#birds writing hell

[birdsaretoddlers]

no static shock tonight but im writing something infinitely funnier i think

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lap Pillow

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[archangeldyke-all]

ok hear me out angel, what about reader asking sevika about Isha’s family? Like wondering if they shouldn’t find her family or anything.

Maybe Sevika could open up about her own past with her abusive father and confess that she relates to Isha because she was probably either an orphan or running away from a toxic environment?

idk if you share my vision but I loveee when Sevika is vulnerable.

🖤

god :,) i love this

men and minors dni

as a family, you've all been learning sign language to better communicate with isha.

the girl is young and restless, and she gets frustrated easily when her hands can't keep up with her thoughts. she would rather just use jinx's surprisingly good interpretation of her facial expressions to communicate.

so, none of you are experts yet, but isha is able to tell you all a little bit more about herself the more she learns.

she doesn't know how old she is, but in the mines she was grouped with kids aged 4-6. so she's close to there.

she doesn't have any parents, and she doesn't remember ever having parents.

and when she met jinx, she had made an escape from the mine camps she was raised in, being chased by goons wanting to bring her back. tiny hands are useful in mines. and isha was a for-lifer.

isha explains this all to you slowly, over time, mostly with jinx's encouragement. and living in the undercity, stories like isha's aren't as rare as they should be. so you're all a little numb to the true horror of isha's life before jinx.

it hits you all at different times.

jinx is the first person to shed tears for isha. you wake up in the middle of the night to horrified screams coming from the girls' room, and both you and sevika sprint in, fearing the worst.

it's just isha having a nightmare, but it's still heartwrenching to watch as she sobs and shakes and screams out in her sleep. jinx is the only one who could wake her up, her voice seeming to break through the horrors for poor isha. the girl snaps awake with a gasp, launching into jinx's arms with a relieved cry.

"w-what happened, kiddo?" jinx whispers, her voice shaky.

isha quickly, shakily signs something only jinx can see, and she bursts into tears, wrapping isha up in a hug.

"what was it? what'd she say?" sevika asks.

jinx shakes her head. "'canary went quiet.'" she says, shakily. "she dreamt about the mines suffocating her."

you shiver, and sevika sighs heavily. both of you crawl onto the floor, preparing for a long night of soothing the kids to sleep.

the next person who cries about it is you.

you stumble to the kitchen in the middle of the night in search of a glass of water and catch isha in the fridge, stuffing her face with leftovers from dinner.

"you wan' me to warm that up for you, kiddo?" you ask around a yawn.

isha jumps and stumbles to her feet, her eyes wide and fearful, the food splattering to the floor. sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-- she signs over and over.

you blink. "no-- what? don't worry about it baby, 's just some spilled rice--"

isha bursts into tears and starts tugging at her hair, worry consuming her, you gasp, darting forward and pulling her in for a hug. she flinches just a bit before she realizes you aren't going to hurt her, and your heart shatters.

"isha, baby, you can eat as much food as you want, whenever you want." you whisper into her blue hair. isha moans against you. "that's a rule here. you'll never be in trouble for taking food. even if it's jinx's 'secret' cookies." isha giggles a little at this, and you start to cry, burying your face against her scruffy head of freshly dyed blue hair.

you both cry until isha's stomach grumbles, and then you burst into giggles.

"c'mon. i'll make you your favorite if you help me." you say, standing from the floor and flicking a light on. isha gasps.

blueberry pancakes? she signs with a grin. when you nod, isha darts forward and hugs your legs. thank you ms. baby. she signs. it makes you start to cry again.

sevika's the last one to crack, but that doesn't surprise you.

what does surprise you is how open she is about it.

isha asks about family one evening over dinner. it's got you all a little emotional, the sweet questions she signs.

is this family? she asks first.

a few forks clatter onto plates, and it's silent. isha's inquisitive gold eyes dart around the table, waiting for one of you to speak. sevika looks at you you look at isha.

jinx speaks. "close enough, yeah." she says.

you grin, and bite your lip. sevika sighs.

is there more? isha asks.

all your smiles immediately fall as the solemn topic of more family, alive and dead, is brought up.

jinx sighs. "you know vi, my sister, the asshole cop." she mutters. isha giggles at the curse. "i... had parents. don't remember much of 'em. mostly, i remember the stories vi would tell me about 'em. felicia and connel. they died when i was young. then i had a few brothers and vander... and they died too..."

isha pouts and darts forward to hug away jinx's far away look.

sevika takes over while jinx starts stroking isha's hair.

