#sincerely terra

[awoogayanderes]

“sometimes you’re just hard to love,” you say, looking out into the night sky, with tears in your eyes, an argument pushed you over the edge.

he simply looks at you, despite the breath he was holding, he didn’t want to make your life harder than it was but he couldn’t help it.

“then leave, i’m not stopping you,” his mouth moves faster than his thoughts.

he sees the light leave your eyes as he says that, immediately regretting what he said, swallowing the dry spit in his mouth.

so you do as you’re told, you leave. ‘i’ll apologize in the morning, it’s fine’ your lover thinks to himself. he will never see you again.

OSAMU DAZAI | chuuya nakahara | XIAO | diluc | sanemi shinazugawa | eren yeager | levi ackerman | sasuke uchiha | ban

[alexsfavgirl]

REAL IN THE FLESH

➪ pairing : oliver quick x reader, implied relationship with felix catton and reader

➪ sypnosis : you didn’t have a lot of time to talk with oliver, but now you do, and it’s terrifying

➪ other notes : currently can’t write for bsd, but saltburn is currently my new obsession

the summer sun beams on both of you as you lay down on the green grass. oliver was sitting up next to you, gazing at his surroundings. “we haven’t gotten to talk much have we oliver ?” you ask him, you turn your head towards him. “suppose not,” the quiet boy says. “do you like it here ? in saltburn, i mean,” you say, attempting to form conversation.

“it’s lovely, better than home,” he simply says. home. home to oliver seemed monstrous, well from what felix had told you before. “where’s your home ?” oliver asks you. you hum, taken aback from the question. “not far, we have a nice house but i’ve always passed summers here in saltburn, since felix and i started dating,” you respond sighing.

“do you like it ?” he asks. you look at oliver through your sunglasses. “of course i do,” you say, almost scoffing. who wouldn’t like living in a mansion even if it were for a couple of months. “how long have you and felix been together ?” oliver asks. “since sophomore year in high school, well on and off but you know” you respond, liking the flow of the conversation.

felix had mentioned to oliver that you and him and been on and off because of…well felix’s cheating, not that he explicitly told you. but felix couldn’t seem to let you go, after every break, he’d manage to crawl back into your bed, saying that he was forever “your guy” and that all the rumors of him with other girls aren’t true.

“well there’s a reason why he keeps coming back to you,” oliver sighs. you snap your head towards him, “and why is that ?” you say. “you’re fucking beautiful, who wouldn’t want you back,” he says, words rolling off his tongue. you try not to be flustered, you really do. yet a smirk crawls onto your face. “felix would kill you~” you say in a singsong voice.

“you’re different from everyone else here,” oliver suddenly says. “am i ?” you ask, almost confused. “like you’re…you’re authentic,” he says and your breath hitches. “like you’re actually real in the flesh, why is that ?” oli continues. “my father wasn’t there and my mom barely made it through with her job,” you confess, and you realize it’s terrifying.

it’s terrifying that a man you barely knew, now had a glimpse of what your childhood was like. why did you tell him ? why did you tell him ? was it because oliver is kind, too kind for his own good ? you don’t know but suddenly your oversharing has made you uncomfortable.

“i um have to go, uh find felix, wanted to talk to him about something,” you clear your throat as you get up. “you know, he’s cheating on you, he constantly is,” oliver says as you start walking away. “i’m well aware,” you quietly say. and that’s when oliver realizes that you aren’t as stupid as he thought you initially were.

“be seeing you…ollie,” you say, walking towards the mansion that oliver one day would claim as his. a smile falls on his face, one that he had been holding in for a while. maybe you weren’t so useless after all, maybe one day he could fit into felix’s shoes. maybe you just gave him a reason to keep you along for the ride.

[ro-botany]

I've been thinking about why I've had such a big return to Kingdom Hearts as a fandom and a focus for me in recent months. I think honestly it comes down to just how sincere the series is.

A lot of the times, offline too but especially online, I'm drowning in a sea of irony. Next to nothing gets to be taken seriously. So much of what I say to people is taken as an invitation to start a comedy routine.

And maybe I'm off-base but from my perspective it feels like it's motivated by one part monkey-see-monkey-do, and one part fear. Nobody wants to be called cringe, nobody wants to risk being vulnerable and then getting laughed or shouted out of the room, so people use 1-to-3 layers of irony as armour against those kinds of social blows. Given the high percentage of the people in my social circles who are neurodivergent or queer (or both) in some way, I wouldn't be surprised if it's partially motivated by trauma too, given all the ways those things can make social situations more fraught or, when present in one's childhood, drastically increase one's chances of being bullied.

But it gets tiring. I get very tired of it.

I'm not perfect, I have made silly jokes or been a bit of a shithead when that maybe wasn't warranted, and I will in all likelihood do so again. But in general I try very hard to be a sincere person - and when everything sincere that I say gets an immediate chorus of sarcastic little jokes and insufferable pedantry as a response, it's not really funny anymore, it's just grating. Frankly, I just feel like I'm being laughed at.

And the shittiest part is that this has infiltrated storytelling too! So many TV shows and movies and games feel the need to be jokes all the fucking time. Every heartfelt or serious moment has to be defused by some corny one-liner; heaven forbid the audience feel something genuine for once. Stories will make fun of their own plots/characters as they unfold as though to pre-empt any criticism with "haha we know this is so dumb right", just the same as any person with baggage from childhood bullying making a clown of themselves to avoid being hurt. Except I'm pretty sure the writers just think this is good storytelling, for some reason.

It's just as grating when the story does it as when the people around me do it! Maybe even more so, because the entire reason I came to this art was to get an emotional experience out of it and it keeps cutting itself off! Like fuck! Don't you all get tired of this? Don't you sometimes want to put down the jokes and just talk??

And standing amidst all this is Kingdom Hearts. A series which has been a constant presence in my life for it's entire existence, and a series which has always, always, been sincere with me.

