#harpie's hunting ground

[gremlingottoosilly]

141 with a soft, crybaby bunny reader who stumbled upon their base after being chased by a scary predator, not knowing they're worse than the monster who previously hunted her.

Awww...you're so scared, so vulnerable - if only you were a hare hybrid, with strong legs and good hearing. If only you were a fast, resilient creature, if only your monster form weren't even more helpless than your human one... You get it now - it would be better to die, to perish in predator's arms, than to sit on the lap of men who would love to devour you in every other scene. It's better to die than to have this crazy harpy push you over the edge of the watch tower only to catch you in the last moment - his mouth already forces its way to carve bite marks in your breasts, listening to the panicking beating of your fragile, weak heart. If you were stronger, you could have survived the fall without help - but you cry and squeal as the harpy pushes you clothes to his embrace, laughing when your fluffy ears are trembling and you cling to him, begging to not let go. Bunnies like their burrows deep in the ground...you'd have to get used to be suspended in the air.

Ghost was really going to kill you when he first saw you - such a pathetic, weak thing, your lips trembling and your nose twitching as you smell the decay on his skin. Poor thing, he almost feels sorry for you - but your cries are so delightful when he buries his cock deep between your soft bunny thighs, lying as he squishes your soft little tail in his paws. You might be just a human with few monster parts - but oh, aren't they just adorable. Ghost isn't the one to be soft with you, but he is here when you stumble into his quarters, rubbing your pretty legs together as you cry in the depths of your heat. He is the only one with enough undead stamina to handle your hungry, soaked pussy. Soap was the one to capture you in the first place - when you were running away from some weak, pathetic fox hybrid, when you were considered a petty enough prey - the werewolf didn't even acknowledge you at first, thrilled and high on the fight from the hybrid who breached 141 territories...and then he saw you. You didn't even get that he is a werewolf at first - you were so cute, so trusting, you begged him for help and shelter...and he gave it to you. He held you close, teeth buried in your shoulder when you started to push him away, when you finally noticed that he is your biggest threat out here. But, oh, how could he resist the swell of his knot in your plump bunny ass? And Price, oh, he is the only one you could really trust here. Gaz and Soap are your natural predators, Ghost is Death himself, but the bear hybrid...you thought he'd be different. Soft. He doesn't want to eat you, oh no - but you soon find out tat he is hungry for you just like all the others. Price loves his pretty bunny pet, you're so tiny compared to him - he lifts you in his arms and pushes your face in his hairy chest, forcing you to bounce on his meaty cock when you squirm and cry. He is breeding you, pushing the rest aside - you don't think you remember the night when you weren't laying under him, his cock buried deep in your cunt. You really should have think twice before asking the pack for help...

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 7

(Last of my predrawn beast men, so I should probably see if I can get the next chapter picture drawn despite my slow af laptop fighting me for every bit of existence)

Warnings; Yandere, platonic yandere, romantic yandere yandere behavior, yandere tempers, yandere attitudes, custody battle, poaching, territorial behavior, hoard guarding, implied violence, cooking, casual threats, untrusting yet kind-hearted reader, fem pronouned reader, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, Dragon, Crow, Unicorn, Cecilia, Harpy, Nemean Lion, Shinigami, Water Nymph, Gnoll, Crow,

~~~~~~~~

The loud crack of thunder drew you from your deep sleep. You had been pressing your face and entire body into the warmth beneath you and you could already feel the faint imprints along your cheek from whatever you were laying on. Thunder continued to roll outside and you slowly tried to gather your bearings.

Currently, you were in the nest Malleus had constructed in Ramshackle, though you were not the only occupant when you fell asleep or when you woke up. Lilia and Sebek were awake, their gazes turned outside and it was still rather dark out. You slowly sat up, trying to see what was so interesting outside when a green bolt of lighting struck the ground near Ramschackle. The sudden lighting forced a squeak of fright to escape you which drew the attention of Lilia and Sebek.

"I was worried he would wake you. It's alright, (Y/n), go back to sleep."

"What's going on, Lilia?"

"An unfortunate poacher decided to try their luck and Malleus was the one who took note of their presence. Don't worry, you're safe."

"Is Malleus okay?"

Lilia giggled at this, reaching out a hand to pat your head in an affectionate way. He was acting as if he didn't just say Malleus was fighting someone who was trying to hunt you down for their own nefarious gains.

"Of course he is. Malleus is a Dragon and there are very few who can actually stand up against a Dragon."

You were going to respond to Lilia when you noticed something strange. Silver didn't seem to be present and he certainly wasn't with Lilia or Sebek. Worry began to bubble up in your chest as to where the Reindeer man could possibly be before you felt the warm bed beneath you breathe.

Looking down, you were both horrifed with yourself and the situation as you realized you had been laying across Silver's Reindeer half like a bed. Your legs straddled the Reindeer's hips and you had likely been nuzzled down into the shoulder blades of the deer half. His human half was sitting up and completely still even as one of his blue and purple aurora colored eyes stared at you over his shoulder.

He was very warm and soft.

"Oh? Oh! Goodness, Silver, I'm so sorry-!"

As soon as it hit you that you must have crawled on top of the Reindeer during the night, you were quickly trying to get off of his back. Lilia actually started to laugh as you quickly dismounted from the Reindeer's back, falling back into a pile of pillows and disrupting poor Grim. The cat-like creature responded in a startled way to being jostled, his pronged tail lashing wildly as his fur stood on end in fear. You would have laughed at the startled response if you didn't feel so badly about frightening him to that point.

"Myeh?! Hey! What's the big deal? I'm sleeping-"

Another crack of thunder sent the furball diving forward to hide against your stomach, shaking in abject horror from the uncomfortably close sound. Of course Grim would be terrified of lightning, who knows how easily that 'den' of his would flood in a storm or how close he has been to being struck by a bolt. You couldn't help but pull the soft gray critter closer, petting his torn ears and back to try and soothe him even as his little wings shook.

"... You can lay on my back if that will help you sleep."

The almost tired drawl came from Silver as he slightly turned to look at you better, his Reindeer half partially rolling to one side when he yawned. Despite how inviting the offer was, you were still upset with yourself and worried you had offended the silver haired man somehow. Though you had been dubious about sharing the large nest with your- mostly uninvited- guests, you had been the one to invade his personal space and even climbed on his back while you slept.

"No! No, it's okay. I'm so sorry, Silver. I didn't mean to-"

"Why are you so upset?"

"... What?"

"I'm not angry, if that's why you're worried. Father sleeps on my back quite often during the day. I'm not angry you chose me as your sleeping companion."

"But I didn't mean to-"

"I know. You likely were drawn to how warm I typically am. It is quite drafty in this building, and it doesn't seem like there is any central heating."

You made a mental note to ask the professors about potentially acquiring a heated blanket to avoid cuddling your bed companions while you slept. It seemed like Silver was being truthful with you as Lilia crawled over to your side from where he had been gazing out the window. He was quick to flop down across the secondary shoulders of the large Reindeer and ruffled the silver fur with his Bat wings as he made himself comfortable.

"Silver's nice and soft, and his coat always keeps him warm even in winter. He really does make a good bed whenever I need a quick nap. Besides, he makes such cute little snoring sounds-"

"Father!"

"Keeheehee, just saying~ (Y/n), you should have seen him when he was just a little wobbly calf. I have some pictures back at Diasomnia I can show you. His legs were so long and he always tripped over them-"

"Father, please."

Lilia's joking helped calm your stress from the situation and also seemed to be helping Grim calm down. The blue-eyed cat-bat finally lifted his head from where he had been hiding his face against your stomach, reaching out a paw to touch the Reindeer's side. He clearly must have liked how warm and soft Silver was as he crawled out of your arms, curling up next to Lilia on Silver's back and snuggling down into the shaggy fur. You almost missed it, but as you looked up at Silver you could see a clear bright pink blush painting his fair cheeks before he looked away.

"It's over. My liege is on his way back."

Sebek said calmly, still looking outside with an almost unreadable expression. The lightning hadn't struck more than once and the thunder quickly quieted down after the first boom that woke you. It was almost like the storm was not actually a storm and you wondered just what it was that caused the lightning or why it was green.

He entered the room silently, only his bright green eyes were visible in the dark of the hallway as if he were wreathed in shadows themselves before he entered the room. Moonlight streamed across his form and he was once again the odd Dragon that had stumbled across you that first day.

"Did I wake you, child of man?"

"The thunder did."

"My apologies."

"Why are you apologizing for thunder? You didn't make it happen... Right?"

Malleus smiled as he returned to the nest, settling by your side and smiling at you patiently. It must not have been raining as he didn't seem to have a drop of water on him. He tilted his head and regarded you affectionately as if he were watching a beloved pet paw at him for attention.

"How little you know... Don't worry, there won't be anymore thunder tonight. I have the feeling that my message was recieved loud and clear."

"Did..." you found it oddly difficult to talk, "did you kill someone?"

Malleus didn't answer you, he just slowly blinked and reached out a clawed hand, patting your head gently. You found yourself wanting a bit more distance from the Dragon, wondering if you made a mistake to ask a question you truly did not want the answer to. As per usual, Lilia was quick to interrupt the tension with a loud yawn and stretch as if to imply you all should return to sleep.

"Here, (Y/n), I'll groom you to sleep again!"

"You really don't have to, Lilia."

"But I want to."

"One of these days I need to talk to everyone about personal space..."

~•§•~

The early morning dawn seemed to be a sleepy one as things slowly emerged from their warm beds and into the brisk morning. The low roll of thunder heard late in the night was certainly not lost on anyone as to the source of the sound. Even the few who rose for an early meeting seemed to be acutely aware of the Dragon's absence.

"Good morning, all. I have called this meeting at the behest of Riddle concerning the most recent events of orientation."

The Headmage stood at the head of the table, his feathers slightly ruffled from sleep as it was still quite early in the day. He usually rose with the sun and clearly had more energy than some of the Housewardens sitting at the table. Leona was barely awake as he lay with his head on the table, only the flicking tail showed the Nemean Lion was even conscious.

"As I am sure you all know by now, we have a Human living in the dorm on the main campus. Unlike most dorms, you do not need to enter a mirror to get to it and so it is easier for outsiders to access. However, there is no other place the Human can stay without putting her at risk of too curious students. Riddle, you told me you had a solution in mind for this?"

Riddle nodded, clearing his throat and straightening his bow.

"(Y/n) is Human and we all understand the gravity of the situation at hand. Humans died out from Twisted Wonderland centuries ago and now one has appeared in our school. It is our duty as Housewardens to assist in the safeguarding of this Human as her survival could mean the beginning of advancements made far beyond our lifetimes and even in our lives now. I'm sure we all understand the importance of keeping her safe. This being said, I am of the mind that it's time to switch out who is safeguarding (Y/n). This should be a shared duty of all the Housewardens, not just a privilege exclusive to Diasomnia."

Crowley nodded, leaning against his hand as he gave the proposition more thought. It seemed several of the other Housewardens were in agreement- at least, those who were physically present- at the idea of a shared responsibility.

"I, for one, think this is a wonderful idea, Riddle. Octavinelle is ready to open our doors to this poor unfortunate soul and keep her safe."

"You aren't usually one to offer help without a price, Azul. What are you looking to get out of this?"

"Nothing, of course! Just looking to help the less fortunate."

"I highly doubt that, Azul."

It was then Vil spoke up, the Harpy regarding the other Housewardens as if assessing them while he spoke. He could raise issue with letting the soft Human stay with any one of these uncouth ruffians.

"I agree that we all need to take turns guarding the Human, but how many of us can honestly be trusted with her? It is clear now that all of Twisted Wonderland will soon know she is here if they don't already. Frankly I wouldn't trust any one of you with her safety. Riddle, what makes you think you should be the one to protect her?"

"W-What?"

"It was one of your dorm's students who decided to post a picture of her. I think your dorm has done enough damage for now. I should think you would agree to revoke your own rights to guard her until you can prove you are able to keep your students in line."

"What is that supposed to mean, Vil?"

"Oh? Do I have to spell it out for you? Usually you're smarter than this, Riddle."

Vil stood, his crest raised and an almost cruel smile curling his lips as he approached the distraught Unicorn. As far as Riddle was concerned, only he knew the rules to taking proper care of a Human so only he could provide adequate accommodations for her. But the way Vil spoke made a dark kind of doubt seep into Riddle's mind, wondering if the Harpy could be right and that alone was an upsetting reality Riddle didn't really want to face at the moment.

"You can't even begin to protect that Human from students in your own dorm, how can you hope protect her from actual threats?"

Riddle wanted to retort or have the grinning Harpy's head but he couldn't find the words to respond to the proud bird. Vil only grinned wider at the silence he was met with before turning to the other Housewardens with that same energy.

"None of you can. Leona shouldn't even be considered given he's a Nemean Lion. Azul will try to make a deal with her. Kalim will lose her within minutes. Idia can't even talk to us let alone talk to and protect her. Really, the only two who could be of any use are Malleus and I. Malleus is genetically wired to be a good guardian and I certainly have enough skill to actually keep her alive."

Crowley considered Vil's words, tilting his head side to side as he thought about what the Harpy said. He was of the mind to just let the Human choose her own guard, but maybe he would have to reconsider that given how upset the Housewardens were getting over her and it had only been two days. There was truth to the unusual charm of the extinct species and the hold they clearly had over others even in such a short time.

"I think you all are ignoring the bigger truth and being selfish as hell."

The growl came from the golden lion that now lifted his head from the table he had been resting it on. His green eyes glinted in the morning light and the faint sunrays seemed to shine off of his golden coat. Even his wild tresses held a faint glimmer that made the prince look every bit as regal as his lineage suggested.

"She isn't from here. She has a home she likely wants to go back to. We can't talk like we're keeping her when we should find a way to send that Mousey home."

"I would agree with you, Leona," Azul started, his eyes glinting with humor at the knowledge he was about to reveal, "but there are a few problems with that notion. Jade and I spoke with her yesterday and she claims she came from somewhere filled with Humans. There is nowhere like that left in Twisted Wonderland. I would wager she is from another reality entirely, one where only Humans thrive. One that we can't get to despite many trying in the past to prove we are not alone. I don't know how she got here, but she is stuck here now. Besides, do you really want to be the one to tell Malleus we are taking his Human away? I get you don't pay attention in classes, but I certainly do and I have heard the many tales of Dragons going as far as to kidnap Humans they are fond of."

Leona growled a low warning to the Cecilia to watch his words lest he be the recieving party of the Lion's ire. Though he was a lazy Lion and didn't seem to be bothered with much, he was still a force to be reckoned with when he actually decided to fight.

"Why the hell should I care why that damn lizzard wants the Human?"

"Well, Dragons and other Fae did take the extinction of Humans the hardest and mourn the longest, I would wager the older ones are still in mourning. Next to them, the Merfolk were the next most heartbroken by the ending of such a fascinating species. I wouldn't expect you to understand- being a Nemean Lion and all- but-"

"Keep talking, Cephalo-punk and I'll give you something to mourn over."

Azul closed his mouth quickly, knowing he wouldn't actually stand a chance if pitted against the weapon-immune golden Lion. For all his abilities, so many seemed to pale in comparison to the sheer strength Leona contained in his form alone. Out of the water, a Lion would always win in a direct fight against an octopus, the same was true for Nemean Lions and Cecilia.

"I can protect her better than most of you but none of you want to admit that. You all want to pretend I'll gobble that little Mousey up and refuse to even let me stand my own ground. What? Too afraid she'll like me more than you lot?"

This got Vil's feathers to ruffle as the Harpy seemed ready to fight the grinning Lion that so clearly challenged those at the table. Luckily for everyone else, the floating tablet finally decided to interrupt the conversation.

"Fine, we all gotta do it. I vote everyone's dorm gets put in a raffle and the next Housewarden to guard her is chosen that way."

"This is unlike you, Idia. You don't even show up in person to most classes."

"Humans were the best inventors we had before they died out. The last human lived on the Isle of Woe and made enough inventions to keep the Shroud family rich for centuries. Why wouldn't I want the best story telling species and most inventive species to give me new ideas? Probably why you want her too, Azul."

"Well, I certainly understand a profitable business venture when one is presented to me..."

"Exactly my point."

Crowley nodded, clapping his hands together and drawing the attention of those at the table. He heard exactly what he wanted to hear and he was willing to give every Housewarden a fair chance, even Leona.

"I believe a raffle is a fantastic idea, Mr. Shroud! And because I am just so kind to all, every Housewarden will be given a fair shot."

"Headmage, I beg you to reconsider-"

"Let's start this raffle!"

Riddle tried to start but the Crow had made up his mind and there was no changing it. As he used magic to summon his usual way of raffling students, he glanced around the room for a moment. Odd, he only counted six but there should be seven?

"... Did no one remember to invite Mr. Draconia to today's meeting?"

~•§•~

You stood in the kitchen of Ramschackle dorms, tiredly cooking up enough breakfast to feed your uninvited guests, Cater, yourself, and Grim. Despite your annoyance at being the only one to cook- let alone being the only one who really knew how- you dutifully continued your task. According to Silver, Lilia actually cooked often but was so abysmally bad at it they all thought cooking was a useless skill. It wasn't until you cooked for them that they even realized cooking food could actually make it taste better and not worse.

"If you all insist on making me cook for you, I'm going to insist you all provide the ingredients. The kitchen may be well stocked now, but if I have to keep feeding extra mouths every day the pantry is going to eventually run out."

