#tag: harpy

[mxnsterbabe]

Female Harpy/Female Reader

SFW

Wordcount: 3,451

Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You've travelled a long way to learn music from the legendary harpy. She'll teach you, in exchange for your company.

Evelyn stood at the base of the cave, her heart racing with nerves. The entrance loomed before her, dark and cold.

It led to Persephone, a once-famous musician who had lived in Oceanhall. Evenlyn had heard so many stories that it was difficult to tell fact from rumours—how she a tragedy drove her into hiding. Now, she lived alone in the wild, away from prying eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn stepped inside. The cave was cool and slightly damp at first, but as she ventured further, it felt surprisingly homey. The walls were decorated with paintings, while the floor was covered in soft moss and woven rugs. Instruments of all kinds were scattered around; a violin in the corner, a harp peeking out from another room.

“Hello?” Evelyn called out, her voice echoing softly against the stone walls. She took another step forward, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. “Persephone?”

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of soft footsteps approaching. From the shadows, a woman appeared. She hovered by the edge of the round doorway, eyes narrowed.

She was stunning, with cascading red hair flowed into equally vibrant feathers. Her eyes were a piercing shade of green, regarding you quietly. Powerful wings, lined with the same vibrant feathers, folded behind her.

Evelyn took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I’m here to learn from you,” she said, her voice steady despite her nerves. “I’ve heard that you’ve taught people in the past.”

Persephone’s eyes narrowed slightly, a shadow passing over her delicate features. “That was before, in my old life as a celebrity. I don’t teach anymore. I just want to be left alone.”

Evelyn felt a pang of sympathy. She could sense the pain behind Persephone’s words. “I understand that you’ve been through a lot,” she said gently. “I’ve come a long way because I believe in your music. I want to learn from the best.”

Persephone’s gaze softened a little, but her expression remained guarded. “Why should I let you? What makes you different from anyone else who’s sought me out?”

Evelyn took another step closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “Because I’m willing to listen and understand. I don’t just want to learn your music; I want to learn from you. Please, give me a chance.”

Persephone studied her for a long moment, the silence stretching between them. Finally, she sighed. “Very well. I will allow it, but on one condition.”

Evelyn’s heart leapt with hope. “Anything.”

“You must stay here for a month,” Persephone said, her tone firm. “Without leaving. You need to prove that you’re dedicated to learning and that you respect my solitude.”

A month? It was a daunting request, but Evelyn knew she couldn’t back down now. “I can do that,” she replied, determination in her voice. “I need to go home first, to tell my family where I’ll be.”

Persephone nodded, a hint of a smile touching her lips. “Very well. You may go, but if you truly want to learn from me, you must be back by sundown on Sunday. No later.”

Evelyn nodded, relief and excitement flooding her. “Thank you, Persephone. I promise I’ll be back.”

With a final look towards Persephone, Evelyn turned and made her way out of the cave.

The journey back through the woods was long and difficult, the path winding through dense forest and over rocky terrain. The sun dipped lower in the sky, weak beams of light filtering through the foliage.

By the time she reached the edge of the forest, the sky was painted with the warm hues of sunset. Evelyn’s home, a little cottage on the outskirts of Oceanhall, came into view just as twilight began to settle. She hurried the last few steps, her heart racing as she thought about how to break the news to her family.

Inside, the familiar scent of dinner greeted her. Her parents were seated at the kitchen table, her younger brother already halfway through his meal. They looked up as she entered, smiles of welcome turning to curiosity as they took in her serious expression.

“Evelyn, you’re just in time for dinner,” her mother said, setting an extra plate on the table. “Come, sit down.”

Evelyn took a deep breath and joined them at the table, her mind racing with how to begin. “I need to talk to you all about something important,” she said, her voice steady despite the rapid pounding of her heart.

Her father raised an eyebrow, setting down his fork. “What is it, love?”

“I’ve found Persephone,” Evelyn began, seeing their eyes widen in surprise. “She’s agreed to teach me music, but there’s a condition. I have to stay with her for a month, without leaving.”

The room fell silent. Her family exchanged worried glances before her mother spoke up, concern etched in her features. “A month; Evelyn, what about your job? What if something happens to you up there?”

Evelyn felt a lump form in her throat but pressed on. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Do you know how difficult it was to track her down?”

“How do you know she’s who she says?”

Evelyn frowned. “I… I just know.” It was a surety she felt deep in her soul.

