You were a stupid man. The locals of Appalachia knew to ignore the strange calls and whistles that could be heard from the forest as night fell from time to time.
And they had warned you.
But you had either forgotten or not believed them.
When you heard a strangely beautiful whistling you allowed it to take you out of your new home and deep into the woods.
That's when you heard the soft flutter of wings. And bathed beneath the light of the full moon you saw him.
He matched the description of a being the locals called the Necropia Mothpire. Half cecropia moth and half vampire.
His massive wings were outstretched, white half moon crescents that were framed by red stood out amongst the black.
The cryptid's antenna twitched in your direction, taking you in with the same thoroughness as his sensitive vampire nose.
It was a scent he was familiar with.
He had been stalking you since you moved into the area. He had crept into your room while you were at work. Huffed your clothing.
Soon he had you pinned on the forest floor, his fur covered abs pressed against your back as his slimy cock pressed into your asshole.
As he pounded you mercilessly he sank his fangs into your neck and drank deeply, the combination of sucking you dry as he came in you was the only way of ensuring that you'd become the second Necropia Mothpire.
when will somewhere inside the mist (yandere cryptid batfam) return from the war...😭
Soo you definitely kicked my butt back into gear for finishing the fic.... as a reward here's the first half of part two of somewhere inside the mist...
Seriously though I am so happy that despite how much time has passed you are still interested! I have been busy with changes at work, among dozens of other things (I now am a cake decorator! so that's pretty cool!^^)
There are only a few instances where you can consider yourself to be a good actor- For as long as you could remember you never could keep a straight poker face.
The first time you really acknowledged that acting was something you were capable of was at your mothers funeral.
From what little you could remember, you knew it was such a hot and humid summer day. And you were not the only child expected to stay still in the stuffy funeral home with everyone's eyes upon you.
Your brother and sister could barely keep it together. Before you had to go inside and see everyone you had been just as upset.
You do not really know why you decided then to be on your best behavior.
In your head it had been a helpful solution. Politely sitting down and keeping a demure façade. Like your whole life had not been totally turned upside down. While everyone else had been so sad and afraid.
You could at least act the part, you were excellent. Perhaps a little too well behaved for the youngest child of a well loved family. Not a single tear of yours was shed that day, a fact that no one left in your family seemed to be able to forget.
Many years later despite your best efforts history repeats itself.
Your fathers funeral had gone about the same- though you had to act a little differently given the circumstances. Exchanging more polite words with distant relatives and by the end of it you are the only one who doesn't have tears streaming down your face.
There is a resentment that still stings but it is one that is not as world shattering.
You were left with more questions than closure a few days later when his lawyer informed you of the fact he had left the family cabin to you. Not to your sister, not to your brother but you.
You were used to all the family issues being blamed upon you in one way or another. Though those problems usually meant no one talked to you for a few weeks.
Grief is a funny thing- as much as you and your siblings cannot stand to be in the same room together. No one wants to part just yet. In fear that your time together is shorter than you could ever expect.
Despite this, you can't help but act like everything is alright still. A decent actor you can act like this is all ok- that you can work through this. Pick yourself up by your bootstraps and put the shattered pieces of your together. But all of this does not change the fact that you are more lost and afraid than anything else.
To be honest you are scared more than anything that you are going to end up all alone just like him.
Ok so how about this. A farmer who learns about the resident cryptid and starts bringing stuff as a sort of offering so it won’t kill him or his animals. The cryptid thinks the farmer is trying to court him and wants to mate with him. Both the farmer and cryptid are male.
Thank you for writing this if you choose it!
Yandere Cryptid x farmer reader (M/M) ♡♤Romantic♤♡
TW/CW: Animal death, kids... fantasy of little cryptid children. Oh, also the use of snares and bear traps.
Summary: You live in a small town and your animals are dying. You find a feather after unsuccessfully trying to kill/deter the creature. After struggling a little to find an answer, you learn through a friend about this rumour about a cryptid who eats live stock. You attempt to please it, but it assumes you are attempting to court it.
You were a simple man in a simple town. Your life was mostly made up of scourching sun, harsh winters, and a lot of work taking care of your animals. You made little money, but had just enough to get by and incredibly kind neighbours.
