#with owl feathers and dragon scales

[eclec-tech]

We had no choice! 🤪 All those Tumblr reblogs! I wrote, she wrote, I wrote, art, art, art—it all wanted to go together! So, we reworked the ending to make it more open-ended, squished all the reblog writing together, and plugged in the art. Voilà! Multichapter Foxy goodness! ☕✨🦊

"The Spicy Fox": EXCITING UPDATE

It's no longer a one-shot! 😃

When a situation inspires a fic, and that fic inspires art, which inspires more fic, inspiring more art, more fic, more art...

✨ IT'S TIME FOR A TEAM-UP! ✨

This is a multi-chapter fic now! Beginning with Chapter 2, the (insert eighteen complimentary adjectives here) @eobe and I are creating more of this Fox x Reader story TOGETHER! 🦊☕✏️

Come check it out!

[tenojan-in-tevinter]

Love it when mages/spellcasters in stories have slightly otherworldly traits. Unnatural eye colors/pupil shapes, unusual skin tones/hues, sharp/animal like teeth, nails, or ears, fur/horns/scales/feathers where they'd normally have none, etc.

[dryptosaurusghost]

Wof tribes redesign again!!!!! Ive been figuring out how to make them quadroped wingwalkers with malleable hands in a way that i like. I gave them pterosaur swag cause theyre my fav beasts.

notes under tha cut

Ancestral traits of my headcannon tribes

feathers, exterior ears, six limbs, beaks with teeth, wing walking, thumb knucklewalking

skywings- upright posture with long long limbs, lacking a wing thumb for a more aerodynamic build, reduced tail. They have the hottest fire and hunt aerial prey, they are highly mobile in the air.

Icewings- tallest tribe, black skin under feathers. Clear feathers, feathers on neck modified to form shiny/pearlescent spikes. They rattle when they move and they persist ant hunt large land prey.

Nightwings- Covered in iridescent star spots, have grooves on their patagium to facilitate silent flight (a la owl), and have fluff around their beaks. They have really good hearing.

rainwings- Standard posture has flexible neck folded, feathers and scales can change color. Small, elliptical wings allow for fast pursuit through thick forest but are not good for long distance flight. Short legs are better for climbing then running.

Mudwing- Has tusks that grow through the lower jaw and thick armor and osteoderms. Secondarily featherless and wallow to avoid sun damage. Sit and wait ambush predators, a la crocodile, squat posture means they are not efficient walkers.

Sandwing- Long limbs, mane down back with quill spines. dark skin to protect against sun damage, Ossicones! Grapple flying prey and immobilize them with their tail stingers.

Seawings- Largest dragons, thick webbed spines on back that can flatten down, short wings permit flight but are not efficient. Better at swimming then walking or flying. Barbles on face are sensory organs.

i plan on designing clothes for these things at some point

[the-ancient-dragons]

Ice, Rain, Night, and Sea Dragons!

(wow!)

From the How to Spot a Dragon Before it Spots You guide.

Details and explanation below, otherwise next week are the Overcomplicated SilkWings! See you then! :)

Ice Dragon: - very sparkly - hard to see in snow or fog - sharp whistle sound when flapping

Keeping with the spiky design the wings are also very sharp looking. They would have a very distinct sound, I imagine, both because of the shape of their wings and because of the tail/neck spikes (think pigeon or mourning dove, their feathers make a very iconic sound when cutting through the air). Speaking of the tail, I just love how it turned out!

Rainforest Dragon: - shortest wings for forest flight - change colours -> can camouflage - bouncy flight

What does 'bouncy flight' mean? Well, if you've ever seen any small songbird fly, some have a very iconic way of flying where they flap really quickly and then pause, wings tight to their sides and shoot forward like a missile. I think this would translate to a forest very well, where they could flap their wings for short bursts and slip through branches or vines on the upbeat. Their short wings are also inspired by harpy eagles. I thought it fit perfectly!

Night Dragon: - impossible to see in the dark - underside of wings look like stars - quiet - very rare

The NightWing wing shape and flying style is completely inspired by Levithan Creations. It just works so perfectly that I can't think of anything else for them. How would they do it? Perhaps a very light hyperspecialized scale similar to the scales on moth wings that would help dampen flight sounds. Or, since that seems a little far-fetched, maybe a special peach fuzz like that on owl's wings. I'll need to dig deeper into it, but I like the direction it's going!

Sea Dragon: - shortest dragon (height) - weakest flier -> more commonly skim - triangular wings - heavy tail drags so they often skim like flying fish

Wow I really had to mention the skimming twice. I mean wow that scavenger that wrote this is really lame, huh?

But in all seriousness, I was almost going to go with a more penguin-flipper like shape that would really not be suited to flying until I realised "holy crap we already have a really cool example of flying aquatic 'creature'". Flying fish are so cool. And really, if a SeaWing really chose to fly between islands, why go that far out of the water? Why fly as high as other dragons in the first place? Skimming on the water seems like a perfect use for their strong tails, which could propel them quite fast.

And that's all for the How to Spot a Dragon series. I had lots of fun making this. These designs aren't final but the general adaptations are going to be the starting point. I can't wait to do proper anatomy and action sketches!!!

But first, I want to finish the Overcomplicated series. Next up: SilkWings! See you then!

[ch3micallyinsane]

IceWing Headcanons

I imagine they can have feathers(mostly fur-like down feathers, full plumage only on certain parts of the body.), fur, scales, or one with accents of the other. Snowfall has fur, Lynx has feathers, and Winter has scales.

They're feline-ish, like their SandWing relatives. They have whiskers, thicker paw pads, and can purr- all traits they share with the desert dragons. I can see an IceWing seeing a cat for the first time and being freaked out at how similar its body language and noises are to their's.

Some traits that vary from dragon to dragon are:

They can have either horns or large ears.

Spike texture- for feathered and furred IceWings, it's like porcupine quills. For scaled IceWings, it's the same as canon.

Wings- Usually like canon, but dragons with feathers can have owl wings.

Antlers

🫎🫎🫎🫎

Manes on the neck, much more common in furred and feathered IceWings, but can happen in scaled IceWings too.

Tails- If they don't have canon tails, they can have cat-like or fox/wolf-like tails.

--------

I imagine IceWings used to be pretty evenly split between nocturnal and diurnal, but eventually royalty started looking down on nocturnal folks and almost everyone switched their schedules to diurnal except for a few remote villages.

Now that Snowfall is taking down the whole circle system, I imagine IceWing mental health skyrockets among the youth. Younger dragons will probably adore Snowfall, while elders who have lived their whole life around the system might even try to crown a new queen.

Not sure if this makes sense, but maybe dragons in the palace that realize they're allowed to love whoever they want now instead of just arranged marriages. This leads to an eventual boom in couples and PDA. Maybe Snowfall legalizes marriage without needing her approval and that day turns into the IceWing equivalent of Valentine's Day. Plus, imagine all the aromantic and gay folks that don't have to be stuck in hetero marriages anymore.

There's probably still a lot of dragons who haven't really let go of the system yet and let themselves relax. Maybe Snowfall refinds the Gift of Diplomacy and brings in some therapists from other tribes to help her dragons and train some IceWings.

[lunarphoria]

☽☾God of War & Courage☽☾

The premiere of ✨Phoebe's WIPs✨ who dis ? /lh

I thought that it'd be fitting if the first one I show you all is of Lord Ares !

As you can obviously tell, it's not nearly finished :') but I still think it's nice enough to share! Hope you like it <3 further down, I wrote down some notes on my design choices in case anyone is interested !!

NOW , my design notes :

I based the armor on ancient greek hoplites (though i obviously took some creative liberties ) , the floral imagery is supposed to be violets , since I associate them with him ( he doesn't have any sacred plants so this is upg ) . His main color is various shades of purple since I never really liked it when people solely put him in red :') plus it's a really nice color and I think it compliments the darker , more dull tones really nicely . My main inspirations come from his sacred birds , vultures & owls . I specifically associate Bearded Vultures with him ( e.g, the dark markings under his eyes and overall his eye color come from them ) . The hair strands that kinda look like ears on top of his head are a nod to the feather tufts of eagle owls , and I specifically ( tried to ) make him look younger since ancient Greek warriors were usually pretty young too . His helmet is horned as a way for him to match with his parents , who both have the horns of a cow / bull . The scales around his eyes and hands , as well as the claws, are referencing snakes & dragons who are sacred to him , as are the spikes on his greaves and the lower arm protection . The feathered " collar" is referencing Himalayan vultures, and the rest of the cape would have the patterns of an eagle owl mixed with a bearded vulture ^^ the cape maybe has the ability to turn into wings should he need them methinks ^^ also , i draw every Olympian with the golden laurel wreath behind them , as a way to show their status :3

( Also I MIGHT edit this post to include the finished drawing once I get it done )

( divider made by me <3 )

[gouraminnow]

Birds of a Feather

(Entirely platonic | SFW | Marco & OC) Marco the Phoenix is found by an orphaned harpy child that mistakes him for one of their own kind. It takes less than a day to commit to adoption- he really is taking after his father.

