#keeping it vague so I don't have to tag things;;

[theunholybastard]

Bad Day (Papa Emeritus IV x Gender-Neutral!Reader)

Requested by @ollies-station !!! <3

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Is Hinted Trans But It's Pretty Vague, Mentions Of Body Dysmorphia/Dysphoria, 2nd Person POV

Copia hovered over you, paints smudged and halfway wiped off. He stopped in the middle of washing his face when he noticed something wasn't right with you. You lay face down in the bed, unmoving, just so done with life.

"Eh... t-tesoro, what's wrong?" Copia asks warily, head tilted like a confused puppy, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. He was never very good at comforting people. But you were the love of his life, how could he not at least try to be of help? He just can't stand to see you like this.

"Everything." You reply hoarsely, muffled by the pillow you were crying into earlier. You were hardly exaggerating, everything seemed to be going wrong and sending you further down a spiral. Not to mention, you've not been very kind to yourself today either. When you first woke up, things immediately felt off. You felt off. Looking into the mirror, you instantly felt dread, like something wasn't quite right with you. Deep rooted insecurities bubbled up to the surface, your body not feeling like your own. You just want the day to be over already, but every passing moment feels like eternity.

"Bad day, huh?" Copia sighs, sitting down on the bed with you, mindful to give you a little bit of space if you needed it. You finally lift your head up, and the sight makes Copias heart ache. Red, puffy face, tear stains down your cheeks, hair tussled and greasy. You hadn't even gotten a chance to shower that morning, notably the first sign today wasn't going to be all that great. You probably looked like a hot mess right now, but to Copia, you were the most beautifully ethereal being he'd ever laid his eyes on, no matter what state you were in.

"Is there anything I can do?" Copia asks concernedly, softly stroking your back with a gloved hand. "Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better."

"Maybe... But there's still so much stuff I have to do today-"

"Non importante. Whatever needs to get done today, I will do it for you. You've had enough stress put on you today, now it's time for you to relax. Now, tell your Papa what is wrong, okie dokie?"

You couldn't help yourself, airing out all your grievances to him. You spared no details, every little thing that went wrong and every little worry you had was brought to his attention, and he listened intently to every word. That was the one thing he's always been very good at. Listening. And he was right, it did make you feel a little better, especially with how earnest you could tell he was.

When it was all said and done, he said nothing at first, simply holding you close to his chest, his warmth and sweet smell of cologne quickly lulling you into a sense of security and comfort. You knew you always had a safe space with him.

"Bad days come and go, amore. You must keep in mind that this won't last forever. The good days will come back sooner than you think. And yes, maybe they will fleet sooner than you want them to as well, but the important thing is that they will come again. Look outside, tesoro..." You did as you were told, gazing out the window to see the sun slowly setting over the horizon.

"The day is almost over, you see? And tomorrow is a new day. A better day. Why don't you sit here for a moment and focus on that while I run you a nice relaxing bath, hm? I'll quickly run whatever errands you have left today, and after that I'll order some takeout for the two of us, how's that sound? I'll get you whatever you want."

"And... And can we maybe watch something after? And cuddle?" You sniffle. A comfort show would be great right now. He smiles. "Of course! Anything for my baby." He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling away to get up and do the tasks he promised. You quickly grab the lapels of his jacket, keeping him from leaving you so soon.

"Copia... You know you don't have to do this, right? I'll be fine, really." You murmur, self conscious and worried that you're asking too much of this sweet, perfect man you've somehow managed to claim as yours. He chuckled.

"I know, amore; I want to. I want to make you happy, I want to make things easier for you. Because I love you. Because you deserve that. Capisci?" He says, a gentle firmness in his soft-spoken voice. Hesitantly, you nod. Still, you don't let go of his jacket just yet.

"Could you stay with me for just a little while longer?" You ask, hopeful and bleary eyed. He grins.

"As long as you need, tesoro."

-

[shiigures-a]

I really love how all the characters tease Tashigi about her obvious crushes.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

questioning sexuality is so exhausting

[butterflieswhisper]

looping echidna beastlife gif from trying to figure out toonboom

[girlfox]

━

[nocentis]

Black Arum ┆ Siegrain

Content warning: main character death, cannibalism, gore, toxic/unreliable narrator, highly canon divergent character portrayal. Read at your own risk. You will probably take psychic damage from this.

