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j2h5b5 · 1 year

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There was only one thing that could have dragged Steve out of bed at two in the morning when he was nursing a booze-induced headache and an Eddie Munson-induced heartache.

“We need you,” she said.

He didn’t even bother putting on a jacket.

***

Dustin was sloppy, red-eyed and so unsteady that when Steve thunked a strong hand down on his shoulder, he almost lost his balance turning away from the group of asshats he’d taken up with to see who had grabbed him. Some of the drink in his hand sloshed over the sides of the cup and dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the already filthy kitchen floor.

“Hey, what the—” he began, and then he dragged his gaze up to land on Steve.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when those same eyes would’ve lit up at the sight of his babysitter slash idol slash best friend. He would wrap him in a hug if it had been a day or two since he’d seen him, or sling a companionable arm around him, or punch him good-naturedly in the arm in hopes of initiating a play scuffle, which inevitably ended with him in a headlock getting his mop of curls aggressively tousled because he was just never going to have any kind of athletic edge on Steve.

But now.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the younger boy asked in a tone so sharp and cold and so very NOT-Dustin that it made Steve’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

“Hey, man,” Steve said, aiming for casual if only to keep Dustin from embarrassing himself in front of his new asshat friends. “Can I talk to you? Step outside with me for a sec, okay?”

“Um, no,” Dustin bit out. “This’s my party, i'ss my house. It would be rude to leave my guests.”

“Yeah, since you brought that up … who are these people?” Steve swept his gaze over the Henderson kitchen, which was almost unrecognizable with all of the clutter, displaced furniture, and wasted teenagers. “And Dustin … where’s your mom?”

“Not here.”

“Well yeah, I kind of gathered that. Listen, Dust…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are the others here?”

“Oh, you mean the traitors who called and ratted me out to YOU? Who the fuck cares?” His voice lowered to what he seemed to think was a conspiratorial level but was really just an extremely loud stage whisper. “Maybe they tripped and fell and landed their buzzkill asses back in the Upside Down.”

“Okay, that’s it.”

Before Dustin could protest, the cup was plucked from his hand and tossed expertly across the room, over the heads of several unwary drunken youths and into the crusty-dish-crowded sink and he was being towed along behind Steve through the kitchen, the living room, out the front door.

“What the fuck, Harrington? Let go of me! Let go!” Dustin struggled against the vise grip on his bicep but only succeeded in ensuring he’d probably have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow.

Steve paid him no mind until he had deposited the boy into the passenger seat of his car, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, unlocked it only long enough to get in, relocked it, and turned to Dustin.

“First of all,” he began loudly, drowning out Dustin’s sputtering attempts to find the words he wanted to hurl at Steve in his outrage at being manhandled out of his own party. “First of all. Joking about the Upside Down in a room full of strangers? NOT OKAY.”

“They don’t even know what—”

“Not. Fucking. Okay. SECOND, if you ever imply again that one of ours should BE in the Upside Down, you will find yourself with my foot so far up your ass you’ll choke on my shoe, and if you think I’m joking about that, Dustin, try me.”

This time there was only an eye-roll from Dustin, because he kind of didn’t want to try Steve on that point and because he kind of felt bad about saying it.

“Third, your friends are not traitors. They care about you and they’re worried about you; they called me for help because you’re treating them like shit and shut down every attempt they make to help you. Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, Dustin, but you have to let someone help you. You’re not okay, buddy. This isn’t you. And all this shit you’re doing, the drinking and the partying and the pretending not to give a damn? It isn’t going to fix anything. It … it won’t bring him back.”

“Shut up!” Dustin shouted, flinching so hard at the words that he smacked the back of his head against the side window. Steve winced at the sound of skull meeting glass and resisted the urge to reach out and check for blood, or a bump. Dustin seemed not to have noticed that he’d nearly brained himself, infusing his next words with all the venom he could muster. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Steve. Even if you were right, it’s none of your business what I do! I am none of your business.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Dustin. Of course you’re my business.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! What are you saying?”

Dustin barked out a humorless laugh. “As much as I’d like to sit here with you and have a heart to heart right now, I have to get back to my guests.”

“No,” Steve snapped, reaching over Dustin to slap down the peg lock when the teen yanked it up. “We’re not done here. Now I can go inside and clear out your house and we can talk there, or you can drop the bullshit and talk to me right now.”

“You’re not shutting down my party.”