You idly listened to the sizzle as you half-jokingly scolded the group that milled about your kitchen and sniffed in your direction occasionally. They were eager to get some breakfast from you and had all woken up before you did in anticipation for the warm meal you would no doubt create. Apparently you had once again moved to cuddle Silver's warm body in your sleep and the Reindeer refused to let Grim or even Lilia wake you before the sun was mostly up. The five others in the shared nest were all in agreement to let you wake on your own time, but your actual invited guest was quick to herald in the morning and woke you. It seemed like Malleus and Sebek were ready to attack the redhead but quickly calmed when you pulled yourself out of the nest to start cooking.

Cater had been an affectionate nuisance and asked you nonstop questions about what you were doing and how Humans cooked things. It became very clear to you- based on his questions and curiosity- that junkfood really didn't exist in Twisted Wonderland. Despite how you wanted to cry upon hearing this and mourn the loss of your comfort foods, you realized that you may be able to make your own junkfoods. You would certainly need help acquiring things, but there had to be some kind of inventive monster on this campus that could help you.

"I agree! These guys can bring the food and you can cook it! Why let them get all this free stuff if they don't help with getting or making it?"

"I can help cook-"

You were quick to smack the reaching hand with your wooden spoon, startling Lilia as his wings fluffed out in surprise.

"You," you started with a near threatening tone, "will keep your hands off of the things in my kitchen. Silver already told me how your cooking is and I will not allow you to scorch my meals."

"I think I'm a pretty good cook-"

"The answer is 'no'. You don't get to cook in my kitchen. I agree with Grim that it would be a welcome change to have you all bring me the foods you want and maybe even more spices than the few I have here, but you aren't cooking. If you really want to help me right now, you can start washing dishes."

Silver sent a silent thanks your way for sparing him and the others from another evening spent eating Lilia's cooking. The Bat Fae had learned to love cooking from the few Humans he had the pleasure of meeting, but he was so abysmally bad at it that his 'meals' could barely be considered food. Malleus and Sebek were also relieved to see you quickly shut down any idea of letting Lilia cook and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"I can do dishes! Riddle and Trey make me do them all the time. Don't know why Trey never lets me help him bake things though."

Cater was quick to roll up his sleeves, starting on the pile of dishes that had already begun to accumulate in the large sink. Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad if you could get your freeloaders to help clean or gather ingredients instead of doing it all yourself. Despite calling them freeloaders, you were appreciative of at least Malleus and Lilia being fairly adept guards for your safety. It did make you wonder what Malleus had done last night, but you also felt in your heart of hearts that you didn't really want to know if the lovely Dragon had killed someone on your behalf.

"Hey," there was loud scratching at that side door again and you already knew who it was, "the door's locked again. Please, have mercy, I'm just a starving Gnoll."

"... I really shouldn't have fed him. He's gonna come back every day and night for more."

You had the foresight to add extra to what you were making, anticipating the unusual pull your cooking seemed to have on the local monster population. Part of you wanted to keep feeding Ruggie as the gaunt appearance of the ever hungry Gnoll pulled at your heartstrings. His clear hunger and almost non-existent stomach told you just how little the Hyena man actually ate and it genuinely saddened you to know he was likely actually starving.

"Lilia, can you get the door?"

"On it~"

Ruggie was quick to scamper up to your side and sniff loudly at the food you were cooking. His tail wagged at almost impossible speeds as his stomach howled to be satiated, his Hyena head bobbing up and down when he began to cackle in excitement. Despite the warnings you had received about Gnolls, Ruggie didn't act like a slavering beast that sought Human flesh, instead he seemed much like someone who grew up never knowing when he could eat again or if he would be safe in the night. He reminded you so much of that first good look you got at Grim, covered in all the scars that riddled his little body and marred his cute appearance with tales of agony sustained. Both of them made you want to protect them however you could.

As you moved over to another pan which you had been using to cook up some scrambled eggs, you couldn't help but chuckle when Ruggie continued to vocalize his excitement. The cackling and whooping from the Hyena was almost a comforting song in the background of your morning. It was only when he reached a grizzled paw towards the pans that you barked out a similar whoop at him. Your sound startled the Gnoll as his gaze snapped to you in surprise, his nose working overtime as if to find the fellow Gnoll that whooped in response to his sounds.

"Woah! You didn't say you knew how to speak Gnoll!"

"I don't."

"What was that then?"

"Where I'm from, Humans are typically quite good at vocal mimicry because it is how most of our infants learn to speak. You were whooping, so I whooped back."

Ruggie cocked his head to the side curiously, you could almost see the gears in his head turning and grinding as he took in your words. His short tail had been still as he lost himself in thought before it resumed the rapid wagging pace as his brain caught back up to the rest of him.

"Cool! What other sounds can you make?"

The rest of your time cooking was spent making various noises- from growls, to cackles, even to various barking- to entertain the Gnoll and distract him from the food. Once it was ready, you had Sebek get enough plates for the eight of you and set to divvying up the meals. Naturally, Ruggie and Grim were the first to happily dig in to their breakfasts.

Things were peaceful and somewhat quiet, but as it usually was in this strange new world, things were not going to stay quiet for long.

"(Y/n)," a familiar voice called from the direction of the door to your dorms, recognizing the voice of the Headmage Crow, "I have news and a gift for you, my little chick! Where are you?"

"We're in the kitchen!"

The Headmage was surprised to see the odd group you had gathered in your kitchen, looking over the various students in surprise.

"Mr. Diamond? What are you doing here?"

"I told Cater he could stay here for the night since he was kicked out of his dorm. Sure, what he did was stupid and I am still mad about it, but no one should have to spend a night in those woods. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something terrible happened to him, especially in the name of protecting me."

"It's beautiful," the Crow sniffed as if he were about to cry, "such a heartwarming display of genuine kindness! I would expect nothing less from the beautiful heart of a Human! I've missed you wonderfully naïve and forgiving little creatures so much! Nothing quite like a Human's forgiveness to soothe the turbulent soul!"

You were stunned when the Crow actually burst into tears, covering his face with his hands and openly weeping from your- in your mind- simple act of kindness. It seemed the others weren't prepared for this behavior either as they all stared at the fully grown Crow Fae man weeping and bawling like an infant. He was quick to compose himself despite the sudden onslaught of tears as he pulled you into a hug you were too surprised to return, wondering what his problem was that he was so ready to emotionally break down in front of you.

"My beautiful little chick is the kindest soul to ever live and grace these halls with such a warm heart!"

"Um..."

"Here," he interrupted your confusion and pulled back to shove a hastily wrapped package into your hands, "A gift from your professors! It's a cellular device to let you communicate with us when you need. Sam assures me Idia has already programed our numbers into it and it is ready to be used whenever you wish."

"Thanks? Why-"

"Also! The other Housewardens and I have come to an agreement concerning your continued need for guards due to Mr. Diamond's actions. All Housewardens and their accompanying Vice-Housewardens will contribute to protecting this dorm and will switch out every week based on a raffle. This week is Diasomnia's turn, next week is Ignihyde's turn. You haven't met Idia or Ortho yet, but they'll be by to introduce themselves soon. Well, Ortho probably will be, Idia is excited to meet you but he isn't one to socialize much..."

A deep snarl came from where Malleus stood, casually setting his plate down to face the Crow directly and continue the deep percussive noise of his displeasure. It was more than obvious to everyone that the Dragon was not content with the idea of giving you up even for others to guard.

"You dare divvy up my hoard like I should have no say in what happens to her? My Human is not a pet to trade with anyone and everyone who takes interest."

"I'm not saying that, Malleus, what I am saying is her protection should be taken seriously by all students at Night Raven College and the best way to show others she is worth defending is to allow them time to form their own bonds with her by protecting her. Besides, Diasomnia needs their Housewarden and Vice-Housewarden. It isn't fair to those students to be left without yourself and Mr. Vanrouge permanently."

Malleus just growled in response, knowing Crowley was right but still furious he was not part of the decision making process.

"And Kingscholar? What of his dorm?"

"Mr. Kingscholar is a Housewarden and has made a convincing argument for allowing himself to be one of (Y/n)'s guards. As Savanaclaw has no Vice-Housewarden, it will soley fall on his shoulders when his name is drawn."

Ruggie then spoke up, trying to give yourself and Malleus a wide berth to not upset the Dragon further. Though the Gnoll was quick to fold to more powerful mages, he was excited to hear Leona would be given a chance and equal respect as a Housewarden.

"If Leona actually asked to help, no way he will let anyone tell him no. He doesn't like doing extra work, so the fact he volunteered for extra work shows he actually means to do it!"

"Exactly my thinking! Why deny such a strong student a chance to prove himself? Who knows, perhaps his time with (Y/n) will prove Nemean Lions do not deserve the negative view society has of them."

You were irritated that none of these men bothered to ask you how you feel about the situation, but if the nighttime interruptions were anything to go off of, you were still in danger. Though the prospect of being bounced around between several monster men didn't excite you, there was obviously need for their protective behavior.

"Now, I hope you all enjoy your classes today. I hear there may even be an unbirthday party happening in Heartslabuyl that you may wish to attend. Have a pleasant morning, my little chick."

[ranticore]

so what exactly is a 'crawling beast of the earth' and why did harpies have to develop such extreme modifications just to defend against them?

nobody really knows what the crawling beasts are except the wyrms, and they're not telling anyone. the beasts take many forms but commonly they are eyeless and worm-like with large jaws but no mouths. they do not eat, they show no signs of intelligence, and it seems that all they do is crawl and bite. their bodies have a high heavy metal content and by their very presence they leach toxic waste into the earth around their burrows that destroys organic life. although nobody really knows what they are or where they came from, it's universally acknowledged that crawling beasts are not monsters or natural animals. monsters - not animals - are able to physically touch a crawling beast without being poisoned and you can kill one by ripping it to shreds, but the easiest way to kill one is to throw their bodies on a pyre.

in terms of behaviour they seem to show no response to injury or environmental stimulus but always crawl or burrow towards the highest concentration of large living creatures they can sense (through means unknown). if one gets within biting distance they will bite.. even if there's a layer of topsoil between you and them. they do not notice others of their own kind and can mindlessly form huge aggregations underneath villages or settlements, fouling one another until eventually the sheer volume and mass of the pile-up spills onto the surface.

the purpose of the beasties, in this setting, is to provide a common enemy that can be a catalyst for human and monster cooperation. they're kind of a macguffin that makes everything else happen, but i like them because they're undefined and terrifying for everybody. one big crawler will destroy a field of crops in one night and make the soil barren, and that can be the difference between making it through the winter and starving, in a small village. crawlers are the reason flighted harpies fear touching the ground. the whole land is infested with them (the sea, too) and their numbers are only growing.

for most harpies, attaining the size and strength (and talons) necessary to fight a crawling beast would reduce their ability to neatly and accurately forage or hunt their normal animal prey. so instead of everyone developing this weaponry, instead only one guy in a flock does, and thereafter he's the flock's bodyguard. kings suck at hunting and foraging. because even regular eagle harpies are naturally pretty big and pointy, they are the first choice for human falconers who want a partner who can swoop down, snatch up a crawling beast, and drop it on a fire. solitary monsters fare the best here since they usually don't attract any crawling beasties, except when they're pressganged by humans (or other monsters) into helping the general pest control effort.

only wyrms are known to hunt and eat crawling beasts.

[enterrandomname]

Warriors

Ares x Child of Ares!Reader

Warning: OOC Ares(?)

A/N: I do apologize if requests are slower than usual! I have exams coming up, but further than that I hope you enjoy this! And I can’t make promises on when I’ll start on them. But you may send requests as much as you like ^^

Word Count: 1k

⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

Ares, the God of War, never had time to ‘play around’ with his children. Yes, he claims them as his own, but what would you expect from a god? Almost all the gods could care less about their children. They would be born just to fear for their lives, as disgusting creatures hunted them down like animals.

You found it strange how your father often visits you while you’re on a quest. This was an unexpected change from God. Had you finally gotten his recognition? Had he finally decided that you were worthy of his time?

“I don’t want any excuses, child!” His voice boomed through the training area.

You wouldn’t even call it a training area; all that was there were trees and a drawing of a circle that was to resemble an arena. You could see his eyes glow beneath his glasses, with flames dancing around them.

The God of War stared at you, a shiver running down your spine as you tried to steady your breathing after a grueling combat session. Blood slowly dripped down your face, a reminder of you failing to protect your face from your father's attacks. He never said he was going to go tough on you.

Ares scoffed, the air crackling with tension. “Training? You call that training?” He rolled his eyes(?), arms crossed in front of his chest, as he stood with pride. “What we did there was real training, child of mine.”

“You carry the blood of warriors, yet you fight like a novice.” He added more salt to the wound, as if that wouldn’t lower your self-esteem even lower. “Pick up your sword.”

It wasn’t an order; it was a command. He was commanding you to do it. And like the good child you are, you did what he said.

With a nod, you hastily grabbed the sword before looking back at God, who impatiently waited, tapping his leather shoe against the ground. “Can’t we do this another time?” You tried to reason with him. Your body was exhausted and needed a break from his tough training. This wasn’t like the training back at Camp Half-Blood.

“Would you rather spend your whole life being chased around by Harpies with zero experience in fighting?” He growled, making his way toward you. You could never tell what he was feeling due to those pesky sunglasses. If he was trying to get you to be afraid, well, he was doing a good job at that.

You could practically feel the ground shake with every step he took as he advanced towards you. Surely he wouldn’t dare to hurt one of his children again, right? You failed to notice how the blood had somehow disappeared, only leaving a scar on your cheek.

The flames behind his sunglasses flickered with anger. “Well?” said he, waiting for your response. The God of War never liked to wait, but it seemed like you were an exception. “No… father.” Lowering your head in despair. Had all of your hopes and dreams gone to waste? Why was it so hard to please your father? Numorous, unanswered questions clouded your mind.

You looked up in confusion once you felt a hand on your head. What was this, you thought. A smirk made its way to God’s face as he saw your bewildered look. Was this the way he shows his affection for his children? You couldn't help but smile at the God of War, feeling a little bit of pride come back to you.

“Don’t tell the others, yeah? Keep this a secret between the two of us. I’ll get you whatever you want if it keeps your mouth shut, little one.”

The flames in his eye sockets seemed to have calmed down as you watched them faintly glow.

Little one? Was your brain playing tricks on you, or was this all but a dream? Ares, God of War, giving you a nickname? You had to cherish this moment. Who knew it took this long for Ares to warm up to one of his children? Certainly, you didn't.

The god sighed before he kneeled down. He, ever so gently, placed his hand on your arm, a warm sensation spreading throughout your body. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright? Don’t go around thinking’ you can destroy whatever beast is out there,” said Ares.

Is this what it feels like to be loved by your father?

“You are still human, not a god. You’re not immortal like us.” Oh, to see the look on your siblings's faces once they find out where you've been this entire time. The perks of being the favorite, I guess!

“Why are you telling me this?" You couldn’t help but ask, staring into your father’s shades as he awkwardly rubbed your arm. His touch was… warm and fatherly, something you couldn't even describe.

He raised an eyebrow, baffled by the sudden question. “Well, squirt, despite this chaotic world we are forced to live in, I still... care for my children.” He placed his finger on your lips, silencing you from asking more questions. You silently glared at him as you thought about biting your father’s finger.

It wasn't like you were going to be rambling over how he hadn't been there for you a single time in your life!

Well, it was fun while it lasted. If only these moments could happen every once a week rather than once a month.

The God then shook his head. “We are wasting time.” Standing back up before he lifted you up from the back of your shirt. It was like you were a five-year-old all over again. You hadn't realized that your idol was a god this entire time.

“Pay attention, because I’m not going to repeat myself twice,” said Ares, confidently making his way to the opposite side of the said arena. “The first rule is to never show any weakness to your enemy. They could use that to their advantage. Now, shall we begin?”

With a simple nod, Ares smirked once again, his heart slowly beginning to warm up.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Courtship Confusion: Part 2

You’ve been working with your siren partner for a couple years now. A consummate flirt, you’d initially been put off by his whole charming deal, somehow he’s become your best friend. You’ve been wanting to see if he’s still interested in dating, but unfortunately he’s not picking up your hints. A pair of visiting cubi remind you of the cultural differences that come with interspecies dating. Maybe you’ve both been misunderstanding each other. Maybe it’s time you set the record straight.

Modern Fantasy, friends to lovers, siren/harpy, male monster x reader, Part 2 of 8

AO3: Courtship Confusion Chapter 2

[Part One] Part Two

One of the witches tries to clap now that Morgan’s song is over and looks down, befuddled at her cuffed hands. Some of the others are coming down faster, struggling with their cuffs and cursing out the officers—luckily with only words and not hexes.

Morgan smirks down at the formerly ensnared before removing himself from their sight. He alights to the ground at the back of his makeshift stage, his wings gentling his fall. He’s so effortlessly graceful it makes your teeth ache.

With your own practiced movement, you look away long enough to get your bearings while he strides over, going in a wide circle to put some distance between himself and the witches.

“Good job,” you say, because it was. You remember how these types of operations used to go. How much more dangerous and less successful they were without Morgan’s skills. “NIA snagged two, but we got the rest.”

“Wonderful,” Morgan replies, clearly satisfied with a successful hunt. His distance from those formerly bewitched is two fold. Firstly to help them calm down, away from his influence, but also to help calm his own prey instincts. There have only been one or two instances where the person you were attempting to stop was powerful enough to prove to be a valid threat even after Morgan sang. Morgan preferred to set people at ease around him, but he could disregard such tendencies when he needed to without a second thought. Sirens’ merciless reputation was not unearned. 

He was beautiful then too. That was when you first realized that perhaps your feelings for him had changed, from platonic to something else. And by then, it was already too late.

