#he’s a harpy Eagle

[our-death-means-flag]

Above the Clouds and the Atmosphere

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader

Notes: Wing AU, Izzy hasn’t been able to fly in decades. It doesn’t bother him. (It does.) Reader is the first person he’s met with wings strong enough to carry someone and fly. Not that it matters, Izzy doesn’t need to fly again. (He does.)

So, @run-me-through-but-not-like-that (hope the tag isn’t annoying!) wrote a wing fic with Izzy a while ago and it has not left my brain since. I thought that Izzy deserved to fly again and I love wing fics. So, here’s this.

Warnings: mentioned wing injuries, angst, Izzy being difficult

Title Song: Rocketeer by Far East Movement (but I’m specifically thinking of this cover by Clara C.)

It was impossible not to notice.

A crew member with wings was fairly run of the mill. If anything, they were sought after since the benefits of having a pirate who could fly were too many to count. Most crews only had two or three if they were lucky. The Revenge somehow had six five, Ed, Fang, Bonnet, Buttons, and you.

You still somehow stood out.

Your wings were absolutely massive. You had a larger wingspan than Ed which was a feat on its own. And you were without question the strongest flier on the crew.  (Yes, the crew of this clown ship had hosted a competition for that for some bloody reason, during which Izzy did his damndest to hide below deck) Though, and he’d never admit it, he did enjoy watching you. Watching you fly so smoothly when you scouted the waters ahead, watching you swoop down to attack an enemy sending them falling off the boat while you effortlessly shot back up into the air, watching you laugh and joke with the crew, wings moving almost as much as your hands as you spoke, emphasizing your words. You always flew so gracefully. Each twitch of your feathers was intentional and the gusts of wind that each flap of your wings created felt like a storm.

Every once in a while he’d purposely stand near you and when the wind from your wings hit his face it felt like he was flying again, just for an instant, but of course, that instant would pass and then he’d be slammed back into reality, grounded, permanently.

It was beautiful.

It was horrible.

Watching you was incredible but it made his wings ache. 

He was stuck. Part of him wanted to cling to you and to the memories of flying. But he didn’t. Instead he avoided you and your beautiful wings and the memories you brought, snapping whenever you dared try and get close, being significantly more hostile towards you than the rest of the crew.

Despite that, you kept trying. You were soft. Just like the rest of the crew. You were capable too, on par with what he’d expect from Blackbeard’s crew. But you were soft. You were kind and gentle and helpful. You always greeted him with a warm “Hello Izzy!” or a “Good morning, Izzy!” or a “Do you need anything, Izzy?”

It made it hard to hate you.

He wondered if it was harder to hate you or to deal with the reminders you brought of what he couldn’t do anymore.

Regardless, he avoided you. 

But avoiding you forever wasn’t practical…

A high pitched yell pulled him away from his work as he dragged a hand across his face.

“No peace and fockin’ quiet on this fockin’ ship.” He grumbled.

Usually a yell like that would have him worried that they were under attack but much to his surprise, he wasn’t really worried. He realized with no small amount of shock that it was because you’d been the one scouting today and you certainly wouldn’t be so incompetent. 

He quickly stopped thinking about how that must mean he trusts you.

Izzy stepped onto the deck and immediately noticed the source of the commotion. Practically the entire crew was crowded on the deck all clearly watching something. That something turned out to be you.

You were flying, easily keeping yourself hovering in place with strategic flaps of your wings. Clutching desperately onto you, was Lucius. The scribe looks like he was moments away from screaming again even as Izzy saw you gently comforting him and (if he was reading your lips right) telling him that it wasn’t that high up, that even if you dropped him, which you emphasized that you definitely wouldn’t do, he’d be fine.

Izzy shook his head trying to stop staring at you. He did the only thing he could think of and barked out “What the fuck are you useless lot doing?” 

A few people turned to glare at him and you looked remarkably guilty. In an annoyingly graceful movement, you landed deftly on the deck and gently released Lucius (honestly having to peel him off more than anything). 

You rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. “Sorry Izzy! Some of the crew wanted to go for a fly and I was done scouting— didn’t see anything interesting— and I’m the strongest flier… So, I figured.” You rambled and Izzy made a point of not looking at how the edges of your wings twitched as you moved your hands. “I… uh…” You seemed to lose confidence as you spoke. “Yeah…”

Some members of the crew notably stepped in between him and you as if to defend you. Not that it stopped him from opening his mouth, ready to unleash a volley of insults but the hand on his shoulder did.

“Aw, come on now. Lay off them Iz…” Edward’s voice was soft as he wrapped both his arm and wing around his shoulder, almost hiding the two of them from view.

The crew went back to talking to you, assuming that Ed would handle Izzy.

Ed took his chance and ducked slightly and whispered into Izzy’s ear, almost conspiratorially, “You know, if you asked, I’m sure they’d take you for a fly… They’re probably the only person we’ve met who could.” 

Izzy tensed. Of course you could. And Ed was right. You were very likely the only person who could. He’d never met anyone with wings as strong as yours. You definitely could carry him and fly.

Edward couldn’t. His wings were made for speed, not strength. Even though he’d been nearly dead, he remembered the first raid after his wings had gotten injured. Ed had scooped him into his arms and flown them back to their ship. He’d barely made it, actually hitting the railing and sending both of them skidding across the deck. Ed had sprained his own wings horribly after that, so Izzy never let him carry him again. He wouldn’t let his captain ground himself for his sake.

Izzy glanced at you again as you gently pulled Lucius into your arms again, comforting him before gently taking off.

The idea took over his mind. He could fly again. He’d never thought it would be possible.

No. It didn’t matter. He was fine.

He’d been fine without his flight for years. The hours he’d spent staring at the sky didn’t matter. The nights he’d spend curled up in his bunk, trying desperately to fall back asleep and dream of flying for just one more second didn’t matter.

He was fine.

Izzy rolled his shoulder pushing Ed’s hand off him. “I don’t need them.” He spat and stormed off.

He made a point of not looking at Edward’s guilty look. He knew that Ed had always blamed himself for the state of Izzy’s wings. Izzy had gotten the injuries protecting him after all. Even if Izzy knew about his captain's guilt, he couldn’t understand it. Protecting his captain came before everything else. Even his wings.

And he was fine.

—

Izzy did a double take the moment he stepped onto the deck for his late night rounds. The deck was empty, the night chilly enough to send everyone down to the bunks rather than sleeping on deck. But that wasn’t what caught his eye. Everything was done? The rigging was secure. The deck was organized and clean and he had no idea what was going on.

Until he spotted a familiar wing. 

Of course. It just had to be you. 

You were crouched near the front of the ship, wings fluttering in concentration as you meticulously checked the remainder of the rigging. So the state of the deck was probably because of you. But why? You’d usually be in bed or eating with the crew by now and you certainly didn’t have a late night shift today. So why were you here working?

Not sure how to get your attention without having to get close enough to risk touching your wings or yelling, he cleared his throat. You jumped lightly and he saw your hand shoot for the blade at your side until you looked over your shoulder and caught sight of him. Then you smiled.

“Evenin’ Izzy!” You greeted as politely as usual.

“Right,” was his curt response. “What are you doing here so damn late?”

You stood, somewhat sheepishly. “Oh, well… I figured I ought to help out a little…” He only got more confused and you seemed to notice since you continued, “well, I was the one who distracted everyone earlier and I wanted to make it up to you… so… I handled some things.” 

He furrowed his brows. “Make it up to me?”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t want you getting stuck with extra work cause I distracted everyone.”  You said it so matter-of-factly too, as if it was normal for you to do something like that for him.

On any other ship, if you’d do something like that, it would be out of fear, hoping to avoid punishment for slacking off. But no one on this ship was actually afraid of him since they all knew that the captains wouldn’t let him do anything. Maybe you were doing another strange thing again. Like how you greeted him and helped out.

Ridiculous.

“Fine.” He glanced at the rigging. “Not bad.” You beamed like he’d given you a huge compliment. “Go.” He dismissed you coldly, trying not to think about how much he liked seeing you smiling.

You walked past him, still smiling. Then you stopped. He was moments away from telling you to fuck off when you spoke again, “You know… my offer stands for you too.” He looked back at you.

“What offer?” He snapped.

“Flying. You weren’t on deck when I mentioned it to the rest of the crew but if you ever want me to take you for a fly, I’d be happy to. Just say the word.” He froze. “If you don’t want to do anything around the crew, let me know and I can find a time where we can fly without them around.”

Izzy stared at you. 

Did he want that?

Did he want to fly again?

He tried to picture it, the wind in his face, the ocean beneath him, your arms holding him and your beautiful wings keeping both of you in the air.

He hates the fact that he doesn’t hate the ideas.

