#dells writes

[dells-bells]

🚨 WHAT’S THIS? 🚨

A NEW FIC FROM DELLS?

ON SPANKTEMBER 1st OF ALL DAYS?

Hope you enjoy 💕

[redstringraven]

Fika

characters: don, klunk, leo, mikey and raph rating: g content warnings: n/a word count: 4288 relevant tags: sick fic, sick leo, post-episode: good genes

(n.) a moment to slow down and appreciate the good things in life a leo sick-fic, requested by @sakuradiva for @tmnt4p !

[ read on ao3 ]

You may as well have called the first sneeze an alarm bell. The instant it echoed through the reservoir station, each and every one of them in range perked up, heads swiveling like a bunch of prairie dogs.

Raph seeks out Don first. He scans the open first-level of the reservoir station until he catches Don’s eye--a second after Mikey does. Don glances between them, his expression at first wide. Then his lips curl downward, and he huffs. “—that wasn’t me.”

There's no attempt to hide the irritation in his tone (and Raph couldn’t blame him); a week or two of one helicopter sibling is annoying enough. Don had three. Plus Master Splinter. Plus April and Casey. Plus Leatherhead. Seven people in a semi-constant state of worry, hovering, asking questions, growing tense with anything that could be a small sign of 'relapse'. It had to get smothering at some point. And even Don had a limit to his so-called infinite patience.

“—Oh!” Mikey says. He pauses, his eyes darting from Don, to Raph, and back again--clearly scrambling to deflect from what Don had drawn attention to. “—Well. It wasn’t ME. My sneezes are a lot more… uuuuh…”

“Needy?” Raph offers.

“Yeah!” A beat. Mikey's eyes widen, then he shoots a squint at Raph. “—Hey, wait.”

“Sorry.” Leo moves out of the kitchen, mug in hand, having lowered the heel of his palm from his beak. “I, uh. I think I might’ve stirred up some dust while I was looking for the chamomile.”

Mikey relaxes, likely happy to accept this answer and move on, but Raph’s brow arcs. “Thought you’n Mikey gave the cabinets a good wipe-down earlier this week.”

“We did,” Leo says. He shrugs. “Guess… some of it must still be in the air. I dunno.”

...lying, Raph thinks, though he’s careful to keep the suspicion from reaching his eyes. He shifts his attention to Mikey just in time to catch the tell-tale signs of worry: a sudden stillness, like a deer in headlights, and the slightest strain around the eyes. It’s gone as soon as it arrives, and Mikey replaces any sign of it with an impish grin.

“Looks like someone was slacking on cleaning duty,” he jabs, knuckles propped on his hips. He tilts his weight forward and tuts his tongue. “For shame, Bronardo.”

Leo sends Mikey a passive smirk. He huffs and starts up the steps toward his room. His free hand finds the stair-rail and stays there. Raph locks onto it. He can't help but notice Leo's not resting his palm on the metal; he's holding it.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes with an idea of what we need to knock out today,” Leo says. There's a slight wilt in his posture—and now that Raph thinks about it, he realizes Leo's feet drag just enough to make his usual silent steps borderline audible. Raph shifts his weight and fixes his jaw, forcing himself to hold his tongue. Leo looks back over his shoulder after reaching the threshold of his room and continues, “Donnie, I’d appreciate it if you sat it out another day.”

Don sighs, but he waves a hand lazily over his head. “Heard loud and clear, boss.”

Leo’s door shuts, and silence settles back over the station. Raph remains by the weapons rack, and Don keeps his attention on the blueprints he has spread across the table he'd claimed as his temporary workbench. Only Mikey moves, plucking at one of his wrist bands, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the subtle rise in tension.

“...--you think I can squeeze in just enough Resident Evil 4 that I can get far away from a save point, and he’ll have to wait until I reach the next one to turn off the game?” Mikey asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer; instead, he flashes Raph a wide grin and bolts for the couch with a cackle. The televisions flash and hum to life, and Raph lets out a blend of a sigh and a growl. His eyes shift to Don.

Don’s already looking at him. Even with the faint purple stains under his eyes, the mild sag of his skin, there’s a sharpness in his stare. Raph recognizes it. He knows they harbor the same concern.

“Donnie?”

“Yeah, Mikey?”

Mikey huffs as he enters Don’s room, scratching at his cheek.

“Have you seen Klunk? He was snoozing on me like usual this morning, but… I kinda didn’t want to get up and give him his breakfast just yet." A terrible betrayal, if he were being honest. But he'd really just wanted five more minutes (which turned to ten, to fifteen, to twenty), and Klunk grew bored of swatting his face. Totally lost track of time after that. Mikey frowns, sending another short glance over his shoulder to eye the station. "He must’ve gotten cranky and left, but he wasn’t in the kitchen.”

“No,” Don says. He rotates a bit more in his chair to face Mikey and sets his pen aside. His jaw tightens, shivers as he points toward the door (an attempt to redirect attention as he stifles a yawn). “But--uh. I know he’s really fond of that one spot by the water?”

Mikey shakes his head. “Checked. Nada.”

“Oh…” Don’s brow furrows. “Well… --have you asked Leo? He might’ve seen where Klunk ran off to; he's been up a while.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Donnie!”

Don grunts a sound in place of a “you’re welcome”, and Mikey jogs back into the heart of their new lair.

There is, of course, a risk he ran entering Leo’s room: he’d narrowly managed to wiggle his way out of work yesterday, and he doubted he’d get similar results today. Leo may not be… grumpy anymore, but he was still Leo. A bit of a stickler—a: wet blanket, one might venture. You could only keep up a single ruse with him for so long.

Leo's door is open when he reaches it (a welcome sight, considering how often it’d been closed in the months before), and Mikey allows himself to cross inside. The space is rather bare--with little left to salvage from the second lair and a mutant outbreak to clean up, they found themselves back at square one in terms of decor. But Leo still found a way to make the few things he had feel clean and in order. Mikey could feel almost a rhythm in the way he'd stacked books on the floor, where he placed candles, and where Leo chose to sit when he meditated. He’s also quick to spot the ball of orange fur settled into Leo’s lap.

“Hey, Leo!” Mikey chirps, careful to keep his voice just low enough so as not to startle either of them. He waits a second for one of Leo’s eyes to open before continuing, “mind if I steal Klunk off ya?”

Leo smiles. But it’s… a tired? smile? Mikey can’t remember the last time Leo looked tired in the morning (y’know; like a normal person).

“I’m surprised you didn’t come get him sooner,” Leo mutters. He closes his eye again. “Sure.”

“Thanks!”

Mikey takes a wide step into the room and crouches. He digs around in his belt, locating one of Klunk's favorite snack-tubes.

“Oh Kah-looooonkkkk,” he says, putting on his best sing-song-I-totally-got-treats-for-you-love-me-please voice, “you want some tube~?”

Klunk lifts and tilts his head. Rather than get to his feet and trot to Mikey’s side, he shifts his weight, tucking his legs securely under his body. Mikey blinks.

That's weird. Klunk never turns down an offer for tube.

Even Klunk seems to acknowledge this; his tail twitches irritably, and his ears flatten out. It's like he wants to get up but…

“...hey, Leo?” Mikey props his elbows on his knees, frowning. “Has Klunk been with ya like this all morning?”

Leo’s shoulders lift in a half-shrug. “Guess so.”

“Huh.” Mikey pouts. Klunk hated a late breakfast. There hadn’t been scraps in his bowl, so no one had fed him yet. Why isn't he screaming for food? ...he's definitely still sending me dirty looks.

Mikey drums his hands on his inner knees. He opens his mouth—another question forming on his tongue—but snaps it closed when Leo suddenly sniffs. It's a wet, strained sound, and his posture rolls forward a little. Almost like he’d just gotten dizzy, or the breath had taken more effort than it should've. Come to think of it, it... did look like Leo was breathing through his mouth more than his nose. His lips were parted slightly. Mikey squints—glances from Klunk to Leo—and straightens up. “...your, uh... nose still bugging ya, bro?”

“A little.”

“...iiiis that all that’s bugging ya?”

Leo frowns, but he keeps his eyes closed. His brow wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Mikey says, “iiiit’s just… y’look kind of tired? And… Klunk super doesn’t wanna leave your lap. Which is weird! Because he hasn't had breakfast! And I offered him a tube! He ALWAYS wants tube.”

