Original Prompt:
>In Gryphonia, competition for a male is INCREDIBLY fierce.
>Being a monogamous culture that still suffers from Equestria's gender imbalance, males are usually fought over claw and bleak.
>When seeking a mate, a female gryphon will take up a position in a prominent public place, showing off her wings and performing elaborate bird displays.
>If a male likes what he sees he initiate a courtship dance back, and they're mated for life.
>Unless, of course, the female is defeated by a superior female.
>Screw the zeroes! Get yourself a hero! Right fellas?
>Even after successful initial courtship gryphons are always jealously protective of their mates, and vigilant for any potential challengers.
>In many years during the lead up until mating season full scale riots have broken out over a particularly desirable male.
>Some scumbags who revel in the attention will deliberately display back at multiple females, smirking with delight at the resulting violence.
>Those who can't get a mate their first year are generally laughed at.
>The embarrassment gets worse with each failed season after that.
 
>Anon moves out of Ponyville to escape herd obsessed mares.
>Finds the whole polyamory thing to be weird, moves to gryphonia instead.
>Rather than go for one of the dozens of big, muscly gryphons squawking at him in the town square, he does the human thing and finds himself a tiny, qt 3.14 who's shy, collects minis, and is utterly flabbergasted that scored a hot alien dude.
>Just like in her animoos...!
>After several weeks of loving birdmance an absolutely massive gryphon shows up and challenges birdwaifu for Anon.
>She's pretty much destroyed in the first fives seconds, left a heartbroken and sobbing mess in public.
>Everyone is utterly befuddled when Anonymous not only runs to his birdwife, but knocks out the challenger with a sledgehammer.
 
The Story:
>This was your absolute worst nightmare.
>Anonymous had wanted to go out and get groceries. He was going to get you some of those hares that you liked.
>Of course he did. Because he's absolutely PERFECT like that.
>Something in your hackles told you that it was a bad day to go out, but you didn't want to think it could still happen.
>You're NOT a cuck damnit, no matter what mom says! You weren't just gonna let your human go to market in the middle of season!
>So you put on your best "back off" face, hopped onto his shoulders, and rode into town on the best thing that ever happened to you.
>You almost thought things were gonna go well, too!
>No major crowds as you crossed the outskirts.
>No dirty SLOOTS tweeting at YOUR MAN as you went down the main road.
>Plus the Games Craftworks shop was gonna be open late that day hosting a few matches, and you'd convinced him to go with you.
>It never took much to convince him though.
>He really is perfect like that.
>Then, just as you turned the last corner before the market, it dawned on you just WHY no one was around.
>There was gonna be a fight. Big one too.
>There was a wing of guards flying overhead, circling around the market.
>Flocks of gryphons on the side of the road, whispering among themselves while their males tried to force themselves into the center of attention.
>Buncha hussies. Nonny never does that.
>You'd seen this stuff before, of course.
>Escorting dad to market during heat season when mom was out, you'd seen plenty of fights.
>One time when you were 8, you saw this absolute MOUNTAIN of a girl smash this other gryphon's beak into the side of the well.
>It cracked. She was in the hospital for 3 weeks after that.
>Her male didn't even TRY to hide how turned on he was. Started eating her out then and there.
>Shameless.
>Dad looked you in the eye that day, and told you you needed to eat your vegetables.
>Otherwise that'd be YOU getting your face smashed in.
>As the market came into view, you felt your stomach lurch.
>The square, centered around the old town well, was mostly empty, save for a few whispering on the sidelines and the merchants who were contract bound to stay until the bitter end.
>The Squirrel merchant seemed to be handing out more than usual...
>Like a show was about to start.
>Everybody there stopped what they were doing the exact moment you and anon crossed that invisible boundary.
>Fathers took their chicks by the hand and stormed off mid transaction.
>Mothers began nudging each other and hooting at you two.
>Nonny just set you down, then left with his wallet to start haggling.
>He...wasn't IN on this, was he?
>No.
>Couldn't be, you'd thought.
>Nobody's ever cared about tiny, frail little birdwaifu, so why would they care now?
>And that's when SHE showed up.
>Turning around, you didn't even have a moment to react before you felt something *CRACK!* against your skull.
>You slid, a limp husk of a bird, across the market place as bystanders began to cheer and heckle.
>Standing up, you saw your old tormentor Gerdie holding a bloody piece of plywood.
>No...
>Not like grade school...
>Not again!
>"Oops." She deadpans, a vicious smirk plastered all over that stupid face of hers.
>Standing up, you can see Anonymous out of the corner of your eye, watching what just went down.
>Waiting for you to give up and claw him over to the better bird.
>Gerdie takes notice and smirks, dropping the bird and pointing a powerful, commanding claw at him.
>"You." she says, completely sure of herself. "You're mine now." She says.
>Like the absolute alpha you WEREN'T.
>Like the absolute alpha who'd stolen your 2nd grade "birdfriend."
>Like the absolute alpha who was about to walk off with the only good thing in your life.
 