You seem to take his silence and glare wrong as you rush to correct yourself. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to assume… I know you don’t like me and I know my wings make you uncomfortable and-

“What?” Izzy manages to force the word out, cutting off your words. 

You smiled sadly. “I'm not that oblivious. I know you keep avoiding me and whenever I fly you always seem really uncomfortable. I’m sorry. I want to be friends but if you want me to fuck off, just say the word and I’ll try to stay out of your way.”  

“Friends?” He echoed as if that was the most surprising thing you’d said. Not only had you caught on to his behavior but you were actively trying to make it up to him for them. 

You chuckled but it was clearly more at yourself than anything he said. ”Yeah… stupid. I know… I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He wasn’t sure why but he had to say it, had to get that stupid sad expression off your face. You seemed surprised. “I don't hate you.”

You froze, glancing back at him. “What?”

He groaned, realizing that he’d backed himself into a conversational corner. “I don’t hate you or your wings. Honestly you’re the most tolerable out of this whole damn crew. You actually know what you’re doing.”

You turned fully to face him, confusion and hope clear on your face. “You don’t? Then why do you avoid me?”

“Because I hate being reminded of what I can’t do!” He snapped. Then almost immediately froze as he realized what he’d said a moment after saying it. Your eyes widened. His eyes widened. “Fuck.”

His wings flexed uselessly under the many layers of wraps keeping them pressed to his back.

“You have…”

“Yes.” No point beating around the bush. “Can’t fly anymore.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Your tone of voice stunned him. You weren’t mocking him. He still remembered the way the rest of Hornigold’s crew had reacted to his sudden grounding. And get here you were genuinely telling him you were sorry without an ounce of sarcasm or mockery. You, with the most beautiful set of wings he’d ever seen.

“I don’t want your damn pity.” He snapped.

You didn’t react. “It’s not pity. I mean it. I’m genuinely sorry that happened to you.”

He didn’t know how to react to the fact he believed you.

“Thank you for telling me Izzy. If you ever need anyone to help with your wings, just ask.” Your words were so gentle, so genuine. “Goodnight Izzy.” You turned.

“Wait.” The word came out like a command, even as his voice shook. He knew if he didn’t say it now he’d probably never get the courage again. You turned, confused. But Izzy spoke before you did. “I want to fly.”

“What?”

“I’m not fucking saying it again.”

You (damn you) didn’t push or try to mess with him. Instead you just smiled. “Of course. If you’d like, we could go now?” You offered gently.

Izzy hesitated. He technically didn’t have any nightly duties left since you’d done everything aside from being on watch which he could easily do while flying. He swallowed. “Sure.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face and the way your wings fluttered in excitement. You opened your arms and smiled at him. “I’m going to have to pick you up.” 

Izzy couldn’t help but be a little grateful for you simply allowing him to come to you rather than grab him. With far more hesitation than he cared to admit, Izzy moved closer, tentatively stepping into arms reach of you.. You gestured with your arms and raised a brow, silently asking if you could pick him up. Izzy managed to mumble a “Yeah, go for it.” and he was lucky the two of you were so close since he was barely louder than a whisper.

You moved carefully, gently picking him up. One of your arms under his legs and the other resting gently against his back. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to keep himself steady and was trying (and failing) incredibly hard to not think about how you were holding him

“You good?” You asked, speaking incredibly softly. With Izzy in your arms like he was, he could feel your breath on his ear. Izzy doubted he could actually get his lips to form words but he managed a quick nod. “Alright, I’m going to stay over the deck, not too high. Then if that’s fine with you I can fly around.”

Why did you have to be so frustratingly considerate? 

Izzy nodded against your shoulder.

You smiled, even without looking at you, he could hear it in your voice. “Got it. I’m taking off on the count of 3. 1…”

Izzy took a deep breath.

“2…”

He adjusted his grip on your shoulders.

“3!”

More on instinct than any conscious thought, Izzy buried his face in your shoulder. He heard the flap of your wings, the air rushing past, and then, calm. He pulled away from your shoulder slowly and opened his eyes. The two of you were hovering over the deck, about eye level with the mizzentop, your wings carefully flapping to keep you both as still as possible. It took a moment for everything to click in his mind. 

He was flying.

“Izzy?” Your voice gently pulled him from his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

He really wanted to give some cool response maybe a smooth “never better” but instead the only sound that managed to escape him was a “mhhnngh” which not only wasn’t smooth at all but also didn’t answer your question so instead he managed to nod.

“Do you want to fly around more?” He could practically hear the smile in your voice. 

Since Izzy’s vocal chords were still not cooperating, he nodded, almost frantically.

“Alright… Let’s go…” With another powerful flap of your wings you shot off away from the Revenge. Izzy felt the wind rushing by his face, tousling his hair. He watched the ocean flicker past just below him.  You dove down, and Izzy suddenly felt the sea mist against his skin. 

When his wings had healed enough for him to attempt flying, he'd honestly already known at that point that it would be useless. He’d tried regardless. Of course, he couldn’t. He pretended it didn’t bother him. But honestly, the idea that he’d never be able to fly again burned up his mind in a way he’d never been able to shake.

But he was actually flying.

It felt like a dream.

Izzy’s eyes must have been watering from the wind and the salt. 

He definitely wasn’t crying.

He was fine.

Without even thinking about it, Izzy reached a hand out towards the sea, desperate to reach out and touch it, as if that would fully confirm for him that he wasn’t dreaming. Seemingly realizing what he wanted, you swooped lower, allowing the tips of Izzy’s fingers to skip across the surface of the waves. You soared up into the air, Izzy watching the waves created from air from your wings.  Then you dove back down. You flew laps around the Revenge, staying just close enough to be safe. Of course, you (irritatingly considerate) kept checking in with him. “Is this okay?” “You alright?” “Everything fine?” To which Izzy could only respond with nods.

By the time you were landing back on deck,  Izzy honestly had no clue how long the two of you had been flying. He’d somehow just let himself get lost in the feeling of flying. A quick glance at the sky made him suddenly realize that his watch was almost up. The two of you had flown around almost all night. Izzy was honestly a lot more reluctant to leave your arms than he’d expected to be, but the fear of someone coming on deck and seeing you both made him finally remove himself from your arms.

He expected to feel just as awful as he had when he’d first realized he was stuck on the ground the moment his feet touched the ground but that didn’t happen. He felt lighter, more comfortable, like some tension he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying was gone. He scrubbed his face with his sleeve, trying to make it look more like he was rubbing sleep away from his eyes with limited success.

“Izzy?” Your voice once again, cut through the silence. He spun, turning to see you leaning against the railing, wings relaxed and breathing a bit heavier than normal, shoulders visibly moving. It seemed that even for someone as strong as you, flying around for hours carrying someone was a lot of work. 

“You look exhausted. You should have stopped sooner.” He winced at his own words, hating how even that came out as a complaint.

You chuckled lightly, seemingly not taking his words as insulting in any way. “Yeah, probably.” You agreed as you gently stretched your wings out. Izzy was once again struck by how big and powerful your wings were. “But you seemed to be having a good time so… I only really doubled back when I realized the watch shift was going to change, figured you wouldn’t want any of the crew seeing you.”

Again with you being so frustratingly considerate of him. Izzy sighed. You still made little sense to him with all that kindness but that was an issue for another day. “You ought to go to sleep. I’ll handle your morning tasks so you can sleep in.”

You immediately waved your hands. “Oh you don’t have to do that!”

“I know I don’t.” Izzy replied matter-of-factly. “Just as you didn’t need to stay up late to help me nor take me flying.”

“You don’t owe me for any of that, Izzy. I did that because I wanted to.” 

He actually fumbled with his words for a moment. If it were anyone else, he would have immediately called bullshit, but you looked so incredibly genuine. Either you were the best liar he’d ever met, or you were being sincere. “In that case, go to bed. I’ll cover for you because I want to.” He tried to make his voice as authoritative as possible but it was incredibly hard to do that when you were looking at him so softly. “You’re not convincing me otherwise.”

You smiled. “If you insist. Goodnight Izzy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.” Izzy replied with a nod. You walked past him to the bunks, and Izzy gathered up his courage. “Thank you.” He managed to force out without turning to face you,  just as you were about to leave. 

“Of course, anytime!”

Left alone on deck for a few minutes until shift change, Izzy watched the sky.

#izzy hands x reader #ofmd #ofmd izzy #ofmd x reader #our flag means death x reader #our flag means death #israel hands x reader #wing au #i thought the character wing choices through a lot (probably way more than i needed to) #izzy is a swallow like his tattoo (which also fits him a lot) #ed is a crow since the colors match and they’re very intelligent #stede is a swan #graceful and fancy with the added ugly duckling vibes for young stede which fits thematically #reader has wings like a harpy eagle since they’re one of the strongest birds and also pretty #buttons’ look like a seagull’s wings for obvious reasons #and fang has fluffy snow owl wings since he deserves them #most of them aren’t even really in this one but i was having wing thoughts

[c-119]

Game night!

