#harpy!reader

[naffeclipse]

Hey it’s been a hot minute! Still haven’t gotten around to ur fanfic, But! When I was looking at past art I found the harpy!yn I did for u and got hit hard with the “I could do Better” inspo so I got this :)!

Slightly more masc this round, pretty happy with it ngl :) (figuring out a color pattern for the torso was surprisingly more difficult than I thought it’d be) also lines r less crunchy! Found a good work around :)!

Also here’s it without the black coloration as it’s easier to see the sketchwork

Okkk byeee :3!!

THESE OUR GORGEOUS!! OHHH I LOVE THE NEW DESIGN! I do have a soft spot for your old one because it's just so lovely but I love how this adds more creature to their figure and makes them so cool! The one without the black colors looks like a really cool albino Harpy!Y/N and I just think that's a neat thought hehe

Thank you so much for sharing, babe! <3

[lotusloong]

Can you maybe write MKR!Wukong confessing his feelings to the reader? Please?

Gentle Pace

Relationship: MKR!Sun Wukong X Female Harpy!Reader

AN: Hoooo okay I am very sorry for how long it took to get this out, the past two-ish weeks have been pretty hectic irl, so my writing has been suffering a little. I finally got this done tho, I really hope you like it! I did try to get him to actually confess but MKR!Wukong was just like 'no im too emotionally guarded' so I got the closest thing to it.

Tags: Fluff, Sort of love confessions

Read it on AO3!

The fire crackles and flickers light over him, its warmth seeping into his bare feet. His hands are folded in front of him as he tries, and fails, to meditate.

Things had been quiet since the defeat of Yuandi, and Wukong feels the creeping dread of suspicion settling into his bones once more. Any day now, any moment, there's going to be another attack from yaoguais looking to steal his Master away. He knows it's coming, but that doesn’t stop the feeling of unease that the calm before the storm leaves him with.

Despite his efforts to meditate, he feels restless. His tail keeps twitching where it curls in the grass behind him, the only thing keeping it flat on the ground being the tiny fruit spirit curled up with the limb, using his fur as a blanket. Further behind him in the tree line, you sit and make up your sleeping area for the night. Wukong peeks at you over his shoulder, watching with quiet fascination as you make a pseudo-nest in the branches of a tree to get comfortable. Your colorful tail feathers dangle from the branch you sit on as you tie branches and leaves together, lining the semi circular shape with cloth from a bedroll you had purchased and subsequently tore into pieces. Every time your group moves on you collect all the fabric pieces you can, storing them in a bag to use for your next night of camping.

You look up from your little nest, meeting his eyes. He startles, looking back at the fire in front of him and trying in vain to stop the blush from rising in his cheeks. His ears twitch as he hears you glide down from your spot, your form settling down next to his in the soft grass. 

“You look lonely.” You tease. Wukong scoffs in mock offense, crossing his arms and scowling at the fire. 

“I'm the Monkey King, a yaoguai with power equal to heaven. I don't get lonely.” He huffs.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I have Fruitie.” You spare a glance at the tiny spirit just as he rolls off Wukong's tail, hands reaching for a fallen leaf in his sleep that he brings closer to cuddle, promptly snapping the dried material into little pieces. The little guy is drooling on the grass.

“Seems like good company.” You grin. His eyes dart down to your lips, wondering not for the first time how soft they must feel. They look soft, he thinks he would enjoy feeling them against his own…

Wukong jolts, glaring off into the starry night sky and hoping you won't notice his blush. Or if you do, that you'll blame it on the heat of the fire. The silence stretches on as you sit together, your presence bringing comfort to him he didn’t want to admit he craved. Your smell surrounds him, the sound of your steady, even breaths soothing his own nerves. His claws twitch in his lap, the desire to reach out to you and hold you prickling at his skin.

Would you let him? If he reached his hand out right now, just to set it on top of yours and gently pull you closer and into his lap, would you let him? Your sweet face tucked into the safety of his own neck, his lips able to press against the crown of your head…

The rustling of feathers catches his attention. You’ve unfolded one of your wings from your back, laying the limb out in your lap to preen and fix the feathers. They look so soft and colorful, and Wukong finds he (not for the first time) wants to trail his fingers over them all, to see what kind of sound you would make with his touch on such a sensitive part of you…

And then your fingers reveal a spot missing feathers, the skin underneath still rough and scarred. Wukong remembers how it happened, watching you soaring through the air to try and save Fruitie, to pull the tiny spirit to safety where Yuandi wouldn’t be able to follow, only for a dark tendril to spear into your wing. You had screamed and went spiraling, crashing into the dirt far from Wukong, where he couldn’t protect you-

He frowns.

You notice. You always notice when his mood changes.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” You whisper. He glances up at you, your eyes earnest and genuine as you try to reassure him. He looks away, huffing hot air from his nose in response.

“I didn’t say anything.” He grumbles.

“You didn’t have to.”

He huffs again, shoulders tense. Why are you so good at reading him? Why does he let you so close?

