#world: prankster's paradise

[muses-of-the-memory]

Happy 85th Anniversary, Disney's Pinocchio!

Today is the 85th anniversary of...

Disney's Pinocchio!

It has now been 85 years that the old clockmaker, Geppetto had been living with Figaro the Cat and Cleo the Fish. He then created Pinocchio, to be like a son to him, and wished he'd become a real boy.

That's when the Blue Fairy came in to make him come to life,

and set Jiminy Cricket to become his official conscience. The two had went on some adventures together, such as trying to go to school until they met Honest John and Gideon, went sent him to

Stromboli, the Italian puppeteer, who had other plans for him after showtime.

Then, Pinocchio went to Pleasure Island and started to turn into a donkey.

When he heard his father was looking for him, the news shocked him that Geppetto, Figaro and Cleo had been swallowed by Monstro the Whale. That's when he began to save his father, and started to become a real boy at last.

Tagged by: @thepersonaking56, @the-world-hopper, @spirits-of-nature16, @bluemajingirl, @hoshi-neko-hikari

[gummi-ships]

Worlds of Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance

[keykidpilipili]

RegularPat's DDD world ranking mentioning the idea of a carrousel Pinocchio coachman boss fight with the donkeys snowballed into my incorporation of him into Destiny Islands Folklore the way Santa is. Because he kinda is anti-santa and the idea of the carrousel turning into a sled for some part of the boss phase sounds cool.

Sora: Hmmm wait this reminds me of that horror story at home but that can't be right?

Sora half an hour later seeing partially donkied Pinochio: THE EVIL COACHMAN IS REAL?! AND RIKU WAS WRONG AGAIN!

[hcdragonwrites]

Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

Ok! I ran this by Semi before I posted just because I know absolutely nothing about LMK (except the animation can be so pretty!) just so I could get their characters down. I hope you all like it !

She just wanted to escape- both from this place and from her own mind tonight.

The ghosts of memories were walking and she had no distractions to chase them away.

Peaches walked the cool cavern halls of Water- Curtain Cave, her feet echoing in the depths. The sandals she wore and the ornamental clothing she had been thrown into made her scalp prickle and her skin itch. It was too much- but the attendants wouldn’t hear a thing about it.

She had to look the part of Queen.

Peaches, in the absence of the Lord of the mountain and his right hand and sword, was the remaining voice of authority.

To a point.

Finishing with courtly duties and listening in on behalf of her husbands wasn't a huge chore. The two of them rarely left at the same time however. If one was called away the other would remain. Or Peaches herself would be brought along.

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

She had just this night- just this moment of reprieve and she would make the most of it. Or so she thought. Instead, she was fighting something that reared its head and struck her nerves like a asp.

However she wasn’t alone quite yet. As she rounded the corner and came to golden lacquered doors of her bedchamber - their bedchamber- she paused.

“Will that be all my queen?” One of the attending retinue of her guard asked. It was a guard her husbands insisted upon whenever both were away from home- a set of seven of the most battle scarred simians Peaches had ever seen.

They were tasked and sworn with following her everywhere - to the dining hall, to the throne room. If she wished to go and sit among the apple trees and listen to the wind play over the mountain grasses her guard would double in size. Peaches tried to not cause the denizens of Flower fruit mountain any more problems or stressors by going outside when both the King and his Brother in arms were away on a war path.

Her husbands.

It’s what they titled themselves now, after a decade of the terrible start they had on their relationship with her. When she had met the two, they had been just tiny monkeys. A sly looking ginger and gold monkey who had loved to cling to her arms and a dark black furred monkey that brought her fruits and almonds from the wild.

My sweet boys.

They had been her monkeys back then- the little prankster angels she had thought were just simple beasts, trying to survive out in the world.

She had been wrong.

The decision to upend her life, she guessed, had been floated around for months between the two disguised demons as they ate her fruit and enjoyed her touches. It was a mutual one that both had decided was the best option for her.

She took a steadying breath, coming back to the present. Peaches wanted a chance to be alone. Something so rare she craved it like a man in a desert craved water.

“Yes, general. I think I’ll retire early for the day.” She smiled at the monkey who dipped his body into a bow. The gleam of his armor set the flickers of a memory brewing. Fire in the trees, the smell of iron on the wind and a figure among the debris. She shook her head to dislodge it. The rest of them weren’t awful to her. Her husbands weren’t awful to her. They had just ….

Taken away her decisions.

“Very well Queen.” Peaches flinched, unable to quite stomach the title and what that truly meant. If I am queen then why am I without choices? “If you need us call us.”

She turned the handle in the door and slipped in side with as much grace as she could muster.

Peaches closed the ornamental doors to the bedroom, resting her head against the door. Steady. Deep breaths. In through her nose out through her mouth.

The illusion of a paradise that Wukong had built and Macaque helped facilitate always lost its color and believability when they were away. They couldn’t feed her the sugared lies and candied perceptions to tamp back the memories of that night.

It had been just another night on the small farm - a June night of heat and singing cicadas- of windows wide open and Peaches trying to escape that heat. There wasn’t much she could do to escape it. The moisture clung to her and made her bedding stick and clog her nose. So on these nights she stayed up, usually with a candle or the moon to illuminate her night, and read.

The knock on the door was not something typical.

The memory was rising and she couldn’t hold it back. I have to ride it out. Survive it.

Like she had survived that night. Getting visitors in the dead of the night had been unconventional- and she remembered the feeling of being perturbed. Don’t answer it, she told the memory. But this was the past and ghosts of the past didn’t change their course.

She had closed her book, had stepped down the hall to the door and had opened it.

I should have called through- told him to stay away! I should have never left my bed or my book.

It was a drunk man. A fellow farm hand called in for one of the families to help bring in a harvest that had proved too bountiful for the immediate family to handle. Peaches could see the man before her eyes, smell the reek of him.

A drunk.

“Well ain’t it the village spinster! Whaaa da pretty thing you are!” He was a cloud of bitter rice wine, of too much sake on his breath. The intensity of it had a physical effect on her memory and in the present, Peaches wrinkled her nose.

“You should go home Sir.” She had told him- tried to close the door.

His foot moved faster and his hands had caught the door.

A wild set of emotions swept through her. She had to sit her body down, thankful she had been able to get away from the other monkeys before the memory seized her like a vice. They would have been in a panic over her and she couldn’t let their little hearts worry so. There was nothing they could do to stop the remembering.

It was his fault this all happened. It was His. He didn’t have to be drunk and show up at my home- he didn’t have to shove his way into my house and try and grab me.

But he was just a single man. Did his actions warrant the destruction that happened next ?

“Get out!” Her memory self cried. The wooden table she danced behind as the drunk stumbled and moved towards her, was her only shield.

“The Boys Said you prefer the company of wild animals …” his speech was hard to hear. The wine had made him bold, stupid, and aroused it seemed. “I thought I would give you mtaste of what a real man was, since the villagers are al’ ‘fraid of your Witchery with monkeys.”

She had run- she had thrown her things at him. It was probably the commotion of her breaking a pitcher over his head that had alerted her monkeys. The loud clatter of the pottery across the floor had sounded so sharp and final. It had only made the man more determined.

The drunk when he did get his hands on her was furious. He swung a fist and sent stars into her eyes. Peaches had clung like a wildcat to her conscious, kicking out with legs and swinging with fists. Her nose was full of the sour smell of him- had felt his hands and fought them. A kick to his groin had sent him wheezing. Another fist to her head had Peaches crying. She had stared that drunk in his mean little eyes as he whispered the terrible things he wanted to do to her.

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

He never got to touch more than her arms that night.

Peaches heard something step through the door that had been left open to the night. She had heard the creak of her house as something walked within it. And the sound of something- like a water skin being popped and a splash of warm liquid against her belly had shocked her.

The Drunks eyes went wide with confusion, rolling horselike in his head. His bruising grip on her wrist had let go. In the present, She rubbed those wrists, the phantom pains hard.

“..mah… belly.” The drunk had mumbled then belched a bucket of blood onto the floor. Peaches could see something protruding from his middle- something long and thin like a stick. Or a staff.

Clawed hands pulled the head back and twisted with a fury. The sound of bones breaking was loud, as if a fire was consuming dry wood. The drunk crumbled in those hands like a puppet cut free of its strings.

A new stranger stood in her home, his frame large and broad and most assuredly not human. He tossed the body like someone would toss a rag across the floor. The glowing eyes in the sudden dark were all she could see. Her mind, even in its heightened adrenaline drenched state, recognized the face pattern, saw a familiarity in the fur. There was, in fact, still a little flower tucked against this demonic creatures ear. The same flower she had interwoven in her forest friend's fur that afternoon.

