#we really only just met

[aalghul]

once again thinking about jason as duke’s robin. he’s ~4 years younger than jason, and that puts him at 8-12 during Jason’s time as robin. that’s prime time to get attached to your local kid vigilante before your own life goes downhill.

and if we try to keep duke’s meeting with bruce in zero year + duke’s age (so he can remember the meeting and hold that conversation with bruce), he has to be around 8. if he starts following batman through the news at that time because of the mess that just happened, the robin he sees is probably jason. I’ve literally connected the dots

[lizzylucky]

Draxum hadn't accounted for the fact that when he gave four hatchling turtles the DNA of a human being in order to give them greater intelligence, he would effectively be making himself a surrogate father to actual children, with wildly different needs.

When he sent his gargoyles to obtain a sample of DNA from Big Mama's prized warrior, the intention was to create his own. They were to be the prototypes for an army of simple creatures with just enough heightened intelligence to learn combat and follow commands, that he might defend Yokai kind with.

Instead, he quickly discovered the integration of human DNA had been a little over successful in allowing his test subjects to learn and think and feel in a civilized manner, going so far as to override some of their natural instincts as turtles that would otherwise allow them to learn to care for themselves. He had to feed them, by hand, with bottles.

Like infants.

They were easily distraught by unfamiliar things, and quickly became dependent on Draxum in every sense of the word. They babbled, they cried, they explored things with their hands, their tails, their mouths.

It was an unplanned adjustment needed to be made, but no matter. If anything, learning to understand the new hybrid emotions of these turtles would allow Draxum greater advantages when they grew enough to safely learn combat. Preferences, likes and dislikes, needs, diet, and so on, all became more complex areas of study.

Even a couple years in, he found himself continually surprised. Brain scans had shown that the turtles were more intelligent, still, than anticipated. They, truly, seemed more human in mind and function than anything else, with only some base instincts and behaviors left to influence their personalities. They retained many reptilian traits, but overall had the bipedal anatomy and function of humans and some Yokai. It had been an infuriating discovery at first, but Draxum had to admit that over time he became fond of it.

Each turtle had developed his own personality. The eldest, for example, had a love of plush toys, and showed a fierce protective instinct over the others. The youngest, Draxum had learned, was contrastedly reckless and excitable, not nearly so reserved or gentle as the first. Additionally, he was, decidedly, to be kept away from any and every writing utensil unless under strict supervision (unfortunately, this was learned a little too late, as was evidenced by the clear markings left in several work benches). Then, of course, were the slider and the softshell, who had the most bizarre relationship. They were constantly fighting with each other, but utterly inseparable, and each showed an incredible and unique curiosity, constantly exploring and watching and studying, with concentration filling their eyes in ways Draxum had never seen in other children so young.

Embarrassingly, it took another couple years before Draxum realized he couldn't simply refer to them by their species' names. It certainly was effective, but they were not the mild, simple creatures he had once expected them to be, and he knew that they never would.

Now, they were vocal, playful, inquisitive... energetic. By the gods, were they energetic. They never stopped moving, never stopped talking, never stopped eating, never stopped wanting or needing.

...This is why Draxum never had children of his own. It took all the time and energy he had to spare, and then some. Although it would be a lie to say he wished they were any other way.

They had so much capacity to learn, and with their emotional propensity could one day come to understand exactly why Draxum was doing this, which he knew would be an edge in their combative styles.

As he introduced them, slowly, to more of the world's culture and knowledge, he felt, in a new way, that their very existences were revolutionary. A perfect, synergistic unity between two entirely different families of genetic material, with numerous enhanced abilities. And they were children. They maintained all the properties of regular children, but had so much more in store! Such grand destinies! They would be, inarguably, the greatest warriors of their time when they were grown. They would be the compassionate, skillful heroes of all Yokai, the first of a new generation of super mutants, and the key to overcoming the evils of the humans who had overtaken the surface and posed such threat to all who lived below.

