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chinchillinbb · 3 years

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭

rating: t warnings: strong language word count: 929 requested: no summary: after a long day at work, you come back to your cat, who, after a year of being cursed by an eldritch deity whose name you can't pronounce, can now talk. and boy, is he snarky.

You blew a puff of hot air into the back of your already frozen car. Winter had decided to not only bare its teeth this year, but clamp firmly down onto any exposed skin. This was especially unfortunate when you worked in a combination bookstore/coffee shop. Lots of coffee orders, and no working heater because “the humidity is bad for the books”.

The one upside of working here was the pay. The owners knew the working conditions were only for the strong willed, especially during the winter, and took pity, along with offering a free coffee on your break. That meant you could afford to take care of a cat, which made your days infinitely better.

Today? Not even your fluffy orange cat, Squish, could restore your energy. You walked through the door before taking off your wet boots and throwing your extra 2 layers onto the floor with a grumble and a half. The space heater you bought at a garage sale 2 years ago was still chugging along, but you didn’t have it up very high while you were at work. Just because your pay was good didn’t mean that you were about to get freaky with your electric bill.

Finally wrapped up in a thick blanket, with the heater and some fluffy socks both on, you could cuddle with Squish. “How’s your day been, babes?”

“Fucking miserable. You?”

You froze. (Figuratively.) Maybe the hypothermia was getting to you. Could hypothermia make you hallucinate? Maybe you were mentally ill. File that away in your brain for a later Google search. But what kind of crazy person was gonna look at their normal, totally not talking cat, and ask them to do it again? You. “Hey Squish, I know you don’t like, talk, but um… on the off chance that you do, could you do it again?”

“Yeah, trust me, it’s been a real doozy having to keep my trap shut while you stumble around like an idiot, burning pasta and banging your hip into the table making dinner. Alas, it’s been 1 life since the beginning of my sentence, and now I can finally articulate just how dumb that shirt does make you look.”

While you were busy floundering at the revelation that your cat could, in fact, talk, and had strong opinions about your wardrobe choices (much less the fact that they’d somehow already lost a life), Squish was audibly sighing and groaning about how stupid you were, and how all cats are superior, and how they “might not even want to change back at this rate.”

“So… I mean, is this a thing all cats do? You sorta mentioned a punishment or a, um, a sentence, or something? Oh my god, I don’t have the money for a mental hospital, much less schizophrenia medication.” You lamented your issues, and wondered if maybe you had imagined your cat all along. Maybe they’d never actually been real.

Squish spoke up before you could panic more, “Okay, okay, chill. Not all cats are as great as me, no. I’m a special case. You know how Arachne got turned into a spider? I angered an eldritch being, and got bippity boppity booped into a house cat. Something about the experience being humbling, but to be honest? You feed me, and let me stay. It’s even warm in here, most of the time. Hey, speaking of which, what’s with the whole “no heater while you’re gone” thing?”

“My cat angered an eldritch being. Does that make me cursed, by extension, for pitying you?” You spluttered, pointing a finger accusingly in Squish’s face. If cats could look indignant, Squish was the best at it by far.

“You’re probably fine! Jesus, what a drama lord… Anyways, the only way to un-cat me is for me to either wait out nine lives, or to learn how to be humble. I picked you, because you seem to have cripplingly low self-esteem, and I’ve heard that being humble is supposed to make you undervalue yourself. You work in a freezing coffee shop/bookstore duo for objective pennies, so I figured you were the best fit.” Squish finished by jumping up onto the coffee table to eat your fake flower centerpiece.

Leveling them with a warning glare, you huffed, “Well, you did wonders for my “low self-esteem” by saying my top is ugly, thanks. And the heater stays off when I’m gone is to save money, not that you’d know anything about that, Sir Lap of Luxury.”

“I didn’t say the top was ugly, I said it made you look stupid.” Squish stared back with an even more intense scowl. It’s probably the fact that they have cat eyes, and by extension, thin, intimidating slits for pupils. Maybe that should be their new nickname. “Slits for Pupils”.

You plopped down on the couch and looked at the quickly cooling box of takeout you got. “You know, I have half a mind to toss you out right now. What if the elder deity you angered decides being a cat isn’t a good enough punishment, and comes back to finish the job? What if they kill me for being hospitable to what I thought was a slightly ornery, but cuddly, domestic cat?”

Squish continued staring in that apathetic, far off way that cats do sometimes, as though they know all the secrets to the universe and are trying to shoot them into your brain. It was oddly reassuring, considering the circumstances, and you supposed that this conversation could wait until you had eaten, before your food was wasted.

(a/n: discord is here)

#beast #catboy x reader #cat #shapeshifter x reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #eldritch gods #unnamed eldritch gods #to be precise #i wanted to be fluffy today #beauty and the beast au #except it's healthy and the beast learns to be humble <3

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chinchillinbb · 3 years

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𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐚

rating: m warning(s): violence, blood, yandere themes, female pronouns, reader is a baby when she first meets her soulmate, but there's no romance until she's grown word count: 1689 requested: yes; "yandere oni (japanese demon) x reader" requested by Alessandra39146 on quotev summary: soulmate marks are a rare thing to come by. it's rarer that your soulmate is a demon.

Amidst the roar of battle, and the cries of fear from men, there was a sound much softer: a babe’s cry. Brought into the world in chaos, (Y/n) was cursed to be followed by it her entire life. Little did she know exactly how terrible things were about to get. Their village massacred, her father dead, could things really get any worse?

To answer that question, I present to you Ryuji, the oni bringing down all of this carnage and pain. He had been a ruthless man in his life, and was made a demon instead of reincarnating. Ryuji had pale silvery blond hair, and eyes like honey. Two ivory horns sprouted above his eyebrows and sakura flowers sprouted around them, speckled with blood and twisting and turning to conceal the violent nature of them.