“Your… your my…”

Nerves and the come down from the adrenaline high we’re making speech hard. The monkey demon before her, who’s eyes seemed to spit fire, softened. Just a bit.

“You are my Peaches.” Wukong said, touching her hair, her face, her hands. Taking stock. Then he had taken those limp hands and threaded them through his fur, trying to get them to grip. It would help his own rage and calm her fear. It was thick in the air, ruining the natural sweet smell she had. That and the slab of flesh on the floors own fetid death scent.

Wukong was not the best at this - this comfort thing. But he would rise to the occasion. He would try for her.

Fury and rage made his tail lash and the fur along his neck to stand on end.

At first she had just been a simple human that would leave little offerings to him and his brother in arms. An oddity here in the shadow of his mountain. Most humans around here feared the monkeys and kept away from all of them, having a legend that if one was harmed a great calamity would befall them.

Wukong didn’t mind being that calamity. These were his people, his subjects. So hearing the chatter from some of his kind that a women had begun to leave out gifts had of course spiked the Kings curiosity. The humans beneath Flower Fruit Mountain were his lesser subjects. So he had come down from the mountain, disguising himself as a smaller and more approachable sized monkey, to see the fuss his subjects had started gossiping about at groomings. Only to see his brother, Macaque, already being petted and tended and kissed on each of his six ears.

Of course first impressions had been terrible and Wukong, used to getting the first pick of everything, had come screeching into the clearing and demanding his own pets. It had set off a very small and very mock little battle between the two brothers in arms. One that had Peaches separating them and scolding them as she patched up the little scratches they had taken from eachother. They could have each resisted her pull but both decided that play acting a fight, even if it had started as a bit of one, was the best way to get attention divided between the both of them.

Wukong hadn’t expected to become infatuated. Her name didn’t matter to him- he had rebranded her almost the instant she came to him and offered a smile and held out a handful of sugar and dates. Peaches. After the Kings own favorite fruit, the sweetest thing the mountain produced.

His Peaches.

Of course also Macaques. He shared everything with his brother, the dark furred and six eared demon who had faced battles and won wars besides Wukong. While Wukong had been more leery, Peaches won him over faster than Flower Wine loosened his rigid posture. They had both fallen for this mortal women. And, in the traditional way she belonged to them. She just didn’t know it yet. They had touched and groomed and cuddled and tangled limbs and tails. They were practically married without the marriage bit.

Wukong rubbed small circles into Peaches back, trying to keep himself from bearing his teeth in rage.

I should have taken her home the moment she kissed me.

They had been kisses of the kind one gives to a friend or pet. It had left the warlord craving more burning with more.

Of wanting to feel her give him more than just a chaste kiss on the side of his face.

She wouldn’t have been hurt if he had just taken her home.

Wukong and Macaque had taken to one or both spending the night in Peaches trees, to keep an eye on her. Wukongs obsession had grown into a fascination and warm buttery love. A love that was becoming a wild inferno as he fought to stay still and not leap upon the corpse he had made and turn it into nothing but bits of flesh and gore the crows could carry away.

His Peaches fingers finally grasped his fur and shook. It brought Wukong back from his montage of rage to the present. If only Mac was here — but he wasn’t. He was back at home on Flower Fruit mountain , giving his brother the night to enjoy and keep lookout at Peaches den.

“That’s my girl.” The demon tried to soothe. He really wished he could set Peaches down and finish off what he had started. This place had been bad. This village terrible. He hated every thing and one here that had dared to let a drunken fool up to his Peaches doorstep and allowed this to happen. In reality Wukong was mad it had been Mac’s own sense of importance on taking it slow and letting a little thing like a life outside of Flower Fruit Mountain stop him from from revealing who he was and taking her home.

I am done trying to woo her over slowly. They could have lost her this night if Wukong hadn’t been in earshot, hadn’t heard the crash of something breaking. His clawed hands wrapped around her back and beneath her legs. Before he could realize it, Wukong had her up and in his arms, already stepping on and across the corpse and out into the June air. Mine.

“Let’s get you home, lovely.” Wukongs voice was thick with emotion. Relief to finally, finally, finally have an excuse to take his wife home, to see her sleep in a real bed and eat real food made his heart swell. No more pretending. No more longing. It was happening now. Simmering beneath that emotion was the sweet bubble, the red misting rage, of violence. Once he got her home, got her safe, got her tangled within some of his and Macaques blankets to where the sour smell of fear would be lost within the scent of them- he could come back. He would come back.

He would destroy the village for being the obstacle it was in his conquest for this mortal girls heart. It was in itself, a relief to know he was justified in its destruction.

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

Peaches was shaking. Clinging to him. I would have her cling to me always. He pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in as he walked off. She smelled so good. He rubbed his face to hers, affectionately smothering her fear scent. Wukong felt a smile curl his face. Finally. We can go home and put the charade to bed. Finally you are mine.

Peaches' memory of that night was mostly of clinging to Wukong as they flew through the air, of his voice a rumble of soft words and comforts. He was holding her close, pressing her in. Smothering her in a sense. But she needed it. She clung to it in a way to stop herself from being sick from fright. It was strange but familiar to hold this fur, to cling. Then she briefly remembered another voice, another set of hands. When she looked up and saw that her sweet dark monkey was also here, had also been a demon in disguise, something broke in her. Maybe hysteria. Maybe disbelief. Or maybe she knew, somewhere in her mind, that no matter what she said now wouldn’t save the people- the innocents- in her village.

Peaches had been transferred into the dark arms and THATS where she finally began to cry. The shock was fading and leaving behind ragged holes of emotion.

“Safe, you're safe now.” She was reassured. Hands had lifted her chin, her sweet little monkey- now a demonic one- was gently beginning to sponge away the blood from the cuts on her face. Her cheek swelled, her eye with it.

“Please don’t kill them.” She begged. “He already took care of the one who hurt me don’t kill my village.”

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

Silence. Something cold pressed to her face- a bit of snow from far up the mountain wrapped in cloth. Macaques ears twitched like flower petals in the night air.

“It’s already done. The village is already gone.”

The memory rode itself out in the present and faded slowly.

Guilt washed over her and she cried all for a new reason. She had been the catalyst for Sun Wukongs fury. She had been the decider to his want of destruction. Peaches may not have killed them, may have had a decade to realize that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but Wukong had done it in her name. He had erased that village and all its people like a cartographer reshapes a map. To all the rest of the world, their had never been a village in the shadow of Flower fruit mountain. Not a foundation, not a brick, not even a spare hair, was left of humanity there. Instead it had been cleared as if a fire had swept through. Peaches had seen it on one occasion when Wukong had been persuaded to show her. She had needed closure. Needed the peace.

Once she had healed she had been told her village was gone. She had been given a sweet lie- that Wukong had gone back and the villagers related to the drunk had been ransacking her house to see where she kept the money or any spare wine.

When Wukong had shown up demanding they answer to the crime committed in her home, they had attacked. Wukong had enacted a king's justice as was his right. He had told the remaining villagers to leave- to never set foot upon his domain again for the lawlessness that had been enacted upon their neighbor.

It had taken two years for her to be able to relax whenever he came in smelling of fire and iron. It had taken a few years more for her to remember what Macaque had said when he had pressed snow to her face.

They were the same little monkeys they had been before. But now they had less innocence when they pressed into her face for kisses, when they asked to tangle and cuddle limbs. They insisted she stay in the bedchamber and not move to her own separate room.

It had taken getting used to movement beside her as a hand tugged her hair, or a tale twined her waist. Or a leg curled with hers or hands holding her face. Sometimes in the dark Mac would press his head to her back, using her as a pillow. Wukong would yank her in when he thought her too sleepy to remember and whisper all the things he loved about her.

It would have been sweet. It was touching in a way. If not for the way they revealed themselves. If not for that memory and what she knew now had come after.

It had not taken too long after that for her to start realizing that, though Wukong had saved her, neither of them had any regret of what happened. Neither of them was going to let her go.

When she asked about it or started talking of missing her home- the simple living, the ability to really on herself and choose for herself- Wukong would laugh and launch into one of his tales. He would brush her hair with his claws, run his face against hers and try and deflect her attention to new things.