Warnings: Past world government/celestial dragon related incident, drugging/sedation. This is self indulgent fluff catered to me and exactly one other person she knows who she is. Hi <3

Marco had just wanted to stretch his wings. The winter island they’d all stopped at was beautiful- sloping hills, valleys and deep forests blanketed in thick snow, with the soft orange lights of the small town that had only recently sprung up. They weren’t going to be here very long- at least they didn’t plan on it. Apparently, there were some nice hot springs in more remote areas, and some of the others had asked him to see if he spotted them on his flight. Whether or not his brothers actually wished to commit to the hike when there was booze to be had in town was another matter, but he enjoyed the airtime anyway. The clear wintery skies were quiet and refreshing.

Cresting over a hill and peering down into a valley, he spots the stacked hot spring pools overlapping like fish scales.

But he also spotted something else.

When he swooped lower to get a look at the layered pools of the springs, he also noticed a small white shape- scampering through underbrush, between trees, trying to keep up with him despite being grounded. He can’t get a good look from up here- but whatever it is, it’s awfully little and makes no attempts to conceal itself. He dips again, going lower in an attempt to catch a glimpse of this thing- aiming for a clearing between some pools up ahead, he turns in a wide arc, flaring his wings out to catch the frigid air and slow his descent. He kicks up a healthy plume of snow when he lands, and takes a second to shake himself off. He stands still, arms still transformed into wings as he searches for any movement- though he doesn’t have to wait long. Something white and fluffy with bits of gray and black darts right toward him with a loud trill. He steps to the side, the tiny thing skidding right past him with an undignified squawk. 

The fluffy mess shakes itself off, and he’s met with the confused face of… some sort of little bird creature. It can’t be much taller than his mid-thigh. It wears no clothes, but it does have a leather shoulder bag. It’s covered from head to taloned toe in thick, downy feathers. It has wings instead of arms, but longer, more dextrous phalanges form three functional fingers at each wrist. Little black talons poke through a generous amount of unkempt plumage at both the feet and pseudo-hands, and the face- large, black eyes rimmed with orange, with bright blue circular markings on the cheeks, framed by a wild mane of… well, feathers, but it takes the place of hair. Two little tufts stick out on top of its head, not unlike the “ears” of a great-horned owl. They’re covered in gray and black stripes and speckles- impressive camouflage. He’s sure if the little beast had actually tried to be stealthy, he never would have noticed them. 

But it wasn’t. It was dead-set on getting his attention. It didn’t take a genius to be able to guess that it mistook him for its own kind. He furrows his brow, watching it shake itself off and look back up at him, releasing a quizzical chirp. His mouth presses into a firm line. This was… probably a harpy chick. While harpies were typically depicted with bare faces and torsos, this was a cold environment. Probably just a climate-specific adaptation- or maybe they’re completely feathered as babies and they’ll lose coverage as they age. It chirps at him again, taking a tentative step forward, and he sighs. He’s not sure what to do here. He’s unfamiliar with whatever this species is, and he doesn’t want to inadvertently upset some territorial parents. While the little one seems to think he’s one of them, it’s entirely possible the adults would know better. He looks around- scanning the treeline, the clearing, the sky- and finding no hint of any other presence, he turns back to the creature before him, who has been inching closer and closer. He holds their gaze for a moment. “Where’d you come from, little one?”

They blink up at him. One of their little ear tufts twitches.

“... Can you understand me at all?” He tries.

They tilt their head at him, a little chrrr chrrr chrrr sound bubbling out of their throat.

Inconclusive, but probably not.

With a low chuckle, he crouches down- and that’s when they strike. They launch themselves forward, tackling Marco with a shrill cry. “Woah there,” he says as they cling to his coat, little feet scrabbling frantically as they struggle to get themselves up on top of his bent legs, sitting themselves right down on his lap. They’re not shy at all about getting settled, curling up and nuzzling his chest with a sweet trill. Marco huffs. “Well, aren’t you affectionate, yoi?” he muses, shifting his wings back into arms. Gently, he wraps an arm around the creature, supporting their weight by pressing them against his chest as he sits down cross-legged, settling them back into his lap.

They don’t really react, just continuing to nuzzle against the man. They’re awfully happy to be here, aren’t they? His hands run through the downy, speckled feathers on their back and his mouth presses into a firm line. Checking them over, he finally realizes just how dirty and unkempt they are- specifically in spots they wouldn’t be able to reach on their own. There’s an uninterrupted strip of grimy, disheveled feathers interspersed with the waxy sheaths of developing pin feathers down their spine- when he pulls his hand away, there’s a thin layer of grime on his fingertips. 

“... Who’s taking care of you, kiddo?” He murmurs, only met with the happy, idle twittering of the creature in his lap. “You’re real excited to see me huh…” He’s not sure what to do. They very well could be an orphan, or even a case of a hatchling being ejected from the nest by a stronger sibling. Or they could just be very, very lost. Gently, he pushes the creature’s shoulders back, so they can look each other in the face. “Blink three times if you understand me,” he says, voice firm. They just stare, tilting their head a little bit. Marco sighs. The language barrier is a problem. He takes a second to think, letting the kid snuggle up again. How much this creature takes after regular birds was unknown but some things could be inferred. The eagerness with which they latched onto him suggested a social species- the state of their feathers suggesting flock members assisted each other in grooming. At least at this age, anyway. If this creature had parents, he needed to figure out how to locate them- but as of right now, he had no way of telling if that was the case or not.

 He’s pulled out of his thoughts when the creature begins to rummage through their little bag- producing what looks like two small, dried pieces of meat and then holding one up to his face. They chirp, smiling brightly, practically shoving it against his chin. He looks at the creature's wide eyes, then at the shriveled, burnt looking scrap they’re offering. When he doesn’t accept it immediately, their little face scrunches up, mouth settling into a pout. They pull away, maintaining eye contact, and pop one into their mouth. They make a loud, exaggerated display of chewing(with their mouth closed, thankfully) and swallowing with an audible gulp. Marco huffs, a lazy smile spreading across his face. As unappetizing as it looks, he can smell the char on it, so at least it's been thoroughly sterilized at this point. Not that contaminants were something he worried much about with his particular devil fruit, but some things are just a matter of principle. Dubious meat is dubious. But the display was awfully cute, and he’d hate to disappoint them, so when they slowly hold it out to him again, he plucks it from their talons and swallows it whole. He does briefly taste the char he suspected, but the big grin from the hatchling is worth it.

He ruffles their hair, and they eagerly lean into the gesture. But when he tries to pull away, they grab onto his hand, hopping to their feet and gently trying to tug him along with them. “Oh? Got something to show me?” He gets a series of chirps in response, and they keep tugging. Well, he’s got plenty of time. Might as well see where they want to take him- it's probably his best bet at answering some of his questions.

-

Marco casually follows behind the little bird as they lead him through the snow. He’d gotten them to let go of his hand- they were so short he had to awkwardly bend down in order for them to reach it, and walking like that was very uncomfortable. At one point during their little walk, they had turned back to him and twittered with a quizzical tilt to their head, before flaring their wings out. He raised a brow, and they just repeated the gesture. “Sorry, kiddo, not sure I get what you mean…” they huff, stomping their little feet- before pointing to him and flaring their wings out a third time. A light goes off in his head. Ah, that’s what it is, huh? With a dramatic flourish of blue flame, his arms bloom into wings. He flares them just like they had, flapping a couple times for good measure- disturbing the pristine snow around the two of them in a ten-foot radius. He seems to have gotten it right- they cheer loudly, hopping up and down and twirling in a circle. He can’t help but soften at the sight- he wasn’t a conceited man, but appealing to his ego certainly didn’t hurt. After the little display he just followed along, listening to them chirp and warble endlessly. They may not understand each other, but there was no doubt they were a chatterbox. 

It isn’t long before they come upon a sort of crevice between two tall pools, hidden away by some simple foliage. The little one slips right in, but it’s a bit of a tight squeeze for Marco. The first thing he notices is just how warm it is in the little cave. Makes sense to him- perfect place to make a den. The walls are a soft, reddish brown, working with the pleasant warmth to directly contrast the bitter chill outside. There are a few old wooden crates and cracked, scavenged pottery shoved against the walls of the cavern- the former of which store a variety of pilfered knicknacks, most notably packs of crayons and paints along with what looks like a coarsely-bristled brush tied to a long stick. There’s a nest further in, made of loose furs and old rags primarily- but just beyond that, on the far wall, countless drawings have been pinned up, rows of wobbly child-like sketches displayed right next to their bed. Stepping further, eyes gradually adjusting, he notices something else:

Tally marks.

Hundreds of them- tiny, shallow tick marks etched into every wall of the cave, reaching only a little higher than his knee. Something in him twists, as he crouches down to run his fingers against the clumsily scratched lines. These ones are organized in groups of seven, rather than five. 