Wukong sighs, the tension draining from him and replaced with weariness. He knows why.

You suddenly stand up next to him and pat him on the head, fingers weaving through his soft fur. He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow and forces himself not to chitter in pleasure at the feeling of you petting him.

“Come on. Let’s go for a soar, get some of that pent up energy out of you.” With that you step away from the fire, stretching your arms high above your head and letting your wings stretch open to their full length. He watches where he still sits - the colors of your feathers look dazzling in the firelight. You glance over your shoulder at him, a coy smile on your lips.

“Well?” You call, a challenging tone to your voice. Wukong jolts, blinking rapidly before jumping into the air, summoning his cloud beneath him to land on. He glances at where Fruitie is still curled up, his broken leaf still clutched in his tiny hands. His gaze moves to Master Tang under a tree at the edge of the camp, his sleeping face peaceful.

Satisfied, he nods to himself and turns back to you, smirking deviously.

“Bet I could catch you.” He growls low in his throat, lowering himself into a crouched position on his cloud. Your eyes widen at his words, heat rushing to your cheeks. You giggle, and with a snap of your wings you're off the ground, speeding away from him.

Wukong takes off after you, the chill night breeze invigorating him as he gives chase.

One of his favorite things about your late night flying sessions together? You’re one of the few beings he knows (and enjoys the company of) that can keep up with his speed. You’re far ahead of him already, wings spread wide and gaining more distance with every flap. He doesn’t have to force himself to slow down to give you a chance of winning your game, you push him to actually use up his energy. 

You give him a challenge.

He loves it.

He somersaults over the reaching branches of a tree and lands on a new cloud, eyes never leaving you. You glance back at him, smiling with teeth and giving him a cheeky wave from your safe distance. The familiar feeling of competition floods through his veins and Wukong urges himself to go faster, pushing more power into his cloud. You follow suit, arching your wings high and pushing yourself higher up towards the cloud layer above you both. He watches as your tail feathers disappear above the puffy whiteness and turns his cloud to follow.

The dazzling sight of the milky way greets him above the cloud layer, the moon bright and full where it sits. Your colorful feathers seem to glisten under the light, and Wukong feels breathless as he watches you dive and arch through the air before him. 

The chase seems less important now, as he flies closer to you and spins in unison with your own form. You laugh in glee, following his circle as you move through the air, the wind rushing past you both. Your hands stretch towards him, and he doesn't hesitate for a moment before he's grabbing you back, the two of you spinning around and around with the stars around you. Energy courses through his veins and leaves him excited, your smell on the wind and your smile across from him. 

He slows down, gently tugging your warm hands into following his motions. You follow his lead and let yourself come to a gentle stop in the air, your feet coming to rest on his cloud. 

“Done already?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. “Growing old, Monkey King?” Wukong gives an amused huff at your words, rolling his eyes even as he grins at you. 

“Not done, just…wanted to take a moment.” He admits. You cock your head to the side in question but don't pull away. He's thankful for it, his heart beating a million miles a second as he watches you. 

You go out of your way to help him and his…emotional difficulties. He knows he's a hard ass, Bajie wouldn't hesitate to bad mouth him to anyone who would listen, but you always seem to have patience for him. More than that, you actually empathize with him, trying to help him understand his frustrations and anger when it's too much. 

It hadn't been his idea to go on nightly flights over the world when he grew tense, but yours. You had taken one look at him that first night, tail flicking in irritation and a snarl on his lips, before clapping your hands and demanding he go flying with you. He had resisted at first, unwilling to leave his Master and suspicious of your intentions still. You knew how to read him even then though, and had challenged him with no hesitation to prove that he could fly better. 

Since then it has become your little ritual, a way for the two of you to get away from everyone else when things are too much.

Wukong wishes he had a way to tell you all this, how much he appreciates your presence and help. How much he's come to rely on your steady, calm demeanor compared to his feisty vengeful one. 

How much you mean to him. 

His hand comes up between the two of you, reaching for your cheek before he freezes, uncertainty making him second guess himself. 

Your eyes follow his movement, and for one heart stopping moment he thinks this is it, you're going to scoff at him and pull away. That you'll glare and call him a ‘bastard monkey’ for daring to even think such soft thoughts about you. He's a brute, a greedy yaoguai that would break something as gentle as you…

But you don't do that. 

You step closer to him, your own hand coming up to grip him by the wrist and bring it up to your face. His breath catches in his throat and he swallows, eyes locked with yours. He feels the gentle pressure of your lips on the pad of his pointer finger, followed by pressure on his middle, then his ring and then his pinky. His thumb is the last to get a kiss, and you trail those incredibly gentle lips down to his palm and finally the soft inner part of his wrist where you hold it. 

Your eyes never leave his the whole time.

When you're finished, you place his hand on your cheek on purpose, nuzzling against his calloused skin like it's the best thing you've ever felt, your eyes fluttering closed. He shudders in delight, closing his eyes as he savors the feeling of your skin under his rough claws. It’s overwhelming, just this simple touch has him losing himself. He wants more, but he can’t, you’re too soft, too right and comfortable. It’s dangerous to feel this way.