Macaque, if Wukong was absent, would let her talk. Usually it happened when he asked her to brush his fur or he in turn asked to brush her hair. Peaches thought, just a bit, that the reason Mac was better at listening was for all the ears he had. Each time however, when she got to the part about how this had been her fault, he would stop mid way through a braid or pin and pull her in. Macaque would kiss the tears from her eyes, would press himself close to her chest.

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

“I remember. I remember he went back- you said he—“

“Hush love you’ll grow hysterical. What Wukong did was justified- he defended you.”

“He killed.”

“I have killed.” He kissed her temple, gentle in his reprimands. He wouldn’t try and brush her words beneath a rug like Wukong. Instead he gave her a smile as wide as the crescent moon. “Let’s finish your hair and get you dressed. We can go see the baby’s, I know how you love the baby’s.” Baby monkeys were her weakness. They had been what led to her loving Mac before she had known he was a demonic warlord.

Peaches rubbed at her eyes and stood, the sorrow in her heart heavy still but the tears at least had stopped. Now she was just tired. Tired and cold and wanting to escape the feeling of it all. So she shed her courtly attire. All the clips and jewels and baubles and bits felt heavy. She placed them within the box at her armoire, then loosened her hair from its bindings. Jade pins, pearl necklaces, golden bracelets with bells of silver (Wukong loved this the best of all) all glimmered back in the firelight.

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

On nights like this, she wanted to wear nothing but her smock, her simple clothing, and bury herself as far as she could go into the bed she shared with her husbands.

It was more of a pit set into the ground, circular in nature. Silken pillows, red sheets and a hoard of anything plush and furred had been thrown into the pit. It was also a snug place to bury herself within and one of the few things she didn’t feel resentment too right away. When the outside felt too bright and she couldn’t go about the mountain to her usual quiet places, she would retire here. To burrow, to bury, to hide.

Peach fell back into the pit of blankets and pillows and pulled herself beneath a fur of some striped monster Macaque had skinned and gifted to her. Tonight the bitter truth was hard to swallow and did circles in her head.

You did this. You caused this. You killed them. This is your fault.

She closed her eyes and hoped … hoped for what might be the worst thing yet. Her husband's return.

A time later she stirred. Something was in her room- was walking to the bed. Peaches felt a flutter of fear before hands reached into her hiding place and simply slid her out.

“Hello darling.” The silken voice belonged to none other than Macaque. His clawed hands entwined around her waist, his teeth nipping at her ear. “You are up late.”

“Does that mean it will be a late morning?” Wukongs voice came from the other side of the room. Peaches could see the ginger monkey removing armor from his shoulders and stretching. As the darker brother kept making a snack of her shoulder, Peaches noticed that the shine of Wukongs paldrom was dimmed. Something black coated the golden imprint of sunbursts across its armored surface. “I love late mornings! Means more time together.”

Blood?

“Peaches?” She turned her head, trying to see Mac. He had left off nipping her skin. A hand came away from her wrist and tipped her chin, forcing her to stare directly into his violet eyes. “What has upset you?”

Everything. Myself. Wukong. You. It was that simple question that set her sorrow to flowing again. She was confused, upset, and she wanted comfort. The only ones who could give her comfort were the very ones who caused her distress.

A vicious cycle.

The pillows behind her sagged. Wukongs hands were more aggressive in their touches, turning her about to stare into her face. He noted the tears, the bruising beneath her eyes. His lip curled in anger.

“Has someone upset you?” Wukong asked. He seemed ready to stand again, to grab his armor and step out into the night. “I will drag them here to give an apology. You name them and I will fetch them.”

Peaches shook her head.

“Just ….” You killing the villagers, Macaque telling me plainly that it was for the best, and my own head making me relive that night of events. Over and over and over.

“…. Myself.”

His face softened as he chirped a reassurance, pressing his nose to hers. Macaque peppered her in gentle and butterfly soft kisses to the back of her neck. The three fell back into the nest, limbs entwined and hands holding. Macaque had Peaches face buried in his chest as she sobbed silently. He cooed. He whispered how everything would be right as rain in the morning. His hands ran through her hair and messaged her scalp. Wukong held his Peaches, pressing her back to his chest in a solid wall against the world outside. He lavished her in praises and compliments, sometimes getting carried away and talking about himself until his brother would remind him with a flick to his forehead that it was their Peaches he should be reassuring.

And through it all, through this twisted and tangled weave of limbs and fur and warmth and sorrow, Peaches felt love. It grew in this dark place still, wanting to thrive. But how could it?

Still she fell asleep, lashes sparkled with tears and her heart lighter. One could only be sad so long in the wake of such waves of attention. Wukongs and Macaques love was the only solution to this ailment they had inflicted upon her, and she, the addict, swallowing the medicine that would give her release.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

May I request a reader who comes from a different world who worshipped the Greek/Norse gods (Ex: Aphrodite, Hermes, Apollo, Loki), and had a good relationship with them, and comes into the ROR world all confused on why the gods want to destroy humanity… still being very respectful to the gods, even if they’re different versions of the ones they worship as long as they respect them back, but still on humanities side since they don’t what anyone to die.

I used very small information on people irl who are Hellenic pagans, and the gods seem very nice! So that compared to the ROR gods who want humans dead would be interesting.

I remember doing a similar one to this, only the world where Reader originally came from the gods were downright terrifying, like the worst versions of the gods.

-It was strange, this Valhalla looked so much like your Valhalla, the one you called home, but there were things that were so different, mainly with the gods.

-When you arrived in this Valhalla, many of the humans and gods were curious as you were from another dimension, they wanted to know about your world, like how things differed.

-The gods in both worlds looked pretty much the same, maybe with a few different fashion choices here and there, like with Aphrodite, who was more covered and had better support for her…endowments. This Aphrodite told you to explain and while a bit embarrassed, you did, “She keeps hers leashed with a supportive bra, one that is easy on her back, as she doesn’t want to risk sagging boobs by having them flying free all the time.”

-You explained, while Loki was poking your cheek with a smile on his face,  that your world’s Loki was a prankster as well, something he did enjoy, but he was less violent, not being so quick to throw hands with those who disagreed with him.

-Your Zeus was a true leader, acting mature and fatherly, helping and guiding humans, which had led to a much better relationship with humans compared to this world, and under his example, the other gods of your world followed suit.

-It was a bit humbling to hear, learning of your world where the gods actually did their jobs, monitoring and guiding humans, helping where they were able to without interfering too much, and how much happier humanity was- like there were less wars and suffering and Valhalla was like a paradise where gods and humans got along.

-They had to wonder if this Valhalla could have been like that, if they hadn’t turn their back on humanity, the thing they created, so long ago. And the humans had to wonder how their lives would have been if all the gods actually cared, and not just the few who had.

[heliads]

Hello lovely! I was wondering if you could please write an enemies to lovers Sirius x reader fanfic where they're always bickering and arguing but one day, reader seems rather numb and he makes an obnoxious comment like "Trouble in paradise, princess?" and they get mad and say "Oh, get f, Black! Easy for you to have a go, isn't it? Why do we always have to talk about my shitty life, Mr. Tell Me A Fucking Secret?" and the reader storms off and he finds out that they're brother died? Sorry if that doesn't make any sense and i fully understand if you don't want to do it. Don't forget to drink water and have a great day :) 💞

'an apology' - sirius black

masterlist

Everyone likes Sirius Black. Everyone but you, it seems. You’re not sure how in Merlin’s name he managed his widespread popularity. Maybe there was a secret prank of the Marauders a while back in which they jinxed everyone in the school to grow besotted with the long-haired, mischievous, good-for-nothing scoundrel, then accidentally forgot to cast the enchantment on you. It wouldn’t even be that unrealistic, except there’s absolutely no chance that Sirius hasn’t picked up on your disregard for him. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he enjoys it.

Of course he would. Of course Sirius Black, Quidditch star, Marauder, prankster extraordinaire, absolutely reckless and divinely insensible Sirius Black would get a kick out of riling you up. How could he not? It’s like it’s against his programming to do anything that makes sense.

The two of you have been clashing since the day you met. No matter where you are– walking to class, accidentally paired up for a class project, meandering through Hogsmeade– you and Sirius have a knack for finding each other even in the thickest of crowds, and then promptly wanting to murder each other. You squabble over small things, like tying one’s tie incorrectly, and big things too, like when Sirius pranked you too hard one time and it took the entirety of the Marauders and your friend group working in tandem to prevent a genuine slaughter.

Needless to say, every day in which you can avoid running into Gryffindor’s favorite troublemaker is a good one. Needless to say, in a small castle like Hogwarts, that task is pretty much impossible. Even when you pledge to yourself that you’re going to pick the high road and stop letting yourself get riled up by him, you still somehow manage to get yourself lodged in yet another petty dispute.

