#give ‘em some gifted feathers!

[tcmecho]

Avian/wing AU brainrot currently so HERE HAVE THIS FOR ALL YOUR BIRD PEOPLE NEEDS!!

(Tag me in anything you make with this! I love seeing bird people content!!)

[apollo1three]

Hello! can I plz request the obey me bros with their children, you can choose if u want them to be their daughter, son or multiple. i just really wanna see them as like dads, like a scenario maybe when they learn to walk or say their first word you dnt have to if you don't want to! and if it's too much can i have just Beel Mammon or Lucifer :3

AHH MY FIRST REQUEST!!! I’m sorry for taking so long! I haven’t checked my dusty musty crusty a$$ inbox in a while ;-; also nonnie u don’t understand how much I love domestic, sappy, fluffy af stuff like this <3<3

Ofc I’ll do all of em, but I’ll do them in parts so you don’t have to wait for me to finish all seven ^^

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An unimaginable type of love (Lucifer x f!reader)

The demon brothers with their babies (1/7)

Demons are not born, he once told you; they manifest – either as a product of great sin or demonic energy. Demons do not feel the need to procreate, they cannot- they do not get pregnant, and they certainly do not give birth.  

So how is it that the Morningstar finds himself staring down into sparkling crimson eyes, reminiscent of the deep shade of his, with a softness akin to yours? How is it that he cradles a squirming bundle made from the love between him and his human wife?

With a life only ever dedicated to servitude, Lucifer would’ve never dreamt of creating a family of his own. Never in his time in the celestial realm would he have imagined small, fragile little arms, reaching out for him to hold them in his. Never could he have imagined the possibility of a being regarding him in the sentiment with which he had once regarded Him.

He eyes your sleeping form, snuggled into the comfort of the large bed, and he’s overcome with a fondness that words could not explain the level of. To be loved unconditionally by you, and to be given the most precious gift of all. What had he done to deserve such a thing? - something that was once an unfathomable idea - did he deserve it?

He cradles his daughter in his arms, stroking her little face, and the giggle she lets out is so precious, so much like you, and has him nuzzling his nose into her puffed up little cheeks. You had once light-heartedly complained to him about carrying her in your stomach for nine months, only to have her come out identical to him. Though he'd never admit it, your husband was proud of the notion (at the time, you swore you could see puffed up feathers behind his form), but it was irrefutable how the child carried herself with a poise that was undeniably like yours: a mischievous, yet endearing glint in her eyes that surely meant trouble in the foreseeable future. Lucifer didn’t mind, though.

He mutters, “my darling, what are you doing up so late at night?”, to which his only response is a squeal and few kicks of tiny feet. He tuts back, playfully. “So noisy, my love. Won’t you let your mother sleep?”

There’s a slight breeze from the open balcony, and he gets up from his side of the bed with your daughter rocking gently in his grasp. “Let’s go outside for a bit, come now.”

The way he carries her is careful, protective, and much more assured than the way he had first carried her after her birth. He wasn’t used to dealing with humans, let alone any living thing, in their infancy. Angels and demons did not have an infantile period, and it shook him inwardly the first time he held her, so small and breakable. You, a fully grown human woman, were fragile enough as is – but a human infant? It took some stern reassurance that the child he considered so small and breakable was his just as much as she was yours for his paranoia to waver.

‘She’s ours, Lu.’

(Fatherhood. Such a human experience, and he had only you to thank for it.)

Ushering to the Devildom fireflies, she blows raspberries that makes him want to litter his daughter in even more kisses. So he does, far more unreserved than if it were in front of you (while he loved you and trusted you with his heart and soul, showcasing such unabashed doting was still awkward for new to him). So disgustingly affectionate; the past him would’ve laughed at the notion of such outwards display of emotion directed towards anyone or anything – a hit to his pride, to the very thing he embodied. But to the him right now, such a thought never even crossed his mind.

“Do you see that, my love? Aren’t they pretty?”, he smiles softly, tenderly, eyes creasing at the corners. He pokes at her mouth, now endlessly razzing. “Alright, who taught you to do that? Was it Uncle Mammon? Belphie?"

To the him right now, his pride was in the form of his beautiful wife, and his darling little girl.

“Daddy will always protect you two, I swear on it.”

Absentmindedly stroking her head, a thousand thoughts run through his head. He contemplates heading back inside as the wind picks up, worried you might be getting cold. You’ve been all over the baby since she arrived (and even before then, too), insisting that her crib be placed in the both of your bedroom (much to Asmodeus’s chagrin, adamant that your old room would make the most beautiful human-realm-esque nursery) – while your motherliness was extremely attractive (or rather, all of you), and despite your daughter being an unusually well-behaved little thing, you deserved some quality rest.

He heads back, moving to lower her into her pink-embellished, Avatar of Lust™, crib, but freezes.

“Da..da!”

His movements are miniscule, microscopic, as he looks down at the cooing and giggling tot.

“Say- say that again, darling.”

“Dada!”

Time seems to slow, and he’s overcome with so much fondness, so much love.

“Haha! That’s right, here’s Dada..!” He practically throws her up into the air, accompanied by more squeaky giggles, and if anyone asks: no- his eyes don’t water (it’s merely the brightness of the Devildom moon).

Amidst childish laughter, she says it once more.

He lets out a shaky laugh of disbelief. His eyebrows are furrowed, and there's an uncharacteristically toothy grin on his face. Slowly, trembling hands (a fault of the temperature, obviously, despite him once mentioning the immunity of demons to things as 'trivial' as the weather) press his daughter's small body to his chest.

His daughter. His. His daughter. His wife. His brothers. His family.

It was then that he realised, although perhaps he had always known, that the love he felt for you and the life the two of you had created was different from His love. It was unconditional. The sort of love that allowed him to understand Lilith, the sort of love that he would gladly die for, kill for, be destroyed for. The sort of love that was once unattainable, unimaginable, was now closer than ever.

Lucifer wanted to share this moment with you.

“M-MC!”

[bamfwizard]

in honor of the birthday of the lady himself, "elements of juno that I headcanon or would draw in my version"

-chronic sweatpants wearer unless it's nureyev's turn to choose his outfit (they probably have one day, called something dumb like Fancy Friday, where Juno gives Nureyev permission to choose his outfit. it evolved into him taking the opportunity to style his hair, do his makeup, etc. Juno is content because it makes nureyev absolutely ecstatic)

-peacock feathers and motifs everywhere (probably a peacock feather patch on his boots)

-oh yeah, boots. big doc marten ass boots. chunky fucks. multiple pairs in diff colors. roses/dahlias on one of em

-mercury alchemical symbol earring on one ear, just because I've seen an earring like that and want to buy it because it's peak nonbinary fashion

-prefers minimalist or simpler clothes because he isn't much for receiving gifts, but most of his wardrobe just kinda.....appears there. it's obviously from nureyev. like, he knows that. a lot of it is more expensive than one would expect but he knows it's stolen and for some reason that comforts him?

-dresses whenever a heist or job allows for it. prefers sleeker, form-fitting ones that drive nureyev INSAAAANE

-curves curves ass ass so much ass and curves hips and booty just so absolutely hhhhgggg

-heels but never over 4 inches because he'd trip

-a few faded but very fashionable tattoos, most recently a tiny rabbit on his ankle

-GOLD EYE SHADOW EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME ALL OF IT HHHHH

-rita and him dyed the tips of their hair magenta at the end of s2 because FRIENDSSS

[phthalology]

“Will you help me?” The wound is not life-threatening. But sometimes letting someone else care for you isn’t about necessity.

“Lot of fuss about Ghosts lately,” said Drifter, and he sat down bonelessly on the lush grass of the Pale Heart.

Ikora didn’t move. She stared at the pool where the Speaker’s orrery had once spun. “Of course there is. Ghosts were the ones who destroyed the Witness, in the end.” 

It all gave Drifter the creeps. To look at the Pale Heart was to look at a tyrant’s idea of paradise, an endless growth inside a glass-walled prison. Cancer in a greenhouse. Other people found it comforting, for some reason. “And how is that sitting with you, with Ophiuchus as he is?”

Ikora laughed softly. “With me as I am, you mean.”

“It takes two.”

“That’s the point,” Ikora said. “If I had been with the Guardians who dealt the final blow, would Ophiuchus have been there for me? I don’t know. But I won’t give that to new Lights as a lesson. We need confidence now.”

“Ha, I guess there might be new little Lights after this who never even knew the Witness. Weird that the Traveler would keep making ‘em. Talk about a lack of confidence.”

“With that aurora in the sky and who knows what coming next, maybe we’ll need more Guardians after all.” Finally, she looked at him, with a directness that made him wonder what he had come here to say in the first place. 

Ghosts, sure. Even Eris was buddy-buddy with Immaru now. That Micah was a regular home for orphaned Ghosts. Drifter couldn’t shake his initial impression of his own Ghost as a tool, a vindictive resurrection machine that thought of humanity as a gun it could field-strip or fire dirty until a mechanical piece gave out. So, he’d made his Ghost into the same, striking first. Drifter had no doubt his muzzled Ghost would have fired at the Witness, because he’d have ordered it to. 

“I could use the near end of the world as an excuse to reconnect with Ophiuchus,” Ikora said. “But it’s been so long … I don’t know what sign I gave that let us reach this place, he and I. I don’t know what sign could bring us back together.”

“Ask him to help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“It doesn’t have to be world-saving help.” Drifter gestured up at the vines built of memory, at the place where outside the real Tower, the Traveler had once floated. “Just a little favor.” He sleight-of-handed a coin-sized stone eye, one of the strange pieces of detritus he’d found in the Pale Heart, out of his sleeve and across his knuckles. “A little gift.” 

Fact is, the Drifter had a little bit of that Warlock magic nowadays. He did not care what class any Guardian of this temporary age would call him, but between the Light and the Dark, he knew things even more than usual. Now, he knew Ikora was thinking of giving that heavy, little stone eye to her Ghost, trying to wrest some meaning out of the collision of Drifter’s Dark Age history and the wilderness of Light she walked. 

Her thoughts itched against his like someone stroking a feather along the inside of his skull. 

How do you stand this? He thought. Hearing other people’s brains going?

Peel thoughts apart with careful fingers, said Ikora. 

Her mental voice was somehow the exact opposite of her piercing looks. Eyes like stars, heart like the jet off a black hole. Some strange genius in between. Drifter remembered what he had come here to say. “Look, anyway, I’m setting up a Gambit arena in that little beachy spot underneath the Blooming. Forgiveness, permission, you know. Thank you, good night.” And away he would amble, neat and peachy clean, on the side of the Light and with a neat little side gig too. Only problem in the world was Guardians kept asking him if he could make some sort of tincture or moonshine out of Dread, and he’d have to say again that he didn’t do that stuff for fun, there were plenty of plants and regular supply runs in the Pale Heart now, eat those while you can, you sick freaks. 