Not that he even deserves your affection if he can’t even say the damn words clawing at the back of his throat.

“I…I want…” He chokes, frustrated with himself. His free hand curls into a fist as his brow furrows in concentration. Why is this so hard? How did you make it look so easy? It’s a perfect moment even - the moon shining bright above you both with an endless starry sky, white puffy clouds under your feet. This is the kind of moment that hopeless romantics dream of when it comes to romance, to have a confession in such a beautiful place. 

He wants to tell you, he wants to share the quiet spaces of his stone heart with you and only you…if you would have him.

“Wukong.” You come to his rescue, as usual. “It’s alright.”

“Huh?”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything you aren’t ready for.” You whisper to him, like it’s a secret only the two of you will ever share. A growl reverberates through his chest, anger directed at himself. 

“I want to. I want to tell you…to-...let you know-” His fur ruffles and puffs up with agitation, and he shakes himself to get rid of the response. You hide a smile into his palm still cupping the curve of your cheek. He can feel your breath against his pulse.

“We have time.” You say, looking at him with such certainty he almost believes you.

“But-...but I…”

“Wukong. I’ll let you set the pace. We can go as fast or slow as you feel comfortable with.” A nerve is soothed inside him, your gentle reassurance more than what he could have asked for.

“And what about…about k-kissing, or-” He lets his remaining anxiety slip out, craving your soothing words. Your own hands come up to cup his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing the line of black on his cheekbones. He all but melts into your touch. He could slip through the cloud layer and fall to earth right now and he’d be content. 

“Whenever you’re ready. You can kiss me now, or tomorrow, or 500 years from now. I will wait.” Heat rises to your own cheeks, your gaze turning shy at your own words. “If all you can do right now is this-”

You use one hand to gesture around you both before bringing it back to his cheek, where he craves for it to stay.

“Joining me at beautiful sights and l-letting me hold you…h-holding me back…” Your smile makes his stomach flutter. “Then that’s enough. It’ll always be enough.”

A small, scared voice in the depths of his soul finally quiets at your words. You mean it. He can take his time to explore this with you, to learn to trust these feelings you ignited in him. He follows his instincts, moving both his hands to your waist and pulling you closer, chest to chest. He lets his forehead rest against your own, your breath mingling and your fingers still playing with the fur on his head.

“Thank you. I promise…I’ll get there.” 

The two of you stand there, under the light of stars and moon, and revel in your new shared secret.

[random-tail]

Eclipse u better run.. I mean swim.

Based off this comment

Orca!eclipse belongs to @naffeclipse

[melanirana]

My take on @naffeclipse Harpy Pinguin!Y/N

Just some lazy sketches, they turned out a bit more monster then I originaly wanted but it has grown on me. Also if you aks me to draw a defining feature on a human, you might as well ask me to jump off a clif.

I like to think that Sun and Moon like to play with the feathers Y/N loses during molting

[demigoddessqueens]

Percy getting a kiss from a shy chubby harpy mc?

Sure thing!

A/n - based off @creativepromptsforwriting list of prompts here, “a short and sweet kiss in the morning”

Masterlist 11

He knew he would find you out on the balcony in the early morning. You always liked watching the sunrise.

As you were admiring how beautiful the sun turned the pinks and blues of dusk into a golden ocean for the morning, Percy saw how perfect you looked right now.

Wings spread out, the warmth became an extension of you as feathers were illuminated to show the hidden colors of them. To him, the curves and voluptuous shape of your body made you look like a regal sun goddess.

Could the gods be so jealous of a mortal if a mortal was more entrancing than their divinity?

It almost looked like you were meditating as your chest fell and rose with each breath.

Turning around to leave and start your day, you saw the smitten expression on his pink flushed cheeks. Feeling bold, you strutted over for a good morning kiss as is routine, but still feeling elated that he was just here now.

“Enjoying the show?”

[cailaventog]

Dunno if I ever posted this but if I did here it is again, the gang!

@naffeclipse

[fyrerainy]

Saw the ask about Orclipse collecting all his birdies and just couldn't resist. I designed polar bear!y/n myself and I'm so proud of them!! I also love the colouring on ribbon seal!y/n and leopard seal!y/n. Sedka's in there too! Click for better quality. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go work on my SS becuase I haven't even STaRtED!!!

Piece featuring: Orca!Eclipse, Humpback!Y/N, beluga!y/n, leopard seal!y/n, selkie!y/n, photographer!y/n, ribbon seal!y/n, harpie!y/n, and polar bear!y/n. They are all from different versions of Apex Polarity by @naffeclipse

[miasmaclockworks]

Marine and harpy fighting

On the other hand-

these guys just watching

[bunnis-monsters]

The harpy farm work keeps you busy most days.

Every harpy male has his own schedule and day he needs to be preened, so you’re always seen covered in feathers and love bites.