Today, though, you really don’t want to see him. You woke up this morning to terrible news from home. Professor McGonagall had called you into her office to deliver the solemn verdict herself. Although she can be a terrifying presence, you’re glad for her today. This way, there wasn’t anyone else around but her when you found out that your brother had died.

It seems impossible. You can picture your brother in your mind– laughing, smiling, running around– and the idea that he could be dead is nonsensical. You would know, you think. Surely you would know. If a bright light like your brother could be snuffed out overnight, you would have been able to feel it. Yet you didn’t, and the world is still spinning, and you are expected to get yourself up and keep on living even though your brother is no longer here. You’ll never be able to see him again, never hear him call your name whenever you go home. He’s gone, gone forever, and you can’t think about anything else but him.

Professor McGonagall, surprisingly, is a good person to help you with loss. She listens to you brokenly sob for a while, then lets you stay in her office for as long as you need to stop crying. She offers you some biscuits, which are only mildly stale, and offers to write you a note to get out of her class, at least, although she can’t speak to the rest of her fellow professors.

You thank her, then head out. Although the idea of curling up in your bed for the rest of the day and perhaps the rest of the year as well is quite tempting, you know that if you let yourself go into misery, you’ll never be able to claw yourself out. You decide to go on with the rest of your classes for the day, as much for the distraction of not being alone with your thoughts as anything else. 

You can quietly tell your friends what happened, and they’ll make sure nobody bothers you. Your brother died. Nothing seems to matter anymore. The idea that someone like Sirius Black might try to cause you trouble is almost laughable. Your brother is gone. What can a classroom bully possibly say to you to make this worse?

Sirius Black is getting bored again. He always starts idling halfway through Charms, anyway, but it’s not like that’s his fault. Flitwick should know better than to put oil lamps in front of his students, anyway; yes, they were supposed to be practicing discretion with their incendiary charms, but what does Sirius care about that? Besides, the fire he started only lit Peter’s sleeves on fire, and they managed to snuff that out pretty quick anyway. No damage done, not really.

By the time the day is halfway over, Sirius is itching for something interesting to happen. James is shaking his head and laughing at Sirius’ impatience, chiding him for not paying attention, but Sirius has seen his best friend’s eyelids drooping more than once today, so it looks like both of them are stifled for entertainment.

Sirius can tell that it’s gotten bad, because he’s hardly stepped out of the Great Hall after lunch when he spots Y/N L/N trailing down one of the corridors, and he actually starts grinning ear to ear. Y/N’s a fascinating person. They argue with Sirius like there’s no tomorrow. Sirius regards Y/N as an ever-changing maze to solve. Every time he thinks he’s hit a wall with ways to bother her, he finds something else. It’s delightful. He’s kind of obsessed with her.

So, upon seeing her, it should come as no surprise that Sirius would bid a hasty farewell to his friends and hurry to catch up with her. Usually, Y/N’s quick to shoot him a glare whenever she sees him, but this time she hardly seems to notice him when Sirius appears by her side. Strange, but he can change that.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” he says glibly. “I’ve missed you since I saw you yesterday, you know.”

Sirius pauses expectantly, waiting for Y/N to hit him with a rather devious comeback about how she’d rather walk over hot coals than willingly spend time in his company, but instead, she just keeps walking. Her shoulders are hunched, and her gaze is somewhat vacant, as if her mind were a thousand miles away. The quick thought flashes through Sirius’ mind that maybe she’s thinking about some guy, like maybe another student flirted with her earlier today and she’s distracted by it, and immediately his gut twists over with hot, white, irritation.

Fine, then. If she wants to ignore him, Sirius will make that impossible. He can up his game. “Tell me a secret,” Sirius drawls, each word slow and silvery like the smoke he loves so much, “What’s got a pretty face like yours looking so twisted up? I know it can’t be anything too terrible, I don’t think it’s possible for you to worry that sweet head over anything major. Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble in paradise, princess. I just won’t believe it.”

That does get Y/N to look at him, but the sharp glance she directs at him is full of not anger but pain, pure pain. “Shut up,” she hisses at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of messing with me? Easy for you to have a go, isn’t it? Why do you always have to dig into my life, Mr. Tell Me A Fucking Secret? Leave me alone.”

With that, Y/N abruptly turns and stalks down a nearby corridor. Sirius watches her leave with absolute astonishment. They’ve had some verbal sparring matches which have turned nasty, to be sure, but never before has she looked at him with that much loathing. Worse than that– Sirius swears that he’d caught sight of some tears in her eyes when she’d regarded him with such misery.

Impossible. Y/N has never actually been hurt by anything he’s said to her. Right? No, she hasn’t. Sirius would know. This must mean that something has happened, something bad. Across the corridor, Sirius catches sight of one of Y/N’s friends looking at the scene he’d just caused with great distress. When she realizes Sirius has noticed her, she makes to follow Y/N, but he quickly stands in her way to keep her there.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asks plainly. No use in beating around the bush.

Y/N’s friend looks away. “None of your business, Black. Y/N’s right, how about you leave her alone for the time being?”

Sirius swears he can feel something break in his chest, some tendon plucked like a bowstring. “What are you talking about? What do you know?”

Y/N’s friend tries to get away again, but when it becomes evident that Sirius will not be leaving without an explanation, she sighs and gives in. “Y/N found out this morning that her brother passed away.”

She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t have to say anything else. Instantly, Sirius feels rooted in place, struck by an awful wave of guilt. Y/N must be drowning in grief, and he’s just gone and teased her even worse. Merlin, she must hate him if she didn’t already.

When he looks up, he realizes that her friend is gone. Slowly, Sirius goes down the corridor he’d last seen Y/N, carefully checking every door and room in search of her. After a while, he finds her sitting on the ledge of a window, knees tucked up against her chest. The afternoon light falls on her face, revealing fresh tear tracks. Sirius’ heart thuds dully against his ribs, the unenviable guilt rising up to choke him once again.

She looks up when Sirius drifts closer, and her face twists. She flinches as if she’d like to run, but Sirius raises his hands hastily. “I’m not here to fight, honest. I wanted to apologize.”

Y/N regards him suspiciously. “Since when have you ever apologized?”

Sirius winces. “You’re right, I’ve been terrible. It’s just– Merlin, Y/N, I had no idea. I’m so sorry about your loss. I wouldn’t have said a thing if I had known, I promise.”

“So you would have been fine to belittle me like usual, but since you found out I– I lost my brother, you feel bad? Perfect. Now leave me alone.” She says tersely.

Sirius grimaces. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just– I have a brother too, you know? Even though we don’t quite get along, I can’t imagine losing him. The fact that you’re still able to get up and walk around is amazing to me. I think you’re really strong.”

Y/N stares at him, but some of the defensiveness is gone from her gaze. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirms. “This is a terrible thing to have happened to you, and I’m so sorry that you have to go through this. Losing family is awful. Just know– I’m here if you want to talk, alright? I know you probably hate me for everything, and I wouldn’t blame you for it, but if you want someone, I’ll be around.”

Y/N stays silent, and Sirius takes that as his cue to leave. Just as he turns to go, though, he hears a soft voice behind him. “You can stay.”

Sirius looks back at her hopefully. “Yeah?”

“I’ll allow it,” Y/N tells him, but the corner of her mouth starts to quirk up a little into a somber half-smile, so Sirius realizes that he’s okay again, that they’re okay again. It feels far better than he could have imagined.

He takes a seat on the ledge opposite Y/N, and they both look out over the view of the grounds below them. Or– Y/N does, really. Sirius is more distracted by the girl in front of him. There are some things he’s starting to realize about her, about how he feels about her. It’s a good thing he has her forgiveness, so he has the time to think a little more about it.

harry potter tag list: @blondsauduun, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[radical-revolution]

In Memory

After I got the call that Ram Dass had died yesterday, I closed my eyes.

He is still here.

I could feel the vast field of love that was shining from Ram Dass when Trudy and I taught with him just a couple of weeks ago. And I always will.

On the final day of this last retreat, called “Open Your Heart in Paradise,” Ram Dass was frail and didn’t have access to many words. But he was there in the most powerful way. He swam delightedly with the group in the ocean, chanting “Oh Joy, Oh Joy.”