Ikora caught his intent to amble before it even started. “So, you’re telling me I need to let Ophiuchus see I care, even after the world didn’t end.”

Drifter looked over her shoulder. “Now, I wouldn’t go that far. World might still end.” 

Ikora tossed the stone eye in the air. It floated above her palm. “I just don’t know how to do it,” she said, shoulders slumped. “How to let him help me. I can’t hug him like I can Cayde or Zavala.” She looked up, and Light her features looked different when she was about to cry, puffy and reddening. “Will you help me?”

He almost sighed with how badly he wanted to make some joke about the great Vanguard asking him for help. But he and the Vanguard hadn’t played those roles in a long time, not really. 

Without touching her, he slid his palm between her hand and the stone. He tried, Light he tried, for the first impression she received not to be of his constant urge to run as he opened his mind to hers. 

Look, he tried, clumsily. Do this. Remember the victory your people just brought you. You’re alive and Zavala is alive, and Ophiuchus and them. Remember they’re — Except he couldn’t hide anything. They’re not gonna stay forever.

Except Ikora wrestled that thought back, thinking of the people who had stayed. When she took a breath, his own lungs expanded, mechanically linked to her body now that their neurons thought they were the same brain. Could you do this to kill somebody? Drifter thought.

Ikora took another breath which had a distinct note of disapproval in it. Or maybe that disapproval came from his breath, his vicious hatred for what the Traveler had made him.  

Then Ikora found a memory of great love, of love like a field of yellow flowers under gentle sun. Gold filigree on his shell. Drifter pulled away, prey-beast startled by the second-hand affection of the Ghost. He had completely ignored his sight during the mind-meld and had to blink against the Pale Heart’s fake day. 

Ikora smiled like she hadn’t in years. “That’s it. That’s exactly what I’ll show him,” she said, looking sidelong at the Drifter. “Thank you.”

“You got us most of the way there,” he muttered. 

Ikora gave another unlikely smile, looking so gentle and comforted it shamed him. He saw in one of their minds’ eyes her hands holding the purple-and-gold shell to her cheek. Then the Light untangled from them, leaving him not sure who had tangled it in the first place — Ikora or himself or the Traveler, giving those orders it called blessings. 

Well, Ophiuchus would maybe be more likely to be around when Ikora needed him now, and she hadn’t said no to the new Gambit arena either. Off he ambled, Ikora behind him happy. 

[anitabighug]

❥ A Perfect Experiment : Wally x Reader (She/Her Pronouns, Named) ✿

Chapter Masterpost: [  ♡   ♡    ♡ ]

Chapter Five; Can’t Help Falling in Love ( A/N: This chapter has a lot of music involved with it! If you’d like to listen along, click the [♫] SONG NAME - ARTIST as you see them! ) ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● The four of you arrive in the square, and go your separate ways. Barnaby, who had carried Wally limply under his arm all the way over for some reason, dragged the boy over to the snack table to start the party up straight away. Howdy had his work cut out for him, that was for sure. You and Poppy scooch over to an empty table, and are quickly met by Julie, hiding her intentions with another pot of flowers that she sets up next to your record player. “Did you bring the goods, Buttercup?” She asks in a hushed tone, pupils darting from side to side. “Buttercup?” You raise your eyebrow, and Poppy pulls the cable out of your hand to start plugging things in. “Its your code name!!! I thought of ‘em myself. You’re Buttercup, Poppy is Pigeon, Sally,” She points across the field where Sally is, running an extension cord from Home to plug in the lights, “Is Honey, and I’m the Captain!” She shoves a thumb against her chest proudly. “Why do we need code names?” You settle into one of the folding chairs, and rest your head on your hands, peering up Julie. Your eyebrow remains cocked. “Every successful mission has code names. Scientific fact.” Julie waggled her eyebrows at you oh-so charmingly. Well, you can’t argue with that logic. You lift the record up from its resting spot, and Julie squeals, grabbing it from your hands and spinning. “There he is!!! The King Himself! This is going to be PERFECT!” She hands it back to you, bouncing up and down vigorously. Elvis’ face gives you a suave smile from the record sleeve where he rests, and you nod. Excellent choice. “Now!! Here's the plan.” Julie slaps a crudely drawn crayon map onto the table, pulling the two of you in close… ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Julie’s plan had you DJing the event, to wait for her signal. This was more than fine with you, you loved your record collection and were beyond psyched to show it off. Besides, you could dance just as well from the comfort and privacy of your chair. The sun had just set, and with a nod and a flourish, Frank had lit his project ablaze. It turned out to be an intricate bonfire, and it lit up the clearing beautifully, well worth his hard work. The beats from your speakers bounced around your neighbours, their booties shaking wildly. Phase one; Lull them into a false sense of security. It takes a boatload of willpower to keep the malicious smile off of your face. Something about this secret agent mission thrilled you, though you would never admit it. You’d gone home earlier briefly to change into something more party-appropriate, as had everyone else, it seemed. Your party outfit was based on extensive testing and focus groups, discussed amongst groups of experts, and had 100% chance of making you look ‘Just cute as a button!’ according to the top expert, Julie. By ‘extensive testing’, you of course mean that it won third place in the fashion show that you, Julie and Sally had put on in the comfort of your home. You’d claim nepotism, but the way the girls had looked at each other, it was obvious that they’d already tied long before you’d even moved to Home. The dress itself was pastel pink, some sort of pleather, tighter than you’d like, with a tall white collar and no sleeves. What it lacked in sleeves though, it made up for in a big poofy skirt, pink with a white underskirt as well. You paired it with a white belt, a pair of go-go boots that Julie had gifted you, and a bow sitting off to the side of your short hair, feathered back for the occasion. Just perfect, you concluded, and perfectly matched to your classy, fashionable friends!!! Sally’s outfit was out of this world. She had glitzy striped pants with frills going down the side, and the poofiest blouse you’d ever seen. Next to her, dragging Frank on to the dance floor, was Julie. She was absolutely dolled up, taking every advantage that this party gave her. You didn’t think her hair could get bigger before, but seeing it curled up into a beehive proved you wrong. No amount of science would be able to figure out how she got it to stay in place with all that crazy dancing. Frank had barely changed up his own outfit, merely opting to swap out his dress shirt with one with shorter sleeves for the heat, and leaving his bowtie at home– you weren’t sure what you preferred! You watched as Julie popped his collar, causing the two girls to start to giggle madly. Poppy’s usual shawl had been switched with one made of a beautiful lace, and the pearl necklace she’d included added that touch of grace and maturity you expected from her. Howdy had a short-sleeved dress shirt on, burgundy with little white flowers on it, and you had to admit he looked so charming with his hair slicked back like that. Barnaby might’ve been your favourite of all of them, you took one look at the vest he was wearing and wheezed out a laugh. It was the EXACT same as his usual vest, but with layered frills for days. It was probably to match Wally’s outfit, an expertly starched white dress shirt, and striped pants with the same layered frills on the ends of the legs. They looked adorable apart, but together it was almost too much for you! That left Eddie Dear, who had apparently only left to finish his evening rounds for the mail, returning a little shocked to find that everyone else had dressed up so fancy. Julie had a solution, however, discarding his cap and bag and setting a flower crown on his head. He looked absolutely delighted by it. [♫] Jailhouse Rock - Elvis Presley “Well don’t you just look cute as a button,” You almost couldn’t hear Wally’s suave tones over the music, but the compliment made you light up. “Th-thank you, Mr. Darling!!! I was a little worried I’d never get the chance to wear something like this,” You admitted with a laugh. He settled in next to you, and set a plate of snacks down beside the record player, “Ha ha ha. Who would’ve thought a little spit and polish would make everyone so happy?” He wondered aloud, “I thought you could use some company. You looked awfully lonely over here.” “Who could be lonely when they’ve got the king around?” You ask with a cheery laugh before lifting and taking a bite of one of the sandwiches he’d brought, following it with an appreciative ‘Mmm!’. Wally started looking around, checking behind your chair and frantically checking behind the two of you. It takes a few moments before you realise he’s looking for the King, and you nearly choke on your bite when it comes to you.

You manage to swallow it, and reach over, lifting up the record sleeve and pointing at the picture on the cover. Realisation floods the puppet’s face, followed swiftly by a blush across his cheeks. How cute… You hand him the sleeve to examine further, returning your attention to the sandwich he’d so kindly brought for you. Wally checks the sleeve over thoroughly, making sure that this ‘king’ wasn’t some strange intruder he had to be wary of. When he was satisfied of the lack of sentience, he finally took a good look at Elvis himself. He sure had excellent taste in hair, that was for sure. It was weird, though… Why was there a big lipgloss mark on The King’s cheek? You seemed to be so protective of your record collection… He felt a weird feeling shoot through his heart, and shoved it along with the record sleeve away, turning his focus on the rainbow monster that had scurried to the tableside. “Are you ready for phase two, Buttercup?” She asked, slamming a hand on to the table. The record skipped, and it only took one sour look from you to get her to apologise, giving the record player a gentle pat. “Ready and waiting, Captain!” You give her a lazy salute, and are given a determined nod from her before she hurries back to her station. You hear another monotone laugh from beside you, and peer back towards Wally. “Buttercup?” “... Its my code name,” Your cheeks feel red hot, and you reach up instinctively to cover them. He laughs again, and you swear you hear him mumble ‘Adorable.’... But that just can’t be right. Ugh, you can’t afford to be distracted now, no matter how sweet his compliments were!!! You take in a deep breath, and take note of where everyone is on the dance floor. It was time for phase two. Group one had Honey and the Captain herding the target to the center of the dance floor; distracting him with hijinks and pranks and lightening his usual dour mood. They were right on track, and you make a mental note to compliment them on their excellent espionage. Group two was doing even better! Pigeon had lured the bait into the perfect spot, the two of them bounding to the beat almost next to the bonfire, and Howdy gave you a nod from where he stood, ready to swoop in. “Just.. A second… More…” You mumble to yourself, your trigger happy hand sitting above the needle. You’d know where to move on the record even if you were blind and deaf; the trap was only the most beautiful song that the King had made, and you’d get this to go off without a hitch. You’d promised her, after all. Wally squints at you, and only just manages to start asking you what on earth you’re up to when you see it; the signal. Frank’s back is turned to you, and Julie gives you a spastic wave. Not the most subtle, but y’know, it worked. The record scratches. The music stops. Everyone stops dead in their tracks. The Bait and the Target look around with concerned expressions, and Howdy dives from his hiding spot. [♫] Can’t help falling in love - Elvis Presley The music starts back up. The piano is soft. Dancers pair up as if it was planned– even though it totally wasn’t, you swear. Sally grabs Julie, squeezing her girlfriend close and leaving Frank floundering. Poppy is scooped by Howdy in a very, very subtle move that leaves Eddie flushed. You’re on the edge of your seat, squeezing the tablecloth anxiously in your hands. Eddie seems to realise whats happened first, and with a nervous laugh, he turns to Frank, offering a hand. But… Frank hesitates. Your heart stops, and without thinking, you’re gripping Wally’s shirt and sinking back in your chair. Oh, you didn’t think of this happening. What if he blows it? What if he gets mad? Oh, you can’t watch. But you also can’t look away. You feel Wally’s other hand rest on your head, not petting or rubbing, but just resting. Even that kind gesture couldn’t pull you from this train wreck. “OOPS!” Julie to the rescue! She shoves Frank hard with her hip, the puppet stumbling forwards into Eddie’s arms. Yes!! The whole neighbourhood watches with baited breath. Eddie laughs heartily, and takes that as a yes, starting to move backwards to get Frank back on his feet, and leading him in the dance. You can’t contain your excited wiggle. Yes! Mission accomplished!! Julie and Sally each shoot you a wink, and you give them two big thumbs up. Wally is practically in stitches next to you, and wipes a tear from his eye,

