#so many types of birds!

[nostimroads]

Stimboard for either the three-wattled bellbird, white bellbird, bare-throated bellbird or the bearded bellbird?

It's up! Let me know if you'd like anything switched around :D

[bunnieswithknives]

hey in ur peri animatic: (https://youtu.be/OCqlRuDaXYU?si=K52WDu_vw9rg7chz) that I have been permanently obsessed over since today and have watched about 20 times by now so much that I have drawn & posted stuff based on it what was that partial bug form peri had?

I haven’t watched either of the show btw so if it’s explained in the show please tell me plsssss

OK, SO the bug thing is not technically canon to the series. It's based on my own headcanons for fairy biology, but i do have justifications for it!! Fairies have very strong shape-shifting abilities, so it would make sense that the form they show to humans isn't necessarily their true form(not to mention extreme that mimicry is very common in insects). And you want to know the visible traits almost every fairy has in common? Being very small with Insect-like wings.

The fact that their humanoid form isn't their true form in actually confirmed in the show! Cosmo and Wanda are revealed to look like biblically accurate pseudo-angels in the museum episode. (I say pseudo angels because the Flaming Sword of Eden is only debatably sentient and I don't think is considered an angel. Ophanim are also debatably not angels because they don't have wings (sorry for the angel tangent I like angels))

So wouldn't their true forms be angelic then? Well, yes. But I like bugs so. Also I have more headcanons to justify myself. I like to think that they have both a true-true form (incomprehensible to the human brain, probably exists mostly in a dimension invisible to us, that looks how we imagine biblically accurate angels), and a fairy form (which is visible to humans but is naturally very insect like and tends to scare people). So, in order to interact with humans, they have to learn to shapeshift into a humanoid form but will occasionally slip if they get too relaxed/aren't careful, hence the mandibles coming out when he yawns!

The reason they struggle so much more with human forms than the animals or objects they typically turn into is that, well, they aren't trying to convince those animals or objects. The more human they try to look, the harder it is to keep up convincingly. If you turn into a really uncanny squirrel, only other squirrels will notice. If you turn into a really uncanny human, they form a lynch mob and burn you at the stake.

[almoststedytimetravel]

I think more people (me) should stop using Ravens and other corvids to act as omen's of death when doing a symbolism and start using Pīwakawaka as omens of the death instead.

You may not like it, but this is what peak death omen looks like.

[heartorbit]

a mob of emus for an artstyle game on twt! ^_^

[hrokkall]

DIVINE LIGHT SEVERED

[chimeride]

Greek Sphinx, the 236th Known One.

[nashvillethotchicken]

IWTV S2E6 "Like the light god made before he made the world" livethoughts. Spoilers and thoughts as always below the cut

[thegreatyin]

y'know, it probably feels weird for the scoundrel to admit, but they feel surprisingly comforted to be back on their ship for a change. they finally have control of the situation, they're finally around people they (vaguely) trust, they- wait a minute hold on what was that line

oh

oh no

oh no the horrors just keep getting worse and worse for them

[ruthlesslistener]

Sometimes I forget that other people aren't as enthusiastic about bugs as I am, and do not in fact want to see a video of the veritable sea of maggots devouring watermelon rinds in the compost bin

[oh-no-its-bird]

I have an idea for a sort of silly light novel writing project I'll probably never actually write but is fun to just think about

But like. Cultivator set up, wuxia world w a slight blending of different cultivation genres, a guy wakes up in a forest with amnesia. (Wow classic I know)

So the first few chapters he's hearing about all these big famous people who have gone missing over the years, right? And he (along with probably the reader) is like, "Heh. That could be me,,," (smugly)

But the names keep piling on, and he comes to a realization: important and unimportant cultivators alike go missing and lose their memories or whatever else at an alarming rate. He is not special. (Coughs up blood)

He probably runs into other amnesiacs more than once, and I'd have a running theme of like, he keeps bumping into main character coded characters just left and right. There's so much happening in this world, so many stories being told, he's really not special. But also he is bc hes our main character

But just like silly mostly self contained stories told from this guy just wandering around this absoloute cluster fuck of a world, often running head first into really interesting stories that are clearly like in the middle of a 5 arc novel their own

It'd probably gain a real central narrative along the way like all things inevitably do (the mystery of how he lost his memories and the fall out of what happens when he learns the truth) but for now I have fun just thinking ab his dumb adventures

As for the character himself, hes is like, obnoxiously laid back. SUPER chill, takes everything with a sigh and a smile, very lazy, takes a lot of shortcuts and goes "Ah but that's fine, right?" As everything explodes around him. If he's alive, then all is well in the world 👍

He'd cause so many problems just because and also probably have absolutely shit luck that gets him into even more problems (my favorite genre of character)

I also have like. A slowly but surley growing list of characters he'd run into like uhh [checks notes] evil lesbian mirror demon and the very angry woman she trapped in a mirror and stole the face and life of (the demon hate sex goes crazy).