Leo opens his eyes and frowns as he looks at Mikey. Mikey shifts his weight and wrings his wrists in his lap. Leo didn’t have that needling look in his eyes like he had a few months ago, but… guess he’d started expecting a half-hearted glare and a growl.

Leo must have realized this, too. He winces, and his features weaken.

“Mikey, I’m okay,” he says. Mikey's lips twitch into a weak smile, but it must not have looked convincing. Leo sighs, "really, I’m just… Maybe I've just got a cold.”

“—a cold?” Mikey echoes, all at once alert. His throat tightens. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows it's irrational, but he doesn't care. He searches Leo’s limbs—any visible section of skin. But nothing looks open, or irritated or… mutated. They'd gotten separated in Bishop's lab for a while after Don got loose. Leo hadn't said anything about encountering other feral mutants, but...

Mikey rolls his lips together, eyes snapping up to meet Leo’s. “You… didn’t get, y’know. Stung. Or anything and didn’t tell us, did you?”

Leo’s expression drops. “What? --no, Mikey. Why would you—”

“—I should get Donnie,” Mikey interrupts, springing to his feet. “Just in case!”

“Mikey, I didn’t—”

“—I’ll be right back!" He jabs a finger at Leo and shakes his head. "Don’t even think about going anywhere! Klunk's loafing on you for your own protection!! DON'T DISRESPECT HIM!”

And he bolts before Leo has the chance to respond.

Don hadn't been the only one tailing Mikey back to Leo's room. Raph followed close at their heels, but he took to leaning on the corner wall rather than hover at Leo's side. Something Leo, admittedly, found himself grateful for.

Quick to busy himself as always, Don took to checking Leo for scratches, bites, stings--any possibility Mikey listed off, thought about or began to fuss over. Klunk, his duty now fulfilled, had grown tired of Don's close proximity, and he swiftly sprang from Leo's lap, trotting to headbutt and rub against Mikey's heels instead. He still circles them now, a soft, steady purr vibrating in his chest. Leo wonders if all cats are like this: aware and attentive of who needs their comfort, and so eager to provide. Or if it's something unique to Klunk... like the little animal knew Mikey had given him a better life, here, and he was in their debt. 

He almost snorts at himself. Probably silly to think cats thought in transactional ways... and something he still needs to work on, himself.

“You’re SURE he's not sick?” Mikey asks suddenly. He fidgets with his mask-tails, unable to stop himself from glancing in Don’s direction. “Like..." he winces, but hints anyway, "sick-sick?”

Don huffs, keeps his eyes down.

Leo frowns, and he shakes his head. “I didn't get stung or bit by anything, Mikey. I promise."

Unless we’re counting that mutant the dragons had set loose. There's a brief second where the thought sends a wave of alarm through his chest, but it's quick to settle. That happened months before the mutagen outbreak in the city. Surely, if it was a similar kind of illness, it would have made itself known by now. He'd been bitten long before Don had been stung, and Don's symptoms began surfacing in the following weeks. His brothers must be thinking something similar; Mikey continues to send looks in Don's direction, and Raph remains oddly quiet. The silence starts to feel heavy, and Leo winces. “Sorry, Donnie.”

“—don’t,” Don hastens, frowning at him. “Really.”

"So," Mikey starts, "he's not sick-sick? He's just... siiiiick-sick?"

Don sends him a dull stare. "You can just say 'infected', Mikey."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. But, no. I don't think he is." Don glances at Leo and shrugs. "There aren't any 'entry points', like he said. And I doubt he ate anything at Bishop's."

Leo grunts and wrinkles his nose. Mikey shifts his weight, unsatisfied. "What... --what about that thing we stole from Karai? --he's the one who touched it first. Do you think it cursed him?"

"Mikey--"

"--don't act like it's not possible, Don!" Mikey interrupts, clenching his fists at his sides. "We've time traveled! Space traveled! There's a whole city under our feet right now! --And--what about that... that big, red alien-monster thing that almost got Angel's bro?! --That old guy--he was totally cursed and stuff!! What if--"

“--it ain’t that deep,” Raph grumbles, his voice low but sharp enough to cut Mikey off. He pushes off the wall, propping his hands on his hips. “I bet it’s ‘cuz this bozo got back from Japan and hit the ground runnin’. Ain't stopped since.”

Leo squints, and Raph holds up a hand, 'counting' off his fingers as he continues, “I doubt ya slept on the boat trip over. Y’came lookin’ for each of us—got us all back in one place. Fought Karai. Got us back on our feet, the station up 'n runnin'. The first few mutants start showin’ their ugly heads. We get sent back to the jurassic period—”

“—cretaceous,” Don mutters, and Raph scoffs.

“Whatever! --Look, my POINT is, y’ain’t stopped movin’ once. You probably went and wore yourself out! Even more than usual!”

“You were kinda training like crazy for a while,” Mikey adds, rubbing his neck. “Like. A lot a lot. All the time. I guess maybe you chilled while you were in Japan, but... also not really.”

“Raph… has a point, Leo,” Don says. He looks to Leo and shrugs. “April’s talked about this sort of thing before. Like, when she was in college? She said during the holiday breaks, she’d come home and not have anything to worry about, and it was like her whole body released a ton of tension all at once. She’d have a horrible stomach ache for that first day home. Maybe… this is your version of that.”

“This is the quietest it’s been since…” Raph pauses, growls, and shakes his head. “It’s the quietest it’s been in a good, long while.”

Leo frowns. He can't think of any kind of argument. Or, at least, all the arguments that were coming to mind wouldn’t help with anything. Either Raph would get irritable, or Mikey would get antsy and more nervous than he already was. And Don... while Leatherhead had been confident there wouldn't be a chance of relapse, they'd decided not to risk anything. Guess it'd be pretty hypocritical of him to go on insisting he was fine, when they'd all decided he wasn't.

What was it the Ancient One said about surrender? Leo almost couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle to himself. “Alright. I guess I could take a few days to do nothing. Join Don in being a couch potato.”

“Sounds ideal to me,” Mikey says.

Leo’s smirk widens. “I bet it does.”

“If anyone deserves a ‘nothin’ day ‘round here, it’s you two workaholics,” Raph says, pointing a finger interchangeably between Don and Leo.

“And Klunk will make sure you both stay sitting down!” Mikey scoops Klunk off the floor. The cat mews in protest, wiggling for a moment before tucking against Mikey's chest. “He’ll be making the best biscuits this side of Brooklyn. Aren't you lucky?”

 Raph snorts, and he thumps a fist against Mikey's shoulder. “Mikey and I will finish what needs t’be done around the lair for the day. Take a load off. Enjoy free biscuits from the stupid cat, and be ready for movies and a hot meal t'night.”

Leo could hear Mikey and Raph in the kitchen, but he couldn’t tell if they were bickering or just talking. Guess those were one and the same when it came to those two.

He and Don had taken to the couch, as promised. Don tinkers with his shell-cell while Klunk watches from his lap, and Leo, settled under a thick blanket, adjusts the book in his hand.

It'd been surprisingly difficult to pick which of his few books he'd wanted to start, and there was something bittersweet in the reminder that he'd have to rebuild his library a second time. He'd selected one of the fiction novels--an old fantasy, filled with mists, magic, and a winding world. He'd already read it a time or three, but the familiar pages were comforting and easy to get lost in. A small voice in the back of his mind still grumbled and tutted that there was work to do, things to check, responsibilities and tasks he'd been setting aside for higher priority items. But he ignores it (for now).

Klunk stands and arches his back. His mouth splits into a large yawn, and he gives his tail a lazy little flick before carefully padding out of Don's lap. Leo smiles and chuckles as the cat moves onto his legs instead, already purring loud enough to drown out whatever conversation fills the kitchen.

Don smirks. “Looks like it’s your turn to get cat-sat, Leo.”

“Yeah.” Leo opens a hand so Klunk can headbutt it, and he ruffles his head with the heel of his palm. “Guess it is.”

Don chuckles. He sits back against the couch again and sighs, letting his hands and the shell-cell drop into his lap. Leo slants his eyes toward him. His smile sinks a little as he watches Don tug one of the throw blankets higher over his chest. “...feeling alright, Donnie?”