#doodles #planes: fire and rescue #planes 2 #disney planes #cabbie mchale #cabbie #the smokejumpers #avian Cabbie #I’m obsessed with them #they found a severely downpriced console and immediately got it #they don’t have the budget to buy a new console 😔 #it’s something to keep the jumpers occupied though so why not #cabbie fell asleep on the couch #the jumpers can’t hear the game every 3 seconds because Cabbie snores so loud #harpy eagle cabbie #his wings do not hurt! #the flight feathers are very flexible at the ends #he’s not in pain I promise #avian au

[navyinks]

dynamic sketching week 4 was about analysing and drawing animal skeletons. I enjoyed this way more than I thought i would xD

#dynamic sketching #this is a massive chunk of work tbh #i took this to our group coach and he just started colouring my harpy eagle in??? WHAT #original #guess i better start tagging animals juuuuust in case #rabbit #otter #fur seal #crocodile #harpy eagle #horse #woolly mammoth #elk

[maiaawhimsy]

Look at my boy Aukan <333

#digital art #my art #my oc #oc: Aukan #wip #i'm still figuring him out #this is his human form #he's a harpy eagle #is that make up or blood? good question. knowing him it's probably both. he just went hunting or smth #yeah #gotta give him more harpy eagle details >:3

[leopardsealz]

windy design

please reblog my art!

#cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #crob #cookie run fanart #crob fanart #crk #crk fanart #wind archer cookie #sam draws #pwease no kin tags this is a personal kin design <3 #fun fact all the 'hair' is feathers! including on chin & legs #im not good at doing detailed wings but in my Mind he has harpy eagle markings

[snickeringdragon]

sonic oc...2!!!!! i replayed sonic forces yesterday in anticipation for playing the overclocked mod and made this guy! i named him kugelblitz. hes a harpy eagle :]

#snickart #no id #sonic the hedgehog #kugelblitz the harpy eagle (oc) #his wispon is asteroid btw ^_^ #since hes got flame patterns + asteroid wispon thats why i named him kugelblitz. so cool #i really wanna make more sonic ocs #i need to make up for all the times in the past when i couldve but didnt

[mxwhore]

I just noticed the eye markings on the back of harpy!Martin's head in your latest comic. Is that to scare off predators?

yeah! The biggest predator of harpies are... other harpies

#martin is on the smaller side but he is still pretty big as an eagle owl mimic #since there are many different kind of harpies as there are prey birds it actually works sometimes #not with other owly harpies tho. they have that trick too #tessa answers! #harpy martin

[badbuiltbindle]

i feel such a special connection with the five or so random subjects i did projects on during my k-12. like do i remember a single factoid about bismuth from when i made a pamphlet about it in the second grade? no! but that's my fav little rock formation thing and i still ride for it to this day!

#this also goes for #sacajawea #james buchanan (i dont ride for him but i still will randomly bring up he was the 15th president) #harpy eagles #etc etc

[thehallwayrat]

Okay but what if each soulmates took on small physical traits of eachother

We deserve scar with little baby wings in my opinion

#please tell me what you think he’d bd if he doesnt match grian as a parrot #PLEASE I WANT THE OPINIONS OF THE GAY SKRUNKLYS IN MY PHONE #double life smp #traffic smp #(?) #double life spoilers #id love to see his drawn as a harpy eagle!! #small wings and perfectly made for the jungle type-a bords #or a bee hummingbird!!

[girlcraft2003]

He's so stupid. Dumb bastard man /gn. His old design was much worse

#oc art #oc artwork #oc artist #girlcraft art #harpy character #avian character #technically he is based on harpies harpy eagles and avians so im just gonna tag both

[lightningwaters]

#talonstar #ancient riverclan #leader #he's based on a harpy eagle #bc their talons are absolutely crazy

[c-119]

How TALL is your Avian Cabbie exactly..?

Uhh.. good question.

For the sake of answering this fairly quickly, I’m going to make a guesstimate and say roughly 20 ft. :’0

#inbox #avian cabbie #harpy eagle cabbie #god DAMN #he’s huge actually. how did I not realize #and that’s ROUGHLY 20 ft #hmm. I’ll be thinking about this #avian au

[princelythirsts]

I Need a tag for more of my f/o’s bc I got hit by a sudden wave of lust and yearning for Oswald like holy fuck please man

#thirsty ramblings #does he need a dog? uhhhh I mean like. a hunting falcon? a songbird? a penguin to strap a bomb to? #I’ve thought about falconry pet play with him before it’s so fucking hot #I think I’ll use my old self insert Alphonse who’s harpy eagle themed

[yxami]

I was thinking of a harpy eagle man, just a stupid idea. I honestly intended it to be way shorter.

description: yandere harpy hybrid, macaw hybrid reader, gender neutral reader, predator and prey dynamic, he was mean at first then turned into a big soft giant as much as a yandere with possessive tendencies can have, my favorite animals are cats, penguins, dogs, and monkeys, what about you guys?

Koa has yet to find a mate, seasons have passed and he can’t help but grow more and more saddened with no mate. He has tried to court other female harpy’s but they all seemed intimidated by his size, preferring a mate with less scary looks. He was big, young, and had white hair with prominent gray highlights. Maybe it was also his talons, or his big brown eyes that always seemed to glare at something.

He didn’t understand why he was deemed unfit for a mate. Weren’t harpy’s supposed to go for a big mate that could protect the nest? His heart hurt every-time he was shunned for trying to court a potential partner.

Now Koa was just sat in his own nest, empty and alone. He was still in his prime young age, but if this continued on, he would be too old for a mate by then! Harpies mated for life, what if there was no more available people by the time he gets the chance?

His wings showed discomfort with that idea, having no mate was like a doomed fate of death. His feathers puffed up to keep him warm from the cold winds, he scanned around. Maybe he could find something to eat to distract his mind.

He swooped down onto a much smaller tree, looking around for a tasty snack. He found something much better when he set his sights on you. A colorful bird, one that was enjoyable to eat. A macaw!

You were destined to be a whole meal! He hadn’t eaten a macaw in awhile, they were such delicious things to feast upon when harpy eagles found the chance. Especially the macaw hybrids that held a lot of fat on them. You didn’t seem to hold any at all now that he looked at you intently. Such a small little thing.

He focused his sights on you, making sure there was nobody else that hungrily stared at you like he did. He wasn’t totally hungry, maybe he could save you for later. He just wanted to fill his stomach with something other than his anxious worries for a mate.

Koa swiftly flew down, picking you up with his talons by your arms. You immediately yelled, your striking wings tried flapping to escape. You squirmed and writhed but his grasp was ultimately too strong. You cried that you were too young to die! What a pathetic sight.

He threw you into his nest, making sure to pin you down right after. He scanned your eyes that were frantic, looking everything for a chance to escape. Now that he got a good look at you, you were pretty. A little too pretty.

He had you in his lap now, observing your wing size and how much meat you had on your body. Clearly not a good meal for a big bird like him. You were very bright, like you were begging to be eaten in such a deep colored forest.

You whimpered and sobbed, just awaiting your destined fate to die. But it still didn’t happen, after a few minutes, your head started to pound from all the crying you did in such a hasty manner. So you just sniffled and stayed quiet. Letting him grab and measure you.

“Are you- gonna e-eat me?” You sputtered, unable to stop the sniffles that kept interrupting your words. You didn’t want to die, you were still young, yet to find a mate! Now you were in a harpy eagle’s nest! And he looked so scary, he had you tense and anxious.

“Hmph, you looked bigger from a far sight but.. you’re rather small.” Koa examined you as if you were something unintelligent like a bass! “And how am I supposed to eat such a pretty thing like you” He made sure his last sentence wasn’t audible. He just thought you were actually very cute. You were a bright thing, perfect for being a mate. But you were a macaw.. that was supposed to be his prey.

“And I’m young! I still have yet to find a mate. I have a lot to live for!” You argued for your freedom. Why would he kill you when you were destined to live longer. You weren’t even a meal for him, at most you were a snack! Was it worth killing you for just that?

“That’s cute, you know what..” He held you up by your sides, observing how you nervously looked down at him. “I think I’ll keep ya’!” He smiled, a smile that didn’t ease you at all. It wasn’t soft or kind, it was the type of smile that yelled ‘I’ll let you live for a few days and tease at your death until I ultimately kill you’

“Keep me? I’m n-not a pet!” You squirmed under his grasp, just to be brought into his lap again. He didn’t want you slipping out afterall! He would easily catch up to you if you did end up flying away but he wouldn’t want to risk other predators seeing you.