Kingdom Hearts knows it's corny and overcomplicated. It occasionally pokes fun at itself or lampshades something silly it does, and it's certainly not without comedy of its own. But it's not mean-spirited about it. It's not using crappy one-liners to defuse the emotional moments. It's telling it's silly, corny, fun, emotionally resonant stories with full earnestness.

It's refreshing. It's comforting. I keep coming back to it because it's something fun that knows what it wants to say and says it with its whole chest.

I have pretty major criticisms of the KH games, as individual experiences and as an overarching narrative. But there is so much good in it, and so much of what draws me back to it is that it gives me space to feel the emotions that it's story is weaving. I respect the hell out of Nomura and the other writers for never compromising on that.

[shinynx]

Kingdom hearts is so fucking good y'all it's wild how good it is considering the whole, final fantasy disney crossover thing it should not be good !!!!!! It is. And they keep making more of em. It's fucked

[lopmon1234]

VenomVamdemon: nnngh! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

[prettycalla]

|| ludere ||

Pairing: Caracalla/Reader

Summary: Caracalla is very used to getting what he wants. You prove difficult for him. (Prompt request)

Word Count: 2.6k

Tags and warnings: Reader is a little bratty, Caracalla secretly likes it, suggestive at the end but no smut, no use of Y/N.

Masterlist || Join the Taglist!

Caracalla is very much used to having anything and everything he desires handed to him with as little as a petulant wave of his hand.

The finest wines, the most luxurious of robes, animals from faraway lands, whatever his impulsive mind decides upon. It is his.

You, however, do not seem to follow Caracalla's lex terrae. How it drives him mad.

And yet, he cannot seem to stop himself from wanting more.

It has become a game of cat and mouse, and you, little mouse that you are, are always able to outwit him at every turn.

He is determined to catch you, no matter how long it takes. Caracalla might be impatient, but he is also very stubborn.

It is early morning, and you have been roused from sleep by your husband already earnestly vying for your affections. He pulls you into his arms, leaning in to kiss you. You tilt your head, and he catches your cheek instead.

A sullen little sigh escapes him.

"Wife, do not be cruel," he murmurs.

You cannot help yourself, even at such an early hour; he is so sweet in his fervour. As apology, you turn your head again, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw and down his neck. He gasps, but before he can reciprocate, you are already wriggling out of his grasp.

"My sweet boy, any more of this and you will be late," you say, feigning a tone of concern.

Caracalla is not to be deterred. He reaches for you again, and you take his hands in yours, pressing gentle kisses along his wrists.

"Your brother will wonder where you are, if you take too long," you continue.

"Let him," Caracalla retorts dismissively, freeing his hands from your hold.

You place your hands on his shoulders, in an attempt to keep him in place.

"But the Senate will be lost without your judgment," you insist. "They will not be able to manage without you."

He pauses, and you hide your smile. You have him.

“You are right,” he says with a heavy sigh.

You nod as he ducks forward to kiss you on the lips. You pull away soon after; a little too quickly for his liking, if his expression is anything to go by.

“I will miss you,” you tell him sadly with a little pout, and that is enough to appease him. For now, at least.

“I will miss you more,” he replies sincerely, as he reluctantly pulls away from you.

You watch him leave, sitting up to blow a little kiss to him before allowing yourself to fall back against the pillows once more. You cannot help but smile to yourself when you hear the groan that escapes him as he leaves to dress for the day.

To a mere bystander, it would look as though you have no love for your husband, but it is not so at all. It is not that you do not want him. On the contrary. You adore him, desire him more than anything in this world. But there is a darker side to your adoration. One that cannot help but tease him, make him wait and beg and squirm. It makes you want him all the more. How you adore the chase, because when he finally catches you - when you let him catch you - it is all the sweeter for it.

It is not long before Caracalla returns. He is now dressed, but not yet made-up. You have already risen and been assisted in dressing, now putting the finishing touches to your attire, when Caracalla all but throws himself into the chair that sits by his vanity table.

“You will assist me,” he tells you.

You cross the room to him, where his little pots of powders and creams are scattered haphazardly all across the table. He owns more than you do, you muse.

“Where is your usual attendant?” you ask, searching through the pots to find the right one.

“I tire of her. She does not have your gentle touch,” he replies.

His tone is shy, almost uncharacteristically so. You smile fondly at him. Finding his favoured pot of crushed red ochre and a brush, you gently tilt his head up.

“I will not disappoint,” you reassure him kindly.

“You never do,” he replies with such sincerity that your heart flutters against your ribcage.

There is a gentleness to your husband that is rarely seen, except by you. How privileged you are.

“Hold still for me,” you say, patting the brush into the powder and gently blowing away the excess.

He obeys as best he can. He has always been a fidgety thing, but you know how hard he is trying to be good for you.

You lightly stroke the brush across his cheeks, just enough to bring out the colour in his otherwise pale face. He has not closed his eyes; instead watching you with rapt attention as you work. Eventually he begins to fidget once more, lips dropping open as his breaths become shallower.

You do not have much time, you are quick to realise.

As if on cue, his hands wander to your hips, fingers curling into the fabric of your stola. You do not react, having been on the receiving end of his unruly affections many times before. You admire your work instead, gently tilting his head from side to side to ensure you have not painted him unevenly.

Satisfied, you turn your attention back to the table beside you. Not one to be ignored, Caracalla tightens his grip, fingertips leaving little indentations in the fabric. You hum to yourself, pretending you do not notice.

“Carissima,” he murmurs.

The little quiver in his voice is unmistakable.

“Hm? Whatever is the matter?” you ask nonchalantly, picking up and setting down each little pot in turn.

He swallows thickly. You cannot help the smile that touches your lips. How easily he falls prey to his own urges.

“Must we finish this now?” he asks.

You turn to look at him. The quiet desperation in his face makes him all the more beautiful, you think.

“My darling boy,” you coo, “You are the one who asked for my help, are you not?”

His fingers flex against your stola as he nods.

“Yes, but-” he starts, but falters.