“Yeah,” Don huffs, “my energy just gets totally sapped after a certain hour. It’s really annoying.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Mn. ...what about you?”

Leo’s brow furrows. “I… think so? I mostly just feel… heavy.”

“Yeah.”

“But not… --not the same kind of heavy I felt before, just…”

“I know,” Don murmurs. There’s something… different in his tone, now. Leo can’t quite put a word to it. Don continues, “I think Raph hit it right on the money. You get back from Japan and… we get you back… but you haven’t really let yourself have much time to breathe, have you?”

“I could say the same to you,” Leo says, “you’ve been working to get the reservoir station up, functional and livable since we got here. Even while you were getting 'sick'.”

“Maybe. But… I hadn’t just come back from a huge trip with a completely different timezone—a-and, I hadn’t been…" He pauses, cautious. "...I dunno. ...struggling...? At least not like you."

Leo frowns. “Donnie. Whether you’re drowning in an ocean or drowning in a puddle… it’s still drowning.”

Don blinks, glancing at him. There's a moment where Leo can't quite read his eyes, but he remains quiet. Then, Don smirks, and he lets out a weak chuckle.

“I guess you’d know about that better than anyone,” he says, “considering you’re the one who dove in after me when my toy car almost got me waxed.”

“It’d be a pretty embarrassing way to go out," Leo says. "Especially for a turtle.”

“You’d also know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you? Embarrassing ways to go out.” Don’s eyes glint, and his smirk sharpens. “Big Foot?”

Leo lets out a laugh, ducking and shaking his head in attempt to mask any show of sheepishness. “—Jeez! A guy steps on a landmine one time.”

“It wasn’t just a landmine. It was a landmine in clear water.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

Don laughs. There’s a small pause as his smile softens, and his shoulders sink into a more relaxed position. “...it’s good to have you back, Leo.”

“Hey.” Leo shifts his weight enough to gently jab his elbow into Don’s upper arm. “Right back at you, bro.”

“Alright, sickos.” Raph rounds the couch, his arms held out flat on either side of him. Two large plates balance on either inner-elbow, and in each hand he has a second plate and bowl of steaming soup. Its warm, soothing smell somehow seeps through all the congestion in Leo's nose and throat, and he sighs, letting it fill his ribs. He sits forward and extends his hands, offering to take one of the sets from Raph's person. Raph shoots him a knowing smirk, and he leans just enough to let Leo lift a plate from his arm. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup: comin’ in hot.”

“Oh, sweet,” Don says.

“Think you mean savory, dude!” Mikey chirps as he vaults the couch (and their heads). Leo passes Don the first bowl and plate, and he looks Mikey’s way as his brother drops to his knees to slide the remaining distance to the television set. He spots a DVD case in one of Mikey’s hands and realizes he recognizes it.

“—wait,” he starts, sitting up, “is that what I think it is?”

Mikey turns, flashing him a toothy grin. “Iiiiiiif you mean Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“Where’d you get that?!” Leo asks, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“April,” Raph answers. He chuckles and hands Leo the other plate and bowl, “figured it was time t’start usin’ her access to things to our advantage.”

Don arches a brow. “Like we weren’t doing that already?”

“I mean, sure,” Raph says, “but Kiki’s a classic! Gotta look a bit harder t’get your hands on one’a those; ‘specially a copy that ain’t totally trashed.”

“And because she’s totally awesome, she SPLURGED!!” Mikey says, jamming a finger against the DVD player's eject button. “This one’s got behind the scenes—interviews--storyboards even!!!”

“He’s real excited about the storyboards,” Raph mutters, though he fails to mask the fondness coloring his tone. He ambles back toward the kitchen, likely to retrieve food for himself and Mikey.

Leo settles the plate and bowl into the blankets on his lap. Klunk rises from where he'd curled between Don and Leo, and he pads onto one of Leo's knees in attempt to sniff the tomato soup. Leo gently nudges him away. “No, Klunk.”

“Let’s put you on the ground until food’s eaten, little guy,” Don says. He scoops a hand under Klunk’s stomach and lifts him off the couch. Klunk protests with a soft, but long, meow. He allows himself to be placed on the floor, but the look he sends Don—paired with a flick of his tail—is more than enough warning that he’ll be back before food’s finished.

Raph returns with a second round of plates and bowls, and Mikey finishes setting up the DVD. He sprints to the light switch as Raph eases their meals onto the coffee table. The lights shut off, and they’re left in the cool wash of the screen’s glow.

What comes next is a feeling Leo can’t quite put into words. Mikey slides into the open seat on his right, and Raph settles into the nook at Don’s left. The room fills with a familiar score—A Town with an Ocean View, if he remembers the track name correctly--and Don thanks Raph for dinner as the two pass down napkins. Mikey shifts his weight, taking care to move and tuck the blanket so it's evenly distributed between himself and Leo. Then, he curls up, bowl in lap, and lets himself lean into Leo's side. He takes a napkin when Leo offers it to him, and Don and Raph begin banter over who gets the remote for the movie's run time.

Leo has trouble putting a name to this feeling... and even more trouble recalling the last time it fell over him, warm and soft, like an old blanket fresh from the drier.

A sense of peace. Familiarity. Safety and home. He wants to wrap himself in it and stay. Let everything else sink away.

"Remember the first time we watched this?" Don asks. He fixes the plate on his lap and settles a napkin over one of the grilled cheese pieces.

"Feels like years ago," Mikey says.

Raph lets out a soft snort. "'Cause it was years ago."

"Think we were eight," Leo mutters. "It was the first and only time Mikey ever wanted to be near a broom."

"You're just mad 'cuz I won the race," Mikey sniggers. He wiggles enough to poke his elbow into Leo's bridge. "Totally left you and Raphie in the dust. Which you had to sweep up."

"Oh, brother," Don sighs, and Raph rolls his eyes, letting out a low growl.

"Leo? Smack him. I don't wanna spill my soup."

Leo smirks. He shifts his weight, gently jabbing one elbow into Mikey's arm. Mikey whine-groans at him, but the end of it is colored with a chuckle.

Raph (apparently having won whatever game he and Don were engaged in) lifts the remote and hits the center button. The town's melody quiets, and the room goes dark as the title menu fades to black.

[pizzaboat]

Eda Clawthorne and BPD

Eda is a character I never really associated with something like BPD(Borderline Personality Disorder) until I’d done more research on the disorder myself. Initially, I’d had a one size fits all idea in my mind for what a manifestation of BPD could look like.

But after finishing the Owl House in its entirety, and dispelling some of my ignorance around the topic I’ve come to the headcanon that Eda has BPD.

So to start, what I understand about BPD(Borderline Personality Disorder) is that it’s a personality disorder belonging to the cluster B section in the DSM-5.

It’s generally described that people living with it, might engage in risky/self harming behaviour, have an intense fear of abandonment, struggle with addiction, and have unstable/turbulent relationships with others. People with BPD also struggle with an intense feeling of internalised shame and numbness.

BPD usually manifests after some sort of prolonged mental abuse/physical abuse/sexual abuse/ psychological abuse or trauma, and that usually happens in childhood.

Well, what does any of that have to do with Eda? How does her character link in any way to what I've described? Let’s go through it;

(I’m not an expert, this is just a headcanon that I use to look at Eda)

Addiction/Substance Abuse

Eda is implied to be an alcoholic in the show. Apple blood, her infamous favourite drink, is often used as a stand-in or a direct reference to the topic of intoxication or turning to the bottle to cope with big feelings.

Proof of apple blood being an alcohol signal can be when Luz mentions in early S2, that Eda was hard to get off the roof after she drank too much apple blood, implying she became irrational and unreasonable after drinking too much.

Another example is when Eda was seen in a tavern in Eda’s Requiem, she canonically has a large and unpaid tab in that tavern, and was drinking apple blood (from a juice box) while lamenting about the current events of her life.

A scene like that is a heavy reference to the trope of getting drunk and venting to your local bartender that can be seen in a lot of movies and tv-shows.

Eda is also potentially implied to have Depression during the show and is typically grumpy/unapproachable before her first drink, early in the morning.

