#birdtrio | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladyddanger · 2 years

Note

For the c!birdboys request

What about them teaching avian things to Quackity? That man is so repressed i can feel it and i think it would be funny to see Grian and Philza fight over who is teaching him correctly

For you my beloved. A03 link if you wanna read it on there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42278373

I Hope You Stay

They were all eating simple stew and veggies dinner when Phil offered to let Quackity preen his wings. He brought it up casually enough that Grian knew he had been planning this. Quackity for his part froze on the suggestion. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to do that, I'll hurt you.” he said with a forced lightheartedness. Phil snorted. “I doubt that.” He said. Quackity glared. “I can’t.” He snapped and Phil frowned . “If you're not comfortable, we don’t have to.” He said gently. Quackity swallowed relaxing slightly when Phil didn’t push it. “No, I mean I never learned how to preen and shit. I grew up in jail and it wasn’t really the most hybrid friendly place. You know, being in jail and all.” He laughed nervously. Grian shrugged, finishing the last of his stew. “I can help.” He offered. “We both can.” Phil added “If you're ok with that?” Quackity stood grabbing the on empty bowls and bringing them to the sink to wash. Back still to Phil and Grian he spoke. “I’m ok with it.” He said softly. Phil smiled. “Wonderful. I’ll get cocoa and cookies. We can make a night of it.” Quackity nodded. He still looked pale as he dried off the dishes, his wings twitching nervously. Grian stood pushing back his chair with a loud noise. “Quackity and I can get firewood if you want Phil.” He offered. Quackity shot him a grateful look relaxing at the idea of getting fresh air. Phil nodded. “Go for it. I’ll start with the cookies.” Grian and Quackity headed out bundling themselves into thick wool coats and pulling up the hoods.

Even though it was past dinner time the arctic sun was still out flashing off the white snow. Grian started to shiver slightly the moment he stepped outside, his parrot hybrid genes protesting the snow. Quackity as a duck hybrid was built for the winter and happily leaned into the wind. When he noticed Grain shivering he silently stepped in front of Grian, wings spread to block the other from the wind. Grain sighed in relief. “Thanks Q.” Quackity shrugged it off looking a bit embarrassed. As they walked through the snow, Grian hid his joy that Quackity trusted him enough to let his wings close to Grain. Even though Phil had found him in a snowbank all those months ago, Grain and Phil had only seen his wings a few weeks ago when broken bones and deep cuts were bad enough that it made him sick and feverish and Phil was forced to unbind his wings while Quackity screamed and fought him, dragging his nails over Phil’s skin and leaving deep weeping cuts behind. Even after Quackity had been forced to keep his wings out he still refused to let them touch his wings. Instead he cleaned them himself every night brushing out his feathers and carefully pulling out the bad ones. Grian should have realized he had no idea how to properly preen himself when Quackity pulled a feather so hard he drew blood. All this time Quackity had simply been copying what he had seen Phil doing.

“Quackity?” The duck hybrid, a few steps ahead of him, had reached the wood pile and was bundling spruce logs into his arms, wings still open to shield Grian. “Yeah?” Grian stepped around him to grab logs of his own, careful to stay out of his blind spot. “You know if you asked I’m sure Phil would be happy to preen your wings.” Quackity huffed. “I don’t need help.” He snapped. Grain smirked. “Yes you do. You suck it.” Quackity’s mouth fell open. “Go fuck yourself.” He snapped. Grian raised his eyebrows. “Right here? I mean you’re a handsome man Quackity-” Snow hit him in the face. Quackity snickered as Grian coughed, shaking snow out of hair. “Yeah that's right bitch. See if I shield you from the wind now.” Grain lunged after him only stopping to grab snow from the ground, almost dropping his wood as did so. Quackity yelped and and took off towards the house. The sun was setting down as they raced up the porch and into the house. “Take off your boots!” Phil yelled from the kitchen where he stood over the stove. By the time Quackity and Grain kicked off their boots and piled the wood in the fireplace, Phil had made a plate of cookies and three cups of coco. They had made the batch of cookies a little while ago. Grian and Quackity had spent the whole time fighting over how much sugar to use and how long to mix the ingredients while Phil actually baked. By the time Grian and Quackity had reached an agreement, signed with a peace treaty, Phil had put the cookies in the oven. Phil making the cookies was probably the only reason they were good enough to eat, considering Quackity was banned from the kitchen after his “mystery pot pies'' had caused widespread food poisoning and Grian was “suspended” from the kitchen after lacing the food with magic hair dye. In his defense Quackity with blue hair had been very very funny. Quackity had disagreed. The door slammed knocking Grain out of thoughts as Phil walked back into the living room setting the tray down. “Ready?” He asked. Quackity swallowed “I want help with preening my wings.” He blurted. If Phil was surprised he hid it well. “Alright. I’d be happy to help.”