“Is this what her big plan was?” He asked, peering over at you quizzically. You laugh, and nod in response. Wally scooches his chair closer to listen as you explain the plan quietly to him. You lean a little closer to him, your arms brushing against each other as you watch the fruits of your labour. The two of them look to be having a serious conversation under their breaths, both with blush tinged cheeks, and tiny smiles across their faces. Absolutely flawless. You take in a deep, calming breath. Wally smells like apples, naturally, along with distinct undertones of… licorice? Haha, weird. It suits him, strangely enough. You wonder briefly what you smell like. Probably latex gloves? How disappointing. You wish that there was a nice smell that late nights at the observatory could give you, aside from graphite and notebook pages. “Weird,” You mumble under your breath, eliciting a questioning noise from Wally. “Oh. Well, the lights can make it hard to see the stars, but… Ah, it must be a new moon. Silly me.” Wally stiffens next to you, but you don’t have time to question it before you’re scooped up unwillingly into another puppets arms. [♫] A Big Hunk O’ Love - Elvis Presley “C’mere, you!” Barnaby sets you gingerly on one of his arms, lifting you out to the dance floor and the giggles erupt from you, no matter how hard you’re trying to hold them back with the nervous hands over your face. “You didn’t think you’d get to just sit there all night, did’ja??? Time to boogie!” His laugh was deep and you could feel it through his arm, him not even bothering to put you down before he started shaking his booty to the new song. You can’t! It’d be too embarrassing! You can’t see them, but there are definitely eyes on you. No… Noooo! The boogie, alas, was too infectious for your weak heart, and you felt the wiggles overtake you in Barnaby’s arms. Your shoulder dance seems to be the secret key to him putting you down, and he gives you courage in the form of a hand held and a big grin on his face. Can’t say no to that face, or the king’s bouncy tones, for very long at all. Before you realise what's happening, you’re swinging to the music, and the idea of embarrassing yourself has floated somewhere into the upper atmosphere. Maybe you’d find that fear again one night while stargazing, floating through the stars where no one can hear it. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Wally relaxes through the next few songs, leaning back in his folding chair and taking the occasional unseen bite from the remaining sandwich on the plate. Barnaby was right, of course, he was going to be sore in the morning. Maybe for a few mornings after that, too. Something about the reckless abandon with which you took to the dance floor, though… He couldn’t take his eyes off it for more than a moment. You look so, SO unbelievably silly. Like you’d practiced these spastic wiggles a million times before. He leaned forwards, setting his head dreamily in his hands. Ha ha ha… Was that an air guitar he saw? “Absolutely… Adorable.” He drolls, and his brain takes a quick halt. Adorable. It wasn’t the first time he’d said this about you, not even tonight. And it's not like he didn’t compliment his other friends… A pang shook through his chest, and he clutched the front of his shirt… No, something about this was different… And something about your questioning gaze earlier… This was oh, so dangerous for him. So why hadn’t he stopped you yet? There were countless ways, methods he’d used before, methods he’d use again… Maybe you just needed… More distraction. Right; that was the problem. Well, that much he could do without arousing too much suspicion. He unbuttoned his top button, and smoothed his perfect hair, and stood up. If there was one thing Wally Darling could do, it was dance. With a pop of his collar, he strode on, ready to show these kids a thing or two. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● [♫] Devil in Disguise - Elvis Presley You’d been tossed between a few eager partners at this point, including but not limited to: A dance with Julie in which you’d mostly just shook your hair, a brief exchange with Eddie Dear, who’d thanked you under his breath while staring across at a certain someone, and a wild dance with Poppy who shook her feathers in ways you hadn’t even imagined before. This latest one was graced with Howdy, and you’d made a comment about how you needed to run an experiment to see if your hypothesis was correct; more limbs DEFINITELY made for more fun in a dance partner! You had him almost completely hysterical when something stole his attention away. Apparently it was someone cutting in, and you’re shocked when one of your arms is pulled upwards, giving you a spin and a dip. Wally Darling grins down at you, and you melt in an instant. Whoa. He gives one of his slow, droning laughs and pulls you back up, leading you with both of your arms now, swaying you quickly back and forth with the bouncing melody. It was as if he was shaped perfectly by the gods to swing it to Elvis. He switches from a slower portion of the song, swaying back and forth with you, to effortlessly spinning you out and then back in, your hand landing smack dab in the middle of his chest. You felt like your brain was going to pop. He lands the finishing blow perfectly, and as the song ends, he bonks his forehead against your own, staring in to your eyes briefly before stepping back. He pats you on the shoulder and moves on to his next victim; leaving you standing there as if nothing had ever happened. Your hands fly up to hide your red hot face. Uuuugh! You deserve a good sit down after that. (A/N: I was asked to tag @elegantkidfansoul with the update! If you’d also like to be tagged, feel free to let me know! ^v^ This update was a little long, but it was so fun to write eeee!!!)

[hunterbunter3000]

sweetheart collects little trinkets she finds on the field and around base (sometimes steals things she likes, nothing big) to gives to the boys (and laswell), the boys treat them like collectibles and get pissy when someone tries to take them. they often show them off to each other to see what they have. the trinkets range from rocks/stones/pebbles, small keychain accessories, flowers etc. to bullet shells, bones, teeth??? etc.

sometimes they get handmade trinkets (where sweetheart makes something outta the trinkets she finds) price has a handmade fishhook made outta a broken safety pin, massive metallic bead and a metal feather earring stud,he put it on his hat and gets all happy when someone mentions it, soap got a bracelet made outta random beads and some string (maybe some bone), gaz has a pin made outta a bottle cap that she got from a night of drinking, the bottle cap is from gaz’ a fav alcohol drink, ghost got bones in a jar with a little skull ornament on the side, the list can go on, they are all impressed by her craftsmanship but are heavily concerned where she gets the more morbid and obscene materials from

the boys will defend their trinkets with their life and refuse to trade (St, gave me it, fuck off and get your own)

IM KICKING MY FEET RNNNN THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😍😍😭😭💖💕 I love how everyone came together and said "Yeah Sweetheart is a weird goblin and we love her" LMAOOO

May I add on to the trinkets just a bit--

The kleptomaniac collector and scavenger of things will find the best items on the battlefield istg-- everytime she kills the enemy, she always picks on their gear and scavenges around to find anything she likes. Soap and Roach honestly help her find things (like a coin with a bullet hole in it, or a finger. Maybe an ear or an antique cup from an abandoned home) and give to her so she can make something out of it

She gets so excited when she finds old flasks because she can fix em and give them to Cap or Graves (as much as she hates him, she always thinks of him) and she gets SUPER excited when Krueger comes back to the base after being out of the country and gives her rare findings (like a crystal bowl or an old pocket watch! He did steal a real diamond before for her, that was a fun day HA)

Laswell honestly looks forward to her crafts because her wife loves them (I have a headcannon that Laswell and her wife have emotionally adopted Sweetheart AHAHA) Sometimes her wife would give Laswell rocks and feathers that she found at home so Laswell can give it to Sweetheart (she's so giddy everytime)

Once the week is almost over, they have SSS (Sweetheart Scavenger Sundays) and the guys show what they have LOL Horangi would even FaceTime Rodolfo and Alejandro to show off what Sweetheart sent them (Alejandro has a necklace that's laced with silver and gold teeth and human finger bones, a handmade knife sheath made out of rabbit skin, and a tiny house made out of tank metal. Rodolfo has a carved wooden bunny, a lucky gecko tail key chain, and a pouch full of silver coins)

They love all of her gifts, even though they're weird and sketchy as fuck, but it's thoughtful! And don't touch them or ask to have it or they will give you the side eye

[ppeasants]

Hey so I ended up making a good amount of Headcanons for the Rito in Wind Waker, and I wanted to share them with y'all.

This came about while writing for my Wind fic focusing on the obscene amount of father figures he has (check it out here). This chapter was focused on Quill, and while I was developing their relationship, I ended up developing a decent amount of internal lore for the Rito, and I couldn't fit them all in the fic

So, I'm putting them so people can see it, and if people like em, they can hopefully use it for themselves, or expand on them, or just tell me what their own HCs are, or what they would change. I love the Rito, especially Wind Waker's, and I had so much fun doing this.

Just a quick disclaimer, I am not any sort of anthropologist, or linguist, or anything, so if I disrespect any real-world race or culture with this, I am really sorry. Please let me know if I misrepresent something so I can learn from it and change whatever is wrong.

HCs under the cut:

Tribe

It's all but confirmed that the Rito were evolved from the Zora, who were forced to evolve due to the unlivable water of the Great Flood. This colours a lot my headcanons about the Rio's values, traditions, and relations.

It is hard for the Rito to call any one place their home, since they lost theirs in the flood.

Their flight is important to them threefold: It's the gift theyr were given by Valoo in order to survive the flood, it gives them the freedom to explore around when they feel the loss of their home, and it's the closest thing they have to the freedom of swimming.

It's why the sky, their flight, and Valoo is all so important ot them.

Their connection to Valoo is why they call Dragon Roost home, although to them, it's more like a common hub, or home base. Most Rito don't actually have a set home, instead they travel around between place to place. It's why the Rito as delivery workers works so well for them.

Along with losing their home, the Rito also lost a lot of their culture. This causes them to be very protective of what they have now, rarely letting others take part in their actual traditions.

It's why Link (Wind) being a part of their family is such a big deal; hes one of the only Hylians to actually be accepted as a Rito¹ (the idea of Link being a Rito will come up later)

As a part of their culture and their worship of the sky as their new freedom, they revere Zephos and Cyclos, even more than sailor of the Great Sea do. A lot of their rituals focus on the Wind Gods.

They have always worshiped Zephos, but Cyclos was lost to time. When they were reminded of his existence, they were horrified that they might have lost more of their culture, but were quick to reinstate Cyclos as a deity, and they do celebrate him now.

Relations

To the Rito as a Tribe, relations to each other are everything. Everyone who is a Rito is connected on some way to the other Rito.