I’ve headcanons before that Eda uses Apple Blood to self medicate her mood after the implications in season 2 that she is drinking more heavily (the joke about the roof, her chasing free appleblood, drinking in the tavern when she’s sad), and after season1, and during all of season 2 her mental health had taken a clear nose dive after traumatic events and perceived abandonments.

I also mentioned that people with BPD struggle with a feeling of emptiness and numbness, and Eda’s low and irritable mood could be interpreted as coming from a place of feeling hollow. (That’s my headcanon).

Addiction is also considered a risky/self harming behaviour, which leads me to my next point.

Risky/Self Harming behaviours

Eda is an impulsive and risk taking person, that usually contributes to a pretty popular ADHD headcanon for her character, but I’d also like to argue that her risk taking behaviour could also be a sign of BPD, as it typically leads her to dangerous or life threatening situations, often on purpose.

A small example of this is when searching for titan blood, she pushes herself in front of a laser beam and urges King to shoot her with it to trigger her harpy powers. In that episode she was struggling to go harpy mode;

And the episode before that, Knock Knock Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door, she was shown depriving herself of sleep and worrying about not being ready for the day of unity. Eda had proved she was anxious to be ready and willing to hurt herself to be so, stemming from an internal feeling of frustration and worthlessness because she didn’t have what she needed to be ready.

In the cave, I think her action to jump in front of the laser, disguising her actions as a childish and silly request of bone-headedness was her hiding her self-destructive instincts and inner frustration in plain sight.

Her risky behaviours are driven by a deep self hatred and that leads me to her most risky action of all…

Fear of Abandonment

When Eda overhears the kids talking about telling her something, she spirals and assumes the worst. She spends that episode devaluing herself, trying to self-soothe with apple blood, and distancing herself from the kids in response to her assumption that they only have the worst news for her.

Luz is leaving and King wants to live with his dad.

She spends the day living out what appears to be a fantasy with Raine, where she is ‘Mama Eda’ to the younger BATTs members and she and Raine are playfully dancing around each other with some not so subtle flirting. It resembles a family life, where her and Raine are married, or atleast happily together, and the BATTs are like her very own kids that need her.

(it’s key to point out that Raine did most of the heavy flirting and was active, while Eda just bathed herself in the situation. Likely because while it was what she wanted, she’d also expressed earlier in the episode that she felt everyone left her in the end and all good things ended).

When this fanasy/substition falls through and the rebellion is busted, her and Raine play a murder-suicide duet attempt together, where Raine then learns that there’s more to the story than Eda is letting on, and that she isn’t just being motivated to do the heroic thing because she has nothing to lose.

Raine clearly realises Eda is trying to die because she has something to lose, and she assumes she is losing it. Dying to Eda is less painful and scary than being abandoned again.

I mentioned that childhood trauma/abuse can cause BPD to develop, and I’d argue that having a curse that caused the people she loved to leave her because she pushed them away, or because it seemed like her curse made her too monstrous to love, is pretty traumatising.

And that fear of abandonment predates even the curse, as it was revealed in the flashback episode where her and Raine met, that Eda had no friends, was ostracised by her teachers/principle and that she was terrified of being separate from Lilith; her only friend. Eda didn't know what an expulsion would mean for their relationship, if Lilith would still be her best friend, or if Lilith progressed onwards without her, would she abandon Eda?

Well, that worry was validated when it was revealed their sister relationship fell apart sometime between their late teens and mid-forties, when Lilith is introduced as Eda’s rival and Eda’s expression is stormy when she first sees Lilith on screen, it’s laos important to note that Lilith attacked first at the convention with her words, and Eda, having some very stormy feelings about her sister, responds to the greeting by cutting Lilith down in front of young fans in a way she knows will rile up her sister.

She basically attacks Lilith’s mask by mentioning that Lilith peed herself at a convention as a kid, and then proceeds to act childish in Lilith’s presence to wind her up and prove to Lilith that she is no better than Eda and that she’s not changed a bit since they were kids where it counts, according to Lilith.

We don’t know what caused Eda and Lilith to feud like this, but it can be assumed that LIlith joining a coven that allows only two days off a year made Eda feel like she was abandoned by her sister in some of the worst years of her life, by the person she once called her best friend.

The breakdown of such an important relationship would be upsetting to anyone, but to Eda, in the situation she was in, that would have to be further traumatising.

To add to the familial issues, Eda has issues with Gwen.

The entirety of keeping up a-fear-ances was about how gwen had failed both her daughters, but for this post, it’s that Gwen treated the curse, something so integral to Eda and her life at this point, something that Eda cannot change or separate herself from, like something her mom needed to cure her of.

To eradicate. So much so that she disregarded Eda’s bodily autonomy and safety at multiple points in just one episode and caused Eda to snap. She scared Eda into running away as a teenager, and she had to apologise to Eda in that episode for making her daughter feel like she didn’t love her. “I love every part of you.” - to paraphrase what Gwen said.

It’s not hard to imagine that feeling like your own mother would rather risk your health and happiness, disregard your wishes and try to remove an unremovable part of your person, would make you feel more unlovable and broken than you already feel.

I’m sure that this contributed to Eda’s fear of abandonment and would help cultivate the already existing internal shame she feels just for existing next to her loved ones and feeling like she’s not good enough to be in their lives because all she does is hurt them.

Yup, this is setting up my next point…

Shame/Low Sense of Self-Worth

Proof that Eda’s self-worth is low and her inner shame is high comes from how she treats her kids and her father. Eda struggles to look at people she feels she’s let down. While some individuals with BPD might do everything to avoid abandonment, Eda tends to abandon people first and devalues herself in the process, convincing herself she doesn’t deserve to fight for them or be in their company.

Her inner shame mostly stems from how she handles her curse, its impact on her life, and her past relationships. With Luz and King, she initially keeps up a protective wall and avoids physical affection. When she believes they are leaving her, she justifies her suicidal thoughts to Raine by denying her role as their "mother," revealing her deep-seated belief that she's unworthy of such a title.

Despite considering them her children, Eda questions her ability to be a suitable mother figure, expressing doubts about her worthiness. It takes reassurance from Raine for Eda to begin to accept that she is needed and, consequently, good enough.

Her relationship with Dell, though mentioned sparingly, has left lasting scars. Eda blames herself for hurting him and struggles to forgive herself, even when her father asks her to move on from the past.

In Knock Knock-Knocking on Hooty’s Door, Eda implies that she is haunted by nightmares of her breakup with Raine, blaming herself entirely for their breakup. This implied consistent rumination suggests that she feels responsible for every abandonment and rejection she has experienced, exacerbating her inner shame.

Raine was likely the last stable influence in Eda’s life, and her breakup further solidified Eda’s belief that she is the cause of her own abandonment. This cycle of self-blame and perceived rejection has left lasting mental scars, reinforcing Eda’s sense of brokenness and perpetuating her feelings of endless abandonment.

By examining Eda’s behaviour and internal struggles, it becomes evident that her shame and low sense of self-worth are deeply ingrained, shaping her relationships and interactions throughout the series.

Splitting

I can’t really talk about a BPD headcanon without mentioning its most famous feature. Splitting, from what I understand, is when a person's mood, sense of self, or perception of others shifts dramatically in the other direction in response to a threat, stressor, or trigger.

It might not just look like, “I like this person.” “Now I hate this person.” It can manifest as more dynamic, extreme black-and-white thinking, where something is either all or nothing:

“She always does this.”

“He never does that.”

“Things always go wrong.”

“This always goes right.”

The black-and-white thinking can be either positive or negative and can even be about a person's own self. And this is where my headcanon goes a bit shaky, because all I really have to go off of is Eda’s initial attitude of “We weirdos stick together,” and then how she switches those ideals up when she’s devaluing herself and her importance within the relationships she has with friends and family.

This is particularly evident with the kids and her extreme and impulsive suicide attempt, where I get this feeling of “I’m not good enough, and I will never be good enough.” off of her.

She also changes her mood with Lilith very quickly during the season 1 finale. A few minutes ago, she was ready to kill her sister and saw her as the most vile person she’d ever met. The next minute, she is letting her sister back into her house and wanting a relationship with her again after she split the curse.

There is this kind of emotional impermanence where she forgives Lilith and goes straight back to wanting to be friends with her at a speed and level that isn’t common at all. No matter what is done to Eda, she seems to bounce back quickly, no matter how badly she’s hurt in the end.