“Then we talk here.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Right, sure you don’t. Maybe I can give you some words, then. How about this, Dustin? How about: ‘Hey, Steve, you useless idiot loser, you promised to keep us safe and then you fucked it all up like you always do. The plan didn’t work and Max got hurt and Eddie fucking died, and you couldn’t stop it. I hate you for that, for lying and making us feel safe and telling us it was going to be okay. I can’t even look at you anymore and I hate my friends because they don’t hate you for some reason, but we know, don’t we? We know whose fault it is that we came back a man short. It’s yours, Steve. Yours.’” Steve’s voice was cracked and painful, like he’d been eating gravel and chasing it with cheap whisky and cigarettes. It hurt, that voice. “How’s that, Dust?” he finished, staring unflinching into Dustin’s shocked eyes. “Am I in the ballpark?”

Before Steve could react, Dustin unlocked his door and flung himself out of the car. He was drunk and it was dark, though, and he only made it a few yards before tripping and landing hard on the grass. Steve was on him almost instantly, hauling him up by the arms and scanning him for injuries.

He didn’t see the punch coming, wouldn’t have believed Dustin Henderson capable of such an effective hit, right in the mouth, knocking him back a couple of feet. “Jesus, Dustin!” he shouted, touching his lip and staring dumbfounded when his fingers came away wet with blood. “What the fuck, man?”

“Hit me back.”

“What? No! Dustin, what’s—”

“HIT ME BACK, STEVE! You have to!” Dustin’s voice cracked, the sudden violent burst of emotion threatening to unleash something big and scary and unforgivable. A tidal wave that had a name.

Steve grappled wildly with the boy, trying to grab his flailing arms so he could pin him, but Dustin was surprisingly swift in his current state, and he launched another punch, this one landing heavy in Steve’s gut and socking the breath right out of him.

“HIT ME, STEVE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO, JUST DO IT!”

Fueled by a burst of frustration and a sharper burst of fear (what is this?), Steve recovered enough to trap Dustin’s arms against his body, using his own weight to twist the boy around until he was trapped with his back against Steve, the hold immobilizing him so all he could do was squirm and shout out his fury. “LET ME GO FUCK YOU STEVE WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT BACK YOU ASSHOLE?!”

“Dustin, stop. Stop it. Breathe, Dustin. Take a breath. No, hey, stop. You’re not going anywhere until you calm down for me. Breathe. Shhh, buddy. Breathe,” Steve’s hold was unbudging, his tone stern but soothing. Dustin’s violent struggles gradually slowed, and it took a couple of minutes for Steve to realize that the boy was shaking with silent sobs. And then the sobs became words, almost indecipherable in the wrecked, wretched voice that was rough and strained from screaming.

Every sentence Steve parsed from the stream of horrible self-accusations added another crack to his heart, which couldn’t have been more than a mess of spiderwebbing at this point.

It’s my fault.

He’s dead because of me.

I couldn’t save him.

You loved him, I know you did.

Why don’t you hate me?

Finally, finally, the words stopped and Dustin sagged, exhausted, in Steve’s arms. Only then did Steve ease up on his hold, but only long enough to turn the boy around and hug him properly. He bent down to bury his face in the unruly curls, his own tears falling unchecked and inconsequential.

“Dustin,” he whispered into the mop of hair. “Oh, Dustin, never.”

And when he realized he didn’t have the right words, he just stopped. He just picked Dustin up and carried him to his car, buckled him into the passenger seat, and told him he would be right back. He had a party to break up, some kids to chase away, and a boy—his boy—to mend.

“You loved him, I know you did.”

With a soul-cleansing breath that sounded more like a sob, Steve made his way back up to the Hendersons’ house.

#stranger things #found family #protective steve harrington #mama steve #dustin henderson #fanfiction #steddie #mom steve harrington #steve harrington #steve and his children #grieving over Eddie #survivor guilt #poor dustin #poor steve #unhealthy coping mechanisms #arm wrestling for the blame #angst #oh the angst #in my heart Eddie survived but this scene wouldn’t leave me alone

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estro-gem · 6 months

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Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.

Author's note: I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.

I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.

I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

WARNING! None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own. Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun! No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?

Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!

I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.

SUMMARY:

A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.

Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.

Please enjoy!

THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING

Jax was a desert snake.

Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.

When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.

It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.

Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.

Evil with a target: Jax.

It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.

Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.

But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.

Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.

They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.

Their precious water source.

Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.

Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.

Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.

He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.

Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.

When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.

Well, time for the key, then.

He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.

Silence.

Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.

He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.

He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?

The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.

Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?

Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.

Just Raggs.

She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.

If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.

Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.

Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?

Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?

If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.

Enough.

Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.

Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.

He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.

Evil with an actual target.

The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.

Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.

He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.

He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.

He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.

For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.

An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.

They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.

Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.

The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.

Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!

Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!

While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.

Bad touch, bad touch, bad-

This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.

Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.

He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.

Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.

Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.

Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.

It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.

Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.

Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.

The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.

The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?

Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.

This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.

Something so foreign, yet so familiar.

He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.

Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.

“Jax- ”

Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.

Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.

He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.

Yes.

DING DONG

In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.

His precious doll was disturbed again!

He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-

“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”

That DAMN jester!

“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.

“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.

Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.

“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”

Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.

“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”

She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.

Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.

He needed her.

The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.

Good riddance.

Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.

Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.

He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.

Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.

They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.

But there was always something, right?

Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.

Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.

This was survival.

The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.

Good, as it should be.

Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.

“See yah later, Doll~!”

He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.

“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.

Yes, she is… she always will be.

Fanart: Evil with a target

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

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forestshadow-wolf · 6 months

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Cw: implied homophobia, drinking and smoking as coping mechanisms, angst

Part 1 || Part 2

Soap was always so put together. Ghost always admired that, just a bit.

Which is why is was so shocking to see soap drunk off his ass, alone in the rec room, in the small hours of the night.

Ok, saying he was drunk off his ass was an overstatement, but he was clearly a bit further than buzzed. Didn't even acknowledge ghost when he walked, just continued idly running his finger around the rim of his glass, staring sightlessly into the amber liquid. Where he even got the bottle of scotch was a question ghost didn't bother to think on.

Ghost took it upon himself to situate himself next to soap, pressing his thigh into the scot's.

"How much have you had, Johnny?" He asked softly, something colored his voice that he didn't wish to look deeper into — that's why they worked. Soap toed the line between too much, and ghost let him, laughing it off when it circled too close, and soap always followed.

"Enough. I should pack it up." Soap said equally soft, solem, but he made no move to do so, simply continuing to cradle the glass between his hands. — so that's it, huh. That's how he stays so composed. He's self-aware. Maybe too much for his own good.

Soap pulled the cup up to his lips to take a sip of the warm liquid. Ghost's hands gently guided the glass out of his hands before it reached its destination. Soap let it happen. He still hadn't even glanced at ghost, and he was being unusually quiet. Ghost didn't like it.

They sat in silence for a moment.

Or ghost thought they did. Then a moment later he hears the flick of a lighter, and he turns his head to see soap lighting up a cigarette. Simon frowns behind his mask. Soap takes a delicate pull off the cigarette, and lets the smoke steam out of his mouth slowly. Still, it's like he's looking anywhere but ghost. It's like he's looking through ghost. Ghost sighs — he doesn't like this johnny. — his fingers automatically itch for a cigarette of his own, his body so used to sharing one with the man beside him. He doesn't. There's no real need for one at the moment, just a desire to share something.

"Tell me?" Ghost offers. It's gruff, and hardly sounds like a question at all, but an offer all the same.

Soap doesn't answer. He's eerily quiet. The only sound is their breathing, and the occasional pull of the one lone cigarette.

It's quiet for a long time. Ghost doesn't force anything, just sits with him. Then–

"My da's dyin'." It's small, quiet, as if saying it too loud will shatter whatever's in the air between them. "I should take some leave, be there... but... I won't." The cigarette's almost burned down to the but now. He takes one last drag off it, then snubs it out.

Simon stays quiet, letting johnny think, it's not his place to speak. It's not what Johnny needs right now.

"He'd be furious, I think. He'd tell me to go to hell, maybe in a few more words." Johnny chuckled darkly. "Mum will be devastated if I don't go. And my sisters will never forgive me if I'm not there — mum will though, she's too kind — but... I can't go." He said wistfully, the words come out slow — it's probably the alcohol — he spoke like he didn't know how to stop the words from coming out, and wasn't sure if he even wanted to stop them.

"Why not?" Simon prompted gently, he could almost see the words burning a hole in Johnny's throat.

"We can forget about this come morning, act like this never happened." Soap answered instead, like the words were stuck, but still seared with a need to come out. Or maybe it was the alcohol making him hare-brained

"Johnny..." It was soft, too soft. Soap laid his head on his arms and began tracing formless shaped on the table with his finger.

"... haven't seen him in over a decade, and he was so... angry then. He caught me an- an a boy..." the words seemed to get caught in his throat. "Barely even let me pack my bags before shipping me off. He was so nice before... before he knew. He was so amazing. I always thought I'd be like him when I grew up." Johnny's eyes were wet now, instead of the eerie dryness from before, but that's all it was, no tears. "I should see him one more time for that at least... but I won't. I-..."

"Johnny." Ghost felt like he was intruding, he was seeing something he wasn't meant to see. But johnny plowed on.