You are defined by your connections to the other Rito. Unless you're the ruler of the Rito, then you are your connections.

You are your mother's daughter - you are the fathger of your son - you are best friend, the partner, the beloved, and they are yours.

As relationships are the biggest way to define who you are as a Rito, it is possible for people who were not born as Rito to be a part of the tribe. There are very few non-species Rito, as they are protective of their identity, but it is possible.

¹This is why Link (Wind) is a Rito. He is defined by his relationships to the Rito: specifically Quill, Medli, and Komali. He is Quill's beloved, and Quill is Link's guardian. He is Medli's mentor, and she is his sage. He is Komali's chosen, and Komali is his partner (komalink truthers rise up).

Feathers are important in defining those relationships. If you are close enough to be defined by a relationship, then you given a feather from the other to keep those relationships.

Most Rito would weave those feathers into their wings, although they would be placed in a way that they could get removed easily. Most Rito only wear their feathers during formal events or festivals, although some wear them at all times.

In Link's case, he has 3 feathers, one from Quill, Medli, and Komali. Link has two feather sets - one which is a loose set of feathers he can braid into his hair, and one in a solid set of 3 which he can place behind his ear.

Language

I did not come up with a full language for the Rito. What I did develop was a base which to base the Rito language off of , and a way to buid off of it in the future as necessary.

One major thing is that the language isn't a full language, for every single word. Another thing they lost in the flood was their language, only bits and pieces of it remaining as they evolved.

What was left was a descriptive language; where words are used to describe larger concepts.

Speaking and Writing in Rito involves using Rito Language and Common/Hylian simultaneously, using words from both to describe full sentences.

The Rito Language itself is a Agglutinative Language. What that means, is that words are formed by merging syllaybles, where every syllable has a unique meaning, and the combinations of syllables make words which are defined by the syllables meanings.

Words tend not to have direct Common/Hylian translations; instead syllables have meanings, and their relationships to each other define concepts.

Concepts and words tend not to exist until invented; they are all based on the same syllables which all share meanings, or different combinations arte invented when needed, and understood when told.

As an example, I'll share the two invented words in my fic - Towaki and Towaveh - divided in syllables as: To, Wa, Ki, and Veh.

To: shortening of Rito

Wa: Love (non-superficial)

Ki: Mine (ownership)

Veh: Theirs (ownership)

Towaki: They are my beloved.

Towaveh: I am their beloved.

Festivals

The two biggest celebrations in Rito Culture are Ballad's Day and Requiems's Day, named after the Wind's Requiem and the Ballad of Gales. The two celebrations are six months apart, and each happen once a year.

Ballad's Day celebrates Cyclos, and Requiem's Day celebrates Zephos. Both festivals consist of three phases.

The first phase is meant for Valoo's attendant and the current Rito ruler. The two ascend Dragon Roost Island and request a scale from Valoo, to give to the Wind Gods in offering.

The second phase has Valoo's attendant, and the upcoming ruler (if one is not born, the current ruler) partaking in a ritual involving a performance of either the Wind's Requiem or the Ballad of Gales to offer the scale to the celebrated deity to ask for favourable winds n front of all of the gathered Rito² (There is nuance as to who is currently involved during Wind Waker's time, which I will explain later)

The third phase is a celebration: Every Rito who can make it for the festivals gather for a large feast. More than the second phase, this is Zephos and Cyclos' favourite part, as it makes them happy to see their worshippers happy.

These two days are some of the only days where almost every Rito comes back to Dragon Roost. These days are the best times to catch up with the various other Rito, as it's the only times all of the Rito see each other.

This aspect of the festival is just as important as the offering to the deities, since their relations to each other are so important, and their need to travel makes it so they can;t see each other often.

²In the Wind Waker's time, the people who participate in the ritual are Komali, Medli, and Link. Komali and Medli are a given, as they're the upcoming ruler and current attendant, but Medli is also the Wind Sage. Her music is powerful magically, and even more so when conducted by Link.

Link's inclusion on the ritual is threefold. He is partially a mentor for Medli, and will help her with her part in the ritual. He is Komali's chosen (komalink truthers rise up), so he is also connected to the upcoming ruler. He is the Hero of Winds, and they are the Wind Gods. Although he wasn't destined to be one from Hylia, he was chosen by Zephos and accepted by Cyclos.

His relations to the Rito involved and the gods make him an important part of the ritual. For Cyclos, he also just wants Link specifically to be there, as he is the one who brought the deity back into the Rito's ritual. Zephos is okay if Link misses the ritual, Cyclos basically requires it.

That's all I have for now! Lemme know what y'all think, if it's good, if this makes sense, or what other HCs y'all have! I love the Rito and would just love to talk more about them!

<3

(also check out my fic here hehe).

[mimble-sparklepudding]

A Humble Gift

In response to this post from @bramrulian and also the attention of @qxynalvaleroyantb.

A small dark grey leather sack arrives.

Although plain, it is clearly expertly made, with a small "H" embossed into the soft (possibly marid?) leather. It is tied, somewhat incongruously, with a ribbon of pale pink silk.

Inside are three items, each wrapped in crinkled red paper. Although "wrapped" might be something of an exaggeration, as they appear to have been more rolled up in the paper and then bound inexpertly with twine.

The first is a small silver pot, embossed with a motif of orchids and complete with a small applicator stick of scented wood. Inside is a quantity of chalky, pale purple, kohl.

The second is a somewhat overlarge quill, formed from an enormous bronze feather, finished with an exquisite silver filigree nib, decorated with tiny blue gems.

The last is a large spool of silvery white silk thread, that seems to almost glow in the candlelight, as it it were spun from moonlight. Attached is a small, but elegant, silver needle.

There is a short letter attached. The paper it is written on is clearly of high quality Doman-make, but the text itself is smudged and there are many words scribbled out and reattempted. In some cases multiple times. Despite this, there are a number of spelling mistakes, even within the brief text.

Deer Ser Bram,

I has desided to spontayneosly send you and ur fellas some things that I has made when I am in the Eest [this is followed by what appears to be a lopsided picture of winking bearded face].

There are 3 of em. One be coal, but for puttin on ur face to look pretty and that. I made u a nice pot for it. The other one be a writing feather what I cut off a [there are a large number of crossings out here, where some valiant attempts appear to have been made to write the word "sotormurg", before giving up]... big bastard bird for Ser Rulyanne. I have put the silver bit on the pointy end for writin and such. The other other one be sum fred I buyed from the fibers place in Radsatan, but I did make the needul for Ser Zynull with my own fare hands, as they says.

Urs Humble

Pe Ess sory for the spellin and that.

[arisenreborn]

5 Character Associations - Emrys

EMOTIONS/FEELINGS:

Spite, contempt. Wrong. Everything about him is 'wrong', and he knows it best of all. He hates it, he loves it, he can't do a damned thing about it. There's a deep wound in his heart and spirit that have left him rotting within.

Hopeless. Fear. Everywhere he looks there's no escape from his fate, it's an endless wheel of servitude and torment, truly.

Defiance, rebellious. Yet despite all that, and as a result of all of that, there's a flicker of willful defiance that rails against everything that 'is'. It's so small, yet it slips through the cracks wherever it can.

Hedonist. It's easier to sink into the things that 'feel good'. Drink, sex, or even just wandering the wilds - the things he enjoys, without anyone telling him so. (And yet, he only reached for those things because they were the things others reached for first...)

Simple. A mask that slips beneath the surface. It's so easy to go with the flow, after all, to follow the course of the unending cycle. You could even be happy here, like this, if you let yourself believe it.

Bonus - Impertinent, sassy, particularly and openly with Olivia, but extremely veiled with others. She lets him get away with it for the most part because she thinks he isn't entirely wrong to feel that way and can even relate to some degree, but when he starts to get Mean about it she gets right back at him. (He's kind of like a teenager in this respect, testing boundaries, but he ought to know better.)

Bonus - Shame. A trembling self-loathing and disgust.

COLOURS:

rusty red

faded gold

earthy browns

bruise purple

dragonsplague red

SCENTS:

At any given time, simply, "the outdoors"; campfires, wood, and trees, soil, damp leaves, moss, and dew in the morning, fresh air - as well as the vague scent of blood, sweat, and rot.

A wisp of whatever perfume that bordelrie worker was wearing.

Leather, new and old.

"Crisp and clean" when in the city, experiments with all sorts of different soaps and bath salts (on Olivia's coin).

The smell before it rains - before astorm.

OBJECTS:

Fox mask - a gift from Olivia when she requested he join her to several masquerades.

A very old dagger, it couldn't possibly be useful anymore...

"Lucky" rabbits foot, he understands the irony, that's why he has it.

Onyx - He picked it up at the Excavation Site, and holds onto it, he says, in case he needs emergency funds, but there seems to be an additional touch of bitter sentiment to it.

Collection of 'badges'; identifiers of several different mercenary and thief groups and similar such he's worked with in the past. Claims he holds onto them in case he needs them again...

Bonus: Bordelrie Membership Card... (he received it from a mercenary buddy)

BODY LANGUAGE:

Lax, slightly slouched, giving an overall sense of capriciousness (or perhaps laziness) and approachability.

Sleepy, half-lidded eyes, big big yawns. Often lethargic (bored?) when not actively engaged.

Moves with confidence, be it in his stride, shot, or swing of the blade. He makes it look easy and effortless because he's been doing it for so long. (Actually you could put in a little effort, Em...)

Laying sprawled out at camp, arms folded behind his head against his bed roll, legs stretched out in front of him crossed at the ankles. Entirely relaxed, surrounded by the sounds of nature.

(High Perception Requirements) When no one is looking - rolling of the eyes, irritated head shakes, silent sighs where his whole body slouches in exasperation.

AESTHETICS:

the forest; the wilds, the roads that cut through it, the ambling deer paths and light dancing through the boughs

furs, leathers, bones and fangs - living off the land and making careful use of everything

bustling streets and taverns filled with shouts and laughter, a place where it's easy to fit in and be one with the crowd without anyone noticing

[wild animal] caught in a trap

bow & arrow, feathers - stripped from their purpose and made into fletching

SONGS:

Michael Bublé - Feeling Good

Hozier - In The Woods Somewhere

The Arcadian Wild - Liar

The Amazing Devil - The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace

Placebo - Running Up That Hill

[twobirdsflytogether]

Bagi and Baghera chainsawing each other, Bagi calling for Jaiden when she was alone and scared, Tina and Bagi getting engaged.

Last day was a pancake polycube win for me. Wouldn't be a interisting dynamic if like Bagi and Tina are the only one getting married because they are both the only ones that believe in marriage as a institution? But like, everything in the wedding has something about the other girls. Tina and Bagi use blue and golden feathers in their clothes, there are crowns in most of the weeding decorations, as well as cat motifies.

