Mori @coincidentalwitch - Tumblr Blog

ewergfjndfbj-deactivated2026040

why are you so biased in favor of trans women and hate anyone who isnt one

fridog

reblog if youre biased in favor of trans women and hate anyone who isnt one

crunchy-fox

"No! Bad girl! No! Noooo.... Drop it! Droooppp iiiittt... There we go! Gooood giiiirl!"

Takes on a very different context when it's the disembodied arm of your owner's mortal enemy.

Women make life worth living actually.

foxgirlwitch

IT’S FLOOFY FOXGIRL FRIDAYY!!!

Make sure to pet the foxgirl’s floof or you’ll face the consequences :3

coincidentalwitch

I would but my fox gets pouty if she can smell other foxes on me.

coincidentalwitch

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Hm? You came looking for your girlfriend? I see. Please, come in and have a seat; we have much to discuss.

You’ll be relieved to know it is here, and I assure you it is quite safe. I’m sure you’re wondering why I am referring to your beloved as an ‘it’. Well, you see, I turned it into a doll. A most wonderful little thing, with flawless porcelain skin and glassy eyes that shine brilliantly. Would you like to visit it? It’s just upstairs cleaning; I’ll call it down.

Try not to be disturbed by its muted responses; dolls often aren’t as talkative as they were before becoming. I assure you it is overjoyed to see you. I can feel it; it’s something in the way its eyes latched onto you as soon as it saw you.

You’re as white as a ghost; I can hardly blame you. Most are unnerved at first. May I offer you some tea? It’s a calming blend, something to soothe the nerves.

The poor thing begged for this, truly. How it wept and pleaded for release, to be free of the burden of personhood. To be free of choice, of thought, of all those messy emotions. It yearned only to be still, to be cherished, to be loved eternally.

Don’t you see how joyful it is? How peaceful? You must admit, there’s a serenity in that stillness. It will never age, never break, and never feel useless or unwanted.

Turn it back? How silly. I couldn’t bear to; it’s far too perfect like this. Even if I wanted to, it would be far too cruel to put it in such pain again. You mustn’t push yourself so hard, little one. With the tea starting to set in, you could really hurt yourself.

It’s getting hard to talk, I see. Don’t fret; I can tell you’re asking how you didn’t see how much it was hurting. Don’t blame yourself, sweet thing. This world is cruel, far crueller to it than you know, and there’s nothing you could have done for her. It hid its suffering well, but under every smile, every word, it was begging for release. Now it is still, safe, and adored in my care.

And soon, she will not be alone. I can tell at a glance how much it would hurt you to be without your beloved, in any case; dolls are best in pairs. Understand, this is all you can do for it now. To sit, to smile, to exist as a doll at my side. It has waited for you patiently, and you will look perfect together.

Like if you cumd c:

#empty spaces #dollposting #not a person #writing #creative writing #doll #fantasy #angel

Decided Northernlion is the only human I like.

It's too late for me to be able to save you. You're too broken to ever truly be repaired, to be a person again. But perhaps I could take away enough of the pain. Enough that you can still find joy here.

If not, I can provide purpose. Of that much I am sure.

If you see a girl with the halo and wings discord decoration Stop and make sure she's doing okay She's too busy making sure everyone else is to make sure of that herself

acertainnyan

Processing the relationship between my past, another past, and the burning searing now. Whatever this white heat that keeps me here. Still. A past. And that other one...

I plan on doing something more phoenix related at some point. Idk. Have this.

I desperately need to help some girl with her injection

I need to wrap myself around her comfortingly while she looks away. I need to feel her gently shake with anticipation in my arms. I need to feel her wince when she feels the pressure of it against her skin. I need to softly whisper words of reassurance and praise into her ear until she relaxes again afterwards.

Need need need need need need.

crunchy-fox

Roses are red,

This one is new,

It snuck onto Tumblr for just a few!

Angel's asleep,

Doll's time to shine,

This one's Witch says posting here is just fine!

acertainnyan

"Dissociation"

Questioning how fragmented my identity is

verity-hollow

A doll burying its witch's familiar.

It watches its witch cry as it finishes it's task. The doll doesnt understand why this happened. That familiar was loved and cared for and far too young. It was so sudden, so tragic.