Her father leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “How can you trust that Persephone won’t do something dangerous? You’ll be alone with her for a month, Ev.”

Evelyn reached across the table, taking her father’s hand. “I trust her, and I need you to trust me. This is something I need to do, Dad.”

Her younger brother looked up, brows scrunched. “What if we need you?”

Evelyn’s heart ached at the sight of his concern, but she gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be back before you know it. This is my dream, and I need to follow it. Please understand.”

Her mother sighed, tears glistening in her eyes. “We just want you to be safe, Evelyn, but I know you; you’ll do it anyway.”

Evelyn stood and embraced her mother, her own eyes misting with tears. It wasn’t quite acceptance, but she knew Mum wouldn’t try to stop her.

“Thank you, Mum. I promise I’ll be back, and I’ll be safe.”

Her father rose and wrapped them both in a hug, big arms easily wrapping around them both. “Go chase your dream.”

***

Evelyn arrived at the cave just as the sun was setting, the last rays of light casting a warm glow over the rocky entrance. She was exhausted and cranky from the long journey, her duffel bag heavy with the weight of her belongings. As she approached, she saw Persephone waiting outside, her silhouette framed by the light.

Persephone’s soft features and delicate face contrasted sharply with the stern scowl as she spotted Evelyn. Her red hair flowed gently in the evening breeze. She was radiant.

“You’re just in time,” Persephone said, her voice cold. “Come inside.”

Evelyn followed her into the cave, the familiar sight of the cosy interior greeting her. Persephone led her to a small side-room. It was simple, with no bed, but a pile of pillows created a makeshift sleeping area that looked surprisingly comfortable.

“This will be your space,” Persephone said, her tone clipped. “We start tomorrow.”

Evelyn nodded, too tired to respond. She set down her bag and sank into the pillows, which were almost as comfy as a real bed. As she lay there staring at the ceiling, she drifted off with the image of Persephone in her mind.

***

The first lesson was tougher than Evelyn had imagined. Persephone was an impatient voice coach, demanding precision and excellence from the start. Evelyn struggled to keep up, her voice cracking under the pressure. Persephone’s sharp corrections stung, but she pushed through, determined to prove herself.

“You must focus,” Persephone snapped, her wings fluttering with agitation. “Again.”

***

As the days passed, Evelyn found herself gradually improving. Persephone remained distant and stern, but there were moments that hinted at something.. more. During one lesson, as Evelyn hit a particularly difficult note perfectly, she caught a glimpse of pride in Persephone’s eyes.

“Better,” Persephone acknowledged, her tone still formal but softer.

Evelyn’s heart swelled at the small victory, spurring her on.

***

In the evenings, they would sometimes sit outside the cave, the landscape offering a moment of peace. Evelyn shared stories of her family and her life, trying to bridge the gap between them. Persephone listened silently, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t ask Evelyn to stop.

One night, after a particularly gruelling day, Evelyn played a simple tune on the violin, hoping to lighten the mood. Persephone watched her, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, though it never fully formed.

***

The lessons continued, each day blending into the next. Evelyn’s voice grew stronger, more confident, under Persephone’s rigorous guidance. Despite the challenges, she found herself falling for the harpy. There was something captivating about Persephone’s beauty, her strength, and the glimpses of vulnerability she sometimes showed.

During one practice session, Evelyn stumbled over a note, her frustration bubbling over. Persephone sighed, her stern façade cracking just a little.

“Take a break,” she said softly. “You’re pushing too hard.”

Evelyn nodded, grateful for the reprieve. As she rested, she noticed Persephone watching her, a flicker of concern in her eyes.

***

Three weeks passed, and a strange routine settled in. Evelyn and Persephone worked together every day, the initial coldness between them thawing slowly. Persephone remained distant, but there were moments that gave Evelyn hope. She cherished these small breakthroughs, heart lightening.

One evening, as the sun set and the cave was bathed in a golden glow, Evelyn sang a song she had written for Persephone. The melody drifted through the trees, slow and soft, as Evelyn watched Persephone from the corner of her eyes.

Persephone listened, her expression softening. When the song ended, she looked at Evelyn with an intensity that took her breath away.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Persephone said, her voice unusually gentle. “Rest well.”

Evelyn nodded, a smile playing on her lips. As she lay down in her cosy corner that evening, she felt a sense of contentment she hadn’t expected.