There was no nearby harpies anyways but who knows? There was always a chance something might take you away when you’re such a noticeable thing.

“You’re like.. a little budgie! Yeah! I might keep you after all!” Koa brought you close to his chest, wrapping his wings around you. You were so soft! Softer than his feathers could ever be. His feathery tail wagged at your acceptance in the embrace, you weren’t even fighting!

“Just don’t eat me.. okay?” You worried about your safety. You recently got kicked from your own nest from a bigger macaw so that’s why you were out in the open. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t eat you? If you gained his trust and his friendship then he wouldn’t want to eat you!

This was probably your mind clinging onto hope that the biggest predator in the forest wouldn’t gobble you up. Especially when you were such a tasty snack for harpy’s. You were always raised with a trusting nature so you just hoped it would help you survive.

“Hm, I guess I won’t. Are you going to try and escape?” He eyed you down, letting go of you to test if you would go and frantically fly away like an idiot.

“No! I won’t, I just.. don’t want to die. I got kicked out of my nest and I didn’t know what to do. I knew I was bound to get eaten but I’m helpful! I promise!” You argued even though he already decided to keep you.

“You were kicked out your nest? You still lived with your parents?” He titled his head, how young were you? He couldn’t be eyeing you up if you were still a chick! That would be awful.

“No, I got kicked out of my nest! My own nest I built to find a mate but some stupid macaw took it over” Your feathers ruffled up in anger, still remembering how she threw you off just because you had made such an ideal nest.

So this meant the two of you were relatively close in age, both young and filled with energy, looking for a prosperous mate!

“Hah! You were just worrying about your life and now you’re upset about your old nest?” Koa laughed, chest rising with each laugh he made. He found it humorous how quick your frightened mood turned into a relaxed one.

“Well it was a good nest! And it took me so long! It was the perfect space and—“ You kept rambling on about your life and the amazing nest you made. You didn’t even realize you were rambling until the sun started to set.

“Are you hungry? If you really were out all day with no nest then you likely didn’t eat anything” He pat your head, brushing down the frazzled hairs. You leaned into his touch, finding it comforting with all the stress you went through today. Even though he was the cause of half of it.

“Super hungry! I can help catch some mice! I’ve gotten better at it since I’m really quiet” You flapped your wings in excitement, quickly getting up to help him.

“No, you stay here. I’ll find us something to eat.” He pat your head once more. Towering over you once he got up, his strong physique was right in your face and you looked away to be polite.

“I want to help though! If I’m going to stay here then I want to pull my weight!” You were always a stubborn one, even if it meant it got you in some troubles with your parents.

“Hmm.. I suppose, just stick beside me. Don’t think about wandering off, you don’t know what types of predators lurk around” Koa was pretty hypocritical for being the biggest apex predator. And being the species that would often feast upon yours. But he was nice! And he decided not to eat you, that’s good..?

“Got it!” You happily waited for him to fly down so you could glide along side him. It was a rare sight to see a prey flying beside a predator without being killed.

The two of you were able to scrounge up lots of things! Well.. he got the bigger portions like mice, rats and some lizards. While you were able to fetch some delicious sweet berries, and some apples you found. It was a healthy diet but the meat would balance it out!

He chuckled at your beaming eyes when you caught a little mouse hiding in a berry bush. The two of you brought all the catches things in the nest, he was quick to kill the mouse you had in your mouth.

“Well, look at that, my first hunt with someone and you caught berries” He tried hiding his smile that he knew you would be squabbling about.

“I caught a mouse too! That’s good right?” You looked at him for approval, it was your first hunt along side someone that wasn’t your parents. He adored your ask for assurance.

Koa pat your head, silently approving with a simple nod. You were happy you pulled your weight! It would be awful to be freeloading in his nest. You wondered how long he was going to “keep” you. Did he want to be roommates? Or was this just temporary until you made a nest?

You chewed on some juicy berries, finding it easy to bite through the skin with your sharp teeth. It was similar to him chewing on a rat before gulping it down like a simple seed. You paid no attention to the bloody sight of him tearing apart the largest rat he caught.

After the two of you ate, you were sleepy with such a full belly. You ruffled up your feathers, providing a warm feeling around your skin, ready to go in a deep sleep. You curled up on the other side of the nest, away from the food area and what you assumed to be his sleeping place.

He titled his head confused, were you not going to sleep next to him? Koa knew the two of you weren’t mates but it would make more sense to sleep near him so he could protect you. Or does he just want to feel your warmth?

You blinked, looking at his confused stare, did you do something wrong? Were you actually in his sleeping space?

“What’s wrong?” You shyly asked, nervous that you did in-fact do something wrong.

“You should sleep next to me, I can’t protect you if you’re that far away” He opened up his arms, making it sound like you were miles away. When in reality, it was just a few feet away, and he just wanted to cuddle with your soft feathers along with the comfort your body gave.

“Oh, okay!” You casually agreed with his reasonings, believing he was thinking more logically rather than emotionally.

You snuggled up in his lap, easily sneaking your way into his grasp. He rubbed your squishy cheeks as you looked up, finding your quick embrace cute. He wasn’t thinking about making you his mate.. No way, he just wanted to have company. So what if you were a smaller bird and normally supposed to be eaten by him. It’s not like the society of his species ever accepted him.

Koa laid down, spooning you while he wrapped his arms and wings around your plush body. You quickly dozed off with the comfort of his body cupping yours. It was soothing to finally be in a nest and have some company after being alone. Loneliness was something he was escaping as well.

Maybe the two of you were much more similar then both of you thought. Was it so bad to be trusting of each other? It’s not like the two of you would be able to become mates! … right?

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #pls request #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #gn reader #hybrid yandere #hybrid reader #bird hybrid #soft yandere #mean yandere #hybrid #hybrid bird #yandere bird hybrid #macaw reader #yandere harpy #koamyoc

[writeforfandoms]

Fear Not This Night

Find my CoD masterlist

Being part of the 141 pack meant you watched out for your boys, always. As their medic, it meant you sometimes flew into danger for them. When someone uses that knowledge against you to separate you from your pack, you pay the price.

Warnings: Blood, treating wounds, medical inaccuracies, shifter biology, shifter dynamics, psychological torture, physical torture, being blinded (hood over head), brief self-harm (pulling feathers). This one is a bit dark so if you would like more in depth warnings, come ask me.

Word count: 7.6k

Harpy eagle f!reader x 141 poly

You soared over the trees, sharp eyes watching for your team. You’d gotten the call that they needed you a few hours prior, so you knew they’d likely moved some from their last coordinates. But you doubted they’d gone far. You weren’t even tired yet, broad wings carrying you and your pack. 

Finally, you spotted Soap, in a convenient space between trees. Good man, making your life easier. You didn’t cry out in recognition, because that was dangerous. But you did dive, tucking your wings close and waiting until the last possible moment to pull up, flapping down to land on your pack. It was specially designed to be sturdy enough for you to land on, fortunately. 

“There ye are,” Soap murmured, grinning at you and reaching out one hand to stroke the top of your head. You blinked at him, chirping. “C’mon. Someone got a lucky hit on Ghost.”

You hopped off your medic pack, hopping a few steps away before you shifted. “How bad?” you asked, opening up your pack and throwing on clothes. For the chill more than for modesty. 

You had no modesty around your boys anymore. 

“Price wants ye to check, because Ghost is bein’ an ass.” 

“I heard that,” came the grumpy growl from Ghost. 

You rolled your eyes and picked up your pack, which looked more like a picnic basket when you carried it this way. “If you’re alive enough to growl, you’re alive enough to behave,” you pointed out. He still had his mask on, but he wasn’t arguing lying down, either. Hmm. Must be feeling worse than you thought. 

You settled on your knees next to Ghost, giving him a quick once-over. Bandages had been packed down against his thigh, though you ignored them for the moment. Nothing else looked out of place. 

“Anywhere hurting besides the thigh?” 

“Took a round to the vest,” he admitted, a little reluctant and a lot grumpy. Probably mostly grumpy that he got hit. 

“Just bruised,” Gaz said as he crouched a little to the side of you and behind you, out of the way but ready to assist. “Didn’t even crack a rib.” 

“Lucky bastard,” you agreed, shifting your attention down to his thigh. “And this?” 

“A graze,” Gaz said. “But it bled a lot, more than normal.”

You hummed acknowledgement, leaning closer. Ghost shifted, and you cooed softly, almost reflexively. He huffed but settled. 

