#Avian Axe

[ant1quarian]

Avian Horror Sans

or Axe :]

[brawlertech]

Black Titanium Special Attack Ventri with Flare-Axe & Smash Hammer | 3.0

[astr4ldu5k]

(old) owl

[gracefireheart]

It's them. Again 💃 Back at it with somewhat different looks :]

(Some notes about them below the keep reading line)

For Tallulah's design, I gave her a cow tail instead, and I changed her fur pattern to be similar to a white-throated magpie-jay. And ofc, her hair is like-- right between black and dark brown in color, which I also put as her eye color :]

Gave her a bag (that has lil' images that represent her family) that I imagine works like Ramona's bag from [specifically] Scott Pilgrim: Takes Off. Where suddenly, Tallulah will just pull out a big fuck-off battle axe <3

Instead of having black hair with pink highlights, I made Chayanne's hair [sandy?] blonde with pink highlights.

As much as I love the duck floatie on his Egg design, it can be a pain to draw. So, while I was doing the lineart (to which I was going to draw the duck floatie as is), I decided to change it into an apron instead.

q!Phil's got some new clothes! Which includes: A cream undershirt, a green samue I took the sleeves off of, two lil' friendship bracelet (one purple and pink that's made by Tallulah, one yellow and pink that's made by Chayanne), and a lil' skull charm chained close to his waist uvu

For q!Phil's avian/elytrian side, I decided to just let him have talon feet 24/7, his wings are ofc fucked up from Enderpookie Enderking, and he was going to have tail feathers, buuut they ended up pretty hidden 'cause of his pose + the pants o(-(

q!Phil may not have chronic pain, but imo, it would still benefit him to use a cane while his wings are fucked up like that. So he's gonna be using a cane in my drawings.

And then we have lil' sleepy q!Missa. He's just in his sleeping garb in this drawing :')

[nomsfaultau]

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Tw child abuse/(non sexual) grooming

Away from the cabin, Tommy picks berries. The snow is cold, but he wants to be helpful. Footsteps come up from behind, too light to be Techno. A happy little chirp burbles out of Tommy’s throat as Philza ruffles his hair. At once his hands slap over his mouth. But— but Phil said the chirping was a natural, good thing. And it hurt so much to suppress it. So Tommy lets the trilling song be free, belatedly recognizing it as the chirp to greet his guardian. So— oh. The stab of panic is swift, but- but Phil is safe, won’t abuse how he feels. So if Tommy deep down sees him like a dad, that’s okay then. Okay. That is okay. Warmth fills chest as Philza affectionately strokes his hair.

Tommy’s rambling about picking berries with the hopes of making a cake is interrupted. “It’s time to come back home, Tommy.”

But it isn’t Philza’s voice at all. Tommy’s blood freezes, turning slowly to find his abuser looming over him. The feathers from where his abuser clipped his wings fan out cheerfully around his mask. 

Scrambling away, Tommy fumbles for his sword. Glowering at his abuser, he charges, shouting wildly. A shield blocks his blow, and the next, and the next, till suddenly slamming him harshly into a tree. He never draws a weapon, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, the shield bashing against his head or driving him into thorny berry bushes. As Tommy screams at his abuser, he’s met with calm words explaining that he’s being manipulated by Techno and Phil. It’s all in his head; if he just comes back it’ll make perfect sense.

Obviously Tommy isn’t stupid and doesn’t buy it. Frustration fills his abuser. “Perhaps if I nurse you back to health you’ll be more grateful for all the care I gave you.” His netherite axe gleams with enchantments, and suddenly his abuser is unrelenting, wickedly fast in a way Tommy can barely keep up with.

Quickly bloodied and realizing he very well might die, or worse, be abducted, Tommy turns and runs. A fist catches roughly around his feathers, but his enderpearl is already thrown. If he can just get back to the cabin—

The pearl breaks against the tree branches, and suddenly Tommy is falling. His wings snap out, trying to slow his descent, but something slams into him midair, a net constricting around him.

Impact is brutal. Tommy weakly thrashes, trying to escape the net, but he’s hopelessly tangled. He’s panicked, and hurting, and frozen in his instincts. Maybe he could enderpearl out, or cut the net, but all Tommy can do is cry out. He hates the way his heart calms the moment he sees his abuser through the mesh of the net.

“I’m— I’m not afraid of you,” Tommy barely manages. It takes everything he has to suppress the distressed chirp building in his throat. It hurts.

“Why should you be? We’re friends.” The axe gleams in his hands.

He suppresses a yelp as it swings, scoring a shallow mark across the base of one wing. The net frays, and with a snap he gets it free, flapping wildly. “Stop-“ it bites off into a shrill chirp as his abuser drops on top of him. Tommy twists, trying to smack him with a wing only for it to get pinned beneath his knee, his abuser straddling him. Fingers claw into his shoulder painfully, tighter and tighter as he thrashes beneath the man’s weight. “STOP-” Deep coos pour over him, soft and sweet. It makes him feel sick, realizing what’s about to happen to him. Even the freezing panic would be better than this. Tommy begins to hyperventilate. “STOP—!” He shudders as his abuser runs a gentle hand down his wing. Tommy’s desperate lopsided flapping is useless to buck his abuser, the ropes cutting in as he strains for freedom.

But all Tommy can do is tremble in place as his abuser begins grooming him. The deep cooing is so warm and loving, his touches so wonderfully tender as they smooth out the damages from the fight until it’s as if it never happened. He knows he’s bleeding out in the snow, and yet the hurt fades away. The fearful fluffed-up feathers lower beneath his abuser’s hands. Slowly, Tommy’s panicked hyperventilating ebbs.

The next thing out of Tommy’s throat isn’t a plea, but a soft coo. The tension in his body releases, melting into the grooming. The world becomes hazy and pleasant for all the nausea in the pit of his stomach. Tommy hates this so, so much, but he’s trapped in a body so easily manipulated. All his instincts know is his guardian is finally back, and they rejoice to finally be safe when Tommy’s never been in more danger. It doesn’t matter that the ropes cut in so deep he’s bleeding, doesn’t matter the snow he’s half burrowed in is freezing, doesn’t matter that each coo makes it a little harder to reach his real thoughts. It feels so good to be loved.