Your job is to give each harpy male attention and keep them from becoming depressed. Every day you clean their pins, take time cuddling them, and let them fondle you a bit if its mating season.

Because they all view you as their mate, you’re the only human woman allowed inside the farm.

There are three different types of harpies. While any type can resemble a variety of birds, their bodies are different and can be more dangerous.

The first are the least dangerous. They have wings and talons, but possess a mostly human body with working limbs. They are the most docile and act like any normal human would. These harpies are incredibly affectionate with most human females, but become attached to one and view them as a mate.

The second type have wings for arms and scaly bird feet from their lower thigh and downwards. Though they can speak, they are usually more quiet and tend to resemble birds a bit more. They dislike being around any other creature besides their chosen mate, and will attempt to flee if approached by something with an unfamiliar scent. Because of this, they have tracking bracelets on their ankles.

The third are the most dangerously. From the waist down, they have the body of a dragon and bird, like a chimera. These harpies are incapable of speech, and kill any creatures besides their preferred mate on sight. They are usually the size of a small car, but can grow as large as a bus depending on the type of bird they descend from.

Though your primary task is keeping the harpies calm and happy, you have a secret secondary task.

You are to mate with the harpies and attempt to conceive the first new harpy of the century. The species is dying out, and you are the only person any of the males have responded to.

Send asks about this story if you’d like to learn more! I’m still thinking about specific characters rn, so feel free to send ideas for ocs ^^

[monstersholygrail]

Harpy Knight was the greasiest warrior their kingdom had ever known. A creature they found deep in the woods, wounded and afraid. They oh so generously took him in and trained him among their human army to fight against their enemies. Grateful to them for saving his life, he didn’t hesitate to strike down all their foes with the fierce swiping of his claws. 

Soon it became all he knows. Every day is the same. He wakes up every morning in a very comfy nest (cage), waiting for them to let him out and feed him the tasty scraps of last nights dinner and maybe a nice mouse or two if he’s lucky. 

Then they drag him out onto battlefield, always leading the charge, and let him fight to his hearts content. By the end of the day exhilaration is pumping through his veins, a wide playful smile on his face. After, they bring him back to his nest and he sleeps deeply waiting for the next day where he’ll do it all over again. 

Harpy Knight wouldn’t change a thing. This was much better than his old life. Always lost without another creature in sight. He vaguely remembers others, like him, but… something happened to them. Though it’s hard to remember, all of it a thick blur. He was only a hatchling after all. One minute they were just there and the next they weren’t. 

But now he has his lance, his men-in-arms, to keep him company. There was always someone to talk to and play with. And now that he had other people to talk to he found he did it often. There was always something to do and talk about. Even though his fellow knights weren’t as talkative he still enjoyed being around them. 

Harpy Knight notices that today however, the whole camp is lit up in a roar of whispers. His feathers perk up, excitement simmers through his veins and ruffles his feathers. Racing around the camp his claws dig into the earth to try and hold back from clinging onto someone, eager to join the conversation. 

From what he manages to catch amongst them, it seems like there’s a rumor going around about you, their beloved Princess and heir to the throne. Everyone in the kingdom loved you and lusted after your softness and exquisite curves. He isn’t afraid to admit either that he’s found himself getting hard at the paintings he’s seen of you. 

Though word has it you’ve narrowly escaped yet another assassination attempt. They’ve been growing more and more frequent as your impending ascension grows nearer. Five food testers have died already due to unknown criminals poisoning your food and drink. Six kidnapping missions have been launched and ultimately failed due to your guards protection. And you’ve managed to dodge more than nine flying arrows while out in public. 

Harpy Knight has heard most of all about the wounds your guards have suffered in their vow to protect you. It was truly terrible. If there was something he could do he’d do in a heartbeat. He owed everything he had to the grace of the King after all. 

So maybe that was why when he’s later dragged into the Knight Commanders tent and told he’s being taken to the castle to become your new personal Knight, he could feel his wings flutter with a heavy sense of anticipation. Waiting for the moment where he’ll finally be able to see you in person. Of course he was sad to leave the only family he’s ever remembered. But this was a chance, a real chance to payback the debt he owed for giving him a place to belong. 

Harpy Knight celebrates that night around the fire with his fellow men. Strange powerful drinks are passed around till his vision blurs and he feels weirdly dizzy despite sitting down. The Knights all cheer and toast to him, calling him lucky to be in close quarters with you. And indeed he does feel lucky. From what he’s heard you’re charitable, kind, and so very beautiful. 

Once more his cock hardens at the thought of you. He’s used to it by now but it threatens to slip from its sheath in front of everyone, making a blush burn across his cheeks, slightly coloring the feathers there. Quickly dismissing himself from the party he retreats back to his nest, the click of the closing gate rings and he knows he’ll he stuck there till the morning. That’s fine. He has his thought of you to keep him busy, among other things. 