***

On the last day, Evelyn woke up early, determined to do something special. She gathered the few ingredients she had and prepared breakfast for Persephone. She wasn’t quite sure how Persephone usually got her food—she had never seen her forage or hunt—but she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she focused on making a meal that would hopefully bring a smile to the harpy’s face.

As the aroma of cooking filled the cave, Evelyn set the table with care. She had managed to put together a modest spread: fresh bread and homemade jam, chamomile tea, and a fruit salad made with berries and yogurt. She even added a small vase with a wildflower she had found, a touch of colour to brighten the morning.

Persephone appeared just as Evelyn added the finishing touches, her red hair and vibrant feathers catching the soft morning light. Today, there was something different about her. She looked almost...nervous. Evelyn wondered if it was the impending end of their time together that was unsettling her.

“Good morning,” Evelyn greeted with a warm smile. “I made breakfast.”

Persephone nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”

They sat down to eat, and Persephone began to outline the plan for the day. “We’ll work on your final performance piece today. It’s important that we—” She paused, glancing towards the cave entrance. The light outside was dim, the sky a murky grey that promised a storm.

Persephone’s expression grew serious. “It looks like a storm is coming. It won’t be safe for you to travel home today.”

Evelyn followed her gaze to the ominous sky, the wind already beginning to pick up. “Safety first.”

They ate breakfast in a comfortable silence. Evelyn couldn’t help but steal glances at Persephone, admiring her delicate features. Despite her stern exterior, there was a softness in her eyes that Evelyn had come to adore. She wondered if Persephone felt the same way—the sadness of parting, the hope of what might come next.

As they finished up breakfast, the first gust of wind billowed into the cave. It howled, and rain began to lash against the cave entrance.

Persephone seemed lost in thought, her usual composure slightly shaken. Evelyn reached out, placing her hand gently over Persephone’s.

“It’s okay,” Evelyn said softly. “These storms never last long.”

Persephone looked up, her green eyes meeting Evelyn’s. For a moment, all the barriers she had built seemed to fall away. She gave a small nod, her hand squeezing Evelyn’s in silent gratitude.

Suddenly Persephone stood, her wings rustling softly. “We should start your final lesson,” she said, her voice steady.

The storm raged on outside as Persephone and Evelyn began their final lesson. Persephone's demeanor was more intense than usual, her instructions sharp and precise. Evelyn could sense the urgency in her voice, the determination to make this last lesson count.

"Again," Persephone commanded, her wings rustling with agitation. "You need to perfect this."

Evelyn’s voice strained as she repeated the lyrics, her throat aching. Persephone pushed her harder than ever before, not allowing a single break. Every mistake was met with immediate correction, and the pressure was immense. Evelyn’s exhaustion grew, but she refused to falter.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Persephone held up a hand, signaling for Evelyn to stop. “You’ve done it,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’ve perfected it.”

Evelyn panted, wiping the sweat from her brow. She should have felt a sense of pride, but all she felt was a dull ache. It was over. There was no more reason for her to stay.

She hummed the first few notes again, letting it echo through the cave. Her throat still stung, but it was worth it.

Persephone’s expression softened, and she seemed to hesitate before speaking. “This is my favourite song,” she admitted quietly. “It’s a love song. I used to make all my students learn it.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened. “Why is it your favourite?”

Persephone looked away, her gaze distant as she gathered her thoughts. “It was the song that played at my wedding—well, it was supposed to. I was left at the altar, and that song was the last thing I heard before I ran away.”

Evelyn felt a pang of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Persephone. I didn’t know.”

Persephone took a deep breath, her wings drooping slightly. “After that, I couldn’t face my fans, the press, or the ridicule. I retreated here to escape it all. The love song that once brought me joy became a painful reminder of what I lost.”

Evelyn stepped closer, her heart aching for Persephone. “You still teach it. Why?”

Persephone’s eyes met hers, and for the first time, Evelyn saw a flicker of something in her green gaze. “It’s a beautiful song,” she said simply. “Despite everything, I still love it. Teaching it to you has help me to remember the good times before the pain.”

Evelyn reached out and gently took Persephone’s hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been.”

Persephone’s grip tightened slightly, and she gave a small, bittersweet smile. “You’ve learned well, Evelyn. Your voice carries the emotion this song deserves. It’s not just about the notes or the words; it’s about the feeling behind them.”

Evelyn nodded, feeling a deep connection to Persephone’s story and the song they had worked so hard on. “I’ll make sure to honour it,” she promised. “I’ll never forget what you’ve taught me.”