The fingers threading through his feathers slow. A shift of weight, and his abuser looms over, the kind cooing ceasing. “Are you ready to come back to the nest?”

His brain is frazzled, and suddenly that’s all he craves, the warm safety of their roost. It’s so cold here. He wants to go home. That would cure the twisting dread in his chest.

With the last of his sense, Tommy releases an ear-piercing shriek. It’s the loudest chirp he’s ever managed, scraping his throat raw. He gathers breath for the next one, only for a hand to clamp down on mouth, muffling his cry for help.

Deep coos pour over him, rushed and irritated but soothing regardless, only ceasing when a responding coo is torn from Tommy’s throat. Hands card through his wing, faster and faster, his abuser murmuring about how nice the nest will be. Safe and warm. And remember all the fun we had together? Exile blurs in his head, confusing and scary but his abuser will protect him. Why else would he still wear Tommy’s feathers?

The world dissolves into a pleasant dream as he’s shoved back into a trance. He tries to thrash as he’s submerged, but he’s drowning in his instincts. Tommy doesn’t even want to break to the surface, because he knows if he tries to ruin this it’ll only hurt so much worse. All he can remember is his abuser’s kindness. If ever he weren’t, it was Tommy’s fault for messing up. He’ll do better this time. He’ll do anything.

“You’re my hatchling, aren’t you Tommy?” A happy purr of coos tumbles out of him. “Say it. You’re never going to run away again. You’re mine.” Language escapes Tommy, locked in chirping. He nods, and his abuser relaxes, resuming running a hand through his feathers. “Good. We’re going back to the nest. If you ever leave again I’m breaking your wings, got it? Not like you need them, they’re useless. Honestly I'd be doing you a favor.” Tommy doesn’t understand what’s being said, but coos warmly. His abuser doesn’t coo back. Has Tommy done something wrong? His fear grows, he’s messed something up somehow, he always does. 

His coos grow insistent, needing a response, and his abuser huffs and gives a sharp coo. Tommy’s feathers unruffle, melting back into warm complacency. “Really Tommy, you don’t have to be scared if you’re obedient. I hate when you force me to hurt you just as much as you do.”

Tommy sighs into the blood-covered snow, basking in his guardian’s affection. He missed him so, so much. All is safe and good in the world now that he’s back. Tommy is loved. 

Next>

[featheredenby]

Cuteguy

“Right where are my manners, the name’s Cuteguy! Now do you want help or not?”

Written by: FeatheredEnby

Part Two of: Show Your Fangs

A superhero AU is Hermitcraft/Empires SMP/The Life Series

Scar had always, for the short time that he had it, enjoyed working as a superhero and protecting the citizens of Hermitopia, Empires City, and Lifetropolis from harm but recently things had gotten strange. He wouldn't necessarily say that it was in a bad way but The GFHA had only been started to combat regular crimes and take a toll off of the police. However soon after it had formed more and more antiheroes, vigilanties, and supervillains started to emerge. Just a month ago the first villain duo emerged calling themselves “The Dogwarts Duo” and the chaos continued as another villain emerged and declared that she was “The Faker”.

That is what had brought him, as Hotguy of course, to his current situation, with him staring down the dog hybrid known as “The Red King”, while bleeding from his leg and help being nowhere to be found. It would have been quite an interesting scene if he wasn’t the one in it, but of course he was. He was standing off with The Red King, a dog hybrid with brown hair wearing a golden crown and a red cape with white mountains maybe,  and The Red Hand, he couldn’t quite place what he was as his entire appearance was quite confusing as he had large bat wings but ice crystals growing all over his body and he was wearing a blindfold over his eyes with the same pattern as The Red King’s cape. There are quite a lot of confusing things about the duo but one thing was certain trapped in The Hand’s grasp is a young llama hybrid (who can’t be any more than ten) with the edge of an axe ever so gently pressed against their throat and in Hotguy’s hands there is a high tech bow nocked with an arrow with which he could easily shoot down The Hand and King in quick succession. There was just one thing if Scar shot The Hand in the head he would likely fall backwards killing the llama hybrid but if he shot him in the hand he would likely jolt forward and drop the axe at the same time, depending on the timing however the kid’s neck could get hit with the blade of the axe. There is really no solution, in his ear he hears a voice, “Hotguy, come in Hotguy.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Hurry up and shoot him. Cut your losses. One random kid’s death won’t end the world.”

“But I-”

“Hurry up an-”

The stern voice of the GFHA’s director is cut off as he hears a new one; it's familiar but he can’t quite place it.

“Thanks for breaking into the comms for me buttercup! Oh wait he can hear me already- hey there pretty boy. You seem to be in quite the pickle down there, need some help?”

“What the- who are you!?!” Hotguy replies. 

“Right where are my manners, the name’s Cuteguy! Now do you want help or not?”

-

On the roof of an apartment building stands an avian with dirty blond hair and a pair of black and yellow wings on both his back and where his ears would be, ink is dripping down his face. He wears a black tank top with a red and pink heart in the middle over it there’s a bright pink jacket with the same symbol and yellow tie dye patches, there is red ribbon functioning as a belt around his light pink shorts and later being used again to decorate his boots darker boots along with mini black wings on the ankles. Next to him is a red headed zombie in a simple pink crop top and shorts with a fluffy white headband, wristbands, and belt equipped with a pink leather pouch and a golden clock, on her head is a large white witch hat with a pink underside. She lifts up her head from viewing the scene below them and looks at him with a puzzled look on her face.

“Okay so as we just saw The Dogwarts Duo is here today, but how did you know that they would be?” She inquires.

“Oh, you know Cleo, I have good ways to get information.” He answers, it’s not like she’ll ever learn that they’re just chickens.

“Okay then, don’t tell me,” Cleo responds as she turns to face a pale man in a suit,”Are we almost into the system Mumbo?”