Then, your sheep began to be torn to shreds in the night. Your goats were sucked dry of blood. Your cattle seemed to he able to take the damage fine enough, but boy, did they suffer...
You bought bear traps, snares, sprays, whatever it took to keep this predator away from your live stock. You found the bear traps dismantled, your snares broken, and the sprays simply ineffective. But you did find... a feather.
You took it to someone you knew who owned birds, and she said you were stupid to think she'd know what this was. So, you took it to your friend who was into zoology and worked at an animal sanctuary. She said it was oddly coloured and didn't seem to be from local wildlife. In other words, you were at a dead end.
That was until she made a joke about a local "bird monster" that has been terrorising the nearby town lately. When you asked, she laughed and said it was just a fishermen's tale about an avian creature who was 11 feet tall and had an almost 400 centimetre wingspan. It had mostly jet-black feathers with snow white ones on its face and blue feathers tinged its wings. Its eyes were a black void and it was overall owl-like. It walked on two legs and was humanoid with large talons.
It hunted live stock.
It hunted live stock.
You quickly thanked her and rushed home to do some research. It didn't take long before you were giving up a little bit of meat to the thing to it would stop killing your animals. However, your bad luck did not end with the death of your animals.
The cryptid saw your gifts and did not realise what you were really asking. It made sense now...
The fresh meat, the little nest you had in your room, and even your shrill, high-pitched cry when you first found the animals dead. That was your mating call. An odd mating call for sure, but a mating call nonetheless. It felt... flattered.
It had never been considered for this kind of stuff before, mostly wallowing in loneliness and rejection, but now... now it has someone... offering to be its mate.
It can not let out down. It will not let you down! Those animals outside your home— you wanted it to kill them, didn't you? To prove its skill as a hunter. To see if it could provide for you. Well, it can. It can do that and so much more.
Though you are both male, the creature plays with images of adopting abandoned nestlings and raising them as your own. It would love to hear the sounds of cheeping in the night, after it has brought back fresh meat.
It wanted a mate, now it has one. Now, the only thing left to do... is to show you that it accepts your proposal.
When the moon is full and bright that is when we lock our doors and check our windows. We take care to stay quiet as to not draw any unwanted attention. The dead of night is filled with many things and it’s only when the moon is at it’s fullest that they come out to play. But no matter what you do they always find a way in.
Intense is an understatement when describing a werewolf. Everything about them is consuming and passionate. Their obsession being no different. It rules them; mind, body and soul. And nothing can deter them from what they want most of all. Their darling’s feelings won’t matter, you’ll get used to it sooner or later.
Tendencies do tend to vary depending on the host but generally werewolves are extremely possessive and ruled by their carnal instincts. They will stop at nothing to get what they want and a mate is no exception, neither is a pup. They won’t leave any room for their family to slip through the cracks.
Stalking, tracking, hunting; the only necessities a werewolf needs to not only take but to also keep their little home together. Werewolves are natural predators no matter what form they take and their instincts do nothing more than to fuel their already intense need for their darling. How could you expect to get away from something that will stop at nothing to keep what rightfully belongs to it? Are you really willing to test the lengths they’ll go for you?
The feeling of being watched and scrutinized will follow you wherever you go. Trying to shake the feeling of eyes boring into you is nonexistent. The feeling never seems to go away no matter what you do to try and hide yourself from who or whatever is ravaging you. It’s unsettling to say the least and they know that but they just can’t help but to stay close and watchful. They’re just waiting for the right time to steal you away until then get use to the uneasiness, it won’t be going away anytime soon. Not that it ever will. If anything the feeling will only get more suffocating and uncomfortable.
They can’t help it. Anyone would watch over the most important thing in their life, right? It’s not their fault that their gaze is just so intense but can you blame them? It’s only burning with their need for you after all. Isn’t that just lovely! They’ll try to be better about how long and how often they stare but watching you squirm has them feeling some type of way.
Running away and or hiding won’t do you much good. All you’re doing is frustrating or riling up your werewolf more than they already are. Do you really want to give them another reason to get rough? They’re barely holding themselves back as is.
Punishments vary depending on the host and their darling’s actions/behavior but they all usually aim to do one thing; ensure you learn from your mistakes. They rarely ever take pleasure from their darling’s pain but there are a few who do, depending. Usually the werewolf wants the punishments to end just as much as you but they also know how necessary they are to getting the cooperation and obedience they want. If you would only submit then they wouldn’t have to do any of this.
