#mutilation

[kathaynesart]

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST Pausing during the very brief eye of the storm.  It’s been an interesting experience drawing this entire scene from first person point of view.  Certainly makes it more difficult to show what’s going on, but hopefully it comes across well enough!  Apologies for the intensity of the scene.

Also, it’s easy to miss so wanted to point out a small detail:

I don’t think Leo is the only one holding onto a keepsake from his brothers.  In my opinion Mikey’s emblem always seemed nearly identical in size and placement to the Donnie-pod chest attachments.  I think he’s worn it ever since.  Thank for your support as always!

[cydanite]

"You remember that you are a distinct being with a finite form and a mortal body."

!!SPOILERS for the ending of StP!!

Concept sketch for my interpretation of Slay the Princess’s protagonist. I like the canon vagueness of his design, but I came up with a concept I wanted to explore c:

He has 2 pairs of wings, one on his head and one on his back. The "Narrator", in trapping him, clipped his wings and disguised them as hair and a cloak. Best to not to give any reminder that flying out of the woods is even an option.

The smaller pair wrap around his head like hair, the few remaining primaries folding over each other as bangs. On the “thumb” of the wings are birds feel, decoratively chained together. Don’t be fooled into thinking that chain isn’t meant to hold, though.

The larger pair drapes limply off his shoulders like a cloak. It’s fastened by an X shape. You know the one, when people are lazy with drawing medieval clothing (myself included) we use it as a closure, a formless cross drawstring. You don’t question it when you see it. You wouldn’t suspect it’s two massive metal staples puncturing his flesh.

He can’t see his wings for what they are, so he doesn't feel through them. Not until he can manage to remember...

.

.

.

.

(also i wrote a snippet hehe)

.

The Narrator: The pain is threefold.

First comes stiffness, an ancient ache creeping in from the edge of your perception.

Awareness of this newfound sensation latches on to your mind and pulls, quickly fracturing into a sprawling map of new body parts.

It’s your hair. It hurts, in ways hair shouldn't be able to hurt. Every fiber protests against you despite being just hair mere moments ago.

The fabric of your cloak betrays you as well. You're inescapably aware of the space you now take up. New, itching, uncomfortable, ugly sensations form all down your back.

Voice of the Hero: It's like we just regained blood circulation there. We're being stabbed a thousand times over.

The Narrator: It doesn't end there. Injuries that previously gone unnoticed now make themselves known. You recall running sharp fingers through your hair. Only now can you feel the dried blood. You would've taken better care of that cloak if you'd known it was made up of you.

Voice of the Hero: But what's happening to us?

The Narrator: The web of pain maps out its shape. Two pairs of feathered wings become part of your body once again.

Voice of the Hero: 'Once again'... having wings makes sense, I suppose. But how could we have forgotten this? It seems so inescapable now.

The Narrator: But as you go to reign motor over your limbs once again, the third pain rears it’s ugly head… cold, harsh metal digs into your flesh.

It pins your limbs in their poses. A tiny set of cuffs pull small wings taught around the circumference of your head.

The closure of your "cape" is two enormous staples, staked through your flesh and clamped down hard. There's no blood here, the wound long since healed.

...Who or whatever did this to you, it was never intended to be removed.

Voice of the Hero: Maybe we should keep more vigilant in the future. If we can't trust our own body... I don't want to think about it more than we have to.

[linecrosser]

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi suggested "possessive whumper"

my instant thought was "marking/branding as property", so here we are!

[dashing-through-ecto]

Warning! Graphic, artistic depiction of Gore, Torture and Mutilation under the cut!

IT'S @ecto-implosion TIME!

I had the great honor of working with @yourneighborhoodneighbor who wrote a truly chilling fic for my art! Go and give them a follow and read their work! I can not stress enough how amazing their fic is! If you like angst and can stomach some grusome gore, torture and dissection, then this fic is definitely for you!

And also, you may have noticed that there is music for this comic! @lexosaurus made this amazing track for me and @bibliophilea lend their voice to Dr. Barbara Hartman. I Can't thank you two enough for helping me! This wouldn't have turned out as good as it did if you two hadn't helped me! <3<3<3<3<3<3

[mirrology]

— Eudialyte .ᐟ ʚɞ

✿ "Eudialyte has developed the nickname of “The Stone of the heartland” due to its connection to the energies of unconditional love"

Ft. Aventurine, written with male reader in mind but no mention of he/him, so can be read as gender neutral. wc: 1039

Content: teen! reader, reader works with the IPC, platonic relationship w/ aven, inspired by hnk; when phos lost his legs / after losing your legs in an accident and having to replace them with doll-like ones, you feel useless. Fortunately, Aventurine is here to remind you that your thoughts don't describe you. slight angst.

A/n: i was having big brother Aventurine brain rot, dont ask me how the legs work, even i dont know. Aventurine may be ooc

The atmosphere was peaceful in the vast garden that you were situated in, sitting on a stool that Aventurine helped you on. He said that you needed to get some fresh air, since after the attachment of the legs you couldn't move them just yet. That... made you feel like a burden, he had been helping you get everywhere these past few days.

Aventurine said he didn't mind, yet your thoughts were swirling in your head, you couldn't bring yourself to not feel like this. Your vision blurred with tears as you blankly stared down at your new legs, the material ran up to your mid-thigh then stopping and pressing against what was left of your flesh and bone.

Your knee joint was ultimately replaced with a ball joint that resembles one of a ball jointed puppet. Maybe it was the IPC's way of saying "you're just a puppet and we control the strings" — how despicable.

You furrow your brows in distaste and put a hand against the section that meets synthetic with flesh. "These things look kinda weird, huh?" you muttered, tilting your head to get a better perspective of the material that was now a part of you.

You sat there for a bit, but got fed up with being so still. You wanted to walk and run and jump! In a spontaneous motion you grabbed your knee and shook it desperately, "just move already!" you grunted tilting back a bit.

The stool tilted back as well, and with a thump you landed on your back on top of the green grass. a wince left your mouth as you tried to regain your breath.

breathe in...

and out.

You sighed in defeat while turning on your side, watching the blades of grass sway with the wind in a mesmerizing dance. “I’m completely useless…” you muttered in sorrow, tears welling up at the corner of your eyes. Footsteps broke you out of your trance and a familiar shadow covered your figure that was laying down, you looked up at the comforting face of the man that you considered a brother.

“I left for only 5 minutes” he chuckled and picked up the stool that had fallen down “how exactly did you end up on the ground?” Aventurine smiled cheekily as he crouched down to pick you up in a princess carry. He looked down at you in his arms and he noticed your teary eyes, his expression turned into a concerned one quite quickly. 

Aventurine gently sat you down on the stool once more and crouched down on one knee in front of you as he stared into your eyes. “What’s wrong, kiddo?” he softly spoke as he reached up towards your face and flicked away a tear with his thumb, one that was threatening to spill over.

You stared at him with a conflicted expression, you didn’t know how to tell him. As much as you wanted to let out the horrible thoughts in your head you felt as if you would be bothering him with your problems. More tears filled your eyes along with some flowing down your cheeks, you pressed the palms of your hands to your eyes in an attempt to stop your sobbing.

