#Avian AU

[timmydraker]

CW: amputation

Tim was born with wings.

There were tiny at first, so small the doctors didn’t even notice. It was after a few months the little nubs became visible and as soon as they noticed, that was it. They were growing.

By two years old they were three times his size and he wasn’t allowed to leave the house. His parents own a medical company yet they couldn’t figure out how the hell such a deformity could ever exist. They hired very specific doctors to help them and forced them to sign NDA’s, though even if they did people would probably just think it was usual Gotham horse shit.

So, they cut them off.

At two years old his wings were removed and shut away in a box in the basement and after that, Tim Drake stopped being the happy little boy he was. His second year of life was spent in agony as the wounds healed and he learnt to walk again without the normal weight, and that slight discomfort and phantom pain didn’t leave even after he met Batman.

It got worse when he became Robin and knew he was hiding his two disgusting humerus bone nubs left protruding his middle back.

He manages to keep it hidden for several years, but it’s when he’s newly seventeen that he gets hit too bad. A grenade he managed to dodge the explosion from, but that knocked him off a roof and onto a railing.

It’s agony as he lands on his left and feels his ribs shatter and snap, but luckily he passes out and doesn’t feel much of it.

Unfortunately, that also means he can’t insist on doing his own medical assessment like he usually does and Alfred and Dick do it themself.

Alfred notices first and freezes, which makes Dick come over to see.

Neither of them have the chance to hide it from Bruce who surpassingly accepts it quickly and is instead crushed that his son didn’t trust him with such a vital part of he he is.

Tim tells them the real story when he wakes and admits that’s why he didn’t take his parents house after they died and just left it vacant, so he wouldn’t have to accidentally find the bones of his lost life.

When Jason and Dick go with him, Damian as well though he tries to say it’s because he’s bored when really he doesn’t want to be left out on his brothers new chapter.

As requested, Jason goes to find the box for him and he finds it after an hour of looking, only… the wings haven’t decayed.

They’re also moving.

[astermagnolia]

if the batfam were birds what kind of birds would they be each? And what kind of mers would the dp cast be?

this is for a avian/mer dp x dc future fic (that I won't write anytime soon) 😔

Edit: I JUST REMEMBERED ABOUT STYGIAN OWLS

So. Bruce = Stygian Owl

Tim = Magpie

Jason = Loggerhead shrike

Steph = purple-throated carib

Dick = Crescent-caped lophorina (the blue bird in the reblog)

Cass and Damian will also be some kind of owls. Damian because he biologically related to Bruce and Cass cause she's the most silent.

So that leaves Duke

[cryptid-crw]

It's been a long day...

... and sometimes, wings get banged up in the process.

Funny, how intimacy can come so soon after such hardship, no?

-

decided to clean up and line the sketch from yesterday for @allmightyscroll-swag and I's alesium au (aka delysium with wings)

check under the cut for the lines, which I lowkey like more than the colours

also i love how differently the first time I drew harry to the second (this one) is ... like... who the fuck is this man /silly

[nebulaoz]

guess whoo finisheddddd

this shit took so long

it took 4 HOURS

hopefully you bylers like this

its for my au and my bsf

[sunflowers-and-scales]

beanix wright more like bluenix ami wright

(this is kind of avian au so uhhhh @okartichoke)

[mmmn-thirsty-for-vinegar]

I fits, I sits (redraw)

[darthglowstick-art]

Some long haired vash from the avian AU as a treat

[moonlit-dreamers]

avian au drabble

for context, they r teens in this. when they first met they had a small language barrier and i wanted to write a small bonding moment

Sun doodles with his claw in the soft sand by the shore of the lake.

"Whatcha drawing?" Moon looks over curiously.

"Nothing much!" Sun giggles. "Just some random stuff."

Moon nods and watches quietly. On days when the sky is cloudy with the sun peaking through they enjoy going by the lake. It isn't too bright or too hot so they can safely stay out of the shade without burning up.

Moon decides he wants to make his own doodles. He's never been as good at art as Sun, but he still enjoys the occasional mindless sketching.

He carefully circles his claw in the sand. It's easy to move around and its damp enough to not just fly away and ruin the drawing. He smiles and draws a simple flower.

Sun looks up and chirps something that Moon doesn't understand.

"What?" Moon looks up at Sun.

Sun makes the same chirping sound and points at Moon's drawing.

"Flower?" Moon tilts his head.

"Is that how you say it?" Sun tilts aer head as well.

"Is that what youre saying?"

Sun nods enthusiastically and makes the same chirping sound.