“Disobedience doesn’t go without punishment you should know that by now, little one.” Oh, how quickly a game can go from fun to terrifying if you insist on pushing the wrong buttons.
Werewolves are not always animalistic and primal, they are very much just as affectionate and attentive too. At least regarding their mate that is (and any pups in the future). There is a human side to them when the moon isn’t full. They do crave closeness and warmth but only with you. They don’t want anyone else. They don’t need anyone else. They are more than content curled around you, leaving no escape. Why would you ever need to leave the safety of their den? You don’t have to worry about anything anymore, not with them around. They will take care of you from now on.
If you think the lone wolf is bad enough then you’re not ready for the pack.
Based on recent headcanons I posted before. That will be the foundation for this.
Since it isn't mentioned what you wanted exactly, I took the liberty of writing headcanons.
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⸸ The Araneae — General Headcanons (Yandere/Lovesick Edition) ⸸
Description: They want to eat you out. Maybe in a sexy way, maybe for dinner. Or both. Who said dinner can't be sexy times also?
Warning/MID: yanderes are their own warning, slight blood, slight terror/violence, mature themes (read the contains list)
Contains: dark humor, anthropomorphized animals (not just spiders), blue-and-orange morality / morals and self-sacrifice are entirely human concepts, emotional detachment, lack of empathy, sexual cannibalism, courtship, obsessive behavior, imbalanced power dynamics, typical spider behavior, manipulation, silk restraints
That being said, let us dive into the center of the spider's web...
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⸸ The Widows and Widowers, and the Spouse Eaters. There is a reason why the world gave them these names, and these ones don't even cover the more creative ones.
⸸ They put 'consume' in 'consummation', and for Outsiders and humans, this ritual is horrific and a big no-no in society (I'm not counting you, you kinky bastard).
⸸ Things are much more different nowadays though. Parenting with both parents is becoming more normalized, and literal consummation of marriages is a guaranteed life or death sentence.
⸸ With help of therapy, medication, public awareness about their biology, and just societal progression, most Spider Folk have the support needed to suppress their instincts.
⸸ Emphasis on the word, 'suppress'.
⸸ Because if it was possible to rid one's self of such instincts, then the Araneae wouldn't have their very own statistic for spousal homicide, would they?
For a comparison, it's the equivalent of horny people doing the No Nut November challenge. For those with low to nonexistent sex drives, uh...think about going on a diet.
⸸ Remember, the Araneae are reclusive, preferring to keep their identities hidden from most of society (except from the authorities, of course). They deeply value the very few that know of who they truly are, and cherish their significant others like one would a rare Pokemon.
⸸ And yes, I have mentioned in my last post that the Spider Folk are incapable of bonding and empathy. But when you are a cold-hearted animal, romance is really just the enjoyment of enjoying your partner's company, finding them attractive (physically or emotionally) with the added bonus of passing down your genes.
⸸ So, they might not feel the empathy we value so much as humans, but lust and attraction? Absolutely. Why else would they let themselves be eaten by their partner?
⸸ So much so that one can only hope that if a Spider were to stalk court you, you could only hope that they would eventually lose interest or find better prey. It's unlikely, but who am I to destroy that fantasy?
⸸ Also, don't even try to run away. A struggling prey will only arouse them even more, and like the true predators that they are, they won't care if it hurts.
⸸ Nowadays, most Spiders would think twice about devouring their significant other. The romantic idea of having their lover for life is becoming popular. But that being said, some won't hesitate to do that if it isn't an option.
⸸ After all, the only way to divorce your husband in spider society while still keeping the 'til death do us part' bit of the vow is by being his death.
⸸ If you think you can avoid this by dating a male, then I have bad news: it won't.
⸸ For spiders, it is all about strength, and whoever is the strongest in the relationship gets to decide what and how this relationship will go.
⸸ If a male Araneae is dating you, it's probably because he was thinking 'this one can't run away' when he met you at the hospital.
⸸ As I have said in my general Headcanons for the Spider Folk, males are more subtle. When evolution decides that only the most agile and cunning of males can pass down their genes to the cannibalistic females of their clan, it should be expected of them to be very good at manipulation.