(Of course, Em is the flower girl)

First dance was not even them, Richas dragged Mouse to the dance floor, he danced putting his feet on Mouse's.

Anon- anon i could kiss you /j

But seriously, yeah. Last day was some Bagina/teaduo wins, pancake polycule wins, lovebird wins, just all around yuri wins (this statement is said with hints of delusions)

For their wedding, their other partners are part of the bridesmaids/groomsmen.

Fair warning I just woke up and am spouting random things

Their 'bestmen' however are Cellbit(Bagi) and Foolish(Tina), Bagi almost went with Bbh as bestman but decided to have him sit upfront as a compromise.

Em, Lullah, and Pomme are flower eggs, walking in a triangle (Em in the center 'leading' them, with Lullah and Pomme following) then stand with their moms(or Lullahs case, her godmother)

Richas and Leo carry the rings up, then stand on either side of the now marrying couple.

Dapper sitting with Bad, and got inventive for the 'dove release' with a stange mix of different exotic birds that they just have for some reason.

Chay sittinf with Phil and Missa, but during the party literally forced everyone to get the fuck out the kitchen cause they kept burning stuff so he'll just take over.

Pepito is simply being baby™ and sitting with Pepito's parents.

And Ramon is happily sitting between Fit and Pac.

Obviously RadioEgg playing during the party for at least a few songs.

Cucurucho shows up at somepoint, silently dropping off a gift and leaving, talking breifly to Jaiden simply giving congratulations to her partners union.

[c9kefestation]

Heyo!! :3!

Heard you had some Penguin Band hcs, care to share what they are? The Penguin Band is so coolness

OMG I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS QUESTION THIS EARLY AAAAAAAAAAA /POS

even though im very happy to be sharing them im also very nervous aswell. i was rlly overthinking my hcs how to word them, which ones to add cuz there are a lot of micro ones, throughout my time writing this, hence why it took me so long to respond. however i think its just best to kinda bite the bullet cuz youll never know how ppl will feel ab them if u dont talk ab them.

tried to keep these hcs more generalized and keep some of the more basic ones, alongside throwing in some more fun ones. any details or other hcs that arent here will prob show up in future content

with all that being said, pls let me know if any of these hcs stray way too far from the canon or come off as wrong or offensive

LETS START!

Franky:

Trans! (love how this is a universal hc in the fandom lmao) he/him

Dyslexic, Stompin' Bob is mainly the one who lends him a helping hand when he's having a hard time

When he's stressed or nervous he'll pick at the feathers on his flippers (kinda like picking at nails/skin)

He can be very self conscious about his appearance/body (this was especially heavy during his first years in the band). Ofc his bandmates and Cadence are always there to reassure him and comfort him whenever it bothers him

His main love language/way of showing affection is words of affection, correlating to the previous hc

He's a big mamas boy TEEHEE

He loves snacks (especially limited edition ones) and freshly cut fruit

Petey K:

Trans aswell! he/they

ADHD

When in thought, heavily stressed or nervous, he'll bite his flipper(s) or the inside of his mouth.

His love language is gift giving and physical affection (cuddles and such)!

When they stick with their band, he'll usually stand pretty close behind one of them or hold onto their shoulder so as to kinda ground himself.

He REALLY hates seaweed, he finds it overstimulating and disgusting

He usually has a sensitive stomach, although he can be a bit careless with this at times, he tries his best to be wary of what he eats and drinks

They're very crafty and artsy. A lot of their gifts are handmade!

Although this kinda doesnt match up with his outfit, he likes to wear long sleeved shirts

He's near-sighted. Even though they have myopia glasses they always stick to using contact lenses

G Billy:

Gay and/or MLM, he/him

Neurodivergent

When he's very stressed or overstimulated, he'll hit his head or squint his eyes heavily

His love language is acts of service, he's more of a man of action, mainly he cooks for his friends, memorizes their favorite meals, or brings them stuff when they need them

He and Cadence are step siblings! Him being the oldest (his dad and her mom being their parents)

Unlike Petey, he really likes seaweed! So if Petey ever has seaweed on their plate, they throw it over to him

He's camera shy! He's more comfortable in photos when he's with his friends or family, but paparazzi type situations can really stress him out

Although he does like to party, he tends to stay a bit reserved and cautious

and finally...Stompin' Bob:

Either Bisexual or a Straight Ally, he/him

He has two moms and 3 siblings

When in thought,anxious,stressed he'll twirl his hair or pull it

His love languages are words of affection and gift giving? he basically writes poems and cards and gives them as gifts or he sends articles to his friends abt smth he overheard them saying they liked

He has the biggest passion for music and can get very serious with it, often overworking himself and staying up to make songs

He's the most hot-headed and defensive, either over his passions, friends and family, it's not that he's mean, it's just that he cares a lot

He's far-sighted so he uses reading glasses.

And i think ill end it here for now, ik theyre kinda messy but i tried my best to give a fulfilling answer. Hope you like 'em! And ty for asking op!

Edit: ALMOST FORGOT 2 HCS FOR SB AND PK </3 they're there now

[stellar-snz]

can you do a prompt for Sunday or aventurine? ^_^ been obsessed with these two lately hehe

Ofc!! I added some headcanons for 'em, so I hope you don't mind :33 Thank you so much for the request, I hope you like these <33

Aventurine

✦ Not gonna lie... but the feathers in his earring gives me so many ideas. Because of that, I headcanon him as someone who's allergic to feathers.

✦ Flowers too. He despises getting flowers as gifts since they make him sneeze himself dizzy. ✦ He's mildly allergic to some scents. There have been occasions where he tries to show off his status and wealth by buying a very expensive perfume, only to regret it later because it's bothering his nose.

✦ When sick, he's very stubborn at admitting it, sometimes even requiring the other party to "prove" that he's sick before he finally admits it.

✦ One prompt I wrote with him in mind is "Aventurine being captured by someone who wants information out of him. That person doesn't know what to do to get Aventurine to talk, but then... he notices the feathers on his earring and uses it against him." ✦ Another prompt I made was "Aventurine hiding illness, and the person he's meeting getting fed up with it, so that person makes a bet with Aventurine. If he sneezes even once during the meeting, Aventurine will have to admit he's sick." (This was actually a prompt I used in one of @rachwavs' [sorry for the tag] streams)

Sunday

✦ Honestly... feather allergy too. It's even funnier considering that he has head wings too. ✦ I'd definitely agree that he would use his head wings to cover his nose when he sneezes when his hands are busy. It has made him sneeze a couple more times, though...

✦ He tends to overwork himself and gets sick as a result. Though he tries to push through his illness, given his status... a little part of him feels happy when someone points it out and tells him to go back home and rest until he's better. He just wants a break fr 😭

✦ A bit of a control freak, so he definitely stifles/hides his sneezes when making a public appearance. ✦ Anyways, a prompt I had for him is "Sunday stressed out with planning and organizing the Charmony festival and doing his best to ensure it goes without a hitch. Unfortunately, the florist assigned to take care of the flower arrangements ran out of stock of the flower that was supposed to be used. In a haste, Sunday tells the florist "any replacement will do" which ends up to be a mistake since when he does the final checking before the festival, the flowers chosen are ones he's allergic to" ✦ Alternatively, Sunday working himself to the ground due to the preparations needed by the Charmony festival and when the day comes to enjoy the fruit of his labor, he can't... since he ended up sick on the day of it.

[t34-mt]

hiya!! I absolutely love your stuff, I was just curious is there more info on morang and kapone’s relationship? Just small facts or anything, I think they are a sweet pair to see :^D like em a lot

thank you!! i like them too :] I could mention about how they meet first

morang and kapone meet as adults in GA time period, during organised events between kyhuine and maanuls colonies. Where the goal is to exchange several willing members of respective colony with the other. Essentially at opposite species colony the exchanged members just learns the others culture and the way of living of their bigger/smaller cousins. One of the several tactics colonies agreed upon to introduce one another, exchanged members would be taken in charge by chosen community "teachers" from the colony they're staying at (person who takes in charge is fluent in the language of opposite species).

You could almost say its like summer camps, they'd stay there for a month or more, come back home to talk about how pleasant it was and how different they are. Some would sometimes come back to give news to family but still travel back because they've fallen in love with the practices, culture, all the differences and so on. Or because they've found a partner there, and they decided to live at the other's place. Because, yes while GA starts with war and ends with it, not every colony were under the two war faction controls and others were lucky to be able to function the way they wanted, and said colonies who were free would then do stuff like the colony member exchanges i mentioned, to learn and understand this new species they've learned about at the end of AOS. BUT im babbling now, back to morang kapone, this was for context

Morang and ak'laam, whos previously studied kyhuine language volunteered to be part of the group that will welcome and guide exchanged kyhuine members coming to their colony, morang was in charge of kapone and that's how they first meet. While the person in charge of 1-3 people does most of the work, welcoming kyhuines/maanuls into colony is something every members should take part on, offering gifts and being overall nice. But yeah, morang teacher her culture (western maanul in this case), her food, her language, showed ceremonies,shared songs, thought her the animals, the way maanuls preach the ocean and the religious myths surrounding it and how the weather is vastly different. Essentially they bond and get closer during this moments, and while she would've loved to teach kapone how to swim so she could show her the wonders of the reefs near home, kapone is a kyhuine, and they hate the feeling of being wet and plus they dont have an oil gland that they can coat their feathers with, so when wet kyhuines are soaking and heavy. they're from desert so they never experienced being in water before.

In return kapone would help her with accent when speaking in her language, cause yes fun fact morang's language when speaking kyhuine language sucks a bit, but ak'laam quite fluent. She'd describe how home was like for her, eventually when kapone goes back to home colony morang goes with her because she wants to see kyhuine life and habitats. Like morang did, kapone nows the one who teach her and bring her to ceremonies and events in colony to show her.

They end up visiting each other's place frequently, usually staying several weeks or months at one's colony. Firstly for expanding their knowledge and view of world, then they'd do it just because they wanted to see each other's. I'd say, 2 or 3 years after they've meet is when they became romantic mates, but yeah that's in short how they meet.

Did one move out to the other's place permanently? Not really, morang says her heart belongs at sea so she never permanently moved to be where kapone originates from. Both just spend time at each other's place alot but they never move out forever, tho kapone stays at morang's place the most but she regularly visits her home family.

Even on the discussion of burial they won't be togheter at death (first off cause kyhuines live longer) and because they agreed that morang will have the traditional maanul burial at sea (about burials, I'd suggest to not go read the old ask answer because I'd like to publish an updated text about it soon), and kapone will be burned after death. They agreed on having memorial wall paintings of them togheter to celebrate the time they had with those temporary vessels, while death can be scary it's not the end to them since they believe that they'll find each other's in every next lives, every time their respective diety will give them a new vessel to explore the world again, whenever that would be as a plant or any animal, they'll find each other's each time without even knowing.