“Oh, (name)...” Aventurine whispered, he stroked your head while softly moving your arm away from your face. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” He asked as he held your hand, encouraging you to spill your thoughts to him. You sniffled, lightly rubbing underneath your nose, “i..” you paused. Your eyes trailed down to your legs that now donned those puppet like joints, your lips slightly quivered as you opened your mouth, hesitantly speaking. “Am I- do I bother you?”

Your hopeful eyes met his understanding ones, Aventurine’s eyes softened as he processed your words. “Of course not” he smiled reassuringly “you could never be of bother to me” his hold on your hand tightened a little. Once more you looked at your lap, your hair covering a significant part of your face, “i can't move my legs, i cant move around by myself…” you trailed off and pausing for a second then raising your head to meet his eyes yet again. “I feel like a burden to you and also useless at the same time, it’s… so frustrating.” you grimaced, slightly cringing at the words that tumbled out of your mouth. You never thought that you would spill everything like that.

Aventurine was shell shocked, although he had his suspicions of you feeling under the weather because of your loss of your legs, he wouldn't have predicted that it would impact you this much. Everytime he would come into your room to give you your dinner or to check on you there would be something off, such as your puffy eyes, tear stains on your pillow etc. 

Of course, how couldn't he have noticed it sooner? Aventurine reached up and cupped your cheeks in his hands, you could feel the warmth of his hands radiating from his palms. “You're not a burden, (name)” He answered, “I would take care of you for as long as it takes,” he said, his eyes determined. “Because I care for you, you have brought happiness to my world when I needed it most.”

“So, don’t cry anymore, kiddo”

Your breath hitched, teary eyes wide and filled with much needed relief. Suddenly you tackled him in a hug, your hands wrapped around him tightly as if he would suddenly disappear and you burried your head in the crook of his neck. Aventurine quickly caught you in his embrace, he chuckled and leaned his head on yours as he rubbed you back in comfort. 

In an instant your stomach grumbled, indicating that it was hungry. Your face heated up at the moment being ruined by your hunger. “wow, someones hungry” Aventurine teased as he leaned away from the hug, he snickered at your flushed face. “Hey! Don't make fun of me!” you exclaimed while lightly punching his arm, “haha, okay okay.” He smiled as he picked you up, “why dont we get you something to eat?”

“Can we have (f/f)?”

“Hmm.. i don’t know..”

“Aven!

“Alright, i'll stop. of course We can your majesty”

© mirrology — please dont repost or steal !

[green-eyedfirework]

Slade isn’t expecting visitors today, so he’s annoyed that the sound of footsteps interrupts his book.  The curtains are drawn wide to let in the sunlight, and he doesn’t bother getting off the chair.  As one of Talia’s best gladiators, he can get away with a lot more than anyone else.  He’s earned enough to buy his freedom ten times over, and Talia knows that the only reason he’s here is because he wants to be here.

It’s in her best interests to keep him sweet.  A lesson Ra’s never learned.

“Slade,” she calls out before she fully steps into view, wearing a low-cut dress typical of high class fashion and yet bristling with knives, “I’ve brought a gift.”

“I wasn’t aware I was expecting one,” Slade says, still in his seat.  There are two guards with her in addition to her personal shadow, and they’re holding someone upright between them.

“This was one a long time in waiting,” Talia smiles, and beckons the guards forward.  It takes a long time to recognize the stumbling figure between them—clad in the typical revealing silks of a bedslave, bandages wound around their torso and half across their face, ruffling dark hair.  Their head is bowed, golden cuffs around their wrists, but it isn’t until Slade spots the blue brooch clipping the silks to the unassuming black collar that he realizes who this is.

Nightwing.  Richard Grayson.  Up until recently, one of the Arena’s favorite gladiators.  And the man that killed Slade’s son.

He doesn’t realize he’s on his feet until Talia’s smile widens.  He ignores her, and stares at Grayson.  The man is gaunt where he was once gleaming, a golden young gladiator now gray and exhausted and faintly trembling.  The outline of his collarbones is starkly visible, as are the dark shadows around his visible eye.  Grayson lifts his head to meet Slade’s gaze, expression cool and blank, and there’s no fire in that startlingly blue eye.

He looks like someone walking to their executioner.

“And what’s the gift?” Slade asks sharply.  He heard of Grayson’s loss weeks ago, a startling upset with one of Talia’s young gladiators, and the Arena had voted to spare him.  He assumed that Talia would’ve used Grayson in one of the games she was always playing to catch Lord Wayne’s attention, not bring him here.

To the first person in the country who wanted to tear him apart.

Talia smiles, and gestures to Grayson.  There’s a flicker of something in Grayson’s eye that fades to blankness.  It isn’t quite resignation or quiet placidity.  It’s a mask, and Slade’s itching to tear it off his face.

“He’s yours,” she says.  For what?  For a night, a day, a week, a fuck, a beating, a—“to do with whatever you wish.  Keep him or kill him, I do not care.  His fate is yours.”

Slade blinks.  This time, the fracture across Grayson’s mask spreads wider before it’s suppressed.  Before Slade can fully understand what’s going on, his cell door is opened and Grayson is none-too-gently shoved inside.

“Have fun,” Talia laughs, smirking at Grayson before she walks away, “Goodbye, Richard.”

Grayson doesn’t say a word.  Soon, the guards and Talia are beyond hearing, and the heavy weight of the silence is the only thing there.  Silence, and Slade staring at the single person he’s wanted to tear apart for years.

He takes a step forward.  Grayson presses back against the bars, clearly trembling now, expression fighting to be blank but panic too hard to fully conceal.  He’s trapped in a corner and there’s nowhere to go and Slade stalks forward with all the time in the world.

“Nothing to say?” Slade asks, because he’s been waiting for this moment for so long, stoking the fires of his vengeance year after year, waiting for Wayne to finally buckle and schedule a fight between them, and in his dreams, Nightwing turns to Icarus, the boy that flew too close to the sun.  And Nightwing dies, red spilling across the sands.

Now it looks like the wax wings burned on the way off but didn’t manage to take him with it, and Grayson’s thinner than he usually is, lost muscle and new scars and no matter how fiercely he tries to manage his expression, there’s a brightness he can’t quite mimic.

“Is there anything to say?” Grayson asks, voice hoarse, “You’re going to kill me.  I don’t have a speech for pretty last words.”  Defiant but weary.

This is a pale imitation of the golden, gleaming young gladiator that raised bloody dual swords to the roar of an Arena, triumphant over his son’s corpse, and frustration abruptly washes over Slade.

“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Slade growls, and he’s close enough to wrap a hand around Grayson’s throat and yank him away from the bars.  “Do you really think that I’ve been dreaming of killing you for years only to give you the mercy of a quick death?”

Grayson does attempt to defend himself, long-ingrained fighting instincts unable to let him truly surrender, no matter how much resignation he feigns, but Slade flings him at the floor to avoid the retaliatory swipe.