As he looked around at his destruction, Ryuji’s pointy ears twitched at the sound of crying. Stalking his way over to the noise to silence it, he found a mother, and a child with a soft tuft of (h/c) hair upon her head. The mother started begging, pleading with Ryuji not to hurt her or her child. It was almost funny to see someone begging an oni to be sympathetic. Did she not see the mess surrounding her?

Ryuji snatched the swaddled thing from her arms to inspect it. It wasn’t particularly loud, just consistent and annoying enough to make him grind his teeth. The baby kicked out a little, fleshy leg and cooed at him. As (Y/n)’s mother watched her leg move around, she looked at Ryuji’s horns, noting the sakura branches curling around them, similar to (Y/n)’s strange birthmark. “W-Wait! They might be of use to you! There’s a mark on their leg, and it looks like a cherry blossom, l-like the ones on your horns.”

Ryuji flipped the child over, inspecting the back of her legs before widening their eyes and scrunching up their nose incredulously. He scoffed; the universe must be joking. There was absolutely no way he was accepting this weak, crying baby as his soulmate. He visibly deflated and looked at the mother. “I’m taking this. It’s mine now. Your baby might be safe, but you’ll never see them again. No one will.” As he finished his sentence, he plunged his claws through her chest, ripping out her heart and getting little droplets of blood on (Y/n)’s blanket. “You’re mine, I suppose, and regardless of whether or not I want you, no one else can have you.”

A few years passed, and (Y/n) grew into a lovely young lady, never straying from her caretaker’s home. The small minka was surrounded by sakura trees on all sides, making quite lovely scenery. She never understood Ryuji’s obsession with the things, and they made her nose itch, but she put up with it for his sake, knowing he worried if she ever wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

(Y/n)’s kimono for the day was a light teal color, with orange and white koi fish painted onto it. She continuously kept a kanzashi covered in paper sakura petals that Ryuji had given her in her hair. He had told her that it wasn’t just a pretty ornament, and that if he ever wasn’t around, she should use it as a sharp dagger. She would never tell him this, but she usually just kept it in her pocket until he came around.

As (Y/n) was watering the plants in the garden, she heard the front door slide open, and Ryuji’s soft claws tapping along the tatami floors. She jumped up and ran to the front room, beaming at Ryuji and hopping from foot to foot, waiting for him to hug her as usual. When he did, she squeezed back with a vigor that only an isolated young girl could have.

“Ryuji, how did things go outside today?” (Y/n) lived for these stories, her only window into how the world worked. “Do you think I could go with you sometime soon now? It’s surely got to be fine by now.” Ryuji had lied a little bit. Over the years, he had gotten attached to (Y/n), and so he couldn’t just let her leave him once she got old enough to survive on her own. So, he told her that when she was born, the world was thrown into chaos, and that he had saved her from certain death. In a way, he had, but he had been the danger in the first place. “(Y/n), my little blossom. How many times do I have to tell you that it’s simply too monstrous out there for you? I promise to let you know when it’s safe.” Never.

Sighing, (Y/n) let go of the subject. Or at least, she did outwardly. Inside, she was fuming. Didn’t he know how old she was? She was almost to his shoulders, perfectly big enough to figure the world out herself. And so that’s what she’d do. She loved and respected Ryuji for saving her as a baby, but she wasn’t a baby anymore. (Y/n) decided that she’d just ignore how worried she knew he’d get. She’d come back eventually, and she wanted to experience more than cherry blossoms. It’s like a curse she couldn’t get away from.

As soon as Ryuji left the next day, (Y/n) grabbed the bag she had prepared and stowed away in her wardrobe. Sliding the door open quietly, she shivered at the early morning air. She looked around to find the path Ryuji usually took, and followed down the path.

Eventually, she reached a small market in the middle of a village, gazing around in wonder. Where were the corpses, and famine? All she could see were children playing with each other in the streets, and farmers leading cattle with wagons of bags of rice in them. No, there was no famine here. This society was thriving, and she could have perfectly well settled down here, protected even without Ryuji.

(Y/n) was reasonably angry, and in her fuming, she didn’t notice a large dog barreling towards her, or the young man yelling out to her. Coughing and waving dust out of her eyes, she pushed at the huge monster. “Takeo, down! I’m so, so sorry!” (Y/n) looked up and flushed, finding a tanned, muscular man looking down at her and offering her his hand. Taking it, she examined him some more. He had dark brown eyes, and a soft, apologetic smile. She had never seen a shinier black than his hair, reflecting the sun’s rays. “What’s your name? You looked a little lost. I’m Nakamura Yoshito, but just Yoshito is fine.”

“I’m (Y/n). I don’t really have a second name, so… I suppose just (Y/n) is fine as well.” She smiled back at him, happy to know people were not as mean or connivinh as Ryuji said they were.

Meanwhile, Ryuji could have sworn he saw (Y/n)’s black kimono from across the street. He narrowed his eyes and stomped across to her, losing his breath when he saw her talking to someone else. Had she not learned by now that she was his? Did he have to outright tell her that she belonged to him, and that she was never supposed to leave for good reason? What if this man steals her from him? What if he hurts her? A simple farmer boy could never give her what he could, and he’d have to show her.

(Y/n) had left shortly after promising Yoshito she’d come back when she could to eat yakitori with him. As Ryuji came back through the door, she quickly shut her wardrobe and raced to the front of the house. “Welcome back Ryuji!” Her smile was a little more than forced, since she was irate with him for lying to her. “Hello (Y/n). I brought you something, but before I give it to you, how did things go around here today?” (Y/n) froze; she hadn’t thought of a lie yet, and it was quite clear that he already knew she had been out, judging by his tone. Swallowing her fear, she looked him in the eyes and retorted, “Why did you lie to me? You know I’ve wanted to leave since I was little, so why would you lie?”

