#i blame sky for this

[meatcatt]

Back in the days of the old faith gods had to survive on flesh and flesh alone. After the age of 24 they say the gods need to return to that way of life.

[daikunart]

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐢 | 𝐄𝐏𝟏𝟑

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Sunshine for the ask game? o:

"Depression? Nah, I don't have that, that would be silly, all I need is sunshine!" Wild cried happily with an exaggerated smile, hands over his heart.

"Wild, what the hell are you doing?" Twilight asked, completely bewildered.

"Rehearsing," Wild answered easily. "I'm pretending to be Sky for some dramatizations."

Sky shot Wild a withering glare from where he was sitting at the table.

[tac-bat]

"my soul, you really took my soul."

[hcdragonwrites]

Thunderstorm

(a @jttw-monkeybusiness inspired Drabble)

It was hot today and we have a thunderstorm warning so I wrote something really quick! Enjoy another one this one is short.

A heat wave.

It was the only way to describe the sudden shift in temperature from the last week of travel to now.

Sophie turned her head upward, blinking against the sweat rolling from her face. The last of her sunscreen had been used now, to prevent her skin from cracking beneath the sun's attention. The hat Wukong had snatched from a while back was the only protection she had against the hungry rays of light that drove knives of pain into her skin.

This is a miserable business. She could feel the beginnings of a burn on her arms, from where the sleeves of her tunic didn’t cover her wrists.

It was midday, the heat blistering against the companion's skin. Pigsy complained at every step, at every rock in the road, at every breath. He was drenched, his robes dark from his body perspiring. He waddled at the back of the group, bemoaning his pain to the point that even Sophie was beginning to feel it grate on her nerves. It wasn’t like the rest of them weren’t also suffering in this insufferable heat.

Sandy simply stayed quiet, the only sign of suffering beneath the heat was that the demon had emptied seven water skins- ones he had carried himself. Sandy was closer to Pigsy, getting the brunt of his complaints.

Wukong kept his discomfort silent from what Sophie could see except when he would pointedly look back at them from the head of the group, staring at Trip as if waiting for him to say something. When the monk just kept walking, Wukong would turn back around and look upward to the column of thunderclouds beyond.

The heat seemed to suck all the moisture from the world, sending it up into the dark clouds that were beginning to grow in the mountains ahead of the group. It was a day that promised burning warmth and teased the relief of a downpour. A storm born of the heat. At least it was a reprieve of sorts from yesterday's typical shenanigans of Tripataka being almost devoured for the seventeenth time. At least Sophie thought it was seventeen. Was it actually eighteen?

Sophie and Trip were both walking side by side in the middle of the group, leading Yulong behind. The poor dragon horses' sides were slick with sweat, the white fur turned brown with the road dust. Wukong was carrying the saddle, the great leather contraption held easily in one arm to give their silent companion some relief.

“The gods are punishing us.” Pigsy groaned, rolling his pack from shoulder to shoulder. “Maybe they are punishing us for the wanton murder Wukong had committed just a bit ago.”

Pigsy please… Sophie groaned silently, as she saw the Monkey King whip his head around, teeth bared.

“I didn’t see you helping any to save our master.” Wukong shot back. “The last I saw was you running away from that battle when you got cut by the centipede women!”

Sandy rubbed his face, just as annoyed that these two were picking now to start something.

“I thought I would die of poison!” Pigsy gallantly said, hand to the cloth bound scrap on his arm. “I did not want my fellow companions to have to protect me and save our dear Monk.”

“Centipede's poison only hurts insects and smaller beings. Not demons like you.” Wukong countered. He had paused at the head of the group to swing his gaze on the pig demon. “You just wanted an excuse to get back and have the first taste of the sake we grabbed from those merchants at the festival!”

“You know drinking is forbidden on our holy quest!” Pigsy tried to piously counter but Wukong cut him off with his words and a savage slash of his hand.

“DIDN'T STOP YOU FROM DOWNING TWO CASKS OF IT AND LEAVING US TO EXPLAIN TO THE MONASTERY WHY THEY HAD LESS SAKE!”

“Oh for Pete’s sake.” Sophie muttered quietly. She was too tired, too sticky with road dirt, to care much for the beginnings of this argument. And it was shaping to be a big one. Pigsy wanted to take out his discomfort on someone and it didn’t take much to get the Monkey Kings hackles up. Blaming him for the heat? That would rankle his pride.

Trip also looked between the two, face begging silently please not now.

“Stupid Monkey!” Spat Pigsy.