You tilt your head to one side, smiling sweetly, almost pedantically at him.

“But what?” you prompt. “Tell me what ails you so.”

Caracalla squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment.

“You will kiss me,” he commands softly.

It is more akin to a plea. You do as he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He whines as you part. It is not what he wanted. You know that.

“Again,” he insists.

Gently, you reach down and pluck his hands from your dress, kissing each one in turn.

“You must not distract me, my darling,” you tell him, your tone almost apologetic. “Allow me to finish.”

Caracalla looks as though he is on the verge of tears. Reluctantly, he nods, and you place his hands in his lap. You give his thighs a quick squeeze before you straighten up again, revelling in the sharp gasp that passes his lips.

Pretending to have not heard him, you find the pot of colour he uses for his lips and the accompanying brush. You run your finger around the rim of the pot’s lid slowly, deciding whether or not if this is a good idea.

If Caracalla is difficult now, he will only become more so after this. You smile to yourself. It is a fun game, you must admit.

You position him once more, your hand beneath his chin. His own hand reaches for you for a brief moment, before he seems to think better of it.

“Open,” you command in a murmur, not at all missing how his pupils dilate at one little word.

He does as you ask, letting his lips part enough for you to paint them.

He has returned to fidgeting in his need for you, his rings clattering together as his fingers fret with the fabric of his robes.

You feign ignorance, focused on the task at hand. You press ever so slightly too hard at the corner of his mouth, and he gasps.

“Apologies, my darling,” you mutter. “Are you alright?”

He hums softly in reply.

“I am almost finished,” you say softly. “You have been so good for me.”

The tiniest whimper escapes him at your praise. You smile as you take a step back, admiring your work.

“Beautiful,” you tell him, and the natural blush that graces his features renders the powder useless by comparison.

You move to turn when he stops you, fingers tight around your wrist.

“Was there something else?” you ask innocently.

Caracalla looks up at you, wide-eyed and trembling. His painted lips part for a long moment, before he finally closes them with a little shake of his head.

“No,” he replies, his voice little more than a rasp. “Thank you.”

You place a soft kiss at the crown of his head, sidestepping his hands as he impulsively makes to grab for you again.

"I am afraid I must leave you now, my love," you tell him forlornly. "I have matters of my own that I must attend to, and the Senate will soon be fraught with worry over your absence."

Caracalla is fighting a losing battle with himself, you can tell by the distraught look in his eyes. He allows you to leave, and a small part of you feels remorseful for the teasing you have subjected him to.

But how worth it the end result always is, you remind yourself.

Dinner is a rather quiet affair that evening. You take your usual place at Caracalla's side, and he is quick to regale you with the events of his day. He does not tell you that he has missed you, but it is evident in how he speaks. How his hands linger close to you.

You return the favour in kind, fleeting touches across his skin and whispered words in his ear that cause gooseflesh to rise in their wake. It is not long before he is squirming.

How much further can you push him, you wonder.

You must take your time. Caracalla is easily flustered, but he is not one to be quiet about it. One wrong move, and he will have no qualms with exposing your little game to the entire room.

You continue as you are for a while, not daring to press too hard too soon. It is not long before the rustling of fabric catches your attention, and you glance under the table. Caracalla's leg is bouncing, as it is prone to doing when he is feeling overwrought.

Your hand drops to his thigh, in what you hope masquerades as a comforting touch. His eye catches yours as you do so, and you give him a warm smile, playing the role of adoring wife perfectly, as you always do. It is not hard after all, you do adore him so.

Your hand remains there for a while, and Caracalla eventually becomes distracted once more. Only when he lifts his cup of wine to his lips do you dare to take your little game another step. You let your hand slide up further, until it reaches the very top of his thigh, and squeeze.

Caracalla splutters into his cup, trying not to choke on his mouthful of wine. Geta turns his attention to him from across the table.

"Are you quite alright?" he asks.

"Oh, you poor thing," you say before Caracalla can answer, lifting your hand to gently rub his back. "You must have taken too much wine at once."

Caracalla turns to you then, bright gaze narrowing into a glare. You would be concerned, if it were not for the splotches of blush that have spread across his face. You give him an innocent smile, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, before deciding to give the poor man a break. For the rest of dinner, at least.

As you suspected, Caracalla's patience quickly wears thin with your incessant teasing. You are surprised that he has managed to last as long as he has.

It is late, and you have both retired for the evening, although sleep is far from Caracalla's mind. He has you settled in his lap on the bed, as you gently run your hands through his soft curls, his golden laurels long since abandoned. The lantern candles are beginning to burn low, and yet he has still to take what he wants from you. Like a wisp of incense smoke in the air, you always seem to evade his grasp.

“You are a siren, I am sure of it,” he murmurs, as you once again divert his hands from their path to your chest.

He whines, and you cannot stop the breathy laugh that escapes you.

“I am?” you ask. “I have no knowledge of this.”

“You lure me into your clutches with your sweet song, before sending me to my demise, again and again,” he continues, his hands changing direction to grip your hips.

You let out a little gasp at his touch.

“Surely you do not think so lowly of me,” you say, head tilting to one side, as if he has hurt your feelings.

“On the contrary,” he replies.

His fingers press deeper against your skin. He is sure to leave little bruises, and he seems pleased by this. He looks up at you then, eyes wide and full of awe.

“I think so highly of you that I cannot stand it.”

You trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips, nails gently scratching his skin. He lets out another whine, louder this time. Your smile widens.

“Kiss me,” he commands, one hand sliding up along your back to press you closer to him.

You lean back, just enough to make him work for what he wants. His hand begins to tremble slightly from exertion.

“I would love nothing more, but…”

You trail off, tracing little patterns across his chest with a sigh.

Caracalla huffs, his patience having entirely unravelled. It is a dangerous game you play.

“You will not deny me what I have asked for,” he says lowly, temper flaring.

You meet his gaze, your eyebrows raised in a look of sympathy.