His ruffling of his own feathers as he adjusted his wings’ position on his back drew your attention. Your hands itched to help preen him, but you knew how sensitive he was about that. He’d only let you do more than fix a feather once or twice and even then only after they had been seriously messed up and in private.

You track his gaze and see the senior officer wave Morgan over. Evidently enough time had passed that they believed Morgan’s presence would be more help than hindrance.

You look back up at Morgan, to see if that's the case for him as well. He turns to you and seems surprised you’re already looking at him. He smiles a pleased but lazy smile, hands slipping into his pockets. “Be right back,” Morgan reassures you, answering your unasked questions. He starts to hum something calming in the back of his throat as he ambles over to the cuffed witches.

You wave him off as you start packing up your equipment. Why is it these things always take so much longer to put away than to take out? 

You’re nearly done when someone else, not Morgan, interrupts. “A siren, ay?” You look up to see a pair of the NIA agents approaching. You don’t remember them from the briefings earlier but NIA had brought in some additional field agents to help too. “Rare to have one this far from the waters.”

You shrug. People like to point out how odd it is for a siren to be landlocked, but what can you say to that except confirm that Morgan lives here? He’d only lived by the water when he was a little kid. “Suppose. Everyone lives pretty much everywhere these days.”

“That’s true enough. It was a wonderful performance,” the second of these two agents adds, just in time for Morgan to join you. Both agents are in nice suits, looking more like actresses than agents. You feel scruffy in comparison and resist the urge to fix your hair which you know the headphones from earlier must have messed up. The first agent’s dark hair looks artfully tousled by the wind while the second’s short, lighter hair looks as if it's as perfectly styled as it had been when she left the house.

Unfair. You almost hope they’re cubi or vamps or something to explain their supernaturally beautiful appearance.

“Why thank you,” Morgan says, as he walks over just in time to be complimented. He’s clearly unintimidated by their poise—likely because he’s managing to look as good if not better than them. “I’m always happy when my talents lend themselves to our work.”

“You just like to sing on company time,” you tease, looking for some familiar ground to regain your footing. You weren’t usually this insecure, but your nerves always acted up after the adrenaline wore off. You preferred to get anxious now rather than before, but neither was pleasant. 

He grins and adjusts his lapels. “As I said.”

“I’ve never seen a siren work so precisely,” the older agent comments, eying Morgan with speculative interest. You hate the jealousy and protectiveness that flares up in you with that look. She’s certainly his type: attractive and interested in him. She looks between the two of you and perhaps you should feel flattered not to have been forgotten, but it just barely helps you push your unreasonable feelings to the side. “You certainly seem to have this routine of yours down pat.”

Before either of you could respond, the second agent adds, “We were skeptical when your office offered to help, but we’ve never had such a clean capture.” 

“Thanks,” you reply. She said it like a compliment but it feels backhanded to you, though perhaps unintentionally. The traditional ‘local vs national’ rivalry has you inclined to hear an implication that a local office might have nothing to offer, but maybe you’re just reading into things. They lack some of the arrogance and condescension the national agents often had. The kind that makes you grit your teeth and forcibly redirect Morgan before he says something too honest, even if you agree with him.

“We were happy to be of service,” Morgan replies, an edge to some of his charm. “This is our specialty, mine and my partner’s, I mean. You’ll not find any better.”

If the brag comes across as self-agrandizing, they don't seem to mind. “So it would seem,” the senior agent says, leaning forward with interest. “Would—”

“Riding out!” One of the other officers calls out, the signal for everyone not a tech inventorying the warehouse for further evidence to move back to the precinct. 

“We should regroup back at base,” the second agent says. You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow in surprise, so they actually had something they wanted to talk to you about? You’d been chalking up their idle chatter as looking for someone remotely interesting to linger near until everyone left—which Morgan definitely was, even if you weren’t.

“Aye, aye,” Morgan replies with a tease before turning his back on them completely. Likely reminding them that they have no actual authority over the two of you. You press your lips together to suppress your smile. “Your arms look full, why don’t you hand me the keys?”

“Not on your life.” You don’t even entertain the possibility, despite how unwieldy the duffel bags you’ve got are. “You haven’t renewed your license yet for a squad car.”

“Semantics,” Morgan scoffs as he falls in step next to you. You figure the agents will go their own way now and track you down back at the office, if they’re even still interested. Instead they fall in step a couple paces behind you, talking to each other but clearly following you and Morgan. 

“Rules,” you reply automatically. There’s no sense in speculating on their motives with so little information, so you do your best to ignore the agents. Maybe their care was just also parked out by this entrance. “Here.” You hand him one of the bags of equipment. “Since you wanted to help and were so concerned about my arms.”

“But Inspector,” Morgan whines even as he easily takes the weight, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “It’s not my fault that I rarely need to drive.” He puffs up his wings for emphasis, drawing attention to their sleek appearance.

You’ve got plenty of practice keeping focus even with him showing off his assets. “But you still need the license when you do, no matter your ‘natural advantages’.”

“I have a typical license,” he grumbles, giving up once he can see you’re not budging. “It’s not my fault they require a separate one for our vehicles and that they changed the rules after the Buzzar incident. How was I supposed to know?”

“Because you were there when it happened?” you point out. 

“Yes, and I would never do such a thing.” Morgan says, but you just raise an eyebrow. He’s damaged squad cars doing stunts before. He purposely ignores you as he continues, “And I certainly don’t see why it had to be memorialized on the exam.”

“Doesn’t matter and no amount of whining now is gonna change anything,” you reiterate with a smirk. You jingle the keys in your hand. Truthfully, you’d be driving regardless since you’re the senior inspector, but it’s fun to have a reason to tease him about. You only let Morgan drive in extreme circumstances anyways. “I’m still driving.”

Morgan pouts as he opens the trunk to drop in his bag, taking yours from you wordlessly. Before he can try to convince you again to let him drive, the senior NIA agent speaks up, “We’ll see you there.” The second agent waves as they head over to the sleek black car with the NIA logo on it parked only a few yards away.

“Why do we have to drive this old clunker when they have that?” Morgan grumbles.

“Because we have a fourth of their budget,” you reply with a snort. “Come one, get in.”

[comfortless]

*ೃ༄ Some thoughts on a lighthouse keeper König with a fem, harpy reader! 18+ MDNI.

Signing away months of your life for routinized labor comes with little internal protests for him, he’s done it before with military work. He’ll do it again without question; anything, anyplace to keep him away from a house that’s never felt like home.

König’s blessed with an abundance of skills and the strength to perform hard labor. He’s disciplined enough to embrace the solitude, maybe even thinks of this contract as a reprieve from other people, from creature comforts and the hustle and bustle of ordinary life.

He packs only the bare minimum for himself— clothing he doesn’t mind lantern oil spilling onto, thick books ranging from myth to histories, a trusty hunting knife he’s been keening for the time to polish and sharpen to bring back to its former glory. Food and shelter are already provided for him in a cabin battered by sea breeze and saltwater just a bit too small for a man his size mere paces from the pillar of light that he’s resigned himself to tend to.

Each day is spent checking systems, keeping the haunting yellow light clean and functioning well, jotting down weather readings, and meticulously keeping things orderly. The occasional sound of a boat’s horn would bellow out, as close to a voice calling it’s thanks as it could get from his self-sought isolation. The ocean is lively enough for him, anyhow. The sight of a whale a short distance off shore isn’t an uncommon one, pods of dolphins flipping up into the air like performers, a show just for him. Even the sky above is a sight with flocks of birds he could not name passing by, or sea gulls flying high above only to ground themselves on the rocky shore to cock their heads at him; he imagines that if they could speak their small, shrill voices would ask him ‘What are you doing here?’, and he’s thankful he would never have to answer.

Each night, he reads. The bed is a bit small for him, a cot, really. He has to curl in a way that makes him feel like a dog left to waste away outside, knees nearly tucked to his chest and an elbow propped to keep his head up while he turns to pages of his books. He always wakes to his head resting on a page, the scents of old ink, amber and cedar fill his nose when his eyes flutter open.

He makes himself simple breakfasts, the scent of black coffee lingers throughout the cabin each morning. Occasionally it’s bacon, occasionally eggs in a basket, something as simple as his life has become. He thinks about his days of war when he walks to the shore with his mug in hand, wistfully watching the waves, haunted and volatile, so very much like the ocean of his eyes.

It’s never quiet. The gulls call from above, their wings outstretched as they sail through the air, and the waves make raucous noise as they crash against the rock, wearing down every fine point to something softer. A part of him longs to be worn down too, to pry that aching from his heart, the scars tarnishing his body, the callouses on his hands, dissolve them all in dark, salty waters with a gentle ebb and flow. He’s never thought himself to be one deserving of gentle things, but he greedily yearns for them anyhow.

He admires the sea shells that wash up on the sandy patches of the shoreline, some are pearlescent and untarnished, he dares not touch those. The ugly ones with splintering cracks remind him of himself, he’ll allow his hand to reach for those, toss them back into the hellish abyss where they belong. He doesn’t need a reminder of what he is, why he’s here. He wants to surround himself in pretty things that no one can dirty with their fingerprints, not even himself.

A torrential rain breaks up the monotony of his duty for a few days. He’s soaked to the bare bones running back and forth from the cabin to keep the light functioning, wiping away condensation from the glass that confines it and fiddling with the old machinery to stop the massive light from flickering. He holes himself up there, in that old tower for two long, sleepless nights. He imagines ghosts, ghosts of the people he’s killed without remorse dancing at the corner of his vision, taunting him endlessly from purgatory with their frantic dances and unnatural jolts. When he turns his head, their faces are gone, carried away by the ocean breeze that rattled the walls of the lighthouse, yet can not touch him.

He’s hardly able to keep himself upright when the rain finally stops. Addled from a lack of sleep and an ache from hunger, he slinks down the steps to the wet ground outside. There are no gulls fluttering about with their squeals and questions and begging, and for the first time since he’s come here, the water is calm. The sun beams down from a cerulean sky, not a single cloud fattened and gray with rain water in sight.

Only a bird.

König’s taken note of the wildlife since he’s come, all of the sea creatures that would swim about, the pelicans, petrels and gulls that would make their rounds. He’s never once seen a bird this big. It’s wings stretch wide, gracefully flutter to soar higher only to rear back, knees kicked up to its chest in its graceful descent. It doesn’t ground itself to beg him for a crumb of toast or shriek at him, it only perches atop the lighthouse, looking down at him as if exacting some strange, silent retribution.

The bird shifts in place for a moment as his eyes squint to get a better view of it. He’s mesmerized when he takes note of a very human face, soft nude flesh in place of feathers right down to the ankles that house plush, downy feathers and the coarse skin of scales leading down to brutal, curved talons. Her breasts heave and legs tense as she stretches her wings out to take flight. With a single leap she takes back to the air, twirls in it effortlessly as if she’s in the midst of the most elegant, seraphic dance to return to whichever whisper of heaven she descended from.

The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

The salt and foam must play their tricks, because he’s no where near deluded enough to believe he’s seen an angel in a place like this, that one would think to visit him at all.

Still, he’s an awful bastard, because his cock twitches in demand from the sheer sight of her flying far, far away from him. He doesn’t allow himself to touch pretty things, but god he wants to touch you. He settles for returning to his cot and tugging down the zipper of his pants to rest his length in his hand, slow, deliberate strokes with his eyes closed, bringing himself to ruin from just a fleeting memory.

He chalks it up to sleep deprivation the next morning, a waking wet dream. Even before coming to this little island, it had been well over a year since he had been in the presence of a nude woman. Work quickly makes him forget, keeps his hands tied and his mind emptied of softer flesh and beautiful skies.

She comes back with the next storm, a shivering mess in the rain. A rough gale struck her down and he watched her spin out amongst thick, wet clouds, her form aglow with the backdrop of thunder. She falls to briny water, and without thought he’s left his cabin to dive right in after her, scooping the poor thing up to haul her back to the safety of a warm home, a roof above her head.

König wraps her in the only blanket that he has, feels her gaze on his back while he stokes a fire all for her as she sits and shivers, trying to gather her bearings. Human kindness is unexpected, unwarranted, really. She signals great storms, her talons cruel. He looks at her in awe when she nestles against his shoulder, her eyes locked to his, both faces warmed by the glow of crackling flames and comfort.

He tells her he isn’t worthy of an angel wasting her grace on him. She tells him that nothing sent barreling out of the sky like she had could be as pure as he believes.

[r0b0s-robos]

DCA HARPY AU

FLIGHTLESS

PLOT |

• Reader was once a harpy, bonded for life to Sun and Moon. Reader dies unexpectedly by a dragon and gets reborn as a human (100-ish years later) in a village quite a distance away.

• Reader grows up to be the village trader. They go out on behalf of the village to trade goods and bring new things like magical items to the small village. They also love to draw and while drawing they see a harpy nest that *looks* abandoned and starts to draw it because harpies are relatively rare to encounter.

• They know that it's said that harpies are the most vicious mythical creature that live near the village. Unlike a dragon, who will give its prey a quick and painless death, harpies often eat their prey while it's still alive, warm, and conscious.

About Sun & Moon:

• Sun has been grieving your loss since the day you first died. He always looks sad and has unkempt feathers. Despite his appearance, he honestly is fairing much better than Moon.

• Moon is inconsolable. He spends most days in the nest surrounded by what was once your feathers. While Sun often finds energy to hunt, Moon only eats when pestered enough.

• Sun and Moon find out that Reader died by a dragon. A storm kept Reader from returning to the nest and instead found safety from the storm in a cave. The dragon that lived there was incredibly hungry and territorial.

• Sun and Moon do what any grieving harpy would. They slay the dragon viciously, digging into it as it still breathes. The rage and heartache feels as though it will be everlasting and this is the only immediate cure. (When ur a human you find their nest is still adorned with bones of a large beast).

• Moon would be based off a screech owl and harpy eagle, Sun either a crowned eagle or a mix of golden eagle and harpy eagle

• Upon meeting, Sun especially is very clingy. he believes full-heartedly that you are the one that they lost. Moon does as well, but you are so, so very fragile now. You are so delicate. (To them, at least. To you and ur village ur pretty much a badass lmao). But he can't allow himself to be close only to lose you again. His resolve doesn't last long.

About Reader:

• Reader is well-respected in their village by all except a few handfuls of older members who dislike the magical forest where Reader lives. (The village itself was attacked by harpies 100 years prior. May or may not have smth to do w/ Sun and Moon).

• Reader’s home is kind of like a homestead. But since its in the magical forest they had to make it a treehouse to avoid ground predators during the night. It’s very nice and everything is mostly made by them. They possess some magic, but they only really use it for cooking or protection.

• I imagine that when they meet Sun and Moon (and after the relationship has developed a bit. At least past them, fearing that they’ll be harmed). That they allow Sun and Moon to build some nest in the rafters of their house.

Scenes:

• Sun feeling particularly guilty because he looked so unkempt for your reunion. He apologizes the best way he knows how. But you don't speak the same language. And all you know is that he's upset that he's dirty. So you take him to a waterfall and clean his feathers. Your fingers running along his back as you dislodge sticks and leaves. He helps where he can, but mostly he sinks into the water and just pleads for this to not be a dream.

• Moon would have a similar situation with the reader. Tho his involves his attempts at gifting them things. Food at first. Then anything that shines or sparkles. He creates necklaces of jewels that rival those found on the rich upper-class of the inner kingdom. Reader appreciate the gifts, but cannot wear the jewelry because it would cause others to ask questions or attempt to rob them when they travel. Moon and Sun initially believe it is because you find none of their gifts good enough to adorn upon yourself. Moon grieves all over again. You comfort him, and give him a gift of your own. A ribbon, endowed with protection to wear around his ankle. (You give this to Sun, as well ofc).

Funny thought to end my rambling on:

• Imagine Reader trying to sleep but they keep hearing knocking and skittering on their roof and when they look outside the window they just see a pair of giant red owl eyes. At first they would be scared. But after two weeks they start ignoring the knocking and tapping around their house so they can just (attempt) to get a good night's rest w/o the inescapable “bird cuddle pile” and since the harpies feathers are insulated, poor reader always feels a little cooked at night.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Okay so. What if... An exorcist's halo protects them from whatever hell does to make sinners into their weird demon shapes. And hell has a very *interesting side effect on exorcists without their halo*.

So like

Charlie takes Vaggie home to heal, and while at first she's recovering... she starts feeling *off*. Like this bonedeep discomfort and ache in her muscles

Her senses feeling adjitated and overly sensitive

Her instincts getting set on edge

That itch to fight

And then one night

Charlie hears vaggie screaming

Vaggie only has a vague recollection of what happened that night.

Her body feeling like it was trying to twist itself apart. Almost like when lute tore off her wings...

And then suddenly everything was *loud*, her senses on overload.

Meanwhile charlie... *got chased by vaggie around the house*

She may not have her wings

But her body was *covered* in feathers, her teeth growing into fangs, and her lone eye taking on the look of a bird of prey.

Her hands grew into talons, and the senses she already had as an exorcist ran *wild*

(Thinking exorcists already have some predatory senses like having a strong sense of smell. Meant specifically for being able to sniff out wounded sinners)

Charlie managed to keep vaggie from hurting her or anyone else

Meanwhile vaggie... opened up her injuries while wrestling with charlie.

When she finally changed back, she was very sore, and very very confused

And charlie, not really knowing any better, just thinks this is the type of sinner vaggie is.