Ryuji sighed. “Really, I had hoped I wouldn’t have to explain this. We’re soulmates, flower. Your birthmark matches my… classification. Surely by now you’ve noticed how sakura blossoms tend to surround my being. When you were born, I was slaughtering your village because I felt like it. Your mother begged me to spare you, and you were going to die like the rest of the weaklings until she told me about a mark on your thigh, in the shape of a sakura flower. You are mine, and I protect what is mine, by any means necessary. If I have to lock you away by force, I’m ready and willing. Now, would you like to see your present?”

Horrified, you took a step back. Worried about the present, you thought of all the possible things it could be: chains, rope, more god awful sakura items. Instead, Ryuji pulled out something unbelievable. Yoshito’s head, eyes peacefully closed. You could have even imagined he was sleeping if he were still attached to the rest of his body. Recoiling, you let out a sob. Your first friend in the not so horrible world, gone. Ryuji smiled, glad you had gotten the message. “You are mine, and mine alone. He could have hurt you, and so I removed the threat.” You sunk down to the floor, trembling and shaking your head. No, no, no, no… This was all your fault. How could you have known? If you hadn’t accepted his help, he’d still be alive. He would have been dead for allowing his mutt to “hurt” you. No, you had to stay here, like Ryuji said, that way no one dies because of you ever again. Ryuji had won.

(a/n: discord is here)

#yandere demon x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere demon #female reader #x reader #reader insert #myths x reader #mythology

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chinchillinbb · 3 years

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𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐮

rating: m warnings: violence, gore, blood, graphic fight scenes, graphic description of a werewolf transformation, yandere themes word count: 1556 requested: no summary: you'd been afraid of canines since you were a child. dogs, wolves, puppies, all of them were terrifying to you. unfortunately for you, your local vendor had run out of fresh fruit for your bakery, and the woods surrounding you were just as full of wolves as they were fruits.

“I won’t settle and you know as much, Una. I don’t know why you tried to fool me with less than average goods.” Our (h/c) haired protagonist sighed, looking at a badly bruised peach. Una grimaced, balancing a mousy haired boy on her hip and shooing away a puppy at the same time. (Y/n) wrinkled their nose and ground out, “I’m a baker. If I use bad ingredients, my items will be bad. I figured you’d assume that.”

“(Y/n), the harvest just isn’t what we expected this year. There’s a sickness among the plants and we had to cut down a few trees to prevent spread. This is all I have to offer, and if you’d like fresher, you could always feel free to go into the forest,” she spat out, clearly frustrated with the dog. “But I refuse to be held responsible for whatever happens,” Una finished in a heave of air. “You know as well as I do that people don’t come back from there, but if you’re as desperate as you sound, go.”

(Y/n) crossed their arms, tapping a sandal against the ground. They thought, ‘Fine, maybe I will. I’m not scared of any animal… except mutts, and they’re easily scared off by fire.’ Squaring their shoulders, they marched back through town to their bakery. They rummaged around, grabbing the flint from the oven and a big chunk of wood as a precaution, a dagger, and a contraption used to hook around fruits or branches and pull them down to collect. Satisfied, they grabbed a sunhat before heading out.

Approaching the forest, (Y/n)’s nerves started to show themselves. The forest was incredibly dense, and easy to get lost in, but if they didn’t go, then they would starve anyway. No money meant no food for themselves, not even their goods. (Y/n) desperately wished they had enough money for a farm, or small garden at least, but they barely made enough for food and upkeep in the shop. Steeling themselves, they tiptoed in, biting a nail.

(Y/n) jumped at every sound, especially dog barks. They had been bitten and dragged off by a mistreated dog, starving and willing to eat anything smaller than it. (Y/n)’s parents had of course tried to help, but they didn’t have the sharp teeth or claws, much less the muscle, the hound did. No, (Y/n)’s memories of dogs were not fond ones, especially dirty, scruffy ones that looked badly taken care of. ‘If I see a dog, I’m climbing a tree. Stupid dogs can’t climb.’

Just as they thought that, they heard a howl. Close by. Most likely a female looking for a mate, but (Y/n) wasn’t taking any chances of her being hungry. Quickly scrambling into a tree, crying the whole way, they hoped they were high up enough to not get jumped at. Unfortunately, the wolf decided to walk by just then, alerted to the sniffling and the scream they had let out at the howl. At this point, (Y/n) was shaking so badly that a few leaves fell from the branch they were on top of, almost comically letting the light furred wolf know where they were.

The beast looked up, putting her (giant) paws on the tree and pushing a little, as though to test its strength. (Y/n) shook and sobbed even harder at this, knowing they were about to die because a dumb dog had them treed and they’d starve. The dog, however, seemed to laugh at this, letting out a short, harsh breath, nearly wheezing and shaking off her blondish fur. As she left, presumably to find easier prey, (Y/n) got down slowly, on quivering limbs.

(E/c) eyes narrowed in the direction the hound went, and decided to go the exact opposite. Meanwhile, Raksha, the wolf, watched from the shadows as the cutie that didn’t like wolves scurried away. She wondered why the person held a fear of dogs. Raksha had never seen anyone that wasn’t enamored with large, fluffy “puppies,” as they often squealed. Shedding a large, heavy wolfskin that formed a coat, Raksha went the same direction as (Y/n), intending to ask her questions.

“Wait! Stranger! There’s a wolf nearby!” She ran up to the (h/l), (h/c) haired wanderer.

“I was made well aware of that a few moments ago when the damned thing chased me up a tree,” (Y/n) huffed.

“Well, um… let me accompany you to wherever you’re going, please? I’d feel like garbage if I let someone as pretty as you end up eaten,” Raksha reasoned with a shrug.

