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paused-waterfall · 3 months

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Little Details of Feather Preening

I love reading fics in which a character with feathers gets help preening them from another character. I think part of it is because it explores the alienness of the winged/feathered character in a grounded, tactile way, while also exploring the dynamic between two characters. It's worldbuilding and character development all rolled into one! But another huge reason why I like it is just cause my parakeet sometimes lets me help with her feathers, and it's the best experience ever omfg.

I figured, for the sake of fic writers who don't have access to the cutest most patient bird in the world (and for me, who feels like rambling) I'd vomit out a ton of little details of what it's like to help a bird preen, and how it might translate to characters with both human and bird features:

(Note, this isn't exactly researched. My sample size is literally one bird and some casual reading about other species (sounds like crow feathers work similarly to parakeets, for instance: https://urbannature.blog/2022/09/23/the-unbearable-itchiness-of-moulting/). Please take this as an account of what preening a bird is like, and not as advice for things to do to a real bird.)

The exact term for preening something other than oneself is "allopreening". It's a social behavior and not all species do it. But if you're writing about a bird-human hybrid, ehhh humans have grooming instincts to add to the mix, so IMO the species of bird shouldn't hold you back!

Allopreening is most needed on areas the bird can't access themself. Wings and tails are mostly accessible-- the long feathers can be gently bent into reach. The back of the head/neck is the most prime location for allopreening. A humanoid trying to preen on their own would probably try to use a mirror to see what they're doing, and seriously tire out their arms reaching back there to do such finicky work.

Birds are pretty good at spinning their heads to see and work on anything below their necks, but an avian-ish character without that range of motion might need more help on the base of their wings, shoulders, and back.

My bird gets pissed when I so much as touch any feathers that are critical to flight (the longest wing and tail feathers). Care for those feathers is super important, and trusting someone else with that task would be a huge deal!

To request a preening, my bird angles her head at me, shakes it, and gently poofs up her feathers. If it's going well, she'll stay poofed up and maybe close her eyes.

A completed preening session always ends with feathers being shaken out.

Molting!

Often, the first sign of an impending molt is a fluffy down feather floating in the air. These feathers will cling to anything they touch.

The start of molting involves a lot of old feathers falling out, and some chill allopreening can be involved in this. Just lightly ruffling their feathers can help dislodge ones that are ready to go.

After getting rid of the old feathers, pin feathers start to grow in. They start out covered in a waxy sheath and with a blood supply running through them. While the blood supply is there, these are also called blood feathers, and damaging them can cause a lot of bleeding.

Pin/blood feathers are very sensitive. A wrong move can cause them to poke into the skin. Add this to the general vulnerability of not being at peak flight ability and the body's exhaustion at having to produce the feathers, and you've got an irritable and skittish bird. This is all a whole lot like a feathery version of a period.

Allopreening pin feathers is a lot more delicate than helping dislodge old ones. There's a careful art involved in telling which ones are ready to have their sheaths removed. Learning this art as a non-feather-haver involved, for me, a lot of sudden nipping from an unsatisfied customer. These days, I can tell I'm working on the wrong feather if my bird tenses up or glares at me.

Removing the sheath from a feather is SO SATISFYING. You take a dull-colored, irritating pin, and gently unwrap it to reveal a soft, beautiful new feather. Any time I see my bird all disheveled by pin feathers, it takes serious willpower to resist pestering her to let me fix them.

Non-molt preening!

Fully grown feathers also need daily upkeep

Birds secrete oils that they spread over their feathers with their beaks. A bird-person or their allopreening partner might choose to work other oils into the feathers, similar to how we use skincare products.

Feathers lost outside of the molting cycle can start regrowing immediately. However, a partially damaged feather will not regrow until it is removed or falls out during a molt.

Clipped wings are essentially damaged feathers-- an intelligent bird-person might be inclined to rip these out so that new, full feathers will be faster to grow... but, that would mean going without the partial feathers, and the gliding/slight lift they allow. That's a pretty big risk!

Hope someone gets some use out of this :) Happy bird-fic'ing!

#birds #qsmp #<-- this is definitely inspired by all the fics about the qsmp birdfolk #birb talk #⏸️

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goatsghost · 10 months

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something i’m just realizing about the “dick is damian’s parent” fics is that they often point out that after bruce came back, dick left for bludhaven immediately. but i just realized that’s not quite true.

bruce came back, and there were briefly two batmans (batmen?) at the same time. and then bruce left the country to go set up batman inc, for some weird reason, and dick stayed as batman to resolve some final issues. so yeah dick and damian kept being batman and robin for a good bit of time after bruce returned. do with that information what you will

#dick is damian’s parent is my favorite fic trope at the moment lol #i love how he fuckin hates dealing with this kid but also loves him like he’s his own son #and damian starts idolizing dick; his mentor his hero his caregiver; while also being a little shit (but less genuinely aggressive abt it)#every batfamily relationship is so complicated and great #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #mine #my favorite dick scene with him is in nightwing when damian calls #and dick is like fuckkkkk i don’t wanna pick up bc then i’ll have to TALK to him 😩😩😩#and my favorite damian interaction is when dick is showing him a birds nest while they’re on the tallest building in gotham #and damian goes ‘wowwww this is SO interesting i can’t wait to tweet about it’#they’re both so insufferable lmao i love them