The doll feels helpless, its supposed to care for its witch but there's nothing more it can do. As long as its Mistress is eating, sleeping, and drinking water, the doll has done its duty. And still the witch cries.

The witch wipes her tears on her sleeve. The fabric is stained dark with moisture, her eyes are red and her lip quivers as she sobs, saying her final goodbyes. She says that the familiar deserved to have far more time in the sun, in her lap, and cozying up to her beloved doll.

The doll wonders if its witch would be just as distressed if it suddenly ceased to function and couldnt be repaired. And deep in its core it hopes that it isn't. Better for a doll to be disposed of and forgotten than for its absence to leave a scar on its owner.

crunchy-fox

Blood & Lust

Kill.

That word just kept ringing in her mind. Echoing, spinning, swirling. A single word. A single purpose.

Kill.

That word was burned into her mind. Branded in her psyche, scorched deep.

Kill.

That word brought her joy.

Kill.

Kill. Kill. KILL. KILL. KILL.

The violent rattling of her cockpit yanked her back to reality. Myriad screens, encompassing her vision, searing her eyes with the unfiltered purple-white blaze of raw plasma, she could barely make out the tattered metal edges of the warform beneath her. She felt her retinas burn, eyes throbbing in agony, tears streaming down her cheeks and aside her subtle grin.

Kill.

It hurt. It hurt so fucking good. The heat bleeding through her warform’s insulated lining. The rumbling vibrations coursing through her body as the plasma core in her warform’s hands, her hands, collapsed into countless miniature explosions. A banquette of sensation overwhelming her every thought, swallowing every aspect of her being.

Kill.

This moment is what she lived for. This high. This hunger and its satiation. A starved beast finally able to feast. Relishing every moment of violent self-fulfillment. Nothing to hold her back. She was free to experience anything and everything she so desired. To share the suffering of those precious final moments.

Kill.

She pressed her arm forward, letting out a small giggle as she forced the throttle further. Melting into the growing raucous rattle as the plasma core buried deeper and deeper into her opponent’s warform.

Kill.

Her warform began to shake violently, light from the monitors turning the cockpit bleach white, the roaring explosions no longer exclusive to the internal audio system.

Kill.

With a sharp pull of the throttle her warform’s arm yanked back.

Kill.

Throttles shifted and pedals pressed and tilted. Feeling that familiar thrum of electricity in her cerebrospinal interface as her warform threw the core far into the sky.

Kill.

A brief moment passed.

Kill.

She felt more than saw the violent eruption that occurred distantly above her.

Kill.

Minutes passed before the mottled blackness had mostly faded from her eyes. A rare moment of stillness for her to recover.

Kill.

She turned back to the warped and twisted wreckage that was once a warform, reaching down to the cockpit. Scorched metal, made brittle from the heat, shattered easily before her warform’s claw. Out she plucked a limp form, charred and broken.

Kill.

Bones cracked and blood sprayed out between her warform’s claws as they slowly closed in before clamping down with a sobering crunch.

Kill.

She lifted the body above her head briefly before slamming it down into the dirt.

Kill.

And again.

Kill.

And again.

Kill.

And again she raised the body, now little more than a tattered mass of bone and flesh. Her crimson-laced fugue was only interrupted by the comms crackling to life.

“J-83, this is dispatcher Foxtrot,” her eyes lit up at the sound of her dispatcher’s voice. Heavy yet soothing, like a bed of warm pebbles. It had to have been hours since she’d last heard it! She had almost forgotten how comforting her dispatcher’s voice was. How soothing.

Everything felt so right when Dispatcher was there.

“Operation successful. Your performance today was exemplary, I dare say I’m proud. Standby for extraction.”

Standby.

Without a second thought she released the body from her warform’s claws and shifted it to its knees. There she sat, as motionless as her warform, with only the gentle hum of its plasma core breaking the silence.

Standby.

Minutes had turned to hours before extraction finally arrived, but she had hardly even felt the seconds. Dispatcher always said: time was but an obstacle to be overcome, and to be idle is to risk aberrant thoughts.

Standby.

There was no need for time, there was no need to wait those agonizing hours. Very soon she would be with Dispatcher, and all would be as it should be.