That Grayson falls is the first surprise.  The man has preternatural grace.  Slade quickly calculates that the bandages across his right eye are the culprit, as are whatever injuries he’s hiding, but the thought is pushed aside when Grayson hits the ground.

Because he screams, actually, open-mouthed, screams, voice cracking in a way that indicates precisely why it’s so hoarse, and immediately rolls over to curl up on his side, gasping and shaking and nearly clawing at the floor.

That isn’t a minor injury.  That is—

Slade’s not an idiot, not a mindless brute tearing people apart because he knows nothing else, no matter how much the impression suits him.  He used to be in the military, used to command, used to strategize, and he’s spent years watching lords and ladies play their games.

It’s a fact that Grayson displeased Talia in some way, she would’ve given him back to Wayne otherwise.  Dropping him in Slade’s lap means Grayson’s only coming out of the cell as a bloody ruin.  So Talia got her money’s worth, sold Grayson to everyone that’s wanted a piece of the charming young gladiator, until—until someone damaged him so badly that Talia wouldn’t even try putting him back together.

Slade grabs that ridiculous brooch and uses it to lift Grayson off the floor.  Grayson’s struggles are weak, and they cut out with a choked sound when Slade drops him on the bed.  Slade finds the nearest knife.

Grayson sees the light glinting off the blade, reflected in his too-wide blue eye, and squeezes that eye shut.  Stops breathing too.

Slade carefully slides the knife under the bandages and slices them all free.

The outer layer comes unwrapped easily, the cloth wrapped around Grayson’s head to keep it in place.  The second layer is more packed together, but comes undone with a few more cuts.  It’s the third layer that’s plastered to Grayson’s skin, and Grayson starts making those quiet sounds again, as if he’s trying not to shout.

It comes off, tugging at every inch of Grayson’s skin, to reveal a brilliantly red slash extending from just below Grayson’s right cheekbone to disappear into his hairline.  In its path lies an empty eye socket.

One visible blue eye stares at him, glimmering and wide.

When Slade places the knife right under it, he gets the first true glimpse of terror.

~#~

Grayson is sitting on the edge of the bed by the time Slade steps through the curtain, a book in one hand but clearly alert.  Aware of how long gladiatorial training takes, aware that Slade is back too soon, wary and—

His entire face brightens when their visitor steps past Slade.  Any thought Slade had of keeping himself between the two is thrown out the window when Grayson pushes himself upright and nearly throws himself at Hood with a cry of “Jaybird!”

Hood catches him and clutches him close, spilling a long string of half-choked apologies, and now Slade’s curiosity is burning.  Hood is murmuring “sorry,” over and over and over again, and Grayson is shushing him, and there’s a familiarity there that Slade hadn’t expected.  Sure, he knows that Hood was trained alongside Grayson, before he went out to a match he wasn’t prepared for and became Talia’s, but Hood’s bitterness for his former master and all Wayne’s gladiators is fairly well known.

Until now.

“It’s okay,” Grayson finally says loudly, squeezing Hood tightly in a hug, “It’s okay, Jay, it’s not your fault, and I’m fine, I’m okay.”

Well, that was a lie.  Hood clearly knows it as well because he disentangles enough to look Grayson in the face—and blanches.  “What happened?” he says quietly, cupping the side of Grayson’s face that’s still bandaged, “Your face—your eye—” Quick as a flash, Hood turns on Slade with a snarl, “What did you do to him, you bastard���”

“Jason, stop!” Grayson gets between them, his back to Slade, holding Hood’s shoulders, “Slade didn’t do anything to me, calm down.”

The light in Hood’s eyes is a little less manic when his gaze drops to Grayson.  “If it wasn’t him, then who?” Hood snaps.  Grayson doesn’t immediately answer.  “Dick.”

Slade crosses his arms and waits.  Grayson didn’t tell him the full story, but it’s easy—“Sionis,” Grayson exhales.

Enough to guess.

Hood’s face runs a full gamut of emotions in half a minute.  “Talia’s blacklisted Roman,” Hood says slowly, “That because of you?”

Grayson makes a weak smile and shrugs, “Difficult to do business with a man that insists on destroying your things.”

“Fucking hell, Dick,” Hood curses roundly, “Why the fuck—you can’t—stop trying to save me!”

The last one comes out as a shout, and far too loud.  Grayson’s pressed his lips in a thin line, Hood’s eyes are flickering, and the silence is heavy and tense.

Both of them flick a glance towards Slade.  “Don’t stop on my account,” he says mildly, “This is the most entertainment I’ve gotten all month.”

“Can we get a moment?” Hood asks, on the verge of rudeness.

“You paid for a visit,” Slade points out, “Not privacy.”

Grayson steps smoothly in front before Hood can retort, and asks quietly, “Can we purchase privacy then?”

Slade flicks a glance at Hood, who’s nearly vibrating in place, and Grayson, tense and desperate, and the way their hands are locked together, firm and tight.  He pushes off the wall and heads for the curtain, “Fine.”

“How much?” Hood calls out.

Slade smirks before he lets the curtain close behind him, “You get to find out.”

He ends up waiting outside the cell, absently sharpening a knife, hearing a low murmur too quiet to make out distinct words.  At one point, Hood’s voice rises into a tirade about Grayson’s intelligence and common sense, but it’s quickly hushed.  It’s close to the half hour when Hood comes stomping out.

“Well?” Hood crosses his arms, “What’s the price?”

Slade arches an eyebrow, “You’re not the one who has to pay.”

For a moment, he thinks Hood’s going to punch him.  The younger gladiator squeezes his hands into fists and his glare is vicious enough to set something on fire.  “If you hurt him—”

“What, Hood?” Slade cuts him off, “What will you do?  You can’t stop me, and Talia won’t stop me, so explain to me how exactly you propose to protect him?”  Hood is vibrating in place, a murderous statue.  “If you threaten me again, I won’t be so obliging to the next deal you want to make.”

The paleness is from fury and fear both, and Hood keeps his mouth shut as he roughly stomps past Slade.  Slade watches him go until his footsteps stop sounding, and then heads back inside.

Grayson is waiting for him, again sitting on the bed, hands crossed in his lap, gaze fixed on Slade.  “What is the price?” he asks quietly.  Evenly, for all that he’s tense and clearly scared.

“Answer some questions,” Slade says, taking the chair, “Honestly.”

Grayson looks suspicious.  “What questions?”

“What did Hood mean when he told you to stop trying to save him?”

Grayson purses his lips but deflates, leaning back, clearly resigned.  “It’s not really a secret,” he sighs, “I threw the match.”

It takes a second for Slade to comprehend.  “You threw it,” he repeats, “You threw the match.”

Grayson shoots him a half-irritated look, “I wasn’t going to kill Jay.”  Something crosses over his face, a flicker of the death that still hangs between them, the dead boy that Slade wants to avenge.  “And I—I knew they wouldn’t vote for my death,” Grayson says quietly, “Jay—I couldn’t take that risk.”

On the surface of it, it makes sense—Grayson’s made a name for himself, been pretty and charming at every sponsor that flits his way, there’s no way they’d let him die without extracting their pound of flesh.

