#jester's scripture

[noose-lion]

WIP Wednesday | Lego Monkie Kid | "Queen of all Mount Huaguo"

Wukong suddenly falls silent, stops and turns away, holding out his arms. The behavior is odd and Azure is perplexed at his brother’s sudden strangeness (strange even for the eccentric monkey). Wukong does not offer an explanation, simply continues standing like an oddly posed statue, only the tip of his tail daring to flick back and forth. The lion does not get a chance to inquire further before three blurs of pale fluff leap from the undergrowth, scaling the king like a tree to rest in his arms and against his chest. Monkeys. Younglings. They chitter and click urgently (sounds Azure has been told is actual language) before the biggest of them speaks in demonic common. “Grandpa sun, there's a tiger! We were playing with the queen's ducks and a tiger  came out of nowhere  and General Beng-” Azure, embarrassingly enough, does not quite catch the rest of what the child is saying, his mind catching on to a particular word. Queen? But didn't Wukong say that it was just an old folk song? That he didn't really have a wife? The conversation from that night was a bit foggy, Azure had indulged a fair bit in the peach wine Wukong proudly had served to them. He is brought back from his thoughts when the monkey king responds to whatever the youngling had said. “A tiger?” Wukong frowns, his brows furrow, and he soothingly cuddles the cubs closer to his chest. “What's a tiger doing this close to the Stone Mansion?” He is muttering to himself, leaning subconsciously into the little hands that begin to pat at his face. “We haven't had any this far in decades. Any tiger in sight of the mountain would know better. I personally saw to that. They wouldn't dare, unless- ” The king spins on his heel, the little monkeys clutched in his arms hooting gleefully at the speed. “Azure!” Despite himself the lion starts back not expecting the sudden shift in attention from his brother. “Uh.” He awkwardly fumbles over his words . “Yes?”

Haven’t posted a wip Wednesday day in awhile...

[noose-lion]

Wip Wednesday | "Spring Chicken, Winter Rooster" | Shadowpeach | Lego Monkie Kid

An alarm call from a troop near the beach sends him into near panic, tearing him away from bitter thoughts, and with a pained grunt Macaque drops into a shadow. He lands with a dull thud on the beach in a small cloud of sand. He blinks in the sunlight squinting at where Wukong stands posturing not five feet away from a very confused MK.  “Monkey King?” The responding snarl is low and rolling, the beach shakes. A warning that will most likely not be repeated. There is pressure in the air like that before a storm. Excited hoots sound from the trees, the monkeys reacting to their king's aggression.  MK takes an uneasy step back and the snarl drops to a quieter sound. “Uhhhh, okay Wukong, what is wrong with you?” If it were any other time or situation the kid's tone would have left Macaque on the ground laughing so hard he cracked a rib. As of now, sensitive ears pin back against his head in worry. “Kiddo,” he calls softly. MK's head perks to look at him, face screwing up with confusion. Macaque realizes his mistake when Wukong snaps his teeth and steps forward with a stomp making the whole beach shudder and spraying sand over the youngest demon.  The monkeys screech from the trees and MK takes a wary step back. Embers of fear begin to flare in his eyes, making Macaque feel sick with shame. The apprentice keeps his focus on his mentor, head down he whispers. “Macaque. What's going on?”  “It's well-” The moonshadow monkey pulls at his ears nervously looking away from the kid and mutters. “It's the Season. We- he's in rut.” MKs eyes bug from his head ridiculously (and once again, Macaque wishes it was literally any other situation because this kid is comedy gold). “What!” He hisses, teeth bared, head jerking up to look at the shade in shock.  MK pales and Macaque feels his stomach drop as Wukong's growl picks up again with greater ferocity. The ground trembling so hard hidden shells in the sand are sifted to the surface. The air shifts, impossibly heavier, and Macaque lunches forward, slipping in between the pseudo-brothers. He grabs Wukong's face and ignores MK's flabbergasted “what the fuck” at his back.

[noose-lion]

Hail and howdy Punks, fellow primates~

Cringe is dead, and I am but a fool.