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solarwreathe · 6 months

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designing totk ocs for a fic, it's about a gerudo woman and a yiga footsoldier travelling hyrule to learn about the power of friendship and crime. i don't have many plot points mapped out other than they mug penn at some point

i went back and reused this design because i liked it so much

#totk #tears of the kingdom #yiga #gerudo #totk oc #loz oc #legend of zelda #totk fanart #yiga clan #tears of the kingdom fanart #loz fanart #totk penn #totk gerudo #totk yiga #bird on bird violence #of course penn would not notice anything suspect about a woman talking to a bird #totk fic #loz fic

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fatuismooches · 2 days

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Everyone talking about dottore and the segments turning into cats, but never into crows/ravens😞 imagine them cawing at you just to annoy you while zandy just sits on your shoulder completely unbothered

OMG SO CUTE... at first, it would be a bit unnerving to be surrounded by so many corvids looming over you, but you'd get used to it rather quickly. (After all, you've already dealt with being surrounded by a lot of Dottores.) Unfortunately, cawing right into your ear is a lot more aggravating than constant meowing. Your food also gets nabbed quite a few times from one of them swooping in out of nowhere... However, although they're resistant at first, they are still very much receptive to your, and only yours, touch. Small head pats and him nuzzling his beak into your finger. Pecks you affectionately. Threatens anyone who gets too close with less than affectionate pecks. (Pantalone, who found out about the situation, only laughs at the Harbinger's pathetic display of aggression.)

(On twt once i saw a video of a lady giving a crow a tummy rub with a pen... it reminds me of this. He starts squawking the moment you stop even though you're busy trying to find the antidote. 🙄 the audacity) You would also feel so proud the moment one of them actually lands on your stretched-out arm all majestically. Zandy though, is very small compared to the rest of the flock... he remains perched on your shoulder or on the top of your head in all instances. Poor little guy is overwhelmed by all the other segments towering over him. 😔 You end up missing how soft their feathers are but, you just go back to cuddling the black fluff Dottore always wears on his shoulder.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #yk i never realized it but arent crows/ravens pretty big #like i was in the tag and i saw that vid of the crows harassing that cat and i was like hold up 😭😭#or maybe im just tiny (4'9 human here)#anyway... DOTTOCROW SO MANY KISSIES!!! SO MANY HEAD PATS!!#another unrelated comment: ngl i always wondered whether dottore's design is based off a crow or raven or a mix of both.#when i was writing the fabulam fic i did research to gauge what other ppl thought and both of them were said #if u made it this far have EXTRA smooches lore: two birds have recently decided to make a nest near my front door #i have pics of them 😭😭 i immediately thought of dottore and reader

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angelynmoon · 9 months

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Eldritch Steve

Part 11

Eddie stared at Wayne, Wayne stared back, for several long moments neither one blinked but Eddie was human and so eventually he had to.

"Arg, remind me not to get into staring contests with Eldritch beings!" Eddie yelled as he rubbed his watery eyes.

"You never once won a staring contest with me boy, no reason to start now." Wayne said with a shrug, "You want coffee, Steve?"

"You're not mad at me for telling Eddie?" Steve asked, nervously.

"Surprised it took so long." Wayne handed Steve a mug, all of them had been replaced with the new two bedroom trailer.

Steve also knew that several soldiers had gone missing when they insulted Eddie in Wayne's presence, Steve had claimed he'd overheard them talking so he'd eaten them, which had the confronting soldiers cringing back and Owens blanching and making a quick escape.

"It wasn't my secret to tell, but he needs to know what being Mated to one of us means." Steve said, holding his mug in both hands.

"He is right here." Eddie reinserted himself into the conversation, "And I know what I'm getting into, Steve told me about spawning."

Wayne looked at Eddie and then at Steve, "How much did you tell him about spawning?"

Steve blushed, "As much as I know."

Wayne stared at him and then sighed, "Settle in, the both of you, we've got a long night ahead."

Because Wayne knew just how much about Spawning Steve knew or more exactly how little he knew. Spawning alone was different than Spawning with a Mate, and with the species difference, well, there were reasons that Wayne had yet to Spawn himself, and it wasn't just Eddie appearing on his doorstep.

As Eddie's adult he had a duty to prepare him, as the last Adult of his kind he had a duty to Steve too.

For all that Steve had killed their race he was, in fact, still considered a child of their race, not much older than those kids he'd claimed as his, if Wayne wasn't slightly afraid of Steve killing him like he'd killed all the others, he'd forbid them to even think of Spawning, but Steve was dangerous, though he did not appear so and Wayne doubted Eddie's affection for him would protect him for long if he stood in Steve's way.

So, Wayne would prepare them.

Because Spawn only appeared as eggs when one parent was involved, the embryo forming inside the parent and forming the protective shell on it's journey to the outside world.