So they just sort of slowly figure things out. By the time the hotel opens, charlie and vaggie have a regular routine. As far as the hazbins are concerned, vaggie takes some time for herself every so often. The only person visiting her being charlie. (Charlie figured out real quick that were-vaggie seems to enjoy having a 'nest' in their suite. It helps keep her calm, even to the point she can cuddle with her big bird of prey).

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

she likes having a NEST in their room ;m;

HEY. HEYYYYYY!!!!! WERE HARPY VAGGIE BC OF NO HALO LIKE SOME KINDA HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE SHIT AND CHARLIE'S JUST LIKE "oh ok so we need to start marking this in the calendar" THE HAZBINS ARE LIKE "wow they get loud sometimes~" AND VAGGIE. Vaggie... would she have any idea what was happening? WHY it was happening?? does she KNOW fully what's going on or is Charlie skipping some details bc to Charlie they're not that big a deal (sinner trying to kill her, the princess of hell. that's cute) and not upsetting Vaggie is more important HRRRGHGHHG FLOOFY FEATHERY TALONED VAGGIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

ok. calmer now. but listen i love it i love having a way to wiggle feathery burd of prey Vaggie into being as a REVEAL of the exorcist's true selves hidden by the halos-

AND THAT YES SHE SCARY AND DANGROUS AND YES SHE HAS THE URGE TO MINDLESSLY HUNT HUNT ATTACK ATTACK

but.... she can feel calm, even in harpy mode....if she's helped to feel safe. If she's snuggled in a nest by Charlie,

rrrrrghghgh is she a monster made to hurt or is she alone and grounded in a place that feels like danger. maybe being in Hell fires off all her exorcists instincts and burns her for the need for sinner blood and the feel of rending flesh with talons, or maybe being in Hell without her Flock scares the shit out of her harpy brain- until even her harpy self gets so used to Charlie being around and Charlie being safe that it wakes up one day and DOESN'T feel alone anymore

ANYwAY THANK YOU FOR MAKING IT A POST I HAVE HAVE ON MY BLOG NOW HRGGGAHHHHH

[alexwritingspot]

Request from @isabelboo :oml i had like the worst dream last night so i would love that flufftober of percy jackson and prompt #2 🥹

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Nightmares’ comfort

When during the night nightmare hunts you in your dreams you find comfort in the arms of your boyfriend.

prompt 2: “Shh… it was just a nightmare”

warnings: mention of panic, nightmares

pairing: Percy Jackson x gn!reader

A/n: hi love, hope you feel better! And I also hope this fic will bring you comfort, I shaped this as a demigod nightmare so it could make sense in the plot, stay safe! 🧡

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Being a demigod sucked, you had always something to do for the gods, you could easily die in a horrible way, you saw your friends and half-siblings die every day, and you were haunted by monsters day and night. However monsters weren’t the only things that haunted demigods, the worst part of this kind of life were the nightmares that plagued your dreams.

After having a rather amusing campfire with the rest of the camp you headed to the Poseidon cabin with your boyfriend to get some nice and refreshing sleep. Your muscles were sore from the early morning training, and even if you and Percy weren’t technically allowed alone in the same cabin, even worse sleeping together, everyone at camp closed an eye after all that the two of you had been through.

Percy had his arm around your shoulder as you walked to the cabin “Today the food was better than usual, have you noticed?” He then asked you “Yeah, maybe the nymphs understood that putting the water of the lake in the soups isn’t the best choice” you joked, and the both of you laughed together. You enjoyed moments like this, where the only problem was if dinner had been good enough, or if the stars were clear in the sky.

Once you arrived at Percy’s cabin you changed into the spare clothes that you had left in his cabin for times like this, you quickly brushed you teeth and then lied on the bed near Percy. He wrapped his arms around your waist, (like he always did when you were sleeping together) and rested his head in the crook of your neck. You fell asleep together.

You woke up to the sound of the camp alarm ringing in your ears, there had been a monster attack. Percy got up immediately, not even looking at you, took riptide and headed outside to fight the monster. You ran to your cabin to take your weapon too, sweat dripping from your face , and heart hammering in your chest. It didn’t matter how many monsters you had fought, a shiver still shook you every time you had to combat. Weapon in hand you rushed to the entrance of the camp, and there stood your boyfriend, fighting against what seemed to be an harpy. Before you could even move, the flying creature’s claws stabbed Percy right in the chest, you saw him fall to the ground with a soft thud. You rushed to his side, he was bleeding hard.

you couldn’t move.

you couldn’t breath.

you frantically tried to do something, to stop the bleeding, to save him, your heart was beating so fast you thought it would jump out of your chest in any moment, a scream of pain stuck in your throat, the world had stopped for a moment.

you leaned in his chest crying hard, this couldn’t be real, you couldn’t have lost him like that…

you woke up to a very alarmed Percy grabbing your shoulders and trying to wake you up, you felt tears building up in your eyes and your breath coming short. You searched for his eyes, for them to tell you that it was just your imagination. Percy pulled you close, stroking your hair softly and whispered sweet nothing in your ear “shh… it was just a nightmare” he kept holding you close, reassure you with his touch, you clutched to him as if once you let go it would disappear into thin air, and your dream would turn out to be the sad reality.

“You- you were gone- and I- I-“ you were shaking like a leaf, Percy just held you close “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, not now not ever” and you let yourself be reassured by his words, you held each other close in the darkness of the night…

A/n: hope it was what you were searching for! 🧡

[misstycloud]

Yandere harpy x reader

TW: bad writing

A/N: sorry I’ve been gone for so long. I’ve been so busy and had no energy at all. But all the exams are over now so I’ll have more time to write now yay! I threw this jumpscare story together for you, sorry if it sucks.

Anyway, let’s welcome bird boy to the club! ;)

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It was scary how much it resembled a human in some ways, yet you knew it definitely wasn't. From the moment you laid eyes on it, it was clear the creature was male. Which contradicted what you knew about it, for it wasn't the first time you had seen such a being. They were featured in a lot of myths, records of their appearance and power.

Harpy, that's what it was. At least, that's what you think. It was the closest you could come up with that resembled the bird-man you met. The upper body and head was human. He, the harpy, had a thick mane of tangled, dark hair. Due to all the exercises he must go through on a daily basis, his chest was well muscled and firm. If it were anyone else, you'd love to take a good look, but that was not the case.

His humanity ended there. On his back, sat a pair of large, strong wings. They too, were dark in colour. Legs did he not have either, not human ones at least. The bird feet had sharp talons that made you anxious whenever you looked at them, even though you knew he'd probably not use them against you.

And thank god you didn't have to see his private parts, that was thanks to the ruffled feathers covering the area. It would be a lot harder to handle him if he walked around with his bird dick hanging out.

This left the confusion, if he really was a harpy, then why did he appear so different. One, he was a male, which none of the harpies in the myths were, there they were all female. Also, he seemed more human like than them, physically that is. In the Greek stories, harpies are depicted as birds with the heads of women.

Crouching down and leaning against the cave wall, you try to avoid glancing at the approaching form. A coo left him, directed at you. You ignored it, there was no way you'd willingly indulge in its desire. When he received no reaction from you, he frowned, nudging you with his head.

When he had returned from his outing and noticed you weren't in the nest he'd created, his first thought was that you had fallen off the cliff connected to his cave in the tall mountain where he'd settled down. He was horrified at the image of you inching closer the the ledge, standing there and glancing down until suddenly the ground under you gave away and crumbled.

He shuddered. You would never have any reason to be scared as long as he is near, for he will do whatever it takes to protect you, his mate. His sweet, innocent mate. The male harpy had never seen someone like you before, but you were very similar to him. Except the wings and instead having those weird naked legs and arms, of course. How unpractical it was, having no wings.

There's no way you could fly like that! Maybe you were defected from birth? He felt sorry for you, you must have led a very hard life. Not being able to hunt for yourself or protect from predetors that wished ill intent upon you. Oh, dear. In the harpy world, should one of the chicks be weaker, it was inevitable the others wouldn't abandon them.

Not even those males you were with when he found you, showed any indication of protecting you. Unworthy, they were. They didn't deserve company from a female as lovely as you. He doesn't care about your defects,which is much more than he could say for the other males.

They were also strange looking with the same differences from him like you, but it didn't mean they should be allowed to slack of their responsibilities. He was glad he got rid of them. Now you could live with someone who actually knew how to take care of their partner.

"Stop it.." you whispered in defiance, wishing he would just let you be. Of course that would not happen.

The creature kept trying to usher you into the giant nest made from twigs. He always seemed the happiest when you were in it, you supposed it was some kind of instinct engraved in his bird-brain. You weren't dumb, you understood the signals and behaviours he was exhibiting.

The fond touches, protectiveness, trying to feed you, and the special dance he'd preform in front of you. You could see how he felt when you refused to move along with him. But why should you care about his feelings when he obviously had no regards for yours, if he did he would not have murdered your friends in cold blood.

You shrieked in surprise, the harpy lifted you up and was walking towards the bed made of natural elements. Gently, he set you down in it and you watched as he went and grabbed the dead carcass of a rabbit. It wasn’t there previously which meant he must have caught it recently, when he was out.

You frowned and pushed it away when he offered it to you. There was no chance you’d eat it, it was raw and you’d rather not catch anything. Then there was also a part of your pride you wished to protect, if you ate it meant giving in. Until now you had managed to avoid consuming anything he gave you. Although, you did eat when you absolutely had too, and in those cases it was fruits and nuts you still had in your backpack. But they were beginning to run out. You were grateful that you were able to keep your bag, when he first took you, what if he had thrown it out?

The male cawed at your defiance and entered the nest as well, placing himself behind you and pulling you into his lap. Protectively, he formed his wings around you, in the process making it slightly darker and harder to see. It was something he loved doing. Another one of his instincts you supposed. It made him feel like a worthy mate, someone who can protect you and provide. He ruffled his feathers in pleasure at the thought.

You winced as he dug into the flesh of the deceased animal, ripped out a bloody chunk and tried to make you eat it. “No, I don’t want that.” You said in a firm tone.

The harpy made multiple attempts, all failing of course. In the end, he leaned down, looking at you with a sad face while shaking you lightly, but you refused. He stared thoughtfully at the meat chunk for a while before gobbling it up himself.

Good, you thought and went on to ignore the male currently holding you previously. At least he won’t pester me about it anymore. However, you were deeply wrong about that.

It wasn’t long until weird sounds began erupting from him, you glanced back at him with suspicion. He was gagging and it hit you, he was going to throw up! You tried to pry his arms off you and escape to oncoming accident, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let go of me! I’m not letting you puke all over me, you stupid bird!” You nearly wanted to throw up yourself at the thought.

You quickly looked away when he leaned over his hand and coughed up a slimy red substance into it. The meat he consumed earlier had been turned to a big mucky goo. It was the most disgusting thing you’d ever seen. But what almost made you faint was when he pushed it towards you.

“No, no, no, no!” You exclaimed in protest.

The male’s brows furrowed at your action and demonstrated an eating gesture with the chewed down flesh.

“Yes, I know you want me to have it but I must decline.” You simply wanted nothing to do with it, sadly he did not appear to understand that.

Having read bird relating books before, you also recognised this behaviour. It was called regurgitation and was when parents feed their chicks by partially digesting food from their own stomachs and then transfer it to their chicks.

The harpy male could not comprehend the reason why you did not eat his catch of the day. He could hear the sounds emitting from your stomach so you were obviously hungry, so why? In the beginning he thought that maybe you didn’t know how to eat it, so he decided to help you and rip off a piece. When you still didn’t do anything, he chose to help you further through first digesting the food in his stomach and then give it to you. Unfortunately you did not seem too happy about that, going as far as to reject his hold and try to flee to another part of the cave.

The whole thing made him incredibly pessimistic. He only wished to take care of you! The male had never had a mate before since harpies mate for life, and he didn’t know it would be so difficult to have one. He didn’t regret you or anything, but he couldn’t deny you were a little harder to care for. It wasn’t your fault, of course. The ones he blamed were your parents, they must have been horrible to you because you didn’t look like a normal harpy.

His blood boiled at the thought. However, that wouldn’t matter anymore, because he won’t let you be alone now that he is here.

When nightfall came, you were forcefully wrapped in his embrace again like he has done ever since he brought you to his home. You two were laying down in the nest, your back to his chest, one of his wings under you to create a more comfortable bedding and one wing over you for a blanket. One of the harpy’s feet was gripping your calf in a secure hold, hindering you from sneaking off. Although, his arms around your waist were a pretty good chackle too. You hated to admit it, but it was actually quite nice.

His feathers were softer on the inside of his wings and very warm. Because of the height you were at, there would sometimes be strong winds which caused you to freeze. Your saviour would then be your kidnapper. He would appear and cover you with his feathers to keeep you heated. You could see how much he enjoyed it when it happened. Not very surprising, really, since it was the only time you’d allow him close.

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smile off his face.

[heraxic]

Hello! I love your work!

How do each of the Lords fight the people who come to slay them? I know Kyril can use his lethal gaze to immediately turn his enemies into stone, but what about the others? :0

Does Donna still use her hallucinogenic powers? Can Alcina kill people with her riddles?

Thank you!!

Kyril’s (karl) stone gaze is of course his primary weapon, but he has several others at his disposal (attached to him), which is very pertinent since it’s become widely known not to look him directly in the eyes. However, they still need to know where he is, so when they’re searching for him and he’s standing hidden somewhere in the dark their eyes will naturally draw towards the two glowing spots.

His ability to fly grants aerial attacks like grabbing and throwing people from lethal heights, and his monstrous strength allows hurling rocks (ranged) and tearing flesh from bones with his claws (melee). If anyone comes too close to his head they risk getting bitten by the venomous snakes on his head. To complement his arsenal, he’s built a giant fortress on the island with walls and towers encircling his usual hunting grounds (warriors don’t come often enough to live off of them, but there are plenty of wild animals around).

Sarantos (salvatore) is completely indomitable at sea and can sink any ship with whirlpools he creates with his mouth. He also has several strong tentacles to pull in people on the coast or in shallow water. The lake he resides in is also dangerous for humans to drink from, because it makes them yearn for the sea until they drown themselves in it.

Daphne (donna) is very nonconfrontational and shy for a monster, relying on web traps and her legion of child-headed spiders to poison/kill anyone coming her way. Those who actually make it to her cave gets taken out via stealth attacks and added to the collection of emptied out husks. While not in direct control of hallucinations, the forest on her island does seem to have a way of getting people lost and confused.

Alina (alcina) and the harpies reside in a castle-like temple, guarding a monumental dome structure in which the ‘heart’ of the islands is kept. The harpies serve as a vanguard, scouting out the area, hunting warriors or bringing them directly to their mother when she’s in need of entertainment. She asks riddles to flaunt her intelligence and superiority, with no intention of letting anyone through the gate, only to grant them a running start when her and her daughters chase them down and add their bloodied armor and gear to their treasury.

Her abilities are much the same as Kyril’s, though she’s vastly physically stronger. The harpies’ intelligence level with Sarantos (their smarts flew out of the window along with their humanity when they were transformed), but they are incredibly fast fliers (faster than Alina and Kyril) with long sharp sickle-like talons and deafening screams (instead of their beautiful singing voices when they were human).

Lastly, Athena (miranda) tends to taunt people first to exhaust and destabilize them before fighting (if she even has to at that point), then using an array of magic and swift strikes with her spear to finish them off.

[mint-yooxgi]

{4} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa, Yunho, & Yeosang)

Words: 9,390

Warnings: Petty jealousy, nasty comments and name calling, slut shaming (not done by any of the guys). Minor violence, blood mentioned and the use of it to smear against someones's back in a show of dominance, unconventional cleaning of wounds. The later half of this chapter isn't edited, so please excuse any weird mistakes. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is!!! The next part!!! I'm very excited for this chapter, and the following ones to come. I have a feeling a lot of people are going to enjoy the next one a lot *wink, wink* hehehe, anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

A vast expanse of red and golden rocks stretches on before you as soon as you transport to the harpy’s nest. The badlands are dry, raising at odd peaks which round out above your head as the sun shines in a cloudless sky. You can practically see the heat rising off of the stones as you shift your gaze, three males surrounding you.

“Their nest lies beneath the ground,” Yunho explains. “We just need to await their messenger.”

You nod your understanding. “I know this is way off, but I am so tempted to make a joke about hunting for dinosaur bones right now.”

“The only carcasses you’ll find here are from last weeks' hunts.” A feminine voice sounds from between the hoodoos. “I apologize for Riza making you wait to be seen. You should have been invited to appear inside.”

The woman is beautiful, there’s no doubt about it as she steps into your line of sight. Her skin is a pale blue, a stark contrast to the red hue of the stones surrounding her. Feathers line her arms, bright red in colour to match her hair which falls nearly to her waist. Her arms are crossed, and on the tips of her fingers, you can just make out the faintest outline of claws.

“Wow.” You cannot help the breath that escapes you in awe.

The smile she sends your way is polite, albeit apologetic, and you notice short, pointy teeth lining the inside of her gums. It appears as if there are two rows on top, the front slightly shorter than the back, and only one row on the bottom.

“These three know me, but allow me to introduce myself now,” she addresses you fully. “My name is Rita, the youngest of the harpy sisters. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She inclines her head in your direction, blinking at you lightly with dark brown eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You incline your head back, introducing yourself as well.

She smiles. “If the four of you would follow me, we can get this meeting underway. My sisters are waiting for us inside.”

Immediately, she begins to lead you all deep into the heart of the badlands, beginning to descend into an opening with crystals lighting the way. You notice she hardly spares a glance in Seonghwa’s direction, and his shoulders seem to relax the more time passes without her making a comment his way. 