That's all I've really got for that, to be honest. If I find more that explores this idea better, I will probably make a post about it.

Conclusion

I think that turbulent relationships, a massive fear of abandonment, risky and impulsive behaviours and high shame/low self esteem are key parts of Eda’s character and that’s why I headcanon her to have BPD(borderline personality disorder.)

[queerfortress2]

Oh my god, I loved the way you described the support classes in an argument, I feel like it was totally spot-on. Would you be willing to write how the other classes would be in an argument, as well? Or, at least maybe the defence classes?? Thank you and have a wonderful day! 🥰

another engineer (technically) one, im in heaven. also, thank you! (also so very sorry for how short it is, my brain is so very very fried from art fight.) — mod engie

GN!READER X DEFENSE CLASSES ; ARGUMENTS

DEMOMAN

out of all of them? he is the best. he can actually recognize that he is wrong in an argument after the fact and apologise, which is crazy by mercenary means. after all, most of his problems are solved by alcohol and bombs, but he cares about you enough not to blow you up, so be thankful for that.

that being said… he’s also drunk most of the time, so the former may not even apply when you’re arguing. he most likely won’t recognise he’s even arguing— hell! he might not even remember he’s arguing halfway through and begin talking about a completely unrelated topic. it’s kind of difficult to continue from there, considering he’s either too drunk to recognise you, sleeping, or taking another swig out of a comically large bottle.

"Aye..! I know y��er mad aboot th’ match but in—" His glassy eyes looked around, almost not at you, rather your general surroundings, his leg limp slightly. Be tilted to the right as he looked towards the fireplace of the lounging area, stumbling slightly, "—Wh’teva’ ‘s really jus’ ah… hic!—" Almost on cue, the man had practically fallen, stumbling over, falling asleep momentarily. The second his body loses balance, you seem to have been forced by your instinct to catch him. The impact between him and your arms almost knocked you both over, but thankfully he slowly rose back up to his feet and looked you in the eyes. Unfortunately for you, he already forgot about the argument, and began incoherently babbling about how he missed being this close to you. ..Maybe bring it up another time. One of the rare hours when he’s sober.

when he's sober afterwards i imagine its a lot easier to have a conversation with him, after all he's usually willing to admit he was in the wrong, and a lot of the time, its not a big argument. he's just not a man easy to anger. while the support classes are much easier to aggravate. a common theme seems to be the defense class men are just a loooooot more patient. (also a lot more apologetic)

ENGINEER

its genuinely really hard to argue with this man because he is (most of the time) correct. even if it is an argument you thought you knew all about he's INFURIATINGLY on top. why? well, he does his research really. he's not as willing to win silly little debates but when it comes to much more serious decisions being made. or, say, doing something utterly STUPID at work that could've gotten you killed. yeah, the respawn exists, but darn it that don' mean you can play with it!

so when you, say, fuck around with dangerous technology, he will 100% start arguing. not because he hates you for messing with his latest trinket, but because you could've gotten seriously hurt! that's not a game he's willing to play. unlike the medic, he doesn't often fuck around with satan, the poor texan doesn't want to grow more grey hair in his... beard? eyebrows? i don't know, dell is practically bald.

"WHAT were you THINKING?" The Texan dropped his hard hat onto the desk beside him. The man works late nights to make sure no one gets royally fucked by that dangerous machine his Grandfather created a few generations before, and you're skipping out of it like it's a playground? It's safe to say his blood pressure suffers due to your recklessness. Though it was clear his volume was unwarranted, he finally started over with a long sigh, talking at a normal volume. "Y'know that thin' wasn't always 'dere? Dontcha? Don't get too comfortable with that thin'. I don' wanna see you get hurt, y' hear me?" Dell really didn't want to hear your side of the argument, after all, in his mind there was no reason in hell OR heaven for you to just casually run at the flames of the opposing Pyro for 'funsies'. Imagine how it is for him to see you die in numerous ways on the battle field. It AIN'T NICE, to say the least.

no matter how long the argument went on, he would eventually shut you down with a good 'don't pull that shit again' and move out to take a lap. he takes a lot longer to cool down than the other two defense mercenaries, mostly because whenever he argues genuinely, it gets rather personal. even if to you it seemed rather 'impersonal' and 'professional' feel-y, in his heart it was because all the machinery is what gives his family their name. whenever he sees someone messing around with it? it genuinely ticks him off.

HEAVY

man of little words argues the least, mostly because, unlike engineers, everything is rather impersonal. he's definitely heard it all, and while i don't think he apologises as often, it's also just difficult to get him to argue THAT BADLY. the most you get out of him is maybe two words telling you not to do something, and even then there's not that much room for argument is there? you either do what he's asked of you or you don't. both are things he can't quite control. he's just as stubborn, as you can tell he just does his own thing, only following directions when he can see it's vital for his or others' survival.

not impossible to argue with him, however. there are times when you can get him to argue, but its usually not anything important. perhaps you had a different opinion on how a cliffhanger was supposed to be interpreted? now we're getting somewhere. maybe you have a rather negative imagine of fyodor's brothers. he's not gonna let you pass without explaining why.

"I just didn't understand what the Father was supposed to mean in all that!" You may have exclaimed as you sat across from the largest mercenary on the team, yet sat composed in a comfortable sofa chair, with small glasses and a comically small book in hand. He wasn't usually seen like this, after all, most people see him screaming violently on the field. It's only this side that you see most commonly late at night. The way you seemed to speak of it was rather surface-level. Which, not to blame you, it's a Russian novel, not many are reading it at all. Heavy never owned books in English. So it's really just for you to 'suck up and take' while reading with him. Thankfully, he's taught you enough to have you fill in the blanks with common sense. Perhaps it was just American society getting to you. Back at home, the meaning was a lot easier to grasp, knowing that most were under a similar crushing situation under the new rule. At least in Russian society, where a lot of knowledge is needed to even begin to understand the book, the brothers' differences were clear in what they represented and what their father represented, especially in the modern day with the uprising and new government, filled with Soviet control. The man stared lost in thought at you, which is mighty intimidating on its own, before actually speaking up. "Ah, no." He simply shook his head, leaning forward in his chair for you to hear him better, "He uses father in metaphor not..." He snapped his finger attempting to remember the English word for his sentence. "Literal. Father mean more than just caretaker. Mean oppression." It sounded as if he were to continue before he simply sat back and relaxed back into his chair.

it didn't exactly feel like an argument, in fact it felt more like he was informing you. but that's genuinely the closest i could ever imagine him getting to an argument. he just doesn't seem like that type of guy.

[desired-fantasy-writings]

hello! hey!

I was thinking if you could maybe write some headcanons or maybe some comforting/tender imagines for the defence mercs with an s/o with low self esteem? the choice is yours really, I don't mind either way

Defense Mercs with an S/O that has low self esteem

A/N: I love these silly goobers sm I absolutely loved working on this. The past couple months for me have been tough so this was just as comforting to me as I hope it shall be for you, my dear readers. <3

Also all nicknames used are exclusively meant to be gender neutral!

Requested by: Anon Warnings: Tiny bit of angst, self doubt. Readers Gender: Gender Neutral Fanfic Type: Headcanons Fanfic Genre: Comfort Word Count: 677

Tavish (Demoman) 

The most he’ll do to cheer up his S/O is by making them laugh, giving them love - doing his drunk shenanigans or whatever else to see them smiling again.

Is not sure how to be the greatest support for them, but he’ll try until something works! When it comes to his partner, he never wants to give up.

If his S/O’s into board games (or poker) related he's pulling the whole collection out. 

Gets into super deep, non-stop drunk ramblings about how wonderful his S/O is when they bring up how they've been feeling about themselves lately. Will go far and beyond to prove all their doubts wrong. 

“Duckie, what you are… no I- You're so… Don’t say that… rubbish… ever again. You hear me? You're so beautiful. I wish you could see what I see in ya.” Tavish drunkenly mumbles against his S/O’s lips, giving them sloppy loving kisses all over. 

The man's not a poet or much of a romantic gentleman, but god damn nothing will stop him from expressing his love for his S/O… even if it's not in the most pleasant way.