He hears another trill, the rustling of papers- and he looks back to see the little one bounding toward him, holding a drawing up above their head with a grin. They shove the paper towards him with an excited cry, earning a chuckle from the man, who graciously accepts it, raising the yellowed material up for a closer look. He goes still, a tightness blooming in his chest. In a childish crayon scrawl, the colors bleeding past the wobbly outlines, are three figures. One is the child standing before him, who is currently excitedly hopping from foot to foot in silent anticipation. They draw themselves as little more than a speckled puffball with big eyes, blue cheeks and their distinct ear tufts. The second figure is bigger, standing to the left of the child. The stripes on this figure are darker, with some browns mixed in with the black and gray stripes. The markings are similar to the child’s, with the blue cheeks and orange-rimmed eyes, but with a few key differences- namely the large tail feathers, black tipped wings and feet, with a hint of that same blue on the undersides of the wings.The drawing is actually… really good, for a kid- there’s an impressive amount of detail put into recreating the distinct markings of their family.

The third figure… confirms some of his suspicions. It’s slightly smaller than the second, but still larger than the child. And the plumage of this adult is primarily a bright, brilliant blue, save for white patches on the belly and face. There’s a tightness in his chest as he holds the paper, eyes flitting to the ever-hopeful face of the child. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. If these harpies matched up with the same types of sexual dimorphism as many bird species, the brightly colored ones are probably the males. This is clearly a family portrait, but the little one’s parents are nowhere to be seen. And the tally marks on the wall don’t reach very high, nor do the drawings they’ve hung up- if they had someone older looking after them, more of that wallspace would probably be utilized. Do they think he’s just another harpy, or their dad specifically? Probably not- if they were able to draw out the markings their parents had, then they’re probably able to see the difference.

“Kid…” he starts, taking a step forward and crouching down. They seem to view this as an invitation, because just like last time, they launch forward and flail their way onto his lap. He sighs, circling an arm around their waist and standing back up. They barely weigh anything at all. He wonders if their bones are hollow.

Now carrying the child, he approaches the wall featuring the rest of the drawings. His steps reverberate around the small cavern, the harpy purring against his chest. He steps into their makeshift nest, settling down in the various pelts, blankets and cushions. It smells a little musty, truthfully… reminds him of the few times he’d entered Ace’s room.

He shakes the thought out of his head, instead focusing on the drawings the little one had made. It’s… a lot of drawings of other Harpies, some scribbly mountains and trees… one seems to depict a gathering of twelve, with a bonfire in the middle and the bird people taking turns roasting nondescript lumps on sticks. He’s sure it’s meant to be meat, as two of them do almost look like rabbit silhouettes. Another depicts the child in his lap playing in the springs with other harpy children- all drawn with sweet little smiles and those big, black dot eyes. All the drawings they’ve pinned to the cave wall are happy scenes with a loving flock that is nowhere to be seen. Many figures celebrating, playing together, hunting and cooking game… none depict a Harpy by itself, all of them groups of at least three. Going off of these, he was right in suspecting they’re part of a highly social species, raised as part of a crowded and attentive flock. Abandonment seems out of the question if these idyllic little pictures are to be believed- but regardless of the circumstances behind their isolation, this was clearly some sort of desperate coping mechanism. Hanging pictures of the family they missed dearly, right by where they sleep? Examining another drawing of adult harpies fending off some large, fearsome thing- mostly black scribbles, big sharp teeth and eyes- while the chicks watch from behind them- the idea of abandonment at the talons of these bird-folk feels like nonsense. He doesn’t want to say anything for sure when all he has to go off are these pictures, but some deep, small but sharp sting of instinct within him makes the suggestion of neglect feel utterly wrong. Something worse had happened, the phoenix was all but certain. His mouth presses into a thin line, and he can’t help but hold the poor kid a little tighter. 

They’re completely oblivious to the inner turmoil welling up inside him, interpreting the slight squeeze as deliberate affection. Their eyelids droop and their feathers puff up as they settle against his warmth. It isn’t long at all before they’re snoring softly in his lap… Marco sighs, idly petting the little bird monster as they doze. “You make it real hard not to get attached, huh, yoi…” He mumbles, gently scratching their chin. Hmm. He wants to check something. Thinking back to their little family portrait, he leans them back and gently unfurls one of their arm-wings. Most of the feathers are still soft and downy, but he catches hints of those iridescent blue patches the mother in the drawing had right under her armpits. Checking their wings, gently detangling as he goes, he catches no further glimpses of those vibrant pinfeathers, and concludes that the child is most likely female- though he is unfamiliar with the child’s age and how quickly their species develops, so he wouldn’t know for sure until all the baby feathers were gone. Judging by the little blue sprigs, it wouldn’t be long-

Marco blinks, stopping his train of thought. When had he started thinking as if this kid was going to live with him? He hadn’t even known them for a day. Suspicious circumstances and heartstring-pulling be damned, it’s far too early to be acting this way. The ideal way this all turns out is that their real family is located, and they’re left with their kind. In the best-case scenario, he’d never even see their adult plumage, having sailed on with his family after reuniting the child with their own. If he did take them with him, he would have to figure out their specific needs on the fly, such as diet, exercise, hygiene, sleeping habits… though at least the size of the crew was unlikely to bother them once they’d integrated, if the large social groups in their artwork were anything to go by. 

Marco sighs. It’s simple- he just needs to know more. And now is the perfect time, seeing as the little one is sleeping like… well, a baby. He sits up, hands raising to their shoulders to gently pry them off from where their claws dig in to the fabric of his coat- and god is the little puffball tiny, one splayed hand covering the width of their speckled back- but as soon as he tries to pull them away, he hears a sleepy little whine and their three-fingered hands bunch up the wool. He frowns- taking in the way their eyes move behind their lids, and the drooping of their ear-tufts. Ugh. Damnit, they’re far too cute for their own good.

With an exaggeratedly resigned sigh, he pulls them back in, the little one cooing contentedly as they snuggle back into the warmth of his chest. He takes a second to adjust, moving the sleeping chick up to a more comfortable position before swinging his legs over the nest’s edge and standing up. He'll just... carry them while he has a look around, since they're so attached. So, with the little chick tucked against his chest with one arm, he begins his search. Starting with the wooden crates off to the side, he’s careful- sinking into a crouch and resting the harpy in the gap between his chest and the tops of his thighs. He picks through- this one is primarily art supplies, as he observed before. Packs of wax crayons dumped into a smaller box, paintbrushes- most in poor condition, he observes, the chipped handle of one resting against his palm as his thumb rubs over the frazzled, uneven bristles spiking outward. There’s a ripped canvas with a broken frame slotted into the box- when he goes to lift it, some chalk falls from where it had likely been resting on the wooden struts. The soft clatter makes the hatchling twitch, but nothing else. There are a few paint pots at the bottom as well, but they’re mostly empty or dried out. Curiously, he finds a couple small rectangular boxes with hinged lids as well, no bigger than his palms. They’re made of a thin, light colored wood and they remind him of Izo’s makeup- a thought that proves its merit when he flips the lid up to reveal the brightly colored chalky substance they have packed away inside. This one has three colors- yellow, orange, and red, and there’s a small mirror tucked into the underside of the lid. Snapping it closed, he opens the other- a sky blue, a darker cobalt pigment, and a deep purple. Hmm. He puts the palettes back where he found them, and turns his attention to the sleeping kid again. Leaning back, he rubs a thumb against the bright blue cheek spot, then pulls it away. Nothing. Those markings were natural, then. Well, it was left at the bottom of the box. If it was something they used with any regularity it would’ve been easier to reach. But the idea of birdfolk adding a little extra pigment to their plumage is one that tickles him.

He doesn’t find much else of note. He examines the brush on a stick he had seen earlier, finds some tools such as knives and scissors. One box has netting, rope, and fishing line- a broken rod laying at the bottom in two pieces. There’s a hole in the floor closer to the entrance of the cave, covered with an old pot lid- when he opens it, he finds a rabbit, two wrapped fish, and a handful of berries in a cheesecloth resting in a bed of snow.

But then, looking back to the inside of the cave, his eyes catch something he’d missed, somehow. Peeking out from under the nest, are more scraps of paper- the crinkled, triangular corners overlapping each other. More drawings… moving back toward the nest, he crouches slowly, careful with the child as usual. Reaching out, he tugs the crinkled papers out from under the furs they’ve been hidden under-

His heart leaps into his throat. His hand, tightening its grip, further crumpling the thin material.

The first picture is of a ship bearing the familiar emblem of the world government, scribbled navy blue and white trim topped by the golden figurehead all world noble ships have. He doesn’t need to look at the rest to know this poor child really is alone. The rest of the hidden drawings, pulled out from where they’ve been shoved and unfolded by his deft hand, are devastating- not just because of the contents. All of them less precise, more frantically drawn, indents or even tears where the kid had applied too much pressure while coloring. Tiny pinprick stains of water damage, if he looks close enough. One drawing is just a large fire. In another, adults and children alike trapped under nets. One shows suited men shooting some of the creatures as the ridiculous bubble-headed celestial dragon oversees. And there was yet another, depicting the familiar bright blue-plumed male flying away with the baby in his talons, little dots as tears falling from their eyes.

No wonder they were so happy to see him. No wonder they could overlook the glaring differences between him and their own kind.

