#healthy and unhealthy coping mechanisms

[anthurak]

Continuing my analysis and theorizing on Asmodeus, Mammon and the rest of the Deadly Sins of Helluva Boss and their backgrounds, characterization and where the show might be taking them, I’ve been thinking about what their expressions of their respective ‘Sins’ might truly represent for their characters. Both in the way they express it and even the whole reason they express a ‘Sin’ in the first place.

Now assuming that all of the Sins are Fallen Angels just like Lucifer, and their presence in Hell is a result of their expulsion from Heaven, and Hell being the new home they’ve built for themselves;

What if their expression of each of their ‘sins’ is a metaphorical or even outright literal trauma coping mechanism?

Like given what we’ve seen so far of how Vivzie and her team approach and interpret the ideas of Hell and Heaven, I think it’s all too easy to imagine them framing the ‘fall’ of the seven sins to be a truly horrific event that left all of them with massive emotional and mental scars and trauma. Like getting kicked out by the universe’s most controlling, rigid, conservative and violently judgmental family.

So what if the whole reason that Asmodeus, Mammon, Beelzebub and the rest started expressing and embodying their respective ‘sin’ was as a way of processing and coping with their trauma?

And of course, there are healthy ways of dealing with trauma, and unhealthy ways as well. Which I think is the true difference between the Sins.

Basically, Ozzie and Bee found healthy ways of processing and coping with their trauma, while Mammon DIDN’T.

More specifically, we see with both Ozzie and Bee that they are able to manage their ‘sin’ (ie; coping mechanism) so that it doesn’t become harmful to themselves or others: Bee is acutely aware of and concerned when someone is overindulging to the point of self-harm, while Ozzie strongly stresses the importance of consent when it comes to sex.

Mammon meanwhile, clearly has zero management or restraint over his ‘sin’. I think it’s all too plausible that Mammon’s obsession with wealth and attention for his ‘brand’ is deep-down a way for him to distract himself from some deeply repressed pain and trauma. Thereby showing how a coping mechanism can become harmful not just for oneself, but others as well.

And the best part is that even with the little we know of them at this point, I think we can already guess that Belphagor, Satan and Leviathan could display/represent other means of coping with trauma, either healthy or harmful.

We know that Belphagor runs Hell’s pharmaceutical business, so I think we can all agree that could easily be a way to show how medication can either help or harm in dealing with trauma. Satan being the Sin of Wrath could represent how anger can be used as a coping mechanism, while he apparently running a workout app could hint to him using fitness as a coping mechanism. And Leviathan being associated with social media of course has all kinds of potential to the show the good and bad ways THAT can be used to deal with trauma.

Over the course of its run thus far, Helluva Boss has shown itself to be in large part a story about dealing with trauma, with practically all of the primary and secondary characters having arcs heavily influenced or even outright defined by their struggles with past trauma. Blitzo, Moxxie, Loona, Stolas, Fizzerolli, Barbie Wire, even more minor or antagonistic characters like Octavia, Verosika and Striker. ALL of these characters have been shown grappling with past pain and trauma, with almost all showing that they are coping with their trauma in either a healthy or unhealthy manner.

Whether Moxxie recognizing that it is his father who is at fault for all the pain he went through and not himself, Fizzerolli finding a loved one who has helped him cope or Barbie Wire simply spending a long time in therapy to show the positive ways people can deal with their trauma. Or conversely, Loona’s closed-off, angry and generally anti-social defense mechanism, Stolas trying to throw himself into a relationship he doesn’t fully understand, or just… EVERYTHING that Blitzo has going on to show the harmful ways people can deal with trauma.

So I’d say it really only makes sense that with how the show has also taken steps to ‘humanize’ the Sins, that this theme of exploring how people deal with deep-seeded pain and trauma would likewise extend to them as well.

