#Winged Creatures

[killyridols]

the way eternal by naudline pierre, 2023, oil on canvas, 40 x 30 inches

[nemfrog]

Winged beast. The dragon of Wantley. 1902 ed.

Internet Archive

[n1ght0f-nyx]

harpies and haircuts

bennie (harpy oc) x gn reader

after a few months of living in a cave with your harpy lover, your hair had gotten much longer and unruly, but your harpy lover doesn't understand humans and how different they are from harpies

tags- gn reader, harpy male, slight panic, divider by cafekitsune

sorry about the hiatus- ive had a horrible flu, i am now back and begging for requests

The wind howled outside the cave as snow flurries swept past the entrance. You sat cross-legged by the small mirror Bennie had scavenged for you from who knows where, trying to get a handle on your unruly hair. It had grown far too long for comfort, and living in a cave halfway up a snowy mountain didn’t exactly provide opportunities for regular trims. The pair of worn scissors you held glinted faintly in the dim light filtering in from the cave entrance.

Bennie had gone out earlier in the day, as he often did, flitting around the mountainside and the nearby forest to scavenge for things or just explore. You could always tell when he was nearby from the soft sound of his wings or the sharp whistle he let out when he saw something interesting. You smiled at the thought. His fascination with human culture had been one of the things that brought the two of you together, but his understanding of it was...let’s say unique.

After brushing through your hair one last time, you took the scissors and started to carefully snip away at the ends. Small strands of hair fell to the cave floor, and you let out a satisfied sigh. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do the job. As you worked, the steady sound of Bennie’s flapping wings drew closer, signaling that he was coming back.

Before you could finish the last few cuts, Bennie landed heavily just inside the cave, a gust of cold air following him in. His sharp, talon-like feet scratched against the stone floor as he shook out his wings and bounded toward you, a wide smile on his face.

"I find...more things!" he called, holding up a tattered old blanket he’d discovered somewhere. His feathers rustled with excitement as he made his way to you. But the moment his wide, golden eyes fell on the scissors in your hand and the strands of hair on the ground, his entire body froze.

You barely had time to look up before Bennie’s face contorted with panic. His wings flared out dramatically, and his feathers puffed up in alarm. “Y-you... hurt?” he squawked, rushing over, his large hands trembling as they reached for you.

Confused, you set the scissors down and blinked up at him. “Hurt? No, Bennie, I’m not—”

He cut you off with a shrill sound, his hands hovering anxiously near your head, as if he was scared to touch you. “Hair—cut! Cut! No cut! It hurt, yes? Hurt bad?”

Realization dawned, and you sighed gently, smiling despite his panic. He didn’t understand. Bennie wasn’t used to the idea of humans cutting their hair; to him, it must have seemed as if you were intentionally damaging yourself. Harpies were incredibly sensitive about their feathers, and any damage to them was painful, so of course he thought you were in pain too.

“Bennie, it’s okay,” you reassured him softly, reaching up to gently touch his hand. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m not like you, remember? Humans cut their hair all the time.”

His brow furrowed, eyes still wide with worry. “Hair...no hurt?” he asked, his voice dropping into a lower, more uncertain tone. “But...but feathers! It like feathers, yes? Hurt like feathers?”

You shook your head and pulled his hand down to rest against your head, where your hair had been trimmed. His touch was hesitant, as if he was afraid to hurt you, but you guided his fingers gently through your hair. “It’s not like feathers for us,” you explained. “My hair doesn’t hurt when I cut it. It grows back.”

Bennie stared at you, then down at the scattered strands of hair on the floor, still visibly uneasy. His hand remained in your hair, but his sharp claws never pressed against your scalp, as if he thought he might accidentally make things worse. “Grow...back?” he echoed, still trying to process the idea. “Not broken?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not broken,” you confirmed softly. “Just shorter.”

For a long moment, Bennie stayed silent, staring at your hair, his face scrunched up in concentration. His fluffy wings slowly lowered from their defensive position, and his feathers flattened out. His other hand joined the first, carefully running through your hair, inspecting it with the same intensity he would if he were checking his own feathers for damage. After a while, his tense expression softened, though confusion still lingered in his golden eyes.

“Humans...weird,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

You laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the cave. “Yeah, we are,” you agreed, pulling him closer to you. “But you still love me, right?”

Bennie blinked, his large eyes focusing on you again. His face softened further, a shy smile creeping onto his lips as he sat down beside you. “Yes...love you,” he mumbled, his wings shifting slightly as he tucked them in closer. “Even if...confusing.”

His hand, still tangled in your hair, remained there as he watched you with a fond expression. He was still learning so much about humans, about you, but every time he stumbled on something he didn’t understand, he approached it with the same childlike wonder and curiosity that you found so endearing. It wasn’t always easy—there were moments like this, where his confusion or lack of understanding led to panic—but the two of you always managed to work through it together.

“Next time,” Bennie said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you, “I help. Make sure...not broken.”

You laughed softly again, reaching up to take his hand in yours. “Deal,” you replied with a smile. “But I promise it’s not broken.”

Bennie still looked skeptical, but the panic had faded from his expression, and now his eyes were filled with warmth. He leaned in closer, his wings brushing lightly against your back as he nuzzled his head against your neck, his sharp beak-like nose pressing gently into your skin. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and content. “I trust.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, your fingers tangled in his, the cold outside forgotten as you leaned into the warmth of his feathery body. Bennie still had a lot to learn about humans, but with each passing day, you grew closer, teaching him not only about your world but about how much love could exist between two very different beings.

And even though Bennie didn’t fully understand why humans did things like cut their hair, you knew that he would always be there to make sure you were okay—confused or not.

[powerlineprincess]

Ummm how about Miss Mysterious Winged Creature outside of The Bristol Zoo Project<3

[friskafriskito]

An attack on @hydrus101 on artfight of their character, Wulfric (left)! I’m not used to drawing backgrounds, so I was a bit nervous about how this would turn out. But I’m pretty happy with the result, and it was fun!

But look they’re hanging out with my centaur grandpa, Silas (right). Two old donkeys. c’:

Please check out their Instagram as well!

___

You can find me most places as FriskaFriskito or Friskishdrawings!

For donation commissions for Palestine click here

[vera-simik]

Day #24 - Human -> non-human: Esme

I wanted to give her this Siamese cat point coloration so much :D

[i-am-trans-gwender]

Shout out to whoever looked at a reptile and thought "be a lot cooler if it had wings and breathed fire."

[artimis-anime]

Drew this a while back, i was so proud of how it turned out when it was based on this

Lollll

[redriot666]

Watching winged creatures / fragments for the first time 🤖 will update when im done >:)

[wanderlustwineblissblog]

[nemfrog]

Lion with bat wings. The man elephant; a book of African fairy tales. 1906.

Internet Archive

[1-1-s1ay-2-2]

Oh, to be a little bee slurping up a sensational spot of liquidated sugar from atop a nearby picnic table, only to flee but return again unto its sweetly slayed position in the sun. 🐝

[the-dragon-girl-27]

It is the middle of a Sunday afternoon. You have nothing on, and aren't expecting visitors, deliveries or post.

Unexpectedly, there is a knock at the door.

you are greeted by...... her

[complicateddaisies]

What would it be like to fly?