Let me live, let me die @apocalopalyptic-a - Tumblr Blog

𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎 & 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎!

Welcome to apocalopalyptic, a multifandom multimuse sideblog run by Joyous. Mainblog is muse-bs. Activity levels for muses may fluctuate. Have fun now, ya hear!

Established June 27, 2022

Rules & Muses

Interest Checker

#nav post

//ough i still kinda wanna pick up ragatha she’s so autistic lesbian to ME

#Poor horse girl #OOC #tbd

//yeahhhh, even tho no one will follow it, this blog is due for a remake. once july ends I'll get on that

#kick the pomni muse and add ragatha too when that all happens #I love women with familial issues #clearly. bc as u can see I have now given amira ~eldest sibling trauma~#OOC

royalreef

"Oh," Miranda says, and her voice just gets smaller, shrinks inwards on itself, on this moment, makes her seem too young and the world around them too old, too big.

She's still staring out across the night, out at stars that twinkle dully in the urban haze, at clouds that streak across the sky like smears of grey paint, at the dark place where the moon is hanging, but can only be seen by looking at where the stars aren't. Somewhere above them, there is a small light, blinking and tracing a slow path across the night, a plane flying overhead, accompanying someone else to some other business.

Beneath it all, what is Miranda? She's still standing here, the world strangely quiet around them, quiet for a night like this, out here. She lifts her hands just to tug on her own fingers, worrying herself with her own claws, hooking her thumbs against the opposing pairs. So much time, so much to consider. She's just one part, standing here, and she doesn't know how to justify herself in front of it all, how to make it all be worth something, how to make it make sense.

She's still not looking at Amira. She doesn't want to. It's childish, she knows, stupid and simple in the childish way, not wanting to look at her because it's easier, then, because then she's not really saying these words to Amira, not really saying them to anyone, that she can cut them down into a shape that can be digested. It's better this way, she thinks too. Better if Amira doesn't know what Miranda would wish for, because Miranda doesn't know how she would say it either, how she would make it come out of her mouth and mind, how she would be able to look at it afterwards.

"That is okay, I think. Or, it is about what I expected, really." There's a faint quiver in her voice, something so small and so uncertain that it almost sounds like a stutter, for a moment. That Miranda could stutter is a thought so odd, so strange, that it's what lends its main credence to the thought that it's not a stutter.

Miranda looks down at her hands now, at her tail as it begins to curl around her own legs.

It feels like a strange reminder, that Miranda really is a youngest sister, the baby of her family, that all her siblings are so much older than her, more experienced, more knowledgeable in such things. She's the smallest, in more ways than one, and there's something in her gaze, the way she stares down at herself, that makes it ache like a bruise under the ribs, impossible to ignore with every breath.

She doesn't follow it up with another question. Miranda can only assume that if she doesn't ask, Amira won't mention it, and then neither of them will have to look at it, especially if it doesn't matter anyways, especially if she really just got her hopes up for nothing.

apocalopalyptic-a

It's weird, to see Miranda act so small and young.

Her being quiet doesn't shock Amira, everyone is quiet compared to her-- loud, brash, reckless flame. But for however quiet Miranda comes across in Amira's mind, it doesn't make her seem small. She's a princess after all, and she holds herself like one-- tiny but above so many.

(Amira's never been above someone in her life, she's pretty sure she doesn't know how to be).

Miranda's not larger than life this moment. Instead, she's the most grounded Amira's ever seen her, close enough to reach out and touch, so she does-- hand resting between them just enough for her knuckles to brush against her.

"There isn't really a lot of us, y'know? I haven't really met anyone outside of my family and I don't-- we're not really like other djinn, I think. If it was someone else, they'd know more." It's not quite an apology but it's spoken like one. Amira can't help, not with the wish, not with comfort, not with anything else Miranda might need.

She knows, after years of looking after her brothers, how to apply first aid and mend bad days and soothe nightmares. How to take care of them, and sometimes herself. What she doesn't know is how to take care of anyone else.

Especially not Miranda.

"I... I really don't know, Miri. There's a lot I don't know."

#royalreef #No smoke without fire | IC

//yeah if I picked up ragatha and dropped pomni would yall be mad at me orrrrr

#Also been thinking about jhudora a lot #Need to put more effort to be here #Maybe I WILL remake #OOC

//as pomni has grown more functional I have, admittedly, lost some interest in writing her but as ragatha has grown more dysfunctional I have gained interest in writing her

#I love women that have bad relationships with their mothers idk #OOC

Scowling and lurking in the corner like a particularly unpleasant shadow.

#yes I'm here still alive #Two evils with one stone | IC

welele

#We're better off burning bridges | Musings

//also the artist who does jhudora art that i really appreciate reblogged my art with exclamation points in the tags so i feel very validated teehee

#Maybe I shall draw her some more in between ocs #Build a brand of some kind perhaps #OOC #tbd

poisonoyous

You never forget your first crush

also available in less fog and no fog versions

#points #She’s keeping to her cloud | Visage #my art

//ngl I think this blog could use a remake but it's been dead for so long I'm p sure only like 2 previous mutuals would bother following the new one lmao

#what to do what to do #OOC #tbd

"It's just me and my angry music against the world, isn't it?"

#I will be on here more goddamnit. EFFORT #Divert; design; demure | IC

@royalreef said: "Amira?" she finally asks, after they've been standing here in silence for too long, watching out across the night like there's anything interesting out there, something better than looking at Amira directly. Miranda is too quiet, too diminutive for this. Too dressed down, not wearing the dressings of her own image, speaking too simply and too openly. She knows she shouldn't be saying this, shouldn't be speaking it. She knows her apprehension should cloud her judgement more, knows she should wait, knows she should keep it to herself. But, well, her mouth and her throat are already open, already giving weight to something she shouldn't even be mentioning, shouldn't be humoring. "I am not... You know I am not the most well-educated in manners of landfolk, so forgive me if I am... If I am terribly wrong, or incorrect, in some manner, or... Well, you understand, yes? But, please do not get upset, I merely... I need to ask you. I have heard that... Well, I do not know. I thought I heard that some of your people—" a turn of the phrase that, for once, clearly isn't referring to landfolk "—could... could grant wishes? Of, of... Well, I was just... curious."

The silence has stretched on for far too long for Amira to respond right away. Her mind's always unmoored like that, without anything to pull it to the here and now it drifts out into the open ocean. Everything she wants to see and feel and do in the world, all laid out in a web of infinite possibility.

The list is long, she's always adding to it.

Making her way back to the world is like drunkenly fumbling with her keys outside the door to her house-- stuck just outside where she's meant to be. Ironically enough, booze would make it a lot easier to snap back to reality, but she's stuck sober for now.

Amira gets there, eventually. Looks down at Miri with her too-small voice and becomes acutely aware she has none of the grace required to handle this, whatever it is. She's always been more of a closed fist than an outstretched hand, but none of that will help right now, so she has to try.

For Miri.

"Some of us can," she starts-- slow like how she talks to her little brothers when they're hurt and bawling after a dare gone wrong. "If they're the more magical types. Never met anyone that fit the bill, though. Been told it's possible and that there's a lot of caveats that come with it, but that's pretty much it."

#*coughs weakly* hi yes I'm here not dead #always feel bad for how inconsistent I am here lmao #but yes hi hi love you #royalreef #These thoughts; they never stop | Asks #No smoke without fire | IC