#haphephobia tw

[erenozturk]

setting: during the trust falls activity

featuring: eren öztürk & amrita singh @dvsconocvdo

A dribble of sweat rolled from the base of his neck, down past the collar of the bomber jacket he wore, and Eren tried unsuccessfully to brush it away with a gloved hand. It was hot — but of course it was. It was nearly mid-July, the middle of a sunny day, and the entire town was huddled into an outdoor space to go through trust fall exercises. No thank you, it had almost left him so fast he must have sounded ruder than normal. Please, no thank you. He limited his touch to very specific instances — predominantly the times he was required to do so for work, grateful for when the ability to touch objects to witness what he needed to could take the place of another’s hand. But outside of those rare moments? Eren didn’t touch anyone. Not even his dog. The idea of touching someone made his skin crawl, brought back trauma he had carried with him throughout the majority of his life, and stunted him. He couldn’t function much under the fear, the heart palpitations, the quickened breath, the anxiety gripping him. So he passed, as politely as he could, tucking himself away on the sidelines to watch time and time again as people fell back and either were caught, or plummeted to the ground.

He didn’t understand how this was supposed to build trust. To him, whether or not someone would catch him didn’t tell him whether or not they were trustworthy — if someone touched him, he’d consider it an instant red flag. Then again, he wasn’t sure he’d done a trust fall exercise before. Maybe not since he was a lot younger. Before that night, before the hole, and everything that awoke in him. Decades ago, lost in a life that he would never have back. He dismissed the memory, the thoughts, once more swiping at sweat on his brow with a gloved hand. Content to be alone there, except the sun was a bitch and a spot of shade would be nice if he would be forced to watch this display all afternoon. So he moved to a shady patch of grass beneath a tree, sinking against said tree with a deep and contented sigh. It was only after he settled that he realized Amrita was also leaning against the tree. He acknowledged her with a soft nod of his head. “Not participating, either?” He knew he wasn’t alone. Cece barely participated, and Eren thought he heard her brother’s hushed concerns of illness as the culprit, and he didn’t think Kui was doing it either. He supposed it was nice, to know he wasn’t alone in his dysfunction. “I thought you were too pleasant to actually be trustworthy,” he tried his hand at a joke, the lilt in his tone portraying it was all just in amusement.

[strawberrus0da]

How to develop a touch phobia

[voidzphere]

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[icycoldninja]

Can u write the DMC men with a reader with haphephobia? It’s the fear of being touched or touching

The boys always initiate the physical touches but never the reader as she’s always reluctant to even return the gesture by awkwardly patting their back, patting their cheeks weakly and never seems to initiate kisses as it’s always one sided. This saddens them because they thought the reader doesn’t love them but that change when one night before they slip into sleep, she brushes their hair strand as she kisses their forehead

This is the only time she actually initiate some form of physical touches with them so one night, they pretend to go to sleep, waiting for her to do that again before asking her why

Turns out not only she’s painfully awkward and shy to the point the thought of initiating such things makes her feel embarrassed for herself, it’s also because in a large part of her childhood, her parents never initiate physical touches so that feeling feels incredibly foreign to her. It also stems from her low-self esteem; the fact that touches makes her feel overwhelmed and unpleasant because of sensory issues. It also does not help when she got jumped by devils all the time from the back, which can explain why the fastest way to get knocked out, is to suddenly hug her from behind, triggering her PTSD and anxiety

I most certainly can! Enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Haphephobic!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante is a big hugger, so he's always trying to touch you in one way or another.

-You hardly ever reciprocating his efforts make him rather sad. Was he doing something wrong? Not doing enough, perhaps?

-He doesn't want to upset you by invading your personal space, but he needs kisses! Why won't you give him kisses?!

-He finds out that your reluctance isn't because of something he's doing, it's because of your past. Those little moments when you play with his hair while he's supposedly asleep mean the world to him now.

-He asks you why you do this eventually; your response turns out to be even darker than he thought. A lack of physical contact in your early years plus low self esteem was a bad combination. Time to fix that.

-He doesn't rush things, but Dante tries to incorporate some form of light contact into everything you do together, stopping if you start to panic. He wants to help you, but he knows to stop when you get overwhelmed.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil has never been a very touchy person, so you being the same came as no surprise to him.

-Still, he does appreciate cuddles every now and then, and was sorely disappointed when you wouldn't initiate them.

-He decided not to bother you about it and just carried on with his life, when one day, when insomnia got ahold of him, he discovered you often played with his hair at night.