"I-... but I don't think I can- that- that I'll-... I don't know h-how I'll survive if- if he tells me to- to go to hell or- or t-to get dead again. I can't- I can't do it again." Johnny's voice shook as he spoke, and the words seemed to trip and stumble uneloquently from his lips.

He seemed to burn out after that, and it was so quiet, like they'd gotten sucked into space. Or maybe it was just simon who was in space, and Johnny was cast adrift in the ocean. He didn't know.

"Lets get you to bed, Johnny." The words were gentle, pillowed in all the corners. Johnny let himself be guided easily, searching for any kind of life raft.

#tw drinking #tw smoking #unhealthy coping mechanisms #implied homophobia tw #implied death #sad john 'soap' mactavish #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #el rambles

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honeypleasejustkillme · 1 year

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yeaa i know they’re not healthy but they keep me afloat so whatever

#actually bpd #actually mentally ill #bpd shitposting #actually borderline #bpd fp #bpd #bpd vent #bpd favorite person #bpd problems #bpd mood #bpd memes #unhealthy coping mechanisms #oopsie #it is what it is man #i be looking at the red flags in my coping mechanisms like they’re candy instead of red flags..

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zombie-eats-world · 3 months

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Yall can we talk about how chilling it was for Angel to take a deep breath and immediately slip back into his flirty confident persona while his regular music clicked on. Like watching him just lock himself behind ten walls of protective aggressive flirting just made my heart sink.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #unhealthy coping mechanisms

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whump-kia · 7 months

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talk codependency to me. caretaker overcome with adrenaline and panic and fear when whumpee is out of their sight, grabbing their face and frantically looking them over to ensure they're alive, even if they've been gone for two minutes. a whumpee who could handle the worst of torture and only breaks when they threaten caretaker, spilling everything, begging, pleading, for whumper to leave them be. caretaker who goes feral when whumpee is in danger. whumpee who can't even blink without caretaker in the room. they sleep back to back, breathing matched, one eye locked on the door and ready to obliterate anything that dares threaten the other.

#whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump community #kidnapping tw #torture tw #codependency #unhealthy coping mechanisms #codependency cw #specifically in siblings. something about siblings. it really hits right in the heart.#tropes that in real life are so so unhealthy but in fiction are the most delicious things on earth

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pleaseignoretheseposts · 8 months

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one of the things i love about bea is that she is so mean, especially at the start of the game, but she still goes out of her way to do the kind thing. it's like a small rebellion. she's pissed at so many things - and she is so justified - but they're out of her control. the most power she can exert in her life is not just feeling anger, but actively expressing it.

sometimes, it's hard to acknowledge difficult situations. if you pretend it's all fine and normal, if you lean into hope, that's great. but bea shows that if you can't muster hope, you can muster motivation through anger.

it's kind of like harm reduction. if you're doing two negative activities, do the one that is least harmful. bea could cling to hope, or she could cope with rage. it's difficult to lean into hope after all that she's experienced, and the letdown of any expectation at this point might kill her, so she's using open rage to cope with her situation.

but despite open rage, she is not a mean person. she tears the shit out of mae on the way home from the party, but then walks her up to her room and puts her in bed. and she calls her mayday, even thought she knows mae won't hear or remember.

meanness and anger is how she copes, but it isn't who she is. and at least for now, if she can't cling to hope, she can cling to the idea that she is still capable of kindness. her life is not 100% coping. yet.

#night in the woods #nitw #nitw mae #nitw bea #nitw angus #nitw gregg #nitw germ #nitw analysis #i'm projecting #unhealthy coping mechanisms #i hope this makes sense #i'm high as hell

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 1 month

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Abandonment Issues, prologue (pt2) (pt1 here!)

(sorry that its only two pages i have been having a rough time lately but i wanted to prove that i havent forgotten abt this, at the very least hhhfh im going to work on it more often i promise)

#bones of a rabbit #comic #abandonment issues #fnaf au #fnaf comic #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf sun/moon x y/n #fnaf moon x y/n #doodles #sketches #tw abandonment #glitched sun/moon #unhealthy coping mechanisms #abandonment issues prologue #prologue #bones of a rabbit au #comic pages

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 9 months

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Whump Prompt #1193

Anon asked:

Whumpee is kidnapped and replaced with a doppelgänger. Any ideas for some small behaviours that hint to the caretaker that something is off?

Sure:

Not liking favourite foods/songs.

Dressing differently (”You always wear your [item of clothing]” “I’m just not feeling it today.”)

At first the caretaker thinks they’re sick.

They have a slightly different mannerism - they’re biting their nails more/running their hand through their hair/tapping on things etc

Maybe they sleep more/less

What if they have decent habits.