“And Sionis?” Slade asks.

At this, Grayson’s face twists.  His gaze drops, and Slade doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously, but his hair drifts over the bandages, as if to conceal it.  “Sionis—has his preferences.”

“And Talia whores out the gladiators that aren’t doing well.”

Grayson’s expression twists further.  “Unless she had reason to doubt his self-restraint,” he says quietly, and Slade can see it.  Can see Grayson provoking Sionis until the man lashed out with a wound too egregious to ignore.  Lashings, brutality, blood and pain?  Fine, when it could all be concealed under shifting silks, and everyone wanted scars on a gladiator.

But a missing eye on one of the Arena’s prettiest warriors?  No, even Talia al Ghul, with all her animosity, couldn’t ignore that that was a step too far.

“Regardless of whether or not it worked, you had to know she would kill you for it,” Slade says.

Grayson doesn’t look him in the eye when he responds, “Talia was clear on my eventual fate from the very first day.”

Slade blinks.  With that interesting piece of information, Grayson shifts up the bed, until he can lean against the wall, and cracks open his book.  He doesn’t say anything else.

[lovefrombegonia]

TW // gore, torture

Yue Qingyuan dedicated most of his life for Shen Jiu. His rise to fame as the powerful Xuan Su sword, his traumatic saga of being broken in every possible way during his time trapped in Lingxi caves, and his eventual brutal death are all connected to SJ. His one promise to his Xiao Jiu meant more than his own life to him. Oh!! How much he loved SJ with every cell of his body. There is not a single reality, be it PIDW or SVSSS, where he didn't hesitate even a little bit before putting his own life on the line if it meant he can protect SQQ. To his own detriment and others', YQY loved all of SJ, his beauty and his cruelty alike. He accepted all of him. He would readily sell his soul for him...

So...I cannot....in a million years even begin to comprehend what he must have felt when he saw his beloved, beloved Xiao Jiu's severed legs sent to him in a fucking parcel.

[ohbluesky]

“Get it?” the man said, his snarl trying to morph into a grin.

this was either the most iconic or the most absurd shit i ever read so i had no choice but to draw it

[estro-gem]

Zooble x Gangle: Anywhere the wind blows

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's note: Welcome to this long-boi fic!

It's long and probably tedious to read, but overall, I'm actually pretty okay with how this turned out. Eh, kinda... I almost decided to scrap this entire thing and write something else, but I already got too far by that point and pushed through - trying to make the best of it.

It has a little bit of everything; some body dysphoria, action, violence, mutilation, stalking, maybe some bad-written tension and a nice section lil' of not-smut.

Good ol' not-smut!

Sorry to all the bunnydoll lovers, this is a zoogang story - and it's a pretty long one.

Bunnydoll is only briefly mentioned, but you also get some messed-up 'bromance' between Gangle and Jax, as well as Zooble losing their marbles while Jax is being Jax, doing Jax stuff...

Warnings:

Suggestive/vulgar language (Mostly censored, but worth mentioning)

Body dysphoria

Fighting

Dissociation

Panic attacks

Mutilation

Questionable dancing (?)

SUMMARY:

Zooble was making their way to the lake to go dancing with Gangle. Upon arrival, the sight of Gangle caused Zooble to reminisce about their arrival in The Amazing Digital Circus and the chaos that followed.

ANYWHERE THE WIND BLOWS

“You off to harass your crybaby with your terrible dance-moves again?”

Zooble rolled their mismatched eyes to the sound of Jax’s annoying voice. They were in a good mood; and begged whatever higher power there was for the bunny to just leave them be tonight.

“Sure am!” they spoke with an obviously false, chipper tone, deciding to give the menace a taste of his own medicine, “Are you off to make out with your plushie again?”

Zooble peeked over their shoulder to see if he had the reaction they were hoping for. Unfortunately, Jax still wore his stupid, smug grin, causing them to pause, attempting to find the words that would force a crack into the rabbit’s shield.

It wasn’t long before they spoke again, “Or would you rather be our little peeping tom – again?”

Finally, the Cheshire grin fell and Zooble had the honor of basking in Jax’s unimpressed scowl.

“That was one time!” the rabbit cried, then relaxed his stance to recollect his composure, “Ya know why I was there – and it definitely wasn’t to get an eyeful. You two are disgusting, in case ya didn’t notice. Who could get off to that?”

“You, apparently.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED AND YOU KNOW IT!”

“Whatever… freak.” Zooble turned around and continued to make their way to the tent entrance, smiling to themself. They would never let him live that down – context be damned.

“Yeh, go drown yourself, will ya?” They vaguely heard Jax’s voice call after them.

They definately prefered the rabbit as carefree as he carried himself these days, compared to how intense he used to be when they first arrived...

They were on their way to the lake, where they knew Gangle would be.

The ribbinoid had many hidden talents; dancing happened to be one of them. She could move as if she was gliding, and she could leap like she was flying. Zooble already felt the girl entice them from a distance as they approached the bank of the lake.

Gangle was always a beauty unlike any other when she was dancing on her own. Clearly, in her own world, she practically floated with grace as her ribbons – usually coiled and shortened to form a make-shift body – stretched out and twirled, elongated, and reflecting the moonlight with every scarlet shape they drew in the air. The stars that were mirrored on the water surface made it look like the masked ribbon was dancing in the sky.

The sight gently guided Zooble’s mind back to the first time they lost their heart to their masked princess. Back then, they were so different to how they acted now. They were traumatized by the realization that they were trapped in an unknown Digital hellscape, only accompanied by a handful of other prisoners.

Stuck in an abomination of body that they never wanted.

Zooble didn’t always look the way they did before. Then again, Zooble never even looked the way they did the day before! They liked to swap, match and mix their parts, storing them safely in a box that they kept in their room.

Sometimes they could feel them clawing at the confines of said box to get to her, but it was best not to think about that.

When they first fell prey to the Digital Circus, they were what many would describe as a monster. A mess of arms, heads, eyes, and limbs; all with a mind of their own. They couldn’t find their feet – there were too many of them!

Upon arrival, Zooble stumbled around like someone who was possessed, moving more like a spider than a human. They were disoriented and desperate as they helplessly tugged and pulled on the strings of this puppet that was apparently their new body. They had no mouth and yet they heard someone screaming hysterically. It would only be in the far future, when Zooble thought back to their arrival, when they would realize that it was them who was screaming.

They just had no mouth to realize it at the time.

They screamed as they witnessed the excessive limbs and eyes that sprouted from differently-shaped structures that only vaguely felt like their torso – only that it also felt like nothing of the sort, because it wasn’t normal to have 3 torsos.

Or eyes on your knees and arms that gave you 5 different perspectives of the room all at once…

They moved like a sandstorm, forcing the circus inhabitants into a blind panic. Their monstrous form resembled an abstraction; so much so, that they heard one of them cry out in question to Caine.

“Can humans abstract upon arrival?!”

They didn’t know what it meant. They didn’t care.