Fun fact, since maanul and kyhuine size differences is quite big, in the home of kapone (which is quite narrow) morang's head would rub against the ceiling so she'd move around all crunched down head low

[avatar-saiki]

Mammon's Valentine's Day

A new pair of kicks in just the right size?

Check.

A new jacket to keep the chill away while still looking stylish?

Check.

Matching earrings and wristwatches and diamond studded rings?

Check, check, and check~

“Oo this is gonna be so good,” he said under his breath, flipping through racks at Majolish for just the right style. Mm… what would flatter your figure more? What would make that confidence shine?

“Perfect. Goldie, don’t fail me now.”

He had to pay extra to get it all gift wrapped, but everything looked so good! Now he just had to make it home and keep everything hidden until the big day. 

Ugh, but buying gifts early was the worst! Every time he saw you he wanted to spill. Wanted to show you. Wanted to bask in your delight and praises after picking out each and every thing so meticulously. 

And then… finally.

Finally.

Today was the day. 

“You look like you’re about to explode,” Asmo teased, “you okay?”

“M’great!” He said, looking around. “D’you know where they went? I haven’t been able to find ‘em all day.”

“Mm… I saw them around a little while ago, but-“

He grabbed Asmo, “Where?!”

“E-easy! You’re going to wrinkle my shirt!” 

“Oh, right. My bad.” He let him go, feeling… fidgety. “So where are they?”

“Oh I have no idea, they went off with Satan somewhere.”

“What?”

“Just the two of them too… I wonder if it was a date?”

“WHAT?!”

“Hey where are you-“

You were on a date with Satan? Why? When? How? Where?

Did you forget what day it was today? 

Did you forget…

He shook his head and took out his cards, throwing them up into the sky as they burst into feathers. 

Find them. 

He closed his eyes, silently ordering his crows to follow his wants. 

Please. 

Just…

Find them.

Minutes passed before a triumphant caw sounded above, Queenie circling to signal her master. 

“That’s my girl,” he said, grinning up at her. “Show me where.”

She led him deep into the heart of Devildom City where couplings of demons meandered about, cooing and nuzzling as the night’s festivities dragged on. 

He… 

Maybe he didn’t want to see this… if you really were on a date with Satan…

He was… feeling a little sick. 

He whistled to call Queenie back, she could complain at him later, but right now he-

“Mammon?”

He froze. 

Fuck. 

“What’re you doing here?”

He turned on his heel, playing it cool. “O-oh hey, Satan. I wasn’t doin’ much just uh, playing with Queenie a bit…”

o sign of you around, just Satan looking confused. 

“Is that… so. Well, I’m glad you’re taking care of your familiars.”

“Y-yeah,” he glanced away. “What ah, what’re you doing?”

“Mammon?”

His heart squeezed and he looked again to see you stopping just beside Satan. “Where’d you come from?”

You were standing so close…

“N-nowhere. I was uh, I was just uh..”

“Wait, hold on.” You stepped forward, “I almost forgot, it’s Valentine’s Day, right?”

“Was that today?” He tried to play dumb. “Oh yeah I guess it was.”

You grinned and reached into your pocket. “I got something for you. Hold out your hand.”

Something for him? And you were going to give it to him in front of Satan? On your date?

“Oh, you didn’t have to-“

You dropped a small coin pouch in his palm, and his heart sank. 

It wasn’t chocolate. 

You beamed. “I worked some extra shifts last week for extra cash. You should see if you can double it at the casino tonight!”

“I… oh… yeah I guess I…”

“Actually I bet you could triple no- uh, Satan what’s more than triple?”

“Quadruple?”

“Yeah! I bet you could quadruple that easy! Nothing’s impossible for the Great Mammon, right?”

“Y…yeah,” he gripped the pouch tight. “I could do that no problem…”

“Great!” You stepped back to join Satan again, “take that and show off just how great the Avatar of Greed can be!”

“S…sure.” He said quietly, unable to focus on anything else other than the view of you and Satan walking away. 

This… wasn’t what he wanted… not at all.

But he didn’t want to disappoint you either…

He sighed and put the coins in his pocket and wandered off toward the casino. If nothing else, at least money didn’t let him down. 

But he sure as hell let himself down.

He lost everything you gave so quickly that night. He was such a failure. He couldn’t even focus or call any bluffs right. What the hell was he doing? Why was he getting so hung up on what some human was up to?

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered to himself, walking home alone and dejected. Buying you things only got him so close, but it hadn’t been enough. 

Would it ever be enough?

The house was quiet, everyone long since gone to bed, and he tiptoed to his room and opened the door. When he flipped on the light, you jumped up from the couch. 

“Surprise!”

Startled, he scrambled back and stared. “I- what- what’re you doin in my room?!”

“Oh like you don’t bust into mine all the time.”

“Th-that’s different!”

“Is it?” You teased, putting your hands on your hips with pride. 

“Well yeah ‘cause I only do that when I…” he looked around, his room was…

Different. 

Hellfire rose petals scattered across his bed. Streamers decorated his walls. A huge chocolate heart was set in the middle of his coffee table with gifts piled high all around it. 

“What’s… what’s all this?” He asked. 

You smiled and walked around him, spinning around with your arms outspread to gesture to your handiwork. “Took me a while but I think I did pretty good, don’t you?”

“I…”

You stopped before him, eyes sparkling with delight. “Do you like it?”

“I-I…”

You grinned. “Y’know, for someone so greedy, you sure make it hard to spoil you.”

“I…” his voice cracked, tightness welling up in his throat. “You…”

“Happy Valentine’s d-“

He scooped you up in his arms, hugging you tight just as tears began to burn. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. “So, so much.”

“Aw…” you nuzzled into his neck. 

“I love you too, Mammon.”

“Always.”

[darkspear-dancers]

"What was the best or one of the best gifts you ever got and why?" For each of your main characters!

"This is the first board that Zul ever made for me," Ahuatli said, sprawling out across the surface of the coconut timber surfboard. "Was for our first date, back on the Echo Isles. Nobody had ever made anythin' for me before. Inspired me to do the same, for those closest to me."

Her golden capybara floated lazily alongside her, its snout sniffing above the water's surface. Ahuatli's fingers traced along the edge of the board, sturdy and polished even after so many years of use. "We paddled out to the Isle o' Night... shared our first kiss under the stars." She turned over to her side, a blissful smile as she lost herself to memory.

"So long as I live," Zul'Jawa spoke, a gloved hand reaching out and scratching behind the mighty snow leopard's ears, "I'm sure there's no greater gift the loa could have given me than havin' Azteotl in my life."

The great winter cat chuffed his approval, acting more like a playful kitten than the apex predator he was. "Been by my side for every hunt, every battle... saved my life more times than I can count."

Azteotl lazed about on the clifftop, whisking his long tail around, gently biting on it to muffle his breaths. The Darkspear laughed aloud, jade eyes closing in relaxation. "He's been my best friend... for all the best years o' my life. Here's to many more."

Azae'latl raised the clawed gauntlets above her, inspecting the obsidian blades for any damage, the leather straps for any signs of wear and tear. Zandali glyphs glowed with an ambient jade hue along the decorative visage of a jaguar fashioned into the fist weapons. Her smirk seemed to show her satisfaction.

"The Claws o' Tloque'Rakir," she enunciated, granting the name proper reverence and respect. "The ancient arms o' my Order. Zul'Jawa uncovered them on one o' his archaeological digs. He could have shipped them off to the Chroniclers... instead, he entrusted them to me."

With a series of savage slashes, Azae swiped against the jungle air, rehearsing martial arts strikes reflective of thousandfold repetition. "These gave me purpose, when I needed it most. Couldn't do what I do... be what I be... without 'em."

She winked, before reaching back and donning her quetzal-feathered headdress, enshrouding her own visage from view. "A jaguar ain't nothin' without her claws."

[ Thank you so much, @kharrisdawndancer !! No better way to start out the holiday season than with some writing about the gift-giving that ties my characters together. ]

[isaacapatow]

with @clintbennet | the prom : the roads to addiction converge in redwood

ike apatow: -as much as ike's exhilarated by crowds and parties, everyone needs a breather, and he spots somebody who might need the same thing, making his way over to Clint- Hey there, bayou -- feel like talking a stroll with me to recharge? That corner of the garden's nice. There's little flowers I don't know the name of but they taste good if you eat 'em and nobody's looking.

Clint Bennet: -Brows raise over his cup as he takes a sip and notices Ike approaching him. He laughs into the whiskey at the nickname Ike gave him.- What, yer batteries runnin' low already?  -He teased, lowering the cup and letting it hang from his fingertips at his side as he approached ready to join him. His head cocks at the description of the flower- Is Mayra growin' honeysuckle in there? * -He guessed-*

ike apatow: Beats me. Maybe you can identify it for me. -Ike lifts his chin to point in the direction- These things are fun but I'm a little, ah ... contentious. Sometimes. With some folks.

Clint Bennet: I can try, but I'll probably git it wrong. -He admits, walking beside Ike to their destination. He takes a seat on the edge of one of the raised beds.- Really? -He questions, surprise in his voice.- Hard t'imagine anyone ruffling yer feathers, bossman.

ike apatow: -he tongues at the still-raw bite that Lucien had left on the inside of his bottom lip, tasting the blood there- You'll learn that about me, Clint -- I can piss off even the mildest dove. It's a gift. Maybe a gag gift, but a gift.

Clint Bennet: -He eyes the other noticing the unease about him.-Don't doubt that. I like you, but I can see ya bein' an acquired taste. -another small sip- M'surprise is you bein' bothered, not you botherin' others. Can't imagine anyone gittin' under that skin of yers.

ike apatow: Do I seem that way? Like I don't care what people think?

Clint Bennet: Carin' n' lettin it git t'you are two different things. I think you care, I just didn't think it would cause ya stress. Does it cause you stress?

ike apatow: -regards Clint for a few moments, a slight smile on his lips- I think it does cause me stress, yeah. Any guesses as to why?

Clint Bennet: -Watches the other, his question leaves him perplexed. A million different reasons pass through his mind but none of them seem to fit Ike. He gives a shrug of his shoulders in defeat.- 'm learnin' everythin' I assume about ya couldn't be further from th' truth. Why don't ya just tell me why.

ike apatow: -shrugs back, a little slumped and slow- I dunno, kid. Right now I feel like I can't trust my own perception of myself much.

Clint Bennet: -rests his forearms on his knees, not used to seeing the other man like this, he almost seems defeated in himself. He's not used to seeing this larger than life man so down, Clint's expression becomes serious, brows knit together in concern for the other.- What's yer perception of yerself now?

ike apatow: -a little sharply- I just fucking said I don't ... -he catches himself, with a slightly apologetic twitch of his mouth at Clint- I would drag you to the pond and hold you under for a rail of coke right at this moment.