“Just about,” Mumbo claims,”so I would suggest that you two stop using our real names now as what we are doing is very illegal.”

“Aw you’re such a buzzkill,” he teases,”Anyways thanks for breaking into comms for me buttercup! Oh wait he can hear me already- hey there pretty boy. You seem to be in quite the pickle down there, need some help?”

“What the- who are you!?!” Hotguy asks. 

“Right where are my manners, the name’s Cuteguy! Now do you want help or not?”

“Uhm… sure I guess but I don’t even know where you are.”

“I can see you from where I am so there’s n-” Cuteguy starts to inform him before being cut off by The Red King.

“Oi! You have exactly ten seconds to drop the bow or the kid gets it.” He yells.

The Red Hand starts to count down, “Ten.”

“Well my undead friend.” Cuteguy says to Cleo.

“Nine.”

“Care to work some of that time magic for us?”

“Eight.”

“Uhm… Guys! What should I do?” Hotguy Panics.

“Seven.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Cleo responds.

“Six.”

“Should I just put the bow down?”

“Cast it on go.”

“Five.”

“Three, Two.”

“I’m just gonna drop the bow.”

“Four.”

“I’m about to drop it.”

“One.”

“Three.”

“Go!”

“||𝙹⚍ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ᔑꖎꖎ ⎓⚍ᓵꖌ╎リ⊣ ᓭℸ ̣ 𝙹!¡”

As she speaks her eyes blaze bright and time slows down, for everyone except the people she didn’t freeze, that is, those people being Hotguy, Cuteguy, Mumbo, the little kid, and her of course. 

“Hotguy,” Cuteguy yells while flying down from the roof,”you get the kid. I’ll take care of these two.” He says while gesturing at The Dogwarts Duo.

“On it!”

“Hurry up you two I can’t hold this time freeze forever,” Cleo yells,”!¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑ|| ⎓∷𝙹⨅ᒷリ”

Hotguy runs over to The, now frozen, Dogwarts Duo and carefully moves away The Red Hand’s arms and Axe, after doing this he picks up the crying llama hybrid in his arms. Meanwhile Cuteguy lands on The Red King and tries to figure out what to do with the two of them, he could always just turn them in but where’s the fun in that. Maybe he should just tie them up and toss them in a dumpster in some random alley way. He’s about to ask Cleo for her opinion when he sees Hotguy comforting the kid that they saved.

“Shh. It’s okay, I’m here for you,” he says,”Now can you tell me your name?”

“I- I’m P-P- Pizza.” sniffles the kid.

It’s pretty sweet to see such a touching scene but as he looks back over at Cleo he can tell that she is struggling. He’s about to call out to her when the light in her eyes starts to flicker and fade. Normally this would be fine but he still hasn’t done anything with The Dogwarts Duo and Cleo looks like she’s gonna burst a blood vessel if she doesn't stop soon.

“!¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ ⎓ᔑℸ ̣ ᒷᓭ, ╎'ᒲ ʖᒷ⊣⊣╎リ⊣ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣  ꖎᒷℸ ̣  ᒲᒷ ꖌᒷᒷ!¡ ⊣𝙹╎リ⊣ ᔑ ꖎ╎ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ꖎᒷ ꖎ𝙹リ⊣ᒷ∷,” Cleo casts desperately,”Guys I can’t hold it any longer!”

“Please try, I still have to do something with these two.” he replies.

“I can’t, the fates won’t allow it, in fact they’re not too fond of time magic in the first place. 𝙹リᒷ ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ ᒲ╎リ⚍ℸ ̣ ᒷ, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ. I can only hold it for another minute, knock those two out and put them in an alleyway or something.”

“Okay!” he yells back.

Cuteguy goes over to the side of the street and grabs two sizable pieces of debris, he then flies back over and drops one on each of the duo’s heads. He then picks them both up and flies them over to a dumpster just as he had originally planned. He then flies back up to the roof, “well team ready to bounce?”

“╎ℸ ̣ 'ᓭ 𝙹⍊ᒷ∷.” Cleo says ending the spell, “Yep, let’s go.”

“I’m ready, this has all been quite an awful ordinal.” Mumbo adds.

“Okay then, bye Hotguy! See you soon.” Cuteguy calls in a singsong voice, and with that the three of them headout to get some rest as Hotguy returns Pizza to his family and goes to fill out a report.

-

As just as Grian got home his phone started chiming, he takes it out of his bag and sees that the person calling him is his roommate, Scar. Knowing Scar he probably needs a ride back from whatever client he was meeting with for a landscaping job, so Grian answers in a singsong voice,“Hello, Scar!”

“Hey, G. I was just wondering if you saw the news today?” Scar inquires.

“Nope, I haven’t seen it yet,” he replies but he does know what happened, as he lived it,”Did something interesting happen?”

“Yeah, so you know who Hotguy is right? Well he was fighting the Dogwarts Duo and they kinda ended up in a stalemate when they threatened a kid.” Scar explains.

“Oh… that’s awful.” Grian replies trying to sound surprised.

“I know,” Scar says,”but then some new vigilante hacked into the GFHA’s comm system and said that his name was Cuteguy. Then some random timewitch froze time for everyone except him, Hotguy, and the kid.”

“Wait what?”

“Yeah it shocked me to hear that too, according to Hotguy, the spell wore down really quick so Cuteguy just knocked the duo out and threw them in some dumpster.”

“So they’re still a threat?” Grian questions Scar.

“I mean I guess but they were both knocked out so it’s likely that they’ll turn up again any time soon.”

“I guess so.” He replies.

“Anyways,” says Scar,”I was wondering your opinion on the vigilantes that have been popping up.”

Oh no, Grian was not expecting Scar to ask that. How was he supposed to sound convincing when he is one of them, along with the fact that he has no idea what Scar’s perspective on it is. What was he supposed to say, “Oh yeah, I think it’s awesome, in fact you should know that I am Cuteguy!” that is not happening. Maybe he should just ask a question back to deflect having to answer. “I don’t really have one,” he lies,”what about you?”