>And that's when you snapped.
>Your head was ringing, you could barely see out of one of your eyes, and you were pretty sure you had broken a claw on the stone.
>You charged.
>And were put down.
>As the world came back to you from the haze of pain and head trauma, you stared at the first thing to come into focus.
>Anonymous.
>Holding two fat hares in both hands.
>Looking utterly SHOCKED.
>You could feel Gerdie's claws clamping around your head, squeezing tight, raising you bruised noggin up before slamming it back down.
>Just to prove, to him, that she could do it easily.
>And that's when the tears started.
>You'd spent YEARS trying to pick up a husbando.
>Every season you went out there, in front of a community of winners, alphas, and leaders, and presented yourself.
>Your smaller than average wings.
>Your flat, ugly beak.
>And your weak sounding, high pitched voice.
>Just hoping, PRAYING to the ancestors that there'd be a male to love you in the same way that dad loved mom.
>And then you'd found something beyond your wildest dreams.
>And then you'd lost him.
>And then you started to cry in front of everybirdy.
>Calling out Anonymous's name, apologizing for not doing better for his honor.
>Knowing exactly what kind of gryphon Girdie was.
>How she liked to treat males...
>And there was nothing you could do but sob away the last of your dignity.
 
...
>And then Anonymous spoke.
>He started shouting his human words. The kind he used when he stubbed his "toe" that time you left your grinding stone out.
>Fake words to you, but not to him.
>Would Gerdie ever understand those words, in the same way that you did?
>Would she ever appreciate the meaning of "Fucknugget?"
>Obviously she wouldn't, because in that moment she experienced a severe case of head trauma.
>The claws clinging to your head, holding you prisoner in your shame, were torn away abruptly with a loud banging noise.
>Head swimming, you felt something wiggle beneath you, before the ground left.
>Murmured words, confusion, further human words, and the wind moving past your ears.
>Dirt against rubber soles, a door slamming open, and the special kind of warm words dad used to give you...
>Before mom lost, and he left you both for good.
>And then he was there.
>With dried tears on his face, dabbing at your bruised head with a rag.
>Blood (blood? whaa--?) on his hands, tender fingers that soothed and made the hurt go away.
>You felt a kiss on your beak.
>"Come back to me..." he whispered.
"Y-you too..." you managed...
>And then the world was gone.
 
>The first thing to strike you when you awoke was the splitting pain in your head.
>As you opened your eyes you caught a glimpse of rays of light dancing in through the window.
>A calm, orange afternoon at home.
>This, of course caused you all kinds of pain.
>"Naaaagh…" you groaned, covering your with the sheets as best you could.
Five more minutes Nonny!~ You were having that dream about Powercolt again and you were getting close…
>Oh wait…
>Through the haze of nausea and alingering sensitivity to light you feel a distinctly gross sinking feeling.
>Like…
>Like you just lost a fight over the best think in your life, and humiliated yourself in front of everybirdy.
>Some sod felt bad for you and carried you home…
>None of that matters now.
>You can feel the tears coming on again…
>You reach out, grasping for anything soft, pulling a pillow that still smells like him tightly to your chest.
>It's nothing compared to the feeling of his arm draped around you…
>Stomach pressed firmly against your back, as his wiglers trail down to do naughty things to your behind.
>Like you should've been doing…like the alpha he deserved.
>The sensations of crying, the noise, and the light coming through the windows just made your burgeoning migraine worse.
>Your stomach is churning in the worst way…
>Oh ancestors, you lost him…
 
>And that's when he walked in through the bedroom door.
>Is that dad's hare soup recipe you smell?
>That'd be nice right about now.
>If you weren't about to spill the contents of your stomach on the floor, anyways.
>You feel a familiar sensation across your back, little circles being rubbed into your back by soft little talons.
>"Shhhh, baby, hold on. Lemme get the trash bin."
>Soft paws leave the soup on a nearby table.
>Huh, so that was real.
"HUURRRGG"
>You vomit into an outheld waste bucket.
>Think you see the bones of that mouse you ate yesterday.
>You vomit a few more times, before you become aware of a dishrag gently padding against your beak.