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#preening
moss-on-a-pebble · 9 days
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Have a doodle of Charlie preening her gf 🫶
I wanted to do some fluff of these two dorks since my last Chaggie post was angst lmfao
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jadewolf-photography · 9 months
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The Lovers
Scarlet Macaws Ara macao Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica
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sugerblu · 29 days
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Idk if you're still taking charlie/vaggie art suggestions, but if you are, here's some of the top of my head:
Vaggie slowing Charlie how to throw a spear
Charlie helping Vaggie preen her wings
Patching each other up after the fight with the angels
Charlie giving Vaggie her first eye patch after she heals enough to wear it
Charlie seeing Vaggie in a backless top for the first time (either to accommodate her wings being out or to show off the scars)
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wing care my beloved
again a bunch of cute ideas and I wish I could do them all :sob:
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ckducky · 1 month
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Good Girlfriend Grooming
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corvidist · 7 months
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Raven couple - Cabot Trail, Nova Scotia
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desenhanenha · 13 days
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qCellbit avian hybrid hmmmmmmm yes yes hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm + qRoier preening his feathers? Hmmmmmmmmmmm yes yes please
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rachiecrown · 5 months
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RAHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS PROMPT (screaming loudly) THANK YOUUU
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"I'm pretty sure it's alive." Grian stated, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. Mumbo fidgeted nervously as he stood next to Grian. Scar stared upwards, squinting as a cloud moved away from covering the sun.
The Entity stood tall over the trio, mossy and imposing. It looked like a rock. A rock with insect-like legs, that is. Why Grian was so incredibly obsessed with it, Mumbo and Scar didn't know. The two were beginning to worry, actually. Grian had poured his all into researching The Entity and its properties as of recent, and hadn't been taking proper care of himself as of late.
Mumbo could probably see Grian's eyebags from several chunks away if he squinted enough, he was sure. Scar thought he heard Grian's stomach rumble at one point.
"That does it, he's gone mad with lack of sleep and food." Mumbo spoke. Grian's wings twitched. His wings didn't look all that good, Mumbo thought. "What?" Grian asked, his head turning to face Mumbo.
"I wholeheartedly agree!" Scar chirped. He linked his right arm with Grian's left, and Mumbo copied, his left arm with Grian's right. Grian in turn flared his wings. "Hey, wait- Wait where are we going!?" The avian exclaimed as he was led away from The Entity.
He was dragged into his own home, to a chair, and was sat on it as Scar went to make some food and Mumbo pulled out a fence and trapdoor to act as a table. Grian stood. "I- You two can cook and nap in my house all you want, I need to get back to my research." He claimed.
As Grian turned to leave, however, Scar grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. "Oh no you don't, mister!" Scar chirped, turning and pushing him back down on the chair. "You need a good meal and a nap!" Scar turned back to cooking. Mumbo then added, "And the state of your wings.. They're in desperate need of preening."
"My wings are perfectly fine!" Grian claimed. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in them that suddenly made itself present as he flared them out. Mumbo tsked.
Scar then brought a dinner of baked potatoes, steak, and carrots to the table, balancing two plates on one arm as he sat down a third in front of Grian. "Dinner is served!"
"Don't expect me to eat all this now-" Grian began to say, but Scar tutted an set the other two plates down as Mumbo retrieved two stair blocks from his inventory to act as chairs. "You, sir, are going to eat as much as your stomach will let you."
Grian slumped and stared at the food in front of him. His servings were much bigger than Mumbo's and Scar's, and really, he wasn't very hungry for the mountainous pile of a delicious looking meal.
Well, maybe he could have another bite. He could feel himself salivating at the aroma of the seasoned potatoes, and his stomach grumbled at the sight of the juicy steak. His hand moved on its own and just grabbed the fork, stabbing into the potatoes and moving towards his mouth.
Well, there's nothing I can do about my hand moving on it's own... Grian thought, and before long, the plate was empty. He hadn't even realized how hungry he was.
"My, that went down quick." Mumbo commented, and Grian felt his face flush. "Listen here, it was good food, okay?"
"Aww, that means I'm a good cook!" Scar cooed. Grian shook his head fondly. "Thanks for the food and all, I'm getting back to resear-" Grian was cut off as Scar stood and grabbed him, lifting him over his shoulder. Grian shouted and flared his wings in surprise. "Not before you rest those sleepy birdie bones of yours!" Scar declared, heading towards Grian's room.