It was with great reluctance that he allowed himself to accept, however, that not all of mankind was evil. There were many forms of art, beautiful in different ways, there were some rare people filled with kindness, inventions that utilized resources in ways Yokai kind had never thought to. Perhaps he had been a little stubborn in his ways, a bias cementing over time that blinded him to some of the beauty that did yet exist in such a species.

Make no mistake, humans were a threat. Innocent families lived in fear, in hiding, of the governments and ruthless sciences designed to invade, to blaspheme the name of knowledge, with no regard for the safety of this people.

Draxum could live with being an outlaw to the Yokai if his experiments would lead to their salvation. He may be their villain in today's papers, but in history books he would be a hero.

Still, he wished to amend some of his practices. Even if only to his turtles, he would be known for his ability to change and understand. He would be fair, and he would be truthful.

And so it was that he told the turtles the nature of their existence. Perhaps he muted some of the details, to protect their minds until they had more understanding, but he would not lie to them about their DNA. He told them of Lou Jitsu, and their human genetics, and he begrudgingly allowed them access to the culture of the humans. He would let them choose their interests unbiased.

In the process, he came to know of some of the revolutionaries of human history. Though he wasn't particularly inclined to believe there were no evils involved, he was intrigued by the strange moral code that the humans boasted from their different time periods. The turtles, as well, were fascinated by the stories of war heroes and generals, seamstresses and inventors, artists and royalty.

Initially, when it came time to redesignate his turtles, Draxum had been inclined toward the names of those whose legacies persisted in the humans' culture even today- perhaps a president for the slider, a scientist for the softshell, a great general for the snapper, and an artist for the young box turtle. It seemed, somehow, clandestinely right; carefully considered to exemplify each of their personalities.

And although he had begun to get used to the possibility of names like "Monroe" and "Edison", his indecision on the matter seemed to be working against him. He was taking too long, and the boys were growing smarter.

It was a day in August, later that year, that he found his two youngest arguing over a Renaissance book, oddly enough. The elder two took to a game of knocking "secret patterns" on each other's carapaces, which he dismissed before he could allow himself the confusion that came with wondering why a five year old would want to knock on a spiked shell for fun.

After breaking up the fight and confiscating the book (which, as it turned out, the youngest only wanted because it had pictures in it, much to the chagrin of the other, who insisted that reading it was much better than just looking at the pictures), Draxum found himself idly flipping through pages of rustic images and rudimentary ideas, developed by people with strange names.

Maybe he was simply too tired to consider it properly, but, feeling defeated in his endeavor, he chose four names at random and assigned them to the young turtles, deciding it had been long enough.

It took a while to get used to, but soon "Raphael", "Leonardo", "Donatello", and "Michaelangelo" truly fit.

Over time, the boys grew... ravenous. They devoured everything- food, information, technique. They were learning quickly everything Draxum taught them. They practiced with Huginn and Muninn, leapt up, around, over, and through everything in the lab, and took special interest in action-filled films.

And Draxum grew fonder. He wasn't entirely surprised, of course; it's natural to develop some sense of sentimentality when caring for anything this long. Even if they had been the simple minded turtles he expected, he knew this was inevitable, to a degree.

What startled him was the sudden sense of fear that came with watching them train. The alarm that made his heart beat harder when one of them fell from somewhere high or any time they ran simple drills with weapons not blunted and made from wood.

He subtly began to intensify their defensive strategies, taught them where they were most vulnerable so they could protect those spots, insisted on perfecting their abilities to parry, block, and dodge before anything else.

And, over time, he found himself training them less often than before, thinking, "I must preserve their innocence and prolong their childhood experiences". After all, it was an essential part of development, was it not? If it were tarnished too much, they might become unwise or unjust as warriors. And, really, Raphael was only 8 years old, and he was the eldest; they were much too young to be exposed to the harshness of what their combative training was really for.

He told himself that, time and time again. He told them that, making certain they understood that their training was not a game. It wasn't untrue, certainly.