The little one shifts, and Marco realizes how hard he’s breathing. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he takes a moment to calm himself, for their sake- but it’s not easy. Well. He’d already wanted to take the little one with him. He didn’t see a world where Oyaji would say no, especially not once Marco told him everything. And if anyone else had an issue (though he doubted anyone would, other than the typical rational concerns when it comes to having a small child on a pirate ship), they would just have to deal with it. Marco was a commander, he did what he wanted.

But of course, he still has questions. In the brief time they’d spent in town, nobody had made any mention of harpies. He knows the small village is a very recent development- four years old, if he remembered right- is it possible that its presence is younger than the tragedy that befell the birdfolk? When visiting a new place with his family, local urban legends were quickly picked up on. Proud, hardworking folk like these often want others to be impressed with the places they call home- that’s why they’d put so much emphasis on the springs. It seemed odd that nobody had mentioned that this island once contained at least one whole flock of mythical creatures.

But looking at all the tally marks on the walls, the small, clustered groups of seven, seven, seven- he hadn’t counted them, but over four years of living alone looked very plausible if he assumed the kid counted accurately. Did… the kid know there was a human settlement? He would assume they did, but then again… the distance is a lot for someone so small. He only spotted the remote cluster of pools from the air, before he swooped down for a closer look. And all of their things look old, held together through improvised fixes- nothing new that would suggest they had stolen from town. Though if they did know of its presence, it was possible they avoided it on purpose. They only wanted Marco’s attention because he was a giant blue bird. They might not differentiate between world nobles and humans in general. With that in mind, he should be cautious with crew introductions.

Well, regardless of the kid’s relations (or lack thereof) with the other locals, they were coming with him. As well as he can using one hand, he gingerly stacks the previously hidden artwork, tapping it against the ground to line them up. He wishes he had some sort of folder… tucking them into his coat will have to do for now, so he slowly leans them back- prying their little fingers out of the grip they hold so he can unbutton the front enough to slide the papers in. Something to show the others- some sympathy for his cause wouldn’t hurt.

And with that, he lets himself partially transform- Wings, feet, tailfeathers. with a flourish of healing fire- that he washes over the child, just in case. She blinks, yawning- and he watches the flickering of his own flames in their dark, glassy eyes as they widen. They smile up at him with a chirp, and he returns it. “Have a nice nap, little one?” He croons. “How would you like to go on a little flight with me, yoi?” They twitter up at him, feathers puffing up. He sets them down on the floor- which they whine about, earning a laugh from him. He shifts from foot to foot before holding one up and making a grabbing motion with his talons. They perk right up- and sprint outside. Marco blinks, moving after them and squeezing himself through the jagged opening to their little hideout. That’s something he wasn’t looking forward to when he came back to pack up their belongings.

Out in the snow, the hatchling calls out to him- they’ve laid down on their belly, sinking into the powdery substance. He’s amused and impressed they got the message so fast. He thought he’d have to take a leaf out of their book and draw a picture of himself carrying them away. He approaches slowly, holding out one foot again- and when she doesn’t move, he slowly, gingerly wraps his talons around their midsection, the first of his three front toes resting just under the armpit. He tests his grip first, lifting them up while balancing on the other foot, which earns a giggle from them. It feels secure enough, and they don't seem uncomfortable. So using his free foot to propel himself upward, he flaps once, twice, and they’re off- Marco smiling widely at the excited trill they let out. While a little awkward to carry, they’re tiny and weigh nothing to him. They soar over the trees, and Marco climbs higher- even through the sound of the air rushing past his ears, he doesn’t miss the little gasp that escapes them once he’s gotten enough air to reveal the pinks and oranges of a horizon at sunset.

It doesn’t take long. His jaw clenches when he can feel their little body growing more and more tense, the closer he gets to the Moby Dick. When he begins his descent towards the deck, Oyaji and a few others in view- they emit a loud, piercing whine, starting to wriggle. He pulls up, wings flaring out to slow himself, and sticks the landing on one foot, balancing himself before gently setting the kid down with the other. They immediately latch onto Marco’s legs, feathers bristling in agitation. Whitebeard raises a brow, leaning forward in his seat. He’s still shirtless, despite the weather. “Marco,” he rumbles out in greeting. “What’s this you’ve brought to us?” He asks, gesturing to the cowering child clinging to Marco’s legs.

Some of the others have started to gather around, wanting to see what this is about. Marco sighs. First, he reaches into his coat for the bundle of artwork. “Tate, would you mind looking over these with Oyaji?” He asks, extending his arm to the nurse, who approaches slowly. He hands them off to the nurse, who is thankfully dressed for the weather unlike his father, and crouches down to try and dislodge the kid. They whine at him when he grips them by the shoulders, peeling them off of him to the amusement of his brothers. He flashes a quick glare to the men and their chuckling quiets down. “Come on kid, you’re fine, yoi” he chides, opting to lift them into his arms. They bury their face in his chest as he sits them on one arm, turning the other into a wing which he carefully folds around their trembling body. Hopefully, hiding them from view gives them a little security.

He looks back up to Tate, and to Oyaji- he’s leaning over her shoulder as the blonde woman examines each childish drawing, her face growing more troubled with each one. Oyaji keeps the same stony expression the entire time, save for the subtle narrowing of his father’s eyes. “This one spotted me flying, Oyaji. Chased after me from the ground.” He says, watching his old man’s eyes raise to meet his own. “... They think I’m one of them. They’ve been alone for a real long time, yoi. What you’ve got right there, that’s what happened to the rest.”

“These… these are awful,” Tate breathes, still fixated on the foreboding artwork. Marco nods, mouth set in a firm line. 

“Hmph. So you’re saying we’re keeping them, I take it?” the old man says, plucking one of the drawings from Tate’s hands and leaning back to examine it closer. 

Marco nods. “My responsibility, of course. The kiddo’s already… attached.” He sighs, feeling them shift against his chest. “They don’t speak any… human languages. I have no way of telling them that I am not what they think I am, yoi.”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the deck, Whitebeard’s stern gaze sinking to the wing concealing the tiny creature. “And you are certain there are no others of their kind left here?” He asks, the unspoken meaning clear. He is not unsympathetic- it’s the same thought Marco had. It would be better to reunite them with their species, if possible.

Marco nods once again. “They’ve been living in a small cave, and they’ve scratched hundreds of tally marks into the walls. I didn’t count, but it’s been years, yoi. I think…” he sighs, pausing for a second. “None of the townsfolk said anything about bird people. I think this event predates the existence of the village, and this child has managed to remain hidden all this time, yoi.”

His father regards him from a moment, a warmth in his eyes few others would have recognized. “Let me get a look at them. Only for a moment.” Marco nods, retracting his wing. The little one sits with their face buried in his chest, trembling. He nudges them. They whine. He sighs, leaning them back, patting their head with his free hand and gesturing to Whitebeard. They hesitantly turn their head, and he feels them tense when they meet eyes with the Yonko. The towering man gives them a small smile, but it doesn’t help much. They recoil into Marco, pitchy squeak leaving their throat. The Phoenix sighs, letting them latch onto him and covering them from view once more. “Well, that’s it, then.” Whitebeard grunts. “What d’you need?”

“Somebody find Thatch- I need him to whip something up for ‘em. Some meat, add a sedative- I’m going back to their little hideaway to pack their things while they sleep.”

-

Thatch is located, and is reportedly happy to assist. Marco had moved the little beast to his own room, since being around so many humans all of a sudden had utterly terrified the poor thing.He swaddles them in blankets, and intends to leave them in bed- but his face softens when a hand shoots out to cling to him once more. He sighs at the little one glaring at him from the bundle of fabric. “I know, I know,” he coos. “I wish you understood me,” he laments, lifting their swaddled form into his arms. “But this is a good thing, yoi. We’re going to take care of you.” He makes his way over to his desk, opting to at least read over some reports while he waits for Thatch. Settling the child in his lap, he picks up some papers and leans back. 

A bit of guilt creeps up the back of his throat- the poor thing is still trembling. They aren’t being deliberately affectionate like they were before- no chirping, no squeaking, no nuzzling. Just laying where he put them. He sighs, using his free hand to rub their back. They don’t do anything, other than shift slightly. 

It doesn’t take long before he hears three knocks at his door- making the kid flinch. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, patting them softly before speaking up louder. “Come in.” Thatch enters, carrying a  covered platter on one hand.

“Hey, Marco!” the chef beams, strutting inside and setting the food down on the little corner table. The child clings to Marco’s chest tighter, at the sound of his voice. “Heard the big news- fatherhood is gonna look great on you, papa bird~” he teases in a sing-song voice. Marco rolls his eyes, adjusting the kid and standing up to face his crewmate. Thatch’s face softens when his eyes fall onto the bundle in Marco’s arms. “Aw. Still upset, huh?” He says, considerably more subdued now.

“Yeah,” he affirms, patting the bundled creature on the top of the head. “Can’t blame the poor kid- they don’t understand a word we say, so it’s not like I can do much to reassure them, yoi.”