Persephone’s eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. “Thank you, Evelyn. You’ve done more than just learn to sing. You’ve reminded me why I love music.”

As they stood there, the storm outside seemed to quiet.

Evelyn glanced toward the cave entrance, then back at Persephone. “Thank you for everything,” she said softly, a hint of reluctance in her voice. “I suppose this is it. Time for me to go.”

Persephone’s expression grew serious. “No, not yet. It’s safer to wait until the storm fully passes. Stay one more night.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them thickening. Evelyn’s mind raced, her heart heavy with the thought of leaving Persephone behind. She knew she couldn’t go without expressing what she felt. Gathering her courage, she stepped closer.

“Persephone,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Before she could second-guess herself, Evelyn closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to Persephone’s. The kiss was filled with desperation and longing, a surge of affection that had been building up throughout their time together. Evelyn’s hands trembled as they cupped Persephone’s face, her heart pounding in her chest.

Persephone froze for a moment, then responded, her wings enveloping Evelyn in a gentle embrace. The kiss deepened, each of them pouring their unspoken feelings into it. Evelyn felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting to leave Persephone’s side.

When they finally pulled away, both were breathless. Evelyn’s eyes searched Persephone’s, finding a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else—something hopeful. “I don’t want to leave you,” Evelyn whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You deserve better than this. You deserve to be happy and not shut yourself away from the world.”

Persephone’s gaze softened, a single tear escaping down her cheek. “Evelyn, I...”

Evelyn shook her head, her hands still cradling Persephone’s face. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that you’ve changed my life, and I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me.”

Persephone’s wings tightened around Evelyn, her expression a blend of vulnerability and gratitude. “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” she murmured. “I never expected... this.”

Evelyn smiled, brushing away the tear on Persephone’s cheek. “Neither did I, but here we are.”

They stood there for a while longer, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the storm outside now a distant memory. In that quiet, intimate moment, Evelyn knew she had made the right choice. No matter what the future held, she was determined to help Persephone find the happiness she deserved.

Finally, Persephone spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Stay with me tonight. We’ll figure out the rest together.”

Evelyn nodded, her heart swelling with hope. “I’d like that.”

Persephone took Evelyn's hand gently, leading her deeper into the cave to a room that Evelyn hadn’t seen before. The bedroom was coay and warm, with walls adorned with more bright paintings, and a large nest-like bed filled with soft pillows and blankets. The flickering light from a small lantern cast a soft glow over the space.

Persephone turned to Evelyn, her green eyes reflecting a mix of tenderness and uncertainty. “Stay here with me tonight,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Evelyn nodded, her heart swelling with affection. They moved to the bed, and as they lay down, Persephone wrapped her wings around them both, creating a warm cocoon. Evelyn nestled closer, feeling Persephone’s steady heartbeat against her.

The closeness was both exhilarating and comforting. Evelyn felt a rush as she rested her head on Persephone’s chest, their legs entwined. Persephone’s fingers gently traced patterns on Evelyn’s back, sending shivers of delight through her.

“Thank you for staying,” Persephone murmured, her breath warm against Evelyn’s hair.

Evelyn lifted her head, looking into Persephone’s eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Their faces were so close now, and Evelyn felt a magnetic pull, her lips brushing softly against Persephone’s. The kiss was tender at first, exploring the newness of it all.

Persephone’s hands moved to cradle Evelyn’s face, her touch gentle yet somehow possessive. Evelyn responded by wrapping her arms around Persephone’s neck, pulling her even closer. The kiss grew more passionate, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in each other.

Breaking the kiss, Evelyn rested her forehead against Persephone’s, both of them breathing heavily. The air was charged, but there was no rush.

“Persephone,” Evelyn whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “I care about you, you know that right? It’s not just about the music anymore.”

Persephone’s eyes softened, a smile touching her lips. “I know.”

They shifted slightly, settling into a comfortable embrace. Evelyn’s hand found its way to Persephone’s hair, gently stroking the soft locks. Persephone sighed contentedly, her wings tightening protectively around them.

In the quiet space, Evelyn felt at home.

[airitree]

Birth of a Dragon!

🥚Where the creatures come out to rejoice for the first hatch in many years. There the little dragon is met with a circle of strange faces and colors, when it has only seen darkness and red…🥚

[Prints available on my shop!]

[sirguyofdykesborn]

girls

[filurig]

ALSO finally. updated nattramn ref somewhat. their anatomy change is a bit subtle but i did make them More Creatura i will say.