-This had to be the only time you ever touched him willingly. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. He let you continue for a few weeks, blissfully ignorant to his secret observations, before finally asking why you hardly ever touched him save for when he was asleep.

-You were a bit taken aback when you learned he knew, but decided to reveal the truth anyway. You had issues with physical contact because you just weren't used to it, and you had several harrowing experiences with demons in the past, so you liked to keep your guard up.

-Vergil understood, and leaves you to your devices because he knows that someday you'll be comfortable enough to touch him on your own.

□ Nero □

-Nero doesn't get why you're so physically closed off, but he knows enough to not bother you.

-Maybe once in a while he'll give you a peck on the cheek or something like that, but not much else since he knows it bothers you.

-At some point, he awakens in the middle of the night, only to find you sweeping strands of hair away from his face. That's adorable, he thinks, as he falls back asleep.

-A little later, he decided to inquire about this apparent habit of yours since it's the only time you ever willingly touch him.

-You reply with a rather blunt statement explaining your haphephobia and where it comes from.

-Concerned for you and sympathetic to your pain, Nero wants you to let him know if you need anything, no matter how silly you might think it is. He won't force you to hug him or anything, always asks before he touches you, and makes sure to comfort you in ways that don't require touches.

● V ●

-V only tries to cuddle and hold you all the time because he wants to show his love for you.

-Your constant refusals make him sad, but if this is what you want, he won't stop you.

-He mopes about it a lot, but tries not to let it show whenever you're around. Griffon tries to cheer him up, but Griffon isn't you. Only you can help him.

-Accidentally waking up at night and discovering you gently pushing his hair away from his supposedly slumbering face made his night. It showed that there was hope after all--that you weren't going to physically isolate yourself forever.

-A few months ago, he decided to ask you why you behaved the way you did. Your response was heartbreakingly tragic, but it made V realize he was being a bit selfish.

-From then on, he no longer moped. You love him with all you are, that much has been proven; your reluctance to hold him is something personal, something you must deal with yourself. He can only guide you along that healing path.

[aiylabaysal]

She suddenly awoke with a startling yelp that left her lips quickly in a rush of air as if she were gasping for a long lost breath. She reached out towards who had woken her, her fingers brushing Eren's skin, nearly sinking against his body for the comfort of human reality before her brain suddenly caught up and the realization of who had woken her truly settled in. Aiyla pulled her hand back as if she had dipped it into flames and realizing quickly her mistake. The apology was on her lips her eyes scanning him for signs he was angered by her careless slip of her digits but something else distracted her before the words could form. She noticed his gloveless hands first and knew with out a doubt that he had also been sleepwalking. There was no need to see the rest of him. She ascertained this wasn't a coincidence and leaned towards it being a result of the eclipse. A question she could stow for the moment. The present was more pressing and Aiyla found herself unable to tear her eyes from the smothering panic that had brought him to his knees. She watched his turmoil unfurl the sight painfully stealing her breath to witness such visceral and aching suffering. Concern stitched her features in crossing shadows and with no concern for herself she dropped to her knees. Wings folding flat at her back quivered on impact. Rough pavement stung her knees, ignoring the bite of cement she leaned forward, bracing her palms on the ground before her, leaving a safe distance between them.

Ducking low to try and meet his hidden gaze Aiyla imagined what he would want and regretted she knew little of such things. She wanted to be let in if only to momentarily fill the space between his panic and help lead him back to himself. Her heart constricted at the sight of him and her breaths were short and controlled while she constructed a quick plan. Every atom wanted to wrap her arms around him, an innate desire to meet the crisis with the connection. She knew better, she could not bring him solace with her touch, so Aiyla crafted an illusion casting them in sunshine and warmth. It was a trick of her fae magic but it was something she could give and craft as needed. Desperate her palms patted the ground roughly, "Eren." She said his name firmly, "I'm awake." She assured, "You're okay." She whispered breathlessly. Her fingers curled into the concrete, birds sang, sun-warmed, and cast them into some semblance of a safe place unshadowed by the eclipse. "It's just the eclipse." She shuddered, concern heavy as she kept herself low. She would not touch him breech that space that so violently warped his ideas of touch and tarnished what it could be in dire straights. The loss of that instinct of touch did not mean they could or should be robbed of connection there was other ways to reach someone that did not require hands or any touch she could dream up. Decidedly, Aiyla uncurled her lithe frame on the pavement, her knees scrapped and blooming with bruises as she stretched out to lay facing him with her cheek pressed against the ground, as low as she could get. "Eren." She spoke his name quietly, "You need to open your eyes. See for yourself where you are. It's not there." She wasn't sure where there was, only that he'd been mentally pulled into this damned place that was making a mess of his mind. Aiyla swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled her hands under her body, clasping her fingers together, a visual promise he wasn't in danger of being touched.