[estro-gem]

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

[coffeeisfortheresponsible]

here’s my confession and it’s that i think llorumi works but only in the most toxic heartbreaking abusive relationship way,, like not ‘oh harumi is good now and lloyd forgives her’ but like ‘lloyd can’t help but love her even though she hurts him because he seeks out unhealthy habits,, he loves her like an addiction to pain,, she hates him because it’s all she’s ever known,, she hurts him because it’s the only way she knows she can have him,,’

do you get it.

canon llorumi is toxic and bad,, fanon llorumi should be even more toxic and bad. i don’t ship them in a healthy way i ship them in a lloyd is aroace but is starved for emotional connection and he will put up with abuse to get it.

does this make sense

[sorryimananti-romantic]

What inspires you to write? And how do you deal with a writer's block?

hi love <3

i think the little things inspire me to write? a product of my daydream, a little sth that catches my attention like a song lyric, a concept photo or a quote. i'm really inspired by kdramas or movies that i watch, or the books that i (used to) read.

as of lately, i'm more into the whole worldbuilding and the plot aspects of writing- that's where i start, and then i fit/shape the member i write for accordingly. the members are just characters in the fic, the world and the setting that i create for them is the primary focus. that mainly inspires/drives me to write.

as for writer's block, when i feel it coming, i try to find the source of it and deal with that directly. sometimes, real life is overwhelming us (real life is always overwhelming me and i actually write to cope so if even writing starts to overwhelm me... i'll have nothing left LOL).

sometimes, it's bc we just need a little break to sort our thoughts out. it's okay to not always actively write and post. i take a little congratulatory break after each fic posted where i just watch sth or read stuff or rot. it works really good bc i actually want to write when the break is over. in case i'm obsessed with an idea i just have to write, i try to do planning instead of actually writing. (and i think in the long run its better to have these little breaks instead of a big writer's block break, but sometimes we do need the big break :') don't be scared of it)

also, i think it's really imp that you know who you are writing for. you should primarily be writing for yourself, and then for the readers. the pressure of posting sometimes gets to us, and that's okay, we just need to take a few deep breaths and think. sometimes, we're losing motivation, there's lack of feedback, or various other factors that make it seem like a writer's block is coming. but really, prioritise yourself in when and what you write <3

and to add on to this-- give yourself the ego boost no one will (or write out of spite like i do). you're amazing, you're a great writer, you write juicy stuff, and that's all that matters! people don't have to love you for you to know that you're a great writer! gaslight yourself if you have to (it works). write out of spite-- hmm, why has no one written xxx trope about yyy member yet? if no one has, i will. this also works.

also, i think the most imp thing in all this yapping is being able to talk to someone if you feel like you can't write. sometimes when you feel like you're stuck and there's only darkness, talking to someone about what you feel, or what you want to write and bouncing ideas with them lights up that bulb in your head and before you know it, you're back on track again.

and if you ever need that person, i'm here for you <3

[acornered]

Ashamed, exhausted, food repulsed. Wish my gf was here so at least I could be held through the agony.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

"Don't you see that I'm hurting?" For Ivy and Claudine, pretty please

Look at me writing another story that I have no context for &lt;3

Your guess to what happened before this is as good as mine &lt;3

Also, @tiredflowercrown, tagging you here ’cos you asked about some Ivy/Claudine and this... counts?

Claudine leans her back against the wall, just barely resisting the urge to slide down on the pavement. Or what passes as it, in here on the Isle.

It would feel like too much of a failure, and besides, the ground is dirty. Ash and blood and other substances that Claudine doesn't wish to be thinking about.

Claudine is good at not thinking, usually.

But now, she tugs at her hair, which, in her humble opinion, doesn't hurt nearly enough. Her hand moves to her waist, where she keeps her knife, but her fingers dance on the dirty cloth only. Right boot next, but that hiding place is empty too.

Claudine exhales slowly and forces her eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tears inside. Hot stream trickles down her cheek anyway, and Claudine curses, pressing her nails into her collarbone instead.

Fucking Uma and her fucking safety measures, taking her knives away. And Gil, refusing to steal them back for her, even when she begged.

With a choked breath, another tear escapes. Fucking tears. Claudine claws at her throat for a heartbeat, before she realises what she's doing and forces her hands still.

She curses again.

„Language,“ drawls a far-too familiar voice nearby, and Claudine doesn't bother opening her eyes. „Wouldn't imagine you even know such words, little miss Frollo.“

„Go fuck yourself,“ Claudine answers and still doesn’t open her eyes as the figure of Ivy de Vil leans on the wall next to her, only a tiny bit too close. And Claudine doesn’t lean away. A sliver of light dances in front of her closed eyelids, a flame.