"then she had silco. and me, i guess." she says with a shrug. jinx smiles a little.

"do you have any family in zaun, sev?" jinx asks.

you reach out and grab sevika's hand, and she kisses your knuckles before speaking slowly.

"i had a dad. we had a... shaky relationship." she says simply. jinx understands this, and she hums with a nods. isha's blinking at sevika with big eyes, listening intently. "he died hating me, i mean we were always feuding. but then sometimes, we weren't feuding, and..." she shakes her head and huffs. "and after that i kinda thought family was somethin' i just wasn't any good at." a few tears fall down her cheeks, and she looks up at the girls across the table.

but look at you, now, big mama. isha signs with a happy smile.

jinx bursts into laughter at the use of the nickname, and sevika bursts into tears.

you giggle and coo, pulling sevika into your arms to let her cry in your shoulder. "'s okay, big mama." you tease.

"s-shut up!" sevika cries. isha giggles, and sevika lifts her face to smile at the girl, tears streaming down her cheeks. "look at me now, kid. exactly."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone

[birdsaretoddlers]

lkjsdnkjbngekrj that's exactly what static shock is tbh

Hey Mr Prince!

As a writer you can make all your wishes come true, but is there any HH fic you'd love to read but wouldn't want/be able to write yourself?

Hello! :D It's been a minute!

Personally, my writing style and preferences are more suited to short or mid-length fics that focus on simpler plots but have high emotional stakes. However, I LOVE burying myself into 60k+ word plot-heavy fics, and find them so so satisfying. Serious admiration toward those that write them!

I'd love to read a slowburn Alastor-centric found family fic feat. the hotel crew, Rosie, Lucifer, et al. and just digging into the idea of Alastor slowly getting dragged into having Feelings. Alternatively, basically Static Shock by @birdsaretoddlers which is thankfully already being written, hahaha.

[gentlebeard]

If I could hold you for a minute, Darling, I’d go through it again

For @edsbacktattoo & @stedesearring 💕 Show: Our Flag Means Death - Season 1 & 2 Music: Francesca by Hozier YouTube

[gemgdynamight0]

In this scene Katsuki is looking at the camera and saying "see you later", so it means we're gonna have a Katsuki centered spin off and-

[oh-no-its-bird]

Got tired of fighting my way through chapter 1 of the Shang Qinghua reincarnated into Naruto au, so I skipped ahead and am now gleefully breakdancing as I write ch 2 angst

SQH my beloved I'm about to put you into the meat grinder

[iphigeniacomplex]

[It is abominable, unquenchable by touch] by Diane Seuss

It is abominable, unquenchable by touch, closer to the sublime than sentimental, more animal than hominid, I've seen it in the eyes of birds weaving on a stem of ragweed, voracious, singular, there is no one like me, Dickinson in her narrow bed, her cold clenched hands, her penmanship unreadable, even following a recipe for black cake, her black cake came out strange, lusher than the template, and every freak I ever met had that same look in their eyes, armless, threading a needle with their lips and teeth, legless, rounding a corner on their cerulean cart, monarchic, imperious, wild, sad, and like every virgin queen, the need for love revolting and grand.

[aria-greenhoodie]

You asked and ye shall receive. Aria,why do you use birds to symbolize Abigale's inner turmoil?. Besides the obvious surname thing. Also you apparently have more thoughts on the Muse art? 👀,explain?.

So obviously yeah, “Blackwing” is such a bird surname. BUT THATS ONLY THE SURFACE!

Birds are so often used as symbols of freedom, creatures untethered by laws of the land due to their ability to fly. In the same way, I imagine Abigale as being similar; free, not having to abide by the laws of her land as much as others did. In order to explain I think I have to dive into my version of Abigale’s backstory a bit…

(Warning: I’m going off what I know about 1800-1900s American Society. I’m no historian, but I’ve tried to keep things as believable as possible. I will say I’m pretty confident in that believability thanks to my feminist history class I been taking this semester.)