“Shitty Swine!” Snarled Wukong.

The storm clouds ahead cracked with thunder, the noise temporarily pausing the quarrel.

The monk took advantage of the pause.

“Let’s rest.” Tripataka called, wiping his own forehead free of the sweat clinging there. The monk's eyes looked just as relieved as Sophie felt at the excuse to both rest and to stop a full blown argument from starting again. This had been the third one today, and soon it would come to blows or to Tripitaka using the charm to put the Monkey King to heel.

If that could be avoided it would be in everyone’s favor to avoid it. Wukong usually sulked after such uses and he and Tripataka would get into their own argument.

Tripataka and Sophie both beelined for a small copse of trees, Yulong snorting in relief. They left their companions behind without a second thought, both of them tired and sweating. For all Pigsys complaining, he wasn’t being baked by the sun as badly as their mortal companions. Tripataka had a red patch of skin beginning to form on the back of his neck despite the protection of the hat. Sophie could feel the beginning of a blister at her heel. She hoped it wouldn’t burst.

The immortals only took a moment before they too joined the rest of their company beneath the trees. Sandy set to making tea, already propping a fire up faster then Sophie could follow with her eyes.

Pigsy simply just fell against a rock beneath the shade, complaining loudly, grousing about how hungry he was and how he had a pain in his back that may need looking at. No one paid him any heed.

Trip and Sophie dropped their packs in an unceremoniously heap. Tripataka pulled out a curry brush and passed a flat brush to Sophie who took it wordlessly and set to work.

The two humans had fallen into a habit of helping to strip down and tend to the dragon horse, both taking to brushing the flanks. When Sophie had first been asked by Trip, she had been eager and a bit apprehensive. She didn’t have much experience with horses (let alone shape shifted magical dragon ones) to be confident in this task. But Trip had smiled and taught her the basics of care- from brushing his coat to checking his hooves for rocks that could threaten lameness, and bring discomfort.

“You're a patient teacher Trip.” Sophie had said.

“Thank you. It was actually Wukong who taught me to tend to Yulong.” The horse had nipped fondly at the sleeve of the monk in thanks.

“Wukong?” That surprised her. “He knows about horses?”

“Before he rebelled against Heaven he had been given the position of Stablemaster. It was his duty and job to tend to the celestial beasts of Heaven. He showed me what to do to take care of Yulong.” Trip rubbed at the horse's poll, earning a happy snort from the dragon horse. “You should ask him about it! He has seen so many fabulous beasts in the Heavenly stables to rival any lord or Emperor of earth.”

Of course Sophie had. She had bothered and questioned and asked everything she could of the Monkey King about what the Heavenly court looked like, what beasts he had tended, how he had taken care of them, and much more. Wukong, if in a good mood and not acting aloof or having been reprimanded by his Master, was always willing to boast about himself. Of course that usually meant an exchange of sorts. Yesterday it had been for her to sit with him as he answered her questions, rifling through Sophie’s bag and asking questions of his own on what these were and insulting them- he particularly had taken to insulting her makeup which Sophie had, of course, taken the bait on. She had only realized it was a trap until after she was halfway through the reason why her brand of makeup and mascara was perfect and made her look and feel like a goddess that she saw that shit eating grin and had shoved at him.

Today she wouldn’t ask him her typical questions. She had something else she wanted to do.

Wukong brought the saddle up and set it at the base of the tree, tail flicking back and forth. He glared at Pigsy, opening his mouth to finish the argument when Trip, without having to look up, stopped him.

“Leave him Sun Wukong.” He ordered. There was patience still in the monks voice. “He means none of what he says.”

“He means all of it, Monk.” Wukong retorted. Sophie saw Pigsy look up and grin at them, egging the demon monkey on.

“Go.” Tripataka pointed away from Pigsy to another shaded patch. “Cool your temper and yourself. Let us have a moment of peace until we must embark into the heat again.”

The Monkey king sniffed and turned on his heel angrily, leaving Sophie and Trip to their task. As he walked past Pigsy he curled his middle finger up and away from the rest of his hand, flipping the pilgrim the bird.

Of course Pigsy didn’t understand what that statement meant. Yet.

Wukong had pestered and bugged her about the hand signal she had given when one particularly shitty day finally had gotten beneath Sophie’s skin and she had reacted silently. It had been an unusually rough day when finally, her headphones (may they rest in peace) had died in the middle of Gustav Holst Jupiter.