“Oh,” says Scar as if not expecting Grian to want his opinion,”I don’t really mind it if they’re helping but it is illegal.”

“Yep, that’s kind of the definition of vigilante.” Grian responds.

“Maybe it would just be better for them to join The GFHA.” Scar continues.

“Well they might not agree with its ideals,” Grian argues,”and in any case they aren’t causing any harm.”

“True. True. Anywho I just wanted to call and get your opinion, by the way can you feed Jellie for me tonight?” 

“Sure,” Grian agrees,”but why exactly?”

“Oh, you know… I’m just helping Joel with something.” Scar answers in a voice that tells Grian that he’s lying through his teeth, but Grian doesn’t question it.

“Okay then,” Says Grian,”see you later Scar.”

“Later G.” With that Scar hangs up.

Grian is fine with Scar being out in fact he doesn’t even mind that Scars obviously lying, this just gives him an opportunity. Tonight Cuteguy would go out again to protect Hermitopia and get on the government’s nerves. Tonight he would make a name for himself as Cuteguy the infamous vigilante.

[primestartes]

Kranrar Warpkin, Champion of Tzeentch

I looove Oldhammer champions and this one, I always wanted to draw. My fingers leveled up enough to attempt him. I dont know his actual name but this is my snatch of him. Bonus Blarb:

Kranrar Warpkin called out to his warriors under the Wyrdfire Iconoclasts, how he bounded on his avian legs without fear of death nor belief of defeat. The Mark of Tzeentch burning upon his almost wood-like raiment. The face that was once a mere helmet squawked violence, to commit the souls that dare to challenge him to the Master of Fates. His serrate-edged sword came to hack across greenskinned muscles and sinews, slicing as hot as fire. Their screams an unknown incantation to the spell of war. The Chaos Champion extended his double-jointed arm out, the most distinctive of the Mad God’s gifts – the oversized hand of a Tzeentch – wrapped its sucker-ended fingers around a Black Orc’s skull, its fell power warping its helmet like yeast before squeezing with a gory pop. “In the name of Tzeentch, twist their bones! In the name of the Constant Change, flay their flesh! In the desire of plots untold, eat their brains and take their will!” Kranrar Warpkin cried out, the Chaos Champion bounded and carved skull to chest. Nape to ass. Side to side. His madness as true as his skill as a warrior blessed by the Ruinous Powers. He made a mere gesture and a ruby-mote of warpfire lashed from one of his many bewitched rings, claiming a gang of Orcs into a melting pool flailing and changing, only for four mewling Chaos Spawns baring bare resemblance of their former lives with flailing axe-hands, claws, and bubbling maws full of teeth. His marauders with their flesh seared with the magical wards of protection, armed with shields and axes charging to meet against the green horde with javelins lined of fetishes and heathenish prayers hurled with impossible aim. Their greater companions, the Warpkin Warriors themselves, marched forward with a presence that demanded reverence and fear. The goblins crushed under boot, given the attention of mere contempt by these men swollen with Tzeentch’s gifts as their swords gleaming with their magics and shields deflecting arrows to carve into the orcish lines with their master. The chained Chaos Spawn that served Kranrar threw themselves deep into the WAAGH in their unbridled madness for some kind of ease to their screaming minds, and hopefully the solace of death finally claiming them. By the fortune and wisdom to make a pact with a Lord of Change, the ‘gift’ of a Blue Horror retinue was a fine addition into the battle. Their glittering rain of warpfire had turned one of the Greenskins’ beasts into a bubbling twisting monolith of decolored flesh and metal, led by their incandescent horror who cackled and gaggled with a language far beyond mortal understanding or acceptance. With long multi-jointed fingers and a wave of its staff, a storm of falling iron blemished the wasteland’s ugly nothingness to a glittering carpet of pain that earned more of the daemons’ glee!

[hmshermitcraft]

For the theme of Wings! (don't know if this suggestive so I apologize) Grian's never been one to believe in the concept of Wingboners. The whole thing always sounded so ridiculous in his mind. So whenever someone would ask if he's ever had it happen the avian would just brush them off. Being around Scar though, quickly changed that. The first time it happened was during 3rd Life, it was when Grian first saw Scar shirtless. One minute Grian was just chatting with Scar the next thing he knew, the man had his shirt off. Grian froze and didn't even register what had happened. It wasn't until Scar began asking why Grian's wings were sticking up so stiffly. The poor avian had never felt more embarrassed in his life and for the rest of 3rd Life was telling Scar to keep his shirt to avoid the others finding out. It wasn't until later on that Scar learned what truly happened that day. Once Scar did, Grian never knew a moment's peace and teased constantly about it.

Of all the places it had to happen, the death game Grian was so nervous about hosting? That he'd put so much time and work into? He would've thought his anxiety would stop that kind of thing, but no! Stupid Scar and his stupid abs.

Scar is very proud when he skirts the rule in later games by just opening his shirt a little. It's not very little. Grian fights the urge to chase him down with an axe, but his stiff wings aren't very useful for that.

[ruleofvee]

i love royalty aus too much its clear

so. the stage. phil, ruler of the antarctic empire has like three small children. theyre littol. despite the name the empire is modestly sized. which means when an encroaching empire decides to invade....well.

they put up a good fight but! but. ultimately. ultimately essempi invades. and. and they dont manage to take the empire, but they do manage to take phil and two of his children before fleeing, the empires army on their heels. leaving only a smol techno behind

this techno grows up with dispassionate servants and trauma and revenge on his mind. his memories of the attack are foggy, but he remembers vividly the green flags - the color of essempi. remembers his father screaming, even if his voice has faded from his recollection

he grows up and tailors himself into the perfect warrior/emperor. he makes a deal with the blood god for a fraction of their divinity. he amasses wealth and armies. he fosters good relations with neighboring kingdoms. he forces himself to learn the ins and outs of politics, of cunning words meant to ensnare. he learns the prayers of his god until he can draw power from them almost effortlessly

he turns himself into an imposing figure, wings held wide and intimidating, eyes red with power, the Sigil from his divine deal etched into his wrist and glowing softly gold

and then when the time is right, axe in hand and watchfulness in his gaze, he marches into essempi for a 'talk'. dream is waiting for him.