The wound wasn’t bad under the bandages, but it was in a tricky spot, just above his knee. You couldn’t see any real reason why it would have bled more than normal except use, which was kind of inevitable. But even so, just to be on the safe side, you smeared it with ointment and rewrapped it. 

“How far do you have to go?” You packed up the rest of your supplies after forcing Ghost to drink more water. 

“Little ways yet.” Price shrugged, planting his hands on his hips. 

“I’m fine to keep going,” Ghost said, because of course he did.

“You finish your water,” you said, poking his hip. “Then we’ll see.” 

He huffed, eyes narrowing at you. But he subsided. Mostly because you both knew Price would side with you. 

“If you left now?” You raised one eyebrow at Price.

“We’d make it by dawn.” 

You puffed out a breath. That was not too bad. Ghost was tough, you knew he could last that long, especially since he’d already been forced to rest (and probably to eat something, knowing the rest of the pack). “I’ll scout ahead,” you said, pushing up to your feet. “Circle back and follow behind, make sure you’re fine.” 

“I’ve got your pack,” Gaz offered before you could say anything more. You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t protest. You knew better. 

You also knew better than to shift again without eating something, so you ripped open a protein bar and ate it as fast as possible under Price’s approving eye. Tossing your clothes back at Gaz and grinning at his playful huff, you shifted back and took off again. 

The route forward to their exfil point was clear and quiet, even to your keen gaze. Turning to circle back, you made sure to check back in on your guys as you flew above them. 

No enemies behind, either. They’d done a good job of either killing everyone who’d tried to follow, or losing them. You expected nothing less from them. 

Pleased, you made a few big circles just to be sure. Still nothing. No sign of enemies. You took your time following your pack to the exfil point. 

True to Price’s prediction, just as the sun broke the horizon the pack made it to exfil. You dove down to join them, landing next to Ghost. Gaz tossed your clothes to you as soon as you shifted, and Ghost shoved water at you.

“You all are mother hens, y’know that?” you grumbled without any heat, grinning, even as you double-checked Gaz’s straps. 

“Says the biggest hen of us,” Soap pointed out with a wicked grin.

“Now now, just because my tits are the best–” you started playfully. 

“Enough,” Price interrupted, sitting on Gaz’s other side, between him and the opening. Smart man. 

You and Soap subsided, though you did both roll your eyes. “Everybody good?” You looked around at them, meeting each gaze squarely for a moment, to make sure none of them were lying. They all tolerated it, well used to you by now. Satisfied that none of your guys were about to keel over, you settled back for the trip back. 

Flying in a heli had never been your favorite thing to do. You much preferred to fly on your own. But you had to admit that the heli was faster - you’d tried once to keep up, and couldn’t. Which wasn’t actually surprising, just disappointing. 

This flight was not bad. Not too long. Which was good, because you were getting antsy. Ghost had caught a nap on the heli, but you still wanted to make sure he was fine in better conditions than you’d had before. 

As soon as the heli landed, you were out, watching Ghost carefully. He wouldn’t accept help, not in front of others, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t check in. 

“‘M fine,” he grumbled at you very quietly as you fell into step next to him. 

“I’m sure you are,” you agreed. “And I’ll be more sure after I get to look you over.”

Soap leaned closer, waggling his eyebrows. But he didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t. Not here. Not where people could overhear and get the wrong idea. 

Simon was fine, as it turned out when you finally got him to medical. Heightened metabolisms were good for some things, after all, and that included faster healing. 

But you still bullied all your guys into the nest to take a nap. 

“Stop fussing,” Price grumbled, lifting his head to pin you with a look. “And get in here.”

“It is literally my job to fuss,” you grumbled right back, although you did stop messing with the pillows and observed the nest. There was a good spot next to Simon. You carefully stepped over Gaz and Price before you settled down with a soft chirp, nestled between Simon and Price. There. That was better. 

Price’s soft huff made you grin to yourself. At least until Simon tucked you under his arm and started scratching your scalp. Then you relaxed into him.

Okay. Maybe you could take a nap too. 

One good thing about having pack-only spaces was that you could be with your guys without fear. 

Simon had been ordered to stay and rest and finish healing while the other three went on what was supposed to be a quick mission. A day or two all told, is how Price had phrased it. You didn't know the details, didn't need to know the details, but you did know that Simon hated this. 

"Relax," you murmured to him soothingly, scratching your fingers against his scalp. "They'll be back soon." 

He grumbled wordlessly, one hand curling against your thigh where he was also using it as a pillow. 

"Easy, Simon," you murmured, low and soothing. The little bit of grooming helped both of you, you knew. And it was almost all you could do for the moment. 

Until you got called to help with exfil. 

You hated leaving Simon, knew he'd be all but climbing the walls in his anxiety, but… needs must. He understood. 

This time you went without your med pack - supplies would be available after exfil. 

You weren't even sure Price had called for you. But the order came from higher up, so off you went to go help. 

From high in the air, the battlefield looked bad. You could see bodies still laying where they'd fallen, a visual indication of the path of retreat. It took a little time to find your guys, the three of them huddled together behind a half-burned building. There were no immediate threats, but you could see where enemies had set up to hinder them. 

It was not an easy situation, nor an easy fix. You flapped your wings a few times, changing your trajectory. 

You needed to give them a distraction, a chance to get out. Most people didn't look up - you could use that, get a good sneak attack or two in. Cause a little chaos in the line. 

It would do for now, until you came up with a better plan. 

You flew a little higher, using the angle of the sun to help disguise your descent. And then you dove, aiming for one soldier a little apart from the others. He never saw you coming. 

But he screamed as your talons ripped through the vulnerable skin of his scalp and neck. 

You flapped hard, leaving him to bleed out even as shouts started up around you. You managed to vanish into the sun, flying up high again. You'd be harder to hit that way. 

Of course, now they were on alert. Damn. That hadn't quite been enough of a distraction for your guys to get away. 

You needed something bigger. 

Scanning the ground, you looked for something out of the way to pick up and drop on the enemy line. 

It was a good plan, and it even worked. 

Until you were flying away. Someone must have been watching, because there was a sharp pain in your wing, enough to make you screech. Your wing faltered and you fell, just able to slow yourself enough that you didn't injure yourself further. 

You hit the ground in a flurry of blood and feathers and screeching. Your wing hurt, leaving you unable to fly. 

Behind enemy lines. 

The first man to lunge at you got your beak to his throat, blood hot as it splashed across your face and chest. Maybe you'd have time to get to safety, maybe you could shift and–

Something heavy fell over your head, completely blocking your vision. You screeched, loud and angry, but more heavy things landed on top of you. Something held your wings firmly down against your sides, the pain sharp enough to make you try to jerk away. But you couldn't, too many hands grabbing you and securing you. 

Blind and trapped, you could only feel as you were picked up and moved. 

But you weren't dead yet, which was terrifying. 

People handed you off between them, and you tried to flap your wings or flex your claws or anything. But movement of any kind resulted in you being squeezed to the point of pain. 

With no way to see where you were or how many of them there were, you gave up. Conserved your strength, so you'd have a better chance of escape once you could see again. 

An engine rumbled to life, and you got squished in against a body. 

"Try anything funny and I will break your wing," a man hissed to you in heavily-accented English. You didn't doubt that he, or someone, would. 

So you behaved, because you wouldn't be able to escape if you had a broken wing. You listened to the occasional chatter in Arabic. You tried very hard not to panic. 

Sooner than you expected, the car stopped and you were once again handed off. The thing never came off your head, never let you see anything. 

But you could hear more people, orders shouted in Arabic, more movement. 

Oh this was bad. 

Someone carried you somewhere cooler. More movement around you, and for a brief moment you could see as the heavy thing over your head was yanked off - you could see two men in front of you, one of them grinning to show off two empty spaces where teeth should be. 

Then darkness again as a hood was secured over your head. You'd never been put in a falconry hood, but you knew immediately that's what it was, just from the feel of the leather and ties around your head. You screeched, trying to flap your wings. 

"Enough of that," a sharp voice scolded. You nearly startled to realize it sounded like a woman. There was another flurry of Arabic, orders it sounded like, and then hands grasped your right wing, the one with the bullet hole. Big hands held you in place, wing extended, other wing pinned to your side. 

You had no idea what they were doing until you heard the snip, snip, snip. You screeched, enraged and despairing and agonized. But they didn't stop, and there was nothing you could do. 

"There." The woman sounded far too smug, too pleased. "Now you can be my bird." She laughed, low and throaty and sadistic. 

You shivered, tucking your wings in as tight as you could, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Bells jingled as you moved and you froze in horror.

Hood and jesses. They were treating you like a falconry bird. 

If you could, you might have thrown up. As it was, you made a tiny distressed noise. 

A door shut somewhere nearby, leaving you with the terrible feeling that you were alone. 