"Look around," she urged quietly. “It's a day—a beautiful day—and we're just on the street together." She continued explaining and furthered the illusion to make it appear as if gloves covered his hands as usual. "I promise." She managed to get the words out, ignoring the unyielding concrete pressing into her body using all her mental fortitude to hold the illusion flawlessly in place.

Sleepwalking was just another in a daunting list of fears Eren kept hidden behind sullen stares and disassociation. It wasn’t so much the act, or the fear of hurting himself, it was the fear of being jolted awake by some stranger, their grubby bare hands on him. He didn’t like being touched, and he only allowed it during deeply necessary interactions. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he willingly touched another person outside of a professional capacity… the fear of unwanted touch lingered in him always. Padding down the streets of Lunar Cove, he wanted nothing more than to disappear into the solace of his home. He was fortunate that it wasn’t a stranger to wake him from his sleepwalking that day. No, it was the poking and prodding, followed by the low growling and eventual nipping of a Dobermann Pinscher who dutifully followed his aimless fae father out the door what must have been a short time ago. If only Hardy had snapped at him sooner, then maybe Eren wouldn’t be walking barefoot down the sidewalk, wearing a tank top and boxer briefs and not much else. No armor to protect him, not even his treasured gloves. His bare fingers shook where they sat on his biceps, hugging himself as he walked along, Hardy trotting happily at his side. If it weren’t for the dog he’d have taken flight, but Hardy couldn’t follow him into the sky. “We’re almost home, it’s okay… nobody will stop you, nobody will touch you,” he breathed repeatedly to himself, a mantra to calm the rapid beating of his frantic heart. But it did little to soothe his deep rooted anxiety.

It wasn’t far now, just a few blocks before he’d see the familiar neon sign of the Tower Treasure Detective Agency, and Eren was ready to book it the moment it would come to view. He was so singularly focused on making it home, he almost missed the whines and growls of his canine friend. It wasn’t until the dog let out a rumbling bark that Eren spun on his bare heels in Hardy’s direction. “Quiet, boy, we’re almost home now, what could be…” He trailed off as his eyes followed the line of the dog’s sight to a familiar figure ambling aimlessly in the street. “Aiyla?” He called out, unsure at first that it was the other banshee. It didn’t take long to register her odd dream like movements, the way she moved so unaware of the world around her. She was asleep, just as he had been. “Shit,” he cursed between grit teeth, half caught between continuing his walk home and stopping to help. She is your Queen. But I have no protection against touching her. She needs your help. Swallowing back his anxiety, he nodded toward the dog. “Stay here,” he said sternly, wrapping a hand into the hem of his tank top as he bent down, allowing the fabric covered limb to touch the dog’s back. “I’ll be right back.” Trying not to second guess himself further, he jogged over to Aiyla, hovering just a couple feet behind her.