Followed by smoke and equally languid and hazy words. „Why, would you like to watch, sweetheart?“

Claudine gasps and opens her eyes in shock; she takes only a heartbeat too long to answer, and Ivy barks out a laugh. Blood creeps into Claudine’s cheeks.

„Go to Hell,“ she mutters finally.

It has exactly zero effect.

Ivy only tips back her head, exposing the curve of her throat for Claudine to see, and drags a long breath of her cigarette. „Not interested, darling. Besides, hell sounds fun. All the devils are here. Now, if you’re sending me to Hell Hall… That might be a real threat.“

Once again, Claudine doesn’t know how to answer, so she doesn’t.

„Cat got your tongue?“ prods Ivy once more, and Claudine just turns her head away. She does not wish to see Ivy.

Actually, she does wish to see Ivy, but she does not wish to think about that.

Silence and smoke hangs in the air.

Claudine clenches her hand into a fist just to do something.

„Why are you here?“ she asks finally.

„I can do what I want,“ dismisses the de Vil heiress with a flick of her wrist, sending a sprinkle of ash falling down from her cigarette. Then, she turns the question back at Claudine; „What are you doing here?“

Claudine bites her tongue and with it, another „go fuck yourself“.

„Just leave me alone,“ she says instead.

„Not happening,“ Ivy turns her nose up and sends another cloudburst of ash into the already polluted air. „As I said, I can do what I wanna.“

Claudine takes a deep breath and drives her nails deeper into her skin. „Just… Go away. Can’t you see I’m hurting?“ (She says this quietly and hopes Ivy doesn’t hear at all; she hopes she doesn’t go away, even if she hears. She hates this, too.)

„Why would you think I’d care, sweetheart?“ Ivy asks, not really expecting an answer, and Claudine doesn’t know, really. Then Ivy’s knuckles knock on the wood and she turns around to face Claudine, letting her head lull against the wall. „Light?“ she offers carelessly.

Claudine should refuse.

„I’ve got nothing to smoke,“ she says instead.

„Not a problem,“ Ivy mutters this, barely to be understood, as she clutches her own cigarette in between her lips and fishes another from her bra in a rather obscene gesture that Claudine definitely isn’t following with her eyes religiously.

She takes the cigarette that Ivy holds out for her.

She presses her lips together and holds it in its place awkwardly, hoping it won’t fall, and Ivy smirks at that. Claudine’s cheeks burn again.

„C’mere, sweetheart,“ Ivy mutters, so uncharacteristically soft, as she touches Claudine’s face – turns it to herself – brings it closer with just a touch of her fingertips. Claudine lets her.

Her fingertips brush her lips almost at the same time the flames do, and neither hurts more than the other.

„There you go,“ Ivy exhales finally and withdraws further away again, quickly tapping away the dust of her own cigarette, and playing with the lighter.

Flame, then let it die. Flame, then smother it.

Flame, then run your thumb through it just because you can.

Claudine is envious of that.

She remembers the fire on her lips and breaths in the smoke; she chokes on it, coughing and almost doubling over.

Ivy smirks. „Not a fan?“ she asks with that god-damned smile on her lips.

„Fuck you,“ Claudine manages to choke out as she gets her lungs under control and fucking breathes in the smoke again, because what else should she do?

She realises her mistake very soon:

„Why, if you insist…“ drawl Ivy de Vil.

And Claudine would like the ground to swallow her, thank you for asking.

She ostensibly turns away, curling her fingers into under her throat again, hoping it hurts.

When Ivy drags her hand away, well, to say she is surprised is an understatement. Her breath catches in lungs and the situation definitely doesn’t get any better when Ivy leaves her hand in place, on her wrist.

„Stop that,“ orders the de Vil heiress almost moodily, and Claudine almost flinches away at that, almost remembering she wanted to be left alone and sulk. „Come with me.“

„Where?“ she asks, „Why should I?“

„Want to show you what I do when I get… blue.“ Ivy says that word as if the colour blue had personally mortally offended her, forcing an involuntary laugh out of Claudine. „So, come? You’ll like it, I promise.“ Ivy absentmindedly runs her finger above her lighter again, drawing Claudine’s eyes to the flames and her mind far away from other problems.

