#excerpts from a monkey's readings

[mortisghost]

Jurnal #63

Bonjour friends.

From now on, this Tumblr will be used by me as a continuation of the reports I posted in PDF format on my Patreon (now closed). I'll try to post content more or less every month, more or less loaded, depending on what I have to show you. I'll keep you updated on the various projects I'm currently working on, and maybe even on my real life, who knows? This month I've done a lot of stuff, but very little that I'm allowed to show; it's off to a bad start. I'm an illustrator on projects that are currently under NDA, so my mouth and eyes are tied up like the little monkeys statues. It's exactly the same.

Among the things I'm allowed to talk to you about, I did some research on mascots for my cousin's music project.I think they're amusing.

I've also been making progress on editing a comic book I've been working on for a long time, whenever I have time. It's a very secondary project, but it's progressing little by little, and I intend to complete it one day. Here are a few excerpts from the storyboard.

Finally, I'll end this first post in this new format with some personal information about myself. At the moment, I'm reading the manga "SlamDunk" by Takehiko Inoue; I find it really effective and captivating, and I'm eating quite a few chocolate-filled croissants; they're quite decadent, but honestly, they're delicious.

I hope you're happy to know more about me. Bye, and see you soon!

[sttudnobright]

Planet of the Apes: Singing and Speaking (Updated: 08/02/2025)

Before Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes came out, I was hooked by the trailer and in response I binged watched the Caesar trilogy and read all the novelisations including the ones that covered the time after Rise and Dawn.

My favourite excerpt out of all of the books was a small excerpt from War for the Planet of the Apes: Revelations where an orang-utan named Ray hears humans singing for the first time.

I really loved how Ray was trying to find things he had heard so far in his life to try and compare it to. It was a tiny part of the story and wasn't part of the plot but it was a sweet little interlude.

Now after seeing Kingdom and learning how important song is to Eagle Clan in order to bond with their eagles, I can't help but be anxious and hope that they hear humans sing too.

Singing and music has been integral to humans regardless of culture throughout our history in order to express joy, hope and excitement to anger and grief.

I don't think apes in the reboot are capable of singing in the same way as humans yet, as the actor of Proximus Caesar, Kevin Durand mentioned in response to a question at the London premiere that his character might keep some humans around to sing him songs. Seen below:

1:00 onwards, Kevin describes making Proximus' voice and from 1:51 is when he mentions Proximus keeping humans to sing.

Considering Proximus has a love/hate relationship with humans, I don't think he'd keep one around to sing if apes were capable of singing in the same way.

Either way I hope there is an opportunity in future films for this to happen. (Not a musical of course :D lol )

Speaking: Apes vs Humans

There can be a scientific reason the franchise could use as to why apes are slowly getting better at speaking and perhaps one day singing. It turns out there's slightly different morphological differences in the larynx (voice box) between apes and humans.

According to this article:

The main difference is that apes have 'small ribbon-like extensions of the vocal cords... called a vocal membrane' and 'ballon-like laryngeal structures called air sacs' . According to the article these structures help some apes and monkeys produce those loud and resonant calls and also helped prevent hyperventilation, while vocal membranes '"...allow other primates to make louder, higher pitched calls than humans - but they make voice breaks and noisy vocal irregularity more common," said evolutionary biologist... W Tecumseh Fitch of the University of Vienna.'

This could explain in part how most of the apes in the Caesar trilogy relied heavily on sign language because despite ALZ-113 affecting their intelligence, it didn't appear to do much for their vocal structures. The exception of course being Caesar, Koba and Bad Ape.

The argument can be made that Koba and Bad Ape learned to speak through sheer effort and strain albeit for different reasons. Despite their efforts however they still had to use shorter words either because they didn't have/know them or they couldn't continue the sound long enough to say them. As a result where a human could speak in longer sentences without pausing, they had to break their sentences up as they couldn't vocalise the longer words and sustain the sentence.

Caesar could be a slight exception. It was shown in War that he can speak in longer sentences with fewer pauses and could probably handle longer words. This may be because he was exposed to ALZ-112 while in utero and any slight physiological changes could have happened to his development before his birth.

Fast forward 300 years to Kingdom's timeline and most apes are speaking similar to how Caesar was in War. Though there are slight differences depending on characters. For Eagle Clan, the apes there do speak clearly and to the point. Only using the words they need to make themselves understood, however there are still pauses in the sentence and there's no noticeably long words. They don't seem to use any words longer than two syllables and if they do use words longer than that, it was uncommon.

While with Proximus, he's trying to walk a line between ape and human, so he's training himself to speak for longer and learning more complicated words though there are rare instances where he still needs to pause now and then while speaking them. For example, while he had no audible problem saying words like 'advancement', 'familiar', 'dangerous' or 'wonderful'. He did sound out the word 'evolution', breaking it down into syllables (this might have been because it was a new one he had recently learned), and when he accused Mae of being 'duplicitous' he had to pause before speaking it out loud (though he was getting quite agitated when he said this and it could have just been emotion).

This could signal that with every generation of apes (at least in this part of the world), their vocal membranes and air sacs (if they have them) are being used less and less and will run the risk of them becoming redundant and likely phased out of their physiology altogether.

The researchers stated in the article above that the loss of these tissues and our larynx evolving to be situated lower in the windpipe than in other primates. were vital to the ability of speech in humans. their loss enabled us to have 'excellent pitch control with long and stable speech sounds,' giving us '... the ability to express thoughts and feelings using articulate sounds.'

In summary it appears that our simplified voice box has allowed us to have more range to not just speak but sing as well.

In the Planet of the Apes franchise it appears with every new film that the apes may be slowly gaining this simplified structure too or at least their version of it. So who knows, maybe if there's another trilogy after Noa and Mae's story arc, apes may have evolved enough where they have the same vocal range as humans do/had.

[dock57]

Fellow Monkey Wrench fan here! :D

So... I'm currently working on a post (planned to have some accompanying artwork) speculating/analysing the potential biology of some characters.

I am aware that a lot of questions are still unanswered and that there will be a lot of "knowledge gaps" (which I will address in that post), so think of this project as being part-educational, part-theory, and just a fun project in general (a couple of concepts/headcanons here and there).

Thought I'd share a couple of teasers (from how I plan to structure it to a couple of sneaky excerpts):

Shrike and cephalopods (I like cephalopods so I have a feeling I'll enjoy researching this one)

The scientific basis behind the colourful flames Ricket, Jawbone and the other skeleton aliens have (which I've mostly finished)

The biological implications of radiation for the Agari and Jawbone (from a theory I had where the Cataclysm involved some kind of radioactive material being leaked into space - halfway finished with that)

IRL species that share traits with Tyneen (I'm no reptile or dinosaur expert (and there may be some unexpected ideas here and there), but I'm curious to hear anyone else's own theories)

IRL species that share traits with Agent K (one or two of them may surprise you, but there is some method to my madness)

A lengthy ramble investigation to see if Beebs has more in common biologically with walruses or with humans (I'm already dreading this one because understanding human metabolism and body composition is already a confusing exercise, let alone those things for walruses)

Please let me know if you have any thoughts on this project so far!

[WOW. WOW IS WHAT I GOT TO SAY! Don't take that out of content, I am really AMAZED by the detail you went into this. Honestly you went into thoughts I would never really thought of. For starters, the flames of the Osteon kind, such how different color flames are different chemical combinations. That's such an interesting detail to paid attention to. Even the concept/idea as to how their biology works? I enjoy that! I myself am someone who likes to find answers or reasonings as to how things work for world building, species, and devices and such. I'll be honest, but I haven't thought too much how the Osteon species work. I think a lot for Shrike and Beebs, but that might because they are based on animals I can research and connect their traits too. As for skeletons? Its a bit hard for the connections between them and what is factual, besides relating it to human qualities, even though, they are not human (or terrans in this case). I enjoy seeing other fans thinking about their species more and how to connect to their real counterparts. The bullet points for the Agari is super interesting to read as well. I can see exactly where you got the idea of heterotrophic for one theory. As Us, in their design, you can see a skull of another being on their shoulder.

