastian einen flüchtigen Blick zu, bevor er mit den Schultern zuckt. "Essen bestellen oder selbst kochen, Sie kennen das Problem bestimmt." Mit seinem Kopf nickt er in Sebastians Richtung. "Er hier wäre heute dran, hat aber keine Lust."

Sebastian wird rot, aber nicht, weil Thorsten ihn hier vor einem Fremden vorführt (was ihm dennoch sehr unangenehm ist), sondern weil das alles so privat klingt. Niemals würde er selbst so offen mit jemand anderem über Thorsten und sein Abendessen reden, erstrecht nicht mit einem wildfremden Menschen. Aber Thorsten war schon immer lockerer, was sowas angeht. Offener, einfacher.

Der Mann schnauft vor Lachen. "Ah, die altbekannte Essensfrage am Sonntagnachmittag." Er geht langsam Richtung Wanderweg, bleibt aber Thorsten und Sebastian zugewendet. "Mein Mann ist auch so. Jedes Wochenende haben wir die selbe Diskussion. Kleiner Tipp: Rückenmassage anbieten. Dann macht er alles."

Thorsten lacht leise auf und nickt. "Den Tipp merke ich mir, danke."

Sebastians Ohren können nicht roter werden als jetzt. Sein Blick wandert von Thorsten zu dem anderen Mann, der ihn in diesem Moment auch anguckt.

"Ich würde das Angebot annehmen", sagt er mit einem breiten Grinsen und einem selbstbewussten Zwinkern, das sich auf direktem Wege in Sebastians Brust und wie eine heilende Hand über sein Herz legt.

Sebastian kann nicht anders und er lächelt etwas unbeholfen zurück. "Okay", sagt er leise, noch etwas ertappt und peinlich berührt.

Der Mann hebt eine Hand zum Abschied und verschwindet dann auch schon hinter der Kurve.

Sebastian atmet einmal tief ein, geht um das Auto herum zur Beifahrertür und steigt dann zu Thorsten in den Wagen. Bevor dieser den Motor anstellen kann, legt Sebastian eine Hand auf Thorstens Oberschenkel. "Ich koche heute", sagt er.

Thorsten dreht seinen Kopf zu ihm um. "Musst du nicht, wenn du nicht willst."

Sebastian presst seine Lippen zu einem kleinen Lächeln zusammen. "Möchte ich aber."

"Mit anschließender Rückenmassage oder ohne?"

Sebastian legt seinen Kopf schief. "Als ob das überhaupt eine Frage wäre."

Thorsten startet den Motor. "Dann krieg ich nächstes Mal aber auch eine von dir."

"Abgemacht", antwortet Sebastian, drückt einmal Thorstens Oberschenkel und beugt sich zu einem kurzen Kuss auf Thorstens Wange rüber, bevor er seine Hand zurücknimmt.

Auf der Rückfahrt schweigen die beiden die meiste Zeit. Was sie nicht wissen, ist, dass in ihren Köpfen ein und der selbe Gedanke herumschwirrt und genau das gleiche wohlwollige Gefühl in ihren Herzen auslöst. Mein Mann.

#tatort stuttgart #stuggi drabbles #ich kann es einfach nicht lassen mit Sebastian und vehementer internalisierter Homophobie gegen die er so kämpft 😫 #Thorsten ist da 'stärker' aber er würde auch ewig darauf warten bis Basti bereit ist <3 #mehl stuff

[shootsun]

Have a warm-up that I wrote and liked today

“Awwww, has it been a while, Peaches?” He teases, tugging Wukong’s hair lightly. A soft whine barely makes it out of the golden monkey’s mouth, but Macaque hears it clear as day with a twitch of his ears.

The god shifts under his legs nervously, clearing his throat with a slowly deepening blush. “What? No. Why would you say that? I literally kissed you last week.” Wukong attempts to scoff, but his voice cracks at the end, and his tail curls over the demon’s knee.

Macaque smirks as he leans in, the other stilling as he carefully presses a line of kisses across Wukong’s left cheek to the corner of his mouth before pulling away. Wukong doesn’t stifle his whine this time, and it practically echoes in the small house.

When he sees how blown out Wukong’s pupils are, and how pink his eyes have gotten, Macaque tilts his head with a knowing grin. “Oh? Did you want something?”

“No,” Wukong breathes stubbornly. His gaze flicks to Macaque’s mouth and back up again before he swallows. “Noope. Nu-uh. Wanting for nothing here.”

“Really now? Because it kind of seemed like you wanted something to me.”

Wukong’s claws prick through his shirt as the god tightens his grip slightly on Macaque’s shoulders.    

“You’re such a tease.” He tries to put some control in his voice, but Macaque can hear the tremor under the false bravado.

“Oh, you want me to tease you?” The demon says with a smug lilt to his voice, and if possible, Wukong’s blush gets darker, his ears practically glowing.

“Or,” Macaque leans back in, carefully dodging the way Wukong’s face turns slightly, as if to intercept a kiss, and whispers in the god’s ear, “Do you want me to take care of you?”

He draws his claws lightly up Wukong’s sides as he says this, and he grins at the sharp intake of breath.

“I-I can t-take care of myself,” the god swallows heavily, his throat bobbing.

“You haven’t pushed me off yet.” Macaque tugs lightly at the other’s earlobe with his teeth before nuzzling into Wukong’s neck.

“I could,” Wukong says stubbornly as he doesn’t move.

“I know you could. But my favourite part,” Macaque nips at Wukong’s collar bone, “Is that you haven’t. You’re letting me do this. You like it.”  

“You like being taken care of.”

Wukong whines again, the noise high and needy, as he buries his face in the other’s neck.

“Use your words, Peaches.” Macaque kisses the side of his head as Wukong mutters something into his fur.

“Hmmm? What was that? I couldn’t quite catch it.”

“Jackass.”

“Mmmm… it sounded like ‘kiss me’ and ‘more’, but I think I need to hear it again to be sure.”

“Pluum.”

“Peeaches.”

Wukong sighs dramatically and he drags his face out of Macaque’s neck.

“Could you please kiss me? Properly this time?” He begs, and Macaque obliges with a smug smile.

“All you had to do was ask.”

#lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk six eared macaque #lmk wukong #lmk macaque #lmk liu er mihou #lmk monkey king #lmk mac #lmk shadowpeach #shadowpeach #lemony scented #oops and ope my dudes #my writing #drabble #this might show up in the shadow au later on in some way shape of form ;)