“I do not recall that you asked,” you reply airily. “Rather, you made demands of me."

His eyes narrow at your words. You refuse to look away, instead leaning in until you are mere millimetres away from giving him what he wants.

“One little word, Caracalla,” you whisper, your breath ghosting against his lips. “That is all I ask of you.”

His eyes widen. The brilliant blue almost entirely swallowed up by his pupils, dilated now at your words.

How you wish you could laugh, but you dare not move.

Caracalla’s tongue darts out nervously to wet his lower lip.

"Please," he says in a choked breath.

"Please what?" you press in a teasing manner.

You cannot help yourself. To have him like this, so desperate, wanting, desirous of you - it is addictive.

Please, will you kiss me?" he asks in a soft, trembling voice.

You are quick to relent. You are only human after all, in spite of Caracalla's accusations. You kiss him, and all too quickly, he is pressing himself up against you and pushing you down onto your back. What little restraint he had left is now gone, his need for you entirely overwhelming his senses.

"You will drive me to ruin," he murmurs, as he leaves biting kisses along the length of your neck.

Only a sharp gasp escapes you in response; the urge to tease him has left you entirely. You want this as much as he does, and you will not deny yourself, or your poor husband, any longer.

It is not a loss on your part, as your robes are carelessly thrown to the floor; it is most certainly a victory for you both.

TAGLIST 💖: @glassbxttless @lover-rep-fanfic @punkrockmlchael

(banners by @ cafekitsune)

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know you made shorts for Sora, Riku, and Kairi, but do you have any other thoughts about Kingdom Hearts?

Ik this is kinda vauge and you get these kind of asks all the goddamn time, but I hyperfixated on those games for most of elementary and middle school and its always cool to see your favorite Youtuber talk about stuff you really like. Not to guilt trip you into answering this one or anything, just. . . I'm very tired and it would be very cool lol.

Again, saving my character design thoughts for some more shorts, but I adore Kingdom Hearts. Like, the first game really ISN'T much more than a cross-promotional branding exercise for Disney and Square, same as any of a dozen other similar crossover centric franchises; it's a Saturday morning cartoon show that wants to get you invested (or keep you invested) in a bunch of fancy IPs to buy toys of, but it's a really good one of those.

And it's a game that understands that the central thing that's going to hook people IN to that kind of thing is characters that are willing to believe in what they've got going on with one thousand percent sincerity. Which I think is the thing they nailed more than anything. Sora cares SO MUCH, and he wants to find his friend and his love interest (Kairi and Riku, respectively) SO BADLY, you can't help but root for the poor kid and want to believe in it.

Then, with the first game successfully managing to hook a solid fanbase, the creative team went "hey what if we had even MORE extremely earnest cool anime people getting deep in their feelings?" and now we're off to the races with Organizations and Oblivion Castles and fractions of 358 days.

And the thing that makes all the hyper-convoluted wheels-within-wheels plot machination nonsense WORK is that down, deep down, right at the core of what the franchise is always trying to say, is that love will save us. Yeah yeah hearts and darkness and unversed and nobodies and keyblades and blah blah blah (to be clear: I adore all that nonsense), but all of it is top-to-bottom in service of that singular central thematic clarion call.

Love will save us.

What holds Ventus together after Xehanort tears his heart apart? The love of Sora. What keeps Roxas the nobody from fading into Sora? The love of Xion and Axel, and Hayner, Pence and Olette. What brings Xion back? The love of Axel and Roxas. Hearts ring together and resonate and bind themselves to each other and there is no darkness so deep, no tragedy so absolute, no villain so foul that the cry of a loving heart cannot defeat it.

Roxas is a nobody doomed to darkness? Fuck you, Kingdom Hearts is love, no he isn't. Xion is a mere replica puppet, a failed experiment that nobody will remember? >>EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER<< get seasalt icecream'd on top of a clock tower at sunset, IDIOT.

Over and over again characters sink into despair and loneliness, they fear that their connections are fake or fading, they fear being forgotten or left behind (Riku in the first game, the breaking of Ventus, Aqua and Terra, Roxas thinking nobody would miss him, Aqua in the Realm of Darkness), and over and over again they are proven beautifully wrong. There is always a hand reaching out, there is always someone who will miss you. Love will save us.

And this absolutely gets hokey, of course it does, it's a saturday morning children's cartoon. It's a bit simplistic, maybe a bit naïve, but honestly in a world where you can't walk two steps without bleak-minded doomer cynicism forcing the assumption that nothing truly good is possible and that the worst will always happen, Kingdom Hearts is a story so absolutely drenched in hope, sincerely held, that it feels like a fucking balm.

Also, LITERALLY where the fuck else are you going to get Woody from Toy Story reading an edgy anime villain for absolute filth? Nowhere, that's where. ONLY Kingdom Hearts.

None of this is to suggest I don't have criticisms of the franchise or that it's faultless. I could talk for several hours unbroken about all my gripes and problems, chief among which is LET KAIRI DO THINGS OH MY FUCKING GOD the franchise is low key misogynistic towards its female characters sometimes but I am talking about the things I love here let me just be happy for a second.

[yoroshiu]

Pairs of Light and Dark in Kingdom Hearts intrigue me.

Hoder and Baldr, despite clearly caring for each other, weren't able to see eye-to-eye and turned their keyblades on each other. Hoder was Baldr's light—she dies and he falls apart with no proper support. She tries to reach out to him, him to her, but their beliefs stood too strong for them to fully commit. At the very least, their story ends with a shared grave.

Eraqus and Xehanort also are a duo whose beliefs pushed them apart, and yet the former couldn't help but give Xehanort more chances. Unfortunately, not fully commiting to one or the other, despite his ideals making him so rigid, not only leads to his own death but his students suffering greatly. And Xehanort takes advatange of that dichotomy in Eraqus. By the end, they realize that they've both failed. A shared grave of sorts.