For your Agent K point, I am not sure what a Marine Flatworm is? I typed it in and got this:

This is referring to your bullet point for Agent K. When it comes to Agent K... I have no clue what he is supposed to be, a reference to, or even inspired by? I love Agent K however and his design. Back to the flatworm, I can see the idea for it for Agent K.

Because I mean, look at this man. Look how he moves...

He makes me think of a Ribbon Worm as well! However, not as cute or appealing looking compared to the Flatworm you have mentioned! (Ribbon Worms look like something that has come out of the human body- like an intestine...) As for Queen Tyneen, I don't think I have anything to add? She's definitely a dinosaur, and I would say the crest could be feathers as we know for a fact that dinosaurs had feathers! As for her colors? Not a clue! But they are very pretty together! Got to love our favorite Pirate Queen!

Also, not sure if you meant to add something for Beebs and points about his species being inspired by Walruses, but I don't have anything on my end speaking about him and his kind!

As for my own thoughts about this? I honestly don't have much! I am interested to see what these posts are that you plan to do for each theories and ideas you have for the species of the Monkey Wrench world! I do enjoy reading what you guys send me when it comes to your own thoughts and if I have anything to add myself. I think the information itself was just interesting to read! As a fan myself, I just love hearing others and their rambles they have for Monkey Wrench, as it by far my personal favorite when it comes to indie animation projects!]

[violentlyviolettripledecker]

Monkey Puzzle Tree Update

The first chapter of the second work Monkey Puzzle Tree is up!

Summary: Alfie and Edna are married. There are so many surprises in store that neither of them have time to think of what it will mean when the surprises stop being good.

Pairing: Alfie Solomons/OFC (Edna)

Tags: First Time, Fake Marriage (that became real), Honeymoon in Margate, Canon Jewish Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Period Typical Attitudes (especially surrounding virginity, pls remember these are not the author's own thoughts 😬😬)

Read here on AO3!

Excerpt under the cut.

Alfie gave her a look, his brows raised and they both laughed. “Anna’s been on the sauce a bit, eh? Are you ready?”

Edna put her arm through his and Alfie pushed open the door. Everyone was cheering so loud Edna couldn’t hear a word. She did cry just a little bit, just because it would have made Mama and Papa so happy to be here, throwing handfuls of rice and confetti and rose petals along with everyone else, and maybe a small part of her wanted Cece to know that her dress was better, but mostly the tears were because she wanted her family there and they weren’t.

Alfie opened the car door for her and she slid in, holding her skirt close until she was sat down so it wouldn’t wrinkle. Alfie slid in after her and they were both laughing as Ishmael started the car and they started pulling things out of each other’s hair and brushing off each other’s shoulders.

“You all right, Edna?” He wiped a thumb under her eye and it came away wet.

“I just got a little homesick. But I’m better than all right.” To prove it, she kissed him.

Ishmael dropped them both off at the train station and Alfie grabbed her hand and didn’t let go as they boarded and found seats together. The train was crowded. She hadn’t thought of getting a private car since it was only an hour long trip , but she kind of wished she had once she realized they would have to share their car with three men all sitting a careful distance apart and looking at their respective newspapers rather than chancing talking to each other.

Alfie put his arm around her and they sat in a comfortable silence. She rested her head on his shoulder, glad for a reprieve from all of the noise of the wedding.

It had been absolutely perfect.

[lyon-77]

Hiii, first of all I love all your posts about Erlang, since the game came out I've taken a huge interest in him and I love to read your posts, they are extremely interesting and helpful as someone who loves to learn new things! So thanks a lot for that <3

Anyway I wanted to ask, is there any record of Erlang having a wife or something like that? I've read somewhere before that he was supposedly betrothed to a dragon princess?? (Something like that I don't really remember when or where I read it) And also, in the movie "New Gods: Yang Jian" when Yang Jian is at the casino ambushed by the three monkeys, the little monkey mentioned something like he had abandoned his wife or something similar to that? (I might be wrong here since the site where I watched the movie didn't have the best subtitles available, only good enough to understand the plot).

So I was wondering if you know something about that perhaps? (Btw I'm sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, English is not my first language <3)

Thank you! I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my ramblings 😊

To answer your question, no, Erlang Shen does not have a wife or a partner in Chinese mythology. The only source linking him with a dragon princess is The Lotus Lantern TV series, which is more or less a fantasy romcom. Personally, I always feel that assigning every deity a love story is unnecessary and out of character. In New Gods: Yang Jian, the monkeys were referencing the rumor that Erlang Shen abandoned his sister beneath Mount Hua 12 years ago. Erlang didn’t bother explaining himself to them, perhaps because he didn't care about being misunderstood by those who didn’t matter to him. It might also reflect Erlang's self-imposed exile, driven by the guilt over his inability to save his sister when she chose to sacrifice herself for the mortal world.

If we were to make up a partner for Erlang, the dragon princess would still be a poor choice. Erlang Shen’s lore is closely associated with the flood myth, water taming, and, by extension, dragon slaying or subduing. On that note, there’s actually a tale in which Erlang Shen disguises himself as a beautiful woman betrothed to an evil dragon prince. He kills the dragon prince at their wedding banquet, saving the nearby villages from recurring floods.

One unexpected yet fitting adaptation appears in The Legend of Nezha, where a romantic subplot is added between Yang Jian and the mountain spirit (山鬼), a mythological figure tied to a legendary mountain near Sichuan. Following the plot of The Investiture of the Gods, the series concludes with Yang Jian declining the offer to serve in the new court and returning to the mountains, where he and the mountain spirit transform into birds and disappear into the woods. From a characterization standpoint, it is in character for Erlang Shen to step away from power hierarchies and be drawn instead to the untamed world.

Ultimately, Erlang Shen is never depicted with a partner in canonical lore. This might be because he is already a powerful figure with extensive stories of his own, making the addition of a complementary character unnecessary for enriching his narrative. He’s also canonically a young adult, with an apparent age ranging from 16 to 26. This places him forever at the cusp of adulthood—old enough to possess strength and independence, yet unbound by familial or societal responsibilities. It’s a phase of life defined by exploration and self-discovery, free from the constraints of a prescribed role in the worldly system.

I think there's a collective desire among humans to envision certain deities, like Erlang Shen, as unbound young adults, for they embody the idealized traits we often associate with youth—carefree, open-minded, daring, idealistic, hopeful, and full of aspiration. Please indulge me as I end with excerpts from The Song for the Divine Lord (《神君歌》) by Lu You (陆游，1174 C.E.), a tribute poem for Erlang Shen that captures this sentiment:

Great Mount Tai could serve as a whetstone, The Eastern Sea could turn to dust over time. Only the brave one's unyielding will Strives forth through life and death. 泰山可为砺 东海可扬尘 惟有壮士志 死生要一伸 I dream of the Divine Lord descending from the celestial realm, So majestic, too sublime to fully capture. Flying loongs pull his chariot, with no steeds needed. Ghosts and spirits attend him, before and behind his stride. 我梦神君自天下 威仪奕奕难具陈 飞龙驾车不用马 诃前殿后皆鬼神 ... The mortal world is constrained, steeped in sorrow and pain, Yet the Divine Lord rejoices across endless springs. O to live uncrowned and die unhonored—what of it? True ones must not bear their aspirations in silence! 世间局促常悲辛 神君欢乐千万春 呜呼生不封侯死庙食 丈夫岂得抱志长默默

Of note, this poem was written at a temple honoring men who died defending against the Jin invasion. The sorrow and pain in Lu You’s verse reflect the turmoil of his era, marked by war and loss. His resilience and lifelong aspiration to reclaim lost lands draw from the idealism embodied by Erlang Shen.