Thatch sighs. “Well, I got the message,” he says, one hand on his hip as he removes the lid with a flourish. The child doesn’t move, but Marco can hear them sniffing. Thatch prepared various types of meat, cut into thin strips, arranged almost like a charcuterie board. There’s a peeled orange and some mixed berries as well. “I’ve got some cured meats, fruits, and I grilled a bit of pork- that’s what's got the sedative in it. Thought about doing chicken, too, but y’know…” He gestures vaguely, and Marco snorts with a shake of his head.

“Thanks, Thatch. And don’t leave just yet, alright?” He says, sliding into a chair. Thatch pulls up one of his own right across from them.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of ‘em, anyway. Everyone up top is gossiping.” He smiles, leaning back and propping a foot up on the opposing knee.

Marco returns the smile. “It’s your lucky day, then. You’ll be the first crewmate I introduce, yoi.” If he wants the kid to learn that the others won’t hurt them, the chef is a good place to start. He pries their little talons out of his shirt, shushing the undignified whine the action draws from them. He pulls the blanket down so it’s bunched around their waist, and spins them in his lap to face the tray of food. Thatch’s eyes widen, and a soft gasp falls from his lips. 

The kid regards him warily, leaning back against Marco’s chest. Their ear tufts are drooping back, and their talons find their way to the arm around their waist. “Hey there, little one. Oh, aren’t you cute?” Thatch greets, offering a small wave and a reassuring smile. “I heard all those brutes upstairs gave you a scare, huh? Poor thing,” he coos, before pushing the platter closer. They tense, but lean forward, sniffing the air. “Go ahead, kiddo, all yours.”

The hatchling is hesitant. Their little hands rise from Marco’s forearm, and both men watch their fists clench and unclench. When they turn back to look at Marco, their little face is scrunched up in worry- even if he can’t see their eyebrows through their thick, messy hair, he can tell they’re drawn tight. He gives them a relaxed smile, and slowly reaches out to pluck a piece of salami off of the plate. He makes sure they’re looking when he eats it, chewing slowly. He nods to Thatch. “You eat something too, yoi,” he says. The other man nods, opting for an orange slice. The kid’s little ear tufts perk up, just a little, and they lean forward. Some of the apprehension is beginning to melt away, but they still aren’t going for it. They look nervously back and forth between both men, head swiveling on their little neck. So Marco reaches out again- another piece of meat in his hand, holding it to their mouth as they had done to him. Slowly, they lean forward, biting the edge, and Marco lets go. It doesn’t even take a full second for the kid to realize how good it tastes, snapping it up instantly. They chew, swallow, lick their lips, go to reach for another-

And they freeze, just shy of touching the food. Marco could groan, but he doesn’t. Thatch gives the kid a nod, and when they look back to Marco, he does the same. Their dark glassy eyes go wide for a second. They pick up a blackberry, looking at both men for any reaction before eating it. This repeats a couple of times before they finally give in and start eating like the damn place is on fire, much to Thatch’s delight. The cured meats and fruits are snapped up in a flash, the thin prosciutto torn to shreds as they indulge. The pork is a bit chewier, taking them a little longer, but they eat everything before the drug even starts to set in. They’re licking their talons clean when Thatch pulls the platter back, and stands up. “Well, that was impressive,” he muses, smiling down at the child. They don’t cower against Marco anymore, instead leaning forward to chirp quizzically at the tall man. “Yep, I’m talkin’ to you, honey,” he laughs. “You’ll give Ace a run for his money, I know it.”

“Hope so. All of this is fluff, they’re a scrawny little thing underneath, yoi” Marco chuckles, rubbing the top of their head, relaxing when they lean up into his touch again. He was right. Food is a good way to help most creatures feel secure. 

“What do you need hope for? You know I won’t disappoint! They certainly seemed to like it, didn’t they? Oh, just look at them,” Thatch coos, watching as their eyes squint in satisfaction. 

The two speak a little longer, Thatch telling Marco that word had spread quickly. Oyaji had already given them a nickname, referring to them as “Pipsqueak” and sternly instructing his sons to leave them be for now. Marco told Thatch more about his encounter in turn- the way they’d exuberantly tackled him, the cave, the way the happy drawings had been pinned up by their bed- that particular detail had him dramatically slapping a hand over his heart. “Sent off to find some hot springs, and you come back with an orphan. You’re really taking after the old man, Marco.” He says with a sly smile. It doesn’t take too long for the kid to start nodding off- after around five minutes, there’s a big yawn, and they’re snuggling up to Marco again. He wraps an arm around them, gently preening their wings with his fingers. The speckled little creature all but melts against his chest.

“I think that’s your cue to get going, yoi,” he says.

Thatch sighs, dramatically slapping his hand over his heart. “So it is… how cruel.”

“Oh don’t pout about it, yoi. I actually let you see ‘em didn’t I? And you’ll be bringing them plenty more meals, I’m sure.”

“Of course I will! I’m aiming for the title of Favorite Uncle, after all!”

“You’ll have some stiff competition, yoi.”

“I’m a chef, my dear brother,” Thatch beams, spreading his arms. “Kids love food. Everybody loves food. I like my odds.”

Marco wouldn’t say it, but he did, too. Instead he just smiles, lifting the child into his arms. They rub a blue cheek against his chest, eyelids fluttering. “Yeah, yeah. Now go, yoi. Shoo. I’m sure I’ll be up shortly.” Thatch chuckles, gazing tenderly at the child before shaking his head. As his weathered hand grips the brass door handle, he shoots his brother a knowing smirk.

“You sure you’ll be back in time for them to wake up? I’m a busy man, but I’d be happy to keep an eye on-”

“I said shoo, yoi! Get on with it!”

Thatch laughs, the door swinging closed behind him with a creak. Marco sighs, shaking his head, but he’s still smiling. Turning his attention back to the kid, he holds them closer and stands up from his seat. He listens to their soft breathing, trying not to let the patch of drool seeping through his shirt bother him. He sets them down on the bed, carefully unwrapping the blanket to tuck them in properly. He lays them against the pillow, huffing at their drowsy face, their mouth still hanging open. He pulls the blanket up to their chin, patting them on the head. They nuzzle into his pillow, sigh, and quickly slip into slumber.

He stays for a moment, warm hand resting on top of their head as they doze. “Big day for you hmm?” He muses. It didn’t take long at all for him to commit to this, did it? He wishes they understood him. That he didn’t have to do things like this. But at the very least, his intentions were altruistic, and the child suspected nothing. And when they woke up, they’d have all their drawings hung up within view of their new nest.

[the-trinket-witch]

700 Follower Special AU Just for You All!

Co-authored by @squidwen (All borders provided by CafeKitsune)

Inspirations: The Rescuers/Rescuers Down Under, Great Mouse Detective, Lady and the Tramp, The Aristocats, Oliver & Company, Bolt, Princess and the Frog, etc.

CW: Exploitation, child endangerment. (NOTE: No NSFW elements will be referenced or alluded to, nor will this AU allow such elements to be included.)

The world is a dangerous place. Hazards occur naturally or otherwise on a daily basis, people fall through the cracks in society; it seems like the most that ‘kindness’ affords is the attention of those willing to take advantage of it. 

And this attention seems to be currently directed…at Yuu. 

Yuu is still young, likely no more than 12. In a world that seems to have it out for Yuu, the orphanage is maybe the last bastion of safety until The One comes walking through to officially make them a part of their family. But again, it’s been 12 years, so none can blame them if that hope is starting to wane.

Dire Crowley touts himself as a generous, benevolent caretaker; which is a funny way to say ‘Neglectful’ and ‘Exploitative’. Yuu doesn’t get a chance to find this out until after the whirlwind that was their adoption settles. The man seems to care more about appearances, and where his next hefty payout will come from. So then it falls on Yuu to keep the home looking presentable, Crowley looking generous, and the indentured servitude swept under the rug. 

Not all attention is bad, though. Unseen by human society, the Animal Kingdom keeps its eyes trained to lend a claw out to the vulnerable. The National Rescue Conglomerate, or NRC, are a group of animals from all across Twisted Wonderland who answer the call for help wherever they hear it. The Seven Delegates may not agree on everything, but the one thing they can agree on is that someone will answer a call of distress. 

Said Delegates are:

Riddle → Hedgehog with a prickly temper

Leona → Lion who only seems lazy until the going gets rough

Azul → Coconut Octopus that has quite the reach of influence

Kalim → Otter trying to do more for himself than just float along

Vil → Peacock who’s fanning out to teach a new generation of Rescuers

Idia → British Blue cat who rarely ‘paws’es his games for anything

Malleus → Komodo Dragon with a reputation as fearsome as his fantasy counterpart

Other Members of the NRC/characters include:

Queendom of Roses Representatives

Deuce → Rabbit with a penchant for perfectly timed traps

Ace → Flamingo who’s sleight-of-feather makes for a great distraction

Trey → Tortoise that always has something cookin’ under that shell

Cater → Butterfly so social, he’s heard everything

Sunset Savannah Squadron

Ruggie → Hyena willing to laugh in the face of danger

Jack → Wolf with an affinity for leading the pack

Coral Sea Set

Jade and Floyd → Moray Eels more than happy to put the squeeze on trouble

Scalding Sands Squad

Jamil → Cobra with words that have plenty of bite of their own

Pyroxene Posse

Epel → Cygnet learning how to navigate the world with grace

Rook → Seagull with a keen eye for detail

Lamentation Isle League

Ortho → Electronic Toy Mouse that knows when and when not to play around

Briar Valley Vanguard

Lilia → Vampire Bat with adopted kids and a lot of history under his wings

Silver → Squirrel that doesn’t find himself usually one for chatter

Sebek → Crocodile with enough heft to tip the scales in his favor

Shaftland Animal Sanctuary

Niege LeBlanc → A Human running an animal sanctuary with his Seven Adoptive Fathers

But even with their help, Yuu won’t be completely out of the woods. Crowley keeps a few ‘pets’ he’s willing to deploy to get them back:

Sam → Poison dart frog

Ashton → Stag

Crewel → Dalmatian

Trein → Owl

Who might be the ones to help rescue Yuu from their situation, and what might happen from there? Will it be smooth sailing once out from under Crowley or will there be others out looking to get Yuu in their clutches? Would they try to return to their orphanage? Maybe their story ends in the joining of a family that actually has their interests in heart? Do they forgo humanity altogether and just live among the animals that so cared for them up until this point?