Sophie had at first pulled the headphones out in disbelief and then tried to pop them back in. Maybe they just need to reconnect. She tried them again. No use. Her music was finally gone. So she of course reacted silently and, with what she thought at the time, was appropriate. Sophie had regretted losing her temper that way and regretted even further to having caved to Wukongs questions.

Soon all of them would know what the middle finger meant and that may also lead to further arguments. Sophie could see Pigsy using it the most to get a rise from Wukong. For now, only the Monkey King knew. She hoped it stayed that way for as long as possible.

Or at least till we get out of this heat.

Between Sophie and Trip, they had Yulong brushed down, feet picked clean and a small bucket of water set before the great white stallion. Once his needs had been tended Sophie looked back up at the sky. The thunderstorm was tall and black, staining the blue sky wherever it crossed. A blessedly cooled breeze blew into her face carrying the scent of water and damp earth. She dragged her backpack a bit away from Trip who was meditating now, to a bit of shade a few lengths away from the rest of them where she could watch the storm unfurl.

Sophie would catch up on some reading, having been lucky enough to snag a book. It was a book of poetry by a scholar of the name Li Po, and whatever magic had cast her into the past had also given her an ability to understand and read the languages here too. A small blessing, that.

Sophie hadn’t had anything new to read in what felt like ages and was eager to crack open the little book and read its contents. She craved it.

She settled herself down, setting her backpack behind her and crossing her legs. As she crossed her legs, and turned to dig into her bag, she felt something heavily land in her Lap. She peeked down and beneath her arm.

Wukong stared up at her, face set in a scowl.

“Yes? Can I help you?” Well. This was new. Wukong would sit with her when they had time to silently rest during their travels. Usually it was side by side, usually it was Sophie joining the Sage to ask him questions. But- never him resting on her. That was new.

Wukongs head was resting squarely in her lap, arms crossed behind, shoulders on her legs.

“You aren’t going to ask me questions.” He didn’t say it like a question. More of a statement. He sounded glum.

“I was going to read this book I snagged in the last town we were in.” Sophie pulled it from her bag, showing him the simple black embossed cover. She was too tired to complain about Wukong not at least respecting her boundaries or asking permission before he settled himself on her person. If I brought it up he would just say he was a king and it was his right to any person's space. To keep peace, she wouldn’t voice her thoughts. The heat had made all of them tired and she would rather have a calm monkey resting in her lap than a monkey that would rise eagerly to argue. Even if said monkey had come uninvited.

Wukong wasn’t demanding anything of her - at least not yet. Which meant he was in a … better mood ? It was hard to tell. Some days she felt like she and the Monkey King were as thick as thieves, dodging demonic creatures, bandits and the like with an ease that was comforting in this strange world. Other days it was like walking around a scalded cat, Wukong picking and poking and snapping at things Sophie didn’t understand fully. He was a prickly monkey but …

She looked down and saw that his face, though set in his typical apathetic scowl, had none of the stormy look he usually wore when something was bothering him.

When he acted like this it made Sophie want to be his friend all the more.

Wukong pulled one of his hands free from behind his head and held up a hand, asking silently. Sophie passed him the book. The Monkey King squinted at the words, turning the book and it’s pages in his hand with a disinterested air.

“I guess that’s suitable.” He said and snapped it closed.

“Suitable?”

“To read aloud.” Wukong said, passing it back to her. He closed his eyes, breathing out as another cool breeze shook the tree leaves above them.

“We may have an hour or two before that storm will be upon us.” He lifted his chin up, gesturing at the storm.

“I don’t think you want your little book to get wet in that downpour so if you want to get a good deal into it, best to start sooner rather than later.”

“You want me to read aloud to you?”

Wukong opened one glowing eye and stared at her. “Yes. It will be a welcome change to that monkey stalker crap you have.”

“It’s not crap it’s science!”

“Sounds like crap to me.”

“If you want me to read to you, you better not call this book crap either or I will drop it on your nose.” Sophie threatened.

Wukong opened both his eyes to fix her with an upside down glare.

“You wouldn’t dare.” But there was a hint of a grin about his face, a tugging of humor to his lips.

Sophie kept his stare, unblinking.

“Watch me, monkey boy.”

She shook the book in threat. She would drop the book on his nose. Sophie had a suspicion that Wukong would then take that book and either chuck it away or keep it away from her.

Wukong grinned up and then closed his eyes again, tail curling up and onto his waist.

“I wouldn’t. It’s poetry. I want to hear what this pompous Li Po has to prattle about.” With that Wukong settled back into Sophie’s lap, getting comfortable.