Grian kicked and squirmed. "Noo, I don't want to!" He complained as Scar brought him up the ladder. Mumbo was quick to follow, leaving his still half-finished meal on the table.
Grian was dropped onto his bed and Scar dusted off his hands in a showy way. Mumbo reached the second floor and put his hands on his hips as Grian sat up. "Guys, I'm not tired!" He complained, but was practically forced to lay back down as his friends kicked off their shoes and clambered into the blankets and sheets with him.
Surely not, they weren't- Were they babysitting him!? Grian flopped around and ended up on his stomach, Scar clinging to his arm and Mumbo sitting in the pillows. Grian turned his head to the side and huffed out, noticing Mumbo looking at him.
Reluctantly, Grian spread his wings out over the sheets and Scar, stuffing his face back into the blankets. "There's our birdie!" Scar cooed, and Grian reached over and put a hand in Scar's face. "Ohhoho! Noo!" He cried and sat up, his face out of Grian's reach. "You won't be stealing my nose this time!"
Mumbo chuckled. "He almost got it." He teased, only for Scar to reach and squeeze Mumbo's nose. "Heehee, got your nose!" Scar's voice went up an octave in playfulness and Mumbo rolled his eyes before grabbing Grian and pulling him over.
Together, Scar and Mumbo worked through Grian's feathers, gently tugging the loose ones out and straightening out the crooked ones. Leaves and twigs and moss were pulled out from the wings, and if Grian were to say he didn't enjoy the feeling of being handled so carefully, he'd be liar.
Grian let out a warble of contentment, forgetting about The Entity and his research with closing eyes. It could wait a few hours, alive or not. All that mattered to the pesky bird in his brain were Mumbo and Scar at this moment.
"I love it when he makes those bird noises, it's adorable." Scar whispered as if Grian couldn't hear. Grian's wings twitched when Mumbo promptly agreed.
Mumbo was soon finished with Grian's left wing, and Scar finished with Grian's right shortly. Gently, Mumbo pulled one last loose feather from one of the two smaller wings on the sides of Grian's head which sent Grian into a shudder. His feathers ruffled and he cooed loudly.
"Oho, what a mighty call!" Scar praised, grabbing Grian's face and pinching his cheeks. "Stoooop!" Grian half-mumbled and stuffed his face back into the sheets. Scar and Mumbo giggled.
Mumbo shifted and put himself under Grian's wing, one arm going over his back. Scar laid down and ran a hand through Grian's hair.
Distantly, Grian wondered how he got so lucky, warbling softly as his friends drew closer and embraced him. He tucked his head under Mumbo's chin, with Scar wrapping his arms around both.
Grian closed his eyes in comfort. He would rest, for now.
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crowned-aeris · 14 days
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For my reverse robins wingfic au:
just imagine Kon preening tim's feathers after the identity reveal :3
Tim's still a mess and won't speak with the family, he never learned how to preen himself, and so his wings have just been Fucked Up™️, so Kon helps fix the feathers before they start hurting 🥺
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malev0lent-entity · 1 month
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Adam loves getting his wings preened, usually by Lute but any of the Exorcists will do. 
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stormz369 · 1 month
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The King of Hell and Me: Ch 2 - Molting
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Chapter Guide Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4
Summary: Lucifer goes missing because he's embarrassed. Preening ensues. Wolf-demon reader. Warnings: fluff, Lucifer being bad at vulnerability, animal characteristics, implied arousal, rated mature (maybe?) Word Count: 3k
Lucifer had his own home, of course. But since the hotel’s grand re-opening, he’d been staying in his suite here. To be closer to Charlie, or to get himself out of his depression funk, or maybe both, it wasn’t clear. Either way, we’d found ourselves spending a lot of time together. We ate breakfast together most days, he told me all about his most recent duck-based inventions, and he was the only person I let into my office while I was doing my work for the hotel. Charlie had hired me as an all-purpose consultant, letting me work on any projects I wanted, and I dove straight into the advertising/community outreach/PR side of things. My work didn’t typically look like much until I had a completed product to present, so I didn’t like to have people watching my process, and as long as I kept her in the loop Charlie didn’t mind my secretive ways. But Lucifer was a creative mind too. He understood that sitting at my desk apparently doing nothing wasn’t actually nothing, and he let me be.
He was also the only person allowed to put things in my office, but that was only because he felt it was odd that I was a wolf without a pack, -because “Even hellhounds have packs, dear girl! Wolf-demons aren’t that uncommon, you need a family!”- and had started making one for me, a slowly growing pack of rubber ducks with wolf ears and fluffy tails. Every so often I’d find a new one in my office, and each one did something unusual. A pair facing each other on the windowsill had a laser between them that would alert us to intruders, but most were silly things like duck-wolves that could jump and growl, or were actually soap dispensers or changed color with the weather. 