“Aiyla… Aiyla? …Aiyla, can you hear me?” It was no use, even raising his voice above the low, almost whisper like tone he tended to use, would do little to wake her. He needed to do more, needed something more. But here, in the middle of the street, not too far from Downtown… there wasn’t much at his disposal. Flexing his bare fingers, he stared between his shaking hands and the ground. There wasn’t even a rock he could use. You would really throw a rock at your leader to wake her? The ridiculousness wasn’t lost on him, but he hadn’t known what to do. You have no choice. No, there must be another way. There isn’t. He let out a shuddered breath, blinking through the haze and looking at Aiyla. His hands, cool without the usual second skin of leather choking them, palms facing the fae queen and just barely hovering a few inches away. They trembled in the air between them, Eren’s gaze focusing on the knobby knuckles in each hand and finger as they reached anxiously towards her. “Just a shove… that’s all. Just ove shove… God, I’m sorry,” the apology wasn’t for her but it did little to calm his jolting nerves as Eren reached out and grabbed her, his hands curling around Aiyla’s slim shoulders which he jostled just a bit roughly. His palms, slick with sweat and fear, pressed against her skin, twisting her towards him as he attempted to stir her from her stupor. “Wake up,” he raised his voice, stern and loud for a fleeting moment as he attempted to speak again. His next attempt at words was drowned out in the air evacuating his lungs as the sensation of touch quickly washed over him. His bare hands were on her — on her bare skin, a sensation he avoided so much it always felt so shockingly foreign and horrible when it happened. Vision clouding from discomfort and a tinge of fear, knowing there lay a possibility of receiving a haunting memory of death just then, Eren shook her once more before practically jumping away from Aiyla, his arms curling around himself as his breathing shallowed. His jaw dropped open, dry heaving in a panic as his knees buckled and Eren sunk down towards the ground. His wings, long and webbed, dark shades of purples, blues and greens shimmering even in the darkness of the eclipse, unfurled from where they lay at his back, standing sharp and on alert as his forehead met the hot asphalt of the street, a trembling mess on the ground. That had better done it, you’d better be awake, he wanted to say but all words were caught in a tight knot in his throat, where it constricted and closed against his windpipe, cutting off the air flow to his lungs. He could hear barking as Hardy barreled towards him, worried for his person, and his eyes clenched shut as Eren mentally counted down from 100, trying desperately to even his breaths, to forget the feeling of warm bare skin against his palms, to forget the shock of touch, the way he wanted to crawl out of this skin which now felt tainted. It brought back memories, those that haunted him when he was alone in the recess of his mind. Falling, tripping down an endless hole until the deep, wet earth found him, and his hand, plunging and sinking into rot. The visions that came to him, the feeling of being so unclean and crawling in filth up to his ears. It all rained down on him and threatened to drown him in an endless sea of discomfort and anxiety. “It’s not happening, you’re not there, you’re not in that ditch, it’s over, you’re fine, that was so long ago,” he repeated hoarsely, the cracked asphalt biting into his forehead as he begged for the ground to swallow him whole.

[lightishlilac]

Hey wh

Why is child trafficking canon in Genshin

[nyf-archive]

The fist hitting the palm of the other's hand pulls the changeling out of her mind and focusing back on the woman across from her. As she scoots closer, her head tilts, but in the next moment as her hands are taken, there is a slight hitch in her breath. Her heart is immediately thumping loudly in her chest, visible in her neck, even, at the sudden contact. Twenty years without more than a handshake for deals or to guide clients out of her office. But she settles herself, tries to. The cleric had no true idea of what haunted her, so she forced herself to relax. To listen once more.

As her hands are turned, Nox stares at them, pitch eyes staring at the lines and creases, joints and ridges. Her finger prints easy to spot as she hyperfixates on every little intersecting line and bump. She had...the love of magic? She bit down on her tongue at the idea. To her, magic just seemed like feelings and ideas come to life. When she was angry, the cacophony of her thoughts, the chaotic melody in her brain was loosed as whispers clashing in dissonance, thwarting her enemies from her side. When she wanted a friend, she made it so.

It was odd to think of it in this way. She didn't think that magic, itself, could have feelings. But then again, if they were feelings, and her feelings, it would make sense. Her fingers flexed inward and then out, eyes flickering up to the cleric. The woman's mouth seems dry all too quickly. "...this is a terrible way to tell me that I need to love myself, better." There is a moment of foolish laughter from her as she brings a heel of her hand to wipe away at welling tears in her eyes.

"You have thoroughly enlightened me this day, friend." Nox smiles sadly a little more. "Well, I'll keep doing what I've been doing, then." Her voice is thick now. "Thank you for this...I can't say that I have ever experienced such a thing in a very long time. I experienced hatred below the surface and above. This is something I don't think I'll forget for a long time."

Listening intently she was curious what the halfblood spoke of. Nodding along with what they said as to confirm she was still listening but not wanting to interrupt. Yet there was still a response even if it was non verbal. Eyes shining as well hearing how they had manifested magic out of nothing. Born to nothing, born to no one, and being blessed with such things? Barrae could hardly believe it so when the other was done she would lay a fist on her own open palm as a declaration of understanding. " I get it! "

She would proudly proclaim. " I think I get it. " Tilting her head to the side with a raised brow, " You've never been alone either. This magic you have. " Scooting closer Barrae would take the other's hands in her own rough and calloused ones. " You have the love of magic itself with you. When you had called to them all and no one replied it was because this magic you possess had heard you. In that moment you were heard but it needed to know you were strong. That you were willing for it to come to you. "

Raising up Nox's hands and turning them so that their palms are laid outward. " The love you have is that magic. That comfort that connects you to others is this weave. You aren't as alone as you believe with it. All those wizards, sorcerers, they had not been gifted with such power as you worked so hard for it. You were blessed by magic itself and it will stay with you as you show the love for it, and for yourself. As it sounds like it cares for you as much as you care for yourself. You haven't been alone, you've only felt alone because it's difficult to feel that presence. But you have it already in you, you always had. "

