"Wait who are you- I'm Macaque!"
"No I am!"
"...where am I?"
"Istg if Wukong is behind this-"
It seems our warrior has gotten some new friends, or maybe foes?
Day 4 of Mactober: Into the Mac-Verse
ShadowKing Macaque belongs to @elirastudio
(Young) Overshadowed Macaque belongs to @lego-sand
(Idk what the au name is but pls get your boy hes lost) Island Macaque belongs to @izuke-the-zombie
And ShadowKnight Macaque belongs to me!
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Hello there again, I offer some more overshadowed Macaque because he’s just too pretty. This time giving his glamoured form some appreciation.
Hoo boy this drawing took so long, 7+ hours. I started it immediately after I finished the last one but then I got sick so that kinda put a pause on it. Then I decided to further torture myself with drawing a background, seriously I struggle so much with them.
I don’t really know what his full glamoured outfit looks like so I tried my best to draw out something that looked ok, that being said I’m horrible at designing clothes so it’s nothing spectacular.
Overshadowed as is created by @lego-sand
Please click for better quality, tumblr really has it out for me and I don’t know how to fix that. And maybe even zoom in to view all the little details, I’d really appreciate it.
Alt version because I’m indecisive
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a lil fic for a joke in @lego-sand ‘s Overshadowed AU
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Wukong blearily dodged a pitfall, somersaulting over it, swaying a little as he tried to shake himself awake the rest of the way when he landed on the other side. It didn’t work, early morning tiredness still clinging to him like a thick mist, and he groaned.
He had no idea why the kids couldn’t just deliver this t-shirt themselves. Was there really such an intense need to wake him up for this???
And not to mention…. Demon Bull King knew that he had guests in the house. Couldn’t he turn the traps off for the time being?
Honestly, he’d probably left the traps turned on just to be a hindrance to Wukong specifically.
He ducked underneath of a spear as he turned the corner down the hallway to where Macaque was staying. Narrowing his eyes, he briefly turned on his golden vision to check for extra traps, and upon seeing none, allowed himself to slouch with sleepiness. Really, it was far too early in the morning for this bullshit.
He adjusted his grip on the t-shirt, unfolding it to check and make sure it hadn’t been burned or ripped by any of the traps he’d had to dodge through, tired and distracted enough by his task to not hear Macaque’s door opening. It looked fine-
Wait- why the fuck did it say-
Wukong’s thoughts were smacked out of his head as he collided with Macaque, immediately stumbling back upon impact, his brain taking several seconds to catch up.
…And then taking a few more seconds to process the fact that Macaque was currently shirtless.
“Wukong? Wha-” Macaque didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Wukong threw the t-shirt in his hands directly at Macaque’s face.
“Kids want you to wear that!” He said, making eye contact and pointedly not looking anywhere else, clearing his throat when his voice came out slightly squeaky, wide awake now. “For…some reason.”
Macaque looked at him with confusion, and Wukong turned away, ear twitching when he heard the rustle of fabric indicating that the shirt was being put on.
“...I don’t get it.” Macaque muttered, and Wukong looked back-
And nearly choked on his own spit.
Despite the t-shirt being a joke, (the “Was cursed and all I got out of it were these tits” written on it making the joke very obvious), it fit Macaque shockingly well, tight in all the right ways.
Wukong made eye contact for barely a second before he was looking away again.
“Ha! Just as I thought-you really do look stupid in it!” He fake-laughed, leaning away, glancing at…something. If Macaque asked he could probably say he was hoping to find a switch to activate a trap to smack the shadow demon in the face or…something.
Wukong wasn’t really thinking of good excuses as much as he was thinking; what the fuck. Macaque should seriously not look so good in that-
He hadn’t noticed Macaque was moving again until his arm had been grabbed and he was spun around, his back slamming against a wall, barely getting the chance to reorient himself as Macaque’s hand slammed beside Wukong’s head.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Macaque…for some reason sounded genuinely confused, maybe a little tired, and Wukong blinked, still refusing to make eye contact, instead glancing down- oh heavens he was staring right at Macaque’s chest that didn’t help at all- “My eyes are up here, Wukong.”
Wukong’s face flushed darker as one of Macaque’s tails bumped his chin, tilting his head up so that they were making eye contact again. There were dark circles under Macaque’s eyes, and it suddenly hit Wukong that the other’s glamours were down. He…hadn’t noticed before. To be fair he’d been a little distracted by-
“Mm. Your eyes are pink.” Macaque commented, and that was enough to have Wukong grabbing hold of Macaque’s arm in a panic, easily swapping their positions so that he was now pinning Macaque to the wall.