Jester Gallows | 21 | AroAce | Heathen

I am a multifandom artist (and writer) with a current interest in Lego Monkie Kid. I'm also working on some webcomics, of which I can't wait to share with yall, so it'd be cool if yall stuck around. I post slow because I am both a full-time worker AND a student.

Don't be afraid to send in an ask!!! I'm always delighted to chat. I'm like an old person sitting on my porch. I can't promise I'll draw every request but I'd still love to receive them.

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Art: jesture drawing

Headcanons/analysis: jester thinks

Writing: jester's scripture

Personal: jesters privilege

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I have very strong moral beliefs surrounding human rights and the treatment of others. I tend to be very polite online because tone never translates correctly, but I'm going to be very blunt. FUCK OFF if you're a terf, nazi, pedophile, bigot, ableist, or any of the other sorry human beings I'm directing this at. I will not debate you. Fascists can eat my boot. All comments or other interactions of this nature will be met with mockery.

~Depiction ≠ Glorification~

~Consumption of fiction ≠ validation of reality~

~a different opinion ≠ an owed explanation~

Disclaimer: I occasionally post/reblog possibly triggering posts, I do my best to tag possible triggers. Alas, I am merely a fallible being and may miss something. Take care of yourself and tell me if you need anything specific tagged.

[noose-lion]

Imagine this.

You walk out of a store. There's a woman standing there with a baby stroller. She asks you for money in the softest most unthreatening voice. "Would you be a dear and spare a few bucks?"

You get your wallet out. You are about to hand the money over to her, she's blinking at you with large brown eyes lined with tears. You hear a shout. "Don't give him any money, the baby isn't real!!!"

A short ginger comes flying into frame. He kicks the the stroller like a soccer ball. It goes flying. What you thought was a real baby is a small garbage bag swaddled in a old blanket with a doll head glued to the top.

You put your money away.

The woman groans and throws down a wig. "Dammit Chuuya, you messed everything up!!!"

"Stop trying to scam people, you-"

You walk backwards back onto the store.

[noose-lion]

WIP Wednesday | ShadowPeach | "Spring Chicken, Winter Rooster"

*suggestive*

He spins on his heel and all but dives into the foliage. Normally he would have dropped into a shadow, but heats make shade travel an actual nightmare. Leaving him to flee like everyone else. Head ducked into his scarf his speedwalk breaks into a gentle lope (he was not sprinting while his uterus was shredding itself with barbed wire) and he promptly runs face first into a broad (unclothed) chest.

Fuck.

A low laugh rumbles from the pair of plump pecs Macaque is face planted into and he can feel his unglamoured ears fluttering at the sound. “Were you spying on me?” Wukong sounds ridiculously humored at such a prospect. He just knows a shit eating grin is consuming the king's face as confident hands slip down the demon's sides to grasp him by the hips.

“WHA- No!!!” Macaque frantically attempts to push himself away from the god, hands planting themselves on the bare chest of the other to leverage himself free. “Why would I be spying on your lame ass?!”

“Because,” the muscles of Wukong’s chest ripple under Macaque’s hands (and a part of him wants to die again). “You need something.”

And belatedly, Macaque begins to realize some things. One; Wukong is being incredibly handsy (in a way he hasn't been toward him in literal centuries). Two; his instinct to break the other wrists at such handsy-ness is curiously absent. And three; the king hasn't yelled at him yet. Has not even frowned.

Which is nice. Wrong, very wrong. But still...nice.

[noose-lion]

How’s spring chicken going?

OMG SORRY I MEANT TO ANSWER THIS WHEN I FIRST GOT IT BUT LIFE HATES ME AND I'M EASILY DISTRACTED

Anyway. I know I promised it months ago, but the smut ridden 2 to 3 thousand word one-shot fic I started with is now closer to 10 and will probably only get longer. The story just won't work any shorter. Also I've been working on a fic for a zine so that's taken some of my attention.

But hang in there it'll get finished. I'll give you a lil sneak peak below the cut.