Harpy Knight takes out the folded up painting one of the other Knights had given him with your face plastered on it. The outskirts of it were a little marked up with a few white splatters but your face was still perfectly visible and untouched. At the sight of your pretty eyes staring back into him his cock slips out of its sheath and smacks against his stomach, smearing beads of pre on it. 

Low pleasured chirps leave him as his claws wrap around his massive cock. His eyes flutter closed and soon your image replaces the darkness behind his lids. Your hand instead of his, hesitantly pumping up and down his length. He groans as he imagines how nervous you’d be. His cock is much bigger than that of a humans. He’s bathed in the river with the others enough times to be sure of that. 

Harpy Knight would fuck you so good. You’d be nervous, wondering if he’d even be able to fit. Of course he’d do his best to reassure you, telling you that he’d make it fit. Right before he softly pushes your hand away and starts eating you out for hours, making you cum so many times until your form is all nice and pliant, your chubby cunt flowering open and begging for his cock to fill the empty depths. 

Rolling onto his belly he craves the friction that can only come from your silken walls gripping him, sucking him back in with every hard thrust he’d give you. But all he can do now is rut into his nest like a madman, growling roughly as his hips snap into the shredded cotton of his nest.   

Harpy Knight can’t control his wings as they furiously flap within the nest, smacking against the metal walls that surround him. Oh how he longs to wrap them around you, keeping you still as he drives into you harder and faster while you beg for more. Stories and rumors are all he has to go off of yet it’s enough to make him hopelessly in love with you. 

Moaning your name he fucks himself even harder, an arm slipping behind him to boldly pop a claw into his pulsing hole. Pleasure burns white hot at the added stimulation and his mind flips with the fantasy of what it would be like to be inside you, to feel your wandering hands explore him and fill him up in return. The thought has his cock twitching, balls tightening, knot swelling, the thought of you powerful enough to trigger it. 

Harpy Knight cums with a loud shout of your name, staring deeply at your painting as he shoots ropes and ropes of his release all over his nest till it’s soaked through. His knot aches with nothing to lock itself inside of and despite abandoning all he’s known he suddenly yearns to leave camp and head straight for you at the castle. 

Even after his orgasm begins to ebb and fade, his cock remains just as hard, clearly not satisfied without the real thing. Lifting a hand up to your painting he traces your features softly, and getting a bit of his cum on your face in the process. Which only has him leaking more into his nest. With a pained groan he starts rubbing his cock again, unable to stop till he’s fucked himself to exhaustion. He hasn’t even met you yet and you have his instincts this riled up. Who knows what will happen when he arrives at the castle. 

pt 2…?

[naffeclipse]

I've been writing Harpy!Y/N with the siren babies and I can't stop thinking about the twins grown up but still young, paired with the fact that their one parent is a harpy, and that one scene from Tarzan keeps replaying over and over in my head of grown-up scary siren Moon creeping along the surface to the edge of icy land, about to scare his small harpy parent but—

Harpy!Y/N: *preening their feathers and doesn't look up* Don't even think about it.

Orca!Moon: *pouts and half-flops on the ice beside Harpy!Y/N* How'd you know it was me?

Harpy!Y/N: I'm your parent, chick, I know everything. Now where is your brother?

Orca!Moon: *grinning like Eclipse* I thought you knew everything—OUGH *pulled into the water by Orca!Sun as they begin roughhousing and splashing water onto the ice*

Orca!Sun: *popping his head out of the water while shoving Orca!Moon under* Good morning! You're looking remarkedly preened today.

Harpy!Y/N: *softly, amused* Hello, chick.

[docdudo]

MASTERLIST

Here's a list to better organize the drafts i have written:

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader

Parts In Order:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Asks:

People Sizes

House Sizes

Nesting For Humans

Werewolves' Hands

Can They Reach Door Handles?

Human Babies - 1

Human Babies - 2

Reader Getting Sick

Life Expectancy

Home Alone

Who They Prefer?

Sharing Food

Their Kids

Hybrid Games

Playing On The Snow

Running Away

Hate Touch

Spicy Food

Service Hybrids

Oral Fixation

Broken Ankle

Ghost's mask

Flying with Gaz

Abusive House Hold

Their Kids - 2

Plushies and Preening

Periods

Mimicking Their Sounds

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader

Parts In Order:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Asks:

Familiar Sizes

Taunts

A Witch's Birth

Relationship Between Familiars And Witches

Do They Know How To Take Care Of Children?

Species

Death and Bonds

What Are Familiars?

What's Their Relationship Like?

Vampire 141 - Fledgling!Reader

Parts In Order:

Part 1

Asks:

Shock

Feeding

Venom

Fic Arts?

Foster child!reader with dad wraith!Ghost

Foster child!reader with dad wraith!Ghost (Black ver.)

Art On The Banner: @bluegiragi

Profile Picture: Me (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

[random-tail]

A mini comic Doodle based off this ask

Based off of the ever growing Apex Polarity au by @naffeclipse

Humpback!reader designed by @cailaventog

Harpy!reader designed by @shine-boo

[naffeclipse]

This is phenomenal oh my gosh!!! I'm blown away by this comic!!!