and at dream's side, held in chains like a beloved pet, with empty eyes that widen in shock as techno enters, is an avian with black wings.

an avian that techno…doesn't…recognize (except in echoes in the mirror)

...he doesn't forget, but he puts it temporarily aside. for now, his focus is on finding his family. freeing the avian will come later, after he's dismantled dream's rule

[trafficlife]

Breaking Point

It took three seconds for Grian to convince Jimmy to push off the minecart. It took two seconds for Jimmy to fall to his death, a trail of lightning following his path. And it took less than one second for the remains of Joel's sanity to disintegrate completely.

word count: 1363

ao3 link

It happened in a blur. Too fast for either Joel or Grian to process.

They knew Jimmy could be a bit of a klutz but this was the worst time for his clumsiness to kick in. Yes, he fell off of Skynet multiple times—all the bad boys were guilty of that—but it didn't matter too much: back then, he had enough time on his clock, and more than enough time to make it up.

But the last grains of sand had fallen, drowning the canary in the sandstorm.

The lightning struck, sealing Jimmy's fate. But he was dead before he even hit the ground.

Everything that followed the canary's final words was akin to static to Joel's ears. He felt his communicator buzz repeatedly in his pocket. There would be a lot of commotion considering this was the fourth time in a row Jimmy was out first. But Joel didn't want to see the messages. He didn't want to believe it.

He dug his fingers into his palms which would be drawing blood, if not for his leather gloves. This wasn't part of his plan. This wasn't supposed to happen. Hell, it should've been Joel who died first, not Jimmy!

Joel had been thinking about sacrificing himself for a while. Everyone was aware of Jimmy's curse. Joel thought he could break it, that he could free him from this cycle. The universe proved him wrong.

And he hated it when the universe proved him wrong.

His head was reeling, blood pumping through his veins, eyes narrowing and flashing red, like a warning. When Joel was red, everyone knew to heed his warnings. But this time, it was somewhat different. The bad boys were anchoring him, slightly diminishing his violent urges. But now one of the chains had snapped, and Joel was already floating into the torrential waters.

Grian seemed to notice, and he gently put a hand on Joel's shoulder. Joel flinched and turned to look at the avian. Grian's eyes were wide with concern, contrasting Joel's narrowed, maniacal ones. "Joel, breathe! Please... Try to relax."

Joel scoffed, shrugging Grian's hand off his shoulder. "That's much easier said than done, Grian, and you know it." He turned away and began walking in the opposite direction, aware that Grian was hot on his heels. "How?! How could he just bloody fall off the bridge?!"

"Joel..."

"I mean, we've all fallen off Skynet, but this isn't the first time Tim pushed off a minecart! Why wasn't he more careful?!"

"Joel—"

"I cannot believe this. This wasn't supposed to happen, I was supposed to prevent this!"

"Joel!"

"WHAT?!" Joel snarled, whipping his head back towards Grian. The avian froze, like a deer in headlights. He remembers this expression, from Last Life when he teamed up with Joel. He remembered his wild expression, his battle-ready stance, his shrieks and cackles as blood dripped from his weapons and hands, staining the ground he walked on.

He remembers Pearl’s blood dripping down from Joel’s axe in Double Life. His chestplate was stained blood, eyes twitching as his lips formed a vicious smile. “You think you’re unhinged, Pearl?! You have no idea!” 

Except for Etho, due to their former soul bond, Grian was probably the closest to knowing what “unhinged” really was for Joel.

There were so many words that could describe Joel on his red life: feral, deranged, unhinged, unstable. But surprisingly, Grian thought "broken" was the most fitting.

Becoming a red life was always Joel's breaking point. From his sanity to his restraint, everything went off the edge and shattered once it hit the bottom. Joel was a living storm, wild and untamed. But inside of that storm, were all of the fragments that made him whole, that kept him sane.

This was a different case because Joel was grieving. Before, he was just broken beyond repair; now, the grief shattered what was left of his fragments, making it impossible to put him back together.

(Even if he wasn't grieving, Joel wouldn't be easy to fix anyway.)

Joel saw the fear in Grian's eyes and he just crumbled. He choked back a sob as hot angry tears rolled down his face, resting his forehead on Grian's shoulder. Grian frowned, gently caressing Joel's head and wrapping his wings around him in a feathery hug. Joel clung onto Grian's red jumper, his nails threatening to rip the fabric. "I can't. I just fucking can't, Grian..."

"I know..."

"I was going to sacrifice myself for him," Joel whispered, though Grian was aware of this fact. "I should've let him kill me, at least a couple more times."

"How much time do you have left, Joel?"

"3 hours and 20 minutes." He took a shaky breath, glancing up at the avian over the rim of his glasses. "I could've given him an extra 90 minutes. Probably 2 hours." Grian nodded slowly. He wanted to protest that giving Jimmy 2 hours would kill Joel but they both knew that. That was what Joel wanted.

"You tried so hard, Joel," Grian murmured. 

Joel huffed. "Obviously I didn't try hard enough." He let go of Grian, hands still balled up in fists. He really needed to punch something, to let go of some of his emotions. “Sorry, I... I need to be alone.” 

“No need to apologize.” Grian gently squeezed Joel’s shoulder reassuringly. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to come back from this.” Joel didn’t believe that. But he still appreciated Grian for saying it. It sounded more believable coming from Grian, than it would if it came from Joel himself.

After Grian left, Joel looked down from Skynet, where Jimmy fell. Even from so high up, he could see the scorched patch of grass from the lightning. 

It disgusted him to look at it.

He then went back into the remains of their base, which accurately represented Joel’s current mood: a mess, barely staying together, incredibly hopeless. His breathing was irregular and ragged and he grinded down on his teeth. Joel took a deep inhale.

And then he screamed.