Ventus and Vanitas are the most literal pair of Light and Dark. They're a back and forth of "me and you, you and me, us, we, me, I alone". They're put together, they're torn apart, they try to destroy each other, they make up for each other's weaknesses, they're the same person, they're not, they're siblings, they're every single thing. Vanitas disappears in the end, resolute in his way of life despite Ventus and Sora's outstretched hands, but did he truly disappear? Darkness is as natural a force as Light is.

Aqua and Terra somewhat echo Hoder and Baldr and Eraqus and Xehanort to an extent. Terra the Baldr and Xehanort, Aqua the Hoder and Eraqus. Terra is more prone to darkness in a system that rejects such things. This makes him a target to Xehanort and it results in a degree of separation. Aqua has her doubts and Terra was upset he couldn't be trusted. What makes the difference is that Aqua, in the end, chooses to believe in him and that Terra reciprocates with his own sincerity. While they are too late to fix the damage initially, their willpower leads to the light at the end of the tunnel. Three instead of none. Both are a blend of Light and Dark at this point.

Sora and Riku are interesting. What starts as Sora being the light and Riku being the darkness, ends up being a journey full of all kinds of twists and turns. Light to dark, a journey to the dawn, unaddressed sorrow and rage. These two were already in a whirlpool from the get-go. Riku, falling to the darkness, finds the light and chooses to walk the middle. He can utilize both, he can be both. Sora is the same, but as the journey continues, we'll see how he currently feels about that. As it turns out, these two can switch between being the light and darkness. But what makes these two different is that they also never give up on each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Making Kingdom Hearts Stuff Until KH4 Comes Out (Day 132)

[egrets-not-regrets]

Sea Urchin

Oleandros shares his bounty of sea urchins with his Mama Lenora.

Author's Notes: One more before the month is out! This time Olly spends a bit of time with his adopted harpy mom. I decided to write a few fics for Mermay 2025 in Of Fin and Feathers AU based on @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan's Mermay list. Thanks Susan for letting me use your list and Olly!

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog , @bispecsual , @c-u-c-koo-4-40k , @ms--lobotomy , @legionsofthehungry

@gra93fruit-blog , @i-am-a-dragon34 , @felinisnoctis, @thevoidscreams, @yurihasurunbara

@cruelmeltryllis , @insanity6666, @anothermeforcompany

“Hello Mama.” Oleandros greeted Lenora  when she returned to the home nest. 

“Hi Olly! How was your urchin harvest today?” She asked her adopted fledgling. Oleandros, or Olly as she typically called him, was Catius’ brother from the same squad. He was larger than Catius, with bicolored eyes, one silver and one blue. Olly was not always the most socially aware and had a preference for eating rocks, but was candid and sincere in things that he said and did, which endeared him to her. 

The young mer’s eyes brightened, “My urchin harvest went very well! I found a variety of urchin species! It’s mostly green sea urchins, but there were some common, a few purple urchins, and…” he pulled out a few oddly shaped sea urchins, “some heart urchins or sea potatoes as some humans call them!” 

Oleandros places the urchins in organized piles on the stone table. loved learning and was very knowledgeable on all sorts of things, which made him very handy when it came to identifying and harvesting certain food or medicinal items. This time, he helped Amelia to collect sea urchins, some for food, and some to be used and ingredients for medicine. 

“Amelia sends her regards and some healing potions too.” he added, pulling out a small box of healing potions of various types. 

Lenora’s eyes crinkled as she smiled, “Wonderful. Thank you for doing this Olly.” 

The Ultramarine scoutling smiled back, “You’re welcome, Mama.” Olly never minded doing small tasks like these. It gave him an excuse to explore a bit and learn more about the organisms and the science of Ancient Terra’s oceans. Plus his Mama and his gannet harpy family always treated him and his brothers kindly, he didn’t mind returning the kindness. They would listen to him talk about the neat things he found during his travels, which particularly delighted his younger gannet cousins. Also his, Mama saved him some of the deep sea crab shell, which had such excellent crunch, Olly felt he should repay the favour.

He took an urchin and cut it open using his knife then handed it to his adopted harpy mother, “Here’s a green urchin. These ones are good to eat.”

Lenora took the urchin, emptied it of seawater and scraped out the innards with a claw. She hummed appreciatively and then asked, “You are right! This is very good! How about you, Olly? Which ones do you like?”

The Primaris mer bit into his sea urchin like an apple and chewed thoughtfully, “The green urchins are delicious, but I prefer the purple urchins. Their exoskeleton has better crunch.”

[sunnylovesgirlythings]

“Why would winx club even introduce characters of colour if they were just going to whitewash them later?”

Typically? It’s because it’s because a company will introduce them during a wave of increased people pushing for diversity to capitalise on it. But it was never sincere so the second they think that wave has passed they’ll try to slide back to their internal status quo.

This IS what ultimately happened to winx club. The prototype was an all white cast but they caught wind of other shows starting to be more diverse so upped the diversity for the final cast.

The second they thought people didn’t care anymore? They tried to slide them all white. As much as they felt they could.

This is also why flora’s looong history of whitewashing mostly begun after aisha was introduced.

Because prior to that she was the darker skinned girl of the cast. Thus was marketed as that. Her early toys sometimes outright making her a bit darker. Not by much but noticeable.

But she was also incredibly popular. She’s the pink one it was bound to happen. That mixed with Aisha being introduced who was the new “darkest winx” they likely thought they could now slide her lighter to try and up sales even more with little uproar. Which worked. For a bit too long tbh. Surprised it took so long for the general audiences to notice.

Until they overshot it. Publicly.

In the overly edgy live action remake Fate they initially tried to straight up cast a white girl to play flora. Because at this point they’d whitewashed her so much I think they’d even convinced themselves she was actually supposed to be white.

Only to (finally) get a LOT of public backlash. Like I don’t think people discuss how much of a low-key big deal it was that people outside the fandom were pissed about this too.