I love that the lighter background is used for Harpy!Y/N and the darker background highlights how dangerous and imposing Eclipse is! Poor Y/N's terrified movement contrasted with how terrifying Eclipse is, from his eyes to his teeth and then his whole being! I'm rattling these panels so hard right now, you have no idea!

I'm not normal about Eclipse about to swim out of frame, he's going to GET his prey (Y/N!!!) Then, augh, the focus on the eyes to enhance what they're both feeling before a glorious humpback comes along to save the day!!

I simply love Eclipse's dorsal fin cutting through the surface like a shark before he disappears, that is absolute *mwah*! And that it happens behind Y/N is so chilling!!!

Y/N hiding beside the whale's flipper makes my heart melt and ECLIPSE DOWN THERE AHHHH I'M CHOMPING THIS ART TO PIECES HRHRHGHGHGHGHHGHR

Thank you so much for sharing! ♥

A comic based on this ask about Orca!Eclipse reaction to humpback whales saving his prey, so I had to. Went a bit bonkers for my standards.

And of course Cardinal Instinct/ Apex Ploarity are from the wonderfull @naffeclipse Enjoy!

[girl-lostconnection]

Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy and you are starting to push it. Thin ice there.

Oh? 👀

Continuation to this

@nightunite friend, come eat. Also shout out to them for the idea of Reader not kissing John and using his beard as “seal kiss” to get information instead

John is not amused with how fast you get the ground in his team. John is even less amused with how quickly you manage to wrap all his men around your finger and never think to ask yourself whether it’s a wise move.

Almost like you don’t fucking care what he think about you or your methods, almost like you have no insecurities or cracks he can get a claw in and move around until doors to your head get off the hinges.

John doesn’t like it.

You are seemingly everywhere and all at once — you lunch with Kyle and you train with Johnny and you shower with Simon and you shoot with Kyle and you work with Johnny and you train rookies with Simon and you chat with Kyle and you groom Johnny and you kiss Simon—

You don’t seem to have place for one more person.

You don’t even seem to think about fitting in one more person, like John isn’t even the fucking captain of his TaskForce anymore. Fucking hell.

John furrows his brows at you murmuring something in Kyle’s ear which leaves him dazed and a little lovestruck, his eyes so sharp you could cut to the bone, his eyes so hungry Price would start worrying whether or not Garrick is going to eat you alive.

But seems like for now Kyle only wants to eat you out.

And judging by the looks of it, you have yet to give in — teasing his sergeant like it’s your job, sliding the tips of your fingers between his shoulder blades and offering to rub his aching back after day full of drills.

Kyle preens and shows off, Kyle smiles at you and it would have been fucking deadly if he didn’t like you this much.

Kyle doesn’t like coming in last place.

Kyle is primordial greed and primordial ambition, Kyle is used to being the best of the best of the best, Kyle is the apex predator and the youngest sergeant on the team.

And Kyle dances in circles around you for weeks now with progress taking steps so small John thinks that Kyle is gonna get his fucking kiss from you next spring.

Only because you seem to have so much fun with it.

Still, John doesn’t like the effect you have on his men and he doesn’t like that he himself can’t seem to not like you.

John doesn’t like that he’s waiting for his kiss now.

But you already kissed Johnny and Simon, it’s only fair if John gets a kiss too, right? Don’t you worry that your captain might grow displeased with you?

Don’t you want to check “the vibes”?

But if you do, you seem to do a good fucking job not giving John a single fucking clue other than occasional grin here and there. Drives him up the fucking wall, it does.

He snaps at Simon when he notices that lieutenant is outright smirking, corners of his lips so sharp it’s a fucking miracle you don’t cut yourself on it when you pull Ghost by the scruff of his neck to kiss him again.

It’s not even fucking noon, why would you be kissing Simon now?

John huffs air out, his tail swishing through the air from side to side, his molars aching to bite down on the slope of your exposed neck — to squeeze, to topple, to get you down.

To get his fucking kiss.

He feels ridiculous for wanting it so badly, he’s a grown man for fuck’s sake.

So when you finally lean in a little closer than usually, your face so focused John can’t help but grumble out “need somethin’, sergeant?”, hating the way his heart pounds.

You get closer and John can feel salt on his tongue, high waters threatening to pull him under, currents sweeping him off his feet, your breathing soft thing on his lips.

Only you don’t kiss him.

John blinks, trying to scramble his mind back, trying to force down already blooming bruise of rejection when you nose at his beard instead and hum something unintelligible.

You pull away slowly, like you are coming up after a dive, even your breathing slows down — deep and controlled, you nose away at his chin before finally sitting back.

Price doesn’t know what to say because he doesn’t trust himself not to ask you what do you think is wrong with him. Is that the cigar smell? Are seals sensitive to scents? Are you sensitive to scents? What the fuck just happened?

Price doesn’t want to admit but he was looking forward to getting that kiss.