“Fine, but if you slow me down, I’m leaving you in the dust. I’m looking for fruits to bake into pastries. What’s your name? So I’m not just saying, ‘Hey, you!’ every five minutes.”

“I’m Raksha! My mother named me after the moon, for my hair.” The girl grinned rather… “wolfishly” herself. Indeed, her hair was thick, and curly, and looked very hard to untangle. There were vines peeking out in some places amidst the silvery blonde, matching her wild child stereotype, and her eyes. She was darker than anyone in the village, meaning she had to be a traveler of sorts, and it looked like her eyes were lined with some white substance, but (Y/n) couldn’t be sure of what. “I’m…“ Did they really want to give out their name to a strange girl in the woods? No. “I’m (Y/n).” Damn.

A few moments passed of them walking together, with Raksha behind (Y/n). Suddenly, Raksha pipes up, albeit quietly. “Hey, (Y/n), why do you hate dogs so much?” Everything seemed to stop at this point, with a stray howl in the background. (Y/n) tensed up, and instead of answering, started to run. Raksha perked up and panicked; if the stranger got eaten, Raksha would never get answers.

She ran after them, always a little further behind. She could be faster if she were a wolf right about now, but it’d look a little weird, and would only scare (Y/n) into running more. Instead, she pushed through until she found a clearing, and consequently, (Y/n), cornered by a pack. “Farkas, let her go! I found her first and I was busy asking her questions!” Raksha crossed her arms and pouted, whining under her breath about ‘not fair,’ and ‘stupid mutt.’

(Y/n) started hyperventilating as one of the wolves’ bones started cracking, breaking through their skin and popping out, before being sealed over again with flesh. After the transformation, there was a short, red-headed man, pale and clothed with just a wolfskin tied around his waist. Farkas, (Y/n) had gathered by now, was a werewolf. And if Raksha knew him by name… Oh God, no. They were surrounded by werewolves. Not only did they have the sickening minds of humans, they had the lethal, nature-given weapons of claws and teeth. They could outrun her in seconds if they chose, being so big.

Raksha growled and snarled at this ‘Farkas’ man, as if telling him to step away slowly and they could forget it. Farkas barked out a laugh, circling (Y/n) and sinking sharp nails into their chin and watching tiny wounds be created. If he pressed any harder, he might start to claw at their jawbone. (Y/n) whimpered, sobbing from the pain and the stress. All they wanted was to get some fresher, not diseased fruit. They had begged at the beginning that if they were to die here, it might be quick, but these beasts, these monsters seemed bent on psychologically torturing their prey, mentally playing with their food.

Farkas finally actually spoke, but only a short few phrases. “I'll not let her go easily. You’ll have to pay, Raksha.” Raksha started nervously fidgeting, scratching her left shoulder with her right hand and breathing heavily. She gritted out, “You know the rules, Farkas, I found the pretty human first, and so they're mine to take. If I have to, I’ll fight you, but I don’t want to. Please don’t make me do this in front of such polite company.”

“It seems you’ll have to fight, runt. You don’t deserve such a nice little thing without some extra work.”

All (Y/n) remembered after that was that there was suddenly red water raining from the sky. At least, they tried to convince themselves it was water. Their subconscious couldn’t even begin to process the way Raksha ripped 5 hounds and one man limb from limb, using broken, jagged femurs to stab into the dead bodies over and over again, screaming about how ‘everything is always taken because she’s weak,’ and that she’ll ‘never let it happen again because she’s strong now, and she’s proven it to her human.’ (Y/n) didn’t want to be anything to this bloodied mess of a woman, her hair looking more reddish brown than blonde now.

“Come on, (Y/n), get up. I’ll take you back to my place, and you can finish telling me about why you’re afraid of dogs. And then after that, I’ll play with your hair and give you kisses, to show you that all dogs aren’t nasty!” If only Raksha knew how ironic that very statement was right now. (a/n: discord is here)

#yandere!werewolf x reader #werewolf #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #myths x reader #mythology #wlw #nblw #wlnb #i wanted a buff himboesque werewolf lady #so i wrote it #women <3 #poc women especially

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chinchillinbb · 3 years

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𝐜𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞

rating: t warnings: strong language, yandere themes word count: 1270 requested: no summary: you're a roman soldier, battling the gaul, when one of their local cryptids becomes a little too interested in you.

Sighing, (Y/n) dipped their feet into the water at the edge of the shore. They wiped the sweat off of their head from running around training all day. Fighting a war was hard, but conditioning was even harder. The sun decided to eliminate all clouds today, and the only shelter from its rays was in the oasis, beneath the fig trees.

They looked out to the sea, laying back on the hot dock. Suddenly, (Y/n) jumped up as something tickled their bare foot. “What on earth…?” They grabbed the dull pugio their centurion had given them for training and cautiously peered back over the edge, narrowing their eyes.

Splash! A giant fish’s tail sprayed water into (Y/n)’s face, making them sputter. Glaring, (Y/n) jumped down into the sand, treading into the water below the dock. Something grabbed their ankle, pulling them far away from the shore, even past the riptides. Unfortunately for (Y/n), the Romans had felt no need to train them in holding their breath or fighting underwater. The most they could do was flail, which was the worst choice, using up even more energy and oxygen.

Right before (Y/n) was about to give up, whatever - no, whoever - had grabbed them flung them up through the air onto a small, flat surface. (Y/n) spit out salty seawater, shaking their head and flinging tiny droplets everywhere. They jerked their head over when they heard someone huffing. A woman? If it was possible, (Y/n)’s eyes would have gotten even wider as the lady pulled herself up to reveal… a tail. Oh god. (Y/n) was dead, right? There’s no way fish women existed. (Y/n) tried everything: pinching, closing their eyes and wishing. But the woman sat, seemingly equally as astonished as (Y/n).

