Yeah Sure Everyone's Into Being Kinky And Bringing Toys Into The Bedroom But The Moment You Pull Out

Favorite bird genre has got to be 'that's literally just a dinosaur'

Groove-Billed Ani

Hoatzin

Pheasant Coucal

All about the he/him she/her bullshit....

Birds Dont Sing

sylus x reader | fluff, comfort, a little bit angsty if you squint

this was a request from a kind anon reader♡

summary: sylus silently watches you being vulnerable in front of mephisto

Your apartment was unusually still, wrapped in that soft kind of quiet that only happens on slow afternoons. The kind where time doesn't stop, but stretches, languid and warm.

You were lying back against the cushions of the couch, one arm tucked behind your head, eyes closed as your face was graced with a soft smile, while Mephisto was perched on top of your stomach. Your tired gaze trailed toward the slivers of sunlight as they slipped beneath the horizon beyond the windowpane, painting the city in deep pinks and dusky purples, the last light smudging the skyline like fading watercolors.

Mephisto blinked at you, head tilting just slightly as if studying you with more than just curiosity. Almost like he understood you.

''You're so much gentler than you look, you know that?'' you murmured to the crow, voice just above a whisper.

Mephisto let out a soft click in response, the kind Sylus had once said, was the equivalent of a purr. Your fingers reached out slowly, pausing just before touching him. You always gave him that choice. Sylus had told you Mephisto could be wary, even proud, like a living bird. But today, he stepped closer without hesitation, lowering his head slightly, so you could run a finger along the smooth arch of his neck.

''I'm glad you're here. Both of you. You…help me feel safe.''

Mephisto tilted his head at you, blinking once, and stayed perfectly still. Almost like he was listening. Really listening.

You sighed, settling deeper into the cushions, fingertips still idly brushing from his sleek metallic head, down to his neck and up again. ''You and Sylus…you make everything feel a little less heavy.''

Unseen by you, the door to the kitchen opened moments before. Sylus stood quietly just inside the frame, unnoticed, one hand resting lightly against the wood as he watched you.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd simply come back from the kitchen to tell you that dinner was ready. But then he'd seen you, resting softly, speaking so earnestly. And Mephisto, the one creature he trusted without question, perched like a sentinel on top of you, his wings tucked neatly against his sides, responding to your affection like he was more than metal and wire. Like he had a soul. And his footsteps had gone silent out if instinct. He didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stood and listened.

Sylus swallowed the unexpected ache rising in his throat.

Because this wasn't a side of you most people get to see. This quiet, gentle kind of sadness. The longing for reassurance you rarely gave voice to. The way you looked at Mephisto, his creation, with such raw trust.

Sylus had built the crow to be an extension of himself in the field. His eyes in the dark, his silent defense, an extension of efficiency.But he'd never imagined this. That Mephisto could become something softer. A quiet presence. A guardian of your peace. A comfort.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was low. Gentle.

''I think he likes you,'' he said quietly, breaking the silence just enough to let his voice slip in.

You blinked, startled, eyes flying open as your hand jerked back in surprise. ''Sylus! I- I didn't hear you come in.''

He stepped forward, crouching beside the couch and reaching out to lightly scratch Mephisto behind the head in the spot only he seemed to know. The bird chirped happily.

''He's picky,'' Sylus said, smirking just a little. ''He doesn't let just anyone touch him. You've earned his trust.''

You laughed under your breath, cheeks flushing. ''He's a good listener.''

Sylus tilted his head. ''So am I.''

There was a pause, quiet and meaningful.

Your voice softened again. ''Sometimes…it's easier to say the things I'm scared of out loud when I think no one's listening.''

He nodded, understanding in his gaze as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

''I was listening,'' he murmured. ''And I'm glad you feel safe. That's all I want for you, sweetheart.''

''I worry sometimes,'' you admitted, eyes drifting down to Mephisto again. ''That I lean on you too much. That I'm not strong enough. I try not to show it, but…today, I just needed a quiet moment. And he was here. Like he knew.''

Sylus reached out, hand brushing against yours where it rested on the couch. His touch was cool, steady. Grounding.

''You never have to hide that from me,'' he said quietly. ''Your strength doesn't come from pretending you're okay. It comes from choosing to stay open. Even when it's hard.''

Your throat tightened at his words. You nodded, swallowing thickly.

''I see you,'' he added voice low and reverent. ''Every part. And I love all of it.''

Mephisto chirped again, wings fluttering just slightly before settling. You and Sylus both looked down at him, and for a beat, it was as if the three of you existed in your own pocket of the world. Quiet, safe, whole.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against Sylus's, your hand softly squeezing his.

''Thank you,'' you whispered. ''For listening. For knowing.''

He kissed your temple, lingering.

''Always.''

It's so weird to me when people are like 'but that will cost the government money!' So what? They're the government, they're supposed to be spending money. What, you want them to take your tax dollars and then do nothing with it? Lock it all up in a big government vault and just look at it? Why are you so scared of giving a third grader lunch or a homeless person a house.

MILD SPOILERS for the very beginning of Tears of the Kingdom. I’ve been cracking myself up over how Rauru reattached Link’s arm

1 minute of washing machine time is like 10 minutes human time. they live on a completely different scale that we could never begin to conceptualize

As a teenager I was pretty unimpressed with adults giving each other tours of their homes and kitchens, but as an adult I now understand this is the equivalent of inviting your friends over to see all your toys and that’s chill actually

A friend has once again brought it to my attention that it is unusual to have an intact chronological memory of life prior to age 12 and you know what’s weird to ME is that the rest of yall forgot how to sing the clean-up song

sometimes I forget orchids grow on trees and I’m like. oh.