[thedarknesseater]

@anaer talked about jealous suguru and my mind instantly went to @bazpango 's epic jjk×death note cross over fic!! I will fall short of words to describe how good it is. So here's some of my favourite jealous suguru excerpts under the cut

Strawberry Shortcake (Satoru Gojo and Light Yagami Go On A Blind Date)

"Would you believe that I missed you?" Suguru asks. "No." Suguru hums, and Satoru can hear the smile wrapping around it. "How long have you been watching me?" "A while."

The way this had me getting so giddy that suguru was here!

"Are you in love with him?" Suguru asks, and even he can only mask so much. Satoru huffs, amusedly, thinking about the front cover of the arts and culture section of the Japan Times. He'd throw himself into a laughing fit if someone wasn't still sleeping.

I WISH I COULD PUT THIS WHOLE INTERACTION ON HERE!

"He's very pretty. Prettier than the one in the paper." "Cruel," Satoru corrects. "He's cruel." "Oh?" Suguru's voice takes on a surprised lilt. "So you did miss me."

Ughhh, they make me soooo even though I'm here rooting for satoru and light.

A chill passes through the room. "I can't believe you," Suguru spits, thoroughly wounded, "…In bed with a fucking monkey." "Hey," Satoru seethes, and it's far too late now for him to retaliate. Light's awake, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

I'M BEING VERY RESTRAINED IN NOT GOING INTO THE NEXT CHAPTER WITH STSG SEX BECAUSE IF I DID THAT I WOULD BE COPY PASTING THE WHOLE SCENE. But yeah this fic has a really good jealous suguru and I love everything about them. (Also this is just me trying to get mutuals to read this fic so I can scream about it)

[pet-genius]

Excerpt from a SSHG fic that mostly exists in my head

A while ago I wrote, and then abandoned, a SSHG fic called "Soulsavers". I still think about it a lot, and so today I wrote a scene that could fit in it. The premise of the fic is that Hermione travels in time to try to talk young!Snape out of becoming a Death Eater, and they gradually develop feelings for each other. In this scene, the Slytherins at the breakfast table debate an editorial on the Daily Prophet:

Hermione would have been almost perfect, if she had not been so fucking clueless, Severus ‎thought. He shoved aside her inexplicable strokes of near-omniscience, along with the ‎knowledge that, had she been at this school since the start, she'd probably want nothing to do ‎with him, like all the other girls. “Oh, can you believe this utter bollocks,” she said, slamming ‎the Daily Prophet on her half-eaten toast.‎

"Finally, she's getting some sense into that head of hers,” Black remarked. “It's absurd to ‎think our society isn't under threat, even if most of them are just shaved monkeys.”‎ But Severus suspected that Black was merely projecting. Hermione gave Black a cold look ‎and mumbled something about “see how you talk in five months”. Regulus was too busy ‎admiring his own voice to hear her, and Severus already knew he wouldn’t get a straight ‎answer. Hermione turned to him, and asked, “Are people really dumb enough to believe ‎atomic bombs are because Muggles steal magic?! And this is how they justify all this idiotic ‎purity stuff?!”‎

Severus asked himself again, for the thousandth time, what were they teaching them in Australia, and stared into his tea. He knew Muggles, and as far as he could tell, wanton destruction is exactly what they would do with magic.

“Well?!” She demanded.

“Doesn’t it make sense, though? Suddenly, they can do this, and even they don’t fully understand how it works, innit?”

“You can’t expect me to explain how atomic bombs work! They’re the ones claiming Muggles stole magic, they can prove it! How were they even supposed to do it?!”

Severus shrugged. However the Muggles had come by atomic weapons, they still had, so wasn't it only right for them to be contained?

“And look at what this… this… Oh, the writer of this editorial is a Malfoy, of course! So how does suggest enforcing his ideas? You kill all the Muggle-borns, new ones will keep turning up!”

Severus glanced at Lily, who was giving Potter the cow eyes as he read out of the same editorial. “Dumbledore wants us to learn from them. He wants us to let their children mix with ours with nary a thought for preserving our identity,” James orated, exaggerating even his own pomposity.

Preserving our identity… Funny, that. There seemed to be nothing left of the Lily he loved so much, who could see her sister and his father for what they were: resentful, obsessed with their own weakness, believing it entitled them to treat their magical kin like the dirt on their shoes.

“Our secrets and our powers corrupted in their unworthy hands, whilst the Ministry wrestles with the minutiae of the Dark Artifacts Regulation Act,” the older Black continued, and still Lily looked at Potter with naked admiration. Such courage, such chivalry, mocking Dumbledore’s critics in Dumbledore’s own school.

“That's easy, Granger,” Regulus interjected. “You know it was Godric Gryffindor who insisted that the admissions book include every magical child. We could, you know, just have someone alert us when a new name turns up, if they're not born to a proper family. That's what the Trace was originally for, you know.”

“Not according to Hogwarts: A History,” Hermione rebutted. Another issue of hers, she could never help correcting people. Sadly, Black had deep roots in their society, and he reminded her in no uncertain terms that he had a headmaster's portrait in his living room and that she would do well not to correct her betters.

What an ass, he could hear her think, and quietly assented. Even an ass, though, was better than an inveterate criminal.

“Not everyone are as psychotic about it as the Blacks, mate,” Avery said. “Don’t scare our half-blood friend here, you know we want him to join. We don't need to kill their babies, we don't have to stoop to their level.

Severus could feel Hermione tense up, but he could not understand why. Nothing Avery’d just said was false. “We could just... have a separate school for them, to teach them respect for our ways. Then if they prove themselves, their children could study here.”

“Or we do nothing and let them blow themselves up,” a more practical minded younger Slytherin suggested. “Or take their babies and raise them like useful servants, without access to wands, of course,” Matilda chimed in.

The conversation turned to the many ways the Muggle-born question could be dealt with, and Hermione grew pale beside him.

“You can't possibly want to join them, Severus! Listen to them!”

Didn't he? He was wiser, now, than he was at 11. His desperate attempt to cling to Lily had failed long ago, not before costing him years of isolation from the other Slytherins. Of course he would have wanted for it all to be different, for the world to be simple. But it couldn't be. And Severus loved magic too much, and knew the muggles too well, to be that much of an idealist.

“It's rule or be ruled, Hermione,” he said with a shrug. “What makes you think the muggles or their children would rush to help you?”

Hermione had a peculiar (and aggravating) tendency to be very certain of herself, as regards what was right or wrong, and what Severus could or could not possibly want, and then crumble at the first sign of resistance. For all her fiery opposition, he expected her to have a better counter-argument than “But if you believe that, how is the world ever going to change?”

Who said he wanted to change the world? What if he had just–finally–understood it, and how he could thrive in it? And why did Hermione seem so convinced it was down to him how the world would turn out?

There was no use denying it, though. He liked that she made him feel important. He buttered his own toast and smiled at her, and she smiled wanly back. She was almost perfect, and it was far more than he had hoped for not so long ago.

[quillthrillswriting]

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i've always said that late teens aang would absolutely give flirty silly goofy flynn rider energy and now i've written an entire kataang fanfic to support my delusions.

my last promo post had all the actually serious and eye-catching moments, so for this one, i just put together all the moments that i found fun:)<3 enjoy some silly excerpts from "all at once, everything is different," AKA kataangled!!!

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“Stop where you are, Avatar,” Prince Sokka shouted, his voice echoing between trees over the sound of his horse, Hawky. 

The Captain of the Royal Guard, General Toph, did not use nearly as formal language. “When I catch you, you lily livered-” 

“Can’t hear you over the sound of Appa outrunning the both of you!” Aang crowed triumphantly, leaning forward to pat the white and grey horse on his arrow-addorred head. On his shoulder, his monkey-lemur, Momo, chittered his agreement, sticking out his tongue at Sokka as he tauntingly waved a small satchel of bean-curd puffs at the prince.