You hum lowly to yourself, noticing Yeosang quirk a brow in your direction subtly. A second later and you’re leaning slightly into Seonghwa. “I understand.”

It’s slight, but his breath catches in his throat, a nervous smile being sent your way.

The deeper into the tunnel you descend, the more you notice other harpies peeking their heads out to look at you. All of them seem to have that same pale blue skin that glimmers beneath the light of the crystals, along with vibrantly coloured hair and wings. Some have their feathers lining their arms, while others have large wings which protrude from their backs. There are even some with more bird-like features, including beaks and plumage around their necks and eyes, highlighting their sharp gazes and pointed teeth.

“They’re just in the main chamber,” Rita says, leading you through a separate hallway once the path diverges. “I honestly don’t know why they insisted to wait inside. We literally could have taken all of five minutes to come to an agreement, but you know my sisters. Always have a flare for the dramatics.”

You can’t see her face, but you bet more than anything she’s just rolled her eyes.

“My apologies for that,” she mumbles, a slight sigh escaping her lips.

Reaching the end of the hall, Rita pushes open a large set of double doors. Stepping through, she doesn’t bother to close them as more harpies begin to fill out the grand hall where you see three thrones near the front. Two thrones are currently occupied by a female each whom both seem to be chatting with a third person, but harpy they are not. At least, not with the way their hair seems to slither and hiss with every movement they make.

“Rika! Riza! Will you act like the leaders you are and greet our guests?” Rita clicks her tongue, shaking her head in clear annoyance.

The two harpies sitting on their own respective thrones straighten slightly. The one on the middle throne immediately locks on to Seonghwa, a sultry pull of her lips upwards as she sits forwards. Her bright green wings twitch in excitement behind her, hands grasping the arms of her chair for support. Her dark brown hair, almost black, falls to her shoulders, and she’s quick to brush some strands out of her eyes.

The other, with deep purple feathers trailing down the skin of her arms looks you all over, a curt nod being sent your way in greeting before she’s turning back to the gorgon in front of her. She has bright orange hair, cropped short to her head and styled in every direction messily, but it suits her well.

“Oh,” the one on the middle throne seems to flick her gaze over to you for the briefest of moments, nothing but a look of disinterest crossing her features, “you’re here.”

“Nice to meet you,” the other one gives a tight smile in your direction. “I’m Rika, the middle sister, and this is Riza. The eldest. You’ve met Rita already, but we’re the harpy sisters.”

“Thank you for hosting us today.” You incline your head, introducing yourself quickly afterwards.

Riza snorts, rolling her eyes quite pointedly as she leans back in her seat. “Save the diplomacy, we all know why you’re here.”

Yeosang’s eyebrow twitches, Yunho exhaling a low breath as he crosses his arms over his chest. Seonghwa goes to take a step forward, but your hand on his shoulder stops him. A movement of which you notice causes Riza’s eyes to narrow where your skin makes contact with his.

“Always such a warm welcome with you.” Seonghwa huffs, not bothering to hide his irritation.

“For you?” Riza leans forward, that sultry smirk pulling onto her lips once more. “Always.”

You cannot prevent the way your eyebrows raise in response, eyes widening slightly as you blink in disbelief.

“I apologize for my sisters,” Rita directs her comment at you, another sigh escaping her as she shakes her head. “They aren’t usually like this.”

“This is the coldest greeting we’ve ever gotten from you.” Yeosang observes, tone cool and calculating as his gaze flicks over the two sisters still sitting on the thrones before you all.

Your brow quirks, gaze darting between the three sisters before you.

“Bring better company next time.” Rika shrugs, turning her attention back to the gorgon before her.

Yunho takes a deep breath to steady his building rage, but at one small brush from you against his mind, he manages to calm himself enough to stay where he is.

“Didn’t realize this meeting was for an approval committee.” You deadpan, shrugging cooly in the next second. “Not that your opinion of me matters all that much.”

“You seem to regard yourself highly.” Riza huffs, clearly unimpressed.

“I’m not one to waste my time bragging to someone who hasn’t learned the difference between incompetence and imbecile.” You shrug, and you hear Rita snort out a laugh from your left. “You’re a leader, aren’t you? Learn some respect before you demand it.”

“Oh, I like you!” Rita points at you eagerly, noticing her eldest sister practically fuming in her seat.

“Well, so far, you’re my favourite.” You turn to her, grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “You must be the head sister. You’re certainly the most mature out of the three of you.”

You notice both Riza’s and Rika’s feathers flare in irritation.

“I’m glad someone’s noticed,” Rita grins right back, back straightening as she stands a bit prouder than before. You swear a pleased coo escapes her, too.

“Oh, shut up, Rita,” Rika rolls her eyes. “You literally fall to your knees for the first person who praises you.”

You turn to Rita, brow quirking playfully. “Praise is rather flattering when it’s earned, juxtaposed to an air of preeminence.”

“Not our fault it’s a great ego boost.” Rita crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head quite sassily at her sisters.

“You’re agreeing with the human who just insulted us?” Riza scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her throne. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she’s sulking. You particularly don’t appreciate the way her gaze keeps flicking over to Seonghwa, hoping for both his acceptance and support.

“Don’t dish out what you can’t dish in.” You shrug casually. “I really don’t have time for petty jealousy.”

“Me, jealous of you?” Riza replies, incredulously. “As if!”

You lean slightly into Yeosang’s side. “How old did you say they were again?”

“What does our age have to do with anything?” Rika frowns, staring down at you from her throne.

“You two are acting like young human teenagers.” You shrug, somewhat nonchalantly. “I thought I left that shit back in high school.”

“You’re really going to let her talk to us like that?” Riza shifts her gaze between the three males beside you, purposely leaving Seonghwa for last so she can stare at him with mock hurt in her eyes the longest. “Do I mean nothing to you?”

The way your breath catches in your throat does not go unnoticed by any of them. You stiffen, and it’s Yeosang who places a comforting hand onto your lower back.

Rika smirks.

“We’ve already dealt with the jealous ex, we don’t need another.” Seonghwa states, rather bluntly as his scrutinizing gaze trails over Riza’s figure. “Not that you could even be considered an ex. We were never together.”

“Yet, you kept coming back for more.” The way she smirks is nothing short of malicious, especially when she turns to look down her nose at you.

You bite your tongue to keep the retort you have building within you from escaping your lips. Only, it’s as if your void has slipped, and Seonghwa has read your mind.

“But am I with you now?” He quirks a brow, a clear look of skepticism on his face.

“You could be.” She hums, a sultry look pulling onto her features as she practically spreads herself out on her throne for him. Almost as if she’s trying to entice him in every and any way she can.

You cannot hide your appall as you blink up at her in disbelief. Your lips part slightly as your eyebrows raise, your head tilting the slightest bit to the side.

The entire room is silent, both Rita, Rika, and the gorgon looking between both you and Riza periodically. It’s as if they are waiting for a bomb to drop, noticing the way the three males practically shake in rage beside you.

“Oh, sweetie,” you shake your head, tutting all the while. “Desperation isn’t a good look on you. Frankly, it’s embarrassing. You’re the eldest of the harpy sisters? Really? I’ve met dogs with more manners than you.”

“Did you just call me a fucking bitch?” She stands from her seat so quickly, you swear it almost topples to the ground as her feathers ruffle.

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug, nonchalantly.

“You come into my home-“

“You insulted her first, Riza.” Rita cuts in, stepping in before her sister can swoop down upon you from her position atop her throne. “Not everyone is going to put up with your shit.”

“It’s about time someone put you in your place.” Rika chuckles, standing from her own throne and descending the steps to stand before you. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for my sister’s eccentric behaviour.”

“Older sisters,” you huff out an amused breath, lips quirking at the corners. “Am I right?”

“Literally, you could not be more correct.” Rita nods along with your words, quite enthusiastically.

“Hey!” Rika shifts to ruffle her younger sister’s hair. “It’s not like you’re a pile of daisies, either!”

“Don’t we have things to discuss?” Riza calls, irritation clear on her face as she glides down from her throne to join the two of her sisters standing before you.

“We do.” Yunho replies, quite sharply. There’s no hiding the irritation on his face, that all too familiar darkness swirling within as he glares at Riza for the moment.

“I see Sudaem has already arrived.” Yeosang shoots a pointed look towards the gorgon still standing off to the side.

“Unlike some, she’s actually welcome here.” Riza replies, somewhat pointedly in your direction.

The three males don’t even attempt to suppress their growls any longer. If Riza is going to throw all sense of diplomacy out of the window, then so are they.

“Riza.” Rita hisses, smacking her sister harshly on her arm.

“Sudaem is our friend, and also the current leader of the gorgons.” Rika informs you, a light smile pulling at her features - her way of easing the sudden tension between all of you.

You notice the gorgon tilt her head in your direction when she senses your gaze on her. You bow back, a small, polite smile gracing your own features.

“She was worried Jongho was going to be attending the meeting.” Rita says, causing your eyebrow to quirk at the almost dreamy way she speaks his name. “He scalped their last leader.”

“Yeah, cause she tried to assassinate us.” Seonghwa retorts, his entire body tense as he stands beside you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Riza inching closer to him.

“Talk shit, get hit.” You blink, turning back to the three sisters in front of you.

“Oh, I really like you.” Rita grins, her fangs on full display.

“You’re nothing special.” Riza mumbles, now being the sister standing the closest to Seonghwa.

Faintly, you register the side of her wing brush against his arm. 

Irritation flashes in his eyes as he steps away, shifting closer to you for the moment.

This time, you don’t even react when the eldest sister says this, turning back to face Sudaem.

“You’re still contemplating whether to join the alliance, right?” Once she nods, you continue. “Then, join us. We’ve got a lot to discuss. This affects you as much as them right now.”

“I thought we were already in agreement to join you?” Rita frowns, looking between her older sisters for the moment.

“After the way this one,” Riza jerks her chin in your direction, “has treated me, I’m having second thoughts.”

“Riza, can it.” Rika shoots her sister a sharp look. “No one wants to listen to you whine.”

The eldest harpy huffs in response, a subtle pout tugging at her lips. Again, she shifts closer to Seonghwa, almost as if she’s hoping he’ll comfort her.

Her wing brushes tenderly against his shoulder, and this time, he shoots her a dark look. He eyes her figure pointedly, disgust pulling at his features. “Don’t touch me.”

Riza clearly looks taken aback by the malice in his tone. Enough so, that she retracts her wing. For now.

“So, this alliance,” Rika begins once Sudaem has joined the seven of you. “You mentioned we’d be going up against Malik, and the sorcerer Dimitri?”

“Yes.” Yunho confirms with a nod. “Miyeon convinced Malik to stage that coup twenty years ago, and now we’re seeing all the uprisings her little rebellion cause has started. They’re determined to make a ‘New World’ for all. Dimitri has simply been caught in the crossfire: he’s suffering under mental manipulation from her, even after her death.”

“You mean you haven’t freed him, yet?” Riza quirks a skeptical brow in his direction, clearly unimpressed.

The way Yunho purses his lips does not go unnoticed by you. You frown.

“You’re weaker than I remember.” She hums, beginning to pick at her nails.

“Don’t you dare speak down to him.” Your brow is furrowed, eyes blazing with a building rage. 

You can handle insults being thrown your way just fine, but the moment something is said against someone you love, you have a little bit more of a difficult time controlling yourself. You have half the mind to tell Yunho to fuck with her own mind right now, but you’re not that petty. Yet.

“Riza, he could tear you apart in an instant if he wanted to.” Rita reminds her eldest sister.

“We’ll just call San to do it.” Yeosang shrugs, noticing how all three of the sisters seem to stiffen slightly in fear.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Riza feigns confidence, scoffing in disbelief.

Again, she attempts to move closer to Seonghwa.

A blink and you’ve wrapped your arm around his waist, pulling him into your side and away from her. Her arm just misses brushing his, but from the faint rumble you can feel emanate from his chest, you know that he’s far too caught up in the feeling of you holding him against you to notice. 

Seonghwa practically melts into your touch, immediately wrapping his own arm around your waist as Yeosang removes his hand from your lower back for the moment. The eldest can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a certain pride swirling within as your actions wash over him. You wanted to protect him.

Perhaps his fantasies are coming true. Maybe, just maybe, you are jealous.

Riza scowls, but you simply raise a brow in her direction. If she wants to challenge you, and disregard Seonghwa’s own boundaries, you are more than happy to remind her of her place.

“You said they have an army?” Rika draws your attention back to her as she asks this.

“Dimitri’s sorcerers and hunters for one. Plus, all of the demons that have pledged their loyalty to Miyeon and Malik’s cause.” Seonghwa replies, briefly filling them in on all of their other allies, too.

“Damn sirens.” Sudaem scowls, her hair hissing along with her. “Greedy bastards. Never content with just one thing.”

“No wonder Miyeon propositioned them with an alliance, then.” You huff dryly, shaking your head.

“Did she ever try to attack you herself?” Rita asks, meeting your gaze curiously.

Your lips purse, shoulders tensing slightly. A fact which you know the harpy beside Seonghwa notices.

“Multiple times.” You say, steeling your features for the moment as you attempt to keep your voice from shaking. “She succeeded once.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rita’s expression drops, worry taking over her features as she notices how tense the three males become beside you. “The few times I had the displeasure of meeting her were rough. I can only imagine what she was like with a personal vendetta against you.”

“No one deserves that.” Rika agrees, concern shining in her eyes as she notices you swallow thickly.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You tilt your head in acknowledgement to their words, your lips quirking upwards slightly despite the smile being tight.

Riza seems to hum in disappointment beside you, and you notice Yeosang’s hands twitch at his side.

“Our magic should be more than enough to combat the sorcerers.” Rita continues, looking directly at you as she says this. “After all, their spells don’t work against us.”

“They don’t?” There’s clear wonder in your voice, eyes lighting up as you meet her gaze.

“You mean you didn’t tell her about us?” Riza huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You weren’t important enough to mention.” Seonghwa states, rather bluntly as his sharp eyes dart beside him.

Her jaw clenches, clearly irritated by his response.

Rika chuckles. “To answer your question: yes. We can’t cast any spells of our own, but we have magic flowing through our blood all the same. Witches and warlocks do not affect us in any way, unless they choose to physically attack us.”

“That’s really cool!” You say, eyes lighting up in awe. “Having your own immunity to magic must come in really handy.”

“For sure!” Rita nods enthusiastically along with your words. “It’s like having a built in forcefield around us at all times.”

“Do you feel it if a spell gets deflected off of you, or is it undetectable when magic is used against you?” You ask, that curious gleam ever so prominent in your eyes.

A look which three males know all too well, and despite the irritation they feel towards a certain sister, they all cannot help the way fond smiles begin to pull at their lips while looking at you. It’s nice to know that you’re still curious about their world, and that you want to know more about the different creatures that reside within them. They would tell you themselves, but what better way to learn than from that species themselves?

“Sometimes we feel it, and other times we don’t.” Rika answers, a smile pulling at her features as she sees you turn your bright gaze towards her. “It depends on the level of the spell, the intricacy in it’s casting, and the power of the wielder.”

“Though, only those with casting magic in their veins can perform spells.” Rita adds. “If there’s no trace, the spell won’t work.”

“A caster doesn’t even need to have any training for a spell to work for them.” Sudaem chimes in. “Though, it depends on how much stored magic said castor has. If it’s a high level spell, like summoning or inflicting damage on an opponent, then they have to come from a strong line of casters.”

You blink, as if realizing something. Subtly, your grip tightens around Seonghwa’s waist.

“Sorry, can we just pause for a second.” You raise your free hand in the air. “You just said that a caster can performs spells properly without knowing as long as they have powerful magic stored within them?”

Riza rolls her eyes, mumbling how you need better comprehension skills. You ignore her, as do the others for now.

“Yes.” Sudaem nods, meeting your gaze. “That is correct.”

“So, say someone read from a ‘book of spells’,” you put those words in air quotes for the moment, “for fun, but it actually worked. That means that person has casting magic lineage?”

Realization crosses the three male’s faces, eyes going wide at what this means.

“Most likely.” Rika confirms with a blink.

“Why? Do you know someone who is unaware they can cast spells?” Rita’s brow furrows, head tilting in curiosity at you.

You look between the three males surrounding you, amusement dancing in your gaze. “My best friend is a witch, and none of you bothered to tell me.”

“Your best friend?” Sudaem’s brow furrows slightly. “Did she summon them or something?”

“You could say that.” You reply, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Summoned, how?” She presses, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. “Physically?”

“No, not physically.” Seonghwa answers for you. “It was only through a mirror at first.”

A snort of laughter is heard from off to your left. “Weak ass witch could only summon you through mirrors?”

Again, you ignore her, but that doesn’t stop your brow from twitching in irritation.

“Do you remember the name of the tome you used?” Sudaem meets your gaze.

“Uh…” you grimace slightly. “No, I do not. My apologies.”

“There’s only two clans of casters that are powerful enough to summon the Eight Kings.” Rita shifts her gaze between all four of you standing before her. “What’s your friend’s clan name?”

“Clan name?” Your brow furrows before realization crosses your features. “Oh, her last name is Ciervo.”

A brief look is shared between Sudaem, Rita, and Rika. Even the three males seem surprised by this revelation, for you’ve never spoken your best friend’s last name in front of them before.

“Has she ever discussed her magic abilities with you?” Rika turns back to face you, running a hand through her hair and causing the spikes to stick up in new directions.

“I didn’t even know she had them.” You reply, somewhat in awe as you blink.