Nix (she had known no other name except her species’) stared at the beautiful thing. It had legs, like a chicken, but less feathery, with more meat. (H/c) fur sprouted from the top of its head, and its skin was gorgeous, a flawless (s/t) tint. And its eyes, oh, its eyes; they were more vibrant than the most colorful coral, shinier than the scales of a lionfish, a spectacular shade of (e/c).

Nix wanted those features, and she would have them.

Nix shed her fins, leaving behind a husk of a tail. (Y/n) could only gaze on in horror before leaping to their feet and gripping their dagger even tighter. For all they knew, this was a new enemy, a bargain with the gods made by the Gaul. Yes, she was very pretty, and had skin like gold, and hair the color of wine, and eyes like a field of wheat, and - it was not the time to be admiring the enemy. (Y/n) kept their guard up, thoroughly embarrassed. This simply made Nix admire them more; the way their skin warmed under the sun, and they looked down, saying something to themselves. Nix figured it was time she asked. “I am Nix. I want your face. Can I have it?”

(Y/n) blanched, in stark contrast to their previous flush. “I- no, you cannot! Who do you work for? If you’re working with the Gaul, I’ll have to bring you back to my centurion. State your name, and- and take me back to the dock.” Nix chuckled, her ruby eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m Nix, and I don’t have to do anything. Give me your face and I’ll take you back.” (Y/n) whined in frustration, something they maybe shouldn’t have done as a soldier. “I can’t just give you my face! I don’t know how to do that.” Nix frowned, the action making (Y/n)’s knees buckle. Looking at the pretty animal on the ground, Nix gave them an ultimatum. “You can either give me your features or stay here. I’ll bring you food and fresh water, but until then, I won’t let you go.”

Nix walked back over to the edge, simply stepping off into the waters and sending up a fountain. When (Y/n) went over to the edge, they saw a tail again, and… sharks? Great, no jumping in and trying to swim back. They looked at Nix, and she waved before disappearing.

(Y/n) decided to just get some sleep and bargain with the creature the next day. Maybe they could convince her and make her understand that they can’t give her their face, and that they have to leave. And if not, well… maybe ask for a blanket?

The next day, Nix came back as promised, and brought some seaweed to let it dry out on the rocks for food. She was having trouble figuring out how she would get water for (Y/n), until her captive begrudgingly sighed and handed over their wineskin. Once she had accomplished that task, she hopped up onto the rocks once more and started inspecting (Y/n)’s face. “What are you, thing?”

(Y/n) grimaced at a claw sliding down their cheek, and replied, “I’m Roman. From Rome.”

Nix whispered the word back to herself softly, eyes glazing over in thought. Meanwhile, (Y/n) had a plan to save themselves, but it would require more seaweed. “Nix, I need lots of seaweed to stay alive. Do you think you could find more? Bundles of it, actually, as much as you can find.”

Nix smirked with pride, thinking the Roman was challenging her hunting skill. “Fine, I will be back within the hour. Drink your water and eat what’s here for now, because once I return, I’ll have to leave until tomorrow.” Perfect.

(Y/n) had plenty of time to carry out their plan. They would weave the seaweed until it was hardened into a sort of raft, and paddle back to shore, hopefully. Although, they had forgotten to ask if Nix had a blanket of sorts.

Nix returned with armfuls of seaweed, and a shark entourage behind her carrying even more. Soon, there was a pile larger than a lion sitting on (Y/n)’s plateau. As soon as she came, Nix was gone, and they began to weave.

As dawn was approaching, (Y/n) tied the last knot, slipping the “raft” (more of a floating board) into the water to see if it would actually float, and thank the gods, it did. (Y/n) jumped off and paddled with their hands as fast as they could, knowing Nix would be back to check soon, and would hunt them down once she discovered them missing.

(Y/n) saw the shore and let out a breath of relief a little too soon. Nix had found their treasure missing, and was swimming through the waters towards the raft. Deciding it would be easier to just swim, (Y/n) hopped off the raft and kicked as hard as they could towards the grassy marsh. Just as they got their feet up under them, Nix caught up, and gripped her claws around their ankle, tugging. With one harsh kick to the face, (Y/n) heard her nose crack, distracting her so they could run.

When (Y/n) made it back to the camp, tattered, they were berated for being gone and not telling anyone. Even as they tried to explain what happened, their centurion gave them a disdainful look, called them a liar, and assigned them to chariot cleaning for the month. (a/n: discord is here)

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere mermaid #mermaid #siren #nix #one shot #oneshot #cross posted on ao3 #gender neutral reader #myths x reader #mythology

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chinchillinbb · 3 years

Text

𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐬

rating: t warnings: strong language, drugging, yandere themes word count: 1899 requested: no summary: your family's chickens have been getting attacked, and you are going to starve. in an effort to save them, and yourself, you set out to hunt the animal terrorizing them, and come across a baby leukrokottas.

“(Y/n)! Come help me with the chickens please,” your mother calls from the yard. Groaning and stretching, you get up from the kitchen table and meander your way out to her. “Stupid birds,” you mutter out. As you walk down the path, you both curse and rejoice at the fact that there’s hardly any of them left, due to a wild animal stealing them at night. Your father tried to stay up once, and says he must have fallen asleep, because he didn’t remember the night and woke up to two hens missing again. You idly wonder what animal might be taking them, picking up a hen to see if she’s laid any eggs. None. Whatever the thing is must be spooking her.

As you continue your search, you start to think of stories your mother used to tell you to keep you out of the woods as a child, stories about witches and their familiars called leukrokottai, big large animals bred from hyenas and lions. Their tail, chest, and neck are that of a lion, while their rear end is like that of a stag.

The head looks like a badger’s, but has horns sprouting from in front of their ears like tree branches. Their horns vaguely resemble a moose (or a gazelle if they’re female). They have mouths that unhinge and go back as far as their ears, to fit small children inside so they can take them to their master for dinner. Instead of teeth, they have rows upon rows of sharp and hard bone ridges, to grind and tear simultaneously.