“Toph, are you seeing this?” Sokka’s tone was irate, utterly incredulous. “The little thief’s rat thing took my lunch!”

“‘Little thief?” Aang clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I have a formal title, y’know. Or have you both gotten so haughty and royal that you can’t show a commoner any respect?”

Toph snarled, the earth reaching up to meet her as she strode after Aang, cutting through stone and dirt as if it were a still pool. “I’ll give you my respect once you earn it, twinkle toes, and you certainly won't if you keep running from us like this.”

Aang twisted to face them, assuming a meditative stance as he cocked his head teasingly, his tone mockingly pouty. “But I’m just so good at it!”

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“Did you see which way they went?” From the sound of his voice, Sokka was both irritated and incredibly embarrassed. 

“No.” Toph’s voice was flat, utterly unaffected. “Obviously, I didn’t see which way they went.”

An awkward silence passed as what Sokka had said sunk in.

“Oh. Right. Um, my bad, Toph.”

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“Hey, I don’t know who you are, or where I am, if I’m being entirely honest. I genuinely don’t mean to intrude. I was just hoping for a place to lie low. I happen to be…” he trailed off, coughing awkwardly. “On the run from the law, it seems.”

Katara cocked a brow, her tone incredulous. “You expect me to willingly harbour a criminal?”

“You seemed to have no problem with trapping one in your house.” Aang huffed, crossing his arms. “And I’m not some common criminal. I’m a monk. It was more of a steal-bread-to-feed-the-hungry type situation, if you can believe that. And I do have a name, beyond “thief” or “mysterious but devilishly handsome home invader.” It’s Aang.”

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It took Aang a day longer than expected, and the moment Aang saw Katara’s face brighten at the sight of him, he absolutely refused to let it go.

“You really did miss me, didn’t you?”

Katara refused to respond, but to Aang, her silence spoke volumes. 

“Awe, you really did,” He grinned, reaching to ruffle the top of her head as she swatted at his hands. 

“Even if I did miss you-”

“-you did.” Aang interrupted. 

“Which I didn’t ,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

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Now, standing on the precipice of going against almost every single one of her mother’s wishes, she was beginning to get cold feet. Perhaps Aang could read that in her face, or maybe he just felt like messing with her, because when she hesitated for a few moments longer, he simply pulled her over his shoulder, racing toward the river that pooled by the edge of the clearing, as Katara giggled wildly.

“What are you doing ?” She managed between laughs.

“Grass seemed too scary, so I figured I might as well reconnect you with your birth element.”

“ Aang .” Her voice grew flat as she put two and two together. “Aang! Do not throw me in the-”

“Too late!” He crowed, jumping into the deep end, still clinging onto her.

︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵

“We have to get you to a hospital, Aang. I don’t want to risk reopening the wound. Kissing can wait.”

“No, it cannot ,” Aang declared decidedly, dipping her low as he pulled her in again. “19 years was long enough to wait without ever kissing you. Now is the time for kissing.”

“Now is the time for the hospital .”

Aang wrinkled his nose, brutally offended at Katara’s prioritisation of his health. She relented, a soft smile spreading across her lips, as she pulled him in gently, kissing him again. 

︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵

♥ feel free to check out the entirety of this fic & my ao3 here! ->

[hermiola]

Growing on Me (M, 12/15)

Title: Growing on Me Chapters: 12/15 (almost 94K so far) Rating: M Tags: Human AU, Rockstar Crowley (again!), Writer Aziraphale, Bickerflirting, Comedy, a pinch of Dark Humor, no angst, Crowley as a washed up rockstar addicted to TikTok, Aziraphale as a writer who hasn't made it, Forced Proximity (in a cottage on the Isle of Skye), Music and lyrics as a Metaphor™, Old Married Couple Energy

Chapter 12 summary:

In the last ten days on Skye, things change and people too (even if they don't talk about it).

Excerpt from Chapter 12:

“Crowley?” Aziraphale inquired politely once he’d walked up to him. That’s when he noticed Crowley’s left foot was stuck in the mud. “Oh dear.” “‘Oh dear’ my bloody fucking arse!” Crowley snapped. “Your stupid fairytale thingy has just kidnapped my foot!” “I’m sure that’s a bit of an over-exaggeration. Besides, if you had–” “Don’t you dare,” Crowley warned him, eyes flashing behind his shades. “If you say ‘I told you so’ right now, I’m going to drown myself in this stupid puddle then haunt you for the rest of your life. And I can already tell you, you’re not going to like it!” “How can you be so sure?” (Paranormal erotica involving ghosts, now that was an idea.) “Because they’ll make a depressing documentary about my life, and everyone will know you were the last person to see me alive, and they’ll ask you to participate and you’ll say no, because you think the telly is a getaway to drugs or something, and everyone will find it suspicious and–” Another groan. “Satan down below, if they ever make a movie about me, please don’t let me be played by a monkey. An aardvark, maybe, but not a monkey.” “Why an aardvark?” “‘Cause they wouldn’t know what to do with it and they would eventually give up. Obviously.”

Read it on Ao3:

[doubledaybooks]

Read an Excerpt from "Between Two Moons" by Aisha Abdel Gawad

Bay Ridge was about to fast for a whole month of fifteen-­hour days. We would be one dry mouth, one rumbling belly, one pounding head. Mothers would wake at least an hour before dawn to make the suhoor meal, to scramble eggs and basturma in skillets. And when the children and the husbands finally woke up, usually with only a few minutes to spare, the mothers would stuff the mixture into pita halves so their families could eat more quickly, in time to perform wudu and pray with the sun. It was your last chance to eat and drink and smoke and fuck and curse and gossip and think unkind thoughts until the sun set again in the evening.

Baba shuffled after Mama like a bad dog. Lina stood up and yawned, letting out a long moan. Mama made us a breakfast of hard-­boiled eggs, mashed fava beans, and sliced tomatoes. We sat around the kitchen table, shoveling food sleepily into our mouths, letting bits of egg dribble down our chins. After we’d eaten, Mama stood sentry over us and watched as we each downed three full glasses of water.

“I’m going back to bed,” Lina said after she’d finished.

“Haram, ya binti,” Mama said and grabbed the collar of her Wu-­Tang T-­shirt.

The sun was creeping up the horizon and we still needed to pray Fajr. Mama dragged the coffee table to the corner of the living room to clear space for the four of us to pray all lined up. Then she brought us a basket of delicate white prayer scarves with edges like doilies. Lina and I each slipped one on, and then Mama pointed to the bathroom. We zombie-­shuffled over to it, purposefully knocking into each other as we went.

Lina and I stood side by side in front of the bathroom sink. Silently, we washed ourselves with cold New York City tap water. We were efficient and thorough. In the name of God, state your intent to perform wudu. Wash both hands up to the wrists. Rinse your mouth three times. Clean your nostrils, breathing in water and blowing it out three times. Rinse your face three times. Wash your arms up to the elbows three times. Slick your hair back like an Italian mobster, once. Wash your ears. Wash your feet. Do you feel cleansed? Are you ready?

After we had performed wudu, Mama wanted Baba, our patriarch, to stand in front and lead us in prayers, but he was annoyed about being late to the shop. Baba didn’t like to pray—­sometimes, when he was feeling nostalgic about the old days in the old country, he would tell me about the time he was eighteen and he stormed out of his village masjid back in Egypt.

“That stupid imam, he tell me man come from ball of clay and clot of blood, and I tell him, What, are you stupid? Man, he come from monkey, not clay! So I leave and I go home and I tell my mama, Mama, I’m not praying anymore. And ever since that day, I never pray again.”

Except, of course, he did pray again. Countless times. But I think I know what he meant. He meant that he never really felt it again, never again believed that it would help him ace a test or publish the poems he wrote in the margins of his school notebooks. He prayed now like a man following orders, like a man too tired to put up a fight.