All they cared about was ripping off the excessive limbs that they never knew they had. To the creature’s horror, the limbs popped off with unnatural ease and scrambled on the floor to maneuver its way back to them. It was something that would keep even the bravest of souls awake at night.

When the ragdoll of the bunch slowly approached Zooble, (as they were in the process of tearing their own limbs off) something else possessed them.

Dolls should move or talk like humans!

It didn’t help how much the doll tried to talk them down – one moment, they just stared at the doll in disbelief, and the next, they charged her like a steam train. They were so inhumanly fast, but that didn’t phase Zooble at the time. They were only focused on one thing.

The raggedy-monster in front of them.

In a flash, the doll was within reach for Zooble to tear her apart. They were beside themself as they threw themselves onto Ragatha, only to feel the wind being knocked out of them when something abruptly crashed into them from the side, causing them to stray off course and stumble to the floor.

Claws.

Claws were digging into their brightly-coloured shell and flesh. Claws swiped burning trenches of pain in their wake. They caught the blurry image of yellow eyes and a feral grin that was pulled into a snarl before they felt one of their eyes pop between its jaws.

It was a pain worthy of unlocking the gateway of the fourth horseman.

Zooble fought and scrambled for grip on the gaint, rabid hare. They were terrified and acting in blind desperation as their many limbs with multiple claws, digits and shapes grabbed and thrashed at anything that could get the purple creature off them. They were going to fight until at least one of them was lying motionlessly on the floor.

Zooble wasn’t going to die to a bunny.

Neither were prepared to be yanked from each other and held apart. Two other creatures grabbed the purple rabbit by both arms in attempt to restrain him, but even with 2 against one, the rabbit put up one hell of a fight. While the bunny only had eyes for Zooble, desperate and mindless in his pursuit to rip into them, they took the moment to spot the scarlet ribbons that were rapped around their being. They followed the trail of ribbons that kept them immobilized, only to see it led to a mask with a painted face, scrunched up in effort, yet strangely smiling while keeping them restrained.

They tugged and twisted, but the ribbons seemed to have metal in them as they were unable to tear them up. It was but a few moments that Zooble struggled before they were overcome with a wave of dread that crashed over them, leaving the poor creature to sink down into a lowered stance.

They couldn’t escape.

They were a monster.

They were going to be eaten by other monstrous creatures and there was nothing else they could do about it.

When did they start trembling so violently?

Although they awaited the onslaught of the other inhabitants to tear into them, they were only met with the tight grip of the ribbons that held them down. The events that followed, all happened in a blur. They saw the rabbit slowly grow still and lose interest in them, only to fix his gaze on the ragdoll Zooble attempted to charge before. He seemed to be talked down by what looked like an oversized chess piece with a purple robe.

In the next moment, the rabbit was free. He rushed to the doll. He looked her over with a rough hand, only to grasp her forearm and drag her off to somewhere that was out of their line of sight. He didn’t react to anything or anyone else – clearly on a mission to get away.

There was a commotion…

And suddenly, Zooble was alone, while still being restrained by the ribbon-creature with a mask. They numbly wondered why the others would leave this one alone with them.

The thoughts didn’t last too long, as they were suddenly weightless and free.

They stumbled back and curled into themself as they fixed their eyes on the mess of ribbons that shrunk and coiled into something that resembled a body while the owlish gaze of the painted mask danced over their unusual, messy form. She averted their eyes and tilted her chin down, almost in shame.

There was a beat of silence until she spoke in a pleasantly soft voice.

“Are you still hurt?”

Zooble refused to answer but enjoyed hearing the ribbonoid creature speak to them in the now quiet, empty space. Taking a moment to consider her question, they came to the sudden realization that they were mauled and bitten before. Unintentionally startling the ribbinoid, they grabbed at their body, feeling, and grasping at their form and eyes with their many limbs, only to find that the damage was suddenly gone.

As if it never happened.

The Zolo-being looked back to the masked ribbon, who was studying them closely.

“Yeah, that’s something we all were rattled by at first” She said carefully, trying to decide on what eyes she should be looking to, “We can get hurt here - and it wouldn't matter. We… we can’t die here... It’s hard to explain." the girl shook her head, then assumed a more confident tone, "But this Digital Circus is your home now, whether you like it or not. You need to understand this to survive.”

Even though the woman’s voice was working to a swell in intensity, Zooble didn’t understand anything that was said. Even though they didn’t have a face, it was evident. The girl, of course, noticed this and sighed.

“Look, if you are going to hurt my friends every time you become overwhelmed, you should just stay away.” she spoke firmly, “If you don’t, it’ll be me you’ll need to answer to.”

With that, she turned on her heels and walked without looking back.

For days - weeks, that was the last time Zooble interacted with anyone. They took Gangle’s advice, having learnt her name while creeping around the tent. They stayed away, hiding among the debris and structures that was scattered around the tent. The inhabitants were somehow assured by Gangle, who just shared that ‘the newcomer will remain out of their business.’

Zooble actually got to know bits of all of the inhabitants of the Circus, like, for example, that the doll who they launched themself at. She was called Ragatha and she was unfortunately a saint. They wanted the earth to swallow them whole with how ashamed they felt for ever thinking to harm her of all people. They also came to know that Jax was the animal that attacked them – and that he was the most unpleasant of the bunch, bullying everyone for his own personal enjoyment.

He especially mistreated Gangle… and for some reason, that just didn’t sit well with Zooble, but they were too busy staying out of sight to think about it too much or do anything about it. They couldn’t even move around properly, let alone stand up for someone they barely knew. To their surprise, it seemed like all of the inhabitants just swallowed Jax's bullying - no questions asked.

There was something seriously wrong with this place.

Other than unholy screeching when they first arrived, Zooble was stunned to silence. It felt too alien to speak with no mouth, let alone allow anyone to see what a horrifying monstrosity they’ve become. They settled on watching the cast interact and live their lives. It was slowly becoming Zooble’s new reality – living in the shadows and remaining unnoticed.

Well, almost unnoticed.

The abomination never comprehended it fully, but Gangle always knew exactly where they were. She could walk into the area and in a matter of seconds, their eyes would meet. It came to a point where Zooble didn’t care about Gangle exposing their place of hiding anymore, as there were countless times that she would spot Zooble and just nod in quiet acknowledgement. She even saved Zooble from being spotted or disturbed a handful of times.

It was like a special, unspoken agreement that only they shared.

An exchange.

Gangle intrigued Zooble to no end. She was so quiet, but always watching - always aware. Always thinking. Zooble would give anything to know what was going on in her head. She was also unique in the sense on having 2 faces! One bright and smiling, and the other muddled and tearful.

Zooble liked to see her smile, but that damn rabbit always had the nerve to break her mask...

They should've killed him when they had the chance.

It wasn’t until one fateful night when Zooble managed to evade Gangle’s eyes while exploring the grounds, only to mistakenly stumble onto the lake. Not only that, but they also unintentionally found Gangle on the bank of the lake.

Words couldn't describe the beauty that they saw.

She was dancing under the stars, while Zooble could only watch in awe. It was the most beautiful event they have ever witnessed, suffering at the rush of heat the overtook their form as the quietly looked on... trying to move closer for a better visual…

SNAP

With the snap of a twig, Gangle’s dance was over.

