i'm scared | realization

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  • A stubborn child with wideset shoulders and big, round paws, Apollo didn't think himself to be in this position in his short life, ever. To resent his sister on the base fact that she was born biologically different than him, to distance himself from his brothers so that he wouldn't struggle with his gender identity for longer. On the surface, it seemed almost silly. After all, aside from a few differences visually, his body made no stakes to claim whether he was male or female. But it seemed that those few differences bothered him enough to spark conflict within himself, for him to shove away family and try to find comfort elsewhere. He tried adventuring, tried hiding, and tried talking, but nothing seemed to be enough.

    Today, the young child would try another thing. It wasn't another hobby or coping mechanism, but rather something that was final. Apollo stared into a broken mirror, a ribbon wrapped around his head and tied into a bow at the top. It was hardly a difference, and he was sure that if he asked anyone, they would say that he could like wearing bows and still be a boy - but that wasn't the point he wished to make. This wasn't about gender norms or the biology or - anything like that. Maybe when he was older he would be able to explain it more.

    The NPC lingered after their handiwork and had asked if it was good for the young prince. Apollo stared at his reflection and pulled back his folded ears. Teal eyes tilted upwards to look at the NPC, "Do you think Acantha fits me?" he was quiet, subtle, something no one would think of when they saw him. The NPC blinked a few times and smiled, nodding, and Apollo went on, "I like Acantha. I like... I want to be a girl," would it be that simple? He wanted it to be. The shift in pronouns was so close but he wanted the confirmation. He wanted the validation. But... the child wasn't quite sure how to get it. Paws tugged at the ribbon absentmindedly, lips pursed, unaware of those who passed by and heard his words.

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  • ・゚ ✦ ° ― solkatt knew so much and so little at the same time . he delved into books and studies like rosemary did , but that could only carry you so far . he was only five months old and lacked any accumulated life experience , and was still left unsure about quite a bit . but he did know he loved his siblings , for all their differences . and sure , sonata made him want to bury himself in the ground sometimes , but he would never stop loving her . and this was something similar , at least , he thinks so .

    it's the only kind of experience he could liken apollo's words to , though they confused him to no end . " apollo , " he starts as he stops in his tracks to face his brother . well , sister ? " acantha . " solkatt tests the name on his tongue , and finds he likes it . definitely a beautiful name . the prince pauses contemplatively , studying the bow and the form of his sibling . " i don't understand . . . but it's alright , " he offers up hopefully . maybe one of the many books has the answers , or perhaps acantha could be a stand in for the written word . " the bow looks good on you ! we can try to make more of them together , if you like . "



  • male, female, such societal norms of the modern age never fazed or drew much attention from witchsmark. not when he radiates that of poised regality draped in sophisticated androgyny effortlessly where envy filled aphrodite gapes in awe. too often does a slip of tongue assume him feminine for softer features and softer voice, yet never held any mind or grudge against accidental mistakes. yet, this is not the story at here before them. no, this is of self discovery and a self-forged path towards a future of being comfort within one's own skin at day's end. it brings forth a pleasant smile upon pearl lips upon arrival, slow in awake from recovering wounds, but attentive to the scene in the end. gracious eyes of golden evergreens roam over solkatt-amadeus, pride quick in swelling deep and wide within breast bone at choice of words. such is what's need in important and crucial moments like this.

    careful, ever careful, does witchsmark settled down beside his little brother, faint hum of deep thought to vibrate honeyed throat. no longer apollo but acantha. "acantha? what a beautiful name for a beloved princess," light trill of a rustic purr, airy murmur to filter through ivories. "as solkatt-amadeus said, it looks wonderful on you. perhaps we could make some ribbons as well?"

  • you're not worth my color —— tags

    He wouldn't usually find himself involved in situations that involved affirmations such as this, but Merlot found himself drawn over. He, too, had been born into an identity that wasn't right for him, and had had to figure that out as he grew older. A gentle smile was spread across his muzzle and he ventured over shorty after Witchsmark. "The name suits you well, Acantha," he said, voice soft as he took a seat. He wouldn't get too involved in the situation; if he was asked to, he wouldn't refuse, but he only knew each of those present through a few short moments of interaction. Instead, he simply lingered, ready to stay or to move on, depending on how things went.



    I’D GO, I’D GO

    solaris sunchaser ∙ ruins nurse ∙ icon by raebaer ∙ art by kedamono ∙ tags

  • The sound of more pawsteps traveled up the kitten's spine, something akin to fear burrowing in the bones and causing minute tremors. Apollo was called but Acantha refused, almost immediately, to answer to that. The child turned folded ears towards Solkatt, but before long he corrected himself, using the name that was murmured moments before. Instead of a usual gremlin smile, a softer one spread on a white splotched face as Acantha turned towards him, his offer to make more bows resting on the busy mind of the young child for moments to come.

    "I like Acantha," the statement was clear, "I don't - I don't understand either. Daddy said that chance made me a boy, but... I wanna be a girl. I like it," short choppy sentences left pouting lips. Witchsmark approached next, extending the same offer as Solkatt. Acantha looked between them and flicked her folded ears, her's. The pro-noun shift in her inner thoughts was hardly sudden, as if prior it was absent, only now adjusting and committing. It felt right, "I won't be like Sonata, I promise. I'll still play games with you, and only turn my nose up a little bit," Acantha promised her brother, the excitement over the situation bubbling over. Witchsmark's comment, calling her a princess, made her chest warm, but she focused on the ribbons, "Yeah! I want to get better at... delicate things," after all, that was what girls did, right? She didn't think she could give up roughhousing, but she could at least do simple things like tying a bow to feel comfortable in her own skin.

    Merlot approached - someone she knew vaguely but never properly met - and the child couldn't help but shine a grin at him, "I'm a girl now," she stated boldly, half tail wiggling behind her, "I'm princess Acantha," perhaps a bit overdone and snooty, but the excitement wasn't going to hide.

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