“You didn’t know your best friend is apart of one of the most powerful caster clans in the realm?” Sudaem frowns slightly, nothing but a meek curiosity in her gaze.

“I don’t think even she is aware of it.” You exhale a low breath. A second later, you meet Sudaem’s gaze. “How do you know so much about casters?”

“Subject of interest.” She shrugs lightheartedly, a bashful chuckle escaping her shortly afterwards as she smiles.

“Our dear Sudaem here has been attempting to impress the head of the Sintra clan for years.” Rita affectionately wraps an arm around the gorgon’s shoulders, shaking her lightly.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t seem to be working.” The gorgon grumbles, looking down at her feet.

“Their loss, then.” You hum, and you notice her head whip up to look in your direction.

“You think so?” She meets your gaze, a sort of hidden hope shining behind her eyes.

“Anyone who puts in that amount of dedication to learn something about the person they like is definitely worthy of praise in my books.” You smile at her, nodding your head all the while. “Don’t waste your time on someone who sounds like they don’t deserve your energy. You’re better than that. You deserve better than that.”

She averts her gaze somewhat bashfully, only causing your heart to warm.

“If you have anymore questions, just let me know.” Sudaem mumbles, her hair swaying softly around her as the serpents coo affectionately.

“Oh, boy! Do I ever!” You immediately perk up, and loving chuckles are falling from Yunho’s, Yeosang’s, and Seonghwa’s lips. “Though, I don’t want any of my questions to come across as rude, or potentially ignorant.”

“Go for it,” Rika shrugs, straightening out her shirt for the moment. “If what you’ve said about them not telling you shit about us is true, you must be curious.”

“You honestly have no idea,” you breathe, meeting her gaze.

“Then, ask away!” Rita encourages you with a soft smile.

“Okay, this might be really ignorant of me,” you turn to face Sudaem once more, “but isn’t your gaze supposed to be able to turn people to stone?”

The one corner of her lips quirks upwards. “It does.”

Your eyes widen in awe, but before you can ask, she continues.

“We have a second set of lids that cover our eyes like a film. We can retract them at any time to allow our cold gaze to freeze anyone we see fit.” She explains. “It’s clear, so you don’t notice it, but if you know what to look for, you’ll be able to tell when it’s there.”

“That’s so cool!” Your lips part, a pure look of wonder on your features as you gaze at her. “I’m still wrapping my head around learning that all of these incredible species I’ve long since believed to be mythological are real. It’s incredible, and I’m honoured to be in your presence.”

Again, you incline your head in their direction, and you notice the smiles stretching wider on Rita’s, Rika’s, and Sudaem’s faces. Hell, even the corner of Riza’s lips twitch upwards.

“You should have seen her when she met the dragons.” Seonghwa hums, nothing but pure affection dripping from both his tone and gaze as he shifts to look at you.

“Apparently, she left quite the impression. The babies imprinted on her.” Yunho adds, pride clear in the way he stands a little straighter.

“We heard Wyno gave you her blessing.” Sudaem comments, her own eyes lighting up in awe. “That’s incredible!”

This time, it’s your turn for your cheeks to warm. Averting your gaze to the floor, you mumble out a ‘thank you’.

“It’s been over one hundred years since the alpha of the dragons has granted anyone her blessing.” Rika comments, clearly impressed. “You must both be extremely special, and have done something incredibly selfless to earn that bond.”

“She did.” Seonghwa confirms, a hint of roughness to his voice.

You squeeze him tighter.

“She is.” Yeosang adds, his loving gaze turning to focus on you as you briefly meet his own. 

The smile you share is nothing short of tender, and you faintly hear some soft cooing coming from around the room. Your audience seems to be able to pick up the amount of love you have between you and Your Kings, and even Sudaem, and The Three Sisters all have to admit that your bonds are obvious.

Riza’s expression falls.

“I have been allowed to thrive thanks to them, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You admit, heart swelling in your chest at your own words. You speak nothing but the truth, and every person in that chamber can tell.

Three content hums from Your Kings greet your ears, each of them taking the time to brush tenderly against your void.

Sudaem smiles. “Do you have any more questions for me?”

You turn back to her, eyes lighting up with that familiar spark of curiosity. “Do I ever!”

Her whole demeanour perks up. Ever her serpents hiss excitedly.

“So, with the dual lids, do they change your eye colour at all?” You ask.

“Slightly.” Sudaem confirms. “Our natural eye colour is slate toned, but the lid makes them lighter. Would you like to see? I can’t show you my true eyes, lest you be turned to stone, but I can show you a half comparison.”

“If you’re okay with that!” You nod eagerly.

A few steps and she’s in front of you. The way her serpents slither to rest behind her shoulders to make you more comfortable as she gets closer warms your heart. Slowly, she leans in, and you watch her eyes as a clear film begins to shift over the one pupil. It raises about halfway before stopping, and you can see the bottom half of her iris is a slight shade darker than the top half.

“Wow.” Your lips part in awe, blinking a few times as you both lean away from each other once more. “That’s incredible!”

“Thank you.” Sudaem returns to her original spot, clasping her hands bashfully over the front of her body.

“Oh,” Rita teasingly wraps her arm around the gorgon’s shoulders, shaking her lightly, “someone’s getting shy.”

“Shut up.” Sudaem mumbles, her hands beginning to fiddle with each other, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Aw, our little Sudaemie is gonna develop another crush,” Rika joins in on the teasing, moving over to poke the aforementioned female’s cheek affectionately. “How will I ever survive my love leaving me for yet another?”

The way you see the serpents on her head begin to playfully nip at Rika’s finger has you laughing. You can just tell how close friends they all are.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Riza remaining oddly quiet for the moment. Her own gaze is calculating, never once leaving Seonghwa’s profile as she studies him from head to toe. The way your hand still rests comfortably on his hip has her pursing her lips.

“You three remind me of Reina and I.” You grin, failing to notice how the three males grin slightly along with you. “Teasing and all.”

“You mean you purposely continue to flirt with others despite being in a relationship?” Riza cuts in, clear malice on her features as she feigns shock. “Kings need someone loyal to them, not an ugly whore who spreads her legs for the first thing that gives her attention.”

Both Yeosang and Seonghwa nearly lunge at her right then and there. Only, your hand raising in front of all of them prevents either male from doing so.

“You certainly have a lot of pride for someone attempting to be a home wrecker.” You reply, somewhat bluntly. “You clearly have your own personal vendetta against me, and I’ve already dealt with someone much worse than you. You’re about as intimidating to me as a chicken.” You sigh, shaking your head before pretending to think about it. “Actually, no. At least chickens are intimidating.”

Rita bursts into laughter almost immediately after the words are out of your mouth, slapping her eldest sister playfully on her arm. Even Rika has a difficult time muffling her laughter, while Sudaem can barely contain her own.

“If all you’re going to do is stand there and insult me, I’d really rather you get it all out of your system now.” You motion her towards you, clearly unimpressed by her. “I’m sure the King you’re trying to impress will love you threatening His Queen, seeing as it worked out so well for the last one.”

Her wings flare out in irritation behind her, scowl pulling at her features.

“At least I’m not some weak, pathetic mortal who needs saving every ten minutes.” Riza spits, taking a threatening step towards you.

Only, you perceive it as her wanting to get closer to Seonghwa again, given the way she goes to reach for him. So, you do what you feel is best: you push him behind you as you fully turn to face the harpy beside you.

“Sorry, how long have we been talking?” You tilt your head, almost mockingly at her. 

If she’s going to continue to be a bitch, then you’ll gladly match her energy.

Immediately, her wings spread out behind her in attempts to intimidate you. You can see the irritation shining clear as day on her features, fingers flexing at her sides as her claws glint in the light.

The way you hear all three males growl warningly behind you lets you know that her flaring her wings like that holds some deeper significance. The next words you hear only serve to confirm that fact.

“Riza, not the wings.” Rika warns lowly as a commotion begins to stir within that chamber.

All of the other harpies present begin to whisper, their feathers ruffling as more enter to see what all the fuss is about. A few even go so far as to take off into the air, hovering around to get a better view of the action that might be about to take place.

“Don’t challenge her.” Rita adds, a hint of worry shining in her eyes as she sees the dark gazes of the three males behind you.

“No, if this wannabe Queen wants to come into our home, and insult me, then she should expect retaliation.” Riza spits, rather harshly. “I’m not going to stand here and take this disrespect.”

“Riza, you’re being a huge hypocrite right now.” Sudaem grimaces, glancing between her friend and the three Kings whose black eyes are all on full display. Her serpents hiss nervously, shifting restlessly over her head.

“Can it, Sudaem.” Riza hisses, feathers ruffling as her wings flare once more. “This is between me and her.”

“I literally never took issue with you to begin with.” Your tone is blunt, a bored sigh escaping you. “You’re the one who’s had it out for me since we walked in here. Just get it all out now, I’d really rather not have issues on the battlefield.”

“Who says we’re going to align with you?” Riza’s fingers twitch once more, snarl pulling at her lips.

“So, you’ve wasted all of our time.” You nod your understanding. “Good to know.”

“No, wait! Please!” Rita reaches out for you before stopping herself. With how tense the three males look beside you, the last thing she wants to do is actually touch you. Who knows how they might react. “We’ll align with you! We have in the past, and if the sirens have truly agreed to fight with Malik, then our friends in the gorgon territories aren’t safe!”

“You’ve had my allegiance since you mentioned that fact. Besides, I really like you.” Sudaem nods firmly in agreement. “We’ll support you in any upcoming battles.”

“Thank you. That is very much appreciated.” You smile at the three other women off to your right.

They all smile back, shoulders slightly drooping in relief as they believe this issue to be resolved. Only, you know better. 

Riza still does not back down.

“Well, since we’ve now done what we came to do,” you incline your head respectfully to the two younger harpy sisters, as well as Sudaem. “We’ll take our leave now.”

“Thank you for meeting with us.” Rita bows to you, along with Rika and Sudaem. “I would extend an offer to return, but not until out eldest here learns some manners.”

Riza’s nostrils flare, “how dare you sister-“

“Can it, Riza.” Rika’s eyes narrow at the female. “Don’t shame us any further because you want to fuck her King one last time.”

The harpy purses her lips, smartly remaining quiet for the moment. From the way her wings twitch, though, you can tell she has more to say.

“We’ll be in touch,” Yeosang states, rather bluntly. “Be ready for anything.”

“We will.” Rika nods, Sudaem and Rita adding their agreement.

“I’ll walk you out.” Rita practically skips over to you, a joyful glint in her eyes as she smiles your way.

“I would enjoy that very much.” You return her expression.

Shifting back to the open doors of the chamber, you begin to make your way back out of the caves. Your right hand comes to settle on Seonghwa’s lower back, an added protection and assurance for both you and him against that piercing gaze you can feel watching your every movement.

You get all of two steps before a loud huff is heard from behind you.

“Wait.” The voice is calmer than before, but still urgent, desperate in a way.

You feel it long before you register what has actually happened. You had been expecting something like this, anyways. Considering the way Riza couldn’t resist continuously reaching out for him, you knew she would most likely try one last time.

Your hand is around her wrist before the tips of her fingers can ever graze Seonghwa’s back. There is an unbridled fury burning behind your eyes as you meet her own, shock clear on her features. With a brief look around the room, you know she’s not the only one.

“I though he told you to stop touching him.” Your voice is deadly; calm in the way a storm is before it hits.

Riza’s wings flare out behind her once more, feathers expanding to make herself appear bigger as all eyes are on the two of you. Even the males can only watch on, a certain sense of pride and smugness welling within as they observe the scene. Yet, none are as affected as Seonghwa is.

You protected him. You defended him, and made sure this damn harpy knew her place. Despite the tension and rough patches in your relationship, you chose to fight for him. A fact which sets his entire body alight, soul blazing with that all too familiar burning desire and love he always feels when he looks at you.

Nothing could have ever prepared him for this.

“Don’t touch me!” Riza seethes, ripping her wrist out of your grip and managing to catch the skin of your palm with her nails.

Blood begins to drip onto the floor of the chamber, and the three males cannot contain the threatening snarls that escape them. Long since have their eyes flashed black, immediately shifting into offensive stances as they stare down the eldest harpy before them.

Alliance be damn, she just hurt their Queen.

“Oh, so you are aware of the notion of consent.” You hum, nodding to yourself as if you’ve just learnt something astounding.

“You bitch!” She lunges. 

A screech tears from her in a blinding rage, her claws extending as she reaches for your throat.

The only assurance the three males get is you calmly brushing against their minds.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve flipped the eldest harpy over your shoulder, implementing the training both San and Jongho have taught you this past week. The fact that Riza doesn’t expect you to do this works to your advantage, momentarily stunning her, and using her own momentum against her.

She flips herself onto her stomach, attempting to lift herself back to her feet. Only, she doesn’t get very far.

Riza is forced to the ground, her face in the dirt as you step on her back, right between her wings. Each of your hands grip at the plumage of her feathers harshly, the bones groaning from the strain. Subtly, you lean in to her as you press her into the ground, your blood staining her bright feathers red.

“Get off of me!” She shrieks, arms trying, and failing to push her up from the ground. Your hold on her is too strong, and besides, every time she moves around too much, you tug on her wings, pain filled cries escaping her in tandem.

“Why should I adhere to your wishes when you continuously disrespect My King’s?” You hum, feigning innocence as you tilt your head mockingly down at her. “You challenged me first. I’m simply answering the call.”

Whispers reach your ears from around the room, overhearing some of the harpies whispering about how Riza did flare her wings at you earlier. From what you can gather, the eldest harpy sister has garnered no sympathy from the crowd.

“You wanted to test my patience. Now, you have to suffer the consequences.” You spit, tugging firmly on her wings yet again as she cries out for someone, anyone to help her. “Do not touch what isn’t yours, Riza.”

You lean in closer, dragging your foot purposely down her spine as your injured hand comes to rest between her shoulder blades. Squeezing your hand into a fist, you purposely let your blood drip onto her skin, smearing between the space between her wings as a crazed look takes over your features.

“Let this serve as your reminder,” you begin, voice booming around the room as you command everyone’s attention. “I am not some weak, pathetic mortal that you can walk all over and treat however you please. If you strike me, I will strike back. If you so much as lay a finger on someone I love without their permission, it will be the last thing you ever do. I only have respect for those who respect me, and if you ever disrespect My Kings, or me, their Queen, again, I will not be so forgiving.”

Shoving yourself off of her, you step back. Making a show of it, you wipe your hands together, cracking your neck all the while. 

Your eyes flash. “Do not test me again.”

A silence so still settles over that chamber as you step away from the stunned harpy on the floor. Turning back towards the two younger sisters and Sudaem, you notice them tense as your fiery gaze meets their own. Firmly, you incline your head.

“Thanks again for today.” Your voice is somewhat gruff as you step back over to your three Kings. “We’ll be in touch.”

The moment those words escape your lips, Seonghwa’s hand is on your lower back. You can feel the way he physically trembles as his fingers press into your skin, immediately transporting you home. The foyer greets you in the blink of your eyes, and you let out a long sigh.

The others appear instantly, having both heard your sigh, and smelt your blood.

“What happened?” The worry is clear on San’s features, the memory of the first time you came back from visiting the dragons flashing through all of their minds.

“Nothing.” Your reply is short, tone pointed as you swallow thickly. 

Jongho takes a step closer to assess your hand.

“I’m fine.” You raise your palm to him, the cuts now on full display.

“You’re clearly not fine, My Love,” Hongjoong’s brow creases in worry as he grabs your bleeding hand in his own. A single thought prevents him from healing you for now, instead choosing to take the pain away for as long as he can. He turns to the three males standing across from them. “What happened?”

Both Yeosang and Yunho share a look between each other, the corners of their lips twitching upwards seeing as the eldest cannot form a coherent sentence. A few words later, and they’re sharing their most recent memory of you putting that damn harpy in her place from mere minutes ago.

Seonghwa’s chest heaves, breathing ragged as he cannot tear his eyes from you. Hongjoong’s arm is currently wrapped around you waist in comfort, and the elder male cannot help the way his jaw twitches in slight irritation. That should be him right now. You protected his honour, and now, all he wants to do is worship you. He wants to show you how grateful he is, and show you just how much what you did for him means to him.

More than all of that, though, he wants to pull you into his arms and tell you how you just made him feel.

The warmth flooding his veins sets his skin tingling, electricity coursing through his very soul as he continues to stare at you. His eyes are hooded, nothing but that familiar darkness swirling within his gaze for you as he attempts to control himself for the moment. The fact that you went out of your way, not once, not twice, but three times to protect him today has an ecstasy unlike ever before running through him.

All he wants to do is please you. To show his Queen how grateful her King is for her very existence.

After all, it’s what he’s always wanted. It’s what you’ve always deserved.

Your voice manages to pull him out of his thoughts, grounding him to the very reality before him.

“I’m not jealous, I’m angry.” You seethe, pacing rather pointedly back and forth. “I’m fucking angry that that chicken-“ Mingi and Wooyoung both snort in laughter at this, “had the audacity to disrespect My King’s boundaries. Multiple times.”

“How do you think we felt, listening to her insult you the whole time?” Yunho hums knowingly, Yeosang quickly agreeing with him.

“Oh, insults I can handle.” You freeze in your spot as you turn to look at him. “After the shit I went through with Miyeon, I can handle some petty comments thrown my way. But the moment, the fucking moment those comments or actions get turned on any of you?”

If you were holding onto something, you would have already thrown it at the wall in attempts to dispel some of your anger.

The eight males straighten all around you, low, pleased growls emanating from their chests.