She quickly retracted her ribbons to form her body once again, calling out to whomever crept up on her private moment. She called Jax's name first, much to Zooble's annoyance. Gangle was flustered; eyes darting around to find the intruder, only to miss Zooble’s form that was cramped and crushed behind a bush.

They were annoyed with themself for ruining such a beautiful scene. Zooble silently hoped for the girl to brush it off and continue, longing to see the blissful look on her face as she danced once again, but to their dismay, Gangle turned to walk towards the direction of the tent, not quite smiling as brightly as before.

That couldn’t be the end of it!

“Wait!” Zooble’s voice cried out before they could think to keep quiet.

Was that what they sounded like?

Gangle visibly jumped at the new voice, before darting their eyes to the source – the bush Zooble was hiding behind. Zooble would’ve commended the girl's auditory skills in any other situation, but there was only one thought that came to mind at the time. They huffed out a breath, before speaking again, trying to look past the dissociation they felt to their voice.

“Stay.” They pleaded, while awkwardly maneuvering into the moonlight, casting a long, spider-like shadow to trail behind them, “Dance.”

Gangle’s eyes were initially wide, but eventually fell into an unreadable expression once the shock of seeing Zooble – of hearing Zooble for the first time, faded. The ribbonoid was overcome with an unexplainable joy upon hearing them speak - but they could not make a fuss! She wouldn't want the poor creature to be scared away again. She already regretted to only official conversation the had...

The silence stretched for so long, that the multi-legged creature nearly jumped when Gangle lifted her arm to hold it out to Zooble, “Dance with me.”

That was not what they expected.

Dumbfounded, Zooble looked down at their mess of a body, using the highest arm to gesture to the excessive number of limbs they had, before hesitantly speaking up. “I can’t.”

“You can if I can.” Gangle stretched and twirled her body into a little sequence, before resuming her form and looking at Zooble in a challenge, “You and I are the same, aren’t we?”

How was it possible for a woman to be so timid, and yet so steady?

“What?” Zooble frowned in confusion, blurting out before they could think, “How? You’re a bunch of ribbons with a face!”

“You’re a bunch of parts.” Gangle countered, seemingly brimming with confidence, “We are not one body, we are more, aren’t we?”

“I’m a load of junk.” Zooble tore their gaze away to attempt at hiding the blush that crept up their form, ashamed of what they resembled, “Spare parts that don’t even fit together. I don’t even have a mouth.” There was a brief pause, before they quietly added, “You make it look so beautiful…”

They never thought that they would admit it, but they were at the mercy of the truth. Gangle officially became their muse and they didn’t have a say in the matter.

Gangle surprised Zooble with her giggle, only to sigh in retort, “You’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

The statement made the misshaped being scoff, “Geez, thank you for your oh so sweet compliment. Look at me, I’m practically swooning at your praise.”

Zooble was insulted, but the genuine laugh that Gangle let out was so lovely that it almost didn’t feel like they were being gutted by a ribbon.

“Well, I don’t see what could be beautiful about a freakshow like me.” Gangle chuckled gesturing to herself to emphasize her point. Zooble couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“You kidding?” they huffed in expiration, “Did you not see yourself just then? It’s alien, sure, but you were great! You were-”

“-unlike anything you’ve ever seen before?” The girl cut them off with a cheeky grin.

“Fine, touché.” Zooble mumbled reluctantly.

The atmosphere was lighter than before, and Gangle took it as an invitation to take a tentative step closer to her new aquantance. She was itching to know more about them; desperate to close the gap in the odd relationship they managed to build over time. Despite not directly interacting with each other, Gangle had to admit to herself that she did feel a level of attachment to the creature that she once told off.

It was a shame that things turned out the way they did.

If Gangle had known that a conversation, like this one, could’ve had her laughing in enjoyment, she would’ve tried harder a long time ago. For now, she just focused on keeping the conversation going. Her mind was racing - deducing that this creature could become a part of their group if they managed to hold out on their own for this long.

It definitely wasn't because her stomach flipped every time she felt their eyes fixate on her from their hiding-spots.

“When you, um, walk…?” Gangles spoke, hoping to keep the conversation going, “Move around-?”

“Keep going, I get it-”

Gangle huffed a laugh, before hesitantly gushing what she intended as praise, “You look like… a force. You look powerful and strong – like you’ll pummel anything in your way.”

Zooble cringed slightly, not knowing how to feel, “Thanks?”

“I wish I could be that.” Gangle breathed, before sinking into herself slightly, “One mistake – one tug, one knock – and I’m broken.”

“What are you talking about?” Zooble spoke in disbelief, “You held me down while almost being torn apart by a savage animal! You ARE a force.  You are probably even stronger than I am!”

“You don’t understand.” Gangle’s smile was bitter, causing Zooble heart sink, “I wasn’t talking about my ribbons.”

Suddenly, it clicked.

“Oh yeah… You have two faces.”

Gangle placed a ribbon on her cheek, dragging it down along the side, “This one is fragile. It needs replacement almost every other day. Even then, I can’t wear it too much. I lose myself to insanity and sadism. I become – dependent on it… Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No.” It didn’t benefit Zooble to lie.

“That’s ok.” Gangle laughed in thought, though it seemed darker than her previous giggles, “The others do.”

Zooble took a step closer to the ribbonoid, deciding that her previous statement was something akin to a personal confession. Other than that, they wanted to see Gangle really smile again.

“Should I be worried?” they asked with genuine concern. She only shook her head, before explaining things that Zooble didn’t really understand, but indulged the girl any way they could.

“If something happens to me, it’s best that you get Jax.”

If something happens?

“Jax, the bunny guy? Isn’t he an $&%#@$?” Zooble jolted at the harsh, sudden sound of a horn drowning their voice. “Wha-?”

“Live censors – You’ll get used to it.” Gangle dismissed too easily for Zooble’s liking, “Jax - he knows his place. He’s my best friend.”

Upon Gangle’s fond smile, Zooble felt their gut – where-ever it my be – twist. A thought ghosted over their mind that Gangle may have been delusional after all.

“I don’t think you understand how badly he’s been treating you.” They spoke curtly.

“You just don't understand what it takes to stay sane here. Don't worry, you’ll come to learn how we all work together.” Gangle dismissed once again, only frustrating Zooble more, “Jax has his place. I have mine – everyone here has theirs.” She smiled up to the amalgamation, “One day, you’ll find yours.”

“Ok. Whatever.” Zooble simply said, frustrated, “We don’t have to talk about this now."

Gangle just chuckled as if she knew something that they didn’t.

They decided that it was best just to give up trying to understand the Circus and everyone’s dynamics. Zooble was cut short by Gangle holding out her ribbon for Zooble to take. They almost did it out of sheer compulsion.

“Will you have this dance with me?” the ribbonoid invited once again.

Her smile was like a drug, inhibiting Zooble from opposing her. The Zolo-being rolled their eyes to themself and took a breath to muster the will to remind the Gangle that they couldn’t dance.