The clock on the mantel chimed. It was like a cuckoo clock, except instead of birds it opened to reveal a tiny golden Ka’ba that spun and played a recording of a famous muezzin from Egypt reciting the call to prayer. A robotic voice told us that prayer is better than sleep. There are no minarets in Brooklyn. God’s name does not echo across the buildings. There is nothing but a clock on the wall.

Baba was persuaded to stand in front of us, his womenfolk, and lead prayers. But he rushed through all his rakat, touching his forehead to the carpet for only a moment before standing up again. The rest of us were only halfway through when we heard the door close behind him.

When we had finished, Lina and I squeezed together in her bed. I tried to close my eyes and determine whether I felt any different on the first day of the holy month. The month when, a zillion years ago, the Prophet Muhammad received his first revelations up on that mountaintop. He thought he was just a poor illiterate orphan escaping to the mountain to rest his mind. But then the Angel Jibrail came down, and—­bam—­all of a sudden he was a prophet, the prophet.

For some that summer, the next thirty days would be filled with prayers and reflections and recitations. Bodies and minds would be purified. But for the rest of us, it would be thirty days of waiting for the sun to set so we could eat and drink without incurring the judgment of all the collective mothers and grandmothers and aunties of Bay Ridge, who with one wagging finger and one cluck of the tongue could banish us into a prison of guilt.

The waiting. Every Ramadan, people waited for Lina to change. To be struck with the spirit of Islam, to ditch her cutoffs and halter tops for a nice, modest abaya. To hang out after prayers with the good Muslim girls at the Starbucks on 3rd instead of drinking with the Mexicans in Sunset Park. And every Ramadan, Lina waited for people to go ahead and give up on her.

Baba waited for Mama to mellow, to hang up her abayas, put down her Qur’an, and become once again the quietly irreverent girl he had married.

Mama waited for us, her husband and daughters, to believe as we ought to.

They both waited for Sami, their boy, their firstborn, to come back to them.

I waited for something without a name. A jolt, a tingling, a filling up.

Ordinarily, I didn’t care much about Ramadan. But that summer, with our high-­school graduation only days away, it felt momentous. Suddenly the things around me—­tables, books, clouds—­were imbued with meaning that I was supposed to be able to decipher but couldn’t. In September, I would go to college, and I was sure that by then I would be different. I would push and the world would stumble in response.

Lying next to Lina that first morning, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the woman I was destined to become. I saw a glimmer of my own future arm, thinner, with a figure-­eight tattoo curling around my wrist. I smiled to myself, but then I realized that I had stolen this wrist off the girl who served us pizza yesterday after school. It was her tattoo, her skin, her body. I had plagiarized my own imaginings of myself. So, eyes closed, I kept waiting for knowledge to strike me like an arrow in the heart.

These are the normal kinds of waiting that fill the long, dry-­mouthed days of Ramadan. But this Ramadan, this particularly long and hot Ramadan, there was another kind of waiting that we all shared. It kept everyone in Bay Ridge strung together on a long, tenuous thread, knocking into one another like prayer beads.

[junipernight]

Excerpt from Accompaniment

I'm writing an Avatar Yangchen story, but I am a verrrryyy slowww writer, and I am so so impatient to share what i have written with people, and what I have written so far is three variations on a chapter that will take place somewhere in the middle.

Read on if you like: past lives, sleepy kisses, or characters who protect each others secrets.

*******************************************

Context: The team has just left Taku on a ship and is en route to the North Pole. They’re sitting around a stove belowdecks after a difficult day of sailing, and Jujinta has just said something funny.

The rest of the team immediately howled with laughter. It was true, and it was so unexpected, coming from Jujinta, that the observation was suddenly ten times funnier. Akuudan slapped him on the back like a proud uncle whose favorite nephew had just passed his ice dodging ceremony; he nearly knocked him off the bench with his strength, but Jujinta didn’t seem to mind. Kavik had never seen Juji look so pleased with himself.

When she could speak again around the laughter still in her throat, Yangchen breathed, “Good one, Ju Dee.”

Jujinta paused. “... My name’s Jujinta,” he said, sounding hurt.

“Hmm?” The Avatar hummed.

Kavik looked at Yangchen, really looked at her. She sat drooped in her seat, curled around her teacup, staring into the coals with shining, half-lidded eyes.

Or at least, someone was staring into the coals through her soft gray eyes.

“O-kay, I think it’s time for bed,” Kavik said, gently taking the teacup from her hands. He wrapped an arm under her shoulders, and hoisted her to her feet, immediately provoking an uproar from their companions.

“Hey!”

“What are you-”

“You can’t just-”

Apparently, being forgiven for his betrayal in Bin-Er didn’t mean he was absolved from what the rest of the team perceived as Slights Against the Avatar. Kavik hastily stepped away from her and held his hands up placatingly.

The yelling seemed to snap Yangchen out of whatever trance she’d been in; she clapped her palms over her ears.

“Chattering hog monkeys, what’s all the fuss about?”

“He needs to show you more respect,” complained Tayagum, though the Avatar’s apparent dismissiveness towards the situation took the wind out of his sails. 

She yawned—a big, air nomad yawn—and turned away from the fire.

“I’m going to bed,” she announced.

Kavik took one look at the glares he was receiving and decided to follow her out,

He caught up to her outside the captain’s quarters—another thing not usually found on water tribe ships.

“Wait!” he called. “Are you okay? Are you... you?” he asked quietly

Yangchen exhaled. “I’m me, alright. Was I somebody else earlier?”

“You called Jujinta by the wrong name.”

She winced.

“You didn’t say anything else though!” he hastened to add. “It was nothing obvious, I don’t think the others would ever guess, unless you’ve told them about your…”

“Blessing?” she supplied wryly.

“That,” said Kavik. “... have you told them?”

“No,” Yangchen frowned. “And I don’t want to, because… because…well, I just don't."

Kavik understood. She didn’t need to explain any further.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he said. He began to turn away. “Goodnight, Av-”

Suddenly, Yangchen closed the distance between them and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight, Kavik.”

Kavik could only gape as she gently closed the door in his face.

***********************************

“... O-kay, I think it’s time for bed,” Kavik said, gently taking the teacup from her hands. He wrapped an arm under her shoulders, and hoisted her to her feet.

“Good night,” he said to the rest of the team. Tayagum glared at him, presumably for daring to touch the Avatar, but Akuudan merely looked thoughtful. Jujinta was still staring hard into his cup, the poor guy.

He escorted her back to the captain's quarters—another thing not commonly found on water tribe ships. Yangchen leaned on his shoulders the whole way, walking with the shuffling steps of the very old.

They stopped outside her door.

“Are you good from here?” he asked.

Yangchen didn’t answer.

“Avatar?” He asked.

She was looking at him. Studying his facial features….which seemed like something Yangchen would do. She had probably come back to herself during their short walk, and was now watching his pupils to see if they would dilate when she asked him some extremely important question assessing his loyalty.

 Instead, she cupped his face in her hand, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Goodnight,” she breathed, before stepping into her room and closing the door.

Kavik stood in the hallway in shock. His hand flew up to where her lips had brushed across his skin moments before. So much for checking his pupils.

Had she…? Yes. Or maybe not? She’d definitely kissed him, but had she kissed him? The gesture had seemed almost grandmotherly, like his gran-gran greeting him with a kunik. 

As far as he knew, only watertribesmen did kunik. Everywhere else, a kiss was well… a kiss.

His stomach fluttered, as he realized how much he hoped that Yangchen had been herself when she kissed him, and that she hadn’t meant it in a familial way. 

Most of all, he really hoped she’d do it again.

**********************************************

…Or at least, someone was staring into the coals with her soft gray eyes. 