And on the retreat’s last morning, he put his hands on a basket of 350 wrist malas, each tied with a thread of his guru’s blanket, to tenderly bless them. Then, as participants came by slowly to receive their malas, he silently looked into each face, offering to all what is sometimes called “the glance of mercy,” a gaze so full of love that it left many of us speechless and weeping, drunk with blessing.

I have known Ram Dass for 48 years, as master teacher and inspiration and role model, as a dear friend and benefactor who helped me begin to teach, as a companion on the path, as a truth teller and prankster, as a profound healer and whisperer of souls, as a kind of prophet for a generation. Out in public with him across the years, over and over people would come up to him and speak lovingly, tentatively, urgently, offering thanks, “Ram Dass, I just want to let you know you changed my life!” And he did… for so many of us.

Yes, his book “Be Here Now” changed countless lives. Yes, his work with Seva Foundation cured 5 million people of blindness. Yes, he taught almost nonstop for 50 years, spreading wisdom and humor, wild devotion and love and a vast timeless mystical perspective across the world. His obituaries will be filled with his many other accomplishments.

For me he is family and Sangha, even now still spreading his playful, tough, delicious love everywhere, connecting with our hearts. “Yum, yum,” as he would say.

He was so ready to leave the wheelchair and skinny and broken body, to go home.

Home is not somewhere else.

It is here, in life and death, in the eternal dance of consciousness, weaving together form and the formless mystery from which it all comes.

Ram Dass is the vastness reminding us that in the end, there is only love.

~ Jack Kornfield, two years ago🙏

Be Here Now

Please read aloud, pause in-between, and listen to the poetic heart-words of a Great Teacher...a Beloved Guru, and a true inspiration for so many of us throughout this life.

_________________________________________

We're fascinated by the words--but where we meet is in the silence behind them.

The quieter you become, the more you can hear.

It is important to expect nothing, to take every experience, including the negative ones, as merely steps on the path, and to proceed.

The most exquisite paradox… as soon as you give it all up, you can have it all. As long as you want power, you can't have it. The minute you don't want power, you'll have more than you ever dreamed possible.

I would like my life to be a statement of love and compassion - and where it isn't, that's where my work lies.

In most of our human relationships, we spend much of our time reassuring one another that our costumes of identity are on straight.

The heart surrenders everything to the moment. The mind judges and holds back.

Your problem is you are too busy holding on to your unworthiness.

As long as you have certain desires about how it ought to be you can't see how it is.

Treat everyone you meet like God in drag.

The most important aspect of love is not in giving or the receiving: it's in the being. When I need love from others, or need to give love to others, I'm caught in an unstable situation. Being in love, rather than giving or taking love, is the only thing that provides stability. Being in love means seeing the Beloved all around me.

Suffering is part of our training program for becoming wise.

What you meet in another being is the projection of your own level of evolution.

The spiritual journey is individual, highly personal. It can't be organized or regulated. It isn't true that everyone should follow one path. Listen to your own truth.

Let's trade in all our judging for appreciating. Let's lay down our righteousness and just be together.

Only that in you which is me can hear what I'm saying.

Everything changes once we identify with being the witness to the story, instead of the actor in it.

We are all affecting the world every moment, whether we mean to or not. Our actions and states of mind matter, because we are so deeply interconnected with one another.

A feeling of aversion or attachment toward something is your clue that there's work to be done.

The next message you need is always right where you are.

I would say that the thrust of my life has been initially about getting free, and then realizing that my freedom is not independent of everybody else. Then I am arriving at that circle where one works on oneself as a gift to other people so that one doesn't create more suffering. I help people as a work on myself and I work on myself to help people.

I'm not interested in being a "lover." I'm interested in only being love.

The game is not about becoming somebody, it's about becoming nobody.

Learn to watch your drama unfold while at the same time knowing you are more than your drama.

If you think you're free, there's no escape possible.

Every religion is the product of the conceptual mind attempting to describe the mystery.

It's only when caterpillarness is done that one becomes a butterfly. That again is part of this paradox. You cannot rip away caterpillarness. The whole trip occurs in an unfolding process of which we have no control.

We're here to awaken from the illusion of separateness

We're all just walking each other home.

~ Ram Dass now, just as before,

at home with Divinity

[chichirid]

(sub) system names inspired by hermit craft / traffic light smp

hermit craft: the paradise of/for sheep, the silly builders, the pranking crafters, the pranksters’ base, the redstone mines, the secret sapling society, the hermits, the penguins of grand prix, the decked out squares, the emerald miners, the copper pickaxes, the dungeon runners, the battle royale, the deck of pixel cards, the skating ice boats, the arctic grand prix, the bin-go boards, the mischievous architects, the lovely world, the mycelium biome, the growing moon’s admirers, the moon’s worshippers

secret life/traffic light: the red hearts, the yellow hearts, the green hearts, the colorful spies, the secrets, the secret keepers, the murderous crimsons, the boogeyman’s allies, the heart foundation, the mounders, the big dogs, the roomies, (name) and the scotts, the unaligned winners, the spikey thorns of a cactus, the degenerating hearts, the damage inside, the pixel souls, the winner’s symbols

[lozfanchick]

Hello, a little bit too much obsessed with your Parent Trap Au but I really need to ask.

What is Azure's real reason to send Macaque away? Is he good, is he bad.. Is he none? What's his plan? Does he really only adore Wukong because of his wealth and population?

Is his goal to manipulate? If yes, who? Maybe just from jealousy, envy?

Thank you!

Hey again!! No worries I LOVE talking about my fic so questions and rants just make me super happy and proud!!! :DDD

So Azure in the show is manipulative. He manipulates MK into going into the scroll to get his brothers. He tries to talk MK into leaving Wukong. Plus he's the type that sees if the ends justify the means then it's worth it. I mean he destroyed the area around his paradise, but he got Camel Ridge so it was worth it (nevermind all the death literally surrounding it). And once he has his mind set then there's no changing it. In his eyes DBK and PIF are traitors, even tho PIF betrayed Heaven and has lived as a demon for a super long time. And DBK had literally just recently "retired" his demonic war-waging ways. But I guess only his people get to beat on demons and the like then betray Heaven and join the cool kids club; PIF was late so she doesn't get a seat at the table idk (can you tell this is a big issue for me lol). Anyway, he's charming and has got a lot of charisma and wields it well. So in my fic I just expanded on that.

Now to put his mindset in the fic into perspective think of the biggest current day superstar. Someone most people in the world would recognize or at least have some familiarity with the name. If that person suddenly started dating someone, everyone would then know their name and they would ROCKET up to new heights. That's a SUPER tempting promotion and seems so easy to get. Date the biggest celebrity, stay with them for awhile and then BAM you're now a known name, not just someone in the credits. That's the main goal for Azure.

And now we get into my headcannon's for Azure and Wukong in LMK:

In the show I got STRONG lionpeach vibes because I mean...Azure looking at Wukong with those eyes. BUT he only saw what he wanted to in Wukong, a strong and caring leader. But Wukong was also reckless, greedy (left his people and his island often for power and titles), and clearly was a prankster/jokester. Now I don't believe this is even shown in the show, but I think part of the reason Azure is so mad at Wukong isn't just him betraying them but him not being everything he thought Wukong was. Wukong not fitting the mold Azure's mind had him in. Wukong couldn't defeat the Jade Emperor and instead gave up (not fight till the end), Wukong wasn't strong enough to win, Wukong wasn't a leader but a follower of a human monk. So many let downs and that's why he was ready to turn on Wukong before the fight between the jttw crew and Camel Ridge crew. Yet he still loved or at least wanted Wukong or some control over him. So he didn't want Wukong dead, he just wanted him trapped and then he'd decide when to free the monkey. All this is to say that's also what I did in my fic. He may like Wukong, but he doesn't love him because Wukong isn't just a good actor, he's also a dork who prefers to eat fruit all day and has a pool even tho he can't swim and refuses to learn.

tldr: I HC that LMK Azure saw in Wukong what he wanted to see and got disappointed at the real him, so I also emulated that in my fic

[genshinemblem564]

Sagau: A god's closure + world building

World building, possibly, it's here if I need it

Characters: Hu Tao

This came about from a journey to the "border" with Hu Tao. As an immortal being who grew up as a mortal, your own mortality, or lack thereof, began to weigh on you. When you finally reached your destination, you and Hu Tao were surprised to find a massive gate where you distinctly remember there wasn't one, and in front of it stood a hulking being which resembled an Anubis.

"Anubis": Ah, your grace. To what does this watcher of souls owe your visit? Ah, but forgive me, your memory is not fully intact, so I imagine you must have many questions.