Really, he just wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to admit to what extent he cared about them, because it was too much. It was more than he could ever have been prepared for. It was more than that passion to protect Yokai kind ever was, and if he ever realized that, he might become the compromise to his own purposes, to the very reason these turtles exist this way to begin with, and then what? What was he to tell them, why was he to train them, who did they exist for if not the inhabitants of the Hidden City?

No. He couldn't do that. He simply would not allow it, not when so much was at stake.

And yet...

More and more often he desired simply to watch them. He was growing weary with worry, and with that tight feeling that arose in his chest each time one of his boys so much as frowned.

Raphael loved to carry his brothers on his shoulders. And he prided himself on being the big brother, in every way. He liked repeating instructions Draxum gave to the others, and tended to play caretaker anytime someone was sad, or had a bruised knee. He often played the "bad guy" in their made up games so the younger ones could "win", he was the mediator in big decisions, like what book they should read before bed, and he seemed always ready with an armful of stuffed animals when he wanted to express affection. So strong, incredibly strong, but soft spoken and sweet.

Leonardo adored Raphael. Just as Raphael did Draxum, Leonardo liked to imitate and repeat instructions. He tended to take charge in many of their childish endeavors, and had a propensity for dramatics and heroism, often pretending to rescue his brothers. This seemed to irritate Donatello to no end, unless he was also playing the hero, and often times he was. The two were usually glued to the hip, though Leonardo liked to make a point to tell all his brothers about everything that went on, and would take a movie night with the three of them over a one on one outing with Draxum any day. He was exuberant and joyous, and very driven by the concept of justice.

Donatello, similarly, seemed to care very dearly about maintaining a bond with all three of his brothers, but he was peculiar, often more reserved and enjoying his alone time. That child read and read like he might never get a chance to again, and he absorbed what he read like a sponge. Quite a few times Draxum found him pulling apart whatever he could get his hands on, and though an effort was made, there was no hiding place the boy couldn't discover in his quest for Draxum's tools. In spite of his quizzical, sometimes stoic nature, Donatello was sensitive, and very thoughtful. He would spend hours talking about his books and his ideas- some of which were very clever- and he was expressive in secondary ways- sitting nearer his brothers even without interacting, crafting things out of paper as gifts. Even the little heart-shaped mark on the back of his soft shell seemed a fitting part of him- he wore his heart on his sleeve, so to speak, and didn't even realize it.

And Michaelangelo. There was an innocence and joy and goodness about the smallest turtle that had struck Draxum. Even when he was younger he always wore a smile and liked to see the good side of things. And he idolized his brothers. With him had grown his creative inclinations, filling every colouring book, drawing on every wall, and absolutely plastering the other turtles with stickers. They were a pain to wash off, but Draxum couldn't bring himself to mind it, especially given the elder three always loved their baths. Ironically, it seemed Michealangelo did not, enjoying it only under specific circumstances. Heat, bubble bath, and bath toys had quickly become a necessity. So too did bath crayons, the need to express himself coming through even when bathing. Everything about the ornate box turtle was bright and colourful.

Draxum... loved them. Dearly. Every facet of their personalities and growth. Every unique trait and behavior.

It was terrifying. He couldn't afford to love them. He couldn't afford to see any more goodness in the humanity they showed. He couldn't afford to change his goals right now.

So he continued disregarding the feeling, trying to reason that everything he did for them was to nurture their instincts as warriors, as science experiments, as specimen.

But a pained scream one day, different from any of the ones he heard when they were frightened as infants, when one of them tripped and fell, when a spat led to hitting, sent his heart into his throat and had him racing through doorways with more urgency than he had felt for anything before.

He had demanded an explanation, panic translating to perceived anger, and three of his boys looked up with teary eyes. Three, but Donatello remained curled up on the ground, wailing his little heart out without ever looking up, and it was one of the most heart wrenching, painful sounds Draxum'd ever heard.

Raphael sat not far from the smaller boy, looking over his shoulder seemingly at nothing, at Donatello, then up at Draxum and back again. Both Leonardo and Michaelangelo burst into frantic, panicked explanations, none of their words coherent enough to understand through their tears.