╳┆A lure was stuck in the soot between his lungs. Many times he'd felt the tug — enough that the wire fray had worn a rut where his ribs met — and many times he'd found her on the other end, reeling for remnants of him that no longer existed. She would aim to break him open, sift around in the cinders for those specks of him she wanted to confiscate, keep for herself, so that she could finally be rid of him. Once those flecks were washed and panned, the remains would reek like plough mud closure. For that reason he would come to her whole, every whit of ash accounted for.

A cherry little game they'd play. Her with flint and steel, eager to reignite that paltry spark of "good" that flickered freely for a lapse before he remembered himself. Him with tinder and kindling, letting it light only to call on the rain again. Her with just enough hope. Him with just enough time.

That resolve was so very compelling. More than her beauty, her candor, and even that glow he so loved to bask in — that luster he wanted to hold between his teeth and bury under his nails — more than that, her tenacity was a toothsome temptation, and he wasn't keen to deny himself anything.

So when he felt the pull, he caved to the beck and spooled the lisle. That day, the line seemed lighter, thinner, than it ever had. It should've been strong. Tensile. Instead it felt gossamer fine and just as frail, poised to tear at an ill touch, and he wasn’t exactly renowned for his gentle hands. Still, he gathered it with both palms and wrapped it proudly around himself like a ceremonial sash, grin scrawled across his face something devilish.

╳┆He found her lying in the shade beneath a long-lived magnolia, still and silent as she never was, with the color of her namesake spread around her head in halo streaks. Battle-torn, as she so often was, and yet uncannily... passive.

Anything he'd planned to say went out the airlock. Instead, he stood there with an anchor in his stomach, reaping the benefit of doubt.

Not a frown nor a sigh when he darkened her sanctum, only heavenward eyes tearless and unblinking and a resigned breath just short of peaceful. That worn tether waned phantom thin, light as helium, and the tension in his chest went slack.

There was no definite snap. No dramatic severing or ear-popping moment of clarity. Only the vague sense of loss so fresh a wound that denial was a numbing salve.

“Get up,” his voice a command, sandgrit against whetstone, thickened by an unnamed antigen.

The silence felt like mockery. A placid scene void of chittering fauna, clouds' drum, or even the most timid breeze. It wanted him to hear the absence of her breath and the stillness of her chest. It wanted him to hear the hollow. The empty. The nothing. Wanted it to resonate; to find the furthest reaches of his mind and clean them out until all that was left was this icy, clarifying silence.

He knew the end when he saw it. This was something much worse. It was robbery.

Her life wasn’t for the world to take. It was for him to hold in his hands. 

Something wet and pathetic slicked his tongue — some whiny, pleading thing — and it was stubborn as oil. The authority slid to the back of his throat and left him choking, “You are the indomitable Titania. You’ve laced fingers with Death time and again only to rise and slay and conquer, so get up.”

Her warmth was set to a slow drip, spilling from her in tired beads and seeping soundlessly into her chosen ground. Little whispers of her lost to greedy loam, sullied, never to be returned.

A waste of precious love. The sod won’t drink of her as he will. It will take of her and give back what? New “life” so fragile and fleeting? A feeble weed will take root, bloom its days few, and curl itself inside out? Pathetic. An insult to her legacy. An insult to the diamond-split sharp of her bladesoul.

His heart boiled over — popping, sticking, simmering sicksweet saccharine. It colored him cloying, flooded his mouth, and forced him to kneel at her altar.

"Please," he keened, hollow and morose, and his own pleading sickened him, “Say something.”

The sun trickled through the leaves like ichor, lighting up her black-blown eyes and the thin ring of honey surrounding them. Dim, distant, and dead as the moon.

His hand carved a path to her face, fingers featherlight against her fading flush. He brushed her bangs from her eyes and forced an unbroken breath through his quavering mouth. He traced each scar too faint to see and the parts of her skin their star kissed. Memorized the map of her face — each curve and crease, each fine hair, and every eyelash. He would carve out a space in his mind in her shape and fill it with the thousand sweet nothings he kept in his pockets.

He gathered her hand and threaded it with his own. When he opened his mouth, a rickety twine escaped from the deepest point of his chest, so he forced his jaws shut to keep the grief corked. He uncurled her fingers and pressed his cheek into her palm, trapping her there against his own scarred skin. His eyes fell shut as he breathed in this borrowed touch — this moment fated, stolen from him by this world's insatiable avarice.

He kissed her palm directly in the center; held it against his mouth and felt his own ruined breath echo back to him from the deepest grooves of her skin. Again, he begged, “Please, Erza.”