Warden: I am a being known as a "Warden" as I am a protector of the kind and good willed souls that pass through here, while making sure the evil spirits remain trapped in their prison. This gate you see is the gate to the after life. You may note that it was not here upon your last visit, both it and I were revealed by your desire and divine power. Now may I ask, what is your desire?

You shake yourself from your shocked state and state the purpose of your journey.

(Y/N): I-I wish to know, can I visit my friends once they're "gone"? I may be immortal, but I was raised as a mortal, so bonds come to me much easier than they do the archons and other immortal beings.

Warden: I see. Well, to answer your question, yes, you may visit the afterlife whenever you like .

You breathe a sigh of relief as the weight that had been on you the entire journey here finally lifted.

Hu Tao: Oooh, hey, big fella, would you mind describing the afterlife a bit? I'm just "dying" to know more about it.

(Y/N): I'm also rather curious.

Warden: Very well. The afterlife has gone by many names, you may choose to call it whichever you like, but it serves as both paradise and prison. You may recall I said I am "a" warden, there many more of my kin beyond this gate. This place was made by you in your past life to be a paradise to all, and that meant making it a prison for others, and I must say your past self understood mortals well, as there are many aspects to this ever expanding plane. First, I should explain that this gate's destination changes depending on your soul. Good and neutral souls enter a serenity inducing room where servants attempt to lift the weight of their past life, and just beside that is a therapy center as some spirits are more tormented than others. Meanwhile, evil souls are brought straight to the prison, where they are kept until further notice.

(Y/N): Sorry to interrupt, but what is a neutral soul?

Warden: Hmm. I suppose you would say they are those who mind their business, or perhaps they are broken souls who could have done more if life had provided better circumstances. In short, while these souls are not "good" by some standards, they hold no malice within then. Thus, they are neutral. Pranksters, such as your guide here, are also labeled under this category, while good at heart, they are still trouble makers disturbing the peace and thus require disciplinary action should their pranks get out of hand.

You nod and smile in acceptance to this answer, feeling relieved for all of the broken people you've heard of. Hu Tao kind of huffed as if she thought he was describing her.

Warden: On the note of broken souls, there is also a rehabilitation wing of the prison per your command. In your words, "Evil is a disease. Those who are born with it may be beyond saving, but those infected by it are curable with proper treatment." So far, these words have proven true. Many a Rotten soul has been cleansed of malice and given freedom from their torment. Speaking of the prison, the only other thing of note is that it is ever changing in size to house the ever changing number of inmates, but this is true of all aspects of this realm. Now, onto the more pleasant aspects of the afterlife. As stated before, your past self understood mortals well and constructed many districts, with the souls making new ones with each generation. The first is the obvious housing district where the souls live or rather have more personal family time as, if you wish to be technical, no one "lives" here.

You and Hu Tao chuckle a little at his little joke.

Warden: Second, there are the working districts as, surprisingly, many souls find satisfaction in hard work. These souls do jobs such as farming, cooking, many different types of artistry, engineering, construction, smithing, and sales despite there not being a currency here. These districts include the market, the entertainment district where concerts and plays are held, the foundry where all metal is worked into a new shape where it is promptly sent to either the workshop where it is used as machine parts, or the ones made into weapons will be sent to the coloseum where the souls who yearn for battle can relive their glory and have crowds of adoring fans cheer them on for it, and then there are the self explanatory farmlands and restaurants.

(Y/N): That's, um, a lot.

Warden: Quite, and there's still more. There are also the springs and gardens for those seeking a moment of peace, the banquet hall often used by the warrior spirits after a thrilling match as they revel in each other's glory, then there is the central plaza which the souls have taken to calling Festival Street as all of the realms festivities are held there, the archives where those who seek to learn can go to hone their craft. Also, since many people seem to ask, yes, the souls of animals are sent to paradise as, while a lot of animals do kill, it is most often during a hunt or defense, and they are not all malicious. Pets will often wait outside this gate for their owner or one of them if they had multiple, wild and farm animals are led to separate biomes that are suited to them. These biomes are also popular spots to take a trip. Ahem, sorry, I'm just so used to being interrupted by that question that going so long without answering it felt weird. Anyway, back on topic, there is also the museum, along with the archives it is used to preserve the truth of this world's history, not the glorified mess they teach in schools. There are many more human desires that I can list districts and buildings for, but I feel you and your friend would like to make it home before the end of the season, so this will be the last of what I say provided you don't have anymore questions. It may not surprise you that many of the souls within this realm are quite religious, so much so that there is a statue of you, er, your former self in the central plaza, with many smaller shrines to you and other deities scattered throughout the numerous districts.

Hu Tao thanks the warden before turning to leave.

(Y/N): Just one more question, I promise this will be quick. As I've stated before, immotality can be costly on one's soul. This holds true even to those born with it. My question is, would I be able to give others the ability to visit?

Warden: If that is what you desire. I take it this means I will be seeing a few of the archons soon?

You nod and thank him for his time before finally leaving with an extra spring in your step. Once outside, Hu Tao stretches rather loudly.

Hu Tao: Mmmmh. Man, that took forever, but I think we both got something out of that. You got peace of mind and i got a new appreciation for my work.

(Y/N): A "new" appreciation? You enjoyed your work well enough before, I dread to think of what you'll do now.

Hu Tao: Oh you. Don't some archons to visit?

(Y/N): Maybe later, we were in there for quite a while, and all that listening made me rather hungry.

Hu Tao was about to comment before her stomach growled, causing you both to laugh as you made your way back to the harbor.

___________________________________________

Well, that was a massive info dump, definitely longer than I anticipated. I haven't seen anyone tackle the subject of the reader's lack of mortality, and the idea of a creator who can willingly traverse both the realms of living and dead has been rotting my brain, I also wanted the ability to give the archons a bit of closure, at least the ones who lost someone dear to them. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that rather lengthy info dump

[artirific234-blog]

Devoured World Idea.

i kinda wished that during Aqua's journey through the Realm of Darkness, we could have seen more of the worlds that fell to the darkness thanks to the Heartless, like Beast's Castle, Prankster's Paradise, The Grid (in a World Within-type of situation), Symphony of Sorcery, La Cite de Cloches, Country of the Musketeers, Pride Lands or Land of the Dragons; and see how the Darkness manage to twist these worlds due to the corruption it has inside too.

Like for example, having the entire of Beast's Castle world being twisted like how the Shadow Stalker/Dark Thorn did to the Ballroom

Like can someone imagine the same but not just the Ballroom, but the entire Castle AND the forest too?

Like the area would be like the Valley of the Dark, but much more frightening. Like the Dark Forest in Dwarf Woodlands, but much more organical and shadowy. Plus this would bring a new type of Pureblood Heartless based on the Wolves of the film too. It could even be like a parallel to what happened to Belle's world in Mirrorverse as well too:

Stellar Magic has transformed the Mirrorverse world of Beauty and the Beast into a place where the woods and wilderness are savage and dangerous, and where all manner of terrifying beasts claim the forests.

It would be like that, but theses beasts would be Purebleed Heartless themselves, in their hometurf too.

I feel that the Mirrorverse's desings of Gaston's pelt would make for good Wolf Heartless designs, since not only would they fit the Realm of Darkness aesthetic, but there can be much more dangerous like the dark hyde, only this time there won't be bosses, but just a wolfpack of Heartless too.

I feel that an area like that would be called: Castle of the Dark, or Where Beasts Dwell, or a name like that to fit with the Realm of Darkness's nature.

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance - Prankster's Paradise

[a-crack-in-the-universe]

Terraqua Week Day 4 - Free Day

@terraquaweek

It had all happened so quickly. She and Terra had been in the middle of a particularly intense battle with a giant Heartless in Prankster's Paradise, one they hadn’t encountered before. It’d looked like they were winning, when the Heartless had made an unexpected attack that Aqua hadn’t seen in time, having been too caught up in fending off the Heartless’s previous attack. But Terra had noticed, a mere second before her. He’d tried to block it but had failed and been knocked out by the Heartless’ attack.

Once that had happened, Aqua had known that she wouldn’t be able to defeat the Heartless by herself, so she briefly cast Barrier and called for backup using the gummiphone. Sora and Kairi had come within the next ten minutes, as they’d already been close by doing a mission on a neighbouring world. Riku had arrived from Mysterious Tower in the aftermath of the battle, to check that everyone was all right and the Heartless gone.