When Raphael stood, exposing red-tipped spikes on his shell and pointing frantically to Donatello's, it didn't take long to figure out well enough what had happened.

It became quickly a very long day. All four turtles were distraught, and though Draxum had more than enough first aid knowledge to address the situation, bile had threatened to rise the very moment he pulled out the suture kit.

The cuts were deep, and jagged. And poor Donatello cried the entire time, even after a numbing agent had been applied.

Draxum had never thought that in depth about Donatello's soft shell. Not like that. He chose a softshell for the experiment because it would provide greater flexibility, greater agility. It gave an advantage that the hard-shelled turtles did not have.

Now, here... The soft carapace, spongy and leathery and bloody...

It was an accident. Of course it was, Draxum never doubted that. He had to assure that none of his boys were in trouble, no one was in trouble, no one had done anything wrong.

But for the first time he had to be honest with himself. For the first time he couldn't deny how much he cared about the turtles. His turtles. His boys.

He wouldn't, either. If this was what it was, if this was something that could happen again because he insisted on making them into warriors, into fighters- if this could happen on purpose, if this could happen worse, if this could happen with malice and hatred in mind...

Draxum wasn't unused to physical affection, by now. All four boys adored hugs, although Donatello was usually more reserved about them. Now, Donatello clung like his life depended on it, sniffling and whimpering, having cried so long he had no more tears. Draxum clung back, idly smoothing over the edges of the bandages, holding the frightened, exhausted turtle to his chest, cradling.

He did so until well after Donatello fell asleep. He couldn't bring himself to put him down. He accompanied the others to bed, assuring them once more that things were alright, and then simply stood in the walkway, holding his boy tightly.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't go through with it. They were children, every bit as innocent and deserving as the Yokai he wished to avenge and protect. He could train them, prepare them to protect themselves, but he could never send them into battle, ask them to put their lives on the line, much less demand it.

How could he?

It took months of processing, of agonizing his way through the healing process with Donatello, of watching the other boys proving their humanity, their curiosity, and their innocence time and time and time again. His mind was constantly at war with itself, his heart constantly in turmoil and distress, worsened by the turtles' confusion at his sudden change in behavior.

What was even worse was that they would.

They would absolutely sacrifice everything they had for his approval, and for what they understood as "right". He could see them, easily, being willing to submit their very lives to a greater cause if he asked it.

But was he "right"? Even if this experiment had gone exactly as planned, was he right for ever considering putting these turtles into the station of a warrior? Even if they had remained turtles in mind, if they never expressed complex emotion, if they could not speak, if they did not have distinct and colourful personalities, would it have been right?

Was what he saw in them now what they would have been at heart, regardless of circumstance?

Or was it the humanity, that he stole from Lou Jitsu?

Perhaps... perhaps it was time to learn. To consider the root of his motivations.

He couldn't do this to them.

How could he?

[sukibenders]

"Rhaenyra isn't the stepmother, she's the mother who stepped up!"

The HOTD writers themselves are hardly doing anything to support that narrative, so I take this rhetoric with a grain of salt. While I think, in some way, Rhaenyra does care for Baela and Rhaena....if I had to point out a motherly figure for them that could pose as someone stepping in Laena's place, Rhaenyra would not be it.

[hauntdoesthings]

for anyone who likes mascot horror, i honestly cannot recommend Indigo Park enough! it just released chapter 1 today and i can't believe i never heard of it before! it has a ton of talented content creators i love working on it and it's just amazing! you can tell how much thought was put into it and it paid off splendidly. the ambience was on point, it genuinely felt unsettling and unsafe from an early point, and i loved the setting and can't wait to see where they take it.

and if that's not enough, just look at your companion:

his name is Rambley and i would kill for him

[bumblingbabooshka]

TOS x VOY crossover but just so Harry and Tuvok can be a little condescending to Kirk and Spock about playing kal-toh not chess...they're a liiiittle bit more advanced than that. But chess is fine, really.