⸸ But going back to subtlety, here is example of why males are more paranoia inducing than females.
⸸ Imagine. You two are having a nice dinner over at his place when he gives you a present. It is wrapped in one of the finest silks you had ever seen him made, and you can't help but be at awe at the intricate patterns and imagery adorning it.
⸸ But then, you finally unwrap it, and it was revealed what he had actually gifted you. A single hand, pale and stiff from rigor mortis...and that mark. You recognized it. He was the only one who had such discoloration on their hand.
⸸ Before you could even throw it away, you suddenly feel something wiry thin and sharp wrap around your neck. It pulls your head to the back of the chair, forcing you to still. Warm blood trickled down your throat, and you dared not to move...lest you get yourself decapitated.
⸸ All the while, various thoughts were running through your head. How did he even get behind you? How did he move from his seat without you noticing? Had his silk always been this sharp?
⸸ But out of all the things you wanted to say, this was all that came out of your mouth: "Why?"
⸸ He could answer you...but why bother? You would never understand how mind-crippling his love is, never know how paralyzing the fear of losing you to some other anthropomorph.
⸸ If you were a spider, he would sacrifice his life for you, let you eat and ravage him alive. He'll be happy knowing that he was able to give his all to you.
⸸ But you aren't a spider. You are an Outsider. If you are unwilling to love him the way he knows how...then he shall do it for you.
"Dont cry...Soon, you'll be with me...Forever and ever..."
Thank you @semisolidmind for this absolute brainworm. I skipped everything else I wanna draw just to do this. The dudes name is Connar and he has work at 6 a.m. (please ignore the ugly face at the start lmfao)
Generally humanoid appearance, with somewhat longer limbs and eyes without pupils. Misty/shadowy elements on the skin, touch is cold and devoid of humanity. Lower and raspier voice that often times is difficult to hear.
Console appears exclusively at night, only in areas obscured by darkness. They have a dislike of light and avoid it whenever possible. They move slowly and deliberately. If you still for long enough you’ll hear very faint, strained breathing.
Sometimes Console only watches over you, not intending on touching you. In the morning they’re gone, and you wonder if they were there to ever begin with. Their intentions aren’t clear -- it doesn’t appear malevolent, but what else could they want?
There’s no information you can find on whatever this creature is. As time goes on sleep evades you, but speaking to it doesn’t garner a response. If you shine a light in their direction they disappear, only to come back once the light is turned off.
Eventually one night, frustration becomes too much. The sheer confusion and terror this entity brings overwhelms you, causing you to burst into tears. That’s when Console finally lays a hand on you, cold fingers that were longer than a human’s brushing over your face.
Shushing you quietly, you can only hear a low voice saying, “Be okay.” It’s croaky and difficult to hear at first, but throughout the night it’s repeated with increasing intensity. You’re unsure if it’s to comfort you or demanding you to feel better.
But on nights where you’re not crying, Console remains in the darkness. They only speak when sobs leave you, frozen hands and coarse skin stroking your face until morning. All you hear are the echoes of “Be okay, be okay, be okay.”
He was stuck. Stuck in your yard, stuck outside your house, stuck peering into your window. His cold hand was pressed up against the glass, wishing he could break it open, all of his strength utterly useless in this moment. All of the things he could do, all of the things that he was that human beings could never dream of were pointless. Being a creature of the night had always made him feel so strong, so powerful. And yet somehow you could make him feel so pathetically weak.
Ever since that night that he first saw you, first saw that enchanting smile and warm eyes, first caught the sweet scent of your blood, he had been mesmerized. It had been so easy to track that scent back to your home and simply spend the rest of the night watching as you slept. He had come back every night since, waiting more eagerly than ever before for the sun to set. But with each night he spent with his hand pressed against your window, his hunger only grew.
It wasn’t his usual hunger, the hunger he felt purely for the sake of his own survival, but it was quickly becoming even more important. This hunger was not simply for your blood, it was for your smile, your kindness, your soul, your love. For he loved you, he knew it as instinctively as he knew that sunlight was his poison and shadows were his kin. He had been able to hold back those instincts for as long as he could, but they were as much a part of him as your blood was a part of you. And just as the sun would set each night, setting him and his kind free, his love for you would be set free too.