You tried to pace off the room, but the fucking bells kept breaking your concentration. You could stretch your wings, at least, though the right one hurt. And the way the air moved around your wing was… wrong. 

That was all the confirmation you needed, even as you pulled your wings in tight again and huddled in place, shivering. They’d clipped your primaries. 

Even if the hood was gone, you wouldn’t be able to fly. 

You had no idea how long you stood there, alone in the forced darkness. Time was meaningless as you mentally went in circles. Simon knew you’d gone. There was a chance the other three had seen you or heard the commotion. People knew you were gone. 

Someone would come for you.

Or you’d be killed first. 

But you didn’t want to die, your pack needed you, you couldn’t leave them, they’d never forgive themselves if you died here–

The door opened hard enough that it slammed into the wall, and you jumped, wings flaring in agitation. 

“There’s my pretty bird,” the woman from before cooed, over-sweet and mocking. “Hungry yet?” Her steps were deliberately loud as she approached you. You stiffened, holding yourself tense, but didn’t move. “Now, are you going to cooperate? Be a good bird?” 

You didn’t reply, but you figured that lack of fighting would be a response. Because you had no idea where you were, and you held almost no power here. You knew that if you got too uppity, they’d make your life worse. Probably not kill you - they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that, and hadn’t yet. 

But you could think of plenty of things they could do to make things worse for you.

The hood was pulled off your head, and you blinked rapidly as you adjusted to the light. The room had no windows and only one door. The artificial light washed everything yellow. 

And, most importantly, left you no way to know how long it had been, how long you’d been gone. 

The woman in front of you wore khaki and brown, simple clothes that were more functional than fashionable. Brown eyes held yours, a smirk slowly stretching her lips when you refused to look away first. But she didn’t seem to care about a dominance game. She just stepped further into the room, setting down two bowls for you. 

Like you were a pet. 

Your stomach turned and you stayed very still, head tipped, watching her closely. 

“Well? Go on. Eat while you can.” Her grin had stretched into a cruel thing, showing too many teeth. 

You shuffle-hopped forward, the bells on the jesses setting off every nerve you had. You hated this. Hated her. But this wouldn’t be forever, you knew it wouldn’t. You needed to eat, needed the fuel to heal and save up for your escape (as soon as you had a decent plan). 

So, much as it grated on you, you ate from the bowl, keeping your gaze on her as much as you could. It felt demeaning, dehumanizing. 

You felt like some exotic pet. The feeling made your blood boil, made you seethe. But you were careful to do so very quietly, only to yourself. 

“Good bird,” she cooed mockingly. “We shall see how long it takes to train you.” 

Before you could do more than flare your wings in protest, the hood was shoved back on your head, plunging you into darkness once more. You flapped your wings twice, momentarily off-balance. 

The door shut. A lock clicked.

And you were alone again, in darkness and silence. 

It was impossible to track how much time had passed. You could hear only occasional muffled sounds beyond your room, had no way to mark the passage of time. 

The only breaks from the darkness were for food, always far enough apart that you were hungry, always the woman and one underling. Always demeaning. Always difficult. 

You suffered through five meals. Five meals. Each one worse than the last, with more taunting, more mocking. It was harder every time to not just leap at her and rip into her. 

But you remained patient, somehow. 

The muffled sound of gunfire drew your attention, and you moved back and forth restlessly. It was hard not to get your hopes up, after however many days of being stuck here. 

When the gunfire got louder and you heard the muffled shouts outside your door, satisfaction surged. That was probably your pack, coming for you.

And if it wasn’t, well… There was more than one way out of here. 

You waited for a lull in the fighting, in the shouting and gunshots and chaos. And then you screeched, as loud as you could. 

There. If that was your pack, they’d know it was you. If it was anybody else… You’d deal with that when you could. 

The fighting and gunfire got closer, and you backed up slowly, carefully. The jingling of the fucking jesses still grated, but it was easier to ignore with the fighting outside. 

There were two shots outside, two thuds. Your heart beat faster and you half-spread your wings, talons clicking against the floor. 

“Found her,” came Soap’s voice from the door, and the breath whooshed out of you all at once. “Fuck,” he ground out, as angry as you’d ever heard him. “Okay, ‘s just me, sweets. Ah’m gonna take this off, yeah?” Hands fumbled with the hood for a moment before it was gone, leaving you blinking and near-blinded by the sudden brightness. 

And there was Soap, clothes a little bloodied, expression torn between rage and sympathy. He spared a moment to smooth a hand over your head. 

“Can ye shift?” 

You clicked your beak and awkwardly held out one leg, jingling the jess still attached. 

His expression immediately darkened. “Ah’ll burn the whole place,” he swore, rapidly removing one jess, then the other. 

Relieved, you immediately shifted back. Your arm ached where the bullet hole had mostly healed, and you knew you probably looked a wreck. You felt a wreck, a little shaky and unsteady. But you were also determined to get the hell out. 

“Give me a gun,” you rasped, throat dry. 

“Ah donnae have supplies for ye,” Soap murmured apologetically, even as he unclipped his handgun and handed it to you. “Keep close.” 

You nodded silently, pushing down everything else. You’d deal with everything else later. 

Warm wetness on your feet made you look down as you followed Soap out of the room that had been your prison for however long. Two guards, both dead. Clean shots. Blood had pooled in the hallway. Your upper lip curled and you stepped carefully through the hall, not wanting to slip on anything. 

Soap motioned you to wait as you came up to a corner, and he peeked around first. A gunshot had him jerking back. 

“Counted eight,” he murmured to you. “Wait here.”

“But–” Your shoulders raised, and if you’d had feathers they would have been floofing out.

“Ye have no vest, no protection,” Soap pointed out, soft but firm. “Jus’ got ye back, sweets. Donnae ask me this.” 

And you deflated again. As much as you wanted to kill every bastard in the building yourself, he had a good point. “Okay,” you agreed quietly, grip tightening briefly on your gun. “I’ll wait.”

Soap pressed a quick, hard kiss to your temple before he was gone, picking off one before he even rounded the corner. You could do nothing but listen to the chaos and wait for the all clear to move up.

A scuff behind you had you whirling, gun up. The woman stood no more than ten paces away, teeth bared, a gun in her hand. 

“Well well, is this what pretty birdie looks like when she’s not a birdie?” She laughed, the sound unhinged, divorced from reality. “What a waste.” 

“Don’t move.” Your voice didn’t shake. Your hands didn’t shake. But your mind… your mind quailed. 

“What’s the matter, birdie? Missing your hood?” Her teeth were bloody, eyes fixed on you as she took a step closer. 

You swallowed hard, breath coming faster. If you never saw a hood again it would be too soon. 

“We can fix that.” She took another step forward, lifting the gun slowly, as if it was much heavier than it actually was. 

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t blink. You shot her, center mass. 

She fell. 

“Sweets?” Soap sounded only a little panicky. 

“Clear!” You swallowed. Then again. You were a medic, yes, but this was far from the first time you’d killed. You’d hoped this would bring a little peace.

Instead you were simply numb.

“Move up!” Soap called after another minute. You obeyed wordlessly, turning your back on the corpse without another thought. 

“How far?” you asked softly, stopping behind him, letting him be your shield again. 

“Not much farther.” He glanced back at you, worried. “Ye alright?” 

“Fine.” Your answer was short, clipped. Because you couldn’t think about being anything other than fine. “Let’s go.” 

Soap hesitated a moment longer, gaze searching your face, before he nodded once, slowly. Then he moved, keeping you behind him. You kept close to him, moving as quietly as possible, ignoring the tackiness of blood drying on your skin. 

He had you wait as he cleared one more room, and then the two of you met up with Gaz. Gaz breathed in sharply when he saw you but was quick to tug you to him in a hard hug, the edges of his vest and gear blunt and uncomfortable against your skin. You didn’t care, returning the hug with an edge of desperation. 

“Here,” Gaz murmured, pulling spare clothes from one of his pouches. “Couldn’t bring extra gear for you, but this’ll do for now.” 

You nodded, pulling the clothes on silently. They didn’t actually help you feel any better, but being with two of your pack did. 

“Price and Ghost are almost done,” Gaz told Soap, tucking you between the two so you were protected. “Ready to meet up?”

“Ready.” Soap grinned, brief and vicious. “Ye’ll like this,” he promised you, taking the lead. You followed him, Gaz on your six. The building was quiet now, tension thrumming under your skin. But you kept up, swallowing back your nerves as best you could. 

“All set up?” Soap asked as he stepped into a room. You followed, a little more cautious. 

“All set,” Price agreed, eyes immediately finding you. A bit of tension leaked from his shoulders and he smiled, just a little. “Ready to get out of here?” 