Barrae did love talking like this, consoling others who were lost. Even if she didn't particularly enjoy it being someone of the surface she missed doing this. Helping. Showing and realizing other's pain and suffering so that they might strive to be better. It was her empathy that drove her forward especially now believing entirely that this person simply was lost. Knowing all too well in her own struggles that it's difficult to realize you're not alone when the expectation of company is different than what others can give. " Your love is different from mine, but it nevertheless is still love; and it has stayed with you. Don't you see? "

[ko-glitch-101]

[TW: MENTIONS OF ASSAULT]

Why does errors haphephobia get treated as a fuckig joke yall

Like no dear, drawing error getting his boundaries crossed and screaming cuz he was touched isnt funny. Thats mocking his phobia and showing an assault

[bryophyta-au]

[ID:

Experimental portrait in marker & pencil. Alnasl, a humanoid star, is the main figure. He’s got large triangular eyelashes, is covered in hands, he glares at the camera with one eye. The background is a cloudy blue. Left edge of paper is a spiral bound sketchbook. Orange text on the bottom says “Try me.”

End ID]

[dia-smthidk]

About the "any question no matter what" post: what's your greatest fear? And I don't mean the casual sort of "I dislike this thing more than any of my other fears." Eg: I'm more afraid of being mauled by a bear than I am being struck by lightning but both are real fears.

I mean the "if I experience this firsthand my heart may stop," kind of greatest fear. The kind that leaves one shaking and their breathing ragged as their brain tries to reset back into safe mode.

Much love, hope you're doing well, and may you never have to actually experience that fear.

[readbyred]

Sketches from when I was still figuring my oc/self insert out

[c0ntr0lledchaos]

A Compass

(originally posted in may of 2023)

 The compass felt cold and heavy in Mara’s hand, smooth and faded from years of use. Scars were littered across her hands, contrasting with the pale blue nail polish she had recently applied. Goosebumps ran up her arms as she leaned forward on the kitchen counter, feeling the cool quartz on her forearms. She sighed and stared at the compass, searching for some magic answer to appear in the cracked glass or wherever the needle was pointing. Sadly, it remained a normal compass, the needle permanently pointing north.

 Outside the kitchen walls, music blared. There was a party in progress, a ‘we might die soon’ kind of party. There were people in this group who had dangerous jobs, but she figured before they were usually pretty confident in their abilities versus their enemies' abilities, so they didn't have as much to worry about as they do now. This mission was different though, it wasn’t for pay or personal gain like usual for this group of criminals and hitmen. Mara didn’t know them all too well, but she knew that for this mission, they all had a lot more to lose than they were used to. It was understandable that they wanted to have one last night of fun before possibly dying. Josie on the other hand, couldn’t die, but Mara figured that she just liked any chance she got to have fun.

 The living room door opened behind her. She heard a person take a few steps before stopping when they saw her, their shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor. Their feet dragged slightly, probably slightly drunk by now as the drinking had started about an hour or two ago. The air in the room grew more tense by the second as they stared at her. Mara knew exactly who it was.

 “What? You here guarding beer or something?” Skylar asked, slurring their words a bit. They were never a big drinker when Mara knew them, but things could have changed in the years they’ve been apart.

 “I’m not doing anything,” Mara said, pocketing the compass as she turned around to face them. As soon as she was met with their glare, she regretted turning around. Years of anger had been left to sit and rot a hole in their heart, and Mara knew it was her fault.

 They looked tired or drunk. It was difficult to tell with some people, and both were equally possible right now. Their long braid was coming undone and she could see dark circles under their eyes. Mara found herself examining them out of habit, used to taking in all the information she could about her surroundings. She noticed the way they were swaying slightly, just as she had noticed the door to the garage was unlocked, or that there was a knife block within her reach if she needed it.

 “What was that?” Skylar said, using their empty beer bottle to point at Mara.

 “What was what?”

 “You just put something in your pocket. What was it?”

 Mara felt her face heat up and rolled her eyes to hide she was avoiding eye contact. She really wished she had been facing away from them now.

 “It’s nothing. I just put my phone back in my pocket,” she lied.

 "No, it wasn’t a phone,” Skylar said, as observant as ever even under the influence of alcohol. “Are you stealing something?”

 “I am not stealing!” Mara said, frustrated.

 "You are! Give it back!” Skylar said, taking a few steps towards her.