Fandoms are for all their growth in the last few years? Still a social niche. So our complaints mostly fell on deaf ears. But people who hadn’t watched winx since they were five were complaining about this. People who had never watched winx. There were articles and news reports about it.

It’s was the general audiences who were complaining now. And that really freaked rainbow out. They weren’t expecting it.

So they had the role set for the white actress cast changed for her to be floras cousin Terra instead and introduced flora NEXT season. This time casting an actual Latina actress. Pretending thinly that it was all intentional from the start. But people knew.

More eyes are on rainbow now more than ever about this.

This has since sorta scared them out of going as hard on the whitewashing of flora (and by proxy Aisha. Who was cast correctly in Fate but has herself suffered whitewashing in the past)

Floras reboot skintone has been presented inconsistently thus far due to rainbows insistence on using incomplete test footage as promotional material. So I won’t comment on it (yet.) but rainbow has definitely noticeably been going out of their way to reinforce that flora regardless of what skintone sticks is not white.

Reboot flora being given a much thicker and noticeable accent than she’s had in previous iterations. Rainbow over the years has made floras actresses settle for a high pitched but soft voice with a slight hippyish accent.

But not now. Her vocal tone is lower and her accent is thicker. Rolling the R in her name when introducing herself. Which honestly fits her better than what rainbows previously pushed for.

This is absolutely a reaction to the fate screw up. They didn’t give two hoots about people perceiving flora as white when it was just the fandom reacting. But now post Fate they very much do care. More than they ever have.

So flora and Aisha are safer than previously. They’re scared to loudly screw up again.

But sadly with companies like rainbow? That just means the target has shifted.

Let me ask a genuine question to end this post.

This is musa in her two latest iterations.

Musa is an Asian character who has often leaned mostly into Chinese imagery when it comes to her home and style.

Do either of these girls look Chinese to you?

[awoogayanderes]

he hates you. he hates how you dress. he hates how stupid your face looks and how you smile.

he especially hates how you smile when he gifts you something. it irks him incredibly.

even when he rips a dandelion from the grass next to you guys, you smile brightly.

but he also hates when you smile at others, wasn’t your stupid smile reserved for him ?

maybe that’s why he always tries to one up everyone around you, though he’ll deny it.

but when you’re not looking, he stares at you, it’s a bit creepy, but who’s going to tell him ?

AKUTAGAWA | chuuya | feitan | sanemi | TSUKISHIMA | sakusa | alhaitham | wanderer ( scaramouche ) | your fav <3

[alexsfavgirl]

WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE

➪ pairing : oliver quick x reader, implied relationship with felix catton and reader but um he’s dead

➪ sypnosis : oliver “comforts” you in the bathtub after the death of your boyfriend

➪ other notes : i have so many things running in my head rn it’s absolutely insane, WHY IS SALTBURN OUT OF ALL MOVIES ENCOURAGING ME TO WRITE.

you quietly hum to yourself in felix’s bathtub. you think it’s because it’s the only thing of his that wasn’t just stripped away. you’d lie in his bed but the maids change the bedsheets everyday, they don’t feel like felix anymore. but his bathtub, it’s something more sacred, well at least in your watery eyes right now.

it doesn’t shock you to see oliver walking into the bathroom, it was shared of course. you turn your head to him, a light frown on your face. “sorry…” oliver quietly says and yet doesn’t leave the bathroom. “are you okay ?” he asks when you don’t say anything. “i saw my boyfriend’s carcass a day ago,” you say.

oliver shuffles his feet slowly towards the bathtub, crouching down to your height, his bright blue eyes stare into yours, his expression blank. “we were supposed to get married,” you say, pushing your wet hair back, away from your face. “i miss him,” oliver says. you can help but seethe at him. “you didn’t even know him.”

there’s a few moments of silence. “…maybe, but he still changed my life,” oliver says. you quietly scoff, a light smile on your face. “that’s felix for you, kind, too fucking kind,” you say, splashing the bubbles in the bath. and that’s when you start to cry again, you used to have baths with felix when both of you were too tired to actually have sex, it was a sensual alternative.

so in this vulnerable moment, you ask oliver a question that has been on your mind. “why are you still here ?” oliver tilts his head, “i can’t leave you here to suffer,” he says. “that’s not what i mean, and you know that,” oliver still doesn’t say anything. “why are you still here,” you repeat your question again.

“why are you still alive, and he isn’t, when you both drank the same booze, from the same bottle,” you say, now exasperated with watery eyes. oliver’s gaze falter for such a split second, and even then, you couldn’t see through your glassy eyes. “are you drunk ?” he suddenly asks. you can’t help but let out a scoff, “i had a single glass of wine,” you say rubbing your face.

and in a fit of your cries, oliver reacts. he takes off his shirt and then his trousers. you furrow your eyebrows, in shock. he lowers his boxers and you let out an audible gasp and cover your eyes like a child. in a sudden swift movement, oliver pushes your body forward in the bathtub, slotting himself behind you.

“what the hell are you doing ?” you ask, now panicking. “what felix would do if he saw you like this,” oliver says, wrapping an arm over your midriff. “but you’re not felix, you and felix are so different,” you say. he shushes you like a child. “just calm down, just relax,” oliver says. and you do, just for a few moments, you forget about felix, you forget about the rotting feeling.

[bbrokenbback]

I guess it`s somehow an addition to the previous post with crazy pairings, but this time it`s not about dices deciding on our future but me. So, I present you the worst and the best questionable pairings from Warhammer 30k. The position of the character in the *name*/*name* thing is important.

Sanguinius/Rogal Dorn and NOT the other way around.

Sanguinius, just as Vulkan, can be paired with anyone if you`re brave enough, but I think he looks the best with that Imperial Fist in his ass. The Siege of Terra is the basis of their relationship because nothing attracts people to each other better than shared suffering and the same tragedy.