And like that Wukong’s interest in rearranging Macaque’s guts has dissipated. The moonshadow monkey chitters indignantly, pulling at Wukong’s shoulders to get the bigger man to return to their debauchery, but the king simply bats away the attempts with unphased laughter.

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Macaque was too distracted to notice when a new presence had passed into the island's waters. He did not notice until Wukong shot up, large hands pushing Macaque firmly into the ground as he growled, “Someone is here.” The shade could not respond, simply panting as he blinks the fog of his heat away, ears twitching subconsciously to catch the heartbeat of the intruder. Wukong turns, squinting into the distance, the threatening rumble in chest sputtering to a stop. “Oh, it's MK.”

Macaque huffs and Wukong grins down at him as he straightens his bronze breastplate back into its proper place (the only piece of his attire that had been disheveled).

Oh well at least we weren't full on fucking it out on the ground yet. Macaque pulls his clothes back into order. Then freezes, the reality of it hitting him. Oh my god, I almost let that idiot just fuck me right here in the grass. Like, like some… animal.

Even just the thought of that has his insides clenching pleasantly, thighs twitching. Get it together, you are being pathetic.

Wukong has already started in the direction of where MK must be coming from, tail brushing the ground with quiet glee. Macaque bites back a whine at the retreating form. Because the king should be focused on nothing but getting his dick inside me as quickly and as thoroughly as possible.

Macaque drags both hands down his face, claws catching slightly on his skin.

[noose-lion]

For the word game: chirp, shrimp, or breeze?

Lmk | "Spring Chicken" | ShadowPeach

Wukong rumbles, pleased at the other's desperate chirps.

Biological shenanigans, and smut.

Bsd | "The Drug In You Is Me" | Soukoku

His gaze traces her face, watching enraptured as her eyes flutter behind their lids, and her hair sways rhythmically with the small breeze the nearby mini floor fan is creating.

Chuuya x Transfem!Dazai post Dead Apple smut.

[noose-lion]

WIP Wednesday Swapped Skk Au

Mori makes a show of looking around Fukuzawa's shoulder, as if his target wasn't already in plain sight. "Ah, Chuuya! I see you've done well." The last bit is punctuated by a pointed look at his pricey (way pricier than any detective's salary could afford) attire. Chuuya promptly ignores the slight, throwing his chin up with a cocky air he shoots back. "I've always done plenty well on my own." Mori hums, eyes narrowing in a way Chuuya has seen a multitude of times on a different face. "Well I guess your loyalty was always fickle." Fucking bullshit.  Chuuya grits his teeth. That's a lie and the mafia boss knows it. And by the subtle shift of Kouyou's sleeve and the sudden utter stillness in Hirotsu's stance they know it too. "My loyalty was never fickle, Mori." "Mori-san." Fukuzawa cuts in stealing back the mafioso's attention, the negotiation continues. Chuuya lets the words wash over him, trusting his companions to do their job. Instead he focuses on Mori and the way his gaze shifts, glancing quickly at the space behind the detectives, face going blank in a way that the redhead remembers as a sign of distaste. Something tickles at the back of Chuuya's awareness. He turns to look over his shoulder only to be met with the muzzle of a gun pressed into his cheek. Even before his ability is nullified, replaced by a great sweeping emptiness he's intimately familiar with, he knows exactly who it is. The negotiation continues on, everyone but Chuuya (and probably Mori) unaware of the executive in the shrubbery. "Dazai." The detective hisses out in mild shock, uneasy at such an inopportune reunion. Not yet, not yet, not yet- "Ah. So you do remember me." Is the whispered breathy response, the other's tone deceptively cheerful. He sounds fake, voice dripping with the falsely sweet consistency of cough syrup. It's the way Dazai talks to his enemies, a manner of speech he has never wielded against Chuuya. He had never needed too. The detective can't quite see his ex-partner, Dazai, making sure to stay just out of line of sight, a boundary enforced by his weapon.  He doesn't want me to be able to read him. As if clocking the thought Dazai presses the gun harder into his cheek with a 'tsk'. Chuuya tenses, fully aware of how vulnerable he is without his ability. "I remember." He hisses out quietly. The gun eases off his skin just a tad.