 “I told you, I didn’t steal anything!” Mara said, crossing her arms in front of her. It hurt a bit, to be accused of something like that. It’s not that she had never stolen anything before but she didn’t do it randomly. She thought Skylar knew her better than that. The logical side of her brain said it was most likely due to their inebriation, but it still hurt.

 Skylar gritted their teeth and held up their hand, their shadow shooting from the floor toward Mara’s pocket. Mara dodged to her side, noting Skylar’s accuracy and response time were slower than usual.

 “Jack let us into his home and you have the nerve to steal from him, I shouldn’t be surprised!” Skylar yelled, preparing to attack again. Their shadow rose up like snakes ready to bite, slithering around Skylar’s ankles.

 “What is that supposed to mean?!” Mara yelled back, the air shifting. All Mara wanted was to be left alone and not be accused of something she didn’t do, let alone be attacked for it.

 “You are a selfish asshole!” Skylar reached with their shadows again, now aiming to grab onto Mara’s arm instead. She dodged again and the wind picked up more, Mara’s dark curly hair blowing around her face.

 “I did not steal!” Mara shouted. A small storm cloud started to grow near the ceiling above her. Small flashes of lightning appeared in the cloud, followed by low thunder as Mara’s anger and frustration got the better of her. So much for the years of training she did to keep her powers under control. Skylar always brought out the parts of her she tried to keep hidden.

 “Liar! All you do is lie to me!”

Mara froze at the statement, giving Skylar the chance to dart forward, reaching with their hand and shadow towards the compass. Mara reacted without thinking and a small amount of lightning shot out of the cloud, striking the ground just behind Skylar. They both stood there, unmoving as Mara processed what she almost did. The lighting wouldn’t have killed them, but it would definitely have hurt, and maybe even burned their skin.

 “Sky… I-I didn’t-”

 “Why do you still have this?”

 The question caught Mara off guard and she looked down at Skylar, following their eyes to the compass in their hand.

 “Oh…” Mara said softly. The room felt deathly quiet now that the wind had stopped. The music on the other side of the walls seemed far away now. “It's useful… I can control the weather better if I know where I am… wind direction… stuff like that…”

 “I gave this to you…” Skylar said softly, looking up at Mara.

 “You can have it back-”

 “No! I just... didn't expect you to keep it after… everything,” Skylar mumbled.

 “What? Am I just supposed to throw away the only present anyone has ever given me?” Mara said sarcastically, chuckling softly. Skylar gave a half-hearted laugh, a sad smile on their lips. Mara stared down at the compass, remembering the last time it was in Skylar’s hand.

 Memories of white walls and gaps between security cameras came to mind. She remembered Skylar giving her the compass, saying something about it being an anniversary. Mara had forgotten but Skylar reassured her that they didn’t mind. They both seemed so young then.

 Mara was lost in memories, not noticing how Skylar’s free hand reached for hers. As soon as their hand touched hers, it was like she was there again. The sounds of someone shouting orders at her filled her ears and her hand throbbed from the wounds that had healed a long time ago. She couldn’t help but flinch away.

 “Sorry… I forgot,” Skylar said softly, pulling their hand away. They hesitated before holding up the compass.

 “Oh you know… no pain no gain…” Mara weakly attempted to joke. She stared for a moment before gently taking the compass out of Skylar’s equally scared hand. Mara had always been a little jealous of Skylar for that, having gone through the same upbringing and training as she had, but with the ability to have physical contact with other people without being brought back to the pain that used to come with it.

 “I think we went throw to much pain for to little gain.” With that, Skyler took a step back and walked over to the fridge, opening it up. Mara stayed where she was, staring at the compass for a moment. She forced herself to take a deep breath, shaking off the lingering thoughts of the past. She pocketed the compass and leaned against the wall to watch Skylar grab another beer from the fridge.

 Skylar grabbed their drink and turned, tossing the empty bottle in the trash. They started to walk out of the kitchen but paused in front of the door.

 “You should come out and join us… Might not get another chance,” Skylar said before exiting the room.

 Mara stared at the door, feeling the weight of the compass in her pocket and the decision on her shoulders. She wanted nothing more than to leave her past behind, to move on and start again as Skylar had, but was she able to?

[t1wl1ghts]

Character Guide!!!!

I've decided to write all this down for y'all to get a better understanding of the boys and how I interpret them especially since my blog is empty at the moment. This way you know what you're getting into when you ask for one of the boys! This will continue to be updated the more boys get added!!!