[gabrielspenisbox]

I see so many people being like "How come Gabriel and Beelzebub figured it out only after three outings together! That makes no sense!" As if the three meetings we saw were the ONLY meetings they EVER had between season 1 and when Gabriel lost his memories??? Those were the most important meetings but there's nothing telling us those were the only times they met up??? If anything it's implied they had quite a few conversations over Armageddon before they both agreed they should call it off.

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

I've been thinking about names re: durges (and especially Corentin)

I haven't really liked the whole "this character's name is The Dark Urge" because it's honestly...silly to me? A bit? But I saw someone else discussing their durge's backstory today and it got me thinking about the function of names a bit more.

Naming someone "The Dark Urge" is super dehumanizing. And, like, that's the point, of course. But Corentin, even at their most compliant, was always trying to eek out some semblance of individuality or control or rebellion. They were kidnapped brought to the Bhaalists at 15, after all. Even with the cult's (and Bhaal's) efforts, it's difficult to completely rewire someone who's nearly a grown adult, especially one who's fighting it kicking and screaming most of the time.

So while they lose their memories of their family due to the constant trauma, they do manage to hold on to some things. Their refusal to eat bog body stays the entire time, as does their insistence on maintaining a hair care routine (which is when they start braiding Orin's hair, too). But after they break, other aspects of cleanliness they'd managed to hold onto until that point fall to the wayside, and they stop resisting when Savorak, and Fel, and the Bhaalists call them "The Dark Urge" instead of their name. Orin still calls them Corentin for a little bit, but she stops eventually too as she gets more and more restless and insistent on gaining power.

And then they meet Gortash who, despite also being a horrible person, isn't as bad as the people Corentin had been forced to lead. At this point they know what the likely ending of the Absolutist plot is going to be (though they're still in the early stages of the plan) but being able to work so closely with someone who's sincere and, more importantly, isn't going to stab them the moment they turn their back to him, is like breathing in fresh air for the first time in a decade or more (both figuratively and literally). And they dare to hope that there's an actual, true way out of the hell they'd been living in.

So when Gortash eventually asks if The Dark Urge is really their name, they tell him no.

[twst-mer]

najma viper sketch

[tea-time-terrier]

I just think she's neat!!!

One of my unofficial goals with a dog was to get some nice position changes at a distance. As with anything, I have not broken it down and my criteria is loose (there's still lots of little tippy tappy paw movements <3) but I am really happy with have far we've gotten so far!

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[snzluv3r]

Is it hard dating that isn’t chronically ill? I am another chronically ill person and I’m scared to date someone that isn’t chronically ill because they won’t understand my pain and make me feel bad about it (I’ve had a lot of trauma with it in the past). Just wondering if it’s possible to do and how you and your partner navigate it?

honestly, yes it’s so hard, but only in the sense that i constantly feel like im holding her back or disappointing her. it’s so hard being sick all the time and not knowing when or if im going to be well enough to take her on an actual date or all the other things that my illnesses get in the way of, but she’s the first person i’ve ever known to never ever validate that guilt by making me feel bad for things out of my control.

she always lets me know i don’t have to apologize for bailing last minute or spending our only weekend together sick and in bed asleep for half the time because she knows it’s not something i’ve chosen. i’m so used to people making me feel like im just being lazy and choosing to not participate in things and am purposefully letting people down, especially in romantic relationships with non-chronically ill people, so i totally get the fear and it’s so valid. if you ever wanna talk more in depth my dms are always always open, i hope this made sense

[cluescorner]

Arlecchino's whole deal is unbelievable

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder what's causing my weird powers? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta become King and then kill my "Mother".

*Kills Clervie and "Mother"*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I was able to defeat a Fatui Harbinger when I'm like 17 or so? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta be in jail and become a Harbinger.