They never close their eyes, always looking for prey, and the only advantage humans have against them is that they have such a rigid spine that they have to turn their whole body around if they’re waiting to pounce. Otherwise, they can slink around trees like snakes. They’re as large as donkeys, as brave as lions, as swift as horses, and as strong as bulls. They can’t be killed by steel, and can mimic other animals’ voices to lure men to them.

The tale certainly kept you out of the forest as a child; what kid is going to risk coming across a thing like that? Not you, that’s for sure. You at least had half a brain. It’s probably a regular hyena taking the hens, not that that’s any better, really. But, on the bright side, hyenas can be shot. Now that you were older and knew such things didn’t exist, the forest was not nearly as scary.

You lift up the measly basket of 4 eggs and walk over to your mother, hoping she had more luck. Sadly, there’s only a combined 7 between you. Not enough to last. She sighs and tears start to well in her eyes. She knows this means bad news. “Mama, what if I go look for more animals? Deeper in the forest? There’s got to be something, even just a few squirrels.”

Your mother looks down into the basket, contemplative. On the one hand, you’re her only child. On the other, if someone doesn’t go, they’ll all starve. Your father is too old for the task, and without him to protect you from the hyenas, they might slip in through a window and devour you. She sighs and relents, knowing nothing else can be done.

After dressing warmly in a green velvet cloak (a well-worn gift from your father from your childhood) and a pair of pants lined with wool, you slip on your boots, ready to face the forest you’ve never actually gone in before.

Trekking through snow with your knife - your mother refuses to let you handle the gun, a bullet wound could be deadly right now - you look around, surprised at how pretty such a dangerous place could be. The evergreens hold big piles of snow atop their strong branches, and the sun glints off the thin blanket that lies on the floor of the forest. It’s like being surrounded by a crystal city, or maybe a faerie city.

In the midst of walking along, you hear a rustle above you and stop. You look into the trees in time to see a shadow pass over you. It’s rather big, and a few branches snap down and hit your head. Huffing, you wonder if it was a large bird. There’s no way you’d catch it with just a knife. Moving on, but tentatively, your mind travels back to your story. Your mother hadn’t focused all that much on the witches’ roles in the story, but you almost wonder why they’d choose a creature like a leukrokottas. You suppose they’re good hunters, but couldn’t a gryphon or chimera do the same?

Lost in your thoughts, you make just enough noise for you not to hear the rustling behind you. Breaking out of it and screaming at a particularly gentle pat on the leg, you turn around just in time to see what looks like a baby badger.

Except… this badger is fluffier than usual and its eyes are like sparkling rubies, crystallized and fractalic. There’s a yellowed poof around their neck that very nearly takes up its entire body, with a long tail to match. And it has horns that come out above its eyes, resembling a young deer.

You pick them up to examine them, and they open their mouth to reveal little baby… ridges? You coo at the cute little thing; they’re very chubby, and feel about like a puppy would. Flipping them onto their stomach reveals two hooves on its back legs. You blanch and realize exactly what you’re holding. A baby leukrokottas, which means their mother, or worse, master, is not far behind.

Hearing a rustle, you hold the cub close to your chest, under your cloak, and pull out your knife. Emerging from the trees is a young man, with silvery white hair resembling the cub’s mane, and eyes the color of the leukrokottas’.

For a moment, you both stare at each other, until he narrows his eyes and frowns. “You have my familiar. Would you mind giving them back? They’re a baby,” he grumbles as he steps forward and you shrink. “I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t know they were yours.” You unwrap the cub and reveal it to already be asleep, warm and cozy. The man’s eyes soften, knowing they’re safe and cared for, and not killed for their pelt.

“I wouldn’t want to wake them. Come with me, and I’ll take you to my house. What’s your name?” he asks, drawing something in the sand. You step a little closer to get a better look, still cuddling the leukrokottas as you say, “My name is (Y/n) (L/n), what’s yours? I can’t just go off with someone whose name I don’t know.” He finishes, blowing a lick of flame close to his fingers to warm them. “You can call me Victor. I don’t have a given name that I can remember.”

He steps onto the drawing, gesturing you over before grabbing the back of your neck and transporting you before a little cabin. He starts walking, looking back to check on the cub most likely. You hop up frozen steps carefully, not wanting to injure yourself or the leukrokottas.

“Come in and I’ll make you some tea. Don’t worry, nothing poisonous or strange,” he deadpans. “Just plain green tea.” You sit down on the couch, noticeably relaxed as the leukrokottas wakes up, yawning and exposing their large maw. You run your fingers through their thick mane, which is softer than you would have thought. You’ve grown a little attached at this point, and don’t know exactly if you’d want to leave and never come back.

Victor walks out of the kitchen and hands you a mug of steaming tea. You take a sip and are pleasantly surprised at how sweet it is, just how you like it. “So, I assume you have questions, yes? Well, I’m here to answer.” He smiles, a little more friendly now that he’s not stressed.

“Why do you only have a baby leukrokottas? Where’s its mother?” He gives a short laugh, calling out a name you can’t pronounce. “Λουλούδι*! Come!” All of the sudden, the wooden floors creak and the back door opens to reveal a fully fledged leukrokottas, matching the baby in horns and eyes, except, of course, a considerate bit taller. You stare in wonder, and a little bit of fear as she looks at Victor expectantly. “I’d like you to meet someone. This is (Y/n). They found ευήλιος** for me and kept him safe and warm until I got there. They’re alright, so no eating them if you find them lost here, yes?” The creature grunts and plops down on the floor, the cub worming out of your grasp to get to his mother.