It actually worked out to be a mutually beneficial relationship. We both had a tendency to dive headfirst into our hyperfixations, and when one of us did, the other usually managed to keep them from spiraling too far. He’d comb my hair and fur, and remind me to take breaks. I’d bring him dinner and get him out of his room when he was getting frustrated. One time I even sat in the bathroom taking notes while he talked so he could shower without losing his flow. We weren't exactly romantic, but it was far more emotionally intimate than any romantic relationship I’d ever had. And, with no one else filling that role for either of us, we did end up on the receiving end of a lot of ‘old married couple’ jokes. 
And that’s why, when he suddenly just wasn’t at the hotel one morning, I got a bit nervous. And, I’ll be honest, frustrated. I reminded myself that just because we typically spent breakfasts together didn’t mean we had to every day. Just because he’d told me every time he was leaving the hotel for the last few months didn’t mean he was beholden to me. We were friends, but he wasn’t mine and I couldn’t tell him what to do. I had no right or reason to be put off by this unexpected change to my routine. So I ate breakfast alone, went down to my office to work alone, and … couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t focus, everything was just a bit off. I should be able to hear his breathing, see his faint glow out of the corner of my eye, feel his hands in my hair. But I was entirely, soul crushingly, alone. 
I texted him every day for the first week. Then once every few days, which quickly became once a week, but he never responded. He didn’t even look at them. I was starting to think he might be mad at me, but I couldn’t imagine what I could have done to upset him so much. I started working evenings, finding it less uncomfortable to be alone at night, but I had trouble getting much done either way. Charlie started bringing me breakfast in my office when everyone else had dinner. I appreciated that she was making sure I ate, but I was just as worried about her as she was about me. Lucifer hadn’t reached out to her either, and he wasn’t taking her calls, and her calm facade was starting to crack. At least she had Vaggie though. I was just alone.
A month into his disappearance I was working late again. Everyone was in bed, and I was trying to finish up this advertising campaign mock up for Charlie, when I heard the door of the hotel creak open. My ears perked up, and I cracked my office door open, listening carefully. I couldn’t make out who had come to visit. There were footsteps, light and airy but far too heavy to be Lucifer. I sniffed the air, glad for my more animalistic senses, hoping to catch some kind of clue. Friend, or foe? Welcome, or defend? The air smelled … musty, and damp. Something was very off.
I flicked my wrist, extending my claws, and made my way silently down the dark hallway. The intruder stumbled up the stairs, it would be silent to those without acute hearing, but I heard every step. I followed along, trying to visualize where they were from the sounds. They made their way past the elevator and up more flights of stairs, and I tracked along behind them, staying a floor below them to avoid detection. I wanted to know who they were, but I also wanted to know what they were looking for. When they finally made their way down a hallway, I glowered. They were on Charlie’s floor. I waited, listening halfway up the stairs so I could pounce if needed, until I heard them stop at a door. I jumped up, landing a few feet away from the short, trenchcoat clad figure. They jumped, pressing themself against the wall as if they could disappear through it, and dropped … a key?
“... Lucifer?” I whispered.
He turned toward me, a sheepish grin on his face. “... Heeey … I’m home!”
I sighed, scooping up his key and unlocking his door, gesturing for him to go inside. “Don’t wake Charlie.”
He nodded, darting inside. His footfalls were too heavy, he was hunched over a bit, and his back looked bulky under his coat. Something was wrong. He sat awkwardly on the couch, kicking his feet a bit. “Sooo … How’ve you been?”
“How have I been? … Luc, where have you been? … Y- you didn’t call, you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, or when you’d be back, you sneak in in the dead of night in whatever that is, you smell like a drowned bird, and you’re walking like an injured dog. And you ask how I’ve been???” A deranged laugh ripped its way out of my throat as I collapsed onto the seat next to him. “... Do you even care that we’ve all been worried sick? … I … you didn’t text me back … You were just … gone.”
He flinched a bit, hesitantly reaching for my hand. “... I .. I’m sorry, puppy … I didn’t mean to scare you. I just … I had something to attend to.”
I sighed softly, letting him take my hand. “What was so important that you couldn’t even tell us you were ok?”
“I … just had to …” He sighed. “Look, it’s kind of embarrassing, ok? I …” He mumbled something, a low whine in the back of his throat masking his words.