“I doubt that chicken will do anything else to you now, Angel.” Wooyoung chuckles affectionately, stepping towards you and wrapping you in his arms. “You’ve really put her in her place.”

“Yeah, and smearing your own blood over her back where her wings protrude?” San whistles lowly. “Power move.”

“I wish I could have been there to see it first hand.” Mingi sighs, almost wistfully.

“It was certainly a pleasant sight to see.” Yunho grins, eyes shining with that fondness you’ve become so used to from him. Not only that, but the way you can see that same pride lingering within sets your heart racing inside your chest. 

A look you know is mirrored on all of their faces.

“Looks like all that training is coming to fruition much sooner than we thought.” Jongho wears a smug look on his face, chest rumbling in content as his hooded gaze zeroes in on your every move.

“How did it feel, Baby?” San asks, taking a step closer to you to join Wooyoung in holding you in his arms. “How did it feel to put that bitch in her place?”

You turn to him, sparing a glance out of the corner of your eyes as you finally get your breathing under control for the moment. Gently, your hand comes up to rest on the skin of his forearm, grounding yourself as you avert your gaze to the floor.

“Amazing.” You breathe, voice barely above a whisper as you shift your gaze up to meet Seonghwa’s eyes across from you. “Like it has always been what I’m meant to be.”

“And what is that, My Love?” Hongjoong asks, an eager gleam shining within his gaze. A look which he knows is mirrored on all of his brother’s faces right now as they watch you intently, hearts beating erratically within their chests.

Your back straightens and you take a deep breath in.

“Your Queen.”

Eight pleased snarls greet you in response, Wooyoung going as far as to affectionately nuzzle his face into the side of your neck. Even San’s grip on you tightens, but you’re slipping out of their hold in the next second. Much too soon for either of the two male’s liking.

This whole time, Seonghwa has yet to stop trembling. His eyes track your every movement as you approach him, shamelessly leaning into your touch the moment you reach up to cup his cheek.

For a moment, nothing is said between you. The silence is calm, welcome as you search his face. For what, you’re not quite sure, but the way you trail your hand down to grasp his own, tugging him towards your room for the time being, Seonghwa knows that everything will be okay.

The others don’t bother to stop you, nor do they say anything as you walk passed them. Even Kuroo seems to be nowhere in sight as you shut the door gently behind the two of you.

Softly, you guide him over to your bed, sitting with him on the edge of your mattress. A blink, and your hand is back on his cheek.

“Mars,” the way you call his name, so tenderly and full of nothing but love for him as your eyes fill with concern has a shudder caressing his spine. “Are you okay?”

He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he absolutely revels in this moment here in time with you.

Still, he cannot keep himself from shaking.

“I should be the one asking you that, My Divine.” His eyes blink open, that same fond look shining through as he stares deeply into your own.

“I’m more worried about you.” You admit lowly, thumb stroking along his cheekbone as he blinks at you. “I’m sorry I let her push your boundaries so far.”

“No, My Divine,” he shakes his head, shifting all the more closer to you as he cups your own face gently in the palms of his hands. “What you did for me today, what you said, has made me so unbelievably happy. Even now, I can hardly contain myself from ravishing you on this very bed to show you just how deep my gratitude for you lies.”

You cannot deny the way your heart simply flutters from his confession, breath catching in your throat.

“The fact that you wanted to look after me, that you wanted to protect me means more to me than you’ll ever know.” He tilts your head forward slightly in order to place a gentle kiss onto your forehead. Allowing his lips to linger against your skin for as long as possible, he mumbles, “Now, let me take care of you.”

Carefully, he reaches down to grasp your injured hand in his own, pulling away the slightest bit to get a better look at the cut. He’s glad Hongjoong listened to him, allowing for him to heal you after everything that you’ve done for him today.

You didn’t even notice you were still bleeding, blinking down at the open wound. There seems to be about three small slits, the blood flow slowing, but still enough to have droplets of red swelling against your skin.

Seonghwa’s breathing deepens, intently staring down at the blood that gathers in the palm of your hand. His touch is nothing short of tender as he caresses your wrist in his hold, and from the way you can feel his finger pressing into your pulse, you have a feeling you know exactly why he’s in such a trance.

“Please, My Queen,” he’s nearly panting at this point, eyes locked intently on your hand. “May I-“ he swallows thickly, grip tightening the slightest bit on your wrist. “I promise to be gentle, just please,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips, “may I have a taste?”

Your own breath hitches in your throat, and you notice his eyes flick upwards to meet your own. You swallow thickly. “You may.”

Seonghwa’s heart positively leaps for joy in his chest, eyes flashing black as the significance of this moment washes over his very soul. The fact that you’re even allowing him to do this, and he’ll be doing so after such a monumental event that happened today, means more to him than you’ll ever know.

Slowly, and with the greatest of care, Seonghwa raises your hand slightly, leaning down all the while. Gently, his fingers hold your palm open, his tongue lightly dragging over your wounds.

The very second that your blood touches his tongue, he moans. All sense of composure is thrown to the wind as he cleans your blood from your hand, his tongue nothing more than a gentle caress over your skin.

With every drag of his tongue, those small cuts begin to heal until there is nothing left. Still, he holds you to him, laving his mouth sensually against the skin of your palm as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses over your hand.

Shamelessly, he moans against you, guttural groans escaping him as he begins to trail his kisses up your palm, and to your wrist. Purposely, he laves his mouth over your pulse, feeling the way it stutters beneath his lips for him and him alone.

His tongue continuously darts out to taste your skin beneath him, slowly making his way up your arm with his kisses until he can go no further. The barrier of clothing irritates him, but that does not prevent him from wrapping his one arm around you and pulling you flush into him.

A moment later, and his forehead is pressing against yours once more.

“I love you, My Queen.” He breathes, the ghost of his breath fanning over your lips and causing tingles in its wake.

“Mars-“

“Please,” his voice is desperate, and he knows this as the words escape him in no more than a whisper, “My Divine, may I kiss you?”

This time, you don’t even have to think about your answer. Hopefully, you won’t be interrupted again, either.

“Yes.”

His lips are on yours without a second thought, pulling you impossibly closer as he pours all that he is into the kiss. The way he can feel you hum against him is simply icing on the cake, and he cannot prevent the way he begins to smile against your lips.

A moment later, and he deepens it, one hand coming up to support the back of your neck as he holds you to him. The way you shift to crawl onto his lap has a pleased growl escaping him, his eyes flashing as he feels you gently push him down onto your bed.

You can taste the faintest bit of your blood lingering on his tongue, but it doesn’t bother you at all. Not when he’s holding you like this. Not when he’s kissing you like you are the very air he needs to breathe.

He groans, hands holding onto your waist tenderly as you pull away from him in order to stare down at him from your position above him. A position he has fantasized about more time than he’d care to admit.

“My Queen,” his voice is nothing more than a pleased rumble as his thumbs begin to stroke tenderly against your skin beneath your shirt. “Kiss me more.”

You smile: a simple, seductive pull of your lips upwards as you lean into him once more. He can feel the ghost of your words against the skin of his lips, and he shivers, pulling you closer, “With pleasure.”

[roseate-felidae]

Hi,

I love lagomorphs. (im autistic with a special interest in them).

Something really bothers me about a "fact" stated about the yaelokre song "harpy hare". The song is about overprotective mothers. It's symbolised by a hare and her young. A quote from the song is "Harpy hare tell me where have you buried all your children?"

I have heard many people reference how hares really do bury their young to protect them from predators.

Unfortunately, it's not true. Its the wrong animal.

Hares do NOT bury their offspring.

European rabbits bury their offspring. Some warrens have low ranking does near the outer edges (close to the surface). Requiring her to bury her offspring away when she leaves the warren to feed.

European rabbits are oryctolagus cuniculus. Hares are usually Lepus. They are both lagomorphs but different species. It's like saying tigers hunt in packs and lions have stripes. Both are panthera but different species.

Hares have precocial young called leverets. They are born able to see and fully furred. They hide them in the tall grass above ground and leave them for most of the day. Coming back to feed them.

Whereas the european rabbit young are altricial. Their kits are born blind and hairless. They are kept in underground burrows called warrens. Mother rabbit also leave their young most of the time unless feeding them. Ironically hares and rabbits are the least overbearing mothers.

Understandably, Harpy rabbit is not very catchy. But please stop spreading this misinformation.

I love the song Harpy hare and the creator is very talented. I especially love the masks. This is not meant to argue with the creator. But just a fact check.

[ranticore]

Compilation of Cuinn POV Writing (part 1)

These bits and pieces are older than this blog but I forgot they existed until last night. First part is intended to be a direct follow up on Cuinn's initial capture by Mikalai, second part (in a different post b/c it's long) is a few years after that when he meets Ilya :) And I'm too lazy to put them in a google doc so it's going into the body of this post enjoy

-

He gazed dispassionately down at the sleeping human. What on earth was that strange one thinking? To bring him here to this madhouse flock of babytalkers and ground-bound humans who seemed hardly better. Nobody made sense when they spoke and nobody did what they meant. Why give food and bare your neck so respectfully if you were then going to tie your captor up like a piece of prey?

He tested the bindings again, an agitated ticking under his skin. Still tight, made of two leather pieces sandwiched on either side of a metal woven cord. Cuinn's beak still ached from his attempt to chew it. He'd sliced through a tiny bit of leather, triumphant, and that metal had immediately cracked a notch into the hook in his mouth. It would take weeks to grow out. Why hadn't they warned him? The baffling mix of hospitality and imprisonment made Cuinn's crop seize up and his feathers prick. Was he little more than a farm animal to these humans? Something to be cared for so nicely, right up until the moment of its slaughter?

Let that human come closer, and… and… Cuinn let out his puffed up breath, his feathers flattening again. The man had turned over on the furs he'd made into a nest, and the makeshift blanket fell off his front. Beneath there was a thinner tunic, something woven. His chest rose and fell slowly, in unhurried sleep. Killing someone in their sleep was not the action of a king, but the temptation was ever-present. Cuinn's mouth watered.

Yet the tether still held. Cuinn could not step closer. He instead hunkered down into the ragged nest as if to warm an egg and silently observed.

The human yawned and tipped his head sideways, away from Cuinn, and bore more of his pale throat. That was soft too, though Cuinn would have to step closer to confirm. He reminded Cuinn of the tiercels at the coast, the flightless ones and plump waterbirds, though he knew that assuming delicacy or weakness was a mistake. Cuinn had felt the iron strength behind the binding ropes.

He pulled one of the stripped sheep femurs closer for an early morning snack, gripping the bone with his talons while he used his beak and long, barbed tongue to scrape the marrow out.

A low grunt from the human stilled Cuinn briefly before the hunger became more important. The human said something and sat up. What an odd creature he truly was; close enough to a harpy that Cuinn could find him familiar, even attractive, but strangely proportioned, short-armed and blunt. Had he been smaller, the size of a hare, Cuinn would have not hesitated to rip him apart.

His monstrous captor opened the rear door and stepped out into the light. Other harpies craned their heads to see through the doorway before it shut again. Cuinn licked more marrow out of the sheep's long bones, waiting for the next indignity. Surely that human was preparing to drag him around again, the spoils of his hunt.

But no. The human returned with a hare and a pheasant, warmed but not fresh-killed. He set them on the floor and simply walked out again. He even left Cuinn his privacy, letting the door become a welcome barrier between himself and those chattering mudhawks ready to snatch away any food he got.

It helped Cuinn eat in peace but it didn't lessen the sensation of capture, of being kept like livestock. But he was still weak and likely couldn't have flown any great distance on his ragged wings, his heart in palpitations at the dual effort of pulling wasted muscle and digesting this new glut of food which would only weigh him down more.

The voices of men and the odd harpies pressed in from all angles. Dust shook down from the wooden roof as manicured talons settled upon it. The harpies spoke in exaggerated and strange tones, loud and dramatic no matter the subject, and oddly truncated in a way that flattened the meaning, the errors of a chick learning to speak for the first time. And at a permanently ear-splitting volume, no softer hisses or sibilant tones, only full throated screeches and peeping.

The effects of men on the harpy chicks they stole were legendary. Why would they care for anything, when their provisions were always guaranteed and their hunting little more than a swoop and catch, none of the hours-long stalking and waiting. Their flying skills, too, were roundly mocked by the harpies of Cuinn's flock. His ex-flock, he supposed.

And what hobbies did the humans deign to allow their captives? He'd seen no woven nests or bower walls, no artistic pursuits, nothing but these wooden man-made walls and straw.

The adorable human returned in the afternoon with a deep trough of some kind of liquid. Whitish and warm, the colour of an eggshell.

Although Cuinn had thought warmly about the human in his sleep, he was not so pleased to see the man in full wakefulness, wrapped in his heavy cloak, his face like iron. Cuinn saw again the figure of his captor, the source of his shame and indignity, and made a token effort to lash out at the man. He didn't expect to reach, and sure enough the tether snapped to shivering tension while his talons caught thin air, but it was the best way to send his message. He would not capitulate to this treatment. But the man shrugged it off so easily, sparking fury, and simply set down the container of liquid. He said something in his rumbling voice and gestured across at the trough.

Cuinn pointedly did not approach it. His hunger was dull for the first time in weeks, he would not debase himself for this lesser man. Cuinn was a king. A king of what? his mind said mockingly, and the resultant shame was enough to have him snapping and hissing at the man again, until he finally left.

Cuinn sniffed the liquid, but smell was not his primary sense and he didn’t learn much, only that it smelled somewhat like bone marrow. He slipped his tongue into the top layer and found it gelatinous as it cooled, a soft broth with bones at the bottom and other mysterious ingredients suspended in the tasty fluid. It was more sustaining than the dishes of water he’d been given but quenched his thirst just as well. As he lapped it up, lying on the awkward protrusion of his keel by the trough, he despaired that this was the best food he was going to be given. Lukewarm sludge, the type of food you might feed an invalid, or an elder. His talons flexed open and closed at the thought of real food, live food, something that struggled as it died. That way he could adopt its strength and will to live, not just the physical matter of its flesh. The broth, while nourishing, could not pass that vigour on to him.

Over the next few days, the man came and went. Cuinn heard enough from the others beyond the doorway to associate him with the sound ‘Mika’, which was likely a name. Mika was an odd prison guard. He brought food and water and showed Cuinn the midden hole under the nest platform at the back of the little den. He slept in the den every single night, no matter what, blithely revealing defenceless flesh and pale skin to the hungry gaze of Cuinn. Aside from that he did not seem to need or care to interact much with Cuinn. It was not respectful, not at all, but it was honest. It did not make any effort to convince Cuinn that he would be happy here, in his captivity.

As Cuinn’s exhaustion began to purge itself from his bones he grew restless. He managed to jump onto the elevated nest platform, where he ripped open the pillows and discarded the human fabric cases, rejecting its presence at his bed. He arranged the spilled-out straw and sweet hay in an oval, though it was not deep enough to make a depression in the middle, and tried his best to raise some walls in a basket-weave pattern.

The next morning, as Mika rose and pulled his cloak back on, his dark eyes flickered over Cuinn’s body. It was the first night Cuinn had retired to the platform, to higher ground.

Mika said something short and gruff, then opened the door and - rather than letting himself out, he left the door open. Cuinn roused himself, waiting for that opening to slam shut again, but Mika caught the tether instead. He clipped it onto the block just beyond the door, out in the gloomy morning sunlight. Cuinn did not follow. There was no point. What was he to do, stand out on that block perch, answering the human’s beck and call? Not at all. He stayed up on his platform, watching through slitted eyes the comings and goings of the falconers outside, the harpies flitting past. Horses appeared a few times, piquing Cuinn’s hunger, though that was a meal for many harpies to take at once, and he did not trust or respect any of the harpies around him enough to share a hunt with them.

He watched the younger harpies follow their humans around, gazing up at them with sickening trust and adoration. Some received food in reward for allowing the humans to inspect their talons, their keels. the anklets and bells around their legs. Mika moved among them, fetching and carrying but never interacting with a single young harpy long enough for Cuinn to link it with him.

Only when Mika had not been sighted for several hours did Cuinn decide to emerge. It was his idea, not Mika's. And he moved out slowly, hopping down from the platform and slowly emerging into the light. It made his eyes burn; he was already susceptible to bright light and this conspired with the time he'd spent in that den to almost blind him. He walked slowly, without revealing his lack of vision, and felt the character of the lawn change around him. The other harpies which had not flown off to their hunt that day grew quiet. His vision returned in patches, enough to guide him onto the block perch. He settled himself there and pricked his feathers against the wind. Snow swirled in the air but did not settle, not yet.

The dens were spread in a half ring that faced the large castle and smaller hall. Walls enclosed everything, even the lawn, though they were only tall enough to make a barrier to humans .

A brave harpy alighted beside him. A tawny spotted cob, jingling obnoxiously with bells. He displayed no signs of appeasement or peaceful greeting, his eyes making contact far too early for politeness. He stood straight, wings half open, and his tail fluffed out and high. He chattered something, a chick asking to play, and reached up a foot to try to snag one of Cuinn's white feathers.

Cuinn stepped away. The tawny followed. Cuinn hissed softly and this only elicited a surprised look before the tawny simply tried again. Cuinn's subtlety went nowhere and fell on deaf ears. As the inquisitive talons rose again, Cuinn spun and slashed, opening the younger harpy's thigh and scaly lower leg.

That got him. The harpy exploded into flight and fled to the roof of one of the halls, peeping obnoxiously in distress.