Sanguinius is the soldier who`s general doesn`t want to let him go to the field because he values him too much personally. But he still goes, yet, as he was asked from the general, never says “goodbye”. And Rogal is dying inside while trying to keep track of everything that is going on in and out of the Palace, receiving special reports about the Angel`s wellbeing. He just cares about him too much, and, since he technically has the right to prevent Sanguinius from throwing himself out only to be eaten by a bunch of heretics, he uses it quite often. Even if it doesn`t stop the Angel at all.

The hawk boy is just happy to come back to someone who waits for him from the battlefield.

I sincerely believe that the future in which there`s only war we desperately need some angsty fluff, and those two make the best of it.

2. Vulkan/Ferrus, for the balance of universe.

The previous couple was all about softness and fluff, about how feelings bloom in people in spite of the Great War. But these too exist only because they match.

They are both from death worlds, and both Medusa and Nocturne, if I remember it correctly, are not actually considered to be death worlds, but they are. It`s probably because Vulcan didn’t want to send people away from their homes and Ferrus was just to lazy to apply for the status of his homeworld.

Ferrus also needs someone who`d kick his ass, and there was a scene in canon that showed how desperately he wanted to fight with Vulkan in his special training cage for strong opponents, but Vulkan refused. Probably because he knew too well that Ferrus` pride would not hold against the reality in which he`s not the perfect one.

But I think eventually he would agree, after Ferrus made him a little too frustrated with his demeanor. He`d brutally beat him and then calmly explain to him why it`s so important to be polite and respectful to people.

Fulgrim also does not deserve Ferrus so let the forge boys stay together please.

3. Roboute Guilliman/Perturabo

That`s pretty simple actually. I don`t remember who exactly said it here, but Roboute is just Forrix with no spice, and Perturabo, being Greek, probably hates spicy food. Roboute has a thing for fixing everything around him, and Perturabo desperately needs someone who would fix him.

Or they can become worse together, it depends on how you look at the couple.

They both are also two representatives of high-functioning depression, but Roboute is someone who tries to hide his condition by throwing off formal parties and dressing in colorful clothes, while Perturabo shows it off, bearing his burden proudly in front of everyone (it makes everyone uncomfortable). They have incredibly similar personalities if you look closer, their perfectionism, their intelligent sarcasm and their intelligence and education in general.

Also, Roboute is not that calm and collected as he is usually shown. He`s got a short temper just like Perturabo, his rage rises in a matter of seconds. He just knows how to control it and most of the time does not allow his frustration to affect his actions. Unlike Perturabo.

They make a great team in work and for both of them this fact is very important. Roboute likes to plan everything, Perturabo likes to follow plans. Perturabo is a tactician and Roboute is a strategist. Roboute is the sword and Perturabo is the shield.

I can see them having a noble slow burn with lots of long conversations about philosophy, art and history, during which Perturabo finally gets to talk about the things he actually like and Roboute gets to know the man behind the armor. They fall for each other slowly but surely.

And Roboute can keep Perturabo loyal, not to the Imperium, but to himself.

4. Mortarion/Lorgar Aurelian

This might be the strangest pairing so far but don`t worry it`s the last of them. I`ve already mentioned that to me there`s no greater basis for the relationship than shared suffering and I want to add hate to everyone around the couple to it.

Mortarion is a gentle soul. He has a tough personality, but he`s soft in hearts, so he protects them at all costs. And Lorgar knows too well how to treat gentle souls properly.

Aurelian probably sees Mortarion as his own younger self, treating him like he would like to be treated in his past. He listens to him, allows him to rant about the grudge he holds against the Emperor and simply gives him the much needed understanding.

They have a few similarities in their pasts too, they both were raised by some freaks and that traumatized them. They could discuss and treat each other`s daddy issues. It`s like mutual masturbation but it starts with their minds.

Speaking of mind, Aurelian is a psyker and Mortarion is allergic to it. But with time he could see that there`s no monster behind those powers, and although he`d still prefer Lorgar without them, he can tolerate it.

I hope one day they will team up, kick their first captains` asses and have their happy ever after.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Replica (Part 1)

Summary: A serf attracts the attention of Perturabo, unaware that she looks exactly like his deceased sister Callifone.

Perturabo/fem!Reader

Warnings: incest (kinda? it's not his sister but she's her copy)

Word count: 1022

This is my first work on Tumblr. I haven't written anything for a long time but I hope that next time it will be better. English is not my mother tongue. So hope that everything will be more or less readable.

Song: Mitski - Washing Machine Heart

“Almost all of my assistants died as a result of one... incident. So we are definitely lucky to have found you among this herd."

You could only purse your lips at that statement. Lucky. In a sense, this was true. Almost all the slaves were immediately sent to hard labor, where only death awaited them. But one of the primarch’s sincere serfs was just looking for a literate slave. So you haven’t really had time to experience all the horrors of a new life before you got a chance to survive yourself.

Still, you continued to think. Why did the Iron Warriors attack a loyal world of the Imperium? If you broke the law, Rogal Dorn would always find out about it and reveal the villains. But like a bolt from the blue, Iron Blood appeared and the assault began. All who miraculously survived were sent into slavery. Almost all the people were from the lowest classes, and only you, the local chronicler, somehow miraculously found your way among this whole crowd.

Your mentor said that lord Perurabo didn’t tolerate illiteracy and ignorance. He didn't want to see such people. That’s why the serfs of the primarch had to do more than just monitor the library. But also carry out other tasks that regular servitors could do.

That's how you start cleaning the primarch’s room. You, three other servants and your mentor briskly huddled around your duties in the hope of not bumping into lord Perturabo. But fate decreed otherwise, and after a couple of minutes the door opened.

“Lord Perturabo,” the mentor spoke by mail, bowing before the primarch. You and the slaves stood near the wall, humbly lowering your head. - “I apologize for disturbing your presence.”

He didn't answer. He didn't even move. Several minutes passed, but he continued to stand in the doorway. Your mouth started to dry. You tried your best not to fidget, so as not to bring down the primarch's wrath. But you still couldn’t shake the strange feeling, as if he...

looked straight at you.