Spawn that had two parent were born live and hungry, if Steve and Eddie Spawned they would need meat, raw and the fresher the better, ready for when their babies clawed their way into the world.

Eddie would have to distract them with the meat so Steve could heal, otherwise they might feast on his flesh, they ate their own for strength, afterall.

And Wayne would not be allowed near once Steve was expecting, Steve's instincts would see him as a threat to him and the eventual young, and Wayne couldn't say he wouldn't be tempted to eat the possibly runts, it wouldn't be the first time he'd eaten the newly born, he'd eaten several of his Spawnmates when he'd clawed his way out of his birth parent and his secondary parent hadn't been quick enough to fill his belly.

Wayne didn't remember Steve's Spawning parents, it was likely they'd abandoned him early on, expecting him to die quickly, some Spawning parents would eat their defective ones but others felt the need to let the other creatures have a taste of them. It was a testament to Steve's strength that he'd survived so long on his own.

Their race wasn't kind, not even to their young.

But maybe, Wayne thought as he looked at a waiting Steve and a trying to escape Eddie, he could change that, or at least Steve and Eddie could.

A/n: like I said Ao3 is down and well, I still have nothing better to do, so enjoy.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48500452?view_full_work=true

Ao3 is back, so here's the link, I didend up calling it From the Rot, for now at least, thank you for all you suggestions though. <3

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta @planetsoda @paintsplatteredandimperfect @irregular-child @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @steddieassheg0es

#steddie #eldritch monster steve #upside down creature steve #mpreg mention #wayne is the real mvp here #the birds and the bees talk #mentioned cannibalism #mentioned child abandonment #infantcide of sorts #culture building #if i can't read fic i will write it instead #ao3 is down #part 11 #From the Rot

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uh-oh-its-bird · 3 days

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Getting to know naruto through Fandom is so funny bc one fic is like "this is Hashimara, he wants to make a village where no child ever has to fight in wars again :)) With the power of friendship, flowers, and this gun his brother found, he manages to make that dream come true and secure a brighter future for the children of tommorow!"

And then the next fic, set some years later in that same friendship village, is like "this is Kakashi! He's a 6 year old government licensed killer with undiagnosed ptsd. His teacher and vague father figure (who is also the president) thinks that what he needs to help with all the government sanctioned trauma is to join the KGB"

#birds rambles #naruto #kakashi hatake #hashirama senju #hatake #senju #naruto lore #nart #birds fic talk

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i-am-church-the-cat · 2 months

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i am obsessed (and still recovering emotionally from peak). i need them as an older married couple. like, when they have time, does oscar hide somewhere and make logan hunt him down, just for fun? does logan's hyperfixation result in epic sex/cuddles? does logan end up feeding oscar? does oscar's sleepiness help calm logan down? OB-SESS-ED.

Idk about older and married but I do have some married and domestic Loscar headcanon posts

when they have time, does oscar hide somewhere and make logan hunt him down, just for fun?

Interesting. I would say no just because it's not something either of them really plan, it's just Logan's brain randomly taking over. When they're not racing, though, his "hunt" is more like, tracking down that one book Oscar has said he's been wanting.

does logan's hyperfixation result in epic sex/cuddles?

very much so. logan's train of thought is basically just "oscar oscar oscar oscar" so he does essentially whatever oscar wants/needs at the time, like taking care of him after the race in "bird of prey".

does logan end up feeding oscar?

I wanna say no just bc food isn't really what logan is hunting/providing oscar with, it's race wins like in "fresh kill". logan doesn't give oscar EVERY trophy he has but it's very much implied than any win logan gets it's a gift for oscar.

does oscar's sleepiness help calm logan down?

yeah so I tried to kind of imply that at the end of "bird of prey". i see it as a concentration gradient, everything wants to go from high to low (in this case logan's high energy and oscar's low energy). so logan gives oscar some of his energy that has a double benefit of calming him down and waking oscar up a bit more. it also helps a lot with logan's anxiety.

#thanks for the ask i will never stop talking about these fools #fic: bird of prey #fic: fresh kill #fic series: hunting down dreams #loscar #logan sargeant #oscar piastri #formula 1 rpf #f1 rpf #anon ask

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chickinscratch · 2 years

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The second hermit affected was, shockingly, not Jevin.

The small group arrived below the large slimy pig, at the home of the not-as-large slimy slime, and cautiously knocked. Within a few moments, Jevin arrived at the door, eyeing the four that stood before him.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “What’s up?”

“Oh good, you’re not more of a pile of goo than usual.” Cleo noted.

“...Was that a concern that we were having?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Zedaph recounted the situation thus-far, pausing for Jevin to react appropriately with a variety of “hmms,” “mhms,” and “That explains the death messages”s. “-So that leaves the question, why aren’t you more, erm, slimy than usual?”

Jevin shrugged. “Mimicking other mobs is pretty standard slime behavior. I guess if I am affected by whatever this is, I already act enough like any other slime that it doesn’t matter? Though if any of you get too close I will probably absorb you for nutrients, and that won’t be too pleasant.”