If it had been just the two of them, Kavik wouldn’t have hesitated to wrap an arm around Yangchen’s willowy shoulders and guide her to bed. But that would look strange to the others. Plus, the three older men didn’t like the casual way he and Yanchen often acted around each other, and he’d just gotten back into their good books.

Kavik was tired of being shunned.

So instead he said, very cautiously, “Avatar? You seem tired. Maybe you should go to bed.”

The Avatar rose from her seat, but made no move to leave.

“Tired?” She snorted. “What gave you that idea?”

“Then rest,” said Akuudan. “Tomorrow we’ll be in reach  of the Northern Water Tribe, and we’ll need to be sharp.”

Yangchen scoffed. “Even the sharpest blade cannot slice open a river.”

The others blinked at her in confusion. It was a variation of a common enough proverb, but it was unclear how it applied in this context.

“What do you mean?” asked Tayagum.

“I mean that Chief Ha-”

Kavik choked very suddenly and very loudly on the rice wine he’d been sipping. Tayagum slapped him hard on the back repeatedly, which made his fake coughs turn into very real gasps for air. He hoped that between the commotion and the alcohol, no one would notice the Avatar strategizing against a long-dead chief.

“Thanks,” he said to the older man, sarcastically

“Anytime,” said Tayagum brightly.

The Avatar was the only one who hadn’t reacted to his coughing fit. She was still standing in front of the stove, the reflection of embers sparkling in her eyes.

Embers. In the weeks they had been traveling together, Kavik had met at least two more of Yangchen’s past lives. Neither of them had been as alarming as the first one he’d met - the Avatar on the brink, the one called to the forefront by fire and exhaustion, the one whose friend was called Mesose.

If that was who he was dealing with, Kavik couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer.

“You look dead on your feet,” he said. He rose to his own feet, and gently took her elbow, the way he had a dozen times in Taku. “Come on,” he said, tugging on her arm. “Even you can’t stay awake forever.”

To his relief, Yangchen’s feet began to move. 

“Good night!” He called over his shoulder, as they left the others behind.

Kavik led her down the hall to the captain’s quarters. He hesitated at the door, but one look at her slack expression made him turn the knob and step inside. 

The room was dark. Kavik could just make out a bed, a small desk, and several bundles of white fluff. A backstrap loom had been tied to the bedpost, and a half finished white cloth was stretched out upon it.

Kavik finally knew what Yangchen had been doing in her room all these days; she’d been weaving mourning robes.

Kavik let out a heavy sigh, and guided her to the bed. He shifted the loom and the half woven garment to the desk, unlaced her boots, and was about to tuck her in when her hand caught his.

”You’re not mad at me for what I said earlier, are you Sese?”

Sese! So this was the same past life. They seemed…. less resentful than the first time they’d met. Maybe the real Mesose had done a better job at convincing the Avatar that humanity was worth saving. Or maybe Yangchen had been remembering a bad day.

Once again, Kavik stepped into the role of Mesose. “I could never stay mad at you,” he replied. 

“Never?”

“Yeah, I think you’re only temporarily infuriating.”

The Avatar batted her eyes at him. “Does that mean I get a goodnight kiss?”

Spirits help him. Kavik gulped, and glanced at the open door, and then back at the Avatar’s expectant upturned gaze.

…. He just had to play along. Just for a little bit, until she went to sleep. It wasn’t like he hadn’t pretended to be the Avatar’s lover before.

He hesitantly knelt by the bed and leaned forward, bypassing her mockingly puckered lips to press a chaste kiss to her forehead, right on the tip of her arrow.

Yangchen made a contented noise, and nestled into the covers, apparently, finally, ready to go to sleep. On an impulse, Kavik brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Goodnight, Yangchen,” he said, and left the room

-Fin-

[frameacloud]

"Can a therian have a theriotype that is an insect, monkey, fish, [insert other rarely claimed theriotype]?"

"There remain some therians, even sites or boards, that believe only certain types of animals can be theriotypes while other animals are excluded. However, a wide variety of animal types have been represented in the online community [...] There appears no restriction on the capacity for a person to end up being probably any type of animal [...] We currently do not know the bounds and limitations by which the internal self, identity, soul, or psychology can subjectively manifest within an individual. And there is thus the potential that there are people (whether or not they ever enter the online therian or otherkin communities) who have animal, plant, other organism, etc. internal aspects equivalent to that of therians and otherkin but of creatures or organisms many therian/’kin may not expect or even want to accept are such internally. Skepticism can be understandable, but it’s important to be respectful to others even amongst skepticism and to realize that we are far from honestly having all of the 'facts' about being therian and otherkin."

- Excerpt from "Question and Answer," an article by Sonne, written in 2008 and 2009. You can read the whole article on Project Shift, a website that collected articles about therianthropy.

[mandareeboo]

Title: Chimera Courtship

Summary: Red Son tries to kidnap MK for courting purposes, only to find out he's in a QPR with Mei. Well. He's never been one to break up a family.

Excerpt:

"Noodle boy," he says, only slightly winded from the force of grabbing and throwing him into said motorcycle. "I have kidnapped you today for the express purpose of demon courtship." Red Son's lip quivers as he realizes who, exactly, he's talking to. "Are you aware of what that is?" "Oh, yeah! Totes. Monkey King told me all about it." Pigsy is in the window, looking harried by the late hour but otherwise unimpressed. MK does his best to wave. "We've got to, like, talk first about this." The glasses slide down Red Son's face as he studies him a brutally long moment. MK half expects him to rip the gold off and send him on his way. Finally, he pushes them up, and says in a quiet, almost hurt tone of voice, "Is that a no, peasant?"

Ugggghhhhh this reads like ass. You can tell it's been a bit since i wrote fanfiction bc my first go back is always trash. I just wanted to get started on my dive into LMK writing!

Commissions Are Open! || Ko-fi

[acescorazon]

Changes

Chapter: 3/?

word count: 2514

Rating: M

Warnings: Crocodile , Explicit language, minor violence (slightly less than last chapter's lol.)

Chapter excerpt:

Crocodile glances around the room before looking back down at his papers, “It turns out with Buggy’s new status…” He pauses, grimacing slightly, “With the Clown’s new status, the marines won’t just come attacking us out of the blue, but these bounties will definitely be seen as a threat, possibly even a declaration of war, and we have to be prepared for when they do decide to come after us or the event of a buster call.”

A buster call?!

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Buggy stammers, feeling the familiar sensation of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. “They…They wouldn’t do something crazy like blow up the entire island…right?” He asks, voice starting to crack a little as he speaks, “R-right?”

Mihawk speaks up, in a calm, flat tone, seemingly unworried about the possibility that the island could be wiped off the surface of the planet, “Of course they would,” he replies bluntly, “It’s only a matter of time before they try to annihilate us.”

[Previous part]

Buggy manages to avoid both Crocodile and Mihawk for about a week after the official public debut of Cross Guild, only catching brief glimpses of his ‘underlings’ out of the corner of his eye here and there around the island, before his luck comes to a rather abrupt end one morning. Crocodile calls for their first official meeting, after ordering Buggy beforehand to clear out a space for a makeshift meeting room, and even now Buggy has no idea why they even need a meeting room or to hold a meeting…

The quickest ‘meeting room’ Buggy can come up with is a storage closet filled partly with weapons that he cleared out a little and then put a table, a whiteboard, and three chairs in, and as soon as Crocodile steps foot inside the makeshift room, he sticks his nose high up in the air and sighs, “Whatever, let’s just get started,” He says, tossing an overstuffed manila folder onto the table in the middle of the room and having a seat first. Crocodile is impossible to please, and Buggy questions whether he’s an actual pirate or some kind of corrupted CEO with overly high standards.