Suddenly, you remember why you’re here. “Well, as lovely as it was to meet you, I’d better be going. My family’s chickens have been going missing, and I have to find something to eat before tonight, or we’ll starve.” Victor raises an eyebrow and looks over at the mother, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Λουλούδι… do you have any idea what this might be about, hmm?” If she could look any more smug, she would. “I’m so sorry she’s been doing that, you’ll have to let me repay you.”

“Oh, no, I’ll be fine! I’m a capable hunter I like to think, and she’s a bit much to control, right?” Victor looks at you like you’re dumb before you realize he’s a witch and can do a lot of things you regularly couldn’t. “To repay you, you can stay with me. I’m afraid I can’t do much for your family besides controlling Λουλούδι, but they weren’t my true target anyways.” Suddenly your limbs feel very heavy. You panic and go to reach for your knife, but Victor pulls it out of his coat. “I’m hurt that you’d pull that kind of move on me, (Y/n), really, I am. I’m a witch, silly. This baby knife couldn’t hurt me.”

He stands and walks over to you to sit next to you. “I suppose while you’re sedated, I could tell you about how I purposely sent Λουλούδι to eat the chickens, to force you to come into this forest. I knew it was only a matter of time before such a pretty thing got desperate and walked in. That’s when I dropped off ευήλιος, to be a conversation starter of sorts. Grown leukrokottai are a bit scary, but the young are very pudgy and soft, like small seals. He was a little more inviting than his mother might have been. Now I’m sure you’re wondering, ‘Oh, why me?’ or, ‘Are you going to eat me now like my mother said?’ Rest assured, I have no intention of eating you; that’s Λουλούδι’s job. As for why, you’re just the prettiest in this world, my little dove. I like pretty things, and so now you’re mine.” He smiles after dumping all this onto your groggy brain, humming a song.

You start to cry a little, knowing you’ll never see your gentle mother and fussy father ever again. Hell, even the damn chickens will be something you’ll miss. As you fall asleep to Victor’s humming, all you can think of is how you should have listened to the stories, and how looks are deceiving. Even baby leukrokottai can be dangerous. (a/n: discord is here)

#leukrokottas #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #myths x reader #mythology #reader insert #drabble #oneshot #one shot

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chinchillinbb · 3 years

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞

rating: t warnings: strong language, yandere themes, waxing poetic except i'm not good at soft poetry word count: 1912 requested: no summary: a retelling of the story of daphne and apollo.

(Y/n) was a river nymph, a naiad, feared by most all beasts. They guarded their father’s sacred river and were proficient with both javelin and sword. They were as lovely as the Charites, three goddesses of beauty and grace, with (h/l), (h/c) hair, and (e/c) eyes that glimmered to rival the purest of gems. It was said they were blessed by Athena with their wit and wisdom. All in all, they could only be described as a headstrong, with hardly anyone to keep them in check regularly.

Unfortunately, around the same time, Apollo was feuding with Eros, mocking him for being among the younger of the gods, and using archery to create love instead of defeat enemies. Apollo was crafted with thick, black curls, honeyed skin, and, aptly enough, golden eyes like the sun. “What are you doing with that, kid? You’ll poke your eye out,” Apollo chuckled. “You might want to leave the fighting and weapons to the more skilled, who actually know what to use them for, instead of shooting people with love.” Eros narrowed his eyes and spit out, “Apollo, if you’re so sure my arrows are harmless, then I suppose I'm forced to prove the contrary.”

While Apollo was scoffing and ignoring Eros’ warning, Eros was plotting against him. Eros decided that he would shoot Apollo with a golden arrow, and a river nymph with a lead arrow. The particular nymph he chose was named (Y/n), and they already had a stern dislike for sexual and romantic relations, having taken strongly after Apollo’s sister Artemis instead. They expected that if they gave in to their father’s pleas for a son-in-law to continue ruling when he died, and finally accepted a spouse, they would lose most of their freedom. Besides the point, nymphs were generally immortal compared to humans. So long as (Y/n)’s river flowed, (Y/n) would live.

Eros’ golden arrow would make Apollo madly obsessed with them, and the lead arrow would only further (Y/n)’s hatred for him. Apollo would be forever courting them unless he apologized to Eros and begged for his help, which would be satisfying, to say the least, for the love god, and humbling at most for Apollo. Eros struck in the night when Apollo was asleep, and put his plan in place.

The next day, Apollo woke and sailed his chariot across the sky in his usual routine, distracted by thoughts of a river nymph he had flirted with the evening before. He couldn’t think of anything but them, their strong (s/c) legs, their smooth back exposed by their robes, their nourished, (h/c) hair. He went to visit (Y/n)’s river, in the hopes that he’d find them. And find them he did, as they were filling a vase with water.

He landed behind them, making them shoot up and grab their javelin from leaning on the tree before relaxing a little, seeing it was Apollo. Pursing their lips with a strained smile, more like a grimace, they forced out, “To what do I owe the honor, my lord?” (Y/n) had always tried to be civil with him, considering they took after his sister and wouldn’t want to displease her. Don’t be fooled, it was certainly not for Apollo. (Y/n) viewed him as nothing more than a man with loose morals, and in their eyes, he was untrustworthy and brash.

Apollo’s breath hitched in his chest at the sight of them. He had never seen a more beautiful nymph in his life, and that was saying something when it came to Apollo. He plastered on a confident smirk and leaned against a tree. “Oh, nothing, I just thought I saw a star on earth. I was mistaken, it’s only a lovely naiad.” (Y/n) was not impressed, and deadpanned at the thought of being involved with Apollo. “Thank you, my lord, but compliments are unnecessary and futile. I have no interest in companionship, and would prefer to stay with my river.”