And also ofc, "person trapped in a cycle of reincarnation with a curse that no matter how hard they try to be good, they will inevitably cause some great destruction or evil or plague of some kind." And just them very very desperately trying to be good even though they know it's futile

Yay!! Fun stuff

[autisticrosewilson]

First of all, you have given me so much to work with, thank you so much. Second of all, I’m really glad you could see where I was going with Grant’s real test not actually being about killing Slade. Third of all, I absolutely love what you’ve suggested with the powers and I am currently designing met gala esque outfits for the trio and Tara’s specifically is really fun to play around with. I’ve been thinking to show they’re becoming more divine I’ll change their hair and eye colours but not their faces for the most part. I was drawing robin Jason with Natalia and decided he should have brown eyes and a crooked nose from breaking it as a kid but once he returns his eyes get weird (eg go blue and occasionally other colours), a patch of his hair went white and he lost all of his scars. Also, I think the closer they get to divinity I’m gonna draw cracks on their body that glow with their specific colours just to hammer home how they’re shedding their mortal forms.

With Tara being able to see the strings of fate, I though it’d be fun to give her a harp and then with Jason having the see no evil trait I thought it’d be fun to give him weighing scales since lady justice wears a blindfold. Idk what to give Grant though. I mean probably a weapon of some sort or maybe a Shepard’s crook that he can turn into a scythe to play into the sheep, wolf, Hunter thing.

With Jason and Tara’s splintering, I love the idea of them making fun of Grant for being the baby god. He hasn’t even had a cult yet, gosh he’s so young. Also them being besties just holds a special place in my heart.

And I just came up with this, of course they have parallels to the trinity but in universe rumours of their existence have been around much longer than Bruce, Clark and Diana. They’re the big three of the justice league but these guys are justice gods. So they start calling themselves the justice trinity but then people get confused about which trinity is which because the justice leagues’ trinity sounds awfully close to the justice gods’ trinity. The new all caste is certainly more distinctive branding but the point isn’t to be distinctive, it’s to be petty.

I'm so glad my unmedicated rambling helped!!! And I'm so excited for the outfits!!! I love when characters start becoming less and less human, when they're stuck in that uncanny valley spot of not quite human but not entirely Other, when they lose control and the cracks start to show...um I should probably give a warning for slight body horror elements. Not in the gore sense, in the "this body is not made of flesh and there is something divine clawing it's way out". Uh also there are teeth. Just. Teeth. I dipped into a little bit of cosmic horror at the end there because I wanted to cover my bases with mixed mythologies

Jason, with his defined splinters, is usually depicted with three faces in ancient texts. The Child, gaunt and dark colored, is said to appear before the downtrodden and impoverished. The few stories remaining tell of kindly people who give him an offering, and in exchange he reveals his true form, with his crown of golden ivy and beautiful strong wings to gift them bounties of food and water and riches. Other stories tell of not so kind encounters, where The Child witnesses an injustice - typically against women or children - and again reveals his true form, one with clawed hands and a mouth dripping with blood. Scholars argue what the wings looked like, but whichever All-Caste member annotated it before has compared their likeness to either a Robin or a Shrike.

There's also The Ghost, He appears young at first glance, but his hair is wirey and gray, his eyes milky and unseeing, in bloodied armor he greets the souls of the damned as they're delivered to him, and with scarred hands he wipes the tears of children taken too soon. Accounts of this face are few and far between, but all of them are entrenched in sorrow.

Finally there is The Soldier, scarred and still smoking from the ruins of battle he emerges, giving voice to the weak and resources to the needy. He champions revolutionaries and philosophers first, a strategist who delights in the liberation of the people from corrupt systems. Accounts of him usually come from times of famine and war, and he was particularly popular with poor villages, who would mark the graves of their dead with the symbol of his sword as offerings. For some reason or other, he got particularly popular with the youth, girls and boys both seemed to pray for him and leave him offerings.