“As briefly discussed before, our first step will be putting bounties on the Marines’ heads.” Crocodile opens up his folder, pulling out a couple of neatly stacked papers, “I’ve compiled a list of over one hundred marines, categorizing and ranking them all from highest to lowest bounties already to make things go a little faster,” He hands his papers over to Buggy, who looks at him, stunned and slightly horrified, “You make the bounty posters for them and have them distributed, but do come and see me before you distribute them, I don’t want a repeat of last weeks incident.”  

Yeah…Neither does Buggy.

Buggy looks down at the papers Crocodile just gave him, scanning over the list in utter disbelief… There are so many names here…where did he get all these from?! Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp… Vice Admiral Tsuru….  Vice Admiral Smoker….He reads, and the list continues to grow from there. Crocodile has everyone from Vice Admirals to Captains, to lieutenants and even lowly ranking officers on his hit list, he has people Buggy didn’t even know existed on the list, and for once he’s glad he’s on Crocodile’s side and not one of his enemies.  

“Of course, I don’t expect anyone to be able to take on any admirals, or even Akainu, but you never know what’ll happen,” Crocodile states, handing over what has to be the scariest list of names Buggy’s seen so far. “Moving on, We’ll also need ships, weapons, medical supplies, and most importantly, men and land.”

Woah, woah…Buggy’s still not even over this whole marine thing, are they really just going to skip over the fact that Crocodile was able to compile a list of hundreds of marines within a week? Where did he get this kind of information? “For the time being I want anyone we can get, making these bounties and offering protection to any brave individual who’s willing to take on the marines and or make a criminal out of themselves is the quickest way to get more people on our side because as it stands we only have about two hundred and thirty-five men, and there’s no way we could withstand a possible attack from the government.”

Crocodile glances around the room before looking back down at his papers, “It turns out with Buggy’s new status…” He pauses, grimacing slightly, “With the Clown’s new status, the marines won’t just come attacking us out of the blue, but these bounties will definitely be seen as a threat, possibly even a declaration of war, and we have to be prepared for when they do decide to come after us or the event of a buster call.”

A buster call?!

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Buggy stammers, feeling the familiar sensation of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. “They…They wouldn’t do something crazy like blow up the entire island…right?” He asks, voice starting to crack a little as he speaks, “R-right?”

Mihawk speaks up, in a calm, flat tone, seemingly unworried about the possibility that the island could be wiped off the surface of the planet, “Of course they would,” he replies bluntly, “It’s only a matter of time before they try to annihilate us.”

Crocodile, who seems equally as unbothered by the idea of a buster call, simply nods, “Exactly, which is why we need more men and land. These bounties will give us men, power, and higher status, but obviously, it’ll come with consequences. There will be a lot of injuries, deaths, and overall destruction by doing this.”

“So why are we doing it?!” Buggy exclaims, “This seems…”

“We can’t live in the world government’s world, can we?” Crocodile asks, still acting a little too nonchalant for Buggy’s liking, “So we’re going to create our own utopia.”

What the fuck does that even mean…?  

Oh, god. They’re going to die. They’re going to be blown to pieces and if they aren’t, they’re going to be executed in front of millions just like…

God, Buggy can’t do this. He can’t handle the idea of his home being blown up, or having to go back to Impel down, or, or being publicly executed. He-

He can’t just leave Cross Guild, Mihawk and Crocodile will kill him. But…remaining in Cross Guild will also get him killed. He’s really going to die. Any path Buggy chooses in life seems like it’ll lead to certain death, and he’s exhausted, he feels like he’s the one with a hit on his head. Buggy thinks back to when he was just a small-time pirate and finds himself missing those days where no one knew who he was or about his past. Back then he could run around freely without worrying about his men or his home being destroyed, but now even if he tried to run away from all his problems, there’s nowhere for him to hide.

God, he’s actually going to die.

There are tears in Buggy’s eyes as Crocodile rises from his seat, pulling out a photo before pinning it to the whiteboard in the room, “We can discuss ancient weapons in the next meeting, but for now let’s move on to land. In the event of a buster call, we’ll immediately have to get off the island and relocate. Now, I’ve picked a few islands out, but this one right here is the most interesting and closest, boys.” He points to the picture on the board, “This is Prickly Pear island, a spacious desert kingdom with a tyrannical king who’s starving his people and hoarding most of the country's wealth and resources. It’s easy pickings, we don’t even have to turn the people against their king, we just show up and ‘save’ all the citizens, and take over.” He grins.   

God, Buggy doesn’t want Emptee Bluffs Island to be blown up and he doesn’t want to live in the desert with Crocodile where he’s practically invincible, he just wants this nightmare to end...He just wishes he were still a warlord, no.. no, he wishes he were just a lowly pirate in Orange Town.  

God, he hates his life so much.

…

Their meeting lasts a lot longer than Buggy would have hoped it would, and he could hardly keep up with all Crocodile’s plans because, you know, there’s that new silly possibility of the world government blowing them to kingdom come… ahaha, so silly. Anyways once the meeting is over, he quickly gets the hell away from Crocodile and Mihawk as fast as possible and looks for men who can make the bounties for the marines because Buggy sure as shit isn’t going to do it himself, though he doesn’t know if they should really be doing this in the first place...

Whatever. Whatever, it’s too late.

Buggy counted one hundred and seventy-five different marines on Crocodile’s list, and the worst part: Crocodile says he’s actively trying to find out more names, and they’re…They’re fucking doomed. At this point, Buggy just has to pick which way he wants to die, and to be honest… He’d rather die by the Marines' hands than Crocodile’s.  

He finds himself anxiously roaming around and just… taking in the view of his island and all the men at work. Even with Mihawk and Crocodile around, Emptee Bluffs Island is bustling and filled with life, and to think that all that could be taken away in a moment's notice just because of Crocodile’s stupid pla--

“Hey, Clown.” God, what now?  Buggy thinks to himself, hating the way that Crocodile can’t be bothered to use his actual name most of the time. “I forgot to tell you that I want a main ship built right away.”

Buggy sighs, turning around to face his tormentor, ”But my men are already busy trying to fix the ships the marines didn’t completely destroy.”

“And? Find someone to build me a flagship, and make it quick.”

So bossy and annoying… Buggy closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath, trying to remain calm. If he lets his pride and his ego get the best of him right now, he’s going to lose his life. For once in his life, he should just shut up… But the urge to tell Crocodile to go to hell is so strong…Crocodile’s so demanding, and Buggy… just wants to…

“Yes.” He replies a moment later, not wanting to get on Crocodile’s bad side again, he’s had enough of that for a lifetime. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” He tries to end the conversation there and walk away, but Crocodile stops him, “One last thing, clown, about your appearance…”

After Crocodile has threatened to sell him into slavery, beat him senseless, took over his island, and gave him the world’s most unreasonable requests and expected him to fulfill everything in such a short amount of time, why was the straw that broke the camel's back Crocodile criticizing his appearance? “I don’t want Cross Guild to be seen as a joke. Get rid of the onesie and the annoying red nose.”

Get rid of the annoying red nose…

He told him to…He told him to…. Buggy stares at Crocodile, speechless, he feels like saying something he might regret, but it’ll get him killed. He wants to live… this whole time he’s been fighting for his life…and to throw it away so carelessly… “Understand?” Crocodile asks with a displeased look now on his face, not that Buggy knows why he’s looking at him like that.

Get rid of the annoying red nose.

This altercation marks the first (and last) time Buggy tells Crocodile to, “Eat shit and die.” and things go as well as one would expect them to as soon as the insult leaves his mouth. He really should have kept his big mouth shut, but he didn’t, and instantly ends up regretting his actions, like always.

Crocodile chases Buggy all around the island, face red and filled with rage as he screams every cuss word imaginable at Buggy, and Buggy runs away like he owes Crocodile money, which, coincidentally, he does. “I’msosorry,” He babbles out, and the phrase ‘I’m sorry’ has to be his favorite phrase considering how often he uses it these days, “I didn’t mean to…” Oh, who is he kidding? He met everything he said, but he doesn’t think he should get murdered for his words alone.