Of course, Terra hadn’t been all right. No one had been able to wake him, and while Curaga appeared to heal his physical wounds, it also did not wake him up. And so they’d taken him to Radiant Garden, to be examined by Ansem the Wise and his apprentices. Now, they were waiting outside Ansem the Wise’s castle in Radiant Garden, for someone to come out and give them an update on Terra’s condition.

Aqua couldn’t stop pacing. It had been hours since they had brought Terra to Radiant Garden via the Gummi Ship, and Ansem the Wise and his apprentices had taken him into their surgery room to examine and hopefully operate on him.

‘Why couldn’t he just let me take it? I could’ve shielded myself, I could have…’

‘You know how Terra is,’ Ventus said quietly. Ven had arrived quickly, as soon as he’d gotten Aqua’s message about what had happened. ‘He’d die before he let either of us get hurt like that.’

She felt treacherous tears sting her eyes but didn’t try to wipe them away. She didn’t want to bring any attention to them, and besides, maybe she ignored them they would just disappear. One could hope.

‘I know, Ven,’ she whispered. ‘I just… I hate this so much. Terra looks so badly hurt… I don’t know what we’d do without him if he dies.’

I don’t know what I’d do without him. Terra had been a constant in her life since she’d first started training to be a keyblade wielder, at age of ten. She hadn’t gotten along with him at first, finding him annoying and off-putting, but gradually, as the years passed, she began to see the traits of his that no one else save maybe Master Eraqus saw—his warmth, his kindness, his protective nature, his stubbornness and care. And so gradually, over the years they’d gone from strangers to friends to best friends and rivals. And Aqua had realised that she cared for him much more than she could ever say and couldn’t bear to lose him. Her, Terra and Ven being separated for over ten years due to Xehanort had only strengthened her feelings.    

‘He’s not going to die,’ Ven said confidently. ‘Don’t think like that, Aqua. Remember what Master Yen Sid said? It’s important for us to believe. Terra’ll find his way back to us, you’ll see.’

Yes… she remembered. Master Yen Sid had said the same thing when she awakened in the Mysterious Tower with a comatose Ven, so many years ago. It had been easy to believe then, but now she’d experienced too much darkness to ever think that way again.

------------

Some time later, Aqua didn’t know when, Ansem the Wise finally appeared outside the castle gates, looking tired with dark shadows under his eyes.

Aqua and Ven, Riku, Sora and Kairi immediately turned toward him. He smiled at them in greeting.

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting for so long,’ he said. ‘Our examination took us longer than we had expected.’

‘Please…’ Aqua forced her voice to stay calm. ‘Will Terra be all right?’

Ansem looked at her gravely. ‘He will live,’ he said. ‘But his condition is uncertain…’

Her heart hammered in her chest at the words. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It seems that the attack Terra bore the brunt of, infected him with a dark virus,’ Ansem said gently to her. ‘Because of this he is comatose—his mind subconsciously did this in an attempt to protect his heart. He will live, but we don’t know when he will wake up or what his condition will be like when he does.’

‘Oh…’

‘When can we take him home?’ Ven asked him.

‘We want to keep Terra here with us for further observation for another seven days. Then he can go home, provided his condition hasn’t gotten any worse,’ Ansem the Wise said.

‘Great!’ Ven said, trying to maintain an air of positivity. ‘Right, Aqua?’

‘Yes… good.’ She forced her frozen lips to move. ‘Thank you, Master Ansem. You’ve done so much to help us.’

Ansem smiled sadly. ‘It is nothing, Master Aqua. I am happy to help, and so are my apprentices. I, too, have some affection for Terra, and it grieves me that he has been hurt like this. But please be assured that he will recover and wake up. He just needs time.’

‘Thank you,’ Aqua repeated, with tears stinging her eyes, and heard Ven echo her. ‘We’ll stay in Radiant Garden until Terra is ready to leave.’

------------

Seven days later, Aqua and Ventus took Terra home to the Land of Departure.

‘Call us if he gets worse or if he wakes up,’ Ienzo instructed them when they were about to board the gummi ship. Aqua got the impression that he, like Ansem the Wise, was also worried about Terra and cared about his wellbeing.

‘Of course, Ienzo,’ Aqua said. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve all done.’

‘It was nothing,’ the man said shyly.

And so they went home. They managed somehow miraculously to carry Terra to his bedroom in the castle, despite him being so heavy, and settled him in his bed. It would’ve made it much easier if they’d had someone else to help them, but Aqua had felt too distraught to really accept any help offered by Ansem and his apprentices.

The next days passed in a painful blur. Aqua busied herself with paperwork, while Ven went on missions to various worlds, usually paired with Roxas or Xion. After all, there were still worlds to protect and the Land of Departure to maintain, and Terra being injured didn’t change that. They went at it with a surprising intensity—neither of them wanted to think too much about Terra’s absence.     

But even with their days being occupied with their respective duties, they still made some time to sit at Terra’s bedside and talk to him about everything that’d been going on. They always had dinner in his bedroom, because Ven insisted that it would help Terra wake up sooner.  

If she was being honest with herself, Aqua thought, she’d insisted that she needed to stay in the Land of Departure to work on paperwork because she didn’t want to leave Terra while he was like this. Throughout each day she sat often with Terra, holding his hand and talking to him, sharing the thoughts in her heart like they’d used to do back when they were kids. When had they stopped doing that? She didn’t know. From time to time, she had a sudden urge to kiss him, but she restrained herself. It didn’t feel right to do it when Terra wasn’t awake to say anything about it.

‘I know you can’t hear me, but… I miss you. I wish you would wake up soon.’   

She refrained from speaking the other, more personal words that were at the front of her mouth. I love you. I need you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Her heart clenched at the thought of Terra never waking up. She’d already had to experience that with Ventus, though the younger boy had woken up eventually when Sora had used the Power of Waking to help guide Ven’s heart back into his body. She didn’t want to have to go through that again with Terra.

‘I swear, if you never wake up, or if it takes you ten years, I’ll never forgive you!’

---------------

Five days after they’d brought him home, Terra finally woke up. Ven was with him at the time—Aqua was preparing their dinner in the kitchen. When Ven had called out to her in such an urgent tone—“Aqua, Terra’s awake!” Aqua immediately dropped what she’d been doing and ran to Terra’s bedroom.

As she burst through the door, she found the sight of Terra sitting up staring at her with tired eyes, but very much awake. She felt as if her heart would burst with relief and joy.

‘Terra! You’re awake!’

Terra snorted slightly, but smiled at her. ‘Yeah… I guess I am.’ Then he rubbed the back of his head and a confused expression crossed his face. ‘What happened? The last thing I remember is fighting that giant Heartless and trying to block that attack you didn’t see.’

‘Well…’ Aqua and Ven glanced at each other. Aqua continued, ‘You were knocked unconscious and we—Sora, Riku, Kairi and I—couldn’t wake you up. We took you to Ansem’s laboratory and he said that you were infected with some kind of dark virus and that your mind put you into a coma to protect your heart. Do you feel all right now?’

Terra looked surprised but answered her readily. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Great!’ Ven said. ‘I’ll call Ansem the Wise to tell him.’   

Terra and Aqua were left alone as Ven ran out of the room. Aqua smiled fondly after Ven, then turned to Terra. ‘We’re about to have dinner,’ she told him. ‘You can join us—you must be hungry after being asleep for so long.’

Terra laughed. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be up to eating dinner. I feel ready to fall asleep again. I’m not sure I can even get out of bed.’

‘That’s okay,’ Aqua said. She gripped his hand and squeezed it gently. ‘You need a lot of rest to recover.’

Later, after dinner, she lay curled next to Terra on his bed, her hand in his, and she said the words that she couldn’t bear to say while he’d been unconscious.

He looked at her, surprised. ‘You really mean that?’

She looked into his tired, hopeful eyes and nodded. ‘Yes. I don’t know what I’d do without you. When the Heartless hurt you and you wouldn’t wake up, it scared me a lot.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘When I took that blow for you, all I could think of was that I didn’t want you to get hurt. I thought if anyone had to get hurt, it should be me.’   

‘Why should it be you?’ she challenged him. ‘We’re partners, Terra, remember? We look out for each other. You can’t protect me from everything. There’ll always be a point where I’ll get hurt.’

Terra looked away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It was just—instinct.’

Aqua sighed. She really couldn’t blame him for doing what his heart told him to do. It was just that she’d been so scared for him. She didn’t want to feel like that ever again.

‘I know, Terra,’ she whispered. ‘I understand. I just was so scared. Don’t do that to me again. After everything we’ve all been through, I can’t handle another scare like that. I don’t want to lose you.’