Of the armors innumerable now haunting this hallowed ground, this one least befit her. 

He revered Death. If there was a god, surely it was Death, he thought, for Death asks for nothing but life. The dead don’t know that they’re dead. They know a split second of euphoria and then a sharp, definite end. Isn’t that the work of a gracious god? One last stroke of color whether in peace or peril, and then eternal rest. Back to the dust you sprouted from.

But now he couldn’t see any of that beauty he often waxed poetic about. All he could see was change yet to come. All he could see was her, and he wanted her back.

He wanted her back, yet he knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as resurrection. While Death might be gracious, it was not generous, and it was not to be reasoned with.

The thought of her buried deep, bathed by the dark and abandoned to rot — it washed his mouth acid sour. It ate straight through his tongue and lingered in the roots of his teeth, burning, raging redhot in his jaws’ marrow.  A grave didn't suit her anymore than a pyre.

Soon she would be cold. Stiff. A feast for flies and their insatiable young. In the days to come, she would bubble and bloat and sallow. Her skin would loosen and slough off. The sun would bleach her bones. The meat of her would melt into oil and fat and bogspit. She would mix in with the soil, the groundwater, and this thankless magnolia would thrive.

It was tall, thick, with branches spread in all directions. The lowest of its limbs showed off the varied deep greens of its large waxy leaves, their undersides a chalky brown. A few white flowers bloomed, palm-shaped petals open in praise like they'd come to witness and worship. There was no question why she'd chosen to crawl here. It must've reminded her of home.

Despite its beauty, it was hardly worthy of her. Nothing in this ravenous world was. Her grave should be carved within his chest. There, he could keep her warm. He could host her in his veins. One day, they would wade the waters of woe together. Until then she could live under his skin.

He wouldn’t allow her to spoil. Wouldn’t place her gently into time’s whittlesome hands only to lose her peel by peel by rotting peel.

This world has taken much from you. Do not allow it to take her too.

A carnal ache etched itself into bone, a depth of passion he hadn't felt since he wrought for a false Heaven.

She is a fruit, ripe as a plum and twice the taste. Peel her open. There is a seed at her core. Plant it in your soot-field chest and watch her bloom anew.

What are these hands for if not this?

Flesh like sheets of silk. Muscle like rope. Blood like honey. Bone like an ivory trove. The splitting, the squelching, the straining, ripping, snapping; it burrowed marrow-deep and lingered there. Her chest peeled apart like jagged teeth, jaws croaking their rusted tune, and inside that redslick maw was the center of the universe.

The heart upon its throne, still as she, shielded by her precious lungs. It slid into his palm like it was always meant to be there. Raw, rich, and so very scarlet. Its sinews strained against his pull — those hollow vines that fed even the furthest parts of her — so he wrenched them free and draped himself in them like matchless finery.

Eat. Eat ‘til you’re sick. There’s a hole the size of her in the pit of your stomach. Eat until you fill it. 

What are these teeth for if not this?

Tough as leather; smooth as rubber. His teeth slid right off the rind and clicked together with nothing but metallic sheen between them. He gnashed at that ink-dripping muscle until he found a spot weak enough to tear apart. It tasted of rare meat and iron; a heady gore thick enough to drown in. He swallowed, gasped, and that first new breath felt like a blade.

The child inside him saw her split-open ribs as his cradle. He wanted to crawl inside, curl up, and die. He wanted to paint himself her color.

He lost his vision to the hot, angry wash. His own sobs were a distant sound, muffled by meat and blood and his own desperate fingers. He was numb in the mouth and in the shake of his hands, but he forced himself to eat, eat despite the choking, the gagging, the wet, weeping remorse.

Don’t you dare throw her up. Be grateful. Swallow and say thank you and finish what you’ve started.

He bit into his own palm, indistinguishable from her core, and he cried out in sour relief. His hands spread raw grief over his face, through his hair, and down his neck.

You’re no better than this starving world.

He curled into himself, hands clutching his own aching chest, and despite the cloudless sky, he called upon the rain.