“... What was that?”
“I’m molting, ok?” He whined, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m molting, and I can’t comfortably put my wings away until it’s over, and they’re ugly right now! So I just … I thought I’d just go to the manor until it was over. I was only coming back tonight to get my sketchbook so I could work on a project…”
I blinked a bit, trying not to laugh. “... Right. … Just so I’m clear, cause I didn’t really interact with birds on earth. Molting is the one where birds lose a bunch of feathers and get new ones, right?” He nodded. “And it’s a yearly thing?”
He nodded again, “For most birds. Angels get a little one each year, and a big one each decade. It takes forever! It’s … unpleasant. Messy …” He grumbled softly; “humiliating.”
“Humiliating? It’s just part of having wings, isn’t it? How is that humiliating?”
“... You’ve seen my wings, what did you think of them?”
I let out a sigh, thinking. “... They’re bigger than I expected, but that makes sense since you’re not a bird. They’d have to be pretty big to lift you up … unless you’ve got hollow bones and they’re just ostentatious?” I chuckled a bit, hoping to lighten his mood, but it didn’t seem to work. “... They’re beautiful, and they look really soft … You look so majestic when you fly …”
“Exactly. … Beautiful. Majestic. That’s what they’re supposed to be … but when the molt comes they’re … really not that. … Molting is messy, and itchy, and … gross! … I look like a plucked chicken under this coat…” He whined softly, frustrated tears pricking at his eyes as he hid his face in his hands. “And the worst part is that I can’t even rush it along like we did in heaven, because I can’t reach!”
“... Can’t reach? … Do you have to pluck something, or?”
He nodded. “At the end of the molt the new feathers have these keratin sheaths that have to be removed … In heaven we’d get a few trusted angels together and circle up, but I can’t do that here! So I just have to wait for them to peel off on their own!”
I frowned softly, gently stroking his shoulder. He whined softly, looking at me hesitantly. “Lucifer, … I’m sure this is a … sensitive topic, and I’m sure there’s a reason you didn’t ask, but … if you wanted to ask, … I would help. And I promise, I wouldn’t judge you for what they look like right now, or talk to anyone else about it, or anything like that … It’s just like when you got that matt out of my fur, that was pretty embarrassing for me, but I couldn’t see it well enough to get it out myself. So you sat down with me, and you took a set of combs, and detangling spray, and a pair of scissors, and you fixed it for me. … You could have just cut it out, but you didn’t. You sat there and meticulously detangled it for hours, and then you trimmed everything so it wouldn’t get bad so easily again. Remember? … I could do the same for you.”
He nodded slowly, sighing softly. “I just … I didn’t want you to see … you don’t understand, they look really bad right now …”
“So did my neck.”
He thought for a moment, sighing before he carefully slipped the ugly beige trench coat off. His wings were pressed firmly against his back, almost trembling. He turned away, letting me get a good look at them. The majority of his flight feathers had already gone through the process, but about half of the fluffy down feathers were still encased, or partially encased, in cylindrical sheaths. I smiled softly, gently stroking down his spine. “It really doesn’t look so bad, Luci. Let’s get comfy, ok? Do you wanna lay down somewhere?”
A shiver went up his spine, and his wings attempted to puff up in response. It did look a bit sad, but I wasn’t gonna tell him that. He was feeling uncomfortable enough as it was. His wings were usually a source of great pride for him, I wasn’t about to make this harder for him. He slowly nodded, and carefully got up. I followed him to his bedroom, a little concerned by how wobbly he seemed.
“... Luc, is the molt really the only thing that’s going on? You seem a bit … off?”
He collapsed onto his bed, pulling a pillow under his chest and crossing his arms under himself. “It’s enough … The little molts take a lot of energy, but the big ones … The big ones really suck … I’ve been in bed pretty much since I left …”
I nodded, sitting next to him. “I see … so, I just start peeling these things off the feathers?”
He nodded. “Gently, please … You can roll them a bit if they resist, but if that doesn’t work move on to the next one. Most of them should be ready though.”
I hummed softly, gently taking the wing in front of me and carefully extending it. He groaned softly, following my movements compliantly. I let the wing rest on my legs and began carefully sliding my fingertips over the little cylinders. Most of the keratin sheaths started to flake and crumble away under my touch, and I carefully rolled the slightly more resistant ones between my fingers. Under my touch, fluffy down and contour feathers began to emerge. I gently brushed the debris away, careful of my claws. I knew I had to do this perfectly; to prove he could trust me with things like this. He wasn’t moving or making any noises though, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.