Misha (Heavy)

Misha is a special kind of man who knows how to use his strengths - in this case physically and mentally. Will hold his S/O close if they desire that type of physical comfort from him. If his S/O would rather talk about it instead he's a very good listener and emotionally more mature than most men. Thank his mother and sisters for that. Will not speak unless his S/O is done talking about whatever's going on.

As emotionally mature as he is and intelligent - he often has trouble figuring out the right words to say at the moment.

When his S/O explains further about how they feel about themselves, Misha scoffs, a displeased rumble coming from his chest.

“Vhat?-” Misha says, surprised. Nothing about what his S/O said was true. He shakes his head, obviously disapproving, bringing his S/O close to him “-Heavy thinks vhat you say is nonsense, my милый. You're vonderful! Don’t say such awful things about self.”

Dell (Engineer)

Dell's used to this sort of thing being the person that most of the team go to for advice. When it comes to his S/O it hurts him seeing them so down and talking so lowly about themselves. What they're simply saying is SO untrue. 

In this situation he’ll take both him and his S/O out to the camping spot near the base, just the two of you. He finds being stuck inside when feeling like that isn't good for his S/O and will make them go outside no matter how much they protest. 

Simple peace and quiet, getting away from their colleagues for the night is his way of relaxing and getting out of his head. He wants to share that with his S/O, too. 

Dell of course brings his guitar with him, playing sweet ol’ songs just for his S/O. Dell hasn’t forgotten about bringing his S/O their favourite snacks and blankets as they cuddle by the fire all night. Dell’s such a sweetie pie and would do anything to get his S/O out of the negative headspace.

“Darlin’, the nonsense you’re simply spewing is untrue. You’re an incredible individual that's been such an asset for this team.” Dell mumbles into his S/O’s hair, the scent of them further relaxing him. He snuggles into them closer, nuzzling his nose into their hair - leaving a kiss.

“Look… me and the fellas don’t say it enough, but you really are somethin’ special. We wouldn’t have won as many matches as we have without you-" Dell pulls away for a moment, grabbing his S/O’s face gently to look up at him, he smiles warmly staring into their eyes so full of love “-And… you simply have captured my heart like no one has darlin’. Remember that. I love you for you and always sweet pea.”

[holfelderwrites124]

NEW BOOK ALERT

I'm done querying -- I suspected no one would pick up this character driven, adventure, aromantic, slice-of-life getting together story. I love it, it's my wife's favorite out of everything I've written, and I think there's an audience out there for it. BUT no one in publishing thinks so. And I'm okay with that!

TIME TO SELF PUBLISH:

Finding Home

Finding Home is Liam and Delle's story. Liam is a trans (ftm) police homicide detective who falls in love with the new agender aromantic pathologist he has to work with. Convinced he is unlovable and desperate to respect Delle's aromantic status, Liam locks his heart away and throws himself into work. (Read: danger) Liam has a propensity for getting himself in scrapes. Luckily, Delle seems to be there to catch him every time.

Finding Home isn't quite a plice procedural - there's not one single overarching thread of a "case", but rather a few little cases that Liam ends up entangled in. This book is driven by the characters, not the plot, and that's a major reason it was rejected.

It's a fun read, imo, with a few minor tw for gin violence, blood, and a few mentions of sexual assault (but no detail and it doesn't happen on screen).

Finding Home is the perfect book for anyone interested in aromantic "getting together" stories - proving that Love can take many forms.

I'll be releasing more in the coming days. No release date set yet, but definitely before the end of October 2024.

PLEASE shoot me questions about Finding Home. I love talking about it 💚

[downthedraincomic]

Finally made an actual age/timeline thing for Sam and Brandon WOOHOO!

Sam has one less image because honestly she looks almost exactly the same. She just looks more tired (who can blame her).

I'll make a thing showing alternate fits because they look so DRY but I mean they're both cringefail loser squids

[enchantedchocolatebars]

How would kid Philip interact Gwen and Dell Clawthorne?

He loves that they gift him with witch food and treats that he can eat, as well as carved little knick-knacks as presents.

However, he hates (he secretly loves it) and pouts when they're overly affectionate toward him (giving him lots of hugs and cheek kisses).

He sees a lot of similarities between them and Evelyn's parents.

[starsfic]

Luz and King getting to meet Dell for the first time. Before or after day of unity your call

"She's wonderful."

Luz nearly jumped at the voice from behind her. To be fair, she was distracted by the bustle of the Owl House once again coming to life with the people cooking dinner, eating appetizers, and catching up. In her hands, Stringbean let out a soft giggle, the noise reminding her of the videos of her mami as a child. She turned and felt her eyes go wide.

The man was old, but his eyes had a familiar gleam. Luz had heard about him, but never expected to meet him. "Mr. Clawthorne?"

"You can just call me Dell, if you wish." He held out his hand. "May I see her?" Luz, for a moment, nearly set her hand in his before remembering what his job had been. She nodded, and Stringbean scooted out, settling on Dell's hand with a proud little hiss.

"You did a wonderful job carving them," Dell said again, trained eyes probably scanning, looking over her Palismen. "It's been a while since I've heard of a shifting Palismen, though. They're adorable!"

"Yeah, she is." Luz felt a smile tug on her lips. "Eda helped me carve her egg."

Dell chuckled. "Oh, she did? Did she tell you I helped her carve Owlbert?"

Eda had, her voice soothing as she guided Luz. "My dad helped me do this," she had said, something hitching in her voice. "He loved Palismen. He was heartbroken when he was unable to carve them anymore."

"She did. She loved it."

Dell chuckled, moving forward and gently pressing his forehead against Stringbean. Her snakeshifter's tongue darted out, licking a tear away.

"I did too."

[consumable-clots]

Dell

"Male", he/him, 165cm, Hyperdyne Systems 120-A/2

Role: Medical officer/biologist

Assignment: Special Research Vehicle - Solaris

Backstory:

Although Dell is the same model synthetic as Ash, he was made in an earlier round of releases. Minor differences in software/hardware specs means his capabilities also differ slightly.

He was brought on to the Solaris, a W-Y and 3WE funded special research vessel, as part of the early test run of synthetic officers on long-haul flights. Their medical officer had just retired and they needed a replacement.

Dell incurred some manufacturing defects, he was put on watch in case there was significant damage instead of being destroyed outright. His issues were deemed minor and so he was put on the B-grade product catalogue. It was Jude Wilheard, the Solaris' chief engineer's idea to check the cheaper synthetics.

Personality and mannerisms:

As a crew mate he's well-meaning but dense. Unlike Ash, he's very wary of the crew's health and safety, but also easily moved to action by their collective bravado and impulsiveness. (there is no voice of reason on this boat, sorry)

He is terminally curious but lacks situational awareness, often leading him into trials and tribulations ranging from walking into doors to getting caught in fights that he could have avoided.

A bit too willing to trust humans and has a hard time recognising red flags. He's also skittish and easily shaken and has a tendency to stall/freeze up in unfamiliar situations. Which means he often gets into trouble and can't get himself out.

He has a one-track mind and dedicates himself to his work and enjoys learning about alien lifeforms (very much not aware that he's in a horror movie world.)

The speed of his processing is slightly below target for his specs and is noticeably slower than the current models. Due to the less than stellar comments from the company's product testing department, he underestimates his abilities and is often unsure of his own judgement. He's also a bit of a people-pleaser and wants all humans to like him very much, is easily manipulated, and becomes frustrated quickly.

Participating in human activities is a key part of his daily life, and he's heavily involved with the humans' personal lives. His crew is very close with him and they all function as a single unit, very in sync with each other's habits and needs.

Something else that differentiates him from Ash is his body language. He moves in a meandering, unhurried manner rather than the sharp and purposeful way most synthetics carry themselves. Dell experiences a lot of emotions and expresses them often, he's quite animated and easy to read.

Easily excitable, friendly and gullible, his personality is quite a surprise to those expecting the detached demeanour of most synthetics, almost the opposite of Ash.

Appearance and other physical attributes:

A man in his mid fourties, short and slightly chubby. Looks almost exactly like Ash except for a 'scar' on the left side of his head from an injury that's hidden by his hair and the slightly discoloured splotch under his left eye. It's barely visible and most people don't notice unless its pointed out.