[pluck-heartstrings]

My humble offering to @missterious-figure’s bird boys.

They are…so pretty. I’m dazzled. I’m blind.

[lindewyrm]

faeification beam

[sanctus-ingenium]

heads-up display visor

[pulim-v]

Watching and dreaming spoilers!

[deadwardiann]

owl house is pretty dead now, but i got inks for xmas and harpy eda is fun 2 draw. haven’t posted art on here in almost a year, but this is something :,)

[pocketwei]

and all around the night sang out like cockatoos 🦩❄️

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Harpy/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 2,918 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You catch a cute and bashful harpy in the book shop one day. Later, at a book signing for your favourite author, you realise they’re one and the same.

In the softly lit maze of the bookshop, you meandered between the shelves, your fingertips grazing the spines of countless books. The smell of paper and binding glue filled the air. This was your retreat, the place you went to when the world got too much.

As you approached the fantasy section, your excitement grew; today was the release of a novel you'd eagerly awaited. Just as you reached out to grab the last copy from the shelf, another hand got there simultaneously, lightly brushing against yours.

"Oops, sorry about that," came a light-hearted apology from beside you.

You looked up to see a harpy, all dark auburn feathers and curly red hair. He was beautiful—sharp features softened by gentle brown eyes, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

"No worries," you responded, your initial embarrassment giving way to curiosity. "Looks like we have the same taste."

His smile widened. "I guess we do. I’m Antal," he said, holding out the book to you. "You take the last copy, I was only looking.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Please?”

His hand extended, offering you the book. A bright orange cover stared back up at you, a phoenix with her wings spread wide.

“Please, take it,” he insisted, claws gently curled over the cover.

You hesitated, the politeness ingrained in you bubbling to the surface. “Are you sure? I mean, we both spotted it at the same time.”

Antal’s smile didn’t waver as he pushed the book a little closer to you. “Absolutely. I hope you enjoy it,” he added, and you swore his cheeks tinged pink beneath the feathers.

Accepting the book, you couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks, then. I appreciate it.”

As he watched you slide the book into your bag, a thoughtful look crossed his face. “Any other books you’re hunting for today?” he asked, a curious tilt to his head. His dark eyes were enormous, with big pupils that made him look a little owlish.

Was he an owl?

Shaking your head, you said, “well, I’ve been trying to get through all the works of Kristoff Varga,” you replied, holding up the new book. It was the latest in a series of four, but there were dozens of other books written by him. “He’s my favourite at the moment, I just can’t get enough.”

Antal’s eyes lit up, cheeks reddening even more. Dammit, it was too cute. “You like his other books?”

“I like them all so far.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” Antal inquired. He didn’t seem to realise that he was leaning in, closer and closer.

You thought for a moment, trying to ignore how close he was. You could taste the coffee on his breath, feel his feathers tickling your shoulder. It made it very difficult to think.

After a moment you said, “I love Silver Skies. You know, the one about the dragon and the orc princess.”

“I love that one too!”

As you and Antal meandered through the aisles, he began to point out other authors whose works he said were similar to Kristoff Varga. You happily ambled alongside him, listening to his smooth, deep voice.

"If you enjoy Varga, you might also like Helena Rook. Her trilogy about the war between night creatures and humans has that same worldbuilding," he suggested, pulling a book with a dark, moody cover from the shelf.

You took the book, flipping it over to read the blurb on the back. Antal's recommendations sparked a new interest, and you added it to the growing pile.

He pointed out a few more, and you ended up needing a basket to hold all of the books. The entire time he chatted away happily, talking about this author and the next, and you found yourself inching unconsciously closer to his side.

As you approached a display of new releases, Antal casually asked, "So, do you have any plans for the weekend? Other than reading all of these books, I suppose."

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you thought he might be leading up to asking you out.

The hopeful part of your mind spun scenarios of continuing these delightful conversations over coffee or at a quiet park.

Except, you were busy.

"Actually, I’m going to Varga’s book signing on Saturday," you answered, watching his reaction closely, trying to gauge his interest. "You should come along; it’s rare to see him in public."

Antal’s face flickered with an unreadable expression before settling into a polite smile. "I’d love to, but I’m already tied up that day," he replied with a small shrug.

You felt a twinge of disappointment. "That’s too bad," you said. "It would have been great to have you there, especially since you appreciate his work so much."