Flower.

[woah-hello]

⊹˚₊ Some another portion of peacefulness ₊˚⊹

[sky-neverending]

gonna do a little avian!soc au and this is my braid idea of what types of birds/avains they’d be! cause i love wingfics

crow Kaz

mockingbird Wylan

purple martin Jesper

snowy egret matty

black legged falcon inej

house finch nina

[slyvester101]

The reds and blues as mer! (with a few exceptions)

Tex

Osprey: Dark brown, almost black, wings. Completely waterproof and meant to cut through the water, so she’s a fast swimmer. Likes doing this thing where she dives into the water and comes up flicking water up behind her. 

A really good hunter since her eyes let her track motion under the water. It’s how she met Church since she mistook him for a really big fish but instead pulled out a really cranky eel. 

She keeps him around for entertainment (and maybe because he’s cute. Sue her). Likes to surprise fish Church out of the water and take him on flights around the coast. Has taken him into the actual mainland city once or twice (It was not a date!... this time). 

Church

Eel: long thin tail that shimmers blue like the ocean. Fast motherfucker. Can’t hunt for shit though, always over/underestimating his shots. Sharp teeth often curled up in a growl. Technically considered a deep dweller and will bite you in the face if you call him a 'mer'.

He spends most of his time hanging out in small caves/crevices, but can be lured out through a wide range of means (including but not limited to blackmail, bribes, “Tex will be there”, making him think it’s his idea, or doubting his hunting skills).

“Hates” when Tex picks him out of the water for a fly around the coast. Is surprisingly good at bartering on the mainland for the most random shit, it’s scary impressive. 

Tucker

Anglerfish: is covered in rough scales ranging from sandy yellow to rock gray. Also has barnacles growing on parts of his tail and the base of his back fins (it helps camouflage him better). Instead of the single glowing bait a typical anglerfish has, Tucker is the bait, with glowing marks that can mimic a wide range of animals. Easier to see in the dark, but still visible during the day. Also considered a deep dweller, but doesn't care if you call him a 'mer'.

His tail is meant for speed and strength, very lean and angular so he can cut through the water (had to give up some speed when he added barnacles to his body). Back fins are jagged and can stretch like a cat with its hairs on end. Uses a lot of energy to swim so he can often be found lounging in the sun to recharge.

His eyes are bright aqua and reflective, shining back any light that comes into them. It freaks some people out (many people think it's cool too). Also has claws that blend into the pitch black of his arms, where the scales are much tougher. Sharp teeth.

Junior

Anglerfish: similar looking to Tucker, but y’know, still a baby with softer scales and dull claws. Practically attached to Tucker for the first few years after he was born, but will now willingly attach to any of the reds and blues (Church and Grif are usually on baby duty since they are the least likely to do something dangerous/leave the safety of the cave. Junior really likes going swimming with Caboose since he can piggyback ride and Caboose goes really fast. Simmons has no idea what to do with a child. Donut dotes on him like a wine aunt. Sarge’s first response to meeting Junior was to toss him up into the air to see if he could fly. He is no longer allowed to hold Junior.)

Caboose

Whale Shark: Big. Like, stupid big. Don’t ask to meet his family because it is all females and they are all much bigger than Caboose. Blue tail and fins with fun spots and patterns in white. 

Has to eat either very small cut food or a shit ton of plankton. Likes helping in hunts even though he’s not very good at it and doesn’t eat fish. Usually. 

Would hang out on the surface more, but he's a bit too big to fit comfortably, so he either has to pop up a bit further from shore or be very, very careful not to run into anything.

Grif

Nurse shark: long, thick gold-orange tail and fins. Surprisingly quick for his size, but prefers the old ‘sit and wait for someone to come by’ method of hunting. Can be found chilling in a cave in the depths with Simmons, often trying to convince Simmons to come take a nap with him or to go get him food since he doesn’t like hunting. 

Has the many rows of sharp teeth sharps typically have, but they are smaller and not quite as scary as Tucker’s rows of teeth. Also not the most ferocious of fish, which is disappointing to Sarge who thought having a shark on his team would give him an advantage. Unfortunately for him, Grif is a rather docile shark that eats small animals, not the big, violent stereotype land and sky dwellers like to associate with him.

If not chilling in the depths with Simmons, he’s watching Sarge trying to teach the reds how to fly from a warm spot under the water (Sarge couldn’t get him to pop out of the water if his life depended on it). 