I worked methodically from the bottom where his wing attached to his back, up and out to the wingtip, periodically brushing the detritus away and stroking his freshly exposed feathers. I finished the right side and got halfway through the wings on the left before I ran into one that started to peel away, but then didn’t want to budge. I was about to move on like he’d told me, but I paused when I heard the first noise Lucifer made since I started touching his wings; a high pitched whine. He squirmed uncomfortably, and his wings ruffled up a bit.
“... Luci? D- did I hurt you?”
“Noooo … I want it off …” He whimpered softly, pressing his face into the pillow. “... C- Can you scratch it a bit? Just a bit!”
I nodded, humming softly my agreement, and carefully ran a claw along the sheath. His high whine returned, but this time it seemed a bit more … pleased? I scratched again, watching little bits of the sheath peel away. After just a little bit more the sheath fell away entirely, releasing its fluffy feather, and Lucifer sighed happily. 
“Ohhh fuck~ … Oh, that’s so much better! Your hands are magic~” He moaned softly, bringing a blush to my cheeks.
I cleared my throat; “... I’m glad you’re liking it, Luc.”
I carefully continued to the tip of his wing. There were only a few that hadn’t been ready to go yet, and his wings were back to their full, shiny, fluffy glory. He sighed happily, but didn’t move to get up, so I just continued to stroke his feathers.
“Ahh~ … Puppy, that’s wonderful~ … But y- … you do know, wings are sensitive, yeah?” He slowly lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at me. The heat on his face made me squirm shyly, and I shakily removed my hands.
“S- Sorry … I …” I blushed bright red, scooting backwards. He whined softly, slowly sitting up and facing me.
He shakily reached for my hand, running his thumb over my fingers. “... I wasn’t trying to make you stop. …”
I blushed even more, looking up at him shyly. “... So … should I continue?”
He slowly lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. “... Only if you wish to.”
I nodded slowly, shakily pushing him to lay back down. He did, watching me out of the corner of his eye, and I straddled his hips, stroking his wings gently.
“... They’re so beautiful, Luci … You are beautiful …” I was mesmerized, letting my hands trail along the soft feathers. 
He sighed happily, settling under me. “... I cannot believe I let this go on for a full blessed month when I could have had your hands on me this whole time …”
I chuckled softly, continuing to preen him gently. “Never again, yes? You come to me for this, whenever you need it. Or even if you just want it. … You take care of me, and I take care of you.”
“Because we’re an old married couple.” He nodded, yawning softly. “Yes, love, anything wifey wants~”
I blushed brightly, trying desperately to stop the squeak from leaving my mouth. Others had called us a married couple before, mostly to tease us, but we had never said it. “... That’s right, husband. Anything I want.”
He smirked slightly. “Husband … I like the way that word sounds when you say it ... If you’re not careful, I might just make you my wife for real …”
“... And what exactly would ‘being careful’ look like?”
“Oh, you know. Not letting me touch you anymore, keeping me out of your office, making fun of my ducks. … Taking your hands off my wings would definitely count as being careful.”
I chuckled softly, steeling my nerves and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. I whispered against his ear; “sounds like a horrible way to live. I think I’ll take my chances.”
His eyes flew open, looking up at me. A bright red blush spread across his face, and a hesitant smile graced his lips. “... I agree. A horrible way to live.”
He carefully slid out from under me, turning around so I was in his lap instead, and gently cupped my cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb. I leaned into his touch, sighing happily, and he slid his hand up to stroke my fluffy wolf ear. An almost electric feeling shot through me, leaving me gasping, and I hesitantly looked up at him. He smirked slightly, pulling me closer and kissing me softly before he whispered in my ear; “Now don’t give me that look, love~ You’ve been doing it to me this whole time~”
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lordofdestructionm · 2 years
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SAME ENERGY
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julunis14 · 10 months
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Cute princess spotted preening in public! ... nomnomnom....
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flock-talk · 11 months
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This video has it all:
Gay Love
Coming on TOO STRONG
Foot fetish
Synchronized Scratches
Attempting to shove your husband off a cliff
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crows-before-bros · 10 months
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Needed to get some fresh air today, got shots of these goobers hanging out. Crowbro on the left is missing a claw on their left foot.
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corvidist · 4 months
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Wholesome Pigeons - Halifax, Nova Scotia
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rubystims · 1 year
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bluejay gifset with some of them preening for anon !! source | source source | source
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