This AU was built with the immense patience and help of Squidwen. We offer it out to you all as a sort of ‘Follower Milestone’ gift for everyone, since I recently reached 700 folks following me. What we are offering in this AU is:

A chance for you all to throw your OCs in to see how they handle trouble in the form of a real-world animal. Be it through art, writing, roleplay with your friends, This post and AU is more or less a sandbox for folks to play around in!

I’ll be occasionally posting pics depending on what I see/find time to doodle. For reference FOR those doodles, below both Squidwen and I have found where each of our own OCs fit into this general world:

DeVerre and Eugenio → Orphans from the same institution, ‘adopted’ by Crowley to be sold to the highest bidder. 

(Squidwen’s OCs)

Verrick → White Persian Cat (Wears a tailcoat).

Seth → Giant Pacific Octopus (Needs a pipe that blows bubbles)!!

Tallis → Hummingbird (Wears a belt and aviator goggles).

Billy → Black Bear (Wears a snorkel parka hood).

Basil → Burmese Python (still has his purple pince-nez, and maybe a legwarmer around his throat)

(Trinket’s OCs)

Albert → Fox (wears a carf)

Tidus → Giant Mudskipper (Big ol’ glasses)

Lázaro → Xoloitzcuintle (skele birthmarks)

Levi → Rock Lobster (blue markings)

Galen → Stray Mutt (hat/poncho or bandana)

Of course, with Protagonists, there usually are antagonists (all of which for this AU are human):

Rebekya Balanaga (Squidwen)

The prim, pale owner of the modeling agency Pearls of Ophenheim. DeVerre especially catches her eye. The girl has unusual silver hair and very pale skin; something that’ll cause a fuss and stir attention in magazines, she hopes. Heels, camera angles, and a ton of make-up, and no one will be able to tell that a child is working for her.

→ She has a pet albino python called Princess.

Honest John and Gidel

Just two, hardworking fellas on the look out for their next employee or circus act. Children make excellent workers, especially those who don’t have much. Yuu is especially of interest to them, given how dextrous they seem. Would they make a good trapeze artist? Or contortionist - given the right training? Or, heck, maybe they’d be happy to just do all the menial tasks around Playful Land, right?

Aadesh Sona and Mr Rajesh Khan (Trinket)

These gentlemen are vital when it comes to producing anything. Animal-testing is the aim of the game for these two, but at times, testing on animals can prove slow, and even a waste of time. Why test chemicals on rabbits and mice when you can just skip to human trials? And since DeVerre and Yuu have been “adopted” by Crowley, no one will stop to ask where they are.

→ Aadesh and Mr Khan as well have their own pets. Basil the Burmese Python being Aadesh's, and a tiger named Shakti. 

As for our own OCs, Eugenio and DeVerre do manage to escape from Crowley’s clutches; with the help of the orphanage cat: Verrick. He sensed something was off with Crowley the moment he stepped through the door. Fearing for the children’s safety, he calls a meeting with the NRC to discuss saving them.

Both of us hope you'll enjoy the premise and find a bit of fun coming up with little scenarios for your OCs to get into. I specifically want to say how grateful I am to have 700 of y'all following for TWST content or the like and I hope to offer more fun things in either interactions, chats, or lil doodles of our characters doing stuff. I esp. wanna thank Squidwen for the help in concocting this whole thing. It's been so much fun to RP with ya and look forward to writing even more UvU

TAGLIST:

@ceruleancattail @squidwen @thecosmicjackalope @vaporvipermedia @writing-heiress

@oya-oya-okay @k-looking-glass-house @thehollowwriter @rainesol @cyn-write

@heartscrypt @br3adtoasty @jackiecronefield @ruggiethethuggie

@hoboyherewego @achy-boo @oreoskys @oseathepebble @oathofoaks

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@tixdixl @prince-kallisto

[another-lost-mc]

The Wild Side was so adorable and my heart wouldn’t be able to take it if you wrote something for the other characters (and Azra!) Maybe their animals from the Magical Eggs event would work, but I’d love to see your take, too.

a/n: I’m using the dateables’ onesies for their animal inspiration. I wouldn’t put it past solomon to jinx them somehow during a sleepover.

the wild side: slumber party edition | the dateables + azra

1k words | sfw | more silly fluff + humor

cw: relationships can be romantic or platonic in nature (your choice) except for luke, he is our baby brother and must be protected at all costs.

Lucifer arrives at the Demon Lord's Castle with little fanfare. You were supposed to be having a slumber party with Diavolo and the residents of Purgatory Hall, and he incorrectly assumed there was no possible way things could go wrong. He started receiving a series of alarming messages from staff at the castle that something strange was going on. He hears a disturbance as soon as he lets himself inside the main entrance hall. A loud ruckus coming from the ballroom, typically used to host the young prince's lavish parties, draws his attention. He opens the door and is completely stunned, shocked into silence by the chaos he finds within...

The Dragon (Diavolo)

It's a minor miracle that he's not a full-sized dragon. He's a bit smaller than Cerberus is and the ballroom is spacious—he has plenty of room to stretch his wings.

Judging by the scorch marks across the ballroom's marble flooring, he hasn't figured out how to control his flames yet.

(As soon as Lucifer walked into view, Diavolo snorted happily through his nose. He shot flames across the room and another set of curtains is currently on fire.)

Diavolo's still aware of his size and potential danger. He does his best to keep away from you and Luke who are at the greatest risk of being stepped on.

His scales are very warm to the touch. Barbatos can't land on him without injuring himself, so he squawks angrily at his young master from a safe distance.

He was excited to host this little sleepover for everyone to watch some new movies together, but he thinks this is even better!

The Owl (Barbatos)

He's very anxious, but you can tell he looks at you differently vs. the way he looks at Diavolo Solomon everyone else...

He doesn't believe in regicide, but Diavolo is going to be punished severely after this. And Solomon, too—this is his fault!

(Being a dragon is no excuse for his master to engage in such reckless destruction. He's going to burn down the whole castle at this rate!)

The Little Ds are enjoying this far too much and slacking off on their duties while they watch the madness unfold. The least they could do is help put out these wretched fires...

Barbatos doesn't seem to be nearly as intimidating in this smaller form. Diavolo rolls his eyes when he hoots at him, and the Little Ds keep tugging on his tail feathers teasingly and dashing away.

(If they think he's going to forget this, they're sorely mistaken.)

He gives up on trying to reign in the mayhem and tries to stick close to you instead. You're so small and fragile in your little sheep form, he worries the others might hurt you by accident. He pecks at them to remind them to be gentle.

When everything gets too overwhelming, he flies up and rests on one of the sconces on the wall or the chandelier.

(He nearly falls to the floor when the magic spell finally fades away mid-flight, and that makes him even angrier.)

The Panther (Simeon)

His main concern is keeping an eye on you and Luke. It's amusing to watch the others though; he's content to stick to the edges of the room and observe the chaos.

This is actually great inspiration for a new novel! Or maybe he should try writing a children's book. You would make a cute main character!

He carries Luke somewhere safe when he inevitably falls asleep from all the excitement.

(Solomon and Azra get so distracted picking fights with each other that Simeon picks you up by your collar and carries you to where Luke is sleeping. He curls around your little sleep pile protectively until the spell wears off.)

The Red Panda (Luke)

He's too small to get into too much trouble, but he has a surprising amount of fun—probably the most fun out of everyone, except for Diavolo.

He's not used to having a tail and he trips on it a few times by accident when he runs too fast. He swears that Simeon chuckles in a weird, cat-like way when he falls on his face with a growl.

He follows you around the ballroom, but the other animals are so much scarier bigger than he's too nervous to get close to them.

There are still trays of desserts on the table from dinnertime, and he helps himself to some sweets.

(The spell and abundance of sugar knocks him out cold in less than an hour.)

The Wolf (Solomon)

He didn't mean for this to happen, but he's going to enjoy it while it lasts.

He saunters around, swishing his fluffy white tail and showing off his stunning wolf form for you to admire. For some reason, you don't seem that impressed.

You squirm and glare at him when he tries to kiss lick your face, too.