*Is in jail for a while and becomes a Harbinger*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I am-

Pierro: Hey what's up hello, anyways you're descended from the Crimson Moon Dynasty of Khaenri'ah. I'm sure that this is a lot for you to take in so-

Arlecchino: Ok.

Pierro: ...You're just cool with that?

Arlecchino: IDK maybe? I can't really worry about that at the moment, I'm a father now. This orphanage full of children I love (who also are child soldiers and are not allowed to leave or else I'll execute them except maybe now I'm just gonna wipe their memories IDK I'm morally complex) isn't gonna run itself.

*Runs the orphanage/spy recruitment initiative*

Me, the fucking player: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE KHAENRI'AN? WHY WASN'T THIS BROUGHT UP IN YOUR FUCKING QUEST?? OR ANYTHING ELSE????

Arlecchino, talking to me through my phone: I honestly don't know why you care, I'm too busy to give a shit. Anyways, I'm gonna go fight fate itself I guess. I'm sure that I don't share any thematic parallels with any other Khaenri'an characters (particularly as it relates to acting and family angst) and that I haven't made the idea of 'curses' on Khaenri'ans and what they entail even more complicated than they already were. See ya.

[dixidin]

The devil works fast but neurodivergent Ticci Toby stans work faster (I finished this in 2 days)

If you repost this on another website, please give credit. Do not put my art in any ai or repost it as your own work. You are free to use this as a pfp as long as you credit. Any like or rebblog is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! -dixidin

[fromperdition4]

Kinn’s Startle Response

Okay, so we all know that waking Kinn up from a deep sleep is a bad idea, right? Porsche shows us this very clearly in episodes 5 and 6, where he suddenly had/would have had a gun pointed right in his face:

But, this isn’t the only times we see Kinn startled awake - first, later in episode 6, he’s woken by Porsche in the early morning:

And this is probably the most relaxed we’d seen Kinn, up to this point in the show - he isn’t scared, he doesn’t go into murder mode, he just looks over at Porsche with new affection.

I think this moment makes it clear that Kinn’s previous startle response is tied directly to his levels of anxiety/stress. He’d just spent a day away from being a mafia boss - learning to fish, joking around, bathing with Porsche - and he’d also just made his first apology to Porsche. He’s finally unburdened, so his subconscious is no longer on high alert.

And this extends to episode 11, when Tay and Time sneak in to surprise Kinn and Porsche on a sleepy morning in bed:

Kinn (and Porsche)’s first response is to open his eyes to look at what’s disturbing them, then after he realizes it’s just his asshole friends he kicks at them. It’s no more violent a response than any other guy with his friends, and that’s because his mind is settled - he’s relaxing in bed with his love, with his family’s approval and no more Tawan/mole to deal with. Life is good!

Besides being adorably awkward (poor Porsche 😂), I think this scene also gives us some extra insight into Kinn’s startle response - it seems like it was a recent development for him, maybe even after he took over for his dad (when I imagine the death threats ramped up). That’s because of Tay and Time, who we know have been Kinn’s friends for a while (since at least his relationship with Tawan) and are close enough to him that they’re let into his suite without being announced:

If Kinn’s startle response had always been to be instantly ready to murder someone, his best friends would have surely learned to avoid doing it a long time ago. Instead, I think we’re seeing that Porsche has brought Kinn back to his actual default state - a peaceful mind, and arms ready to snuggle

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[good-beanswrites]

Hi Beans, I’m finally here. Diluting the sad with fun and very OOC.

I don’t really have a lot of ideas about what to write, but I remembered that I shared my idea of Es with the chivalrous Argenti's personality. So. AU in a vacuum (maybe an actors AU, maybe not), where Es thought that it would be funny to surprise the prisoners with the behavior of a knight(maybe Jackalope came up with that idea, maybe just strange sense of humor). What about the prisoners' reactions? (gallantry and compliments to plants attached) I think Mahiru would have joined the drive even if she didn’t really understand what happened. Fuuta would probably say "ugh, cringe" and that would make him a great target for the rest of the day.