Simmons

Betta fish: bright red scales and flowy, cloth-like fins that are surprisingly durable. Able to handle low oxygen levels and versatile environments, so he’s able to hang out in the depths with Grif. 

Still territorial as most betta fish are, but less of a you come into my territory and I’ll rip you apart way and more of a if you ever separate me from my pod I will make it everyone’s problem way.

Prefers the depths to the surface, often stowed away with Grif for extended periods of time. Which is a shame given how much Simmons would love to research land and sky dwellers. Alas, he will have to make do with the books he collects in a little cove far away from any mer who may wish to bother him.

Donut

Betta Fish: similar to Simmons but pink and with bigger fins. Actually enjoys the surface but likes hanging with his friends in the depths too. 

Not territorial unless his friends are put in danger. Friends with basically anyone he comes across and personally knows a lot of Wash’s flock. Likes to chill on rocks by the coast so he can talk to others mer/avians. 

Sarge

Red-billed Seagull: white—i mean red wings with black lining the edges (totally not dyed or something, what? What gave you that idea?). Feathers are a little janked up and several are always missing (he’s trying to get these good for nothing fish to fly by giving them his feathers, goddamnit). Not the best flier around.

Has bird-like feet: a classic three toed birdie with red protective bone wrapping up to his thighs. His legs are slightly thinner than the rest of his body, but otherwise just look like weird looking legs.

Can squawk like nobody's business. Please do not ask him to squawk if you want to keep your ears.

Lopez

Crab: he is a spanish speaking crab. Just, a whole ass crab.

He talks a lot of shit for someone without opposable thumbs

[moicat]

Dove medic.

[astermagnolia]

all your wips sound interesting but tell me more about deaging and mer/avain au

the deage one was inspired by a Tumblr prompt and fic where the first three/all Robin's de-aged and Batman as takes care of them. So I decided to throw Danny into the mix. How it all started was a cult summoning gone wrong and now Bruce has to take of the first three robins and a now de-aged ghost king (Danny). All the kids have their memories but it's mixed/foggy with their whatever mentality age they're at. It's gonna kinda be a slice of life as Bruce takes care of his kids and this other black-haired blue-eyed child who is also the ghost king, mixed with angst and a little bit of plot

Mer/avian: all the DC characters are avians and DP characters are mers but Danny can transform between avian and mer (idk how weird magic shit). I kinda wanna do star-crossed lovers, the whole avians hate mers and vice versa, but I can't decide between Danny/Tim or Danny/Damian (leaning towards Deadtired) haven't figured everything out for this fic but that's some of the overarching points.

[lennjamin-o7]

Burden the Hand

The fabric on top of the cage was pulled off with a flourish. Technoblade flinched and closed his eyes at the sudden light. Gasps and murmurs and laughter grated on his heart as he struggled to clear his sight and mind. “-we were able to procure an avian hybrid for your royal highnesses,” The auctioneer said finally. Technoblade squinted, trying to see through the blurriness of the brightness. “Pulled directly from the traded territory of the Retired Tundra, only began presenting as a hybrid one month ago! This hybrid's instincts are well within the timeframe to make a perfectly docile pet.” Technoblade is an Avian hybrid. They are considered divine inside the Antarctic Empire. He did not live in the Antarctic Empire. He lived in Hypixel, where the Hybrid Market was alive and well. Technoblade is taken to be sold at the International Council, a meeting between many of the biggest kingdoms in the world. He meets the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire.

Make sure to read the tags.

[nebulaoz]

struggling with drawing wolves omg

heres some avian steve too

[plasma-studios]

The Weight of Wings

Cross has had a long history of the wings on his back screwing him over, but this might just take the cake. It's not the first time a ruler's vastly overestimated him, but how on earth was he to take the life of the Nightmare God? It was frankly ridiculous.

The fellow Avian that's also been abducted by the frankly rather mad King for the same purpose fully agrees. What was his name again? Dream?

Or: Cross's an enslaved Avian who must now find a way to kill the Nightmare God (which may or may not be an Avian Nightmare that's just gained quite a reputation through the centuries) or risk his new master's wrath. At least he has the lovely company of another Avian named Dream, who definitely isn't Nightmare's brother, what?

Sequel to two bleeding birds (x), inspired by How to Fly with Clipped Wings by lockergirl.

Chapter 1: To be Winged

Cross' childhood occurs within the decorated halls of the Church. For a time, he doesn't think much about the wings on his back, even as the Priests around him debate and question his origins; he's perfectly content to exist as he is now.

That is, until the Queen of their nation decides she wants the Church's little Avian, and barters with the Priests for Cross.