Clint Bennet: -Lips formed a thin line at Ike's sudden sharp reaction at first but quicky relaxed. Despite his words, Clint didn't take Ike's words personally. In fact he breathed out a small laugh out of his nose at the thought of Ike holding him under the water.- That would be worth more than coke, let's make it horse instead. -He stands- I feel like ya need more space than this, I can't hear shit n' I can still hear th'bass of th'music. Unless y'wanna eat some flowers, do ya wanna go somewhere else... Maybe not near th'lake right now.

ike apatow: -nods, without much opposition- Sure. -his curiosity does spike a little through the other stuff, the prospect of Clint deciding what they should do or where they should go- You have somewheres you wanna take me?

Clint Bennet: -he thinks about it for a moment-Not anyplace in particular. Know that when I need space, walkin' helps, otherwise I feel trapped. Unfortunately our space is a lil limited, but laps exist fer a reason.* -He glances over to the other-* Y'sound like y'got a lot on yer mind. Know in yer past y'were used t'the tables bein  turned, but I wanna help, if ya wanna git it out, I'll listen.

ike apatow: No, I'm ... -gestures vaguely as they start to walk- Not good at just talking. I'm good at answering. I know, that sounds ridiculous, given what I'm like, but it's true.

Clint Bennet: 'snot ridiculous. It makes sense, keeps focus. -He responds before he glances up trying to think of a question to ask, getting right into it might be a little too much, start from the start, the first thing that got him upset in the first place- Y'said there were folks y'weren't gettin' along with. What about 'em is stressin' you out?

ike apatow: -grunts in assent to this, finding it a good question- The fact that they don't bother to do the work in figuring shit out on their own, I guess. Even when I'm the one who got hurt, they're asking me how they should fix things.

Clint Bennet: -he watches and tries to process Ike's words- So, yer frustrated with them. 's more work on you havin' t'solve the problem they caused, yer feein' lik y'gotta think through that instead of them bein' able t'figure it out n'  think things through. Does it feel like a burden?

ike apatow: Yeah. It feels like a burden and I don't think a lot of people understand how many burdens I got strapped on me at any given time. -gives Clint a cockeyed grin, though it's weary- I make it all look easy.

Clint Bennet: -gives a sad but understanding nod to the other. It makes sense, even he fell into that category with the man.- Y'got a ton on yer plate, riskin life 'n limb fer some canned goods, medicine, things th' community needs fer survival, n'keepin' the other raiders safe. -He confirms- Do y'think you gotta make it all look easy? Fer th'sake of others?

ike apatow: -shakes his head slightly- I think you got a calling in this. Ever think about it? Counselling? -but he can't stall too long and goes back to it, hemming and hawing- It's best if people don't know how hard it is, and what we risk out there. I know everyone's aware of the danger but I don't know how much they'd want us doing what we do if they had a full awareness of what it takes. -grins, of the shit-eating variety- Except me. There's plenty of people here don't care how much I take a lickin'.

Clint Bennet: -he huffs out a laugh, giving his own shake of his head.- Naw, don't think I'm even keeled enough fer that. But you, I think you n' I have enough in common t'understand each other. It's too easy fer us t'get stuck in our own heads. -He stops, watching the other carefully to try and actively catch every word that passes his lips-  Protecting them from th'risks you n' th'others take every time y'go out fer supplies. -Clint might have been more familiar with it than most, working outside security and being on the other side of those walls for so long, he could see how others would lose perspective- Aren't there also plenty a' people that do care when y'get hurt?

ike apatow: Some. I'm not discounting them. They mean a lot to me. -he gnaws on the inside of his bottom lip, inadvertently reopening the marks of Lucien's teeth- Sometimes I think I'm not meant to be here. I don't mean that in, uh, a self-pitying way, or like I'm thinking of offing myself, it's just ... I have misshapen edges. Heroin always smoothed those for me. -eyes Clint for a minute- Y'know what I mean? You know what I mean.

Clint Bennet: I know what you mean... -Clint confirms simply, Ike's words hitting deep within his chest- I don't know how things were fer you... But I remember wanting every hit t'be my last... N' not in th'gettin' clean way either... I wanted t'go out feelin' at peace in whatever form that came, but th'next day, Id be down from th'high and life would hit me like a ton of bricks again up until th'point I got my next hit. -He takes a slow shaky breath-  Th'drugs helped us feel like we were normal... But they're gone now, they're not comin' back, meanin' we're just stuck havin' t'deal with th'shit and everything that comes with it...-His eyes meet Ike's-People are unpredictable, difficult, our edges don't fit 95% of the time, but it doesn't mean you don't fit. You give yer blood, sweat, and tears t'the people here, you don't always have t'pretend like y'don't, that's a dark secret t'hide.

ike apatow: -he sticks his tongue into the corner of his lips, staring thoughtfully at Clint, and then steps closer and pushes his hand into Clint's shaggy hair- You were wrong, When we went on that raid and you told me this stuff about yourself, you made it sound like you hardly understood why you'd gotten hooked, why you were using. But you do, kid. You understand a helluva lot more clearly than I think you understand. -clenches his hand some, tightening his fist in Clint's hair- I don't think I can change anything about this, not for me. And even though I still think about using, I've been clean a long time. It's ongoing but it's not everyday, it's not in spitting distance. You can do better than me. You don't have to have any dark secrets. You shouldn't. -his voice has gotten more and more urgent, darker, intent, matching the look in his eyes-

Clint Bennet: -There seemed to be a moment of calm, Ike stepped closer and Clint didn't understand the reason why, thought maybe there were good intentions, but in the blink of an eye, Ikes fingers were tangled in his hair. He didn't know how to take it, eyes widened in confusion and a touch of fear.- I know why I used. Knew back then too. -There was an attempt to step back but Ike had him firmly in place, stopping him.-Didn't know you from Adam back then--His breath catches in his throat as Ike tightens his grip, pulling at his scalp, but he doesn't raise a hand towards the other, couldn't bring himself to do it.- Why don't  you think y'can change anything fer yerself? What's different this time? -Eyes search the others, recognizing that haze of darkness that brought him back to his childhood- Y'wanna know m'darkest secrets? -He questions through gritted teeth, bringing his hand to the upper arm of the other. Everything in his body told him to stop but part of him only knew it was fair. Ike had shown him a lot of trust and hadn't taken advantage of him, he had shared his own struggles, if he wanted to know, he felt like Clint didn't have a reason to keep it from him-

ike apatow: I don't ... -Ike shakes his head slightly, frustrated at attempting to explain this- I don't think I'm hard to read. My motivations are pretty simple. But people have trouble figuring me out and maybe that's how it should be, maybe that's what makes this all work. Only a handful of people really get me, so, y'know. The rest can build me up or tear me down however they want. It doesn't matter. So long as it serves Redwood. -he loosens his fist slightly when Clint holds his arm, smoothing his thumb over the straw-coloured strands like a soothing pet, like an apology- Tell me. Go on. Tell me your darkest secrets.

Clint Bennet: -his eyes shifted between Ike's eyes and his lips- Used t'think you were hard t'read. People ain't used t'others not having an ulterior motive or dancin' around shit instead of gettin' t'the point, but yer pretty cut n' dry even when yer colorful about it. -he observed-  before the world ended, dancin' 'round shit was the norm, feel like people are still used t' it -eyes met the others- why do you let others tear ya down? -when the other loosened hits grip, Clint could feel his shoulders relax, though his hand remained where it was, it was no longer threatening. Clint's fingertips traced from the man's upper arm, down his forearm and to his wrist, clasping it gently and lowering it away from his scalp, fingers absentmindedly felt the leather of one of Ike's many bracelets as he realized just how he backed himself into this corner - growin' up -he started after a long moment, struggling to organize his thoughts- I didn't really know safety or the feelin' of comfort, forget love. M'old man used m'brother n' I as punchin' bags n' things t'be thrown around whenever the mood struck. Home was... A place t'survive n'escape from but y' always had t'come back because y'had nowhere else t'go. It was m'pops that fucked up m'hearin' as a kid, thought he was gonna kill me. -though his words were clear, there was a sense of numbness in his voice, a disconnect behind his eyes, like he wasn't talking about his experience as if he lived it but was retelling it from an outsider's perspective. After he spoke, he realized his fingers were still loosely wrapped around Ike's wrist. He let go as he seemed to come back into himself. Eyes shifted away from Ike, a mix of shame and frustration showing on his features-  Even after I was taken away from there, I couldn't ever feel safe. The sudden quiet put me in m'head a lot n' I hated it. Started usin' t'escape those dark thoughts n' this ache of not belongin', not deservin' anything other than what I was raised with.

ike apatow: -his eyebrows flicker when Clint asks a million-dollar question- People feel better about their lives if they can be assured there's at least one person who's way worse than them. So hey, if I fit the bill, whatever. Call it a psychological service to the town. I can handle it. -he's not bothered by Clint keeping hold of his wrist, being a person who likes physical contact; it helps when Clint starts talking about how he grew up. Ike listens, gaze scanning over the younger man's face as he relates what he's been through, the cruelties and traumas he's suffered, how he came to have his current disability and how that fed into his substance use- You were pretty much fuckin' trapped in it, huh? And god knows it's hard to tell if it's better or worse to be going through that with a sibling. -once most of the story's out, Clint retreats some, dropping Ike's hand; he lets the other man talk, then reaches out again, to clasp just above Clint's elbow- And how d'you feel now? When it comes to that, not feeling safe. Sometimes it helps, in a fucked-up way, that there's groaners all around, because we can point at 'em and say, that's danger, that's a threat, that needs to be destroyed. And not feel conflicted about it. -pauses, for a few moments- Were you conflicted about your old man, and how you felt about him?

Clint Bennet: -He didn't know how this happened, he was trying to help Ike and now he was on the hot seat, he was feeling exposed and vulnerable, the only saving grace was that this was Ike and not someone else. He gave a nod of his head at Ike's observation with his brother- Everythin' 'cept fer th'cage. Mike, he was able to run off when I was ten. Hurt a lot at th'time, but I came t'understand it pretty quickly. Turned inta envy until I was taken out, I still hope he was able t'find some happiness. -His eyes search Ike's when his hand reaches over and gently grasps his arm. His first instinct is always to pull away but with Ike his free hand reaches over, rests on top of the man's hand, remaining there, something he can ground himself to.- Varies... There's pockets of feelin' good, knowin' the enemy, feelin' secure, it took a long time when I first arrived but now those feelin's will last fer weeks, sometimes a month 'n then some. Then... I don't know, sometimes shit happens, sometimes it's nothin' at all n' I just feel m'self slippin', feel those walls comin' back up. I consider leavin', th'threat don't seem so clear no more, it takes a while t'clear m'head, push that shit back, start thinkin' with sense again. Then I just try t'keep that goin' as long as I can. -Shoulders shrug at the admittance, it's something he had never expressed aloud to even hear himself say. Brows furrow at Ike's question about his feelings about his father.- At first, yeah. Y'know, he was my dad, the person I was supposed to have trust in, the person who kept me n'my brother fed. When I was real small I didn't know what he was doin' was wrong, thought it was normal. Goin' t'school showed me that it wasn't. Told some classmates what was happenin' n' their reaction was all I needed t'know I need t' keep this shit t'm'self.