Compared to Ash, Dell has a 'kinder' looking face, his standard expression is more placid, which sometimes gives people the impression that he's an airhead.

While it's not immediately obvious from the outside, his right hip joint is structurally malformed and causes the limb to rotate inwards which also affects the positioning of his leg. The deformity does not impact his mobility much aside from a noticeable limp and uneven stance, he walks slowly to minimise the effect. Most days he doesn't need a mobility aid unless the misaligned components become worn down, requiring maintenance.

Wears a different outfit/uniform that's more suited for field work

Durable woven, water-repellent synthetic fiber work jacket with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and matching cargo pants. Muted grey-green with a slight shine.

Inner layer is a white, sleeveless high-necked shirt

Often paired with white, wrist length cotton PVC dotted gloves

Off-white, steel-toed work boots

Solaris and Weyland-Yutani patches on the jacket sleeves

Green cotton cadet cap

Extendable cane with built in stun gun function (Wilheard's design)

Misc. info:

Likes to play with bugs and make entomology mounts

Powers down to sleep mode during night hours. Sleeps curled up in a ball and sleepwalks if alone due to faulty motor suppression mechanism

Battery issue resulting in reduced time span between charges

Infographic of the A/2s for comparison

[komero-otus]

not enough fics go down to town exploring the concept of engineer sawing off his own hand in the name of science and stupidity (and hyperindependence and needing to prove something and-)

[pixiestix0-0]

literally can’t stop thinking about the engineer and his family like its not only the legacy of becoming an inventive engineer for the red vs blu war but also slowly destroying yourself to prove something. like each conagher ended up mutilating their bodies to test an invention. pointing out how nothing was wrong with dell’s hand when the same could be said for radigan (but also ignoring the fact that the dude was on like pounds of australium so who knows). like if you look at dell’s backstory under the hypothetical lens of “proving himself to the conagher name” its makes stuff like the arm thing and the 11 phd’s look very concerning. on one hand there’s nothing against him actually just wanting to follow in his family’s footsteps but on the other hand if you were really born into this life don’t you think even a little part of you would think that this is your only choice? and if you found your grandfather’s blueprints, and with it another way to make something new of yourself, is it really that extreme to give up a hand for it?

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

Stepping Stones: Chapter 12

Eda folds her arms, shaking her head at the woman in the mirror. “Oh, girl,” she sighs. “What have you become?”

She looks great, of course. She always does. The issue is the vibe. Usually, Eda has one of two philosophies for getting ready: let her natural beauty do all the work, or dress to impress. This time, for the first time in her life, she has done neither. For the first time in her life, she has dressed to look professional.

“They’ve already changed me,” she sighs. 

“Who’s already changed you?” Raine opens the door to their bedroom, slipping inside— and then widens their eyes when they catch sight of her. “Wow. You look great.”

“I know,” she preens, and they roll their eyes good-naturedly.

“So what don’t you like about it?”

“Come on, Rainestorm. Have you ever seen me look this put-together? It’s not my brand. This business of having students, plural. It’s a menace.”

Raine smiles, coming to stand behind her and wrapping their arms around her. “I think it’s a good look.” 

Eda sighs, even as she relaxes into their embrace. “I had to ask Lilith for advice on what to wear.”

Finally, Raine looks appropriately unnerved. “She picked that out for you? I didn’t think she had it in her.”

“Clearly you knew better than me. I figured all that time as a prissy coven head taught her something about professional dress. Turns out she called Darius for advice every time she went out.”

“Ah, so Headmaster Clawthorne’s look only came about through Darius’s intervention.”

“The sacrifices we make for power.”

Raine laughs, planting a kiss on her cheek and stepping back. “Well, I like it.”

“Then I suppose I can come to accept it,” Eda says with a world-weary sigh. “Yours is the only opinion that matters anyway.”

“It’s just missing one thing.”

Finally, Eda tears her gaze from the mirror, making peace with it. “And that is?”

She turns to find Raine holding out their earring.

The one they’ve worn since their first day at Hexside.

Eda’s humor falls away, and she meets their eyes. “Why?”

“Well,” they say, rubbing the back of their neck with their free hand, “I know we agreed a long time ago that we didn’t want rings.”

Eda isn’t surprised they remember. She let it slip when they were dating the first time, after Hexside but before their relationship had started going downhill, that she hated the idea that a relationship had to be witnessed by the proper authorities and bound by magic and paperwork in order to be considered real. She still remembers the relief she felt when Raine agreed— though she knows their motivation stemmed more from the fact that being stared at by a bunch of people for hours was not their idea of a romantic day. 

“But,” Raine continues, “I know how nervous you’ve been for today. I wanted you to have something that will always tell you I’m with you, no matter what. Curse or no, magic or no, whether you have one student or one hundred— we’re in this together.”

Eda turns her face skyward, blinking fast, but the snort she makes trying to swallow back her tears belies any effort she could make to hide them. Raine has the audacity to laugh at the noise, and she shakes her head, wiping her eyes and beaming at them.

“Thanks, Rainestorm,” she says hoarsely, and they kiss her hand as she wraps it around the earring.

She takes a deep breath, drawing back some of her composure, and places the earring beside the mirror. “It’s only fair that I offer you some kind of token, too,” she says. She reaches for the gold stones she’s worn in her ears since graduation. Then, with a face as serious as death, she moves her hand past them, uses it to unscrew her prosthetic, and offers it to Raine.

They look from it to her, their face perfectly straight. “Eda,” they say flatly, “I’m not going to take your hand in marriage. We just talked about this.”

Eda throws back her head and laughs, replacing the hand, and then she really does take off her earrings. Both of them put their new earrings into their ears, and as Eda brushes her fingers along the metal, she realizes that Raine was right. This was what the outfit was missing; she’s no longer afraid of it.

And judging by the grin on Raine’s face, they know it. “Ready to go, Headmaster?”

“Ready when you are, Councilor,” she says, and slides her arm through theirs.

…

You’d never know it from the rate at which Belos consumed them, but palistrom trees grow at an almost terrifying speed. The seed Eda planted ten months ago has grown into a towering tree, with golden light seeping from windows that were painstakingly shaped in the wood so as to allow students to roam the inside of it without killing it. It’s grand, and magical, and everything Eda has always thought a school of magic should be. She passes the sign in front of it, running the tip of her hook along the logo Luz designed and the words University of Wild Magic below it. Part of her still can’t believe it’s actually real.

It brings her some relief to see that the people of the Isles seem as spellbound by it as she is. Her first incoming class and their parents, siblings, and friends are all milling around with wide eyes and grins. She only has eyes for five people, however, all standing at the foot of the tree.

“Eda!” Luz runs at her full-speed, sending her stumbling away from Raine and almost crashing to the ground with the force of her embrace. King is there a second later, clambering up her to wrap his arms around her neck.

“Look at this place!” Luz cries. “It’s incredible!”

“It really is,” Eda’s dad agrees softly. He extends a hand to steady her. “Well done, witchlet.”

Eda squeezes her hand. “Well, it wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“Oh, we’re just so proud,” her mom coos, wrapping her arms around her. Eda pats her back, her eyes finding Lilith over her shoulder, and lets go of her to embrace her sister.

“Aren’t you proud of me, Lily? I’m finally taking school seriously.”

“Truly, it gladdens my heart.” Lilith pulls back and places her hands on Eda’s shoulders, looking her over. “Darius helped you pick out a wonderful outfit, you look like a true leader. And—“ she pauses. “Is that Raine’s earring?”

Eda smiles. “Yeah. They gave it to me before we left. They knew I was nervous about today, and they wanted me to have something to remind me they love me, even if they weren’t physically with me.”

To Eda’s shock, Lilith’s eyes well with tears. “Lily?” she asks, unnerved. Lilith has never been much of a romantic.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Lilith hastily wipes her eyes. “It’s just— it’s really good to see the two of you together again. It was my fault that you broke up, I know it was— and they were the love of your life— and I was so worried it would never work out…”

Eda raises her hands, cupping Lilith’s face. “Lily.” She waits until her sister meets her eyes. “For someone who takes so much delight in foisting her knowledge on other people, you can be very stupid.”

Lilith lets out a short gasp of laughter.