“Noted. Keep us posted if you notice yourself becoming concerningly more viscous or anything of the like. We should probably go check on some more of the others to make sure no one else is exploding or absorbing other Hermits for nutrients.”

“Good luck with that - who were you going to check on next?”

“We were thinking Grian,” Cleo produced the list they had compiled from her inventory. “Then probably Gem, since we already have Doc and Zed accounted for. Have you seen either of them?”

Jevin tapped his chin thoughtfully, which was only moderately successful given his consistency. “I haven’t seen Gem - She’d probably be working on her megabase with Impulse and Pearl. I did see Grian flying around here earlier - I think he was pecking at Scar and pushed him into a hole? But that’s pretty average for them so I dunno if it was related to whatever’s going on. Pretty sure he flew off back towards his rift thing though.”

“We should definitely check there first, then, I think.” Cleo returned the list to their inventory. “In the nicest way possible, I don’t trust Grian messing with weird eldritch whatever on a good day, let alone potentially in some kind of full bird-brain mode.”

“I do believe eldritch interference under the influence of avian is illegal in several states.” Joe added.

“Then you should probably all get to dealing with that.” Jevin waved. “Good luck!”

The band of Hermits arrived at the tor that Grian had claimed for his megabase, scouting for any signs of him. Instead, they found Mumbo. “Hello,” Mumbo greeted as the group landed atop one of the giant rocks that formed the landscape.

“Mumbo,” Cleo greeted in return. “Why are you laying on top of a boulder?”

“Grian has decided I’m actually a stick, and also part of his nest.”

“What?”

“I guess I look kind of twiggish?” Mumbo sighed, awkwardly shuffling from the large pile of miscellaneous sticks and branches he was stuck within. “I knew I was spindly and all, but I didn’t think Grian would literally use me as a stick. He was very insistent on it, too.”

“Why is Grian building a nest?” Zedaph eyed the construction eagerly.

“I think he’s trying to hatch his base.”

“What?!” Cleo repeated.

“And also those easter egg things.” Mumbo added. “Those are definitely in this pile somewhere.”

“Why is he trying to hatch his base?” Cleo’s voice pitched. “Isn’t he messing with interdimensional junk this season? Should we be concerned?”

“I think he just thinks the boulder is an egg, honestly.” Mumbo shrugged, which was quite awkward to accomplish from his position betwixt the twigs. “It is kind of egg-shaped. Also he keeps giving boulders heartbeats, which probably doesn’t help. Not that I’m opposed to bases with heartbeats; I’m quite familiar with those.”

“Y’know,” Zedaph mused, “That does explain how he talked about The Entity like it was alive. Maybe he thought that was an egg too.” “It is another decently egg-shaped boulder.” Mumbo agreed.

Joe peered at the pile of sticks composing Grian’s ‘nest’. As Mumbo had described, the easter eggs were indeed nestled inside the Grian-sized entrance. “I would have expected Grian to nest in a tree, given parrots are arboreal. In fact, especially because they usually nest in pre-existing spaces. I wonder why he didn’t just move into Scar’s base or something?”

“I guess he just decided it was easier to build a nest here rather than try to move a boulder.” Mumbo craned his neck to face Joe with limited success.

“That is perfectly logical.”

“So we can safely say Grian also caught whatever bug Doc has, right?” Cleo said.

Ren shrugged. “Honestly, I could see Grian doing this normally.”

“There’s a bug going around?” Mumbo strained to look above shoe-level.

“Cleo, snakes eat eggs, right?” Joe asked.

“There are very much no eggs here, but yes.” Cleo huffed.

“Are you noticing any of those instinct things Zedaph had mentioned?”

“Again, there are no eggs, so no, I am not. In fact, I’m pretty sure those easter eggs are just more rocks painted to look like Grian. I like to consider myself a pretty reliable expert on rocks.”

“Can your expertise determine how egg-like a rock is?” Mumbo asked from the ground.

A few of Cleo’s hair-snakes hissed exasperatedly. “Shape-wise, that’s more of an opinion, though yes, these rocks are approximately egg-shaped. Physically, the most egg-like rock would probably be limestone or something, since it’s calcium carbonate.”

“Is this limestone?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Not a very eggy egg-shaped boulder then.” Mumbo huffed.

“Has Grian been here recently?” Zedaph interjected again.

“He comes and goes from here every few minutes. He’s mostly just been collecting sticks.”

“Out of curiosity, would you say he’s been acting at all any more, perhaps, parrotish?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s built me into a nest.”

“Honestly, that could also just as easily be perfectly normal Grian behavior.” Joe noted.

“I am actively being used as building material!”

“Again, not necessarily out of the ordinary. Maybe he mistook you for a redstone block or torch, given how much redstone you usually consume?”

“Honestly, fair enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if I actually emitted a signal at this point-”

Zedaphs ears perked up. “Can we test that?”

“-But I think there are bigger concerns to focus on right now.”

A shrill squawk interrupted their slightly derailed conversation as a very puffed-up Grian landed on top of his nest. And by extension, Mumbo. “Ow.” Mumbo mumbled. Grian ignored him, flaring his wings and tail feathers at the collected group and hissing. Cleo’s snakes helpfully hissed back.