Sophie felt a touch of affection for her friend, something that may have struck a different cord with her if this had been earlier in their relationship (and before Wukong had squashed that very early crush). Wukong may be an ass- pompous and self important himself- but he was genuine in a sense. He may dance around things that made him turn moody and broody but he really couldn’t hide that, despite being hot and cold at times to her, Sophie and Sun Wukong had a friendship. One born of arguments and teasing, questions and prodding. Maybe he had scared her into falling into a river. But he had stolen her clothes to replace the ones soaked. Maybe he had poor communication skills and liked to get her attention by kicking walls or suddenly jumping up in front of her or taking her things and holding them at ransom. But it was friendship. A friendship so very strange and bewildering at times that It confused Sophie as much as rewarded her.

The snap of thunder had her stare back up into the sky. The storm moved closer, already a sheet of rain visibly pouring down onto the mountains beyond. It would be a bit before it reached the pilgrims but it was making its steady way toward them all the same.

Sophie opened the book, flipping to the first poem. Quite appropriately it was about storms.

As the thunder rolled closer, promising a reprieve from the heat, Sophie felt a peace settle in as she read. Even as the sky broke apart before them, she felt a calm and grounding. She may be from another time, another place. Adrift she could have felt. Reading aloud she felt an anchor settle in her. She belonged. Even if it was only to a very angry stone monkey, she belonged.

[synthshenanigans]

I find it hilarious that like, most popular headcanons/ideas of HMS come from something that's in the actual album. Whether its the cover art or from a lyric, it makes sense with context or a metaphor. Then there's just a random ass chicken that came from nowhere.

[carlando]

normally wouldn’t complain about seeing carlos shirtless but i don’t know why sky continues to broadcast that when carlos has said he doesn’t like it and it makes him anxious

[bonebabbles]

What IS a redemption arc to these writers, exactly?

Because the ONLY thing that Clear Sky has changed about his behavior, by A Forest Divided, is that he's not actively murdering people. He's controlling. He's a bully. He's misconstruing the words of the StarClan cats to create a justification for why he should be in power.

He's even physically abusive again when he gets upset, later. And that's not even counting his sadistic, self-absorbed behavior in sequel books.

We keep getting passages like this;

Which keeps turning his murder and abuse into "Just A Little Mistake," explicitly PART OF LIVING.

Ghosts are tumbling out of the fucking heavens to powder his ass, forcing his mom to forgive him for absolutely nonsensical reasons, saying that killing Rainswept Flower was "predestined" and "just an accident" and he had no control over it, anyway(???). And now, here is the hollowed-out shell of Storm, who was driven out of the Clan while pregnant because Clear Sky's actions were getting innocent cats MAULED AND KILLED, insisting her abusive husband's behavior never drove anyone away and they just had their own paths to walk.

So what IS a redemption arc supposed to be to these writers?

If Clear Sky was NEVER actually that bad, in the 5 books we saw where he's a controlling, power-hungry monster who constantly resorts to physical violence, that what IS the change he needs to make? If it's both a mistake he's totally learned from, YET ALSO he's never done anything wrong??

Do you SEE how these are contradictory ideas? They can't exist together. It's like the writers are just grasping at whatever insane bullshit they can think up and throwing it on the page, because at the end of the day, what they do is write Fundamentally Good and Fundamentally Evil characters.

Because Clear Sky is one of their Fundamentally Good cats, he has nothing to confront. They try to say "the guilt is the worst punishment for him!" and also "He shouldn't feel guilty for anything he did!" and it leaves us with absolutely nothing.

[wolfasketch]

Wow...I've honestly never gotten above a hundred something notes on a post. New record!

Cute Sky and Raph art below!!

Sky helping Mutant Manhunt Raph get over his fear of cats and OG Raph giving kisses!

Honestly hesitated about posting the first cause I don't want people to think I'm trying to get likes and stuff by piggybacking off @baskeigh-ball's work/AU, I just love drawing this Raph and after reading the comic about his fear of cats, I got the feels!

[cozylittleartblog]

"woah i can't believe you've read blue sky!"

hoho. my dear followers. i have done more than read it. do you have any idea what you are dealing with.

[bonefall]

Honestly Falling Feather is a really interesting choice because now not only are the kits Thunder’s half-sisters, they’re also Lightning Cry and Acorn Swoop’s cousins. Also Pale Feather is just a really pretty name, not that Clear Sky would ever allow her to keep that name

I'm heavily leaning towards Falling Feather. She was also sweet to Thunder in-canon before being pretty brutally punished and publically humiliated for... (checks notes) saying goodbye to him too nicely.