Born in the early 1880s, the Blackwing family was wealthy, yet fairly unknown. Calling it a “family” before Abigale’s birth would be a stretch in many’s opinion, being made up of just Mr. Atticus Blackwing and Mrs. Chastity Blackwing. Chastity tragically passed in childbirth, leaving Atticus to raise Abigale all on his own. He became fiercely protective and supportive of the young Abigale, a tiny spitting image of his late wife.

Abigale was always an insatiably curious child. At first, Atticus tried to teach her how to be a lady, to be domestic, to cook and clean and dote on her future husband, but quickly realized he was woefully unequipped for teaching a subject he knew nothing about. What’s more: Abigale HATED her womanly lessons. Instead, Atticus decided to let her learn something she actually was interested in; inventing.

Abigale loved to tinker, to create. The mechanical was a fascination of hers from the moment she saw it. Atticus as an architect had some mechanical knowledge, but not to the level Abigale’s insatiable desire to learn needed. But what engineering school would allow a woman in? At this point in the late 1800s, women were nearly always snubbed in inventing spaces, most universities not even offering engineering degrees for female students.

And so, Abigale’s “twin brother” Abraham Blackwing was created. A pseudonym for Abigale, under which she would don Atticus’s old clothes from his boyhood and attend a prestigious engineering school. Her father even falsified documents like Abraham’s birth certificate to make him appear like a legitimate person. It was risky, as crossdressing was a punishable offense by law back then, but Abigale was willing to take that risk if it meant she could learn.

Between her rich father supporting her every decision and passion, and her alter-ego, Abraham, to fall back on, Abigale had a lot of freedom growing up. When her father died of an illness just before she graduated, he left “Abraham” everything, which of course meant that Abigale could “live with her brother” and hold a bank account under his name. She was truly given every opportunity for freedom, more than any woman of her time.

And then, Bill Cipher enters her life.

She’s plagued by the triangular demon ip every night in her dreams, but she refuses to succumb to the shape’s demands. As tempting as building a machine like an inter-dimensional portal was, she knew better than to trust a man who wouldn’t explain his motives. When Abigale asked why Bill wanted this portal built, he couldn’t give her a straight answer, and that was enough proof to know he was no good.

After weeks of restless nights and aggravation, Abigale finds a peculiar ad in the paper, written by a certain Thurburt Mudget Waxstaff III…

On some level, she has to thank Bill for entering her life as much as she has to curse him for it. If he had never decided to torment her specifically, she never would have met the rest of the Anti-Cipher Society. Abigale THRIVED in the society, delighted in inventing new ways to ward off Cipher, collaborating with her dear Jessamine to create specialized weaponry, learning self defense from Horace, gossiping with O’Pimm, spending night after night explaining the mechanics of how her inventions worked to Thurburt so he could whip up a stellar sales pitch… she had never felt more alive! She was flying high, much like a bird on the wind.

And then the conference happened.

Thurburt was institutionalized, right then and there. Abigale watched the asylum workers from backstage with mounting horror. Worst case scenario for Thurburt, he’d be locked in a cell or sent out west at some work camp, but for Abigale? If the asylum workers got ahold of her, she knew they’d think her hysterical. Treatments for “insane” men were often much kinder than treatments for women in those times. Deeming Thurburt insane would send him to a locked cell, but he would at least be allowed to remain himself. Abigale had heard of women like her, eccentric unmarried women, “frivolous women” as they were often called, being scooped up by doctors and spat back onto the street with their entire personalities wiped. A hammer and a well placed nail up the inside of one’s nose could do heinous things. Abigale would sooner die then let them take what made her HER away.

So she ran. She tried to take Jessamine with her, but she refused to leave Thurburt. For six days Abigale hid in the society’s underground bunker, terrified of venturing outside, not knowing what happened to her companions besides Thurburt. She only ventured out on the seventh day because she had run out of food.

She couldn’t go back to her house, when she tried to scope it out, she saw the asylum workers already knocking at her door. She couldn’t stay in the bunker, it was only a matter of time before it was found. She was desperate for a way out, to keep herself free.