Quackity nodded glancing at Grian. Grian gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Quackity smiled back, slightly shakily and grabbed a green mug which didn’t hide his shaking hands. Phil sat down next to him, careful to stay in Quackity’s seeing side. “How do you want to do this?” Quackity shrugged. “However you want.” He mumbled, his voice was softer than Grian had ever heard it. Phil nodded. “What about I preen your wings, and then you can do Grian’s?” Quackity nodded and pushed himself to sit in front of Phil. His shoulders were tight with nerves. Phil softened his voice. “Try to lower your shoulders.” Quackity lowered his shoulders, his eyes were squeezed shut, his chest heaving up and down. Phil hummed. “Alright.” He ran his fingers through Quackity’s wings, slowly as if feeling them out. From the floor he grabbed a wooden Pencis from the flower. It was shaped like a small comb with iron teeth curved to mimic a break or claws to draw dirt and dust out. Phil lifted Quackity’s left wing and held it in his hand before carefully running it between the feathers. Dirt, blood and dust fell to the ground around them. Quackity’s body seemed to relax. He took a slow bite of the sugar cookie he was almost crushing to death. Phil paused. “Is this ok?” Quackity nodded. “Yes.” He said, his voice was rougher than normal but his hair hung over his face not allowing Grian to see his expression. Phil smiled. “I’m glad. You’re doing great.” As he kept working, every so often Phil stopped to clean the brush with warm water. Finally he lowered the left wing and picked up the right wing and started to do the right one.

Quackity slowly kept eating his cookie, dipping it on the hot coco. Grian sighed and leaned over resting his head on Phil’s shoulder. He couldn’t help it. Even just seeing another bird hybrid being preened activated his instincts making him want to be close to others. Phil chirped lightly to him. Chirps and body languages were the main way Bird Hybrids liked to talk with each other. That sound and the way Phil flicked his wings asked a gentle question if Grian was alright. Grian chirped up and opened his wings and then slowly closed them to show that he was fine. Phil smiled. “Alright Big Q. I've started preening ok?” Quackity nodded, sitting the third cookie he had gotten, down. His eyes shut as if bracing for a hit.

Phil sat down on the Pencis as it was easier and gentler to use your fingers. Quackity flinched hard as Phil slowly started to run his fingers over the feathers flicking them into place. Quackity sighed. His body relaxed, slumping forwards. His eyes shut sleepily. Phil made a concerned noise. “Quackity are you ok?” Quackity blinked. “It doesn't hurt.” He said a slight slur to his words. Phil went still. “Does it usually hurt?” Quackity nodded. “It hurt when my husband did. My feathers are difficult to preen so he would just have to pull them out.” Phil’s face darkened. “No feather’s are that difficult to preen. That never should have happened.” Quackity’s chin dipped. “Oh.” He said softly.” Phil quickly gentled his voice. “You have beautiful wings, Quackity.” Quackity blinked. “Thank you.” He mumbled and if his voice sounded thick Grian and Phil didn’t mention it. Phil kept working and as he did Quackity slowly relaxed more and more until he was slumped on Phil’s chest, eyes shut soft, nearly purring noise coming from his mouth. Phil kept working on his wings hiding a soft smile. “Do you want to try doing Grian’s wings?” He asked after a moment. Quackity nodded happily. Grian narrowed his eyes. “Don’t break anything.” Quackity smirked. “Fuck you.” He said with no anger. Grian braced himself as gentle hands brushed his wings. Every single avian had different ways to preen. Quackity’s style was awkward but gentle. He moved like he was holding himself back as much as possible, hands moving clumsily through Grian’s wings. Grian chirped. “Is this ok?” Quackity asked, nerves clear in his voice. Grian nodded. “Yeah you’re doing great.”

Quackity sat up straighter. “Good.” He said trying to be smug but he couldn’t hide the smile in his voice. Grian relaxed backwards. He wasn’t sure when they had finished but at one point Quackity had dragged blankets and pillows into a huge nest on the floor. Grian was half asleep by the time Quackity was done leaving him flopped on the ground. Next to him Quackity spread his wings now shiny with wing oil. He purred softly again. Phil glanced over. “Everything ok Quackity?” He asked. Quackity nodded. “Thank you.” He said. “For this I mean.” Phil smiled. “Yeah.” Quackity grabbed another one of Grian’s cookies. Grian pretended not to notice he was too lazy to yell at him. Instead he waited until Quackity wasn’t looking and grabbed two cookies back. Phil raised his eyebrows at Grian but did nothing. The fireplace crackled as Grian shut his eyes. "Flock." he thought and for the first time it felt true.

#c!quackity #c!grian #c!phil #c!philza #c!birdboys #c!birdtrio #lady writes #o my beloved #thanks for the ask my love

14 notes · View notes