Antal nodded, his smile tinged with a hint of something you couldn't quite place—was it regret? “You’ll have to tell me about it. Maybe I could give you my number?”

“I’d love that.”

The question filled you with a pleasant anticipation. You entered his number carefully, excited hands a little too fast for your own good.

He smiled as you both stored your phones away. “I have to go, I was only going to pop in for a minute. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime soon?”

You shivered at the softness, the gentleness, in his voice. “Yeah, that would be great.”

As you moved to the checkout, you felt a sense of contentment. Antal stood beside you as you paid for your books, almost close enough to touch. It wouldn’t have taken much for you to close the gap, and kiss him.

As you thanked the desk clerk, you sighed. Kissing him! What a silly thought.

With your books bagged and receipt in hand, you both walked towards the exit. Antal held the door open for you. As you stepped outside, the sunlight turned his auburn feathers a gorgeous golden shade.

There was an undeniable grace about him—a fluidity in his movements that, under the sunshine, made him almost ethereal. His shoulders were broad, tapering into narrower hips, covered in a layer of fluffy feathers beneath his low cut top.

You paused outside the bookstore, smiling gently. “See you around?” you asked hopefully.

“Absolutely.”

You didn’t want to say goodbye, but you had to eventually. With a sigh, you offered him a smile before turning to the car park across the street.

You felt his eyes on you as you walked away. A quick glance back confirmed it, and he offered you a parting wave with claw-tipped hands, a gesture that you returned. As he turned to vanish around the corner, you paused for a moment to watch him.

Antal disappeared quickly; he was tall, with gorgeously long legs. Even from a distance, there was something about the way he moved that captivated you—maybe it was the otherness of him, since harpies were so rare in Oceanhall. Maybe it was his sweet personality, his flushed cheeks and shy smile.

Either way, he left an impression that lingered in your thoughts as you unlocked your car and settled inside.

You started the engine, but your mind was still back in the bookstore, replaying your conversation, his laughter, and the ease with which you had opened up to each other.

You really wanted to see him again.

***

You arrived at the bookstore on Saturday, the buzz of excitement obvious as soon as you stepped inside. The queue for Kristoff Varga's book signing snaked through the aisles—a fact that hadn't fully dawned on you until now. Each person in line clutched their copy of his latest novel, their animated conversations filling the air with anticipatory chatter.

Trying to catch a glimpse of Varga at the signing booth proved futile; the crowd was simply too dense, a wall of eager fans blocking any view of the author himself. Feeling slightly overwhelmed, you decided to escape to the relative calm of the bookstore’s café.

As you approached the counter, the barista greeted you with a friendly smile. “What can I get for you today? Something to help with the wait?” he asked, his tone light.

“A flat white, please,” you replied, appreciating the warmth in his greeting. “It’s quite a turnout, isn’t it? I didn’t realise Varga was this popular.”

“Yeah, it’s been non-stop since we opened,” the barista said as he started on your order. “It’s good for business, but I’m running out of hands!” He laughed, handing you your coffee with a flourish.

“Thank you,” you said, taking a sip of the hot beverage, and digging out your card to pay. “I suppose it’s not every day you get a celebrity author here.”

“That’s true. He’s a bit of a recluse, isn’t he? Makes these events all the more special.” The barista wiped down the counter, casting a glance towards the queue. “You might be here for a while. At least it’s a good crowd, all book lovers together.”

You nodded, agreeing, your thoughts drifting to Antal. Throughout the week, you had exchanged messages. He had mentioned being busy today, but a part of you had still hoped he might surprise you and turn up.

With your coffee in hand, you found a table near the window, a spot that offered a view of both the café and the bookstore entrance. Each time the door opened, your gaze lifted, a reflex action fuelled by the hope of seeing Antal walk in. However, as the minutes turned into an hour, the reality set in that he truly wasn't coming.

You took out your phone, typing a quick message to him: it’s packed here! Wish you could’ve seen it. How’s your day going?

Even as you hit send, you felt disappointment and understanding mingle.

As you waited for his response, you sipped your coffee, watching the crowd and wondering about the man behind the author's desk. What would Varga be like? Would he live up to the mental image you had of him?

As the line began to shorten, you decided it was time to join the queue, balancing your coffee carefully as you edged closer to the excited throng of fans. The energy around you was infectious, with snippets of conversation floating over the buzz of the crowd.

"Can you believe we're actually going to meet Kristoff Varga?" exclaimed a young woman ahead of you, her voice pitched high with excitement.