YESS ahahaha, this is such a fun idea! I wrote a little scene with a few characters, but honestly it's hysterical picturing any of them trying to figure out how to react to this new and sparkling Es... I went for a version where not even Jackalope was prepared, but I can certainly see him suggesting something crazy like that to shake things up omg. Thank you so much for the request! The original meme was made by Mug, and I couldn't help but do a doodle myself ✨🌹

Amane was the first to witness it. She fled as soon as possible, finding sanctuary in the common room. The others were surprised as she stumbled in, face pale and eyes wide. Very little could frighten the girl; it was not a good sign.

Yuno moved to comfort her. “What’s wrong?” 

Her eyes went distant with the harrowing memory. “It’s Es,” was all she said. 

“Did they do something cruel?”

“No. Worse.” Amane shivered. “They were… nice.”

“They were what?”

Amane opened her mouth, but paused at the sound of heels clicking down the hallway. 

She stiffened. “If you need me you can find me in my cell.” She disappeared as quickly as she came. The others, who had been listening in on the odd conversation, gaped after her. They tried to piece together what had been so unsettling. Still, Es’ boots approached. 

All eyes landed on the doorway. 

And Es appeared. They looked very normal. Jackalope hopped up behind them. All shoulders sagged in relief. Es surveyed the room, slightly surprised to find everyone staring. 

Then, they smiled. 

It was a genuine, bright smile. The blue-gray of their eyes sparkled with a new light. Their lips parted to release a lighthearted laugh, unlike anything the prisoners had heard from them before.

They glided through the room, heels clicking lightly behind them until they came to Muu. The others stood frozen in place.

Es swept their cape aside with a grand flourish of their arm. They held both her hand and her gaze with warmth.

“Why, hello, Muu! You’re looking as positively lovely as always. Has this fine morning treated you well?”

“Um…” She looked to everyone, her face pleading for a little guidance. They were too busy looking eagerly to her in astonishment. “Uh… yes?”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” They reached behind themself. The room let out a soft gasp as they produced a pale pink flower from underneath their cape.

“For you, my dear.”

They didn’t wait for her to finish stuttering a confused ‘thank you’ before they turned to whoever was standing closest. Mahiru’s own face lit up as Es turned their glimmering gaze her way. Fuuta scoffed, muttering something about this being the lamest, cringiest thing he’d witnessed. Es pretended not to hear.

“Shiina Mahiru… a smile like yours is rare to find in a place like this. I thank you for it.” They pinched their chin and angled their head, thinking. “The meaning of your name has to do with light, correct?” 

She nodded, unable to keep the giddiness from her face. The others watched as Es moved their glove behind once more. Surely there was no room for any more flowers hidden there…

Surely they were all mistaken – Es flicked their wrist to present a small gathering of yellow blooms.

“Something radiant for someone as bright as you.”

She fell over herself with gratitude and giggles. She tried to tuck it into her hair, and Mikoto stepped over to help her. The pair raised their eyebrows at each other in disbelief. 

This time, Es retrieved their gift before turning to their next victim. A classic red rose. They caught a prisoner’s gaze. 

“Oh, no. Nope. No way.” Fuuta held up his hands, as if it could ward them off. “I don’t want your stupid-ass flowers.” 

“Now, now, I see you’re playing hard to get, as usual.” They brushed their thumb along the thorny stem. “You know, the rose has a very similar approach.”

Fuuta’s face now matched the flower’s color. “Wha–” He stumbled backward, then took off running to the door. “I don’t know what weird mind games you’re trying to pull, but I’m staying out of it!” 

Es only clicked their tongue gently when he disappeared. “Always making things difficult, that one. All part of his charm, I suppose.” 

They followed to the entrance. Turning briefly, they flashed their smile once more.“It was wonderful to see you all! I will await our next meeting eagerly.” 

With a fluttery wave, they vanished. 

Everyone’s attention shot to Jackalope, who had paused in the doorway. No one could understand his voice, but his little rabbit face seemed to say, Hey, don't look at me. I have no fucking idea.