He lays down and rolls over, hoping that you'll curl up with him because his fur is so warm and perfect to snuggle in.

Maybe you're just shy? The hellhound won't leave you alone but Solomon's not sure he can take him on in a fight...

(Really, can't he enjoy your company for once without one of the demons butting their nose where it doesn't belong?)

The Hellhound (Azra)

You said this was supposed to be a fun little sleepover. He even put on that stupid onesie you bought him because you're cute when you pout you said it would be more fun this way. This was supposed to be a chance for him to get to know your friends—and now he's stuck as a dog!

You weren't immune to the mysterious magic either, and you and the young angel are the tiniest animals here. He's extra-vigilant about trying to keep the others away from you; he's scared they're going to hurt you by accident.

(He's never seen this side of Diavolo before, and he hates to admit how much fun it is watching the young prince set half the ballroom on fire while he shoots fireballs at random objects for target practice.)

He's very agitated when Solomon tries to approach you. That damn wolf keeps stalking you around the room with a hungry glint in his eye.

You don't seem happy with either of them when they start growling and snapping at each other and he's already thinking about how to make this up to you later.

(Maybe when this is over, he can convince you to go back home with him.)

read more: the demon brothers version | obey me masterlist

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

so I'm currently working on redesigning the dragons from the "wings of fire" series because the lack of traits catered to their individual environments bothers me. I've made it through a few rough drafts of potential changes, but I'm currently working on IceWings(aka dragons that live in what's basically the arctic tundra) and I'm not as well-versed in animals from cold climates vs other climates. so I'm currently thinking:instead of scales(or potentially on top of scales? I'm unsure if this is possible with the scales present, so)I'd give them thick, textured fur that provides both heat and a little bit of reinforcement against attackers, as well as some amount of fat as an additional way to maintain body heat. however, this leaves me with one question:how would I go about keeping their wings warm enough to function? would adding feathers be enough or would they need additional adaptations? this is a very very rough draft of what's going on with them so it's definitely up for changes(I'm mostly going by vibes for these first designs so I don't get demotivated), but I would like to know if it'd be possible to give them at least somewhat usable wings or if I'm going to have to rework this idea(and also if this idea is generally decent or if I've completely forgotten how cold-weather animals work lol)

since they are reptiles, I actually think they'd more likely be feathered than furred. We know that many prehistoric dinosaurs had feathers, after all, and birds are still counted in the reptile family, though they are warm blooded.

here's a neat little article about the relationship between scales and feathers:

birds that live in cold climates will even have feathers all the way down to their toes.

(image description: stock photo of a snowy owl's feet, which are covered in downy feathers. end description)

as for the wings, you could do something like the yi qi, one of my favorite prehistoric animals, which is speculated to have had both feathers and wing membranes, with the feathers possibly being on the main "arm" of the wing. It's also possible these cold weather dragons have developed into endothermic creatures, rather than being ectothermic. (warm blooded instead of cold blooded) so the bloodflow through their wing membranes is what keeps them warm and limber. they'll have a lot of veins through their wings.

feathers are amazing at keeping the cold out because of the way they layer over each other and have more fluff closer to their roots, which acts as an insulation layer.

[alebrijediscordico]

i'll clean this up + do more doodles tomorrow but. thems

also, lore under the cut just to ramble n also so i dont forget

ok so, in the side of the pines, specifically starting from stanley n stanford's, they come from a multianimalia family, aka all that has to do with weird mixes or creatures, like sphinxes, impossible hybrids, draconeus (was that the word ? the shit thats discord from mlp), minotaurs, and part animal part Thing creatures, but specifically natural, raw materials, like rocks, minerals, vegetation, etc.

from then i made it so stanley is a lion gargoyle sphinx, with some patches of fur but only in the belly area and tail. everything else is made of stone or mineral-like scales, including the mane and the horns. wing's are like a bat, but it has scales on top of them a lil so it Looks like they were feathers.

stanford is a "dragon" snow leopard sphinx.. his rarity is not only the 6th finger, but that his "dragon" part is actually a dinosaur's. a recessive gene from Million of years back giving him velociraptor legs with those big claws. wings are from a mexican striped owl's with lil claws-thumbs bc of the dyno part

shermy ends up as a lynx satyr with deer antlers bc of more bs recessive genes

whoever married him later on comes from a family that has some kind of connection to the stars—which is the reason on this version of the au for dipper to have that birthmark. and actually, mabel gets one too on her back.

anyways, the kid of those two marry someone from a purely centaur family, so Thats where all comes in, making mabel a unicorn-kelpie, kinda? second name comet, and dipper a bear-deer

(and extra note, the kelpie part of mabel is what the pure unicorn uses against her to not deem her worthy in that one episode where they need the unicorn hair. and dipper's insecurity comes from ppl poking at the fact that he's part deer. and his lil bear ears)

[prehnite-soul]

*throws him at ya'll*

Notes: (Warning: Mentions of brief SH)

His 'tears' are scars, where he scratched the white fur (I’ll explain the fur later) off his cheeks. It will only partially regrow at times (the more fur; the more stable he is, aka the less scratching he does, etc.)

His 'soul' is a moonglobe that he tinkered with as he experimented with his magic. It's rather unstable, and when he tried a certain experiment, the globe became tangled to his magic.

'Chara'/'Player' does not exist in this AU/MV. Rather, it's his animus magic corrupting his sense of 'good'/'bad'.

In my designs, Icewings are descendent from Sky- and Seawings; they have white, hollow hairs rather than scales, and black skin like polar bears. Most also develop feathers during the polar night; high ranking members of Icewing society will pluck those feathers due to the fact they don't need the additional isolation due to living in better isolated houses/palaces. Firn used to pluck all his feathers, but when his magic corrupted, he stopped keeping up his appearances to better blend in with 'common' Icewings.

Firn is a type of snow; it is formed under the pressure of overlying snow by the process of compaction, recrystallization, localized melting, and the melting of individual snowflakes. This process takes about a year (it also took Nightshade a year to find Firn after he fled his kingdom).

He'll hold humans as pets, rather than cats. For all who don't know; In WoF, humans, aka two-legs, are seen as a foodsouce, and the only prey that can kill a dragon. They are rarely held as pets, and often regarded as pests.

The segmented wings help him fly completely silent, like an owl.

The blue spots are spots were his feathers would grow during polar nights.

'Normal' Icewings have feathers and spikes on their tail to help them with turns and flying in general. Firn hatched withut such a tailfin, making it hard for him to fly. He is able to fly and turn, just not as good as others might. He prefers to sneak up on his victims from above due to that, using his ability to fly silently.

[arredusworld]

Loongs speculative biology is breaking me a little bit

im adding Loongs (Chinese dragons) to Arredus right, cuz they look cool, are cool, and i refuse to be euro-centric in my fantasy worlds

problem, the way i want to go about it is ruining my life (hyperbole), see part of Arredus is to have implied speculative evolution to back up the speculative biology, and Loongs are making that really hard

lets examine this depiction, scales are seen along side whiskers on the snout, spikes along the back, (presumed) feather coverage on the tale and face, and ears

this creates some issues, see the scales assert that this is a reptile of some kind, the (presumed) feathers make it likely that this is a dinosaur, but thats a guarantee, maybe lizards on Arredus have feathers, maybe its in the class of true dragons, or maybe those arnt feathers at all, and are instead real weird scales, tho considering all the more detailed art ive seen depicts it as fluffy-

-like this, <sidenote, there is so much ai slop of eastern mysticism out there> and while i acknowledge this is a modern piece of art, it appears to be representative of wat ppl think Loongs look like

<another sidenote, some art depicts the dragon with horns but this is inconsistently done so whether its s thing is up in the air>

one more thing b4 i begin speculating is that this project has no respect for modern preconceptions of the fantasy u know and love, only science and even thats a vague impression, so if that means making pegasus a dragon that convergently evolved to look like equines with wings, so be it

with that said lets get into my ideas for how to get this thing to exist at all, firstly lets talk environmental pressures, Loongs are suppose to be water gods of some sort and closely tied to alligators, turtles, and fish, so it is semi-aquatic, and being from china in our world, its likely accustomed more specifically to lush jungle environments

next lets talk niche, every animal in an ecosystem has a niche, wats this guys, well clearly its an apex predator, i dont think this needs much elaboration

next is its behaviors, and again i think its fairly intuitive to say Loongs are ambush predators, like cats and alligators, also most likely making it a solitary animal

finally for the hard part ive been procrastinating on all post, wat friggin animal is this at all, the first thots are obviously a reptile of some kind, if the non scaly bits are feathers, than its a dinosaur, most likely a dragon, however his native land is in Lushia, a continent with very little reptiles at all

another option is to make the Loong a mammal of some kind, maybe a monotreme, which would make it fairly distinct and also give me more freedom to be creative, or a feline, very similar in lifestyle of a jaguar (reminder that these nightmare animals are not only good but happy swimmers)

the issue i run into repeatedly is that no answer makes me happy, while a feline is my fave of the choices, it raises more questions for me, why is its snout so long, is the "scales" just fur pattern? or did this feline specifically evolve armadillo fur, if so why, if its a monotreme, wat does that mean at all, its a neat idea and allows it to lay eggs still but is that all that important? do all monotremes have beaks? does the Loong? is it bioluminescent like platypuses? if its a reptile, why is it one of the few on this continent? it didnt fly over like the dragons did, unless this is a dragon who lost its wings, if so why? why not evolve fin like wings to help swim like sea serpents? if its not a dragon, wat reptile is it? it has to be a dinosaur of some kind thats where feathers are from, but its clearly not any other dino other than a dragon, which circles us bacc around, and wat about them ears, are they false ears like the horns on a horned owl? if so why did it evolve that other than to look cool? does it even look that cool?

in short the Loong is making me tear loong strainds of hair out of my head, so here poll, decide ur thots and please tell me more in the replys/notes/watever else you wanna use to communicate with me

[benjen-mormont]

𓆰𓆪 THE GOAL I WAS AIMING FOR WAS THE WRONG ONE 𓆰𓆪

(Starter with @thefallenprincesss)

The first time it happened, Benjen was five, tossing and turning beneath the heavy canopy of his bed, feeling trapped like a small, restless bird. Outside his window, an owl cut through the winter breeze, its eyes like small suns piercing the night. Benjen thought he had fallen asleep. That night, he dreamed he was that owl, wings spread wide against the frost biting at his feathers.