Price doesn’t want to admit but out of the corner of his eye he watches the way you kiss Johnny and Simon — the depth, the tenderness, the licking waves of your intimacy that you seem to submerge his men completely in.

Price doesn’t want to admit, but he keeps imagining himself in their place, thinking how you’d kiss him, playing endless scenarios in his head.

Would you let him get you on his desk and finally get a hold of you thighs, because god, one more leg day and John won’t be able to fucking concentrate. For the rest of his life.

Would you pull him in your lap instead? Would you melt into him like you melt into Johnny? Would you cuddle him like you cuddle Simon? Would you hold him?

But all of these are just endless fantasies, silly dreams that keep tormenting him when you smile with your teeth, when you bent down and he gets a glimpse of your unmarked throat, when you lean a little closer and he can taste salt on the tip his tongue.

On the bright side it seems like it’s not that John is damaged or anything of the sort, he tells himself. After all, you keep teasing Kyle as well — not letting hungry harpy sink his claws into you and tear out some bleeding meat out of you.

So that’s silver lining, right?

So John rubs his face until the image of you grinning under his eyelids is not as vivid and takes the whole team out for drinks after successful mission. God knows they need it.

He needs it.

You sit nestled in between Simon and Johnny, hand of the former is dripped over your shoulders, hand of the latter is squeezing your thigh.

As if you are going to run away if these two don’t hold onto you, anchoring you to the seat of the booth.

Johnny steals your chips, offering his fried fish instead. Steals more than chips, frankly, booze makes Soap needy and you ever the glutton for attention kiss him until lad’s palm starts squeezing your thigh a little too eagerly.

John pretends he doesn’t notice the way Soap’s knuckle traces the inseam of your jeans.

John pretends he doesn’t notice the way Simon’s fingers dip under the collar of your T-shirt, pads of his fingers tracing idle patterns. Simon doesn’t give a fuck how much you kiss his boy if he gets to watch.

Simon doesn’t give a fuck even harder if he gets a kiss as well while his boy watches.

Price down his whiskey and orders another one.

Silver lining starts losing its shine faster than he’d like it, because even though Kyle watches you like…well, like a harpy he is, you just blow him a kiss and then give Simon an actual one.

Ghost licks into your mouth with wet indecent sound and breaks a kiss just to murmur something in your ear. When he turns to his captain and youngest sergeant his smirk is wicked enough to make a grown weep.

Greedy bastard enjoys it way too fucking much.

But Simon excuses himself for a smoke so John pushes the glass away and follows him out. He needs to either break his lieutenant’s jaw or find out why the fuck you deemed him bottom of the barrel.

Why he’s not getting a kiss? Don’t you like your captain?

Ghost watches him like it’s the funniest shit he’s seen in literal weeks and it might as well be, because John feels like drinking some more and calling it a day.

Silver lining, he’s not alone in this boat. Silver lining, he’s not the last of the pick.

Silver lining strains, but shines through when he steps in the bathroom because Kyle is there. And you are there. And fucking Soap is there.

What is it, a bloody convention he didn’t get tickets to?

John kicks the three of you back to the booth, his mind hazy from whiskey, his throat aching with bitterness. It takes him another minute or so to realise Soap’s zipper was open. Takes him one more to remember you had hickeys on your neck.

John gets out of the bathroom, shaking water off his hands and stalks back to the booth, tail swishing, his agitation climbing up.

Silver lining chokes at the back of his throat like cotton, tastes like old oil and stuffs him bloody silent since Simon is back, listening to chatty tipsy Soap without a care in the world.

Simon doesn’t give a fuck who does what if he has his boy by his side.

Simon doesn’t give a fuck even harder when he knows where his other seal is.

Simon grins like a bastard he is, sharp points of the curl of his lips poking at the underside of John’s ribs and says that Kyle went out for a smoke.

John doesn’t ask where you went to when he knows you don’t smoke.

He just stalks out, swinging pub’s back door open and working his jaw because smoke break, his ass.

Kyle has you backed to the wall, cooing something unintelligible, nosing at your cheeks and throat, clicking his tongue at you when you giggle.

Your hands are wrapped around Kyle’s shoulders, pulling him in and closer. Sinking your fingers in the tight muscles of his wings, murmuring something in sergeant’s ear.

You are soft from beers you had, warm with buzz of the pub and tender in a way that makes John’s molars ache.

And all your focus is on Kyle, only on Kyle, ever on Kyle when say “don’t be like that”, when you say “I know, I’m sorry, that was mean. Did I upset you, baby?”, when you say “come here. can I kiss you? I really want to. Can I? Please, Kyle, I’m gonna be good, i promise”.

John’s silver lining cracks and withers away with the chapped pieces of cheap foil shining in the light of street lamps and the glow of your eyes when you pepper Kyle’s face with kisses.

Kyle is half-lidded and hazy on you, Kyle leans closer, almost pouting when you kiss him everywhere but on the lips. Very fucking funny, you see him laughing, darling?