“Huh, I forgot that parrots hiss.” Zedaph said.

“Leave.”

“Oh, fantastic! You’re still verbal. We were having issues communicating with Doc-”

“LEAVE.” Grian fluttered to atop Mumbo’s head, which prompted a new bout of complaints from the designated-stick-and-now-perch. Grian pecked at him a few times until he quieted.

“Mumbo,” Joe sidestepped to stand between the nest and other Hermits. “Since Grian has apparently accepted you as part of his nest, perhaps you could help explain the situation to him?”

“I can try my best,” Mumbo grumbled, Grian’s talons tapping at his head each time he made a noise. “But I make no promises.”

“We appreciate any effort you can provide.”

“Grian-” Mumbo winced at another round of pecks. “Grian. Hey, buddy-” he whistled, which Grian rightened and quirked his head at, giving some reprieve to the pecking. “It’s okay. They’re not here to mess with your definitely, totally real eggs that are not rocks. They’re just here to talk to you.”

Grian squinted suspiciously at the collected group, but seemed to at least calm down enough to listen. He ducked inside the nest, settling delicately atop the easter eggs of himself as if it were a throne, and glared out at the group. “Fine. Continue.”

“They mentioned some kind of bug, or something…? What was the bug thing?”

“Ah, yes,” Zedaph clapped. “You see, earlier Ren found Doc behaving strangely, which resulted in both of them exploding a few times. I had also been feeling a bit strangely this morning, and Jevin and Cleo mentioned potential behavioral changes as well, so I propose a theory that whatever cause Doc’s current condition may be impacting some of the other less humanoid members of the server.”

“Well I feel perfectly fine.”

Cleo’s hair-snakes bristled. “Grian. You are using Mumbo as a stick.”

“He is a stick.”

“You’re nesting on top of painted rocks.”

“Eggs.”

“Those are very much rocks.”

“Your snake tricks won’t work on me. I won’t let you eat them.”

“I am literally a geologist, Grian.”

“And these are eggs.”

“Can we go back to Doc?” Cleo sighed. “He was much easier to reason with.”

“I kind of prefer not blowing up. Again.” Ren added.

“I can still blow you up if you want.” Grian offered.

“No thank you.”

“Probably for the best.” Grian preened at his feathers. “Wouldn’t want the nest to get damaged.”

“As the nest, I appreciate that.” Mumbo said.

“Quiet, stick.”

“Grian,” Cleo took a deep breath, “Maybe you could let Mumbo stop being a stick for a little bit?”

Grian gasped. “Mumbo is an integral stick to the nest! The entire thing would be destroyed if he left! I smell your snakey tricks! You can’t fool me!”

“I am not trying to eat your dumb- rrrgh!”

“This is rather uncomfortable, Grian.” Mumbo whined. “I have splinters.”

“Well of course you do. That’s how sticks work.”

“Griaaan-”

“Don’t tell me you’ve sided with them!”

“Listen, Grian, I will accept being classified as a redstone component, but I think I’ve decided being a stick is a bit much for me! It’s a lot of commitment!”

“Well you’ve got to at least wait until they’ve hatched.”

Cleo made a strangled noise. “They’re ROCKS-!”

“Hey!” Grian squawked. “I’m the egg expert here.”

“SNAKES LAY EGGS TOO!”

“Yeah, but snake eggs are all squishy and gross. My eggs are strong and beautiful. It’s no wonder you think they’re stone. I forgive you for your confusion; it’s a very easy mistake to make.”

Cleo shouted indistinctly, though not indecipherably. Joe found it very decipherable. After all, he was very familiar with Cleo’s miscellaneous grumbles of exasperation and frustration. Many of them were often directed towards him. “What if we came to a compromise?’ Joe offered. “I notice the top of this here boulder-”

“Egg.”

“-Egg, yes, is quite barren and cold.”

Grian nodded. “That’s why Mumbo is such an important stick. He helps keep the nest warm.”

“I’m cold.” Mumbo grumbled.

“What if we helped you relocate your eggs somewhere nice and warm, and perhaps more enclosed? They’d be much safer than up here, and Mumbo could take a break for a little bit.”

Grian shuffled thoughtfully. “...And Cleo wouldn’t eat them?”

“I know just the place where Cleo will absolutely never go.”

"I’m gonna need more convincing.”

“Joe, Mumbo, and I can help carry your eggs, so you don’t have to worry about Cleo or Ren eating them.” Zedaph added. “And I’ll even throw in some of my wool.”

“What about the big egg? I can’t move that one.”

“We could shrink it.”

“You can shrink it?” Grian tilted his head curiously.

“You can shrink it?” Cleo repeated.

“I am a scientist and procurer of extravagant devices; Of course I can shrink it- though we will need to remove your nest and the other eggs from it first.”

“Deal. But if you’re tricking me I’ll kill you.”

“No tricks, my feathered friend.” Zedaph placed a solemn hoof-hand to his heart. “I am entirely invested in the safety of your eggs. Now, you, Mumbo, and Joe take your eggs to ground-level while I prepare for The Shrinkening.”