And here comes Mr. Northwest.

See, the thing about birds is that while they make excellent symbols of freedom, they also make excellent symbols of being trapped. Birds can be put into cages, forced to sing or speak for meager treats, and lets not forget that at that time most birdcages were anything but spacious and comfortable. Most captive birds of the time were expected to die quickly, only purchased in order to sing prettily for a short while before their tiny little hearts stopped beating. Birds are as much a symbol of freedom as they are of captivity, of being trapped, of the LOSS of freedom.

Abigale never wanted to be a wife, but what choice did she have? Mr. Northwest offered her a way out if she married him. Her choice was thus: escape the state with Mr. Northwest as her husband, or stay in town and eventually be found and promptly lobotomized, erased of any trace of her real personality.

She chose the former.

Better to live in a gilded cage, twittering for scraps, then to be gutted and stuffed on som taxidermist’s wall…

Right?

As for the muse stuff most of my trout process I already told you in the notes of the original piece lol

[mad-girlslove-song]

"I have known that I have wanted to be an incredible mother for as long as I have feared being a regrettable daughter."

Blythe Baird

[birdsaretoddlers]

Hello again! I'm the anon in grad school who read Static Shock to get through finals week. Just wanted to update that I DID end up with all A's and I credit the momentary stress relief provided by your writing with keeping me awake and sane. Gonna do another reread as a reward :) hope you're doing well!

aaaa this actually gives me a good excuse to say something so!

hello, static shock nation.

the tiny bird who pilots this account burned out like a MOTHERFUCKER so im currently taking a break lmaooo. i'm still around but i've stepped back majorly from a lot of social media (though i'm lurking)! fic isn't abandoned by any means, im just Recuperating. because i wrote about 125k in Six Months.

and when you do that, you die a little inside haha. i'll be back at some point!

grad school anon i love you i wish the best for you and i've posted a LOT more fic since then so go check it all out!!!

[brigitoshaughnessy]

I don’t really care that my neighbor has 3 roosters inside city limits when they aren’t supposed to have any, but actually I do. I do fucking care because it’s 12:30 AM, and that mother fucking cock thinks it’s dawn. Also, I have to sleep with the window open, but that’s an entirely different discussion.

[fistfuloflightning]

He had his father’s directions to Gusu, but the journey was longer than he thought. He had gotten lost again and again, guided back by the weasel spirits Wen Qing and Wen Ning, had been given spiritual gifts from the tree spirit Xiao Xingchen, had been given food by the eager wolf-dog Jin Ling.

But when he arrived in the mountains, Lan Sizhui realized all that meant nothing, as he did not know how to reach the city in the clouds. He did not have Lan Wangji’s ability to summon clouds nor would Bichen respond to him the way it had to his mother. Helpless, he found himself staring longingly into the sky.

A great gust of wings and Wei Wuxian landed beside him in a whirlwind of black and white and scarlet. “Uncle! You followed me,” Lan Sizhui said in surprise.

The crane bent his long neck to look into the boy’s eyes. “Did you think I would not? I hatched alongside your father’s river, have guarded it and him, and cherish him like a brother. Do not think I would not protect his son when he is unable to.”

Lan Sizhui felt like a little boy again, taking his first steps with his hand fisted in his uncle’s feathers, wobbly and uncertain, and felt that all over again. Relying on Wei Wuxian’s strength to keep himself moving forward.

Lan Sizhui returned his face to the billowing, gold-touched clouds high above. Somewhere hidden in them was the great city his mother had left to see the world below, and had returned to a captive. “I have been given aid to get here, and gifts, but all of it would be for nothing if I cannot sprout wings.”

Wei Wuxian clacked his beak in thought.

“I will take you,” he decided. “It was I who first urged your mother to leave the Cloud Recesses to visit the world below, despite her being forbidden from doing so. Never before have I cherished the consequences of my actions so dearly.” The crane touched his scarlet forehead against Lan Sizhui’s.

The boy gripped Bichen tightly, steeling himself. His mother was waiting. “Very well. I do not know what waits for me above, but at least I have a fierce protector in you, Uncle.”