They kept away from me, like they were scared. My viewpoint changed on him then, he was the monster, th'thing t'hide from... But there was another part 'a  me that thought this must be somethin' I deserve, me n'm'brother, we were bad, we were gettin' punished. -There's a pause as his voice cracks, at this point he felt like he couldn't stop himself- He would tell us that as he beat down on us, we were shitheads, worthless, we were the reason mom left 'n now he was stuck with us, we deserved it all n' then some. -He steps away from Ike now, the pain clear on his face as his eyes well up, he digs the heel of his palm into his forehead.- I ain't conflicted 'bout him. He was a bastard, after I was taken out, I got no idea what happened t'him n' I never wanna know. Woulda rather never been born than t'have t'go through that. -He glances at Ike again wiping his eyes  with a frustrated grunt- Fuck, Ike... This was supposed t'be 'bout you... Yer not th'town  punchin' bag. Y'don't deserve it. Just 'cause y'can handle it don't mean y'should have to. Yer a good man, Ike, fuck th'people who can't see that.

ike apatow: That's a pretty generous view to take, for your brother's sake. Lots of people never reach that point. -Ike can tell he's pushing against Clint's boundaries some, touching his arm, but when the other man puts his hand over Ike's, it's a good sign- Yeah. Even with things in Redwood being basically the Four fuckin' Seasons compared to other survivor settlements out there, it still sometimes gets bad inside. Inside your head, inside, I mean. I feel it too. But that's always been what it's like for me and it might be always like that for you too, man. There's a reason we call ourselves addicts even after being sober longer than we were using. -Clint shifts from the general, talking about day-to-day life, back to his father and it's about as ugly as it could be, driving Clint to have to put some space between them to keep himself from shaking apart- That's good. That you know how you feel about your dad, that he doesn't have a grip on you anymore. Even if it still fucks you up, it's clear-cut, and I dunno, maybe it sounds simplistic but in my book? Anything that you can be clear-cut about, it's one less thing that'll trip you up when you're dealing with all the rest. 

-but Clint's changing tracks again, looking at Ike more focused on him past the trauma he'd been relating, and Ike shifts slightly, keeping his own discomfort confined to a shrug- What I deserve or don't deserve is a pretty wide fuckin' field, kid. I've done things ... beyond what most people with normal lives ever do. Some things I can't even begin to process and I'd never finish dealing with em. Where I grew up, everything was either penance or duty, and I guess... -Ike stops, his gaze skating past Clint, dotting back and forth before he says, half to himself- Y'know, you're like the fourth? Fifth? person who's made that comparison. The punching bag thing. -he looks at Clint again, before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning back slightly, a smile just touching his lips- In the Bible -- I dunno how much you're into the Bible, but I was raised on it -- there were two goats, in the scapegoat story. One of em was straight out sacrificed to the Lord, killed right there on the altar. The other one, it got burdened with all the sins of the people, but it got to go free. Carrying the whole community's sins but it got to live, however it wanted, out in the desert for the rest of its life. The Azazel goat. -he does grin, then- Azazel goat's maybe not so bad a thing to be, compared to the alternative.

Clint Bennet: -He takes Ike's words to heart. The other seemed to completely understand where he was coming from, where he was at, though truth be told, he didn't necessarily feel like his dad didn't still have a grip on him. Maybe not in the way Ike mean it, but he could still hear his dad's voice, his words clear as day echoing through his mind in he quiet hours of the night, it wasn't unusual for him to wake and see his dad's figure standing in the room, just barely out of reach, he still had night terrors where he would only wake once he had thrown himself off the bed and onto the floor. He wasn't sure if he should bring that up, selfishly he wanted the attention off of him, after all Ike was the one he was there for, before his admittance, Ike was the one needing help.- 

Simplistic... Yeah, I can git behind that. Easier t'manage. -His eyes searched the others as he began talking about himself again, mentioning the things he had done, to Clint it seemed like those things put a lot of weight on his mind, like he felt stained by what he had done in his past. There were words that Ike used that caught his attention, penance and duty, they didn't seem like a normal phrase Ike would use, they were too specific and dripping with religious intent but Clint decided to just put a pin on that in his mind, in case it came up again.- There ain't no saints in this world anymore, Ike, they're all long dead. We've all done shit, there ain't no normal person no more. We do shit we don't take any pleasure or pride from, try t'bury it down like it don't affect us because at th'end of th'day we gotta save our own fuckin' hides or the hides of those we care about. -Ike seems to go quiet mentioning the comment about being a punching bag.- Almost like a pattern people notice 'bout you. -A sympathetic smile crosses Clint's features again but seems to drop when Ike focuses on religion, Clint knowing it was important to pay attention.-

-As Ike explained Clint could see the comparison Ike was making about himself, like somehow he deserved it... No more than that, like it was his fate to take on that pain, like some destiny, the shift in his expression almost seemed accepting of it. This time Clint reaches out, takes a step towards the weathered man and grabs his shoulder firmly.- Is that what y'think you are? Like this is somethin' that just needs t'happen? Takin' that shit on is yer responsibility? -He holds Ike's gaze.- Do y'feel like no matter what y'do, that's all people are gonna see you as? That's all yer gonna see yerself as?

ike apatow: Easier to manage. Exactly. -he takes the time to let Clint say his piece, about the questionable deeds that most of them have done in order to survive since the zombie apocalypse, and it's not like Ike fully disagrees, but still there's some part of him that needs to say- There's some things that are objectively evil acts no matter if it's before time or now time, Clint. Nothing's ever gonna erase what I've done and -- I know it's complicated, most of the time when people do fucked up shit it's complicated. That still doesn't take away the harm I caused.

-Clint steps forward, though, after Ike's little parable about the Azazel goat, and his blue eyes are steady and clear when he asks his questions, unwavering with his hand on Ike's shoulder- In its own way? This makes me feel ... better's not the right word, but I haven't found the right word yet. It is penance and I should be paying penance and that -- everything I do, whatever I take on -- it's a slow slow trickle to balance the scales. That's how I see it. If I got weighed against my sins right now I'd be found wanting and there's a long road ahead of me to even just balance it, never mind making up for everything. -Ike shrugs, gaze skidding away from Clint's, up towards the sky- It's fine. I don't feel sorry for myself and I don't have a bad life. This, being here in Redwood doing what I do, it's better than a lot of the places I've been. I got people here who love me, who really love me, and that goes a helluva long way. -his gaze comes down again, settling on Clint- It's the same for you, too, isn't it? Even in the middle of the shitstorm and biters, this is the eye of the hurricane. This is ... safe. Of all the fuckin' things.

Clint Bennet: -Brows knit together in concern and confusion when Ike clarified that he did something he considered evil, again there were those religious undertones that Clint couldn't help but catch on to, he said he was brought up in it, maybe to a more extreme level than Clint had assumed, he got the feeling Ike didn't just go to church every Sunday and have a "choose your own adventure" Bible as a kid. He wondered if that was part of the reason Ike had this type of perspective and outlook about himself.- I git wantin' t'balance th'scale by doin' good things, tryin' t'be better, do better t'make up fer hurtin' people in th'past, cause there's no goin' back n' undoin' that, but- -He pauses for a moment trying to think of how to best phrase his thoughts.- I don't think that gives others th'right t'treat you like shit. That's what worries me, yer not a fuckin' goat from some biblical metaphor or whatever. Yer just a man, that's all any of us are, just people dealin' with our own shit just below th' surface. It don't mean we should bring others down. -His hand slides down to Ike's arm, but he still keeps the contact, his lips draw into a thin line as Ike continues, while Ike's eyes shift upwards, Clint still keeps his gaze on his face, a smile pulling at his lips when Ike mentions how loved he is, the tension releases from his shoulders slightly.- Yer loved Ike, admired, I don't know if this place would be th'same without ya.

-His eyes meet Ike's again. His question seemed so simple, but for Clint it was a little difficult to answer, he couldn't just come out and say yes. He breaks the contact with Ike with a shrug of his shoulders.- Safety, it's kinda like a double edged sword. When yer out there 'n in the shit, fightin' t'survive, y' ain't really got time t'think, yer just tryin' t'make it fer the next hour, th'next day. Here in this safety, y' got all this time t'be with yer thoughts, reflect, deal with them, a lot of th'time it ain't easy. I ain't sayin' I miss bein' out there. -He cocks his head towards the nearest perimeter wall- But, sometimes I miss that feelin' of not bein' stuck in m'head. I don't feel like I've found m'place here yet, I've met some great people, people I care fer deeply, like you, just tryin' t'figure how I fit into it all. -He takes a breath.- Fuck, don't know about you, I could use a cig right about now. -He laughs glancing up at Ike again.- I don't know what y'did in yer past that y'feel stained ya so much n' y'aint ever gotta tell me if y'don't want to, but I'm glad I've met ya, Ike, who you've become, who you are now, I'm real glad fer it. 

ike apatow: Well, kid - these are all great sentiments, and I agree with you, but in real life when things are getting worked out in technicolour in front of a live studio audience? -Ike grins, a little wearily- It's not so clear-cut. If the people treating me like shit were also assholes, that would be one thing. When it's good sweet people who're better than me in all the ways that better gets measured? Call me Billy Goat Gruff. -he shakes his head with an accompanying lift of one shoulder, the grin softening into a smile at Clint as the other man goes on, kind words that Ike lets soak into him- Don't sweat it. I've been through a lot. I can handle this. I always find ways to handle whatever comes down the pike.

-Clint's problem with being in Redwood is a familiar one, and Ike nods, snickering when Clint mentions how good a cigarette would be now- Fuckin' ay, man. But that's the thing about recovery - you're stuck with you, wherever you go. So busy or not, you gotta find some way to live with all the clanging bullshit going on in the ol' noggin. -he reaches over to flick a fingertip against Clint's temple- If it's noisy, too noisy, so much that keeping yourself busy isn't cutting it, come talk to me. I was never anybody's NA sponsor or anything, I don't figure I have the right temperament for it, but I can be a good sounding board. Awright? It'd be good for me too, to be honest.

-the last few comments, delivered so genuine with a double dose of Clint's sky-blue stare, leaves Ike a little quiet for a moment, and then he leans over, balanced on one foot so he can nudge against Clint before going back to standing normally- Thanks. I don't... -he's at a loss, not sure how to respond to Clint's words, and settles on- It's good to know some people made it through all the shit to be here. To be in Redwood in this community we got for ourselves, carving out the new future. I'm glad you're in it too. -he gives Clint one more quick, tight-lipped but genuine smile with his gaze scanning over the other man one more time for good measure, and lopes off back towards the main party-