For all they knew, they could be dancing themself into selling their soul or something.

...

Damn it all...

What did any of this matter anyway?

“Shut up and come here.”

With Gangle’s melodic laugh echoing in their mind, they dragged the girl to the open clearing on the bank of the lake.

It started out as a messy, clumsy jumble of limbs and ribbons, but as they relaxed and laughed into the night, their movements gained purpose and sequence. Together, they found their rhythm in the presence of no music, and their forms moved in sync.

Before long, their bodies were no longer separated.

They were one.

One in touch, mind, soul, and breath. They’re hands became their news eyes. Their bodies bloomed into voices that spoke words of unfathomable desire and yearning. They melting to each other’s caress and motions.

Two people dancing under the moonlight, living in the moment, and lost in the little world of heated passion that they have created for themselves.

They were somewhere else.

Laughing.

Yearning.

Breathless.

Both hoped for the magic to last forever...

It ended all too soon.

Zooble opened their eyes again. They were met with the harsh reality of a milky, porcelain mask smiling at them. They already longed for the woman from before; the one who they allowed to soar with the stars. That woman was everything they ever wanted in this life; maybe even in the previous life. How they would crumble for that woman to smile at them… but seeing such a petite little being smile at her as she was currently doing…

Zooble decided that it would suffice to see this smile too.

What they would give to have lips…

As if reading their mind, Zooble suddenly became aware of the intimate embrace of ribbons wrapped around them. Gangle felt so sure and steady, while they felt like they would crumble into a pile of useless parts. They couldn’t tear their gaze away from the soft, owlish stare given by the ribbinoid, suffering under the sudden burst of butterflies when they felt her new dance partner squeeze.

Butterflies.

Nothing could stop the sound that left them.

Nothing could stop Gangle's forehead from colliding with what she assumed to be Zooble's head with a soft ‘clink,’ sharing breaths they didn’t need. If they had a say in the matter, they wouldn't let her go, but that just wasn't how Zooble's mind worked. Unlike Gangle, they couldn't cling to a dream for long - they always found their feet planted on the ground of reality - this new reality.

Zooble knew this moment couldn’t last.

Based on what Gangle said before, they realized that staying sane was the key to survival in the digital world.

It was only a matter of time before another day started at the Circus. Zooble didn’t know much, but they did know that Gangle and the others had grown used to sleep. As much as they just wanted to die in her arms that night, they didn’t want to break her routine – anyone’s routine for that matter. From what Zooble could tell, it was one of the things that the members had to do to stay sane. Now, grown fond of Gangle, they wanted to see her make it through this torment of a life they were trapped in.

So, they had to let the girl go for now.

“We need to go.” Zooble’s voice was so low and hushed, they almost didn’t recognize themself.

“No, wait! We can stay a bit longer.” Gangle sounded so pretty when she was desperate. Zooble clung to the pride of causing the girl to beg for them.

So soft. So delicate.

“I’ll still be here when you wake up. We can have this again, can’t we?”

“You don’t know that!”

“Gangle.” Zooble was stern, but still gentle, “We need to stay sane. We need routine. It’s so wonderful that I found you…” they trailed one of their many hands over the ribbons wrapped around their torse, reveling in their trembling as her touch glides by, “I want to keep you. I need you sane. We need to survive this together.”

Silence.

It was a strenuous reality check, but it was necessary. They couldn’t dwell in their dreams forever.

“Ok, but we’ll meet each other here again! At least once a week! This was…” Gangle looked off to the side, seemingly bashful, “This was magical.”

“Call me a magician, then!” Zooble jested, earning a giggle from the girl as they did their best to nuzzle into Gangle's mask, “Go on to your room. I need to make sure I didn’t lose any arms while we were throwing our sick moves for the world to see.”

After a cackle, Gangle loosened her grip around Zooble to form the shape of her body once again, “I can help you look?”

“Don’t make it weird, Smiley. Go!”

Smiley.

Gangle seemed to like that one.

“I’m sorry! I’m going, I’m going!” Gangle almost sprinted off, only looking back to call back to Zooble, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

"You always do!"

Zooble was smiling to themself, but got cut short when they heard Gangle let out an ‘oof,’ followed by the sound of a thud. Spinning around to see just how the ribbonoid embarrassed herself, Zooble’s body was jolted with the shock of seeing two sadistic, yellow eyes gleam down at Gangle, who had tripped over a deliberately extended foot. Due to the padding of the grass, Gangle’s mask didn’t break – thank goodness – but the abomination’s relief was short-lived as those golden orbs slowly focused on them.

Jax.

The bunny was casually leaning against the trunk of the tree with his gaze fixed on them. This time, his ever-grinning expression was unreadable, forcing a shiver to crawl up their back.

That creep.

Gangle’s eyes shifted from Jax to Zooble, again and again, until she seemed to hiss something to Jax, soft enough for the Zolo-creature not to hear from the great distance. Jax didn’t pay her any mind, as his predatory gaze set straight onto them and them alone. Gangle gave Zooble one more worried glance, to which they just reluctantly nodded; the girl should leave them be.

It was high time for Jax to face the music, Zooble decided.

Gangle also seemed reluctant, but slowly stood up. It was then when Jax closely traced her movements with his eyes. All the while, Zooble was left with a lump in their throat as they waited for Jax to try his luck again. They were so far away, Zooble would only be able to watch him do whatever he wished before they could come to Gangle’s aid. He looked ready to rip her apart and there was nothing they could do but watch.

They watched – holding their breath, as Gangle stood up…

They watched – as Gangle turned and noticed Jax's eyes on her.

They expected the ribbonoid to fearfully back away, but Zooble's world was flipped onto it's head when they saw her stand her ground by giving Jax the most sinister smile they had ever witnessed.

Bone-chilling. Wicked.

Jax’s smile couldn’t ever match what was painted on that theatre mask. They were almost certain that Jax would retaliate any second…

But his assault never came.

 There was only a slight shift in his stance – enough to let their breathe hitch. The silence was a cacophony of chaos pounding into Zooble’s head.

For a moment there was nothing, until Gangle finally moved.

She slowly turned on her heels and walked off to the tent, as if nothing happened. It was so bizarre, they almost thought that she managed to cast a spell over Jax, who was frozen in place at the time. By the Lord, she already cast a spell over them with her charms.

Scary smile or not, that woman was irresistable!

It was only when Gangle disappeared into the tent, that Jax’s eyes were fixed onto them again.

“So, it can speak.” At least Jax’s voice rung as annoying as ever, “Nice moves you got there... What do you call the one where you two practically #@% each other in public? And by that, I mean ALL of it?”

“What do you want?” Zooble spat.

They didn’t want anything to do with him.

“I want us to come to an understanding.” Jax pushed off the tree trunk and strolled his way closer to the amalgamation, “I know you gave Raggs quite a scare before… now you’re throwing yourself at Ribbons, huh? Quite the womaniser, aren'cha?”

Zooble took note of the glimmering flash that came from Jax’s hand, letting their eyes drift to see what it could be. Dread had Zooble’s soul sink to their many feet.