“Always.”

Gripping his shoulders securely, Wei Wuxian carried him into the sky. And with every great wingbeat, Lan Sizhui could feel himself grow closer to his mother, her presence like a bright beacon.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

the sweetest poison

continuation of this

carrion trio angst i love them so much i have to put them through the wringer for real

(cw: violence, attempted murder, suicidal thoughts)

"no, no, no, please. sans, don't-"

"don't worry. i'll put you out of your misery. i'll save you too, like i'll save everyone."

crow is, as expected, wriggly when murder tries to pin him down on the ground. his clawed hands dig into murder's arms, tearing the clothes and drawing blood. but murder is used to this - the pain that is. it's easy to ignore the stinging pain and numb the vortex in his screaming soul. just one stab through the soul and crow will be free from the agony of this cursed world.

it was a mistake letting someone close to him again, after all this time. and now crow is hurt, and it's all his fault.

he can fix this. he can still salvage this.

"sans, sans, i don't want to die! no, please!" crow cries, a pitiful sound so different from his usual cheer it makes murder's own soul hurt just hearing it.

"it's okay, it's okay," murder attempts his best soothing voice. "it'll be over soon, i promise."

LIAR.

murder ignores papyrus' scoff as he struggles to overpower crow's surprisingly strong grip on his arms. honestly, he doesn't understand why crow is so adamant on this. dying is easy, living is hard - isn't that always the case?

after all, death will gladly welcome both of them in his realms. murder can't dream of a more peaceful ending than that.

(is it?)

murder is so focused on his soon-to-be-victim that he doesn't see a spear directed towards him. the attack hits him and flings him away from crow. as he tries to get up, multiple spears sprouts from the ground and trap him in a makeshift cage.

"undyne...?" he mutters. no, that couldn't be possible. there's no reason why undyne would be in snowdin at this time for no reason. murder can only turn his head to see a pair of blue wings covering his sight of his beloved messenger. as the interloper turns around, murder freezes. it is undyne, but not the one he's familiar with. this one sports a jacket and a pair of goggles just like crow, and she looks furious.

(ah, so this is what the true hero of the underground looks like.)

undyne takes a step towards murder, in her arms holding crow, who looks so much smaller (so much more fragile) without the weight of most of his wings. murder only has eyes on the frazzled little crow, feeling something heavy deep in his nonexistent stomach.

"dyne, no..." crow whispers, weakly tugging on undyne's jacket. the ginger looks at crow, who continues. "don't hurt him... let's just leave... please..."

for some reasons, that plea doesn't make murder feel any better, only worse.

(he doesn't deserve it - the compassion, the mercy. he needs the pain of retribution inflicted upon him.)

as the two winged monsters disappears, murder crumbles on the ground. he doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry at what just transpired.

I SHOULD'VE KNOWN YOU'D FAIL. YOU'RE NOT HIS SAVIOR.

(he could never l o v e again.)

numbly, he picks up one of the scattered black feathers and wonders if he'll ever see that friendly smile again.

[glitter-stained]

*reading Dixon's Birds of Prey* Well DC stands for disrespect canon apparently, who tf left that guy in charge of anything

[wexhappyxfew]

‘judy was right — and she usually was’

about time someone said it!!!!! kennedy is so real for this

RIGHT?!?!?? kennedy is by far one of the most ultimate (in my opinion) Girl’s Girl™️. she will defend you with her life, always has her girls’ backs, will hype them up and support them and do anything to give them the credit and love they deserve. kennedy is really just That Girl™️.

PLUS — with judy being the youngest of the group, she’s already overlooked by others more often than she should be and when in doubt - kennedy’s always giving her the credibility she deserves. because usually - judy will ALWAYS be right about things; mostly because of her positivity and general incline to look at things with hope and glass-half-full energy. and kennedy loves that about people because she doesn’t feel she’s entirely like that - so being around people who look at the world like that (mainly margie and judy) she always respects the hell out of people like that (namely the entire Silver Bullets crew lmfao, she’d defend the crew for her LIFE!). kennedy was in fact the realest for a statement like that :’)

JUDY RYBINSKI SUPREMACY!!!!!! <33333