“And Ren and I will just… stand a reasonable distance away, I suppose.” Cleo muttered, already launching off. Ren and Zedaph took off following her, leaving Joe to help untangle Mumbo from his stick prison.

Grian watched the process like a hawk (or, like a parrot?), cradling his eggs and intensely micromanaging the careful dissection of his nest around Mumbo as to preserve as much as possible (rather than allow Mumbo to simply sit upright). Once Mumbo was free, Grian gingerly distributed the “eggs” as though they were the most precious cargo in the world. Upon close inspection, Joe could confirm they were in fact just some painted rocks Jevin had used in the egg hunt. One at least seemed to be potentially made of limestone, so it probably scored closer to being a real egg than any of the rest.

The trio landed in the forest a little ways from the foot of the main tor. Mumbo stretched liberally, making an assortment of cracking noises that made Joe consider some truth to Grian’s observations of Mumbo being a stick. “I was laying there for hours.” Mumbo sighed. “This is so much better.”

“How would you rate your experience on a scale of ‘minorly’ to ‘quite pants?’” Joe asked.

“I can kill this season, you know.”

“Okay, but how would you rate it?” Ren asked, trotting up to join them. Cleo followed closely behind.

“... It was at least decently pants.”

“Hah, you said the thing.” Cleo smirked.

“This is just not my day, is it?”

Zedaph emerged from the trees, hurrying to join the gaggle of Hermits. “Alright, everyone! Who’s ready for The Shrinkening?”

“You’re certain this is entirely safe, right?” Grian drew his eggs closer to his chest.

“Of course. I would never put your absolutely gargantuan egg in any danger. Now, the process will be a bit strange, but you must trust me, alright?”

“Alright…” Grian cradled his eggs with blatant uncertainty.

“Now, you’ll all have to face away, because witnessing The Shrinkening would be very bad for your retinas, but when I count to three the egg will be shrunk! And also, conveniently replaced with an identical boulder of equivalent size and mass, so as to not disrupt the environment.” Cleo stifled a snicker.

“...This sounds like a trick.” Grian squinted at Zedaph.

“No, no, no! You must trust The Shrinkening. Now, everybody turn around.” The collected Hermits obliged.

“One,” Zedaph counted. “Two… THREE!”

They collectively turned back, Grian practically whipping around to face whatever Zedaph had done. Nothing looked different, save for Zedaph holding aloft… a small, ovoid rock, the same colors as the boulder behind him. Cleo doubled over, wheezing quietly in an effort not to cackle aloud. Grian simply inched cautiously towards Zed, reaching out for the “egg.” Zedaph ceremoniously placed it into his awaiting palm. “One shrunken egg, perfectly transportable and safe.”

Grian stared at the “egg.” Joe could practically see avian and player halves of his brain at war, trying to decide if they had been fooled or not. Finally, Grian gave the rock a gentle kiss and nestled it with the rest of the clutch. Cleo wheezed loudly off to the side.

“Alright,” Grian huffed, turning to Joe. “You promised me a better nest spot. Where is it.”

“Of course, right this way.”

#hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #mumbojumbo #zombiecleo #zedaph #hermitcraft ensemble #would tag Joe since he's the POV but he doesnt talk much in this one #i didnt expect to default to Joe POV so often but here i am i guess #fanfic #chicken scratch #long post //#Mob Mentality #THE SERIES HAS A NAME NOW YAY #VERY dialogue-heavy this one. i tend to do that a lot.#this is already a very self-indulgent fic cause i like worldbuilding exploration #particularly with player-mob/hybrid behaviors cause like. if theyre gonna be hybrids why *not*#but this chapter in particular is probably my favorite so far just out of Excuse To Write Silly Bird People. aka my favorite.#also this group's dialogue habits are very fun for me to write

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cookiescraems · 7 months

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this was how their first meeting went

#copy pasting my tkkg shitposts from the bird app before i move on with the hcs and fics #tsukikage #tsukishima x kageyama #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #haikyuu #jenn talks

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birdinabowl · 2 months

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I wish we got to see Jasper post corruption coming to terms with the fact she got corrupted + her scars.

She was the perfect quartz solider and she knew that but after being corrupted she wouldn’t have been considered “perfect” anymore.

#ik there would’ve been no reason to show that but I just 💥💥💥#if we actually did in future and I forgot my bad I haven’t watched anything outside of the volley and bluebird episodes in a hot second #I am a sucker for any fic that has amethyst helping japser after she got healed #Jasper and Amethyst relationship has so much potential (at least in fanon)#Sorry this got so off topic #birds rambles #steven universe #Talked to a mate about this before

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shootybangbang · 3 months

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The Nature of Hounds [Part 1/?]

[Ao3 link]

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Mature

Tinkering around with low honor Arthur Morgan. Unedited, feel free to point out errors and give criticism.

------

When you shake the pocket watch, it rattles with the jingle of loose parts. You frown and set it back down on the table. “This is broken. Best I can do is three dollars.”