TW: SUICIDAL TENDENCIES, SUBSTANCE ABUSE, SELF HARM, TOXIC BEHAVIOR, EATING DISORDERS, HORRIBLE COPING MECHANISMS, no one is truly happy...the only somewhat normal one is Sans

꩜ Sans: low self esteem, emphasis on humor as a defense mechanism, strong sense of loyalty, relaxed and easygoing attitude, low tolerance for bullshit, protective instincts,reluctance to confront his feelings directly, tendency to procrastinate, clever and quick-witted, deep rooted jealousy from insecurities, lazy, lack of motivation unless fixated on something, strong sense of humor and playfulness, apathetic mindset, prankster, shame in voicing his feelings romantically, emphasis on holding on/doesn’t easily forgive, prone to laziness or lack of effort in the relationship, downplays serious issues with jokes, tends to avoid confrontation, keeps emotional distance to protect himself, can be unreliable or inconsistent, prone to procrastination and inaction, internalizes his struggles instead of sharing them, prefers to keep things casual, struggles with open communication, capable of deep loyalty but struggles to express it,fears disappointing his partner, tends to be low-maintenance and doesn’t demand much, gives his partner space and freedom,

꩜ Dust: emphasis on bitterness and resentment, a heavy burden of guilt from past actions, murderous jealousy, loneliness, self destructive and suicidal tendencies, black and white views, relentless focus on revenge, tendency to isolate himself emotionally,feelings of helplessness leading to aggression,struggles with his identity, almost non-verbal, sensitive/easily triggered psychosis, Schizoid behavior, tendency to stalk, tendency to stare, alcoholic tendencies, fierce loyalty, sharp wit, small moments of self-reflection where he wishes for peace, capacity for immense love, rare moments of tenderness, ASPD traits/behavior, deeply conflicted about love, craves closeness yet fears it, tendency to push others away out of fear of hurting them, intense emotional attachment, fear of abandonment or betrayal leading to jealousy, prone to brooding and internalizing his feelings, emotionally distant but yearns for someone to understand him.

꩜ Killer: emphasis on twisted loyalty and manipulation, extreme detachment from empathy,deep-rooted trust issues, sadistic behavior, a need to suppress guilt by rationalizing violence, extreme shame in expressing genuine emotion, a tendency to bottle up feelings, constant underlying rage, fear of vulnerability, reliance on violence to solve problems, craving validation, overwhelming sense of emptiness, struggles with identity and purpose, clever and quick-thinking, easily triggered hallucinations/PTSD flashbacks. slight schizotypal behavior, charming, dark humor that can lighten tense moments, hidden capacity for love and affection, touched starved, hidden desire for connection, opioid abuse to cope with overwhelming emotions, potential for deep emotional bonds, lack of shame, tendency to self harm, lack of hygiene, prone to fits of rage, may prioritize violence and aggression over emotional connection, struggles with guilt and shame/manifest as self-sabotage, project insecurities onto his partner, willing to go to great lengths to ensure partners safety, passionate, expressing love through acts of service, potential for deep understanding, shows vulnerability in private, playful.

꩜ Error: schizophrenic behavior, homicidal tendencies, periods of catatonia, kleptomania, fear of intimacy, haphephobia, delusions of grandeur, BPD behavior, extreme paranoia, extreme memory loss, childish behavior, obsession with control over his environment, deep-seated feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness, overwhelming sense of isolation and loneliness, inability to form meaningful connections due to mistrust, deep-rooted self-loathing masked by arrogance, compulsive need to destroy to maintain a sense of purpose, fear of failure, internal struggle between wanting connection and pushing everyone away, remarkable intelligence, sharp wit and dry humor, paranoid of betrayal, tendency to stalk, refusal to touch ,sensitive/easily triggered neurosis/paranoia, appreciation for structure and predictability, autistic traits, potential for emotional growth, creative in expressing affection, often finding unique ways to show love, values honesty, potential for deep emotional connection if he learns to trust.