"I know, right? I heard he's a harpy, which is why he hardly ever makes public appearances," her friend replied, the idea clearly adding an extra layer of allure to the event.

You perked up at this, the coincidence striking you as odd. Two harpies in one week? It was rare enough to meet one, given their usual reclusiveness. The thought lingered in your mind as you inched forward, the line’s pace steady but slow.

"He must be quite something to look at, then," someone else chimed in, "All those feathers. And the talons!"

"Yeah, and it’s not just any harpy. They say his feathers change shades with the seasons—how cool is that?" another added, the group nodding in agreement.

As you finally neared the front, you craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive author. There, at the signing booth, you saw him—a figure with striking auburn feathers, his face partly concealed by a black cap. The feathers were glossy under the lights, and strikingly familiar.

No, he couldn’t have been…

"Amazing, isn't it?" the person behind you whispered, almost as if they could read your thoughts. "I've never seen him up close before.”

You nodded, lost in thought as the line moved forward. Each step brought you closer to Varga, and you craned your neck to try and see his face.

Finally, you were second in line, and your heartbeat thumped against your ribs. Your fingers tightened around the cup of coffee you still held, and you fumbled slightly as you pulled the book from your bag. You smoothed down the cover, trying to calm your nerves, your mind still reeling.

When it was your turn, you stepped up to the booth, and he looked up. Your breath caught in your throat.

Antal.

His auburn feathers seemed more pronounced here, under the softer lights of the signing table, and when his eyes met yours, there was a moment of mutual recognition that ground everything to a halt.

Antal's expression softened. He cleared his throat, his voice softer, more tentative than before. "Hello, nice to see you again.”

You were momentarily at a loss for words, the surprise pinning you in place. Finally, you managed to speak, your voice a whisper of confusion and curiosity. "Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

He hesitated, his glance flickering away before meeting yours again. "Because I wanted you to like me for myself, not as Varga," he admitted with a shrug. "It's easy to like someone for their success or their fame... but you were so excited to meet Kristoff Varga… I wanted to hold off the inevitable."

His honesty struck a chord. A soft laugh escaped you as you shook your head slightly, the absurdity and the sweetness of his concern mingling together. "That's so silly," you said fondly. "I like you, Antal, and I like Varga. They're both you, aren't they?"

Antal's expression lightened, a relieved smile breaking through his initial reserve. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, his eyes brightening.

As an impatient murmur from the person behind you grew louder, Antal’s laughter broke the brief tension, his demeanor relaxing as he took your book to sign it. As he handed the book back, his fingers lingered just a bit too long.

“Are you busy later?” he asked.

“No, I’m free,” you replied, the excitement bubbling up inside you, making your heart race with anticipation.

A shy smile spread across his face, his usual confidence tempered with a vulnerability that made him even more endearing. “Would you like to meet up after the signing?” he ventured, his gaze steady on yours.

“I’d love to,” you said, stepping back to allow him to greet the next fan.

As you moved away from the booth, you heard snippets of conversation and whispers from those around who had caught bits of your exchange with Antal. There was a hint of jealousy in their tones, their eyes following you.

You moved to a quieter part of the bookstore, your heart still fluttering. You sat, waving hello to the barista from earlier, and waited.

As the hours trickled by, you lost yourself in the pages of Antal’s new book, glancing up every so often to see the queue dwindle. Around you, the bookstore began to quiet down, the last few patrons lingering as the event wound to a close.

Noticing the time, the barista approached your table with a gentle smile. “We’ll be closing up soon,” he mentioned, his eyes sweeping over the mostly empty café.

“I’m just waiting for Varga,” you explained, hoping it wouldn’t be an inconvenience.

The barista’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but he nodded understandingly. “Of course, we don’t close for another thirty minutes,” he said, and with a final tidy of the table, he left you to wait.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you saw Antal making his way towards you. The sight of him, free of the signing table and the throngs of fans, reignited the excitement from earlier. You stood up, and as he approached, something in his smile made it impossible to hold back.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying into his feathers. He was so soft and warm, and his closeness sparked something in you. Without really knowing what you were doing, you stood on your toes for a kiss.

The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, even careful. As you grew more confident, the kiss deepened; you clung to him, hands around his waist to pull him closer.

Antal tasted faintly of sugary coffee and strawberries, a hint of sweetness lingering on his lips. You could feel the slight brush of his feathers, his talons carefully touching your back.