“I. Have no idea what you’re talking about.” Wukong ignored the way his tail was moving, hoping Macaque would take it for irritation or anger. “It’s probably just the light reflecting off your….shirt….”
He trailed off, as he noticed the way Macaque’s expression had changed from tired confusion to one of flustered shock, his ears perked with a faint glow to them, his tails standing on end, fur bristling, and a blush slowly spreading across his face.
Wukong very nearly kissed him then and there.
Instead, he stepped back, pulling his hand away and using it to hide his eyes from view.
“Um, anyways- yeah. Kids want you to wear that so- you should at least let them see you in it once, or they’ll keep pestering you about it, and I don’t wanna deal with your whining so- yeah. Mhm. Yep. That’s all. Um. K’bye!” With that graciously said, Wukong turned and practically sped walked back the way he came, moving fast enough that the traps didn’t even touch him.
If it weren’t for his own moral code, he would kill Mei for putting him through this.
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Kon, in an effort to blow off steam after another argument with Superman, goes to bumfuck nowhere. He meets a small-time hero named Phantom.
Phantom is happy to lend a listening ear, nodding along sympathetically and giving Kon fantastic ideas to fuck with Superman.
Then he stops Kon with an increasingly concerned expression.
"Wait-and all of his friends are saying he isn't normally like this?"
"Yeah, according to Dinah he may be like, projecting or something-"
"On a scale of 1-10, how different is he?"
Kon stops and frowns, thinking.
"I dunno, apparently he's like, super kind and empathetic? Normally? Now he's just an asshole though."
"And this just...happened. Apparently."
"Yeah, he came back after being dead, took one look at me, and decided that being his 'nice and normal self' was too much work."
Phantom looks sick.
"So don't take this the wrong way, but I think I need to actually fight Superman."
OR: Superman was cruel to Kon when he came back because he was possessed, and the ghost possessing him was clever enough to bypass pinging on any of the JLD radar.
It was behaving like itself towards Kon because it knew that Kon had no one to report it to that would take it really seriously, so long as it pretended to be kind to everyone else. So it was treating Kon like stress-relief.
But Danny realizes it.
And the only way Danny knows how to perform a successful exorcism is to punch the ghost out of somebody. Literally. (also the fenton peeler but that thing freaks him out)
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A series of murders have been taking place in Blüdhaven. (Is that how you spell it?)
BPD are at their limits. They call in a specialist. An unregistered meta??? woman who has very specific demands that the police department must follow to the letter.
She is somewhat a ghost story (haha) throughout the states. When a department needs help, her services are found in a letter on the chief’s desk, along with specific criteria for her offer of help. If they don’t meet her demands, she vanishes, leaving chaos and destruction in her wake. She has been considered dead many times due to the damages. But she’s always appeared a few weeks later, helping another department in a different state and leaving the solved case of the one she abruptly left.
Her demands are this: All windows closed and blindfolds down.
No electronics. If they can’t be moved, then they must be disabled. If that can’t happen, then the police department must leave a green flag on their station.
She will only visit under cover of night.
They will know her by the DP insignia on the black armor she wears. Her red and blue hair (that almost looks like it’s floating?!) will be the only defining feature aside from glowing green eyes. The rest of her face will be covered. If anyone asks, they did not see anything discernable about her.
There is only one police officer she will share information to. He or she will be standing outside.
This officer will wear a belt she brings and it will remain as part of his or her uniform.
No questions.
They will take all of the credit and never mention her or her description to anyone in white.
Her help will not be put in the case files. There must be no evidence that she was there.
After she leaves, they will discover a letter for an Agent O. He comes within two days. He’s always furious after reading it and practically interrogates the officer who stood outside the door. She recommends that this officer immediately go on vacation for a week.
The police departments she has worked with (that have cooperated with her demands) all claim she was a godsend. Her methods were unconventional but effective. Ignore the one sided conversations she has at the crime scene and she’s the perfect specialist. Their only issue is that she will not work with the same department twice so they’ve had to get creative and send the officer she worked with to another department (small rural town) to solve another cold case for them.
She can somehow figure out exactly what happened to each victim without seeing the body or the case file and tell the police departments the exact description of the suspect just by having a one sided conversation at the scene of the crime. It’s almost like someone is answering her, but no one ever does. If no body was discovered, she can tell you exactly where it is.
AKA Jazz figured out she can communicate with weak ghosts. As a liminal, she has been able to solve many cold cases just by speaking to the victims.
Dick Grayson is assigned as her designated officer. Chaos ensues because of course it does.
Extra thought: What if the GIW use a liminal serial killer (could be in Blüdhaven or Gotham) to draw Jazz out? Are they paying the killer? Forcing someone to kill? SO MANY HORRIBLE POSSIBILITIES!
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