He was holding a cleaver knife this entire time.

He was standing over Gangle – knife in hand - and one swipe away from tearing their muse apart.

All for a sick little laugh?!

At that moment, they were human again, forgetting about their digital immortality that they all were cursed with.

“Now you listen to me very carefully,” Zooble growled as Jax’s icy grin stalked closer, “I’ve been watching you for a long time now, and I still don’t know what your deal is. You are lower than dirt and you think you just own the tent, don’t you? Thinking no one would care about you making everyone’s lives difficult? I wasn’t even here for that long, but even I can see that Ragatha is an ANGEL, and you didn’t think twice about throwing an axe into her face the other day! It’s disgusting! You are scum! Filth! And I don’t care what your deal is with me, but if you ever hurt Gangle o-or Ragatha... or ANYONE else for that matter, I will make it my life mission to make you beg me to kill you instead of what I have planned.”

That brought Jax to a complete stop.

Not only did he stop, but his face fell to one of confusion, then dread, then confusion again. It was so uncanny, it was almost funny. Zooble found themself so dumbstruck by that reaction, that they forgot what their train of thought was leading to.

They never saw this side of the bunny before.

Moments crawled by in complete silence, with nothing but confused expressions meeting each other. It wasn’t until Zooble awkwardly cleared their throat before Jax seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in.

“Well, wouldn’t you know…” Jax mused almost to himself, casually shoving the knife into his front pocket, “You actually managed to fib me, huh? And here I thought that you’d be something I needed to take care of.”

He laughed. If Zooble didn’t know any better, she’d think that he was relieved.

“What’s happening?” Zooble asked dumbly.

“What’s happening is that you, my friend, are one of us now! Jax-approved! You killed me with your flattery - I knew I was good, but I didn't know I was that good.” Jax flashed them the smug, know-it-all smile that they still hated so much. He was probably planning to make a fool out of them, but still, they didn’t understand the sudden, genuine shift in Jax’s aura – it was suddenly almost… bearably benign.

It was whiplash!

“Again, what's happening…?”

“Sheesh, what does she see in you? You’re so slow!” Jax sighed, but continued to boredly explain, before they had the chance to retort, “I couldn’t get a read on ya before! Ya seemed mighty interested in Ribbons though – sneaking around, staring at her, and stalking her to the lake and all-”

“I wasn’t stalking her!”

“Yeh, yeh, whatever – so I just happened to swing by and… step in… if you ended up trying somethin’ with the crybaby. That’s all there is to it.”

Zooble blinked before glancing down to the cleaver knife in his pocket, slowly piecing it all together.

Did he have a heart after all?

“You were going to shank me if I messed with Gangle?” Zooble narrowed her eyes.

“Shank ya? Nah, not my style, toots.” Jax abruptly plucked the cleaver knife from his front pocket and threw it into a nearby tree without looking. If it wasn’t for the squawk, followed by the sounds of glitching, Zooble would’ve missed that Jax successfully hit a bird with a lethal blow – now pinned to the tree trunk with a knife through its chest. It disappeared soon after it started glitching, only leaving the blade in the trunk. It seemed to Zooble, now clear as ever.

Jax didn’t miss.

Feelings of intimidation aside, Zooble recalled Gangle’s words from before. She called Jax her best friend, not even hesitant to say it, despite how badly he was treating her – how badly he was treating everyone! And yet, he came out here, thinking that they were stalking Gangle… armed with a knife...

They leaned unto one hip to relax their stance, “You were looking out for her…”

Huh.

“Bah! I’m just makin’ sure you don’t steal my schtick.” Jax rolled his eyes, “I do what I need to do.”

His words made Zooble’s thoughts flip back to what Gangle said before.

'You’ll come to learn how we all work together. He has his place. I have mine – everyone here has theirs. One day, you’ll find yours.'

“What exactly is it that you do?” They asked, hoping to get some answers for once. “Gangle said something about you all ‘playing your part’ or whatever…”

“Yeah, no, not having this discussion with ya, sorry bub.” Jax started walking off in the direction of the tent, seemingly done with the conversation. Zooble’s eye twitched.

“What do you mean?!”

“Not what I do, ugly. I just play my part.” Jax smile creeps up to a taunting grin, “Go talk to Raggs. Explainin’ these things to new suckers is her part.”

“But what’s your part?” Zooble raised their voice not only in frustration, but also because Jax was making greater distance between them as he continued walking.

“This is my part!”

“What do you mean ‘this is?’ What’s ‘this?’”

“Ask Raggs~!”

“And what do I do? What's my part!?”

“Bye~!”

“Mother@$@#%!!”

Some fanart of this fic: (CLICK HERE TO SEE)

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

Additional Author's note: If you read the whole thing with all of the mistakes I didn't notice to fix, you are a legend!

[ftm-girl-evie]

Gosh, one of my biggest regrets is cutting my breasts off. I used to have so soft, so round, so womanly breasts and now all I have is a bit of a dogear, asymmetric chest and big, red scars. I can't believe I ruined my female body like that. And for what? I'll never be a real man. I'll always be a biological woman, I can't change my chromosomes. I wish I didn't make such a silly decision. I should’ve been told by an intelligent man not to act on my silly feelings...

But I'm sure it's very normal and all trans men feel like this ... right?

[wolfhidewinter]

I swear I have more than just traumatized werewolves somewhere. This is Henry so far. About 7k words deep into a story about him

[little-bloodied-angel]

As someone who's permanently physically disabled as a result of an abusive relationship some of y'all's takes on Izzy are fucking UNHINGED. Like "I hope you never go near an abuse survivor, EVER, in your life" levels of revolting. I shouldn't be struggling for breath with a panic attack after trying to scroll through a blog for pictures but here we are.

Nobody, nobody, can ever deserve being physically mutilated by someone they trusted. Nope, not the assholes either. And nobody can do that to someone else and claim it was their fault for being an asshole. And nobody can traumatize MULTIPLE PEOPLE and point to that other person as the source of the problem. What the FUCK are you talking about.

(ok to rb but if you start arguing that "well, actually" I'll block you)

[eretzyisrael]

By TOVAH LAZAROFF

(Warning: This story describes deeply disturbing events and testimonials in graphic detail.) Expressions of agony survived their deaths, army reservist Shari Mendes said as she described what experts saw when they identified and prepared for burial the bodies of female victims of Hamas’s October 7 massacre. “These women arrived with their eyes open, their mouths grimacing, their fists clenched,” said Mendes, whose IDF rabbinical unit worked with the bodies, all of which were brought to the IDF’s Shura base.

The more we find out, the worse it gets. Go to the article if you want the details. They are truly awful.

[3phoria]

Cleaning blvdes?

Any info about this would be much appreciated, sorry I put all these random tags I just wanna reach people who know abt safely cvtting.

[bloodybosom]

Thanks @heartofmontana

[kathaynesart]

Replica Update

Replica Spoiler/WIP under the cut.  Figured I’d show some of the art before I cover it with text bubbles and Donnie’s visor data/info.  Slow but steady.  Thank you as always for your patience!