From then on, the dreams came and went. When he felt cornered, he was a bird—sometimes an owl, sometimes a raven, flitting through the shadows. When his parents argued, he became a wolf, bristling in defiance. If his father scolded him, he was a bear, claws bared. If his sister woke from nightmares, he was a fox, swift and clever, ready to slip between the shadows to keep her safe.

But that winter, the dreams drained him. Benjen lost so much weight the maesters grew concerned; he barely ate and spent long hours asleep, slipping into visions that seemed to wear him down. His mother tried to reassure him, but she would smooth his hair with trembling hands, speaking of bad omens. The dreams turned darker. One night, he became a beast that tore through soldiers who insulted his mother—called her mad, weak, unable to bear the lord proper children. In his dream, he ripped them apart as if they were made of paper, staining the snow crimson with their blood. He could still taste it on his lips when he awoke.

After that, Benjen tried not to dream.

His father, Lord Edryk Mormont, was more legend than man—his rage so fierce that mothers warned their children of him, a monster prowling through the halls of their own home. Lady Melantha reminded her children that war needed men like him, but her eyes always seemed wary, her words edged with dread. Lord Mormont had no warmth, no love to spare among the fires that burned in his chest.

Then came that spring night, when Lord Mormont dared to struck Lady Mormont. Benjen crept away into the woods, not to dream but to escape. There, he found a massive bear prowling in the shadows. His senses sharpened as his eyes turned white and fierce. He was aware of every stone and twig beneath his paws as he moved, one step after another, toward the keep.

That night, Lord Mormont died in anger, just as he had lived.

Benjen didn’t need to dream after that. He was wide awake. The warging—skinchanging, the Maesters called it—was as much a curse as a gift. The longer he spent in another creature’s skin, the harder it became to remember how to be human. Benjen wasn’t sure if his ferocity, his fierce protectiveness, had always been a part of him or if it was something borrowed from the animals he inhabited.

Still, he had no intention of sitting idle as doom crept across the North.

Birds, snakes, bears, seals. He wondered, briefly, if there was a limit to the shape he could take. What was a Targaryen if not a man? What was a dragon if not a lizard? The Dragonpit wasn’t difficult to infiltrate. The guards barely glanced at a the second in command walking with purpose. The dragon’s heat reached him before he saw it, rising like a furnace from the cavernous darkness. Benjen drew closer, his breath catching as he focused on the scaled beast. If he just concentrated—if he could feel it, the way he had felt the bear, the raven, the wolf—

A startled sound called his eyes up.

“Princess Rhaenya,” Benjen straightened, forcing himself to look casual despite the wild thrum of his heart. “I didn’t know you were awake, it’s quite late…”

[crystaltoa]

My take on the Turaga Nui, from Shauni's (@legend-as-old-as-time) WIP fic set in Rags' (@magicalgirlmascot ) KNPS AU. Snippets of the fic here and here.

In which the Turaga form a fusion in order to defeat the Rahi Nui, but their past experience with the Hordika venom results in the Turaga Nui taking on a somewhat ...unexpected form. After the battle, the Toa Mata catch up with them. Pictured here is Lewa having the appropriate reaction to finding out his six mentors have turned into some kind of weird dragon-chimera-kaiju thing.

Some design notes under the cut:

The Turaga Nui's form combines traits from the forms the Metru had as Toa Hordika, known in this universe as the Kini Nui werebeasts. So, this was my take on them individually here:

(The Metru's human forms can be seen here) I hope it's fairly self explanatory which features come from which werebeast, but a few other fun design notes...

So, in KNPS, the Toa Kaita look a lot like the Steven Universe fusions, with extra eyes and limbs. The Turaga Nui follows a similar logic but on a more bestial body layout.

The top two arms are the most humanoid, as TN signs in ASL as well as speaking aloud whenever it is practical to do so (i.e. when there is not a Toa of Air attached to their neck). The next two pairs of limbs can function either as arms or forelegs, so the digits are more paw-like.

The wings are obviously based on a snowy owl and come from Nuju's werebeast form. Male snowy owls typically have lighter coloured plumage while females have prominent black bars on their feathers. Nuju in particular would probably have been almost completely white as a werebeast given he's an ice Toa and has white hair in human form. The Turaga Nui, however, is composed of five men and one woman, so I gave them a small amount of barring on the tips of one wing while the other is plain white. (The bars also help tie it back to the badger stripes on their face from a design standpoint)

The Kaita have metallic gold or silver skin, I suggested black and white patterns for TN's colour scheme to make them visibly nonhuman but also distinct from the Kaita.

Shauni felt that there should be more accents of each element's colours, however, so we decided on the "black" scales actually having an iridescent sheen to them.

I'd already been planning to give TN spots similar to that of a newt, but didn't realise until I started doing it that white spots on black combined with the iridescent colours gives the impression of a night sky/galaxy pattern.

I had previously suggested the name "Tien" to Shauni (Turaga Nui = T.N. Said aloud it phonetically sounds like "Tien"). Turns out Shauni had the exact same thought. Furthermore, it's a name in several cultures, various meanings include "heavenly being", "celestial" and "sky" (An etymologically related name is the Chinese "Tianlong", which means "Celestial Dragon")

So, accidentally coming up with a name that means "celestial" and then accidentally making them look like a living galaxy was a fun coincidence.

Also, apparently one of Rags' favourite DBZ characters was named Tien, so that was a plus for her!

The tail has owl feathers but is structurally more similar to the tail of an aquatic newt.

The eyes are based on the Turaga's animal forms but the colours come from their eye-glow. The three eyes visible in the image are Vakama's (green), Matau's (red), and Onewa's (blue)

As previous;y mentioned, photographs of jumping ferrets helped in drawing the dragon's limbs . I also ended up referencing hairless cats to get a handle on what the paws would look like with no fur.

I did do a version that shows the full body pose, which I quite liked, but felt that the cropped composition above was better to show the character details given tumblr's scrolling format

[jays-cave-of-rp-memes]

Anonymously brew a potion for my muse, and they have to endure its effects! (Specify for how long)

🥀 - wilted rose, to make my muse confess any secrets they may be hiding

🌻 - sunflower, to brighten my muse’s mood

🌹 - rose, to make my muse hot and bothered

🌷 - tulip, to make my muse strive more for perfection

🍂 - dried leaves, to depress/sadden my muse

🍀 - four leaf clover, to give my muse good luck

🌿 - fern, to boost my muse’s confidence

🌼 - daisy, to make my muse more gullible/trusting

🍁 - autumn leaves, to inspire my muse to make a drastic change

🍄 - mushroom, to add an effect of your/sender’s choice

🌸 - cherry blossom, to inspire hope in my muse

🌵 - cactus, to boost my muse’s physical and/or emotional resilience

🕸 - spider silk, to boost my muse’s stealth

🦇 - bat fur, to give my muse night vision

🦉 - owl feather, to boost my muse’s intellect

🦚 - peacock feather, to boost my muse’s ego and pride

🦋 - butterfly wings, to give my muse the ability to fly

🪲 - beetle shell, to harden my muse’s skin into armor

🧄 - garlic, to boost my muse’s strength

🐚 - sea shells, to give my muse water breathing

🌶 - chili pepper, for added kick and to give my muse firebreath

🦴 - bones, to give my muse the ability see and speak to ghosts

🍯 - honey, for sweetness and to boost my muse’s charisma

🧂 - salt, for flavor and to make my muse’s skin glow

🍫 - chocolate, for sweetness and to give my muse hypnosis

🥛 - milk, to clear my muse’s mind

🫖 - tea, to calm my muse

☕️ - coffee, to energize my muse

✨ - stardust, to make my muse’s eyes glow

🐉 - dragon scales, to make my muse grow horns and a tail (specify what kind)

🌈 - rainbow light, to make my muse’s hair randomly change colors