It was loud, ear-splitting, and it only reinforced Joel’s insanity rather than help relieve it. He dug his fingers into his curly dark brown hair, doubling over as if shot by an arrow.

Then, Joel chuckled darkly, but it quickly devolved into a despair-filled cackle. Joel threw his head back, his sunglasses flying off in the process. His pupils were dilated and angry tears rolled down his cheeks. The cackling made his throat ache and his bloodlust had never felt so overwhelming before. He punched one of the windows, shattering it completely. Some of the shards had pierced through his glove, blood soaking through the fabric  and dripping down his wrist.

The despair quickly caught up to him. He sank to his knees and sobbed, having exhausted all of his fire. Only disdain ran through his veins. He despised this wretched world for being so damn cruel. He despised himself for not trying harder. He should have tried harder, he should have.  

It felt so… bad.

And, for the first time in any of these games, he hated feeling bad.

Eventually Joel stopped crying, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He began carefully plucking the shards from his skin, gritting his teeth. “Stop crying, you fool,” he hissed to himself. “Not like it’s going to magically bring Jimmy back.”

As angry as he was, and as angry as he’d be for the rest of the game, Joel couldn’t let his time go to waste. This has to mean something. And he knows that Jimmy wouldn’t want him to give up. 

He looked up at the clear sky through the shattered windows. Jimmy probably logged off by now. But deep down, Joel hoped that he was watching, to see that Joel wouldn’t quit on him.

Joel was never much of a quitter anyways, though he felt particularly close to doing so now. 

The universe proved him wrong once, but he’d be damned if it proved him wrong a second time. 

(Yet the universe knew that Joel’s insanity would lead to his downfall, once again. It was very good at leading him on.)

[ant1quarian]

Again we're going with The Lion King

Remember that part were timon and pumba danced to distract the hyenas?

What if we put Reader there(Because they like her and all that) to dance to distract them as her friends were recording because it was a date for her she is a ribbon dancer too so then after her performance she literally has to run while her friends start to catch on and Chase after them too because Reader's running away from one of them catching her

(they're cool with her friends and everything btw)

I feel like the boys would definitely be equally as interested as playful.

Dust steps forward with a tilted head, watching you closely, and sorta just chills until you start running. Then his grin turns sharp and you better believe he's flying after you. (Most likely to be caught by, can break the sound barrier when he dives.) He doesn't mind too much that your friend has carried you, but he's definitely going to steal you.

Killer will sit there and simply watch, a look of awe on his face before you gap it. It probably takes a couple seconds before his thoughts catch up to him and he proceeds to chase after you. The possessive part of his mind mind actually make him do something Not Too Intelligent and possibly hurt the friend carrying you. He's an Australian Magpie. They're territorial. Really territorial.

Axe lets you run, slowly following along behind, very amused and also very content. You're very pretty to him- but you better bet he's going to yoink you from the friend carrying you and take you to his nest for some cuddle times.

[found-wings]

100% if phil asked etoiles for something to use in his nest, etoiles as a joke would go "okay :D !!" and go through his backpack and whip out the biggest top-heavy axe you've ever seen and dump it in phils hands before quickly clarifying that he's joking about that one before gifting something he can actually use 😭😭 (he tries to take it back thinking phil wouldn't wanna genuinely use it but boy is he Wrong guess which avian just got a sharp new addition to his nest) - 💿

THAT WAS MY FIRST THOUGHT TOO HELP

Etoiles trying to quickly clarify that he’s joking about it, but Phils eyes already go big as he stares at the axe and scatters away to add it to his nest

Is it a safety hazard if he plans on sleeping in the nest? Yes

Does Phil care? Not at all, because Etoiles gave it to him and he will be damned if he doesn‘t add it to the nest KAJSJAB

[itsallgrianhere]

avian grian headcanons?!? yes. (I HAVE SO MANY GRIAN HEADCANONS AND IM HERE TO SHARE.)

birds normally have hollow bones to support themselves while flying—and its widely accepted that avians have to be short to stay suspended in the air, grian is no exception. meaning yes, hes easy to pick up and carry! so the hermits dont really mind when he perches on them, they find it funny

he naturally likes being in higher places

grian gives feathers to all the hermits as a sort of way to say theyre part of his flock (avian instincts) also i hc that his favorite fruit is apples, idk why

theoretically, if avian grian has bird legs/feet, a hallux talon would be very important, as thats what lets some birds hang or latch onto things—so useful for building!

grian, despite being lightweight and short, prefers claymores and axes as weapons because why not

(i love yapping about him)

YEAH!!!!

[mcg-127]

Oughhh, I miss Hybrids AU all of a sudden, it makes me so unwell /pos :) :) :) I’m thinking about the potential bad ending, in which Hybrids!Dream reclaims his little fledgling, hehehe :) He would certainly be infuriated, but wouldn’t it be fun if he pretended to be understanding and took his precious time to make Hybrids!Tommy believe that he was safe, only to reveal his fury in the end, and punish him in the cruelest way imaginable? 

At first, Hybrids!Dream would hit Hybrids!Tommy on the nose, causing it to bleed, and smearing blood over its face, before harshly pushing the boy to the ground. Taking notice of its trembling lips, tear-stained eyes, and its desperate attempt to suppress an alarm call, the hybrid hunter would grin cruelly, anticipating the rest of this beautiful spectacle, before saying, “Aww, did it hurt, Toms? If you hadn’t foolishly escaped, you wouldn’t have to suffer… this much.” 

Then, Hybrids!Dream would beat Hybrids!Tommy into the ribs, each blow harder and slower than the last, until they break with a satisfying crack. After all, these protected the boy’s lungs as he escaped from his owner… 

Next, the man would pull out an axe, and break his legs with the blunt side. After all, these let the boy escape from his owner…

At this point, the poor fledgling would be in so much agony that he’d be lost in dissociation, but still incredibly responsive to every single blow, and fearing what might happen next.