^ So like, they sleep eight hours, have decent meals at reasonable times, and don't try and take the entire workload for themselves.”

^ Caretaker has to sit down the when doppelganger asks for help.

^ “You- you want help?” “Yeah, I mean there's a lot to do for just me on my own.”

The doppelganger isn’t nearly as argumentative too.

For some time, the caretaker almost likes the ease of living the doppelganger brings, but when all is revealed, the caretaker has a sense of guilt for feeling this way - especially if the whumpee is a little banged up from the ordeal.

#doppleganger #whump #writing #prompts #ideas #angst #unhealthy coping mechanisms

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sunnysideprincess · 6 months

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Steve running until he can't anymore. Chest and feet burning. His lungs feeling like they'd collapse

Natasha dancing until her feet are bleeding, her arms are shaking and her vision is swimming

Clint shooting arrows after arrows until his fingers are cut on the strings or he just can't feel his skin anymore

Bucky wrecking punching bags until he thinks he can feel the phantom pain of his left arm getting chopped off

Sam doing the most dangerous free fall dives with the suits, trying to feel closer to Riley

Tony taking the suit to dangerous new heights (to space), or dangerous new lows (to ocean)

Thor letting himself feel the burn of thunder, getting struck one two three however times it takes to know the hurt

Bruce sinking down to the bottom of the pool and sitting there calmly until he feels the acidity of water entering his lungs, until Hulk bursts out and spends the next week hiding under the skin of Bruce Banner

Just—Avengers and their unhealthy coping mechanisms

#avengers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #clint barton #tony stark #sam wilson #thor odinson #bruce banner #tw: self harm #unhealthy coping mechanisms

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enslavedheart · 11 months

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Toxic relationship where we both emotionally manipulate each other until we're both so mentally fucked up we can't live without each other>.<

But also a sacred relationship where we both worship one another and heal each of our past traumas together and become each others savior<3

#i need both #bpd fp #yandere #irl yandere #yandere boy #yandere boyfriends #mlm yandere #unhealthy coping mechanisms #lovesick #loveletterstoghost♡

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estro-gem · 6 months

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Jax x Gangle (Situation-ship): Raptors and Reptiles

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's note: Thank you all who showed your support for my previous fanfic! I didn't expect people to actually enjoy it, but I'm not complaining at all. You all made me blush like crazy! I'm really flattered.

Welcome to the Gangle-centred fic! These events happens after those of the previous oneshot, but you don't really need context for it to still make sense.

This story is a little less of a series of events and a little more of a descriptive narrative - definitely not everyone's cup of tea - but at least you get to see unhinged Gangle, I guess... And a little bunnydoll is sprinkled in there too....Maybe a speck of Zooble x Gangle to wrap it all in a nice little bow.

Ths fanfic is very much a situation-ship, instead of a romantic ship. I love the concept of Jax x Ragatha too much to break it in this AU. We are all free to ship whoever; we are all here to have fun!

I hope didn't make too many distracting mistakes in the grammar.

Warnings: Angst, easy on the fluff. All characters and the story of The Amazing Digital Circus belong to Gooseworx!

SUMMARY:

Gangle meets Jax in the hallway right after his long visit to Ragatha. It's been a hard day with a new face arriving so suddenly and Jax looks a little worse for wear.

One look at Gangle's face was enough to have him on edge again.

Please enjoy!

RAPTORS AND REPTILES

In the desert, there is a bird that, despite their wings and the ability to hunt mid-flight, nests beneath the very ground.

The burrowing owl.

It’s small, it’s quick, and it’s silent. The Amazing Digital Circus was a desert, inhabited by characters who banded together to form their own paradise. It was far from flawless, but together, they made a desolate hell into an inhabitable home.

The owl was fleeing back to its burrow after stalking the delicious fresh meat that graced them with their arrival earlier that day. The new arrival was known as Pomni and she had unfortunately proven to be a nuisance to their beloved Ragatha. Minutes prior to the raptor’s flight to her burrow, she spotted the jester loudly blubbering from the hall while standing just outside the ragdoll’s door. She can only imagine Ragatha’s face upon hearing Pomnni’s voice frantically try to apologize.

Of course, Ragatha wouldn’t let the jester in so soon; just as the owl suspected. Pomni had a lot to learn and a lot to prove before she was going to be accepted. The soft sobs that the burrowing owl had heard from Pomni’s mouth, before walking through her new room's door, gave enough of a clue for the raptor to find that the jester seemed to realize that.

But that was enough spying – she had a burrow waiting for her.

“We really need to get you a bell.”