“Get outta here with that shit.” Arthur taps the metal casing. “This is real gold. You can do at least ten.”

You weigh the watch against your palm.

“Well?”

“Gold plated.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.”

“You know I don’t kid when there’s money on the line.”

“Lowest I’ll go on this is nine.”

“Four.”

He gives you a look.

“You think that yokel over in Emerald Ranch’ll give you a better deal?” you ask.

Seamus would buy this fucking watch for no less than fifteen fucking dollars. He’d give the thing a once over, offer a timid “I can give you five”, then buckle at a glare and go triple. And yet here he is. Following the whim of his cock and his own misplaced affections, like a bull with a lead strung through its nose.

“I’ll tell you what. Mr Kuang downstairs used to be a watchmaker. This thing doesn’t sound that busted, and he owes me a favor anyhow. I’ll do you four fifty.”

He raises his eyes up to high heaven and sighs. “Fine.”

“So adding up the rings, the pendant, the cameo, and the, uh… the teeth… I’ve got you totalling seventeen.” You slide a neatly penciled memorandum across the table. “Check my sums if you don’t believe me.”

“I ain’t botherin’ with that.”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t.” You sweep the little pile of stolen goods into a drawer. “Is it because you’re stupid or you’re sweet, I wonder?”

“Prob’ly the first.” He dips his head down to steal a kiss, but you press a stern palm against his shoulder and hold him at arm’s length.

“Not when I’m behind the counter.”

“Take care of this shit later.”

“Down.”

“C’mon—”

“I said down.”

So he steps back with his heart sunk one notch lower. Posts himself near the front door, arms crossed, hat brim tipped low, cleaning the dirt beneath his fingernails with a pocket knife as the rectangle of light spilled from the window begins to tick across the floorboards in a dimming dial. He presides over the thin trickle of customers and peddlers alike with a baleful eye, and it’s not until the bell tower in the square tolls five and you swing open the side gate in a flurry of swirling skirts that he can pull you in by the waist and sink into the frantic kiss that you press him with.

Locked door, shuttered windows. Hurriedly, you flip the sign posted against the glass from OPEN to CLOSED as he flattens your back against the wall and pulls the ribbon at your throat loose with a yank of his teeth. You sift your fingers through his hair, then grip hard, yanking his head back. “Three weeks without a letter, you bastard,” you snarl. “Thought they’d hanged you someplace out west."

“Aw, don’t tell me you was worried.”

“‘Course I was worried. You’re my best earner.”

The smile you flash along the slight is sweet and quick as a fleeting slip of riverlight, and he forces himself to smile back, but the truth remains that he has never come here empty handed. Still fearful of the risk that you might cut him with the same expectant look Dutch has at the end of deals gone wrong and scores lost.

Your eyes shut slow as you kiss him again. He runs his palm up your back as he finds and unclips the clasp of your blouse and the tension in your hand loosens like weakening resolve. It surprises him still, that gentling spread that flows arterial at the simple touch of his hand.

The room tucked behind the storefront is cramped and cluttered with belongings that you have only recently begun letting him examine. When you lead him in, it’s with your hands clutching his neckerchief like reins, tripping over the hazard of table corners and your lone, bystanding chair. You walk backwards into your unmade bed, and he lets you pull him atop you with an obedience he scarcely understands. You fumble to pull down his belt and he yanks down your skirt in a confusion of hands as you work to lay each other bare. “Did you miss me,” you murmur, and he answers not with words but with a violent jerk of his hips, relaying with friction what he does not know how to otherwise.

Arthur cups his hand to your cunt, trails his middle finger along the wet seam like tracing the crest of a wave. In red fantasy, he takes the time to prime you for him, spreads and sucks the soft furl of flesh with his mouth, but you have never had the patience for foreplay. It's as if the unselfish act of pleasuring you were a step too intimate; even in this, a necessary expectation of quid pro quo that you have not the inclination to entertain.

“Come on then, gunslinger,” you growl. Another kiss, fierce and carrying the admonishment of teeth. You jerk the fabric of his shirt up to reveal his chest, then stiffen and splay your hand over the filthy bandage wrapped there. “Christ.”

“It’s nothin’.”

The cloth is stained with old blood that has seeped from the locus of his wound like a rust colored bloom, and is grimy from sweat and travel. You stare at it with revulsion. “Morgan, this is disgusting.”

The prickle of shame that stretches up his spine has transitioned to sullen indignation by the time it reaches his head. “Didn’t figure someone in your line of work to be so goddamned squeamish.” He tries to pull his shirt back down. You grab his wrist.

“Keep this off,” you say. “I’m running you a bath.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan/oc #fic #my work #the nature of hounds #this is totally unrelated to talking bird btw

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 11 months

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i've written quite a few nobby scenes this week... and somehow they keep devolving into religion?

I think because the subject lends itself to the quintessential Bird-at-Barrow-Central-ish mood, right between heartbreaking and funny.

47 sighed, and then looked at Coppernob very steadily. "To tell truth, Nobby? I always liked listening to those old yarns from the Joint Lines—they were some of the best stories I ever heard—but they were just... stories."