You nodded silently, but didn’t say anything. Which didn’t matter, because Ghost was in front of you in a few long strides, one hand gently cupping your cheek to tip your head. 

“Injuries?” he asked softly, gaze sweeping over you.

“Just my arm.” And your feathers, but you couldn’t think about that for longer than a moment or you’d start screaming. 

Ghost nodded, pulling you into his side. 

“Let’s go,” Price ordered, taking point. The others kept you in the middle between them all the way out. 

At a safe distance, the group of you turned. Soap waggled his eyebrows at you, grinning, before he pushed down on a detonator. 

The entire building collapsed, shaking apart as explosions ripped through it. It was incredibly cathartic to see. Or, well. It probably was. You were… kind of numb. 

“Here.” 

You blinked slowly to find Price holding out a water to you. Your hands trembled as you took it, drinking slowly under the watchful gaze of your pack. 

“It’s not far to exfil,” Gaz murmured, one hand resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the touch, breath momentarily hitching. 

“Okay.” You swallowed hard and took the protein bar Price handed over, eating mechanically. You could barely taste it. 

You knew this was bad, but. Not much to be done about it yet. 

“You alright to walk the rest of the way?” Price asked, glancing down at your feet. 

You blinked. You… couldn’t actually feel any discomfort from your feet, though you knew you should. You were standing barefoot on the ground, and it wasn’t even flat ground. “I’m fine.” 

Price eyed you for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he murmured. Contrary to his own words, he leaned in until he could press his forehead to yours, taking a moment to just breathe. Then he pulled back, once again taking point. 

You followed, a little slow but moving under your own power. At least you weren’t in pain. 

Yet. 

The heli was waiting for you when you arrived. You shivered briefly against the wind and hurried in, buckling in with shaking hands. Soap dropped down on one side of you, Gaz on your other side. They both double checked your harness. 

The flight back didn’t seem to take any time. You sat upright, tired and numb and cold, but unable to show any of that. You would eventually, you knew. You should probably warn your guys, you knew.

But you couldn’t. 

The heli set down with a bump and you jolted. Two pairs of hands steadied you, Gaz and Soap both looking at you with concern. 

But nobody said anything as they escorted you to medical. 

You answered anything directly asked of you, quiet and stiff. The bullet hole in your arm was deemed mostly healed (it should have been more healed, really, but you hadn’t eaten enough), and otherwise you were dehydrated and bruised, but mostly unharmed. 

The problem arose when one of the medics asked you to shift. 

“No.” The word was only a whisper but you leaned away, hands curling into fists, muscles pulling taut. 

The medic paused, eyeing you carefully. You were known to be more easy-going and cooperative, so this? Was unusual. “If you need privacy–”

“No.” It came out a little stronger this time, even as your gaze darted to the door, heart racing. No. Absolutely not. 

The medic slowly leaned back, away from you. But their voice was calm as they called, “Captain?” 

Price was in front of you a moment later, taking in your posture in a quick glance. He put one heavy hand on your shoulder, ducking his head to look you in the eyes for a moment. “Easy,” he murmured, frowning a little. “You done here?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the medic. 

“She hasn’t shifted yet, so we’re not technically done,” the medic explained. 

Price glanced down at you, and you shook your head, jaw clenched so tight your teeth ached. “Another time,” Price grunted, gently tugging you off the exam table. 

The medic sighed, exasperated but unwilling to fight. “Fine. Make sure she sleeps,” they ordered, moving out of the way. “And eats.”

Price nodded, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You tried not to focus on that, tried to focus on following him instead. But it was hard. The touch had been grounding, helpful. Helping to pull you back into yourself. 

“You should get cleaned up,” Price murmured, heading back towards your quarters. “It’ll help.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t manage more than that, couldn’t force more out. The numbness was slowly fading, leaving you aching. And tired. So very tired. 

Price paused outside your door, studying you. “Do you want someone here?” 

You swallowed and forced yourself to nod. You didn’t want to be alone. But you didn’t want anyone looking at you just yet, either. 

Price nodded slowly, brow furrowing a little. “I’ll stay,” he rumbled, pushing your door open and ushering you through first. “Get cleaned up, dress down for the evening.” 

You nodded wordlessly, slipping past him and grabbing comfortable clothes. You had a bathroom to yourself, something you were extremely grateful for, and you shut the door between yourself and your alpha. And then immediately opened it a crack, because you felt too trapped otherwise. 

Hot water felt heavenly, after everything. Getting to scrub your head felt heavenly. Everything else… Well. You definitely overdid it washing yourself, scratching your skin nearly raw in places. You did make yourself bleed again, accidentally breaking open the wound in your arm. 

But you finally felt clean enough for the moment and emerged, drying off and wrapping your head in a towel. That would do. 

Price was still sitting on your bed when you emerged, phone in hand, though he turned his gaze to you as soon as the door opened. His gaze lingered on your skin, and you knew he was making note of everything. But he didn’t comment. 

“Figured we’d go to the pack room,” he said, carefully phrasing it as an option, rather than an order. “Got Gaz and Soap bringing food.”

You nodded. “Food sounds good,” you admitted, walking over to him. You didn’t ask, just plastered yourself to his front, cheek pressed to his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of your alpha. Price hummed softly, one hand cupping the back of your head, his other settling on your back. 

“Take as long as you need,” he murmured, low and soothing. “We’ll walk together, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Just a minute. You just needed a minute. Price only held you tighter. 

You finally pulled back with one last deep breath. “Okay,” you croaked. “Let’s go.” 

Price didn’t object, but he did keep you close as the two of you walked to the pack room. Almost nobody was around, which worked out well, because you were starting to use your captain for help staying upright. 

No sooner had you stepped into the pack room than you got swarmed. Somehow, you weren’t exactly sure how, they settled you on the couch pressed up against Simon, with Gaz and Soap chattering as they made up plates of food, and Price hovering behind you and Simon. 

“Don’t ask,” you murmured to Simon, fairly sure Price could hear too. “Not yet.”

Simon hummed softly, carefully bundling you even closer to his side. “Not yet,” he agreed, about as soft as he ever got. 

Gaz and Soap carried the conversation through dinner, both of them settling around you as well until you were entirely enclosed by pack. It should have made you feel better.

It didn’t. 

All you could think of were the past eight days. Eight, you discovered when Soap let it slip. Eight days you’d been stuck in that hood and silence but for the jesses, treated like an animal.

It was almost enough to make you sick. 

You swallowed down what you could, but ended up leaving food. It was odd - you would have thought you’d be ravenous, after the last days. But you weren’t. You were barely hungry, only ate to try to stave off their concern. 

Which didn’t entirely work, from the quick looks and little touches you endured through the evening. 

And then you just… settled. Let one of them take your plate when it was obvious you weren’t going to eat more, and relaxed. Simon stayed on one side of you, refusing to move. You leaned more and more into him as your eyes tried to shut, until he simply pulled you in to use his chest as a pillow. You murmured something, half complaint half thanks, and closed your eyes, the soothing sounds of your pack settling around you. 

You woke to total darkness.

For a moment you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. If you moved you’d hear those damn bells, and there was no point because you couldn’t get anywhere, you were trapped, and your wings– your wings–

“Hey, hey, s’alright love,” Simon murmured urgently, hands patting at you. Which was when you realized you were keening, breath hitching in your chest. You still couldn’t see but you could feel your pack moving around you.

“Get the lights,” Price ordered. “Simon?” 

“Not sure.” Simon put one hand over your chest. “You need to breathe.” It wasn’t until he put your hand against his chest, letting you feel the exaggerated inflation of his lungs that you realized he was talking to you.

The lights flipped on, bright and sudden, and you went limp. You were fine. You were in the pack room. You didn’t have a hood on. 

“Love?” Simon leaned closer to you, eyes dark and worried. 

“‘M okay,” you gasped, blinking a few times, finally settling back into reality. “Just. A minute.” 

Simon didn’t move, just breathing in again. You did your best to follow along, nerves still strung taut from waking the way you did. Soap pressed up close to your side, his head resting near your hip. Your fingers curled gently in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp to help calm yourself. Based on his pleased hum, that’s what he’d wanted in the first place. 

“Better?” Price moved carefully closer, doing a quick visual check.

“Yeah.” You licked your lips, very aware of your dry throat now. “Just.” You clenched your jaw. Admitting weakness was never easy, and this was no different. “Couldn’t see.” 

Soap lifted his head to look at you. “Sweets,” he started, carefully, like he was feeling for land mines. “Did they keep the hood on ye?” 

You swallowed hard. “Except for when they brought me food.” 

“Hood?” Gaz asked, handing over a bottle of water to you, expression mostly blank. 