Buggy runs past a few of his beloved crew members: Cabaji, Mohji and Richie, and finally, Alvida, but no one seems interested in helping him out. They all watch as he runs by, looking confused, then horrified, then once realization finally sets in, they simply look the other way. Cowards! All of em are cowards, and they have absolutely no loyalty!  

Crocodile does end up capturing Buggy though, he’s incredibly stubborn and that is yet another thing that Buggy has come to find out about his new business partner. He also really hates being insulted, go figure, and ends up punching the shit out of Buggy’s poor face, again, leaving welts all over him as he so graciously reminds Buggy that he can gut him like a fish at any moment if he wanted to and that he’s lucky to be alive.

Buggy begs for mercy the entire time, but that only seems to anger Crocodile more and he calls him…What was it…? Oh, that’s right, he calls him ‘A worthless coward who should have never been made an emperor’, and then proceeds to tell him how much he hates him.

He makes Buggy feel so good about himself…haha…

They never come to an agreement, Crocodile just grows tired of kicking Buggy’s ass and leaves, and Buggy winds up filled with more hatred than before for Crocodile, picking himself and his teeth up off the ground after his beating, skull still throbbing from Crocodile’s wrath. Okay, maybe he deserved that ass-kicking, but he still thinks Crocodile went a little too far… Nevertheless, Buggy continues on with his day, now instructing some of his crew who are shipwrights to build Crocodile his stupid ship for stupid Cross Guild, hoping that for once his crew will do something half-assed and that the ship will end up sinking or capsizing when Crocodile (and hopefully only Crocodile.) is onboard.

((A/N: Redeeming this fucker (Crocodile) is going to be a BITCH. Trust in me and the process, we'll get to where we need to go though. Thanks for reading, i love you pookies~! ALSO P.S ...Think the next few chapters might have depressed Buggy sooo.. BUT TRUST IN THE PROCESS BABIES.))

[kotias]

Writers Guild Cock Fight - Do I wanna know?

This is a retaliation piece against @lauramoon1987 ! You have been warned, Laura!! 🫵🫵🫵🫵

For the smut war going on on @goodomensafterdark !

Song to listen to while reading: Do I Wanna Know? By Arctic Monkeys

Tumblr excerpt word count: 721

Total word count: 1 957

Trigger warnings: consumption of alcohol

Type of smut: angsty post-season 2

Have you got colour in your cheeks?

Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the tide

That sticks around like something in your teeth?

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

How many secrets can you keep?

'Cause there's this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow an' I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee

Alcohol. That’s what he was missing. He extracted himself from his chair and walked to his kitchen, where an infinite variety of beautiful liquors, wines, beers, distilled alcohols were displayed. He did not even bother taking a glass out of the pantry and drank directly from the whisky bottle.

It took him about an hour to down the entire bottle, scorching the inside of his throat.

Not enough.

He raided his kitchen again, and found his bottle of absinthe. That should do the trick…

The taste of it on his lips was already enough to feel submerged with a fire that very much agreed with his demon body, and he filled a glass to the rim with it before storing it away. He took a large gulp out, shivered from it overwhelming his senses and coughed out the discomfort.

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay

(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made

For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

He did not allow himself to think about the last memories he had collected before going to sleep, refused to let his mind wonder to the feeling of those soft, plump lips on his ow-

He finished his glass and threw it at a wall.

“Damn it!”

He did not want to think about it, it was too painful! Too fresh! Too- too- “FUCK!”

Those hands on his back, clutching at his vest like he was on a lifeline, the little gasp he let out, the conflict and storm of emotions in his eyes-

“FUCKING STOP IT!” he yelled, crashing into his couch. His mind was replaying it, again and again, never stopping, looping that memory until he was dizzy with it.

Soft lips, desperate gesture, clutching his lapel, hands on his back, gasp-

I forgive you.

“Oh, fuck you,” he grumbled at the universe at large after the second bottle of whisky had been downed, and let his body lie down.

Crawling back to you

The angel’s hand, clutching to his back for just a moment, the tip of his tongue pressing against his mouth, his wheezes as he touched him… the softness of his skin, the smell of old books surrounding him, the taste of sweet black tea in his breath-

Ever thought of calling when

You've had a few?

'Cause I always do

Maybe I'm too

Busy being yours

To fall for somebody new

Now, I've thought it through

“Actually, that ain’t that bad of an idea, is it?” Crowley mumbled with a weak crooked smile, his voice breaking in his throat. “I’ll give you something to forgive me over, Ô Supreme Archangel Aziraphale.” He put the bottle down on the lower table and reached down his stomach, grazing the fabric with his long nails. “You’d better hear my voice as I pray up to you.”

He closed his eyes and sighed as his cold fingers passed under his shirt and touched the line of crimson hairs coming up from his crotch.

Click. His snake belt fell open, the buttons of his slim jeans quickly followed. His left hand raised to his chest, pressed against it, forcing the air out of him in a soft growl. The tips of his fingers slithered under his collar, sending waves of scalding desire through his limbs.

Crawling back to you

The angel’s tongue pushing into his own, pulling him closer, hungry, hungry, so ravenous for him-

He moaned into the hollow of his mouth, his legs weakening under his love. Aziraphale’s lips, descending on his chin, on his throat, ripping his shirt open, and oh how mellow his voice was, rippling against his collarbone, penetrating his chest and pulling at his heart like it belonged to him.

Fic continuation on AO3

[kiwisandpearls]

Excerpt from Chapter 1

summary: this is just a small-ish excerpt from chapter one of my LMK fic named “The Lady Bone Demon’s Vessel”. This is a remake of my Wattpad fic of the same name

warnings: reader goes by they/them, some wording might be potentially different based on if it was changed it as it was uploaded to ao3, potential spoilers for LMK season 2, potential implications of reader having an existential crisis even though they were literally just born

The first thing you had ever felt in your existence was the cold. That’s all you knew for the first few bits of your life. That is until you started to hear quiet whispers all around you. These whispers were mostly unintelligible but every once and a while you’d pick up on a few words. Words such as, ‘Sun Wukong’, ‘Monkey King’, and ‘fulfill destiny’. 

The next thing you heard was a voice.

“…Aren’t they just wonderful?” The voice, although much more clearer than the whispers could’ve ever been, was still slightly muffled. Not only that, but for some reason…the voice sounded almost…familiar to you. How? This was the first time you had ever heard anyone talk. How could you already be familiar with such a voice?

“Of course they would be My Lady. It was only thanks to your cunning genius that you could create such a vessel!” Another voice answered the first voice. This one sounded different, more eager…but who was this ‘Lady’ the voice was referring to? Who was the ‘vessel’? Who were you?

.

.

.

Can I open my eyes? You thought. You wanted to finally use your sight, see something, anything. You wanted to see who those voices were coming from. It took some effort and willpower, but your eyes slowly but surely fluttered open. Your eyesight adjusted and you could finally see who those voices were coming from. In front of you were two people.

One person was a small girl, she had black hair, most of which ran down to her back while some of it was tied up with a blue bun holder. Not only that, but she wore blue eyeshadow and a *white top and a black skirt. The person next to her was clearly older, wearing a black suit with blue stripes and a blue shirt with a blue tie underneath. His hair, while relatively short, was black like the small girl’s with a streak of blue on both sides of it.

You tilted your head at the small girl, pondering, is she the ‘Lady’?

aaand that’s it for the excerpt. If you want to read the full chapter here’s a link to it on ao3. It should be available for those without an ao3 account to view, but if not let me know so I can see if I can change that.

just wanted to post this because 1) I wanna set a pattern for myself that when I have multi chapter fics like this on ao3, I have an excerpt of the fic on tumblr, and 2) I just wanted to let people know that doesn’t worry, I have not quietly abandoned this fic lol.