Gangle halted at the sound of Jax’s voice. She was almost startled by it since she just passed his door without hearing it open next right to her. His voice came from further down the hall. Based on the today’s event’s, the petite character could easily deduce that the male paid a nice, long visit to Ragatha. She had the suspicion that he would, but it was nice to receive confirmation.

When Gangle turned around, she almost missed how he stiffened in alarm.

Jax’s smug expression was fixed, and he seemed to be the personification of ‘unbothered,’ but she knew better. When it came to one’s headspace or emotion, she always knew better – call it a blessing from being born with 2 faces.

Jax was deeply disturbed, but he wouldn’t show it. It was understandable, she thought to herself. Today was a rough day and they had fresh meat to worry about. The ribbonoid girl suffered greatly under the brutal bullying of Jax, with tears practically staining cheeks by the end of it all. She should’ve been broken down and crying. Jax was prepared to see her sulk until the following morning, but he wasn’t prepared for her to present as she had in her current state.

Jax wasn’t prepared to be faced with Gangle’s bright smile.

“Someone has a pep in their step.” He quipped sarcastically, “One wouldn’t be able to say that you spend the entirety of the day with tears streaming down your face.”

It didn’t matter how easily Jax was able to fool everyone. Sure, it wasn’t all a simple façade; he really did enjoy being the menace that would ruin anyone’s day, but to call him incapable of caring would be a crime. The snake struck because it was his role – his nature – and the snake was arguably the most dedicated to his role in the oasis.

She saw the rabbit shift into a wider stance as he suddenly took extreme interest in one of his now torn gloves. Gangle didn’t notice that little detail before – something must’ve gotten his skin. Him reacting the way he did, meant that he was immeasurably uncomfortable.

Something within her shifted. If anything, the sight of his torn gloves and the fact that he just left Ragatha’s room, prompted the burrowing owl to come out of its shelter.

She suddenly craved the meat of a reptile.

“I was crying all day…” Gangle slowly took a step forward. She wanted to see him squirm a bit more before she struck her talons into him, “No thanks to you, of course…”

“What can I say? My theatrics tend to bring people to tears.” Jax kept up his aloof demeanor. He didn’t seem to quite catch on to what had her ribbons in such a twist. All he could do in the meantime, was suppress the shudder that crawled up his back while witnessing Gangle’s positively, unsettling smile.

It’s one of the only ways she could express anger, after all. It was bone-chilling.

“Judging by the state of you gloves and your previous whereabouts,” the girl used her head to motion to the door behind Jax, as he did his best to block her view of it, “I’m assuming that you were responsible for tears other than mine, yes?”

THUMP

Now that did it.

Jax was so adorable when he lost his temper. Being the only ‘animal’ in the circus, Jax tended to revert to his feral instincts when he was overcome with emotion. Gangle always found it so queer.

“Cut the crap.” Jax spat, averting his gaze in embarrassment, before glaring back sternly, “I didn’t do anything to her. I wouldn’t!”

“Your outburst doesn’t support your case, Bunny~” her voice chimed smoothly as Gangle’s smile stretched inhumanly wide in response. She knew just how to drive into her personalized predatory charms. As a burrowing owl, it’s impossible to believe that Gangle was above anything. She spent most of her time stalking underground, below their feet. Unnoticed, until she revealed herself.

And reveal herself she did.

“You know that only I do what I have to do – nothing more!” Jax’s grin widened in kind, like a snake baring his fangs as he poised to strike. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, “Our little dolly needed some special attention. Since you were M.I.A. I bit the bullet. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Gangle’s eyes narrowed to slits, “I dealt with Caine to get my mask fixed. He drew it out more than necessary. I was about to pay Ragatha a visit before I saw you slip into her room.”

“And you figured that 2 is compony and 3 is a crowd, right?” His sarcasm never let up, even when he was rattled by her unwavering gaze.

“We both know that you just loved every minute you had with our sweet Ragatha…” Gangle leaned in closer, until she was too close for comfort. She intended to bait Jax into losing himself. If he did, she could take it… until she could wrap her ribbons around him as restraints. She would scream for someone to help; to check on Ragatha. Until then, she needed him to give her reason to do so, “Want me to believe that it's a chore for you to manhandle your doll?”

“Want me to wipe that smile off your face, Ribbons?”

Silence.

Tension.

Feral looks that could kill.

All, but no violence. No claws or teeth. Jax was perfectly composed, despite being as disheveled as he was. Yes, the rabbit was on edge and oozing with anger and frustration, but I kept his hands to himself, and his claws retracted. He only displayed his wide, feral smile – inches away from Gangle’s face. The snake’s threat display.

That was all Gangle needed to calm her racing mind.