“And jesses,” you confirmed before taking a deep drink of water. 

“We’ll make sure there’s a light on for you,” Price said, before anyone else could say anything. Which was honestly for the best - you didn’t think you could talk any more about what had happened just yet. 

“You should go back to sleep,” you murmured, setting the water bottle down and scratching Soap’s scalp again. “Too early to be up.” 

“Hm.” Price tipped his head, looking at you. Then he huffed softly. “Stubborn.” 

You only had time to blink before he was settling back in with the rest of you, getting comfortable. The nest was big enough for all of you, because you’d made sure of that, but still. 

You didn’t think anyone would manage to get back to sleep, especially with the light on. But they surprised you - Gaz snored gently against Price’s ribs, while Soap used your hip as a pillow. (He always made the oddest choices.) Price didn’t sleep, but he did close his eyes and relax. 

Simon just kept you close, his steady breathing helping your own. 

Your pack didn’t quite hover the next few days. They did, however, take rotating shifts making sure someone stayed with you. Simon nudged you into the pack room every night. Gaz had pulled up a nightlight from somewhere, the soft yellow light always left on now. They didn’t let you feel ashamed of it, either, though shame still tried to wiggle into your brain. 

Things weren’t okay. Wouldn’t be okay for a while. But they were getting better. 

Except for your wings. 

You managed not to think about it most of the time, focused on staying human and getting through the worst of the aftereffects. Sure, it wasn’t conventional torture, but it was almost worse. 

Things finally came to a head when the rest of the pack shifted, Gaz and Soap racing outside immediately, growling playfully at each other. Ghost followed, more placid, looking at you once over his shoulder. 

Price stopped in front of you, the bear easily able to meet your gaze. You knew that if he stood up straight on his hind legs, he’d be much taller than you. 

“No.” Your smile was small and tight, pained. “You go. I’m not shifting.” 

His head tipped, fuzzy little ears flickering back towards the open door and back to you. He grunted softly and nosed your ribs gently. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll come out for a bit.” 

Satisfied, he huffed and went first, lumbering out the door. You followed him, briefly squinting against the light before you adjusted. 

Gaz and Soap raced across the open space, occasionally trying to trip each other or jump over each other. Soap even got bold enough to bite Ghost’s tail and run for it, angry cat hot on his tail and gaining fast. Price found a nice sunny spot to watch and make sure they didn’t actually go overboard. 

Pretty normal. Except for you. You stood stiff and still, watching them and making no effort to join. It was… too much. It wasn’t their fault, or yours. The only people responsible were dead. 

None of them looked when you slipped back inside, as quietly as you could. You had one more thing you needed to do, and you needed some privacy to do it. 

Your room was far enough from them that you didn’t worry about being found immediately. You carefully took off your clothes, folding them on your bed. One deep breath. Two. 

You could do this. Hell, you’d been doing this since you were a child. Nothing would stop you now.

You shifted between breaths, braced for… something. But nothing happened. You didn’t immediately panic.

Okay. So far so good. 

You spread your wings carefully, flapping them a few times. You could just see your reflection in the mirror. Your beak was just as sharp, your crest still upright. Bits of downy feathers stuck up from a lack of preening, but you ignored the vague feeling of wrongness. You had something more important to fix. 

Your primaries had all been cut on your right wing. Not just some of them. All of them. It would take months for them to molt on their own. Months of being grounded, being flightless, being useless. 

The soft, mournful sound ripped free from your throat, and you flapped again. You could hop, maybe get a bit of air. But you couldn’t fly, not like this.

Unless…

No. No, that was a terrible idea.

Except that it wasn’t, really, a terrible idea. The longer you stood there, head tipped, staring at your clipped feathers in the mirror, the more sense it made. 

One last deep breath in and you dipped your head, tipping your wing to make it easier. It took a little shuffling and a little preening to get the right feather in your beak. 

The first one came out cleanly, a few drips of blood accompanying it. You dropped the shaft to the floor, not giving yourself time to really feel the pain. You just did it again. And again. And again. 

Until the floor was littered with blood and snipped feathers, the red stark on the black and white banded feathers. Your wing burned and ached, throbbing in time with your heart, and your chest heaved with your panting, beak open. You felt almost dizzy with it, mind gone blank. 

“Sweets?” The panicked yell made you blink and cheep softly, though you didn’t move yet. Your door was unlocked. “Sweets, I smell blood.” Gaz hit the door a moment later, nearly tumbling inside when the door opened easily. He froze when he spotted you, anguish twisting his features. “Oh, Sweets, what did you do?” 

You chirped at him, turning carefully, keeping your right wing flared. 

Gaz knelt in front of you, ducking down to examine where you’d pulled out your feathers. “Doesn’t look like you’re still bleeding,” he murmured, almost absently preening your feathers. “But why–?” 

You chirped at him and picked up one of the feathers by the shaft, showing him the cut end. 

“Cut?” He frowned, gaze darting between you and the small pile of feathers, before realization hit. He swallowed hard, rage like a dark thundercloud. “But why pull them?”

You chirped softly, dropping the feather and hopping closer to him. You were not designed for flat floors, dammit, you were designed for trees! 

“Do you wanna shift?” Gaz asked, frowning a little at you.

You shook yourself. Now that you’d shifted, you actually felt a little better. Still kind of awful, because you couldn’t fly, but you didn’t feel quite as raw. 

He huffed. “Course not,” he agreed with a wry smile. “Can I help you preen?” 

You chirped softly again, ducking your head under his hand. He took it as permission, which it was, and began combing through your feathers gently. 

“Gonna have to talk to one of us eventually,” he murmured, hands gentle over your injured wing. “Can’t put it off forever.”

You clicked your beak at him and stretched, gently preening his hair. He huffed but allowed it, muttering something about you being a menace. 

Gaz ended up letting you perch on his arm as he walked back to the pack room. Price huffed at your wing, gently pulling it to get a better look. 

“Did you do this or did they?” His voice was calm, but you knew your alpha. He was not calm. 

You chirped softly, looking to Gaz to answer for you.

“She pulled ‘em, but they were clipped.” 

“Ah.” Price blew out a breath, fingers gentle as he checked your secondaries. “Force ‘em to come in sooner?”

You chirped a soft affirmative. 

“Gonna need to eat more, then.” The look he gave you told you this was not an argument you would win. So you didn’t fight. 

You let them take care of you and fuss (not too much), and you just worked on being better. 

It took time, but the worst of the nightmares faded. Pitch black still bothered you but it was manageable, rather than panic attack inducing every time. 

Things got better. 

Your feathers still hadn’t come in yet, but you could be patient a little while longer. You could feel the itch where they were forming and growing. Good enough. 

Your first op was supposed to be an easy one. Well. As easy as anything the 141 took on. 

You, Price, and Gaz were clearing one building while Soap and Ghost cleared another. It was… not easy, but routine. 

Until you stumbled over one man Gaz missed. 

The man was in the back of the room, laying low. You probably wouldn’t have spotted him except a bit of light fell right on a very familiar feather. The black and white banding could, hypothetically, have been from any number of birds. 

But you knew. 

An angry snarl twisted your lips, and you stepped intentionally into the room, barely remembering to call to Price over your shoulder, gaze locked on your target. Your gun was steady on him. 

He watched you right back, one hand reaching for a weapon from a fallen comrade in a way he probably thought was stealthy. 

The bullet you planted between him and the weapon disabused him of that notion. 

“Where did you get that feather?” you asked, voice low and growly. If you weren’t so focused, it would have startled you to hear how furious you sounded. 

He looked up at you and grinned, front two teeth missing. You jerked back, body recalling more vividly than your mind the sudden darkness that had followed that grin. 

“Easy,” Price murmured from behind you, just to the side. Close enough to support you and take the shot if you needed, but giving you space to do it yourself. 

You breathed in deep. And shot him. For many reasons, including not leaving an enemy alive at your back. 

But bending down to pull your feather from his shirt was just for you. 

“You broken?” Price watched you, giving you space still. Letting you decide.

You tucked the feather in your vest and smiled. “Not today.” You nudged him, tipping your head to rest against his shoulder for just a moment, before you started walking again. “If we finish up before Soap, he promised he’d buy cookies.” 

Price’s chuckle followed you out of the room. Gaz called over comms that the building was clear, and Soap started swearing. He and Gaz went back and forth on the matter of the cookies, easy bickering in the middle of everything else. 

You just laughed, knowing your pack had you. Always. 

#shifter au #f!reader #reader x 141 #john price x reader #simon “ghost” riley x reader #kyle “gaz” garrick x reader #johnny “soap” mactavish x reader

[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.

#ice storm over kosa #normal earth. then one day bam here's the crawling beasts. and THEN monsters happened #more on that later