There were many theories about the origin of Avians. Some thought they were gifts of life from the Mother of All. Some even believed them to be Her children. Angels, they called the reverently. Demigods, too. Gifted with power, blessed with glory. And when an Avian’s wings were fully stretched out, their glory was hard to deny. Though perhaps labelling that as divinity was a tad melodramatic.

Some thought them to be demons from hell. Cursed to be forever inhuman, to be forever stuck between sky and earth. Beasts, one’s voice said whilst trembling with fear. A number thought they were more animal than anything. Stories arose of feral creatures as predator as one could be. Wild, untamed creatures of instinct and raw power, rather than beings of celestial origin. 

Avians were so rare that one would more likely meet an angel or demon than meet one, so it wasn’t as if there was much public knowledge about the fabled creatures. There were only theories, and oh, the people thrived off mysteries such as them. Be it with reverence, fear, or disdain, the people simply loved to talk about Avians. They loved to theorise, or perhaps they loved to hear other people theorising. 

Personally, Cross didn’t subscribe to any one theory. His own opinion of his own regularly shifted from “curse” to “blessing” at any one moment in the day. Most of the time, he felt nothing about his wings. They were no miracle, but nor were they a terrible curse; they’d been with him for as long as he could remember, and he was sure that he’d remember some divine being blessing him or some wretched thing cursing him.

The Priests held opinions that were slightly different from his own, by virtue of the fact that he did not have any opinions about being winged. They all seemed to vaguely believe that his existence was by the action of some God, but they could not seem to agree on the same God, nor on the same reason, nor on anything else. Even simple things like how he’d even gotten to the Church in the first place were subject to debate.

When he asked, the first reply he’d gotten was that he’d been left swaddled in blankets on the doorstep of the Church as a babe. “By who?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Some unknown benefactor,” A Priest added with a tiresome tone.

On other days, with other priests, his question would’ve received different answers. The Mother of All delivered you to us, so we’d be able to raise you in pious presence. Cross would’ve probably appreciated the lengthier answer more if he understood what pious meant. 

You fell down from the heavens, straight into our Church was another one. Once, he’d watched a star falling down from the sky, leaving a streak of light behind it. A Priest had called it a shooting star. Did that mean he was a star? 

“Yes—” “No!”

They had spoken at the same time, and were now glaring at each other. A third Priest quickly ushered him away. “Come now, Cross,” They had spoken to him, calling him by what they had named him. At least the origin story for that was constant; he’d been named after the simple pattern in the blankets he’d been swaddled in as a babe: simple, criss-crossing lines in otherwise plain cloth (or so some claimed, because others said it had been the finest linen). It had meant to be a temporary nickname, but it had stuck.

Cross didn’t fully understand their theories even when they quoted doctrine and claimed truth, because everything felt much too grand for the pair of wings on his back. They were just like his arm, or his leg. What made them so special?

Once, a Priest had taken one look at him and called him demon.

Cross never saw them again after that, and if he asked about it, the conversation was quickly redirected. Secretly, though, he pondered it. Demons were fallen angels, right? And supposedly, he’d fallen from the skies. If he was not a star, was he an angel? A fallen angel?

“Am I a fallen angel?” He’d asked once. He’d been met with silence, then was quickly hushed, with so many Priests talking over each other that he couldn’t make much sense of their words. 

Gradually, the Priests stopped discussing the nature of his existence as he reached the ages were he began understanding words and retaining information. He didn’t mind that all that much. He was perfectly content to exist as he was now. 

A day came when the Priests were fussing over him more than they usually did. He’d thought nothing much of it even as he was being dressed in the fancier robes usually reserved for holy days, and the simple ah, must’ve forgotten about some occasion was a passing thought. 

It was when Cross was brought to a room instead of the banquet hall that he began to realise that the occasion was not quite another holy celebration. 

He would later learn that the woman he came face to face with was the Queen of their nation. In the moment, though, all he knew instinctively was that she was not another Priest, for she had been dressed not in the holy hues of white but in a deep wine red. She had also been adorned with more jewellery than considered appropriate for Priests, though the crown on her head should’ve surely clued Cross in on her identity before a Priest discreetly gestured for him to bow.

He did, a moment later.

She looked him over, tilted her head, and nodded. “What’s your price?”

Cross had not entirely made sense of the matter until the affair was already complete, and he was taken by the hand by the Queen’s guards and led out the room. The Priests quickly caught up to them, but as they spoke to him, he could only make sense of only one thing of all that they were telling him: he was being made to leave.