" 'Stories'," repeated Coppernob. But he said it very neutrally.

"I don't mean any disrespect! But they are just tales, ain't they? I don't think there is an engine god. There's only the men's God... and He has no truck with us."

"To be sure. But He didn't give us souls, and the men didn't give us souls—so they came from somewhere."

"Why shouldn't He have given us souls? Perhaps He does. He's given souls to men who have had a far worse life than me—and who went to their end with less hope. Perhaps our souls are His work, and he just doesn't care for us. That makes better sense than the Lady stories. Coz then there should have to be a god for the ships, shouldn't there? An' the autos, and the submarines—and the aeroplanes!" 47 rolled his eyes at the last, this being a self-evidently absurd notion.

Coppernob was unmoved. "Perhaps they have. The ships do worship something, though they're very secretive about it—as they ought to be. I shouldn't blab to them, about our mysteries."

"But the aeroplanes, Nobby? Come now!"

#47: humans' god? yeah he's real. obviously.#engine god? i could be talked into it... i kinda wanna be talked into it #airplane god? PFFFTTTTT #ya gotta draw a line somewhere!#ya gotta draw a fuckin' line in the sand!#ya gotta make a statement!#ya gotta look inside yourself and say 'what am i willing to put up with today?' NOT FUCKIN' AIRPLANE GODS!!!#fic snippets #jobeywrites #bird at barrow central #religion tw

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dipplinduo · 3 months

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I'm curious, if Sourdough doesn't like Kieran, then why does he want his jacket so much?

AHA-

*clears throat*

AHAHAHA-

*clears throat MORE AGGRESSIVELY*

A H A

#idkkkkk :D #oh whats that over there #pretty bird #????#what were we talking about #my fics #this is my way of saying “lore” LOL #dipplinshipping #kieran pokemon #kieran x juliana pokemon #juliana pokemon #juliana x kieran pokemon #kieran x juliana #juliana x kieran #applin supremacy

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fatuismooches · 5 months

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Hii it's me, the anon who wants to eat your writings as desserts!

I've been thinking about something, specifically about Fragile!Reader. (Sorry if the bad English is bad)

During Dottore and Nahida's meeting, I like to imagine Nahida take a look inside Dottore's mind when he erased his segment. At first, she expected to see the horror and the unsettling mind of a mad doctor, a mind with nothing but ambition and insanity. How surprised she was when she saw you occupying most of the doctor's mind. How surprised Nahida would be to see that Dottore is capable of loving someone, especially someone so fragile as you are.

She probably commented on something about you and your relationship with the doctor to which the doctor almost instantly tried to change the topic with a lingering threat.

After everything that she saw, I wonder if Nahida would remember and keep the story about the Mad Doctor and his fragile beloved as a fairy tale. In my opinion, she would. And if she does, I wonder how she'll portray Fragile!Reader.

Ok that's it, my thoughts about Fragile!reader. Also can I be Dessert Anon? ><

YES!! I LIVE FOR DOTTORE AND READER VS NAHIDA INTERACTIONS!!

Nahida doesn't think she will ever understand the mind of the Outcast, nor she will ever agree with the way he works or thinks. He has long succumbed to the mind of a pure scientist, disregarding the value of human life if it will allow him to progress in his research. So, when the young God looks into the Harbinger's mind, she expects to see nothing different from that. But, even the God of Wisdom can be proven wrong, is something Nahida has come to understand, for although the Doctor's mind is certainly mad, he is also mad for you. That is certainly something she did not expect. She didn't even know you were still alive. So he's managed to prolong your life as well? But judging from what she's seen, you're still quite ill. Hm... the Dendro God is a mixture of surprise and intrigued. The Doctor is one who isn't above abandoning his experiments when they get boring or seem fruitless. And your case certainly seems hopeless, with no progress to be seen but... he still seems to be completely obsessed with you. It's strange, and a part of her understands and doesn't understand at the same time. Nahida knows that love can truly change people. But is the Doctor really one that could be changed? She finds it a bit hard to believe, but the evidence is right in front of her.

Of course, her curiosity cannot be contained and she has to inquire about you, to which Dottore blatantly disregards. He's not going to speak about you to almost anyone, much less a God. ("I didn't think the God of Wisdom would be so nosy about my private affairs.")

I imagine obviously she doesn't particularly like or approve of you, but Nahida still can't help but feel pity for you, with your illness and all. But she would still like to have a conversation with you. She would want to discover how you managed to have the Outcast wrapped around your finger... she would want to know your story... that is if you're willing to speak with her.

#smooches talks #dessert anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #AND DW UR ENGLISH IS GREAT!!#ugh oh my gosh i cant help but think abt reader meeting nahida when they visit sumeru again for a trip #maybe you escaped away from dottore a bit for some alone time in the forest #and you just meet her on her swing talking to the aranara and you both just look at each other #and both of you instinctively know who the other is #UGHHH THE INTERACTIONS #also i find it funny i got this when i published the fics where nahida actually does tell ur story as a fairytale #poor reader... being portrayed as a flightless bird/butterfly

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