The way these manifest on Jason is subtle at first. I could go the body horror route, but I won't. Yet. Instead I think his splinters show up as reflections, shadows, imprints. The faint echo of bell-like laughter when Jason does a move he learned as Robin, the image of a younger him with longer hair and unblinking eyes staring at him in the mirror. It gets worse when he gets the blades, the white streaks his hair, the swirling mark covers more of his skin every time he uses them, he trails the scent of smoke and blood behind him like a signature. His scars...they should disappear. They have for everyone else who used the pit, but instead his skin starts cracking. Any place he's ever been scarred glowing cracks break up his skin. He can't feel them, but he's always aware of them, the meaning behind them, the divinity literally leaking through his body. His eyes aren't brown anymore. They aren't even green. He looks in the mirror and they are copper, molten and burning. He tries his best to keep his mask on.

What do you think of when you imagine the word divinity? Probably something like Tara. Something with skin carved from stone, with moss and fungus crawling up her legs and snow laden shoulders. They say her hair is made of swirling clouds and the sun and moon are her eyes.

Some say she's a nymph although no one knows what kind. You're just as likely to see her name among the naiads as the dryads. Whether flowers bloom where she dances or waves crash when she sings, she's known to be more vicious towards suitors than her sisters.

Others have said she's a faerie, who takes the faces of lost daughters and lovers, slipping into their places seamlessly, forcing unruly men to pay their dues. Others say she's a shifter of a different sort, with a shawl of feathers and a crown of twine and gems. Stories range from men trying to steal her coat (and paying dearly) to lost children returned safely home on the back of a swan.

Tara doesn't think about it at first, the way gravity tends to cede to her, she doesn't notice how sunflowers turn their faces towards her instead of the sun. She doesn't notice the way her face...shifts. it's imperceptible really, and it's not like she looks in the mirror all that often. But everyone around her notices it, on some level, the way her expressions are off. A little too exaggerated. The way her limbs bend just a little too oddly. The way she never looks quite the same as she did the day before, the way she picks up features from the people around her the way she picks up rocks from ground to add to her collection. Clay molded subtly into the image of those she loves, a museum of everyone she's ever met. She does notice when her hair starts going white at the ends, the strange way her hair starts to curl unnaturally, almost floating. She's not so upset about her eyes, the deep blue of her father that has glared down at her day after day, she has changed her hair, her face, her language but she could not change her eyes. It seems she didn't have to, when she wakes up with one a little too silver to be gray and one a little too gold to be brown. And then her skin starts splitting, a cavern made from a broken rib and ravines made by the slashing of knives. She doesn't even bleed anymore, they never scab over. They crystallize, amber like ambrosia, like ichor. Her body a geode waiting to be cracked open to let the thing within finally break free.

They know the least about Grant, whatever he used to be. Half written scrolls, torn or burnt or simply stopped abruptly, illegible journal entries with symbols never recorded in any known language, half finished sketches where the details are never quite clear. A few things are usually consistent though, signs that he's been there, usually from hunters down on their luck or the particularly old and sickly. First, the howling. Like a wolf or a storm, although later accounts would add that it occasionally sounds like a mechanical whirring. Then the rabbits, dead and gutted, but not a trace of blood. Piles of them left in heaps on doorsteps or windowsills. Some have reported knocking at strange hours or finding teeth in their homes, a mix of human and animal. There is one photo on record, the most recent thing in the archive most likely, of claw marks on the side of a barn, too big and oddly serrated, certainly not from anything native to the area. Elderly that report these phenomena typically pass from heart problems within the week, according to some of the old medical files.

Grant came back wrong. Physically, at least. He knows that he's still himself for the most part, dying didn't make him a selfish asshole he did that all on his own, but...but something is wrong with him. It's the way lightbulbs flicker when he's mad and how cameras, no matter the quality, never quite get a clear shot of him. The way Joey can't ever grasp his features, not fully, the details slipping from his mind like water. The way eyes on his face slide right past, unable to look directly at him. It's in the gray spreading from his roots and his eyes too wide and dark to belong to something human. It's the way death clings to him like a second skin, sickly and pallid turning the tips of his fingers gray. His teeth are starting to feel too sharp for his mouth, and he hears things no one else does, whispers of voices that Are Not and Can't Be. The worst part is the orange, liquid candlelight under his skin, lighting up all of his veins and scars, webbing together like the world's worst game of connect the dots. No, there is no mistaking him for something human, so there is no reason to try. If this is his fate then he will take it, because he is not a sheep and he will not be a wolf, he is a hunter, and he is hungry.

[lilyrizzy]

cw: a/b/o dynamics, mention of scars from past sa, set in this universe

It’s winter and the windows are closed. The sickly smell of sunshine hitting warm, damp earth that’s ready to give way to something new and green, it’s all Max. Outside, the ground is stone and unforgiving to life.