Apollo’s smirk faltered for just a moment, before it fell to a frown as he said, “Pretty naiad, why do you hate me so?” (Y/n) stiffened. If they answered truthfully and said because the worms beneath their feet had stricter ethical boundaries, they could invoke his wrath and get turned into a sheep for his flock, but if they lied, they could be leading him on. In the end, they decided to twist their words and say, “My lord, I do not hate you, per se, not specifically. I just don’t feel the need for a lover, and fear that I might lose my freedom being chained to another person.”

Apollo, dejected, climbed back into his chariot. He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, saying, “My love, I will return tomorrow to try again. I do hope you think about me fondly, and that your answer might change by tomorrow.” As he flew off, a frustrated scream that could be heard above a waterfall resounded through the trees.

(Y/n) stomped through the forest to their father, Peneus, a river god. Marching into his home, they pointed a finger at him and exclaimed, “Dad, you have to do something, and I mean right now. A man keeps coming around, a god in fact. I’m sure you know of him. Apollo. I thought we had agreed that I didn’t have to marry if I didn’t want to!” Peneus startled, a wrinkled, soft old man, seemingly worn down like a river stone. “My lovely child, what are you talking about?” He tilted his head and said, “I haven’t contacted any suitors since you asked me not to.”

(Y/n)’s face fell, and they apologized for yelling at him, “It's not your fault then. I'm really sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to blow up like that.” They wrapped their arms around him and sighed. “What am I supposed to do about this? I mean, he says he'll be back tomorrow, but Dad, he's worse than a pig! He does nothing but fool around and shirk his responsibilities.” Peneus chuckled and said, “Dear, there has never been an obstacle you couldn’t overcome. You are as wise as Athena, blessed, even. I have complete faith you will figure it out, but I am here to help you if you need it.” As (Y/n) walked out of their father’s temple, their head hung low. They didn't have a clue what to do, besides tend to the river’s wildlife and wait for Apollo to come back. Arriving at the river, they were taken aback by numerous jars of perfumes and oils, even one with a cream for their skin. They groaned and got in the river, sinking below the warm waters at the shore to bathe.

When they got out, they picked a vase at random and found a sweet smelling perfume within. Dabbing their neck and wrists with it, they then settled in for another night of watching the river and protecting it from men who would seek to desecrate it.

Come morning, as promised, Apollo came down grinning, yelling across the river, “Hello, my lovely nymph! How did you like the gifts I brought you?” (Y/n) hummed, their suspicions confirmed. Today, there was something different about Apollo’s grin, something wolfish. His eyes latched onto their every move like a falcon hunting a dove. He stalked across the river, which might have seemed normal in any other situation.

Meanwhile, Apollo was locked onto his target. Similarly, yet twisted, he thought they were as pure as a dove, or sacrificial lamb, all offered up for him. He relished in the slight fear in their beautiful eyes, and the way they froze like a gazelle at the sight of him. He absentmindedly wondered what it would be like to see them swathed in sunlight, in his element.

(Y/n), unfortunately for Apollo, viewed him not as someone in love with them, but as an enemy. And they did not bow to anyone. Mustering up their courage, they stalked over to him, feeling small in comparison to the aura of a god. Their (e/c) eyes were as sharp and rough as raging white waves, and their movements as swift as their river. “Apollo. I beg your forgiveness, but I do not return your feelings. The gifts were lovely, but I’d like to make clear that I will never love you. You are simply not trustworthy, and frankly, your ethics disgust me. I’d like for you to leave, and never come back.”

Apollo quite obviously did not take kindly to these words, and instead started glaring and setting fire to the trees around him like an unkind dry heat. He marched towards them, snarling like some wild animal, as (Y/n) rethought their false bravery and turned around to run away. As they ran through the trees, (Y/n) could hear him, feel his heat, constantly nipping at their heels like some sheepdog controlling their flock. They forced themselves to go faster, trembling and unwilling to become a lamb for him to control. They were right all along, and entertaining romantic feelings is what put them in this situation.

Apollo took his time, knowing they'd tire out eventually. He knew he had overreacted, but couldn’t they see they were meant to be together? It was a perfect fit: their cool, watery domain as opposed to his fiery, hot sun. And he knew they were a lovely singer; their voice was all he could think about! He had spied on them from the trees before approaching them, and their little musings while they played with the minnows were divine! If anything, in his mind, they overreacted. Looking to the heavens, he begged Eros to help him catch up to them.

While Apollo was obsessing over their every feature, (Y/n) stopped to rest a little, praying to their father and remembering his promise of help if they needed it, and oh, did they need it. Looking behind them and seeing him approach, they cried, “Dad, please, help me! Change my body! It got me into this mess and I hate it, please, save me from this man!” And at that, Peneus heard them and answered their cry for help, as their limbs got heavier mid run, and bark encapsulated their chest. Their hair became leaves, their arms became branches, and their foot, just now running, clings to the earth as a root. Their leaves brushed the water, and with a final creak, it was done. They had been changed into a laurel tree.

Apollo, despite (Y/n)’s fear of him and wish for him to leave them forever, simply could not. He felt he had to honor them, for even as a tree, they were the loveliest he had ever seen. “My love, my (Y/n), I will honor you forever. From this day forward, your leaves will adorn my hair like a crown, and I will make my lyres and bows out of your wood. The arrows in my quiver will come from only your branches, as a blessing, not to you, but me. You will be here for Rome’s rise to glory, and your leaves will be their crown as well. You can never lose your foliage, for it is beautiful and I cannot bear to see it go with Persephone in the winter.”

In the end, that was how the bay laurel tree came about, and to this day, Apollo treats Eros with respect, and wears a laurel crown. He remembers (Y/n) fondly, and although he will miss their nourished, (h/c) locks, their leaves are even softer. (a/n: discord is here)

#yandere #yandere x reader #god x reader #gender neutral y/n #mythology #myths x reader #obsession #oneshot #drabble #one shot #reader insert

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