꩜ Nightmare: overwhelming bitterness and resentment, fueled by betrayal, intense jealousy, manipulative and deceitful, deep craving for power and control, deep hatred for his own vulnerability, extreme distrust of others, need for validation through causing pain and chaos, isolation due to self-loathing, sharp intelligence, narcissistic behavior, extreme sadism, deep sense of loyalty to his allies, immense potential for growth, opportunity for deep emotional bonds, strong sense of purpose, hidden traces of compassion, intense with his affections, possessive or controlling behavior, craves deep emotional connection struggles with vulnerability, drawn to relationships where he can feel in control or powerful, struggles to express love in healthy ways, prone to jealousy and mistrust,fears rejection, capable of intense devotion, need for reassurance and validation, secretly craves tenderness, tendency to show love through acts of protection or dominance

꩜ Dream: struggles with self worth, vulnerability to disappointment, overly accommodating, forgets his own wants and needs, difficulty confronting harsh realities, passive-aggressive, strong sense of loyalty, takes on too much emotional burden, matured too fast, tendency to prioritize others happiness over his own, a need maintain a positive facade at all costs, and a desire to avoid conflict, nurturing and supportive, deep empathy, patient and encouraging, tendency to be overly idealistic, playful sense of humor, ability to create a safe space for vulnerability, desire to fix his partner’s problems at the expense of his own well-being, dedication to harmony in the relationship, patience and willingness to grow, encouraging of his partners dreams, capacity for deep emotional connection.

꩜ Horror: remarkable resilience, resourceful and adaptive, sharp problem-solving skills, pragmatic and realistic, emotional detachment, struggles with eating food, often feels guilty/body can't handle it so he pukes, prone to violent or aggressive outbursts, struggles with trusting others due to past, cold and distant in an attempt to protect himself, prone to extreme paranoia and distrust, capable of acting as a guardian, surprisingly compassionate, capable of offering tough love, ruthlessly pragmatic, desensitized to violence and suffering, deep fear of loss, extremely controlling,emotionally withdrawn/numb, pessimistic outlook on life, tendency to isolate himself,difficulty maintaining healthy boundaries, prone to emotional burnout, struggles with long-term planning, harsh/unforgiving, prone to mania, fiercely protective and devoted to partner, tender and caring in private moments, emotionally distant due to C-PTSD, prone to shutting down emotionally when overwhelmed,struggles to communicate his feelings, prone to bouts of paranoia and distrust, can become overly dependent on his partner for emotional stability, fears abandonment and may become clingy or overbearing, BPD behavior and traits, values emotional intimacy and trust, comfort in the presence of his partner.

꩜ Fell: extremely cynical and mistrustful of others, prone to aggressive or antagonistic behavior, Clingy behavior, Flirts but shy when it comes to genuine intimacy, uses sex as coping mechanism, fiercely loyal, willing to defend friends/partner at all costs, capable of deep understanding and insight, pragmatic and realistic, dark sense of humor, hidden sense of justice and fairness, shows care through subtle acts of service, offers practical advice, reliable and steady, willing to make sacrifices for the greater good, can be surprisingly compassionate, capable of forming meaningful bonds with those who prove their loyalty, struggles to express/acknowledge his feelings, quick to anger, harbors deep resentment/bitterness,possessive or overly controlling in relationships, avoids emotional closeness, black and white views, missing opportunities for deeper connections, resistant to change or personal growth, clinging to negative patterns and habits out of fear or pride, can be emotionally volatile

WHOOO that is everyone for the most part! I did add some romantic/relationship stuff in there but i didnt wanna go all out yet, the more boys I add for asks they will be listed on here! Ofc this isn't everything but its the major parts of their personality, or at least my views of it. Hope you enjoyed <3333

[utdrmv-confession-box]

Transcript: [TW: MENTIONS OF HARRASSEMENT]

im tired of error's haphephobia being portrayed as a fucking joke. I know this doesnt happen as much as it did back in the early years of the fandom, but come on!

Some comics show error getting harrassed by other characters (basically they trigger his fear on purpose) and he hets mad and screams, and its treated like its funny. Its not.

I wish we could all treat his fear seriously and not as comic relief

[utdrmv-confessions]

[TW: MENTIONS OF HARRASSEMENT AND HAPHEPHOBIA BEING USED AS JOKES]

I hate when people use error's fear as a joke.

Ive seen some comics in which the joke is basically "HAHA LOOK! ERROR IS GETTING TOUCHED AND HES YELLING AT [INSERR CHARACTER] TO STOP! ISNT IT FUNNY?"

Im just tired of seeing that shit cuz like. Its not funny bro.

Youre showing me a character getting harrassed (yes because troggerong someome haphephobia on purpose IS harrassement) and expect me to point and laugh?! WHAT?

.

[mauselet]

The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty. 

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in. 

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath. 

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away. 

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni. 

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes. 

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it  together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again. 

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together. 

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around. 

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they’re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room. 

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her. 

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear. 

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else. 

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her. 

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back. 

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said. 

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.