“Daniel,” Max whimpers, hips rolling languidly in his lap. Everywhere they touch is sweat sodden, Max’s back sticking to Daniel’s chest. He presses a kiss to a patch of acne on his shoulder; sweet imperfection. “Daniel-- please.”

Touching his stomach with one hand, Daniel shifts them so he slides that little bit deeper inside. His fingertips graze the more sinister scars, the angry, sickening red of most having faded long ago to a muted pink, while with others it has only been weeks. Other hand resting over Max’s chest, Daniel lets the rabbit quick beat of his heart underneath his palm soothe him. This way, he tells himself, he’ll know if he does anything wrong.

He used to be confident helping girlfriends, an occasional friend through heats. Kiss, thrust, knot, come. Simplicity. With Max, there’s no room for error and yet so many tight corners it feels impossible not to go wide anyway.

“Baby,” he says, then leans in to kiss the tender spot behind Max’s ear, where he’s so sure nobody else has before. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon.”

Max whines, shaking his head as much as he can without forcing Daniel’s mouth away. Still Daniel moves, lips trailing until they’re resting on his neck, over where Max’s scent is thickest. It settles heavily over his tongue, like syrup with all of the gluey sweetness. The air around them is too humid for how cold it must be in every other room of the house, the heating switched off the moment Max’s fever began.

Daniel lets his teeth scrape against this most tender part, testing. Max’s hips stutter, Daniel’s lap gets wetter. He moves the hand on Max’s stomach down, until he’s touching where Max is hard, a different kind of sticky.

It’s freedom to do this, to hold Max in his arms and make him feel good. To show him that not every ache has to hurt. That when love is done right, it is the same thing as safety.

“I love you,” he says to remind Max, to sate the lion prowling in his chest that wants to pick its teeth with Jos’s bones, “all mine, my Maxy.”

Max’s head falls back onto Daniel’s shoulder at the mention of his name, and he’s smiling shyly. The flushed pink of his face the same colour as the first tulips Daniel gave to him, though this wasn’t what he’d been thinking about at the time. The sunlight filtering through the blinds bathes him in gold and Daniel has to have him forever.

Neck straining, Max’s lips reach to kiss Daniel's scent gland in return. To press his face into the place he knows it’s okay to hide. Daniel’s hips keep moving, rolling gently as he starts to swell.

Pain blossoms as Max’s teeth graze the thin skin of Daniel’s neck when he comes, hard enough to make Daniel’s hips jerk. Too rough in a way he promised he’d never be, but Max only whimpers, only pulls his face back a few moments later, and there's a tiny speck of blood covering the freckle on his mouth.

“Please,” he says again, and Daniel bites.

[thexlittlestxeeveexcookie]

Bitterns are such weird birds: they're fantastic

*hello*

Scuse me *step step step*

HOW DARE

These weirdos made my day: if you're feeling down, go look at some bitterns today :3

[ask-spamton-gpory-spamgon]

HELP

"I'VE LAID A [hyperlink blocked] TON OF [pipis] AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TODO WITH THEM THEIRS ABOUT 6 OF THEM

I HATE CONSTANTLY LAYING [pipis] NO ONE EVER BUYS THEM! MOST OF THE TIME"

"oh! INCASE YOUR NEW TO THE WAYS OF ME [pipis] ARE EGGS PLEASE BUY THEM FROM [me] I'M SO TEMPTED TO PUT THEM IN A [tornado] JUST TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS AND I DON'T LIKE THINKING LIKE THIS"

[snailcubezz]

get Creature'd idiot !!!!

[crowsyart]

Some of these have way more meaning than others some are just vibe based I’m a bird guy I gotta birdify the soul eaters

Maka - Carolina Wren

Soul - Osprey

Black☆Star - Common Kingfisher

Tsubaki - Black Heron

Kid - Black Vulture

Liz - Red Tailed Hawk

Patty - Rough Legged Buzzard

Crona -Kauai o’o’

Ragnarok - Loggerhead Shrike

Medusa - Crested Serpent Eagle

Marie - Buff Orpington Chicken

Spirit - Red Crested Cardinal

Stein - Harpy Eagle

Death - Andean Condor

Justin - Turtle Dove

Giriko - Hoatzin

Eruka - Potoo

Mifune - Snowy Owl

Sid - Ostrich

Hero - Grey Catbird

Asura -Magnificent Frigatebird

Naigus - Groove Billed Aini

Asuza - Western Jackdaw