You so wanted to close your eyes and leave this room as quickly as possible. But you could only wait for his order. Goosebumps ran through body. The tension grows. Even your brave mentor became worried. It was immediately clear that such behavior was not characteristic of Perturabo.

“Out.”

A relieved groan almost escaped your lips. It was unbearable to be in this place. Almost suffocating. You hurried after the slaves, continuing to look at the floor. You were almost over the threshold when you were stopped by a huge hand on your shoulder. No. Why? It was your first day. You almost believed that you could adapt to your new life. Maybe it would be better if you died under the rubble. And you never ended up on the Iron Blood.

"Except you".

You almost heard the serfs' thoughts. How they feel sorry for you and how glad they are that they are not in your place. You were still standing when the door closed behind the last serf, and the primarch sat down at his desk, turning his back to you. He didn’t touch the blueprints, instead staring at the table and clenching his fists tightly... as if he was holding himself back from anger.

Startled, you decided to go back to cleaning without waiting for his order. In the end, you managed to overcome your fear, and you were even able to relax. If a mentor were here, he would definitely scold you. But you cannot do your job quickly and efficiently. How could you ignore all these things?

A model of an amphitheater, the structure of Ancient Terra, an unusually shaped clock, puzzles. Never in your life have you seen more skillful work. But most of all, you stayed close to the golden birdcage. It was made so exquisitely and with such love that you kept wiping the non-existent dust off the table. You even saw images of birds and flowers on the bars.

"Like it?"

You shuddered involuntarily when you heard the primarch’s voice. Turning around, you were surprised to see Perturabo. He was still sitting with his back to you, turning his face just a little, as if he didn’t want to see your whole. His eyes shone with curiosity and wariness. He still didn’t touch the drawings.

“Y-yes, very much.” - you whispered, holding the rag to your chest. The primarch continued to glare at you, and you decided to continue the conversation. - “But why is it empty?”

"What is your name?" - Perturabo ignored your question. Confused, you almost whispered your name. Perturabo's face smoothed out slightly. - “Were your ancestors from Olympia?”

You shrugged in confusion. How were you supposed to know? Your family was not poor, but you did not wallow in money. You did not keep records of your family as you did. Perturabo continued to ask you the most common questions. Who you were before becoming serf. As if he was trying to know something that you didn’t understand.

You thought that talking to such an insignificant person like you only disappoints the primarch. But he only relaxed more and more. But when you said that you only have two brothers, he winced. Finally, he turned his gaze to the drawing. Before you could return to work, he suddenly looked at you. There was something in his gaze. You couldn't say exactly what it was.

"Do you wanna take a look?"

Your lips parted in surprise. When you boarded the Iron Blood, you thought your life was over. That you will never see your home world again and will forever be locked in this terrifying place. But here you stand before a primarch who strikes fear and worship into the hearts of humans. And he asks you, YOU, if you want to see his work.

“I'd love to.” - you nodded, holding back your excitement and unrest. You were really curious to know what Lord Perturabo was working on. Perhaps it was your imagination, but a shadow of a smile flashed across the primarch’s face.

Maybe he'll even let you come home.

[salvatoreren]

i cannot actually get over how scrumptious and delightful bbrae is in the 2003 comics like they're so obviously in love with each other but they just don't know it till they're in the morgue and they kiss each other in the middle of the apocalypse because it might be the last time they see each other and might die trying to save the world and garfield constantly grapples with the idea of raven loving him or the kiss being real, like look, i have not read the whole thing so i'm quite unsure about the terra incident within the comics but i have read blackest night which is a crossover to the comics and you can see just how much terra has made an impact on gar, and how she'll always haunt him and he'll always love her even though it wasn't real, gar is so obviously scared to fall in love again because of that and loses the meaning of what's real in front of him because of terra, he loves raven but he's scared to get hurt again and i think that there's this frustration that runs through within, of him wanting it to be real and asking her if any of it was, as a means of validation of their love and their relationship because he's scared that things may not seem as it is.

and raven, of course, actually, again, i'm not really sure what's going on because i've barely scratched the surface but i'm sure we get the gist when raven feels emotions and how it is for her to handle them, especially the intense ones and love is obviously one of those and like falling in love, being subjected to such a powerful thing like romantic love is incredibly overwhelming but also exciting? to the point where everything you feel for that person is somehow always heightened than the usual and it's bound to make you lose control, raven, as we can see is scared to fully indulge in loving garfield in fear that she might lose control and puts herself at risk if not the world but the thing is, she cannot bring herself to not love gar because he's essentially part of her, in issue#88 she mentions how his love for her has changed but her love for him still persists.

and speaking of gar being part of raven now, it goes the same for gar because he mentions in issue#100 that he tried to date other girls, he tried to move on from raven but all he could think about was her the whole time.

like they constantly overlap and linger within each other's lives and i absolutely adored their buildup and what i got from it, their love borders on unconditional where they continue to love another even if it meant they won't receive back that love or where they just love and accept each other for who they are, their relationship revolves around as just being more than humans but also being a person bigger than the pain that has molded you as who you are in the given and has thus removed your ability to be able to indulge in little things in life as well as giving love a chance, whether it be the first or second time and growing back together with that person you chose to give a chance.

they're so absolutely precious in the comics and i sincerely wish that this kind of writing comes through to any adaptations of them because it's so deliciously complicated and profound and just...the miscommunication, the slow burn, the yearning is there and god, i love them so bad :((((.

[lopmon1234]

Leomon: yes. It was go determine whether or not the Chosen Children could really save our world. If Devimon had killed you back then on File Island, that would be shown the limits of your abilities. But you have successfully passed that test with flying colors, and you even grown enough to face the Dark Masters on equal ground.

Dub

Leomon: you did. It actually makes sense, if Devimon had defeated you, then you would not be ready for a bigger challenge. Devimon’s powers was nothing compared to the Dark Masters. He was nearly the beginning. But you’ve proven yourselves, over and over defeating one evil Digimon after another.