The humans returned one by one. They rode in on their horses and some had harpies perched behind them. Mika did not. He returned alongside the others and tied to his saddle was a coiled crawling beast. The monster's head hung limp and it lazily dripped blood and venom down its forked tail. Cuinn's feathers stood on end and he hissed at it as Mika took it past; what use would anybody have for one of those horrible things? Harpies killed them without eating for a reason! Mika rode past with his eyes forward, paying Cuinn no mind.

The harpies came in to roost. Mika was back, his burden set aside somewhere (in the fire, Cuinn hoped). This time he carried a pair of hares which he set down in Cuinn's reach.

The other humans looked uneasy, eyeing Cuinn as though he were as dangerous as the huge serpentine crawler. Why now of all times was he drawing their stares? They'd seen him on the block before he'd been fed.

He ate while continuing to peer around the place, eyeing up the sheer facade of the large building looming behind the hall. That place with its spires and many windows looked to house someone important. Maybe the lord of the land. Humans had leaders like everyone else, though Cuinn's mind wandered at the thought of what a human leader might actually do all day. Humans were lawless and uncontained, without any true king pushing them into their rank lines.

No wonder the place was so raucous and disorganised. They had food aplenty but no hunters catching anything but useless evil, and all sorts of harpies reduced to idle fluttering. The air of the place suggested a ruler but Cuinn had not seen him.

Mika's huff of breath sounded by his ear. Cuinn hissed softly, little more than a formality at this point. Mika paid it no mind, as ever. He unsheathed his fleshy pale hand from the thick furs he wore over it and touched it to Cuinn's front. The fingers delved under a tract of feathers, and the edge of one of the square fingernails dug in briefly. Cuinn's hiss was low and rolling, but stretched out into pleasure at the welcome scratch.

Mika felt the edge of Cuinn's keel. He made no attempt to hide it, not that it needed confirming at this point that he was trying to heal Cuinn's starvation for reasons unknown. The keel still made an uncomfortable shape through the skin, awkward when Cuinn wanted to lie on his front, but there was a new layer softening it just a little. Mika withdrew his hand and brought it up, briefly, to scratch under Cuinn's chin.

It was too much. Cuinn pulled his head away, straightening so that on the perch and with his long neck extended, he was not within Mika's reach. He brought his talonful of hare up higher to continue eating.

The meal was thoroughly mundane but the eyes on him sharpened until he had swallowed the last of the bones. After that there came a gradual lessening of attention, eyes turned away.

And Cuinn discovered why momentarily; the other harpies were fed similar meals and the yard was embroiled in a chaotic war. They mantled over their paltry meat scraps as if they would be attacked, and not even the humans they simpered over could come close. Hissing and screeching filled the yard, humans in thicker padding than usual ducking and flinching as their horse-drawn cart of meat was mobbed. The mudhawks behaved like infants, chicks who squalled and fought to eat before their nest siblings, as if the food would be yanked away. Cuinn slunk back into his den. No use in sticking around.

Up on his perch and with daylight still lying across his feathers, he found the will to preen for the first time in many moon cycles. He would not be shown up by those squalling chicks. Mika looked in more than once as he continued on his duties, at one stage bringing a bale of new straw for nest material.

While Cuinn wove the new straw into the downy depression of his nest, Mika shut the door behind him and bedded down against the door frame.

As darkness and cold gripped the den like ice crushing the outer bark of a tree, Cuinn's fluffed up feathers trapped more warmth than before, but not enough. The winter rolled in faster than he could recover, and after an hour or so hunched and shivering he dropped down from the platform. The swivel on the tether clinked softly as it dragged across the ground, but Mika lay still and on his side, ensconced in his thick furs. Cuinn stepped onto him, ignoring the grunt as Mika roused, and lowered himself down onto his front so that he lay on top of the human. Mika said something in a meandering, sleepy tone. Cuinn ignored him, perfectly satisfied to use the human as a massive heat source without being too sentimental about it. Needs must.

When sleep came he didn't notice it, drifting into a soft continuation of his waking state almost indistinguishable from it. In his dream, Cuinn's beak slid out of its holster on the roof of his mouth, and when morning dragged him back awake he was sharp and itching all over with mingled hunger and shame.

Mika nudged at him, a small, blunt hand that touched the curve of Cuinn's neck. He twisted and bit down on the hand, his beak piercing the skin, and Mika's other hand swung from nowhere to clout Cuinn hard on the side of the head.

Hissing furiously, Cuinn sprang up and retreated to the back of the mews, to the elevated nest. He sat there for the remainder of the morning, glaring at Mika and any human who dared peer in through the door. How dare they. He would batter them if they came close, and any overfamiliarity on their part would be their undoing.

But Mika's behaviour did not change. He returned with his hands gloved, setting down the usual morning bowl of broth, his eyes steady resting on Cuinn.

Wasn't he angry? Cuinn was angry. His talons had gouged tracks in the wood of the platform from his compulsive gripping and scratching. Mika simply set down his bowl and stood up again, leaving the door open once more so that Cuinn could go out to visit the block perch.

Cuinn went out, but not very soon after Mika opened the door. Whether or not Cuinn left his den was not the human's decision. The swirl of bracing air that twisted through the doorway beckoned Cuinn. He hadn't flown in so long.

Out on the block, he drank from the bowl of steaming broth. As ever the humans were bustling around with their horses and the harpies. Any time those creatures got even a scrap of food they became so oddly aggressive that the shrieks had Cuinn desperately scanning the sky for any signs of attackers.

One, a pale grey pen with scarlet eyes, alighted with a flip of her tail on the ground by the block. Her vivideyes fixed on Cuinn's bowl.

Instead of asking or indicating that she would like to share, she instead continued to stare at the bowl. She made a piteous begging noise. Cuinn turned away. He was not a parent and this overgrown chick wouldn't sway him.

His voice rose into a shocked screech but he was too slow to yank the bowl away in time. She caught it in one foot as she shot past him and up, into the grey sky. Broth spilled out over the rim and rained down over Cuinn’s back. The disgusting mess slithered down between his feather tracts as the harpy landed on the roof of the big house.

She sat there forlornly peeping until Cuinn's attention strayed. Mika had appeared on the edge of the yard, a straw fork over his shoulder.

A blur of stony grey, and suddenly the pen grabbed Cuinn's bowl.

He was stepping from foot to foot in his fury, gouging tracks in the block, when Mika returned from one of his unimportant tasks. Cuinn would have bitten him again, only Mika stepped away in time. He glanced down, saw no bowl, and cast Cuinn an expectant look as if to say where is it? Cuinn turned to glare at the harpy on the roof. She had managed to spill more of the broth down one of the shiny clear windows.

Mika hummed quietly and patted Cuinn’s front. He almost earned another bite for that, but Cuinn found it not unwelcome, after his initial shock. Mika was not here to steal from him, but to touch his keel again. It was still prominent, but no longer so pointed that it felt like a blade about to slice through Cuinn’s skin from the inside. Mika pointed at the female harpy and the bowl and said something in his low soft tone, diffusing the prickly agitation just a little.

Then he left to bring Cuinn another bowl. This was much the same as the first, and as Cuinn snatched it off him, Mika produced a damp cloth, and stretched out towards Cuinn. Distracted and satisfied by the broth, Cuinn tolerated the damp patting of the cloth against the feathers of his back and shoulder. Mika, it seemed, was grooming him.

Immediately, Cuinn lunged at her. Stupid creature, to have fallen for obvious bait. He caught her by the wing and neck and forced her down onto the ground by the block, under his talons. She was screeching, her wings thrashing, but she was uncoordinated, accustomed only to attacks from the crawling things on the ground and her flock-mates. Her voice shifted from angry screeching to piteous mewling and subjugated peeps, her eyes on him squinting with defeat.

After another sip from the bowl, the rustling movement on the roof again caught Cuinn’s eye. He set the bowl down, a little away from himself, on the very edge of the block. Mika queried it but received no response other than Cuinn turning away as if disinterested.

Talons scraped against slate roof tiles. The pen harpy was sweeping down and low across the lawn, her feet already swinging forwards in a practised snatch, reaching for the bowl. Mika’s voice rose into a gruff warning sound, telling her no, but he was no match for her speed. She caught the bowl.

Mika shouted something. Another human was running over, the pen harpy’s makeshift parent. Cuinn had no need to press the point. He folded his wings with a satisfied huff and hopped off of her, back onto the perch.

The second human, whose name was Yuriy, helped his harpy up from the sleety lawn. She hid behind him at first, still peeping in confusion, though when she caught Cuinn’s eyes she gaped her beak as if he were a hunting sphinx and not one of her own kind. As well he might have been, to her. Cuinn turned his back. She would not bother him again.

Mika had to speak to Yuriy about the incident. Yuriy was upset at the mistreatment of his harpy - they called her Mriya - and seemed to want Mika to do something. But Mika’s voice was so level and so calm, one hand still on Cuinn’s side as Cuinn sipped from his untouched bowl.

Finally Yuriy thew up his hands and walked away, with the pen, Mriya, trailing along beside him. Mika said nothing. Then, as Cuinn set down the empty bowl and began to clean himself, Mika abruptly reached out and caught the tether clipped to Cuinn’s anklet. It came loose, Mika’s dextrous fingers making short work of the mechanism. The heavy tether fell away, only revealing what a burden it had been in its sudden absence. Cuinn lifted his foot - his tarsus was still bound with an anklet - and cast Mika a long look.

Mika pointed at the sky.

Cuinn’s eyes widened. Another trap? No, it didn’t seem that way. Cuinn could rise into the sky and never see this wretched place again. Mika’s hand drifted close again and tapped Cuinn’s keel, as if to explain his behaviour. Cuinn was no longer on death’s door, the gesture reminded him. Mika had nursed him back to health, enough so that he could toss around the likes of Mriya.

Cuinn had not flown in weeks, beyond the hops up into his nest at night. He spread his wings, still shabby despite his improved health. The first leap into the sky was laborious, his chest muscles pulling down with not quite as much strength as he was used to. Well, he would recover. After a short horizontal drift he got a good few beats in, and the lawn blurred into a wash of grey and brown as he swung upwards. His wingtips clipped the wall of the big house and then he was over it, his wings spread to their full extent to capture what little glide material might remain in the wintry air. There wasn’t much, and he sank again to land on the slate roof of the big house, to more easily plan his next venture.

Mika stood by the den, watching curiously. It occurred to Cuinn that if he left, he could not take Mika with him. And even if that were possible, he could not go back to his own flock, not without unseating Thunder Strike on the Ama, but that would be an impossibility in his current state. The forest flocks would not have him either. Like it or not, he had to stay here, among this flock, at least for the time being. Mika would care for him.

The other harpies were deeply distressed by Cuinn's new sentinel post on the roof for the remainder of the day. They would flutter up clumsily, ready to perch, spot Cuinn, and then veer away with alarmed squawks. Very different to how it had been in the forest, where other harpies avoiding him would have been an immense improvement.

But it couldn't last, not really. As the evening closed in, the harpies had plucked up enough courage to land two wing-lengths away from him with their meals to eat. He ignored them; they were nothing to him. He had already evaluated the flock for any that might have posed a threat, any that might have thought themselves future kings, and there were none. They hardly seemed to understand what he was. This place had no king but him.

[jennamoran]

The Far Roofs

cover art by Isip Xin

Hi!

Today I'm going to talk a little bit more about my forthcoming RPG, the Far Roofs. I've previously talked about

general principles,

the rats,

and the campaign.

Today, I want to talk about the Mysteries.

Up on the distant roofs, you see, the rats hunt, and are hunted, by these ... things. These vast, impossible god-monsters.

The Mysteries.

These things that are as much experiences as beings.

I like to anchor them to real-world myths. That's mostly an authorial choice, rather than something intrinsic to their character---

I think if I named them all in some made-up language of my own, called them all things like, I dunno, Alolitha or Eidumir, then they'd come across as cooler ... but also harder to get a handle on.

You'd have to be immersed in the setting to really get what they're about.

So I give most of them a byname that's more accessible. Something like Harpy, Hoop Snake, Lennan-Shee---whatever---so that you can tap into your memories or impressions of real-world mythology and the work of fantasists and cultural tropes and monster manuals from other games and the stories of your childhood and all of that.

Even still, they are vast things.

You might be forgiven, if I just named them without that prelude, in thinking that they seem vast to the rats because the rats are small. Thinking, perhaps, that you could fight off a Mystery like Jackalope, say, or Hippocampus ... if you were lucky, or had a gun ... whereas a rat might have a harder time.

The thing is, to walk in the realm of myth is to lose your grounding in the world. On the Far Roofs you can't rely on your ability to frame a story or a conflict through a rationalistic lens. The Mysteries are not physical creatures of a certain size, but rather the animating spirits of dramatic, life-changing experiences. Like the starring monster of a horror movie, or divinity that visits you in dreams, it's loosely possible to pay them off, or punch them out, or argue with them about Naruto, or whatever, but you can't really extrapolate out from that to resolve whatever underlying problem they can be.

Jackalope isn't a thing you shoot, or whatever:

It's a thing you encounter on dark nights, sometimes, and can't ever really prove you've seen. Maybe you don't even encounter it, just ... find its tracks.

It's not a conflict you can easily rewrite.

As for something like Harpy ... she is dead, the rats have killed her ... and even dead and disembodied your fate is very likely in her hands.

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This kind of thing is why the rats are valid protagonists in this world:

In the face of the Mysteries, there's not much difference between the standings of a human and a rat. We are all such small, imperiled things.

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Each of the Mysteries is tied to some internal state. Some mood or emotion or whatever. It's not clear how much that's true, and how much that's a game convention, and how much that's how the rats, who you're going to be getting most of your basic information from, understand them.

... but it's at least a little bit "all three."

This is, fundamentally, an authorial choice. The Far Roofs is an expressionist game. It's a game about emotion bleeding out into reality, about moods and experiences taking on physical or quasi-physical form in the world or narrative around us. So that's part of why I made the Mysteries like this.

The other part is, if you want to make up your own Mysteries, it helps a lot that you can start with an internal state.

Deciding to make up "Centaur" as a Mystery is kind of boring. I think.

Deciding to make a Mystery named Centaur that is on some level "about" mind-body duality or immersion in the body, or wisdom, or the post-exercise endorphin mood, or having ADHD ("I'm stuck on a horse that's going where it wants"), or whatever ... that's a bit more interesting.

Starting with a mood you want to talk about, I think, like ... Sorrow ... and figuring out what mythical entity best matches that (I'd go with Banshee), and then figuring out how its stories work from there:

I think that's the most interesting option of them all.

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I do give some of them fancy made-up names, to be clear. I'm not opposed to having an Alolitha or Eidumir or whatever around! But that's not the default or primary approach.

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In theory, the game expects you to make up most of the Mysteries you encounter.

In practice, there's a built-in campaign that features a bunch of them, so there are enough worked examples in the book that you might never have to come up with one from scratch:

there's solid summaries of about three dozen, plus

in-depth writeups of Goblin, Harpy, Hoop Snake, Unicorn, and four other Mysteries that map a bit less precisely to established myths.

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There's a lot in those in-depth writeups, but my favorite parts are the pages that are just questions the GM can ask the players when that Mystery is at hand.

(Questions, sometimes statements, sometimes actions or power uses, but ... it's the questions that I love.)

I have spent the better part of a decade working on power sets for spiritual, mystical, and divine entities, and you can find some cool rules toys for the more purely mechanically minded here. I like how their game-mechanical writeups all turned out.

... but in both practice and theory, none of that is as cool to me as the list of asides and questions the GM can crib from when the Mystery is involved. Simple stuff like "the wind is rising" or "speak to me of solitude." More nuanced stuff like GM-as-Death playing a spade suit card and saying, "tell me of a nasty accident, and how you avoided or survived it." In every case, a bunch of options.

As a reader, I love the detailed mechanics more. As a reader, I don't really care that much about the actual how of how the Mysteries do things but I love that there is a how. It tickles an important part of my brain, deep down.

... but when I'm actually GMing, I love the lists of phenomena and questions so very much.

I am admittedly usually in a constant state of panic when GMing, so perhaps I get more value out of both the cue card function and the ability to hand off responsibility to the player than others would.

Perhaps.

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If you're curious about those examples:

The wind rises when you're dealing with Harpy because a lot of her story is the story about how being on the Far Roofs is like falling, like flying, like losing the stable influence of the ground. So naturally you feel the air. You feel the motion. It arises. Naturally you become isolated, or at least experience intermittent solitude, because the ground ultimately mediates almost every social connection and interaction.

Maybe not love or skydiving teams, I guess.

When Death's presence is weighty in your life ... well, it's in your life, so you're probably not dead yet, but stuff happens! You nearly died!

I like that you don't have to think through that theory when playing with this stuff, but it's still all right there, implicit, presented in a couple of different forms.

That's what I have to say tonight!

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From the Cutting Room Floor for this Post:

... there is still a part of my brain that loves it when you write up the power that lets the Christian God be three species of hypostasis and a single ousia, or whatever, and loves it even more when you can use the same power to combine three mechs.

I have not written up that specific power, though, to be clear, as I rarely put either Christianity or mecha in my games (albeit, see Invisible Mecha) ...

[na-bird-of-the-day]

BOTD: Collared Forest-Falcon

Photo: Dario Taraborelli

"Like the Harpy Eagle, the Collared Forest-Falcon is adapted for ambush hunting, with short, wide wings and a long tail that allow for agile maneuvers through thick undergrowth. It hunts by sitting quietly on a concealed perch until it hears prey, then pounces down on it. It also pursues prey on foot along large branches or on the ground. The Collared Forest-Falcon may even be seen following army ant swarms to capture prey flushed by the ants."

- American Bird Conservancy