Jax was still sane and merely acting within his role. Nobody got hurt, despite Jax having felt the need to bare his claws at some point this evening. A wave of relief washed over her as she allowed herself to pull back and deflate her stance.

No need for talons to sink into snakes tonight.

Jax drew back as well, mirroring her stance. Gangle could see his eyes soften slowly, upon realization that she was just fulfilling her role as his was fulfilling his. Unbeknownst to the ribbinoid, Jax heart swelled as the moment lingered. He felt the urge to display his appreciation to Gangle for wanting to protect their Ragatha.

Their precious water spring.

Sure, he was offended that she would think him capable of even thinking of harming the ragdoll, but it was the sentiment that won him over. Gangle was the raptor with the bird’s eye view, after all.

She poked and prodded; she searched and tracked for anything and any sign of Jax falling out of line. The masked girl’s mind was racing and calculating, as she was assigned to; with a brilliant mind such as her own. A certain gleam in Jax gaze had Gangle deduce that his mind was called back to a fond memory of them, operating in sync.

Maybe back to when Gangle first arrived in the circus…

Since no one could remember anything before entering The Amazing Digital Circus, Gangle considered her memories to be precious. She was prone to cling to as many as she could.

Her memory was actually brilliant. The mess of ribbons she was, with nothing more than a mask for a head, would leave one thinking that Gangle’s mind was as empty as the space behind her mask was, but her memory was practically photographic. Every shift, every twitch, every mannerism and every micro-expression along with the extensive description of what it all meant – enabled Gangle to easily read and understand her peers.

She could practically read their minds with a single glance.

She’d recall almost anything to the finest detail, but no one needed to know that. It didn’t concern them… and being frail and weak in stature, means that her mental ability was her greatest strength.

Her only strength.

She could still precisely recall her arrival in this forsaken hellscape.

When she first arrived in the digital realm, she ripped off her comedy mask – thinking that it was her headset that she put on moments before.

However, instead of escaping the new virtual reality that she ungracefully stumbled into, she was just overwhelmed with an undeniable sense of dread and sorrow. The negative emotions brought her to her knees as she scrambled to maintain her grip on the smiling mask. Back then, she didn’t know that it was just because of her tragedy mask fronting. It wasn’t until she saw herself in the mirror, when she could fully comprehend her masks’ ties to her emotions.

Ragatha remained by her side throughout her first day, gently providing a safe space for Gangle to breathe. She did her best to shoo away the chaos that always possessed the tent, whether it be the NPC's the Caine cooked up for them or the other's curious, prying eyes. Gangle couldn't voice it then, but the doll was her saving grace.

They all thought that the ribbinoid wouldn’t last a week.

It felt like hours as Gangle sat in front of that mirror, wearing and removing the respective masks… growing used to the internal waves of emotions that ebbed and flowed from joy to sorrow. It was uncanny how she could feel an indescribable, undeniable joy in the most unfortunate circumstances.

A part of her wanted to believe that she had already lost her mind... but she could never experience the full range of emotions all at once. Maybe, for that reason, Gangle held out for so long.

Maybe she couldn’t abstract, no matter how hard she tried to.

Can one experience a mental breakdown if you already had 2 heads?

One mask would always nullify the other – and that, in itself, was Gangle’s own personal hell. As time progressed and days went by, she’d wear her comedy mask for the kick of it. A close friend abstracted? She’d pop that bad boy on and revel in the horrified faces of her fellow inhabitants as she laughs and smiles like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

That little trick had even brought Jax to unadulterated unease.

She was addicted to the control she had in her self-expression, as it was the only control she believed to have at the time. A smile amidst that tragedy. It drove everyone around her to the brink of insanity. She apparently left them to question the urgency and distress of the ones they lost by the day, but that only had her bursting with uncontrollable cackles.

Nothing mattered anyway.

Everything was so much funnier and lighter with her comedy mask – a high she couldn’t live without at the time. Upon having it broken by Jax for the first time, forced a tsunami of the pent-up negativity to crash into her being. The bunny presumably couldn't stand another minute of living with the girls cold, chilling smile.

This was when Gangle realized that any of her emotions were banked until she wore the relevant mask to let them out.

It was a never-ending dive from the previous high.

Once she recovered after days of crying, screaming, and wailing in fear, agony and sorrow, she accepted and welcomed the bitter melancholy of her existential crises. For the first time since she woke up in the digital world, Gangle found comfort in sadness.

And she realized her need for Jax.

He was the panic button she needed but didn’t always want. He was happy to bask in her tears. She knew that he would be on the prowl to hunt her down, desperate to still the ever-growing hunger he had; to be the greater evil. Gangle would always welcome him with open arms, because in the end, she couldn’t trust herself anymore. She needed her friends.