Acorn Swoop: "sooo you said my auntie is the mom of your siblings?? What're my cousins like?"

Thunder Storm: (war flashbacks to Mean Girls shit)

I'm not sure if I'll keep Fall's death in the Great Battle or not, but it does sound pretty brutal for Tiger Sky to lose her twin AND her mom in the same battle her dad starts. And then he blames HER for them dying, actually, because Tiger Sky should have protected them and been stronger.

[unclescrunkle]

james potter is a satellite

[f1-birb]

and considering this is a track lando has never vibed with while it's literally oscar's favorite track and one he achieved a lot of success on in junior categories, i'm happy with this result versus a 2023 repeat. frostytill said on reddit jeddah is to oscar that imola is to lando and that's true. if we're expected to believe oscar is this generational talent, people have got stop reacting like this anytime he finishes in front of lando in any session. lando outqualified carlos in 2020, and their points h2h even went into the final race, yet nobody was calling carlos washed over less than .100 second 🤔

Jeddah to Oscar = Imola to Lando is so apt

saw someone use the word "dominated"

there was at most a tenth and a half between them across the 3 sessions, if we're getting specific: 0.150, 0.136 and 0.043....

Mercedes had a similar gap and more between them across the sessions, are they going to say George dominated Lewis?

this narrative is so fucking old and boring, it's a GOOD thing McLaren has two drivers who qualify well ffs

[zeb-z]

I dunno, and I haven't read the Ascendency novels to be clear, so I can’t speak of who he was before his exile - but maybe Thrawn accepting Grand Admiral for that shitshow on Batonn sealed his fate. Maybe he wasn't the one to pull the trigger, maybe he was appalled by the needless death - he still took the promotion, even if he didn't want it. The moment he took the rank plate was the moment the blood on his hands became insignificant in the grand scheme of things. The moment where all his intentions begin to be buried by his actions.

Everyone is all about how Thrawn isn't that bad of a guy - and honestly I do agree that his character is misunderstood more often than not - but he still did terrible things with the Empire. Turned a blind eye and condoned much more with silence.

Because the fall of Nightswan and Batonn may not have been his fault - but he accepted the stain when he took his promotion.

For all you try to keep things fair, it doesn't matter if you're working in a system that is instituted to be cruel. And while Thrawn had never claimed to be a good man, and had only joined ultimately for the protection of his own people, there's something to be said of this deterioration of morality. How he doesn't understand politics, but is still shaped by the dangerous and vindictive workings of Imperial political scene, forgoing honesty for station.

Pirates and smugglers turn to insurgents and rebels. Capture turns to execute. He kills to prove a point.

He develops for the worse. For all he shapes the Imperial Navy, it shapes him all the same. I dunno. Complex character and all o that. He’s no scum of the earth true evil, but he’s no shining star either.

[andsomedaykindness]

i won't lie i think it's very funny (in. in a sad way) if most of the chain are having a good time during lu. like, they're hanging out with these other guys who actually GET them in a way almost no one else can, and they don't have to do all the fighting by themselves for once, and they're eating great food all the time and so on. sure, some of them miss their families or homes or whatever, and obviously they sometimes get hurt and have bad experiences, but for the most part they're all chilling.

...and then there's sky. sky, who during the entire thing is absolutely haunted by the fact that all of these people have suffered so much because of him. pretty much all of them began their quests as children, and it was his fault. sky, who doesn't say a word about the curse to anyone, who keeps all his guilt and horror and self-loathing locked up tight inside his chest. every time someone alludes to a traumatic event-even when they're just making a joke-sky has to look away for a moment to compose himself. because that trauma was his fault, too. it only happened because he failed.

he loves the other links just as much as any of them do. he also sees them as his family. but he can only forget himself and actually have a good time briefly, because he'll see time's eye or wild's scars and suddenly remember that he was the one who doomed them all.

(and you would never guess how he's feeling, how he's constantly being crushed under the massive weight of his guilt. he's always sleeping or talking about sun or carving or playing his harp. he seems so peaceful, so happy. he suffers so much, but he suffers in silence. after all, he doesn't deserve to tell anyone how he feels. not when it's all his fault.)

[skygirlstars]

every time someone says “Anakin wouldn’t have turned to the dark side if Ahsoka hadn’t left the Order” an angel loses its wings