[girlwarlock]

i wish there was some kind of @ mutuals thing to tag all my mutuals at once. would have been a cool thing to see on the social blogging website. ah, well, missed opportunities.

anyway, with the whole "we're basically giving up on this website and gutting the moderation/support team" thingy going around i'm going to be pursuing a dual strategy of "drive it until the wheels fall off" and "start looking for a new car in the meantime" and in that vein I sent a handful of mutuals a post about a potential alternative before i realized that i'm not sure that alternative is currently accepting new users. hmm.

anyway, i'm gonna mention most if not all my mutuals here on a reblog and if we're mutuals and you'd like to prepare for tunglr going down (eventually, someday, in an indeterminate but visible future), send me a message or an off-anon ask or whatever and I'll give you my discord handle and maybe if you're interested also some information about an alternative that i know you can join right now, although the join rate is throttled so it wouldn't be everyone all at once

yeah post now

[thresholdbb]

Idk about the space yarn... galaxy garment... cosmic cloth aliens

Boogie man ass bad guys

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[moinsbienquekaworu]

I'm sorry I'm going to be insane for a second, avert your eyes

[flowering-darkness]

hi ari i do have a question - how do u imagine the giratina wings would work .. like would they be solid .. trying to imagine lunadri cuddling with the wings in the way

Hello friend!!! Thank you very much for this question ^-^ (I apologise for how long my answer ended up becoming ;w;)

To answer your questions/comments succinctly:

The wings work a bit weirdly because they're to do with the original Giratina, which I'm saying was Reborn-Shiny because so is the Arceus (I think). ..Don't ask me how she got tied up with it in the first place.

They are more spectral than properly solid, but you can still feel them (putting your hand through them will make it feel numb though, and it also feels weird to Adriana, so perhaps don't do that). They look more solid when she's in a New World.

We can work around them! It basically just means Luna can't hug Adriana from behind without needing to take them into account, but.. everything else is theoretically on the table. So, I like to think that works out ^-^

Okay, now for my actual initial very long-winded response to this.

Hmm.. I will admit that I hadn’t considered this. I think it would make sense if Adriana’s wings were at least somewhat non-solid, in that, like.. most things can pass through them, but with some resistance, to the point that you can probably push something through them quite easily, but if you just sort of threw something at them then it would probably just lose too much momentum and fall. Adriana will feel it if something goes into or through her wings, though (at least after they become fully apparent, which happens after the Giratina quest in postgame. Specifically:

Only Anna is able to see Adriana's wings to begin with, similarly to the other traits she perceives others as having (like Taka's own wings or Cain's pitch-black eyes), and Adriana cannot see or sense them whatsoever. However, Anna never properly specifies what they actually look like, just insists that she has them.

After becoming void-kissed (so, after the Glass Workstation), Adri starts very vaguely being able to sense her wings occasionally, and they also start sometimes appearing in glimpses in her shadow. Other than that, no-one else can see or sense them, though Luna definitely does her best to accommodate them from here on out, regardless. It still isn't clear what type of wings they are. (Note that it's after becoming void-kissed that Adriana starts being able to perceive others as Anna does, so this means that this occurs with the exception of herself.)

Whenever she is confronting Umbral Trainers or Anomalies, Adriana becomes more aware of the presence of her wings, but is generally too caught up with what is going on in the moment to properly dwell on it like she wants to - and most New World areas are so shadowy that she can't really tell if they're constantly there in her shadow or not.

The moment her wings finally become visible and tangible to everyone is the same moment in which Anna starts mistaking her for a doll of Lin's - after she catches the original, Reborn-Shiny, Giratina that Zina sealed beneath Byxbysion. A comparison of this false perception versus the new truth is given below:

From this point onwards (which.. admittedly isn't that much more of the story, but still), Adriana's wings are spectral in the normal world, but fully-formed and solid whenever she's in a New World space. This is going to be my explanation for why they appeared solid during those old grand finale renders I made ages ago, but fade out on her other sprites and renders.)

It’s probably quite a strange sensation, both to Adriana and to someone else if they stuck their hand through them; I quite like the idea of anything that goes into or through the wings feeling very numb, rather than necessarily hurting or anything. They feel more solid, and the sensation is more intense, as you move closer to the part of her back where they look like they emanate from. I like to think the wings are solid enough (to Adriana at least) that she tries to take them into account when moving around, but also intangible enough that nothing can really affect them, necessarily - so, like, you couldn't grab them and use them to pull her towards you or anything, and she would also be able to put her back against a wall without too much issue (it might just feel odd to her). They also don't interfere with her clothing, thankfully. Such are the conveniences of spectral energy.