‘You won’t lose me,’ he said to her gently. ‘I promise. I’ll be more careful from now on.’

She saw the honesty in his eyes and smiled. ‘Good,’ she said, and kissed his cheek. ‘Now go to sleep. You need it.’

She hopped off the bed and started toward the doorway. When she was almost at the door, Terra called out to her.

‘Aqua?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I love you too,’ he said drowsily.

Then he closed his eyes and slid into sleep. Aqua smiled fondly at him, then exited the bedroom.

[isan0rt]

I keep Xehanort posting on account of how Dark Road made him so extra fascinating and I keep turning him over in my brain like a rotisserie chicken but today I'm thinking about how DDD and KH3 for Young Xehanort really was like, Kingdom Hearts: Re:Traumatization; Distorted Cognition.

(Side bar I really do think, for him, those games happen in that year between his two meetings with Master of Masters. It's the most obvious explanation for his radicalization, and like. I know he's often referred to as Young Master Xehanort but I think that's as in, he's the young version of Master Xehanort, but he's not actually a Master himself yet. If he was, he wouldn't be condescendingly talking down to Xigbar in Re:Coded about how he will get No Name; he would already have been granted it. He's still on his world tour, and will take the test after all this.)

Really though from the first world he appears in, shit is fucked for him. This dude is like 19, only four years out from watching all but one of his classmates get murdered, and now he's going through This Shit while on his 'stew alone in your own feelings with no emotional support' study abroad.

The first world he appears in is Traverse Town where the fucking Reaper's Game is going on. Four dead teenagers who all really want to live, two boys and two girls, and the younger girl, the little blonde, the baby sister is visibly younger than the others, and her older brother loves her so much and wants to save her so badly but he can't, can he? They're already dead. Xehanort's there watching these four split up from each other and having to manipulate them but it doesn't matter, they're all already dead.

Prankster's Paradise. It's fine, this is just a dream, and besides, Pinocchio is just a doll. His feelings aren't real (no matter what you feel coming from him) and they don't matter.

The Grid. Just programs, and for that matter just copies of programs. Their feelings aren't real (don't worry about what you're perceiving) and they don't matter.

Quasimodo is an outsider, lonely and isolated, and he'll never be accepted. Watch how he's treated for it. Think about whether you (Xehanort) were ever really accepted in Scala, or if you'll also always be second fiddle even with no one else left. You can only rely on yourself, and the future your older self has laid out for you.

Sora, in The World that Never Was. He's a walking time bomb; an empath with no control over his abilities, and totally unable to stop taking other people's pain into himself. He has already imprisoned three other hearts inside himself because he can't let go, and he is already cracking under the strain (Anti Form. Rage Form. Even Data Roxas tells Data Sora he'll destroy himself if he can't learn to let go). Sora is going to break, and Xehanort has seen what happens when an empath who can't handle the burden of other people's emotions catastrophically shatters under the strain. Get Sora under their control, before he goes critical.

Toy Box. They're just toys; spilt them up from each other and watch how they fall apart. They aren't strong enough to handle things without dragging on each other. Their feelings aren't real and they don't matter. You can reproduce the conditions of your own trauma and see that the outcome will be the same, that Baldr could never have been prevented and there was no way to save him (See, Angelic Amber just needed to be stopped by force. But then Buzz...). They're just toys. It doesn't matter.

Sora again. See, he's broken. He couldn't handle the strain. But... What's he doing? He can't save his friends, they're already dead. It can't be done; it shouldn't be done. How dare he; what's so different about him? What gives him the right to have them back? But Sora can't really have his friends returned without consequences, surely-

See? It destroyed him. Sora couldn't let go of his attachments and accept his grief and it destroyed him. Just as Xehanort warned. Just like it destroyed Baldr. Attachments only cause suffering; Xehanort won't let himself be ruled by them. He simply won't get attached to anyone else, ever again (but what about Eraqus- what about his dream friends- what about-).

And all while surrounded by Nobodies, hollowed out of all but the tiniest seed of the potential of a heart, and Replicas, only copies. Their feelings aren't real, and they don't matter. All that matters is the goal. Don't worry about the negative emotions other people are feeling about what you're doing. It's for the good of the worlds, they simply are too shortsighted to understand. A cat will also fight you when you try to pill it, but you are bigger and stronger and know better, and this is what you have to do.

It's fine. It's fine. Their feelings aren't real, and they don't matter.

Do what has to be done.

[twistedtummies2]

If your TWST Boys ended up in the Kingdom Hearts universe, which ones would be the worlds they would prefer to visit?

I'm gonna go for the obvious answers, because it's easy. XD Billy would most love Disney Town or possibly Disney Castle. Because Mickey Mouse. Nakoda would most love Deep Jungle. Because it's a jungle. He might also be partial to the Pride Lands. Elias would most love Timeless River. Because inkblot and rubber hose. Reno would most love Halloween Town. Because TNBC. James & Smitty would most love Neverland, in any of its variations...especially KHI/Chain of Memories. They might also be partial to Port Royal/The Caribbean. Maelstrom would enjoy Prankster's Paradise, and would take Monstro's place there. XD Theodore & Grit...hmmmm...now THERE I have to think, because (at least so far) there is no Oz-themed World in KH...come to think of it, wouldn't an Oz-themed World be awesome? I know they can't do the MGM version, because MGM, but Disney's made a couple of Oz-themed movies, why not use one of those? I'd love a boss fight against the Nome King or Theodora! Should have included one or both of them on my list of villains I'd love to see in KH, come to think of it... ANYWAY...I'm gonna saaaaay...Dwarf Woodlands for Grit, because of the mines, beyond all else. And for Theodore...maybe the Enchanted Dominion? He's a member of Diasomnia, and the Witch did have a good ol' fashioned creepy castle, like Maleficent...

[queengirlblog]

Beautiful funny aquarium story 😂🌊

Once upon a time in the bustling city of Aquatown, there was a little aquarium named "Finny Fantasia." Nestled between a bakery and a toy store, Finny Fantasia was no ordinary aquarium—it was enchanted. The fish inside were not just regular fish; they were a quirky, funny bunch with personalities as colorful as their scales.

At the heart of this aquatic wonderland was Bubbles, a jovial goldfish with a knack for storytelling. Every evening, Bubbles would gather his friends around the coral castle to tell them hilarious tales of the underwater world. His best friend, Gillbert the guppy, was the prankster of the group, always coming up with new tricks to make everyone laugh.

One sunny morning, the aquarium was buzzing with excitement. The owner, Mr. Finnegan, had just installed a brand-new treasure chest decoration. Little did he know, this chest was magical. When the moonlight hit it just right, it would open and grant one wish.

That night, as the moon cast its glow on Finny Fantasia, the treasure chest creaked open. The fish gathered around, their eyes wide with wonder. Bubbles swam up and said, "Let's make a wish for something fun and unexpected!"

Gillbert, always the mischievous one, suggested, "How about we wish for legs so we can explore the human world?"

The other fish giggled at the thought. "Alright, let's do it!" they chorused. With that, Bubbles made the wish.

In a flash of light, the fish found themselves with tiny legs and feet! They wobbled and flopped, trying to get the hang of walking. Laughter echoed through the aquarium as they stumbled and tumbled, their fins flapping wildly in delight.

The next morning, Mr. Finnegan opened the shop to find his fish tank empty. Panicked, he searched everywhere. Meanwhile, the fish were having the time of their lives exploring the bakery next door. They tiptoed through flour, leaving tiny footprints, and nibbled on crumbs, giggling at their newfound adventure.

Suddenly, the bakery's cat, Whiskers, spotted the fish. Instead of pouncing, Whiskers burst into laughter at the sight of the tiny fish with legs. The fish, seeing the cat laugh, joined in, creating a symphony of laughter that filled the bakery.

Hearing the commotion, Mr. Finnegan rushed in. He couldn't believe his eyes—his fish were dancing and playing with Whiskers! Realizing it was all in good fun, he carefully scooped them up and returned them to Finny Fantasia.

That night, under the moonlight, the treasure chest opened once more. The fish decided to return to their natural state, but they cherished the memory of their hilarious adventure. From that day on, Bubbles' stories included the time they had legs and explored the human world, much to the delight of his friends.

And so, life at Finny Fantasia continued, filled with laughter, friendship, and the occasional magical adventure. The enchanted aquarium became famous, and visitors came from far and wide, hoping to catch a glimpse of the funniest, most charming fish in all of Aquatown.