„Yeah,“ she breaths out with a knowing smirk when Claudine manages to raise her eyes to her lips – her face. „Yeah.“

And so Claudine goes.

And if some buildings lay in ash and soot the next morning, well, that’s nobody’s business, is it now?

And through all the smoke, Claudine finds she can breathe a tiny bit easier.

[the-alphonze]

you know I’ve never actually wanted to give a metal construct a hug this bad before

Bc I’ve just realized that almost every grounding technique humans use (breathing, five senses, another person’s heartbeat) either isn’t feasible for a Construct or just doesn’t have the same significance. So how the fuck do you calm down other than what you’ve been doing (which is like?? Probably extremely unhealthy??? My friend you should not have to freeze yourself to the point your systems begin to shut down & force you into a calmer state every time you get scared)

I don’t even think I’m supposed to get scared so that’s another stressor to a lot of this because I might be either breaking down, there’s a bug in the chip I was put in and it changed how I’m coded then changin’ my “soul” so to speak. Or my soul is startin’ to become its own. Which usually ended in bein’ reset or powered off, so I don’t know what’ll happen if it gets to that point

But that can wait for later, if you did want to give me a hug it won’t do anythin’ but if you want to you can :]

[siriuslygay1981]

"You look like you lost weight! You look great!"

😭 I just put a tighter shirt on dawg

[raayllum]

Love, grief, and moving on

[thethingything]

deleted a bunch of the posts from yesterday because the paranoia finally caught up with me 🙃 but anyway we can't taste properly, we're constantly shaky and wheezy and dizzy, and the cough we've got has gotten significantly worse, and I called our GP to ask about paxlovid or similar treatment and got dismissed before I could even speak to a doctor and I really, really just want to go scream at someone but that would be a shitty thing to do.

I fucking hate that people keep going out while ill and not taking even basic precautions to avoid infecting others. I hate that we're basically at the mercy of everyone else because no matter how hard we try people still infect us and doctors just end up dismissing us. this is... what, like the 6th time we've had covid and we don't even fucking go outside.

I just want a break. I just want to be able to get on with life and get my shit together without being constantly screwed over by other people's reckless decisions and a frankly ridiculous amount of bad luck

[phosbogey]

i love when people talk about childe’s time in the abyss as an allegory for whatever… i know that in canon a lot of the explanation for why he’s Like That is magic mumbo jumbo but i reaaallly like reading too much into it.

[chewwytwee]

Guys you gotta be so careful, if you see yourself planning your day around playing games, or find yourself not wanting to do things so you can go play games WATCH OUT!! You might actually be addicted to video games. You can't do enjoyable things that make you happy very often or have a desire to do things because that's addiction. Which is inherently morally bad because..... it is

[oldcardigan]

sigh i hate when i have unpopular opinions

[naranjapetrificada]

Okay, so. My recent preoccupation with the 🌟 Gay Pirate Show🌟 accidentally led to one of my therapist's annoyingly insightful media observations and all new emotional work I have to do. And if that felt like getting a tooth knocked out, well then reading this fic felt kinda like the first time you poke the hole in your gums with your tongue and don't immediately taste blood?

You should read it anyway because the writing is impeccable, like you might think you're ready for how well-executed this is but I promise you're not, but if you also saw any of those previous posts and a) felt them resonate and b) find reading useful for doing emotional work then I highly recommend. It wasn't easy to read, because of *gestures at the last few days of my tumblr activity* but the language was so effortlessly poetic and the imagery so sharp and visceral that I couldn't look away.

This was literally the first time I was able to finish anything about what comes next for Ed and Stede without the inexplicable outsized emotional devastation that even shit labeled Domestic Fluff was giving me, and that feels important to make note of.

[bbqhooligan]

i get trans men being filed in as Man (derogatory) by other queer people i do it to myself

[thesmokinpossum]

dealing with today crummy mood by getting drunk and the worst part is that it's working smh