So, with all that said.. I do think that Adri’s wings would need to be taken into account to at least some extent when cuddling with Luna. However, it is not as much of a big consideration as it could be, simply because the two of us are already used to considering things when we cuddle, like making sure we don’t scrunch up our skirts for example. Adriana can also curl her wings fairly freely after they become fully apparent, so that helps, and they aren't that big to begin with (smaller than the ones Anna sees Taka as having, certainly), so that also helps. For example, I like to think that she would be able to lift them both so that Luna is underneath them, if we were both on our sides ^-^

Sorry for going on such a tangent there, oops ;w; I hope that this is still alright as an answer for you, friend! Thank you so much again for sending this in, it really means a lot~

[moe-broey]

I rhink one of the most haunting and disturbing OH I'VE. BREACHED CONTAINMENT moments was someone tagging my CYL results surprised Alfonse won and their vibe was like "I knew Alfonse is a fave of some but damn" like............. he........... sure is...... a fave of some. Um. Unrelated but have you looked at my blog for like ten seconds

[scarletfasinera]

Anyway since I can't send an ask because of character limit and I gave up after trying to write it three different ways and it not working, I'll just. Idk write a short vague post back? I'm assuming a vague for a vague is fair (don't worry I don't want to be mean I just have no other way of navigating this situation.) Since I'm exhausted & but want to at least express my view of it.

Idk just on the off chance they see this or one of our shared mutuals shows them or something. My "weak subtext" post had absolutely nothing to do with Adam Warlock, I didn't even remember that I reblogged that poll before making my post. I had seen like six other polls after the Adam one, bc I was actively looking through the blog, that did the exact thing my post was about, the blogrunner (who shall remain anonymous) had Pointed Out in private that it was happening and gave several examples & it was distressing them so I checked the blog myself and commented on it, which was why I made the post. Not the Adam poll in particular which I didn't remember and wasn't thinking about. I do not know enough about Adam to say anything about either the text or the subtext or anything, so I just. Wouldn't? It really baffled me that it was read that way.

Anyway. Farewell beloved mutual we barely knew ye...

[helielune]

i really miss old internet when logout buttons weren't like. hidden underneath three menus and two sidebars. idk.

[thundertide]

It's blog update time y'all~! <3

Two new muses have been added! Kyros, a Fatuus under the command of both Kagota and Childe ( @yoroiis ) who has some heavy ties to @waltzofphoenix's Diluc and Kaeya, and Rosalee, a frequently ill Fontanian girl with a particular fascination for magic and the things it could do to change her world.

Rules have been updated to add notes about Rosalee and Kyros to the triggers section, as well as recieved some minor tweaks here and there, like noting that while I'm caught up on the current plot, I like to take the game slowly and there's still much I don't know, having started playing only a year ago. I can't even consider myself a newbie anymore so time that changed-

Saiki's about has gotten a tiny update while it's in line for its major one: Her mother now has the name Adria, and is a woman who has heavy ties to a lot of things waiting in the wings for upcoming plots, much to Saiki's dismay and Adria's pure delight-

Kagota's about is now deemed an ongoing Work In Progress. It's been updated to reflect current plots, upcoming things, and general plotting going on, including her promotion to Operative shortly before the Fontaine chapter's start as well as her gaining a cryo delusion alongside it, her working with Childe under the Tartaglia name, carrying his vision rather than the Traveler, and the addition of a family section in her about to list out the members of her massive family, be they adopted, found family, in-laws, or blood, and her pregnancy during the Fontaine chapter with their firstborns. However, because of her closeness to Childe and how incredibly intertwined they are, something @yoroiis and I are constantly discussing and working with, and my outright refusal to step on the toes of canon if I can avoid doing so, she's also heavily impacted by the current archon quest events and with said quests as their own ongoing thing right now, I'm leaving her about as a WIP and will be tweaking and updating it as updates come in game, which also will leave her as very much still pregnant with her twins for the time being for anything set in the current point of the game's storyline due to an inability to pinpoint when their births occur. Please pardon the dust as things change and work themselves out over time regarding Fontaine, as future blog update posts like this will likely have more information on them regarding this.

Information on Kagota's abilities and fighting style with her cryo delusion will be added in future tweaks as a result of the previous point. I want to take this slow and think it out in full carefully, and use everything the game gives to work this out.

I think that's everything for this update round - I am still working heavily on things behind the scenes and there's a lot still upcoming being plotted and decided on pretty much every day, but I also don't like updating things without making posts like this to make them known, either! Even if it IS mentioning how much is staying as a WIP because agh, I have one mighty FONTAINE WHY waiting in the background for a LOT of the lore we're getting! XD

~Pom

[everymlmhybrid]

This is awesome just remembered I get to write the frottage scene soon assuming I actually write more than 4 words this week.