“Raine and I broke up because of me,” Eda says clearly. “If the curse was the problem, we wouldn’t be together now. The problem was that I could never accept it. I tried to push away an enormous part of who I was— and in doing so, I gave them a relationship with someone who didn’t exist. I’ve made my peace with the curse, and because I care about all of myself, I can let them care about me. You need to make your peace with it, too.”

“I ruined your life—"

“You did not ruin my life.” Eda spreads her arms, trying to encompass herself, and the people behind her, and the school behind them. “I have a partner and two kids I love and who love me, parents and a sister I’m on good terms with, a government that doesn’t dictate what kind of magic I learn or teach, and a school I’m opening that looks to be very successful. Plus, I can grow wings on command. I’m really fine.” She reaches out again, taking Lilith’s hands and squeezing them. “The only person whose life you’re ruining because of this regret is your own.”

“Eda, I’m never going to stop regretting it—"

“I’m not asking you too. But regret and forgiveness aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Eda!” She turns to find Darius waving to her. “Time to get ready.”

“Just think about it.” She squeezes Lilith’s hands and turns, following Darius inside the tree and closing the door behind them. 

They wind their way through the halls and outside again to one of the platforms nestled in the tree’s branches, where Alador is waiting with a microphone he hands to her. Of course, he’s already thinking about the next thing, not sparing so much as a word for her before he shuffles inside. Eda smiles anyway.

She tightens her hands on the microphone and steps forward, glancing at Darius. He gives her a little nod.

“Hello, everyone,” she says, and her voice echoes down through the forest, effectively silencing the waiting crowd.

“Welcome to the University of Wild Magic. We’ll be open for classes next month. You’re all here because you’ve seen a broadcast on a crystal ball or a post on penstagram or picked up one of our brochures and decided the stuff we teach here was worth checking out. Thank you for that.”

She watches the crowd carefully as she speaks. Most of their faces are intent. Her friends and family are beaming openly. Except— where is Lilith? She was standing with their parents only ten minutes ago, but now she’s nowhere to be found.

Eda tries to shake it off, telling herself she must be elsewhere in the crowd. “I’m not much for speeches,” she continues, “so as an introduction, I thought I’d give you all the floor. What questions can I answer for you tonight?”

There’s a long pause— and then a hand in the middle of the crowd raises.

“Yes?”

“How are you going to teach us if you don’t have any powers?”

She told herself it was coming. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. She takes a deep breath, trying to remember the answer she prepared, refusing to let her voice shake—

“I wouldn’t call her powerless,” a voice says from behind her. Eda turns around to see Lilith flying down to the platform— flying down to the platform— because Lilith is a harpy—

“You did it,” Eda gasps, and her sister grins. 

“I had a good teacher.”

They both turn back to the crowd, and Eda can see them piecing things together. Enough of them saw Eda go into harpy mode, enough of them know Lilith shares her curse, to understand what Lilith has managed to do. 

“I’m afraid the harpy powers are a Clawthorne sister exclusive,” Eda says, and a laugh rolls through the crowd like a wave that breaks the tension. “But I can assure you that I have experience with many forms of magic. How much of that can I teach you?” She closes her eyes, has a few words with the Owl Beast. When she opens them, she stands just a little taller over the crowd, spreading her wings as wide as they’ll go. “As much as you’re willing to learn from a powerless witch.”

Raine gives a piercing whistle and Luz starts a fit of clapping that quickly spreads into a full round of applause. When the noise dies down, Eda continues, “but speaking of the curriculum, does anyone have any more specific questions on what it will entail?”

They do, of course, and the queries are phrased much more respectfully. People want to know about coven magic and how it will be taught, the ratio of knowledge to practical skill teaching, what new topics she’s going to cover. And to her surprise, she delights in thinking about it, in giving them the answers she prepared and thinking over the ones that she didn’t. It’s Darius who finally puts an end to it, sweeping up beside her and leaning into the microphone. 

“Unfortunately, if we want to give you all ample time to tour the school, that’s all the time we’ve got,” he says. “Any further inquiries can be directed to the school Penstagram account, or you can ask Headmaster Clawthorne during the tour.”

Another round of applause follows this, and Eda lets out a long breath, suddenly tired. The crowd begins moving towards the doors, and she, Lilith, and Darius walk back inside.

“I am amazed that you went on for as long as you did,” Darius sighs as they walk.

“I’m not,” Lilith replies idly.

Eda glances at her. “You’re not?”

“I don’t think I can ever recall a full class at Hexside that she sat through without blowing something up,” Darius adds.

“Because she wanted to show off her magic. Eda, I'm sure you used your powers at... inopportune moments because you wanted people to notice them. To be as fascinated by that kind of magic as you were. Of course you’re going to be good at teaching it.”

That makes Eda pause, stopping in the middle of the hallway. It sounds so simple when she puts it like that. 

For someone who takes so much delight in foisting her knowledge on other people, you can be very stupid, she hears herself telling Lilith, and she has to laugh. For all the knowledge they’re giving the next generation, they still have plenty to learn about themselves. Between each other and their curses, their allies and their enemies, they’ve had quite the array of teachers.

Eda supposes she’s about to welcome a new one.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she sighs, and pushes open the doors.

[lovetogether]

I think C mostly upset Dell because Dell didn’t like that he could hate somebody that much, let alone himself.

[cluelessatthispoint]

Engineer x pyro

Pyro showing engineer there face for the first time and scare he'll freak out due to all the fire damage and scared they'll lose him

I love this ship. It's one of my favorites! Pyro is such a chaotic lil fire guy and Engineer is ready to help/prevent any mischief.

This is so sweet, and I was crying as I wrote this! Thank you so much for this lovely request.

~~~~~~~~

Pyro grasped the bottom edges of his mask nervously as he stood facing the mirror in Engineer's workshop restroom. The yellow lighting made the whole room appear pale yellow, the buzzing from the florescent lightbulbs accompanied by his soft breathing were the only noises to break the harsh silence. A thousand...no, a million thoughts ran through his head as he peeled up the bottom edges of his gas mask. Rough, scarred, horrid skin starred back from the mirror. It hurt to be like this. Harsh to look at, so strange and unsettling...even to him. How could Dell even love him?

How could Dell even accept him if he couldn't bear to even look at himself in a mirror? Feeling his breath become shallower, he gripped the edge of the bathroom sink to steady himself. His palms felt sweaty, and his harsh grip hurt. The tips of his fingers started to tingle. Startling him from his intrusive thoughts; two slightly burly arms wrapped around his waist and the feeling of a familiar face pressed down into his shoulder.

"Everything alright in here Py?"

Shaking his head slightly no, Pyro tugged the mask back on even lower. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. The feeling of his eyes burning with tears made him sniffle softly. The sound of Dell sighing gently met his ears.

"Oh Fireball....don't cry. It's okay. I'm here, what's wrong?"

Dell gently turned Pyro around to face him and wrapped his arms around him in a warm embrace. The smell of engine oil, sweat and some deodorant met his nostrils. Inhaling softly and exhaling just as softly Pyro let his shoulder relax into Dell's embrace. The feeling of just being held in his lover's arms made him feel so loved and yet so disappointed. Not disappointed with the situation, just disappointment with himself. How could he ever let Dell see him like this? So broken...so scarred?

"Hey now. You don't have to show me your face if you don't want to. I love you just the way that you are. I feel in love with you for your personality. I love you for you and nothing else."

Pyro felt his shoulders shake with messy inhales and sobs. It felt so good to hear those words. Burying his face into Engineer's neck he peeled off his mask slowly. The sound of rubber and latex rustling echoed across the tile. With his mask off the two stood and stayed there. Just the two of them holding each other close in the yellow florescent lights of the bathroom. It couldn't be more perfect.

~~~~

AAAAAGH! SO SWEET!

[ran-orimoto]

The fact that I have got Anons asking about Chiaki reminded me I still have to give her an adult design lol. I told myself I wanted to cut her hair BUT NOW I FEEL GUILTY because her braids can’t be erased like that~~~ and I have got some drafts about Ran wanting Junpei to braid her hair lmaooo, which I’d like to keep since Ran’s admiration for Chiaki never ends.

There are so many braids styles tbh. In the past I wanted her to have a sort of topknot with braids decorating it, which is a good idea also because ,though it is a complicated and sophisticated style, it might fit the enviroment of both La Scala and Metropolitan.