As you stepped back from the kiss, breathless and heart racing, the excitement thrumming through you made your heart stutter. Your lips met his again as you practically crushed yourself against him.

Antal's laugh, light and genuinely happy, mingled with the air between you.

Pulling away a second time, Antal glanced down at the book open on the table. "How are you finding the book?" he asked, his tone playful.

"It's fantastic," you replied, your eyes still locked on his. "I love the romance in it—but I have to say, the real thing is even better."

Antal’s response was to pull you close once again, his arms wrapping around you in a hug that lifted you slightly off your feet. The warmth of his body and the strength in his hold were exhilarating.

As he set you back down, your laughter joined his, the sound echoing lightly in the near-empty café. You glanced over his shoulder and saw the barista watching, a knowing smile on his face. The sight might have embarrassed you at another time, but right now, it didn’t matter. You were too caught up to care about an audience.

Smiling, you pecked Antal on the cheek and said, “let them watch. They’re just jealous I’ve got you all to myself.”

[stiffyck]

Some art from today :3

[kiiwiidrawer]

The Ring of Brass.

I have finished the rewatching of the series and its still top tier storytelling. One of my favourite short (ish) stories. 

[filurig]

a new little spingle... info about him under the cut

a disciple of glaris in sartrill's priesthood, despite his holy position - isn't too enthusiastic about it. truthfully, he was forced into his current study by his parents as he was born as a "curlwing". "curlwings" in sartrillan culture are considered the closest to "true" children of glaris, having been born with her "blessing" of flightlessness and therefore are believed to be more strongly attuned to her, so the natural course for any young curlwing is to enter priesthood training at an early age. despite that, however, karu never excelled in his priestly studies - not that he was necessarily bad or couldn't carry out the duties he were assigned, but his superiors keep worrying that he doesn't put enough heart in it, so he has never really risen considerably in the ranks of the priesthood.

somewhat lethargic, karu accepted his "fate" - while he has faith, he also longs for being able to have his own life as life in the priesthood is relatively restricted to the holy grounds and the districts in sartill closest to it. there is a small, adventurous spirit inside of him that wishes to see more of the world, having never left sartrill in his entire life, but at this point he's sort of given up on it. he is somewhat ruled over by his fear of sticking out and not conforming and betraying the expectations of the priesthood, his family and Glaris herself.

karu can come off as quite cold and tired as he feels sort of detached from the people and circumstances around him. when brought out of his shell, however, he brightens up considerably - but can be a bit cynical still. he isn't actually as serious as he comes across as, and actually enjoys being around people who don't take things too seriously either. he tries to self-correct though and therefore that part of him is rarely seen by anyone. because of his alienation from other harpies, partly due to his upbringing and role, he's a bit socially inept, but has learned to deal with that by hiding behind his stoic and unconcerned facade. a bit of a double edged sword because it only reinforces the idea people have of him around him as this "serious, no-fun wholly dedicated priest disciple who doesn't want to mingle with the commoners"

while he wishes he had more freedom to do stuff, karu does enjoy some parts of his priestly duties - most especially the craftsmanship he gets to engage in. sartrillan priests will actually be responsible for most of the settlement's craftsmanship especially ones concerning fabric and clothing, but also other crafts (former are just the biggest categories)

flightlessness is relevant in some satrtillan mythology and in the biggest story (the one involving glaris) is a noteworthy sacrifice some crakam made to grant them the ability to hide from humans using illusory magic. that ofc creates a sort of weird relationship with crakam society and crakam born with flightless conditions. in sartrill its especially pronounced as glaris is the settlement's "patron deity" and while care is taken to accomodate to the flightless, there is also a social schism between them and other crakam bcs of their connotations and also the fact that most flightless crakam are "strongly encouraged" and often forced to live in the priesthood.

craftsmanship is strongly associated with holiness/the priesthood in sartrill because the body alterations flighted harpies undergo to render themselves flightless permanently actually increases arm flexibility a little, and historically being unable to fly it was a natural direction for many priests to head in to contribute to the community which might be why it became such a strong practice

there are several different conditions that can make a harpy not be flighted - curlfeather is one of them. any condition which does such is treated similarly - it doesn't really matter which, but curlfeather is probably the most common/well known one.

[maxyvert]

🪶Harpy collab🐦

We made a collab with my friend, @glitterbowl !!! This lovely lady was drawn and inked by her and colored by me :) Check out the one I've drawn on her page 🪶

[ashksa]