Because without them, she would turn to that undeniable happiness once again – and she would lose herself in it. This was the very beginning of Jax’s new role of ‘snake’ and her new role of ‘owl.’

Jax and his charming, fiendish stunts operated the groundwork by biting everyone in an attempt to be the occupational hazard. Gangle and her bird’s eye view could oversee it all and silently direct or divert Jax to and from suitable victims. She was the only one who could unnerve the bunny into having him take someone seriously. She was the only one whose eyes and mind he could trust when reading into their behavior. The owl snatched the snake who carelessly parades his antics.

On the other hand, Jax was the only one that could read her state of managing her… ‘addiction.’ He was the only one who would dare bash into her shield – her comedy mask - because the snake strikes the owl weighing heavy with neglect of self-reflection.

Two predators with each other as prey.

Gangle blinked to find Jax searching for something in her expression. Even though their dispute was quietly resolved, Jax still seemed to be bothered by something. The girl made quick work to figure out what it could be – starting with today’s events.

He took such good care of her, Zooble and Kinger today.

This day was stressful and disorienting with Pomni’s arrival. Gangle felt the phantom urge to reach for her comedy mask; her smiling shield of denial. By some devine intervention, her mask was broken due to unfortunate circumstances and without her consent or control. At least, when Jax broke it, it was because it was her choice to plead for his intervention with her eyes – desperate not to fall into old, destructive habits again.

Today, her mask broke, because of her clumsiness.

Her mistakes.

Luckily, Jax was quick to fix that! He purposefully stepped onto it, effectively rubbing salt into the fresh wound. Suddenly, it was him that was the problem! Yes, he didn’t need to do that - that was just evil!

The greater evil – the menace.

Throughout the day, Jax kept them under his heel and stomped on them for good measure. The day’s stress and uncertainty regarding the arrival of Pomni and some fake exit door was gradually drowned by Jax’s antics, and they all fell into routine once again. It was a crying shame that Ragatha had to suffer alone. If only they could’ve done something more…

Something clicked.

Gangle paid attention to Jax’s face again. He looked so tired, but desperate all the same. The masked girl blinked again and suddenly she knew exactly what he needed. What he yearned for.

He needed to see that he’d done enough.

...

With slow movements, Gangle reached for the edges of her comedy mask and removed it from her face. Jax fixed his gaze on her current, sad expression and found no suddenly overflow of tears, no uncontrollable sobbing and no screaming. It was just Gangle’s calm, sad, yet content expression staring back at him. There was no repressed emotion for her to show.

“You asked me if I want you to wipe the smile off of my face...” Gangle spoke, voice wobbly due to her sad expression, “It’s not necessary, I don’t need to be smiling to be ok.”

Jax eyes widened by a fraction, but that was all she needed to understand that he was truly surprised, as if he didn’t expect her to really be content and coping.

She gave a bitter smile; the friendliest one she could muster on her tragedy mask, “You won’t see me crying, though. You’ve already done enough of that today.”

You’ve already done enough.

To an outsider, Gangle's words would sound bitter and petty, but with the way she looked at him, she wanted Jax to feel nothing but reassurance.

You've done enough.

Gangle wasn’t surprised to see Jax stare at her in disbelief, but she was surprised to see sudden, spontaneous tears sprout from his eyes. She almost missed it with how quickly he ripped away his gaze. She couldn’t say or do anything fast enough, before Jax swung around and ripped Ragatha’s door open, entered, then throw it shut just as fast. The ribbinoid stood awestruck in the silent hallway.

She wasn’t upset; she felt honored.

She’d savor this moment until the day she’d abstract, like so many of them had before her. Brief worry flashed in her mind, but it dissipated upon looking at Ragatha’s face on the door. Jax was where he needed to be at this very moment. Although she couldn’t hear Jax sobbing into his arms as he sat against the door with his knees brought to his chest, she was sure that his doll sat right next to him.

Even though Ragatha would be tired and drained after today’s events, she would always make room for someone in need to wash away their sorrow in her clean water.

Knowing the doll, Gangle could only guess that Ragatha ended up eavesdropping on their whole encounter - biding time before splashing into action once things got too heated.

Gangle loved Ragatha for that.

She turned slowly, still dumbstruck and touched by what she had witnessed from Jax and then walked down the hall without a worry in the world. Maybe she will pay her beloved Zooble a visit before retiring for the night. She'd love to let her guard down.

She'd love for something to wrap around.

Gangle looked down at her comedy mask, smiling at her. It felt like a warm, welcoming smile... and she couldn’t help but feel content.

She didn’t feel like wearing a smile anyway.

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

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