And finally, Hybrids!Dream would painfully slowly pluck a couple of feathers from Hybrids!Tommy now freed wings (thanks to Hybrids!Emeraldduo, hehe), before pulling out a dagger, roughly clipping his wings, and cutting out his initials as a sign of ownership.

Omg, I miss Hybrids AU as well! I'm so proud of it, and I'm honoured you adore it too <3333 A bad ending would hit super hard and be heartbreaking in the best way, hehe :) Ohh, Hybrids!Dream would definitely be the angriest he's ever been, and Hybrids!Tommy would have the worst time he's ever had. The concept of Dream taking some time to lull Tommy into a false sense of security, only to spring a nightmarish punishment on him once the trauma bonding is back in full force, sends me utterly insane /pos >:3

Starting with an abruptly broken nose without any warning is absolutely something Hybrids!Dream would do :) And of course, you're right about him loving Hybrids!Tommy on the ground at his feet - where the avian belongs. Tommy would slip back into the habit of suppressing his vocalisations immediately, despite all the work Hybrids!Emeraldduo and others did to decondition him >:3 Grgrrgrrrr Dream's taunts never get less chilling, I love it!

The ribs, I imagine, is Dream's favourite area to injure on Tommy regardless of the AU :) There's just something so intimately agonising about it. Hybrids!Dream would definitely drag it out like you said; Hybrids!Tommy doesn't deserve a quick punishment after all. Every second of pain would hammer home the point that running away was a terrible mistake, and Tommy would regret it immensely >:3

Broken legs is such a wonderful whump trope, I adore it! Of course, it would make sense for Hybrids!Tommy to be unable to walk without his owner's assistance. Hybrids!Dream would ensure his little fledgling couldn't move a single inch without his discretion :)

Tommy falling deep into dissociation but still reacting viscerally to every blow is a brilliantly heartwrenching image! Those repressed memories of all the (torture) punishments would bubble to the surface like pus in a wound, and he'd drown in them >:3 Hybrids!Dream would take great pleasure injuring Hybrids!Tommy's wings, knowing exactly how traumatic that is. The effort Hybrids!Emeraldduo put into deconditioning the avian and helping him feel comfortable letting others touch his wings would all be for nothing :) The concept of Dream carving his name into Tommy will never not make me insane /pos, regardless of the AU!

Thanks so much for this ask and the other two Jesse, they mean a lot and I'm overjoyed to discuss these things with you <3333

[zombiifyd]

Hey mate uh what are those qphilza head canons you got that are driving you mad?

Asking for science

for science... yesyes. although some of them may be general hcs and not that well written??? i'm used to them living in my head. and also i'm not particularly all that normal about this bird man. so anything can make me go insane. but anyway... welcome to my word vomit

1. so ive made it known that i like to make minecraft hcs often. like for the game mechanics. and so i describe The End as in like a vacuum. there's hardly any sound, except a sort of static sound, and the sounds of the natives of the End. there's no temperature but end stone had a cold touch to it. it's hard to breathe in the End, unless you're a native there, and also because the End is basically mostly Void. so this is important for the hc that i made

although phil, in canon, is a crow. there's small entertainment within the fandom that he's also an elytrian (which is a type of native to the end... i suppose) either way, he's avian. now avian hearing is less sensitive than humans. but given the fact that phil is a hybrid, he has a mix of both which sort of clash. so i'd say that phil's ears are as sensitive, if not more, than humans. (especially shown with how phil hears literally everything.)

then, before coming to quesadilla island, he came from his season 4 hardcore world. living for YEARS on end by himself. the only company he had were the crows, the livestock, the sounds of nature outside, etc. so he isnt USED to all the sounds and clamor and people talking over each other to get their cents in. so when coming to the island and meeting everyone, the sound is absolutely overwhelming. he gets overwhelmed which leads him to step away for a bit just to hear silence just for a little bit. regain his bearings before stepping back into the crowd.

people would notice, especially close friends, but not really think about it. when tallulah would finally come around and he would then take care of her, he would use her (for himself and for her) to get out of loud situations. because both of their ears are sensitive. so phil understands what she goes through. and such and such.

2. there's this one !!

i love this hc so much, like the whole "friendship emeralds" thing means so much to me.

anyway, phil is a natural hoarder. which includes all sentimental things and materialistic things he needs. plus with crow/bird brain mentality, he likes shiny things. so giving out these emeralds, although so sparingly, means a LOT to him. meaning you mean so much to him and he trusts you. and a lot in that matter.

also, other people he would give it to:

i put it in the tags BUT: etoiles. his friendship emerald would be in the pommel of his axe/scythe (whichever he uses more than the sword). phil would've asked to see it, to maybe borrow it to see what enchantments etoiles has on it. but then changes the pommel to add in the emerald and handing it back to him. like its nothing.

another i put in the tags: cellbit. the emerald phil gave to him was just a regular emerald. i say it was given one day where they were hanging beside forever's bed whilst he was in a coma. cellbit was filling phil in on whatever happened/will happen in the order bc now he is an important member. and phil was like "oh right, i have something for you." and passed over the emerald with a small smile. and cellbit keeps it in safe keeping somewhere, because then he knew it was a token of phils trust and he cherishes it.

all the other kids would have one too, in various different accessories. dapper would have a keychain on his backpack, ramon would have a bracelet of it, same with richas and leo, and pomme would have a necklace!!