Kyle clicks his tongue when you giggle again but his eyes are so fond it feels more of an act than genuine frustration. Like he can’t help but like you a little too much.

Kyle nuzzles in your palm and presses wet open-mouthed kisses to your wrist, softly nips the thin skin there, laves the imprint of his teeth with the wet slide of his tongue.

Molten, hungry, dangerous.

Kyle could bite down on your wrist and leave you without a hand, Kyle could bite out more than you can give and lick at the twitching muscle, tasting the feverish pump of your heart straight out the box.

But Kyle doesn’t.

Kyle coos something about you driving him fucking insane, Kyle tilts his head so you can kiss him properly and presses you into the brick wall.

His groan when you finally kiss him is the best reward there is, because yes, fucking finally, thank you, darling.

You are kissing him like Kyle is water you’ve been deprived of, you are kissing him like that’s the only thing that matters, you are kissing him and nothing else exists.

And Kyle doesn’t break the kiss, too hungry and greedy he surges forward — your teeth clicking, the wet sounds of yours are filthy enough to make John’s jeans a little uncomfortable.

You wrap yourself around Kyle and choke when he pushes a knee between your legs, drool dripping down your chin because if Kyle could he would have swallowed you whole.

Because you don’t need air, you need Gaz.

John doesn’t know for how long you kiss, but he can tell that for a moment there two of you definitely contemplated whether or not you want to fuck in a bloody alleyway behind the pub.

John doesn’t know what to say when you finally look at him so he just silently stares back, tail swishing behind him, his molar aching when you smile like nothing happened.

“Communication going well, sergeant?”, he asks for some godforsaken reason and tries not to cringe at the way his other sergeant tucks his palm in your back pocket. This generation has no bloody shame.

“I suppose so, sir”, you smile wide enough for John to see the peeking sharp points of your teeth from under your upper lip. “Seal to harpy communication, sir. I’d say we definitely found…a common ground”, you beam and John feels like ramming down the doors to your head.

Fuck looking for cracks, he wants to crack down on you and see what the fuck is in the head of yours.

Why don’t you like him? What’s wrong with him? Why don’t you kiss him?

But John doesn’t ask and just hums before returning back to the pub. His face so grim Simon does the wise thing and stuffs Soap’s mouth with another chip before he can ask anything.

On the contrary you return with Kyle’s palm still in the back pocket of your jeans and a handful new hickeys.

John orders himself another whiskey and says to himself that he is not going to look at you, that it’s just how it is, that he is not going to run after you and beg a kiss out of you.

John looks at you anyway and you send him a wink.

Glass almost splinters in his hand, whiskey slowly dribbling out on the wooden table, John’s tail swishing behind him, John’s molars aching when you smile with teeth.

Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy and you just toppled the whole pyramid.

Ice is starting to crack.

[suiana]

yandere! harpy who tries offering you his mating feather because he just loves you so much! he wants you to be his and what better way than to make you his mate?

he had met you a few months back after you got lost in the forest. his part of the forest of course. the harpy was a little confused by the appearance of some random human in the dead of the night. what were you doing here?

unfortunately he never found out. but that didn't matter. if you didn't wanna share that's totally fine. (you were passed out and couldn't talk)

he's worried that you might die if he let you be though, so he decided to watch over you while you fell asleep on the floor of his cave. aw, you're so cute! humans are adorable! you'd probably scream and try to get away from him when you woke up so he'll hide away.

....what he didn't expect was to get smothered by you...

"eh? what are you-"

"fluffy birdman."

"ahahah.... yeah..."

and just like that, a beautiful friendship was formed. and he found out that you were actually looking for the harpy (him). he was... flattered? embarrassed? a human was looking for him? why?

"cause birds are cool. and you're a bird so why not? also, i'm a researcher :3"

"um... ahaha..."

you came back to visit him again and again after that encounter. bearing gifts, talking to him, sharing about your life, asking about his life... the harpy was beginning to become a little more than just protective over you. you gave him gifts! surely this must be some sort of mating ritual for humans!

how could a bird like him distinguish between pure interest and love?

and you realized that too. unfortunately by the time you noticed his change in personality, it was too late.

"will you accept my mating feather?"

his big round eyes, plagued with obsession as his cheeks flush a beautiful red. you could only step back in horror as the harpy flashed a deceivingly innocent smile.

"sorry..."

silence filled the air as the harpy's smile dropped. ah. you rejected him?

"w-why? was my feather not pretty enough? should i pick another one?"

the harpy's chirps soon turned frantic as e grabs you by the arms and stares right into your very soul. why, why, why? weren't you interested in him? you're his mate aren't you? you love him!

no, someone must've tried to steal you away from him.

"is there someone else? someone tried to take my mate from me?"

you could only let out a shaky whimper as you stared at how his expression did a 180. no longer was he smiling or staring at you like a lovesick fool. no, now he was... looking right into your very being like you belonged to him.

"must be some other human... no worries, i'll just keep you with me. you should be with me anyway. my mate."

oops. looks like you fucked with the wrong bird.