3. perching

this post is kind of the reason this is on the list. its not necessarily MY hc but.... i like thinking of this nonetheless.

but also just thinking abt how phil will perch around peoples places and they would take notice to it, and maybe even build something and not say anything. i once saw an art on here where there was phil and cellbit in the order's like... meeting room with all of the sofa's and everything. but instead of phil being on a sofa on cellbit's side, it was a perch instead. and i CANT stop thinking abt it. its so good.

bird man perching. not really a hc, i admit, but i shall make up for it

4. singing

DONT LISTEN TO THE STREAMER!!! i believe that qphil can SING!!!!!! but ofc, out and in character, phil is a self-deprecating man. so he would say "i'm shit at singing" but when he tries it and sings his kids songs, it doesnt sound half bad.

when building, farming, mining, or anything really, you can hear him hum. not any particular tune most times, but it sounds nice and calming nonetheless. and it fits him just right

although when singing jort storm he's being bad on purpose 🙏🏽

but just THINK about the coziness you'd feel in the bunker. the soft natural light of the shroom lights, the natural feeling from the moss and flowers in the room, the soft humming and singing from phil as he tucks his kids into bed. brushing some hair from their faces with a soft smile and helping them put away their things before he sits on the chair and waits until they fall asleep for him to leave. its so cozy and so nice to think abt that i cant even

5. touch/physical affection

now, this hc is one i made in the dsmp era. where phil didnt like to be hugged because all it made him think about what him killing his son. hugging wilbur as life slowly left him. it leaves a man scarred, yknow?? and he'd only ever accept hugs, scarcely, from techno. (bc techno isnt a touchy guy either.) but dsmp isnt canon in qsmp. not that i know of, and frankly, i dont want it to be because its weird to think about.

but even so, i think this hc would even transfer over to qsmp phil. and it definitely has to do something with his wings. the sensitivity of the area and how big they are when they're closed and tucked into his back. the habit he has, with close ones, to wrap his wings around them in an even warmer, bigger, hug. but with his wings so fucked up and the fact that he has to wear a backpack to counteract the lost weight.... i..........

either way, phil would then only accept scarce hugs from close friends. and when he doesnt give hugs, his friends do this: fit would always give a hard and good pat on the shoulder, a side hug perhaps, a good strong handshake. wilbur always gives phil a small lighthearted punch on the arm. missa rests his hand on phils shoulder and gives it a squeeze. forever, a naturally touchy man, would just simply lean into phil's side, give a handshake, or a simple smile. etc etc

but an exception to this were his children. (excluding will and tubbo from this, even though it is slightly canon that they are his sons,... in a way) chayanne and tallulah always get hugs from phil. waking up from a nightmare and phil has them wrapped in his arms, shielding them away from harm. happiness to see him after he comes back from a trip of wandering, his arms are wide open. anything for his kids.

6. wings :3

on my other acc (zmbiicrsh) i sometimes, very rarely, post snippets of writing that i do. and in one of them i explain phils wings briefly.

i think, personally, phil's wings are big. since he is a crow hybrid, he's a human... with crow wings scaled to his size. which are BIG. (and then also the feathers coalescing around his ears/cheek and forearm areas. blah blah blah) they're supposed to be big because of his size and nature. but i also think about the color a lot. from first glance, they're a jet black. black, silky, feathers. with patterns of white stars at the bottom (when they were full.......). but if you look closely in the sunlight. if he angled them just right, you'd be able to see the multicolored shine to it. a rainbow shine that glided along the edge of the feathers.

i think a lot abt his wings......

here are some of them!! ,,,, these arent much. but i cant seem to gather all of my scattered thoughts together to give more hcs i have. but i then compensated for just infodumping and giving context. i hope u enjoyed(?) :D

[hopepetal]

Not my best work but! TCD Scar has a Hard Time

@stiffyck

“I mean, really Scar, it’s not that hard of a- oh nuts!” At the avian’s surprised shout, Scar stopped walking, turning around just in time to see Grian die, his stuff scattering all over the ground as his death message popped up in the communicators with a soft buzz.

Normally, when this happened- and it happened quite often, mind you- Scar would laugh before pulling out his sword and killing whatever mob had landed a lucky shot on his friend. He would scoop up their stuff and place it carefully in a chest before sitting himself on top of said chest, making sure whoever had died wouldn’t be able to open it. He’d fully plan on giving them their stuff back, maybe after a bit of light hearted bartering.

And they’d laugh, and Scar would smile and feel happy because that was what he did! He made people laugh, he helped others feel better. That was his thing. That was his whole personality, making others feel better. After all, who knew what would happen if no one wanted him around anymore? He’d be alone. Gosh, that was a horrible thought, loneliness. 

Normally, when someone died, Scar would wipe his brow in light hearted relief. After all, that could’ve been him! It usually was him, if he was being perfectly honest. After securing all of the dropped items, he would pick up his communicator and begin relentlessly teasing whoever had been unfortunate enough to die. It would all be light hearted, no real heat behind the words, and eventually the event would be a distant memory.

Unfortunately for Scar, this was most certainly not a normal situation. 

The horrifyingly familiar moans of the undead caught his lungs in a vice grip, squeezing until his breath left him in a stuttering gasp. He stumbled back, feet catching on the uneven path as he scrambled for a weapon, nearly dropping his ax when he yanked it out and swung it wildly in front of him. The undead was not nearly as fast as he remembered- he had swung too early wasting energy wasting time wasting life stupidstupidstupid-

He swung his ax again just in time for it to catch the zombie across the chest, knocking  it back. It was just beginning to set in that Grian was dead, Grian was dead and that meant the infection had begun and he was going to be alone again.

A panicked scream tore its way from his throat as he swung his ax again, his attacks wild as he tried to see through tears. Letting out a broken sob as the zombie dissolved into nothingness, Scar collapsed to the ground, letting his ax fall. “Grian!” The heartbroken, grieving wail rang throughout the forest, the nearby birds flying up from the trees. “No, no no no I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” 

He had failed. Once again, he had failed to protect his friends. He’d grown too soft, too weak during his time in Hermitcraft. He had forgotten. Forgotten the pain and grief and sorrow the world held. Forgotten the loneliness that crept ever closer as the hordes of undead slowly took away his only friends. Forgotten that the universe was not kind, no matter how much it tried to insist otherwise.

And now his friends were all going to die because of it. Because he had forgotten the worst danger of them all: complacency. 

Scar didn’t even realize that he had left Grian’s things as he pushed himself to his feet and began to run. He’d have to make the avian a memorial later, he realized numbly, once he set up a proper shelter with defenses- many, many defenses.  

He was too deep in his memories to hear the familiar sound of wings beating, the voice of someone he thought well and truly gone calling out his name.